#hedge_witch

[girlnavy-central]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Terror (TV 2018), The Terror - Dan Simmons Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Francis Crozier/James Fitzjames Characters: Francis Crozier, James Fitzjames (1813-c.1848), John Franklin (1786-1847), Thomas Blanky Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Rule 63, Who ordered more lesbian fitzier?, Very little plot in this one, Crozier is still a bit of a gremlin, Fitzjames is a sweetheart, Franklin is the worst boss ever, lots of swearing, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Mild D/S elements, Fitzjames' Praise-Kink makes an appearance Summary:

Frances Crozier has had it up to here with running ridiculous errands for Professor Franklin. So when he sends her to pick up one of his irritating little protégés from the airport, she is determined to be as grumpy as possible about it, no matter how attractive the woman in question may be.

[witchinthenight]

Spooky time! Just when you think you know what’s real

Two years of age is a little early to start forming memories but it isn’t uncommon. I’ve confirmed my earliest memories with my mother, just to determine how far back my memory goes. I thought of the little things that didn’t matter much, like how I recalled going to my best friend’s house. Her name was Penny and she was a little older than me. She had big blue eyes and yellow blond hair that sort of glowed when the sunshine hit it. She had dimples. Her mom and my mom were friends. Penny and I would play with fly swatters on the living room floor while our moms drank coffee out of coffee cups with owls on them. I loved to play with Penny, but she was very naughty. She would aways do things her mom said not to. I wasn’t like that. My mother smiled and said that was definitely an accurate memory of my friend Penny. I asked her what happened the day we went to Penny’s house and her mom was crying. I remember it so clearly. The sun was shining through the yellow kitchen curtains, the house was very quiet, and our moms sat at the kitchen table crying. Penny was sitting in time out in the hallway-I knew she’d been naughty again and wasn’t allowed to play with me. She kept peeking around the doorway at me, smiling with those dimples, giggling like she was being so sneaky! I inquired about Penny being able to play yet. My mom pulled me onto her lap and just cried, telling me no, Penny couldn’t play with me. I thought it must be hard for her not to play with me when she was just sitting in the hallway waiting for timeout to be over. That was end of the memory. When I related it to my mother she went completely pale, despite it being 25 years later. She couldn’t believe I remembered it. You see, that was the day she’d gone to Penny’s mother to comfort her upon learning of Penny’s death. She’d drowned in the pool the day before.  Penny was almost 3. My mother said she knew Penny’s spirit was still there, but she didn’t realize I was sitting five feet away making silly faces at her. All this time I’d thought Penny was alive and well. The truth was I’d only ever played with Penny one time. While she was alive anyway.