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outer-bnks · 3 years

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Two Burning Hearts Are Dared to Break (JJ x OC) Ch. 14

JJ catches Elle and Topper in a compromising position, eliciting a fight in which some truths are exposed.

Warning: brief mention of alcohol, smoking. hella angst

Word count: 1.5k

“JJ! Wait!”, she followed him out to the side entrance of the garden that was thankfully empty, watching as he made his way over to a catering truck that stood in the carpark attached to the club.

“For what Elle?! What I just saw doesn’t need explaining!”, he huffed, as he continued walking away from her.

“What are you even doing here?”, she questioned, unaware that he was going to be attending the party. Noticing his navy shirt and slacks, she realised that he was working one of his multiple jobs in order to earn enough to pay off his restitution. He opened the back doors of the truck, beginning to unload them.

“What does it look like? I just thought I’d swing by for shits and giggles”, he sarcastically answered, his arms out wide, looking around at the crates around his feet.

“Well you could’ve told me that you were coming!”, she exclaimed.

JJ scoffed, “What difference would it have made, you looked like you were having a pretty good time in the laundry room!”. The fuzzy feeling that she was experiencing with Topper had definitely dissipated, leaving the all too familiar sinking sensation in her stomach.

“It would have made a lot of difference JJ!”. For starters, she might not have agreed to be Topper’s date in front of the boy she actually had feelings for.

Rolling his eyes, he turned away from her again, continuing to work, “I don’t even care, it's just that I didn’t think you’d move on so fast”, he shrugged, trying to make his disinterest believable by adopting an apathetic tone of voice.

Elle’s eyebrows furrowed, confused by his choice of words, “What? Move on?”. As far as she was concerned, they had nothing to move on from, he had made that very clear as of recently.

“John B’s only been gone for 2 weeks, you know I just wouldn’t have thought that you’re the type to just-”.

Elle cut him off, utterly bewildered by what he was implying, “Wait wait wait. John B?”.

“Yes John B, Elle! It’s so obvious that you’re into him”.

It was her turn to scoff, “Are you out of your mind? I do not have a thing for John B! I never have!”. He thought she was into John B? Maybe she’d thought she had a crush on him when she first moved to the OBX, but that quickly changed as soon as met JJ. She was even sure that John B was aware of her feelings for JJ, making sneaky comments that only she could hear, or winking at her whenever the pair were left alone together for more than 5 minutes. But she’d never actually had a conversation with him about that, he was the kind of friend who knew what you were feeling before you even knew it yourself.

“Could’ve fooled me”, he mumbled, locking up the back of the truck as he had now emptied the crates into numerous stacks.

Looking around the garden, puzzled by how he’d come to this conclusion, she sighed, “God JJ you really do talk out of your ass sometimes!”. Had he forgotten about how obsessed John B was with Sarah? Or the fact that Elle was actually excited when Sarah joined the Pogues?

This seemed to get a rise out of him, turning on his feet and walking over to her, “Oh please! All the times I would come over to the Chateau and you were already there, in his bed fast asleep, or answering his door basically naked?”. He knew that the way he spoke definitely portrayed his jealousy, and was uncalled for, but he hoped that masking it with confusion or anger wouldn’t give away his true feelings.

Honestly, it killed him the first time he entered the Chateau and found out Elle had decided to sleep in John B’s bed instead of the empty spare room. It was the morning after they’d been hanging out as a group, smoking, watching movies and binging on the snacks Pope had brought over. Often, on nights like that everyone would stay over, usually having already fallen asleep during the last movie. However, JJ had decided to sleep in his own bed that night, knowing that his Dad was on an overnight fishing trip with his workmates. He hadn’t even thought about whether Elle had stayed over or headed home, until he walked in the next morning, calling out for John B and banging on his bedroom door, not expecting her to answer in nothing but one of John B’s oversized t-shirts. He quickly put two and two together, knowing that she had a drawer in the spare room with some clothes in it for whenever she decided to stay over, and concluded that the scene in front of him, reeked of sex. And of an unspoken betrayal that JJ promised himself never to mention.

That wasn’t the last time he had caught her in that situation, it recurring exactly 5 more times, over the space of the past year. To ensure that he would never feel that betrayal again, JJ had pushed down his feelings for Elle, rebuilt some of the walls that he’d let come down around her, and used sarcasm to hide how he actually felt about the idea of his best friend hooking up with the girl that he thought he was falling in love with.

Shaking her head slightly out of disbelief, she rebutted, her voice rising a few decibels, “Excuse me? I have never slept with John B. So what we shared a bed, does that automatically mean we were hooking up? We couldn’t have just been friends who fell asleep in the same bed after talking for a few hours? JJ I’ve shared a bed with you, Pope and Kie tonnes of times! Was I hooking up with all of you as well?”.

Looking down at the ground briefly, he lowered his voice, becoming aware of how loud they were being. “It’s different with us and you know it”.

Following his lead, she lowered her voice, her anger showing through in her tone instead, “Do I J? I’m surprised you even noticed with all the tourons coming and going from your room”.

His eyes darted up to her face, “What's that supposed to mean?”.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she continued, “You get to have your fun, aren't I allowed to have mine?”. That’s all JJ ever referred to his one night stands or brief flings as, fun.

Pointing back at the door that they’d emerged from, he referred to Topper, “This is what you call fun Elle? Fine, have all the ‘fun’ in the world, but please spare me, I don’t wanna see it”.

She raised her eyebrows out of surprise, two could play at this game. “Oh and you thought I enjoyed watching you mack on anyone with a pulse at our keggers?”. She couldn’t count the times she had watched him sweet talk a touron at a kegger into going for a walk down to the water with him, often not returning for over an hour. Not that Elle was keeping track (although she was definitely keeping track). In that hour, she’d usually devoured way too many shots, or danced, or began chatting up a guy herself, to ease the dull heartache that seemed to consume her.

Defeated by this argument, and his blood still boiling, he resorted to his defences, “You know what, do what you want, just don't come crying to me when he turns out to be exactly who we think he is”.

“From what I can remember, you wanted nothing to do with me, so what do you care who I’m macking on?”.

“The only reason I care is because of John B and Sarah. We’re trying to find ways to clear John B’s name and get justice for Sarah, whilst you're hooking up with her goddamn ex.

When this whole thing between you two blows up like it inevitably will, just know that you have no one to blame but yourself”, he spat, turning and walking back over to crates, beginning to take them around to the kitchen entrance of the Yacht Club.

“Thanks JJ! I’ll be sure to keep that in mind”, she called out after him, watching him make his way inside. She felt as though steam was coming out of her ears and she swore that her face was beet red right now, matching the faded stain on her dress. She was expecting some sort of drama to occur tonight, but not once had she thought that it would’ve been with JJ instead of Topper.

Hearing the door to the garden close behind her, she took a deep breath before turning around to face him, “Hey, are you alright?”, he asked softly. He had definitely heard the fight, probably opting to stay inside so as to not incite any more tension.

“Yeah I’m fine”, she nodded, grabbing his hand in hers and giving it a gentle squeeze, “let’s head back inside, you might need to show me how to act like a proper Kook, I think I’m finished with being a Pogue for the night”, she winked.

Topper recognised her joking tone, hinging from the hips in a faux bow, “Why of course my lady, follow me”. If she was going to be treated like a Kook, what’s the harm in acting like one?

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blackswaneuroparedux · 3 years

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I feel a sort of reverence in going over these scenes in this most beautiful country, which I am proud to call my own, where there was such devoted loyalty to the family of my ancestors – for Stuart blood is in my veins.

- Queen Victoria on Scotland

For a British monarch, Queen Victoria was extremely quick off the mark in making her first visit to Scotland in 1842, only five years after her coronation as Queen. Hooked on the stories of Sir Walter Scott, Queen Victoria toured the country with Prince Albert, spending several days in the capital at Edinburgh.

Then in September 1844 she returned to Scotland with Prince Albert and her young daughter Vicky at her side. This time she visited Blair Castle in Perthshire. They all enjoyed not only Scottish oatmeal porridge but its spectacular fresh landscapes, especially the Highlands, which captivated them both and inspired a rich new adoption of ideas. Later, they took on Highland life in the fullness of its tastes and traditions, something which was recorded in a wealth of artwork, not least in the Queen’s watercolours.

Victoria and Albert loved Scotland so much they inspired a trend for tartan and tweed across the kingdom. They returned over and over again, and after taking possession of Balmoral in 1848 they actually built a castle of their own.

Queen Victoria was a keen diarist and kept detailed records of her stays in Scotland, writing exhaustively about what happened each day: whether Albert’s hunting trips had been successful, who they dined with, her thoughts on the landscape, Highland pony riding, plans for scenes to sketch, details of the people she met, whether she liked them or not.

One of the most common urband legends of Victoria’s time in Scotland is that she and Albert got lost in the Highlands and sought shelter and hospitality in a poor family’s cottage.

Queen Victoria certainly never mentioned getting lost in the forest alone with Prince Albert on horseback, as depicted in the recent British drama series Victoria.

Queen Victoria never mentioned being forced to seek shelter with a kindly poor couple who cooked delicious trout over an open fire and let them stay the night, and there’s no record of her hiding her identity as Queen and learning to darn a sock like a “normal” person.

Still – you can see where this fanciful storyline came from. What we do see in her journal is that, for her, the wild Scottish Highlands were an escape from reality.

“After the constant trying publicity we are accustomed to, it is so pleasant & refreshing, to be able, amidst such beautiful surrounding, to enjoying such complete privacy & such a simple life,” she wrote in her diary.

And while and Albert avoided getting lost, they did have an idyllic pony ride accompanied by only one servant – as close to privacy as the monarch could really get.

“When I awoke the sun was shining brightly & it lit up the mountains so beautifully,” she wrote. “At 9, we set off, both, on ponies, attended only by Lord Glenlyon’s excellent servant, Sandy McAra, in his Highland dress, to go up one of the hills.

“We went through a ford, Sandy leading my pony, and Albert following closely, and then went up the hill of Tulloch straight over a very steep cabbage field, afterwards going round zigzag to the very top, the ponies scrambling up over stones & heather, & never once making a false step. The view all round was splendid & so beautifully lit up. From the top it was quite like a panorama.

“We could see the Falls of Bruar, the Pass of Killiecrankie, Ben y Gloe, and the whole range of hills behind, in the direction of Tay mouth. The house itself & the houses in the village looked like toys, from the height at which we were. It was very wonderful. We got off once or twice, & walked about. There was not a house or creature near us, only pretty Highland, black faced sheep.”

She added: “It was the most delightful, and most romantic ride and walk, I had ever had.”

Another time they cut it fine on a pony ride, with the Queen suddenly becoming worried about nightfall – “Got alarmed at seeing the sun sinking, for fear of our being benighted, & we called anxiously for Sandy to give a signal to Albert to come back. At length we got on the move, skirting the hill & the ponies went as safely & securely as possible.”

But they made it home just in time: “A long day indeed, but one which I shall not easily forget.”

And as for visiting a couple of unsuspecting-yet-kindly Highlanders at their cottage?

The only mentions of a “cottage” make clear this is no poor man’s house: “We got out at the Cottage, which is pretty & beautifully situated. There are some good Landseers in the room we went into.” With paintings by Sir Edwin Henry Landseer on the walls this is not exactly a poor man’s hut…

As she prepared to leave at the end of September, Victoria reflected on her time in Scotland: “I am so sad at thinking of leaving this charming place, & the quiet, liberty, & the pure air we have enjoyed. The action life we have been leading, peculiar in its way, has been so delightful.”

Having already lost her beloved husband Albert, Victoria found solace in Scotland and its people. John Brown was famously associated with Queen Victoria.

The Queen first mentioned Brown in her Journal on 11 September 1849, and from 1851 John Brown, at Albert's suggestion, took on the role of leading Queen Victoria's pony. In 1858, Brown became the personal ghillie (shooting guide and gun-loader) of Prince Albert.

After Prince Albert died in 1861, Queen Victoria went into deep mourning, becoming almost a recluse. In 1864, her daughter, Princess Alice, noted that the Queen had always been happy at Balmoral, especially when taking a ride in her pony cart. Why couldn't pony cart rides be made available at Windsor and at Osborne (the Queen's home on the Isle of Wight), with the Queen in the care of the man who so effectively led her pony at Balmoral? The Queen agreed and in December 1864 John Brown became a full-time servant. He was, as Queen Victoria put it in her journal, "indefatigable in his attendance and care".

By 1866 gossip about the relationship between the Queen and her extremely informal servant had started. Brown was the only person around Victoria prepared to "tell it like it was", and he often proved abrasive with members of the Royal Household: even, it is said, on at least one occasion giving the Prince of Wales the rough edge of his tongue. Rumours soon spread more widely, and Brown was featured in the satirical magazine Punch on 30 June 1866, and Queen Victoria came to be referred to by some members of her household (behind her back) as "Mrs Brown".

Speculation about Queen Victoria's 20 year relationship with Brown, following the early death of her husband Albert in 1861, started in court circles almost as soon as the unlikely friendship itself did when the queen was in her mid-forties.

Victoria's daughters joked about "Mama's lover", and the then Duke of Edinburgh (the queen's second son) claimed he had been evicted from Buckingham Palace because he refused to shake the servant's hand.

The news of 1866 carried a piece in the Gazette de Lausanne, a Swiss paper, that read, “On dit…that with Brown and by him she consoles herself for Prince Albert, and they go even further. They add that she is in an interesting condition, and that if she was not present for the Volunteers Review, and at the inauguration of the monument to Prince Albert, it was only in order to hide her pregnancy. I hasten to add that the Queen has been morganatically married to her attendant for a long time, which diminishes the gravity of the thing.” Most assuredly, no British paper carried such a tale, but once the word spread of the Queen’s supposed affair, there was no reining it back in.

In the United Kingdom it was Alexander Robertson’s pamphlet “John Brown: A Correspondence with the Lord Chancellor, Regarding a Charge of Fraud and Embezzlement Preferred Against His Grace the Duke of Atholl K. T. of 1873” that first openly suggested that Queen Victoria and John Brown had married morganatically - this being related to, or being a marriage between a member of a royal or noble family and a person of inferior rank in which the rank of the inferior partner remains unchanged and the children of the marriage do not succeed to the titles, fiefs, or entailed property of the parent of higher rank.

Citing one Charles Christie, ‘House Servant to the Dowager Duchess of Athole at Dunkeld House,’ Robertson claimed that John Brown was regularly noted as entering Queen Victoria’s bedroom when the rest of the household was asleep. Robert purported that Victoria married Brown at Lausanne, Switzerland, in 1868, with Duchess Anne standing as witness. The Duchess of Atholl vehemently denied Robertson’s allegations. Robertson went on to make other incendiary allegations without any proof including that Brown and Queen Victoria had a love child which as given up for adoption in Vaux, Switzerland.

Meanwhile, in our more recent times various newspaper revelations went as far as suggesting that the two had actually married based on newly unocvered letters from Victoria’s courtiers. Indeed a film was even made: "Mrs Brown" became the title of a 1997 film about the relationship, starring Dame Judi Dench as Queen Victoria and Billy Connolly as John Brown.

In 1872 John Brown knocked down a would-be assassin in what was the fifth attempt on Victoria's life. John died at Windsor Castle on 27 March 1883, aged 56, by some accounts because he was too devoted to Victoria. It is suggested that had he taken to his sick bed at the first sign of a chill, he would have survived, but his sense of duty was such that he carried on working until it was too late. He was buried at Crathie.

Were Queen Victoria and John Brown married? Historians are divided over this contentious claim. Those that have believe it have based their views on four pieces of information, none of which is in itself conclusive. But they believe that, when taken together, help swing the balance of probability in favour of a wedding having taken place:

After Victoria's death, two sets of mementos were placed in her coffin, at her request. On one side was placed one of Prince Albert's dressing gowns, while on the other was placed a lock of Brown's hair, along with a picture of him and a ring worn by Brown's mother and given to Victoria by Brown.

The published diary of the Liberal MP, the 1st Viscount Harcourt, for 17 February 1885 related a second-hand story told to his father, the then Home Secretary, by a renowned gossip, that on his deathbed in 1872 the Revd Dr Norman Macleod, the chaplain to Queen Victoria,stated that he had conducted a marriage ceremony between John Brown and Queen Victoria.

The Daily Mail on 2 September 2006 reported a similarly second-hand story in which a late senior member of the Royal Family had said that documents confirming a marriage had many years earlier turned up in the Royal archives at Windsor, and been destroyed.

After Victoria's death (a full 18 years after John Brown's own death), Edward VII tried to destroy everything connected with Brown, including busts and photographs. A life-size statue of Brown at Balmoral, commissioned by Queen Victoria after his death, was only saved by being moved to an obscure part of the estate where Edward was unlikely to find it.

My own view is that it’s a much ado about nothing. Although much of the gossip about John Brown and Queen Victoria was seen as ridiculous steps were taken to suppress information, for instance, when Queen Victoria died her daughter Princess Beatrice removed pages from the queen’s journal ‘that might cause pain” in her own words. People have msiread the intent behind such actions. The Royal family down the ages have always doused more petrol on the fire by simply trying to quell any rumours of impropriety that it invites unfounded wilder speculative tittle tattle.

It is clear, despite public gossip, there was nothing immoral in Queen Victoria’s relationship with John Brown. Queen Victoria would never have contemplated sex with a servant. People forget how rigid social roles really were and how seriously people viewed them in Victoria’s age despite the hypocrisy we have come to see them with.

Furthermore, she was never alone to carry out an affair having court ladies always within shouting distance. That was the whole point of having a royal court and doting ladies in waiting about the place.

The significance of Queen Victoria’s attraction to John Brown was that he - at worst - made a career out of her. He never married, had few holidays and devoted his life to the queen, and he was a walking encyclopedia of her like, dislikes, moods and needs. As a downright selfish person this greatly appealed to the queen. She liked him because she needed to be fussed, cosseted and spoiled. He told her the truth, spoke boldly to her and importantly too; unlike her family and senior courtiers, he was not afraid of her. Above all, when Prince Albert died Queen Victoria needed a male friend — she never really made close friendships with women — and someone to lean on. John Brown supplied all that.

Victoria’s visited Balmoral in her beloved Scottish Highlands in the late autumn of 1900. The Queen could not know it, but it was the last time that she would see the new castle which Prince Albert had erected in her words as his ‘own work… as at Osborne’ and which had become a box of intensely personal memories.

So deeply did the Queen feel her first visit to Balmoral after Prince Albert’s death in May 1862 (in pouring rain) that she wrote with painful dread to her eldest daughter, the Crown Princess of Prussia of the strange reality of everything: ‘Oh! Darling child… the stag’s heads – the rooms – blessed, darling Papa’s room – then his coats – his caps – kilts – all, all convulsed my poor shattered frame!’ (cit., Delia Millar, Queen Victoria’s Life in the Scottish Highlands, 101). Even the Queen’s lonely pursuit of spinning wool, which later became synonymous with her early widowhood, had been a vigorously traditional Highland activity (Ibid, 76). Now her widowhood of waiting was drawing to an end, forty years later, with the Queen’s approaching death.

The Queen’s unknowing leave-taking of Scotland took place gradually, over these last days at Balmoral. Touchingly, she was still referring to ‘tea’ – although by now, it consisted only of arrowroot and milk – drinking it at her secluded Highland retreat of Alt-na-giubhsaich. Queen Victoria’s last day included luncheon in Prince Albert’s rooms with her youngest daughter, Princess Beatrice and her Battenberg children. She left Balmoral fittingly, with the weather ‘wretchedly gloomy & dark’ whilst with her, she had a wreath to take back to Windsor, to place on the tomb of the Prince Consort at Frogmore; possibly it also contained the Balmoral heather she loved so much. Perhaps there may have been a presentiment, within the sentimental.

The Queen’s trusted doctor, Sir James Reid was with her at Osborne when she died, so presumably, the Queen would have had the comfort of a Scottish voice at her side, in between her lingering states of consciousness.

After her death, the Prince of Wales spoke a moving sentence of gratitude for Reid’s devoted service: ‘You are an honest straightforward Scotchman… I shall never forget all you did for the Queen’ (read Christopher Hibbert, Queen Victoria: A Personal History, pg. 494).

Significantly, the Queen instructed amongst the many sentimental items to be put in her coffin ‘some of which none of her family were to see’, a photograph of her devoted Highland servant, John Brown, which she ordered to be placed in her left and, with a lock of his hair. These were both tactfully hidden inside a silken case, the handiwork of the Queen’s late wardrobe maid Annie MacDonald, wrapped in tissue paper.

Afterwards, the Queen’s left hand was covered with Queen Alexandra’s flowers. Also put into the Queen’s coffin was a simple sprig of Balmoral heather, which Sir James Reid covered with a quilted cushion – made especially to fit the coffin – to preserve the Queen’s privacy in death.

Scotland was at her funeral, in the form of her Highland ghillies, as the Queen’s German grandson, Ernst Ludwig, Grand Duke of Hesse, wrote in his private memoirs: ‘[The moment] when her coffin was lowered in the mausoleum at Frogmore, remains unforgettable to me… I remained a moment there alone. When I looked about me, there were kneeling near me all of her ghillies [Highland servants] from Scotland, all strong, sturdy men, who were weeping there uncontrollably like sons for their mother…’ For her funeral, the Funeral March by Handel was substituted as per the Queen’s instructions, for music by Chopin and Beethoven and importantly, Highland dirges.

The sarcophagus or tomb chest was hewn from a flawless block of grey Aberdeen granite from the quarries at Cairngall in Scotland. Three attempts were made before this one was successfully carved out and it is purportedly the largest of its kind ever to have been hewn for such a use.

It was an appropriate Scotch bed for the Queen’s final sleep. Upon this sarcophagus, the effigies of Prince Albert and Queen Victoria lie still, a more sublime rendering of their marriage bed, staring into the beyond. Touchingly though, the head of Queen Victoria’s effigy is half-turned towards that of Prince Albert, as if it somehow suggesting that he died before she did. As in life, she is leaning, straining after the beloved husband that she mourned for half of her life.

The fact that their sarcophagus was quarried in Scotland is an appropriate choice for a royal couple who loved that country so much, becoming a little more Scotch with every visit. Appropriately for the Queen, parts of Eastern Central Scotland still celebrate Victoria Day, the last Monday before or on 24 May, Queen Victoria’s birthday.

Scotland was indeed with them, in the end. And continues to be with the House of Windsor.

#queen victoria #quote #monarchy #royalty #scotland #balmoral #queen #prince albert #highlands #tartan #victoria day #john brown #history #british #britain

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whydoyouwantmyname · 3 years

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Imagine Being Sirius’s Daughter (Part Four)

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

-The last day of Summer break you asked Remus if it was okay that you went to Hogwarts, which he at first wasn’t sure if he wanted to agree to, but he could see in your eyes that you weren’t going to let it go.

-When you arrived he thought you were going to go straight to Dumbledore’s office, so imagine his surprise when he saw you start towards the dungeons. He decided to go to Dumbledore’s office, knowing that he was not wanted where you were going.

-You lightly knocked on Snape’s office door, to which his nasally, groaning tone leaked through the wooden door, “Come in.”

-When he saw it was you, he looked disappointed, “Miss Black, I was unaware the moon would be full tonight.”

“It’s not, I just wanted to come talk.”

“About? If it is regards to the grade the Weasley boys received last term, it is too late to change.”

“No, it is about him.” Snape looked away, he never imagined the daughter of one of his bullies would ever come to discuss the Potter boy with him.

“My father tells me that you used to be close with my Aunt Lily, that was until she started dating Uncle Prong.” You stated, not revealing the real reason, since you were sure that Snape regretted calling Lily a mudblood, “Harry is starting school tomorrow.”

“I am aware.” Snape hissed

“Are you okay?” You asked, as he lifted his head towards you again, “I mean this is the son of the woman you love.”

“Yes, and you are the child of the man who killed them. Now your spineless father might not have been the one holding the wand that stopped Lily’s heart, but he might as well have.” He hissed, advancing towards you, “You want to know why I have never liked you Miss Black, it isn’t because of how your father treated me, or how I was the test subject for your uncle Prong, or that I lost your aunt Lily. Oh no foolish girl it is because you act just like your father, reckless, pompous, ignorant... I am shocked your friends haven’t figured out you will probably turn on them just as fast as your father did. I can’t stand the sight of you because when I look at you, I see the man who turned on the Potter’s, who told the Dark Lord exactly where they were to kill them.” Snape was in your face now, his hook nose close to yours as he hissed, “Now get out.”

-You left immediately, tears brimming your eyes as you hurried towards Dumbledore’s office. When you got there Remus looked towards you immediately, and saw the sorrow in your eyes. His long legs carried him quickly towards you, before engulfing you in his arms, and pulling you into his chest. Your voice barely auditable as you muttered, “I would like to drop Potions.”

-Later that night you went to Hagrid’s, figuring he wouldn’t be there, cause it was dinner time for a certain three headed dog that Hagrid had been hiding in the forest for several years. You loved Fluffy, and normally when Hagrid would go to feed him you would tag along. So when you opened the door to see Hagrid standing at the fire you couldn’t help but raise some questions.

-He told you the bare minimum, he wasn’t able to reveal much to you, at the request of Dumbledore. But he told you that Fluffy was guarding something for Dumbledore, and that no matter what, you couldn’t bring up the fact that you knew about Fluffy, or the music. You agreed.

-The day you were supposed to get on the train, you woke up early and made Remus breakfast. Eggs Benedict, sausage, bacon, and strawberries lined the kitchen table as you pours some orange juice into the clear glass cups, the pot of coffee brewing. You knew that today was going to be hard, since Remus never liked saying goodbye to you, but today was going to be extra difficult, for both of you.

-While you cooked you had no idea how you would react to seeing the boy you were supposed to grow up with. The last time you had seen Harry was Halloween in 1981, when you were two. You also wondered how Remus would react, I mean this was the boy that should have also been calling him Uncle Mooney, the son of his best friends who were violently taken from the world too young. You couldn’t imagine the pain he would feel.

-When he awoke, and trudged into the kitchen he yawned, “You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Excited to start your third year?” He joked as you turned your head slightly, “Course I am.”

“Do you remember what classes you chose?” He joked, already knowing that when you filled out the list you made sure to pick classes that you knew the Weasley would take.

“Yes Uncle Mooney.” You smiled, before taking his empty plate and serving up the freshly cooked breakfast.

-You both ate in silence, before Remus cleared his throat, “Have you heard from your dad in a while?”

“Not since June.” You muttered, “You?”

“No, he hasn’t written me in a while Love.”

-When you were finished you loaded the dishes into the sink, ready to clean them, however Remus stopped you, “I’ll do those later my Love, do you have your trunk packed?”

“Course I do, triple checked it last night.” You smiled as you looked towards him, ready to face the world.

“Good, better grab it then, would hate for you to be late, cause than who will entertain the boys?”

“Lee can handle it, I promise.”

“sure he can.”

- When you and Remus arrived on the platform you immediately looked around for Lee, Fred, and George, however you saw none of them. You turned towards Remus, ready to tell him you would stay with him and wait, but when you turned you saw he was scanning the platform as well. You knew it wasn’t for your friends however.

-When you finally caught sight of the Twins they had just run through the barrier, and went racing towards you, the two leaving their carts to hug you. However before you could say a word you saw a face you hadn’t seen in almost 10 years. His hair was shaggy, and a dark, chocolate brown, his skin was fair, his body was engulfed in clothes clearly too large for him, which caused him to look as though he was lean and tall. He was looking around the platform in wonder, a snow owl sitting atop his trunk, as his broken frames hung from his nose. You could see the shimmer of his green eyes, your Aunt’s eyes, but if it wasn’t for those eyes you would have sworn you were looking at the face of your Uncle Prongs.

-Your eyes immediately watered, but that didn’t stop you from turning to look at your Uncle Mooney, his own eyes transfixed on him, as a tear freely fell down his face. You broke away from the twins without a word, and hugged Remus, who was looking at Harry Potter as though he was an old friend.

-When Remus got to the car, he shut the door, and immediately broke down. The tears flowing like a river as he beat the steering wheel and screamed. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Harry didn’t get to have his parents, it wasn’t fair that he couldn’t grow up with you, it wasn’t fair that he was dressed in hand-me-down clothes and his glasses were broken, it wasn’t fair that he looked like he hadn’t eaten a decent meal in 10 years, It wasn’t fair that Dumbledore didn’t just give Harry to him like he had you. It wasn’t fair that he lost his best friends, it wasn’t fair that his best friend killed them, it wasn’t fair… None of it was fair. As Remus screamed into the empty void of the car his tears were falling faster and faster at the thought of how unfair life had been for both Harry Potter and [Y/N] Black.

-When he finally drove home, he dragged his feet into the eerily quiet cabin, the room was dark, and cold. He slowly advanced towards the armchair and sunk into it, and let his thoughts consume him.

-When you boarded the train you couldn’t find Lee, so you and Fred snagged an empty booth while George went to find him. As soon as the door was closed though Fred looked at you, “Why do you look spooked?”

“Huh?” You looked towards him

“Well you took one look at that kid who went through the barrier with us, and your whole demeanor changed, and now you just look sad.”

“Remember when Uncle Remus was telling us stories last summer about my dad, and Uncle James?”

“Yeah, they both were bloody brilliant.” Fred smiled as you looked into his eyes, noticing as well the smallest smudge of dirt on his nose, “Well that was my Uncle Jame’s son. We haven’t seen him since he was 1, and honestly I doubt he even remembers us. Seeing him was like looking at my Uncle James again.”

-Later when George returned he sat down in amazement, “Lee is hanging out with the cool kids, but you’re never gonna guess what Ronny just told me?”

“What?” Fred replied, but you already had a feeling what the news was gonna be.

“That kid that ran into the barrier after us, that’s Harry Potter, the Harry Potter.”

“Wicked.” Fred smiled, however his eyes then grew large as he looked towards you, your head turned towards the window.

-When you were all getting off, Fred and George looked over at Lee and stuck their tongues out at him, causing you to smile slightly.

-At the feast Lee slid into the spot next to George, which of course led to a series of teasing, “Oh look who decided to join the big boys again?” George teased

“Who are you again, Levi, Jason, Kevin?” Fred taunted

“Oh what Lee, did the girls turn you down?” You asked with a smile as Lee rolled his eyes, expecting nothing less then that from the group of you.

“Haha very funny guys, and for your information [Y/N], Angelina actually agreed to go to Hogsmade with me on our first trip.”

-The boys immediately started to chatter about the prospect of Lee making moves on Angelina, but your attention was pulled away by the doors of the great hall swinging open. As always a hoard of 11 year olds filed into the great hall, McGonagall leading them towards the hat that would decide their house. As the pack pasted your eyes were searching for one little boy, but instead you found Ron, who wasted no time waving at you and the boys as he passed. Waving back though you saw the boy beside him, and watched as he continued to walk away, as you did, you caught the eyes of Snape, his own eyes glued to the boy whose face would remind him of yet another one of his childhood tormentors.

-As they called the children one by one you couldn’t help but chuckle at Fred and George’s banter, “Imagine if Ronnie gets put in Slytherin, Mum would have a heart attack.”

“I don’t think he would ever be cut out for Slytherin, honestly with how much he eats, he will probably be a Hufflepuff, that way he is closer to the kitchen.”

-Before you could add your two cents into the topic, you heard his name, “Ronald Weasley.”

You watched the small ginger boy approaching the stool, and as he went to sit down you shot him a reassuring smile, knowing there was only house where the Weasley Family belonged. The hat didn’t even touch his ginger hairs before it screamed out, “Gryffindor!”, causing your whole friend group to erupt into cheers, as George and Lee scooted over to make room for the newest lion.

-After a few more minutes you heard his name, a hush overtook the hall as some whispered, “The Harry Potter?”

-As he approached the stool, Dumbledore’s eyes found yours, your frame leaning forward as you waited for the hat to speak, praying he would go anywhere but Slytherin. You had no idea that Dumbledore was even watching how you reacted, knowing that you wanted nothing more then for him to be in Gryffindor, that way you could finally get to know the boy whom was supposed to practically be your cousin.

-Fred’s hand slipped to your thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze, he was the only one who knew how much the hat’s words would affect you. He was praying that he got gryffindor, that way it was easier for you to befriend him.

-When the hat screamed out Gryffindor, you and the boys all rose to your feet, along with the rest of the table, and cheered. Your cheer was by far the loudest. The small boy made his way towards you, and plopped right next to you, across from Ron, and the guys leaning around you to clap him on the shoulder.

-Once the sorting was over, and the food had appeared you all began introducing yourselves to the first years. George of course lead the introductions, “So this is Lee, the charmer who has the loudest voice, I’m George, The handsome twin, this is Fred, the slightly less handsome twin, and that’s [Y/N], she is basically our mum.”

“Mum would be pissed if she heard that.” Ron replied, as he stuffed his mouth with mashed potatoes, causing you to smile, “No Ronnie, she would absolutely agree.”

-You couldn’t help but look at Harry out of the corner of your eye as you all chattered at the feast table.

-That night when Percy took all the first years to the common room, you stayed at the table with the boys, just chatting and catching up. That was until Professor Dumbledore appeared behind George and Lee, his eyes on you as you looked up from Lee’s story and made eye contact with the headmaster. “Miss Black, a word?”

“Course headmaster.” You replied, quickly swinging out of the table before watching him go back down the aisle towards the facility table, your motions matching his in the opposite aisle until you both met at the end, without even a look he made his way towards the hidden chamber hidden underneath the Great Hall, the floor littered in the many treasures of Hogwarts, fully carpeted, the fire roaring as McGonagall slowly rose from the chair placed infront of the fire.

“Minerva, Albus, what if the meaning of this?” You asked, eyebrow arched as Dumbledore took a soft breath, “Your uncle informed me your first year that you were in corespondences with your father.”

“Firstly, the people I am in contact with is no importance to you, and secondly, why are you choosing now to make this a topic of conversation?”

-He was quiet for a second, his long finger going to his half moon spectacles to push them farther up his crooked nose, before he turned his head to look at McGonagall. However just by the expression on both of their faces you knew.

“You think I am going to tell him about Harry...” you whispered.

“We are just concerned for the boy [Y/N]. You have seen the state of the boy, and I have seen his family, they are horrid muggles. We don’t want him to deal with a harder life then he already has, and many death eaters would love to...” McGonagall started, however you were quick to cut her off.

“Then you shouldn’t have ever let him go to them, you should have sent him straight to us, Remus was one of the Potter’s best friends, and in the event of my father being wrongly accused...”

“James and Lily stated they didn’t want to send him to Mooney!” Dumbledore’s voice was raised as your eyes grew in frustration, “They specifically stated if something were to happen to them, if Harry was in need of rehoming... he was to go to either your father, or his Aunt Petunia. Seeing how your father was unable to care for him, we respected the Potter’s wishes and sent him to live with Lily’s sister.”

“Yet he was good enough to raise me?” You snapped.

“It was what your father would have wan...”

“What my father wanted.” You interrupted him with a chuckle, “What my father wanted was to raise his own daughter, for someone to defend him when he was framed for murdering his friends, yet None of you saved him from Azkaban. So do not tell me about what my father wanted Albus.”

-A pause lingered in the air after your words slipped from your lips, your blood boiling as you hissed, “I didn’t plan on telling my father a word anyway, so if you will excuse me, I would like to go back to my common room?”

“You are dismissed Miss Black.” Dumbledore’s voice was soft as you stormed from the hidden room and into the Great Hall, not even stopping to talk to the boys, who all turned to see you leave when they saw Fred perk up.

-When the grand doors slammed behind you, Lee mumbled, “What do you think they said to piss her off so badly?”

-He got no reply, because as soon as the door slammed both Weasley boys were up, and hurrying towards the door themselves, hoping you hadn’t gotten too far.

-They saw you on the stairs, you were almost to the Fat Lady when George called out, “[Y/N]!” This caused you to stop your ascension up the stairs, your hand gripping the railing as they also stopped, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just.... I’m just tired.”

“Bullshit, we know when you’re lying [Y/N].” Fred replied as you gave a dry chuckle, “Nothing gets past you two does it?”

“Nope, we figured after all this time you would have figured that out by now.” George replied, as you slowly turned, your eyes red and glassy as the tears threatened to fall, causing George and Fred to Easter no time bolting up the stairs, and almost tackling you onto the steps as they hugged you.

-They sat in the common room with you, they got the small table you all always sat at and pulled out the Wizard Chess board. George looked at you and smiled, “Ready to lose Black?”

“In your dreams Georgie.” You forced a smile, as Fred looked between the two of you, a smile on his face as you moved your pawn to D4.

-Each twin took a turn playing you, and acted baffled when you won. However you knew they were letting you win, cause when it came to games the Weasley Twin sometimes went for blood.

-After you played both twins once, you looked at them, “So now you and George are gonna destroy each other.”

“Bullshit, I want a rematch.” George barked, playfully pushing Fred from the seat as you smiled, Fred dramatically fell out of the chair and pretended to scoff at his brother as he took the observer’s spot.

-After round 2 against Fred, the younger Weasley, and Harry had joined the table, each standing on a side of George as you easily took Fred’s king. “You are getting sloppy.” Ron voiced.

“You think you can do better Ronald?” Fred asked, eyebrow raised, “You try.”

“Is that okay?” Ron asked you, a blush spreading across his cheeks as you grinned, “Course Ronnie, Fred, Move.”

-Ron won against you, a grin on his face as his knight claimed victory against your king. “You definitely cheated.” You joked

-Ron looked at Harry, “Harry, you wanna try? I promise playing against [Y/N] is easy.”

“I haven’t a clue how to play.” He whispered, as you joked, “It’s okay, I’ll go easy on you.”

-When Harry took the seat across from you, you turned the board around, making it so that he was allowed to make the first move. “You just gotta tell them where you want them to go.”

-The whole time you played, you were giving tips to him, along with the three ginger boys, however whenever Harry had a question, he asked you.

-Harry won the first game, to which he smiled wide, “I won?”

“Looks that way, now one of them have to try to beat you.” You smiled, looking to Fred, “Wanna try knocking him out Freddie?”

“Alright, but I’m not gonna go easy on him just cause he is a first time player.” Fred replied as you switched spots. However Harry looked over to you, “think you could... maybe...”

-He didn’t even have to finish the question, your feet guiding you to the small space between his seat and the wall, your arms crossed as you watched, offering help to him whenever he asked.

-He won against all of the Weasleys, the last one he played was George, who replied, “You know it is no far that it was 2 against 1.”

“And he’s never played before, we did the same thing when Charlie taught Ginny how to play when she was 5.”Ron replied, as George crossed his arms, “Yes but Charlie didn’t have our strategies memorized like [Y/N].”

“You’re just pouting because a first timer beat you, don’t worry Georgie, your ego will bounce back.” You smiled.

-After Harry beat George, the two younger boys excused themselves to their corridors, while George stretched and muttered something about going to his trunk quickly to get the prank journal. When he left the table Fred looked at you, “So your dad was best friends with the Potters?”

“Yeah, he was.” You whispered, “They basically were family to my dad, like I called his parents my grandparents. Uncle Remus told me that James was the first person other than his mum to see me, and that when I was a baby I adored him, I would cry whenever him or Aunt Lily left the room. I still have pictures too from their wedding in my room, not a day goes by that I don’t think about them.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” His hand stretched towards your hand, as it slowly cupped around yours.

“I figured it wasn’t important.” You lied. Truth was you didn’t want him to put it together, you were scared that you would lose all of them if they knew your dad was in Azkaban, for betraying the Potter’s.

-Fred’s hand didn’t leave yours, even when George returned to discuss all the pranks they had plotted without you. It felt comfortable, and while you and Fred thought nothing of it, George definitely noticed.

-When you all finally went your separate ways to go to bed, George bumped his twin on the shoulder, “So are we gonna talk about that?”

“About what?”

“About what, this boy tells me about what, as though him and [Y/N] haven’t been holding hands for over an hour.” George muttered, as Fred smiled, “Honestly George, it’s not a big deal.”

“Fred, just ask her to Hogsmeades already.” He instructed, “That way I can stop watching you try to suppress your feelings towards her.”

-When the boys went to Potions that morning, they were so excited that their first class was with you. However their smiles fell when you weren’t there at your normal table. The next class they had was Care of Magical Creatures, and when they saw you there, George was the first to state, “You missed Potions?”

“Sorry, I must have forgotten to tell you, I... Ummm dropped potions. I have a private tutoring lesson now for it with Dumbledore.” You replied.

-Both boys went up to McGonagall later that day, and asked if she could ask Dumbledore if they could join you. When she asked, his smile grew, “Of course they can join.”

-Dumbledore apologized for his outburst when you went to his office for the potion lesson, to which you stated, “All is forgiven.”

-Your father still hadn’t written you.... which was concerning. However it didn’t stop you from writing to him daily.

-You wrote to Remus about what Albus said to you, to which he replied by writing Albus a long letter explaining that if he ever did that again, he would be going to Hogwarts directly to correct the interaction.

-A week after classes started, Fred walked up beside you, “Hey [Y/N]?”

“Yes Freddie?”

“You know how we are going to be going to Hogsmeade at the end of the month?”

“You mean we aren’t sneaking into Hogsmeade for once in the dead of night and going legitimately now, when everything is open?” You replied with a grin, as you reflected on all the times you used the Marauders Map to sneak into the village, hoping Charlie, and Percy never saw you.

“Yeah, well I was wondering if you would wanna go with me?”

“I thought we were all going together? I mean Lee is going with Angelina, but I assumed you, George and I were...”

“Nevermind, it was a stupid question...” he stated, “I mean I should have just assumed you were going with us.”

-George and Lee were so proud of Fred for asking you on proper date finally, however when they saw how upset he looked they questioned his appearance, “She ummm didn’t realize I was asking her on a date.” Fred replied, causing both boys to fall silent.

-Dumbledore loved having the three of you, and found that soon his favorite part of the day was your class. Some days it felt as though you all exchanged stories more than learned anything.

-You spent at least one night a week at Hagrid’s hut discussing life over tea. It was here that he told you about his plan to make Harry a scrapbook of pictures of his family. You gladly agreed to help.

-Your first school trip to Hogsmeade was a ball, you three started off at Three Broomsticks, and drank three large mugs of butter beer each. Fred was insistent on paying for yours, and once you finally agreed George joked, “You paying for mine too?”

-You then looked at Fred with a grin, “It’s only fair.”

-After The Three Broomsticks you three ventured to Honeydukes, where you all gawked at the endless rows of sweets.

-Before you left you bought 5 cauldron cakes, along with 10 chocolate frogs and a tin of Sugared Butterfly Wings.

-You ended the trip at Zonko’s, where Fred and George gawked over everything in the store. Both boys touching everything and turning it in their hands, as they observed the products. While they were doing that you had managed to wander away slightly, and bought two nose biting tea cups. Placing them into your bag you walked back over to the boys, who were debating quite loudly who to prank with the dungbombs.

-Upon getting back to Hogwarts you gave two of the five cauldron cakes to Ron and Harry, then you tossed the tin to Harry, and looked at Ron, “Now don’t go eating these all in one night.” You instructed before reaching into your bag and pulling out the ten chocolate frogs. The boys both look at you with sheer joy, and thanked you for the gifts.

-You also gave the twins their cauldron cakes, and the tea cups, both looked at the off white porcelain and muttered, “Wicked.”

-That night Fred sat next to you at dinner, and as soon as Lee sat down you asked, “Soooooo, how’d it go with Angelina?”

“She didnt show, she was supposed to meet me at the tea shop. So I just came back here.”

“Why didn’t you come find us, we told you we would be at the Three Broomsticks before we separated?” George asked

“I didn’t want to drag you guys down. How was it though?” He asked, his frown turning up a bit as George went into a monologue about the trip, leaving you and Fred to just listen as you slowly devoured the food on your plates.

-That night when you were turning in for the night you looked towards Angelina’s four poster, “So why did you do it?”

“Do what?” She asked confused

“Agree to go on a date with Lee Jordan, but instead you stood him up? Let me guess, you and Katie thought it would be a better idea to go to the hair salon and get your hair done?”

“Last I checked what I did was none of your business [Y/N].”

“It is when you hurt my best friend’s feelings, so this is how it is going to go, you are going to apologize to him before your first class, you are going to be honest with him about your feelings and than you are going to make it up to him by actually going with all of us next time. And if you don’t, I’ll hex your broom, and make your hair change colors, do I make myself clear?” Your tone was menacing, and you knew Angelina was aware that you were the brightest witch of your year.

-She agreed to the terms, and that morning at breakfast Lee sat down smiling, “So Angelina apologized, and you’re never gonna guess why she stood me up?”

“Why?” Fred asked, before shoving a fork full of eggs into his mouth.

“Turns out she was on a date with Oliver.”

-When the boys told you that Harry was on the Quidditch team you were ecstatic.

-However that first game you were nervous for him, and nearly lost your mind when he crashed onto the pitch. However as soon as he spit up the snitch you cheered the loudest.

-When the broom started to jerk around in the air, you were trying to see who could have been muttering a hex on it, as you muttered a counter curse. That’s when you saw Snape mouthing something, but you knew Snape’s behaviors well enough to know he would never try to charm Harry’s broom.

-The next trip to Hogsmeade Angelina joined, as promised, and actually had a lot of fun. After when you were all walking back you bummed her arm lightly, “Thanks for that by the way.”

“No problem, maybe Oliver will want to come to the next one, then we can have a double date kinda.”

“How?”

“You and Fred....”

“Fred and I aren’t dating.” You stated softly, “We’re just friends.”

“This coming from the girl who shared a butter beer with him, and who he gave his jacket to when you said you were cold.” She laughed, “I don’t know about you, but that seems an awful lot like you two are dating.”

-That night you and Harry actually stayed up late talking, you never brought up anything about your lives crossing, but you just talked. It was a common occurrence.

-Yes he twins were jealous of Harry at one point, but that was just because after every quidditch match you would go congratulate him first. However when you would go congratulate them you would wrap them both into tight hugs, and suggest going to Three Broomsticks to celebrate with Fire Whiskey.

-On the night of Halloween when you were all sent back to the common rooms you were frantically looking around for Ron and Harry, your heart racing as each second ticked by. When you finally saw the two dirty boys and the mousy brown haired mess of curls you went rushing over to Harry and engulfed him in a hug, “Don’t scare me like that again you two.”

-After that day, Hermoine joined your group, which you liked, because you knew how beneficial it was for the Twins and Lee to have a girl in their friend group.

-She loved getting to know you, because you challenged her intelligence daily.

-Fred never brought up you both going to Hogsmeade together again.

-One night while you were helping Fred with his transfiguration homework, you both feel asleep on the love seat. Harry woke you both up the next morning before going to his first class.

-As always you finished the term with the top grades in your class, and for once the Twins got higher than a A in potions.

-You drew names for secret Santa that year, however one of you kept drawing your own names, so finally after drawing names 20 times, you finally got your person, who happened to be George.

-The twins begged you to stay at Hogwarts that year, knowing that you couldn’t invite him to have Christmas at your house. As much as you wanted to stay though you told him you had to go home. You needed to see your Uncle, and get pictures for Hagrid’s secret project.

-You sat alone on the train ride back, and watched the countryside whiz by.

-Remus was so excited when he saw you get off the train, and you wasted no time running up to him to give him a hug.

-Over the holiday, you had made arrangements to stay at Hogwarts with Hagrid for the full moon. You were not allowed to go to the actual castle because you didn’t want the boys finding out why you were there.

-On the car ride home, you were informing him of Hagrid’s plan, and he quickly agreed to donate a few photographs to the cause.

-As soon as you got home you started going through the old photo box, Remus was insistent however that no pictures of the other Marauders or the first Order would be included. However he thought it was fine that you included a photo from James and Lily’s wedding, where they were holding you while dancing.

- Remus had told Hagrid you would both be attending Christmas dinner at his house, meaning you were going to be at Hogwarts. You also knew that Harry and Ron might stop in, since Hagrid and Harry had gotten so close.

-As soon as you got to Hagrid’s, you saw all the boys playing in the snow through the window. Hagrid poured your tea and stated, “They all came to wish me a merry Christmas, figured I let them play in the snow with Fang for a bit. I must say though, those two twins haven’t been the same since you left [Y/N].”

“I figured they would have been overjoyed that there was no parental figure there anymore to harp on them.” You joked before sitting down next to your father, and sipping your tea.

-Hagrid got teary eyed looking over the pictures you and Remus had picked out. However he tried to cover it, “it feels like only yesterday you were little like this [Y/N], now look at you, all grown up, getting the highest marks of the grade.”

-He got you a biker jacket for Christmas, it was all black, and had little studs in it. “Your father had one just like it when he was here, I figured it was only fair you had one too.”

-Remus got you a cassette player, and a few of the classics. When you opened it your mouth gaped open, “I love it.”

“I figured you would, it was something your father brought back with him one summer after staying with Uncle James, he took it everywhere with him and blared all this muggle music.” Remus smiled, as you popped in a tape and pressed play, as Queen started blasting out of the speaker.

-“There’s one more present for ya too, Dumbledore delivered it this morning. I guess Molly sent all the boys presents here, along with one for you.” Hagrid pulled the familiar brown wrapped present out from under his little tree beside the couch. A cute little golden bow was stuck on the top of it. As you unwrapped it you expected to see just the sweater, however on top of it laid a enevelope, with your name beautifully written across the front. As you carefully opened it, you couldn’t help but listen to Remus’s laughter as he watched Harry playing with the Weasleys in the snow, “It appears as though one of your boys just tackled Harry into the snow.”

-You knew that just seeing Harry from afar was going to give Remus so much joy. You turned and whispered, “Of course he would.”

-Inside the enevelope was a card, on the front you noticed it had hand drawn flowers littered all over, with your name once again printed on the front in the same handwriting. Inside the letter small specks of glitter started to float out, and you couldn’t help but smile when you saw her message, “Hope your Christmas is magical.”

-Your sweater that year was a dark forest green and the letter was in a light grey, as though you were a Slytherin. You slipped it on immediately.

-You had stayed late at the hut, sipping tea and laughing. Occasionally you had peaked out the window to watch the boys but as soon as the sun started to set they had all retreated to the castle, and Fang came back to the hut. As soon as Fang saw you, he leapt onto the couch and rested his head on your lap, his eyes immediately shutting as you pet him. Soon he was fast asleep.

-However in less than an hour there was a knocking on the door, which Hagrid answered, expecting that the other professors had come to join you all for dinner, however when he opened it, he was greeted by two tall, slightly muscular, ginger boys with red cheeks, and huge smiles. “Where is she?” They both stated at the same time.

“Where’s who?” Hagrid was blocking the doorway, so neither saw you turn on the couch to look back at the back of Hagrid’s frame.

“[Y/N].” They both stated, before pushing past him and into the hut. As soon as they saw you looking at them, they both lifted their arms and cheered loud enough to wake up Fang, before running around either side of the couch and engulfing you in a hug. Remus chuckling as Hagrid whispered, “Howd they know?”

“Call it best friend intuition.” Remus replied, knowing fully well that they probably saw your name on the map.

-You also knew that’s how they knew you were here.

-You all moved to the floor, Fang curled up in his bed as you were seated between the two gingers, each of you joking amongst yourselves as Remus watched. As soon as you saw Hagrid put the apron on though you were standing up, and hurrying over to help, grabbing your own apron to throw on as you helped him extract the food from the oven and stove. the boys had also gotten up to help but Remus stopped them, “Don’t even try boys, they have a system on doing this.”

-After dinner you and the boys went outside to play in the falling snow, both boys wasting no time throwing snow at you, before tackling you into the cold. As soon as the snowball fight started both boys picked you up at some point, and threw you over their shoulder as they ran through the snow. Laughter filling the air as you all raced around in the dark snowfall, hurling small bulger sized balls of snow and ice at one another.

-As you all played in the snow, Remus and Hagrid sat inside the hut and talked, at some point Hagrid looked at Remus, “Thank you by the way.”

“For what?”

“The pictures, I know that these were probably hard for you to part with.”

-After two hours outside the Weasley Twins and you were laying in the snow, watching the snow float onto your faces, your bodies slowly sinking into the frozen water flakes. Remus opened the door and looked out into the darkness, watching the snow softly land on the three of you before calling out, “It’s time to go home Love.”

-This caused you to quickly sit up, the boys slowly mimicking your action as you looked to either of them, “Well boys, it’s been entertaining.”

“Do you think Remus will let you stay?” George whispered as you looked towards him, you smile falling slightly as you replied, “Sadly no boys, but don’t worry, I’ll be back before know it.”

-Hugging the boys goodbye was harder then you expected, and before heading into the hut you watched both of them ascend up the stairway towards the castle. Once inside you and Remus quickly used the floo powder system to return to the cabin.

-Two days later you returned to the hut, and spent the night with Hagrid and Fang. Those days you were there Fred and George never opened the map, so they had no idea you had returned the castle.

-While you were there you and Hagrid made a handful of bake goods, and over a dozen cups of tea.

-When you got on the train, it was really strange not sitting with Fred and George, however Lee saved you a seat in the booth with him, Angelina, Katie, Oliver and Lavender Brown.

-When you got to the platform, you heard your name loudly exclaimed, turning you saw the red headed, younger twin race towards you, arms wide open as you opened your own, and collided with you. His tighting squeeze engulfing you as Lee chuckled, “Goodness I wish you greeted me like that George.”

“I absolutely do, you just never notice when I do.” George replied, as you rolled your eyes.

“Speaking of your better half, where is he?” You rebuttaled

“Back at the common room, he claimed that he didn’t feel well.” His fingers made the quotation hand gestures when he said didn’t feel well.

-When you were in the common room you saw Harry in his H sweater, and couldn’t help but smile, “So you are part of the tradition now too?”

- That night You, and the three boys sat around the fireplace, the soft glow of the flames highlighting Fred and George’s faces as you and Lee sat facing them, each of you held boxes on your lap as you each joked and discussed your holidays. Finally it was Lee who spoke up, “Well I’ll go first, I got Fred.”

-As he handed the box to Fred you couldn’t help but chuckle, since Lee had already told you what he had put in the box. Fred’s eyes shifted between the two of you as he slowly started tearing the paper, “It’s not a dungbomb that’s about to go off is it?”

“No, besides if it were, why would we all be sitting around you?” Lee answered.

-Inside was a self help book on maintaining healthy, romantic relationships, he read it and looked horrified, and then asked, “Do you think I’m gonna be a shitty boyfriend?”

“No mate, just figured you would just need all the help you can get.”

-You went next, “Well I got George. However I have to apologize in advance, cause I didn’t get you a relationship self help book, but if you need to I am sure Fred will let you burrow his.”

-When George opened his box, he revealed a maroon and golden scarf, with a matching hat. On top of the hat was a small pompon. He looked to you as you replied, “Your mum taught me how to knit last summer.”

-He immediately put it on.

-Fred went next, and tossed the box to Lee, “Merry Christmas mate.”

Inside the box was a tiny cube, which was painted a metallic orange color. There was no opening to it, or any other indications of what it actually was. However Fred was beaming with pride as Lee turned it in his hands, and finally he asked, “What is it?”

“A prototype, George and I cooked it up while you were gone. It is the first prototype of a product we would like to create for our joke shop, and there will be a secret trigger word which will cause it to multiple and release a foul smelling gas.”

“Fred accidentally set it off though when he was wrapping it though so sadly it won’t work, but it took Flich a whole week to get the stink out of the common room.” George added as you looked at the product in Lee’s hand.

“What if instead it was a wind up toy, that way you couldn’t accidentally set it off.” You suggested, as both Fred and George looked at you, the wheels in their head spinning as they processed your suggestion.

-Finally George spoke, “You’re a genius Black.”

-George looked at his lap, “So I got you a present, but Mum hasn’t sent it yet.”

Your eyebrow raised, “Do I get to know what it is?”

“No, it’s a surprise, but I am really sorry it isn’t here yet.”

“It’s fine Georgie, just means now I’m not gonna talk to you till it comes.” You joked.

“You can’t be serious.” He whined, as you looked to Fred, “Freddie, why isn’t George here?”

“He’s in the hospital wing, gave himself a black eye from slipping in the court yard.”

“Come on guys this isn’t funny.” George whined, revealing much to his unamusement that all of his friends had also joined in on the joke.

-For a week whenever you were all together you would make up different sonarios as to why George wasn’t hanging out with you all. Whenever he spoke you would also joke that George was using telepathy to speak to you all. However when you were not all together, you would interact with George. You apologized as well for starting the joke.

-The day the present came, George slammed it on the table in front of your group, “Here it is.”

“Bloody hell George, where have you been all week, we were worried sick.” You sighed as you looked at the ginger.

“Well it all started when I was trying to prank you guys, but Snape saw me before I could pull it off, and he locked me in detention for a week in the dungeon, and had me organized his ingredients and potion cabinets.”

“That sounds awful.” Lee exclaimed as you pointed towards the box, “So what’s this?”

“That is your present Miss Black, which I request you open at your earliest convenience.”

“Well I better open it after I finish my 5 parchment paper, and save the world, and...” you joked as you snatched the box from him.

“Don’t forget you also have to babysit Fang, and you told Harry you would play quidditch with him.” Fred interrupted.

“You also said you would do mine and Freddie’s parchments as well.” Lee added

-When you opened it you were treated with a red velvet box, and turned it in your hand, “What’s this George?”

“Open it to see.” He instructed, before looking to Fred with a smile.

-Inside was a hand painted, white oval. Within the oval was a small, colorblocked painting of a dragon. The outside of the oval was decorated with braided red and white string. As you looked at it, George stated, “Mum picked it up in Romania for me, they call it a Martisor, and they gift it during the Martisor holiday, which they celebrate on the first day of spring. The red and white strings on top are supposed to symbolize that you will have a joyous year.”

“Where did you get this?” You whispered

“Mum picked it up for me in Romania when they were visiting Charlie, that’s why it took so long to get here.” He beamed as you looked at him, “Thanks Georgie.”

Part Five

#harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagines #harry potter one shot #harry potter one shots #harry potter oneshot #hp imagine #hp fanfiction #hp fanfic #hp imagines #hp one shot #hp oneshot #hp one shots #hp oneshots

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satoshi-mochida · 3 years

Link

Publisher Nippon Ichi Software and developer Daisyworld have announced yuri visual novel Kochira, Haha Naru Hoshi Yori for PlayStation 4 and Switch. It will launch on October 28 in Japan.

Get the first details below.

■ Specifications

Title: Kochira, Haha Naru Hoshi Yori

Genre: Yuri Adventure

Platforms: PlayStation 4, Switch

Players: One

Release Date: October 28, 2021 (Japan)

Price: 6,980 yen (7,678 yen with tax)

Developer: Daisyworld

Producer: Gen Sugunuma

Director: Naotaka Ueki (Daisyworld)

Character Designer: Yuu Akinashi

CERO: Pending

Official Website: nippon1.jp

■ Prologue

A virus that is said to have come from space brought unprecedented damage to earth.

A long time has passed since that catastrophe, and now there are only the six of us in Ikebukuro.

The city has shrunk in size, and its buildings have been toppled and decorated with green grass and blue water.

The scent of an air conditioner comes from somewhere…

“This is Mother Earth!” And we’re doing good today!

When We Woke Up, We Were on a Cruise Ship

One morning, Kanako and five other girls woke up on a cruise ship. The inside of the ship was silent, with no traces of any other people. The only memory they were able to recall were each other’s names and the fact that they were on vacation together. With nothing else they can do, they began to exploring the ship.

We’re the Only Ones on this Ship

While exploring inside the empty ship, a lifeless announcement rings through the PA. “We are terribly sorry, but due to engine problems, this ship will seize sailing for a while. A rescue crew will arrive in one week.” The ship is broken, but it doesn’t seem it will sink anytime soon, and rescue will arrive if they just be patient. Kanako and the girls wonder why there is no one else on board, but decide to enjoy their time on the ship.

The Rescue Crew is Not Coming?

A week passed since the announcement, but the rescue crew never came. Kanako and her friends search the ship for a solution to their problem. Through their search they find a door that leads outside the ship. The decide to step outside the door.

Ikebukuro, the Big City with No Sign of Mankind

The world outside of the ship was an Ikebukuro in ruins. No other humans could be found in this Ikebukuro reclaimed by nature. The six girls surprised by the big city outside of the ship start their struggle for survival in Ikebukuro.

The Bonds of the Six Girls Grow through Life in Ikebukuro

In a Ikebukuro with nobody but themselves, the girls must prepare their own food and shelter. Kanako and friends help each other to make their life in the wild better for themselves. Eating together and sleeping together strengthen their bonds everyday.

The Truth About this City

Many mysteries are to be found in Ikebukuro. Kanako and her friends were too occupied to care for themselves, and did not bother trying to investigate them. But a certain incident takes them closer to why this world came to be.

■ Bonds Deepened through Survival Life

The girls sill show many expressions through their everyday struggle for survival. As they spend time together, they will find a special person and become closer at their own pace.

■ Characters

Kanako Tokio (voiced by Ayaka Fujii)

“Its going to be A-okay, if we search together!”

Age: 16

Birthday: October 3

Hobbies: Going on cruises

The protagonist of this title. A cheerful and positive minded girl who always stands by anyone who is feeling down. Her motto is, “It’ll be alright, so let’s enjoy!” Kanako rubs off on the other girls, who start challenging new things. She feels she had something to tell Akira, but she is unable to remember…

Akira Kanasashi (voiced by Asuka Kawakami)

”I’ll do anything to get a comfortable living space.”

Age: 15

Birthday: July 21

Hobbies: Cooking

A tomboy who is half-Japanese and half-Danish. She is often the one to bring back the conversation topic whenever the others go on a tangent. She is a skilled cook and has a motherly way of teaching others how to cook. She cherishes the Danish word “Hygge,” which means “a place that feels cozy,” and challenges many things for her peers.

Saori Hiki (voiced by Aitsuki Nakuru)

“OK, I’ll do it for everybody…”

Age: 17

Birthday: August 29

Hobbies: Reading

A college student who is studying space engineering. She knows a lot about machines, and is surprisingly athletic. She loves reading and picks up a lot of knowledge about survival from worn out books found in Ikebukuro.

Motoko Honda (voiced by Masaki Mizuki)

“Everyone’s favorite little sister Motoko, is back with a new cute outfit!”

Age: 13

Birthday: March 11

Hobbies: Taking selfies

A childish little sister-type that always want to be the center of attention. She is a natural moodmaker and often the things she says that she wants happen to make the quality of life better for the group. Since she is the youngest, she sometimes feel anxious. In those times she wishes that the others will hug her until she calms down (preferably Saori).

Natsuki Namiki (voiced by Nanako Oomoto)

“I’ll open it then, Can you guys line up from least scared to most?”

Age: 17

Birthday: February 9

Hobbies: Cosplay

A reliable girl who usually takes things at her own pace. She often disregards others, but can accept many things as “interesting” and observe what is happening. Harumi claims that Natsuki was born under a lucky star, and often makes new discoveries.

Harumi Azuchi (voiced by Nanahira)

“Fortunetelling is supposed to be used to live a better life.”

Age: 15

Birthday: June 1

Hobbies: Astrology

She likes astrology and tells everyone about their compatibility with each other. She thinks fortunetelling is like “a weather forecast for life,” and regards it just as a rule of thumb. She is always levelheaded and aloof, but can sometimes become surprised by the unexpected words that come out of Natsuki’s mouth.

View the first screenshots at the gallery.

#Kochira Haha Naru Hoshi Yori #Daisyworld #Nippon Ichi Software #visual novel #yuri #Gematsu #long post #Hoping for a localization announcement.#Kinda similar premise to 'To All of Mankind' but as a VN this time.#Google Translate lists the title as 'Here From Mother Star'.

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ficsnroses · 4 years

Text

Friends With Benefits Chapter 8 - Keanu Reeves x Reader

Chapter VIII ~ The Death of Us.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Word Count : 3.7K

Warnings : so much angst omg. nsfw, smut. crying?

Series Summary : What happens when two, lonely friends start seeing each other for sex? A tricky friends with benefits love story, when feelings get in the way.

A/N : Oh gosh. Welcome back, three more chapters after this! let’s get this show wrapped up by June. Feedback is so so greatly appreciated, please do leave comments if ya get a sec :)

Chapter 7 Recap : Keanu and Y/N sort out their argument, and Y/N apologizes for her behaviour. They spend an evening together, and Keanu decides he’ll put his feelings aside to keep Y/N happy; keep their relationship as solely fwb and nothing else. However, after ending up in bed together again, Y/N leaves Keanu’s home in tears late into the evening, unable to bear the reality, that their relationship will perhaps never be more than just sexual.

Being lost; when the mind and heart won’t work in harmony.

You’ll find peace,

Through harmony, they whisper.

The untouched hills and thick ash clouds promise solitude, they become tempting as the streetlights pass, light fading away before shot back up in the next lamppost’s amber glow. Beyond the hills, they cease. The surrounding land falls remote, only whispers of gusty dry wind and occasional howl of the nightly residents breaking amity. A blanket of silence falls the car, the feel of the cold steering wheel riveted in your clammy fingers,

the only tolerable sensation.

Skin frigid, yet your insides burn. A never ending burn- the sensation almost brings you comfort, something strangely familiar as of late; your facial muscles barely twitch, lacklustre formed to the thought of what you’d just run away from. What you’d left behind. Tension, apprehension exaggerated in the lines of his forehead. A faint grimace lingers the planes of your face, heart in agony to the thought of those haunting dusky orbs, drained and spent as he watched you leave.

He has a heart of gold, and you know you’re killing him. He cares for the ones who mean something to him far too much. You’re hurting him. You know it. It felt as if you’d constantly been pushing him, pulling him, never quite finding the balance you craved.

After all, only your weak, mortal shell remains, the breeze filtering in from the slightly cracked passenger window a residual grace to your skin.

Your dreary mind never leaves the passing streetlights. They seem almost as pulses of light, rhythms of transition on your tedious drive home. The light comes back around just when you start to need it most; the piercing glow ignites your way,

fleetingly although.

Even the streetlights end down the road- for down the road, never-ending darkness is all that’s left to perverse.

Keanu. Maybe you and Keanu, would be out of streetlights soon.

How long could this go on anyway? When you started out, the rules were clear. Love hadn’t been factored into the equation, yet here you were. You are in love with the only man you weren’t supposed to be with. And you can run from it; from yourself. But you can't be with him around. Not when your relationship is founded on exactly what lovers do- yet a fallacy, for you.

You’d been looming in silence, for what felt like an absurd eternity. Lost in thought, as if silently quarrelling to yourself that you need to let him go. He doesn’t deserve this; you don’t deserve this.

The sudden sputter of the car engine creaking rumbles, the reverberations of turbulence so dense as the turmoil increases, the worn out tires faltering slow. Gravity sinks its nails in, immediately dragging them down,

slow,

before they stop.

Don’t they say, the one you long for never leaves your mind? Your thoughts are free to roam anywhere, chase any reverie, yet it's surprising how often they head in his direction. His words seem to spring as a song well rehearsed, a melody tuned a thousand times. “You need to get rid of this thing, Y/N.” - the ring of his slight chuckle cursing through your remembrance. “It’s going to break down on you someday.” He’d reason, tone thick on concern.

Ingrained on your mind, a thick groan coarses your lips, wheel clenched in your hand. Slammed on the wheel, your palm stings with pierce, frustration copious in each action, each movement.

Of course, this would happen to you. Stranded, at 11:00pm on an empty LA street, your home still miles away awaits. The towers and mechanics would have bid goodnight a while past, and you didn’t quite know enough people in town to call. Apart from,

the same man you’d just practically run from.

Your jaw clenches and your features fall stoic, left no other choice than to see if Keanu could come by. What would he think? Perhaps pity. Perhaps, disappointment. Feasibly, the infamous “I told you so”. Truth be told, he may have been the last person you wanted to see right now. The last person you wanted to ask for help. Perhaps it was your own personal defence mechanism; your chant to the world, to him, that you’re fine. You don’t need someone, even if that someone was him.

A chilled gust of wind propels through the car window, uncertainty broad on your mind. With your fingers gripping the cold frame of your cellphone, you anticipate his voice on the other end, as if in a race with your own mind. Had you even known what to say? What does one say when they’ve practically left you, without reason, knowing it hurt you? Yet again, the universe proves. Your vanity ends in failure.

You’d sworn a breath had caught in your lungs when you heard his voice on the other end, deep and worn, a drowse apparent. He’d probably tried to get some shut eye after the happening of the eve, and yet again, as always, you’d intruded.

“Y/N?” His voice holds confusion. You swallow a lump, unsure of how to start. “Hey,” Adopting a milder, soft tone than when you’d left. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

“Are you okay? Something wrong?” He inquires, a ruffle of movement on the other end. Defeated, your cold hand runs through the weary strands of locks on your head, the smell of burnt gasoline impelling the tip of your senses, dense and robust.

Isn’t it funny, how the smell of gasoline is so pleasurable, even though you know it’s bad?

Guilt. Finding pleasure in the wrong place. It’s not good for you. Why must some of the best things not be good for you?

“I’m on 231st. My car gave out on me.”

There’s a slight silence that falls to the line; unsympathetic, hollow, ambiguous. Would he care? What if he’d been upset over how you’d left tonight? What if he’d finally had enough of these abrupt changes of pace? Keanu and you seemed to never get it right, never finding the balance you so desperately wanted.

In a moment, he begins, more ease to your hurtling mind now. “Don’t go anywhere.” He replies. “Stay in your car, lock the doors and keep your phone close by.” The door slams shut on his end, heavy footsteps pacing to the car. “Be safe, okay? I’m on my way.”

Relief washes over, seeing his tall frame and concerned expression trekking towards your car door. He’d been the last person you wanted to call; yet also the first, the only person you wanted to see. There’s always been something so familiar about him, something so comforting, something you can seem to escape.

The evening air is powered with something indefinite, twilight fallen with the first buzz of mosquitos in the distance. The air stood damp and cool, his features a little softer in the darkness that surrounds.

He opens the car door, allowing you to step out, your gaze unknowingly fixed to the pavement below. Relief shone clear and bright on his face, his urge to pull you to his chest; give you the security you deserved right now strong. Yet, he opts for a mellow hand placed to your shoulder, cautious from the events of the evening prior. “You’re okay?” He asks, giving a gentle squeeze.

“Yeah.” You nod. “Thanks for coming, really.” Assuring, your hand waves slight, a gesture of peace. “I know it’s really late and-” swift, his hand raises, waving off your words, considerate. With a nod of his head, he gestures you towards his car, heavy palm reverting to the small of your back now as he guides you, his need to make sure you’re really safe and okay fresh on his mind.

“My place is a lot closer, I’ll take you with me.” He casually throws out, prepared for the argument he knew you’d put up.

“No, it’s alright, really. You know I’m only 15 minutes from here.” You maintain, turning your gaze his way. With a sigh, he starts again, eyes hefty with please.

“Y/N, please.” His eyes clench shut, features tight and dense, breathing in a deep inhale. “I didn’t want you to leave tonight, but you did. And now this…” The street around you was quiet, dim light and distant cars humming made the atmosphere almost far from comfortable. “Please.” He reiterates. Glancing up towards the moonless black, you bite back another weary sigh. Perhaps…

“Okay.” Sucking in a dull breath, you gesture to his car, him following suit as with your enfeeble bones take place in the passenger seat. With his hand firm on the drive, he pulls onto the dark LA road, his house en route, lines on his forehead exaggerated with concern for the woman he loves so dearly, but can’t have.

You’d been acting strange lately, far too distant for his liking. It seemed as if no matter how hard you both tried, you couldn’t find the balance. Couldn’t find whatever it was you needed to save your sinking ship. And it was eating away at him, killing him to know that undeniably, undoubtedly,

you were slipping away.

even if he never really had you.

It had been a tough night, a tough day for both of you. Yet, his mind only wondered what you were feeling. Were you alright? Did you hate him for making you come back? He needed to be let in so desperately, needed to know what was written out to be far too soon. It had been tough for both of you today, yet he only cared about you. You before him, always. With his eyes briefly diverting to you, staring out the car window with an intent gaze, he shifts his hand slowly, gently to rest over yours on your lap.

To say it hurt him when you flinched, so slightly, barely noticeable, would be an understatement.

It shot daggers in him.

Yet, he offers a gentle squeeze when you keep it in place ultimately. “What are you thinking about?” He offers, voice smooth, expression mildly curious as he turns to look at you, filling the silence.

You stay quiet for a moment, gaze never leaving the mountains outside, passing by. That feeling had come back. The feeling of assurance, the feeling of being safe with him. You almost wished your brain would forget how sheltered he made you feel.

It would make all this a lot easier.

“It was raining not long ago.” You speak, voice soft, low. His lips stiff straight in a thin line, minor hum of nod through his breath. Your tone stays quiet, the thought of him heavier on your mind than the sharp LA mountains outside could ever be. “But it stopped.”

“It always stops” He speaks. “Sooner or later.”

His voice had that gentle hum to it, the serene sedative comfort. And then to the thought of it, you stared out the window, and stared, and stared, and stared.

He placed his hands on your soul,

before reaching for your hips; or your lips. And that was what ruined you.

How did you ever let it get this way? How did you ever let it get

this

way.

Late into the eve, you’d found yourself back exactly where gravity seemed to pull you, each time. There, with him, under him while he made love to you; only the love was what was missing, and with Keanu, it seemed it would always be. He isn’t in this relationship, he never was, never will be. It’s just you, alone, hoping, pleading that he’ll see through you; understand what this is not how you want him.

With the only light in the room filtering in from the moon side glow & the LA city night lights, you feel him on top, weight of his body on yours, his arms on either side of you holding the bed as he thrusts. His features are barely defined, yet you make out a thin line of sweat on his forehead; mouth slightly agape, breaths rugged and low. His chest heaves, cock pulsing inside your clenched cunt, the bed frame rocks, hitting the wall with each jerk. He wasn’t touching you in any other way than his member pumping your warm, wet folds, hastily, a controlled pace steady with his rocking hips. His balls slam, hitting your core each time, loud in the quiet room as you whimper quietly, fingernails sunk into the blades of his shoulders,

and with each slam, you feel yourself further and further realizing,

This isn’t working anymore.

This is all you know with him, so this is what you do. And you know you had no right to be upset over it. This is what you signed up for. You did this. You let it get this way.

These aren’t the sounds you want to hear anymore. This isn’t the way you want to feel him anymore. These sounds, these sinful sounds compare none to what you want, what you need.

You wanted it all,

the soft whispers, quiet laughs shared late into the night. The sound of his pure voice when you haven’t heard it for a while, the gentle hum of his throat when he’d tell you he loves you. The simple, mundane life together. A life where he’s a significant part, but in more ways than just this.

Your bodies shudder with pleasure, but you know it’s only a temporary illusion. You see him, and you want to feel him so close, but not this way. This isn’t what you ever wanted, it was never what you really wanted. That night when you first had sex a year ago should have never happen. And it should have never happened again, and again, and again.

You did this to your friendship. And now it’s too far gone for fixing; too far lost to mend.

This isn’t working anymore.

The morning comes, as it always does. Your bones feel as if they ache, tired eyes needing a moment to adjust to the light around, remembering where you were. In Keanu’s bed, yet the spot beside you lays empty, vacant. Finding yourself bare from the waist under, you remember the sex session the night prior, and you’d opted to leave your bottoms on the bedroom floor as he drifted to sleep, beside you.

Was there even anything to hide from him anymore? Nothing he hadn’t seen a hundred times.

With a lift of the heavy duvet, you barely climb out of the mattress, shimmying on the full of your clothes, before heading downstairs. You should be outta here soon, anyway.

The house air smells of dark coffee, the scent of a morning cigarette barely filtering in from the patio backdoors. You’d always hoped he’d quit the nasty habit, take better care of his health where he could.

Cold tiles trace under your feet, a small yawn elicited when you feel your weary bones ache, wanting nothing more than to go home, away from him for now. Seeing him, being around him was proving to be far too hard. There was no running from it now. It was clear as could be, laid out on the table.

You are in love with him. You know it, and you know it shouldn’t be.

But it is. It so fiercely, truly, is.

You find him stood by the window, gazing beyond the backyard foliage, phone propped to his ear as he speaks low, quiet. Making yourself known with a slight cough, your eyes meet as his frame turns, lips curled to a smile your way. His cocoa orbs look dewy in the morning light, cheeks rosy with a slight excitement, something so warm, so inviting.

You’d wish to hold him in your arms, just that way. Keep him that way forever.

Sitting at the kitchen stool, you wait for him to finish on the line, before you’d let him know of your soon departure. Within a few moments, Keanu retires the phone call, moving your way.

“Morning.” He greets, pouring you a roasty cup of a.m. coffee from the burner.

“I’m okay.” You return, shifting in your seat to sit straighter now. “I’m just about heading out actually, an Uber’s on the way.”

Brows furrowed, he speaks. “You just woke up. Stay, I’ll make us breakfast.” With a sip of his earthy dark, he sets his phone down on the granite counter, a lingering smile catching your eye. “I wanted to talk to you about something, actually.”

Your hands find place in your lap, listening to his words. “Oh...okay. Sure. What’s up?” You inquire, unsure, yet slightly hopeful it may be something you so desperately wanted to hear, something you’d frantically hoped he’d let fall off his lips; that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same.

That maybe, you could find the balance, together.

His hand runs through his overgrown, dusty mocha locks, a small chuckle let off. “Okay, I just got off the phone with an acquaintance who deals autos.” Your expression reverts to plain, a pierce of defeat courses through your nerves. “And there’s this brand new model of a great car. You just need to sign the paperwork and it’s yours. I’ll take care of it.” He tells,

and you swore you’d heard a slight hint of sympathy to his tone. Cold, pitiful,

sympathy. Is that what you were now?

“It would cost more to fix the one you have now than it's even worth.” He explains, watching your expression fall. “And I don’t want you having to worry about it, you deserve a break. Really.” He reasons, trying his best to make out the look on your fallen face.

With your eyes set on the counter below, your thoughts scramble, desperate to gather, choke out a response. But nothing comes out. Nothing at all for the first few moments.

“Y/N?” He asks, head tilting in an attempt to meet your lowered gaze. To be met with assertion; affirmation, is not what he’d thought would come, when the wavelengths of your sunken voice allow into the now colder room air.

Headstrong, yet collected, you regret the words he’d said. “Who do you think you are?” You say, voice low, yet assertive. Your hands unknowingly ball into a fist, emotions running high through your veins. “What is this, charity?” Standing now, you push the counter stool away, finally bringing your irate eyes up to his. “I don’t need your charity.”

“Y/N,” He starts, a hushed breath slipping past his lips as he stares wide eyed. You looked destroyed almost, raw, a sight he felt break at him.

“No.” You stop him, hand moving up to block his trek further. “Don’t.” Whispering, your voice breaks, the feel of complete, and utter, defeat gnawing your bones. There was a dull ache of exhaustion nearing your temple, your forehead pulsing, but you’d gotten very good at disregarding it by now.

His features tense, regret seeped. “Y/N, I didn’t mean it like that.” He reasons, attempts at moving your way shunned as you back away now, toward the door. You force your fingers to relax their deadly clench in your balled fist, eyes shut tight as you desperately pray this wasn’t happening.

It was finally happening.

It was inevitable.

“Y/N,” He pleads, fearful that this time,

the rain would abide for good, transpiring a full fledged storm. And it wouldn’t end.

Not now, not ever. It’s all too much, & the friendship, the companionship feels far gone. It’s turned to sympathy.

You turn his way abruptly, locking eyes, voice dipping into something colder as you begin, tears forming in the corner drops of your eyes. “Did you even bother thinking about how this makes me feel? Or did it not matter because you’re ‘Keanu The Great’, fixing the entire world’s problems? And I’m just another hopeless case in the bunch?” You say louder than intended, lip quivering with a shame that felt wounded, the pain of him becoming more unbearable by the second. He watches you, and it's killing him to see you this hurt.

It’s killing him that he did this. Again. He fucked up, again. He feels the sting of tobacco on his tongue from a burned smoke earlier, but doesn’t look away from your eyes; despite the firm voice inside telling him that he should. He watches you, unable to move. Unable to leave.

Unable to do anything at all to make it alright.

“You’re not…a charity case for me, Y/N. How could you ever think-” He barely manages, voice faltering thick in his deep throat, wanting so desperately to reach out and hold you in the comfort of his arms, explain that everything can be okay again.

Yet his words only seem to add fuel to the fire inside you, voice channeling through the house walls as you dispute. “Not a charity case?’ You fathom, jaw tightened as you try your best to uphold assertion, dominance. “We sleep together, for fuck sake!” You almost cry, feeling each and every wall around you,

Crumble. Crumble to shreds.

“Did you not once think how much this would hurt me? How degrading this feels?” you’d tried hard, yet they’d escaped. The tears escaped; and the end was near.

His legs move again, inching near your feeble frame. “I’m so sorry, Y/N, please, hear me out.” He pleads, reaching for the soft skin of your arm, as you retract away, wiping your bleary eyes. “Okay, I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.” He begs, backing away for your comfort, his own heart breaking piece by piece for his love in front of him, hurting, and it’s all

his

fault.

“Please don’t cry, Y/N. Im sorry, really.” His weary hand runs through his hair, scared, in fear that he’d hurt your relationship forever, and any attempts at being more. “We’ll talk later, sweetheart. Okay?” He tries, hoping the nickname would bring calm to your rage. Noting Keanu’s expression, your watery eyes stay focused on his, sincerely connected, and you allow your features to soften, adopting a milder, more reasoned tone. With your voice cracking, you speak ultimately into the morning air, the words set solid,

forever.

“No we won’t.” You begin, swallowing the lump in your throat. “This isn’t working anymore.” You croak, the tears burning so bad now, filling your eyes. “We’re over.”

And the words pierce through Keanu, as if the bullet of a thousand guns force. His heart drops, left nothing but a gaping hole of dark to fill the void, and the words black out his overthrown mind, pulsing with an ache.

We’re over,

Before we even started.

➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴

>>Part 9>>

In order for my fics to show up in tags, my taglists will be posted in reblogs from now on. Let me know if you want to be added or removed from either this series, or the permanent! :)

#keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves fanfiction #keanu reeves smut #keanu reeves fic #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves fluff #keanu reeves series #keanu reeves ff

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onechicago-upsteadrhekker · 4 years

Text

Here’s another prompt fic and we must be feeling the Christmas spirit because @darkdisrepair just posted a Christmassy fic this morning (which you should definitely check out if you haven’t!) So maybe it’s Christmas in June? I don’t know but I do hope you guys like this one and I miraculously kept it fairly short so I’m super proud of myself for that but if you do like the longer prompt fics, don’t you worry. I have several in the works that I really need to finish and post soon!

So without any further delay @randers198 requested #91 “I just want you to be happy.”

*title comes from Sleeping At Last*

snow

Their living room was lit in the soft glow of the colorful Christmas lights that were wrapped around the live pine tree as the streetlights shone a dim gold through the large windows next to the tree, displaying the peaceful snow that was falling on the already white street.

It was like a scene plucked right out of a Christmas movie.

All the presents had been opened and all the food had been eaten. Night had fallen outside, snow continued to fall and they were snuggled up on the couch after a long day of joy and laughter with their friends and family.

Jay pulled Hailey closer to him and she shifted slightly on his chest, drifting in a light sleep that came with full belly and a happy day that ended in fulfilled exhaustion. He kissed her on the top of her blonde hair, his lips resting there as he ran a hand over her head almost reverently while he stared out the window absent-mindedly.

It truly had been the best Christmas ever. He knew that was cliche to say and he was sure that next Christmas he would be thinking the same thing just as he thought the same thing last year.

But next Christmas not only would it be him and Hailey but there would be happy squeals and giggles as they watched their child experience the wonder of a first Christmas.

Hailey shifted on his chest again, snuggling as close into his side she could get, her small, rounded belly pressed against him. If he stayed still, he could just barely feel a little foot kicking him from inside Hailey’s uterus.

She had been feeling the baby for a few weeks now but it had only been a few days ago that he had been able to feel it too and he was still overwhelmed at the sensation. The proof that there was an actual live baby that he and Hailey had created resting inside of her small bump.

Jay turned his gaze from watching the snow fall to his dozing wife. She was beautiful. There was a glow about her that came with pregnancy and the excitement of Christmas; she looked so young and content, no worry or stress lines marring her complexion. Her loose blonde hair which she had curled slightly shone in the yellow of the Christmas lights.

He moved his head slightly down to kiss her on the forehead again, glancing at his watch, a small smile pulling at his lips, “Hailey,” He whispered against her skin.

She stirred, trying to burrow further into his side but he knew that she was aware of her surroundings, “Hailey,” He whispered again, this time a little louder as he gave her another kiss at her hairline.

He rubbed her shoulder and she popped open an eye, the striking bright blue knocking the air out of his lungs for the thousandth time.

He loved her eyes. He hoped their child would have hers.

“Jay,” She whined quietly as she rearranged herself on his chest, her knees curling up tighter into a ball around her pregnant belly.

He chuckled, moving his mouth down by her ear, “Christmas is almost over.”

Hailey sighed in contentment as she rested her ear over her husband’s steady heartbeat, “And what’s that supposed to mean?” She murmured as a response to mollify him.

“It means that it’s 11:42 and I still have a gift to give you,” He had to hold back another chuckle as both her eyes popped open. She moved to sit up some, a curious gleam in her eyes. No sign of the tired look she’d had a few seconds ago.

“You do?” At his nod, she did a quick glance around the living room but didn’t see anything; under the tree or otherwise. She raised an intrigued eyebrow, trying not to look to eager, “Where is it then?”

Jay stood up from the couch, an impish smile on his face as he offered a hand to help her up.

He had already given her everything she’d mentioned over the past several months as well as some things she would have never thought of but loved and would use. He had even given her a set of earrings that matched a necklace that he had gotten her for her birthday.

She had no idea what else he had up his sleeve.

He lead her up the stairs and down the hall, a satisfied smile on his face and she wondered if her present was hidden somewhere in their bedroom when he stopped in front of the closed door of the room that was down the hall from theirs.

Hailey gave him a suspicious look, “The nursery?”

When they’d bought the house, they knew that one day this room would be used as a nursery because of its convenience to the master bedroom.

It had been pretty much empty until they’d found out Hailey was expecting and over the past couple of months she had been filling it with random baby stuff she had seen and picked up. There were sets of crib sheets and clothes but she hadn’t bought furniture or paint or anything that would really make it a nursery yet.

Jay’s smiled and she could detect a hint of nervousness as he reached out to turn the nob. When he slowly swung the door open, she tore her gaze away from him and into the mostly empty room.

And in the middle of the mostly empty room, among the various Pottery Barn, Crate and Barrel and Target bags sat a brand new rocker with a red bow stuck to the top of it.

It was a soft grey and the rockers were made out of natural wood while the rest of it was upholstered in cushions. It was perfect and exactly what she would have wanted.

“Oh, Jay,” She had a hand to her chest as she felt tears prick her eyes, “It’s perfect.”

Walking a few feet into the room, she turned back to look at Jay who was watching her from the door frame, “So, do you like it?”

“Do I like it?” Hailey let out a chuckle, quickly wiping under an eye, “I love it.”

Jay let out a relieved smile, his face full of love for her and their baby that was growing inside of her. He walked over to her, his hands going to cradle the underside of her still small belly, “And you’re happy?” He asked with soft eyes as she looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

Hailey set her hands on his upper chest, shaking her head in amazement, “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

“Good, I’m glad,” He kissed her on the forehead, “I just want you to be happy.”

She met his gaze, “Jay, as long I’m with you, I’m happy. With you and this baby and if that’s all I ever have, I will be the luckiest and the happiest girl in the whole world. You’re my everything.”

“And you’re my everything,” He murmured back, taking her small hands in his as he leaned down to kiss her on the lips.

After a few minutes, Jay lightened the pressure on the kiss, whispering against her swollen lips, “Don’t you wanna try it out?”

She beamed at him, looking drunk on love and joy and excitement. Extracting herself from Jay’s loose hold, Hailey took the few short steps to reach the rocker and pulled off the bow. She ran a hand over the fabric, inspecting it almost reverently as she slowly turned to sink down into it.

Jay heard her contented sigh from where he stood and watched as she closed her eyes. Her feet moving ever so slightly to rock peacefully.

If that was the last thing Jay ever saw, he would die a happy man and in a few short months, there would be a baby cradled in Hailey’s arms as she sat in that rocker.

It truly was the best Christmas ever but he knew next Christmas would be even greater.

#Chicago PD #hailey upton #jay halstead #jay halstead x hailey upton #they're so cute #this needs to happen #adorable Christmas presents #jay is a good gift shopper #upstead #upstead baby #christmas in june?#Merry Christmas #prompt fic #prompt #fanfiction #upstead fanfic

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our-time-is-now · 3 years

Text

June 13, 2019 (1): Maiden voyage

(previous play)

You can find more information about the authors, translators, content warning and additional information about the plays in the pinned post on our blog.

Saturday, 11:13 am:

David: *today they didn't have breakfast together and instead only ate in small groups because everyone had woken up at different times* *he, Matteo, Abdi, Alex and Mia were the last ones and therefore he, Matteo and Abdi are in charge of clearing the table and doing the dishes although Jonas and Carlos are rushing them as they want to try out the raft as soon as possible* *then he’s part of a discussion about how badly Carlos' foot is injured and if they can expect him to help carry the raft into the water or if they could also manage with only four people and that Carlos shouldn’t act like a baby – until Alex offers to help them with carrying it provided he can join them at the maiden voyage* *is glad that this is the end to the discussion and everyone retreats to their tents and rooms to put on their swimming trunks and swim binders* *now he and the guys are standing next to the raft in the woods and they get directions from Carlos: "Hey, someone has to go to the right side..." and eventually they manage to lift it up with a groan* *groans* Maybe it would have been smarter to build it next to the lake instead of in the middle of the woods... *hears Abdi: "In hindsight one always knows better, Brudi..." and Jonas: "Should we ever built another raft then we'll definitely be smarter... watch out Alex, there's a tree stump..."*

Matteo: *groans and moans all the while* *tells Carlos to shut up when he gives them even more smart tips* *have finally arrived at the water and they pot down the raft right before the lake* *is glad that Abdi doesn't hurt his foot as well and instead jumps back just in time* Okay... guys... you're aware of the fact that we're probably going to sink, right? *hears Jonas laugh: "Oh yes, I've always valued your optimism."* *grimaces* I'm just saying... we should be prepared...

David: *eyes the raft as well and slightly shakes his head at Matteo's words* It'll float! *sees Jonas beam at him: "That's what I wanted to hear!"* *grins and then remembers that he wanted to tell them about Lychen* Lychen, where I'm from, is known as raft-town – they know their stuff there... and when I was 11, I was there when they set a world record for the most people on a raft... *hears Carlos laugh: "Seriously?!” and Abdi ask: "How many people did it hold?”* *nods at Carlos and tells Abdi* I think 442... *sees how everyone is looking at him in surprise and hears Carlos again: "You're kidding us! There's no raft that carries more than 400 people!"* *laughs quietly and nods* There is – it just has to be big enough... you have to google it later... you can even find photos! *then hears Alex: "Okay, let's find out if your dream-ship is a super-marine or a sub-marine... but if David says that it'll float... he's the expert, after all... I think it's best if three of us go to the lake-side and two stay on the land-side. The ground is more uneven in the lake..."* *sees Alex, Abdi and Jonas immediately go toward the lake and therefore stays on the shore with Matteo* *bends down at the same time the others do to lift the raft* On the count of three? *sees everyone nod, but doesn't get the chance to count because just at that moment the girls come running to the jetty – Kiki, Sam and Hanna holding their phones in their hands* *hears Kiki call out to them: "Hold on! We have to save that for posterity..." and sees her point her phone at them* *hears Jonas: "Dude, are you crazy? You guys could also help! This thing is super heavy!"* *hears Hanna: "But who's supposed to film it, then?!"* *groans and repeats* On three! One – two – three! *then heaves up the raft*

Matteo: *sighs when they apparently continue straight away* *waits for the signal* *isn't really bothered by the fact that the girls are filming* *heaves up the raft and carries it with the guys until they're all standing in the water* *hears Jonas: "Okay, and now let's let go of it... slooooowly!"* *lowers it together with the others and then lets go of it carefully* *cheers with the guys when it really floats* Well, that's one thing that's working... *then hears Carlos: "We'll start with the ones that weigh the least... David, get up!"*

David: *holds his breath when they lower the raft into the water and exhales in relieve when he realizes that it really floats* *also cheers with the others, but then hears Carlos' words and laughingly shakes his head* Matteo and I surely weigh the same... he's probably even lighter than me... *hears Carlos and Abdi tell him that he shouldn't make such a fuss and that Matteo had to get on after him because they would slowly work their way up and rolls his eyes at their words* *says in an amused tone of voice* Okay – but it's not my fault if it sinks... *then takes a deep breath and laughs quietly* Okay... *then slowly climbs on the raft* *crawls to the middle and sits down cross-legged* *bobs around a little and grins at the others* You see! It's looking good! Next one!

Matteo: *only laughs when David says that he's lighter* Sure... *sees Jonas grin: "That little charmer..."* *then watches David climb on the raft and hears the girls cheer at the shore when it works* I guess it's my turn... *climbs on the raft and freezes when it sways a little* *but then pulls himself up completely and sits down in front of David* It's working... next one, please... *they climb onto the raft one after the other and it really carries all of them* *then hears the girls laughing on the shore and hears Hanna: "And isn't there something you guys forgot?"*

David: *watches a little amused as one by one everyone carefully climbs on the raft* *at some point spreads his legs and pulls Matteo between them – only so that they save some space and so that they all fit on the raft, of course* *just like the rest of the boys looks at Hanna in confusion when he hears her question and shrugs* *hears Carlos call: "Yeah, right! Beer!"* *laughs and sees Hanna shake her head* *then hears Jonas: "Huh, what do you think we forgot!?" and Mia: "Well, if you wanted to float on the same spot all day long, then everything's alright. But in case you wanted to move, then some oars wouldn't hurt!"* *laughs and looks at the others* Yes, okay, we could have thought of that... *hears Jonas call toward the girls: "Hey, aren't there some oars in those old boats by the jetty? Could one of you go check?"*

Matteo: *didn't mind at all that he had to scoot closer to David, only to save some space, of course* *looks just as confused as the others when no one can think of what they forgot* *then laughs very loudly once they realize what they forgot* *thinks that it's somehow typical* Hey, we'll just use our hands... well, the ones sitting on the edge... *sees Carlos shake his head: "Yeah, no, of course."* *but then sees Kiki go and really return with two old oars* *sees her walk into the water and hand the oars to them* *they all answer in unison: "Thanks, Kiki!"* *sees Carlos and Alex take one oar each and then the raft starts to move* *leans a little more against David and whispers* Somehow I have a bad feeling...

David: *is happy when Kiki really manages to find two oars and even more so when they really start moving* *wraps his arms around Matteo when he leans more against him and grins at his words* *kisses him on the cheek and quietly whispers into his ear* I'll watch out for you should we sink... *hears Carlos groaning: "Hey, that's totally exhausting!" and Jonas: "Hey, Dude, don't be such a baby! Let me!"* *feels the raft sway dangerously and sees some water splash over when Jonas and Carlos switch places but then it calms down again when Jonas starts to row* *they manage to move forward only slowly but they still move quite the distance from the jetty* *eventually hears Carlos: "Hey, Brudis, we really should have brought beer..." and Abdi: "Digga, it's not even 12..." and Carlos again: "So what? A refreshment wouldn't hurt right now – it’s going to be really hot today!"* *sees Jonas grin: "Refreshment? There you go!" and laughs when he sees Jonas splash quite a lot of water toward Carlos* *also gets splashed with some of it and really finds it quite refreshing* *hears Carlos splutter: "Whoa, Jonas, dude, are you ret... umm, stupid?!"* *has already pulled up his eyebrows when Carlos started talking, but then smiles in relief and a little with pride that he managed to turn his sentence around* *hears Jonas laugh and nudges Carlos' side* Hey, come on, it's really refreshing... we should all jump in...

Matteo: *grins when David says that he'll watch out for him* Well I’m really glad... *holds onto David's legs when the raft sways when Jonas and Carlos switch places* *then laughs when Jonas splashes him with water because it's really a refreshment* *hears Carlos' outburst and tenses up briefly* *but then grins when he says stupid* *hears and sees Carlos shake his head: "Sometimes you're really an idiot! David was right!"* *then hears Alex from behind them: "Right about what?"* *answers for Carlos* That we're all idiots, except Abdi... *hears Alex laugh and ask Abdi: "How did you win that title?"* *sees Abdi shrug: "I haven't annoyed David yet."* *then hears Jonas again: "Okay, so what’s it gonna be, guys, in or not?"* *shrugs* Maybe we should take turns? Someone has to stay with the raft...

David: *grins when Carlos said that he was right and nods at his explanation to Alex and grinningly tilts his head when he hears Abdi's suspicion why that is* Let's put it like that: So far, he hasn't said or done anything idiotic in my presence... *sees Alex look at everyone, lift his eyebrows and hears him ask: "And all the others did?!"* *sees everyone nod and hears Carlos say: "But with Abdi it's also only a matter of time..."* *hears everyone laugh at that and hears Abdi complain* *sees Alex look at him and hears him ask: "And you? Do you also refer to yourself as an idiot or only the others?"* *at first is really shocked about such a direct question, but then smiles because he has to think about the fact that he has acted really idiotic toward Matteo and also a little toward Jonas and says* I'm also one! *then hears Carlos: "And what about Alex?"* *shrugs* So far he isn’t – at least since I've known him... *Carlos: "Then be glad that you've only met him now..." and Abdi: "Hey, I thought I was the only one who wasn't an idiot!" and Jonas: "So the only question that remains is whether Abdi or Alex will be the first one to act idiotic in David's presence..." and Alex: "This conversation is idiotic!"* *laughs and nods* A little... *is quite glad when Jonas changes the topic* *would really like to go into the water and nods* Definitely in! *hears Carlos say to Matteo: "Hey, it's totally windless! It won't float away!"* *shakes Matteo a little and gets ready to stand up* *murmurs* Come on... Carlos is right! *then hears Jonas: "Guys, it feels like it's 40 degrees Celsius! I'm going in!"* *sees him put the oar on the raft and watches as he lets himself fall over into the water* *gets up and causes the raft to sway a little more* *but only grins, takes a small step toward the edge of the raft and then also jumps into the water*

Matteo: *laughs at the conversation about idiots* *is a little surprised when he hears Alex' direct question* *but then thinks that he should actually be used to this level of directness from Alex* *waits to see what David answers to object if he has to* *but then grins when he says that he's also one* *then murmurs at Jonas' question* My guess is Abdi... *grumbles slightly when everyone tells him that they can leave the raft by itself* Okay... but if not, then I want it to be noted that this time, I wasn't the idiot... *waits for David to jump into the water and then scoots to the edge* *doesn't jump but instead lets himself slide into the water* Yeah, okay... that's really better than 40 degrees...

David: *grins at Matteo's murmuring and nudges him slightly* *says very quietly* Hey, give Alex a chance – I might need his money, after all... *after resurfacing he looks around for the raft and sees that Matteo is now also in the water* *beams and swims toward him* *nods* Definitely better than 40 degrees! *puts his hand on his neck and pulls him closer to kiss him* *then hears two loud splashes and turns around to see that Abdi and Carlos have also made it into the water* *calls toward the raft* Come on, Alex! It's really a nice refreshment! *watches Alex get up and elegantly dive into the lake head-first* *hears Carlos snort: "Show-off!" and grins* *then hears Jonas: "So, guys, now I want to know! Davenzi claim they are the kings at holding their breaths... now I want proof! Who's in?"*

Matteo: *immediately wraps one arm around David when he swims to him and returns his kiss only too gladly* *but then turns so that he's next to him and watches everyone come into the water* *laughs slightly when Carlos calls Alex a show-off* Well, if you know how to... *sees Carlos throw him a contemptuous look and only laughs* *then hears Jonas' statement and has to laugh* *loudly declares* We are! *but is still surprised when everyone wants to join in and sees how they quickly form a circle* *hears Jonas: "Okay, on the count of three everyone dives under... 1, 2... 3!"* *holds his breath and then submerges* *sees Carlos resurface pretty quickly and thinks that now the smoker's lungs will probably show* *then also sees Abdi resurface and unfortunately has to follow suit shortly after him* *sees Carlos and Abdi laughing when he resurfaces and then sees Jonas come up as well* *hears Jonas say with a grin: "King my ass!"* *shrugs one shoulder* One king is still down there... *then hears Carlos note: "Yeah the ones without smoker's lungs are still down there..."*

David: *laughs at Jonas' challenge and nods at Matteo's words* Of course we're in! *grins and looks at the others to see who wants to participate* *waits for Jonas to count to three, takes a deep breath and submerges together with the others* *at first has his eyes open and at first looks at Matteo, because that's actually their thing and he doesn't care that the others are also participating* *from the corner of his eyes he sees Carlos resurface after a while and closes his eyes when he sees Abdi following* *opens them again when he realizes that he won't be able to hold his breath for much longer and sees that only Alex is still under water with him* *tilts his head slightly and grins a little* *then realizes that he really can't hold it for much longer, but plans to still count to ten before giving up* *sees Alex resurface by the time he counted to 5 and can only manage to count to 7 before he has to give up* *is received by everyone once he has resurfaced, gasps for air and can hear Carlos first: "Dude, that might have been record-breaking! We should have timed it!" and Abdi: "First of all, we should stop smoking!"* *laughs quietly and pushes the wet hair off his forehead* *feels Jonas clap his shoulder: "Brudi, you're our king!"* *shakes his head and says a little breathlessly* Maybe at diving... but you're all better when it comes to swimming – I'm out of practice when it comes to that!

Matteo: *considers if he would be able to kick Alex without getting punched for it* *but then sees Alex already come up and cheers when David follows a moment later* *grins at him widely* *lets the guys celebrate him first and then nudges him a little* *smiles a little wickedly and then says* Rematch! *pulls David closer when he hears Abdi: "Dude, no, I can't do it again... I'll swim for a while."* *hears Jonas laughing: "No, guys, I think we're all out here... they've switched into couple mode."* *doesn't care right now what the others are doing* *is only looking at David* On three... 1, 2, 3... *submerges with him and keeps his eyes open* *looks at him for maybe two seconds before he pulls him closer and kisses him*

David: *grins at Matteo's words, tilts his head a little and murmurs* Okay... *puts his arm around Matteo's waist when he pulls him closer and looks at him* *somehow tunes out the others and barely notices Jonas saying that the others are all out* *is fine with that* *smiles at Matteo's look and they simultaneously take a deep breath before submerging together* *immediately pulls him closer once they are under water, returns his gaze and leans toward him* *closes his eyes when they kiss and tries to move against the buoyancy with one hand and his legs while his other hand is holding Matteo close to him* *once again feels like it's only them and that only they are important and that nothing else matters as long as they have each other and quietly sighs into the kiss* *but realizes that he loses some valuable air because of it and he has to resurface again* *puts his other arm around Matteo as well and pulls him up with him without releasing the kiss* *only briefly gasps for air once they are on the surface again and then searches for his lips once more*

Matteo: *gasps for air at the same time David does and immediately kisses him again* *wraps his arms around him a little tighter* *but then has to let go of him so that he doesn't sink* *but grins at him broadly* I won... *then looks around for the other guys and sees that they are swimming some distance away* Do you think they'll notice if we just disappear... to somewhere where no one is around? *they basically didn't have a minute to themselves today*

David: *grumbles when Matteo lets go of him but then laughs when he hears his words* *nods and says in an amused tone of voice* Yes – you're the best! *pulls him a little closer again while Matteo looks around so that he won’t even think about swimming away from him* *but then hears his question, smiles pretty widely and also looks around* *it's quite the distance to the shore – they probably wouldn't be able to make it unnoticed – but once they’d reach the shore it would be quite the distance from the jetty and not really visible from the lake* *grins slightly* The question is whether it bothers us if they notice... I guess we won't make it to the shore unseen... *laughs quietly* Or do you have a good excuse? That we have to pee and don't want to pollute the lake or something like that?!

Matteo: *looks around as well and sees that it's pretty far to the shore no matter what direction* *grumbles a little* *then shrugs one shoulder* It wouldn't really bother me... *then laughs* The truth? *pulls him with him toward the closest shore* If someone asks, we'll just tell them that we want to have sex without being interrupted... let's see if it works...

David: *grins when Matteo says that it wouldn't bother him and also shrugs one shoulder* Me neither. With me, everyone always thinks that I'm a bad influence, anyways... *laughs* Okay... *let's Matteo pull him with him for a while, but then swims toward the shore by himself – after all, he has to practice some more to defeat Carlos at the end of their holiday* *after only a few strokes he hears Abdi: "Hey Brudis! Where are you going?"* *turns around and sees that Abdi is about to follow them* *looks at Matteo* Well, then, give them the truth... *laughs quietly and shakes his head* I'm not yelling that across the entire lake...

Matteo: *swims next to David toward the shore* *thinks that they really might make it unnoticed when he hears Abdi* *laughs slightly and tells David* What? Do you think I wouldn't do it? *stops and turns around so that he can see Abdi* *but then only yells back* We're swimming to the shore! *hears Abdi: "Hang on, I'll come with you!"* *shakes his head with a laugh and then really yells* Better not, we want to have sex! *hears Jonas and Carlos burst out laughing and sees Abdi look a little befuddled* *sees him stop and waves to him before turning around again* *grins at David* Okay, let's keep moving... *continues to swim*

David: *shrugs in amusement at Matteo's question but then laughs* I wouldn't put it past you... *blushes slightly when Matte really yells over the entire lake that they want to have sex and Carlos and Jonas burst out laughing* *sees Matteo grin and can't help but grin as well* You're really impossible, Florenzi! *but then also continues to swim toward the shore* *is really exhausted when they finally reach it, because it had really been quite the distance, but still trudges up the bank and takes a look around* *notices that they've really picked a good spot because behind the bank he can see a small meadow at a clearing surrounded by trees and shrubbery* *grins slightly at Matteo and jokingly says* Okay, you'll quickly go to the tent to get the condoms and I'll wait here... *plops down on the grass and looks up at Matteo*

Matteo: *laughs and would shrug one shoulder if he weren't swimming right now* Honesty is one of my biggest strengths! *is super exhausted when they finally reach the shore and trudges after David* *then hears David's words and groans loudly* Fuck, nooo! *sees that David has already laid down and shakes his head* No way, you're the one that's Mr. advanced PE! *lays down on his back next to him with his limbs splayed out* You go get them!

David: *laughs quietly when Matteo groans loudly and then also realizes that they don't have anything with them and looks over at him when he lies down next to him* *holds his hand out to him and entwines their fingers* *is too exhausted from swimming to scoot closer* *shakes his head* Nah... when it's 35 degrees or more I deny having been in advanced PE... *remains lying there in silence with Matteo for a while to get some strength back* *eventually sighs, jolts up, scoots over to Matteo and straddles him* *leans down to him, pushes a strand of hair off his forehead and grins* Okay, ready to have some fun even without condoms or did the swimming exhaust you so much that you have to take a nap first? *tenderly touches the skin under Matteo's binder with his fingers*

Matteo: *immediately grabs his hand as well and lets his thumb run over David's palm* Yes, okay, I'll accept that... *then they are both quiet for a while and he thinks that this is also quite nice* *just the two of them here* *then looks up in surprise when David jolts up* *wonders if he wants to go to the tent, after all, and even wants to stop him* *then grins when he straddles him and looks up at him* *tilts his head at his question and grins* *shakes his head a little reproachfully and reaches a hand out to pull him down by his neck* Let me think about it really hard... *then pulls him into a kiss*

David: *grins slightly when Matteo pulls him down and immediately returns the kiss* *deepens it after a while and then murmurs against Matteo's lips* Feels like you've decided against a nap... *then kisses him again and presses closer to him*

*spends a large part of the afternoon with Matteo at the clearing "having fun" and enjoys the quiet and being close to him* *when they eventually decide to join the others again they have to realize that the raft and the others have already left the lake* *so they make their way back to the tent on foot, along the shore and through the heat so that they can finally take off their already dry swim binders, and once they have arrived at the tent they realize that it's already a little after 5 and that the sky is already a little overcast* *glances up and smiles slightly* A thunderstorm would be nice today...

(next play)

#Druck #og druck #matteo florenzi #david schreibner #davenzi #davenzi plays

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youarejesting · 4 years

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BTS365 Prompts.Week 22

[Full Masterlist] [Prompt Masterlist]

Please tag me in your work if you use my prompts. I want to see your work. Ever your Jester.

Tell me your birthday and I will tag you on your special day!

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May 28th - June 3rd

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Kim Seokjin - Hamburger

Covert Careers was the TV show taking over Korea. It was where they took celebrities and Idol’s from their daily lives and forced them to work everyday jobs. Kim Seokjin was nominated by Bang PD to go on the show, so he was put through hair and makeup to look like a Mall Janitor. You were working at the nearby American style burger joint in the Mall Cafeteria; ‘Burgundy.’ There was a word they were filming an ad for the shopping centre. You didn’t care about that; instead, you were more worried about the new janitor. You knew the old janitor had left after harassment from some of the restaurants, including your restaurant manager.

So when you saw the new young man with his shaggy hair and glasses, he looked lost being yelled at by the taco bell restaurant manager. You walked over, calling your colleague to take the counter. Striding across the floor and stepping between the two men and facing the taco bell manager with your hands on your hips.

“It’s his first day, do you want this young man to quit and do your own cleaning duty or let the poor guy learn from his mistakes and grow to be a great janitor.”

“You’re just as uneducated as the janitor working at that burger joint.”

“You manage a Taco bell. You are so much better than us, aren’t you? I am sorry I didn’t realize I had to bow.”

“Whatever, take your Criminal boyfriend here and teach him to clean properly. Or he won’t have a job by the end of the day,” He growled, noticing the camera’s on him. You led the young man away and sighed, beginning to show him what to do and after taking care of him all day, until one in the afternoon. You took him by the hand, and you bought him a dress shirt and pants and some shoes.

“You don’t have to,” He said, his ears going red. “Look I want to, every man deserves some respectable work clothes and it will make you seem less of a pushover” He allowed you to buy them for him. You asked him if he would cut his hair, and he refused and so you took to it with a comb and looked at him.

"You are really handsome" You smiled, led him back to the cafeteria, and gave him a meal from your restaurant. He ate heartily, and you giggled "Can we get married, you eat so well"

His cheeks lit up bright red, and he choked on some fries and tried to wash it down with the lemonade, and you grinned.

Min Yoongi - Pillow

Yoongi had a special pillow that no matter where he was in the world or whatever time of day when his head lay upon it, he fell into a deep sleep. He felt content and safe whenever he felt the familiar softness under his head. Your scent embedded into the fabric helped to relax him no matter the location.

Jung Hoseok - Bucket

Hoseok was at the pier, he had been visiting the beach as a punishment from a run BTS episode, and he would fulfill it. As he stood on the pier, the wind picked up, bringing with it the salty sea air that seemed to cut his skin as it blew past. He was looking particularly stylish with a street style of baggy clothes, heavy jacket, glasses, and a Bucket hat. He was enjoying the sunset alone, asking the film crew to take a picture of him. When a particularly strong breeze snatched up his bucket hat and blew it away, depositing it into the ocean, he ran to the edge of the pier looking over with a shout.

“I got it, friend. If you could watch my bag,” You shouted and lifted your dress and springing over the rail and diving into the water, snatching up the hat and swimming back into the shore. You walked the hat back to its rightful owner and smiled, picking up your bag and dress and leaving without looking back, and Hoseok was in awe at how cool you were.

Kim Namjoon - Macaroon

The patisserie down the road from Namjoon’s house was holding a few classes for people to learn how to make certain delicious pastries and sweets. Namjoon had no skills in cooking what so ever, but you were just so nice, and he got so flustered. So when he complimented your macaroons; You asked him if he wanted to learn how to make them, he said yes without thinking things through.

Behind the shop was a classroom where you held the workshops, and tonight there were six people present, including Namjoon and yourself. Halfway through the recipe, he realized his macaroon shells were not turning out how they should. He went to get them from the oven when the oven mitt got stuck to the oven coil, and Namjoon ripped his hand from the burning mitt seconds before it set alight.

Park Jimin - Nice

Every celebrity ever knew that reading the comments was a bad idea. Still,Jimin was feeling curious and opened a review of their latest music video. He began reading an extensive comment.

“Namjoon is the Leader, he is smart and a lyrical genius. Yoongi is so talented with expressing his emotions while rapping and is the bad ass one. Hoseok is the best dancer hands down and has such a great energetic personality.” Jimin smiled. This review was so nice and wholesome he kept reading hearing about how well they thought everyone was doing. He walked out to the living room so he could read it too you, proud of all the work that was put into the new music video. You listened to him read about Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok before he moved on.

“Taehyung is the handsome and unique quirky one. He has an amazing soulful voice. Seokjin is so funny and Handsome he might not be the best singer, but he is improving so much. Jungkook is the golden maknae for a reason and is perfect at everything. And then there is Jimin, who is Nice?”

Heart sinking Jimin closed the laptop, and you frowned. You were ready to tell him just how amazing he was and the word ‘Nice’ wouldn’t cut it.

Kim Taehyung - Early

Taehyung was told by his friends they were meeting at the nightclub at five past five. Honestly he thought it was an odd time but didn’t question it. That is until he showed up and realized that the club wasn’t open. He called his friend who said that it was a typo and he meant five past ten. Taehyung didn’t know exactly what he was supposed to do for four hours and fifty-five minutes, but as he wandered away from the front of the club he saw that right next door was a twenty-four-hour gym he looked in and saw you walking on the treadmill, at first he thought you were out of breath and red, wiping sweat from your face. But when he watched just a fraction longer, he realized you were sobbing.

Jeon Jungkook - Repeat

It wasn’t his fault. If anyone was to blame it was Namjoon, for dropping his iPhone into a puddle of water on their walk through the park. He had been trying to show his hyung a song he had made.

So standing over a bowl of rice, he hoped it would get the moisture from the electronic device. He didn’t want a new one just yet. It was the moment of truth; he had left his phone overnight, and when he turned it on surprisingly, it did, and there was nothing wrong. He made a few texts and calls to experiment. It was too perfect. Something had to be wrong, and yet nothing seemed to be wrong.

The director called for a half an hour break on set, and Jungkook pulled out his phone; it was 11:12, and he tried to play a song. He noticed the song he played yesterday for Namjoon was on the screen, and it said it was playing. But he couldn’t hear it; was his speaker broken? No, it couldn’t be he had made calls that morning, and they were working perfectly. He pressed the pause button thinking perhaps it was a glitch.

He pressed pause and again no sound; he pressed play, and the song didn’t play, but the noise around him became noticeable.

He tried again pressing pause, and his ears felt almost blocked, looking up he was going to ask Yoongi if he knew anything about it. He was always pretty tech savvy, considering his profession. He got a few steps and froze, noticing that everyone around him had frozen.

He waited ten minutes and went to check the time. They were really committed to the prank, but when he looked at the time it was 11:15, how had only three minutes passed Jungkook began tapping his screen wondering if it froze too and accidentally hit the play button and they all began moving again.

Experimentally, he pressed pause, and they all stopped. He raised an eyebrow and hit rewind. Everyone moved backward awkwardly and he pressed play. “Take a half an hour break,” The director called again.

He pressed the pause button and went for a walk. He walked down the street, wanting the freedom to just walk around. It was as he was walking through the streets that he saw movement out the corner of his eye, and there you were slowly backing away from the frozen figures shaking.

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fire2forge · 3 years

Text

Looking back...

March 15th 2020. My ship said goodbye to to our last guests. We pulled into Miami, let everyone off and left to go drift out with all the other cruise ships. At the time we all thought that it would truly be a 30 day pause in operations, we know now how naïve that was.

I’ll admit for awhile it was nice. Crew had the run of the ship, bars were open earlier, we had very little work to do, late nights out having fun, all kinds of activities. We were all so confident that covid hadn’t made it to our ship, that we were all safe, and this was just gonna be a 30 day vacation.

Cut to the 21st:

We come to find out later that this unannounced drill was our super-spreader event. Because no-one knew it was a drill, everyone that was in isolation came out (we thought the ship was on fire)...by the time it was announced it was a drill and those confined should not leave it was to late...

Cut to the 24th:

I go back to medical later in the day, and after testing negative for the flu, am given a mask and told I was not allowed to leave my cabin (I luckily did not have a room mate), unless it was to come back for daily temp checks.

I find out later on that unknown to most of us we had a lot of people that had quietly been put into isolation (in a crew of 2000+, it’s easy to not notice). This was also the day of our first major repatriation effort 700 crew (mainly cruise division) where slated to fly...only a few did.

Cut to the 28th:

The first PCR tests are done onboard, sometime in the afternoon the Captain comes on and says we have one positive case. A few hours later its 14 confirmed cases, and everyone is told to return to their cabins until further notice (We never had an official announcement given after the first 14, but it was well over 100 cases by the end). The ship has just entered lock down.

On the 29th All crew got moved into guest rooms, this was both because of an order from the CDC, and so that the many smoker’s would be able to smoke on the balconies. We had different zones to divide everyone up:

Red Zone for confirmed cases, Orange for suspected/been in contact with, and the rest for supposedly healthy. It’s here that I note that even though I had already been in isolation for days, had a constant cough, and had had a fever (that by then had broken) I was never tested, nor was I put into orange zone.

At this point no one can leave cabins (excluding those working crew) and the company has started to realize that they need to get everyone back home as soon as possible. Repatriation efforts start to really kick into gear.

We stayed in what would eventually be labeled Phase 1 for 29 days. We entered Phase 2 April 26th.

PHASE 1

During the initial phase, all crew got asked if they wanted to stay onboard (unpaid), basically for those who didn’t want to or couldn’t go home for any reason. This would become Group 3. I was part of this group, for many reasons I did not want to go home, so the free room and board was perfect for me, and many of my friends. This is the sole reason I was onboard for so long, not because of anything the company did.

Those that did want to go home became group 2, many of them would end up waiting months before their country opened up and flights could be made, I remember how at the end of March beginning of April, we would constantly here from the Capt that some nationality was going to fly that day, only for him to come back and say that the got denied at some point in the process and would be coming back onboard.

Those few that were still getting paid, still had a job because someone had to run the ship became known as Group 1.

I don’t really remember that much from this time, the days really started to blend and the isolation was not helping anything. While people in the US where throwing fits over “Shelter in Place” orders, I was not allowed to leave a room that was roughly 20′x10′. They complained about not being able to see friends, I only saw 1 person a day (one of my managers twice a day for temp checks, approx. 5 second visits each). They complained that stores had limited hours, I had no store, I had limited choice in food, I had no ability to get snacks, it was 3 meals a day that’s it, you want some chips at 3pm to bad dinner won’t come till 6pm. (eventually they sorted out a system so we could by snacks, beer, cigs, and bathroom supplies). To top this all off we had no access to laundry services till round April 5th, I was put in isolation before everyone else, I had not done my laundry for a week before hand....I was struggling.

Looking through some old notes, apparently at one point I had made a schedule, Breakfast 9-10...Read till 11....Listen to the crew radio show 11-1...Lunch 12-1...Nap...Dinner 5-6...Sleep. Very stimulating days we had.

A month of solitude was not easy, especially when you keep hearing about crew members being denied entry into their own countries, the media blaming the industry as a whole for covid reached the US, constantly thinking our quarantine was gonna end only for it to be extended, and not seeing or really speaking to anyone the entire time. But a light at the end of the tunnel...Phase 2

PHASE 2

April 26th we got let out....kinda...

Split down the Middle...people on Portside got let out for 3 hours, then People on Starboard got let out for 3 hours (this excluded anyone in red or orange zone). After our “yard time” we went back to our cabins. Once a week you could go down and purchase up to 4 items from the slop chest (the crew shop). Everyone was wearing masks, the only time we weren’t is if we were smoking, one person per ashtray spaced about 8ft apart.

At some point during this time the Captain made a comment on how in hindsight we should of went straight into lockdown on March 15th, that we should of done 2 weeks then instead of over a month now.

We still had 2 temp checks a day (done door to door), and all meals were still delivered. There is a reason we joked about it being yard time, because it really was. You got to get some fresh air and maybe see a few friends that was it....Luckily it didn’t last long we entered phase 3 on May 12th.

But before that a note. By this time the fleet had started using our own ships to transport crew home, aka one ship sailed a bunch of people over to India. Along with that some people were getting lucky enough to have flights. So my ship was constantly losing people, either because they got a flight home or where being moved onto another ship. If I remember correctly our largest sign off was ~500 Filipinos, it was a hectic time in crew movement, by the time we got into Phase 3 we only had a few hundred people on board if memory serves right.

PHASE 3

We could finally be outside for as long as we wanted, no more restricted movement. Meals where in the large guest buffet area (seating 1 or 2 people a table only, all distanced), temp checks where done at division based locations, for me that was the theatre (still two a day)....that’s basically the only change.

We still had to wear masks at all times, we were still supposed to keep distance, no groups, no going into each others cabins, no fun nights out...in theory.

The first few days in Phase 3 we ended up signing off almost everyone that was in Group 2, by May 20th we were at minimum manning +16 Group 3 (in total about 100 people). It was then that we went back to eating in the crew mess and the restrictions where unofficially forgotten about.

When I say this you must keep in mind that at this point it had been almost 3 months since any of us had touched land, and a solid month and a half since we had a positive case. Much like New Zealand and Australia now, we no longer had to worry about covid. We still wore masks around the ship (thanks to the CDC), but unless Chief Safety caught you no one was gonna look twice at a large group eating at one table, or a group staying up late drinking and playing cards (guilty of that)...By the end of May it was almost like we had regained some normalicy...so of course it couldn’t last...

MOVING SHIP

May 21st, Group 3 got a notice that we would be transferred to another ship in the fleet to consolidate all of us together. They said it would be a few weeks before this transfer...We finally got moved on June 22nd.

As of today March 16th 2021 a full year after we stopped sailing, the last remaining Group 2 and Group 3 people from my company have gotten home, those that were in Group 2 came from Vietnam, and Trinidad and Trabago it took a year to finally get them home...let that sink in.

...

And here is where i’ll end this tale, if anyone is interested in knowing about life on the 2nd and 3rd ship I got transferred to before going home in December, let me know i’ll type something up.

#cruise crew #Cruise Ship #covid #crew #long post #there is so much i didn't put down #all the little things #all the rules #all the shit the cdc did to us and still is doing #a lot of nuance #is lost here as i tried to make it not a super long post #as well as keep it vague what company i work with #and don't get the wrong idea here i will be the 1st one back on a ship #i just felt like doing a retrospective on how my covid experiance differed from others #maybe its because my friends from the ship just got home and seeing them reacting to just everything that's changed ....#well it got me thinking

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coraxaviary · 4 years

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Re: Sister-in-Arms Chapter 2

This is a long author’s note that belongs with the early chapters of Sister-in-Arms. Feel free to ignore if you’re not reading/following my fic. Masterlist is here.

1. Basic Training

I am aware I’m probably skipping a lot of steps at this point. Men were supposed to complete Basic before moving onto elite training, and realistically I think June would have had to pass the Basic exam to join the others before this point. But let’s be realistic here: women would not have gone to West Point until, what was it? Like 1948? Women in the US weren't even allowed on the front lines until a couple of years ago, in the 21st century.

There’s a lot of historical inconsistency in this fic, and while I do intend to try and carve out an accurate storyline for June, there are a lot of things I don’t know. I’m trying my best to research, but the whole idea of a female WWII paratrooper is preposterous in itself. So no, June doesn’t complete Basic beforehand. The training is going to be integrated in the PT training she does with the other men, and in a sense, it’s sink-or-swim. She’ll have to go through the Basic test later after a few weeks of training, which is arguably worse because she never got the comparatively cushy Basic treatment (which was prep for the exam) like some of the men. She’ll have to shape up big-time.

2. History

I am bungling history badly, if I do say so myself. I am making up characters (e.g. Coates, Bea, and more to come), embellishing events, and doing my best with aerial maps of Toccoa, but the layout may be drastically different than what I describe. While I do strongly believe in the preservation of the real veterans’ stories, and I also honor the men who sacrificed much during the war and after, this fanfiction is specifically a work derivative of the HBO series. This means the inconsistencies and flaws of the show may appear in my writing.

Major fact-corrections aside (Blithe not actually dying in 1941, Points taking place on May 1, not April 11, etc.), I acknowledge the historical inaccuracies, but I am writing this fic based on information provided from the show and from Ambrose’s (admittedly flawed) work. Some details of my research may be wrong, no matter how many hours I dedicate.

And some facts I may choose to ignore in favor of the story.

Am I asserting that the real Joseph Liebgott was Jewish? No. Yet he may be so in my story, because the HBO series paints him as genuinely Jewish. However, I am not putting name tags on training uniforms because no one ever actually did. This is picking and choosing, I am aware, but I am also trying to do my best to blend reality and the show in the service of a good plot and a quality fanfic.

Just some clarification.

#not writing #sister-in-arms

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carryonsimoncarryonbaz · 4 years

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Carry On Countdown Day 11: Angst

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21664300

Above is the lovely artwork created by the talented @fight-surrender for my Carry On Countdown fic for today! It was originally going to be for the magical creatures prompt (before it morphed into a Carry On prequel with a dash of parental figures before taking a deep dive into angst)!

Summary: Young Baz deals with his concerns and anxieties about his eventual transition to full vampire state. There is support for him, from unexpected sources, but it doesn't make the realizations and realities all that much easier to face. But sometimes it's good to know you aren't completely alone. (Warnings for mentions of blood, feeding, and the family dog from Wayward Son) Title from the David Bowie song.

Scary Monsters

Four Years Ago

Baz

I don’t like the lodge much. We aren’t here often so it doesn’t feel like home.

My room is smaller here. It doesn’t have gargoyles so I suppose that’s something, but I miss my books. I miss the library. The one here isn’t as grand. The books are older, dustier, darker. Ones Father would rather not have on display.

They don’t hold much appeal for a ten-year-old, even though I read far above my age level.

But Father is intent on letting Daphne become familiar with each of our estates this summer so we’ve been traveling from one to the other since June. They started in the south of France. Daphne offered to have me go with them, but Fiona wouldn’t hear of it.

“For Crowley’s sake, who takes a child along on their honeymoon?” Fiona had snorted. “You’d think Malcolm would come up with something a little more exciting than Bordeaux for you, Daphne, but then again it is Malcolm so I suppose you’re lucky he isn’t taking you to the estate in Galloway.”

She’d ignored Father’s indignant huff. “You’ll have all the time in the world with Baz. This is just two weeks, for Christ’s sake.” Fiona swears like a Normal when she’s worked up. “Take a few days alone with Malcolm. See if you can get that stick-in-the-mud to lighten up a little.” Daphne had made some protestation but Fiona had cut her off. “Baz will be fine with me.”

That’s how I managed to spend two weeks in London at Fiona’s new flat.

It was brilliant. We hit all the typical tourist stops--The Tower, The London Eye, Westminster, the markets at Covent Garden, but she also took me to the cinema to see Ratatouille and The Globe to see A Comedy of Errors.

It was the best part of my summer.

We ended up going to Galloway after all, once Father and Daphne returned from France. It was cold and rainy the entire time. And now we’re near Oxford, at the lodge. We’ve got one more week here and then I finally get to go home.

To my room. Gargoyles and all. Back to my books, my violin. Back to tennis lessons at the Club. Back home. Where everything is familiar.

Except for Daphne. She’ll be new there.

But I like Daphne. Truly, I do. She’s kind and she doesn’t push. I think she’ll be good for Father. I think she already has been. It’s nice to see him smile more.

But that leaves me frightfully bored at the moment. Vera went to the market and Father and Daphne have been sorting books for hours.

Fiona’s in London.

There aren’t any neighbours for miles.

I finished reading all the books I brought with me and I don’t fancy looking for more in the library. Father will probably set me to work alphabetizing the ones he’s sorted.

I’d rather not.

I mope around my room for a bit longer and then trudge downstairs to find something to eat. Vera made a trifle yesterday and I’m sure there’s some still in the refrigerator. Daphne finds me poking about in the kitchen and serves me up a healthy portion of trifle without me even having to ask.

“What are you up to today, Basil? Another book? Or a tramp out in the garden?”

“I finished the books I brought with me.”

“Ah. That’s a bit troublesome.” She shakes her head and gives me a smile. “Not much for you in the library here, that’s for certain.” She tilts her head. “Unless you’d care to tackle The Iliad in the original Greek? There are one or two copies at least, if you’d like one. Malcolm says you’ve got a good grasp of it already.”

I do. But probably not enough to puzzle out Homer. Not yet. As much as I love languages I don’t feel like plodding through Greek today. I don’t feel like doing much of anything. I’m restless but blank on inspiration.

I wish I’d thought to bring my violin.

I shake my head and scoop up the last bit of trifle.

“Maybe take a turn in the garden?” Daphne suggests. “It’s a nice enough day, not too bright or hot.”

She knows, of course. It’s something Father told her when things had become serious between them. Before he had asked her to marry him.

I think her response to his revelation made his decision.

She’s never said anything to me about it. Father told me he had spoken to her, assured me she is most concerned about how she can help, when the time comes.

When the time comes.

I don’t think any of us know when that’s going to be. Father rarely speaks of it. Fiona never mentions it. I’ve no idea what to expect, other than what I’ve read in the library at home. Books I’ve pulled down from the high shelves, the dark corners of the library. Books full of hearsay and folk tales, lurid second hand accounts and likely more fiction than fact.

None of which helps.

I’ll be heading to Watford once I turn eleven. A place where no one will know about me and where I won’t have anyone to walk me through whatever might happen.

I can hope that it occurs when I’m home but there’s no guarantee.

I take Daphne’s suggestion and go out to the garden but there’s nothing to do there either. I walk by the roses. I go to the back where the herb garden is. The scents all mingle here--mint, basil, coriander, sage. I can smell them all, even if I don’t pick the leaves and crush them between my fingers.

I wonder about that. I wonder if it means something. If the transition is coming. It’s in the books. The books about vampires. It’s one of the few things that seems to be consistently reported--the heightened senses.

Vision, hearing, smell.

It’s mentioned in most of the accounts--along with the blood lust, the pale skin, the ferocious strength (the bit about garlic is rot) (pesto is full of garlic and I’ve never had a problem).

I can’t say I’ve experienced anything like blood lust. Not that I’d know what that is, really. I like a good steak, preferably rare, but I’m not raiding the refrigerator for raw cuts of meat or developing a craving for blood pudding (I hate it actually).

I am pale. It seems like my skin fades a bit more each year.

In the photos with Mother I look . . . well, I look like her, I suppose.

I don’t anymore.

I’m not particularly stronger than other children my age, not that I can tell. I have a solid serve but I’ve been getting tennis lessons since I was six. I should hope I’m decent at it by now. It would be embarrassing for the Club instructor if I wasn’t. I beat Dev almost every time we play but it’s more that I pay attention than due to the quality of my game.

I’m better at football. I’ve got a vicious kick--not my words--it’s what my coach said to Father at the end of last season. It’s powerful and I’m fairly accurate but it’s not as if I can hurt someone with the way I drill a ball.

I’d never want to do that. I wouldn’t be able to play anymore. I love football. I’d miss it far too much. I don’t want to think about it. That this stupid condition will keep changing me and make me lose something else I love.

I’ve already lost the most important person in my life because of it.

How much more will get taken away?

I kick a rock off the path in frustration and wish I could kick something else.

I don’t want to be thinking about this but I can’t help it. There are so many questions but no one wants to talk about it. I think Father would rather pretend it never happened.

We talk about Mother but never about that. Never about me. Even Fiona avoids the subject.

I can’t remember much about that day. But what I do remember plays over and over in my head. It keeps me up at night, sometimes. The images flashing before my eyes.

I dream of it. I see Mother with the blue flames in her hands, the set of her jaw, the despair in her eyes when she saw the vampire snatch me up and sink his teeth in me.

The flames that followed.

The nightmares come. Sometimes weeks apart, other times two or three times in a week.

Father usually sits with me after. He strokes my hair and talks about everything but the reason for the nightmares. I know he’s trying. I don’t think he knows what else to do.

Fiona used to come, when she still lived with us. She was always up late and she’d hear me crying out in my sleep. She’d pop her head in and if Father wasn’t there yet she’d sit on the bed with me and tell me stories of her time at Watford. The pranks she and her friends would dream up and how Mother was at her wits end half the time trying to keep them all in line.

And then she’d sing. Not the traditional lullabies, not Fiona. That’s not her style. Her style is mainly 80’s alt rock but that isn't what she would sing to me.

She says my mother always loved the Beatles. So that’s what Fiona would sing.

She still does. She did when I stayed with her a few weeks ago, when the dreams came. There’s something particularly soothing about “I’m Only Sleeping.” I start humming it as I walk further down the path.

I wander around the side of the lodge, to the shed that’s there. It’s probably locked. When I jiggle the handle I don’t expect it to do anything, but to my surprise the door opens. I peer inside and I can see the garden equipment in the dim light.

But I can also see a football, dusty and dirt stained, tucked between the rakes and shovels. It must be one I left behind last time we were here. I dig it out and wipe it off.

Kicking a ball is better than thinking.

I could do with some practice. I dribble it down the lawn then back and forth between the shrubs. There’s a short break in the hedge and I shoot the ball there, well chuffed when I get it between the greenery. It’s a much smaller space than the goal we use for games.

I fetch the ball and dribble it again, shooting towards the hedge over and over, making more of the shots than not. This is good. I can feel the sweat running down my back but I don’t care. This is the most fun I’ve had since we’ve come to Oxford.

My next kick sends the ball over the hedge and into the woods. I chase after it as it rolls between the trees. It’s when I bend to pick it up that I catch a flash of red in the underbrush. I take a step closer but there’s nothing there.

I see it again a few moments later, when my ball has tumbled under the trees once more. Just a glimpse of red, glittering in the weak sunlight.

I wonder if it’s a snake. Do they have snakes in Oxford?

I don’t really want to find out.

But I am curious. I pick up a stick and gingerly poke at the leaves. Nothing comes out but I see a glimmer as I move the stick around. I push the leaves away and that’s when I see the broken pieces of shell scattered in the underbrush. The fragments are a shimmery rose color.

I’ve never seen anything like this. It must be a bird but what kind? I know I shouldn’t but I can’t help but pick up one of the pieces.

It has a thicker shell than the eggs Vera uses for cooking. Heavier. Warm. It glitters in my hand.

I put it in my pocket.

I wonder if there are any books about birds in the library.

Four years later

Baz

It’s been a few years since we’ve summered at the lodge. The arrival of my little sister kept us in Hampshire initially and the logistics of traveling with her kept us there last year as well.

Mordelia can be a bit of a handful under normal circumstances, but she’s not the best with travel. Her terrible twos have continued unabated into age three.

But Daphne wanted to get away for a bit this summer, so here we are.

She isn’t so fond of the Galloway estate, and now that she’s expecting again Father indulges her every whim. And this is where Daphne wanted to be, for a change of scenery she said. I can’t see that Oxford is all that different from home but I wasn’t about to argue the point with her when she’s expecting twins. She should get to do as she likes, I’m thinking.

It’s fine. I don’t mind so much. I far prefer being in Hampshire but I suppose I can tolerate a few more weeks here.

The library has an eclectic collection, that’s for certain. I’m surprised the Mage hasn’t made one of his surprise visits. Perhaps he doesn’t know about it. That may very well be why Father keeps some of the books here.

Not that I’ve found any books that are particularly helpful. For my condition, that is. We’ve been here for a week and I’ve looked through the ones that looked promising. Not much more detail than the ones back home.

I’ve learned about how to destroy someone like me.

But not about how to exist as someone like me.

It seems I am on my own as far as figuring things out.

Father and Daphne didn’t even say anything about . . . well, I don’t want to think about that. It’s beyond shame.

It’s revulsion.

The nights have been terrible since then. The dreams more vivid. The nightmares more frequent.

The thirst started a little over a month ago and I didn’t realize what it was at first. I was exhausted, worn out but hungry, so very hungry. Nothing satisfied me. Nothing filled the gnawing void in me.

I ate constantly. Vera laughed as she made me sandwiches and served heaping portions on my plate. “You’re a growing boy, Basilton. Teenage boys will eat you out of house and home. I’ll have to adjust the list for market days.”

I’d tried to laugh too but the thundering beat of her heart was drowning out almost everything by then.

That was new too. Hearing the heartbeats of those around me, sensing the quickening of a pulse, the steady thump of blood coursing through arteries. I tried to drown it out--with music, with my violin, with running. Repeating Latin declensions in my head.

None of that has worked very well.

I tried to satisfy the thirst. First with blood pudding (I still don’t like it). Then I made sure to ask Vera to keep the roast beef rare for me.

It wasn’t enough.

I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Couldn’t stop hearing the thrum of pulsing blood all around me.

And then . . . then . . . I lost control the day Father and Daphne went to London for her appointment.

I hadn’t meant to do it. I’d spent the entire morning desperately chasing rabbits and squirrels to no avail. I hadn’t managed to do more than scrape my leg up and get grass stains on my jeans.

Vera was away and no matter how much food she’d left for me, it didn’t make a difference.

I felt so empty.

Painfully empty. A desperate abyss of hunger.

Until after. When the blood was sloshing in my belly and for the first time in weeks I felt the thirst subside. And the shame and regret took over.

No one mentioned it. Not Father, not Daphne. Not Vera, although I think Father cast something to make her forget.

Not me.

The only one who said anything was Mordelia. And it broke my heart every time she asked.

Father must have spoken to her finally, told her he’d run off, made some excuse. I don’t know. I couldn’t bring myself to ask. But she stopped, finally stopped asking.

My craving didn’t stop. If anything it got worse, once I’d tasted blood. I couldn’t risk getting that desperate again. I had to find a way to deal with it.

I’ve figured out how to catch the squirrels. The rabbits still give me fits. But I’m faster now. I’m stealthier. I caught one here two days ago and didn’t even stain my shirtfront that time, just my sleeves. That’s progress, I suppose.

It disgusts me, if I’m going to be honest. Every part of it. The hunt, the chase, the feel of the fur between my hands as I snap the neck (I can’t drink when it’s alive) (I can never do that again). The way my fangs drop and then latch on. Even the first taste turns my stomach. But then . . . then the warmth of it fills me, the hunger recedes and I almost feel like myself again.

Until I have to dispose of the drained corpse.

That’s when the horror comes once more. At what I’ve done. At what I am. That this is my life, from now on. I scrub my hands and brush my teeth over and over, but it doesn’t wipe away the memory.

All I can do is promise myself that I will be as humane as possible when I do it (as if that isn’t a colossal joke) (there’s nothing humane about any of this).

But I can try. I can remember to respect the life I take. To be as quick and painless as possible. To never take more than enough to get by. To be judicious as to what and where and how.

I need to stop thinking.

I need to stop thinking about this.

I’ve read all the novels I’ve brought with me from Hampshire and I’m done searching for any answers about myself in the arcane books here. I just can’t do it anymore. I’ve found nothing useful and all it’s managed to do is make me even more frustrated and depressed.

I scan the library shelves for lighter reading. Something to distract me, if that’s even possible.

I run across a leather-bound edition of The Iliad and settle into one of the armchairs to read. I know the Minotaur doesn’t have us translate Homer from the original verse until seventh year, but I’m fluent enough in Greek already and I enjoy a challenge.

It’s hours later when Daphne finds me and I’ll not deny the fact that I was asleep with the book resting on my chest.

She sweeps the hair back from my forehead and smiles down at me. “Achilles not providing enough excitement for you?”

I close the book and sit up. “No, it’s just a bit more challenging in the original Greek, I suppose.”

Her hand comes to rest on my shoulder and her eyes soften. “Are you getting enough sleep, Basil?”

I nod. I’m not but I don’t need to burden Daphne with that. She’s got enough going on, with Mordelia and this pregnancy. She’s pale, almost as pale as I am, and even though she’s not that far along she’s still thinner than she should be, I think.

Her heartbeat’s steady though, as are the faint tandem beats that echo from her belly. I’d have said something to Father if they hadn’t been, even if it meant admitting how I knew. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to Daphne. She means too much to me, to Father, to this family.

I’ve not answered her question and her gaze has gone from questioning to concerned. I pat her hand. “Well, enough. You know it always takes me a bit to adjust to a new place."

Which is bollocks but better than admitting the truth about the nightmares.

She grips my shoulder tightly. “You’d tell me if you weren’t?”

“I’d tell you,” I lie.

“Alright, then.” She drops her hand and her lips curve into a smile. “Are you hungry? Shall we see if there’s any pudding left from dinner last night?”

“I wouldn't say no to that.” I smile back up at her. “You’re sure Mordy didn’t finish it off already?”

“Mordelia’s taking a nap so this may be our chance.”

Daphne has as much of a sweet tooth as I do. There’s a bit of berry crumble left and the two of us polish it off bite by bite.

“You’ll spoil your dinner, you will,” Vera grumbles, as she takes the empty baking dish from us and shakes her head.

Daphne laughs. “I don’t think anything will spoil Baz’s appetite for one of your roasts, Vera, and I’m eating for three at this point so poor Malcolm will be lucky if we leave him a morsel."

She’s right. The four of us polish off Vera’s generous portions at dinner that evening, even Mordelia who is usually frightfully picky about what she eats.

It’s still not enough. It’s been two days since the rabbit and I can feel the thirst gnawing at me again.

I excuse myself after dinner, on the pretense of doing some drills at the back of the garden. I do, dragging out the football and aiming some kicks at the space between the hedges. But it’s all just cover for the hunting I need to quell this thirst.

I chase the ball into the trees and let my eyes and ears take in the sounds around me. A squirrel should do, although a rabbit would be better.

I’m not sure I can handle anything larger. Not yet, which is as depressing a thought as it sounds. I need to get better at this but the reality of how I need to go about that is dispiriting to say the least.

I can hear the squirrels chittering and birds chirping. I stalk one of the squirrels but it shoots up into the branches and I’m not about to go climbing after it. I have my limits.

I go in a bit deeper and crouch down by one of the larger trees. There’s still a bit of light left although it’s dimmer here under the trees. I watch and wait, seeing the squirrels rush from tree limb to trunk, then down to the ground and up far too quickly for me to pursue.

It’s probably easier to catch one on the lawn, like I did the other day, but I don’t want to chance someone seeing me from the house. Crowley knows if anyone did, but I’d rather not give them a repeat performance.

I scan the trees, the underbrush, the shadowy spaces between the trees, and that’s when I see a flash of red deeper in the forest, between the trunks of the birch trees up ahead.

Is it a fox?

I creep a little deeper into the woods. A fox would likely provide more sustenance than a squirrel or even a rabbit but they are a protected species and the thought of draining one disturbs me, in more than just the general sense of how all of this is disturbing.

I’ve never liked the idea of fox hunts. Contributing to the demise of a protected species doesn’t sit well with me.

None of this bloody sits well with me. I’ve got no choice as far as the feeding goes--I have no idea what might happen if I try to stave it off. I’m actually a bit scared to find out, especially in a house full of people.

I don’t think resisting is an option. I can swear off ever taking human blood but I don’t think I’ll be able to withhold myself from all blood, not anymore. I was half crazed with need that first day and look what happened. I’ll have to live with the regret and guilt of that.

I see the flash of red between the trees again. I don’t think it’s a fox. It's too bright, catching the light in a way I wouldn’t expect from a fox.

Odd.

But familiar in a way I can’t quite explain.

The light is starting to fade, as the sun dips down in the sky. The squirrels are keeping their distance, staying up in the trees rather than scampering across the spaces between.

This won’t do. I need to find something. Anything.

I move further in, slowly and silently. Well, as silently as I can. I’m not particularly skilled at it yet, although I’ve gotten better over the past few weeks.

I’ll need to get better still.

I see movement to my left and I freeze, holding my breath. It’s a rabbit, sizeable and plump. Exactly what I need.

It’s out of reach but thank Crowley it takes two hops in my direction, bringing it almost close enough. I hold perfectly still, barely breathing, willing the rabbit to take one more hop, maybe two to bring it within my reach.

It does just that.

I burst from my hiding spot, arms outstretched, my fingers brushing at and then clenching in the rabbit’s fur, at the same time as a red streak lets loose from across the clearing, colliding with me and almost knocking the rabbit from my grasp.

There’s a confused moment where I feel the rabbit being pulled from my hands. A growl rips from my throat and I tighten my grip but almost drop my prey when I see what’s fighting me for it.

It looks like some sort of oversized lizard or iguana but that can’t be right. They’re not native to England.

That’s when I see the wings.

Fucking hell.

It's a dragon.

It can’t be. Dragons are known to be reclusive and extremely wary of humans.

Apparently not this one. This one is involved in a full out tug of war with me for this rabbit.

It can’t be a dragon.

It’s too small, for one thing. It’s no bigger than a spaniel. And it’s certainly not reclusive or wary. It hisses at me and that’s when I remember about dragons and fire. I drop the rabbit as if it were a hot coal and scuttle away, breathing rapidly.

What the bloody hell.

I’m staring at it, at the iridescent glitter of its scales and I can’t help but be reminded of something. Something in this very wood, years ago.

A shard of eggshell, thick and warm, rose-colored and glittering.

Could this be a baby dragon? I know it’s been years since I found the shell, so it’s not quite a baby dragon anymore but it’s still a youngster.

Dragons are immortal (unless they have the misfortune to run into my insufferable and indiscriminate roommate Simon Snow and end up hacked to bits) but they grow very slowly after they hatch. This one must be just a few years old.

The dragon glares at me and hisses again, talons digging into the rabbit’s fur (it must be a dragon, what else could it be) (It can’t be an iguana) (iguanas don’t have wings or talons). It nearly gets knocked over as the rabbit struggles mightily. The damn rabbit is near as big as the dragon but the daft thing isn’t intimidated by the size of its prey. I can see drops of blood in the rabbit’s fur now and my fangs drop at the scent of it.

The dragon bites at the rabbit’s throat and the rabbit goes limp, more blood welling at its neck.

I see its wings flutter but the dragon doesn’t appear to be able to fly with the weight of the rabbit. I’m pressed against the tree, not daring to get closer. Do baby dragons breath fire or is that something only the adults can do? Surely we’ve studied this but I can’t for the life of me remember right now.

It’s crucial information.

The dragon struggles with its wings for a moment more and then stops and decides to drag the rabbit carcass into a shadowy recess across the clearing, keeping its golden eyes on me as it retreats.

Its scales glow and even in the failing light of the setting sun I can see the shimmer of them, glittering gold and scarlet and a deep blood red. It’s beautiful.

The books don’t do dragons justice.

I can’t take my eyes off of it. I stare until it disappears in the twilight shadows and then let my breath out shakily.

It takes me almost twenty minutes to finally corner a squirrel and drain it dry. It’ll have to do for tonight. It’s near dark now and my excuse of kicking a football around is wearing thin.

I’m out again the next day and the one after that but I don’t see the dragon again until two days later, in the late afternoon.

It’s not as bright, the clouds covering the sun, so I miss seeing the glint of the scales until it lunges at the rabbit I’ve been stalking.

Not so fast, you bastard. I’ve spent the last two days in the library, doing my research on dragons. I know this one is young, likely less than five years old based on its size and that it’s not able to breathe fire at this stage. Soon enough but not quite yet. That’s why it hissed at me, rather than send a gout of flames in my direction. Lucky for me.

I get a grip on the rabbit and I’m not about to let go. Unfortunately it seems the dragon feels much the same way. We struggle in the dirt for a moment or two but then the damn thing rakes a claw across the back of my hand and I drop my hold on the rabbit’s hindquarters with a curse.

“You fucking arsehole,” I say, as the dragon hisses and glares whilst dragging this rabbit back to it’s nest among the trees. That’s twice now.

I need a better strategy.

The idea comes to me later that night. Maybe if the dragon gets food some other way it won’t fight me for it. I’ve got at least another ten days here at the lodge. I don’t intend to be wrestling in the dirt with a cantankerous midget dragon for the duration.

I don’t dare nick food from the kitchen. Vera runs a tight ship and she knows when even one biscuit goes missing.

I’ll have to find another way.

Another way unfortunately involves me and a bicycle and some rambling excuse that revolves around “better cardio” and “cross-training for football season.” It’s all rot, of course, but no one questions me so I pedal my way to the butcher shop to buy some cuts of fresh beef.

Then it’s just a matter of drawing the dragon out.

It works better than expected. The smell of the fresh meat draws it out. I get a suspicious glare in my direction but I sit quietly under a tree, pretending to be engrossed in the book I’m reading, as the dragon eyes the morsel I’ve left it and then sniffs it daintily.

It’s really quite lovely.The wings are webbed and delicate, almost see-through when stretched out, sharp spikes at the joints. The scales sparkle in the light, a mesmerizing range of red hues. I can see the sharp teeth, the curved talons, the spade like tail lashing back and forth.

It seems the first phase of my plan is working. The dragon seizes my offering in its jaws and drags it away to devour in privacy.

I’m off to the butcher shop the next day. And the next.

I manage to nab a rabbit while the dragon is distracted on the second day, so I’m counting that as a success, even if I’m finding my wallet considerably lighter as a result of the frequent trips to the butcher.

It’s on the third day that things change.

The dragon doesn’t even bother to give me its usual glare this time, advancing confidently to the cut of meat I’ve left in the usual spot. As it sniffs the food I move a bit closer, daring to do what I’ve been longing to for the past few days. I sidle up to it, as stealthily as possible, each movement slow and deliberate so as not to spook it.

I’m a handbreadth away when it turns its eyes to me. But it’s not the baleful stare I’m expecting. It cocks its head to the side as it regards me, looking almost curious. I hold very still.

The dragon takes a step towards me. I’m ready for this. I’ve got a bite of meat wrapped in a bit of butcher’s paper in my hand, kept aside for just this moment.

I lift my hand ever so slowly, letting the dragon watch my every move. It sniffs the air, no doubt catching the scent. I gingerly unwrap the paper, until the morsel is sitting exposed on the palm of my hand.

The dragon eyes the piece in my hand and then looks to the slab of meat I’ve left on the forest floor. It looks back and forth. I’m counting on it being greedy enough to want them both.

It seems I’ve got it right. The dragon edges closer to me and leans over my palm to sniff the bite. I’m holding my breath, every muscle tense. There’s a chance it could bite me but I’m willing to risk it.

I don’t think it will. I think we’re past that now somehow.

The dragon darts forward, snatching the piece of meat from my hand and downing it in one gulp. I almost laugh but I don’t want to scare it off, not now, not when it’s so near.

I swear it almost smirks as it swallows the food down and that’s when I dare to do it. I reach forward and gently run my finger along the back of its neck.

I expect it to retreat, to snap at me, to claw my hand away.

Instead it stretches out its neck and closes its eyes. I keep petting it, running my fingers down to where the wings attach. It shifts nearer, curling up next to my leg. I can feel the heat of it through my jeans. I keep up the repetitive motion and it's not long before I feel a thrumming sensation where it rests against my thigh and hear what almost sounds like a low hum.

I think it’s coming from the dragon. I think it’s purring or whatever it is that dragon’s do when they’re particularly content.

I run my hand from its neck all the way down to the tail, between the wings that are now resting limp and folded on the dragon’s back. I lean down just a bit and whisper to it “I think I’m going to call you Smaug.”

Smaug and I are hunting together by the end of the week. When I trip on a root and lose my grip on a squirrel a few days later, Smaug pounces on it before it gets away and, to my surprise, drags it over to me to drop it at my feet. When I stare down in shock he nudges it closer to me and then flicks my leg with his tail.

I reach for it, tentatively, in case I’m reading this all wrong, but once the squirrel is in my grasp I hear the humming again and Smaug butts his head against my leg before scampering off to track down his own meal.

I’m grateful and near tears as I sink my fangs into the squirrel and drink deep.

I don’t feel quite so alone.

Five years later

Baz

“Come along now, Snow. I’ve got someone for you to meet.”

Simon gives me a dubious look as I pull him into the trees behind the lodge. “Someone lives out here?”

“Yes, someone I’ve been friends with for quite awhile.” I smirk and raise an eyebrow. “I may have known you for more years but Smaug and I have definitely been friends for longer.”

“Smaug?”

I can’t help but laugh at Simon’s expression when we finally track down my dragon.

He looks utterly gobsmacked.

I have to admit Smaug is a fair bit larger than he was when we first met. Roughly the size of a Shetland pony and he’s nowhere near full-grown.

“There’s nothing to be alarmed at, Snow.”

“Not be alarmed? Are you fucking kidding me, Baz? This is a bloody dragon, you barmy git. And you’re flammable!”

“Smaug’s not about to torch me.”

“I see no reason to think he’s not. He’s a dragon, Baz, for Merlin’s sake. Are you daft?”

Smaug and Simon sizing each other up is enough to render me helpless with laughter. The way they both flare their wings is particularly endearing.

It’s alright. I’m sure they’ll get along.

Someday.

I hope.

Simon

Baz bloody Pitch has a pet dragon. Of all the magical creatures he chooses to befriend an animated flamethrower.

“You’re flammable!”

He’s laughing, the insufferable prat. “It’s fine, Snow. He’d never hurt me.”

“He might not intend to. One dragon sneeze gone wrong and you’re done for.”

“Shut up and come say hello.” Baz drags me over to the dragon.

I won’t deny he’s beautiful. The dragon, I mean (well, Baz too, but I always think he’s beautiful).

This dragon reminds me of the one from Watford. From the day Baz cast “Ladybird.”

The day it all started for us.

I can’t let my mind wander like this. Baz is walking up to a great bloody dragon (Okay, fine, a small bloody dragon) and he’s flammable.

Baz is so close to the dragon now and my heart is about to beat its way out of my chest. I’ve broken into a sweat. I’m absolutely terrified of what this thing can do to Baz. I wonder if I can shove him out of the way fast enough when the dragon starts to breathe fire. Shield him with my wings.

I mean, they’re dragon wings, right? They should be a bit fire-proof?

While I’m going mental over the possibilities Baz has actually sidled up to the dragon and is petting it. Literally running his hand back and forth along the spiky part of its neck.

“Hello there, Smaug,” Baz croons to it. His voice has gone all low and velvety. “This is my friend, Simon.”

The dragon gives me look, sizing me up, I swear to Merlin. It’s not my first time facing one of these, I know that look. I’d give anything to have my sword right now, Baz’s assurances this thing is safe be damned.

Baz runs his hand to just above the wing joints and keeps petting the blasted menace.

And the fucking thing nuzzles its head into Baz’s chest and closes its eyes, looking for all the world like an overgrown cat. It’s literally purring. There’s this weird humming sound coming from it, I swear.

“Simon, stop looking at Smaug like you want to take his head off and get over here. I told you, he’s safe.” As if on cue the dragon wraps its tail around Baz’s lower legs and it’s just the picture of lethally powered contentment.

“I can’t believe you named it Smaug,” I say, as I take a tentative step closer. I’d feel a sight better if I had a fire extinguisher with me.

“You know how much I love Tolkien.”

“Well, yes, but I didn’t realise you’d be daft enough to have a pet dragon.”

Baz actually rolls his eyes at me. “Smaug isn’t a pet. I told you, he’s a friend.” Baz looks down at the dragon resting against his chest and moves his hand to place it on the damn thing’s head, far too close to its jaws in my opinion. “He gave me my first lessons in hunting and stalking.” Baz rubs the creature’s spiky crest. “He was with me when it all started.” There’s a fond look on his face as he gazes at the dragon but there’s something unspeakably melancholy there too.

I close the distance until I’m standing just in front of Baz. The dragon opens its eyes and stares at me, its golden gaze holding mine, heavy and deliberate. Then it stretches its neck out and dips its head a little.

“Go on,” Baz whispers.

I reach my hand out slowly and gently brush my fingers low on its forehead. Baz nods at me so I run my fingers up and down the scales there. They’re smoother than I expect as my hand slides up and rougher as my hand comes back down. The dragon—Smaug—closes its eyes and that’s when I feel a thrumming sensation. I jerk my hand back but Baz shakes his head and motions me to keep going, so I do.

And then the blasted thing is purring and Baz is smirking at me.

“He likes it when you rub above his wing joints too,” Baz suggests and then leans in close, his breath against my ear. “Just like you do.” And he laughs, the insufferable bastard.

He’s not wrong and I’m bloody well red in the face now.

“So this is why you think you’re such an expert on dragons, is it? Your dragon friend here?”

Baz’s arm slips around my waist and I feel him press a kiss into my hair. “Hmm. More my dragon boyfriend.” And then he laughs and Smaug looks up at him with such a puzzled expression that I can’t help but laugh too.

#carry on #baz pitch #simon snow #snowbaz #carry on countdown #coc 2019 #magical creatures #carry on prequel #parental figures #angst #my writing #my fics #mentions of blood and feeding #mentions of the family dog from wayward son

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austenholls · 4 years

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Purple-Hued Night

LOCATION → huntington beach, ca

TIME FRAME → friday night, june 18th, 2027 | 11:00 - 11:47 PM

NOTES → written on discord. winnie & austen chat in the hot tub while sharing a bottle of lukewarm Jameson - about austen’s muse, winnie’s dancing, and caring about what people think.

TAGGING → @austenholls & @songwheein

Austen

[ Austen, bottle of Jameson in her hand, shimmies out of her shorts to reveal her red swimsuit bottoms. This night feels weird, it isn't how she wanted it to go, but by now she's somewhere between tipsy and drunk and her barely there high from earlier has dissipated. She slips into the hot tub, eyes attempting to avoid the view of the bonfire. She reaches out to snatch her phone that has spilled from the pockets of her discarded shorts and quickly plays a playlist - the first song being How Will I Know by Whitney Houston ] "There's a boy I know, he's the one I dream of, looks into my eyes, takes me to the clouds above, mmm-hmm," [ She sings softly before pressing the Jameson bottle to her lips, bobbing her head to the music. Eyes peer to her left and spot Winnie, her free hand lifts in beckoning wave. ]

Winnie

[ Clearly the first half hour or so of the bonfire had lured her into a false sense of security that they could all suck it up and get along. She herself hadn’t been involved in any of the drama, but there had been plenty. It had been easy enough to slip away to the deck when she was ready for her exit, but the night had been too perfect to abandon just yet. Cool, ocean breeze, purply black skies. When music breaks the din, she turns to look and finds Austen looking back at her, she can’t help but smile. It’s been nice spending a little time with her as adults. ] There’s nothing sadder than drinking alone, y’know.

Austen

[ She can't tell if there's pity or if it's just the truth. She nods for Winnie to come join, bottom lip worried between her teeth ] Then make me less sad.

Winnie

[ She crosses the deck to the edge of the hot tub, peering down at Austen. The music makes her bare feet tap almost unconsciously. ] Are you sad? [ It only takes her a second or two to fully accept the invite, slipping out of her shorts and cropped tee until she’s stepping and then sitting into the water in her underwear. She reaches out for the bottle. ] Hand it over, sad bitch.

Austen

[ Eyes dart to the slight foot tap and then back to the blonde's eyes. ] A little. Maybe. [ She's too drunk to deny it. Also too drunk to deny herself the joy of watching the thing dancer gracefully step out of her clothes. A sloppy drink is taken before handing over the handle. ] Tell me the secret, happy bitch. Ice blue aura. How are you always so collected?

Winnie

[ She snorts softly before taking a quick swig. God, that’s rank straight. ] I’ve always been conflict-avoidant. [ Eyes roll a little. ] I also care a lot less these days. But I’m not always zen, contrary to what you might think. Clearly I’m a very good actress in addition to being a very good dancer. I’m one singing voice away from being a triple threat, damn.

Austen

[ There's no shame in the fact that she doesn't care how gross the alcohol is. ] Wait - [ a pause as she points at Winnie. ] Are you saying you /can't/ sing?

Winnie

[ Blonde head turns to meet Austen’s eyes with a raised brow. ] Why do you think I /can/ sing?

Austen

[ Tilts her head, both brows raised ] You were like so good at literally everything in high school. Am I supposed to think otherwise? [ asks with a laugh, holding her hand out and making a grabbing motion at the bottle of liquor ]

Winnie

[ Gladly hands it over, then finally ducks under the water to wet her hair, using both hands to slick it back after she resurfaces. Leans back against the wall of the hot tub. ] I’m a passable singer, I guess. Enough for me to lay something on a track until I can get one of my much better friends to sing it for me.

Austen

[ slips a hand around the bottle, opting to set it aside rather than cloud her mind anymore ] So maybe you are a triple threat. Dancing, Acting, Music ability in some way. Not everyone is so lucky. [ shrugs, looking to the blonde ] You say you care a lot less these days. What's that mean?

Winnie

[ Thin shoulders rise and fall. ] It sounds so douchey, but I just don’t care. If someone doesn’t like me, I’ll find someone else that will. If someone doesn’t believe in me, I believe in myself. [ She’s quiet for a second or two, thoughtful. ] I guess it’s easy to not care as much about other people if I sacrificed what my parents think of me to be happy. If I’m not going to let them stop me, why would I let anyone else? [ Another pause. ] Music helps. A lot. [ She turns her head, looking at Austen curiously. ] Art’s always helped you, right?

Austen

[ Blinks at the other girl - was that real? She's met people who feel that way, but is it ever actually true that you just don't care what people thing? Seems farfetched. ] I.. [ She wonders if she left behind what her mother - Hannah - thought of her, then maybe she'd be freer to care less, too. ] Seems like you've got it all figured out. I can't imagine not caring. [ A dry, possibly bitter, laugh leaves her lips ] Used to. Haven't been able to get much out recently.

Winnie

[ She can’t help but laugh. ] I’m not enough of an asshole to think I’ve got anything figured out— let alone all of it. But I promised myself after... Kennedy— everything— that I was going to stop being happy the way other people wanted me to. I was sick of meeting those expectations. [ She’s quiet after Austen’s explanation about her art slump. Visual art’s never been her strong suit, but she knows how much it hurts to be creatively frustrated. After a moment or two— ] Have you done anything new lately?

Austen

I mean, you seem like you've got it all down. Happy in LA, new look, new you. I feel like the only thing that I've figured out is that I look terrible as a brunette and I am still a child at heart. [ shrugs, looking up at the sky as she leaned back into the hot tub's jets ] That's what high school was about for you then? Pleasing the parents and fitting into their mold? [ she asks, though she sort of always knew that. there's part of her that can't help but cling to who they all were back then ] Like in general or a new medium? I've been doodling a lot, but nothing that makes me want to finish... I.. [ pauses, looking over at Winnie ] Maybe I'm kind of scared that I'm not good at it anymore.

Winnie

You can’t be ‘not good’ at it anymore. That’s not how it works. [ Art is art is art is art. ] I mean I could break both my legs tomorrow and be objectively ruined, but what you do? That doesn’t just get lost unless /you/ forget it. [ She tips her head to one side, thinking. ] I mean in general. Go somewhere new. Listen to something new. Watch something new. Fuck someone new. Eat something new. Sometimes routine smothers our art, y’know? [ She sinks down into the water a bit. ] Maybe you should do something new, even if you’re bad at it.

Austen

[ She knows Winnie is right - that's why the laugh that escapes her is somewhat exasperated. ] I went to Portland. I fucked a bunch of new people there. Ate a lot of weird new Asian foods... But yeah. I think... there's something stuck inside of me and I'm... [ Talking this much about herself felt weird. This felt weird. ] Maybe I should do something new. [ Caves and agrees, smiling a little before laughing again ] Do you ever get blocked dance or music wise?

Winnie

Sure, yeah. It happens, and it sucks. [ She flicks a little bit of water at Austen— just enough to skim off the surface. ] Here. We’ll have an example. Doesn’t have to work, but it’s worth a shot. Close your eyes.

Austen

[ Flinches when the water comes her direction, furrowing her brow ] Oh, god. This feels like some weird ass hippie bullshit is about to happen. [ Laughs, closing her eyes and settling in - the alcohol is pushing her to trust Winnie a little more than she usually would ]

Winnie

[ Laughing. ] I’m definitely not the hippie of this group. [ She leans out of the water to wipe her hand on her shorts and retrieve her phone. Scrolling through it, she finds the song she wants to play and sets it on the deck between their heads. ] You’re not going to understand what she’s saying, but that’s not important, right? Just trying something new. See if it even gets half a wheel turning in that ginger head. [ She plays 보라빛 밤 on her phone and sits back. It’s a song she’s vibed to for a long time. It makes her think of colors and feelings and she, personally, finds it really emotive— inspiring. She doubts Austen will take nearly anything as much from it as she does. But maybe the language barrier will actually help. Maybe she’s thinking too damn much. ]

Austen

[ smirks ] Now I'm curious who you think /is/ the hippie. [ lets the silence settle, eyebrow raising over closed eyes as she hears the song begin. it's clearly Korean - she can tell that much, but shes never been into K-Pop. She's assuming that's what this is, at least. The music has a strong beat, an identity that's bouncy and she can tell that this is definitely something people can dance to. Austen listens to sad music, slow music when she paints - so Winnie isn't wrong. This is new. She gently moves her hips beneath the water, her head bobbing to the chorus. When it ends, she opens her eyes, looking to Winnie. ] Can you play it again?

Winnie

[ If she tried to pretend she hadn’t been running the entire choreo to herself while the song played, she’d be lyyyyyying. Sunmi is a queen, and Winnie will worship. The grin that splits her face when Austen asks her to play it again is straight devilish. Shit eating. ] You wanna know what it’s called?

Austen

[ Eyes blink a few times as she sees Winnie's grin, her own smile growing ] Sure... I can't say I won't butcher it. But I was just starting to feel something. I need to hear it again. [ She motions quickly with a hand, water flicking off of it ]

Winnie

Purple-hued night. [ That’s her favorite part. Everything about the song /feels/ purple. It’s such good production. She presses play again. ]

Austen

[ There's a shiver that hits her spine - her mind paints an entire piece in her mind before she gets it onto a canvas or paper. Varied hues of purple would mesh perfectly with what she was seeing the first time she listened. As the song plays again, this time the piece lights up in her head in color, the smile on her face unavoidable. Maybe Winnie was right. Maybe new things would spark her muse... just like this. ] [ The music stops again and a drunken Austen finds Winnie's hand underneath the water ] Will you send this to me? I... thanks, Win. [ her voice is soft in a whisper ]

Winnie

[ Again it's like muscle memory to thread their fingers together. Austen's hands are bigger than her own, but they're thin and slight. Winnie squeezes gently. She's still smiling, but it's a little softer now. She nods. ] Don't thank me. Thank Sunmi. [ She winks. ] But yeah of course I'll send it to you.

Austen

[ Austen returns the squeezed hand, an easy laugh escaping her ] Would it be your dream to dance with her? [ Keeps her hand comfortably in Winnie's. It feels like this past week has bonded them in some way. Maybe because they're both some sort of artist ] I don't listen to K-Pop usually.

Winnie

[ She reaches for the bottle of liquor and takes a sip, coughing quietly. ] I'd love to dance with a lot of kpop artists, to be honest. A lot of artists in general. The few times I've done tours or even one-off gigs with people in LA have been so fucking fun.

Austen

[ Releases Winnie's hand in favor of running it through her hair ] I feel like you're going to have to show me some of your tik toks or something because as much as I know you're good at everything... Like... bitch, prove it.

Winnie

[ Winnie scoffs, loudly, and pads her way across the hot tub to sit directly opposite Austen. She drapes her arms along the outer edge and leans back, languidly extending her legs, one reaching out of the water in a pose before she brings it down to splash the water the other girl's way. ] My tiktok isn't hard to find, ass.

Austen

[ She watches the other girl, a brow raising as the other girl's graceful limbs very particularly moved through the air. She's about to speak again when water comes flooding her way - there's just a loud, joyful laugh that leaves her as she wipes off her eyes ] Oh, sorry, I don't go scrounging tik tok for my super smart, always had a booked schedule friend from high school. [ Easily shoves some water Winnie's way, hoping to get her back just a bit ]

Winnie

[ She blows a raspberry, rolling her eyes in response. ] You must've had some other friend back then because I was never super smart. Sure you don't mean Shiloh? [ A beat. ] Maybe she does have a tiktok. [ Leaning forward more into the water. ] I promise you, I'm that good. Whether you find my account or not.

Austen

I mean... like comparing anyone to me - they're super smart. It's not like I fucking read your report card, my man. [ she laughs ] I'm gonna find the account and you're probably like allstar level good. Don't reduce your talent. [ leans forward, matching Winnie's stance ] Or is this an LA thing? Where people pretend like they're not good just to get more praise?

Winnie

[ That gets a loud bark of laughter. ] The last thing /anyone/ gets in LA is praise. [ This time when she splashes Austen with water, it's much gentler. Half-hearted. ] Let me know when you find it. And let me know when you paint something. I wanna see it. First, even.

Austen

[ It feels nice to be around Winnie - like she's less pressure than the rest of the group for some reason. Which is odd considering they'd just talked about the thing that felt the most full of pressure - her art. ] First? [ A soft hum vibrates against her lips. ] Will do. I can make that promise. I can also promise I will be up until all hours of the night finding Winnie Song on tiktok.

Winnie

[ She lifts two fingers to her brow, saluting. ] There are worse ways to go to sleep than knowing there's another girl out there watching my videos all night long. [ A grin. ]

Austen

I'm sure I wouldn't be the only one. [ Austen smirks, her buzz beginning to fade a little and the idea of warm Jameson makes her shudder. She stands, clumsily stepping out of the hot tub - if there are ever two opposites in movement, it's these two - except on skates ] Hey. [ she turns to Winnie after grabbing a towel from a nearby chair ] Could you help me set up a tiktok? I feel like my roller skating could at least get some sort of attention on there...

Winnie

[ She holds up a hand, thumb up. ] You got it, dude. [ Head tips to one side, appraisingly. ]

Austen

[ She nods, though tiktok seems like a heavy investment of time. The redhead gently dries off her legs and torso before wrapping the towel around her waist. ] I'm gonna grab something new to drink, maybe change. Don't have too much fun without me. [ She chuckles, picking up the Jameson and her clothes before waving a quick had to Winnie. She tiptoes toward the back entrance, humming the song from before. Maybe she'd get something out onto canvas or paper soon. ]

#✧·˚.winnie #✧·˚.winnie3 #✧·˚.event1 #pacthq.event1 #✧·˚.events

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inevitably-johnlocked · 5 years

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I-J’s Top 20 Bookmarks of 2018

I’M A BIT LATE WITH THIS, but I’ve been meaning to do this for awhile. I want to start reccing more fics that people haven’t asked for, and thought this was a good way to start that :P

After I made my Top 30 Read-Again Fics (March 2019) fic list, I thought hmm, why not just make a list of my fave fics I bookmarked in 2018? Because why not?

So here we are; it was a RIDICULOUSLY hard selection process (it was supposed to be only 10!), since everything I bookmark are amazing stories. I kept the criteria to fics I’ve only read for the very first time in 2018 and then proceeded to bookmark, so these aren’t necessarily fics that were released in 2018, just stuff I’ve read and bookmarked.

ANYWAY, without further ado, in word count order:

I-J’s TOP 20 BOOKMARKS of 2018