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maslenitsa
#goodbye winter see you in half a year#russian maslenitsa is a pagan thing mashed together with ortodox christianity#mari maslenitsa is a mix of mari pagan traditions and russian maslenitsa due to the land being part of historical Russia for quite a while#what our peoples (and most peoples everywhere) agree on when it comes to holiday celebrations is “fire good” “food tasty” & “have fun” lol#also i forgot the new phone is stupid and i cannot give the drawing app the permit to save files so there's only a sceenshot :P#sketchbook and stuff#dear diary
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Mini Fanfic #1038: First Day of the Christmas Month (SSBU X Kingdom Hearts)
Pit: Goooooooooood Morning, One in All!~
Sora: How are we doing on this fine day?~
Ren: Pretty good on my end
Mona: Same here.
Yoshi: Yep.
Pitto: Tired as all heck, but I'm fine I guess
Pit: Sweet! Cuz guess what day it is today?~
Yoshi: December 1st?
Sora: Yep! Which meeeeeeans?~
Pitto: Oh God here we go...
Pit: THE FIRST DAY OF THE MONTH TOWARDS CHRISTMAS IS UPON US, FELLA!!
Sora:
Mona: Wait, you guys celebrate the first day of month?
Sora: Only when December comes around. It helps us get more excited for Christmas to come around in a few more days lol
Pit: And we figured what better way to start the day off than to wake our wonderful girlfriends up with the sweet sound of Mariah Carey!.....Which.... haven't really worked out for either of us in the end....
Ren: They caught you two red handed, didn't they?
Sora: Yeah....With iron grips
Pit: And creepy smiles to boot.....
Sora/Pit: (⊙_⊙) (⊙_⊙)
Pitto: Serve you dumbasses right lol
Pitto: No one wants their eardrums blasted by that dumb song all morning
Pit: We knoooow, but it's such a classic tho!
Sora: The slow, beautiful start up, the jingling bells, the upper instrumentals, the catchy lyric, what's not to love!
Pitto: How overrated it gotten
Pitto: I swear, I see people play it everywhere in the past two years!
Yoshi: Yeahhh the song's great and all, but even I gotten tired of it at some point.
Yoshi: I'm more of a Jingle Bell Rock person
Ren: This Christmas will always be one of my Top Holidays Jams
Yoshi: The orignal or the one made by CB?
Ren: Orignal. Although, I am starting to warm up to the newer versions of the song in particular
Morgana: I like Silent Night quite a lot
Morgana: More specifically, the Temptations version.
Pit: Yesssssss! Their take on the song was soooo good to listen too!
Pitto: Have u guys heard their version of Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer?
Pitto: Smoothiest Christmas song I've ever heard in my life
Ren: Agree with you on that one, Angel Brotha
Yoshi: Yeah. Temptations always knows how to make their hits smooth. They even made a Garfield song the most catchy thing ever like wth!?
Mona: Seriously? What's it called?
Yoshi: Shake Your Paw. It plays once Jon starts busting moves on the dance floor, it's incredible
Sora: Ooooh I wouldn't mind seeing a video of that at one point
Pit: Yeah me too
............................................................................
Riku: (In the Kitchen Room) Guys! Breakfast is Ready!!
Sora/Pit: (Turns to the Kitchen Room Way While Sitting on the Living Room's Sofa with Kirby) 'Kay!
Viridi/Kairi: (In the Other Room) Coming!
Kirby: (Happily Raises his Hands Up in Rejoice) Poyo!~
...............................................................................
Sora: Hey guys, my BF Riku has just finished cooking breakfast for us, the girls, and Kirby
Sora: Wanna dig in with us?
Ren: Sounds nice, but I can't
Ren: I'm already making breakfast of my own and for my Queen back home
Ren: Just a little somethin' the celebrate for completing the N.N.N. Challenge for the first time!
.........................................................................
Ren Amimaya: SUCCESSFULLY COMPLETES THE CHALLENGE
........................................................
Pitto: Oh God, you seriously took part in that dumb challenge?I
Ren: Yep. Ryuji dared to me to it actually
Ren: Not the easiest challenge I've ever taken, but it wasn't too hard either
Sora: Wait. What's the No Nut .November. challenge again?
Pit: Yeah. Does it really involve not eating anything nuts related for a whole month?
Ren: Yeahhhh......
Ren: Something like that.....
Ren: Anyways, Makoto's waking up, so I gotta go now. Ciao.
Big Bro Ren Has Left the Chat.
Mona: Riiiight.....
Mona: But anyways, I gotta get going too. I promised Futuba I would help and Boss open up shop this morning.
Mona: Plus, I kinda need to think of a gift to give to Lavenza for our first year anniversary....
Sora: Awwwwwwww that's so sweeet!!~
Piyt: Do you want us to help you look for anything someday this week?
Mona: Sure! I could use all the help I could get really lol
Mona: Anyways, have a great rest of the morning and see you all later
Mona Has Now Left the Chat.
Pit: What about you and Yoshi, Pitto?
Pitto: That depends.
Pitto: How's good is his cooking?
Sora: Godly
Sora: His meals and craftsmanship are compared to that to many gods and powerful beings alike
Sora: My only wish in life I'd that my cooking skills will be close to being as good as his someday......... (˘_˘٥)
Pit: Oh my gosh, everything you said just now was beautiful and all inspiring!
Sora: Thanks. Bro. I only speak from heart and mind of a Keyblade Warrior
Pit: Preach, Spra, PREACH!
Pitto: Uh.....huh
Pitto: But yeah, I'll take you losers up on the invitation
Yoshi: Me too
Yoshi: And also......
Yoshi: I think I might have an idea of how we can all start the first day of December off.
Pit/Sora: You do!?
..........................................................
Dark Pit: (Raises an Eyebrow in Confusion at Yoshi While Sitting Next to Him on the Living Room Sofa) You do?
Yoshi: Yeah, I do. (Turns to See a Mistletoe Hanging Up From the Ceiling in the Distance Before Turning Back to DP) You'll.....probably won't like this one though.
Dark Pit: (Immediately Puts on a Deadpinned Look on his Face) What makes you think that exactly?
Yoshi: Welllllllllllll.........
To be Continued
@keyenuta
@princekirijo
@cyber-wildcat
@ma-lemons
@khtext
@26shann
#super smash ultimate#kingdom hearts#pit#sora#dark pit#yoshi#ren amimaya#morgana#kairi#viridi#riku#kirby#makoto (mentioned)#lavenza (mentioned)#groupchat#first day of the month#humor#fluff#sorikai#destiny island trio#pit x viridi#shumako#morgana x lavenza#no nut november#christmas stories
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True Dreams of the Believers - Series on al-Khilāfah (the Caliphate) of Al-Mahdī (litterally "The Guided one")
17 Sha'abān 1444 - in Bilād al-Maghrib, corresponding to 11 March 2023
First some ahadīth about Al-Mahdī:
Abdullah ibn Mas’ud reported: The Messenger of Allah, peace and blessings be upon him, said:
لَا تَذْهَبُ الدُّنْيَا حَتَّى يَمْلِكَ الْعَرَبَ رَجُلٌ مِنْ أَهْلِ بَيْتِي يُوَاطِئُ اسْمُهُ اسْمِي
The world will not pass away until the Arabs are ruled by a man from my household, whose name agrees with my name.
Source: Sunan al-Tirmidhī 2230, Grade: Sahih
مِنَّا أَهْلَ الْبَيْتِ يُصْلِحُهُ اللَّهُ فِي لَيْلَةٍ
The Mahdi is from us, the prophetic household. Allah will set right his affairs in a single night.
Source: Sunan Ibn Mājah 4085, Grade: Sahih li ghayrihi
‘Ali al-Qari commented on this tradition, writing:
يُصْلِحُ الله أَمْرَهُ وَيَرْفَعُ قَدْرَهُ فِي لَيْلَةٍ وَاحِدَةٍ أَوْ فِي سَاعَةٍ وَاحِدَةٍ مِنَ اللَّيْلِ حَيْثُ يَتَّفِقُ عَلَى خِلَافَتِهِ أَهْلُ الْحَلِّ وَالْعَقْدِ فِيهَا
Allah will set right his affairs and raise his status in one night, or in a moment of one night, such that those invested with authority will agree upon his Caliphate.
Source: Mirqāt al-Mafātīḥ 8/3439
Picture above, one of the ancient Madrassa built in Fes, Bilād al-Maghrib around 700 Hijri.
In the past few years many amongst the duāt (callers to Islām and Sunnah), and the Imām in various parts of the world have heard of dreams by our brothers and sisters in Islām which agree with the prophecy of Al-Mahdī.
This is across the Muslim world, and what is interesting is that some give us a flavour of what the Khilāfah might look like, bi idhni LLAH.
Only dreams which do not contradict the prophetic ahadīth and athār from the Sahabā can be true. The others can be dismissed obviously.
PHD Ismaīl BenZakariyah, and other duāt (callers to Islām and Sunnah) says he receives many more dreams than he actually talks about, but he first checks who the dreamer is and whether he is know to be a person of Deen and truthfulness and dismisses those by people who may be afflicted by Sihr - magic or other afflictions of the Rūh (soul).
We have here a dream by a sister told by a dā'ī about one year ago now, which is interesting as it gives us an insight on how extensive the Khilāfah may be. She says :
We were celebrating Eid-al-'Arsh (the Celebration of the Throne of the actual Monarch, which is a national holiday in Bilād al-Maghrib) and it is as if I had come out, I found outside a lot of people on the roads, they were all out and it was very crowded. I was amongst a group of men and there was a man staring at me..I saw myself wearing a coat and heading back home. As I was going home I could see the darkness fall, the day was ending. I met on my way a woman I knew. She came with me to get onto the bus.
When I got closer to the street, I got coins out of my bag. I was shocked to see the look of the coins had changed. Their colour was green.
I found a huge coin, on it was drawn something. I looked at it and it was the figure of a man who was dressed like a fighter.
I woke up wondering what this dream is about.
The interpretation by one of the people of Deen was the following - and Allāh knows best :
The symbol of Eid al-'Arsh in the dream is interpreted as events that will get all the people of Bilād al-Maghrib out, and the crowds gathering are signs that changes are coming. These changes are most likely not only limited to Bilād al-Maghrib but rather the whole of the Islamic world.
Her being seated amongst the men indicates that some very great events that will change the order and regime will occur, and that people are aware that these changes are on their way. A lot of people are surveilling matters and affairs of the country knowing that change will most likely come. It is true that with social media now all affairs of the regime are being explained scrutinized and criticised like never before, not only in Bilād al-Maghrib but everywhere across the Muslim world. People also don't believe that affairs will stay as they are and expect major changes in the future in the regime and others affairs of the country,(this is the case in many other Arab countries where social unrest has increased in the past few years).
Her getting a coat on and leaving to go back home with darkness of the time of maghrib - sunset in the background is an indication that fitan (trials and tribulations) are on their way.
These fitan are the ones prophetized to come just before the appearance of Imām Al-Mahdī. And the sign that this is the case is what happens next in the dream : she sees a woman she knows - that is a sign of developments and events that are expected, known to come (i.e. from the prophetic ahadīth). Then she sees new coins. This symbol means the rule of the land has changed, the rulers and regime have changed. What is meant here is not only Bilād al-Maghrib. We are talking about al-Khilāfah - the Caliphate. The fact that the coin symbol is a man who wears fighter clothes means the Khilāfah will be established by Al-Mahdī.
This agrees with ahadīth about Al-Mahdī being the ruler of a Khilāfah - a unitary state that will extend over many current nations of today.
And Allāh knows best.
الْمَهْدِيُّ مِنِّي أَجْلَى الْجَبْهَةِ أَقْنَى الْأَنْفِ يَمْلَأُ الْأَرْضَ
قِسْطًا وَعَدْلًا كَمَا مُلِئَتْ جَوْرًا وَظُلْمًا يَمْلِكُ سَبْعَ سِنِينَ
The Mahdi will be from my lineage, with a curved nose. He will fill the earth with justice and equity, just as it had been filled with tyranny and oppression. He will rule for seven years.
Source: Sunan Abī Dāwūd 4285, Grade: Sahih
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Eleanor Roosevelt: The Promise of Human Rights
The fourth of July is the great American Holiday that celebrates the wisdom of our founding and the principles that define us. I have posted on this before and highlight that recent post again.
But I also feel that the principles enshrined in our own Declaration and Constitution set the precedence for a broader set of principles that were developed at the end of the Second World War. The principles that are found in the United Nations Declaration of Human Rights (UNDHR).
Every July Fourth, we should reflect on the past while looking forward to what those values mean for us Americans. In reflecting on the past, and considering some issues we face in the present, it may be good for us to consider the wisdom of First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt, who was also the first Chairperson of the Commission of Human Rights, and her American vision for these principles. She stated her concern in this article she authored, recognizing that "throughout the world there are many people who do not enjoy the basic rights which have come to be accepted in many other parts of the world as inherent rights of all individuals, without which no one can live in dignity and freedom." This is very much a concern that many of us continue to recognize today, both throughout the world and even here in our own country. For sure, we have made some amazing advances here in the United States since 1948, but in light of the recent Supreme Court rulings, it does feel that we need to continue reflecting on the guiding values of the UNDHR principles. Here, I share (and agree with) her hopes and dreams for what the ratification of this document may do for promoting both human rights and world peace.
As the Convention is adhered to by one country after another, it will actually bring into being rights which are tangible and can be invoked before the law of the ratifying countries. Everywhere many people will feel more secure. And as the Great Powers tie themselves down by their ratifications, the smaller nations which fear that the great may abuse their strength will acquire a sense of greater assurance.
As I reflect on these words, I do so while considering the upcoming movie "Oppenheimer" by Christopher Nolan. I believe the former First Lady's wisdom should be seen within the backdrop of the ethical dilemma portrayed in this film. Nolan has us again remember the fact that we live in a nuclear age and as we consider issues of oppression, social violence, and war, we always need to be attentive to this reality and strive to promote global security in defense of these rights rather than succumbing to war. May we never forget the lessons of the Second World War.
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Today, as we consider the situation of conflicts and migration patterns, we need to reflect on where we are in supporting the hope and promise that Eleanor Roosevelt championed then. In the face of our current conflicts and global challenges, Pope Francis tells us that "We are still far from a globalization of the most basic of human rights." The Catholic Church sees the principles of the UNDHR defending both civil/political rights as well as social/economic rights. Consider what Pope John XXIII emphasizes when he began his treatment of human rights in his encyclical Pacem in Terris.
But first, We must speak of man's rights. Man has the right to live. He has the right to bodily integrity and to the means necessary for the proper development of life, particularly food, clothing, shelter, medical care, rest, and, finally, the necessary social services. In consequence, he has the right to be looked after in the event of illhealth; disability stemming from his work; widowhood; old age; enforced unemployment; or whenever through no fault of his own he is deprived of the means of livelihood.
Certainly, we can see that Pope Francis continues this tradition as he emphasizes the social and economic dimensions of our human rights tradition. Humans are social beings, beings whose fundamental identities are social and relational. For Pope Francis, as well as Pope John XXIII, the context for understanding human rights is that it must serve the common good. For Catholics, claiming individual rights presumes a social responsibility. It cannot exist divorced from this social dimension. Otherwise, it can be used by those who have power to threaten the social order for their own individual desires. Promoting this sense of human rights, Pope Francis suggests, will keep us from facing the tragedy of war.
The human person, with his or her inalienable rights, is by nature open to relationship. Implanted deep within us is the call to transcend ourselves through an encounter with others... Unless the rights of each individual are harmoniously ordered to the greater good, those rights will end up being considered limitless and consequently will become a source of conflicts and violence.
Eleanor Roosevelt promoted FDR's four freedoms when helping to craft the 30 UNDHR principles. These principles included the social/economic rights along with the civil/political rights. This holistic approach would serve the common good in a way that Pope John XXIII thought would respond to the potential nuclear crisis of 1963. We need to continue being attentive to the potential nuclear threat in our own day. "We can no longer think of war as a solution," Pope Francis tells us, "because its risks will probably always be greater than its supposed benefits. In view of this, it is very difficult nowadays to invoke the rational criteria elaborated in earlier centuries to speak of the possibility of a “just war”. Never again war!"
I would say that Pope John XXIII and Pope Francis today shared in the wisdom of what Mrs. Roosevelt accomplished with her commission back in 1948. May we continue their vision of building support for a world based on the recognition of universal human rights.
Many of us thought that lack of standards for human rights the world over was one of the greatest causes of friction among the nations, and that recognition of human rights might become one of the cornerstones on which peace could eventually be based.
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halloween prompts- “We are definitely the coolest people here.”
October was always Tabitha’s favourite. The warm breeze licking at her skin, smells of autumn everywhere she went, and the warmth of the town soothed her every year.
That was with Chicago. Riverdale was a little different.
The breeze still lapped at her skin, but it was colder. Autumn scents lingered in the air, but not the good autumn scents. And it was so cold mid-October.
It was still her favourite month, though. She can’t abandon her fondness just because she’s still getting used to a new place.
Tabitha clips on a pair of spider earrings for the day to celebrate the upcoming holiday. That, and she and Jughead had been invited to an early Halloween party so what better way to show her spirit?
“Hey, Tabs, did the invitation say anything about mandatory costumes?” She hears her boyfriend’s voice and peeks her head out the door of the bathroom to find him.
“Why?” she inquires. “You have some ideas for dressing up?”
Tabitha still searches for him as he scoffs. “Not at all. I don’t think I participated once in the high school’s Halloween spirit days.”
“Unbelievable. We’re gonna change that this year.”
“Seriously? I’m already dressed for the night. Do we have to?”
Jughead appears out of their room. He’s wearing orange at least, Tabitha notes.
“Not tonight, Jug,” she amends. “For Halloween. We have to do couples costumes.”
He gives her a teasing cross of his arms, then unwraps them to make his way to her and hold her shoulders. “Fine. I trust your judgment.”
“You definitely should. I’m one of the greats when it comes to costumes.” She holds his face and pulls Jughead down for a kiss.
When they break apart, he’s smiling at her. “Normally I’m not the one to say this, but… are we ever gonna get going to this party?”
---
They arrive at the Pembrooke later than the start time the invitation had stated, but it doesn’t bother Tabitha, and she’s certain it doesn’t bother Jughead either.
She raises a fist to knock on the door to Veronica’s apartment, then slips herself into the comfort of her boyfriend’s arms.
The door opens and Veronica greets them, dressed head to toe in the most extravagant outfit Tabitha has ever seen Veronica Lodge wear. “Good evening, glad you could finally join us,” she teases, stepping aside to let them in.
Tabitha steps in first, holding onto Jughead only by hand now. “So. What’s our plan, Tabs?” he asks her once Veronica has shut the door behind them, locking them inside the horrors of socializing.
She looks around quickly, and amongst the sea of Riverdaliens, spots a shining beacon of perfect avoidance.
“Hang by the refreshments table the whole night?”
He grins at her. “Now that sounds like the best way to spend any party.”
Tabitha smiles back at Jughead as they keep their grip on each other’s hands and make their way to the table of snacks and drinks that seems mostly deserted, minus a few guests grabbing punch and plates of food, then immediately going back onto the floor of the party.
She pours a cup of punch while beside her Jughead gathers a plate of food and holds it between the two of them.
After a considerable amount of time has passed, Tabitha, with her arm leaning on his shoulder, whispers to Jughead, “We are definitely the coolest people here.”
“Obviously I agree, but what makes you say that?”
She points out some of Veronica’s guests. “For one, half of these people look like they belong in a museum. The other half looks like they’d rather be anywhere else.”
Jughead glances her up and down. “What about us?”
She smirks. “We rest in the middle. Not high status, not low status. Just mid.” She steals a piece of cheese off his plate. “That makes us cool.”
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Jughead’s eyes are locked on hers, not threatening, but welcoming. And full of love.
Tabitha nods, swallowing. “If you’re thinking of just ditching then yes. I’m thinking of exactly that.”
Jughead takes her hand and ditches their snack plate, weaving through the people in the way between them and the door.
Once they finally escape and shut the door behind them, Jughead grabs her face and kisses her.
The whole evening, including this kiss, reminds Tabitha of when they had left Betty’s FBI party to go on their own date, and when she asked Jughead to start the plan to move in together.
Even though that evening had ended in travesty, she wouldn’t trade the memories of that night that flood her brain as Jughead kisses her now for anything else.
#charlie asks layla answers#layla writes#jabitha#tabitha tate#jughead jones#jabitha fic#a little long but oh well! I was on a strong roll in ideas for this one#also I was bored a lot and wrote when I had ideas and could#I wrote the end instead of working on memorizing lines for tomorrow and working on blocking so#I wanted to finish this before going to bed so happy early Halloween :)
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The best present - Harry Styles
Sequel to UPDATE
on demand, this is a fluffy little sequel to update, hope you’ll like it! tagging the people who asked for said sequel: @urdadbtch @f-vasquezp
word count: 3k
masterlist
Harry has a soft spot for surprises. Especially if he is the one planning them for a loved one. The overflowing joy he sees in one’s eyes upon receiving a carefully planned surprise just gives him a different type of satisfaction in life, one he couldn’t live without.
His life has taken a pleasant turn ever since Y/N entered it, virtually and in a real dimension. It hasn’t been the easiest with his hectic schedule and her anchored life in Spokane, but with some time paid to adjusting to the situation they managed to make it work. He wouldn’t have settled for anything else, because he just simply couldn’t imagine his life without her anymore and luckily she felt the same way.
Harry fell in love with her quicker than what it took for the weather to turn cold in the fall. It felt like the most natural thing that has ever happened to him, to fall for her whole being, everything that’s her on the inside and outside. Harry often caught himself thinking what he did in life to earn such a beautiful person in his life. He hasn’t figured that one out yet.
Y/N was like a warm summer breeze on a hot august evening, easily charmed anyone and everyone Harry introduced her to. She slowly but surely met some of the most important people in Harry’s life and he just couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that it felt like she’s been part of his life since forever even on the first meetings.
“She is wonderful, I love her,” his mother told him when they finally had the chance to meet upon a weekend they spent in New York. It was a lucky time when both his mother and Y/N were free and he took the chance to cook up a mini vacation in the city right away. Anne was thrilled to meet the woman that had her son wrapped around her fingers even before meeting.
Harry felt like he was on the top of the world when he saw the two women get along like they’ve been friends for years, it filled his heart even more.
The situation was quite the same with Gemma, in just a blink of an eye they were making plans on their own not including Harry, which hit him a little hard in the chest, but he was happy knowing they found the common ground.
“You amaze me so much,” he once told Y/N when they were spending the night at her place, one of those weekends when Harry flew all the way to Spokane just to spend less than 48 hours with her. Even with the long flights and hustle that came with the traveling he wouldn’t have done it any other way. If he could see her smile for just ten minutes he would have travelled days.
“I do?” she asked smirking up at him, putting her book aside as she rested her chin on his tattooed chest.
“Mhm,” he hummed with a quirky smile. “In so many ways.”
“Write a song about them so I can listen to it,” she told him as a joke. Little did she know that not even a week later that’s exactly what Harry did. It was another addition to the endless list of songs she inspired.
December creeped its way around the corner faster than they were expecting and in a blink of an eye every store was filled with Christmas ornaments and wrapping papers, the most iconic Christmas songs were played everywhere, making those who work at retail want to throw Michael Bublé and Mariah Carey right out the window for every having the thought of recording Christmas music.
Harry and Y/N had plans for the holidays. They agreed on spending three days from 22nd to 24th with his family and then fly to Portland to be with her family from the 25th to 27th before they head to New York City to spend the last few days left from the year together and celebrate the new year at a party Harry was invited to.
These plans were set in stone right until Harry decided to surprise his lover with the best gift he could think about. It was a tough call and took him weeks to arrange but Harry was able to get Y/N’s brother to leave for the holidays earlier, on the 21st instead of just the 26th.
“Why are we changing it again?” Y/N asks curiously as she sits on Harry’s lap when they are changing their plane tickets so they could start the holidays at her family instead of his.
“Mom is not going to be home until the 24th,” he lies and then adds: “Gemma is also gonna only arrive on the 23rd. Figured it would work better. We would be at your parents’ from the 21st to the 23rd, go to the UK from 24th to 26th and there is an early flight so we would be in Portland by the time your brother arrives.”
He had spent a long time figuring out how to manage the dates so she wouldn’t be suspicious. Seemingly, it worked, because Y/N nods as she stands up and walks over to the kitchen.
“Alright. But isn’t that too much of a hustle to go back and forth two times?”
“Not that horrible,” Harry smiles in her way, his fingers moving fast on the keyboard to make the right changes for their trips before she returns and sees that the dates are not exactly the same as he told her. Luckily, she hops onto the kitchen counter as he finishes up and closes his laptop feeling ecstatic about the surprise he has planned for her.
“It’s gonna be busy,” she points out as Harry walks over to her, placing his hands on each side of her on the counter.
“But we will be busy together,” he grins leaning closer to steal a kiss.
As the days pass by Harry is growing more and more excited about the surprise. He almost slipped a few times upon talking about the holidays, but managed to save the situation just in time. Y/N had no idea what he had in store for her.
“That’s all your stuff for our trip?” Y/N asks when Harry arrives to her place with his decent, normal sized suitcase that has his essentials for the next about seven days while they will be on the road. He glances down at his bag before walking inside and setting it down in the hallway.
“Love, I’ve learned how to pack in a smart way,” he tells her teasingly before pecking her on the lips while he takes his coat off and hangs it in the hallway.
“Yeah, but it’s an entire week. I’m going with twice this much.”
“’Cuz you are packing for New York as well. We’ll be staying in my place, remember? I don’t need stuff for that time,” he reminds her and he is right, but she is still amazed at how he managed to fit everything he needs into just one suitcase.
That night Harry lies awake with her sleeping form next to him. Looking around the room he thinks about how this is the same place he fell in love with her, but it was through just a screen. All the plants, the furniture, the bed he saw behind her in the videos are now his reality as well and in just a few short months they have grown so close to each other, he couldn’t imagine his life in a different way.
“What’s the matter?” he hears her groggy voice coming from next to him and looking to the side he sees that she is blinking at him in the dark.
“Nothing,” he shakes his head, turning to his side to face her, noses almost touching on the pillow.
“Then why aren’t you sleeping?” she asks, sneaking a hand to his back under the covers and she starts to gently stroke his skin with his fingertips, sending a shiver down his spine.
“Just… excited about the holidays,” he whispers with a shrug. He can’t tell her that he is excited to meet your family, especially your brother since he is kind of the reason you ever got the chance to meet. He feels like he is too worked up about meeting her parents and cousins, but he can’t wait to feel like he is part of her family. What he doesn’t know is that she already sees him as part of it, has been since she realized how deeply in love she is with him.
“Mmm, excited about your gifts?” she teases him with closed eyes, but her fingers are still moving on his back. Harry lets out a soft chuckle.
“Especially about those.”
He brings his arm around her frame and pulls her to his chest as they make themselves comfortable under the covers, legs tangled, her face resting on his chest as he gently strokes her arms, soothing her back into sleep.
“I love you,” he whispers thinking she has already fallen back asleep. It wasn’t the first time he has said the words to her, but tonight just feels a little different.
“Love you too,” she mumbles back pressing a kiss to his naked chest before she sighs and lets herself fall back into sleep.
Her family knew about the change in Sammy’s arrival, but Harry made them promise they won’t say a word to Y/N, keeping it as a surprise.
Her mother welcomes the two of them with warm excitement, the house already smelling amazing from all the different cookies she’s been baking, the dinner is also in the making on the stove.
“Finally here!” she hugs both of them, even though she hasn’t officially met Harry, only talked to him on the phone about Sammy’s early arrival. “Come on in!”
The two of them get rid of their winter attire before Harry turns to her mother holding out a hand to make their first meeting official.
“So nice to meet ya, I’m Harry.”
Instead of taking his hand her mother pulls him into another tight hug that he returns with a soft chuckle.
“I’m so happy you are finally here! I’ve heard so much good about you,” she tells him with a sly, knowing smile while Y/N is not looking. “I can tell you are a blessing to the family already.”
“Thank you,” he nods smiling.
Harry meets Y/N’s dad and two of her cousins who have arrived earlier and they all gather in the living room just talking at first, then soon enough they start playing board games. They get stuck on Activity, the pairs are Y/N and Harry, her mom and dad, and her two cousins. The competition is burning up the house, Harry can tell they all take the game very seriously.
Through the game Harry keeps glancing out the window, waiting for a car to park at the driveway. He has sent a car to pick Sammy up, but since he didn’t have his phone on him just yet he couldn’t let Harry know when he would be arriving exactly.
Just after he is done drawing in one of the rounds he sees the black car pull up at the house. Harry pretends to get a call and he can see the excitement grow in her parents’ eyes as they already know what this means, while Y/N is oblivious to anything that’s about to happen. Harry quietly makes his way out of the house hoping he didn’t draw her attention, and that’s when Sammy gets out of the car thanking the driver for the ride. As he turns around Harry is stunned to see how much the two of them resemble. He sees her eyes in his, their ears curl the same way and he has the exactly same hair color as her. There was no doubt the two of them were related.
“Harry, right?” he asks holding his hand out firmly that Harry takes smiling.
“Yeah. Sammy, I supposed.”
“The one and only,” he chuckles holding his bag’s strap over his shoulder.
“I would love to chat more, but I think we should move inside first,” Harry suggests and Sammy follows him up the few stairs that leads to the front door.
“Harry! Come on, we are up next!” Y/N calls out from the living room as the two guys walk inside.
She is seated on the floor, her back to the hallway so she doesn’t see when the two men walk in, grinning from ear to ear. She only notices something is happening when she sees her mother gasp happily at the sight of her son.
“What—“ she starts but turning around her words disappear as she stares up at her brother who she hasn’t seen in what feels like ages.
Harry overflows with joy when he sees how shocked she is, in the best way possible. He watches her leap to her feet and jolt right at Sammy, throwing herself into his arms as he lifts her up, twirling her around in excitement.
“Hi there, little sis,” he chuckles still holding her close as she is fighting with her tears upon the surprise she just had.
“How… What are you doing here early?” she asks in total awe as she tries to comprehend that he is truly here, in her arms.
“Ask you boyfriend,” Sammy chuckles looking in Harry’s direction. “He arranged an early leaving for me, I don’t know how, but he did,” Sammy adds letting go of his sister.
As her parents make their way to their son Y/N moves over to Harry, still in complete disbelief that he did this.
“How?” she asks, arms snaking up around his neck while his hands get a hold of her waist.
“I have… connections,” he shrugs shyly and she just shakes her head laughing before she pulls him down for the sweetest thank you kiss.
“I can’t believe you,” she sighs pecking his lips once again.
“What I can’t believe is that he could keep it a secret this long,” Sammy speaks up.
“Wait, how long have you known this?”
“A couple weeks. Got it finalized early December,” Harry admits, feeling proud that he could make this happen.
“So this is why we had to change the tickets!” she gasps in realization. “When do we have to leave for real then?”
“We are staying until the 25th, our plane leaves in the afternoon,” he smiles warmly as he sees her eyes light up. According to the original plans they would have had only two days with Sammy at home, but this way it’s almost four entire days. “This was the most I could get, Love,” Harry adds, feeling a bit guilty that they are leaving to see his family, but Y/N shakes her head.
“This is absolutely perfect. You gave me the best present,” she smiles cupping his face in her hands as she pulls him down for another kiss.
This Christmas goes down as the best one she has ever had. The time they spend with her family holds a special place in her heart, especially because she loves seeing her family and Harry get along so well. She now knows what he felt when she met his mother and sister. Seeing him be so kind to her mom and have loads of things to talk about with her dad and brother warms her in a way only Harry can make her feel.
The feeling doesn’t change when they arrive to his home. She feels like she is part of the family just as much as he is. They spend some splendid days with his extended family, enjoying the spirit of the holidays and she is almost sad when it’s time for them to leave.
“Come back soon, Sweetheart,” Anne tells her when they are saying goodbye at the airport.
“I will, if he is okay with bringing me next time,” she chuckles glancing at Harry by her side.
“Oh I sure am, Love,” he smiles kissing the top of her head.
Those couple of days they spend together in the city holds memories they will surely never forget. They finally get to spend time together without anything interrupting them, just enjoying the little moments, falling deeper in love with each passing day.
The last day arrives in a fast pace and neither of them can believe the year is ending so soon. They spend the day in bed mostly before it’s time to get ready for the party one of Harry’s friends is hosting in Manhattan.
It’s a nice way to end such a wonderful year, they mix and mingle with the guests but keep each other close, especially when they reach the last minutes of the year left. Harry takes her hand and pulls her out to the balcony to have some privacy before the countdown.
“Crazy how we are here,” he sighs as his arms are wrapped around her figure, warming her body as much as he can in the New York City winter time.
“Who would have thought?” she chuckles placing a sweet kiss to his jawline.
“Not me,” he admits laughing. “But I’m glad it’s my reality now.”
Y/N smiles up at him with gratitude in her eyes, just when the countdown starts inside.
“Have you ever had a New Year’s Eve kiss?” Harry asks as he pulls her closer, if that’s even possible.
“Sadly, I have not.”
“Then can I have the pleasure to be your first?” he smirks down at her and she just nods biting into her bottom lip.
“Three! Two! One!” the guests call out inside as the whole city erupts at the same time, fireworks go off and cheering echoes through the building, but it all fades into nothing as Harry leans down and kisses her sweetly. They spend the first couple of moments of the new year melted together until they pull back for air. The crispy winter air has turned his nose red quickly and she is lost in how adorable but handsome he still manages to look.
“Harry Styles,” she sighs feeling defeated by her own feelings. “You are one wonderful creature, you know that?” she wonders, as if she was saying her inner thoughts out loud. Harry chuckles as he presses a kiss to her forehead.
“That makes the two of us, Love.”
I’m opening a Harry taglist, let me know if you are interested in being on it!
#harry#styles#harry styles#harry styles oneshot#harry styles imagine#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fluff#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fiction#harry styles x you#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n
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Hey! I’m currently writing a Jewish character and was wondering if this would be offensive: my character has a family where her mother is Jewish but her father celebrates Christmas, so they fuse their holiday celebrations to bring their two families together for any holidays that fall in line with eachother. Would this be a problem? I’m basing her off of irl friends who’s family does this, but I want to make sure it doesn’t seem like I’m erasing her Jewish heritage and pride. Thanks so much!
Celebrating Hanukkah & Christmas in interfaith family
No problems from me other than to note that I hope you meant to say that they're both celebrated, not that they're literally "combined." Because putting Christian ritual into a Jewish holiday would bug me, as a reader, but someone watching Mom light the menorah before going out caroling with Dad would not--for example. Does that make sense? There are plenty of interfaith families out there that do both, but keeping the actual practices separate is the best way to keep the Jewish ones Jewish. (And in my example I was picturing both parents there for each activity, so it's not like I'm calling for that much separation -- just, not bringing up "the meaning of Christmas" while you're literally telling the Chanukah story.
You may also want to decide if the character themselves is drawn in one direction or the other, or neither yet. (You said "Jewish heritage and pride" so from this I gather that's how she believes? In that case, is Christmas totally just a fun secular thing for her or is it something she regards as an outsider, religiously speaking?)
--Shira
I'm going to start by saying that interfaith families exist, and have a variety of ways of expressing their combination of cultures. I'm absolutely not here to argue with that, be negative about that very real way of life, or invalidate those experiences in the slightest.
With that being said... people outside our community really, really love to show us celebrating Christmas, and Easter, and eating bacon, or doing anything else that might code us as assimilated (regardless of our internal identities). These are things that some Jewish people do, and I think it's absolutely good to show the breadth of the community, and the varied ways we express ourselves, but I do not, at all, trust someone outside the community to do that mindfully.
In wider media, whether books, television, movies etc. Jewish characters are so often shown to be either assimilated, or from an interfaith family. Interfaith does not necessarily mean assimilated of course! But the fact of their interfaith relationship is often used as a convenient way to get the Jewish character into situations that are intended to show how "not really" Jewish they are. There is an obsession with showing us as assimilated, a delight that is taken in trying to prove that we either are exactly the same as the broader culture, or that our differences can be erased and eroded until we are.
A Jewish person remains Jewish, whether they go to a Christmas party or not, whether they have shrimp at dinner or not, whether they marry a non-Jewish person or not, but the intent behind constantly showing Jewish characters doing this is suspect to me. This asker may not have this ill-intent, but frankly, it's hard to come by a character, written by a non-Jewish person, that says "I'm Jewish" in the beginning of a work, and then "oh, no thank you, I don't celebrate Christmas" in the middle, let alone even continuing to say "I'm Jewish" by the end.
When I read a work about interfaith families, and their specific traditions by a person inside the community, or coming from an interfaith background themselves, I'm interested, happy to learn about the characters, and their lives. When I read a work like that by someone outside the community it leaves me with a bitter taste in my mouth, and the feeling that even fictional versions of us are being gleefully, voyeuristically, intentionally assimilated.
-- Dierdra
1) If your character is invested in their Jewish heritage, celebrating Chanukah is not enough to show this. Please please please research our other holidays and traditions, talk to Jewish people who feel the same level of connection to their Jewish roots, consume #OwnVoices materials.
2) Agree with Dierdra that interfaith families exist and deserve representation, but that writing an assimilated character requires a lot of research and sensitivity; any blatant disregard of halacha should probably be avoided in case it is consumed in that voyeuristic way by the reader.
3) And with Christmas in particular, you can be close to touching a nerve because not all Jewish people have fond memories of Christmas, to say the least. To people of minority faiths, it can be the time when our othering is the most blatant and impactful (we’ve included some personal stories below).
It would be best to listen to many Jewish experiences of December shenanigans, from people who celebrate Christmas partially or fully, to those who are indifferent, to those who have mainly negative associations and memories.
-- Shoshi
Our personal experiences with Christmas (Jewish Mods)
Also, as a note from all of us, discussing this question brought up so many stories about our own experiences with Christmas, and the culture surrounding it. A selection of them are below, just to give an idea of what it can be like:
- Just not having lights up was enough to get our neighbor asking our then roommate if we were "you know... sorta..." When our roommate confirmed that we are indeed Jewish, he reassured him that it was "fine." It didn't feel fine to be told that though. I also had a neighbor ask what we were doing for Christmas once, and I said "oh, we do Chanukah in this house" just to keep it casual. She excitedly yelled back "JEWS!!" Even without Covid I was getting to the point where December was just a month where I tried to stay in, and avoid getting grumpy at people who are just enjoying their holiday (they just happen to be enjoying it everywhere, all the time. And sometimes kind of aggressively). God forbid you correct someone when they wish you a Merry Christmas.
- Me too, it's the marketing, it's so aggressive. Last year I got so fed up with Christmas music being on in the office that I decided to bring a dreidel and spin it casually on my desk throughout the day, just so that my own space could feel like it was somewhat reserved for my own identity, you know? On day two of this, a colleague I didn't know that well came up to me and said, "Please could you stop doing that? It's really loud." I wanted to yell "NOT AS LOUD AS YOUR MUSIC!", but I didn't, I just stopped spinning it because I'm a darn pushover at times. I had to sit through my first hand-wringing 'how will we do Christmas with Covid?' conversation in about September, even though Pesach and Eid were both during the height of lockdown in this country and no one said a thing until after the fact.
- I've had people scoff, and sniff, and make snide comments to my face in my old workplace when I politely reminded them that I don't celebrate Christmas. It can get so uncomfortable, just existing in the world, and Christmas can end up a really miserable time.
#minemelody#Chanukah#Hanukkah#Christmas#interfaith#Christianity#Jewish#Judaism#holidays#assimilation#asks
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All I Want For Christmas Is You Chapter 9 ~The Christmas Spirits~
Previously in Christmas Eve Rush
Her hand flew to her chest, and her eyes almost popped out at the realisation. "Good Lord. You're in love with her, aren't ye? It's all over your face. Oh my God!"
"Please? We dinnae have a lot of time," he whispered, almost close to tears. "Ye're the only one who can get through to Claire."
A few heartbeats passed as he held his breath.
"Fine! Let's do this!" Suddenly spurred by excitement into action, she quickly grabbed a piece of paper and pen and handed it to him. "Write down your number, and I'll update you after I've called Claire."
"Ye will?"
"Yes, yes ..." she muttered. "Come on, chop-chop!" She clapped her hands at him.
Elated with the turn of event, he didn't waste any more time and rapidly scribbled his number and pushed the piece of paper back to her. "Thank ye. I owe ye big time." When an afterthought came to him, he shoved his hand into his pocket, took out a spare key to his cottage and placed it on the table. It was meant to be for Claire. "Another favour, I have a dog and kitten in the house and ..."
"I got it." She grinned and made a shooing motion. "Now go!"
If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.
If you wish to read this from the beginning:
AO3 link
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Claire sat at the airport's cafe, every sound of someone's laughter and the sight of happy couples holding hands, driving a knife into her chest. She still had a few hours to go before its time to go through security. With a heavy heart, she miserably flipped the pages of a glossy magazine, unseeing its pages' articles and pictures. It had taken every iota of her resolve and will power to leave Broch Mordha, and now Annalise had made her book a later flight because her friend was on the way and wanted to talk. Damn her for making this more difficult! In truth, she wanted to know what Jamie had told her friend and wondered what he would have said if she'd confronted him instead of running away. Now that she was finally out of his life was he even thinking about her? Staying in Broch Mordha would have most probably increased the likelihood of her believing his excuses and running back into his arms. She just couldn't handle the emotional fallout.
"I beg your pardon, is this seat taken?" a soft feminine voice asked.
Claire briefly glanced up, offered a weak smile and motioned for the woman to sit. She wasn't in the state nor mood for small talks so she put her head down and pretended to read, hoping the woman would take a hint.
Restless, she glanced again at her phone to check the time. Annalise should be here soon. Is she planning to fly with me? I hope not! She noticed the cafe was beginning to get busy with people waiting for love ones to arrive or the check-in counter to open. Tomorrow at this time, she'd be home. The thought of spending Christmas in London in the cramped apartment made her doubly miserable. She loved the open spaces of the Highlands and quaint villages. Although the weather could be quite grim, the landscape's natural beauty and loads of fresh air more than made up for it. With its tranquil settings, it was an ideal place to start her writing career. She'd put it on hold for far too long, working for a publishing company that gave her very little satisfaction and yesterday she'd even fantasised of moving to Broch Mordha and making it a reality to be closer to Jamie. How could I have been so stupid?
"Highlands in December is romantic, isn't it?" The woman sharing her table smiled pleasantly. "I love this place. There's something magical about it, don't you agree?"
Ah, another English woman to fall for the Highland charm! She was about to give some generic answer about the Highlands' ancient history lending the romance a hint of mysticism when the harsh truth chose that moment to free itself. "Kind of deceiving though, isn't it? I got caught up in that so-called magic, but some wanker decided to exploit it and use my heart to make fertiliser. I've only known him for a couple of days, but I can't stand being in this place anymore without thinking about him and his stupid, stupid handsome face. And the way he looked at me." She blew a breath and blinked back the tears. "I guess I was just plain naive and a bloody dimwit for thinking smooth talkers only existed in big cities like London. I tell you what, they're rife everywhere and you can never be too careful."
If the woman had been surprised by Claire's outburst, it didn't show. "Now, now, I'm quite sure there is a perfect explanation. Lovely and sweet as you look, I see the wisdom that belies your age in your eyes. You don't seem like a person to be taken by someone's smooth line at all."
She let out an almost deranged laugh. "Well, obviously, I am. I took one look at a beautiful face, and all logic went south. So there," Claire huffed.
The other woman looked away and sipped her tea. She was much older than Claire thought - in her forties maybe or could be fifties, but it was hard to tell. She had a dark, sleek modern bob hairstyle that contradicted the mumsy grey slacks, woollen jumper and lack of makeup and accessories. Her face was kind though, and there was a serenity in her demeanour she found comforting and familiar.
Claire regretted her oversharing and decided to shut her mouth and continued reading.
"I met my husband many years ago here. Not far from where we are now. A place called Broch Mordha."
Claire's head shot up. "Oh! Is your husband Scottish?"
"No, he's English. We met one summer while watching a Highland game. He lived in Broch Mordha while doing some research for work, and I was on holiday. We fell in love and eventually married. And every year from thereon we celebrated our anniversary here. It's a very special place for us."
"That's very sweet," Claire remarked, trying not to think of Jamie and what could have been for them if he hadn't been a knobhead.
The woman let out a soft laugh and daintily wiped her mouth with a napkin. "Sweet isn't the description I would have used to describe the circumstance of how we met; nevertheless, it turned out my darling husband is my soul mate and marrying him had been the best decision I've ever made in my life."
"Good for you ..." Claire whispered, subtly glancing once more at the time on her phone. She hoped Annalise would be here soon because the last thing she needed right now was to hear someone else's happily forever after. But in the end, curiosity got the better of her. "So what made you change your mind about him?"
The woman sighed and took out her book. "My husband was an insensitive clod, and when he eventually saw the error of his ways and asked for forgiveness, I gave him a second chance. Forgiving him didn't change the past, and I realised in the end, if I hadn't forgiven him, my actions would have robbed me of the best years of my life. And of course, a beautiful daughter who turned out to be everything I've ever hoped for and much more." She smiled and then turned her attention to reading. Obviously, oversharing was now over.
"I see ..." Claire muttered. Well, what had she expected? A magical solution? She almost laughed out loud. No such thing!
It was too late for her and Jamie anyway. She was on her way to London, and he'd probably moved on now that she was gone. It was definitely better this way. Out of sight, out of mind.
**********
He switched off the ignition of his car and texted Annalise to inform her he'd arrived at his destination. She'd messaged him earlier letting him know Claire would be at D'Lish cafe. Scanning his vicinity, Jamie drew in a lungful of air. He'd only been in Inverness Airport's parking lot a few minutes, and already his nerves were on tenterhooks. From the congested traffic and beeping cars to stressed people madly rushing about, Jamie realised how far from his world he'd strayed, and the distance was only under an hour's drive.
He hadn't even stepped out of his car, and already he was counting the minutes till he was back within the peaceful haven of Broch Mordha. But he'd made up his mind. He wasn't going back without Claire and had taken his passport with him just in case he would have to follow her all the way to London. How he was going to manage that with his unpredictable episodes, he had no idea. He hoped he would be able to keep his panic attacks at bay long enough until he found her and convinced her to come back home.
"I'll walk in with you," Harry said quietly out of the blue as if he'd sense his trepidation. "My flight isn't till later, and my wife is probably enjoying her cuppa tea somewhere."
The tightness in his body relaxed, and Jamie nodded gratefully. Harry seemed to always understand his situation, popping out of the blue at the strangest times. Jamie had never questioned it and put it down to simply Harry being unusually perceptive and a good friend.
They quietly walked side by side towards the airport and when they entered the building, moving bodies and a sea of faces swarmed his vision. The racket and clamour of people going about their business surrounded him, and Christmas crowds trying to make it home before Christmas jostled too close, their cacophony of voices chattering excitedly.
Jamie swallowed the mounting panic and fixed his thoughts on Claire, breathing deeply in through his nose and with a heaving chest, letting it all out with a whoosh. His eyes darted and saw people smiling and nodding animatedly, laughter and children's squeals infiltrating his consciousness, their sound accompanied by an air of anticipation that told him it was a season of joy.
Jamie managed to put a grim smile on his face and concentrated on getting one foot in front of the other, apologising now and again whenever he accidentally bumped into someone, almost stumbling like an intoxicated man. Although aware of Harry's presence, perspiration coated his skin, and he could feel a bead of sweat running down his temple. The usually comfortable soft fabric of his sweatshirt chaffed and squeezed him like a clamp almost suffocating him. The chaotic din typical of an airport during the holiday season came in a huge rush of waves, at first faint, then building to a deafening sound that roared in his ears, shattering his foundation and foothold.
Oh, God, please, not now. Jamie knew it was happening. Attempting not to panic, he began to employ a technique that more often than not worked. He tried listening to his mother's singing in his head, the one that stuck most in his mind and brought him comfort when he'd been amidst a conflict in a war zone, a song that sang him to sleep when he was a wee bairn.
He stopped a few metres away from the cafe where Claire was supposed to be waiting and took a moment to draw in oxygen, clinging to his mother's singing in his head. Goodnight, you moonlight ladies. Rockabye, sweet baby, James. Deep greens and blues are the colours I choose. Won't you let me go down in my dreams? And rockabye, sweet baby, James.
He dimly recognised where he was, busy eateries, cafes and shops lined a wide area, a focal point for those waiting for love ones to arrive or passengers before heading to security that led to the departure area. Someone's child screamed nearby, and the sound of suitcases dragging on its wheels seemed to rumble and reverberate on the ground. Christmas light decorations that normally shimmered unobtrusively and gave a soft glow suddenly seemed to flash all around him, and the Christmas songs playing in the background became disembodied sounds. Jamie froze, gripped in the throes of a colossal panic attack that forced him to sink halfway to his knees.
Everything seemed to fade in and out, but it was Harry's voice he eventually clung to, his mother's singing hushing into the recesses of his head. The Englishman repeated his name and grabbed hold of his elbow, preventing him from collapsing to the floor and leading him firmly away from the moving crowd. Jamie pitched himself against the giant column and fought the crippling dread chipping away at his sanity.
He glanced around frantically, but Harry's hand grabbed his face and forced him to look straight into amber eyes.
"Breathe, Jamie. Everything is going to be alright. Just keep breathing."
"H-Harry ...I n-need to ..."
"It's alright. I know. I'm not going anywhere. Just breath."
Jamie unzipped his jacket and fought for air, sucking in a lungful. And then, again and again, gasping and coughing as he doubled over, bracing his hands on his knees. Harry's strong hand massaged his back in a circular motion, the older man's presence calm and controlled, breathing with him, encouraging to gradually take in more air.
It took a while to normalise his breathing, his heart to calm down and the cold sweat to evaporate. As he regained more control, though wobbly at first, he straightened up. Gathering his bearings, he ignored the odd looks from passersby, by now already used to it.
Harry gave him a reassuring smile. "Feeling much better?"
Jamie managed a nod as the initial feeling of shame and embarrassment took over the panic attack. Why am I even here? Claire deserved so much better than this and all his fucking issues. On top of it all, he'd managed to make her feel cheap when he was nothing but just half a man. There was no way she'd go back to Broch Mordha with him.
"Oh no, you don't. I know that look in your eyes. You've made it this far, old sport," Harry whispered fiercely, straightening his jacket. "Don't you even think of going back home without trying!"
Jamie blinked, confused. What the fuck? What does Harry know? But there was no time to ask questions, as he caught a glimpse of Claire past Harry's shoulder. She was in the cafe in the motion of getting up, her head bowed down while speaking on the phone.
Last night, he'd held Claire in his arms and now, the reality of the moment hit him hard as he saw her hand gripped the suitcase next to her, reminding him she's waiting to board a plane. He could hardly think over the furious pounding in his chest as a combination of relief at seeing her and fear of rejection surged through him. He barely registered himself, moving towards the cafe when Harry put a hand on his arm. He turned to meet his friend's eyes. "You're on your own now. For now. Remember to breathe."
Jamie swallowed hard and nodded.
"Now go and hurry."
**********
Claire panicked, her eyes darting around the cafe. Annalise had just called and confessed Jamie was on his way to talk to her. Her friend had insisted on giving Jamie a chance to explain and that he'd made a mistake.
But Claire couldn't do this. She didn't have this sort of experience nor the emotional strength to handle this kind of situation. All she knew and was aware of was how much Jamie had hurt her with his words.
She quickly stood up, said goodbye to the woman sat on her table, grabbed her bags and made her way out of the cafe. She kept her head down and tried not to look around in case Jamie spotted her. She began to walk faster, weaving through crowds of travellers as she wheeled her suitcase, images of Jamie encroaching her thoughts. A new voice was trying to make itself heard, telling her maybe she ought to listen to what Jamie had to say. But what was there to say? She'd seen what he wrote with her own eyes, and there was no explaining himself out of it.
She was just getting into the queue for the security check when a shout cut through the hubbub surrounding her.
"Sassenach!"
She stiffened, and her hand went slack around the suitcase's handle, sending its bulk toppling to the floor. It took a few heartbeats for her to turn around and face Jamie, afraid her resolve would collapse if she looked at him. When she finally saw him, he stood a few yards away, suspended in a sea of bustling chaos. Perspiration beaded his forehead, his face pale and eyes a little wild as they searched hers, snagging on the way she snatched her suitcase to an upright position and pulled it closer to her side. As always, ever since she first laid eyes on him, his unusual male beauty made her chest ache. A head taller than most, he looked out of place in the busy surroundings, his blue eyes penetrating through everything in their wake to reanimate her heart.
She waited for something to happen, but he just continued to stare at her, his body swaying a little. He looked like he was about to faint. Worry, combined with fear prickled her skin when she recalled his accounts of his PTSD condition. She'd made it this far, and now she was torn between going over to him and making her way to the security.
"What are you doing here?" she said a little harshly.
"Dinnae go in that plane.”
"It's too late for that."
Anguish fogged his handsome features. "I need ye to hear me out, Sassenach. Please."
Claire shook her head. "What is there to say, Jamie? That text you wrote, told me everything already."
"Please let me explain ..."
"I already know what you're going to say, Jamie. You're going to say you didn't mean to write that text. It's classic and cliche at the same time and utter bullshit." Claire's shoulders sagged, and she swallowed hard. "No, I'm sorry, I can't ..."
She started to step into the queue, but stopped, her heart caught in her throat when a passerby in a rush accidentally bumped into him, and he almost vaulted over. She saw how much it took out of him just to remain upright. She made a move to come to his aide, but he stopped her with a motion of his hand, telling her he would say his piece without any help. Squeezing his eyes shut, he took several deep breaths, discomfort, and distress in this busy environment evident on his face.
"You don't look well, Jamie. You should go home," she said, glancing around, aware of people looking at him.
"Damn it, Sassenach," he wheezed. "I'm gonnae make ye listen even if it kills me."
A stabbing pain went through her heart. "I can't do this, Jamie. I'm going."
"No!" He took another unsteady step forward. When Claire stayed put, relief washed over his face. "What I wrote to my sister about you was wrong ..."
Rage replaced the hurt she was feeling. "You made it sound I was just a notch on the bedpost," she snapped, angrily.
Jamie winced as a woman nearby gasped and glared at him, but they both ignored her. "No, Sassenach. You were never that ..."
"Your words winter fling said it all. What else could it mean?"
"Sometimes, what I think and what I feel doesn't translate into words ..."
"Or you don't think at all," she interrupted, tipping her head back to keep the tears from falling.
His head dropped. "No, I didnae think. What I said was inexcusable, and no explanation or apologies would take any of the hurt I caused ye back."
"It was a horrid thing to say about someone!"
His face flickered with regret and self-loathing. "It was, and I'm an arsehole for it."
"They why? Why Jamie? Is that how you talk about your conquests?"
His face paled even more. "No! You're not that at all. What we had was special, and I've never felt like this about someone before."
"You could have fooled me ..."
He took a careful step forward as if afraid she would bolt. "Sassenach, I said what I said not because that was what I thought about you and that's the truth. Partly, I text those words to get my sister off my case. She was badgering me for getting involved with ye because she was worried about me falling for someone from the city due to my condition. Another part of the reason I wrote that had to do with my fear of getting emotionally attached. I thought by labelling what we had as temporary, it would be easier to let ye go when the time comes. It was wrong ...so wrong. I wish I hadnae said it."
Claire could barely see him through the blur of tears. The awful pain she'd had in her heart all morning waned a little. She forced her feet to move, but the emotion in his voice kept her rooted in place.
"Christ, everything happened so fast between us. And I was rushing ahead before I could comprehend what was happening. When ye told me ye live in London, I was convinced that nothing could come out of this ...us ...whatever this is we have ....because I wouldnae ken how to live in yer world and it wouldnae be right to ask ye to give up yers. When I asked ye to extend yer stay, my intention was to make as many memories with ye because I needed to face the truth of my limitations. I was determined not to be that someone who held ye back and made ye regret what ye could've done. I said to mysel' whatever time ye could give me, I'd be grateful. Yet, here I am, begging ye not to get on that plane."
She wanted to go to him, take him in her arms and forget what had happened, but she needed more. She needed to know that this thing between them was more than just a handy itinerary with chemistry tossed into the mix. For her, it had always been more, but he's a man, and maybe it's just all about sex for him.
"Sorry, Jamie." Bracing her shoulders, she pulled her suitcase behind her and joined the line for security check-up.
"Wait!"
She and every person within hearing distance in the queue turned around to look at him.
This time, Jamie didn't flinch and looked at her straight in the eyes with unwavering intensity. "I cannae let ye go without giving it my best shot. I've used my condition as an excuse for far too long, yet not once did ye ever look at me as someone damaged. I dinnae want my condition to stop me anymore from going after what I want. I swear to God, ye havenae seen persistence yet, Sassenach. Ye have nae idea what it looks like until ye've seen it on me. I've fought for my life in a war zone before, and I'm doing it again now. If ye get on that bloody plane, be rest assured I will be on the next flight behind yours. I will show up in every God damned place ye go to until ye give me the time of day. And I willnae stop until I get it through yer pretty head how much ye mean to me. And if ye come back to me, I promise ye, I'm gonnae work my arse off to prove to ye every day how special ye are. Even if it means moving to London to be closer to ye. All I'm asking for is a second chance."
Looking at him, she knew he meant every word, and there was an intensity about him, that told her he would go through with his threat of following her to London. A lump stuck in Claire's throat, so huge she could barely speak. Her face crumpled, and she let the unshed tears she'd held all morning flow. Unable to stand a moment longer without feeling his arms around her, she let go of her grip on her suitcase and began to make a move towards him. Jamie fell back a few steps, both hands flying to rest on top of his head, relief and disbelief visible in every line of his body. She covered the distance separating them in three steps and flung herself into strong arms that circled around her without hesitation. Applause, cheers and whistles from passengers who had witnessed the scene erupted around them, making them both laugh through tears.
"Jesus Christ, Jamie," she stammered with a hiccup. "You really know how to cause a scene and really make it count."
A hand tunnelled through her hair, gripping her neck so he could angle her head and kiss her. "I'm so sorry, Sassenach. Oh, God, I'm so sorry," he muttered against her lips. "I was an idiot. I thought I wasnae gonnae make it."
A shudder passed through her. "I almost got on a plane and spent Christmas on my own."
Jamie fell back into the nearest seat, taking Claire with him. Obviously spent from all the emotions. "Dinnae remind me ...ever again, please. But just so ye know, I have my passport with me. I was ready to come after ye. Today."
Claire clung to him tighter. "It's Christmas, and we're together. Let's just focus on that."
"Christ, I thought I knew fear." His breath shook and fanned her skin. "That was the scariest situation I've been in."
She let out a sigh, inhaling his scent from the crook of his neck. How had she thought for one second that running away would have been a better option? She thought of the woman she spoke to earlier in the cafe and smiled.
Jamie shook her a little. "Ye're going to think this is mad, but I dinnae want to take another second for granted, so I'm just going to say it, so ye ken once and for all."
"Say what?" she whispered. Jamie tilted her face up for a slow, deep kiss, then stood, lifting her in his arms.
"I'm in love with ye, Sassenach. I ken it's too soon, but I want it out there just in case something happens and I dinnae get another chance to say it, or I do something stupid like making ye cry. Life's too short for over-analysing things and keeping something like that to myself."
She smiled through fresh tears. "I'm in love with you too, Jamie. And next time you say something stupid, I'm just going to get into a fight with you about it, instead of running away."
Jamie's laughter rumbled in his chest before his face turned serious. "Merry Christmas, Sassenach. May it be our first of many more to come."
Claire reached out and clasped his face with her hands and laid a soft kiss on his lips. Her heart broke open, and for the first time, all the pieces clicked together in a perfect puzzle, and everything made perfect sense. Because she'd learned early on you needed to take the bad with the good and embrace it all. Despite Jamie's condition and fear of uncertainty, she'd taken a gamble and trusted her guts, and by giving him a second chance, they'd ended up with the best thing of all.
Love at Christmas.
She knew it wasn't going to be smooth sailing forever. There were going to be long talks of how they ought to proceed with their relationship, compromises to be made, and probably many teething problems during their phase of getting to know each other. But as long they both keep their hearts open, they should have a fighting chance.
"Merry Christmas to you too," she whispered, her voice raspy with emotion.
"Shall we go home?" he murmured, smiling.
"Yes, let's go home."
Hand in hand they left the airport and headed back to Broch Mordha to celebrate Christmas.
Dear Readers,
Firstly, thank you for your best wishes and feedback from the previous chapter. This latest update was supposed to be published on Christmas day. Unfortunately, because I was so overly ambitious about the storyline, I was unable to deliver. I didn't want to rush it after having gone through the story in my head many times. Rushing it probably would have made me miss many of the elements I wanted to put in this story.
Anyway, I had a lovely quiet Christmas. With everything that's happening globally, it was more of a time for reflection for us instead of celebration. I am just grateful that my love ones are safe and healthy and hope you're own dearests are as well. As for this story's direction, I don't know how many chapters there are to go, but I can safely say there is another one after this. I will try to publish before New Year, and if I am unable to do so, I wish you all a New Year full of exciting possibilities, good health and lots of love. Keep the good vibes rolling and take care. X
#melodyheart#all I want for christmas is you#claire beauchamp#jamie fraser#Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser#outlanderfanfic
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#10 The roulette of feelings
Hell is empty and all the previous chapters are here: #1 #2 #3 #4 #5 #6 #7 #8 #9
After a few days in London we caught our flight to Monte Carlo. I’m not sure how long we stayed there. This mission felt like a long holiday since the very beginning.
Still on board we agreed that Bond would be the one to play poker and I would pose as his wife, or, as he has put it, “a crown jewel”. Usually I don't like being treated as such, since my experience in behaving like a damsel is close to a bare minimum, but this time I really enjoyed it. Bond was clearly pleased with his leading role in this show, and - while sitting at the poker table - he started to take chances more eagerly. He boasted about his poker skills all the time and I kept working from the shadows, observing him and our rivals, and making sure that we don’t expose ourselves too much. A win-win situation.
We were quite busy spending time at the casino, discussing the tactics, or using all the possible attractions offered by the city of Monte Carlo. The only contact I had with the outside world during the first week were my reports to MI6 which went directly to M, delivered to him by Eve Moneypenny.
One day, while Bond was on the meeting with our liaison (it's amazing the SIS has got its people... everywhere), my phone rang. I picked it up and sat on my bed, crossing my legs.
"Hi Eve. It’s nice to hear you. Did you... find out anything?"
"Not yet, Kath, but I'm working on it," she reassured me. "I just wanted to know how you're doing. You haven't been in touch for *days*. I’ve only noticed your daily reports."
"I'm more than fine, thank you. And I’m sorry for not being in touch... I have to admit I've been kinda busy, but... I won’t complain. Finally I do all those things I needed to recharge my batteries."
“I can’t believe what I hear! Does it mean I should become a double-0 if I want to feel more relaxed?” she teased me.
“You definitely should try it,” I replied, smiling. “I know it sounds crazy, but it’s absolutely true. I enjoy the high-life more than I expected... All those fancy parties, drinks, wealthy men, late-night strolls around the streets of Monte Carlo... You get used to it pretty quickly," I replied in delight. "Sometimes I forget that I am here for the purpose of work.”
“It’s great to hear that, Kath. You deserve it, especially after what happened in Geneva,” said Eve and hesitated. “And... And w-w-what about Bond...? I guess it’s him who takes you on these late-night strolls?”
I laid on the bed, putting one pillow under my head. I looked straight at the white ceiling.
“Well... We spend each night at the casino, pretending to be a husband and a wife who just want to enjoy themselves... In the mornings Bond tries to teach me how to play poker. I fail miserably every time!” I chuckled. “We share a suite. I had some concerns before, but so far he behaves."
Eve's voice went up really high.
"You mean he did give up on you?”
I tilted my head to the right, placing my cheek on one of the pillows and pressing the phone to my ear.
"He didn’t. We flirt regularly," I replied, as I scratched my forehead with my left hand. “But he’s more patient now, I reckon. And more self-confident. He knows I can’t pay much attention to the other men at the casino, cause it would blow our cover immediately. He knows I wouldn’t do that... This is what makes him... erm... powerful. And he probably thinks I will fall for him eventually,” I added, rolling my eyes. “And I’m afraid he’s right.”
“Uh, you don’t really *mean* it, do you?” she asked, concerned. “There’s no pressure... This mission won’t last forever.”
“Honestly, Eve? Sometimes I feel like it will last forever... And Bond’s presence gets more addictive every day,” I said, lying on my back again. “I used to make fun of it, but I’m afraid I can’t resist Bond much longer. I mean... Not because he’s irresistible, but because... I really start to feel something for him.”
I took a deep breath and then continued:
“It all depends on what you find. If Mallo... erm, if the man I asked you to spy on... is married, then I don’t see any reason why I shouldn’t have an affair with Bond...”
“Fair enough,” commented Eve. “At least you know what Bond wants from you. Suppose that’s something. But didn’t you admit the other day that you loved Ma...”
“It’s more complicated than you think," I interrupted. "When you spend all days in Bond’s company, it changes your perspective entirely... You’d better hurry then. I am so confused recently...” Damn, I thought. There is no need to burden Eve with all of this... I should probably change the subject. “... but you didn’t tell me anything about yourself, how was your day at the SIS? Any news?”
“Business as usual. I can’t share much detail, but it seems like Amanda’s got reassigned as she had requested.”
“Good for her. Send my love.”
“I will. And I promise to get in touch as soon as I find out anything about... *him*.”
...
The upcoming days passed so fast that I didn’t think about anything apart from what was going on in Monte Carlo. Intuitively both myself and Bond concentrated on the everyday tasks of the mission, but it turned out most of the time we just had fun, which meant our Walther and Beretta were absolutely useless.
Since the only moments I had only to myself were those just before going to bed in the evenings, I often spent them on analyzing my own feelings and, as a result, I developed a certain kind of insomnia. Or, I should rather call it “a difficulty with falling asleep”.
My thoughts were centred on Mallory. I miss him. I miss him dearly, but only when I have time to think about what he's doing in his old-fashioned office in London. When Bond is around, it’s only him who matters to me. Why is that? What the hell has happened to me? I don't know, but it's disturbing. And I get tired every time I try to sort things out in my mind... Can I really sleep with Bond if Mallory’s married? It’s not about giving up on a married man (which is an obvious decision from my point of view, as I would never break up *anyone’s* marriage), but about being honest to myself. Do I really love Mallory if I can fantasize about Bond? Or do I really feel something for Bond if my next move depends on Mallory’s marital status?
After a few evenings of such intense thinking I realized that no matter the arguments, such analysis is pointless. I could be thinking about this for a year and still didn’t come up with a right solution. I decided to wait and see how the case would resolve itself.
On the last day - it was one of those splendid days in June when you feel the most alive - we went to the casino for one more time, looking more dashing than ever. Little did we know, when we walked hand in hand into the casino - Bond wearing a black dinner jacket and me in an evening scarlet dress - that Bond would win the night’s poker game, gaining an enormous amount of money.
Late at night, around 3 A.M. I went straight to the poker table and brought Bond a dry martini (I've already had a few of them myself to relieve the boredom).
"Congratulations," I said, handing him a martini.
"Thank you," replied Bond and drank half of his glass.
I looked at him with aroused interest while he was drinking. I was never good at poker and, as much as I didn't want to, I had to admit the way he played that night impressed me.
"What do we do now?"
For a while, he observed the olives that seemed as if they were swimming inside the glass, and then gave me a quick glance.
"We pack and come back to London."
"Is that so? What about the winnings?" I asked in disbelief, expecting some kind of joke rather than a matter-of-fact response.
"I will have to transfer them to MI6. I have already contacted M, he should send me the instructions in the next few hours."
"You've already contacted M? Someone's in a hurry. Was your time here *that* bad?” I taunted him.
Bond smirked, but didn't say anything. I glanced around the room. The people started to leave the place.
"So, it means we came here broken and we leave broken, despite the win?" I asked, laughing.
"One could say that," Bond agreed. "But I can still afford a dinner and a drink. Would you join me tonight for a humble celebration?"
"With pleasure. Let's enjoy our last hours in this marvellous place,” I said, taking him by the arm.
After the dinner in one of the restaurants at the casino, we went for our last walk around the streets of Monte Carlo. Both me and Bond became unexpectedly talkative, probably because of too many drinks we had to celebrate the happy ending of the mission.
It could have been around 5 A.M when the walk started to feel too exhausting, and we went back to our shared suite.
"Would you like another?" asked Bond, pointing to the bottle of bourbon at the table, just after we locked the door to the suite.
"Yes," I replied. "The last one for tonight."
I have no idea why I agreed to this, cause I've never been drinking much or mixing alcohols in the past. After Bond handed me my glass, I let my hair down and rushed to the balcony. I need to see this amazing city just one more time before I go to sleep, I thought. I observed the skyline, waiting for Bond to join me.
"To the king and queen of Monaco," said Bond and we clinked glasses, standing next to each other.
I smiled at him and drank the whole glass with my eyes closed, but I still could tell he was staring at me.
"You know, Katherine, it's been one of my favourite missions so far."
"Really?”
"Yes... It’s the simplicity of it,” he took off his dinner jacket, thrown it on the nearest chair, and then continued. “The task I'm really good at... the fairy-tale location, no rush... and the right woman. You," he said in his deep, smooth voice and put his glass on the floor.
Then he put one of his hands on the railing and turned to me, but didn’t say a word, as if he intended to find out how close to me I would allow him to move.
“It’s an honour to hear something like that from such an experienced double-0,” I said timidly, still holding the empty glass in my hands.
Bond gazed at me for a few seconds.
"It's true, I've been a double-0 for quite a while," he said and turned his head to look at the skyline of Monte Carlo, "but rarely did I feel this close with another agent. It's strange. I’ve always tried to avoid being emotionally attached to anyone. Cause of the job's nature and all that stuff."
This time it was me who stayed quiet. I just kept listening to him, realizing how much I *love* his voice and how could I listen to him talking *forever*. It occurred to me how beautiful his magnetic blue eyes were, especially in the middle of the night. One could say the same about Bond's face which now seemed to me like the face of the most handsome man on the planet. It should be illegal to be *that* handsome, I thought.
Bond turned his head to me.
"Then I've met you... and it seems I forget about all of those rules in the blink of an eye... it seems I don't control myself anymore."
I don't know how it happened, but in the next moment I found myself in Bond's arms. I felt his embrace, so tight, as if he wanted to protect me from all of the threats of this world. The glass dropped out of my hands and probably broke up, but we didn’t hear anything apart from the sound of our pumping hearts. I placed my hands on Bond’s chest, and we began to kiss, not being able to control the lust that started to fulfil our bodies. I quickly moved my hands to his neck and then the back of his head. I caressed his hair, which felt like the most pleasant material I have ever touched.
"You're the woman of my dreams," whispered Bond, when he started to kiss my neck. In response, I tilted my head back, but continued to touch his hair.
Out of the blue Bond picked me up and headed towards the bedroom. He was in a hurry, wanting to put me on his bed as soon as possible. He took off his shirt and laid down on me, holding my waist and passionately kissing my neck.
"Oh, James," I moaned, as the touch of his lips and hands started to turn me on. “Keep going... umm... And use that nice, deep voice of yours.”
“Like this?” he asked, lowering his voice and biting my ear. “Do you like it?”
“Yes...”
Oh my, I am in heaven. If he doesn't stop, I'll melt, I thought. I let Bond kiss me a few more times, but then moved to the other side of the bed to undress. Bond watched me hungrily as I took off my dress and stockings. And there I was, lying on his bed and wearing only my sexy black lingerie. I thought that he would eat me if he could.
I encouraged Bond with a sensual gesture, touching myself where I wanted to be touched the most. He couldn’t stand watching me for long, and came closer to kiss me again. He slowly moved from my belly and breasts to my neck.
“I've been waiting for this moment since the day we've met," he murmured, while kissing my collarbone.
I closed my eyes to double the thrill and make the experience more intense. My hands moved to his back and held him tighter.
"You drive me crazy," Bond whispered into my ear.
A fast thought crossed my mind. It's true what they say in the Service... nobody does it better... he's definitely a great lay... to hell with “the revenge plot”, go for it, Kath. I was just about to take off my bra, when I heard something was vibrating. I got a text. Great timing. I opened my eyes and reluctantly sat on the bed, bending down to the bedside cabinet.
"Oh, Katherine, just ignore it," said Bond who still caressed my waist with his right hand.
"Look who’s talking," I replied. "The most professional man in the Service... There’s no need to describe this to you..."
I looked at the screen and in that exact moment my adventurous mood was gone. I felt as if my heart stopped for a short while.
Hi, just wanted to let you know that I have some evidence. He's not married anymore. Love, Eve
I quickly locked the screen to prevent Bond from seeing the message, as I felt his touch on my back. He hugged me from behind, kissing my left shoulder.
"Shall we continue?" he asked in his naughty manner.
I froze in my tracks. What about M? How can I fight for him if I sleep with another man right now? I promised myself to fight for Mallory and I have to be consistent. This was fun, but... I love Mallory, right? It's high time to stop playing games... and to finally forget about Bond. Perhaps it's a good sign I got this message before we did antyhing reckless.
I stood up with my back to Bond, still holding the phone in my hands.
"I'm sorry James... but I can't do this,” I declared as seriously as I could.
"But why?" he asked calmly, but his voice was full of disappointment and sadness. "Was it something I did?"
Oh, dear James, I thought. If you only knew how perfectly you did everything...
"No," I replied and turned to him. My voice was shaking a bit. "It was... it was a wonderful night, but I've never slept with a co-worker before... and... I've just realized it would be wrong. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for this," I blurted out and felt a tear doing down my cheek.
Bond seemed not to believe me.
"You've *just* realized it? *Just* after you've got that message," he said, pointing to my phone. "I don't know what this is about, but... we've had such a great time here, why not celebrate it tonight? It doesn’t matter at all that we work together."
I turned my head in embarrassment, trying not to look at him. He stood up and came closer to me.
"I know that you like me," Bond said and placed his hands on my arms. "You can't simply deny our chemistry. You've seen what kind of magic it can cause... you don't have to ruin it."
I took his hands off me and went to the other side of the bed to grab my clothes.
"I'm really sorry, James. It's over."
"It's over before it even started... Strange, isn’t it?"
I ignored him, as I headed toward to the door leading to my part of the suite. I must have looked miserable in my sexy black lingerie, holding my evening dress, and being on the verge of a mental breakdown.
"I don't want to hurt you *again*," I said quietly with my hand on the doorknob.
Bond shook his head.
"You will hurt me if you leave,” he said calmly, but I knew he was full of anger. His eyes told me he was suspicious of everything I’ve said.
As I knew he had the very right to be suspicious, I turned my back on him, trying to get inside my part of the suite. My hands started to shake, making it impossible to quickly open the door.
“You still think about *him*, don’t you Kath...?” Bond asked in a raised voice, with his hands on his hips. “Why do you keep deceiving yourself? He’s not cut out for it! He doesn’t see you this way... and even if something happened between us he wouldn’t care!”
But I would, James. I would, I thought, going inside my part of the suite through the door. I couldn’t bear to look at those cold blue eyes again.
I went up straight to the bathroom and locked the door. I could not think of anything else than just bursting into tears.
You're so stupid, Kath. Mallory thinks you're responsible, but you're just stupid, I thought, looking at myself in the mirror. What was that for? Bond might be a womanizer, but no one deserves to be treated like that. No one. Does he use other women? He does. But it’s none of your business, Kath. You don't offer someone the pleasure and then deny it. You just don’t...
I spend a few minutes sitting on a bathroom’s floor and crying.
But looking on the bright side... at least I got my backup story. Everyone will see something’s happened between us, but no one will ask questions. And if there is a slightest chance M cares about me, he’ll get the message.
I can’t wait for this mission to be really over. By this time tomorrow I shall be in my apartment in London. Alone.
***
To be continued.
#fanfiction#james bond fanfiction#002#007#james bond#bond james bond#m#gareth mallory#katherine mallory#eve moneypenny#casino royale quote#the spy who loved me song quote#nobody does it better
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The Couples That We Know
Technically speaking, they’re not supposed to be dating. Each other, at least.
For Killian Jones, there are plenty of reasons to like working at Pendragon Publishing. Good pay, vaguely acceptable benefits, not-that-bad coffee in the break room. But there are also some things he kind of, sort of...hates. Namely the way dating his co-worker is possibly against the rules, and how that means they can’t go to the annual holiday party. Together, at least.
So, enlisting the help of their best friends only makes sense. Pretend to date other people, avoid any hint of suspicion, and drink all the wine Pendragon’s party-planning committee can offer them. Perfect plan, really.
----
Rating: Still teen, still with some kissing Word Count: 6.1K AN: As promised, the onslaught of Christmas fic continues. This one somehow has secret dating and fake dating because I know no trope limits. Also it almost sort of follows the prompt @the-girl-in-the-band-tshirt sent in, which was "we’ve been celebrating our wedding anniversary on the wrong day for the past nine years." Attempts to follow the prompt were almost made.
Also on Ao3 if that’s your Christmas jam.
----
“You know, for this to work, you’ve got to actually stop staring at her. At least without quite so much palpable longing.” Opening his mouth, Killian has every intention of announcing how little he’s staring, but that would be a rather awful lie and it’s probably wrong to lie at Christmas. Or at least two and a half weeks before. Plus, Mary Margaret’s face makes even the thought of saying whatever he hadn’t entirely come up with impossible.
“You going to give me detention?” “I’m seriously considering it.” He sighs. Dramatically. Nearly lets his chin slump towards his chest, which would add more than a fair share of melo to that aforementioned drama, and—“You think this is a dumb idea?” Mary Margaret’s eyes widen.
Her lips practically disappear when she pushes them together that way, and Killian has to bite the side of his tongue so he doesn’t make some sort of teacher-based quip again. He really cannot afford to get sent to detention. Metaphorical, or otherwise.
“There’s no possible way for me to tell you, again, how dumb this idea is,” Mary Margaret says, and that might be the most scathing string of words he’s ever heard out of her. Telling Emma suddenly becomes something of a necessity, and that’s a problem.
The crux of their problem, really.
Eyes flitting up, Killian ignores the wholly out-of-character sound Mary Margaret lets out when his gaze darts across the room and lingers on hair that’s looking shinier than usual, as if it’s trying to distract him and overwhelm him, and both things happening simultaneously is almost too much for his brain to deal with. When he’s had two glasses of wine, already.
It’s not the best wine, actually. Killian’s not surprised. Pendragon Publishing is not especially well known for its money-spending efforts, and the annual holiday party is no different. Funded by some half-hearted party committee, that is very likely controlled by just one person, that same person does not appear to have an eye for decorating. If the copious amount of mistletoe hanging everywhere is any indication.
And the whole thing exists to drive Killian insane. Both the mistletoe, and the party. Or so he will argue. When Mary Margaret inevitably points out what a dumb idea this is, again.
She’s totally going to say it again.
“It’s going to work,” Killian mutters, but it sounds inherently unenthusiastic, and Mary Margaret’s eyes cannot widen anymore. They’ll fall out. Which will cause a scene, he imagines.
And they’re trying to avoid that.
Or, well—avoid breaking the rules, technically. They don’t want to do that. Because Pendragon might host shitty holiday parties, but it’s one of the most well-known agencies in the Tri-State area, and both Killian and Emma like their jobs. They like each other too.
Deciding to date wasn’t really part of the plan. But she makes him smile, and he considers the ability to make her consistently laugh one of his better talents, and they’re really good at kissing each other. Which is something they’ve been doing for far longer than anyone realizes. Months, actually. With post-work dinners, and weekends spent together, and Killian has started to find it harder and harder to leave her apartment in the morning, because he keeps staying at her apartment all night, and not proclaiming several rather life-altering strings of words is becoming more and more difficult.
Which brings them right back to the crux of the problem. Pendragon’s holiday party, and its presumably boxed wine, and dating other employees isn’t explicitly mentioned in the employee handbook, but it’s very likely frowned upon and showing up here together wasn’t a feasible option. No matter how much he wanted it to be.
Showing with other people, though. That made sense.
It made—sense adjacent.
“Did I tell you that you look nice?” Tilting her head, Mary Margaret’s gaze turns appraising and she wasn’t particularly pleased about having to take her ring off. It hangs on a chain that’s only occasionally fallen over the front of her dress, and David thought the whole thing was hysterical.
He sent “Mary Margaret 101” facts to Killian all week.
“You don’t have to actually woo me,” Mary Margaret counters, but there’s a bit of color on her cheeks that doesn’t have anything to do with the heat in this rented loft. It’s very warm.
“No woo’ing, just facts. Should that dress look familiar, though?” “Depends on how often you’re rummaging around the back corner of Emma’s closet.” “Not that often, but—” Mary Margaret nods before he can get the rest of the question out, smiling over the top of her glass. Filled nearly to the brim with wine that may actually be capable of eroding paint. It’s so bad. That’s probably not a metaphor for anything.
“You’ve really got to stop staring, it makes you look like a crazy person,” she adds, and to prove how capable he is of following direction Killian’s does the exact opposite. Back towards his girlfriend, and there wasn’t really a ton of planning before they dove into the deep end of this totally legitimate, absolutely will not blow up in their face plan.
Will’s arm is slung over Emma’s shoulders. “Can’t clench your jaw like that, either,” Mary Margaret mutters. Keeping the laugh out of her voice is seemingly impossible.
And rolling his whole head is juvenile, but Killian’s starting to feel a little drunk. Without any of the fun benefits. His head hurts. “Should have come up with a list.” “I could if you want.” “I do not, no.” Mary Margaret’s smile is a hint more honest, that time. It really is a nice dress. “That’s what I figured,” she says, tugging on his tie familiarly. “But you look like you’re going to challenge your own best friend to a duel.” “Swords are a requirement for that, aren’t they?” “Alexander Hamilton.” “Excuse me?” “Dueled with pistols, so—” “—Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays?” Snickering, Mary Margaret bumps her hip with his and there are at least ten unopened texts from David on Killian’s phone. Demanding update for what he was regularly referring to The Great Idiot Romance of 2020 . Although, he never mentioned that in front of Emma.
Who very likely would have won that duel, should it have occurred.
“Alright,” Mary Margaret sighs, like she hasn’t already agreed to a whole night of this, “we should probably mingle, if we’re going to make this look legit.” “Say legit again, please.” She sticks her tongue out.
“Not a very good argument, Ms. Blanchard,” he chuckles, shifting his hand to the small of her back and he supposes he should eat something. To sop up all the wine. Her expression doesn’t change. Might get more scowl-like, if anything.
And there’s likely no reason for Emma’s neck to twist the way it does, except something else vaguely melodramatic that Killian cannot think about for the next four hours, but she does and he stands up a little straighter. Presumably, at least. Mary Margaret’s reproachful tongue click is very loud.
But then Emma’s eyes are widening as well, and her lips are slightly twisted and Killian does a God awful job of winking at her.
He swears he can hear laugh — across the whole loft. Four hours at this stupid thing, max. Then he’s going to make out with his girlfriend. For possibly four hours straight. Which he imagines is a record of some sort.
“Food,” Mary Margaret declares, fingers back on his tie and she makes him eat four bacon-covered somethings before they leave the table.
To mingle. As is required by polite society and Mary Margaret Blanchard soon-to-be Nolan, and Killian quickly loses track of the number of people they smile at and the few others they nod in the general direction of, and he really should have been better prepared soon-to-be to evolve into a problem. He’s not. And Aurora’s gasp catches him off guard.
“Oh,” she cries, hands flying to her cheeks in the middle of a group of editors congregated by the floor-to-ceiling windows, and at least that’s kind of picturesque. “I didn’t know you were engaged, Killian!”
Every one of his muscles tenses. Freezes, making Killian’s ability to stay upright all the more impressive, and it’s nothing except instinct when his gaze practically flies towards Emma.
Who immediately tugs her lips behind her teeth, Will’s eyes widening to a size that would be comical in any other situation.
Mary Margaret’s jaw works — trying to find an excuse, or an explanation, but there’s not any of those things and Killian finds himself nodding again. “Yeah, yeah,” he stammers, “that’s, uh—we are totally engaged.”
“Selling it,” Mary Margaret murmurs through clenched teeth, and he considers it an exceptionally large miracle that he doesn’t point that out. She’s not doing a good job of playing her role now, either.
Aurora doesn’t notice. Another miracle. ‘Tis the season, or whatever. “So,” she presses, “have you set a date or—” Strictly speaking, biology was never one of Killian’s better school subjects, but he’s starting to wonder just how much stress the muscles in his neck can continue to cope with, and he’s all too aware of how much he’s beginning to resemble a bobblehead.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, we’re, uh—” Licking his lips doesn’t help their overall state, floundering under the expectant stare of half a dozen coworkers who are now heavily invested in a wholly fake relationship, and Mary Margaret’s hand threatens to crack several of his knuckles. When she laces her fingers through his.
“Thinking next winter,” she says, sounding more honest than anything else they’ve told these people. “City’s basically all decorated for us, already, you know?”
Aurora does know, it seems.
Her nod isn’t as erratic as Killian’s, is far more enthusiastic — complete with wide eyes that practically announce her interest, and the hammering of his heart against his ribcage makes it difficult to hear the footsteps that are moving towards them.
Will looks far too entertained.
Emma’s lips are still missing in action. “Couldn’t help but overhear,” Will drawls, and the duel is starting to sound very appealing, “sounds like congratulations are in order.” He’s going to kill him. Killian’s going to let go of Mary Margaret’s impressively tight grip, and he’s going to use both of his hands to strangle his best friend. Or at least ensure that he’s deprived of enough oxygen that he doesn’t continue talking.
He will enjoy it. Thoroughly.
Lifting her eyebrows when neither Mary Margaret nor Killian respond to this supposed stranger’s proclamation, Emma’s exhale is inappropriately loud. Rife with guilt, and an emotion Killian can’t quite name because being jealous of her best friend’s engagement to someone else is as absurd as anything they’ve done tonight, but it’s also kind of nice and— “Aurora, this is Will,” Emma introduces, and he’s actually got the gall to smirk in Killian’s direction. Before thrusting his hand forward, smiling a bit more good-naturedly at Aurora, who only looks slightly confused.
That’s fair.
All of this is flying off the rails, and Killian briefly considers how much of a scene it would cause if he barreled into the kitchen demanding better alcohol choices. It’s probably not worth it.
“Nice to meet you,” Aurora says, like an actual human. With normal, human thought processes and presumably fewer holiday-based lies to deal with. “We were just talking about Killian and Mary Margaret’s wedding.”
Blood floods his mouth, and Killian’s only slightly worried about running out of tongue to bite before the night is over. Mary Margaret’s fingers somehow tighten even more, threatening the blood flow to his entire right hand, and Emma is very interested in the state of her shoes.
“That’s absolutely what it sounded like,” Will grins, “when’s the happy day?” Glaring without making it obvious is actually difficult. Killian widens his eyes, but that only makes the width of Will’s mouth increase — like some literary cat, and Emma’s eyes keep closing for prolonged periods of time. Like at least several seconds.
“Next winter,” Killian bites out, “we’re getting married next winter.” “Decided on a location, yet? Gotta get that stuff in early from what I’ve heard.” “Have you just?”
Will nods, shoulders shifting ever so slightly. Like he’s trying very hard not to laugh. It’s not entirely working.
Maybe they should apologize to Aurora.
“Oh yeah, yeah,” Will says, “wedding industry’s cutthroat like that. Plan months in advance, and even then you might not get your first choice.” “That’s definitely true,” Aurora agrees, and maybe Killian will just topple over. Sit down on the floor and drink an entire box of wine, and he doesn’t think anyone else notices when Emma pinches the bridge of her nose. “When Phillip and I got married, we went through a couple different venues before we found one that worked with our date.” “Sounds hectic,” Killian mumbles. Talking was a mistake. His voice doesn’t even sound like his own, Emma’s gaze snapping up in unspoken warning, and he’s worried he’s using up his miracle supply. So as not to cry out at the overall force of Mary Margaret’s fingers.
All five of which were apparently blessed with mutant-type strength.
“Luckily we’ve got that covered,” she says, brightly and only a little disingenuous.
Emma blinks. “Yeah?” “Yup. Did you know you can get a permit for a Central Park wedding for like fifteen bucks?” “Wow, that’s—that sounds really nice, actually.” “Depends on whether or not it snows, but—” Mary Margaret shrugs, and none of them are lying anymore. Well, at least not quite as blatantly as five seconds before. Will’s smile almost looks legitimate.
“You’re thinking of an outdoor wedding?” Aurora asks. “In the winter?” Another shrug, hints of color rising on Mary Margaret’s cheeks. “Early December, and we probably won’t be outside for very long. Mostly just the ceremony, and some of the pictures. There’s a certain kind of romanticism to the city in December, isn’t there?” Aurora doesn’t look overly convinced. Killian barely notices — is admittedly very preoccupied with the look on Emma’s face, and how it almost feels a little wistful and maybe just as romantic and not kissing her is somehow a victory and loss all at the same time.
“You know,” Aurora says slowly, like she’s about to impart a crucial piece of information on them, “if we’re being honest, I am actually surprised this is happening.” One of Killian’s fingers flutters. Where it’s tangled with Mary Margaret’s, and Emma hasn’t blinked in years. Possibly longer. “Weddings? Or another wonderful event put on by Pendragon?”
“Bet they didn’t try and find this venue that far in advance,” Will mumbles. Emma closes her eyes. That’s like—half a blink, at least.
Aurora shakes her head, still looking far more serious than the situation requires. “No, no, no, well...you and Emma are always together at work, aren’t you?”
Breathing is a challenge.
Gritting his teeth less so, the overall tension in Killian’s jaw threatening to do permanent damage. Emma hasn’t opened her eyes yet.
“We’re friends,” he reasons, and if he were actually engaged to Mary Margaret he’d be almost offended by this whole conversation.
Lying likely robs him of any right to relationship-based offense, though.
“Oh no, no, I know,” Aurora says, without sounding entirely honest, “and I’m sure it’ll be a gorgeous wedding. Just—if we had to guess, I think most people at Pendragon would have thought it’d be the two of you.” If nothing else, this night has provided a massive insight into all the facial expressions Mary Margaret is capable of making. At least half a dozen that Killian was previously unaware of, including the current one — a mix of disgust and appropriate scandal, and Killian resists the urge to point out that he and Emma probably couldn’t date, even if they wanted to, which they are, but that’s...that’s beside the point.
Entirely. Like a different hemisphere from the point.
Aurora gives a tight-lipped smile.
“When did you and—” Will clicks his teeth, effectively redirecting the conversation. “—Phillip, was it?” Aurora hums. “Guessing you two didn’t get married in the winter, did you?” Whatever else she says gets lost in the buzz between Killian’s ears, the overall state of his heart continuing to threaten the structural integrity of his ribs, and Mary Margaret gives his hand several squeezes. To recapture his attention and whatever professionalism he’s barely clinging to, and she’d been right about romanticism.
Of which he’s clearly bordering on hopeless at this point.
Emma smiles.
And Aurora excuses herself eventually — Phillip appearing like an unknowing brunette knight in conversational-armor, all four of them nearly exhaling in tandem.
“So,” Will says, “scale of one to ten, how much did we suck at that?” “A forty-seven,” Mary Margaret replies, head lolling onto Killian’s shoulder while he finally lets out the scoff that’s been bubbling in the center of his throat.
“Next winter, huh? For real?” She makes a noise that’s presumably some sort of agreement, and Emma’s smile doesn’t waver. “Thinking about it. If Scarlet will double check with Belle about taking pictures in front of the library.” “Public property,” he replies, “don’t have to double check.” “But can we go inside at some point?” Killian asks.
“Wimping out about temperature already?” “Expressing concerns, like Aurora who is—” “—A wedding genius, apparently,” Emma mutters, and Mary Margaret’s shoulders shake. She still hasn’t touched her wine. Eventually that will prove important.
“Got a lot of opinions when it comes to other people’s plans, at least.”
“Eh,” Will argues, “did we give her much of a chance to delve into those opinions, or was Killian too busy making eyes at Emma?”
Continuing to open his mouth without actually saying any words is frustrating. For Killian. And the state of his heart, which cannot seem to find a rhythm anymore. Especially when Emma flushes, and threatens to stare a hole into the floor and of the two dresses she owns that are currently making the rounds at this party, the one she’s actually wearing is better.
Probably because she’s wearing it.
“I told you,” Mary Margaret grumbles, without any of her previous ability to chastise. She sounds almost amused.
“Although,” Will adds, “Emma’s not doing much better, so—” Huffing out a breath only serves to flutter the few strands of hair that frame either side of Emma’s face, and that’s only vaguely messing with Killian’s perception of...reality, maybe. “Ok, you do not get to point out my own,” she leans closer, like that will help the volume of her next few words, “fake relationship shortcomings.” “Why not? It’s making all of this endlessly entertaining.” “I’m a better fake date than you,” Mary Margaret says. “You had to use your own wedding plans because you can’t take your ring off.” “That is nice!” People likely don’t turn the way Killian’s brain has already convinced him they do, but every one of Emma’s teeth is visible when she grits them like that and both of their potentially-obvious fake dates look properly ashamed.
“Sorry,” Will grumbles, while Mary Margaret twists her heel and whispers, “no more wedding talk, I promise.” Emma laughs. That’s—surprising. And it’s not quite the laugh Killian’s also started claiming as his, but that feels almost possessive, and she’s definitely carrying less tension between her shoulders than he is. “I think that ship has sailed,” she says. “Should have thought about your outfit beforehand.” “Killian likes the dress,” Mary Margaret smiles.
“Yeah, well Killian likes me, so…” Tugging Emma against his side, Will lets out another noise that will only garner them more attention, and people are starting to dance. The party fund could not afford a band. Or a DJ. Or anything more than what sounds like slightly muffled speakers and someone’s Spotify premium account. Killian hopes it’s premium, at least.
Hearing ads in the middle of this instrumental Christmas music might be the last straw. For his sanity.
“Well,” Will says, “if Mary Margaret’s going to start planning weddings, then I guess I do have to step my game up. C’mon, Em—let’s show ‘em what we’ve got.”
“And what do we have, exactly?” “Impeccable rhythm, and the lingering knowledge of a Groupon dance class.” “Do people still use Groupon?” Emma challenges, and Killian loves her an absolutely ridiculous amount. For several thousand things, but at this very moment, it’s mostly how her voice causes Will’s eyes to bug again and his tongue to poke between his lips and maybe the whole night isn’t a total disaster. He should tell her he loves her.
Sooner rather than later.
“My girlfriend,” Will replies, “who will totally be able to sneak Mary Margaret and David into the New York Public Library to avoid frostbite and ensure very pretty pictures, presumably on that fancy staircase they’ve got.” “Nothing sets the tone for a winter wedding like some casual breaking and entering,” Killian says, barely containing his grunt when Mary Margaret’s foot shifts. On top of his.
Emma rolls her eyes.
They’re just playing the soundtrack to A Charlie Brown Christmas now.
“We’d appreciate whatever rules Belle could break for us,” Mary Margaret promises, “and will not mention that she’s the only person still using Groupon. Like, in the world.”
Will’s tongue is going to dry out. “Get on my fake date level, almost-Nolan.” “Shout that louder, please,” Emma groans. “And does the staircase not have a name? Fancy staircase cannot possibly be the acceptable vernacular.” “Probably not, because no one actual uses the word vernacular in actual conversation. Now you’re just trying to show off.” “Sound suspiciously like you’re impressed with my vast vocabulary, Scarlet.”
“Product of your profession.” “Grand, I think,” Killian says, fully prepared for Emma’s slightly parted lips. He will argue he’s prepared, at least. One of his knees does threaten to buckle though, and Will’s current eye-roll rate cannot possibly be healthy.
“The profession?”
“The staircase.”
“Oh. That’s pretty lame, actually. It doesn’t have like a—staircase sponsor?” “Not that I’m aware of, but the entrance hall is called Astor Hall.” “Similar to the place of the same name?” Will quips. “Or—” “—The guy from the Titanic?” Mary Margaret finishes. “Why do you know about this?”
Killian lifts one shoulder. The one not currently providing rest for Mary Margaret’s head. “I know everything, a good fake-girlfriend would know that.” “And a legitimate girlfriend would dispute that,” Emma says, “plus, the Astors own or have endowed like half of New York. This is not impressive knowledge, and don’t get Mary Margaret talking about Titanic, she’ll start waxing poetic about Leonardo DiCaprio.” “I do have a longstanding crush on Leonardo DiCaprio,” Mary Margaret admits. “If I start quoting things about a real party and point out that Kate Winslet was willing to dance, will that get you guys to move?” Will demands. “Because we’re starting to draw attention and that’s probably not going to help our quest.” “It’s a quest now?” Killian asks.
“Way more dramatic that way, so yeah.” “Please don’t start quoting Titanic at me,” Emma requests, pulling on the front of Will’s jacket and it’s a testament to their dedication to this ridiculous plan, or quest, that he wore a jacket. No matter how bad a plan it might be.
Or quest. Whatever, honestly.
“Alright,” she continues, “show off the lessons, or I’ll make fun of you for the foreseeable future.” Will winks. Not well, but possibly better than Killian is capable of, and he’s going to blame the wine. “Prepare to be absolutely wowed, m’dear.”
Rolling her eyes doesn’t do anything to shift the smile off Emma’s face, although she does look at Killian before she moves and the jealousy clouding his overall sense of being is as antiquated as the music and as absurd as anything else.
Impressive, considering their overall barometer for absurd.
“When do you think Aurora got married?” Killian asks, rolling his head towards a sympathetic-looking Mary Margaret. “Spring? June? That’s cliché, right?” “June,” she echoes. “Probably required her dozen bridesmaids to help her hand-make table favors, too. Just to really drive the point home. You want something else to drink?” “Yes, obviously.” Narrowing her eyes slightly when she nods, makes it more difficult to look at her — but that might also have something to do with the amount of alcohol Killian’s already consumed, and he really does appreciate how often Mary Margaret keeps making him eat. Even when it appears everything on this catering menu comes with bacon. “Don’t do that, ok?” he asks, at least two of their allotted four party-hours later.
She lifts her eyebrows. “Keep texting my fiancé?” “Maybe you are the worse fake date.” “Well, you’re speaking in tongues now, so—” Shrugging, Mary Margaret’s shoulder doesn’t collide with Killian’s, but he’s also starting to feel a little buzzed. And hating bacon. And possibly happiness. On principle.
Will and Emma keep dancing. Which also keeps them from having to interact with anyone else, but his buzzed-mind doesn’t care, and this whole thing was mostly his idea and that’s starting to really annoy him.
That might be his base setting at this point.
“Bacon,” Killian clarifies, “don’t allow the national obsession with bacon to affect your food decisions when you—” Footsteps move by them, curious eyes and he’s not a frog, so his blood cannot possibly run cold. Plus, it’s honestly way too warm in this room. “We,” he amends, somehow rushing over two letters, and Mary Margaret noticeably sags against his side. “What was that about this being a dumb idea?” “Ah, getting fired at Christmas-time sucks. How will you buy us all presents, then?” Laughing helps loosen the knot of emotion that’s been growing increasingly tight in Killian’s chest, and the ends of Mary Margaret’s lips quirk up when he kisses the top of her hair. “Bacon is vastly overrated, though,” she adds, “people are obsessed with it.” “It’s weird, right?” “Definitely. Should I apologize for getting you engaged against your will?” Kissing her hair again is easier than responding, because responding might force Killian to contend with a lot of life-type plans he’s only half concocted, and he really should tell Emma he loves her first. Like, more than he realized.
Until he had to pretend he didn’t.
“Nah, but you can explain it to David because I don’t want my story to get interrupted when he inevitably starts laughing.” “You wanna dance?” Smirking at her does not have the same effect it has on Emma. And that’s definitely a good thing, but Killian’s drifting towards melancholy and the music isn’t instrumental anymore. Michael Bublé is a Christmas requirement, though.
He flips his wrist.
“Sweep you off your feet, Miss Blanchard.” She’s closing in on Will for number of pointed, if not passably amused, eye rolls. Still, Mary Margaret’s hand lands in his, and Emma’s eyes definitely drift towards them — which is as bad as it is good, and Michael Bublé’s version Santa Baby might actually be the worst thing that’s happened to any of them. All night.
“Not exactly the pinnacle of music, is it?” Killian mumbles, and Mary Margaret hasn’t stepped on his foot. Or pointed out how close they linger to Will and Emma, both of whom look as unenthused by the music choices.
And maybe it’s because he keeps staring, or possibly because Will is not the asshole he likes to pretend to be, but Killian is not entirely prepared for his friend to spin his fake date closer, or mutter something about cutting in that makes Mary Margaret laugh and Emma’s jaw drop and she steps on his foot.
It’s the best thing that’s happened to him. All night.
“We are not good at this,” Emma says, but she doesn’t sound all that upset about it and the buzz between his ears lessens. Turns into something warm and hopeful, and she’s close enough that he can smell her shampoo.
“Something to be said for effort though, right?” “I’m not sure we’re making much of an effort.”
Nosing at her hair proves her point, but Killian’s—an idiot, and willing to blame romance, and the holiday season, and all the wine. So much. Even more bacon. God, he hates bacon. “Scarlet’s not subtle. And you look incredible.” “Do those sentiments go together?” “No,” Killian answers, “but true all the same.” “Flattery will get you everywhere.” Twirling her away, only to bring her back just as quickly, Killian doesn’t try very hard to avoid the smirk. So, he’s kind of a glutton too. For punishment, and poorly-timed emotions, and there’s a rather obvious glint in Emma’s eyes that leaves him breathless. Plus, she sort of slams back into his chest. “God,” she grumbles, “lacking some grace, huh?” “Eh, we’ll get there.” “Will we just?” He only realizes what he’s said when he notices the way her voice drops — rasped between lips that are redder than usual, and difficult to hear over goddamn Michael Bublé, and he’s totally staring at her lips. Obviously, he’s sure. “Yeah,” Killian nods. “Guaranteed.”
Part of him worries. Suddenly, Immediately. Overwhelming—ly. But Emma doesn’t move, and they’re more swaying than dancing now, and Mary Margaret’s footsteps are rushed. In a dramatic, everything is blowing up sort of way.
That sucks, admittedly.
“What are you—” Emma starts, but Mary Margaret just shakes her head. Yanking on Killian’s sleeve, she threatens to rip the fabric and he’s never heard her use any of those words.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she hisses.
Killian tilts his head. “Be more specific.”
“Lance Sinqua is here. Is he supposed to be here? Why didn't either of you tell me he was going to be here?”
“He works in acquisitions, I think.” “I thought you knew everything,” Emma teases, and he has to bite the other side of his tongue. To stop from kissing her.
Making out, more like. “I’ve had a lot of wine,” Killian reasons, “Should I be more concerned about why Sinqua being at his own holiday party is a problem?” Swatting at his side with both hands, Mary Margaret all but snarls. Emma looks appropriately surprised. “I know him,” Mary Margaret says, pausing between every word for emphasis. “And he has seen me.” What feels like the weight of several words and half a dozen ridiculous plans and/or quests fall into the pit of Killian’s stomach. Where they immediately crush a variety of internal organs. “Will’s distracting him now,” Mary Margaret explains, “but—he doesn’t know David personally, just that I’ve got a boyfriend—” “—Fiancé,” Emma corrects lightly, but the tone changes again and Killian’s never gone into shock before. He assumes it feels suspiciously like this.
“I do not care; at all. Just—Killian, you’ve got to come. Now. Like right now.”
Nodding hurts his neck again, but Killian’s legs move on their own and his hand finds Mary Margaret’s and thinking about the look on Emma’s face isn’t healthy. Makes him want to stand on a table, or something equally absurd. Shout several things from several different rooftops, and he wonders if she’ll have to wear a red dress for the wedding.
The real one, not whatever one he and Mary Margaret are going to lie about.
And to his credit, Will’s attempts to run distraction do look admirable. Moving hands and a nearly legitimate smile, while Lance nods in interest and continued conversation, and Killian squeezes Mary Margaret’s hand. In what he hopes is solidarity.
“Hey,” Will exhales, as soon as he sees them, “here he is.” Killian’s cheeks ache. “Present and accounted for. You must be Lance, Mary Margaret said you’re old friends.” “Ah, I don’t know about old,” Lance objects, “but certainly the rest of it. I didn’t know she’d be here, would have asked you guys for drinks before or something.”
There’s really no word for the sound Mary Margaret makes at that. Part squeak, and what sounds like an admission, but that says a lot more about Killian’s growing guilt and residual jealousy and—
“How long have you two been engaged?”
Racking his brain, Killian’s had too much to drink for this. He’s dimly aware of Mary Margaret swaying closer to him, Will’s grimace all but broadcasting how unprepared they are for that particular question, but it also seems like he’s trying to tell Killian something. He does not understand. Fuck boxed wine, quite frankly.
He opts for honesty.
Sort of.
It worked for Mary Margaret, after all.
Sort of.
“We’ve, uh—” Killian starts, “—been engaged only a couple of weeks, but...we’ve been dating since March.”
Will’s shoulders droop. His eyes turn imploring, but he can’t actually say anything and Lance is, so it absolutely does not matter. “March?” he echoes. “Your friend said it was kind of a whirlwind romance. Got together in the summer.” His mouth does more than open. His jaw drops, nearly to his ankles and shoes that he actually got polished because this party isn’t super important, but Killian wanted to look nice on his fake date and Mary Margaret’s hand is the only reason he doesn’t fall over.
“Ah,” Killian breathes, “right. That’s—yeah, that’s right.” Lance doesn’t look convinced, either. He should go talk to Aurora. Who keeps glancing at Emma, like she’s got like SONAR. Joke doesn’t even make sense. In Killian’s head.
“We’ve been celebrating a bunch of different anniversaries,” Mary Margaret cuts in, speaking so quickly it’s as if that lie jumps out of her mouth, does cartwheels and then gets a four from the Russian judge for lack of proper execution. “Y'know...romance, and everything. He’s uh—Killian must be thinking of when we met.” Lance quirks an eyebrow. He might hate Lance. He definitely hates Lance. “You’ve only known each other since March.” “Oh my God,” Will mumbles, scratching behind his ear. And really, that’s not what does it. But it’s certainly a tipping point, or a metaphorical straw, and Killian nods once before he lifts Mary Margaret’s hand to his mouth, mumbles thanks against her knuckles and marches directly towards his actual girlfriend.
Who is standing directly under the mistletoe.
It’d be more impressive if she wasn’t, honestly.
And the music doesn’t stop — although Killian can’t really hear it either, an arm finding Emma’s waist, and her hands landing flat against his chest and someone cheers. Will. It’s definitely Will. Heads turn towards them, surprise coloring more than a few of their co-workers faces, while others look...less so.
Killian doesn’t bother dwelling on that. He’s got more important things to do.
“I’m pretty ridiculously in love with you,” he says, Emma’s eyes getting brighter and her lips as distracting as ever. Several of the less-than-surprised faces aww. Audibly. Which doesn’t quite make sense, but he’s still not dwelling and—“Not admitting to dating you is driving me nuts.” “When is your lease up?” “What?” “Were those words confusing in that order?” Emma asks, infusing the question with false confidence that he can hear perfectly and she should have confidence in spades. At least when it comes to this.
Maybe if they get to keep their jobs.
“A little,” Killian concedes. “Are you—do you want me to move in with you?” “A ridiculous amount.”
“That’s admittedly not the best adjective I could have used.” “Eh, I won’t get particular with syntax.” “Stop showing off,” Will yells, “and kiss other directly on the mouth!”
There’s a general hum of agreement — even while Lance continues to look a little confused, and Aurora looks a little offended, both of which makes sense because they were fairly awful liars, and someone’s given Arthur a microphone. So the owner of Pendragon Publishing can tell them, “Literally everyone knew, you both suck at not making out in the break room.”
Heat wafts off Emma, climbs up Killian’s neck and takes root in both of his cheeks and Arthur is not done.
“It’s not encouraged. Intra-office relationships, usually way more trouble than they’re worth, but, well—all you really need to do is sign some paperwork with HR and maybe find some other corners that are less obvious.” Nodding slowly only makes it more obvious the kind of strain all of Killian’s muscles are under, but he can’t come up with a feasible response to that and Emma’s fingers curl. Into his shirt, and he imagines that makes it easier — when she yanks him forward, lips slanting over his and she doesn’t have to push up the way she normally does. Still, Killian’s fairly certain he hears one of her heels pop out of her shoes, and if this is how it feels when a heart beats its way out of a person’s chest, it’s actually fairly comfortable.
“I love you too,” Emma mumbles, against his mouth. So, the only reasonable response is to kiss her again. Several times over.
And they do fill out paperwork, eventually — the story of the fake date fiasco, as David comes to call it, perfect fodder for Emma’s maid of honor speech, and proof positive of the inherent romanticism of the city at Christmas.
#cs ff#captain swan#captain swan ff#cs fic#captain swan fic#i was not kidding about the amount of christmas fic#i've got three more prompts to write and also the blue line stuff i rewrote and a new time travel chapter tomorrow#guess who's stressed in a holiday sort of way???
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Day of the Dead
Xavier x Fem Reader
Halloween had always been Xavier’s favorite holiday, and it’s not the same without him this year. After a child in a cemetery shares some words of wisdom with you, you decide to pay your final respects at Camp Redwood.
Warnings: Angst, Grief/Mourning a Loved One, Fluff, Smut, Soft!Ghost Xavier (Let me know if you’d like me to add anything!)
Word Count: 3344
Here is the Xavier “Halloween” Oneshot! I thought it would be good to at least mention the other holiday celebrated this weekend, and who better to do that with than our favorite pastel-wearing ghost! The incorporation of the Day of the Dead into this story is meant with respect and acknowledgement to those who celebrate. ¡Feliz Día de los Muertos!
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It had been hard to believe, even with all of the news coverage and the funeral. It was all the people of LA could talk about all summer long. The beach waves hardly drowned out the murmurs of sunbathers and surfers recalling the latest articles or how they’re pretty sure they’d had an aerobics class with Montana Duke as one point. It made you sick. A man was in a coma. One of your acquaintances was in prison. People had died--your friends...your loved one.
You still couldn’t accept that Xavier was gone. When he had told you he was going to Camp Redwood to work as a counselor with his friends, you had kissed him goodbye and told him to have fun. If you had known that the only time you would see him again would be in his casket, you would have said more. You would have told him that he was the only one you wanted to spend your days and nights with. You would have told him that you loved him.
Los Angeles was a place that offered so many possibilities and so many options. The both of you had agreed to keep your options open, even as you found yourselves falling back into one another when things didn’t quite work out with said options. This summer trip with his friends would be a good chance for him to unwind and take a break from the city and maybe meet someone new. He’d invited you, of course, but he knew as well as you did that the summer job wouldn’t cover your rent, and you had a decent job in the city. Again, maybe if you had known how much you would miss seeing those frosted tips walking through your door or the sassy sway of his hips when he came to wrap his arms around you in the kitchen, you would have gone. Maybe you could have saved him if you had been there. Maybe he could have lived instead of you.
Xavier was always stronger than you. He had a smile that could light up the room and make those around him beam in return. Everyone wanted to be him or be with him. He had a confidence and charisma in the way he carried himself and treated those around him that you couldn’t help but admire. Even if his beautiful steel eyes found their way to others, they always managed to come back to you. To be fair, your own eyes often appreciated others, as did your hands and lips. Subconsciously, you always found yourself comparing the taste of another’s kiss or the feeling of their lips on yours to the pillowy soft caresses or passionate captive embraces of Xavier’s.
Halloween made it even harder. Xav had always, always loved Halloween. He’d thoroughly enjoyed the ability to find a costume and dress up and take on a character for a night. As an aspiring actor, it was good practice and something he was passionate about. It hurt you deeply to know that he could no longer take part in the things he loved the most. Without him, these things were just painful reminders of how empty your life felt now.
You didn’t bother dressing up this year. Some of the day you simply spent by his grave, placing tiny pumpkins as decorations or telling him your happiest memories from years prior.
“Do you remember a couple years ago, Xav? When we tried to carve pumpkins and forgot to get those special little serrated knives to make it easier? You tried to use a butter knife, because you were afraid you’d cut yourself with anything else. The knife was so dull it hardly cut through the damn thing and ended up pushing it off the table.” You laughed softly at the memory even as tears trickled down your cheeks. “It exploded all over the floor and we were finding seeds under things in the kitchen for weeks.”
Many Mexican families had come to the LA area in hopes of better prospects, and you watched as many of them trickled into the cemetery throughout the day with arms full of flowers and food and photographs of loved ones in celebration of Día de los Muertos. You watched, enraptured, as a family situated themselves a couple graves over from you and began decorating the tombstone in candles and flowers. Their child caught you staring and smiled. Their tiny hands placed a large loaf of bread in the center of the altar they had created before they joined you.
“You look sad.” You couldn’t help but smile softly at the child’s innocent observation.
“Yes. I miss someone very much. He meant a lot to me.” Your hand reached out to graze the top of Xavier’s tombstone. He’d had no family, or at least no family that you knew of, and his other friends had shared his fate. The child smiled at you brightly and that confused you. They seemed to notice your confusion and they tilted their head.
“You don’t need to be sad. As long as you remember them, their spirit will live on and be happy in the afterlife,” they explained. Large tears brimmed in your eyes and a tightness took hold of your throat. “If we don’t forget our loved ones, they can always come back to us.” You blinked up at them, surprised at the way their words comforted you as you sat in the damp cemetery grass. They darted back over to their family for a moment, and then returned to you with something in their hands. It was a small sugar skull. You placed it carefully at the center of Xavier’s gravemarker and admired the bright blue details of the eyes and yellow swirls around the crown of the skull. Xav would have appreciated the resemblance.
The next day, you decided to visit Camp Redwood and say your final goodbyes. Maybe it would help you get some closure or feel momentarily closer to Xavier if you saw the last place he had been alive. Seeing the wooden sign gave you goosebumps, and you stopped your car before crossing beneath it. Were you ready for this? You swallowed thickly and eased down the gas pedal to drive towards the camp.
Everything looked...so normal. It looked exactly like you would expect a summer camp to look during the fall. There were leaves and needles everywhere, and the smell of damp earth and trees filled the air. A morbid part of you was expecting something awful, something that gave away the terrible events that happened here. You got out of the car once you reached the main area of the campgrounds where you could see the cabins. It was getting hard to breathe.
Several minutes passed before you mustered up the courage to actually open the door and get out. There was a strange silence in the air that even the birds didn’t want to break. It was still and peaceful, and it made the hair at the base of your neck stand up. Upon reaching one of the picnic tables, you pulled a small framed photo of Xavier from your purse. You propped it up and smiled softly at the goofy grin on his face. He’d gone for headshots not long before his trip to the camp, and you remembered him telling you how hard it was for him not to smile. The photographer had liked the picture so much that they had printed it anyway. You loved the look of excitement on his handsomely sculpted face. There was a small tea candle in your purse that you placed with the picture and watched the flame dance on the glass of the frame.
“I’m so sorry, Xavier. I miss you so much.” You crossed your arms on the top of the picnic table and rested your head on them as you wept. “I should have been here with you. Or at least told you what you meant to me.” You sniffled and choked a quiet sob. You’d never said the words out loud, and they lodged painfully in your throat when you tried to express them to the empty air. “I love you, Xavier.” But it was too little too late.
“You...love me?’ a voice asked quietly behind you. Your head instantly shot up from your arms. You were hearing things. Slowly, you turned around, and your mouth dropped open at the man standing there. You were on your feet instantly, nearly tripping over the bench of the table to do so, and you took a step towards him.
“Xavier? But you...you died. I was at your funeral… How..?” The shock had your heart hammering in your chest, and you found it hard to catch your breath. A sad smile crossed the plump lips that you had missed so much, and he shrugged as if what he said was the most casual thing in the world.
“Yeah. I’m dead, babe. I know.” Slow steps brought him to you as if he were approaching an injured animal preparing to bolt into the wilderness. “But did you mean what you said? That you love me?” Your mouth opened and closed without knowing exactly how to respond. What was happening?! His hand came up to stroke your cheek, and a shuddering breath pulled from your lungs at the familiar warmth. It felt so real. You instantly covered his hand with your own as more tears streaked your cheeks. “Please. Say it again.”
“I love you, Xavier.” In that moment, you didn’t care how it had happened or what was happening. This was your Xavier and you had a second chance. You were not going to let it slip away. “I love you so much.” Both of your hands reached up and cupped his face, your thumbs stroking his high cheekbones, and he did the same to you. His eyes were brimming with unshed tears at your words, and his body tensed like a spring prepared to snap.
“I love you, too.” Xavier leaned in and captured your lips desperately in his. You didn’t want to breathe for fear of having to break the kiss. You were afraid that if you opened your eyes there would be only air in front of you again. Thankfully, that wasn’t the case. Xavier was there, perfect tears trailing straight down his cheeks. Your thumb brushed them away as you stared at him in both joy and disbelief. Of course you wanted to ask how it was possible, but questions could come later.
Xavier grabbed your hand and led you quickly to one of the cabins that still contained fully dressed beds. In a few short moments, they were the only things dressed in the room. Xavier pulled your shirt off with frantic movements as if he was afraid you would disappear. Once your skin was exposed, however, he immediately slowed. He dropped feathery kisses over your chest and stomach, paying careful attention to your bare breasts before journeying downward. You clutched at his shirt and tugged it over his head so your hands could trace the smooth planes of his muscled back and upper shoulders. Your head tipped back as he ran his tongue from your navel to the waistband of your pants.
“Please, Xav,” you moaned, one hand sliding into his perfectly sculpted hair. His wide, baby blue eyes gazed up at you with pupils blown wide by desire. You knew your eyes must have looked the same. Your breath hitched when he slowly rolled down the tops of your pants, taking your panties with them, and he placed sweet kisses down the entire length of your leg. Occasionally, he flicked his tongue across the skin before moving further down. He removed your shoes and socks so he could follow with the rest of your clothes, repeating the trail with his lips as he had on the precious leg. “Xavier…”
“I know, baby. Don’t worry--I’m going to take care of you.” Xavier stood up again to press another kiss to your lips. You followed when he attempted to pull back, not entirely ready for it to end. He chuckled against your lips and teased his tongue along your cupid’s bow. You were all too happy to allow him entry, and you groaned when you could finally taste him on your tongue again. He walked you back to one of the beds until you were forced to sit on the end. He kissed his way back up from your ankles to your lips, and you quivered beneath him.
Xavier was already throbbing in his shorts, and he tipped his head back with a groan when you began to palm him. His breath ghosted over your cheek as he looked down at you, seeming to take in every feature of your face.
“You are so beautiful, and I am such a fucking idiot for not making you mine every single day.” He dove in for another kiss that drew a whimper from your throat.
“I’ve always been yours. Always have and always will.” The tender exchange left you both eager to prove yourself to the other, and your fingers hooked into his shorts to help shuck them off. The tip of his cock immediately pressed to your entrance, but Xavier held back to make sure you were ready. A few lazy rolls of his hips coated his length in your wetness and assured him that you needed no further preparation. Neither of you would last long at this rate.
The unified groan reached every corner of the cabin as Xavier sank into you, his head dropping to your chest. You stroked his hair, one hand tracing shapes over his back, and whispered loving words while he panted against your skin. If only you could have stayed like this forever. This was how it was meant to be. He began moving with languid thrusts, savoring the feel of your tight heat clenching around him with each re-entry. Xavier curved his body over your own to seek as much skin-to-skin contact as possible.
“I’ve missed you so much. You feel so fucking good,” he panted and steadily began to increase his pace. Your legs dangled over his hips, and you ran your feet lovingly along his calves while sucking his earlobe between your teeth. He cried out softly, thrusting sharply into you in surprise, and you reciprocated his pleasured shout. The old wooden bed creaked beneath you with each thrust Xavier made deeper into you. The gentle touches of his hands along your sides and the worshipping kisses he left on the arms around his neck made you quiver around him. You were so close. The pace increased when you voiced your impending climax to your lover. His forehead was slick with sweat, and you could tell he was holding back.
“I’m so close, Xav. Come with me, please,” you begged, arching your back off the bed to feel his cock push farther into your warmth. He moaned loudly through his teeth, twitching inside of you from the words you spoke and the physical signs of you clenching around him sporadically. You moaned his name over and over, kissing the sensitive spot on his neck just below the cross earring he always wore. His hips rocked into yours and you angled your hips to meet his thrusts each time. A few more well-timed thrusts into your g-spot had you careening over the edge of a blissful orgasm. The clutching of your core around him as Xavier chased his own end left him shouting out his pleasure in the form of your name, and his warm seed quickly filled you.
“I love you…”
“I love you, too.”
The two of you remained that way for several minutes, too sated to want to move or lose the contact with each other. Eventually, you ended up laying on your sides to face each other. Your fingers danced along his toned arms, and he drew shapes and patterns over your hip as he held you close. Xavier explained everything to you, or as much as he could at least. You still didn’t quite understand it. All you knew was that you had been able to see the man you loved one more time and be in his arms.
“You’ll have to go soon,” he sighed. You frowned and cupped his cheek.
“What do you mean? Why?”
“We aren’t the only ones here--Me, Montana, and the guys. There are others, and I can’t let them hurt you.”
“I don’t care, Xavier. I want to be with you.” He quickly shook his head and held your wrist to remove your hand from his cheek. You could see the pain on his beautiful face in the way he squeezed his eyes shut.
“No. No, I won’t let you die. Not here, and not because of me.”
It seemed that time was passing all quickly, the sun beginning to set through the tall redwoods the camp was named for. Xavier hadn’t stopped touching you the entire time, with one exception, and you were grateful for it. The only time his hands weren’t on you was when he jogged over to the table to grab his picture and handed it back for you “to remember him by”. You stopped beside your car and he cupped your face in his large hands.
“Promise me you won’t come back here.” The whisper made you shiver. You searched his eyes and tried to fight the burning in your sinuses. This truly was your final goodbye. His throat bobbed as he swallowed down his own emotions. You nodded reluctantly, and the relief from Xavier is palpable. His hold on you loosened slightly until he brought you in for one more kiss. It lasted longer than the others, your hands slipping into his hair and his thumbs removing the tears from your cheeks once more, and you take in everything he is in that moment. The warmth of his hands on you, around you, the pressure and gentle massaging motions of his lips on yours, the scent of his cologne and hair gel. Everything you would never have again and never be able to forget.
You were driving down the road before you knew it, and you stopped just outside Camp Redwood grounds. Xavier was standing just inside the sign when you leaned out the window to look back. It took everything you had to simply blow him a kiss and continue down the road towards the highway. Your only consolation was that the last words the two of you spoke to each other were the three words you had always wished you could say.
Static came over the radio between one of the valleys, and you slammed your palm against the piece of junk. Between the mix of untuned stations and noise, you barely made out a few words:
“A child born of human and spirit will usher in the end of times.”
You groaned at the usual AM station interference and decided to turn it off until you got closer to the city. There was no room in your mind for music right now anyway. All thoughts were of Xavier and hours you had spent together. Had what the children in the cemetery said been true? Was it your remembrance of Xavier part of the reason he remained here? He seemed trapped, and that was not what you wanted, but you knew you would never be able to forget him.
At the end of July 1985, you gave birth to a beautiful blond child. He has his father’s gemstone eyes that sparkled with wonder and mischief. The angelic curls atop his head were what you knew Xavier’s looked like when eased up on the blow-dryer and products. Now there would always be a part of your lost love with you. You named the child Michael, and you loved him more than life itself.
You could not have been happier. The Day of the Dead had left you with a new reason for living.
#xavier plympton#xavier plympton fanfiction#xavier x reader#xavier plympton x reader#ahs 1984#Happy Halloween Xavier Plympton#Man this was bittersweet to write#my oneshots
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Halloween in Cradle!
Let’s imagine Halloween is a holiday that was introduced in Cradle by the first Alice and the people decide to let celebrations coincide with the harvest festivals like the “Land of Reason” does. How would "Alice” spend it with the boys?
(first time doing an IkeRev thing! some characters’ stuff will be shorter since I don’t know much about them yet! Put in a Read More since it’s LONG lol)
Lancelot:
It’s become a tradition that the rich and elite of Cradle attend an evening Halloween masquerade ball. The ball is only lit by candlelight and everyone dresses in black for an added spooky elegance. Red wine is served and haunting, but elegant music is played for dancing
Lancelot, of course, attends and invites you to be his partner. It’s the first and only time you’ll see him in black (you know, being that he’s the King of the Red Army) and he looks absolutely regal in his black suit, cloak and full mask with gold trim.
As the two of you dance and enjoy the evening, he explains the traditions of this party. It seems that the Central Quarter’s ballroom is, in fact, haunted by the ghost of a woman in white. She died a tragic death on Halloween night; people found her amidst the dancing, sprawled at the foot of the grand staircase, swathed in her pure white dress. As such, everyone who attends dresses in black to be sure that they can spot her before someone is “spirited away.” Red wine is served because it was her favorite drink and her favorite music is played to let her know she is welcome.
As he tells you this and the two of you continue to spin around, you think you catch a glimpse of white out of the corner of your eye. Lancelot squeezes your hand at the look of apprehension in your eyes and smiles at you, pulling you closer.
“Don’t worry,” he whispers. “I’ll make sure no ghost spirits you away tonight.”
Ray:
Halloween for Ray is busy just like any other day, but he’s always willing to help decorate the barracks to make them spooky!
Both armies like to have fun with the public and open parts of the barracks up for visitors for a fun spooky evening with games and fun haunts.
Insists on plenty of black cats everywhere.
Black cats are not bad luck. They’re good luck and ensure that Halloween will be fun and safe! (that’s the legend he’s determined to spread). Is not ashamed to wear black cat ears for the night either lol
He’s the head of security for the autumn and Halloween festivals that happen in the neutral Central quarter’s town square and the two of you walk around together having fun as he oversees the safety of everyone.
After the fun is over and the night is winding down, he’s happy to cuddle with you by the fire with a cup of warm apple cider - most likely with a black cat or two snuggled on your laps.
Jonah:
Not much of a Halloween person, tbh thinks it’s too childish
thinks the sweets are too much of Edgar’s type, not his own
the morning of, however, he invites you to a nearby café for brunch to show what delicious autumn delicacies they have
is happy to tell you about the different things he and Luka would get up to on Halloween when they were kids.
the two of you laugh over the stories he tells when he “defended” little Luka from a person dressed up in a ghost costume when they went guising as kids. Won’t admit that he ever got scared, (though he did)
Sirius:
This time of year is one of his favorites, because it means lots of autumnal baked goods that he can make!
Pumpkin pies, pumpkin cake rolls, pumpkin doughnuts, apple pies, apple crisp, pumpkin apple crisp! You name it, he’ll bake it.
It’s his baked goods that are always around for any harvest or Halloween festival
While he’s cool with Halloween, he does prefer the harvest aspect of he month more, mainly because he likes autumn decorations
Will invite you to help carve pumpkins with him. Or rake leaves. He’s actually quite good at carving and makes some fantastic faces and designs! And expect some fun leaf shenanigans with Chutney involved too
the two of you like take a walk together on the nearby trails to admire the beautiful autumn colors before the harvest dinner.
Edgar:
To your surprise, he quite likes Halloween
Mainly because he gets to scare and prank people and no one can judge him for it this time. Also CANDY
You can bet this guy has TONS of candy everywhere
Is ready to go out guising like all the kids do for the candy, even though Jonah keeps berating him for being too old
“You don’t even have a costume!!!” “I do so have a costume. I’m going as a Red Army soldier.”
Can also carve pumpkins quite well. makes some scary faces on them
Since he’s forbidden to go guising, takes the next best thing, which is to take you around the Halloween festival in search of treats to buy and win
Is a pro at all the games. Takes GREAT pleasure in the dunking booth, and is a great shot at it
“Here, Alice. I won this special candy just for you. Don’t eat it just yet. Let’s wait till we’re alone. Then we can share them, together~”
Luka:
Like his brother, is just meh about Halloween
But he enjoys the harvest festivals
Invites Alice to join him in going to one that’s on a farm just outside of the city. Together the two of you have a blast! Going on hayrides, looking at the different pumpkins in the pumpkin patch - and picking some out for later Halloween decorations - as well as picking out the juiciest apples for later baking and sampling some delicious apple cider
You pick out matching scarves with him at the farm’s shop that sells hand-knitted clothing perfect for fall days like this one and wear them for the rest of the day
You can be sure that harvest time means some delicious food made by Luka, as he gets along with the farmers who offer him their best produce
The nights are colder, so he makes sure he warms up a cup of tea for you before you both snuggle down together for bed.
“Going to the farm with you was so much fun. Let’s make it a tradition to go together every year!”
Kyle:
This time of year, our boy is on the lookout for colds. He’s prepared for visitors coming far and wide seeking treatments for them and has his office well stocked with medicine and herbs to help treat coughs and sore throats
He can get into the Halloween spirit too and decorates his office with a sort of “mad doctor” vibe to it. hOw OrIginAL
You can be sure he offers every kid that comes to him a Halloween treat when they leave his office (he’s a doctor, not a dentist lol)
basically Halloween is a chill day for him with just a flavor of spookiness.
likes to chill at Dalim’s bar in the evening for a quieter Halloween night
Fenrir:
This boy does NOT do Halloween!!
He’ll do anything to avoid celebrating it. Too busy with work! Gotta train! Has guard duty at the barracks! He has DESK WORK to take care of!
The other officers admittedly like to prank him this time of year because of it and it never fails to work
He’s touched when your make him his favorite meal to comfort him after a prank got him good
he tells you that his dislike of the holiday and his fear of ghosts both started when he was kid. his family threw a big Halloween party one night and late in the evening, when everyone was sitting together telling ghost stories, there was a banging in one of the rooms upstairs and the fire went out suddenly, leaving them all in the dark. People said it was a ghost coming to visit them. for a boy of only six, he said that night stuck with him for years and he still remembers how scared he was.
you’re touched by this rare moment of vulnerability from him and promise that from now on, each year, you’ll have your own “un-Halloween” celebration together
Zero:
He likes the idea of guising but knows he’s too old for it
Instead, he enjoys participating in the Central Quarter’s Halloween festival
He helps the local candy maker in his booth and the two of them make candy for people to buy during the festival
is not above dressing to get in the spirit of the night
Makes you your own special candy when you visit him in the booth
you share a candy apple together when he gets time off and can walk around the festival with you
Seth:
Ultimate Halloween prankster of the Black Army.
Has been the chief scarer of Fenrir but never goes too overboard -just enough
Halloween is in part about dressing up in costume, so you can be sure he’ll want to dress Alice up in every princess, witch or vampiress costume he can get his hands on
matching costumes is a win-win situation for him. his favorite is vampire and vampire bride. will get into character for it too
“careful Alice, I just might bite that pretty neck of yours if you keep acting so adorably~”
Loki:
Will 100% want to go guising with you
dresses up in a black hoodie with cat ears. “Look! I’m a black cat!”
the two of you hop around the villages together, you in a white sheet as a ghost, and him as a black cat, carrying sacks to get candy
back at the house, the two of you will sort out your booty together and trade treats, offering some to Harr if he wants any.
the night will end with bobbing for apples, some spooky games and tales and Harr admonishing you both not to eat too much candy before bed
you both may or may not decide to play a fun, innocent prank on Harr later on in the night
Harr:
For Halloween, you and Harr decide to take it easy. Maybe eat a big dinner with some celebratory cake and play some games together at the house
but then Loki comes up with a daring idea: late night exploring in the Old Ruins that lie deep in the Forbidden Forest
the idea is kinda scary, but also thrilling! Plus, Loki reasons, they’ll be with Harr, so there won’t be any danger
Harr (secretly pleased that he’s trusted so much) finally agrees.
The Old Ruins are rumored to be haunted, Loki says, as the three of you creep in. The door makes a painfully loud creaking noise as he tugs it open
Armed with a lamp fueled by magic crystals, Harr leads the way in as the other two huddle around him. the building is dark, decrepit, and quite dangerous in some places as the walls and upper floors are caving in.
“We shouldn’t stay here too long,” Harr warns, worried about the instability of the place. A sound is heard in a nearby room adjacent to the foyer.
“Let’s check it out!” Loki suggests and he heads in the direction of the noise.
You don’t find anything but continue to hear noises, noises that seem to be coming from the upper floors...
After a while of exploring, Harr suddenly decides to put his foot down. “Let’s go. Now.” He tells you.
You both don’t argue against the tone in his voice and head back to the house, Loki excitedly talking about their adventure. As he does, Harr takes your hand and holds it tightly.
“I’m sorry we had to leave so suddenly, but while you both were looking around, I saw someone watching us from above on the third floor. The last thing I ever want is putting you in harm’s way. Stay with me tonight so I know you’re safe.”
Blanc:
He can remember when the first Alice introduced Halloween to Cradle. In fact, he helped in forming the traditions of the holiday to what they are today.
He organizes and is in charge of the Halloween festival alongside with Dean. He also likes to host a costume party in the Garden, free for anyone who wants to attend
He dresses up as a white rabbit knight hOW OrIginAL
Cliched costume aside, he looks cute so it’s all good
You are his special guest and he ensures that your first dance of the night is with him
Oliver:
His favorite part about this holiday is the costumes
He makes lots of costumes and items for kids who want a super cool look for Halloween
in his kid form, he reluctantly agrees to an early afternoon of guising with you, but insists on wearing a mask he made for himself so no one knows it’s him
don’t be surprised if he pulls some pranks on you throughout the day to get back at you for making him do that in his kid form
never goes to Blanc’s costume party. prefers to join Kyle at Dalim’s bar instead for a more laid back celebration
Dean:
Teams up with Blanc in organizing the Halloween festival
Is a huge folklorist and can tell you all sorts of weird and creepy stories about Cradle’s history
owns a whole library about it, actually
being a teacher, he does fun things throughout the day for his students to get them in the Halloween spirit
his students put on a play for the Halloween festival that is usually about some Cradle folklore
He’s a good storyteller, so be prepared with a blanket and some hot cocoa when you both sit by a fire and share ghost stories
Dalim/Dum:
Halloween or not, the bar’s gonna be running. Doesn’t mean he can’t get in the spirit of things, though
decorates the place with candles and fog and all
keeps things quiet for those who want a calmer holiday
concocts special drinks for the occasion. Kyle’s favorite is the White Lady, based on the ghost that haunts Central Quarter’s ballroom
Will keep visitors entertained with weird and creepy stories that he’s heard from customers over the years
Mousse:
Halloween is just another day for him
Candy is whatever. He’d rather be given cheese. Prefers harvest festivals since there is cheese in abundance.
has to attend the different public gatherings as a Cradle official
ghosts don’t scare him. doesn’t believe any of the legends to be true
likes to drink warm cider and will fall asleep in front of the fire if he’s at a party
#ikerev#ikemen revolution#ikemen kakumei#halloween headcanons!#ikerev lancelot#ikerev kyle#ikerev ray#ikerev sirius#ikerev loki#ikerev luka#ikerev seth#ikerev mousse#ikerev dean#ikerev dalim#ikerev dum#ikerev fenrir#ikerev jonah#ikerev blanc#ikerev oliver#ikerev harr#ikerev zero#ikerev edgar#writings#writing
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I was lookin' back to see if she was lookin' back...
Yesterday Alex, Mum and I celebrated...
It's been one year since Alex and I arrived at Mum's place in Ocean Shores, NSW Australia.
If you've read my earlier blogs in 2020, you'll know that we had a lot of trouble getting home. Between the government and airlines, at one point it looked like we'd never get here; we were stranded. I was living in constant worry, stress and hopelessness - in fact, we all were: Alex's family in Germany and Mum's family down under.
Our July 2020 flights were cancelled or rescheduled many times, and eventually we decided to buy new, more expensive flights, on another airline through an agency, which gave us some assurances we'd be on the flight. Our new flights booked and confirmed for early September.
We flew Frankfurt to Adelaide, which was not our original plan. Adelaide had no COVID, and the chance of getting on a flight and getting into the country was higher than say, Brisbane, or Sydney. We could quarantine in Adelaide for 2 weeks and then fly on to Brisbane, which is closer to Ocean Shores.
That was like.... so last year...
This area where we now live is known as the Northern Rivers of New South Wales, and when we arrived at Mum's there was no COVID in the area. We are only about 35 minutes south of the Queensland border, about 8 hours north of the big smoke, Sydney.
Now, a year on, COVID has arrived here.
It's been biting at the heals of tourists and essential workers travelling north since Sydney went into lockdown a couple of months ago.
It's not our idea of a good time.
Right now it's school holidays, which is meant to be 2 weeks of families holidaying in caravan parks and hotels, an essential part of this tourist attraction mecca. Byron Bay, Brunswick Heads, and surrounds are usually very popular places; so popular that most locals complain about how busy it gets here during the holidays. You just can't get a parking sport anywhere!
The Northern Rivers was locked down for about 6 weeks through August into September because cases from Sydney were getting into regional NSW. These regional areas affected by COVID weren't near here, but they made a blanket rule for everywhere outside of Sydney, just to be on the safe side.
Honestly, I don't blame them for the rule, regional outback Australia can't cope with COVID, there's few hospitals, beds, or COVID experience in the scrub and farm land.
Anyhow, I digress...
After those 6 weeks or so in lockdown, they lifted the restrictions here in the northern rivers (and other areas of NSW).
And now, after 2 weeks, lockdown is back on...
There are a couple of cases in the area. Snap lockdowns are the government's preferred method of containing outbreaks. Lockdown areas wherever cases pop up for a week or two (or longer) to limit exposure.
It reminds me constantly that life can change quickly at any time. I have decided I will not waste time once this current lockdown has ended (who knows when that will be). I will visit friends, family, and musicians who live close by. I want to see as many folks as quickly as possible, before another lockdown kicks in.
Besides the boring, never ending tale of COVID, there have been a few things happening this past year...
Alex has been working consistently in the real estate industry since her temporary visa kicked in late last year.
Her first job was a few more miles away than any of us locals would consider driving, and the position wasn't as enjoyable or rewarding as she had first hoped. She really dived in the deep end, and while she didn't drown, she probably needed a few swimming lessons before the attempt. It was a life lesson, one she took on board, and when a new job came up closer to home, she nailed the interview (as she always does), and hasn't looked back.
The 2nd job is less than half the distance away, strictly 9 to 5 and in a company which she enjoys. There's a strong company structure, good work ethic, and entertaining colleagues. Her supervisors, colleagues, and managers are all very supportive; I think she'll be sitting tight on this one for a while.
Alex has also found her creative side again, scrap book journalling, instant camera photography, and some kind of couples diary/journal/photo book too. It's become an almost nightly affair of focusing, creating, and having something to show for it fairly quickly. She's very proud of her work, and it's something she does just for herself. I don't expect you'll get a chance to see a photo of what she's done, and she likes it like that.
I had a bit of work late in 2020 and early 2021, nothing special really, but wait until the premier!! It's interesting to think that some day soon I'll be able to go to the cinema and see my ugly mug on the big screen (even if it will most likely be out of focus). I'll be on Netflix too.
Having the opportunity to be an extra on film and TV was a real boost for my confidence after being off stage for so long. I felt creative, met some great people, made some friends, and had a few bucks in my pocket. Happy days.
By jumping into an industry I hadn't been in before right after arriving here, it reminded me that Australia has a lot to offer. I found myself comparing Germany and Australia, and Australia often feels like it comes up short. This was a chance to prove to myself that there are adventures awaiting here down under.
So, I decided to go back to school.
The last time I was in a class room was in 1998!! I am studying a Diploma of Counselling, and am currently half way through my studies. I've found it very challenging, but have passed every assessment so far, and gained some handy skills too. I have a good connection with my teachers, and I really enjoy the company of my classmates; some of which I can even call friends.
I chose counselling for a few reasons, but the first step was really just a process of elimination. Besides being a freelance professional musician for several years in Germany, I had worked in offices, shops, warehouses, kindergartens and various other jobs. While I could go back into IT or something similar, I wanted to use this opportunity to try something new.
I had my fair share of mental health issues in the past (and present). I thought maybe those experiences could help me connect with folks who need support as well. When looking at course options, the counselling course stood out. So now I'm making a mid life crisis gamble that I'll pass the course, and feel confident and knowledgeable enough to take on the role that many others have taken on for me over the years.
The course has helped me find a routine too, one that I didn't know I needed, until it happened. When you're jobless and unfocused, the mind wanders, the days pass. Now my mind is focused on study, and I feel better for it.
Up until the lockdown hit, we were in class 3 days a week and then I'd study from home 1 to 3 days a week. When lockdown hit, we had to go online. However, being on the computer so much has worn me out, and I really start to enjoy those rare days where I am not looking at a screen!
To be honest, it's been challenging every step of the way, and I even thought about quitting several times in the past few months. However, my confidence has steadily risen to each challenge and I felt better for it.
That's the kind of vicious circle I enjoy.
In July I had my first live show in 13 months! In fact, to date I've only had 3 since the pandemic started! Fingers crossed I can cross the border next month and add a 4th.
I was approached by Cherry Divine to play guitar for her. It's a relatively easy gig for me. The songs are fun rockabilly tunes, Cherry sings great, and she already has a band and gigs. I'm helping her write a few songs too, for her next album. I can't thank her enough for sparkin' the fire in me to keep music alive in my life; for a while there I thought it was all a thing of the past.
With the spark has come the possibility of “The Josh” solo band coming together. While the band isn't moving at any great speed (the recent 2nd lockdown kicked in right as I was about to arrange a rehearsal), I'm finally eager to get a band together. I miss playing live, and I miss having musicians in my life. I miss the spontaneity of a show, life on the road, and crowd reactions.
I've even started to write some new material, and get those ideas on “tape”, well, on the computer. Slow and steady, between studying, family, pets and surfing, music is coming back into my life, and it feels good.
Our family unit here is doing well. Alex and I have been under mum's roof and mum's care for a year now. There are some ups and downs, but mostly I'd say they're ups... The house is big enough to give all of us space, all of us get time outside of the house (except during lockdown, I was mostly stuck at home, but that's OK for me)...
Last night we couldn't go out for dinner, but we did have take away from the local Indian which was really good, and a special treat for us, we don't eat out often.
Alex and I plan to get away every 5-6 months for a visit to somewhere we haven't been. In March we were on the “Sunshine Coast” and checked out Australia Zoo, and in June we went south to the mid north coast to pick up BB Junior.
It's nice to get out and explore. A bit hard to do at the moment, with the restrictions, but we've agreed another trip away (before Christmas if possible) is in order. Those trips are part of the reason why I came home, to see some of Australia, and I'm lucky I get to make those experiences with Alex.
It's also nice to get away from it all. I know we live in a beautiful spot near the ocean, but here, at home, there's the computers, the life and routine, and getting away keeps us fresh and focused on each other. It's definitely something I look forward to!
Speaking of BB Junior, he's almost 7 months old now, and a real character. While he's not the easiest cat to train, I've been getting a few tricks out of him, and he enjoys his time outside, with his harness and long lead. He visits his cousin each week for play time, Charlie, who is another ragdoll of a family friend who loves to play chase all day long with Junior. Alex adores Junior, and Junior adores Alex; they can't wait to cuddle when she comes home from work. He's very vocal too, so even when everyone is at work, I have someone to talk to!
Losing our little boy Mijo was a real difficult experience. I know I've written about him before, but he deserves a mention here, as he was a big part of our first year here. He was full of character and strength, he and I bonded very quickly and not a day goes by I don't think of him. He also brought Alex and I closer together. When she chose him for me, and when he passed, and all points in between, he brought us closer.
I've been focused on sport a fair bit since getting back and settling in. I bought a RowErg, also known as a rowing machine, and I row about twice a week, in addition to riding my bicycle about twice a week. I try to surf every chance I get, which unfortunately ends up being only a few times a month. It's my goal to do something sporty to get my heart rate up every day, and of late, usually I get there too. I don't really do it for any other reason than I love to snack and I can't snack if I don't do sport!
A benefit of my sport/snack workout routine is it helps me stay calm and focused and connected with those I ride and surf with.
I haven't asked Mum how she's feeling about having her middle aged son and his wife living with her recently. Maybe I should, but do I really wanna know the answer? Well, I think she's OK with it. After all, we drive her wherever she wishes! I suspect it goes a little deeper than that, and in all honesty, we enjoy each other's company.
Since Alex and I have been here, I'd like to think Mum has been living a little bit fuller life. I don't think her eyesight has deteriorated much in the past year, but we've been able to provide her with support, eyes to read the small print, driving and help with google, or something around the house. When Mum was diagnosed with celiac disease earlier this year, Alex took her shopping to check over the ingredients of Mum's favourite food, and when needed, found alternatives. It definitely made the transition to gluten free a little easier on Mum and it was a load off my mind that we were around to help her through that phase.
Winter 2021 was over before it even started. I forgot how warm this part of the world is, and I don't know why I own so many jackets! Returning from Europe, where I was wearing a jacket daily for about 9 months of the year, here it feels like, if it's really needed, and I mean if you're desperate, you might need one for 9 weeks of the year. I think the heater was on a handful of times, and the sun was shining just about every day.
I tell ya, it's some kind of paradise here.
It's been a bit difficult keeping up with our European friends and family. I sometimes find it hard to find the time to be proactive to contact the 20, 30 or more friends I'd like to keep in touch with regularly. I know our lives keep on keepin' on, but time passes by so quickly too, and next thing you know it's been 4 months since I last contacted you!
Sorry about that!
Don't take it personally, and I'll get back to you, eventually!
My overall mental health has improved over the year, I'd say it's become quite stable since I started the course. I mean, can't you tell? I write less and less in this blog, because I have less and less to process. I'm not sure if it's the fact there's a lot of self reflection that is inherently a part of doing that kind of mental health course, or if it's the routine of being a student or the new friends I've made and classmates I study with.
It could be that it's taken a year to come to terms with being back here, cause when I first arrived I felt uncomfortable, depressed and worn out... There were a lot of questions; is this a mid life crisis? What am I doing here? Will I ever feel good again? Is my music career over? What am I going to do now? Is Alex OK? Is Mum OK?
My journalling, blogging, and support from friends and family has helped a lot too this past year. Processing my thoughts in words, by clarifying and reflecting, has helped a lot. I've been trying to care for myself a bit more now and then too, I think people call it self care, sometimes I call it sport! Alex has helped me to recognise my achievements, however big or small, and focus less on what I haven't done.
I'm not perfect, but definitely improving.
I was hoping that Alex and I would be in a position to start looking at buying our own house around this time, a year in, but unfortunately, with one of us being a student and the ever rising cost of housing, we have to sit tight on that idea for a while longer. Sorry Mum, you're stuck with us.
There's been many smaller things happen during our first year here. Lots of moments of gratitude, love and support. There's some stuff we've forgotten, or that has been overtaken by something bigger. All in all, I'd say it's been a real rollercoaster home coming!
We're still here, a year on, still going strong, making motions, taking chances, being in love, talking shit, laughing, smiling, misbehaving and focusing... What more could we ask for?
Thank you for reading, for your support and love. I love you too.
Josh
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If I Never Met You: Chapter 12
(??? X Reader) Idol!AU, Manager!Reader
Genre: (PG13) Fluff, angst
WC: 4.2k
Warnings: None
Series Masterlist
Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13
Within the next few days, the rest of the boys started returning from their breaks with plenty of stories of how their time with their families went. It was really nice to see them look so happy, and it seemed like they were refreshed and ready to really work hard on their debut.
I was still careful to keep my arm covered at first so that they didn’t suddenly see it and make a big deal about it, like what happened on Christmas. The day that the last of them returned I was sure to sit them all down and tell them about what happened. Of course they were concerned and also upset I didn’t tell them sooner, but it was a lot calmer than when Jin and Hobi found out.
The rest of the holidays came and went as quickly as they arrived, the end of the year being marked by a small celebration for V's birthday, and not too long after 2013 began my arm was thankfully healed.
Some of the songs for their debut album were finished so they needed to record and learn the choreography. And soon it was time for me and Sejin oppa to start going around to broadcasting companies, so they’d hopefully have a better chance at exposure when they were ready.
After a day in February of going around to as many companies as we could to leave business cards and information on BTS, I slumped onto my couch exhausted. Everywhere we went, we were dismissed and ignored, just being told to add it to the pile. He already warned me that’s how it would be, but that didn’t stop it from being mentally exhausting.
I was about to drift off to sleep right there when the familiar knocking sound on my door made me alert again. I answered the door to see Namjoon and Jungkook smiling at me.
“Hey, noona,” Kookie greeted me.
I waved in response. “What’s up?”
“We ordered food if you wanted to eat with us,” Namjoon said.
“It’s fine, I’m not-” I was about to say I wasn’t hungry, but after the mention of food I realized that I actually was. I didn’t think I ate since breakfast. “Actually, yeah I’ll take you up on that.”
I grabbed my phone and keys before walking next door with them. Of course the volume in the room was set to energetic, which just made me feel even more sleepy if anything.
“Hey, (Y/n),” Jin greeted. “We made sure to order extra for you just in case.”
“Thanks, honey,” I barely squeezed out before yawning.
“Are you tired, noona?” Hobi asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, today was exhausting. Both physically and mentally.”
“It didn’t go too well?” Taehyung frowned.
I found a spot to sit in between Jimin and Jin and grabbed a plate of takeout to start eating. “I mean, we didn’t expect people to give us anything to work with. It was our first time going around, so there’s not much to expect. But the icing on the cake was definitely a security guard thinking I was some fangirl just trying to sneak in. Spoke to me slowly in broken English and everything.”
“You’re kidding,” Hobi said, mid-bite of his noodles. “Even with your company ID badge?”
“Yup, Sejin had to take like two minutes to convince him. And even after I spoke in Korean to him, he still kept using his broken English.”
“Wow,” Namjoon vocalized. “That’s just rude.”
“Yeah, ‘rude’ basically sums up everyone we dealt with today.”
“I’m sorry, noona.” Jimin put his plate down so he could hug me from the side.
“It’s alright,” I said, leaning my head on his to show him I appreciated the gesture. “I knew what I was signing up for. Sejin already told me this is what I should expect.”
“If you were told that you’d just be disrespected and have to deal with rude people all the time for a job why would you want to agree to it?” Taehyung asked.
“Well, someone has to do it,” I replied. “And that’s just one aspect that is negative. The job I signed up for is to be your manager, to help you guys succeed. And that’s what I want to do. If I have to deal with a few jerks on the way, then so be it.”
I saw a few smiles appear on the faces around me at my words. “We love you too, noona,” Jungkook said.
I blew him a kiss in response. “So how’s practice going?” I hadn’t gotten to see them practice at all since the year started so I was curious how it was coming along.
“We’re working on the choreo for No More Dream,” dance captain J-Hope said. “It’s going alright so far, although the one move toward the end needs more practice than we expected.”
Jin made a hissing sound. “My back hurts just thinking about it.”
“Sorry, hyung.” Jimin looked at him apologetically.
“And we still have a few tracks to do the recordings for,” Namjoon added. “But I’d say it’s going well so far.”
“That’s good to hear,” I responded with a smile. “I need to try to set some time aside to see you guys practice soon.”
“We would love that,” Jin replied. “We got used to you stopping in so it’s been feeling weird not seeing you for so long.”
“Sorry,” I said. “Sejin oppa has been needing me for a lot of things recently and we’re doing a lot of things outside of the company too so I haven’t had the time.”
“Don’t apologize, noona.” Yoongi shook his head. “You have a job to do.”
Random conversations continued as we finished our meals, and it wasn’t long before I was almost falling asleep in their living room, both from my exhaustion and from being contently full.
Seokjin nudged my shoulder and called my name to keep me from falling asleep. “You should go home if you’re going to sleep, (Y/n),” he said. “Don’t sleep here when you live right next door.”
I sat up, still drowsy and nodded. “Yeah I should get going. I’ll see you guys sometime soon,” I said as I stood up and started walking to their door.
I heard them all ringing out goodbyes, but one of them said, “Wait, noona! Let me walk you.”
“I literally live right next door,” I said as I turned around to see it was Taehyung who walked over to me, going to slip his shoes on (improperly, with his heels not inside of course).
“You look like you’re about to fall over,” Tae responded. “I want to make sure you actually get to your room.” He then lowered his voice so only I could hear him, “And I wanted to ask you something.”
“Okay, fine,” I said. “Since it’s quick anyway, why not?” I waved goodbye to everyone one last time while me and Taehyung walked just a few feet to my door and I unlocked it, welcoming him inside.
He slipped his shoes back off and sat down on the couch. He kept his eyes on me as I slowly followed, my actions hindered by my drowsiness, before I sat next to him.
“What is it, Tae?” I asked.
“Well…” he started. He seemed nervous as he tapped his fingers on his knees. “There was something on my mind.”
“Don’t be scared to tell me, Taetae,” I said with a smile. “I’m here for you, you know that.”
He sighed, seemingly collecting his thoughts. “It’s just… Well I was wondering why it seemed like I’m being left out of the social media posts.”
Oh. That was a question I wasn’t expecting. “What do you mean, Tae?”
“Well, I’ve been filming logs on my own but none have gone up on YouTube, and I haven’t been allowed to be in ones with anyone else. And I was told not to say anything on the Twitter yet,” Taehyung was twiddling his fingers in his lap with his eyes focused on them. “Everyone else has been in a video or made a post on the Twitter but I’m not allowed to yet. I was wondering… Is there a reason for that?”
I frowned at him. “I’m sorry that you’re feeling left out Taehyung-ah.” I placed a hand on his back for comfort. “I promise that it won’t be for forever.”
“But, why is it though?” He finally looked up at me, but I almost wished he didn’t. I could easily see the sadness in his eyes. “Am I not good enough to be an official part of the group? Am I going to get kicked out?”
“What? No, of course not! You’re not getting kicked out, Tae. Nothing’s happening to you.”
“Then why is it only me?”
“I’m sorry, I really don’t know,” I said as I embraced him in a hug. “But I’ll ask about it, okay?”
“Promise?”
“I promise,” I said as I rocked him back and forth.
“Thanks, noona.” He embraced me even more tightly.
“Of course.” I released him from my embrace. “You should get going before they ask why you took so long.”
“Oh, yeah. And you need some sleep, too.” He quickly got up and slid his shoes back on lazily. “Good night, noona!”
“Good night, V,” I smiled as he left.
The next day I made my way to work, feeling refreshed after a good night’s sleep. I was way too tired for my concern of what Taehyung talked to me about to prevent me from sleeping. But I couldn’t get the sad look in his eyes out of my mind. He’s usually really happy and energetic, so I honestly hadn’t seen that side of him before.
With his words still fresh in my mind, I wanted to make sure to ask Sejin about it this morning before we started anything else. I wondered if he knew if there was a reason. My mind was so distracted by all my thoughts this morning that I was on autopilot. I walked into our now shared office, happy to see that he was already here.
“You’re here a little early,” he addressed me.
“Yeah, I had something I was hoping to talk to you about before we started work today,” I replied.
“Oh?” He looked at me, seeing my nervous expression. “Is something wrong?”
“Well, not wrong per se,” I started. “But there is something bothering me. Yesterday Taehyung was asking me why he’s being left out of the logs and twitter posts. He was upset about it, thinking he was going to get kicked out of the group.”
“He is most definitely not getting kicked out,” Sejin simply responded.
“I told him that, but he really feels like he’s being left out on purpose.” I shifted my weight around on my feet as I spoke, thinking about how sad he looked. “It made him really upset and he wants to know if there’s a reason why.”
Sejin looked at me for a moment before sighing as he pulled open a drawer from the desk and pulled out some small pieces of paper, dropping them onto the desk surface. I walked closer to see that they were business cards from various agencies, at least 10 or so. They were mostly from the more well-known companies with the most successful K-pop groups.
“We were going to tell him to start posting,” Sejin said. “But then last month he came to me, telling me about how he’s been getting stopped on the street by people from these agencies trying to scout him.”
“I feel like that’s a lot of business cards,” was all I could say.
“Yeah, it is. And that’s only street casting, they’re only asking him to audition based on his looks alone. Just imagine if he went to one of the auditions and they saw his talent and potential. They could snatch him away from us.”
“But he wouldn’t do that,” I responded firmly. “Our V wouldn’t leave BTS. I mean he’s under contract anyway and he can’t break that, not that he’d want to.”
“If they wanted him badly enough, they would pay the fee for him breaking his contract with us. And as much as I would really honestly hope that his bond with the other members and us would be enough to keep him here, you never know. Well-known companies who have very successfully debuted groups before could be really convincing and tempting, especially when our company has no recognition in the industry yet.”
“But why would that be a reason to keep him off of the YouTube and Twitter?”
“Because these same scouts could very well be looking online for potential talent, too. And if he’s already this appealing to them, imagine if they found out he’s been in training and is about to debut. They could get aggressive with trying to scoop him up.”
I took a minute to soak in the information. No matter what Sejin said, I couldn’t help but feel like V wouldn’t ever just leave us like that. But I also felt the fear that the other agencies’ offers could be way too tempting and more than what we could ever do for him and that made me feel insecure about it.
“If you’re wondering why I didn’t tell you,” Sejin broke through my thoughts, “I didn’t think I would need to. I’m sorry for not talking to you about it, but I didn’t want to worry you with this one.”
I was far more concerned with how Taehyung was feeling about the situation rather than why Sejin didn’t want to tell me about it. I finished putting my thoughts together before saying, “Well, when is he going to be able to post?”
“Probably not until the debut is set and ready. After we get filming done and their debut date is completely set. Just to be safe. At that point, it would be too late for anyone to try to steal him from us even if they wanted to.”
I slowly nodded, my thoughts still battling over the fear of the pull from well-known agencies and knowing that Tae wouldn’t want to abandon us. “What am I supposed to tell him? He’s waiting for an answer from me about this.”
Sejin thought for a moment. “Just tell him he’s our secret weapon. It’s not really a lie, I would pretty much say he honestly is at this point,” he said as he looked at the business cards laying on the desk again.
There was a noise at the door, and both of us turned to see what made it. I just barely caught a glimpse of the figure on the other side, noticing the door was left slightly ajar. Oh no. I turned back to look at Sejin, my eyes wide. “Please tell me I didn’t see that right.”
“Unless we’re both imaging things, I believe you did.” He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face.
“I’ll go talk to him,” I said as I rushed toward the door to chase the retreating figure down the hallway. Luckily, he didn’t run so I was able to quickly catch up to him.
“Taehyung-ah,” I called out to him as I got close.
He abruptly stopped for just a second before speeding up into a jog. But I wasn’t going to let him out of my sight so I kept up with him as best as I could. Just as he was about to exit the building, I managed to catch up to him and grab onto his arm. It made me wonder if he really didn’t want me to stop him, seeing as he could have easily outrun me if he had sprinted at full speed.
“Taehyung-ah,” I said as I caught my breath. “Let’s talk, hmm?”
“I think I heard all that I needed to hear,” He replied. His voice was shaky, but I could hear an almost angry tone to it, which shocked me for a second.
“Please,” I said as I placed my other hand on his back. “I don’t want you to leave like this.”
He turned to face me, and I was able to clearly see the trails his tears left on his cheeks. “Like what, noona?” he asked. “Feeling betrayed, knowing what you and hyung really think about me?”
If I thought my heart was already broken seeing him like this, his words completely shattered it. “Taetae, we trust you. Please, let’s just go somewhere to talk.”
Taehyung looked like he was considering what to do when we heard someone from behind me speak up.
“What’s going on here?” An all too familiar voice said, making my eyes widen and heartbeat race.
Tae seemed to have noticed my reaction because he stepped in between me and the speaker before responding, “It’s nothing.”
I turned around, now able to confirm that the voice belonged to the same woman who I encountered in the hallway that day with Yoongi. My grip on Tae’s arm tightened.
Taehyung turned around in response to my grip. After observing my expression, he gently touched my arm where it had been hurt, and very quietly whispered, “Was it her?”
I carefully nodded before he turned back to face her again.
“Did she do something to hurt you?” she asked stepping closer.
Taehyung slowly stepped back with each step she took toward us, pushing me with him. “No, everything’s fine. I’m just stressed, is all.”
Everything wasn’t fine. He was hurt by what Sejin and I said. But even so, he was still doing his best to protect me.
“If she’s done something wrong, you should tell me,” she said. “If someone does something wrong, they should get punished, don’t you think?”
“I completely agree,” he said. I couldn’t see his face, but I definitely heard the anger in his tone. “So you might want to be careful next time you have a boiling hot drink in your hand.”
With that, he grabbed my hand and started pulling me out the front doors of the building. “Let’s go, noona.”
I didn’t get to see her expression, but I heard her scoff and imagining what kind of look she must be sporting right now put a smile on my face. But I soon returned my attention to the boy in front of me, making my smile disappear again.
How could he do that? How could he stand up for me when he was crying just a minute ago because of my conversation he overheard?
We didn’t go far, just to the small park that was close by. He found a bench and let go of my hand to gently guide me to sit on it before taking a seat next to me.
“Are you okay, noona?” he asked me.
I looked at him, speechless for a minute. “How can you ask me that?”
He tilted his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I made you upset,” I said. “I made you cry, and not one minute later there you were standing up for me. And now you’re asking if I’m okay?” I turned my attention to my hands resting in my lap. “I’m supposed to be asking you that.”
Taehyung stayed silent, but I could feel his gaze on me.
“I’m really sorry you overheard our conversation,” I said after what felt like an eternity of silence, finally bringing myself to look at him again. “I promise, I really didn’t know anything when you asked about it last night.”
“Why would you guys think I’d leave?” he asked, his voice breaking just slightly.
“I don’t. I really don’t, Tae.” I took in a breath to keep myself steady before continuing. Seeing the look in his eyes made it really hard for me to keep my composure. “I don’t know how much you heard, but I told Sejin I don’t believe you’d want to leave BTS.”
“Well it definitely seems like he does at least,” he responded. I could see the water collecting in his eyes now.
“I don’t think he does,” I responded, turning toward him with my legs crossed on the bench and taking his hands in mine. “I just think he’s scared that what other agencies have to offer will be way too appealing.”
“That’s the same thing,” he snapped back. “He still thinks that you guys are so unimportant to me that I would leave if a good enough offer was thrown my way.”
“Not necessarily, Tae.” I took a second to think of how to explain it to him. “Let me put it this way. You would say that I’m close with you guys, right? And I’ve told you how I took this job because I wanted to help you and be with you guys. So you don’t think I would just up and leave, right?”
He nodded.
“Okay. Now imagine that I got a job offer elsewhere. That someone, for whatever reason, told me they wanted to hire me and offered me a large pay increase and benefits I don’t get from this job. Imagine that happened and you found out about it. How would you feel and what would you say to me?”
His eyes widened. “I would tell you, beg you not to leave us.”
“Exactly,” I replied, placing a hand on his cheek as his tears finally spilled over. “I would never, ever want to leave you guys. But if you found out that someone wanted to take me away, you’d get scared and ask me not to go. That’s the same way Sejin felt when he found out people wanted to take you away from us.”
Taehyung looked like he was mulling my words over for a minute before he closed his eyes, seeming to realize how we felt.
I wiped away his tears. “We know you wouldn’t leave. But the fact that other people, especially from big companies, are asking you to is scary. Regardless if we know that or not. I think oppa was just scared and didn’t know what else to do.”
Taehyung nods, understanding my words. “But if I promise that I absolutely will not leave, could I start doing logs and tweeting?”
I sighed as I considered his words. “I don’t know, Tae. It might still be better to hold off on that. You heard what he said, right? That if they see you and know that you’ve already been in training and might be debuting soon you might get people being more aggressive to scout you. Do you really want that?”
He thought for a moment. “No, I don’t think I do. I don’t want anyone thinking that they can take me away from my team. They’re my friends, my brothers. And no one is going to try to take me from them.”
I smiled. “I’m so happy to hear that, V.” I pulled him into a hug. “Just know that you’re safe, okay? We want you to be part of BTS so bad, we are doing what we can to keep other companies from snatching you up.”
I could feel him smile as he settled into the embrace. “Okay. I trust you and hyung. I won’t post anything until you tell me it’s okay to.”
We released each other, and I was about to stand up for us to start heading back before Taehyung started speaking again. “Oh, but noona, are you really okay?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“That woman. She seems really nasty.”
To be honest, I had completely forgotten about that since I was too worried about Tae. “Oh, her. Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it,” I reassured him with a smile.
“If she causes you anymore trouble, you’ll tell one of us, right?”
“Of course. Didn’t I promise you guys I’d be open about this stuff from now on?”
“Good. Because I’m definitely telling the others that she was bothering you again. I know she was only trying to get you in trouble.”
I sighed, knowing there was nothing I could do to convince him otherwise. “Alright, fine. Come on, let’s get back. I’ll make up an excuse for your instructor on why you were late.”
“Oh my gosh, I forgot about my lesson!” He quickly got up and started walking at a fast pace with me. “I’m so sorry.”
I laughed. “It’s alright, like I said I’ll go with you and make up an excuse.”
As we walked down the block back to the company, someone started trying to get our attention.
“Excuse me!” an unfamiliar voice yelled.
We turned around to see someone coming towards us, and they gave V a good look up and down.
“Hello!” the stranger said. “I’m from an entertainment company. I was wondering if you are interested in coming to an audition for us. We’re looking for new talent and you look like you’d be a good fit for what we’re looking for.” They held out a business card that had the name of one of the biggest companies on it to Tae.
“No, thank you. I’m not interested,” he responded with a kind smile before we turned to continue walking back. He didn’t even take their card.
We looked at each other and exchanged a knowing smile while we could hear the person trying to get his attention again, hoping he’d change his mind. But we both knew that wasn’t going to happen.
Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13
Tags: @calling-dips-on-j-hope @misohime @netflix-batman-sleep
Send me a message or ask if you want tagged!
#BTS fanfic#BTS x reader#thebtswritersclub#If I Never Met You#IINMY#Manger!reader#Idol!au#jin#kim seokjin#suga#yoongi#j-hope#hoseok#rm#namjoon#jimin#v#taehyung#jungkook#fluff#angst
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Cultural Christianity, Christian Appropriation, and Derailment
Periodically, I discuss the concept of cultural Christianity, the dangers of authors mucking with folklore that is not theirs, and what you have to guard against when you’re a part of a culturally Christian society.
And every time I do, like clockwork, Christians come in and say “but what about [non-Christian nation appropriating Christianity], hmmmmm????? That’s just as bad!”
So let’s talk about all of it.
Cultural Christianity
For starters: What is cultural Christianity?
Cultural Christianity is the fact the Western calendar is primarily built around two things: farming, and Christianity
Our dedicated time off that is mostly guaranteed to all workers are Christian holidays. Easter, Christmas, Good Friday. The time between Christmas and New Year is also prone to being off and this also in some dominions has Christian events.
And yes, I know that most of these holidays actually have pagan roots. Christianity co-opted them and thoroughly Christianized them, to the point their re-paganization only really started in the 1800s… by people who were also culturally Christian, and often wrote whole books on Christianity on top of their neo-pagan beliefs.
It’s how Christmas is considered a “neutral, secular” holiday, when it’s celebrating the birth of Christ. It’s how the concept of “other religions” exist, let alone the fact they have to ask for time off for their own holidays that count against their personal vacation time, when Christians often don’t have to do that. It’s how you see more churches than mosques or synagogues in the West by a very large factor.
There are very few places in the West that are not, on some level, culturally Christian. Some very insular communities might be able to escape a lot of the trappings of Christianity, but still. The government mandated days off are mostly Christian things.
Cultural Christianity means everyone who was raised in a culturally Christian society has a Christian lens. They are aware of Christianity, its holidays, its general story, its values.
This translates to them having to unlearn all of this and learn a whole new framework when they begin researching other folklore (Native religions, in my case, but this also applies to other religions such as Judaism and Islam) cause other folklore/religions do not have the same holidays, values, or even relationship to the deity in question.
Christian Appropriation
So in a non-Christian society, it is possible to appropriate Christianity. Because the same factors that have Christians appropriate everything else in the West are at play with a different dominant religion.
This mostly shows up in Japanese media. Japan has Shinto/Buddhism as a dominant religion, and you’ll often hear anime or manga artists say they simply picked Christian imagery because it looks cool.
And I agree this is disrespectful! It is really not fun to watch sacred imagery of your beliefs be used because “it looks cool” and I would love it if all appropriation of others’ beliefs ended.
But that often isn’t the focus of the posts getting these comments.
Derailment
This is twofold.
1- Very few places where Christianity isn’t the dominant religion exist.
Because Christian nations colonized most of the planet, there are a lot more culturally Christian places than you probably want to admit, if you’re the kind of person who pulls “but what about the appropriation.”. This includes a lot of Africa, a lot of Southeast Asia, a lot of Oceania, a lot of South America, basically all of North America, and basically all of Europe.
You might disagree with how they practice Christianity, but they are still Christian. This means they are culturally Christian. Just not your culturally Christian.
But, as I mentioned in the previous section, appropriation can happen. It just doesn’t happen much in the English speaking world, and I am speaking to the English speaking world. Specifically, the Western English speaking world, which is very much culturally Christian.
The places where Christianity isn’t the dominant religion, however, is mostly composed of non-white people, specifically Arab, South Asian, and East Asian. So these “but what about where Christianity is appropriated” often end up sounding like “why aren’t you persecuting people of colour”, which sounds like trying to justify racism against people over there to me.
2- You are trying to say you are as much of a victim as us, when you are not
If you live in the West, you are culturally Christian unless you have grown up very deeply entrenched in a non-Christian community.
You have grown up with a wide, wide, wide variety of Christian stories, Christian based stories, Christian values/worldviews-as-default told to you your whole life. Some of it has been terrible, some of it you disagree with, but by and large, every story has some infusion of Christianity to it. Some of the most popular fictional texts are deeply religious things, like the Chronicles of Narnia.
You have not had your religion forbidden from being practiced, to you personally.
You have only seen true appropriation in very recent times, because of the influx of non-Western media being imported.
You have not had your sacred places constantly, consistently infringed upon and destroyed for reasons like “an observatory” or “a pipeline” or “a dam” or “a mine”.
You may have dealt with misunderstandings and miscommunications but you have rarely had somebody fundamentally misunderstand what Christianity is (Jesus as lord and saviour, died for our sins, we should try to live a more godly life and a good life to get into Heaven and get eternal happiness).
Native people have not had any of those luxuries, and it has mostly been culturally Christian people who have taken what is ours and turned it into what they wanted it to be.
We have Christian pagans (paganism was founded and codified in the Victorian era, so no, it’s not “ancient wisdom” but more Victorians—who were definitely culturally Christian—interpreting everything to prove Christianity as more universal than it was*) peddle dream catchers and calling themselves medicine people and burning sage to the point it’s endangered, all trying to claim they’re “following Native practices” when they’re not.
So when I’m speaking to somebody in the Western world, 95% of the time I will be speaking to somebody culturally Christian.
*When you start to track the “studied ancient mysteries” things, you either find types like the Theosophical Society that wildly appropriated Hinduism and Buddhism to fit their own ends and often put in messiah figures into them to show how there’s a Christ everywhere on the planet, or you start to dive into people who took Christianized recordings of folklore who may or may not have sipped some “older religions are better for noble savages reason” juice.
It’s very often racist and pulling from records written down by missionaries who had a vested interest in modifying the folklore in question, or from people who’d already been Christianized, so its validity is questionable.
Beginning to Unlearn
If you want to learn more about cultural Christianity and how to be more respectful of non-Christian belief systems, take a look at the this post and the folklore tag in general. Those are great starting places for you to do deeper research into whatever marginalized belief you’re looking to use.
I’d also suggest earnestly learning about other belief structures’ customs, challenging your assumptions of what is neutral and universal and the proper way of doing things. You might find a lot of surprising things that you weren’t expecting, even just looking at Abrahamic religions.
In the end
When I’m speaking to somebody who wants to use Native folklore, I’m going to assume they’re culturally Christian and educate them accordingly.
I am having a conversation to Christians about the appropriation of Native culture and how not to do that.
I am not going to suddenly change topics to make Christians comfortable by proving that I’m a champion for them, because frankly, they shouldn’t be dangling respecting Natives if only they interrupt themselves to prove they’re properly educated on Christian issues. Because that demand is once again centring Christianity above Native people.
I am talking about Native issues, not Christian issues.
I do not accept derailments that are thinly veiled racism or persecution complexes based off “what if”s that have not actually happened in the West. I acknowledge they happen elsewhere, and that’s tragic. I am not the person to talk about those details. I’d rather pass the mic to Christians in the area and let them speak. They are not Western Christians’ shields to use as they will. They have a voice, as well.
I am not going to coddle people who feel that Christian values are diminishing from society because we need room for more than just Christian values and Christianity does not have a monopoly on being a good person.
I am talking about Christians appropriating Native American beliefs.
And if that makes you uncomfortable, to hear Western Christians have protection, insert their own dogma into too much, and have unlearning to do—without being able to tack on a story about how no, really, you’re a victim in the West—then you have more unlearning to do. I’ve given places to start learning above.
We are talking about Native issues right now.
And I will not stop calling Christians out for their religious-based colonialism.
~ Lesya
#guides#native american#culture#cultural christianity#folklore#religion#Christian#Christianity#long post
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Oof - Harry Holland (7)
𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲.
Pairing: Harry Holland x Model!Reader
Based on my Harry Holland one shot of the same title.
Harry Holland Masterlist || Ultimate Masterlist || Oof Materlist
DISCLAIMER: *This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.*
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: He liked her for a long time, but she didn’t know he existed.
Ahh, the holiday season. It's that time of the year where gift giving is everywhere. Everyone is in the comfort of their own homes whilst wearing their most comfortable and warmest sweater. Every family is gathered around the table, feasting on what was cooked. Everything is so delicate and beautiful.
Tom and Harry decided that it'd be best to stay in their childhood home for the holidays. All of them are getting ready for the big Christmas dinner that will happen later that night. Everyone is busy doing their part. Paddy and Dom are busy decorating the Christmas tree, Sam and Nikki are in the kitchen preparing the food, and Tom and Harry are hanging the Christmas lights and decorations all over the house.
Tessa is sleeping in her little bed, unbothered. Paddy was envious that she had to sleep in. A growing boy needs his sleep, doesn't he?
Of course, there will always be something lacking or something forgotten in every single preparation. In this case, some ingredients for their dinner are needed but they aren't available in the kitchen which means it's time to go on a trip to the grocery store. Suddenly, the Christmas lights aren't working anymore when Tom turned it on. That means, it's time to buy a new one. They also needed new oven mittens and new pot holders.
Nikki quickly emerges out of the kitchen and calls for Tom and Harry who are just standing in the living room, trying to figure out how in the world did the Christmas lights stop working. They both look at their mum. Nikki says, "Can you please go to the grocery store to buy some ingredients for the party? Sam and I can't start without them. You guys can go after I list them down whilst it's early."
"I don't want to go." Harry whines. "Besides, I have to clean around here. Can Sam go with Tom instead?"
Nikki rolls her eyes, "Fine." She grabs a pen and a paper and writes down the things needed for cooking.
"Sam, you're coming with me!" Tom calls out. Sam walks out of the kitchen whilst eating a chocolate bar and just nods.
"Can I come too?" Paddy asks.
"Sure! The more the merrier." Tom laughs. He walks upstairs to his room to get his phone, wallet, and car keys. When he comes back down, Sam and Paddy are ready to go. Sam has the list and Paddy is already out of the door.
-
They arrive at the grocery store and they grab the stuff that's on the list. They even added their own treats in. Along the way, Sam decides that he'll make dessert instead of buying something store bought. Paddy, who's pushing the cart, immediately stops in his tracks causing Tom to bump into him which resulted in Sam bumping into Tom. It's such a domino effect.
"What the hell, Paddy!" Tom says, walking to the side of the cart.
"Isn't that Harry's life long crush, Y/N?" Paddy points at a girl with an oversized hoodie and a pair of leggings with running shoes who is standing in the vegetable aisle.
Sam and Tom simultaneously looks at the girl and they both smirk. "Yup." Sam says, popping the 'p'. He grabs some vanilla from the shelf and puts it in the cart.
"Let's ask for a selfie." Tom says all of a sudden.
"Are you mad?" Sam asks.
Tom looks at him and his smirks grows even bigger, "It's for making Harry jealous. If he wasn't a whiny little shit, he could've seen her. Since he isn't here, we could grab the opportunity to ask for a picture with her and show it to Harry!"
"I like that idea." Paddy grins.
Sam just sighs and looks down, "That's really mean." He slowly looks up, sporting a sly smile on his face, "I like it!"
With that, the three of them rush to where Y/N is, only slowing down when they're near her so that they aren't creepy. As the eldest Holland boy, Tom takes it upon himself to clear his throat to catch the young girl's attention.
Y/N looks up from the bell peppers with a shy smile on her face, "Oh, sorry. I must be in your way. I can-"
"No, actually." Tom stops her from rambling. He looks at his brothers with a smile before looking back at Y/N. 'I'm an actor, goddammit. I can do this shit in my sleep.' Tom thinks to himself before speaking to her again.
"We were just wondering if we could take a picture with you? We're such big fans of yours." Tom says in a fake giddy voice. Y/N flashes him her million dollar smile and nods, "Sure!"
She takes her hood off and fixes her hair. The three Holland boys look at her in awe. They may make fun of Harry and his undying love for this girl, but they don't blame him for loving her. Throughout the years of Harry showing them her pictures and telling them stories about her, they've grown to develop a small crush on her. They just don't want to admit it.
Y/N truly is a beautiful girl. Seeing her in person seems so surreal. They only ever heard of her from Harry's stories. Tom and the rest except for Sam, didn't have a clue who she was up until Harry showed them the school's website where she modeled for. They started following her on Instagram since then.
"Who's first?" Y/N asks politely. Tom, Paddy, and Sam look at each other. They thought it'll be a group photo but an individual photo with her seems so much better than what they had in mind!
"Oh, did you not want an individual photo? I'm so sorry that I assumed-"
"Oh, it's no problem!" Tom interrupts. "An individual photo is much better."
"Can we do poses?" Paddy blurts out as Y/N looks at him and giggles. Paddy could've sworn his heart exploded with happiness. She just nods at him with a cute smile on her face.
"I'll go first." Sam volunteers and hands Tom his phone. Y/N stands in the aisle seeing as there are only a few people in the grocery store. "What pose are we doing?" Y/N asks.
"I'll give you a piggyback ride." Sam says immediately causing her to laugh. She agrees and Sam slightly bends down so that Y/N can hop on. She wraps her arms around his neck as her legs are around his waist. Sam grips her thighs and they both smile for a picture.
Tom takes the picture. Y/N even insisted on doing wacky shots. So, they did.
Sam bends down again and so she can go down. Sam thanks her and takes his phone from Tom. "Who's next?" she asks.
"Me!" Paddy grins and hands Sam his phone. "Can we just do a simple one? Like hugging and stuff?" He asks and Y/N nods and immediately hugs him. Paddy hugs her too.
"I think it'd be cute if I look at you in a loving way. That'd be awesome, right?" Y/N suggests.
Paddy, Tom, and Sam all nod their heads. Her suggestions are genius and they totally fit their plans. Y/N smiles and looks at Paddy in a loving way. Paddy does the same too. Sam takes the photo with a huge grin on his face.
Paddy lets go and thanks her. Y/N looks at Tom with a slight smirk on her face, "Last one, big guy."
Tom hands Paddy his phone rushes up to Y/N and picks her up bridal style. Y/N squeals in surprise, "Jesus Christ, man!"
She wraps her arms around his neck and chuckles, "I assume this is the pose you had in mind?"
Tom looks at her and naturally turns on his charm, "Yeah. I thought it'd be cute."
"Okay, get ready." Paddy says, holding Tom's phone up to take the picture.
Not being able to take Tom seriously, her gaze moves to the floor as she smiles. Tom looks at her and kisses the top of her head. Paddy perfectly takes the picture and Sam has a look of surprise on his face.
"Done." Paddy says.
Tom sets her down and winks at her, "Thanks, love. You really made our day." She giggles and nods, "You're welcome. You guys made my day too. I'm really happy I met you, guys."
"One last photo...as a group this time?" Sam asks and Y/N shrugs, "Go for it."
Sam opens the front camera on his phone and all four of them get together to take a group selfie. After that, they bid their goodbyes and continue their shopping.
After grocery shopping and buying other things for the house, they come back and Sam immediately rushes to the kitchen with the grocery bags so he and Nikki can start cooking.
"What took you all so long?" Harry asks as he takes the new Christmas lights out of the bag. Paddy sits on the floor to play with Tessa who is now awake. Tom just shrugs, "Line was too long."
Harry just nods before he and Tom put up the Christmas lights.
-
Before going home, Tom, Sam, and Paddy planned to make their pictures with Y/N their wallpapers. They also plan on purposely leaving their phones in the living room so that when they ask Harry to fetch their phones, he'll see their lockscreens and go livid.
That's what's happening now.
Everyone is enjoying themselves out in the backyard where the celebration is happening. The whole family was there.
"Um, Harry? Can you please get my phone in the living room?" Tom asks nicely. Harry gets up from his seat and nods.
"Mine too!" Sam calls out.
"Same here!" Paddy adds.
Harry rolls his eyes and shakes his head. He goes back inside the house to fetch all three phones in the living room. As soon as he picks them up, their phones open and he sees their lockscreens.
"OH MY GOD." Harry says loudly.
The three culprits try to hide their laughter when Harry goes back outside.Harry glares at the three of them and asks, "You met Y/N?!"
"Yeah, at the grocery store." Sam laughs, not taking it anymore.
"If you've been with us, you could've seen her and told her your undying love for her." Tom says dramatically.
"Lucky bastards." Harry mumbles under his breath as he hands them their phones.
"You know it." Tom teases.
* * * *
lucky bastards indeed and mY DMS ARE NOW WORKING SO FEEL FREE TO SEND ME A DM SKSKSK
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @marvelousell
𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟
#harry holland#harry holland fanfiction#harry holland fanfic#harry holland fic#harry holland x reader#harry holland x y/n#in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh
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