#and when i asked mum to maybe even float the idea past him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Note

Can I request a prompt of dad!Harry where maybe it’s just him And Sasha and they get mobbed and her slightly hurt but he is furious

JUST A LESSON

word count: 5k+ (how'd i write this in one day)

warnings: language, smut, blood, minor injuries

- If you'd like more from dad!harry verse - check out my masterlist! (pinned post)

- PLEASE NOTE: DAD!HARRY & CEO!HARRY ARE TWO DIFFERENT TROPES.

*** <- click for visuals throughout the story!

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Harry was quite stressed out. He wasn’t sure how his wife did it all the time. She was constantly packing up Sasha and toting her around the globe to meet up with him for concerts and events when he was away.

The little family had been staying in their Los Angeles home for nearly three months now as Harry had been writing for his third solo album. It involved a lot of late nights were Y/N were putting Sasha to bed by herself.

Harry was eternally grateful that she was so patient and understanding when he snuck into bed quarter past three after finding a rift that fit a new song perfectly or when Mitch had an idea that had Harry on Skype for hours with him.

The stress was overwhelming for her though. She was usually good at self-care and taking time for herself but Sasha had been so needy lately and crabby when her father wasn’t at her beck and call.

The toddler was going through a bout where she struggled to sleep through the night and had a tendency to scream bloody murder when she didn’t get her way.

It was nearly three weeks of this and she hadn’t mentioned it too much to Harry because she didn’t want him to be as stressed out as she was.

Tonight, Y/N had rocked, sang, hummed, and read to her daughter to stop the angry tears that were rolling down her cheeks but nothing was working. It was near eleven at night and she had took Sasha out in the car for a long ride where she finally fell asleep.

But as soon as Y/N unlocked the front door, she startled awake even angrier than before, squirming out her mother’s grip and bolting through the house. When she tried to round a corner, she slipped on her bum.

Y/N felt her anxiety level break.

Sasha began screaming once again, “Mummy! No! No!”

When Y/N picked her up after her slight tumble, she was absolutely not hurt but had become even more frustrated. Y/N was starting to feel overwhelmed - which didn’t happen often.

“Baby, what do you want? What can mummy do?” Y/N asks with desperation, searching her baby’s watery green eyes. She looked so much like her dad it was absurd.

“No! Down! Stop!” The two year old orders with a furrowed brow, lips in a tight line with her nose scrunched up in displeasure.

“Sasha, you just hurt yourself. You can’t run in the house, the floor is slippery,” Y/N tells her firmly despite it falling upon deaf ears.

“Bad mummy,” Sasha shrieks, “Daddy! Want Daddy! Now!”

Y/N is embarrassed to admit that she has tears welling up in her eyes. She was trying everything in her power to soothe her baby. It’s midnight at this point and she’d been at it since seven this morning.

Sasha had refused a nap all day - giving Y/N no respite at all. Harry had left at eight in the morning and hadn’t returned yet. Even though Sasha was only two and a half, Y/N felt a pang at the words ‘bad mummy.’

She didn’t feel any other option at this point than to call Harry for help. She wanted to be capable of being at stay home mum but sometimes it was really fucking hard but she felt guilty because she should be able to do this. Harry was out there working hard, providing, constantly.

When he doesn’t answer, the tears freely start streaming down her face in silence. She scrubs at them quickly so that her daughter doesn’t see them but it’s hard to catch them all - sobs threatening to bubble through her lips.

“Daddy’s working, we need to go to sleep,” Y/N replies to her daughter, jaw clenched to hold back the upset she feels. She needs a minute alone but she doubts her toddler will let her.

“Pool?” Sasha piques, “Swim?”

Y/N wants to laugh, it’s so fucking late and Sasha should have been in bed nearly four hours ago. The mother was so beyond her routine at this point, that she actually just gave in to her daughter.

Sasha’s mood turns around when Y/N wrangles them both into their swimsuits ***and trails out of the back patio, switching on all the lights around as well as in the pool. The California air was still extremely warm, enough to cause a sweat. ***

She tugs a little donut raft into the pool with them that Sasha can float around on while Y/N guides it to keep her safe. She was so tired by this point that her bones felt like they weighed a million pounds.

Sasha’s eyes droop until they finally flutter close within minutes of being in the warm water. Her eyelids splotchy pink from all of the fits and tears from the day. And when she is completely asleep, Y/N lets herself cry as she continues to float the baby around the pool to keep her asleep.

She hasn’t been doing it for more than ten minutes when the patio door opens and Harry is stepping into the back with a confused expression that she can’t see because her back is turned to him.

“Love, why are you in the pool? S’late,” Harry asks softly but he doesn’t get an answer, so he’s slipping out of his plain tee and striped pants, dirty vans kicked to the side ***.

Just in his briefs, he quietly enters the pool to not disrupt the ebb and flow of the water. When he makes his way over to her, he slides in front of his wife, alarmed at the exhausted, tearful expression on her face.

“Baby, what’s happened? Talk t’me,” Harry whispers, hands coming to cup his wife’s face in between his large hands. Rings cold against her hot, wet cheeks. He looks to his sleeping daughter, running his eyes over her a few times and decides she seems completely okay.

“M’fine,” Y/N chokes out but the lie causes a fresh wave of tears.

Harry frowns, “Don’t lie to me, pet. Please, don’t shut me out. M’always here for you.”

“I’m a bad mum,” She sobs silently, her eyes closing as she leans into his palms before moving to rest her head heavily on the crook of his tattooed shoulder, his chest damp from the salty tears.

“Wha-What’s brought this on? Y’the best mum in the world, best wife in the world. The best at everythin’, why are you doubtin’ that, my heart?” Harry murmurs, taking over the rocking motions of Sasha’s raft.

“She wouldn’t settle today, Harry. Like at all, refusing to nap, eat any healthy food, or bathe. She screamed at me the whole day no matter what I did and then she told me I was bad and she wanted you.”

“Love, she’s in the midst of her terrible twos. She loves you more than anythin’ on this earth. Y’her mummy and a damn good one at that. Why didn’t y’call me? I’d come home, work is never more important than our family.”

Y/N doesn’t bring up the fact she did try to call, “I need to be able to do this myself, Harry. M’a stay at home mum, taking care of Sash is literally my only job and I can’t even do that.”

Harry’s face hardens but he tries to not take it personally, knowing his wife is just upset with herself, “That’s not fair to me, dove. M’her daddy, she’s half mine too. She’s just as much of my responsibility as yours, no matter what my job is.”

“I don’t want to stress you out more than necessary,” Y/N mutters into his skin.

“Me coming home to my wife in tears and my baby in the pool at midnight is more stressful than you ringin’ me to come home,” Harry tells her, smearing a few kisses to the top of her hair.

“I’m sorry for worrying you. I’m just tired.”

Harry pulls her back so he can look her in the eyes, “Never apologize for somethin’ like that. Go get a bath and let me put the bub to sleep, okay? I love y’mumma.”

Harry calls his mum the next morning while Y/N is out getting a manicure with Glenne. He’d called her favorite salon earlier in the day, coercing them into opening a spot for her with a monetary bribe.

Y/N had hesitated at the door as Sasha threw a fit at her mother leaving the house. She clung onto her calf until Harry had to physically pull her off and hold her tightly in his arms.

Currently, Sasha was playing with a set of dolls on the floor of her bedroom as Harry sat next to her. She’d originally been happy with the presence of her father until he told her he needed to make a phone call.

Harry had to be stern with her when she went to grab at the phone pressed to his ear, gently gripping her wrist and frowning, “We don’t do that, s’not nice.”

Sasha had attempted to grab at it again and managed to tangle Harry’s long locks into his fist, tugging at them. Harry unraveled the small fingers before telling his daughter, “If you do that one more time, y’going on the step for two minutes.”

The threat had her pouting harshly but turning back to her toys to occupy herself, sighing when his mum finally answered the phone, “Hi darling.”

“Hi mum, you alright?” Harry asks, relaxing at the sound of his mother’s melodic voice.

“I’m perfect, you don’t sound okay, dear,” Anne replies with a concerned twinge.

Harry didn’t call much to complain, didn’t like worrying her and most of the time Y/N was able to provide the support he needed or Jeff.

“Y/N’s really overwhelmed,” Harry tells her before choking up a bit, “And I don’t know what to do mum, I feel like m’bein’ a bad husband. Came home to her crying last night and she feels like she’s a bad mum.”

When Sasha hears her father’s voice crack, she looks up at him curiously before recognizing that he’s upset. She crawls into his lap, fitting herself against his chest before playing with a doll there. Comforting him.

Harry wraps his free arm around her, pulling her as close as possible. His precious little baby. A little blessing as sweet as her mother.

“Oh honey, that happens. Mums, good mums especially are so critical when they don’t need to be. Baby’s are overwhelming, plus I know she’s been alone a lot with her. But you’re not a bad husband, dear.”

“It feels like it,” Harry sniffles, burying his face in his daughter’s lavender-scented curls from her bath earlier.

“If you were, you wouldn’t be calling,” Anne chuckles at her son, “Now how can we make this situation better?”

The phone call helped Harry not feel so hopeless in helping his wife. He’d come up with the plan to fly to England with Sasha so that Anne could see her but Y/N could have some alone time for a long weekend.

When Y/N enters the front door after her appointment, she’s met by a very excited little human who rushes to her mother and demands to be picked up. Of course, Y/N obliges, looking a bit more refreshed and awake as she tucks the baby against her hip.

Harry had ordered their favorite salads from a shop in the city and had it ready for her, “Oh, looks delicious. Thank you, H,” She smiles at him, leaning to give his stubbly cheek a kiss.

As they dig in, Y/N feeding bits of chicken and veggies to her daughter as they eat, Harry clears his throat, “I’m taking Sash to Holmes Chapel for the long weekend to see my mum.”

Y/N smiles, “That sounds great!”

Harry gives her a perplexed look, he’d thought she’d put up a fight. She despised being away from Sasha - couldn’t go a day without seeing her daughter.

“Really?” Her husband asks, putting down his fork.

“Mhm, I just have to pack a bag for Sash and I. When are we leaving?” Y/N replies eagerly, ready to go back home and get away from California for a bit.

Harry’s stomach clenches, “Erm, I meant just me and the baba? I thought you could stay here and relax for a weekend. Sleep, hang out, shop.”

Y/N’s face falls and is replaced with a devastated look, “You don’t think I’m being a good mum.”

Harry backpedals, realizing he shouldn’t have approached it in the lax way he did.

“No, no, of course not, baby. I think you’re such a good mum that you need a break. You never get breaks, m’the one who always does. S’not fair to you. I just need you to have some time to take care of yourself,” Harry explains, his heart shattering a bit at the tears brimming again.

“I don’t want a break, don’t leave me here,” Y/N begs, tucking a piece of tomato in her daughter’s expectant mouth before Sasha chews and smiles at her mother.

“Mummy, more please?” Sasha chirps, her mood a little bit brighter than it had been the last few days.

“Thank you for using your manners, here baby,” Her mother responds, popping another into her mouth after she sliced it in half.

“Did you book a commercial flight?” She asks her husband with an angry tone.

“No, private but we have to catch it at LAX,” Harry explains, the private airport they usually fly out of was filled to capacity at the moment.

“Either I’m coming or you’re going alone. You’re not taking Sasha without me,” Y/N replies firmly. She stands up and shuffles Sasha into his lap before leaving the room without another word.

Harry didn’t expect that. He should have thought it through more. If Y/N wanted to come, of course she could, but he’d never meant to offend her or act like he was taking Sasha away from her.

Harry had attempted to reason his way out of going to the studio with Jeff today. However, with the final cuts and adjustments were being made - he was quickly turned down and demanded in the studio.

When he’d trailed into the quiet house that night, relieved to find his baby in her crib instead of the pool, he went to his bedroom where the lights were still on.

The closet doors were open and Y/N was on the ground folding and sorting Sasha’s clothes before placing them in her suitcase. ***

Y/N’s suitcase already laying zipped and ready to go by the entrance of the closet. Her toiletry bag was placed neatly on top of it. Then his heart pings a bit when he sees that she’s already packed up his suitcase as well.

Harry pads over to his wife, plopping down behind her and tugging her back into him - long arms wrapping around her upper chest.

“Missed you, mumma.”

She hums, “I missed you too. Miss you always.”

“Y’the love of my life, y’know that?” Harry asks, kissing the back of her neck.

“I better be or you married the wrong person,” Y/N laughs softly, her tone still off but lighter than before.

“Married the right person, knocked up the right person.”

Y/N barks out a laugh, rolling her eyes, “How romantic.”

“Baby, y’know what I’m getting at. You’re the best mum and wife. I just wanted you to have a few days to yourself. To lower your stress level and let you do some self-care,” Harry murmurs, pushing the baby clothes out of her hands.

“But your mum can watch her for a bit while we’re there, right? I don’t want alone time, I need the exact opposite. I need company,” She tells him, twisting herself until she’s seated in his lap - straddling him.

“Mmm, can definitely have some alone time,” Harry agrees instantly, his mouth finding her throat - beginning to lay a path of wet, hot kisses down the column down to her collarbones.

“H, I have t’pack, we’re leaving tomorrow morning,” Y/N weakly argues but can’t help but bear down against her husband when she feels him harden in his loose pants quickly.

“S’just a quickie? Yeah, pet? Lemme fuck you,” Harry’s hands dragging the shirt she’s wearing up and over her head. Eyes lighting up boyishly when he realizes she didn’t have a bra on.

She can’t argue as he darts down to wrap his lips around her pert bud, sucking between long swipes of his tongue - just how she liked it. “Missed y’body so much,” Harry states against her heated skin.

“Just had me two days ago,” Y/N laughs but it cuts off into a moan when his hand slides into her pajama shorts and finds her clit over her thin underwear.

“Never enough,” Harry replies easily, “Remember the song I wrote f’you?”

Y/N snarkily asks, “Which one? Nearly all your songs are about me.”

And well...Harry can’t even argue how true her statement is. “The one titled ‘Never Enough’, pet? Remember?”

Before she can speak, he lowly croons out the chorus of the song he wrote for One Direction years ago, “Lips so good I forget my name. I swear I would give you everything. It’s never enough, never enough.”

Harry knows his sweet as syrup singing gets her immensely turned on and so he’s not surprised when she whimpers against his lips, “Fuck me, c’mon.”

He’s delighted at his wife’s pleas and quickly moves them, leaning forward with her until she’s on her back on the ground of their walk-in closet. He accidentally kicks over a pile of Sasha’s dresses but neither even notice.

There is no time wasted as Harry removed every single article from Y/N’s body quickly as well as his own. He’s leaning forward to suck a few more kisses to her chest as his fingers slip down to crook right up into her hot center.

“No teasing,” Y/N complains, wrapping hands around his biceps and bringing him on top of her more fully. She’s squeezing around his two fingers with need, it has him groaning when he brings them up and sucks them between his pouty lips.

Then she’s not waiting any longer, reaching down and grabbing a hold of his thick length. Harry lets out rumble from his chest at the contact before she’s guiding him into her without any further ado.

“Baby,” Harry chastises as soon as she starts goading him into thrusts with her feet against him bum, pushing him into her harder than he’d usually start, “Y’squeezin’ me s’tight, you missed me too?”

Y/N nods, whining every time he pushes against her spot and sends a zip of arousal through her body. His trimmed hair around his base brushing against her clit causing delicious friction for her.

“No, y’need to tell me,” Harry huffs, hand gripping her jaw harsher than he would if they were having slow, intimate sex. He knew she loved it by the way her eyes twinkle with stubbornness.

“No,” She replies coyly, heels of her feet pressing hard against him to the point it itches with a slight pain. Harry loved his wife so much it was looney.

“It’s fine, don’t need y’to come for me to get off, dove,” Harry replies simply, speeding up his thrusts with his hand holding her jaw for him to press bruising kisses against. His teeth are coming to pull her bottom lip in between.

Something switches in her demeanor though without warning, her voice softer and pliant, “Tell me you love me.”

It has Harry slowing down his hips until he’s rocking deeper into her, going down on his elbows so their noses are bumping. He releases the grip of her chin and instead moves to her bum to encourage her to meet him halfway.

“I love you, s’much it hurts most days,” Harry replies obediently, knowing what his wife needed at that moment. Reassurance. “Most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on, then you made us a perfect little baby.”

She’s looking up at him with loving, grateful eyes, landing a gentle peck to his upper lip and letting her head fall back onto the floor. This is what she needed right now from her husband and he was so good at providing.

“Breaks my heart when y’don’t think your a good mum or wife. ‘Cause you’re everythin’ I ever wanted. Why’d you think I write every song about you, lovie? S’cause you’re my soulmate.”

“H,” She whimpers, emotion thick in her throat as she meets his eyes, “I love you so much. You’re the best husband and dad ever.”

“Baby,” Harry murmurs into her cheek, picking up speed as she starts to clench around him in a warning of her oncoming orgasm. He slips his hand down to press a few light rubs to her clit before she’s arching her back and moaning with pleasure.

“You look s’good, coming ‘round my cock,” Harry tells her, helping her ride through it before hitching her hips up even further and thrusting harshly until his hips stutter and he’s coming as well.

“Harry,” Y/N sighs, her breathing coming back to normal as she roams a hand down his shoulders and back - scratching lightly.

“Hmm, dove? Y’want my cock again? Need a few,” He replies into her neck, ever the teenage boy.

She giggles, “No, we have to catch a flight at eight in the morning and it’s currently four-thirty.”

Harry grunts before pulling out and sitting up, “Y’better have packed my favorite pajama pants or I’m goin’ to be cross with you.”

Y/N now regrets the second round of fun as soon as their alarm goes off. Her body sore from the position he’d twisted her into against the shower wall after they packed the rest of Sasha necessities.

They were nearly at the airport with Sasha nodding back off in the carseat. She was excited to see her Nana and Aunt Gemma once again.

Their daughter was in the cutest, comfiest jumpsuit with comic hearts all over it *** and adorable little sock sneakers*** that slide right on and off her feet.

Harry had chucked on black sunglasses, a black jumper with green lettering, black joggers, and blue checkered van with white socks. He was attempting to fly under the radar as much as possible because he knew paparazzi just sit outside the entrances to spot celebrities. ***

It was annoying but he could deal with it when he was mobbed at the airport when he was by himself. But when it was with his wife and baby - he couldn’t stomach it. It’s part of the reason they fly private from a private port.

When they pull up to the curb, a staff member is waiting for them and helps Harry as well as the driver put his luggage on a cart to be brought to the awaiting jet.

Y/N unbuckles the baby who is awake now but bleary-eyed as she’s sitting on the curve of her mother’s hip.

And well - that’s when the madness begins. A pap spots them within seconds of exiting the car and is pulling up his camera for the first shots, the other photographers sitting around follow suit.

As soon as one of them screams, “Harry Styles - look this way!” The jam packed area looks towards them, seeming fans of his start murmuring before following behind the paparazzi pulling their phones out.

Y/N is used to the crowds by now - but just like Harry, not with Sasha around. They tried to avoid situations like this as much as possible. The lights and loud noises were scary to the little girl.

“Mummy,” Sasha whines, picking her head up from her mother’s shoulder to stare wide-eyed at the gathering in front of them.

Harry started to feel anxiety because this was becoming a massive crowd - scratch that, it wasn’t a crowd it was a fucking mob of people. They were all too close, blinding the family with their flashes despite security attempting to push them back.

Fans were shoving and thrusting their phones in Harry’s face, shoving random things for him to sign in front of him. Paparazzi were screaming questions and taking thousands of pictures in a minute’s time.

Harry grabs onto Y/N’s hand tightly, their diaper bag on Harry’s shoulder, and begins to attempt to guide them through the swarm. It was like trying to move through cement, the crowd not budging despite security’s screams.

Sasha is full blown crying at this point into her mother’s neck. Y/N’s hand cupping the back of her head to keep her head down and out of the photographs - holding her as tightly as possible.

Y/N can hear Harry began to curse - signaling that he’s becoming stressed out because he would usually never be rude to the public despite their actions. But he couldn’t give a fuck when it came to his family.

“Move out of the way.”

“D’you not see I have a fuckin’ baby?”

“Get those fuckin’ cameras out of their faces.”

“Back the fuck away from my wife and baby.”

Then Y/N is being shoved by a teenage girl who trips when she thrusts her arm towards Harry. She tumbles into Y/N with her full weight and Y/N’s loses her footing, falling forward - letting go of Harry’s hand.

When she falls, she manages to catch herself with the arm that’s not holding her daughter. But she feels pain in her knees and Sasha emits a sharp wail that alerts Y/N her daughter is hurt.

“Sash, fuck,” Y/N gasps, her motherly instincts automatically kicking in and she’s cradling her daughter as tightly to her chest as she can, shielding her from the swarm who had quieted only a bit.

It must take Harry a second to realize that something had happened, he turns around - eyes frantic as he absolutely roars, “Back the fuck up! I’ll fuckin’ break each and everyone of your cameras! Fucking leeches.”

With that, he’s helping to pull you up and grasping at the two, “Are you okay? Wha’s hurt?”

Y/N just shakes her head, having a panic attack as she shuffles the crying baby into his arms. “Please, just...Sasha. I think she hurt her arm when I fell.”

“Daddy, ouch,” Sasha shrieks loudly into his sweatshirt as he hikes her up onto his chest, her little legs wrapped around his midsection.

“Ssh, y’okay,” Harry tries to reassure her, matching his wife’s panic.

The crowd seems to give way now, the parents rushing their daughter into the airport.

Employees guide them to the medical office on-site where it’s now silent and calm but the family feels anything but.

Sasha’s sobs have turned into moans and whimpers at this point - but come back with a vengeance when Harry has to set her on the exam table and wrestle her out of her clothes until she’s just sat in her diaper.

The nurse was so amazing and kind. She checked Sasha thoroughly for any signs of trauma or broken bones but luckily, it was just a nasty scrape on her forearm that was hurting her. It wasn’t anything serious.

The parents had such concern for their daughter that Y/N didn’t even realize she had bled through her white joggers at the knees ***. The nurse frowns, “Honey, you’re still bleeding.”

“I’m fine,” She insisted even though her knees were aching.

“I’d like to examine your legs, dear,” The nurse tells her sternly, signaling that Harry can dress Sasha again.

He’s digging into the diaper bag for a spare out that they were always ready with. She was calming even more when Harry dressed her in a comfy pink set of clothes with little deer on them. ***

“Love, please let her,” Harry asks softly, pulling Sasha back onto his chest. Her thumb tucked into her mouth and her father hands her a plushie that Y/N had shoved in the bag last minute.

Y/N obliges with the pressure, wiggling the loose fabric down her legs until she’s just in her underwear and shirt - sits up on the table with her knees off to the side for her to examine.

Harry grimaces when he sees the multiple cuts and scrapes tainting her skin. A few slow trickles of blood still oozing from the gashes. The skin is already slowly covering purple and blue with bruises.

The nurse cleans her up, Y/N wincing when the alcohol brushes the cuts but Sasha is smiling again like nothing ever happened and cooing at her mum. It makes them both feel a lot better.

When they’re finally on the private jet, up high into the clouds away from the crowds and paparazzi - it feels like relief. ***

They had tucked their daughter onto the couch with her favorite fuzzy blanket and she’s asleep nearly as soon as her head hits the pillow.

They trail back into the other part of the cabin so that they don’t disturb her, cuddling up on the couch together.

“M’so sorry, I’m such a bad fa-”

Y/N cuts him off before he begins, “If I’m not allowed to be a bad mum - you’re not allowed to be a bad father. It wasn’t y’fault that happened - it’s those careless, crazed people who have nothing better to do.”

Y/N was always the voice of reason in Harry’s head when he started to spiral.

Spiral because his fame was so overwhelming and got his family into difficult situations sometimes. She brought him back to reality.

“Hey, we’re both okay. Just a few scrapes. It was just a lesson, Harry. We just need to be safer and plan better, alright?” Y/N assures him softly, kissing under his chin before resting back - ready to sleep.

“Y’the best. Best mum, best wife,” Harry tells her, encompassing her in his loving hold.

let me know your thoughts bub

come talk to me <3

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blessednereid · 3 years

Text

Pity the Living

Daniel Sharman x Reader Series

A/N: The Much Requested, and By Requested, I mean @rogershoe wanted me to write this, MY DANIEL SHARMAN FANFICTION!!!!!! The character that Y/N plays is based on my OC for FTWD and is not an actual character in FTWD. Basic Premise of the setting for this chapter is that they're in high-school/ secondary school. But for the majority of the story(minus flashbacks) it's set in 2016/17 when s3 of FTWD was filmed.

Story Summary: When (Y/N) (L/N) reunites with a high-school friend on the set of the job she's been working on for the past 2-3 years, not only is she excited to work with the guy who inspired her to go into acting, but to hear about what he's done since she's seen him. But the more they talk, the more she realizes, this reunion is not going the way she had planned.

CW: Cursing? brief mention of alcohol, anxiety, mentions of food, fake dagger, fake blood, bets,

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Career Day

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

Most of the students around you were chorusing to the tune of your school anthem, but not you. You had heard the melody and sung it almost a million times. Whether you were exaggerating or not, not even you knew. Instead, you were whispering and laughing with one of your best friends, Daniel Sharman.

You met Daniel when you first came to the school. You didn't know many people. You didn't even know yourself in this place. It was a completely foreign experience, but he stuck by your side and showed you around.

Since then, you had made friends, joined the swim team, learned your way around the school without ending up in the boys' restrooms instead of the girls' ones. Despite not needing Daniel to show you around anymore, he still provided plenty of comedic support and pick-me-ups and was a great mate all around.

Your teacher had just finished introducing all the parents who were presenting at career day. The assignment being after the presentations were finished, you were supposed to think about what you wanted to be in the future. You had no idea what you wanted to be. But of course… Daniel did.

"An actor."

"An actor?" he nodded. "Like Macbeth?"

"No, Macbeth is a character. An actor is a person who plays the character."

"Why an actor?"

"Dunno. Just seems right."

You frowned. "Huh, that's nice. Knowing what you want to be."

"You could always try acting. It's worth a shot."

"Hah, if I ever tried acting, it would probably be when I'm old, senile, and look like Betty White."

"Oh, come on. You're a great actress!"

"What's that supposed to mean, Sharman?" you gasped.

"Just that you tell fibs and stories as if they were the truth. That's all acting is."

"I DO NOT!"

"How did you convince your mum that your dog jumped onto the table and ate the cake without making any noise last weekend, then?" You opened your mouth to speak before closing it.

"Cat got your tongue?" he teased.

"Shut up, Sharman."

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

L/N Residence

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

You and Daniel were both swimming in the pool in your backyard when Daniel asked you the question.

"Did you think about it?"

Still floating, you asked, "About what?"

"Acting."

You laughed incredulously. "You were serious?"

"Of course I was." He swam closer to you and pulled your leg down, making you flop around and splash water.

"WHAT THE HELL!"

"Was just trying to get your attention," he remarked innocently.

You coughed. "You had it."

"Picture this," he waved you off. "Us, on the red carpet-"

"Who's red carpet?"

"Does it matter? We'll be each other's dates anyways."

"Why is that?" you asked.

"Because we're best friends."

"What if one of us has a boyfriend or girlfriend?"

He shrugged. "Ok, whatever. We're on the red carpet separately. It's both of ours red carpet-"

"So, does that mean we're in a movie together?"

"Yes, Y/N," he muttered exasperatedly.

"But that's impossible?"

"Why do you say that?"

You leaned closer to his ear. "BECAUSE I'M NOT BECOMING AN ACTOR."

He jumped away from you, proceeding to splash you with water.

"Mark my words. I know talent when I see it."

You sighed. "Could this just be you not wanting to be lonely in the acting world?"

He jutted his lip and spoke in a whiny voice. "Maybe…"

You laughed before splashing a giant wave of water at him. While he still had water in his eyes, you dove under and pulled him down.

He flailed around before his head popped up, and he calmed down.

"WHAT THE HELL!"

"PAYBACK, SHARMAN!"

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Announcement

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

The intercom gave a heavy buzz, and static-y noises ran amok over the building before a voice actually came through the speakers.

"Hello, Teachers, Students, and Faculty. Welcome back to school. We hope that you all enjoyed your holidays and got the rest you needed to pay attention in class today," the last part was passive. Your principal gave more announcements for clubs and sports around the school, such as upcoming games or reminders for students to buy the school yearbook.

You were nodding along interested, or looking for interest really when something caught your best friend's attention.

"The school will also be hosting its first-ever play, Romeo and Juliet. Interested people should report to the music room before the end of the week to receive information."

You saw Daniel's eyes widen only moments before he spoke up. "Hey," he waved at you. "You should audition!"

"Daniel, are you insane?"

He chuckled, "No, but I think you'd like it."

You tried arguing, but he wasn't taking no for an answer. "You're the one who said you didn't know what you wanted to do after you graduated. Doing this cannot hurt."

"Yeah, it can't hurt until I trip on my costumes and break my neck!"

"That rarely ever happens," he said exasperatedly. "Ok, how about this? You audition, and if you end up getting a role and actually doing the play, I'll give you fifty pounds."

You squinted. "Do you even have fifty pounds to give me?"

"Do you even have to ask," he feigned shock in the accusation? You gave a sour face before he truthfully answered. "Fine, I don't have it now. But I will by the time the play comes around."

"What do I get just for auditioning?"

"I'll convince my mum to make that cake you like."

"Fine."

"BUT!" he exclaimed. "You have to audition for Juliet."

"You're kidding?"

He laughed. "No, I'm not. You have to audition for Juliet."

"I hate you," you mumbled before sighing a whispered 'fine.'

He gave a toothy smile. "Then we have a deal."

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Auditions

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

You reluctantly walked onto the stage, Daniel's widening grin so visible in the audience. He said that he only put his name on the audition sheet so he could watch the auditions. He would've already been gone by the time it was his turn.

"Hello, My name is Y/n L/n, and I am auditioning for Juliet," your lips pressing into a straight line after saying the sentence.

You stammered through your first few lines. "Sh-Shall I speak ill of him— that is my husband?" You said with a laugh.

"Ah," you paused and clicked your tongue. "Poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name… When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it?"

You said your following line in an accusatory manner. "But wherefore, villain... didst thou kill my cousin?" you said, though your voice squealed trying to pronounce 'didst.' "That villain cousin would have killed my husband."

"Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring!" Your voice rose and fell several octaves. "Your tributary drops belong to woe, Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy." Fake tears spring to your eyes, your voice cracked, and you began slowly falling against an invisible wall.

You looked down at your paper for what to say next. "My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain; And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband. All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then?" You wiped your cheeks dramatically.

"Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death, That murd'red me. I would forget it fain;" your lips quivered, and you sucked in deep, heaving breaths before speaking your line.

"But O, it presses to my memory. Like damnèd guilty deeds to sinners' minds! 'Tybalt is dead, and Romeo--banishèd!" You shouted.

You stood back up in a startling jump, and with a proud smile, you said triumphantly, "And Scene!"

The directors and some students in the audience, especially Daniel, gave a round of applause before the director dismissed you.

You took the steps to the stage and sat next to Daniel as the director called the next student to audition.

"You were amazing! The director might as well have given you the role right then and there."

You laughed, "Hang on, charmer. There were a bunch of Juliet's who literally said that entire thing so… fluently. I stammered through the whole thing."

"But you showed more emotion than anyone else. You only had a week to prepare. The actual show will be like child's play."

"They want people who can memorize and recite. The emotion can be added later, but it's worth nothing if they forget their lines."

"There is such a thing called improvising for a reason," he reassured.

"Who in their right, bloody minds wants to improvise Shakespeare?"

He turned his head and chuckled before waving a five-pound note in front of your face. "Here, I got to go before they call me, but you earned this at least."

"Five pounds for being forced to audition for a stupid play so you can prove a point? Wow, you must really fancy me, huh, Sharman?" you said sarcastically.

"Goodbye, L/n," he whispered before sneaking out the back door of the auditorium.

"Alright, next up. Daniel Sharman!" The director shouted your friend's name a few more times before giving up.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Headmasters Office

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

A week after your audition, you were called to the headmasters' office. Thus is the cause of the curious looks from your classmates. Oohs and Aahs flooded your ears as you grabbed your bag and headed out the door to the front of the school.

When you got to the front of the building and went into the headmasters' office, you saw the Theatre director, Ms Parker, standing behind the desk. "Headmaster Leo allowed me to use his office to do this. Isn't that cool?"

Ms Parker was one of the younger teachers in school. She was twenty-four, and this was her first year teaching after receiving her bachelor's degree in education and a master's degree in music production. A fact she could astoundingly ramble about for fifteen minutes. As proven at the auditions.

"I didn't want to call you to the theatre room. That would be too predictable, correct?" You'd come to realize she was a very eccentric woman. "I have called you in here to inform you that you have been selected to perform in this year's play of Romeo and Juliet."

A wave of shock coursed through your body, and you were sure it reflected on your face. "Are you sure?"

"Darling, I'm positive!- your audition was totally spectacular! So brilliant-in fact- that I am completely sure in my choice to make you our female lead- Juliet!"

"What!" Your eyes widened into a blank stare. Your thoughts were running rampant in your mind. You thought that performing on the stage would be a breeze when you weren't the lead.

"Ms Parker, I didn't actually want the part of Juliet! It's just that my friend dared me to audition for Juliet! Is there no way I can get a smaller part? I'm no Juliet. The show would be ruined," you rambled.

The directors' facial expressions softened, "Darling, you are the only choice. None of the other people who auditioned can even compare to the amount of passion you produced in that audition. I am determined to have you as our Juliet."

You whimpered out an "Ok." Professors had a strange way of convincing you to do extra credit assignments or things that aren't necessary.

"We have a chemistry read for you and a few of our other choices for Romeo after school today. Do you need to contact a parent to let them know where you'll be?"

"Uh, yes, please."

After you made your call, you walked back to your classroom with shaky hands. The class period was almost over, but you had to tell Daniel that you had gotten a part in the show. Not just any part- THE PART!

You shuffled into the classroom reluctantly. All eyes were on you as every student had assumed you'd been in trouble. Either suspended, expelled, or told your parents were going to have a sit-down with the headmaster.

You took your seat next to Daniel before taking out a piece of paper and writing out a note, encompassing the words, "I got the part!"

You slid the sheet discreetly onto his desk. When he read it, his eyes widened, and he quietly moved his hands toward yours, beckoning for a high five.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

First Rehearsal

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

After the chemistry read, the role of Romeo was given to a kid named James Mercer-Allen got the part. Though it was more because the directors were starting to become tired.

The next day was the first rehearsal. Swimming season was last semester, so there was no clash in schedules with the play.

"Alright, this rehearsal is to get acquainted with the stage, your fellow actors, and directors," she insisted. "Now, let's introduce ourselves. Can our Romeo please stand up?"

James stood up and gave a brief introduction. You were called on next. You stated your name, "I was on the swim team last semester, and I'm in my thirteenth year. I hope I can do this role justice."

More students stood up to introduce themselves. The entire process took more than thirty minutes.

The next thing to happen was that the rest of the students were called to recite lines for various roles. The only parts that had been cast preliminarily were Romeo and Juliet.

You and James had sat on the wooden stools unless there was a scene going on that needed Romeo and/or Juliet.

By the end of the first rehearsal, the majority of the speaking roles were cast. You went home exhausted but not expecting the conversation that waited for you.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

The Talk

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

"We're moving?" you shouted at your parents from your seat across from them in the sitting room. "What do you mean we're moving."

"Honey, your dad got a job in the states, so we have to move," your mother argued.

"But what about school? No school will take me in the middle of the year, and it's my last year of secondary school. I don't want to spend the rest of my last year knowing nobody."

Your dad, the man of the hour, spoke up. "Dear, we're moving at the end of the year. After school ends."

"But- What about Uni?"

"You said you were taking a sabbatical year!"

"Yes, so I could intern in London!"

"Can't you intern in California?" Your mother whined.

"We're going to California? It's the furthest state?"

Your dad attempted to reassure you but failed. "Darling, it won't be that bad. Maybe you'll like it there more than you like it here!"

"I could never like anywhere more than I like it here!"

You agreed to go to your room and spent the rest of the day there. Later on, after you finished moping, you ringed up your closest friends to tell them you were moving. You did that until you were so tired you fell asleep on the phone with Sarah before you even called Daniel.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Confrontation

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

"Why am I hearing from everyone besides you that you're moving?" Daniel appeared out of thin air behind you, and the accusation was an assault on your conscience.

You could lie and tell him that you wanted to reveal that to him in person, or you could just tell him the truth- say you fell asleep. Mix-and-Match? You ended up just telling the truth. "I fell asleep when I was making some of my other calls. I was going to tell you, I swear!"

"Why didn't you call me first. I'm your best friend?"

"That's why! It was too hard. I kept putting it off and putting it off and putting it off because I didn't want to tell you, I don't want it to be true, and telling you of all people would make it feel real."

"Why can't you stay for Uni?"

"I already told my parents I was taking a gap year. I didn't apply to any colleges."

"Crap!" he sighed. "Ok, well, we're going to have to make the most of it. And! You're getting a going away party!"

"Daniel, I don't need-"

"No debate! You are getting a going away party!"

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Opening Night

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

Four months later, after all the rehearsals and memorizations of lines. After much running around the entire film department, it was finally opening night, and your nerves were shot.

You were scrambling all morning to find everything you needed. All your costumes were at the school, but you still needed to bring your black leotard, skin-coloured tights, and wear your hair in an up-do style.

You decided to do your skincare routine, but your panic got the best of you, and you forgot what every single product was used for.

Daniel came over and helped you get ready but found you practically hyperventilating.

Your parents drove you both to the theatre, and when Ms Parker told you that Daniel couldn't be backstage, you promptly told her that he was your emotional support. After much arguing, she finally let him backstage.

Around an hour before showtime, the director told Daniel that he had to go wait in the audience if he already bought his ticket or that he had to go do it now.

Before he left, he gave you a pep-talk. "Hey, so one time, I was in this play, and the idea was that I was expelled, and there was a piece of paper I had to give my 'mother,' but I lost it. So we had to improvise, but I couldn't find the paper, and I felt horrible. So just know, even if you forget your lines, you must improvise, and remember, it still probably won't compare to the embarrassment I felt that day. So you can laugh at my humiliation. "

You chuckled, "I will. Ok, go before you get in trouble."

"Ok, me, our parents and all your friends will be in the front row. I've already reserved the entire row. I brought a whole bag of jackets just for that reason!"

"You can't do that," you said in between cackles.

"For you, I'll do anything," he grinned.

A few hours later and the show was almost done. "What's here? A cup, closed in my true love's hand? Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end," you wept.

"O, churl! Drunk all and left no friendly drop to help me after? I will kiss thy lips; Haply some poison yet doth hang on them, to die with thine restorative." You leaned over James and let your hair fall to the side of your head to cover your face. You pulled back without actually kissing James.

"Thy lips are warm."

A whispery voice came from offstage, "Which way?" The cue for you to take the poison, which was actually cranberry juice.

"Yea, noise? Then I'll be brief. O happy dagger!" You grabbed the dagger and brought it near your chest. "This is thy sheath;" you drew the fake knife back three inches from your chest and stabbed it to where the bag of more cranberry juice was and punctured the bag. 'Blood' soaked through your dress. "There rust, and let me die." You fell dramatically onto the altar and waited for the scene to end as the crowd cheered.

After the show, you dashed into the crowd where your friends and family waited for you. Ovations and Applauses were passed, lauded boxes of chocolates and gorgeous roses were given.

When you got to Daniel, he practically tackled you with a hug. "I actually thought you died for a split second. The blood looked so real."

"Daniel, most people don't bleed that fast, do they?"

"I don't know but fear kicked in, and I couldn't make sense of anything."

You grinned and almost went to your parents before Daniel grabbed your arm. "You don't have a date to the Leavers ball, do you?"

"No, I don't. Why?"

He sighed. "Well, I was thinking that you could go with me. I don't have a date either."

You squinted, thinking there was some ulterior motive behind his actions. "Ok, I'll go with you if you give me the money you owe me before then."

"It's right here," he smiled.

Your face scrunched up, but you reluctantly agreed. You only had a month of school left, and you might as well spend it having fun with your friends.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

The Leavers Ball and the Getaway Party

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

You were dressed in a light blue, pleated, Mikado prom dress that cut off at mid-thigh. You had black wedges on your feet and a black pearl-beaded bracelet on your arm.

You were wearing a half-up, half-down style that framed your face and a silver necklace with a circle-shaped diamond.

You were sitting in the parlour when Daniel rang the doorbell. He was ten minutes late.

"Sorry," he said when your dad answered it. "I know I'm late. I was picking up Kat and James."

Kat and James were your and Daniel's respective friends who'd started last year after you and Daniel introduced them.

"Hi," you popped out of the shadows. "Alright, Mom, Dad, we're late, so we're just going to get goi-"

"Wait! I have to take pictures! Go get Kat and James."

"No, Mom. No pictures!"

"It's only right. I just want a few. We can take it outside."

You sighed but reluctantly caved into your mother's will.

The four of you took pictures outside of Daniel's Jeep Wrangler. You took ones with silly faces, just girls, just boys, and ones with all four of you before your parents allowed you to leave.

You were forty minutes late, and the ball was already in full swing by the time you got there.

You got on the dance floor immediately because one of your favourite songs was playing, but the DJ switched the song as soon as you found a decent spot. It was a slow song. You chuckled, and Daniel put his hands on your waist.

"Well, this is awkward."

A few minutes later, Daniel posed an interesting question.

"Did you know that I had a crush on you when you first came to school?"

"Uh, you stammered. "No, I didn't know that."

"Yeah, I did. It was short, though. Surface-level."

"Oh," you said. "Should I take offence to that?"

"What?" His eyes widened in realization with what he said. "No, that's not what I meant. You have an amazing personality. I just meant that… I just meant I like you more as a friend than to ruin that with any of those feelings."

"Oh, ok. You wouldn't have, though."

"I wouldn't?"

"No, everyone needs an ego boost every once in a while."

"Haha!"

"And besides, I've had feelings for you at one point too. But it was very cliche, so I tried to shake it as hard as I could."

"Oh?" He raised his eyebrows. "And did you?"

"Like I said, as hard as I could. If it's still there somewhere, it's buried very deep, so much so that I was embarrassed."

"Embarrassed to like me?"

"I mean embarrassed to try and make my life seem like some movie."

"Oh, well, if you did, it would've just made you that much better as an actress. Speaking of that, would you consider acting in the least?"

"Maybe, now that I'm leaving, it's basically the last thing I have to connect me to you."

"No," he said, pointing to your bracelet. "You have that."

You had forgotten that it was Daniel who gave it to you, but the realization brought a smile to your face. "Oh yeah, I'll never take it off."

Later on, long before the ball ended, you saw many of your friends leaving.

"Hey, are you ready to go?" Daniel approached you.

"Where is everyone going?"

He wriggled his eyebrows. "Afterparty!"

"But it's not over?"

"Quit being a party popper and just come with us, L/N!"

You gave in, something you did a lot, and you all started driving. When you got there, you realized you were at Daniel's house.

"The afterparty is at your house?" you asked.

"Well…" James answered.

Kat joined in. "It's really an afterparty!"

"This is your going away party!" Daniel finished.

"But I'm not going away for another month."

"Well, now you have an entire month for people to give you gifts and stuff, and you don't have to worry about the party!" He reasoned.

"But why did it have to be after the Leavers ball?"

"Because you're already in a dress, and it has to be a surprise! Surprise!" Kat exclaimed.

"Alright, fine!"

The entire night you partied and danced, and though you didn't drink alcohol, plentiful amounts of pop and mocktails were passed around. The music was a delight to your ears with all your favourite songs. There were chips and pizza with all your favourite toppings.

"This party is awesome!"

Daniel grinned. "Well, I am an amazing party planner if I do say so myself."

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Airport

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

Daniel's parents drove your family to the airport. Your parents had sold the car. Your dad would return in a week to close a deal on the house. Everything was official, and now you were leaving.

You got out of the car, and the tears forcefully began to fall.

"I'm really gonna miss you, jerk," you said disdainfully to Daniel.

He chuckled. "I'm going to miss you more."

"Impossible!"

He wiped the fallen tear from your eye, and for a moment, you could see every single multi-coloured speck in his eyes and noticed how sometimes they looked blue, and at others, they looked grey or green.

You noticed the curvature of his smile and the chisel of his jawline.You saw the hurt in his eyes that said, 'why do you have to go? You're killing me,' and wanted to never move from that position.

He continued to rub the tears that fell onto your cheek, and the sad moment was as sheltered as it could be. You felt safe with him, in his arms, just looking at his face and being reminded of how he comforted you in a place that felt as familiar as Oz felt to Dorothy.

"What am I gonna do without you?" you whispered.

"Get at least one acting job, get an assistant and an agent, I'll do the same thing, and then either one of us has our assistants reach out to our agents, so we get back in touch in case we ever lose touch."

He sounded so grave that you couldn't help but laugh. "That's assuming I do become an actress, Daniel."

"You're right," he whined. "But don't forget me."

"I promise."

And you tried to keep that promise. Throughout your first year, you interned at UCLA, working in the lab. You then applied to go to school there, and you still tried to keep Daniel in your mind. Maintaining a social life on campus combined with schoolwork already wasn't easy. However, you still wouldn't let yourself forget your best friend.

It wasn't until you entered your senior year and you were about to graduate that he started to wane in your memories. The things you did together became obsolete as new friends and memories replaced the old. The things he taught you were thrown out to make space for the new lessons you learned each day.

Even when you did become an actress, you never really remembered why you decided to. You remembered that your friend pushed you to do that play, but it was almost ten years ago, and for the life of you, you couldn't remember his name.

But you did do it, first as an extra, then a body double, and then you started getting l roles on smaller shows. But your big break was getting a quasi-lead role on the spin-off of a big television show, The Walking Dead. For two years, you enjoyed going to conventions and playing the complex character, Valeria Bishop, and you thought you had it all figured out.

But life has a funny way of coming full circle and throwing you a curveball that knows you off course and changes your life.

#Daniel Sharman x reader #daniel sharman fic #Daniel Sharman imagine #Daniel Sharman fluff #Daniel Sharman angst #very angsty #ftwd imagine #twd imagine #troy otto imagine #dylan obrien imagine #that last one is for exposure #I have no regrets

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lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks · 3 years

Note

In relations to my last ask, how would you write Danny revealing his ghost identity to Sam and Tucker? Set somewhere in the month between Danny being vaporized by the ghost portal and the opening episode.

sorry for sitting on this one for a couple days, I didn't have the spoons to go into the answer I felt it deserved

I know there have been fics and aus about Sam and Tucker not being there during the accident, but it's been so long since I read one so I guess it's time for my take on it!

Danny would have been Freaking Out after it happened, like he sees his reflection and realises that something fuckin' weird absolutely just happened to him, he might not twig at first exactly what it was because he figures he could be hallucinating or his vision could have been fucked up by the light in the portal, it isn't anything serious right?

the power surge from the portal would have alerted his parents who come down into the lab and they go absolutely buck wild with joy that the portal finally worked!! and oh my god Danny you weren't standing too close to it right?

Danny's thinking 'why the fuck aren't they saying anything about the white hair and glowing eyes' but he glimpses back at his reflection and it's totally normal again, okay so maybe it was a hallucination okay that's good

his dad is pretty much doing a victory dance while his mum is scanning him for any contamination, she says his readings are abnormally high and they should keep an eye on him and run some decontamination procedures

boy goes back to his room feeling pretty shaken up, he probably calls Sam and Tucker immediately to tell them what happened, he might mention that he was seeing things after coming out of the portal but everything seemed to be fine now, he feels really cold tho

his parents pull him out of school for a few days to keep an eye on him but nothing especially unusual happens, he mentions to his parents that he feels cold all the time and they keep checking his temperature and ectoplasmic readings

it's an unpleasant few days, he has to scrub his skin almost raw in the shower and wash his hair three times in a row every night, as well as drink a fuckton of water and take a diuretic to flush out his system, they make him take some kinda medication they developed that's supposed to keep him from absorbing any more radiation than he already has, it makes him really sick but they keep making him take it

but in the end despite feeling incredibly unwell his readings DO go down and his temp DOES climb back up so the Fentons breath a sigh of relief and just tell Danny to make sure he tells them if he feels sick again or if anything unusual happens

what they DON'T realise, is the treatments worked to flush what was currently in his system and on his skin, but it didn't do anything for the fact that he was now producing his own ectoplasm, which very readily began to replenish itself after the initial purge

he goes back to school and tells his friends all about his terrible last few days, and suddenly Sam is looking at him in alarm and whispers 'dude your eyes are glowing'

Tucker looks over like 'what do you mean? they look fine'

'they were absolutely glowing! like just for a second they were-'

'bright green?' Danny asks, mildly panicking

he tells them exactly what he saw in the mirror when he came out of the portal, and they finally start wondering if maybe it wasn't a hallucination

they go hide in some empty classroom somewhere and discuss what should happen next, Tucker thinks Danny should tell his parents, Danny does not want to go through another few days of decontamination procedures, Sam sides with Danny, mostly because she's generally anti-parent in general but also because she thinks that the Fentons' methods sound dodgy as hell because of how sick the medication made him

'I mean have they even tested those meds properly? how do they know it won't make him worse?'

it's at this point that the school-bell rings and Danny falls through the desk he was leaning on

Sam and Tuck think he just slipped, Danny also thinks he just slipped, but Danny also noticed that he felt really weird and tingly for a moment there

in class his pen keeps slipping out of his hand, in science he drops two beakers and is barred from handling anything fragile for the rest of class, he finds himself feeling weirdly lightheaded and motion sick at random moments, his stomach flipping and his feet feeling almost like they aren't completely touching the floor

he doesn't know that it's his body very momentarily ignoring gravity, not enough to make him float completely but just enough to make him feel weirdly unanchored to the ground

Tucker is very much convinced that Danny should tell his parents about this, Sam thinks he should probably go to a hospital instead, Danny thinks telling his parents is probably a good idea, but he's highkey terrified of them making him take that medication again, they kept assuring him that it's harmless to humans and the sickness is just a reaction to the ectoplasm in his body, but he knew that each time they made him take it he felt more and more like whatever was in it shouldn't be in him

so in the end he decides that he'll wait to see if the side effects go away on their own, so far they don't seem to be hurting him, and he'll take being lightheaded and dropping stuff constantly over taking those meds and feeling like he's got pins sticking into every nerve in his body

(like it was Bad, kid's lowkey traumatised)

and then in class he falls right through his chair, nobody sees what happened, he was at his desk and now he's on the floor, everyone laughs it off but after school Danny drags his friends around behind the gym to tell them what happened

he is freaking out, totally panicking and that's when Sam and Tucker notice his appearance change, it's wonky at first, flashes of light keep sparking off him and his eyes are glowing on and off, his hair is flashing streaks of white and his clothes keep shifting into something black

Sam snaps him out of it with a slap, but instead of going back to normal his whole body flashes and suddenly he's in his ghost form

he is SUPER confused about why he's in his hazmat suit again and why the colours are all wrong and Sam and Tuck have to tell him 'uh dude, that hallucination definitely wasn't a hallucination'

then a football comes flying past and some jock chases it behind the gym and see them standing there and is like 'what are you two losers doing back here'

and Sam and Tuck are like 'two?' and they realise that Danny isn't there anymore, the jock grabs the ball and runs off again

then Danny reappears

cue all three of them freaking out

the fact that he's fighting ghosts without hesitation in the beginning of the first ep probably means it isn't the first time it's happened, he's probably down in the lab with his friends, showing them the portal and telling them exactly how his accident happened, when something comes flying out

it immediately attacks them and Danny probably goes instinctively into protective mode, he transforms and lobs a punch at one of the fuckers, and it hurts it, a lot, he grabs it and hauls it around, throwing it back into the portal

Sam and Tuck are just like 'holy shit dude you kicked ass' and Danny's just like 'uhhhh I dunno what happened guys but that felt really super cool'

he turns back to normal as his dad comes downstairs and gets all excited about the three kids being interested in the ghost portal, cue opening of the first episode

at this point Danny is pretty convinced he's going to tell his dad, but Jack doesn't give him a chance to say much before going off on his monologue

and then the portal opens up again and the ghost comes back, this time with friends, Danny barely thinks before he's throwing himself at the ghosts, kicking their asses and lobbing them back into the portal, he turns around completely expecting to have to explain himself and finds his dad SOMEHOW hadn't turned around even once during the whole fight and by a miracle didn't notice anything unusual

Danny loses his nerve and transforms back without telling his dad anything, and then we have the events of Mystery Meat where he's still struggling to control his powers and whether or not to tell his parents

soooo yeah that's my take ~ hope you enjoyed

#asks #danny phantom #lula's headcanons

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marvelmana · 3 years

Text

-Mumza goddess of death prompt

TW: suicide attempt

So after Wilbur's revival Dream with his God compex realizes that the power to bring people back to life isn't enough. So while Wilbur prepares to break Dream out of prison, Dream sits down to remember what more was in the revive book. His eyes shoot wide open as he remembers a short but powerful ritual to summon the goddess of death herself.

So after Wilbur breaks him out somehow. Wilbur and Dream are met by the rest of the SBI family. They didn't come together. Tommy came to stop Wilbur and maybe kill Dream. Techno and Phil just came to get Wilbur so Sam doesn't kill him. As always with this family they start arguing and Dream runs away. They follow him to the L'manhole where he manages to preform the full ritual to summon the goddess of death. Now all the others are terrified because they don't know what Dream did. All they know is that the nice and chill night suddenly became the worst storm they've ever experienced and a weird portal looking thing has started to form on the glass. Tommy starts yelling at Dream to stop. Philza aswell because Dream doesn't know what power he's messing with. Dream explains that he knows exactly what power he's messing with and tells them what or...rather who he has summoned. To Dream's surprise everyone but Tommy seems relived that he's summoning the goddess of death. Tommy's worried because he has no idea that he's the son of the goddess. Before any of them manages to say anything a dark figure emerges from the portal with dark wings as she flies up to the night sky. The wind that had made it hard to stay on your feet suddenly stops and the portal disapears. Dream does his evil laughter and then does his evil monologue but gets cut off by the goddess of death striking him down with one hand and pressuring her foot against his neck. Phil watches her and falls in love all over again. But before there can be a wholesome family reunion Tommy draws his sword out and points it at the goddess' neck.

"Who are you!? What do you want!?" He yells demanding answers.

The goddess melts at the sight of her youngest. He's so cute with that diamond sword, thinking he's so cool. When she doesn't answer Tommy gets frustrated and yells at the top of his lungs

"ANSWER ME!!!"

He was meant to intimidate the goddess but his yell only comes out as a broken cry. The goddess' heart breaks as she sees all the pain and frustration in her youngest son's eyes. There's something in his eyes that is not supposed to be there. There's something that's not meant to be seen in the eyes of a 16 year old. Before she can ask, Phil steps forward.

"It's been a long time, love" he says and takes off his hat.

The goddess smiles at her angel.

"About 16 years, but who's counting?" She jokes completely unbothered by the blade at her throat.

Then the twins comes in to have a small talk with their mother. None of them mentions that she's their mother. Tommy slowly takes away his sword and starts backing away. He takes one look at the unconscious green man by the goddess' feet and then at his brothers and father. This is their business. He should get going. He only gets a few steps away when one of his family members ask where he's going. He tells them that he's going home. The issue with Dream seems resolved and they're all busy with and old friend Tommy doesn't know. At first the goddess is confused as to why her youngest doesn't recognise her. But then again. When he left the end he was only a few months old. The twins had been just around 7. The goddess, who's name was Kristin smiles gently at Tommy and slowly walks up to him. She tells him that she's his mother. Tommy looks at his father and brothers who nods confirming. Normally you'd think Tommy would be excited to meet his mum. But when all his family has brought him is pain, he's not excited to see what a new family member who's also a goddess, can do. So he does the most rational thing he can think off. He runs. He runs with fear of his life. Tommy doesn't wanna die again. The mere thought terrifies him. So he runs, hoping to find someone to help him, anyone. Tubbo, Ranboo, Puffy hell he'd even take the help from Sam now. As he runs past his house he looks behind him to see 4 individuals chasing him. He starts screaming for help as he jumps out the edge by the bench with a water bucket in hand. Kristin who doesn't know Tommy's incredible skill with water MLGs panics and dives after him with her wings. She catches Tommy before he reaches the ground. Tommy starts squirming in her grip hoping to get away. Kristin tries to reassure him that she's got him. Tommy begs her not to hurt him. Telling her that he won't get in her way, that if she just lets him go she'll never have to see him again. Kristin feels as someone shot through her heart with an arrow. And she tells Tommy in what she thinks is a comforting voice, that she's never gonna let him go and that he's safe. Tommy's beyond terrified but lucky for him Tubbo and Ranboo is on a walk towards them. Tubbo and Ranboo immediately gets their armour on and orders Kristin to put Tommy down and that if she hurts him, she's gonna regret it. Kristin gets put off guard by the sudden company. Tommy uses that to his advantage and gets out of her grip and runs past Tubbo and Ranboo who's like protecting wall in front of him. Wilbur tells them to fuck off and that it's a family buisness. That just angers Tubbo even more.

"Family buisness!!!?" He yells almost in shock "You gotta be kidding me! Tommy just started healing after everything Dream did to him and after everything YOU did to him!! Why can't you just let him rest!?" Tubbo yells in anger

That's when Kristin's had enough. She demands an explanation and Tubbo just answers "I'm not gonna explain shit. Who do you think you are?" To which Krstin stretches out her wings and says in a lower tone

"I am the goddess of death. Protector of the end. And his mother" she says and looks at Tommy.

Tubbo and Ranboo looks back at Tommy who just shruggs. Because honestly he has no idea if it's true or not. But Tubbo and Ranboo decides to play along. They answer with a bit of attitude what has happened to Tommy since he came to this server. Everything from the disc war, to L'manbrug, to exile, to the egg trying to kill him and then celebrating his death, to what happened in the prison. After everything is explained the goddess of death is furious. She shoots up in the air and Phil has a very troubled face expression. When asked what's wrong he tells them.

"A father's rage is strong enough to conquer the world. But a mother's rage is stronger"

Kristin is mad at the server for driving her family apart and hurting her baby. So with the power within her she pulls up the egg and it's roots, along with the enire prison, Eret with his castle and Dream's unconscious body. The storm comes back, this time with thunder and rain. Tommy sees this and is terrified. But he's also worried about Eret. It's true he wronged him but Eret has changed.

"We gotta stop her!" Tommy yells.

"She's the goddess of death, you can't stop her!" Techno yells.

But it's no use. Tommy grabs Ranboo's trident. He launches himself in the air and jumps from bits of earth and structures in the air. His main focus is to help Eret out. Eret is ready for his doom. He knows he's not been the best person. But before that happens he hears someone call out his name. It's Tommy. Tommy gives Eret the trident and tells him to get out of here. He hears distant screams of the eggpire and the egg. Tommy doesn't care that much for the egg. But as annoying as Badboyhalo is with his no swearing rule, he's a good guy and Tommy do have good memories with the him. So with no trident Tommy jumps between the rising blocks to get to the people. He sees Dream's unconscious body and for a moment he thinks about it but then shakes his head. Dream is not his priority. Tommy doesn't see himself as a hero. But he's not one to simply watch someone die if he can do something about it. Tubbo knows this. He curses when Eret gets down on the ground and tells them what Tommy did for him. Tubbo looks to Ranboo who nods. He brings up a water splash potion and splashes himself. His eyes widen and a foreign language comes out of his mouth. Tubbo grabs ahold of his husband before he can teleport away without him. Ranboo has gone complete silent. If you can even call him Ranboo anymore. Tubbo has only seen Ranboo like this once. It was terrifying since the half enderman hybrid had been walking towards Tubbo's cabin in snowchester where Micheal was. Ranboo had been covered in water scars and yet he wasn't talking. Just calmly walking towards Micheal. Before he could get there though Ranboo collapsed and woke up with no memory of how he got to Tubbo's cabin. So now, on a floating piece of earth, in the eye of the storm Tubbo had to trust whatever this version of Ranboo was. He called for Tommy but got no response. Suddenly the foreign language comes out of Ranboo as he points with his free hand to some egg rootes. Tommy's jumping between the broken peices towards peoplenof the eggpire.

"Let's go and help that idiot out" Tubbo says and Ranboo teleports them behind Tommy.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!?" Tubbo yells which scares Tommy. He turns around and smiles at the sight of maybe the two only people he trusts.

"I could ask you the same!" He yells back to be heard over the load weather.

"We came to help you. Ranboo can you get those guys back on the ground!?" Tubbo yells

Ranboo doesn't say anything but when he teleports closer and grabs badboyhalo and Hannah Tubbo knows he got through to him. Tommy's confused at how strange Ranboo was acting. Ranboo's not much of a fighter but still here he was, standing tall. And how the hell can he teleport without enderpearls? Tommy decides that there's a better time to ask. Instead him and Tubbo keeps the rest of the eggpire safe. During that the egg starts speaking to Tubbo and Tubbo is obviously trying to shut it out but it's hurting him. So once Ranboo gets back Tommy is quick to push his best friend onto his husband and yell at Ranboo to get him to safety. Tubbo doesn't get a chance to object before he's suddenly on the ground again. He struggles against Ranboo and begs his husband to take him back. Tommy knows what's keeping Ranboo from coming back. He can see it. So instead of wasting time, he makes a waterfall with his only waterbucket and puts the rest of the eggpire in it. In his head he repeats the same three words over and over again "Please don't drown". When the people is as safe as they can be in a situation like this Tommy turns to his mother who has definitely grown a couple of feet. Tommy gulps and watches as Dream's body literally explodes in front of his mum's dark eyes.

"Hey!!" He yells and draws his sword again.

Kristin turns to see where the voice comes from and her gace immediately goes soft. But it turns confused when she can't see the rest of the wronguns.

"I'm not gonna let you hurt anyone else!" Tommy says with his blade in front of him

"The mortals needs to be taught a lesson. You'll come to understand when you're older. You're just a mere child" she says calmly

Tommy smirks. He may be young, but he's not stupid. Tommy knows the blade would do nothing to his mother. So he takes a deep breath and holds the sword against his own throat. He doesn't want this. But he won't let his mother hurt people because of him.

"I may be young! But I have seen wars, I have witnessed my best friend's execution, I have been exiled, I have been tortured and somewhat manipulated. I'm not a child anymore!!" He yells

"You wouldn't. I can see the fear in your eyes son. I can feel it. You don't want this" Kristin says but her voice is everywhere as she gets closer to her son.

"I am not a child. I'm a soldier without a mission. Which makes me desperate. So if I have to die to protect them that's something I'll have to do" Tommy says and stares at the eyes of the beast

"I would never hurt your fatber or brothers" Kristin reassures

"I wasn't talking about those idiots. Listen this place is a hell hole! And sometimes it's hard to get out of bed. But you know what!? It's my home. You've just killed the guy who were the source of my problems. You've done enough!!" Tommy yells and pushes the sword closer to his throat. He can feel it slowly digging into his skin. The goddess of death panics and does a quick movement with her finger and before Tommy knows it he's flying in the air, unable to move an inch. His sword is still in his hand but he can feel an invisable force trying to take it from him.

"Tommy. Drop it!" Kristin hisses

Tommy won't drop it. He could see the fear in her eyes once the blade was pressed against his throat. If he could just move his arm he could put the sword back at his throat. But he can't the force pulling away his sword is strong. But Tommy's always been a fighter. He actually manages to withstand the force but doesn't notice the goddess shrinking in sice and flying up to him to grab the sword herself. After taking the sword she throws it down and stares at her youngest. One thing's for sure, her family is not safe here.

Good ending: Tommy and the others talks Kristin down and she goes back to the end but visits every now and then

Bad ending: Kristin sees how much this place is hurting her baby and the rest of her family. So she takes them to the end where they can't leave. Phil would've been able to, if it wasn't for one of his wings being broken.

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btsmosphere · 3 years

Text

Sparkle | JJK

~summary:

Jungkook may have been planning a little something... a powercut is only a small barrier

Jungkook x female!reader

~word count: 2.5k

~roommates au, friends to lovers, getting together, fluff

Rating: g

Warnings: irresponsible milk drinking(?), tons of fluff

~a/n: so I am taking part in a bingo writing challenge with @btsholidaybingo and this is the first of my bingo squares: ‘xmas lights’!! It’s a really fun challenge and I am working on a lot more to come!

At this time of night, when it’s not really night but it’s too dark to still be day, you can enjoy the Christmas lights. From your window, it feels as if you can see the whole city – your house is right at the top of the hill.

Right now, when you can turn your own light off and admire the multicoloured constellations sprawled across the valley, it’s nice. However, when you go to bed it’s a different story. In the darkness of your room at night, it’s all too easy for the festive glow to sneak around your curtains and keep you awake.

Jungkook’s cooking at the moment, so you don’t want to go out and see what kind of horrors are going on in your kitchen.

At least it means he’s taken his music with him. That’s the thing about Jungkook: he’s always surrounded by music. And really, you don’t mind it. In fact, it’s something you’ve come to love. It’s reassuring, knowing another living person is just next door even if you’re snowed under with work and haven’t seen him all day.

And if you haven’t seen Jungkook, it is a bad day indeed.

But at this time of night, when it’s not really night but it’s too dark to still be day, you will take the peace and enjoy the Christmas lights.

Blinking, you realise you zoned out. The lights were floating in your unfocussed vision, but you soon pulled your attention back in. Sweeping your eyes once more over the cityscape, you noticed a darker section.

Then another patch of lights blinked off.

Vaguely, your memory reminded you that was what had jerked you to attention a moment ago. Lights cutting out. It felt like they should merely flicker, and you watched, feeling as if you were in mid-air, waiting for the inevitable moment of meeting the ground again.

But instead, a whole new square of the city fell into darkness.

And then, suddenly, you were blinking, eyes protesting at the newfound dark you had been submerged in. You were frozen, for a second.

Then you whipped around, as if you would find something coming up behind you. Nonsense, really. Your room had already been in darkness to let you watch the lights.

Walking across the space with nothing but muscle memory, your hand stretched out, hesitantly groping for the light switch. When your fingers stumbled across it, you flicked it.

Nothing.

With a sigh, you flipped the switch back off and stuck your head from your bedroom door.

“Kook?”

Your voice came softer than you expected, probably not reaching down the hall. Just as you cleared your throat, the concerning sound of something clattering to the floor interrupted you.

Eyebrows shooting up, you went straight to investigate.

“Kook!” you called into the dark kitchen. As you squinted, you could make out a human-sized shape on the floor, “Are you okay?”

“I think the power went out,” his voice returned.

Though you rolled your eyes, a smile sprung irresistibly to your face.

“Yeah, I had noticed,” you chuckled, “do you need some help-?”

Stepping into the space, it seems your calculations were off. Jungkook was a lot closer than you had expected and your leg hit him, tripping you up. But before you could topple over, Kook’s hands materialised at your hips, pushing you upright again.

“Woah, hey,” he laughed breathlessly, “careful.”

Clambering up from his knees to stand in front of you, you could hear the charming smile he was flashing at you rather than see it. Flustered, you stepped back and away from his hold. For a moment longer, he seemed to forget himself before he dived back down to retrieve the bowl he had dropped.

“Right, well, er,” you struggled to collect your thoughts, “don’t open the fridge until the power comes back. Do we have any candles, or anything-“

“Wait, Y/N, I just started cooking! I need to put everything back in the fridge. What if I open it really fast?”

“I don’t know…” you admitted.

Standing side by side in the dark, staring at the fridge for some sort of answer, you never felt more like a student. Which, of course, you were, but you hadn’t felt this clueless about something since the first time you did your own washing in first year.

“Well, I already cooked the bacon,” Jungkook said, “so it’s really just the milk and cheese.”

“I suppose you could risk opening the fridge,” you shrugged.

“Maybe…” he was chewing his lip. You knew he was.

Sighing, you spun on your heel and headed towards the door again.

“I’m going to go and see if we have any candles, or something.”

Back in your room, you rummaged blindly in your drawer for your phone. Often, as today, you stored it in there to avoid getting distracted by it when you had work to do.

Thankfully, it lit up, but boasted pitifully low charge. You just had to hope it would last long enough for you to find an alternative light source.

Pressing the button for the torch, you started at your wardrobe, wondering if you had any candles left over from birthday presents tucked away. None there, or in your desk or underneath your bed. Resurfacing from between the dusty boxes you kept under there, you slumped back against your bed.

Casting your eye fruitlessly around your room once more, you heaved yourself to your feet.

“Kook, can I go look in your room?” you called, walking back down to the kitchen.

Instead of a response, though, you were met with a spluttering sound. Entering the room, your torch illuminated Kook, hunched over with a milk bottle in one hand. His other was covering his mouth.

“What are you doing now?” you asked, incredulous.

Lifting his head, he coughed once more, sending a single drop of milk down his chin. His shirt was also spattered with it. Tilting you head, you raised your eyebrows.

“Please tell me you’re not chugging our milk.”

“You said not to open the fridge,” he mumbled weakly.

“Oh my god…” you sighed. Unfortunately, you couldn’t help the sudden burst of laughter that overtook you when he gave you full puppy-dog eyes.

“You’re a mess, Jeon Jungkook,” you smiled, “go and get another sweater.”

“This is the only one you haven’t stolen!” he protested.

Biting your lip, you looked bashfully down at the large black jumper you currently had on. Maybe he was right.

A second afterwards, your phone light drastically dimmed. There it stayed for a moment longer as you met Kook’s eyes, before you were both sent back into darkness.

“Ugh,” you groaned, “okay. You can have this jumper, but you need to take that one off. And then we need to find some lights.”

Knowing you were under the cover of darkness, you lifted Jungkook’s sweater over your head and held it out for him. Standing in only your bra and jeans, you noticed the effects of the heating being down.

“Kook,” you shook the jumper in what you hoped was his direction, “take it, come on. I’m cooold.”

“S-sorry,” he stammered, fabric soon leaving your hand.

Trekking back through the hallway, Kook following you this time, you parted ways to go into your respective rooms. You made your way to your wardrobe again with arms outstretched and felt around, picking the first jumper you came into contact with.

“Tada!”

The shout came as you had just put one arm into the sweater. Jumping around, you were met with a bundle of lights and a beaming Jungkook lit up behind them.

“Oh- sorry,” his eyes suddenly grew very round and he turned his back before you could blink.

Tugging the jumper on with haste, you cleared your throat.

“You found lights, then?”

“Yeah, um,” he looked tentatively over his shoulder to confirm it was safe before turning to face you again, “my mum sent up Christmas decorations, remember?”

“Oh! I didn’t realise,” you said, beaming nonetheless, “how come we haven’t put them up yet?”

“Uh, just didn’t have the time, I guess,” he replied as you scooped up a battery pack and began untangling the fairy lights attached to it.

While you worked, a cute frown making its way onto your face as you fought against the knotted wires, Jungkook just watched you through the mass of glowing lights. At last, you got the end free, your victory dance shaking him from his stupor.

“Do you know any card games?” you asked, draping the string of lights around your neck as you did so.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“That’s what people do in power cuts, right?” you brushed past him.

“Um… I guess it is,” Jungkook followed you through to the living room.

Making a start by placing your string of lights along the back of the big sofa, you waited for Jungkook to join in. He was being awfully quiet. After a few moments, he did get the idea and placed the whole luminescent bunch onto the middle sofa cushion, beginning work on your vision.

“God, how many of these are there?” you laughed dryly when you pulled out the third battery pack.

“No idea,” he grimaced, “I thought you liked Christmas lights anyway?”

“I do,” you conceded, “I think they’re working better than candles would have, too.”

Eventually, the two of you had cocooned your living space in the lights. The nest of space between your sofa, rug and chairs was bathed in the warm white light. Stepping back, you couldn’t help but smile.

It was still too quiet, though.

“Are you alright?” you asked quietly.

“Hmm? Yeah,” Jungkook spoke, standing to join you observing your hard work.

“You just seem quiet,” you mumbled.

As if to prove your point, Jungkook let silence elapse between you. But, like always with you two, it was comfortable.

“Cards?” he prompted after a while.

“Oh, yes,” you remembered, tearing your eyes from the scene in front of you to the boy at your side, “do we… own a pack of cards?”

Lips parting in thought, he tilted his head to one side.

“We don’t, do we?”

At the same time, you both grinned, laughing softly. The sight of his smile only served to make yours wider.

“Blankets?” he proposed instead.

You quickly agreed. On your return to the living room, you laughed out loud, finding Jungkook holding out a wine glass full of milk for you.

“I could grate some cheese for dinner but that’s just depressing,” he gave a small smile.

Laughing loudly, you made a show of swirling the milk around your cup and sniffing at it like the tasters on tv, before sipping it.

However, Jungkook’s laughter cut off as he sunk down beside you, his fingers fidgeting around the stalk of his own glass.

“Kook, what’s going on?” you gently elbowed him, “you’re so quiet.”

“I, er,” he freed a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, “how about some music?”

“Yeah, okay,” you frowned, “but, Kook, the power’s out-“

“Just wait here, okay?”

And then he was gone before you could protest, practically running from the room.

Was something seriously wrong? You knew you had been busy lately, but you always tried to make time to see your flatmate. In all honesty, he was the highlight of your day, and you had to stop yourself from fantasising about being more than friends…

But right now, you were worried. Right now, it seemed like he needed a friend, but since when had he started acting like this?

Before you could get up and follow him, though, you heard his footsteps returning. Not a moment later, he rounded the corner with a guitar in his hand. Definitely not what you had been expecting.

“I didn’t know you played guitar,” you said. It surprised you; for all that you could hear his music from your room, you would have thought you’d have heard if he had been playing the guitar.

“I’ve been learning,” he didn’t quite meet your eyes, shuffling his feet.

“Okay,” you spoke slowly.

While you waited, he walked forwards and sat on one of the chairs facing you.

Just before he began, he looked up. Somehow your heart melted at his big eyes, heart already in your mouth for some reason.

And then his face was lit up in profile again, soft glow highlighting his features. As you gazed at him, unable to look away, his fingers began to pick out a soft tune. For someone so modest, he was incredibly skilled. Watching and listening in awe, your heart nearly burst when he started singing too.

His voice, though he sang softly, clearly a little nervous, floored you. And the words… he was singing about love, about a beautiful girl that made him happy, a girl he wanted to stay happy.

In your head, you had the privilege of imagining that girl was you.

All too soon, the song came to a close.

Staring at him, you held your breath to the last second before he relaxed, lowering his hand and putting his guitar to one side.

“That was beautiful, Kook,” you breathed.

But instead of responding, he stood, taking your gaze with him as he crossed to sit beside you on the sofa. A small smile curved his lips, a ghost of a laugh falling between them.

“I had a whole night planned out,” he waved his hand, “I was making carbonara, and-and I had all these decorations waiting in my room, I know you love them…”

While he took a deep breath, yours was completely stuck in your throat.

“I’m sorry about the, uh, the milk,” he chuckled, “it’s not exactly romantic, but… I was wondering if you wanted to be my girlfriend?”

Finally having forced the words out, he looked nervously up at you with glistening eyes, no doubt thanks to your magical setup. He watched with that unwavering gaze as you tried desperately to form words in your head, simultaneously trying to process if you were in the real world at all.

“Please answer,” he whispered.

Until then you hadn’t noticed how impossibly close to each other you were. Until his words brushed against your lips.

Suddenly your brain caught up with itself, deciding this was real after all.

“O-of course,” you rushed out, tongue momentarily darting to your lips, “yes, yes!”

“Yes?” he repeated, eyes widening more, if that was possible, seeming in total disbelief.

With sudden bravery, you surged forwards, pressing your lips to his. Melting into the kiss, you felt his hands float up to your waist, hesitant at first until you kissed him harder, pulling him forwards with your hands fisted in the sweater you had recently given up.

Now he was kissing back with equal measures of hunger and tenderness, hands holding you firmly.

When you broke apart, exhilarated and reluctant to let each other go, you let your forehead fall against his.

“Yes.”

The grin he awarded you was brighter than all the lights around you. And later that night when the city burst into light again, barging past your curtains to interrupt your darkness, neither of you paid it any mind.

Hope you enjoyed! Please reblog if you did💜xx

@aianloveseven @preciouschimine

Contact me to be tagged in new work!

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citydreamgrls · 3 years

Text

summer luvin’

fred weasley x fem! reader

words: 6,418

a/n: this is my first fic on tumblr, i’m usually on wattpad (J-myhope) but decided to move onto here for my weasley / harry potter fanfics. hope you enjoy :))) (also sorry it’s so long // i got carried away)

warnings: swearing (?)

When I had gone home for the summer, I had promised Hermione I would write to her everyday while she was at the burrow with Ron and his family. Which I did do, but what I didn’t realise was that she would be so quick to invite me there herself. It wasn’t even a week until the invites turned into pleads, and then they were more like threats.

Ginny has gone to a camp for the month, I need you here y/n please or I swear I’ll hex all your homework next year I mean it, she had written, making me laugh at the breakfast table. Come to think of it, why was Hermione willingly spending her summer with the Weasleys and Harry?

“Something funny?” my muggle father asked over his morning newspaper, the hand with his coffee in disappearing behind its pages every few seconds.

“Just a friend from school dad,” I played it off, knowing he wouldn’t approve of me mentioning magic in his house. At least not since him and my witch mother divorced.

“I was thinking dad…” I started. He peered over the paper with a disapproving look, knowing those words meant I had a plan of some sorts. “Since you’re busy with work, maybe I could spend the next two weeks at a friends house before I go to mum’s house?”

He stayed silent, the glasses that once sat firm against his face beginning to slip down his nose. I waited in anticipation as he mulled over my offer.

“This friend. I’m guessing they’re like your mother, yes?” He spat.

“Well yes, but they’re responsible. I could get Mrs Weasley to send you a letter herself promising that I’ll be in safe hands.”

“Why must you continue that nonsense, don’t you see how it tore your mother and I apart?” He huffed, finally putting everything down on the table and focusing on me.

“It wasn’t magic that made mum leave you.” I snarled, sick of him pinning the blame on her.

“How dare you accuse me y/n. I can keep you here all summer if you insist on acting like such a child.”

“Ah yes what a great idea, keep me here to rot while you work day and night. That’s a real punishment father, at least you can do one thing right.”

“Leave then!” He bellowed, pushing away his chair and standing up.

In that second I realised I had yet to see my father in anything but a suit since I’d come home from school. He had become so enthralled in work that it had pushed away everyone he had once loved.

“Go see your silly little friends, or your mother, I couldn’t care less.”

With that he picked up his briefcase and started to open the front door. I stared as he turned back to me with a look of fear on his face, but it went as quickly as it had appeared. “Just don’t you dare come back to me when your paradise burns down.”

The door slammed behind him, but I wasn’t bothered. I could win him over, as cold hearted as he acted towards me, I always could. This wasn’t our first fight, nor would it be our last. He was just lashing out, and he would apologise in a day or two. I just had to move on from it in the meantime.

Immediately I wrote a letter to Hermione to tell her I was ‘allowed’ to come and sent it off with my little barn owl Canon. I packed my things in a hurry and sat on my case at the back door, with the realisation that I had no way to actually get to the Weasley’s burrow. An hour passed with my case still waiting for me at the door as I made endless cups of tea in nervous anticipation. While I was sipping on my fourth I heard a screech by the window. Little Canon was sat with another letter in his beak.

“Good boy” I cooed and took it from him, opening it up as I ruffled his feathers. “Quick, back in your cage in case dad comes home.” He squawked and did as he was told.

The letter was short, but told me all I needed to know.

We’ll be there at 6pm muggle time to get you, wait in the garden. Love, Mione x

I smiled and hid my case behind the shed, hoping I could sneak out without dad noticing. But of course, lady luck was not in my favour. He came home at 5, frowning at the way I sat at the kitchen table. Maybe he wondered if I had moved since he’d left that morning.

But no words were shared, and he just sauntered off to the living room.

“y/n?” Dad called out, coming down the hall. I looked up from my book.

“Yes?” he sat beside me at the table, taking a hold of my hand sincerely.

“I just wanted to apologise for this morning I was-”

“Really it’s fine dad, I’m over it.” I felt a pang of guilt, knowing that in a matter of minutes I would be leaving.

“I just don’t like the idea of leaving you with strangers, and maybe it’s because I’m not like your mother that I’m afraid of who they are. Who you’re becoming.”

I heard a whirring, sputtering in the distance.

“Please stay here y/n darling, I’ll take some time off work and we can do something nice together.” I nodded silently, causing him to smile and stand up. “I’ll go get changed then we can make some dinner yeah?”

I waited until I heard him use the stairs, the noise getting louder and louder as it got closer.

From the kitchen window a floating car came into view, reminding me that I needed to be quick if I wanted to get out before Father noticed it. I ran to put on my shoes and grab my coat. I threw it on just as he shouted down to me.

“What’s that sound y/n!”

I ignored him and headed to the back door, grabbing Canon’s cage from under the table and calling him into it from outside. He flew in and I heard the footsteps come through the house.

“Quick my dad’s coming down!” I shouted to Hermione, who was hanging out the back of the car. She took my owl’s cage as I ran to the shed for my case.

The trunk popped immediately and I chucked it in with no hesitation.

My Father appeared at the back door, frozen with shock at the sight before him. The passenger door opened behind me but I just kept my dad’s gaze as he forgot how to speak.

“I’m sorry dad I have to go,” I hurried my words, shouting over the loud engine.

A long arm stretched out behind me, pulling me inside the car as I saw my father's figure reach after me. I pulled the car door closed behind me and watched my feet.

“Go now! Please!”

My father’s eyes dropped as I went up into the air, uttering pleads to himself as he watched me go off into the distance. I didn’t dare another look back at the shell of a man I was leaving.

“Thank you,” I finally saw that it was Fred who was driving, and who had pulled me up with such ease before.

“It’s all my pleasure, I love a good getaway mission.” he smiled at me, taking his eyes off the sky to look at me a second before speeding off. Making Hermione squeal in excitement in the back.

Ron and Harry were waiting outside along with George to watch us land when we arrived. They waved excitedly, cheering on the shaky parking job to mess with Fred. From behind them Mr and Mrs Weasley came out, Mrs Weasley with her arms crossed shaking her head.

I held my breath as we got out, ready for her to be angry beyond all emotions. But she just pulled me into a loving hug, only letting go to slap the older boy’s head as he tried to sneak past.

“There’s no telling these boys what they can and can’t do is there y/n?” she smiled, “I’m just glad you’re here, Hermione told me all about your father dear.” She whispered as we walked inside. “Well not to worry, we have plenty to celebrate.” She announced.

“Yes, it’s Harry’s birthday on saturday so we’re having a big bonfire party for it.” Ron told me, making his best friend blush with embarrassment beside him.

“I told you it’s really fine, I don’t need you to make a big fuss over me.” Harry explained, but everyone at the table just shushed him in unison.

It was Monday morning when I woke up in Ginny’s empty room with Hermione, with 5 days until the party there was enough to keep us occupied. But Fred and George’s pranks didn’t help get things underway.

Obviously I knew the twins at Hogwarts, they were Ron’s family after all, but I had never spoken to them alone before. I’d never had a reason to. But now I had no choice.

Hermione was finishing up the cleaning in the kitchen, having offered to give Molly a break so she and Arthur could go for an evening walk together.

That usually meant they would be gone a good hour or so, and this meant the twins and Ron went into full mischief mode. Ron and Harry were busy trying to convince Hermione to have a drink with them that the twins had snuck from Arthur’s stash, not that he would notice (or even mind). George had already drunk too much of it and was currently laying in the field outside of his back, singing to the stars in the sky. I laughed at him from the window, alone in the sitting room, or at least I had been.

“Here, you’ll need some too.” I turned at Fred’s voice, him holding out a glass of the firewhiskey to me. I took it from him and forced back that first sip with a grimace.

“Promise me I won’t get like that?” I told him, referring to his tone-deaf lookalike in the garden.

“I’ll make sure you’re in bed before mum and dad get back,” he laughed. “Only if you help me carry that lunatic up.”

“Deal,” I laughed and drank again, this time it tasted not as searing as the first.

I fulfilled the promise I made by helping shove George up to his room that night, which proved a lot harder than expected.

“You never told me you were on the top floor,” I groaned, hearing the front door open and close signalling their parents’ return. “Oh fuck quick, I can’t talk to your mother when I’m drunk.”

“Haha got you! I knew you were drunk this entire time.” Fred whisper-shouted, dropping his brother in excitement. We had stayed talking most of the night, the others had snuck off somewhere leaving just the two of us to get more and more tipsy.

“Help me Fred,” I groaned, still taking the weight of George which was a lot. The blacked out boy groaned in my arms.

“Here, throw him in there. I’ll deal with it.” Fred opened his bedroom door and helped me toss his brother inside.

Then it was just the two of us on the landing, a silence having taken over the house suddenly. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he didn’t seem half as irritating as I had assumed he was when I was at Hogwarts. In fact, he was quite sweet.

“Right.” I said, startling him from his thoughts a little. “I better get to bed before your parents catch me,” I laughed lightly.

“Goodnight y/n,” He smiled, “sleep well.”

The next couple of days I didn’t get much of a chance to speak to Fred alone. But we all spent time together. So he was always there, as a reminder of my confusing feelings from that first full day at the burrow.

As I thought over the past week or so I was reminded of how quickly he had dragged me into the car, not risking leaving me with my father for a second longer. The way he’d been the one to join me when I was sat alone that night. Even just glances at the dinner table, everything made me wonder whether what I had seen as friendly acts were maybe more.

Or maybe I was going insane?

“What are you thinking about?” Hermione asked me as we cleaned the flying car. She’d offered to do it to say thank you for letting us stay, so I of course agreed to help.

“Oh nothing,” I laughed, hoping she would drop it.

“Come on y/n, you can’t hide anything from me. It’s so obvious that you’re distracted.”

Luckily she was interrupted by Fred and George coming outside to play a game of quidditch with Ron and Harry who were already whirring around the grounds on their brooms.

“Oh girls this really is a treat!” George shouted over, winking at Hermione who just scoffed at his teasing.

“If you look for too long it’ll cost you,” I smirked back as they passed by.

“For you? I’d take out a loan darling!” Fred shouted back, making me roll my eyes and splash the hose at both boys. They ran off to escape a water fight and I turned back to Hermione who had a suggesting look on her face.

“Oh what now?” I groaned.

“Never seen Fred act like that.” She said matter-of-factly.

“Come on, that was just him joking.”

“I’ve seen him joking. That wasn’t a joke y/n.”

“It was all playful.”

The damp girl came over to my side of the slightly cleaner car, facing the makeshift quidditch pitch and the boys playing.

“Do you want to know what I think?” She smirked again.

“You’re going to tell me anyway aren’t you?”

“I think that Fred likes you… a lot.”

“And I think that you’ve got it twisted.” I scoffed, going back to my task. Mainly to stop myself from watching the boy at hand take his top off in the scorching sun.

“You didn’t see how quickly he offered to be the one to get you in the car, god even Ron could have driven but Fred insisted it be him to go with me.” She started, but I just ignored her still. Continuing to clean the side mirrors.

“And you must see how he looks at you, he’s in love.”

“Oh shut up!” I laughed, unable to take her claims seriously.

“Even Ron’s noticed how he’s acting around you, and he’s clueless!” She had a point there.

“He’s just friendly, not to mention that he barely knows me.”

Molly came outside just in time to stop Hermione from spewing anymore nonsense about Fred. “Could either of you girls do me a favour?” She asked.

“I will.” I offered, anything to get away from my incessant best friend for a while.

“Great thanks y/n could you collect some firewood from the forest, we still need some for the bonfire.”

“No problem,” I put the sponge into the bucket of water.

“Go grab a jacket though sweetie, it’ll be colder once the sun sets.” I nodded and went to grab one from the burrow.

I passed Arthur writing an essay at the table and hurled myself up the stairs glad to have some time to myself for a while. As much as I loved the Weasley’s, it could sometimes get suffocating being with them at all hours of the day.

“Here she is,” Molly said, “Fred darling!” she shouted and I groaned internally. The boy ran over, “Go with y/n to collect firewood will you?”

“Ah you chose the strongest one didn’t you?” he joked, flexing his arms in his mother's face.

“Go put a shirt on first you fool.” she huffed and went back inside.

I stood still by the wheelbarrow left for us as Hermione came over a look of satisfaction painted across her face. She crossed her arms and laughed.

“Not a word okay,” I glared but she took my threat as being empty.

“Have fun!” she shouted after me and Fred caught up with his shirt now on.

I threw sticks and logs into the wheelbarrow that Fred pushed along, all the while keeping up the casual small talk. Soon the topic turned to Hogwarts.

“I guess we never did speak at school huh,” he thought out loud.

“Yeah, you’re always with George too. Hard to know someone when they’re joined at the hip with their twin.” I teased.

“Ohh so you wanted to know me?”

“You know what I meant, if someone wanted to hypothetically it would be hard to.”

“Right right,”

He wasn’t very convinced, just smiled to himself. We walked for a while, just doing what we’d come into the forest to do.

“I’ve wanted to get to know you..” he said out of nowhere, I paused slightly and hoped he didn’t notice it, “well at least since you came here.”

“Well, you haven’t been doing a bad job.” It was hard to gauge where his head was at.

On the one hand he could just be being friendly to me, want to know me as a friend and all this ‘getting to know me’ chat is purely platonic. But as much as I hated to admit it, Hermione’s words had stuck with me. What if he liked me, and she wasn’t wrong about his ‘advances’. I was pretty sure that I liked him, but only if he felt the same. It was confusing.

“We better get back, it’s already dark and the barrow’s full enough.” Fred said, turning himself around to head back. I couldn't see much, I’d left my wand back at the house in a hurry to leave and Fred’s had been left on their quidditch pitch.

I tripped over something on the ground, grazing my knee with a groan. Fred immediately let go of the wheelbarrow and took my arm. He helped me up with ease, just like he had done that day with the car. Despite the pitch black night, I could see the way his face contorted into worry. I watched him, neither of us saying anything for a moment.

“You alright?” He looked over me quickly.

“Yeah fine, thank you.” I laughed to myself, finally the embarrassment of having fallen over hitting me.

I took a step and winced, the boy beside me stopping again.

“Here,” he lifted me off the ground and placed me on top of the log pile in the wheelbarrow. “Lay back alright or you’ll fall off again clumsy.” He teased, making me feel more relaxed than before.

I had never realised how strong he really was until I felt how effortlessly he handled me.

He wheeled me back to the house slowly, being careful not to let me topple once again. The whole family crowded me when Fred had to carry me inside the kitchen in his arms, which I wasn’t complaining about. Until all the fuss started, then I insisted I’d be fine to walk.

“It’s just a graze, really it’s nothing.” Molly made me some tea and refused to let me get up until she’d cleaned up the cut on my knee and put a bandage on it. An overreaction if you asked me, but still I appreciated her concern.

Soon the others went up to bed, the plan for everyone to go to Diagon Alley in the morning so Harry could choose his presents himself. Plus it meant everyone could get a headstart on their school supplies. Much to Hermione’s delight.

It was just Molly and Fred sat with me at the kitchen table, Mrs Weasley refusing to let me sleep until she was sure I didn’t have a concussion and Fred wouldn’t let me attempt the stairs on my own.

“Really, I didn’t hit my head, did I Fred?”

“Better be safe than sorry,” Molly laughed, finally giving into the idea that I might be okay to go to bed. “I’ll stay home with you tomorrow, can’t have you limping around Diagon Alley in this state can we?”

“I’ll stay with her mum,” Fred offered, I looked over confused. Was he being nice or was he-

“No no Fred it’s fine,” Molly insisted. But her son was just as determined.

“Mum, go. You love school shopping, plus I hate it. George can just get two of whatever he gets for me.”

Mrs Weasley sighed and nodded.

“Well I suppose it would be nice to get out for a while, this place can drive you mad sometimes.” She laughed. Oh I knew. “I’m going up to bed, please don’t let her walk up Freddie.”

Her son laughed lightly but nodded still, knowing I wouldn’t be able to convince him overwise. I glared at him jokingly.

“Night mum,”

“Goodnight Mrs Weasley.”

“Call me Molly already y/n!” She said for the fifth time that day and disappeared up to bed.

“Are you tired yet?” He asked me once we were alone again. I shook my head.

“You?” The boy replied the same as I did.

“Thank you by the way,” I told him sheepishly. “I feel stupid that you have to look after me.”

“I don’t have to, I wanted to.” Fred smiled, and that’s when I realised how genuine he’d been all this time. It was the same tone and smile he had always used with me, it had been real from the start.

“Can I ask you something?” I said, holding back any fear I had of being completely wrong and just biting the bullet.

“Sure,” He sipped some firewhiskey hidden by a mug.

“Hermione said you offered to get me, when I was at my Dad’s house,”

“Yeah well she mentioned that he can be a bit aggressive and I wanted to be there in case he tried anything.”

“Right, thank you… again.” He laughed quietly, not wanting to wake anyone this late.

“Was that it?”

“Uh not really, Hermione also said… and this is probably stupid or just completely wrong.” I took a deep breath and said what I had been thinking all week. “Well I just want to know if how you act with me is because you’re a nice person.. Or whether it’s because of something more.”

He smiled down at the table.

“By something more, you mean that I like you right?” He asked.

“Uhhh yeah haha it’s silly isn’t it.”

“Not really. I didn’t want it to be overwhelming in case you felt differently.” He explained.

“Right.”

“Do you feel the same?” Fred asked me.

“I think so,” He laughed again at my response. “I mean yeah I do, it was kinda hanging in your answer really.”

We didn’t discuss feeling for any longer that night, just chatted for another hour about everything else in our lives. I told him about my parents, and how guilty I felt about leaving my dad regardless of how awful he could be.

Fred told me about his fear of failing. He always wanted to be the best at quidditch because he was never academically gifted, so when he would lose or not do well in a match he took it hard on himself.

It wasn’t as deep at the time, but upon reflection we’d covered some heavy stuff. All before he casually lifted me from my chair and carried me up to bed. He stopped at Ginny’s door where Hermione was sleeping inside, and smiled down at me in his arms. I blushed slightly and looked away.

“See you in the morning?” He asked.

“Only if you lift me out of bed,” I teased.

Fred quietly opened the door and placed me on Ginny’s bed, as my friend had already set up camp on the floor. The only noise in the room was her gentle snores, which made it very hard for us to refrain from laughing. The boy stood up straight and winked, mouthing goodnight and stepping over the sleeping girl on the floor and out into the hallway.

I laid back, completely content knowing that the next day could only bring further joy to this week.

When I woke up there was a tall ginger boy sat at the end of my bed, as he had promised, holding two mugs of tea.

“Morning darling,”

“Were you watching me sleep,” I mumbled, slowly opening my eyes. He walked round the bed and sat beside me as I propped myself up. He passed me the mug and I took a sip.

“Most definitely not,” He smirked and I put my head on his shoulder.

It all felt so natural now that Fred had made his feelings clear. I wasn’t even fazed by him carrying me down to get some breakfast. I was still tired from staying up late the night before, which he could tell by my consistent yawns.

“Wanna go back to bed?” He asked me. I nodded sleepily.

He put me in his bed, feeling weird laying next to me in his little sister’s bed.

“Plus mine is much more comfy,” The boy wasn’t wrong, it was like a little cloud of happiness.

A kiss was placed on my forehead as I drifted off, Fred’s body laying beside mine, his arm resting beneath my head, working as a cosy pillow.

I snuggled into his larger frame, enjoying the comfort having him around gave me.

When the others came back he woke me gently, helping me to my feet when I explained that my leg felt a lot better than it had done all day. I managed to walk, leaning most of my weight on the cautious redhead beside me.

“Y/N!” Harry and Ron had exclaimed, happy to see me back on my feet.

“You guys have fun?” I asked them.

“Yeah, look what Harry got,” Ron was acting like an excited child.

From behind the table they produced a brand new broom.

“Woah!” I widened my eyes, never being that interested in brooms but feigning excitement for them in this moment.

“We’re gonna go test it, will you watch from the window.”

“Course I will.”

They ran into the garden, the twins following close behind. Hermione came up behind me with a smile on her face. “So.. you and Fred looked very cosy just now.”

“I suppose we did,” I ignored her smirk.

“You talked to him didn’t you.” I just nodded, not wanting to give in to her. “I was right wasn’t I?” she laughed.

“Of course you were Hermione Granger, the day you’re wrong the world will stop.” I teased her as I hobbled to the window, seeing Harry whiz past the window with a shout. He narrowly missed hitting the trees as he skimmed over the forest and back towards the house in a flash.

Everyone helped set up the bonfire that evening, even I tried to prop logs up with my slightly injured leg. But Fred came and stopped me almost straight away, picking me up easily and placing me down on a garden chair.

“Stay.” he demanded.

“I’m not a dog!” I shouted as he returned to the bonfire making.

“Woof woof!!” He called back in protest.

That night we all drank ourselves silly in Harry’s honour. I’d never seen Hermione so happy, finally letting all that stress she held onto slip away as she and Ron stole some fireworks from the twins’ stash.

George of course went through the seven stages of being drunk, the scale starting at professing his love to any inanimate object that came into his possession, all the way down to staring at the stars again.

Molly and Arthur gave in first, kissing us all goodnight and stumblestumbling up to bed. Hermione and Ron ended up having to drag Harry off to sleep not too long after, the birthday boy still singing ‘Sweet Caroline’ (his favourite muggle song) as he let us. Neither of his carers returned so I could only presume that they’d fallen asleep too.

George was still doing his sky serenading routine, insisting that he would sleep in the field once again. Fred and I left him to do his thing there while we rambled to one another drunkenly by the fire.

“Do you know something?” he had started off, “From the moment Ron introduced you to me at Hogwarts, I had been wishing he would bring you here.” His face was warm from the fire as he leant it against my own.

“You always were my favorite Weasley, Fred.” I giggled, taking the last sip from my beer.

The bonfire had started to die down and I began to shiver in the cool summer air, despite the copious amount of blankets Molly had piled onto me.

“Come on trouble, let’s get you up to bed.” Fred announced, once again lifting me as if I weighed nothing.

“What about him,” I motioned to George who was beginning to sound like Luna, praising the moon and the clouds with all the passion of an old-timey poet.

“I’ll sort him out after, don’t you worry.” His brother laughed, taking me inside.

I was left in Fred’s bed while he went down to retrieve George, the cold air still filtering through the gaps in their bedroom window. I reached up to the headboard, grabbed a jumper and pulled it on. After about 20 minutes I was beginning to warm up beneath the covers when Fred returned empty handed.

“What did you do to George?” I laughed.

“Left him on the sofa,” He scoffed, “I’m not pulling him up the stairs on my own, I might be strong. But he is a bloody lot of dead weight.” He huffed, pulling off his shirt and getting into bed with me.

“Oh so not only are you stealing my bed, but my clothes too,” He smirked, noticing the knitted jumper with a big ‘F’ on the front that I was wearing.

“I was cold.” I whined, sleepily.

“That’s okay baby.”

He couldn’t see my face, but still I tried to hide my smile. Secretly happy that we were so normal about things.

Another week passed by and soon we were all heading to the train station to go back to Hogwarts for another year. I piled my stuff onto the train along with Hermione, who went to save us a carriage as I said goodbye to Molly and Arthur.

“Thank you so much for letting me stay, it’s been the best summer I’ve had in years.” I beamed, hugging them both in turn.

“You’re always welcome to stay with us, no matter what y/n darling.” Molly promised. “Now you better hurry before the train leaves.”

Fred and George had rushed to see their friends as soon as we’d arrived on the platform. I had thought about going and saying hi, but decided against it. I remembered the reason that Fred and I had barely known one another before the summer.

He had his life, and his friends. And I had mine. We were still different in that sense.

“Come on y/n!” Ron called, sticking his head out of a carriage window. Hermione was doing her best to pull him back inside, but he insisted on making faces to his father.

I jumped on and walked down the hall, turning to open the sliding door when a flash of red hair caught my eye. I stopped and looked, seeing George push his brother into a carriage with a laugh. Like that they were gone.

I didn’t get to see Fred properly until 6 days into the new term. He had been busy with quidditch, and I helped Hermione study. Despite the fact that we had months until the first lot of exams.

Everyone else had gone to the great hall for dinner, but I had skipped it, telling the others that I needed to get some leftover summer homework done. Really I just needed a moment to relax. I went out to the courtyard and stood on the bridge, looking down at the dark lake below. I wondered why Fred hadn’t tried to talk to me at all, it wasn’t like I was really his girlfriend. But it just confused me.

Back at the burrow he hated being away from me, groaned about how horrible it would be once school started again. Yet there had been no sign of him at all, almost as if he’d disappeared entirely. Not even Ron had seen either of his brothers.

The nightly wind howled lightly and I was thrown to the ground by a flash of light and something hitting me quite hard. I closed my eyes, not daring to open them until a voice spoke above me.

“Oh finally.” I recognised Fred, immediately pushing him off me and jumping up.

“What the hell!” I shouted. “How did you- what? WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?” I shouted in shock.

The redhead rubbed his neck sheepishly, shoving something into his pocket quickly.

“What are you hiding?” I asked him.

“I just wanted to surprise you,” He laughed nervously, blatantly lying. Which was odd, because usually I could never tell.

“What’s up with you, I haven’t seen you at all since we came back. Where the hell have you and George been!” I was starting to get annoyed as he stood there waiting for me to finish.

Then there was another flash, I jumped back just in time to see George falling to the ground out of thin air. He groaned and kicked his brother’s leg.

“You git!” He called up to him, “You were supposed to come back for me.”

“Someone needs to explain what’s going on RIGHT NOW!” I shouted, startling George who hadn’t seen me behind him.

“Oh hi y/n, i’ll leave that to Freddie here. It was his idea after all.” He glared at his twin before stumbling off, clutching his head.

“Tell me everything right now Fred,” I demanded.

“Well George and I stole something from Hermione, and we were just testing it out you know. Then we sort of lost it, and couldn’t get back to Hogwarts.”

“What do you mean you couldn’t get back,” I frowned.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a golden ball, attached to a chain, a small circle surrounding it’s charm.

“Come here,” I stepped closer, still unsure about his story. He wrapped the long chain around my neck and then his, forcing us to stand close to one another. I’d missed him in the past week or so, and being close to him made me feel like I had no worries. Just like the warmth of summer had felt.

His long fingers held the ball and he lifted it up to show me as he spun the circle around it.

I watched it turn over and over as if it had a life of its own, Fred’s voice distracted me from its trance.

“y/n, look.” I watched his face and he laughed. “See,”

The sky was bright, not like the moonlight I'd been beneath back at the castle. Then I noticed the burrow, and the forest and I could hear the voices of Ron and Harry debating something from inside the house.

“What- how did we? What is that thing?” I asked Fred.

But he didn’t answer me right then, he just took my hand and ran into the forest, pushing me behind a tree and ducking.

“It’s a time turner, means we can travel back in time to events we were a part of.” He whispered.

“Why are we hiding?” I whispered back.

“You’ll see.”

Just as he uttered those words, two girls came out of the burrow and headed to the flying car that was covered in mud. It was me and Hermione, ready to wash the car for the Weasley’s.

“How am I here and there, how is this possible. There’s two of me.” He chuckled at my hushed shock.

“What’s Hermione saying?” He asked.

“She’s trying to convince me that you fancy me.” I laughed quietly.

“Did it work?”

“Then? No way.”

I watched the two redheaded twins come out and flirt exactly as they had done that day, then Molly came out right on cue, asking me to go into the forest for wood.

“We need to go.” I told him. “We’ll be coming out here soon.”

He nodded, wrapping the chain around me.

“Wait, look.” He whispered pointing to another part of the forest and ducking further down beneath a nearby bush. There was yet another version of Fred hidden by the trees watching himself flirt with me.

“I came here with George before, this is when I got stuck. I stayed to watch us in the woods and George went to play a prank on himself, he lost the time turner and I nearly left him behind. Plus so much time had passed since I’d left that I couldn’t just go back to the start of term. I honestly tried to.”

“But how did George get back if you had it?”

“I must ask him when we’re at hogwarts. It's very impressive.” Then he spun the ring once again, and in a single flash we were back on the bridge where we had left moments before.

“Why did you go back?” I asked him.

“I felt bad, I wanted things to be like they had been with us at the burrow. But I’d gotten so caught up with my friends that I never even got a chance to talk to you before we got on the train.”

“So you went back weeks?”

“I wanted to relive those memories too, wouldn’t you?” He asked.

“I’d rather make new ones with you, here.”

“I’m sorry y/n, you’re right.”

“It’s sweet though.” I blushed, nudging his side.

Fred led me inside, all the way to the great hall where dinner was still going on. We passed Ron, Harry and Hermione, whose jaw dropped seeing Fred and I together at school.

“Guys, this is y/n. My girlfriend.” Fred introduced me to his friends all gathered at the other end of the Gryffindor table with a proud smile across his face, his hand linked into mine tightly.

#fred weasley #harry potter #fanfic #fanfiction #weasley #weasley twins

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ihearthes · 3 years

Photo

Quarantine Christmas Part 2

Author: @ihearthes Pairing: Harry x y/n Rating: Smut Word Count: 2768 (Part 1) Fiction Chalenge via @caitlin‘s fiction party via @sweetcreatureinthedark

Part 1

December 24, 2020

“Smith!” he bellows way too early and cheerfully as he pounds on my bedroom door. “Happy Christmas Eve! Come on! Let’s go for a jog.”

“Arrrrggggghhhhh,” I growl. “No.”

“If you hike the Hastain Trail with me, I’ll spring for coffee afterwards.”

“Go away, Styles.” Drawing the pillow over my head, I try to block out the sound of his voice.

“Fresh air will be good for you.”

“You’re not going to give up, are you?”

“Not on your life. I hate hiking alone.”

“Fine!” Throwing the covers off, I don my newly cleaned leggings, sports bra, and a t-shirt before opening the door and marching past him in my tennis shoes. “Bully,” I accuse.

“You’re mad that I’m forcing you to take care of yourself?” Although he sounds offended, that smirk is back.

“Whatevs, Styles. Let’s go.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

He sets off at a brisk pace, and I trail behind him slightly. After all, I’m still waking up.

“Keep up, Smith!”

Just to be ornery, I slow my stride, taking my time examining the plants next to the path. When I next glance up, Harry is a solid quarter mile ahead of me, and I contemplate turning back, finding a picnic table and taking a nap on it until he’s done.

But no. That’s not to be, as he turns and jogs back to me, keeping his legs pumping as he moves backwards.

“You’re going to trip on something,” I caution.

He grins. “You care about me!”

My eyes roll so far back into my head that I swear I can see my own brain. “No. But I care about Glenne, and she would be mighty upset if I had a part in damaging you.”

“Mhm.” The smirk is back, and as hard as I try to keep a sour look on my face, it’s challenging. “Where was Christmas supposed to be?” His question is casual, but it causes me to flinch.

“Indiana,” I snap off the word like one would a twig on a dying tree. Immediately, I feel guilty. “Sorry.” My mumble is quiet, but loud enough for him to hear and nod in silent acceptance. “You don’t deserve rudeness. What about you? London?”

“Holmes Chapel. With my mum, my sister, and her boyfriend.”

“Ah. Is it cold there this year?”

“Fairly mild. And Indiana?”

“Cold, cold, cold. Maybe even snow still on the ground.”

“Yeah. Christmas in Los Angeles is quite different.” Harry gestures around the trail, and I smile.

“Definitely.”

“What are your favorite traditions?”

By the time we loop back around to the start of the trail, we’ve exhausted the topic, and I realize my mood has improved tremendously.

“Thank you, Harry.” The words are soft, and I try to insert as much authenticity as I can into them.

I have the pleasure of watching his eyes soften as he observes me over the top of the car. “Coffee next! And a trip to the grocery!”

“Grocery? You’re cooking?”

“WE are baking and then cooking.”

“Really?”

“Yep. We’re going to create a mashup of our traditions.”

“No fucking way!” I exclaim, excited at the prospect. Sitting up, I search for a piece of paper and a pen. “I didn’t bring my purse, Styles. Give me your phone.”

“My phone?” Confused, he gazes at me while at a stoplight.

“I need to write down the ingredients we need to buy. Let’s see. We can’t make some of the cookies we each like because I don’t know if Glenne has cookie cutters in the right shapes. So how about some ginger biscuits?”

When he nods, I gesture for his phone. “Come on, Styles. I need to look up recipes and make sure we get the right ingredients.”

Reluctantly, he unlocks his phone, handing it to me. “No snooping,” he warns, shaking his finger in my direction.

“Puuuuuuullllllleeeeeasssse. As if.” Using his browser, I search for a recipe for the ginger biscuits for him as well as one for thumbprint jam cookies, copying the ingredients into his Notes app.

“Now, for dinner,” he begins, and my fingers pause as I wait for his next words. “Mum used to do a roast, but I don’t eat meat anymore. Just fish. And your family always does turkey. How do we compromise on a protein?”

“Scallops? Salmon? Both delicious and something I would consider fancy enough for a holiday meal.”

“Excellent!” Harry declares. “And can we agree on brussel sprouts and yams?”

My whole being is excited at the prospect of this meal with Harry. Suddenly there’s a silver lining to spending my favorite holiday away from my family.

As he turns off the engine, I rest my hand on his wrist until he twists to look at me. “Thank you, Harry.”

“You already said that.” He rolls his eyes, but the crinkles send a different message.

Less than 30 minutes later, we’re back in the car with the trunk full of groceries, including prosecco. After stopping for the promised coffee, we return to Glenne and Jeffrey’s house, unloading the food.

“Mind if I take a shower before we start?” I ask, looking down at my clothing. “I feel dusty still from the trail.”

“Let’s both shower --” He stalls at my shocked expression “-- in separate bathrooms, Smith. Then let’s see who can put together the worst Christmas outfit from whatever we can find in the guest bedroom where we’re each sleeping.”

A grin crosses my face. “Oh, you’re going down, Styles!” Rushing out of the room, I’m confident that my ears are playing tricks on me because I think he responds with “I would love to go down on you.” He must have said something completely different, and I shake my head to clear the thought.

When I emerge later, I’m wearing my grey sweatpants which I’ve pinned garland to along with one of my green hoodies and a giant wreath draped around my neck like a necklace by a red ribbon. Arriving in the kitchen, I’m stopped in my tracks by the sight of Harry wearing a skirt of wrapping paper over his also-grey sweatpants, along with a variety of bows stuck to his Green Bay Packers hoodie.

He shrugs, “Apparently they use that guest bedroom for storing wrapping paper.”

I laugh as I pluck one of the bows off his hoodie and place it on my chest after removing the wreath.

“You win,” I concede. “I’m surprised there’s so much Christmas stuff in their house.”

“Eh. The Azoff family celebrates everything.”

“Lucky us, then.”

Side by side, we create the dough first for the ginger biscuits and then for the thumbprint cookies. After he slides the first pans into the oven, Harry crosses his arms. “Scrabble while we wait for them to bake?”

“Oh, it’s on!” I agree, and we settle at the dining room table to play the game.

“Fine. You win,” Harry pouts over an hour later as I play my final letter which manages to be on a triple word score tile.

“Woo hoo!” Stuffing one of the ginger biscuits in my mouth, I chew thoughtfully. “These are pretty good. I might make them again next year.”

“Same for these,” Harry grins as he chews on one of the thumbprint cookies. Crossing his arms on the table in front of him, he leans toward me. “Now how about you tell me exactly why you turned down my account when Glenne offered it to you?”

Shock courses through my body, and I freeze, knowing my face is likely turning into a candy cane red.

“She told you?”

“Of course she told me! I had specifically asked for you, so I was a bit heartbroken when she told me that you refused.”

His word choice makes me raise an eyebrow. “Heartbroken?”

“Devastated? Wrecked? Disappointed? Take your pick, Smith.”

Swallowing, I make eye contact with him. “I’ll tell you why I turned down our account if you’ll tell me why you call me Smith.”

His tongue darts out and wets his lips as his green eyes bore into me. “Because you remind me of a Granny Smith apple.” Confusion must sweep across my face, as he continues talking. “You’re tart at first, but you can be sweetened. I’ve witnessed it in the past as well as just the last two days.” His face colors, but he continues speaking anyway. “Plus I suspect you’re incredibly juicy, and I would love a sample.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. Had Harry Styles just made a very obvious overture? Yes. Yes, he had. My eyes float over his face, searching for any indication that he’s lying, but the sincerity is striking.

First I look at my entwined hands, and then I decide to show the same courage he has exhibited. “I turned down your account because I couldn’t possibly work for you when I’m this attracted to you. It’s bad form to want to --” I can’t decide on the appropriate word, so I settle for “-- jump your client.”

The smirk is back, and it’s followed by an uproarious laugh. “This is too rich! To think that we could have been having some sort of relationship all this time is mind-numbing.” Rising, he holds out his hand. “How about we consummate our mutual attraction?”

“In the middle of the afternoon on Christmas Eve?”

“You got a better idea of how to spend our time?”

“Swimming?” I tease.

“Smith?”

“Yeah?”

“Take my hand.”

His words and tone make it clear that he’s interested in moving forward with this. My own body’s response is in sync with his. Gently, I place my hand in his as I rise from the table. Twisting his body, he also shifts his hand, leading me in the direction of…where? A bedroom seems too rushed. Not that my hormones would agree.

But no. We walk down the two steps into the living room where he turns on the Christmas tree lights before settling on the couch and tugging my arm so that I join him. “Oh, wait.” Rising, he approaches the sound system, and soon the strains of Christmas music fill the space. Returning to my side, he settles with his arm around me.

“Smith…” His words are a whisper, and I rotate my head in his direction as he brushes his finger over my cheek. When our lips meet, I swear I can hear the angels sing. His mouth is soft and tender, and I twine my fingers through the hand draped over my shoulder as I open wide to allow him to enter. Our tongues tangle in heat and dampness that also seems to pool between my legs. He tastes of the lemon curd thumbprints we had jointly made, and I relish the flavor, wanting more.

Shifting closer to him, I tilt my head to provide greater access, and his hand drifts to my sweatpants. Withdrawing from me, he examines our clothes. “Mind if I remove this garland?”

“Not at all,” I purr. “As long as I can get rid of these bows.” The wrapping paper skirt had already been ruined when we sat down for the Scrabble game.

Rather than unpinning the garland, though, he hooks his thumbs into my waistband and draws the sweatpants over my hips. “Up, Smith.” I lift my bum as he removes my bottoms, leaving me in my panties.

In return, I inch his hoodie up his chest and off, tossing it over my shoulder, heedless of the bows that seem to desire to stay attached to the musician. Can’t say I blame them.

“Hmmmm,” he murmurs before capturing my lips again.

When we come up for air, my hands have managed to roam his chest, tweaking his nipple and wrenching a moan from his mouth. For his part, his hand has drifted over the small piece of cloth separating my treasure from full access. His thumb rubs a pattern over the fabric, and soon I’m panting.

“Fuck,” I mutter as we separate.

“Yes please” is his cheeky reply.

“Dork,” I indict.

“Mhm. Take off that hoodie. Please.”

Willingly, I oblige. Before the material has hit the floor, he’s capturing my nipple in his mouth, and I throw my head back as fire stokes through my body from my tits to my core. “Shit,” I proclaim.

His fingers return to the scrap of cloth covering my center. As his thumb teases my clit through the silk, a finger slips underneath and into me. Without thought, I cry out, my lower body rising from the bed to get closer to heaven.

“Been a while?” His voice is rough, sounding like sandpaper as he dislodges from my breast.

“Too long,” I pant, “but you’ve always had the power to bring me to the brink just with a look.”

“I see,” he smirks, and normally I would want to smack him, but this time, I find it endearing.

“I want --” I gesture to his sweats, and he grins.

“If I refuse?”

“Then my treasure box can close pretty quickly if I don’t have something in my hands.”

Harry laughs. “Fair enough.” Shucking his sweatpants over his hips, I find that he’d chosen not to wear underpants as his cock springs upwards into my waiting hand.

“Shit. I need lubricant.” I complain.

We gaze at each other, the lust clear. Jumping up from the sofa, we race together to Glenne and Jeffrey’s bathroom. I scour the lower cabinets while Harry throws open the linen closet. “Got it!” he announces, holding the bottle over his head.

“Thank God!” My relief is real. Grabbing the bottle from him, I find I can’t move. Now what? Where do we go? We can’t very well do the deed in their bed.

Grabbing my hand, Harry once more takes the lead, and we end up in his guest bedroom. I gesture at the bed, and he strips off the duvet before lying down on his back. Crawling onto the mattress, I settle between his thighs, tilting the bottle of lube and squeezing a fair amount into my hand. Relaxed, I hold my hand over his cock, allowing droplets to fall. His eyes plead with me, and I grin at him.

“Impatient, Styles?”

“Desperate for you, Smith.”

With that pronouncement, I wrap both hands around his length, allowing my fingers to glide gently along his shaft. One hand falls underneath where I can tickle his balls playfully. When his hips start bucking, I withdraw from him completely -- albeit slowly with a final few long strokes.

His eyes fly open, and he pats the bed next to him, so I lie there.

“Smith…”

“Shhhh. Hush, Styles.”

Miraculously he doesn’t say anything, but he does reach out and shift aside the fabric over my vagina before he delves a finger inside. I know I’m wet. Hell, I can feel the dampness.

His finger teases me, and I writhe under his attention.

“Fuck, Styles. I’m gonna…”

“Do it!” he orders, and my lower body creates a bridge as my hips rise into the air while my thighs tremble in ecstasy.

As I land back onto the bed and earth itself from my recent visit to heaven, Harry carefully removes my panties and throws them over his shoulder.

“Condom?” He inquires.

“IUD. You clean?”

“Yep. Got tested not long ago. You?”

“Fuck me, Styles. We deserve this.”

“Indeed,” he grins just before he plunges into me, and I cry out at the feel of his length inside me, filling me and touching every part of me.

“Shit.” My breaths come in short spurts as he pumps into me. I can’t seem to catch my breath as my second orgasm starts building. “Shift to the left, Styles.”

“You got it, Smith. Can you scratch at my back?”

“You bet.”

The communication is nice as we guide each other to what pleases us the most. As much as I want to take our time, it’s not nearly long enough before I feel my insides begin to clench in a familiar way.

“Fuck, Styles. I’m coming!”

“Me too, Smith! Fuuuuuuuuuccccccckkkkkk!” He stretches the word into multiple syllables as I feel his seed squirting into my womb, stopped only by my birth control. His fingers reach between our bodies as he manipulates my clit until I see stars and arch my lower body to become closer to him.

Collapsing on top of me, his breathing is as uneven as my own.

“Merry Christmas, Smith,” he murmurs while we’re still joined.

“Merry Christmas, Styles,” I reply, hugging his body tightly to mine. No telling if we have a future, but this holiday is going to be one for the books.

A/N: This short story is dedicated to those who aren’t able to join family this Christmas due to the Coronavirus. Be safe. Be healthy. Make the best of the situation. Sending you BIG HUGS!

#harry styles #original writing #my writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles reader insert #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction

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buckyjamess-archive · 3 years

Text

chocolate chips & babies

a/n: hello @onceuponadetectivedemigod I'm your secret Santa for the Get down give joy event! This is my first time participating in such thing. I absolutely loved the things you requested & this is where I ended up, I hope you enjoy it! also, sorry for not sending so much anons; I didn't know what to ask :')

pairings: ben hardy x reader

warnings: fluff town baby, call your dentist in advance. Dad!ben needs a warning on its own.

wordcount: 1.4k+

summery; Christmas with the Jones' is never the same.

"Daddy, this one has Santa in it."

Ben looks down at his daughter, Emily, shaking another snow globe in her purple gloved hands. Blonde hair flowing from underneath her purple hat. Rosy cheeks and the tip of her nose red.

"No, you're joking?"

Kneeling down to his daughter's height, he catches the globe from her tiny hands and examines it closely. How the snow floats around Santa, the Christmas tree and the tiny snowman.

"It sure is Santa," Ben smiles at his daughter "we need to find mum and your brother, okay?"

Emily nods her head and watches how her dad sets the snowglobe back on the shelf, amongst all others she enjoyed. Ben gets back on his feet and reaches for her hands, which wraps around his finger.

Making their way out of the little corner store and out on the cold streets of London, Ben finds himself and his daughter in a mob of people.

People desperately trying to find that one last, perfect gift for under the tree. People trying to get the last turkey from the store a few blocks down. People arguing. People yelling--

Oh the joys of Christmas.

"C'mon, sweetheart."

In a swift move, Ben raises Emily off the ground and holds her tight against his side. Her arms wrapping around his neck.

"Where's mummy?"

"I don't know," ben mumbles, subtly pushing past the group of arguing women "but we'll find her."

"We have too," Emily states as a matter of fact "we were going to bake cookies."

"Yeah, did mum promise you that?" Ben asked curiously.

Emily nods her head "with hot chocolate."

It can't be hard to find you, right? A woman he came to love so dearly, walking around with his son, his carbon copy, sporting a seven month baby bump under a layer of clothes..not that difficult, if the streets weren't packed as if every store decides to give things away for free.

Christmas with the jones..never the same.

"Maybe Santa can give me the snow globe."

"Maybe he will sweetheart."

You push the stroller back and forth in the hopes to make your over emotional toddler sleepy and though he's dozed off minutes ago, you can't be too sure and stop it.

Noah his rosy, chubby cheeks are squished as his head rests against the metal of the stroller. Quiffs of blonde peeking from under his red and blue, fireman Sam hat. Clutching onto a stuffed rabbit he'd gotten from his big sister.

You rub over your still and seemingly never growing bump when little miss Jones causes a ruckus. Honestly, you're still surprised she hasn't broken any of your ribs or caused any internal bleeding,

something you'd not had experienced yet, Emily and Noah were the easiest babies you'd seen among your friends, just like their dad, not only in looks but in manners but something tells you this little babe is going to be your carbon copy.

Sitting down on the stone bench, your feet ache. A sigh leaving your lips when your son starts to shift in his stroller the second you stop moving it.

Home, that's all you want at this moment. Gather your little family, walk home and heat up with some hot chocolate underneath the Christmas tree while watching a movie. Underneath a thick fluffy blanket preferably.

Only if you didn't lose your husband in the madness called the great Christmas depression. Maybe it was a bad idea to do some Christmas shopping last minute after all.

The cold England weather sends a shiver down your spine and you tuck the blanket further up Noah's body, carefully to not wake him up.

The familiar sound of the voices belonging to those of your husband and daughter catches your attention. You stand up, looking around the bush streets and it takes a while before you spot the two blondies.

You wave in the hopes they see you and they do as Emily points into your direction.

"It's a madhouse." Ben grumbles when he reaches you "lets head back home."

"Gladly." You mumble back.

The walk home isn't long. You've rarely left the block. You've walked this route a hundred times, ten minutes at last but with the ache in your feet and back, it made it look like hours but with Emily pushing the stroller, it gave Ben the opportunity to snake his arm around your back, helping you to find some sort of relief.

"This is the last kid, Jones." You complain "unless you're planning to carry them."

"Don't think I'm able to be such an amazing human being," ben chuckles "I'm just a man."

"This one better look like me."

You watch Emily, carefully pushing the stroller with her little brother around. Nearly reaching the handles, even on her tiny toes but peeking around it to make sure to go straight.

Both carbon copies of their daughter.

"I'm sorry love, can't help it. My genes are stronger."

"Mate, calm down." Ben laughs when he pulls his son hand away from the batch of cookie batter "when's the last time we fed you."

You're seated at the breakfast bar, nursing a hot chocolate, like you imagined minutes ago.

Emily stands tall on her step, flour covering nearly every inch of her body, rolling batter into small balls, licking her fingers clean once in a while.

Noah on his knees on the kitchen counter, anything edible disappearing into his mouth whenever he can get his hands on it.

Ben stands behind him, able to pull his son back whenever it's needed. Hand gripping the back of Noah's shirt.

"Grandma says you get sick from eating it." Emily says, looking back from Ben to you and back "chickens will grow in your stomach because the eggs are raw."

"Did she?" Ben raises his brow as he looks at his daughter, mouthing a 'What the hell?' In your direction

"Is it true?"

"No honey, grandma is crazy." You say "You can get sick from it, so don't eat too much."

"Do you want some?"

She holds out a ball of dough in your direction. A smile reaching her ears, showing off her pearly whites

"No, the baby doesn't like it." You refuse but give her the same warm smile she's giving you.

She turns back to her dad, holding out the same piece but when Ben refuses it too, she sets it in the tray in front of her, pushing it down with her hands.

"I will make cookies for all of you!" Emily cheers "even for Santa!"

"That's a good idea love," Ben smiles, "Maybe he'll get you that snow globe."

"Yes!"

The two of you share a smile but it falters fast when Noah gets a hold of the bag of chocolate chips, nearly stuffing his mouth with a hand full.

"Mate, you need to calm down." Ben states "he's got that from you."

"As if you didn't eat my last candy bar, Jones."

"Go easy on your mum or you'll be the last one."

You roll your eyes at Ben, his face close to your bump. The lights of the Christmas tree and the fairy lights illuminating the features on his face.

With the two rascals all tucked in and sound asleep, it's just you, Ben and the little bean. A moment you'll forever cherish, a moment that rarely happened.

"So, if you want a brother or sister-"

"Ben, please," you chuckle "I don't want to think about another kid right now. She's not even born yet."

Ben sits back up right and rests his feet on the coffee table, laying his arm on the couch behind you "What about a football team?"

"I'll personally give you a vasectomy."

"I'm joking." Ben throws his head back, nearly causing a whiplash as he lets out a laugh

"I'm not tough." You smirk at him "I love you but I'm not going to care a football team, find yourself another wife if you have too."

"I would never."

Ben kisses your temple and places his hand back on your stomach and if on queue, the little bean kicks up against his hand.

"Already a daddys princess." Ben jokes "three girls to fight for my attention."

You raise your brows and fake a smile "Oh, I'll always fight for your attention."

"These mood swings really getting to you this time, huh?" Ben chuckles "Where's the Christmas spirit?"

You huff and lean back on the couch, throwing your legs in Ben's lap. Without thinking, Ben reaches for them, massaging away the ache in them.

"We've to make sure we feed these kids," Ben says "look at our poor son."

Tough it's a little hectic and a bit chaotic and, ben wouldn't want his family to be any different.

#getdowngivejoy #get down give joy #hope you like it!#ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x you #ben hardy imagine #Ben hardy

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forasecondtherewedwon · 3 years

Text

and the stars (they all aligned)

Fandom: Sex Education Pairing: Ola Nyman/Lily Iglehart Rating: E Word Count: 3887

Summary: Ola knows there's more to outer space than aliens with penis-fingers, and from their spot on the hill, gazing up at the night sky with Lily, it's never felt closer. They've never felt closer.

“Life can get small, you know?” Ola says sadly. The gravity inside her body still feels a little off, like her heart’s bobbing around, unsure whether to float or land. She’s sad, she’s elated, she’s aching for her mum, she’s grateful to have her girlfriend next to her on the grass.

“Like when I stopped writing my stories,” Lily suggests, frowning thoughtfully under her silvery makeup.

“Yeah. But the stars are so beautiful out here. I feel like, if I laid down and just looked straight up… blocked out the people and the lights from the houses… I could see really far into space.”

“You are seeing far into space, with some of these.” Lily points a pale, precise finger up above them. “The light’s coming from such a long way away that you’re basically traveling in time. And that’s real,” she quickly emphasizes, “not science fiction.”

Ola smiles widely.

“Cool.”

The other spectators are beginning to walk back to their cars and homes, but Lily and Ola lie back on the plaid blanket. Lily’s arm pulls her gently closer until Ola’s resting her head on her girlfriend’s chest. Just when it seems that the star shower has ended, another lone light flies past.

“They’re meteors, aren’t they?”

“Yes,” Lily says, but Ola can tell she’s held something back.

“If you want to say what you imagine them to be,” she prompts, “I’m here to listen.”

“Aliens,” Lily blurts, given permission, but then she adds: “Or angels.”

Ola lies very still for a minute, breathing, feeling the plasticky pink stripes on her girlfriend’s outfit pull on her cheek a little when she repositions her head.

“Angels?”

“Well, this was your mum’s favourite place,” Lily says, straightforward and unflinching, the way she explains everything that can’t possibly be real. “So maybe angels. Cosmic angels who ice skate on Jupiter’s frozen moon, Europa.”

“Aww, that’s lovely.”

“And hump the rings of Saturn.”

“That’s not really how I’d like to picture my mum’s spirit.”

“Sorry,” Lily says. Ola can hear the wince in her voice and gives her waist a quick squeeze to show she isn’t upset. “The cosmic angels could also be juggling moon rocks.”

“Tanning on planets that orbit three suns.”

“Riding spiral galaxies around like a carousel!”

“And when we see shooting stars,” Ola says with a smile, “they’re surfing.”

“Yes, I think that’s right,” Lily agrees, sighing contentedly beneath her. “You know—” She taps the nape of Ola’s neck like Ola’s seen her tap her desk when she’s writing and pauses to consider the next turn her intergalactic saga will take. “—you’ve got a really good imagination.”

Delighted, Ola lifts her head and smiles at her girlfriend.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

“So do I,” Lily says while Ola nods, “but maybe I use it too much? If I’d been better at living in reality, you wouldn’t have gotten sick of me.”

Ola frowns. She’s big on showing affection through physical contact and instinct tells her to brush Lily’s hair back from her face or something, but it’s too slicked down tonight, the silky length of it twirled into a magnificent pair of space buns, wound through with metallic thread. Her girlfriend is so creative, and so many beautiful things come from her brain. Ola hates that Hope, their classmates, and even her made Lily believe her ideas and the way she expresses them aren’t valuable.

“Lily. I was never sick of you.” She reaches to adjust the gleaming pleather collar of Lily’s outfit, then leans down to nuzzle her nose against Lily’s. “And I never want you to use your imagination less, or try to turn it off, or anything like that. The answer might even be to use it more.”

“More?”

“Yeah.”

Ola drops her head onto her girlfriend’s chest again, hugging into her side as a chatting couple wheel a stroller up the hill past them. She thinks of the new baby while Lily mulls over what she’s said. Joy. They’ll have to sedate her dad if they want him out of the hospital tonight while that tiny girl slumbers there. Joy will learn, when she’s older, what a good dad she had from the very beginning—watching over Joy and giving Ola, well, space. She stares up at the sparkling scatter of stars.

“Because there are other ways for us to enjoy having sex,” Lily says a few minutes later, no preamble.

Ola nods, face shushing across her girlfriend’s costume.

“We’ve done so much together already, but I’m sure there’s loads we haven’t explored.” She shrugs. “I might never have tried any sort of alien roleplay if I hadn’t met you, and you come up with new things you want to try all the time. You inspire yourself, through your writing, and I think that’s amazing.”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” Ola says confidently. “I do.”

“Your mom must have loved you really well,” Lily murmurs, “because you love really well too.”

Ola is a box. A clear, plastic box with a hatch where her heart is. She is an incubator, like Joy’s, housing a very fragile thing, and Lily has reached inside to cradle that thing in her careful hands. Ola sniffs and the stars smudge into a big, messy glow up above. She blinks fast as her eyes brim.

“She did.”

“I wouldn’t want to be abducted without you.”

Ola laughs wetly.

“Thanks, Lil.”

Lily speaks some more, but it’s not to her. She mumbles and traces lines up and down the sleeve of Ola’s green jacket. Ola can tell she’s thinking out loud; the words ‘pulsing’ and ‘Glenoxi’ and ‘penis-fingers’ hum in the air over their heads. She’s prepared to flip off anyone who looks at her girlfriend strangely, but the final stragglers march by in their own wild costumes, dragging signs with hopeful and blatantly sexual pleas. Huh. Some of these really are Lily’s people.

Once they’re alone on the hill, Ola sighs and rolls fully onto her back, head on Lily’s oversized round belt buckle as she lies perpendicular to her girlfriend. She kicks her legs out, feet apart, and folds her hands over her stomach. Lily’s fingers creep over and toy with her rainbow pin. Smiling at the warmth of her girlfriend’s hand through her jacket, Ola’s finally ready to do what she said before: block out everything else and look up.

The dark is comforting and lovely. When she relaxes the muscles in her face, lets her gaze go unfocused and fuzzy, all of that celestial light becomes a soft background for her thoughts and feelings. She imagines that she (and Lily, of course) are someplace else, far from this hill and the wonderful, painful complexities of their lives. Would she be able to see Earth? She supposes that she would, diving back through her memories to her childhood treehouse, the telescope her dad hauled up there for her and her sister. Ser du det, Ola? Det är planeten Venus. She’d forgotten about that clunky old telescope.

From a distance, Earth would twinkle too, reflecting the light of the sun. Magic. There are so many incredible things, Ola thinks, that are true. Facts that inspire fiction, and are in some cases more wonderful than anything most people could make up.

She rolls onto her stomach, propped up by her elbows.

“I’ve… had a thought,” Ola says, gaze sweeping up Lily’s torso to her face, where wide eyes swivel to stare back at her.

“About what?”

Ola stretches a hand out to trace her girlfriend’s upturned nose with a fingertip.

“Something we could do,” she says slyly. She brings her finger down to cover Lily’s lips and Lily bites the end with faux-ferocity.

“Here?”

Ola nods, grinning.

Eagerly, Lily sits up.

“Well, tell me,” she says.

“We’re going to go on a journey,” Ola informs her. Lily smiles reservedly, waiting for more. “And you can narrate.”

“Where are we going?”

“Space.”

Lily glances from side to side, at the hilltop that’s darker now everyone’s left with their torches and camera flashes and glow-in-the-dark clothes. Only their candle remains.

“Where are we really going?”

“Nowhere, technically,” Ola says, scrunching her nose. “We’ll do it right here.”

“Ok,” says Lily gamely. “What is it we’re doing?”

Pushing up onto her hands and knees, Ola leans forward to kiss her. It’s quick, but when it’s over and her girlfriend inhales like she’s going to ask another question, Ola kisses her again, smiling against her lips. Sometimes doing is better than explaining.

Lily’s hand raises and cups her cheek. It’s when Ola feels the other hand curl around the back of her neck and flex as Lily presses more enthusiastically into the kiss that she knows she’s got it, she’s understood. They kiss faster and Ola’s hands skitter across Lily’s belt, searching for a piece to undo until she realizes its overlapping ends Velcro together in the back, hidden by the cape. The ripping sound of the strips unfastening makes them both laugh. Ola lays the belt out on the blanket before planting one hand on her girlfriend’s far side, bracketing her as she reclines slightly onto her elbows and they continue to kiss.

Lily’s cape is designed like a vest, with holes for her arms to go through. Ola tugs at one, then accepts that she won’t be able to get it off over the massive, padded shoulder spike on Lily’s bodysuit. Not without help.

“You won’t be too cold, will you?” she checks, sitting back to allow Lily to maneuver out of her cape.

“Not yet.”

“And if I want to take this off as well?” Ola asks coyly, sliding her hands along her girlfriend’s outfit, up from the waist to knead Lily’s breasts through the quilted fabric.

Lily smiles back and tips her chin up, encouraging the deep kiss Ola sinks into, already feeling her arousal climbing with the anticipation of trying out this new idea. Maybe she should have found a way to talk to Lily about introducing some variety sooner, because it’s been a while since she felt this level of excitement for sex. She always enjoys herself, but it has been a little hard, acting out one of Lily’s fantasies after another without ever taking the lead herself. Hopefully, tonight establishes a revised balance in this area of their relationship—a fusion that’s partly Lily, partly Ola.

Locating the zipper at the back of Lily’s costume, Ola pulls back.

“This is ok, right?” she asks, because Lily never said out loud that she wouldn’t be cold.

“I think so,” her girlfriend says. She looks down. “I can snuggle into the blanket as well, don’t forget.”

Ola scans their surroundings.

“And there isn’t anyone around,” she says, grinning. Could she be into the idea of getting caught? She’s never considered it before! Not actually caught, of course, because she very much wants to keep this about the two of them, but there’s a thrill surrounding the possibility that Ola didn’t expect.

“Five, four, three, two, one,” Lily counts down. “Ignition.” She holds Ola’s gaze and lifts her eyebrows, some sort of a cue.

“Oh, got it,” Ola says, beginning to unzip the silvery bodysuit.

Arms wrapped around her girlfriend from the front, her hands slide down as she exposes Lily’s skin to the air. She can tell through the material that there isn’t anything underneath it—no lines, no ridges but her spine, her shoulder blades—so when the zipper hits the end of its track at Lily’s lower back and Lily peels the front of the outfit down, Ola isn’t surprised to be confronted with her girlfriend’s bare breasts.

The shinier segment of the costume winds up being a sort of torso-less shirt—the sleeves connecting to the high collar that encircles Lily’s neck. That part stays on as Lily wiggles and hops, getting the sleeveless bodysuit over her hips and bum, and Ola sees that the shiny leggings are separate as well.

“This is really cool,” she notes.

“Thanks,” Lily says, working the bodysuit off over her nearly-knee-high boots. “The cape…?” she wonders when she’s done.

“You can put that back on.”

“And you want me to talk?”

“Yes please. Just not about aliens,” Ola adds, watching her girlfriend’s expression cautiously for signs of hurt.

But Lily’s face is open, unoffended. She shrugs into her cape.

“Alright.”

“I mean, if you find you have anything you want to say,” Ola clarifies. She smirks as she slips her hand between Lily’s thighs, cupping her and rubbing a bit through the leggings.

“I think the ship—the normal, regular Earth spaceship,” Lily clarifies, breathing slightly unevenly, “—is monitoring a disturbance. A buildup of energy.”

“Oh?”

Ola smiles wider, then bends over her girlfriend, running her mouth along her skin below where her sleeve-top conceals her collarbones. Gradually, Lily lies back. As Ola hoped she would, Lily narrates, easily spinning a science-fiction story that’s heavy on the science for once. Ola kisses back up her throat as Lily’s high voice speaks clearly of stellar nurseries, dense with dust and gas. In spite of her flowing words and dreamy descriptions, the actual subject matter doesn’t sound that nice to Ola, until Lily announces the mission of this particular spaceship. (“Mmm?” Ola asks wordlessly, kissing below Lily’s jaw; Lily nods to acknowledge that Ola’s mouth will indeed be playing the role of the spaceship in this scenario.) It’s closing in on this cloud of stellar stuff in search of the new star that’s about to be born.

“Passing between huge planets,” Lily says, while Ola hunches hungrily over her body and kisses down between her breasts. “Gas giants. Jupiter, maybe.”

Ola nearly starts laughing when Lily confirms one of the planets to be Jupiter by the fact of ‘the ship’ spying its Great Red Spot—Ola’s focused in on Lily’s nipple, dragging it tenderly between her teeth before sucking to deepen the colour; with the blue of the night, that’s closer to purple than Lily’s normal rosy pink.

She keeps going and so does Lily, infusing every lick and tug with the richness of her imagination, as well as actual knowledge of the solar system, about which she seems to know quite a lot. For a risky, romantic hookup under no roof but the sky, it’s rather educational.

The minute Lily’s bent knees go flat as she straightens to her full length, Ola swings a leg over to hover above her. She redoubles her attention to her girlfriend’s breasts and caresses her hands swiftly up Lily’s sides. Lily shivers and Ola thinks it’s the cold getting to her after all, but when she raises her head to check in, Lily’s eyelids are drooping with pleasure. So Ola continues to touch her. And Lily continues to unravel their tale.

She recounts the rushing of a meteor shower as smoothly as if she was up there when it happened, half an hour ago. Ola matches her pace with her mouth, skimming kisses down her ribcage. Lily’s imagination turns her own bellybutton into the deep crater of a moon which the ship sets down to explore. (Lily is very kinky about her bellybutton being probed by Ola’s tongue, and Ola’s not going to leave that out, even if they are going in a different direction than usual.)

Progressing, Ola hooks her fingers into the waist of Lily’s leggings and, undistracted, Lily makes the story sound like something she’s reading out of a book—the spaceship setting a course that will take it beyond the most distant line humankind has ever drawn in the universe, farther than it’s ever been before. For Ola, touching Lily below her navel is far from uncharted territory. And yet, she’s sort of enjoying the dramatics.

Lily keeps the story fertile with details another storyteller would make dull (spaceship maintenance, the sleep schedule of the crew), but which grow like lush, otherworldly flora coming from her. The human interest side of things accompanies Ola’s descent as she strips the leggings down. Although they only get as far as the top of Lily’s boots, the leggings are stretchy enough to let her girlfriend part her knees so Ola can kiss lower.

A little lower.

Barely.

“I don’t think this is going to work,” Ola says with a laugh, raising an apologetic hand to interrupt her girlfriend.

“I do think I might be cold if I take everything off completely.”

“Well… hmm…”

While Ola’s still appraising the situation, Lily’s face lights up with epiphany. Legs locked stiffly together, she raises them into the air. Ola climbs off of her to see what she’s up to.

“Are you sure you’re going to be able to stay like that?” Ola questions, watching her girlfriend’s legs waver at a 45-degree angle to the ground.

“I won’t need to if you crawl underneath!”

Thank goodness Lily isn’t shy with her. Instead, it’s funny for them both when Ola moves down to lie on her stomach. Lily parts her legs enough to hook the half-lowered leggings behind Ola’s head, Ola’s face poking between her thighs. Lily lowers her legs back down until they rest on Ola’s shoulders and, basically, they’re in business. Holding happily to the top of her girlfriend’s naked thighs, Ola peruses Lily’s body admiringly before ducking her head.

“The nebula,” her girlfriend breathes, as Ola’s kisses near the soft nest of Lily’s pubic hair. The boundary’s been made unnatural by the squiggly shape Lily’s attempted to shave into it (something Ola might have called silly before her resolution of open-mindedness), and Lily uses that as fuel for the plot, making the spaceship’s journey treacherous, full of objects to navigate around. In reality, Ola pecks a straight line down to Lily’s cunt. Honestly, she’s relieved at the extra evidence—beyond Lily’s expression, her readiness to undress out-of-doors, and the quick pants that’ve become part of her breathing pattern—that Lily’s into this.

Ola wraps her arms farther around the top of Lily’s thighs until she’s able to brush her fingers between them, thumbing her girlfriend’s labia apart. Gosh, they haven’t done this in weeks, which is ages for them. The last vulva Ola saw was iced onto the top of a cupcake.

With Lily held open, Ola licks deftly between her legs with the tip of her tongue. Her girlfriend’s voice trembles. When Ola’s worked her way inward until she’s ringing just inside Lily’s vagina, Lily’s hand comes down and lands on the top of her head. She doesn’t really want it there though, isn’t being forceful. Ola understands this reaction, a common one from her girlfriend when she’s being eaten out, and frees one hand, blindly offering it up. Lily links their fingers together. Their joined hands fall next to her hip.

“Closer,” Lily gasps, arousal seeping slowly over and under Ola’s tongue. Her other hand slips down Ola’s neck and into the back of her top where she’s warm, almost sweaty, with the heat of being turned on. “They’re getting closer to the star.”

The commitment to the story, every time, is something Ola loves about her.

And so she indulges her girlfriend, sliding her tongue higher, easing a finger into Lily’s vagina to perform an unhurried in-and-out while her mouth closes in on her clitoris. Ola’s own clit is desperate for a fingering, blood pumping strongly towards her groin inside her baggy jeans, but she can wait, get Lily off first. Whenever they pleasure each other in that order, Lily always comes alive after, flipping Ola onto her back and smothering her in enthusiastic kisses and caresses.

Picturing this as the likely near-future, Ola hums blissfully against Lily’s clit (Lily squirms and lets out one of her moans that sound like a ghostly wail—yeah, Ola kind of loves those too). She closes her eyes to intensify the sensations and does the rest by familiar feel.

Her girlfriend babbles now, about the spaceship orbiting the new star that’s forming while Ola teasingly orbits her clit with her tongue. It takes a lot of effort to separate Lily from one of her stories when she’s on a roll, but broad, firm licks to her clit are enough to pull even Ola’s one-foot-in-outer-space girlfriend into the present moment.

“Oh god, Ola, I can almost see the cosmic angels,” Lily whines, striving exquisitely towards climax. “I’m going to see cosmic angels.”

Ola believes her. She believed this hill was special, she will believe in aliens, and right now she believes that Lily’s imminent orgasm looks like a flock of cosmic angels behind her eyelids. Sure. Why not? Her hand clasps harder to her girlfriend’s. She doesn’t care that Lily’s rerouted to the fantastical right at the end. They’re real. The elements that got them here are real: Lily’s storytelling, Ola’s desire to feel close to her in a world that wasn’t only Lily’s, loneliness, love.

Without speaking very loudly, Ola knows her voice will carry to her girlfriend’s ears—this evening, silver and pointed.

“Glenoxi,” she groans rapturously against Lily’s clit.

Lily’s hips buck once, then her body buckles, fingers twisting with Ola’s. Her voice rises brokenly into the night and Ola is on fire with how much she wants her.

Ola wipes her mouth on the blanket while Lily catches her breath. She quit moving her finger when her girlfriend clenched around it and came, but now she begins to hook it shallowly inside Lily’s sopping channel, coaxing her.

“You wanna again?” Ola asks, grinning between planting gentle kisses on Lily’s inner thigh.

“Yes,” Lily sighs. She twitches their joined hands. “But come up here beside me so I can take your jeans off. I want—”

There’s a snapping sound and Ola jerks her head up as much as she can in her current position. Under a hundred feet from them, someone’s standing, raising the chunky green glowstick they must’ve just found, dropped in the grass by an Eighth attendee, and cracked. The person turns, looks their way. Freezes. They won’t be able to see everything in the dark. Not everything, but enough. Ola hears a noise of surprise.

“Um,” she says, thinking quickly. Louder, she calls to the accidental intruder: “The aliens just beamed down this human woman! Quick! Go find a scientist!”

The person spins and runs in the opposite direction, back over the crest of the hill.

Ola looks down at Lily, who stares curiously back.

“Do you think they’ve gone to find a scientist?”

“No,” Ola yelps giddily, “I think they’ve gone to call the police because they’ve just seen two people fucking on a public hillside.”

“Are you sure they’ll think that? Your cover was rather good.”

“Thanks,” Ola says, extricating herself from between her girlfriend’s legs, “but yes! We’ve got to go!”

They scramble to their feet, Lily yanking her leggings back up. There isn’t time to fuss with the rest of her costume, so she snatches it up, clutching it to her chest along with the sign she brought. Once Ola’s grabbed their candle and gathered the blanket into a sloppy bundle in her arms, they sprint for the road and onward to Lily’s house.

The glow of the candle and Lily’s cape, reflecting it, are streaks of light in the black.

A blaze of brightness and joy. Their own two-person audience of believers.

#my writing #Sex Education #Sex Education spoilers #Ola Nyman #Lily Iglehart #Ola x Lily #Lily x Ola #Sex Education fanfiction

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whosemorales · 3 years

Text

A Moment In Time - Pt 2

Harry was going to pass out. His parents stood right in front of him, alive, breathing, and six years younger. The air in his lungs had returned, but that wasn't a good thing, every breath was coming out as a gasp. He needed to get out of here.

Shuffling back Harry got up as quickly as he could and with one last glance at his parent’s perplexed faces, he ran. He ran faster than he ever had in his entire life, he could hear his heart beating in his ears and at certain times he felt like his feet had left the ground. But he didn't stop, and he didn't dare look back, he kept running down corridors and up stairs pushing himself that much further.

Where the hell was he? How were his parents here?! How were they alive?! He needed to get to the-

His thoughts were cut off as he smashed into another person, but this time neither of them fell over. They merely grabbed onto his shoulders to steady him.

"Potter! What in the world are you-" McGonagall stopped as she saw his face. Harry had never been more thankful to see his head of house, maybe she could help him.

"Professor! I really need your help I-" She held up her hand and he stopped talking immediately.

Turning on her heel McGonagall started off to what Harry assumed was the direction of her office, give the area they were in. Not knowing what else to do Harry quickened his steps to walk in time with her. When they reached her office McGonagall held open the door and gently pushed him inside before shutting it. She walked straight past him and sat down at her desk and flicked her wand. Harry watched as the teapot that had been sitting on the edge of the table started to steam before floating over to two cups and filling them up halfway.

“Take a seat Potter,” She gestured to the chair that sat in front of her desk. As if it had heard her the chair pulled itself out for him to sit down. McGonagall moved the tray that the cups were resting on a bit closer to herself and Harry watched as she picked up a small spoon and scooped some sugar into one of the cups.

“Sugar?” She looked up at him.

“Two scoops. Um, Professor-”

“Biscuit?”

“Uh, one please.” Why was she being so calm?

McGonagall flicked her wand again and a plate with both the cup and biscuit moved closer to him. Harry looked down into the cup and watch as the ripples in the tea dissipated. Did she know what had happened? Is that why she was so calm? He looked back up to Professor McGonagall to find her watching him with a bemused expression.

Harry frowned. “Professor McGonagall I need your help-”

“I have to say that I am rather surprised that you of all people would need my help in this particular area, then again, I’m assuming either Mr Black or Mr Lupin thought this would be a great idea-”

“Mr Black?” Harry was confused, what in the world was she on about?

“Or Mr Lupin, to be fair I have to say that I believe that this particular work was Mr Lupin’s idea, though why he thought to change other features is beyond me but it is more effective, and it has clearly lasted longer without you noticing-”

“Noticing what?”

Now Professor McGonagall looked confused. “That you have Lily’s eyes.”

Harry’s frown deepened. “I know.”

“Well then,” she let out a soft chuckle. “I’d be more than happy to change you back to your normal self, not that Lily’s eyes don’t suit you but rather the fact that I am quite certain Miss Evans is none too pleased with your new look. That would also explain why you were in such a hurry to get away from the Great Hall before she found out.”

Harry’s eyes were wide. She thought he was James.

“No, Professor there’s been a misunderstanding. I’m not James Potter.”

McGonagall’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Well unless you have lost your memory in the last 5 minutes, then I’m quite sure that you are James Potter, Mr Potter.”

“No, Professor you don’t understand, urgh,” Harry stood up and paced running his hands through his hair. How the hell was he supposed to explain this?

“Mr Potter, just take a deep breath, I’m sure whatever it is that I will understand.”

Harry looked at her for a second, she looked a lot more concerned than when she had thought he had been transfigured by another student, but maybe that was because that was a usual occurrence for her.

“Look Professor, I’m not from here, I’m from the… future.” God that sounded like the biggest load of crap.

Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows and tilted her head down to look at him above her glasses. “Mr Potter, I think that’s quite enough.”

“Ok, if you don’t believe me then try and change me back, I can guarantee you that nothing will happen.”

She seemed to think about it for a moment before raising her wand. Harry felt a weird tingle go through his body but other than that nothing else. Professor McGonagall’s eyes widened slightly as nothing happened, but she straightened her back and lowered her wand.

“What year is it there?” She asked, seeming to understand that what he was saying was true.

“1996,” he answered.

McGonagall seemed slightly taken aback. “And by your appearance, I’m assuming that you are indeed a Potter and that James is your father and your mother is-” She stopped then and looked back into Harry’s eyes, a sudden warm smile made its way into her face. “Lily,” she whispered softly. “He did it.” Harry assumed the last part was more to herself than to him.

Harry stood there, not really knowing what else he was supposed to do. Professor McGonagall looked as though she was in deep thought so he didn’t dare interrupt her.

“How did you find yourself here? I want every detail.”

Harry moved to sit back down. “I was in The Room Of Requirement and I found this sort of mirror thing, it had this strange writing along the rim, and I reached out to brush the dust off it and I fell through and ended up here, although I didn’t know that anything was wrong until I got to the Great Hall and realised that I didn’t recognise anyone, and then I ran into my Mum and Dad.” Her eyes widened slightly but she nodded.

“Did you speak to each other?”

“No, we kind of just stared at each other until I got up and ran, that’s when I ran into you.” Harry thought back to his parents. Were they still there? Did they go back to dinner? Had they come looking for him?

“I see,” She murmured. “It must be quite strange to see your parents this young when they are obviously older in your time.”

Harry held his tongue and forced himself to nod. He didn’t know much about time, but he doubted that he was supposed to tell Professor McGonagall the truth. Who knows what kind of damage that could cause, then again, he didn’t know how much damage had already occurred by him being here in the first place. It’s not like it was his fault, he hadn’t been trying to go back in time, he was trying to clean off the stupid mirror.

“What should I call you?” Professor McGonagall’s question brought him out of his thoughts.

“Harry.”

“Harry.” She repeated nodding again. “When were you born?”

“1980.”

Shock entered McGonagall’s eyes for the first time that night. “James Potter becomes a father in 5 years.” Out of all the information that she had received in the last 10 minutes this was the most shocking?

“Do you know how I can get back?”

Professor McGonagall’s expression softened. “I’m sorry Harry, I have no idea how to help you get back. But don’t worry I’ll have you back with your parents in no time.”

It was even harder to keep the anguish off his face this time, but he nodded nonetheless. “Thank you, Professor.”

“Now in the meantime, I’m afraid you’re going to have to attend our classes here. I’ll have a speak with Albus and we’ll get you settled in.”

“Are you going to tell him where I’m from?”

“No. I feel the less people that know the truth the better. But that also means that we’ll have to come up with a story as to why you are arriving in the middle of the year. I’ll also have to change your features as it is way too obvious that you are related to James and Lily, is that alright with you Harry?”

“Yes, Professor.”

McGonagall raised her wand and Harry felt the same tingling sensation he had felt before though this time he knew it was actually doing something. When she was done McGonagall lowered her wand and turned around, grabbing a mirror for him to look into. When he did he was shocked. Not much had changed except for the few distinctive features that he and his Dad shared, his hair was more brown than black and it seemed to match perfectly to his now brown eyes. He didn’t like it.

“It may not be what you had hoped for,” Professor McGonagall cut in seeming to read his mind. He wasn’t surprised that this younger version of his head of house also seemed to have this ability. “But it is necessary if we are to keep up appearances.”

Harry nodded. She was right.

“As for your sleeping arrangements, I’m afraid I can’t place you in Gryffindor Tower tonight as that would raise too many questions.”

“How do you-”

“Know you’re in Gryffindor?” She finished with a smile. “Harry, I wouldn’t expect anything less from the son of James and Lily, I’m sure they were overjoyed when they heard the news.”

Harry smiled sadly. “Yeah, I’m sure they were.”

“So until we can get you officially sorted into Gryffindor again then I’m afraid you’ll have to stay in one of our guestrooms.”

“That’s fine.”

McGonagall seemed happy with his answer, standing up she led him out of her office, down about three corridors, and up one winding staircase before they came to a door.

“You should get some sleep Potter, I expect you’ve been through quite an ordeal.”

Harry smiled at her. “Thank you, Professor.”

McGonagall gave him one last smile before she turned on her heel and headed back the way they had come. Harry opened the door and was a little shocked to see a warm fire going and nightwear already set out for him. But given that he went to a magical school and had currently travelled back in time, clothes and fire shouldn’t really be that surprising. Quickly changing into his nightwear and getting into bed Harry gently laid his wand and his glasses on the nightstand beside the bed before turning back to look at the ceiling.

He had met his parents. Well, there were no hi’s and hello’s but he’d seen them, which was more than he could have said 10 hours ago. They were here, alive and well, sleeping somewhere in this castle. Harry thought back to his Mum and Dad, after all the years of people telling him he had his Mother’s eyes, he’d never really thought that their eyes were identical, but they were. And his Dad, they looked almost exactly the same, of course, there were a few different facial features but besides that, it was clear that Harry was his son.

Even though Harry hadn’t done anything but stare at them, he could tell that he missed out on a great deal of happy memories. Just one meeting and Harry could tell that his childhood would have been one of the best things he had ever experienced. A childhood that was filled with warm hugs, laughter, fun, and everything in between. It would have been filled with vast stories, parents to tuck him in at night, parents to hold him when he cried and tell him that everything would be ok. Parents that would have helped him grab all the things he needed for Hogwarts and parents that would have wanted him to come home for Christmas, parents that would have spoiled him rotten but always kept him humble, parents that would have loved him no matter what, parents that would always want to see him happy. Those were the parents that Harry never got to have. Those were the parents that Harry now had the chance of meeting, even if they didn’t know it.

And for the first time in a while, Harry cried himself to sleep, finding comfort in the fact that no one could hear him.

#harry meets james and lily #harry potter #james potter #lily evans #jily #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar #marauders era #hogwarts #time travel

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uas-fics · 3 years

Text

Title: Hop and Gloria to the Rescue!

Rating: G

Summary: Gloria and Hop are finally home for a visit after their stays in the far-off Crown Tundra and the Isle of Armor, respectively. But what's this? Someone is breaking into Hop's house!? And Leon's there alone? They have to save him!

Ships: Leon x Piers

Content Warnings: Mild spoilers for the SwSh post games and DLCs

Read on AO3

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"Anything but curry. Let's agree to that."

"Oh, definitely!"

Hop rubbed his stomach. "If I ever see another Max Mushroom curry in my life, it'll be too soon."

"At least the Dojo has a snack machine!" Gloria bumped into his shoulder with her own. "You know what I got to eat? Camp curry and carrots."

"So that means you got the best eyesight now, don't it?" Hop teased.

Gloria wrinkled up her nose. She moved to push Hop forward, but he dodged. She snorted. A smile played on her face.

For the last few months, the Galar continent separated the best friends, with Gloria exploring the Crown Tundra and Hop studying in the Isle of Armor. They kept in touch, of course, texting, calling,and sending pictures of interesting pokemon they saw, but none of that compared to walking and chatting with each other on their journey home to Postwick.

Both trainers had so much to tell everyone and each other.

Notebooks weighted down Hop's pack. Each one filled with notes, sketches, and photographs about the pokemon he'd been studying on the Isle of Armor. One, in particular, had a blurry photo of a black and pink bird pokemon that sped by the front of the Dojo one afternoon.

Hop already knew exactly how he would convince Gloria to help him track it down.

Gloria's pack, on the other hand, held a folder with all the notes she'd taken from her own journeys around The Crown Tundra with Peony. If the pictures of the Legendary pokemon didn't leave Hop gobsmacked, then seeing them registered in her Pokedex would!

Of course, once he knew she was tracking down Moltres somewhere in the Isle of Armor, he would have to join her.

But all that could wait until after a few days rest with their families.

Patchy clouds darkened the sun as the two crested the final hill to Postwick. Far in the distance, over the Slumbering Weald, the heavy clouds poured down. The travelers missed the deluge by less than an hour.

Gloria took a deep breath, enjoying air that didn't fill her lungs with an icy chill. Coming home a day earlier than she'd told her mum turned out to be the right idea.

Not just their families would be elated to see them. Gloria had message after message from Marnie: how she was improving her gym and the new boutique that opened near the Spikemuth pokemon center--and about The Big Secret.

Marnie had taunted her with the huge, life changing secret that was too sensitive to tell over the phone for weeks now. If Gloria wanted to know what the secret was, she would have to come to Spikmuth and hear it from Marnie face to face.

Hop ran over to a wooden fence.

"I didn't know how much I'd missed wooloo." He laughed and gestured to a herd of grazing wooloo.

One of the wooloo raised its head at the sound of his voice. It baa'ed at the two before trotting over. It butted its head against Hop's palm. Soon the rest of the herd crowded the fence line, baa-ing in delight at the attention Hop readily gave out.

"Remind me to let Dubwool out after we get home so he can talk to all his old wooloo friends. He's grown even stronger since the last time they all saw him. Master Mustard said he thinks Dubwool is getting stronger faster than even Lee’s Charizard did."

Hop scratched a wooloo under the chin. It bleated in delight.

Gloria leaned her arms on the fence. "Speaking of Leon, will he be home too? My pokemon are itching for a battle with him." She fingered the pokeballs at her belt.

If Cinderace didn't get a chance to battle Leon's Charizard, he would give Gloria the silent treatment for a week. After all the rememensing about the amazing championship battle Gloria and Leon had, Calyrex, too, wanted a good look at the former champion. Not to mention the rest of her team wanted to test their strength against the toughest trainer they knew.

Hop jumped back from the fence, much to the sorrow of the wooloo herd. "He should be. Lee told me he's been helping Mum and my grandparents around the house the last week or so."

"Well, if he's not home," Gloria punched her fist into her palm, "I'll go drag him back to Postwick myself."

Hop chuckled as he spun around towards Postwick. He wished he could see that: Tiny Gloria carrying his big brother over her head all the way through the Wild Area and back home. It was almost too bad Lee wouldn't miss a chance to see his little brother after so long apart.

He opened his mouth to tell Gloria as much when something caught his eye. He shielded his eyes from the sun and squinted.

"What's that?" He pointed.

Gloria followed his finger to see a figure in black with a hood pulled up walk through the gate to Hop's house. The figure shut the gate behind them before passing a large tree and leaving her sight.

"I dunno, but it gives me a bad feeling." Gloria grabbed Hop's wrist. "C'mon! Let's investigate!"

They hurried down the road until they came to the edge of the stone wall that surrounded Hop's home.

"Do you think we should go inside? What if that's a burglar? Should we call the police?" Hop asked. His fingers brushed his rotomphone in his pocket.

"Not yet. Let's see if we can tell what's going on first."

Gloria dropped her bag. With a leap, she effortlessly cleared the wall. She rushed past the tree and to the shed beside the house. Hop shouldered off his heavy pack and mimicked her until both their backs pressed against the worn paint of the shed.

"There's a window 'round the side of the shed. It looks into the kitchen." Hop jerked his head towards the house. "Let's see if we can see anything."

At the edge of the shed, Gloria and Hop exchanged looks. They nodded at each other then dropped to their stomachs in the wet grass. The smell of soggy earth filled their noses. They army crawled to the side of the house.

Hop's grandfather, or maybe even Leon, had recently cleared the leaf litter from around the shed into a tidy pile beside the house. The pile blocked their path like a sodded brown mountain.

Gloria started to ask, "Should we go arou--" when the kitchen window opened.

Hop slapped a hand over her mouth and pulled her until they were right next to the leaf litter pile.

A voice floated out the window.

"...won't be back until tonight."

Hop stiffened.

Leon! That was Leon's voice! So he was home. What about the burglar? The figure who walked through the gate. Did that person know Leon was home too? Did Leon know he wasn't alone?

Leon stuck his head out the window and gazed at the sky. "Rain's well past," he said before pulling his head back in.

Gloria held Hop against the wall to stop him from jumping out of their hiding place and dragging Leon out of the window by his shoulders.

She put a finger to her lips. "We don't know if anyone is in there with him yet," She hissed into his ear. "We don't want to scare him over nothing."

Hop swallowed the lump of worry in his throat. Gloria was right, of course. Maybe the figure was just cutting through his yard. People did that all the time, didn't they?

A hand with skin much too pale to be Leon's came from the window. It turned, palm to the sky, before returning to the house. The window shut with a click.

Hop and Gloria's eyes met.

There was someone in the house, someone beside Leon.

Without another word, the two crawled around the leaf pile and to the window. They waited a few heart-pounding moments before, carefully, peeking into the kitchen.

The figure in black, hood still up, had their back to Hop and Gloria. A sharp knife stuck out from their sleeves.

The figure started to turn towards the window. Hop and Gloria ducked down. Their hearts threatened to tear right out of their chests.

"Oh, Arceus." Hop sucked in a breath, going to his knees.

She put her hands on Hop's shoulders and shook him once. "Do you know what this means? It's not a burglar! It's a murderer!"

"But why? Who would want to hurt Leon? He is the greatest Champion Galar's ever had!" He paused a beat then added, "Ah, I mean--"

Gloria cut him off with a wave of her hand. "That's probably why! He must know something someone doesn't want him to. He has to have some top secret information about the League or someone very powerful."

"So they sent an assassin!" Hop interjected.

"Maybe more than one!"

Then, like a feedback loop of movie cliches, the mysterious figure walking through Hop's gate turned into a burglar, then murderer, then one of a team of well trained ninja assassins from Kanto coming to either kidnap Leon to extort information out of him or kill him to keep him from talking.

Midway through Hop's edition of a secret underground society of pokemon psychics, a scream pierced the air from inside the house.

"Lee!" Hop jumped to his feet.

He ran to the front of the house, weaving around the set of metal chairs and table near the kitchen door, and skidded to a stop, sending mud and wet grass up into the air.

He took a pokeball from his belt. "Dubwool, come out!"

In a flash of light, Hop's dubwool appeared. He shook out his fleece. For a moment, excitement rose on Dubwool's face upon being home. It disappeared when he looked at Hop's terrified expression.

Gloria let out her Cinderace. Cinderace took a breath for an delighted shout but Gloria shushed him with a hand over his mouth.

"There is an assassin in Hop's house trying to kidnap Leon," She explained quickly to the pokemon. "They probably have the door blocked, so we need to break it in then take out the assassin, got it?"

Dubwool and Cinderace nodded without a second’s hesitation. Their trainers knew exactly what was going on, and the pokemon always trusted their judgement.

Hop picked up one of the metal garden chairs and Gloria the other. They weren't much for weapons or protection, but they were better than nothing.

Another scream made all four jump.

"Let's go! Dubwool, use slam on the door!" Hop ordered, throwing out his arm.

Dubwool bleated. He pawed at the dirt once, twice, then rammed, horns first, into the door. The door flew from the hinges and crashed into the stairs across the hall. Photos rattled and fell to the floor with a shattering glass. Shards of glass scattered across fleece as Dubwool righted himself.

With a war cry, Hop, Gloria, and Cinderace raced through the door.

Cinderace jumped onto the broken door and used it as a springboard to leap across the living room.

"What in the world?" Leon jumped up from the couch in time for Cinderace's foot to plant firmly on his chest. His hat flew off his head as he landed, pinned between the wall and Cinderace's foot.

Gloria raised the chair above her head and threw it as another head came up from the couch.

The assassin ducked in time to miss the metal chair, but not the Dubwool who jumped over the couch to land on them with a victorious bleat.

The shelf above Leon swung down by one nail, disturbed by the chair hitting the wall. A trophy rolled and landed square on Leon's head with a bell-like ring.

Hop darted around the chaos towards his brother, his chair forgotten by the mess near the broken door.

"Lee!" Hop pushed a shocked Cinderace away and crouched next to Leon.

"H...Hop?" Leon squinted. "What are you doing here?" He winced, holding his head. A nice sized lump began to grow where the trophy collided with Leon’s skull.

Before Hop could answer, Gloria took a pillow from the couch and began beating the only part of the assassin's body that wasn't under a mass of thick wool--their thrashing legs.

"How do you like it, huh? You're not killing any champions on my watch! Bam! Ha! Boom! Take that, assassin!" She cried, repeatedly slamming the pillow against the assassin's ankles.

Leon gasped. "S-stop! Gloria, stop!" He tried to stand, but could barely lift himself up without falling back.

Hop wrapped his arms around Leon's shoulders protectively. Why in the world would he want them to stop? That assassin was trying to kidnap him, take him to their underground base, and torture him for information!

"Get the 'ell offa me!" The assassin yelled. With a grunt of effort, they pushed Dubwool off.

The sheep pokemon rolled onto his back, hooves waving in the air. Gloria quickly changed her angle and slammed the pillow into the assassin's face.

I hope I broke this jerk's nose! Gloria thought, though she didn't hear any cartilage crunching against her attack.

A pale hand gripped the pillow and tore it from her hands.

"What was all that for?" A familiar person demanded, throwing the pillowing back at Gloria. It hit her face and landed in a sad lump on the ground.

"Piers?"

Piers narrowed his eyes. A chill worse than anything she felt in the Crown Tundra ran up her spine at his icy glare.

"Did you throw a chair at me?" He demanded.

"I, I, uh..." Gloria floundered.

What was going on? Why was Piers, of all people, here? He wasn't a gym leader anymore, so he didn't need to talk to Leon about the League. Gloria couldn't think of a single reason the two would ever be in the same place together.

Unless something was wrong with Marnie. Was that The Big Secret she wanted to tell her? Had Marnie broken some sort of huge rule? Did something bad happen? Was her best gal friend in trouble?

Leon groaned again. Piers moved his gaze from Gloria and towards Leon. He jumped to his feet and hurried over.

"Leon? Are you alright?" He winced, seeing the blooming bruise on his forehead.

Hop tightened his grip on his brother. His head spun. Had his and Gloria's grand plan to save Leon been for nothing? No way they were wrong about the danger Leon had been in.

"I'm ffffffine," Leon slurred, "propsably."

Piers held up three fingers. "How many fingers I got up?"

Leon stared into the middle distance for a few beats longer than he should before squinting at Piers' fingers.

"Six."

Piers groaned, throwing his head back dramatically and slumping his shoulders. "I think you two gave him a concussion."

"Concussion?!" Hop nearly choked on the word. "But, we didn't mean to!"

Cinderace took a few steps around Gloria. He lowered himself to hide behind her, ashamed of the damage he'd caused. She reached back and patted him reassuringly. It wasn’t his fault. If Piers had been an assassin ninja, Cinderace would have just saved Leon from a dagger to the neck.

Piers disentangled Hop from Leon. He put his arm under Leon's and around his back before hoisting him up. Leon tried to take a step on his own, but wobbled back against Piers.

"Let's get you to a doctor. That's a nasty lump." Piers' voice came out softer than Gloria or Hop had ever heard it. To Hop, he asked, "Do we got to go all the way to the next town or is there a doctor in Postwick."

Hop's mouth gaped before he shook himself. "There's not, but if I call the one in Wedgehurt, he can be here in a jiffy." He already had his rotomphone out before he finished speaking.

Gloria, feeling useless standing there like a slowpoke on a stone, went to roll Dubwool back to his hooves. She dusted some of the wood chips and glass shards from his fleece. A few chips hit the cracked screen of a laptop on the floor.

She had a feeling she would be paying for that, and for everything else...

Leon rested his weight against Piers' side.

"Surry," He muttered. "This didn't go alls well 't all."

Piers shrugged as he carefully helped Leon through the broken mess on the floor.

"Believe it or not, this still isn’t the worst date I've ever been on."

Hop dropped the rotomphone and Gloria fell over herself, landing on the other side of Dubwool.

"Date?"

------

Piers shook the rain off his coat.

“Walk more,” they said.

“It's good for you,” they said.

“The weather is great today,” they said.

Bull crap!

That's the last time he takes his gym trainers' advice on the weather--no, not his gym trainers. They were Marnie's now. He hadn’t been a gym leader in a few months, but sometimes that fact still slipped his mind.

He should have gotten a taxi to Postwick. That way he wouldn't have gotten caught in the rain.

He hurried down the road to Leon's house. He opened the gate, surprised it didn't screech in protest. Well, Leon did say he'd been doing handiwork around his family's house recently. He probably oiled the gate.

Or maybe Piers just wasn't used to gates that didn't squeak from years of rust.

He shut the gate behind him as he wondered if he could talk Leon into helping him around Spikemuth's gym. Marnie might be the gym leader, but that didn't mean Piers couldn't still keep the gym up to snuff.

Leon opened the door after the second knock. He wore a floral themed apron with his sleeves rolled past his elbows and hair pulled back at the nape of his neck.

He covered a chuckle.

"Spooky. Are you the grim reaper today?" He gestured at the long black coat and hood.

Piers rolled his eyes and pushed the hood back. How he fit all of his hair in the hood, Leon couldn't fathom a guess.

Leon gestured for him to follow him to the kitchen. Piers peeled off his coat and draped it over a kitchen chair. Leon reached back to untie the apron.

"I lost track of time," he explained, hanging the apron on a hook. "I promised Mum I'd get the kitchen spick and span for tomorrow."

"How kind."

Hop came back tomorrow from the Isle of Armor. Piers' knew that well at this point. It seemed every other conversation lately had been about how excited Leon was about his little brother's return.

Leon couldn't wait to hear what kind of research Hop was doing and what kind of pokemon he'd met and all about how everything at the Dojo was.

Of course, Gloria was supposed to come back too. Neither Leon nor Piers had ever been to the Crown Tundra, but they knew the rumors of the incredibly strong pokemon that live in the barren, frozen north of Galar.

Both of them knew they would need to battle the current champ to see just how strong she'd become before she left to continue her explorations.

Piers peered around the kitchen. As far as he could tell, it looked fine. All the counters were clean and the cobwebs dusted from the corners, but he still asked, "D’you need help?" anyway.

Leon shook his head. "No. It's just a few dishes I have to do." He jerked his head to the sink.

In fact, Leon started cleaning all the nooks and crannies of the kitchen right after breakfast. He intended to finish well before Piers showed up, but only having a few pieces of silverware left wasn't that bad.

Piers took a dish towel from beside the sink and dropped it. Using his foot, he mopped up the puddle he and his coat created on the tiled floor. With one quick movement, he hooked the towel with his toe and kicked it up into his waiting hand.

"You're welcome." He tossed the towel next to the sink.

Leon snorted a laugh. "Thanks."

"When is your family 'ppose to be back? The movie isn't that long, but..." Piers trailed off, rolling his wrist to finish the comment.

Leon didn't need him to finish to know what he was talking about. They were a little secret, for the time being. Only the bare minimum of people knew they were dating, and Leon had been putting off explaining the situation to his family until after Hop and Gloria’s homecoming.

"My grandparents are visiting friends in Ballonlea. My and Gloria's mums are in Hammerlock, so, they," Leon opened the window over the sink, "won't be back until tonight."

Leaning over the sink, he poked his head out and looked up. The dark rain clouds moved on, leaving Postwick humid, but drying. A weather Piers didn’t seem to mind, though Leon couldn’t wrap his head around the idea of humidity being better than a sunny afternoon.

"Rain's well past."

Piers strode next to him and stuck his hand out the window. He turned his palm up, half expecting more rain, before pulling it back in. He shut the window.

"Too bad," he smiled slyly, "a scary movie is always better with some thunder and lightnin' in the background."

"I wouldn't want Hop treading home through mud," Leon replied, only half joking.

Piers took his coat from the chair and draped it over Leon's shoulders. He chuckled and patted his warm cheek.

"It's cute you care so much about your bro like that."

A faint blush crossed Leon's cheeks. Their faces were so close. It wouldn't take much to close the gap and--

"We should start the movie soon." Piers stole a step away. "We're doing this in the living room, yeah?"

Before he could get any farther, Leon took hold of his wrist and gently pulled him back. He placed a kiss on his cheek.

"I have to empty the sink first, so don't miss me too much."

Although he knew it was unlikely, Leon wished his impromptu romantic gesture would leave the formidable dark-type trainer flustered. It didn't, of course. Leon had only ever gotten him blushing and gobsmacked once, when he first proposed the idea of a date between the two.

Piers shook his head with a smile then pulled the hood over Leon's head.

"Smooth as a druddigon."

He paused, mentally storing that line away. It could make a good lyric someday. Smooth as a druddigon, loving as a gorbis? Bisharp?

He'd work on it later.

With Piers out of the kitchen, Leon sighed in defeat. Maybe next time he'd get him.

Instead of taking off Piers' coat, he put his arms through the sleeves. Piers was taller than him by a half a head, so the sleeves fell past his hands

Leon took the last fork and spoons from the sink and set them aside. Careful of the blade, he took a knife out. Mum used the knife to chop vegetables for dinner the night before, so it was a relatively easy clean.

Leon shuddered. The coat wasn't even that warm. Did Piers only wear it for the style? He turned away from the sink, knife still in hand and lifted an arm. At least the material seemed to dry fast after being caught in the rain. Maybe that's why Piers wore it?

As he turned back to the sink, something moved out of the corner of his eye. He frowned. Did a rookidee fly down from the tree in the yard just then? Setting the knife aside, he reached to open the window again when a blood curdling scream made him jump.

With his hand to his pounding heart, he hurried to the living room.

"What was that?"

Piers nodded to the laptop set up in front of him on the coffee table.

Leon craned his neck towards the laptop screen. The fakest monster costume he had ever seen loomed over a frightened woman on the title screen.

"Night Of the Living Nightmare" the title read in a dripping green and purple font.

When Piers said he had a classic of Galar indie horror to show him, Leon expected a movie with thrilling psychological horror and innovative use of pokemon moves for special effects, not a repainted rubber gyarados mask with extra teeth glued in.

"How old is this movie?" Leon asked, taking off Piers' fashionable, but impractical, coat.

"Would you believe me if I told you it was made only eight years ago?" Piers took the coat from Leon and tossed it in the corner of the couch.

"Really?" He sat next to Peers.

Piers scooted over and pressed against his side. Leon always felt warm, which was part of the reason Piers took his less than warm coat with him. A good excuse to get close as they watched the movie. At least one of them was actually smooth.

He hummed the affirmative.

'The Night Of The Living Nightmare' was a terribly cheesy movie. The fake blood wasn't thick enough, the teeth on the mask fell off half way through, the editing made scenes drag on much too long, and the actors either over exaggerated their lines or delivered them with as much life as a dead magikarp.

All together, 'The Night Of The Living Nightmare' made for a good date movie in Piers' opinion.

"Ready?" Piers already hit play before Leon could answer.

The movie started with a scene of a woman rising up out of a pool. The camera lingered on her chest and stomach and legs before it panned back towards the water. A ripple skittered across the pool water.

The scales on the wishiwashi making the waves gleamed in the harsh set lighting.

The woman dried her hair with a bright pink beach towel. She hummed a pop song that Leon remembered being popular when he was a teenager, but couldn’t recall the name off.

A set of rubber fins slapped against the pool tile. The music grew frantic with each wet slap as the monster neared the woman.

A three clawed hand reached out towards the woman. She spun, screamed in terror and--

"Is that a boom mic?" Leon paused the movie and pointed to the mic in the corner of the screen.

"There are at least seven hangin' around in different shots," Piers confirmed. "You think you can find 'em all?"

Now with a goal of finding all the hidden mics, Leon went to hit play again. Before his fingers brushed the space bar, something let out a loud "Baaaa!"

He bolted up in time to see the front door fly off its hinges, followed by a dubwool.The door and dubwool slammed into the steps. Picture frames crashed to the ground. Glass scattered across the floor.

Outside, several people screamed, then a cinderace then leapt over the dubwool.

It ricocheted off the busted door and aimed a well placed kick into Leon's chest.

----

"...And that's what happened before you brusted in." Leon adjusted the ice pack against his head.

The doctor from Wedgehurts said Leon got lucky that Cinderace's attack only left him with some bruises, bumps, and a mild concussion and not broken bones. When he left, the doctor tutted at the broken door and muttered about kids these days.

Piers set a glass of water on the table in front of Leon and two pain pills beside it.

From across the kitchen table, Hop and Gloria avoided looking at the older trainers. How could they let their imagination get away from them like that? Gloria was the Galar champion and Hop was a professor in training, and yet they really believed assassins had broken in.

How foolish! Leon was a champion, too. Of course he could take care of a few assassin's without their help!

"We're really sorry, Lee," Hop muttered then added quickly, "and Piers."

Gloria added in, "We just wanted to help."

"It's not the first time I've been hit by a pokemon, and it probably won't be the last," Leon reassured after he downed the pain killers.

Piers took a seat. He steepled his fingers and looked over Hop and Gloria with a hard, steady gaze. The two squirmed. Should they apologize again? Get on their knees and beg for forgiveness?

"This wasn't how this was s’pposed to go." Piers sighed, turning to look away and releasing the kids from his stare.

Leon nodded in agreement, only to flinch. He blinked hard until the kitchen finally stopped spinning. The doctor told him not to do anything that required much mental or physical exertion, but he didn't particularly have a choice in this case.

The thought of explaining the door, the wall, the shelf, his head, not to mention Piers, made his head pound in anticipation of the confrontation. Mum would be upset about the door, worried about him, and annoyed about Piers being kept a secret from her.

"I don't get," Hop frowned, "why you two keep this a secret from everyone? What's the big deal?"

Leon scratched his cheek with his finger. "Well, ah, that's because--"

"We were breakin’ rules," Piers cut in.

"Rules? What rules?" Hop wrinkled his brow.

Leon was a grown up now, so the rules Mum set up for dating when he was a teenager didn't apply anymore. Or, Hop thought they didn't. Had Leon broken his curfew to spend time with Piers? Did he leave for a date without telling Mum how long he’d be out?

"The Pokemon League rules. Members of The League aren't allowed to date each other. Conflict of interest and all that," Peers explained. "I was still a gym leader and he was still champion when this started." He nodded towards Leon.

Now Hop felt really confused. He couldn't imagine his big brother breaking a rule like that. Then again, he couldn't imagine Leon breaking curfew either, at least not without a really good reason.

Gloria crossed her arms. This was news to her. What a dumb rule. Who cared if a gym leader wanted to date another leader. What if she wanted to go out with a gym leader? The League could try and stop her!

"I don't think we'll get in too much trouble now, but we figured we'd wait it out before saying anything to anyone." Leon switched the hand holding the ice pack. He wanted this conversation over so he could go lay down and stare at the ceiling for a bit.

A thought crossed Gloria's mind just then. Could it be this The Big Secret Marnie had to tell her in person?

"Does Marnie know?"

"That you two nearly suffocated her brother under a hundred kilo of unknit sweater? She will when I get home." Piers glanced at the side of the kitchen where the pokemon were. Dubwool lowered his gaze. Cinderace coughed into his paws and turned to stare out the window.

"No, did Marnie know about you two?"

Piers raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. She knew."

Gloria's eyes gleamed. Now Marnie owed her a new secret, since Gloria knew this one. It was only fair after all! Maybe this whole ordeal was worth it to learn Marnie’s crushes!

Hop asked, "Is there anything we can do to make this up to you two? We messed up, and we deserve it."

Piers and Leon exchanged looks. Piers shrugged. He could always find them something to do at Spikemuth: the less artistic graffiti needed to be washed off walls, trash picked up, or moss scraped off buildings.

Leon, though, was the one who had actually been hurt so he let the punishment for the kids’ transgression be under his discretion.

"I can think of one thing," Leon said. He gestured for Piers to lean towards him. He covered the side of his mouth and whispered into Piers' ear.

Piers cackled and sent Hop and Gloria a smirk.

"Brilliant. Just brilliant." He clasped Leon on the upper arm and squeezed.

Leon set the ice pack on the table. He reached across and put a firm hand on one of Hop's and one of Gloria's shoulders.

He half smiled. "Someone has to tell Mum what happened to the door, and I don't think it will be me."

---

AN: I haven't written a fanfiction in like more than a year. But last year was 2020 so can you blame me?

#pokemon #piers #leon #hop #gloria #piersxleon #one-shot #fanfiction

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thejosh1980 · 3 years

Text

Little Wing

(Trigger warning: animal/pet death)

Today, right now, I am sat at the spot where Mijo felt his last sunrise, just 24 hours ago.

He was 28 weeks old, he spent 20 of those weeks with me, and my family. He was my family. He was thrust upon me by my wife and mum, who knew Mijo would be the kind of birthday present I'd want, but could never ask for.

When he arrived he was unexpected. Straight from the car, into my bedroom, onto my lap, what a surprise, it was love at first sight. Those eyes, that tail, that round belly, the fur, I was all in. I had to say goodbye to 4 beautiful pets whom I loved dearly when I left Germany, so then and there I made a quiet, whisper promise to Mijo;

“I'll never ever leave you”...

We began like any other Daddy and cat story, playing, eating, talking to each other. We may have made a few messes on the bed learning to potty train, but I couldn't really fault him, he was perfect. He loved cuddles, got under our feet all the time, talked to us a lot and wanted to be a part of everything happening around the house.

He meowed very loudly too. Sometimes he'd meow from the next room sounding lost and worried. That's when I started to realized something was very different about him. It took about 2 weeks, but then I realized, he was totally deaf!!!! No vacuum cleaner, loud bangs, claps, or door slams could get his attention. When he meowed loudly, it was either because he had to, to feel himself meowing in his head, or he was missing us and could smell us, but not hear us in the next room. I had never had a cat who couldn't hear me call their name, so this was going to be a challenge.

Mijo accepted that challenge...

In a short time I figured out how to clicker train him, using a torch. I love training cats. Most folks think it's impossible, but I've taught cats to fetch, sit and come on command in the past.... So, pretty soon I had him jumping up, over and across chairs and tables on cue. I also learnt a way to “call” him; assuming he could see me, if I knelt down and tapped my leg, he'd come a running. Every time. We had it all figured out.

Grab a harness and a lead, and off we go, walking around the garden. This wasn't a cat, this was a dog. He had very little fear, I mean, he couldn't even hear the birds making a racket or the car driving by or the dog barking next door. He was fixated on me.

I bought him a blow up boat, to use in the pool, to help him get used to floating on water. It was a huge boat for his little size, but he'd hop in, and I'd “treat” him while he got used to the motion. The plan was to build him up to a real boat, or canoe or SUP. I could imagine him walking on water.

He was also great with other cats, so I could take him to visit his cousin and they'd play all day (if we'd let them). He'd come with me to visit other family and then... well, then the real adventures started. Mijo and I could go to the river, the park and the beach. We also went for coffee at the busiest part in the local village, and he took it all in his stride. We took bike rides too, as he sat in a special backpack I had for him. I could hold him while skateboarding or put him on my shoulder as I walked around. He was chill, happy to see and smell his silent world.

When Alex or I came home, and he'd be in the bedroom snoozing or gazing out the window, we could come in, take off our shoes, put our stuff down, maybe run to the loo, then we could snuggle up with him, cause he hadn't heard us arrive. He would just be waiting... He'd just wait for someone to step close enough, blow on his ear, feel a vibration and then he'd meow a big BIG hello, purr and snuggle. He was a no pressure cat... But always ready for hugs and pats.

Besides being deaf, he just didn't seem like any other cat I'd had or even met...

But isn't the way it is with all pets? They're all unique.

He loved Alex. He always had a hard decision between my lap and hers, or sleeping close to one or the other. We had a son to take care of, to love and to enjoy. At the beginning, Alex wasn't sure about having a cat, she'd pretty much always been a dog person, but it didn't take long for Mijo to wrap her around his little paw. She was hooked.

We thought he was going to be grow up to become a big boy. You know, Maine Coon sized 5-6 or maybe 7 kilo. We had high hopes for a dog-like cat, big enough to take on the world. We wanted to show him the world too.

After he had his snip (desexing) in mid March, he wasn't very well, and it really traumatized all of us, we just weren't sure why he took it so badly. He was in a lot of pain, even though the operation itself was quick and really good, with no issues. He would spend the day, in his “bread loaf” position, with his nose to the ground. It was like he was conserving all his energy for when we came home or wanted his attention.

Eventually, after a few weeks he bounced back, back to being his usual self, for a while. He actually lost a lot of fur during this time, most likely due to a reaction to the antibiotics and pain killers. Where his collar and harness were, he lost all his hair. It only took a few days, a bit too quick to realize what was going on, he rarely wore the collar or harness after that. It meant we sometimes lost him in the house without his bell on to tell which room he was in, so I'd be running around turning on and off the lights to get his attention and a meow.

It was our fun game of “Mijo Polo”.

We had noticed he wasn't eating as much, and he wasn't as playful. In fact, all his toys were being ignored, and he rarely chased anything we teased him with. When we took him for playtime with his cousin, he wouldn't last as long play fighting. Something was up, we thought he'd bounce back by now.

Overall, he was a very chilled cat, having just had an operation and now with, ringworm, a tooth problem (one adult tooth was causing him problems and needed to be pulled) maybe that was why he wasn't too interested in food. Surely it wasn't bacteria, an infection or a virus in his blood.

In early May, Mijo developed ringworm, which, by the way, isn't a worm but rather a fungal infection. The vet already had us on anti fungal cream day and night. It's very unusual to get ringworm; it's all around us, but a strong immune system, actually, a decent immune system, would fight off any infection naturally. Cats generally just lick it all off their fur. Humans sometimes get it, from a scratch or a wound. It's in the soil, it's in the air.

When we got the treatment for the ringworm, we also gave him an appetite stimulant, to encourage him to eat, but it made little difference. As nothing changed, we went back to the vet a few days later, and did a hypothyroidism test; the results were borderline.

What could be going on?

At the time of his desexing operation, he was 1.7 kilos, a week later he was down to 1.5 and eventually 1.45 kilo. His body was growing a little, but his muscle and fat wasn't.

We talked to the vet and decided, even though his ringworm was infectious, the tooth had to go, sooner rather than later. It seemed logical that it was his biggest barrier to fulfilling his dietary requirements and his well being. We wanted him fattening up, growing up, and being his usual self again, ASAP. We needed to get him back on track towards good health, enough was enough.

On Monday 17th May I dropped the little guy off at the vet for the day. A check up and a tooth pull.

Before any cat gets an anesthetic, they run a simple blood test to determine if the cat is well enough. During the day we got a call that the operation couldn't happen, and that he'd have to stay in over night or longer, with meds to help him, because his red cell blood count was low. 10%. Most cats need around 40%, if there's any complication with the tooth pull, his blood may not clot.

It's official, he was very unwell.

I was at school when I got the news. I was in shock. Our little boy was that unwell? But he does eat (a little), he does walk on the lead with me, he's eating his treats... was he that unwell?

Suddenly we had to decide on some expensive tests to figure out what was wrong with him. I mean, the red blood cells were being eaten up by the white ones, but why?? We arranged the suggested tests and they kept him in over night.

I was very distraught. How can my little guy be so unwell yet behave well? With that blood count, he shouldn't be able to walk, he should be so lethargic that he can't keep his head up!! He should be in a coma.

All in all, theoretically, he should be dead.

So was it dwarfism, hypothyroidism, mycoplasma??? And and and?? Tests... Blood being taken.. Our boy in the vet over night, alone, worried, scared??? Will he make it through the night? I didn't sleep well...

On Tuesday afternoon the vet let us bring him home. His blood level was down to 9.1%. The idea was that, at least at home he'd have cuddles and love, and that might help his immune system. He was lethargic but not completely terrible. I would need to bring him in on Wednesday for another blood test, to see how he was doing.

On Wednesday, it didn't go well, Mijo had gone from 9 to 8.1% blood level. It was now becoming almost impossible to get any blood out of him. I saw how difficult it was 2 weeks earlier when he had the hypothyroid test, they had to try on both legs and his neck to get a half mil of blood! He was a champ and barely complained. But now, I couldn't imagine the pain he went through with even less blood.

He's been that sick for how long?? Why hadn't we noticed?

We were panicking.

The vet suggested we meet with a mature, more experienced doc, on Thursday. We should be able to figure something out, we had to. Each day = less blood = more chance of...

Well, I am a hopeful guy. I realize, I live on hope. I spent years hoping certain people in my life would change, or love me in a way that I feel some love. I always hope things will change for the better. I don't know why, but it's ingrained in me to feel hopelessness or hope... I think I'm never in the middle... or is that called acceptance? OK, maybe I do feel that too, eventually... But it takes a long long time...

I have videos of Mijo on Thursday 20th, he's cleaning himself in the sun, meowing and purring, happy to see me, walking around the garden with me. Full of life and adventure.

At lunch time, Mijo and I go to the vet. He is his usual cute self, always curious at the vets, and now there's a the new guy he's meeting, what an adventure.

Before he opens the cat box he said something along the lines of “Well, because his blood levels are so low, today is really about deciding if he goes to heaven or not...” I'm not sure, but I know I heard words like “heaven” and “euthanasia” early on in the consultation. Shock was setting in. I barely heard anything else he said, luckily we had Alex on the speaker phone.

Turns out, not only is our little guy deaf, he's an anomaly.

Any cat with 8.1% should be comatose. They should barely be able to walk. They certainly can't pee or poo without help and don't drink or eat much. Mijo came out of his box and sniffed around, was alert and ready to meet the new guy!!

The vet was stumped. He had never seen this before, in over 30 years...

We didn't know he was so sick, because, he was, overall, a well behaved cat. His weight he lost, sure, but he was now at least stable. He was eating, it just took a lot of creativity sometimes to spark his interest (mostly warming up meals and giving him treats).

The vet tried to explain to me, but I'm sure Alex on the phone understood it clearly, that we had very little time, well, no time. We had 3 choices that day. Go to a specialist an hour's drive away, give Mijo steroids and hope he had mycoplasma or Immune mediated hemolytic anemia (IMHA) or, lastly, euthanasia.

Wait???? What does that even mean??

The specialist would give him a blood transfusion, and some special custom drugs which should help him. The vet said it could cost in the 10s of thousands, and may help Mijo for a few weeks, but it's not a solution that we are sure would be long term or not.

Giving Mijo steroids would give him a fighting chance, or not... Basically it could cure or kill him. Because we aren't sure what is the cause of the low blood count, it could be IMHA, mycoplasma or something else, but it's a best educated guess at this rate. If it is the wrong choice, he may die quicker than expected.

Euthanasia, no explanation needed.

We decided on steroids. According to the vet, there was a 50/50 chance it would work. If the cause of the blood cells killing off each other was for or against steroids, we'd know soon enough. Still shocked I tried to understand it all. I'm so grateful Alex was on the line and knows this stuff through experience and study.

The idea of taking Mijo an hour's drive north to the specialist, to a cubicle, a place where we may not be with him 24/7, on the off chance that he wouldn't make it and die alone, we couldn't fathom that.

Mijo took the steroid injection like a champ, he always did injections well. He was given some antibiotics to also help. The vet said, that by Saturday we'll know if it was the right decision. We'd know if he would be getting better...

It was decided that on Monday 24th we'd go back in for a blood test to actually see if the steroids were working (cause apparently one can't really tell with Mijo's behavior, the cheeky monkey).

Mijo and I came home, and well, he ate, he was purring, sitting on my lap. The usual deal. When I went out to get the washing in, he tried to go out too, something we, as parents, have been very protective about. He doesn't go out alone, he doesn't go out without a lead or a bell. He's not an easy cat to find if he runs off, not that he has ever tried. He deaf, he can't hear cars or other dangers out there.

I promised him I'd take him out to that side of the house/garden that afternoon...

So we did, we went out, we sat down, he explored. He was well, good, better, best. He was my boy. He trusted me, I trusted him. I'm always amazed how well he walks by my side, like a dog, with loose leash... Taking my steps as cues when to walk, and when to stop.

We also met the neighbor's dog, which was a first, both were not really interested in each other... But still, Mijo knew there's a lot to live for...

Overnight he went great... Woke up with him on my chest relaxing waiting for me to get up and feed him, luckily I have a wife who had to get up for work at that moment. I remember she sang him a lullaby and held him like a baby. It was really sweet to see how much love they had for each other. Rock-a-bye Mijo...

We wanted to him feel as much love as we could. We felt that, if the steroids and antibiotics were doing their part, and we did ours, there's nothing he can't beat. And he sure felt the love...

I held him while doing some singing exercises, close to my chest. It was something we hadn't done before, and he purred. He'd look up and meow every time I stopped making vibrations. He felt it, I felt it, it was a connection.

We spent a lot of time, reading, relaxing and sitting on laps. Alex and I cuddled him, told him we loved him. He was really fighting. He was eating. He was a little more playful than in recent weeks. He wanted to live. We could feel it...

He went from eating half a packet to 1.5 packets a day, plus dry food. He always wanted treats, and I was always glad to oblige.

By Saturday he was wonder cat! Kneading... Purring... Chasing toys... Eager to hang out...

We'd overcome the problem! He was getting better. There's fight, love and life left in him. He was amazing. If it hadn't been for his ringworm (which was also healing very very well) I'd say he was perfect, especially once he put on another few grams...

We had 4 awesome days, loads of energy and love. He was never alone in the house, and rarely alone in a room. We wanted him to know, to feel, that we loved him so deeply and that all we want was him in our life, for adventures and cuddles.

On Monday morning, his appetite went down... He didn't really eat much...

We all left for the day, work and school. I think we were all worried, but he'd been so good and improved so so much, that we were sure he'd be fine. We have the blood test booked for the afternoon, I'm sure he'll pep up by then. The injection could be wearing off too...

Mijo and I went in to the vet, and his test came back at 14%!!! Damn, that's 6 points!! The vet expected 3 to be a big improvement. In fact, if he had 3 or less, euthanasia may have been the only option... Happy days! He was well. He's going to live! He'll be fine.

We're not out of the woods yet, but we are in the right direction.

All that love we lavished on him, not just in the past days, but the past 4 months. The adventures, the friends he'd made (both human and animal) the smells and sights he'd seen, the vibrations he felt, it was all coming together... He was a fighter with a lot of love to give...

We were over joyed. Really, I couldn't have been happier when I got the results. I gave a “whoop” and threw my fist in the air (I've never done that before in my life!).

We changed to tablet form steroids, as they'll be better long term, keep up the antibiotics and off we go...

But we all know, that often people and animals, when they know they are dying, they give it one last shot. And that was it... We didn't realize until Wednesday, that he wasn't actually going to get better...

Mijo stopped grooming himself, he slowly ate less and less... He became more and more lethargic, he started to sit in the “bread loaf” position with his nose on the ground, as he did after the snip, resting. We thought it was the change in steroids, and as I was at school and the girls at work, we just kept thinking he'd pep up eventually.

When I left for school Wednesday morning, he was alert, but lethargic. When I came home early to check on him, he had really changed again.

His belly was a little bloated, but he had hardly eaten. He had trouble walking, it seemed like it was a mix of muscle degradation/pain and confusion. His meowing changed to a high pitch cry, similar to that of a young kitten. He also stopped eating, he wouldn't even touch any of his tasty treats. He searched for any bit of sun to stand in, but he was looking so uncomfortable, his posture had changed, half sitting, half standing. I was grateful, when I carried him to his water bowl, that he drank a lot. He also went to the toilet, I held his tail so he didn't make a mess on himself.

We spent the afternoon outside, as the sun started to set. He loved the sun, I wanted him to feel warmth... I held him, talked to him. I don't know now many times I asked him to please hold on, please fight and that I loved him. He looked more comfortable in the sun.

I did film us walking around the pool. I am forever grateful for technology, so that I could just put my phone down, touch a button and record a moment. As we walked and talked, oblivious to the camera, I recognized a change in his breathing... I may have missed it previously, but for sure, his breath was becoming more and more labored. Every 3 or 4 breaths, he just had to try harder... His eyes were changing too... But I was sure he could recognize me, the way the vibrations from my chest reached his body and the way I smell. He would react from time to time, shifting or clawing at me.

He often touched my chest with his paw. Reaching out...

Mum and I went to the vet late Wednesday afternoon, the earliest we could. I explained it must be the change of steroids. No, it wasn't. They were the same type, it was just that he wasn't able to fight anymore. We discussed the specialist, called them and made a plan to go in first thing in the morning. I arranged for a friend to come with me, and Thursday morning bright and early, we were going up to get Mijo cured. Transfusion, drugs, you name it, we were going to do it. We had to, we told him we'd make him better.

There and then, Alex and I decided to trade in our honeymoon, you know from the wedding we had 13 months ago and still haven't done the traditional thing of a week or two away somewhere. We decided the money we had aside for that, would go to Mijo's specialist costs, because without Mijo, our honeymoon, whatever and whenever we decide to do it, wouldn't be worth doing, if he wasn't around.

I made a firm plan on how to help him through the night. We would hold him in shifts... All 3 of us... If one showered, the other held him. Dinner time, we shared the responsibility, not that we ate much anyhow. We cuddled, we talked, we purred, I would blow gently on his head... He was feeling love and he was fighting...

Because he hadn't eaten all day, we decided to try feeding him with a syringe, with success. With the tablets we were putting into his stomach, I felt he needed something else down there too... With a small syringe, he took it well, lapping up a tasty liquid treat.

When it was bed time, we put pillows around the bed, incase he fell, because he was very wobbly on his feet. He would cry out at random times, possibly from pain, but I think more from confusion. He sometimes wanted to get away from us, as we know, pets know when it's time and usually disappear, isolate.

We barely slept. I managed about 3 hours... But it was tough.. He wouldn't stay still, and eventually we put him in his little bed, near our bed... Of course he didn't stay there long.

At 4am I heard him crying... I found him under the bed... Alex woke up too... His breathing had changed a lot... Every breath was labored. He wasn't getting enough oxygen.

I laid on my back, and Mijo laid on my chest. This was how it often was, especially when I was reading... We did that until around 7am... Alex taking turns, holding him, talking to him, loving him. Mijo could barely hold himself up, he just laid in our arms... Breathing... His eyes began to glaze over...

We discussed our options, we felt the specialist was now a long shot. We didn't think he'd make the drive, he was near the end. Our little man had little fight left... And we wouldn't forgive ourselves for him dying in a foreign place. There were a lot of tears and back and forwards, including mum coming in for cuddles with the little guy at 5am...

Alex called the emergency vet, and we planned to go in at 8:30... Mijo's time had come...

When the sun comes up, if the blind is open in our bedroom, the sun shines right on through to Alex in bed, Mijo was in her arms, while she drank coffee as the sun rose.

Sometime later I took the little guy out to the pool, where we walked and talked, cuddled and loved, around and around, in the morning sun. I talked to him about all the adventures we had, riding bikes, visiting people, the beach and the river. I spent most of that hour, holding him, looking to his eyes... He gazed up, I just hope he knew it was me. I just knew he felt the vibrations of my words.

We both told him, it was OK to let go now. We were ready. But he kept on fighting for each breath... I think he was just like his Dad, always hopeful..

He last moments at home, where in the chair I'm sat in now. It gets the best light, first thing, even though it's inside the “catio”. Alex had sat down while I was walking outside, I seem to do better when I walk, and I brought him in for cuddles with her in the sun... He was bathed in sunshine, in Alex's arms... It was beautiful...

Actually getting in the car and going to the vet, was tough, but it really hit me when I walked in. I held the little guy, and just burst into middle-aged-man tears and sobbing... If you were there, you'd know I was my mother's son, cause she was sobbing too... I couldn't look anyone in the eye... I didn't understand what was going on, or about to go on...

I think I was in another place...

We went into a consult room, and I just laid the little guy down, not thinking of using the blanket we had... The vet explained the procedure and took him away for his catheter and first injection, some anesthetic? I don't know, but apparently it was the right thing, it helped with his pain.

I couldn't even look Alex or Mum in the eye... I just cried...

I still had hope...

When they came back, Mijo was wrapped in a soft blanket, what a great idea...!! He was quieter, more peaceful... The vet left to give us a moment...

He was still breathing, still fighting... I put my ear to his face, and heard him...

I kept making sure his eye lids closed from time to time. I remember back when Catalina, my little girl in Germany, needed to be anesthetized for a check up. The vet put some put liquid drops in her eyes and made her blink, so her eyes didn't dry out... So for Mijo, I did that every once in a while... I didn't want his eyes to dry up... I wanted him to be able to see me, because laying on that table, he couldn't hear me.

I begged Alex not to bring the vet back in for the final injection... I think I may have screamed something at her... I don't know... I wasn't me... I was trying to hold him in my arms, without moving him... I was trying to give him another chance...

I bawled...

I don't know if I have ever cried like that before... I thought I'd be all cried out... I thought all my tears had already left the building the previous hours and days... But there was more... a lot more... and more to come...

I know that Alex and I held hands over his body... I felt the love... I felt his warmth... his breathing... I know I cried tears onto him, there were tear drops on his lips...

I looked him in the eye as much as I could, but mostly, I cried...

I felt the liquid go into him, I felt it go around my hand into him...

I don't know much about what happened after that... I know I didn't want to leave him, I had promised him I would never do it. I regret not holding him once more... I know that at that moment, I felt the life drain out of me... I felt hope die...

I walked out, not knowing what to do, and flopped down on the grass outside... I never sit on grass, but Mijo liked it...

I managed to drive home...

That was yesterday...

Since then I've tried to rest, tried to come to grips with what has happened, tried to connect with a few friends, I've tried... I'm still trying...

This morning I got up wanting to do some sport, washing, then study and take on the day with confidence... It's a new day, I should take that opportunity to get back into my routine... It took all of 1 minute, from bed to bathroom, to be bawling... Except for the time I manage to calm down enough to type this blog, I've been crying... It's now 10am... I was awake at 6:15...

We are running out of tissues..

I felt so bad this morning, I wanted to plead with Alex not to go to work, because I just can't today. I just can't. We have discussed how she copes in these situations, and I know that's how she copes, by going to work, so I kept my trap shut. I just want her to hug me all day, so I can feel her warmth.

I cried so much on the drive to drop mum off at work this morning, she started crying too, and contemplated not going to work... She wanted to be there for me, but I told her, honestly, I don't think I'd be much company today.

I don't know the grieving process, we haven't learnt that in counseling school yet, but I do know, I'm feeling very lost... I feel very numb...

I can't explain it, and maybe that's why folks can never really explain how they feel after someone close to them, or their pet, has passed. We are just lost.

I also feel that I am grieving for my other losses in my life. It's a bit like, it's a culmination of all the others before him, plus him on top, making me feel pain like I have never experienced before.

Grief is just love, with no place to go... Alex and I talked about that quote last night. I used this quote to help me through leaving my 4 pets in Germany, I know I have to find a new place for my love, but for now, I just can't.

I know I couldn't have gotten through this without the support of my Mum and Alex...

While Mum cries at the drop of a hat, she is solid and thoughtful and loving. Alex is strong and experienced in these matters. She knew what to say, and when, even if I did yell back… Both have a lot of time and patience for me.

I know Alex and Mum feel bad, maybe even guilty, for choosing him. Mijo was a present, to give me joy and love and comfort. And he sure did, in multitudes, to all of us. I would never have gotten a cat back then, I didn't feel Alex or I were ready, we were still working through our issues with our pets in Germany.

Alex and I decided that we want Mijo home with us. He was only on this earth for 6.5 months, we expected him to be with us for 10+ years. Taken too early. Once he's cremated we'll have him in a little urn. He was so small, but if there's a little left over, we will either plant a tree with his ashes or sprinkle him down by the river, the first place he went to that was close to water.

The past day or so, I have shared what happened with some friends, classmates and family, and everyone has been so thoughtful and caring. Thank you, it's really helped to know you're all out there, thinking of the little guy. He would have loved to meet you all.

He was perfection. If someone else had gotten him, realized he was deaf, they may not have given him the adventures and life he had. Mum considers him a rescue cat...

So here I am, in the chair, his last chair in his last moments at home.

I can still smell him on my shirt. When I walk around the house, dazed, I sniff my shirt. He had a wonderful smell. The smell of love and adventure. I hope that smell lasts a life time.

I miss his warmth, his meow, which was damn loud!! I miss, that sometimes he'd get lost around the house... Or he'd lose me, around the house. He was gentle, and only bit me once, by accident, piercing my thumb a little. I miss the fact he had 1 tooth growing forward, directly out, making him a tri-toothed kitten with a protruding top lip! He took on the world without fear. I've never experienced anything like it in a cat. My girl Catalina did sit on my shoulder as I walked down the street in Germany, but Mijo, he let me go skateboarding with him, played guitar with me (he'd chew the strings) and one time, I even vacuumed his tail.

All trust. No fear.

Back when he lost all his hair around his neck and stomach after his snip operation, we were pretty concerned. Funnily enough, it grew back pretty quickly, but it grew back white, not grey. He had a ring around his neck and kind of marks on his back wrapping around to his belly. Alex googled it, and actually found out, cats can often have their hair grow back white after trauma or experiencing extremes of temperature if their hair was cut short or fell out.

About a month ago, I sent my dearest of friends, Sandra, a photo of his regrowth, and she commented looks like “little angel wings”...

Fly on little wing, fly on...

RIP Mijo Angus

12-11-2020 – 27-05-2021

Thanks for reading,

Josh

#pet #pet love #pet death #sad story #loss #griefandloss

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olliepig · 3 years

Text

Centre Stage - chapter 8

A bit of a change of scene for this chapter - it’s now Virgil’s turn to get a bit of attention and start getting to know Cat.

Massive thanks are due to the wonderful @willow-salix for her betaing prowess, and to @misssquidtracy for listening to me complain about it.

As always, the whole thing is available on AO3 here.

*****************

“Virgil,” Lily called, running up behind him as they crossed through the giant space directly behind the Royal Opera House stage and grabbing his hand to get his attention. “Come and look at this. It’s the set for The Nutcracker.”

“That’s right,” Cat smiled, as Virgil turned, his eyes wide as he took in the massive ornate staircase and walls that towered over them, amazed that he had been so engrossed in conversation with Lily’s mom, Karen, that he had managed to miss spotting them himself. “That’s the Kingdom of the Sweets in Act Two.”

“I knew that already,” Lily informed her earnestly. “We saw it last year and I recognised it from then.”

“Not much gets past you does it?” laughed Cat, her eyes sparkling in amusement as Karen shook her head, suppressing a small laugh at her daughter as she did so.

“No, everyone says I’m very observant,” Lily informed her, confidence oozing out of her now that she had something to focus on, despite having been slightly overawed by the dancer when they had first met at stage door only twenty minutes before. “And look, there’s the Christmas Tree, and the big wheelchair from the battle against the mouse king, and the gingerbread house.”

Allowing her to drag him behind her as she pointed things out, Virgil smiled at how different she was from the little girl who had clung to him, terrified and whimpering for her mum as her home burned around them, a collapsed roof beam blocking their way to safety. He’d never admitted it to anyone but, while they were trapped together waiting for Gordon to arrive, there had been more than a few moments in which he had worried that the outcome might be very different. Trying to distract her as they sat in her bedroom, wet towels blocking the worst of the smoke from entering, he asked about the multitude of ballet posters on the wall and was surprised when she lit up and seemed to enter another world, talking animatedly about her trip to see the Royal Ballet the previous year and how she wanted to be a ballerina when she grew up.

Her passion for it had shone through and that, combined with her bravery in coping with the rescue, made him want to treat her to something special so, as soon as he had been able to, he had contacted Cat to see if there was anything she could do. He had to admit that both she and the company had really gone above and beyond what he had expected, and the fact that Lily had insisted that he accompany her on her special day had made his heart swell.

Her excitement was infectious, and Virgil could feel himself getting caught up in it as he looked around, seeing bits of sets from various different productions all stacked up together, awaiting their next turn on the stage. The space was enormous, much larger than he had imagined it to be based on his previous experiences of being backstage in a theatre during school productions. He’d enjoyed helping to build and paint the sets for those, but the craftsmanship that clearly went into what he saw in front of him made them seem amateur by comparison, the thought making him smile as he realised that, of course, they were.

What looked like a Victorian street scene stood off to one side, attracting his attention and, as Cat talked through The Nutcracker sets with her other guests, he wandered over to take a closer look. Scrawled writing on the back of one of the pieces told him that it was from Act Two of the opera La Boheme, and he lightly ran his fingers over the paint, marvelling at the level of detail that was there, especially as it would never even be visible from the auditorium.

The sight reminded him vividly of an argument he’d had with his art teacher about just that, where he had wanted to make everything as realistic as possible but was told not to bother because it wouldn't be seen anyway. Despite the fact that nearly fifteen years had passed since then, part of him dearly wanted to take pictures and get back in touch to show that he had been right all along, but somehow it didn’t really seem worth it. He was vindicated and ultimately, that was all that mattered.

He could feel the buzz of creativity throughout the whole building as he stood there, dancers making their way past him in costume on their way to the stage for the matinee performance that was already underway. He longed to sit quietly, soaking it all in but as Lily bounced over to him and took his hand, once again dragging him behind her as they made their way up to the rehearsal studios, he was shaken out of his reverie and reminded why he was there in the first place.

Maybe if he spoke to Cat nicely, he thought, she’d let him come back himself another time and truly get to explore and experience all that the theatre had to offer.

-x-

Settling down on seats at the front of the light, airy studio as the dancers conferred with their coach before beginning the rehearsal, Virgil could feel the excitement continuing to radiate off Lily in waves. She was fidgeting in her seat and had been told more than once to sit still but neither he nor Karen were certain that she’d be able to manage it.

Cat, her dance partner, Mark, and the man who had been introduced as their coach, Alexander, moved around the space, marking out what Vigil assumed were bits of choreography. Words of their discussion floated over to him but much of it seemed to be both technical and in French so he quickly gave up trying to make sense of it and sat back to take in the experience instead.

Despite his interest in the rest of the scene before him, his eyes were repeatedly drawn to Cat as she worked, her serious demeanour in contrast to the fun, playful girl that he’d seen when she was on the island. He had no idea why, but now that she was changed into her leotard, tutu and pointe shoes, it had given him a totally different perspective on her, as if his brain had previously not quite put two and two together and realised that she was actually at her place of work and would naturally be dressed accordingly.

It was a regret of his that circumstances had meant he’d not managed to spend more time with her when he had the chance, especially given the apparent seriousness of her developing relationship with his brother. Being allowed to meet one of Scott’s partners was a new experience for all of the family, and getting to spend time with them one to one would have been unthinkable up until now, so this was completely new territory for him. His protective streak for his older brother was well known but Scott’s uncharacteristic openness about her and the way he lit up whenever her name was mentioned made him think that she was perhaps someone who would be around for the long haul and that he should make the most of this opportunity to start getting to know her better.

Movement beside him as Alexander sat down brought him out of his reverie and he looked up just in time to catch Cat flashing him a smile as she and Mark took their places for the start of the Grand Pas de Deux. As the music started, he watched in amazement as she transformed from the woman that he knew into a regal fairy, dancing with her prince. On the stage, he could imagine how effortless it would look but in the confines of the studio, there was no question over the amount of sheer grit and determination it took to get through. The slow movement was followed immediately by two solos and then a coda, and by the time it was over, he could see both dancers dripping with sweat and breathing heavily as they took the applause of their small audience. The fact that they were still on their feet made Virgil fairly certain that both dancers were superhuman. However, the panting heap on the floor that followed their bows suggested that they were, in fact, just like everyone else.

“Very good,” called Alexander as they struggled back onto their feet at the sound of their coaches' voice, catching their breath in preparation for whatever would come next. “Take a moment and we’ll go through a few corrections.”

Virgil smiled at Lily, getting as much enjoyment out of watching her, as she looked on in rapt attention as correction after correction was given out, changing the inflection of a gesture here and the tiniest hint of a movement there. It was painstaking work and, as each adjustment was given and worked through by Cat and Mark, he became more and more aware of how much of a perfectionist Cat must be. He had to admit, she even put Scott to shame.

“Right, we’re not going to run it again so I think it’s time for our newest Sugar Plum to show us what she can do,” Alexander turned to Lily who jumped up straight away, so desperate to join in that she had already put her ballet shoes on in preparation.

“I’ve been practising the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy,” she told him excitedly, speaking so quickly that it was hard to keep up.

“How wonderful,” Cat jumped in with a smile. “If you’re willing to show us, I’d love to see it. It’s a really difficult solo and I always love seeing how other dancers interpret it.”

Lily beamed and quickly nodded her assent, pride radiating out of her at the suggestion that her dancing was on a par with the two experienced professionals, as she ran up to the back of the studio to take her place.

“Are you ready?” Cat asked, smiling at the enthusiasm and confidence in the young dancer, knowing that she’d have absolutely gone to pieces if given the same opportunity when she was that young.

With a nod of confirmation from Lily, the music started, familiar strains of Tchaikovsky filling the studio. With no hesitation, the young dancer moved through the dance, her natural ability shining through. The fact that she kept to a comparatively small area in the studio told Cat that she had likely taught herself the dance in her own home rather than working on it with a teacher in a larger space.

A smile passed across Cat’s face as she watched her, reminded of all the times that she had studied recordings again and again, learning the dances by herself and dreaming of the day that she would get to perform on the stage instead of in her bedroom. Sitting forward to watch her critically, Lily’s lack of formal training was clear but, given her age and obvious talent, she knew that there was absolutely no impediment to the girl having a successful career if the right opportunities were made available to her.

“That was fantastic,” Cat declared as Lily’s applause died down. “You really danced that beautifully.”

“I agree,” Virgil concurred. “I think it’s a tough call to decide who did it better but I think Lily might have just nudged it. Sorry Cat.”

“I’d agree with that,” Mark chipped in. “It was a close call but I think Lily had a softness to her that you don’t have yet Cat.”

“Well, I guess I’ll just need to work on it a bit more then, won’t I?” smiled Cat, thoroughly enjoying the confidence that was shining out of the girl. “Now, how about we teach you the start of the adagio and you can dance it with Mark?”

“Really?” Lily cried, her eyes lighting up.

“Really. I’d be honoured to be the prince to such a beautiful Sugar Plum Fairy,” Mark said, stepping forward with a bow, making Lily giggle.

“But if I dance with him, who’s going to dance with you?” Lily asked, turning to Cat, her forehead creased in worry.

“Nobody, but that’s OK. I don’t mind,” Cat replied with a smile.

“I think you should dance with Virgil. He could be a prince for you,” Lily continued, fixing Virgil with a pleading look that he knew he was powerless to refuse.

“I’m not sure Virgil really wants to be a prince,” Cat replied gently, looking over questioningly at him, surprised to find that he was already taking his shoes off in preparation.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” he replied with a shrug, a grin creeping over his face. “Today is all about Lily, so if the young lady wants me to dance, then I shall dance.”

“OK then,” Cat laughed, turning back to Lily and ushering her into the centre of the studio where Mark was waiting for her. “Well then, Lily, it looks like you’ve found me a new prince so you don’t need to worry about me.”

Cat held out her hand to Virgil, tugging him into the centre of the studio and helping him to organise himself into the closest approximation he could manage of the starting position that Mark was already demonstrating.

“So, the first four counts of four are really just the preparation, so take that time to walk around in a small circle, stepping up into fifth position on demi pointe in the final one as Mark bows to you,” Cat began, directing Lily around the space. “Then you want to take a step towards him, back up into fifth position croise, holding his hand for support and then use that front leg for a developpe devant. Good, just like that. Now, bring that working leg back through retire and into attitude derrière. While you’re doing that, Mark is going to spin you around slowly OK?”

Cat demonstrated the sequence to Lily, using Virgil as her partner, effortlessly maneuvering him into place with a gentle, but firm, guiding hand and verbally running through the steps once again, more for Virgil's benefit than Lily's, then returning to assist her and Mark.

Lily nodded, hanging on every word as the two dancers fussed around her, correcting her position and making sure she was comfortable.

“Once you get there, put your hand on his shoulder, and use that for balance if you need it while he lets go of your other hand so you can untangle it after the turn,” Cat continued, watching with critical eyes as Lily tentatively reached up and placed her hand on Mark’s shoulder, looking back over to Cat for confirmation once she had done so. “That’s perfect. Now he’s going to promenade you around so just hang on and try to keep your balance while you hold that position. Let him do the work.”

“Do you understand a word they’re saying?” Virgil asked quietly, shuffling closer to Lily’s mum, Karen so he wasn’t overheard.

“Not a single thing,” she smiled, glad that she wasn’t alone in being baffled.

“I hope you’re paying attention, Virgil,” Cat called over, somehow having developed eyes on the back of her head. “It’s going to be your turn next.”

Virgil jumped guiltily but grinned as he returned to his designated position with a cheeky, "Yes, ma'am."

***

“So, what made you want to do this for a living?” Virgil asked, gesturing to the studio as Cat pulled on a tracksuit over her rehearsal clothes, their time in the studios having come to an end.

Lily and Karen had been whisked off for a tour of the theatre now that the matinee had finished, after which they were being treated to a meal and tickets to the evening performance of Coppelia. Mark had already left for another rehearsal, leaving just the two of them until Scott and Selene arrived for dinner later.

“It was my grandma,” Cat told him with a small smile, standing and shouldering her bag. “She brought me to see Swan Lake here when I was six and from then on I couldn’t imagine not being a part of this world.”

“Aww that’s lovely,” Virgil grinned, remembering all the things he'd done with his own. “Grandma’s are the best.”

“They sure are,” Cat nodded, holding open the studio door and ushering Virgil out into the corridor, making their way down to her dressing room. “I couldn’t stop talking about ballet afterwards so she started sneaking me to classes. My mum didn’t approve and thought it was a waste of time but if Grandma paid then she was happy to go along with it.”

“I’ll never understand why people think the arts are a waste of time,” Virgil commented, remembering well how he felt his love of painting had been treated at times.

“Me neither,” Cat agreed. “They can give kids so much freedom of expression and a confidence that they don’t get anywhere else and it really annoys me when art and theatre get dismissed.”

“I can relate to that,” he nodded. “So, did you go to classes all the way through school then? I don’t really know how it all works I’m afraid.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Cat reassured him, suppressing a grin at the appreciative glances that were being thrown an oblivious Virgil’s way as they dodged around a group of dancers heading back from the stage. “My dance teacher suggested I audition to become a Junior Associate of the Royal Ballet School when I was eight and when I got in, Grandma snuck me up to London for my class every Saturday morning, bless her. Then, when I got into the school at eleven, she took on my mum and stepdad and convinced them to let me go.”

“Were they not keen on the idea?” Virgil asked, knowing that Cat didn’t speak to any of her family and wondering if that might have had something to do with it.

“You could say that,” Cat laughed, opening the door to her dressing room and ushering Virgil inside. “They hated the idea of fee-paying schools and thought that full time training at that age was a waste of time. After a lot of arguing, they told me that if I took the place, I wouldn’t be part of the family any more and that they’d do what they legally had to until I was sixteen but then I’d have to figure it out for myself. Grandma reassured me I’d always have a place with her so I went, but she passed away when I was halfway through my first year and I was pretty much on my own after that.” “That’s terrible,” Virgil gasped, wondering how anyone could be so callous to their own child.

“Yeah, it wasn’t ideal,” Cat agreed with a shrug as she dropped her bag on the floor and took her seat at her mirror, gesturing to Virgil to take his pick of the other seats scattered around the room as she did so. “Luckily, Penny had taken me under her wing by then so I was OK in the end, but it wasn’t great.”

“Do you have any contact with them at all any more?” Virgil asked, intrigued enough to ask despite his uncertainty about whether he was treading a little too close to the edge of what was acceptable or not. From what he’d seen so far, she seemed very open and willing to answer anything, but he knew only too well that appearances could be deceptive.

“My mum occasionally comes crawling out of the woodwork when she wants something,” Cat shrugged, pulling pins out of her hair and shaking it out so it tumbled around her shoulders. “I’ve not spoken to my stepdad since I was sixteen, thank God, and my real dad walked out when I was five. I don’t even know if he’s still alive or not, so he’s not in the picture either. I don’t have any brothers or sisters that I know about either, so I’ve probably got the easiest family history to trace ever.”

“It’s quite the difference from our family,” Virgil mused. “Obviously we lost our mom when we were all quite young, but at least we had Dad on our side until we were mostly grown. It was tough after his accident though, and Scott had to take on a lot.”

“Yeah, I can’t even imagine how hard that must have been for all of you,” Cat sympathised. “I think it was probably easier for me because I always knew that it was coming so I was able to prepare myself for it.”

“Well that’s one way of looking at it,” Virgil laughed, amazed at the relentless positivity that Cat seemed to exude about what must be the darkest moments of her history. “Changing the subject slightly, can I ask you something?

“Ask away,” Cat invited, taming her hair into a long plait as she watched him in the mirror, wondering what was coming her way next.

“Does it cost a lot to become a dancer?” he asked tentatively, knowing that finance was not always something that people were comfortable talking about. “It’s just that, when we were waiting for Gordon to dig us out, Lily told me that she wants to be a ballerina but her mum had said it was too expensive for her to go to a proper ballet school. I wasn’t sure what she meant at the time but I assume she was talking about one of the full-time ones?”

Cat sighed, knowing only too well that funding was a massive issue for the arts in general but ballet was a profession that needed specialist training from a young age that not everyone could afford.

“Unfortunately, depending on her circumstances, she may be right,” she agreed reluctantly. “Local ballet schools are fine for the first bit of training and for dancing for fun, but for most kids, if they want to be a professional, then they need to go to one of the big residential schools and they can cost a fortune. I was lucky enough to get a scholarship but there aren’t many of them to go around so a lot of talented kids never even get the chance.” “That’s such a shame,” Virgil sighed, his brain immediately kicking into gear to think up ways that he could help.

“Yeah, it’s something that’s bothered me for years,” Cat agreed, happy to find someone to talk to about a subject close to her heart. “I wouldn’t be sitting here if I hadn’t had the financial help, but the reality is that someone else probably lost their chance at being a dancer because it was given to me instead. I’ll never know who it was and whether they made it in the end, but I’ve always felt a bit guilty about it and it pushes me to be the best I can to prove to the people that made the decision to give it to me that they made the right choice.”

“Well, I don’t think anyone can say you’ve not made the most of it,” Virgil laughed, taking in the multiple production posters hanging on the walls, many featuring pictures of Cat, staring back at him.

“I hope not anyway,” Cat smiled, unable to hide the hint of pride in her tone. “It just seems a shame to me that training can’t be on merit alone. I know it costs a lot and that the schools need to make money to survive, but it’s not right that so many are excluded just because it’s beyond their families' means.”

“I’d agree with that,” Virgil nodded. “Is there not much help available from the government?”

“Not in this country anyway,” Cat shook her head sadly. “Places like Russia are different, but here there’s a definite lack of funding for the arts in general, not just ballet training, and I guess it’s not a very glamorous investment for private firms. For every Darcey Bussell or Margot Fonteyn, there are plenty who never make it through so it’s not something that’s going to give a guaranteed return.”

“Yeah, I can see why a lot of companies might not go for that,” Virgil mused, a germ of an idea starting to form in his head.

“Plus, having a scholarship puts a lot of pressure on kids,” Cat added as she watched Virgil closely, curious as to what he was thinking, having seen the same look on his brother when he was planning something. “It’s something I thrived on but not everyone does. But it’s a real shame for Lily if she’s not going to be able to pursue it. From what I’ve seen today, she’s got real talent and a good eye for detail, that’s almost as important.”

Before Virgil could reply, a loud chime from Cat’s phone interrupted them, announcing the arrival of Scott and Selene at the stage door. Hurrying out of the room to meet them, Virgil’s mind continued to turn over the information he’d been given, a more concrete plan beginning to coalesce.

#Virgil Tracy #Catriona George #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015

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yume-tsuki · 3 years

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Bleach Recuerdos Mundo part 5 The Orb

Day Zero It wasn’t the first time I saw the black orb like thing floating around. But It happened that It vanished for some years. Today after school then, first, I thought someone called out my name and when I felt this spiritual pressure I saw the flouting orb again. Why it happened on the parks playground I don’t know. At last it was near my home and I used to come here often in the past. Of course I was curious, to curious, if you would ask my friend Hiyo, he is the same age as me a few months younger but not much. He is the son of Captain Hirako and Hiyouri. We are on the same school in this world. We both are Shinigami in training, but less at the academy , we get training at Kisuke’s place or at some of the Gotei 13. Hiyoshin, that’s his full name, is a talented Kido user and gets much training by his fathers lieutenant Hinamori Momo. He often says one day he will be as good as she is. He isn’t able to build a Shikai jet, it drives him mad what makes me laugh a lot. He is mostly so stiff. for my sake I’m training with my father or his friends, I’m a good sword fighter but not as good as my childhood friend Ichika. I also was able to form a Shikai lately, but not for long. I’m good at healing but not as good as mum. I love to listen to mothers tales of dad and the others, even when it sounds like a fairytale a lot. But at some point I’m jealous why can’t I have such an incredible story? The last of us three is Ichika, the daughter of Rukia and Renji Abarai. She is the most talented swords fighter I knew. She also mastered her Shikai. The most time she spends at the Soul Society but then she comes over living here like she lives always lived here. However this works… Sometimes when Hiyo is such a good Kido master and Ichika is such an fine swords master what will I become? Let’s finish this chattering, you know what happened after I touched the orb… …but what happened to us?... Not long after our Spiritual Pressure was gone our Parents were alarmed and tried to find us but the only thing what was left was our soulless bodys laying on the playground. To protect us from harm they used Kisuke Urahara’s Mod Souls so it wouldn’t to strange for our class mates when we are lost. Days and Days went over but we three were not to be found, not here, not at the Soul Society and also not at Hueco Mundo. They had countless of sleepless nights full of fear and tears... I feel sorry for them... No one knew we went to a place of rotten Memories. Called Recuerdos Mundo the Anderswelt More than a month had passed since we ended up here, but what is this world now? The time to see the truth is now to come! -Kurosaki Kazui

part1 Recuerdos Mundo Day ??.??.???? So much days had past since we arrived in this ‘other world’. We thought about a name and after realising what it was and a lot of talks we decidet to call it Recuerdos Mundo, the world of Memories. A world full of Reiryoku, it’s mostly made of it. We still don’t know why but, the ground, the trees even the air is filled up with it. The Hollow like creatures consume it, sadly we can’t use our powers becouse they would swollow it right away. Ichika got the idea to collect the light of Reiryoku who floats through the sky. She noticed that they stuck often on branches of this death looking stone like trees , even we can consume them in this place and this is a nice way to eat or trick the creatures. First when she tried her Zanbakuto this giant bird, together with other creatures appeared. But instead of the others who wanted to eat us it protected us and now travels with us. It’s still fascinating that we can see our world through the camera of our mobile phones. It was such a surprise what Kazui made when we tried to call for help. Sadly we still havn’t found a clue to contact one of our parents. They must be full of sorrows about us, when they can’t even feel we are on earth... But the most fascinating thing and the true reason we called it Recuerdos Mundo was when we found buildings with things in it. When we send out some little energy pictues of the past appeared and showed us who this thing belonged to and themselfs story...Maybe we can find a way out of this world when we find the right item! Now it’s time to end for today, we rest at a old hotel, next day we saw a white shimmering reflection on the horizont, well this our next goal.

jornal end -Hiyoshin Hirako

Recuerdos Mundo The Salt lake After a full day walk we arrived on the edge of an Salt lake, behind it we could see trees and hoping to find more informations about this world. But for today we rested on the edge, Hiyoshin build himself a flute made of an antler he found. Somehow it was creepy but his music is great. It always calms me down when I’m listening to him. Also our spirit hollow bird seems to enjoy his music. We noticed that the Spirit Hollows mostly change into an easy ball form . Only to fight they change into a form who needs more energy. The best part is still that we don’t need food in this world! We just catch this flying energy orbs and swallow them. So more time to listen to the music. But we weren’t the only one making music on the salt lake. There was this strange surring noise like when you stamp on this special white beach sand of this Japanese city we went with our parents ones. It sounded like music and something in me wanted to find out who is making this music! Kazui and Hiyo where pretty worried and said I shouldn’t go…. Scaredy cats! Now I woke birdy up and we flew through the night sky. The night is so clear on this place, so much stars we never saw back in the city. There wasn’t a single soul out there till we saw a long track and followed it. Also the sound came nearer and we saw a long red thing. Birdy hated it but we landed, he hissed the whole way to the head of that giant snake, what it was. When it turns it’s purple head I saw this crazy eyes and wondered if fathers Zabimaru would have such strange eyes if it wasn’t a bone snake. Somehow she was so calm and there wasn’t single moment I was afraid she could eat me. Then we finally traveled back on the head of the snake, oh man you should have seen this boys worried faces. They argue the whole snaky ride to the jungle with me about disappearing in the middle of the night in a strange world where whatever could have happened. I just laughed, not even my parents try to lecture me only uncle B. tries it sometimes but gave up on me. Both stubborn souls created an even more stubborn soul. He says and turns away. Now then that’s enough jornal for now -Abbarai Ichika

Recuerdos mundo part 3 Day 33 I guess We crossed the desert and thought we arrived at a jungle but it wasn’t just a jungle and it wasn’t just on a giant turtle like thing. We were standing o a rock when Ichika noticed a building on it’s back nnd for the first time we saw that it wasn’t just the human world who collapsed , infront of us where the whole Seireitei on the back of that damn turtle! We decided to jump on it and searching through it. The most parts were destroyed and everywhere trees , flowers and spirits. Soon I lost track of the others, they were so quick and there was something else what came to my mind. A voice calling for me… yes, it sounds strange but it was for me not for Ichika, not for Hiyoshin. Just me! I followed it till I arrived at a place I havn’t seen before. Maybe because the time I was at the soul society with dad wasn’t that often and only at aunty Rukia’s place. Dark walls changed into white or what was white one day. “It looks like a research lab!” I heared the voice of Hiyo . What scared me to death. Somehow it made me damn angry that they found me this fast. At last we entered a room, I was still hearing that voice >Come to me! I waited for you so long my young friend!< Yes, I know it could be dangerous but I was so curious… Then we saw it a bright flower floated in the sky, on it’s roots was a strange seat surrounded by light. >Finally you are here!< the voice came from that blooming thing but Hiyoshin and Ichika weren’t hearing it. “I wonder what this is?” Hyio was curious too but his attention soon was on the rest of the room. Screens on the walls and a lot of buttons at a panel. Ichika’s attention was the less, I wonder what she was thinking right now? She just looks around and seems like she already wanted to leave this place. Suddenly one of the screens start to work, but it wasn’t much to see just to listen… >>…What happened….<<…>>…what is that?....<<>>..the other world?...no wait it’s H……<< …>>they collapsing..<<…>Help!!<< ..Only a few pictures were to see, first the Seireitei , then in the sky a city suddenly white snow or sand. We were scared,yes, it still could happen, it could happen right now. “We have to find a way back, telling father and the others of this. Maybe we can stop it before it happens.” Hiyoshin said. “Maybe you two find something else in the other rooms!” I said, I wanted them to go so badly. Why?.... I wondered why does I wanted to be alone with this voice so desperately? … Then I was alone. >>Kazui I waited for so long<< “How can you know my name?” >> I know you since the moment I looked at your fathers eyes.<< “You know my father? Are you a Shinigami?” >> No<< “Who are you then?” >>Sadly I forgot my name << “I see. But you know mine. Why?” >>I’m here to give you something<< “Really?” >>Yes!<< >>Do you want it?<< “Y-yes.” I was so excited that I totally forgot that this situation could be dangerous… man I was only 12 how should I ever had known what could have happen? >>Then eat me!<< Does I was hypnoticed? Maybe… does I wanted to gain power? Maybe… I only I knew I did it… When the flower was gone I was still feeling normal but the others wondered where I went and came back. Of course they wondered where the flower went but I said I touched it and it became dust….they believed me and told me about the stuff they found...

Recuerdos Mundo part 4 Day??.??.????? I thought I would never ever meet another soul again in this death world. Since the day I arrived here day after day past and it wasn’t important where I was or when. There was no one to be found till this day. Who ever made me come here to this place where I always have to cry and I wished to leave when I just think about visiting. Here I found this three. When I showed myself first they were surprised but not for long. They brought me to their place made a fire and told me who they are. I never thought that Ichi or Ruki would ever have a child. I was so surprised that it caused me to tears. Of course they asked who I was and so I told them a little I could remember. I remembered that I was always on Kenpachi Zaraki’s side and I remembered that I was the 11th Division Lieutenant. I remember a fight against an opponent who was even hard von Ken-chan but I barely remember the persons face even how I ended up here. I just remember the strong feelings I had that day. To protect the person I deeply loved to be with. Then one day I woke up, covered in injuries, it was somewhere in this world. Somehow I healed, later I know that it was this air filled up with spiritual energy. I started wandering around, finding ruins and this soul-hollow spirits. Days became months and years and on one point I ended up to believe to see one human being ones more. I even lost the interest in the secrets of this world covered in ruins. The only thing what I knew was that my world, the world of the living and Hueco Mundo collapsed in the past for some reason. At least it was a calm time, there was no war, no fight anymore, just souls without a soul… The children were surprised and couldn’t believe that I lived here alone for so long. Then of course I asked the one question. Do you know a way back home? Sadly they didn’t but they remembered that Kasui used a black hole to came here in the first place. I asked him if he could do it again. He said he tried but he didn’t know how to activate it, then he stopped for a moment. It was like someone talked to him and then he told that he maybe know how to return. For a single moment I was scared to hell, there was a feeling I hadn’t in years, like a long lost memory but then he opened a black hole and everything I had in mind was vanished. There was only one desire: Maybe I can go home now finally.

-???????

Then Ichika asked me something they totally forgot to ask. What’s your name? I looked at her face, puzzled from that question.

My name?... what was my name? I can’t remember…

They then told me something, something about Ken-chan who she likes to visit from time to time. He isn’t very talkative but one day he told her a name Yachiru… Yachiru? Wasn’t this my name? It sounds so unfamiliar familiar…. But the tears that run over my cheeks told me it was true.

How could I even forgot who I was? When did it start that I even lost my name?

What a cruel peaceful world this could be.

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minuteminx · 3 years

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Revolutionary

Pairing: Preston Garvey/ Female Sole Survivor

Summary: In the aftermath of personal tragedies, Preston and Charlie both seek to make a difference in the Commonwealth and those around them. They could never anticipate the impact that they will have on eachother in the process.

Chapter Five: Old Appalachia

Chapter Summary: Charlie's not sure she's cut out for the Commonwealth, but fate thinks otherwise.

[First Chapter]

[Previous Chapter]

[AO3 Link]

“By being natural and sincere, one often can create revolutions without having sought them.” ― Christian Dior

Outskirts of Concord, December 2287

Charlie had always been somewhat of an idealist. She had to be, growing up in bumfuck Appalachia in a family just high enough above the poverty line that the government wasn’t legally required to offer financial assistance. Her dad was an overworked, underpaid line worker in some automotive factory, and despite never once stepping foot in a coal mine, he carried his ancestors’ resentment toward anything and everything “nucular,” as he called it. He’d always pop off with these wild conspiracy theories about atom bombs and the end of times. It seemed laughably prophetic now.

Her mom had stayed at home, reading books to her and her little brother, and promising them they could change the world if they wanted to. It was those words that kept Charlie going, pushed her towards that Ph.D. that had seemed so monumental back then, so important. Now, as she stomped around an irradiated wasteland, caked in blood and aching from head to toe, she realized how fruitless it had all been. All those years training to help other people only to spend over two centuries in cryostasis and wake up unable to even help herself.

Thank God for Preston. She didn’t know what would have happened to her if she hadn’t almost died trying to help him at Concord. She really had no business in a suit of power armor or holding a minigun and fighting a fifteen-foot tall lizard. Even nearly two months later, she couldn’t come up with a single logical reason why she volunteered so readily. Was she now going to throw her life away just because a friendly face asked her to? She laughed at herself. Probably.

Charlie found herself doing a lot of things simply because Preston asked her to. Grueling, difficult tasks like “eating enough,” “staying hydrated,” and “getting a good night’s sleep.” He drove a hard bargain, that Garvey. What did he take her for anyway? Someone stable?

In the past month, he’d been taking time away from the laundry list of other things he had on his plate, just to teach her some excruciatingly basic Commonwealth survival skills. She’d learned the names of all the things that could possibly kill her: Raiders, Gunners, zombie-like creatures called feral ghouls, supermutants, various types of wildlife threats, and radiation. Everything was irradiated, from the food to the water to the thunderstorms . At this rate, she just figured she was either going to die or grow an extra ear on her forehead. It was a tossup.

She’d also asked Preston to help her learn to protect herself. She didn’t like the idea of guns or violence or any of it, but it was foolish to walk through Hell defenseless. He tried so hard to teach her to shoot one of those god awful laser muskets, but it took too long to ready a shot that she was inevitably going to miss anyway. He had eventually given up on trying, and instead placed a 10mm in her hand. It was nicer than the one she’d used in Concord, with glow sights and an extended mag. Apparently Sturges had fixed it up for her. She was beginning to believe there was nothing that man couldn’t do with a roll of duct tape and half an hour.

“MS. CHARLOTTE!”

Charlie jumped as Codsworth abruptly hovered in front of her face. She’d almost forgotten the Mr. Handy unit had accompanied her on an assignment for Preston, out in Lexington. Once she’d shown some proficiency with a weapon, he thought it would be good practice for her to take out a “small” band of Raiders who were troubling a nearby settlement. It was not small, and while she dealt with the issue and convinced the Tenpines settlers to throw their lot in with the Minutemen, Codsworth knew she’d not gotten out of the ordeal unscathed.

“What, Codsworth,” she asked, more annoyed than he deserved.

“Mum! Oh thank goodness you responded,” the robot exclaimed giddily floating about in front of her, “You have been staring off into nothing for the past hour of our journey despite my efforts to entertain you with conversation.”

She had not noticed him speaking once, well, at least not since he’d mentioned Nate and Shaun when they’d passed by the rusty remains of a playground. Maybe she’d tuned him out after that. “Sorry Codsworth. I have a lot on my mind.”

“Are you aware that you are bleeding?”

“What?” Charlie glanced down to the large tear in her vault suit, and the blood pouring from a bullet wound in her thigh. She hadn’t even felt it since she used one of those stimpak syringes. She’d almost forgotten she had it. “ Shit. ”

“Such language, mum! Hardly befitting of a lady of your stature.”

“Find me a lady of any stature who doesn’t curse when she’s been shot in the leg,” Charlie quipped, grunting as she sat down to redress the wound, “Do you still have that gauze you picked up at the plant?”

“Yes, of course,” came his quick reply as he produced a bundle of cleanish gauze in one of his metal arms, and handed it to her.

“Thanks,” Charlie said, taking the cloth from him and beginning to work, wrapping it tightly around her leg. She just needed something to stop the bleeding until they made it back to Sanctuary. They weren’t too far now, maybe a mile or so from the bridge.

Once she found her amateur wound dressing to be suitable, Charlie continued on back to the settlement, Codsworth prattling on endlessly about the bliss of pre-war life. She understood where he was coming from. That didn’t mean she wanted to hear it.

She stopped suddenly in her tracks when she spotted movement ahead of them, off to the side of the dirt road. It looked like a man in raider leathers, digging for something.

“What is it, Ms. Charlotte,” Codsworth asked loudly and without an ounce of tact.

Charlie shushed him, but it was too late, the man had already heard them, rising to his feet and moving his hand to draw his weapon. She didn’t let him have the chance, firing several rounds into his chest before he could. She hated that she was getting good at that.

She approached the body, prone and lifeless, and knelt down, beginning to rifle through his pockets for anything useful: ammo, stimpaks, caps . Yes, caps . If anyone had told her that in the future the formal currency would be Nuka Cola bottle caps, she wouldn’t have tossed so many of them in the recycling bin.

It wasn’t until she looked up that she noticed that there was another body, a young woman lying in a shallow grave also donning the signature raider attire. Her arms were crossed ceremoniously across her chest, hubflowers scattered across and around her body. Charlie looked down at the man she’d just killed and remembered that he had been digging.

She felt sick. In her mind, she conjured an entire tragic scene in which a poor, mourning raider had simply been trying to bury a loved one and was startled by the obnoxious shouting British robot. When he reached for his gun, just a reflex, he’d been shot in the chest by some cagey redhead with an itchy trigger finger. If she’d only paid more attention, she might have noticed sooner and she and Codsworth could have taken a wider arc around the man. He wouldn’t have had to die.

Pocketing her looted items, she holstered her gun and bent down to pick up the shovel, starting first by filling in the grave of the lady raider. It was the least she could do.

“Pardon me, Ms. Charlotte,” Codsworth asked, attempting to be gentle, “What are you doing?”

She sniffed her nose, fighting back the tears she wanted to cry, and pointed the shovel at the woman. “He was just trying to bury her.”

Charlie swore she could hear the gears in Codsworth’s massive metal head clicking and smoking as he tried to make sense of her behavior. After a moment, he spoke. “Need I remind you that these scoundrels would have murdered us on sight?”

She shook her head and stuck the shovel into the dirt. “Doesn’t matter.”

As she worked, her memory was flooded with painful, frozen flashes from the vault. Images of the callous man who killed Nate and stole her baby, of Nate’s stiff, frozen body that still lay in the cryochamber, perfectly preserved with the exception of the fatal gunshot wound in his chest. Charlie had opened the chamber, hoping she could save him, or at the very least say goodbye, but he was already gone. She’d slipped the wedding ring from his finger and left him there, entombed along with the rest of her neighbors who unwittingly signed themselves up for a sick science project. When Preston learned what had happened in 111, he offered to help her lay everyone to rest properly, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She couldn’t stomach the idea of walking back into that frozen hell.

She could, however, offer some absolution to this Raider.

“I’m going to bury him next to her,” she announced, looking at Codsworth before moving over several feet and beginning to dig a new plot.

The robot protested with an exasperated huff. “I applaud your sentimentality, mum, but it is getting quite late. At this rate it will be completely dark before we return to Sanctuary Hills.

“If you want to go on ahead, you can,” Charlie said with a dismissive wave up the road, “Tell Preston I’ll be along shortly.” “Perish the thought,” Codsworth retorted, properly offended. “I will not abandon you to the wasteland at night. Just… do please hurry.”

Charlie worked as fast as she could, but her body was weary from her days of journeying and fighting, so digging and filling in the grave had taken longer than it should have. When she finally finished, the clock on her PipBoy read “23:00,” and the sky was completely dark, well except for the stars. They, at least, had survived the apocalypse.

It was after midnight before Charlie hobbled across the bridge and into Sanctuary Hills, Codsworth zooming past her, a cacophony of buzzing and whirring and shouting for Preston. At this rate he was going to wake up the entire settlement. She managed to make it over to the home where Sturges had set up his workshop, and flopped herself down on the concrete with a grunt. The effects of the stimpak had worn off, and with the bullet still lodged firmly in her leg, it hadn’t healed entirely and it throbbed like a bitch.

There was a hurried rustle of footsteps, accompanied by Codsworth’s voice complaining about how she’d “foolishly buried some raiders against all good judgement.” If anyone needed a chill pill, it was that robot.

“Thank you for taking care of her, Codsworth,” Preston said, a gentle laugh falling off the ends of his words, “I’ll handle it from here.”

“You’re most welcome, Mr. Garvey. I apologize for my mistress’ recklessness.” His words were pointed and Charlie couldn’t believe she was being tattled on by her own Mr. Handy. He zoomed off to busy himself with the fruitless task of trying to restore their old home.

Preston shook his head, and continued to laugh as he approached Charlie, “Man, that machine is something else.”

“No joke,” came Charlie’s weak reply, as she attempted to adjust herself to sit more comfortably.

“Whoa,” Preston exclaimed and rushed to her side. “You okay?

He hadn’t noticed the wound, and for whatever reason Charlie didn’t want him to. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

He frowned, warm brown eyes flicking down to the blood seeping through the gauze on her leg, and then looked back up at her. He smiled, but she could tell he was worried. “That’s funny, ‘cause you don’t look too fine.”

“I beg your pardon,” she bantered. Deflection. She couldn’t stand the way his concerned expression made her feel. “I know I’m not a supermodel or anything but--”

“Charlie.”

She faltered under his gaze, tears immediately bubbling up in her eyes. She took a deep breath and fought them back before speaking. “There were more Raiders than we thought. Codsworth and I got overwhelmed and I got shot in the leg, but I’m fine. People get shot around here all the time, right?”

“We try to avoid getting shot,” he remarked, his exasperation not quite as shrill as Codsworth’s, “How many raiders were there?”

“Fifteen, maybe twenty.”

“Jesus.” He rose to his feet and walked over to the metal cabinets just past one of the workbenches. He knelt and opened one of the doors, reaching far back inside. He emerged with a full fifth of Old Appalachia and a medical kit that was, like everything else in the world, held together by duct tape. He returned to his previous position at Charlie’ side and sat down making an almost concerted effort to make eye contact. “You know I wouldn’t have sent you out by yourself if I’d--”

“This isn’t your fault, Preston.” She lay a hand on his arm, and offered him a smile. “If anything it’s mine for rolling in the front entrance, guns blazing.”

He laughed. “Man, you’ve got to be more careful.”

“No promises.” Charlie lifted her hand from his arm and pointed to the bottle of whiskey. “What’s that for?”

“You,” Preston answered, picking it up and handing it to her, “We have to get this bullet out of you before it gets infected, and you’re going to want something to dull the pain. So, start drinking.”

“Say no more.” Popping open the bottle, she kicked back a long, burning swig. The whiskey tasted like home and two-hundred years ago. She watched as he opened up the medical kit and dug through the items inside. “Have you ever done this before?”

“What? Dug out a bullet,” he asked, bitter smirk on his lips, “Yeah. More times than I would have liked. Like you said, people get shot around here all the time.”

Charlie took another drink and swallowed hard, the alcohol not working fast enough to keep her pulse from jumping at the sight of metal tweezers and rubbing alcohol. “How bad does it hurt?”

Preston laughed again, glancing over at her this time. “Bad.”

“Well… that’s comforting.”

“I’m just being honest,” he explained, positioning himself so that he had a good look at her affected leg. He took his gloves off and looked up at her, “May I?” She nodded nervously, and watched as he unwound the bandage and cut away the remaining pieces of vault suit. She hadn’t gotten a good look at the injury until now, and she was thankful that the bullet seemed to be of a small caliber, like those that turrets fired, and wasn’t lodged too deeply. Under the bright lamplight, she could see it’s dull metal reflection. Preston sighed in relief, most likely noticing the same thing.

That it would hurt “bad” had been an honest understatement. Even after several shots worth of whiskey, the sharp burning pain of alcohol and tweezers pulling the bullet from her thigh was enough to make her light headed. Even Preston’s gentleness couldn’t spare her that much, and she squirmed and held her breath just to keep from screaming and waking up the others. When it was all said and done, she was trembling, out of breath, and sobbing like a child.

“Congratulations,” Preston said softly as he began to dress the now clean wound, “You survived your first Commonwealth surgery.”

Charlie let out a weary laugh and let her head fall back against the wall behind her, looking up at the ceiling, eyes unfocused. “Thanks, doc.”

“Don’t mention it.”

There was a long pause in which she heard him inhale as if he were going to say something, and then exhale as if he thought better of it. She brought her eyes down to him, effects of the alcohol really hitting her, along with the endorphin high. “Something on your mind?”

He stopped what he was doing to meet her gaze. “Why’d you go to all that trouble to bury those raiders?”

“I…” She began, but hesitated, worried that he’d disapprove of her compassion for members of a group that’d terrorized him for days on end at Concord, who killed some of his friends. “I thought it was the right thing to do. When we walked up on him he was in the middle of burying a comrade. He’d spread flowers over her and everything…”

She choked on the last words and trailed off, but Preston seemed to understand, as he nodded and went back to dressing her wound.

“I feel sorry for them sometimes too,” he admitted, as he tied a neat knot in the bandage, “They might be messed up, but they’re still people.”

“Right.” Charlie nodded.

“You’re a good person,” he stated, eyes fixing on hers. “I’m… I’m glad you decided to stick around.”

Her face became hot. It must have been the whiskey finally getting to her, she told herself. After all, it wouldn’t make sense for her to get all flustered over a compliment. She carelessly let her hand fall on his arm again. “Me too.”

Charlie awoke the next day, more afternoon than morning, tucked neatly into a bed that she could scarcely remember crawling into. In fact, everything from the time Preston had finished dressing her wound was blurry and she made a mental note to avoid the Old Appalachia from now on, or at least to refrain from drinking half a fifth in one sitting. She crawled out from beneath the thin blanket and sat up, leg aching more than it had since she’d gotten shot. Damn.

Glancing down, she noticed she was wearing a pair of faded jeans that were too short for her and an old white tee that exposed her navel when she raised her arms to stretch and yawn. They were not her clothes, and she’d no idea whose clothes they were, or how she got out of her vault suit and into them. She snorted out a laugh at the thought of poor Preston fumbling around in the dark trying to help her change. She doubted that’s what happened, but her memory was too fuzzy to say it hadn’t.

Across the room, folded neatly atop her dresser was a familiar blue and yellow fabric, and she hopped up-- too quickly, wincing at the pain in her leg-- and limped over to take a look. Picking it up and unfolding it, it took her a moment to realize that it wasn’t her whole vault suit anymore, missing an entire bottom half, and split open down the front. She also noticed that there were neatly stitched seams along the edges. A jacket? Someone had gone to the effort of making a jacket from her vault suit and she didn’t even know who to thank.

She slipped one arm in and then the other. It fit like a glove, a much more comfortable, less skin-tight glove than it had previously. A quiet knock on the doorframe nearby drew Charlie’s attention and she darted her head up to see Marcy standing in the doorway, smirk in place of her signature scowl. Suddenly, Charlie remembered.

“I’m glad it fits,” Marcy said as she looked Charlie up and down. Preston had woken the other woman up the night before to ask if she had anything Charlie could wear. Marcy had cursed and complained, but ended up shooing him away and helped her get changed and into bed. Apparently she was also the culprit behind Charlie’s new jacket. “Couldn’t salvage the whole thing.”

“You did this,” Charlie asked, examining the sleeves.

“Yep,” Marcy stated, looking down at the ground as if she was embarrassed, “Couldn’t get back to sleep after Garvey woke me up, and figured it might be good to have. Considering none of my clothes are quite long enough for your beanpole ass.”

Charlie laughed, and tugged at the bottom of the t-shirt. “Thanks, Marcy.”

“Yeah, well don’t get used to it. I still think you’re useless,” Marcy retorted with a huff, but it was clear she didn’t mean what she said. “And I want my clothes back as soon as you find something else to wear.”

Charlie nodded, and Marcy turned to walk away, but stopped and pivoted back around on her heel, pointing an index finger at her. “Mama’s been waiting for you to wake up. She found some Jet this morning and is off her rocker talking about some bright glowing heart shit. Just a heads up.”

Before Charlie could even say her thanks, Marcy was gone. Turning her attention back to herself, she realized she had no clue where she’d left her PipBoy. She scanned the room, and saw it sat on the floor near her boots. Picking it up and examining it for damage, she fastened it to her wrist and then slipped on her boots before heading out into the hallway.

It was a bit disorienting at first. She wasn’t in the place where she normally slept, instead she stood in the house that had become the common area for all of the settlers. She must’ve been too woozy and injured to make it farther into the cul de sac. She turned to her left and spied Mama Murphy in the open living room, sitting in her specially crafted chair, feet dangling happily just a few inches from the ground.

“Hey kid,” she hollered, motioning for Charlie to come closer, and Charlie obliged, secretly hoping that her doped up insight would give more answers about where Shaun had been taken.

“Mornin’ Mama,” Charlie answered and made her tedious way over to the old woman and sat down on the sofa near her.

“The Sight,” Mama croned, “It’s shown me more about your boy, your sweet boy.”

Charlie winced, unsure if she wanted to know now, but leaned forward and took the old woman’s outstretched, weathered hand. “What is it,” she pleaded.

Just as Marcy said, Mama Murphy recited a prophecy about Diamond City, and people with chained up hearts refusing to provide Charlie with answers about her son’s whereabouts. With the exception of one. One heart that would lead her way, “so bright against the dark alleys it walks.” It didn’t make sense, but she’d never been to Diamond City, didn’t have enough information to even begin to decipher it.

“What does that mean,” she asked clumsily

Mama smiled, and shook her head. “Beats me, Kid. I only know what the Sight shows me. Maybe you get me some mentats, maybe I--”

“Now, Mama,” grumbled a familiar voice nearby, Charlie followed the old woman’s gaze to where it had been preemptively fixed on the door Sturges had just entered, face covered with smudges of oil, “You know Ms. Charlie’s not gonna fall for any of that nonsense.”

She shrugged. “Meh, you never know, Sturge. Seems like she wants to find her boy.”

“Not sure the boss would like it too much if he knew you were abusin’ her good graces,” Sturges scolded her playfully as he popped open a bottle of Nuka Cola, and sat the cap in a pile with others on the counter.

“Preston's not my boss,” Mama scoffed, and then turned back to Charlie, “He’s waiting for you though, kid.”

“Preston?” Charlie asked, taken aback by the sudden change in topic. “Me? Why?

Mama and Sturges exchanged a glance before Sturges spoke up. “Don’t really know to be honest. He doesn’t really say much about how he’s feelin’, but he’s been worried ever since you left.”

“He sees your promise,” Mama chimed in, “He sees what I see.”

Even with the analgesic effects of a newly injected stimpak, walking the length of the neighborhood had proven to be a slow, awkward process for Charlie. Her leg was weak, throbbing, and numb, but at least it still worked. At least she was still alive.

The more time she had to think about her escapade at Corvega, the more she realized how she’d survived on nothing but pure, unadulterated luck. She’d seen it in Preston’s eyes the night before, his bewilderment that she’d managed to take down a raider gang of that size. She’d also seen his guilt, as if he intended to blame himself for something that had not happened. For all she knew of him, that was normal. Whatever had happened before she ran into him and the others in Concord really did a number on the guy.

Charlie heard him before she saw him, humming and making an effort to tune a two hundred year-old guitar. A smile twitched on her lips, heart warming at the sight of him sat on a rusty patio chair, surrounded by an audience of lawn flamingos. He had his hat off and laying on the table. In her two months of knowing him, she’d never seen him so relaxed.

“Your G’s a little sharp there Garvey,” she called out to him playfully as she made her way over and sat down in the chair across from him, propping her good leg up on the table. He didn’t flinch or show any other signs of surprise at her approach, and continued to fiddle with the guitar.

“I know,” he answered, tearing his eyes away from the instrument to look up at her, “I can’t get the damn thing to cooperate.”

“It is at least a couple of centuries old.”

He sat the guitar down and turned to face her more squarely. It was the first time she could remember getting a good look at him with his hat off. Objectively, of course, he was handsome, with soft features and a smile that he definitely knew how to use to his benefit. Preston was nice. He wasn’t naive. How could he have been, growing up in a world like the one she’d woken up in? The scar that ran from temple to cheekbone on the left side of his face was more prominent than it had seemed before, masked in shadows. It looked like an old wound, and she wondered how he’d gotten it.

“Well,” he said, amusement plain on his face, “Being a couple centuries old hasn’t stopped you.”

“It certainly tried,” she replied, ignoring the knots in her stomach and back of her mind telling her it might have been better if it had stopped her. “Damn near got the better of me at that plant.”

Preston nodded and let out a breath. “About that… how are you feeling?”

Charlie looked down at her injured leg and then back up at him. “Like shit,” she stated, “But I suppose that’s better than the alternative.”

“That’s for sure,” he said, sort of absentmindedly, gaze seeming unfocused and off in the distance. There was a long, heavy pause before he spoke again. “I don’t think I ever got around to saying thank you last night. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for us since Concord. Without your help...well, I’m not sure we would have made it.”

“I…”Charlie began, but trailed off, “You’re welcome, Preston.”

There was another pause and he leaned forward and grabbed his hat, tracing his fingers across the brim. “I know that I told you I’m one of the last Minutemen, but I don’t think I ever mentioned how it ended up that way.”

She shrugged. “I figured you would tell me when you were ready to talk about it.”

“I’ve started calling it the Quincy Massacre,” he said somberly.

“Quincy. That’s where you and the others are from, right?”

“That’s right,” he answered, “Sturges, Mama Murphy, and the Longs all lived in Quincy when the Minutemen got a call for help dealing with some Gunners who’d been scouting the area. I went with Colonel Hollis, my commanding officer at the time, and several others to answer the call. It all went downhill after that.”

Unsteadily, Preston opened up to her, explaining how his contingent had been the only to arrive, and their numbers were too few to handle an assault by the much more heavily armed Gunners. Colonel Hollis had called for help, only for a traitorous Minutemen veteran named Clint to show up and lead the Gunners right through the gates. Preston told her how he had to watch settlers and his own comrades die, helpless and running through the streets. He’d made a knee jerk decision to evacuate, and take as many survivors with him as he could along the way. Apparently, that wasn’t where the trouble had ended though. He and his group traveled for over a month without finding anywhere safe to settle, facing disaster after disaster until finally getting trapped up in the museum at Concord.

The story was heartbreaking, but to watch Preston tell it was even more so. Charlie could tell that he blamed himself for each and every loss that happened under his leadership. He wore his guilt all over his face.

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” she said softly, “And I’m glad that I showed up when I did, although I really have no idea how I managed to do… all of that.”

“It’s almost like it’s fate... or something,” he muttered. His words were followed by an embarrassed laugh and a shake of his head as if he couldn’t believe his own mouth. “Sorry. I’ve been spending too much time around Mama.”

“Hey.” Charlie laughed, and slid her leg off the table, leaning forward to pat his shoulder reassuringly. “Hope’s addictive. Just like the chems.”

Preston sighed. “Damn it if that’s not the truth.”

“Also, I think the old loon might be onto something,” she added, tapping a finger to her temple, “The only reason I limped out to this end of the settlement to see you was because Mama said you wanted to talk to me, something about you seeing my promise?”

“Well I’ll be damned,” he said appearing genuinely surprised, as if Mama Murphy’s clairvoyance was something new, “She’s out here stealing all of my thunder.”

The way he looked at her, as if she held the entirety of his hope in her trembling hands, made her shift uncomfortably. The weight of Mama Murphy’s words now settled on her shoulders like a lead blanket. She had never been one to believe in coincidences, but it was hard to accept that any of this was her destiny.

She cleared her throat, attempting to be nonchalant. “So, what’s this promise of mine everyone is so certain of?”

“The Commonwealth desperately needs the Minutemen,” Preston explained, “Now more than ever, and I plan to rebuild them stronger and more organized, without all of the petty squabbles and infighting that have plagued our history.”

“Sounds like you just need to find a good leader,” Charlie remarked, feeling helpful.

Preston eyed her intently and she suddenly regretted her words. “Exactly,” he said with a grin.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she protested, waving her hands in front of her in a panic, “You’re not suggesting that I should lead the Minutemen, are you?”

“I am.”

“On what qualifications?” She was nearly shrieking. “I know next to nothing about the organization, it’s history. I can barely hold my own in a fight. I--”

“Charlie,” Preston remarked, rather directly, “The Minutemen aren’t an army. We’re citizen soldiers, people of the Commonwealth banded together to protect ourselves and decide our own futures. We fell apart because our leadership forgot what we stood for, but you could bring us back together, bring the whole Commonwealth together.”

“Why me?” Charlie was flattered at his faith in her but so confused. “Why not you, or anyone else?”

“You helped us at Concord and every day since, without anything in it for you,” he explained, “You had your own problems to deal with and you helped us anyway. Hell, you even won Marcy over. That kind of compassion and selflessness has been in short supply around here for a long time.”

“Preston, I am flattered by all of this, but I’m not sure I can take on that kind of responsibility right now.”

“Listen,” he said, offering her a reassuring smile, “If you really don’t feel like you’re up to it, I’m not going to twist your arm. I get that it’s hard to deal with other people’s problems when you’ve got your own.”

Charlie pondered for a moment, and asked, “What would I have to do?”

“Just what you’ve been doing,” he answered as if it were obvious as day, “Help people. Recruit. Spread hope. And I’ll be behind you every step of the way.”

She couldn’t deny that it was tempting. As much of a mess as she was herself, she was compelled to help others. If anything, it could give her something to focus on, a sense of purpose, a way to use her skill set. She brought her eyes up to meet his, chased away the nagging doubts in her head, and nodded. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

“You’re sure?”

“As sure as I’ll ever be.”

“Well, the leader of the Minutemen has always held the title of General, and since I’m the last of the Minutemen, there’s no one here to argue with me when I say it belongs to you now.”

“So I’m General Smart now?” Charlie laughed at the complete absurdity of the situation. Leading a bunch of neo-colonials to resettle Massachusetts wasn’t exactly how she pictured her life turning out. “Does that mean I get a cute little hat?”

Preston returned her laughter, relief washing over his face at her decision. “If you want one, General, then absolutely.”

Perhaps her mother had been right all of those years ago. Maybe she really could change the world.

#preston garvey #fallout 4 #preston garvey x sole survivor #preston garvey x f!sole survivor #revolutionary #fanfic #my writing

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