#she fr just went on her merry way

[jackstheprinceofhearts]

evangeline when jacks kept sending her those warnings:

[roosterscockpit]

Christmas Eve At Papa Mav’s | H.C

click here to see the master list

Merry Christmas Eve, my babes! I hope you all have a great holiday and be safe! I love you! ❤️ Happy reading and enjoy! 🎄❄️🎁🎅🏼☃️

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You and Bradley were sitting in the living area. The smell of gingerbread cookies filled the house. You were baking some to bring to Mav’s house. The only light was coming from all the Christmas decor around the house. It was quiet because Leia and Gunner were down for bed. 

Bradley’s Christmas playlist was playing, Jingle Bell Rock by Bobby Helms, was playing. Bradley was singing his own version of it to make you laugh, “Stroke on my, Lick on my, Suck on my cock.” He looked at you and looked at his cock. He wiggled his brows and chuckled. 

You shook your head, “Bradley Bradshaw we have a task at hand and we cannot be distracted.” You giggled and blushed. 

Bradley was throwing everything into bags. “Sweetheart, I can’t wrap for the life of me. Everything is going into a bag.” He picked up a mug you got for Mav that read “#1 Papa.” He looked at it and threw it into a bag.

You laughed as you wrapped a box of clothes for Amelia. “That’s okay, Brad. We need to have a variety of present anyways.” You tied a bow onto the wrapped gift and handed it to Bradley. He placed it in the present sac he bought. 

After wrapping their gifts, you and Bradley started to work on the ones for the squad. You all did secret Santa for each other. You had Coyote for your secret Santa and Bradley had Hangman. (Of course he did LOL)

You wrapped your gift for Coyote and Bradley struggled to wrap his for Hangman. You watched as he tried to figure out how to fold the paper. He had the tip of his tongue pressed against his top lip. His brows were furrowed and he was looking intensely at the wrapping paper. He tried to fold it a couple of ways and shook his head when it didn’t look right. He started to chew on his bottom lip. 

You giggled and bit your lip when you started to laugh a little too loud. He looked up at you raising his brows and pushing his lips together. he made eye contact with you and chuckled. “Have you been watching me struggle, baby?” 

You started to giggle more, “I have. Your concentration face is the cutest.” He laughed and shook his head, “You mean my frustration face? Baby, can you just wrap it for me? He is going to make fun of my wrapping.” He looked at you with his puppy dog eyes.

Instead you went over to him and showed him how to wrap the gift. the wrapping paper was super crinkled from all Bradley’s failed attempts. 

The next day, your little family got ready and loaded the car with all the gifts and goodies for Mav’s house. You wore a long sleeve burgundy velvet jumpsuit that had a cute bow on your stomach. Leia wore a black turtle neck with a burgundy velvet overall dress. Gunner had a burgundy velvet boy tie. Bradley wore black dress pants and a burgundy lose flowing velvet button up shirt. 

When you all arrived at Mav’s hangar it was all decorated. Outside was a welcome to the North Pole arch way. He had some lit up reindeers and a sleigh outside of the doors. When you all walked in there was a huge tree in the middle of his hangar. It was full of aviation decor. It was beautiful. There were lights hanging all over the hangar. His mustang was decorated with wreaths and garlands. There was a prop Santa and Snowman sitting in the seats of his plane. 

“Penny and Mav really out did it this year, Bradley.” You leaned into him and whispered. He chuckled, “Maybe they should host Christmas for everyone instead of us? Huh?” He laughed and looked around. 

Mav and Penny came out in matching ugly sweaters. They looked so cute. Leia ran to Mav. “PAPA! PENNY!” She crashed into them and smiled. “You both smell like gingerbread.” Mav laughed and patted her head, “We are making cookies, little Jedi.” 

Mav and Penny helped you and Bradley by taking some of the gifts from your hold. They placed them under the tree with all the other gifts. Mav called over Amelia and Leia. “Amelia, why don’t you give your present to Leia so she can put it up?” Mav smiled at her.

Amelia gave Leia a little bag. Leia smiled big as she opened it. Inside were ornaments. One was Princess Leia in a fighting stance with her light saber, another was a picture of you and Bradley when you were in university in a snowflake, an F-14 Tom Cat ornament, and a doggy paw frame with a picture of Leia and Gunner in it. Leia squealed.

“Do you want to put them on the tree, Leia?” Amelia smiled at Leia. Leia started to jump up and down as she nodded. You and Bradley watched as her and Amelia placed the ornaments onto Mav’s tree. 

Mav looked at the both of you and smiled, “So do you want to open presents now or later?” He looked at his watch. Leia screamed yes from across the hangar. Mav laughed, “I guess it is present time.” He winked at you and Bradley. Mav started to play some Christmas music while you all started to get ready for opening gifts. 

You started to hand out gifts to every one from you and Bradley. Bradley looked around the tree and looked for a gift he got for Mav. He found it and went over to Mav. “This is from me to you.” He smiled at Mav. Right before Mav could grab it Bradley held it above his head and started to laugh. “JUMP MAV!” Mav started to jump and tried to get out out of his hands. Bradley finally gave in.

Mav opened his gift. You all watched as he opened it. His expression went soft as he removed the tissue paper. It was a multiple frame collage. It had pictures of Goose and Mav together, Mav and Bradley when he was a kid, and pictures of Mav and Leia. On the bottom of the frame, “The world’s best Papa” was etched into it. Mav held it up and looked at all the pictures.  He got up and hugged Bradley. “This is the best thing I could ever get.” He cried and hugged Bradley.

Penny and Mav spoiled Leia for Christmas. They got her a battery powered Jeep she could drive around in, a battery powered jet she could drive around, Mav bought her her own aviators that had “Vapor” engraved on them, clothes, toys, and more lego sets that were Star Wars themed for her to build. 

After everyone opened their gifts, Mav looked over at you and Bradley. “I was really hoping for Christmas I was going to be opening a box that had a onesie in it.” You and Bradley looked at each other confused. “Can you guys just have more kids? I need more grandchildren I can spoil.” Mav laughed. 

Later on that night, you all made and decorated gingerbread houses together as Mav played The Santa Claus on a projector. 

Before the house could be finished, Bradley and Leia were eating it. By the end of it, you didn’t have a roof nor gingerbread people. Bradley grabbed the remaining frosting and tilted Leia’s head back. “Open up, Vapor girl!” He squished some into her mouth. He sucked the rest out of the packet. 

After the gingerbreads, there was no clean up. You all had eaten the gingerbread houses.

By the end of the night, Bradley was asleep on the couch with Leia asleep on his chest. He had his mouth slightly open and snoring. He had his arm wrapped around Leia and the other falling off the couch. You looked at your sleepy babies and smiled. You kissed both of them and threw a blanket over them. 

Mav came over and threw his arms around your shoulders, “One more gift.” He handed you one more little box. You looked at him and furrowed your brows. “Another gift for me?” You giggled. Mav nodded.

You opened the box it was a little gold locket necklace. On the front of it “Always in my heart” was engraved on it. When you opened it, one side was a picture of your mom and dad the other was a picture of Bradley and Leia. You gasped. “Mav…”

You looked at him and hugged him, “Thank you so much Mav. I love it so much.” He hugged you tight, “You’re welcome, sweetheart. Look at the back of it.” 

You closed the locket and turned the heart over. Engraved on the back, “We love you. - Mav and Penny” You held it close to your heart and a tear fell from your eye. 

“We are all always with you, y/n.” He smiled and rubbed your arms. “Merry Christmas, Sweetheart.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A little present for Christmas Eve, I hope you all enjoyed this little H.C at Mav’s hangar. Happy holidays! Muah! 🫶🏼 See you tomorrow for Christmas 🎁��❄️🥰

Santa’s little helpers are in the comments 🎅🏼

[chris-continues]

Carnival?

College AU Trigun- Carnival HC’S!

In which you and the gang go to a carnival :)

Vash/reader elements <3

TAGS: @h4venpha @lune010 @vashfantasy @macncherries

And thank you @cowboylivio for the help on this one!

This isn’t in school or anything but I figured because it’s modern au and they’re college student age and probably going to college it fit lol

-Vash loves funnel cakes. Probably prefers the OG plain powdered sugar

-Wolfwood likes chocolate syrup and powdered sugar

-Milly swears by the overly sugary strawberry jam and whipped cream

-in a rare moment of agreement, Meryl and Knives agree that they are way too sugary but Vash will insist they have a bite (they cave) (it’s still too sugary)

-Vash will do ridiculous poses on the merry go round/carousel and would love it if anyone posed with him. What do you mean there’s only one person per horse? :( it makes for a bunch of cute photos tho!!

-Vash gets a large frozen iced lemonade and Wolfwood and Nai separately warn him to not chug it all just because it’s hot out because he will get a brain freeze (guess who got a brain freeze) (him.)

-Nai kinda lags behind everyone else. He was dragged along by Vash in hopes for him to have fun, but this truly isn’t his scene.

-For the carnival games, Vash is good at the shooting but with his luck he ends up with a faulty gun. Nai bargains with the vendor to give Vash his prize

-Wolfwood and Vash have a bit of a friendly competition on who can win the most

-Milly gets lost and they find her in the livestock barns somehow inside the goat pens because she made a new friend

-Meryl berated her immediately- she was so worried! Ugh! >:( (she’s worried for her girlfriend- I mean roommate)

-Knives is the only one who can tear them away from the animal barns and it takes so so long

-Meryl has a messenger bag and she’s kinda sorta prepared? To be fair, nobody got much beforehand notice before they were just on the road and at the carnival itself lol. She has sunscreen that has to be repeatedly borrowed

-Oo also firm believer that whenever someone wants to break a 20 or smth she’s the person they go to

-you know that one carnival ride? Where you’re locked in a cage whatever and get tossed around for a good minute? Yeah Wolfwood and Vash in one of those. It’s the funniest shit ever

-Vash gets super dizzy LMAO

-he almost vomits up all the sugary shit he’s eaten 😭

-pat his back and ask him if he’s ok pls

-he’ll look up at you with weary eyes and give a thumbs up, “yeah! Fine..” (and then proceed to almost bump into Wolfwood while walking LMAO)

-Milly insists on trying a bunch of carnival food, some of her taste is really questionable (who wants deep fried lard??) but she’s just curious and if you indulge her in trying some of the greasiest oiliest food you’ve ever seen she’ll be very happy

-Nah but fr if Milly ran a food acc/food vlog she’d get so much hype bro <33

-Imagine going on the carousel with Vash OMG

-mutual pining goes crazy here like you’re laughing and taking photos (like earlier)

-Milly, Meryl and Wolfwood went to go try more food and Knives excused himself for some fresh air away from the noise and lights (it was getting overwhelming for him)

-he helps you onto the pony, hand brushing yours as you both grab onto the pole and chuckle. The music starts to play, harmonious and oddly nostalgic, lights beautiful amidst the darkening sky

-you peek at him, his orange lenses oddly fitting into the bright lights around you both. He’s got this small smile that blooms into a gushy, dorky grin that makes you almost freeze- his sandy blonde hair sways with the movement of the pony as he chuckles, almost falling off as he’s caught staring at you too

-but of course the ride ends, and your good friend Vash + yourself make it back to the rest of the gang and eventually go home

-You both think about that moment more than you’d like to admit.

[shaunamilfman]

RAAAGGGGHHHHHH WEREWOLF SHAUNAAAA

waking up to werewolf shauna my morning has been blessed. my woes of yesterday, gone with the wind. todays a GOOD DAY🙏

getting jealous of jackieeee my god what a loser🤭

WEREWOLF LOTTIE??? the sticker on her head😭😭

WHAT HAPPENED TO SHAUNAS FERAL CAT😿and did she just wrestle it off the street to take to yn as an excuse to finally ask her out on a date😭

big and strong butcher hunterrr😖😖😖ugh i need her so baddd

-🦈

shauna would so get jealous that you had your hands all over Jackie to bandage her leg as if shauna herself didn't bring her there lmao.

i just know that lottie would brag about the sticker for weeks. Shauna's falling over herself with jealousy when she sees it. Lottie just seems like she'd really enjoy a sticker from the doctors. I think Lottie would have a lot of anxiety about going to the doctor and I think even as a werewolf it would be a little obvious. Didn't get super into it but it was her sticker for being brave.

no i 100% believe shauna found it in the alleyway outside and just brought it in with her. She'd never met the cat before and she'd never meet him again she just sat his ass outside once you left. They went on their merry ways fr.

shauna's loser ass just couldn't find another way to meet you lmao.

big strong butcher hunter fr. always down bad for any version of Shauna

[enjomo-arch]

𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗠𝗘 𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗗 : ??? / @chatcambrioleur

give me thoughts about fire boy and fiery redhead 🍊🧡🔥

Ahhh  thought  on  the  firefly  couple  I  see

So  I  never  considered  Ace  and  Nami  to  be  a  good  pair  material  at  the  beginning  since  their  only  interactions  so  far  was  kinda,  well  on  Merry  when  Ace  just  looked  at  her  for  a  hot  second  SGFASFD  I  mean,  I'm  glad  I  got  to  explore  them  and  warm  up  to  their  relationship.  I  like  the  pace  we're  setting  things  up  and  the  way  both  Nami  and  Ace  grow  with  trust  towards  each  other,  talking  about  the  secrets  and  pain  they  went  through  like  they  know  they  can  just  let  each  other  hold  their  hearts  and  they'll  never  break.  Ace  finds  Nami  very  strong,  powerful  woman  who  can  stand  on  her  own  word,  on  a  hard  ground  and  he  admires  her  inteligence  and  navigator  skills  cause  Ace  also  is  a  good  navigator.  He  has  very  good  tracking  abilities  but  Nami  drawing  maps  by  herself  ?  He's  absolutely  amazed  how  many  qualities  she  has. Obviously  she's  also  very  beautiful  and  Ace  finds  her  insanely  attractive.

Despite  them  not  interacting  in  canon  that  much  they're  very  similar  in  so  many  ways.  Ace  doesn't  really  understand  romantic  attraction  at  first,  since  he  was  never  interested  in  falling  in  love  over  his  own  goal  to  reach  the  top  and  make  his  name  a  legend  and  then  he  was  focused  on  serving  as  the  division  commander  for  Whitebeard  and  taking  care  of  his  father,  wanting  to  make  him  a  King  and  also  Nami  is  pretty  inexperienced  so  them  having  the  patience  towards  each  other  and  mutually  exploring  their  romance,  feelings  and  sharing  them  is  very  heartwarming  for  me  to  see.  They  deserve  the  best  and  they  can  give  the  best  to  each  other.  They're  jus  so  scrunkly  in  love  fr

[light-yaers]

Fools in the Darkness: Chapter Three

Darkling x Reader

Warnings: Death, violence, drugs (Parem), NSFW and sexual content. This content is explicit and 18+ at some points.

A/N: I keep saying to expect a slow down soon and I MEAN IT. I can’t sustain this any longer and to be honest, be ready for fic writing to come to a halt for a few weeks time in the next months-- I have a university dissertation to be writing, but instead I’m doing this! PRIORITIES. Thank you all for reading, fr.

Fic Masterpost

Word Count - 3.6k

Chapter Three

“I thought he was a respectable General,” Inej whispered, finishing the last of her whiskey with a small frown.

“He plays the role well,” You replied sadly, before looking at Brekker. He was deep in thought, a scowl constantly present on his thin lips. “I’m only one person who knows the truth,”

“Then why tell us?” Kaz spoke suddenly. “Why share this with people you’ve just met?”

You took a moment to ponder your reply. Why were you telling the lackies at the Crow Club? The Dregs of the Barrel? Kaz Brekker and his band of un-merry men and women? Growing up in Kerch meant you already knew their names, despite not living in the country for most of your adult life. News travelled fast, especially when it concerned Ketterdam.

Maybe it was intentional that Inej found you that night, wandering the lush establishments at Fifth Harbour and riling up bouncers because of your appearance and obvious lack of kruge—or maybe it’d been fate.

“Why do you believe it?” You asked in return. “Why do you believe the word of a woman you’ve just met?” Kaz’s jaw clenched in response. He looked down at his desk, probably beating himself up over his prior question, even though it was a good one.

“Your Kefta,” Inej spoke up softly. “From afar, it looks like common dress, but up close, behind the mud and dirt, you can see the intricate embroidery,” She raised her tiny hands to your Kefta, placing her fingers on the stitched details—the winding winds of a Squaller, white threads against a deep black.

“You said you weren’t Second Army,” Kaz spoke up once more. “Yet you were in the Little Palace, being trained by the Darkling himself,”

“I never went on an army mission in the many months I was at the Little Palace,” You replied. “I was grateful at first, until I realised it was simply another way for me to eventually trust Kirigan, to worry about him,” Inej frowned at you then, showing you large and caring eyes. Kaz, however—he looked pained.

“But, what about—,”

“Do you wish for me to continue, Mr. Brekker?” You interrupted him, hearing the want and confusion in his voice. He swallowed down his words, forcing his gaze onto your eyes. He nodded once. You smiled slightly, readying yourself. “My sister’s funeral was held two days later...”

The Little Palace, 1 Year Later

The flames licked at her skin at first, until she was a light—bright, a star, burning so ferociously in a way that mimicked her personality when she was alive. Your sister, your last remaining family, the last love of your life.

She was burning. And there was nothing you could do but watch.

The funeral was a silent and small affair, but you hadn’t expected it to be anything more. If you were still out in the cold, harshness of Fjerda, it would have been even smaller than the reception she had at the Little Palace—

You stood on your own, closer to her burning flames. Behind you stood two Inferni; twins, a brother and sister. They looked at your sister solemnly, despite not knowing you or her. Maybe they felt your pain. Maybe they didn’t want to ever feel your pain. Beyond them stood the Heartrender, Ivan, the one who’d put you into a death state two days prior. And finally, behind him—

General Kirigan of the Second Army.

He donned his Kefta today; a menacing black and grey that only emphasised the broadness of his shoulders. His hands were clasped in front of him, his expression blunt and eyes reflecting the raging flames of your sister’s pyre. As much as you didn’t trust him, refused to trust him, he’d put all of this together.

He’d brought her back from those frozen wastelands. He’d arranged for her body to be cleaned and donned with lavish silks. He’d gathered the Inferni to light her pyre, after you’d denied wanting to light it yourself with a torch.

You stayed perfectly still as you watched her burn, too afraid that moving would only cause you to fully break down. You didn’t want that; you didn’t want another reason for those here to look at you oddly. Kirigan strolled forward then, slowly, gently, as you stayed facing the pyre.

“Let us leave you, now,” He whispered into your ear, so close it made you shiver. You nodded once, but not at him; at your sister. Slowly, one by one, the Grisha left you and your sister, until you were completely alone.

You don’t know how long you stayed out in that acre for, watching the acrid smoke rise into the air and the flames begin to die down, searching for her face within piles of ashes.

It was hours, most likely. The sun had been high in the sky when the pyre was lit, but now it was descending down, down, down the horizon, casting a pink glow over the lavishness of the Little Palace grounds.

And then, the fire went out.

The flames dissipated into nothing more than black smoke.

Then, it seemed almost pointless to stay standing there, frozen like a statue and looking at the last remaining substances of who your sister was. You glanced up at the sky for the first time in hours, indulging in the glorious sunset on the last eve of your sister’s presence on this Earth.

You kissed two of your fingers, placing them above the once flaming pyre. It was still incredibly hot, her ashes retaining the heat of the fire. And then, you left. You didn’t cry, you didn’t collapse, you simply walked back to the Little Palace, entered through the main doors, and then stopped—

And when you stopped, you almost couldn’t take it. You almost couldn’t stand the quiet, the air, the feeling of eyes watching you wherever you went, so close to falling to the ground where you stood and just giving up—

General Kirigan’s door clicked open as you stared at the floor. He rounded the corner of the frame, landing his eyes upon your slumped shoulders and laboured breaths. He took a few timid steps forward, but you hadn’t even noticed him yet, not until he cleared his throat.

You flinched immediately, hitting his eyes as a spike of anxiety was rammed through your heart. He’d scared you, and it seemed he knew he had. He frowned at your reaction, stepping forward once more. “It was a beautiful ceremony,”

You didn’t know what to say to him, nor did you have the energy or will to want to speak to the Darkling that stood before you. But there was a part of you that was grateful for his words—for his company amongst the winding corridors and scowling faces of the Grisha here at the Little Palace.

The only thing you were holding onto was Kirigan’s earlier promise.

“Tea?” He spoke again, this time prompting you to scoff involuntarily. You looked at him with an odd expression, one that was trying to work out his motives. From the small glimpses you’d got of Kirigan around other Grisha, you knew it wasn’t customary for the General to share tea with them.

“I could go for something stronger,” You said breathily, though you weren’t being entirely serious. Kirigan didn’t seem to get your joke, however, as he gestured to his chambers.

“Will Ravkan rum suffice?”

You’d lost count at the fifth, or maybe it was the sixth, but it was easy to just keep topping up your glass when Kirigan placed the bottle on the table between you. Sometimes it was him refilling the glasses and sometimes it was you, but neither of you particularly cared.

You were on the brink of being too drunk to stand, too drunk to know what you were saying, but perhaps—too drunk to care. It was the perfect relaxation tactic after the funeral. You’d almost needed this, even if General Kirigan wasn’t the person you’d imagined being sat opposite you.

“Where do you go all day?” You asked, your words not yet slurring, but getting close. “A few Grisha have said it’s unusual for you to attend training,” He smiled at your question, tapping his rum glass.

You’d had one day of training so far, put on hold for the funeral today. Kirigan had attended, but it’d been obvious that other Grisha were on edge by his presence. All except one—a Sqauller like yourself, by the name of Zoya.

“I don’t just oversee training. I’m in charge of many aspects of the army. Tactics, movements, squadrons,” He sipped his drink. “But you already know my reasoning for wanting to shadow your training,”

You nodded once, humming to yourself without realising. You looked at your hands then, twisting them out in front of you and pinpointing the various lines and indents, the length of your fingers, the curve of your nails.

“You didn’t wear your Kefta today,” Kirigan said, almost in a whisper. You flicked your gaze to his eyes. You’d woken that morning to a knock upon your door—a guard had handed you the intricately designed blue Kefta and then left, leaving you almost speechless.

You’d decided against wearing it, however, sticking to your usual clothes of a blouse and woven trousers, kept up with braces.

“I don’t feel like a Squaller yet,” You replied. “Not a proper one,” It was sad, the way that Kirigan looked at you. It almost made you move your gaze away from his deep eyes, but you couldn’t make yourself do it after alcohol was swimming in your system.

“It’s the blue, isn’t it?” He said, and the smile on his lips was an indication of his joke. You reciprocated his expression, feeling a small bubble of giggles in your gut.

“The blue is lovely,” You replied sarcastically, causing a laugh to burst from the General’s lips. You didn’t realise this man could laugh, could chuckle, could—well—feel.

A comfortable silence fluttered over Kirigan’s chambers. This was the second time you’d been in his room. His décor was so much different than the cream and gold walls of the Little Palace itself; with all dark wood furniture and stained walls. In the centre of his office sat a large circular table, topped with a map of the countries. In the middle—the Fold was indicated with an intricate wooden structure, painted a matte black.

You fluttered your eyes around the room, taking everything in. You inhaled, smelling the wooden scent of the furniture and the musty leather of the chair you sat in, mixed with something sweet that resembled an aftershave. You stared at the paintings and skimmed over his trinkets. Everything seemed to suit him perfectly.

When you turned back, the General was already looking at you.

“I’ll commission you a different Kefta design,” He said it so smoothly that you were reminded of the annoyance it had given you before, but with rum running through your veins all you felt was relaxed. “One that’s more suited to you,”

“You don’t have to do that,” You replied, feeling small under his colossal gaze. He smiled at your reddening cheeks.

“A glorious Kefta for a glorious storm summoner,”

Saints, the way he looked at you was almost too much. His eyes skimmed your skin, traversing your jaw, your nose, your lips, before falling back to your wide eyes. He was regarding you openly and you weren’t looking away—you were taking it full on, perhaps spurring him on to continue.

This was just the rum, it had to be. This wasn’t the General Kirigan you’d ever imagined.

Saints, stop.

“I should go,” You said then, rising yourself from the leather armchair. Kirigan copied you, exhaling at the same time he dragged his eyes off of you.

Your goodbye was as unceremonious as the walk back to your chambers. You staggered a few times, needing to clutch onto the spiral staircase for dear life, but by the time you were back at your room, you were ready to fall asleep immediately.

You lay in bed, your eyelids prepped for immediate rest, but your mind wouldn’t be quiet. In fact, it was yelling at you—screaming, crying, pelting you with warnings—

Stay away from General Kirigan. Do not indulge him.

All you could was laugh at your cautious mind, telling it that it was overreacting, before you were drifting off into much needed sleep.

You still didn’t don the Kefta the next day, sliding down to the training courtyard silently, as if hoping that no one would notice you being there. It was useless to want that, however, considering you were a face that Grisha here didn’t recognise, dressed in clothes instead of your respective Kefta.

You stood to the side while everyone gathered, chatting away before the instructor came forward. “Hand to hand combat is just as important as your abilities,” He said bluntly, flicking his eyes around the colourful group. “We’ll focus on that today. On strengthening your hits, your blocks, your stances,”

You almost smiled to yourself—you knew hand to hand combat. Very well, if you said so yourself. Growing up in Novyi Zem, defenceless and out in the open, you’d adapted quickly to being stealthy, as well as having a mean hit. Hand to hand was something you knew better than your own Grisha abilities.

“Get in pairs,” He continued, and that’s when your face dropped. You glanced around helplessly when everyone started pairing off, giggling and chatting and knowing each other after so long. You felt like a sore thumb; someone who wasn’t wanted.

Suddenly, she bombarded before you—Zoya Nazyalensky. She’d made herself known on your first day, most notably with her dirty looks and the scowl on her jaw, but now? She was beaming, smiling so wide and happily that you almost didn’t recognise her. She gripped your bicep excitedly. “Let’s pair up together, two Squaller’s against the World,”

You had a feeling Zoya wasn’t usually this chipper, but you had no choice but to accept her as your partner.

“Zoya,” The instructor prompted. “You and your partner, front and centre,”

Oh. So, that’s what she wanted.

There was no way to back out now, as Zoya dragged you to the centre of the courtyard. She removed herself to stand opposite you, and that’s when her face changed—back to the dirty looks she’d given you before, the obvious dislike and want to crush you just for funzies. You got the feeling that Zoya felt she was the only Squaller worthy for the Little Palace.

You simply had to prove yourself, then, in front of the other Grisha.

“Fight to defend yourselves, not to attack,” The instructor said, his eyes mostly on Zoya. She dipped into a stance and you followed suit.

Saints, please make this fight the least amount of humiliating that it needs to be.

Within seconds, she was moving. Her first swung through the air swiftly, but you jutted your elbow up to stop her forearm, whacking back with all of your force. Zoya gasped from the interruption, but it allowed you to jab your knuckles into her ribs.

You punched forward, hitting her right in her ribs and causing her to stagger back slightly from the hit. Her brows only furrowed more as you continued your back and forth, a hit—a block—a stance—a hit—a block—it was endless and incredibly draining, but the more you fought, the more Zoya became frustrated.

She’d been wanting a quick fight; something to show that she was superior. Little had she known that you were a fighter, more so with your fists than the winds.

You stepped back to the edge of the circle, breathing deeply, arms out in front of you ready to block her hits. Your hair was in your eyeline, the braces of your trousers slipping from your shoulders, but you wouldn’t stop for a second to pull them back up.

Zoya’s cheeks were blotched with colour, her mouth ajar as she inhaled and exhaled deep, long breaths, trying to get oxygen back into her system. You could see the anger creeping onto her face with every second that passed. You were reluctant to storm forward to hit her, knowing that that would give her the blocking advantage, so you stayed put, counting down the seconds until you’d be free of this pointless and embarrassing fight.

At that second, the doors to the Little Palace were pulled open. Zoya and yourself took a few seconds to peer towards the creaking doors, as General Kirigan strolled towards the training session strongly, with a purpose, no hint of a hangover on his stubborn jaw.

Zoya’s face upturned into a smile at his arrival, but you were a few seconds too late at returning to the fight. Zoya’s hands were brought together immediately, summoning her power as you were helplessly bombarded backwards by winds—

You landed on your back with a thud, hearing the subtle laughs and chuckles of the observing Grisha. You didn’t care though; if you cared about every small battle, every time you fell, then you would have died of humiliation by now. You simply got yourself up again, glancing upon the questioning face of Kirigan as he stared at Zoya—

Then you brought your hands together—

And you summoned the storms that you were used to summoning. Maybe it was overkill, as the entire courtyard was encased in circling winds, or maybe it was needed, just to get Grisha like Zoya off of your fucking back. You spurred the winds on, tightening the funnel and tensing your muscles to keep it contained, even if it was large.

Zoya’s hair whipped around her as she watched your storm appear from nothing. Her eyes landed upon your own, sending you a clear and precise message—fear. She’d never seen a storm such a this, not even by her own hand.

“How?” She yelled, frustration laced within her words. But, you weren’t done with her yet.

You attempted a move you’d never done before, summoning the winds to your hands instead of the surrounding courtyard—you struggled against their power, but when you felt confident in your aim and execution, you let them loose.

Winds rushed forward, hitting Zoya directly in her gut and slamming her backwards; just as she’d done to you. She hit the floor harshly, laying there for a few moments as she fought against her winded lungs.

You allowed your storm to dissipate then, flicking your eyes over the shocked faces of the other Grisha, before allowing yourself to land upon the face of General Kirigan—

He was already staring at you, the way he’d done the night before. His lips were curled into a small smile, his eyes peering into yours and only yours, as if he didn’t care about the ruckus that you’d just created during the training session. He looked just as speechless as your fellow Grisha, but with a higher level of understanding and appreciation—

He looked like he’d never tire from seeing you summon these storms.

Zoya curled herself up from the floor painfully, grunting through the discomfort as she forced herself to standing once more. She went to storm forward, her face twisted with red rage, but the instructor came between her and yourself.

“Enough,” He said, eyes skimming over the prying gaze of the General.

“Do that again and I’ll send you above the cloud-line without a parachute,” Zoya threatened openly, but you couldn’t help but smile.

“I don’t think Squaller threats work on other Squallers,” You replied, gaining a few scoffs and huffs from the Grisha who surrounded you. You weren’t expecting one of them to be Kirigan, however, as his gently bobbing chest hit your peripheral. He was silently chuckling, moving his gaze between yourself and Zoya like a tennis match.

Zoya was wounded, that much was obvious. You would have felt bad if she hadn’t effectively asked for it. She’d been looking for a fight, and that’s exactly what she’d got—it wasn’t your fault that you fought better than she thought you would.

Kirigan regarded you then, getting your attention by raising his hand out before him. He motioned you over with two curling fingers. You shot a look at Zoya and the instructor once, before obeying the General’s orders. He tilted his head down as you approached him, keeping his expression light and soft.

“I see you’ve met Zoya,” He said, amusement certainly on his lips. You stared at him bluntly.

“We’re the best of friends. Can’t you tell?” You replied, but you kept your voice quieter. You were all too aware of the prying eyes of the Grisha in the courtyard, muttering to each other as to why the General had made another appearance at training.

He smiled wider, glancing back at the Squaller and then back to you, letting out a small huff of laughter. You were once again astounded that this man could laugh; every time he chuckled or the bob of his shoulders was shown, you found yourself paying too much attention to the boyish way he sounded, the soft curve of his jaw as he was smiling, the carefree way his hands flinched as he chuckled.

“Can you ride?” He asked then, changing the subject. You nodded at him once. “Good. We ride tomorrow, together. I want to show you something,”  

He strolled off then, without giving you a chance to reply. You watched as his arms draped by his sides and his broad shoulders were even broader as they arched across his back. You swallowed to cut off your thoughts, choosing to focus too closely on the sound of your heartbeat beneath your ribs and the subtle ache of your limbs after fighting Zoya, instead.

You watched until the General was back inside the Little Palace, the black glint of his uniform still etched in your peripheral— even when he wasn’t around.

Tag list: @callitdreamland @bxnnywxtts @elleatrixlestrange @stargirl76 @tartiflvtte @musicconversedance @eprilin @luminous-99 @brynthebulldozer @katedrexel @blackbirddaredevil23 @auggie2000 @not-so-quite-human @notawritergettingtherethough @thinkingth0ts @gabbien @tarkanelima-blog @hxgreeves @super-nannai @epistrofh-twn-ypogeiwn-poihtwn @sonnensplitter @fire-in-her-veinz​

Once again, I’m sorry if your tag doesn’t work-- I really don’t know why they don’t work!

[hannah-the-red-head]

A Third Submission to the Imagines Society”

(League of villains meets an Autistic child with a quirk that is the definition of too good for this world and then some)

You were a tiny thing when Twice, Toga and Magne stumbled across you at the park, staring intently at what looked like your shoes with your back turned.

Magne summarized that you were most likely around 5 or 6 years old based on the kindergarten uniform you wore, the adorable hat hanging on your back while your (h/l), (h/s) (h/c) was out and about. Usually, the tree would lose interest after a while and go about their merry way.

But there was something about you that made them stay, Toga’s curiosity getting the best of her as she skipped over to where you were on your knees, she then peeked over a shoulder to see you staring in awe at butterfly that was softly moving it’s wings while resting on the petals of a blossom planted in the nearby garden.

It was one that she had never seen before, well at least in real life, but the sandy blonde remembered that she had once seen it on the internet somewhere.

It was a monarch butterfly, and last she or anyone else knew, the species were hanging by a thread and close to extinction over the last 56 years. She had admit that the pictures were close to nothing compared to the real thing as Toga watched with starry eyes at how the orange colors splashed with black and white glowed in the sunlight.

Magne herself, followed by Twice then decided to follow toga’s lead when she began to giggle like an actual schoolgirl instead of the blood obsessed vampire they knew and loved. The two peeking at the sight of both you and Toga being the surprising perches of a collection of what looked to be more Monarch butterflies that seemingly appeared out of no where.

And one of them was perched right on the tip of Toga’s nose.

Meanwhile, you had taken notice that you had a butterfly watching buddy the second you felt her crouched down next to you, your glowing (e/c) eyes staring at her with curiosity before deciding that she was interesting enough for you to deem her harmless, despite not knowing the truth.

Because in your young and innocent head, anyone that appreciated butterflies as much as you did was a good person and/or possible friend in your book.

She looked at you when she felt your eyes on her and gave you a big smile, which from what you learned meant that she was happy. So that meant that she likes you too. You smiled widely back and a series of bright rainbow colored balls of light lifted themselves off your little form, your quirk creating more butterflies from them while your new friend’s eyes sparkled.

Your quirk was called Wonder, the specialist who gave it that name having been inspired by the same emotion felt after witnessing you use your quirk at first hand to bring a rat back to life after it had been killed by a mousetrap, and later on when they returned back to the room to see that it had been filled with butterflies flying beautifully above them.

Nowadays, you mainly used your quirk to create butterflies.

Why?

Because butterflies made you happy, they made you calm, they took your worries away... and watching them was akin to what your therapist at the orphanage called stimming, your hand movements if you easily became overwhelmed resembling a butterfly flapping it’s delicate wings.

You were also fond of anything that felt like the texture closest to what you thought butterfly wings looked. However, this obsession was also the reason why your were ostracized by the other children, ignored completely by them at the worst despite how hard the workers at the orphanage tried to explain what your condition was.

You didn’t understand why the workers had the need to get the other kids to like you, if you wanted friends, you’d get some yourself on your own.

And you never understood why you had to take speech therapy, wasn’t writing in your notebook enough? You hated loud noises, they scared away things, things that are... nice.

Things like butterflies and rats and rabbits and deer, which meant that you couldn’t appreciate them anymore if they left.

So, why was there a need to make noise or let alone talk? You could never control how loud your voice was anyways. You didn’t care about how sometimes you overheard the caretakers at the orphanage whispered things about how alien you acted.

Which led to where you were now, little you having completely forgotten that you were separated from the other children heading back towards the orphanage after school had finished when you eyes spotted a flower that looked familiar until your quirk manifested the butterfly.

They sounded as if you were broken as a human.

When in reality you weren’t, you weren’t broken and needed to be fixed. At first it made you believe those words, but the moments where your eyes caught onto anything relating to those paper thin wings that radiated with the colors of the rainbow, you’re mind went to an alternate world where those who spoke about your strangeness were nonexistent.

It was then that you remembered seeing the same flower from the picture book at your school, the pink and green flora being the type of chosen roost for the orange, white and black insect to rest on if they got tired.

You never knew how much time passed when you felt your new friend’s presence near you until you turned around silently to see a schoolgirl older than your smiling peacefully at your creation, who then smiled at you.

Smiles meant something good, right?

Your quirk activated instinctually, your subconscious telling you to make your friend happy again by creating more things that made her happy, like how butterflies made you happy. You watched as the manifested insects flew over to the girl and rested on her shoulders, two nestled on the wild hair of her twin buns and one on her nose, the sensation of it’s delicate wings tickling her skin bringing a giggle out of her.

You copied her, giggling as well as you knew that laughing is what friends did. The exchange between you two led to a pair of others appearing behind your friend, the both of them watching in awe at how gentle you were.

Meanwhile in their perspective, Twice and big sis Magne were in awe.

This was a side of Toga that the pair had never seen before, so their interest in you grew steadily as they approached you both, seeing that the number of butterflies had grown the closer the became, the same orbs of light appearing to change into other species before the skies above the park had clouds of multicolored wings flying above like a piece of artwork created by nature.

It felt like a blessing to witness a sight like this, a much desired peace accomplished after so many months of being on the run from heroes and the police.

Twice jumped up and began to comically twirl about among the flocks of winged bugs, his splitting personalities having been silenced by the Nirvana he felt surrounding him, only stopping when he heard a few giggles left your mouth while you tried to keep up with him and Toga’s free styling dances without a care in the world.

The four of you not caring that you were getting strange looks and even scowls from those who crossed your paths in order to get a better look at the butterflies conjured by your beautiful quirk.

By the time the sun had set, you and your new friends had collapsed onto the grass, laughing in between breaths from all the fun you shared in those hours of innocent fun.

And you were the one to give that sense of childhood purity of fun back to them without realizing it. In your mind, you were happy that you had finally made friends by yourself as with a kick of your short legs you sat up and turned to the one closest to you, a tall woman with sunglasses and short hair the other two called “Big Sis Mag”.

You poked her cheek and she turned her face towards yours. Taking a deep breath, you decided to try something new that you hadn’t done or were comfortable with.

You: (Yy...yourrr n....nnamme!).... (Your Name)!

It was hard at first, being silent for most of your childhood being the reason as to why you sounded like a newborn attempting to say their first word. But the pride you felt as you pointed to yourself when you said your name clearly on the second try was amazing.

“Big Sis’” eyebrows shot up in surprise, and you understood why she was shocked as the only noises you made were giggles and squeals.

You: (Your name)!.... B-big sissy... Mmmmmag! Fr...friends! T-t-too...Toga! Fri..ends! Twi...Twice! Friends!

All three had unknown expressions present while you gave them a wide toothy grin that you had never given anyone except for your mama.

Twice: I think I’m gonna cry.... No, I’m not! Grow a pair!

Twice cartoonishly wept through his mask, tears that would only exist within an Animé pouring from the eyes of his black and grey mask before stopping almost immediately, his face changing to that of a stoic man drawn in comic books.

Toga just smiled at Twice, before a weak tug on her cardigan pulled her attentions to you, your arms held out wide and with an excited glow to you. You always remembered the warmth your mother’s hugs were growing up, how safe and loved you felt when your adorable self tackled her leg in a weak koala hug before she pulled you into her own arms.

Toga: Oh does (y/n)-chan want a hug?

You nodded and tackled the blonde, arms wrapped around her neck with you cheek pressed against hers, something your mother called “cuddle bumps” as you hated it when someone kissed you.

You: C-cu-cuddle bu-bumps!

Twice: I want cuddle bumps! No, I don’t that’s weird!

You nuzzled your cheek against hers, the teenage girl internally squealing and hugging you back as she was overcome with a sense of some maternal need to protect you and the light your little self emanated, both figuratively and literally as your quirk caused you to glow a warm pink color.

Toga playfully stuck out her tongue towards him, when an idea came to her.

—————

Shigaraki: And the most logical thing that you could ever think of in that moment.... was to bring this brat home?!

Toga’s cheeks puffed up as she hugged your little form from behind while you fiddled with your quirk, a manifested butterfly perched in the palm of your hand. You loved the feeling of your big sister’s soft cardigan as she hugged you.

Toga: Of course, Shiggy! I mean they’re an orphan left behind by those “caretakers”, we even waited to see if anyone would come looking.

Twice: Yeah, it was so nerve wracking! I was bored beyond belief....

Shigaraki let out an aggravated sigh, knowing that you had wormed your way into the hearts of the most in the league, Dabi being the first to cave when you used your quirk to soothe the pain in his burnt skin. He didn’t know why, but the fire quirk user’s eyes softened when you gazed up at his skin and your smile faded, a look of genuine worry that he possibly never experienced in some time as your tiny hand went up to hold his hand with the both of yours.

The rest of the already shocked league watching as an aura glowed from your small form, the glow then moving up your arms and finally covering Dabi in the glow before then pulling away into orbs that popped like soap bubbles filled with fireflies.

Dabi reacted in a way that not even he could describe as all the unbearable burning pain his scars brought him disappeared, a strange surge of.... calm washed over him.

It was the kind of calm that one would feel when a powerful storm dissipates, allowing the warm sun to bathe the earth once again. 

And it was the type of calm that brought a heavy exhale out of Dabi, almost as if he had finally learned to breathe, tears falling down his cheeks and startling him, a hand shooting up to touch his wet face and pulling it away to see what was falling from his eyes.

This... made the tears fall harder.

Dabi had long forgotten what it felt like to cry actual salt water tears instead of blood. A relieved upwards tilt pulled at his lips as he fell to his knees before you, no words exchanged, just glances and a gentle grip of your joined hands.

You: No pain?

Your concern overweighed your struggling speech, your free hand raising up to hover next to his cheek. He chuckled softly, allowing you to place your hands onto his face.

Dabi: No pain. All better.

Your quirk was befitting for such a gentle, caring and kind being as you.

To put it simply, you could restore a person’s injuries, negative outlook on life due to traumatic experiences, and even their lost sense of morality via through your touch, being in your presence, or even by witnessing your creations first hand.

This was your power, a quirk that purified the evil living within this cruel world.

You could literally restore a person or persons lost sense of morality, your quirk changing a sociopathic killer into a saint seeking redemption just by spending an hour with you. 

Your quirk also allowed you to heal any kind of wound or cure any illness, it could even replace missing limbs and the like as long as you kept your focus.

And it was meant to be protected.

Which is why you were taken into the protection of the league of villains, the only group of people who were the first to actually care for you after your mama’s passing, and didn’t speak badly of you or your condition.

Because they didn’t mind that you were autistic, they didn’t see you as broken or wrong. How did you know that they didn’t ostracize you?

They told you.

Twice: You, broken? Ha, that’s fresh! At least you don’t have more than one voice in your head...

Toga: My quirk needs me to drink the blood of the person i’m going to transform into in order for it to work, and because of that, I was pushed away by everyone for how creepy it made me look.

Magne: Anyone would be proud to call you their kid with a drop of a hat. So what if your special needs, it doesn’t make you any less human, sweetie.

Dabi didn’t say anything when you asked, in your broken speech, if you were broken. Instead, he just ruffled your hair and let you wear his jacket all day.

Compress: This world is filled with imperfections, but who is to say that imperfections are ugly and unwanted. To me, imperfections are where true beauty lies as it shows that despite their flaws, they try again and again to make themselves better.

Spinner: Kid, I am a walking talking lizard with pink hair and a desire to follow Stain’s path to create a society where only those who embody the traits of true heroes like All Might are allowed to become heroes.

You didn’t know how to react as he continued.

Spinner: If anything, you are the most normal out of all of us, so don’t go hating on yourself because you’re brain is wired differently. You’re perfect just the way you are.

Magne: Aww, that’s so sweet of you to say, Spinner!

Spinner: BIG SIS MAGNE?!?! HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN THERE?!

Toga: Enough to know that you give the best pep talks!~

[harrysweasleys]

Put A Ring On It

Synopsis: Spending Christmas at the burrow with Fred Weasley.

Warnings: none (maybe a lil bit of language?)

Word Count: 3,463

A/N: quarantine’s got me re-reading the harry potter series so my ideas are flowing right now and its great. also this was supposed to be a short blurb but it ended up being much longer than that. enjoy!

-

Fred knew what he wanted to get Y/N the day that he asked her to come join his family for Christmas. It was their final year in Hogwarts, and although yes, they were both seventeen and decently young, he knew there was no one else out there for him.

He stared down at the dainty ring in the box, overthinking his choice. Maybe she didn’t like the diamond cut. Maybe she didn’t even want a diamond. Maybe she didn’t even want him.

“Fred, you keep looking at that box and you’re gonna go mental.” George whispered, helping himself to some toast. Luckily Y/N, along with everyone else in the house, was still sleeping so he could stare at the tiny piece of jewelry in peace. Fred couldn’t fall back asleep after waking up at around five, his nerves getting the best of him, and George’s ‘twin instinct’ woke him up as well, leading to the two of them sitting in the kitchen as the sun slowly rose over the Burrow.

Today was Christmas eve, and tomorrow, Fred was going to ask Y/N to marry him.

“I can't stop looking at it, George.” Fred whined, tearing his eyes away from it and looking at his brother, “She’s going to be wearing this every day for the rest of her life, it has to be perfect, y’know?”

George sighed, sitting down next to his brother with a mouthful of toast and jam, “She’s gonna love it, mate. It’s Y/N.”

Fred knew George was right. Y/N wasn’t picky, she was simple and loved anything that Fred got her — she always had. But this was a whole new level.

“Oi, get your big mouth away from the food before you eat it all.” Ron’s half-asleep self came barreling down the stairs and into the kitchen. Fred closed the box and hid it in the pocket inside his sweater, not wanting his plan to be known by anyone other than George. Ron had a big mouth, Y/N would surely find out if he knew.

Ron eyed the twins suspiciously, “What are you two gits doing up so early anyways?”

Fred’s eyes widened and he plastered a smile on his face, “We’re shop owners now, Ronnie. We’ve had business matters to attend to. Owls to send and stuff.” George nodded, going along with his brother’s lie. If there was one thing these boys were good at, it was lying.

“On Christmas Eve? Sucks to be you, then.” Ron picked up a muffin, shoving the entire thing in his mouth as crumbs fell all over his shirt, adding to the already countless grease stains.

---

Within an hour, the whole lot had woken up and came down for breakfast. Y/N sat next to Fred, her hand intertwined with his under the table as she ate a strawberry, deep in conversation with Hermione and Ginny. Fred was supposed to be engaged in a discussion with Percy, but he was only half listening, his mind more focused on the nervous butterflies in his stomach that were slowly turning into aggressive wasps.

“You good, Freddie?” Y/N’s soft voice spoke from next to him, a genuine look of concern on her face, “Your hand is shaking.”

Fred grinned at her, “I had an extra cup of coffee this morning. Guess the caffeine is getting to me.” The lie rolled off his tongue effortlessly, he hadn’t had a drop of caffeine because he knew damn well that if he mixed it in with his already stressed out body, he’d be a train wreck.

Y/N shot him a breathtaking smile and Fred swore his heart leaped. Nearly four years of being together and he still couldn't get over how perfect she was. From the loose strand of hair that always fell in her face, to the light freckles grazing her delicate cheeks, to the way her eyes seemed to shine every time she looked at him, he was completely smitten and nothing could change that. He knew from the moment they had their first date that he wanted to marry her.

She returned to her conversation about books or something — Fred wasn't really paying attention — and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, calming his poor heart.

---

That afternoon, Y/N had left with Hermione and Ginny to go do some very, very last minute Christmas shopping after Molly scolded them for not getting it done on time, so Fred found himself outside playing Quidditch with his brothers to pass the time. (Molly had actually kicked them out to do some wrapping, but still.)

He was still out there nearly an hour and a half later, zooming around on his broomstick and letting the brisk wind blow through his hair when he saw the three girls arrive. His eyes immediately went to Y/N, her arms filled with bags and her cheeks tinted red from the cold air. Her eyes landed on him and she smiled, waving him over.

Fred swooped down to the point where he was next to her, his eyes scanning over her face, “How was shopping, love?”

She grinned at him, “Good! But don’t come inside, I got you a few things and they need to be wrapped first.” She pressed her lips to his, making him want to completely forget about the game he was a part of and run inside with her, but he let her pull away and head inside out of the winter air, a dopey grin on his face as he returned to his brothers.

“You’re obsessed.” Ron called out once Fred rejoined the game.

“Leave him alone,” George smirked, “Once you grow some balls and ask Hermione out you’ll know just how he feels.”

Ron flushed bright red, making his brothers burst out laughing as they continued the game.

---

That night after dinner, Fred couldn’t sit still. Y/N was cuddled into his side on the couch, watching the slow fire burn down as her eyelids slowly started getting heavier, meanwhile Fred had enough chaotic energy to go run a marathon. It took all his self control not to let his leg bounce up and down as a sign of nervous energy, because he knew that if he did, Y/N would question him. The last thing he wanted was for her to be suspicious.

“Freddie?” Her tired voice mumbled as she pulled her head off of his shoulder to look him in the eye, “I really am having a wonderful time here with your family.”

He smiled, pulling her forehead close to him so he could press a gentle kiss on her skin, “And I’m having a wonderful time with you.”

She grinned, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose, “I love you, my little goof.”

Fred melted, leaning even closer to her touch if that was possible, “And I love you, my little angel.”

“Should we head up for bed?” She whispered in his ear, despite the fact that there was no one else in the room. He nodded his head quicker than he intended to, but he knew that no matter when they went to bed, he wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight. By this time tomorrow, Y/N could be his fiancee. Or she could have crushed his heart in her tiny hand by saying ‘no’ and leaving him spiralling in a pit of self despair.

He grabbed her hand, ignoring his thoughts, and led her up the many, many flights of steps and into his room. Which was pretty much their room now, if they were being honest. She took off her large knitted sweater that Molly Weasley had made her last year and sat it down neatly on the end of the bed. That was another thing Fred loved about her. She was pretty much his opposite when it came to small things - while he would have just thrown his own sweater across the room and only looked for it when he was cold next, she gently folded it and placed it where she knew she’d be able to find and use it.

Fred smiled at the folded sweater, looking over to Y/N who was now untying her hair, letting the loose waves cascade down her shoulders. She really did look like an genuine angel.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” She grinned, walking over to him. Fred placed his hands on her hips, letting them slide slightly under the tank top she had on, his fingers rubbing against her soft skin. Y/N felt goosebumps rise under his touch and leaned in closer to him.

“You, you gorgeous woman.” He smirked. She blushed, trying to take the attention away from herself by running her hands through his hair, causing his eyes to flutter shut. She placed another quick kiss on his nose and took off to get ready for bed.

As she drifted off to sleep that night, her light breaths fanning over Fred’s shoulder, he couldn’t help but worry about tomorrow. He really, really wanted to marry her, but what if she felt like they were too young? Being engaged didn’t mean you had to get married right away, but what if she wanted to wait until after Hogwarts to start thinking about marriage?

He shook his head, not wanting to keep planting negative thoughts in his mind as he looked over to the woman sleeping next to him, her chest rising and falling with each breath she took. She looked incredibly peaceful and Fred wished he could be in the same position. He only wished that all his stressing could be worth it — that tomorrow night, at this time, Y/N would be wearing the ring on her left hand and grinning at it like a lovestruck fool.

She’s going to say yes, his subconscious nagged him, sounding as if George were saying the words to him and not his mind. He smiled. She was going to say yes.

---

“Freddie, it’s Christmas!” Y/N shook the ginger boy awake, startling him out of his dream. He scanned the room in a panic, calming down once he saw the dazzling smile on his girl’s face and the realization that there was, in fact, no immediate danger.

Today was the day.

“Merry Christmas,” he smiled lazily, pulling her back down against his chest. She giggled, placing a kiss on his shoulder, his neck, and then his cheek.

“We have to get up! It’s nearly ten, I hear your family downstairs already.” She reluctantly pulled away from him, already feeling colder than she was moments ago. Surprisingly, Fred gave off a lot of body heat, and she already missed it.

“Fine, just ‘cause it’s Christmas,” he grinned at her, figuring out a way to sneak the ring downstairs without her noticing, “Tell ‘em I’ll be down in a few.”

Lucky for Fred, she was too excited about the holiday to question why he wasn't going down with her. She picked up the neatly folded sweater on the end of the bed, threw it on over her pyjamas, and rushed out of the room. As soon as Fred heard her footsteps retreating down the stairs, he jumped out of bed and opened his nightstand, taking out the little velvet box and placing it on the bed. He then opened his dresser and grabbed the baggiest sweater her could find, throwing it on and hiding the ring in one of his little pockets on the inside, out of sight.  

He looked over himself once more in the mirror, “You got this, Fred.” And with that, he rushed down the stairs, tripping over his own two feet the whole way down. Once he made it downstairs without injury, he turned to face his entire family sitting around the Christmas tree, everyone had their tea in Christmas mugs that had been painted by the Weasley kids when they were younger. Gifts littered the ground around the large, overly decorated tree, the twinkling lights adding to the holiday ambiance.

Y/N smiled and pat the couch next to her, signalling she had saved that spot for Fred. He poured himself a quick tea and sat down next to her, placing his hand on her thigh to hopefully take his mind off of the events that were about to unfold. He tried hard to keep his mind away from what he would say and how she would react, but there was no way he could keep distracted for too long.

George looked over at him and winked, knowing fully well that he was the only one who knew what was going to happen. Fred tried to avoid the tinge of pink on his cheeks, turning his head down to face the carpet.

Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Harry (who probably arrived overnight as he wasn’t there yesterday), along with the rest of the Weasley family sat around the tree, all still talking, until Molly stood up and clapped her hands, a big grin on her freckled face.

“Shall we get started, then?”

A mumble of agreement made its way around the circle, so Molly went over to the tree and picked up the first box she saw. It happened to be a bunch of boxes, actually, because she handed one box to everyone, clapping her hands.

Y/N smiled at the box on her lap, waiting for everyone to start opening theirs before she picked at the ribbon, letting it fall to the ground and then ripping the paper off of it.

“Oh, wow, mum,” Ron forced a smile, unfolding the furry jumper with a giant green R on the front, “It’s almost the same as last year’s.”

Molly waved her hands, “Oh, Ron. You know they’re your favourites!”

Fred unwrapped his, eyes widening at the large baby blue sweater with FRED W. knitted into it with orange, “Mum, blue clashes with my hair.”

Y/N giggled, taking hers out next. Hers was the opposite of Fred’s, the orange knit with baby blue letters of her initials in the middle, making her grin.

She folded it neatly and placed it in her lap, “Thank you, Mrs. Weasley, I love it.” Fred gave her a look as to say ‘are you mental’ before tossing his behind him on the couch and using it as a pillow. Molly rolled her eyes at her son, smiling kindly to Y/N before walking back towards the tree.

“Wait, mum, I think Fred has a gift he'd like to give Y/N next,” George piped up, causing the colour to completely drain from Fred’s face. Everyone turned their eyes to him to see what the gift was going to be, making Fred nearly a million times more nervous than he actually was.

“Thanks for putting me on the spot, George.” Fred said through gritted teeth, turning his attention to Y/N next to him who looked at him with curiosity in her eyes. He pulled his hand away from her thigh, not wanting her to feel how clammy and sweaty it had become in the last five seconds.

“Go on, then, Fred, which one is it?” Ron looked under the tree, trying to find a gift with Y/N’s name on it but having no success.

“It’s not under the tree, Ron.” Fred glared daggers at his younger brother, his nerves getting the best of him.

He once again turned to face Y/N, who had her undivided attention on him. He was nervous as hell, sure, but when he looked into her eyes and the faint smile ghosting on her lips, he knew how badly he wanted this.

He wanted her forever.

“Y/N,” Fred started, his voice shaky, “I remember when I saw you for the first time. You walked into Potions class looking pissed off because Snape failed you on an assignment that you were certain you did perfectly. You walked in there, told him off, rendered the class speechless, and sat in your seat for the rest of Potions with this proud smirk on your face.”

Y/N giggled slightly at the memory, thinking it over in her head. She had later found out that a certain Slytherin who was on detention duty had hidden her assignment from Snape and that’s why she had failed.

“And I remember when I spoke to you for the first time. It was right before a Quidditch game, I bumped into you by accident and I was ready for you to go off on me with that same passion you had in Potions, but you were so quiet and shy, it was like you were a whole different person.” Fred continued talking, his voice still shaky but he barely noticed, all of his attention on Y/N.

“And then I couldn’t get you off my mind. I was obsessed. I asked you to come to Hogsmeade village with me one weekend and my heart was yours. There was no one else for me. Just you. We sat in the Three Broomsticks and talked for four hours about everything. I went to bed that night thinking of you.”

Y/N gazed into Fred’s eyes, forgetting about everyone else in the room. Her heart was beating faster than she’d ever felt it before, and her mouth felt dry, as if every word in the dictionary had vanished from her vocabulary.

“When you became mine, I knew it was meant to be. You helped George and I with pranks, you’ve supported my idea to open a shop, you've gotten along brilliantly with my family, and you’re the smartest woman I’ve ever met — sorry Hermione.” Fred turned to face the other witch for a quick second before turning back to Y/N.

Y/N felt as if her entire body was putty in Fred’s hands. She probably looked like a fish out of water, her mouth agape and her eyes bulging out of her head, redness creeping up onto her cheeks.

“What I’m trying to say is that — I can’t imagine a day without you by my side. Though the good, the bad, the ugly, you know the saying. I want you with me until my last breath.” Fred finished, standing up and taking the ring out of his sweater pocket, getting down on one knee in front of her.

Y/N’s hand flew to her mouth, and she could faintly see Molly Weasley gripping her husband’s arm for dear life.

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you do me the biggest honour in all the world and become my wife?” Fred asked, opening the tiny box and revealing the ring. His hands were shaking, and he felt as if everyone else in the room had vanished, the two of them being the only ones remaining.

Y/N stayed speechless, her eyes staring into Fred’s as if she could see her future in them. Which she could. She loved Fred with every ounce in her body, and didn’t want any one else by her side for the rest of her life.

“Yes.”

She had said it so quietly Fred wasn’t even sure he heard her.

“What?”

“Yes!” She jumped up, landing on him and wrapping her arms around his neck. Fred let out the biggest sigh of relief, placing the ring box on the couch and engulfing her with a hug. He could hear his family cheering around them, but all he could focus on was her. She pulled away from him, the biggest smile he had ever seen plastered on her face, her eyes shining brightly as if he had just given her the sun.

“I love you.” She smiled, leaning closer to him and pressing a light kiss on his lips. He smiled against her touch, reaching behind her to pick up the ring box off the couch. He held it in front of her and she smiled, holding out her hand for him.

He picked up the ring and slid it gently on her finger, his eyes locked with hers the entire time.

“Freddie, you put it on my middle finger.” she giggled, holding it up to him as if she were flipping him off, the dazzling ring sitting proudly.

“My bad.” he chuckled, sliding it off and placing it on her ring finger, where it belonged, and where it would be sitting comfortably for the rest of Y/N’s life.

“I only got you a notebook and a pen holder,” she smirked, admiring the jewel. Fred found himself laughing, pulling her in for a hug once more.

Molly stood up, clapping her hands, “Yay! This calls for celebration! We have a new Weasley!”

Y/N Weasley. Fred really liked the sound of that.

[idjitlili]

Some Aragorn love?💖

PoTato buddies

Aragorn x reader

summary: imagine being apart of the fellowship,falling for aragorn,yet you feel like you stand no chance,turn tables he is very protective of you when another male is in the way.

word count:2299

You had been apart of the fellowship since Rivendell,you weren't much of a fighter but Gandalf insisted you come ,you were good at cooking potatoes ,and some other things. But the really reason you came was because you were a healer. You were shy around new people, you soon developed a bond with Sam you had one major thing in common you both loved potatoes. Sam was the main person you spoke to,he was not judgemental and was a kind soul.

You would burst out with laughter with Sam making the others stare at you,you were always quiet,you were all currently walking through the snow. You were freezing but Sam was distracting you with stories such as when Frodo had made him jump when he was gardenering ,and he ended up accidently throwing a potato at him,before rush to see if the potato was damaged. Pippin was also very humerus,and childish,well he was barely an adult so it made sense. "what's so funny?" he had questioned you confused ,you stopped laughing and stared at him briefly before answering. "I would tell you but...the jokes aragorn." Sam snickered next to you,Gimil burst out laughing, pippin didn't understand straight away but eventually got it, Aragorn sent you a smile before walking again.

He was surprised at your outburst, not hearing you speak that much before, when you did it was just one word answers.  He would often see you giggling with Sam , he thought you liked the hobbit, he couldn't deny he found your shyness adorable , and he found you very attractive. Sam would often tease you about Aragorn because he knew of your feelings for him.

"You are going to talk to him, y/n tomorrow, promise?" He had been trying to get you talk to Aragorn for ages, today was the closest you had gotten. You had simply nodded at the hobbit.

***

After Gandalf had died, you had all made it to the elves, well lady Galadriel. You had been sat with Sam and Frodo when legolas had walked by. "Uh..mister legolas?" He had stopped turning to you, nodding for you go on. "Uh..right..if you had no legs what would your name be?" You face was heating up,he looked at you with an confused expression. "I assume , it would be the same." You shook your head at the elf. "no mister legolas, your name would be leg a less , because your legs Aragorn." He have you a look at said 'really? ' before sending you a small smile.

"You are going to be teasing Aragorn with that for the rest of the journey,aren't you?" Gimli had asked you , you had nodded in agreement, Aragorn had heard the whole thing from nearby.

***

Boromir was dead, you had been separated from Sam, and was with Aragorn, Gimli and legolas. You had held onto Boromir's hand as he passed away. You had wept as Aragorn had led you all after Merry and Pippi, you cried the whole first day, there was no time to rest .Legolas had basically carried you the whole day your head on his shoulder. As much as Aragorn wanted to carry you , Legolas had much more strength , being an elf and all and Gimli did too but he was too short.

The third day you four had ran into Eomer, in the lands of Rohan. He had already introduced himself , and briefly questioned you all before turning his attention to you. He had stood infront of you , eyeing you. "Why do you travel with these men?" He had asked holding his posture. "Uh..I am their healer." You had spoken quietly, avoiding his direct eye, he was indeed an handsome man. "She does not need explain her reasons," Aragorn had stated simply.

"Oh I see now, she is with you." Eomer had eyed you then Aragorn , who wrapped his arm around your waist, making you flush red. Legolas had smirked at Aragorn, "yes we are." Aragorn's grip on you became tighter, Eomer had just smiled and soon enough you were told where the hobbits were, but they may be dead. That worried you , you had already lost two of your group. Eomer had given you two horses, you having to share with Aragorn, you had lift you on , sitting you infront of him. You decided not to question what he had just done. As you set off after the hobbits.

"I am sorry , if I made you uncomfortable back there." He had told you sincerely , his left arm around your waist to keep him steady. "..no you didn't." You spoke , causing him to hum in response , as you continued after the journey after the hobbits. You couldn't help but blush at Aragorn's body being so close to yours. His strong arms holding tightly around you to control the horse , his head on your shoulder to see where he was going. His breath on your neck , sending tingles down your spin.

The next time you were both so close was after the battle of helms deep, in celebration of victory. Theoden had toasted in celebration, Gimli and Legolas were having a drinking competition, as you ,Eomer and Aragorn watched. Eomer had discovered that you weren't actually with Aragorn, but it was clear that you liked him. As you would blush every time he would speak with you, he decided upon himself that he was going to do something about it. Well at least after Gimli passed out, causing Legolas to win.

As soon as a new song was played, which happened to be a fast paced one , he had asked you. "Miss y/n, would you dance with me?" He had asked you gently, you had blushed ,nodding "I am not very good though." You had spoken quietly , making your wast to Eomer. "Don't worry, I'll guide you." He had spoken grabbing your hand gently , leading you to the dance floor. Aragorn watched envy, Legolas nudged him, "I believe that he does that on purpose." Aragorn had scoffed at this, staring still.

Before you had both started dancing Eomer had let you know that he knew of your feelings for the future king, you had denied it , but he had just smirked at you in response. Before you began dancing fast paced with Eomer, with twirls and turns. He had even lifted you with ease , causing you gasp and giggle, as he spun you. Your face went red as he dipped you , it was like dirty dancing , yes there were some hip movements, you looked great with Eomer especially in the dress Eowyen had given you. you had to tuck one side up into your shorts so you didn't trip dancing revealing your whole bare leg. In finale Eomer had grabbed that leg by the knee , guiding you down to one final dip. As your cleavage was fully exposed to Aragorn, yes Eomer did that on purpose, before pulling you up, you had embraced him.

"You are a very skilled dancer , Eomer." You had spoke quietly to him as merry and pippin clapped. Gentlemen. "As are you." He spoke breathless letting go off you. In which as he did merry ran at you jumping up on you, wrapping his arms around your neck, you had grabbed a hold of his legs to keep him steady , giggling. "Will you dance with me ,my lady?" He had asked smiling up at you, you had nodded at him , dancing with him you in your arms , because he was too small on the ground.

Afterwards he would not let go of you, so you kept a hold of him , sitting back down next to Aragorn with the hobbit sat your lap. Aragorn smiled at you, and eventually Merry had fell asleep on you , using your breasts as pillow. After a while of being in that position, you began to ache you had only had one ale, it was just you were so tired. You had let out an "uGh." And a groan causing Aragorn to look at you. "What's the matter?" He had asked eyeing Pippin, he couldn't help but be jealous of him. Pippin had already made his way to bed well forced by Gandalf ,leaving Merry on you.

"It hurts him laying on my..after a long time." He had accidentally looked down at your burst when you had said it , blushing , He had pulled Merry from you gently , ushering you to stand, once you did he followed carrying Merry. "Are you tired , y/n?" He had questioned you ,you had nodded. "Take him." You had looked at him confused but did, turning to leave in embarrassment, but you didn't even get the chance to walk as you sweated off your feet in ease by Aragorn who began carrying you bridal style.

Merry laid upon your chest yet again, as Aragorn held you tightly. Eomer had smirked at the three of you in success, you and Aragorn hadn't even told the others goodnight, as he carried you away. Your eyes fell heavy ,"I'll will get Merry to bed, then you okay?" He had told you , you had nodded tiredly. Your eyes flutter closed, falling asleep in Aragorn's' arms, he smiled at your sleeping form as he took you to the room that Theoden had gave you to sleep in for the night.

He had laid you in the bed , Merry next to you , before he sat down in the armchair going to sleep. You had woken up with Merry laid across your stomach, and Aragorn changing. You had blushed harshly at his bare back before you turned so your face was faced down in the pillow so he would t know you were awake from your blushing face. Pippin groaned , now using your ass as pillow.

Aragorn had turned to see your position, before walking over to you , now dressed poking your shoulder,"y/n,Merry , wake  up ." Merry groans , you sit up rubbing your eyes, to act as if you just woke up. You push merry off of you ,shaking him awake."w-whats going on?" you question,remembering how you ended up here. "Gandalf has to Pippin to Gondor for safety." he states at the side of the bed,as you stand up from it ,yawning as merry stood on the bed. "why?" Merry asked panicked. "sauron thinks he has ring,they are leaving soon." Merry had gasped jumping from the bed,running out the door,slamming it shut. 

You looked at Aragorn ,who was already looking at you. "is Pippin going to be okay?" you questioned ,showing your concern for the youngest hobbit ,Aragorn simply nodded. You looked down to see you were still in your dress from last night,you grab your bag that is sat next to the bed pulling out your clothes. You were used to having to get dressed infront of Sam,frodo,and some other fellowship,but not the point you were naked ,or they could anything. You tried pulling the dress off but it was tied on too tight,you groaned and turned to aragorn ,who was looking away,red. "uhh..could you please help me untie this." he walked closer to you,so you turned away so he could untie you.

His hands pulled gently at the strings on the dress,loosening it ,you breathe in feeling less caged now. His hands soon fell away as he walked away ,facing away from you again. You went back to trying to remove the dress,you groan as it gets stuck under your shoulders,leaving your arms in the air ,looking pretty stupid ,if I am being honest. You werent sure why  Aragorn was still here with you. "um...I hate to ask again,but this dress is a little stuck." of course the man you like as to see you in your underclothes.

He chuckled at you ,before pulling the dress up above your head ,but it was no use,it was completely stuck. "uh..would you care if the dress is ripped?" he had questioned you ,he had now idea how anyone could fit in a dress like this ,too many layers,and buttons. "no..I'll j-just get Eowyn a new one." thats all he need ,as he ripped the dress in half  with his bare hands ,you had gasped ,and blushed at the thought of him doing that in some particular actitives. "woah...thank you."he smiled at you as you began now dressing.

"I have been meaning to tell you something ,y/n." he had spoke ,as you pulled the undershirt off,before throwing a navy tunic over your chest."o-oh?" you had replied nervously."for many months ,I have admired you...and it is clear to me you have captured my heart." you were shocked at his words ,not believing it at all. "a-are you being serious?this isnt a joke is it?" he had walked over to you ,your trousers  half on as he brought his hand to your cheek,before leaning down to press a short gently kiss it your lips. You hadnt kissed anyone before ,it had came natural to you even though you were clueless. "believe me now?" you nod at him,he wraps his arms around your waist ,your hands on is chest.

"hey,um  maybe we should go find merry?"

"in a minute,will you court me?"

"yes ,of course.Darn I could do with some mash or a grilled cheezus right now."

[amplesalty]

Halloween 2021 - Day 19 - Train to Busan (2016)

Zombies…on a train? Could be worse, I suppose, it could be Snakes on a Train…

I joke about that zombies on a train thing but maybe that actually kinda works in a weird way. If it wasn’t for the fact this movie seems to be generally quite well regarded, that would throw you off a little if that was pitched to you as the premise. “A bunch of people are caught up in the middle of an unfolding zombie apocalypse whilst on a train” could easily be written off as a cheap B movie churned out to make a quick buck on DVD. Train of the Dead or something like that. Actually, hang on…

Okay, so there is a Train of the Dead, a Thai movie from the mid 00’s that seems to be more focused on ghosts than zombies.  Not that you’d know from this alternate artwork complete with CGI zombie and ripoff artwork from the Dead Rising 3 poster. That game didn’t even come out for another 6 years, you’re telling me someone went and made another poster for this movie just to cash in on DR3?

Train to Busan is also of Asian origin, hailing from South Korea. Always nice to mix things up with something from a foreign land, I did watch The Host a number of years ago which was also made in South Korea. Across domestic and international, Train to Busan proved to be a success both commercially and critically and spawned some follow ups, a prequel documenting the initial outbreak and a standalone sequel that came out last year to much lesser success.

A couple of the actors here apparently also featured in a movie called The Crucible (AKA Silenced) some years prior which told the real life events at a school for the hearing-impaired where some of the teachers were sexually assaulting the pupils. Well that sounds remarkably grim.

Let’s switch back to the much more uplifting topic of zombies, shall we? Such as the lesser spotted zombie deer that comes back to life after being run over by a careless truck driver who is too busy trying to answer his phone to notice the deer wandering across the road. As he drives away, we see the deer re-animate, shifting all its limbs and neck back into place before setting off on it’s merry way again, albeit with some majorly glazed over eyes. So, was it a zombie before or was being run over the catalyst for it to turn undead? Was this thing maurading around biting other animals or even people? I feel like we’ve missed something much more visually interesting here.

Instead we get the re-emergence of Hollywood Dad in Korean form as Seo Seok-woo is spending just far too much time at the office and doesn’t get to see his little girl. We even get told he misses his kid’s big recital and has to watch it on camcorder instead. He buys her a Nintendo Wii for her birthday but she’s a little confused since he already bought her one earlier this year for ‘Childrens Day’. Like you kids don’t have enough presents as it is, now you want a whole day dedicated to you? I’m curious as to where this guy is getting all these pristine boxed Wii’s at this point though, this is like 10 years after it came out. Unless this is one of those weird situations where it took ages for it to be released, like I think China had some sort of ban on games consoles at one point and everyone just started releasing everything once it lifted. Clearly Nintendo should have capitalized here and did some product place, have her playing Wii U instead. She could have been playing Zombie U! There are some 3DS XL adverts in the background later on so maybe they did have something going on? Still, presents, negligent fathers, deer based cameos…this really is like Jingle All the Way.

His little girl is generally a bit upset and wants to head back to her Mother’s for her birthday, hence taking the train to Busan. Just as the train is departing, we start to get a little insight into the unfolding events as one of the station workers sees a disturbance and a crowd of people forming. Then, as the train starts pulling away, he gets pounced out of nowhere.

An injured lady sneaks aboard and from there the shit hits the proverbial fan as she bites someone, who then bites someone else and everything goes to hell. The movie subscribes to the ‘fast’ zombie idea which does make everything more intense. You’ll have someone go down, then bolt back upright, snapping their neck back into place before setting after their next victim. There’s almost a sense of World War Z to it at times with the speed at which these zombies can move and there’s a few occasions where they pile up on top of each other, not really for strategic effect as in World War Z but it certainly does create a strong visual just from this absolute swam of the undead.

Busan does succeed where many other zombie movies fail by actually creating some emotional investment in its characters. Our protagonists self centeredness is underlined when he briefly locks out some survivors from one section of the train, or telling his daughter to only look out for herself from now on but he slowly comes to change as the movie goes on.

Mainly because he has a shining example to follow in the form of Yoon Sang-hwa who aside from looking very dapper in his padded jacket type thing, will often lead from the front and not hesitate in trying to help others. Like, there’s this whole section where he, Seok-woo and another survivor need to fight through to another part of the train to help another group and he just wades in with just his fists. But that’s all he needs really, sending the undead flying with a single punch or snapping their necks. Guy is a total badass. Has a very dry personality as well and has a bit of a thing with Seok-woo, pretty much spending the whole movie calling him an asshole.

Not content with dealing with the human element, the movie is strong with it’s action as well. Not just with the generic chase or fight scenes one might expect from a zombie movie, you also get this whole train crash scene which leads to this whole escalating tension where a group are pinned under this train carriage which not only threatens to give way and crush them, there are also zombies on the inside that are threatening to break through the windows and get to them. As if the zombie apocalypse wasn’t enough, it just feels like there’s this ever growing crescendo of events that these people have to deal with.

And that ending…I don’t know if I could have coped if those guys hadn’t made it through after going through all that.

[grxceblqckthxrn]

hi @chocolatecarstairs came up with these post-CHOG questions and i really want to answer them because im sad that im finished reading it :((

MAJOR SPOILERS BELOW

what was your favorite part, 1 or 2?

Honestly I loved both parts, but I’d say I loved part two just a little bit more for the time that James wasn’t under the curse anymore and LOVED Cordelia

which scene in the book was your favorite?

EVERY scene that had Matthew and James being wholesome parabatai in it!!! my favourite chapter in this book was Blue Ruin, the one after Grace takes the bracelet back from James  (aside from the whispering room ofc).

what scene (or scenes) made you cry the most?

ok ngl i didnt spend much of this book crying, but the only scene that actually made me tear up was when james was dying and matthew could feel it and jesse (WHO I FUCKING LOVED MORE THAN I THOUGHT I WOULD) gave him his last breath :(((((

what scenes were unsatisfactory?

there were not enough Christopher scenes (but to be fair, even if the entire book was just Christopher it still wouldnt be enough for me)

but fr, i cant think of any off the top of my head but i’ll edit this if i do later

what made you laugh the most?

matthew!! james!! thomas!! christopher!! also some of the things Jesse said

what bored you?

this wasn’t boring, but the whole charles/alastair plot line didn’t have me very invested. I did love the alastair/ cordelia scenes tho, so it was just charles that was the problem

also no offense to james bc he was my first actual fictional crush after reading TMH/NBS but like whenever he talked about being in grace i would literally zone out lol the bracelet curse makes him so boring but whenever he isnt in the curse/ is with someone who is NOT grace i just!! love him!!

what disappointed you?

cassie honestly had me kinda shipping matthew/cordelia for a solid FIVE SECONDS there when he stepped in to dance with her after james left her standing there, but that was one of the only scenes that made me feel like they had natural chemistry (along with the scene where he drops her off at her house). I felt like the during the rest of their interactions in the book, cordelia was kind of uncomfortable, which made me really sad because even tho she has every right to feel that way, i felt bad for matthew. I kind of want him to fall for someone else completely and for it to be reciprocated. also, i just really want for matthew and cordelia to become good friends because i feel like they could have such great natural chemistry if matthew didnt love her.

what is the top thing you wish had been done differently?

see above.

what things did you predict that came true?

JAMES BURNING DOWN BLACKTHORN MANOR I FUCKING SAID HE WOULD DO IT TWO FUCKING YEARS AGO IF YALL WANT ME TO LINK THE THEORY LMK

what are some things that were really unexpected?

ok there’s quite a few things here so bear w me babes:

- James genuinely loving cordelia from the start. I wasn’t expecting him to naturally feel nothing for grace at all, so i was expecting a slow burn jordelia, but finding out that he actually loves her makes me so happy but the end where cordelia thinks he was just pretending breaks my heart :(((

-matthew liking cordelia lol definitely was not expecting another parabatai love triangle but i hope it doesnt last. i do think it adds to the plot and i love it, it just hurts to see matthew so emo :(((

-I was expecting to like cordelia as a character, but i ended up LOVING her so fucking much???? she’s so three dimensional to me, and it’s interesting to see how her personality adapts around different characters as people adapt around different social circles irl

-liking jesse as much as i did

-ok so james’ entire character was a surprise to me. it’s so fascinating to see how the bracelet actually affected his personality.If you recall him in The Midnight Heir from TBC. he’s like an entirely different person. i still loved him in TMH but i went into CHOG thinking that if he was gonna be like that the entire time i’d probably get over him really quickly. i was pleasantly surprised by how much i ended up loving him even more tho

-i didn’t expect oliver hayward to die and im going to stay emo about it

- Christopher is so much more clear headed than he was made out to be prior?? like there were so many scenes where he was fully there and when he defended anna to alastair i just kfdsnfkld i love him

are there characters that you didn’t like before that you like now?

yikes umm... Alastair, maybe? he’s somewhat okay to me now, I dont dislike him as much as I used to. ooh and Hypatia Vex. the only scene i remember liking her in QOAAD was when she helped out kit, ty and dru (me, going a whole TSC post without somehow mentioning kit? not possible)

are there characters that you liked before that you don’t like now?

I started CHOG ready to give Grace the benefit of the doubt, and I was surprised by how timid and shy she seemed at the start, but it was interesting to see how it was all an act and how she doesn’t have an actual personality yet. one could argue that she actually does love james, but i doubt it at this point. i dont hate her yet, even tho she IS fucking up james’ life, but she’s on thin fucking ice.

who was your favorite new character?

does new character mean completely new or just never been in a novella new? because for the first, it would be Cordelia (i LOVE her sm!!) and other wise it would be james, matthew and co. also!!! jesse!!

what places in the book would you like to visit?

that hell dimension sounds pretty lit ngl

did you like the ending?

ok so. we KNOW that jordelia is gonna be endgame. cassandra clare always takes the hardest path to get there, but when has she not delivered? it’s just a matter of waiting. so, yes, i did like the ending in sense of the plot because it was a great twist, but i also feel really bad for all of them even tho ik they’re eventually gonna be together :(((

what did you think of the epilogue?

i wasnt surprised, since we alr know that Tatiana is shady asf, but i just really wanna know how she partnered up with a GREATER demon like lol wtf. again, im really happy in terms of plot with this

what are your thoughts on the engagement?

i feel so. fucking bad. for cordelia. and james too, even tho he’s under the bracelet’s curse so he doesnt even KNOW he’s being manipulated. but i love how even through the curse, james still loves cordelia in his own way.

what did you want to see that didn’t happen?

matthew getting therapy periodt

umm honestly i just want more “merry thieves” content like i just love. all of them.

what do you wish had been resolved that wasn’t?

i really want matthew to tell james or cordelia what happened because i just need him to be loved and supported lol i want to give him a hug. 

what is your favorite pairing as of now?

jordelia!!! and lucie and jesse are kind cute rn, and i like them if theyre gonna be pining after eachother but i feel like if they actually get together i wont like the relationship as much.

which characters would you like to see more of in the next book?

CHRISTOPHER CHRISTOPHER CHRISTOPHER 

ANNA!!! i lovED reading about her she’s so badass

matthew!! jesse!! also i wanna see more of those bitchy girls lol just so we can see anna or cordelia tell them to stfu

what is one character whose death you would undo if you could?

ok i know that jesse is still very much a conscious character despite being dead but like,,, i want him to be the way he was before and also i want him to come back to life

and barbara!! she seemed so sweet 

which characters got bad/unsatisfactory endings?

ummm barbara? i cant really say much on this yet bc its still only the first book and when has the first book ever ended up with anyone being happy.

oh but also can we sign a petition to make cassie let matthew actually survive the series because my heart aches just at the THOUGHT of eventually having to read a scene where he dies

which characters got what they deserved?

literally. none of them yet. :(

who should have died but didn’t?

Tatiana lol also lowkey charles but i also feel pity him to an extent 

what plotline are you most excited to see in the next book?

okay the entire jesse plot has me hooked because i LOVE his character. also i love the bracelet plot but its making me MAD because i just want james to be happy but

what is one scene that you wish hadn’t happened, but you know was unavoidable?

THE ONE WHERE GRACE PUTS THE BRACELET BACK ON JAMES. i mean obv there was no way he was completely done with grace, but i literally got so sad at that part like why HIM of all people smfh let him be happy

which pairing do you like the least?

alastair x charles, grace x james, lucie x matthew bc neither of them actually like either imo lol

what are some theories you have for chain of iron?

- not necessarily for COI but i think matthew is gonna get exiled and turned into made into a mundane

- the bracelet will break (?)

- jesse will come back to life (like actual life) at the end of the book

-grace is gonna do something to help the main characters, making it hard for us to hate her.

what characters do you think should have gotten more plot time?

lol are yall gonna hate me if i say christopher again (also anna)

anyways this was really fun!!!!! PLEASE ASK ME STUFF ABOUT MY OPINIONS AND STUFF OR JUST SAY ANYTHING ABT THE BOOK BC IM DESPERATE TO TALK TO PPL ABOUT IT

[sunriserose1023]

Merry & Married {3}

SUMMARY: It’s been almost a year since the most humiliating moment of your life. You’ve done your best to move on—by literally moving across the country, starting a new job, and you’re finally starting to feel settled. That, of course, is when your bubblehead cousin sends you the invitation to her wedding—which is exactly one year to the day that you were left at the altar. You have to go, but you don’t have to go alone. Enter Bucky Barnes, the best friend you’ve ever had. You fill him in, and of course he agrees to go home with you. What are friends for? Never mind the fact that he’s desperately in love with you. And if you hadn’t sworn off men forever, you might just find him … attractive. So there you are, surrounded by love, bridesmaid dresses, champagne, and no less than one hundred sprigs of mistletoe. What could possibly go wrong? WORD COUNT: 1686 WARNINGS FOR THE SERIES: Emotional angst, presumably unrequited love, friends to lovers, fluff, happily ever after, written for the @heamarvel​​ Holiday Movie Challenge

Masterlist

“Fuck, New Orleans is bright.”

You giggled to yourself as Natasha frantically slid her sunglasses on. Beside you, Bucky made a face as he shrugged out of his coat and you nodded. 

“And humid. I don’t even want to think of how my hair’s going to look.”

Natasha shook her head.

“Home sweet home, right, Y/N?”

You nodded, swallowing hard as Bucky laid a hand on your shoulder. You closed your eyes and lifted a hand, gripping his for just a moment before you sighed. Natasha stood beside her suitcase, scrolling through her phone and you turned to look up at Bucky, a soft smile coming over your face when he smirked down at you, sunglasses hiding his blue eyes. 

“What?” “Nat, did you call a car?” “Yep. Should be pulling up any minute now.”

You broke the staring contest you were having with Bucky to smile over at her. 

“Think we can change the travel plans?”

Bucky groaned, shaking his head as he took another bite. You laughed at the powdered sugar in his beard and covering the front of his shirt. Natasha rolled her eyes, sitting back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest. 

“It’s just fried dough.” “No, it’s a delicacy.”

You laughed again, at the words muffled by the bite in Bucky’s mouth. He looked to you, leaning in closer. 

“What’s it called again?” “A beignet.”

Natasha blew out a breath. 

“Yes, we are the quintessential New Orleans tourists, having beignets at Cafe Du Monde.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at Natasha. 

“Don’t be such a Grinch, Romanoff.”

You laughed as her green eyes narrowed, and you shook your head, sliding the plate away before Bucky was wearing more powdered sugar than he already was. You nodded to him. 

“Have you dunked it in the coffee yet?”

He nodded. 

“Thank God your cousin’s wedding isn’t here. I’d gain—“ “Diabetes.”

You laughed at Natasha’s knowing comment, as she picked up her coffee cup and took a sip. Bucky shook his head, taking another bite, passing the rest of the pastry towards you. You smiled and picked it up, dipping it in the pile of powdered sugar on the plate before taking a bite. You giggled when powdered sugar went all over your face and shirt, but you made no move to wipe it away when you saw the grin on Bucky’s face. He nodded to Natasha. 

“Take our picture.” “Oh, Buck—“ “You’re gorgeous, hush.”

You felt your cheeks warm as Natasha smiled, lifting her phone and snapping a pic of you and Bucky, powdered sugar all over your faces and clothes, lips curled in cheesy grins. 

The town you grew up in was about a three-hour drive from New Orleans. Natasha had ordered a car to take the three of you to the lake house, and you stared out the window as you drove over the long bridge out of New Orleans. Bucky sat across from you, Natasha beside you, both of them watching you. Natasha widened her eyes at Bucky and he gave a nod before he leaned forward. 

“Hey.”

You turned to face him and he smiled at you. 

“Tell me about the fam.”

Natasha gave a quiet laugh. 

“There’s a can of worms you don’t know you’re not ready to open.”

You smiled at her. 

“It’s too late. He’s already on the way to them.”

Natasha sighed, shaking her head. You smiled as you looked back to Bucky. 

“Well, the first person I’ll seek out is my mom.” “Don’t worry; you’ll love her. You’ve already met her, because she’s Y/N, just older.”

You rolled your eyes as Natasha smiled, then nodded. 

“Then we’ll have to find Nana.”

You looked to Bucky and grinned. 

“You’ll love Nana.”

Natasha vehemently nodded, leaning forward. 

“She’s as tall as I am—“ “Which isn’t saying much.”

You dodged the elbow Natasha tried to hit you with and you giggled. She rolled her eyes, then continued. 

“She’s also the one who taught me to take no shit.”

Bucky pursed his lips as he nodded. 

“Oh, good. A pre-Natasha Natasha.”

You nodded your head. 

“Everyone says Nat acts just like Nana did back in the day. But Nana can still hold her own.”

Bucky nodded and Natasha fluffed her hair as she spoke. 

“Nana and Papa had five daughters. Hence the reason our family is so big. I’ll take some, then Y/N can take over. First there’s Aunt Janet and Uncle Hank. They have Hope, who’s married to Scott Lang. Scott has a daughter named Cassie from a previous marriage, and Hope’s pregnant right now. They also have Carol.”

Bucky nodded. 

“Is she married?”

You and Natasha exchanged a glance. You shook your head as Natasha spoke out loud. 

“No, she’s a lesbian.”

Bucky flicked his eyes to you, and you lifted a shoulder and an eyebrow at the same time, almost like you were daring him to say something. He smiled back at you and you rolled your eyes, smiling as you looked to Natasha. 

“Do you think she’s bringing a plus one?” “Uh, it’s Carol. I’ll almost guarantee it.”

You looked back to Bucky. 

“Carol’s a bit of a … how can I put this politely?”

Natasha snorted. 

“Carol’s a hoe.”

Bucky barked out a laugh and you shook your head. 

“I love her to death, but she’s had more girlfriends than any sane person should have.” “She’s very intelligent, but has the worst taste in women.”

You nodded at Natasha, making a face. 

“Remember Sharon?”

Natasha groaned. 

“She was the human equivalent of watching paint dry. But she was better than Jessica.”

You widened your eyes and nodded your head. 

“Jessica was batshit insane.” “Bobbi was normal.” “Now, I liked Bobbi.” “But ever since …”

Natasha let her sentence trail off and you sighed as you looked to Bucky. 

“Carol was in the Air Force. She met Maria and they fell in love. They were in a terrible plane crash and Carol even had amnesia for a while. I thought that was just a plot point for soap operas, but it’s real.” “And it’s awful.”

You nodded. 

“When she finally did get her memories back, we had to tell her that Maria died and it … god, it was horrible.”

Bucky shook his head and you met his eyes again. 

“We love Carol. We’ve been through a lot with her, and we’re kind of protective.”

Bucky smiled and nodded. Natasha let out a breath, then picked her story back up. 

“Then there’s my mom. Good luck with her.”

You giggled. 

“I love Aunt Nadia. She’s such a bad bitch.”

Natasha nodded, and you leaned forward. 

“And Uncle Phil is the greatest.”

Natasha rolled her eyes and you laughed. 

“He’s the polar opposite of Nat and Aunt Nadia, but it just works somehow.”

Natasha shook her head, turning back to Bucky. 

“Then there’s Y/N’s mom. The light of her world and all that.”

You elbowed Natasha before she could dodge it and she laughed as you took over the story. 

“Next is Aunt May, who’s Darcy’s mom. She also has Peter. Uncle Ben had a little brother, Peter’s dad, and when Peter’s parents died, Ben and May adopted Peter.”

Natasha glanced down and you sighed as you looked at your hands in your lap. 

“Uncle Ben died a few years ago. Cancer.” “God, I’m sorry.”

Bucky reached over to take your hand, and you smiled as you laced your fingers through his. You glanced through the window, then back to Bucky. 

“The baby of the family is Aunt Pepper. Her real name’s Virginia, and I honestly have no clue where the nickname Pepper came from.” “Mom said it’s because she was spicy as a kid.” “But Aunt May told me that once Pepper discovered the spice pepper, she ate a ton of it on all her food. And one day Papa said ‘that's enough pepper,’ and I think my mom thought he meant Pepper as a nickname and not the spice. Then they all started calling her Pepper after that.”

You and Natasha shrugged as you exchanged a look, and you turned back to Bucky. 

“Pepper’s married to Tony and they have little Morgan.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow and you smiled. 

“Pepper was sort of an unplanned surprise in the family, so she’s closer to our age than our moms’. Aunt May’s ten years older than her. And Pep and Tony had some issues getting pregnant, but they finally had Morgan.”

Bucky nodded, blowing out a breath. 

“That’s a lot.” “Oh, just wait until they’re all in the same room.”

You nodded at Natasha’s statement and Bucky leaned back in his seat. You smiled, kicking your foot out, your toes barely brushing his leg. He smiled when he looked to you and you smiled at him. Natasha slid over to the window, pulling her phone out and acting interested in it. Bucky leaned forward as you did and you let out a breath. 

“What are you thinking about, pretty girl?”

You sighed. 

“I don’t know. I’m nervous. I haven’t seen most of them since my wedding.” “Well, just from what you told me, it’s clear there’s a lot of love here.”

You nodded. 

“I’m just being stupid.” “You’re not stupid.”

You sighed, lifting your eyes to meet his. He took hold of your hands, giving you a soft smile. 

“If at any time you need a break or an escape or whatever, just look at me. I’ll get you out of there.” “But—“ “No buts. I don’t need to know the story, Y/N. If you need a minute to catch your breath, I’ll sneak you outside. No worries.”

You shook your head, a soft smile on your lips. 

“You’re too good to me, Bucky.”

He shook his head, staring at the top of yours when you glanced down at the hands he was still holding. 

“Well, what are friends for?”

The words tasted vile in his mouth, but the way you looked up and met his eyes, that soft smile on your lips almost made it worth it. 

Almost. 

TAGS: @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​​, @walkingchemicalfire​​, @eileenalone​​, @mrsalh32611​​, @alexxcorona113​​, @ivoryhazlewood​​, @chaoticfanatic​​, @rhapsody-in-flannel​​, @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall​​, @captainchrisstan​​, @ninaminaromina​​, @geeksareunique​​, @allsortsofinterests​​, @nerdy-bookworm-1998​​, @misplacedorphan​​, @chrisevansgirl​​, @whimsicalatbest​​, @buckybarneshairpullingkink​​, @isaxhorror​​, @redhairedfeistynerd​, @n3rdybird​, @the-ss-acklestan​, @moonlessnight14​, @geeksareunique​

[dramarising-replacement]

So I saw R from Nature was back and "quitting for good" soon TM because of her accents sale thread, and out of mild curiosity, glanced over her giveaway thread. It's so classic R, I can't even. Anyway, that was that and I went on my merry way to neglect FR for other pet sites for a while. I can't believe in that time she decided to stir up shit about an item description that's been there since like, the early days of the site (definitely since before she hiatus'd) for having a boob joke - especially when back in her day she had a pair of dragons glorifying domestic abuse and also was super proud of her *wink wink nudge nudge totally not about bondage* dragon in a harness accent. It's just so tiresome that she can't be on a site she's allegedly quitting forever for 3 seconds before trying to stir up shit.

Also honestly I can't help but feel like FR and dramarising have been so much more relaxing since she disappeared so I'm really hoping she just disappears back into the hole she crawled into in the first place.

[hms-chill]

Everything’s Bigger

@angelvies-blog requested angst, so I dug this out of my drafts. Merry Christmas?

Summary: Everything's bigger in Texas: Alex's smiles, pride parades, and gunshot wounds included

Trigger warnings for homophobia and gun violence

Chapter 1

When Henry steps off the plane, he's met with a wave of heat and a massive hug. He grins, breathing in Alex’s smell and enjoying being back together. When Alex pulls away, his grin stretches from ear to ear.

"Hello, love. I don't think I've seen you smile like this since we beat the girls at Chicken at the lake house."

"What can I say? It's Texas, baby. Everything's bigger." Henry just rolls his eyes and drags a suitcase toward the van that will take them downtown. They're on a float for Austin pride, and Alex is nearly vibrating with happiness. He loves bringing Henry to Texas no matter what the circumstance, but bringing Henry to Texas for pride feels even more special. They'd had to pull a puppet’s worth of strings for this to work, but he's here now, and they're together in Alex's hometown, stopping at his childhood home to get ready for the parade. At the house, Henry drops off his bags and unearths a t-shirt covered in photos of queer folks from Sappho to Tesla and beyond, a rainbow "History, huh?" in the middle, and Alex can barely believe they're actually dating. He's got a "Texas Proud" shirt, one with a bi pride Texas in the middle, and he's so excited he can hardly stand still. He's home, and Henry is with him, and they're going to pride.

Luckily, the energy downtown matches his. When they find their float, the people already there are buzzing, a mess of rainbows and sequins and celebration. Amy and Cash herd them into place, and the parade starts moving, carrying them past block after block of people overjoyed to celebrate who they are. They've got candy to throw and pride flags to wave, and Alex can't imagine anything better than the rainbow Austin lining the streets.

He's scanning the crowd, trying to smile and wave at everyone he can, when he sees it. He's moving and shouting immediately.

"Amy, green sweatshirt by the killer drag queen. Henry, get down!"

He's diving in front of Henry when he hears the gun go off. Once. Twice. Three times. Pain explodes across his shoulder as they tumble to the base of the float. It's only from two points. The third bullet went somewhere else.

Please don't have hit anyone else. Please don't fire into the crowd. Please don't let anyone else be hurt. Please let Amy get to him in time. Please let Henry be alright.

"Alex, Henry. This way." It's Cash, and Alex only has a moment to take stock of how Henry might be doing before they're both army crawling, careful to stay below the edges of the float. Cash hands them both caps, sunglasses, and dark shirts. Alex's shoulder screams as he pulls it over his head, but he doesn't have time to do anything more than wince before he's climbing off the float after Henry and Cash. It's still moving, but it's slow enough that they can climb off relatively easily, and Cash leads the way through the crowd.

It's chaos on the ground. The few people who see them get off the float seem to realize what's happening and try to hide them, but there's so many other things happening. If Henry wasn't holding his hand like their lives depend on it, Alex isn't sure they'd still be together. He'd probably have lost track of Henry and Cash. People around them are screaming, some trying to get out of the crowd and away. Alex tries his best to see if anyone is hurt, but he can't tell. They're moving too quickly, and the cocktail of panic and pain clouding his brain doesn't make it any easier. Henry is pulling him forward, and though he knows it's for the best, his shoulder hates it. Cash isn't running, but he is going quickly, leading them down back streets and to a dark van. They're all but shoved inside. Cash takes the wheel, and for the first time, Alex can really look atHenry.

"Are you okay? He... he was aiming for you; did he..."

"No; I'm fine. I'm not hurt; you... you protected me. What about you?"

"I'm fine. I'm..." the adrenaline wears off in a moment, leaving Alex with barely enough cognitive energy to gasp, "I'm not fine. Shoulder hurts. Can't... can't think. Head hurts; need... tired." He slumps into Henry's lap, and Henry has to slap a hand over his mouth to hide a scream.

"Cash? Cash, Alex... something's wrong. Alex, can you hear me? It's going to be okay. Oh god, Alex, you're bleeding. Cash, there's so much blood, what do I do?"

Cash swears. "Put pressure on it. We transfer vehicles and pick Amy up in one minute; she's got field medical knowledge."

Henry pulls off his extra shirt, balls it up, and presses it to the growing dark spot on Alex's shoulder as hard as he can. Alex groans.

"It's okay. It's... it's going... it's all going to be okay, Alex. It... it has to be okay. You're so brave. I love you so much. It's... you... you'll be okay."

The van stops, and Cash opens the door. Together, he and Henry get Alex out of the van. There's no room to lay him down inside the van they're moving to, so they lay Alex on a cot between the vehicles, secret service making a rough ring around them. Henry kneels down beside him while Amy takes over first aid.

"You did great, Henry. You did great. Alex, I'm sorry, but this is probably going to hurt."

"Henry? Where's... is Henry okay?"

"Alex, honey, I'm right here. I'm fine. You saved me," Henry says softly, pressing a kiss to Alex's cheek. He hears fabric tearing, then says, "Amy's getting your shirt off so she can see what's happening. She's going to fix you up; you're going to be okay. You're so brave."

His voice almost doesn't shake that time. Alex's eyes are mostly unfocused, but he seems a bit more relaxed.

"Do something to keep him quiet; this is going to hurt and he can't scream," Amy orders. She's switched into Navy SEAL mode, and that's somehow more comforting than any other mode could be. Henry presses a kiss to Alex's lips, trying not to think about how cold and clumsy they are as Alex tries to kiss him back.

He feels the exact moment Amy starts her operation, because Alex's face tenses under his hands, and the sloppy kiss turns into a scream. It tears out of him, so full of pain that it makes Henry want to cry. It's something so big and monstrous that Henry can only imagine that if it were allowed to escape, this scream would echo through his memory forever. More than that, it would echo through the streets forever, joining Sam Houston and the Lady in Red and the rest of Austin's ghosts in haunting the city until it atoned for its crimes.

But what comes next is worse. If Henry hadn't been kissing Alex, he would have heard the scream, but he wouldn't have felt the exact moment Alex goes limp. It happens in a split second. One moment, Alex is alive as anything, screaming in agony while tears run down his face. The next, his whole face has gone slack. Henry pulls away slowly to find glassy eyes and a vacant expression, tears slowly drying on Alex's cheeks. He's paler than he should be, and he's breathing, but it's ragged.

"Amy? Amy, he... he's..." Henry can barely get the words out past the Texas-sized lump in his throat. Maybe everything is bigger here after all.

"He passed out. That's good. Means this isn't hurting him; he won't feel it when I get the second one out."

"The second one?"

"He's got two bullet wounds. One bullet's out; working on the other. Then I'll sew him up, and that'll hurt like hell. It's best for everyone this way."

Henry nods, taking Alex's good hand. "Can... can I shut his eyes?"

"That would probably be best."

He leans forward to close Alex's eyes, pressing a kiss to his cheek and trying to keep it together. There's a hand on his shoulder, and he jumps, but turns to see that Shaan's appeared behind him. He almost cries in relief.

"I came as soon as I could. I'll be driving the second van, and Zahra's going to meet us at the safe house. We'll make sure everything is okay."

Henry just nods again, not trusting himself to speak. Amy drops the second bullet onto the ground next to the first, then says, "If the buckets are down, I can sew on the road."

Cash confirms that the bucket seats are down, leaving them with a flat surface in the back of the van for the cot. He comes to help lift it, and Henry absently picks up the bullets and puts them in a pocket. Alex might want them as a memorial when he wakes up. Shaan gives Henry's shoulder another squeeze, then climbs into the driver's seat while Henry sits on the floor beside Alex's head. He brushes back some of the hair that's fallen into Alex's face and tries not to panic.

"He seems normal. I'm going to start sewing him up; if he wakes up we can't have him scream."

Henry nods, trying not to watch as Amy sinks a needle into Alex's skin. There's not much else to look at, but he can see the sky moving along outside the van windows, so he focuses on that and tries not to panic. It feels like eons later that Amy announces, "I'm done; now it's a waiting game. We'll be at the safe house soon, and we... we can make a plan from there." She lets out a breath with the slightest shake to it, and for her, that feels like the equivalent of Henry's shaking hands and racing mind.

"I... thank you," Henry says. "I don't know what I would have done without you, I... I really don't. You saved his life."

"Not yet. I'm just worried... the guy said he wasn't alone. And it might have just been a stupid empty threat, but until we've looked into it, we... we can't take him to a hospital."

"It's... it'll be okay. They'll have whatever we need at the safe house, right?"

Amy nods, then sits up just enough to look out the window before announcing, "We should be there soon. I don't know how long it'll be, but we'll get word to your family that you're safe."

"I... I hadn't even thought of them. Bea will be so worried, and June... Will we be able to talk to them? I know it would help Bea, at least, and... and me, if I could just let her know I'm okay from me."

"We'll see what we can do."

Henry nods. There doesn't seem to be much else to do. The van moves on. The clouds outside still pass, and Alex still doesn't move. Henry alternates between brushing the hair out of his face and watching clouds pass, never letting go of his hand and trying desperately to stay calm. He wants to believe Alex is breathing more evenly now, that his skin is less clammy and he's getting better, but he's not sure. He's not sure about anything anymore.

On AO3

Notes: Sorry?

[thecooler]

today at work a kid in another group gave a jewish girl a merry chrismas card. I’ll call the Jewish kid “T” and the other girl “M” fr simplicity, but T was clearly trying to spare her feelings but didnt want the card, and so she tried to hand it off to her leader, and her leader was telling me after, once all the kids were gone, that she had basically told T that this was just M’s way of wishing her a happy holiday season, and she should accept the meaning behind it

and I was kinda :/ and returned that since T is surrounded by christianity and christmas constantly, it’s reasonable for her to be overwhelmed, and a more productive solution may have been to talk to M, individually, or as a group, about the concept of different holidays, because T shouldn’t be conditioned at the age of 6 to just accept that no one is going to think twice about respecting her beliefs

at which point another coworker of mine was like “well i think it depends- like, are jewish people rlly oppressed here?” and I was like “yes??”

and he went “what, in north america?”

which SUCKS because i get along rlly well with this coworker and i’ve never seen him be so dramatically ignorant to current events so it was rlly startling to me? i wanted to be like “are you blind???” like maybe my position as a perspective jewish convert has made me more sensitive to these sorts of things but it was just a very frustrating moment

[hovercraft79]

Winter Song

Ch 25 Carol of the Bells

Chapters: 25/31 Word Count: 5,228 Fandom: The Worst Witch (TV 2017) Rating: Teen Warnings: mentions alcoholism, bitterness, death. It’s based on A Christmas Carol, there’s some darkness there, y’all.

Summary: Hecate lets her fears and temper get the best of her, throwing her whole reconciliation with Pippa into jeopardy. Her father, and three spirits, help her set things right.

Notes: Write about a holiday myth or legend, you say? Plagiarize Charles Dickens, I say!  Sorry about all the angst that comes with that.

While not exactly a myth or legend, once this idea took hold, I couldn’t shake it. Certainly, a great debt is owed to the original – but an even greater debt is owed to the Palazzo young reader’s edition of A Christmas Carol that was abridged by Juliet Stanley. It’s well done and beautifully illustrated if you’ve got a young reader of your very own and would like to start a new tradition.

Trans-Siberian Orchestra does my all-time favorite version of this song.

Sparky returns from her holiday travels today. We can all rejoice.

This particular fic was written over a 24-hour time period – like, I haven’t slept in a hideous length of time, even for me. Please, if you spot any errors, be forgiving, but let me know. Thanks!

Hecate stared at her reflection in the mirror. The connection was dead, and she knew it. She’d cut the call herself and she wasn’t sad about that. She didn’t want to see any more of Pippa’s hurt, angry expression.

Their connection was dead, and she knew that, too. Dead by her own hand. Again. Exhaustion and worry had turned into cross words, a scolding for being so careless, a rejected invitation. Her own fears of losing Pippa morphed into a rigid silence guaranteed to push Pippa away. Again. This time, her own anger met with an equally angry Pippa. She would not allow herself to be sad about that.

Let their friendship be dead.

Just as it had been for most of the last thirty years.

It hurt less that way.

Hecate knew she was a difficult, uncompromising, and unsocial witch. She’d been described as cold many times in her life - was neither the first, nor likely the last. There was so much cold inside her it nipped her nose, hollowed her cheeks, stiffened her walk, made her lips purse and her voice icy. She knew the day the Founding Stone failed was not the only day she’d been frozen.

Nobody ever stopped her in the street to say, ‘Hello, Miss Hardbroom! How are you?’ No children asked her to tuck them in at night and no one ever asked Hecate to their birthday celebrations. But Hecate cared nothing about what others thought of her.

Hecate stood and moved to the window. It was a freezing, foggy Christmas Eve and she had work to do. She’d idled enough time away pretending she could be anything that made Pippa Pentangle’s life better. It was dark already, even though it was only a little after three o’clock. The fog was so dense that the trees of the forest looked like ghosts.

She needed to inventory the contents of her ingredient cupboard. Today seemed as good a time as any. She chose to walk instead of transfer, in the hopes that she would burn off some restless energy. She hoped the corridors would be empty. She did not get her wish.

“Merry Christmas, HB!” cried Dimity Drill, cheerfully falling into step beside Hecate. She’d obviously just flown in from somewhere – the frosty flight had given her a healthy, warm glow.

“What right do you have to be merry?” Hecate huffed. “You’re here.”

“What right do you have to be miserable?” Dimity grinned. “I’m only here for a bit.”

Hecate couldn’t come up with an answer, so she said, “Bats! And humbugs.”

“Don’t be cross, Hecate! It’s Christmas!”

“What else can I be,” returned Hecate, “when I live in such a stupid world. What’s Christmas when the Craft is in decline? When you have no fr—when you find yourself another year older but no better for it? If I had my way, I’d hex everyone who wished me a Merry Christmas.” She stopped and turned to face Dimity. “What good has Christmas ever done you?”

Dimity started to respond with a cutting, sarcastic remark, but the haunted look in Hecate’s eyes gave her pause. Something’s happened, she thought, and she’d bet her best broom that whatever it was, it involved a certain witch with a penchant for pink. “It’s the only time I know of when people seem to open up their hearts. So, Hecate, although it has never put money in my pocket, or a trophy on my mantel, I believe that it has done me good, and it will always do me good.” She placed a firm hand on Hecate’s elbow. “I don’t know what’s wrong, Hecate, but don’t be angry. Come and have dinner with us tomorrow.”

“Goodbye, Miss Drill,” Hecate said, pulling away.

“Please come? Mum would love to see you. She still natters on about you helping to make all those cookies.”

“Goodbye,” said Hecate.

“Very well,” said Dimity, relenting. “Goodbye, Hecate, and Merry Christmas.”

Hecate transferred the rest of the way to her potions lab.

****

Hours later and Hecate’s mood had only darkened. Somehow, she’d allowed her potions stores to become recklessly low – even to the point of not being able to make commonly used remedies. Clearly, she had allowed Pippa Pentangle to become a distraction. Well, no more. Back to business as usual.

She flicked her wrist and the door to the ingredient cupboard closed and locked behind her. Flipping open her pocket watch, Hecate decided a quick bite from the kitchens would be her best option for the evening meal. Making her way to the door of the potions lab, she reached for the knob, drawing back sharply when she saw her father’s face.

Startled, Hecate cast an illumination spell, looking closely, however, she saw nothing but the normal knob. No face, no shadows…just a regular doorknob. Shaking her head, Hecate dismissed it as the result of being overemotional and overtired. She transferred to the kitchens and made a cold sandwich from some leftover roast and heated a bowl of nettle soup.

Once she finished, Hecate decided to make the long walk back to her rooms, hoping the empty corridors would provide some soothing familiarity for her jangled nerves. Unable to help herself, she checked each doorknob she passed. Every knob seemed its usual configuration. “Bats!” she spat, as she made her way to her rooms.

Arriving in her quarters, she closed the door with a bang. Remembering her father’s face on the doorknob, Hecate checked her rooms. She went through the sitting room. Nobody was under the table or the sofa. She inspected the bedroom. No one was in the cupboard, under the bed, or in her dressing gown.

Satisfied, Hecate got ready for bed and sat in front of the fire to read. She couldn’t concentrate, though, and found herself gazing absently into the flames, Pippa refusing to leave her thoughts. As Hecate stared, each tile around her fireplace filled with her dead father’s face. Almost at once, she heard the tinkling of a bell, much like the one she used to call time during lessons. Soon, bells all over Cackle’s were ringing.

Hecate had no idea how long the ringing lasted, but it felt like forever. Then it stopped. In the silence, Hecate heard a clanking noise coming from the old dungeons. It sounded as though someone was dragging a heavy chain across the stone floor. She could hear the noise getting closer and closer, until it sounded as though it was right outside her door.

“Bats and humbugs!” She said. “It’s just my imagination.”

Her color changed, though, when the door to her room flew open and in walked her father’s ghost. The room took on a chill, despite the roaring fire.

“W-who are you?” Hecate stammered.

“You know who I am, Daughter. Why do you doubt your senses?”

“Because,” said Hecate, “a stomach upset affects them. You may be an undigested bit of beef, or a piece of undercooked potato. You’re more gravy than grave, I think.” Hecate may have sounded brave, but she was trying to control her terror. The spirit of her father disturbed her down to her bones.

“Why are you here? Father?” Hecate asked.

Her father’s ghost stepped closer. “Anyone who does not share their spirit in life is doomed to wander through the world in death and witness what they might have shared on earth and turned into happiness.”

“But… the chains?”

“I wear the chain I made for myself in life, Daughter. You are making your own chains now.”

Hecate glanced down at her dressing gown, expecting to see chains, but none were there.

“Every withheld kindness, every rejected opportunity to connect with another… My spirit never left the confines of books and the Code and now… a weary journey lies before me. I would spare you that journey.”

“I’ve always followed the Code. I –”

“You will be haunted,” her father’s ghost interrupted, “by three spirits. Without their visits, you cannot avoid the same fate as mine. Expect the first one soon. For your own sake, Daughter, remember what I have said.”

Then, the ghost moved towards the window and it opened wide. Hecate followed. She heard confused noises in the air – the sounds of sadness, regret and pain. The ghost joined the choir and floated out into the night.

Hecate slammed the window shut and hurried to her bed. She magicked every light on and crawled under the blankets, falling asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

****

When Hecate awoke, the room was so dark she could hardly see. The clock chimed midnight, though she knew it had been later than that when she went to bed. She felt groggy, knowing she couldn’t have slept through an entire day and into another night. She tried to remember the visit from her father’s ghost. It couldn’t have been real, could it?

When a bell struck one, the lights flashed on and off again and her bedroom door flew open. Hecate found herself face to face with another spirit.

Long, white hair framed a youthful face. A girl, Hecate thought, looking closer. Her arms and legs were bare, and she wore a tunic the color of her old Amulet’s Academy uniform. In one hand she held a fresh, green holly branch, in the other, a bundle of fresh herbs.

“Are you the spirit Father warned me about?” asked Hecate.

“I am,” the ghost replied, sounding very far away. “I am the Ghost of Christmas Past.” The ghost was holding a witch’s hat, but it was a crushed, moth-eaten thing, worse than Mildred Hubble’s hat ever was. “You don’t care for my hat? It was made by the behavior of people like you. I’m forced to wear it year after year.”

“I’m sorry,” Hecate whispered. “Why are you here?”

“To save you from yourself, of course,” she said, clasping Hecate’s arm gently. “Come with me.”

Hecate found herself transferred to the middle of a snow-filled courtyard. To their left, Hecate could see a group of girls in high spirits, laughing and playing together. Her muscles tensed. She recognized them at once: Agnes Monkshood, Piety Pendragon, Rosalyn Thornspike and the rest of her form.

“It’s end of term, though the school is not quite deserted,” said the ghost. “A lonely child, neglected by the others, is still there.”

“I know,” Hecate said, scrubbing a tear from her face. They walked to the school, entering a door in the back. There, in a long, bare room filled with desks, sat a lone girl with long, dark hair, reading. Hecate stiffened at the sight of her poor, forgotten self.

Suddenly, a vivacious blonde girl wearing a pink coat over her uniform, burst into the room. “That’s Pippa!” Hecate called out happily. “She was my friend.” Hecate smiled broadly as she watched her younger self be pulled out into the courtyard to join in with the others, Pippa’s hand never letting go.

“Let’s see another Christmas,” the ghost said, smiling.

Hecate’s former self grew larger, but there she was, alone again, when all the other girls had gone home for the holidays. She wasn’t reading now but looking nervously out of the window. Again, the door burst open. This time, a teenaged Pippa Pentangle darted in, flung her arms around her neck and kissed her on the cheek.

“If he doesn’t come, you really must come home with me, Hiccup! We can be together for Solstice and Yule and Christmas and we’ll have the happiest time in the world.” Pippa twirled around the room. “It will be fabulous!”

“She’s always had a large heart,” Hecate said fondly. She remembered their quarrel earlier today? Or yesterday? Shaking her head, Hecate murmured, “I’ll never understand what she saw in me.”

“Time grows short,” observed the spirit. “Come quickly!” Suddenly, they were in the Great Hall at Amulet’s Academy. Dozens of trees dripping with fairy lights lined the walls. The night sky twinkled against the ceiling while magical snow flurries filled the air. Hecate recognized it at once:  The Winter Ball of her final year at Amulet’s.

Soon, music filled the room and the girls began streaming in to the celebration. They talked and hugged and danced and laughed. There was cake, cold roast, mince pies and plenty of hibiscus punch. Hecate watched as the girls enjoyed themselves, looking for a familiar flash of golden hair.

There! Hecate spotted them, in the prime of life. Pippa was beyond radiant. Her own face lacked the rigid lines that appeared over the years, but she already showed signs of worry and stress. In an instant, they were closer, and Hecate could see the hurt in Pippa’s eyes.

“But… Hiccup? We’re already here? You look beautiful, darling. Who cares what those other girls think?” Pippa frowned at the girls behind them. “Will you at least dance with me once? We’ve been practicing all term.”

“Pippa…I can’t…” Hecate watched her younger self, willing her to change history. To be brave for Pippa. “You don’t understand…”

“I don’t. I’m here. Those other girls don’t matter to me. At all. I don’t understand why they matter to you.” She stepped closer. “I’ve always been happy with you, Hiccup.” A crowd of girls spotted them and began calling Pippa’s name. She waved them off and stepped closer to Hecate. “I’m here with you, Hiccup. You.”

“That’s just it, Pipsqueak. You should be here with them.”

“But…” Pippa trailed off as Hecate exercised her new-found skill at transferring. “But I love you, Hiccup.”

Hecate clapped her hands over her mouth, stifling a gasp. Pippa had loved her. Months before she’d derailed their lives by abandoning her at the broomstick waterski display, Pippa had loved her. “Spirit!” said Hecate in a broken voice. “Remove me from this place.”

Hecate found herself alone in her bedroom once again, every light ablaze. Sobbing, she flung herself into bed, soon sinking into a deep sleep.

****

When Hecate awoke, it was nearly one o’clock. She opened her bedroom door this time, so she wouldn’t be taken by surprise. Then she waited. And waited. Her stomach twisted in on itself as nothing happened. She turned and opened the window, leaning out into the cold air, still seeing no one.

Turning back into the room, Hecate noticed a strange light coming from the next room and a strange voice was calling her name. She stepped into her living room and saw that the walls and ceiling were covered in winter greenery and a mighty fire roared in the hearth. Her sofa and chairs were gone. In their place stood a large table, laden with a rich feast of meats, cakes, fruits and steaming bowls of wine. At the head of the table sat a jolly giant of a man. The man wore a loose green robe trimmed in white fur; on his head rested a crown of holly. His feet were bare and, in his hand, he carried a glowing torch.

“Well met, Spirit,” Hecate said, hand on her forehead.

“I am the Ghost of Christmas Present,” smiled the spirit. “Touch my robe!”

Hecate did as she was told. Everything disappeared, and they stood on the snow-filled city street on Christmas morning. It was still cold and gloomy, but the people bustling about were cheerful, calling out to one another as they hurried to their destinations.

The spirit led Hecate through the city and straight to Mildred Hubble’s flat. Hecate could see that Julie Hubble had followed her instructions to the letter. A slim Yule tree stood in front of the patio door, a handful of presents arranged underneath. The candles danced brightly from their place in the Yule log. An evergreen wreath hung on the door.

Mildred sat on the floor, working on her potions notebook. Hecate frowned. On Christmas Day? Why wasn’t she opening packages?

“Millie!” Julie placed a platter of pancakes in the center of the table. “Put your schoolwork away, love. It’s Christmas.”

“But, Mum… I have to get caught up. I’m tired of being the worst witch at Cackle’s.”

“Worst witch? How can you say that, love? You’ve saved that school more times… And you are from a witching family. You’re nowhere near the worst witch.”

“I wish Miss Hardbroom thought so.”

“Don’t you worry about what old lady Hardbroom thinks about you, love. She’s not as perfect as she thinks she is.”

“But –”

“No buts, love.” Julie tapped the back of the chair with her spatula. “Now come get your pancakes before they get cold.”

Mildred sighed and closed her notebook. Flopping into her chair, she picked up the bay leaf that sat in the middle of her plate. “What’s this for?”

“It’s a tradition of some witching families.” She pulled out a marker and handed it to Mildred. “We write a wish on the leaf and then burn it to release the wish. I thought it sounded like a lovely tradition.”

Mildred took the marker, thought for a moment and then carefully wrote her wish on the leaf. Julie took the marker and did the same.

“Can I light it?” Mildred asked, pointing at the bowl Julie put between them.

“Certainly.” She started to hand Mildred a lighter but put it down when she saw her daughter casting a spell. In seconds, both leaves were burning, filling the kitchen with fragrance. “What was your wish, Millie-Bear?”

Mildred shrugged and started spreading butter on her pancake. “I wished that Miss Hardbroom didn’t hate me so much.”

“I don’t hate you, Mildred!” Hecate dropped to her knees next to Mildred’s chair. “I’ve never hated you.” Hecate turned to look at the spirit. “Does she truly believe I hate her, Spirit?”

“Unless something changes, the child will carry the feelings of isolation and inadequacy for all her days,” replied the ghost. “The Craft is in decline.”

Hecate winced upon hearing her own words turned back on to Mildred. “You are not the worst witch, Mildred Hubble. You are clever and resourceful and kind…” Everything she’d always considered Pippa Pentangle to be, she realized.

The spirit stepped closer, holding out an arm. Hecate nodded and climbed to her feet, clutching at his robe.

They appeared on the porch of a stone cottage. Warm light glowed through the windows, flooding into the garden along with the sounds of music and laughter. One laugh carried over the rest and Hecate recognized it immediately.

“She said she’d hex anybody that wished her Merry Christmas, if she could!” cried Dimity Drill, “and I think she would, too.”

A young man Hecate recognized as Dimity’s brother handed her a mug of wassail. “I don’t know how you put up with her, Dim-bulb.”

“Oi!” Dimity playfully punched him in the arm. “Actually, I like the old crone. A lot. I feel sorry for her, though. I couldn’t be angry with her if I tried.” Her brother scoffed at the idea. “S’true! She’s the one who suffers the most because of her attitude. That’s why I will always give her the same chance every year, whether she likes it or not. I just wish she’d pull the broomstick out of her arse long enough to realize she has friends – and a beautiful woman that’s head over heels for her.”

“Sounds like that woman is you, Sis!” her brother teased.

“You’re who needs a bloody hexing,” Dimity muttered, flicking a blob of magic into his wassail and causing it to splash all over his holiday sweater. “But I reckon if HB doesn’t figure things out soon, she’s gonna lose Pentangle all over again.”

“Wait!” Dimity’s brother shook his head. “They were dating? The glamor girl and Mistress of the Night?”

“Don’t call her that,” Dimity said, punching him again. “I don’t know what they were, but they were definitely something. And neither one of them ever got over it.”

After dinner, the spirit took Hecate to visit sick beds, and foreign lands, struggling people and poverty-stricken families – and all these places were rich with hope, friendliness, patience and love. Their last stop found Hecate standing in very familiar territory: Pippa’s rooms at Pentangle’s. She expected to find Pippa with her family, or singing along to modern Christmas music, or at the very least enjoying a quiet evening with friends.

She didn’t expect to see Pippa curled in a chair, wearing the purple sweater Hecate had loaned her weeks ago, her tear-streaked face glistening in the firelight. Hecate stepped closer. “Pipsqueak?” A tumbler of Witch’s Brew rested on her knee. Hecate tried to pry it from her grip, but her own fingers passed right through it. “Please don’t cry. I’m sorry I was cross.” She looked around Pippa’s living room. Everything was a tasteful mix of pinks and blacks. Hecate saw her name embroidered on one of the stockings hanging from the mantel. Why couldn’t she just say ‘yes’ when Pippa had asked her to come for Christmas? “I’m sorry I was so me, Pipsqueak. You’ve always deserved more than I’ve given you.” She glanced down, seeing her signature prominently displayed on Pippa’s cast. It was still the only one there. “Please, Pippa… I’ll make it up…” She couldn’t even finish the thought. How do you make up skipping your first Christmas together in over thirty years? Hecate scrambled backwards as Pippa shoved herself to her feet.

“Merry Christmas, Hiccup. Maybe next year.” Pippa took a long gulp from the tumbler then threw what was left into the fireplace, unflinching in the face of the flareup. Without another word, she summoned her crutches and made her way to her bedroom.

“I didn’t…” Hecate turned to the spirit.

“Shall I wait while you hex her?”

A bell began to chime.

****

Hecate hardly had a chance to get her bearings before another phantom slowly and silently approached. She could see no face, no features. Everything was hidden under a black cloak, save one outstretched hand. The spirit’s mere presence filled Hecate with dread.

“W-well met, Spirit. Are you the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Be?” Hecate pressed her hands against her thighs. “You are the spectre I fear above all others.”

The spirit said nothing. Its hand pointed straight out in front of them, but Hecate understood.

“Lead on, then,” Hecate said, resolutely determined to see tonight through.

The village seemed to spring up around them, the same but also different. Hecate found herself standing among a cluster of wizards and witches.

“No,” said a great fat wizard with a massive chin, “I don’t know much about it. I only know that she’s dead.”

“When did she die?” asked another.

“Last night, I think,” said another. “The funeral rites ought to be interesting.”

The crowd strolled away, and while Hecate hoped the spirit would explain, the spirit only pointed at two women. Hecate knew these women.

“Do you think she finally drank herself to death?” Dimity asked. “I don’t know how she lasted as long as she did.”

Marigold Mould shook her head. “I hope not. Do you think she knows yet?” Dimity shrugged her shoulders and hurried on through the cold.

They left the busy scene and went to a part of town Hecate had never been before. She knew it by reputation, though. The narrow streets were filled with crime and misery. As they watched, a lorry pulled up, boxes stacked haphazardly in the back. A dark-haired wizard came out of one of the shops.

“I didn’t think you’d be back with the goods this soon!”

“Well, when you don’t have any heirs fighting over yer ev’ry last button, it don’t take too long.”

The dark-haired wizard opened one of the boxes and had a look at what was inside. He offered a small sum of money for the lot.

Hecate shuddered. “Is the dead witch me, Spirit?” Suddenly, she was standing in a morgue, a sheet-covered body on a table before her. Hecate glanced at the phantom. Its steady hand pointed to the body. Hecate could easily have pulled the sheet away, revealing the face. But she couldn’t do it.  “Please, can we leave this horrible place? Surely, someone is affected by this woman’s death.”

The phantom spread its dark robe and Hecate found herself in the middle of a launderette. Puzzled, Hecate studied the people inside. Who spent Christmas Day in a launderette? No one looked familiar, in fact, everyone seemed to be Ordinary. She was beginning to wonder if the spirit had made a mistake when she felt a slight prickle of magic on the back of her neck. She spun around and came face to face with Mildred Hubble.

Sort of.

Mildred stood outside the launderette, paintbrush in hand, as she repaired the painted window murals. Hecate couldn’t help but smile, even if she didn’t understand why Mildred was here, of all places. She found herself on the other side of the glass, examining the woman that Mildred had grown into.

Her clothes were well-worn, barely above ragged. In her thirties, Hecate guessed. She looked angry, her expression bitter and pinched. In the space of a heartbeat, Maud Spellbody appeared by her side.

“Millie! Your mum told me you’d be here.” Maud waited for Mildred to respond in some way. When she continued painting a snowman, Maud doggedly kept on talking. “Have you heard?”

“I’ve heard. Mum told me.” She finally dropped the brush to her side and looked at Maud. “What’s that got to do with me? You know I left the magic world. I do this now.”

“NO!” Hecate looked from Maud to Mildred and back again. “Left? How on earth did that happen?”

“I know. But I know you have to feel something, Millie. Even if it’s been a while.”

“It hasn’t been long enough,” Mildred snorted, taking up her paintbrush again. “You know I was never really a part of that world.  HB told us all often enough.” She stepped up on a stool so that she could reach the top of the painting. “I have to work, Maud.”

“She left.” Hecate said, confused. “Why did you leave, Mildred Hubble? WHY?” Of course, Mildred didn’t answer.

Hecate turned to the spirit and found herself standing in the middle of a churchyard. The spirit pointed to one of the graves.

Dozens of witches and wizards in formal robes crowded around the grave. “Oh! See Spirit? People remembered. I was mourned!” Hecate pressed through the crowd, trying to see who had come. It didn’t take her long to realize that she didn’t recognize anyone.

“It’s a shame, isn’t it?” an older witch said. “She died all alone, heartbroken.”

“No heirs, no living family at all,” said another. “I heard she spent her entire life pining away for some mysterious lost love.”

“Pathetic.”

“It wasn’t pathetic!” Hecate shouted. “I never stopped loving her…” Hecate pushed through the crowd, still trying to hear everything being said about the woman in the grave.

“Drunk herself to death is what I heard, not that you could ever tell.” A sorrowful young wizard shook his head. “I never would have guessed it at school.”

Hecate froze. She every cell in her body turned to ice – it burned far more than it did when the Founding Stone died. Cackle’s didn’t allow boys. Hecate staggered to the front of the crowd, finally breaking through, the phantom back at her side.

The ghost said nothing and only pointed down at the grave. Following the finger, Hecate looked down at the headstone and read the inscription: PIPPA PENTANGLE.

“No… NO…” Hecate dropped to her knees, stomach churning. “Spirit, are these shadows of things that will be, or of things that only may be?” She clutched at the phantom’s robe. “I swear, I am not the witch I was before… I can change… I will change… I-I will value my friends, Spirit. I will tell her how I feel. I swear I will live a better life!”

But as Hecate clung to the phantom’s cloak, it shrank, collapsed, and dwindled down into a pillow.

****

Hecate saw that the pillow was her own. That the bed she was in was her own. In her own room. She scrambled out of bed. “I promise I will change,” she rasped. She was so hot and aflutter with good intention, and she had been sobbing so much as she had pleaded with the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Be, that her broken voice could barely make a sound.

She raced through her quarters, eyes darting everywhere. Her things were still there. Her books still sat on the shelves. Her tea set still sat on the table. She spun around. Pippa’s snow globe still sat on the mantel.

Pippa.

Hecate ran back to her bedroom. As she hurried to dress, Hecate laughed and cried to herself. She turned her clothes inside out, then put them on back to front, forgetting she could simply magic herself dressed.

“No matter,” she said, rapping on her vanity mirror with her knuckles. “Dimity! Dimity Drill! Are you there?” She knocked impatiently until a half-asleep sports witch appeared on the other side.

“Bloody hell, HB, what do you want?”

Hecate sat up, suddenly afraid she was too late. “What day is it?”

“Are you kidding me? It’s Christmas Day, you batty old crone! What do you want?” Dimity tried opening her eyes wide, but she just couldn’t keep them that way.

“I’m not too late, then. May I still come for Christmas?”

“What?” That jarred Dimity into wakefulness. “Why?”

“I want to celebrate with my friends. Please, may I come? I’ll bring food.”

“Yeah, yeah, you can come,” Dimity said, rubbing her eyes. “Why the sudden change of heart?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Hecate bit her lip, working up the nerve to ask her next question. Dimity noticed.

“What else do you want?” she asked.

“Is it all right if I bring a guest?” Hecate waited, rocking back and forth slightly in her excitement.

“If I say yes, can I go back to sleep?” Dimity waved her hand at the mirror. “Whatever, HB. Yes, bring whoever you want.” And with that she closed the connection.

Hecate stared at her refection in the glass. The connection might be dead, she thought, but all it takes is a moment to make another one. Their connection was not dead.

It hadn’t been, not even over the last thirty years.

Their friendship would survive. Thrive, even.

It hurt too much to think of it any other way.

Hecate took a deep, steadying breath before tapping the glass. “Pippa Pentangle,” she said, clearly and calmly. Faster than she thought, Pippa was there. “Pipsqueak… I’m sorry…”

“Hiccup? Is that you? You look like a jumble sale.”

“That’s the one place I haven’t been tonight, actually,” Hecate grinned. “I wanted to… I know we quarreled, and it was my fault… but I wonder –”

Pippa held her hand up to the glass. “Yes. Whatever it is you’re about to ask, yes.”

Hecate placed her hand on the glass against Pippa’s. “I want to spend Christmas with you, Pipsqueak, if you will.”

Pippa’s response was drowned out by the sound of church bells ringing in the village below, so she nodded.  Vigorously. “Happy Christmas!” she said once they stopped.

“Happy Christmas, Pippa, and may the spirits bless us, everyone.”