#mr enfield x reader

[spaceagebachelormann]

Hi. I love your JnH fanfics- And I thought- What If you did them, with a sick S/O? Have a lovely day!

✧.* 𝐉𝐄𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐘𝐃𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐒/𝐎

╰┈➤ MASTERLIST. NAVIGATION.

╰┈➤ CARMILLAS NOTES : omg tysm!! i rlly love writing for j&h <3 also wasnt sure if you just wanted hyde and jekyll or all the characters so i just did them all

╰┈➤ WARNINGS: a few mentions of throw up. hyde is ooc

𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐉𝐄𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐋

⭐️ he doesn’t panic that much and he’s very caring while you’re sick. he kind of hates cooking as i said in an earlier headcanon but he pushes that to the side as his main focus is taking care of you. he doesn’t let you get up from your bed unless he has to change the sheets and even then he just carries you to a chair. he’s not very afraid of getting sick so he’ll lay beside you and mess with your hair or just to keep you company, especially if you’re cold. he doesn’t hesitate to get up and get you an extra blanket if needed, or something else if the room is too hot. he’s very good about checking your temperature and getting you any food and water you might need, like i said before his only focus right now is making sure you get better.

𝐄𝐃𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐇𝐘𝐃𝐄

⭐️ doesn’t do as much as jekyll, but he tries his best (kind of.) he’ll mostly stay away for the most part and check up on you every few hours, but he doesn’t want to get sick. surprisingly, he’s actually pretty good at cooking and doesn’t mind doing it so he’s on it if you’re hungry. if he does stay in the room, it’s most likely in a chair beside your bed where he just rants about whatever until he gets bored or you fall asleep. he won’t ever admit it, but he actually kind of likes taking care of you. if you fall asleep uncovered by a blanket because it was hot, he rolls his eyes and covers your body with his jacket because the blanket might be too hot and his jacket will be better with keeping you cool. he’s weirdly gentle when your sick but never at any other times.

𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐄𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃

⭐️ he doesn’t really know what to do. obviously he really wants you to get better, but he’s completely unsure of what to do. the second he sees you’re ill he panics for the first ten minutes before calling utterson and explaining the situation to him. after talking to him for awhile, not very long but still a significant amount of time, his attention is back to you. he asks you what you need and what you want, what he can do for you, all of that. also doesn’t want to get sick but he’ll stay in the room, probably just in a chair a few feet away. if you ask him for anything he’s up and getting it before you have the full sentence out. also very willing to offer his jacket if you’re cold, has run down the hallway and tripped to get it for you before. he’s very worried the entire time you’re sick.

𝐆𝐀𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐋 𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍

⭐️ he’s probably the calmest of them all, close to jekyll. he already knows what to do. he has you lay in bed all day and is careful to keep his distance but is also never that far away. you don’t even have to ask him for food or water or to hold your hair back (if it’s long enough) if you throw up, he’s already doing it. every few hours he’ll reach over and place a hand on your forehead to check your temperature and keeps track of if it gets hotter or cools down, he calls for medical attention the second it’s unhealthily hot. if he has to go out and do something because he’s a busy man, he always leaves somebody in charge of making sure you don’t get even more sick or injure yourself in some way, and he’s very strict with making that clear. you’re only sick for a few days with him because he’s very quick and skilled with getting you back to good health.

𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐄 ��𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐎𝐍

⭐️ another one who’s very calm and quick with making you better, he is a doctor after all. even if he’s not that kind of doctor he’s still skilled with making you feel better. he’s very good at cooking and makes foods he knows will be easy to stomach and gives enough of it where you’ll be full but won’t throw up. every once in awhile he’ll come back into the room and have you sit up in bed and he’ll brush your hair and get you to go to the bathroom to brush your teeth or shower or whatever. once your body is a bit more healed and you aren’t dizzy much anymore, that’s when he’ll start to let you get up and get your own things but it really depends on what it is and how far away. if it’s down the hall or across the room he won’t stop you, but if it’s down the stairs or across the house he’ll convince you to let him get it for you. your healthy quickly with him as well, even quicker then with utterson.

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒

⭐️ she’s kind of worried the entire time. not completely but definitely isn’t very calm about you being sick. lucy herself hasn’t been sick much in her life so she’s not very experienced with taking care of sick people so she’ll ask you what you need and/or want. water, food, drinks, something to throw up in shes on it. she doesn’t really care if you get her sick and even if you do she’ll still be more focused on taking care of you then herself. she understands that sleeping with sick is difficult, so she’ll read to you or just rant about her day or sit there quietly depending on how you feel and let you rest your head on her shoulder/lap and play with your hair as an attempt to help you sleep. like i said she’s not very experienced so the entire time she wants to call jekyll or somebody for help but she’ll wait until she feels it’s completely necessary before asking for help. she might not admit it at first but she secretly didn’t really mind (liked) taking care of you.

[t0rturedangel]

╭ . . . 𝙳𝚛 𝙹𝚎𝚔𝚢𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙼𝚛. 𝙷𝚢𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 ⁽ᵒʳⁱᵍⁱⁿᵃˡ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ ⁺ ᵐᵃᶻᵐ ᵍᵃᵐᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ⁾ ੭

𝐃𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐉𝐄𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐋 — 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘥, 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺

⿸  𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚛  ➤ ﹝𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘤 𝘴𝘧𝘸 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘸 𝘩𝘤𝘴﹞ ⿸  𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐  ➤ ﹝𝘑𝘦𝘬𝘺𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘏𝘺𝘥𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘳﹞ ⿸  𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑  ➤ ﹝𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘴﹞

𝐌𝐑. 𝐄𝐃𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐇𝐘𝐃𝐄 — 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵

⿸  𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐  ➤ ﹝𝘑𝘦𝘬𝘺𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘏𝘺𝘥𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘳﹞ ⿸  𝙰 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎  ➤ ﹝𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘤 𝘴𝘧𝘸 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘸 𝘩𝘤𝘴﹞

𝐌𝐑. 𝐆𝐀𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐋 𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 — 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘸𝘺𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦��𝘥, 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳𝘴

𝐃𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐎𝐍 — 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘯, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥

𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐋𝐄 — 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘺𝘢𝘭 𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘳 𝘫𝘦𝘬𝘺𝘭𝘭, 𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥

𝐌𝐑. __ 𝐄𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃 — 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯, 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦

[mydear-corinthian]

Protection || Thomas Shelby x reader

Synopsis: You were protecting your son, Charlie when Billy Kimber's men ambushed your shared home. Pairing: Thomas Shelby x reader Warnings: ANGST w/ comfort, reader gets injured, gun violence, mentions of blood, swearing, Grace's being mentioned once - s2 spoiler Notes: Not proofread, grammatical errors, GIF is mine Click here to find the main masterlist. Click here to find the PEAKY BLINDERS masterlist.

As another regular evening took place, a sense of peace descended over Thomas Shelby and his wife's shared home. While Tommy was busy with his business and papers, you found yourself wandering the enormous area of the estate with your young son, Charlie.

Marriage with Tommy wasn't for the faint of heart. You were highly aware of the ongoing danger that accompanied his lifestyle, the circulating threats and enemies that followed your husband's every step. Despite the obvious risks your love for him remained strong. You treasured him not as an infamous gangster, but as the man who made you feel valued, protected, and appreciated.

There was nothing but silence in the huge home; you could hear the clock ticking and the curtains flapping as the breeze shook the cloth. It was a Saturday night, so the maids weren't working, leaving you and Charlie alone. Charlie's eyelids were going drowsy as you cuddled him, softly caressing his back and humming his favorite lullaby. Looking at the clock, you realized how late it was, and Tommy hadn't returned home yet.

You heard the main entrance door open with a loud bang. Although it seemed strange, you assumed Tommy was just returning from a stressful day at work. Charlie woke up from his sleep and let out a loud cry when you heard gunfires as you were ready to leave your shared room. You were so terrified that you thought your legs were paralyzed. Without wasting any time, you grabbed Charlie and put his little body against your shoulder, giving him a tight hug.

With Charlie in one hand, you dashed to the door, locked it almost instantly, and took out the Enfield No. 2 six-bullet handgun that your husband had given you as a birthday present from the nightstand's drawer. You grab the gun and duck into the shared bedroom's bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

The room was filled with the sound of the little Shelby's piercing cries, which seemed to come from every corner. You tried so hard to soothe him, cooing softly, but all it did was make his cries louder and more echoing through the walls. As you tried to calm him, your hands trembled with fear and your fingers stuttering, a sign of your growing terror running down your face. You felt powerless in the face of Charlie's constant tears, and you started to search for a way out of the mess.

You started nervously to pray while holding a child in your arms. Tears were beginning to fall from your eyes and the prayers were mumbling on your lips.

Charlie and you were found by whoever was in your shared room as you heard the door slam. Breathless, you lowered your son onto the empty, shallow bath tub behind you and spoke to him to stop crying. and that you will return quickly. When the toilet door opened, two armed men in a hideous black suit and a top hat appeared; they were Billy Kimber workers.

One of the armed men circled around you and exclaimed, "Aye look, it's Mrs. Shelby," as you aimed your handgun at him, your hands shaking with terror. You've never been skilled with a gun. Tommy giving you a gun like that surprised you. He would not stop stating, "You'll use that in the future."

and perhaps the future was today.

"Suprised a Shelby doesn't know how to use a gun. How about we gift Thomas Shelby the lifeless body of his dear wife?" the man laughed. You raised the gun without thinking, your hand steady from the rush of adrenaline pumping through you, and took aim at the man's skull. The bullet cracked sharply and shot out of the barrel, piercing the air and hitting its target with terrifying accuracy. With a bleak proof to your determination, fortune smiled on you as the bullet hit accurate, plunging into the man's forehead with fatal force and instantly taking his life.

Attempting to fire another shot to the other man, you missed.

Suddenly, you heard a bang go off but paid no mind. Attempting to shoot again, you finally succeded; three bullets all over the now lifeless man's torso. The sight of the lifeless bodies made you feel sick but you chose to ignore it as you dropped your used gun to go and grab Charlie and ask for help. You grabbed your son right away, immediately hugging him and kissed his little forehead.

Suddenly, you heard a familiar voice calling out your name; Tommy.

His voice reaching out for you made you sigh with relief. Your husband ran toward you as your legs found their way to the stairs to return to him. You embraced him, resting your head on his chest and taking in his manly scent as you exhaled. "Oh god, Tommy.."

She took Charlie out of your arms and gave you a minute to rest in Tommy's calming presence in Polly's comforting presence. Tommy's hand gently cradled the back of your head as you leaned into him, seeking solace from the chaos of the moment in his gentle, comforting touch. His voice, a comforting whisper that passed through the chaos, whispered, "You're safe now, love."

He felt a warm wetness on his dark blue vest, making him break the hug to see what it was.

Tommy's eyes widened in fear at what he saw, and he let out a gasp. Once an image of elegance, your immaculate white evening gown now had a scarlet stain of blood creeping across it, the color standing out against the fabric. The room seemed to spin in a dizzying twister, threatening to paralyze you as the color faded from your face, your face was pale and your vision seemed to spin like a twister.

"Did you get shot?" he worriedly asked. Confused by his question, you looked down at your stomach, seeing the color red slowly colonizing your white evening gown.

"I - I um.. Tommy, I feel dizzy.." your fragile legs gave up, his strong arms catched you almost immediately.

Your eyes were starting to drop, your body was slowly getting cold, your muscles giving up.

"T - Tommy, why is so cold..?"

Fuck, he mentally cursed at the sight that met his eyes. It was as if God had judged him once more. Grace - this seemed so familiar. His fingers were shaking with fear and worry, his eyes were beginning to water, and his heart had stopped.

"We need a medic!" Polly shouted.

He tries to calm himself down by caressing the strands of your hair before tucking it behind your ear. "Please, stay." he begged.

His frustration was boiling over and his impatience was burning in the way he spoke. He gave orders for the medics with a strong edge to his voice, desperation and anger infusing each word as he demanded their immediate presence.

"Tommy.." you softly called his name before darkness took you.

Your stomach hurt and your brain throbbed when you woke up. Beside you, you noticed your husband uncomfortably sleeping on the wooden chair. You noticed that the ash tray on the table stand next to you was filled with used cigarettes, indicating that you had been out for a while. You were trying to sit up and Tommy woke up to the sound of your pained moans. His bright blue eyes met yours. Eyebags developed under his eyes as a result of struggling to sleep due to the chance that you wouldn't wake up anymore.

"Easy, love." he said.

In an attempt to prevent him from harming you, he cradled your back so you could lie down peacefully once more—as though you were a piece of glass that would shatter the moment it was touched.

He deeply blames himself for what happened to you. If only he was there that night. If only he went home early, you and Charlie wouldn't be in this situation.

"Where's Charlie?" you asked right away, your eyes looking everywhere in the room to see if your child was there or not.

"He's with Aunt Pol, (y/n). He's safe with her, don't worry."

With both of his hands clasped around yours, he sobbed out loud in front of you, unable to stop himself from crying. He felt responsible, guilty, and like a terrible partner for failing to give you protection.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry.." he cried as he apologized, kissing your hands.

You smiled softly as you placed your right hand on his face for him to look at you.

"It's not your fault, Tommy. The good thing is that me and Charlie are safe." reassuring, you gave him a weak smile.

"I thought I lost you." he exhaled in exhaustion, standing up as he kissed your head.

"I would never leave you, Tommy."

"Please don't."

[deepperplexity]

Prompt 24: Christmas Party

Pairing: Judge Turpin x Wife!Reader

POV: Second, Reader

Setting: Sir Penn’s Estate, Christmas Party 1850

A/N: So, it’s the last day of 2023 and I’m finally able to sit down for a little while to write and post this. We are having a calm New Year Celebration, just us three here at home with homemade sushi and some (neighbours will be shooting a lot though) fireworks so no dressing up, no extra cleaning, no extra cooking or prepping or anything (yes, I’m loving it after the super busy holiday 😅). This is a nice little thing to wrap up the year with I think, we get to look back a bit and then enjoy the present time as well with a stoic and sweet Turpin 🥰👏

A/N+:  I thought I’d have some fun and use some real people this time around, sprinkling in a bit of accurate history among the fiction is always a good deal of fun (do keep in mind I have used the real people to enhance this story and my portrayal of them aren’t accurate to any more degree than names, ages, time stamps and professions - have no idea how they were in real life so I’ve just sprinkled in some history I’ve found through the past few years while I’ve written Turpin stories. Just thought I ought to use some of it, you know? 😂) so you’ll meet a man called Johan Penn and his wife Ellen Penn (neé English) as they match the time frame and they too have a huge age gap (21 years) between them which I thought would be great fun to use 🥰 1850 they had two children and one on the way as well so figured I'd use that too ^^

Tags/TW’s: Confessions, Memories, Societal Differences, Fluff, Affection, Growth, Age Gap, Dancing, Friendship

Word Count: 2.5k+

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

The grand hall of Sir Penn’s estate was dressed in all things Christmas — garlands, tinsel, hundreds of candles, and sparkling decorations, each pillar wrapped in red and green, each surface covered in all things wonderfully Christmas-themed. You were in heaven, except for one thing — your husband was nowhere to be found after the first dance of the evening which he’d spent in a stiff sort of grace while twirling you about the room among all the pretty and chatty couples.

“Oh, Y/n, how good to see you!” came the sweet voice of Mrs Ellen Penn, you had first known her as Ellen English though as both you and Richard had been at their wedding three years ago. You felt a kinship with the sweet woman, both of you marrying men far beyond your age, but she had kept within her societal standing as she was the daughter of another well-known engineer, William English of Enfield, much like her husband was John Penn of Johan Penn and Sons . Your husband was of a different societal standing, of course, but both ranked high in their respective fields and often mingled in the same circles so you and Ellen had become great friends over the past years.

“Ellen, good evening, how are you?” you asked, smiling brightly while glancing toward her rounded belly where their third child grew. She laughed and patted her stomach affectionately.

“Oh, this is a wild one, I assure you, he’ll be the brawny one, I can feel it.”

“Sure it’s a he?” you asked and she nodded. “Well, three sons, what a blessing you are to your husband,” you continued and she laughed once more.

“I think he’s quite happy with his lot in life, lord knows I am. I do wish I could have a little daughter too though, you know?” You nodded, but you weren’t overly fond of children and still had none of your own. You were neither happy nor sad about it, your husband was not the fathering type either, you did suspect he wished for a son to carry on his legacy but you also knew he was not fond of the idea of children beyond that. As he always said, he was perfectly happy to simply have you as you were all that mattered to him.

“Where is the great judge?” Ellen asked while glancing around the room, being one of few who knew how you two loved each other and how well he treated you there was none of the usual fear or the like in her voice or expression.

“I confess, he’s managed to slip away. I don’t know where he walked off to but I’m sure he’ll find his way back, as he always does,” you said with a smile and Ellen smiled back at you. Both of you had been blessed with husbands who adored you, were fools in love, and were beyond possessive of all things regarding you — it was nice to have a friend who understood, who was in the same position in some ways. The gossip about you had been hard to deal with at first, seeing as you were of lower standing than your husband and with such an age difference the talks had been quite loud about town — with Ellen by your side, as a true friend in kind, things had become much easier.

You stood off to the side, watching the room while hunting for the man of your dreams who nearly none else seemed able to see as anything other than the ruthless judge who dolled out harsher sentences than any other in the country. He was more to you, different to you, something else to you entirely. It hadn’t always been like that, of course. You smiled to yourself as memories of the very first Christmas party you had celebrated together flooded your mind and you drifted off to the past while sipping a ridiculously expensive champagne…

“Will you come visit next week?” you asked and Ellen beamed at you.

“I would love to, I can leave John and William with my mother for an evening,” she said and you nodded, knowing full well it was for the benefit of both of you if she did not bring her children — they were two and one years old so they were a handful of needing constant attention and supervision.

“Ellen, my sunshine,” came the voice of Sir Penn and you both turned towards the man with his full beard and slightly upturned moustache. “Come dance with me,” he continued and you said your goodbyes before the two walked off. You felt blessed in life at that moment, surrounded by splendour and grandeur you were now used to. Richard had made sure of that, spoiling you endlessly in a manner only he ever could.

Four years earlier…

He was such a harsh, stoic man. Not a smile to be seen, not a softness to him in any manner. It had been a mere month since your November wedding, not enough time to get to know the man who had taken you off your family’s poor hands to be dressed in finery and held at a strange distance of close but not too close, far away but not too far away — as if your husband had a shield around him none could penetrate yet physically he had you close.

Your arms were wrapped around his, your hands gently resting atop his wrist, and it felt as if you had been standing there for an eternity, barely speaking a word or even being acknowledged at all. It was nearly as if you did not exist. Is it because of you, or because of my background? You wondered while you glanced up at the man whose arm you graced. The fact you got tingly all over at his appearance was something you barely could admit to yourself. He was so much older, his greying hair and the slight wrinkles to his face only made him more handsome in your eyes though. But how could you ever confess to such a thing? You still were not sure why the man had wed you.

“Judge Turpin,” said yet another round-bellied man as he bowed his head to your husband while passing by in the grand Hall of a man called Sir John Penn. You knew nothing of the world you had entered, nor any of the people inhabiting it. It was a terrifying place to be, yet you were not truly afraid as your husband always kept you close (just never close enough).

“Lord Burlington,” your husband said in that drawling dark voice of his but there was no bow of his head, a mere tilt of his chin was enough apparently.

“Tired?” he suddenly asked while you shifted your weight from foot to foot to ease the discomfort of standing still for so long.

You glanced up at him. “No, simply stiff,” you admitted while a slight blush warmed your cheeks from his stormy gaze solely focused on you.

“A dance, perhaps?” he continued and you thought his voice would be your undoing. You found no words so simply nodded and he led you out on the dance floor in that stiff yet gracefully respect commanding manner.

You danced around the room in a waltz, he led you with expertise and there was no hardship in following his lead. He really is a good dancer, if only he would soften a tad… He tugged you a little closer as you thought of that and your breath hitched.

“You look confused,” he murmured for only you to hear, “am I not leading well?”

“Oh, no, no you are an excellent dancer,” you hurriedly said in as low a tone as you could while he would still be able to hear you.

“Then why, do tell, the confusion?” You blushed even deeper at that, averting your gaze to the golden pin in his ascot to gather yourself as you had been wondering how you could be so attracted to a man like him all evening.

“Love?” he urged and your heart leapt in your chest, as it always did when he used any sweet terms while speaking to you.

“I— You are very handsome, sir,” you whispered and his fingers flexed by your waist.

“Is that so?”

“Yes…”

“And you are confused by this?”

“N-no,” you stuttered in admittance. “I am confused as to why I find you to be the most handsome man…”

“The most handsome?”

“Yes…” Not that I’ve found many men handsome before… Perhaps I have a very singular taste? Strange taste? Wrong taste? That last part made you nibble your lip and Richard spun you around.

As he caught you back up, holding you far too close, he leaned in and whispered by your ear. “I shall only ever need you to find me handsome, to hear I am the most handsome one in your beautiful eyes matters greatly.” His baritone voice had you shivering, goosebumps travelling down your spine in waves with the sensation of his breath against your skin.

“Richard, you are so confusing,” you confessed, your voice a meek noise you had little control over as it hitched.

“How come?”

“You are so cold, yet you say such sweet things at times.”

“I have been cold toward you?” A sound close to alarm in his voice.

“No, well, yes, well, no,” you stuttered as you thought of it. He hadn’t really been cold toward you, he was gentle and somewhat kind, a bit stiff and stoic, rough around the edges and somewhat harsh at times but no, he had not really been cold — in your presence towards others, yes, but not towards you now that you thought about it.

Had you really done so so many times? Had you missed his efforts? Been blind to his trials of getting closer to you while you had done all you could to be the good wife of a man in high society — in a world you did not belong, and did not know how to live within?

“Perhaps I ought to be the one confused,” he said with something you couldn’t possibly believe to be mirth in his voice. “You watch me with the most longing in your eyes, yet you do not take kindly to any of my advances, hiding away in the study or refusing to speak to me altogether when I endeavour to start a conversation with you.”

“What?”

“Oh, sweet wife, you have not once engaged fully in a conversation with me, no matter my efforts to start one. You always turn your eyes away, fidgeting with those delicate fingers of yours or offer me one of those tight-lipped smiles. Yes, exactly like that,” he said as you smiled up at him tightly, endeavouring to stop yourself from breaking out in a flurry of words that you wished to speak but were afraid to as they were wholly improper given the differences between you and your husband.

“I don’t know how to act in your world,” you confessed, feeling guilt and shame overwhelm your heart and mind.

“Act?”

“Yes, act, be,” you said.

“Love,” Richard said and stopped dancing. “You do not act with me, never with me. You live and you are you. There is no acting involved, what ever put that notion in your pretty head?” he asked with scrunched brows as he nearly glared down at you with disappointment.

You gulped down a breath, feeling your shoulders tense under those intimidating eyes you adored. “I am not from your world, I am—”

“You are everything and all the things I could hope for, just as you are. Do you not think I am well aware of who you are? Where you come from? Do you think me a man of little resources and forethought?” You shook your head and he held on tightly to your waist.

Current time…

Richard leaned in closer, the world fell away and the beautiful music seemed to die out.

“I am well aware of who you are, from your favourite colour to your preferred foods, your manner of acting with people you care for and how you behave toward strangers. How you fidget when you are worried, how your shoulders tense and how you bite your lip when holding back words, I am beyond aware of your meagre upbringing and the lack of education within high society,” he said in a rough sort of way you couldn’t make heads or tales of.

“What are you saying?”

“I know you, love, and there is no need to be anything or anyone except for yourself with me.”

You chuckled to yourself, feeling a tinge of a blush creep up your neck while you thought of that day when everything between the two of you had changed. How you had dared to open up to the harsh man who craved your true self while he had softened toward you and become an encouraging, doting husband who made you blossom into the assured and strong woman you were now. The journey had not been easy, or smooth, but you had both grown together.

Richard had changed little to the outside world, while you had become a different person with him by your side. He was an affectionate, if somewhat depraved and simultaneously doting lover and caring husband even if he was somewhat possessive and harsh. He was perfect for you, as you were perfect for him. You challenged him nowadays, you dared speak your mind unhindered and he actually listened to your words like none other ever had — like he listened to none other, and no matter what it said about you it honestly made you feel too good to be heard by him.

“Love, there you are,” Richard said, jolting you out of your thoughts, while he walked up to you in two long strides.

“Richard, darling, where have you been?” you asked while slipping onto his arm after he gave your temple a swift kiss.

“Sir Penn wished for a moment, some legal matters for the Institution.”

“The Mechanical Engineers? Everything alright?”

“Oh, more than alright, love. Do not worry that pretty head of yours, I know you care deeply for Mrs Penn, and given her current state I dare say it’s at its height for you, but there are no worries, only paperwork,” Richard said with a hint of a smile.

“Truly, Richard? Paperwork during the Christmas party?”

“My apologies, sweet wife,” he said with softness and kissed the top of your head.

“You are forgiven, if you dance a waltz with me,” you challenged and the deep but low chuckle he graced you with was like music to your soul.

“I shall gladly parade you about, my most beautiful wife,” he said and began leading you onto the dance floor while your fingers squeezed his and he looked at you with that stormy gaze of his that promised endless love and adoration…

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

A/N: THAT WAS IT FOR THIS YEAR DARLINGS! 71k of words and it's all finished! 😱❤

The last fic of Rickmas2023 and even if I'm a few days late I finished this year and I wrote a fic for every single prompt and it's been quite the journey. I have really enjoyed this year's event, and doing so many serials was a real challenge tbh but I feel it was the right way to go this year. Also, sidenote, the Penn family does have a daughter a few years after this as well so Ellen's wish does get fulfilled!

I hope you've had lots of fun and feel happy about how this year turned out. This last fic is a little extra dedicated to my Blossom ( @snowblossomreads ), who chose Turpin as the final character for this year's round and I am ever so grateful for her and each one of you darlings ❤❤❤ I will be getting to the comments, reblogs and tags steadily during the upcoming days as well - I am so so so thankful and grateful for all your loving words and all the time you've spent with me and my writing this December. THANK YOU!

I wish you a super happy 2024 - filled with loved, joy and all the good things! ❤❤❤

Q: Which of my fics were your favourite of RICKMAS2023? 🥰

A: For me, I'd have to say continuing Hans and Anna-Louise's story was my favourite to re-visit and write, but my favourite in general would probably have to be Prompt 9. Missing Star - I have no exact reason, I just absolutely loved it 🥰

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[Dec:2023]

[lucio-morgasson-husband]

"Danse macabre" Edward hyde X reader

Warnings:blood, bad guy ,light obscenity

The afternoon was quite nice the roses and my face were blown by the gentle breeze of fresh air.Ti utterson said he wouldn't be all night I went out with a glass of wine to the garden, it was so beautiful to see the roses.

" What a quiet night" I watched as the dim glow of the moon revealed almost total darkness, I heard a noise in the thorny bushes . "¿Is it some animal that was trapped?" Put the cup aside , taking my dress so it would not get dirty with mud and I approached cautiously to avoid pricking myself with the thorns , too bad I was not careful "ouch, im such a fool! "I cursed bringing my finger to my mouth."It hurts ..."

"Of course it was going to hurt... Did you want me to caress the thorns of the roses?"I heard a hoarse voice that gave me chills it was like the thick fog of London, I looked everywhere looking for the owner of that disturbing voice .

"Who's there ?"I turned around looking for him until something moved in the bushes I backed away scared starting to pray

"I'm not a demon, calm down " And someone came out of there unconcerned that his clothes would be ripped by the thorns he didn't care, he was a little short, with hair darker than coal, a disturbing face if I can say that...Hard to describe how it was ,His action made me defensive. I was scared but I had to stay calm."I told you, I'm not a demon"

"Worse than that you're a Monster!'I threw something at him, I don't remember what it was but it made him really mad, he wasn't a human, I knew that.

"Have more respect, you will not mock " He grabbed my wrist so hard, it was like the strength of a hundred men ,I struggled with him but it was very useless doing that on my part.

"Let go of me!" He released me, I breathed relieved rubbing my wrist "Hey, respect the ladies! He is a man who has no respect or chivalry."

"Ha! Respect? Look who's saying it..."He looked me up and down, then smiled.It sent chills down my spine ." give me your hand "

"Because I should ? Can't you see that it hurts and it won't stop bleeding"He rolled his eyes and took my hand by force he took my finger starting to suck and lick the blood, that caused me to shiver.

"What are you doing ?!" He let go of my hand to leave me.

"I'm edward, edward hyde" I mention, walking slowly in circles looking at the garden "Nice garden by the way"

"You haven't told me what is the reason for your strange visit?" I asked, I've never seen him in my life, I once heard Utterson talk about him with Enfield but I never knew who he was until now.

"I was curious to know about that little girl that Gabriel utterson was talking about, I had never heard someone say wonders about a young girl "He cupped my cheek, his hand was cold... colder than snow or like he was dead. "Something happens?"

"no nothing happens"Take my hand away, that man gave me chills, it was terrifying his face caused me something that was not fear ... it was more than terror.

"Well pretty woman, why don't we enjoy the night, you and I are...alone" what?! What did he mean by that ?! , That man named Edward gave me a bad feeling, he approached where he had left my glass, played with the glass moving it in circles p Taking a drink of that wine he was drinking."You have very good taste with wine dear"He gave a hesitant laugh to take another sip from my glass,Suddenly he was on the steps leading inside and he extended his hand to me.

"Come, the night is young"I took his hand and he ran inside I followed him, we reached the hall How did he know where each part of the house was? It was weird .

I saw him approach the turntable, he looked excited, what was he planning to do?

"Would you like to dance with me until you drop?I ask, I looked at him for a few seconds but I couldn't keep my eyes on his red eyes, he terrified me.

"With all pleasure, Mr. Hyde"I leaned down to bow gently lifting my dress, I approached him, I took my waist I held onto his shoulder, we held hands and so the waltz began .His movements were elegant and smooth, it made me nostalgic, as if he was dancing with someone else, it was as if I already knew him, Everything about him seemed familiar to me, even that aroma...almonds And a touch of cognac no, red wine "I'll apologize for what I'm going to say, Mr. Hyde, but you look familiar."

He just smiled quietly...

"I can't tell you for sure if you know me from somewhere but I can say that we have a very common acquaintance between the two of us"

"What does it mean?"I felt how he stopped abruptly still holding my waist and his hand was still connected with mine "If you know me, you know that aroma of almonds... I won't tell you who I am, it's just a facade of absolute goodness "I cupped my cheek, I still maintained the position that it was cold, her touch made me shiver. "I always wanted you, I saw you in those meetings... but I never had the courage to approach"His lips were inches from mine, he put his thumb on my lips "You have beautiful lips, that red color makes you look... special"

"What did you mean you want me? ...he had never seen him, the only meetings he went to were doctor jekyll's"

"Yes, we are on the same page, you are like an angel, a beautiful lady"God, it was quite strange... I had never seen it before, I never saw it.At one point he began to kiss me, my heart was beating fast. I admit it, it's scary and strange but he was very gentlemanly and courteous he knew how to treat me, I put my hands behind his neck caressing His soft, coal-black hair was a quiet kiss, minutes later they turned to languid kisses, he was on top of me on the couch. He pulled away from my lips, gasping for oxygen.

"I always wanted you, and I proved it to you" That smell was still familiar to me, its smell of almonds combined with a perfume and red wine. He approached me again kissing me more fiercely, I felt like touching the sky, I ran a hand behind my back looking for the knot of my corset, I put my hands on his chest to remove the Vest and shirt, he was quite cooperative with me, his body was slim but he looked very good, messy hair obstructing his face.He pulled my dress up taking my thigh, proceeding to kiss me on the neck and clavicle, I did not avoid the fact of that pleasure caused by that strange boy.He intoxicated me with his elegant movements and his aroma, but something in me clicked.

"Wait...this isn't right..."I took him by the shoulders staring at him

"Why not? We are enjoying our carnal passion, let yourself go, I know that deep down you want me..."

"It's a misunderstanding. I...I don't want you. I love...."

"Henry Jekyll? Or am I wrong?" That ? How did she know? She hadn't told him anything about him."That's why...I want you...I know who you are my dear...You don't know who I am because this is the real me, isn't my scent familiar to you? Doesn't it remind you of... henry?"

"Henry... is that you henry?" Sure, why hadn't I thought of that? There was only one who could have smelled so sweet "But how is it possible?"I took his cheeks, before he could say anything I heard the front door click, at the speed of light we got up and dressed again edward helped me with my corset, the problem was My very well combed hair was made a bird's nest, I untied it leaving it loose.

"See you soon my love.." He kissed me one last time before he went out the window, he was quite agile ,I still couldn't believe it was Henry Jekyll, it was very different...

[k2kid]

A photograph of 18th Battalion soldiers training. These soldiers are are members of “C” Company. Sergeant John Wallace stands at the ready with a Ross Rifle and Baynet with other members of his company. He is stading front row, 3rd from the right. Lance-Sergeant Sifton, VC, is standing to the extreme right with the tip of his bayonet almost touching the frame of the photograph. This rare photograph was definitely taken from between October 1914 to August 30, 1916 (the date the Lee-Enfield SMLE was issued to the Battalion). It was most likely taken in England at West-Sandling May – September 1915. The Ross rifle had a shorter bayonet than the SMLE and there was a gap between the forward part of the barrel and the attachement points of the bayonet and handle. Source: David Wallace via the 18th Battalion Facebook Group.

A series of four news articles from the St. Thomas Times-Journal illuminates the career of John A. Wallace who was an original member of the 18th Battalion[i]. The articles span from November 1914 to October 1915 and offer insights into the life of Wallace, and by extension, the other non-commissioned men of the Battalion. The articles cover four quite discrete parts of an 18th Battalion soldiers’ service and allow the past to become part of the reader’s present.

John Wallace enlisted on October 26, 1914 in St. Thomas, Ontario. Initially a Private, he had earned the promotion to the rank of Corporal[ii] by the time the 18th Battalion embarked for England in April 1915. He must have been a capable leader and soldier, for being only the age of 22 years old, he had claimed experience with the 2 years with the  Heavy Battery Artillery, Edinburgh, Scotland; 2 years with the Lothian and Border Horse; and a further 2 years with the 25th Regiment[iii]. Certainly, his promotion to corporal was indicative of his abilities and eventually he would earn the rank of Sergeant with the Battalion as it trained in England. He later would obtain the rank of Lieutenant and serve with the 58th Battalion, C.E.F. and sustaining wounds serving in the field.

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The first article, dated November 5, 1914 outlines the activity of recruitment of the men to form the 2nd Canadian Contingent. St. Thomas’ sons appear eager to join and the allotment of 100 enlistments has been obtained. It relates how five recruits went to London, Ontario on that date which meant that only three more enlistments had to be completed before the allotment was filled from that city. Wallace figures prominently in the piece having his name listed first among the five going to London. It appears that his stature in the community, and as will be seen later, in business and golf makes the news of his military experience noteworthy to the town of St. Thomas.

Several of the named men would be members of the 18th Battalion (see endnotes for links to their Soldiers Pages), with Lewis, Green, Beeson, and Haller being clearly identified through their service records.

Bertram M. Haller is an interesting case as he travelled from Preston (Cambridge), Ontario and appears to have been interviewed as part of this article as it is recorded he “…is eager to get away as soon as possible.” It is further interesting to note that all five men identified in this article that served with the 18th Battalion survived the war.

The war was into its fourth month and during that time the 1st Contingent had been formed and it had left for England for further training and acclimation only three weeks prior to this story. The enthusiasm of joining up was evident with the ability to fill this draft.

FIVE MORE MEN OFF FOR CAMP

John Wallace, James Grant[iv], Fred Lewis[v], Harry Green[vi], and Cecil Robertson[vii]

LIEUT. BEESON[viii] HEARS OF HIS APPOINTMENT

St. Thomas Contingent of One Hundred Practically Complete Now.

Five more recruits went to the camp at London Thursday morning marking ninety-seven in al that have gone from this city. As Private J. Aldrich is to be returned home owing to the serious illness of his mother, four more are required and three have passed the doctor. The other man comes up for examination before the doctor this evening.

The five men who went to London on Thursday morning were: John Wallace, James Grant, Fred Lewis, Harry Green and Cecil Robertson. The former, a member of the local Dominion Bank staff, was presented with a wrist watch by the members of the staff prior to his departure to the mobilization camp.

Lt. Beeson Accepted.

Lieut. James Beeson, Collegiate Institute physical instructor, had been notified of his appointment as an officer with the second expeditionary force and had been notified to report at London Friday morning. Lieuts. W.J.Y. Hardy and J.G. Coyne have not as yet been notified to report.

The following are the names of the additional three men who have passed:

William Hill, city, aged 28, chef, no service.

Percy Hill, Tillsonburg, married, aged 37, eight years with the Third West Surries.

Robert Howse, aged 33, married, four years First Tar Hamlet Regiment.

Burt M. Haller[ix] also applied for enlistment on Thursday afternoon and he will be examined for the final man of the 100 allowed from here. He came to the city for the purpose of enlisting[x] at noon and is eager to get away as soon as possible.

Source: St. Thomas Times-Journal. October 19, 1915.

The second letter appears to be written in late May 1915. As the Battalion had only arrived in England in April and established its presence in West Sandling, Kent on the 29th. The War Diary is not overly specific to the activities of the Battalion during that month and it appears to be a time of re-organization and preparation for training. It appears that the non-commissioned and commissioned officers had time allocated for training with units with more experience, as is related in this letter. Sergeant Wallace is attached for temporary duty with the battalion connected with the training and recuperation of the men of the Princess Patricia’s Light Infantry (PPCLI) and it there seems to be a touch of pride from the tone of Wallace’s letter as he relates his connection to this storied unit that had suffered so much at 2nd Ypres during the first use of gas by the Germans during an offensive action.

The letter to Dominion Bank Manager E.S. Anderson is reprinted in full and does not appear to be subject to censorship. It gives a good account of the news that was sure to be on all the 2nd Contingent troops’ lips as they prepared for active duty at the front. The war had been active for almost a year and the casualties witnessed and conversations had by Wallace with veterans would dispel any myths about combat for him and his fellow soldiers. He represents his experiences in a matter-of-fact method without undue sentimentality or exaggeration. One can read between the lines what the effects of combat had to the members of the 1st Canadian Contingent and, particularly, the PPCLI.

Sergeant Wallace then relates his experiences about his course in musketry and from the very early start he has to make from his billet to the training location it appears that he may be attached as an instructor-trainee. Most musketry training sessions appear to last between thirty minutes to an hour (and it is surprising to note the total lack of musketry training of the Battalion during it time in England. The Battalion spend more time on bayonet training, perhaps for physical training and esprit de corps) so it would be reasonable to surmise that Sergeant Wallace was instructing if he had to start so early in the morning.

Sergeant Wallace also gives us a idea of his sense of humour relating, as he does, about his propensity of sleeping in late when he was a civilian and relating how strong his appetite is.

PTE JOHN WALLACE of ST. THOMAS TELLS OF HIS VARIED EXPERIENCES

Former Member of the Dominion Bank Staff Here Writes Interesting Letter to E.S. Anderson – Stories of Fighting in France

Sgt. J.A. Wallace, ledger keeper at the local branch of the Dominion bank at the time of he enlisted with the 18th Battalion, 2nd Canadian Contingent, at present in Shorncliffe camp in England, writes[xi] interestingly of the strenuous training being given there, and of the large number of the wounded who are convalescing at Shorncliffe hospital in the following letter to E.S. Anderson, manager of the Dominion bank:

Dear Mr. Anderson:

I have just returned from furlough. I had five days which I spent at home[xii]. I think I had the happiest holiday a man could ever had, but the time was much too short.

I have been with my own battalion very little since coming to England, most of my time being spent with the Patricia Pats [Princess Patricia’s Canadian Light Infantry], which regiment[xiii] I was attached to for a bayonet fighting course. At the base in England where I was, the only men who are there are the wounded and maimed, who are either waiting for their discharge or being trained, that is those of whom are able for further service.

Stories of Awful Fighting.

In the Sergeant’s mess where I was all the sergeants of course had been out in France but where invalided home, and of course I heard a few things while with them about the actual conditions at the front. Apparently, it is an actual hell out there at times[xiv]. All the sergeants in the Pats had practically seen some kind of active service before, some of them having five or six medals but the mention of previous campaigns[xv] and contrasting them with the present big job, only caused laughter. I had a severe course of physical training and bayonet fighting while here[xvi]. The instructor seems to know the limit of human endurance – – I don’t think — because he just about finished me, we had eight hours a day of it. I managed to pull through, however, with an additional three or four inches on to my chest, and a feeling also that I can play my part in the game, and take any hardships that may come my way.

Off to the Front Soon[xvii].

I understand that we won’t be here for very long now, as the Canadian casualties must now be around seven thousand[xviii] now and the gaps have to be filled some way. I heard to-day that three or four hundred of this battalion have to be drafted over the line next week to replace the losses of the Pats, which practically a new regiment now, there scarcely being a single man of them on the field now, that is of the original regiment. I noticed from the casualty list that Hugh Somerville of St. Thomas had gone under[xix]. The Canadians got into two terrible cut-ups at Hill 60 and Ypres[xx], but they made a great name form themselves on this side, as fighters.

I am stationed at the present near Folkestone, at which part some of the wounded come in and they do roll in there – by the boat load. The other morning I counted inside of about three hours five trainloads go past. It is a sad thing to watch – boys who, some of them, can’t be more than sixteen or seventeen, carried on the train absolutely all in; but never a murmur of pain or anything else.

Reville at 3:45 a.m.

I am at present taking a course of musketry at Hythe, in Kent. I have to be there on the range at 6 a.m. which is more than an hour’s walk from where I am stationed. The please part of this business is, that at the very pleasing time in the morning – 3.45 a.m. to be exact – Sergeant Wallace, the one-time nine o’clock riser, jumps out of bed. Reville [sic] in ordinary times here has always been 5.15 for me, which to say the least as early enough, but this ‘ere new change of time fixes me. Since it came in I have curtailed my social engagements at Folkestone considerably. If I stay up at night until nine o’clock in fact, I get the idea that I am dissipating and out to be in bed. The weather here since I came with the exception probably of the first week, had been terribly warm. We go everywhere with our full pack now, of about 60 pounds, and it is all the time a case of sweating, sweating, sweating, and them some more sweat.

I beg to state that I am not losing any weight either, as I have as a precaution of future shortage, take the trouble to but a double degree of horse power into my eating strength.

Well, Mr. Anderson its getting around seven o’clock and this ‘ere three-forty-five reville [sic] is starting to prey on my mind. Knowing your strict observance to the virtue of punctuality, I know you don’t want me to be kept up too late or something might happen to my lethal senses in the morning. I must therefore cease fire.

To all the boys my salaams, and with kindest personal regards,

Sincerely yours,

JOHN WALLACE

Source: St. Thomas Times-Journal. June 12, 1915.

  The third letter is brief, possibly due to the increased tempo involving the preparations for the Battalion to move to the Continent and action at the Front. Sergeant Wallace had a relationship with the Elgin Golf and Country Club (now the St. Thomas Golf and Country Club) with the Golf Captain, a Mr. R.W. Johnson, and Sergeant Wallace is responding to a letter from Johnson. He pokes fun at the Kaiser, intermating that the war will be over for the next golf season and that the Kaiser may find fit employ as a golf caddy or greenkeeper.

Wallace then relates one being involved in creating improvised explosive devices as a substitute in expectation for the newly developed Mills Bomb. These temporary field expedient explosives were a stop-gap measure and had their own dangers, being locally manufactured and having variable quality control.

Sergeant Wallace ends the letter asking to be reminded to the other members of his golf club. It is interesting to note that as a bank clerk he had a membership to a golf club, probably in expectation of promotion and the club would offer a means for social mobility with the social and business contacts he would make from this membership.

KAISER MAY BE CADDYING OR GREENKEEPING AFTER THE WAR

John A. Wallace, Former St. Thomas Banker, Now at the Front, Suggests That His Impertinent Highness May be Looking for a Job When Fighting is Done

The following letter from Sergt. John A. Wallace, formerly of the Dominion Bank, will be read by his many friends with interest. Writing from Sandling Camp, England, just before leaving for France to R.W. Johnson, captain of the Elgin Golf and Country Club, he says:

“I must thank you sincerely for your kind letter, without forgetting, of course, the large hamper of tobacco which it will furnish. I deeply appreciate the kind sentiments expressed by you on behalf of the members of the club.

I am sorry to hear that the war had dampened golfing enthusiasm, but I think you can safely expect an open season next year. The Kaiser is such an extremely versatile creature that it is not unlikely he will be found at a job of caddying or greenkeeping somewhere when the war is over.

Training Completed[xxi]

Our training in England is now completed and we are packing up ready to leave. The first contingent has left us a reputation hard to live up to but if physique, training and spirit count for anything it well be done.

I have of late been learning the gentle art of making bombs out of jam pots, salmon tins, and gas pipe[xxii]. This home-made grenade business, particularly when we are practicing with live bombs, is not quite so peaceful by any means as the times I formerly had at the bank or on the golf course.

I often see James Ritch, although, generally I see more of his dust as he goes buzzing around on his motorcycle.

I hope I will again have the pleasure of meeting my friends at the golf club. Remember me to them all, as they have helped so much in making my stay in St. Thomas enjoyable and cherished.

With kindest personal regards I am yours very sincerely,

JOHN A. WALLACE”

Mr. Wallace is with “C” Company, 18th Battalion, 2nd C.E.F.

Source: St. Thomas Times-Journal. September 23, 1915.

The fourth, and last letter, is from Captain Charles Percy Ermatinger to is father. The letter completes the collection with a mention of Sergeant Wallace. The editor and journalists of the St. Thomas paper maintained a story consistent in its approach in making the news of the local men in the C.E.F. important and maintaining a “flow” of information.

This letter and story is short but gives an indication of the connectivity of people in a geographic area. Captain Ermatinger joined the C.E.F. at St. John, New Brunswick February 1915 and though he may have lived a thousand miles from his home town, he is cognizant of what news may be of interest to his father, a prominent judge and politician who may have been aware of a prominent insurance business man from London, Ontario. Captain Hallam had an involvement in the Canadian Militia and may have served with Captain Ermatinger as he “…makes a feeling reference…” to Hallam in his letter to his father.

A LETTER FROM CAPT. ERMATINGER

Has Been Transferred to Another Company; Meets John Wallace in England.

Judge C.O. Ermatinger has received an interesting letter from this son, Capt. Percy Ermatinger, who enlisted at Montreal with the Army Medical Corps. Capt. Ermatinger is now with No. 6 Company of the A.S.C., having recently transferred from No. 5 Company. His duties are much the same as a transport officer.

Capt. Ermatinger makes feeling reference to Capt. Arthur Hallam[xxiii], London, Ontario, who was killed in action September 18, and with whom he was well acquainted. Capt. Ermatinger mentions meeting John Wallace of the 18th Battalion, former teller of the Dominion Bank here, and other St. Thomas boys on the firing line. He enclosed in the letter some handkerchiefs worked on by a Belgian refugee.

Source: St. Thomas Times-Journal. October 19, 1915.

With the last letter Sergeant Wallace moves of with his men of “C” Company, 18th Battalion, 4th Canadian Infantry Brigade, 2nd Division to fight and survive the war, eventually obtaining the rank of lieutenant and serving with the 58th Battalion C.E.F. He would eventually achieve the rank of major and earned a discharge from the C.E.F. in November 1918[xxiv].

The letters offer the reader an insight into the influence of a man, not a native of Canada, who was engaged in the commercial and mercantile life of his community. Wallace’s efforts in this regard are reflected by the newspaper’s interest in telling his story, in part because it was relevant, and because it related to the social and business interest of the community in which it served. At 23 years of age John Andrew Robertson Wallace had established himself in his new community. He appears (very likely) to be a member of the local militia regiment, the 25th Elgin Regiment, to which he would be exposed to the other men of community, from the labourer to the lawyer. This experience, coupled with his prior military experience in Scotland, appears to have established his martial reputation and led to a promotion to Sergeant some time between his enlistment in November 1914 and the Battalion’s departure for England April 1915. In addition to his obvious banking and business interests, he joined the local golf club with all its social and sporting benefits.

Lieutenant Wallace in an undated photograph. Source: David Wallace via the 18th Battalion Facebook Group.

These connections were so strong that he maintained correspondence with the business and social members of the St. Thomas community, as shown by these letters. Wallace corresponds with his superior at the bank – a prominent business person. He maintains a relationship with the Golf Captain of his club. This position is a central one for the social and organizational aspect of the club and the captain would have had some credible social and political skills to become the captain. He further is sought out socially by Captain Ermatinger while in England. The connection between these two men is not fully realized from Captain Ermatinger’s letter but if the meeting was not a casual one it shows that Sergeant Wallace had the interest of some of the scions of St. Thomas society.

Death Notice, Barrie Examiner. August 12, 1937. Page 11. Source: David Wallace via the 18th Battalion Facebook Group.

After the war Wallace’s career as a banker took him to manage a Dominion Bank in Orillia. He died at the age of 45-years old, August 11, 1937.

His bond with St. Thomas was still so strong he was buried there.

          [i] Special thanks to the Wallace Family for sharing these news articles and photographs, the basis for this article.

[ii] The 18th Battalion Nominal Roll, April 1915, records John A. Wallace with the rank of corporal.

[iii] Possibly the 25th Elgin Regiment, St. Thomas, Ontario.

[iv] There is no record of a James Grant in the 18th Battalion April 1915 nominal roll. There is a recorded of a James Grant being a rejected volunteer. The LAC resource does not give enough information to make a definitive determination at this time.

[v] Lewis, George Frederick:  Service no. 53699 enlisted St. Thomas, Ontario November 2, 1914.

[vi] Green, Harry Arthur:  Service no. 53027 (Military Medal) enlisted St. Thomas, Ontario November 2, 1914. The attestation papers indicated London, Ontario but the Nominal Roll indicated St. Thomas.

[vii] Not found.

[viii] Beeson, James: Lieutenant enlisted November 4, 1914.

[ix] Haller, Bertram M.:  Service no. 54023 enlisted November 5, 1914 at St. Thomas, Ontario.

[x] Haller’s appears to be from Preston (now Cambridge), Ontario and, as stated in the news article, travelled to St. Thomas for a chance to enlist. Perhaps the allotment for Galt/Preston/Hespeler was full. My Grandfather, William Robb Dewar, reg. no. 53902, enlisted October 26, 1914 at Galt. It appears the goal to fill each town’s enlistment quota was to be done by the first week in November. The Kitchener Public Library index card for Bertram Haller indicates he enlisted in Preston and returned to Preston after this service.

[xi] It is estimated that this letter was written in the last week of May 1915. The 18th Battalion had arrived at West Sandling April 29, 1915 and had a rudimentary course of training. The War Diary for this month is not helpful here as it lacks detail.

[xii] Sergeant Wallace was born at Edinburgh, Scotland and listed his mother, Mrs. M. Wallace as living at 35 West Preston Street, Edinburgh, Scotland. It was quite common for soldiers from the Home Country to go on leaves to their families but it also caused a significant problem with soldiers from the 2nd Contingent going absent without leave (A.W.L.). The battalions and the Assistant Provost Marshall had to allocate a fair number of effort and resources to finding, collecting, charging, and punishing these men. For information see the Our Boys Were Certainly No Angels.

[xiii] This is possibly the 23rd Battalion, C.E.F. The soldiers of that battalion did reinforce the PPCLI with 125 men. Some would have been fresh soldiers and some may have been soldiers of the PPCLI that had convalesced and were fit for duty. It would make sense to affect a “train the trainer” strategy by sending soldiers who would be leading training drills to more experienced units for this training.

[xiv] The PPCLI was heavily engaged as recently as May 8, 1915 at Frezenberg. The battle resulted in 8 officers and 392 other ranks as casualties with 4 offices and 108 other ranks killed.

[xv] This may be a reference to the Canadian involvement in South Africa Boer War (1899 – 1902).

[xvi] See the 18th Battalion June 1915 War Diary for examples of training syllabus.

[xvii] The Battalion embarked for the Continent on September 14, 1915, a full 3 months after this letter was written.

[xviii] 6,000 replacements every three months were required as replacements during this part of the war.

[xix] Private Hugh Somerville was killed in action April 22, 1915.

[xx] Known also as the Battle of Mont Sorrel and the 2nd Battle of Ypres.

[xxi] The Battalion left for the Continent from Folkestone on September 14 arriving in Boulogne, France on September 15, 1915. The Battalion had been filling the trenches at Tolsford Hill in preparation for departure.

[xxii] This relates to the timing of the development of the Mills Bomb. The use of grenades for trench fighting was a key component of the weapons needed for the soldiers of the trenches. The bombs to which Sergeant Wallace is referring to are fused bombs that required a friction fuse or one that would be lit by a cigarette or another source of ignition. There is an example of the use of this type of grenade from the 18th Battalion was related in the 18th Battalion Medical Officer’s War Diary for October 3, 1915 in which he relates that Private Aikenhead, reg. no. 54160 was hit in the head when someone was testing a catapult to fire off bully beef tin grenades.

[xxiii] This name may be an error. There is no record of any soldier of that name being killed or dying of wounds during September or October 1915. However, Captain Ernest Walter Hallam of the 18th Battalion was killed in action on September 29, 1915. It is likely this soldier that is being referred to. He may have been known to the Ermatingers as he was the Manager of Continental Life Insurance Company in London, Ontario.

[xxiv] Wallaces service records have, as of the date of this article, not been digitized.

Apparently, it is an actual hell out there at times: The Letters of Sergeant Wallace A series of four news articles from the St. Thomas Times-Journal illuminates the career of John A.

[spaceagebachelormann]

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬

!!REQUEST REQUIREMENTS!!

-> state the character, romantic or platonic, the format of the request, and a plot

-> do you have any specifics for the reader? blonde, poc, male, neurodivergent, etc? (please keep in mind i will write poc readers but i’m white so they may be a little difficult for me)

-> requests are preferred to be sent through inbox, but i can make dms work if needed

-> PLEASE ACTUALLY SPECIFY WHAT YOU WANT WITH YOUR REQUEST!! ITS VERY HARD FOR ME TO WRITE “____ x reader fluff” GIVE ME A PLOT LINE

!!WHAT I WILL WRITE!!

-> platonic

-> romantic

-> familial

-> any gender x any gender

-> headcanons

-> long fics

-> multi character

-> blurbs

-> poly relationships

-> x reader

-> i will only write cheating if it’s a character comforting r after being cheated on, not a character cheating on r

!!WHAT I WONT WRITE!!

-> smut (i’m 15)

-> yandere

-> most aus, ask about the specific au before requesting an au

-> incest

-> age gaps

-> canonical gay/lesbian character x a man (if lesbian) or a woman (if gay)

-> song fics

-> things about ocs

-> ships

-> sunshine x grumpy tropes, i’m horrible at this trope

character list

keeper of the lost cities

sophie foster, dex dizznee, fitz vacker, keefe sencen, biana vacker, marella redek, maruca chebota, tam song, linh song, wylie endal, jensi babblos, stina heks, elwin hesledge

chronicles of narnia

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riordanverse

percy jackson, annabeth chase, grover underwood, jason grace, piper mclean, leo valdez, hazel levesque, frank zhang, nico di angelo, will solace, reyna arellano, rachel dare, travis stoll, connor stoll, thalia grace, magnus chase, alex fierro, carter kane, sadie kane

harry potter

harry potter, ron weasley, hermione granger, neville longbottom, luna lovegood, ginny weasley, fred weasley, george weasley, sirius black, james potter, remus lupin, mary macdonald, marlene mckinnon, lily evans, dorcas meadows, regulus black, barty crouch jr, narcissa black, andromeda black, bellatrix lestrange

ride the cyclone

ocean o’connell rosenberg, noel gruber, mischa bachinski, ricky potts, jane doe/penny lamb, constance blackwood

shadow and bone

alina starkov, malyen oretsev, genya safin, zoya nazyalensky, david kostyk, tamaar & tolya, nikolai lantsov

six of crows

kaz brekker, inej ghafa, jesper fahey, nina zenik, wylan van eck, matthias helvar

the outsiders

ponyboy curtis, johnny cade, sodapop curtis, darry curtis, steve randall, twobit matthews, dallas winston, cherry valance

the hunger games

katniss everdeen, peeta mellark, finnick odair, johanna mason, cinna, effie trinket

it (2017)

bill denbrough, eddie kaspbrak, richie tozier, stan uris, beverly marsh, ben hanscom, mike hanlon

the school for good and evil

agatha, sophie, tedros, hort, hester, anadil, dot, nicola, rhian mistral, rafal mistral, clarissa dovey, leonora lesso

the land of stories

connor bailey, alex bailey, red riding hood, jack, goldilocks

scooby doo

shaggy rogers, fred jones, daphne blake, velma dinkley, thorn, dusk, luna

little women

jo march, amy march, beth march, meg march, laurie

dracula

dracula, lucy westenra, arthur holmwood, john seward, mina harker, abraham van helsing, renfield, quincey morris, jonathan harker, the brides

frankenstein

victor frankenstein, elizabeth lavenza, henry clerval, adam frankenstein, justine mortiz, ernest frankenstein, the bride

dr jekyll and mr hyde

henry jekyll, edward hyde, richard enfield, gabriel utterson, hastie lanyon, lucy harris

phantom of the opera

christine daaé, erik destler, raoul de chagney, meg giry, carlotta giudicelli

a good girls guide to murder

pippa fitz-amobi, ravi singh, naomi ward, cara ward, connor reynolds, jamie reynolds, nat da silva

the mighty ducks

charlie conway, adam banks, lester averman, guy germaine, connie moreau, fulton reed, dean portman, julie gaffney, ken wu, luis mendoza, dwayne robertson

monster high

frankie stein, draculaura, clawdeen wolf, cleo de nile, abbey bominable, ghoulia yelps, operetta, rochelle goyle, spectra vondergeist, elissabat, clawd wolf, deuce gorgon, heath burns, jackson jekyll, holt hyde, kieran valentine

the powerpuff girls

blossom utonium, bubbles utonium, buttercup utonium, brick jojo, boomer jojo, butch jojo

david bowie

david bowie, ziggy stardust, jareth, thomas jerome newton, celliers

sweeney todd

sweeney todd, anthony hope, mrs lovett, johanna todd

the rosewood chronicles

lottie pumpkin, ellie wolf, jamie volk, ollie moreno, raphael wilcox, anastacia alcroft leblanc, saskia san martin, lola tomkins, mickey tomkins, binah fae

hairspray

corny collins, link larkin, amber von tussle, tracey turnblad, penny pingleton, seaweed j. stubbs

attack on titan

eren yeager, mikasa ackerman, armin arlert, jean kirstein, sasha braus, connie springer, annie leonhardt, bertholdt hoover, reiner braun, hange zoe, levi ackerman, erwin smith, colt grice, niccolo, yelena, onyakopon, zeke yeager

daisy jones and the six

daisy jones, billy dunne, graham dunne, karen sirko, warren rhodes, pete loving/roundtree, eddie loving/roundtree, camila dunne, simone jackson

doctor who bbc

ninth doctor, tenth doctor, eleventh doctor, twelfth doctor, rose tyler, jack harkness, mickey smith, donna noble, martha jones, clara oswald, river song, amy pond, rory williams, simm! master, missy/gomez master

miss peregrines home for peculiar children

jacob portman, emma bloom, millard nulling, enoch o’connor, olive elephanta, alma peregrine

good omens

crowley, aziraphale, ineffable husbands (poly), beelzebub <3, gabriel, ineffable bureaucracy (poly), nina, maggie, nina and maggie (poly), anathema

miscellaneous characters

sarah williams, bernard the elf, rodrick heffley, varian, lisa frankenstein, the creature (lisa frankenstein)

UPCOMING FANDOMS : what we do in the shadows, star trek, american horror story, torchwood, x-men, yellowjackets

[willowbleedsonpaper]

Ghost Of You (Part 2)

Draco Malfoy x Muggle!Reader

W.C. : 3000

Summary:  The war with Voldemort was over. Draco Malfoy was forced to flee for his life ending up in Muggle London where he met you, the muggle whose house he broke in looking for a place to hide. You agreed to let him hide in your house if he promised to let you live your life normally. How will your relationship work as time passes and you both realiz you’re no longer just partners in crime?

A/N: Here I am with the second part of Ghost Of You. I´m really happy that you are liking it so much. Please tell me what you think, I love readng your comments.  Happy Reading! <3

Shoot me an ask or something if you would like to be tagged!

Warnings: None

*Not my GIF. Credits to the creator*

The next morning you lay awake staring at the ceiling, your eyes following the slow movement of the fan. Did all of that really happened? The sound in the guest room next to yours gave you your answer. With a sigh you moved the covers getting out of bed just in time to stop your alarm, having waking up long before it sounded. 

You took a short shower, washing your teeth and doing quick work on your hair and work clothes. Just as you walked to your door your arm froze mid air, your grasp on the knob tight as footsteps sounded from the opposite side. A gulp formed in your throat, only being able to swallow it when his footsteps sounded far away going downstairs.

You followed his trail careful to not make a sound, curious as to why was he up so early and what he was doing, not like he had much to do in your house, his job was to hide. And then it hit you again, the panic you felt the day before. If he needed to hide was because someone was looking for him. 

The question was: Is he the guilty of the innocent? 

You made your way to the kitchen, as he seemed to like the kitchen, finding him sitting with a newspaper in hand. Where did he get that newspaper? You walked past him, going straight to get your coffee mug. “Morning” you said turning to him.

He lazily lifted his eyes from the page, a frown quickly setting in his forehead “Where are you going?” Draco asked you, closing the newspaper and carefully placing it on the table.

“To work” your gripped tighten around your bag on your shoulder, watching as his eyes hardened.

“You’re not going.” he stated, getting to his feet and blocking the kitchen entrance with his body. You mirrored his stance, crossing your arms over your body, squinting your eyes at him. “You forget I can make you do whatever I want.” he told you pulling, what you decided to refer to as his wand, out of nowhere.

“That’s not our deal, remember?” you said back “I can’t just miss work. I have to get the future of this planet ready!” you said completely serious, earning a scoff from him.

He rolled his eyes, turning in his place to pace around the kitchen “They’ll survive a few days without you, I’m sure there’s plenty of teachers around” he claimed.

A squeak of surprise left your mouth, capturing his attention as he turned his face to you “Excuse me, but I got that job for a reason,” you told him, voice higher as you grabbed your mug with determination “I am the only one capable of doing it.” 

As soon as the last word left your mouth you quickly turned on your heel, marching towards the back door through the washing room, missing the look of shock in his eyes at his completely unawareness of the existence of that way out. He shook himself out of the state of shock, grabbing his coat from where he had left it last night and ran out the front door. 

“What the hell are you doing?” you screamed as soon as the passenger door of your car was closed, he looked a little lost but said nothing and you huffed “You can’t come with me.” you said, seeing right through him at his true intentions.

“If you are so set in going to work I am going with you” he said coldly “I’m not risking you telling someone”

“I am not telling anyone!” you yelled, slamming your hands in the wheel in exasperation, accidently honking and making you jump in surprise. You hid your face in your arms, keeping in the groan at the pain from hitting your head. “I’m just going to work.” you muttered in defeat raising your head slightly, catching a glimpse of his amused face before it quickly turned dead once more. You straighten your back completely, glaring at him “Are you making fun of me?” you asked him angrily.

“No.” he said turning to face the front “Now drive before I force you to go inside again.” You didn’t fight him this time, opting to have him follow you like he was your tail than missing work. Maybe you could make something out of this.

You drove in complete silence, the radio low in the background. You stole a few glances at him, he looked tired. Even if he went to sleep early the bags under his eyes resembled the ones you saw on your students during the exam season. He rested his head on the window, his eyes dancing through all the places you passed by with a glint in them. 

You took a turn and parked just behind the school, cutting the engine off you turned your body completely to him “There will be guards there, someone could recognize you” he lifted his head from the window, only then realizing you had arrived at the school.

e“No one will recognize me” he told you, unfastening his seatbelt and getting out of the car. You groaned loudly, getting your bag from the backseat and running towards him.

“I’m sorry, are you forgetting you’re supposed to be hiding?” you hissed as you jogged to him, his long legs making it a little hard to keep up “If someone sees you they will go to the police.”

Not once did he turned to you, his eyes scanning the streets and always looking up front “I’m not concerned about the police” he simply said making you halt and look at him with wide eyes.

“What?” you whispered.

He stopped turning to you with a tilt of his head, he had a small grin in his face, sending shivers down your spine. He walked and stood right in front of you “It seems like your plan is not going to work” he said lowering his face to your ear “You see, your police won't even react at the sight of me” he whispered, straighten his posture and giving a small nod towards the school “Shall we?”

********************************************************************

You entered the school with him following close behind, too close to your liking.

Using the back door, you took the long way to get to your classroom, taking every deserted corridor you could. 

You had thought maybe he was careless, coming with you to a public school with other teachers that you knew for a fact watched the news, students with parents that worked as officers, guards that would have the police there with the press of a button. It was madness that he would have gone with you just like that. Now you understood why, and you wish you didn’t.

The only thing that made you relaxed a little was the fact that he was not  criminal, or at least not one looked by the the police. Which meant he was probably not going to hurt you. Probably. 

Unfortunately, that left you with more unanswered questions than you had before.

You opened the door to your classroom, not waiting to see if he was still behind you or if you lost him with how fast you were walking. But his arm towering over your head to hold the door open told you he was right there, still with you.

You unpacked your things, your face always down and avoidant of him. You heard him walk around, going through the seats and stopping a couple of times to watch the things you have up on your walls, quotes from books and a few things on basic grammar. 

“You teach literature.” he said. 

You didn’t know if he was asking you or or just talking out loud, so you stayed quiet turning your back on him and starting to write on the board about the subject of the day. 

“So you’re not talking, ” he said, closer than he was before and you turned. He sat on your desk, his hands resting in his lap as he stared intently at you. You held his gaze for a second before it was too intense to bare, turning again on him “I scared you, didn’t I?” he asked you and your hand froze. 

Where you that transparent? That easy to interpret? Or was he so clever that he could already read you like an open book? Not having knowing you for even 24 hours.

You shifted in your place, he had moved to stand right beside you and you couldn’t help yourself meeting his eyes with a shaky turn of your head. You tried to say something but no words came out.

He frowned taking a step towards you when the door opened, the wave of students inside their own heads never noticing the close stand you two had. Draco took a hesitant step back, going around you and taking your chair behind the desk. 

You let a shaky breath out, resting your head against the board.

“Miss Y/L/N?” someone called “Are you alright?” she asked you. You straighten your back, putting on a smile and turning to face her.

“Yes, Emma.” you answered “Just tired, that’s all.”

“Staying up late watching Friends again, Miss?” the entire class laughed, you chuckling softly as well, feeling the hot stare of Draco on you.

“You know me too wel.l” you said, going to the desk and picking up the papers “I have your tests here. I have to say, you really surprised me, even you Walter.” you said, meeting the boys eyes and realizing the focus had shifted from you.

“Who is the guest today?” asked one of the girls at the front of the class looking straight at Draco, oblivious to the extra attention. 

You turned to him, not even thinking of an excuse for him being there “Right,” you muttered, clearing your throat to catch his attention. He lifted his eyes to you, giving you a funny look before he turned to the front, the entire class attention on him “This is Harry… Enfield,” you beamed, forcing a smile as you saw the glare he gave you, dismissing him with the wave of your hand “Mr. Enfield is an old friend of mine from college.” you explained, getting a little nervous at the shift of the mood inside the room.

They looked excited, Emma almost launching herself from her sit “You knew Miss Y/L/N in college?!” she asked, their eyes growing in size as she looked expectant at him. 

You slowly turned, the calm look in his face making the pit in your stomach grow “He is not here for your thirst in my personal life.” you told them sternly, only for Walter to shoot his hand to the air. You were screwed.

“Miss Y/L/N,” he said, with a mischievous glint in his eyes “You told us at the beginning of the year that we could call Break Day for one day we wanted during the course.” he said smiling at you “Well, I call for Break Day.”

They all cheered, of course they would call Break Day to gossip about you. Those little devils. You cursed under your breath turning to Draco who had an amused look in his face and this time he stared right at you with a smirk. 

********************************************************************

The entire hour they make all kind of weird question and to your surprise, Draco answered each and every single one of them. He loved to be the center of attention, you noticed how he moved through the classroom with the confidence of the most popular boy in the school. He talked in front of them without the slightest doubt of the details he made up along the way and you didn’t know what should scare you the most: The embarrassing detailed stories he was sharing that will surely haunt you for the rest of your days at that school or his innate ability to come up with lies at the spot. 

What of what he had told you was true? Was his real name Draco? Did he mean it when he said he wasn’t going to hurt you?

You realized what a grave mistake you’ve made by letting him in into your work space when you saw the flash of his wand from underneath his sleeve, making your body tense. Could he force the entire class to do as he pleased like he did with you?  

“Okay guys, that’s enough.” you said, standing up. All faces turned to you, Draco’s included at your sudden interruption.

“But there’s still fifteen minutes left.” one girl said with hopeful eyes. You smiled at her, handing them their tests from your desk.

“I know, but I have to let you go a little early today.” you lied, watching their faces fall, sad mumbles filling the classroom “Mr. Enfield and me have to go somewhere else and it’s a long drive.” 

“Will you come back Mr. Enfield?” Emma asked and he stayed quiet.

“If he has the chance.” you said for him “Please, do the reading we were going to do here as homework.”

 They all reluctantly packed their stuff, saying their goodbyes to you and Draco as they walked out the door. You doing the same, closing the door behind you. “I have to sign some papers before I leave” you told him, pointing to the end of the hall avoiding his eyes. He nodded, following you with a safe distance between the two of you, which you appreciated.

“Hello Y/N!” greeted Sally, one of the secretaries in the school “You signing off for the day?” she said, handing you the book.

“Yeah” you said quietly, writing your signature and the hour “Any messages for me?” you asked softly.

“No, not today” she smiled to you, her eyes moving behind you “And who do we have here?” she asked smiling at him. You turned your head, forgetting for one second that he was standing right there.

“Oh” you muttered, facing Sally again “This is a friend of mine, Harry Enfield” you said, extending a hand for Draco to come closer. “Harry, Sally Eaton” you introduced her, both shaking hands.

“Pleasure to meet you” said Draco politely, looking at you “All done?”

You nodded, saying goodbye to Sally and walking out the front door. The entrance was filled with teenagers getting out of class or on their break. Many stares turning to you. You were probably the youngest teacher there, making you a little more easygoing with your students. Many said they considered you a friend and even if it was unprofessional to say it back you thinked the same way, but you could never say it out loud. 

That was the reason everyone was so interested in your life, they knew so little and were curious. So you walking out the school with an unknown man, a really handsome man, made them wonder who he was.  

And he noticed this to, the stares of so many people on him made him a little nervous. Who could assure him not one of them knew about the Wizarding World and would get word back to the Death Eaters looking for him? 

“Let's leave,” he murmured your way, holding your wrist in his hand “Now.”

“Okay.” you said, following his lead, that until someone called up your name.

“Professor!” you turned, hearing the low groan from Draco. Officer Forbes making his way to you with Emma right beside him “How are you today?” he asked you.

“Officer Forbes,” you said “I’m great, just about to go home” 

Emma tilted her head in confusion “Weren’t Mr. Enfield and you going somewhere?” asked Emma with a frown.

You opened your mouth, a dry chuckle leaving your mouth “Yes, I-uh  I left some documents back at my place” you lied making a funny face, making them laugh.

“I assume this gentleman is your boyfriend?” Officer Forbes said, looking at Draco, his grasp in your hand tightening.

“What?” you laughed, looking between him and Draco who had turned into a statue beside you.

“The boyfriend that surprised you last night?” he said, a suspicious look in his eyes. And then you remembered what Draco had ordered you to do, the soft whisper in your ear when you felt in a haze and didn’t even hesitate to say what he told you. You were sure if he had asked you to jump off a cliff you would have done so with a smile in your face.

The gasp from Emma pulled you and Draco from your confused state “You said he was a friend!” she squeaked, the most excited you had ever seen the girl. “Oh, wait until everyone knows you lie!” she said. 

Thankfully she was stopped by her father “Emma, that is none of your business,” he said sternly “There must be a reason she didn’t tell you.” he turned to you with an apologetic look “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

You smiled “It's alright” you told him “But we really need to go” you said, pulling Draco with you after saying goodbye to them.

Once in the car Draco sighed loudly in his seat, running a hand down his face. You started the car without a word not wanting to anger him any further, scared of what he would do if you even muttered a word.

You got to your house in no time, opening the door you didn’t wait for him to say anything. Making your way straight to your bedroom and locking the door behind you.

What had you gotten yourself into?

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