#its snooze time lads

[monty-glasses-roxy]

Ya know, Roxy and Freddy not getting along and thus, not being very close at all would actually be really funny if Roxy is romantically involved with literally any of Freddy's friends. He only knows her as a rough, sarcastic, troublemaking, and antagonistic person that's completely full of herself, will bite anyone for fun and overconfident in her ability to get away with everything...

And now Chica or whoever is gushing about how sweet, adorable, loving and cuddly she can be. Like, is this the same Roxy they're talking about? Did he miss a meeting where they modified her programming or something? What the fuck are they talking about? How is this asshole dog the biggest softy he's ever heard of? Nah it must just be the love thing. They say love makes you crazy, this must be what they meant.

#fnaf security breach #roxanne wolf #glamrock freddy #freddy out here struggling with the idea that roxy the piece of shit can be NICE #okay maybe he can geg that bit since he has definitely seen her work with the kids before #as is a given in their lives #but roxy??? affectionate???? bullshit. #they're messing with him he's sure. #I'm tired right now and brain is soup but I'm pretty sure there's a reverse version of this too #it's probably just as funny #who knows #not me #its snooze time lads #goodnight

[thesilmarilchick]

The War of the Dead, Chapter 9: Nightmare in the Dark

The Fire’s come for you again, just like it always does in these dreams, only this time it doesn’t look like fire, looks like water or smoke or air. Almost like it can’t make up its mind what to look like, you prefer the dreams where it sticks to being fire.

It’s decided it wants to be water today and you want to scream but you can’t, the foul water is already filling your throat and your lungs. You can barely breath let along speak, so how are you supposed to scream?

The Water has begun whispering again. You think it might be talking to you but seeing as how you don’t speak any sort of Elvish, you have no real way of telling. You feel something cold and black wrap around your belly, you think they may be chains like the sort you saw hanging unused down at the Shirriff office. You’re not sure, but right now you don’t really care because you know what part of the dream comes next.

It’s the light that really scares you now, after so many dreams like this you’ve become desensitised to the other dangers around you, but the light well…the light always burns. 

You believe it might be trying to talk to you as well, but you’ve been down here too long by this point and you can’t hear it over the screaming in your head anymore. Your body’s gone numb by now, just like it always does round this part of the dream. It’s not yours no more, not your body anyway but it makes a pretty picture as a cage for your mind. The light’s still talking to you, but it doesn’t really matter ‘because you can’t understand one-word outta its mouth.

 You’d say it sounds a bit like some of those old poems Mister Bilbo reads you sometimes, though different, older and more unnerving. As if you just sat there and listened, you’d hear the forging of the worlds hidden between the glowing orb’s soft vowels and gentle words.  The language sweeps over you like always and you find the world growing dark, your vision failing and your surroundings growing blurred. You know what’s coming now, you’ve known it since the start but that doesn’t make it any less painful. That doesn’t make the knife any less terrifying when it plunges into your gut, or your blood any less vile as it spatters across your frozen face. Or your bed any less wet through when you wake up screaming.

Sam Gamgee bundled his sodden bed sheets up into the washing basket, he’d been lucky … no one had been woken by his screaming this time.

***

The Shire, Number 3 Bagshot Row; T.A. 2989, S.R. 1389; February 5th

Hamfast Gamgee was not having a particularly good morning; Sam-Lad had been up and about in the night again. Though the boy had attempted to hide it, Ham had caught on quick when he found the lad snoozing on his, now quite bare mattress – wrapped in naught but a thin wool blanket. The only covering that hadn’t been completely soaked after the lad’s dreams had turned sour and the child had been too afraid of punishment to risk finding more, even for his own comfort.

The tired hobbit had nudged the distraught boy awake and helped him into some dry clothes. Then they’d both set about the task of remaking Sam-Lad’s bed before the others could be woken by the sound of his soft crying. Bell had had one of her fits last week, a pretty bad one at that, and she was still recovering – she needed her sleep.  The two hobbits made quick work of the small bed and then retreated into the kitchen when the sounds of stirring from the other rooms caught their ears. 

Bell was getting worse, Ham mused as he stirred the large porridge pot over the fire, this had been the fifth fit in almost a month and they were getting more and more disturbing each time they happened. She’d been spitting and cursing his name during the last one, they’d had to call healers just to stop her from hurting herself… or anyone else.

‘I think it’s done, Da.’ Hamfast jerked from his thoughts of his wife, and glanced down to his youngest son, who was now staring intently into the bubbling pot of goo. Ham grimaced when he stuck his pinkie into the gurgling depths and brought it to his mouth, it tasted of nothing but burnt oats. They should just throw it out, but Sam was already starting to get fidgety with hunger and truthfully Ham wasn’t far behind him. So, sighing inwardly he motioned for Sam-lad and young Marigold, who’d appeared like a ghost from her bedroom sometime after Ham had turned his back, to bring their bowls forward. Even burnt porridge in their bellies was better than nothing at all. 

***

Two hours later

For as long as Hamfast could remember he had been… well…. I suppose the only way to describe it is to give it its proper title…he had been a Ganyman. For those of you not of a Hobbit nature I will describe, to the best of my ability, exactly what that is.  For those of you who are I will assume, that unless your education was extremely limited regarding your cultural identity, that you already know.

To put it in the simplest of terms, the Ganyman (or Ganymen as is the plural) is the bridge between life and death. Or rather between the living and the departed. They are the givers of the last tale and are able, if truly needed, to cut the string that ties a soul to this earthly plain.

It is said, by some of the more superstitious folk, that when a Ganyman is about to be born a crow will fly into their mother’s birthing chamber and circle the room until the baby is born. Then the bird will land… dead …at the infant’s feet. It was of course complete nonsense, not least because birthing chambers as a rule were kept tightly sealed from all outwardly distractions. Which would include open windows and birds flying about the place, as any hobbit midwife or healer with a lick of sense could tell you.  And while it was true that some of the skills needed to be a proper Ganyman were innate from birth, it still required a great deal of training to probably harness them. And not every babe born with a psychic gift was going to be up to be a Ganyman, even if they had a strong connection to the other side. 

For Ganymen were at their hearts… storytellers.

Which brings us to the core of the matter, the reason for the Ganymen’s entire existence as a people: The Last Tale. Legend goes that if the last words a hobbit ever speaks in this waking world is their deepest secret, then they’ll live on through the telling of its tale and thus their soul will not fade into nothingness. It was an ancient hobbit custom set down in the days before days. Before the wandering years, before Mirkwood, before the three clans, before Mother Magda and her Blarney Son, even before hobbits knew they were hobbits. Some say it was a tradition started by the ancestors, the ones who came before. But no one could say for certain, because strictly speaking no one - except perhaps the Ganymen themselves - could even say what the ancestors were, they simply lived too long ago.

Times back a Ganyman would be called to every hobbit’s deathbed, rich or poor, cruel or gentle, but in later years they’d fallen out of favour…among the gentlefolk anyway. After Bullroarer Took’s famous last words of ‘I don’t need a Ganyman to tell my stories’, the powerful family had dropped the age-old tradition as if it was so much childish nonsense.  And whether they wanted to admit it or not, wherever the Tooks lead the other well-to-do families would follow. Which was why the message from Mistress Proudfoot was so very strange, by rights the Proudfoots weren’t the richest of families, but they were still well off enough to call themselves gentlefolk. 

But now wasn’t the time to worry about such oddities, right now Ham had a duty to a hobbit on his deathbed. 

He’d debated leaving Sam-lad and Little Marigold at home, but eventually decided against it. Even if they never developed a call to it, which considering Bell’s once grounded nature was more than likely, it was still good for a youngin’ too see Gany-work at least once in their lives, without the fog of loss and grief getting in the way.

The Proudfoots’ smial – for no self-respecting gentlefolk would live in anything else – while undoubtedly fine as smials go, was not half so grand as Bagend. The lamps were already lit inside the round windows when the three of them reached it and Ham knocked tentatively on the large red door, his Ganyman Staff clutched tightly to his breast. The round door creaked open and a large weathered face poked out, frowning at them over its long-crooked nose. 

‘Yes?’

Ham steeled his shoulders, not in a mood to be waylaid from his duty and the dying hobbit inside by disapproving relatives

‘I’m the Ganyman, the Mistress of this house called for me…please let me in.’ The old hobbit snorted but moved back just enough for the trio to squeeze past. Once inside Hamfast’s eyes by passed the specifics of his surroundings, and instead landed directly on the door farthest to the right. He felt the familiar tug in the middle of his chest, and knew where his charge lay.

***

One hour later

By the time Hamfast had arrived at the dying hobbit’s bed, the patient was already in the middle of his death-throws; so, it hadn’t been the easiest of Last Tales to acquire…but then again, his patient this time was still technically living, so it hadn’t exactly been the hardest either.

The Hysterical soon-to-be-widow shrieking at his side hadn’t made the situation any simpler. He needed quiet to work, and he needed it now – unfortunately that meant he had to be a bit callous. He hadn’t exactly thrown the grieving Mistress out of her husband’s death-chamber, but his suggestion had been strong enough to mistake it for so. 

Once she’d removed herself from the chamber, black streaks of makeup blotching her cheeks and a half-chocked sob concealed within her throat, Hamfast had been able to get down to work at last. If this was an ordinary run-of-the-mill Last Tale then right about then Hamfast would have been restraining the patient’s arms, he might have even let her stay to watch, but something deep in his gut told him this had to be done now. 

Climbing up onto the bed, Hamfast straddled the old hobbit, pinning him down firmly onto the mattress with his own quite sizable weight. The Ganyman’s fingertips pressed into the old hobbit’s temple, and the death throws seem to still and freeze in place. It was said that the final words of a hobbit were his Last Tale, but of course, as any good Ganyman knew, words didn’t have to be spoken out loud. Which was a good thing, when the patient was a far gone as old Proudfoot was.

The Tale floated through Proudfoot’s dementia-addled mind and into the Ganyman’s. Hamfast saw each detail as it happened, as if he were in the story, living it right here and there. What seemed like years, decades even, to the two hobbits on the bed was barely a minute in the world beyond and with a cry like a wounded Eagle, Ham flopped backwards off the bed and began to sob.

***

When a Hobbit soul gives up its Last Tale, it moves on to the world beyond, into the Ancestor’s Caverns, where not even a Ganyman can properly enter. Leaving not but a whisper of its past self to continue through the story that the Ganyman will tell, but Faldo Proudfoot…did not do that.

Oh, he gave up his Last Tale to the Ganyman, every horrifying bit of it, but as for moving onto the world beyond…well…that he did not do. Or at least so it would appear to the still gasping Ganyman now lying on the old hobbit’s floor. For you see…Faldo Proudfoot’s body was still very much breathing when Hamfast Gamgee shakily climbed to his feet.  

Hamfast could have been sure that Proudfoot’s spirit had passed over. Nay he was sure, he’d felt the body go limp with the spirit’s absence himself. Yet Proudfoot was undeniably alive, of that little the Ganyman could be certain of. Laying his hand on the withered chest, Hamfast spoke in soft low voice.

‘Master Proudfoot? Are you there, Master Proudfoot? You’ve given me your Last Tale you can move on now; you won’t be forgotten while I breathe good master, I can promise you that.’

As the Ganyman spoke the old master’s chest shook in an unrhythmic fashion, it was as if something was forcing the old chest to move up and down against its will. Suddenly Faldo Proudfoot’s hand lashed out and struck the Ganyman where he knelt by the bed, sending the other hobbit careening across the floor and smack right into the adjoining wall. And as Ganyman Gamgee began to slip into unconsciousness, his eyes beheld the horrific sight of Faldo Proudfoot’s body, standing up from his death-bed and walking out the door.

***

Middle-Earth, South Lands (or The Dark Land to the heathens of the West), The Yellow Mountains: T.A. 2989

It is a strange land the Great Wizard has led them to, not cold or boiling as the rumours had led them to believe – but strange none the less. The whole place feels…calm, as no mountain should. For mountains, whether their bellies be filled with fire or not, are grand monuments to the gods. Left here by the giants that had made them, or at least that was what Akunosh’s nursemaid had always told him when she was tucking him into bed at night. But then the Nursemaid had been of the lower classes; his father, a man of wealth and education, might have said something different. Akunosh didn’t know, but all the same he couldn’t help the feeling of disappointment as he climbed the steady slopes of the Yellow Mountain. There was nothing particular awe-inspiring about sun-bleached rocks, or scrabbly blades of grass and for a boy of fifteen – who had joined the Blue Wizard’s cause to seek adventure, that was a terrible blow indeed.

Still, seeing a Silmaril might make up for it. He hoped anyway, he’d never seen one before, so it wasn’t like he had anything to base it on. For all Akunosh knew it could be just as dull as the mountain… and that was the moment when they saw the body.

Small, but clearly not a child – the thing had been wrapped up in a multi-coloured shawl and then just left out on the rocks. Probably for more than a couple of days giving the smell of the thing. More than a few of the younger recruits hurried away from the sight; and even a couple of the older soldiers screwed up their noses. But Akunosh stopped by the body and let himself fall behind. Then, when he was entirely certain that no one was looking at him, he knelt by the strangely wrapped thing and stared at her face.  

She was old, her shrived face, raisin like to look upon, baked by the sun now scorching his back. Slowly he pushed back the shawl from her face, her hair was still black even despite her clear age…but it was not that that Akunosh stared at, it was her ears. They were small like the rest of her, small and …pointed, he’d never seen such strange ears before, they weren’t the ears of men.

His Nurse had told him many stories as she tucked him into bed at night, but always his favourite had been the stories of the Halflings. Small creatures who belonged to no god of the west – sometimes in the tales they were kind, and helped travellers when they were lost; but other times they were wicked. Tricking the big Folks into wondering off the path and drowning, but whatever they were, friend or foe, good or evil, they had always captivated Akunosh. And they were here, they were real…and they were the people they had been sent to slay.

Up the mountain he could already hear the screams, and felt himself begin to shake.

#the hobbit #fanfiction #lord of the rings #fanfic #the silmarillion #the lord of the rings

[theretirementstory]

Bonjour et bienvenue from a cloudy Bar-sur-Aube. The temperature is currently 3c and I am hoping for clearer skies and an increase in the temperature…….. where would we be without hope!

It has been rather cold this week, thank goodness I wasn’t gallivanting. Of course, I still had my daily walks to do and to be honest I didn’t venture far, usually to the bar for a hot drink, some company and then back home as quickly as possible. Goodness knows why, but I have also been snoozing in the chair on an afternoon 🙄.

We have left February behind and March has stormed into our lives. My poem this week is by William Wordsworth, here is the excerpt from “Lines Written in Early Spring”

“Through primrose tufts, in that green bower,

The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;

And ’tis my faith that every flower

Enjoys the air it breathes.”

My primroses have been flowering for a few weeks and the periwinkles are indeed wreathing across the ground.

My “little lady” comes to clean once a week and we enjoy our chats in “franglais”. She loves Inspector Barnaby or as it is known in the UK, Midsomer Murders. She tells me she prefers John Nettles to Neil Dudgeon (I hope it’s not because Dudgeon is a Yorkshire lad!) and gives me lots of info about Nettles (which I may have known in a previous life).

The knitting group met and my new found friend, Claudine, was there this time. It was an enjoyable time and The President of the association (whose wife attends the group) came in about 4.15 to prepare “Le gouter”. Now under the old regime it wasn’t “tidy up time” until 4.30 then we scoffed our gateau and drank our juice and left. I must admit it was a much more relaxed atmosphere starting earlier and during our chat I found out more about the President and his wife, than I have in the previous five years.

The new plumber emailed to ask if he could start the work this coming week, of course, I said yes, if only to get the new siphon fitted and get rid of the stench! He is coming at 8am in the morning 😳, my goodness I will need three or more alarms going off to get me out of bed, washed and dressed before then! I have also been notified by the Town Hall that there will be cuts to water on Monday for work in the system, now I was notified a few weeks ago about this but it didn’t affect me at all, so fingers crossed the same is true now.

Anie is away, staying in a gîte near to Toulouse. It was her nephews wedding yesterday, I hope it was a lovely day for them all.

I am going to the cinema this evening, to see “Emmett Till”, I read the blurb about it and thought it would make a change. I do so enjoy having the cinema in town, it’s so easy to go into alone (a lot of people do) all I hope is I don’t fall asleep (as I usually do 😂).

I finished knitting another two infants hats and two pairs of bootees, I put them together with the other three hats and pair of bootees and took them to the collection point for Turkish and Syrian earthquake victims. The men in the collection point were so appreciative of my small donation. I had missed the first consignment which is currently being delivered but there were other items which had been donated so it looks as if another delivery will take place.

Someone told me that snow is forecast from Tuesday onwards, I am keeping my fingers crossed that that is not the case. Météo is showing rain, now that I can cope with.

My fixed rate for gas ends on 31 March and looking at the new options for fixing 😳, I will wait to see if April brings any lower figures. I also remember an email arriving which said how much it would cost for three months April to July, I need to check the amount for that so that it is a fair comparison. Golly I hate all of this checking, fixing etc why can’t gas be charged to every household at one fair price?

I am preparing a lot of “stuff” to be taken to the decheterie. I won’t get there tomorrow as apart from the plumber arriving, I have an appointment with the dietician. I am hoping against hope that I am very close to my target weight.

I was a little late rising this morning, and surprised myself with what I achieved in an hour. I have meat cooking in the slow-cooker so will have my Sunday Lunch around 2pm, then when I return from the cinema I can make a sandwich and eat my days supply of fruit.

I watched an interesting programme last evening on plastic sandals. Now I remember having plastic sandals as a young girl, they were perfect on sand, you could go in the sea in them, just wonderful. One of the reasons they fell out of favour was because they were classed as “poor peoples footwear” this was true not only in “wealthier European countries” but also in African and Asian countries where they had been particularly popular for dealing with monsoon rains. Although this programme was in French I found it very informative. Plastic sandals are still made, some branded “Medusa” sandals, produced here in France.

Oh yes, spotted in the newspaper this week, the Venise-Simplon-Orient-Express made a stop at Troyes station and rail enthusiasts were quick to admire this bygone luxury. I wish I had known it was going to make an appearance, I could have been one of those admirers.

Now, I really must have a coffee and see to another few jobs.

Jusqu’à semaine prochaine.

#barsuraube #trees #nature #photography #crafts #troyes #orient express

[inkyquince]

im fisting fighting my brain. Im screaming. Because its 1:30am in Germany and i have to get up early BUT ITS ROUND ??? OF HORNY HAZY THOUGHTS

House!Spouse Reader that unfortunately caught a few lads' eye.

You married a bit too young, to your first ever sweetheart. It was cute. The dating, the proposal, the wedding, your entire relationship was.... Cute. You were barely 20 when they asked you to marry them and dumb little you agreed. Because despite feeling restless in the relationship already, you weren't about to break it off because you were feeling a little bit listless! Where does that leave you? Bored. Planning the baby's room despite nothing being decided yet, your spouse out all day working to pay off the monumental mortgage, just cleaning and shopping and cooking and lying awake in the darkness of your room as your spouse snoozes besides you. You were lonely. But you weren't a bad person... Were you?

content warning. Cucking and cheating with an unnamed spouse, blackmail, kidnapping, jealousy, mentions of forced prostitution, harper being a bad doctor.

Whitney liked two things. Dominating people, and people telling him he couldn't have something. The latter one more or less had him smugly proving who ever told him that dead wrong, stealing or assaulting people but this time the taste being denied from him was sweeter than what he was used to. He had noticed you, just a few years above him when he started this shit school, always canoodling with that stupid fucking bitch you were with. Yeah, you were nice to look at but honestly, Whitney had other things to deal with, like becoming the menace of the year and making the old Sports teacher quit in anger.

But... Woah. Whitney had just been fucking around at the shopping center, nothing that bad but they happened to look down from the second floor and... Shitting hell, was that you? Kinda demure, gently swinging a basket of groceries as you looked briefly into the pet shop before heading for the exit. The bland looking wedding ring was easy to spot but there was something else that made Whitney's brain buzz. The skittish look around, the pretty eyes, the apology that tumbled from your lips when you bumped into someone. You itched his brain so nicely.

So, yes, you were surprised when the ratty kid you barely remember showed up on your doorstep, hovering to mow your lawn. You frown at him but promise him £15 for doing so. He's delighted. Delighted and stripping his shirt off to do it. Anyone who knows Whitney from school that passes your house has to stare. Maybe his mom made him do it as a favor to her friend? Whitney threatens to drag them over the fence and stuff their head in-between the blades if they don't scram, so of course they do. Doesn't hurt that you open the window and tell him to come inside- shoes off first. You get him a cool glass of lemonade and a plate of cookies, and Whitney smugly thinks that despite no shoes, no shirt, he is still getting one hell of a service. Definitely wants to give you the full Whitney service. One stray hand slipped between your thighs and you're waving him off, out of your house, flustered. You forgot to pay him but he doesn't mind. Mainly because the two of you stay in touch.

Whitney thinks its cute that when he sends you a drunk selfie, you fuss over him and send him a taxi to get him home. Insists he studies better. Let him indulge in your cooking when your spouse is running late. You're just so fucking cute to him, and Whitney has discovered a new taste for lonely house spouses.

He hits on you and you stare at him and tell him off. As if you're not in sync with the other drooling pervs in this town. Tells him that he's still has his final year in school and you're married and Whitney smirks and eats another cookie. You insists he stops flirting and he flatly tells you not to get your hopes up.

He does win the long game. He can hear your spouse moving around downstairs as you whine and choke around his cock in your shared bathroom. Whitney likes the fact that you stay in the house to take care of it for your husband, but that means Whitney knows exactly where you are all day, so he can easily ditch, and you can switch your attention from the house to him. Bored married ass feels amazing around his dick, and Whitney idly wonders if your spouse would try to throw him out if they found him thrusting into you. Maybe he should plan a little Halloween event to make sure that your partner wouldn't dare to. Scare them a bit and fuck you in front of them to make them realize that your hole belongs a delinquent.

Bailey... Likes being paid on time. Your partner usually pays on time. What for? Does it even sound like its your business? However, he is grateful for the day your spouse doesn't make the money drop and he gets to march over to your white picket fence perfect house and hammer at your door. Mainly because you look very cute in your pajamas, peering at him. Oh, your spouse didn't give him the money? You take an obvious moment to think on what to do, but you're... Definitely not from here because you quietly let him in to wait in the hallway as you scour the house for the envelope of notes that belong to Bailey. The look on your partner's face is priceless too to be fair, as they spot him lazing in the kitchen chair, stirring the tea you made him slowly. No doubt you're going to get an earful but the two of you finally find the clip of money your partner forgot to hand over.

Bailey gets to give you a proper one over when your spouse is apologizing to him. You're young, obviously so, and married. Probably a young married couple still living in that bubble that if the two of you just stick together, you'll make it through anything. It's sweet, but Bailey always was that kid with the magnifying glass, sitting by the ant hill. He does like watching stupid sentimental notions and optimism go up in flames. It does help that you're very cute.

So, Bailey adds interest to the amount due to him for the hours he had to wait for his money. The two of you exchange a glance, worried, no doubt you're barely living comfortable as you want to be, and Bailey isn't known for keeping his interest rate low.

So he consoles them. Don't worry, it would be easy to pay off. Your partner's face brightens and Bailey delivers the killing blow. Your spouse can just open their legs for me, and I'll waive the interest.

You're a supportive partner. So only after a bit of arguing, Bailey greedily fucks into you on your marriage bed. Your spouse isn't invited to be there, but just a few strokes of his cock has you forgetting them anyway. After, from your quivering, it seems like its been a while since you got some. He makes sure the headboard smacking against the wall and your moans are enough to make sure to let them know that your marriage won't really be the same after this.

After all, why would normalcy ever return if Bailey uses your money problems to slip through the front door and make his way upstairs to rut into you. Doubly so when he stops all excuses, and just offers a smirk when he comes in. You're his cute little fuck toy now, your hole belongs to him, which no doubt makes it a little bit stiff to talk to each other in the evenings after he leaves.

Though, he thinks, as he strips the condom off and lets his cum drip onto the carpet when he lazily throws it vaguely at the bin. It's a shame he can't make you carry a brat of his own. Now, that, would be the cherry on top.

Gonna expand on the following ideas later, but basically:

-Landry being your friend that you met at the pub, and he enjoys the fact he has a normal friend in life, until he slowly grows to loathe your spouse more and more, just because they were the one to marry you before he could. Takes you into the backroom and treats you to a loving fuck.

-Leighton remembers his cutest student, so unaware to his perverted ways, despite having lewd changing room and spanking photos of you. Loves the fact that you're living the white picket fence life and mocks you, that if you wanted to live that life, you could have told him and he'd have made you his pretty younger wife whom all of his friends look down upon as a gold digger.

- Briar likes his customers until they stop paying him. Your spouse has one or two nights of weakness and can't pay Briar for his workers' time. So, Briar was about to whore them or you out to the brothel crowd... But you're incredibly soft and cute. Briar makes your spouse watch as he fucks you, bluntly telling you that your life companion has cheated on you, so you should be thanking Briar for getting back at him.

- Kylar becomes obsessed. You're... So nice. Aprons and garden gloves and a nice smile, and you patch him up after Whitney roughs him up badly. Hates your spouse, always hysterical around them, plans on you divorcing them to marry him instead, maybe killing them just in case. Loves your soft touch and warmth, especially since his peers treat him so badly.

- You see Harper when your normal marriage counsellor is out. They're too busy for you and you're miserable so your spouse drags you to counselling. And Harper thinks you're just too cute to be all alone in that house. You slowly start to like Harper and he makes himself your primary GP. Gets to examine you and can't help but get excited. Does rely on sedatives for the time he gets to spend pressing into you. He's helping you! Harper fucks the sexual frustration out of you so your marriage can carry on so nicely!

- Bailey finds out about you, that your partner is in debt, so describes you to Eden. Eden wants house mouse. Kidnaps you for his own cabin. Boom bam, his spouse now.

- Sirris, your old science teacher runs into you as you're shopping and you two catch up! Can't help but notice how... Parental you've become. How you like looking after the house and your partner. His stomach flips when he thinks about Sydney benefitting from your care, that their house might actually look a bit nicer, that Sirris would be able to press against you after a long day and- Woah, okay, Boner in public place. You were always his favourite but now? Yes, he feels guilty, but... Having a friendship with an ex-student should be okay now right? Maybe not, since you two are too attracted to each other on a night meant for catch up drinks, Sirris hungrily kissing you when the two of you have sipped a bit too much. He does want you to divorce your husband and remarry them. Who cares if its a bad look for you, divorced and married to your old teacher, you're such a perfect little thing.

Kofi

AO3

Masterlist

#dol #nsft #quincewrites #whitney the bully #bailey the caretaker #sirris the science teacher #eden the hunter #harper the doctor #kylar the loner #briar the brothel owner #leighton the headmaster #landry the criminal #degrees of lewdity #hey inky its 3am and you should sleep #fuuuuuuuckofff iM HAVING THOUGHTS #LOVE YALL #house spouse

[oliwas]

GUESS WHAT SIR I AM ALIVE once you get on tumblr you never leave tumblr

i have been creeping and liking stuff casually for the past two years while being inactive and damn i lowkey miss the old tumblr vibes from 5-6 years ago even tho mostly nothing changed

and yeah man a lot has changed from last year and tbh im doing ✨splendidly✨ if i do say so myself

its always nice to see you are active here even if its just for a little while~ seeing your message brigtened up my day instantly and i hope you had an amazing day too ♥️

and dw you dont have to respond to the ask i just wanted to let you know whats up and check up on you too

i missed u man if we find the time we gotta catch up on whatever the hell was going in the past however many years lmaoo

have a great day love ya to bits ♥️♥️♥️

/BigFknPos (only strong positive tone in this house o7)

PS. even tho we didnt talk for a LOONG time we still ended up in the same fandoms again life is fkn scripted i swear

DUDE I GOT SO HAPPY TO READ THIS AND I DIDN'T KNEW HOW TO ANSWER BUT I AM GLAD TO KNOW ABOUT U AND HOW U DOING💖💖💖💖💖

AND I MISSED U TOO, the other day me and toby were talking about u how great memories we had with u and the draw we hold so dear about our sonas snoozing that u made <3 LIKE WE WERE TALKING ABOUT NOSTALGIA AND SUCH AND IS SUCH NICE MEMORY OUR EARLY DAYS <3

ALSO WE DO HAVE TO CATCH UO ONE DAY ALSO LOVE YA TOO LAD, YOU WILL ALWAYS BE A FRIEND OF MINE,✨✨✨

ALSO WE GOTTA TALK ABOUT THE FANDOMS WE ARE IN, I LOVE HEARING PEOPLE RAMBLING AND I ALSO RAMBLE TOO FJXNZZN

#ask #FRIEND!!!!! #OLD FRIEND <333

[vannahfanfics]

Before you read, here’s the previous chapter.

Skyward

Ao3

Chapter 1: Earthbound, Heavensent

The brake lever squealed as Katsuki yanked it hard, a toothpick clenched between his teeth as he cast a look at the elevator. The ancient metalwork shuddered and groaned as it came to a screeching stop within the shaft, its rusted top barely brushing the jagged top of the stone roof. I keep tellin’ the old man that damn elevator is too ancient! Katsuki thought bitterly, leaning back in the torn cloth stool on which he was perched. The wire elevator door squeaked as the miners wrenched it open; the mine cart was even squeakier as they wheeled it in across the coal dust-covered metal tracks. Katsuki crossed his arms as he squinted at their haul. 

“What do we have?” Vlad grunted as he crossed the rocky mine, a massive wrench hefted on his shoulder. He didn’t wait for his workers to answer, plucking up a black slab of stone to inspect it critically. “Coal again, huh? The market’s becoming saturated with the stuff… If we don’t start finding something more valuable, then we’ll be out of business.” He tossed the coal back into the cart. The men looked defeated as they pushed it away, preparing to unload it alongside the mountains of coal they’d already mined that day. 

Vlad strolled to a large wheel attached to the machinery lining the blue stone walls. He gripped it with his gloved hands, grunted as he turned the rust-covered wheel to shut down the mine workings for the day. The pipes overhead squealed and shuddered and groaned as high-pressure steam changed course within their bowels. Just as Katsuki was slipping down from the stool, a pipe released a high-pitched whine and began to swell up, bulging with building-up steam. 

“Boss!” he exclaimed, and as Vlad whipped around with narrowed eyes, the pipe aneurysm burst. “Damn it!” Katsuki cried as hot steam gushed from the open pipe just mere inches from him. The heat bloomed across his forearm and legs, the water vapor hissing against the cloth of his overalls and white cotton shirt. Somehow he managed to avoid being scalded as he scurried to the nearest bypass valve. “This damn mine is gonna be the death of us, not the market!” he yelled over the wailing steam. 

As he closed off the pipe, it shifting the steam pressure to another path. The stream of vapor rapidly dwindled until only condensed water dripped from the jagged-edged hole in the metal. Katsuki sniffed in disdain, rolling the toothpick around in his teeth. Vlad only growled at the busted pipes and pulled the brim of his hat down over his blood-red eyes. 

“If this keeps up, we’ll all be starving soon,” he mumbled. He tapped the wrench against his broad shoulder with a small sigh, then lifted his hat to look at Katsuki. “All right, lad, your turn to lock up for the night. Go grab yourself some grub first; I know you skipped lunch today to repair the elevator.” 

“Yeah, only on your orders, old man!” Katsuki retorted snidely, trying to retain his pride as his stomach yowled and scratched within his belly. His mouth twitched in discomfort as the beast of hunger raged inside him. It would be a pain to trek to the village, even if it was ten minutes or so, but… he could really go for some meatballs about now. His boss tossed his head invitingly, indicating for Katsuki to follow the miners on their departure. Snorting, Katsuki grabbed his bag and stomped after them. 

“You should be ashamed of yourself, leavin’ a kid like me to lock up the mine,'' he huffed as he tromped alongside the large man. “What if I get eaten by wolves, huh?” 

“You, eaten by wolves?” Vlad laughed, tilting back his head as he guffawed. “I’d be more concerned about you eating them !” 

“Come on, now, I ain’t some beast !” 

“Are ya sure? You’re pretty beastly to me, youngun,” Vlad teased and threw a burly arm around his neck to yank him close. Katsuki snarled as his nose was pressed right into his sweaty armpit, dank with sweat and toil and the tang of coal dust. As Katsuki squirmed around, bleating to be released, Vlad continued to chortle and dug his knuckles into his scalp, mussing up his ash-blond hair. 

“Fuck off, ya old geezer!” Katsuki finally managed to yank his head away and sucked down a breath of fresh air, relishing the taste of dew and earth replacing the musty sweat of Vlad’s armpit. “ You’re the beast! You smell like a dump; you go home to yer wife smellin’ like that?” 

“At least I have a wife,” Vlad grinned. Katsuki flushed in anger and looked away; a few paces away, fellow mine worker Tetsutetsu— and the only one around Katsuki’s age— was regaling an older gentleman about his lovely wife Mina who was cooking his favorite dish that night. Katsuki wasn’t exactly jealous or anything; why the hell should he be concerned about things like that? Still, it did get lonely, living by himself in his house on the hill. 

“Fuck off,” Katsuki repeated. His quiet tone made Vlad hum thoughtfully and gave him the sense not to push the issue further. Katsuki wasn’t jealous or anything, not at all. He just lived his life, working in the mine and trekking back to his shack on the hill— day in, day out, all by his lonesome. 

Katsuki stopped at the general store in the middle of town, while Vlad and the other workers continued on, trundling home to their wives and families. Katsuki’s expression was pensive as he quietly ordered some meatballs from the young woman manning the counter; though the place was mostly a general store, the old woman who owned the place also had a little to-go diner set up in the corner, mostly because the miners trekked by on both their morning and evening commutes. The woman filled a metal thermos with steaming, sauce-coated meatballs and he fished out some crumpled bills to pay. 

As he walked the path he came, he used his fingers to fish out some of the meatballs. He popped them into his mouth, silently chewing with lidded eyes. His footsteps crunched on the dirt path, echoing through the fields flanking him on either side. His only accompaniment was his shadow, bobbing alongside him as the bright white moon cast him in its gentle light. He actually did hear a coyote howl in the distance, making him look into the hills with a slight shudder. As he did, he caught a glint of pink light in his peripheral vision. 

“What the…?” He stopped on the path as he squinted at the strange pink light twinkling in the inky black sky. He could almost mistake it for a star, except it was slowly descending to earth. 

“It’s heading toward the mine!” He took off down the path, ignoring the canteen of meatballs swinging against his thigh. He was too concerned with getting to the strange, slowly falling star dropping towards the mine. The pink glow grew brighter and brighter, flickering like a soft flame. 

Within, he thought he could see… a body? 

“Is that a person ?” he exclaimed in disbelief. Finally, he came to the scaffolding overlooking the large shaft leading down into the mine. The glow was heading downwards, towards the center. He slammed his meatballs down, cursing as they fell over and sent sauce spilling across the wood; he hurriedly righted it, cursing again as it scalded his skin, and looked back to the strange falling person. 

He could see clearly now; it was a girl in a white nightgown, the fabric and her short-cut chestnut hair gently fluttering as ribbons of pink magic streamed around her. She drifted down over the large platform holding the winch, so Katsuki scrambled up the rickety steps on all fours to clamber like a beast across the platform. He stood up on the edge, panting slightly from his feverish dash, and held out his arms. 

The girl gently floated down, the wisps of rose-colored magic swirling around her like water. It tickled his skin as it flickered around him, and it was cool like water, too. It rose goosebumps on his skin as it rippled over his arms, soon joined by the soft kiss of her cotton nightgown. She suspended over his touch for a second, the magic swirling around them like a storm, before it slowly retracted into the glittering gemstone pendant hovering above her neck. 

“Whoa…” he murmured, his red eyes reflecting the beautiful coral of the pendant. It has a gold insignia painted on its round surface. As the light retreated within its translucent surface, the girl stopped hovering and flopped down into his arms. The sudden weight shocked him, bringing him to his knees. He groaned as he just barely held himself in a crouch, arms straining to keep the girl from plummeting out of his grip and into the mineshaft below. He crab-walked his way away from the edge, hefting her over the edge of the platform and gently laying her down.  

“Damn, girl,” he huffed while rubbing his burning muscles. “You couldn’t have drifted a few feet left?” He crossed his legs underneath him as he caught his breath, looking down to inspect the strange girl that had fallen from the sky. 

His eyes slowly drifted up to the sleeping girl’s face, and he drew in a sharp breath, because this time he didn’t even have words to express the beauty his eyes beheld. She looked so peaceful as she slept, her plump lips slightly parted as she breathed slowly. Her short brown hair framed her face, which was pale despite her rosy cheeks. He reached out to stroke his knuckles across the soft skin of her cheek in a featherlight touch; she felt cold, and he wondered how far from the sky she’d fallen if the chill of the atmosphere had seeped into her skin. 

“Just where did you come from?” he murmured. She dozed on, her chest rising and falling with unlabored breaths. He grabbed a nearby blanket, inspecting it for grease stains as he unfolded it, before gently laying it over her snoozing form. He pulled back the blanket a little to peer at her strange necklace, but it just gleamed typically in the moonlight, showing no hint of the strange magical power at play just a few moments before. “Strange…” he said aloud before covering her again, tucking the blanket under her chin. 

He still had to close the mine. Grabbing his forgotten meatballs, he got up and piled almost all of them in his mouth by the time he made it down the stairs. His cheeks bulged like a chipmunk as he began cleaning up the mine. Every so often he glanced up at the platform, but the mysterious girl slept on, peacefully unaware that she’d drifted down from the sky like an angel. 

After an hour, he’d finally taken care of all the tasks for closing down the mine. He scampered back up the stairs to find the girl just where he’d left her, though she did hum something unintelligible and shift a little under the blanket. With the way her head was turned, he could see her chubby cheeks shining in the moon. 

“Guess I’ll call you ‘Cheeks’ since I don’t know your name,” he chuckled with a slight smirk. He squatted down, bundling her into his arms; now that it wasn’t unexpected, she was lighter than he realized. He easily held her close to his chest as he stomped down the stairs, carefully tucking her in one arm as he doused the lanterns at the mine entrance and closed the gates behind him. The girl murmured something and buried her nose into his chest, smiling faintly as she breathed in. Heat tinged his ears as she snuggled into him. “Do you have any idea who you’re cuddlin’?” he muttered, but couldn’t help but smile a little. She was kind of cute, for a girl who fell from the sky. 

He eventually shifted so that he was carrying her piggyback, the blanket wrapped around her to shield from the night wind. Her head bobbed gently against his shoulder with each step he took down the long, winding path leading up the hill, where the silhouette of his humble home was barely visible against the starry night sky and cloudy mountains in the distance. As he walked, the moonlight bathed him in its gentle white glow; his shadow walked beside him, with that of the girl wrapped around him like a cocoon. 

He glanced up as the light was suddenly eclipsed to see the shadow of a plane passing over the full moon. He scowled at the bird-like silhouette; it circled the moon like a hawk, spying on the earth below. That’s a bad sign… 

He pushed the girl up on his back before setting off at a quick pace. The mysterious appearance of the girl and that strange biplane in the sky were undoubtedly linked, and so he needed to hide her before the moonlight betrayed them… because the sky could not be trusted.

Enjoy this story? Here’s the next chapter! Please consider perusing my Table of Contents.

#kacchako #bakuraka #bakugo x ochako #ochako x bakugo #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo #ochako uraraka #uraraka ochako #my hero academia #mha #boku no hero academia #bnha

[maxrev]

Traditions for Tradition’s Sake

Thank you @nightmarestudio606 for the help with a title, as I was just too happy to write something to think so far ahead lmao

Anyway, have some Niall and Kaidan at Christmastime (a bit late) 

“So, where we off to?” Niall asked. 

“It’s a surprise,” Kaidan told him. 

“I hate surprises.” 

Pausing in the act of pouring hot chocolate into two large travel mugs, Kaidan smirked, “Do not. You love surprises.” 

With a look worthy of the Grinch himself, Niall huffed in annoyance. “Fine but only when they involve you,” he conceded.

“Good thing this one does then. It means you’re sure to love it.” 

Niall slumped against the counter, defeated, and watched Kaidan move around the kitchen in a continuous rhythm, packing a basket full of goodies. Of course, the hot chocolate was not complete without a can of whipped cream for topping and cinnamon to taste. He was also pretty sure he’d seen a flask of whiskey make its  way into the basket. When he’d questioned Kaidan, all he’d gotten was ‘something to make them toasty.’ Didnae need whiskey for that. 

However, it meant wherever they were going was sure to be cold. Although, snuggling up with Kaidan had many advantages and was worth braving the temperature and snow outside.  

He was currently packing small snack bags of pretzels dipped in yogurt and chocolate, frosted Christmas cookies, and Niall’s personal favorite, shortbread. Though the last was only added recently, just for him. Each goodie Kaidan and his mother, Grace, had made by hand, their own little tradition since he’d been a boy. And while he and his mother baked, he’d go out with his father to cut down a Christmas tree, something the three men had done together this year, walking all the way out to the back plot of land which had never been cleared for planting fruit trees and boasted a forest with all different sizes of evergreens. 

The Alenko family traditions had now become a part of Niall’s life, though he chose to help only minimally in the kitchen. He’d didn’t mind cooking but baking was too precise and he nearly always messed something up. 

He reveled in being part of such a close, loving family and how they celebrated, missing the ones he’d had with his own family, now all gone. 

Once the last item made it into the basket, Kaidan stopped, hands on hips,  brown eyes checking every inch of the kitchen to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. Walking towards the pantry, his tousled dark head disappeared inside. Niall looked at the basket, thinking it probably weighed more than the St. Bernard, Riley, currently snoozing by the fire. 

“You know,” he mused, “if ya keep feedin’ me like this, I’ll be looking like St. Nick verra soon.” 

Kaidan emerged from the pantry, a wicked grin on his face. With a wink, he sauntered over to Niall, arms wrapping around his waist as he leaned in close and whispered in his husky voice, warm breath tickling Niall’s lips, “Then I guess I’ll have to sit on your lap and tell you exactly what I want for Christmas.” 

Eager to hear more, Niall countered with, “Dinnae keep me waitin’. Tell me now.” 

Kaidan chuckled, low and soft. “Don’t worry, I will. But,” he held a finger against his lips, “we have things to do first.” 

Much to Niall’s dismay, he turned and hefted the heavily laden basket with ease and walked towards the front door, a smile on his lips as he looked over his shoulder. “Come on, Santa, let’s go. I have a surprise for you.” 

“I do love surprises.” 

“I thought you didn’t.” Kaidan had stopped by the door to bundle up warmly. 

“Changed my mind. Ya did say the surprise involved you.” 

“Oh, indeed it does.” Kaidan gave him a heated look before bundling up and headed out the door. If he kept it up, Niall would be shedding layers all the way to -- well, wherever they were headed. With a sigh, he slipped on his boots and gloves, donned his pea coat, and reached for the toque and scarf Grace had knitted just for him in his favorite colors; black, red, and white. An early Christmas present. 

He stepped out onto the porch to find a winter wonderland scene straight from a painting; multicolored lights swayed from the eaves in a soft puff of wind. The porch railings were wrapped in the same lights, twinkling merrily, their colors muted, reflecting against the pristine snow. The railings along the porch and steps were wrapped with lights and garland, intertwined. 

A large pine tree off to the side of the porch was also wrapped with lights, both multicolored and white. As he closed the door, a thick, beautiful evergreen wreath decorated with assorted Christmas decorations and bells, jingled softly. The foggy windows along the porch were gently lit from within by battery operated candles, shedding amber light out onto the porch. 

Hearing a noise, he turned, mouth dropping in an O of surprise. Kaidan stood in front of his parent’s beautiful black Friesian, Warlock, coat glistening in the light of a half moon, whispering to him quietly while one hand played with the forelock. The horse nudged him in the chest, making him stumble, and he laughed in response before pulling a carrot from his pocket. Niall felt green with envy. As the horse happily munched on the carrot, the bells around it’s neck rang in the air. 

Behind the horse sat a beautiful sleigh, adorned with intricate designed scrollwork one might find in days gone by. It was a deep red, the designs painted a shimmering gold. The runners waxed and ready to glide effortlessly over the snow. Inside the bench seat was covered in red velvet and piled high with warm woolen blankets and at least a few afghans he was sure Grace had knitted over the years. 

Walking down steps cleared of snow, Niall appreciated the sight of Kaidan’s dark head resting against Warlock’s, kindred spirits. 

Kaidan looked over as he approached, “Ready for an adventure?”

“Oh, 'tis an adventure yer plannin’? I thought ‘twas a surprise?” 

“It’s a surprise adventure.” At Niall’s look of skepticism, he amended, “An adventurous surprise?” 

Niall couldn’t help but smile, “With you? Always.” 

Leaving the horse, Kaidan walked over to wrap Niall’s scarf snuggly about his neck before tucking it inside his coat. 

“What, am I wee lad of five?” 

Kaidan tugged on the scarf, before smacking Niall lightly on the shoulder, “Sometimes, though there’s truly nothing wee about you. Now, climb in and let’s get going.” 

As soon as he was settled, Kaidan flicked the reigns and called out, “Time to go, Warlock. Let’s show Niall some amazing sights.” 

The horse neighed in response and with little effort, pulled them forward and on into the night. As if powered by holiday magic, the sleigh glided effortlessly over the mounds of snow like it was floating along in the air. Niall remained quiet, taking in the peaceful moonlit scened around them. The trees in the orchard, all lined up in rows, and the evergreens scattered haphazardly about, wore their winter coats with refined elegance. 

The air was sharp, crisp, and fresh; completely unlike the salty sea air they had living on the beach. It was brisk and cold, clearing Niall’s head from the usual doubts and anxiety which always seemed to follow him around, though less and less as the months went by.

Above them, a dark, velvety canopy was the backdrop for millions of twinkling lights, the stars on gorgeous display as if the whole galaxy was a Christmas tree. 

As if no time had passed, Niall realized with a start the sled was slowing to a stop in a small, sheltered alcove amongst the hills, a windbreak of evergreens behind them to keep the chill winter breeze off their skin. Kaidan climbed out and whispered to Warlock while rubbing his neck. Going back to the sleigh, he reached behind the seat and brought out some hay, spreading it out on the ground for the horse. 

It was just like Kaidan to always make sure everyone, animal or person, had what they needed. 

He climbed back in and reached inside the basket to hand Niall his mug and the flask of whiskey. 

“Tryin’ ta get me drunk and take advantage of me?” He dangled the flask in the air. “Take more’n this ta do the trick.” 

A dark brow shot up in response, “I need to get you drunk to take advantage of you?” 

Without waiting for a response, because they both knew it wasn’t true, Kaidan dug around in the basket and pulled out some of the goodies he’d packed and handed them over. He then shook out several blankets and layered them on their laps before wrapping two of the afghans around their shoulders. A nice, toasty cocoon of warmth. 

Niall added a bit of cinnamon to their mugs and Kaidan followed it with a dram of whiskey and topped them with whipped cream. The two sat side by side in this quiet little world, munching contentedly on Christmas snacks and drinking hot chocolate. The whiskey warmed him from the inside out and while it was cold, he wasn’t too uncomfortable. Besides, their body heat warmed him up quite well. 

Following a bite of cookie with hot chocolate, Niall swallowed them down and asked, because he was really curious. “So, is there any particular reason we ventured out in weather cold enough to freeze my bollocks into bags of ice? Is this a strange Canadian passtime or something?” 

Kaidan nearly choked on his drink, coughing and sputtering with laughter. “Um...no. No, it isn’t. But, there’s actually a very good reason we’re doing this. Just enjoy the surroundings - and the company - and be patient.” 

“‘Tis no virtue of mine, patience, as you well know but aye, the company is verra enjoyable.” 

Leaning over, Kaidan softly brushed their lips together. “For me too.”

Wherever Kaidan was, Niall wanted to be there. It didn’t matter the circumstances, just as long as they were together. With Kaidan by his side, he could face anything head on. 

They sat in the sleigh snuggled side by side, eating, drinking, and talking. Eventually, despite the cold, Niall began to drift off. He was happy, warm, and full; the perfect recipe for a nap. 

Kaidan nudged him lightly, “Hey, sleepyhead, wake up.” 

Niall blinked open his eyes, “What’d I miss?” 

“Well, my stellar company for one.” Niall snorted and Kaidan glanced at him in mock indignation. “Are you saying my company isn’t any good?” As Niall shook his head no, yet didn’t stop laughing, he sighed and crossed his arms. “You also missed the moose who came up and asked for directions.” 

Struggling for breath at the statement, mentioned so seriously with no hint of amusement, Niall managed to spit out a retort, “Must’ve been a female. A male wouldn’t ask for directions.”

“Very funny, Niall.”

“Ya know ‘tis true.” 

“You didn’t miss anything yet,” Kaidan assured him. 

Mouth cracking open in a wide in a yawn, he waited, then asked, “Hey, d’ya have anymore shortbread? Oh, and whiskey. My bollocks really are goin ta freeze off.” 

“Those wee things? I doubt it.” Niall glared at him. “So I’m not keeping you warm anymore? That hurts.” 

Niall nudged him, “Stop. Ya know I just want more.” 

Kaidan chuckled, “Yeah, I do.” He handed the flask over along with a bag of the shortbread, pulling it back when Niall reached for it, eyes narrowing in thought, “Although, you did say you were worried about becoming St. Nick. Maybe you’ve had enough?” 

“Well, you dinnae seem upset if I did, so why should I worry? More of me tae love, aye?” 

“Ohhhh, aye.” Kaidan eyed him up and down as if he was a popsicle and the weather was dangerously hot. Might end up there at this rate. 

He popped a piece of shortbread into his mouth and as he chewed, Kaidan grabbed his hand and squeezed, “There! Look up, Niall.” 

Nearly choking on the shortbread, he did and was overcome with awe at the site which greeted him. Across the sky was a giant ribbon of colors in vibrant hues of pink, blue, violet and green. They flowed across the dark sky, lighting it up like a carnival, colors swaying and dancing to the earth’s own music. It was spectacular. Niall felt small in the presence of a wonder such as this. 

He watched for several minutes, mesmerized, at the splendor before him. Turning, he saw Kaidan watching him. 

“You’re not watchin’ them dance?” 

“I’ve seen it a few times and right now, I’m enjoy watching you more. The look of awe and wonder on your face, the colors as they dance across your skin, is much better than watching them in the sky.” 

Voice gruff with emotion, Niall pulled him close, “Ach, ya flatterer,” for a kiss which left them both breathless and hungry for more. Very warm as well. 

As they watched the light a bit longer before they began to fade, Niall spoke softly, “My da told me about them as a wee lad. Said his da had showed him, told him a story they were our kin, gone up to heaven and paintin’ the sky just for us. I remember I could imagine Gilliana doing such when she...well, maybe ‘tis all of them up there now, paintin’ the sky for me. And you now, as well.” 

“What a beautiful thought, Niall. I love it and from what you’ve shared of them, think they would do so, Gilliana spurring them on.” 

Turning, he captured Kaidan’s face in his hands, “Tapadh leibh, mo chridhe*,” he whispered softly against his lips. 

“You’re welcome. Thank you for coming along and enduring the chilly weather just for me.” 

Niall snorted, “Chilly, he says. Aye, I’m happy to be here with ya.” 

Grasping the reigns, Kaidan turned Warlock and headed for home, remaining quiet, leaving Niall to this thoughts who knew he would treasure the memory of this night forever. 

#mshenko #mass effect #Niall Shepard #Kaidan Alenko #custom shepard #christmastime #holiday fun and stuff

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 29: The Dueling Club

Peter found it a genuine relief, once his head stopped ringing, to find themselves not in Hogwarts for now. There was just too much going on in their school that was giving him the creeps, too much trouble Harry kept getting into that they somehow managed to follow.

His confusion still rose of where exactly they were. There were glass cases lined all along the walls and a metal bar protruding from the wall in front of all that as if it were any kind of deterrent, and it took a few moments before he could get to his feet and peak into the nearest one, prepared to dart away the second another dangerous thing lunged out. Instead he found a strange, very tiny little creature with rough brown skin and buggering blue eyes. There were three prongs coming out the back of its head, but four legs that seemed webbed in appearance and a flat tail. His eyes swept down further and he saw a plaque reading Axolotl- Ambystoma mexicanum, with some description of the beast. Looking more properly now along the way again he saw the same type of thing in front of every display. They were in a reptile house.

He'd been to the zoo a few times in his youth, but his mum being a seamstress meant they hadn't much money and it had been a treat. As far as they knew Harry had only been the one time, but that didn't explain why they were here now. Up until this point they'd been following Harry along, this seemed rather out of the way.

"Hey, I think I found the boa Harry was talking to," Frank said as he eyed a great mound of green coils snoozing away.

"I don't think so," Alice corrected. "I distinctly recall that one being brown, and a Brazilian boa. The Emerald's are from Brazil, but not the right species."

"Maybe they don't have it on display anymore," Lily muttered, thinking that whether it had escaped captivity or been caught, someone likely wouldn't want it on sight anymore.*

"Oi, I found a door that opened!" Sirius whooped in triumph, keeping the book loosely under his arm as he sucked in the fresh air. "How about we put this nasty business on hold lads and get some space, I've never been to a zoo before!"

"That was just sad," Remus told him at once, and Peter was more than happy to follow them out of this place. Too many things in here would find him a snack, in both bodies he could assume.

"I want to see the Dudley gorilla," James agreed as he darted past, coming almost at once to a fork in the road. He didn't even hesitate, high on pure energy he darted right and took off at full speed still shouting about all the animals he wanted to see.

"I vote Wormtail fetches him," Remus smirked.

"You literally just used a Padfoot joke on me, I can't decide if I'm offended or flattered," Peter rolled his eyes as he strolled past the two, who were clearly enjoying the clear skies and shady foliage more.

"Go with flattered and do what he says," Sirius suggested.

Peter was already doing so, scoffing about the two turning into layabouts, but turning into a jog to keep James in sight as he took a left. He finally caught up to him as he was bouncing in place and reading the plaque of a reindeer. "Look, look it Wormie! My distant cousins!"

"Prongs, you know just because you can turn into one doesn't mean-"

"Shhh! Don't spoil my fun, think I can get in there with them? Bet I can be king of the herd!"

"James, I really wouldn't recommend-"

He was being ignored, he'd already slipped under the wooden boards and was standing in the space in between, fingers pressed into the mesh gate, eyeing the top as if he could gauge how far the jump was. "Wonder why they only have males in there," he said absently as he tried to fit a trainer into the metal.

"This is one of the few species of deer where females can grow prongs to, I'm sure they're in there," Peter said in resignation as he managed to get both feet off the ground, but stayed there for a moment rather than lifting himself higher.

James hesitated, trying to stretch his arm up higher to get more purchase without toppling over, but couldn't get his feet in well enough to manage such a thing. "Where's Sirius?" He demanded as he wobbled dangerously, looking for more backup than Peter's silent unsupport.

"He and Moony were taking their sweet time while you ran off."

"Been noticing that a lot lately," James groused as he let himself loose and hit the ground, deciding to focus on this. Of course he could have made the climb if he wanted to...it just would have been easier if he'd had his broom.

"Yeah," Peter agreed, keeping the bitterness entirely out of his voice as James acknowledged this as well.

"Probably just catching each other up on every mundane detail Pads missed the past month," James sighed, even as he did gaze back curiously.

"Wasn't much to miss," Peter reminded.

James ignored this, no need to go back and reminisce how quiet their life had somehow gotten with one of their numbers not on speaking terms, so grabbed hold of Peter and began towing him further on. "Oh well, they'll catch up. I saw an exhibit for meerkats isn't far off, let's go see your cousins Pete!"

"I think this place got the sign for this one wrong," Frank told Alice as he inspected the odd creature before him. "That's clearly some kind of zebra."

"Says here an Okapi is a subspecies of giraffes and zebras," Alice agreed. Shrugging at how odd Muggels were for their many sciences, especially in naming creatures. The two moved on, stopping with increasing frequency and more than happy to have Lily around whenever they ran across something odd, like a cart full of bobble-heads.

She seemed to be in a radiant mood, having tied her hair up and was all but skipping ahead of them and only rounded back when they called out a question to her. When curiosity had gotten the better of her and Alice had finally asked why, she'd just smiled and admitted, "the peace and quiet is nice."

It was true they hadn't heard a word of the book yet, which was rather odd, and they wondered if distance had finally pulled the magic too far and they didn't even know if the Marauders were continuing the story somewhere else. Only Frank seemed disappointed in this prospect, the mystery of that monster at Hogwarts still on his mind, they could be missing clues. He was having far too much fun though to really offer the complaint, and didn't dare suggest actually hunting the lot down, bringing the girls moods with this.

"Let's go find the birdhouse," Lily suggested, her eyes sparkling with excitement. They spotted a huge dome like structure in the distance which must have been what caught her eye and easily kept pace with her as she kept up a happy babble. Alice suddenly realized this was really the most she'd heard her talk since this began. "I love birds, did you know their bones are hollow, but still incredibly strong. You can't just snap them in half like a chicken bone."

"Do you own an owl?" Frank asked kindly, but to his surprise the smile dropped from her face.

"No, ah, my parents won't allow it." Her answer sounded very diplomatic, but Frank still regretted asking, having brought her mood back so low.

"My sister, really," she tacked on defensively, her tone edging harder every word now. "She, err, I've asked, but she hates animals, and my parents, err, I mean I have to respect her wishes too."

"Must be hard having siblings," Alice offered.

"Yeah," she agreed, her hand trailing up to catch strands of her hair now and playing with it, walking along at a much calmer pace so to stay even with them now. "She, ah, doesn't like that I can do magic but she can't. It's, been hard to talk to her lately. Last time we really did was our last trip to the zoo, first summer back from Hogwarts. It's like she forgot where I'd been gone all year, and we just talked and had fun all day. Even though she took no interest in the animals, we played games watching Muggles pass by and mum and dad let us even go off ahead of them a bit to show they trusted us being bigger. Then we went to the birdhouse, and I saw the most beautiful owl in there! I started telling her about all the ones at school, and -" She stopped there, both in speech and walking, staying frozen on the spot in front of a cart advertising plushies for all sorts of critters to see in this zoo.

Then she blinked as if coming back to reality and gave them a very guilty look. "Sorry, looks like I'm always putting my foot in my mouth no matter the company. I'll just let you two-"

"Don't be silly," Alice said at once, reaching out and taking her hand with the best smile she could offer. "As if we're going to let you off on your own after spilling your guts like that. Your sister's a twat for not wanting to hear about your life, but we'd love to."

Frank gave an encouraging smile as well, thinking the poor girl needed some fun in her life. Between such a home life and someone like Snape for a friend, she probably didn't get much. "We don't have to go to the bird house, how about we find the food court?"

"No, I want to," she insisted, her eyes lighting with some spark again. "I really did love the place, it's so exotic and probably as close as I'll ever get to seeing the rain forest. Err, it's also on the way to the restaurants," she offered herself.

"Sounds perfect," Alice agreed, now the one dragging both of them along.

Remus and Sirius were unintentionally taking turns watching each other. It was a miracle they'd managed to keep their school bags on them all this time, but when Sirius realized he had, he'd slipped the book into it without a second glance yet, and that had been almost an hour ago now. Finally he could just enjoy some time out, and some alone time with Remus.

The two had already stopped and had a good snog once already, before the sound of something had drawn their startled attention. It didn't sound particularly threatening, and in fact it turned out to be a lion attempting to mimic a roar, though it more sounded like a giant cat hacking up a hairball. Remus had dragged Sirius over and began mocking the beast, and the proud cat actually responded in kind. Sirius nearly fell to the ground laughing as the two kept 'roaring' at each other for a good few minutes.

Then the two had taken off to actually find their mates, looking first in the gorilla house where they'd expected to find them. They did indeed spot the apes, but in the very back hiding in the shaded trees and various equipment they had available to play in. Then they'd been sidetracked at where the warthogs were rummaging about, Sirius being genuinely amazed how tough they looked compared to the bacon he was craving.

Remus had to drag Sirius away from the anteater, while Padfoot still insisted he wanted a closer look at such an odd creature and surely it wouldn't run if he turned into a friendlier dog. They had another good pass at each other before they realized they had an audience in front of the lemurs, and still red faced and fixing their clothes from that, they finally stumbled across their friends gazing at some naked mole-rats.

"There you two are, we been looking all over!" James called in excitement.

"What's with you two, you look all hot and bothered," Peter agreed. There was an odd look in his eye as he saw the pair and then looked back at James, but both ignored him and the question.

"Probably walked right past each other in a place this size," Sirius said off hand. "Let's go find that place Harry mentioned, where we can get some ice cream around here."

They all stopped and had some fun in front of the tigers, each bidding how far they could get in before the big cat realized they were there. Peter insisted he'd make it the farthest, without becoming a meal. Then they came across a bear enclosure, two huge beasts tossing each other about inside. It seemed in good fun, for the animals.

"Come on, we run around with a werewolf once a month, I'll bet I can take them!" James insisted, now more than willing to levitate himself into the enclosure and give it a go.

"Prongs, you are literally something they'd have a joy eating," Peter tried to protest.

"Not if he has backup!" Sirius insisted, bouncing on his heels in preparation.

"You two idiots are going to be murdered and then we're going to be zapped around with corpses," Remus pleasantly informed them. "Please, let's go have some lunch, and then we can come back," he quickly pacified.

They were still happily bickering about it when they found a good sized restaurant and went into the cool air with gratitude, raiding the kitchens for the sweet treats and each making their own scoop before Sirius finally took a grateful seat at a table and digging into the bag for the book.

"So you weren't reading that this whole time?" Peter asked with interest.

"Nah," Remus shrugged, "was just having some jollies about the place like you two."

"I'd been wondering if we'd just get yanked out of here before we'd find you two," James rolled his eyes.

Sirius ignored him too as he finally got started reading the chapter title.

"Glory Black, we could hear you outside, can you yell that any louder," Smith said as she poked her head inside, her face flushed from heat as well but looking almost grateful to have found them.

"You just getting started on that?" Longbottom asked as he came inside as well along with Evans, all three clutching stuffed parrots.

"Yep, glad you could join us," James smiled and very obviously moved himself over to make room for them, her, nearly pushing Peter out of his seat in the process.

Peter scowled and shoved him back just as hard, James nearly face planting his ice cream.

Ignoring the two making snipping comments at each other now, the three sat around comfortably, though not nearly as far away as they could. James still beamed at the proximity, wishing they could spend the rest of this reading adventure here, it was clearly putting Evans in a good mood, she was even smiling as Sirius started off and it didn't even dim that much as the Muggleborns in the school were described during this monster fear.

Regulus spent the entire time staring at penguins. They were funny little things, he'd instantly decided, and had been captivated at once by the flightless birds zooming through the water at such speeds. For a moment he'd even tried to see if he could run faster and been amazed the bird swam the length of it's glass before he could do any such thing. Smiling as the one he'd locked eyes on darted away, he tried to circle around and follow it, finding a nice large tree he could sit under and observe the whole area.

He was sure if a Muggle were to come along he'd be terribly scolded, he'd had to clamber over a large ridge right into the enclosure and several of the birds came up to him within reach, clicking their beaks and eyeing him for food. When he offered nothing they lost interest and began preening each other, the splash of water as the bodies leaped free of their miniature ocean the only noise he heard until Sirius finally began reading the next part of the chapter.

His voice had been so clear Regulus had startled, scattering all the webbed critters that had gone near him back into the water, but when he looked around, there was still no one in sight. Sighing and inching himself further a bit more so that his feet nearly touched the clear surface, he relaxed again and let himself enjoy the tale from a distance for once. He couldn't hear the commentary going along, to which he was grateful for. He could almost imagine it all anyways, his idiot of a brother and his friends laughing about the Potter kid causing trouble in Snape's class, Smith and Longbottom being happy about everything and chatting about the good merits of a dueling club. By the time the chapter even got to the part of Harry attending it Regulus was so relaxed he'd even slipped his shoes off and dipped his feet in the water, surprised by how pleasantly warm it was.

Hearing of Harry actively speaking Parseltongue was of great interest to him, his fascination with Potters child growing all the more as he took control of the situation and spoke the language he'd only heard rumor the Dark Lord could as well. Knowing the child could and actively hearing him do it twice now was enthralling, what his family would give if he could do such a thing as well! Potter and his friends treated it like some bad thing, and Regulus just had to scoff, those kids didn't know how good their life could be if they'd just be a bit smarter, instead all three reminded him of his idiotic brother.

The idea of something happening to a ghost did get his attention, a chill sweeping through him that had nothing to do with the warm sun still beating down. He couldn't blame that Ernie fellow for thinking Harry had done it given the circumstances, but a pureblood should be smarter than that! He should realize you should always look at more options available than just blaming the obvious source, shouldn't he? He was really starting to question that, considering that Hermione friend of Potter's obviously knew better but so many purebloods didn't. Then he swallowed and looked around again, waiting for his mother or one of his friends from school to spot him having such traitorous thoughts-

He cursed and jumped straight out of the enclosure in surprise, not because Potter was going to see the headmaster, but a penguin had taken a nip at his foot, apparently under the delusion it was a snack rather than toes. He drew his wand and took aim at the pestilent bird, but lowered it at the last second as he conceded he had been asking for such a thing to be happening. Then he was pulled away altogether.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #Marauders #CoS #Wolfstar #reading the books #zoo #Regulus Black #Regulus Black and Penguins #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #Peter Pettigrew #James Potter #Lily Evans #Frank Longbottom #Alice Smith

[mymelodyheart]

Starting Over Chapter 30 ~The Last Stand~

Claire stepped out of the pub, inhaled the fresh cold Autumn air and plucked the phone from the back of her jeans pocket. She'd decided to give Jamie a call to find out if he was still working. She listened to the phone ring while navigating the pavement filled with people coming in and out of pubs and restaurants. The time spent with her friend John had been pleasant and refreshing. It was great to talk to someone who wasn't from within her social circle and not had to go into discussions about Jamie and her present concerns. For the first time in ages, she felt more optimistic. Maybe it had something to do with the change of scene after being stuck in the repetitive work, home and sleep cycle. Or perhaps it had to do with her decision to stop moping and thinking the worse of what's to come. Being alone with her own thoughts at the moment wasn't a great idea by a long shot, which could cost her at the worst of times her peace of mind. Geillis was right. She needed to be more proactive about her issues instead of dwelling on the negativity.

Jamie's voicemail came on, so she terminated the call, weaving through a small group of revellers as she came closer to her destination. If he wasn't home, she knew he would be soon. Mildly tipsy, she'd left John at the pub not long after a couple of his friends had joined them at their table. She'd made it a point that a pint of lager and a dram of whisky was her limit for tonight if she was going to make it to Jamie's place whole and without staggering. 

The sky was overcast and dark by the time she made it to Jamie's building and slipped the key into the main entrance, opening the heavy, wooden door. She hadn't seen his BMW parked anywhere in the street and thought he must still be working. Shivering and feeling the cold, she rubbed her hands together, craving for a nice mug of tea and the comfort of the snug recliner. She made a move towards the stairs, the sounds of her clunky boots echoing in the hall and the retro-styled wall lamp dramatically illuminating the interior as she started her ascend.

When she finally made it to the apartment, she slid the key into the lock, opened the door and slipped in. She heard jazz music coming from the surround system, and the lights in the hallway were dimmed.  Jamie's home!  Anticipation bloomed in her heart. He must have taken the taxi and left his car somewhere, a habit they both had when they'd had a bit to drink. Humming, she pulled off her jacket and hanged it in the cloak wardrobe. She stopped by the console table to deposit her keys and phone, and saw several post-it notes in Jamie's hurried writing and crumpled receipts. She absentmindedly glanced at them and lifted her head when she heard movements in the kitchen.

Impatiently, she toed off her ankle boots and headed towards the door that led to the open-plan room, a smile curving her lips when the smell of pizza made her stomach growl. It was a stranger's voice that froze her smile, a distinctly soft feminine laugh. She opened the door slowly, the lit kitchen illuminating a brunette girl with only a towel draped around her body. The girl was tall, and her long dark hair fell in soft waves just below her shoulders. She was pouring wine into two glasses.

Her head pounding and chest tightening, Claire stepped into the room. A part of her was screaming for her to leave immediately, but the other half wanting to see this through, to look Jamie in the eyes and show him she would not disintegrate. Although her feet weighed like lead, she took another step. And then another, the thin string of control almost at its breaking point, ready to snap at any moment. 

When the girl finally turned and realised she wasn't alone, she let out an ear-piercing scream that sent a pair of heavy feet running towards their direction and almost busting Claire's eardrums.

Claire's hand clenched, her fury pushing hard through her veins. She ignored the girl's screams and waited for Jamie to come out.   But ...

"Claire? What are ye doing here?"

Holy sweet Moses!  Instead of Jamie, she was greeted by a stark naked Rabbie. Flusteredly pointing her finger at his dangly bits, she clapped a hand over her eyes and looked the other way. "Oh for the love of God, Rabbie put that ...that ...that thingy away." Tall as Jamie as he was but a gangly version, no way was she ever going to look at Jamie's wee brother the same way again. And to say the very least, there was certainly nothing wee about him.

"It's a penis," he said, his voice tinged with amusement. "Jamie's got the same, ye ken?"

Oh God, he's even as cocky as his brother.  A hand still covering her eyes, Claire stomped her foot to make a point. "Rabbie!! I know what it is, for heaven's sake ...just put it away and put some clothes on, will you? I'm not speaking to you unless you're fully clothed."

"Roberto? What is the meaning of this? Who is this woman? What is she doing here?" the brunette girl rapidly launched the questions in a thick Spanish accent. 

" Tranquila querida, it's only my future sister-in-law," he soothed. "Come, let's get dressed."

Future sister-in-law? Oh, whatever next?

"But she saw your berenjena,"  the brunette pointed out, a sulk evident in her tone.

"You calling my cock an aubergine?" Rabbie gently chided. "Now that's uncalled for."

The girl giggled as Claire heard them move away, and only when she was certain she was alone, did she take her hand off her eyes.

With shaking knees, she collapsed onto the nearest chair and wondered what the hell just happened.

..........

Jamie checked his phone as he headed towards the parking lot and noticed he had a missed call from Claire. She hadn't left a message, and when he'd tried to call back, she didn't answer. He'd just finished a session of photocalls for a sports magazine and was hoping to catch up with her in the pub. And find out more about this, John.  But which pub?

His thoughts zeroed in on Joe and immediately called his number.

"Hey, buddy." Joe sounded merry, and there were music and loud voices in the background. He thought maybe he joined Claire at the pub.

"Hey, Joe. Is Claire with ye?"

"Claire? No, sorry, mate. I'm out with the lads from work. Have you tried calling her?"

"Aye, but she's not answering. She told me she's going to a pub, but I didn't have the sense to ask her earlier which one."

"Mmm, we usually frequent The Last Drop. Maybe you ought to try looking for her there."

"I will do." Jamie found his car, got in and closed his eyes, only half-listening, trying to remember his other purpose for calling.

"I hardly get to see you nowadays, buddy. Claire told me you've been really busy, and she barely gets to see you too. But then, work is work isn't it? Can't turn your nose up when the opportunity knocks. Got to take it by the ..."

"Joe." The moment he said his name, Joe stopped talking.

"Yes?"

"Claire went out with this doctor bloke ...whatshisname ...John from St Leonards. What do ye ken of him?"

"John? John Grey?"

"Aye."

"He's sound. Pretty straight-up guy, ace doctor and hilarious as fuck."

Jamie coughed, an uncomfortable weight settling in his chest. "So ye ken him good, aye?"

"Of course I do. I got Claire that temp job, didn't I? He's a good pal of mine."

Jamie got straight to the point. "Why is he hanging out with Claire? Doesn't he know ...eh ... she's with me?"

A few seconds went by before Joe let out a loud unrestrained laugh. "Whoa! Who are you, and what have you done with James Fraser?"

He muttered a curse under his breath. "Look, listen ...I don't have time for this. I haven't been around Claire lately, but that's all gonnae change very soon. It's just that I've been so busy with the sports complex and interviews and other stuff, I thought she might feel I've neglected her and all. And I was wondering if she'd said anything to ye or ye'd had any hints of her going off me and started seeing other people."

"Well, mate that's what happens when you don't keep an eye on your lass ...you snooze, you lose," he replied laughing.

Irritation skated his back. "Stop taking the mickey, Joe! If ye ken something, spit it out."

"Hey! Hold yer horses, man," Joe countered, this time his tone sounding more serious. "You can't blame me for taking the piss. Are you even listening to yourself? You start asking stupid questions, you'll get stupid answers. Fuck, Jamie ... sometimes you're a picnic short of a sandwich. What do you think of Claire? Do you think, just because you don't have time for her, she'd start seeing other people? She's got more depth than that."

Jamie banged the back of his head against the headrest of the car seat, biting his tongue so he'd not say anything he'd regret later. "Ah, bugger it."

There was a long silence on the other end. Jamie wondered if he had better luck calling up Geillis, but at his state at the moment, he didn't think he had the patience for her usual smart-ass remarks.

"John is gay." Joe finally spoke.

He straightened up. "What?"

"John is gay, and he has a boyfriend, but that isn't the point here. Even if John wasn't gay, you don't have anything to worry about Claire's devotion to you. And my piece of advice ...if your conscience is bothering you not spending much time with her this much, then I suggest you do something about it. She's been messed about a lot. And I sometimes wonder why she chose to be with a man who has a past like yours. But hey, I'm not judging. So if it feels like she is a little bit distant, it's just her self-preservation mode kicking in. She doesn't ask for much, Jamie ...but a little reassurance that you're there for her will go a long way. That's all I have to say to that."

Something loosened up inside of him, and he realised he'd been holding his breath and clutching the steering wheel in a tight grip. He allowed himself to slowly relax and breath. "Thanks, Joe," was all he could manage. Nursing unnecessary worries was probably the universe's version of biting him on the arse for all those times he'd broken many girls' hearts even though he'd told himself many times he'd never led anyone on. But right now, he needed to put those excuses and insecurities aside and focus on Claire and making their relationship stronger.

"Jamie?"

"Aye?

"Welcome to the incredible world of jealousy. For the price of admission, you get an inferiority complex, palpitations, cold sweats, and a nearly irresistible urge to commit murder, But don't worry, buddy it's all just part of the teething problem. You'll survive."

Jamie let out a laugh, said goodbye and hung up. 

Having Claire in his life was worth the self-doubt and every pain in the arse things that came with it. But Joe's words' kept repeating over and over in his head.  Well, mate that's what happens when you don't keep an eye on your lass ...you snooze, you lose.  It was meant to be a joke, but he didn't like that one bit at all. Just a glimmer of risk to his relationship, suddenly, all he'd worked hard for, lost all of its meaning. Back when his entire life was all about making money out of fear for a shortlived career, he'd been ready to sell his soul. Then he met Claire. He'd said he was done with Forbes, done with the paparazzi, done with everything but the feisty Sassenach that turned his life upside down. However, not much had changed from his old life. He was still running around, trying to court big names in the celebrity world to sell his brand. Then the realisation hit him hard that there's a possibility he could lose her for good if nothing changed and he couldn't, at that moment, ever imagine another man with her. If that happened, it wouldn't be a laughing matter. And if that happened, he would never find another woman like her and all he'd have to show for in his life were the long hours at work but with no one to share it with. Just like what Ned Gowan once told him not too long ago. He closed his eyes to keep those horrible visions at bay. But somehow the images still managed to seep into his consciousness, and it terrified the hell out of him. 

It dawned on him, he would give up everything, pay every cent of his fortune to keep Claire his.  What the hell is happening to me?  Maybe it had something to do with the time he'd spent with her when he didn't need to be anyone other than himself. Perhaps it was the way that, through her, he had taken a good hard look at himself and wanted to change. But he needed to do more to guarantee she wouldn't slip away.

But first, he needed to find her.

.........

Claire poured hot water over the chamomile tea bag in the mug and then a healthy measure of whisky in a tumbler. After the horror of seeing a half-naked girl in Jamie's kitchen and Rabbie in the bare scud, she needed the soothing effects of the herbal brew and the immediate heat of the alcohol to calm her nerves.

She lifted a hand and saw it was still shaking. She'd already taken the pizza meant for Rabbie and company out of the oven and washed the dishes to keep herself busy and pacify her jitteriness. Even the sight and smell of melted cheese couldn't entice her to have a piece of their untouched dinner, her earlier appetite gone and dissipated. The feel of walking into what's supposed to be a romantic setting clung to her, as did the guilt for doubting Jamie ...and if she kept thinking about it, she was going to need more than a dram of whisky.

Dropping down on the nearby stool, she allowed herself to simply be and for once to stop overthinking. So far it hadn't done her any good, only given her sleepless nights and probably making Jamie worried with her constant display of disappointment. These small acts of dubiety against her practical nature were starting to become a liability and a bad character trait. She really needed to pull herself together and give Jamie some credence.

Rabbie walked into the kitchen, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans and a tinge of red highlighting the tips of his ears. "Hey," he said, clearing his throat.

They looked at each other for a moment and then burst out laughing.

He ran an impatient hand through his hair. "God, that was embarrassing."

She wiped the tears from her eyes. "You didn't seem embarrassed when I saw you bollock-naked."

"Oh, that ...no. I'm not embarrassed about that." He jerked a thumb towards the living area. "Ye weren't supposed to know what we were up to ...I meant, at least not here in Jamie's apartment."

"Your girlfriend?" she asked.

"Maria ...aye ...weel, it's complicated. We've been on and off for the last six months. Tonight wasnae supposed to happen. I called Jamie earlier if I could crash here for the night and he said yes since you hardly come here anymore. On the way, I stopped by the pub and saw her. We had a few drinks, and then one thing led to another, we came here for some privacy and then ye appeared. She's still rattled about ye being here, and she's gone all shy. I'll introduce ye another time since she desperately wants to go."

"It's getting late, Rabbie. You can stay. There's enough room."

"Thanks but no thanks. We're good."

She gave him an apologetic look. "Sorry for ruining your evening."

"Ach, think nothing of it," he reassured with a wave of a hand. He was about to turn and go when he stopped on his tracks. "Ummm ...Claire?"

"Yes?"

"Please don't tell Jamie I brought a girl here."

"If he doesn't ask, I won't say a word," she said, smiling. "After I've drunk my tea and whisky, I'll go straight to bed, so I don't think Jamie will get a chance to ask questions."

"Thank you," he said gratefully. "umm ...I cleared all evidence in the guest bedroom."

"Good."

"See ye around, Claire."

She nodded and waved at the girl, thankful she didn't have to go through small talks with Rabbie's on and off girlfriend. As much as she would have loved to know more about the beautiful exotic looking girl, she couldn't wait to be on her own. Suddenly feeling spent from the roller-coaster emotions she'd been through that day, she downed the whisky in one go. She and Jamie needed to talk. Jamie wasn't the only one dealing with these massive changes in their lives. In the space of three months, there had been enormous upheavals in both their personal and professional lives, and she needed to tell him exactly what she was feeling even if only to vent and release what was troubling her. Constantly letting her imaginations run away from her wasn't healthy and certainly not good for their relationship.

Satisfied with her logic, she went to Jamie's bedroom, undressed and put on one of his t-shirts. And then she went to the kitchen and poured herself another dram, forgoing the tea, and taking it with her to the living area. Placing it on the coffee table, she plonked herself down on the massive leather recliner. It was her favourite place to snuggle into beside Jamie's arm. It had a remote, a seat warmer and it reclined into full position. Pulling the tartan blanket over her, she made herself comfortable. Forty winks were all she needed to regenerate and rid herself of today's troubles before Jamie arrives.

As she began to relax, a sense of peace settled over her. She murmured occasional comments to herself, reminding her of the things she needed to tell Jamie and making a mental to-do list for tomorrow. Gradually her limbs became heavier, and her lids closed, the image of the list floating away with her awareness.

"Claire?"

Her name sounded like dark syrup and caramel, rolling from a tongue. She sighed and lifted her face upward, too drowsy to raise her arms - the distinctive scent of Jamie, soap, and a hint of aftershave connecting to her senses. 

"Hmmm?"

Calloused fingers caressed her cheek, and she leaned against that warm hand and kissed his palm. A low mutter escaped his lips. "Christ, Sassenach, I've been looking everywhere for ye."

"I'm here" She stretched, her muscles contracting and releasing in anticipation. She sighed. "And you smell delicious."

"Sweet Jesus, ye're killing me."

The foggy haze of sleep clouded her brain waves. She blinked and reached out to brush back a strand of curl that fell on his brow and trace the edges of his soft, full lips with a fingertip. "You're so beautiful," she murmured. "Far too beautiful for me, though. Aren't you, Jamie?"

"A dhia. What am I going to do with ye?"

His lips brushed over hers, warm, firm, and sure, sipping from her mouth like he was savouring an expensive glass of whisky. The taste of him exploded on her tongue, and she whimpered, opening to him fully. He kissed her slow, without any concern about taking his time, tasting and sucking languidly until she dissolved into the recliner and the flesh between her legs throbbed with need. 

Just when she was fidgeting to get more of him, he broke the kiss and stared into her eyes. "I was out of my mind searching every pub in Edinburgh for ye. And when I went to yer cottage, and ye weren't there, I thought ...I thought ...Christ I dinnae even want to say the words. Just thinking about it is tearing my guts out."

A little butterfly fluttered in her belly. "I'm sorry ..."

"No." He swept a hand over her hair and cupped her cheek, an unfamiliar light gleaming in his blue eyes. "I'm the one who owes ye an apology."

The unfiltered display of concern, dread and hope was visible in his face, making her want to alleviate the burdens on his shoulders and erase the worries she'd caused. He was trying so hard for her, a terrain she'd never encountered before when she was with Frank. She straightened and laid a soft kiss on his lips. "Well, I guess we just need to talk things over and ..."

Jamie gently pushed her back down onto the recliner. "Where do ye think ye're going?"

She frowned. "Ah, well, bedroom ... that's if you don't mind me staying over for the night," she mumbled.

"Is that so?" he whispered, a flicker of amusement lighting his eyes.

"Huh?"

"No."

"No?"

"Open yer thighs for me, Sassenach," he murmured, a muscle popping in his cheek. Without waiting for her reply or reaction, his lips coasted along her jawline, his hot breath on her skin, sending shivers spiralling down her spine.

"Jamie!"

"Sssh, let me love ye, Sassenach."

She wanted to object. There was so much she needed to say, express and unload, but her body had other things in mind. Her legs parted of their own accord, her desire to feel Jamie more potent than she realised.

Shifting on his knees by the recliner, Jamie slid his palm up her inner thigh. He stalled when he reached her centre and planted two fingers over the soaked seam of her panties, stroking the sensitive flesh underneath with deliberate slowness. Every particle of oxygen in Claire's lungs rushed out of her, lust turning the corner like a horse set free and thundering across the paddock. She could only close her eyes and allow Jamie to slip his hand inside the tiny scrap of garment that hid her modesty.

When his fingers slid down her wetness, her hips jerked on a moan and heat flashed in Jamie's expression. 

She grabbed his shirt, drawing him in for a kiss, to taste more of him.

"No," Jamie muttered.

"Please, Jamie. I need you. I want you inside me." They weren't the words she'd planned to say tonight. But she still meant it in a way that went beyond her physical need. She needed his presence, his heart, his love, his mind, his spirit, and everything that makes Jamie, Jamie.

"No, Sassenach," he whispered, shaking his head and biting his lip. His fingers parted her folds and teased her nub in a tight circle. "I want to watch ye."

Head dropping back, her brain started to short-circuit, and her pulse boomed in her ears. She almost cried out loud when Jamie's touch abandoned her briefly to push the blanket away and strip her panties off, baring her for his perusal. Not that she could find an ounce of shyness left to care at that particular moment. The way he was touching her, rid the last vestige of finesse and decorum she had left, writhing wantonly to the movement of his skilful fingers. She was so hot, she thought her skin would surely scorch if touched.

"Sassenach, look at ye. So fucking beautiful, so bloody perfect I could do this for eternity, and it would never be enough."

Jamie rubbed her swollen nub with his thumb, chuckling when her back bowed with a groan. His laughter subsided when he lowered his head and sucked the tip of her breasts through her shirt. Just when she thought she couldn't take any more of his ministration, he caught her nipple between his teeth and simultaneously, twisted his middle finger up inside of her.

"Oh God, oh sweet Mother of God," she whimpered. "I can't...oh, Jamie, please. It's too much."

"Aye, ye can,  mo chridhe," he said hoarsely, adding a second finger and pushing up her shirt to suck her nipple. "Move your hips more."

Jamie's command only drove her urgency higher. Unable to reply, her body did the talking and obeyed his instructions, her body thrashing as sob after sob escaped her lips. Her movements became more frantic when a coil inside her wound tighter and tighter, and his fingers delved in deeper. With her nerve endings going off like little bells, Claire moved her hips in time with his fingers. They drove in and out of her, faster and faster until she almost couldn't stand the oncoming onslaught of an impending release. It built, engulfed and intensified around her, just like in an opera when the act reaches a crescendo.

"Oh, my God, Jamie ...Jamie," she cried out, seizing the front of his shirt. "I'm...yes, yes, yes."

The climax billowed through her and clutched her muscles, blowing cinders at her nerves until she swore she would combust. Jamie's finger found her sweet spot and stroke it with swift, sure movements, a scream forming in the back of her throat.

"Aye, scream yer little heart out, Sassenach. That's my lass."

And she did, making her orgasm more luminescent and sweeping like she could jump into it and disappear. Perhaps she did for a few heartbeats, because when she finally opened her eyes, there was only the smell of Jamie's neck, the feel of his strong arms around her, even though she had no recollection of him pulling her close.

He kissed her softly, a small smile lighting his handsome face.

After her heart had settled into its usual rhythm, she reached out and touched his face. "Jamie, we need to talk." When he frowned, she quickly gave him a reassuring squeeze with her hand. "No ...it's nothing bad ...or anything like that. It's just that I have a few things I need to get off my chest."

Relief descended on his expression, softening his face, almost making her feel guilty she was the cause of the worried look. "Aye, tomorrow, we'll talk ..."

"But you're working, and we'd been putting this off ..."

"Are ye working tomorrow?" he asked, his thumb caressing the base of her neck.

"I have a late shift and ..."

"I'll take the morning off, and we'll talk." When she didn't answer, he pulled his phone from the back of his jeans pocket and made a demonstration of turning it off. "Phone off. Tomorrow, we'll have breakfast and talk. But tonight I just want to hold ye, is that alright, Sassenach?

She nodded, sighed and went limp, suddenly feeling drowsy but a lot lighter in her chest.

Moments later, he carried her boneless body to bed and laid her carefully down on her back. After a quick wash in the bathroom, Jamie stripped off his clothes, climbed into bed, and curved his front to her back, holding her tightly in the dark.

Just before sleep claimed her, she heard Jamie whisper, "Ye're mine, Sassenach as I'm yers," his arms pulling her in closer as if afraid she would get up and go. Before she could dwell on it, his words danced away with her consciousness into the oblivion of deep sleep.

#melodyheart #startingover #Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser #outlanderfanfic

[joshslater]

Grimsby pt. 5

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Declan greeted us with an “Oi, lads” as he walked past us to the kitchen. He took me completely by surprise. The beer, the weed, the fatigue, the everything had me zone out and only concentrate on what was immediately in front of me. The beer, the weed, the heat and smell of big Jace next to me, and the FIFA game I was slowly losing. I had completely forgotten the possibility of Declan. He returned from the kitchen, Stella in one hand and a Lidl bag in the other.

“O'Rourke down at 2 lit the grill. I bought some bangers for us. You coming Jace?” “Always”

He threw down the controller on the table and got up. I still wasn’t grasping what was going down. Jace looked down at me as I aimlessly was moving my team around while trying to comprehend what was happening.

“You’ll lose. Come.”

I accepted what he told me, pressed pause and got up to join them outside. The afternoon sun made everything too hot and too bright, after smoking weed in front of the TV for hours. Jace and Declan talked about something as we walked down the street to number two. I was too buzzed to try to comprehend. I could see a small group standing at the end of the street, in front of us. They looked young, all dressed similar to us, perhaps with less shirts on, and everyone holding a can or a bottle in one hand.

“I got one left” “What?”

I looked at Declan, followed his eyes towards his hand. He was holding out a nicotine patch towards me. I took it, removed the package and stuck it up inside my T-shirt, somewhere on the chest. Fuck, I’m still wearing the track suite from work, I realized. The one that didn’t smell like weed. Didn’t.

“This is Chayse. Lives in 10. He’s cool” “Cheers mate!”

I took a swig out of the bottle of blue wkd in my hand and nod towards the group. Where the fuck did I get that from? Who drinks that kiddie stuff? Just how fucked up am I, really? If they could tell I was high as a kite, which of course they could, they didn’t appear to give a fuck. Everyone was busy chatting, having a beer and whatever else they were doing. This wasn’t so much a party as it was a bunch of lads having a beers on the street, spilling out into the main road. A white, plastic outdoor chair was placed outside the door of number 2. An extension cord snaked its way from the house and was draped over the arm rest, with nothing plugged in. The BBQ setup turned out to be a couple of single use grills, coal on aluminium trays, probably bought at the nearest petrol station. Declan got a pack of vacuum packed hot dogs from his Lidl bag, tore it open, and dumped the sausages on one grill. One of the unfamiliar guys I’d just greeted turned towards me.

“Aight, did you catch Chelsea Arsenal?” “Of course”

It was one of the games I watched with Declan, and I wasn’t even drunk or debilitatingly high, like now, when I did it. I even remembered some of what the commentators said.

“What you think about the first score?” “It was his first for the season, was it?” “Was it? You might be right, mate. What’d you think about it?” “I can’t even describe it.” “With you, mate. Fucking epic doesn’t cut it”

I shocked myself that I could string together some commentary fragments with empty statements and pass them along as conversation. Not wanting to press my luck I tried to be as agreeable as possible through all the footie talk.

“Oi! Bun!”

Declan threw a hot dog bum at me, which I didn’t catch, but quickly scooped up from the ground. Not trusting my dexterity I put down my blue wkd next to the plastic chair. I stepped over to the grill and grabbed one of Dec’s sausages in the bun. I realized I was starving, as I bit into the hot dog.

“This is fucking great, mate!” “Lidl deluxe onion pork bang. Best there is. Farewell bang, innit” “You’re leaving?” “Want to beat the traffic. It’s been fun.”

I didn’t know what to feel. Most of all I was annoyed he’d drop the news on me like five minutes before he’d drive away. Communication wasn’t his thing though. But it felt like I was going to miss him. Without him I was back to knowing no one here. No, I knew Jace, I immediately realized. It’s like a relay, where I’m handed over, moving further and further away from where I started. Declan didn’t know who I was, but he knew I wasn’t Chayse Brown, at least not this version. Jace only knew what I was now.

Someone from the group took a seat in the white plastic chair, and another one connected a clipper to the extension and started to buzz his head. I couldn’t see a difference, as it was short to start with.

“Hey, Declan. Thanks for everything.” “Safe. Keep your phone charged.”

He walked away towards the car, stella in hand. I stepped back to the chair and grabbed the blue bottle. I took a swig out of it, and almost choked on my big gulp. It wasn’t my blue wkd but something far stronger. I looked at the label and saw a bottle of MD 20/20 blue raspberry. Still fucked up, apparently, because those bottles are nothing alike.

“Hey, are you stealing my shit!” shouted the boy in the chair, jumped up and started to puff his chest. “No, I’m... mistaken” “It fucking looks like you are stealing.” he was staring right at me, just inches away when he suddenly relaxed. “I’m just messing with you. That is yours?” he pointed at the blue wkd still standing next to the chair. “Yeah, I think so.” “Here, take over from Liam” “I don’t know how to... I’ve never used a clipper before.” “Nothing to it. Just move it around until it looks even.”

Liam handed over the clipper to me as the boy got back in the chair. He was right. There was nothing to it. In a few more strokes, though probably much slower than proper, he looked “even”. Not that I would know.

“Here, take a seat and I’ll fresh you up for Friday. Yours looks pretty mint, but I’ll fresh the sides for you.”

I had no idea what he meant, but took a seat to go with the flow. He lathered the sides of my head all around with shaving foam, and then picked up a Gilette razor from a kitchen plate and started to shave my head. It was all bizarre to me.

“You do this a lot?” “What?” “Hairdressing” “Just taking turns freshing up the lads for Friday. It happens.”

Someone new came up to me and stuck a can of Fosters in my hand. “Oi. I’m Connor”

I could feel the headache pulsate with my heartbeat as UK Bounce blared out of the phone’s alarm app. I was in my bed, no, on my bed, again without remembering getting there, and fully dressed. I would take the bus to the dock, I already knew that. Should I snooze or bother with a shower?

As I walked to the bathroom the door to the second bedroom was open, and I was reminded that Declan left yesterday. I wondered if he brought the plastic bag with my old clothes with him, or if he had already binned them. I looked into the room. A couch and a cheap home gym. I’d forgotten that it was even here, since I hadn’t looked into the room since the first day. Fuck, that was only days ago.

My eyes were red and I looked like I was decomposing. By contrast my skull was shiny, like a doorknob with a round little carpet on top. The slits in the eyebrow were more pronounced too. Apparently someone touched them up, though I had no memory of it. What was the name of the guy? Liam?

I took a shower, and some of the magic was back. It felt so good. I was hoping that some 3-in-1 would wash off some grease, and make me less shiny. I didn’t really do much, but then the people at the dock didn’t appear to give much of a fuck. I put on the the clothes I had on me when I entered the bathroom, lit a cigarette, and left the house. I felt like a zombie shuffling to the bus stop in the morning darkness.

I’d finished my cigarette by the time I got there, but still craved more, so I lit another one and inhaled deep. Why didn’t I bring a morning beer? Because that’s not what actual humans do, a little voice in my head whispered. Still, would have been fucking nice right now. Luckily the bus peeked around the corner, so I didn’t have to wait for long. I should probably learn the time table.

There were a few people on the bus, but not many. They were all staring like I wasn’t welcome. I guess I didn’t look my best after what I’ve been through. Saturday couldn’t come fast enough. I decided to sit at the back to avoid the glares of people. It wasn’t until I was just about to stomp out my cig I realized I was smoking on the bus. Fuck. And no one told me not to, not even the driver. In fact, I just realized, I hadn’t even paid fare. Why didn’t he tell me?

One glance at my reflection in the bus window, and I had my answer. I looked like trouble, and he didn’t want any. I felt guilty all the way to the dock, and plonked down two pounds at the driver as I exited the bus. Regardless what Liam, or whatever, said I did not intend to become a thief.

Drudge time.

[ankhlesbian]

FEFemslash Feb - Day 15 - Warmth/Bloom

Game: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Pairing: Marianne/Hilda

Title: sweet on you

Rating/Length: G, ~2.5k words

AO3 Link: Here

Hilda finds out that Marianne's never received any chocolates on Valentine's Day, and can't help but decide that's her problem to fix. Except, turns out making chocolate is harder than Hilda anticipated...

It was almost the 14th of Pegasus Moon. Hilda, as a whole, really, really liked Pegasus Moon. It had her birthday in it, the weather was chilly and perfect for cozy afternoon naps, and there was usually snow! Snow, which meant that not much at all could be done for fear of slipping or freezing to death. And snow wasn’t a half-bad view from her balcony, either. There was lots to love.

However, there was one major problem. Valentine’s Day. A day of confessions and gift-giving, which meant that Hilda was hounded by the hordes of guys who thought she’d care about them. It took a lot of effort to turn down all those confessions. And all the candy she got during them was usually cheap, bought from the same couple of merchants who peddled the stuff specifically at this time of year.

Not to mention she was expected to give people chocolates to be polite. She hadn’t bothered to do anything last year, and Claude had yet to let it go. Him and the rest of the Golden Deer were getting nothing this year, too. That’d show him!

“He was just looking for something to complain about,” complained Hilda to her stalwart companion in shoveling manure, Marianne.

“It does sound pretty bothersome,” Marianne, ever the sweetheart, knew better than to disagree. Although…

“What do you think about Valentine’s Day?”

Marianne blinked slowly. “Ah, I’ve never really celebrated it… It’s probably better that way…” She had half a smile at that, a sad smile that wasn’t fooling anybody. Hilda knew Marianne had a sweet tooth. Hilda knew Marianne was cute. Why wasn’t she getting any confessions? It was unthinkable.

“Hm.” Was all she said, and then she got back on track. “Anyways, have you seen all the homework the Professor assigned us this week? Where’s their respect for the holiday season?”

....

Later that night, Hilda found herself awake, staring up at her ceiling listlessly. She tossed. She turned. She chugged the glass of water she kept beside her bed. In the end, she groaned and dramatically flung open her door.

There was a problem nagging at her. Marianne and her lack of Valentine's candy. There was only one solution. Hilda would have to take things into her own hands. Literally. No, she wouldn’t stoop to the levels of buying disgusting ugly pre-made chocolates. There was a whole five days left until Valentine’s Day. Plenty of time to master truffle-making. She would do this the right way. Marianne deserved it. This was everyone else’s fault for not appreciating her enough.

The kitchens were open late into the night, and as long as you were polite, no one cared if you were underfoot. Hilda had both napped and snatched snacks from there before. How hard could making chocolates be? 

Hilda perused the available ingredients carefully. She’d need milk. And chocolate… powder? Paste? Whatever provided that distinct chocolate flavor. There was also a basket of peaches lying around. Marianne liked peaches, right? Marianne also liked flowers, and Hilda had seen plenty of edible flowers on the decorative desserts they’d fed her back at home.

The kitchens had plenty of flowers, some sitting in vases for freshness and others dried. Hilda would just experiment. It’d make the truffles prettier, give them a unique touch. She had it all planned out, could see the final product in her mind’s eye. Heart-shaped chocolates with an oozy peach center, topped with a tiny little flower, maybe even adorned with just petals in cute swirls, lovingly placed with the same gentle touch she made her jewelry with.

Hilda lit up one of the stoves and got to work.

....

Three hours later, Hilda was booted from the Monastery kitchens. There was chocolate goo in her hair and splattered all over her face. Her hands were blistered and burned. She reeked of burnt grass. At least five pots were now permanently ruined. This is why Hilda didn’t like doing things. Put in so much effort, and what’d she get? A bad hair day, stained clothes, and nothing to show for it.

After a shower, it was nearly three in the morning by the time she went to bed. She’d have to resort to the library tomorrow.

But first, she had to make it through class. Claude (because it could only be Claude), woke her up by heartily banging on her door. 

“Rise and shine, Hilda! Don’t want Teach to come and break down your door!”

Hilda stumbled out of bed, pillow in hand. She opened her door, threw the pillow at Claude, and slammed the door back shut.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“You’re making me tired, and I haven’t even seen you yet” she complained. When she emerged, fifteen minutes later with hair brushed and a clean uniform put on, Claude was waiting expectantly. He handed the pillow back and looked her up and down.

“Someone had a late night, I take it.”

“Don’t tell me it’s that obvious.” She poked at one eye, where there should’ve been some helpful make-up. If she gave away the surprise, it’d all be over. 

“Not really. You’d need to find someone pretty observant. Like, say, anyone with eyes.”

“This is your fault, you know.” Claude was the one who had gone and implanted all these thoughts about participating in her head.

Claude rolled his eyes, hands folded behind his head as they walked to class.

“Of course it is. I’ll just go ahead and apologize for the selfish, heinous act of wanting my dear friend to not be late to class.”

“You know what I’m talking about,” muttered Hilda darkly. Claude may or may not actually blab to Marianne if she told him what she’d been up to, but he would most definitely use this as evidence she did have effort to spare. The Goddess only knew what she’d get roped into then. 

For now, she had to power through class.

…

Hilda startled awake. “Claude! I swear—”

“Ah! I’m sorry Hilda, I-I thought you’d want to know that class was over.”

Hilda squinted up at Marianne, vision blurry from where her eyes had been pressed into her arm while she napped. She rubbed at her forehead with a hand.

“No, no, you’re right. Thanks.” She did a quick scan for Claude. No one could know what she was about to do. He was talking to Lysithea, and Ignatz was holding out a bow to the Professor. That was both sharp-eyed Golden Deer taken care of.

“H-hilda. Your hands…”

Hilda glanced down. Oh. “Training accident!”

“You… you hate training…”

“And this is why! Look what happens when I train!”

Marianne bit her lip. “Would you, um, I’m not very good at it yet, but, I could heal them for you. As thanks for helping me with chores.”

Hilda blinked. “You can already do burns?”

“I might mess them up. I-it’s probably a bad idea after all.”

“No! Think of my poor, poor, aching hands. You can’t leave them like this.”

Hilda was useless with magic. But Marianne acquiesced, lowering her gaze to where Hilda obediently held out her hands, palms up.

Marianne placed her hands on top of Hilda’s, her palm braced by Hilda’s fingers and her own cold fingers tickling Hilda’s palm, just barely touching them. And then they began to glow, light gathering, heavy and tangible, like the heat that radiated from a fire. It slowly burned brighter and brighter, Marianne’s fingers warming with it. It tingled, though Hilda wasn't even sure if anything was actually happening yet.

The glow faded. Hilda flexed her hands, surprised to feel no lingering stiffness.

“Hey, they’re fully healed!”

Marianne went to move away, shaking her head. “Ah, Professor Manuela would’ve been faster at it, though…”

Hilda humphed, clenching her fingers around Marianne’s hands to hold her in place. Her hands were back to being cool, and a little clammy. She could feel them absorbing the warmth from her own skin. 

“It doesn’t matter. You did a great job! And you were right here. Much less effort than going all the way to infirmary!”

Looking up into Marianne’s eyes to pass on the seriousness of her point, Hilda suddenly felt the urge to… to… to stand right up and kiss Marianne. She was in deeper than she thought.

“Well, I’ve got to head out now. Bye!” 

And so Hilda scooched her chair away from her desk with one quick movement and fled. 

She peered cautiously around the corner into the library. Linhardt was at a table in the corner, snoozing away. The rest of the coast was clear. She strolled in, acting as casual as possible, whistling a little fun tune. Linhardt wouldn’t wake up for anything less than the building catching on fire, so it was fine.

Half the spines of the books didn’t even have titles on them, and the Goddess only knew how this place was organized. Hida resorted to grabbing random books off the shelves and flipping through the pages as swiftly as possible. The longer she was in here, the higher the risk of being spotted.

Entreaty on the Political His— next. On the Biodiversity of Faerghus Mount— next. Hemodemographics: Crests and Blood Types. No wonder Linhardt was asleep. Was everything in here useless drivel? Did the Monastery not care at all about cooking delicious food? She couldn’t just ask any of the kitchen staff because they all hated her now. Maybe—

“Hilda? What are you doing here?”

Hilda froze, book in hand mid-way on the journey back to its shelf. She turned around, holding up the book with a smile.

“Oh, just looking for this!”

Annette cocked her head, eyes scanning the book’s cover. “The Ins and Outs of Cultural Diplomacy?”

“Homework assignment.”

“And you’re doing it?”

Hilda sighed. Annette was too smooth. “Look, I just want a stupid cookbook, okay? Are there any here?”

Annette looked confused, but then her eyes lit up. “You’re making someone a Valentine’s treat!” She was practically bouncing. “That’s so sweet of you!”

Annette elbowed past Hilda, heading for the back wall of the library. There, she rolled over a ladder and climbed up.

“What are you making? There’s a couple different guides up here.”

Hilda trailed after her. “Chocolates.”

Annette plucked a select few thin books from the highest shelf and climbed down, handing them to Hilda with a smile.

“You know, chocolates can be pretty tough for beginners. If you need help, Mercie’s an expert on this kind of thing.”

And so Hilda found herself carrying a stack of recipes and knocking on Mercedes’ door.

…

For all her supposed kindness, Mercedes was a cruel, cruel taskmaster in the kitchen. With a serene smile on her face, she watched maliciously as she forced Hilda to go through the labors of truffle-making. For three days straight they had been meeting up immediately after class, not parting ways until it was time for bed. Mercedes would heal up any burns or cuts Hilda managed to accumulate, part of the pact of secrecy Hilda had sworn her to. Sure, she’d love an excuse for Marianne to hold her hands again, but no one would believe Hilda had been training that many days in a row.

This was her last chance to get things perfect. All or nothing. It was for the best, because even Mercedes sweet-talking the chefs wouldn’t be enough for them to let Hilda back in tomorrow. It wasn’t her fault this was so different from jewelry making. Oh, it was similar. But the differences would slip Hilda’s mind, and boom. Burnt chocolate boiling and bubbling and exploding everywhere.

It was midnight when Hilda finished the last touch. A baker’s dozen of chocolates, some shaped like hearts, some shaped like flowers. Peach, strawberry, noa fruit, caramel. Alternating colors of blue and pink and white marking the truffles with swirls and elaborate designs. And sprigs of lavender here and there.

Hilda split the thirteenth chocolate in half, handing a piece over to Mercedes. They bit into them at the same time. All Hilda could really taste was sweet at this point. She’d eaten more chocolate in the last three days than she had in the entire last 18 years of her life.

“Absolutely delicious! I can tell that whoever you’re making these for is truly special to you.”

Hilda felt her face turning red. “Yeah, yeah. She is. I owe you one, Mercedes.”

Mercedes had also procured a cute box for her from the market, since Hilda was too paranoid to be seen out there.

She carefully packed up the chocolates, wanting to find the perfect arrangement but knowing that if she kept handling them they’d just melt.

“Good luck!” Mercedes called as Hilda marched back to her room. Tomorrow, she’d hand these over and confess. All or nothing.

…

She cornered Marianne after class. The other girl seemed more on edge than usual, wringing her hands together and refusing to meet Hilda’s gaze. Hilda frowned.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“I-I’m sorry. You’re mad at me.”

“I am?”

“You’ve been avoiding me… ever since I tried to heal your hands. I shouldn’t have experimented on you.”

Hilda couldn’t help it. She laughed. “Marianne, this has nothing to do with that! You did a swell job, we’ve been over this. I would never avoid you on purpose.”

Marianne frowned. “But… you ran away after class every time. I haven’t seen you around at all…”

This was it. “Well. I had something I was working on. In secret. It’s Valentine’s Day, y’know?”

Marianne glanced up, then her gaze went right back to the ground. “I, um, didn’t you say you hated today?”

Hilda gave her a little grin. “Yeah, when it was me receiving a bunch of nonsense confessions. But now I’m gonna do the confessing.”

“Th-then I should get going. I wouldn’t want to get in the way.”

Hilda took a breath, pulling the box out from behind her back. “You are the way. You’re cute, and thoughtful, and good with animals, and you put up with me. And you deserve the world. So, these are for you.”

Marianne’s eyes widened. “I… are you sure?”

Hilda huffed. “I spent three days learning how to cook these. I wouldn’t do that for just anyone.”

Marianne chuckled, and there. There was what Hilda had been longing to see. That adorable smile that lit up her whole face, wiping away the exhaustion she usually carried. Marianne accepted the box, holding it gingerly, gingerly, opening it with utmost care.

“They’re so pretty.”

Hilda preened, just a little. “Of course they are. I don’t half-ass everything.”

She watched with rapt attention as Marianne examined each and every truffle. “We should eat these together.” Marianne declared, sliding the lid back on. “S-somewhere with a view.”

Hilda beamed. “The Goddess Tower is probably crawling with couples right now. But I’m sure we can find somewhere.”

It was the 14th of Pegasus Moon. Hilda, as a whole, really, really liked Pegasus Moon. It had her birthday in it, the weather was chilly and perfect for cozy afternoon naps, there was usually snow, and it had Valentine’s Day in it! There was lots to love.

#marihilda #hildanne #hildianne #femslash february #hilda valentine goneril #marianne von edmund #fe16 #fe3h #it writes