#Whose big idea was it to have finals a bit before Christmas/Winter holidays break?!?!

[kay9leo]

Here's a doodle of my hl mc chilling unlike me who is grading everyone's finals 🥹😭 (The grades were due earlier and I had to ask for an extension - I'm cooked too lol)

just some quick art of my hogwarts legacy mc instead of studying for finals <3

(im cooked)

[featciren]

Seasonal Companion

Ever since the death of Solomon Sallow and the departure of his sister, Sebastian has been spending most of the time alone wherever he goes. Not even the sight of his old friend Ominis is seen by his side anymore.

That is until Professor Weasley caught him on one of the corridors before the winter break.

*Female MC appears for a brief moment and then leaves

As if a protective shield is casted to separate the premise from the rest of the world, the rush hubbub alongside the wave of people right after crossing the bridge are so subtle and overwhelming. Every store is playing their own music outside the doors, contributing to the chaotic sound experience. Such an environment is undoubtedly the biggest nightmare for some.

Nonetheless, the smell of butter and cinnamon still lures more and more people to go deeper into the village like a vortex. Everyone is flooding into the streets for their seasonal shopping needs. Some villagers mutter under their breath about having trouble stepping out of their own doors while some other villagers are more than happy to enchant decorations and signs in the mid air to attract any potential customer to their stores.

Garreth tiptoes in the middle of the crowd and yells to the back. No signs. The sea of people is blocking his view and his voice is not loud enough. He decides to raise and wave one arm in the air for his companion to see. This time a brunette jumps up from the crowd for a mere second and gets flooded by the many other heads again.

Hurried to the spot, Garreth finally manages to retrieve the brunette by grabbing his hand.

“This is nuts!” Sebastian shouts, holding onto the hand tightly while pushing their way forward together with Garreth leading at the front. “Didn’t you hear me, Weasley?”

“Hear what? I can barely hear myself.” He turns his face slightly towards Sebastian in case his voice fails to reach his ears. “Let’s go this way!”

To be honest, Sebastian doesn’t even bother to ask where they’re heading now. He just hopes Garreth is not leading them to an even more crowded spot to suffocate themselves to death. If their hands disconnect and lose each other again, he might just apparate back to Hogwarts and call it a day.

The two finally squeeze out of the crowd and stop at the end of an alley. Some people are also navigating the village through these passages, but feelings are relative. Compared to the chaos at High Street they’ve just escaped from, this stinky filthy alley is literally a diving bell in the deep sea. Both boys sigh in relief.

“Phew! That was quite an experience.” The ginger head puts his hands on his waist. Big smile on his face showing how proud he feels to have made their way out alive.

Sebastian is not that amused on the contrary with his knotted eyebrows and balled fists. “Whose idea is it to go shopping in the week before Christmas? Am I the only one who thinks it’s common sense to not visit Hogsmeade right before the holiday?”

Garreth is a bit uneasy to see an upset Sebastian, but he’s also aware that his friend’s accusation isn’t pointing at him. “Well, you already knew so I don’t feel the need to explain further…”

The brunette sighs. Of course he knows. That’s why he didn’t turn down the request when the Professor approached him.

He’d always known the Weasley family is big, but he didn’t know they also have relatives living in Manchester. Unfortunately, Garreth’s father - the organiser of the party only came up with the idea of also inviting their relatives to join two days ago, making the quest outrageously urgent. With their house-elves being all busy running around to decorate the venue, Garreth is the one being assigned to shop for extra beverages and presents, and Sebastian is the outsourced helper and advisor considering the amount of supplies on the list.

As a reward, one day of pending detention will be wiped off on Sebastian’s side in return. It’s definitely a tempting offer, as he doesn’t want to be cleaning the boys’ lavatory or serving as a temporary night-shift nurse in St. Mungo’s anymore.

“…Let’s get this over with as soon as possible. I’m tired already.”

“That’s the spirit! I’d say we should start with what’s clearly specified on the list first.” He fishes out a folded parchment from his pocket at the back of his pants and opens it.

Two bottles of Firewhisky, three Mulled Meade and a carton of punch…

The Three Broomsticks is just sitting adjacent to the spot where they’re standing at the moment, parted by the High Street, but it’s unwise to be carrying that much liquor all the way through their whole trip. They’re going to be heavy and it would be tragic to try to squeeze them through the crowd of people.

Sebastian suggests making a reservation at the pub first and doing the same to the rest of the groceries before Sirona finishes packing them. This way they can retrieve them on their way back in a beeline without waiting. Garreth disagrees, expressing his concern that it is only going to be even more crowded when evening comes, and they may not be able to return to the same stores even with empty hands.

“Trust me. Things are gonna be resolved by then. I have an idea and it’s much more efficient this way.” The Slytherin said dismissively but also convincingly while looking right into the Gryffindor's eyes.

For a moment, Garreth almost believes these words mean sincerity. Now is one of the occasions when his usually trusting nature is questioned by the small voice of his instinct.

Sebastian had always looked friendly and open. The soft fluffy hair and the innocent face had helped him befriend almost everyone he met. That is until troubles were caused which reveals his mischievous nature. The Sorting Hat didn’t just throw everyone in the houses randomly.

However, speaking of troubles, Garreth didn’t cause less in the past years so he can’t really judge the Slytherin by the number of detentions, and the hidden goal of this trip as specified by his aunt cannot be threatened by differing opinions on such small things. Garreth stops himself from being sceptical and calls it a misperception quietly.

He agrees to the proposal. The shopping trip goes smoothly. Store after store they have been crossing out the items on the list gradually. They carry the smaller ones in their arms before moving to the next stop as long as they don’t occupy much space.

When the sun starts to set and they’ve finally finished shopping for the specified items, Hogsmeade is still flooded with people. Fortunately, tea time has certainly kept some of them seated in cafés and bars, allowing some fresh air on the streets.

The two use this opportunity to catch a breath outside a café with a cranachan in Garreth’s hand. Securing the paper bags between their legs, they start digging inside the small cup simultaneously. It would have been much better if they didn't have to share. Garreth is only given the necessary amount of money for the shopping list and Sebastian claims to be uninterested in sweets especially when the prices have skyrocketed during the season to a robbery level. Garreth took two teaspoons anyway.

The brunette’s gaze follows a couple of gentlemen who are passing by with some big wooden boxes and props in their hands, “Hmph. Looks like there’s going to be an event tonight.”

“That’s not good. Wonder if we can make it out of the village before it starts?”

“I heard someone mentioning six o’clock in the café. Not sure if it’s what they’re talking about though.” Another scoop of cream from the bottom of the cup. Sebastian’s eyes are fixed on the dessert all the way when he talks.

Looking at the top of the brunette’s head and his hand holding onto the cup, Garreth can’t hold back a big grin on his face in silence. Someone has a sweet tooth. “Maybe we should ask the locals. Wait for me with the groceries. Here. Take the cup and finish it.”

“Gladly.” Sebastian pretends to be nonchalant but he couldn’t hide the faint smile and the delightfulness in his tone. He sweeps the bags to the roadside with his legs.

Once the door closes behind the ginger head, he finally reveals his true cravings towards the cup, savouring the sweetness and fluffy texture of the cream fully with pure enjoyment. Merlin - he almost drooled all over the floor when they arrived at the front of the display cases earlier. He’d always loved the desserts from Hogsmeade, but the budget is simply too tight for him to buy confectioneries considering there are still school lunches to pay for next month.

When Anne was still around, he used to buy some from time to time to share with her and Ominis in the Undercroft. His uncle didn’t give them much pocket money back then. He was raising two kids with only two hands after all. And with the new patrons - he’s been receiving even less now.

He’d always been aware of how important money is so he doesn’t feel right every time someone shares something with him. It’s like owing someone a favour and he’s expected to pay them back soon or later. The world has been working around him like that since he was small and works well if he follows the rules.

With Weasley though, well - his family is big with Matilda being the headmistress of the school. Surely they have some fortune, right? In this case, he feels more rightful and comfortable to accept anything Garreth gives.

“Bad news. A parade is going to start at six and crowd control will be at four.” Garreth pushes the door open with another hand pointing towards the way he comes from.

The brunette lets out a surprised “Oh”, “Not entirely. At least we can get out of this chaos sooner.”

“And with literally only half an hour left to shop for the rest!” He frowns with worries written all over his face. He doesn’t like to be rushed as he tends to make wrong decisions under such circumstances. He already starts to panic imagining his cousins’ disappointed faces when they open the presents.

“You haven’t come up with one single idea of what to buy yet, have you?” Sebastian narrows his eyes with a smirk. It’s fun to see the Gryffindor freaks out at such small problems. Just like a big puppy, mature on the outside but simple on the inside.

“I was in detention yesterday. You knew that. Didn’t even have the time to do my Herbology homework.” He sighs, sounds defeated, but his mood is suddenly lit up with an idea sparkling in his head. “Wait. Isn’t that a good opportunity to test and promote my new concoctions? There are dozens of them still waiting for more data from different subjects…”

Sebastian blinks, watching the ginger head stroking his own chin with one hand, legs pacing back and forth while enthusiastically considering the viability of this idea.

Finally comprehending what he’d just heard, a chilling streak of fear suddenly spikes up along his spine. The massive tragedy of the Gryffindor common room being flooded with rainbow vomit on the floor caused by his newly “improved” version of Wiggenweld Potion last week is still on the top surface of his memories. He could imagine the nauseating smell even though he was not physically there, and watching Natsai retching for the whole week with tears in her eyes whenever she tried to eat had definitely made him feel sorry for her.

He bears no grudge towards the Weasley family - even though he doesn’t know every single one of them in person, but no one deserves such cruelty on Christmas. This shit is no joke.

His gaze follows the pacing Weasley who is about to commit an act of unintentional domestic violence towards his own family. “- Are you sure, Garreth? You don’t get to meet your relatives a lot during the year. I reckon they will be more happy to receive something that lasts longer and not consumable - at least not with only one sip.”

“Ohhh they’re certainly not getting only one sip. I’m going to use a bigger cauldron and brew at least one carton for each of them.” The young Weasley beams with stars in his eyes, so excited that he stretches out his arms lively to illustrate the size of the cauldron.“This is even better. The error value can be minimised with the repetitive sampling of results.”

Sebastian is about to open his mouth to interrupt his thoughts, but the ginger head is quicker by sprinting to his footside and picks up the paper bags.

“Weasley - “

“We need to hurry. J. Pippin’s is on the other side of the village. I must go grab the ingredients before he runs out of supplies!” The determined Gryffindor is like an unstoppable hound now. Energy surges through his whole body, making him restless and excited. He shoves one of the paper bags in the Slytherin’s chest and yanks him to the crowd by the wrist.

“Blast - Wait!“ The deafening noise of the crowd surrounds them so he has to literally shout. The sudden raise of volume gets the ginger head’s attention who stops on his track and turns his head around, dumbfounded as he has no clue why the usually untroubled Slytherin suddenly looks genuinely concerned. “Uhm - As you said, J. Pippin’s is too far away. That’s a huge detour. Let’s stick to our original route for now.” He tries to shift his focus from his precious inventions bit by bit. This potion maniac’s mind cannot be changed swiftly with just a few words.

“But what if - “

“Pippin had restocked more this year. Very reliable source. It’s gonna be fine.” Lie. “No need to rush. Don’t you think it will be best to escape the busy area by making J. Pippin’s the final stop? The parade is going to start around that time anyway.” He purposely adds a luring tone in his words with a confident smile to fake his intention. 

Garreth thinks for a while when the crowd keeps pushing the boys to different directions. Sebastian lets him think, but he decides to act earlier. He spots a shop and improvises by snaking his arm around the Gryffindor's so that he can avoid being pulled away by the boy. He hates himself for being a juvenile when the sea of well-built adults keep towering over them and pushing them to all directions.

“Oh look! Flutes and Lutes!” Sebastian fixes his eyes on the target and points at it with another hand, successfully guiding Garreth’s attention to look at the same thing. “Let’s get inside. I got something I have wanted to buy for a while now.”

“Uhm, okay?” Although confused, the ginger head agrees after being yanked to the music store.

Sorry, Garreth. I’m not going to help you, but I’m saving your arse.

After buying an enchanted music box (with Garreth’s money) and walking out of the store, they see a thin layer of smoke separating the street into two lanes. Crowd control had slowly started.

The ginger head panics but is soon being pulled to the next store. This time to the Gladrags.

Before he even realises, a bucket is shoved into his hands and the brunette had already started throwing things inside joyfully, suggesting them to be wonderful gifts for his relatives. It almost looks like the brunette is randomly picking up things, but he claims it’s the store that’s packed with people and they need to hurry.

Looking at the Dancing socks that Sebastian is inspecting, Garreth frowns in concern, “Are you sure these are proper for Christmas presents? I mean…I saw people wearing these before and I reckon they are only for pranks…”

Absolutely angelic, compared to your products of creativity.

“Well, that explains why Slytherins are always more fun to hang out with.” The brunette huffs with a smirk, stuffing the socks in the corner of the basket. “Trust me. It’s gonna be the BEST gift they’ve received in their life”

The ginger head chuckles, fires back in an inviting tone. “Are you saying we Gryffindors are boring? I gotta sneak you in our common room next time. Bet you wouldn’t want to go back to Slytherin anymore.”

Sebastian cocks an eyebrow at him, interested. “Is that a challenge? Well I’d be the judge of that.” Speaking of the Gryffindor’s common room, he suddenly feels like it’s the right timing to school this potion maniac a bit. “...but if it’s going to be flooded with vomit then I’d rather stay away. Still want to eat what I paid the school for, you know?”

The mention of last week’s incident catches him a bit off guard. He raises both hands in the air. Surprisingly, not in defence but in excitement. “Oh! About that, I’ve already figured out what went wrong. I just have to change the recipe a little bit and stir it in a slightly different manner…”

The Slytherin is awestruck. How in Merlin’s name can his classmate be so enthusiastic and pure-minded? He expected the sarcasm could at least make him think twice before doing his human experiments. Now the statement only helped fuel his motivation to continue.

“...I really want to see how your family has been raising you, to be honest.” Sebastian feels defeated. He lowers his head to compare the garments in front of him.

“Don’t be like that. I see a lot of things in common between the two of us, you know?” The Gryffindor nudges him, speaking softly by his ear so that no one else can hear.

“Oh? How so?” He looks up at Garreth with narrowed eyes, wondering if it’s an admiration or an insult.

“Well, we both get a lot of detentions and always for only one reason. For you it’s always the library. For me it’s always the potions. And you were daring and brave enough to have borne the blame for Sorcha last year. That’s something most of my Slytherin friends wouldn’t do.”

“Okay…?” Sebastian cringes a little bit, not expecting to hear “compliments” in such a manner, especially for that little event with the new fifth-year. Most of his house members deemed his action stupid (especially for someone who’s from another house) and even started shipping the two teasingly. Thanks to Sorcha’s aggressive attitude towards the rumours, they were stopped rather quickly.

“Not just Sorcha, a bunch of Ravenclaws would DIE to sneak into the restricted section, you know?”

“Speaking of Ravenclaw, don’t you think you can learn something from them when you design the next potion recipe? I’m sure they’d love to recommend some research for you.”

The Gryffindor snorts, “I’d rather not. Too much planning and reading. By the time they finished researching, I'd already created something for trials. If I have the mood, I’d even proofread every single potion book in the library. There is simply too much false information written inside.”

Always act before planning. Typical Gryffindor. Sebastian sighs. He rarely judges his schoolmates’ shortcomings by the stereotypes of the four houses, but as far as he sees, those with such recklessness are usually from the house of lion. “Surely you can try balancing things out a little bit…”

“Talking shites about Ravenclaw, aye?”

Surprised by the female voice, both boys spin around to see the devil they’ve been talking about.

The cornflower-haired girl walks in a lazy posture towards them, one hand holding a paper cup and another throwing a roasted chestnut towards her mouth. Sebastian fishes one for himself from the paper cup when she passes it to his direction.

“Fancy seeing you here. I thought you’re not staying around during the holidays.” The brunette greets her cheerfully.

“That was the plan but I changed my mind.” Speaking in a languid tone, her eyes swim around the store slowly, taking in the fabulous decorations that can’t be usually seen and smiles sheepishly. “This is the first proper Christmas I can enjoy in the wizarding world and just look at that, I don’t miss London anymore.”

Is she high on Euphoria again or simply suffering from insomnia?

“Are you alone? You can join us.” The friendly Gryffindor invites when he doesn’t see anyone around the girl.

She eyes him and considers the offer for a mere moment. “Nah, thanks. I enjoy loneliness - I mean freedom, more precisely.” And then she smiles mysteriously to both of them from left to right. “‘ight. Enjoy your date, pups. Seeing you two may have significantly changed my mind from casting Infringo on this facking crowd here...”

She grits her teeth when she mentions the crowd before floating away. The murderous glare towards the people around her is hidden behind the fancy pink lenses but not entirely invisible.

Unlike Sebastian, she never likes to be in crowded places or interacting with strangers. That reminds him why even after considering her as a close friend, they rarely hang out together. Ominis was similar given his eye condition and his sensitive hearing. Anne had always been the only one who was more than happy to go to fairs with him.

He wonders what they are going to do on Christmas? Does Ominis have to go back to the Gaunt house? And Anne, he doesn’t even know her whereabouts…

“Interesting lady, isn’t she?” The ginger head smiles, eyes following the back of the Raveclaw’s head. “I heard a lot about her dealing with the Ranrok royalists and trolls last school year, and she’s always ready to help me to do the ‘difficult’ parts for my inventions. Her bravery would fit into Gryffindor as well.”

Surprised that his companion is still on this topic, the Slytherin laughs, “I doubt if you’d still think the same once you found out the true intention behind those actions.” 

“Are you bragging about the intimacy between you two? Okay. I’m curious now.”

“Nothing to tell. If you want to earn the privilege, consider treating me better from now on.” The snake replies in a cheeky tone, lowering his head to continue comparing the garments in front of him half-mindedly.

“I believe I’ve been doing a good job on this matter?” Garreth scratches his head, puzzled, replaying the interactions between the two in his head.

The questions keep him occupied all the way to the cashier, so when the brunette turns to him with a bright smile after Mr. Hills tells them the sum of money, he fishes out his wallet naturally.

Too easy. Weasley is too easy to manipulate.

The Slytherin smirks, proud of himself when he walks towards the exit. With so little galleons left in Garreth’s pocket, he won’t be able to buy much for his lovely potions at the end of the day.

Just when they set their foot outside the attire shop, a big firework explodes right in front of the door step, shining blue and orange light on their faces. They are caught in surprise and fringe at the sudden blow of light. An arm catches Sebastian’s shoulders.

“Sorry about that. Are you alright, young men?” A man comes close to check on the two with a big smile on his face, asking both of them but eyes fixed on the brunette at the end. They swiftly turn to look at him, and then they see a woman smiling apologetically at them behind the man in a distance while bending down to grab the little tube in a child’s hand. That’s where the fireworks came from.

Sebastian blinks. “- Yeah, I’m good. No worries. You good, Weasley?” He throws the same question to the boy who is still holding his shoulders, for some reason looking quite serious on the face.

“Are you sure? You don’t look like it.” There is concern written on the man’s face.

Before understanding where the doubt comes from, Sebastian gets pulled away from the doorstep to the closest alley. Garreth’s grip is tight but gentle. It’s the strange gesture that makes him a bit uneasy.

“What? What is it?” The brunette pushes his arm away when they slow down on their path.

“You should see your face. You look terrified!” The Gryffindor looks a bit anxious but keeps his voice low, as if a normal voice would startle his friend to jump. “It’s okay to be scared. You don’t have to pretend to be tough.”

“I’m not pretending to be tough, and I’m not scared of a blasted firework. At least not now.” Now he feels a bit offended. Why are they even talking about this right now?

Out of all the possible futures, he can never foresee his face being cupped by the ginger boy. The initial thought is that Weasley’s got really warm hands, but the sudden physical contact still makes him stunned and cringed.

Weasley takes a deep breath before looking at him firmly in the eyes. Voice lower than usual. “If you say so. Just remember we can leave the place anytime if you don’t feel right. Okay?”

“Without a doubt.” He hesitantly removes the boy’s hands from his face slowly. Garreth’s gaze is so intense that it forces him to break eye contact. He knows this annoying conversation will only continue to no end if he keeps denying so he stops. Garreth retreats his hands then. 

Still no idea what the fuss is about.

“But damn, your face is freezing. Shall we get inside?”

Sebastian shrugs. Well, that’s what he was going to suggest anyway.

Zonko’s would be the perfect destination for exploiting the very last bit of what’s left in Garreth’s pocket.

He had memorised the prices for each item faintly as it’s one of his favourite stores in the village. He seldom buys from the store though. Usually just browsing. There are times when the shopkeeper suspects him to be stealing as he always leaves empty-handed. Sebastian feels lucky to not be spotted by the shopkeeper when they open the door as he’s busy running around between customers.

The new products showcasing in the mid-air are stunning. No wonder why so many people keep flushing into the store. The owner is well-prepared for the season.

Sebastian squeezes through the crowd, searching for one specific item according to his memory. On his path, a giant mirror is placed behind a little orb that emits light beams to form a pattern of a milky way, making the light show seem boundless. He looks into the mirror and is shocked by what he sees - his face is paler than usual. Red rims under the eyes like they’re about to cry. And the eyebrows - angling down that makes his face look scared. He frowns at the scene and tries to readjust the muscles on his face to no avail.

“Hey, look what I’ve found!” The cheerful Weasley comes back with a box of something that breaks the thought of the young Slytherin. His excitement is soon replaced by a look of concern when he sees the boy’s face. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Finally understanding the cause of the sudden change of attitude on the Gryffindor’s side, the snake feels kind of irritated and embarrassed. His face is nowhere reflecting his current state of mind - at least not the kind of emotion he wants to show. He doesn’t like to be seen as fragile because it means weakness.

“I assure you I’m -“

He cuts himself off when he spots something in the distance and hurries himself to pick it up. Unfortunately, someone picks it up slightly quicker than he does.

He looks up to see a young adult who's probably in his twenties, not much older than him. A child is sticking close to his robe who’s probably his son. They’re now looking at each other in the eyes awkwardly and the gentleman looks like he’d fallen into a dilemma for an instant when he sees those puppy eyes.

Garreth follows him to the spot and inspects what’s in their hands, “Is this what you want? A mini mannequin?”

“- Yeah. It does some tricks but also works like a normal mannequin…”

“Be careful. That is the last one.” The shopkeeper happens to be passing by with a tower of boxes and hears what they said.

Damn it. Gotta change my target then.

Just when Sebastian thinks of giving up, the gentleman says with an empathetic smile, “It’s alright. Please, take it.”

Seeing the mannequin being pushed into the brunette’s chest, the little child urges his father to take it back in a crying tone. The man just crouches down and picks the child up in his arms and soothes him by telling him to pick something else instead. He bids his goodbye to the two boys with an apologetic smile.

What the…fuck?

He thinks of one possibility and starts checking the mannequin. Garreth sighs with a gentle smile, “I don’t think it’s about the mannequin. It’s about you.”

“What does that even mean?” Sebastian frowns, frustrated that there are now even more questions to be answered. Garreth just takes the mannequin from his hands and heads directly to the cashier and pays. “Wait, what are you -“

Sebastian doesn’t get to receive the answer and they are already out of the store.

“This is for you, Sebastian.” The young Weasley turns around and smiles at him. “Merry Christmas.”

Sebastian widens his eyes and feels his face heated in embarrassment right away. Why in Merlin’s name would he be buying him a Christmas present? Could it be that he’s teasing him with his secret plan?

“I was to suggest you buy this for the party.” Sebastian confesses, secretly panicking and embraces himself for Garreth’s revelation.

“That’s right. So by that logic, you’d better show up at the party.”

Sebastian is totally in shock now, never had he expected himself to be invited to a classmate’s family party - not to mention a Weasley family party.

“I don’t know about your plans for Christmas, but my family would be very excited to see you there.” Garreth continues. The eyes are so caring like he’s not looking at his classmate of the same age, but more like looking at a small stray animal, especially after seeing him being all alone since the new school year and that he’s zoning out more than ever.

He’d heard Ominis and him are not friends anymore and they are not seen talking to each other when they return to the school. The way the usually cheerful and outgoing Slytherin still tries to act like nothing happened just looks…sad (and it’s indeed showing on his face).

Hence when his aunt proposed this shopping trip and the party to him, he almost hugged her for this genius idea.

“What? No! It’s gonna be a family party. I don’t want to be an intruder.” Sebastian rejects without hesitation. Even though he considers it as a thrilling idea especially when it’s gonna be his first lonely Christmas, he just doesn’t think it’s a proper thing to do.

Seeing the brunette deep in his thoughts again, Garreth pushes,“I got to get you to the party. I’m not allowing you to skip our parties after all the help I received from you.”

“Well, you can pay me in other w-“

“Sebastian - please.” Enough of his stubbornness, the ginger head cuts him off and smiles warmly, stretching out one hand to hold onto his shoulder.

Those emerald eyes are full of determination and an equally unwavering stubbornness. Sebastian had suddenly realised they’re always clear like crystals. Never had he once seen them in a muddy colour. Now with the warm street lights casting a hint of orange on them, they simply look magical and yet match Garreth so much. Like fire under the cauldron.

For half a second, he feels sorry to have used lies to manipulate this pure human.

But then, he really feels repulsed by those eyes looking so firmly into his, like penetrating deep into his soul.

“Guess that I have not a choice then.” Speaking in a weak voice, he tries to keep a straight face but breaks eye contact shyly for the second time today. “But I don’t go to parties without blowing things up.”

Garreth is stunned for a moment. Is that a joke? But he realises either answer is not important. If it’s not a joke, then the invitation has become even more important. He laughs, “I’m sure my dad and Aunt Matilda will bring their wands along.”

Sebastian smiles hesitatingly at the answer. They look at each other in awkward silence with Garreth’s face beaming bright, looking like he had achieved something unimaginable. “That’s it, then! You’re coming to the party!”

“Look at you. If I haven’t been in this conversation, I’d think you’ve won a lottery.” The brunette huffs out a laugh, but can’t stop smiling even if he wants to. This little lion’s smile is infectious.

He looks back to the crowd and notices the sun had fully set. Darkness had enveloped the sky but the candles and glowing decorations in the village had lit it up further. The parade should start soon. They must leave.

Luckily enough for them, the paths separating by crowd control happen to be moving towards the same direction to their final stops. The last part of their journey is finished rather smoothly.

Now, to think about how they’re gonna bring all the bags back to the castle.

“You said you have an idea. I’d like to hear that now.” Carrying the packages on his shoulders and arms in Three Broomsticks, the ginger head asked, smirking.

“Don’t you worry. Our solution is on the other side of the bridge.”

Leading the both of them to their starting point of this journey, Sebastian walks straight to a carriage and starts loading the bags on it by the bridge.

Garreth is amused, “You’ve reserved a carriage? That’s incredible!”

“Do you really think I got galleons to book such a luxurious service?” The Slytherin spares him a glance without stopping his hands. He gestures to Garreth to tell him to load the carriage as well.

The Gryffindor blinks, tries to think what it means before asking, but then is shocked by his guess. “YOU’RE STEALING IT!?”

“BORROWING. I’m gonna return it once we’re done. Whoever owns this carriage wouldn’t be getting out of the village soon anyway. They must have come for the parade if they still haven’t returned now.” The Slytherin shrugs, smiling confidently. “Besides, they won’t be able to get out of the village soon. You saw how chaotic it is inside.”

It sounds kind of…reasonable? But something doesn’t feel right. Garreth had stolen things before, yes, but only from Honeydukes and it was something insignificant to the owner. This carriage though. Look at the soft and silky cushions and luxurious carpets inside…Out of all the carriages parked at the same spot, this Slytherin actually walked straight to the most fancy one. (We're so going to be arrested once the owner finds out without a doubt) His original idea is to use the one eye statue secret passage and transport the bags by hand. Might not be very practical thinking about the broken bridges, but they can take the things out one by one anyway (Wingardium Leviosa?). However, the carriage is indeed the most efficient and handy tool to help achieve the same goal.

“Wait wait wait. Give me some time to think. Surely we don’t have to…” Garreth turns away from the carriage and starts massaging his aching glabella. The idea of using such an expensive carriage sounds intriguing, but the possible punishment he’s going to receive from his aunt is also terrifying…

With one leg already stepping on the carriage, Sebastian yells, “There is no better way. Trust me.”

No response. He doesn’t really understand why it takes the ginger head so long to agree with the idea.

Finally, after some anxious pacing, he turns around and sprints towards the carriage with a kind of anxious determination on his face. “Okay, okay. Just make sure we’re going to get things done quickly.”

Sebastian watches him load the carriage at light speed and a strange kind of satisfaction fills his chest. He grins smugly, excited to have coerced the Gryffindor to jump over a hurdle.

Taking the leash in his hands, he leans into the nervous ginger who’s sitting stiffly by his side. “It’s gonna be fine. If anyone asks, just say Sallow forced you on the carriage and you have tried your best to stop him.”

“What? No! I’m not gonna do that.” The young lion frowns in shock. What sort of man does his friend think he is!?

Sebastian just turns back to the front and smiles. This one is helpless, but who is he to say that when his chest got warmer with those silly words?

“Hold tight, Weasley.”

He flaps the leash to send the thestrals dashing in the night sky with the carriage behind them. Being pelted by the December night breeze in the face on a speedy carriage is no fun, but the excitement of flying in the sky with everything they have on their back is worth everything.

When the people on the ground are turned as small as dots of ladybugs and the stars start to glow above their heads, Garreth takes in the fantastic night view in his eyes, appalling at what a wonderful idea it is, but why does he feel something is missing?

“My potions!” He exclaimed, suddenly sitting straight again from the relaxed position. “We forgot to go to J. Pippin’s!”

“Next year, Garreth. You got no more galleons left anyway.” His companion replies calmly.

“Right…” He sighs and falls back to the back of the seat. But how come… Oh.

Feeling someone’s eyes on him, the Slytherin looks back. One trying hard not to break out a laugh while the other one is grinning with a knowing smile.

“Am I still granted the privilege of entering the Gryffindor common room after tricking you and lowering your moral standard?” The snake asks jokingly, showing no signs of regret.

“Well,” The young lion drawls with a mischievous smile. “Not when there is only one subject left for my mere amount of concoctions.”

-end-

[gukyi]

in the frosty air | a jjk drabble

summary: two weeks ago you and your roommate slept together. which would be fine, if you knew you both felt the same about each other. but you don’t. and now it’s christmas, and jungkook is still gorgeous and gentle and wonderful and here, and and you don’t really know what to do about that.

{college!au, roommates!au}

pairing: jungkook x reader genre: this is just an angst train tbh, but it has a happy ending! word count: 1.6k warnings: mentions of past alcohol consumption, this centers around everyone’s favorite capitalist holiday, being sad in the wintertime a/n: OHHHHHHHHHH *internet breaks* anyway yeah i’m back baby!!! here’s a little drabble to celebrate because i can’t help myself when it comes to jungkook. love me or we both go down coming soon!

“This Christmas is pretty fucking lame, isn’t it?”

You whip around at the sound of his voice. “Oh, hey. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I figured,” Jungkook chuckles, bending his head down as he crawls through the open window to join you on the fire escape. The temperature is freezing and the wind is stinging your skin, but it didn’t really feel right to be spending tonight inside. “Saw the window open. Thought you might be here.”

“Yeah. I was probably gonna head inside soon, though.” In the hopes that you would be curled up in your bedroom before Jungkook even got home. Seeing him lately has been hard. “How did your final go?”

“It was alright.” You don’t have to keep looking at him to feel Jungkook taking a seat next to you, crossing his legs over each other as he stares out into the city below you. It snowed a few days ago, and the sidewalks are still covered in that dirty slush that always lingers, wet and cold and black from car tires. Just being beside you makes your heart race, makes your chest tighten. “I was pretty stressed out about it, but then I just sort of remembered that I did my best and that was all I could do, you know?”

“That’s good.” You wish you had that mindset. You spend days studying for an exam and once it’s over, you spend days dwelling on all the things you might have gotten wrong. It’s a philosophy you apply to most aspects of your life. Why you did the thing you did. Why doing the thing you did was the worst thing you could have done. How you will recover from it. If you even will. 

Jungkook sighs. You turn to look at him, just briefly, glance at his side figure, and notice he’s wearing nothing but a giant zip-up hoodie. Isn’t he cold? “It doesn’t really feel like Christmas.”

“Yeah.” You don’t have anything else to say to that. It doesn’t. Which is a damn shame, because you and Jungkook spent the entire beginning of this month turning your tiny, two-bedroom apartment into a winter wonderland. You got a tree to put up next to your TV and decorated with the weirdest ornaments you could find. You hung up those dangly white Christmas lights on the balcony of your fire escape, the ones meant to look like icicles dripping from the metal railing. The radio has been playing nothing but Michael Bublé and Mariah Carey. And yet.

It’s not hard to wonder why this Christmas is such shit. Your spring internship fell through a week ago. Your parents rented a lake house and assumed you wouldn’t be coming with. All of your other friends have gone home already. And Jungkook, perhaps the last person in this whole goddamn city you would have wanted to spend time with, you can’t even bear to look at. 

“How did your finals go?” Jungkook asks, trying to keep the conversation going. 

“They were fine.” At least that torture is over. But living with Jungkook, seeing him every day and knowing that what you have done you can never undo--it’s endless. 

There’s silence. It’s like the two of you simultaneously have no idea and know exactly what to say. Like the words are lingering on the tips of your tongues but your lips are sealed shut. Opening them won’t be like a can of worms. It will be a dam, a waterfall of I’m sorrys and What nows. One week ago, in the heat of the night and in the haze of drink after drink, you and Jungkook made the worst mistake two roommates could ever make. 

“Are you going home this break?” You blurt out the words before you can stop yourself. 

Jungkook sighs. “I’m not sure.”

“It’s okay if you want to.” I get it. I’m not sure if I’d want to hang around and see me either. 

He shrugs. “I just haven’t decided yet.”

He knows that you’re staying. The two of you were so looking forward to spending Christmas together. Now look at you. Jungkook was the perfect roommate. Then everything changed. 

“Okay.” He’s probably just trying to figure out a way to let you down easy. 

Next to you, Jungkook rustles a hand through his pocket. “By the way, uh--I just remembered. I got you something.”

You don’t even have time to object before Jungkook is placing a small fabric box into your open palm, resting on your lap. You look down at the item, at the way your hand seems to envelop it. 

“You didn’t have to--”

“I wanted to.” Jungkook is firm in his response. “Besides, I got it a while ago. Figured now is as good a time as any to give it to you.”

There’s not really anything else to do except open it. Carefully, with trembling fingers, you pull off the lid. Inside sits a dainty silver locket resting amongst a pile of folded tissue paper. You gasp, your breath coming out in smoke in the cold winter air. 

“Oh my God, I--”

“I overheard you talking on the phone saying you wanted one,” Jungkook admits sheepishly. “I wanted to give it to you before I forgot.”

Fingers shaking from the cold, you pull the locket from the box. It dangles from its chain, a delicate little thing, barely the size of a fingerprint. Even on this hazy winter evening, it still catches the light.

For the first time tonight, you look up at him. His eyes are a swirling brown, a deep chocolate. They are unreadable. He offers a small, guarded smile your way, lips pink in the chilly air. “Thank you,” you tell him honestly. This is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for you. 

You can’t accept this without returning the favor. Wordlessly, you get up from the fire escape, rushing indoors for a moment as you grab your gift from your bedroom. It’s been sitting in there for at least two weeks now. You hold your hand behind your back as you make your way back to the fire escape, sitting down next to him once more. 

With a small flourish, you reveal your own present. They’re drumsticks. 

“For you,” you tell him, that same small grin on your face. “Since you’re always drumming on everything. Thought you could use something to do that with.”

Jungkook looks positively starstruck. He takes the sticks in his hands, feels the wood with his fingers, tracing over the logo at the bottom. You aren’t very well versed in the world of drum equipment, but your friend in the orchestra told you it was a good brand. 

“Wow, Y/N,” he says, mouth agape. “This is... this is the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever gotten me. Thank you.”

“Always.”

And that’s the truth, isn’t it? No matter what you do, no matter what you say, you will always be there to give Jungkook what he deserves. To make his life just the tiniest bit better. Doing thoughtful things for him has never required effort on your part. There is just a part of you that will do them, because he deserves it. Because he is so gentle, and loving, and kind, and wonderful. 

You sit there for a little while longer, relishing in the brief respite of your gift exchange. It’s softened the ice, warmed the air, broken the tension. Even if only a little. But it’s enough to keep you out here, sitting next to him. It’s enough to keep you from drifting away. 

“I don’t regret that night.”

The words feel like biting wind. 

“What?” You turn to him. 

“I don’t. I’d do it again. A thousand times over.” Jungkook is resolute. He looks at you, eyebrows furrowed in determination. 

“Jungkook, what happened that night--”

“Is something I’ll never forget,” he finishes. “Do you know how fucking long I had been waiting to do that? To hold you? Kiss you? To spend the night with you?”

Each syllable presses deeper into your chest, imprinting themselves on your heart. You stare back at him, too shocked to say anything at all. 

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same,” Jungkook adds on, quickly backtracking. “I sort of... got that message when I woke up that morning and you were gone. But I just wanted you to know that that night didn’t change anything about how I feel about you.”

Jungkook’s got it all wrong. You were the one who fucked up. You were the one whose feelings won’t change. “I thought you were the one who didn’t feel the same.”

Jungkook chuckles, this sad, forced cough. “Are you kidding? I’d do anything to relive that night. You’re my favorite person in this whole world, Y/N.”

If the weather were just a little bit warmer, if the wind wasn’t as dry, perhaps tears would fall. But instead, you blink back at him and it feels at once like your heart weighs a million pounds and nothing at all. “Me too,” you choke out. “I never want to be without you.”

Your fire escape is barely big enough for one person, let alone two, but that doesn’t stop Jungkook from reaching over and pulling you in, pressing a chilly kiss to your frozen lips, the heat of his mouth warming you up from the inside out. It’s cold tonight, yes. But Jungkook makes you feel like it’s summer all year long. 

You smile against his lips. They feel like home. They taste like peppermint lip balm and coffee and ice. 

“Do you want me to stay?” He asks. As if he was even thinking about going home anyway. 

“Yes,” you whisper back. 

It feels a lot more like Christmas now. 

“Then I’ll stay.”

↳ don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback! i missed you guys!

[itsyourchoice-hp]

Year 2: Christmas at the Burrow

Cath climbed the steps to the Owlery, the snow crunching under her feet. There were only two weeks left in the term. In her hand she clutched a letter addressed to her parents, asking if she could spend some of the Christmas holidays at the Weasley’s house. Both Harry and Hermione were going to spend the full break there, and Ron had invited both Cath and Draco to join.

She knew that her parents would definitely say no to staying for the whole break, but Cath hoped that they would be in high spirits when they got her letter and allowed her to spend a few days. Although her parents didn’t talk too much about the Weasleys, she knew that her parents had differing opinions on them.

In general, her father was a part of circles made up of mostly wealthy, Pureblood witches and wizards. Though the Weasleys were a Pureblood family, Father had some strong opinions about Mr. Weasley’s fascination with Muggles and how he treated them as equal to himself. Truthfully, Cath didn’t know enough about Muggles to really form an opinion about them. She had never even met or talked to a Muggle before. Mother didn’t say much on the matter but didn’t seem to disapprove of Cath’s friendships with the Weasleys, or with Hermione, who was a Muggle-born witch.

When Cath opened the door to the Owlery, she saw Harry tying a letter to the claw of his snowy owl, Hedwig. He glanced over, and upon realizing it was Cath, waved. Hedwig hooted at him irritably.

“Alright, alright,” Harry said. He finished tying the letter and then let her take off, soaring out of one of the wide windows. “Hi, Cath.”

“Hello,” she replied, approaching one of the school owls, a small brown one with bright brown eyes. It pecked her finger lightly as she attached the letter to its leg.

“Is that the letter to your parents about Christmas break?” Harry asked.

Cath nodded. “I really hope the owl arrives when they’re in a good mood… especially Father. I hope they let me go…”

“Me too,” Harry replied.

“What are you doing?” Cath asked him.

“Sending a letter to my aunt and uncle that I’m not coming home for break,” Harry said. His face darkened. “Although I doubt they’ll really care.”

Cath felt sorry for Harry. As much as her parents could be difficult at times, at least she had parents who loved her and cared for her. She couldn’t believe the things Harry had said in passing over the year about his aunt and uncle, how he used to sleep in a broom cupboard, that often he would be punished and not be able to eat.

There was silence for a minute as they both left the Owlery and descended the stairs. Cath glanced out at the school grounds, watching the Dementors slowly patrolling. She got that dark feeling she got whenever they were near.

“I wish they’d go away,” Cath remarked.

Harry looked around at the Dementors and nodded in agreement. “Me too. I’m tired of passing out cold every time I’m around them. I don’t know why they affect me so much.”

“You aren’t the only one they affect,” Cath assured him. “I don’t know a single person who could look at one without feeling horrible and terrified.”

“I suppose,” said Harry.

They entered one of the towers, grateful to be indoors. Even the castle, usually cold, was a relief from the chill outside. To the right was the corridor leading towards the classrooms. To the left, the stairway that would take Cath towards the Common Room.

“I’ve got to go,” Harry said to her. “I’m meeting with Professor Lupin about an assignment.”

“Alright,” Cath said, noticing his wand in his back pocket as he turned and walked down the corridor.

Cath began descending the staircase, thinking about the letter she sent. She hated feeling like she was missing out on spending time with her friends during the breaks. Sometimes Cath felt as though she was caught between two worlds; her parents, and her life at Hogwarts.

The staircase beneath her gave a big creaking noise and began to move to another landing. Cath sighed in annoyance. It wouldn’t be too much of a detour, but now she was going to have to through the main floor where the Great Hall and offices were. When the staircase connected, she went down the last few steps and rounded the corner.

To her great surprise, her father was talking in a low voice with Professor Dumbledore, looking very angry. Cath stopped for a moment, partially concealed behind a giant stone statue, and tried to hear what they were saying.

“…endangering the students in such a way is completely unacceptable,” she could hear her father say in an icy cold voice.

“I understand your frustration, Lucius, but I assure you-“

“Frustration? I am not frustrated, Albus. I am livid that my son was injured because of an irresponsible decision made by a professor at this school. I simply will not tolerate this nonsense. I have already brought the issue to the board of governors.”

“I would be happy to sit down with the board and discuss the matter there. But, respectfully, I do not think this corridor is the most suitable place for this conversation,” Dumbledore said calmly.

Cath’s father sighed irritably. “I will send you an owl with the date and time of the meeting,” he said curtly.

“I will await your letter,” Dumbledore replied. “Good day, Lucius.”

Cath could hear Dumbledore’s footsteps coming toward her. Quickly trying to look nonchalant, Cath continued down the corridor.

“Ms. Malfoy! What a coincidence,” Professor Dumbledore said pleasantly as they passed.

“Cathryn,” her father said, still in the same place Dumbledore had just come from.

“What are you doing here?” Cath asked.

Upon closer look, he looked very stressed. As he put on his leather gloves and fastened the buttons on his emerald green winter cloak, he replied, “I’ve been trying to reach Dumbledore for weeks about what happened to Draco. Your mother and I were absolutely horrified to hear that he was so badly injured under the supervision of a professor.”

“He seems to be recovering well,” Cath said, trying to reassure him.

“Regardless, it shouldn’t have happened in the first place,” he replied. “Hippogriffs? In a Third Year class? Ridiculous. That idiot should be sacked, and his beast executed.”

Cath had to bite her tongue, horrified at what her father had just said. “Hagrid didn’t mean to.”

“Whose side are you taking in the matter?” Father snapped. Cath felt silenced, not knowing how to respond. Her Father sighed, knowing his tone had been a bit too harsh. “I’m afraid I have to leave. Your mother and I are very much looking forward to you and Draco coming home for Christmas.”

Cath thought about the letter she had just sent. Did she dare bring it up now? Or should she wait until he was home to receive it? One more look at him made up her mind. “Me too,” she replied.

He placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze before turning in the direction of the entrance. Cath watched him leave, his cloak billowing behind him, and then turned around to get to the Common Room. When she arrived, she sighed in annoyance at the group of students waiting to enter. Sir Cadogan had no doubt changed the password on them again.

“Come on,” Dean Thomas groaned. “You can’t just let us in?”

“And put the noble house of Gryffindor in the face of danger?” Sir Cadogan asked incredulously. “Never. Now take out thy sword and fight me like a real knight!”

“We aren’t living in medieval times anymore!” Seamus exclaimed, exasperated.

“Last I checked it was Flibbertigibbet,” Cath offered, taking a step forward.

“We tried that already,” Pavarti Patil said, crossing her arms against her chest.

“Intruders! All of you,” Sir Cadogan waved his sword at them menacingly, as if he had forgotten he was just a portrait hanging on the wall of an old castle.

“You see us every day! You know we aren’t intruders,” Cath pointed out.

“What’s all the ruckus about?” Percy Weasley said from behind them. He pushed through to get to the front of the line.

“Sir Cadogan changed the password again,” Seamus explained to Percy.

Percy sighed in frustration. “Sir Cadogan,” he said as respectfully as he could. “We had this conversation last week with Professor Dumbledore-”

“Scoundrels! Dogs, all of you!” Sir Cadogan interrupted. “I can see none of you are fit for the task, nor are you brave enough to duel me. Now get back!”

Percy looked so angry a vein was beginning to pop out in his forehead. “I will not have you speak to me that way. I’m Head Boy! I demand you let these students into the Common Room at once.”

“Fine, I’ll let you in…” Sir Cadogan said with a smirk that gave the impression that he was not in fact going to let them in. “If you can tell me who defeated the Wyvern of Wye.”

There were a few exasperated sighs, and Cath worried that steam was going to start escaping Percy’s ears. She had never seen him so cross before; no doubt, he hated having his authority challenged.

“Does anyone know?” Seamus asked the group.

The others shook their heads dejectedly.

Cath suddenly had an idea. It was a long shot, but she might as well try. “Sir Cadogan,” she said, taking a step forward. Maybe if he recognized her from now on he’d let her in… “It was you of course.”

Sir Cadogan didn’t look so much disappointed as he was elated that someone recognized an achievement of his. “Aye, bonnie lass! It was I. It was a dark winter’s night, much like this one… The Wyvern of Wye-”

“Maybe another time,” Dean interrupted, looking expectantly at him.

Sir Cadogan finally gave in, swinging forward with a deep bow.

“Thank Merlin!” Seamus exclaimed.

“Thank goodness you came,” Parvati said gratefully. “I had no idea what he was even talking about.”

“I knew once a Head Boy arrived that he would stop with his ridiculous games,” Percy said from the back of the group. Everyone else ignored him.

“How did you know?” Dean asked.

Cath shrugged. “I just assumed he’d be talking about himself.” She had to admit, she was quite enjoying the attention. She even pretended to act modestly when Dean and Seamus told Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, and George what had happened.

“Brilliant,” he said to Cath, giving her a lopsided grin. “I never would have thought of that.”

“It’s in A Comprehensive History of the Knights of the Round Table: Fifth Edition,” Hermione said as if it were obvious.

“How could I have forgotten,” Fred said sarcastically. “It’s only my favourite book.”

“I wish I had been there to see Percy get put in his place,” Ginny said ruefully.

Fred and George stood up. “Well, we had best be off…” George said.

“What are the two of you up to?” Hermione asked.

“No good, of course,” Fred replied, winking at her. He had a large piece of very old-looking parchment sticking out of his back trouser pocket, thought Cath doubted that they were going to do any homework.

“Where’s Harry?” Ginny asked, closing her copy of Quidditch Through the Ages and setting it beside her on the couch.

“Meeting Professor Lupin,” Cath answered.

“Did he mention what he was doing with him?” Hermione asked inquisitively.

“Just meeting with him about an assignment,” she replied.

“Doesn’t sound like Harry…” Ron remarked. He was opening a package of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans and held them out to the others.

Cath took a few in her hand and examined them. One was green with brown flecks, while the other was plain light blue. Deciding she had better go with the blue one, she popped it into her mouth and hesitantly bit down on it. Soap flavour. Certainly not the worst, considering there were flavours like earwax, sausage, and troll bogey.

A game of exploding snap started somewhere in the Common Room and Cath jumped up at the chance to play her favourite game. Ginny joined her and they sat down at one of the large study tables with a group of other students including Dean and Seamus and Colin Creevey and Alice Stone, both in their year.

***

The fall term was almost at a close, and Cath was still waiting for a reply from her parents about spending part of the Christmas break at the Weasleys’ house. It had been almost a week since she had sent her letter, and there were only five days left of school before the students were dismissed for two weeks.

It was a Sunday afternoon and the grounds were now completely covered in snow. There was not a single could in the sky that day, causing the white snow to sparkle and catch in the light. That morning Hermione and Ron had left for Hogsmeade, sent along with a list of things Cath, Ginny, and Harry wanted them to purchase for them.

Christmas time at Hogwarts was definitely one of Cath’s favourite times at school. In the girls’ dormitory was a huge window with a cushioned window seat. She and Ginny were curled up on it with a mug of hot chocolate, looking outside and soaking in the warmth of the sun.

Far down below Gryffindor tower, Cath could see Hagrid making his way from the edge of the forest toward the castle, dragging a pine tree in each hand through the snow. He left a long, snaking path behind him.

“Do you remember what happened to my brother in Hagrid’s class a while ago?” Cath asked Ginny, remembering the conversation she had had with her father when he was talking with Professor Dumbledore two weeks ago.

Ginny nodded, taking a sip of hot chocolate. “Has he recovered yet?” Cath could hear a trace of sarcasm in her voice.

“Oh, he’s fine,” Cath waved her hand dismissively. “The only thing is, my father was here a few weeks ago talking to Professor Dumbledore. I overheard them in the corridor. He was really upset about what happened and wanted to take some sort of action.”

“What kind of action?” Ginny asked, looking concerned.

Cath shrugged. “I’m not totally sure… he did mention wanting Hagrid to be fired though.”

“That’s not fair!” Ginny remarked. “It wasn’t Hagrid’s fault. Harry said Draco didn’t follow the instructions properly.”

“I know, I don’t think Hagrid is at fault either. I’m going to try my best to convince my father that it was just an accident,” Cath agreed with her before adding darkly, “Though I’m not sure I’ll have much luck, Draco being his favourite child and all.”

Ginny chuckled. “That can’t be true.”

“He doesn’t even try to hide it!”

“C’mon Cath, you don’t think your own father would actually pick a favourite child. He probably just gets on better with Draco because he’s a boy,” Ginny reasoned.

Cath sighed. “Maybe you’re right.” She blew gently on the surface of her hot chocolate before taking a sip, not wanting to burn her tongue. She licked whipped cream from the corners of her lips.

“Anyways, have you heard back from your parents about staying with us during the break?” Ginny asked, crossing her legs in front of her.

“Not yet,” Cath replied dejectedly. “If I don’t get anything back tomorrow, I’ll send another letter. I don’t see why they wouldn’t want me to go. Christmas at our house is so boring anyway.”

“They have to let you come,” Ginny said. “It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

After a while more of people watching and drinking hot chocolate, Ginny and Cath decided to wander down to the Great Hall to have lunch with some of the other girls in their year. Cath expected to see Harry down there since he hadn’t been able to attend Hogsmeade outings, but he was not in the Common Room or in the Great Hall.

Hagrid had set up the Christmas trees in the entrance hall and was now going to get two more. Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall were using charms and transfiguration to decorate each in Hogwarts house colours.

Unfortunately for Cath, she did not receive a letter from her parents the next day, and despite the several other letters she sent after, much to the chagrin of the owl she kept fastening letters to, did not receive a response until the day before the end of the term.

All it said was:

Cathryn,

We will talk about this when you return home.

***

Cath and Draco pushed their trolleys with their friends through the crowded Platform 9 3/4 and waited in the queue that was forming to exit to Platform 9. All of them were dressed in their warm winter clothes and were chatting excitedly about Christmas.

Cath couldn’t help but feel jealous that all of them were going to be spending the whole two weeks together having fun. She hated the feeling of missing out and wondered if Draco had tried to ask their parents or if he even wanted to join them.

“I think Father and I are going to catch a Quidditch game or two over the break,” Draco was drawling to Hermione.

“What team?” Ron interjected, immediately fascinated by the topic of conversation.

“Puddlemere United, of course,” Draco replied. “We have season passes.”

Cath felt embarrassed by his constant bragging as Ron’s face was overcome with jealousy. She didn’t know why Hermione seemed to find him so interesting.

“That sounds really enjoyable,” she replied. “I’ve never seen a regional team play before. Only our Hogwarts teams.”

“You haven’t?” Draco asked incredulously. “You have to come sometime.”

“There are Mum and Dad,” Ginny said, gesturing to where Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were standing, making conversation with another family. She turned back to Cath and Draco. “Let us know if your parents decide you can come.”

“I hope you can,” Hermione said. “It’s always so much fun at the Burrow.”

“I’ll talk them into it,” Cath said confidently, determined not to miss out on the fun.

“Come, Cathryn,” Draco said. “Mother and Father will be waiting for us.”

They said their goodbyes quickly before Cath and Draco continued to push their trolleys down the narrow corridors of the underground system. Their parents normally met them outside King’s Cross station, where they would help with their luggage and walk over to a store in Diagon Alley and use the Floo network to return home to Wiltshire.

“Did you ask about going to the Burrow?” Cath asked Draco.

“I tried sending a letter, but they never responded,” Draco said. “They probably prefer we stay at home during the break. They hardly get to see us during the year as it is.”

“I suppose…” Cath trailed off. “Do you think they don’t want us to go?”

Draco shrugged uncomfortably, causing Cath to think that he probably thought so. “Just drop it,” he said. “We’ll have a perfectly fine Christmas at home.”

Cath didn’t say anything else, but she certainly wasn’t going to drop it.

Just like always, their parents were waiting for them at the grand entrance of King’s Cross station. It was strange to see them without their regular clothes, but Cath knew that Muggles would be suspicious if they saw people wearing cloaks and robes or pointed hats.

Both their parents greeted them with a smile and helped them with their luggage. Between the four of them, they could carry everything. After returning the trolleys, they made their way outside, where snow was falling gently from the sky. The streets of London were decorated for Christmas, and as they entered Diagon Alley, the streetlights and storefronts were as well.

At last, the Malfoys made it back home. When Cath landed in the fireplace of Malfoy Manor, she couldn’t deny that it felt like home. She stepped out into the sitting room, making sure to dust off her feet before walking through and bringing her things up into her room.

Cath’s bedroom was large but fairly simple. The walls were painted an eggshell white. Against the wall opposite the door was her bed, a four-poster with a sage green bedspread and a beige throw blanket. On either side of her bed were two tall windows that let in the afternoon sun.

A large pine wardrobe sat against the wall to the left of the door. To the right was her small bathroom. The side of the room on which the door was, sat a small desk with a stack of books on it. Cath’s favorite part of her bedroom was the large wicker chair that hung from the ceiling. It was large enough that she could curl up on it and comfortable enough that she occasionally fell asleep while working on homework.

The curtains of her four-poster bed were white and billowy. It was so quiet; Cath had gotten used to sharing a dormitory with the seven other girls in her year. Though she did like her room here, it didn’t feel as warm as the Gryffindor dormitories, and Malfoy Manor as a whole lacked the coziness and charm of Gryffindor Tower.

Cath didn’t bother unpacking. Instead, she set her trunk on the ground and picked a book out of the small stack on her desk. Her mom had bought her a set of novels by a well-known witch for her tenth birthday. Cath had tried and tried countless times to read them, but teen romance novels were not exactly her speed.

The book she had selected from the series was called Meet Me at the Clock Tower. The cover showed a young couple kissing under the clock tower in Diagon Alley, a famous magical landmark. Two bookmarks peeking out about a quarter of the way and halfway through told Cath she had attempted to start this one several times.

From down the hall, she could hear Draco and her parents come up the stairs, presumably to drop off the remaining luggage. Cath flung the book onto her bed and looked out of her doorway. This was her chance to interrogate her parents about why they didn’t want her staying at the Burrow during the winter break.

Her mother walked towards Cath’s room with her other things. When she saw the book lying on Cath’s bed she smiled. “Reading those again? Don’t you think it’s time for some new books?”

Cath forced a smile. “Yeah… I suppose so.”

Her mother pushed her long hair over her shoulder and put Cath’s trunk on the bed. Cath opened her mouth but then hesitated. Before her mother left the room, she said, “Mother, I was just wondering if you and Father had given any more thought about… you know, going to the Weasley’s for a bit?”

Her mother stopped in the doorway, gave a small sigh, and then turned around. This time, her smile looked rather forced. “Darling, don’t you see your friends every day at school?”

Cath was beginning to feel very annoyed at this point. She just wanted a straight answer. “Why can’t I go? All of my friends will be there. I really don’t want to miss out!”

“You know, why don’t you try making some other friends? It’s nice to branch out a little bit, isn’t it darling?” Mother said, that fake smile still plastered on her face.

“But why?” Cath asked. She didn’t mean to, but her voice was beginning to rise.

“There are some things that you won’t fully understand until you’re older, you see. Your father and I both agree that… perhaps you should spend time with other people too,” Mother tried to explain, keeping her voice calm and in control.

Tears sprung to Cath’s eyes. She tended to cry when she felt angry. Perhaps it was time to try a different approach. “Please,” she pleaded, trying to use the tears to her advantage. “Please, mother, I just want to go for a few days.”

Her mother automatically put a hand on her shoulder to comfort Cath. Her sympathetic eyes told Cath that she was giving in. “I’ll… talk to your father,” she said, defeated.

“Oh, thank you!” Cath exclaimed, hugging her mother tightly.

She smoothed Cath’s hair before turning around to leave. Feeling satisfied, Cath jumped onto her bed, sinking into the soft feather mattress. Her mother was far easier to win over than her father.

A moment later, she heard someone else enter her room. Cath looked up and saw Draco leaning against her door frame, arms folded across his chest.

“That was a nice little show you put on there,” Draco said.

“I did it for both of us,” Cath said as if that were supposed to somehow justify it.

“Mother could never say no to you…” Draco said, looking slightly bitter as he said it.

“Well, good thing you have Father,” Cath retorted. “You know, it would help if you could ask him about staying at the Burrow.”

Draco shrugged, looking down. “Maybe.”

“Why have you been acting like that?” Cath asked, sitting up.

“Like what?” Draco asked defensively.

“You know,” Cath said. “Sometimes you’re all over Harry, Ron, and Hermione, and sometimes you avoid them. I don’t get it.”

She could tell she was right; Draco frowned and dropped his arms to his sides. “Whatever, Cath.”

“Ask Father!” she called after him as he turned and went back to his room. Cath lay back down, staring up at the covering of her four-poster. She was already bored. Her friends were no doubt having the time of their lives at the Burrow… probably playing games, eating treats, having snowball fights…

Cath drifted off into a light sleep. She had no idea how long she had slept for when she awoke to Draco hitting her with a pillow.

“Draco!” she groaned.

“Supper is ready,” he said, tossing the pillow back on her bead.

Cath sat up and gathered her hair into a tail and changed into some more comfortable lounge clothes. Their house always seemed so cold, no matter how much Cath bundled up. Her footsteps echoed on the hardwood floor as she made her way across the hall and down the long, curved staircase to the first floor.

She breathed in the smell of food wafting from the kitchen, catching hints of thyme and red wine. Her parents and Draco were already seated, and their House Elves were sending platters of food floating over to the dining table.

Cath always thought their dining table was far too long. It seated at least twelve people and looked rather silly with just the four of them taking up the end. Above their heads was a grand chandelier that had been in the Malfoy family for centuries, according to her father. The teardrop-shaped crystals reflected the flickering candlelight.

On the table was roast beef with carrots and potatoes, and a loaf of steaming hot bread wrapped in a cloth to keep warm. The smell made Cath realize just how hungry she was. Her parents sipped dark red wine from antique goblets.

Her father cleared his throat and Draco and Cath both looked up at them. Meals were more or less void of conversation, so whatever their father was about to say must be important.

“Your mother and I have decided to allow you to visit the Weasleys,” he said. It sounded as though the sentence was incredibly hard for him to get out.

Cath’s eyes widened in delight.

“For two nights,” he continued. “After Christmas day.”

“Oh, thank you!” Cath exclaimed. “Thank you so much!”

Her father forced a smile and nodded, taking a gulp of wine. Their mother was delicately cutting her carrots and potatoes, glancing over to their father.

Cath could tell that Draco was excited but trying to act nonchalantly as he buttered a slice of bread. She had always looked forward to Christmas, but now she wanted to skip right past it so that she could be with her friends at the Burrow.

***

As predicted, the first week of Christmas break was quiet and rather boring. Cath’s parents had a few families over and made her spend time with their friends’ children while they were over. Draco enjoyed bossing Vincent and Gregory around, but Cath had absolutely nothing in common with Corban and Lysandra Yaxley’s daughter Clara, who was a Second Year in Slytherin house.

Clara was a very pretty girl with blonde hair that fell in neat curls at her collar bone. She was very fair-skinned, which made her full pink lips stand out. Clara was graceful and poised. Her every movement was fluid and precise as if she were a ballerina. She was at least a head taller than Cath, who felt awkward and clumsy compared to her.

Cath didn’t know what to talk about and felt stupid just sitting across from her trying not to stare too much. The two of them attempted to play a rather half-hearted game of wizard’s chess before they both resigned themselves to sitting in silence, awkwardly sipping on tea. Cath’s father seemed particularly disappointed that Cath hadn’t become immediate best friends with Clara and encouraged her to try harder when she was back at school.

It was finally the day after Christmas. Cath had scribbled a quick note to Ginny on the day their parents gave her and Draco permission to stay with them for a few days. At ten o’clock sharp, Cath was in the sitting room holding a bag with everything she needed for two days. Draco came in a few minutes later, followed by their parents.

“Are you sure you don’t want to eat breakfast here?” Mother asked. She smoothed Cath’s hair behind her ears as she often did.

“I’m fine,” Cath said confidently. “Well, bye! Thanks again for letting us go.” She hugged both of her parents, genuinely grateful.

“Behave yourselves,” Father said.

Without another word, Cath stepped into the grand fireplace, took a handful of Floo powder, and said confidently, “The Burrow!”

She squeezed her eyes shut as she began to shoot away, keeping her arms close to herself and trying to remain as still as possible so she didn’t end up in someone else’s fireplace. Moments later, her feet landed on solid ground and she stumbled out of the hearth into a small, cramped sitting room.

Cath looked around. She felt as though she were in the most comforting, warm home. Compared to hers, where everything seemed cold and quiet, the Burrow was colorful, warm, and alive. A charmed feather duster glided around, and knitted blankets seemed to cover every sofa and piece of furniture. In the corner to her left was a huge Christmas tree, decorated with a variety of ornaments, including pictures of the Weasley children. The walls were a warm yellow, and on one was a massive clock with many hands, one for each member of the family. All of the arrows but two, who Cath had never met, were pointed at “Home.”

The kitchen was in view, and Cath saw the dishes being washed by themselves, as well as a washcloth wiping surfaces. She could hear muffled voices from upstairs. Cath walked tentatively towards the staircase. She looked up and saw that it looked as though different stories were added to the house at different times; all of the landings were uneven and differently shaped.

She heard a poof from behind her and heard Draco approach her. He looked around with a rather unpleasant look on his face.

“They must be very poor,” he remarked.

Cath felt angry and protective, but before she had the chance to respond, she heard footsteps above her. She looked up and saw Ginny standing at the top of one of the landings.

“Cath! You’re here!” she exclaimed.

“Who’s here?” said someone from about three floors up. Fred and George came into view. “Oh! Hello, Malfoys.”

Hermione burst out of a room and hurried down the stairs. “Oh, I’m so thrilled you both could come!” she exclaimed. She gave both of them a hug, causing Draco’s face to flush slightly. “Did you have a nice Christmas?” she asked.

“It was nice,” Draco replied. He looked a lot more relaxed now.

“Harry, Ron!” Ginny called up the stairs.

The boys came out of a room from the floor above Ginny and saw Cath and Draco. Harry looked incredibly happy. From the little she had heard about his aunt and uncle, Cath was sure that being at the Burrow for Christmas was like heaven.

“Cath, fancy a game of Exploding Snap?” George said, with a look that said he knew she wasn’t going to turn him down.

“Obviously,” she replied.

All of them found a spot in the small living room. While the game was being set up, Cath leaned over to Ginny and asked, “Gin, who are the other two on the clock?”

She pointed to the big clock where Bill and Charlie were away.

“Bill is our oldest brother,” Ginny explained. “He’s five years older than Percy. He works in Egypt as a curse breaker for Gringott’s bank. And Charlie is two years younger than him. He trains dragons in Romania.”

“Are they here?” Cath asked.

Ginny shook her head sadly. “They haven’t been home for Christmas for two years. But we did get to visit Bill in Egypt last summer. Mum always tries to convince them to come home, but they’re having the time of their lives.”

Cath admitted that they both sounded incredibly cool. About halfway into the game, the front door opened, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came in with their arms laden with bags and parcels. They set everything down in the entrance, and Mrs. Weasley waved her wand at all the bags, which began to float into the kitchen and unpack themselves. Carrots, potatoes, onions, celery, apples, and cranberries all washed themselves in the sink while canned and dry goods flew into cupboards and pantries.

“Oh, the Malfoys are here!” Molly exclaimed to Arthur. She came into the living room, stretching her arms out for a hug. Cath, though surprised, received her nearly bone-crushing embrace. Not even Draco could get away. “We’re so thrilled you could join us for a few days. Have you had breakfast? You look hungry.”

“We're fine,” Cath replied politely.

“I’m starving,” Draco said at the exact same time.

“And good heavens, it’s nearly lunchtime! Let me set out some tea and biscuits to hold you over,” she said, hurrying back to the kitchen.

Mr. Weasley stopped her and took off her scarf, coat, and wool hat for her before she went to business. He nodded politely at Cath and Draco as he hung both his and Molly’s outerwear on a coatrack that was already dangerously close to falling over on account of all the jackets and scarfs hanging on its many arms.

“It’s a pleasure to have you,” he said over the noise of the game. “I trust you had a nice Christmas?”

"Very nice, thank you,” Cath replied. “Thank you so much for letting us stay.”

"Of course,” Mr. Weasley smiled. “Any friend of Ron and Ginny’s is a friend of ours.”

Moments later, a fresh pot of tea and some biscuits were making their way to the coffee table. As everyone poured themselves a cup, Cath couldn’t think of a better way to spend Christmas break than with all of her friends in one room.

[youidiotprince]

ALT ER LOVE SERVER GIFT EXCHANGE: FIC SET

happy holidays @soluxogobsc! I’m so sorry for posting this at the last possible second, but I hope you enjoy these fragments of fic for your favorite evak pairings (evak, elu, and davenzi) during the holiday season, each echoing the one before, their love rippling across the parallel universes. you can read them all under the cut.

EVAK

Somehow, without Isak or Even even noticing, the holiday season had crept up on them and nearly passed them by. As soon as they started their winter holidays from their Universities, time lost all meaning to them, and suddenly it was the day before Christmas Eve and they hadn’t purchased a single gift or set out a single decoration. That evening, a bit in a panic, they divided to conquer; Isak hunched over the coffee table to wrap the gifts they’d bought for their friends and family earlier that day, and Even moved between the tree and the open storage boxes of decorations, trying to bring some spirit into their apartment.

Dispersed amongst the boxes were precious tokens of their five Christmases together, the odd bits and trinkets they’d accumulated over time, their shared life together viewed through this one time of year that meant so much to them. Even pulled ornaments for the tree from the boxes. Some were sentimental, like the strip of film Isak had gotten framed as a gift for their second Christmas together, stills from one of the many videos Even had taken of them over the course of their relationship; some were comical, gag gifts given to them by their friends; and some were just traditional, like the angel they would put atop the tree later. When Even found an ornament that Jonas had gifted to them the year before that he had forgotten about, a reindeer lifting its leg to pee like a dog, he turned to Isak, amused, ready to remind him.

“Isak, what is that monstrosity in your hands right now?” Even assumed it was the candle they’d gotten for his mom, since the package seemed vaguely cylindrical in shape, but it was buried in what seemed to be three layers of wrapping paper, all haphazardly crumpled around the object within, a few pieces of tape stuck on to try to pull it all together. Even’s eyes shifted to the three other presents Isak had wrapped in the last hour, each one worse than the last. “What have you done?”

Isak rolled his eyes good-naturedly, but Even cut off his reply. “How did I not know how bad you were at this?”

“I’m not that bad,” Isak tried to defend, but then he looked back to the gifts, the mess before him, and he saw it anew, as if for the first time. “Okay, maybe I’m that bad.”

“You’re absolutely hopeless.” Even’s lips were parted in disbelief, but they quirked up at the corners with amusement.

“Hey,” Isak warned, pretending to be offended. “I usually get help with my gifts for you, and you wrap ours for us. So, it’s honestly kind of your fault for trusting me.”

“Oh, it’s my fault? Really?” Even asked, voice teasing as he stalked towards him. Isak only nodded, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips that he fought to suppress. When Even reached Isak, he crouched in front of where he sat on the couch, their lips only a breath apart. “Are you sure it’s not just a little bit your fault for not disclosing your lack of gift wrapping ability?”

Isak shook his head slowly, brushing his nose against Even’s, raising his chin just a bit to look down at him.

“My bad, then. How can I make up for my grave mistake?”

Isak leaned into Even, closing the bit of space between their lips as the tension between them reached its peak. It was a short kiss, to both of their dismay, a quick treat before they got back to more pressing matters.

When Isak pulled away, he answered Even’s previous question by motioning to the supplies around him. “You can start by taking care of all of this.”

“We’re going to be up all night.” Even’s eyes drifted to the pile of unwrapped gifts next to Isak that he’d yet to even touch. Isak’s did the same. The clock was ticking, but when he looked back at Isak, whose eyes crinkled in the corners with his lingering smile, he couldn’t bring himself to dive back into it yet. The presents and decorations would be there in the morning. “Do you want hot chocolate? Let’s take a hot chocolate break.”

ELU

The first thing Eliott did when he woke up on Christmas morning was make hot chocolate, one for him and one for Lucas. He stirred the warm liquid with a candy cane and topped them both off with a big dollop of whipped cream. Mugs in hand, he bounded back into his bedroom, where Lucas still lay, duvet pulled up to his chin as his shoulders rose and fell in that slow, steady rhythm of sleep he knew so well.

“Lucas, wake up, it’s Christmas.” He set the mugs on the bedside table so he could shake Lucas awake.

“What?” The sound was thick with sleep and confusion, more groan than word.

“It’s Christmas! I’m bringing you hot chocolate in bed, and it’s Christmas!” Eliott sat on the edge of Lucas’s side of the bed, turning to coax him out of his sleep. He tangled his fingers in Lucas’s mess of hair and ruffled it. “Wake up.”

“Eliott, it’s too early,” Lucas grumbled, fighting to pull the duvet up even higher.

“It’s not even that early.”

“It is,” Lucas said grumpily, covering his face with his hands since the duvet wouldn’t budge from under Eliott. “Why don’t you come back to bed?”

“No, I left you a present under our little tree. Don’t you want to open your present?” Lucas had also left him a present under the tree, and maybe, just a little part of Eliott was so antsy for Lucas to wake up so that he could open his gift from Lucas. The anticipation had been killing him ever since Lucas kicked him out of the bedroom the night before so he could wrap it. Eliott liked surprises, both giving them and receiving them, but that didn’t mean he had the patience for them.

“The only present I want right now is more sleep.”

Eliott didn’t have to see Lucas’s face to know the exact pout he was sporting at that moment; it was one he knew well, the one Lucas used every time he didn’t actually mean it.

“You leave me no choice, Lucas,” Eliott said, sounding as if he really did regret what he would have to do. Because Lucas’s hands were still hiding his face and shielding his eyes, it was all too easy for Eliott to jump up from the bed and take the warm, cozy duvet with him. Lucas’s hands flew from his face to follow the blanket, trying desperately to grab onto it before it was out of reach, but the lingering sleep made his limbs too slow.

“Eliott,” Lucas whined, but he was finally wide awake and he was laughing despite himself. “Okay, but at least let me drink my hot chocolate in the comfort of my bed.”

Eliott gave in and dropped the blanket back over Lucas’s legs as Lucas reached for the decadent mug and cradled it to his chest. Eliott sat back down where he had been before and watched Lucas raise the drink to his lips, holding his gaze over the top of the mug. When he pulled it away from his mouth, there was a white line of whipped cream above his lip. It was too adorable and endearing for Eliott to resist, so he leaned over Lucas and pressed his lips to his, enjoying the sticky sweetness of this kiss. Lucas put the mug back on the table before sliding back down into the bed so he was lying flat, pulling Eliott with him. There was a fleeting moment in which Lucas thought he had won, that Eliott would come back to bed after all, but before he could properly process that thought in his love drunk haze, Eliott was pulling away, was standing up, was grabbing Lucas’s hands and dragging him along with him.

“Not yet,” was all Eliott said before he walked out to the living room of their apartment, Lucas begrudgingly following after one last exasperated sigh.

DAVENZI

“David, no,” Matteo grumbled with an exaggerated sigh as he tried to resist David tugging him to his feet to follow him to the kitchen. David’s sister had spent the entire afternoon baking cookies, and she wanted the boys to help her decorate them. David couldn’t say no to her, but grumpy Matteo, who had only gotten more and more comfortable around David’s sister, didn’t seem to have the same problem. So far, asking nicely and using sheer force had not been working, so David made one last attempt to motivate him.

“Why don’t you want to? Are you scared your cookies won’t compare to mine?” David taunted, hoping to strike Matteo’s playful competitive nerve.

“Please,” Matteo huffed, feigning indifference, but David noticed the way he sat up a bit more, like maybe he was giving in.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed that I’m better than you.” David leaned closer to Matteo, raising his eyebrows in a challenge.

Matteo squinted one eye at him before leaning forward too, meeting him in the middle. “How are we doing this then?”

“We’ll each decorate a batch, and then my sister can be the judge?” David offered, pulling away to consider.

“Won’t she be a bit biased? Is that really fair?”

“If anything, she’ll be biased towards you.”

“Oh, good, sounds fair then,” Matteo said, smug. “Let’s go.”

“There you guys are,” Laura said, turning at the sound of their continued teasing. As always, she was listening to music as she cooked, singing along to some traditional Christmas songs this time. “I was starting to get worried.”

Matteo sat on the kitchen stool and rested his head on David’s shoulder as David filled Laura in on their little competition and her role as the judge. She adored the idea, mostly relieved that she wouldn’t have to do the decorating alone after all. She had already mixed a few colors of frosting and put them into frosting piping bags, and she’d also laid out a few different kinds of sprinkles. David and Matteo each set a tray of cooled cookies in front of them, but didn’t start decorating right away.

“Should we start?” David asked. Matteo shrugged as Laura said they should, and so they did.

There was only one piping bag for each color of frosting, and somehow one of them always needed the color the other was currently using, which led to bickering and attempts to steal the bag from the other’s hands, followed by fits of laughter as the commotion would cause the other to mess up, squeeze too much out at once or miss the cookie entirely. The efforts to sabotage only increased as they finished more and more cookies, “accidental” shoves or elbows to the ribs turning to blatant attempts to throw the other person off when they were working on more intricate details.

Once, without thinking, Matteo smashed his hand onto one of David’s already decorated cookies, which successfully rendered the cookie useless in the competition, but it covered his palm in red and green icing, which David thought was the funniest thing until Matteo smeared said palm across David’s cheek, leaving bold streaks of color there. When David made a move to grab one of Matteo’s cookies, no doubt to smush it on his face in return, Laura saw the impending food fight and intervened.

“Okay, okay!” she called, reaching in between them. “Time!”

“What do you mean? This wasn’t timed,” Matteo said, but Laura just shrugged.

“I’m the judge. Time’s up.”

Matteo and David surveyed the damage, and they hardly had one decent cookie between the two of them. There was no way Laura could pick an honest winner.

Still, after a few seconds of examining the trays, Laura decided, “Matteo is the winner.”

“But he cheated,” David countered, motioning to his cheek.

Laura laughed and corrected, “You both cheated. You just got the worse end of the consequences.”

“I knew I would win,” Matteo said, beaming.

David pretended to pout, refusing to look at Matteo as he crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly.

“Hey, you have a little something right… there,” Matteo teased, licking his finger and swiping at the frosting on David cheek.

David tried to shrug him off with a yelp before he leveled him with a glare that lacked any real intensity. “You’re not funny.”

“And you’re not so better than me after all.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” And of course he didn’t. This was precisely what he loved about him.

[fortheheavenssake]

PG MM Anon Interpretation Collection - 19

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻PG INTERPRETATION OF MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜

122: Nov 23

MM ANON …… “ it’s not Andrew it’s Meeeee!!”…… “suits is a positive act”🤣🤣……… “ life is like a box of chocolates”…… “Doritos here”……… “I’ll cook a turkey dinner”…… Charles Champion……… “ we’ll have to, in the speech??”…… media vita in Monte sumus…… “something borrowed ,someone’s blue”…… “Christmas’Blue Water,Lottie,”…… “Unicorrrrrns”🦄🦄……… “strictly Party Nanny 🥳”……… “ bit of week old thing, hugs!!”…… “ and a large sherry��…���… “ a large malt

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

November 23/2019

💜💜🍰💐🎂HAPPY BIRTHDAY 🐼🎂💐🍰🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

Riddle #122 1305 hrs CST

“ it’s not Andrew it’s Meeeee!!”

Madam wants attention OF ANY KIND!!! Not one ounce of compassion for what everyone is experiencing, she is most probably seething that her pulling out an old relative PR move didn’t work. She doesn’t care one whit what else is happening, even in a whose best teeth 🦷contest made up by her PR or paper. In fact, she went as far as calling out PA for behaviours he has not even been charged with!!!! Oh Rachel, you’re playing a very very dangerous game here, you’re dancing with the big boys now!!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL THIS IS THE REAL DEAL, NOT DEAL OR NO DEAL, THE. REAL. DEAL!!!Selfish is as selfish does! ALWAYS A NARCISSIST! Just wait Rachel, your turn at all the headlines is coming sooner than you think!

“suits is a positive act”🤣🤣

This is funny/sad. In the interview Prince Andrew, he told the BBC Emily Maitlis, that for a man, to have sex, is a positive act. Well here MM ANON has given us suits is a positive act, obviously in relation to madam’ ‘acting’ on the tv show Suits. Actually hilarious twisting of his words, because her ‘acting’ ability is horrific at worst and intolerable at best!🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂 You’re so cheeky MM ANON!🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂 l must confess l had never heard of that show, but l did try and watch a hallmark movie l think it was, she was terrible, l didn’t last ten minutes! There was a Reitmans tv advert, clothing store here in Canada, and they kept showing this tv commercial and it was so odd. It was an outdoor restaurant and this woman walks in, all the other women stop and stare mumbling softly as she glides through the room, one says to the other, is that… before she can finish the woman turns around and said yes, it’s reitmans and yes it’s me, never giving a name. Every time l saw that it was so weird, l finally figured they were just acting like she was someone. Fast forward a few years, only to find out it was madam😂😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂. I venture to say, most Canadians seeing that tv advert had NO CLUE who she was😂😂😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣!!

“ life is like a box of chocolates”

Believe it or not, l have never seen Forrest Gump? But, l definitely know that line, it means simply thus when you open a box of chocolates, variety box not all the same flavour😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣, and you don’t cheat and look at the paper🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂, you never know what flavour you will get. So it’s like life, you start each day , not know exactly what will happen. It’s a great metaphor for taking life as it comes.

“Doritos here”

The way this is phrased, reminds me of the guy at baseball games selling popcorn, he yells popcorn here! Get your popcorn here!😂😂😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂Doritos are triangular or actually various shaped spicy crisps, often dipped with salsa.Madam’s mother seems to have acquired that nickname online. So mama is coming to the U.K. or is already there for Thanksgiving. Yes, l will believe it when l see it!! Likely not even then because every stinking photograph is PHOTOSHOPPED FUZZY BLACK AND WHITE NONSENSE!!😂😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤬

“I’ll cook a turkey dinner”

Sounds like madam, the writer and mastermind, and likely receiver of a portion or fee for her service in a certain cookbook. Yes, the master of wine and all things foodie will cook a turkey🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂. Good luck with that, yes sir, l need a 20 kg bird, how many people you ask, oh just me and archificial, yes he has all his teeth and this year he will slice the 🦃!😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣 By the way , do l have great teeth?? 😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣 l don’t know madam, l just sell the turkeys 🦃😂😂😂😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣!

Charles Champion

Charles has many causes to Champion, however he and a Camilla are due back from their tour, he was in a India, she joined him for Australia and New Zealand. The tour was successful however almost complete overshadowed by events on the home front, politically debates and family issues. He was extremely pleased to share the Princes Trust going global. He really has done extremely well and he is never bragging about it. He’s so quietly gentle, love him.

However, l do believe this refers to the ongoing jostling for power THAT pushed out Lord Geidt several year ago, until HMTQ asked for his return in March of this year. From overseas phone conversations , it was between HMTQ and Prince Charles the decision was made to give Prince Andrew his P45 and all that entails, including stripping him of funds from the privy purse and losing his staff. He has since had his Bahrain trip cancelled, dropped from almost every charity and his patronage’s will be reassigned. So, Charles has championed, when all along he has been and is the heir to the throne. I cannot fathom the brother relationship in such aristocracy. It’s all been done for over a thousand years and much much more than this in history.

“ we’ll have to, in the speech??”

Is the speech being referred to, the speech HMTQ will give at the NATO Banquet she is hosting on December 4/2019? What is the discussion here, certainly there is no need to mention Prince Andrew or his family. I think this is madam, explain why she is not there nor Harry, at this point with stories changing every day, sometimes in the same day l don’t have a clue what’s going on. However l am certain that Harry will be with HMTQ at 🎄Christmas!

Or, is this reference to HMTQ annual Christmas address, in my memory that has never been called a speech but that is semantics, so for all intents and purposes it is a speech where she in seated. She talks about all the things that have happened in the past year. It’s usually about 10 - 15 minutes or so. So if that is what is meant by this clue it sounds like mentioning such if the Royal family issues will require mentioning.

media vita in Monte sumus

Sumus hotel Monteplaya , in Malaga del Mar Spain, is an adults allowed no children please and thank you, meaning lots of sex and playing, drinking 🍹 , 💃 dancing. I know from being in Mexico playa means beach, so it’s probably got some amazing sea views and waters. Madam , did a stint in Argentina at the Embassy, arranged by her uncle, Heaven only knows what she did. However, he allegedly left abruptly with some man to go to Spain. There are many lost years after that. Is she there again? Does she have people there she needs to pay off to keep,them quiet? Any and all things are within the realm of possibilities!

HOWEVER!!

Templar Knights of yore as well as a line from Gregorian chant , “media vita in morte sumus“, meaning “in the midst of life we are in death” its morte NOT Monte. Monte in Latin translates to current English as mountain. So in the midst of life there are mountains to overcome. Sumus translates to we are. So in life we are facing mountains to cross, metaphor for great challenges. Gosh MM ANON,l hope you meant Monte and not Morte, but knowing you as I do, and the fact it’s capitalized, you meant Monte! My goodness, truer words were never spoken because HMTQ has a massive mountain to climb or face now, at this point in her life. Oh my heart aches for her. I was reading that they took down the York flag from Royal Lodge today. This is extremely serious and crushing for all. I hope that they find no evidence. However damage has been swift in coming. Who would have ever thought , at her marvellous Jubilee things would twist and turn as they have, it’s heartbreaking.

“something borrowed ,someone’s blue”

You know the phrase, for a wedding, the bride to have something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue. My heart breaks for the York girls as well. Here we have Princess Beatrice, engaged to be married. They were planning a smaller wedding, but how can they cope. Oh my heart breaks for all of them. I just cannot imagine what any of them are going through, it must seem absolutely surreal. For PA, he is assumed innocent until proven guilty but HE GAS NOT BEEN CHARGED with a thing!! The disaster of the tv interview was the fallout due to public backlash. Just a few days ago and now this, l truly do not know how they will manage to carry on with the wedding. Dearie me,my hearts just breaks for them all. Fergie as well, one daughter happily married, the next found love and now, thinking the tv interview was a good idea never imagining the backlash. She must be reeling, am certain she is there with PA.

“Christmas’Blue Water,Lottie,”“Unicorrrrrns”🦄🦄”strictly Party Nanny 🥳”

Are the Cambridges taking a winter holiday somewhere warm and tropical, with wild 🦄unicorns 🦄 roaming the island?🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂 Clear blue Caribbean water, perhaps Mustique again? Oh THAT sounds great! I have a feeling here that little Prince Charlotte wants every unicorn 🦄 on the planet for Christmas from Santa Claus! The use of the word Strictly, makes me thing of Strictly Come Ballroom, the 💃 dancing show. Since Nanny is Spanish, l am certain she knows the latin dances well and in addition to teaching the children Spanish, she very likely is teaching them dancing too, even if she’s just playing.

If a winter destination holiday on the calendar, this means Nanny comes too, excitement all around.

“ bit of week old thing, hugs!!”“ and a large sherry”“ a large malt

HMTQ and PP are spending time together. I am thinking she is visiting him at his ‘farm’ not him at Windsor because he has been unwell, likely with the flu or chest cold that seems to be making the rounds there. I see them in his room, nice big bed, cozy blankets, he is sitting up, nice warm sweater/jumper on, for some reason l posture it in the finest grey wool. HMTQ seated next to him on the most beautiful chair you have ever seen. Ancient but comfortable in the finest of wood, and beautiful red velvet fabric, a fire crackling in the fireplace. Curtains open, with windows open just a crack fir the tiniest bit of fresh air. Quietness fills the room as they both, after 72 years of marriage, celebrated or rather was this week but nary a celebration to be had. Looking at one another as the past 72 years roll by to taking them to the present dats. Tears in both their eyes. He looks at her and say, but if a week old thing, then says hugs because he isn’t comfortable and doesn’t dare want to give her his cold. A foot man arrives after the cord has been pulled. They ask fir a large sherry for HMTQ and a large Malt for himself. They will toast one another and quietly sharing time together drinking and remembering, also full of the pain of the occurring of the present day. Tears now rolling down both faces………..my heart is truly broken for them…….

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

1510 hrs CST

Thank you so much dear PG! A fascinating read once again. Love your stories….much appreciated! 😊💜💜💜💜💜💜

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123: Nov 25

MM ANON …… a homecoming hiatus …… Top of the Pops👑👑…… “ And when they were only half way up”……… “ it’s going to be a PA tabloid tsunami”…… 🎼”potato,patarto, lets call the whole thing off”🎼……… “just take the bloody photo”……… “a horrified positive Pratt”…… 🎼” iiiiim’putin on my top hat”🎼……… Kate’ “I do everything he dose, only backwards and in six inch heels, and with three children”…… “ I trust in William old thing”…… “Sir!! focus,a century is demanded!”…………… 🎼”pictures of Lily”🎼

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

November 24/2019 2300 hrs CST Riddle #122

a homecoming hiatus

Prince Charles has been on a long tour whilst the home fire are quite literally burning!! He has three days in the Solomon Islands and give or take a time zone he will be back in London mid week or so. However, he has been involved in the very critical decisions that have been made as has HMTQ and William. When he returns , there will be a readjustment to the new situation but l can’t see any hiatus, or time off, for him at all.

Top of the Pops👑👑

Top of the pops, was and maybe still is, the top pop songs of the week. I read an article that after the Duchy documentary people have grown in their valuation, respect and love for Charles, so much that he is top Royal, that would include Camilla who has been at his side fulfilling her duty to no fault! His decision making now and the documentary, he shall be well ready and the public ready for him to continue to increase his royal duties lessening the load on HMTQ and further preparing him for his future as a King, when the time comes.

“ And when they were only half way up”

The old song The Grand old a Duke of York he had 10,00 men when they were halfway up the hill they came back down again!

MM ANON you are truly in my wheelhouse of knowledge today! THANK YOU!! The Duke of York is PA, he has had everything but his HRH pulled, even his flag no longer flies at Royal Lodge😞. With nary a legal charge, all based on a photo, an accusation and that interview which l am sure he is regretting terribly! I pray for them all!

“ it’s going to be a PA tabloid tsunami”

GM is set to speak openly with law authorities or so it is said in the papers. She has ALL the information on everything AND everybody!! She is close friends with PA, and it has also been said she is very protective of him. In early June, she and four others, unidentified, met at BP with PA for several hours. Contents of meeting unknown but that has not stopped speculation! It has already been a tabloid tsunami for PA AND his family dragged into it! What will happen when Charles is back?, GM spills all she knows and PA speaks with French and American agencies investigating JE? Sounds like lots more to come! Hopefully there will be complete exoneration!

🎼”potato,patarto, lets call the whole thing off”🎼

Another great song this time the AMAZING Gershwin brothers, George music, Ira lyrics, OH MM ANON YOU ARE RIGHT IN MY SWEET SPOT OF FILM AND MUSIC! ENDLESS THANKS!! Anyhow enough of me, rumours are swirling that Beatrice and Edo’s wedding is off. I have not seen or heard ANY confirmation of this, thus far it’s more gossip to hurt our dear Beatrice l oh how my heart aches for all of them!!

“just take the bloody photo”

I wonder if this is the official photo of HMTQ and PP for their 72Nd wedding anniversary which was last week. It certainly deserves a photo!! You can hear PP saying this, just do it already, not wanting hours of poses!🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂 Love him!💜 This may also be a family photo or the official Christmas photo. Regardless his patience has grown thin!! Take the bloody photo!🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂

“a horrified positive Pratt”

To a nurse a positive Pratt’s is not good, without going into details it a sign of blood clot to assess for DVT deep vein thrombosis/blood clot , this is not relevant.

Pratt’s is a very old Gentlemen’s club in London. The kind where historically aristocratic wealthy men could go to smoke cigars, drink and generally connect and spend time. This club goes back to the mid 19th century, l am certain all the Royal men are members at least of a certain age. I imagine amongst this set of gentlemen who have likely seen and done it all, from a time where before social media and when the wealthy were free to do anything, times have seriously changed. I am sure they are all horrified at what is happening within the Royal family just now!!

🎼” iiiiim’putin on my top hat” 🎼 Kate’ “I do everything he dose, only backwards and in six inch heels, and with three children”

This was the saying about MY ABSOLUTE FAVOURITE Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, their films are legendary, dance sequences unparalleled! Bar none! Fool the Fleet, Top Hat, just the epitome! She always said or was it said about her , Fred was amazing dancer/hoofer slang word but it was/is always said Ginger did everything Fred did except backwards and in heels! So who was the better dancer eh? One of Irving Berlin’s most classic songs, LOVE THESE FILMS WHEN MOVIES WERE MOVIES, THE GOLDEN AGE OF HOLLYWOOD 💜💜💜💜. Top Hat, Stepping out……tying up my tie, brushing off my tail, l am COMPELLED TO PUT A LINK IN BECAUSE IF YOU HAVE NEVER SEEN YOU MUST!! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RZOJoV6H2UM

Anyhow this is par excellence reference to the yin and yang that is the beautiful dance that is the relationship of William and Catherine. They have become seamless, classics, seeing float through any and all appearances and appointments despite what’s happening in the background AND having three children!!! With strong personalities!! Louis has such a strong presence as a baby to earn the title boss baby , will be a joy watching him grow up! I can hardly wait for the NATO banquet to see them in them at their finest! They are the future of the Monarchy, absolutely no doubt at all!

“ I trust in William old thing”

William, if the papers are to be believed has been involved and in strongly so in the decisions regarding P45 with PA! He has been slowly becoming more and more into the role which he was born to be. It sounds like there is official support for him to continue and increase his presence in any and all major decision making. They are blessed to have him, as are we all!!! I think back to his meeting with HRC a week or so ago, l would LOVE to have been a fly on the wall!!

HMTQ and PP , having their usual time together, things much more urgent and distressing now, but PP soundly saying that William is a sound, modern and the future of where the ever changing monarchy shall be heading.With William as King , the next century is secured! He is above reproach, solid marriage partner who is beloved and children who are more popular especially given their strong personalities!

“ Sir!! focus,a century is demanded!”

As we all know, a century is 100 years. I wonder if this is ia s discussion , PP is 98, and has been at HMTQ side for longer than she has reigned, 72 years as of last week. In this conversation, LG speaking with PP , PC and PW, discussing the issues of the next century when William will be King, the long term ramifications of decisions made now. There is so much political talk from a certain political party to abolish the Monarchy. Critically important decisions made now, bode well public favour, which greatly helps in keeping the monarchy valued and solidly protected. Again with William to reign as King in the 21st century, with Catherine at his side, the modern monarchy is in excellent hands, above reproach and beloved by the public!

🎼”pictures of Lily”🎼

Oh dearie me thus is a very naughty song, l shall say no more, look it up if you want. HMTQ pet name is Lilibet, but this is NOT ABOUT HER!!! I wonder and strongly suggest this is reference to madam and photos/videos of a very distasteful raunchy nature. Oh please, release the hounds, so to speak, let it all out!!!! The world needs to know the truth!!!

0010 hrs CST November 25/2019

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

Thank you….I love your added details. What fun! Thank you dear PG😊💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Ask Skippy submission

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124: Nov 25

MM ANON ………lay a place for Vlad?…… lovers knot hiding …… Kate ,Melania & Ivanka shine …… nutmeg crashes posh-nosh?…… “ it’s just impeachy’Donald” ……… “ no chance Ma’am”……… “Hows the Dook?”…… “a special Yuletide for a million reasons ,ma’am”…… legalities,Banalities,Calamities …… “2020, I’m an optimist Christopher”…… “less is more, ma’am”

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜

November 25/2019 Riddle #123 1000hrs CST

lay a place for Vlad?

The term, lay a place, is when one sets a table for dinner, you lay a place. Vlad, l am certain is Vladamir Putin, the Russian leader. The NATO leadership will be meeting in London, this is from the official press release, all along l thought the NATO banquet was a December 4/2019 read this “The United Kingdom will host NATO Heads of State and Government in London, on 3-4 December 2019.The NATO Leaders Meeting, chaired by the NATO Secretary General, will take place at the Grove Hotel, Hertfordshire on 4 December 2019. An evening event at Buckingham Palace will take place on 3 December 2019, for which there will be a separate process for media access.

I am not certain if the press had got it wrong or l have had it wrong for quite some time now. Russia is not a NATO member. However back in 2002 they were part of a Russia-NATO council, however that was dissolved when Ukraine was invaded. Is Vladimir Putin going to be in London, meeting with HMTQ, surely not attending any NATO gatherings.

This clue certainly is giving the strong idea that he may be invited to the banquet. My understanding is Russia has wanted the dissolution of NATO however, maybe there are negotiations behind the scenes?? Extremely interesting times we are living in!

lovers knot hiding

Catherine has worn the Lovers Knot Tiara on a number of formal occasions l what does this mean hiding? Where is the tiara?? Is it being refurbished? What tiara shall Catherine wear to the banquet in that case?

I read about that massive billion euro jewel robbery in Germany l think. Oh dearie me, where is the Lovers Knot?

HA HA HA HA I LOVE YOU MM ANON SO SO CHEEKY!!

This is a pair of lovers not/no longer hiding. Madam and MA are well known for years and l have no doubt whatsoever he is the father of archficial, the real one! Oh God please, LET THIS INFORMATION BECOME PUBLIC!!!!

Kate ,Melania & Ivanka shine

Obviously the three women are stunningly beautiful, dressed to the nines, this l and many others are looking forward to at the banquet!

nutmeg crashes posh-nosh?

Oh goodness what is madam getting up to now. Posh meets upper class, nosh means eat/drink. Will she crash the NATO banquet???? Great balls of fire, the world is going completely mad and tilting off of its axis!

“ it’s just impeachy’Donald”

There are impeachment hearings going on in America. The House of Representatives has been interviewing a wide number of people, there will have to be a vote . If there is a vote to impeach it then passes to the Senate. Anyhow, this is a twist on the phrase things are just peachy, meaning everything is sweet in life, going very well, no major problems. President Trump has a lot of heavy stuff going on at home, as he comes to London for the NATO meetings and banquet. It seems that many many people in important positions are under attack, it’s extremely concerning. As a Christian, l read Revelations and it feels like we are at Biblical proportions of world crises. However, l am certain, he will rise above, attend the meetings and of course the NATO Banquet hosted by HMTQ. He does quite respect her, very very much.

“ no chance Ma’am”

I think this is a reassurance that madam will not be allowed to crash the NATO Banquet or any such royal events, I HOPE!!

“Hows the Dook?”

The urban dictionary has a definition for dook , “an individual who is not in his senses and is responding back with non sense and doesn’t make any sense” Is this referring to PP or PA, not the urban dictionary meaning, l mean the clue. Madam took to signing Instagram posts or others things regarding her husband as ‘ The Duke’. Herself is ALWAYS HRH! So is someone enquiring how Harry is?

Or God forbid, is PP that ill?? A number of possibilities here.

“a special Yuletide for a million reasons ,ma’am”legalities,Banalities,Calamities, “2020, I’m an optimist Christopher” “less is more, ma’am”

This is very long drawn out conversation between a very weary Monarch and her most trusted and loyal Chief Lord, Lord Christopher Geidt. They are talking about the years events and her annual address to the United Kingdom and the Commonwealth .LG is reassuring HMTQ that this will be a very special Christmas for a million reasons hmmmmm. Million eh? Who is getting a million? Sounds like madam will be dealt with before Christmas! I know l have said that a number of times, l can only interpret the riddle before me, as it stands.

As HMTQ prepares her annual Christmas message, she touches on the events of the past year. 2019 has thus far presented a multitude of legal issues, pending ones and possibly unknown to the public ones. Madams lawsuit against the DM, Harry’s lawsuit against SPLASH for using drones to photograph the house in the Cotswolds, Harry current lawsuit against the media. PA issues.

Banalities😂😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣, so lacking in originality as to be obvious and boring. Who does this sound like? Endless drone of PR LIES. On and on and on and on, just copies everything. Madam has never had an original thought, idea or facial expression. Banal is the absolute perfect word MM ANON, bang on perfect word to describe madam!

Calamities, well definitely in the Commonwealth there have been mass shooting, violence, weather and political calamities. However on the home front, madam has caused complete disaster since before the day of unhappy people and continues to. PP has been ill, and is aging, out of public life.

But the calamity raging now is PA and all that has happened in the days since the interview. Heaven knows what is yet to come. I hope to God madam gets death with, and begins to face justice and out of their world!!

HMTQ, clearly has her eye on 2020 , and is certain it will be much better than 2019, love the way she says it, it just shows the closeness of their long standing trusting relationship. His final advice is, less is more, how true is that eh? Often we go into great elaborative detail(OH DEAR I AM 100% DESCRIBING MYSELF!!), when less information is better then dumping it all onto someone. When someone says hello how are you, they don’t expect an hour of response, although, yet again, with me, yep, you get the full hour, just ask 🐼🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂. So her message to us will be filtered as she deems appropriate.

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

Wonderful! Thank you so much dear PG! Entertaining as always!😊💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

1055 hrs CST

Ask Skippy submission

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125: Nov 26

MM ANON … “ it’s a Mozzi bite …… wed-ding-a-ling …… “my advice ‘ have it in Italy”’…… “ She’s crippled with shame”……… “I saw her with archificial yesterday in Waitrose,“ …… “from Windsor to Winnipeg”. ……… Andy, Charles and Clarence ,……”thanksgiving ‘ darling she went back to LA”…… “ but ,but, but the SOOOOOOPKITCHEN!!! “…… spin ,grin and a bottle of gin…… 🎼”I’m dreaming of a ( WOC) Christmas “🎼……… “Sandringham old thing, fuck the election”. …… “ ones duty first Philip”……… “ don’t mention him”

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

November 26/2019

Riddle #124

1940 hrs CST

“it’s a Mozzi bite …wed-ding-a-ling “

Princess Beatrice is engaged to marry Edo Mozzi Mapelli, son of the Count from Italy. They have known one another for years, the families have as well. They connected at Princess Eugenie’s wedding and have been together since, a whirlwind romance leading to engagement. Gorgeous engagement photos and ring, photos taken by Eugenie in Italy. A mozza bite, is a cheese canapé often served at parties/ weddings.A ding-a-ling makes me think of a very silly song that has very sexual,double entendre. I don’t think that’s fitting here, l think hits referencing wedding bells. So to bite the bullet, take the plunge etc is to make a tough decision, are you in or out? So are the rumours true? Is Edo biting the bullet and no wedding 🔔 bells? Despite the fact is he loves her so much, his son to consider, as well as his families aristocratic status. OR the opposite, he loves her so deeply, his son is apparently, despite his young and tender age is already receiving Royal,training, will bite the bullet, take the plunge and damn the torpedoes, full steam ahead with the wedding. We all know Beatrice was not and did not want a massive royal wedding, according to the papers and friends who have spoken. I really do hope and pray love reigns and wedding 👰🏽 bells 🔔will ding-a-ling🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻.

“my advice ‘ have it in Italy”’“ She’s crippled with shame”

Sounding like discussion between the York’s and those involved with the wedding planning along with Edo and his family. There is so much massive, double positive l recognize my grammar, but l meant it that way!, negative publicity and just publicity of everything the York girls walking makes the papers. The papers l read all had to say Beatrice wore no makeup Edo’s birthday party because she would cry. WHO CARES. Why do that to her?

It really sounds like both girls are devastated but especially since Beatrice is engaged and was written to strongly encourage PA to do the interview, that was in the paper a few days, and Fergie also. Then oh sorry we shall switch it up now, forget the sorry, the papers then say they were both against the interview. I cannot imagine what Beatrice especially is going through. This is meant to be the happiest time in her life. It just crushing and my heart aches for all of them. It sounds like the wedding is very much on, love shall prevail with now exploring the idea of having the wedding in Italy. I know her mum really wanted the wedding in England, however circumstances have changed. Concerns may be about PA leaving England, l would seek legal counsel, because for some reason they are after him more than anyone else.

“I saw her with archficial yesterday in Waitrose,“

Yes, and l saw a Elvis in my backyard with a sasquatch😂😂😂😂🤣🤣. Yet another PR BS story. Trust me, if madam was seen grocery shopping, which she likely never done, with a rubber doll seated in the trolley, there would be a zillion cameras phone photos on every social media platform that exists!🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂🤣🤣

“from Windsor to Winnipeg”.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph, ALL WELCOME HERE FOR CHRISTMAS 🎄 PLENTY OF ROOM IN MY INN. THERE IS NO WAY, NO WAY SHE IS COMIG HERE! OMG! NO. WAY NO HOW NO NO. NO NO NO. NO NO NO NO NO 🤣😂😂🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🥴🥴🥴🥴🤕🤕🤕🤕🤒🤒🤒🤒😮😮😮😮😮😮😧😧😧😧🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬NO NO NO . Am l expressing myself clearly??🤣🤣🤣😂😂🤣🤣

Andy, Charles and Clarence

Charles and Andrew will have a one to one very heated meeting at Clarence House, where the Duke and a Duchess reside and also have their official offices. PC has been on an extended tour, India, New Zealand, Australia, Tuvalu, Solomon Islands, due to return home today. There were volcanic eruptions of things happening on the home front whilst they were away and he had to discuss and make decisions very likely through FaceTime or something similar. He will have a meeting with PA and l am very certain it will be a heated exchange. Will be interesting, if as rumoured, the decision to strip his HRH status, all with no charges. We shall we observers if PC first major incident other than madam in his heir to the monarch status even higher now as HMTQ has handed so much over to him and PW.

“thanksgiving ‘ darling she went back to LA”…… “ but ,but, but the SOOOOOOPKITCHEN!!! “

Will they, won’t they, will she, won’t she on and on and on. Gossip says she has all sorts of meetings set up in L.A. , l 110% believe her exit is very VERY imminent! She is planning for her life after divorce/annulment. So rumours of them going for Thanksgiving, now is it only madam going for six weeks or so? So what about staying in the England and her PR off working in the soup kitchen near Windsor on Thanksgiving day??? Her PR lies, intertwined with all the lies madam has allegedly told all like the old fashioned Christmas lights, you put them away neatly and somehow when you next want to do the tree it takes hours to untangle the lights with a few bad words uttered🤣🤣🤣😂. The young ones her have no idea, trees all prelit now. She has no clue what is awaiting her. The case built by LG and his team,,intel from PT, more intel,from iiiii, at or during the NATO summit, perhaps we shall see worldwide ramifications. By the way, l,took this from MM ANON, that Lady Kinrannoch so brilliantly decoded, iiiii is The Five Eyes of security/intel!

spin ,grin and a bottle of gin

Fergie has red hair, or is a Ginger. She is a full gorgeous ginger freckles and all. So bottle of gin, play on her ginger status and likely having a few G and T’s to chill. There has been soooooooo much PR and newspapers spin on did she no she didn’t, for DAYS about her pushing “my boy” PA to do the interview, then the press or PR changed it to no she didn’t. She has stayed smiling and waving, keeping a positive public face so as to not give the media more fodder, as in the articles repeating over and over that Princess Beatrice wire no makeup to Edo’s party! WHO CARES ABOUT MAKEUP! Steady on Fergie!!

🎼”I’m dreaming of a ( WOC) Christmas “🎼

One of my favourite Christmas films, Bing Crosby singing, l’m dreaming of a white Christmas. MM ANON has a WOC Christmas, women/woman of colour. So is the new PR spin that madam will have Christmas with OW,GK, MO,etc etc etc oh my.my, my, my or will she return to her sisters in SA?

“Sandringham old thing, fuck the election”. …… “ ones duty first Philip” “ don’t mention him”

Thank you MM ANON FOR THIS💜

HMTQ and PP, who by the way is feeling much better and stronger, are sitting together, needing there very much earned alone time. She is her tweed skirt and a lowliest soft grey velvety vest, and silver turtle neck of softest cashmere. PP dressed, smartly but very cozily, he has on the lovelies softest dark grey slippers. Grey is such a beautiful colours in many tones. Television is on low, news of the day, which switches to Strictly, they enjoy the dancing 💃, speaking of the dancing they have done in different places and times. The Ghillies Ball at Balmoral a favourite. Tonight he is having his favourite Boddingtins 🍺 and HMTQ, of course gin and DuBonnet, 🍸.

The election that is nearing May result in parliament sitting over Christmas 🎄. Depending what happens, if new Pm elected HMTQ will have to deliver the speech written by that individual. If that it the care the ceremonial nature will be drastically pared down, as in, no carriage procession, the ceremony inside parliament etc. However, the problem here is this means HMTQ will not have her usual Christmas break at Sandringham as usual. It’s all very disruptive when things are already so skewed.

Well, 🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂, you do not have to ask who said the first line🤣🤣😂. HMTQ harkens back to her duty, which she has lived up to every second of her a Reign and is not about to drop the ball now!

2050hrs CST

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

Wonderful dear PG……she isn’t going to Winnipeg…..I think another royal is….as they do from time to time….love your stories, such fun! Thank you, so appreciate this!😊💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

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126: Nov 27

MM ANON … Archificial carves the Turkey …… Megan BURNS the gravy……Frogmore or LESS… ” Harry PULLS a CRACKER”… Dorito’ where is Dorito??…… An-drew the short straw… Con-sort it out Charles … swimmingly!!🦄🦎 …… “ the general public would lap it up your Highness” …… “ little stars”……… 🎼four and twenty Black-Birds🎼…… “Frozen film party at KP”…… “Darling I’ll cook, how many?”…… “14, no problem!!”…… “a ten pounder”…… “Kate’s cooking old thing”…… “another drink Philip?”… “wait till Christmas Eve !!”

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

November 27/2019 1120 hrs CST Riddle # 125

Archficial carves the Turkey …… Megan BURNS the gravy

Hey MM ANON, l made this exact comment a few days ago🤣🤣😂😂. Yes according to scooby, baby Archie is being weaned at the ripe old age of 25 , doesn’t quite have all his teeth became share denture with madam🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂but his knife skills are unrivalled! Yes, running a blog, where absolutely every single word, idea, photo etc etc etc is lifted, ‘borrowed’ some might say copied, theft,or plagiarism. Aah potato, potahto, same thing all really.

Megan, NOT Meghan, who is Megan burns? I know Megan Burns is an actress, 28 days film anyone seen that? Not my wheelhouse but some like zombies or stuff like that. Give me Fred and Ginger! However, l doubt this is a typo but who really know so, l am going with that. I am certain wherever she is, she is up to something! And likely the idea is lifted🤣🤣😂😂. However, oooooooooohhhhhh, if Catherine wears the emerald tiara at the NATO BANQUET, THE ENTIRE WORLD WILL HEAR A BANSHEE SCREEECHING SO SHRILLY WINDOWS WILL SHATTER! Madam demanded this for the day of the gathering of unhappy people and HMTQ drew the line there and refused! She will be on fire she will be so mad! In fact, l think just being on holiday/rest time/contained time/ oops did l say that?😮😮😮😮😮🤐🤐🤐🤐. Wherever she is, she has pulled out the last relative card out of the back bottom shelf of her very dark closet. I am sure she is on fire with rage not knowing where Harry is or what he is doing and imagining who he is doing it with😁😁😁😁.

PC has returned, he is now at a new level of strength and confidence in decision making, look at the decisions regarding PA! Imagine, just imagine when her time comes, which l do hope and pray the NATO meeting is the last piece of the puzzle!

Money is sometimes referred to as gravy, especially if it’s an extra amount or a lottery like unexpected . I used to work with a guy who LOVED working holidays, he called them “piece of work gravy shifts” l KID YOU NOT!! Because you got time and a half for working that day and then a whole paid day off in addition. To burn the money literally means spending so much so fast it’s literally smoking. So Megan assuming MM ANON means madam is burning the the gravy, she’s spending money like mad or has done.We know SS and all her PR must have cost her a king’s ransom.

Frogmore or LESS…

Frogmore Cottage was officially designated as the Sussexes official residence and allegedly millions of pounds were spent putting in a yoga room with floating floor, baby room, a Doritos room, soundproofing, the garden etc etc etc. Who knows what really was done. We do know they have never lived there and the long litany of celebrities that says they have visited them there and seen/fed/played with archficial are either clients of SS, backers, or both, or untruthfullish. Madam likely thought she was getting Frogmore House😂😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣 . So here is LESS upper case, confirms for me, that FAR LESS MONEY AND FAR FAR FAR LESS WORK was done in terms of remodelling and refurbishing has been done that what PR has said. There has been no visible major changes to the garden, according to locals, who also say the lights are never on, no cars coming and going. The only signs of life were when the builders were there. Were they even working? Or was that for show as well??

” Harry PULLS a CRACKER”…

We always have crackers at Christmas, somehow, whenever l try to pull mine, mine never snap or making that cracking sound🤣🤣😫😫, hence why they are called crackers. We all wear the silly hats, read the jokes and lucky numbers and fight over who got the best silly toy. In fact l ordered the box yesterday! I ordered really pretty ones with old fashioned almost Victorian looking Santa Claus and other pictures on the outside quite lovely. In America, the word cracker has a whole entirely different meaning, it’s a racist White person, l don’t think this is MM ANON’s meaning. To pull can literally mean pull or tug however, it can mean being lucky romantically or more😚wink wink. Sooooo what has Harry been doing to rest and recover from his two year tour l’d duty! Maybe he got the best toy and hat in his cracker😁😁😁😁😁😁 I shall not speculate any further! LOVE YOU HARRY💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

Dorito’ where is Dorito??

Where in the world is Carmen SAN Diego🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂🤣 , kids tv show, along with where is Waldo? Doria has been christened online informally as Dorito. She has been completely off the radar, where is she? Custody?, OW. Witless, oops l meant🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂Witness Protection? Who knows! She sure is not the ever loving supportive “AMAZING”, the word Harry was compelled to say in the official engagement interview. Where is she??? She has an ‘assistant’ to walk her dog apparently unless she too gave her dog(s) away?

An-drew the short straw

When you draw straws, the one with the shortest straw gets to do or rather has to do the task no one wanted to do. So what will Anne have to do? Does this involve seating at the NATO Banquet? What what what does our Anne have the unlucky fortune of having to do?

Con-sort it out Charles

Now that Prince Charles has returned from his extended overseas trip, he has decided to spend first a few days with PP. l think this is very wise to seek the counsel of his father who kept the family in line, as it were, or handled delicate situations that needed handling, PP is not King, he is Consort. Oddly though when Charles or William become Kings, their wives become Queen. So Charles is earnestly and wisely seeking his father countenance, wisdom,advice and support in this terribly difficult time. Excellent decision Sir!

swimmingly!!🦄 🦎

When things are going swimmingly, it means they are going really well. Now the other day, Saturday riddle, l thought the riddle was meaning a winter holiday but blue water was apparently a shopping mall, thanks to a kind anon who commented! Are the children doing well in school? Are they taking swimming lessons and doing well? Are they preparing for a warm holiday after Christmas? Or all of the above? I am excitedly awaiting the Christmas photos of them all, especially little Louis to see how he has grown. Did l ever tell that was my dad’s name too??

“ the general public would lap it up your Highness”“ little stars”

Are the Cambridge children going to do a little video for us for Christmas? Yes yes, and yes please! Little stars as in fame but maybe dressed as little stars in panto. Maybe the school Christmas pageant!!!

🎼four and twenty Black-Birds🎼

Six a song if sixpence, very old children’s rhyme, second rhyme MM ANON has referenced. I am singing 🎤 now🤣🤣🤣😂😂 This is a recitation eh? Baking live birds, when l look back on the lyrics of so called children stories or nursery rhymes from ages ago they often are truly dark and dreary. I hate black birds, like magpies, l am sure you all remember my magpie story l told in a riddle awhile back. Blackbirds are EXTREMELY LOUD! aggressive, eat others birds eggs, babies and even kill ear other birds. So 24 of them,yikes, they swoop at your head to. I think 24 is significant, another clue in this riddle says Just wait till CHRISTMAS EVE!! Upper case two !! Now yes Christ’s birth and church on Christmas Eve is the reason for the season, however something MUCH MUCH SIGNIFICANT TO CURRENT ISSUES, OF COURSE CHRIST IS THE MOST IMPORTANT is either going to happen on the 24 th OR be celebrated!!!! I truly am salivating!!!

“Frozen film party at KP”

Sleepover 2.0 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂. Oh may l come too? I wonder if it’s Frozen 2? The new sequel l mean. This sounds awesome and loud and fun and giggly and everything that is wonderful about a four year old girl!and her friends!!!

“Darling I’ll cook, how many?”…… “14, no problem!!”…… “a ten pounder”…… “

William and Catherine discussing Christmas. The plan had been for them to alternate families each Christmas, doesn’t mean it cannot be Boxing Day. So Catherine knows not just for photo, having lovely children, being a loving wife and mother, looking gorgeous in any and all situations and garb, loyalty, being above reproach etc etc but she is an awesome cook. We even had a pasta recipe of hers here a few weeks ago. So sounds like she is cooking and it will be turkey. The entire Middleton clan adds up to 12, unless you add HMTQ and PP, HARRY. That makes 15. Possibilities, l shall not speculate on.This will prove a very lovely group indeed and absolutely rock solid confidential!!!! THIS HERE. THIS EXCITES ME TO NO END!!!

“Kate’s cooking old thing”…… “another drink Philip?”… “wait till Christmas Eve !!”

PP and HMTQ discussing the Christmas arrangements. No talks of politics intervening in this conversation. It’s rainy, chilly, the fire needs topping up as do they both. The footman arrives almost as the cord is pulled. Refills? He already had them, another Boddingtin 🍺 for himself and gin and DuBonnet 🍸 for HMTQ. Today, she chose a lovely purple sweater, skirt with a lovely purple woven through, he in evening relax dressed and those lovely grey slippers. 72 Christmases married🎄, that’s amazing! They sound pleased as they discuss Catherine cooking the main meal, they will be so glad to see the grandchildren. I wonder shall Catherine cook at Windsor as it would be ever so convenient, church in the forenoon and back home walk or drive after. HMTQ takes the drive, someone usually goes along. Did PP attend last year? I cannot recall, l do recall the last time he attended he walked the walk, so l think it must have been the year before. As they sip on their cocktails, discussing positive plans and things today. Things to look forward too. Things will very soon be done with and madam will be dealt with and out of their life and onto to L.A. or someplace else, who knows. In yesterday’s riddle, the word SOOOOOOP KITCHEN WAS used. I couldn’t get it out of my head. Six zeroes. Is she being paid a million or more, because we do not have a number before the zeroes, unless the upper case S means 5, five, let’s go with that for a minute. Is she being paid five million dollars/pounds/euros for something by someone or is she being led to believe that she is? Something big is going on thoughFOR SURE!!!

Wait till CHRISTMAS EVE!!. All caps, two !! Something big and exciting, besides Santa coming that night of course, is going to be happening! I surely do wonder what that will be!!

That was a beast of a riddle MM ANON

1255 hrs CST

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

Thank you dear PG! I so love your additional storytelling…makes it so much fun! You are greatly appreciated, you lovely ladies…PG and MM Anon!😊💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

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127: Nov 28

MM ANON ……… pencil thin 👀…… 👧👦🏼👶🎡🎢🎠……… maple, leaf it alone ……… 🛩who knows?……… “one has responsibilities Charles”……… “ six weeks’ and they can’t show the bloody baby.”…… “flown out , bloody good job!!”……… send up the menu!! …… very secure ma’am!! ……… all those SS chappies…… “ I hear she’s quiet the English Rose” ……… “ if only!!”……… “good stock, don’t cha’ know”…… DEEP and CRISP and IVAN…… He’ll stop their extravagant travel. ……… “ charades ,old thing”. …” pass the parcel,Philip!!

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON 🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

November 28/2019 Riddle #126

🦃🦃HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO OUR AMERICAN FRIENDS 🦃🦃

1400hrs CST

pencil thin 👀

We do know our Catherine has always been athletic and lithe, but comments are more and more , how thin she has become, this phrase, pencil thin,goes way back to my childhood when people still used pencils🤣🤣🤣😂😂. Who is voicing this comment and should we be concerned. I hate Diana comparisons. Everyone copes with stresses differently however l wouldn’t howl from the rooftops just yet. She’s fine, ore than, stunning, gorgeous, excellent mother, partner and working Royal. She just spent a couple of days working in the maternity. I know she gets terribly ill in her first trimester with each child. Sometimes women get ‘baby fever’. My niece is a maternity nurse,they thought they were done their family with the boys they had. Well baby fever rolled in and thank God it did because they have the sweetest girl God ever made, l love that child more than my own life!

👧👦🏼👶🎡🎢🎠

This looks fun, the Cambridge children at an exposition as we call them in Canada or expo for short. Others call them fairs or amusement parks. Will this be the Christmas video gift we will get to see? Or are they planning a winter holiday? I cannot fathom them at Disney WORKD or Universal, the security would be impossible unless they shut it down for them, but where’s the fun in that? Quite frankly, l enjoyed the video of the riding their bikes. I love seeing them do the ordinary things every child should be able to do.its marvellous, they are a wonderful family. We are so blessed!!

maple, leaf it alone

Oh I most certainly hope this means that no trash blows into our fair country from points east. This surely is a word play, maple, leaf it alone maple leave it alone. The Maple leaf is right centre on our Canadian flag 🇨🇦. Leave the idea of moving to Canada alone, despite MA being Canadian. With madams history and the iiiii, even with our CSIS recent crises, l doubt once that, once she is done with being Royal, she will be anywhere near Canada. Will the issue with the CSIS head of intelligence being charged be discussed officially at the NATO meeting? I am absolutely certain it has been greatly discussed at length by all the Five Eyes member as well as NATO intelligence overall.

🛩who knows?

As much as we know, rather make that we know very little about where she or Harry are, yet madam was reportedly seen a week or more ago at a small airport taking a private jet out of Oxfordshire, destinations unknown, current point unknown, to us, but MI6 will be all over her like a bad rash, she just doesn’t know it. I highly doubt, wherever they are, that they are together.

“one has responsibilities Charles”“ six weeks’ and they can’t show the bloody baby.”

PC , upon his return has been spending a few days at Wood Farm with PP. l am quite certain seeking his counsel as well as spending time together. Voicing continued frustration that in six weeks baby archficial has made nary an appearance during what was meant to be relaxing unscheduled free time, therefore no obstacle at all from baby archficial visiting. Except for a few pesky things, he’s a doll, she was never pregnant, it’s not Harry’s child and the surrogate wants the baby whoever the donors were, all allegedly of course!

Speaking of HMTQ and PC duty, the Firm comes first. Decisions regarding PA had to be made to protect the Firm. Wise counsel as ever from father to som , from Consort and partner of a Queen to the King in waiting who is having evermore responsibilities sent his way.

“flown out , bloody good job!!”send up the menu!! Very secure ma’am!!

I believe madam has been in custody of a sort this entire time, rehab, psychiatric, or both. LG arrives with information that she has been escorted out of the country, or intelligence have facts that reflect she has flown out of the country and that the intel is solid, he says very secure ma’am, meaning the information is secure, madam is secured or both and it’s reason for celebration. Order up a great dinner and some 🍸.LG had arrived with information, while HMTQ and PP have been talking, reassuring HMTQ, that she, is well secured, the information is well secured and the family is well secured. LG will join for dinner, or cocktail at the very least.

all those SS chappies

Each and every SS has been ordered to leave the country and lost their best client from whom they would never get fully paid anyhow! I wonder if, and how many, American, international and U.K. law get broken with PR, if any, l don’t know. However, l do know treason law, and it seems nobody bothered to check laws in a country with a Monarchy. It could well be that a plethora of actions undertaken may just bring about a world of legal trouble for the SS chappies as they are called here. I don’t know, l am voicing questions, perhaps there is a British legal mind reading this that might know.

“ I hear she’s quiet the English Rose”

“ if only!!”……… “good stock, don’t cha’ know”

Can l really say what l think? I believe strongly that Harry has found someone. Now is she a quiet rose, like speaks softly, or quite a rose, as in very English, pretty, English manners and understanding of aristocracy and Royalty. Are we to think that is where he has been spending his time? If this is the case, it sounds like they cannot yet , obviously, be officially a couple, but she is English and comes from a very good family! Oh this is exciting!

DEEP and CRISP and IVAN…… He’ll stop their extravagant travel.

When you deep fry or bake something you want it deep, crisp and even. Here we have deep, crisp and Ivan. IVAN is an obvious Russian name and reference Deep, May be deep cover, as is spies or law enforcement going deep under cover infiltration of an organization or country for intelligence gathering. Is there talk of the Madam and MA seeking refuge with Vlad? We have had several mention of Putin in the last few riddles. Yes, if you are a citizen of Russia you do or not do only what he wants done or done to. Burns can be deep and crisp. Cold can be deep. Russia has some of the coldest places on the planet. There are many who ponder who she really is, her missing years, her connections and who she is allegedly really working for. This NATO summit may result in intel shared and information released that may just be earth shattering and life changing for some!

Has madam found instead of pale, male and stale, a nice oligarch to fund her lifestyle? She is far too old, used up, and Russia is full of beautiful women to choose from. However she does possess an alleged skill set that some enjoy and most have never heard of , allegedly.

“ charades ,old thing”. …” pass the parcel,Philip!!

Sandringham Christmas, for the Royal family, has four certain things, family goes to church, family dinner, gag gifts and wickedly competitive games of charades. HMTQ and PP talking abut and very much looking forward to it. Appears they are wrapping Christmas gifts as the talk.

1535 hrs GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

Sorry for lack of stories today kids, headache, but l wanted to at least give the riddle a go

💜💜💜💜🙏🏻PG🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜💜

Nothing gets in your way dear PG! No matter what, you always tell great stories and add so much to the riddles! Thank you for doing this, so appreciated! Sounding wonderful!🙏🏻💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

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128: Nov 29

MM ANON …… 🎼 build it up with wood and clay🎼 ……… a crown script …… Harry’s rapid response …… the wrong side of the tunnel ……… “give time,time old boy”……… “ if it was Good enough for HM”……… tagged ,bad, and dangerous to know ……… look ,listen and learn ……… black fry-day……”nowhere as secluded as Sandringham”……… “she’s a beauty mate, breath of fresh air”

First of all my prayers and sympathy for the terrible losses today, the act of a madman. Extreme gratitude to the brave members of the public who went well into harms way to keep others safe. Gratitude to the armed police response and all the police officers, emergency personnel, the trauma team that was choppers onto the scene and every first responder. My prayers for all the secondary victims, the witnesses, the people whose memories are triggered by this’d senseless violence. 💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻PG🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

November 29/2019 1845 hrs CST RIDDLE #127

🎼 build it up with wood and clay🎼

This is a line from the classic children’s song, London Bridge is falling down. As I said in my opening, ‘twas a horrific act by a madman. I do trust the Terrorism Unit will investigate and see if this was a lone wolf, or part of a cell. Many ISIS and other prisoners have been released as their sentences served. This may just be a message of what to come in the Holy part of the year December, for a variety of faiths. 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

a crown script

The television show The Crown airs on Netflix. I have never seen it. Reports and comments say there are quite the liberties taken with the truth. The current actor portraying HMTQ is Olivia Colman, academy award winner last year, is not doing as good a job as a Claire Foy, the previous actor.l read about things but don’t have the patience to watch. Apparently she plays HMTQ angrily’ , is what l have read. However, l do believe what isn’t known about HMTQ is and would far more complex and interesting than any television show.

Script is the writing for the speaking part of a play, film, tv show etc. Script can be a manner of writing, the font, is there some new engraving being added to the crown? I read the crackers for Christmas, HMTQ has bespoke ones for each family, some have gold crowns and some silver, l do believe there are inscriptions on each, hence crown script!

Harry’s rapid response

Was Harry involved in today’s event? Did he rush in to help? Or help a by-stander. Prince Harry was an Apache pilot and worked in Intelligence whilst serving in Afghanistan. I just wonder if he was helpful in any manner today. With Invictus, he and all the members this will possibly trigger, potentially bad episodes of their PTSD. I truly wonder if Harry has taken action in that regard to help out those triggered by this horrible event.

the wrong side of the tunnel

Because everything above was shut down, so was the tube, making the tunnel unusable. I wonder if some of the victims came out of the same side of the tunnel, before it was shut down and just happened to be bystanders in the situation. Kind of like , no exactly like being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“give time,time old boy”

PP has been ill, and very likely frustrated, he is being encouraged to give it time, to recover and feel better.Or is this PP saying this to PC who l think is still with him, l am bot certain of THST, just an idea.

“ if it was Good enough for HM”

Boy this reminds me of madam wanting air freshener in the Chapel at Windsor for her wedding. She was probably smelling her own sulfur! Is this, l cannot believe l am going to say this, but is this about the NATO banquet and the jewel the women will wear, l am thinking madam, wanting some specific and being given plain or something she didn’t want to wear and then the line was said, if it was Good enough for HM. Stop screaming at me! I know, breathe, l know there is NO WAY on this earth madam will be at this banquet, however with her one just does not know what a wild cat will do!

tagged ,bad, and dangerous to know

The killer on the bridge today that the public wrestled down after he stabbed many, two died, was an Islamic terrorist wearing an electronic monitoring tag. A bad bad man, now no longer among us! Yet there are many many many more! We all need to be vigilant! Bravo to those brave individuals today!!!

look ,listen and learn

This applies to each of us, a basic life lesson. Law enforcement in London was repeatedly saying today, if you see anything suspicious call them. Look, Listen, and Learn is also a trained learning of audio-visual correspondence, basically videos with sound,ie voicemail, FaceTime, Skype, text, imessage, etc etc as opposed to other embeddings, like plans for bombs hidden inside of a painting, a lot of ultra secret manners to embed data. requiring labeled intelligence. Is this the manner of monitoring of madam and other persons of interest? Is this how incriminating information was obtained allegedly by individuals at the SewHoe Farm? And other SewHoe places?

black fry-day

Today is Black Friday, started in America the day following their Thanksgiving, the first day officially to Christmas shop with sales galore. It has gone global! It’s madness, queuing up at 0300 to buy a tv!! Here we have black fry- day, what’s being fried? Or who?

Fry can means destroy and one wears black when in mourning. Both are directly a result of the horror that happened in London today. Lives lost, families destroyed, people traumatized and retraumatized. This was definitely one black Friday!

“nowhere as secluded as Sandringham”“she’s a beauty mate, breath of fresh air”

We have had several clues in succession on what l believe this to be. I do believe Harry has found someone during this horror time with madam. It would explain her rages when she cannot find him, putting out the PR that he was missing and his family was worried sick. We have not Harry for awhile. Next l believe will be NATO greeting and then the NATO banquet on December 3/2019. Sounds like Sandringham may be a nice secluded place for them to spend time together. And just as yesterday’s riddle said, this speaker is also giving a ringing endorse,ent if her!

Kids this was an extremely challenging riddle. I seem to be losing my abilities to interpret them. This is my best go. I hope at least some of it is helpful. It truly is me giving 110% effort.

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

Thank you dear PG….your hard work is always appreciated….🙏🏻💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Ask Skippy submission

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[baka-tsumibito]

VKC/VME SECRET SANTA FIC 2018 [REPOST]

Couldn’t find it in the tags, so reposting! Let me know if you see it orz

Gift recipient: @foliefolio

This is for the wonderful Folie!! (Whose writing sustained me almost single-handedly since the end of the anime 😭) I can’t put into words how nerve-wracking writing this was, especially since I’ve had a ton of fic planned out that have gone unpublished for like...3-4 years?? Anyway, I guess this is finally my foray into ‘posting’ for VKC....and what better way to do it than to write for my idol ✨ !! I love you so much Folie, and I hope this suits your tastes. (And feel free to say if it doesn’t!!! I had a bunch of other ideas, and have another idea draft written out 😂) You’ve been such a big inspiration to me for the past ~16 months ❤️ I hope I can keep reading your writing for a long time to come!!! (Especially Vatican fics ehehe) And above all, I hope your holidays went wonderfully!!✨

(and if you didn’t see this yesterday, I’m sorry it’s late!!!!!!!)

The prompt was pretty open, and suggested some seasonal touches such as  Christmas in Rome, night, gold, bells, cold, etc. I think I used most of them to be honest! There is quite a bit of ahem, non-2019-tumbr-appropriate content, so be warned (I was rather careful with the vocabulary though *shrugs*). Actually, 3/4 of it is priests doing the do, with lots of gratuitous Hiraga family mentions (JIN IS CANNON AND I LOVE HIM). [I guess I’ve never really posted publicly above my love for VKC, but I am a die-hard HiraRobe (esp. bottom Roberto) lover. Roberto will eventually cry (before/during/after or all 3) when they consummate their relationship 100%. I don’t think I did my thoughts of them justice here, and if I ever manage to publish again, there will definitely be more angst ; __ ; (There also needs to be more weirdness/religion too.) My current biggest thing is Vatican politics, and the logistics of priests in relationships despite their vows, how they make moral justifications and types of penance etc.etc. which I did not go into almost at ALL, so yeah...] Tumblr formatting is not ideal, so this will probably go up on AO3 once I get a chance to edit. I have a ton of miscellaneous commentary too, so that’ll probably be there as well. Sorry for the long preface, onto the actual gift! [Couldn’t find the read more button, I’m sorry :’) ] *** The winter wind is cold and brisk, blowing across the balcony and permeating the thin blanket draped around Roberto’s shoulders, useless against the frigid air. He cannot hold back a shiver, then another, and he desperately wishes for some form of heat. The door slides open and shut behind him with a click, bringing no respite from the chill. Hiraga, then? Both his brother and his father are asleep in the room behind him. Roberto had been nodding off on the sofa himself, but despite the late hour, it’s time for him to go and give the family some privacy.

Hiraga would be against that; luckily, Roberto can try to convince him out here, in the relative privacy of the balcony. Only God will be their witness – and perhaps, the smoker in the hotel across the way if he stays out much longer. “Roberto,” Hiraga murmurs at his back, arms wrapping around his middle and firmly anchoring themselves around his torso.

Oh.

Perhaps it is not time for this particular discussion then. Maybe, Roberto can allow himself to indulge for a few minutes. But alas, nothing with Hiraga ever seems to go according to plan. For Hiraga’s hands are already beginning to wander, and with them Roberto’s composure is already starting to break. “Hiraga,” Roberto begins, train of thought nearly derailing when a fingertip purposefully flicks against a hardened nub. He supresses a sigh. “Isn’t this a little…” Tasteless? Improper? Ryouta is on the other side of the balcony door, in their room; so is Hiraga Jin –

(kind, wonderful Hiraga Jin who had spoken with him about opera for hours at length, only pausing for a second when Roberto shuddered, expression falling, at the mention of Puccini who had followed Rossini, Verdi and before that,Weber, Wagner and Wetz and Jin had been delighted to find Roberto knew even obscure German composers “Ah, I suppose no Tosca for you then, Roberto-kun,”and when Roberto smiled back weakly, almost in apology,

 “That’s alright,” he murmured consolingly. “I can’t say I’m very fond of Madama Butterfly myself.”)

– Jin who has shown nothing but tremendous kindness to Roberto from the moment they met in the train terminal. Jin, who Roberto has only known personally for less than twenty hours and is desperately trying impress, and keep face in front of him at the very minimum. (Jin, who had smiled at Roberto with as much kindness as either of his sons after a single conversation; who had welcomed him into the family – immediately, as Roberto would find out from the paperwork he would receive a few weeks later – Jin, who had insisted Roberto call him by his given name, insisting that any other title would be too stuffy and that one “Hiraga” was more than enough.) (And Hiraga, his lovely partner Hiraga, had made an undecipherable expression upon realizing he was now the only one being referred to by surname.) Ryouta and Jin are only separated from them by a glass door; Hiraga’s delicate hands are currently worming their way through the layers of blanket and underclothes to Roberto’s skin and he can’t— “Hiraga…!” 

We can’t, Roberto needs to tell him, not here. No matter how much his body desires, blood thrumming through his veins at the proximity he has barely had enough days to get used to, if at all– since Hiraga kissed him on the stroke of midnight as the crowds on the television in front of them began screaming in celebration, soft mouth pressing against Roberto’s frozen smile, still with surprise and fear, buried underneath the building euphoria – since Hiraga took his bare hand a day later, telling him “My family is coming to Italy to celebrate with us; won’t you join me?” And Roberto hadn’t known what to do with the burst of adrenaline that sent his heart pounding loud enough to drown out Hiraga’s soft explanations of travel plans and cheap hotel rooms post-holiday season – since Hiraga had shown up at his door at 5:50 in the morning, dressed casually but smartly as he usually did on their days off together, taken one look at the circles under Roberto’s eyes and dragged him back to bed (where they had laid together and Roberto hadn’t managed much rest at all when they were forced to rise or be late to Rome) – since touching Hiraga to his heart’s desire became allowed, and now Roberto feels the precarious grip on his self-control he has clung to all this time begin to slip. “Roberto…” comes Hiraga’s voice, cutting quietly through the night air. Rome is much more crowded than the Vatican. Booking a room on an upper floor has its advantages, Roberto muses in an attempt to distract himself from the warmth and pressure at his back. The night view is rather enchanting, what with the colorful array of lights spreading out in the distance. “Roberto..!” Hiraga calls more insistently this time, startling Roberto out of his reverie. He is not accustomed to being ignored, and Roberto must apologize. A kiss to his spine signals that he is forgiven. Roberto lets out a sigh in response. “Bend down please,” Hiraga murmurs at his back, and Roberto reflexively complies. As he slowly hunches over the railing, Hiraga’s lips find the back of his neck. Roberto shivers, not out of cold alone. Each kiss leaves a trail of ice in its wake, as Hiraga makes his way down the slope of one shoulder, then the other. His fingers are occupied with Roberto’s buttons, and as they slowly come undone, more and more skin is revealed to the biting wind, immediately covered by Hiraga’s eager mouth. After some time, Hiraga begins to tire of this, and slips both arms under Roberto’s shirt. He cannot supress a whimper. Thus spurred on, Hiraga’s hands come to rest on his bare chest, caressing him lightly. Still, there is intent behind each stroke, and as one hand flits over his hardened nipple, the other slips lower, stroking the curves of Roberto’s torso and muscles as it descends down his stomach. “…ah… Hiraga, w-wait…” Roberto stifles a gasp as a fingertip brushes the skin along his waistband. Don’t stop, he contradicts himself internally. Please don’t let go of me. He wonders if Hiraga can hear him anyway, intuiting his desires, but reluctantly, Hiraga’s hands do come to a halt before pulling away entirely. “Nnn…!” Roberto lets out unintentionally. The movement of Hiraga’s arms has caused the blanket to shift, leaving his upper body uncovered, bare from the shoulders where Hiraga had worried at the skin with his lips. They are only apart for a few moments, though it is enough for a sudden draft to send him shivering. Hiraga struggles with something behind him. “It’s alright,” Hiraga soothes, “It’s alright. Roberto.” He returns with the blanket, fumbling to wrap it snuggly around the two of them together. Roberto begins to find this struggle endearing as his bare skin is covered once more, although Hiraga’s comfort takes priority. He twists around slightly intending to take over, but Hiraga’s palms come to rest on his shoulder blades, stopping him halfway. “Let me please,” he chastens. Who is Roberto to say no? “Alright,” he allows. He strains to keep still, as his instincts urge him to turn around, to take Hiraga into his arms and keep him there indefinitely. If only, if only… Hiraga’s fussing continues on, and Roberto’s left hand is captured by both of Hiraga’s during the struggle, right hand bracing them both against the railing. Their entwined limbs are somehow even colder – an uncomfortable cold Roberto cannot shake off when Hiraga’s fingers glide away to continue tucking the sheet elsewhere. He struggles to shake his hand free – an attempt to bring it up to his lips and warm it with his breath – but when his hand emerges from the tangle, Roberto’s eyes immediately zero in on the metal band settled snugly around his finger. Behind him, Hiraga has stilled; finished fiddling with the blanket then, or waiting for Roberto’s reaction? A quick glance tells him that the sheet is stretched taut around his chest, already beginning to slide down and bringing his unbuttoned shirt with it. Hiraga is a priest; he has, then, undoubtedly attended the same classes Roberto has, and Roberto aches, aches, to believe that not even Hiraga would mistake the significance of putting a ring. on someone’s. left.

(ring finger) He desperately wants to see what expression Hiraga is wearing at the moment, but his partner’s face is currently buried between Roberto’s shoulder blades, showing no signs of emerging. His own face must look something scary, for Roberto can feel himself start to tear up, wind attacking him mercilessly and deepening the ache. Roberto struggles to rotate his upper body, disturbing Hiraga’s careful wrapping and unsettling his hiding spot. With this new angle, his hip is digging into the metal bars of the railing. Roberto pays it no mind, cupping Hiraga’s cheeks and bringing their gazes level. Hiraga is flushed, eyes darting left and right before slowly looking up at Roberto through his long lashes. His chin is lowered, and he is biting his lip. Goodness, how many times must he be told not to, Roberto thinks with a level of fondness. He reaches out to free Hiraga’s poor lip with his left arm, and both of their eyes are drawn to the shining ring. Hiraga lets out a deep breath. “I,” Hiraga falters, looks away. “Is it… alright now? That is, to…” His voice is soft from embarrassment, but hope shines through in his gaze, drilling holes into Roberto’s breastbone. Roberto cannot tear his eyes away. He gently calls for Hiraga’s attention, and Hiraga jerks his head up, making eye contact. Roberto can spot the moment Hiraga begins to panic, eyes dilating in alarm – after all, Hiraga has always been weak to crying, and Roberto has felt the urge to bawl building since that precious celebratory kiss. “Yes,” Roberto breathes, somewhat tearfully. “I could never say no to you.” Hiraga makes to wipe Roberto’s eyes, but pauses halfway. Roberto can only hold still, anticipation rising with each passing second…… until Hiraga raises himself on his toes to kiss the corner of his mouth, fisting the fabric pooled at Roberto’s waist. *** Hiraga’s lips flutter around the shell of Roberto’s ear, and he whines, softly. He can feel Hiraga, pressing into his hip unashamedly. He craves it, has been craving it maybe since they began their partnership, when Roberto began to feel like the hole in his chest could possibly be filled by the presence of this wonderful man. But right now, they’re outside and clearly visible to anyone who might happen to be watching. The alternative is a room containing the two people he wishes to impress the most, Hiraga’s family. There is no escape. And what about preparation? He hasn’t, oh heavens, hasn’t cleaned, has nothing to ease the slide of Hiraga inside of him, and what if it chafes? Hiraga would hurt, and they’d never attempt it again out of fear, and maybe regret – And what of their respective positions? Caught up by the mood, Roberto has forgotten – or purposefully put aside, as he can never truly forget – what of their vows? Hiraga has told him, the moment reality and dread set in after the midnight kiss, that the Church and God are separate; that God will forgive them this, will grant them this much, that love is beautiful in all forms. He’d quoted scripture and philosophies en masse and while Roberto had been struggling to wrap his aching head and heart around them, daring to hope, he’d forgotten to consider why Hiraga had done so much research. Now, it was all coming back to bite him. Not yet, his heart whimpers. We can’t, not until – until what? Will discussing his deepest fears quell the clamour in his heart, the noise that has refused to subside through time and effort? Hiraga bites down, drawing Roberto out of his spiralling thoughts. His ear stings pleasantly, Hiraga soothing the bite with tiny licks. Not wanting his dismay to be noticed, Roberto turns fully away, grasping the rail with a quiet click from the ring. If Hiraga has noticed anything, he stays quiet, only pressing even closer, throbbing length nudging the backs of Roberto’s legs. Ah. What if he took me like this?

And Roberto imagines Hiraga, slick between his thighs, hidden from any prying eyes by the folds of the sheet carefully draped around their waists. He visualizes the slide, smooth and warm, and aches in empathy. He’d have to cover his face, hide his expression, his tears borne from enjoyment and desire. He keens softly, and Hiraga’s arms tighten around his torso. “Roberto,” Hiraga pants, breathing rather heavily. “Let me see your face please.” And Roberto’s plans go out the figurative window .“…Alright,” he swallows, grasping the blanket and desperately trying to compose his expression while Hiraga manoeuvres him eagerly until they are face-to-face. He ducks his head, and Hiraga takes the opportunity, pushing forward until their lips meet tenderly in their first proper kiss of the night. It does not last nearly long enough. Roberto is left to savour the taste of Hiraga on his lips as Hiraga’s mouth wanders, destination clearly in mind. Roberto’s body takes this moment to remind him that a certain areahas been lacking attention; with a cry, his lower body jerks forward when Hiraga’s teeth brush the spot where jaw meets neck. His front, bulging prominently, hits something – Hiraga’s leg? – and he rushes to apologize. “Ah..Hiraga! I’m sorry—ahh!” Unbothered, Hiraga continues to move lower, shifting his stance until they are touching, chest to groin to thigh. Roberto can’t help but moan at the pressure, their hardness aligned as much as possible with their differences in height. Hiraga rolls his hips forward, lips buried in the crook of Roberto’s neck. Roberto presses his face to Hiraga’s hair. He cannot stifle the outpouring of groans and embarrassing noises he is producing in the face of such intense pleasure. “Ngh, aah… Hiraga, Hiraga, Hiraga…” Hiraga’s name is a litany of pleas on Roberto’s lips. Hiraga shudders in euphoria, rubbing their hips together. Calling his name in return. “Roberto...!” Hiraga pulls away, and the feeling of loss on Roberto’s neck is palpable, but then Hiraga presses their foreheads together and the pang is instantly soothed. Hiraga’s hand scrabbles with the too-tight front of Roberto’s pants. “May I? Please, I, oh, please allow me this…” he pleads, and Roberto has hardly breathed his assent before Hiraga is reaching into his undergarments and pulling him out rather hastily. But it’s enough, more than, even. “….Ah!” Roberto exclaims, head falling back. It’s been a very, very long time since he has touched himself this way; as little faith as he held in his own lifestyle, something about living up to Hiraga’s ideals (or so he imagined) had prevented him from indulging in this particular pleasure, at least in his conscious moments. In his sleep, he might be graced with Hiraga’s warmth only to regret his weakness in the morning, then spend days repenting. Or, he would find himself absently wondering about the stretch of his jaw when contemplating food, imagining the sensation of something inside him when cleaning the bidet (or using it). He’d promptly banish these thoughts, face flushed and guilt building, but. It was impossible to repress his sinful desires for long before they would surface, often at the most inconvenient of times. However, now he is keenly feeling the aftermath of abstaining. The pleasure is all-consuming. His body is ready to give in, limbs wound up tense, focus narrowed in on the tightness and particular sensation of Hiraga’s fist. But he cannot give in, not without giving something in return, not without seeing the rapture he is experiencing reflected in Hiraga’s own self. “Let me,” he rasps, fumbling towards Hiraga’s own straining erection. Hiraga sighs in response, pushing up into Roberto’s palm the moment he is freed. His free arm searches out Roberto’s, and Roberto starts as Hiraga winds their fingers together, jostling the cool metal around his ring finger already warming up in response to Hiraga’s touch. Hands clasped, they tug on each other frantically, racing to completion yet not awaiting the finish. “Roberto…” Hiraga exhales, smiling up at him. The city lights aren’t bright enough for Roberto to make out his eyes with their usual clarity, but they shine nonetheless. Hiraga is beautiful no matter where he is, Roberto reflects, and he leans in to capture that beauty for a fleeting moment. Hiraga kisses enthusiastically, all lips and tongue, and Roberto is content to let himself be kissed, thoroughly. Were this the private fantasy of his dreams, or the corner of his mind he dares not allow his mind to wander, he would take Hiraga’s jaw in hand and show him delicacy. Gentle, slow, yet warm… except, crouching on this freezing balcony, Hiraga is his only source of warmth, and Roberto desires his heat from his toes to his mouth to the depths of his core. 

It is, he considers with what little sanity that remains, all too much. Hiraga has barely had his hands and lips on him, and Roberto is already at his limit, approaching climax at an alarming rate; he cannot spare anymore thoughts for the eyes that might be on them, whether it be the smoker from the hotel across the way, or even innocent Ryouta, who would surely come to resent him should he catch the two of them in such a compromising position. Roberto defiling his precious older brother – The sudden glare that blinds him even through his half-closed lids is regrettably not due to their climaxes. Roberto pulls away, however reluctantly, from Hiraga’s demanding kisses, letting go of Hiraga (to their mutual dismay) in order to lift the blanket even higher. He squeezes their entwined hands in apology; thankfully Hiraga does not respond by tightening his hand where it rests around Roberto.

The least he can do is shield Hiraga’s body from sight, as he scrambles for a way to do damage control, although the situation is not promising. Against him, Hiraga is pliant but confused as he tries to figure out where Roberto’s attention has gone. It takes a few, loaded moments before his attention is directed to the room behind him. By fault of pleasure or exhaustion, Roberto is not sure, his eyes take what feels like minutes to adjust. What had seemed blinding a few moments before is only a small lamp, mounted next to an empty armchair where Ryouta had curled up for the evening despite the inviting bed beside him. Jin takes up half of said bed now, spread out on top of the sheets and still in his day clothes. He doesn’t seem to have moved from where Roberto had last seen him before heading outside, unsure if pulling the blankets up around him would be too much, or. Well. All the more he should leave them be, before he intruded too much, Roberto had reasoned, then promptly fled to the balcony. Roberto stiffens as he spots Ryouta exit the bathroom, rubbing his eyes blearily and looking very much half-asleep. More or less relaxed, Hiraga leans against his chest, exuding more calm than Roberto feels as Ryouta climbs onto the bed and settles in next to his father. They observe silently for a little longer, perhaps bound by some mutual understanding built after years of partnership, watching him slip deeper into sleep. The lamp is left forgotten. Hiraga is the first to break the silence, laughing softly. He turns back to Roberto, looking pleased. “Roberto,” he begins. “Shall we head inside? So you don’t fall ill.” 

How he is so unruffled when they were nearly caught in the act, Roberto cannot fathom. Still, he would hate to ruin the moment, to burst the bubble with whys and what ifs. Steeling himself, he leans in to rest their heads together. Moving their coupling into the room where Hiraga’s family is sleeping is unthinkable, and the inevitable end to their encounter if they do go inside hurts just as much. Hiraga’s hand is hot and fidgeting around him, and a distant part of Roberto is ashamed that his erection has not flagged in the slightest. Not yet. I don’t want this to end yet. “Hiraga,” Roberto tells him. “Please…don’t stop.” And with that, Roberto gently grabs Hiraga’s length, bringing them together; the heat of them combined is electric. He can hardly keep his eyes open wide enough to take in the details of Hiraga’s beautiful face: eyelids fluttering, mouth gasping, bangs sticking to his face with what must be a cold sweat. “Roberto…hnngh…” Hiraga groans, letting go and allowing Roberto to take care of bringing them over the edge. Roberto is infinitely grateful that Hiraga, intentionally or not, takes the blanket in hand briefly before allowing his free hand to roam around Roberto’s bare chest once more. It’s much warmer without the slick from their pre-cum freezing in the breeze. Hiraga’s hand wanders up to Roberto’s right cheek, pulling him back in for another kiss. He licks into Roberto’s mouth, tongue wandering up and down teeth, along the roof of his mouth, and twining their tongues together. The intensity of it all brings Roberto right back to the precipice he had been teetering on the edge of not long before. It’s all he can do to keep stroking them, although admittedly Hiraga thrusting against him is doing much more than the periodic buckling of his own hips. “Hiraga, Hiraga…” he whispers into the kiss, and Hiraga sucks Roberto’s tongue into his mouth. “Nnn…” When Hiraga pulls away, Roberto follows. The next words he speaks are against Roberto’s lips. “Roberto,” Hiraga forces out. “Please.” His voice takes on a deeper timbre, lower than Roberto has ever hear from him. It’s incredibly attractive, just as much as the near-growl that comes out next. “Please,” “call my name.” Roberto’s heart lurches. (And oh, if this hasn’t been building all day, since he’d caught Hiraga staring at them wistfully) (“Here, Roberto-nii-san!” “Thank you Ryouta-kun.”) ( “Has Kou been giving you much trouble, Roberto-kun?” “Not too much, Jin-san. It’s nothing I can’t handle. Right, Hiraga?”) ( “Onii-san, your expression is scary…”) A swell of affection rises in him, and Roberto presses his lips to Hiraga’s ear before he whispers, “Kou.” The effect is instantaneous; Hiraga cries out, jerks his hips into Roberto’s hand, and squeezes Roberto’s other palm. The ring digs into his skin, and the reminder that Hiraga had gotten him a ring paired with the sudden, aggressive crash of lips on his is enough to knock enough awareness into him. Oh, Roberto thinks, feeling somewhat removed. This isn’t a dream.

He’s embracing (making love to?) Hiraga for the first time; the thought consumes him, sends his eyes watering, and his body chooses that moment to give in. *** Roberto is vaguely conscious of Hiraga calling his name during his release. When Hiraga captures his lips once more, softly this time, he feels himself returning to the present. Hiraga pulls away gradually. “Have you come back to me yet?” he murmurs, and the words are endearing enough that Roberto kisses him again, and again, until his cooling body interrupts, and he must pull away to stifle a sneeze. “Oh, Roberto,” Hiraga says dreamily. Roberto stares at him. “You were so beautiful when you came.” Roberto cannot help the flush that rises to his cheeks, his ears, and quite possibly his neck too. The tears he has been holding in all night decide to overflow, much to his embarrassment. “Aah, uuuu…” Roberto turns his head to the side, extricating his left hand from Hiraga’s grasp to cover his face. Surprisingly, Hiraga lets him, and does not startle at the sight of his tears. Instead, he wraps both arms around Roberto’s waist and holds him close.

It’s warm. What is also warm – and somehow still not deflating – is Hiraga’s member, still grasped in Roberto’s grip with his own, softening and growing oversensitive, length. Hiraga has not come yet. Staring at the crown of Hiraga’s head, Roberto’s muddled mind reaches this conclusion much too slowly. Mustn’t it be painful? Why hadn’t he said – this is Hiraga, selfless to a fault. Of course he hadn’t said anything. Roberto must take care of him. It’s partially a selfish desire: what face would Hiraga make, trembling in the arms of ecstasy? How would his limbs tense, back arch, expression contort? Would he come with Roberto’s name on his lips, begging for a kiss, or for release? Roberto needs to find out. “Hiraga,” he says, letting go of them at last. Hiraga whimpers, face still hidden in Roberto’s chest. “Hiraga,” he tries again, this time moving to release Hiraga’s tight grip around his back. Hiraga does not give. “Yes yes,” he wants to laugh, but settles for pressing a kiss to Hiraga’s hair part, then suddenly drops to his knees. Hiraga’s hands, now left grasping at empty air, immediately find purchase in Roberto’s curls. Roberto takes a second to look up at him, framed by several lights from surrounding buildings and the clear night sky. Hiraga has always looked lovely, but this view of him, hair and clothing disheveled, zip opened and framing his aching hardness, staring down at Roberto with eyes filled with something he desperately wishes is love, this view of him is nothing short of angelic. He commits the view to memory as he leans forward to nuzzle Hiraga’s shaft. “Roberto…” Hiraga sounds dazed. Roberto’s tongue darts out to lick along a protruding vein, and Hiraga’s hips buck forward. “Roberto!” But Roberto gives him no time to apologize. He takes the head – that had only nudged his cheek – into his mouth, and sucks. Hiraga hisses, fingers tightening in his hair. “R-Roberto…it’s aaah… so w-warm…” Hiraga stutters, hips moving erratically. Roberto’s hands reach up from where they grip Hiraga’s thighs to trace his protruding hipbones. Remembering himself, Roberto’s dominant hand dips down to cup, then gently tug on Hiraga’s balls. Hiraga sighs. They are already wound close to his body; is he close? More than likely, Roberto assumes. While Hiraga has been surprising him left and right recently, the idea of Hiraga getting himself off frequently enough to build up a decent amount of stamina is still improbable, at best. Roberto mulls this over while taking Hiraga further into his mouth, redirecting his line of sight low enough to ensure his lips stayed folded over his teeth. Hiraga is part of the science division, and Roberto would not be surprised at this point if their personal doctrine concerning abstinence is less strict than what is expected by the Church. For ah, health reasons, perhaps. After all, the human body is designed for periodic release and tension does build up. But Hiraga is not good at taking care of his own needs, Roberto muses as he bobs his head. Hiraga cries out his name above him. Occasionally perchance, but Hiraga touching himself with any degree of frequency is about as unbelievable as Hiraga having a wedding night… and Roberto’s pace falters as the band on his finger grows unbelievably heavy. Hiraga strokes through Roberto’s hair, and it serves as a reminder to concentrate on his task. Thoughts of how Hiraga gets himself off, and what Hiraga’s intentions are should be saved for later, in the privacy of his home. Or, ah, bed. Roberto makes a questioning sound, almost as if to say does it feel good? and Hiraga groans before telling him yes, of course--oh!.. yes, very much so--ahhh... If only he could take him all the way down, Roberto despairs, but his jaw is already nearing its limits. He swallows in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure – but this must feel incredibly good, as Hiraga’s hands clench in a vice grip. His hips pick up the pace and Roberto keeps himself still as to let Hiraga take his pleasure. Roberto, Roberto, Roberto….. Hiraga calls out his name over and over, and Roberto wishes for this to last just a little longer. Hiraga’s hips stutter, and Roberto takes over as best he can, until he can taste Hiraga’s release pouring down his throat. He comes rather silently, Roberto notices, staring up at the long line of Hiraga’s throat. His expression is hidden by his chin and his hair, Roberto observes regretfully. Either way, he is still the most beautiful sight Roberto has ever laid eyes upon. He keeps his lips fastened around Hiraga until he has emptied himself. Roberto gently licks him clean before pulling off and swallowing the load. He stays on his knees, staring up at Hiraga and gently stroking his legs until Hiraga comes back to himself, looks down at Roberto in awe and tugs on him lightly until Roberto gets to his feet. Hiraga leans against him as Roberto wipes first his hand, then Hiraga’s softening shaft with the dirtied blanket. Hiraga’s warmth is akin to a fire, and Roberto basks in it (being outside shirtless in January means it is most likely his sense of temperature that is off). He won’t regret anything if he gets sick, although maybe if either of them had had more presence of mind, they would have made better use of the now-sticky blanket. Hiraga takes hold of a corner to wipe up the small smear he made under Roberto’s eye. Roberto tries to tidy them up as best he can, tucking them carefully inside their underwear, closing buttons and zippers and hiding skin once more. And combing through hair (or at least Hiraga’s; with the way Hiraga had been tugging on his own, he’s not sure he can face the damage without a mirror or two). He leaves his shirt half-buttoned, only for the way Hiraga’s gaze lingers (dare he say, appreciatively). Thus groomed, Hiraga leans in to kiss him. Roberto quickly reaches up to place three fingers on Hiraga’s lips. “Nn?” Hiraga looks up at him in surprise, thrown off. “I, I just…” Roberto does not know how to put this into words without embarrassing himself even further. He settles for pointing at his throat. “Swallowed..” Expression determined, Hiraga reaches up with unexpected strength, pulling Roberto’s fingers away and sticking his tongue inside Roberto’s mouth. He licks him more thoroughly than before, and Roberto is helpless to stop him, mind blank. “It’s alright,” Hiraga tells him as he pulls away, wiping a suspicious wetness off his bottom lip with his thumb. (Roberto doesn’t want to know.) “Of course I don’t mind that. I love you.” In the silence, neither of them expect the second deluge of tears of the night. Ashamed, Roberto prays for the earth to swallow him up. Maybe then, he can spend eternity contemplating Hiraga’s revelation, or giving thanks for this encounter. And then plead for a second. Hiraga leads Roberto, sobbing silently, inside. If the constantly-changing temperatures don’t make him sick, maybe dehydration will. He decides to turn a blind-eye to the blanket dumped on the floor between the empty bed and the wall – he does not have the energy to deal with it now. It is only when Hiraga pulls Roberto into his lap on the unoccupied bed that Roberto remembers his resolve to leave the family their privacy. It quickly crumbles faced with the stream of uninterrupted tears. Roberto is quick to hide his face in Hiraga’s arms. Hiraga strokes his head for as long as it takes Roberto to reign himself in. When his shoulders cease their trembling, at last Hiraga speaks: “Roberto? Did I do something wrong?... Have you, come to hate me?” Roberto’s head snaps up immediately. “No!” He takes a deep breath, and reminds himself to speak quietly as to not wake up the rest of the room. Hiraga’s face is already showing signs of relief.

“Of course not,” he continues in a whisper. “How could you think that? I,” and here Roberto pauses. This is not the ideal place to confess. Hiraga deserves much, much more than a sobbing mess and a soiled sheet on a cold balcony in an unfamiliar room, but. But. 

Hiraga has given him so much today. (A confession, a ring, an experience of family. A hand, a mouth, and pleasure Roberto could never put into words.) It’s not fair to keep him waiting still.

“I love you more than anything,” Roberto confesses to him quietly. “I will never, ever come to hate you. I promise.” Hiraga smiles up at him, eyes glittering. “I know!” That throws Roberto off. “Eh?” Hiraga’s grin is infectious. “You told me earlier, when you, ah…” Hiraga’s eyes dart over to where his brother and father lie sleeping. He meets Roberto’s eyes, blushing slightly but with a playful smile. Roberto cannot believe his ears.

“I did?” Hiraga nods happily. “Ah. I see. How unfortunate,” Roberto continues. “I had hoped to remember at least that much.”

Hiraga nestles up to him, seemingly unphased. “It’s alright. I’d be happy to hear it again.”

And with that, every unsettled feeling in Roberto’s heart is swept away.

(I love you, he whispers, and will continue to all night, face hidden in Hiraga’s hair.)

Hiraga wipes away the wet streaks that adorn his face. They take a blanket from their own bed to cover Jin and Ryouta, lost in slumber. The lamp is switched off. The used blanket is adequately hidden, and Roberto washes his face while Hiraga dries his hands. Roberto runs his fingers through his hair, though it is likely a lost cause.

Once they’re done, Roberto allows Hiraga to tug him into their own bed with no complaints. He embraces him tightly.

“Hey,” Roberto whispers to him. “Let’s go buy your ring soon, alright?”

“Make,” Hiraga corrects sleepily, and Roberto is once again sent reeling. He holds Hiraga as he falls asleep, whispering promises of love, and tries to pray, to offer what thanks he can to God for this blessing. (The next day is truly just as exciting: Jin and Ryouta wake up disoriented but happy when they see the couple embracing in their sleep, Roberto discovers that his ring is gold – he won’t find the inscription within until they get home – and Hiraga gets flustered when Roberto calls him “Kou” in front of everyone. Hiraga gets teased about his new, form-fitting wardrobe much to Roberto’s delight, Jin tries to teach them all about adoption processes and family registries in Japan – to everyone but Hiraga’s confusion – and Roberto nearly damages something when he finds several red marks covering his nape, in plain view despite his shirt collar.)

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @caffeine-in-an-iv!

Happy Holidays and/or Seasons Greetings to my Secret Santa, caffeine-in-an-iv aka WitchWithWifi! I heard you liked Christmas fluff! Well, have I got some fluff for you! I really hope you enjoy it! Thanks so much for reading!

Read on AO3

*****

Follow the Jelly Beans

Derek can’t believe he’s the last one off the plane.  

It’s partially his fault, he’d been working late and had to rush to the airport.  The dirty looks he’d gotten when he ran down the aisle of the plane in a crumpled suit rivaled what he had gotten from his mother on Skype that morning when he said he’d be catching a later flight.  

It isn’t Derek’s fault that his students had handed in work at the last minute that had to be graded before Christmas break.  He knows he’s been too soft on them, but he’s always been a sucker for personal statements and reading about his students’ holiday traditions made him even more lenient than usual.

He’d shoved himself into the middle seat closest to the rear lavatory with a sheepish look on his face.  It was a six-hour flight from New York to Sacramento and he clutched his worn copy of A Christmas Carol and settled in to read it like he did every winter.  

By the time he deplanes and makes it to baggage claim, his suitcase is the only one left.  The tag is torn off but he’s already missed 8 calls from Cora and just grabs it quickly before rushing outside.

“Get in, loser!” she calls from the window of her Jeep.  “Everyone is waiting for you to decorate the tree!”

“Christmas is in like two days, and you still haven’t decorated?” Derek asks, throwing his ratty rollaway bag into the trunk.  

“Mom wanted us to all be together.  But someone had to go and move halfway across the world.”

“I like my job, Cora,” Derek says, buckling his seatbelt.  “You don’t just turn down Columbia.”

“You sound like such an East Coast snob when you say stuff like that,” she says, weaving through the crazy holiday traffic.

“And you’re my least favorite sister.”

“Ha fucking ha,” she says, narrowing her eyes.  “Your life is in my hands right now, don’t mess with me,” she adds, changing lanes just a hair too close for Derek’s comfort.

It takes a few hours but they make it back to the house in one piece and Derek can already hear the kids screaming as they pull into the drive.  It makes him smile.  He doesn’t get home as often as he should and hopes the small gifts he has packed are enough for him to keep his title as favorite uncle.

”Finally!” he hears from the front porch as he grabs his suitcase.  “I thought you’d walked here.”

His mother is just as striking as ever, just a few streaks of grey in her dark hair betraying her age.  “Sorry, Mom,” he says softly into her hair as he’s pulled into a hug.

“Uncle Derek!” someone screams as they tackle him around the knees.  “It’s pajama time!”

“I can see that!” he says, stooping down to get a hug and a kiss from Laura’s youngest.  “Give me a minute and I’ll go change.”  He waves hello to everyone else who is gathered around a bare tree and hops up the stairs to his childhood bedroom to put on his soft flannel bottoms.  Gracie had picked them out especially for him last Christmas and he made sure to pack them for the traditional pajama decorating party.

Only his pants aren’t in the bag.  In fact, none of his belongings are in the bag.  It’s not his bag at all.  

“Oh no,” he mutters, sifting through the contents.  “Who the fuck packed this?”

The suitcase is utter chaos.  There’s an assortment of wrapped Christmas gifts and scrunched up clothes but there’s also a bunch of half knitted scarves, action figures, baby toys and… are those throwing stars in that carrying case?  To cap it all off, every nook and cranny of the bag is full of loose jelly beans.  

“Oh my God,” Laura snickers from the doorway.  “Did you switch bags with a killer Easter Bunny?”

“I have no idea,” he says, pulling out a noise machine and a copy of Go the Fuck to Sleep .  

“Is that a fishing rod?” she asks, stepping forward to grab an oblong shape out of a long pocket.  “This thing is kind of cool,” she says, snapping the rod together to its full length.  “It’s like stealth fishing.”

“I need to call the airline,” Derek says, reaching for his phone.  “I had all the gifts in there.  And I don’t think I can fit in any of these clothes,” he adds, pulling out a well-worn Batman tee shirt that’s at least two sizes too small for him.  

He’s on hold for twenty minutes with Laura tapping her foot and looking at her watch before the helpline connects.  They are no help at all.  Does he know how many bags get lost during Christmas?  It’s impossible for them to match up every bag with every person and there’s nothing matching his description left at the airport.  Someone else must have taken his bag by mistake.  So sorry, happens all the time, Merry Christmas.

“Fuck!” he groans, ending the call.  “Someone else has my bag and I’ve got this… whatever this junk is.”

“We could just give the kids these and hope they’re not porn,” Laura says, chuckling as she reaches for one of the wrapped presents.  It’s Star Wars wrapping paper.  R2-D2 is wearing a Santa hat and everything.  

“You can’t do that, Laura!” Derek says, snatching the present out of her hand.  “You’re going to ruin someone’s Christmas.”

“You’re such a Tiny Tim,” Laura teases, dropping the present with a huff.  “We’ll figure it out tomorrow.  It’s getting close to bedtime for the kids and we still have to decorate and have hot chocolate.  You know how Dad is about tradition.”

“I’m coming, just…” he trails off, opening a drawer and finding nothing but old clothes from high school  “Can I borrow something from Adam?  I don’t have any pajamas to wear.”

“Sure thing, bro,” she says, leading him out of the room.

It’s wonderfully chaotic as always, and the footie Minion pajamas Derek is forced into only add to the ridiculousness of it all.  Thirteen people under one roof is always a bit crazy, but coming in late without any of his belongings has Derek feeling a bit more overwhelmed than usual.

“I don’t think you’re going to be getting your stuff back, sweetheart,” Talia says hours later as the adults share a much-needed glass of wine.  “We can do some last minute shopping tomorrow if you really want, but the kids are just happy you’re here.”

“I had a 50th Anniversary copy of The Hobbit for West,” Derek groans, rubbing at his beard.  

“And you didn’t carry it on?” Peter asks, swirling his wine with his feet up in his wife’s lap.  “It’s like you were asking for it.”

“I’ll help you see if there are any clues in the bag,” Cora says, tossing a dirty look in Peter’s direction.  

They go through everything in the bag piece by piece, sorting it into piles and collecting the jelly beans in a ziplock bag.  Without opening the presents, there aren’t a lot of clues.  The only identifying item is a ratty old Beacon Hills High Lacrosse tee shirt.  

“This looks at least five years old, maybe ten,” Cora says, holding it up to her chest.  “The underwear tells me it’s a dude, at least.”

“I don’t think I can go to the high school and ask, ‘hey I know this is a long shot but do you know whose boxers these are?  They used to go here ten years ago,’” Derek says, rolling his eyes.

“Why don’t you just open a present,” she suggests, shaking a box.  It doesn’t make any noise.  “It’s not like the guy can’t re-wrap them.”

“I don’t know,” Derek says, flopping down on his back on his old full bed.  “It feels weird and invasive.”

“Just imagine that he’s probably touching your underwear now, too.  If that makes you feel any better,” she says, poking him in the side as she drops the box back in the suitcase.

“Somehow that’s not comforting,” Derek groans, kicking out at her.  

“Why don’t you just start with one,” she says, holding up another small package.  “If that doesn’t help you can try another one.  That way you won’t ruin everything,  you big baby.”

“Okay,” Derek says, not having any better ideas.  He grabs the gift and reads the tag.  “To Scott:  Finally saw one of these come through the store and nabbed it for you.”  Derek peels back the corner of the paper and finds a Funkopop box.  Sliding through the tape and removing the paper he sees that it’s a glow in the dark White Walker.

“I have no idea,” Cora says, quickly becoming bored.  “Try the comic book store in the morning.  If they’re even open on Christmas Eve.”

Derek does exactly that.  He checks online and is standing out front of Beacon Hills Comics with a cup of coffee exactly when it opens.  

“Can I help you?” the clerk asks, eyebrows high.  Derek must not look like their typical customer in his tweed jacket and slacks.  

“I kind of found this,” he says, putting the box on the table.  “And I was wondering if you could tell me about it.”

“Seriously?” he says, eyes brightening as he carefully lifts the box.  “These are really rare.  You just found it somewhere?”

“It’s a long story,” Derek says, sighing.  “Do you know where someone might have gotten it?”

“Are you looking to sell?  Because I’ll give you $200 for it.”

“Thank you, but no,” Derek says, shaking his head.  He has no idea if that’s a fair price or not, but he’s sure as hell not selling someone else’s Christmas gift.  

“Most of the time people buy and sell these on eBay or at stores like this.  The super rare ones are only sold at like Comicon and stuff.”

“Okay…” Derek says, puzzling through the information.  “So whoever bought this is a nerd?”

“We’re all nerds,” the man says with a huff.  “This guy is a collector.  Someone serious.”

“Okay,” Derek says, reaching for the doll.  “Thanks for your help.”

“$300!” the guy calls as Derek leaves the store.

“No deal,” he says with a small smile on his face, more determined than ever.

He thinks it over while he plays Guess Who with the kids.  The more he thinks about the collection or random stuff in the suitcase, the more he thinks he might like to meet whoever owns it.

Under the watchful eye of Laura and his mother, he helps Gracie, West, Charlotte, and Milo decorate Christmas cookies, which is more of a test of patience than anything.  By the time they’re done, Derek is covered in frosting and has sprinkles stuck in his beard.  He takes a second shower before choosing another present to open.

This one is much larger than the last, but a completely ridiculous shape.  The tag reads: “To Allison: Your other gift got shipped, but I thought you’d enjoy this.  Might be fun to scare the kids with.”

Derek slips the paper off to find a headband in his hand.  There’s an arrow going through it.  He cracks up.  Who is this guy?  A magician?  An evil mastermind?  An eccentric preschool teacher?

There’s no way the headband is going to help him get anywhere, so he digs another present out of a pile of jelly beans.  This one is squishy and the tag reads: “To Melissa: No more putting it off.  It’s time for your childhood dreams to come true.  Eat your heart out, Tonya Harding.”

Inside is a pair of fur-lined mittens.  Slipped inside one of them is an envelope containing a voucher for ice skating lessons… at the Beacon Hills rink.  Smiling to himself, Derek rounds up the kids and loads them into Laura’s minivan for a fun surprise trip with Uncle Derek.

Gracie and West help the other two on with their skates while Derek speaks to the front office.  Their website is down so they’re unable to trace orders that were placed online, but they tell him that he’s welcome to schedule his first ice skating lesson now if he likes.  Derek politely declines, shaking his head.  Another dead end.

Derek laces up his own skates and steps out onto the ice, smiling as the weightless easy feeling takes over him.  He watches the kids race around the rink, screaming and laughing as they fall all over each other under the twinkling of the arena’s Christmas lights.  

Not for the first time, Derek wonders if he’ll ever have something like this, a loving partner and a couple of kids to bring home to his parents’ for the holidays.  Maybe it’s time to give online dating another try.  If there’s anyone half as interesting as the suitcase man out there, he might want to ask them for a date.

After a few hours, Derek rounds the kids back up and treats them to hot chocolate.  He sits with Milo on his lap and sings along to the Christmas carols being pumped through the tinny arena speakers with a smile on his face.  Even a bit of scalding cocoa spilled on his pants does little to dampen the spirit of the season.  

“What are you thinking about?” Gracie asks him on their way back to the car, already far too perceptive for her age.

“How things are going to be next Christmas,” he says, smiling sweetly down at her as they help the younger kids into their car seats.  “You think you’ll get another sister or brother by then?” he teases.

“I hope not.  I already heard Mom say Milo was an accident,” she stage whispers.

Derek laughs freely, making sure everyone is buckled in tight before heading back to the Hale house.  As they sit beside the fire reading The Night Before Christmas later that evening, Derek thinks about the suitcase man and who he might be spending Christmas with.

Unable to sleep from all the chocolate he’s had in the last two days, Derek stares at the ceiling at 11 p.m.  He’s no closer to finding out where his suitcase is and tomorrow is Christmas.  

One more , he tells himself, getting up and flicking the light back on.  He digs around in the suitcase until he finds the present Cora shook the night before.  

Carefully slitting the tape, Derek reveals a plain white box.  Inside, painstakingly wrapped in white tissue paper is a framed photograph.  It’s old, the colors worn and tinted orange like so many other family photos he’s seen over the years.  

A man stands next to a police cruiser, one hand leaning against the roof while the other holds tight to the leg of the young boy who’s sitting on his shoulders.  It’s shot from behind, so Derek can’t see their faces, but he knows for sure this is a special photograph.  He also knows that the little boy in the photos must be the one who went to Beacon Hills High ten years ago and filled his suitcase with jelly beans.  

He stares at the photo for a long time, tracing the lines of the car with his finger until it clicks.  This boy’s father was a local police officer.  If he was twenty years ago, maybe he still is and if not, at least someone at the station would be able to identify the car.  

Moving quickly, Derek makes sure everything is back in the suitcase before grabbing the photograph and rushing downstairs.  “Hey Peter, can I borrow your car?” he asks quietly.  Peter and his wife Savannah are curled up on the couch, Charlotte asleep between them.

“Keys are in the kitchen,” he says softly, brushing the hair out of Charlotte’s face as Savannah looks on.  Her eyes are sleepy but bright with love, it’s obvious how happy they are together.  

Derek’s heart aches as he stares for a second, caught up in the sight of something he’s not sure he’ll ever experience himself.  Shaking his head slightly, he pushes on, retrieving Peter’s keys and shoving the suitcase in the trunk.  It’s a short ride to the Sheriff’s station and Derek barely even has time to think about what he’s going to say before he’s heading inside.

“Can I help you?” the dispatcher says, barely looking up from the paperwork he’s shuffling through.

“I was wondering if you knew who was in this picture?  I think they might work here,” Derek says, holding out the frame.

The dispatcher laughs.  “That’s a good one,” he says, handing the photo back.  “Hey Sheriff!” he calls behind him.  “Someone here to see you!”

“How many times have I told you to use the intercom,” a man says, poking his head out of an office down the hall.  He’s imposing in his uniform but looks kind, blonde and tan with a coffee mug in his hand.  

“It’s a small office, Sheriff,” the man says, turning back to his paperwork.  

“Don’t I know it,” the Sheriff says, sighing as he leans his hand on the doorframe.  “That’s why we’re all working on Christmas Eve.  What can I do for you, son?” he asks, turning to Derek.

“Uhh…” Derek says, stepping forward when the Sheriff waves him over.  “I think…” he trails off again searching for the words.  “Is this you?” he asks instead, holding out the photograph.

“Wow,” he says, taking it and sitting down heavily in his desk chair.  “Where did you get this?”

“I got the wrong bag at the airport,” Derek says, watching the Sheriff’s face intently as he studies the photograph.  It’s happy, but also wistful.  It makes Derek think that while the suitcase man in the picture is probably still alive, maybe the person who took the photo isn’t.  “It was full of all this completely insane stuff, but also a few presents.  That was one of them.”

“So you’re the one who ended up with Stiles’ bag,” the Sheriff says, a smile spreading across his face as he starts to chuckle.  “He’s an odd one, my son.”

“Do you want the bag?” Derek asks, a little put out.  After all the work he put in to finding the suitcase man, he kind of wants to see it through to the end.

“I’m working the night shift tonight.  Why don’t you go to my house and give it to him?  Just don’t ring the bell or you’ll wake the baby.  If that’s not too much trouble?”

“Sure.  No problem,” Derek says, taking the photo back when it’s offered.  Knowing there’s actually a baby involved at least makes sense of half of the items in the suitcase, the others, not so much.  “Thanks, Sheriff.”

“Call me John,” the man says, holding out his hand.  “It’s 129 Woodbine Lane,” he adds, walking Derek out.  “And thanks for hunting him down.  Especially on Christmas.  It would have been a shame to lose that photo.”

“You’re welcome,” Derek says, turning toward the door.  “I’m Derek, by the way.”

“I know who you are, son,” John says, clapping him on the shoulder.  “I’ve lived here for years.  Your sister went to school with Stiles.”

“Oh,” Derek says softly.  He’s kind of struck dumb by what a small world it is, that Stiles was on the same flight as him coming home to Beacon Hills for Christmas on the same day with a bag that exactly matched his.  “I’ll get this to him.”

“Make sure he gives you a proper thank you,” John adds, waving before heading back to his office.  

Derek gets back in the car and heads over to Woodbine.  He must have run down this block a hundred times as a kid and never knew the Sheriff or his son.  Retrieving the bag from the trunk, Derek walks slowly up the front steps.  He’s thought of nothing else for the past 36 hours and yet now that he’s here he’s hesitant to knock.  

Taking a deep breath, Derek raises his hand and gives the glass a light rap.  A few seconds later the curtain flies open and a freckled face appears.  Derek waves, mouthing “hi” like Stiles has any idea who he is.  He points down at the suitcase and hopes Stiles will get the idea.

The door opens quietly and the suitcase man invites him inside.  He takes the bag from Derek’s hand and immediately opens it on the coffee table.  “I swear to God, if the Binky Bear isn’t in here, I’m going to lose my shit.”

“What?” Derek says, eyebrows flying up.  

“Binky Bear.  It’s this little stuffed bear with a nipple attached.  Have you seen it?”

“Uhh…” Derek says, getting lost for a second when he looks down to see the waistband of the man’s underwear sticking up out of his pajama bottoms.  “I think in the side pocket maybe?” he walks around the table to the other side of the suitcase and unzips a hidden pocket, revealing the bear.

“Thank fuck,” Stiles says, grabbing the bear and clutching it to his chest.  “I thought I had it in the diaper bag and then it was nowhere and I just… it was touch and go there for a while, I’m not gonna lie.  I thought she was going to eat me.”

“Your... daughter?” Derek asks, not wanting to assume anything further.

“Yeah, she’s two and when they say terrible, they mean terrible, holy fuck,” he says, flopping down on the couch, looking exhausted.  

“Ah,” Derek says, not knowing what he’s supposed to do now.  “Are you supposed to curse this much if you have a two-year-old?”

“She’s sleeping, Suitcase Man,” Stiles says, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “It doesn’t happen very often so when it does, you have to take full advantage.  You don’t have kids, do you?”

“Uhh no,” Derek says, scratching at his beard awkwardly.  “I have nieces and nephews.”

“Wait a second,” Stiles says, eyes narrowing in Derek’s direction.  “You’re Derek Hale, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” he says, shrugging his shoulders.  

“The beard threw me off for a minute but I never forget a face,” Stiles says.  “I went to school with you.  Same year as Cora.”

“She didn’t say…” Derek says, trying to string a coherent sentence together.  “I mean we saw the lacrosse shirt in the bag but we didn’t really know who it was.”

“How did you find me then?” he asks, heading to the fridge and returning with two beers, handing one to Derek.

“This,” Derek says, pulling the framed photo from the inside pocket of his coat.  “I went to the Sheriff’s station.  Met your dad.”

“That’s A+ detective work, Mr. Hale,” Stiles jokes, tipping his beer toward Derek.

“I didn’t want to open the presents, but I didn’t have much of a choice.”

“It’s alright, I’d given it up as a lost cause.  I must have your bag.  Sorry about that, by the way.  I may have rage dumped it looking for the Binky Bear.”

“That’s alright,” Derek says, mind reeling.  Stiles is without a doubt one of the most peculiar people he’s ever met.  “I have to ask though… what’s with the jelly beans?”

“Well, Derek,” Stiles says, propping his feet up on the suitcase.  It slouches him down far enough that a strip of his stomach is showing between his underwear and his Green Arrow tee shirt.  “When your ex-girlfriend shows up on your doorstep with a two-year-old and says she’d like to relinquish custody, you do just about whatever it takes to get that little baby girl potty trained.  The only thing that seems to work is jelly beans.  She inherited my penchant for junk food.  The bag popped while I was packing but I just kind of went with it.  I needed those jelly beans, Derek.”

“Huh,” Derek says, frowning.  “I was thinking magician.”

“What?” Stiles crows, practically folding himself in half as he spasms with laughter.  “What made you say magician?”

“I don’t know… the throwing stars and the scarves and the arrow headband thingy?  It was either that or super villain,” Derek says in a huff.

“I own a comic book store in New York,” Stiles says, still laughing.  “Although I might take up villainy on the side.  Sounds like a sweet gig.”

“I teach English at Columbia,” Derek says.  “Not as fun as a comic book store, I’m sure.”

“What’s your favorite book?” Stiles asks, narrowing his eyes.  “Be warned that our fledgling relationship depends on your answer.”

“Don’t ask me that,” Derek says, groaning.  “That’s not fair.  I can’t pick one book.”

“Answer the question, Mr. Hale,” Stiles says, staring him down.

Derek downs the rest of his beer before saying, “ Don Quixote ,” with a grimace.

“No shit,” Stiles says.  “I bet you’re bilingual too,” he adds rolling his eyes.  

Derek doesn’t even bother answering.  He is bilingual, but he knows Stiles is just trying to embarrass him.

“Try again.  What’s your second favorite book?”

“ Welcome to the Monkey House ,” Derek says immediately.

“Better,” Stiles says, tossing his head back and forth like he’s considering it.

“What’s your favorite book then?  If you’re going to be so judgmental about it,” Derek says, eyebrows raised.  

“ Ender’s Game ,” Stiles says.  Before Derek even has time to consider this, he shoots back, “Favorite author?”

“Neruda,” Derek says, flashing Stiles a grin.

“Poetry doesn’t count,” Stiles says.  He’s shaking his head but he’s smiling.  

“My PhD in literature begs to differ,” Derek says as Stiles hops off the couch for more beer.  He’s already feeling loose and comfortable, all awkwardness of their meeting flown out the window.

“Fine,” Stiles says, flopping back on the couch.  “Favorite band, then.”

He’s closer to Derek now, his feet practically in Derek’s lap.  There’s an easy familiarity to the gesture that makes something in Derek relax even further.  

“What is this?  A job interview?” Derek asks, laughing as he watches Stiles’ beer foam over.  

Stiles chases the spill with his tongue, licking his fingers as it drips down his hand.  “I figured it was more like speed dating,” he says once his hand is clean.  “People don’t just hunt you down over some jelly beans.  You must be something special.”

“I was… curious,” Derek says, feeling his face heat under his beard.  “Interested.”

“Well now I’m interested,” Stiles says easily, flashing him a smile.

They end up talking for hours.  Derek asks question after question, eager to find out more about the mysterious man he’s been led to by some sort of twisted Christmas miracle.  Stiles teases him mercilessly, making him laugh and blush harder than he has in years.  

Eventually, a sharp cry rings out through the baby monitor on the end table and Derek startles.  “She’s not going to go back down easy,” Stiles says, peeling himself away from Derek’s side where he’d settled the last time he’d come back from the bathroom.

“I can go,” Derek says, pointing to the door.  He glances at his watch and sees that it’s nearly 3 a.m.  

“Stay,” Stiles says, reaching for his hand.  “I have your clothes anyway.  We can talk more.  You shouldn’t drive this late at night on Christmas Eve.  Too many drunks on the road.”

Derek wants to argue, but all of that sounds perfectly reasonable to him.  “Okay,” he says, following Stiles to a bedroom that’s currently serving double duty as an office and a nursery.  

“Shh, Wonder Woman, it’s alright,” Stiles coos, reaching down into the crib for the baby girl who is standing up, clinging to the bars and screaming.  “I heard you the first time.”

Derek stares.  The girl is wearing Wonder Woman themed footie pajamas, her auburn hair curling around her tiny ears.  She has Stiles’ little upturned nose and matching freckles on her round face.  

“This is Claire,” he says, fitting the crying child against his hip like he’s been doing it for years and not just a few weeks.  “Claire, this is my new friend Derek.”

She immediately hides her face in her father’s neck and quiets down.  Stiles bounces her a few times, exiting the room and leading Derek down the hall to what must be his own childhood bedroom.  There are posters on the walls of some of the bands Stiles had mentioned and superhero paraphernalia everywhere.  

“I believe that is yours,” Stiles says, nodding to the corner where Derek’s suitcase stands.  “Put on some PJs and join us,” he adds, sitting down on the edge of the bed and patting Claire’s butt to check for leaks.  

“Thank you,” Derek says.  All his clothes and gifts are inside, still wrapped and folded the way he left them.  He pulls out his flannel pajama bottoms and ducks into the bathroom to change.

When he gets back, Stiles is lying down on the bed, Claire resting on his chest with the Binky Bear tucked into her mouth.  She’s awake and babbling nonsense around the pacifier.  Stiles speaks softly to her, “Really?  That’s so interesting!” he replies, cupping the little girl’s head.

Derek picks up a picture book off the bedside table and looks at the cover.  

“That’s her favorite, isn’t it Claire-bear?” Stiles coos, rocking her.  “It’s cute.  You should read it.”

So he does.  Derek reads through The Pout-Pout Fish three times before Claire’s eyes fall closed and she starts dozing on Stiles’ chest.  

“Hit the light,” Stiles says, yawning.  “I’m not moving her again.”

“Okay,” Derek says, like staying right now isn’t a completely absurd thing to do.  His entire family will be up in three hours ready to open presents, but right now, Derek doesn’t care. He lays down beside Stiles in the twin sized bed, close enough that he can feel Claire breathing beside him.  

“Thanks for bringing the gifts back,” Stiles says, reaching his pinky out to snag Derek’s, linking them together.

“It was a really nice picture of you and your dad,” Derek says softly, turning in toward Stiles, placing his free hand on Claire’s back to feel her breathing.  It’s just like when he first babysat Gracie except entirely different.  Being here with Stiles is like nothing he’s ever experienced before.

“My mom took it,” Stiles mutters, eyes blinking slowly.  “I found it in the attic last Christmas but it took me a while to be able to look at it.”

“She’s been gone a long time?” Derek asks, inching closer to Stiles.

“Yeah,” Stiles says, smiling sadly.  “Thanks for bringing her back to me.”

“I’m glad I found you,” Derek says, answering his smile.

“I’m glad you did, too,” Stiles says, leaning in to press his lips against Derek’s.  It’s dry and over too quick, but Derek doesn’t ask for anything more.  They fall asleep like that, curled in toward each other, pinkies linked, with Claire a solid warmth between them.

It’s 8 a.m. when a soft knock on the door wakes Derek.  When he peels his eyes open he sees the Sheriff standing in the doorway, eyes flicking between him and Claire.  He gives a small nod and leaves them be.

As quietly as he can, Derek pulls himself out of bed and grabs the handle of his suitcase.  His family is probably waiting on him to open presents.  Just as he’s thinking about whether or not it would be creepy to kiss Stiles’ cheek goodbye, the man’s eyes flash open.

“Leaving already?” Stiles asks, lips curving into a warm smile.  “I thought you might stay forever.”

Derek smiles back, reaching for Stiles’ hand.  “I might,” he says softly, knowing Stiles needs the sleep and he’ll only get it as long as Claire is still quiet.  “I know you guys probably have plans, but what would you say to dessert at my parents’ house tonight?”

“We’ll be there,” Stiles says, giving Derek a wink.  “My dad knows where you live.”

“That’s not terrifying at all,” Derek says with a small laugh, leaning in to kiss Stiles once on the mouth before grabbing his suitcase and heading back downstairs.  

“Must have been some thank you,” the Sheriff says from his seat on the couch when Derek passes him.

“Yeah,” Derek says with a sheepish smile.  He knows he didn’t do anything wrong but he still feels like a teenager getting caught with his pants down.  “I’ll see you all later for dessert,” he says, giving a quick wave and practically running from the house.  

Driving quickly, Derek gets home in a matter of minutes and throws Peter’s car in park.  He fetches his suitcase and goes around back in an attempt to sneak into the kitchen.  

“Really Derek?” Laura asks, looking up from her cup of coffee when he pads into the kitchen.  “You do a walk of shame on Christmas morning and you can’t even be bothered to come in wearing last night’s clothes like a normal person?”

“It’s not a walk of shame,” he says quickly, feeling the blush rise to his cheeks as he looks down at his flannel pajama pants.  

“Because you’re not feeling ashamed, or because nothing happened?”

“Nothing happened!” he blurts out, burying his head in a cabinet to search for a coffee mug.

“Holy shit,” he hears, seeing Cora appear in the kitchen doorway when he looks up.  “You fucked suitcase man!”

“I did not!” Derek shouts, turning his back on both his sisters as he busies himself with fixing his coffee.  “And his name is Stiles.”

“Stiles Stilinski?  That weird kid from high school who used to do bad magic tricks in the cafeteria?” Cora asks, eyebrows furrowing.

“I knew it!  I knew he did magic!” Derek exclaims.  “I’m going to kiss that smug look off his face when he gets here.”

“He’s coming for Christmas?” Laura says, eyes lighting up.  “Ohh, Derek’s got it baaaaad,” she calls.  “Do I hear the pitter-patter of little feet already?  You want to have his babies?”

“Well, actually,” Derek says, a smile crossing his face as he thinks about Claire and her Binky Bear.

“No shit,” Cora says, deadpan.  “I don’t believe it.  You and Stiles and a baby makes three?”

“Her name is Claire and they’re coming over with the Sheriff after dinner,” Derek says, taking a sip of his coffee.

“What’s this I hear about more grandchildren?” his mother calls, her steps heavy on the stairs.  

Derek groans while Laura and Cora laugh and throw mini marshmallows at him, but he can’t stop smiling.  

Hours later, when dessert is long since gone and Stiles and Derek are kissing under the mistletoe as Claire plays pet hospital with Milo, Derek thinks that maybe following the jelly beans was the smartest dumb thing he’s ever done.

[honeyrose-tea]

some questions: do you have any plans for the holidays? do you have a favorite holiday memory? favorite holiday tradition? what is your current ideal/dream gift? what is your favorite gift you have ever received? what about your favorite gift you have given? who is the best gift giver you know? do you like decorating for the holidays? if so, do you have a favorite decoration? hope you have a merry Christmas! -🌙

buckle in, this is a long one. I enjoyed writing this a lot (maybe too much...)

my plans are just to chill with my family (which for me is just my parents). tonight we did a big dinner and opened our family gifts, tomorrow we'll do our stockings. in lieu of our usual christmas day visit to my mom's side of the family, my aunt had everyone draw a name virtually and send a gift via amazon to that person. tomorrow at 3, the whole family is gonna get on a zoom call together and open our secret santa gifts in front of the family. I'm really excited for it. normally we would see my dad's side at some point, usually the weekend before christmas, but this year we decided to cancel altogether. we did, however, go give gifts yesterday to my aunt, uncle, cousins, and my grandad who is currently living with them- outside and socially distanced with masks on of course. I also met a friend in the park- despite it being way too cold for a park date- and we hung out (masked and spread out) and exchanged our gifts for each other yesterday. the final holiday activity for me is gonna be my post-christmas ordering spree, where I'll use the money and gift cards I got from relatives to buy some of the stuff I didn't get gifted from my christmas list. this year's will be less fun stuff and more boring householdy things (I'm literally planning on buying socks, the most old lady christmas gift ever) but I'm excited nonetheless. after christmas and new year's it'll be time to prep for spring semester!

my favorite memories are kinda tied up in my favorite traditions, so I'll make this answer a two-for-one special! a tradition from childhood was going to christmas eve service at the church I grew up in. I loved getting dressed up and I especially enjoyed the candle-lighting portion at the end. the church we go to now (which was planted by the former associate pastor at my childhood church) is much more modern and we don't have christmas eve service. I don't miss it terribly, but I do look back on it fondly.

I have a lot of memories associated with family, and honestly that will always be the most important thing to me at the holidays. I've never been overly materialistic and to me the presents are just gravy, I could take or leave them. so to that end, most of my special memories involve family. my two living grandparents are my mammaw (mom's mom) and my grandad (dad's dad). they get on well with each other and they usually both join us for christmas eve dinner. my mom sets out our beautiful ivy-patterned dishes and we use our actual silver silverware and we all just have a nice family meal. I especially miss them this year.

not to be all mariah carey "all I want for christmas is you", but my dream gift is also kinda wrapped up in the notion of loving my relationships more than physical presents. I've always wished for some kind of romantic gesture or just a special person to spend christmas with. I've had my flings and such but they all start in spring/summer and never last to christmas. for me, all the good things happen in fall/winter- my birthday, thanksgiving, christmas, new years, etc.- and for as long as I can remember I've loved the idea of a significant other to share the holidays with me and my family. plus nothing gets me in the holiday spirit more than having someone to spoil, and though I love my parents dearly, it's definitely not the same as with an s/o. despite the fact he hates gifts, I made sure not to delete the list of birthday/christmas gifts I made for Eli while we were together over the summer even after the breakup, just in case. I know everyone will think that's stupid and say I should move on, but that's just how I am. I don't give up on people that matter to me. I know how it feels to be given up on, and I promised myself I wouldn't do that to someone else. anyway, back to christmas

my favorite gift from recent years would probably be my record player, which I use the hell out of. honorable mention is my weighted blanket, which I also love and use constantly. both big ticket items, and both given by my parents, who are excellent gift-givers.

as terrible as it sounds, I don't remember much about the gifts I've given. I always enjoy the reactions of my family, especially my parents, but I think after that the gifts just become common household items. I think the real spark is in the moment they're received, and that the memory of someone's joy will always outlive the memory of the gift, or even the material item itself. which is a fancy way of saying I have a very bad memory

my parents are definitely great gift-givers, especially my dad, and I like to think I inherited his talent for it. but my parents have kind of an automatic advantage when buying gifts because they spend a lot of time with me and hear me say exactly what I want, so I'm gonna disqualify them from the gift-giving contest. the best gifters are far and away this sweet couple whose kids I babysit. both the husband and wife are super kind to me and they have a bit of an older sibling role in my life, in that they're wiser than me and give me advice but are also a lot younger (and thus, more relatable) than my parents. I've watched their oldest (Hope) since she was a newborn, and when their second daughter (Elsie, which also happens to be the name of my maternal great-grandmother) was born I watched her too. Elsie just turned three and Hope (who has always reminded my parents of me, even in her infancy) will be eight in april. I love them like my own babies, and much of the reason their parents have always liked me is because I dote on the girls so much. for my birthday this year they bought me a record I'd been wanting, and over the years they've gotten me books, handmade soap, blankets, and more stuff that just generally fits my vibe, without having to ask for a list. they just kinda know. and bonus, they always send a video of the girls singing happy birthday and pictures of them in front of the christmas tree.

I don't usually get to assist in decorating for the holidays because my mom decorates our house before I get back for winter break. I do enjoy helping though, and I did when I lived at home full-time before college. I don't really have a favorite item anymore I suppose. I loved our big family christmas tree that we had when I was a kid, I remember it being as wide as I was tall and just really big and full. my mom is a huge ornament person and she gets one every place we visit- not just special trips, literally everywhere. even with how huge our tree was it was still packed. as soon as the tree was lit the first time it wouldn't get turned off- that's our family policy for whatever reason. so any time you'd get up in the middle of the night or stay up late and walk out into the living room, you'd be greeted by that soft warm golden glow of the lights. I'll always remember how peaceful it was to stare at that lit-up tree on calm quiet nights. the tree eventually got old and would shed too many pine needles to be worth the trouble, so my parents bought a new tree a few years back. I still maintain that the new one is the ugliest, scrappiest, scrawniest tree in the world, but I will admit it gets the job done. before it's decorated you can see straight through the branches to the other side but the ornaments do help fill it out a little. still, I have a special spot in my heart for our big old christmas tree, and that'll probably always be my favorite decoration

thank you for the ask, pen pal. I know I say this a lot but you're so good at coming up with thought-provoking questions. I hope you're having a wonderful holiday too, and I thank you again for all your kindness and your genuine interest in me. it means more than my lackluster grasp of the english language will allow me to convey to you. as always, I would love to hear anything you want to share, holiday-related or otherwise. best holiday wishes from me, I'll talk to you soon❤️

[liw-the-melancholic-apple]

How it may have gone - Humble Beginnings

A fic taking place in the marauders era. While the political climate seems to head to a conflict, James, Sirius, Remus and Peter are still just teenagers. Dealing with typical teenage problems.

But this year their little group grows. Who would have known that more prefects would be a good thing?

Masterlist

Seven: New Year's Eve II

I slept in the next morning and called the Crickets right after breakfast. Mrs Cricket told me that Crick had lost his phone privileges and that he was also grounded. That did not sound good for our plans. I kindly asked if she knew whether she and her husband would still be mad at New Year’s Eve, and through a chuckle she said that they didn’t know yet. She did tell me that I didn’t need to worry too much, but she couldn’t make any promises. 

I relayed that information to Potter in a quick note, in which I also told him and the other boys that most of my plans had been cancelled but his answer that came only fifteen minutes later only told me to keep him up to date. No mention of any kind of invitation to join them in their shenanigans. Something about his note was off, I thought. It was funny and polite but it seemed to … correct. I wondered if I had offended him by getting involved in his argument the other night. Milla, whose owl arrived that afternoon, would’ve probably known whether I had stepped on his toes but I didn’t want to burden her with my petty problems while she was on “the best holiday ever”. Instead I asked her what she had gotten Remus for Christmas. 

That evening I mostly spent on the couch with my parents and Felix. 

The next three days were rather uneventful. After deciding that the dress I had worn to Slughorn’s Christmas party and on Christmas Eve at my grandparents would probably get ruined at a noisy and messy pub I had organised some jeans, a skirt and several t-shirts and jackets on my bed to figure out my outfit for New Year’s.  As I couldn’t decide at all those clothes just travelled from my bed to my little armchair and back every day. 

We fell into the routine of having breakfast together, playing board games – Felix won every single one of them – and watching a lot of TV. As much as I loved my family, I’d had better Christmas breaks. Milla’s letters informed me about the fact that none of the boys she’d met in Austria came even close to Remus and that she had gotten him all kinds of chocolate, a snow globe and a warm, woolly cardigan in his favourite colour.  

She wasn’t sure whether he’d be offended at that because most of his clothes were fairly old and distressed. I wrote back saying that a cardigan was a cardigan and his favourite colour was a good choice. Besides, I thought but didn’t put down on paper, he had blushed at the mention of her gift and smiled. I reckoned he was rather touched by her spending some money on something he liked and needed rather than just getting him the goofy snow globe. It was high time those two had a heart to heart and got their feelings out there. They’d be a great couple. 

I told myself that the boys had planned this holiday as an elongated boys’ night and didn’t that I’d only be in the way if they had invited me. Especially, if they planned any more “normal Tuesdays’. 

The morning of the 31st I moved my clothes back onto the back, stared at them for a bit, was uninspired and decided that it wasn’t too early to call Crick and ask if he was going to the party with me. 

“Cricket” 

“Jonas?” 

“The very same. That you, Jette? 

“ Indeed it is. I was wondering whether your brother got his phone privileges back.” 

“Guess, you don’t mean Tristan?” He laughed. 

“I was thinking of Crick.” 

“Well, he’s out with Dad and I don’t know when he’ll be back. But I would be willing to take a message.” 

“Oh, would you just have him call me back? My parents only agreed to let me go to that party because he was going to walk me there and back. If he doesn’t get to go I need to come up with a plan B.” 

“I see. Mum?...Mum!...”It’s Jette on the phone. She wants to know whether Nate goes to the Raven tonight…He’s supposed to walk her home…Right, mum. She’s fifteen…uhu…hmh…thanks! 

Mum says she and Dad talked about it and they’ll let him go but he doesn’t know yet. He’ll probably call you this afternoon and you’re supposed to act very delighted. But there’s no need for a plan B.” 

“Tell your parents, they’re the best, yeah? And thanks for getting that done for me.” 

“Anytime. See you tonight, then?” 

“Tonight. Bye. 

“Bye.” 

I hung up the phone and skipped back to my room to write to Godric’s Hollow. It was a quick, barely legible letter in which I mainly stated that I didn’t need to make use of Potter’s kind offer. I could have told them a whole lot more and asked when exactly they planned to show up at the pub but since they hadn’t reached out to me, I didn’t really feel like it. 

Crick called somewhere around four in the afternoon and told me he was allowed to go to the Raven. As instructed I reacted with delight and we made plans. I would walk over to Crick’s around nine o’clock and then we’d take the pathway to the pub. The Crickets lived at the very edge of Marlowe’s Creek, closest to Godric’s Hollow, but the walk would still take us at least half an hour. We had briefly thought about going earlier but we both figured there was no reason to arrive hours before midnight. 

After everything was organised I ran back into my room and chugged the skirt back into its drawer. Thirty minutes – or more – in a snowy December night was not calling for skirts and tights. The rest of my legwear options were all very similar: Jeans in various shades of black and grey. In the end I opted for black and decided to wear my new charcoal grey “The Who’- shirt that one of my cousins had given me for Christmas. I would pretend to be cool, rather than pretty tonight. I put the rest of the clothes back in the various drawers and cupboards and waited for it to be time to go to my first real New Year’s Eve party. 

It took forever until mum called us for dinner. In honour of dad’s Dutch family she usually made appleflap for a midnight snack. It was one of the best variations on donuts anybody had ever thought of. Baked apples and donuts and powdered sugar. Since I wasn’t going to be home to wish them all a happy new year and munch down on way too many appleflaps she had decided to fry them in advance and serve them as dessert which I was chuffed about. After we were done eating and chatting and eating some more I got dressed, packed my back and spent quite some time in the bathroom to deal with my hair and face. 

I looked at myself in the mirror. Usually I never wore my hair down. It was always crafted into a fairly impressive bun on the top of my head to not be in the way. Now, that I looked at my hip-long dark brown locks, all brushed and shiny I thought that it would add a little umph to me if I had hair to swing around. A high ponytail it was. 

And to that I added my usual make-up of mascara and dark lipstick, though I went for a dark maroonish red instead of brown. The result made me rather proud. I looked old enough to go out on New Year’s Eve. I looked cool.  

“Don’t you dare go home without Nate, you hear me. I know that you’re responsible enough to not get in trouble but I don’t trust any drunken teenagers or twenty-somethings”, mum said for the third time. 

“Why would I go home without him. It’s a pretty boring walk.” 

“She’s just worried, cause you’re growing up. Cut her some slag, kid”, dad chuckled, while hugging me. “You look very nice. Don’t drive those boys too crazy, huh.” We both laughed, while Felix rolled his eyes and mum got flustered. 

“Don’t give her ideas, Wim!” 

“She’s allowed to have fun, right? Calm down, honey, all will be well.” He kissed her on the top of her head and pulled her to his side. I hugged Felix one last time and promised I’d made sure to wish everybody a happy new year from him, waved at my parents and quickly ran out the door, just in case mum changed her mind last minute. 

Generally, it took about ten to fifteen minutes to get to Crick’s house and generally, it didn’t bother me but the wind was fairly icy and the coat I had chosen to wear was not necessarily made for winter. But it looked great. When I finally rang the doorbell at the Crickets’ I was already shaking. 

Mrs Cricket opened and gave me on of her hyper-happy smiles before pulling me into a hug and the house, leading me into the livingroom. 

“Run! She’s gone absolutely mental!”, Crick yelled before we had even entered the room and tried to pull me right back to the door. 

“No way to speak to your mother, young man. Not after she was generous enough to let you go to a party with alcohol after what you did last time you saw beer.” 

“Can’t we at least agree that you overreact a little?”, Crick asked with a pained reaction. On the couch to our right I saw Tristan, Alanna and Jonas laughing behind their hands, trying hard not to make any sounds. I tried to silently ask them what was going on, but they all just shook their heads. 

“Now, I’m sure Jette won’t mind me taking a few pictures. To commemorate your first big party.” 

“Uhhmm… okay?” This I had not expected.  

“Why would we need to commemorate this?” The couch erupted in laughter. 

“Oh shut up, you!”, Mrs Cricket chuckled and went to fetch her camera. 

“Ugh!”, moaned Crick and sank into a chair. “This has been going on all day. She’s gone mental, I tell you.” I took off my jacket and sat down. 

“Why are you so happy?” 

“Because this has been going on all day. Since you called this morning to ask whether you should go with someone else mum’s been all flustered”, Tristan explained. 

“I think she’s rather proud that your parents trust Nate this much. And maybe she has a slight case of empty-nest-syndrome. None of us had to take pictures when we first spent New Year’s somewhere else”, Jonas chipped in. 

“She’s so cute!”, giggled Alanna. 

“It’s not cute, Al. It’s annoying and frustrating and takes up a lot of time”, Crick hissed when his mother returned. 

“There we are, lovelies. Won’t take long. Now, how about one picture of you alone, Nate, and one of Jette alone and one of you together and one with Jonas. He’s going, too, after all.” 

“Why do you need four pictures of us not doing anything?”, Crick whined, while the sofa had gone back to stifling laughter. 

“Don’t be a spoilsport! The longer you argue, the longer you’ll stay here…” 

“Ugh, fine!” Crick got up and stood in front of the decorated window, not looking happy. 

“Come on, smile!” 

“Mum!” 

“Smile for me, Nathan.” Crick pulled his face into a weird grimace and his mother snapped a shot. Then, she waved me and Jonas to join Crick, she took another picture and in the end she took one of me alone, in which I was very uncomfortable and understood Crick’s irritation. This was not necessary and pretty strange. 

“See, that wasn’t so bad. Now come here, I’ll give you a warming charm.” 

“Brilliant idea, Mrs Cricket. Thank you!”, I cheered while she waved her wand over me. We both put on our jackets, wished the giggling sofa and a grinning Mr Cricket a happy new year and left. 

“I’m sorry, Libby, I don’t know what got into her”, Crick started as soon as we had reached the street. 

“No big deal.” 

“Still…I’ve already made an arse out of myself once this week I didn’t need another round of humiliation.” 

“You’re mum is the sweetest. No need to be humiliated.” 

“Tristan said your night was pretty eventful after I left.” 

“Well, yeah, Potter got into it with a troll of a muggle. Thought they’d throw punches but he managed to talk the idiot down.” 

“Did he seriously snog some 21-year old?” 

“I didn’t ask her how old she was. But yeah.” He nodded and trotted in silence. 

“Did they make a lot of fun of me?”, Crick asked after a few minutes. 

“Fun of you?” 

“For getting pissed to the point of no return before eight.” 

“No. They didn’t make fun of you.” 

“Please! It’s their job to badmouth others!” 

“I will never understand why you can’t stand them. Potter said he had expected you to last longer and that it was a weak outing. The others agreed. That was it. Nobody laughed at you, nobody made fun of you.” 

“Weak outing, huh. D’you think that, too?” 

“No… I was just confused by it. And worried. Didn’t seem like you.” 

“Worried? You were worried about me?” 

“Yes, I was. When Tristan came back and said he’d take you home, I figured you felt pretty miserable. And you’re parents would be fairly mad, So, I worried.” 

“Hmmhmm” 

The question why he had gotten so sloshed burnt on the tip of my tongue but I didn’t know how to ask it. 

“Jonas said you were drowning your sorrows that night.” No reaction he just looked at the snow covered path that led us through a field. A little to our right was the forest, right to our left the creek. 

“I didn’t know you were unhappy. You okay? Anything I can do?” He smiled. 

“No, everything’s fine. I was just…the group was…and…” He stopped, took a moment and started again. “I might have been thinking that the Market was our thing. You, me, Tristan, Jonas and Milla. We didn’t even let Felix come. But Alanna got herself invited and then there was dancing and then Potter, Black, Lupin and Pettigrew tagged along.” 

“So, what?” 

“It’s our thing, Jette! Without us going to the market it’s not really Christmas.” 

“I know! But it doesn’t have to be exactly the same every year, does it? I mean Alanna and Tristan seem serious and very slowly approach appropriate wedding-age. She might end up a part of your family, why not have her join in on the traditions. And the dancing is just as much an addition as the beer tent or the rum-spritzed hot chocolate. If nothing ever changed or evolved we’d end up at the merry-go-round every year.” I smiled at him. 

“To be honest I’d love it if in like twenty years we’d still do this after the holidays. Each of us with the husbands and wives, children of our own… You can’t expect it to be the same forever.” 

“I’m not expecting it to be the same forever. And I’m fine with wives and husbands joining in.” 

“But?” 

“But Potter and his friends are not wives and husbands.” 

“You’re not seriously telling me that you drank yourself off your trolley because those blokes were there?” 

“I didn’t plan to throw up!” 

“I know”, I whispered. Shouldn’t have brought it up.  

“Point is, I made an arse out myself over nothing, and I’m not feeling too good about it. And it didn’t help that I imagined all of you pissing yourselves laughing over how dumb I’ve been.” 

“We didn’t do that.” 

“Thanks.” He put his arm around my shoulder and kissed the top of my head like he always did. “Now, let’s talk about something more fun.” 

“Have you heard any further details on Jonas’ little vamp from that night?” I looked up at him in pure excitement. 

“You mean Valerie?” 

“I don’t know, do I?” 

“Think you do.” 

Apparently, Valerie was a Ravenclaw whose grandparents lived in Godric’s Hollow and who had had an eye on Jonas for a while. She stayed with her grandparents for the entire holidays  and was friends with a friend of a friend’s of Jonas’ which meant that they would run into each other at the preparty that they both went to. 

I asked whether Crick thought that it would get serious between the two of them but he shook his head. In his mind Jonas was still very much under Elaine’s spell. 

“He’s talked about her over the holidays. Tried to make it sound casual but it wasn’t. She’s really done it to him.”  

We tried to think up an elaborate scheme to get Jonas and Elaine together and were pretty surprised when we found ourselves in front of Morgana’s Raven.  

The music was pumping through the air, vibrating the ground and entering my body. Some people stood in the shadows smoking and drinking all kinds of potion looking drinks. We looked at each other and Crick gave me a knowing grin. 

“Have at it then. One quick cigarette.” 

“That’s why you’re the best!”, I grinned back at him and found a spot under the little pavilion next to the entrance. I lit my smoke and looked around. I had only ever seen the Raven when it was closed during the day, this was the first time I got to actually experience it. And an experience it was. 

The building itself had probably been built in the 1800s, white with brown beams and the big sign over the double door reading Morgana’s Raven in black gothic letters, two ravens at both sides. There were statues and images of ravens all over the little front garden that also had three tables with benches around them and a bar table. I spotted some giant kibbles next to the doors and figured that they had flowers or other plants in them during the spring and summer months. 

The tables, benches, pavilion and doors were all black as the night and gave the whole building – despite the white walls – a spooky and haunted vibe. I loved it. The fact that it was an all magical pub and invisible to muggles only made it all more important, cool and exclusive. 

Crick watched me watch the place and laughing people with a vague smile. 

“You look amazing by the way. Love your hair like that”, he said in a soft voice when I was done taking in all the impressions. I felt myself blushing. I never blushed. 

“Thanks…” I looked him up and down. He had cut his hair again and wore a black dress shirt with blue jeans under his winter coat. 

“You look quite dapper yourself, if I may say so”, I regained my emotional balance, smiling up at him. 

“I hoped you’d be impressed.” 

“And impressed I am. Wanna go in?”  

“Yeah, let’s do i…” 

“Oi, Goods! Mind if we join?” A group of four approached us, cigarettes in hand. 

Remus was the first to pull me into a short hug, then the rest followed.  

“Cricket!”, Remus shook Crick’s hand. 

“Glad to hear you got to come. My parents would have grounded me for ages… How bad was it?”, Pettigrew said while shaking Crick’s hand. Crick didn’t seem all too happy to see them but was surprised by their genuine approach. 

“I was grounded all week. No phone. No TV. No fun. Mum told me this morning that I could go.” 

“So, de Witt said”, Potter answered. “Wait, no fun? I thought de Witt was supposed to hang out with you every day.” 

“That was the plan. But I kind or ruined that by getting smashed…” 

“So, what have you been doing the past couple of days” Black looked at me. 

“Oh you know, enjoyed the time with my family, tidied my room, organised Christmas presents…” 

“Why didn’t you tell us you had nobody to go to? Could’ve come over to ours”, Potter asked with the most confused face I had ever seen on him. 

“Euhm… I thought you were mad at me for interfering in you fight… Dunno…Didn’t want to make you any angrier…” 

„Mad at you?“ 

„You got involved in a fight?!“ Crick stared at me in utter shock. 

“No”, Black answered for me “James here got into a fight and Goods defended him.” 

We quickly told Crick the whole story about the giant man and his cheating girlfriend. 

“Thanks, man”, Crick said, one hand on Potter’s shoulder. 

“Come again?” 

“For making sure she didn’t get herself in any trouble. I appreciate it.” 

“Sure.” Potter turned to me. “Why on earth did you think I’d be angry?” 

“Just.. your letter seemed so… polite. I didn’t trust it…” 

“And you hate pissing people of which means that you always assume you do”, Crick added. All the boys chuckled for a second. 

“Look we’ve crashed your traditions last time already”, Black said throwing his fag to the ground and stepping on it. “Won’t do that again. Find us at midnight, yeah?” He waved his friends to follow him and they all went inside. 

“See, there not at all bad.” 

“Guess so. They didn’t invite themselves to tag along all night. And anybody who keeps you from getting slapped is a good person in my book.” 

“You do realise I can look after myself?” 

“Yeah, yeah…” 

He pulled me by the hood of my coat and led me to the double doors to finally get to the party we had both been looking forward to for weeks. 

The inside of the raven was even better than the outside. The whole place was covered in knee high fog that I suspected was conjured with the help of a well-executed sculptile charm. For all I could tell the floor was made of black marble, there were no windows, they had real crows and ravens flying all over the place in the high ceiling that was completely covered in black satin. The walls displayed different paintings and renderings of Morgana, Merlin, Avalon and Excalibur, the first goblin sword that was ever kept by wizards and – if I remembered correctly – one of the reasons for the goblin riots. 

The room was gigantic and hexagon shaped, a bar at every other wall. Directly opposite the double door we had just come through a silver podium had been erected on which a band played live music. I had to do a double take but it really was Baba Yaga. One of the hottest new wizarding bands of this year.  

Crick and I both squealed at the idea that we would see them live before we remembered that we were very cool teenagers that went to concerts of popular bands all the time. 

“Tickets!” A woman roughly the age of my parents stood next to the door and held out her hand. We put our tickets in it, she took out her wand and mumbled something, then a silver raven appeared on both our left wrists. 

“Have fun!” The woman smiled a lot wider and warmer than I had expected and pushed us into the room, to let the next group of people in.  

Despite the 100 or 200 people in the room it wasn’t hot, but warm enough to want out of the jackets. We through them in the pile on one of the window sills and let the crowd sent us to one of the bars. 

“Fancy anything in particular”, Crick yelled in my ear over the music. I studied the menu that was written out in silver chalk on a huge blackboard. They had the typical wizarding drinks like Fire Whiskey, Giggle Water and Butterbeer. But I also spotted my mum’s favourite drink: Daisy draught and several kinds of mead that were all listed above an array of cocktails I had never heard of before. 

“Think I’ll have the Daisy Draught”, I finally said. 

“Like mother like daughter”, Crick laughed and ordered the draught for me and a Raven Mead for himself. I was going through my handbag to get the 15 sickles I owed him but he wouldn’t take them.  

“My treat”, he said. “Cause I left you alone all this time.” 

Drink in hand we fought our way through the crowd and to the stage where Baba Yaga now performed their number one hit Soul Eater and we went absolutely crazy. 

Jonas and his friends – among which vamp Valerie – arrived roughly an hour after us, positively inebriated and up for a good time. Jonas instantly found us and forced us to follow him to the bar where he treated us to shots of Gigglewater and a Glass of Master’s Brew each. It tasted like a holiday in Tahiti and I decided to never have more than one of those. The alcohol was not detectable although the menu informed me that there was rum, firewhiskey, gillywater and gold leave brandy in it. This was one of those drinks that my dad referred to as dangerously unsuspicious and headache inducing. But it was so good. 

Jonas introduced us to his friends, some of which I knew from my own common room or the great hall and some of which I had never seen before. Valerie was the sweetest girl I had ever met which absolutely clashed with her mysterious ‘come-hither’- appearance. She was just a year older than me and told me how jealous she was that I got to spend my time with so many gorgeous boys. 

“First you grow up with all the Cricket boys and get to be the apple of their eye – from all I hear – and then you work your way into that group around Potter. Please, tell me you’ve snogged at least one of them!” I admitted that I hadn’t and hadn’t even thought about it which led Valerie to hit her head against the wooden bar top. 

“How is that even possible? Do you have eyes?” 

“I do. And they work fine.” 

“Are you into girls? I mean those girlfriends of you don’t look too shabby either.” 

“Nope, not into girls. I used to have a crush on Crick when I was in second or third year but that’s been over forever.” 

“Which one’s Crick?” 

“Nathaniel. Nate. You probably have classes with him, right?” 

“Right, right… Why don’t you call him Nate?” 

I explained to her that Milla had a phase when she was about four or five years old where she would refer to everybody by their last names. She herself had become Scibbyderson, I was Devit and Crick became Crick. Why only his botched last name stuck as a nickname I didn’t know but it was how he’d gotten it. 

Valerie leaned in even closer and yanked my ear to her mouth. “You know Jonas well, yeah?” 

“I guess…” 

“You think I have a chance with him?” 

“Didn’t you already take him home? I’d say that constitutes… 

“”I mean in the long run”, she interrupted me. I bit my lip. 

“Honestly, that’s not the kind of stuff I talk to him about. I reckon Crick might know, but it’s most likely that Jonas takes Tristan as his confidant. Sorry.” 

“It’s just that I think he doesn’t fancy me. He doesn’t seem interested in me.” 

As if he’d heard us talk about him Jonas threw one arm around each of us. 

“Ladies! Time to dance dance dance! Let’s not waste the last fifteen minutes of this year standing at a bar sipping stale drinks and talking about nail polish” we both shot very disapproving looks at him “let’s spend it laughing and twirling and shouting and celebrating.” 

He dragged us into the middle of the dance floor where we also found Crick and the rest of Jonas’ group who all instantly welcomed us in their little circle. Given that I had never talked to any of these people aside form Jonas and Crick I felt surprisingly at home. Older students didn’t necessarily give younger ones the time of day, so I their welcoming manner was baffling at first, but then I realised that I had spent most of this school year with older students – either Crick, Magnus and Toby or the Potter-posse and realised that maybe I had just let down my guard and was more approachable. 

About two minutes before midnight Crick took my hand and followed the moving crowd outside. I had neither an idea where my jacket was nor time to grab it and the cold December air hit me like a wall of ice. But I didn’t complain. The flyers for the party had advertised “the biggest firework display in the history of Morgana’s Raven, sponsored by Dr Filibuster’s Fabulous Fireworks” and I really didn’t want to miss that. 

In the last minute before midnight the lady who had taken our tickets conjured a giant grandfather clock, made out of silver, encrusted with Ravens and knights from the round table to let us all count down together. I reached for my cigarette case and inhaled the last smoke of this year. Crick noticed my shaking and put an arm around me. 

“10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1… Happy New Year!”  

Light and colours and explosions everywhere around me. I turned to hug Crick and wish him a happy new year to then enjoy what had to be the grandest firework extravaganza ever and then everything went wrong. 

[artificialqueens]

Never Too Old Chapter 2 (Biadore) - China

AN: I know I didn’t get much notes but it doesn’t matter. But I do appreciate that some already like my story, so thank you. A little note though, I made some of the situations up, so some really did happen and some didn’t. I do like to stay true to the actual events of these queens’ lives but like I said, some aren’t real. But i hope you guys enjoy the next chapter :)

TW: light depression and breaking down

November 29, 2016, 4:20 PM

The three friends decided to have coffee in a small café just around the corner from Roy’s apartment. Roy and Shane talking inside the café while Danny is sitting outside finishing his cigarette. Shane decided to call Dan to join them, he arrived moments later and sat with them. Danny gave him a wave and Roy just smiled at him. They have been together in the same season but Roy isn’t comfortable having people outside their circle join them. But he can see that Shane was really into him and that Dan was showing the same feelings, so he decided to be nice. Plus Dan wasn’t mean, he was a really kind guy who was over six feet tall with a weird taste in drag.

It was already winter there but it hasn’t snowed much, yet it was cold enough for Danny and he enjoyed it. He took a long drag from his cigarette and puffed out slowly. He looked inside the café and all he could get a good look at was Roy; since Dan and Shane were all over each other and Roy obviously backed away from that, Danny got to see him more. Danny smiled to himself, he thinks this small crush on Roy isn’t gonna last but hopefully it doesn’t make things awkward for the both of them. Danny is well aware on what happened to Roy and Jason and he feels bad about it. He kept apologizing to Roy and even cried in front of him. Danny could remember that night, they were at a club and Roy went up to him and said Jason broke up with him. Roy wasn’t crying, he wasn’t angry or happy; his face looked very neutral but that made Danny worry because he didn’t want to ruin Roy’s relationship.

Danny took another drag of his cigarette and killed it on the ashtray, thinking of what happened during those days were already too heavy on him. He unlocked his phone and checked the calendar. He finally smiled at himself, knowing his plan for the holiday will be the best idea he’s had in awhile. Part of him is going for this because he wants to have a vacation and the other part is for Roy, so he’s hoping that Roy would agree.

Inside the café, Roy was listening to Dan’s stories on his journey to different countries doing charity and all. Roy can really see how smitten Shane was with the tall man. Roy couldn’t really tell if he could trust this relationship since Shane has been with tons of men. His attention over Dan didn’t last long, he leaned his chin on his hand and looked outside, his eyes finding Danny immediately. Danny was sitting outside, his breath can be seen wafting in the cold breeze. His body snugged up in his jacket, his tussled hair kept under a thick bonnet and his nice long legs in skinny jeans. Danny was beautiful to Roy; the way he showed emotions, the way his voice sounds when he laughs and makes silly noises. Sometimes Roy tries to remember the feeling of being 27 years old again, he knows that if he was that age again in the present he would have done much more and make the most out of his youth.

But this is Roy, 41 years old, very seasoned and slowly becoming weak. Despite of this he loves being with Danny and Shane because they would always make him feel young again.

He looked at where Danny was sitting again, but Danny left the seat. Roy’s head gently popped up and he started looking for the younger man. He couldn’t find Danny in the store and outside, he had half the mind to stand up and check outside to see if he left. Roy is worried Danny had another break down and ran for it. But before he could look back at Shane he felt a cold arm wrap around his neck, Danny’s face was inches away from Roy’s. Roy felt his mouth run dry, seeing his green eyes lazily looking at him and his thick lips curling perfectly to a smile. Danny gave a small chuckle and sat next to Roy, Shane subtly giving the two a look.

“I went to the bathroom. Don’t get your panties in a knot, Roy.” Danny said, giving him a teasing look. Roy just chuckled and looked at his cup of tea.

“Don’t get too cocky, Chola. I just thought you ran off again or something.” Roy answered back, he drank the rest of the tea, his eyes still on Danny.

Danny gave a smile, he thought to himself that it was about time. He sat straight and leaned towards Roy and Shane. “Okay, so we have no idea what to do for the whole month, right? Since Roy has his break, plus you and me,” He pointed at himself and Shane, “We don’t have anything to do till January.”

Shane untangled his hands from Dan and leaned towards Danny as well. “Okay so what do you suggest we do?”

Danny gave a big smile at his friends and got his phone out of his pocket. “I was thinking we do a road trip!” He couldn’t contain himself when he finally said it.

Roy looked at Shane and gave an approving nod. “I like that. Sounds fun. But to where?”

“I was thinking we drive to Azusa.” He raised his hand to his friends before they could argue. “I know you guys might think we can go on plane. But where’s the fun in that? I did my research after lunch and it takes around 41 hours to get there. There’s a route I chose going there too and there’s so much to see if we took it. We can squeeze the whole trip within the month. If we arrive to my place before like, Christmas, then we can stay at my house till New Years and just drive back after. What do you think?”

“I’m okay with this actually. I think this is really fun, and adventurous.” Shane smiled. He looked at Dan and back at Danny. “Can Dan go with?”

“Of course he can!” Danny said. He looked at Roy who was quiet for a bit. “What about you, Roy? You like this idea?”

“Actually, I do. I haven’t been on a road trip in years. I think this is the best way I can spend my break. Plus are we gonna take the route passing Pennsylvania? Cause Aaron and Willam are there for the holidays as well, we can meet up with them?” Danny gave him a nod while drinking the rest of Shane’s coffee.

“That’s great! I mean, I would love to see them.” Shane said. Danny and him were nodding at each other. “You okay with going, Dan?”

Dan wrapped his arm around Shane and smiled at everyone. “Yeah I would love to go. If anything I can help with lodging and gas money. But whose car are we taking?”

“I inquired at this car rental place and they have a Camry available so we can take that.” Danny said.

“Wow, you really did your research. Very impressive Danny.” Roy said. “So we’ll just leave the itinerary to you? I can be the one to pay for the rent for the car and others.” Danny smiled at Roy. Roy felt a tingling sensation in his chest and couldn’t help but smile back at Danny.

Shane started checking his phone. “I can help Danny with the itinerary. I might know some places we can stay in. But I need to know the states were passing through.”

“I’ll give you the details on that when we head back to Roy’s apartment.” Danny said.

“Okay, well it’s almost dinner time, so let’s all discuss this further over dinner?” Roy said reaching for his back pocket to get his wallet. Shane and Dan did the same and gave Roy their share of the coffee. Danny reached the pocket of his jacket and handed his money to Roy, since Danny’s knows that Roy is better with handling with the bill than anyone else.

The four decided to walk back to Roy’s apartment, Dan and Shane holding hands and whispering to each other while Roy and Danny walking silently behind them. Danny said a few words to Roy about the planned road trip, he can tell Danny was excited. Roy knows he is, he knows Danny that way, he would be spending the holidays with friends and also with his mother.

Roy knows Bonnie is a very kind and hospitable person, so she wouldn’t mind if Roy and Shane come to visit as well. Bonnie lives alone with her boyfriend, Jerry, having Danny around is always a good thing for her. Danny already called her up about their plans to drive there. At first she was hesitant since it’s a 41 hour drive to their hometown but Danny assured her that they were going to be safe and that it was for Roy. Bonnie knows her son, head to toe, and Danny knows he can’t hide anything from her. She knows what feelings her son has towards Roy and for her it was okay, just as long he doesn’t do anything extreme and end up getting very hurt. She knows how much Danny has been through, from American Idol to Drag Race to All Stars 2. Sometimes she feels like Danny is overkilling everything and he always ends up getting hurt. Danny knows that the last thing his mom wants is that he gets hurt by a guy he’s been crushing on.

They all arrived at Roy’s apartment, he agreed to let Dan spend the night with them so he doesn’t have to travel late just to get home, just as long as they don’t have sex in his apartment. Roy settles down while Shane and Dan head to his empty room to get extra mattresses, since they agreed they’ll camp on the floor of Roy’s bedroom while Danny and Roy share the bed together. Shane decides to be very subtle about it but couldn’t resist on letting out a tease or two. Danny just laughs at him and tries to shrug it off, since he knows that he actually wants to sleep next to Roy. Roy on the other hand, tries to play it cool but the feeling of sleeping with him again, got him on his toes. They have slept together a couple of times but since Roy is confused already with what he feels for Danny, things might be a bit different, but he wants to think of it in a good way. It’s something new for Roy and he doesn’t mind finding out where it leads to.  

The four discusses the road trip over dinner, Danny decided to take the route going west to Azusa. Roy and Danny agreed to be the ones driving and Shane would be in charge of where to sleep and what to do when they arrive on their stopovers. Dan tells them he’ll help out in any way, so Shane just asked him to help pay for any of the expenses.

Danny is more than willing to take the route passing Pennsylvania, because Justin messaged him and saying he’ll be with Aaron and Willam for the holidays. Danny told everyone the route to Azusa and showed it on a map on his phone. From New York, they will pass by Pennsylvania and spend a few nights there with their friends and then travel to Indiana, since Shane and Dan suggested they should spend around three nights there. Danny was a bit shocked on how fast Shane was with planning, but he couldn’t argue at least they would have something nice to do on their travel.

Danny and Shane were the most enthusiastic among the four about the planned trip, Roy and Dan were the ones fixing up the dinner table while the two argue on ideas. Dan insists that he does the dishes and Roy reluctantly agrees and tells him thank you. Roy realizes that this has been the liveliest night he has ever had in his apartment. Usually when Danny and Shane come to visit, they’re barely spending an early night here. They would be out in a bar, where Shane would pick up men and Danny would force Roy to drink with him and Danny would end up getting drunk first. This is the kind of moment where Roy would honestly feel at home. He loved seeing everyone smiling and laughing or actually talking to each other and not be so sucked up in social media. It was these kinds of moments where Roy loves being with other people around, where he didn’t mind that noisy people are in his home and where he doesn’t want to be alone.

———————————————————————————————————-

November 30, 2016, 8:45 AM

Danny has always been doubting himself. He didn’t knew how he reached to top 3 on RuPaul’s Drag Race. But it was a wakeup call for him, it was telling himself that he can do it and that he can achieve things. He’s been to American Idol twice and never reached to anything close to the finish line. But with Drag Race he never felt so fulfilled.

Danny has never forgotten that question asked to him through Timothy during the reunion. “I kinda have a feeling that you have a crush on Bianca del Rio when she’s out of drag. Do you?” Every time he remembers how he answered it he usually smiles in embarrassment and covers his face. But he did feel bad for lying in television, because he did have feelings for Roy. It was a small crush at first but after being together with Roy and Shane as top 3, Danny saw a side of Roy that just got him really deep into Roy and not Bianca del Rio anymore. To Danny, Roy is so different from what he first thought of. He was still mean, but he is a very sweet person. When Danny was doubting himself, Roy always give the extra push he needed to get back up. Roy was always there for him and Danny felt like he had a special place for Roy in his heart. He knows he doesn’t want to take Roy or Bianca out of his life.

Danny woke up in Roy’s bed. He rubbed his eyes and felt something soft on his cheek. He looked up to see Roy sleeping and that got Danny blushing. He didn’t want to move because he knows if Roy woke up they wouldn’t be in that position anymore. Danny enjoyed it, the warmth from Roy’s body and the sound of his slow and even breaths. He wished Roy was having good dreams. He kept looking up at Roy’s face and started examining every inch of it. The 5 o'clock shadow, the smooth tan skin, and his lips. The lips he’s been wanting to taste for a while, Danny had innocence in his eyes, eager to examine Roy’s features even more. He wanted to kiss Roy then and there but he knows things will change if he does. Danny swore he counted the times he’s imagined kissing Roy in that very moment.

He heard Shane make a small grunt from the floor, Danny closed his eyes again and pretended that he was sleeping. He didn’t want Shane catching him staring at Roy. Shane sat up and looked at the two in bed, Dan woke up as well started mumbling something to the blonde.

“Well, isn’t that sweet.” Shane said softly. He grabbed his phone and took a picture. Danny heard the shutter sounds from Shane’s phone and he wanted to smile, maybe ask for the photo when everyone is awake. Dan gently shoved Shane and giggled.

“You should have placed that on silent, they might wake up.” Dan whispered to him. Shane went back to Dan and gave a small kiss on his lips.

“Well, they’re still sleeping.” He said. He got himself up from the floor and gestured Dan to go with him. “C’mon, let’s give them their moment.”

He heard Shane and Dan leave the bedroom so he decided to loosen up again, but Roy shifted his position and wrapped his arm around Danny. Danny almost panicked when he felt Roy’s chest gently pressing on his face. He decided to gently sniff Roy, he smelled like Calvin Klein mixed with perfume he can’t describe, Danny felt like he was in heaven. Roy had a small physique but he was soft. He found his hands resting on Roy’s waist and he wanted to go lower.

Danny kept smiling to himself and repeating how much he was loving this, but his smile slightly faded when he came into a realization.

“Fuck am I that into him? This might not end well if I do something stupid.” He thought to himself, with worry in his eyes.

Roy silently woke up. He was too groggy to picture everything but he knew he couldn’t move. He looked down and saw Danny being nuzzled under his body. Roy blushed when he felt Danny’s hand on his waist and feeling his breathing on his chest. Roy didn’t know what to do, he was torn between staying in that position and wait for Danny to wake up or being the one to wake up and move. He wasn’t sure if he liked it, but his body seems to. His hands started moving on his own, grazing through Danny’s back slowly. There was this sensation running through Roy’s head and body, he hasn’t really felt this way with Jason when they would cuddle in bed. It felt right for him, but Roy always chooses mind over heart and he knows that this isn’t right for him to feel this way for Danny. He was starting to remember what Willam told him about Danny during the break up with Jason, now things are messy in his head. But Roy knows he likes it, he just has no idea what he really feels for Danny.

Danny felt Roy’s hands on his back, it was an exciting feeling for him. Like he was being tickled but not that strong. Danny has slept in Roy’s bed before but there wasn’t much contact between them. The only time he did cuddle up to Roy was the first few nights he left All Stars 2.

The happy feelings he had faded when the thoughts of All Stars 2 were flooding his head, he opened his eyes and felt a blank expression fall on his face. The heavy feeling on his chest came back, every haunting memory just flashed before him right then and there. His breathing went heavy, he placed his hands on Roy’s chest and started to clench onto it. Roy’s eyes shot open, he immediately held Danny closer.

“Hey?” He said softly, rubbing his hand on Danny’s back. He got no response from Danny, but after a few seconds Danny started to grip Roy’s shirt harder and pulled it towards his face. Roy felt his shirt moisten, he gently grabbed Danny’s face to meet his, the green eyes already filled with tears. Roy tried to wipe away the tears from his face and whisper to Danny that things will be okay and that he shouldn’t think about the past too much. Danny just kept shaking his head and cried even more.

“I-I can’t…” Danny mumbled. His breathing got heavier and he held Roy closer to him. “I… I don’t know what to do with all these memories, Roy.”

Roy didn’t exactly know what to say, because in his head he’s already said the same thing to Danny ever since this started. But he felt like if he said the same thing it would feel like he’s imposing something to Danny and he knows Danny doesn’t need that right now.

“I’m sorry.” Danny sobbed. He cried harder, holding on to Roy’s body tight. “I’m such a burden to you.”

“Danny.” Roy interrupted. Danny was still crying hard, Roy pressed his lips on Danny’s head, “You’re not a burden to me, Danny.” He said softly through his hair. “I know it’s really hard. To just forget everything, and I know I’ve already said the things I needed to say about this.” He made Danny looked at him, Danny’s eyes already red from the crying. Roy simply smiled at him and pushed his messy bed hair away. Roy pressed another kiss on his forehead. “But let’s just look at this way okay? That it’s almost the end of the year and we are gonna spend the whole holiday together and with your mom. Let’s look forward to this, okay? I’ll be with you the whole time.”

“But this trip was supposed to be for you Roy. Not for me. For you.” Danny cried in his thoughts, he wanted to say it to Roy but his throat went dry and he couldn’t seem to say anything. He hugged Roy again, feeling Roy’s lips on his forehead, still burned to his skin. Danny couldn’t fight the doubts in his head, or the feeling that he wasn’t strong enough to be there for Roy even if Roy was always there for him.

Danny is having a hard time with all these breakdowns, he wanted it to stop but he can’t help that these feelings keep returning. It was one of the worst moments for Danny after he left, since it was the first time a drag queen tapped out from a competition. Danny had his reasons, everyone knew that and they showed so much love for him after. But to Danny it was a deep wound for him, he had so much mixed feelings about it.

He was glad he left and at the same time he wished he could have stayed. But as much as his determination and passion was there, he just felt so empty. No matter how many times he got convinced by Justin, Michelle Visage and even RuPaul to stay, he just couldn’t. It was that feeling where you feel empty yet you also feel the heaviness in your chest. Danny was feeling that the whole time when he got home.

After he went home to his mother, he said he needed to take a flight to New York and he immediately went to see Roy and stayed with him for a week. There were a lot of things going through his head and he couldn’t even think of what he can do on a daily basis. Right after Season 6 of Drag Race, he knew what he was doing and he knew that he didn’t have to please anyone at that point. He got to finally work on his music and make his drag style in his own liking that no one had to disapprove it.

It was around September when he came to Roy, it was even weeks before his birthday. Danny never felt so vulnerable at that time. It wasn’t the first time he was that hurt on reality television, getting eliminated in American Idol twice and all the criticisms he received during Drag Race Season 6. But nothing made him feel more destroyed in All Stars 2.

When he was with Roy, he just kept crying and locking himself up in Roy’s extra bedroom. Roy has never seen Danny like that, just floating in air and he couldn’t figure out what to do for Danny. Roy always had the right thing to say when Danny asked for advice, but at that point, he didn’t know what to say to him. He was quiet most of the time, said a few motivational words to Danny, but he still ended up having quiet moments with Danny. They would just sit next to each other on the sofa until Danny stopped crying or Danny would cuddle up to Roy while he was working.

Roy knew from that day, he had to be there for Danny, it didn’t matter to him that he gave more for him. What really mattered to Roy was that the one person that meant so much to him was okay and that Roy wouldn’t end up regretting that he wasn’t there for Danny. Roy didn’t want to be alone, if he was being selfish. But he didn’t want Danny to lose himself as well and Roy couldn’t take that.

Roy started blinking fast, returning from his memory. Danny was still clinging on to him, silently crying on his chest. He scooched up a bit to make him sit up on the bed, so he can hold Danny properly. Danny sat up and tried to stop crying. He held one hand on his mouth and the other on his chest, he tried so hard to not cry but the tears kept falling. Roy sat up and held his hand tight, he tried to wipe the tears away and fix Danny’s messy hair.

Shane barged in the room, his eyes were wide and he immediately ran to Danny and hugged him from behind. Danny started sobbing, he fell back on Shane and just kept crying. This was a painful thing to see for Roy. He glanced at the doorway seeing Dan gesturing he’ll close the door and mouthed that he’ll make breakfast. Roy got out of bed head towards Dan and gave him a few instructions on how to use some of the kitchen appliances. Dan gave a thumbs up and Roy gently closed the door. He turned his back to see Shane rocking Danny slowly and softly singing to him. Danny’s expression started to calm down, he opened his eyes to see Roy and lazily gestured him that he wanted a hug. Shane also reached his arms out for the older man, smiling at him. Roy gave a lazy smile and joined them, Danny immediately grabbed Roy and hugged him tight, Shane giving the bigger hug to fit both of them.

Roy honestly felt like Shane was the best person to help Danny out with his problems. Because Shane knew exactly what to do to cheer him up, he has a lot of encouraging words and he does all these things to make Danny smile. Sometimes Roy would tell himself that he should have done this or said that and Shane would be the one to say it before he does. But he doesn’t realize that asides from Danny’s mom, Roy was the first person Danny ran to. He could have chosen Shane or Justin or even Jay. But he chose Roy. Sometimes Danny doesn’t understand why he went to Roy first since he knows he does have feelings for Roy. At the back of his mind he knew that he needed Roy.

“Thanks guys.” Danny said softly, still hugging Roy and Shane. “Sorry again for this. I keep doing it.”

Roy pulled away so he can face Danny properly. Shane gave a big kiss on Danny’s cheek, making Danny smile. “Don’t be sorry about this, Danny. You need people you love to be around you.” Shane said.

When Shane said that Danny and Roy immediately looked at each other. Danny felt a bit of panic that he looked at Roy, he immediately looked at Shane after.

“Hey, we still have this road trip to do.” Shane added, smiling at both of his friends. “I promise this will be the best holiday ever!” He said with his high pitched voice and hugged Danny after.

“Well Dan already is making breakfast right now. So let’s eat and make the final plans and get our shit ready if you wanna start traveling by tomorrow.” Roy said, reaching for the box of tissues he had on his bed counter and handed it to Danny.

“Yeah, we gotta pack up and all.” Danny added, grabbing the tissue and started wiping his eyes. His face was already red from all the crying. But he still managed to give a big smile to his two friends. Roy has always agreed to himself that he feels happier every time he sees Danny smile.

“Alright then, I’m gonna help Dan out first. Then after we get everything ready.” Shane said standing up from the bed. “You and Danny get the car later. Is that alright with you?”

“Yeah, Danny and I will be the ones to get it. Just get your itinerary ready and your boy toy.” Roy replied.

“You’re a cunt.” Shane said flatly. “But alright I’ll call you guys when breakfast is ready then.” Shane leaned in to give Danny a kiss on the cheek again. “Love you, you’re stronger than you think okay?” He gave a smile and left the room. Danny looked down on his fingers and tried to hold back tears. Roy wanted to say something to him, but these were the moments where he didn’t know what to say. Sometimes even making a small gesture for a friend was hard for him to do. He stood up from the bed, decided to head out to the kitchen and get a glass of water for Danny.

“Hey I’m gonna get you water okay? I’ll be back.” Roy said about to head to the door.

“Roy, wait.” Danny immediately said. He got up from the bed and hugged Roy. His head buried on the nook of Roy’s neck, he hugged him tight and gave out a big sigh. “Thank you.”

Roy hugged him back and smiled. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll always be here for you.”

“I really needed you and I’m glad that you were there.”

“I’m glad I was too.”

“I mean since the start. When all of this happened. I don’t know what I’d do if you were gone. I can’t deal with that.”

Roy’s smile faded, he knows how hard it was for Danny but he didn’t know how deep it’s has become.

Before he could say anything, Danny pulled away from the hug, he looked at Roy in the eyes and placed his hand on his cheek. “Please don’t go, Roy.” His eyes became teary again. Danny gave Roy a soft kiss on his cheek and hugged him again. Danny’s heart was racing, he hasn’t kissed Roy like that ever, usually just for fun or a thank you kiss. The kiss he gave Roy was so much more than a simple one, but he felt like he needed to do that.

Despite the events that has happened that morning, Danny felt his heart warming up and all he can think about was kissing Roy again. He wasn’t sure anymore where his feelings for the older man has gone but he knows it’s more than before.

Roy’s heart was also beating fast. The feeling of Danny’s lips on his skin felt more and more desirable to him. Even if Danny was a big mess moments ago, but he couldn’t help but want more. His mind was focused on the kiss, he wants him to do it again but he also is fighting that thought. He pulled away slowly from Danny and guided him to the bed. Danny laid down and smiled at him.

“I’ll go get you that water okay? Then we can get this day started so we can get ready for the trip.” Roy said softly, brushing the long brown hair away from Danny’s face.

Danny gave him a small nod and watched Roy leave the room. When the door closed, he laid on his back and covered his face with his hand. He remembers all the stuff he needed to do on that day. He grabbed his phone on the bed counter and checked the time. He needed to squeeze all the tasks to do for the rest of the morning and afternoon. A part of him is excited for the trip and a part of him was excited as well to be with Roy. He told himself to try to be strong with his feelings about the past but he was also scared with his feelings for Roy. At that point he knew it wasn’t a crush anymore, his heart is slowly falling for Roy and he knows this is might be the best and worst thing that could happen to him.