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hops-hunny · 3 years

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Hello?

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Black!Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Request: N/A

Summary: Neville and (Y/n) get high together often.

Warnings: drugs( weed lmao), swearing, making out

A/N: This was based on the specific lyric below from Hello? by Clairo ft Reji Snow. Pothead confident Neville is my favorite headcanon dfregfefe. I also felt like writing for Neville bc after reading a lot of @lxngbottom‘s fics I was DEEPLY inspired.

“Are you into me, like I'm into you?

Do you wanna do the things I wanna do with you?

You're so close, and yet so far

I wonder how you look when you're in the dark”

The Weasley siblings all found themselves in absolute bliss when their parents told them they were going on a getaway. Apparently Arthur had learned about muggle spas and thought it’d be a lovely idea to take his wife to one for a much needed vacation after many years she had been caring for her children (and sometimes their guess) without barely any breaks. The gaggle of gingers all found it to be quite a wonderful idea too, but for other reasons. Although they had varying reasons of why they were excited for their parents to leave the house, Ron’s being wanting to invite over the other ⅔ members of the Golden Trio, Ginny wanting to wear that skirt that her mum always told her was ‘just a tad too short, dear’, and lastly Fred & George wanting to try out new and exciting inventions there was that one thing that tied them all together: wanting to get blazed out of their fucking minds.

However, as quickly as that mischievous glint formed in all their eyes, their mother said something they all dreaded.

“Oh and by the way, we’re leaving Percy in charge!”

A collective groan was shared as the boy in question held a proud and cocky smirk that once again, he was the most trusted out of his siblings. However as per usual, Fred and George were not giving up that easily.

“What are we going to do?! You know Percy will rat on us!” Ron whispered yelled at the other three through gritted teeth. They all sat around the quaint little living room, distressed at what to do. Ron had already sent a text (is that what they were called? He wasn’t used to the muggle technology (Y/n) had got them all to use) to both Hermione and Harry telling them to pack their bags. He’d never live it down!

“Oh relax dear brother of mine! Me and Freddie here suspected something like this would happen so we came prepared. Right Fred?” George said with a smirk as he looked to his twin to the right of him. George nodded before pulling out an envelope.

“Exhibit A also known as ‘Blackmail dear Percival Into Leaving the House for the Summer.” he grin grew wider as he opened the envelope pulling out the photos. In the photos, Percy was shirtless during a party in the gryffindor common room. He had a half drunk bottle of fire whiskey in one hand and a blunt in his other which was held to his lips. “Wouldn’t it be a shame if dear ol’ mum and pop anonymously got pictures of their golden boy doing such awful acts?” he cooed, feigning a voice of disappointment.

“While you two idiots may not be helpful for jack shit else, leave it up to you to have a plan to get into trouble.” Ginny said rolling her eyes, a small smile forming on her face. “Well I guess that’s settled then. I’ll hit up (Y/n), Ron you hit up Nev and tell him to bring the loud. Lots of it too!”

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

That’s how they all ended up where they are currently. ‘Exhibit A’ was more than enough to get Percy packing his bags and leaving for a friends house after their parents had left. And of course, Hermione, Harry, (Y/n), and Neville had all shown up at the Burrow bright and as happy as ever.

Although many people dealt around Hogwarts, Neville’s weed was always the best. He grew custom strains which were infused with other magical plants that had all sorts of properties. You wanted it to taste and smell like cheesecake? Done. Something odorless that packed a mean punch? Also done. He took good care of his product and went through the precautions to make sure it was not only safe but also that he didn’t get caught. He wasn’t always an avid weed smoker though. Originally, a friend had suggested it to him to help with his anxiety which had increased over the years but eventually it became less of an anxiety reducer and more of a favorite pastime. And hell, it left him with a pretty fucking nice amount of galleons in his pocket. It was also how he had met her.

He looked up at her form as she sat across the shed, looking as radiant as ever. She was laughing at something but he didn't know what over the sound of the music. One of his favorite things about her was how beautiful the whiteness of her smile was in comparison to her rich brown skin. It drove him absolutely nuts. It had only been a few weeks since he last saw her but as usual there was something new about her appearance.

He let his eyes wander over the work of art that was (Y/n). Her hair was different, her usual shoulder length black box braids had been swapped our for a beautiful set of honey blonde faux locs that stopped at her waist. In addition to her septum, she now had a nose ring on the left side of her nose and- was that a smiley piercing? Her skin was glowing vibrantly under the different hues of gold of LED lights that corresponded with the music. His eyes shifted down to her chest. 'Hm, she finally got the other one pierced' he noted due to the fact that her crochet bikini top left only the best bits of her breast to the imagination. And then he got to his favorite part. Her legs. Her supple, plush, smooth as glass legs. This wasn’t the first time he had stared at them longer than needed. He couldn’t help it, they were so fucking thick. And, were those his shorts? She must've stolen them from him last smoke sesh. He didn't mind though, she pulled off those denim shorts well and they hugged her in all the right fucking places.

“Bloody hell Nev, what’s taking you so long to roll the joint? Are you already that gone?” Ron groaned as he threw his head back. Neville looked down at the half rolled blunt in his hands, continuing to lick and roll it skillfully.

“Shut up Ron, just hit the fucking bong and leave Neville alone. Ol’ dramatic ass.” there was that honeysuckle voice he loved. God he could listen to her talk for fucking hours. I mean he had before. Her voice was sweet in the center and rough around the edges, a thick american accent still prominent in her voice. He smiled at that, looking up at her to find her already looking at him. As he continued to roll, he licked a fat strip on the wrap before shooting her a wink.

“Thank you, petal.” he murmured quietly knowing she hadn’t heard as he looked back down at his hands finishing up. He grabbed the same lighter that he carried with him everywhere before lighting the end. As he was about to take a hit, a certain pair of gloss coated lips leaned over his shoulders taking a hit as she wrapped her arms around his upper half.

Ron groaned again in irritation. “I hate it when you get the first hit! You always leave that damn sticky shit all over the blunt.” as he glared at the girl. She giggled before crawling off the wraparound couch taking her place next to brunette ruffling his long shaggy hair. He had been growing it out recently for no particular reason (definitely not the girl to his right).

“Ron you always buggin on something, nigga shut the fuck up! That’s why when you hit the blunt you leave it wet. Ol’ soppy mouth nigga I swear to god. Share with Mione.” she retorted as she leaned into Neville’s side looking up at him. He smiled down at her before wrapping his arm around her bringing her impossibly close. They both loved each other's touch when they were high. Whenever he’d touch her in one spot, (Y/n) always felt it in another- especially between her legs. She leaned up, kissing his freckled cheek with a smile. “Hey sir, how’s my favorite doing today?” she questioned as he bent down, placing a kiss right below her ear.

“You know I’m always content when you’re next to me, flower. You don’t even have to question it.” he whispered in her ear before pulling back. She felt her face heat up as she rolled her eyes shoving him lightly. She crawled in his lap, straddling him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He instinctively moved one to her waist, stroking the smooth exposed sepia skin that was there for his enjoyment.

“You always talking some mess, Nev. Why don’t you do something bout it?” she said, motioning for him to hold the blunt up to her lips. He ignored her, looking into her eyes as he took a fat rip. He removed his hand from her waist, gripping her cheeks with it, rings digging into her skin. He leaned impossibly close as he shot gunned the smoke into her mouth. His lips hovered impossibly close to hers. ‘Finally’ she found herself thinking as she closed her eyes. However, the feeling of his soft pink lips never hit hers and she opened her eyes to find him smirking at her.

“And ruin this little game we have? Never.” He said, finally passing the blunt to her. If he had to be honest with himself, he was scared shitless. He was afraid if he actually did make that final move, jumped that final obstacle that she would be gone from his life. Sure, they made out all the time. It was normal for the two of them to get quite handsy with each other during smoke sessions but he found not even that being enough. He didn’t just wanna have his hands on her when he was high or wasted out of his fucking mind, he wanted her all the time. He wanted to sneak into each other's dorms and cuddle till wee hours of the morning. To carry her things to class for her. He wanted to live, breathe, and sleep (Y/n). But, is that what she wanted? He never knew.

She sighed softly to herself, contemplating. It was very apparent to her that Neville wanted her just as badly as he wanted her. So, why had he never jumped the gun? Did he not want more? Was he really content with this little cat and mouse game they had? He couldn’t be, she knew who he was at heart which was a romantic just as she was. She was pulled from her thoughts as she heard the familiar beat of Hello? by Clairo ft Reji Snow. She smirked at him, leaning her forehead against his as she began to grind softly on his lap.

“Are you into me? Like I’m into you. Do you wanna do the things I wanna do with you?” she sung to him softly, her (e/c) eyes meeting his hazel ones. He moved his hands up and down her body as she continued to grind her hips down on his. He let his hands travel to her ass, gripping it firmly. She leaned back slightly as she hit the blunt before returning the favor he had earlier. “You’re so close, and yet so far. I wonder how you look when you’re in the dark.” (Y/n) continued singing as kissed up his neck, nibbling at the junction of his jaw and neck. He took one of the hands from her ass, moving some of the locs that had fallen into her face. He quickly tossed the blunt out of her hand into the ashtray in the table in front of them before leaning in and kissing her with such strong intensity.

The honey blonde haired girl moaned softly, already putty in the boy’s hands. Neville always knew exactly what to do with his hands. Where to kiss, where to tug, where to bite. Anything but actually dealing with the problem between her legs. She tangled her hands into the back of his hair, matching his lip movement. As he continued holding her ass with one hand, he used his other to stroke her cheek gently. A stark contrast to the kiss they were in which was wet, rough, and fast. He trailed his tongue over her lip which she gladly accepted. Their tongues danced together lazily as sweat began to build up on both of them. She pulled away partly, a trail of spit connecting them.

“Take this dumb ass jacket off. It’s the middle of July.” She grumbled as she began to unzip it, leaving him in some muggle band shirt she had gotten him one year from the states. She leaned back in, continuing to move her hips to the beat of the song. Neville began to move his hips up to match her movements. “Oh? So you got moves now huh? Who taught you those?”

“Don’t play dumb petal, you know you did.” He responded before gripping at her neck with his ringed hand. She gasped softly, looking into his blood shot blown out eyes. The music, the lighting, his touch? It was all much too much to handle. Her senses were overloaded by pleasure, the jane in her system. He tightened his hand some, leaning in closer. “You’re driving me absolutely mad, darling. Do you know that? I’d do anything you asked me to.” the movement of her hips had stilled but he kept going. She could feel the imprint of his member through his pants. Suddenly it was the only thing (Y/n) could focus on.

“Them Ravenclaw girls weren’t lying then, huh? You packin like that Nev?” she said suddenly. She knew he had asked her something a second ago, but the weed was really starting to hit. Her brain was foggy and hazed, the only thing she could think about now was him. She took one of her manicured hands, trailing it down his shirt till she reached his crotch. She gripped it in her hands, eyes widening slightly. He chuckled softly, catching her attention.

“Don’t act so surprised. You know I used to get around quite a bit.” He said, moving so his tent was resting against her inner thigh.

“Used to?” she questioned, laying her head on his shoulder with her eyes closed. She took in his scent sighing softly. Neville always smelled like a mix of lavenders, cologne, and that loud. She knew it from anywhere, especially when she smelled it in the amortentia they brewed during potions that one time.

“Yeah I don’t really pipe girls like I used to.” He moved his hands up, embracing her close as he kissed the top of her head. “Ever since a certain pesky little American girl started making their way into my life, she’s all I could think about.” she rolled her eyes some, punching him on the arm as he began to laugh.

“Don’t fuck around like that, that shit aint even funny.” she grumbled, pouting as she crossed her arms. “I thought you had an actual answer!”

“On god that was my actual answer, (Y/n)! You asked why and I told you why. Absolutely anyone could tell I’m mad for you.” Neville said as he uncrossed her arms, holding her small delicate hands in his large ones. He intertwined their hands, her sharp acrylic nails digging into his hands slightly. “Did you know when Keaton Willis asked you to Hogsmeade, I was so mad that I wouldn’t sell to him for 3 months?!”

“But I didn’t even go with him! Me and you went together to go get ice cream, remember?”

“So?! He still fucking asked you. I’m getting heated just thinkin’ about it.” He mumbled as he looked away from her. He pulled her closer, resting his head on the top of hers. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you dating such a loser. He’s not even a good guy and he’s always fucking short with his galleons when he buys. I have to practically hound the guy for my money. Yknow what? Fuck it.” he looked up at the brown skinned girl before holding her face in both his hands. He took in her features. Her plump lips, edges laid to perfection, face ‘beat to the gods’ as she would say. “Go out with me. Be my girl, petal. I can’t bear you not being mine for another second.” he said. She pretended to ponder for a bit before she looked back at him.

“Depends, will I get free weed? I expect free weed from dating the weed man, you know.” she said with a giggle. He rolled his eyes shaking his head.

“You already get free weed! Don’t pretend you don’t.” he said loudly, catching the others’ attention.

“What? Nev that’s not fair! You always make me pay and we’re mates! What happened to bros befo-”

“Ron you finish that and you ain’t leavin this shed with an eye, I can promise you that boy.” she whipped her head around quickly, glaring at the boy. Ron quickly shut his mouth knowing first hand that her promises were never empty. He gulped slightly before nodding, turning back to Hermione who handed him the bong muttering something about how he looked like he needed it.

“But to answer your question, Nev baby, I’d love to be your girl. Nothing would bring me greater pleasure than doing so.” (Y/n) leaned forward, leaving a lip gloss print on his cheek.

“Well I’m glad you said yes because it would’ve been very awkward explaining to everyone tomorrow where that hickey on your neck came from.”

“Nev!”

#black reader #black!reader #poc reader #poc!reader #Neville Longbottom #neville x reader #neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom x you #neville x you #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #Harry Potter

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mymelodyheart · 3 years

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All I Want For Christmas Is You Chapter 11 ~One More Day~ The Final Chapter

Previously in Who the Hell is Harry? ...

They lay there like that for a long while, listening to the fireworks subside until only a few isolated booms from a distance could be heard. Their breathing and heartbeats harmonised, bodies interlocking to fit each other. Finally, Jamie eased himself off Claire, kissing her lips tenderly before disposing of the condom.

Moments later, when he returned, she was on her side, watching him with a satisfied smile. "Happy New Year," she said hoarsely.

Jamie got into bed, pulled her into his chest, and bit her earlobe. "Happy New Year to ye tae. That was the best New Year firework display I've ever seen."

She laughed and slid an arm across his waist. Nuzzling her nose on the hollow of his throat, he felt her smile against his skin, but her hold on him remained only for a few seconds before she passed out cold.

Not wanting to disturb the perfection of the moment, he gathered her closer and whispered, "I love you," into her hair, hoping and praying that the New Year will bring them together for good.

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

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Laughing, Jamie and Willie noisily strode in from the kitchen backdoor at ten in the morning with Rollo in tow. They found Annalise and Claire making shortcrust pastry for the Cornish pasties and preparing sandwiches for lunch. Apparently, the boys were expecting a few of their mates to come over and help with a project.

With no forecast of rain for the whole week, the brothers had decided to knock down Jamie's old shed and build a new and bigger one. A day ago they'd torn it down, cleared the debris, levelled the ground for the extension, laid down some slabs for support and poured the cement for the foundation. This morning, they've completed the base and put up the wall frames, including the waterproof sheeting.

"Good morning, ladies." The brothers said simultaneously, making the girls smile in acknowledgement. Willie gestured for Annalise to follow him, leaving Jamie and Claire alone.

Jamie washed his hands, made himself a coffee and came around to where she was stood dropping cubed butter into the flour. "Have ye seen our progress with the new shed yet?" he asked. But before she could reply, he leaned in and gave her a swift kiss on the lips, making her knock the carton of milk over.

Claire gasped, and Jamie grinned with triumph for catching her off guard. He brought his cup up to his smiling lips and winked.

"I have," she laughed, picking up the milk and wiping the countertop. "Are you sure, it's a shed you're making out there and not a small house?"

He leaned back against the counter and smiled. He'd taken off his jumper and was now only wearing a white long-sleeved t-shirt that stretched across his chest, showing the definitions of his toned muscles and broad shoulders. His eyes gleamed in the soft morning light, and Claire thought of how handsome he looked, making her heart pick up a little.

"It's a shed, but I thought while I'm in the process of restoring it, it would be a brilliant idea to build an additional extension for when ye come over for a visit, and ye wish to write. I'll have a huge window facing the field so ye can look out when ye need an inspiration. It's a grand view overlooking the greens. I'll even soundproof it for ye, so ye willnae be distracted by outside noise."

She arched an eyebrow in surprise. These past few days, she started to notice a lot of new items cropping up in Jamie's cottage. There were a couple of floral throw cushions she'd never seen before. And after Annalise had casually mentioned how much Claire missed her mermaid blanket, a handmade crochet mermaid tail blanket had shown up one night on his sofa while watching a movie. His cupboard was now fully stocked with her evening herbals such as chamomile, Valerian root and lemon balm tea. There was even a pair of soft fluffy memory foam slippers, waiting for her whenever she stayed over. Somehow, she was sensing a sense of permanency and more and more each day, she was starting to feel she belonged to him and his home.

Claire tried not to examine it too deeply and focused more on enjoying the moment, but it was getting harder. Because as each day slowly neared to her departure date, the hollow in the pit of her stomach became wider. And tonight was her last night with Jamie.

"Well, I suppose I won't see the finished product until I come over for a visit," she said with a little sadness in her voice.

Sensing the shift in mood, Jamie put down his cup and closed in on her, his fingers coasting past her jaw into the back of her neck, gently urging her in. He stilled for a moment, smiling an inch from her lips, as she inhaled him, his masculine smell, the coffee on his breath, the faint intoxicating scent of his aftershave mixed with sweat. Then he closed his eyes and kissed her.

"What do ye want to do on yer last night? Fancy going out?" he breathed against her mouth.

She swallowed and shook her head. "Shall we stay in?"

He cupped her face, opened his eyes and held hers with his. "I was hoping ye would say that."

"You don't want to say goodbye to Annalise? It's her last day, too," she half-teased.

"I think she'd want to spend her last night with Willie," he said seriously this time. He glanced down at her lips. "As I do with ye. But I want to spend the evening, not saying goodbye but making memories." He looked back up at her. "Memories that will bring ye back to me sooner."

Her heart pounded. She knew what Jamie was trying to say to her.

She smiled at him. "I'd like that too, Jamie."

"Good, that's settled then."

..........

When Claire and Annalise brought out the Cornish pasties, sausage rolls and sandwiches for lunch, they arranged them on a makeshift buffet made out of wooden planks so the men could help themselves. Although it was in the middle of winter, the sun was out, and it was a lovely day to sit outdoors and soak up the heat. The hungry men descended on the food and sat on the benches Willie had earlier put out. Jamie filled his plate and grabbed a can of cider, and they sat on a thick blanket-covered ground, away from the rest, making sure the sun was on them since it was very chilly in the shade.

"The shed is going to be massive," she observed, her chin in her hand.

"That's the plan," he said, smiling at her, taking a huge bite of the Cornish pasty and humming in his throat to let her know how much he was enjoying his food. "Once the exterior is done, I'll send ye some photos, and then ye can tell me what colour ye want yer writing studio to be painted in."

Claire looked at him for the longest time and then sighed. "Why are you doing all this, Jamie? It's not like we've known each other for a long time."

"But it feels like we've known each other for a long time. Ye know it too." He wiped his mouth with a napkin. "And if ye dinnae like the wee studio, I can always turn it into a workshop."

She smiled. "At least allow me to put some money into it."

He shook his head. "Dinnae fash. Most of the woods we're using are from work, and I got the rest of the stuff from the reclamation yard," he explained with the eagerness of a young boy, his eyes all lit up.

She wanted to kiss him right there and then, and realised how much she would miss this place, especially him. He looked so rugged and at peace with his surrounding and very much part of it. And knowing that he wanted her to be part of his world, made her even more determined to wrap up her work in London as soon as possible and start that writing career she'd always dreamed of. Although a little niggling voice in her head was telling her to slow things down, she dismissed it, knowing that for once, her life had a direction she could look forward to.

She noticed, he hadn't put back his jumper on and was only wearing that long-sleeved shirt.

"Aren't you cold?"

He shrugged. "Here in the sun ...no' at all."

"I'm sat in the sun with you, but I can still feel the chill. Even after working all morning next to the oven, I could not for the life of me just wear a thin shirt like that in this Highland weather. Are you sure you're warm enough?" She frowned, looking over him.

"I am. Do ye want to sit on my lap so I can warm ye up? I have a few ideas on how to quickly achieve that." His eyes gleamed.

She crumpled a paper napkin and threw it at him. He laughed out loud, making the group of men look their way.

The sun rose higher, and the sky was cloudless, a rarity at this time of the year. Somewhere on a speaker played a Simple Minds song Don't You Forget About Me, and Rollo and another dog ran back and forth in the open field.

"I have something to ask you," she said, plucking a weed from the ground and watching the dogs frolic. "At the risk of sounding clingy and needy, I want to know if you've had a lot of girlfriends ...or say, sexual partners." She shrugged and looked down at her hand. "I-I can't help but wonder ...well, you know, not that I have anybody else to compare you to, but I must say you sort of know things, like when we touch and love each other. And you seem to be good at it. So I figured that maybe you've had a lot of experience." Her eyes suddenly widened when she realised what just came out of her mouth. She waved a hand. "I mean, I'm no prude or anything, and I understand a lot of people are early bloomers and have had a lot of sexual partners. I-I just wanted to understand ...if it comes naturally to you."

He grinned at her over his sausage roll as if he was pleased to hear the possessiveness in her tone. "I'm thirty years old, Sassenach, and in as much as I would have loved the idea of ye being my first, I must admit I didnae live the life of a monk. So aye, probably ye can call it that ... experience. But if ye must know, I've never been drawn to anyone like I am with ye."

She cleared her throat. "Fair enough, and since we're sharing our thoughts, I want you to know, I feel the same way." She bit her lower lip and thought over the words she wanted to say. "You kissing me on a first date, making love to me on our second, running after me at the airport on the third day. Very rash, I'd say."

"Only with ye." He laughed.

He slugged the last of his drink, and she got up and grabbed him another cider. "How about your ex-fiancee? Any lingering feelings for her still floating around in the ether?" She asked, sitting back down in front of him.

Looking at her straight in the eyes, he took her hand and rubbed the inside of her wrist. "I will always care for her, Sassenach. But what I feel for her is nothing more than friendship. She's about to be married, and she wants me to be the godfather of Simon's child. And if ye must know, I'm thrilled she's found somebody to share her life. I think Simon would have wanted that for her too as do I ...someone who will take care of her and their child." He twined their fingers together. "What we have between us is rare. Like what ye said, I was rash, but that's ever since meeting ye. Somehow I've lost the ability to guard myself. When it comes to ye, I lose all perspective and control. It's chaotic and scary at the same time, but I wouldnae wish it to be any other way."

She gave him a smile. "Sweet and convincing as you sound right now, I'm still not allowing you to come to London and visit me. It's too risky. I want you to get better first, and one day you will. I believe that."

"I believe that too."

They stared at each other for a while, their surrounding fading into a haze, and it felt like there were only the two of them left. Until the dogs' barking reminded Claire, they weren't alone. "Right now, I would like to kiss you," she said softly. "But I don't know what I feel about people watching us."

A gradual grin crept across his face as he let go of her hand. "Weel, I dinnae see how I cannot oblige ye. Just close yer eyes and dinnae mind them lads."

Smiling, he leaned in close and brushed his lips on the corner of her mouth. When she thought they were done and started to pull away, he caught her lower lip with his teeth, keeping her still. After a few heartbeats, they began to kiss, achingly slow and gentle, his tongue probing into her to tease, taste and mate.

The cheers, sallies and whistles from the men nearby kicked-off almost instantly, and even Rollo started to howl in unison. Intent only on each other, they ignored the raucous banter in the background and continued to kiss.

"Ye ken I'm gonnae get a lot of pelters for this," he murmured against her smiling lips, his eyes closed.

"Well, you might as well make it worth your while."

His chest rumbled with laughter, as he kissed her again, causing more cheers to intensify, utterly oblivious to their surroundings.

"Ah, here's my not so wee brother!" a voice cut through their own bubble, making them both jump.

Jamie tore his lips away from her, and they both glanced up. "Jenny!" He immediately shot to his feet and hugged the petite woman wearing a puffer jacket, black jeans and a pair of wellies. "When did ye get back? I thought I'd see ye just after Christmas."

"Aye, had a last-minute change of plan. I left yer pressies in yer kitchen, and Ian says he'll call one of these days to see ye. He's just got some catching up to do with work."

Claire absentmindedly wiped her hands on her jeans and got up, noticing the other woman's delicate features and black hair tied in a high ponytail. At first glance, Jamie's sister could be mistaken for an adolescent with her five-feet height and small frame. The only tell-tale sign that she was a Fraser was the same blue eyes and dark hair she'd inherited from Brian.

"I told ye no' to bother ..." Jamie's voice trailed off as he looked past her sister's shoulder. "You brought company."

Still not acknowledging Claire, Jenny beamed at Jamie and then motioned for the beautiful tall dark-haired girl standing several yards away to come over. "Ye remember Geneva? Aye? Met her at the centre today and we're going for coffee after. Actually, she told me she's going to be yer new therapist. Yer former one had to leave temporarily for the south of England because of some family emergency. Now isnae that grand Geneva's back? She's going to stay here for good."

The girl, Geneva practically skipped, stopping short of throwing herself in Jamie's arms as her eyes briefly caught Claire's. "Jamie!" she greeted breezily, giving him a slack embrace. "Nice to see you again."

"Aye." Jamie nodded, looking perplexed. "It's been a while. Didnae realise ye were around." Not waiting for Geneva's response, he grabbed Claire's hand, drew her to his side and planted a kiss on top of her head. "By the way, this is Claire, my girlfriend," Jamie said, with a hint of finality in his tone. It was almost as if he was giving a warning to his sister that there would be no discussion about it.

He must have noticed Jenny ignoring her presence and wanted to reassure her he was on her side.

Claire offered a polite smile, a few words of greeting and shook both women's hand, all the while conscious of Jamie's comforting hand on her back. Its weight served as a reminder the promise he'd made to her at the airport, lessening the sting of Jenny's lack of warmth.

"Weel, Jenny, Geneva, nice seeing ye both but I'm afraid I have to cut this short. As ye can see, I still have work to do and Claire and I are in the middle of discussing some personal matters. So if ye'll excuse us, both." Jamie gave his sister a quick peck on the cheek. "Thanks for the pressies."

"I'll give you a call one of these days to arrange for our first round of session," Geneva said, smiling at Jamie.

Jamie nodded and then he firmly grabbed Claire's hand as they edged past them, without another word. Once alone in the kitchen, Jamie pulled her in his arms and sighed into her hair. "Dinnae mind my sister. I'm sorry she wasn't as welcoming to you as the rest of my family."

She swallowed. "I'm fine, really, and I understand. Jenny is only concern about you. Who is that girl, Geneva?" she asked.

He exhaled and stroke her hair. "A friend of my sister. She used to live in the village but moved to Glasgow a while ago. I guess she's back and will be my new therapist."

"Oh, alright."

Jamie hugged her tight. "I want ye to know, it's ye and me now, Sassenach. I need ye to trust in that. Ye with me?"

She buried her face against his chest, as Jamie's words plunged deep and unearthed the truth she'd been grappling with ever since the count down to her departure date begun. For years she'd been living in a fog in London with no sense of direction searching for something she never had a name for. Now that she'd found it, she didn't want to spend a long time analysing it while doing a job that never gave her a sense of fulfilment. She knew now Jamie would follow her anywhere in the world, but she didn't want him to do that and lose a piece of himself. This was the place where he belonged, and she would find a way to belong here too, with or without Jenny's blessing.

She snuggled closer into his hold. There was a reverence in the way he held her, and all she could think of how cherished, safe and anchored she felt. More than ever, she felt secure in his affections and more optimistic about their future. Jamie was right. All that was left was them. Who would have guessed a month ago she would have her life all planned out around this man in such a short time.

Shivering slightly with excitement, her mind flitted through the countless tasks that needed to be done before she could start her new life. To get back to her Jamie.

Looking up at him, she smiled. "It's you and me now, Jamie and I trust in that. Always."

He looked relieved as he relaxed in her arms, telling her something had lifted off his chest.

..........

That night, Jamie watched Claire from the sofa as she rearranged her suitcase for the umpteenth time. His parents had given her a boozy fruitcake, homemade preserves and a bottle of single malt to take with her, and she'd insisted she didn't need another bag to make everything fit in.

Though her beautiful face looked concentrated and determined with the task at hand, her whisky eyes looked haunted, already dreading the time when she would leave. They'd had a light supper earlier and made love twice, and there was only one truth that mattered. They loved each other. Though he didn't want her to leave, he needed to let her go, for now, be the voice of reason and the face of courage for what might be a lengthy separation. God knows, he understood what she was feeling, but he didn't want their last night together to be filled with uncertainty. He wanted tonight to be a celebration of their love and the future to come.

How many times had he thought of persuading her to let him come even for just a few days? But then again it wouldn't be fair to her if she had to worry about him every single minute of the day when she would be better off concentrating on the work she needed to do. He had enough on his plate as it was with his arboricultural business and his own mental health, and he needed to refocus his attention on that.

He told himself, it was a wee sacrifice, and this time next year, she would be here for good.

With a sigh, he slid down to the floor and picked up her travel diary.

He glanced up at her, waiting for her permission. When she nodded, he smiled. He liked that they sometimes communicated without talking, like it was their own wee secret, instinctively knowing how the other felt or when the other was looking trying to get one's attention.

He carefully opened the travel diary which was thick with postcards Claire had pasted on its pages. A few photos slipped out. Thinking they were postcards, he was about to slide them back into the diary, when he realised he was looking at one of Claire's family photos. His heart leapt, and his eyes immediately zeroed in on Claire's father, confirming his suspicion. Harry is Henry Beauchamp! But how and why? Goosebumps coasted down his back. He didn't know what to feel other than have this urge to laugh out loud. He'd never believed in spirits or ghosts, but something inside him told him tonight was not the night to delve into it. He needed to talk to his godfather and find out more about Harry. And find out why Claire's father's spirit was helping him.

He felt Claire's eyes on him, and they stared at each other for a few moments. He put the diary down, and he opened his arms, and she slid into his embrace and onto his lap.

He breathed in the clean scent of her hair and savoured the length of her body, fitting perfectly to his. His hand travelled down the curve he'd memorised and worshipped with his lips and tongue and touch. And he realised this woman had healed him, with her presence and humour and stubbornness. Harry must surely approve.

Her whisper drifted to his ears like a wisp of smoke. "I have to leave tomorrow."

"I ken."

"Oh, God, but I don't want to."

He pressed a kiss to her temple. "I ken."

She tilted her head back, a soft smile curling her lips. "Speechless for a change, huh?"

He laughed, even though his heart was ripping apart at the idea of her gone from his bed and everyday life, realising what a gift she'd given him this holiday season. "So many things to tell ye but we have little time left. So I'm just gonnae hold ye like this to make up for the long winter ahead."

She blinked twice, a moist sheen apparent in her eyes. "Always the sensible and practical one, aren't you? "

"I willnae be tonight."

Claire caught his intention, and the longing they thought was already sated rose between them once more. He kissed her slow and thorough, taking his time, savouring the taste of chocolate, whisky and sweet honey, sinking deep and demanding everything. And she gave it all and much more, as they made love until all their energy had been spent and fell into a deep sleep in each other's arms.

..........

Claire walked out of the cottage and found Jamie waiting for her, her suitcase already deposited into the rental car. Willie and Annalise were in their own bubble locked in each other's embrace, whispering promises and secrets. She smiled at them, her heart hurting. Though Annalise's and Willie's relationship looked seamless, they'd had their own share of teething problems resulting in a couple of fights. Claire was glad they'd made up already before their departure. Claire walked with heavy feet over to them and cleared her throat, making Willie grinned boyishly at her. He let go of Annalise and gave her a big hug. Jamie did the same and enfolded her friend into a tight embrace.

"My brother and I are going to miss ye both" Willie whispered into her ears.

"Me too. I heard from Annalise, we'll be seeing you in a couple of weeks. Is that right?"

Willie laughed and drew away. "Aye but unfortunately, I willnae be taking my brother with me. Someone has to be here to run the business."

"I know."

"I'll bring ye his love letters though," he teased.

She laughed.

With one last squeeze, Willie let her go. Claire watched Jamie said his own goodbyes to Annalise, making her friend tear up even more. Who would have thought, Annalise would be reduced to a bumbling mess when she had always been the one who had everything under control. Claire watched them both laugh with moisture in their eyes, both trying to downplay what they were feeling.

"Take care of my lass," Jamie whispered gruffly. "Ye have my number in case anything happens. Ye can call me anytime."

Annalise laughed and pulled Jamie in for another hug. Claire knew Annalise was trying to hide her own tears "You have my number too. Send me some candid photos or videos of Willie, whenever ye can."

"I will. I have a few embarrassing ones already on my phone. I'll send them once ye're in London."

Annalise wiped the tears with the back of her hand. "I'd love that."

Willie motioned Annalise over for another final goodbye.

Her friend looked at Jamie before walking over to Willie. "I'll see you when I see you."

Jamie nodded, smiling.

Claire faced Jamie, sliding her arms around his waist. "I don't like goodbyes," she whispered. "I wish I could teleport myself now to London, so I could just go back to bed and sleep off this feeling."

Jamie caressed her cheek, his soft blue eyes filled with adoration. "Dinnae be sad, Sassenach. Enjoy yer trip back home and have a few laughs with Annalise. I took ye away from her a lot of times, keeping ye all to myself. Maybe ye can both catch up with whatever ye lassies talk about."

"I'm glad I'll have her with me on the way home. She will at least keep me distracted from being sad."

"Ye'll keep one another distracted."

They smiled, and Claire was about to say something when a loud excited barking filled the air, and she glanced over to see Rollo bolting towards them, tongue lolling with excitement. She laughed and let go of Jamie. "I haven't seen the kitten. Where is he?"

"Oh, Adso?

Claire frowned. "Adso?"

"Aye, I've named the wee cheetie, Adso. My ma used to have a cat called Adso, and I couldnae think of any other name, so I'm calling him that."

"Goodness, what a horrible name!"

Jamie laughed. "Try saying that to my ma. Anyway, he's at Mrs Fitz's for now until he's big enough to be on his own."

Smiling, Claire got down to her knees and hugged Rollo, burying her face into its warm fur and inhaling the doggy smell. "Going to miss you, handsome," she murmured, stroking the dog's back. "I'll never forget our first breakfast date. You were a perfect gentleman."

Rollo replied by nudging her neck with his snout.

She unfolded herself from the ground and walked towards the car, where Jamie waited. Annalise was in the driver's seat already while Willie leaned on the window talking to her.

Claire glanced at her watch. "I'll call as soon as we arrive home."

"Looking forward to it."

"Well, this is it." She stuffed her hands in her jean pocket and looked away, rocking to and fro on her heels. "Try that mediation I told you about so you don't have any nightmares at night."

"I haven't had them for almost a fortnight, so I guess you have to talk to me on the phone until I fall asleep," he joked.

"That's very good, Jamie," she said, looking at him thoughtfully, this time ignoring the jest that was common in their conversation. "But try to look into meditation. If it isn't your thing, then at least you've given it your fair shot."

"I promise I'll give it a go tonight."

She smiled. "Good."

"And one more thing, Sassenach."

"What?"

"This." He braced her jaws with both hands and kissed her tenderly, the warmth and feel of his mouth, making her sigh, and her heart expand. When he raised his head, he had a beautiful smile etched on his face, almost beatific if it weren't for the mischief that always seemed to shine from his eyes. "I love ye, Sassenach."

"I love you too. See you around?" Claire whispered, suddenly feeling the odd lump in her throat.

"I'll be waiting."

She stepped away from his hold and quickly got into the car, allowing herself to take one last look at Jamie through her window. Time slowed in that instance, as if her brain needed a mental photograph, a keepsake to give her strength in the times to come. With his legs braced apart, one hand on Rollo's head, his coppery hair blowing in the wind, the leashed strength radiated in waves around him as his pale-blue eyes locked with hers. Annalise started the car, bringing her back into this moment, and he smiled and raised his hand in goodbye. She knew that took a lot of effort to keep that happy expression plastered on his face, so she smiled back, though wobbly, and blinked back the tears. A choked sob rose up from her throat, and it felt like she was losing a piece of herself she'd just found.

With one deep fortifying breath, she tore her gaze away from him and looked straight ahead, as Annalise reversed and drove away.

This time, she didn't look back.

She knew if she did, she'd never leave.

Dear Readers,

Well, here we are ... the final chapter of All I Want For Christmas. I thought I'd still be writing this until Easter. 😂 My problem with me is I get so focused on one scene and write too lengthy details about it, instead of quickly moving to the next. But hey, we live and learn. And the main thing is, I finished this story, even though two days later than I projected.

If you think the ending to this chapter is sad, please don't be disheartened because there will be an arc or Part 2 as I wish to call it.

As I mentioned in the previous chapter, I have decided to make this story into a series. The title of the series is, WONDERWALL. So if you wish to subscribe to the series, click here. As for part 2 of this series, I still have no definite date when I will publish it, but you can always subscribe on AO3 here or check my Tumblr blog if you wish to be updated.

My plans are to start publishing the second part around holidays/special days. So either before Valentine's day or St. Patrick's day, all depending on how well I've rested and how quickly I can put the story together.

Having said that, I thank you all for being part of the journey with this story, and I look forward to writing part 2 of Wonderwall for you. And also thank you so much for the kudos, feedback and follows. It warms my heart to know that you enjoy my story. Big hugs for that!

So for now, I wish you good health and strength in these strange times. Keep the good vibes up, take care always and sending you all love. X

PS: I will be updating the Masterlist of this story soon here.

#melodyheart #all I want for christmas is you #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser #outlanderfanfic

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renee-writer · 2 years

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May Soul Calls to You Chapter 11

AO3

Time marches on. Two other babies are born. Amelia has a son and Mary a daughter. Claire is getting close herself at Almost nine months. Jamie request that she stay indoors during that last month. They have a midwife come over from the Grants. Both are a bit concerned after the hard birth of Alex and want someone close.

Laird Grant and his wife are happy to help as Claire had delivered their granddaughter. They have become quite close and help each other. The Campbell’s to their north, have become friends as well. Jamie recalls that the two clans got along in the time before but, this is a new time.

His thoughts drift back to the conversation that night with his father and he know’s he is right. Whatever happened in the past needs to stay there. It is futile to try to sort it. Even with people thinking Claire and he had gotten together when he was only 14, it didn’t bother him. He has a wife and two beautiful boys with another child on the way. Let people think what they will. As the future Laird, he doesn’t care. He protects his wife, when there is need to. With her and Alex’s advanced knowledge of Gaelic, she has integrated quite nicely.

Claire sits in the living room watching the babies. Amelia and Mary’s newborns and Jenny’s twins. The other boys insisted on helping Jamie in the stables, even though all were under five with Fergus but three. He loves Alex and follows him around everywhere. Alex takes his responsibility as a big brother seriously. He makes sure Fergus gets in the house when they come in. When they take their naps, he allows him to hold his bunny, even though Claire knows how dear to Alex it is.

She smiles recalling that Wee Jamie is jealous that Fergus and Alex have something they share at naptimes. He wants a cuddle thing too. She has found out not long ago , that is why, as she watches the babies, she decided that it is time to knit the boys their own rabbits. New for her boys and completely new for her nephew.. There is yarn a plenty and she has a fair hand.

The new rabbit would be a perfect gift for Fergus on his birthday. They decided that the day Murtagh brought him home would make an excellent birthday for him. He is a Fraser that was also decided.

The boys lay in the Great Room at naptimes, on the floor or chairs and Claire would crochet and tell them stories until they fell asleep. One day, after they were all asleep, the post was brought in. There is a letter, from Leary to her mam. She has been sending one a week, begging to come home.

“Her granny makes her work, that is her problem, won’t let her play around.” Amelia sits and nurses her son. She reads the letter then throws it in the fire. “Milady, the child needs discipline. I have discussed with my man. If she would behave, I would have her here, learning to be a midwife. But, as she has an unhealthy obsession with Milord, she will stay with her granny and learn a trade there. It shames me the way she acted here and that I had to send her away.”

Claire has visions of Leary, but not here and older then 14. Her old memories are being drowned out by new. “Amelia, Leary is your child. You know what is best for her. If you wish her back, I am sure the Laird would agree.”

Amelia dismissed that idea with a wave of her hand. Her daughter was safe and cared for. She wouldn’t have her back to disrupt this beautiful household.

Jamie walks in, just before lunch, to check on everyone. The boys are all napping on chairs or the floor. The babies tucked into their bassinets, all comfy. His wife is nodding off. He comes in and kisses her forehead before heading into the kitchen.

Claire had back pains all day. She thought they were from sitting so long. Until the first contraction hit and took away her breath. “Jamie,” she calls out as soon as she can. “Tha feum agam ort anns an t-Seòmar Mhòr!” Alex awakes, sees his mam in distress and hurries over to her. “ Faigh d' athair. Dèan cabhag!” As must of the time they speak English in the house, what Gaelic is used, it’s an emergency.

Alex arrives in the kitchen, breathless before his father. “Da, mam needs you right now!” as forceful as he can. Jamie immediately stands and walks into the Great Room.

“My Sassanach, what is wrong?”

“I am in labor. Get the midwife, fetch Jenny, Alex, so she can help me upstairs. Hurry lads. The pains are coming fast!” Alex ran, screaming for his auntie. Jenny comes at a run. She puts it together immediately.

Looking over at Alex, she says, “Get Mrs. Crook so she can sit with you. You stay down here with the other lads, help keep Fergus and Jamie occupied. I am taken your mam upstairs. When your da returns, have him come up. Also, have Mrs. Crook, bring up some boiling water.”

Soon, the midwife came running with Jamie on her heels. When he tries to sit down in the Great Room, his son informs him that his presence is requested upstairs. “Tha AuntieJenny ag ràdh gum feum thu a dhol suas an staidhre còmhla ri mama. An tèid thu agus dèan cinnteach gu bheil I ceart gu leòr, mas e do thoil e?”

He takes the stairs two at a time and when he walks in, he finds Claire, laying on their bed. The midwife has her shift up to her mid thighs. “I just checked her, Mr. Fraser. Get behind your wife please. Your child or children, are on the way. Claire, are you ready to push?” They look at each other. Twins! Please no!

Claire starts to push and push. A half hour later, there is a cry that could wake the dead. A little redheaded lass, had came screaming out of her mam. She is perfect. Absolutely perfect. With her red hair, she has blue eyes, just like her father. As Fergus looks more like Claire, it is only right and proper. The afterbirth is delivered as the midwife and Auntie Jenny check the lass over.

Claire is cleaned up and placed in bed. Her child is brought to her. She immediately takes down her shift and starts her feeding. Jamie stares at the most beautiful sight he has ever seen, his goddess wife feeding their daughter. Jenny comes over and hugs her brother, kissing him on the cheek.

“I will bring the boys up as soon as Fergus awakes.” She then slips out with the midwife. Jamie gets down on his knees, makes the sign of the cross, and he says a prayer of thanks for another healthy child, a lass he will get to watch grow up, from her first breath. He rests his head on the bed and cries tears of joy. He has his wife, his son’s, and a new daughter. He looks at Claire and sees her smiling back at him. He is so blessed.

“He loves me and always will.” She thinks as she scoots over and makes room for him on the bed. He happily joins her and holds his wife and daughter close.

Some moments later, the boys enter. The had run in but stop dead at the sight of their parents and the new bairn. “Come, mo macs.”

Alex jumps up on the bed and Jamie catches him before he can jostle his mam and sister. He then helps Fergus up. The sit patiently on their Da’s lap and watch their sister. Alex knows this is a new child to protect. He was the big brother to Fergus and this brand new baby girl. After she finishes eating, Alex gets a good look at her and thinks, “She looks just like me and da!”

Jenny closes the door. Other family !embers can wait. She has never seen her brother so happy. As she stands at the the door, tears come. She is so happy for Jamie and Claire. She recalls the torment he went through before Claire came back. She recalls the time before though they don’t seem to. Ian has both his legs, not losing one in France. He is happy. Everyone is. Instead of having Maggie she had twin son’s. Maggie will come next, she has a feeling. She places her hand on the door and asks God, the Almighty and Mother Mary, to protect her family. She asks Bridget’s help also. They are very Catholic with roots that went back to paganism. Jenny wipes her eyes and went down to tell Brian about his new granddaughter.

Ian stands up and takes his wife in his arms and hugs her while she wept happy tears. He to recalls the time before. But, like his wife, it is a secret he would keep.

#my writing #outlander fanfic #my soul calls to you #jamie and claire #cannon divergence #outlander fandom #modern au

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vierschanzentournee · 3 years

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Centaurus, Pegasus, Cygnus?

tysm!!

Centaurus: Favourite holiday?

If that means holidays as in annual festivity, I think it has to be Christmas - all the elements of it are nice, but it also has fairly weak competition, as Easter in my deeply irreligious household is essentially “devouring chocolate rabbits day” and Halloween is much less fun now that I just have to chaperone my wee sister and her various, mostly evil friends. My real favourite holiday is actually the Four Hills Tournament though, I didn’t choose this URL for nothing.

Pegasus: Favourite place to be?

Alone in my bedroom, doing something elderly like crocheting or reading or, uh, playing Assassin’s Creed. Special mentions also go to daytrips to Edinburgh and St Andrews, mostly to visit bookshops, with my cousins, which are tragically now illegal.

Cygnus: Favourite weather?

If I know my cat is indoors, I do love a good storm (although unfortunately I can’t turn off the part of my brain that’s like THINK OF THE DAMAGE THIS COULD CAUSE TO THE HOUSE). I’m also fairly comfortable if it’s sunny and between 16 and 20 degrees, although I probably couldn’t call it my favourite.

#if it goes above 20 degrees we're moving into the danger zone and above 25 i will not open my mouth to do anything except complain #urtica-dioica-22

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aye-write · 3 years

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Summary: Research student Isla Reid has been fascinated with the legend of the Kildonian Chessmen - a trio of mythical Pokemon rumoured to have lived centuries ago on the remote region of Kildo - for as long as she can remember. So, when a museum exhibit on the Chessmen is set to open in Kildo’s Hydrogate City, coinciding with her independent research project, she packs herself and her trusty partner Furret onto the long ferry journey bound for this new region.

However, when she arrives in Kildo, thoughts of her research, new friends, and an entire Pokedex’s worth of new Pokemon, are quickly dashed. Kildo is a troubled place, beset by natural disasters and fierce rivalries among its people. Isla suddenly finds herself at the centre of a centuries-old plot to invoke the wrath of the Chessmen, and is set on a race against time to stop them, before it spells destruction for the entire region.

Other Links: Read it on Ao3!

Tags: OC Pokemon journey, OC region, Fakemon region, bisexual main character, found family, ace main character.

If you are not interested in these posts, especially as I know Pokemon journeyfic is fairly niche, please blacklist the tag #Checkmate. Most of the story will be put under a Readmore anyway!

Author’s Note: If you’re interested in more information, exclusive updates, character art, and teasers for this fic, please consider following its sister tumblr @kildo-pokedex

*****

Chapter Two

The kitchen was teeming with heat when Isla walked in. Everyone’s eyes flickered towards her, leaving her feeling very much like a prized Miltank on show. Heat crept into her cheeks. She glanced around, trying to find somewhere to let her gaze settle. Skye and Blair were working through plates of pancakes. Kenneth leaned against the countertop sipping black coffee. Rhona had her sleeves rolled up and was tending to something on the stove. Anxiety spiked in her chest. Discounting Nana Morag, she was the last one up.

“Good morning!” Isla said, trying to inject cheer into her voice.

Rhona turned around to face her. “Good morning, chick!”

She was smiling. Good. At least Isla knew she hadn’t committed some unspeakable faux pas before it even turned ten in the morning.

“Have a seat,” Rhona continued. “Do you want tea? Breakfast? It’s just pancakes today, so I hope you like them.”

What kind of world did she live in where home-made pancakes were “just pancakes”? Rhona obviously didn’t get enough appreciation. “I love them! And tea would be grand, thank you.”

“Help yourself, there’s some in the pot.”

A fat teapot sat in the middle of the table with a brown tea cosy pulled around it. Fixed with a pair of floppy wings and a crocheted head, the Pokemon it was supposed to represent looked like a fatter, happier version of Rhona’s Ruchter. Isla sploshed milk into her tea from a jug that looked suspiciously like a Miltank and loaded it with sugar, the first sip sending a pleasant, energising warmth through her.

The tea worked its magic on Isla, but everyone else looked pale and withdrawn, like they’d woken up on low battery. Isla sipped her tea and battled between two impulses that both felt equally rude.

Eventually, she settled on, “Is there anything I can help you with today? Like around the croft or… or anything?”

Blair leant back into his chair and stretched. “It’s all done,” he said. Something in his back popped, the noise like a gun going off.

Isla blinked. “Really?”

“Yeah. We start at six.”

“In the morning?”

Everyone stopped. Kenneth’s eyes found Isla’s over the rim of his coffee mug.

“Sorry,” she murmured. “I just didn’t… hear anything.”

“We wouldn’t ask you to help out with anything,” Rhona said kindly. “And we didn’t want to wake you either. Especially with last night’s storm. We’re used to it here, but it can be quite distracting for folks not local.”

Isla had almost forgotten about the storm. The mention sent the image of the child from last night flashing into her head like the sear of a lightbulb. Her fingers tightened around her mug of tea. “Yeah,” she heard her voice waver. “The thunder and lightning were something else.”

Rhona’s eyebrows creased. “Thunder and lightning?”

“Yeah,” Isla said. Then she saw everyone else’s expression. “You guys didn’t hear it? It was like… It was like the world was coming to an end out there.”

They all returned blank looks.

“Well, did you guys notice the power going off?” Isla tried. “About 3am, I think it was.”

“I was asleep,” Skye said, spearing her pancakes and oozing sauce all over the table.

“So was I,” Rhona said, and Kenneth nodded his agreement. Isla was beginning to wonder if that man ever spoke.

Everyone looked at Blair, who bristled under their stares.

“I don’t remember the power going off,” he said, swilling the liquid in his mug. It smelled bitter and strong. Black coffee. No wonder.

“Then you didn’t see the—” Isla stopped herself. What would they think if she told them what she saw? She wasn’t even sure she knew what it was. Something deep inside her told her to hang onto it. At least for now. At least until she could do some further research.

Luckily, her trailing off went unnoticed as Rhona put a plate of pancakes down in front of her. She busied herself adding sugar and a squeeze of lemon as conversation slowly resumed around the kitchen table.

“So what’s on your agenda today, Isla?” Rhona asked, sitting down heavily in the spare chair.

“I’d like to get started on my research,” Isla replied, her mouth full of soft, fluffy pancake. “I brought some books and copies of old script with me, so I’d like to start organising my thoughts and think about what I’d like to tackle first.”

The others nodded politely as Isla explained her plans. Kenneth was the first to leave, dumping his coffee mug in the sink and ducking outside. Isla saw him lumbering towards the field of Wooloo in the distance a few moments later. After that, the rest of the family moved off like falling dominoes, until it was only Rhona and Isla left at the table.

“You’ll need the Wi-Fi password,” Rhona said, tearing off a strip of paper. “You might have a couple of wee connection issues since you’re a bit far away from the router, but you can always come down and work in the living room if you need to. Here,” she handed Isla the paper with the code. “We’ll try keep out of your way. We’ll be out working on the croft for a bit. Skye’s got some work to do in her room, but she should give you peace. Oh, and help yourself to anything you like from the fridge. Lunch will be about 1 o’clock. I’ll shout you down or I can take something up to you if you like?”

“It’s okay, Rhona,” Isla interrupted gently. “You’re doing so much for me at as it is. I’ll come down for lunch. I’ll probably need the distraction,” she paused. “Thank you, Rhona. I mean it.”

“It’s okay, chick. We’re family. That’s what we do.”

With that, Rhona headed out, leaving Isla standing in the kitchen, fighting a lump the size of a walnut in her throat. A minute to compose herself and she turned with renewed determination towards the stairs.

Back in her room, with the door shut against the world, she let out a long, slow sigh. The bedroom wasn’t the best as far as study spaces went. It was pretty small for a start. And like everything else in the house, it was cluttered and claustrophobic. But it was welcomely cool after the humid heat of the kitchen and after taking ten minutes to straighten up her things and clear the desk of all the tat and mess, she was starting to see its potential as a working space.

Isla unearthed her laptop from under a pile of clothes and plugged it in. As it chuntered into life, she released Soba, who curled herself up into a tight ball on the rumpled bedclothes. The WiFi was a bit dodgy as Rhona had fretted, but it was serviceable. As long as it didn’t drop entirely whenever she’d have to have a video call with the university department, she’d be fine.

For the first ten minutes, she picked between a handful of internet tabs tuned to information she’d found vaguely useful in the initial research stage. Now that she was supposed to actually make sense of it all and turn it into something halfway presentable, it was like her brain had stalled entirely.

No, she told herself. She wouldn’t be beaten. She clicked open a new Word document and started to type.

To Do For Thesis:

Get translations for Kildonian Chessmen texts

Interview locals about legends

Find, research, and visit rumoured Chessmen resting places

Research divide in Kildonian population (Vitalities?)

She paused, then added in:

Find out what was in the garden on the night of the storm.

A knock at the bedroom door startled her. Soba’s ears pricked up as Isla dragged herself back to reality. What was the time? She glanced at the clock. Nearly midday. Almost three hours had gone by no quicker than a blink as she clicked through research articles and flicked through books.

Scrambling to her feet, she answered the door to Nana Morag’s lined face. She was smiling, in a sort of mischievous way, one side of the mouth curved more upwards than the other.

“Heard you had a little powercut last night,” she said, conspiringly.

“Yeah,” Isla rubbed the back of her neck. “I think it must have skipped the rest of the house though. Or… or maybe it was just my imagination.”

“You think so?”

“I mean, it could have been,” Isla said, half-wondering why she was trying to rationalise it. “I was pretty tired. My mind could have been playing tricks on me.”

“Hm,” Nana Morag didn’t sound convinced. She glanced back down the hallway, before taking a step closer. “Isla, have you heard of Basinish Island?” When Isla shook her head, Nana Morag’s whole face illuminated. “Basinish Island is a small, abandoned island off the coast of Port Glen. About three or four miles…. that direction,” she pointed over Isla’s shoulder, past the window and towards the tracing-paper grey sky. “Legend has it that you can walk there and back from Port Glen on days when the tide goes out. Of course, no-one ever tries. It’s very dangerous.”

“Okay,” Isla said, wondering exactly what Nana Morag was getting at. “What does this have to do with—”

“There’s rumours that Voltean – the Electric Vitality – lives out that way. Of course, it’s never been proven,” she said, in an off-hand way like she was telling Isla the brands of cereal in the cupboards. “But I thought you might like to read about them in this.”

Nana Morag pressed a thick hardback book into Isla’s hands.

“This is an old text,” Nana Morag continued. “There are some newer edits now, but I think you still might find it relevant. Especially for your research. It’s translated, so it might read a little funny. But there should be plenty there to keep you occupied.”

Isla looked through the book in awe. Pages of intricate illustrations and small, looped writing teased her from within. She could barely get her words out to thank Nana Morag. Soba purred and chirruped from the bed in appreciation.

“Nana Morag, thank you so much. I’ll take really good care of it. I promise.”

“Not to worry, Isla. You seem to have your head screwed on tight. If there’s anything in there you need some help with decoding, you let me know and I’ll try and help.”

“That would be wonderful. I was actually wondering if I could ask another favour of you,” Isla said, feeling opportunity shoulder its way in. “I have some old translations about the Kildonian Chessmen and I need some help translating them. Could you help?”

“I can do one better,” Nana Morag said. “Come along to my class this afternoon. I teach the young ones how to read and write the old language. I find there’s so much more meaning in having done the work myself. Don’t you agree?”

The expectation trickled down Isla’s back like a sliver of ice. Would she have the time to learn for something like that? Surely it would only take a couple of hours, tops, for someone to translate the documents rather than possible weeks to learn even the basics of an entire ancient language? It didn’t seem like a good trade off. But Nana Morag had already been so kind to her. And there was no telling how she’d react if she refused. Maybe if she showed willing now, Nana Morag would be more flexible later.

Isla clutched the book to her chest. “When does it start?”

“I’ll be leaving now,” Nana Morag said, her eyes gleaming.

“Alright,” Isla nodded. “I’m with you.”

Nana Morag lead Isla towards a small community centre, off a narrow lane from the high street. The whole area was residential, cluttered with redbrick terraces and full of people going around their daily business even with the biting wind and the overhanging threat of rain. Nana Morag was stopped nearly a dozen times by passers-by, each one making the same guarded enquiries about Isla, wondering who she “belonged to”. Isla couldn’t tell if they were pleased or not when Nana Morag explained they were family.

The classroom was perfect for children, bright, colourful, and visually appealing, but its cheery theme did little to soften the sharp edges of anxiety in Isla’s stomach. It spiked even more when she sat down, on a too-small chair that creaked every time she even considered moving.

Nana Morag didn’t call attention to Isla when the children came in for her class, which she was eternally grateful for. Along with the rest of the children, she was given an easy-reader book in Old Kildonian, a language heavy with vowels and punctuated with strange looping symbols. There was also a sheet of paper, typed in large print, with what looked like an alphabet and a few short words paired with an English equivalent. Isla stared at them until her eyes went blurry. She couldn’t even figure out how to make her mouth contort itself to make those noises. But that wasn’t the worst of it.

The words were simple. Too simple. Words for “Mum”, “Dad”, “good”, “nice”, “friend”, and other twee phrases ran through her head. Not even a full sentence. Not even “Mum is nice”, “my friend is good”, just words, scattered over the page as if they were plucked from the ether. How would this help her? How could she translate complicated archaic documents with these basics?

The class hadn’t even started yet. Nana Morag was still talking to a parent while the children shouted and ran around the tables, obviously too overstimulated even before the lesson began. And Isla was spiralling. She could feel it percolating within her. As her breath raced out, she tried to clear her head.

This wouldn’t do. It couldn’t. Even if she attended one of these classes every day for a month, she’d be nowhere near ready to decode the Chessmen documents herself. She didn’t have that time to waste. The exhibition in Hydrogate opened in three weeks and she still had most of the region to see. Places to go. People to interview. Legends to find. She just couldn’t do it.

A blip pinged her phone, making her jump. While Nana Morag’s back was turned, still in conversation, Isla slid it out of her pocket and looked at it under the table.

Isla,

The Anthropology Department is concerned that you have not yet been in touch to update on your project. As such, we are writing to inform you that we have arranged a video conference with you at 1pm Johto Standard Time in two days’ time. Please follow the link below to attend your slot.

The department would like you to prepare a short presentation to highlight your progress as part of the video conference.

Please also remember you must submit proof of your passage to the Kildo region as evidence.

Regards,

Prof F. S. Gardener

Isla could only stare numbly at the email for the first few minutes. Slowly, heat crept into her face. Anger bubbled in the pit of her stomach. How dare they? How dare they talk to her like that? The condescending attitude dripped off the words like hot grease from a searing grill. They wanted a presentation? In two days? It couldn’t be done.

At least, not while she allowed her time to be wasted.

Nana Morag looked disappointed, but said she understood when Isla explained that something had come up that meant she had to leave early. It didn’t make her feel better.

Outside the community centre, she sat on the nearest bench and took large lungfuls of crisp, cool air until the anger and anxiety gurgling in her stomach finally ebbed away. She cast a guilty look back at the door. Hopefully Nana Morag would forgive her.

It would take nearly half an hour to walk back to the house. Plenty of time to think about what direction to take the presentation. Even as she thought about it, her mind unspooled ideas. She could look through the book Nana Morag gave her, cite the conversation they’d had about the Vitalities, maybe ask Rhona and the family for any other stories they had. She could do this. She could pull this together. She’d show that professor exactly what she was made of.

Just as she pushed herself to her feet, something thudded to the ground. Isla froze, her concentration shattered. Her hand sought the familiar Pokeball hanging at her waist and she rolled her fingertips across its keenly smoothed surface. Something crept into the corner of her peripheral vision. A dull, murky, red-brown shape, a rusted stain on the greenery encroaching the community centre. Her stomach tightened. Nausea crept up her throat and she had to fight a sudden, violent urge to vomit.

When the nausea passed, and the world faded back in, a noise trembled through the earth under her feet. A low rumbling whinny followed by the steady, echoing beat of hooves.

Isla called Soba out. It was an unwelcome return to reality. She was in a new region with strange new Pokemon and she hadn’t even taken five minutes to look at the kinds of creatures that lived in the area. If there was something there that could hurt her, then she was playing a dangerous game. Could she even defend herself?

She should ignore it, she reasoned. Ignore it and head back to the croft. Wild Pokemon attacks on humans weren’t common, especially in fairly urban areas, but something still spurred her into action. Sweat stood out on her brow as she circled the Community Centre, Soba in pursuit.

There was nothing there. No people. No Pokemon. The only thing that stood out was a patch of disturbed grass by the window that looked into Nana Morag’s classroom. A line of hoofprints sunk into the long, leafy fronds, each one fringed with thin purple liquid. .

Soba coughed and retched.

“Easy, girl,” Isla returned Soba to her Pokeball. The last thing she needed was for her only Pokemon to become unwell. That would just be the rotten cherry on the top of the already disgusting cake.

She took one last cautionary glance around the area. Leaves trembled in the trees. Cars sloped down the road. Children played in a park down the street, their voices carrying over a thin, brisk wind.

When she looked down at the prints again, the strange liquid was gone.

Back at home, Isla shut herself back in the tiny room, opened her laptop, and focused. Hours fell away. Daylight morphed into darkness. All Isla knew was the tapping of keys and the pages of books stiff with bookmarks and post-it notes.

She was turning over into a new chapter – The Shifting Traditions – when her stomach gurgled, lifting her out of her study induced stupor. What time was it? It had gotten dark without her even noticing. She groped for the desk light and clicked it on, the room touched by a jaundiced yellow light.

The clock flashed back; 18:47.

She didn’t want to seem presumptuous. Running a croft with only a few family members must have been tough. She could imagine it was the kind of work that never had a clear end goal, that there was always something that needed done. And she’d only been here a full day. She didn’t know their routines yet. Maybe they were a late dinner type of family. And she definitely didn’t want to pressure anyone. But it was very late now. She hadn’t eaten any lunch. And there hadn’t been any noises in the house for hours.

Downstairs, every room was draped in darkness. Isla felt around for the light switches, but the unfamiliar walls wouldn’t give up their secrets, and she clattering through the house like a particularly ungraceful Hippopotas. It confirmed one thing. There was nobody home.

Panic rose in her chest as she picked her way towards the windows, hoping that she could let some light in via the curtains. I

With a bang, the door opened, bounced off the wall, and light spilled into the room. Rhona stood in the hallway, shelling herself from a puffy jacket.

“Rhona?” Isla squeaked.

“Oh, gosh! Isla!” Rhona’s hand flew to her chest, her skin translucent. “Chick, why were you standing there in the dark?”

“I couldn’t find the light switch,” she said lamely. “I’d been upstairs, and I got a bit worried I hadn’t heard anything down here for a while.”

“Oh, God. You didn’t get the message?”

“What message?”

“Kenneth sent Drambark to the house with it,” Rhona said, hanging up her coat.

Isla wasn’t sure exactly what a Drambark was, but she didn’t think now was the right time to ask. “I didn’t get anything, sorry. What’s happened?”

“It’s Nana Morag, chick. She came over very ill just before she finished her class. She was taken to hospital.”

“Hospital?!” Isla gasped.

“Yes,” she said. “Oh, but she’s okay, she’s stable and responsive. They’re keeping her in overnight, but I think it’s just as a precaution.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“They don’t know yet. They were running tests when I left.”

“I’m sorry, I…” Isla stammered. “I should have stayed with her.”

The look in Rhona’s eyes became sharp and probing. “Yes, why did you leave? I thought you wanted to learn about the language.”

“I do, but…” Isla heaved a sigh. “I got an email from my course supervisor when I was in the class telling me I have to do a presentation for them. In two days. About the progress I’ve made in the project. And I haven’t… I haven’t had much progress yet because I’ve only just got here. So I panicked and came back here to start working on that immediately because… well, if I don’t jump through their hoops, they’ll pull approval on the project.”

Rhona nodded the whole time Isla spoke. “Och, chick, maybe it’s for the better that you didn’t stay.”

Isla frowned. “Why?”

“Because it wasn’t just Nana Morag who became ill. Everyone attending that class did.”

#checkmate #pokemon fan fic #fakemon #pokemon fanfic #pokemon fanfiction #my writing #long post

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hvneyxbea · 4 years

Photo

HONEY BEA ELLIOTT ( VIRGINIA GARDNER ) is a 17 year old JUNIOR student at Broadripple Academy. SHE is originally from MONTANA but moved to Broadripple THREE YEARS ago. SHE is FREE-SPIRITED and TRUSTWORTHY but can also be NAIVE and UNFORGIVING.

basics

name: honey bea elliott, also knows as honey or b.

age: 17 years old

grade: junior

house: keough

cabin room: junior cabin room #2

how long have they been at broadripple: she joined broadripple during her freshman year.

where are they from originally: honey is original from a farm in montana, where her parents still live.

extra curricular: Women of Broadripple

character aesthetic

wild flowers braided into golden hair, jewelry made from gemstones, bellbottoms, freckles across a nose, orange tinted glasses, crocheted crop tops, barefoot in summer, rolling down a grassy hill, tire swings, the smell of sea salt in the air, henna tattoos, rainbow’s embroidered on pant pockets, body chains, makeup-less face, green smoothies, bubble gum

traits

positive personality traits: free-spirited, trustworthy, good natured

neutral personality traits: relaxed, sporadic, humorous

negative personality traits: naive, unforgiving, opinionated

facts

honey is the youngest of six kids, and she is the youngest by 22 years. yes, they all have equally uncommon names you’d expect her hippie of a mother to pick. she is most definitely an uh oh baby. not meant to happen, but was conceived during a reunion between her parents.

her mom is the best woman she��s ever known. born in a small town in Tennessee, once she met honey’s father while at a music festival with her girlfriends, she moved across the country to be with him. but her father always had a tendency to indulge in vices, causing him to live the last thirty years in and out of prison.

so honey grew up on the farm with her mother and her paternal grandparents. they embraced her mother with open arms, aware of the trouble their son brought, along with their handful of grandchildren. while honey was born after many of her siblings moved out on their own, she was told by her grandfather that she suited the farm the most. the girl enjoyed waking up early to say hello to the animals as she fed them, it was the time she could decompress and be with her thoughts.

honey was homeschooled for most of her life. it was just easier. she wasn’t necessarily close to any public school so she was taught the basics by her Nana before enrolling in online homeschool programs when she entered third grade

broadripple wasn’t necessarily a place honey ever expected to end up. but when her father was released from prison and her mother took him back again, the blonde knew she waned to get away from the farm. she was informed of broadripple by her grandmother and applied for the scholarship program. when she was accepted it was a no brainer. she would much rather be in new england in some bougie school then living on the farm, forced to watch her father treat her mother like he always did. like she wasn’t the most incredibly women in the world.

headcanons

growing up surrounded by animals, it’s no surprise that honey sought out a career working with them. originally she thought the lines of a veterinarian, or a zoologist. but something about marine animals really intrigued her and since she was nine decided she was going to be a marine biologist.

honey isn’t an activist per se. she’s not going out and starting revolutions or leading marches, no. but she is very passionate about her beliefs and will attend a protest or a march if she’s in the area.

she cares very deeply about the earth and will have no problem going off on a tangent about how we need to care for it and stop killing it while drunk at a party.

vegan. not the kind that talks down to people who eat meat, but she just refuses. her decision to become a vegan began when she realized where all the animals she had become fond of on her farm were disappearing to, and after that she swore of any meat or animal products of any kind.

she has a pet cow named beatrice. her grandparents woke her up in the wee hours of the morning when she was ten to witness one of the cows give birth in the barn. and when the calf was born, they allowed her to name it. when her family told her it was time to sent beatrice to slaughter, honey slept in the barn to make sure no one touched her baby. honey won the argument and beatrice is the only cow on the farm that is going to die of natural causes.

honey can be awkward at times, but more often then not it’s just because she can’t read social cues. she is observant of the people around her, but since most of the people she was exposed to growing up was family, she has a hard time reading people and generally just takes what they say for face value.

is most definitely a little hippie child just like her mother and often spends summer break road tripping across the country from music festival to music festival.

there have been people in her past that think she’s an idiot, because she has a tendency to give off a very chill vibe by default and also homeschool, but honey is very smart. she applies herself and enjoys learning. it’s the homework she doesn’t enjoy.

can make the best peach lemonade. just try her. also learned some southern cookin from her mama and has been able to adapt most of what she’s learned to fit her diet.

she was gifted a small cow plushie from her mother before attending broadripple, to just be reminded of home. she doesn’t sleep with it, seriously she doesn't, she just feels bad if it ends up on the floor so it has to be tucked under her arm at night to make sure that doesn’t happen.

religion was never something pressed on honey growing up, her mother wanted her children to find their own way and belief system. so if honey had to pick a label she’d say she agnostic, but she definitely DOES NOT get behind the catholic church and all their problematic behavior so the religious aspect of broadripple is something she struggles with on the daily.

shockingly doesn't reek of weed even though she is most definitely an active stoner.

also girl loves a baseball hat. while she most always has her hair braided in some way shape or form, if she’s rocking a side braid she’s got a hat on that head of hers.

questions about the retreat

what do they think about the retreat?

honey is all aboard. she grew up on a farm for goodness sake, so the idea of being out in the woods in some cabins is like a dream come true. she’s not sure how long this will go on, so she’s not trying to get her hopes up, but the idea of spending the summer in the cabin’s is comforting to her.

do they have any previous experience with camping or other outdoors?

yes! honey has gone camping many a time growing up. whether that was just with her mother or with the rest of her siblings as a form of bonding, she has spent many nights under the stars. she also just goes to national parks in her free time to hike so ya know she’s a very outdoorsy person

what does their cabin bunk look like? how will they decorate their space?

honey wanted the bunk to look as cozy as possible. so she has some of her favorite potted plants around her, along with her record player and the small collection of records she can’t live without. there is a tapestry full of warm hues push pined to the ceiling and numerous pictures of her family taped to the wall. there is a rolled up yoga mat against the bunk and she also brought the handmade quilt she nana gave her when she was little and she often snuggles with it.

do they believe in the supernatural? to what degree?

definitely. she lives out in the middle of nowhere and has heard many a strange noise in the middle of the night. she’s pretty positive things like vampires and werewolves don’t exist, potentially could be swayed to acknowledge wendigos, but it’s really ghost, ghouls and spirits that she fully believes in. also she finds the whole big foot/sasquatch thing super interesting and has watched like every show about it

are they easily spooked?

not really. honey is pretty chill and also is usually some level of stoned so if something spooky happens, she’ll probably just smile and chuckle. unless she got some bad strain and is paranoid because then she’ll be on edge and much more likely to be spooked.

and finally,

you will sacrifice yourself for someone else your one of the purer hearts of broadripple, you may not even know the person you sacrifice yourself for that well but you think its the right thing to do. and maybe it is. but would they do the same thing for you?

#{and I know that you're scared because hearts get broken || honey bea elliott}#retreat:task1 #retreat:intro

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