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robynlilyblack · 2 years

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One Day at a Time

Chapter 1: November 3rd 1981

Remus Lupin x fem! marauder! reader (eventually)

Summary: Even when you escape, you never truly escape

Warnings: swearing, mentions of past relationships (Sirius x reader), feeling sick, death, torture, as well as not eating and a lack of appetite, canon character deaths, angst, slight trauma, grief, bittersweet fluff

A/n: 6.4k words, thank you to everyone thats already showed support i'm so excited for this series its not even real xx

Navigation | Remus Lupin Masterlist | Prologue | Chapter 2

Your head leant against the window, the trains soft vibrations on the glass near lulling you to sleep as you watched the cityscape you had grown accustomed to shift into rolling fields, moodily beautiful forestry, and the occasional pretty village. You had no idea how far it was now to Cardiff, time had no meaning for you anymore, not when you had a future or past to look fondly towards or back on

Betrayal is a fickle thing. There were 9 people in this world you trusted with your life. There was the four who were your best friends, your fellow marauders, yet now two lay dead, one you hoped was were you were headed and the other in a cell for it all. There was the three you saw as sisters, all gone, one saving her child, another died unarmed, the last in vengeance of the second. And finally there were two, the soulmates who were now only here physically, their minds long gone

“Bless you” you whisper when the lady across from you sneezes, the same one from the station earlier

She gives you that funny smile again, that kind smile laced with gratitude yet had clear concern and, dare say, pity sown in there too. You watch as she wipes her nose and returns to her morning paper, softly flicking the page and folding it around on itself as she presumably starts the crossword in it. While she pulls out a pen your gaze drifts down to the article now painted on the back, that ache in your chest returning

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- Mass London street murderer sentenced for life The man who killed 13 civilians in an explosion in broad daylight has been handed a life sentence. Witnesses of the scene said they heard his former friend exclaim he was responsible for killing another young couple who passed the night before on Halloween. Twenty-one-year-old, S… -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Sucking a sharp breath, you look out the window once more, holding the tears back with such force your nose feels like it’s burning. You didn’t want to cry, not because you were in public, in that moment you couldn’t care less, no, you didn’t want to cry because you knew you would never stop if you did, let alone survive another wave alone

Watching the world whisk by you distantly heard an announcement, you were approaching…something, border for wales, the next stop, final stop you didn’t know. Your eyes merely bounced over the environment, imagining a person running and jumping over all the obstacles which came their way. You figured the person was yourself, running away from the darkness of London, trying to escape to the light, to Remus who was most likely engulfed in the same darkness

That was if he knew of course, Mary had mentioned days ago she was trying to get a hold of him, but with the moon being only days prior to that fateful night it was likely he was too weak to pick up

Your eyes fluttered as the train passed under a bridge. It takes a second for your eyes to focus once more when you exit and find your now looking at a large open field, but when they do your heart leaps and shatters all at once at the sight of a lone stag in the center

“James” you whisper quietly, hand touching the window as the animal looks in your direction, making eye contact

You keep your eyes fixed on him for as long as you can, barley even letting yourself blink as you refuse to lose one second of it, for once he’s gone you’ll never see him again…you’re never going to see James again. You knew this already yet suddenly it was hitting you all over again and you felt like you were going to throw up

“Can you watch my stuff?” you ask the lady a little breathless, clearly distressed but you hide it mildly well as you gesture to your bags

She nods “Of course dear” and gives you a smile

With that you stand, making your way through the train towards the bathroom, ignoring the looks of the people you pass by who are most likely judging your attire and wild hair. Shakily you reach the bathroom just as someone else on the other side is approaching with who you assume is their child

“Oh hello” he greets, head tilting as he takes in your appearance “You can go first if you want” he offers earning a frustrated pout from his toddler

“No no” you shake your head “Please” you wave your hand towards the door, letting them go in and the man gives you a thankful smile

As the child trails behind they look up at you, eyes piercing your soul for a moment before the door closes and your body collapses into the wall. Hand pressed against it as you try to manage your breathing, not only was James’ death real but Lily’s, the universe really said fuck you when she put a child with big green eyes before you

Your heart was sand at this point, the waves of grief grinding it down until you were left with dust, mind replaying all your best memories but at the end he always arrived, in his prison rags laughing like he did in the newspaper.

“Thank you…a-are you alright there?” the man says as he exits the bathroom while the child already rushing off down the train to hug what must be his partner

Turning around you put on your best face “Just a little motion sick is all” you wave it off “Haven’t been on a train for almost 3 years”

He nods “My husbands the same, he used to go to some private school up north” he tells you with a fond smile and your eyes look back down the carriage, squinting as you recognise the boy, a Ravenclaw, who was the year above your own

Good to know someone made it out, you think and for the first time you felt a brief smile cross your face

“You have a beautiful family” you look back at him, seeing his smile grow before he takes a few paces towards them

“Hope you feel better soon” he turns back to which you whisper a quiet ‘thank you’ before entering the bathroom

Calmly you lock the door then take a step into the small room, but as your eyes meet the mirror you grimace at yourself. You looked broken in every essence of the word. A shell of your former self. The girl that laughed and shouted with her friends, that loved with everything and never gone in half-heartedly, that thought she found a boy just like her only to find out he was actually a monster

Yeah…maybe broken was an understatement

A thump formed in your throat, the brief and fleeting happy feeling gone like all the rest and the guilt of feeling good for even a millisecond sank in. Your knees give way and you collapse to the floor, clutching the sides of the toilet as you try to calm yourself down. You must have stayed there for a good few minutes before falling to your side, one hand still gripping the bowl

As your senses returned you cringed “Ew” you look at your hands, closing your eyes as you realised you just held on to a public toilet, merlin a train toilet for that matter

Treacherously you stand up using the sink for help, holding on it as you looked into the mirror once more. No, you weren’t a shell, you were a completely different person. Once you led people on missions, face the darkest wizards, concurred your fear, the idea of your own mortality but grief was a different kind of pain, lace that with betray and heartbreak you have a deadly combination. The kind that destroys and changes you in a way nothing else can

Your hands find the soap dispenser, letting out a sigh in relief that it was actually filled. Rubbing the soap between your fingers started like any other, but slowly your movements got rougher, trying to remove something you couldn’t see.

Him

Your brain still couldn’t understand it, process it, everything was fine, there were no signs, everything…was…fine…

“Shit” you wince shaking your hand after accidently punching the metal bowl

Holding your hand for a second you groan, breathing out through your nose and closing your eyes, before opening them and beginning to rinse. You felt so lied to, so violated, used, yet somehow despite trying to do the opposite you still loved him. The guilt of doing such when he killed your friends was overwhelming when paired with the contrast of sheer sadness of knowing he was current rotting in a cell, all alone, on his birthdays of all days

Pulling some paper sheets from the holder you dry your hands, listening to the announcement as you feel the train slow down. Final stop before Cardiff.

You wished for solace knowing you were almost there but really you honestly had no idea where Remus was, no one did, Mary was trying to contact him yet there was no proof he was in wales at all. You were running on blind hope, practically fumes at this point but it was all you had.

Everything was gone, even your apartment that was now sullen with corrupted memories had been ripped apart by the Mistry in their ‘search’. Search being an excuse to destroy anything you owned, to ask you a million grilling questions you didn’t know the answers to until Moody had to force them to leave as they reached the point it was just pure cruelty

Taking a deep breath, you left the bathroom, sliding past those getting ready to exit the train but just as you were getting back to your seat you bumped into someone, hearing the man apologise

“Sorry darlin’”

Flashback – 1st September 1971

“Sorry darlin’”

Looking up from the ground you saw a boy with raven curls, big grey eyes wearing a sorry smile on his face as he kneels down

“You okay?” he asks and when you nod slowly he looks a little disheartened “You already know who I am don’t ya?”

You tilt your head confused “I don’t know anyone” you confess biting your lip

“No one?” it was his turn to look confused

“I got a letter in the post…are we really wizards?” you whisper the last part so innocently it makes the boys eyes sparkle

“You’re a muggleborn?” he wonders and you shrug unsure “Muggleborn means you were born in a muggle family; your parents don’t have magic” he explains and your dementor picks up

“Oh then yes” you nod quickly, sitting up a bit “My parents were so confused but then the more we thought about it, it kinda made sense” you say excited the shy nature from before dissipating in front of him

He smiles brightly “Make sense?” he questions intrigued

“One time this boy was bullying one of my cousins and for years I swore it was me that made him suddenly fall backwards into the lake” you tell him and he bursts out laughing, sounding so free you join him

“I think we’re going to be great friends then” he winks and your stomach flutters with something you wouldn’t understand until you were older “Why don’t you…” he’s cut off

“Get out of the way Black” you turn your head and look upwards, finding a boy with platinum hair who must have been a senior

His gaze is menacing on you as Sirius helps you stand up “Name” he asks sharply and you jump a little

“Y/n” you answer meekly

He rolls his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh “Last name girl” he demands looking beyond annoyed

“Y/l/n” you reply even weaker than before

His eyes flick to the raven-haired boy, face morphing to disappointment “I suggest you stay away from this filth Black. Your family doesn’t need another Andromeda” he warns and with that he walks off, leaving you to shrink into yourself

“Andy’s the only one with a brain” you hear the boy mutter before turning back to you, hand tentatively taking yours “Don’t listen to him, he’s an arsehole. You aren’t filth, if anything your purer than any of us” he assures you

“Us?” your eyebrows furrow

“Purebloods…but that’s not important right now” he shakes his head “Let’s go find a seat” he nods beginning to walk away

“You aren’t going to leave me, right?” you ask glancing down the train in the direction that mean boy walked off now feeling his hand slip from yours

There’s no answer. As you turn back the young boy is gone, replaced by his older-self down the hall, looming, dressed in rags and laughing as he begins stalking towards you

You start backing away, progressively moving faster until you try to turn and fall to the ground…

End of Flashback

“Miss please move”

You head snaps up to the taller gentlemen, glancing around to see the entire train staring at you

Eyes widening you nod and stumbled sideways into your seat “Sorry” you apologise but you highly doubt he even heard it

The man looks at you in mild concern before quickly walking off of the train, other passengers doing something similar, returning to their papers, conversations and whatnot.

Your face felt warm, embarrassed that even your conscious self was struggling to escape him now

You shrugged off your jacket, letting it crumple behind your back as you checked your bags, making sure nothing was stolen as the lady had fallen asleep across from you. Your head then turned to the window, glazing over the crowd at the station but your focus is brought by one couple reuniting.

Your glad the train begins to move, and you begin busying yourself. Unzipping your backpack and digging out a cheap map you bought earlier. The rest of the journey was spent plotting your route, trying to find the nearest bus or train stations that could potentially get you there, even a hotel in case you failed to find him today

You knew roughly where Remus lived, he’d pointed it out to you himself on a map, but this was an old address, that of his parents’ house, and one you knew for a fact they didn’t live in anymore. It was a silly thing to just travel across the country like this, but you needed your best friend, and you just knew he was going to need you too. So as silly as the journey was, as much as the odds were against it, you had to try

“Rydyn ni nawr yn agosáu at ben y daith, Caerdydd. Gwnewch yn siŵr eich bod yn cymryd eich holl eiddo a chael diwrnod bendigedig”

That caught your attention, sure there had been other announcements but you were pretty sure that either you just suffered a minor stroke, or that was the man was speaking welsh

“Excuse me” you say to the lady across from you as she begins packing up “What did that day?”

She stops her movement “We’re now in Cardiff dear. The final stop” she informs and you nod “First time in wales?” she makes small talk for the first time as the train begins to slow

“Yeah” you admit, slipping your jacket back on along with a scarf

“Visiting someone?” she wonders as she gathers her bags, and you sling yours over your shoulder and fiddle with the handle of your suitcase

You bob your head, following behind her as she joins the small line of people waiting to get off “Yeah, something like that” you say, following her as you slowly make your way down the carriage to the door

She hums “Well I wish you luck” she says after you both step off the train “Take care of yourself dear”

“Ditto” you say giving her a small smile which she returns before heading off

You follow her and the rest of the crowd, assuming they would likely lead you towards some kind of exit. Eventually you enter an arched room, it was beautiful, as much as you liked London, Cardiff’s station was nicer, quainter. You glanced over to see a small shop, your stomach growling as you saw the small row of baked goods but that’s not why you entered the small space

Your fingers found the reason, a small smile gracing your face as you pick it up. Chocolate. Remus’ favourite brand, the one he always blabbed about and swore it was better than any wizard version. Your thumb slid over the paper packaging, eyes lingering on it before you turned and headed to the cashier

“This all for ya mam?” the young boy asks, he couldn’t have been more than a couple years your junior, but the war had made you feel so old so young

“Yeah” you nod, grabbing your wallet from your jacket pocket

He glances over the little book next to him, checking the pricing “That will be 30p” he smiles

Your fingers dig in to grab the change, handing it over to the boy who promptly takes it and sorts it in the register

“Thank you, mam, and have a nice day. You chose well” he tells you

You let out a singular chuckle, holding up the bar as you turn to leave “Thanks kid”

Walking away you tuck the bar into the outer pocket of your backpack then head out of the main exit. It took longer than you cared to admit to find a bus station that took you to Remus’ home town, mostly because you didn’t realise a lot of the towns were written in welsh first, a mistake you should have predicted as you and James did the same thing back in the day when you visited Inverness

The bus was nothing special, but it was quiet and a smooth ride, the scenery however, that was something. As you headed north and out of Cardiff it grew so beautiful, and you were in awe as you saw mountains looming in the distance. Hogwarts and the highlands were wonderful in a wild kind of way, but Wales was magical all on its own, a sight if you were honest was one you’d happily look at forever

“Little lady?” the driver calls out, drawing your attention “This is your stop” he smiles, and continued to as you gathered your things, not one person on the bus annoyed at you taking your time…guess that’s country living for ya

“Thank you” you say as you get off the bus, waving to him as it sets off again

Dragging your bags to the inner section of the path you take out the letter, ready to ask someone how to get to it since your map didn’t have the lower classed streets and roads recorded on it

“Do you know the way to this address” you ask a woman who must have been around your age passing by but she blanks you, going so far as to turn her nose up at your appearance “Thanks for nothing” you mutter as she continues on her merry bitch of a way

Perhaps there’re still arseholes in the country too

You looked down at yourself, you knew you looked a state but if people only knew what had been raging on in the background all these years they’d thing you looked surprising well given the circumstances

Looking around you spot another person around the same age as yourself, attire similar to your friend…merlin probably an exact copy, only difference was his complexion, that similar to another dear friend

“Excuse me!” you call out

The man stops in his tracks, looking at you then behind him before pointing to himself “You taking to me missy?” he says a little amused

“Yeah” you nod, walking up to him and holding out the bit of paper “Do you know how to get here?” you ask, letting hope fill you just a little as you have a good feeling about him

We also had a good feeling…no! stop it!

You push down the sinking feeling to watch the man’s reaction, head tilting as his eyebrows furrow a second before he looks back up at you with a smile

“This is little ways west of here, kinda in the middle of nowhere but I can give you a lift” he points his thumb behind him

You lean to the side, looking behind him to see an older beaten land rover and you eye him “You aren’t an axe murderer, right?” you check causing him to laugh

“No not an axe murderer…that’s to messy. I prefer strangling ya see” he motions in the air “Much more intimate” he tells you voice flooded with sarcasm

You actually giggle

“You’re silly” you comment, he really did remind you of Remus, but also of James…that was definitely a James kind of joke

“Thank you” he smiles, taking it as a compliment “So, you want that lift?” he confirms and begins walking as you nod

He opens boot, allowing you to put your bags in before leading you around to the passenger side

“Your carriage milady” he opens the door and you can’t stop the giggle again as you climb in, still smiling lightly as he climbs in the driver’s seat “I’m Cillian by the way, Cillian McConnell” he introduces himself

“And I thought you’d be the welsh strangler” you jest and he chuckles turning on the engine “I’m y/n…wait” you stop yourself, registering the last name “You don’t happen to have a brother called Alex, would ya?”

His eyes light up “Yeah I do! You know him?” he wonders, pushing the gear into first but doesn’t take his foot off the clutch just yet

“Yeah, we went to school together” you tell him, unsure if he was aware of his brothers magic or was happy about it, although he didn’t strike you as a Petunia

“Oh” he eyes you a little differently but not in a bad way “So your…” he waves his hands in small circles and wiggles his fingers

You chuckle “Yes I’m…” you copy his movements

He nods impressed “That’s pretty neat” he turns back to the road, checking his mirror before pulling away “The house is less than 10 minutes away”

“Cool” you hum “Cillian. Alex, is he?” you insinuate, from his reaction earlier you feel you know the answer yet you still had to ask

He glances at you “Yeah, he’s fine” he lets you know and you relax in the seat “He doesn’t really talk about it. All he told me was it was over now, so…if you don’t want to answer i-it’s fine” he makes sure

“It’s okay” you say even if it isn’t, only agreeing as he wouldn’t know the complete details and was unlikely to ask about him

“Did you lose anyone?” he inquires softly, flicking the indicator as you slow to a small T-junction

You nod “Almost everyone…in…in some sense of the word” you tell him sadly remembering the fate of Alice and Frank, and earning a similar look back from him before he turns the car

“I can’t even begin to imagine. Just the idea of losing Alex destroyed me” he confesses “I’m so sorry” he says genuinely and you realise on a rather gloomy note that he’s been the first to actually say that to you

“Thank you”

He gives you a small smile “So, who are you looking for?” he wonders “Old friend, boyfriend? Girlfriend?”

“Old friend” you clarify “He doesn’t know our friends are…well” you take a breath

“You don’t have to say it” he assures you

You give him a thankful look as his eyes meet yours just before he turns onto a track road

“He’ll need me” is all you say

“And you’ll need him?” he states with a small smile you return nodding “The cottage it just up here by the way” he points up the hill

You lean you head forward to look, catching glimpse of a small cottage, a little worn down but pretty none the less. There was a field surrounding it leading down to dense forestry, Cillian was right it was in the middle of nowhere, yet nowhere was perfect for someone with your friends’ condition

The car slowly comes to a stop

You turn back to Cillian to find him pulling up the handbrake and setting the car into neutral “I can’t take us any closer in this but I can help carry your bags if you want?” he offers but you shake your head

“It’s alright, it’s no trouble…besides I’m…” you do the weird gesture again “…remember?” you giggle a little and he chuckles

You then hop out of the car, grabbing your stuff from the boot before returning to the window he and already leaned over to roll down

“I guess this is it missy” he smiles, still leaning over the gearbox

“Guess it is” you nod “Thank you welsh strangler”

He chuckles “You’re welcome mystery girl” he wiggles his fingers again and throws you a wink

You take a step back, giving Cillian a wave as he turns the trunk around and heads back down the track. As his car shrinks into the woodland you turn your sights to cottage, heart picking up just a bit as you see smoke climbing from the chimney

Gripping your bag and suitcase tighter you make your way up the overgrown cobble path, cursing a little as your ankle catches a jaggy nettle yet the pain is forgotten as you draw closer

“Please be in there moony” you whisper reaching the front door

You swing your case next to you, pushing down the handle before taking a deep breath and knocking. You wait a couple of moments before knocking a little louder, hope fading as there is no answer

Please, you knock again

“Remus!” you call out, tears beginning well and fall as your head leans on the door “Please” you shakily plead

You were ready to collapse to your knees when you heard the distant patter of footsteps approaching, followed by the rattling of locks and jangle of keys. Your head lifts, watching as the door opens to reveal your friend, fulling crying, pale and looking just as broken as you do

“Y/n?” he breaths out, blinking in disbelief

Mary had called him last night, explaining everything that happened and he hadn’t been able to stop crying since. James and Lily were dead. Peter was dead. And he was responsible for it all. He honestly didn’t want to believe it, hoped there was some mistake but seeing you now only confirmed the worst

Letting out sob you drop your bag from your shoulder and launch yourself into his chest, wrapping your arms around him tightly. It doesn’t take long for him to do the same, arms moving to hold to you closely as you both begin to slowly sink to the floor.

Neither of you say anything for the longest time, just embrace each other as you cried your hearts out.

Remus was the first to pull himself somewhat together, his eyes drifting to the still open door, along with your suitcase and bag. He looked down at your sobbing figure and his heart broke all over again. He may have felt betrayed by him, but his betrayal of you was on a whole other level, you and he had a love story that rivalled Lily and James, and even now Remus highly doubted that he was faking his affections towards you all those years

“Moony?” he hears you say so quietly, voice hoarse

He brings your head out to look at him “Yeah bugs” he uses your old nickname as well, the two of you finding comfort in them

“Can I…” you sniff looking back at your bags, you press your hands to your face briefly wiping the tears before looking back at him “Ca-” you can hardly speak

“Course bugs” he understands what you’re asking, kissing your forehead

Remus slowly stands up, still achy from the moon but the physical pain was nothing to his emotional wounds. He picks up your bags and brings them in, closing the door behind him and locking it up once more. He didn’t think twice about letting you stay. He didn’t want to be alone…he needed you just as much as you needed him

You just stayed on the floor, no more tears to cry so you just looked around his home, it was a little messy but it was homely, smelt of chocolate, books, smoke…just like Remus.

“Bugs” he continues to use the nickname, reminding you both of a better time

You look up at him then his extended hands, taking a moment before you accept them, letting him pull you to your feet. Neither speaking as he leads you over to his dining table, his rough hand never leaving yours until he sits you down

“Are you hungry?” he asks but you shake your head “Bugs when was the last time you ate?” he kneels down, hands running up and down your legs soothingly

You shrug “Barley…Couldn’t keep anything down after…Lily and James…when S-he…” you can’t say it, you couldn’t bear to use his name hand reaching out to find Remus’

He takes it softly into his larger one, bringing it to his lips and kissing your knuckles

“I’m going to make us some food okay?” he tells you and you pout nodding “It’ll make you feel better” he assures you

Your lips tug up holding out your hand in a ‘gimmie’ motion and he tilts his head

“You can’t say your catchphrase and not give me some” you explain seeing his eyes light up briefly

He chuckles, going into his pocket and taking out some but as you go to take it he holds it back “You’ll get this when you eat dinner” he eyes you

You give him a glare “You’re mean”

“I am but your stomach will thank me later” he kisses your forehead “Nice try” he chuckles swatting your hand as you try to swipe it

You huff as he moves away, but for the first-time things felt normal.

Shifting around you lean on the table watching Remus as he made food, chin resting on your crossed arms “How did you find out?” you say after a few minutes

He glances back “Mary called” he replies turning on the stove and moving over to sit next you as he waits on it boiling “You?” he wonders

“Ministry showed up at my door…looking for…” you lift your head up to see him looking at you sadly “They destroyed the place as they searched everywhere…and just when they had violated my flat enough they kept asking me all these questions over and over…” you start to feel overwhelmed remembering “…I didn’t know the answers and they just wouldn’t stop Moony” you can’t finish but he is smart enough to know, moving his hand out to cup yours, thumb running over your knuckles

“Hey” he coos “Why don’t we just…” he shakes his head “…just pretend for a moment. We can talk about all this tomorrow or next week” he lets out an empty laugh

“Or next year” you mutter through the tears

“Or never” he chuckles as do you “Go unpack your stuff, I’m sure there is room in my closet, and put on something comfy. I’ll make the food” he says, giving you a comforting look

You lift his hand up and kiss his knuckles “I missed you” you look him right in the eye

You really did, Remus was your closest friend, dare say your best friend after him. You used to be the one that healed his wounds, studied with him when the others wanted to skip, went with him to book stores…you hadn’t realised how much you needed him until now. You knew without Remus there was no hope in recovering

“Me too”

He felt the same way about you, he hated being alone…which he knew was beyond ironic from his self-isolation but he did. He used to feel so guilty about you and the others helping him but now all he wanted was to go back. Go back to the days before everything fell apart, before his whole world was shattered into pieces. And he knew much like you that although your lives where shattered you and he could rebuild together.

“Miss yourself?” you say cheekily

His eyes brighten a bit “I’m glad your terrible humour is still intact” he teases and you stick your tongue out weakly, he then stands up “Go get changed bugs” he orders you oh so lightly

You give him a small smile before walking over to grab your bags. You take them into Remus’ bedroom, hoisting the case onto his bed and your backpack somewhere next to it. Unzipping the case, you begin to pull out your very crumpled and shit-ily packed clothes…soon realising you didn’t bring anything matching, nor did you bring underwear.

Merlin your life was in tatters if you couldn’t even remember your knickers.

Sighing you decided to deal with the later, folding your clothes lazily and stuffing them into a spare drawer. After unpacking you slipped the case under his bed and went over to his dresser again, opening his top one. Your clothes all still smelt of him so you decided wearing Remus’ may help you from breaking down for the merlin knows what time today.

After slipping on a pair of Remus’ boxers and grabbing one of the soft oversized jumpers he always wore after full moons since they gave extra room and were kind to his scars, you walked back through to the small kitchen

“Sauce or no sauce?” he asks draining the pasta

“No sauce, less effort” you answer sitting down, beginning to feel the lack of real sleep and the journey hitting you, letting your arms and head slump onto the table

He smiles a little, there was something nice about you both interacting again. It was surprisingly easy to slip back into conversation, have that dusting of humour you always sprinkled on even the worst of situations…and given the last few days it really didn’t get worse than this

He splits the food into two bowls, giving you that little bit extra, but as he turns around he’s met with you, asleep, cheek cutely squished against your hand. He places the bowls down then lifts you into his arms.

As he carries you through to the bedroom he feels your nose nudge into his chest “You’re so brave bugs” he whispers softly placing you down on his messily made bed

He moves to the opposite side and lifts open the covers, shifting you over and tugging you in. Once your wrapped up he runs his fingers over the edge of your hair line “Sleep tight” he says, going to grab a pillow for sleeping on the couch later before leaving the room

Coming back into the kitchen he chucked the pillow over onto the couch, missing it completely and having to run over and catch a vase before it rolled off the side table

“Thank merlin” he takes some breaths to calm himself, clutching the vase to his chest like he was going to lose it

To most it was a cheap vase you could get anywhere, even his mother who this once belonged to wouldn’t be angry at it breaking, but to Remus in his current state it was priceless. He couldn’t lose anything else after losing so much, he wouldn’t lose this vase and he wouldn’t lose you

After five…to twenty minutes of weirdly holding that ornament Remus snapped out of it, placing it back on the table and walking over to the kitchen cupboards. He racked through them for some tupperware quietly, although he was sure you were going to be fast asleep still morning he didn’t want to risk waking you.

He then placed the pasta in it for you both to eat tomorrow. Remus could have charmed it easily but he couldn’t bring himself to use magic anymore, and he didn’t think he would for a long time

Placing it the fridge he walked over and sat on the couch, picking up the pillow and letting it sit over his lap, hugging it ever so slightly. His eyes drifted over to the bedroom where he could see your sleeping figure through the crack in the door. He had questions, it was only natural for him to, but he also knew you wouldn’t be any mind to answer them right now, maybe ever.

If his heart could ache more it would have, Remus had felt physical pain his whole life, mental anguish from his condition, self-deprecation, but this, this was the lowest, the worst pain he had ever felt. Lily was one of his closest friends, he loved her dearly, she was kind, sweet, flawed yet in the best ways. James was like a brother, a chaotic one who convinced him to come out of his shell and so many…so many stupid things, but also the one that praised him for having the best ideas, and was loyal to a fault. Peter was more like his little brother, sweet and soft spoken, had insecurities that paralleled his and they helped each other through them.

And then there was you, his best friend. He may have once held the title, maybe more than that in title at one point but you were…well you.

You were the one that made him laugh, the one he could be silly around, the one who healed his wounds and supported him even in his lowest moments, moments he wasn’t proud of, moments not even the others knew because it would change their perceptions forever.

Most of his friends may have been gone but you weren’t, in fact you had travelled across the country to ensure it, meaning he could still save you, when really, you would be saving each other

Remus lifted the pillow and placed it at the end of the couch, laying down he could still just about see you. His brief moment of insight or clarity, or whatever this was wouldn’t last. The lightness would disappear at some given moment and it would start all over again, in a cycle which wouldn’t be ending any time soon

But at least he wasn’t alone in it anymore, and maybe one day it might just get better a little better if he just took it take one day at a time

Thank you for reading and let me know if you want tagged in the series ♡

@mrsgweasley @zmxchs @moony1-960 @violetsandroses8 @pega7sus @pussy-drunk @thecraziestcrayon

#remus lupin and reader #remus lupin and you #remus lupin and y/n #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #young remus lupin #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus and reader #remus and y/n #remus lupin fanfiction #remus x reader #sirius black #marauders #marauders era #one day at a time

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haltandcatchfiretothemax · 2 months

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FEMSLASH FEBRUARY 2024 #15: In which Cameron and Donna give a presentation

[CN: food/cooking mention] . . When they were asked to be the keynote speakers at an inaugural conference for marginalized groups in tech at a large and prestigious research university, Cameron agreed on the condition that Donna do most of the talking. “I will gladly stand up there with you and chime in where necessary,” she’d said, while stirring a nearly ready risotto, “but you’re better at this sort of thing, so it should mostly be you.” Donna didn’t want Cameron to be sidelined, but reluctantly agreed to this.

Cameron convinced Donna to be inspired by her own poolside speech from the night Cameron was supposed to leave California indefinitely, to focus on how partnerships evolve over time, and make the work worthwhile even when they eventually dissolve. Eager to contribute equally, she also made the slide show to go with their remarks.

The slide show began with childhood photos of each of them, and their remarks started with short biographies of the both of them. Donna described her upbringing in 1960s Dallas, and her awkward teen years, and her discovery of computer engineering. She told the audience that Cameron wanted her to tell them that she was a former beauty pageant winner (she had used her Little Miss Perfect portrait in the slide show), and that she had called Donna a bitch the first time they’d worked together, all to appreciative laughter from the audience. After that, Donna talked the audience through decades of their careers, while Cameron clicked the slide show through photos from Cardiff, COMDEX, Mutiny, AGGEK, Atari, Symphonic, Comet and Phoenix. After explaining her personal belief that partnership is about finding a new project to work on, in both our professional and personal lives, she and Cameron shared a short, final montage of photos from outside the office - pictures of them, and also Haley and Joanie, and Gordon, and J0e, and Bos, and Diane and Risa and Tanya and Dr. Katie Herman and Lev and Yo-yo and their families, at barbecues and camp grounds and birthday parties and graduations, and one final photo of Cameron and Donna on their wedding day. Cameron found herself tearing up over it, even though she’d spent hours assembling it.

After which Donna made her concluding remarks: “Being a woman in STEMS is hard. I know. It sucks. Being queer in tech, and feeling like you should be hiding something about yourself is hard. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be a scientist of color, and to see so few people who look like you and understand where you come from every day at a job that you love, where you’re trying to build something for people. But you are here. You’re here to work, and you’re also here to live, and I know that you can do this. “You won’t necessarily get to have it all, and you might not even want it all. But if you are very lucky, and you work very hard, you can get what you need.” The end of their presentation was met with a standing ovation and riotous applause, which was followed by a brief q and a.

Most of the ‘q’s were from young women, who asked Donna and Cameron which of their accomplishments they were most proud of, what they would do differently, and what new policies and practices they thought might be most helpful for young software and hardware developers with limited resources. The whole thing was a lot more pleasant than Cameron had expected, until the next to last question.

Alexa Vonn came up to the microphone. “My question is for Cameron.”

“Hello, Alexa,” Cameron deadpanned.

“Do you think that you’re easy to work with?” Alexa asked.

Cameron fought the urge to burst out into hysterical, self-conscious laughter. “No.” The audience laughed again. “That’s why I’ve worked with Donna for most of my life. She’s very aware of my limitations and where I struggle to communicate.”

“Okay,” Alexa said, “then my question for Donna is, do you actually like working with Cameron?”

Donna grinned at her. “Honestly? I’ve loved every minute of it.”

Alexa pressed, “Even with all of the ‘ups and downs’ you glossed over in your presentation? The two of you were famously estranged for many years, weren’t you?”

“‘Famously’ feels like an overstatement,” Cameron said.

“How did you come back from that?” Alexa asked.

With a hint of irritation in her voice, Donna said, “Well, you start talking. Maybe because something terrible happens, like your ex-husband dies suddenly and tragically young. And you realize that some things are more important than petty grudges. So you keep talking. Does that answer your question?”

Before Alexa could answer, Donna said, “Great! It was very nice to see you Alexa, thank you for your questions. I’m sorry that you and Cameron didn’t get to fully realize the project you worked on, it sounded really interesting.”

After the final question (“favorite app?”), Cameron and Donna went into the ladies’ room for a few minutes. Donna went over to the sinks, put her hands on the counter, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

Cameron waited for a second, and then said, “So that mostly went really well, right?”

Without opening her eyes, Donna snorted, but didn’t say anything. She took another deep breath.

“The way you shut Alexa down? Hot.” Leaning against the wall, Cameron said, “I kind of like it when you’re a bitch.”

Donna grinned at Cameron, an arched an eyebrow suggestively.

“Still,” Cameron frowned. “We kinda deserved that after some of the shit we’ve pulled at other people’s presentations, huh?”

Donna looked over at Cameron, and then started to laugh, a real, deep belly laugh. The sound of it made Cameron smile, and think, there’s literally nothing better than this.

#imagining a slide show of photos from mutiny and comet and phoenix set to 'what was i made for' and getting V EMOTIONAL #headcanon that they eventually become friends with alexa tho!#femslash february #femslash feb 2024 #fan fiction #cameron howe #donna clark #donna emerson

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pacifymebby · 7 months

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I agree with every word of the ask you sent catb-fics. It would make no sense for them to pull out of the Cardiff shows last minute as a 'business move'. Especially when there's no other shows planned. It just made them look bad. And Bondy and Bob managed to get out of the contract so I don't think Van's being kept as a prisoner. I really think it all just went to shit unfortunately 😕

Low-key glad I'm not the only pessimist/realist here :'( I'd love for there to be some convoluted but good reason for the pulling out of Cardiff but I just think like, the only way they'd do that so last minute would be because members of the band left and couldn't be replaced (which idk what the logistics are for getting session musicians in but I know theres a lot of them knocking around)

I think the most likely thing is that they had a massive oasis style argument and people quit and just didn't come back and that's why that dragged out a long time, and then the pandemic and them being forced apart for a while which really sucked the momentum out of them and made then realise they wanted to stay split... or that like that rumour about van not being well was true and that's why he's disappeared off the face of the earth.

Idk I don't think this is an elaborate ploy to generate interest because all it's done is solidifying catfish as being a band from 2015 courteeners and the footie indie Twitter, that died in 2017 idk. It's sad:(

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yahoo201027 · 22 days

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Day in Fandom History: April 9…

The Doctor and Rose travel back in time to 1869 Cardiff, team up with author Charles Dickens, and encounter the Gelth, creatures sucked through the Cardiff Rift from the other end of the universe. “The Unquiet Dead” premiered on this day, 19 Years Ago.

#Day in Fandom History #19 Years Ago #Doctor Who #Series 1 #Episode 3 #The Unquiet Dead #Cartoon #Animation

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catb-fics · 4 months

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I’m actually so glad someone else feels the same way or at least similar. I didn’t want to say anything or make a fuss (or like make it seem like I’m being hateful or anything) but yeah, it sucks big time that Van hasn’t come out to say a single thing since their last performance and even about Cardiff when he knew full well that people paid for travel/ accommodation and crazy ticket prices thinking that was their last gig.

Bob and Bondy have been so lovely to fans expressing their gratitude and I applaud them for doing their own thing now and at least giving fans some sort of message. Some part of me was still super excited to hear of new catfish stuff and see that Van and whoever is actually left is returning but honestly I’m not feeling it at all tbh it’s kind of just???? Not a vibe if I’m being completely blunt, even fhe way they announce R&L and disappear again w/o any word. Like Ok, cool I guess but shows big time there’s no real appreciation at this point. Sorry for the rant btw haha

Hey like I said to the other anon there’s no need to apologise, feel free to rant away! I’m sorry to hear how you’re feeling it’s been a proper rollercoaster for us catb fans that’s for sure 😢

I try not to judge too much about the fact that nothing was said around the time of the Cardiff gig pull-out as things could have been pretty fucked up around that time… It will be interesting to see how things go from here though.

I think as well at the moment the fact that we’re all kinda waiting is making us feel restless. I hope you can still enjoy the music going forward anon xxx

#catb asks #and yes bob and bondy are sweethearts ❤️

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feverinfeveroutfic · 7 months

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The Red Flannel Dress | Kinktober 2023

title: death by chocolate

prompt: formal wear + glove kink (courtesy of @flightlessangelwings)

pairing: alex/jay (love is not enough)

word count: 3064

masterlist | ao3

this was literal torture trying to write up. really, i phoned in this one, and i don't think i can do any more after this. i keep looking at all my kinks—i just… i have so many of them. there’s so many that it’s embarrassing. i feel so bad for all of it. in fact, i hate that i’m so kinky. it’s just… it’s too much. IT’S TOO MUCH, I CAN’T DO IT.

i cobbled this together and tried to make some sense out of both prompts. i’m so weird and disgusting that i wouldn’t blame you if you hate/laugh at this or any kinky thing that has ever come out of me. in fact, i'm so disgusted with myself that i don't have the gumption to put up a picture of alex. i suck so much at this, i’m sorry.

The taro root broach on Jay's hat was something he simply could not take his eyes off of. The way the petals seemed to glitter and sparkle under the lamp light of the hotel room, or the lamps that lined the side of the street, and he found himself thinking of Hawai'i every single time. Indeed, there was one point in which she stepped into the shower one morning and he found the chance to fondle the edges of the petals with nothing more than his fingertips. No way he could do it when either she or Q were in the room with him: it would be too much to think about, too much to face up, and bore too much of an explanation as well.

As the water whirred through the pipes in the wall, he sat there at the little table right next to the dresser in the hotel room with her hat cradled in his hands, and the pads of his thumbs on the edges of the flower: the leaves grazed against the spindly backs of his hands as if to tickle him in a way he never expected to happen. The black coral streams jutted out from the bud of the flower itself, in all of their roughness and all of their pointed glory. He thought about bringing the flower itself to his nose for a whiff of the scent, but he remembered it was nothing more than a broach rather than an actual flower.

But at one point, he closed his eyes and better caressed the flower with the very tips of his index and middle fingers: there was something so inviting about it, something that made his imagination wander about without even intending it to happen in the first place. The shape of the flower made him think of the shape of her lips as well as the way her hood looked whenever she was in the mood for a fingering or the swipe of his tongue.

The water stopped and he opened his eyes. Q was out some place there in Cardiff, and thus, he and Jay had the day together as well as a thousand Welsh quid in her pocket and a mind full of bad ideas. He set her hat back down on the table, but before he stepped away from there, he picked it up one last time, that time to take a whiff of the inside. It smelled of perfume, soap, and with a hint of sweat: it smelled of Jay and the way she thought about Hawai'i.

He returned to the bed as if nothing happened, and he put his feet up and leaned back against the headboard so she wouldn't have to know that he was over there. When she surfaced from the bathroom, wrapped in a soft clean red silk bathrobe and with a clean towel wrapped up on top of her head, he showed her a little smile and a flick of his bare feet.

“Look at you, looking like such a good boy,” she remarked.

“Good Jewish boy, as my mom would say,” he retorted back to her. His eyes wandered down to her bathrobe, and he thought about wearing something of red silk as well. Jay stood there at the foot of the bed, right by his feet, and with her hands pressed to her hips.

“What'chu thinkin' 'bout, Tevye, baby?” she asked him.

“Thinking about... what the two of us should do while Q's on business,” he replied.

“You wanna walk around, don't you.”

“We're in Wales, my darling blue Jay,” he insisted. “The couple of times my band and I have been here before, we liked it. We like the United Kingdom as a whole, actually. But Wales in particular.”

“Why is that?”

“I don't really know. I do know the crowds over here can get pretty wild. When we come to the British Isles, it's always a party, especially with Wales. But yeah—” He ran his fingers through his inky black curls and sat upright away from the headboard, and he wiggled his toes to her. “Let's both get dressed, and then we'll walk around this neighborhood here. There's a clothing store near here, and I really would like a new jacket especially.”

“Did you bring one?”

“Always, especially since it's so rainy over here in comparison to New York and California. But what I mean is... a nice jacket. Like, something I can wear to dinner when I go back home for Hanukkah coming up here.”

“Oh, I see! You know, I think I'd like something new, too. I've got money, after all...” She reached down and held onto his right foot with nothing more than her fingers. He tugged it back away from her with a slight chuckle, and she stood there with a squint to her eyes for a whole minute. She then turned away from him and towards the closet over by the door of the hotel room: the mirror across from the bathroom door allowed him to see her from behind. All it took was a single glimpse of her bare back and the backs of her legs to have his mind going again.

He watched her get dressed, and he thought about what she could wear once they were alone again in that room.

Once he had changed his shirt and put on his shoes, they headed out to the rainy street to the clothing store in question, right down the block from their hotel and even further away from the airport. He kept his hands tucked into his jeans pockets as they walked together with the fine misty rain all around their heads and shoulders: he thought about what sort of coat he could wear when he visited his parents again as he held the door for Jay and that sparkling tarot root broach atop her head.

There was one coat in particular that caught his eye, the black one over by the cash register that looked to be made of soft fine suede. He wandered over to it and fingered the lapels with both hands. Jay strode on past him to a little black leather jacket on the rung opposite from him.

“I really, really want to try this on,” he told her.

“Then try it on,” she insisted, and he took the jacket off the hook, and he slung it around his slender little body. The warm suede exterior felt so soft and inviting to him as he caressed it down with the palms of his hands; meanwhile, the plush red wine colored velvet inside only made him want to wear it out on the street to show off. He knew he wasn't going to wear it outside from the dark skies out there, but he could wear it to his parents' house as well as back to the hotel room when he and Jay found themselves alone again.

“How does it look?” he asked her as she slipped on the leather jacket part of the way: the shiny silver hooks on the front hugged the hourglass curvature as if it had been made specifically for her body. The one underneath her breasts only made them raise higher than they actually were, as if she wore a corset, and as a result, he imagined her in a lace camisole underneath that jacket.

“You look really soft,” she remarked. “In fact, I'd get a silk shirt with that if I were you.” She flashed him a wink, and he glanced up to the taro root on her hat. He fingered the lapels again and the feeling of the suede only made him want more to be on his body. More suede and silk, more feeling.

He soon found out that the jacket came with matching pants, and all he needed was the silk shirt in question. Soft white silk to lightly wear on his little body; when he showed it to her outside of the dressing room, she held onto the buttons on his collar and undid the top three to show off the smooth skin and fine dark hair on the top of his chest.

“There we go,” she remarked as she gently tugged on the bottom of his shirt as it rested snugly against his slender waist. “There's the nice, stylish Jewish boy that I've been looking for.”

“You've been looking for?” he teased her, and she flashed him a wink.

“I'll take it then,” he said with a toss of his hair and a little sway of his hips.

When they returned to the hotel room, and Q still wasn't back yet, he changed his clothes into those new ones. He left his hair down to better accentuate everything, and he spritzed a bit of cologne on the side of his neck. He returned out to the room to find that Jay had put on her new leather jacket as well as a pair of black lace gloves without the fingers.

“Whoa,” he breathed at the sight of the gloves. She also had put on some leather pants which lightly hugged her hips and thighs, and nearly glittered in the lamp light. He had never seen them before, at least not these as they had a bell shape to the bottom hems: Jay gently tugged on the lacy bottoms of her gloves, and she let the cuffs of her own jacket hold onto them to where it all looked like a single piece of fabric. With her hat upon her head, she looked ready to dominate him.

“Oh, my,” he was taken aback by the sight of her.

“Like what you see, baby?” she asked him as she rested her hands on her chest. She slid her hands down the front of her body down on her thighs, and he swallowed at the sight of her. His nice suede with her dark leather, as well as that broach atop her head, only made him freeze with his back to the wall.

“I want us to keep this look forever,” he said to her. “In fact, I could get used to this right here.” He gestured to her full leather outfit, but he kept his eyes on those gloves. That pure black lace that seemed to beckon him more than the leather itself.

“I love this look on you, actually, baby,” she confessed to him with a gesture to his ensemble. “This nice jacket and this nice shirt, and the way your hair is cascading down from your head to where it looks like water... so very handsome.”

“Handsome?” he sputtered out with a slight chuckle.

“Yeah. Very handsome. Kind of... dare I say, sexy.”

“You like some nice clothes on me, don't you?” he teased her as he adjusted the lapels of his coat.

“I do. You look so—dapper and dishy, with all of your long beautiful hair and your beautiful body...” Her voice trailed off, and her eyes wandered down the shape of his body as if she was about to undress him right then and there.

“I must say, you pull off smooth black leather rather splendidly, darling Jay,” he told her. “Black leather and—” His eyes wandered to the lacy black gloves on her hands. “—black lace as well.” She raised a hand and flexed her fingers right in front of his face. “Those look new, too.”

“They are,” she replied, and she inched closer to him so he could have a better look at them. “I thought I'd get myself some lace with all the good money Q and I have been making together.”

He nibbled on his bottom lip as he pictured those two girls donned in nothing but that black lace, black lace bodysuits paired with those gloves. Jay cracked him a sly smile and she flashed an eyebrow at him so he could see the twinkle in her eyes.

“You like the gloves, don't ya, big boy,” she teased him, and he swallowed at that.

“I do, yeah.”

“I don't know if I want to wear these to dinner, though,” she confessed as she turned her hand over to examine her wrist. “I think about the humble British food and how it would seem out of place to wear these gloves to something like that. Plus, there's you and the suede and the rain. It's a shame because—I really want us to look good for tonight, especially once Q comes back. You know, I—” She cleared her throat and locked eyes with him. “—would like to surprise her.” Her eyes dropped down to his lips and his neck, and he noticed she was checking out his throat as well as his collar bones. She inched even closer to him, that time with a hand pressed to his chest.

“What're you thinking about?” he asked her in a near whisper.

“Thinking about this... beautiful neck of yours,” she replied with a stroke of his collar bone. Indeed, the lace was smooth and delicate, and he could tell that it was fresh out of the dryer as well from the lingering fresh scent of it. A shiver ran down his spine at the feeling of her fingers there. Something about the gloves made him shiver already, but when she touched his bare skin, he couldn't help but shiver some more. “There's a part of me that wants to choke it.” He swallowed at that, and she moved her thumb up to his Adam's apple.

“Now, if you choke it, I won't be able to breathe,” he pointed out.

“You know, I've choked a couple of clients and they were able to have these huge orgasms,” she told him. “I mean, huge.” The way she said “huge” brought a slight pit to his stomach: that intimate feeling he was all too familiar with whenever either of these two girls locked eyes with him.

“Here... I'll just go slowly,�� she suggested to him. “I'm not gonna do anything extreme or anything that makes you feel uneasy. You know how we roll, dear Tevye.”

He closed his eyes and parted his lips as Jay gently held onto his neck with both hands. He could still breathe as she lightly stroked his skin with those lace clad pads in all their cleanliness. Clean hands, and yet she was about to take him under with one single flick of the wrist.

He held still with his back to the wall and his hands pressed flat on either side of his hips. Jay stood up on her tiptoes to reach him all the way, even though she could hold his throat with ease by standing on her flat feet. He could feel himself going under from the feeling of her thumbs there. She tightened her grip even more, and that time he pursed his lips together as if he was about to fall asleep. She kept on stroking that tender part of his neck to where his body shuddered and shook. He may have cleaned up rather nicely prior to showing up, but she was about to make him a dirty dog again.

He pinched his eyes shut. He swore that his chest was about to explode from holding his breath for so long, and more so with those soft hands around his neck as well. It was driving him crazy and so quickly as well.

Jay let go of him, and he let out a low euphoric moan. His head flopped down onto his shoulder, and his hair swept across his face like the streamers from a flag.

“Did you come?” she asked him. “Did you do it?”

“Huh?” he sputtered out as his eyes drooped open.

“Did you come in your pants?” she asked him again.

“I don't think I did,” he replied, out of breath.

“Let me try again,” she coaxed him, and before he could have a word in, she clasped her thumbs onto his throat again. He once again closed his eyes and held his breath. She lightly stroked his Adam's apple, and the way her thumbs caressed him down made him think of feathers. He tried to gasp for air but she had too much of a hold on him, even though she only held onto him by the lightest of touches. He instead held his breath again, and he swore that time he could feel it between his legs. Not enough breathing, and his heart pounded inside of his chest as a result.

That time, he could feel himself firming up. She was making him rise even without even so much as touching him below the belt. He gasped for air that time, but she pressed harder on the sides of his neck, and to the point that even he could feel his own pulse inside. His own pulse as it rose through the roof. His own pulse as his heart pounded even more inside of him.

He curled his toes inside of his shoes.

He tried to knit his knees together, but he had too much in between his thighs.

Jay finally lifted her hands off his neck and he groaned even louder. He could feel it inside of his pants. She had made him do it even without actually putting her hands below his belt. He leaned back against the wall and slid down to the floor: he knew he was going to have to clean the inside of his underwear anyway, but he never thought she would make him do that. She sank down next to him and put her arm around his waist: that same lace right above his right hip that found its way to the delicate part of his neck, and he had no idea where to go from there.

“Do you think maybe you can wear this tonight when Q comes back?” she asked him in a light whisper right into his ear.

“What, the jacket?” His voice broke and his eyes drooped closed, even though his heart continued to pound away in his chest.

“Yeah. I think she would like it, just like how I like it.”

He rolled his head over the surface of the wall for a look into her eyes. “Are you gonna wear the gloves?”

“I'll never tell,” she said with a wink and a light kiss on the side of his face.

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novemberthecatadmirer · 1 year

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Thoughts about “The Wind in the Willows”(I HATE IT) as a Person with ADHD

So I finished listening to the Audiobook of the Wind in the Willows

(And figured out a difficult illustration composition while listening to it, GOOD!)

AHHHHHHHH I have THOUGHTS

I love everything around the Mole and the Rat.

I hate, I HATE everything the narrative writes about Toad.

SERIOUSLY I AM FUCKING MAD

As a person growing up with ADHD I hate the way Toad was written, I HATE IT SO MUCH

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

Having quick, intense obsession over one thing following another, having SO MANY hobbies then getting bored and dropping them one by one

Your strong obsessions hurt you, hurt your health and hurt your life and hurt your reputation

You mean well, you try so hard, you want to have everything IN CONTROL because you have so little control over your crazy obsessions

AND PEOPLE SAY YOU ARE IMPATIENT AND WANT YOU TO BE NORMAL AND RESPECTABLE LIKE EVERYONE ELSE

And you know there is something wrong with you, but you do not know what is exactly wrong, you just know there is something wrong with you because why it is so hard for you to just be like everyone else

And you believed, you believed these well-meaning people older than you, who know better and love you and are concerned about you, that you are impatient and ungrateful and you just need to try harder to be GOOD and NORMAL

You want to believe them because then that means there is nothing wrong with you you just need to try HARDER

But you do not really believe them. Because you tried and you are trying and you have been trying all your damned life and IT JUST DID NOT WORK and you are exhausted and you do not want to try anymore

Because no matter how HARD you try you cannot be “good and normal”, you just cannot. These people are supposed to love you, and you love them, and they looked at you and see someone impatient and not trying enough. FOREVER.

They want to fix you and then they can love you but you know you cannot be fixed so they will never love you the real way they just love the potential fixed version of you but that fixed version of you is an illusion and no one will love you the way you currently are

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In my teenage and early 20s that nearly drove me mad. I got into crippling depression and anxiety. It still drives me mad, the condescendence from a parent figure that just want you to be fixed and be normal and blame you for not trying hard enough.

I did not actually yote myself over some metaphorical cliff. Mostly thanks to school counsellors, extremely supportive friends, and accidentally stumbling into a reddit post about ADHD (I never knew the term before, growing up in a social environment extremely blind to mental illness). However it was a kind of close call, before I realized oh it is really not something wrong with me, it is just something different.

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Then I searched the author Kenneth Grahame and I was like WHAT

He based Mr. Toad on his SON

Alastair Grahame. Who was born disabled. An only child. Committed suicide 5 days before reaching 20 in 1920

His demise was recorded as an accidental death out of respect for his father. - Wikipedia, Kenneth Grahame

LIKE WHAT. WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK

According to Cardiff University Professor Emeritus Peter Hunt, Grahame shared a house in London with a set designer, W. Graham Robertson, while Grahame's wife and son lived in Berkshire. - Wikipedia, Kenneth Grahame

So yeah.

I think he was figuring out things about himself. But he was also a distant father. He had his own troubles to figure out. But I think he sucked at being a father.

The way he wrote Mr. Toad. The way he wrote Toad’s obsession as something BAD and PATHETIC and FUNNY.

The way he initially created the whole story to entertain his son. Created something with LOVE. Tried to connect with this son he just could not understand with metaphorical stories.

But the metaphors were BAD. The story is biased and condescending and the story JUDGES.

He tried to teach his son maturity and respectability by creating a character and mocking the character.

His son, Alastair Grahame, who was a child with disability and was sent away to boarding school, tried so hard to have his father love him. His son called and called for helps in letters and letters. But this respectable author turned away because he saw troubles in his son and he could not understand and he probably had his own bucket of troubles to deal with and it was all too overwhelming. So he turned away.

And he escaped into his stories where everything can be FIXED and Toad would learn his lessons and be A GOOD TOAD.

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I cannot stop thinking about it.

There is something extremely, extremely cruel and UGLY with the kind of fact that your father does not understand you and he mocked (unintentionally) you in his story. Then his story got popular and everyone loves his story and LAUGHS at the character that basically (unintentionally) mocks at something in you that you cannot fix.

I don’t know. I think that is the kind of thing that can drive someone over some edge.

(And the fact that Alastair Grahame’s suicide was treated as a shame. Brushed over as an accident.)

(Okay maybe I am being emotional because I got personal experience. There was this elementary teacher who wrote me in a self-promo article as some crazy troubled child that learned to be normal because of her loving help. She got the promotion and left to teach at another school probably with higher salary. And 9-year-old me got bullied by classmates because she gifted each and every parents of kids in my class that damned book contained her article. They went back home and told their children to stay away from the crazy kid. That damned experience fucked me up extremely hard. It literally took me YEARS to realize I do not have to be extremely careful with everything I do to not be viewed as a lunatic. Also my first experience with “sometimes the bad guy wins.”)

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I respect Kenneth Grahame the way I respect dead artist. His story is wonderful and nice. I really, really love the Mole and the Rat.

It just hurts a little to read Mr. Toad. And hurts a lot after learning that the Toad was an unintentional mockery based over the author’s own child with disability and likely depression who was emotionally neglected and abused by the author (probably unintentionally but abuse is abuse.)

And the book was written in this time period that the idea of Mental Illness and Disorder and Neurodiversity was NOT A THING. Like Damn it in early 20th century people barely understood psychology and had ALL THE RIDICULOUS IDEAS. Therapy? Go to talk someone in the church. Ask help from the God out there.

It is also extremely clear that Kenneth Grahame had his own struggles that he did not understand and needed help himself. Like, he probably needed so, so many therapies. How do you blame a parent who was far from mentally well themselves for not being able to meet their children’s mental needs? They are parent but they are also just another fallible human being. Yet emotional abuse is still abuse it still happened even when no one wanted it to happen.

To me it is just another “LOVE is good and powerful but LOVE does not fix your problems and LOVE itself is not enough and never enough.” Nah we need respect and listening and trust. Like trusting someone’s experience and struggle to be real even when we are not able to experience the world the same way they experience the world.

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I think it is really good that people know about ADHD now. (Still not enough) (Still not enough in my country) (My relatives still deny it despite apparently having it themselves) And there are medicines and methods to deal with it or make it easier. Even without medicines and helpful methods, merely recognizing it itself is a great help. For me it HELPS to know that this is not something wrong in me.

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The thing is, I don’t think it’s entirely miserable to have ADHD. (I don’t like to picture it as superpower though, it is just being different like being left-handed.) It is miserable because the society is designed for people without ADHD, or rather, the society demands efficient workers for labor, and ADHD is against that type of cold efficiency. So someone will look at you and see you as a misfit malfunctioning gear of a larger machine. And your parents fear for you because they worry you will have no space in this larger machine and be tossed out into trash. But the gear feels and the gear is not a gear and it should never be about some larger machine.

Some people say the ADHD obsession is bad. I agree to some extent. The obsession sessions is occasionally bad especially when I was not able to recognize that I was deep down in the pit of some weird obsession. But I could learn about it and recognize it and work with it. I cannot say that same obsession does not allow me to fully invest in things and bring me intense joy. The obsession comes and goes but the experience and the joy is real and I learned so much because the obsession makes me research everything madly.

(Also as illustrator I never run out of ideas despite having trouble finishing drawings. That’s like the two sides of it, the good part and the bad part.)

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Yeah this whole damned writing happened because my ADHD brain yelled at me “Yeah go write about your rant over some children’s story from early 20th century in public domain at midnight before writing that ridiculous witch story that may actually bring you job”

No remorse

#wind in the willows #witw #adhd #neurodivergent #me: being unfair at respectable dead authors from last century writing characters with mental illness/disorder WRONG #it is unfair because at the time they lived there was little understanding of mental wellness #and a lot of misinformation and disinformation and in general stigma around mental illness #it is very interesting how they write characters from their own perspective #like they got this and that right then got this and that wrong then TOTALLY MISSED this and that

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shejustcalledmeafish · 11 months

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11 and John/Ianto?

11. “You’re so cute when you’re needy.”

thank you for committing cursed with me <3 this is basically just smut be warned

John was an absolute nuisance whenever his heat rolled around. He was already down to spend hours on end doing nothing but fucking, but his heat gave him a biological excuse. And really, Ianto thought, why resist him?

“You’re so cute when you’re needy,” Ianto said, slowly removing his shirt like he wasn’t as desperate as John. Didn’t want just as badly to fill him up with his cock and get John to beg for his knot. Not that it was especially hard when John was in heat. John let out a low whine as if in agreement, his hand wrapped around his own cock.

John often spend his heats in the Hub, in a special room Jack had made for just that purpose back in the day. It was easier that way, to make sure Cardiff still stayed protected while the team took turns fucking him until the fever broke. Owen had been down with him that morning, but the Beta had tapped out around lunch time. Ianto couldn’t blame him.

John whined again, louder, and Ianto stopped removing his trousers to stick two fingers in his mouth. He sucked on them quietly, hips bucking up, and Ianto rewarded him by taking his cock in hand.

“Just because you’re cute doesn’t mean you can be naughty,” Ianto reprimanded lightly. John just stared up at him, eyes dark. Ianto removed his fingers, then leaned down to kiss him.

“Ianto,” John gasped as soon he broke the kiss. “Please.”

“What, was Owen not enough for you?” Ianto said in mock surprise. It was a bit cruel to tease, he knew how rough John’s heats could get. His first one as a member of the team, he hadn’t told anyone, just feigned the flu and didn’t come in. When Ianto had come to check on him, the whole flat had reeked of sex and want and need.

Ianto was ashamed to admit it, but John begging for him, wrecked and flushed from his own attempts to keep the heat down, was one of the sexiest memories he had. He was also ashamed of how quickly he’d given John exactly what he was asking for. He’d apologized profusely once he was sure John’s head was clear, but John had only pulled him back over for another round.

This arrangement they’d worked out was much better. A win-win situation, John would say if his mouth wasn’t busy doing much filthier things. Ianto worked his fingers slowly into John, although he was so wet and loose he had the urge to try and get his fist in.

Maybe later. Ianto knew exactly what John wanted from him now. Finishing undressing with a hand now three fingers deep in John was tricky, but he’d had plenty of practice. Once he was as naked as John (who also used the heat as an excuse to not wear clothes), he bent back down to kiss him. He was moaning so sweetly with each thrust of Ianto’s fingers inside him, and Ianto swallowed them down like he’d swallowed so much else of John.

“Ready?” Ianto asked, a bit redundantly, but John found his caution amusing. At least he did when he wasn’t at the peak of his heat without getting knotted in at least eighteen hours.

“Yes,” he growled, knowing intimately now how Ianto would simply stop if he didn’t give verbal consent. He would bitch and moan about it afterward, but Ianto could see the truth in his eyes. And since he asked so nicely, Ianto let John pull him down and slid inside of him in one deep thrust.

John yowled so loud Ianto was grateful the room was soundproofed. Not that the team hadn’t all heard it before. John was shamelessly vocal, a trait he encouraged in them all. Ianto wondered if Jack had always been loud, or if John had seduced him into it. Then he stopped wondering because all that mattered was the heat and the pressure and making sure that John was so blissed out he wouldn’t get restless while they were tied together.

Not that having John squirm on his cock was a bad thing. They’d played with it before, seeing how many orgasms they could both have before his knot went down or they were simply too overstimulated to keep on. Usually the former. If John had an upper limit on stimulation, Ianto hadn’t found it yet. Stupid fifty-first century omegas.

“C’mon, Ianto,” John goaded after an arduous three minutes with no popped knot. “Don’t you want to fill me up? Fuck a pup into me?” Ianto bottomed out with a solid slam and bit John on the shoulder, the bitch. He was on birth control, but that never stopped his filthy mouth. The bite only served to rile him up more, but Ianto had expected that.

“Anything to keep you quiet,” Ianto hissed playfully. “Too bad no one else is here to keep your mouth full.” He saw John’s eyes glaze over and he knew his ploy had been successful. Some of John’s best heats had been when the team had time to take care of him together. For right now, he would just have to settle for one alpha cock.

Not a bad one, Ianto would have to say, given the way John broke down in pleasure beneath him. He pressed kisses against his bitemark on John’s shoulder, breathing in his scent, as intoxicating every time as the first.

With lust overwhelming every sense, it wasn’t long before he came, pressed so deep into John he could taste it. As the knot caught, John came as well, making a mess of them, something else John had helped him find hot.

Well-practiced in maneuvering when tied together this way, Ianto carefully shifted down so he could lie on the bed and hold John comfortably while they waited. John was as blissed out as he hoped, bonelessly slumped into the bed and Ianto’s embrace.

“Feeling better?” Ianto asked, eyeing him carefully. John didn’t open his own eyes, just gave a minute nod.

“Much,” he sighed, shifting slightly to nuzzle against Ianto’s neck. “Missed you.”

“You always miss me,” Ianto teased lightly to hide how his heart panged at John’s word. “Are you satisfied then?” John deliberately cracked open an eye and ground his hips down against Ianto.

“Never.” Ianto sighed and kissed John’s forehead. He didn’t expect anything less from his needy, horny, bastard omega.

#torchwood #my fic #a/b/o #yes we’ve crossed that horizon #this is just 70% raunch 30% fluff

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torchwood-99 · 2 years

Text

My Favourite Torchwood Looks

So the thing I really love about Gwen’s windbreaker is the colour. Not only does it look pretty, but the light green makes her stand out in a way that really suits Gwen as the newbie, and the pale mint green is just begging to get splattered in blood and dirt. You see Gwen wearing this and it’s obvious what is going to happen to her, and her jacket, by the end of the episode.

Obviously Jack’s coat is iconic. I know he goes through a few variations of coats, and styles them all similarly. I like it with this dark blue shirt the most, and I think the coat looks best in Countrycide, against the fields and grey brick and the Brecon Beacons. When he wears it in Cardiff, he looks really out of time, which makes sense. But in the seemingly abandoned village, where his team are all dressed in heavier clothes as well (apart from Gwen in the above jacket) he actually fits in for once. It pits him firmly against the cannibals along with his team, which is fitting seeing as he’s the one who saves them in the end.

Owen wears this jacket quite a lot, I think. I just really like how it looks with the blue shirt. This is one of the first moments where we see Owen scared, and realise just how vulnerable Owen is under his tough front.

Tosh looks so gorgeous. Love the colour blocking with the red and black, and the lapels of her coat.

Gwen just looks so adorable in her police uniform, hair drenched from the rain, giving that big wide eyed surprised look that she wears so well. Especially in the earlier seasons. This look just feels like it sums Gwen up at the beginning. In a uniform, firmly in the real world, about to be sucked into something totally new.

Ianto wears so many suits, but this is my favourite variation. Like with Tosh, I love the red and black, and I think the stripy tie goes so nice with the shirt and black blazer. Plus, this is the scene where he and Gwen link arms (iconic) and the red of his shirt complements Gwen’s warm brown blouse.

Just such a gorgeous shade, and I love how soft and romantic the blouse is. Tosh dresses much more femininely than Gwen, which makes sense for their personalities and their job roles, seeing she spends less time in the field than Gwen. She looks really beautiful in these rich shades, and the flowy fabric is so nice.

Ianto in red and black again! But this time with a suit coat with a pointy up collar! I love a pointy up collar! And I love coats like this.

My favourite Owen look, and sums him up perfectly! The Doctor’s lab coat with all the badges. It’s one of the first looks we see him in, and the one he wears where he is introduced to Gwen and the audience. Seeing as he’s the first to break out laughing, and to confess to ordering pizza under Torchwood, the playfulness of the badges sums up his role in the scene perfectly!

Just a really pretty look on Tosh. I don’t think we usually see Tosh’s arms so bare, which makes sense seeing as this is the moment where Mary reveals herself as an alien. Tosh, falling in love, is likewise more open and revealing in her clothes. The soft, draping fabric and the colour works perfect for a character falling in love.

Gwen looked sooo pretty on her wedding! I actually think she looked better after the fight with the Nostrovite, when her hair was a bit more mussed up. I just wanted a close up of the veil.

This is Ianto’s coat again! I just really liked how it looked in the rain and the streetlights, bonus for his (and Gwen) delightful smiles.

Love LOVE the long leather coat over the skirt. It’s just so flattering, the pink peeking though under the collar, the dark colours with the light pink. She looks so sleek and elegant.

God Gwen looks so gorgeous in this top! As a costume piece, it’s great seeing as this is a Gwen focussed episode, so the bright colour draws attention to her. Plus, as an episode it’s all about Gwen’s compassion, but also death and life. So bright blood red fits all that to a tee.

This is my other favourite Owen costume. Owen’s had such a god awful time at this point, so seeing him at Gwen’s wedding, clapping and smiling and asking Tosh to dance, is so beautiful.

This look kind of gives me a lab coat with badges feel in reverse, but instead of the formal lab coat made informal with the badges, it’s an informal t-shirt made suitable for a wedding with a boutonniere. I love imagining how Owen ended up with the flower on his shirt. Was it his idea, did Tosh or Ianto force it on him? I wonder where they found it. I kind of love picturing Tosh and Ianto telling Owen he needs to smarten up before the ceremony, and Banana Boat (who was in charge of flowers) pops up and is all “Need a corsage? The Best Man has you covered!”

Awesome leather coat on Tosh, just needs a shout out. Also love what Mary is wearing, that skirt and those tights are awesome.

I just adore this blouse on Gwen! In a scene where the highlight is Gwen and Ianto linking arms, I love that the sleeves on this blouse are such a focal point. The bell sleeves are a departure for Gwen, and they’re so soft and romantic and they flatter her perfectly, as does that lovely neckline. Also love the warm brown, which looks amazing on her, and suits her grounded and tough, but passionate and gentle personality.

Leather coat on Gwen! Long leather coat on Gwen!

This is the first episode (KKBB) where we see Gwen in leather, which was introduced to show how she had levelled up after Jack has left, and it was down to her to take charge.

The top underneath is awesome too.

Long woollen coat on Tosh!

I just really like coats ok!

Tosh looked so beautiful on Gwen’s wedding day. Most of all I love the red and white flowers, and the silver necklace. The red, the purple, the white and silver just look so gorgeous together.

Such an iconic scene. What I love about this jacket (and her trousers which you can’t see here) is that she kind of makes me think of fighter pilots, which means she really complements Jack. When the two are standing side by side, watching the helicopter burn, after so much time apart.

Black jacket and red shirt. We see this look on Gwen a lot. It’s pretty much her signature, I think. If I want to cosplay as Gwen, I’d go with a leather jacket and a red shirt.

But I love this look the most because of how beautiful she looks when she’s messy, especially with her smudged makeup and extra especially her wavy, messy hair.

Favourite looks for Jack and Ianto here. Both without their top layer, so we get to see Jack in his waistcoat, and Ianto in his red shirt. Both have rolled their sleeves up too, which is double points, and it means they look like they go together even though they’re in opposite colours.

Owen needs a black jacket, red shirt moment too!!! We can’t leave him out. And I do love this shirt on him, especially with the jacket.

Like I was going to leave out the episode where Owen wears a necklace!

And it’s Gwen’s wedding dress again! This is Gwen in the dress Ianto got her, and her stomach is baggy and splattered with alien blood, but despite that, she looks utterly radiant. Glowing. I love her jewellery, and her hair curls now that they’re a bit more bedraggled. I always thought she looked a little stiff and overdone in her wedding clothes when she was first going down the aisle. It makes sense she would be uncomfortable with the alien bump, but at the same time, I think this just shows that Gwen is happiest and at her most confident when she is fresh from a bloody tussle with an alien shapeshifter.

#Torchwood #Gwen Cooper #Jack Harkness #Owen Harper #Toshiko Sato #Ianto Jones #costumes

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