#after getting bitten by too many bugs this summer

[theinternetisaweboflies]

[satansamwriting]

hi! saw your post from yesterday and im fairly new to ur blog :) can i ask for headcanons for kung lao and liu kang with a gender neutral reader who gets a lot of bug bites?? like in the summer they get bit a lot and it annoys them

HC Kung Lao and Liu Kang with a gn s/o who keeps getting bug bites.

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HI! I wasn't expecting someone to ask me that quickly. I'm farely new to writing headcanons so I tried my best and I hope you enjoy it as much as I had fun writing it.

Kung Lao

This man would find your "suffering" entertaining.

Like you two would be training together and suddenly the urge to scratch your bug bites would distract you enough to stop the fight and he'd be there watching you curse summer and all the bugs on Earthrealm with a grin.

Bug doesn���t seem to bite him and it annoys you. 

Amazed by how many bug bites you get

"(Y/N), the bug charmer"

Enjoy hearing your creative swearing as you discover new bites. 

It gets to a point where you discover bites in odd places like in the palm of your hand or in between your toes. He tries his best not to laugh as you complain about them.

Eventually, Kung Lao would take pity on you, seeing how much it bothers you and would try to find ways to help. 

Kung Lao  asked around the temple for anything that could help with (y/n)'s bug problems. It took some time, even after asking Liu and Lord Raiden, before finding someone that could help. A small bottle of diluted citronella oil in hand, he thanked the monk before making his way back to (y/n). He finds them sitting on the training ground currently trying to fight off the bugs that surrounded them.  “Here, this should help.” Taking a seat next to them, he pries open the bottle and poured a small amount in the palm of his hand.  “ I think my last option is to ask Grandmaster Liang if I could live at his temple during summer. At least bugs would leave me alone.” Rubbing the oil on the several bites covering their body, Kung Lao tries to hide his grin.  “ And leave me here all alone for months?” Satisfied with his job, Kung Lao closed the bottle, pocketing it in case they would need it again. His grin never left his face as he looked at them. (Y/n) seemed to be weighing the options in their head. Signing as if they made the most difficult decision in their life (y/n) stood up and stretched.

“Oh the sacrifices I make for you.”

Kung Lao couldn’t help but laugh as he took  (y/n) extended hands.

Liu Kang

Similar to Kung Lao, this boy doesn’t get bug bites. 

Although, he is more sympathetic toward you whenever you get new bites or complain about the itch. 

Would start to worry if the bites become more apparent on your skin.

Liu Kang is curious to know why, despite the both of you being outside together, the bugs only bite you

Even though he himself doesn’t get bitten , he knows you shouldn’t scratch them. And so, he tries to keep your mind off the bites by training with you.

Secretly finds it entertaining as long as it doesn’t get worse.

Asks around the temple for any advice on how to appease your itch 

It  was a warm day at the temple. Liu Kang and (y/n) were meditating, hiding in the shade to avoid getting sunburn. The meditation was going smoothly until Liu Kang's concentration was broken by a loud smack. Opening his eyes, he turned toward (y/n), who was trying their best not to scratch the newest bite. Liu Kang could see how annoyed they were and, with a soft smile, decided to help with their discomfort.  “Wait here.” The chosen one left his partner for a short while, knowing full well that they would take this opportunity to scratch the bite. He came back soon after with a small bowl filled with cold water and a towel in hand.  “I heard cold water help ease the itching sensation.” Wetting the towel, Liu Kang gently wrapped it around the bite and watched as they smiled in relief. “ Thanks, it does help a bit.”  Too distracted now to continue their meditation Liu Kang and (y/n) spent the rest of the time enjoying the warmth of the day sitting in the shade. Whenever the itching sensation got too intense again, (y/n) would simply remove the towel and wet it again. If the water in the bowl became lukewarm, Liu Kang would stand up and change it for cold water. When other bites started to show up, Liu Kang searched for ways to repel the bugs. One of the monks, who overheard him talk about the problem to Kung Lao, offered him straws of lavender. Thanking the monk, Liu Kang left his friend to find his partner. (Y/n) was scratching at one of the bites when he arrived. The smell of lavender slowly filled the air around them.  “I told you not to scratch yourself while I'm gone.” Placing the flowers in between them, Liu Kang took hold of (y/n) hands in order to prevent them from worsening the bite.  “In my defence,you were back when I started to.” Smiling, Liu Kang kept holding their hands as the two of them continued their conversation.  Despite how annoying it was to get bug bites all summer long, (y/n) enjoyed the care Liu Kang gave them. 

[sugakuns]

[hc] | 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

being childhood friends with suga, suna & semi + telling each other they’d be married when they were younger

a/n: gender neutral pronouns

— sugawara k.

you and suga were next door neighbours for a long period of your life

you were in each others childhood photos holding hands or playing closely together

there’s no denying that you two were close from an extremely young age

even when you two started high school and you moved house, you were only 10 minutes away and attended karasuno too

the two of you were lucky to be in the same class too! (thanks to suga’s tutoring)

but the both of you have one vivid memory, one where suga places a flower ring on your finger and announced the two of you would get married in the future

and you said yes

it happened when you were flicking through an old photo book together, eyes landing a photo of the two of you showing off your rings in the middle of suga’s backyard, smiling gleefully

“Do you remember that?” Sugawara asks quietly, pointing at the sloppy daisy ring on your chubby finger. You can clearly see it’s seconds from falling off, the daisys once white petals turning beige and starting to loosen. But, even so both you and Kōshi are smiling so brightly; eyes wrinkling around the corners, dimples deepening in your cheeks.

“Yeah, we said we’d be married by now” A shaky laugh passes through your bitten lips. Many nights you had thought about this, but that was years ago. The impending crush you had on the silver fox has blossomed in your first year of high school. Suga had finally grown into the charming man he was today and of course you noticed it - anyone would! For nights you would lose sleep as you thought about dating him, being his significant other, kissing him..

“I guess we’re kinda off track” He breaks the daydream you’re in. Your heart pummels as you realise he had shifted to get a better look at your face.

“We can always start somewhere, if you’d like [y/n]” He offers sincerely, his hand ghosting next to yours which lays on the old photo book.

Pink dusts your cheeks, a shy smile curling at your lips. Kōshi blushes too, his previous boldness causing him to shy away a little. The proposition is bold, something that you’d never expect Kōshi to outwardly say, yet you can’t help but thank whatever deity is out there for giving you this chance.

“I’d like that Kō”

— suna r.

suna was quiet as a child so it took you a while to get to him

a couple months in of bugging and suddenly he’s having full conversations with you

you two just clicked,, weirdly

he never had a lot of friends so he stuck to you a lot and held a lot of feelings for you

so when you confidently stride up to him with a shitty paper ring in your hand announcing that the two of you would be married in the future and the old age of 19 (srsly child y/n?) he just nodded

he saved the ring, keeping it in a trinket box in his room on his bedside table

“Tarō, since when did you have this box?” You question, pointing at the white wood box that was sitting on the table next to his bed. Out of the years of coming to his house this was the first you had noticed it.

Suna shrugs, seemingly keeping it there as decoration within his plain room. He’s bent over his homework, scribbling answers on to the small sheet of work paper provided. You’re preoccupied with being nosey, however.

“Oh my gosh, you still own this Rin?” You’re dangling the flimsy paper off of your index finger, an amused smile dancing across your lips. Suna nods, eyes casting over to the item hanging off of your grasp.

“Yeah, it’s our marriage ring, isn’t it?” He smiles softly, eyes thinking back to the day he asked you out. You were so ecstatic, almost bouncing with giddiness.

A hum vibrates from behind your mouth as you put the ring back into the trinket box. You’re setting the box down when Suna speaks again.

“I’ll get you a real ring some day”

— semi e.

semi had been some what..imitating to you since a young age

even through years of friendships he still made you a little nervous

but semi had always been kind to you, protected you and cares for you but you put that down in his motherly tendencies that would shine through at times

he’s always been close to your family since your families were close friends so you spent a lot of time with him

even up to shiratorizawa - and although he was basically promised a placement due to his sports scholarship you studied hard to be by his side

the day that semi had ‘fake proposed’ to you was quite heartwarming

after being pushed around by a couple mean kids and getting your knees dirty and scraped up, semi had came to your rescue and aided you with cleaning the dirt off of your body

later that day he gave you a toy ring and announced that he was going to marry you to protect you from the ‘mean bullies’

“Semi look what I found yesterday!” Semi had visited your house because as of now the students were sent home for the summer holidays. Before you left last time you left your room in a bit of a state and had to clean or before your boyfriend visited.

“What is it?” He questions, upper body resting against your beds headboard. He watches as you scrabble through your drawers, fingers snatching the plastic ring from years ago. Semi almost doubles over at the sight of the small thing, eyes widening as you slip it on your finger.

“I found it while I was cleaning! FYI I want a bigger ring when you actually do propose - preferably not plastic this time” You wave your hand around in front of your face as you examine the plastic toy. It had been too big for your fingers years ago but now it fit like a glove.

Semi flushes as your bold words finally register in his brain. He’s flabbergasted; how could you remember this small item and it’s backstory, and how can you say something about marriage so bravely?

Semi stutters “I- Yeah, I’ll make sure to get you one with a big rock”

[yedlihmad]

| “childhood” - for Wondrous Tails of FFXIV event​

cw: crude language, mentions of death, violence, insects, gore

A home is a roof. In the vast, ancient jungles of Golmore there are many houses built between the trees by the Rava, a timeless people with thousands of tribes and names. Many tribes mean many tongues, so of course across this swallowing forest there are roads some call streets, hills some call mountains, towers which others have climbed to the peak and bellowed out to their fellows, loud as a lion, "I am ruler of this castle!" But go to the village of Eryut, where they worship the Gold Serpent. There they have a special word for ‘home,’ the same word for ‘roof.’ Caves, grottos, roosts, lofts, cabins, huts, tents: for a Viera, they may serve the same purpose, a place to live, eat, and sleep. But until you have thatched and blackened the ceilings–until you have mudded its slopes with an offering to the Serpent, one worthy of your children and blood–it is just a dwelling. Not a home. 

Uncle Skjol did not have a home. He preferred to sleep in a hammock slung between two trees. The triplets were astonished to learn this one summer when the warders were down from the canopies; they had crowded around the old Viera while he fletched new arrows on the forge pavilion. “I don’t like them,” said Skjol, his grim face shiny with sweat. “I never have.” 

“But why?” asked Hrudr, swatting an insect that buzzed by; to celebrate the warder’s reunion the children had been given candied mango, and were at the mercy of fruit-loving flies. “Why does Uncle not like homes?”

“Uncle just doesn’t,” said Hrafn, plumpest and most practical of the three. “Can we have a story now?” 

Refr gnawed on a cube of mango, grinning. “Was he thrown out of the last one?”  

Skjol cursed. He waved a broken arrow shaft. “Steel’s too soft,” he said. "A thousand hexes on the bones of Skatay! Three whole solstices come and gone since the summer of Black Arrows and those Leskreta thieves trade us bad metal for good wood. Disgrace! Ten jacks to get the shipment north of the Henne, six jacks return, four lost when overrun by diresaur outside of Bysnoe Minor. Two eaten, two bitten in half alive, by the time the Barkwalkers got down there nothing was left but the chewed-up hocks. Pfah!” He spat over his shoulder. “Leskreta have no honor. The snow sucks it outta them, the Serpentless fucks.”

The children goggled, savoring this rare delight of bad language. Every time there was a warder reunion, you could count on two things: candied fruit, and pestering their father’s brother. Skjol was ancient, irascible; he had survived over a hundred summers with one eye and less than half an right ear. The old hunter rambled about life in the canopies as frequently and colorfully as he swore. No one in Eryut–not even their mother or her new, bossy wife Laggi–used curse words like he did in a way that was so satisfying to repeat. 

“Is it because homes are hard to build?” asked Hrudr. 

“Because they’re hard to guard,” offered Refr, his mouth half-full. “Creatures can get in. They sneak through holes in the walls.” 

“Is it because they get dirty?” asked Hrafn. Filth was a novel dilemma in their lives; with no children of her own yet, Laggi cleaned often and complained loudly about funky smells. 

Skjol sat in silence, glowering at an arrowhead that would not properly attach. He began to ramble again. “All three are true,” he said finally. “Homes are hard to build. All must be guarded. You let a space go wild and the next day it’s full of bugs. Locust swarms, six moons after the summer of Red Comets. Sheets of wings and horned legs so thick you could wear them like the matron’s robe. Hells!” Without looking, he flung the useless steel into a nearby bucket full of other ruined arrowheads. “I said I don’t like them, I never have. I don’t want a home.”

“What do you want, Uncle?”

Skjol squinted down the hole of a hollowed-out arrow shaft with his lone eye. “Sauna,” he said. “A good knife. Volcano-glass, the star’s obsidian, a rare trade Tikko made back in summer of Ninety-Nine Hounds. Tikko, he grew the biggest gourds you’ve ever seen, big as the moon’s ass. Best kind are the red ones for aging the fern-wine, blood sausage, the Mother made it finely in little loops you could carry on a wrist. Not that the knife did him any good, sweet bastard–dead at sixty-two summers, devoured alive by mantids. Serpent keep  his heart.” He was eyeing Refr’s bag of mango. “You wolf it down that fast, it’ll block you up like a dam on a river.” 

Refr snorted, chewing noisily. “If there were bugs in my home, I’d just eat them.”

Nods of agreement, understanding. “Yeah, why not just eat them?” 

Skjol dug a claw into the arrow shaft, hollowing it further. “You three are already bugs.”

Hrafn looked thoughtfully into the pavilion canopy, considering. “Perhaps Uncle would want a home, if it was made just for Uncle.”

More nodding, this time with enthusiasm. “An Uncle home, for Uncle to like!”

“Nope,” said Skjol, pinching a strip of sinew between his teeth. “Do not waste air talking like that. This is fucking up my fucked-up arrows. Where was I–ah, yes. Tikko’s big gourds. So, Tikko was my father’s sister’s eighth son. Six and seventy summers ago, on the celebration of Two Ladies, the matriarchs conferred with Muscadet that all strangler vines should be culled...”

But the children ignored him; they carried on, talking over each other, clamoring. “If we pitched it up high for Uncle, thatched and tiled it with clay, it would be easier to guard.”

“So that when he came home he could sleep in peace. A protected home!”

“When I’m grown, I will build us a big one,” announced Hrudr, sitting back and upright, like the elders did when issuing final decrees at council meetings. “And we will all live there, with Uncle, too! We’ll have twenty windows, five doors, a room for you, and three big chests.”

“Four chests. An extra one, for Uncle.”

“And guard it day and night,” added Hrafn. “We’ll go up to those Leskreta thieves and kick their tails until they give us the best steel. Then it will be less work. Why do it alone? Why–”

Suddenly Skjol stamped, scaring them; his big, clawed foot came slamming down on the pavilion planks, heel-first. Thump!

“Enough!” he bellowed. “You rats! What do you know about work, about homes? About Leskreta, steel, anything? Pfah!” He stamped again, scattering them, their bags of fruit sent flying. “Get out of here! Go! Leave me be!”

Squealing, the triplets bolted away from the pavilion. They stopped when they passed the elder’s lodge, each of them panting; Refr was doubling over with pained laughter. 

Moments with Uncle Skjol always ended like this. For as long as they could remember, they could only push him so far. But later, when the laughter passed–when Hrudr went to wash and Refr went to demand more mango–it was Hrafn who crept back and peeked through the tree trunks by the forge. Skjol was still there; he had not moved from his bench. He looked small and narrow through the trees, his gnarled ear curled like an old woman’s finger, accusing. 

Hrafn slunk onto the pavilion. Around the bench lay chunks of candied mango spilled from their bags. Hrafn gathered up each chunk and sat beside Skjol, pushing them in a gold pile towards him. Wordlessly the old Viera reached out, scooped up the pile, and poured it into his fanged mouth. Chewing and rambling as he worked. 

“After the winter of Muscadet betrayal, the strangler vines returned and lay in wait. Fourteen jacks lost to vines, six more from culling. The Two Ladies dishonored, their sanctity forsaken, made the rains thick so the ticks came in swarms. The next summer we gave skysong and three strong hearts to the Serpent to make up for the lost blessing, but the ticks...” 

Silence settled over them. A fly danced around the black patch that covered Skjol’s missing eye; it landed, circled, and hummed away. Skjol did not notice. He was staring at the place where the pavilion met the cobbled path. 

“I like what I need,” he said. “Sauna. A good knife. Good steel arrowheads, gourds, Tikko. Not roofs.” His single dark eye fixed on Hrafn, glaring hard at the child’s face. As if to bore right through. “I don’t like them, child. I never have, and I never will.” 

[catzula]

Bakugou isn’t afraid of bees

Request: Would Bakugou with an s/o the complete opposite of him be a better request? Like he has a partner whose shy, soft, doesn't curse, cute,etc?

A/N: soo, this is long overdue, and I'm really sorry for that! But I have a lot going on, family drama, school and I'm just going through a lot, and I love writing, it helps me cope with stress, but all these things happening just make me slower, I'm sorry for that :(

Thank you for requesting this, btw, I'm not tagging you because last time I tagged anyone I got shadowbanned 🤡 so I'm avoiding tagging people like the plague, but thank you so so much for requesting! Hope you like it 💕

Synopsis: going swimming with the Bakusquad seemed like a good idea, but it was always guaranteed to end with some kind of a disaster, also, Bakugou is afraid- ow, sorry! Bakugou dislikes bees.

Bakugou had told you, he had told you that it was a bad idea to go.

He knew it, they did, and even you did too, but you went anyway.

But it wasn't your fault that you just wanted to spice up your summer break, and going swimming with the Bakusquad seemed like a perfect idea!

And you knew Bakugou wouldn't make you go there alone, especially if you wore your go-to swimwear that you knew just looked good on you. The one he liked oh-so-much.

"No fucking way, Y/N." He told you the moment he saw you standing at the entrance of the room with your beach bag hanging from your shoulder.

"Oh, it's going to be fiiine," you told him with an innocent smile, emphasizing the last word. "Kami-kun told me that they found this small cliff we could jump from and- h-he told me its only 5 meters tops, not even a cliff, really!" You corrected yourself when you heard a growl you were a bit too familiar coming from him.

"Kami-kun?" He repeated. "Kami-kun's gonna be there, huh? And when you're wearing that?" 

"Well, yeah! He even told me they'll make camp if the weather allows it, if not, he told me not to worry cause he'll make a fire and have a drink of two, you know." You kept talking with an innocent smile he usually adored, but it only made him want to shake some sense into you at the moment.

"No," He told you through his teeth, voice dropping an octave and sending chills down your spine, his blood boiling with something he didn't want to name (jealousy), his right eye started to twitch as he thought of the many memories he had of lightweight Kaminari.

He started walking towards you, the look in his eyes reminding you of a wolf that was looking at its prey.

"Don’t fucking go there, especially without me." He was suddenly too close to you, well aware of the widening of your eyes as he hovered on your frame purposefully, making you feel small underneath him. He smiled when you inhaled a shaky breath when he smiled, his lips almost touching yours, but not quite.

"That's no good, I already told them I'm coming." You whispered with a smile, your eyes fixated on your hands, "Kami-kun was so happy to learn I was coming, though he did sadden a bit when he heard you couldn't." Bakugou was well aware of how your eyes widened when his hand touched your cheek, sliding down to your chin to tilt it towards his face. He knew you couldn't maintain eye contact when he looked at you like that and that caused a warm feeling to spread in his chest, Bakugou would never admit it, but he adored your shyness.

"Well then," he told you as he backed up just a bit, "tell him he doesn't have to be all that sad since I changed my mind."

***

To say that Bakugou was protective of you would be an understatement. His hand was attached to your waist, sometimes even sliding down just a bit to tease you every now and then, causing your face to heat up.

He didn't even let you go when Kirishima and Kaminari had hugged you to greet you, growling threateningly when he thought Kaminari hugged you a little too long.

Despite the act he had on of the threatening, scary boyfriend, though, you knew all he would do was glare and frown till you kissed him on the cheek and told him he was your one and only.

Still, you were grateful he actually came with you since you knew he wasn't a big fan of the sea and what came with it.

He especially despised mosquitoes, something he had named 'the curse', and he was right to do so, too, making it the most hilarious thing you had ever seen.

An 'unnatural phenomenon' as Kiri liked to call it, was that the mosquitoes loved Bakugou. Even though he always had a mosquito spray on him and renewed it almost every hour, it never worked, and he often got bitten at least 20 times a day. He did everything he could to try and stop them from biting him (except for killing them since he hated killing mosquitoes) Bakguou always had you applying cream to his bites he often turned into wounds because he couldn't help himself but itch them.

(Still, you had to admit that the curse came in handy time to time since whenever Bakugou was around, nobody else ever got bitten.)

He also hated sand, hated getting wet, was too pale, and usually got burned very easily, and most of all, he hated bees. He wasn't afraid of them, Bakugou Katsuki wasn't afraid of anything, but it was safe to say that he disliked the black-yellow striped creatures with every fiber in his body.

So even though he said he was just there because he didn't trust his dumbass friends, you knew it was because he could tell you wanted him there, and he came, despite hating almost everything. But he didn't hate you, and that was enough.

"Get the fuck away from me you little shit!" He screamed right next to your ear, making you wince and giggle. "Did you spray your-"

"Of course I fucking sprayed the bug repellant." He grumbled as he itched the newest bite, his voice was harsh and words hard, but you knew he wasn't mad at you and that it was unintentional.

"Don't itch it, Katsu." You told him, putting your hand on the bite to stop him from itching it anymore, and he could swear he felt the itch went away with your touch.

"I'll get back at you, you know, for forcing me to come here." He whispered into your ear, but you chose to play dumb and smile at him innocently. "But I didn't do anything, you said you wanted to come."

"Y/N, you know very well that-" His speech was interrupted by the joyful way your name was announced, a blonde skipping your way with a charming smile. "Y/N, hey, Y/N, come on, let's swim!" Kaminari cheered, holding you by the wrist and pulling you up to your feet, away from your fuming boyfriend.

"If you fucking touch her again-" He started to threaten but closed his mouth when he saw a frown forming on your lips. "Be careful, dumbass." He told you instead, trying and failing to suppress the smile that forced his lips upwards when you flashed him a cute smile.

"Don't' you wanna swim, too?" You asked sweetly, and he scoffed. "Of course, I don't wanna fucking swim." He muttered, playing with the grass he ripped from the ground. "Ah, the weather is so hot, a shame, Bakubro." Kaminari smiled and shrugged, but Bakugou noticed how his eyes widened when you took your beach clothes off and stood with your swimwear.

"Wh- Woah, Y/N, you look... really nice!" He told you, his cheeks turning into a rosy color, the interaction making the others turn to you, too. You felt your cheeks starting to heat up, not used to getting so much attention as you felt your boyfriend rise to his feet, his arm wrapping around your waist with a scoff.

"I thought you didn't want to swim." You told him with a giggle. "You seemed really opposed to the idea just then."

"I changed my mind, shitty woman." He growled. "Dunce face is right for once in his life, the weather is really fucking hot."

***

"Soo," Kaminari muttered, looking at his friends' faces. "Who's gonna jump first?"

He sighed when no one answered him. "Oh come on, you guys are no fun! Kiri? The manliest of our group, won't you be brave and-"

"Nope, sorry bro, I choose to live." He told him with an apologetic smile. "I'll go in second, though." He grinned cheekily, and Kaminari sighed. "How about you, Mina?" He tried his chance with the girl who avoided his eyes with all she had. "You're the most adventurous and the craziest, I'm sure only you can pull this off." He sent her a wink but was answered with another apologetic smile.

"Nope, same as Kiri here. I'll agree to jumping when I see somebody can survive."

"How about you, dunce face? Trying to force people to jump, but not brave enough to do it yourself?" Bakugou teased him, causing Kaminari's cheeks to take a red color. "I-it's not that I'm scared, but I just- just..." He looked at his friends for any kind of help, but they liked watching him squirm instead. You couldn't help but take note of just how close he stood near the edge, almost a push away. But, of course, you wouldn't push your boyfriend, would you?

"Huh, you have to be more clear, Kami-kun," he kept teasing. "Why won't you-"

"Ka-katsuki!" You suddenly interrupted the panic written on your face making his heartbeat to double. "Y/N, what's wrong?" He asked as he started to come towards you.

"N-no, don't move!" You told him, trying to ignore everyone looking at you like you lost your mind. "Katsuki, don't panic but there's a bee-" before you got to finished your sentence, Bakugou had already thrown himself off the cliff, a splash sound following it not long after.

Your friends watched you silently, trying to understand what the fuck just happened-except for Kirishima since he was well aware of Bakugou's dislike of bees-, it was your and Kirishima’s simultaneous laughs that caused Bakugou to understand you tricked him into jumping in.

"You know he's gonna get back at you for that, though, you know that right?" Kirishima asked with a mischievous smile and you bit your lip. "If he can get his hands on me, of course." You went near the edge, slightly leaning forward to take a peek at your boyfriend.

He looked so utterly annoyed, it was pure comedy for you, so you didn't notice Mina and Kirishima sneaking up on you as you kept teasing Bakugou. "And how is the water, Katsu?" You asked him with a teasing smile, though his answer was the last thing you heard before you were also wet.

"See for yourself!" He had cried out with a grin. The first thing you knew after you fell was the warm body of your boyfriend's. He had pulled you to himself almost immediately before you even got the chance to run away.

"So you think you can play with me like that and run away?" He asked, voice low on purpose to make you flushed. His face got closer to yours, his lips millimeters away from your trembling ones that didn't get used to the cold water yet. "Wh-what are you doing?" You exclaimed since you knew he hated PDA more than he did the sand, and he grinned, the kind of grin that caused your breath to hitch in your lungs. You combed back his heavy, spiky hair that fell on his face now instead.

"I'll-" you didn't get to hear what he was going to do since his little teasing game was interrupted by another loud splash that came from right next to you, making you scream with how close it was, Kaminari who had tried to jump right on top of you two. "That little shit-" Bakugou muttered as he swam towards him, his hands finding Denki's head the second he came out to surface, pushing him back in before he got the chance to breathe, and you felt bad for laughing at his screams that were coming from the underwater.

Thankfully, Kirishima didn't take long to jump and save the dumb blonde from your boyfriend's hands.

Mina was the last to jump, falling with a loud cry of victory, falling right on top of Kaminari, who was just rescued by Kirishima from Bakugou's hands, their odd friendship making you giggle and secretly long for something similar.

"So," Kaminari spoke when he was done coughing water, "who's ready for round two?"

***

"Ah, to have someone as adorable as her rub sunscreen to my back." Kaminari sighed loudly before he got Karate-chopped on the head. "Shut up if you don't want to get killed today." Kirishima told him, his eyes turning to the angry blonde that sat in front of you, taking a relieved breath when he realized Bakugou hadn't heard him.

Since Bakugou had jumped earlier than expected -thanks to you- he hadn't worn enough sunscreen, and it was your job to rub it on his skin and try and stop him from complaining about it the whole day.

"Ah, it fucking burns, dumbass." He hissed when your hand touched his bright red shoulders. "Oh, stop being a ba-" You bit your tongue before you got to finish that sentence when he glared at you. "I'm sorry, Katsu." You grinned cheekily, leaving the smallest peck on his shoulder. "There, feel better?"

He did, in fact, feel much better.

"Shut up." He told you, turning his face in front of him so you couldn't see his smile. He had the smile the whole time you rubbed soothing circles on his back and arms, smile turning to an immediate frown as you did his chest, but you knew how he was feeling, if not because you knew him well, his heartbeat gave it away.

He bit his lip, trying to suppress the sigh of relief as you massaged his muscles along with the sunscreen. "Okay, we're good to go." You told him when you finished, moving to stand up, but were held back when he got ahold of your wrist and pulled you back, making you fall on his lap.

"K-katsu, what are you doing?" You whispered, face burning with embarrassment. "I couldn't get my kiss back there." He told you with a smirk, his face getting closer to yours.

You held your breath, afraid his friends would see, but also longing for a kiss. You tilted your face upwards to receive his kiss, jumping in your place when you heard a loud whistle. "That's my boy!" Mina cheered, clapping, "get the girl!"

"For fucks sake, we can't even get a minute alone." He muttered angrily, standing up without kissing you. You held the hand he offered as you stood up, but he stopped you before you could even take a step.

"Watch where you're going, dumbass!" He told you angrily, his eyes locked on a shiny piece of glass right next to your foot. It wasn't the only one, either, big and small pieces of glass were scattered on the beach, some even being pushed back and forth by the waves.

"Don't swim anymore." He told you suddenly, eyes still on the pieces of glass. "Oh, I'll be fine!" You told him with an encouraging smile, but he didn't seem so persuaded. "I'll be careful, okay?" You told him one more time, knowing he couldn't resist your smile, and he gave in with a sigh not long after.

"It's getting dark already," he told you, "just one more jump."

You smiled with glee, running back to the water to tell them to go for another round of jumping.

What happened after that wasn't Bakugou's fault. He had told you not to go many times, but you did anyway, and now he had to deal with this.

You had jumped too close to the shore, the water wasn't as deep as it was supposed to. He could tell it wasn't the moment you touched the water and heard your muffled scream of pain. You surfaced the water with the look of pain on your face, and he hadn't missed a beat before he jumped down.

"What is happening? What happened?" He heard Mina's voices as he surfaced, his crimson eyes looking for your figure. "I think she hurt her leg." Kirishima answered, also getting ready to jump in. Bakugou spotted you trying to get back to the shore, holding your left leg as you pushed yourself with your arms and one leg.

He swam to you as fast as he could, his arms wrapping you and stopping your sloppy movements. You stilled as soon as you felt him pulling you to his chest, carrying you out of the water.

You were out of breath, and he could see the tears in the corner of your eyes. "What happened, baby?" He asked, concern laced in his voice when he saw the drops of blood dripping from your foot to the sand. "I- is it bleeding?" You asked, trying to hide the tremble in your voice. "I think I jumped on a piece of glass, or maybe a shell? I don't know."

"Okay, it's okay, don't worry about it, I'll take care of it." He soothed you, finding a good spot to put you. He felt your grip on him tightening when he tried to put you down. Thankfully, Kirishima had reached you as well, Bakugou nodded at him, receiving another nod from his best friend.

"I'll look at your leg now, okay?" Bakugou told you, and you nodded, biting your lip and trying not to cry. "Hey, Y/N?" Kirishima spoke, shielding your vision from seeing your leg. "Remember those brownies you made for us once? Did you know Mina tried to do them for us too, but ended up burning the kitchen?"

"Hey!" You heard Mina protesting as you laughed, she had also jumped and came to see what was happening. "You promised not to tell anyone!"

"Where's Kami?" You heard Kirishima whisper, and Mina smiled faintly. "You know he can't see blood."

"Should we go to a hospital?" Kirishima asked, and you whimpered. "No, no hospitals, I can't-"

Bakugou shook his head. "The cut's not that deep, we don't have to go to a hospital, but I have to clean and bandage this." Ksirihima finally moved away and you saw the cut on your leg. It was true, it wasn't very deep, but it still hurt a lot.

"We have to go back now," Bakugou told them as he swept you in his arms in bridal style and smirked at you. "'Im sorry," you told his friends, feeling bad about the fun ending because of you. "No, please don't say that!" Mina told you. "Yeah, we can do this again after you're well again!"

"Oh fuck no!" Bakugou growled, making you chuckle.

"Promise." Kirishima mouthed with a wink, and you chuckled again.

***

"You idiot." Bakugou muttered as he cleaned and finally wrapped the wound on your leg, pressing a kiss on your forehead. "I was fucking worried back there."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to jump on a glass." You told him with a pout, making him sigh. "Whatever, I’m just telling you to be fucking careful." He sat on the couch you were laying on, careful not to disturb you, the way he was acting as if you were a fragile doll making you roll your eyes.

"Can you get under the blanket already?"

"You're just trying to cuddle, you needy idiot." He told you grumpily, snickering when you didn't protest. "Yeah, I might be a needy idiot, but I'm a wounded needy idiot."

"Don't call yourself an idiot, dumbass." He told you with a light flick on the forehead and making you laugh, smiling when you laughed, doing as you said and getting under the blanket, his arms wrapping you and pulling you on top of his chest.

"How are you feeling?" He asked after a few minutes. You snuggled deeper into his chest, eyes already heavy with sleep. "It hurts a bit." You admitted, knowing he could tell if you lied.

You felt a soft peck on your lips.

"There," he muttered, recalling the way you soothed his burns earlier that day. "Any better?"

You grinned. "Much better."

[devine-star]

Left For Dead

Fandom: The Last Of Us 2

Jesse x Male Reader! 

Warnings: F slur is used, Homophobic character. 

Nothing else! Enjoy! 

Y/n rolled over groaning at the sound of knocking at the door "wake up lazy!" a kid's voice called. "Im comin..." he grumbled getting out of bed and opening the door to see the 13 year old girl smiling at him "We're on kitchen duty today Bugs!"

Y/n smiled at the nickname and ruffled her short hair "alright kid, let me get dressed." he closed the door and rubbed his eyes as he walked over to the closet; grabbing a pair of jeans, socks, a t-shirt and his jacket that was resting on the chair.

After a quick look over in the mirror, he headed outside to see June playing in the dirt "Come on ya rat," he said playfully causing her to jump up with a smile.

The walkthrough town was filled with greeting from everyone and chatter with June. "Look," she nudged Y/n "there's your boyfriend" she sang teasingly as she pointed to Jesse who was in a tank top and jeans helping unload some logs from a truck.

Y/n blushed and gently shoved the girl "shut up! He isn't my boyfriend" "You wish he was thouuuugh" she sang pushing her way into the cafeteria.

Y/n let their eyes linger on Jesse's arms and the sweat dripping down his back in the summer heat before blushing harder and making his way inside.  

"Bugs!" Seth greeted as Y/n walked into the kitchen "sup boss," he replied with a smile as he grabbed an apron off the hook and slid it over his head tying behind his back.

"Here, cut up these vegetables for me," Seth stepped away from the cutting board and bell peppers and other various vegetables "hey! I could do that!" June said happily.

"Not yet kid," Seth gruffed as he patted her on the shoulder "you're gonna wash the fruits and vegetables as they come in," June pouted "You always get the fun stuff," she hit Y/n's shoulder gently before stomping over to the sink.

In the midst of cutting and cooking the vegetables, Y/n got hot. He slid his jacket off and tossed it to the side before getting back to work; "hey Junnie! Turn some music on will ya?" he said over his shoulder.

After a while, Y/n began dancing a bit while he cut the vegetables and singing to himself. He pushed aside the carrots and grabbed some tomatoes and began cutting but soon stopped with a loud curse "fuck!" he held his finger close to his chest while hissing in pain, he cut himself.

"You always do that," a familiar voice came from behind him, he turned around and saw a very sweaty Jesse.

"Let me see," he said coming closer and holding out his hands, Y/n slowly placed his hurt hand into the hands of his crush with a slight blush.

He then followed Jesse over to the sink and watched as Jesse cleaned his wound with a focus on his face. "I could have cleaned it.." Y/n said softly looking down at the small slice in his finger.

"Yeah but you probably would have hurt yourself, even more, God of Destruction," he teased with a smirk before grabbing a clean stray towel and drying Y/n's hand.

"I am not THAT clumsy," he argued looking down at his hand once Jesse let go of it, "You aren't allowed on runs because Marie is scared you'll DIE" he laughed a bit before plucking up a carrot and popping it into his mouth.

"Hey! Your hands are dirty! Stop!" Y/n said taking the towel from his apron and slapping Jesse on the shoulder a few times. Jesse laughed and raised his hands "Alright alright," he chuckled shaking his head a bit.

"Oh hey, Jesse!" June said popping her head up over the ordering window with a goofy smile "Sup Junnie," he greeted with a wave.

Seth looked through the door "If you aren't assigned here son, ya gotta go," he scolded nodding his head towards the door.

"Fine fine, I'm out." Jesse turned to leave before turning back and winking at Y/n "See you at the bonfire tonight," Y/n blushed and went back to work after putting a bandaid on his finger, his mind running with possibilities of how the bonfire could go.

Later that night, Y/n was leaning against a building, beer in hand, watching the kids run around and the adults all laugh and have fun. "You wanna play tag with us Bugs?" June asked running up to him with a group of kids behind her "Nah you go ahead this time Junnie," he waved off causing her to shrug and run off after slapping a boy called Ian "Tag!"

About 2 hours into the bonfire, Y/n hadn't seen Jesse not one bit he asked around a few times and no one has seen him. Anxiety grew slightly as he realized Jesse was out on the River Route; He was careful but there was always a chance.

Y/n had made his way closer to the fire and was sitting on a bucket bitting his thumb as he stared into the fire with nothing but bad thoughts running through his head. Nothing but images of Jesse being bitten and him turning into a runner or a clicker...

"Fuck!" Y/n called out of fear as a hand was slapped on his shoulder scaring the shit out of him. He snapped his head up and there stood Jesse, hands on his hips with a smirk "Hey Buggie" he said

Y/n jumped up and hugged him tightly "my anxiety.." he mumbled as he buried his face in Jesse's neck.

"Woah...Woah.." Jesse chuckled a bit hugging Y/n tightly before frowning as he felt his neck get wet "A-are you crying?" he pulled away and looked at Y/n with shock "Hey..Hey, I'm okay!" he said calmly with a smile before glancing around "let's get you outta here...Too many people for your anxiety,"

Y/n stumbled his way out of the bonfire, his vision going blurry and black every now and then as a full-blown anxiety attack racked his body. He didn't know where Jesse was taking him or what Jesse was trying to say to calm him down all he knew was that it was hard to breathe and felt like the summer heat was suffocating him.

Y/n was pulled into a building and sat on a couch, the sound of an A/C turning on was noted in his mind as he began tearing his clothes off himself. First his jacket, then his shirt and as he began to remove his pants, two hands stopped him "stop, stop, you dont need to take everything off," Jesse said calmly.

He sat next to Y/n before kind of laying against the side of the couch and pulling Y/n into his chest and pressing his head against his chest.

Y/n gripped onto Jesse as hard as he could as he tried to even his breathing, and focus on Jesse playing with his head and humming softly to him.

About an hour passed before Y/n was calm enough to stop crying and to breathe evenly with small little huffs every now and then.

"What caused that..." Jesse asked softly looking down at him with worry in his eyes. "I thought...I thought you were dead...or got bitten.." he explained closing his eyes tightly "my mind wouldn't stop playing the image of you being bitten and turning and-and" he began shaking his head as tears returned.

"Hey! Stop!" Jesse sat up and held Y/n's head in his hands "look at me, look at me in my eyes!" Y/n opened his eyes slowly before looking up at Jesse, his eyes meeting and seeing nothing but fear and worry reflect back at him.

"I'm okay! Not bitten, I'm here with you!" Jesse said sternly as he gently rubbed his thumbs over Y/n's cheeks. "I'm here with you.." he said softer this time with a gentle smile.

Y/n took a stuttering breath and sighed before smiling gently. "I..I'm sorry," he mumbled searching Jesse's face for any sort of annoyance.

"It's okay, You're one of my best friends, I..I would have reacted the same way.." Jesse said finally letting go of Y/n's face once he realized how close their faces were.

Y/n leaned back trying to ignore the blush that was on his face before taking notice of the one on Jesse's and choosing to ignore it.

"Yeah...We gotta look out for each other.." Y/n mumbled wiping away a fear stray tears before looking towards the clock on his bedside "it's midnight," he noted out loud "Don't you have patrol tomorrow?"

He looked back at Jesse to find him already staring at him when he didn't answer right away, Y/n snapped his fingers "hey," Jesse jumped a bit and blinked a few times "huh?" he looked towards the clock "oh, yeah I do...That's another reason I came to find you tonight."

Y/n narrowed his brows and tilted his head a bit "What?" "Maria wants you to go on route tomorrow with Thomas," he said scratching the back of his neck before sighing "She wouldn't allow you to come with me, says we'd be too distracted..."

Y/n nodded a bit "Oh..Okay.." he slowly stood and stretched his muscles "Thanks for letting me know," "You arent scared?" Jesse asked standing up.

"No, Before I came here, I dealt with millions of those fuckers" Y/n said with a shrug "I'm a good shot," he shook his head a bit before looking over at Jesse. "I may be a bit rusty, but I'll do it," he crossed his arms.

Jesse walked closer and placed his hands on Y/n's shoulders "be careful...I.." he stopped before looking away "care about you," he finished patting Y/n's shoulders and heading out the door.

Y/n couldn't stop his heart as his heart fluttered as Jesse walked out the door, "he cares for me..." he mumbled with a small smile, he hadn't heard Jesse say that much but every time he doe, it drives him crazy.

The next morning Y/n wiped the sweat from his brow as he made his way to the stables, it was early but still, it was hot already. "Morning Bugs"

He looked over his shoulder as June came jogging down the street after him, he slowed a bit so she could catch up. "Hey June," he said sleepily "What are you doing up so early?" She asked.

"I could ask you the same thing kid," he gently bumped shoulders with the surprisingly tall girl. "I got called for stable duty, you?" "Im on route duty,"

June burst into laughter before hitting his shoulder "No! Seriously!" "I was! Why do you think I have my pack with me?" He asked jutting a thumb over his shoulder to the pack on his back.

June stopped with a look of fear "Youre serious?"

For as long as the two have known each other, Y/n hadn't been called for Route duty, but now that he has; June was scared.

"Don't worry JuneBug, We're the two Bugs! can't be separated!" He ruffled her hair as they approached the stables to see all the routes people there.

"Hey Y/n," Thomas said gruffly, he was a man in his mid-30s, never really liked Y/n. "Hey, I'm your route partner today!" he said trying to sound cheerful, "So I've been told," he said rolling his eyes "Pat's in there," he nodded his head towards the stable.

"Wow, grumpy," June said following Y/n into the stables "Yeah, ever since we met he hasn't liked me," Y/n shrugged "Just always tried to be nice but, guess he isn't willing to do the same."

Y/n smiled as Pat came into view, his horse he saved from infected a long time ago. "Hey girl!" he said happily as she snorted and stomped feet at the sight of her owner.

Once everyone was gathered at the gate Jesse began his briefing "Follow your routes, take out infected if you come into contact with anything you can't handle," he glanced Y/n's way "come back,"

The gates opened and everyone was off their own ways, Jesse glancing over his over to catch a glimpse of Y/n trying to make conversation with Thomas as they left "be safe Buggie..." he mumbled before heading off.

Pat clipped and clopped as she walked through the river with Y/n on her back, he wiped sweat from his face with a rag as him and Thomas road into the city.

The sound of infected coming from a nearby building caught his attention "Tom," he called holding out a hand then bringing a finger to his lips. He dismounted his horse and made his way towards a grocery store and peering into a boarded window "infected inside," he mumbled looking back at Thomas.

He stepped back and sighed "Let's get in the-" "You don't call me that," Y/n looked back at Thomas confused "what?" "You call me Thomas, I ain't Tom to you," he glared "Oh okay, sorry, I just figured-" "Figured you could use it cause Tommy lets you call him that?" he rolled his eyes "Call me Thomas or nothin at all,"

Y/n nodded before shaking his head and beginning to search for a way in, "Thomas, over here," he called before pulling himself into a broken window and jumping inside.

He quickly hid behind an overturned vending machine as he heard the infected. Thomas hopped in and hid next to him before he moved to take out a nearby infected.

Y/n did the same taking out the knife Jesse gave him and attacking a clicker from behind. Once done he noticed a half-open door, "over here," he said moving towards it and climbing under it and shimmying through.

He noticed all the infected in the room and quickly turned back and quietly said "come on Thomas, Ill lift this and you crawl through."

But he didn't see Thomas behind him "Thomas?" he whisper-yelled. He then had to quickly move out of the way as he saw a makeshift noise bomb come through the whole. He stumbled to the side as fear raised in his chest "Thomas!" He yelled in surprise.

The bomb went off alerting all the infected of Y/n's position "Good luck getting out faggot!" Thomas yelled laughing before covering the door with the vending machine.

"No! Help me!" Y/n yelled in fear before he began to fight off the infected. This had to be a whole hoard lured into the grocery store by someone or something.

"Fuck!" He cried as he pulled out his gun and began shooting infected one by one, soon running out of bullets. He took out his knife and ran, hiding every now and then.

He let out a loud yell as he was attacked from behind, he stumbled, fell before reaching around and pushing off the infected and stabbing it on the throat.

Y/n fought for his life for around 2 hours before collapsing exhausted.

The silence in the room rung his ears, pain from scratches after being thrown to the ground and shoved against shelves. And he had even accidentally cut his own hand trying to stab an infected in the throat.

Tears streamed his face as he stumbled around collecting what little supplies there was before pushing open a door revealing what looked to be a worn-down hold-up area. It had a bed and a few crates of stuff.

He collapsed onto the bed and groaned in pain, 'why would Thomas do that?' he thought to himself. The last words were spoken to him ringing in his head before he finally caught what the last word was "faggot" Thomas hated him because he was...bi? Gay? Hell y/n didn't know what he was...

But before he could contemplate what his sexuality was, blackness overcomes his senses and he passed out.

Thomas climbed back out of the building hear Y/n scream for help, ignoring it he made his way back over to the horses and unclipped Pat's saddle and pulling it off "get outta!" he called spooking the horse and it ran a few feet before looking back, she didn't wanna leave without Y/n.

Thomas rolled his eyes at the white and black spotted horse before hiding the saddle in the trunk of an abandoned car and sighing.

He then took his knife out and began ripping his own clothes and wincing as he cut himself up and smeared blood all over himself, "that'll do," he grumbled climbing on his horse and heading off towards Jackson once again.

Once he got close to Jackson, he started fake crying, if he wanted people to buy the fact that he and Y/n were actually attacked by a hoard; he had to fake it well.

Once at the Eastside gate he started yelling to open the gate, once inside he got off his horse while fake crying "Y/n was mauled!" he cried out catching Jesse's attention from the stables.

Jesse ran from the stables over to Thomas "What? What happened?!" Thomas looked at him and clung to him "I tried to save him, Jesse! The hoard! I couldn't save him or his body!" he cried.

Jesse pushed off Thomas as he felt his heartbreak "You said you would keep him safe!" he yelled as tears began to run down his face. "I tried!" Thomas yelled back, obviously lying.

"I have to go get him!" Jesse cried rushing to his horse "Jesse stop!" it was Tommy and Maire "he's dead meat out there!" Tommy grabbed Jesse before he could get onto his horse and held him back.

"What's going on? Where's Y/n?" Jesse looked over to see June "June.." he said softly "No...You're lying!" she cried, immediately knowing what was happening. Jesse pulled his arms from Tommy and made his way to June, pulling her into a tight hug "Im sorry June... it was a hoard.." she pushed him away.

"Y/n was a good shot! Always careful! Something must have happened!"

Later that night Jesse sat on the porch of Y/n's house, he was flipping through his sketchbook with tears in his eyes. Something must have happened...Y/n was always careful, he may have been one clumsy son of a bitch but he was careful whenever outside the gates...

Determination filled Jesse's body, he stood grabbing his bag and slinging it on his shoulders and storming off to the stables, he was going to get Y/n.

When Y/n woke it was dark outside, his body was on fire as he slowly sat up. Memories of what happened flooded back and he sighed before standing. But his legs didn't hold him up, he fell to the ground of pain filled his stomach; hunger.

Y/n didn't eat that morning or the night before and Thomas had the route food. He looked around and got on his hands and knees he didn't know what to do...

Jesse gripped the reins of his horse as he looked back and forth with his flashlight, he didn't see or hear any infected. If there were a hoard he would have heard them by now.

He stopped and jumped out of fear as he saw a flash of black and white run across the road by the grocery store up the road. He looked around with the flashlight before slowly moving forward and dismounting his horse once close enough.

He slowly made his way closer to the grocery store then yelled in fear as the white and black spotted horse reared its legs and whined loudly "Pat!" he yelled "Woah girl! Woah Girl!" he called out calming her down and whistling for his horse to come closer.

"What are you doing girl? Where is your saddle?" he asked eyeing the horse who whined and scratched the ground with her head looking towards the boarded-up store.

Jesse looked at her then back at the store and nodded a bit patting her nose gently.

He then climbed inside the same window Y/n had and quietly listened, he heard a body fall to the ground with a thud and moan; infected. He searched the room he was in the noticed the vending machine in front of the door; he pushed it out of the way as quietly as possible and noticed the opening.

Crawling through the opening was kind of hard, once through he pushed the cabinet out of the way and opened the door fully in case he needed a quick escape.

The flashlight shown across the room showed nothing but dead bodies, no live ones. He then noticed an open door on the other side of the room, 'clear it and look for supplies' he thought to himself.

Once inside the room he noticed it was an old holdup, he looked around the room; empty. He walked further into the room then gasped as someone attacked him from behind "hey!" he called out struggling with the person.

Y/n was flipped over the shoulders of the intruder and had a gun pointed at their face. They used one hand to shield the light from the flashlight attached to the person's backpack "Please dont.." he whimpered.

"Y/n?!" he looked closer after the light was turned down "Jesse?" he asked hopefully hoping this wasn't some pain and hunger-induced hallucination.

"You're alive!" Jesse cried pulling him close and hugging him for dear life.

Y/n hugged back tears coming down in streams "you came for me," he whimpered "of course I did, when Thomas came back all cut up and fake crying, I knew something happened..." he said pulling away and holding Y/n's face in his hands again.

"He did this.."Y/n whispered closing his eyes and leaning into his touch "what?" "Once I got through the door to clear the infected, he threw a noise bomb, told me 'good luck getting out faggot' and he ran," Y/n said sobbing softly.

Jesse's anger was almost overflowing but for now, he needed to get Y/n back to Jackson. "Think you can walk? Pat is still outside," Y/n nodded and they slowly made their way outside.

"Where is her saddle?" Y/n asked leaning against Jesse for support. "I don't know, but you can ride with me, I'll lead her back home."

The arrival back to Jackson was filled with rushing to get Y/n medical attention and yelling. Jesse waving a gun in Thomas' face yelling at him for leaving Y/n the way he did.

Once things calmed down, Jesse visited Y/n at home, his injuries weren't serious so he was fed and sent home.

Jesse knocked on the door, that next morning. A soft "come in," prompted him to open the door and peek his head in before going in.

"How you doin Bug?" he asked sitting next to Y/n on the bed. "I'm okay, better now that I'm fed," he chuckled setting down the book he was reading and looking over at Jesse.

"Thomas is being kicked from the town," Jesse said flat out "I.."Y/n looked away with his eyebrows crunched "because of me?"

"Hey, he left you to die," Jesse used his hand to bring Y/n's face to look at him "He might as well have murdered you himself, that goes against all our town rules and morals Y/n"

Y/n nodded gently and sighed looking up at Jesse "Thank you.." he whispered "For looking for me," Jesse smiled a bit and shrugged "I couldn't leave you to die, I.." he bit his lip and looked away.

Y/n felt annoyance fill him, he shifted until he sat up "you what?" he said, he's tired of Jesse doing this "Care for you," he said looking back.

"You always do that..." he said shaking his head and picking up his book again "do what?"

Y/n looked at him before dropping the book back onto the bed and getting out of it limping away from Jesse "You always go 'I...care about you,' like you don't mean it or something, it annoying"

"I do care for you!" Jesse argued, standing and following behind him "Then prove it!" Y/n said turning around and throwing his hands in the air "I just saved your life!" Jesse shouted moving closer.

"That's...that not what I meant.." Y/n said with a cold laugh and crossed his arms leaning against his desk.

"After all these years Jesse...After years of flirting with you..you still don't get it, do you?" Jesse furrowed his brow and crossed his arms and slowly moved forward.

"What do you mean?" he asked stopping in front of Y/n, who refused to look at him. "Look at me," Y/n refused "Look at me" Jesse grabbed Y/n's chin and made him look up and in his eyes.

Y/n couldn't help himself, he lunged forward pressing his lips against Jesse's and wrapping his arms around his neck. He poured his heart and soul out into that kiss hoping that Jesse would understand what he was trying to say.

He slowly pulled away and stared at Jesse's shocked face "Get it now?" his voice was soft and filled with anxiety, hoping he didn't just ruin a wonderful friendship.

Jesse nodded before leaning over and capturing Y/n's lips in another kiss, this time it was fast and needy. Teeth clashed and hands were in hair, Jesse lifted Y/n up onto the desk and moved closer to him, soft grunts leaving the two men in the process.

A knock on the door interrupted them. They pulled away panting for air "Y/n!!" a voice yelled from outside the door, June.

Jesse stepped away and Y/n stepped off the desk, he then limped over to the door and opened it.

June lunged at him hugging him tightly causing him to fall to the floor unexpectedly. "Woah! June!" Y/n laughed and Jesse rushed forward and pulled June off of Y/n "Careful June, he's still sore,"

June looked towards Jesse then back at Y/n, noting their messy hair and flushed faces "And what were you two doing in here?" She giggled smirking a bit "Shut up," Jesse blushed and playfully kicked her from her spot on the floor.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #397

“you’re my religion, you’re my reason to live  /  you are the heaven in my hell”

Do you think that you’ll always love who you love now? Even if we're never together again romantically, I will ALWAYS love her at least as a best friend. Have you ever made out with a random person? Yeah, no. If you could do your first kiss over, would you? No. I'm lucky that my first kiss was honestly cute as hell. Do you like your country’s president or prime minister? Well I voted for him, so I obviously can't hate him. He seems to be doing fine so far, though take that with a grain of salt seeing as I don't keep up with politics. Even before voting for him, I just did a small bit of researching on his values. What color is your house? Yellow with white accents. Do you listen to Christmas music during the holiday season? No, I don't enjoy it. Man, Jason's mom sure did, though... I loved how in the spirit she'd get and always played Christmas music in the car during that time of year. I miss that woman and I sure as hell hope she rests easy now. Do you like ginger ale? Solely if I have a stomach bug, and I can only ever sip it. What are you listening to? "Electric Sugar Pop" by Jeffree Star. What’s the last thing you watched on TV? The TMS office has the TV on, and the woman who overlooks it (I have zero idea what her position is called) tends to have it either on a cooking channel or a home improvement one. Today was a cooking one. Is your favorite author the author of your favorite book? I don't have a favorite author. Describe someone you find really attractive: M-Mark Fischbach. *___* If you HAD to look like someone else, but could choose who, who would you choose? Hm... maybe my friend Alon. I've mentioned I feel like a million times that she is like, ethereal with how gorgeous she is. Have you ever seen someone get a tattoo done? If so, what was it? Did they cry or were they in a lot of pain? Yeah; it was a watercolor feather with "ohana" written below it. She didn't cry at all, but she grit her teeth a few times. Do you have anything you couldn’t go a day without? Some form of technology. Have you ever gotten caught doing something illegal? No. What’s your favorite flavor of Vitamin Water? I don't even think I've ever tried it. Is there someone you wanna date right now? Yeah. What first attracted you to the last person you kissed? If we're talking the very first, our vast similar interests. How many brothers does your father have? None. Does your best friend have any tattoos? No. Do you like Ben + Jerry’s? Yep. Man, I want their Phish Food ice cream now. Would you ever wish to be the opposite sex? Nah. Do you think you’re attractive? Nope. What is your favorite card game to play? Magic: The Gathering. I really miss my PS3 where I had Duel of the Planeswalkers installed on it, it was really fun. Do you own a globe? I don't think we still do. What is your favorite wild cat? Perhaps clouded leopards. If your bedroom had three portals to anywhere, where would they lead? South Africa, Sara's place, and maybe a nice little cabin in the mountains for when I'm feeling a peaceful getaway. You can ask any author one question about their story. What do you ask? I have zero idea. What’s a place you have a strong emotional connection to? The pond behind the local community college. Jason and I took our first prom pictures there. Do you take yoga classes? No, but I'm actually considering it since they offer those at the YMCA Mom and I now go to. What is a decision you’ve made that changed your entire life? To let Jason go. It's pretty great, my PTSD has been less of a bother lately! Have you ever made any money from a side-hustle? Could you consider being paid to take pictures once in a blue moon a "side hustle" when I don't even have a main job? Do you ever wonder what kind of person you’d have turned out to be if a certain event never happened to you? Ugh... it's incredibly painful to wonder how life would be if Jason never left. If you could have anyone’s singing voice, whose would you choose? Adele's or Amy Lee's, probs. What are your top 3 favorite genres of music? Metal, hard rock, alternative. Do you think Mars will be colonized in your lifetime? No. Have you ever been homeless? If so, what led to your homelessness? Technically, yes, because Mom couldn't afford the rent. She, my little sister (who still lived with us at the time), and I each were accepted into the homes of willing, kind people, though. Have you ever been on a ship? No. Who was Van Halen’s better singer - David Lee Roth, or Sammy Hagar? David. Which fictional character has the most memorable quotes? Heath Ledger's Joker is quoted all the time, so probably him. What do you think of the "Healthy At Every Size" movement/philosophy? Before I answer this, I want you to keep in mind that this is coming from someone who is obese, so I would positively love to agree with that for my own self-confidence, but I don't. I believe it's a very dangerous mentality. I think you should cherish your body unconditionally, like it's an amazing machine, but I firmly believe you should have an active interest in becoming what is physically healthy. You couldn't pay me millions to convince me that, say, a 300 lb. person is healthy. What was the name of the first person you ever had a crush on? Why did you like them? I think my first *real* crush was this guy Sebastian my freshman year of high school. I thought he was very sweet, funny, caring, and attractiveness was a bonus. What food will you absolutely not, under any circumstances, eat? Sashimi, caviar, raw eggs... Which famous person would you like to be BFFs with? Bindi Irwin, for one. What kind of natural disaster is most common where you live? Hurricanes. Have you ever had an animal get into your attic? No. Have you ever been bitten so hard that there teeth marks were there after? I mean I've had hickeys before if that's what you're asking. Ever gave one? Oh, I guess you were. Yeah. Do you think its weird if guys wear make-up like eyeliner? Not at all. Would you ever date a disabled person? (Be honest) Yes. Would you rather adopt or have your own child? IF I wanted kids, I'd rather have one myself because I'm well aware I personally need that special connection. Stepkids count, too, because they'd be my partner's and therefore very important for me too. What is the most personal question you have ever been asked? Probably TMI, so here's your fair warning, but I've been asked before if I "touch" myself and I was absolutely repulsed that someone would ask me that. Were you abused by your parents? No. If you’re not straight, who was the first person you came out to? Sara. Were you one of the smartest in your class? Up to finishing high school, modestly, I was. Where did you meet your first crush? Art class my freshman year of high school. Do you ever go places with wet hair? Yeah, idc. Who is your favorite little girl? My niece Aubree. She's such a wonderful girl. Does your best friend have kids? No. If you were pregnant, would you want a boy or a girl? Hypothetically, a girl. What place outside of your own home do you spend the most time at? Um, maybe my older sister's house? Have you ever participated in a medical study? No. Do you have any family members who are cancer survivors? Yes, including my mother. Twice. Are you allergic to any medications? None that I've tried. Do you have any licenses other than your driver's license? I don't even have that. If you’re atheist, would you raise you kids believing in God or not? No; I wouldn't intervene with their own spiritual (or lack thereof) journey. They'd learn what they'd learn and decide themselves what they believe. Do you like reading self-help books? No, I just can't get invested in those. What is your opinion on sex change? If you're unhappy with your body, you're more than free to surgically change that with no judgment from me. Do you have any goals for this summer? If so, what are they? Yes, to lose weight. Can you get a strike at bowling? I have before. There was one occasion where my first go was a strike RIGHT after saying I sucked at bowling, hahaha. Do you ever take pictures of negative moments? Well, I photograph roadkill, and that's one hell of a sad moment. I actually wouldn't mind broadening my horizons of photographing negative moments (with permission of course), because I actually find these very impactful and even builds empathy. I will never, ever forget this one picture I saw sometime of an emaciated boy huddled in the dirt with a vulture close by watching him... like fuck, it made me want to sob. No one should ever have to live like that, especially a child. Would you ever post a picture of yourself crying on social media? No. I know that sounds contradictory to what I just said, I just wouldn't be able to do it myself. Have you ever held a newborn baby? Once, when my last niece was born. I'm terrified of holding them because they're just so fragile. Do you know anyone who has twins? My friend just had triplets. What is your favorite country in Europe? Germany. Are you thriving in your life right now? BOY HOWDY- Do you remember to water plants? I don't keep plants. Name three YouTubers you aspire to be like. 1.) Markiplier in a vast plethora of ways; 2.) Jeffree Star for his incredible work ethic; and 3.) Shane Dawson for his incredible compassion. Yes. I know the controversy, but regardless, he cares a lot about people. Who is your favorite character from Harry Potter? I wouldn't know, given I haven't read the books or seen the movies. Do you watch PewDiePie? Not anymore; his content doesn't interest me anymore. I watched him religiously back in the day when he was a serious let's player, though. Do you have a Steam account? Yes. Have you ever played Five Nights at Freddy’s? No, not personally. I like watching LPs of it and I find the story fascinating, but it's not the kind of game I'd enjoy playing. Have you ever tried Akinator? Yes. I don't think I ever beat it, except maybe once. Are you wearing socks right now? No; unless I'm wearing closed-toe shoes like sneakers, I never do. I hate the feeling of them. Can you twerk? Haven't tried, don't wanna. Do you like dabbing? No, it looks stupid. Do you like fishing? I honestly do think it's fun with all the anticipation and thrill of seeing how big the fish is, however I don't support it anymore unless, like hunting, you genuinely need it for food. The only case where I'd go again was if my dad asked me, because that's always been our bonding experience. Do you have a Spotify account? Yes. Have you heard of Blizzard Entertainment? Well, they're the company behind World of Warcraft, so obviously. Do you like bananas? Yes, but only for a VERY short window of time. I am beyond picky with the ripeness of bananas. Are you addicted to anything? Caffeine and technology. Do you know your phone number? I actually don't. Do you swear in front of children? No.

[milliethekitty27-writing]

Home Is Where the Heart Is

Alfred has a house in Washington D.C. Obviously. It’s his capital city. He listened to eons of fighting over where they’d put the capital after Philadelphia and New York weren’t enough anymore, and D.C. got a White House and a Capital and all other fun things. Don’t get him wrong, D.C. was fun! But it was exhausting. Meetings and expensive lunches and expensive parking lots. He could break away sometimes, go to the Mall and look at the museums, photobomb tourists, or hop onto the metro and go look at the zoo.

Sometimes, though, D.C. was too much and he wanted to get away.

Every nation lives in their capital, it’s true. Alfred has a townhouse, with one room dedicated to his nerd stuff and an office dedicated to being a nation. His bedroom is clean and tidy and almost always lit by the glow of some electronic. His kitchen is small and cramped and he likes it that way, because whether he’s making Thanksgiving dinner or watching popcorn in the microwave his house can get lonely. He’s been to Arthur’s London apartment, he’s sat in Matthew’s flat in Ottawa to watch hockey games, he was there to help move a dining table in to Ludwig’s Berlin condo.

Every nation, though, has places they love. 

Matthew has a house in the middle of nowhere up in the very north of Yukon. He goes up for a month in the winter or in the summer, whenever he can get away, and lives off the land, or he goes to his house in Quebec to sink back into his Francophone side. He’ll go to Toronto and stay in his apartment for a bit to catch a hockey game or off to Vancouver to enjoy life on the west coast. Arthur lives mostly in London, but he’ll go to his modest cottage in Kent or off to Northumberland for a bit. Francis might live in Paris for most of the year, but he’ll go south to the beaches in the summer or into the very north to visit Belgium. 

Alfred? Oh, his country is wide and beautiful and full of anything he could want. He has a cabin in Alaska for when his itch for adventure pulls him to the great outdoors, for fishing and hiking and bears and dumb brothers who throw snowballs. He’s got an apartment in Louisiana right in the prime location for Mardi Gras but not too close to the Quarter. He’s got a home in New York (state, not the city) to go stay in the middle of nowhere in the woods when Alaska is just a bit too far. 

That’s not to say that Alfred doesn’t go anywhere else! He loves the Delaware beaches, the fresh peaches in Georgia. He loves the Grand Canyon and all it has to offer him. He goes to Hawaii every year even if only for a little, because it is beautiful there for all its problems, just to swim with sharks and admire the fish. He loves visiting things. He may not love his politic but he loves what his country (what he?) has to offer.

He has had other houses too, old ones. He grew up in Virginia, where Arthur would come to visit smelling of salt and tea and spices, and that had been sold after the revolution because he didn’t own it. He had a home in Philadelphia, small and cramped but very cozy, but that had mostly been empty when he’d been at George’s side and he’d sold it when the capital was settled. His house in Kansas had been flattened by a tornado and the Depression had struck before he could rebuild it. He’d gotten tired of the heat of Florida, especially after being bitten by an alligator. (how do you explain why you didn’t lose a limb to your neighbors even though they saw it almost ripped off?) California was always on fire and he was tired of rebuilding. He’d gotten frostbite living in Michigan in the 1800s and he’d had enough of that. (plus Matthew had come over on a boat, kicked his ass for something, then disappeared into the night. That had been hard to explain to his neighbors too. Matt causes a lot of his problems, but that’s what brothers do.)

So yes, Alfred lives in Washington D.C. Of course he does. That’s where he works, that’s where he fulfills his duty as Nation. It’s just... that’s not only place he lives. Alfred loves to walk through small Texas towns and find the best barbecue, he loves to sit on his porch in Alaska and hear an eagle somewhere in the sky. He loves to sink into the crowd during Mardi Gras and only head up to his apartment to pee. He lives in his capital because he works there, but he is more than just Washington D.C.

Home is where the heart is, and his heart is all over the nation. 

----

Thank you for reading!

I thought about where Alfred would live and I picked a few places that I liked or that I thought would be good getaways. I loved Louisiana but it’s too hot for me. Too many bugs. Either way, there’s no way a nation doesn’t just disappear into their wilds for at least a little between trips and meetings. I imagine that as long as they can be reached, it’s not a big deal. Unless their boss is a big bitchy baby. But that’s a different thing…

[kilmokea]

Self Funded Private Gardens of County Wexford on the Wexford Garden Trail

Out of the earth, these garden owners

are creating living miracles.

  These Gardens of Wexford have a few things in common which inspire them to keep going, be creative and open their gates to the public. They are all in County Wexford, privately owned and  managed and are self-funded. Together with Garden Centres and Government funded Gardens they are members of The Wexford Garden Trail. This trail welcomes visitors and their members are more than happy to assist with any information visitors require to enjoy their visits to the Gardens and Garden centres of County Wexford.

There really is something special and treasured about Irish Gardens. They represent a natural environment of plants and trees taking in carbon and releasing oxygen into the air while their roots stabilize the soil and filter water. As trees reduce air pollution they help us to breathe better. Spending time within a natural setting often reduces our stress & improves our sleep. Just being among trees is good for our wellbeing and they make a lovely setting for walking, an activity shown to reduce stress and illness. With roots reaching deep into the earth, trees have excellent grounding energy. Indeed the healing powers of a garden have been portrayed in art and literature since our earliest beginnings. Out of the earth these garden owners are creating living miracles.

Nature has long been known for its relaxing qualities. Visiting gardens is so good for our health having vital positive effects on mental health as they boost our mood and generally make us feel more cheery. The Holistic benefits are huge. Relaxation, stress reduction and the value of improved quality of life to name but a few.

So much inspiration can be received through visiting gardens to assist the creation of our own garden too. Meeting the gardeners and owners adds enormously to the visit.

The sharing of valuable knowledge and stories while appreciating someone else’s hard work and creation adds to our lives. So often we are creating and planting for the future generation to enjoy so sharing knowledge cements the continuity of gardening systems. Stories of pioneering gardeners over the years who created and contributed to gardens over time add a depth to our visit helping us appreciate the garden while gaining inspiration for our own gardens. Great inspiration too for poets, artists and writers alike.

The visit provides us with the benefit of expanding our knowledge of horticulture, new technologies and making connections with like-minded people. They are a great way to introduce gardening as a hobby to children teaching them to nurture living things.

Some of the deepest preoccupations of thoughtful gardeners are the weather and the seasons. It is from Spring to Autumn, that magical time of year when many of Wexford’s self- funded private gardens open their gates to the public for you to explore.

 Forward by Emma Hewlett

Coolaught Gardens was created and is owned by Harry & Caroline Deacon

   “We were both probably always really into gardening but for me it started as an interest in growing to eat vegetables and fruit from a young age, but not into the floral side, I left that to my mother. She loved keeping the garden going and I was often called to help out, not really willingly I may add. When I married Caroline she was really interested as well, so much so that when they teamed up, I needed to find somewhere to escape to when they were both after me to do something or other!

   The years that followed saw us become more interested and the garden grew in size and to be fair it was Caroline was now the driving force but we visited more gardens in our time off and I suppose the gardening bug had bitten.

   The start of Coolaught Gardens really happened as a result of us deciding for the hell of it to enter what was then the National Garden competition, we came second in the Wexford section but we never realized how much it would impact us and by the end of the following week we had about 4 garden clubs asking us would we open the garden for viewing for their clubs! It seems that up to that point no private garden had come as high up the competition and a lot of people wanted to see this unknown garden. We started playing with the idea of opening the garden for a limited time Sundays 2 to 6 for the Summer months, but we underestimated the response, and we were run off our feet on those Sundays and the tours that came on weekdays again made us realize that we were going to have to open more days to spread the load. We opened from Wednesday through to Sunday next and after that we opened the full seven days and of course by then we had added the garden centre  and the garden during this time had also more than doubled in size and now stands at more than 2.5 acres. So even though now when the garden is closed we have the sales area to take care of.  

   We have loved the time we have spent in making the garden but we have also loved meeting all the like-minded people we have met through the past 20 years because of what we started here. True gardening folk are the best people you can be around, they are generally very positive people who work their way through every adversary, none have been tested as much as by what has happened in the last year. Things and situations have changed utterly for a lot of people, life as we know it has been turned on it's head, these lockdowns have had a devastating impact on families, business, economies across the world are suffering but nothing compared to the families of the people that have died. There has on the other hand been more time for parents to spend with their children, that has to be a bonus. The realization that most people won't be able to travel away for holidays and breaks has seen the nation change by being much more conscious of their homes and their gardens. After the first lockdown we started a call and collect service which I found very difficult. It is not the same as meeting with your customers face to face and making sure what they are buying will suit them, but as the Summer wore on and the economy opened we found that a lot of people had also found the joy of having the space around their homes and now wanted to make that area more beautiful and a place to relax and unwind in i.e. make a garden out of it! Last Summer all the tours both National and International were cancelled as were all the new Brides and Grooms that come for to take their photos in the garden. We were reluctant at first to open the garden as we weren't sure of the protocols to put in place to keep people safe but as we finally became more confident, we did open it and our new customers and old seemed to get new enjoyment from the garden and that also lifted our spirits.

     We have passed the first day of Spring St. Bridget's day and even though the weather is still dismal, that too will change the days are getting longer and warmer and Summer will come again and eventually Covid will be consigned to the history  books and life will return to the new normal. We will look forward to meeting both our regular customers and those that have been bitten with the gardening bug recently back to Coolaught Gardens again.”

Clonroche, Enniscorthy, Co. Wexford

  Telephone:

053 9244137

  Mobile:

087 6446882

  Email:

coolaughtgardens@eircom.net

  Website:

www.facebook.com/coolaughtgardens

  Contact:

Caroline & Harry Deacon

  Opening Hours:

Garden is open Mid May to Mid September, or by appointment to individuals and groups Garden Centre open all year round.

 Glenavon Japanese Garden was created by and is owned by Iris Checkett.

“During the winter of 1999 I attended gardening classes run by Frances McDonald in Gorey Community School. As part of the course we were asked to design our dream gardens. I decided to create a Japanese themed garden. The garden developed over the next few years ,constructed by Drinagh Garden Centre. Originally based on the four seasons of the year over the years it has matured and changed.

Some years ago I joined The Wexford Garden Trail and opened my garden to the public for a few months in the summer. All proceeds are given to charity. The Garden Trail has helped enormously with the marketing of my garden through the Web site, Social Media and The Brochure. It is enormously beneficial too for our garden visitors as we introduce them to the trail and suggest other gardens for them to visit and Garden centres for them to purchase plants and garden related tools, compost, pots and ornaments.

Unfortunately, because of the pandemic last year there were very few visitors and this year I hope Government restrictions allow more people to avail of the wonderful spaces we have all created in the Wexford Garden Trail for visitors to enjoy safely.

Working in the garden keeps me fit and gives me the opportunity to meet like-minded people. Hopefully these visitors get as much pleasure from the beauty of the garden as I do, and the peaceful place helps them to reduce the stresses of life.

Each season brings its own particular pleasures. In Spring we have the beauty of the Cherry Blossom. Summer features Hydrangeas, Autumn, the Liquid Amber walk and in Winter all the grasses.

Of course, there are problems associated with any garden. The area is all macamore soil so it requires quite a lot of chicken manure and hard work. I have to contend with the Macamore soil and Mr Heron repeatedly comes for my fish! On the upside I buy all my replacement plants and receive help and advice from my good friends in Springmount Garden Centre. Nothing takes away from the pleasure and enjoyment of being surrounded by the beauty of a garden. I love Glenavon Japanese Garden and enjoy every moment I have in this gorgeous space.

Glen Richards, Courtown Harbour, Gorey, Co. Wexford

  Telephone:

053 9425331

  Mobile:

085 2048737

  Email:

irischeckett@eircom.net

  Website:

www.facebook.com/glenavonjapanesegarden

  Contact:

Iris Checkett

  Opening Hours:

Sunday and Friday May to August 2pm – 5pm, or by appointment to individuals and groups.

  Kilmurray Gardens was created and is owned by Paul & Orla Woods

Opening your garden to the public is a work of passion it requires complete dedication and a little bit of lunacy which we have in spathes. It is a moving feast which is never complete but which hopefully inspires people to try and achieve parts of it in their own garden space. Opening your garden requires courage as you are opening yourself up to other people opinions and criticism but it also can give you huge rewards for all the hours you are on your hands and knees weeding. Our greatest concern is when people return from a walk in the garden with armfuls of flowers they have picked to see if we have it for sale in the nursery a tight lipped smile usually is the response with a gentle reminder not to pick the flowers. The responses can be quite amusing.

The development of our garden started in conjunction with the development of the nursery as we found people enjoyed seeing the plants they were interested in buying growing in a garden. It is planted in an informal style with the inclusion of pond areas over the past few years. We completed our long border in a formal setting six years ago and they give a formal entrance into the garden joined to the more informal areas. My favourite spot is sitting in the long borders surrounded by hornbeam hedging completely surrounded by foliage and flowers. It is the most perfect tranquil spot. My favourite plants are definitely the ones that continue flowering for a long time like Alstroemeria and are wonderful cut flowers for the house and also the scented ones like phlox and paeonias which are brief but in the few weeks they flower give so much joy. Our gardening opening is self- funded as we have a donation box for the RNLi in Courtown which we are past crew of and which our daughter has now joined. Our greatest pleasure is seeing people enjoying the space we have created and sitting and relaxing which in these times is so important .Our opening last year was hampered with Covid regulations but hopefully when summer arrives we will be able to reopen and allow people to enjoy our space

 Kilmurry Nursery, Gorey, Co. Wexford

  Telephone:

053 9480223

  Mobile:

086 8113171 / 086 8180623

  Email:

kilmurrynursery@eircom.net

  Website:

www.kilmurrynursery.com

  Contact:

Paul & Orla Woods

  Opening Hours:

Nursery Open Jan-March Mon-Friday 10-5 March 30th -Sept 27th open Monday-Saturday-10-5pm 30th Sept-13th December -Monday -Friday-10am-5pm

  Entrance Fee:

Donation to Courtown RNLI

 Kilmokea Gardens is owned by Mark & Emma Hewlett

“Ancient garden heritage goes back to earliest settlers. In the seventh Century the patron Saint of gardening, Saint Fiachra was adopted. He holds a special place in our hearts as the Kilmokea Monastic site dates back to this time. It is situated next to the walled garden.

When the Church of Ireland purchased the Monastic lands to build the rectory for the Rector of White Church, the fruit and vegetables for the house were grown in the walled Garden. Today it is home to a series of interchanging garden rooms with herbaceous planting, rose gardens and sheltered garden seats positioned to reflect on the beauty of the place. My favourite place is our Italian Loggia and pool which I have adopted as my summer office. As the business has grown, I become more office bound so I may as well be close to the garden on my laptop! Without doubt Roses are my favourite summer flowers and Hellebores in the spring. Many of the healing properties of the flowers and plants in the garden are now bottled as last lockdown I completed a flower essence course and these will be available to purchase in the Conservatory. To further assist the health and wellbeing of our guests we are introducing the concept of ‘Forest Bathing’ in the woodland garden. This Japanese practise known as ‘Shinrin Yoku is a simple method of being calm and quite amongst trees, observing nature around you while breathing deeply. A wonderful way to de-stress and boost the immune system at the same time.

We have been maintaining the seven acres of gardens for 24 years now and have weathered many storms! One of the first things we did was to build a large wooden Conservatory which is our Café where we offer guests lunch and afternoon tea. We then created a new food garden where fruit and vegetables are grown using organic methods for the kitchen which feeds guests staying in the house, self catering cottages and are essential ingredients for our lunch menu the conservatory café. This is really important to us as our philosophy of “ground to fork” is ingrained in our objectives.

Since the food travels only a few feet to reach the plate in the Conservatory Café, it is more sustainable. We strive to offer local & sustainable food and food grown with Organic methods to our guests and our family.

Our parents were all keen gardeners and fostered an interest in Gardens and nature and the outdoors. When we first started caring for the gardens my father would drive down from Dublin arriving at 8am, peel himself out of his low Honda and put on his overalls to mow the lawns and tend to the Roses. He was great inspiration and got involved in many of our early projects, giving advise, even when it wasn’t needed! Over the years we have created a large new food garden, which is very close to our hearts. We have built board walks and wooden structures in the woodland garden, designed fairy houses & viking boats and planted many hundreds of plants not to mention spending many hundreds of hours weeding! We now employ a full time gardener who gardens five days a week. We are very involved with decision making, planning new plantings, building structures, graveling pathways and discussing all the planting of seeds for the Vegetables and Flowers.  We are totally indebted to Marty Reville our gardener who tends to the gardens with the love and passion which we hold for the gardens. With him we have created no-dig vegetable beds and he is extending biodiversity throughout the gardens. Large bug hotels are the latest structures! We really hope Government restrictions allow us to open Kilmokea Gardens to visitors this season, and we look forward to welcoming you”.

Great Island, Campile, Co Wexford

  Telephone:

051 388109

  Mobile:

086 6641946

  Email:

stay@kilmokea.com

  Website:

www.kilmokea.com

  Contact:

Mark & Emma Hewlett

  Opening Hours:

Opening hours. 10am to 5pm

March 17th to end of May. September & October. Wednesday to Sunday

June, July, August. Every Day.

  Entrance Fee:

Adults €7; OAP €6; Children under 16 €4; Children under 2 Free; Groups welcome. Up to 12.5% discount for groups of over 20

 Marlfield House Gardens

 Marlfield House is owned by The Bowe Family and managed by Margaret and Laura Bowe 

 When our parents Mary and Ray Bowe bought Marlfield House just outside Gorey in 1977 it was with the intention of opening the house and gardens to guests as a country house hotel. The Dower house of the Courtown Estate, the Earls of Courtown had entertained lavishly in both Marlfield and the nearby Courtown House. With Marlfield’s opening as a hotel in 1978 it began again to welcome guests from all over the world. 

 The garden was smaller then and has been developed and extended  extensively by Mary and Ray in the early days.  On 36 acres in total there are 12 acres in woodland walks and garden today. While the gardens have always been enjoyed by hotel guests, since opening ‘The Duck Restaurant’ in 2015 the number of people  coming to enjoy a coffee, lunch or dinner and a wander in the gardens has multiplied tenfold. The restaurant is located in a long stone building with French doors opening onto a sandstone terrace overlooking the kitchen garden filled with vegetables, soft fruits, a plethora of herbs and beds of blooming roses! Our guests enjoy seeing  chefs picking herbs, vegetables and salad as they dine  al fresco on the south facing Terrace.  The ‘garden to plate’ ethos could not be more evident!

It brings us great pleasure to see our garden enjoyed by so many. 

 Woodlands form the back drop of the garden, with meandering paths through a kitchen garden of herbs, vegetables and fruits. Long borders of shrubs and herbaceous perennials flank a yew hedge and lead to the lawns and formal gardens. 

 The duck pond  forms a completely separate garden to the front of the hotel and the island, reached by a wooden bridge, has beautiful specimen shrubs and trees. It has only recently become the location of five private stand alone pond suites where guests can sleep, each in its own grounds amid oak and chestnut trees, surrounded by nature.  The many paddling ducks, waterhen, squirrels, rabbits and George our peacock are happy to share this piece of the garden with those sleeping in the pond suites!

 Spring is our favourite season and our gardener Sean Kehoe plants thousands of daffodils and tulips annually. Unfortunately in 2020 the pleasure of seeing the carpets of daffodils and rainbows of tulips and Camellias was  confined to those on social media , and it seems that history might repeat itself this Spring!  But our herb and rose gardens will be filled with a plethora of colour of blooms and fragrances and enjoyed  by many this Summer when we are very hopeful that Covid restrictions will lift.  

 We are Looking forward to welcoming lots of people back to Marlfield and our gardens this year. Now more than ever we all need to Enjoy nature and spending time with each other, enjoy the outdoors, the beauty of our county and its gardens and produce  and be grateful for the beautiful gardens in the Wexford Garden Trail. 

  Courtown Road R742, Gorey, Co Wexford

  Telephone:

053 9421124

  Email:

info@marlfieldhouse.ie

  Website:

www.marlfieldhouse.com

  Contact:

Margaret & Laura Bowe

  Opening Hours:

Garden visit and Lunch/Afternoon Tea by appointment (March to December)

  Entrance Fee:

€12.00 which includes morning coffee or afternoon tea with dressed scones in Marlfield House Hotel

    Wexford Lavender Farm

My name is Moira Hart, I am the Owner and Manager of Wexford Lavender Farm, a privately run garden and tourism business located 10 km north of Gorey in North Co. Wexford.

We opened to the public in April 2014 with 2 acres of lavender plants in a field located close to old disused stables, which we had converted into our Café/Giftshop prior to opening.

We are currently Irelands’ only dedicated commercial lavender farm and added a second 2 acre field in 2018 with 5,000 more lavender plants.  We planted rows of English Lavender Hidcote, English Lavender Rosea, Dutch lavender Grosso and some English Lavender Munstead.    My late mum (Betty) was a keen organic gardener, animal lover and bee keeper, my love of gardening, lavender and animals comes from her and after visiting many lavender farms in England (I grew up in rural Dorset) decided to set up my own business here in Ireland.  We’re (mostly) fortunate with the weather here in Co. Wexford and grow the English Lavender varieties which are hardy.

Farming anything involves lots of hard work, a passion for what you love and lots of energy, especially in the busy Summer months when the lavender is in bloom and visitor numbers are high.  We keep ducks, chickens, goats, ponies and horses too, which all need looking after 365 days a year, whatever the weather.  Being self-employed it’s important to be self-motivated and drive yourself forward.

When we first opened the business our daughters (Clara & Martha) were 6 and 9, I didn’t have any experience running a business, managing staff or working in a café so to say it was a steep learning curve would be a big understatement!  Seven years later our daughters are now involved working in the business in the summer months when school is closed.  We have a fantastic, hardworking team working alongside us, being a seasonal business can be difficult with staffing as its ‘all hands-on-deck’ during the summer then nothing during the winter.

We were at the beginning of planning and building a wooden Maze as an extension to the Lavender Farm in January 2020 when COVID-19 arrived unwelcomed into our lives, with this unknown threat and all the uncertainty it brought, I decided reluctantly to halt plans for 2020.   We eventually re-opened on 30th June 2020 and had a strong but short domestic season in between Lockdown one and two, with so many people not being able to travel abroad.  The Maze plans are back on track and will be built before June 2021. This will be a welcome addition to the business, as well as being the only wooden Maze in Ireland, it will not be dependent on the lavender flowering season (mid June through early September).

The first Covid lockdown was a welcome break, with fantastic weather and time-off that I hadn’t had through the spring/early summer since opening but this latest Lockdown has been tough on everyone and the very wet winter has made getting outdoor maintenance jobs impossible for the time-being.  

We are SO looking forward to Summer, lavender, visitors, long days and being outside with nature and the things we love!

   Coolnagloose, Inch, Gorey, Wexford, Y25 NW42

  Telephone:

087 068 6774

  Email:

info@wexfordlavenderfarm.com

  Website:

www.wexfordlavenderfarm.com

  Contact:

Moira Hart

  Opening Hours:

Closed January, February & March.

Opening 1st May (if restrictions allow) to Mid September: Tuesday - Sunday: 10.30am - 5pm (plus Bank Holiday's)

Mid September to December: Saturday & Sunday: 10.30am - 5pm

  Entrance Fee:

€5 per car in June, July & August

      Woodville Gardens

 Gerald Roche is a farmer and gardener at Woodville, New Ross where his family have lived since 1876.

 As a farmer I know that I am simply a custodian of the farm for subsequent generations.  A garden is just the same. A garden is shaped by the tastes and fashions of each generation that works in it but it goes on from one generation to the next.  So it is with the gardens at Woodville, the apple and pear trees were planted by my grandmother, I think in the 1930s, so they are well past their prime though still productive and a strong structural element in the garden as many of them are espaliered. My interest in gardening came later in life with the realisation that gardening is an all absorbing occupation, once bitten by the gardening bug, there is no escape.  The garden is not a chore, as a gardener, one wants to be in the garden planning, planting, shaping, altering, propagating.  

 At Woodville the walled garden was laid out when the house was built in the early 1800s. It was extended and remodelled in the 1830s and further developed in the 1880s when it was acquired by PJ Roche. He extended the house and built a conservatory.  He also extended the existing glasshouse by building a vinery.  These houses came from the Messenger Company in England and having restored the conservatory a few years ago and more recently, the peach house, the Messenger greenhouse, home to the vines, is my next project.  I have sourced the timber and the help, we will probably lose this year’s crop of grapes unless we have a very warm summer.

 In the last decade of the 19th century, plentiful labour and cheap coal meant these glasshouses were both productive and ornamental, these days they are a labour of love.  The boilers are gone and they rely on solar gain to heat them, an uneven source of energy even with climate change.  I try to garden in as sustainable and environmentally friendly way as I can, using manure and compost produced on site and to choose plants that will flourish in this microclimate.

 These days, I look after the garden with the help of the family, a Teagasc student if one is available and the (very) occasional contractor. Help comes in the form of S.482 tax relief in return for which the gardens are opened to the public for two months each year.  Covid 19 put a big dent in the visitor numbers in 2020 and I expect the same for 2021 as we rely on garden tours from abroad for much of our income.

 Wet weather such as we have endured in January/February 2021 causes anxiety and impatience, even in a garden with free draining soil such as ours and spring sunshine and March breezes are eagerly anticipated. Small highs come from spotting the first bud or flower or fruit, comparing notes from other years.  Pleasure comes from the harvest of fruit and vegetables, sweet new carrots, pencil thin, big bowls of autumn raspberries, sculptural romanasco, artichokes, validating puddles of melted butter on the plate.  Satisfaction is a freezer filled with vegetables after summer evenings podding and chopping, blanching and bagging. Sweetcorn, broccoli and beans both broad and French, raspberries and blackcurrants all are saved and whatever else is surplus to the day’s requirements. Not for the gardener long days on the beach, those sunny days are spent mowing and edging lawns, harvesting and weeding and at the end of the day, a dash to the sea to cool down and wash off the dust.  Just as paper never refuses ink, gardens soak up labour.  There is never enough time, power tools have speeded up tasks but there is always more to be done.  

 In another era, an army of gardeners assisted by carpenters and painters maintained these gardens.  Today we do what we can as best we can and relish producing food for the table – nil food miles, kind to the environment.  It is an ongoing challenge but one we cherish.

    New Ross, Co Wexford

  Telephone:

051 422957

  Mobile:

087 9709828

  Email:

woodville05@eircom.net

  Website:

www.woodvillegardens.ie

  Contact:

Gerald Roche

  Opening Hours:

May – June: 10am – 2pm, or by appointment

  Entrance Fee:

€5.00

[arthurjdrake]

Painting By Numbers : Lydia & Arthur

TIMING: Current PARTIES: Arthur & @inspirationdivine SYNOPSIS: Arthur and Lydia are hired to restore a painting, little do they realise what else comes with the canvas. TW: None

When Arthur had received a rather cryptic call from Fran about the possibility of restoring a painting she couldn’t outright name that had unfortunately been damaged in transit from the Uffizi Gallery in Florence, his interest had immediately been piqued. There were countless in their collection - a great number of masterpieces and to have a chance to stand near to any one of them for any brief period of time would be an honour. Let alone to add in some small fashion to a legacy that had been revered and deified across the centuries. Apparently, it was such an important piece there had been a second specialist called in to aid in ensuring the job was done to the highest quality.

They were scheduled in for a week possibly more or work on this piece which had been placed in a moderately sized climate-controlled workshop attached to the gallery for any such necessary works. What Arthur hadn’t anticipated after swiping in with his ID on the reader and walking past a couple of security that were apparently an attaché to the painting was to come face to face with the one and only primavera. “Holy shit,” he breathed, the words hushed in reverence as he looked upon the intricate and detailed masterpiece that rested on a stand. Lifting his glasses up for just a moment to admire the piece with his natural sight before returning them to the bridge of his nose with a shake of his head, mesmerised by the piece. “Been a while since I’ve seen one of you…” he whistled under his breath, Fran hadn’t been joking about this one being important.

It wasn’t altogether uncommon for art restorers to collaborate on a piece together, although this was certainly the first time Lydia had collaborated with someone in White Crest. She’d heard of his work before, this Arthur fellow, and had only heard good things. So the call had been entirely welcome, although she wished she’d had a few more details as to the nature of the piece before she had arrived. Lydia stepped into the workshop and set down her bag by the door, before walking over to where the gentleman was that she was supposed to be working with. “Good afternoon. You’re Arthur, am I right?” she asked, offering her hand to shake as she turned to face the painting he was admiring. “Oh, wow, this is a beauty.”

Arthur was completely taken with the piece, it wasn’t often these days he could stand in the same room as something so magnificent. So Arthur was going to take all the time he could to appreciate this piece of work. That said, at the sound of footsteps approaching Arthur turned smoothly and smiled warmly at the woman approaching, “and you must be Lydia, I think we’ve spoken a little online yes?” he greeted in kind. Taking her hand to shake it, though the action while meaningful was brief to minimise skin-contact with him soon retracting his hands and tucking them into his pockets. It was hard to explain to people the excessive heat that seemed to radiate off him at any given time that was exceptionally noticeable on contact so it was easiest to try and minimise it if possible. “It’s stunning isn’t it? Have you seen a Botticelli before? It’s been an age since I’ve stood in front of one.”

“Yes, I believe so! You recommended the lighthouse as a viewing point. You were entirely right, by the way.” Lydia took his hand ever so briefly, thinking little of the warmth she felt ever so briefly. She turned her attention back to the painting, breathing deeply. Oh, you could see the Leanan Sidhe inspiration in this piece too, woven in to the inherent beauty of the piece. “Never for me to work on. I’ve seen one or two in private collections, recently.” She frowned as she heard a faint buzzing sound. “Oh, this is the worst part of summer. Insects get everywhere.”

“I did, yes,” Arthur’s grin brightened considerably to hear that she thought it was a nice place to go, “quite a vista up there wouldn’t you say? And rather peaceful with the waves rolling in.” But their respective attention turned to the masterpiece in the room. “No, I’m not sure that work of this calibre typically graces White Crest’s shores… But in this instance I suppose primavera has come to treat us both.” He stepped aside to where a few sets of gloves were placed alongside the necessary tools for the gouges that seemed to have taken out a fraction of Zephyrus’ face and Venus’ robes. He was pulling on a pair when Lydia spoke and he looked up “bugs? I didn’t notice anything when I came in… And I know Fran is particular about making sure this room is controlled to the best of her ability. Do you think it will be an issue?”

“No, I doubt it does, and certainly not on display that often.” Although Lydia knew first hand now that the inhabitants of Harris Island were sometimes older and much richer than one might assume. Or, thinking of Mercy, that they were more than eager to steal things that weren’t hers. “Do you have the report of what previous work was done on this piece?” She asked, slowly beginning her own analysis of the piece. Previous layers of paint and repairs - the back of the canvas revealed so much, like careful repairs to tiny tears. “I certainly hope not. I know Fran is meticulous, but… it is irritating. Can’t you hear it buzzing around?”

“No, it’s quite a gift. I just hope those that do get to see it can truly appreciate it for what it is,” Arthur remarked tilting his head to look once more at the figures poised within the frame. The classic Botticelli style apparent within their stances and the lengthened stature of their bodies delicate yet bold in its portrayal of the scene of Venus’ garden. “Yes,” he picked up a bound set of plastic wallets. “According to this the last restoration work done on it was around 1978 to restore the colouration of the paint which had darkened considerably over time.” He set the folder down once more, a small furrow appearing at his brow as Lydia drew his attention to focus on the buzzing. It was only when he moved nearer that he heard it, “oh dear… that’s not good.” He squinted wondering if he might be able to see what was making the noise but nothing came to view “can you see anything? I can hear the blighters…”

“I’m sure they will. How can you look at a piece like this and not appreciate it?” Lydia replied, reaching behind her to tie her hair back and out of the way so they could work. She picked up the plastic wallets, flicking through them to see what varnishes had been used and which had been removed. At least the last restorer had been meticulous in their notes, leaving a long trail of clues for Lydia and Arthur to follow up on. "I haven't the faintest idea where it is," she replied, as she heard something buzz right close to her ear. Lydia rubbed the back of her head. She froze, her fingers hovering over the skin just behind her ear, where her skin was swollen. "That horrible insect has bitten me!"

“You would hope so, unfortunately not everyone has the patience art often requires - particularly in this day and age.” It was a shame but not so many people wanted to walk through a gallery and few cared for the interpretation and meaning behind the pieces often put up on display or so he’d found. “That’s strange…” he remarked looking around and trying to spot the blighter, it was at Lydia’s exclamation that Arthur saw the bright emerald green critter just over her left shoulder. “There!” he tried to wave it away from her but it was faster than he’d anticipated, dipping mid-air out of the course his hand had taken and flitting behind him. Turning around to try and spy where it might’ve gone his eyes pivoted around the shop finding nothing but thin air. “That’s strange I was certain it was-- it was--” Arthur frowned, not realising the creature he was looking for had blended in with his own hair a mildly perplexed look crossing his features as a mildly disorentating sensation started to overcome him.

“Hey sweet pea, are you alright?” The woman speaking sat on a stool, holding a paintbrush in her left hand and easel in her right. She was tall and willowy, greying hair tied in a tight bun. She’d been painting, but not all of it was on the canvas in front of her - she’d painted her thighs, the easel, the window by which she sat. The girl she talked to glanced in the window, to find herself amongst the park scene her mother had been painting. It was dark out, so the windows were a mirror. Unlike her mom, her skin glowed. Where her mother had brown eyes, hers glowed blue, her teeth glinted pink, and her wings fidgeted uncomfortably. It was Lydia, still acne ridden as a teen. She held a loaf of bread in her hands, that she was slowly chewing.

“Mommie, I’m so hungry.” Her voice was plaintive, confused. Her stomach felt so heavy and thick, but her body still growled for more. She felt queasy with that gnawing, terrible hunger.

“Your father will be home soon. He’ll explain, my dear. You’ve just started early.”

“Started what early?”

Lydia’s mother stood up. She didn’t share her daughter’s ears, nor eyes, nor wings, but in so many other ways they were spitting images. They held themselves the same, and while Lydia’s hair was made of pearl it was undoubtedly her mother’s colour. Her mother smiled, cradling Lydia’s face in her paint covered hands.

“You know your father can explain better than I can. You’re being so brave, my dear. Just one more day, and he’ll help you.” She pressed a kiss to her daughter’s forehead, and Lydia hugged her gratefully.

Her mother staggered, and Lydia’s stomach felt less queasy.

“Oh non, pas encore!” the view followed a disgruntled man in his mid-fifties dressed in a sapphire blue tunic, black breeches and muddied riding boots as he swung down from the back of his mount who pranced with nervous energy. The moon sat high on the horizon illuminating vast farmlands otherwise deserted at this time of night as he walked towards the stone cemetery.

A group of three or four alghouls perched around the dug up remains of a grave busy stuffing their faces with decaying flesh and bone. The man turned moonlight reflecting off familiar features: Arthur, but older, black hair streaked with grey at the temples and a braided beard as he trudged into the space a familiar axe engraved with runes drawn from the scabbard on his back and a confidence of having done this several times before.

“Ça suffit,” the blade glinted in the moonlight before with a crunch it lodged in the neck of the first alghoul and dislodged with a forceful kick the other three hissing in anger and lurching back in surprise at the assault as a second swing had the head cleaved clean off leaving it twitching on the ground. How many times? They never learned.

The alghouls gnashed circling, but kept their distance taking the time to try and flank their prey. But as the second and third darted forwards, the axe was swung again, cleaving one clean through the shoulder near its neck causing it to wail inhumanly and topple ass over teakettle into a nearby set of rocks. But the third was faster, latching on to Arthur’s shoulder and biting down with razorlike teeth and ripping away with a bloody chunk of flesh drawing out a pained cry as he jabbed the tip of his axe forwards to pry the creature loose and shove it away staggering back panting with the effort. The second was trying to right itself, but limped from the tear of the freshly sharpened blade and where it tried to dive forwards Arthur side-stepped and grunted as he drew the axe back and down dispatching its head that rolled to a stop near another grave.

The scene played on, assailants taking swipes out of one another until a bloodied Arthur seemed to come to a conclusion and where he stood in the middle of the cemetery flames erupted around his body. A living pyre of flame and heat in the silhouette of a blazing gold and orange bird soaring up amongst them that had the two remaining alghouls screeching and trying to turn their eyes away as they stumbled, blinded. Using this to his advantage he lunged forwards, and two more heads were added to the pile as the flames died away leaving Arthur alone once more bleeding but alive in the middle of a graveyard. Exhausted, he dropped to his knees besides one such grave touching the piled stones carefully. “You’re safe… I’ll protect you.”

Lydia crumbled to the floor of Fran’s workspace. It wasn’t that the bite hurt, but it was the feeling that she had left something in the other room, although she never had. Something was missing. Unlike memories that faded over time, crumbled, but this was a sudden, sharp loss, something she couldn’t identify. The more she tried to remember, the more she tried to chase whatever it was she’d forgotten, the more she found something else. It sat in her head jarringly. Whatever it was, definitely not hers.

She saw it through his eyes. He was tall, his axe glinting in the moonlight. Lydia recoiled as he charged through the monstrous beasts, slashing into their necks without flinching. She remembered how the adrenaline had charged through him. She could smell the rain and mud as he worked, methodically. Lydia recoiled as she remembered the sharp pain in her shoulder. She - or he - was surrounded, the beasts readying to draw their last breath. She remembered weighing her options, both not what those options were until her skin burned, and erupted into flames. What followed was exhilarating, terrifying. Nothing like Lydia had never seen nor heard of.

Lydia blinked away the memory of the gravestones uncomfortably. “What was that? Did you see that? The man in the graveyard?”

Arthur wasn’t sure how he managed to stay standing at Lydia staggered and fell, perhaps it was the strange sense of fulfilling nourishment that seemed to have filled him as he blinked out of the strange vision that felt so achingly familiar. Away from a place that felt like home to the rather jarring appearance of a painting on a stand and Fran’s workshop.

How had he forgotten about that? No, he hadn’t forgotten… Or had he? There was a keen sense of something missing and yet in such a vast catalogue of memories who could say for certain? He’d forgotten many things over the centuries. His mother and father’s faces lost to the river of time. Yet this felt like an acute and sudden loss and the more his mind chased after whatever it was that felt as if it had been taken the more his head started to ache.

His hand went to his temple rubbing it at the throb and thinking back to the little girl and the painter. “See what? The little fae girl and her mother… She was painting I think,” his confusion muddled his mind enough that it didn’t catch up to what he was saying or who he was talking to. But Lydia’s own statement made him freeze for a moment, searching back because there were many graveyards but… “No... “ he said uncertainty lacing his tone, “what man? What graveyard?“

“What fae girl?” Lydia asked, standing upright sharply. What did he knew about fae? He was just some random art restorer. Except that he wasn’t in any sense of the word, if he knew what fae were. So now the question was how he knew and why. Nosy humans and monstrous hunters knew what fae were as much as every other species, but those were the ones that concerned her. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m misremembering. Do you think… Can you hear the insect? Do you think it bit you?”

The sudden change in demeanor was alarming but the more Arthur thought about the memory and looked at Lydia the pieces seemed to fit together. “I saw you I think…” there was still doubt in his voice but he could distinctly recognise certain symmetries between the girl in his memory and the woman before him even if other features didn’t match at all. But then again fae glamorous were powerful “and your mother? She was a painter too.” But if he’d seen that… Arthur’s frown deepened at her mention of being bitten, a hand going to rub at the nape of his neck in discomfort at the situation they’d been placed in. It was only then that he felt it, the little bump “oh that little bugger” he cursed his eyes widening in alarm at the dawning realisation. “What was he doing, the man in the graveyard?”

“There’s no way…” Lydia swallowed. Except that he was right. She didn’t remember much of her mother, or rather, she chose to forget as much as she could of the human woman who had withered throughout her teen years. She’d been a painter. Lydia still had some of her paintings, hidden in the deepest recesses of her home. “Whatever you think you saw, you’re… surely you’d have to be mistaken. How might you ever see such a thing?” Her stomach turned as she danced too close to a lie. She looked up to him, with deep concern. “Let me see,” Lydia said, stepping behind him hesitantly. “You have two bites. Another… there. The man in the graveyard, he was fighting. Ghouls, possibly?”

The denial earned a crease in Arthur’s brow, “but I remember it… Like it’s right there.” It was strange and perplexing to apparently have someone else’s thoughts at the very forefront of his mind. Like a strange intrusion of privacy that he had no right to view and yet they were stuck right there as if they were his very own. The song and dance Lydia - if she was this fae girl in his mind was understandable, but what was more concerning was what she might’ve seen. “Magic for one. Or a bloody magic bug.” He didn’t protest as she stepped around, pulling the collar of his shirt down and tilting his head forwards. His concern rose at the news he’d been bitten not once but twice, “what? Oh bloody hell…” He stepped away, scrubbing a hand through his hair eyes bewildered at the prospect of revelation by something so simple. What were the chances? They were both in it now. He grabbed a piece of paper and pencil starting to scribble a rough artistic impression of an axe with ornate filigree embedded on its metal turning he held it up. “Was he using an axe? Double headed? Like this?”

Magical insects. Lydia, in theory, knew that they existed, but she’d never been bitten by such disgusting creatures before. She shuddered, grossed out as he grabbed a piece of paper. Peaking over his shoulder, Lydia nodded, her mind going the same way Arthur’s was. She twisted her ring around her fingers as she watched him sketch the piece, cogs clicking into place. He knew something about whatever she had remembered, in the same way that she recognised his own vision’s description, if perhaps not in its entirety. Lydia had spent so much time with her mother when she’d been a child. “Indeed. I also felt an immense fire. Was he, perhaps, you?”

“Ugh,” he grimaced at the thought of being bitten by something foreign and unknown, in the name of Frigg, he hoped there were no magical diseases that could be contracted like that. That’d truly suck. His hand rubbed the little bump uncomfortable with the thought and the other thoughts that weren’t his own rolling around in his head. Perhaps it would have been smarter to play dumb, act like he knew nothing but there was a quiet kind of excitement that came with finding someone else… Someone unique. And her mention of burning well, Arthur huffed as he looked down at the sketch. The question was posed and Arthur lifted his head paper held gingerly as he tried to mentally compare the little girl he’d seen in a reflection to the woman standing before him now. “Perhaps, but I guess that answer would depend on whether you were the fae girl I saw.” Quid pro quo was a funny sort of deal after all. The fact she hadn’t bolted was a pretty telling sign in itself. “But... yes. I think you saw one of my memories… Just as I saw one of yours - you said you were bitten earlier didn’t you?”

“Which is an answer in itself, is it not?” Lydia smiled. “Fortunately for the both of us, neither of us appear to be human. Although I must admit I have no idea what you might even begin to be. You don’t think there are others, do you? I don’t know how to search my mind to find missing memories. Most are just remembered at the most inopportune times, when you smell something or hear something that reminds you of them.” Lydia sighed deeply, sitting down on a nearby work bench. “I hate this. I didn’t really mean to come here today to intrude on your past.”

“Well, sometimes there’s a joy in being mildly cryptic” Arthur smiled a little bashfully raising a hand to rub at a patch of skin just behind his ear in mildly erratic nervousness. “Apparently not… Which I suppose makes this uhhh- beneficial? I don’t make a habit of typically sharing that- well, my secret with strangers.” The claim to not know earned a quiet huff of laughter as the paper was set aside and he clasped his hands together bracing his elbows on his knees. “I’m… well, what some would call a phoenix. But I’ve been called a great many things over the centuries. Messiah, miracle worker, wiseman. It’s funny watching people trip over themselves trying to label what they don’t understand.” His smile turned into a mildly bemused expression as he thought on the question, “I don’t recall seeing any more… You said I had two bites? So it must have bitten both of us twice… And I guess taken and then transferred a memory with each subsequent bite.” His expression softened into something more amicable, “nor did I plan to intrude on yours. But I suppose we’re here…” His eyes glinted amicably as he processed the information, “but I guess we find solidarity in the strangest of places don’t we?”

“No, I don’t either,” Lydia replied, running her finger over the bite on her own neck. Imagine if he’d been a warden. Lydia pushed away the thought abruptly. That was more than enough considering of her death today. It was just a memory, not even the ones she valued so highly, of her terribly human mother. Who would have almost certainly died not long after he’d seen it. So why did her heart ache for the loss of it? Lost in her own thoughts, she almost missed his initial description of himself. Lydia raised her eyebrows very high as he described all the names he’d been given. “I imagine I’ll stick with phoenix, if it’s all the same to you,” Lydia chuckled. She kicked herself off the table, and back on to standing on her feet. “At least it is solidarity.” She smiled weakly. This memory wasn’t hers, and it felt like he’d been robbed of them. She might as well return them. “You were speaking in french. The moon was out, but it had rained recently, you could smell the wet dirt of the farmlands. There were monsters digging through graves. That you fought with that axe. One bit you…” Lydia pressed her hand to her shoulder, to show where he’d been hurt. “But you beat them. You were looking at a grave, and promised that you’d always keep them safe. It meant… The grave meant a lot to you.”

How many more memories would he lose? If not to magical creatures and parasites then simply to the ebb and flow of time. Had it not taken enough already? Arthur couldn’t even recall the face of his mother, or his sister or his brothers… Did he have one or two? There were only ghostly outlines of indistinct people with dark hair and kind eyes. Was that right or just his imagination? He’d never know. At least with more recent events he had a little longer with which to keep the memories. He listened to Lydia speak trying to place the thoughts of where they might fit. French was hardly distinct nor was the act. “I’ve protected too many graves…” a wan look crossed his features but the nearest he could place it was “maybe 12th century at a guess… Our gravesite was always being ravaged.“ Thinking of the memory he had Arthur folded his hands, pressing them together before he spoke in turn. “You were a teen standing near a windowsill with some bread… Your mother was painting… It was beautiful. But you were hungry… She said your father would help when he got home and then she hugged and kissed you. She didn’t look very well though…”

“Twelfth century? That’s… beyond belief. What a difficult memory to lose.” Lydia said softly, her eyes creased with empathy. That disappeared the moment he started describing what he had seen. It was as if a cloud had descended over her. “She would have died not long after that.” Lydia shook her head abruptly. She knew what he could not - that her mother’s hug had been what sustained Lydia. That just being around her had been enough for Lydia to unknowingly and unwittingly drain the life from her. No kiss required. Her father should have known better - her siblings had all taken years to control their hunger, and while growing up in an Aos Sí had protected her well, he should have never let her mother around her for so long. He should have never had children with a human to begin with. His love had killed her better than any knife. “There’s no need to dwell on such things. If you see the insect, let’s crush it before it takes any more.”

“I’d lose it eventually anyway,” Arthur admitted, his expression a little more misty than it perhaps was before. “There’s not much to be done for old age, hm?” A touch of humour in the face of a sad reality. “Oh… I’m sorry-- I didn’t realise...” it was his turn to look apologetic after all how could he, a glimpse of a moment of fractured time that didn’t belong to him, “I’m sure you miss her a great deal.” After all, what child didn’t miss their parents in some capacity? Not that he knew anything of Lydia’s life but the fragment seemed to show a good home with kind people. He grew quiet after that, clearing his throat a fraction “you’re right… It seemed to be coming from near the painting originally wasn’t it? Perhaps that’s where it was hiding.”

“All the same,” Lydia replied, looking into his wet eyes with concern. “I do not wish to discuss my mother, if I’m honest. It was a long time ago. She was not as good a mother as she could have been.” In that she wasn’t fae. In that she had never deserved to be a fae’s mother. Lydia’s heart felt tight all the same. She looked around, wondering if she might spot it wandering along on a surface. She picked up one of her big books, walking around with supernaturally silent steps. Lydia walked half way around the room before spotting it, a big bloated beetle resting against the table. Using her enhanced strength a little too keenly, Lydia smacked it with the book, and it squelched against the counter. “If nothing else, it’s dead.”

“Oh…” Arthur echoed unsure quite how to follow up a comment like that. So he chose to not say anything, sometimes it was better that way. Instead, he helped in scouring the room searching for any sight of the thing that might’ve been responsible. But ultimately, Lydia served the final blow, squishing the bug under a finer points to art book. “Well, at least it won’t be an issue for anyone else… I wonder how many other people it’s done this to.” It was a little disquieting but at least it was dealt with. “I suppose now that that little fiasco’s dealt with… Shall we get to work on this painting?”

“I hate insects ever so much. Which I realise is ironic considering my own beetle anatomy, but eurgh. Keep them away from me. At all costs.” Lydia shuddered at the corpse remains of the insect, squelched on her book. She looked up at Arthur with a smile. “Yes, let’s!” As she picked up her tools to start preparing to remove it from the frame, though, she couldn’t shake the memory of fire bursting from her body. Well, his. That quiet graveyard, and the ones he wanted to protect. He wasn’t fae, so… “Thank you for not pushing on the matter of my mother,” Lydia said softly, before turning all of her thought to their work, and enjoying the pleasant company of the ancient gentleman beside her.

Arthur couldn’t help but laugh quietly at the irony presented and while he could recall the reflection of what she had looked like, he couldn’t help but wonder what she actually looked like behind the glamour. His head tilted a little in acknowledgement, “you’re welcome. I understand some things aren’t the sort of things you want to talk about with strangers you’ve only just met.” He opened a small collection of tools attention focussed there for the time being. They’d need to file the gashes down and repaint from there and he had so many questions he wanted to ask. “I doubt you get much opportunity to not hide your true form do you?” Arthur remarked after a little while of working “I can only imagine it must be tiring… Hiding what you are day in and day out, it’s rather impressive. The capability of fae glamours… I’ve always wondered - does creating them get easier with time?”

Lydia nodded in response to his comment, and let sleeping lions lie. It twisted her stomach enough to just think about her mother, let alone have someone else know it. They worked in quiet for a moment before Arthur interrupted. “It is like maintaining good posture. After a while, it’s second nature to hold that tension in place. It requires thought, but I’ve worn this same face for decades. Same wrinkles around the eyes, pock marks, venation. It’s like putting make up on.” Lydia shrugged. “How does it feel to have lived so long?”

“Huh,” he mused thoughtfully, “it’s something I’ve always wondered… I’ve never really spent much time around many fae considering I know most of your kind prefer to stay in your own communities…” Arthur looked back to the painting considering the work “you think you’ve seen the breadth of what lies on the spectrum of the supernatural and yet there’s always so much you find out you don’t know.” He resumed working, hands moving in slow methodical strokes as he worked the groves down wondering how best to answer a rather loaded question. “Honestly it really depends on the day, some days it’s exhilarating - especially when there’s a new discovery or invention… Other days it feels like you’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders… It’s easier to begin with - when you don’t remember and life is just… life.”

“We often do, but not always,” Lydia agreed. “Then again, I hadn’t been too sure Phoenixes really existed until just now. Even for us, separating fact from fiction can prove challenging.” When he worked on the canvas, she didn’t, so that they weren’t applying tension unevenly, and didn’t want to knock each other. She focused on the solvents, the paints, setting things up for each next step. “That sounds like an intense existence. I am so old to so many here, but I am a child to my peers. My age compares nothing to yours, and yet it’s hard to imagine another three life times after this.”

“We’re a more inconspicuous type than most, I’ve never met another one of my kind in all the time I’ve been alive” Arthur admitted his brow creasing a little with the admission. How many were out there really? Who could say for sure. “It can be. Considering we have to restart our lives from scratch each time…” His smile grew a fraction, a knowing look passing his features “it takes time but you often end up coming to terms with it eventually… It’s different though - a sustained life and existence over that extended period you know? Fo rme it’s just like someone hitting reset every century.”

“That seems to me to be rather lonely,” Lydia said softly, listening to him curiously as he talked about his rebirth. She could not imagine. “There are many, many things one can get used to with enough experience, I suppose,” Lydia replied, trying to imagine it. Dying and restarting life afresh, over and over. She shed her name with frightening frequency, but she still remembered her past, and did not let go of those she loved. She wondered what Deirdre thought of it, people who died and lived over and over, with each new rotation of the clock. She had such interesting perspectives on death.

“It is, but you learn to move on, you have to or what’s it all for in the end? Plus I often meet people along the way that make it worthwhile. Like today I made an unexpectedly new friend.” Arthur smiled at her, eyes creasing kindly even if there was sadness with the admission. So many lives had flickered in and out of existence. So many friends gone and lost to the trial of time. But today he had made a friend, and in his mind that made today a good day.

She didn’t reply to that. Being Fae was fundamental to her identity, being part of the fae, that she couldn’t imagine being without them. People were fine, but fae were best. They deserved to be around each other. Lydia’s heart ached for people like Jared, and Regan, who had lived without other fae for so long and had ever so clearly suffered it. Lydia grinned back at him. “Boticelli and bugs sure have a way to bring people together, I must say.” She winked, and turned back to her work, cheerfully.

“Who knew?” and so the afternoon drifted on, light chat intermingling their progressive work in restoring the damage done to the painting. It would take around a week to complete but in good company Arthur was happy to take the time to do a job right, plus, if he’d made a new friend out of today’s shenanigans then there was nothing really to complain about. Maybe bugs weren’t so bad after all?

[darling-i-fancy-you]

A Brief Moment - Romione Fanfic

Author Note: Wow, I haven’t written Romione fanfiction for about 7 years. Since then I have finished High School, and College and graduated University. But for some reason I have just had the bug for some writing recently, I mean I haven’t written anything in almost a year or maybe even two so what better way that jump back in with some writing for my first ever ship! Not Beta Read or even really proof read as I’ve written this for myself more than anyone else - I don’t even think I have any or many Romione fans who read my blog!

Anyway a bit of a pre-fix for this fic, this is in the realm of ‘What If That Kiss Never Happened?’ And Hermione goes off to Hogwarts and the two idiots continue to pine for each other and it gets on Harry and Ginny’s nerves! 

Enjoy!

The train carriages pushed and pulled around the bends of the Northern landscape, a bushy haired, bright young woman wrought together her hands in nervous anticipation. She gnawed and nibbled on the soft skin of her bottom lip and the swell of the fear of not knowing lay heavily in her chest.

‘Hermione,’ an exasperated young ginger girl sighed, ‘he’s going to be there.’

Ginny placed her head against the cool window pane. Lambs, horses and calfs flew past her in fast blinks as the old steam train picked up speed through the vast green scenery. The two girls were halfway home and for good this time. Their time at Hogwarts had officially ended and this was their last train journey home from the magnificent Scottish castle, a place that they had called a home away from home for so many years. 

‘What?’ Hermione startled at Ginny’s words. 

‘Ron.’ She said, ‘Of course he’s going to be there.’

Hermione huffed in defiance.

‘Gin, I-’ she began, however what the intended end to the sentence was she wasn’t quite sure. 

‘He’ll be waiting for you.’ Ginny rolled her eyes. ‘Like he always is. Why can’t you two just figure it all out?’

Hermione cheeks flushed, she would love to pretend that she had no idea what Ginny was implying but she had to agree that it was getting quite ridiculous. All the pussyfooting around each other during the holidays, the coy looks and shy smiles, the gifts that were almost too meaningful - a personalised diary with her initials embossed in golden script and a Chudley Cannons poster, signed by the whole team, as a favour for the girl who helped to save the Wizarding World. 

‘It’s complicated.’ Hermione said quietly. 

Ginny’s laugh barked from her mouth.

‘Just grab the daft pillock by the scruff of his shirt and give him a good snog, Hermione. I don’t think it’ll be all that complicated after that.’

Hermione narrowed her eyes at the smiling ginger girl. Her face held a familiar mischievous look, like one she had seen on her brother many times before throughout the years. Hermione took in a sharp breath through her nose, rolled her shoulders and straightened her back. 

‘If anything were to happen Gin, then he would have to make the first move.’ She said with finality in her voice. ‘I can’t put myself out there with him again.’

She thought back to the Yule Ball and how she had secretly waited for as long as she could for him to show just a little bit of interest in her. When Victor approached her the week before the ball and asked her to accompany him she could hardly refuse, there was no sign that anyone else was willing to ask her anytime soon. She also thought back to Slughorn’s Party and what a disaster that had turned in to, she just couldn’t face that kind of heartache again.

The summer before Hermione and Ginny came back to Hogwarts, the summer immediately after the war, she had toyed with the idea of making her feelings known to Ron. However, grief took precedence over love and the more time she had to think, the more conclusions and scenarios she drew. 

Perhaps the feelings she had for Ron were simply heightened due to her own grief or the sense of relief she had from surviving the war, or perhaps she only felt this way due to the amount of time they spent together day in and day out. Would she still love him if they didn’t spend every day together like they had done for the past eight years?

The answer was yes. 

Perhaps she loved him even more so than when she left for Hogwarts. The constant ache in her chest every day that she was away from him, a pain that only subsided when in his presence confirmed this. If he was at the train station, waiting for her, surely that had to mean something didn’t it? She needed it to mean something but most of all she needed him to tell her that.

---

‘Mate, what do you think is gonna happen?’ Harry smirked. ‘The train just isn’t going to turn up?’

Ron rolled on the balls of his feet, his hands shoved deep down into his trouser pockets that hid his nails that had been bitten down in nervous worry. A deep flush ran down the back of his neck and behind his ears, he knew he was being ridiculous by straining his neck down the platform in search of a train that he knew was only due to appear in the next fifteen minutes. 

His emotions swirled together in the pit of his stomach, nervous, excited and shitting himself all at once. She was going to be back for good, he could see her everyday if he wanted to - well if she wanted to. 

Would she be happy to see him? 

Or confused? 

Would she even care?

‘Shut up.’ Ron muttered ‘Prat.’

Harry was loving this, he could tell. The smugness rolled from his smile as he watched his best friend shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other, his neck constantly snapping to the large black clock that counted down the minutes. 

He wasn’t arsed anymore, he knew it was obvious to everyone - the way he looked at her on Christmas morning as they opened presents or how he followed her from room to room at the Burrow for the entire week, just needing to soak up as much time as he could with her over the holidays. He was so hopelessly in love with her that it ached in his heart and consumed him daily. 

‘You going to say something to her?’ Harry asked, a sincerity in his voice.

For all of his teasing over the past few years, he honestly just wanted to knock their heads together and tell them to get a move on. 

‘I don’t know.’ Ron replied honestly. 

It wasn’t the first time Ron had admitted to Harry how he felt, that had come shortly after the girls had left for school, hours after they had waved them off on the old steam train for their final year. He had found Ron sitting at the dining table in Grimmauld Place, his chin resting on his knuckles and his expression blank. 

‘I love her.’ He said as though the realisation had only just dawned on him.

Harry had given him the same sad smile he was giving him now and asked the same question. 

The whistle of the train howled in the distance, Ron inhaled deeply.

---

The train came to a steady stop and at once the carriage aisles filled with the bustle of Hogwarts students of various years, ages and sizes. There was a flurry of voices and laughter, children saying goodbye to their school friends until September rolled around again, solemn Seventh Years bid farewell to the train itself that had taken them to and forth the castle wherein they had spent some of the best and worst times of the young life. 

Hermione and Ginny moved slowly, gathering their trunks from the racking above them for the last time. Each movement was meaningful as they took in their surroundings, feeling nostalgic for a life they had both lived. Hermione wouldn’t deny that she may have also been trying to delay the inevitable. 

He would either be there or he would not. She was finding it almost impossible to contain her emotions, preemptive tears glistened in her eyes as she reached for the sliding carriage door and made her way out into the busy aisle. 

---

It suddenly dawned on Ron how thankful he was for his height as he watched as Harry struggled to crane his neck over the swell of students that had swarmed onto the platform. Ron could easily see above their heads, what he couldn’t see however was the two heads he was looking for, the fiery long hair of sister and his favourite set of chocolate curls that undoubtedly belonged to Hermione Granger. 

‘Where is she, where is she?’ He muttered to himself. 

He started to push through the crowd, he glided easily as though he was wading through water. He wasn’t sure what he would do or say when he saw her, he just hoped that when he saw her he would know. 

‘Ron!’ Harry called from behind him, lost in the crowd of people that were eyeing him with awe and admiration. ‘They’re over there!’

Harry was pointing to the far end of the train, he saw his sister first who was eagerly scanning the crowd in search of The Boy Who Lived. Then there she was, her head bent down slightly and focused more on navigating her trunk down to the train platform. It was only when Ginny grabbed at her arm and pointed in his direction that she looked up.

---

‘There!’ Ginny smiled and darted off into the crowd, abandoning her trunk in favour of reaching her boyfriend.

Looking up Hermione’s watering eyes met with that of smiling - no beaming, Ronald Weasley. She matched his smile and let out a gasp of a laugh. What had she been so worried about, of course he was going to be here, he always would be. 

Hermione joined Ginny in abandoning her trunk and started to make way through the crowd.

---

Ron picked up his pace as he noticed Hermione had started to move in his direction, he pushed aside what had been this year's First Years and ignored the whispers of recognition for who he was. He didn’t care, he couldn’t care. All that mattered right now was that Hermione was making her way to him and he was mad with happiness. 

Once within a couple of feet of each other they stopped, hesitantly.

‘Hi.’ Hermione sighed with relief.

‘Hi.’ Ron echoed.

They both stared at each other, beaming smiles subsiding to something gentler, a look of hope and longing laced with uncertainty and fear of all the things they had never said to each other. 

Hermione opened her mouth, wanting to say something but the words wouldn’t come. Ron’s words however, did.

‘I’ve missed you.’ He confessed. ‘More than what’s probably normal to miss someone who-’ 

‘Isn’t your girlfriend.’ Is what he wanted to say but the words fell short and he fell silent. 

‘I’ve missed you too.’ Hermione whispered. ‘A lot.’

The tears that had been gathering in Hermione’s eyes were now dangerously threatening to spill down her cheeks, she was relieved of course that he was here but for some reason the ache in her stomach had only gotten worse. 

At the tears in her eyes a concerned Ron pulled her at her arm and tucked her into a hug.

‘C’mere,’ he whispered into her hair with a slight laugh, ‘you alright? I wasn’t that bad of a surprise to see was I?’ He joked.

Hermione shook her head and buried deeper into his chest, the tears were starting to spill now and she didn’t want anybody seeing her cry on Platform 9 ¾.

‘No,’ came a muffled reply, ‘you were a brilliant surprise.’

She sniffled and pulled her head away from him, quickly pulling up her hands to wipe away the stray tears. Her cheeks were flushed red from the embarrassment of crying in public and the mixture of emotions that swelled through her body.

Ron looked down at her, from this close he could count the freckles that sat on her nose. Her doe like eyes glanced back up at him, the gentle gaze in them sent a hot flush down his neck that he was sure she would be able to see. His tongue swept over his own lips before her name fell from them.

‘’Mione.’ His throat was hoarse all of sudden like everything deep down inside of him had bubbled up and left a knot right in his throat. 

The breath from him saying her name danced over the apples of her cheeks, his face was serious now. An expression she had never really seen on his face before, and it was a face that she had studied relentlessly throughout school, even more so than she had Hogwarts: A History. 

His adam’s apple bobbed tellingly in his throat. 

Word’s just wouldn’t do now, how could eight years of growing friendship and love and sometimes heartache be summed up with any combination of words. 

Ron’s head dipped, slowly and cautiously, as Hermione’s head tilted upwards with that same timid speed. 

And for a moment there was no crowd bustling past them, and there was no steam train whistling or groaning, in fact Platform 9 ¾ ceased to exist altogether for one brief shining moment as their lips touched for the very first time.

[thefreelanceangel]

Tagged: OOC Shenanigans

Driven 100 MPH - Yes, and we're not telling my mother that.

Ridden in a helicopter - No. >< Which sucks because I want to. I especially want that action movie moment while I (securely strapped in) lean out the open side door and get to see the ground.

Gone zip lining - No. *sulk* And after watching "Medicine Man" as a youngling, I really wanted to.

Been to an NFL game - No. The only "professional" sports I've ever seen were the Diablos baseball games my parents occasionally took me to.

Been to Canada - Tooooooooooo far north for me to reach.

Visited Florida - While the crocs are VERY enticing, that's ... really about it.

Visited Mexico - Repeatedly! I mean... I grew up on the border, so...

Visited Las Vegas - Once! A whirlwind 24 hour trip to see the Scorpions in concert. {WORTH IT.}

Eaten alone at a restaurant - Yes because I have no problem at all doing things by myself. Also lazing on an outdoor patio with a cappuccino and delectable pastry while reading a book uninterrupted is fabulous.

Ability to read music - Not even a little. The little symbols are pretty though!

Ridden a motorcycle - Many a times because my father bought a Harley Softtail (in Aztec Bronze, and yes, that was a continual running joke in my family). I also got my BFF to take her first (brief) motorcycle ride from a random friendly stranger on our college campus when my car ran out of gas and we were pushing it to the nearest gas station.

Ridden a horse - Also many a times! Friends of my family had horses and for a few years, I was on a horse every weekend. I also took English riding classes in college.

Stayed in a hospital - Once for an appendectomy (involuntary) and once when my high school friend had ovarian cyst issues, so I stayed with her so she wouldn't feel alone/scared.

Donated blood - I should, but I don't even know my blood type and you get a needle near me, we're gonna fite.

Been snow skiing - I am neither graceful nor athletic and dislike the cold, so I've not availed myself of the slopes here in New Mexico. (Yes, we have ski slopes in New Mexico.)

Been to Disney World - Nope!

Been to Disney Land - Nope! But my BROTHER has gone, my PARENTS have gone and even cheekily sent me photos of my mother hugging Donald Duck before I've ever had the chance. So I may very well never go just to use that as something to whine about to my mom. (We're an odd family.)

Slept outside - Many, many "camping trips" (snakehunting trips) were taken when I was a wee lass, so yup! Even if I usually ended up being told to get into the pickup truck's cab because no one wanted to hear me complain about being too cold or bitten by bugs.

Driven a stick shift - For years and lemme tell you, a 2 hour lesson in a parking lot does not prepare you for handling a standard shift Neon in college peak hour traffic on hills.

Ridden in an 18 wheeler - Yup! Friends of the family had a couple used for their home business and we often rode along on brief trips to nearby cities.

Ridden in a police car - Not for lack of trying.

Driven a boat - No. Nope. Will not. Will nOT. Fuck you and your watery ways.

Eaten escargot - Yes and they tasted like garlicky mushrooms. Quite tasty!

Been on a cruise - See above with "fuck you and your watery ways." I will NOT go into or on the ocean.

Run out of gas - See way above re. "ridden a motorcycle."

Been on TV - You can't prove anything.

Eaten sushi - Many, many times. A couple of restaurants in the city near where I grew up/went to college knew me and my friends by name for that reason.

Seen a UFO - Not for lack of trying. I WAS an X-Philer as a youngling.

Been bungie jumping - NOT YET.

Been stuck in the house for days - My parents worked year-round and I had summer vacation off from school while living in a rural area. Needless to say, I got into a lot of mishaps.

Tagged by: @lareine-kira; @luck-and-larceny; @va1kyn (Thanks y'all! FINALLY got to it!)

Tagging: (Who hasn’t done this yet...?) @kich-rp; @sola-ffxiv; @scarssdoesrp; @mirugaidoesthings; @janderius-ffxiv; anyone else...? I think I’ve seen this round about several times.

[szopenhauer]

Have you ever kissed the last person you texted? yes

Are you in a good mood right now? r u serious?...

Is there anyone who you think you deserve an apology from? I won’t get any

Are you talking to anyone right now? my gf online and my mom irl

Did you buy anything today? I didn’t

Were you happy when you woke up this morning? I wasn’t

When was the last time you cried really hard? today, it wasn’t the hardest tho

When did you last hug someone? Who was it? this day as well, parent

How’s life going for you? no comment

Has something someone said today annoyed you? that’s normal Can you hear the crickets chirping at night? sadly not Do you like listening to new music, or just sticking to your favorites? depends on the new song - if it’s good then I like it as much as my old favs

When was the last time you were bitten by a bug? this summer has the worst mosquitos ever Do you have a pair of sunglasses that are worth over $200? I'm not rich, mine aren’t more expensive than 25 PLN  Are you brave when it comes to trying new foods? ...  When was the last time you saw your significant other? weeks ago, not counting video chatting Are you ashamed of your singing voice? I’m aware I have no talent so... Have you ever had a dream where you could understand a foreign language? also animal languages and been talking to plants etc. Do you have anything important to do tomorrow? hospital Are you a fan of retro things? prefer vintage, antiques, shabby - retro is fake but at times there are some good enough pieces as well  Would you be considered to be knowledgeable about World War 2? I mistake WWI for WWII and vice versa If you’re with someone right now, do you think it will last? don’t feed my paranoia Have you heard of the Irish actor Jonathan Rhys Meyers? oooh that’s the one Do you have something to do, that you would rather not do? tomorrow Are you, in any way, feeling hopeless right now? absolutely Do you know who you’re planning to ask to your prom? I wanted to ask my current gf back in the day but my mom didn’t let me and I didn’t go because only me and K. didn’t have a date so we preffered to stay home When was the last time you went shopping? yesterday What’s the limit on how much you would pay for a shirt? 60 PLN but I cry when I pay 30 PLN, luckily I have like 3 shirts that are about 30 PLN Do you like making funny faces in pictures? better to be funny than ugly, right? Is there something you look back on and go “I can’t believe I did that”? regrets Are you good at offering advice? but not following them  What was the last thing to confuse you? confused is my second name  Are you a fan of Keira Knightley? she’s not that good Have you ever resorted to alcohol to make you feel better? it doesn’t make anything better Have you heard about Mel Gibson’s rant/freakout? he was such a good actor, such a shame he’s not a good person  Do you wish your bedroom was bigger? I wish I had my own apartment Have you ever felt like a “new person”? I had my moments that were ruined right after  Do you own any expensive jewelry? I sold the only necklace that was worth something  Has there been someone in your life that just wouldn’t leave you alone? stalkers Do you hate to use public bathrooms? there are way worse things than public bathrooms, even when they’re covered in blood, poop, pee and vomit (but puke is least bearable from all four)

Are there any writing utensils close to you? I packed bunch of them 

What was the last thing that shocked you? brain, remind me what was last... How many other rooms can you currently see into? hall Do you need to take the trash out? done Do you need to clean your room right now? soon Do you need to clean out a litter box right now? my cat’s gone Are these questions reminding you of things you put off to do this survey? there’s washing my head on my list for this evening - nothing more  How many days have you been wearing those clothes? gimme a break!

Can you move your nose? yasss

Have you ever done a craft that you found on Pinterest? sew teddy and a cat from socks for example but I’m not fond of DIY in general Are you content with mystery, or do you wish you knew everything? knowledge is power

What’s one thing that makes your stomach hurt? what doesn’t?... Ever had a living nightmare? my life is a nightmare

Do you think successful people always come with a pack of haters? successful or not - haters are everywhere Do you wish you could be a world traveler? travelling ain’t my hobby Do you wish you could live in another city for a year? Ełk If you had kids, would you take them to Disney World? if I had money and they wanted to go and it wasn’t that far away from home and they were angels and they were old enough... Have you ever stood in line to get a Disney character’s autograph? wouldn’t bother, pics are better How long does it usually take your hair to dry?  so short yet dry slowly Is your Pinterest page cluttered? it’s neat Did you used to name your Barbies? of course Is your life boring? ppl say it is but for me it’s not enough boring if you know what I mean Do you usually feel better around people or alone? alone Is there a broken relationship in your life that you want to fix? tried to fix friendships but it didn’t work out  Do you ever think about Heaven? yup Are you ready for Heaven yet? I will go to hell but I don’t mind dying now if it’s a quick death as I prefer to be gone that an ill burden to myself and others Are you afraid of where you’re going to go? I don’t deserve heaven, I think it would be unfair for me to go wherever, I have love-hate relationship with God Do you feel better now than you did last night? noooo Does your body have any problems with it? my body is 99,99% a problem, it’s made of problems like jigsaw puzzle game Have you taken any huge risks lately? my life is 24/7 at risk - does that count?... Silence or songs? depends  Do you ignore rude people or do you call them out? try to ignore them if possible What color socks do you have on? purple stripes, looks a bit like asexual flag - this realization :o Are you under a blanket right now? am not

How much was your prom dress? What’s the most you’d spend?: I wouldn’t buy anything expensive, dress from a second hand under 30 PLN Are most of your friends single or taken?: my friends were basically always single When you’re taking a survey that has a “Which of your friends is… the nicest? The prettiest? The smartest? Etc.” do you skip over it?: as I have no friends anymore to be honest What salon do you go to for getting your hair done?: I cut them on my own or ask mom for help Do you believe in luck?: I’m unlucky Would you marry someone of a different religion?: that would be hard  Would you convert for them?: nope Worst part about your job?: I don’t have a job and the worst part about it is lack of money and regular UP visits Ever took something out of the lost and found that wasn’t yours?: they tempt me I took some lost/trashed stuff from the street tho Do you delete friends from Facebook if they never talk to you?: that’s me! Do you know anyone who smokes cigars?: my uncle did Ugliest fashion trend at the moment?: according to this - shorts suit, cut outs, sheer/transparent, raffia not a fan of most of vests blue isn’t my fav color but it’s a seasonal thing but shirts shouldn’t be such a huge part of summer in my opinion Do you like glittery nail polishes?: why not

Are you wearing a pink shirt? it’s white with black letters

If you had a baby, would you want to have it at home or in a hospital? hospital I believe

Have you ever had a bad experience with anti-depressants? If so, what? don’t even let me begin this subject...

What makes your room unique? trinkets

Does your past bother you? consequences of it

Do you take risks or play it safe? play it safe and yet...

Are you afraid of running into a certain person in public? more than one person, more than one reason

Do you live in the USA? Poland

Who do you want to meet in Heaven? from those who already died? my brother

Is it raining? slightly

Is your life stressful and exhausting? to me it is too stressful and exhausting 

What is your favorite time of the day? when I sleep, if I sleep that is 

Have you ever known anyone that’s gone missing? nope Do you put your foundation on with a sponge or your hand? I don’t use foundation, yuk Do you have to pee often? ppl told me that I pee often Do you live near a pet store? they closed pet store in my town

Who was the last person other than family to tell you that they love you? my gf How many people have you kissed in the last month? 1 Do you know anyone who writes really well? my gf writes well Does it bug you when people spell color “colour”? not spell but write, it sounds good in British accent but looks horrible on paper

What is the best fanfic you have ever read (lmao) only fanfic I remember reading was that one E.W. and K.K. sent me about Draco and Harry (yaoi)

If you could direct your own TV show/movie, what would it be like? it would be based on my book

One thing you’ve always wished you could do / be good at? be healthy

Post a picture of the weirdest/funniest text conversation you’ve ever had! can’t choose only one, also, sadly,  I don’t have screenies of some of them 

Is there a stranger you would like to meet again? for example - I’d like to see all those ppl that I thought have amazing fashion sense and ask them if I can take photos then I would make a blog about it

Does your school take sports too seriously? all schools do, that’s unfair What does the sound you currently hear remind you of? it’s quiet

Did you eat out anywhere today? nah Where is your purse? my purses are in various places around my room

[thecomicsnexus]

Men of Shadow

TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES #29 MARCH 1990 BY A. C. FARLEY

SYNOPSIS (FROM TURTLEPEDIA)

In this issue's prologue, we see a man seated in what appears to be a space craft, musing about his desire to be a hero... as his computer accesses files regarding the Necronomicon.

Meanwhile, the TMNT are apparently skirmishing with a gigantic turtle robot in the woods of Northampton as Master Splinter looks on. Suddenly the bot ceases its operations and comes crashing to the ground. The Turtles scramble to open the machine up, and Donatello pops out, explaining how he accidentally overloaded the onboard computer and with a few tweaks he'll have it ready to roll again.

In Arkham, Massachusetts we're introduced to two boys, named Max and Pervis. Max has just purchased an expensive back issue of a comic book and Pervis is warning him about his parents' reaction... which is sure to be very negative. Max explains that he's already in trouble and headed for summer school because he flunked math. The bad news only gets worse as the two lads are assailed by a group of bullies, led by a big fat kid named Barry. Barry grabs Max in a head lock and then tears up his comic before walking off, warning the comic fans that he'll be back later.

Cut to scene at the University of Massachusetts, where we learn that a group of armed men have taken control of the UMass library annex, called the Whately House. Swarms of police surround the building and the situation is dire and tense. Apparently the house had just been moved to the Amherst site from its original location of Arkham. Almost everyone managed to escape the criminals thanks to two heroic people inside, but those people are now being held captive... the heroic duo being April and Casey! The gunmen have sworn to destroy the museum and kill all inside rather than surrender.

In the Whatley House, April and Casey are tied up and are being held at gunpoint by three pointy eared men who are accompanied by a small horde of what appear to be zombies... zombies that have telltale bite marks on their necks, as if they'd been bitten by vampires. The three malefactors vow to blow up the museum rather than let the humans find physical evidence of their existence. The leader hands a detonator device to a zombie and tells him to hold the button down - if commanded, the underling is to release the button, which will detonate a huge stockpile of TNT and decimate the structure, including all inside.

As April and Casey discuss their predicament, the leader of the criminals, Mallet, snarls at them (revealing vampire teeth) and tells them that they're waiting for their Master Traquer to arrive. Mallet then radios a henchmen who is outside in a truck, surrounded by numerous police vehicles, and alerts him to the plan. Apparently the "brainless ones" will be used as a diversion that will allow the vampires to escape with some sort of mystic artifact that they've come here to retrieve.

Just then we see the TMNT crawling through an attic window located at the rear of the house. The Turtles walk downstairs and tell Mallet that they've only come for Casey and April, and if they're allowed to leave, there will be no trouble. This amuses Mallet and he tells the Turtles that they will die with their friends. Suddenly, the man from the prologue appears out of thin air and grabs Mallet. The Turtles leap into action. The mystery man informs our heroes that to rid themselves of their undead foes, they must pierce their hearts with wood or separate their head from their body. The Turtles are a bit freaked about the news that they're fighting zombies and vampires, but they waste no time in breaking up the furniture to make crude stakes. The zombies are dispatched easily, but the vampires turn into bats and fly out of a window. The mystery man has subdued the "neo-dead" slave holding the detonator, and he leaps from the window with the zombie and bomb in tow. As the man and monster fall, the dynamite explodes.

The vampire in the truck below takes this as a sign to flee, and so puts the peddle to the metal, scattering the police as he tears away. The TMNT spot him and Don throws a special tracking shuriken that imbeds itself into the back door of the vehicle, so the Turtles will be able to locate the vehicle later. The guys then untie Casey and April and everyone escapes while the police are distracted by the fleeing truck.

Meanwhile, Max and Pervis are out in a field. Max is standing with his arms spread wide, explaining to Pervis that his home is light years away, that he's a prince brought to Earth to escape assassination threats. As Max tells his tale (which Pervis isn't buying for a minute), he screams for his "family" to pick him up and return him to his home planet... and just then something crashes into the ground a few meters away!

Max rushes to investigate, and the mystery man crawls from the wreckage, a real mess his own self. Pervis takes off to get help for the injured fellow while Max helps him to a hidden underground chamber filled with incredibly advanced technological devices (and strange beasties, creatures with one giant eye and bat wings). The man climbs into a pod, telling the lad to stay put and not to touch anything.

As soon as the man is sealed in his pod, Max ignores the instructions and accesses the main computer. He finds the log files and we learn that the man is named Clark Ashton Allard, and he's being spied upon by the strange bug-eyed creatures that are locked up in the cages. Apparently the beasts are being sent by Master Traquer in effort to keep Allard out of Tracquer's affairs - which involve something in the Whatley House. Clark notes that the house should never have been removed from its original site, as it was protected by many powerful spells that were broken once it was moved... protective spells that kept the artifacts within the building safe from harming humanity. The Whatley family had safeguarded these artifiacts for generations, and Tracquer had spent that time deciphering what they were and how to utilize them. Allard writes that he has no idea what the vampire is up to, but he's sure it means great suffering for the world... so Clark vows to stop Tracquer and continue to fight for good, as he's done for aeons.

Meanwhile, the Turtles, Casey and Splinter have tracked the vampire truck to Arkham, Massachusetts, but right outside of city limits their jeep has broken down. Fortunately they've brought the giant Turtlebot with them, so everyone climbs on board and Don pilots the mechanical terrapin.

Back in Allard's secret underground chamber, Max is rudely interrupted from his reading as Master Traquer and three of his vampiric underlings arrive. Unfortunately Clark is still in his healing mechanism, so the monsters grab the boy and smash the glass on the pod to unceremoniously remove Allard, who is out cold.

Pervis hears noise back where he'd left his friends and returns to investigate. The boy sees Traquer dragging Max out of the chamber by his neck. Pervis tries to ride off to seek help, but he hits a rock and breaks the front wheel on his bicycle. As he laments his situation, he sees a loud and looming form emerging from the darkness... it's the Turtlebot!

"Hey, kid," Casey calls out, "We're kinda lost! Can ya give us some directions?!"

Innsmouth, Massachusetts - The vampires are in a hideout on the wharf, inside Allard and Max are tied. Fortunately, Clark has almost healed fully at this point. Traquer announces that they are going to summon a hideous monster called Dagon to destroy mankind. As the convocation begins, the TMNT crash through a wall and a huge battle ensues. Unfortunately, the ceremony was completed and Dagon arrives - a huge tentacled beast that immediately begins grabbing vampires and eating them. Don's robot is captured in tentacles but he blasts out of the machine before its swallowed. Casey is fighting Traquer but not doing very well... as the vampire master prepares to dine on Jones' neck, Max stabs the monster in the back with one of Casey's broken baseball bats and kills it.

Meanwhile, Allard is struggling with an artifact in the attempt to close the gateway that has allowed Dagon to enter our dimension. As he makes adjustments to the device, the beast grabs him. Clark tosses the artifact into the gaping maw, hoping to close the gateway from the other side. Suddenly a huge explosion rocks the building to its foundation and our heroes run for cover as the structure collapses. Once the dust has settled, Splinter sends his students to find Allard and the artifact, but there's no sign of either.

The next day we see Max and Pervis walking down the street. Once again Barry and his cronies show up. Barry states that they've got unfinished business from yesterday. Pervis tells Max to apologize, but Max refuses.

"No way!" Max shouts in defiance, "After last night, these guys are nothin'!"

So Barry punches Max in the eye, knocking him to the ground and giving him quite a shiner.

"Some thanks for saving the world!" Max bemoans.

Meanwhile, we see Casey phoning April and telling her that they'll be home as soon as they fix the truck.

Finally, we see Clark Ashton Allard in his healing pod.

REVIEW

I appreciate A. C. Farley’s intentions, and I did get his Lovecraft references... but... I cannot say it worked for me. There is just too much going on. Robots, vampires, extra-dimensional entities, an android... I know this is TMNT and anything can happen, but I don’t feel like any of these things worked in the end.

The art is also a bit weird, the Turtles look a bit like the Jim Henson version of them, but a little bit more lifeless (then in the other hand, they do look like Turtles).

I give this story a score of 5.

[nadiafm]

                               𝓷𝓪𝓭𝓲𝓪 𝓹𝓪𝓵𝓸𝓶𝓪 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓮𝔃 

intermediate  family

nadia’s family has grown in the past few years , but she only considers her mother and sister to be her true family .

father : SANTIAGO  is a fifty year old contractor in san diego , california . he left paloma , nadia , and catalina nine years ago after fleeing the failing marriage , and did not put forth much effort in maintaining a relationship with his kids .

mother : PALOMA  is a forty - nine year old middle school school teacher in aventura , florida . she tends to drink a little bit too much wine , takes anti-anxiety medication every morning and night , and has given up on love totally & completely . except for the men she occasionally brings home , but cat and nadia don’t really talk about that . 

little sister : CATALINA “ CAT ”  is fourteen and a freshman in high school in aventura , florida . cat has always felt like she was in nadia’s shadow , like both their parents favored nadia over her , and while nadia was bitten by the love bug , cat takes after her mother in that she has no interest in falling in love with anybody , lest she end up like her mother . she was never as close to her father , and though she does suffer from some major abandonment issues , she doesn’t necessarily miss him . 

“ step mother ” : DANIELLE , whom nadia has only met once , is a thirty-seven year old stay - at - home - mom in san diego , california . she does not approve of nadia at all , and is part of the reason that a wedge was driven between nadia & her father the only summer that nadia went to visit ( unbeknownst to nadia ) .

half brother : HUNTER is a seven - year - old twin who is equally parts devil and demon . his parents have signed him up for every sport in the book in hopes he releases his energy & aggressions in practice instead of on his sister . nadia hasn’t seen him since he was an infant .

half sister : ESTEFANIA “ ESTEF ” is a seven - year - old twin who wears pink frilly dresses and loves horses . only listens to taylor swift and will throw a tantrum if anyone plays anything else in her presence . nadia hasn’t seen her since she was an infant .

half sister : CELENE  is a four - year - old that nadia has never met , nor has any interest in doing so .

hometown  & family  home

in comparison to a lot of her classmates, nadia is not rich . but that isn’t to say her family is poor by any means . they live in an upper class community and have a house by the beach — her father was a contractor , and developed a lot of homes in miami while he still lived in florida . her mother , a middle school teacher , made a decent living . so it’s not as though nadia had a deprived , poor childhood , she just didn’t necessarily own a closet full of designer clothes and the newest iphone in her pocket . 

aventura is famous for their shopping mall , which is the third largest in the us . it was the place to hang out in high school , and nadia spent a lot of her time there growing up . it is also home to turnberry isle miami , which is a well known resort in the area . many of nadia’s teenage memories involve sneaking into the resort and finding their way into guest - only amenities like the pool and spa . 

nadia has lived in the same house her entire life . a cozy , two bedroom , one story home in the suburbs of aventure , florida , about a twenty minute drive from miami without traffic . the home was the first house her parents bought together , back when they were still in love . still , the home holds a lot of sentimental value for nadia , and she loves it with her whole heart . she always looks forward to going home . 

car

nadia got her learner’s permit as soon as she turned fifteen , and her license on her sixteenth birthday . still , that just meant driving her mom’s car when her mom wasn’t using it . 

on her eighteenth birthday , during the summer after her senior year of high school , she was given her very first car as a birthday gift ( the car she and her then - boyfriend ethan would use to drive to hollingsworth together ) . a used , 2013 2 door jeep wrangler sport , her pride and joy . she named her danger , and drives it to hollingsworth every fall , driving it back home to miami every summer . the car has its roof and doors off all summer long .

room ( society  house  )  

nadia lives in the zeta house , and admittedly her room can get pretty messy . still , it’s one of her favorite spots to spend down time . her walls are decorated with pictures of her favorite memories ( she’s been carrying around disposable cameras the past two years , which has accrued quite a few photos for the wall ) , her bed is stacked high with throw pillows , and her desk is covered in papers and pens and post it-s . 

favorite  spot  on  campus  

nadia’s favorite spot on campus is the quad , because she loves to people watch . every student walks through at some point in the day , heading to class or heading home , and she could sit up against a tree with her airpods in watching people walk by for hours .  

pet

when nadia was seven , her birthday gift was a large box with holes in it . she thought it was a pony . but when she ripped back the wrapping paper , it was the most beautiful , fluffy little long haired german shepherd . she named her honey . honey was hers , not the family dog , hers . she slept in nadia’s room , snuggled up in bed with her every night . when her parents would yell at her , honey would bark her head off until they stopped . 

when honey was twelve , she started showing signs of old age . she died the following year . nadia was nineteen at the time , a sophomore at hollingsworth , and she was distraught for days . she even went home for the weekend and laid cuddled up in bed crying . that week , she went and got a tattoo of her face , in THIS sort of fashion . 

most  valued  possession

nadia’s most valued possesssion is the lionel messi jersey her father gave her when she was twelve . it was the last gift he gave her before leaving , and seeing as nadia is a loud and proud argentine , she loves it dearly . it doesn’t fit well anymore , unless she wears is as a sort of tight crop top , and she has plenty of other argentina soccer jerseys to wear on game day , but that specific one will always be the most important to her . 

best  friends

growing up , nadia’s number one best friend was josie . they were , and still are , two peas in a pod . they met in seventh grade when they were both crushing on the same boy , and through that , a friendship formed . josie decided to go to school in california , where she’d always dreamed of going , and where nadia had once dreamed of with her . she was the only one who had advised nadia not to follow ethan to hollingsworth , but of course she didn’t listen , and might regret not going to ucla with josie , but mostly she’s happy she picked hollingsworth . after all , it just means she gets to visit ucla sometimes . 

at hollingsworth , nadia considers dash & lux her best friends , the one she can count on to be there , and not judge her . ever . which means a lot ! considering she does a lot of things worth judging . 

first  love

like actually in love with or ? fksjghsjhg

ok a little bit nsfw , also trigger warnings : underage sex , slut shaming 

the first time nadia felt what she thought was love was freshman year of high school . mother fucking connor perch . he was actually really sweet to her at first , they met after being assigned desks next to each other in freshman year biology , though neither of the were very interested in the subject . ANYWAY , connor was on the basketball team , and you know nadia is a sucker for student athletes , so she had a crush right away , and by october of their freshman year they were dating . they were only fourteen , so to be fair they didn’t do much . it was mostly holding hands and chaste kisses in the hallway and sitting on his lap at lunch and things like that ! but mans was trying to lose his virginity . ( nadia’s first time had been in a car with a boy she barely knew that summer before high school , but he didn’t know that , and of course she didn’t tell him ) . 

anyway , she was madly in love with him , or so she thought at fourteen . she was like ... this is going to last forever ! and he knew about her dad and all , was always very sympathetic , always doing things like leaving flowers in her locker and love notes in her pockets . he was really sweet ok ! can ya blame a hopeless romantic for falling in love ! 

it was june , just a few days after school let out for summer , when nadia agreed to give him a blowjob . in the middle of it , when she looked up , he had his phone out and was recording . and nadia being nadia , she didn’t stop . she literally finished giving him a blowjob and it was only after , when they were sitting in her bed , that she gently asked him why he recorded that , and if he’d delete it . he said it was for himself , for him to look back on when he was at home alone . but it was only about a week later that nadia started getting texts from other boys at her school , asking things like how much she charged and if there was a summer vacation discount . and girls were posting things on formspring ( remember formspring ? lmao . ) calling her a slut and an attention seeker and god knows what else , and when she confronted connor about it he broke up with her , saying she was needy and clingy and if she didn’t want to be labeled as a slut why did she go down on people ! safe to say that was her least favorite summer ever . maybe second now , to the summer after she and rowan broke up . 

favorite  outfit

nadia’s go to outfit is a mini dress with sneakers . it’s literally all she wears !! spring ? autumn ? toss on a cardigan on top . winter ? add her favorite furry jacket . but she always out here showing off her legs , her tits , her ass . like her mama always said , if you got it , flaunt it , baby !! we love you mama paloma 

[citizenscreen]

Out of the blue I watched a new-to-me movie the other day about a retired Army Colonel who takes on corrupt politicians in his hometown in Georgia. The movie’s title is Colonel Effingham’s Raid, a 1946 comedy directed by Irving Pichel starring Charles Coburn as the title character. Colonel Effingham’s Raid has a lot going for it with charm high on its list of attributes thanks in large part to Coburn, the Georgia native with a talent for comedy and an English accent. It was then that I decided to dedicate an entry to him because I enjoy him so…and…lo and behold, this week would have been his birthday.

Charles Coburn (June 19, 1877 – August 30, 1961)

We have an embarrassment of riches in the character actor department of classic films. There are numerous memorable actors who deserve praise for bettering films simply by their appearance no matter how small a role. One of those is Charles Coburn who enjoyed a popularity many of the other character players did not. Indeed, thanks to Coburn’s 3-decades-long screen career during which he appeared in nearly 100 movies and television shows, his name recognition rivaled that of the stars whose names appeared above the title. Coburn was also highly regarded critically receiving three Academy Award nominations for Best Supporting Actor, taking home Oscar once for his delightful portrayal of Benjamin Dingle in George Stevens‘ wartime comedy, The More the Merrier (1943). More important than awards, however, was Charles Coburn’s undeniable ability to delight greatly with his talent.

Charles Douville Coburn was born in Macon, Georgia on June 19, 1877 and grew up in beautiful Savannah. He was the son of Scotch-Irish Americans Emma Louise Sprigman and Moses Douville Coburn who were not entertainers, but that didn’t stop young Charles from taking odd jobs at the local Savannah Theater starting at the age of 14. He was bitten by the entertainment industry bug early and did everything from handing out programs to being the doorman to theater manager by the age of 18. Failing to make his mark in Georgia, Charles left for New York at age 19. Although Mr. Coburn didn’t hit the big time immediately, his Broadway debut in 1901 was an inevitability as was his forming The Coburn Shakespearean Players in 1905. His partner in that endeavor was another actor, Ivah Wills, who became Mrs. Coburn in 1906. The two had six children together.

In addition to managing the Coburn Players, Charles and Ivah starred in and produced many plays throughout the decades during which the troupe traveled to college campuses across the country and appeared on Broadway. The couple met when he was playing Orlando to her Rosalind in As You Like It. They continued to work together until her death in 1937 performing Shakespeare and French and Greek dramas and comedies. In her book, Greek Tragedy on the American Stage: Ancient Drama in the Commercial Theater …, Karelisa Hartigan mentions how the Coburn Players would give over 100 performances every summer mostly outdoors. The popularity of their performances created an interest in outdoor theaters with other companies following their lead. Charles Coburn played most of the male leading parts with Ivah, billed as Mrs. Coburn, playing the female leads. The productions were often called “amateurish” by critics, but the performances were always praised. These scholarly productions likely led to Charles’ English accent despite being a Southern gentleman.

I’d be remiss not to mention that although few know her name, Ivah Wills had a long list of credits in her own right both as an actor and producer in a career that spanned 35 years. Ivah garnered positive reviews along with her husband and both were highly regarded members of the acting community. To put it in perspective, consider that George M. Cohan was among the honorary pallbearers at Ivah’s funeral.

Cobrun and Wills in The Taming of the Shrew

Ivah and Charles

After Ivah Wills’ death, Charles Coburn moved to Hollywood to start a movie career. He’d already appeared in a 1933 short film and in The People’s Enemy, a crime drama directed by Crane Wilbur. However, the roles that would cement his legacy as a screen star began in earnest in 1938 with comedic performances far removed from his classical training, but roles in which he excelled. Coburn’s best movie roles are the ones where he perfectly balances the high-brow snootiness with a touch of bumbling fool. Roger Ebert described him as a toned down Charles Laughton and that’s exactly right. Coburn paved the road to stardom at the age of 61 and became a steadfast presence that could be counted on for his comedic timing as charming old men with affected manner and accent – always with a monocle, which he removed only to eat, and sometimes chomping on a cigar. One cannot help but smile when he appears on screen.

Clarence Brown‘s Of Human Hearts (1938) offered Coburn his first substantial role alongside a first-rate cast led by Walter Huston, James Stewart and another terrific character actor, Beulah Bondi. Although that film is a Western, Coburn played a doctor, the type of professional role along with several judges, business men, a couple of “sirs,” and rich guys that he enjoyably brought to the screen throughout his career.

Charles Coburn’s memorable big screen credits are too numerous to list, but he made important contributions to such enduring classics as John Cromwell‘s Made for Each Other (1939) and Garson Kanin‘s Bachelor Mother (1939). A personal favorite of mine, Preston Sturges’ The Lady Eve (1941) wherein Coburn plays “Colonel” Harrington, father to Barbara Stanwyck’s Jean Harrington, a duo of card sharps adept at swindling the rich, would not be the same without him. The actor followed that Sturges gem with his first Oscar-nominated performance as an irascible tycoon who goes undercover as a shoe clerk at a department store to try to uncover agitators trying to form a union in Sam Wood’s The Devil and Miss Jones (1941). Starring Jean Arthur, Robert Cummings and a slew of fantastic character actors like Spring Byington, Edmund Gwenn, S. Z. Sakall, and William Demarest, you must make time to watch The Devil and Miss Jones if you’ve not seen it. It is bewitching fun.

Coburn and Jean Arthur in THE DEVIL AND MISS JONES

The 1940s served several standouts for Charles Coburn who appeared in 4 to 5 pictures a year in the early part of the decade. Of course, his Oscar-winning performance in Stevens’ World War II comedy The More the Merrier stands tall above the heap. Opposite Jean Arthur and Joel McCrea, Coburn is wonderful as the retired millionaire who finagles his way into a room during the wartime housing shortage. Coburn’s blustering but endearing manner in this film typifies the greatest gift he brought to the movies, by my estimation, and it is hard to resist. Variety agreed with me as of this movie they wrote, “A sparkling and effervescing piece of entertainment, The More the Merrier, is one of the most spontaneous farce-comedies of the wartime era. Although Jean Arthur and Joel McCrea carry the romantic interest, Charles Coburn walks off with the honors.”

Another worthy 1940s turn for Coburn was Ernst Lubitsch‘s Heaven Can Wait in 1943. Here he plays another grandfather and another millionaire with usual memorable flare alongside a stupendous cast led by Gene Tierney and Don Ameche. Once again I must mention Pichel’s Colonel Effingham’s Raid in which Coburn co-starred with Joan Bennett and William Eythe and several other veteran character actors like Donald Meek and Cora Witherspoon. This was a fun discovery.

Charles Coburn received his third Academy Award nomination for what TCM’s Robert Osborne described as a “rip-roaring performance” as a gruff but loving grandfather in the coming-of-age tale told in Victor Saville‘s The Green Years (1946). Following that performance, Coburn’s big screen appearances slowed down significantly. He had signed a contract with Columbia Pictures in 1945, which required only four films in two years. This meant that the actor had more time to return to the stage and to dedicate time to television work, which he did with gusto starting in 1950 as a premiere guest on many anthology series. Still, Coburn made a few notable pictures in the 1950s delighting audiences with a comedic millionaire performance as Sir Francis “Piggy” Beekman in Howard Hawks‘ Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953), a role that could have easily been creepy portrayed by anyone else. He also played against type in John Guillermin‘s murder mystery, Town on Trial (1957), which I must get my hands on.

Coburn with Jane Russell and Marilyn Monroe in a publicity shot for GENTLEMEN PREFER BLONDES

Coburn’s final screen appearance was in The Best of the Post, an anthology series adapted from stories published in the Saturday Evening Post magazine. The March 1960 episode is titled “Six Months More to Live.” That seems a somber ending to a stellar career, but one to be proud of for many reasons not the least of which is that Coburn appeared in five Oscar Best Picture nominees: Kings Row (1942), The More the Merrier (1943), Heaven Can Wait (1943), Wilson (1944) and Around the World in 80 Days (1956). Only the last of these won, but they were all improved by the Coburn brand.

At the time of his death Charles Coburn was married to Winifred Natzka who was forty-one years his junior. The two were married in 1959 and had a daughter together. The actor’s final acting role was fittingly on stage in a production of You Can’t Take It With You in Indianapolis, Indiana a week before his death at the age of eighty-four. The previous year he had been honored with a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame located at 6268 Hollywood Boulevard. If you ever pass that address be sure to look downward at his star – it was well earned.

A Tribute to Charles Coburn Out of the blue I watched a new-to-me movie the other day about a retired Army Colonel who takes on corrupt politicians in his hometown in Georgia.