#and the person who had the garden before me left about 60 or so plates? why would one have that many playes in a Schrebergarten?

[kindofinprogress]

What. A. Git.

Harry Potter fell in love at 18.

At least, that’s how old he was when he realized he was in love. He’d felt quite at home in this state so surely it must have happened when he wasn’t looking. Perhaps it happened when he was 16 and playing quidditch with her in the back garden of her home or later that year when an untamed amount of anger filled him at the sight of another boy near her in all the ways he’d wish he could be. Maybe it happened after their historic first kiss in front of 50 of their peers or the subsequent, equally as historic (although much more private), “walk” after said kiss. Maybe it was later, when he was 17, sometime in the nine grueling months he had to spend away from her- where all he could do was try and not think about how much he missed her. Distance makes the heart grow fonder and all that, right? Or, it could have happened the second, the very mind-clouding moment, that he got to hold her in his arms again after those nine months and the battle that ended the war in which he lost so much. But not her. She managed to come out on the other side and he couldn’t thank enough deities about it if he tried.

Whenever it was- he was sure he was fully, irrevocably, assuredly, enduringly, and all of the other painfully cliche words one could come up with, in love exactly one month after she left on a train for her last year of schooling.

Harry Potter was pitiful. That’s the word that Ron used, anyway. Well, if not being able to stand missing Ginny, his Ginny after the longest, grueling month of his life then that was fine. Alright, perhaps it was possible he’d had worse months so maybe he could tone down the dramatics. But, Harry rationalized, last year he had countless “worst” months- one right after the other in what at the time seemed like an endless string. And even back then he would have given up the world to be able to drop everything and get one good look at her. And he could do that now- quite easily and with a lot less at stake.

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It was after dinner at the Burrow where Harry sat in a room eating a delicious plate made by a stern and loving woman who’s laugh and annoyed tuts reminded him of his Ginny, sat next to a man with his Ginny’s wonderful curiosity, and surrounded by her brothers who had a mischievous edge to their jokes which only his Ginny could rival that he decided he would do just that. Drop everything and go see her- no matter how pathetic that made him in the eyes of his best mate.

Dinner was a more quiet affair these days. Spirits had livened up just enough at the end of September to where everyone could joke and ask each other about their days with genuine interest because they didn’t always end up back at sorrow-filled points but not enough that not at least one persons’ eyes welled up with tears by the end of the night. Or that someone had to excuse themselves when they almost mentioned Fred. But tonight, it wasn’t the collective longing for Fred to fill his seat at the dinner table or the mention of Teddy and the painful reminder that a 60-year-old woman and an 18-year-old man were now his main caretakers rather than his young and kind parents that created a knot in Harry’s throat. It was the mention of Ginny and the oh-how-busy-she-must-be fussing over her too-short letters home and her oh-so-important exams at the end of the year. After she came up Harry was in no mood to answer questions about his training, or if he and Ron would want the leftovers from tonights’ dinner, or to stay ‘round for after dinner drinks with the boys. Harry did stay, not from a lack of trying to leave though. Ron practically plucked him out of the floo and forced an ale into his palm. “Lighten up, we’ll see them at the end of October in Hogsmeade. No need to let a few miles soil our night.”

So, fine. Harry stayed and sulked over exactly one drink. He bid the clan of red-headed brothers goodnight while Ron went to the loo. Harry got home, put on his pajamas, washed his face and wrote a quick note to Ginny to meet him in the Shrieking Shack on the following night- October first. It was a Thursday and Harry figured it was too early in the year for any professors to be dishing out detentions to a castle full of grieving students and it wasn’t a special feast that night so the only thing that might get in his way would be Hermione’s time table.

The next morning, after about 5 more “you’re absolutely pitiful”’s from Ron, and a detailed description of exactly what he was to tell their training Auror his excuse for skiving off in the middle of a work week Harry set off for Hogwarts.

He arrived in town with enough time to stop by the Hog’s Head and grab dinner at the dusty bar and a quick conversation with the aloof Aberforth. The night’s air was well chilly as he made his way to the old, creaking shack and it wasn’t much better from inside. Harry made quick work to try and warm the place up with some charms but only managed to make it bearably stuffy before the door from the secret passage swung wide open and a red blur launched into his chest. Harry took in her flowery scent and dug his fingers into her hips bringing her as close as possible to him. Ginny looked up and met his eyes and Harry couldn’t help but bring his mouth to hers. The kiss was simple and all-consuming. It made his mind swirl. When he finally broke it and got a good look at her face he couldn’t help the soppy grin that overtook his features. It was so easy to let the world melt away and feel so happy with his Ginny around.

“Hey, you. You didn't just come all the way here to stare at me all night did you? We have pictures for that sort of thing you know.”

“Sorry.” He blurted. “No, that’s not what I came for. But it is quite fun. Be quiet and give me about another minute, would you?”

“Harry!” She giggled and swat at his arm. She leaned in and gave him a quick peck before untangling herself from him. “Why did you come? Is everything alright?” Her expression softened with concern in a way that made her look so absolutely endearing Harry swept her up and rightfully snogged her. When they broke apart, panting and out of breath minutes later he apologized again. “Sorry- couldn’t help it.”

He gave her a sheepish smile suddenly feeling just as pathetic as Ron had painted him to be. “I just. Er- I missed you. Is all. And I- I just wanted to see you. Is that okay? I’m sorry, you didn’t have anything important going on did you? Practice? I don’t even bloody know when you practice and I just made you drop everything because I’m a pathetic sop. I’m sor-”

Ginny shut him up with one of those small pecks that took his breath and all coherent thoughts away. “You silly man. Of course it’s alright, Harry. It’s more than alright. I’ve missed you too. I do have to admit you made me nervous with that note. It didn’t say anything!”

“Oh, bugger. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright, it freaked Hermione out enough to let me off the hook from studying with her tonight. We’ve been going over the same bloody chapter all week, Harry! I know you warned me but Godric, Hermione is boring me to tears and I think she’s enjoying it!”

Harry laughed and they exchanged another small moment of pure bliss. She had a way of doing that, Harry noticed. Filling a moment with everything. Filling him to the brim with happiness in the most minute ways. In that moment Harry wondered if that’s what his father felt for his mother. Later, Harry would reason with himself that James must have- for if anything was worth falling in love and marrying a girl straight out of school in the middle of a war that that feeling -this feeling- must have been in.

“Please, do carry on about your wild school year full of studying and classes.”

“Oh, only if you promise to drone on about your stuffy old coworkers and shoes that pinch your toes.”

“Hey, I’m serious! I want to know everything. I know you don’t put it all in your letters. I can tell your hand gets cramped when your writing gets all crooked and starts leaning on its side- which happens in every letter so I know you haven’t included everything you’ve wanted to.”

So Ginny spent the next half hour telling Harry about everything she felt was too little to write in her letters. Truthfully, she thought they were too little to be mentioning now when they had such a short time together but he truly seemed to be enjoying the conversation so she kept on only so he would keep looking at her like that. Like she was enchanting and everything. Ginny got the sudden courage to do something she’d been terrified of for weeks. “I had my career meeting with McGonagall my first week.” Harry searched deep in his brain for something to say to that- try as he might he couldn’t think of any specifics to ask- surely she’d mentioned this to him before. It was one of the most important meetings 5th, 6th, and 7th years had yearly and Ginny must’ve- “I didn’t mention it before because what we talked about just kind of happened. I just blurted it out without meaning to and she encouraged me, Harry. Me! She really thinks I’m capable of it.” Ginny let anticipation hang in the air for a second- reveling in the way she had Harry’s undivided attention. “She’s getting scouts from all over to come watch me play! I’m going to play quidditch professionally, Harry! Well, maybe. I have to be impressive enough for them to actually offer anything but-”

“You’re going to be amazing, Gin. Those scouts won’t know what hit them.”

“Oh, Harry. I knew I was right to wait to tell you before anyone else.”

Harry’s heart swelled with pride. He felt like he’d won a prize at that. It was in that moment that Harry realized he needed this for the rest of his life. To be the first one she shared good news with, to never miss out on being her biggest supporter, to get to watch her smile like this. To be around for all things Ginny Weasley.

It was ridiculous, then, the thought that before this visit he hadn’t known he was in love with her. She was Ginny Weasley. Beautiful Ginny who had boys falling at her feet, kind Ginny who took care of everyone she came in contact with, brilliant Ginny who was quick as a whip, brave Ginny who fought in a war at age 16 and faced much darker still at age 11- his Ginny. His talented, talented Ginny who was going to be a professional athlete. How cool was that? She was so cool and brave- his Ginny. Just looking at her now, talking a mile a minute, blushing at the confession that she’d been worried about her family’s reaction to her decision- about his reaction, eliciting confidence- he knew he was head over heels in love. She deserved the world and Harry would do anything to be the one to personally hand it to her.

Harry spent a while celebrating with Ginny and reluctantly left her to go to bed -way past her curfew- after about her tenth yawn. With promises to write and see each other soon Harry left on his way home feeling much lighter than he had in weeks.

Harry had always thought when he felt love for the first time it would be a bit more climactic than this. But strangely, this felt much better than any notion of falling in love he’d built up in his head. This was easy… natural. Nothing dramatic or flashy just… just the sheer act of being with Ginny was enough. And he was so fine with that.

It wasn’t until much later- in the early hours of the morning when Harry was finally crawling into bed that he realized he hadn’t even told her he loved her. What. A. Git.

#hinny fluff #hinny #harry x ginny

[snowdice]

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 60]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27

Okay. Not sure how long I’ll go today, but let’s work on this for a bit. Just gotta finish this side quest and then we can get back to the plot. ;)

Chapter 28

Thomas did not have to be told that something had gotten Helen Heart in a tizzy. He could tell just by the amount of food she had sent up on his dinner tray. She always made and pushed more food when she was stressed, and he couldn’t help but chuckle when he found both a hearty serving of roast beef and a mini chicken pot pie on his plate along with three vegetable side dishes and a side of macaroni and cheese.

He could also guess what had happened to illicit such a response. Thomas had caught up to Jeffers Deknis in his garden and they’d spoken at length about Logan and Patton’s new friend.

There was no way that after said discussion, Jeff had not mentioned Virgil (and more importantly his friendship with Patton) to Helen during their daily gossip sessions. There was also no way that Helen had heard the words “child” and “too small” in a sentence and hadn’t flipped. From there the inevitable sequence of events was clear: Patton went home, Helen talked his ear off until he agreed to bring Virgil to meet her, Helen met him and immediately committed herself to making sure he ate three square meals a day as well as multiple snacks.

Thomas had sussed all of that out before the kitchen worker bringing him his dinner had mentioned what had happened that day.

 That in mind, he decided to wait until after dinner should have been cleaned up before walking his own dinner leftovers down to the kitchens.

Thomas was unsurprised to see Jeff already in the kitchen. He was sat at a small table off to the side where kitchen workers usually took their breaks. The only person other than Jeff and Helen left in the kitchen was a dishwasher who was finishing up. Helen usually spent a couple of hours after dinner in her kitchen or her office organizing for the next day and in case anyone needed food on an off hour, and then there was a night cook who would take over so she could go back to her set of rooms.

 Helen took the tray of leftovers from Thomas herself and shooed the dishwasher out of the way. “I’ll handle the rest myself,” she told the girl. “You can leave.”

She nodded and started to take her apron off. Helen dumped the tray on the counter without care and turned back around to usher Thomas into one of the kitchen chairs. Thomas went willingly and she turned to fill the tea kettle with water and set it on the stove.

“It take it she met Virgil,” Thomas said to Jeff.

“She’s adopted Virgil,” Jeff replied, taking a bite out of a cookie.

 “And what of it?” she asked. “Someone obviously needs to feed the boy. Speaking of, you’re grounding your son by the way.”

Thomas took one of the cookies for himself. “Why am I grounding Logan?” he asked.

“He was worried enough about his health to make him a nutrition potion, but still did not bring him to me,” she harrumphed.

“I see,” Thomas replied.

“In Logan’s defense,” Jeff interrupted. “the boy seems rather timid. He may have worried about you scaring him off.”

Helen slapped him with a dishtowel.

“Actually,” Jeff continued. “From what I’ve gathered he didn’t have contact with anyone since the time I saw him a couple of weeks ago until now.”

 “Any adults,” Thomas corrected with a frown. “I’m pretty sure he, Patton, and Logan must have been around each other considering how close they already seem to be.” He paused, “Logan implied he wasn’t particularly… comfortable around adults.”

“I did get that impression, yes,” Helen said, pouring the hot water from the kettle into a tea pot and carrying it and some cups over to the table.

“He was incredibly jumpy,” Jeff confirmed. “I imagine he does not have good experiences with many people, but he seems to have grown attached to Logan and Patton. He defers to them in most things and seemed a bit protective.

 “Where did he come from?” Thomas asked.

“I’m not sure,” Jeff said. “I found him hiding in the garden shed a couple of weeks ago.”

“Did he sneak in?” Thomas asked.

“That’s what I would have thought,” Jeff replied, “but when I asked, he said he wasn’t trying to steal anything and that he was supposed to be in the castle. So, I’d assumed that meant he was the child of someone living in the caste.”

“But neither of us could find anyone who knew him,” Helen said. “Of course, we didn’t even know his name until now.” She seemed to decide the tea leaves had sat long enough because she started to pour them each a cup of tea.

Thomas took a sip. “Earl Grey,” he commented. “I guess I’m not sleeping much tonight.” It was her ‘planning tea.’

 “We need a plan,” she said, “but we’re going to have to be gentle.”

“At least with Virgil,” Jeff said.

Thomas laughed lightly, “and what do you plan to do with the other two?”

“I have my ways.”

Helen rolled her eyes. “You say that,” she said, “but you’re too soft. The two of them learned to run circles around you and your powers years ago.”

“We should talk to them though,” Thomas said. “Separately from Virgil.”

“We should,” Helen agreed. “I already spoke to Patton a bit yesterday, but I will again. We should see if we can ask around and find out why he’s in the castle. We don’t even know how long he’s lived here. Or who brought him here.” The look on her face told Thomas she wanted to have a talk with his guardians whoever and wherever they were.

 Helen took a drink of tea, it seemed to calm herself. “We need to make sure whatever has been happening to him is not happening in these walls,” she said.

Thomas had honestly… not thought about that. He’d assumed whatever made Virgil so skittish was in the past, but it was possible that it was ongoing. The thought made him sick.

“Perhaps you should try to talk to him, Thomas,” Helen suggested.

Thomas winced. “I am not sure that is a good idea...”

“Why not?”

“We don’t have the best track record… I don’t think me being around him would be a good idea.”

 “Oh, please, Thomas,” Helen said disbelievingly.

“No, you don’t understand,” Thomas said. “He seems disproportionately afraid of me. I think it’s a mix of me being king and how we met.”

“How did you meet?” Helen asked.

“I… gave him a bit of a fright,” Thomas admitted. “Logan and Patton weren’t in the room and I didn’t know who he was. He… ended up under the bed. Then… the second time I saw him he accidently ran into me. He freaked out again.” The memory still made Thomas feel gross. It also made him think there was a lot more to his backstory than the three of them understood.

43410

“Perhaps Jeff can try to talk to him then,” Helen said. “It sounds like he was calmest around you. I’ll push Patton towards taking him to the garden more often. I bet fresh air would do him some good anyway.”

Jeff nodded. “I will try to talk to him a bit more.”

“Great,” Helen said, but Thomas already knew the conversation wasn’t over. “Now we need to talk about strategic events to throw over the next few months that Patton and Logan to invite Virgil to. We’ll start slow, but we need to make sure he feels welcome in the castle.”

Thomas met Jeff’s eyes. Yeah, it was going to be a long night.

  Chapter 29

Virgil finished eating the breakfast Patton’s mom had sent for him. It had been going on a week since she’d made the menu for him. She sent up little cards with each meal and he was supposed to rate each thing she sent on a scale from 1-5. Logan would read it to him before he ate, and Virgil mark the little box on the card. Usually, he would put a 4 for everything (he had tried to do 5, but Logan had told him 5 was reserved for things like chicken alfredo). Three was for things that he was neutral on, 2 was for things he didn’t like but could tolerate, and 1 was for things he didn’t like. So far, the only 3 was the unseasoned porridge she’d sent one day.

 “Finished?” Logan asked.

“Yeah,” Virgil said.

“What would you like to do today?” Logan asked. “Patton is busy until after lunch, and then we thought you might like to go back to the garden again. It’s supposed to drop in temperature over the next few days, so it will be the last good day for it.”

“Sounds good,” Virgil said. “I don’t care what we do today though.”

“Well, there are a few options,” Logan said.

“What do you want to do?” Virgil asked.

Logan made an expression, and Virgil titled his head. “I’m don’t have anything in particular I want to do,” he said.

“You’re lying,” Virgil said immediately.

 “You would not be interested in the activity I wish to partake in,” Logan said.

Virgil squinted at him. “I’d be interested in laying on the ground and staring at the ceiling.”

Logan chuckled. “No, truly. The activity I would do if you were not present would involve reading.”

“You can read to me,” Virgil suggested.

“…In Sanskrit.”

Virgil frowned at him. “Isn’t that, like, some sort of dead language?”

“It is,” Logan said. “I taught myself to read it to read a specific book called the Pragilium Text. It’s an encoded book that leads to a magical location that I have been trying to decode for years.”

 “That’s fine,” Virgil said. “You can do that.”

“It would be in the library,” Logan said.

“Okay.”

“But…” Logan said. “It would in no way be interesting to you.”

Virgil shrugged. “Like I said. I’m content to lie on the floor for a few hours.”

Logan frowned. “I can’t make you do that.”

“You wouldn’t be making me,” Virgil said. “I want to go. Maybe you can find me an easy book I could try to read?”

“Are you certain?” he asked.

Virgil nodded, decisively.

“Very well, get dressed and I will show you the library.”

Virgil stood to do so and a few minutes later, Logan was leading him out of the royal wing.

 Both of the guards greeted him kindly, and Virgil hunched his shoulders in a bit, but said a soft “hi.”

The library didn’t end up being too far away. It was through the small dining hall and to the left where the staircase to the kitchen was to the right.

“This is not the main library,” Logan said. “It is just a smaller one. The royal librarian comes here only about once a week to organize. Some other castle residents might come in too, but it is usually mostly empty.” Virgil could tell just by listening for a few seconds that the place was likely empty (unless someone was lying in wait).

 “I’ll look and see if there is something simple for you in case you’d like to read. You can explore a bit if you’d like,” Logan said.

Virgil nodded and stalked off into the shelves to secure the area. There were many books, not that he could quite read any of the spines. The bookcases were mostly cramped into the space. There was the open area where they’d come in with a few comfy chairs and Virgil found a desk near one of the windows. It had stacks of books including one pretty large and old one. He looked at it curiously.

 Virgil heard Logan’s footsteps approach from down an aisle. “That’s the Pragilium text,” he said.

“It’s pretty,” Virgil said, looking at the design etched into the cover.

“Yes,” Logan agreed. He reached forward to touch it and opened it carefully. The print was small and didn’t look like the letters Logan had taught him so far. There was a small map on the side that Virgil could at least guess at the meaning of.

“You can read that?” Virgil asked.

“I can,” Logan said. “Very few people can though.”

“Wow, you’re really smart.”

“Thank you,” Logan said with a smile.

 “Now,” Logan continued. “I found you a book. I apologize as its subject matter is for younger children, but it has many pictures that can help give you context when you don’t know something. You don’t have to read it if you do not wish to, especially as we haven’t gotten very far in our lessons, but I thought you might like the challenge.

He handed him the book and Virgil took it with a smile. “I’ll try to read it,” he said.

“Well, you have free reign of the library. Feel free to continue to explore and to interrupt me if you need to.”

 Virgil nodded and took the book before deciding to finish his sweep of the library. It turned out that appearances were not deceiving, and the library truly was empty. Once he was certain about that, he looked around for a comfortable place to settle down and try to read the book Logan had handed him. He found a sturdy looking bookshelf near where Logan was reading at his desk. He scaled it quickly. It was a little bit dusty at the top, but it wasn’t a bad place. It was close to the ceiling and kept him hidden pretty well, but still gave him enough room to pop up onto his elbows. If he looked left, he could see Logan down bellow with his head in the book, but if he looked right, he could see the entrance to the library.

 He pulled the book in front of him and looked at the cover. It was covered in drawings of different colored flowers. One simple white flower was in the center and there were three words on the cover. He squinted at it and silently tried to sound it out based on what Logan had taught him so far. He could guess that the larger word was ‘flowers’ based on context. So, he was pretty sure it read How Flowers Grow.

He flipped open the book. Logan was right, there were many hand drawn beautiful pictures. He could pretty much understand what was happening just from them even if he couldn’t read all of the words.

 It was an interesting book even if he couldn’t read it and it was obviously made for small children. Judging by the pictures it seemed to be detailing how plants, or at least, flowers grew through some kid planting and caring for a flower over the course of some amount of time.

Virgil had, of course, known flowers grew from seeds, but it was interesting to see things about how the stem would pop out of the seed in the ground and things about the roots growing.

He more looked through the pictures than read it the first time but had flipped back to the front to try to read the words when he heard the library door open.

 Virgil perked up in awareness, but then settled when he recognized Patton’s footsteps. Virgil tilted his head to watch as he walk directly to Logan’s hideaway.

“Hi,” he said, gaining Logan’s attention.

“Hello, Patton,” Logan replied. He glanced at the window and must have seen that time had passed because he closed his book and shuffled his papers.

“The guards said you came here,” Patton said, glancing around. “Where’s Virgil?”

Instead of letting Logan answer that question, Virgil pulled himself forward, with the book in one hand and slid off the bookshelf to land lightly on his feet next to Patton.

Patton screamed before slapping a hand over his mouth.

 Logan had placed his hand over his heart. “Where on Earth did you come from?” he asked.

Virgil blinked at him and then pointed to the bookshelf he’d been on top of.

“How long were you up there?” Logan asked.

“Pretty much the whole time,” Virgil answered.

“I…” Logan said. “I didn’t even know.”

Virgil squinted at him. “You need to learn to look up.”

Patton giggled.

Virgil turned on him. “You need to learn to case the area.”

“Oh honey, your shirt is all covered in dust,” Patton said instead of responding to his very valid criticism. Virgil frowned. “Let’s get you changed and then go grab some lunch.”

“Lunch?” Virgil asked.

Patton chuckled and grabbed his hand. “Yes, sweetie, lunch. Then garden.”

“Fine,” Virgil said. “But you do need to learn to be more observant.

“Yes, yes, whatever you say,” Patton said.

Logan just rolled his eyes.

  Chapter 30

After lunch, Patton and Logan took Virgil out into the garden to walk around. They let Virgil lead them around wherever he wanted to in the garden. A bunch more flowers had died since the last time they’d been out here, and Patton felt sad despite having never felt very sad about that sort of thing before. But, Virgil seemed to really like the flower he’d found last time, so Patton thought he was probably sad on the boy’s behalf.

Of course, Patton thought, perking up, eventually it would be spring, and Virgil could get to not only see flowers but see all of the flowers grow. Patton couldn’t wait to see him amongst the garden then.

 Virgil took them wandering through the orchard for a while, but most of the trees had been stripped of their fruits. They ended up in the food garden after a bit, and Virgil finally seemed to decide on the direction instead of just ambling about.

A few seconds after Patton noticed Virgil seemingly decide on a destination, Patton noticed Mr. Deknis kneeling on the ground a few feet away. Had… had Virgil been looking for him? Patton wondered. That was adorable.

Mr. Deknis looked up as they approached and smiled at them.

“Hello, Mr. Deknis,” Patton said as they came closer.

 “Hello you three,” Mr. Deknis said. “Getting into trouble?”

“No,” Virgil said, shaking his head.

Mr. Deknis gave him a flash of a smile. “I know, I’m joking,” he said. “Especially since there isn’t much left in my gardens for certain princes to destroy with experiments.”

“Oh, okay,” Virgil said. He tilted his head. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting the last of the acorn squash out,” Mr. Deknis replied. “It’s the last crop to get finished. Good thing too, it’s supposed to start snowing soon.”

Virgil looked down curiously at the dark green squash.

“Would you like to help me pick a couple?” Mr. Deknis asked.

 “Sure,” Virgil said, sounding interested. Mr. Deknis patted the ground beside him and Virgil knelt down to watch him.

“They’re not too difficult to harvest,” he said. “You just cut the fruit off the stem. You want to leave about a hand’s width of the stem left over which will help preserve moisture. The earlier harvests, I left in the field to cure in the sun for a couple weeks, but the frost’ll ruin them so we’ll take them inside the green house and let them sit in the sun for a bit there. We also want to keep the leaves. You’ll probably be eating those for dinner tonight since they have to be cooked up within about 24 hours after they’re picked. Patton’s mom makes a good side dish with them and she’ll be making some curry tomorrow, probably. Maybe some stew if there are some leftover.”

 “Put the squash in this wheelbarrow and the leaves into this pile, okay?” Virgil nodded and Mr. Deknis handed him the extra pair of gloves and shears he carried with him in case one set broke. “These might be a bit big on your, but they should work for now.”

Mr. Deknis looked up at Patton and Logan. “Would the two of you like to help?” he asked. “I can get some more equipment.”

“I can help out if you want, but you don’t need to stop and get more equipment just for me,” Patton said.

“The same for me,” Logan said.

“Well, if you’d like to help still, you can sort the leave. Give your mother a head start.”

 “Sure,” Patton said. He and Logan went to do that while Mr. Deknis and Virgil worked on cutting the squashes from the vine.

“What do you do during the winter?” Virgil asked curiously. “If this is your last crop.”

“Well, at the beginning, I mostly will be working on making sure things are stored correctly along with some of the kitchen staff. There’s some drying to do and some canning. After that’s done, I’ll spend some time organizing and planning. Then, before the spring comes, I’ll start preparing seedlings in the green house.”

“Seedlings?” he asked.

“I let seeds start to grow in the greenhouse that I replant once it gets warm enough.”

 “Why don’t you just plant them where they’re going?”

“I do for some,” he said, “but giving some a head start is good for them.”

Patton watched as Virgil continued to ask questions about gardening while working on harvesting the squash. Mr. Deknis continued to answer them in a calm, soft tone that Patton didn’t think he’d ever heard from the often gruff man before.

Patton wasn’t surprised when, after finishing getting most of the squash off of the vine, Mr. Deknis asked if Virgil wanted to help him with canning some pears in a couple of days. Virgil immediately looked over at Logan and Patton as though asking permission.

“Say yes if you want to Virgil,” Logan said.

 “Yes,” Virgil said as soon as he was given permission. Mr. Deknis smiled at him softly and started loading the last of the squash into the wheelbarrow. Patton offered to run the squash leaves to the kitchen while Logan and Virgil helped Mr. Deknis take the actual squash to the green house.

He dropped the leaves off to a kitchen worker since Mama was busy and headed back out to the garden. By the time he returned, Logan was already back from the green house and sitting by one of the more decorative trees near the castle.

“He’s exploring,” Logan said, nodding at the large patch of bushes.

 Patton chuckled. “I see.” He sat next to Logan. Every so often he’d hear the bushes rustle, but he couldn’t tell if it was actually Virgil or an animal.

“He’s adorable,” Patton commented, keeping an ear out.

Logan hummed.

“I’m glad we kept him.”

“He isn’t a pet, Patton.”

Patton rolled his eyes. “I know, but I’m still glad. I’m glad he’s making friends with Mr. Deknis. Once he knows how to read better, we should get him a book about gardening. He seems interested.”

Logan nodded. “Having a hobby would be good for him. Clearly he has a fascination with the garden.” He nodded to the blur of dark hair that could be seen through the bushes. It seemed Virgil had stopped his exploration and was now laying down in the bushes a few feet away.

 “I’m going to go see what he’s doing,” Patton said. “I’ll be right back.”

Logan nodded and Patton got to his feet. The bushes were part of a small maze that was filled with flowers during the spring and summer months but were mostly just green and brown bushes for now. Despite the fact that Patton had been able to see him only a few feet away, it took him a while to wind through the path to where he was. When he finally turned the last corner and he came into view, Patton gasped softly.

“Ghost kitty!” he said, making sure to make his voice as quiet as possible.

 Despite how soft he made his voice, two pairs of eyes shot over to him. The completely black kitten was perched on Virgil’s lap like she belonged there. Ghost Kitty hissed slightly, but Virgil reached forward to pet her head gently.

“This is Ghost Kitty?” Virgil asked. “I thought you said she was hard to pet.”

“She is,” Patton said. He lowered himself onto the ground from a few feet away from them. “How did you get her to come to you?”

Virgil glanced down at the cat and shrugged, scratching one of her ears. “She just came over to me and let me pet her.”

 “Wow,” Patton said softly. He looked at the cat. “Could I pet you sweetie?” he asked, holding out a hand in her direction. She hissed again.

Virgil frowned down at her. “It’s Patton,” he said as though he expected to understand his words and the exasperation in the tone he said them in.

He pet the cat’s head to soothe her and then reached over to grab Patton’s hand. He pulled and Patton carefully leaned a bit closer until his hand was within sniffing distance. Ghost Kitty sniffed his fingers contemplatively and then bumped her head against it. He barely restrained a squeal, knowing that probably wouldn’t be taken well.

 He carefully turned his hand over so he could stroke the top of her head. He gently scratched her ear, not daring to go for under her chin yet since she didn’t know him well. “Hi,” he said softly. After a moment, she started to purr softly. Virgil reached over and scratched under her chin and she purred louder. “Oh, you’re a good girl,” Patton breathed, letting a hand trail gently down her back once and then again. Patton settled himself carefully into a seating position continuing to pet her. After a few more moments of soft petting, she hesitantly stepped her front paws onto Patton’s thigh so she was sitting in both of their laps. Patton laughed softly. “Hi sweetie.” He glanced over at Virgil who had a wide smile on his face as he pet the cat. This. This was adorable. They continued to pet the cat for a very long time.

  Chapter 31

Logan waited for a while after Patton left to check on Virgil, but the two never resurfaced. It was odd, Patton would usually remember to come back and get Logan or at least tell them where they were. With a sigh, Logan climbed to his feet to go find them. It took him a while to weave his way through the maze of bushes to them especially because they were suspiciously quiet (Well, suspicious for Patton. Virgil was often unnervingly quiet when alone.) Luckily, he knew the bushes enough after all of these years not to get lost and managed to find the two after a few minutes.

“Ah,” he said, immediately identifying the reason for Patton disappearing.

 “Logan!” Patton said, his voice excited, but also quieter than normal. “We found a kitty!”

“I can see that,” Logan responded, taking a step closer. The cat hissed at him in response. The hissing was so intense and wild that he’d suspect the thing was feral if it wasn’t happily on Virgil’s lap having had it’s head in Patton’s lap before Logan had approached.

“No,” Virgil told the animal as though it could understand words. “That’s Logan. Be nice.”

The cat still glared at him and swished it’s tail back and forth threateningly. Virgil pet the top of it’s head and it broke eye contact with Logan to purr.

 Patton seemed delighted by the purring, reaching to stroke under the thing’s chin carefully. “We should give her a name!” Patton said.

Virgil frowned. “I thought her name was Ghost Kitty.”

“That is ‘Ghost Kitty’?” Logan asked skeptically. From what Patton had said about that cat, it was terrified of people and no one could ever get near it, even him. Now it was in Virgil’s lap?

“But that was a temporary name,” Patton said, “for before we officially met her. Now we have to give her a real name.”

“Do not give it a name,” Logan said. “You will get attached.”

 “How do you name a cat?” Virgil asked.

“Do not name it,” Logan said.

“You give them names based on their personalities, how they look, or even just because it’s a cute name,” Patton explained. “Like, remember Mittens? I named her Mittens because she has white fur and black paws!”

Virgil looked at the cat. “She’s completely black,” he said.

Patton hummed. “So, we could give her a name based on that like Midnight or Shadow.”

“Those are fine,” Virgil said.

“No, no,” Patton said. “I’m just giving you examples. You get to name her yourself.”

“This is a bad idea,” Logan said.

 “Just throw out some names,” Patton said. “Anything you can think of.”

“Uh,” Virgil said. “Knife.”

“…Just Knife?” Patton asked.

“Nightmare.” Virgil seemed to think about it. “No, that’s mean.”

“How about things you like?” Patton suggested.

“Alfredo?”

Oh no, Logan thought, he was worse than Patton at cat naming.

“Good start,” Patton said. “Logan, do you have any suggestions.”

“Cat,” Logan said.

“Real suggestions,” Patton scolded.

Logan sighed and thought for a moment. “Aphrodite.”

“Catphrodite!”

Logan glared at him. “Helena.”

“Helenpaw.”

“Claudia.”

“Clawdia.”

“Persephone.”

Patton smiled at him, cheerfully.

“…Damnit!”

Patton turned to Virgil again. “Like that! They don’t even have to be serious. Like, uh, you could name her Madam Fluffywuffykins the Great!”

“Do not name her that,” Logan said, scrunching up his nose.

 Logan sat on the ground, the cat eyeing him, but no longer hissing. Logan gently guided them towards more sensible names despite Patton trying his hardest to drag them into stupidity.

Virgil still didn’t quite get it. He mostly tried to name it after foodstuff, and often not even appropriate foodstuff such as “Corn” and “Acorn Squash” and “Sandwich” and occasionally would drop in semi violent ones such as “Razor,” “Nightshade” and “Void.” Patton suggested names like “Fluffers,” “Bobette” and “Darling” as well as some that were puns. Logan tried to direct them towards more sensible ones like “Salem” and even went so low as to suggest the contrary “Snowball.”

 It quickly seemed to become less about actually naming the cat and more of a game. Patton had taught Virgil about playing with cats and had even gotten out a ball of yarn he cared around for his crafts. Both Virgil and the cat seemed to find endless entertainment with that. Logan hoped Patton had another ball of yarn that color because, he was never going to get that ball back.

The barrage of names fizzled out into naming things around them like “Leaf” and “Bush” until they stopped suggesting names altogether. Patton and Logan sat back and watched Virgil play with the cat.

 Logan watched as they stopped playing suddenly and Virgil and the cat squinted at each other. “Marisol,” Virgil said, pulling the name out of nowhere. “That’s her name.” He said it with a certainty that was surprising considering how he’d treated the naming process with confusion and caution earlier. If Logan did not know better, his tone of voice would indicate that the cat, or Marisol he guessed, had gotten bored of them coming up with stupid names and decided to tell him her actual name herself.

The cat made a sound and batted at Virgil’s face without claws to grab back his attention.

 He turned back to it and bopped its face with a finger in kind. It attacked his finger, but in a clearly playful matter as it still did not extend it’s claws and its teeth did not draw blood.

“That’s a great name, Virgil,” Patton said.

“Much more pleasant than any that Patton suggested all afternoon,” Logan said. He received an elbow to the side for his quip.

“A pretty name for a pretty kitty,” Patton said, scooting over to where Virgil was sat and attempting to pet Marisol’s head. Marisol, however, was too keyed up and batted at the hand.

 “I love you too!” Patton said.

Logan rolled his eyes, but he had long since resigned himself to watching the two of them play with and coo over the cat for the rest of the day.

Eventually, though, it started to get darker. Even after Logan pointed this out, it still took over an hour for them to relent and leave the bush maze to go to the door. The problem was of course, that the cat had managed to grow very attached to Virgil in the last few hours and she followed them all the way to the door with manipulatively heart breaking mews.

 “You’ve got to stay out here,” Virgil said, when they got to the castle door. He pet her ear softly and she shoved her head into his hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anywhere to put you.” He sounded horribly sad about that fact and Logan felt himself shift uncomfortably. “I basically live in a closet and Logan doesn’t like cats in his room anyway.”

Logan immediately felt unreasonably guilty, probably more so because Logan did not think Virgil was trying to make him feel guilty. “…Bring the dammed thing inside.”

Virgil blinked up at him. “What?”

“It will get cold soon anyway,” Logan said.

He frowned at Logan from where he was crouched. “But you don’t like fur in your room…”

“I will have to find a potion that works,” he said with a sigh, “and we’ll have to say it’s mine to the guards and Father since it will be staying in my room, but it is yours in every other way. That means you are going to feed it, clean it, and clean up after it.”

Virgil nodded immediately and swooped Marisol up in his arms. The cat went without complaint. “Thank you!” he said. “I love her.”

“I know you do,” Logan said, already regretting it already. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to even consider recanting the offer considering how happy Virgil seemed to be. They had a cat now, he guessed.

  Chapter 32

“What are you doing?” Helen asked a few minutes after her son walked into the kitchen and started looking around as though he were trying to find something. It was a few hours into the afternoon, and she and a few workers were already prepping for dinner.

“Uh,” Patton said. “Have you seen Virgil?”

“No,” Helen said. “Why.”

“Er… Logan and I sorta, lost him,” Patton said. He was wringing his hands anxiously. Helen put down the knife in her hand.

“What do you mean you lost him?” she asked.

“Well, see, we were trying to teach him how to play hide and seek, um, but then we didn’t think to tell him that he eventually had to come out if we didn’t find him, and now we haven’t seen him since breakfast.”

 “He didn’t know what tag is?” she asked. That was just one more thing to add to the list of why Helen worried about Virgil and where he came from. Every morsel of information she’d managed to wring from Patton despite his evasions made her lists of concerns grow larger, even little things like him not knowing about simple childhood games. Actually, thinking of concerning things having to do with Virgil. “Wait, so he hasn’t eaten lunch.”

“Um, we don’t know that,” Patton’s mouth said while his eyes said ‘no.’

“He needs to be on a consistent diet, especially when he’s still taking the malnutrition potion,” she scolded.

 “I know, Mama, I know,” Patton said. “I’m trying to find him. I’d kinda hoped he’d gotten hungry and snuck down here. He probably wouldn’t want to risk being caught stealing food though.”

Helen grimaced. Yet another concerning thing.

“Wait! I have an idea, I’ll be right back.” Patton turned and ran out of the room. Helen frowned at the space he’d been and finished chopping the carrot on the cutting board in front of her. If it had been any other person in the castle missing, Helen wouldn’t have worried, but she had literally never seen Virgil without Patton and/or Logan by his side. Even when he’d gone to help Jeff can some fruit, Logan had reportedly hung around to read a book.

 Considering that Logan had never exactly been clingy even with Patton, she imagined that either Virgil asked, or Logan thought he should stay with him for his comfort. So, she was surprised that he was apparently hidden away somewhere in the castle where neither of the other kids could find him.

Still thinking about this, she walked over to the entrance to the cellar below the kitchen where they stored most of the vegetables, planning to grab some more carrots. She was confused for a moment when she heard movement from deeper in the pantry. She reached over and touched the panel near the door that controlled the magic lights.

 The newly illuminated figure startled as the lights came on, whipping around to stare at her with wide eyes.

“Virgil?” she asked.

“Sorry,” he said immediately, taking a step back.

“It’s fine,” she said immediately, “but what are you doing here?”

He considered her for a long moment, but apparently, she passed some sort of mental test, because he relaxed, at least as much as he’d ever relaxed in her presence. “Where are we?” he asked.

Her brow knit together. “The cellar under the kitchen,” she said, “You don’t know that?”

He shook his head.

“The only entrance is from the kitchen.” Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen him go through the kitchen at any point.

 “No, it’s not,” Virgil said. “There’s a tunnel.”

“A-a tunnel?” she asked. Actually, taking a closer look at him, he seemed a bit grimy. He had dust all over his front and dirt on his nose. She thought he might even have a couple of cobwebs in his hair.

“Yep,” he said.

“Where’s the tunnel?” she asked.

“It’s right over here,” he said. He took a couple of steps and pointed to the ground. There was an open square hole there that clearly had been made a long time ago but which she had never noticed in all of her time working here.

 “How did you find this?” she asked.

“We were playing hide and seek,” Virgil explained. “Logan said I could hide anywhere inside the castle. I hid on top of a dresser upstairs in some unused sitting room. There was a hole in the wall above it, so I climbed into it. Then, I crawled a little bit and it let out into a hidden passage in the walls. I wandered around in it until I found another hole in one of the walls. I thought it was a way out, so I squeezed into it, but it took me to a different hallway where I found an old room. There was a different hole in that room that had probably been covered by something because it was in the floor but whatever it was had rotted away. I crawled though it into a tunnel and came out here.”

 She couldn’t help but laugh a bit at his explanation. “Well, it sounds like you went on an adventure,” she said, “but Patton and Logan have been trying to find you. You missed lunch.”

He tilted his head at her. “I know. I was supposed to hide.”

“Yes,” she explained, “but you are supposed to come out at some point if they can’t find you for things like food.”

“Oh,” he said.

“They probably should have explained,” she said. “For now, why don’t we get you something to eat? You must be hungry.”

Virgil frowned. “But I missed lunch.”

“You can still eat even though it’s not in normal hours,” she said. “You could even if you had made it to lunch.”

 “Really?” he asked, he looked tragically confused by this offer.

“Of course, sweetie,” she said. “In fact, I insist you get something good to eat right now. How about I made you a grilled ham and cheese sandwich? Maybe some cookies too!”

Virgil titled his head. “You are Patton’s mother,” he stated.

Helen laughed softly. “He gets its all from me,” she said. “We should probably go find him and tell him you’re okay. He was worried.”

“I didn’t mean to worry him,” Virgil said with a frown.

“I know,” Helen said. “It’s okay. He’ll probably laugh when he figures out where you’ve been, and Logan will interrogate you all about the secret passageways.” He seemed happy about the prospect of seeing his friends. “Come on, let’s go upstairs for a bit,” she said.

  Chapter 33

Patton’s mom had already made Virgil sit down at the small table in the corner of the kitchen and had handed him a sandwich by the time Patton barreled into the kitchen, Logan coming after him at a more sedate pace.

“Virgil!” he said, sounding surprised and relieved.

“Patton,” Patton’s mom scolded. “No cats in the kitchen.” Patton had brought Marisol in with him and had let her go as soon as he’d seen Virgil. She immediately plodded over to him and hoped onto the table to sniff at his face in greeting.

“But she’s the princess!” Patton argued.

“No,” Logan said.

 “Yes, she is!” Patton said.

“The stupid cat is not a princess.”

“Don’t be mean to your little sister, Logan.”

“I regret every life decision that has led me to this point.”

While Logan and Patton were distracted squabbling and Patton’s mom was distracted watching them squabble, Virgil tore off a bit of the ham in his sandwich and offered it to Marisol. Marisol gracefully took it from his grip and ate it.

“So, this is Logan’s new cat I’ve been hearing about?” Patton’s mom asked.

“Indeed,” Logan said, his lips thinned. He and Marisol were mostly amicable when alone with just them and Virgil, but Patton had a habit of cooing over the kitten and needling Logan into being irritated.

 “Mmm, yeah,” Patton’s mom said. She glanced over at Virgil right as Marisol basically slammed her face into his chin in a bid to get pets. “Your cat.” She shook her head. “But Princess Kitten or not, I do not want fur in dinner,” she said.

“Sorry,” Patton said, honestly not sounding sorry at all. Virgil was always a bit surprised when the insolent shrug garnered nothing more that a scowl that did not reach Patton’s mom’s eyes. “I thought she could help me find Virgil, but you already found him.” He turned to Virgil. “Where have you been all day?”

 “Found a tunnel,” Virgil said. He had to use one hand to hold Marisol back from his sandwich as he took another bite, but then gave her a bite of cheese.

“You found what?” Logan asked.

“There’s a tunnel under the cellar,” Virgil said. “It goes to an old closed up room and also to a set of secret passageways.” It was a bit of a security risk honestly, though clearly no one had used it in years by how dirty it was. He did plan to go back into it and make sure the sprawling tunnels didn’t go to anywhere more dangerous like the royal wing.

 “A closed-up room?” Logan said. He could see a bit of curiosity already building in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “Where the door used to be seemed like it had been bricked over.”

“Really? Can you show me.”

“Sure,” Virgil answered.

“Ah, perhaps we should be a bit more cautious about climbing through random tunnels we don’t know the stability of,” Patton’s mom said.

Logan’s frown edged on a pout.

“Talk to your father,” she said. “I’m sure he can get someone who understands these things so you can safely investigate.”

“It was safe enough for Virgil,” Logan pointed out.

 “No, Logan.”

He sighed but seemed to concede. That was another strange thing about living here. By all rights Logan didn’t have to obey anyone except the king, but he often listened to those around him, not just the adults but Patton as well. It was interesting though it sometimes made the hierarchy hard to figure out. Virgil did sometimes stress out about the hypothetical situation where he got conflicting orders from two people, and he wouldn’t know which one to obey. So far it hadn’t been a problem luckily. They always seemed to work it out amongst themselves in some give and take social interaction that was a bit too complex for him to understand.

 Patton walked over to where Virgil was sitting. “I’m glad your safe,” he said. “We should probably put a time limit on hide and seek in the future, so you know when to come out.”

“Did I win?” Virgil asked. He’d honestly forgotten they’d been playing a game until Patton’s mom had asked how he’d found his way into the cellar.

Patton laughed. “I’d say so, yeah,” he replied. He leaned over to kiss Virgil’s forehead, but drew back immediately with a pinched expression. “You are… very dirty,” he said, rubbing his mouth.

Virgil nodded. “Your mom made me sit on a tablecloth,” he said gesturing to the fabric she’d laid over the chair.

 Patton snorted out a laugh. “We’ll get you into the bath when you’re done eating and you can tell us all about your little adventure.”

“I would also like to hear about your discoveries,” Logan said. “Though you are not allowed to sit on the bed until you do not have spider webs in your hair.”

Patton’s eyes widened and he jumped away from Virgil, startling both Virgil and Marisol. The latter hopped from the table onto Virgil’s lap. “Spiders?!”

Virgil tilted his head at him in confusion.

“He isn’t a fan of spiders,” Logan informed him, his voice amused at Patton’s reaction.

 Apparently deciding that she was no longer startled, but more confused by the noises Patton had just made, Marisol jumped out of Virgil’s lap to investigate, wrapping her way around Patton’s legs. He bent down to pat her back, though he still looked a bit startled.

“Your cat, huh?” Patton’s mom asked Logan once again. Virgil studied her. She had apparently missed Logan mentioning that he allowed Virgil on the bed. Or perhaps Logan was correct in his insistence that it wasn’t actually that big of a deal here. Virgil would rather not test that assumption, however, so was glad that it had been distracted from by Patton’s outburst.

 “Creepy, crawly death dealers,” Patton mumbled into Marisol’s fur, having picked her back up. Virgil made a note to not inform Patton of all of the different types of spiders he’d seen skittering around in the castle walls today. Maybe he’d talk about them with Logan once Patton left. He’d probably be interested. Virgil had seen some he’d never seen before! Logan probably could even help him figure out what their names were. “You’ll protect me, won’t you kitty?” Patton asked Marisol.

She made a little ‘burrrr’ sound in response, which Patton seemed to take a confirmation.

“Aw thank you, baby! Such a good baby.”

50234

Virgil popped the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. Patton’s mom turned away and grabbed a plate stacked with cookies. She handed it to Logan. “Take these, and please get the health hazards out of my kitchen,” she requested.

Logan took them without complaint. “Come on, Virgil,” he said. “Let’s go get you clean.”

“We’re going to need so much soap,” Patton said.

Virgil looked down at himself. “I can go outside and get most of it off if you get me a bucket of water,” he offered.

“Virgil, it’s below freezing,” Logan said as though that had a baring on what he’d just said. Logan sighed. “No. Bathtub.” Virgil shrugged. “Honestly,” Logan said. He turned with the plate of cookies in his hand, clearly expecting to be followed. “You’re not going to catch your death pouring a bucket of water over yourself in the cold when there are literally over a hundred perfectly good bathtubs in this castle. For goodness sakes.” And well, Virgil wasn’t going to complain.

  Chapter 34

Patton, to be completely honest, was not all that interested in the room that Virgil had found. Beyond just the fact that it would definitely have creepy crawly death dealers in it, he really did not understand the intrigue. If it had just been him, he probably would have just let a castle worker deal with it, but it was not just him. Logan was ecstatic with the prospect of investigating a secret in the castle. People who didn’t know him well may not believe it considering he spent most of his time with his nose in a book, but he was an adventurer at heart.

 Thomas had been easily swayed into finding someone to help tear down part of the wall into the secret tunnel near the room (so no one would have to crawl through the kitchen cellar like Virgil). It had taken a few days, however, and Logan was practically bouncing off the walls waiting. Virgil, despite having already seen the room before, also seemed excited, though if that was because of his own curiosity or because he was just excited that Logan seemed so exited remained to be seen.

“They are silly, aren’t they,” Patton asked Princess Marisol. He was laying on his stomach on Logan’s bed and Princess Marisol had just put her little paw on his nose.

 “Yes, I agree,” he said. “Don’t they know that we’re literally going to be 2 feet away from the normal hallway?”

“It is not silly,” Logan defended himself. “Any number of things could go wrong.” He sounded far too excited about the prospect of something going terribly wrong. “The tunnels could cave in and block off the exit or there could be some unknown pathogen in the air.”

Patton did not ruin his fun by mentioning that Logan’s dad had definitely basically baby proofed the tunnels for them ahead of time. Instead, he just said, “Don’t let Virgil hear you say that sort of thing. It will just stress him out.”

 “Yes, yes, of course,” he said, waving off Patton’s concerns as he mulled over two different weird green planty things (potion ingredients, Patton assumed) before setting one aside and sticking the other in his bag.

“So silly,” Patton cooed at the cat. Logan let out a huff but did not choose to say anything about it this time.

Speaking of silly, Virgil came back from Logan’s bathroom then, and Patton tried not to giggle. “Is this right?” Virgil asked, sounding and looking confused. Logan, in his overexcitement about adventure had commissioned Virgil an outfit that actually fit. Said outfit, however, very much made it look more like Virgil was going on a safari instead of a two-foot detour from the normal castle hallway.

 “Almost,” Logan said, “Here, let me.” Logan started straightening everything out and flattening the collar, reminding Patton of an overbearing parent on picture day. Virgil accepted the fussing without protest. It was adorable. Well, the outfit was ridiculous, but still, adorable. “There,” Logan said. “I think we’re ready to go now.”

It was about time. Patton was sure people were already waiting for them downstairs. Patton got up and patted Princess Marisol on the head. She looked up at them with interest.

“You can stay here, sweetie,” Patton told here. She seemed to consider it and then hopped down from the bed to go rub up against Virgil.

 Patton guessed she was coming. It didn’t matter too much since Logan had given her a magical collar that allowed her to open most doors in the castle and everyone knew she was the royal cat now, so if she decided she wanted to come back to the room and nap, she could. (She was very aware of the power she held.)

She pranced happily by Virgil’s side all the way down the steps to the first floor of the castle. She was such a good kitty.

Well, she did hiss angrily at everyone who came too close to them, but still, a very good kitty.

 Patton did lean down and pick her up so they could actually talk to the man waiting for them at the large hole in the wall. Logan went to talk to the castle worker while Virgil half hid behind Patton. He was clearly listening very intently to the conversation however, at least more intently than Patton was. Patton was busy shaking his head fondly.

“Yes, yes, Princess,” he said to the cat. “I know we do not trust the strangers, but I promise this stranger is perfectly safe.”

“How do you know?” Virgil asked.

“His name is Chester and I’ve known him since I was 9.”

#proofread stories #not writing

[radishaur]

69, 60, 52, and 41 for Zuko on making a reader swoon? Sorry I can't help myself 😍

Here you go! I hope you like this. I didn’t know how you wanted me to take this, so I hope this is what you’re looking for! :) For those who haven’t read the prompt list, here are the prompts requested. #41 is “I know you haven’t done anything, but can you please stop looking so goddamn kissable, my parents are here”, #52 is “If only you could see yourself the way I see you, because, holy shit, you’d realise how much I’ve fallen for you”, #60 is “I’m so madly and deeply in love with you, please meet me so we can discuss this”, and #69 is “I’ve fallen for you and it’s becoming difficult for me to get anything done”.

- Zoe

•••

Fallen For You (Zuko x Reader)

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff

Part: 1/1

Summary: See request.

“Fire Lord Zuko,” one of the servants said, bowing respectfully, “Y/N is here to see you.”

I nodded in response and told them to send them in. I hadn’t seen them in almost a week. She had been meeting with Katara in the South Pole to help her with some political matter. A familiar knock on the door brought me out of my thoughts.

“Come in,” I said, sitting up in my chair.

“Hello, baby,” she greeted, walking into the room.

I stood up and walked around the desk to pull her into a huge hug. Her body wrapped around mine and I felt at home. I nuzzled my head into her neck and pressed a few kisses into it.

“I missed you,” I said, giving her another kiss before pulling away slightly.

“I missed you too,” she said, pressing a firm kiss to my lips before looking at my desk and asking, “What are you working on?”

“Oh, just signing some paperwork,” I shrugged, sitting down once more in my chair.

“It looks exactly the same as when I left. Did you even get anything done?” she teased, leaning against the desk casually.

“What can I say? I’ve fallen for you and it’s becoming difficult for me to get anything done,” I admitted, shooting her an innocent smile.

She smacked me on the arm playfully before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss onto my forehead. I hummed pleasantly and watched her and she began leaving.

“Don’t forget that you invited my parents to come to the palace this week. They’re looking forward to meeting you,” she reminded me as she paused in the doorway.

“I remember,” I assured her, a nervous smile making its way onto my face.

She blew me a kiss that I pretended to catch before giggling and leaving. I sighed happily before returning to my paperwork. If I was going to be a good host, I would need to get this all done.

The job of the Fire Lord is never finished.

I worked for the next few hours before I was finally allowed to retire for the night. It was late and all I wanted to do was crawl into bed. I closed the door to my room and smiled to see Y/N waiting for me in bed. She was reading a book under the covers before I entered. She smiled happily when she saw me.

“Busy day?” she asked, looking me up and down.

“As always,” I hummed in response.

I told her all about my day as I got ready for bed and by the time I crawled under the covers beside her, I was exhausted. I laid my head on her chest as she began playing with my hair.

“Well, I know it’s exhausting work, but I hope you know that it’s doing a lot of good. People are really beginning to look up to you,” she said as she ran her nails across my scalp.

“Agni knows why,” I mumbled under my breath.

“Oh hush. You’re as good a person as anyone to look up to,” she scolded me.

“I disagree. I mean, I’ve made so many mistakes. I fail all the time. I still don’t even know how I haven’t been forcefully removed from the throne yet,” I huffed.

“Zuko, you’re amazing. If only you could see yourself the way I see you, because, holy shit, you’d realise how much I’ve fallen for you. And more importantly why. You do so much good for the world. And sure, you’ve made mistakes, but if anything that just makes you an even better person to look up to. You show people that it’s never too late to put in the effort to fix their mistakes. You’re someone people can be proud of,” she said, forcing me to look up at her before kissing me softly and adding quietly, “I’m proud of you.”

I smiled gratefully at her. I pulled her closer to me and nuzzled my head into her neck.

“How is it you always know what to say to make me feel better,” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Because I know you,” she answered before resuming the idle scalp massage she had been giving me before.

It didn’t take long for either of us to fall asleep. When I woke up, the sun was just rising and Y/N was still fast asleep underneath me. I kissed her forehead and let her sleep for a while longer before waking her up. After all, her parents were to be arriving soon.

She complained at first, but after some apology kisses and cuddles, she finally got up and got dressed. I was nervous to meet her parents, but she assured me that we would get along well. Currently, I was showing them around the palace with Y/N on my arm. They were incredibly nice people and, just like Y/N said, we did get along very well.

“Oh, this here is the palace garden!” she exclaimed, pointing out at the open courtyard.

“Oh my, that’s beautiful,” her mom said.

I smiled at their enthusiasm. Her father was looking fondly at her mom as she began pointing out various things in the garden.

“Why don’t we take a break. We can all relax by the pond for a while,” I suggested.

“That sounds lovely,” Y/N said before leading her parents over to the pond.

Eventually, I was sitting down with Y/N by the side of the pond as her parents wandered around the courtyard for a while. Apparently her mother loved nature and was immediately engrossed in exploring every nook and cranny of it. Her father had agreed, seemingly just to watch her get all excited.

I smiled as I watched the turtle ducks swimming around in the pond. They were paddling around without a care in the world. Sometimes I envied them.

“I know you haven’t done anything, but can you please stop looking so goddamn kissable, my parents are here,” Y/N said while watching me and adding in a teasing tone, “I don’t know how my parents would feel if they came back and saw us making out.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. I pulled her closer to me and kissed her. She smiled against my lips before nuzzling against me and staring out at the pond.

“They really like you,” she said without looking at me.

“You think so?” I asked, still somewhat unsure if they were being genuine or just polite.

“Absolutely. Trust me, I can tell,” she assured me.

After a few more minutes, I was pulled away by an emergency situation and apologized profusely about having to cut the tour shut. I promised to join them for dinner before leaving to go deal with the situation. It felt like it took all day to finally solve the problem, but I was glad to find out that I still had time to make it to dinner.

I made sure I looked presentable before walking into the dining hall where Y/N and her parents were. They all greeted me with a smile and I kissed Y/N on the forehead lightly before sitting down for dinner. The food was delicious and our conversation flowed quite easily.

“So, how did you and my daughter end up getting together?” her father asked me.

“Well sir, after I became Fire Lord and Y/N started helping Katara rebuild the South Pole I realized I wanted to be with her, so I sent her a letter asking her to meet me so we could talk,” I explained, smiling over at her as she ate.

“Actually I believe you said ‘I’m so madly and deeply in love with you, please meet me so we can discuss this’ but whose checking,” she joked, repeating the words I had written down in the letter almost a year ago.

“How do you remember the exact words I said?” I asked in disbelief and slight embarrassment.

“I probably read them about a hundred times. Plus, I kept the letter so I could read it every once in a while,” she admitted, a sheepish smile on her face.

“Ah, young love,” her father teased before kissing his wife lovingly.

The rest of the night was filled with pleasant conversation until dessert came around. My nerves were beginning to grow as the time came closer and closer for me to exact my plan.

“Honey, why don’t you go see what’s taking the kitchen so long with dessert. Maybe they need some help,” I suggested.

She gave me a weird look before agreeing and leaving the room to go check on the kitchen. I turned to face her parents and smiled hesitantly. I couldn’t back out now.

“I have to admit, there was an ulterior motive on my part for inviting you. I didn’t just want to meet you,” I explained, clearing my throat a few times before looking between the two of them, “I also wanted to ask for your permission to marry Y/N.”

Her mother gasped in surprise and her father smiled and let out a hearty laugh.

“I’ve seen how happy you make my little girl and I’ve seen how much you care for her. It would be my honor to see her marry you,” he said.

I couldn’t stop the smile of relief that broke out on my face. I hurriedly told them the plan I had for when I was going to propose and they listened eagerly. I had just finished telling them the plan when Y/N walked back in with dessert.

“I just decided to bring it myself since I was coming back here anyways,” she said before setting down the plates of pie.

Dinner was over not long after that and I was shifting nervously in my seat. Y/N’s parents said goodnight, sending me a knowing smile before leaving. I rubbed my neck nervously.

“I think that went well,” she said, placing her hand on my leg and giving it an assuring squeeze, “You don’t have to be so nervous.”

“Right,” I said, grateful that she thought my nervousness was because of her parents.

She smiled at me and gave me another kiss. God I loved her kisses. And I looked forward to kissing her a million more times. She truly was my whole world.

“Would you like to go on a walk with me?” I asked.

“I would love to,” she replied, standing up and letting me take her arm in mine.

We began the short walk out to the gardens and my nerves were beginning to grow uncontrollably. However, I also felt this huge warm glow growing in my chest. The overwhelming sense of love and happiness I felt imagining our lives together was strong enough to overpower my nerves.

When we reached the middle of the garden, I slipped my arm out from her and grabbed the ring I had out of my pocket. I slowly got down on one knee as she turned around to see what I was doing. Her question stopped almost immediately and she began to hold back tears.

“Y/N, you make me the happiest man in the entire world. I can’t even begin to imagine a life without you,” I began, forcing my voice to remain steady, “I got your parents blessing at dinner tonight and I would love nothing more than to make you mine for the rest of my life. Y/N L/N, will you do me the honor of becoming my Fire Lady?”

“Of course I will! Yes, yes, yes. A million times yes,” she cried out, wiping the tears away from her cheeks.

I let out a happy laugh that mixed with tears and slipped the ring onto her finger before kissing her passionately.

I couldn’t wait for us to spend the rest of our lives together.

#zuko #fire lord zuko #prince zuko fanfic #prince zuko fanfiction #prince zuko fic #prince zuko #zuko x reader #zuko imagine

[magnesiaandlemonjuice]

Monday 18 December 1826

6 35/60

11 1/2

In my room at 7 35/60 - at my desk at 7 40/60 - read over what I wrote to IN [Isabella Norcliffe] Friday and Saturday and was just beginning to write when the washerwoman came - settling with her and 1 thing or other took me till after 9 - unaccurately paid her 0/50 too much - some alteration made in George’s bill, so took the people’s adding up which on examination I found was 6 sols too much, and hastily seeing that I had charged (and the charge was not altered) only 12 sols instead of 16 in my bill for 4 chemises gave the woman 4 sols in addition and thus paid her 10 sols too much - I have seldom paid the washing right of late - ‘tis odd enough - I will try to manage better in future - At first on coming here, I could seldom make out my money right to a few sols - I have now got the better of this, and perhaps I shall pay the washerwoman right by and by - From 9 1/4 to 10 1/4 wrote the latter 3rd part of page 3 of my letter to IN [Isabella Norcliffe] very small and close - then read for 1/4 hour the supplement that came yesterday to Galignani of Saturday - breakfast at 10 1/2 - read the French news and advertisements of this morning - concluded what I wrote to IN [Isabella Norcliffe] on Saturday - with

‘the inconvenience occasioned me by our carriage was serious on the journey; but we have got the bushes of the wheels repaired, and shall be thoroughly prepared before we start again - we are effective for a drive to the Bois de Boulogne, and want no more at present - Monday morning 18 December what will become of us by and by, is not quite certain - I do not think Travelling suits my aunt, - I mean agrees with her complaints, tho’ she likes it, and would evidently like the thought of our going somewhere else - I shall see how she is in the spring - At this moment I know not what to say of her - If she is not better than now, I must give up dwelling up the hope of seeing you - Her nerves are too weak - she could not bear us in the room; nor could she bear the very little additional to do in the apartment that we must make - we often talk of you - she bids me give her kindest love, and say, she hopes to be better, and then she shall be delighted to see you - yet she sometimes speaks of never seeing my father and Marian, or Shibden again, and says, she will be buried here - She always much admired Père Lachaise, adding ‘How little I used to think I should come to be buried here!’ Perfect quiet seems to agree with her best - my entering at all into society, is perfectly out of the question - I have refused even one evening to Mademoiselle de Sans that was, and only see her, and Mrs Barlow, and the de Noés very occasionally in a morning - some time ago, I fancied I might manage having a little society - I now see it does not [?], and I have entirely abandoned all hope or thought of it - I never in my life associated so little - Doctor Thackeray told me, my aunt had probably a great deal to suffer - I often think of this - She cannot move herself in bed - her nerves are very weak - yet, withal, she has been a little better lately (we have had such mild beautiful weather - not a single flake of snow has fallen), and talked yesterday of going to Shibden for a summer 2 or 3 years hence! Of course, I say nothing against all this, knowing that she is too nervous to bear the despair of those around her - But her bowels have been better of late; and this is a great thing - we shall certainly change our apartment as soon as we can after the expiration of our term here (on the 7th of March) - the kitchen being 2 stories above us, and the servants unable to hear the bell, we find insufferable - Not having brought plates with us, we are supplied by the porter - Our quota of tablespoons was six, all which were stolen on Thursday morning’ -

At about 11 at my desk again wrote the last 25 lines in 1/2 hour - then sat down to finish my letter - MacDonald soon afterwards came in and wanted brown sugar - asked her to get the scales and weigh it - saw her put weight after weight into the scale - found she held the balance in such sort that it could not play - thought she did not seem to quite know what she was about - Told her she always she appeared in such a hurry and so confused it was impossible to depend upon her for doing a thing - she said she had by mistake sent all her mistress’s things to the wash she meant to have washed at home - it was very unlucky - and she looked as if not hers - on this I told her she ought not to call it unlucky - it was not bad luck but bad management. She has no good method and for want of this committed all her blunders - repeated several times I was not angry, not scolding her - not did I blame but pity her for what I supposed she could not help - it was absolutely calamitous that she was so little able to take care of things - I could not wonder at Miss Reed’s letter saying she had found things so out of order MacDonald said the castle was very damp - she had left all well done - could not tell what Miss Reed meant - it must be that the linen was not well aired - she had spoken to Miss Reed’s father - was desired to give the linen to a head man of some sort in the service and he was the worst that could be - I then mentioned the petticoat the other that she declared was not among my aunt’s things and it was found there - no! it was found among her own things and she never thought of looking there - I then to instance the foolish things she sometimes did, mentioned the rice pudding of Saturday that she told my aunt she had spoilt by fearing it would not turn out and so, after creaming the rice, she had dried it again - she wondered how her mistress could say this - it was not so - it was …. I said I cared not about the puddings - had no time to listen about them - her mistress might be mistaken, but that I told MacDonald all this for her good who always seemed to me to have no presence of mind - to be as if she knew not what she was about - at Shibden when she took a pint of our strong beer every day between dinner and tea (about 5 p.m.) it might have been better accounted for; so much would have put me under the table - she declared she did not - I said I had met Mrs Cordingley one afternoon with the mug, and inquired, and she told me she MacDonald had had it full every afternoon since she (MacDonald came that Cordingley had told her such was against the rules of the house - such a thing never done before - MacDonald declared she could never do such a thing - then said she had not had it every day after prevaricating some time upon whether the vessel was a mug or a glass or how large or how small I said long as I had known Mrs Cordingley I had never known her guilty of falsehood and I should certainly believe what she said - MacDonald declared she had never asked for beer, but Mrs Cordingley had given it her, and she thought it was very odd and very foolish in her to do so - and pray said I were you not foolish then to take it? she thought it was very odd that Mrs Cordingley should make mischief - had thought it very odd that so respectable a person as Mrs Cordingley should one day when she asked her how I liked to have my things packed - very odd that she should (I wondered in myself what was coming) say…. I liked them folded tight! why should I, and so I do - Mrs Cordingley was right - MacDonald had intended to prove that Cordingley told a falsity in making me understand that Cordingley had said I liked things bundled up as MacDonald had bundled up hers - In fact, the woman was at a loss for some accusation against Cordingley. I told her it was in vain to accuse Cordingley of falsehood or anything else and I should not forget all this. Cordingley had no interest in saying she, MacDonald, had had the beer every day if it was not so - yet what MacDonald said of it herself only made a bad worse, and the less she said the better and I bade her leave the room - I am now persuaded MacDonald does not stick to truth and I really begin to suspect she will drink too when she can - I never liked her - now I have no confidence in her - the taking the ale staggered me at first, now what she said of it staggers me still more - Told her I had not mentioned either this or Miss Reed’s letter to my aunt - Did my aunt know of these 2 things I believe she could not endure the woman, for she too, has never liked her - having written one end to IN [Isabella Norcliffe] - hastily concluded on the other and sent of my letter to the [?] post at 12 1/2 to ‘Miss Norcliffe, to the care of Mr Fisher, Petergate, York, Angleterre’ - and then went to bed room (expecting Madame Galvani every minute) to finish dressing - I have been thus particular about MacDonald that when this subject comes on the tapis again (for it will one of these days before we get rid of her) I have this journal to refer to -

for the same reason I have copied all I wrote to tib about her not coming to see us here -

Madame Galvani came at 12 3/4 just as I had done my hair - left her till I had finished dressing - she stayed till 2 3/4 - conversation as usual - Told her I was so much occupied I would rather she only came once a week till I had more leisure - after Madame Galvani went came to speak to my aunt about something - mentioned having had a long conversation about MacDonald’s carelessness (but neither named Miss Reed’s letter nor the beer - went out at 3 35/60 - to Michel’s - ate a mince-pie by way of tasting what sort of things they were (very good) ordered 4 for Xmas Day, 2 three lb. very rich plum cakes meaning to send one of them to Madame Galvani it dampened a little - returned home for my umbrella - then took 2 turns quick round the gardens in 3/4 hour and came in at 4 3/4 - settled my accounts - George brought in the beef he bought this morning to weigh it - to my surprise instead of 7 3/4 lbs it was 2 oz. less than this - I will have every thing I buy weighed - Dinner at 6 5/60 - Left the dining room at 7 50/60 just before dinner wrote from line 12 to 33 of the last page, and just after wrote from line 33 to here -

in speaking to my aunt before going out mentioned getting rid of mcd [MacDonald] and taking Mrs Potter who is going to leave Mrs Barlow on trial -

the mince pie very heavy on my stomach just before dinner - at dinner took a little pepper - perhaps the weight of a grain or 2 which I think did me good - writing to here, and the rough draft of the index took me till 9 1/4 - from then for 1/2 hour sat talking to my aunt - then till 10 1/4 finished reading the whole of the yesterday’s supplement to Saturday’s paper - Mr Brougham’s speech in support of ministers sending troops to Portugal very good - very fine frosty morning and fine till after Madame Galvani went at 2 3/4 - about 3 came in rather hazy and at 3 35/60 when I went out was just began to damp or small rain a little which continued all the time I was out tho’ not enough to wet my umbrella - came to my room at 10 1/4. O [two dots, marking discharge] - wrote the last 4 lines -

[Margin] very fine frosty morning the street dry F371/2 at 1 40/60 a.m. 36 - 4p.m. 35 - 10 1/4 -

SH:7/ML/E/10/0031 & SH:7/ML/E/10/0032

#December1826 #AnneLister #GentlemanJack #AnneListerCodeBreaker

[wasalwaysagreatpickle]

Friday 29 May 1829

6 35/60

11

Tho I had done the copy of a note to Miss Hobart last night not satisfied with it made considerable alterations all which and writing the note and dressing took me till ten and ten minutes 

Breakfast at 10 10/60 and at that hour sent off George with note to ‘Miss Hobart’ 2pp. 1/2 sheet note ‘Dear Miss Hobart if there be no letter for me, and you have one, do tell me your news – ‘you had a fine day yesterday for Vesailles, and I hope it sent away the gruffness in your throat – when I mentioned Friday (today) for the jardin du roi, it did not, at the moment, occur to me, it was a public day – the 3 private days are Monday Thursday and Saturday M. Desfontaines, who is the present director général is always engaged on Monday, but will accompany us at any hour on any Thursday or Saturday through the serres which, being under his immediate superintendence, he is the very person to shew – as for the galerie d’histoire naturelle, the hours are from 11 to 3, but supposing us to be there before 3, it would be kept open for us till 4 – M. Cuvier’s department is the comparative anatomy – I know he has no time to spare but on Sundays, and, even then, his shewing the lions of the gallery would be a favour; and sunday is the worst of public days – M. Desfontaines will take care to have someone ready to shew us everything that is most interesting; and in this case, we shall not want M. de Noé – abridgement which is a capital book of the kind, turning to Mozerai when you wish to be more largely informed upon any particular subject? But except the reign of Charlemagne, and perhaps, that of his father Pepin, Lord Mansfield would have said, you need not trouble yourself to go beyond Henault till you come to the reign of Louis II, in 1461. Have you read Sully’s memoirs? there is a nice little work on universal history by Zoph, published here some time ago, that you might like – very truly yours AL – 

It seems from your note, Lady Stuart de R- Rothesay will go – if she would like to have Cuvier in the museum, he will, of course, do anything he can for madame l’ambassadrice’ – George brought a kind little note from Miss Hobart in answer to the above and a letter 1/2 sheet from Miss Maclean dated ‘Richmond hill May 24’ from her friends the ‘Skinners’ ‘ I have not time nor strength at present to say much to assure your affectionate heart that I am better daily – since I came here - you will have been in despair at the idea of my having taken possession of Mr Long’s bedroom ‘the Crosbies did not go – this deranged all, and she went to the Skinners’ – much too weak to go to Hampshire now – will go the moment she gains strength ‘have sent for jessy as I can do nothing for myself and am going to take a lodging at the top of Hampstead – for fresh air – I am now eating plentifully, my cough and expectoration better’ –

She received my letter by the post, but not the one I sent the day before by the ambassador’s bag – Miss Hobart writes ‘you will see how it is. Sibbella writes to me rather a favourable account of her progress though I see she has thought herself dying, poor darling – I trust she may yet be spared to us’ – thanks for the trouble I have taken about the history of France and the jardin du roi – old Lady Stuart to sail from London on Sunday and expected here on Thursday so will put off going to the jardin till she can go with them ‘I am sorry she cannot have a letter from me, for I would insist on her insisting on Sibbella going to the Lodge, I am sure she would be comfortable there and at much less expense but I must wait now till I see aunt Stuart …… 

Ever yours in fact a friendly note I think she likes me. I cannot quite make out the depth of her feeling for Miss Maclean, she does not write or seem as if it would break her heart if anything happened to Miss Maclean. Somehow I think Miss Hobart rather flippant but perhaps she likes me I was saying on Monday ‘oh I did not mean that’ she answered you looked as if you did and you never look without meaning something. She took my arm a little on Monday she always declined it before and I made her lean as heavily as she could yet still if I could have her she would not suit me could not introduce me? has not money enough – 

Letter 3pp. and part of one end from M- [Mariana] (Lawton) dated May 11, 15 and 22 – very good accounts of Mr Charles Lawton. It seems Lord Crewe was buried on Friday the 8th instant his left £25000 to each of his grand daughters and £7000 a year to his grandson, Hungerford Crewe, on attaining the age of 24 – the income in the mean while to pay off a mortgage – nothing left to the son general Crewe but the person who lent him money being a defaulter to government, government takes possession of Crewe hall etc. the plate furniture and linen left as it stands for the use of the occupant of the house which may perhaps secure a good tenant – Mr Kennersley married Tuesday 19th instant to a niece of lady Warburtons – the sisters of Mr Kinnersley to remain with them – shall Mariana call or not? optional – Do as the wilbrahams have done? – 

Took George and off in a fiacre at 11 1/4 – got to the jardin du roi in 1/2 hour – the lecture began exactly at 12 and lasted exactly an hour – chiefly insisted upon the difference between mammifères and birds consisting in the difference of their circulation of blood – vide Règne animal (Paris 1817) volume 1 page 288 and 291 the systems being different according to the different media to be breathed air or water – should have been home in an hour, but turned along the rue de Suresne etc. looking for apartments and did not get home till 4 – no. 23 bis rue de suresne at 1600 per annum a nice little 2nde but without coach house and stable – the furnished apartment recommended by Mrs Barlow, 22 rue d’aguesseau, could not see again at the moment a small carrelé apartment au 2nde 45 rue d’anjou might suit such a person as Mrs McK- the salon looking onto a pretty little garden – might be 3 bedrooms, and might be very snug – b[u]t a premier 24 steps high rue neuve des Mathurins 41 looking int[o] a handsome court with good air and the Madeleine church at a little distance at the back, coach house and stable 3 bedrooms and a room for [?] and kitchen on the same floor at 2200 francs a year including all expenses of taxes porter and eclairage paid by the proprietor (and might get it perhaps for less, for 2000/.) seemed the very thing to suit us – but the house new (they said 6 years old) and little doors – had seen several other apartments not worth notice – 

Mrs Barlow came soon after I got home and stayed a couple of hours, till after 6 at which hour dinner came to my room at 8 – wrote out journal of yesterday all but 1/2 hours writing done after 10 p.m. on coming to my room – coffee at 9 1/4 – Note from Madame de Rosny – ‘je pars ma chère dame dimanche à 8 heures pour le château de mon beau frère il me sera impossible d’aller vous voir je serai dans les horreurs des arrangemens vous la journée toute à vous [Cesse] De Rosny Vendredi soir’ – very fine day –

#anne lister #maria barlow #1829 #paris #anne lister code breaker

[rogerblackwolf]

The Jungle Dragon

-Year 1967-

The alarm rung loudly as the clock reached the morning hour, it's ringing silenced when the one sleeping slammed his hand on it followed by a tired groan. The man laid on his back looking at the ceiling, his eyes adjusting to the low morning rays piercing through the crack between the curtains. The next thing he saw was the face of his wife who was asleep next to him, her face towards him as she laid on her side. Gently he brushed her hair from her face enjoying how beautiful she is, finally she stirred opening her eyes a bit and smiling at his touch.

"Morning." She said quietly.

"Morning hon." He responded before gently kissing her.

"We should get up. Can't waste the day after all." She said as she sat up in the bed, slipping out from under the covers to don her robe.

"You're right I guess." The man responded as he sat up and rubbed his eyes before getting up. The couple went about their morning routine as was normal; the wife began cooking their breakfast as her husband went outside to fetch the paper and take in the sight of their suburban neighborhood. He waved to a couple of his neighbors as they passed by before he returned inside to the smell of bacon and toast. He turned on the radio, tuning it to the station they enjoyed before getting a cup of coffee and sitting down at the table. He unrolled the paper and browsed through the many stories, there had been a few focused on riots in cities about the ongoing war in Vietnam, as well as other issues.

"Anything new in the paper, dear?" His wife asked as she fixed two plates of pancakes, bacon, and buttered toast along with her morning tea.

"Not in particular." He said sitting the paper to the side to dig in. As he did he couldn't help but look at his wife from across the table. She was Korean with shoulder length dark brown hair, her eyes were a dull grey, and her body was slender with some defining curves. Her name was Su Yoon, they had met at an Army hospital in Seoul where he had been treated for shrapnel to his left leg and minor frostbite in his fingers. Seeing her face was the one thing that made the stay bearable and her agreeing to marry him was the single greatest day of his life, one of very few.

"Daniel, is something wrong?" Su asks noticing his stare.

"Hmm? Oh no I'm fine." Daniel responded before returning to eating. She continued to watch him for a moment before he spoke again.

"I was thinking we could go to the park, maybe have a picnic."

"I would like that. The garden's flowers will be in full bloom." She said.

"I remembered you do enjoy the sight." He added as he cracked a smile.

They soon wrapped up breakfast and finished getting dressed when a knock at the door caught Daniel's attention. He went towards it, noticing a black four door sedan park in front, once opening the door he was met with two men dressed in black suits. The two also wore black aviator style sunglasses with reflective black lens.

"Daniel Braxton?" One asked

"Can I help you gentlemen?" Daniel responded

"Yes, sir you can. We need to bring you in. Your expertise is needed." The second man said

It was then the two men showed their badges, to the untrained eye they looked like official CIA Agent IDs. But he knew that they weren't from the CIA.

"Give me a minute." Daniel said before closing the door and checking on his wife. Without saying a word she knew what he was about to do as he got his coat and gave her a kiss goodbye before leaving.

A couple hours afterwards they arrived at a private airfield, where he was then escorted to a waiting SH-3 helicopter, also known as a Sea King. Once he was seated and strapped in he definitely was out of his element, the occasional shaking made him nervous but he put it out of his mind as they neared their destination. Daniel looked out of the window next to his seat and immediately noticed the shape of the building, the Pentagon. Daniel was escorted off the helicopter and into another motorcade, where he met a familiar face. He was an older man around the age of 60 and dressed in a black suit.

"Director Webber, pleasure to meet you again." Daniel said as they shook hands.

"Pleasure's all mine Agent Braxton." He replied.

The motorcade then drove into a secure parking structure, from there the Director escorted him into the Pentagon through several checkpoints before finally arriving in a secure room with the director and another person who was watching several closed circuit televisions. When the man turned around, Daniel immediately stood at attention, for he was in the presence of the President of the United States Lyndon B. Johnson.

"At ease son, there is little time for that now." He said taking a seat at the head of the table.

"It's an honor Mr. President." Daniel said as he took his seat.

"So you're probably wondering why you're here. The answer is we need someone of your particular expertise. Show him." President Johnson said to the general closest to him.

"This radio transmission was isolated from last night by our technicians in Saigon. At 0400 hours a patrol of 15 men from Whiskey Company engaged with what they believed to be NVA soldiers at this position here 20 miles northwest of their Firebase." Webber said revealing a recording device and a tactical map of South Vietnam along with troop movements from various units. He then played the recording, the first sound Daniel could identify readily was the sound of gunfire followed by orders to pull back. What he didn't expect was the sound of trees being crushed and something large letting out a hissing roar before it cuts out to static.

"Two patrols went out at approximately 0600 hours to investigate the site only to find that no bodies were left. Just the weapons and the equipment like the radio and backpacks were recovered." Webber adds

"And why was I selected?" Daniel asked

"The attack happened close to another Firebase that is controlled by our allies, the Republic of Korea's Tiger Division. They have expressed some concern of this thing because not a week earlier their firebase suffered a loss of 7 men from whatever it is. We know you speak Korean, and Tiger Division wants to volunteer six of it's best to your hunt." Director Webber says

"When do I begin?" Daniel asks

"Immediately. The Bureau said you were the best they had. Mr. Braxton...Get it done." President Johnson said.

Braxton nodded before the meeting adjourned and Director Webber escorted Braxton to the bowels of the Pentagon where he met another man, roughly in his late 20s or early 30s and wearing a blue shirt with light colored dress pants.

"Braxton this is one of our researchers, he's going with you to help on your hunt." Webber said.

"Colin Wyman, pleasure sir." Colin said extending his hand.

"Likewise. Can you use a gun?" Daniel asked him.

"Yes I've been trained." Colin said.

"Then stay close." Daniel responded.

Director Webber led the two men to an armory where some rifles were being loaded into weapon crates. He'd noticed the rifles a few times when he was on base in Virginia, it was called the M16 but it seemed different from the ones he'd seen before.

"Mr. Mason, ensure these two men are geared up and ready. They ship out at 0300. Good luck Agents, may your hunt be a success." Director Webber said before leaving. Mason shows them to the armory and told them to get what they needed.

Daniel browsed over the new M16 rifles before holding one in his hand, it was lighter than the M1 Garand he was issued in the Marines.

"That's the new XM16E1, or M16 if you prefer, don't let its lightweight design fool ya this puppy is due to replace the M14 pretty soon. It's got a forward assist and a twenty round magazine, it's also chambered in the new 5.56 round. More control and accuracy due to less recoil." Mason explained.

"Impressive. I'll take the M14, the 1911A1, and this knife." Daniel said taking a kabar knife whilst putting the M16 back on it's rack. Colin settled for a 12 gauge shotgun, an Ithaca Model 37, and grabbed his satchel of scientific gear. Finally the two men were suited up for the jungles of Vietnam. After several grueling flights the duo arrive at their destination the next morning, meeting their contact who takes them to the Firebase. Here they met with the Korean volunteers, six men who had been trained by hardened vets of the Korean War. Daniel briefs the men with help from Colin whilst also ensuring they get to know their new M16 rifles. Once everyone was brought up to speed, the team boarded a Huey and took to the sky. Once they were high enough Colin took out a device resembling a geiger counter. He waved it side to side as they flew, when the device started beeping everyone looked at Colin as the pilot flew towards the signal's origin. The signal held steady as Daniel spotted a open field for them to land. Once the landing zone had been secured the team ventured into the jungle whilst keeping an eye out for any NVA Forces, who had been active in the region for some time. Daniel had two men take point whilst he protected Colin, the remaining four kept their eyes and ears open to any sign, anything that shouldn't be there. One of the pointmen crouched down slowly finding a speck of blood Daniel noticed as well as he scanned the area, the group carefully steps into the foliage finding scattered AK-47s, a few mutilated corpses, and even a pair of legs under a toppled tree with no torso, Colin resisted gagging.

"These are NVA." Daniel says

"A patrol?" Colin asks

"No, too many weapons, more like a whole platoon." Daniel said seeing the blood is still fresh so their quarry was nearby. As they investigate the site Colin photographs a set of tracks whilst also trying his device, Daniel tapped his shoulder making him see a clear trail of crushed foliage and several toppled trees. Daniel had him stay close as the group followed the trail, reaching a low river splitting the jungle, Daniel crouched next to one of several big boulders. Colin heard his device as the beeping intensified to a long tone, Daniel and the others already saw the source.

Easily 45 ft long from nose to tail covered in a spiky leathery skin, a pair of horns extended from the back of it's head and it's orange eyes stared at the group as it stood in the sunlight. One flick of its tongue made it reveal it's row of meat hook like teeth, it looked like a dragon with its front legs propped on a log, the claws digging into the bark. Daniel noticed the twinges of fear in the young men, looks he had seen many times before.

Without warning the beast charged with lightning speed, everyone only managed to get a burst of fire from their rifles as it slammed right in the middle of them. Somehow it missed the group and Colin rolled out from under it whilst firing his shotgun into it's belly. The beast let out a screech of pain as it swiped and bit wildly as it was set upon by the soldiers. One of the team even managed to stab the beast with his knife, the small blade stabbing deep into the underside of the leg. The beast let out another screech as it retaliated with a swipe of it's clawed feet sending blood and body flying into a tree.

Daniel fired his M14 taking out an eye, which made him it's new focus. The beast turned and charged Daniel with it's mouth open, at the last second Daniel dodged making the beast slam its head against a boulder with such a crack he was surprised it was only stunned. He quickly drew his kabar knife throwing his body into the neck of the beast, his knife stabbing and slicing a gaping wound that poured blood all over the surrounding area. The injury sent the beast thrashing in pain before it finally collapsed in a heap, Colin was in awe that it was still breathing albeit with great effort. Braxton pulled his 1911A1 from his holster, emptying his magazine into the beast's head.

The team then tended to their wounded man, whose injuries were shallow and a bad concussion to top it off, Daniel knew he'd survive which gave him some relief. Once Daniel made sure his team was all good and Colin had the photos along with some samples, they followed protocol by destroying the beast with thermate grenades. Colin noticed a few of the men talking among themselves and a couple in particular were animated in their gestures.

"What're they saying?" He asked Daniel.

"They can't believe what just happened." He replied.

Colin had similar thoughts but he knew that for other Agents this was just another day, if they came back.

Daniel radioed an extraction which arrived once they made it back to the field. The trip back to the Firebase felt shorter somehow but he didn't mind, once they arrived Daniel and Colin had received thanks from the Base commander for avenging their fallen. The duo were then taken back to the airport where they took several more flights back to D.C. and delivered their report personally to Director Webber and President Johnson.

Colin and Daniel then got back into civilian clothes before they finally parted ways

"If you're ever in Virginia, my door is open, me and my wife will receive you gladly." Daniel said to Colin.

"I just might do that. See you around Braxton." Colin said before leaving him to be escorted to his transport home.

When Daniel finally arrived home it was late at night, but his house's light was still on. He took a breath before entering, and is surprised by his wife waiting for him.

"Welcome home dear." She said with a smile.

Daniel couldn't help but return the smile before embracing her. The couple then went straight to bed as both were glad that Daniel was finally home again.

#BSRC #Story 3

[babysackville]

Tuesday 5th August 1828

8

11

Bit last night by b-[bugs] yet slept well goodish motion after none yesterday obliged to mend my black petticoat a little - Down stairs to breakfast at 10 - breakfast in about ½ hour till 10 ¾ from about 10 ¾ to 1 ¾ wrote out the journal of yesterday - from 1 ¾ to 2 35/60 wrote out itinerary of yesterday and settled my accounts - great deal of rain fell during last night and early this morning - perpetual showers all the day - very heavy showers from 2 20/60 for ¼ hour - cleaned my [tables] went out at 3 ¼ - to the cathedral, close here - in castle street - afternoon service just began - never heard anyone read in so hurried and careless a manner and so ill as the senior minor-canon - only ½ the service chaunted - the minor-canons cannot chaunt the 4th and 5th verse of the 4th or 5th psalm sung as an anthem - very short - good organ - built 14 or 15 years ago - 1 of the boys has a good voice the service over at 4 40/60 - 

Saw the cathedral - of the abbey and cloisters merely a few arches and bits of walls remaining walled up in the gardens or into the houses of the prebendaries along the other side of the cathedral - the ground here raised several feet - this part still called the abbey - entered by a castle like private gate opening into abbey street and shut by the deans and prebendaries at night - a prebend worth about £500 a year and deanery worth about £1000 a year - the deanery house an old battlemented goodish house but archdeacon Paley’s an old small indifferent house the brick addition built by him having a front of a door and 5 windows must have been necessary - 

The choir of the cathedral built by Mr Rufus, perfect and handsome - its side-aisles quite plain - no old monuments - merely a few plain neat modern ones - 1 ditto for archdeacon Paley put up by his 2nd son - none during the lifetime of his eldest son nor even any inscription on the gravestone till it was done by a sister of the archdeacon’s from Yorkshire - the transept shabby - the south end paving given way a little on both sides on account of the weight of the great tower put on over the centre - great bare wall where the entrance to the nave should be, reminding one of the ruined Scotch churches in fact the nave (built before the conquest) all but 2 arches on each side, was destroyed by Cromwell, who built 3 grand houses in the town of the materials - 1 in the middle of the town (still standing) and 1 at each gate - the 2 gates and guard houses all swept away - these small part of the nave now serves as a parish church very large thick, round columns (something like those at Gloucester) 2 with very little wrought capitals and 2 with capitals not wrought at all saxon arches quite rude unornamented in any way - 

Henry 1 erected this into a bishops seat - the old part of the nave, built of white imperishable stone - all the rest of red sandstone and worn away like that Chester Cathedral - the clerk who shewed me round remembered Archdeacon P-[aley]’s 1st wife Miss Hewitt, and her mother who was then with another person the only one in Carlisle who sold spirits by retail - Mrs P-[aley]’s sister married Mr Hudson (he called him) (Hodgson father of Miss H-[udson] I have met at Lightcliffe) a manufacturer of Dolstone (4 or 5 miles from here near the bishops palace) who was the 1st who introduced the cotton business here and would have done well but laid out too much money in building and was besides taken by a banker here who ruined himself and he died of a broken heart leaving very little behind him - Miss Grisdale now at Lowther castle - always goes while the family comes down - her father Dr G-[risdale] of the free grammar school - her father an inn keeper at Maryfort - he once expected to have been bishop of Carlisle thro’ the Lousdale interest - left his 3 daughters very little - 2 of them comfortably married and Lord Lousdale does not forget Miss G-[risdale] Dr G-[risdal] every warm in politics for the Lowthers - when Broughan was thrown out for Westmoreland, it was in fact a struggle between the Thanet and Lowther interest - the clerk not having the keys of the chapter house did not see it, as he said it was merely a large plain room, gothic roof, but lately done up - he shewed me Miss G-[risdale]’s small house (shut up) as we walked down castle street then pointed to the castle an left me - 

Went to the castle - large pile of building - 3 great towers - a very large area walled in it within it modern erections for barracks and all the old buildings turned into barracks, armory, and storerooms - 4 companies of the 80th foot there and 8 artillerymen from the headquarters at Neurcastle - Col. Ross of the artillery commands the garrison - find view from the flagstaff tower - it was in this tower that Queen Mary was - stood a little while for the view over the town and country - too thick to see very far into the country - look on to the smooth race course and close to it the fine white stone 5 arch-bridge we passed last night over the Eden - 4 or 5 made up small arches and 1 open arch raise the road over the low ground as far as to the town - then walked all round under the castle wall and went and stood up the 3 arched red sandstone bridge (Caldew Bridge) over the rapid Caldew - 

Then turned up and walked all round the sort of rampart wall round the outside of the town to the new jail - 1 of the turn keys shewed me over it - made no notes, for he wrongly told me these were the plans and an account of it published - Nixon, and Barber was it? architects - cost £50,000 - just finished - magnificent building - off red sandstone - very high wall encloses the whole - [HF] ½ round the foot of the wall (within) nice kitchen garden - calls for fellows male and female - ditto for debtors - ditto ditto for house of correction prison - hospital rooms - water closet to each ward - 2 condemned cells for men and 2 ditto for women and water closets belonging to them - hospital kitchen - general kitchen - laundry - wash house - work shops and every possible place that can be useful - goaler’s house in the middle - hexagon? the ground floor 26 smallish rooms - 2nd floor chapel and 22 rooms - the 3rd floor same as ground floor - goaler’s house so built for gentleman debtors to have separate rooms - iron balcony round the 2nd floor of goaler’s house with staircases from the 3?different divisions of the prison (3 divisions? i.e. felons, debtors, and house of correction prisoners) - as little wood used as possible - iron roofing - principal mullions of goaler’s house windows iron so that in case of fire as the light wood frame might be burnt - all the floor joists iron? all the prison rooms stone-arched above and below - hinges iron plate reservoir from Greenwich into that the treadmill (10 people will keep it going) to pump water to supply the prison and the whole town - the men on the treadmill 10 minutes then rest 5 minutes from 6 a.m. to 6 p.m. everyday - saw 10 upon the wheel - 30 or more might work at a time - a young soldier of the 80th in the house of correction for getting a girl with child - the commanding officer cannot resist his being imprisoned till some agreement is made with the parish officers - 

Then went to the court - the crown end in large round tower (battlemented - all the whole building battlemented and castle-like) in the same pile of building with the prison (above the workshops &c joining to the tower is the platform for hanging people) - handsome court room but seems rather small - on the opposite side the street is another handsome tower and pile of battlemented building is the [?] [?] court same plan and size as the crown court - at or round the end of the court is a small crescent of neat sand brick houses called (in the plan of the town court crescent and [?] row) citadel and leading to it is Lowther street - Lord Lousdale’s picturesque in a magnificent gilt frame is to ornament the grand jury room (large handsome plain rather Gothic room - very neat Gothic oak ceiling - good mod? - plain square compartments at top - the cornice being small drops as in Henry 7th chapel) Lawyers room - witnesses ditto - every possible convenience - near to the prison is the Bush Inn or Holmes’s hotel in English street the 1st Inn in the town and 2nd is that where I am, the Crown and Mitre, close to Castle Street - In returning down English street from the prison to the market cross (a column on high large ? with 3 steps round the bottom of it) went down Fisher Street, passed thro’ the Shambles - got some how into Finkle street and up Castle street home and came in at 6 25/60 English street and Castle street - good, handsome streets - the last census (the clerk told me, 16,000 - but now the population 200,000) - 

Dinner at 6 ½ - afterwards will 9 wrote the above of today - vide line 4 of today the weather - very heavy thunder shower at 3 40/60 (while I was in the cathedral) and 3 or 4 loud peals of thunder and saw a flash or 2 of lightning - fair after this and fine evening - no box come at 5 this afternoon - the waiter says it cannot come till 10 ½ p.m. by the Independent coach -at 9 a military band playing past the window for a few minutes cherry ripe - somehow this tune (played on board the steamer as the L-[awton]’s?, and I sailed from Liverpool for the Menai bridge) always soothes me to melancholy  - then settled accounts of the evening - and went to my room at 9 50/60 - sprinkled my bed with vinegar and rubbed over with it my face, neck, hands, arms and unluckily eyes - a little got in, smarted exceedingly and produced a great degree of inflammation that particularly in the right there was a mass of sort of moving jelly that completely enveloped the bloodshot eye - I had just got into wishing rather to have been bit by a hundred than taken such a remedy against them - when the box was announced - in despair to find they had sent the wrong one - desired boots to take me an inside place in the Independent at 3 ½ in the morning to go back to Dumfries in search of my box - got into bed again - could not sleep - afraid of not being awakened in time - called for a light - eight..

[Left margin:  the public buildings red sandstone the houses of Carlisle brick]

(Diary reference: SH7MLE110042 & SH7MLE110043)

#1828 #august #scotland #carlisle #carlisle prison #treadmill #anne lister #anne lister code breaker

[dw-writes]

The Garden Path

Summary: A path of wildflowers marks the way towards the woods, waiting for those who hear It.

A/N: This is something that I wrote and posted on patreon a while back, something that I decided to experiment with. I don’t know if I’m particularly proud of it, but it is something that I do enjoy. I especially enjoy the creature, and might feature him somewhere else later, if the need arises.

Please, let me know what you think of this! If I should continue writing the creature’s story, or if you just enjoyed it. :)

There’s a path behind my house. It cuts through the garden, and through the field behind the gate, and disappears into the woods. I haven’t ever walked it, because it’s old, and honestly, it’s a path that makes you think twice when you step foot on it. It’s worn into the ground from being walked almost constantly. But, since my family moved into the house almost twenty-five years, no one has walked it, so there’s now wildflowers punching through the dirt, tiny ones with seven noxious green petals and a bed of fluffy black and white stamen in the middle.

They are odd flowers: they only grow in the foot path.

On my twenty-fifth birthday, Mom said she heard a noise. We were making candied oranges together. It was something we had done every year since I could touch the stove without burning myself. I sat on the counter as Mom made the third batch, watching her move through the motions like a professional. She was telling me about the plans for the night – a nice dinner, with slow cooked chicken and roasted potatoes, homemade bread, and hand churned ice cream for dessert. “If you want to, of course,” she added with a smile. I took a candied orange from the plate. “You’re an adult, you probably have plans.”

“Nothing really,” I answered. I kicked my feet. My heels fell against the lower cabinets with echoing thuds. “Most of my friends work tonight, so we were gonna do something tomorrow. Head to the movies, maybe?” I shrugged. “There’s that old one that was just restored down in The Square. They’re gonna be showing some old flicks, ‘50s, ‘60s, and such.” Mom’s attention wandered away from the stove to the window. Her hands stopped what they were doing. “We’re gonna…. dress up….” I trailed off with a frown. “Mom?”

“Do you hear that?” she whispered. Her voice was miles away.

I glanced up at the window. It was open, and the sun filtered through the old warped glass as though through water. Outside was beautiful, like staring at a painting. But all I heard was the fire on the stove. I shook my head. “No, I don’t hear anything.” Her hands fell dangerously close to the flames. I jumped from the counter and pulled them away. “Mom?”

“Hm?”

I squeezed her hands when she didn’t turn away from the window. She finally looked at me then with this odd smile. “Are you okay?” I asked.

“Oh, I’m perfect,” she answered. Her eyes drifted back to the window. I finished the third batch of candied oranges. She was still standing there as I cleaned the kitchen, divided the candy into small boxes, and labeled them for my friends. She still stood there when I returned to the kitchen forty-five minutes later, carrying a basket to take the candy.

I pressed a hand against her back. She didn’t even twitch. “I’m gonna go take these to the gang, okay?” I whispered. She hummed. “Maybe you should sit down?” I suggested. She hummed again, noncommittal but acknowledging.

I left to see Dad in the spare bedroom. He sat at his desk in there, clacking away at his computer, working on another book for his publisher. Trying not to break his focus, I threw him a quick hello-goodbye, and told him that Mom was in the kitchen. He nodded. “I’ll be back later for dinner,” I said.

He turned in his chair then and smiled. “Happy birthday,” he drawled.

I smiled, leaned against the door frame. “You remembered because of the dinner, didn’t you?” I teased.

“No,” he protested. He turned back to his computer so fast that I laughed. I didn’t blame him. He was in another world with his novel.

I left, visited my friends, delivered the candied oranges, and spent a little time with each of them as we ironed out our plans for the following day.

When I came home, there was a police car out front. I ran into the house, found it empty, continued through it, until I found Dad standing in the back garden with the police. The cop was taking a statement from Dad, while another office was staring into the woods far behind our house. He stood on the path, holding a flashlight next to his face. The flowers that were caught in the glaring white light were broken, trampled on. After a moment, he shook his head and looked back at us.

It wasn’t hard to piece together what happened.

They searched the woods for a week before just…stopping. The cops told us that if Mom did wander off into the woods that she would come back when it got cold, or when she got hungry. Some of the louder, more disrespectful ones said that she probably was attacked by a wolf or a bear.

Dad punched the first one that said that within earshot of him.

He wasn’t the same after Mom went missing. He didn’t write, didn’t eat, didn’t do much of anything. He just sat at the dining table, right in the middle of the kitchen, beneath the window that Mom had stared out of. He kept it open. He always kept it open.

On my twenty-sixth birthday, Dad was sitting at the table. He picked at the breakfast I made – eggs, bacon, potatoes, pancakes. He had eaten a few bites and drank his orange juice but didn’t do much else. I sat across from him, slowly stealing the food off his plate so it didn’t go to waste.

He lifted his head when I took the pancakes from him. “Do you hear that?” he croaked.

I froze. He stared out the window. With the way he sat, he could stare just over the windowsill. He didn’t move. I don’t even know if he breathed. He just…stared.

“I don’t hear anything,” I finally said. The words were hard to get out, especially with the dread that crept up my throat. I set my fork down at I watched him. “What is it?”

“It’s her.” He didn’t clarify. The longer I watched him, the more I saw change. His skin grew warmer, a light finally igniting beneath it after a cold and terrible winter. The grey that now threaded his hair seemed to melt into the rest of the light brown locks. He looked almost younger. And his eyes were filled with unshed tears.

I stood from my chair and touched his shoulder. “I don’t hear anything,” I repeated. He didn’t move. Another few minutes, and I released him, turning away to pick up the dishes and save the pancakes for later in the day. I cleaned around him, brought a blanket to drape around his shoulders, and when the time came for me to leave for work, I hesitated.

Would he still be there when I came home?

I kissed his rough cheek before I grabbed my phone. “I’ll be right back, okay?” I told him. When I received no response, I stepped out of the kitchen, shoving my hand through my hair as I called work. My boss answered on the first ring.

It wasn’t easy to explain when I asked for the day off – “I’m sorry, but my dad just suddenly went comatose? And I’m worried about what might happen if I leave him alone.”

Instead of questioning, she hesitantly asked, “Isn’t it the anniversary of…?”

I sighed, “Yeah. It is.”

“Take the day. Be with your dad. I’m sure the both of you could use it.” She paused. “And happy birthday.”

I didn’t thank her. I hung up with a sigh and shoved my phone into my back pocket. “Dad?” I called. I turned around and walked back into the house. “It’s just you and me today, and—” The words caught in my throat. The blanket I had draped around his shoulder was lying on the floor and Dad was gone. I shot through the kitchen, turned the corner, and spotted the back door just swinging closed.

By the time I got outside, he was halfway across the field, following the wildflower path at a brisk pace. I jumped over path’s gap at our gate and raced after him. “Dad!” I shouted. The field between the house and the woods was so big, so choked with weeds and thick grass that I might as well had been running through water. When I reached where he had been just moments ago, he was breaching the woods, stepping between two curved trees and into the shadows just behind them.

“WAIT!” I screamed. The grass thinned. I jumped from the path, scrambled alongside it, and slammed into one of the curving trees, knocking the breath out of me. He had been right there only seconds ago and now he was just…

He was gone.

I called the police only when my voice cracked from screaming for Dad for so long.

They searched the woods again, half as enthusiastic as before but much more empathetic.

They at least looked for two weeks this time.

Dad’s picture joined Mom’s at the police station, up on a pinboard filled with flyers of missing people.

I quit my job after that, took up where Dad had left off a year ago, and finished his last book. The royalties were enough to keep the lights on and my fridge stocked, and that was enough. That was fine.

Now, I spend my time out in the garden, sitting in a chair I had dragged from the kitchen, wrapped up in a blanket and eating candied oranges.

Every day I watch that gap in the woods in the distance. I watch the noxious green wildflowers bend towards the sun through the sky. I watch and I wait.

It is now my twenty-seventh birthday. I settle into the chair late in the morning, pulling the blanket around my shoulders, and sip orange juice from a mug. It is just another day at this point. I think that, maybe, if I don’t acknowledge the day, that it won’t happen.

But it does.

I see him first. I think it is because I am looking for him that I see him. He is tall, I can tell that even from so far away. His golden skin pushes away the shadows like a glowing candle. His horns curve high above his head, ending at dangerous points. He has pointed ears adorned with gems that sparkle in his own personal radiance.

And then I hear his voice, a deep baritone that touches my very soul before it even graces my ears.

He asks me to join him.

I am out of my seat before I even register agreeing. The wildflowers pad the trail beneath my bare feet. I walk slow, almost expecting someone to watch me, to stop me in my tracks or shout for me, but nothing comes. Would I stop even if they do? Probably not. It is just me and the man at the end of the path, the only one calling my name, beckoning for me.

He holds out a hand that ends in white crystal claws when I finally approach.

He helps me off the path and through the two curving trees with a simple tug.

I finally understand.

I finally hear it.

#horror #monster #monster love #i suppose #writing #original writing #original horror

[howwelldoyouknowyourmoon]

Nansook Hong’s video gets over one million views

LINK to Nansook Hong video  17 minutes

Her book is called: “In The Shadow Of The Moons: My Life In The Reverend Sun Myung Moon’s Family.” Little, Brown & Co.  Boston, New York, Toronto & London, 1998  

▲ The marriage of Hyo Jin Moon and the fifteen-year-old Nansook Hong, officiated by Sun Myung Moon and Hak Ja Han on January 7, 1982.

Nansook was married at 15, pregnant at 16, and a mother at 17.

Messiah Sun Myung Moon was guilty of breaking US law on 2 counts: false visa for Nansook to enter the US and enabling underage sex. (The age of consent was 17 in New York state in 1982, and is the same now.)

Nansook Hong fled from her volatile and abusive husband and the Moon ‘East Garden’ compound in August 1995.

Divorce papers were filed in December 1996.

In December 1997, Nansook Hong was granted a divorce from Hyo-jin Moon, and was given custody of their five children. Hyo-jin was granted visiting rights on condition he passed drug tests. He failed the tests.

On September 13, 1998, in a segment on CBS-TV’s “60 Minutes,” Mike Wallace spoke to Nansook Hong about her 14-year marriage to Hyo-jin Moon, the eldest son of the Reverend Sun Myung Moon. One of Moon’s estranged daughters, Un-jin Moon, broke her long public silence about the dysfunctional “True Family.” Un-jin backed up Nansook Hong’s account and called her “very honest.” Donna Orme Collins also contributed.

On September 21, 1998 Sun Myung Moon spoke at East Garden, but many members felt he failed to address their concerns from “60 Minutes.” The issue of another illegitimate son, Sam Park born in 1966, was a major one. Many members left.

In October 1998 Nansook’s book, In The Shadow Of The Moons: My Life In The Reverend Sun Myung Moon’s Family, was published in the U.S. It was also published in French (1998), Japanese (1998) and German (2000 and 2002). Sections of her book have also been published in a 1999 Korean book by Lee Dae-bok, 이대복 (a former member).

Mike Wallace spoke to Nansook Hong on the American CBS ‘60 Minutes’ TV program about her 14 year marriage to Hyo-jin Moon, the eldest son of the Reverend Sun Myung Moon. His daughter, Un-jin Moon, and Donna Collins also contributed.

TRANSCRIPT:

Mike Wallace: If you’re a 15 year-old Korean girl and your spiritual leader, your messiah, selects you to marry his son, that is about as close as you can get to heaven on earth. But sadly Nansook Hong’s marriage into the Reverend Sun Myung Moon’s family turned out to be more like hell on earth. As you will hear from her, and from one of Sun Myung Moon’s daughters, Moon himself and some of his children had not always practiced what Moon preaches. His Unification Church stresses no sex outside marriage, no alcohol, no illegal drugs. But Nansook says that is not what she saw after she married the Reverend’s eldest son, Hyo-jin Moon, the young man they call the prince.

Nansook Hong: He was the prince, the prince. He was very abusive, both physically and emotionally. He is alcoholic. He is addicted to drugs.

[video of Hyo-jin Moon giving a sermon to church members.]

▲ Hyo Jin cursing the church members at Belvedere

Hyo-jin Moon: After all, isn’t it give and take.

Mike Wallace: And, she told us, he was high on cocaine or some other drug when he made this rambling, angry, off-color speech to a church group.

Hyo-jin Moon: I am standing here being judged by you motherf*****s. What the f**k do you judge me by? Huhh.

Mike Wallace: Nansook didn’t even know Hyo-Jin when she was chosen to marry him, and she certainly didn’t expect a drug addict. She had been brought up believing that the Rev Moon’s family was without sin.

Nansook Hong: They had a lot of Moon and his family pictures that as a child, as a teenager, we adored, we admired. We looked at those nice smiles and the happy family and we thought that was ideal family.

MW: The Reverend Moon calls his family, the True Family, the perfect family.

NSH: Moon is a perfect human being, he is the only perfect human being on the earth, and he can choose his wife, and his wife then becomes perfect as well, and so his children become perfect because they are from this perfect man and perfect woman.

▲ Mike Wallace

MW: And so when Moon marries more than a thousand couples at once, as he did in New York last June, he exhorts them to live the high moral life that he, supposedly, exemplifies. The church told us that Moon himself had matched each couple by studying their pictures and brief biographies. And the newly-weds say they want their families to be just as virtuous as his.

Groom: He sets an example as to how to be true parents. The world is in dire need of strong family values. He not only preaches that, but he lives it as well.

Bride: True family, and they bring up children of goodness.

MW: And without sin…

Bride: No sin at all, no sin

MW: Drugs?

Bride: No drugs

MW: Alcohol?

Bride: No alcohol

NSH: Moon’s theology is that he is perfect man who can create perfect family, I think it kind of falls apart if I look at his children.

MW: The Moons gave birth to thirteen children, and various individuals who have been close to them told us, that, in violation of church rules, they have seen some of Moon’s children drink alcohol, smoke, and use illegal drugs. And Nansook soon learned that her husband is the worst of them. She lived with him here at the Moon’s opulent estate north of New York City.

▲ East Garden, Sunnyside Lane, Irvington (18 acres) was bought in 1973 for $566,150

▲ This Conference Center, in the grounds of East Garden, was built by Moon at a cost of $24million.

___________________________________

MW: Nansook says the Moons knew all about her husband’s drug problem but still they spoiled him; kept showering him with cash.

NSH: When he needed cash he went to his mum and his mum would give him from $1,000 up to $50,000 and some more.

MW: From a $1,000 to $50,000?

NSH: Yes, depends. Depends what he asked and what kind of mood the parents are in.

MW: Where did all this cash come from?

NSH: I believe it is mainly coming from Japan. When Japanese leaders come in, they bring cash in, and basically they give to Reverend and Mrs Moon.

MW: And how would his son use those church donations?

NSH: He basically used for his cocaine, his parties, his hostess, bar hopping, all the fun things that a person can do.

MW: Those fun things apparently included mistresses. Hyo-jin told her he was entitled to have affairs because his father had had them. And she says that Reverend Moon himself confirmed, to her, that he had had affairs and the Reverend told her that God wanted him to.

NSH: He told me, in person, that he… he called it providential affairs.

MW: Providential affairs?

NSH: Providential affairs

MW: What does that…?

NSH: It’s providential means that it is God’s mission. So he had to have these affairs, extra-marital affairs, because it was providential, it was God’s mission that he had to fulfill.

MW: Of course Reverend Moon does not tell his followers about that part of God’s mission. Instead he preaches that adultery is a major sin.

NSH: That is the worst sin that Unification Church members could commit, to commit adultery, then you will basically burn in hell forever. That is the one single most worse thing that you can do. But Hyo-jin did it many times and his parents know. But there is nothing they do.

▲ Hyo-jin Moon with two guns and a knife. His father is also holding one of the guns. Nansook said that Hyo-jin had a collection of about 60 guns, some of which he kept in their bedroom. She was fearful of them. Hyo-jin used money that Mrs Moon had given him, “earmarked for our children’s future, to buy a thirty-thousand-dollar gold-plated gun for his father and motorcycles for himself and his brothers.” … “He would open the gun case he kept in our bedroom and stroke one of his high-powered rifles. ‘Do you know what I could do to you with this?’ he would ask. He kept a machine gun, a gift from True Parents, under our bed.” ( ‘In the Shadow of the Moons’ pages 166 and 182)

___________________________________

MW: But worse than the affairs, she says, the Reverend’s eldest son would beat her. One awful night, she told us, he pummeled her while she was pregnant with her fifth child.

NSH: He was doing his cocaine ritual, and against my better judgement, I went and said I will have to talk to you. I said, I just cannot live like this. And I took his cocaine, and I tried to flush it down the toilet and that is when he started to punch me and I did get black eyes and I got bloody nose. And umm, he… But the big fear was that he was gonna kill the baby I was…

MW: You were carrying…

NSH: I was seven months pregnant and I was pretty big. And he kept saying, “I am gonna kill the baby, I’m gonna kill the baby.” That was the worst fear that I had, that he might punch and then something would happen.

MW: Whenever she told Reverend and Mrs Moon about the beatings, Nansook says, they blamed her.

NSH: I was not ideal wife for Hyo-jin that is why he would behave in a certain way towards me, and I was not a good member of their family – so also it was my fate…

MW: Who told you that? Mrs Moon or …

NSH: Both, both of them, yes. And it was my fate that I have to endure these things.

20:50

Un-jin Moon: Sounds familiar

MW: Nansook is getting support from a surprising source, one of Reverend Moon’s daughters, Un-jin Moon. She told us her parents blamed her too, when she was abused by her husband. Did he beat you?

▲ Un-jin Moon

UJM: Yes

MW: And you would tell your folks

UJM: Yes

MW: And they would say…

UJM: I deserved it.

MW: Un-jin Moon is estranged from her parents, but she has never criticized them in public before. She and a close friend, Jeannie Honnerd (spelling?), said that by coming forward they hoped to dissuade people from joining cults. Off camera Un-jin told us that she does not believe that her father is the messiah. On camera she put it this way:

UJM: He is just my father. I think that in itself should say a whole lot.

MW: Un-jin is a Moon, but not a Moonie, not a believer in her father’s church.

UJM: I believe in a God, but I don’t think that I want to belong to one particular denomination now.

MW: What do you think of Nansook? Honest?

UJM: I think she is very honest.

MW: Do you admire her, do you respect her, do you believe her?

UJM: Yes I do. I respect and admire her very much.

MW: Nansook got a degree in art history from Barnard College. Though she realized the perfect family was far from perfect, she tried to be philosophical about it. So what you are saying is that they are like…

NSH: … everybody else, like all of us who are dysfunctional. Every family has problems, so they are like everybody else. But I think a little more dysfunctional than an ordinary middle class family.

MW: Well they have more money to help them to be dysfunctional.

NSH: Yes

MW: The church won’t say how much money Moon has, or how many businesses he owns, but over the years he is reported to have amassed hundreds of million of dollars. Former Moon insider Donna Orme Collins was the first western child in Moon’s church. She was born into it because her parents set up the church in England.

▲ Donna Orme Collins

Donna Orme Collins: I grew up believing he was the messiah, but I can’t imagine it now.

MW: Moon took a personal interest in Donna, and as a favorite child from the West, she saw a lot of Moon’s family.

DC: I had more contact with his family that the average member which is probably what led me to leave because I saw a lot of the discrepancies between the teachings and his behavior in his family life.

MW: The final straw came for Donna and her family, she says, when they discovered another Moon family secret, that the Reverend has at least one illegitimate son. Moon’s daughter confirmed that:

Un-jin Moon: That I know, yes.

MW: You know the child?

UJM: Yes, his name is Sammy.

▲ Sammy Park with his mother, Soon-wha Choi, known as ‘Annie Choi’ in the US. There is a photograph of Sammy’s father on the wall behind them. It was at around this age that Sammy discovered the friendly auntie who came to visit was actually his mother.

___________________________________

MW: And Un-jin told us that the warm family pictures in the church magazine give a false impression; that the truth is that Moon spends very little time with his children; and that he and his children had never been close. Nansook says that there is even a language barrier between Moon and his five youngest children. Don’t his young children speak Korean?

NSH: Not really

MW: And the father does not speak much English.

NSH: The father doesn’t, no.

MW: So what you are saying is that the younger ones can’t talk to their dad.

NSH: They can’t really communicate.

Donna Collins: Actually that is what his daughter told me as well. But then I would say the communication he had, even with his older children, was not particularly intimate.

Do you worry at all that there might be some kind of revenge exacted upon you for your speaking out?

DC: Yes I was extremely frightened for a long time. I couldn’t speak out. But I think there is some safety in going public, and I certainly wanted to support Nansook, because I think it is wonderful that the truth comes out about him and his family.

MW: Over the years Nansook says that her husband became increasingly violent and she feared that he might hurt the children. So one night, three years ago, while, she says, her husband was locked in their bedroom after hours of cocaine, she hustled her five children into a minivan, hid them under blankets, and drove them out of the Moon’s luxurious estate, never to return.

▲ The entrance to the East Garden Estate showing the guardhouse.

MW: Now you live in a modest house in Lexington, Massachusetts, no swimming pools, no bowling alleys, no…

NSH: … no baby-sitters, no drivers, no cook.

MW: no cook

NSH: I am the cook. I had to learn.

MW: How have the children adjusted to this new lifestyle?

NSH: Oh, wonderfully. I am proud of them. We all had to learn a new way of life.

MW: A life that also contains fear of retaliation from the Moons.

NSH: They are not going to control my life. I basically have to live with the fear that I have that somebody might do something to me, but that is life.

▲ In the divorce court, Hyo-jin Moon looks at Nansook Hong.

___________________________________

MW: After telling the divorce court what she has told us about her husband, Nansook got her divorce plus $600,000 in cash and $9,000 a month for child support. Now 32 years old she works at a center helping battered women. And she has just completed a book called “In the Shadow of the Moons.” Why are you telling this story?

NSH: Because I feel that I was duped.

MW: Duped?

NSH: Duped. I feel I was conned. I had a certain naive idealism that I wanted to work for God. I do think a lot of people have that. And a lot of organizations like Moon do take full advantage of those people, and I was one of them.

MW: Nansook still believes in God, but she has a new way of looking at Reverend Moon.

NSH: I did come to the conclusion that Reverend Moon just cannot be the messiah.

MW: What you are saying is that he is a phony.

NSH: A con man.

MW: The Reverend Sun Myung Moon is a con man.

NSH: That is the conclusion I came with, [after] living with the family for 15 years.

MW: The Reverend and Mrs Moon declined to talk to us, but they did send us a brief statement. They wrote, in part, “We commiserate with Nansook over the suffering arising from the tragic personal problems our son has faced. We as parents feel a deep sense of responsibility.”

END

___________________________________

Sun Myung Moon and Hak Ja Han refused to help Hyo Jin pay court ordered money to Nansook and their grandchildren. Hyo Jin was jailed.

The Moon family tactic was to grind Nansook down financially so she would be forced return to her husband who had threatened to kill her. The “True Parents” failed because the judge understood their game. The “True Parents” had also failed to raise or guide their son to treat others with decency. The “True Parents” consistently blamed Nansook, whom they had married to Hyo Jin at age fifteen, for their own son’s failures and criminality.

Judge Edward Ginsberg didn’t buy Hyo Jin’s claim of poverty. He said he believes the Moon family is trying to squeeze Nansook Moon and her five young children. Judge Ginsberg agreed she must have money to pay her legal defense, and ordered Hyo Jin back to jail for another sixty days.

Nansook’s attorney, Weld Henshaw: “The church is, and the [Moon] family is going to devote all their energies, not to try to resolve the situation but to winning and grinding [Nansook and] their own grandchildren down. It is a pathetic, terrible situation.”

Suzanne Bates for WBZ News 4 in Boston: “Whether or not Hyo Jin can afford to pay, it is certain the Moon family could. Reverend Sun Myung Moon, who claims to be the messiah and the champion of family values, has millions of dollars in Trust Funds which have always supported his family, but he is not writing any checks to get his first son [Hyo Jin] out of jail.”

Full transcript of the WBZ-TV News reports

___________________________________

Japanese language 洪蘭淑 video transcript

Korean language 홍난숙 video transcript

Spanish – Nansook Hong entrevistada

Polish – Wideo: Nansook Hong w rozmowie z Mike'em Wallace'em.

____________________________________

A review of Nansook Hong’s revealing book

Nansook Hong interviewed by Rachael Kohn

Nansook Hong – [C-Span] Book Discussion – ‘In The Shadow of the Moons’ with FULL TRANSCRIPT

___________________________________

Book in English:

Nansook Hong – In The Shadow Of The Moons

___________________________________

Book in French:

« L’ombre de Moon » par Nansook Hong

J’ai arraché mes enfants à Moon – Nansook Hong

___________________________________

Book in Spanish:

‘A la Sombra de los Moon’ por Nansook Hong

Nansook Hong entrevistada

___________________________________

Nansook Hong book in German:

Nansook Hong – Ich schaue nicht zurück

___________________________________

Nansook Hong book in Japanese:

わが父文鮮明の正体 – 洪蘭淑

文鮮明「聖家族」の仮面を剥ぐ – 洪蘭淑

___________________________________

Polish:

Nansook Hong book Prologue

___________________________________

Three other significant videos about Sun Myung Moon’s activities:

VIDEO: The authors of The Tragedy of the Six Marys interviewed

English: Tragedy of the Six Marys video transcript with additional photos

Demands on the Japanese members of Mr. Moon’s church

Sam Park ‘Hidden History’ VIDEO – recorded at ICSA in 2014

Sam Park ‘Moon’s hidden history’ 2014 Video TRANSCRIPT

#Nansook Hong #Hyo Jin Moon #violence in the FFWPU #Sun Myung Moon #Hak Ja Han #FFWPU

[thewritingstar]

98 that’s a lot of questions I wonder if you could answer them all 🤔🙃

*Deep sigh and putting my hands together* BOI IF YOU DON’T THINK I CAN ANSWER ALL THESE BITCHES!! YOU COME INTO MY ASK BOX AND TELL ME “i WONDER” HOE DON’T WONDER ANYMORE. 

don’t come for me like this anon.....here ya go. 

smh

i answered all of these and it took forever so yall better read this shit

enjoy bitch

--

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?

-Mugs

2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

-both im a sugar addict

3. bubblegum or cotton candy?

-bubblegum

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

-prob either really quiet or really loud

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?

-I hate soda

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

-I really like pastel and goth styles

7. earbuds or headphones?

-earbuds

8. movies or tv shows?

-Both

9. favorite smell in the summer?

-Vanilla

10. game you were best at in p.e.?

-Flag Football (stealing the flags) and badminton

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?

-dont really eat in the mornings but prob granola bar or left overs

12. name of your favorite playlist?

-Shower lol

13. lanyard or key ring?

-lanyard

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

-Sour gummi worms..that shit is CRACK

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?

-Great Gatsby

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

-apple sauce or on one leg

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?

-all black converse

18. ideal weather?

-warm and sunny

19. sleeping position?

-stomach, side, in a ball

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

-Laptop or phone

21. obsession from childhood?

-My little pony, littlest pet shop, Disney, elephants, Chinese food

22. role model?

-Tara Strong, Walt Disney, Francis Dominic 

23. strange habits?

-tugging my hair, biting my nails, wiggling on my heels like a penguin and going up stairs on all fours (when im home)

24. favorite crystal?

-answered

25. first song you remember hearing?

-American idiot- Green Day

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

-Eat 

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?

-Eat

28. five songs to describe you?

-idk Cartoon theme songs lol

29. best way to bond with you?

-make me laugh or talk about disney

30. places that you find sacred?

-Flower gardens

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

-anything with my high heel boots

32. top five favorite vines?

-Road Work Ahead, Oh my god he on X Game mode, What the Fuck Richard, This house is fucking nightmare!, Happy one year babe! Im 27. 

33. most used phrase in your phone?

-YEET, Yall and bitch

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

-Stanley Steamer, The First5California.com song 

35. average time you fall asleep?

-now its 12 am -1 am... use to be like 10pm

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

-oh god that was so long ago i dont even know but it was one of the first ones like pepe or some some

37. suitcase or duffel bag?

-suitcase

38. lemonade or tea?

-raspberry ice tea

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?

-dont like lemon in my desserts 

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

-A condom was thrown on my desk in french class (it was unopened thank god)

41. last person you texted?

-my mom

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

-Jacket pockets

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?

-HOODIE

44. favorite scent for soap?

-Vanilla or tropical

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?

-Superhero

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

-Big shirt and no shorts (underwear obvi)

47. favorite type of cheese?

-I fucking hate cheese

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

-Strawberry or Lemon

49. what saying or quote do you live by?

-Its always fun to do the impossible- Walt Disney

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

-For my birthday my friend got my a “Sorry for your loss” card and i cried for 30 mins

51. current stresses?

-um everything..college and being the only snacc in my household

52. favorite font?

-comic sans

53. what is the current state of your hands?

-Still have both of them

54. what did you learn from your first job?

-That people are assholes 

55. favorite fairy tale?

-Disneys Rapunzel 

56. favorite tradition?

- My grandma got all the grandkids pjs on Christmas eve every year and we would wear them to sleep 

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?

-Anxiety, Depression (sorta), Dropping my churro on the ground at Disneyland

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

-Quick Wit, Art abilities?, Standing on my head and making weird ass noises

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

-Already answered

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

-A really cool and cute magical one!!

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

-From Once Upon A Time, honestly they ave the best quotes. “So when I win your heart, Emma- and i will win it-it will not be because of any trickery, but because you want me”- Killian orrrrrrr He smells like forest”- Regina

62. seven characters you relate to?

-Juvia (FairyTail), Star (SVTFOE), Mabel (Gravity Falls), Maybec (Kingdom Keepers, sassy and artistic), Bubbles and Blossom (PPG) and Belle (beauty and the beast)

63. five songs that would play in your club?

-Boyfriend: BTR, Dancings not a crime: Panic!, Bang bang: Jessie, Ari and Nicki, Read you, wrote you: Drag race lol and Busted from Phineas and Ferb because I can

64. favorite website from your childhood?

-Webkinz, PetPetPark (STILL SALTY ABOUT IT) Club Penguin, Build a bear, Poptropica, i played every game yall

65. any permanent scars?

-only emotionally 

66. favorite flower(s)?

-Roses and water lilies..and every flower cause they pretty.. oh Dahlias too

67. good luck charms?

-petting my dogs. 

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

-Mango anything or Cherry. I hate cherry flavoring. 

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?

-I have a great memory so i usually remember how i learned it, but.. Did you know that the water on the Jungle Cruise in Disneyland is 3 feet deep and dyed brown? Plus the water in all the parks is a special mix that doesn't contain chlorine because alot of people are allergic so its safe to touch? (learn from a disney doc)

70. left or right handed?

-right

71. least favorite pattern?

-those ugly ones on leggings.

72. worst subject?

-Math or english (haha and i like to write)

73. favorite weird flavor combo?

-Grapes and teriyaki sauce. if they on the plate. ill just dip them in. I have an addiction to teriyaki sauce. 

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

-I dont take any unless I have my period and my cramps are usually at a 10 so i try and take it when they at a 5

75. when did you lose your first tooth?

-when i was young 

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

-I LOVE potatos: Fries and mash are best plus baked. I HATE chips thou

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?

-Any bright flower or ivy

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

-coffee, dont like sushi

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?

-AHHHH my license is soooooo bad. I had strips of red in my hair (got it when i was 15-16) and i didnt know they took your pic at your permit test. Its awful. School is def better and my senior photo pops. 

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

-Jewel

81. fireflies or lightning bugs?

-Fireflys (arent they the same?)

82. pc or console?

-Console 

83. writing or drawing?

-Both but im better at writing

84. podcasts or talk radio?

-Podcasts but I dont listen to alot. 

84. barbie or polly pocket?

-I played more with Littlest Pet Shop and My Little Pony lol (i have 400) prob Barbie thou

85. fairy tales or mythology?

-oooooooofffff cant decide

86. cookies or cupcakes?

-oooooff i love both but cupcakes

87. your greatest fear?

-wasting my life away.....or heights...certain bugs

88. your greatest wish?

-to be happy and have all my dreams (life, job, romance,etc) happen. Plus going to every Disney Park in the world.

89. who would you put before everyone else?

-Depends on the situation but sometimes you need to take care of yourself before others. If you arent doing good, how the hell you suppose to take care of others. 

90. luckiest mistake?

-hmmm idk being born

91. boxes or bags?

-depends on what im carrying but prob bags

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

-I love fairy lights

93. nicknames?

-any mispronunciation of my name, Dean, Big D (yes people call me this), Star, Sassafras and some more that yall dont get to know :) You can give me a nickname if ya want

94. favorite season?

-Spring and Summer

95. favorite app on your phone?

-Tumblr, Snapchat, Tsum Tsum 

96. desktop background?

- Its items from super mario and mario kart

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?

- Eight

98. favorite historical era?

-oof im a history buff but I do love Greek and Roman because I love mythology...Maybe even 1800s.

hi if you got to the end of this then I love you and for proof leave me a 🐰

[omgnsfwisnsfw-blog]

The Beginning Is The End Is The Beginning: Second Chapter Prologue

It was nighttime, and the waning moon was, for some reason, vividly bright. Mike McGuire was laying in the middle of the ring in their backyard, staring up through the branches. The leaves had yet to sprout, but the buds were set to start opening up anytime. Same could be said for the young plants newly set in the soil near the back porch- a small plot of land freshly tilled up, planted with varying marigolds, daffodils, impatiens, and centered in it all, a rosebush received for Valentine’s. It was nice and neat, every plant perfectly arranged. The same could not be said for the garage.

--------------

It had all began not even a few days ago. A few days ago after losing their beloved tag team championship belts at the biggest show of the year. They had spoken little. They showered, dressed, went to the hotel, slept, got on the plane the next morning. And somewhere over the ocean, John had turned to Mike, and in a rare initiation of conversation…

“Mike.”

John was looking out the window, like he did with every trip, and there was a quiet mesmerization about it. Mike startled a bit. He didn’t usually initiate conversation. Sometimes early on they wouldn’t speak for hours, and when Mike asked why he wasn’t talking to them he simply replied ‘you didn’t say anything.’ Him breaking his ‘speak when spoken to’ habit usually indicated he had something important on his mind, so they’d shifted and given him their full attention. “Yeah, bud?”

“I turned 42 two weeks ago.”

He didn’t sound overtly happy about it. John’s emotional inflection was a subtle, nuanced thing, but by now Mike had become very attuned to picking it out. Still, they offered him a wavery little smile, probably in an attempt to cheer the both of them up. “You shoulda told me that. Woulda made you a cake.”

John shrugged.

“Better stuff to celebrate.”

His hand touched the window briefly.

“Like us.”

He turned to Mike in his chair and spoke low.

“But what I mean is that … maybe I can continue to do this. Maybe my body holds up a little longer. But I’ve come to realization that I don’t want to.” They sat up bolt upright, their head tilting to the side. For a moment they resembled an Irish Setter who just heard a far-off dog whistle and was trying to process what in the world that sound was. “You wanna stop? Like… this minute?” It wasn’t accusatory- more like confirming that the sounds coming out of his mouth were forming words that they were understanding the meaning of.

“Yes.” “You sure?” “Yes.” They sat back in their seat, expression a little dazed, as if showing mild signs of shock. Then they closed their eyes, inhaled, exhaled. Managed a smile, wobbly for a different reason than their previous one, and reached over, giving his wrist a squeeze. “...okay.”

The declaration had caught Mike completely off guard. In a way, they thought, they should’ve seen it coming at some point- he’d made some remarks about the ugliness of the business, beginning to think past it. But they hadn’t thought it would happen so suddenly. It was like driving at 60 MPH and then suddenly slamming on the brakes, the sudden jettisoning into the seatbelt knocking out all your breath and leaving your insides hurting. They went home. He planted his garden, seeming serene and perfectly content. Mike gave Alundra a once-over- they’d had her painted in their absence, the vivid yellow and red flame paintjob traded for an emerald green with orange flame one. The new vanity plates installed- NSFW 1. Something stabbed inside them. The next day. Grocery shopping. Mike going over their particulars. So much had been provided for them that had to be taken into account now. Health insurance- the extended coverage wouldn’t last forever, and though they could easily afford it, plans for two people in their shape wasn’t going to come easily. Something pricked at their eyes. Mike kept staring at their phone. It would ring eventually, they just knew it, a gruff voice on the other end demanding what in the blue hell they thought they were doing, is this what I wasted my time on you for, pulling yourself out of obscurity and stumbling into the perfect partner just to vanish like a fart in the wind? They weren’t sure the old man would say that. But what would they think, when they heard? How would they explain ‘he wanted out and I couldn’t deny him that and I can’t keep going in good fucking conscience without him’? And so on till today. This evening. Just now. Mike found themselves in the garage. They looked around. A small box was on the table- a prototype of a new piece of merch. A snowglobe. Little figurines of them under a dome of glass filled with water. They held their title belts. Shake it, orange and green confetti glitter swirled around. Pieces of fanmail, notes on their Twitter, asked where they’d gone. Some wished them well. Some worried that they were hurt or worse. Some said they felt betrayed. Why couldn’t you have even said goodbye? We believed in you. Quitters. Mike’s grip tightened on the snowglobe, their teeth gritting together hard. ‘It got taken from me and I wasn’t ready, and it fuckin’ sucks. So bad.’ Their own words from a year past slam into their brain and with a roar, they throw the snowglobe down, sending a shatter of broken glass and glitter water splatting over the concrete floor. A t-shirt snatched from a box, the phoenix that’d been emblazoned on their viking flags torn in two with an obnoxious ripping sound, the rest of the box kicked over. Their head whipped around, glaring viciously at the cardboard face of David Scott. Screeching, all but consumed by their fury, they dashed forward, grabbing him by the top of his large, scowling head and tearing the cutout apart. They couldn’t believe their own anger. They felt robbed, cheated, resentful. And all those feelings made Mike feel even worse, because they didn’t want to direct them at John. They couldn’t have kept going if he hadn’t wanted to. They didn’t want to be one more person who knew his desires and chose to ignore them. Mike’s train of thought slowly cooled their anger. All that was left was a giant mess of broken glass, torn t-shirts, dented boxes, ripped up cardboard. Something sick heaved in their chest and they left the garage, numbly trekking through the backyard until they found themselves in the ring.

-------------- So there they were. Maybe they could salvage something. Maybe the fans they hadn’t completely alienated would still want them, for old time’s sake. If they got back into auto repair maybe they could even sell them there as a bonus. Nostalgia was always a hot ticket, and somebody in the future was bound to remember that one tag team that got super hot and then vanished without a trace out of nowhere. Raising an arm, they laid it over the bridge of their nose, shielding their closed eyes from the moonlight as they tried not to sob. Don’t be fuckin’ stupid.

John stood in the doorway of garage backdoor. Behind him was the aftermath of the disturbance that woke him. He had noticed immediately that Mike was gone. He had sat up from the bed and waiting until the noises subside. Quietly, he went to the garage and looked upon what had happened. His emotions ticked up slightly to disappointment that the quiet last few days had been a simmering pot and it had just spilled over. Soft footsteps went across the yard to the source. He stood just outside the ring, keeping his distance for the moment. He cut through the ambience of the night.

“I know you’re angry at me.” There was a long pause. The soft, occasional chirp of an early cricket or two. “‘M not mad at you. I feel shitty that I’m mad at all. S’ fuckin… complicated.” They didn’t move, their speech muted. If their anger was a fire, right now they were the embers that some knowledgeable Eagle Scout had doused with water and stirred up with a stick. Only You Can Prevent Wildfires. “...i didn’t want to not give you this. I feel like I’ve let people down. Myself a little. And then I get mad at myself cuz the alternative is what? Making you run yourself down when you don't want to anymore just to feed my own fuckin’ dream that I should’a grown out of? It… I…” Sniff. “...it just happened so fuckin’ quick. Like slammin’ a book shut ‘fore you read the end.”

John circled around to the wooden steps leading up onto the apron. He put a foot on the first step.

“I thought it would just be the end of a chapter.” Slowly lowering their arm from their face, they scooted themself across the canvas a bit away from the center- not a recoil, but an invitation. Reaching up, they curled their hand around the bottom rope. They knew that. It made them feel even more foolish for exploding the way they had, the silvery light of the moon accentuating the blush standing out on their damp cheeks. “I’m bein’ a fuckin’ dumb baby, aren’t I…”

“No. Not happy that I advertently made a decision for you as well.”

“We’re a package deal. Can’t do it without you. Don’t want to. I know what you said’s right. Our story ain’t over. Just feel like I’ve been thrown violently into the next scene without any time to brace myself. But I’ll get over it. Get over myself, maybe.” Their right arm, the one not gripping onto the rope, reaches out to the side, fingers beckoning a bit. “‘M sorry I broke all that stuff… poor Milscott…”

“It was just that. Stuff.”

He stepped up onto the apron.

“I believed in what we said. All of that talk about hall of fames and being the greatest. It was fun. It lit a fire inside of me. But it made me feel like we were walking down the wrong path. Like we almost did before.”

“Mouthy little shit talks a big game.” There was a dry chuckle at that. All that talk of being the first tag team in the EWC Hall of Fame would likely amount to just that. Talk. It was one of the things that’d jagged at them these past few days, that their ultimate legacy was apparently a foul-mouthed hothead who made big grandiose boasts only to bail without warning. Exhaling, they turned their head toward him, hand still reaching in his direction. “How so? We weren’t bein’ dicks again, were we?”

“No.”

He walked along the the edge of the apron, stopping just before them.

“Don’t think it was that simple. Our words, though? They started to mirror something we swear we’d never be. Started to have some folks nod along that weren’t before.”

It took Mike a moment to puzzle that one out, their mouth pursing, flicking two and fro, nose crinkling a bit. After a few seconds, though, their red-rimmed eyes popped, left hand releasing the rope and going to their mouth with a gasp. “Noooooo. You can’t fuckin’ mean… no. No motherfuckin’ way we were sounding like him. … Were we really?”

“Maybe not exactly. But it made me think. Readjusted a few priorities.”

He had finally stepped through the ropes and entered the ring. He stood over them.

“I would have gone as long as we had those belts. And sure, there were amazing possibilities on the horizon. I love the sport. But I had been wrong in the assumption that it was the only thing I was meant to do. You made me see that.” Mike looked up at him. From this angle he looked impossibly huge, and it made them feel smaller in comparison. Physically anyway. John never made you feel small as a person, and if he did, you probably deserved it. “...maybe I’ve had it backwards this whole time then. I kept seeing things as… I don’t fuckin’ know… a block building. You take out any one part of it- me, you, our home, the business- and everything falls to pieces. I mean I figured we’d stop someday, maybe in a year or two, kinda ease out of it, tell everybody where we were going an’ why. But in all those big fuckin’ pipe dreams I didn’t think about what you thought. I just assumed you wanted the same thing I did when it came to the business an’ that was fuckin’ selfish of me. I’m really sorry.”

He knelt down beside Mike, before finally sitting back, crossing his legs.

“I wanted all of that. But there’s more to us, I believe. I’d be naive to think there isn’t conflict elsewhere in the world but it is less likely than what we were doing. I had remembered what I loved about the business before it was taken all away. But more importantly, I now have something I never had.”

“...VIP customer status at Barnes and Noble?” The cheeky grin that flicked onto Mike’s face wasn’t the wavering, willing-yourself-to-smile expression she’d given him the last couple days. Like a breath of fresh air, it was real. Slowly, they pulled themself up to a sitting position, folding their legs likewise, facing him, reaching for his hands. Without hesitation, John placed his hands into theirs. He smiled in response to Mike’s joke. Sighing softly, Mike ran their thumbs over his knuckles tenderly. Even if they had been mad at him, it wouldn’t have lasted. They could be mad at a lot and hold grudges for ages, but never at him. Something about John was impossible to be angry with- least that’s how Mike saw it. “So… now what?”

John shrugged in response. But in that same moment, he felt an answer come through.

“We stop hiding who we are.”

#Location: Home #post EWC

[pofcroyalfanfiction]

Chapter Fifty Four - Somebody Elses Party

Soon the garden was packed with guests, all dressed in their summer finery. Her birthday party had become one of the Queen’s palace garden parties, except it was even more exclusive. Where were the casual outfits? Where’s the rocking music and kids running around? Most importantly, where were any of her friends from Marlborough?

Ellie tried to be as polite as possible with everyone who spoke to her, grateful for their time and efforts in their charities, now without Charlotte to help keep conversations going, but all the while she was on constant lookout trying to spot at least one girl from her dormitory. It had been at least two hours and she’d had no luck, even Taylor Swift had been swept away by the grownups.

She would know a thing or two about best friends.

At least the family was still here, tactically dispersed throughout the garden to talk to as many people as possible and push the royal brand. Savannah and Isla were there, hiding by the bushes with the other teenagers and kids, keeping to themselves. They beckoned Ellie over, noticing her discomfort in the middle of the crowd, the center of attention, but as soon as she made a move to reach them, she was swept aside by her grandmother, Camilla.

“Eleanor, darling, are you enjoying your party?” she asked sweetly.

“Yes, granny, it’s lovely.” Ellie lied. Half lied. Mostly lied.

“It’s a wonderful gathering, so many bright minds come to see you. You should feel very special.”

She hated being told how she should feel, but felt bad for feeling anything but special.

“I do granny, I do.” Ellie reassured her, feeling even more guilty.

It’s not that I’m not grateful for them, I can be charitable, I’m a nice person. I just… don’t want them here. Shit, that sounds terrible.

“Have you seen any of my school friends?” Ellie asked hopefully, even though she knew her grandmother had no clue who her friends were. As sweet as she was, Camilla still thought she liked Take That, even though they were before her time.

“School friends, dear? Camilla seemed confused. “This isn’t really the right place for that sort, is it?”

“That sort?” Ellie pressed her. Thankfully she was well practiced in disguising her irritation. Camilla didn’t pick up on it.

“Yes, the rowdy sort. I imagine your school friends are rather less refined than yourself. Marlborough has been going downhill for years. I did argue for you to be sent to Queen’s Gate and then Mon Fertile, but your mother insisted on Marlborough.”

Ellie ignored that jab. Camilla had always been clear, either outright stating it or via a veiled remark, that she felt Ellie had had too much of a ‘common’ upbringing that was not fitting of a future queen. This was no different.

“It is where she went, granny.” Ellie reminded her.

“I know, I know, it’s a family thing. I still feel you would have done better at Queen’s Gate, at least then you would have made friends we could actually invite.”

“What does that mean?” Ellie was now struggling to hide her anger.

“Darling, did you honestly expect your mother to send any invitations to Marlborough? This was always going to be a formal event, although between you and me, this seems far too casual.”

Ellie was seething. She turned away from Camilla and watched the party, soaking it all in. The party atmosphere had vanished and all she could see was money. The posh and the wealthy, the upper class. She was growing more and more uncomfortable by the second. Why would her mother let this happen?

This isn’t me. She knows this isn’t me.

Camilla seemed to pick up on her frustration, “Don’t worry dear, it’ll get more formal as you get older.”

“I’ll speak to you later granny. Thank you for coming.” Ellie kissed her on the cheek and made a quick escape before Camilla started talking about bringing back the 60’s and arranging her debutante ball.

Ellie made her way through the crowd, thanking everyone for coming. She briefly shook hands with Idris Elba and talked about his new film, then he introduced her to even more acting pals. Ellie remained polite throughout, but kept trying to navigate her way to her mother who was holding court in the middle of the garden, with George and Charlotte holding onto her legs.

“Mum, can we talk?” Ellie asked quietly.

“In a minute sweetheart, you need to meet Danielle and Willa here.” Kate put her hand on the small of her back and ushered her towards the two women.

It stayed that way for the next hour, being introduced to practically every guest present by her mother, who kept her hand on her back throughout as if she was showing her daughter off. Ellie felt like a piece of meat, being auctioned off to various charities that wanted her to become a patron. Kate was trying to get her to show an interest, tactically introducing her to charities she thought Ellie would be interested in.

The trouble was that Ellie wasn’t interested in any of them, not strongly enough to pick one as her first ever patronage. She liked horses, yes, but hadn’t had much time to ride whilst at school. Music was great, but the most musical related thinking she’d done recently was what to add to her studying playlist on Spotify.

It’s not like I’ve been allowed to go to a concert before, either.

She was only fifteen, and yet she was expected to be strongly supportive of a cause close to her heart, but what?

She’d tried to ask her mother about her friends, but all the talk of her future had drained her energy.

“Mum, I need to pee.” She whispered in her mother’s ear.

Kate gave her a squeeze and kissed her on the forehead. “All right, come right back poppet. Lots more people I want you to meet.”

Instead Ellie snuck her way out of the party, using the same arch way that her great grandparents had used hours before when they arrived. She knew that all eyes were on her anyway, including the cameras, so there wasn’t much point in sneaking, but she did so anyway. It wasn’t like anyone was going to stop her.

The atmosphere was much quieter outside the garden, with no guests milling around and just the caterers and staff busy carrying trays in and out of the party. They all gave her space, and didn’t complain when she picked a few cocktail sausages from a plate and dipped them in tomato sauce. She hadn’t eaten in hours and the hunger pains were hitting hard, only noticeable now that her anxiety had been lifted.

“We can get you a sandwich if you’d like, ma’am.” A freckle faced young woman told her. She was one of the masses of staff that had been hired to cater the party, and someone who seemed just as tired of the guests as Ellie was.

“Oh please! That’d be amazing.” Ellie gushed, wiping her mouth with her hand. Etiquette be damned, she just wanted to eat.

Ellie told the woman what she’d like, and while the other caterers gave her shifty looks, she quickly prepared a cheese toastie especially for Ellie.

“This feels like my first birthday present.” Ellie spoke with her mouth full, savouring the flavour. She’d almost forgotten what the whole party was for.

The woman frowned at her. Ellie immediately worried about how that came across, and so to not sound like a spoiled little girl she continued. “Fourteen birthdays before this, none have been as formal as this.”

Nice, Ellie.

The woman appeared slightly uncomfortable, unsure what to say. She smiled at Ellie as she enjoyed the sandwich, then finally spoke. “To be fair, this doesn’t feel like a fifteen-year old’s birthday party.”

“It doesn’t?” asked Ellie, wanting to hear the answer from somebody else.

“Nah, I’ve worked those too. Nothing like this.”

“What does this one feel like?”

“Kinda posh.” She spoke with a thick Geordie accent. “Fanciest gathering that I’ve worked.”

One of the woman’s colleagues came over, curtsied to Ellie, and took the woman aside. Ellie listened to their whispering, apparently the other servers thought that the woman was avoiding work to chat with celebs.

“I should get back.” The woman said, grabbing a tray of freshly cooked sausage rolls and rushing off.

“Thanks for the toastie!” Ellie yelled after her.

So, this is what her life had become. No longer having fun, joy filled birthday parties with friends and family. Instead having quiet, respectful ‘gatherings’ with a bunch of unfamiliar faces, which would get even more tightly controlled if Camilla was to be believed.

Ellie retreated further, wandering behind the catering trucks, past the hustle and bustle of the staff and guests that were leaving early. Occasionally she’d pass by a few guests she didn’t know who had left to find more secluded spots to escape the party, just as Ellie was doing. They bowed to her, tried to apologise and said they were “just about to head back inside.”

They all seemed to think she’d come out there to ruin their escape plans, and she rushed to reassure each one of them that that was not the case. They didn’t really believe her.

“We’re sorry, Your Highness.”

“Happy birthday, Your Highness.”

Grumpier than ever, she found her secret spot. It was a little space between the hedges that nobody knew about, just next to the woods and not far from the nearest river. It was the perfect place to hide from everyone at the party, even her family, all except the cameras. It was a good spot to have one of the CCTV cameras as, from up high, it offered a view of the whole garden. Ben also happened to know it was one of her spots.

She bent down, her knees rubbing in the dirt and no doubt muddying her dress. With a little testing of the hedges, she found the spot where the twigs weren’t so dense and pushed them aside, revealing a hole in the hedge that she could crawl through.

She made more noise than she normally did getting through the hole, all the twigs and leaves rustling as she squirmed past, a sad reminder that she wasn’t a little girl anymore. The sound of the party was still dominating her ears, yet even when she stopped moving to remove a branch that had caught on the sash of her dress, the rustling of bushes continued. Ellie listened closer, the sound wasn’t from anything she was touching. It was coming from her hiding spot.

She crawled faster, doing her best to be sneaky. The noise of the party helped mask her movements as the rustling up ahead hadn’t stopped, but now she could hear new noises. Soppy and sucking sounds, like two wet fruits being grinded and slapped against each other.

“Eugh” Ellie whispered. She watched as two guests sucked face in her favourite hiding spot, forever tainting it. This made her even more grumpy, but at the same time she couldn’t help but watch them.

Their faces were obscured, but the two sparkly dresses and sets of high heels made sure that whoever they were, it was going to be controversial. Ellie couldn’t stop herself from audibly gasping and interrupting the pair when one of them finally turned towards the light.

“Your Highness, uh, we’re so sorry.” Hailee Steinfeld said to her, blushing a deep crimson as she tried to fix her lipstick with one finger.

Dakota Fanning just smiled awkwardly, hiding her hands behind her back and bowing her head slightly. She let out a nervous giggle.

The two women towered over Ellie in their heels, but having them both nervous around her, seemingly unable to leave, was unsettling. Two of the biggest actresses in Hollywood caught making out in front of her, grown women, and yet they were apparently waiting for Ellie to relieve them.

“It’s okay.” Ellie finally said, remembering to say something. The two women visibly relaxed.

The last thing Ellie wanted to be in that moment was a Princess. She wanted to gossip. This was huge. An utter scandal, and at her own birthday party! Hailee was supposed to be with Jason from the Bass Boys, Dakota was apparently sworn off relationships forever.

Both women apologised again and made their escapes quickly. As soon as they were gone Ellie spun around, completely blown away by what she’d seen. She wanted to tell her friends, to laugh, to theorise, but nobody was there. She spun around again and then collapsed onto the floor, breathing heavily and realising how much she’d tightened up in front of them.

“That was huge!”

Ellie shot back up to her feet. Taylor Swift appeared from behind the hedges.

Is everyone sneaking through these hedges now? And is this why Taylor is always making headlines? Because she’s hiding behind the bushes during all the big scandals?

“You scared me.” Ellie clutched her chest, slowing down her breathing.

“Sorry, Your Highness.”

She’d had enough. Ellie’s mask slipped.

“Please don’t call me that. I don’t want to be called that. Not today” The words stuck in her throat.

Taylor stood there, watching for a moment while Ellie sat back down again. After a long awkward silence in which she could tell Taylor was debating whether to stay or go, her idol finally sat down next to her.

Ellie couldn’t speak, stunned by how surreal everything was. Sitting in seclusion, stars starting to appear in the sky whilst the party droned on behind them. Not to mention that star studded make out session. She had no doubt it was these sorts of moments that inspired a lot of Taylor’s songs.

Oh God. “You’re not going to write a song about this, are you?” Ellie asked.

Taylor laughed. “No, probably not. Hailee’s a friend.”

“You haven’t written about friends before?” Ellie probed.

“Well yeah, just not by name. Didn’t you ever listen to Bad Blood?”

“It’s one of my faves, I listened to it a lot when Alex stole one of my games.”

They both giggled. “That’s a valid reason.” Taylor nudged her arm.

“Cause now we got baaaaad blood, it used to be maaaaad love!” They sang it together.

The awkward silence came back as they sat together, listening to the party.

Taylor leaned back, her hands in the grass. Ellie could feel her eyeing her up from behind. “So, what do I call you, if not Your Highness? Gotta say I’m used to your cronies telling me to stick to the titles.”

“They’d also tell you to curtsey.” Ellie added.

“Do you want me to curtsey?” Taylor asked, moving to stand up.

“No, please don’t.” Ellie quickly put her hand on Taylor’s knee. A curtsey from her would ruin the day even more.

“All right.” Taylor sat back down, then edged closer to her. “So what can I call you?”

“Ellie’s fine.”

“Ellie, then.”

More awkward silence. Taylor watched her closely, then started rubbing her back in a caring, motherly sort of way. Ellie was in dreamland. Surely this was every Swifty’s dream.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Taylor asked.

Ellie could feel her emotions boiling over, tears gathering in her eyes. With all the fear and anxiety the party had caused her, now to top it all off was embarrassment. To be so emotional in front of a stranger was so foreign to her, so unbelievably different to how she normally was.

“I hate that I’m crying.” Ellie felt her skin warm up as she said the words.

“It’s okay to cry.” Taylor soothed her.

This is so weird.

“I just wanted a normal birthday party, okay.” Ellie struggled to explain herself, stuck between wanting help and not wanting to sound spoilt. “Instead this happened.”

“Not what you expected?”

“Sometimes a celebrity will be there, but its normally just friends and family. It’s never about work.”

“Nobody wants to work on their birthday.” Taylor gave her a comforting squeeze. “You know, I remember coming to your sixth birthday party a few years ago. You were adorable.”

“You were at my birthday?” Ellie asked, blown away once more.

“Yea-aaah.” Taylor told her, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Your dad and I did some karaoke together. He’s not a bad singer.”

“Ugh, don’t tell him that. He’ll be singing for days.”

They laughed together, making the tears roll down her cheeks. Ellie went to wipe them away but Taylor did it first. “Ellie, we’re friends, right?”

Ellie nodded eagerly. Yes, yes, yes!

“I know our lives are so, so… different, and the amount of pressure you must be under is just… insane. I see you every day in the news and you handle it so well, it’s inspiring.”

“Stop, you’ll make me cry even more.” Ellie pleaded.

Taylor pressed on. “I feel like I’ve gone through some of what you’re experiencing. This expectation to be someone for everyone, it’s tough to keep up. You’ve gotta have time to be yourself, have friends you can be yourself around.”

“They weren’t invited. Not classy enough.” Ellie said bitterly.

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

“It’s true, Mum didn’t invite them.” Ellie looked around, aiming to glare at her mother before realising that a dozen hedges blocked the way.

“The Kate I know wouldn’t do that.” Taylor told her, her eyebrow raised.

Ellie just shrugged and didn’t respond, her mood turning sour once more.

“When I was a lot younger, just starting out, I had to go to a lot of parties like this. Ones where I had to impress strangers, practically sell myself. It was stressful as hell and sometimes I just wanted to run away.”

“Sounds familiar.” Ellie said sarcastically.

“Sometimes I did run away.” Taylor shook her slightly, gazing intently at her. “Right out the front door. Just walked down the street for a bit, or found a nice place to sit and zone out. It was the best feeling in the world.”

Taylor stood up, then turned to Ellie and grabbed her hands to lift her up onto her feet as well. “I hear there’s a nice little river nearby.”

“Yeah, just through the woods.” Ellie pointed into the thick woodland, away from the party.

“Go on then.” Taylor urged her, a beaming smile on her face.

“Go on? What?” Ellie just stared at her, wide eyed.

“You need this Ellie, I’m looking out for you.” Taylor dragged her up to the edge of the woods.

“You’re serious?”

“I am!”

Ellie bounced on her heels, getting excited. Should she really do it? Just leave just like that?

And never come back?

Taylor kept urging her on, turning her to face the forest every time Ellie spun around in circles.

“Just go be yourself for a bit, breathe, have a nice walk. You’ll feel so much better.” Taylor nudged her forwards with a hand on the small of her back. “I promise.”

Ellie stood frozen as she felt Taylor step away, moving back towards the party. It was so exciting! She couldn’t think straight, her hands were trembling, her feet itching to move. She could sense Taylor a few steps behind her, watching, waiting.

Her ears perked up, a strange whirring noise high up above her brought her out of her reverie. She looked up, following the sound all the way up to the camera. It was staring right down at her, following her every move.

Fuck.

Ellie stared up at the camera, knowing exactly who was watching her. She could feel them politely asking her to return to the party, in that way that sounded like a suggestion but was most definitely an order. Ellie didn’t move. She felt guilty, but she wanted this, she needed this.

She mouthed the word please, then desperately looked to the woods, to freedom. The camera kept watching her, as if it was waiting her out. Expecting her to back down, but she didn’t want to.

“Please Ben.” She whispered. Surely he’d understand. He’d know she’d stay safe. Staying at the party was the more dangerous option.

#royal fanfiction #fanfiction #kate middleton #prince william #pofcroyalfanfiction #royals #british royal family #emma watson #creative #royalfanficcollection #royalfanficcentral

[katestestkitchen]

•• Go Slow •• “Travel changes you. As you move through this life and this world you change things slightly, you leave marks behind, however small. And in return, life — and travel — leaves marks on you. Most of the time, those marks — on your body or on your heart — are beautiful. Often though, they hurt.” – Anthony Bourdain The scars are real. They’re on my soul and on my heart. Some days they felt like machete lashings. They are some of the ugliest days of darkness I’ve ever experienced, laid out on a bathroom floor sobbing to god to allow me to find the right direction. There are marks however. They didn’t come in the form of any tattoos but they will be there for the rest of my life. They’re friendships that made this all something I could keep pushing through on the harder days. They’re sunsets that made me believe that the morning would bring a better day. They’re talks over coffee about what inspires me and fuels my need to get up each morning. These are the marks and scars that have made me a bigger and hopefully better person than I was 8 months ago. That’s the person I’m taking home. Travelling has always been a passion of mine. I’ve experienced many places in my life with loved ones around the world. From driving Highway 69 in Northern Ontario, to across the border through the south to North Carolina, and through Parisian cobblestone streets, I knew that travel would always be something I strived to make happen in my life. The main fuel of my adventures has always centered around food. Stopping for bubble gum ice cream in Parry Sound, roadside cheeseburgers in America and twice a day hunts (minimum) for a French patisserie with macaroons. Ask me if I remember the date, or even the time of year I touched down in a city around the world and I’ll spend hours wracking my brain. Ask me what we ate in the middle of Florence, or at a hidden spot up a few flights of stairs, down a long dark hallway and behind a big blue door in a beautiful, lush garden in Rhodes and I’ll ramble on and on about the amount of salt on the lamb leg or the shredded beet salad in house made yogurt that turned the dressing the brightest colour of fuscia you have ever seen. I was born to travel because I was born to eat. A few years ago I left my hometown for my first solo adventure though South America. I touched down in Buenos Aires to dive into Argentinian culture. $5 bottles of Malbec, steak that melts in your mouth and enough dulce de leche to give you type 2 diabetes. I was in heaven. I walked the streets from morning to night picking out where I would eat that day, or the following. I perused museums just to pass time before my next meal and sipped some of the finest wines in the world while attending tango shows at night. The trip continued in very much the same way through Mendoza for Italian food served up twice a day by my incredible hosts at “Antigua Residencia”, and steaks over wood fires in the mountains after sunset horseback riding. Over to Uruguay, my travel buddies and I lived off empanadas fresh off food carts while roaming the streets snuggling puppies, hoisting 30lb watermelons over our heads and listening to curbside Ska bands. Last but certainly not least, Santiago, Chile. Pisco sours, the last of the great, cheap wine and the least amount of sleep I had on the entire trip, my new hostel friends and I roamed the streets in search of Churro’s. I’ll never forget the look on my new friend, Naomi’s face, when I walked her right up to the back of someone’s van to purchase churro’s. She was horrified, sputtering out stressfully in her Australian accent that we’d definitely need our health insurance to cover what we were about to ingest. Those were the best damn churro’s I’ve ever had. Piping hot, covered in cinnamon sugar and dipped in a hazelnut chocolate sauce. She ended up eating hers and half of my own. I will never forget the look on her face. We had found the holy grail of churros and we would never experience that moment with anyone else again. We stayed up until sunrise, climbing bridges over rushing traffic, danced to the Backstreet Boys in a bass pounding nightclub, and I didn’t even feel the Pisco hangover the next day. I left that adventure knowing that nothing could stop me from ever finding that feeling again. When I left for Caye Caulker, Belize late last year I had the same feeling of excitement as I did when I left Chile. Hungry. Hungry for travel, a warm getaway and a life based completely on my own twists and turns. I didn’t know much about this tiny island aside from a hurricane splitting it in half in the 60’s and that it was VERY small but I was excited to learn how to “Go slow” and finally start making the time to sit and write every day. Plus, it was right next to Mexico, so, tacos. My writing is fuelled from the same place as my travel goals. I’m sure you’ve picked up on how much I love to be in the kitchen, in a restaurant, at a table, at a bar, outside a food cart….you get my drift. I was finally going to find the balance between my restaurant work and my writing to make the time to cook, eat out everywhere and be inspired by the locals. Unfortunately for me, Belize didn’t offer half the things that South America had for me. This is in no offense to the local food here, but it’s certainly not for me. The lobster (during lobster season) is the freshest and meatiest I’ve ever had. Outside of that, I’ve had rice and beans less than times I can count on my fingers, I’d be happy to never see another snapper fillet again and there’s a sincere lack of vegetables here outside of a few consistent ones (thank god for sweet peppers). There are plenty of influences here from other countries and lots of street food, but there are few restaurants that offer much of anything different from place to place. Grilled meat/fish, two sides, and two rum punches for the lucky price of $25BZ! If you’re looking for a budget friendly island to focus on diving, snorkelling or just getting drunk, this place is a gold mine. If you’re diving the Blue Hole all day (especially for the price that diving runs you) you’d be more than happy to see a plate of fried chicken with rice and beans at the end of your day. Right before you pass out. Well I don’t dive, and I wasn’t interested in the food. The writing stalled quickly, the only times I felt inspired was when I was missing home and scoured the island or close by cities for ingredients that reminded me of the Pacific Northwest. The restaurant work was exactly what I wanted. Packed with people from around the world every night with incredible stories to share from their sunburnt selves. The energy was high and I found myself more immersed in them than I was in anything local. It worsened once high season ended, the island cleared out and felt like a ghost town overnight. The time to write was NOW! But there was nothing for me, to write about. I knew my journey was coming to a close when I thought back on my time here and couldn’t tell myself of a time I had tasted anything here that lit up my eyes when it danced on my tongue or left me scraping my plate for any leftover drops of sauce. If I was going to immerse myself in all the shit that happened on this island and not get anything life changing to eat out of it then it was time to head on home. I think it’s important for me to say that this is not a judgement call on the people of Belize. This is the third world. The culture and priorities are very different. Minimum wage is $3.30 BZ ($1.65 US) and many people here work more than one job with plenty of mouths to feed at home. Food is a means to survive, not to indulge in for the majority of residents outside of big celebrations. Rice and beans are cheap and filling, imported goods don’t even grace the list of necessities. Locals are fighting to just make each day better for their families. I’m very blessed and privileged to come from Canada. I was brought up in a family that didn’t struggle to make ends meet, keep our laundry clean or a roof over our head. We had opportunities well into our adult lives that provided us with a feeling of complete safety and stability. This isn’t just a problem in Belize. This happens in every single city around the world. In pockets of forgotten neighbourhoods your very own neighbours, even if they aren’t living right next door to you, are struggling. It’s time for me to go home to Canada and help the people of my hometown, through food and community support. I want to cook, write, host, and experience more of what my own people are going through. I want to share their journeys and stories. There have been scars through this adventure, but one of the marks of the Belizean people is their support of the community. When one person’s house falls over, they have an offer to stay with their neighbour. When one family’s food runs out, there’s enough in the pot for them down the road. When someone is sick and can’t care for their family, there’s a Belizean mama across the way that’ll care for them. Caye Caulker IS community and the world NEEDS more of that. I doubt I’ve made much of a mark on this island but it’s certainly left its mark on me. A BIG thank you to everyone here who I’ve had the privilege of positive contact with. Your stories, struggles and successes have been sincerely inspiring. There are no words to explain how much you lifted me up each day when I was feeling low or much I loved jumping into having fun in the sun with you on a hyped up Monday Funday. Your island is beautiful and I’m proud to say I know so many people who are working so hard to make a difference in Belize. I wish you all well. Don’t say goodbye, just say so long. I’ll see you again soon on the dance floor at Sports Bar.

#katestestkitchen #katedoesbelize