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aidaronan · 2 years

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The years go by. The retail jobs that Steve thinks are temporary keep piling up, but he has no idea what else to do with his life so he just keeps on keeping on.

Until a large tree falls on the lawn of the little house he managed to buy and he gets the quote on removal and the number literally hurts his soul.

He buys a small chainsaw instead. Over the course of a few weeks, he gets most of the branches cut up. He collects some large rocks from down by the quarry and digs out a fire pit in his backyard. On his days off, his friends come over and they sit out back and have a few beers. The pile of wood dwindles. The giant trunk is another story though. His chainsaw isn't big enough for it. Burning it would take forever, and Steve's terrified he'd disappoint Smoky the Bear. He's at a loss.

Until he sees another giant trunk in someone's yard carved into a bear.

He knows what to do then. Not a bear, but something else. Through trial and error, the trunk becomes the rough shape of a woman, the remnants of the branches like a crown on her head. It's not as amazing as the bear he saw, but it's his. He finds he loves the smell of sawdust and the feeling of creating something.

Just like that, Steve realizes what he wants to do. It takes several months and a lot of yard sales, but he scrounges up the tools he needs to start woodworking. He learns to measure twice and cut once. He makes tables and chairs and carves them with art and designs that get better and better the more he learns. Shockingly, people actually buy his pieces.

Even more shocking comes the realization that he's making enough money to do it full time. He puts in his two weeks notice at Melvald's and hands in his assistant manager badge.

He's not sure he's happy, but he is content. It feels good to work hard and actually have things to show for it. It also feels good to work muscles he hasn't used since high school. He carries on for a few years like that, creating and learning and creating some more. Then Eddie Munson blows back into town. Invited back so Hawkins can have their most famous alumnus sing the national anthem at homecoming. Steve's honestly surprised he shows at all. "Can't believe you didn't tell them kiss your hairy ass," Steve says. Because of course Eddie ends up around his fire pit, sipping on Steve's cheap beer like he doesn't have three Grammy awards on his mantel. The years fall away with each drink, reminding Steve of just how much it had hurt when Eddie left. He'd wanted Eddie so bad back then, more than he'd ever wanted anyone. He can feel the echoes of that deep ache across time.

"Pfft. Don't you know all famous people wax our asses now? All the rage in LA." Eddie cuts a look at him and smirks when Steve rolls his eyes, grateful for the lighthearted moment to snap him out of his maudlin nostalgia. "Really though I thought about it, but then I thought it would be way funnier to donate a metric fuckton of money to Hawkins High with the stipulation that it go to the theater and band programs. Kind of bummed they couldn't honor my other request though."

"Which was?"

"My old Hellfire throne. I miss her, but apparently she's not around anymore. Something about water damage."

"Oh yeah. Water main busted a few years back and flooded the theater. I remember that." "Yeah. Had to settle for the promise they'd make a game lounge and stock it with all the supplies a budding young nerd needs."

"That's really nice, Eds."

Eddie shrugs. "I've been known to be nice on occasion. You'll come to homecoming, right? Moral support?"

Steve hasn't been to homecoming in years because he sees the other people who stayed in town all the time, and he has no interest in seeing the people who didn't. He can only answer the same questions so many times. Oh, I'm doing woodwork now. Yep, I still live right here. Nope, still not married, no kids.

He goes though, and he answers the uncomfortable questions. Because Eddie asked him to. Because no matter how long it's been, Steve can't deny that some part of him still...

He says goodbye after, and Eddie leaves again, and Steve tries not to think about that too much in the following days.

He's halfway into the project before he realizes what he's building. He'd seen Eddie's throne quite a few times back when. What he doesn't have memories of, he makes up. He adds his own touches too, making it a throne fit for a rock star, a nerd, a friend.

He carves ornate patterns, he creates scenes of dragons being beaten back by a man with a guitar, crowds of people that could be knights or concertgoers.

It's his favorite piece he's ever done, and his hands are shaking when he dials Eddie's number. He gets an answering machine and stumbles through a message.

"I made you something. I guess it's kind of silly, but it's here in Hawkins if you want it. Or I'm sure you can afford the shipping if you don't want to come. Just, I made you a chair. It's more of a... Well, you'll see. Unless you don't want to... It's Steve by the way." He hangs up before he can embarrass himself even more.

Eddie doesn't call him back. One day passes and then another. Steve tries not to let it get to him. He works on orders and new projects. He enjoys his little backyard oasis. He rents a few movies and thinks they're okay.

He's debarking some wood in his driveway when the rental car pulls up, Eddie stepping out in ripped jeans and an old Metallica tee. "Hi again, Stevie."

"Oh." Steve clears his throat. "The thing's in the garage. I'll..."

Eddie doesn't say anything for a long time, circling the throne, running his tattooed fingers over each little detail.

"You made this whole thing?"

"I did."

"For me?" Eddie looks at him then, one hand still touching the wood like he doesn't want to let go. Even under the harsh lights of the garage, his eyes are such a warm shade of brown that Steve forgets to breathe.

He nods. "For you."

"Why?"

There are a hundred answers Steve could give, but he spent so long not knowing who he was or who he wanted to be. Too long. "Because you'll always be the one that got away. Because some part of me will always want to make you smile no matter how long it's been."

Eddie falls into the throne like he just got the wind knocked out of him.

"You don't have to respond to that," Steve says. "You can just say thank you and take the chair."

"I can." Eddie blows out a breath. "But that would be incredibly stupid considering half my early ballads are about you."

"What?" Unfair. Steve doesn't have a chair to fall into.

"Oh sure, I changed the hes to shes for a while there because..." Eddie waves his hand. "But they're about you, Steve. God, I should've asked you out. I just thought..."

Hearing those words is a lot like seeing that carved bear all over again, something clicking into place that wasn't quite right before.

"Go out with me now then," Steve says. "Or stay in. I've got a frozen lasagna and I rented Contact."

"Steve Harrington? Asking Eddie 'the Freak' Munson on a date? Did hell freeze over?"

"Pfft." Steve takes a step closer toward what he wants most. "Hell froze over in 1986, Eddie. You were there."

Five months and a lot of long distance phone bills later, Steve opens Harrington Woodworking in Los Angeles. That same day, Eddie takes photos for Rolling Stone posing in an ornate throne in his living room. He tells the reporter exactly who made it and what he means. At concerts, he starts singing those ballads the way he always wanted to. More often than not, Steve stands in the wings singing along.

#steddie #fanfic #mine #woodworker steve #rock star eddie #i meant for this to be a drabble but 😂

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scotianostra · 8 months

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IT'S A PURE DEAD GIVE-AWAY THAT YOU'RE SCOTTISH IF :-

1. You consider scattered showers with outbreaks of sunshine 🌞 as good weather.

2. The only sausage you like is square.

3. You were forced to do Scottish country dancing 🕺🏻

every year at secondary school.

4. You have a wide vocabulary of Scottish words such as numpty, aye, aye right, auldyin, baltic...

5. You destroyed your teeth when you were young using Buchanan's toffee, Wham bars, Penny Dainties, MB Bars, Cola Cubes etc

6. You have an enormous feeling of dread whenever Scotland play a 'numpty' team like the Faroe Islands.

7. You happily engage in a conversation about the weather with someone you've never met before.

8. Even if you normally hate the Proclaimers, Runrig, Caledonia , Deacon Blue and Big Country, you still love it when you're in a club abroad and they play something Scottish.

9. You used to watch Glen Michael's Cavalcade on a Sunday afternoon with his side kick Lamp Paladin.

10. You got Oor Wullie and The Broons annuals at Xmas.

11. You can tell where another Scot is from by their accent - "Awright, pal, gonnae gies a wee swatch oa yur Sun ? Cheers, magic pal." Or "Fit ya bin up tae ? Fair few quines in the nicht, eh ?", etc

12. You see cops and hear someone shout 'Errapolis'.

13. You have participated in or watched people having a 'square go'.

14. You know that when someone asks you what school you went to they only want to know if you are catholic or protestant.

15. You have eaten lots and lots of random Scottish food like mince 'n tatties, Tunnock's Caramel Logs, oat cakes, haggis, Cullen skink, Lees Macaroon Bars, etc.

16. A jakey has asked you for money.

17. You think nothing of waiting expectantly for your 1p change from a shop keeper.

18. You know the right response to 'Ye dancing ?' is 'Y'askin?' followed by 'Ahm askin' and finally 'Then ahm dancin'. 💃

19. Whenever you see sawdust it reminds you of pools of vomit as that's what the jannies used to chuck on it at school.

20. You lose all respect for a groom 🤵 who doesn't wear a kilt.

21. You don't do 🛒 shopping ... you 'go the messages'.

22. You're sitting on the train 🚂 or bus and a 😵 drunk man sits next to you telling you a joke - and asking 'Ahm no annoying ye ahm a?' and you respond 'Naw, not at a', yer fine. This is ma stoap, but'. 🛑

23. You can have an entire phone 📞 conversation using only the words 'awright', 'aye' and 'naw'.

24. You have experienced peer pressure to have an alcoholic drink 🍷 when out - regardless of the circumstances.

25. You know that ye cannae fling yer pieces 🍞 oot a 20 storey flat, and that seven hundred hungry weans'll testify tae that. Furthermore you're sure that if it's butter, 🧀 cheese or jeely, or if the breid is plain or pan, the odds against it reaching earth are 99 tae wan.

26. You know that going to a party 🥳 at a friend's house involves bringing your own drink.

27. Your holiday abroad is ruined if you hear there is a heatwave in Scotland 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 while you're away.

28. Your national team goes 2-0 up again the Czechs in a qualifier in Prague and your mate says we'll end up losing 3-2 here and you think "Probably". ⚽️

29. You can properly pronounce McConnochie, Ecclefechan, Milngavie, and Auchtermuchty.

30. Your favourite pizza is deep fried and battered from the chippy.

31. You're used to 4 💨 ☔️ ☀️ ❄️ seasons in one day.

32. You can't pass a chip shop or kebab shop, without drooling, when your 🥴 drunk.

33. You can fall about 😵 drunk without spilling your drink.

34. You measure distance in minutes.

35. You can understand Rab C Nesbitt and know characters just like them in your own family.

36. You go to Saltcoats because you think it's like being at the ocean.

🌊

37. You can make a whole sentence out of just swear words.

38. You know what haggis is made with and still eat it.

39. Somebody you know used a football 🥅 schedule to plan their 💒 day date.

40. You've been at a 👰 🎩 wedding where the footie results were read out.

41. You aren't surprised to find curries, pizzas 🍕 kebabs, Irn Bru, nappies and fags all for sale in one shop.

42. Your seaside holiday home has Calor ⛽️ gas under it.

43. You know that Irn Bru is an infallible hangover 😵 cure.

44. You understand all the above and are going to send it to your pals.

45. and, finally, you are 100 per cent Scottish if you have ever used these terms - "How's it hingin'?", "clatty", "boggin", "cludgie", "dreich", "bampot", and "dubble nugget"..

😂🕺🏻🥳

#scotland #scottish #history #funny but true

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blurredcolour · 8 months

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I Wish You Love | Part Three

I Wish You Love Masterlist

Lewis Nixon x Housemaid!Female Reader

The letter you never intended to post has a slew of consequences and life will never be the same for anyone – you and Captain Nixon most of all.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, Angst, Class Divide, Infidelity, Dishonesty, Minor Reader Injury, Blood, Language, Smoking, Alcohol Consumption, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes - 18+ ONLY.

Author's Note: Reader's nationality is British and liberties have been taken in describing her background and family life for the sake of plot. No physical descriptions or y/n used. A good portion of this fic will be letter-based. This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the HBO series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Word Count: 5211

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Lieutenant Nixon’s reply arrived in early October. The weeks since the family’s return to Lydiard had been bleak. The change from summer to autumn typically brought with it a renewed sense of energy, vigor, and anticipation for the festivities to come at the end of the year. All you seemed to feel was the life draining out of the world around you, underwritten by a growing sense of dread that culminated in the arrival of the morning post that day.

You lost your breakfast in the bathroom, hands shaking as they wiped your mouth clean, unable to face the contents of the envelope. Miss Isobel, for her part, was basking in her re-insertion into her social circle around Lydiard – gentlemen callers, vapid daughters of landed gentry. She barely noticed how unwell or vacant you looked, though catching your own reflection in her mirror as you fixed her hair reminded you to get a grip until you could take Dash for his walk.

Even once you’d reached the lake shore, the dog settling into a more relaxed pace after his initial excitement at the outset, you remained reluctant to open it. It felt as though there were a ticking time bomb lurking in your dress, awaiting one wrong move. The only problem was, you’d already made that wrong move.

“No going back now.” You muttered grimly and gingerly slid the letter from its envelope.

The pages crinkled in your hand as your gripped them fiercely, trying with all your might to swallow past the lump in your throat. You weren’t entirely sure which part was worse, reading him pledge his undying devotion to another woman or the fact that he would not give up on her unless she were to outright refuse him. Because despite the utter mess you had made of it, there was no possible way you could ever find it in yourself to do that.

And so, like the complete coward you had become, you took a page from Miss Isobel’s book and simply did not reply. As you should have done all those months ago in May. It was her intention to leave his correspondence unanswered, you were just, finally – after a long and twisted path – honouring her wishes. Never mind that it turned all food to sawdust in your mouth and robbed you of sleep, changing you into some sleep-walking wraith.

Letters continued to arrive from him, every three weeks or so, and were promptly stored away in the bottom of your suitcase with the rest. Sweet Izzy was as good as dead. There was only the real article left and she was just as much a handful as she’d ever been, carrying-on with some doctor at the prison camp now. The air turned cold, sparkling frost replaced the morning dew on the lawn. You barely noticed it as you allowed Dash to drag you along behind him on his daily sojourns.

Your father was begging you to come home on your day off before Christmas, maybe it would do you good to get out of Lydiard for a while – out of your grief-stricken stupor and back into the land of the living. Returning Dash to his favourite cushion in the sitting room one morning, you quickly grabbed a tray to collect one of the cut crystal glasses that had surely been left in there by a house guest the night before. You were crossing through the front hall towards the back stairs when you heard Mr. Atkinson open the front door.

“Good day, Captain Nixon.” His tone was as professional as ever, but you still managed to note the hint of surprise as you whirled around to see the very man whose letters you had been avoiding standing there in his dress uniform.

Two gold bars now adorned his garrison cap. So that was why Mr. Atkinson had called him Captain. Struggling to inhale a full breath, you realized much too late that you had lost sensation in your fingertips, the sound of the tray and its fragile cargo impacting the ground overtaking whatever Captain Nixon had said in reply to Mr. Atkinson’s greeting.

Cursing under your breath, you crouched quickly to snatch up the tray, frantically trying to pluck the shards of broken crystal from the floor with your bare fingers as your heart slammed against your rib cage like a bird trying to escape its confines. A particularly large, jagged edge caught the flesh of your palm, making you hiss as blood welled scarlet against your skin.

“Whoa, easy there.” Captain Nixon’s voice was a lot closer than you expected, making you jolt back, startled. “Let me see that.” He coaxed gently as he grasped your wrist in one hand, producing a monogrammed handkerchief from his pocket with the other. “You really shouldn’t be picking up broken glass with your bare hands, you know.” He chided with a soft grin, expertly wrapping your hand with the soft, expensive cotton.

You watched silently, wondering how many times he’d performed similar acts on his fellow soldiers in the heat of battle. You’d never realized quite how good his aftershave smelled, how the hints of vanilla and allspice wrapped around you before.

“There, all better.” His voice shattered through your retreat inward, and you looked to him quickly, barely meeting his warm eyes, the same shade as his favourite whiskey, before you had to look away lest your expression betray your inner turmoil.

“Thank you, Captain.” You murmured softly and shuffled backward again before pushing to your feet.

“Almost makes me sorry I got promoted.” He smirked and your brow wrinkled in bewilderment as he rose to his feet. “Miss being called ‘leftenant.’” He shrugged and you gulped as tears stung your eyes with a sudden viciousness.

“If you’ll follow me to the sitting room, we’ll find Miss Isobel, sir.” Mr. Atkinson stepped forward, shooting you a reproachful look.

You tensed rigidly with a quick nod. One of the footmen had arrived with a broom and dustpan to continue cleaning up your mess and you surrendered your tray filled with broken parts, wondering if they could all see the shattered pieces of your heart laying there upon it too. Dashing up the stairs towards Miss Isobel’s room, you endeavoured to regulate your breathing, not needing to dissolve into hysterics now. There was no escape. Your Waterloo had come, it seemed, and you may as well face up to the mess you created with your own two hands and a pen.

Knocking on the door, you entered only once Miss Isobel’s voice called out to you, finding her lounging on her bed with the newest edition of her favourite magazine.

“Miss Isobel, I wonder if I might have a moment of your time.” You clenched your fists at your sides, digging your nails into the heels of your palms, the ersatz bandage on your right hand driving home the purpose and necessity of what was about to be the most awkward conversation of your entire life.

She let the magazine drop to the duvet dramatically with an annoyed, expectant look upon her face as you clicked the door shut behind you.

“Captain Lewis Nixon is downstairs, Miss–”

“What?” She interrupted sharply and you took a shaky breath, seizing the last threads of your composure in a death grip.

“He’s come because…well I’m afraid he believes…” You struggled to sum up the litany of your offences tidily.

“Oh, do get on with it.” She huffed, tossing the periodical aside and sitting up, patting at her hair vainly to check the style was still in place.

“Captain Nixon is under the impression that you have been writing to him since May, Miss.” You forced the words out in a rush, sinking your teeth into your lower lip as she stood slowly.

“Whyever would he think that? He been drinking too much again?” She laughed snidely, smoothing her skirt.

Clenching your jaw, you shook your head firmly. “No. Because I’ve been writing to him in your name.” Your voice trembled but you managed to keep it at an audible volume, standing completely still as she stalked over to you with a cold rage in her eyes.

“Why you sneaky little bitch.” She sneered before her palm lashed out to smack across your left cheek with a harsh ‘crack.’

Blinking rapidly as your eyes immediately began to water, in retrospect you wished you had given her a piece of your mind, but in reality, all that tumbled out of your mouth was a series of apologies. “I am so very sorry, Miss, I just wanted him to feel supported while he fought overseas. I know it wasn’t my place and I swear I meant nothing by it I–”

“You are dismissed.” She cut you off with words you dreaded and yet expected all at once. “You filthy fortune hunter. Did you really think he’d fall for such stupid tricks?! What a foolish girl you were all along, just like I told Papa. He’s married you know?” The cruel glee that lit up her eyes before she began to laugh like a jackal made your blood curdle, the word ricocheting through your brain.

…married….Married…MARRIED…

“Now remove yourself from this house at once, I never want to see your face again. I will be sure to inform Atkinson and Papa just what you’ve done, you horrid girl.” She reached behind you to wrench to door open and pointed, sending you fleeing from the room towards the back stairs with that singular, devastating word still echoing in your mind as your vision began to blur.

Bursting into your room, your former room, you collected your limited number of possessions and roughly shoved them into your suitcase and duffel bag. Stripping out of your serving dress for most likely the last time you would ever wear such a garment, for you were surely leaving without a reference, you pulled on a wool dress and coat before taking your things down the servants’ stairs to the kitchen. Ignoring Mrs. Brigham’s call from the kitchen you dashed out to the garage to fetch your bicycle, strapping your luggage to the back fender and taking off down the side drive as fast as your legs could peddle.

Eventually you had to slow down, legs aching, lungs burning, allowing yourself to glide along the asphalt of the road into Swindon as you finally permitted the tears that had been brimming at your waterline to slide down your cheeks. In truth you should be more upset about the loss of your job, especially as the main breadwinner in your family, but it would be easy enough to get a job at the Railway Works. It most likely would pay better and have shorter hours too – your father had just never approved of you becoming a ‘canary girl’ with skin and hair tinged yellow from hours of pouring TNT into shells for use by the military. Well, he’d have to get over that now, if he wanted to keep the flat and have food in his belly.

No, the far more distressing thing in all this was the fact that you’d allowed yourself to develop such deep-seated feelings for a married man. It was honestly no surprise that Miss…just Isobel now…had carried on with him despite that knowledge, but that was a line you would have never allowed yourself to cross knowingly. You let out a wry, watery laugh. What a pathetic line to draw amidst lying, impersonation, and god knows what other sins you had surely committed. Your bicycle wobbled to a stop as it ran out of momentum, and you slowly began to pedal once more to keep progressing towards town. The heavy load would certainly double the usual time it took to get there.

The sound of vehicle approaching from behind had you carefully steering toward the shoulder, giving them as much room to pass as possible. As the American military jeep drove slowly past, you held your breath, heart plummeting to your stomach as it too pulled off onto the shoulder, stopping a few feet in front of you. Captain Nixon jumped from the left side and began striding back towards you with a very determined look upon his face. Of course, Isobel had told him everything, she had made it clear she would, you had been naïve to hope to avoid this moment. Dismounting carefully, you turned your head to quickly wipe at your face, wincing at the tenderness in your cheek born of Isobel’s palm, before turning back to find him standing directly in front of you.

“So, it was you.” His voice was quiet, quieter than you’d ever heard him speak, lacking his usual playfulness.

“Yes.” Your voice refused to come out in anything above a whisper, so you nodded to be sure he understood your answer, gripping the handlebars so tightly the cut on your palm ached in protest.

“Was it some kind of joke, then?” He scoffed, crossing his arms defensively and your eyes widened in horror at the idea of doing something so cruel.

Captain Nixon’s eyes flicked your throbbing cheek, and you wondered if it had started to swell. “No.” You replied with a firm shake of the head.

“Did…did you mean a word of it?” His voice was laced with a dangerously tempting hint of tenderness and you felt your lower lip tremble precariously.

Of course you had, every word of it in fact, but there was no way you could admit to such things now that you knew the full truth. Clearing your throat painfully you took a deep breath to steel your nerves.

“I see you’re not wearing your wedding ring, Captain. Were you afraid you’d lose it?” You replied to his question with one of your own, feeling every bit of pain that unfurled across his impeccable features as though it were your own.

Gritting your teeth against it, lest you give in to your weaker impulses, you steered your bicycle around him and continued on your way to town. Captain Nixon did not stop you. Did not say a word.

Regret would stalk you for weeks, your harsh, high-handed words replaying cruelly in your mind any time you read or heard about the surprise German offensive through the Ardennes.

Your hasty packing job had inevitably resulted in failure and Helen kindly took it upon herself to deliver the last few items you had missed on her day off. Word of your transgression had spread like wildfire through Lydiard House, and while she did not seem to approve of what you had done, she did have sympathy for Captain Nixon who had apparently ‘departed immediately for France’ after leaving that morning. It could not have been a full week before the Germans pushed through into Belgium and his Regiment was deployed in desperate defence.

The Battle of the Bulge was discussed endlessly at your easily acquired job at the Swindon Railway Works factory where you were immediately put on the assembly line filling shells with TNT and gingerly tapping detonators into their caps. Tap too hard and a girl could lose her limbs – it was something everyone on the floor had witnessed at least once, you were told. The exacting work was fairly sufficient to keep your mind off the fact that you had sent a man to his possible death with nothing but harsh admonishment.

If he had found you not fifteen minutes later, you may have been able to bite your tongue, to answer him truthfully. Surely, he had deserved it after the dishonesty you had perpetuated, but your pride and cheek were smarting awfully from your ill treatment at Isobel’s hand, and you had taken it out on him. For all your judgment of her as a twenty-five-year-old spoiled child, you had behaved no better when it truly mattered. You had not been very forthcoming with the details upon arriving home to your father, freshly unemployed, but he had tolerated your silence and poorly hidden tears as you made up your old twin bed in the corner of the sitting room.

You were also able to save a little money, no longer needing the neighbourhood girl to come by the flat to clean once a week as you were able to manage that outside your hours at the factory. In fact, you found yourself with too much free time, and a dramatic increase in wages, deciding to visit a used bookshop to pick up a novel to read just after New Year’s. The display in the shop window with a relatively new World Atlas caught your attention and you found yourself leaving with it as well as a well-worn copy of War and Peace so that you might finally finish it.

As your father turned on the BBC news broadcast on the wireless that evening, the pair of you sitting side-by-side on the worn sofa, you cracked open your Atlas to follow along with the locations named on the pages within. The mention of the 101st Airborne or the ‘Battered Bastards of Bastogne’ as they were now affectionately known, made you inhale sharply. You squinted at the small village on the page, a spider’s web of roads all converging on that singular dot, truly illustrating its strategic importance.

“I really don’t understand what happened up at the House, sweet pea, and you never have to tell me. But whoever that American Lieutenant is, you really ought to let him know how much you care for him.”

You looked to your father slowly, pressing your lips together before exhaling through your nose “He’s a Captain now.” You murmured softly.

“Whatever his rank, my girl, whatever transpired, tell him.” He eyed you firmly.

“But–”

He held up his hand, silencing you. “I won’t terrify you with the things I’ve seen or endured. But I swear to you there is nothing more important when the world is so intent on tearing itself apart.”

“Oh Daddy…” You sighed tearfully and he pulled you into his shoulder as you wiped at your eyes quickly. “…what if it’s too late?”

“Oh, sweet pea.” He squeezed you tightly into his side. “It might be, but at least you’ll have tried and that’s all any of us can really do.”

You nodded weepily, quieting down as Churchill came on to give an inspiring address before you stood to clean up for the night, seeing your father to bed before turning in yourself. As you lay in your bed in the corner of the room, staring at the water-stained ceiling, you turned your father’s words over and over in your mind, not getting a whole lot of rest. On your way home from work the next day, you stopped by the local store to pick up some nice paper and a new pen. With all the writing you had undertaken last year to both Captain Nixon and your brother, your stores were running low, and a fresh start felt appropriate for the task you were about to attempt.

As you father settled in to listen to the news that night, you took a seat at the small table in the kitchen, staring at the crisp, white sheets, gnawing on your lip thoughtfully.

You signed your name before tapping your pen against the tabletop thoughtfully and quickly added a postscript before you could convince yourself not to do it.

Folding it up carefully you looked up startled to see your father leaning in the doorway with a fond smile on his face. “Well done, sweet pea.”

“Thanks, Daddy.” You sighed softly, sealing the letter into the envelope before seeing him to bed.

Posting it on your way to work the next day, you tried to put it out of your mind. You had done your best, just as your father had encouraged, and now it was in the hands of the Royal Mail. As the weeks ticked by, you undeniably deflated a little more each time you checked the mail and found no response. Your resources to check on his welfare were limited, but according to what you had access to, Captain Nixon’s name was not on any of the grim lists of wounded, dead, or missing. Which most likely meant he was not replying to you by choice. It was no less than you deserved.

It was not until the beginning of March, the soft caress of spring chasing away winter’s chill, when you came home to find an odd grin on your father’s face. He could hardly sit still in his favourite chair, watching you intently as you reached for the pile of post on the end table. You eyed him a moment until he glanced at the letters in your hand, and you looked down to the immediately recognizable cursive, heart skittering and skipping a few beats as you traced the letters of your name written in Captain Lewis’s hand for the first time. Definitely alive.

“Think I’ll go down to the pub tonight.” Your father was halfway out the door before you looked up and you sighed deeply in response.

“Thank you, Daddy. Be home for dinner in an hour, alright?”

“An hour and a half.” He winked before making his way out.

Shucking off your jacket, you hung it on its peg near the door before sinking onto the worn sofa and used a butter knife to carefully open the envelope.

Laying the pages down onto the worn tabletop you cupped your cheeks, aching from the broad grin that had taken up residence there as you read Captain Nixon’s letter. It was quite honestly more than you could have hoped for in a reply. More than you felt you were worthy of. Like a reward for bad behaviour, but one that you had spent the past month and a half trying to deny you craved to the very marrow of your bones.

It took a lot of restraint not to pull out a sheet of paper and begin a reply immediately, but the insistent growl of your stomach reminded you that neither you nor your father had eaten dinner yet. But after. After you were both fed, you were most certainly going to stay up far too late answering his question.

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

Read Part Four

I Wish You Love Masterlist

Tag list: @ronsparky, @fuckoffthanos, @bcon24, @gretagerwigsmuse

#lewis nixon x reader #lewis nixon imagine #lewis nixon imagines #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers

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jgthirlwell · 7 months

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02.26.24 Susie Ibarra, Jeffrey Zeigler and Graham Reynolds presented Insectum at National Sawdust.

#Insectum #Susie Ibarra #Jeffrey Zeigler #Graham Reynolds #National Sawdust

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hp-soulmates · 11 months

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💞 HP Soulmates: Fated 2 Be - Masterlist 💞

We had 47 amazing works created for the fest!!! Thanks everyone for your participation and support!

These are organized by main relationship type: F/F, M/F, and M/M and within those alphabetically by pairing.

F/F

Bellatrix/Mystery Female Character

💞 [FIC] Rubies Red by Constella1103 | @solis-angelus 💞 (M, Bellatrix/Mystery Character, 3.2k)

Bellatrix Lestrange’s life impacted by two people, through her eyes. Or ~Bellatrix Black, aged eleven and the heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, disgraces her family when a ruby red shield appears on her shoulder.~

Fleur/Hermione

💞 [ART] We are who we are by digthewriter | @digthewriter💞 (G, Fleur/Hermione, Digital Art)

Fleur and Hermione try to resist the pull they have toward each other.

💞 [FIC] The Choice by otterlyblued | @otterlyblued 💞 (T, Fleur/Hermione, 2.7k)

When one soulmate dies, the other begins to see them in dreams. Except it’s not just a dream, is it?

Ginny/Narcissa

💞 [FIC] Golden Script by Herochick007 | @herochicklyrrie007 💞 (T, Ginny/Narcissa, 3k)

Narcissa hates the name on her wrist, Ginny Weasley. Ginny is nowhere to be found, so she lives her life without her, but then, Ginny finally appears.

Hermione/Pansy

💞 [FIC] Only In Dreams Do I Wake by lumosatnight | @lumosatnight💞 (T, Pansy/Hermione, 1.5k)

Pansy dreams in flowers. She wakes to the feeling of leaves in her hair and twigs between her toes. It never lingers.

Lily/Narcissa

💞 [FIC] i will love you even if the oceans turn to sawdust and the trees fall in the forest without anyone around to hear them by chipsnkayso💞 (E, Narcissa/Lily, 60k)

Anything your soulmate draws on their skin appears on your skin. And the universe has a really fucked up definition of “drawing.” The story follows Lily from childhood to early adulthood.

Minerva/Poppy

💞 [FIC] Of Kittens and Serpents by Trueliarose | @trueliarose 💞 (T, Minerva/Poppy, 6.2k)

Navigating a relationship as teachers can be taxing, more so if one of your students is Harry Potter.

Remus/Sirius (as women)

💞 [FIC] Betrothal, Brothers, and Bullshit by tofeycat | @aspiring-artist-em💞 (E, femslash!Sirius/Remus, 3.6k)

Lesbian Wolfstar. Remus never went to Hogwarts, and she’s getting rather paranoid about the Grim that keeps following her everywhere.

M/F

Draco/Hermione

💞 [FIC] The Punch That Made a Mark by Tardis_Magic93 | @tardis-magic93 💞 (T, Draco/Hermione, 1.2k)

His Godfather’s eyes went wide with shock as if he noticed the soulmate mark right on his nose where Granger punched him. “Who is your soulmate?” Draco gulped nervously at his Godfather. He took too long to answer because his Godfather held his shoulders and shook him. “Speak, boy!” “Granger,” Draco mumbled. “Can you please speak louder, Draco,” his Godfather sighed. “Granger! Okay?” Draco sighed looking at his Godfather frantically.

💞 [FIC] Dizzy Edge of Heaven by Wanderingfair 💞 (E, Draco/Hermione, 9.8k)

Draco has just been traded from the Bulgarian National team to the Wimbourne Wasps. When moving into his new flat he hears his neighbor singing The Cure’s Just Like Heaven, and is immediately hit with a vision (or version) of their life together. He doesn’t believe in Divination, and has obviously been hit with one too many bludgers. The more time he spends around his new neighbor, the more he wants it to be true. OR The canon divergent telling of Draco Malfoy, a former Durmstran student, current Quidditch star, meeting Hermione Granger for the first time and being instantly unsure if he’s just incredibly smitten or he’s possibly found his soulmate.

Draco/Luna

💞 [FIC] something’s changed by scattermeamongthestars | @scattermeamongthestars💞 (E, Draco/Luna, 6.8k)

“I want to join the Order,” he repeated. His heart was beating so fast, so hard, he felt like his chest was going to burst. It hurt to breathe. A wise move. He’ll find his soulmate there.

Harry/Pansy

💞 [FIC] Ink Stained Skin by swoonbaby | @swoonbby 💞 (M, Harry/Pansy, 19.8k)

Pansy Parkinson went all the way to California to hide from her past and was pleased to find her escape a rousing success. At least it had been until a freak accident involving a spilled bottle of ink erased all her progress and sent her past (or possibly her future) careening back into her path.

Hermione/Severus

💞 [FIC] Small Silver Linings by dolor_dolores | @dolor-dolores💞 (T, Severus/Hermione, 33k)

Three touches – that’s what it takes to activate an ancient Merfolk binding magic, long forgotten in the wizarding world, and only applied to humans under rare circumstances. When Hermione Granger gets marked by the queen of the Merpeople during the Triwizard Tournament, she doesn’t know that she is bestowed with the ability to recognize her soulmate. Quite unfortunate so, Severus Snape would rather pretend to be dead than face is insufferable soulmate. However, he had made the calculations without Hermione, who is not so easily discouraged.

Katie/Marcus

💞 [FIC] Shatter Your Illusions of Love by liiilyevans | @liiilyevans 💞 (T, Katie/Marcus, 3k)

Katie Bell is Healer at St. Mungo’s. She deals with difficult patients all the time. Just usually not ones who have saved her life before.

Luna/Theo

💞 [FIC] In His Love Story by Halliwell19 | 💞 (E, Luna/Theo, 12.3k)

Set in magical regency England, Lord Theodore Nott is in want of a wife, except he doesn’t believe he will find a witch he could call his soulmate… until Lady Luna Lovegood made the Queen laugh.

Narcissa/Remus

💞 [FIC] Sheltered in Black Wings by Caiti | @caiti-creative-corner💞 (T, Narcissa/Remus, 2.4k)

Sometimes Narcissa wondered what her life might have been like without the bonds she held. And sometimes she had nightmares about the same. She would do whatever it took to protect her family and her people.

Neville/Pansy

💞 [FIC] Lover’s Leap by DrPansyParkinson💞 (E, Pansy/Neville, 13.5k)

The Wizarding World is small and insular—Pansy Parkinson and Neville Longbottom have known each other since they were children. But after Pansy’s Grandmother dies, a magical heirloom forces them to see each other in a new light.

💞 [FIC] Beyond the Garden’s Gate by MarinaJune | @sailtomarina 💞 (M, Neville/Pansy, 29.6k)

Sir Neville Longbottom is the unlikely hero of a gallant quest to slay the Evil Serpent Nagini and return Lady Pansy Parkinson to her fiancé, Prince Draco Malfoy. Except this lady doesn’t appreciate being rescued, nor does she want to go on a journey back to the kingdom–and that’s before they discover they might be each other’s soul mates along the way.

Pansy/Sirius

💞 [FIC] Incendio by UltramarineOrchid | @ultramarineorchid💞(M, Sirius/Pansy, 16.2k)

Sirius Black has spent his entire adult life running away from two things: his soulmate, and spoiled pureblood witches. When Pansy Parkinson enters his life, what could possibly go wrong?

M/M

Albus/Gellert

💞 [FIC] souls and marks by prima_vera | @girl-with-goats 💞 (T, Albus/Gellert, 1.1k)

A new parlour opens near the Diagon Alley, offering to reveal the soulmarks. Everyone is, naturally, curious, and clients start coming over, while the owner, one infamous Gellert Grindelwald, watches over them.

Draco/Harry

💞 [ART] The Petals Within Me by EraJMCouts | @erajmcouts 💞 (M, Draco/Harry, Digital Art)

The fine lines between love and lust, passion and possession, the want with the distrust.

💞 [FIC] Kiss Me, Kill Me, Keep Me Forever by DrWhoIsGinnyHolmes | @drwhoisginnyholmes 💞 (M, Draco/Harry, 2.4k)

A few quips back and forth, and the next thing Harry knew, he was tasting the insults straight from the devil’s mouth, sucking the popped “P” of his surname off Draco’s tongue and swallowing every scream that ripped through Draco’s self-control.

💞 [FIC] As bright as your smile by Nelween | @nelweensfic💞 (M, Draco/Harry, 2.8k)

In a world where you only start to see colours when you interact with your soulmate, everything turned back to shades of grey for Draco during the final battle. Until Potter and Luna show up to defend him during his trial.

💞 [FIC] Chosen of His Own Accord by AliceLiddle | @drarrypotterrenaissance 💞 (T, Draco/Harry, 17.8k)

From the prompt: Some families (the Malfoys, the Blacks, etc.) choose never to learn who their soulmate is due to the very high likelihood that they’re not a pure-blood. But the desire for your “other half” is strong, and every now and then, someone from those families decides to break tradition. In which Draco gets braver, Harry chooses his own path, and they both run into each other a lot while running errands.

💞 [FIC] Sparks by annaotherthing | @annanother-thing 💞 (E, Draco/Harry, 20k)

“I’m sorry,” Draco turned to him, “are we boring you?” Greg looked up. “No, I’m just hungry, and you’re taking far too long to just tell them that you and Potter are soulmates. Do you have to be this dramatic?” There was a moment of silence, before all hell broke loose. Harry didn’t know soulmates existed until he was fourteen. He wasn’t sure what he imagined it would be like, but he knew it wasn’t this. But that’s not to say he didn’t like it.

💞 [FIC] Blank Space by Jelliebabie💞 (E, Draco/Harry, 34k)

Life has not been easy for Draco Malfoy since the war. His hopes that he could complete his house arrest and finally get on with his life were not to be. Spat at in the streets, unable to get work, Draco is getting desperate. Desperate enough to put his life in the hands of a backstreet practitioner to see if finally getting rid of the Dark Mark can make a difference. But his decision has consequences he had not expected, and may provide the answer as to why Harry Potter seems unable to leave him alone.

💞 [FIC] A pulled down shade by fast_brother 💞 (M, Draco/Harry, 43.1k)

Harry does not like Draco Malfoy, not even one bit. Never did and never will. That is, until he finds himself married to him.

💞 [FIC] Expiration of a Summer’s Rose by apricitydays 💞 (M, Draco/Harry, 60.0k)

Draco returns to England ten years after the war. Many things are different, but Harry is the same. But what does Harry have to do with Draco’s compelling new interest in botany? After an unexpected event disrupts the life Draco has built for himself, he slowly finds out. A hanahaki case fic

💞[FIC] tell me where it ends by SquibNation10 💞 (E, Draco/Harry, 63k)

After Harry wakes from his short-lived death, he begins to see red strings tied around the fingers of everyone he sees. No one else seems to be able to see them. He is surprised to see who is (or isn’t) tied to each other. He is tied to Draco Malfoy. Feature: Supportive Kingsley, a twist on the 8th-year fic

Draco/Harry and Harry/Tom

💞 [ART] Pour My Heart (In Places Where It Can’t Be Touched) by starlitsilvereyes | @starlitsilvereyes💞 (G, Tom/Harry and Draco/Harry, Digital Art)

Draco Malfoy’s soulmate is Harry Potter. Harry Potter’s soulmate is Tom Riddle. Only Tom Riddle disrupts fate with his bare hands when he decides to split his soul, severing the string that links him to Harry Potter. The prophecy takes its course – turning star-crossed lovers into enemies.

Draco/Ron

💞 [FIC] unless you’re choosing me by The_HouseRyn | @the-houseryn 💞 (M, Draco/Ron, 31k)

A soulmate was a choice. It was two people deciding to spend the rest of their lives together, weathering any storm. That was a fact that Ron would hold as truth for the rest of his life. Even when the Unspeakables found a spell in some ancient text that tied soulmates together with a red cord and showed them a moment of their “true love”. It was a hoax, he was sure of it. But no one else agreed, willing to upend their lives just because a stupid spell said so. Ron wouldn’t have minded so much if it hadn’t wrecked his.

Harry/Regulus

💞 [FIC] The Enemy of My Enemy by MidnightStargazer | @midnightstargazer💞 (T, Harry/Regulus, 33.8k)

In a world where soulmates are identified by tattoo-like marks on the body, Harry Potter was born with a constellation on his arm. For nearly seventeen years, it sits there, dormant and dark. Then, as he and Dumbledore enter the cave where they believe a Horcrux may be hidden, the stars begin to glow. The Blacks don’t go looking for their soulmates. Regulus was taught from an early age to ignore the lightning bolt on his skin and prioritize his duty to the family. But when he finds himself thrust into an unfriendly future, his soulmate may be the only person he can trust. At first glance, the two have little in common beyond their mutual desire to see Voldemort defeated. Will that be enough to bring them together? In a world where soulmates are identified by tattoo-like marks on the body, Harry Potter was born with a constellation on his arm. For nearly seventeen years, it sits there, dormant and dark. Then, as he and Dumbledore enter the cave where they believe a Horcrux may be hidden, the stars begin to glow. The Blacks don’t go looking for their soulmates. Regulus was taught from an early age to ignore the lightning bolt on his skin and prioritize his duty to the family. But when he finds himself thrust into an unfriendly future, his soulmate may be the only person he can trust. At first glance, the two have little in common beyond their mutual desire to see Voldemort defeated. Will that be enough to bring them together?

Harry/Severus

💞 [ART] Lovers' Eyes by acydpop | @acydpop 💞 (T, Harry/Severus, Traditional Art)

Having a soulmate in their world was dangerous. Being away from Harry while he was in auror training was painful, but Severus found a way to keep Harry with him forever.

💞 [PODFIC] Finders Keepers by Lilian recorded by Cailynwrites💞 (T, Harry/Severus, 50 min)

Based on the fic by Lilian Severus Snape doesn’t find a single thing until he’s twenty. By that time, he has given up and ignores a young boy, when he arrives at Hogwarts.

💞 [FIC] Invisible String by emeraldlove | @givereadersahug 💞 (G, Harry/Severus, 3.7k)

The first time Harry saw Snape’s black eyes — him truly acknowledging Snape’s existence beyond him being his mean professor — it was the night after Harry killed Professor Quirrell. He was dreaming and in his dreams he was screaming. Harry dreams of Severus over the years.

Harry/Teddy

💞 [FIC] Of Flowers, Unfaded by Aspen_Gray | @aspengray 💞 (E, Teddy/Harry, 34k)

“Excerpt from Arithmancy journals of the witch Brwyn y Dail, inventor of the Ipsum and Morex spells: “In crafting this Fpell, it had been mine Intention to affift fuch Perfons that feek their Foulmate. They will come to know themselves with the bundle of Flora I have named the Ipsa Coronae and their Mate or Mates with an Alteri one…Af their Relationfhip groweth, the third and final Coronae, the Vicini, will detail its ftatuf.” Or: Teddy and Harry are soulmates. It takes a long time for Teddy to realize this fact and an even longer time for Harry to accept it.

Harry/Tom (Voldemort)

💞 [FIC] Stories that end and begin by HadrianPeverellBlack 💞 (M, Tom/Harry, 4k)

Tom had been right. Now that he was in his fifth year at Hogwarts, he could state that Soulmates were a nuisance. With the exception of a few souls who could consider themselves lucky, most of them were forced to put up with people they despised and who would do no good for their future.

James/Regulus

💞 [FIC] Fireflies by shushu_yaoi_lj | @orange-peony 💞 (E, James/Regulus, 26.9k)

James’s fingers suddenly brush against his skin, touching the very top of Regulus’s spine. “This,” James says, his touch featherlight as it ghosts over Regulus’s skin, making it tingle in the most peculiar way. “It’s a lovely tattoo. Almost like antlers. When did you get it?” Regulus can’t speak. This can’t be possible. Of all people—why James Potter? Still, his mother’s words echo in his head. Every member of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black has a soul mark. A tattoo that appears at birth and can only be seen by their soulmate.

James/Sirius

💞 [FIC] breakable heaven by Graceless_Lady | @gracelesslady23 💞 (M, James/Sirius, 7.8k)

James lies comatose in the hospital wing with a curse that can be cured by his soulmate’s kiss. Unlike fairytales, however, in life the story doesn’t end with learning your soulmate’s identity… and true love’s course doesn’t always run smoothly.

Marcus/Oliver

💞 [FIC] rough around the edges (but the edges look good) by epsilonargus | @epsilonargus 💞 (G, Marcus/Oliver, 8.5k)

oliver wood is obsessed with 2 things: quidditch, and marcus flint. and his soulmark will be, must be, awakened by marcus flint’s first words—if only he could get the surly slytherin to talk to him…

Marcus/Percy

💞 [FIC] Fifteen Years of Preparation by EloiseEvans | @eloiseevans 💞 (M, Marcus/Percy, 3.3k)

Percy wasn’t ready. A fact that threw him off, regardless of the cause. Because Percy was always ready. It was a fact of life, a tenet that he lived by. The situation was made even worse by the sheer amount of time that he’d had to prepare. Fifteen years to be precise. But together, they would fix it.

Remus/Severus

💞 [FIC] Phantom by nocturn 💞 (T, Remus/Severus, 1.8k)

Soulmates communicate by writing on each other’s skin, Severus leaves Remus on read way too often, and the two confront a little unfinished business because (you guessed it) they’re ghosts!

💞 [FIC] He’s already in me by p0intless_p0et 💞 (T, Severus/Remus, 2.9k)

On the night of Dumbledore’s death, Lupin’s mark appeared.

Remus/Sirius

💞 [Podfic] Coming Across a Silver Moon based on the fic by sliebman10, recorded by BurningAurora | @burningaurora 💞 (T, Sirius/Remus, 30 min)

When Sirius’s father bids him to investigate the rumors of a beast in the forest surrounding their lands, he meets a humble woodsman, Remus, and learns about the mark of true love, and what exactly might be lurking in the forest.

💞 [Podfic] Romantic Obscenities and Other Curiosities Of Love based on the fic by casstayinmyass, recorded by BurningAurora and ashata | @itsaash💞 (T, Sirius/Remus, 41 min)

Sirius Black’s soulmate has a foul mouth– that’s all he knows. Remus Lupin wonders what he could have possibly done to warrant such an explosion of words that he’s had tattooed on his back his whole life. In the small mountain town of Hogsmeade, they’re both bound to find out soon

💞 [FIC] Click to Connect by TherestheSnitch | @theresthesnitch 💞 (E, Sirius/Remus, 11.0k)

When the only way to find a soulmate is to see if you Click! during anal sex, being a Bottom with a very well endowed soulmate can make things hard–hard to get off, that is. Sirius is a little desperate to find his big-cocked Top soulmate.e

Severus/Sirius

💞 [FIC] Soulless: Blind Date by picklesonsaturday | @picklesonjupiter 💞 (T, Sirius/Severus, 1.7k)

There were three types of soulmates: platonic, romantic, and enemy. Severus was one of the rare few without a soulmate. He was one of the soulless. Those who are shunned by society because they are seen as unable to make connections, which is a blatant lie. Or Severus has the opportunity of finding love when he goes on a blind date.

#hp soulmates 2023 #hp soulmates #masterlist #hp fest #hp events #mod post

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