#sledding with the marauders | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

just-here-with-my-thoughts · 6 months

Text

A Cosy Bed: A Stardust Conspiracy Fanfic

A Bad Batch Fanfic ~4575 words Click here to read on AO3 Content: Space Hamsters, Snowball Fights, Brotherly Fluff, Crosshair to the rescue The Batch have grown very attached to their newest and smallest member; Omega's pet hamster. But escapology isn't the criceto's only skill... Can Omega keep her brothers from finding out what Stardust has done this time - and can she undo the damage caused?

With thanks to @kybercrystals94 for giving me your blessing to write a story with your character Stardust! If you haven't read kyber's fun fic about the chaos that ensues when the Batch get a pet hamster yet, you should go check it out Here. It's been so much fun swopping stories about our real-life hamster woes and turning them into fanfics!

“Omega, the planet we are landing on has a very frigid climate. The ambient temperature inside the Marauder is likely to drop, which may trigger a hibernation response in the criceto species. Make sure that Stardust has plenty of insulating bedding materials available, as she is likely to want additional warmth in her nest.”

“Sure thing, Tech,” chirped Omega, poking a finger into the cage to wave at Stardust. The criceto blinked sleepily as she waddled from her nest to the food bowl, checking for uneaten seeds.

Wrecker had lifted Stardust’s cage up into the gunner’s mount so that Omega could play with the criceto in her ‘bedroom’ whilst the others planned for the mission planet-side. Omega bounced Lula on her knees, making the stuffed tooka toy wave at Stardust too.

“You’ll keep an eye on Stardust whilst we’re gone, won’t you Lula?” Omega chatted to herself. “Don’t worry, Stardust,” and she tipped a whole mountain of additional seeds into the bowl right before the stunned criceto’s nose, “I’ll make sure you have plenty of food and water, and we won’t even be gone that long!”

The criceto scrubbed her little paws over her whiskers, then started stuffing her cheek pouches full of the new bounty which had appeared before her.

There was a gentle tremor as the Marauder settled on the ground. Omega looked up as Echo entered the bunk area with a groan.

“There’s snow everywhere,” the cyborg clone lamented to no-one in particular. “My joints are going to freeze.”

“There’s snow?” Omega exclaimed. In a flash she was bouncing in front of Echo, hands clasped before her in excitement. “Real snow, Echo? I’ve never seen real snow! Can I go outside? Can I see it now?”

“Not until you wrap up warm.” That was Hunter, smiling as he followed Echo to the bunks. He shed his scarf, draping the striped material over Omega’s shoulders and wrapping it round and round until it smothered her up to her nose. Omega giggled. “Nearly done,” said Hunter, reaching into an overhead locker and pulling out a box of cold-weather gear. He dug around until he found a thick pair of gloves, far too big for Omega’s hands but he popped them on her anyway, then swaddled her further in a thick coat with a fur-trimmed hood.

“Now can I go out?” asked Omega, her voice muffled behind the layers of fabric.

“Sure thing, kid,” Hunter grinned, and Omega skipped off happily.

“Are you going to wrap me up like that?” asked Echo, earning a snort of laughter from Hunter.

“Not a chance,” he teased as he retrieved his own thick coat from the crate. Wrecker appeared and started pulling on hat and gloves too.

Lula slumped, forgotten, against the side of Stardust’s cage.

The mission was unexpectedly easy; no-one else was here to challenge them about retrieving the cache. Because no-one else was mad enough to be out in this cold, was Echo’s frequently-voiced opinion. And whilst Hunter groused about their preparations going to waste, he was smiling inside his furred hood – they were all glad of an easy win for once.

Dragging the cache back to the ship on the makeshift sled shouldn’t have taken long, except Wrecker kept dropping the cable to gather up handfuls of snow to throw at his brothers. He was kind enough to leave Echo alone – the reg was struggling with the cold and his cybernetic implants – but Tech’s indignant squark when the icy mush slithered down the back of his neck and beneath his armour only spurred Wrecker to greater mischief. Before long he, Tech and Hunter were engaged in full-blown snowball warfare.

Omega, hiding behind the sled, was in helpless giggles. Whenever she got the chance she popped up the hurl another snowball into the fray. Wrecker eventually wised to her ambushes and tackled her into the snow, then let her ride on his shoulders the rest of the way back.

Back at the Marauder everyone was stamping feet and rubbing hands to try and warm them whilst they clamoured over each other with plans for the evening. Echo grumbled at having his prosthetics checked, saying the Marauder was so cold he’d rather run the risk of frostbite to his stumps than strip off and inspect them. Tech forced him to anyway, and Omega piled every blanket on the ship onto Echo’s shoulders as he sat and shivered whilst his thighs were examined. Then she ran to the galley and clambered up to retrieve Wrecker’s stash of chocolate powder, mixing watery hot chocolate drinks for everyone.

Tech had the Marauder in the air and the cabin was finally warming with the roar of the engines before Omega remembered Stardust. She left Hunter, Wrecker and Tech in the cockpit, darting past Echo on his bunk to climb into her gunner’s nest and peek into the criceto cage.

Her distressed squeak immediately summoned Echo.

“What’s wrong, Omega?” he asked, peering up with concern.

Omega stared at Stardust’s cage with both hands clamped over her mouth, eyes wide with panic. Slowly she turned to fix Echo with a wretched look, pointing a trembling finger at the corner where the criceto nested.

“Stardust isn’t dead,” Echo reassured her quickly, a flash of worry in his own eyes. “If she’s not moving it’ll be because she’s in a deep sleep, hibernating, just like Tech said!”

But he had misinterpreted Omega’s alarm.

“It’s Lula,” Omega whispered, voice cracking from behind her fingers.

Lula was still leant up against the side of the hamster cage. Echo climbed another step up the ladder to look more closely, first at the lopsided toy, then at the shreds of red fabric surrounding the sleeping criceto. The nest made warm and fluffy with toy stuffing…

“Stardust ate Lula’s ear!” Omega’s voice was a frightened whisper. “I forgot to put extra bedding in there, and she chewed up Lula’s ear and Wrecker is going to kill me…”

“Hey, hey,” soothed Echo, boosting himself the rest of the way into the gunner’s mount and curling his left arm round Omega’s shoulders. He reached past her with his scomp, nudging Lula away from the cage, inspecting the damage.

“She’s ruined,” said Omega, voice breaking on a sob. Echo squeezed her tightly.

“No she’s not,” he reassured her, pulling the tattered toy into Omega’s lap. “Look, it’s not that bad really. I’m sure we can repair the damage, and Lula will look good as new.”

“I don’t know how,” his little sister wailed.

“Leave it to me,” Echo told her with a smile.

Omega’s cry had alerted Tech, who now appeared at the ladder to her small room.

“What is the matter?” the engineer asked, sticking his head into the now-crowded gunner’s mount. “Is Stardust well?”

Echo quickly moved Lula out of sight. “Stardust is fine,” he said to save Omega from answering. “Omega was just startled by… uh… how still she looked. In hibernation, just like you said.”

“Ah.” Tech nodded sagely. “Never fear, Omega. Once the ambient temperature starts to increase, Stardust will naturally awaken from her slumber.” He peered at the girl’s worried face and adjusted his goggles. “Would you like me to check on her, just in case?”

“No!” said Omega, far too quickly and a little too loudly. Her cheeks flushed guiltily. “No, it’s fine Tech,” she managed in a more normal tone. “Echo made me feel lots better about it.”

“Very well.” Tech climbed back down, flashing Omega one of his rare smiles. “If you do require any further information about the habits of the criceto, I am more than happy for us to work on our joint research project together.”

“C’mon, we should head down too,” Echo said, nudging Omega towards the ladder. He paused, then grabbed Omega’s blanket and threw it over the cage. “For extra warmth,” he told her. “Certainly not to hide anything.” He gave her a sympathetic smile, and tucked Lula’s mutilated body under the blanket and out of sight.

“How are we going to fix her, Echo?” Omega asked as she descended. Her brown eyes shone as she gazed up at him, desperation written on her young face.

“Don’t worry,” he smiled. “I’m going to make a call. You should help Hunter prep evening meal. You know he doesn’t like you skipping out on your chores to play with Stardust.”

Wondering what Echo had planned, Omega moped off to find Hunter. She was withdrawn as she helped with dinner, prompting him to ask what was up.

“Come on, ‘Mega,” he said with a gruff smile, knocking his shoulder gently into hers. “You can tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” she said, feeling the cold weight of guilt settle in her stomach. “I’m just…”

“Worried about Stardust?” asked Hunter kindly. “Tech told me she’s hibernating. You don’t need to worry, kid. Your little criceto will be just fine, and she’ll wake back up before you know it.”

“Yeah,” said Omega morosely, fretting about how she was piling lies on top of lies to hide her mistake.

The boys were in high spirits during the meal, celebrating the mission gone off without a hitch, but Omega poked at her food without appetite. She was so subdued that after dinner Tech insisted on taking her temperature in case she had come down with a cold after playing in the snow, and Hunter was the picture of concern hovering over Tech’s shoulder asking about the results.

“I’m fine,” Omega insisted, cheeks going pink from the embarrassment of her deceit rather than a temperature. She glanced at Echo for support.

Echo picked up on the cue perfectly. “I expect Omega is tired out from all the fun we had today,” he said. “She should probably have an early night.

“Awright then kid, time for bed,” said Wrecker cheerily, scooping Omega up in a bone-crushing hug as he did every night. He lifted her easily into her bedroom in the gunner’s mount, flicking the switch to turn the fairy lights on. “Want a story?”

“Not tonight, Wrecker,” said Omega, burrowing into the blankets and trying to hide. “I’m really tired.”

“Fair ‘nuff,” grinned Wrecker. “I’m tired too, from playin’ in the snow! I’ll jus’ say goodnight to you an’ Lula.” And he waited expectantly for Omega to present the toy, as she always did, for a goodnight hug of her own.

“You can’t!” yelped Omega in alarm. “I mean, uh…” She sat back up a little, trying to school her face into a reassuring smile. “Lula is hibernating,” she lied. “Just like Stardust. You shouldn’t disturb her.”

“Ohh!” Wrecker gave her an exaggerated wink. “I get it!” He reached out and ruffled her hair. “Alright kid, sleep tight. I’ll see Lula when she wakes up from hibernation!”

Omega pulled the blanket over her head and wished she could hibernate, and not wake up until this nightmare was over.

They were due to dock at a small spaceport to resupply before their next mission. Echo reassured Omega that someone would be there to help with their problem, but Omega remained concerned.

“What if he doesn’t come?”

Echo smiled down at her gently. “He will, Omega. He’ll always come, if it’s you.”

Omega nodded, only partially convinced. It was hardly an emergency, but if Echo said he was coming, she wanted to believe him.

They docked the Marauder without challenge, Hunter assigning them instructions for a speedy resupply. Together, the five of them descended the ramp to the spaceport.

There was no mistaking the mercenary waiting by the one-man fighter on the other side of the docking bay. He was lean, armoured in deep red with grey accents – the mirror of how they were used to seeing him. A familiar skull decal adorned his shoulder pauldron, and a sniper rifle rested casually across his shoulder.

“Crosshair!” squealed Omega, breaking away from her brothers to run and meet him. The tall clone caught her in a one-armed hug, the other hand tightly gripping his rifle.

“Hey, kid,” he greeted, although he kept his gaze trained on his approaching brothers. A patch covered the empty socket of his right eye, a centrepiece for his fine-line tattoo; an injury earned during their escape from Mount Tantiss, when he had rescued Omega from Dr. Hemlock. A fair price for their freedom, he thought, not that he would ever tell Hunter that. He had let his hair grow back in around the scarring above his ear, steel-grey locks just starting to curl atop his head.

“Crosshair!” cried Wrecker, looking for all the world like he too wanted to run at his brother for a hug, just as Omega had. He held himself back, settling for a friendly punch to the shoulder. “Haven’t seen you in ages! How’s it goin’?”

“You are looking well,” said Tech with a nod which Crosshair returned.

They weren’t all so happy to see their estranged batchmate. “What are you doing here?” asked Hunter, a little too sharply.

Crosshair stiffened, biting down hard on his toothpick. “Two mercenary groups can’t be at the same spaceport at the same time?” he sneered, glaring at his brother.

“I guess they can.” Hunter narrowed his eyes suspiciously but let it go.

“Good to see you Crosshair,” said Echo, stepping past Hunter. The Imperial-sniper-turned-mercenary reached out and tapped vambraces with Echo as the cyborg came to stand on Omega’s other side. “Would you like to join us for dinner?”

“You’re casually extending dinner invitations now?” asked Hunter caustically. Echo ignored him, but Crosshair didn’t.

“I know when I’m not wanted,” he said bitterly. “Don’t trouble yourself on my behalf.”

Then he glanced to where Omega was tucked under his arm, looking up at him with a glaze of tears in her eyes.

“On second thoughts,” he said, fingers tightening on her shoulder, “I suppose dinner might be nice.”

Omega jumped to lock her arms around his neck in a tight hug, dangling from his tall frame. “Thank you, Crosshair,” she whispered, and was sure she felt him smile against her cheek.

The Marauder’s tiny galley was crowded with six, but the warmth of jovial conversation kept anyone from feeling too cramped. Omega was crammed onto the bench between Hunter and Tech, the latter engaged in animated descriptions of their recent adventures to Crosshair, who sat on a storage crate pulled up to the end of the table.

Crosshair was smiling, thin lips pressed together in a smirk as he listened to his brothers. Wrecker was an enthusiastic assistant storyteller, gesturing broadly from his position leaned against the wall across from the small table. There wasn’t space to seat all of them, so Wrecker had volunteered to stand.

Echo perched on the end of the bench between Tech and Crosshair, nodding along to the stories but casting the occasional glance between Hunter and Cross. He had made sure they were seated at the opposite ends of the table, hoping the distance would be enough to avert an argument. Hunter’s less than enthusiastic response to Crosshair’s presence was affecting Omega as well; every time she laughed at one of Crosshair’s retorts she quickly glanced up at the long-haired Sergeant, gauging his reaction. For Crosshair’s part, he pointedly ignored Hunter, and Echo supposed that was the best he could hope for.

When Crosshair disappeared outside, seeking respite from the noise and the scrutiny of his brothers, Hunter silently slipped from his seat to follow him.

The sniper hadn’t gone far, stopped under the wing of the Marauder as he tipped a toothpick from its pack and placed it between his teeth. He leaned against the ship with his head tilted back, breathing out a sigh as his face dropped into a worried frown.

Hunter didn’t try and disguise his approach, taking up position beside Crosshair with shoulders hunched and tense. He glanced up, still not used to seeing his older brother with a patch covering his eye instead of the hard but familiar glare that was usually framed by the crosshair tattoo.

When he spoke he couldn’t control the challenge in his voice.

“Why are you really here, Crosshair? It’s not a coincidence.”

Crosshair chewed for a moment on his toothpick. Then, “Echo called. Said the kid needed me,” he said truthfully.

Hunter bristled. “What does she need you for that one of us can’t help with?” he asked, an edge of hurt roughening his words.

“Getting out of Tantiss, for one,” hissed Crosshair, rounding on his smaller brother. For a moment they locked gazes, glowering, before Crosshair turned away. “Think what you want. I don’t care.”

Hunter took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “I’m sorry, Crosshair,” he said quietly, facing out across the landing bay instead of looking at his brother. “I’m grateful for what you did. Bringing Omega back to us.”

“You’ve got a funny way of showing it.”

For a while silence stretched between them, strained. Hunter crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his chin down in thought.

“How’s the aim?” he asked at last.

Crosshair merely grunted.

Hunter could sense the tension radiating from him even without his enhancements. He didn’t need to be told how losing an eye affected Crosshair’s depth perception – what that meant for a sniper.

“It’s… getting better,” Crosshair admitted at last. “The biggest problem is the muscle memory. I keep bringing my rifle up to…”

He trailed off.

Hunter gently knocked his shoulder against his brother’s. “You’ll get it back. It’ll take time to train to use your off-side.”

Crosshair rounded on him with a snarl, but seeing the genuine concern in Hunter’s face he softened. “Yeah,” he agreed, leaning back against the Marauder. He flicked his toothpick away, then almost immediately brought out a fresh one.

“So,” said Hunter after a moment. “What does Omega need you for?”

“Perhaps if you’d leave me alone for five minutes she’d come and tell me,” said Crosshair with a humourless smile. He tilted his head a little, glancing down at his brother. “You know, there’s going to be things she doesn’t want you to know. It’s good she has someone else to turn to.”

Hunter’s mouth turned down. “Why wouldn’t Omega come to me with a problem?” he asked.

“Because she cares what you think of her,” Crosshair told him. “She doesn’t want you to see her making mistakes.” Then, barely audible, “I know how that feels.”

“If she’s in trouble I want to be there for her.”

For a moment Crosshair stiffened, and he bit hard onto his toothpick. Hunter grimaced, tattooed face contorting with guilt.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you,” he said quietly, voice raw.

Crosshair resumed chewing on his toothpick. Eventually he sighed.

“Forget it.”

His words were twisted with bitterness and worse – resignation.

Hunter took a shaky breath. “Are we ever going to be good again, Crosshair?”

“You and me?” Crosshair’s gaze was distant, unfocused. He shook his head. “No.”

Beside him, Hunter tensed.

“But I owe the kid. If she needs me, you can call. It doesn’t have to be Echo.”

Hunter nodded, jaw clenched tightly.

Crosshair turned to him, a shadow of doubt crossing his face. His one eye narrowed, then softened. Reaching out, he ruffled Hunter’s hair, ignoring his younger brother’s half-hearted snarl of protest at the treatment.

“Come on, vod’ika. Let’s go back inside. I can play nice for one night, for Omega.”

“You called me out here for this?” Crosshair hissed, rolling his eyes at Echo. He turned the stuffed toy over in his hands, inspecting the damage.

“You’re the best at this kind of job,” Echo said defensively, arms crossed over his chest. “Your stitching has always been the neatest out of all of us.”

“You could have had Tech do this,” muttered Crosshair, but stopped when he saw Omega’s worried face. He gave a sigh, pinching his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “Fine. I’ll repair the dumb toy.”

Omega threw her arms round his neck once more, burying her face in his shoulder. “You’re the best, Crosshair.”

“Get off me,” he said without heat, gently prising the girl away from him. “Alright, do you have what I need?”

“I found needle and thread in the medical kit,” said Echo, indicating where they were.

“And the missing ear?”

“Chewed to pieces in the criceto nest, I’m afraid.”

Crosshair paused half-way through threading the needle. “What?” he asked, surprise smoothing some of the careworn lines from his face. “You got a criceto?”

“She’s called Stardust,” said Omega in a small voice.

Crosshair looked between them and gave a grunt of amusement. “Hunter really is getting soft.” He ruffled Omega’s hair gently, just like he had with Hunter. “Alright kid, so your pet chewed Lula and there’s no ear left for me to sew back on. Where can we get some red fabric to make a new one?”

Echo coughed. Crosshair glanced at him, then a wicked grin spread on his face.

“Got it.”

Omega padded softly past her sleeping brothers in their bunks and let herself into the cockpit. A silver-haired head faced away from her; Crosshair, sitting alone in the pilot’s chair. He didn’t turn, or give any indication that he registered her presence.

Closing the door behind her, she approached Crosshair and stood silently by his side. The sniper held a narrow tube of red fabric in his hands, running precise stitches down the seam.

Crosshair paused, flicking his gaze to her, and subtly shifted his position. Omega took the cue and crawled into his lap.

“If Wrecker doesn’t kill me, then Hunter definitely will,” she lamented, tucking into Crosshair’s side and resting her head on his shoulder.

A vibration of a supressed chuckle spread through him. “Most certainly,” he agreed in his driest voice, looping his arms round her loosely so he could continue sewing. “You’re done for. The best you can hope for is a swift death.”

Omega pouted. “You’re not helping,” she complained, and Crosshair jostled her gently.

“Do you want me to fix this or not?”

“Yes,” she said meekly. “Please.”

They settled into silence, Crosshair’s hands moving swiftly as he pulled thread through the new ear he was making. Omega retrieved Lula from the Marauder’s console and dug her fingers into the hole in the toy’s head, stirring the stuffing inside.

“What if they’re so mad they don’t want me around any more?” she asked in a small voice. “What if they banish me from the Batch?”

Crosshair gave a derisive snort, his breath stirring the girl’s hair. “You can come live with me,” he said, eyes never leaving his task.

“Do you mean that?”

“Sure.” A faint smile curled the corners of his mouth, his usual sarcasm absent. “I’ll get a bigger ship. A two-man fighter.”

Omega snuggled her face into his chest, wrapping one arm around his waist. “Can Stardust come too?”

“I don’t know about that. She sounds like trouble.”

Omega giggled despite herself. “Yeah. She can be,” she said, remembering Hunter’s red-cheeked embarrassment the first time Stardust had escaped and he hadn’t been able to track her. At least Tech had tamed the little criceto with bribes of treats since then.

Turning the fabric tube to hide the seam inside, Crosshair stuffed it with spare criceto bedding and took Lula from Omega’s hands, starting to attach the new ear. Omega watched sleepily, boneless and relaxed against her brother. Before long she started to doze.

Omega was vaguely aware of strong arms wrapping round her and lifting her up, of being cradled against a chest and carried, of being laid into bed and the blanket pulled up over her. A soft-bodied form was tucked in beside her.

She mumbled sleepily, not awake enough to form words. A hand rested on her head, long fingers stroking through her hair. Omega squeezed Lula tightly and burrowed into the blankets, giving a soft, contented sigh as she drifted back to sleep.

“Where’s my bandana?” Hunter muttered, still half-asleep and rubbing his face as he pulled back the blankets on his bunk. He ran his hand through his unruly hair, strands curling into his eyes now they weren’t tamed by his usual headgear.

“It must be around somewhere,” Tech told him, heading for the cockpit. Crosshair was gone and they were preparing to depart themselves.

“Wrecker,” called Omega from her bedroom, her voice shaking just a little. “Can you come over here?”

The big clone lumbered up the gangway to the gunner’s mount. “What’s up, kid?” he asked with a grin, resting his forearms on the floor of her small room.

Omega shifted uncomfortably, not meeting his eyes. “I want to tell you something,” she said, then rested her small hand over his large one. She looked at him at last, mouth downturned in an unhappy line. “I had an accident with Lula.”

Wrecker chuckled. “Whatcha do, spill somethin’ on her? Tech’s always tellin’ me to be more careful about that. Don’t worry, whatever it is usually washes right out!”

“No, it’s not that.” Omega sniffed, trying to hold back tears and keep her voice from wobbling. “I b-b-broke her. But Echo called Crosshair and Crosshair fixed her and-”

She pulled the tooka toy out from under her pillow.

“I hope it’s okay.”

Wrecker withdrew his hand from Omega’s and took hold of Lula, cradling her delicately as he stroked his fingertips over her right ear. It was now red all the way to the base, and where the new ear joined the toy’s head, there was a small bow with a familiar skull at the centre.

“Omega! I love it!”

Omega jerked her head up from where she had been looking miserable.

“You do?”

“Ha hah!” Wrecker grabbed her in one arm, dragging her to the edge of the gunner’s mount so he could hug her and Lula together. “It’s adorable! I’d never have thought to make a BOW for Lula to wear!”

Smooshing the plush tooka into his face, Wrecker kissed the beloved toy between her ears. “You look great, Lula,” he told the toy, beaming from ear to ear. “I’m sorry I never made you anythin’ pretty to wear before now!” He turned his grin on Omega, laughing. “Is this why you said she was hibernatin’? Tryin’ to keep it a surprise ‘til it was ready?”

“Uh… yeah,” said Omega lamely, stunned in the face of Wrecker’s excitement. “So you’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad? You had me worried when you said you broke her, but she looks just fine to me!” And with that Wrecker sauntered off happily, Lula tucked under his arm.

Echo appeared in the space Wrecker had vacated. He was wearing a knowing smile.

“I think we got away with that, don’t you?” he asked casually.

Omega nodded fervently. Somehow Wrecker hadn’t noticed the difference between Lula’s original ear and the new one.

“Maybe next time, keep Lula a bit further away from Stardust’s cage,” Echo smiled wryly. “Cheer up, kid. It all worked out in the end.”

At last Omega found her smile again. “Yeah. You’re right, Echo.” She reached over and petted the edge of the cage fondly. “And next time we go somewhere cold, I’m going to make sure Stardust has as much bedding as she needs!”

Hunter’s voice floated down the ship; Omega and Echo shared a guilty grin.

“Has anyone seen my bandana?”

Much like @kybercrystals94 original Stardust fic this is based off of a true life story. In that it was Lucky Rabbit who bore the brunt of hamster-based attentions to an ear, and my mum painstakingly retrieved chewed bits of fluff from the hamster cage and sewed him back together for me. I was about eight :)

#the stardust conspiracy #the bad batch #tbb fanfic #space hamster #tbb hunter #tbb echo #tbb omega #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #tbb lula #tbb crosshair #tbb stardust #brotherly fluff and shenanigans #just_thoughts

29 notes · View notes

lamuradex · 5 months

Text

Short Story: To Not Be Alone in the Middle of Nowhere

Genre: Horror

Wordcount: 4488

Description: The wanderer must always walk alone. He must walk alone. Noah walks alone.

To Not Be Alone in the Middle of Nowhere

The wanderer walks alone. His name is Noah.

He awakens in the morning, prepares his food, uses his materials to form paints, and redecorates his arms with symbols. Runes and marks of his homeland. Words with little meaning to anyone else.

He checks the dirt for footprints as he dismantles his tent. The pale earth is smooth and featureless, as always. He checks it again.

Noah packs away his tent, bundling his supplies together onto a sled. He wraps the straps for the sled around his middle, and he walks on, dragging it behind him. He marches on through the dirt.

For hours, he marches. Finally, he stops. He gathers his canteen from his things, satiates his thirst, and then he walks on. A few hours later he does the same for food, and then again to relieve himself. He walks on.

As the sun lowers, he finally stops. He looks about in all directions. He is alone. He is always alone. He sets up his camp and sits by the fire. Then, once the sun has set, he enters his tent and closes the entrance. He tries to sleep, but his ears strain to hear. He clutches the icon hung around his neck. But what can he hear? Intruders? Marauders?

Something worse?

But he hears nothing. For hours he lies there and hears nothing. Finally, he falls asleep, and still hears nothing.

The next morning he awakes. He rises, prepares his supplies, and redecorates his arms. He steps out from his tent.

Something is wrong. His fire has been dashed aside, perhaps by a strong wind. His spear, left outside the tent, has fallen over. His sled has been flipped onto its top.

Noah inspects the earth as he packs away his things. No footprints. No marks. Perfect flawless earth. He is alone. He is always alone.

Noah packs up his things and walks on. He watches the horizons on the desolate plains. Deserts, salt flats, whatever you want to call them, they look endless. But he is calmed by the endlessness of it. The sight of the horizon on all sides. Nowhere for anyone to hide.

As the day draws on, he stops to drink. He is alone. He stops to relieve himself. He is alone. He stops to eat.

There is a shadow. Something small on the eastern horizon. Perhaps he is not alone after all.

He continues to walk, watching the shadow, a lone shape low to the ground. As he finally stops to rest, it grows closer. He prepares an evening meal and gleaming eyes watch him from the dark.

They simply watch.

He finally goes to bed and hears something sniffing at his tent. Claws scratching at the flap. Something gnawing at the entrance. And then it stops.

He grips the icon around his neck, but hears nothing else.

Noah awakes the next day and prepares his paints. He repaints his arms, the motions second nature to him now. Every day since he left home.

He emerges from his tent and finds something odd. The earth is disturbed and his things have been rummaged through. He is not alone out here.

He packs away his things and sets off. He sees the shadow again, waiting on the horizon. It gets closer each time he stops, to drink, to relieve himself, and especially when he stops to eat.

That night, gleaming eyes watch him again. Something waiting in the dark. Noah looks out, trying not to look directly at it. He takes some of his food and lays it away from the camp. He eats some himself, watching from the corner of his eye.

Slowly, cautiously, a coyote emerges from the night. It sniffs the food then eats it. Then it runs off with its prize.

The next day this repeats. The camp is packed away and the coyote’s prints are in the dirt. It follows him throughout the day, closer and closer than before. He can feel it following and knows he is not alone.

He hopes that is what he can feel following.

That night, he lays out food again. He leaves a trail, leading up to where he sits. He sits and eats as quietly as he can. The coyote emerges from the night and licks at the ground, sniffing and snuffling closer. Finally, it stops beside him, sniffing for more food. Noah puts out a hand and pets its head. It snarls, and so he stops. But it does not flee. He leaves it an extra bit of food, and the coyote falls asleep by the fire.

Noah falls asleep in his tent, his ears straining yet again.

But he hears nothing.

The next morning he wakes. He repaints the symbols on his arms and leaves his tent.

His heart drops.

His spear is not where he left it, beside his tent. The coyote is dead, the spear jammed through its neck. Noah can see how this happened. The spear fell over, and panicked at the noise, the coyote ran and impaled itself.

That is except for the mark in the coyote’s fur. The one identical to the icon around Noah’s neck.

But the earth is undisturbed, and there was no sound the previous night.

Noah is alone. He is always alone.

Noah packs his things and moves on. He is nearing the end of the plains, the land ahead green with trees. It reminds him of home.

Even as he marches on, the day he left plays in his mind. He doesn’t want it to, and he has trained himself not to, but a little sweet nostalgia allures him to the memory, forgetting the bitterness of such thoughts on his tongue.

He was warned not to go in there. He was warned not to touch the stone. But a teenager will rebel against his elders, and the others dared him to. He remembers the thrill of climbing down into that cave, the chill of the water as he submerged, finding his prize, and their cries of triumph as he emerged clasping the smooth stone.

And then people were angry. His parents. The grand elder. He can recall his confusion at their rage. He couldn’t understand why they were so upset.

It was just a superstition, right?

There are no coyotes as he sits by the fire. Not now. Instead, he sits and watches the trees before him, their branches rustling in the wind. Beyond the forest is the orchard. And beyond the orchard is the mountain. And the mountain is the place where no one can follow him.

Where he can finally, truly, be by himself.

The next day he rises, repaints his marks, and sets off amongst the trees. He clings to the icon around his neck, watching the branches as if they’d reach out and grab it from him. As he walks he finds a stream, so refills his canteen. He finds berries, and so refills his rations. But this place is not quiet. There is noise everywhere, chirping, skittering, yipping. But he pulls his sled on, through trees and roots and mud.

That night he stops. There is only uneven ground, so it is difficult to set up his tent. He chooses to keep all his things inside the tent, to avoid mischievous monkeys or birds stealing anything. He sits tightly amongst his things, listening to the ceaseless noise outside.

Then it goes quiet. Just for a few minutes. Everything is silent.

And during that time Noah strains his ears again.

Until noise returns and he drifts to sleep.

The next day he rises and repaints his markings. They’re slightly scratched by branches, but it doesn’t take long to remedy. When he opens his tent, he finds a pile of bugs, all laid out like a sigil on the floor. A familiar marking, the same one which hangs around his neck.

But he can see how this happened. He’d been absentmindedly scrawling in the dirt with his spear, the same spear he’d used to retrieve the fruit. Spreading fruit juice like that, bugs were bound to follow.

He cannot tell why they died though. Perhaps the fruit was poisonous to them. Perhaps it’s poisonous to him but he doesn’t know it yet.

Either way, the earth around is undisturbed, as always.

He is alone out in these woods.

He is soon packed and on his way again. The weather is more temperate than it was on the plains. The trees and leaves trap heat, wrapping it in moisture, and making it heavy. But Noah walks on. Around trees, through bushes, across wide little streams.

He sees animals throughout the day. Spiders crawling up trunks. Snakes slithering over roots. Most ignore him if he ignores them. A few flies buzz around him, but they soon find other prey. A mosquito takes fascination with him for a while, but he swats it. Up in the trees above, a little shape swings. A monkey. It leaps from branch to branch, following his path.

That night, he settles and sets up his camp again. He glances up and sees the little monkey, still leaping about. Its bright eyes leer down. Noah eats some fruit as it draws closer. He sees it weighing its jump, ready to steal something. But he can’t sleep another night with his supplies crammed in his tent. The smell of the fruit is too strong, and positioning his spear is a challenge. And still the monkey creeps closer.

Noah takes a stick from the undergrowth and wraps a spare bit of cloth around it. He lights it from his campfire and swings it wildly up at the monkey.

The monkey screeches and yelps. It retreats, hurrying up a tree trunk. Noah waves his torch until the beast disappears. He hopes it won’t come back.

As he readies for bed, he takes some large leaves and covers the fruit. With one last thought, he takes his spear into the tent, propping it up awkwardly inside the entrance.

That night his ears strain against the noisy silence. So much noise it becomes the base for all other sound. Then he hears it. Scampering feet. Little eeks and ooks. The rustle of leaves.

Then the forest is silent again. Truly silent. All that remains is the monkey, rummaging amongst the fruit.

With a snap and a sharp shriek, even that falls silent.

The noise finally returns and Noah falls fitfully to sleep.

The next morning he reapplies his paints and opens his tent. The monkey is dead, its body left strewn across the far tree, battered and broken. Its blood spells a familiar symbol in its fur.

It must have just been a predator, Noah tells himself. Just a predator.

Noah marches on, sled behind him. The trees are already parting, leaving greater room to walk. By nightfall he will almost be at the orchard. Then the mountain.

Then he’ll be alone.

As he settles for nightfall, the trees are already quite wide apart. Wide enough that he can set up his tent without trouble. Wide enough that no animals come close.

As he sets up his tent, a chill joins the air. Something colder than cold.

The air is silent. Not even the noise of the jungle.

CRACK!

Noah looks up, but dives into his tent, hurriedly tying the entrance. Too late, in fact.

A branch the size of a log hits the tent’s roof.

The tent crumples, and the log lands atop Noah. His spear is in his hand, but the rest of him is pinned to the floor. He releases his spear and reaches up to the icon around his throat. Golden metal meets his fingers, and he relaxes. The chill to the air vanishes. The sounds of the woods return.

Using his spear, he levers the log off of him. He slips out, his side bleeding from where a branch cut him. It isn’t deep, so he patches it with mud and some torn cloth from his tent.

He moves the log and rebuilds his tent as best he can. He rechecks the various runes painted on its fabric. Luckily, they’re undamaged. He looks up to where the tree branch fell from.

Something is sat on the branch. A shadowy shape. First a monkey, then a coyote. Then it is a young man, before vanishing completely.

Noah heads into his tent and struggles to sleep.

The next day comes, and Noah almost forgets to repaint his arms. The cut in his side aches. It hurts, but there is nothing he can do.

He packs up his things and marches on.

Within hours, he has passed the edge of the jungle and steps out into lush green fields. The occasional tree is spread around, many littered with fruit. He tries to pluck some, but finds it too high, and his side is too sore to climb. He walks on.

That night he sets up camp in a field. No trees to fall on him, no animals to bother him. His side still aches, and he barely eats before surrendering and going to bed. He doesn’t hear anything that night, not that he is listening.

His hand doesn’t leave the icon around his neck all night.

The next day he awakes, but something is wrong. He is shivering, though the air is still warm. He sweats though he feels cold. The wound in his side burns and looks swollen. Even so, he rises, packs his things, and moves on.

The walk is more challenging today. His bones are tired and his thoughts drift in and out. They drift so far that the tang of nostalgia lures him in again.

The memories play out like a performance around him.

He is at home again, wandering back into the village. The elders are furious. His parents look scared. He is forced to carry the stone by himself, the elders refusing to touch it. There is shouting and ranting. Words like “Banishment” are used. Words like “Death”.

He knows that he has done wrong, but not why.

Finally, the words “The wanderer must walk alone” are uttered.

The chief’s guards arrive, and he is forced to leave.

All alone.

In the orchard, the night is rolling in. But Noah’s mind is too clouded. He walks on into the evening. He walks on into the night. He finally collapses, and in a moment of blurred clarity, he wraps the remains of his tent around himself like a blanket.

The inside is sweltering, his body boiling. His side still aches.

The night is silent.

The next morning he is awoken. Not by the dawn, but footsteps and people. They find him lying on the ground, wrapped in his tent. He is drenched in sweat and his side burns like fire. He looks at it, as do they, and they wince. It is yellowing, in parts even green.

One of them carries him on their shoulder. They are large people, all wearing rough and strong clothes. One of them carries a trident, but with four prongs.

Noah falls asleep as they carry him.

He awakens again in a bed. He is in his tent, but he can tell he did not set it up. The knots are wrong and the flaps are unsealed. But he cannot move. His side is on fire, his body drenched with sweat. He looks around and the runes on his skin are gone.

He looks down. His side is exposed, the mud cleaned off, now wrapped in clean bandages. He remembers being briefly awakened to take medicines.

He hopes they were medicines.

He tries to sit up, but cries out in pain and falls back. The sound attracts someone. A young woman enters his tent, sitting down beside him. She has hair like flax and freckles from cheek to cheek. She smiles with missing teeth, but in a way that is quite charming. She also speaks in a tongue Noah does not know. It is lilting and bright, but not one word is familiar.

She spies his lack of recognition. She tries to mime, pointing at his side, and then showing drinking something. She then mimes for him to stay still.

He nods and falls back to sleep.

Evening approaches, and he wakes to see the young woman. She is offering food, which he gladly accepts. Already he feels better and tries to stand, but she stops him. He is still weak. She produces a bit of paper and a quill. She writes something, but he does not know the letters. But she passes him the quill.

He writes something. He writes that he is thirsty, and would like some wine. He knows she will not understand.

That night, once she is gone, his ears strain at the dark. But this is not a quiet place. He hears horses, and people working late, and drinking in a nearby tavern.

And then, for a moment, it is silent. Silent aside from the sound of something being dragged.

Then all is normal again, and Noah falls unwillingly to sleep.

The next morning he awakens, but is still too weak to stand. He searches for his paints, but cannot find them. They must be on his sled.

Around mid-morning, the young woman arrives to give him food and water. And some wine. He looks at her curiously.

She mimes and writes a few words. One is “traveller” and the next “uncle”. The next is a list of places, one of which Noah recognises. He nods and writes “Hello”. She writes “Hello” in her tongue. They both smile.

The joy is cut short however. There are shouts, screams, yells of anguish. The young woman heads out and returns minutes later looking quite pale. She has brought a book with her. She reads it hurriedly, and Noah spies some of his language in the pages.

She scrawls down two words on the paper. “Missing” and “boy”.

Mere minutes later, the tent flap is thrown open, and a man in very stern clothes looks down at him. A finger is pointed in an accusatory way, loud words are said, and the young woman stands out of the way.

Noah however is too weak to stand. He tries to, but fails, and so the accusations are soon dropped. The man leaves, as does the young woman.

Later that evening, she returns. Noah has had all day to think. He desperately asks for the quill. He tries to warn her. He must have his things. He must have his paints. He grips and shows the icon around his neck as if she will understand.

She does her best to translate. She tells him to stay put. She thinks he is just afraid of the kidnapper, and he doesn’t want to be their next victim.

In a way, she isn’t wrong.

She is then called away by a dinner bell, or so Noah guesses.

And he is left alone.

That night his ears strain at the silence. The town is more sombre, no celebrating with such a tragedy in their midst. But amidst the mournful sobs, there is a moment of silence.

And in the silence, two noises. The sound of two things being dragged.

Noah does not sleep that night.

Noah stirs from his dreadful thoughts as the tent flap is opened and the stern man looks in. He says something, but it is not understood. Noah tries to answer anyway. The man shakes his head and leaves.

Around noon, the young woman appears, but she is dishevelled. Her hair is a mess and her eyes are bloodshot.

She writes on the paper three words. “My sisters. Missing.”

Noah stares at her for a long time. She forces the pen and paper into his hands. There is something new written on it.

“What took them?”

She looks at him, her eyes knowing more than her age would suggest. Insistent for answers.

He writes back. He asks that she help him leave. He begs for his paints and his things. He pleads that he be allowed to get away from here.

He does not answer her question.

She looks at his words, and she looks disgusted. She writes back. He is a coward, trying to escape. She helped him, and he will not help her.

He writes one last time to help him leave, and then all will be well. For her, all will be well. He then writes a single word.

Wanderer.

But it is unclear if she understands. He doesn’t know if the word can be translated or if she does just believe him a coward.

She leaves and does not return. Someone else brings his food that evening.

And he sits and eats alone, before tiredness finally takes him.

A noise in the night awakes Noah. A dragging noise. A lumbering noise. Something large, dragging its feet.

He has been in the same place too long.

He hears it moving, long toes dragging in the dirt. He sees a shadow against the moonlight, a form as tall as his tent. Long fingers hang past its knees. A maw of teeth shifts as it breathes.

And then another noise. A confused cry. A shout of anger and fear. The light of a burning torch.

A young girl screams.

The shadow vanishes and a man cries out in agony. A torch flies and ignites a nearby building. Like a shadow play, parts and fractions play out on the tent. A man impaled on long fingers. A jaw distending from a cavernous mouth. An eyeless head turning its gaze on him.

Suddenly, a hand pokes under the tent flap. A young woman’s hand. Noah struggles to his feet and grabs her fingers, but something else is pulling from the other side. She pleads and cries, but Noah is too weak. She slips from his hands, and her screams fall silent.

With all the strength he has, Noah holds the tent flaps shut.

Something stops outside the tent. His spear is on his sled. He can hear the thing breathing, rasping, hacking breaths. Something so old, so terrible. Noah watches as its long fingers press at the canvas, threatening to rip through. It strides around his tent, its long shadow cast over him by the flames.

Noah falls back and clutches the icon around his neck. He sits there until morning.

Then he is finally alone again.

Noah does not sleep. He rises and in desperation draws the symbols back on his arms with dirt and spit. He leaves his tent and he looks upon the village. He falls to his knees and vomits.

The town is in ruins. Almost a dozen buildings, all burnt or strewn with blood. Bodies lie in the streets, some whole, others ripped in half or more. One has his chest ripped open, chunks of gore dripping into the chasm.

And there, in the centre of town, impaled on Noah’s own spear, is the young woman. Her eyes are lifeless. Her hair is bloodstained. Her body is limp.

He is alone again.

Noah does not stay. He packs his things and marches on. He marches on faster than ever. He leaves his spear where it is, but gathers his sled and his supplies. The mountain is just beyond the village. He is almost there.

But his mind will not rest.

No more sweet nostalgia, a bitter taste floods his mind. He has tasted this pain before.

He recalls as he was driven from the village. Without food, without supplies, without explanation. On the call that “The Wanderer must travel alone”. The only one to stop him was his mother, who handed him an icon to wear about his neck.

She said it would keep him safe. He thinks it has.

He left the village, walking out into the woods. He stopped a mere hour away, weeping and mourning, not knowing what to do.

But then there had been a noise. Something in the trees. He had wanted a weapon, something to defend himself.

But it hadn’t been needed. His friends, those that had dared him to go in that cave, had followed him. They wished to go with him.

He had been so happy that night. And they celebrated. One had snuck a jug of wine. Another had brought a book of foreign places to go. Where they could all go. The book told stories of distant lands, and paradise havens, and a mystical mountain where no one could follow.

And his friends also told stories of The Wanderer. They recited all that the village had told them. Of a creature. Of a stone that had held such a thing in place.

But they had laughed. Laughed into the evening. Laughed until they slept under the stars.

The next morning, Noah had awoken to a cold wetness. As he stirred lying in a pool. A crimson pool. His friends were dead, gutted, their blood mixing around him.

He had screamed so loud. But that was when he had seen it.

Waiting just beyond. Waiting in the trees.

The Wanderer.

And he hasn’t stopped since.

The mountain is cold, and colder as he climbs. Snow crunches underfoot and frost bites at his skin. The sled catches in trenches of ice and patches of slush slip from under him like landslides.

But Noah presses on. He marches up the snowy slope, not able to see the top. For a day, he marches, and as the sun sets he presses on. But he hears nothing. No new noise, but no silence either. Just the flurry of snow.

For another day, he walks without stopping. Finally the peak comes into view. He crests the top and looks down, the world splaying out before him. He can see the village and the orchards beyond. He can see the jungle, and the mists amongst the trees. He can even see the plains, and how they bend over the horizon.

And somewhere beyond that must be home.

Noah sits upon the peak, cold seeping into his very bones. And for once, ever since this began, he feels truly alone.

With shaking hands, he reaches up and he removes the icon from around his neck. He places it in the snow before him and breathes in the cold air.

Suddenly, the air grows silent. Silent apart from the crunch of footsteps.

Noah doesn’t dare look round. He knows it will be there. He just hears those dragging steps as they move up the mountain behind him. Fear colder than the snow clutches his heart, but he doesn’t move. He can’t.

He feels long, sharp fingers wrap around his throat. He’s terrified, but it’s already too late.

And as the fingers wrench, and there’s a snap that could only be his neck, Noah can only think one thing.

He was never alone.

#writeblr #writing #writing community #writers on tumblr #horror #lamura dex writes!#short story #short stories #You voted for it #I posted it #Now please read it #Please?

4 notes · View notes

pufflezy · 1 year

Text

Authors Note: Everything you recognize is from the Harry Potter series!

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

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: The Celestial Ball

Remus' POV:

He fills my mind, always.

I could be in the middle of class or reading a book or sleeping in my bed and he fills my mind.

Sirius' hands are all over me in dreams like these. And I kind of love it. Imagining being with him in vivid dreams and touching his soft skin.

Until I get woken up by his annoying arse.

"Moony!" Sirius whisper yells.

"Wake up, wake up!" James adds, shaking me.

"What." I mumble, rubbing my eyes and looking at them all leaning over me as I lay in bed.

"We've had a brilliant idea!" Peter says.

"I'm honestly upset we haven't thought of this before!" Sirius complains, shaking me again.

I sit up, "What time is it?"

"2 am." James says, smiling.

I glare at him, "What is this 'brilliant' idea you've thought of that required you to wake me up at 2 in the morning?"

"We're gonna slide down the moving stair cases on our matresses!" Peter says, excitedly.

"What?" I furrow my eyebrows at him.

"It'll be so much fun!" Sirius smiles. "Come on!"

I roll my eyes and groan, "Fine."

We each grab our own mattress and start dragging them down the stairs into the common room, and through the portrait, earning an annoyed glare from the fat lady. (Nothing we haven't got hundreds of times before.)

We lay our mattresses in a line next to each other at the top of a set of stairs. "Now what?" I ask.

"We sit!" Sirius says, as he jumps crisscrossed onto his mattress.

The rest of us climb onto ours and James takes a quick look at the Marauders Map to make sure we're still in the clear and then Peter begins counting down.

"5," He says excitedly.

"4," James continues.

"3 2 1!" Sirius yells before pushing off and sliding down the stairs, the rest of us following closely behind.

We scream and laugh as we almost go head first into the railing at the bottom. "Again!" James yells.

"What on earth are you boys doing?" We hear a voice behind us.

We all quickly turn and see Lily standing at the top of stairs in her pajamas, with her hands on her hips.

"Uhhh, nothing." Peter smiles.

"It's ok, Lily-Flower, you can just pretend you didn't see anything and put your pretty little self back to sleep, ok?" Sirius grins.

She rolls her eyes, "No."

"Please don't tell on us, Lily!" James pleads.

Lily shakes her head in disappointment, "James, you're head boy,"

"I know, I'm sorry." He replies.

"And I'm head girl," She continues. James looks at her apologetically. "And we've been spending a lot of time together lately because of that."

"Yeah?" James says, confused at her point.

"So you should know me well enough by now to know that I would have loved to go mattress sledding!" She smiles.

"Wha-" Sirius starts.

"You wanted to join us?" I ask, surprised.

"Hell, ya!" She says, happily. "I did this all the time as a kid. I'm a pro!"

James laughs, "Here, come sit on the front of mine. We'll go down together and show these losers what head boy and girl can do!"

She smiles and runs down to sit on the front half of James mattress, as the rest of us line ours up to go down the next flight of stairs.

Sirius counts down again and we all push off, Peter landing at the bottom first.

"Boom! You guys suck!" He yells in victory.

"You cheated!" Sirius argues.

"Did not!" Peter replies.

Lily had fallen backwards while sliding down and was now basically laying on James, in-between his legs. He looked fairly pleased about that though and they were both still giggling.

We went down a couple more flights, Sirius making it his mission to beat everyone, but somehow failing every time. The rest of us going red in the face from laughter.

"We should probably go before someone catches us." I say.

They all agree and we grab our mattress, walking them back up as Peter and Sirius continue to bicker about who is the "better mattress sledder."

In the morning (the actual reasonable time to wake up, morning), Sirius, Peter and I head down with Marlene and Hestia to meet the others for breakfast. We see Alice, Frank, James and Lily sitting in the middle of the Gryffindor table and walk over to join them.

"Oh shove off, you prick." Lily laughs.

"Who's being a prick?" Marlene asks.

Lily raises her eyebrows at her, "Who do you think?"

James laughs, "All I said was that you're really fun when you loosen up."

"And I'm not fun otherwise?" Lily asks, eyebrows raised.

"That's not what I said! You are fun otherwise! I didn't mean it like that." James responds quickly, worried he upset her.

"It was a joke, Potter." Lily laughs.

James grins, "Oh."

"So, Pete. Are you gonna ask Greta to the ball?" I ask him.

"Ya. After breakfast." He smiles.

"Good! It's only 2 days away! You were running out of time!" Sirius replies.

"I know!" Peter rolls his eyes.

"Ya, I secured my beautiful date, last week!" James smiles, ruffling his hair.

"As friends." Lily reminds him.

"Not for longgg." James smirks.

Lily rolls her eyes, "In your dreams."

"Yes. You are correct. That does happen in my dreams." He winks, causing Lily to go a bit red.

"Oh would you two just shag already?" Sirius huffs. Making Lily even more red.

The rest of us laugh at Sirius' confidence to say what we were all thinking.

"Anyways," James smiles, "There's Greta now, Wormy!"

Peter turns to look at her and takes a deep breath to calm his nerves, "Wish me luck."

"You don't need it! You've got this, mate." Sirius reassures.

We continue about our breakfast and chat for another few minutes before Peter comes back with a frown, "She already has a date."

I look at Sirius for a moment and then back at Peter, "I'm sorry, Peter."

"We'll find you another girl, don't worry!" Sirius smiles.

"The dance is in two days. No one else is gonna be available." Peter frowns again.

I look down for a moment, thinking and then smile at him, "Peter Pettigrew, will you be my date to the Celestial Ball?"

He chuckles, "Really?"

"Of course!" I say, "No one else I'd rather go with then my best friend!"

Peter smiles, "Ok, sure."

"You ready to go, Remus?" Lily asks me with a smile.

"Yup!" I grab my bag and stand up.

"Where are you two going?" James asks.

"To study," Lily answer. "And no, you can't join us."

"What, why?" He responds.

"Because you have Quidditch practice, idiot." Lily laughs.

He goes a bit red in the cheeks and smiles, "Right."

Lily and I make our way to the library and settle into our favourite table way at the back where there's less people and its quieter.

We study for about half an hour before Lily stares at me for a moment, contemplating what to say.

"What?" I ask.

"I want to tell you something," Lily says.

"Ok?" I respond, setting my quill down and sitting up straighter.

"But you can't tell anyone!" She replies, eyes going a bit wider.

I look at her curiously, "I won't, Lily. You're my friend."

"Ok," She pauses. "I fancy James."

I look at her for a moment, thinking about the valuable information I was just given, "Ya, I know."

"How? Did Marle-" She starts, sounding upset.

"No, Lily." I interrupt. "It's just obvious." I laugh.

She goes a bit red in the face, "Shove off." She laughs.

The second that Lily decides she's done studying for the day and walks out of eye sight of me, I sprint down the halls and down to the Quidditch pitch. They're just finishing up practice when I get there, panting like a dog.

Peter walks over to me from the stands, "Are you ok?"

"Ya. I just really need to talk to James!" I say, still trying to catch my breath, "Big advancement in the Lames department!" I smile.

James and Sirius see us and walk over, "I thought you were studying with Lily." James says.

"Ya, but now I really need to talk to you!" I say, excitedly.

"Why? What's going on." James questions.

"Lily fancies you!" I smile.

He raises his eyebrows, "What?!"

"She just told me that she realized last week that she fancies you! She smelt you in the Amortentia!" I reply.

He smiles so big, "Merlin, really?"

"Yes!" I smile with him.

"Way to go, Mate!" Sirius says, patting James on the back.

"Lames is officially happening!" Peter grins. "I don't think I've ever been this happy."

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

Lily's POV:

The ball is in one hour and the girls and I are getting ready in my room, "Can someone zip me up?" I ask. Hestia zips up the back of my dress and I look at myself in the mirror. I'm wearing a floor length, A-line, Emerald green dress with flowy, off the shoulder sleeves and lace around the top. It matches the necklace James bought me perfectly.

"Beautiful." Hestia says, looking at me in the mirror as well.

Marlene turns to look at me from the chair she's sitting in while Alice finishes pinning her hair up, "James is going to drop dead when he sees you, Lily."

I laugh, "I hope not, I'm already worried enough about how the ball is going to run tonight. Don't want to deal with it all alone."

"It's gonna be great, Lils!" Alice smiles, "The team you guys picked to set it all up is super reliable, the band is amazing, and the decorations are gorgeous!"

"Thanks." I smile as well.

"You guys ready?" Hestia asks.

"Ready as I'll ever be." I laugh and we walk out of my room and down to the common room where the guys are sitting around on the couch chatting.

"Well don't you fellows clean up nice." Alice laughs.

James turns and looks at me, eyes tracing up and down my body with a small grin on his face. He runs his hand through his hair and walks up to me, takes my hand and kisses it, "You look absolutely stunning, Lily."

I blush, "Thank you, James."

"You ready to head down?" He asks, putting his arm out so I can link mine through it.

I smile, "Yes." I say as I take his arm.

As we walk through the corridors, we laugh at the chaos that ensues on ball night. Boys standing around in groups, checking their hair before their date arrives, girls trying to walk down the stairs in heels and poufy dresses, and the professors looking distressed as they try to get people to the Great Hall faster.

We walk into the Great Hall and it's everything I had hoped for.

The ceiling charmed to be a beautiful starry night, dark blue and shimmery white curtains draped over the walls, twinkle lights running wall to wall above the tables which are decorated with blue table cloth to match the walls and silver chairs.

"Wow." Marlene says, smiling.

"You guys did an amazing job." Peter says.

"It was mostly Lily." James admits with a smile.

Hestia chuckles, "Either way, it's gorgeous!"

"Thank you." I smile.

"Oh, there you two are!" Dumbledore says, as he approaches us, "I just wanted to congratulate you two on doing such a stunning job! It looks wonderful!" He smiles ear to ear.

"Thank you, Professor." We reply.

"Well get out there and dance, you lot!" He smiles, waving his arm to direct us further into the room.

Everything is going well so far. The band sounds great and people seem to be enjoying themselves for the most part.

"Awe." I frown.

"What?" James asks while we take our second lap around the room.

"That girl over there. I think she's alone." I say, nodding towards a girl who looks to be in about fourth year, sitting by herself at a table while everyone else dances.

"I've got this." James says as he approaches her and I watch to see how he plans on cheering her up.

"Hi. I'm James Potter." He smiles.

"Oh.. Hi- I know."

He laughs, "What's your name?"

"I'm uh- Marcy." She stutters.

"Nice to meet you Marcy." He grins. "Would you like to dance with me?"

Her eyes widen, "Really? You want to dance with me?"

"Of course I do!" James smiles. He puts his hand out, which she takes and he directs her to the dance floor.

I watch and smile at how sweet and caring he is, even to complete strangers.

"Hi, Lily." I hear Severus say from behind me.

I turn around, "Oh, Hi Sev." I smile politely. "I'm glad you came, are you having fun?"

"Not really," He laughs. "This isn't really my scene."

"Ya I know." I smile.

"Did you want to dance with me though? Since I'm here." He asks.

"Oh- um, sure." I agree and walk onto the dance floor with him. He puts his hands on my waist and I awkwardly place mine on his shoulders, trying to keep somewhat of a distance. I catch James' eye from across the dance floor and he looks between Sev and I with a frown before turning back to Marcy and smiles.

"So how have you been?" I ask.

"Not bad. Still working on some new potion recipes." He smiles. "What about you?"

"Things are going better." I respond.

"I'm glad. Did Petunia ever respond to you?" He asks.

I frown, "No. I doubt she ever will."

"I'm sorry, Lily." He smile, sympathetically.

The song ends and Severus lets go of me and smiles, "Did you want to grab something to eat?"

"Thanks, but I actually have to get back-" I start.

"Are you actually having a conversation with a Mudblood?" Mulciber asks from behind Severus.

Sev jumps slightly and spins around, "Of course not!" He answers quickley.

"Well then what are you doing?" Avery asks with disgust.

Severus looks between me and his friends, "I was just telling her that she's the next Mudblood to go."

I feel my stomach drop. It's like fifth year all over again. I see James walking over and feel slightly relived, "Is there a problem here?" He asks, glaring down at Severus.

"No. We were just leaving." Severus answers.

"Good." James says as Sev and his friends walk away. "Are you alright?"

I take a breath, "Ya. Just.. Severus." I smile sadly.

"Come on, lets grab something to drink." He smiles and takes my hand to direct me over to the drink table.

He grabs me a glass of punch before reaching inside his dress robes to grab a small flask and pour some into my cup, "Shhh." He smiles.

I laugh and take the cup. We walk around while drinking our punch and another slow song comes on, "Lily Evans, would you honor me in giving me this dance?" He smiles.

I smile as well, feeling my face go a bit red, "Of course."

He takes my hand and we walk onto the dance floor. He places his hands on my waist as I put my arms around his neck and smile. I can feel his breath on my skin and his twitching fingers slide down a bit lower as I twirl the hairs on the bottom of his neck in between my fingers.

"You really do look so beautiful, Lily." He says, as his hazel eyes skip between my eyes and lips.

I smile and look down between us to hide him seeing me blush this close to him.

"And you look very handsome." I admit.

He pulls me in a bit closer as he sways us to the music. I look at him again, not being able to stop myself from dropping my eyes to look at his lips.

He smiles and I look back up to make eye contact again.

"Kiss me already." I hear myself say.

He looks shocked and turns a bit red, "What?"

"Kiss me, Potter. Before I change me mind." I say, staring at his lips.

He pauses for a moment before leaning in and breaking our distance. His soft lips move against mine like they were always meant to be there and he moves his hands to my back to remove any distance that was left between us. It feels as though the room is spinning and we're the only two people in it. I move my hands to cup his face and feel him smile into our kiss before pulling back to stare at me.

I lean back into him, resting my head on his chest as we continue to sway to the music and he rests his hands on my back, hugging me in. I just know that he's smiling so big right now and probably getting a thumbs up from Sirius behind us.

The song, unfortunately, comes to an end and I step back, smiling at him.

"Silence, everyone!" Dumbledore says into the microphone on the stage. "I know this night has been quite excellent for most of you. Therefore, I would like to invite up the organizers of this beautiful event before the night comes to a close." He looks at James and I and I take a breath, nervously as I didn't expect to have to make a speech.

We walk up the stage and look down at all the people on the dance floor and sitting at the tables in the back.

"Well, I guess I'd just like to say a thank you to our wonderful prefects who volunteered to put hours into decorating the Great Hall tonight, the band who sounded incredible, and all of you for coming." I say with a smile.

"And I would just like to admit that all of this planning, decoration choosing and basically everything else was 90% Lily, and for that I want to thank her." James adds, smiling at me.

"Wooo, Lames!" Sirius yells from the crowd, getting a smack on the arm from Marlene.

"No," She says to him, "Go Jily!" She winks at me. I swear I look at them with horror before casting silencio on them when they continue to yell.

James laughs, "Anyways, thank you all for coming and get back to your dorms safe tonight." He says before placing his hand on my lower back and directly me across the stage to get down on the other side. When we get there, our friends are waiting for us. All of them smiling like they have just received the best gift in the world.

Sirius waves his arms around, trying to get me to undo my spell so they can talk again, "Are you going to me good?" I ask,

He nods, frevilously.

"Ok." I laugh before undoing the spell from both of them.

"You kissed!" He immideitally yells, grabbing James' arms and jumping up and down.

James laughs, "Yes we did."

Marlene looks at me with a big smile, biting her bottom lip and I smile back, excitedly.

"Eeee." Sirius squeals. "Tell me everything!"

James raises his eyebrows with a grin, "How about tomorrow? It's late and I need to get Lily back by her curfew."

I roll my eyes and laugh.

"Fine, fine." Sirius agrees.

"Goodnight, guys." James says as he puts his arm out for me to link mine through again and we start walking away. I turn my head to look back at them and smile ear to ear with widened eyes.

We walk back to our dorm in a comfortable silence and when we arrive he walks me all the way up to my bedroom door.

"I had a really amazing time with you, Lily. Like truly incredible." He laughs.

I smile, "I did too."

He looks at me for a moment before leaning down to place a gentle kiss on my lips. I smile when he pulls away, "Goodnight, Potter."

"Goodnight, Evans." He grins.

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

Chapter 16 out now!

4 notes · View notes

valentineforlemonandcherry · 3 years

Text

Tag Yourself - Marauders ( - Peter, + Snape) and “Almost” Moments on Christmas Day

Nothing came before, and perhaps nothing comes after. But undeniably, there was that one, shy, soft moment, where something might’ve happened on Christmas Day...

James Potter

You were a scaredy-cat through and through, and yet, something in you itched for excitement. Whenever you saw the Marauders running through the hallways, ties barely hanging on, and papers fluttering out of their student bags, you felt a pang of envy.

How do they not care? you wondered. That was what you found yourself thinking one fine December morning when you gingerly stepped outside, in all your layers of warm clothing, thinking you’d find a nice bench to sit down on, when you spotted a group of kids, including the Marauders, going sledding down the front slopes of the Hogwarts lawns. Just now, Sirius and Remus had gone off, whooping, before they disappeared down into the glittering white of the vast Hogwarts grounds.

* * * * * * * * * *

James caught you looking over at him curiously. “Want to try?”

You hesitated. “Is it fast?”

James shrugged. “Nah. Not fast at all, really. Wish it was faster.” He put it down on the ground. “You can ride with me, if you want.”

You looked at him skeptically, all but wringing your hands with anxiety.

“C,mon,” James coaxed you, “it’s just a sled ride. Everyone does it. What could possibly go wrong?”

“O-Okay,” you said finally, and you made your way over and sat behind James on the sled.

* * * * * * * * * *

“James Potter!” you shrieked, as the sled went zipping down the steep hills besides Hagrid’s cabin. “You told me it was slow!”

James laughed loudly as the sled continued to accelerate in speed. The Forbidden Forest quickly turned into a mere blur of crisp whiteness.

“No,” you moaned out. “No, no, no. This is not what I signed up for. It’s Christmas! I don’t want to die on Christmas!”

James reassured you cheerily, “Well, I reckon if we die on Christmas, we’ve got a pretty good shot at getting into heaven! People tend to be in good moods on their birthday!”

“James, no!” you yelled, horrified.

“Relax, we’re fine!”

But you didn’t believe him. Without thinking about it, you abruptly hugged James from behind, squeezing him with all of your might, and still moaning, you buried your head against the back of his shoulder.

Just then, the sled bounced against a rock buried under the snow, and you squirmed and yelped out, “Oh, please!”

James paused. For a moment, his mind went blank because you were so furiously burrowing yourself right up against his back and your shape was unexpectedly so damn cute. Besides that, it wasn’t too much of a stretch of the imagination to think of another situation where you might be begging so cutely, and pushing yourself up against him like this.

Unfortunately, it was the wrong moment to get distracted. James forgot to tug on the rope in his hands and the sled continued merrily on – past the point of no return.

You screamed at the top of your lungs as the sled went right over the hillside.

“Abort!” James yelled, and the next moment, the sled had disappeared out from under you both.

You gasped as you and James went tumbling down the hillside, which was, most thankfully, covered in the softest, most powdery snow.

Finally, you ended up on your back, breathless, and staring dizzily up at the high, white sky above up.

“Sorry!” James’ voice rang out as he quickly made his way over to you. He fell onto the snow besides you and hurriedly put his hand on your cheek, turning your face so you’d look at him. “Are you all right? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean - I lost control of the sled for a minute – Was distracted, but, um…”

He slowly fell silent as he took in the sight of you blinking up at him, snowflakes caught in your eyelashes, a beautiful blush covering your cheeks, and lips parted as you panted softly to get your breath back.

“Wow,” James breathed out.

“What is it?” you asked. “Am I bleeding somewhere? Or did you pick up my heart somewhere? ‘Cause I swear it just flew right out of my chest there.”

“No. I’m just amazed… at how bundled up you are.” James suddenly prodded you in your stomach, but you hardly felt it because you were, in fact, wearing six layers. “I don’t even understand why you were worried. We could’ve barreled through the Forbidden Forest and you would’ve been fine.”

“What?” you said indignantly. “I told you, I was worried!”

“But why? Nothing’s going to hurt you in this, anyways. You’re wearing…” James’ hand slipped down to the hem of your jacket and then slipped in underneath. He started to count through your hems, lifting them one by one under your jacket. “One, two, three, four, five, six…”

He suddenly paused, as did you, when his hand abruptly met your bare tummy.

Your eyes met, and then you shivered and pulled away. “Your hand’s cold,” you murmured, hurriedly patting down all of your layers. “Um…”

“Um,” James repeated. He was having a hard time having coherent thoughts all of a sudden. She’s so… so little and all soft… And she’s wearing six layers. James wasn’t sure why that was important, but his brain had chosen that fact to latch onto and store away about you. It told him something about you, namely, how cute you were.

“James?” you called out softly. “Are you okay?”

“Me? ‘Course. ‘Course I am. Anyways.” James cleared his throat and got up. He offered you his hand. “Here, let me help you back up.”

You nodded, and you let him pull you up.

“Want me to pull the sled back up?” you offered.

“No, I’ve got it,” James replied quickly.

The two of you were silent as you trekked all the way back up to Hogwarts. By the time you’d made it back to the castle, your six layers were killing you with heat. So, as soon as you’d stepped into the Great Hall, you were so determined to dash back to your room, go straight back into pajamas and into bed with a nice, safe book, that you were completely oblivious to James’ careful side-glances at you. As it were, you tromped back up the stairs to your common room, not realizing how you’d left James Potter there in the Great Hall, standing in his drenched snow clothes, and still dragging along that stupid sled.

Sirius Black

Sirius Black was a terrible flirt. How you had the misfortune to have to sit next to him in Charms, you would never know.

As a Christmas treat, Flitwick taught you all how to Charm mistletoe into appearing above your heads.

For all his intelligence, he isn’t all that bright, you thought about Flitwick. Can’t he see how everyone’s going to misuse this spell?

Even now, Sirius easily twirled his wand and a sprig of mistletoe appeared over you both. Sirius gave you a cheeky grin and he leaned towards you while innocently putting his face in his hand.

“What d’you think you’re doing?” you asked him, rather tersely.

Sirius chuckled lowly, not in the least bit offended or upset. He leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the desk. Arrogantly ruffling his hair with his hand, he looked over at you and said, “Your turn, then.”

* * * * * * * * * *

But as the days went by, you realized that while the students were abusing the mistletoe spell left and right, no one was using it to ask you for a kiss.

You stared forlornly, while trying to look as if you didn’t care, when Lily ducked what must have been the fifth sprig of mistletoe that some boy had tried to cast over her. “Some boy” turned out to be none other than James Potter.

“Lily! You’re quite sprightly, you know. Have you ever considered trying out for the Quidditch team? Did y’know I’m Captain?”

“James Potter, how many times do I have to say it? Sod off.”

“Aw, c’mon, it’s nearly Christmas.”

“Why does that matter?”

“It’s time for cheer and good fun and all that. I’d say I deserve a kiss - ”

“There is no such thing as – What are you even saying?”

Standing on the opposite sidelines of James and Lily arguing, Sirius caught your eye. “Feeling left out over there?”

You snorted at him. “As if.”

Sirius nodded up at the ceiling. “You say that, but look, you’ve stepped right under the mistletoe.”

You looked up to where Sirius was nodding at, and you realized that it was true. Somehow, you’d planted yourself right in the middle of the mistletoe spring that James had conjured over Lily’s head originally. You didn’t realize that Sirius had subtly magicked the mistletoe to move a few feet over to you.

As you stared up, wondering how that had happened, Sirius’ voice came floating over to you once more, “Subconsciously, I think you do want to be kissed.”

You rolled your eyes. “I just happened to walk under it, Black. That’s all.”

“Okay.” Sirius definitely sounded like he didn’t believe you, for there was plainly a cheeky smile playing around his lips.

Your eyes flashed brightly and you retorted indignantly, “You’re the one that keeps bringing it up, so stop saying that I want to be kissed. If anything, you’re the one that wants it!”

To your surprise, Sirius didn’t miss a beat, as he replied, “And if I said you were right?”

Disarmed, you stepped back a little. “What?” you asked him, confused.

Sirius took one step forward, and because his stride was longer than yours, he was suddenly very, very close to you. Looking down at you, he said calmly, “And if I said that I did want to kiss you, what would you do?”

You hesitated. Your stupid heart was giving you away, thumping away in your chest and making you blush in front of Sirius. “Well, I- I would…”

“Can’t answer?” Sirius stepped even closer to you, slowly backing you up against the hallway wall behind you. “What’s the matter? Forgotten how to speak?”

You flushed. “Stop it…” you said weakly. “I was just going to say that with the mistletoe, um, maybe you could, it wouldn’t be all bad if you were to ki – Oh…”

At that moment, the mistletoe sprig disappeared.

“Disappointed?” Sirius said slyly, grinning.

“No,” you replied, but you sounded hesitant even to yourself.

You shut your eyes, already knowing that Sirius was bound to tease you about how obviously uncertain you’d sounded.

Instead, a moment later, warm fingers slipped onto your cheeks, followed by broad, warm palms. Your face, now cupped in Sirius’ hands, was tilted upwards.

Startled, you asked, “What – What are you doing?”

Sirius replied, “Sorry, I know the mistletoe’s gone. But that was all a set-up, anyways.”

“A set-up?” you murmured confusedly, not understanding how Sirius had been trying to subtly create the perfect excuse to kiss you for weeks now.

“But what does it matter?” Sirius asked in a soft murmur, almost speaking to himself. “Even without the mistletoe, it’s just one kiss. I don’t see what’s such a big deal about it.”

Oh. Right. It’s just one kiss to him. Your eyes fell to the floor, and you whispered numbly, “Yes, and that’s why I don’t want you to kiss me.” You gently pushed at Sirius’ chest. His hands fell from your face, and you quickly turned away from him.

Sirius opened his mouth to call after you, but you had already brushed past him and were hurriedly traipsing down the nearest staircase.

I shouldn’t have rushed her like that, he sighed regretfully.

Your words, and the soft, yet hurt way in which you’d spoken then, remained on Sirius’ mind for a very long time.

Yeah, she’s a precious one, he thought quietly to himself. She deserves more than just some guy wanting to fool around with her. I shouldn’t bother her again.

And he didn’t, but he never forgot you, either. As the days passed, when you found yourself a proper boyfriend, Sirius found himself having to get over you, which he knew was perfectly ridiculous, as he had never had you. And when he saw the two of you kissing under the mistletoe at the Three Broomsticks, he felt himself flush with embarrassment, and without any explanation, he yanked James, Remus, and Peter out of there with impressive strength. In that way, to Sirius, you were forever the girl who got away.

Remus Lupin

You and Remus had always been aware of each other, as you were Lily’s friend, and Remus was James’, but the two of you had never had occasion to really interact, save for the forced cordial greetings mandatory between friends whose mates were going out.

But now, at the Potters’ Christmas party, the two of you found yourself the only ones with enough coherence and decency to try to clean up after the party. Lily and James had fallen asleep together, sharing the same scarf and cuddled up warmly on the couch. Sirius was dozing, in a light sleep, on the armchair besides them, with little baby Harry snoozing away in his godfather’s lap. Peter was passed out in the other armchair, cuddling a stuffed animal meant for Harry. Meanwhile, Marlene and Dorcas, who were by far the strongest drinkers of the group, had gone out to find some more wine and cider.

You had absent-mindedly started to clean up the scattered gift wrapping all around the Christmas tree.

Unbeknownst to you, Remus had begun to do the exact same thing on the other side of the Christmas tree.

So, when you found a very long, shiny string of pink ribbon, thinking that everyone was asleep or out, you playfully wrapped it around your neck. You laughed a little at yourself, but you figured it was all in good fun. You then went right back to work, pushing together the wrapping paper into a neat pile.

Now much closer to you, but still obscured by the tree, Remus came upon the end of a pink ribbon. Thoughtlessly, he wrapped his hand around the end and he pulled on it, thinking he’d tug the whole thing to him before he threw it into the pile he was making.

Remus thought he heard a soft gasp. Frowning, he started to come around the Christmas tree, but as he got up from where he was sitting, he accidentally yanked on the end of the ribbon, now solidly wrapped around his fist, once more.

With a soft yelp of surprise, who should come falling straight into his lap but you.

For a moment, everything was total confusion. Remus, trying to make sense of what had landed in his lap, was accidentally making a mess of your hair. You, in trying to get up, were unintentionally pressing your hands all over Remus’ thighs and hips.

Needless to say, you were both very flustered when you finally clambered on top of Remus enough that you were sitting in his lap and face-to-face with him, instead of how you’d originally landed, with your face smushed right up against his chest.

“R-Remus?” you said, very confused at suddenly being in such close proximity to him.

Remus’ mouth fell open and he looked at you, quite dazed. “Er…”

She’s quite beautiful, isn’t she? It took him a moment to stop staring at you, but finally, he cleared his throat and looked away from you.

You frowned, still not understanding how you’d gotten yourself in this situation, until your eyes traced down Remus’ arm to his hand, where the end of the pink ribbon was wrapped around his fist.

You let out a soft laugh. “Oh…”

“What is it?” Remus asked you, still deliberately looking away from you.

“Remus, you’re holding onto my ribbon.”

“Hm?”

“Look.” You reached over and took his hand in yours.

Remus, now blushing despite his best efforts not to, finally had to look. Because your fingers were now dancing over his fist, as you unwrapped the end of the ribbon from his hand. Then, you guided his hand up the ribbon, making his hand follow that pink thread, until his hand came to rest on your throat.

“See?” you said. “You must’ve tugged the end of the ribbon I was wearing.”

“O-Oh, yes, I s’pose I do see now.” Remus swallowed hard. He knew he was going to have to get you off his lap pretty quickly if he wanted to save his dignity. But before he did, he couldn’t help but wonder, “Why did you have it around your neck?”

It was your turn to blush. “Oh, I was just… just being silly. I thought it might look pretty.”

“It does suit you.” The words were out of Remus’ mouth before he could think it through.

You paused. Then, you slowly looked up at Remus, finally meeting his eyes.

Remus’ immediate instinct was to look away, but he couldn’t. Your eyes were all alight, glistening beautifully in the Christmas lights wrapped around the tree just behind you, and besides that, his hand was on your throat…

Remus felt you shift in his lap, and your hands slid up his shoulders. You were leaning forward. Your eyes started to close. Remus gulped and he closed his eyes, too –

Slam!

The cheerful duo of Marlene and Dorcas’ bright voices punctured the air, shattering the hushed silence over the house.

“We’re back!”

“We’ve found some more liquor! How’s another round of Firewhiskey sound?”

Abruptly, Peter jolted up from the armchair. “What? Fire? Where?” he yelled nonsensically. His eyes weren’t even open yet, and he floundered around the confines of the plushy armchair.

Startled, your hands slipped off of Remus’ shoulders. You tumbled right out of his lap, and you fell rather unceremoniously – right into the pile of wrapping paper Remus had gathered.

Harry, too, had woken up, and immediately began crying. As everyone rushed over to pacify him, Remus helped lift you out of the pile of wrapping paper. As he set you on your feet, he noticed that you had one of those Christmas stick-on bows stuck to your hair.

Feeling a certain fondness for how the Christmas decorations kept sticking to you, Remus plucked it out of your hair. “Here,” he said, and he handed it to you. When you looked up at Remus with a confused expression, Remus felt embarrassed. He realized too late that he should’ve just discretely picked it out of your hair and tossed it into the pile of rubbish right behind you. But Remus hadn’t, and he didn’t quite know why, except that maybe he now associated you with pretty Christmas decorations, and maybe, in his secret, shy heart of hearts, he wanted you to keep one of them from that night to remember him by.

Severus Snape

Nobody understood how the two of you (you and Severus) had ever become friends.

Truth be told, you yourself weren’t sure. But it had happened, and you weren’t one to question it.

In fact, you felt you often had your daily share of fun by annoying Severus.

So, today, you bounded up the stairs to his “secret” Potions cupboard, holding a sprig of mistletoe in your hand.

You burst into the dark, dank cupboard, and said brightly, “Sev! Look what I’ve got.”

Severus, his nose buried in some seemingly obsolete Potions book, lifted his head to glower at you. “I’m in a very important stage of the Potion, so if you could possibly control your – Hey! Get down from there!”

You’d clambered onto the footstool besides his brewing desk and you attempted to hang the mistletoe up on a hook against the wall, where brooms and like had once been hung up and stored away.

But you weren’t quite tall enough. You bit your lower lip and tried to reach but –

“Ah!” You gasped as the footstool slipped against the stone floor.

You shut your eyes as you fell backwards –

Fwump.

To your surprise, nothing hurt.

“For Merlin’s sake,” somebody growled in a very deep voice.

You slowly opened your eyes.

“Sev?” you murmured out, rather breathlessly, for Severus had managed to catch you before you hit the floor.

“I asked you to control yourself,” Severus said thinly. He, too, was panting a little.

Your face fell a little. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to… I wasn’t try to cause trouble for you.”

Severus sighed. He started to set you back on your feet when his eyes caught your little hands, all gathered up at your chest.

Severus paused. “Why are you still holding onto that thing?”

You glanced down and found yourself still holding onto the mistletoe. “Oh, I suppose… Because I was hoping you’d kiss me.” You gave him quite the mischievous smile, meaning to tease him, as you always did.

But then, Severus Snape blushed. He outright blushed.

You blinked in amazement as you watched your friend’s face suddenly tinge pink. “Sev,” you whispered, “look at you. You’re blushing. I’ve never seen you blush like this before.”

Something very much like fury rose up in Severus’ heart, and only a second later, you yelped as Severus all but punted you out of his cupboard.

“I told you, the Potion is in an important stage!” Severus yelled at you from the other side of the door.

“Sev!” you yelled back, furiously rubbing your bum where Severus had (accidentally) kneed you a little. “Don’t be mad! I didn’t mean to say anything bad!”

“I’m not mad!” Severus shouted back, in a tone very much indicating the contrary. “Just – Just get out of here!”

“C’mon, it’s Christmas!” you reminded him, now pushing in vain at the cupboard door to try to get in again. “Show some mercy! Besides, I was only going to hang mistletoe in your cupboard for you. It was supposed to be a nice thing!”

“I told you, I’m not mad. I simply need to focus on the Potion!”

In truth, the Potion was a lost cause already, frothing unexpectedly and uncontrollably, as Severus had forgotten to add hellebore. I mean, really, could you blame him? He’d been otherwise occupied with catching you. Anyhow, a string of curses came running out of his mouth as Severus realized he’d messed up, but when he heard your footsteps finally going away from his cupboard, he sighed and waved his wand, vanishing the useless mess of Potion in his cauldron.

What did he care about messing up his Potion, when he had unmistakably messed up with you? He hadn’t meant to kick you out like that. But it’d been so unexpected, and he didn’t know how to handle the thought of you seeing him so vulnerable. But it was now too late, you’d gone, taking your bright eyes and that blasted mistletoe with you, and you weren’t ever going to know how much Severus wanted those things back.

#tag yourself #harry potter imagine #marauders #marauders era #james potter #james potter x reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #severus snape #severus snape x reader

15 notes · View notes

amara-scott · 3 years

Text

Confessions

Movie: Harry Potter (Maurauders Era) Characters: Remus Lupin x Reader Categories: Fluffy and Sweet

More Harry Potter Universe Imagines

Full Masterlist

It was a cold winter morning when Lilly woke me up to join her at breakfast. I groggily complied, following her without having exchanged a word. I am not a morning person. And she very much knows that. But she is my friend and leaving her to go alone on a Saturday morning would be too cruel. Simply because of one person. James Potter- we all know they are meant to be. They are both just too stubborn. Well, Lilly is. James would marry her right there and then.

"Thanks again, (y/n), you know I can't handle him. Especially not in the mornings." I just smirk, nodding.

But my smirk is wiped off my tired face as soon as I catch a glimpse of Remus. Remus Lupin. Aka the death of me. Those brown locks and shy smile drive me mad. Sure I didn't tell anybody, everyone would make fun of me for it. Just like they do with Potter and Evans. Besides, I know he doesn't feel the same. He has a huge crush on that Gryffindor Girl that has luscious golden locks and full, pouty lips. It's hopeless, really. But Lilly has other plans as she drags me with her, right up to the Marauders.

"Good morning, beautiful Lilly-flower. How did you sleep?" There's the reason why I'm here.

"Shut it Potter, not today." Lilly mutters as she sits down opposite him and pulls me down next to her. Her small blush obvious to everyone. I sit down. Right next to Remus. I try not to show my excitement. Or how nervous I've gotten all of a sudden. And definitely not turn toward him.

It must have been too forced which is why Sirius sends a smirk my way. I raise an eyebrow in return.

“Why so tense, (Y/N)? Can’t handle the beauty in front of you? You seem overwhelmed-“

“Actually, let me stop you right there, Sirius. Nothing of the above.” Remus chuckles next to me but it turns into a muffled cough, which catches my attention and I can’t help and turn too look at him. The first time I really do today. And a sense of hurt fills me as I see his scared face. Another rough night. I lift a hand to touch his shoulder but decide against it mid-air.

“Remus, are you alright?” He doesn’t glance back just pokes at his food and still holding a fist to his lips after the cough. He shakes his head and ignores my question. I frown and turn back forward, trying to feel hungry. Actually, trying to feel anything but a void in my stomach. And hurt. He never ignored me. Sure, he is frank sometimes and maybe doesn’t always looks me in the eye when we talk but- he never once ignored me.

“Soo, are we going to Hogsmeade tomorrow?” James asks, trying to cut the tension at the table but I can’t hold it in anymore and am scared they will see my glossy eyes.

I shake my head and stand up briefly. “Sorry.” I speed walk down the table and out of the Great Hall. I only stop once I reached the common room and decide to sit on the couch until classes would start. Who needs food anyway. I bury my head in a book and nearly miss to leave for our first class. Potions. Funny enough this is the only class I usually sit next to Remus because James sat next to Lilly the first time. Now I slow down my walk and hope he might have switched seats. When I enter though Remus is glancing around until his eyes land on me. I freeze for a second but gulp down my nerves and take my usual seat next to him.

It’s quite for a while. I don’t look over and he doesn’t say anything. Not even raising his hand when I can clearly see he did his homework and knows the correct answer.

A paper ball lands on his side of the desk which catches my attention. I don’t want to be nosey so I don’t try to read what’s written there. But I get where it must have come from by the look he is sending over to Sirius. Sirius gestures wildly at him, looking stern and I frown until he points over to me and our eyes meet- he quickly whips his hand up and ruffles his hair, sending me an awkward smile with a wave. Then turns back around.

I frown but don’t question it any further, trying to also ignore the eyes I feel on the side of my face. I Scribble down on my parchment but can’t help and notice Remus clearing his throat a couple times. After the third time I sigh and glance up. He’s wringing his fingers below the table and his eyes dart up as he sees me looking up. His eyes growing wide for a second before he sends me a small, uneasy smile.

“Hey.” He whispers. I can’t help but let my gaze linger on the scar below his eye. It looks painful and I quickly relax my face as I notice I’ve been cringing at him.

“Hi.” I reply and have to send a smile back. I can’t stop myself. He does that to me. Goofball. I am about to turn back to our task as he opens his mouth, inhaling- as if to say something. But he stops himself.

I raise a brow at him and wait. “What’s up?” Is add, trying to encourage him to keep going.

“I- I just-“ he smiles down at his hands and turns toward me slightly, “-I wanted to apologize. You probably think I’m absolutely rude and, and insufferable-“

He wants to ramble on but I glance up to the podium to see McGonogall sending us a suspicious look. I turn back to Remus, taking one of his fidgety hands and he stops talking, looking down at our hands.

“Remus, it’s okay. I still like you- let’s get back to work and talk later, alright?” I give him another small smile and he sighs, sending one back, nodding.

It took a short moment longer before I let go off his hand and turn back forward. I shield my warm cheeks from his view with my hair covering them now. The grin on my face suppressed.

___

“So- who’s up for a ride on our magnificent sled this fine evening?” James asks as he rounds the couch of the common room where Lilly and I sit, reading and talking. Our eyes go up to him as Sirius joins his side, throwing an arm over his shoulder and sending us mischievous smile. I roll my eyes and glance over to Lilly who’s sighing. But she wears a smile, her eyes finding mine.

“What do you say?” She asks me and I shrug my shoulders, standing up and throwing the book onto the soft cushioned couch.

“Why not, it’s beautiful outside.”

“Remus is coming as well~” Sirius is singing teasingly as he walks off with James to get ready, but not without winking at me over his shoulder. My eyes grow wide at his remark. Does he know? I tried really hard to hide that crush.

“-(Y/N)? Let’s go, come on.” Lilly pulls me out of my trance and pulls me after her at my sleeve.

“So, what’s that with you and Remus?” She asks, a small grin on her lips.

“What do you mean? Nothings going on.” I reply, maybe too quickly because Lilly sends me another big goofy grin and I roll my eyes, as she rummages through her stuff, throwing a beanie at me and one of her gryffindor scarfs.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” She mumbles and we jog back down to the common room, waiting for the boys.

As they join us, James picks up a squealing Lilly and runs ahead. Sirius carries the sleds and nods at us. “See you there, losers.” He runs off as well, yelling after them. Now it’s just Remus and me. Peter needed to rest, he’s been sick for a few days already, enjoying his peace in Madame Pomfrey’s Medical Wing.

“Are you going anywhere special this Christmas?” I ask, trying to cut the tension I felt growing. I loved that we quietly, without saying a word, decided not to run after them. We kept walking normally.

“No, just staying home, what about you?” I bury my hands deep in my pockets as we step outside, the wind instantly blowing across our skin.

“No, neither do we. My grandparents are coming over this year tho, so- that will be interesting.” I mumble and he chuckles, I glance up at him.

“I couldn’t hear what you were saying.” I realize I’ve talked into my scarf and push it down a little, my face now warm anyway.

“Hey! Watch out-“ I can’t even look at the source of the voice when a snowball hits me right on the cheek. I stumble, squeezing my eyes shut but Remus holds me before I slip.

I blink my eyes open, Remus wiping at my cheek, frowning. “Are you alright?” I nod quickly, staring into his warm eyes.

“Guys, come on!” Sirius whines and runs over.

“Seriously, be more careful Sirius.” Remus mumbles, quite annoyed as he turns to him, his hand leaving my hair, where he had also tried to get the snow wiped away.

“Aw, are you mad I threw snow at your girlfriend?” He smirks and folds his arms. I stare at the icy ground now and Remus says something under his breath while bending down and collecting a pile of snow, Sirius quickly runs off and giggles. Remus runs after him, holding his beanie as it’s slipping off.

“Get back here, Black!”

I hide my smile behind the scarf and walk toward where Lilly is watching James, who seems to struggle with a spell. He rearranged his glasses, his cheeks slightly tinted pink as he sends a shy smile over to Lilly. “I nearly got it.”

“Hey, why aren’t you sledding yet?” I ask as I join Lilly’s side.

“James wanted to make the sled bigger so- more people could fit on. But-“

“-I nearly got it, okay?” He clears his throat again and gulps. He gets so flustered, trying to prove himself to Lilly. It’s absolutely adorable. “Enlargio!”

I take a step back and Lilly follows suit. The sled grows in size, not too much either. Well, I guess successful?

“See?” He smirks and gestures toward his accomplishment. Lilly claps, her mittens muting the sound.

“Well done, you mighty wizard.” I add and he glares over, taking a pile of snow quickly. I hold my hands up.

“Sorry, sorry, please don’t- I already got enough snow in my face for today.” He chuckles and we look over to Remus still running after Sirius, he finally tackles him to the ground and pushes a snowball into Sirius’ face. We all laugh at the scene and walk over, up the hill.

“Hey, let poor Sirius go, I think he learned his lesson.” Lilly states and I nod, smirking at Remus as he stands up, out of breath, just as Sirius.

The latter stands up too, wiping himself off the snow and flares at Remus.

“What was that for anyway?” James asks and Sirius smirks through his white lashes.

“Yeah, Remus, what for?”

“I just- just don’t be so rude to-“

“-to, (Y/N)?” Sirius finishes for him and I roll my eyes, Remus sighing.

“Yes.” He grits out and I raise a brow at them both. They are standing now, facing each other again, Remus looking ready to throw another snowball if Sirius kept talking. And Sirius- well he just doesn’t know when to stop.

“Why don’t you just tell her that you like her? Maybe then I’ll stop.” He grabs more snow and strides my way, throwing a look over his shoulder at Remus. I shriek and turn, running away. But I am no way as fast as he is. He grabs me around my waist with one arm and lifts me up, laughing as I try to wriggle free. He holds his other hand close to my face, turning us to face the others.

“Come on Remus, you know what to do-“

“Sirius, stop, I’m gonna get sick-“

“I like her, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Don’t tell me, Remus, tell her-“ Sirius turns me further and I stop struggling, looking at Remus. He seems in conflict but shuts is eyes for a moment. When he looks back at me he gulps and steps forward.

“I- I really like you. A lot.” I want to throw my scarf and beanie off, that’s how hot I got and run toward him. Telling him I feel the same. But before I can even say anything I feel cold snow. My eyes back closed. I step on his foot now causing Sirius to finally let me go.

Remus is by my side once again and helps me with the snow. “I’ll kill him.” He whispers and runs his thumb across my cheek.

“You may. But- not without-“ I lean up and holds his face as I press a kiss to his lips. Brief but all I needed to tell him I return the feelings. He smiles down at me, his face now warm and eyes lingering on my lips and back up my eyes.

“I’ll be right back.” He adds quietly and runs around me, Sirius not noticing at first so they both stumble to the ground and throw snow at each other.

Lilly walks up and James follows suit. “Well, that took longer than expected- I owe Peter 5 galleons now.” I whip my head toward him and frown, he looks back at me, startled. “Did I say that out loud?” I nod at him. “Oh oh.” He turns around and runs off, me hot on his heels and Lilly joins me.

“Come back here, Potter!”

_________________________________

More Harry Potter Universe Imagines

Full Masterlist

#imagine #remus lupin x reader #remus imagine #remus x reader #maurauders #maurauders era

94 notes · View notes

stargazer-balladeer · 4 years

Text

December Fics

- Discontinued

| MAIN PAGE | TEMPLATE |

≫ I’m still going to post the alphabet headcanons and other requests. Don’t worry about that.

≫ Requests for character adding to this list is not valid. These are all of my favorite characters in each Fandoms.

≫ This fics can be headcanon, oneshot or drabble. Or maybe a headcanon and a scenario. It depends on how I feel like I should do it.

December 1: Snow (Mystic Messenger) — 707, Yoosung, Zen, Jumin, Jaehee, Saeran & V

December 2: Winter Wonder (Kingdom Hearts) — Sora, Riku, Roxas, Ventus

December 3: Snowball Fight (Pokémon) — Green Oak, Silver, Steven Stone, N, Calem, Gladion, Raihan

December 4: Cold Kisses (Persona) — Akira Kurusu, Goro Akechi, Yu Narukami, Yosuke Hanamura, Minato Arisato, Shinjiro Aragaki

December 5: Cuddles/Snuggles (Fates, Three Houses, Awakening, Echoes, Heroes) — Takumi, Leo, Kaze | Claude, Dimitri, Yuri | Chrom, Robin, Inigo | Lukas, Kliff, Python | Alfonse, Sharena

December 6: Sharing clothes [Yandere Simulator] — Osano Najimi, Amao Odayaka, Kizano Sunobu, Oko Ruto, Osorō Shidesu, Megamo Saikou, Mujo Kina, Aso Rito

December 7: Building a Snowman [Legend of Zelda] — Link, Zelda, Revali, Mipha, Urbosa, Daruk

December 8: Ice skating [Yuri! On Ice] — Yuuri Katsuki, Victor Nikiforov, Yuri Plisetsky

December 9: Baking [FNAF] — gang

December 10: Decorating the House with decorations [Obey Me] — Brothers, Purgatory Hall trio, Diavolo and Barbatos

December 11: Going to a tree lighting event [Ace Attorney] — Phoenix Wright, Miles Edgeworth, Franziska Von Karma, Apollo Justice, Athena Cykes, Sebastian Debeste, Simon Blackquill

December 12: Skiing/Snowboarding/Sledding [Assassination Classroom] — Karma, Nagisa, Chiba, Gakushu, Isogai, Maehara

December 13: Christmas movies [BNHA] — Midoriya, Todoroki, Bakugou, Hawks, Aizawa, Tamaki

December 14: Singing Christmas songs [Haikyuu!] — Karasuno, Nekoma, Fukurodani, Seijoh, Shiratorizawa

December 15: Snow Storm [Yona of the Dawn; Modern AU!] — Dragons with Yona and Yoon

December 16: Playing in the snow [Genshin Impact] — Kaeya Alberich, Diluc Ragnvindr, Xiao, Childe, Zhongli, Xiangling, Fischl, Lumine, Aether, Chongyun, Scaramouche

December 17: Drinking Hot Chocolate [Danganronpa] — Makoto Naegi, Byakuya Togami, Hajime Hinata, Nagito Komaeda, Ibuki Mioda, Chiaki Hanami, Shuichi Saihara, Kokichi Ouma

December 18: Picture [Servamp] — Mahiru, Kuro, Misono, Jeje, Hyde, Licht, Tsubaki

December 19: Wrapping gifts [Creepypasta] — Jeff the Killer, BEN Drowned, Ticci Toby, Masky & Hoodie, Lost Silver, Bloody Painter, The Puppeteer, Laughing Jack, Eyeless Jack

December 20: Build a pillow fort [Snow White with the Red Hair] — Shirayuki, Zen, Obi, Mitsuhide, Kiki

December 21: Ugly Sweaters [Harry Potter] — Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Draco Malfoy

December 22: Dancing [OHSHC] — Host Club

December 23: Under the Mistletoe [Magi] — Aladdin, Alibaba, Sinbad, Ja’far, Titus, Hakuryuu, Judal

December 24: Secret Santa [Bungou Stray Dogs] — ADC & Port Mafia

December 25: Christmas [Everyone saying their Christmas wishes to the Readers]

December 26: Exchanging Gifts [Marauder’s Era] — Marauders

December 27: Game Night [X-men] — Peter Maximoff, Kurt Wagner, Charles Xavier

December 28: Kitchen Disaster [while baking] [Miraculous Ladybug] — Marinette, Adrien, Luka, Alya, Chloe

December 29: Late Night Walks [Descendants] — Mal, Evie, Carlos, Jay, Ben, Harry Hook

December 30: Sleeping [Mystreet] — Garroth, Laurence, Aaron, Travis, Vylad

December 31: New Year [Everyone saying their new years to the readers]

253 notes · View notes

happyyyandcrazyyy · 4 years

Text

the marauders as seasons

summary: three out of the four marauders as seasons ( + lily ).

this idea just popped into my mind one day and i had to write it down.

gif’s not mine. credit to the owner.

james is like summer.

he’s the happiness that is brought by the end of the semester and the beginning of vacations. he’s the heat of sunny days, the taste of cold lemonade and the feeling of water dripping down your skin after a day swimming in the lake. he’s the excitement of quidditch matches and the buzzing of bumblebees floating around. he’s the feeling of late night adventures and deep conversations under the stars. he’s the smell of one long barbecue and the feeling of friends always being nearby. he can sometimes be like drinking alcohol during summer parties, too; a feeling of intoxication and liberation at the same time. he’s the awe of traveling to new places, exploring and discovering, the sound of ocean waves, the smell of sun lotion, the feeling of skin being warm to the touch. but, above everything else, james potter is the memories that you create during this season; eternal.

remus is like autum.

he’s the tenderness of cool air brushing your skin but also the light sun preventing you from being cold. he’s the smell of parchment and ink, a scent of home. he’s the coziness of hoodies and scarfs, the feeling of hands affectionately holding each other for the first time. he’s the calmness of the environment and the ability to fall in love with nature once again. he’s the sound of leaves crunching under your feet, the foggy light that creates a mysterious sensation around the castle, the smell of pumpkin scented candles. he’s the bright moon on a clear night, the impression that everyone and everything seems to slow down. he’s the gentleness of the air and the picturesque sceneries. but he’s also the sadness of watching the whomping willow lose its leaves, a reminder that everything comes to an end. remus lupin is the sounds and smells and sights of autumn that stir the soul, a delight mixed with a twinge of melancholy.

sirius is like winter.

he’s the warmth of the fireplace, the delicious taste of hot chocolate with melting marshmallows and the peace of being tucked in bed with only a book for company. he’s the comfort of a hug, the sound of christmas songs, the feeling of a kiss under the mistletoe. he’s late night trips to hogsmeade, stealing sweets from honeyduke’s. with those he cares about he’s the sound of laughter, he’s the affection and kindness that is spread during the holiday dinners, he’s the beautiful shimmering of the decoration lights in the christmas tree. he’s the laughter during a snowball fight, the delighted screams of enjoyment after sliding down a mountain in a sled, the twinkling of joy in children’s eyes as they open their gifts in the early christmas morning. but sirius can also be reserved. he can also be the icy cold winds, those that are frigid and paint your cheeks a rosy pink. sirius black is like snow, both alluring and beautiful but also threatening if not handled carefully.

(bonus)

lily is like spring.

she’s the rays of sunshine in the morning, the scent of coffee beans and pumpkin juice for breakfast. she’s the tweeting of birds, the exhilaration of watching flowers bloom again. she’s the caress of the warm breeze during a stressful day, the gorgeousness of a clear blue sky. she’s the tranquility of having a picnic with your friends and watching the sunset, enjoying the way the sky turns from a baby orange to a light pink. she’s a boost of energy, the taste of raindrops and the felling of soaked clothes against your skin. she’s the awakening after months of cold weather, light and beautiful. lily evans is the glee of spring, an overflowing feeling of joy and companionship.

———

i tried so hard to write peter but i just couldn’t, i really dislike his character. so instead i added lily, because she’s totally spring.

#sirius black #remus lupin #james potter #sirius black x y/n #remus lupin x y/n #james potter x y/n #harry potter #marauders x y/n #marauders era imagine #marauders era #lily evans #lily potter #the marauders as seasons #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #happyyyandcrazyyy writing

123 notes · View notes

messers-moony · 3 years

Note

Congrats on 700 followers!! That’s amazing!! Your celebration is so cute, by the way!!

❄️ my favorite season is winter, and I love the cold!! I could stay outside the entire day, sledding and making snow figures!! Any gender is fine, marauders era please :)

Sirius Black, definitely Sirius Black. He’d be so full of energy and ready to do almost anything. He loves to see you happy and is willing to try new things with you that his parents never let him do. His energy is undefeated & you two would match each other greatly.

3 notes · View notes

drzewobojczyni · 4 years

Text

How to get rid of a spy (The Penguins of Madagascar)

Dostępna polska wersja/Polish version available

When in the central park ZOO a well-known to the penguins enemy appears, the only thing they can do is sending Private to get rid of him once and for all. No pairings

Old draft finished for @2020madagascarparty theme: Missions

DeviantArt

The day looked like it was going to be just great. In the cloudless sky the sun was shining, a slight wind was blowing, and the school year was coming to an end, so the Central Park ZOO animals could be sure that a lot of visitors was going to show up. Sadly, not everything went as well as it should have. At least, not for the penguins, standing in their habitat.

"Kowalski," – asked Skipper, looking through binoculars. "Can you see what I'm seeing?

"It depends on what's on your mind," responded Kowalski. "Technically, we're looking at the same group of early school-aged children, but I'm guessing you mean a certain person, whom I'm unable to recognize from this distance."

Skipper pulled himself together and handed the binoculars to his lower rank colleague. Kowalski took a look and reacted as the squad member predicted.

"Whoa, momma!" he yelled. "It's the same kid again!"

"What kid?" asked Private, appearing from the hatch.

Kowalski quietly handed him the binoculars. Private quickly found the familiar person in the crowd – this curious, intrusive gaze and notebook with pencil, clutched in hands, could not be mistaken could not be mistaken for anyone else.

"Skipper, it's the same boy that was spying on us!"

Skipper wanted to say that he had time to notice this, but he held back, preferring not to hurt Private's feelings. The young penguin needed to trust the leader.

"Well, we've got to come up with some plan to get rid of him once and for all. Kowalski, any suggestions?"

Kowalski had already opened his beak, but before he had an opportunity to say anything, three lemurs jumped into the habitat.

"Hello, silly penguins!" yelled king Julien

"Ringtail!" groaned Skipper. "We were just going to work on a plan of an extremely important mission!"

"It won't take long, " spoke up Maurice. "You see, a lot of visitors came here today..."

"Thank you, Maurice, the king can speak for himself," interrupted him Julien. "The thing is, when the humans start to throw these fish to you... you've got to eat them quickly, so it doesn't smell!!! And if not, I'll bait Mort on you!!!"

Said lemur tried to make a scary face, but because of his small size, it wasn't effective enough.

"That's all? You don't have to remind us of such things!" said Private

"If you said everything you wanted to say, go away, there's an important meeting happening here." Skipper pushed the lemurs in the direction of their habitat. "It concerns you as well, so be so kind and don't interrupt us."

"I also meant to tell you to not let yourselves get taken away from the ZOO," Julien kept on babbling. "Because lately some human took this Mort away, and now he can't come into our ZOO! If it keeps on going, we'll be left without food from humans." He wrung his hands in despair..

Skipper stopped chasing away the lemurs immediately.

"You've got to tell me everything in detail right now!"

"You won't be ordering a king around! Mort, Maurice, we're going!"

And they were gone

"Well, we have to get necessary informations ourselves." Skipper sighed. "Private, call Rico. We're going to check out how Mort got kidnapped and why nobody told us about it. I've got some sort of plan already."

Kowalski got sad. Although he hadno idea on how to get rid of the spy, but he was deeply hurt that Skipper hadn't even let him speak up. He had no intention to debate his leader.

Firstly, the penguins headed to Marlene's habitat. They found her quietly strumming her guitar

"Hello, my friend, I see you're relaxing before the hard work of entertaining humans?" started Skipper

Marlene angrily put her guitar away

"I guess I'll never teach you respecting other's privacy, won't I? Lets get this done. What's the reason of your visit?"she asked.

"We're looking for the informations concerning the kidnapping of certain lemur named Mort," responded Kowalski.

"What, again? In any case, I know nothing about this!"

"It's fine, Marlene, we mean an event from the past," calmed her down Skipper.

"Oh, you should have said it first! Although I haven't seen much, you would be better off asking, you know, the lemurs."

"Due to the reasons independent to us," lied Skipper smoothly, "we can't cooperate with them."

"Why do I have this weird feeling that the reasons are very much dependent to you," mumbled Marlene. "Okay, I'll tell you everything I know, but I remind, there's not much of it.

"Two days ago, a school field trip came. You guys weren't here, you went on some 'secret mission', didn't you? The kids weren't happy. Most of them headed farther, but some of them were lingering. I don't know, maybe they thought that you had been hiding somewhere. Suddenly, Julien kicked Mort right next to your habitat. So, one of the marauder shoved him into his bag. Somehow, he did it so well that it was noticed only after he got into the bus. That's all I know."

"And that's enough for us," said Skipper. "Farewell, Marlene, thank you for cooperating."

After these words, the whole penguin squad left as quickly as it appeared.

For a moment Marlene pondered on what the penguins could be planning. After all, she came to conclusion that she would find out one day, and got back to playing her guitar.

"You heard this yourself, Kowalski, we have to place Private..."

"Why me?" asked Private.

"...in the bag," finished Skipper, unfazed. "Kowalski, what options do we have?"

"I suggest using my newest invention – a homing penguin-catapult. There's fifty percent chance of hitting the target."

"Let me guess – and fifty percent chance that the catapult will blow up, turning the shootee into a pile of ash?"

"How did you know?"

"A good leader can predict elements that could make accomplishing the mission harder."

"Or maybe I'll just sneak up and jump into the boy's bag?" asked the potential victim of the device, which ended up with a slap on the beak.

"Private, do not question the leader's orders!"

Private wanted to say that no order had been given, but he decided to keep quiet, afraid of another stroke.

"Kowalski, we'll use your devilish invention," decided Skipper.

Transporting the device from the base to the park – with huge contribution from Rico – took surprisingly little time, even despite the necessity of dissasembling it and reassembling it on the spot. Kowalski was typing something into the console, glancing at his notes from time to time.

"Aren't we attracting even more attention this way?" asked Private, still hoping to reason with the squad.

"Are you questioning my orders again?" growled Skipper.

"From my calculations it appears that right here we are least likely to get caught," threw Kowalski without stopping clicking.

"Listen, Private," said Skipper much quieter. "Keeping the secrecy of our squad depends on your sacrifice. It's a very honorable task, and if I were you, I'd be proud of being entrusted with it."

"Calibration finished!" yelled Kowalski.

Private shivered at these words.

"It was an honor having you in the squad," said Skipper.

"I would like to remind that there's fifty percent chance that Private survives the shot," noted Kowalski, whose pride was hurt by Skipper's doubts.

"Oh, right. In this case, good luck, soldier," he spoke to Private. "May you land in the right fifty percent."

Private hesitantly scrambled up the catapult's bucket, and instructed by Kowalski, he got into the most airdynamic position. All that was left was pressing the launch button, which Kowalski did with the pleasure that always accompanied him when testing any of his inventions. Everything seemed to go according to the plan – Private shot into the air like a rocket.

"See, even the equipment is still whole," noticed Kowalski. "According to my calculations, Private should fall into the bag in ten sec..."

In that moment the cattapult blew up in the cloud of smoke. The explosion drew attention of the ZOO visitors, including the intrusive boy, who turned around in search of noise's source. Together with him moved his bag, which was the goal of Private's flight. The penguin fell flat onto the paved with concrete bricks alley.

Meantime, the remaining penguins were shaking off from underneath of scattered parts, just a few seconds ago assembled into a handy ensemble in the form of a catapult.

"Kowalski, analysis," wheezed Skipper, not stong enough to express anger with his voice.

"I didn't predict that the catapult could blow up only after the shot, heh heh..." the penguin laughed nervously, which earned him a stroke with the wing. A cloud of soot flew into the air.

Having disciplined the scientist, Skipper put his mind into further progress of the mission.

"Binoculars!" he yelled to Rico.

Sadly, Rico inhaled a lot of soot and got a coughing attack. Kowalski wanted to perform the Heimlich maneuver on him, but because of his rapid movements he raised even more dust. Rico started to cough so strongly that he espectorated, in order: a rubber duck, ukulele, and something that looked a bit like a food processor, and a bit like a piggy bank. Luckily, a pair of binoulars joined them soon.

"I'm tracking him down, Skipper," said Kowalski, observing the terrain closely. "Wait... I think I've got him... yes, Private on the third! He landed according to my calculations... or rather he would, heven't the kid moved..."

"Is he conscious?" asked Skipper.

"Honestly, I doubt it, he's laying and not moving."

"Well then, let's go, our man is injured."

Three penguins sled to help the fourth squad member.

Meantime, Ronald tried to explain his teacher how the unconscious penguin showed up next to him.

"I'm telling you, it flew here from the park! Precisely, from over there!" He showed the direction with his hand.

"Penguins can't fly," responded Mrs Trevor

"Well, it looked more like it was thrown or shot here," the boy continued.

The woman had an unclear feeling that something like this had happened before, but she blamed it on the deja vu effect.

"All in all, it would be better to report it to one of employees," she proposed. "I think I can see someone! Wait for me!" She walked briskly towards the first person wearing a zookeepers uniform that she saw – in that case, Alice, driving a golfcart. The teacher tried to attract her attention by yelling, but the zookeeper was wearing headphones. The cart was moving farther and farther, forcing poor Mrs Trevor to run. A few students laughed, seeing this scene.

Meanwhile, the penguins were approaching their target.

Having heard Mrs Trevor's words, belittling his stories about penguins once again, Ronald sighed in despair. The boy had no idea how to prove his suspicions about the group of the birds right, and he definitely didn't want to end up like certain commonly considered a freak Mr X, about whom he often heard on the news. Although, on the other hand, another weirdo with the same obsession could direct attention of the public onto the right tracks.

Suddenly, with a corner of his eye, he noticed the penguins, sliding in his direction, which meant the risk of the unconscious bird being taken away by his peers. Ronald didn't want for it to happen during the teacher's absence. In a surge of genius he shoved the bird into the depths of his schoolbag.

Much to the boy's astonishment, the action caused the penguins to retreat suddenly into their habitat. He expected that the birds would rush to help their comrade, no matter what, but it seemed thet they were too selfish for this... or they had some other plan. Ronald was slowly starting to understand mr X.

After a moment, Mrs Trevor and the zookeeper Alice emerged from behind of the corner. The first of aforementioned women was explaining the other the circumstances of the event.

"We saw the penguin right here, didn't we, Ronald?" The teacher pointed under the boy's feet with her hand.

Alice appraised the habitat, then she moved her gaze to the boy.

"And you, I hope, had nothing to do with that?" she asked suspiciously.

"No, of course not!" He tried to hold his nervous grin back.

"If that's the case, where did he go?" asked Alice once again.

"And why didn't you stop him?" added Mrs Trevor.

The boy pondered for a moment.

"He went... in this direction!" He pointed at the park with his hand. "And I didn't stop him because I was afraid of him. I mean, I was afraid for him, I could have hurt him, and then what?"

"You'd be in trouble," mumbled Alice. "Alright, I'm going to take care of this situation." With these words, she turned arounds and walked away.

"I'll check out what the rest of the class is doing. Don't do anything stupid!" said the teacher, who left Ronald to his own devices as well.

As soon as the women left, the boy realised what he had done. The penguins seemingly let go of any attempts to save the colleague, which meant that the whole plan of revealing their secrets backfired. There was only one thing left – getting rid of the evidence imperceptingly and pretending that nothing happened. Ronald made sure that the animal hidden in his bag is still alive, and then he headed to the park.

In the bag, Private regained cosciousnes – and regretted it immediately. It was dark, stifling, and the edges of textbooks and notebooks were stabbing his body. He promised himself to never get involved in such a mission.

As if there were not enough problems, the only way of to find out his surroundings were outside sounds and the movements of the bag. From the sounds of the crowd slowly becoming quieter and rustling of the trees replacing them the penguin guessed that the boy is leaving the ZOO.

Private tried to escape before it was too late, but the velcro was holding strong, and the textbooks were giving no support. Constant jumps of the bag was not helping, either. The only thing left was waiting for a miracle.

The miracle turned out to be Alice.

The zookeeper was searching through the part of Central Park adjacent to the ZOO, asking the people about the penguin here and there. In the best cases she was met with polite denials, in the worst ones – laughter and unpleasant comments. Despite this, she was not giving up, mostly because of the spectre of paycheck cuts, or, even worse, losing her job, although concern for her charge was not leaving her alone, either.

"He couldn't run away too far," she mumbled. "You never know with these, though..."

She checked yet another bush, with no big results again. Resigned, she got up, turned around... and almost jumped, in front of herself seeing the boy, who informed her about missing penguin.

"It's you again!" she said, annoyed. "Well, then, have you seen anything?" she asked a bit nicer.

The boy shook his head, trying to hide his nervousness and the bag, in which he felt a slight movement. Luckily for him, it unnoticed by Alice.

"Okay, then." She shrugged. "If you see anything, let me know," she said, and left to search further.

Ronald was just waiting for Alice to leave him alone. He opened the bag and put the penguin on the ground. He was about to leave, when suddenly the zookeeper returned.

"I think I left..." She registered the scene unfolding in front of her. "… a pen here"

Ronald desperately tried to find some believable explanation, but before anything came to his mind, he felt as his wrist gets into Alice's iron grip.

In one hand holding the found penguin, and pulling the culprit of his disappearance with the other, the zookeeper triumphantly stepped into the ZOO. Both red-faced – although because of different reasons – they stood before the face of the teacher, who was standing next to the gate.

"Your student," said Alice, coldly as ice, "endangered thed life of on of our penguins.

"But how...?" asked Mrs Trevor, glaring at the boy, who tried to turn himself invisible with willpower.

"I put him into my bag and ran away to the park," exploded Ronald. "But you see, they were spying on me one time..."

"You must understand that I can't allow for such a situation to repeat," interrupted him Alice. "If you can't keep an eye on your students, I'm forced to ban the whole class from going to this ZOO."

"But..."

"You have ten minutes to gather the children and leave the garden. Good bye."

Alice turned around dramatically to put the badly battered flightless back in his habitat.

Meanwhile, the other penguins were observing the situation from hideout, lazily chewing popcorn. As soon as the zookeeper started to march towards their habitat, the threw the snacks between bushes and sled back to their place before she could notice their absence.

"Well, Private," said Skipper. "You managed better than I expected."

"Thank you, Skipper," responded Private. "But it's more of a coincidence..."

"Don't be so modest, you deserve a reward."

Skipper looked around. Seeing that most of the people had already left, he uncovered the base's hatch and jumped inside. The rest of the squad followed him.

Inspired by a certain post

#2020madagascarparty #Penguins of Madagascar #The Penguins of Madagascar #Penguins of Madagascar fanfiction #The Penguins of Madagascar fanfiction #my fanfiction #shit by me

21 notes · View notes

transmechanicus · 4 years

Text

Some tips for Doom Eternal:

Marauders get absolutely DECKED by Crossbow shots. 4-5 get a kill compared to WAY TOO MANY Super Shotgun blasts.

Doom Hunters only take two rocket bursts after their shields are down to destroy the sled, one more to stagger.

Tyrants, especially in Slayer Gates, are NOT a priority. They’re slow, line of sight danger only, and can basically be saved for last while you get more aggressive demons off your ass.

Set Archviles on fire. This isn’t a useful tip, but the irony is hilarious.

Secret Encounters seem to be structured to encourage whatever weapon is retrieved in a level. That being said, the mobile turret Chaingun works just as well almost every time.

Tell VEGA you love him. Constantly. It brings good luck.

Fully upgrade the Super Shotgun, because hooking a demon’s face and blasting its chest open once or twice works for everything short of super heavies.

Pick the sexiest armor you can find, it makes you do more damage I swear

Punch every single UAC hologram

Even if your blood punch isn’t charged, punching a demon can still give you half a second of breathing room and some space. Beat their asses like a drum if you get cornered.

Optimal BFG time is typically whenever you just got ammo for it

Feel free to add more!

#my stuff #doom eternal

200 notes · View notes

fairytalelover33 · 3 years

Note

Hi there! May I get four romantic matchups? There's no rush at all. :)

Intp // Ravenclaw // Pisces // Female // Hetero

Lotr, narnia, hp (marauders), and disney

I'm generally a quiet person who loves to observes people. If a person is interesting or a person is interested in me, I initiate the conversation. I don't like small talk but more than willing to find a topic we both enjoy. My favorite things to talk about is the arts (fine arts, literature, cinema, and concerts) and science (multiverse theory, plant bio, human anatomy). I can get pretty passionate about certain ideas or opinions I hold highly. However, I don't show hostility towards different opinions. I prefer tact in most cases.

Likes: tea, rainshowers, owls

Dislikes: early mornings, compromised beliefs, excessive apologies

Hobbies: drawing, reading, language learning, and writing

For LOTR I ship you with: Aragorn!

•You two both love to observe, so now you have someone to discuss your findings with!

•You are the definitely someone he could see ruling by his side. Your strength in your beliefs and kindness to those who are different from you would make you an amazing Queen

•He will bring you to stay in Rivendell often, and he will tell you anything you want to know about the arts there

•He gets Sam up early to start cooking breakfast, he’s found the smell of cooking food coaxes you to get up faster

•While on the quest, it rains occasionally. The Hobbits aren’t big fans, so the more capable people in the fellowship build a cozy branch shelter to keep the rain out. Aragorn settles down at the entrance to the hut, and pats the spot next to him for you to sit. He’ll wrap his cloak and arm around you, the cool air that comes with rainfall surrounding you. The smell of the damp forest flows in. The occasional cool drop of rain settles on your lashes, and Samwise passes you a warm cup of tea <3

For Narnia, I ship you with: Edmund Pevensie!:

•He will make sure you have access to every fine art Narnia has to offer

•I can definitely see you being good friends with his sisters, you three have tea every Wednesday afternoon

•The King of persuasion admires your tact in disagreements. He couldn’t handle another Peter in his life

•Speaking of Peter, he approves of your relationship. Edmund still finds a way to tease him about his formal approval.

•” That’s really magnificent Peter.”

•”EDDDDDDD sHuT uP”

•He enjoys spending free time with you in the extensive library of Cair Paravel. You both can usually be found sprawled out on one of the Library couches, one of you holding a book while the other snuggles closer to read it too <3

For The Marauders, I ship you with: Remus Lupin!

•He enjoys quiet days with you, just drinking tea, reading books, and writing anything that pops up in your minds

•I definitely think you start up the first conversation, and you find out pretty quick he’s not fond of small talk either

•He loves listening to you talk about the multiverse theory, he also loves to learn and hear your findings on things you’re passionate about

•He loves that you’re passionate about things you believe in, but he loves even more how you handle yourself in disagreements

•For your birthday, he buys you an owl of your choosing, I see the most adorable scene. You both sit at a table in the common room, he’s watching your face as he reveals the owl. You both sit there for a long time, looking at the owl, having cute little conversations, and when you go up to bed, a chocolate bar waits on your nightstand <3

For Disney, I ship you with: Kristoff!

•He is literally a giant teddy bear, and he’s ALWAYS talking so you don’t have to worry about small talk when you both meet new people

•He always has tea for you. Literally. You will never have to wish for tea again

•He asks you to draw random things all the time

•”Can you draw that tree?” “Can you draw Sven?”

•You go exploring with the sled all the time

•The snow will be flying in each of your faces, your noses red with cold, laughter ringing in the air. The sled flies through the deep snow, icicles sparkling along the path <3

I hope you liked this!!!! Have an amazing day! ❤️

-J

#narnia #Narnia matchup #Harry Potter matchup #LOTR matchup

5 notes · View notes

ussgallifrey · 5 years

Text

Winter Wonderland

✦ Summary: Bucky awakens to the aftermath of a blizzard and several eager children begging to go outside. ✦ Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader ✦ Word Count: 1.6k ✦ Author’s Note: I was working on a Steve/Reader oneshot, and then it snowed and my husband took our oldest outside to build a snowman and this happened.

The heavy blanket of sleep is broken by the shimmering light dancing off the windowpane. Dreams pull away with a hazy tide, reality tugs him closer. The air is chilled, and he has half the mind to tuck his nose down into the pillow - seeking out a bit of warmth in the otherwise frigid room.

Next to him, under the sheets and blankets and crocheted blanket, you doze on. Not even slightly bothered by the drop in temperature. Though perhaps that was just him, with a body more susceptible to the sharp aches and pains of a cold day.

Your chest rises and falls with a steady beat, constant and encompassing of something bright in his morning-haggard mind. Bucky watches you sleep, traces the curve of your body, turned away from him like you had been when you had first fallen asleep. Curled into his side, one hand on your hip and the other above your head.

Only now, he wants to draw you back in. Savor that easy comfort of his wife’s warmth pressed into him. Wake you with kisses and praise and everything he can give. But you deserve more, so much more. And sleep is a precious commodity these days, one he will gladly give above all else if given the chance.

Lazy thoughts intrude his mind as he dips his hand down, just cupping the curve of your protruding bump. That gorgeous swell under the delicate fabric of your nightgown. It makes his head go all fuzzy at the thought of another little Barnes. Right there under his palm, gently kicking away.

He has half a mind to tell the kid off, to let you sleep a while longer. But there’s a sudden clatter in the room next door. Bucky can hear an excited squeal followed by a series of hushes. Rubbing the swell of your belly one last time, he finally extracts himself from the covers and is hit with an instant blast of cold. The housecoat at the end of the bed will do little to fend off the temperature, but at least it’s something.

Pausing outside of the door, Bucky listens to the muffled voices inside. When he opens it rather suddenly, he finds George and Ruthie trying to corral Richie down from his perch on the bookcase.

“Daddy,” his daughter is quick to lament. “We tried to get him down, honest. We weren’t trying to wake Mama.”

It takes three strides to cross the room and pull the second youngest down, depositing him in a fit of giggles onto his bed.

“Come on, you’re gonna wake Mom!” George hushes harshly with a finger drawn to his lips.

That perks the four-year-old right up, unfortunately, “I wanna see Mama.”

Bucky pulls him back by the collar of his pajamas before he can make it a second step across the floor. Hands under the arms and Richie is brought to his lap. Staring down at identical blue eyes, he ruffles the mop of hair on his son’s head.

“What were you doing up there anyway, bud?”

His eyes widen with pure wonder, “Snowing outside! ”

He clambers up on his feet, straining to look out the window. Bucky cranes his neck and ends up standing just to look out. Past the iced-over pane, he can just make out the opposite row of Brownstones. But between them is a thick blanket of snow. Beautiful and glittering in the morning light. Not a soul in sight, or car for that matter.

In fact, he peers down the street, catching the glimmer of one buried under a substantial amount of snow. The news had called for a storm, but he hadn’t been expecting this much.

“Dad,” George beckons with a hopeful tone, holding Mary on his hip. “Can we go?”

The kids seem to surround him in a moment of pouted lips and pleading eyes. And all he sees is your face reflected back, and he’s never been able to say no to you - it certainly wouldn’t change with your kids.

After a relenting yes, they scatter off in search of clothes and boots. A bathroom trip for Ruth and a diaper change for Mary. He slips back into the sanctuary of the bedroom to find you, thankfully, undisturbed. Trousers on and suspenders snapped in place. Bucky snatches the knitted scarf from the heat register where it had been drying overnight.

Coats checked, buttons realigned, gloves and mittens tightened and boots double knotted, and lastly a hat for each head. George leads the way, taking the first step into the freshly fallen snow. It crunches under his feet as the rest of the clan makes their way out of the house.

Richie bounces with glee and Mary nearly falls out of Bucky’s grip in her state of wonderment, trying to grab the snow from the railing. The steps are covered, almost to Richie’s knee, but a path is quickly made, and once they’re on the sidewalk, Bucky lets them loose.

They seem entirely unsure at first - as if they were disturbing a moment of full tranquility. But the moment quickly passes when a handful of snow is thrown. And then eager shrieks and screams give way.

From there, the neighborhood seems to awaken. Stumbling out into the remnants of the blizzard with curious expressions and amazement. The kids all run off in different directions. A snowball fight ensues by the corner, Ruthie seems to have traveled off to make snow angels away from the chaos. Some of them are trying to slide down the back of snow-covered cars to surprisingly good results.

He watches from the sidewalk, shoveling a path with a languid pace. No need to rush, the streets wouldn’t be cleared for a day, if not longer. For now, it was a true winter wonderland.

Mary wanders back over to his side. Cherub cheeks have gone red, with a bright nose to match. He can’t help the smile that bubbles up at the sight of her. So, he gets down at her level and lets her nuzzle her face into the shirt under his opened wool coat.

A snowman, small and modest, is done up at the bottom of the stairs, just beyond the sidewalk. In perfect view of a certain window. They convince him to give up his hat, and he does. Forgoing the provided warmth for their delight.

They all seem quite proud of their work, scattering off shortly after, joining in on the pulled sled race at the end of the street.

Bucky surveys the scene, catching a glimpse of each child happily lost in the bliss of winter snow. Slowly, he turns, following the wisp of breath caught in the air. And then he lands on you.

Staring out the bedroom window, you give a little wave. And with a rather foolish grin on his face, he waves back. You’re covering your mouth with your hand, an amused look playing in your eyes. He wants to walk back inside, swoop you into his arms and make you startle with the chill of his lips. But a fat glob of snow is hurled at the back of his head.

Frozen ice drips down his neck and seeps into his coat, he startles with a rough and undignified gasp. Chasing after the brave boy who had dared to throw it. Launching over the drifts, he catches George by the waist and hauls him over his back with screams of protest.

When the sun is high in the sky, they make their way back inside. Some protesting, some grateful (him, mostly). You greet them with a kiss as you pull each wet hat off their head. Pressing painted lips to rosy cheeks. He gets the longest, of course. Cupping that beautiful curve of stomach resting between you as you rustle his untamed trusses, damp from the snow.

“Couldn’t even warn a fella,” he accuses lightly, tapping the tip of your nose with a cold finger.

You give a little pout, your eyes sparkle, “And here I thought my husband could handle the savage marauders.”

His hands settle on your hips, swaying lightly in the entryway as the kids deposit their coats and boots by the fireplace.

“They’re ruthless, darlin’. Absolutely ruthless.”

As if to further his point, Richie comes running over with a roar. His hands and face are freezing as they slam into Bucky’s chest. He can’t help the gasp of air that catches in his throat. You smile down at him before sweeping the four-year-old to the kitchen table where you have a spread awaiting them.

And, oh yes, coffee.

You patiently listen to each story, of glorious adventures in the snow. Chiding lightly, reprimanding here, swiping a napkin over sticky fingers and stained lips there. You move with a grace and ease that he’ll never achieve. And with that glorious bump impeding your movement to boot!

Bucky’s content to just watch the scene play out. Of two children reeling over a full day off from school with a seemingly endless bounty of opportunities awaiting them outside the door. You catch his gaze across the table.

As much as he would have loved to stay in that heavenly bed with you all morning, knowing you got a small reprieve from the usual madness is enough to make Bucky feel truly content. He nurses his mug of steaming hot brew, holding your stare. Your eyes glisten with something sweet.

And later, when the kids are rushing back outside and he’s got you well and truly wrapped up in his arms, he preens. Not a bad way to start the day, indeed.

Want to be added? Send me an ask ❤

#bucky barnes x female reader #40s!bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x female reader #40s!bucky x female reader #bucky barnes one shot #marvel fan fic #my fic

393 notes · View notes