#there's also lots of old age and the smell of my grandma's house

[miinatozakiii]

misty

kindergarden teacher!sana x fem!reader. (p1. 1)

summary: you take your niece to her first day of school and- shoot, you might have a crush on your nieces' teacher.

wc: 2k

warnings: none, pure fluff

pt2 pt3 pt4

a/n: hiii this is my first post, feel free to leave feedback or just ask, comment, or anything like that, hope u enjoy!!

also, credits to @soliarus for inspiring and encouraging me to post my take on this! I really liked their take on this prompt/idea, so please check it out!!! it's so cute :'-]

-

you and your niece Hana, approach the classroom, and you spot parents already bidding their goodbyes and waving to their children from the cheery, chat-filled classroom. 

Hana reaches for your hand, holding your large hand with her small one. you look down at your niece, and she wears a white shirt, denim overalls, and a beige backpack, you had dressed her up this morning. The young girl stands outside the door with you and looks into the classroom from the door nervously.

“y/n, auntie…” She begins, “What if no one wants to be my friend?” 

There’s a look of surprise on your face after hearing what she said. She looks down at her beige, velcro sneakers. You squat down to match the little girl’s level,

“Hana… Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know… I don’t want to be the only one alone.” She says, and her frown deepens,

“Hana, sweetheart,” you start, holding both her hands in between your palms, “Trust me, at least one person will talk to you. Even if it isn’t today, someone amazing like you will make a friend, I mean, who wouldn’t want to be your friend? I made a lot of friends when I was your age,” 

You pause and put your hands on her shoulders, making eye contact, and your tone softens,

“You and I, we’re alike, . your dad and grandma think so too.” you begin, “And, be glad. Your dad isn’t as cool as me, trust me. Be glad you got your auntie’s genes, and because you have my genes, you’ll be the coolest in the room.”

“You sure?” Hana questions,

“Of course I am.” You assure her. You stand up and encourage her, “Now, come on, let’s go inside, your dad said your teacher was nice!” you say, smiling at the little girl and standing up again, “You lead me, I might get lost and I’m a bit scared myself, this isn’t my classroom after all.”

Hana’s worried expression is replaced by a growing smile after hearing your last remark,  “You’re so silly y/n, you’re old and scared? I thought you said you were the coolest!” Hana giggles, teasing you slightly.

“Hey! I am the coolest! and I'm not old! you should see your dad!”

The little girl laughs and gains a sudden boost of confidence from the lighthearted teasing, holding, no, grabbing your hand and practically pulling you into the classroom with her as if you were Alice traveling into some wonderland.

You two enter the classroom, and the first thing you notice is the smell. The vanilla scent isn't overwhelming, and you can even smell the faint notes of peaches and pears. The scent matches the slightly chaotic classroom and its well-thought-out arrangement and reminds you of the cafe you work at in a way.

There are kids in seats that are coloring, some looking or running around the room, and some with their parents taking pictures. Hana drags you to the colorful cubbies where she would put her finished work and lunchbox in. She shows you the sticker she put on the cubby with her dad from when they visited for the open house, and you smile at the sight. It’s a shark sticker, Hana and her dad love sharks.

“Hana, love, stand next to the cubby, I want to show your dad.” You tell her, pointing to the area where you want her to pose. She scoots over to the spot and smiles widely, her gums showing a bit as she smiles so brightly; it makes you smile too. you quickly snap a picture and send it to the group chat that your brother, mom, and dad are in.

You two wander around to where the backpacks are supposed to be hung, and your gaze wanders across the room to see a beautiful woman waving to a parent. The woman smiles at the other parent and crouches down to the little boy's level, then points to an empty seat before standing up and making eye contact with you. 

The woman is beautiful. Her dark brown hair flows effortlessly down to around where her ribs are. You find that it might be weird to think this, but her nose is perfect. The way it’s angled and the slope of it, and you surprise yourself at how much you like her nose, because you’ve never really thought about a nose like this. your gaze moves down to her peach-colored lips, and they look soft, lush, and really kissable-

you stop your thoughts on her lips there, because this is a woman you’ve just seen for the first time (and she’s making you all flustered and blushy like a stupid teenager in some romcom).

You look at her outfit, it’s cute and pretty, just like her. She wears a beige cardigan and white skirt that is loose on her thin figure, and the jewelry that completes her look is a small silver necklace sitting on her fair skin, just above her exposed collarbone, a small bracelet around her hand, and small gold earrings.

Hana feels the hand that holds hers slightly loosen up, and she looks up at you to see you staring across the room, ears tinted a shade of light pink. She looks over to what, or- who you’re looking at, which makes her tug at your sleeve, and it breaks you out of your trance.

“That’s my teacher, she’s really nice,” Hana says, smiling, “Last time, she gave me an extra sticker! Dad says she reminds him of you.”

“Me?”

“He says that she has the same warmth or something, I don’t know how people can be warm in the same way, that was kind of weird. He also said the way she talks to me reminds him of you.” Hana says. Your niece walks you over to the woman and she smiles at your niece,

“Y/n, this is Ms. Minatozaki.” Hana says shyly, tugging at your hand. 

“Hello, Hana. It’s nice to see you again.” The woman says, patting her head. Her voice is sweet and higher pitch, and the way she speaks is soft and welcoming, it even makes your cheeks warm up a bit. 

Her smile almost has you losing your balance, as if you were a weak tree getting hit by a gust of strong wind. The way her lips curved up to reflect her genuine joy in seeing your niece again made you weak in the knees. The woman’s gaze lands on you, and she makes eye contact. Her head is just barely angled when she looks up at you due to her being a couple of inches shorter, and you try not to fall into another trance from seeing her alluring features up close.

You try to compose yourself as you put your hand out to greet the beautiful woman, 

“Hello Ms, I’m y/n.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/n.” She replies. Sana is stunned by the woman in front of her, and it takes her a moment to really take in your presence. Your face is almost intimidating from how sharp your features are, and she’s trying not swoon over you in the moment seeing as you’re in the middle of introducing yourselves, and you’re (what she thinks,) Hana’s mother. 

her smaller hand fits yours perfectly as she shakes it. the world seems to pause for a bit as you realize this beautiful woman is shaking your hand, and it feels like you’re in a drama of some sort as everything slows down around you. She puts another hand on the outside of yours so that both hands are welcoming you into her precious workplace. 

Hana looks between the two women, a small smile tugging at her lips. She senses the spark that forms from the small interaction, and the way her aunt’s stoic and (usually) confident facade disappears at the moment.

You notice that your hands are still connected, and you pull away to run a hand through your hair, trying to play it off (you don’t, by the way, Hana reads right through you). 

You shift your look over to the little girl and squat down again to meet her level. A loose strand of hair that didn’t get braided is pushed behind your niece's ear by your slender fingers.

“Alright,” You say, placing a thumb on the girl's cheek, rubbing it lightly, “I’ll let you be off on your own, go have fun and be good okay? I’ll be here in the afternoon.”

“Yes y/n!” Hana beams, giving you a toothy grin. You laugh out softly and give her an almost identical grin back,

Your smile widens and there's a small feeling of worry that doesn’t go unnoticed. You really do hope everything goes well for your niece, after all, she’s your only niece and you just want the best for her. 

“If your teacher says you were good today, we can go to the cafe and I can make you your favorite hot chocolate, how about that? Ms. Dahyun also said she made a special croissant for you.”

“Please! Please! I’ll be good, I promise.” Hana says, practically jumping up and down. You smile at her enthusiasm and nod, 

“Alright, be good to Ms. Minatozaki lovely, I’ll see you later.” You say before you two exchange a nice, warm hug, and after you pull away, you push away her bangs and press a kiss to her forehead, lingering for a second.

You stand back up and watch the little girl run off on her own to an empty desk with coloring pages and markers, you smile at the sight.

“Hana is very enthusiastic, she’s a wonderful little girl from what I’ve seen so far. She’s so cute!” Ms. Minatozaki beams, and you turn your head to meet her gaze again, nodding.

“Yeah, she’s a curious little girl, and very bright.” You begin, then sigh, “I just hope she doesn’t cause any trouble. She’s pretty shy with new people, but she’s very energetic when she warms up and, well- you know how kids are.” You joke. 

Ms. Minatozaki lets out a giggle, and the way her nose scrunches makes you lose your cool a bit, it’s so cute that it has you laughing with her, and you don’t even bother to think about how pink your ears are right now.

“I’ll be going now Ms-”

“You can call me Sana, I mean, you’re not my student.” She says, laughing a little. 

“Definitely not.” You joke, and you want to joke on forever and make her laugh the whole day just to see how her face lights up and how adorable she looks when her nose scrunches slightly.

Sana watches you straighten out your dark brown jacket and her cheeks warm up a bit when you shoot her that cute smile of yours, but of course, you don’t notice due to how oblivious you are in the moment. The young teacher punches herself mentally for feeling a small flutter in her chest from who she thinks is her students’ mom, and she wonders how she’ll survive the year if she’ll see you more often.

“I’ll get going then, again, let me know if anything happens.” 

“Of course, I’ll make sure Hana has a great day,” Sana responds, nodding.

You and Sana exchange sweet smiles again, a similar warmth spreading through the two of you as you part. 

Before heading out the door, you wave to your niece again and the two of you smile at each other. You also take one more look at your niece's beautiful teacher, then head out to clock into your morning to afternoon shift.

Leaving the building, the sun seemed to shine a little brighter, and there was a new warmth in your chest knowing that Hana was in the hands and care of such a beautiful, sweet, and cute teacher: Ms. Minatozaki.

You were definitely going to convince your brother to let you take Hana to school more often, and pick her up regularly too.

… and little did you know, Sana would hope to see you often as well.

#sana x reader #twice x reader #twice imagines #twice sana #sana imagines #kpop x reader

[leebrontide]

Growing a tea garden?

Full disclosure, I once had an actual Camellia sinensis tree that I loved dearly and flowered for me and was such a joy. But I misunderstood some aspects of taking care of it, and after 2 years, I lost it, which was tragic. I've yet to find another one in an in-person shop near me, so I remain tea-less, technically.

BUT, last summer I found out that there's something called New Jersey Tea. Which, despite the English name, is native to a lot of northern North America, including my own area. And native planting is always a thrilling bonus for me.

Look at it! It's so pretty!

Perfect for a combo native prairie/English cottage garden vibe that's going to go well with all our fruit plants. Being native it's not fussy and I can mostly plant it and forget it, which is ideal. Plus it's a pollinator favorite.

There's a sort of mostly-dug-up garden along the back porch because the previous owners took some apparently massive rhubarbs with them. It's a sunny spot with some decent soil, so a good spot for a garden, and plus then you'd be hanging out with these nice, aromatic plants.

Supposedly, when it's fresh the leaves have an almost wintergreen taste, but when dried it tastes like a spiced black tea. It has no caffeine. It was also supposedly a huge favorite during the US revolution, when tea imports were difficult.

So, then I started thinking about what OTHER plants I can use for making tea that will grow in my frigid home climate.

Canadian Ginger

Just like now New Jersey Tea has no particular relation to Camelia, this is nothing to do with the tropical grown ginger, which is the ginger you probably think of. BUT, it has a deeper ginger taste.

Swamp Mallow Hibiscus

So, again, you think of Hibiscus as being tropical. I only thought to check because one of my neighbors has a bigass deep red hibiscus that's been flowering away every summer for years. Apparently it's some kind of hybrid situation that lets them grow here.

I thought this sort of coloration would look better with the kind of garden I've got going, since I don't want to look tropical.

I adore hibiscus tea. It's tangy, it's colorful. It's refreshing. but I'll be honest, I haven't been able to find any reviews of what the flavor of these hybrids is. If you happen to know, please pass on your knowledge to me.

Fireball Bee Balm

This may shock you, but bee balm is another very pollinator friendly plant. I'm looking to get the fireball type specifically because I like this crimson color. the more common colors are between lavender and hot pink, which are not so much my jam. Plus, it's another native plant to my area!

They have the added bonus of being on the short side, and bunnies don't really like them, so they can form a perimeter around my tea garden to protect the other plants. We have a serious lack of predators in my neighborhood and the rabbits are OUT OF CONTROL. Last winter they ate every one of my cherry shrubs and my entire raspberry bramble down to the ground at the old house. I don't know what we need to do to get some birds of prey over here but we could use them.

Bee balm flavor is a little mint, a little oregano, and a little bit citrus, so that's a natural for tea.

Rose Hips

Apparently you CAN look up which kinds of roses have the tastiest rosehips! Rose hips are the seed of the rose, are in the same botanical family as apples. These are a few of the tastier heirloom varieties I've located. I likely won't plant all three of them. My porch isn't that big and I want to leave a lot of room for the new jersey tea.

Rosehips are lightly floral and tart/citrusy and are a fantastic source of vitamin C. You can of course also eat the flowers, but I don't plan to. My grandma always wore tea-rose perfume and I don't really want to drink a tea that feels like drinking how gramma smelled.

The two lefthand roses are both tree roses (from the middle ages!!), the one on the right is much more low-growing. So I suspect how I end up arranging these will determine which we get.

Anise Hyssop

Proper anise (the flavor for licorice) also doesn't grow here, BUT, anise hyssop has a similar flavor from the mint family. Again, it's usually a purple or pink color, but I CAN find it in an apricot tone, which I love.

Dropmore Scarlet Honeysuckle

Native to IA, not MN but still in the general right biome and so pretty resilient here. I only found out in researching tea gardens that the flowers make for tasty, very sweet, lightly floral tea! I knew you could drink the nectar out of them but this was news to me. And, of course, they make everything around them smell amazing.

I have 16 feet to work with, so plenty of room for plants.

A few other plants that wont be in the garden proper are raspberries, whose leaves have a milder and easy to store version of the fruit flavor, and mint. Both of these though are tremendously prone to conquering any area around them, and so they need some extra containment. We don't really do year-round container gardening here because the roots freeze and kill almost anything. But, the boulevard between the front sidewalk and the street, under the big maple tree, is slated for mint seeding in the spring, and the side garden already has raspberries I'll tell you about on another day.

Chamomile, lavender and echinacea all grow here and are thought to make tasty and healthful tea but...I don't like the flavor of any of them, so they aren't invited.

If you have other plants to suggest, let me know!

#Stormbrew House #gardening #tea #tea garden #long post #gardenblr #gardeners on tumblr #garden planning #Stormbrew Garden

[kooktrash]

I'm struggling to process his smoking, but not for reasons most people are complaining about. I lost my grandma at a young age to emphysema. The only memories I really have of her are her oxygen tanks all over her home. She couldn't even leave her house because she was oxygen dependent. My uncle has emphysema and it's hard seeing him go through really bad coughing spells. There have been times where I thought he was going to pass out from coughing so hard. My parents have been heavy smokers for 40+ years, so I'm worried about them too. My mom's lips have ugly brown stains on them from all the smoking. My uncle's fingernails are stained brown. All of their teeth are stained brown. It's really hard seeing the people you love look like that and die from that.

Aside from that, I had first hand experience what living with smokers is really like. It's not a glamorous lifestyle. I lived at home with my parents for about 25 years. There is nothing worse than watching the pretty color you picked for your walls in your bedroom turn brown within a year of painting. There is nothing worse than picking up a picture frame of you and your best friend and feeling how sticky it is from nicotine. It covers everything and turns it all brown and sticky. And washing it? Forget about it. Just throw it away. And there is nothing worse than at 13/14 years old going to a friend's birthday party and your friends asking why you smell like an ashtray. And there's nothing worse than your friends not wanting to come to your house because of how bad the smell of smoke. I can't tell you how alienated I felt as a teenager because all of my friends hated the smell of smoke. My parents were the only smoking parents out of my friend group.

All I have are bad memories relating to people smoking. It led to a lot of embarrassment for me. So for me to see JK smoking, all I picture is him at 50 years old looking like my parents and uncle with their stained lips, teeth and fingernails, or worse, being oxygen dependent and dying like my grandma. It's very hard for me to process that JK isn't going to turn out like that. I just keep seeing the negative side of it, and the images are horrifying to me.

I know that he is a grown adult that is well aware of the risks of smoking. It's his decision to ignore those risks. I'm not about to parent him. I don't even know him, so my opinion doesn't matter to him. I hope he's smoking casually, or socially with friends. I hope he's not smoking several packs a day like my family members do. I know how important singing is to him, and I want him to have a happy, healthy, successful career. I don't want to see his career cut short because of the decisions he made in his 20s. I wish he would not only think about today, but also think 10, 20, 30 years down the line. Your body does not stay young forever. The things you do when you're young affect you greatly as you age. Once you hit your 40s and 50s, you wind up regretting a lot of stuff you did in your 20s. Trust me, I know from experience. It's true.

None of what I've said will ever change the way I adore him. I think he is an amazing person, and a wonderful singer. He will always be my bias. I will never abandon him as a fan. I will always support him. But I don't have to support or like every decision he makes. We are all unique and we all have different opinions because we have experienced different things in life. For me, smoking has always been negative. So I come at his smoking from a negative point of view. Somehow I will have to accept it and move on and not let it bother me so much. But for now it's fresh in my mind and bothering me. I hope you can understand why I feel the way I feel.

i totally get it and this is just my opinion now but I’ve also always been surrounded by smokers all my life and I guess for ME I just don’t think of it as that big of a deal. Not to mention, most of us already knew that he vaped and like we knew Taehyung did too y’know and i think Yoongi but im not sure, I guess I just don’t see how it’s that big of a surprise to some [not saying you <3] to see him smoke and then attack him for it. he’s grown and he knows the dangers of smoking and like you don’t have to support his decisions but it’s the people villainizehim for a norm thing that drive me nuts

#‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ inbox ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙𖤐

[pinkboxess]

2 and 30 for the ask game :))))

2: What's your feel-good movie?

To be honest, I am a lot more of a TV-show girl. The visual media that I turn to for comfort include:

Ted Lasso (obviously)

Derry Girls

My not-exactly-legal copies of The Mysterious Benedict Society season 1, which previously was on Disney+

But there are also some movies that I can mention:

Mary Poppins. I have a real big soft spot for Mary Poppins. And I also really like the newer sequel!

Lemonade Mouth is my favourite Disney Channel movie from childhood, and the songs are still so good. I love it.

Little Women (2019) is a stunning adaptation of which I love everything about, except for that one promotional photo that features Amy wearing Ugg boots, as if those existed in the 19th century.

30: What reminds you of the feeling of home?

A few things. The smell of saltwater and beach. I grew up in a town on the water, and going down to the docks or walking along the beach are sensory experiences that I associate with childhood and safety.

My grandma's house. I was lucky enough to have my grandparents living 5 minutes away from my own family's house growing up. I have spent so much time at their house over the years. Every room in that house contains years and years of memories throughout different stages of my life. My grandparents and the relationship I have with them is special to me. I'm also just kind of sad thinking about their house, because they are getting old enough that the stairs are not going to be accessible for much longer, so we are having conversations about moving. I will just be so sad to lose that house even though I of course want them to live somewhere suited to their needs as they age.

#ask answered #thanks for the ask!

[salary-stick]

How I almost got kidnapped or maybe it was just a creepy guy with an extra chromosome or why do I have the fear of purple bicycles now.

Yesterday I went for a walk alone in my grandma's village (I always come there during summer and usually live there until school time, I am a teenager in highschool. The village is gigantic and even though there are a lot of immigrants (they are considered shady and untrustful members of society) I wasn't afraid to be alone because the rest of the people were nice and there was always someone outside who I could call for help. Don't want to say my country's name, so I'll just mention that we have a boarder with a much poorer nation, people run to our country as illegal immigrants in hopes that they will live happy wealthy lives here. Unfortunately, our own country is not that far from their level of living, in fact, soon the situation will go reverse. We are rolling down the hill unless the current government situation won't get any better. In that country's culture women are not considered people but property. Every man, since he is "God's son", must have a servant that will give him children, take care of them and the rest of the house. So yeah, women are destined to be housewifes in that country and there's nothing they can do about it. Why? Because the rest of the population of that country is perfectly ok with that ( I mean men). And of course every man wants the prettiest wife he can get, "theft of brides" is very common (when man still women and force them to mary them). Also I feel like I should mention that there's no need for brides agreement and documents in order to get married. By the way the brides age can be as little as 12 or 14 (to lazy to check) and yes girls really do become pregnant and give birth at that age, they become mothers for their children while technically still being children themselves. And although that situation does happen rarely, it's completely legal and approved by society. So... you see where I'm going with this? Back to the story, I went for a walk on Sunday morning, parents come to visit their children on the weekends and houses alone the streets are always filled with happy noesis and the smell of breakfast. This morning was the same, some families  were already done with the meal and had went for a walk like I did. IT'S WEEKEND'S MORNING EVERYONE ARE OUTSIDE AND THE SUN IS BRIGHTER THAN EVER. WHAT MANIAC WOULD EVER THINK TO DO HIS STUFF NOW?! In front of all those people?! Yet still I was lucky enough to come across one of them. (By maniac I mean a "bride thief") I had gone pretty far from home but I'm used to long-distance walks (I like to listen to audiobooks while walking). The first time I saw him was when I was walking down the big road, he sprinted on a purple old metal bicycle past me and bended over to look into my face so hard that he almost fell off. I didn't think much about it. "Maybe he is just a crazy guy from this neighborhood who I will never see again." But once I turned from a bustling road to a quiet ordinary street, he appeared again, this time he slowed down to ride besides me and started talking. I was in my headphones so I ignored him, but his mouth kept moving so I took them off. He started asking questions:

- What's your name?

-I don't talk to strangers.

-Why?

-Because it's dangerous. (Is he dump or has an extra chromosome, I thought to myself.)

-What's your name?

-That information is not for you.

-How old are you?

-I'm not telling you that.

-Can we get acquainted?

- No.

-Where do you live?

I pointed my hand in random directeon.

-Why are you so beautiful?

-Got beautiful parents.

I suddenly turned around and while walking in an opposite direction called my dad. He told me to run for my life but I didn't think that, that would be a good idea (what if he sees my escape attempt and moves on from talking into action). Luckily I didn't have to have this debate with myself for too long. A car with a married couple pooled over and told me to get in. My dad had a quick word with them and they decided to take me home. I was saved by those strangers and we'll be forever grateful for that car ride. A woman from the car told me that she saw him following me and that when I turned in opposite direction he turned after me. I got home safely and spent the rest of the day playing video games trying to forget about it. But I guess since that experience is also connected to my worst nightmares (getting married and been enslaved by a man or just getting raped. Yes those are my worst fears, not dark, heights or enclosed spaces) I can't just stop thinking about it. My brain is coming up with all sorts of horrible sceneries of what would happen if the car hadn't pooled over and I don't know how to make it stop. It's driving me nuts and I already have my family to do it.

Now I'll answer some obvious questions:

-What were you wearing?

-Blue jeans, pink t-shirt, snickers and a black purse where I always keep my phone for situations like this (though it was the first one).

-Was it a bad neighborhood?

-I've never heard that about that street.

-Were there any people around?

-Not on the street but I saw people outside in their gardens.

-Where were your parents?

-They were in the city taking care of some stuff and my grandma was at home.

-What time of day was it?

-Maybe 11 am. So yeah... even though walks during day time at public places don't eliminate unpleasant encounters like this one, they at least make the chance of running into one of them smaller and give you a good opportunity for a safe escape.

Good luck on your next walk. And don't get too paranoid, there are still plenty of good people.

[diteach]

2020 in review

I was tagged by @apeironaxiomaton to look back at 2020 and pretty much to try and not hate it so much! Thank you!!

Also I’m stealing the idea of putting everything under a cut, which I have never done in my life (and probably should start doing) bc it makes things neat as heck. Almost none of these are in a particular order.

Top 5 movies I saw this year:

Volevo Nascondermi by Giorgio Diritti - this movie is REALLY good AND I have good memories tied to the protagonist for Reasons I’m gonna cry bye (a shame that I’ve only watched this other excellent movie starring Elio Germano tonight bc it should be on this list)

Emma (2020)

The King’s Speech

Spirited Away or Porco Rosso - I had watched the first before and never the second so I think the fairer choice would be Porco Rosso but I’m not entirely convinced of it

The Wolf of Wall Street - look, I simply have a weak spot for stories that are so absurd they can be nothing but real (see “the other Elio Germano movie”)

Top 5 TV shows I watched this year:

Murdoch Mysteries - it will stay engraved in the first place of EVERY chart in saecula saeculorum and NO nothing can take its place I don’t care

Peaky Blinders

Alias Grace - which I was sure was a movie? I was so shocked to discover it isn’t like was it really six hours long what the

The Queen’s Gambit

Suburra: Blood on Rome - “The series was developed by Daniele Cesarano and Barbara Petronio for Netflix, making it its first Italian-language original television series.” I’ll be honest, some bits were a little bit hmm-inducing. Not the best tv series I’ve ever seen, but it managed to be fun and easy to watch. Suspenseful even!

Top 5 Songs:

So there’s a reason why Spotify said I’m an octogenarian this year and for as much as I complain about it... it’s right... Spotify’s right. And it will only get worse, I’m afraid. All the songs are from the same playlist which was my most listened to (and is the most interesting to share imo). I swear I have listened to other, newer things as well.

Shake That Thing by The Abe Lyman’s California Orchestra

Night Hawk Blues by The Coon-Sander’s Nighthawk Original Orchestra

Where the Sweet Forget-Me-Nots Remember by Merle Johnston and His Ceco Couriers (I’ve loved these flowers since I was a kid it was so nice to find a song with them in the title!!)

Dew Dew Dewey Day by Nat Shilkret

The Panic is On by Mezz Mezzrow And His Swing Band

Top 5 Books I Read This Year:

so this is embarrassing,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,I “bought” an insane amount of books and read a grand total of...like...t w o. It was actually like four and some short stories (which I hated and are therefore banished from the good boy list) so I’m gonna list my silly little titles and make my silly little comments about them all. From “””””best””””” to “worst” we have:

The Adventures of a Modest Man by Robert W. Chambers - I literally cannot shut up about this book and, yes, it is the one tied to this illustration, about which I equally cannot shut up about. It’s so horrible that it makes a 360 and comes back as good, but not before hitting you with a cardboard tube for a laugh and subsequently stabbing you in the kidneys just because it can. I think we can confidently state that we are in the “I didn’t say it was good, I said I liked it” realm. I have so many questions about this book. Why was it written? Was it taking itself seriously? Was it commissioned by someone? Why is it so gay but only if you know that the author is a man? Maybe it’s a parody? Was it an experiment made by the author to test his own skill? I know jack about literature, unfortunately, so grain of salt here but it made me feel strong feels. Not that I could identify any of them if you asked, but they’re definitely there.

Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats by T.S. Eliot - I’m counting this in bc what is a book if not a patchwork of silly little paragraphs anyway so yes, we have a collection of poems. Not only do I know jack about literature; as a matter of fact, I know jack about poetry as well! All I’m gonna say is: I like cute things, I like cats, the poems were cute AND about cats. I really liked it! I often find myself going back and reading again specific parts just for the delight it is to read them out loud! I also may or may not have named the cats you can adopt in Stardew Valley after some of Eliot’s cats. The movie Cats (2019) did one good thing: making me read this.

How You Can Keep Fit by Rudolph Valentino - Yes, that is correct. A book on fitness written (in English!) by silent movie superstar Rodolfo Valentino. It is less than 100 pages on real, actual exercises that the reader can replicate in the comfort of their own house with little to no equipment. With a sprinkle of old timey manly manner of speaking, a few anecdotes from the author’s childhood in ye merry Italian countryside, a dusting of precious advice against ice-cream, and a dash of genuine intrigue for these newly discovered “vitamins” everyone is talking about. Overall a fascinating read that I treasure dearly! Valentino also wrote a book of poems, which I am absolutely thrilled to read this year.

For Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway - Hmm.. I have mixed feelings about this one. Whenever the original language of a book is English, I instinctively want to read it in that language. Because I can! And because that way I get to read exactly what the author wrote. If it was another language, I’d get a translation, make peace with the fact that selling my soul to acquire perfect knowledge of all things is morally questionable, and call it a day. Problem: I’m a sucker for old books. And old books I did find indeed. There were three books by Hemingway for sale, very pretty, and for an almost symbolic price too so I bought them. They are Italian translations from the late 50s and my plan was to go through one in Italian, one in English, and after that, decide in which language to read the last one. I believe it was a mistake for me to start with Italian in Hemingway’s case. He’s known for having a very, VERY peculiar style that is integral to how the novels are perceived and I feel like I've robbed myself of literal peace of mind. For as much as I found the story interesting, I could not ignore the voice in the back of my head that kept wondering “was it necessary to render it like this?”. It did make me feel feels and think thoughts, but honestly? It was partially for the wrong reasons imo. It’s one of those books you should read at least once in your life, I guess, so I’m definitely glad I did it! Surprisingly, it captured me more than I expected and trapped me into its little world. I could clearly imagine the scenes in my head, which hadn’t happened in years! I’m really excited to move on to the next two books and finally be able to say if I appreciate his style or not.

Top 5 positive things that happened to me in 2020:

Visited Rome and took a stroll around on my own (sort of) for the first time in my life. I had never seen it at night :) Right after that I celebrated my birthday and got some cute gifts, including sweets that were sent all the way from Australia!!

Managed to buy my mom a gift, which is possibly the only real Accomplishment of 2020.

Took a bizarre trip this summer (I know, guilty) and fell in love with Slovenia

Discovering I like textile arts kinda gave me hope for myself and for the future. I say kinda for I dare not think concretely of anything too positive lest it should be prematurely taken from me. I shan’t elaborate. It is what it is.

Therapy!!!

The last few months of 2020 really hit me hard whereas in the beginning nothing was too bad so it was nice to see the list growing and growing! So many tiny good things happened and it’s worth to cling onto them. I’m tagging @sonicysuchillydog, @nurmilintunen, @alfonzone and anyone else who’d like to participate!! “Tell them I sent you” lol. Guys.............if you don’t feel like going thru your 2020 feel free to ignore bc......I get it............................

#mutuals #apeironaxiomaton #year review #yeah that book section is uhhhhhhhhhhhh #oof #i feel like this year the situation is finally going to change and i very much look forward to that #ive been trying to get myself to read more for ages and i feel that now whatever was stopping me has been partially removed/has gone away #there's LOTS of anya taylor-joy in this list hm #in case anyone cares yes i loved her in emma yes i hated her (and probably will hate in the upcoming season) in peaky blinders #and yes i was scared of her in the queens gambit #shes a good actress! i like her :) #there's also lots of old age and the smell of my grandma's house #not sure how to feel abt THAT #also incredibly lots of I T A L Y #my country and i are in an abusive relationship in which it keeps beating me but i keep going back for love #its complicated #i didn't think i had SO MUCH to say #im sorry guys as usual my posts get long and messy #edit: actually in the tv series thing there should also be the man in the high castle #i had (illegally lol) watched the first two seasons years ago and stopped bc i couldnt find the newer episodes #this year i watched it all over again and i have to say i enjoyed it much more than the first time! #i also already have the book so 👀👀👀 looking forward to that too 👀

[extremelyblackandwhite]

illicit affairs

pairing: sheriff lee bodecker x younger! reader

warnings: smut (18+), cheating, age gap

a/n: i love perfumes which smell of daisies so i made the reader use something like that. i do imagine her going for a very much female appearance and aura despite her personality and i can see lee fancying that sort of fragile femininity look paired with her independency. this song is based of illicit affairs from taylor swift but i was also listening to all too well at some points so i think some of that passed onto the writing. hope you enjoy xx

> DRESS

Leave the perfume on the self that you picked up just for him so you leave no trace behind like you don’t even exist. Take the words for what they are a dwindling, mercurial high, a drug that only worked the first few hundred times ... And you wanna scream don’t call me “kid”, don’t call me “baby”, look at this idiotic fool that you made me. You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else. And you know damn well for you I would ruin myself a million little times ...

The snow settled onto the ground, a view she could see from her white window. Sprawled against her window pane, the blue soft fabric of her dress cascaded down her body as she watched the snow fall and become one with the mass of white covering the once green grass of her home. Her feet dangled in anticipation, hair cascading into hairdresser set curls, held away from her face with a pearl barrette. Her fingers dangled across her collarbones, feeling the cold matching pearls which unlike her barrette clip, had been offered to her by Lee on thanksgiving. “A pretty girl like you deserves her own pearls” his voice echoed in her mind whenever her feeling felt the smooth irregular circle shapes of the pearls laying against her collarbones. There was nothing more than she wanted than to wear those pearls to the police winter ball, to show up wearing something he had bought for her with what money he gathered from his fickle Captain position, but she couldn’t. Everyone knew what she had, what jewellery she had, it was all valued at the insurance centre downtown and the pearl necklace definitely wasn’t. Her own pearls rested inside her ivory jewellery box along with the ribbon she was wearing around her waist when she first kissed him, and the comb that held her hair in place whenever she met him during windy nights. 

Her grandmother had left before her, leaving with the grocery shop owner as her date for the ball but she had stayed behind. She had told her she’d rather go alone, blaming her loneliness on the fact all the boys her age were either engaged thus going with their wives and the single ones not wanting to do with her. Of course that was further from the truth and as she watched the snow fall, she imagined Lee’s cruiser driving through the snow, stopping in front of her home and knocking on her door to take her. But those were nothing but impossible scenarios created from the deepest part of her psyche. Looking over her shoulder, the clock on her bedside table shone 9PM into bold red letters. She should get going before her grandmother got worried. Her eyes lingered across her beauty parlour to the silver platter with her perfume, the one she’d picked just for him after hearing how much he loved the smell of daisies. She had to leave it, she couldn’t put any perfume on, she couldn’t take her pearls, she doesn’t exist. At least, she as Lee’s lover does not exist for all that everyone could know and nothing hurt more than the sound of her pearls returning to her ivory box. It was were they belonged, away from everyone, hidden, a mysterious sin secret. 

With her white fur wrapped around her arms, she entered her glossy yet dull red car, pulling the hood up despite the weather. She wanted to feel the cold, she wanted that numbness to hide what she had been feeling for the last months. It was all so exhilarating when it began; the summer walks, laying in the middle of the forest in an old towel as he feed her ripe strawberries, escaping from her grandmother’s house at night and meeting him up under the apple tree in light dresses. However, at time wind down, she started to crave the rest of a relationship, the holding of hands. Instead what she got was clandestine meetings in parking lots, behind the bars or in the middle of the forest when no one could see them. She constantly told herself it was going to eventually be her turn, he was gonna leave Jane for her. Yet, she seemed to constantly fall on the same error every mistress before her did, the mistake of forgetting her place. Stopping in front of the old town hall where the ball was being held, she could see the soft lights, hear the laughter and it made her sick. She didn’t want to go in, she didn’t want to see those happy couples but she had too. She had to put up a show, be the little pedestal trouble starter woman she was expected to be and so she would. 

Stepping into the hall, her eyes immediately found Lee in the corner speaking with the Sheriff, arm draped over Jane’s shoulder while the other hand held a clear cup probably with his favourite drink. Her heart sunk to the same place it always did as she got lost in the dance floor. She knew everyone in this town hall, from the first boy she ever kissed Jonah and his third wife Elizabeth to Billy whom had been prom king with her. There was nothing new anymore and what once felt new and true was now anchoring her inside a fishbowl of images of her own mistakes and unfulfilled life needs. 

      - Hey, Y/N. - Billy called out for her attention. She held onto the fur wrapped around her for comfort as she prepared her facade of a happy girl at a happy party. - Your grandma told me you ain’t gotta a partner for tonight. Could’ve told me, I would’ve taken you. 

      - It’s ok, ain’t like I need a man. - she replied, almost angrily although he deserved no anger from her. - What’s the stage for? We’re getting a band tonight?

      - No, the new sheriff candidates announcing themselves tonight. Prepare for the blood bath. 

      - Sounds interesting. - she spoke out, her voice getting mumbled out as the mic’s sound hurt her and everyone else’s ear. The police chief stood there in his best attire, holding a small piece of papers, his fat thumbs hitting the mic to gather everyone’s attention. He already had their attention merely by wearing a cowboy’s hat with a formal suit. 

       - Now folks, we all now how much we gonna miss our good old Sheriff but it’s time to elect a new one. - his southern accent was pronounced, too pronounced, cartoonish even. Y/N remembered laughing as a child when she first heard him speak only to immediately shut up when her grandmother looked her way with a look which left room for no questions. She herself had barely developed an accent, her grandmother still very keen on instilling in her the education she herself had gotten. However, the longer she spent with Lee, the more it would sometimes slip; one or two words, nothing major. - Of course, Leroy is running again.

     - I don’t know why he tries. - Y/N whispered to Billy, concealed laughing smile behind her hand. 

     - You gotta admit it’s a good thing to imagine. Damned Leroy and his prostitutes running the town? We’d be forgotten by God.

     - We’re already forgotten by God. We were banished from the garden of Eden, don’t you remember? - she teased, always enjoying to toy around with the religion Knockemstiff was so hang up on. - We’re probably direct descendants. 

     - You ought to keep that mouth shut if you don’t wanna get in trouble. - he warned yet it went through deaf ears. Y/N liked stirring it, specially when it came to things which were so analytically flawed. 

The regular list of candidates continued to go from officers to common folk who all believed they could make the town better. At least that was all they said they wanted to get some votes but at the end of the day, they just wanted to control the town with an iron fist. Do what they wanted without anyone question it. She couldn’t blame it, humans are hardwired to go crazy for power and let it consume them so she just let it pass. She knew all the candidates, they were always the same. Leroy, Matthew, Edwards ... all the common ones, she even wondered why they kept announcing it. Those three competing for the sheriff position was as certain as the sun coming up each morning. 

      - The last candidate is our cap’tain Bodecker. - her head snapped to the stage as every sound seemed to dim until she was surrounded by pure silence. All she could hear was the buzz from her ears as she watched him climb up the stairs to the stage, shaking the chief’s hands. 

Everything seemed to be stuck in slow motion yet her mind was running faster than a shot bullet. The clapping was slow, everything was silent yet she could see their hands slowly clap and their lips moving in whispers. Her eyes roamed the crowd finding Jane right in front of the stage, looking up at him with adoration at the possible place she could possible hold; the sheriff’s wife. The slow motion ended with a loud crash and suddenly everything seemed just too fast. She ignored Billy’s pleas for her attention and moved straight to the small plastic tables covered in burgundy towels to make it look fancier where all the drinks and food were being held. One of her only friends from high school Mary was the one in charge, happily serving food and drinks to anyone who asked.

     - Hi Y/N. - she always looked like the perfect housewife and that was always what she wanted to be. Beautiful, bountiful blonde hair with a few flowers matching her pink dress. Despite it all, she was always nice to her even with their different life goals. 

     - Hey Mary. How’s Paul? I heard from rumours you two had quite a nice honeymoon. St.Louis, right? 

     - Yes. He booked us a nice honeymoon suite, it had flowers and those heart shaped beds and chocolates. It was real nice, I’m hoping to be pregnant soon. What about you? Your grandmother said you came alone. You could’ve told me, my brother would’ve taken you.

    - That’s alright, Mary. I don’t intend to stay for long ... Uhm, can I have a drink?

    - Of course. Sidecar, as per usual? 

    - I think I’ll just have a double cognac, please. Or maybe some gin ... whatever can make me dizzy the fastest.

    - Everything, okay?

    - Just need to forget some stuff, it’ll be okay. - she forced a smile. At least half that phrase was true. Mary served her up with her best gin and she returned to the dance floor, trying to blend with the rest of the attendees, however her baby blue dress was much too different from anything else in town. 

Y/N thought she’d be best outside where no one could see her and so she left, avoiding Billy who kept asking for her. She leaned against the old wood of the town hall, mascara running down her cheeks, and gin glass on the other one. She looked like the perfect warning tale of why you should not mess her married men. She knew better, she knew so much better but she still did it, like the idiotic little fool she seemed to be. Y/N sighed, the air condensing in the air as she drank from the glass.

     - Pull yourself together, Y/N. - she looked to see side, her grandmother standing outside with the look she used to give her when Y/N embarrassed her as a little girl. - What did you expect?

     - I’m just not having a good day, nana.

     - You’re hanging around with Captain Bodecker that’s what you’re doing.

     - What?

     - Don’t play innocent with me, Y/N. You’re just like your mother and I’ve raised your mother so I’d know. I saw you leave in his car last week. Do you want to defend yourself?

     - Is it even worth it? - she took a sip out of her drink. - What do you want me to say? 

     - I want you to pull yourself together and go inside. You better have this finished off before those elections start. I will not have my granddaughter be a home wrecker.

Y/N ignored it. There was nothing her grandmother could say that hurt more than what she was already feeling. She watched the snow fall from the cover of the banner covering the town hall, cold and icy yet somehow warmer than her. The drink didn’t last forever and although it was much stronger than what she was used to, she didn’t feel the slightest bit dizzy. It was if the universe was punishing her for her choices. She shook her head, leaving the glass onto one of the windows. She’d be better off at home and she’d already made her appearance. If someone asked where she was, she could’ve blamed it on their drunkness. Opening her little clutch, she started fishing for her keys through a sea of change, makeup and receipts. 

    - You better not be thinking of driving after you just drank. - she turned her head to see Lee with his hands on his waist, playfully smiling at her. His smile faded as he noticed the streaks of mascara from her eyes to her jaw. - Did that shithead Billy say something? 

     - No ... Lee, I wanna go home okay. - she sighed. - Can you just pretend you didn’t see me drink?

     - I was hoping we could spend the night together. Rent a hotel room outside town. A real nice place, with a pool and some room service. My treat of course.

     - I ... We can’t, Lee. Your wife is inside as she’s gonna notice you’re not there and you’re not home. 

     - She’s going home early. Jane’s been taking a few sleeping pills. She’s down for the night, won’t even notice. - he took a few steps closer to her, knowing everyone was too drunk to even remember. - I was waiting for you to come greet me, congratulate me. I can’t believe my girl wanted to leave before showing me how pretty she looked. 

     - You didn’t tell me you were running for Sheriff. - he cupped her face, thumb caressing her cheek. - You said it was a silly position.

     - Yeah but ... it’s a Sheriff. I could become Mayor, ya know. The old sheriff thinks I’d be good for it. - he scratched the back of his neck, something he always did whenever he was nervous or was confronted by something he did not expect. Y/N had learned to read him and knew him better than her own favourite books. - C’mon, kid. It’s a night worth celebrating, don’t you think?

     - Don’t call me kid. - she shot her head his way, his word hitting a particular hurt spot which she didn’t realise she had. 

     - Hey, I’m not trying to mock ya. - he rose his hands. - What’s wrong, huh baby? Hm? Tell me sugar, I hate it when you’re upset. Besides, if it was that Billy kid I’ve been wanting to give him a good beating.

    - Don’t call me baby, either. - she sighed, throwing her purse inside the car, before turning to him. - Billy didn’t do anything I’m just ... tired.

    - I’ll drive you home, then.

    - I don’t wanna go home either. - she pushed her hair from her forehead, looking at the ground. The snow engulfed her feet and her shoes, yet it might as well have engulfed her entire being. Lee noticed her lip trembling and how her free hand was trying to stop tears from falling down. He looked behind him, the town hall door shut, before taking his jacket off, draping it over her shoulders, and opening the car door for her. 

 Y/N daren’t look him in the eye, instead sitting in the passenger seat as he pushed the hood of her car up. After all, most people did not enjoy driving in the snow with the hood up. She didn’t know where he was taking her and for all it mattered she didn’t want to know. If he was driving her to her killing location, it sounded much better than having to work out through the bubbling feelings in her tummy. Y/N didn’t even noticed how much she was crying until the tears started streaming so fast they were falling onto the palms of her hands like diamond daggers. She leaned her head against his shoulder, watching the road ahead through the blurry orbs of her own eyes, trying to find some warmth through him. The drive seemed endless and her mind rushed in an even more endless way as she considered all her choices til now. She found it unbearable how not guilty she didn’t feel about it. She could still remember the feeling of the cold water against her body and his lips against hers, being tangled in his bed sheets while he drank a beer, his grunts as he thrusted into her inside his patrol car. She remembered every detail either it being lust or romantic but most importantly she remembered how he looked at her. It was almost as through rose coloured glasses, most of the times agreeing with her pessimist view of the town she was in. Lee looked down on her, watching her perfect hair break through the gelled curls she had set down. He never liked the polished look anyway, he loved to see her walk in her white dresses and freshly washed hair flowing with the wind. This woman sat next to him was gorgeous but he preferred his Y/N, he preferred the woman who would poke fun of casualty and rush into the woods with her nightgown. This woman next to him was pretty yes but she seemed tainted by a sadness he could see yet couldn’t help. He didn’t want his Y/N to be the slightest bit sad. She did not deserve it. She was too pure, too young to be consumed by the loneliness, darkness and sadness that came with being an adult. Yet again, he had to start learning the young woman she was wouldn’t stay young forever. He wanted to know how to help. he wanted to be the man who wakes up next to her on summer mornings and winter evenings but life is not how we plan it out to be.

She watched the snow fall from her window as “You are my sunshine” played on the background from her radio. Looking up to him, his eyes were glued to the road, the sign of leaving Knockemstiff way past them and the hotel on the horizon. She called it the Heartbreak hotel, with its red walls and luxurious nature. A more fancy place for those who wanted to give a better night to their mistresses but that was not why she called it the heartbreak hotel. It was due to the fact she ended up crying every time she or he left. While inside those walls, she could pretend they were Mr. and Mrs. Bodecker, young couple moved out of Knockemstiff on a romantic getaway yet she wasn’t Mrs. Bodecker, Jane was. She had seen who the future sheriff’s wife was and it was not and it would never be her. He stopped the car in the parking lot, looking at her who was lost in thought, leaned against his shoulder.

   - Come on, sugar. What is it? - Lee kissed the top of her head. - The heck happened in that Town Hall?

    - Just being silly, Lee. - she shook her head, faking a smile. - Just don’t like parties one bit.

    - I hate ‘em too, sugar. All show no action. Besides no party is a party without my baby. - he hooked his ring finger under her chin, softly pulling it up. She tried not to look at the moonlight illuminating the silver band around his finger, a symbol he belonged to someone else and she knew it. She had seen the wedding photo on his secretary, a much younger Lee with a much younger Jane with the facade of a happy marriage. Thinking about it always made her sick and ever since seeing that picture she couldn’t bring herself to do so. - Come on, let’s get you a bubble bath, yeah?

She followed him into the hotel almost in a zombie like state until the reception. The talk was a dance she had danced before, it was all the same. Lee would present money in cash so it wouldn’t show up on his credit card statement. He would sign in with a fake address but with his own name and no one would question it. After all, the staff wanted money, they didn’t care if it was an illicit affair or not. To be honest, she didn’t care much anymore.

     - Mrs. Bodecker? Mrs. Bodecker? - the receptionist called out to her but it didn’t even register until she was looking her into the eyes. Mrs. Bodecker, she was definitely not. - Would you like a complementary tea? You look cold.

     - No, it’s okay. - she smiled while Lee grabbed the keys. His hand wrapped itself around hers, leading her over to the elevator.

God, she wanted him. She really did, he thought to himself. It was an unbelievable feeling to have someone who loved him back, someone who always had encouraging words to tell him, someone who would stay after a fight. He thought and imagine what it would’ve been like if she was born earlier, god he would’ve courted her and would’ve married her the second they were out of high school. Sadly, the woman he loved was born 10 years after and he met her when he was married. He led her to the 13th hotel room and closed the door behind them.

     - Things are gonna be different when I’m sheriff. No more sneaking around, no one will dare  say a word. I can move to Brewer Heights, heck, I can buy two houses, one just for you and me.

    - Lee ...

    - Where are your pearls, sugar? You know I love to see you with them, makes you look so pretty.

    - You know I can’t wear them in public, Lee. I am not your ... - she shouldn’t say that, she should not let those words out. - They’re not insured under my name, people would comment about it.

     - You worry too much. - he pushed the fur that covered her arms down, placing a small kiss on her elbow. - My little over-thinker.

     - One of us has too, Captain Bodecker.

     - How about some champagne? - he pointed towards the champagne bottle in the ice bucket by the dresser before walking towards it, raising it so he could inspect the brand. He longed for the finest things in life, no longer wanting to be that middle to low class man he’d been forced to be. Being Sheriff, Mayor someday was going to be really something, it’d be his chance.

    - I’m not 21 yet, Captain.

    - Only a month til you are, kid. - he filled two long crystal flutes, handing it over to them. - By then I should stop calling you kid, huh?

    - You shouldn’t call me kid, now. - she took a sip of the golden liquid, hoping it would take away her jealousy. Lee hummed, leaned over to kiss the crock of her neck, climbing up to her jaw in a move that was sure to leave marks. It was okay for him to leave marks on her, she was unmarried, young but on him? Sometimes she wanted to, sometimes she wanted to mark his pale plump skin as a possession, one that screamed Jane might have the wedding ring but she had the man. Yet, she couldn’t. - You look so handsome tonight.

    - You’re my worse critic. - he smirked, placing his glass on the bedside table before pulling her chin towards him, placing a soft kiss on her plump, painted lips. - God, you can’t even imagine how fucking hard I got when you walked in.

    - Such gentle behaviour. - she teased, fingers lightly tracing the skin of his face. He moaned, leaning in to kiss her again. - I wore it just for you. Blue. I knw you like it.

    - You’re always such a good girl for me. - he started to remove his jacket, pushing on her chest lightly so she laid against the luxurious bed.

The alcohol sure did a better job than her about making her forget what she was doing it. The alcohol and his kiss, his touch on her skin made her forget the clench in her heart when she saw Jane Bodecker clap once they said his name. It made her forget she couldn’t hear perfume around him unless he showered, it made her forget. Both of her moaned through the kiss, seemingly unconcerned with the fact that it was a sin. Maybe that’s why it taste so sweet, the sin, the thrill. None of them cared really and all he wanted to do now was hold her, touch her, look at her.

    - You are so beautiful. - he spoke, more to himself than to her specifically, leaning down on the bed as he spread her legs, taking his place in between them which was so familiar to him. Lee ran his knuckles through the middle of her folds, cold hands making her shiver. - Ev’ry darn day I wake up and I think, I got myself the most beautiful woman in the world.

Her eyes were glued to the ceiling, the white paint of it engulfing her as his hands caressed her thighs. All she could feel were his cold hands massaging the skin of her thighs, spreading them apart and giving him full access to her. His lips attacked her core, always chapped which made her feel so good, it made her know it was him giving her that pleasure. She moaned out loud as he dwelled in like a starved man, her head relaxing against the pillow. There was never any mercy with him, he teased her like he owned her, focusing on her clit while licking her folds. He had her exactly where he wanted her - starving for him.

   - You’re gonna see. - he mumbled out while he relentlessly ate her out. - When I’m sheriff there will be no more hidin’. No one gonna dare say anythin’ about it.

   - Lee, please ... no foreplay. - she whined, begged even as he stopped his motions. His eyes curiously searched for hers, hands pulling his body up as he stood on top of her. - I just want to feel you.

   - Weren’t you feelin’ me, sugar?

   - You know what I mean, Lee. - she wrapped her hands around his neck, head cocked to the side. - I don’t want any foreplay today.

    - Oh sugar ... - he chuckled leaning down to kiss her collarbone. - You’re just a cock slut for me, aren’t ya? Can’t just wait for me to treat ya right ain’t it, baby?

     - Lee, please. - she whined, hands wavering over his police issued chunky belt. Lee smirked, holding her hand before she could do anything. Y/N pouted, head leaning against her shoulder. - C’mon.

   - But baby, you look so pretty when you’re begging. - he returned to kiss her neck, leaving marks which were sure to become hickeys tomorrow but she didn’t care. No one was going to see it. - I was expecting you to come congratulate me in the way you always do, maybe in the back of the town hall. Hoping someone would catch us so they’d see you’re my girl.

    -  Lee ... -  she whined as he kept kissing her neck and collarbones. - Please.

    - Tell me what you want, baby. You know I do everything you want. - he rose from her neck, toothy grin as he leaned down to kiss her plump, pink painted lips. - Tell me you want my big fat cock. I know you do, baby. Tell me how much you need it. 

  - Lee ... please, need you.

  - You have me, baby, tell me what you need. Tell me what you want. - his knuckles ran through the middle of her folds again. - You’re so wet, baby. Just tell me what you want, c’mon

  -  Lee ... please. - she looked at him with those wide eyes that could get someone to commit murder for her, as he pushed down his trousers. - I want you to fuck me with your ... big fat cock, Capitain. 

  - Oh, baby ... - he leaned his forehead against hers as he pushed his cock past her entrance, eyes shut tight  as he tried to keep himself sane at the mere feeling of her walls contracting against him. His lips found hers as he shed himself fully into her. Her hand searched for his, as Lee slowly rolled his hips against hers, basking in the mere high that was being inside of her. - You okay, baby? 

  - Yeah. ... fuck, move. - she whined as he removed himself from her and pushed back in, slowly starting to rock into her as he always did. The little tease. Her hand clenched his as he speed up his thrusts, lips returning to hers in a messy, moaned filled kiss. All she could hear was the sound of skin against skin and interrupted breathing. - Lee, fuck.

  - I know, baby. - he laughed, returning to kiss her the way he liked as her walls started to clench more forcefully against his member, milking him for all he was worth. His free hand grabbed her hip as he further sped up against her, bruising her skin as his breaths got more raggedy. He bite onto her neck as he felt his control over his own orgasm disappear. 

  - Lee, fuck! - she moaned, almost raising off the bed as her own orgasm washed over her. Her head fell against the pillow, sluggish as he continued to thrust into her until ropes and ropes of cum painted her walls. He chuckled mid grunt, holding her against him as he turned around in bed. 

  - You all fucked up, aren’t ya, sugar? - he kissed the top of her head. - You’re gonna see, sugar. Things are gonna be so much better.

  - Right ... - she cuddled against his chest. - Hm ... Lee can you drive me back home early on?

  - Early shift?

  - Yeah.

  - Okay, sugar.

The morning was a harsh breaker of dreamy hazes and just like that she was back to the place where she always was, in her home, surrounded by the scent of the perfume she had bought just for him. She sat on her dress, taking the necklace he had given her from the little mother of pearl seashell shaped box and holding them against her chest. She loved him, she really did. Some people had their downfalls and hers was painted onto her neck and held by her hands. He was her downfall. 

The sun was high up on the snowy midday in Knockemstiff and once again Lee had been resigned to desk duty after the Sheriff not taking it too lightly he decided to run without his permission. Normally he would’ve been upset but he knew, he knew he was close to winning and then he could throw away those stupid hotels and just get her a little house close to him. God, he couldn’t fucking wait.

    - Captain Bodecker, someone here for you. - his secretary knocked on his door. - Mary Gillies, sir. 

    - Mary Gillies? - he knew her to be a friend of Y/N’s, perhaps her only friend other than that punk Billy. - Send her in.

    - Good afternoon, captain. - she said as she walked into his office. - I’m so sorry to be bothering but Y/N ...

    - Is she alright? - he interrupted her.

    - Yes, well ...  - she rummaged through her bag to find a cushioned envelope with his name on it. - She told me to give you this.

   - What is it?

   - I don’t know, captain. I must get going, my husband is waiting for me.

   - Of course. Thank you, Mrs. Gillies.

He waited for the woman to be out of his office and for the door to be shut for him to open the envelope. The minute he opened the envelope, pearls fell into his desk, the same pearls he had given Y/N followed by a small note in the dusty pink stationary that normally laid on her dresser. Turning it around, he saw the words he’d been dreading to read or hear ever since he met her. I’m sorry, Lee. He threw the letter on his desk before getting up from his desk as fast as he could, ignoring the calls from his colleagues as he got into his cruiser. Damned, Brewer Heights, why couldn’t it be closer?

He approached her home fast and closed the door as fastly as he ran up to the door. Her hag of a grandmother was possibly at church and he had learned where they kept the spare key; behind a violet pot. His heart was beating as fast as a deer on a hunt as he climbed up the stairs and found the once filled room was empty, with only a perfume bottle on her empty dresser. He observed the whole room as if he were in a nightmare, sitting on her bed as he clenched the pearls he had given her not so long ago, the smell of daisies in the air as some song played on the still turned on radio.

You never know dear how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away ...

taglist: @lookiamtrying​ 

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan smut #sheriff lee bodecker #sheriff lee bodecker x reader #sheriff lee bodecker x you #sheriff lee bodecker x y/n #sheriff lee bodecker/reader #sheriff lee bodecker/you #sheriff lee bodecker/y/n #sheriff lee bodecker smut #sheriff lee bodecker imagine #lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x y/n #lee bodecker/reader #lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker imagine #lee bodecker/y/n #lee bodecker/yoou

[yellowocaballero]

Percy Jackson meets a Landlord, a Tax Accountant, and a Tree Growing in Brooklyn

“Golduck, use hydro pump!” Percy whispered. He moved Golduck so he hit Batman on the chest, and then hit Batman a few more times for good measure. “Die, landlord!”

“Aren’t you a little old to be playing with toys?”

Percy almost fell out of his chair. 

He twisted his torso around, looking behind him with wide eyes. But the only person there was a white girl, no older than him. She was wearing a really severe expression to match her tight little blonde ponytail, and she was carrying a clipboard in both hands. There was a piece of string tacked to the clipboard, with a pen tied around one end. She looked like she asked the school librarian if she could help shelve books. 

Percy decided instantly that she hated him, so he decided to hate her back. 

“Aren’t you a little young to be doing your taxes?” Percy sneered. “Buzz off.”

That made her mad. The girl’s angelic little chubby face twisted in rage, and her grip on the clipboard turned threatening. “I’m accounting the chores! And I could do taxes if I wanted!”

“Yeah?” Percy asked, unimpressed. “Name one tax.”

“Sales tax,” the girl said instantly. 

Damn. She got that one.  

Short fic that I am considering extending into a much, much longer fic. Thank you Ami for the translation of the card (I would definitely translate it yourself, it’s important). The entire backstory and premise of the AU isn’t immediately apparent, but if I extend the fic it’ll be more explained (spoiler: Luke Castellan, age 14, said fuck Olympus and moved all of Camp Half-Blood into Brooklyn to live in a child-run utopia). I haven’t reread Percy Jackson since I was 10, I barely remember anything that happens or any of the characters, so don’t expect much - but aren’t the best children’s novels the children’s novels that live in our head, anyway?

Rest under the cut. 

2005

180 Olive Apartments was a dump. Batman said so.

Batman felt very strongly about this, and as a result Percy did too. It was not Percy’s own, private, personal opinion. Batman informed Percy that the apartment complex was shabby, gross, not in Staten island, and smelled weird. Batman made a very convincing argument that they should live in Staten Island instead, which Percy had done his best to relay to Mom. Mom hadn’t been impressed. 

“This is the best place for us, Percy,” Mom had said, with that pinched look on her face. It was the ‘Percy’s Making My Life Really Hard’ face. Percy had been seeing that face a lot lately. “Let’s just try to make this work, please?”

There was no ‘best place’ for them, and Percy and Batman knew that. But that was another thing Mom didn’t want to hear. 

So Percy had suffered in stoic silence as Mom dragged him out of the motel, made him miss the new episode of Pokemon, and forced him to ride the subway forty minutes into smelly Brooklyn so he could sit in this smelly chair outside of some smelly office in a smelly apartment. From inside the office, Percy could hear the faint rise and fall of voices: Mom’s, light and lyrical and very polite to people who were not Percy; and some landlord guy. His voice was really light and high too, but he was probably a real jerk.

Percy was so bored he could die. He sat up on his knees, turning around so he could prop his elbows against the dusty windowsill with grimy frosted glass. He plopped Batman down on the dirty windowsill, smearing his chipped feet through the tracks of dust. Parkour. He unzipped his pocket and grabbed his slightly dusty Golduck rubber toy, putting it in front of Batman. Golduck was from McDonald’s, so it had a bad attitude. 

Percy waggled Batman. You have a bad attitude, Golduck. You can’t live in my house anymore, because you get water all over the tile and you make the wood go bad. 

Golduck jiggled when Percy shook him. It wasn’t Golduck’s fault that the water went everywhere! Water just goes places sometimes. Golduck was a water type, so water followed him around and got into wood and made the wood go bad and made other people mad at him. It’s not Golduck’s fault, so don’t make him move!

I don’t want to hear it, Batman said. I’m going to make you live in a crummy motel and make your Mom go on a lot of boring websites looking for new places to live. The motel’s bananas are going to taste weird. Mom’s going to cry a lot. And it’ll be all your fault because you’re a bad kid. 

“Golduck, use hydro pump!” Percy whispered. He moved Golduck so he hit Batman on the chest, and then hit Batman a few more times for good measure. “Die, landlord!”

“Aren’t you a little old to be playing with toys?”

Percy almost fell out of his chair. 

He twisted his torso around, looking behind him with wide eyes. But the only person there was a white girl, no older than him. She was wearing a really severe expression to match her tight little blonde ponytail, and she was carrying a clipboard in both hands. There was a piece of string tacked to the clipboard, with a pen tied around one end. She looked like she asked the school librarian if she could help shelve books. 

Percy decided instantly that she hated him, so he decided to hate her back. 

“Aren’t you a little young to be doing your taxes?” Percy sneered. “Buzz off.”

That made her mad. The girl’s angelic little chubby face twisted in rage, and her grip on the clipboard turned threatening. “I’m accounting the chores! And I could do taxes if I wanted!”

“Yeah?” Percy asked, unimpressed. “Name one tax.”

“Sales tax,” the girl said instantly. 

Damn. She got that one. Percy just rolled his eyes instead, sitting back down on his seat and stuffing his toys in his cargo pocket. He couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed, even if he knew that he wasn’t too old to play with Batman and Golduck. What did tax accountants know, anyway. 

The girl sniffed, and made a show of inspecting the grimy windowsill and carefully making a note on her clipboard. Her pen had a pom-pom at the end. Percy bet she made hearts over the top of her ‘i’s. 

“Nick’s been slacking,” the girl muttered threateningly. “I’m surrounded by incompetents.”

“Why is it Nick’s job to clean the leasing office?” Percy asked, unimpressed. “Don’t you have a janitor for that?” Was Nick the janitor? If this pinched-face little girl was harassing cleaning staff then Percy was going to file a complaint.

But the girl just looked surprised, as if the idea of having a janitor was foreign and strange. “No janitor would even make it through the doors.” But then her eyes narrowed, as if a thought just occurred to her. “Wait. How did you…”

However Percy did what, he would never know. The door to the leasing office cracked open, and Percy scrambled off his seat in excitement. The girl stood stiffly at attention, clipboard on her hip, as Mom stepped out of the office. She looked very tired, but weirdly relieved.

There was a man right behind her, just as white and blonde as the girl. Percy wasn’t surprised: he could pick out a real ‘daughter-of-the-manager’ type right away. The man didn’t look like every other landlord Percy had ever seen - no moustache, for one - and he didn’t look old enough for the part anyway. He wasn’t old, but he definitely wasn’t an elementary schooler. He had a broad, honest face, but he was too muscular and strong looking and landlordey to be trustworthy. 

 Percy decided the weird landlord, with a mop of yellow hair like golden thread and a scary eyebrow with one long scar cutting straight through, was twenty five years old. Clearly the result of nepotism in the landlord industry.

Mom smiled when she saw Percy, who quickly pasted on his most innocent expression. Her eyes caught on the girl, who was glaring daggers at him. The landlord’s eyes caught on Percy’s own wrinkled nose. “Percy, good! Are you making friends?”

It was not an innocent question. It was a ‘please don’t ruin this for me too, Percy’ question. It was a ‘I’m very tired and I need you not to make things hard’ question. Percy was well acquainted with them. But maybe the girl was too, because when the landlord looked at the girl she also abruptly quailed. “I hope you’re being a good host, Annabeth.”

The unfortunately named Annabeth and Percy glanced at each other in silent and instant understanding. 

“Yeah, Annabeth’s really fun!” Percy said instantly. He was not going to ruin this for Mom again. Or, at least, he would try to hold off ruining it for her as long as possible. Even if this stupid apartment wasn’t in Staten island. “She was telling me about -”

“Taxes!” Annabeth said smoothly, a much better liar than Percy. “And Percy was telling me about Batman.”

They both looked very cute and very low matinence on command, the perfect picture of children who did not make their moms live in motels. 

Percy was rewarded when Mom smiled in relief. She put a hand on Percy’s shoulder, squeezing tightly. “I’m so glad. Percy, this is Mr. Castellan. Why don’t you say hi?”

“Hi Mr. Castellan,” Percy said obediently. “My name’s Percy Jackson, I’m in third grade.”

The landlord smiled at him with closed and tight lips, but it was Annabeth who spoke in interest. “Percy like Percival, King Arthur’s knight who searched for the Holy Grail?”

Uh, whatever? “Percy like the Greek hero Perseus,” Percy said shortly. “But I’m not Greek. My Grandma was from Guadalajara.”

Annabeth’s eyes widened. She glanced at the landlord, whose expression was impossible to read. “Are you sure?”

“I know where my own grandmother is from!”

“She didn’t say that you didn’t, sweetie,” Mom said, and Percy guiltily shut up. “Percy, why don’t you and Mr. Castellan talk in his office for a little while? I have to fill out some paperwork, and I think you two have a lot to talk about.”

Percy looked up at her with wide eyes. Mom never left him alone with strangers. And paperwork already? “Are we moving in today?”

“You two talk for a bit,” Mom said firmly. “I’ll be right back.”

When Percy was pushed into Mr. Castellan’s office it felt more like he was a Roman Christian being tossed into the lion’s den in punishment for heresy. And when Mom settled him into an uncomfortable and weird-smelling chair in front of the teetering desk and kissed him on the temple before leaving the office, he abruptly felt like he had jumped into Grandma’s book of Bible Stories. 

Mr. Landlord’s office was as dirty and run-down as the rest of the complex. The big box AC rattled with clinks and whirrs as it shuddered against the sticky summer heat, and the landlord’s desk was covered in thick stacks of paper and chewed-up pencils. When he sat back down behind the stained wood, the chair seemed just a little too big for him. He sunk strangely in it, the vinyl flaking off and floating into the ground. There were a lot of crayon drawings taped to the wall, and there was a light dusting of crumpled post-it notes on the ground. 

Mr. Landlord tried to smile at Percy. Tried being the operative word: when he smiled it was too thin and without teeth, more pained than reassuring. It didn’t reach his watery blue eyes. 

Percy hunched on the rickety chair. This guy set off every alarm bell he had, which was plenty. And no, it wasn’t just because he was a guy, Ms. Brown. For added security and self defense, Percy casually slid a capped ballpoint pen on the old desk in front of him into his sleeve. Batman was always prepared, and Percy was too. He can hack up any creepy guy and protect Mom any day of the week. 

The landlord smiled wider, even worse. “Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. My name’s Luke Castellan, and I’m the supervisor here. Running into Annabeth first thing’s pretty bad luck, huh?” At Percy’s unimpressed eyebrow, he quickly added, “Annabeth keeps the whole place running, really. She’s...pretty convinced that this complex rests on her eight year old back, so she’s a little stressed out all the time. If she gets frustrated at you, don’t take it personally, okay?”

So she does help shelve books. Percy was a keen judge of character. “Why does she do it? You can’t make her be the superintendent. That’s child labor.”

Luke Castellan stared at Percy unblinkingly. He blinked about as often as a snake, but five times as quickly: as if he didn’t want to let you out of his sight for even a second. Finally, he said, “I’m fifteen.”

Percy gave Mr. Luke the stink-eye, clearly communicating that he did not trust even fifteen year olds (who were high schoolers, and even less trustworthy than adult-adults) as far as he could throw them. Especially fifteen year olds like Luke: who were too tall, with too-mature eyes and a particularly unhappy expression. Percy communicated perfectly that there was nothing trustworthy about this family of juvenile landlords, but he was just too polite to say so. 

But that just made Mr. Luke sigh, as if he was tired instead of angry. “Annabeth’s my...ward, I guess. I just look after her. But she doesn’t like being looked after, so she makes up for it by looking after everyone else. I’m not saying I do a good job.”

He’s a landlord and he has a ward? Percy finally perked up. “So you’re like Batman?”

Mr. Luke stared at him unblinkingly, before finally saying, “Yes, except Batman doesn’t have superpowers.”

Percy had the sense he was being made fun of. “You don’t have super powers,” he accused, crossing his arms. “Nobody has super powers.”

Mr. Luke smiled, wan and weak. “Not even you, Percy?”

Percy froze. 

Five seconds too late, Percy made himself laugh stupidly. People were quick to believe that Percy was stupid, and sometimes Percy helped them think that. It got him out of trouble sometimes - not always, but enough that it was useful. “If I had superpowers, I’d run super fast everywhere just like the Flash!”

But Mr. Luke just hummed, and flipped through some of the papers in a folder in front of him. Percy abruptly began sweating. Mom had given him those papers. They were records. This was like every time a principal had drawn up ‘proof’ against him in a court of law. “Your mom said that you both had to move out of your Queens apartment because it flooded.”

“I didn’t unscrew the taps,” Percy said reflexively. “They just came loose! I didn’t even touch them! I didn’t touch the boiler either!”

“The boiler?” Mr. Luke flipped back a few pages. “Oh, right. Your school.”

Percy slouched in his seat and folded his arms across his chest, stewing. He always sounded guiltiest when he denied it. He should go back to playing dumb. Pretend that he had no idea what water was. He had gotten away with it when he was six during that one birthday party at the aquarium, but something about being a third grader meant that people expected that you have basic observational skills. 

It was stupid. There was no way to win. If he said that he didn’t do it then he sounded guilty. If he tried to point out how it was impossible for him to break the boiler and destroy the gym or whatever, using facts and logic and a rhetorical argument like the Youtube videos taught him, then they just told him he was making excuses. Sometimes Percy had the impression that everybody just wanted him to supervillain cackle like the Joker and brag about how terrible he was. Maybe he’d give that a shot once he entered middle school. It seemed like an evil teenage thing to do. 

Percy Jackson was a liar, a thief, a cheat, a menace, and a bad kid. There was nothing more to be: not for someone like Percy. 

But Mr. Luke didn’t threaten him, or give him ‘one last chance’ or anything. He just leaned forward, hands folded on the desk. His thumb was worrying at a small starburst scar on his hand, betraying a strange nervousness. 

“Percy, can I talk to you man-to-man?”

Percy, who did not like men, squinted at Mr. Luke suspiciously. “Why.”

“Because this isn’t a topic for a kid. It’s a topic that...kills children, and turns them into little adults. I wish I didn’t have to broach it with you. But I think that you haven’t been a kid for a long time, Percy, and I don’t want to insult you by pretending otherwise.” Mr. Luke frowned, and Percy found himself involuntarily straightening. What was he talking about? “You were right. There was no way for you to have flooded your apartment, much less twice. There was no way for you to ruin your gym, or damage that aquarium. Much less...everything else in your file. No kid is that much of a miniature hurricane when he isn’t even trying. It sucks. It’s not your fault. And now your Mom’s credit score is so bad that she can’t afford another apartment. If it wasn’t for the fact that she saw our really generous listing in the paper, she would have had to move you two away from her home.”

She was thinking of moving them both to New Jersey. Percy’s lips tightened, and he knew that Mr. Luke saw it. 

“This is an apartment building that provides shelter to a lot of special cases, just like you. It’s...full of kids who break things when they don’t mean to. Kids with a parent couldn’t handle them, or who couldn’t protect them. We have a lot of ways to keep families like yours safe, and to give you a home.”

Percy stared at Mr. Luke. He seemed deadly serious, as serious as anybody had ever been to Percy, despite the crazy stuff he was saying. Safe? Safe from what?

Safe from those weird, giant dogs that chased Percy and tore off half his jeans? Safe from that old lady in the deli with the slobbering bag and beady eyes? Safe from broken water pipes, from ruined floors and busted walls, from Percy himself? 

Finally, all Percy could think to ask was, “How do you know that I’m a special case?”

“Because not just anyone could see that listing,” Mr. Luke said. “And - uh, no offense - but you are one of the most obviously inhuman children I’ve met in my life.”

Percy’s jaw dropped in complete, unadulterated rage, and without even stopping to think through his actions he withdrew the ballpoint pen from his pocket. He uncapped it, fully intending on doing something dramatically yet harmlessly violent with it, but he didn’t get the chance. 

The ballpoint pen turned into a gleaming bronze and silver sword. Percy screamed. Percy fell out of his chair. Percy did not get the opportunity to look cool and dangerous at all.

****

And now Percy had Greek god stuff to worry about!

Didn’t Percy have enough problems? He couldn’t stay in a school, they couldn’t keep an apartment, their new landlord didn’t blink enough, and now he was the kid of a Greek god? Apparently he had been spending his entire life running from monsters and he just hadn’t noticed? That explained the stupid scary dog!

Percy knew much more about Greek gods than the average kid, since Mom was a huge fan. Yeah, Mom! Apparently you were a big fan! Jesus, Mom!

What’s this dumb stuff about Poseidon! That had freaked out Mr. Luke, and made him ask a lot of questions like ‘are you sure’ and ‘there’s a lot of minor gods who like to pass themself off as someone more impressive to mortals’. Then Annabeth, who had been listening at the door like a sneak and who ran in all heroically when he almost accidentally stabbed Mr. Luke, freaked out and called his mom a liar. His mom!

Then Percy tried to stab her with his new sword. Mom made Percy apologize for trying to stab Annabeth. Mr. Luke made Annabeth apologize for insulting Percy’s mother. Percy was beginning to worry that he and Annabeth may be mortal enemies. 

Mr. Luke had tried explaining a bunch of stuff about monsters and ‘the Sight’ and why Percy’s life was terrible to him, but Percy already knew his life was terrible and he wasn’t interested. Percy ended up furiously swinging his new sword at a tree outside as Mom signed a bunch of forms and talked with Mr. Luke some more, but she hustled him home pretty quickly afterwards. 

Percy didn’t give the sword back. Mr. Luke, wisely, did not ask for it back.

Mom kept on making a face on the subway back to the motel like she had been waiting her entire life for Percy to ask all of these questions, and she was preparing herself for it. She kept on glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, watching Percy kick his feet against the hard plastic seat. It was obvious. But Percy didn’t have anything to say to her. They spent the rest of the day in silence, just focusing on packing up and getting everything ready to move. Jacksons were practical, Mom said. 

Jacksons were practical. Percy was practical, too. It was only in the deep pits of night, as Percy lay in bed holding up his sword and watching it reflect the soft lamplight above the creaky wooden table where Mom was doing work, that he asked. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

The sword was really cool. It was pure bronze, with the middle gleaming pure silver. There was some Greek writing inscribed down the center that Percy had no idea how to read, although he had spent an hour scouring the internet looking for a translation. The handle was tough white cord, stiff and starchy but fraying a little at the edges. 

Mr. Luke said it was named something, but Percy forgot what it was. He had been a bit busy almost impaling the guy. 

Mom’s fingers froze over the keyboard. Her back was turned to him, so he couldn’t see her face, but her spine was stiff and rigid. 

Finally, after a long silence, she said, “I didn’t want you to think that there was anything different about you.”

“So what?” Percy asked, his eyes pricking rebelliously. Stupid water. “You let me think that I was a bad person who ruined your life?”

“Percy, no!” Mom turned around, expression crumpled. The dim light showed the heavy bags under Mom’s eyes in sharp relief. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, baby. None of this is your fault, you understand? That’s what this business with your father means: that none of it was your fault. That’s all it means.”

If that was true, Percy thought, then why couldn’t she have told him before?

But Percy was afraid that if he said that, then he would start crying, and Percy was way too old to cry. Only weak little babies cried. 

“I’m sorry my dad’s a loser who ruined your life, Mom,” Percy said.

“Percy…”

But Percy refused to answer her, putting his sword down next to him and pretending to go to sleep. He kept it next to him in bed all night, gripping its hilt tight, and the firm and cool pressure of the steel in his hand soothed him when the thought of a father didn’t. 

***

They moved in the next day.

The next day! Percy was livid. He barely had any time to pack up his toys into his backpack, and Mom didn’t even have time to help him back up his blue Spider-man suitcase. He had to do it all by himself, and then Mom came in and told him he was folding everything up wrong and that he had to redo it. If she had so many problems with it, she should have helped him and gave him more than one day to move out of their dumb motel! 

When people moved on TV there were always moving vans and buff dudes in baseball caps. But Percy was much better at moving then any of those idiots: all it took was a suitcase (of clothes and toiletries and stuff) and a backpack (of toys and school supplies and stuff). 

Percy’s backpack had the Power Rangers on it, in glossy plastic. Its contents were always the same, through every move: Batman, Golduck, Bulbasaur, Blue Eyes White Dragon, Raphael, a stegosaurus with a missing tail named Hedward, and a little book full of pictures of him and his mom and some cards and stuff. There was a picture of him and Grandma in the apartment in Staten Island that he lived in until he was six, and a 5th birthday card she had given him six months before she died. Written inside, in her looping and faded script, was a sentence Percy had read over and over and over again. ‘Tu angel de la guarda trabaja horas extra por tí. Así que acuérdate de decirle gracias ¿Sí, mi niño?'’

Percy was inclined to agree with her. God should pay his guardian angel overtime. That, or pay one to go to Olympus and collect child support.

The image was funny to Percy - the idea of his angel with her wings and halos showing up at Poseidon’s door and tapping her watch as she held out her hat. It was so funny, it was the first thing he told Mr. Luke when they met him at the gates to the apartment complex. Mom was huffing behind him with her two suitcases, while Percy was busy juggling his own backpack, suitcase, and sword. 

Mr. Luke looked alarmed to see the both of them, although Mom had called ahead and arranged to meet him here. Worse, Annabeth was next to him, still holding a clipboard. She didn’t look alarmed, just mad. 

“Did you bring Riptide onto public transportation?” Annabeth squawked. “You have no sense of discretion!”

Was Riptide the name of the sword? Whatever. Percy would have named it Hurricane. “I know words you don’t know too, you don’t have to brag,” Percy said flatly. 

“Yeah, the gods are filthy little child support evaders,” Mr. Luke said easily, instantly endearing himself to Percy. Mom rolled her eyes as she put her suitcases down, but she was clearly fighting a smile. “Don’t worry, I dragged them to court. Sued them for all they’re worth.”

“How on earth did you do that?” Mom asked, interested. 

“Trickery and rhetoric,” Annabeth said proudly.

“Swords,” Mr. Luke said. 

“What did you squeeze them for?” Percy asked, excited. 

Mr. Luke winked. And he still didn’t ask for his sword back. Maybe he wasn’t all bad. 

The apartment complex itself wasn’t nearly as big as a lot of Brooklyn complexes, looking more like the little apartment complexes in Queens that Percy was used to. It was three separate three-story buildings arranged in a square, with one side holding the small leasing office and a parking lot. It was open-air, with the apartment doors opening directly outside. There was a really big courtyard in the center, and despite himself Percy got a little excited.

It was awesome. There was a huge, sprawling tree right in the center of the courtyard. It was gigantic, bigger than any tree Percy had ever seen in his life. It seemed like it didn’t even belong in New York, like it was a transplant from the California Redwoods or Canada or something. Its leaves were waving in a nonexistent breeze, and something about it just seemed so magical and otherworldly to Percy. 

But that was only half of the awesome things. The other awesome thing was that there were kids everywhere.

The tree provided shade to a couple scattered gangs of kids, sitting around and laughing. There was a rusty set of monkey bars, which some kids were playing on, and there was a big dirt rectangle where other kids were hitting each other on the head with wooden plastic swords. There were groups of girls eating lunch, and a gang of boys playing soccer in the corner that made Percy immediately want to jump in and play too. Percy dominated at soccer. 

“The East and South buildings are where we all live,” Annabeth informed Mom. “The West building is where the training rooms and storage rooms and administrative rooms - that’s my office - and everything is. It also has guest units for the local spirits that like to visit. We just had ten Bacchae stay for a week. They were backpacking to Woodstock. We have very good inter-community relationships here.”

“That’s amazing,” Mom said faintly. Mr. Luke was smiling faintly, eyes fixed on the big tree. Percy found himself staring at Mr. Luke, watching with interest the soft but firm pride in his eyes. “Luke said that this property’s safe from…” 

She glanced at Percy quickly, cutting herself off. But Annabeth just huffed. 

“I almost got eaten by monsters twenty times when I was seven,” Annabeth informed Mom imperiously. “We’re not babies. Connor Stoll says if you’re old enough to get eaten by monsters then you’re old enough to know that they exist.”

Percy decided immediately that he liked Connor Stoll, and maybe even Annabeth too. 

“The tree protects us,” Luke said. “Wherever the tree is, we’re safe. Not even the gods date step foot beyond the leasing office here.”

“Because of the tree?” Mom asked. 

Luke smiled - sharp, piercing, and strange. “Sure, let’s say that.”

But Mom just frowned. She looked over the courtyard of kids - some of whom were already starting to whisper and stare. Annabeth waved at a gaggle of identically blonde children, and for the first time Percy wondered who she was the daughter of. Probably the bossiest god. Maybe Athena. Or, like, Hephaestus. Definitely Hephaestus. 

“You said that there’s nobody over eighteen here,” Mom said to Luke. “Luke, there’s a six year old on those monkey bars.”

“If you’re under thirteen, you live with someone over thirteen,” Luke said to her. Annabeth was still frowning in disapproval at Percy’s sword. He stuck his tongue out at her. “Two people to a unit, we try to pair the oldest with the youngest. Lucy lives with Henrique, he’s seventeen. It’s the best we can do.”

“Surely there has to be someone…?”

“Adults have never helped us. They never will.” Luke looked away sharply. “We’ve been in Brooklyn a year. You’re the first adult who’s made her way here. Most other parents with a kid as powerful as Percy would have -”

He cut himself off sharply, glancing at Percy, and Percy scowled up at him. He thought that Luke was being honest. Maybe he was just another old guy afraid to say what everybody else knew. 

“I’ll help Ms. Jackson settle in,” Annabeth said suddenly. She held out her hands to Percy, who reflexively hugged his luggage to his chest. “You guys are in unit 5. It’s on the bottom floor. If you flood it, then we can fix it okay. Give me your luggage, I’ll put it in your unit.”

Percy stared at her, overwhelmed with that simple signal of care. No threats about if he flooded it, no warnings or sickly sweet faux-concern. Just understanding, and acceptance. 

He silently gave her his bags. 

She seemed surprised when she felt how light they were. Percy shrugged awkwardly at her face, crossing his arms tightly around her chest. “Don’t touch my stuff, okay?”

“Sure,” Annabeth said, before pausing a beat. “We have a TV in our place. #1. Do you want to come over tonight and watch Winx Club?”

“Yeah,” Percy said, overwhelmed. “Sure.”

Mr. Luke put a hand on Percy’s back as Annabeth guided Mom to a corner unit. Percy couldn’t help but notice that the door to the unit was already propped open. Wait - there were people going in and out!

There was a tall, buff teenager, carrying two chairs underneath each arm. There was another group of three teenage girls, carrying a table between them. Two other younger kids were carrying boxes and laughing. They were bringing everything into the unit, and other younger kids were running in and out with cleaning supplies. 

From a distance, Percy saw Mom stop in her tracks. Annabeth tugged at her shirt and got her to bend down, whispering something in her ear. A boy with sandy brown hair ran up, taking Mom’s suitcases from her and bringing them into the unit. 

“Your Mom mentioned that you were missing some furniture,” Mr. Luke said. “The Hermes and Aphrodite kids all pitched in to get your home looking like a home. I hope you’ll like it.”

Percy clutched his sword to his chest, speechless. 

Mr. Luke smiled down at him, that same wan and weak smile, and put a hand on his back. He gently pushed Percy forward, towards the tree. “Come with me for a minute?”

They silently approached the sprawling, ancient tree. As they came closer, Percy could see that its bark was gnarled and knotted, with perfect handholds for climbing and perfect boughs for resting in the summer sun. He could already see a few kids resting in high boughs, taking a nap in the humid and sticky sun. 

“Percy, I’d like to introduce you to someone.” Mr. Luke’s voice was quiet, like he was in church. He looked up at the tree, peering far into the leaves as if he was trying to find something hidden within them. “This is Thalia. Thalia, this is Percy. He’s the newest member of the family. He’s also your cousin.”

Cousin? Percy looked up at Mr. Luke, eyes wide. “I’m related to a tree?”

Tilted up at the tree, Percy couldn’t see Mr. Luke’s expression. Maybe that was on purpose. “Thalia’s a kid, just like us. Daughter of Zeus. I used to think that she was the closest thing to an adult I knew, but...I’m as old as she is, now. I guess one day soon I’ll be older than she ever got to be.” 

Oh. The tree was, like, from the ashes of some dead girl. Awkward. Percy stared at the thick and arching roots of the tree, feeling weird.

“Thalia, please protect Percy. I can already tell that he’s going to grow up to be very strong and brave. Please help us make sure that Percy never has to be strong. That he’s never brave. I can already tell he’s going to need a lot of your help.” He looked down at Percy for the first time, and for the first time Percy could see just a little warmth in those icy blue eyes. “You’re going to have to work overtime for him. So make sure to say thank you, Percy. Okay?”

“Thank you, Thalia,” Percy said obediently. He bowed awkwardly, uncertain what to do. The sword scraped awkwardly against his thigh. “Thanks for letting me into your home.”

“Welcome home, Percy,” Mr. Luke said, and for the first time Percy almost believed it. 

#pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson #annabeth chase #luke castellan #pjo fanfic #percy jackson fanfic #I'm bouncing between a lot of different projects right now and trying to decide which one to dedicate time to #I promise I DID take a break and I will CONTINUE TO DO SO because work's been exhausting #but sometimes that means just writing low-effort self-indulgent stuff #anyway my friend had to sit down and explain the worldbuilding of pjo to me and I was like WOW THATS FUCKED so I wrote this #I also dislike some of the ways that pjo handled percy's backstory so that's being addressed #my writing #I FORGOT THE CUT LOL

[cupcakemolotov]

Road to Ruin

I... have no idea where this came from. But hey, I’ll take almost 2K of story after a drought of words. SFW, character death, probably some angst. You can read it here on A03 if you prefer.

                                                            -

Caroline had missed the Memorial Service.

Finals at NYU had been brutal, her schedule packed and tangled tightly together after a truly unfair back to back testing schedule. She’d wanted nothing more than to climb into her lumpy dorm bed and sleep for a week, but she’d promised Bonnie she’d try to make it.

She hadn’t.

But that was the fault of May storms and erratic flight schedules, not her personal choice. By the time her mom picked her up in Richmond, five hours late and dragging with exhaustion no number of espresso shots could perk up, it was dark and raining. She’d fallen asleep in the car, dragged herself into the house, and had just enough energy to change before diving into her bed for the sleep she’d been missing for what felt like weeks.

Elena was dead.

The news had come five days before finals, and after sobbing her eyes out on her RA’s shoulder, she’d pulled herself together and buried herself in all night study sessions and endless equations. But the knowledge had lingered, that this friend of hers who had grown so distant the last year, more distant than any amount of school schedules and new friends could allow for when Caroline was a devout texter, was gone. She’d cried in the shower, for the girl who she’d once known and would never know again.

Shifting her weight on the damp grass, Caroline studied the freshly dug grave. The last few years before graduation hadn’t been good for their friendship, High School having been a roller coaster of drama and boys that was expected, she supposed. But if only that had been the only drama, she was certain they wouldn't have grown so far away from each other. There had been that weird mass grave that someone had found that had kept her mom busy for months dealing with the locals and the FBI, the weird way the old boarding house had been repaired seemingly to open up only to remain empty. Those strangers who her mom had not liked who had asked questions about a couple of weird gravestones in the museum. That series of petty thefts that had kept her mom even busier than the mass grave and its collection of weird historians and FBI investigations, that had finally culminated in some family heirlooms being stolen from the Lockwoods.

Tyler had bitched for months about it. Weirdly, it had been those complaints that had been the deciding factor that had her breaking up with him. Yeah, the sex had been good, but a girl did not need pillow talk about family heirlooms and how upset his mom had been. Any boyfriend worth their salt (and teenage hormones) should have been far too distracted by her being naked right there, not their moms.

She shuddered a little, thinking about it.

The second half of their junior year had been a mess, and been made worse when Aunt Jenna had died. Caroline’s fingers tightened on the bouquet she was holding, thinking of all the deaths that had accumulated that year. Aunt Jenna. Her Dad. Carol Lockwood. How terrified she had been that her mom would end up next, logical or not.

Then there had been the way Elena had gone all weirdly obsessed with finding her biological parents, the way it had driven her as if it was something outside of herself she couldn't control. Caroline studied the tops of the flowers she held in her hand, wondering if not for the first time if she could have done something different. Been a better friend, helped Elena in some way. Those long weeks that first Christmas when Elena had decided to spend it alone, how she had refused to answer a single text message until she’d shown back up at school, dark circles under eyes like an underfed anemic.

She’d been… different, after that. Less boy crazy and more… mature. And that summer, she’d gone to meet a family claiming to be hers. And when she’d come home, she’d been so happy. Bouncing, sparkling happy. Cousins, she’d said. Brother’s and a sister who said that her mother had been theirs and they’d been looking for her.

Family.

That was what Caroline wanted to remember her. The girl who sat with her for hours after Bill died, both of them quiet, legs tangled on Caroline’s bed. The girl who liked board games and pink lipstick and who had terrible taste in shoes. Her friend. Not the girl from their Senior year who had slowly become something else entirely. Pale and wane, short tempered and then so, so quiet. The girl whose new family moved into Mansion at the edge of town that had been empty for decades, who paid for an expensive car and clothes and who never came to a single game to watch her cheer.

Letting out a slow breath, she set the flowers she’d brought down on the grave and chewed on her lower lip. People usually said things at graves, didn’t they? But she’d never been good at that sort of thing. Not at her Dad’s grave, and not here, standing over the bones of her friend. She’d brought daisy’s because Elena liked them, and she briefly closed her eyes, hoping that Elena knew she was here, that she missed her, and that even if she reached the old age of one hundred, she’d remember the night she and Elena and Bonnie had laughed until they cried over the most ridiculous of conversations, until they’d had to scramble to pretend they’d been sleeping when her mom came home at dawn after her shift.

That would be the Elena she’d take with her.

Swallowing hard, she turned on one heel and jerked to a stop, heart slamming into her throat as she found a man she didn’t recognize lingering far too close to her. He was only a few inches taller than her, but something about the utter stillness of his posture, the way she hadn’t heard him walk up behind her, her usual excellent sense of people taught by her mother and perfected in the subway system having failed to ping at her, left her breathless with surprise. For a moment, Caroline struggled to get her pulse under control before narrowing her eyes. “Excuse you, creepy much? Most people have the decency not to loom in graveyards.”

A sudden hint of a smile played across a distractingly full mouth, and he reached up and pushed his sunglasses up into his rumpled curls, something about the way he was looking at her sending the faintest hint of alarm down her spine. “Spend a lot of time in graveyards?”

“That is none of your business,” Caroline said, letting her voice frost over in disapproval.

“Apologies, love.” He said, body shifting from that hair raising awareness to a soft charm she might have liked if she hadn’t seen him looking at her like she was a particularly interesting bug. “I didn't recall seeing you at the funeral, and I’m sure I would have remembered you.”

Something about him, the way his eyes never left hers, put her back up. She hadn’t spent the last two years in New York City to let some weirdo stranger intimidate her now. “I don’t recognize you at all,” she said primly. “So that means you were fairly new to Elena’s life. Do you make a habit of memorizing faces at funerals? That seems like the sort of thing that would alarm a psychologist.”

The curve of his mouth deepened, and to her despair, he had dimples. “You must be Caroline Forbes. Ms. Bennett was disappointed that you missed the service.”

Caroline shrugged, stubbornly holding his gaze though it was starting to bother her that he didn’t blink. “May storms are a bitch. And neither Bonnie nor Elena mentioned anyone who would match your description.”

He looked intrigued. “Do you usually ask for physical descriptions of their acquaintances?”

“And pictures of their drivers licenses,” she retorted. “So that if they go missing, I know where to direct my mother to find them, but you're definitely not either of their types, and since you think you have some claim on Elena, that must mean you belong to the Mikaelson family. Which one are you?”

She didn't do much to hide what she thought of his family, and it didn’t seem to bother him.

“Smart,” he murmured. “I’m Klaus.” And then he offered her his hand, something like a challenge lingering at the back of his eyes. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Caroline.”

It was a dare. And she was terrible at turning those down, even as her instincts warned her that there was something about this man she wasn’t seeing. But she was also standing twenty feet away from a number of her own dead relatives, and Grandma Forbes would haunt her forever if she was rude to this man in front of her. Baring her teeth in something like a smile, she took his hand. “A pleasure, I’m sure.”

Laughter had lit his eyes a half moment before their skin touched, and something she couldn’t describe rolled down her spine. More sensation than feeling, she felt it down to her feet, and it left her pulse pounding. She pulled her hand back, too quick to be polite, but she didn’t care as she stared at the man who had gone still and so quietly dangerous, she was debating reaching for the pepper stray attached to her keys.

She could probably get it out and in his face before he lunged.

Maybe.

Klaus’ fingers had curled into his palm, as if he too had felt whatever that had been, and the blue of his eyes were doing something strange, and Caroline became intensely aware of everything around them. The buzz of summer insects, the shape of his stupidly plush mouth, the smell of fresh turned dirt. It was the near silent buzz of an incoming text that broke the staring contest between them. Senses hyper-alert, she pulled her phone out of her purse and saw that she had two missed calls from Bonnie. Glancing up from her lashes to find that Klaus hadn’t looked away, so she pasted on her best false smile and shrugged.

“Well, Klaus, I’m sure this is where I should say something polite about seeing you around, but that seems super unlikely,” Caroline said with a false shrug of disappointment. “So, I’ll just say bye instead.”

A lowering of his lashes, something behind his eyes that burned her skin. “Hmm, I suppose we’ll see, won’t we? The family has decided to stick around a bit longer, give ourselves time to mourn. You may be surprised how much you’ll see us.”

Caroline snorted and stepped around him. “History of your family’s willingness to grace the town with your presence says otherwise.” But because her grandma had raised her right, and was probably seriously judging her only granddaughter from the plot just a few feet away, she smiled and waved, just like her pageant days had taught her. And only when she was almost to her car, did she relax enough to look at her text.

And felt her heart drop to her toes.

I don’t think Elena is dead.

Brows tucking tightly together, she went through the motions of unlocking the car door, glancing back towards the man lingering in the graveyard. Klaus hadn't moved, except to slid his hands into his pockets and to turn to watch her. She could still feel the imprint of his fingers against hers, the heat and calluses of him, the shock of him down her spine. For a moment, she tried to remember what Elena had told her about her biological family, the people who went through all the right motions but never showed her friend the care she deserved. The brother’s who had been so considerate, and offered her anything money could buy but not a single ounce of affection. Lifting her chin, she narrowed her eyes, even though she knew he couldn't see her.

Let him think what he wanted. She was fairly certain she’d never see him again. Klaus, who stood in graveyards in pressed slacks and rosaries around his throat. Something was going on there, and the last thing she needed was for him to turn out to be some kind of serial killer.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, she started the engine and set her teeth, only then allowing herself to really absorb what Bonnie had sent her. Not dead? What was Bonnie thinking? And if she was right, why would the Mikaelson’s lie?

Why bury Elena, fake or otherwise, with the ghosts if she wasn’t really dead?

#my fic #klaroline #klaroline fanfiction

[itslieutenanthawkeye]

Beyond the Sea of Pain

Day 3 of Jeankasa Week 2021: Family

AO3

A peaceful life for the girl who longed for love and the boy who gave her it.

Sasha Ackerman had never been one to pry. She carried her mother’s quiet, observant personality, or so her father said. Whenever conversations became for adults only, she excused herself, she never asked too many questions unless it was something that involved her loved ones.

Lately, Sasha had begun asking more questions, simply because most matters revolved around her mother, her mother and the child she carried. At seven years of age, Sasha knew a new baby implied many changes for the family. Both for her parents, and for her. Her whole life, everyone around her had gone to great lengths to make her happy, make her feel loved, and above all, to keep her safe.

All she was surrounded by were protectors: her grandmother who had taught her how to make the omelets her dad liked, uncle Armin and aunt Annie who came to visit the island with hundreds of presents each time, uncle Connie who bought her ice cream and candies whenever he babysat her, and uncle Levi with his perpetual frowns.

This would be the first time she had someone smaller than her, someone to take care of, someone to protect. Her mom had said in conversations she wanted three children, so Sasha had always known that sooner or later she would be the head of a triad of Ackerman children. She would be the eldest sister.

“Sasha, help me, please,” her mother called from the door. She was almost seven months in her pregnancy and still carried out her daily routine as usual. Her father had gotten angry at the beginning, when he caught her carrying things from the market on her own. But her mom was strong, stronger than her father even, and each time she had reassured him with a sweet smile that she could handle herself.

Sasha didn’t want to imagine the level of anxiety in her father during their first pregnancy.

“Where’s dad?” Her mother asked as they laid out the market bags on the kitchen counter. The queen of the island had given her parents a beautiful apartment in the new Shingashina district years ago, for helping bring peace to the world, although her mom always joked that all she and her father had done was work numbers in a library.

“He’s finishing up the baby’s room.” Sasha informed her mother, smiling at the sight of the chocolate biscuits she had bought for her. Her father always said that perhaps names came with traits. And Sasha had certainly inherited her namesake’s appetite.

“Have you helped?” Her mother asked, putting both hands on her waist. “He was up all night setting that crib. Did you paint with him?”

Sasha shook her head. “Dad didn’t let me.”

Her mother sighed. “That man needs to let other people help him.”

“Are you mad at him?” Sasha asked, kind of hoping she was. She had really wanted to help him paint the new baby’s room.

“I don’t think I can get mad at him,” her mother said, smiling as she wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Sasha put her hand on her mother’s belly, drawing in a breath in awe as she felt the baby moving. “The baby know it’s you saying hi. They’re saying hi back to you, you know.”

“Does the baby like me already?”

“The baby loves you, sweetheart.” Her mother replied, placing a kiss on her forehead. Sasha took a hold of her mother’s right arm, her fingers lingering on the ink markings on her wrists, the tattoo that had always been covered by bandages in the pictures from her time in the military.

“Mama, when am I going to get this?” she asked. A crease appeared between her eyebrows then, and for a moment, Sasha feared to have upset her. Her mother crouched to be at her height, with surprising grace despite her advanced pregnancy, and ran her thumb over her cheek.

“My mother gave it to me years ago. She said I had to pass it down to my children,” she said, her hand holding Sasha’s, which still lingered on the ink markings of her skin. “But back then, the world was smaller, honey. We thought this crest was the only thing we had left of our heritage when it wasn’t. There was a whole country beyond the island, and a huge clan with the same emblem and people who shared our blood.”

“That means I can’t get this marking?” Sasha said, feeling a little disappointed. Despite having her mother’s dark hair, she’d inherited her father’s structure; at her age, she was taller than most kids at school, and her eyes were of the same hazel as her father’s. The tattoo would’ve given her another thing in common with her mother, another thing to share that was just theirs.

Her mother seemed to notice the change in her expression, and she cradled her face with one hand. “You can decide to get it or not when you’re older. You’re still going to be my sweet little girl, whether you get it or not,” she said, kissing her cheek. “But I didn’t want to mark you with the emblem, at least not offer it until you became old enough to decide for yourself.”

“I wanted it to remember you,” Sasha replied shyly. “This is how you remember grandma, right?”

Her mother smiled, bringing her closer to embrace her. “You’ll be able to remember me in many, many more ways, Sasha darling,” she said, pulling her apart to face her before she continued speaking. “First of all, your dad and I are going to live for a long, long time. We’re going to take a million pictures, and your dad is going paint a thousand portraits of us. And when those are wrinkled and old, and you’re wrinkled and old, you’re still going to remember our love for you. Because you, dad, the baby, and I are going to live long lives together, okay? We’ll make memories together.”

Sasha nodded, wondering why her mother’s speech had filled her eyes with water. She passed a chubby hand across her face. “I love you, mama,” she said, hugging her again. “I swear, I’ll protect you and dad forever.”

“I love you so much, honey.” Her mother said. Her father always told her she didn’t need to protect them, but it seemed her mother understood her personality a little more in that regard. She understood that drive to protect and remember her loved ones, perhaps because Sasha was much like her.

“Want to go see how dad is doing with the room?” her mother said after a moment, with her usual smile.

Sasha held her mother’s hand as they walked to the baby’s room. The apartment would be small with another child. Their house would be finished in ten months; it had taken a while for his father to convince queen Historia to sell them that land by the river, and a little while longer for them to get all their financing for the house from Hizuru. Her mother had friends there, although Sasha had never met them in person. They would eventually move, Sasha was sure, but in the meantime, dad wanted to make their apartment as child friendly as possible.

“Hello, dad,” her mother said, knocking on the door threshold. They found him finishing up the far wall, the one next to the window. Sasha stared at the paintings on the walls, realizing why her father hadn’t let her help. She would’ve ruined the landscape he’d painted so thoroughly across the walls: it was their summer meadow, the one by the river, the place where they went most weekends to fish and eat and sing. The place that would be their new home in ten months.

Her father turned to look at them with a wide smile on his face. He was tall, taller than most, and had long hair and a stubble on his chin that itched when he kissed her cheeks. “Hello, darling,” her father said, walking up to her mother to give her a kiss on the lips. Then, he gave Sasha a kiss on the forehead. “Hello, little darling.”

And then, her father kissed her mother’s pregnant belly. “Hello, tiny darling.”

Her mother gave him one of those adoring smiles Sasha loved to see. Her mother was beautiful, the most beautiful woman ever, and when she smiled like that, Sasha almost thought she was looking at a doll. It was a look reserved only for dad; it had always seemed her eyes were full of sunlight when looking at him. “Jean, you shouldn’t have done all this.”

“What do you mean?” her dad asked. “Do you not like it.”

“I love it, honey. I absolutely adore it,” she said, grabbing his face to kiss his cheek. “But we’re moving at the end of the year, and you’ve barely slept…”

“You know I like doing this,” her father replied. “Besides, it’s so the baby can get used to the scenery before we get there.”

A low giggle escaped her mother. “Also, Sasha wanted to help you here.”

“She’s a kid, Mika. It was a lot of crouching, a lot of tracing, too much smell of paint,” he said, giving her mother another kiss. He was never shy about showing his love, but the closer she got to the end of the pregnancy, the more did her father kiss her. Sometimes it felt as if he kissed her every second of the day. “I didn’t want her to get all tired.”

“She’s strong, Jean,” her mom replied, smiling still. “She can help you out when I’m not here.”

“I’m sure she’s as strong as her mother,” he said, bending to kiss Sashas’s cheek and then her forehead. “I’m sorry, okay, little darling? I promise you’ll help with the next baby room.”

“Let me have this one first.” Her mom said with a low giggle. “Will you, lover boy?”

“I waited seven years for our second one, didn’t I?” Her father teased.

“Let’s not pretend you haven’t been trying for another one the past seven years, Kirstein.”

“You know I love trying for one, Ackerman.”

Sasha walked over to his set of paints, her eyes on the mixture of colors but her ears on their banter. She liked watching them go about life together; there was such an easy happiness between them, an easy, almost-perfect happiness that could only come from the love they had for each other. A love they poured onto her, a love that filled Sasha with happiness.

Sometimes, when she saw her mother smile at her father, she could barely believe she was the same woman as the one in the pictures from her days in the military. The woman in the pictures was stoic, untouchable, a perfect figure of strength, a statue with the sadness in her eyes as her most defining quality. Her mother, the Mikasa Ackerman Sasha knew, was all smiles, kisses, and kind words; she was low conversations about butterflies, she was warm hugs after a day at school, she was adoring looks for her father when he cooked dinner.

It’s not that her mom didn’t get sad every now and then. Of course, whenever they visited the graveyard where her namesake rested, or when she and her father spoke of the past in hushed whispers in the living room. But still, sadness was not all of her. Her mother had turned into sunlight, that’s the only way Sasha could describe it.

“Why are you frowning, sweetie?” Her father asked.

“You two are being corny again,” Sasha replied. “You’re doing your kissy faces.”

Her mother and father exchanged a look and a smile, and soon her father had lifted her into his arms. “Mikasa, we just made little Sasha jealous,” he said as he twirled her around. It didn’t take long for Sasha to start giggling. “She wants all the kisses to herself!”

“You are too corny! Your beard is itchy!” Sasha laughed. “Mom, help!”

Her mom took her from her father’s arms and gave her a thousand kisses on her cheeks and forehead in the lapse of a second. “All the kisses must be for my sweet little girl,” her mother teased. Her father took her back in his arms, not wanting her to carry Sasha’s full weight so far into the pregnancy. “She deserves them, don’t you think, Jean?”

“Yes, she does,” her dad agreed. “She is the best older sister in all of Paradis. Your little brother already adores you.”

“Or little sister.” Her mother said, giving Sasha another kiss and leaning into her dad to get a peck on the cheek from him.

“Or little sister.” Her dad agreed.

“When do we know?” Sasha asked. “When do we know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

“We need to wait until baby’s born,” her dad explained, using the paint on his thumb to draw a little white star on her cheek. “It won’t take long. We need to be really careful with mommy until the baby’s born, and then some more after.”

“Mommy is top priority,” Sasha agreed, nodding seriously. “Then after the birth, mom and baby will be top priority.”

Her dad chuckled and looked at her mom. “She really does take after you, doesn’t she, Mikasa?”

“I’d say she takes after you,” her mother said, tucking a strand of hair behind Sasha’s ear. “All that concern for my well-being could’ve only come from you.”

“How are we going to name the baby?” Sasha asked then.

“If it’s a girl, we’ve decided it’ll be Carla, right?” Her dad said, and her mother nodded.

“And if it’s a boy?” Sasha asked. Her father exchanged a look with her mother, both at a loss from her question. Sasha figured they hadn’t considered the possibility of having a boy, and the matter of a name for a boy hadn’t come up until now. She shook her head in exasperation; Aunt Annie called them a pair of idiots and although Sasha would never truly consider them a pair of idiots, she could see why she’d granted them that nickname.

“How about dinner?” Her mother said.

“I’ll get to it.” Her father said, kissing her mother again.

Her mother crossed her arms over her chest and let out an exasperated sigh. “Jean, let us help you. Honey, nothing bad will happen to me. I can make dinner for three.”

“I’m sorry,” her father said, frowning, cradling her mother’s face in his hand. “You’re just so pretty. And I can’t believe you’re carrying our child sometimes. I don’t want you to lift a finger, I don’t want to risk you at all, Mikasa.”

“Jean,” her mother said, placing a kiss on his lips. “I love you and I promise I’ll be fine, alright?”

Her dad nodded. “I love you too, Mika.”

“You two are too corny,” Sasha said, jumping from her father’s arms and walking towards the kitchen. “I’ll just eat biscuits while you kiss.”

“Sasha, wait!” Her mother said.

“Young lady, do not fill up before dinner.” Her father called.

Sasha smiled for herself as they followed her into the kitchen. Part of her felt a little bad for interrupting, but if they’d kept being all lovey with each other, dinner would have taken ages. And Sasha cared more about her appetite than letting those two be lovey-dovey. Besides, those biscuits did smell great.

__________________________

It wasn’t until Sasha had gone to bed that Mikasa had the time to sort through the clothes for the new baby. Some had been sent by Levi and Armin, alongside letters promising to visit them after the baby came to help Jean with the house. Some had been made by her own hands; she’d learned knitting from her mother when she was a child, but she hadn’t gotten back to it until she’d met Jean’s mom. All the socks had been knitted by Jean, a fact of which he was proud about.

Mikasa smiled to herself. Of all the things he’d done for her, for them as a family, his biggest pride was that he’d managed to have time to knit a couple dozen pair of baby socks.

“We got a package from Hizuru this morning,” Jean informed her as he walked towards her across the hallway. “Who gives a baby a golden reliquary necklace?”

“Really rich royals.” She said, turning to look at him.

Jean made a disgusted sound as he sat next to her. He leaned his back against the couch and stretched, and Mikasa’s eyes were drawn to the muscles straining against the fabric of his shirt. “Alright, that’s Sasha back asleep.”

“Was it a bad nightmare?”

Jean shook his head. “She keeps dreaming a giant baby’s chasing her.”

Mikasa snorted. “She’s just like you were when she was going to be born.”

“Hey, I wasn’t that nervous. I was just excited.” Jean said, grabbing her gently and bringing her close to his side. Mikasa hugged him, resting her head on his chest for a long moment. She took in a deep breath, enjoying the scent of him, thankful for the constant beat of his heart, for his presence, for his immense love.

Her life had been quiet grief up until the moment they’d returned to the island. She’d never thought she would love anyone ever again as much as she’d loved Eren.

But, apparently, she’d been wrong.

The growth of her love for him had been the thawing of her life, slow but inevitable, leading surely towards what seemed to be an eternal spring. Her constricted heart had gotten used to his presence little by little after his return; in the deep darkness that the rumbling had left her in, Jean had offered his hand to her, and they’d spent peaceful, quiet, love-filled days together.

Their friends had been there for her, but it was his presence, their conversations, their time in silence together, what she came to enjoy the most, what she looked forward to. Soon after, she noticed his appearance, that stirring he caused in her chest. And next thing she knew, Mikasa had been looking at him with the same loving eyes as she’d looked at her first love.

She’d fallen without trying, without expecting to, but she’d fallen irrevocably. And now she couldn’t imagine her life without him, without his kind, gentle presence by her side, always so certain she had the answer to any issue, always so confident in her strength.

The fire, the hatred that had fueled her first love was nonexistent in him; Jean was peace, spring, he was the promise that the world could be rebuilt after being ablaze. And she loved him; she loved all of him, and the fact that he’d given her a child –two, now– had only deepened her love for him. She didn’t regret her past; she didn’t fear the horrible memories, not with him by her side.

“About the name if it’s a boy,” Mikasa said, looking up at him. “I was thinking Marco.”

Jean raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I was thinking Eren.”

Now, it was her turn to raise her eyebrows. Just as he knew how much Eren had meant for her, Mikasa knew how much Marco had meant for him. “But I thought you would’ve wanted to honor him, because of your history together and—”

“I thought the same.” Jean said, brushing her hair back. He liked her hair; on their wedding night, he’d told her about how his crush on her had started, and Mikasa still liked hearing the story every now and then. “I thought you would’ve wanted to have a child with his name.”

“I thought you would’ve wanted to have a child with his name.”

Jean smiled again. “Well, great minds think alike, don’t they?”

“Jean,” Mikasa said seriously. “You’ve done so much for us already. If you were to pick the name, I don’t want you to pick one just because you think that’s what I want.”

“And I don’t want you to think I do all the things I do just to pick a name.”

Mikasa shook her head. “I didn’t mean—”

“I know. Come here.” Jean said. Mikasa finished closing the gap and their lips met. And, like every other time, her chest filled with warmth. She was drawn to him like a magnet was to metal; the comfort his skin offered was unparalleled by anything else she’d ever felt. True, she always teased that he’d been the one to try over and over again for a second child. But, in truth, the one who always seemed to want him on her was Mikasa herself.

“I still think Eren has a good ring to it.” Jean said after a while.

“He’s gonna get teased in school.” Mikasa said, thoughtfully. “What if he travels out of the island, Jean? People out of here don’t like that name. Have you given that idea any thought?”

“Maybe we could call him Aaron or something.”

Mikasa snorted. “You’re silly.”

“And you are gorgeous.” Jean said, kissing the side of her head.

“I still like Marco better for a name.” Mikasa admitted, wrapping both arms around his neck.

“Ah, are you trying to seduce me to get me to agree?” Jean said, placing kisses along her neck, reaching the curve of her ear to whisper hoarsely. “Because it’s going to work wonders, and you know that, Mrs. Ackerman.”

“I’m not,” Mikasa giggled, letting him kiss her neck and chest a little longer. “I just think we need to make up our minds soon. It might be a boy, you know?”

“Why do I feel we won’t make up our minds?” Jean said, his hands searching for the buttons of her shirt.

“I have the same feeling.” Mikasa whispered back, working on the buttons of his shirt as well.

“Well, then, in that case I guess we have only one option.”

“Which is?” Mikasa said, straightening to look at him in the eyes. She enjoyed looking at his hazel eyes; she adored seeing his overflowing love for her in them. Once she’d started to recognize it, she hadn’t been able to keep herself from looking for it.

Jean smiled. “We hope for a girl.”

“Or twins,” Mikasa said as he resumed kissing her lips.

“Or twins.” Jean agreed, kissing her a little more.

“I love you, Jean.” She whispered, going to his ear to kiss him.

“I love you too, Mikasa.”

_______________________

Sasha brought out the tray and smiled proudly at the cookies. They all had perfect shapes, just as she wanted them. The clock on the wall told her she had a couple of hours to decorate and place all the snacks out on the table; her husband said he would be getting everyone from the airport, which was a whole hour and a half away from their small town, and her brother and sister would prepare everything in the garden for the party.

As the eldest sister, she’d always been the one to boss them around, to help them sort out their problems and protect them from whoever tried to bully them. However, the past four years, Marco and Carla (or Charlie, how Sasha liked to call her since her birth, twenty five years ago) had become more than helpful for the little matters she and her husband didn’t notice.

It’s not that they were fools, no. It’s just that they’d been prepared for one child only.

Little footsteps resonated across the hall, and Sasha smiled knowingly as the twins appeared, holding hands as usual, on the threshold of the kitchen. “Sora, Oliver,” she said, wiping her hands on her apron, noticing the mud stains on their legs and faces. She crouched in front of them, using a piece of cloth to wipe the mud off Sora’s face. “Kids, weren’t you going to take a shower?”

“Where’s Jeanbo?” Oliver asked as she went to lean his cheeks.

“Huh?” Sasha replied.

“Jeanbo and Mika,” Sora said, pouting. “They were going to help us choose our clothes.”

Sasha straightened, putting her hands on her waist. “Does grandpa know you call him that?”

“He laughs!” Oliver replied, looking outraged.

“Those two spoil you guys too much,” Sasha replied, shaking her head. “You should be calling them grandma and grandpa. It’s disrespectful to call them by their names.”

“But Mika said it was alright!” Sora said, jumping a little in her spot. “She said it’s cute!”

Of course, her mother thought it was cute. She was the main culprit when it came to spoiling the twins. They were her first grandchildren, and neither of the two had inherited the Ackerman’s serious traits. It was all Jean’s, Sasha’s mother often said…from their cheeky smiles and hazel eyes to their loud, proud voices and talent to become the leaders of any group of children. Perhaps that was why her mother found them so incredibly adorable.

Although, to be fair, Sasha thought, they were incredibly adorable.

“Where are they, mama?” Oliver asked.

“They went out for a walk five minutes ago.” Sasha said, looking out the window. “Mom likes feeling the sun, and dad likes holding her while walking.”

Oliver and Sora exchanged an outraged look with each other, then looked up at her. Sasha couldn’t help but to smile wider at the sight of their childish indignation. “They didn’t wait for us!” they exclaimed at the same time.

“Let them be, kiddos,” Sasha said, taking off her apron. Decorating the cookies would have to wait, maybe she could ask her father for help. He’d always been better with art, after all. “Those two will be with you all afternoon. Let them have their romantic time together, okay?”

Oliver and Sora smiled cheekily, showing her the two dimples on each of their cheeks. That one trait, they’d gotten from Sasha’s husband. She adored seeing that tiny part of him on their faces. “What is it, you two?”

“They’re always having romantic time, mama.” Oliver pointed out.

“That’s because they love each other very much.” Sasha said, walking forward. The two let go of each other’s hands and allowed her to stand between them, to hold their hands and lead them upstairs, where a warm bath waited for each.

“Have they always been like that, mama, all lovey-dovey?” Sora asked.

“As long as I remember, yes,” Sasha replied as they went up.

“Will they be like that forever?” Oliver asked then.

“I’m pretty sure. They’ve still got plenty of years ahead, don’t they?” Sasha said, and her children hummed yes in response, at the same time.

Sasha smiled; she’d grown to know their story gradually, how much they’d lost, all the sorrow, pain, and death, and all the light that had followed afterwards. Her mother and father had taken all the little broken pieces of their souls and created a kaleidoscope that reflected in beautiful rays of light in a myriad of colors upon their family. They’d created happiness out of sorrow, and they deserved so many more years together.

They deserved to live through the happy times, the sad times, to grow old together. They deserved to love each other, love their children, their grandchildren, their friends. The family that had bloomed from disaster and pain.

They deserved to live. They all did.

#jeankasa #jean x mikasa #jean kirschtien #mikasa ackerman #jeanmika #Jeankasa Week 2021 #jeankasaweek2021 #fanfiction #ao3 #fluff #Family #Day 3 #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction

[katsukikitten]

Part 2! Here is Part 1 f you have yet to read it! I hope you enjoy my little Walmart brand of summer wars as much as I am writing it! Let me know what you think!

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The two of you leave with a small bow before your grandmother answers the phone. 

The second you are out of the room Bakugou grabs you roughly by the wrist, pulling you down into the small dimly lit hallway to press you against the dark wooden wall, caging you in much like he did on the train. 

But this time with malintent. Small pops ring out from his forearms, one hand threatening to char the wood beside your head while the other grips your wrist harder. 

You could understand his anger, it's not as if you had been truthful to Bakugou. He detests liars and although you didn't necessarily lie to him you still told him a half truth. He was still figuring out which was worse. 

"Fucking fiance?!" He snarls close to your face, "Deal's off." 

You had planned to allow him to bitch and moan about the shitty situation you put him in without argument. 

But his refusal to act semi decent towards you for the sake of your grandmother's old heart had rage burning hot in your veins. 

It wasn't like you were asking him to fuck you. With a tick in your jaw you drop your precious Kimono. Grabbing onto his chin with your free hand, tilting his face closer to yours to have a better look at those stunning crimson eyes. They widen from both the force of your grip and the proximity of your lips. He swallows thickly, his glare slowly coming back. 

"Listen here Bakugou Katsuki. I'm asking you to pretend to be my fiance for two weeks. I'm asking for small shit like sitting close to me, maybe giving a small smile in my direction and at the most hand holding. I'm not asking you to fucking marry me or fuck me in front of my family. My grandmother is a bit old fashioned if you couldn't tell by the house or her demeanor, she has been hounding me about bringing a man to her for approval since I was 16. She wanted to make sure I had a man that deserved me, that I would be taken care of. So I've made up boyfriend after boyfriend since I've never really had time for more than a good fuck but my Uncle called me last winter to tell me her health was beginning to decline and rapidly at that. I called her immediately and told her I had just become engaged and she'd meet him on her birthday. So you've got two choices Katsuki." You let every syllable of his name soak in sugar coated venom, "Suck it up for two fucking weeks and be semi decent to me or break my grandmother's heart and earn a dangerous enemy." 

Bakugou's heart pounded in his chest the entire time you were ranting, unsure of why he was attracted to the hard set of your eyes and the ice in your voice. His stomach flips when you say his first name causing him to grind his teeth. He breaks away from your grip with his free hand, quickly pinning your arms above your head. Locking your delicate yet deadly wrists in one of his broad hands while the other presses against your hip bone. Thumb sliding through the loop of your too short shorts, bringing your pelvis to his.  The denim was barely able to contain your ass and thick thighs, he is surprised none of your elders have scolded you for such indecency if they were as old fashioned as you say. 

The faint blush on your cheeks and the defiant look in your eyes has his voice turn husky as he speaks.

"I should make you regret bringing me here. Maybe have you begging for something else." His lips a breath away as he presses his forehead to yours. Eyes molten with what you think is lust before he tilts his face. Amplifying the sudden magnetism between your plump lips and his own. Your chest tightens with mixed emotions as your eyes begin to flutter closed.

Suddenly he changes direction and gives you a harsh headbutt, hard enough your vision blurs at the edges causing you to growl in response. 

"This better not fucking bruise." 

He rolls his eyes, dropping your hands as he reaches down for the old Kimino. His heart racing from almost losing control of these odd feelings. 

Feelings that had never been aimed towards you until your grandmother stirred them up. 

"Would you die for my granddaughter?" 

The question drives him mad, mad enough that he places the kimono in your hands speaking the dark thought that he should have fucking kept to himself.

"Did you actually drag me along for your grandmother's sake or did you just want the kimono, Princess?" His voice is all bite, holding your gaze, your eyes widening. 

"Don't call me that." Your voice threatens to crack but he walks away before he can see the rest of your reaction to wander the house for his room until dinner. 

You're left standing there, eyes glued to the fabric, the deep navy blue and hand stitched cranes and lotus blur in your hands. Before fat droplets fall from your eyes. 

Why did you ever think Bakugou Katsuki would be a good partner, fake or not. 

You collect yourself quickly, angrily swiping at your eyes before you set to find your normal room. 

It doesn't take you long and you're honestly hoping Bakugou stays lost until dinner. His room should be on the opposite wing of the house. Opening the old tatami door to find Mei setting down your stuff and Bakugou's bag.  Mei follows your eyes to the well worn backpack with a skull pin on the strap. She knew exactly who it belonged to when she picked it up, having spotted the handsome devil from the hall. 

"Mei what's this you know he's supposed to be in the western wing!" You exclaim, trudging past her to hang your kimono on the old rack in the corner of the room. Mei scoffs, eyes glued to her phone as she speaks. 

"He was bound to sneak this way anyway. I'm doing you a favor." She rolls her eyes as if she knows everything at the ripe age of sixteen. 

You thought you knew everything then too. You sigh, rolling your own eyes. 

"What you call a favor I call a headache. Just take his bag to his room." You pass the straps to her, hating that it smells so much like him. Your stomach flips even as you look at the two person futon. 

"Just sleep with him tonight no one will know! Plus I hadn't cleaned his room. It's full of spider webs, the floor needs patching and his futon is gonna be dusty." She counters. 

"B..but one futon is not modest." 

"Wow please tell me you're not a virgin jushi. You're gonna get married anyway! I know I wouldn't have said no to a catch like that either!" 

Mei makes her way out of your room while you pinch the bridge or your nose. 

"Yea…. Why would I ever say no to such a great catch?" You fall backwards onto the futon hoping that that asshole was still lost for now. 

Someone would find him wandering and take him to the great dining room. 

×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×

Thankfully someone does end up showing Bakugou to the dining room but of course it would be Mei who also tells him where the SHARED room is. You bite your lip and choose to play dumb.  

"Oh good you found your way, babe." You smile sinking next to him on one of the many blue cushions. He grunts in response but pulls your cushion closer to his. Carefully pouring you some water before he yanks down your tank top that was riding up and trying to expose your midriff. His fingers feel like fire as they brush against your skin, igniting a dying ember in your stomach.

You quickly remind yourself of his nasty comment, as you're about to set him straight your cousin Haru walks into the room.  He sucks his teeth and sits further down the table across from his sister Mei as people slowly come in to sit or bring in food. 

"I don't know why you bothered to bring him here. Sobo is never going to approve of him." He cracks open his beer and drinks prematurely earning an eye roll from his sister. Bakugou and yourself both open your mouth to retort when Mei pipes up. Eyes still glued to her phone as her thumbs fly across the illuminated glass. 

"She already did stupid. She gave her the crane Kimono so get used to seeing his face." Mei rolls her eyes as your cheeks blush. 

Bakugou regrets his comment now more than ever but sucks his own teeth. An older gentleman sits to Bakugou's left commenting on the conversation as he does. 

"Wow the crane kimono! You know she's been holding onto that for quite some time. You must be very special. I'm Sozen, your lovely fiance's Uncle." He smiles, just as you're about pinch the blonde to make sure he answers he gives a small bow of his head. 

"Bakugou Katsuki." He introduces himself as aunt Mai rushes into the room.

"Wait, wait! I want to meet him!" She sinks next to your right, all smiles as her eyes are fixated on the young man, "Wow he is as handsome as you said on the phone last night." 

Fresh blush creeps onto your cheeks, remembering the phone conversation from when you were too nervous to sleep last night. Bakugou catches on and smirks in response. Everyone but Sobo takes their seats and you decide now is a good time as ever to get the formalities over with. 

"Let's just get through the introductions shall we?" You say as you run through the names of each family member on both sides of the three low tables shoved together. Introducing the hot head to well over 12 adults and their children and even children's children. For now Bakugou only makes an effort to remember the ones closest to him. 

Uncle Sozen who sits to his left and Aunt Mai who sits to your right. It's becoming quickly apparent that a lot of your family is either much older or much younger than yourself. He can understand why you could feel a little lonely at times. Being more of a black sheep than anything. Then he realises something very important.

"Wait, where are your parents?" He asks lowly to which you shrug. 

"They show up closer to grandma's birthday. They are both extremely busy and always have been. Soba more or less raised me." 

As if one cue grandmother comes in, looking over the table with the biggest and warmest smile she can muster. It reminds him of the summer sun lazily dancing across his skin in the late afternoon. 

And again it reminds him of you. He looks to you and sees you mirroring the exact same smile, happy for your grandmother's happiness causing his chest to tighten and butterflies to awaken in his stomach. He grinds his teeth in an attempt to calm them down. 

She sits at the head of the table, closest to Great Oba who he had the pleasure of meeting first thing, before grandmother holds up her small cup of sake. 

"To family." She announces, everyone lifts what cup they have, whether it was a kids small sippy cup, their o-choko, or even their cup of tea. 

"To family!" They roar back to her all taking a sip. 

"Let's eat." She says while the family cries out, "Itadakimasu!" 

The tables are loud and full of conversation. Although Katuski's family is not so big, the volume reminds him of his own family. A small smirk comes to his lips as he thinks of his mother and how she would fit in here. 

"So no Shoji?" Haru asks with a sneer, almost purposefully stirring the pot. 

"No surprise there." Someone else comments. 

"Shut. Up. Haru." You bite out, look fierce as if you were to devour him whole. He swallows thickly. 

"Great uncle Kodaka tell us about that battle we won here!" You change the subject and everyone groans as Kodaka starts the story they've heard thousands of times before.

"It was almost 150 years ago, when we were still a prosperous nation. Us samarai doing fine on our own. Hired by the wealthy or living by our own moral compass. It was like fish in a barrel…" 

The story continues on, mostly the children listen and your grandmother who smiles as she hears her youngest speak.

Sozen leans closer to Bakugou, as grey eyes hold onto scarlet. Bakugou remains quiet, glancing to you and then back to the uncle. Uncle Sozen takes this as an invitation to speak. 

"I guess since you're gonna be part of the family now I should tell you about Shoji. There was a time shortly before Grandpa died that he went down a dark path, gambling away majority of the family fortune and just when grams thought she had him under control then came Shoji.He was Grandpa's illegitimate child with a woman much younger than Sobo. But she loved Shoji fiercely anyway. She would take him through the field of wildflowers to the lake in the early mornings of summer. One hot day when he was small and the sun was rising, painting the sky in hues of red there was a crane. Our family's crest." Uncle Sozen points to the wooden crest above the door to the adjacent room that held the family's artifacts. A crane stands tall with a white lotus behind it in full bloom.

"It was the first time in decades that a crane had come to the lake and the lotus were in full bloom. He flew away, causing a gentle ripple in the lake and it was then Sobo knew that Shoji would bring fortune to our family." Sozen peeks your way to make sure you're not over hearing, he continues explaining softly as your loud laugh bellows out, "Everyone is so angry with him because he took the last of grandmother's savings and then ran away to America with no way to be contacted." 

"She is quick to defend him because she was too young to really remember how much it upset Sobo. That and she believed in him wholeheartedly. She looked up to him because despite his quirklessness he was exceptionally intelligent. She had faith that he would restore honor and fortune to our name." Sozen's chopsticks point to you as he speaks before he picks up a dumpling. Bakugou's eyes follow over you. 

"Hello Sobo." A deep voice calls from the engawa reducing the lively roar of dinner conversation to nothing more than the sad song of a lonely cricket.

"Uncle Shoji?!" You call excited, standing from your spot at the long table while the rest of the room holds animosity. 

Bakugou downs his sake to which Uncle Sozen silently refills. 

"I thought you were still abroad in the states!" You sink next to him and pull him into a crushing hug. He smiles, slowly separating the two of you. 

"What the hell do you want trash?!" Uncle Kodaka snarls, to which you produce a deadly glare his way.  

"Well yes I was in the states, thank you for asking Princess." He tucks a stay hair behind your ear before rising to speak with grandmother.

He does not address her properly nor does he bow. If anything he stands loosely with an arrogance about him that leaves majority of the room with a sour taste in their mouth. Bakugou watches Great Oba's chopsticks strain in her delicate hand, the distaste for him is becoming more and more obvious by the second.

And then he opens his mouth. 

"I made tenfold out of what you let me borrow, Soba." He pulls a stack of money and a check from his pocket as he speaks, "I made a drug to make people powerless and sold it to the highest bidder." 

Eyes around the room widen as news headlines flash in their heads about a new drug that made people quirkless. Villains shooting innocent bystanders and heroes in hopes of getting a leg up. 

Shoji tosses the money and the check onto grandmother's lap. Dark brown eyes stare into her lap for a long moment. 

Suddenly grandmother moves like an agile cat, jumping to her feet and grabbing for one of the divine naginata. She wields it masterfully before shoving the point towards him, fire burning in her eyes. 

"Mother!" Half the table shouts, as you begin to see red. You stand stepping next to Shoji, body shaking with rage as your heart drums in your ears. 

"I knew my Princess would save me." He says coyly to hide just how shaken he is, sweat dripping down his brow. Even ten years your senior he couldn't hide his fear of the fierce woman before him, shocked that a woman in her nineties could still brandish such a big and heavy weapon. 

Your hands land harshly on Shoji's chest as you give him a shove. Shocking the table into further silence. 

"YOU MADE THAT?!" Your voice echoes over the dining room, into the empty halls and out into the night but somehow the hurt in it does not reach Shoji. 

"Of course, it was going to be a hot seller. Governments offered me billions. Besides I made an anti...." But before he can finish you've got him by the collar. 

"HOW CAN YOU BE SO INTELLIGENT YET SO DAFT?!" Bakugou watches your knuckles turn white while your cheeks flush deep red. Shoji barely frees himself, his shirt crumpled but you press on. 

"Those were my friends!" A stomp of your foot has the dishes rattling on the table, Bakugou becomes more on edge, "You hurt my fucking friends!" 

You raise both of your fists above your head, ready to bring them down with all of your might. Too angry to control your gauge of power uncaring of the consequences. Katuski acts quickly, flicking his wrist to empty the shallow cup of sake high into the air. Igniting it into beautiful dancing fireworks, the kids oo and ah while he hopes to distract you if only for a moment. 

It works, slightly. You realize his plan as he jumps to his feet, running along the low tables as you try to beat him to the punch. 

Literally.

Bakugou barely makes it, shoving Shoji into the table, food and dishes fly into the air just to stain the freshly mopped wooden floors. The hot head holds out his other arm to take the brunt of your force. He let's off the smallest explosion to soften your blow but a small crack still rings out. 

Heated eyes watch as a black bruise blooms from the crease of his elbow to all the way to his wrist as the shock shakes the house behind him. Paintings and pictures fall from the walls in the wake of your force.

"Are you trying to bring down the house dumbass?!" He yells before his voice dips low, soft almost, "What if the roof had caved and Soba-san got hurt?" 

Your eyes widen at his words before they are locked with glistening scarlet pools. You look over Bakugou's toned arm, marred in angry shades of purplish black. Eyes darting over the family and the mess that lies beside you. Finally they fall on your grandmother behind your shoulder. Her own aged shoulders heave from the adrenaline, her graying white hair out of place with her lotus pin threatening to fall out. You spy Shoji, your once hero still squishing food beneath his torso and elbows, eyes filled with fear.

"Fuck this." You mutter storming off, leaving Bakugou to stand alone before your family. Shoji stands, rushing out of the house, moments later everyone can hear a car peeling down the gravel drive losing traction once or twice. 

After a few moments of silence grandmother fixes her hair and returns the naginata as she speaks. 

"This family cleans up their own messes. Now get to work!" 

And with that your family and Bakugou begin to pick up the shattered pieces of dishes, pride and family matters.

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #bnha au #bnha katsuki x reader #bnha katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #katsuki #katsukibakugou #katsuki bakugo imagine #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha katsuki #bakugou x fem reader #bakugo x fem reader #bakugou x you #bakugo x you

[fangirlyah]

✦ pumpkin pie - Edmund Pevensie x Reader

summary: MODERN!AU secondary school starts, and your life is completely different from the pevensies’...would it be possible for them to connect in some point? 

warnings: none

word count: 2k

a/n: present / past

the rain was pouring outside of the apartment on a sunday afternoon. even from your bed you could hear the soft sound of the bonfire in the fireplace burning out and smell the scent of the coffee you did a few minutes ago. 

being in college wasn't easy, not just because of all the work and study you had to do, but also because it meant being apart of your family for a lot of time. you were lucky though, edmund was by your side. 

you met at secondary school and hate each other right away. he was this bad boy wannabe with the perfect life and you were the girl who always wore a smile on her face, even in the darkest times. 

there’s a saying that the adviser and helpful friend was the most hurt one, and in this case it was true. an empty home and a cold meal waited for you every day after school; you were the few people in school who didn't live there, you weren't a pupil because of the fact that you lived only five minutes away from school, so no one walked you to your house or make you company for a few streets. sometimes you thank that, because you knew no one would appear at the door to welcome you home and it embarrassed you a little. 

at the age of eleven, you already had a key to your front door and you knew how to make a meal from scratch, your mother said it would help you in the future, but sometimes you just wished to watch your mom make dinner and help her with it, like all the other kids. but you were mature enough to know that, since your dad left you, your mom had to work double shifts to pay food and expenses. 

a thing you liked to do when you ate at the kitchen counter alone, was to close your eyes and imagine the pevensies sitting beside you. a large table and exquisite food in it, everyone laughing and having a good time.  

being an only child wasn't easy, so when you watched the two brothers and sisters being so close you usually felt jealousy, you were so alone and so scared to admit it. you had friends who never came to your house nor knew your situation. one of your friends was susan pevensie, although she was older, you two had made an incredible bond when a school assembly took place and you two ended up sitting beside one another.  

for someone would be weird to hear that you hated edmund pevensie when you held such an admiration for the closeness of the family. but there was an encounter once that made you burn that feeling in your skin.

it was in the first week of school, you were still a little girl and he hurted you some much and edmund didn't even know. you remembered that it was lunchtime and you sat beside the first person in sight, no one was friends with anyone yet. that morning your mom had put you into a taxi cab and sent you to secondary school like a package, she put the ingredients of a sandwich in a lunch box and you put it together on the way to school. 

if you think very hard, you could still feel the embarrassment you felt when you took your badly done sandwich. 

“who made that foulness?! does your mother doesn't cook for you?” edmund was still a kid when he said that, so he didn't know that not everyone had a mother who cooked fancy meals every day. he was still a kid to notice how much you started hating him after that. in fact it took years for him to find out your dislike. he realized one day you greet peter, susan and lucy but not him; edmund didn't think too much of it, a lot of people didn't find him dearing. 

“christmas eve is in two weeks! this few months passed in a rush” one of your classmates said, she had always been fond of any holiday celebration. 

“what are you guys going to do?” every girl at the table started talking, the only thing that you could hear over all of the crashing voices was that katie was planning on visiting her grandparents at yorkshire. 

“and you, y/n? you didn't say anything” of course susan would notice, you slapped yourself in your thought; it would have been more simple to say some nonsense while everyone was speaking. now the attention was on you and you only had a few minutes to think of a movie scene you had watched, and make it yours. what did blair waldorf do for christmas eve in season three? 

“I think my grandma it's coming..” lie, she was dead “she makes this amazing ginger cookies every year” lie, she sucked at cooking while alive. 

everyone seemed convinced, you weren't an open book so that simple false details of your life left them satisfied. but again, not everyone. susan pevensie had stopped you by the stairs and invited you to her home for christmas eve’s lunch. you accepted right away, saying that your grandma had texted you saying she wasn't coming; you knew she didn't believe but she left you alone, so it was enough. 

when the day came around, you stood in front of a mirror. your sixteen year old  self adorned by a delicate dress, nothing special just an a-line dark purple dress. you opened the clutch bag on your hand and counted the pounds inside, it was enough for the train you just had to resist the urge to buy a snack from the trolley.  

the pevenises’s house was thirty minutes away from yours, so before you stood in front of the principal door, you had time to rehearse what you would say or how you would act. the idea that susan may have told her family about your solitary christmas situation, put you more nervous. you decided to push the thought away, but when you saw her mom open the door with such a pity face, you realized you were right. you knew that the woman didn't do it with any bad intentions but you felt bad when she grabbed the pumpkin pie you had made and watched you with even more sorrow. 

nevertheless, the night was pretty good. better of what you had experienced if you had stayed and ate spaghetti freshly thawed. 

“we are really glad you made it, y/n” peter said while he served more potatoes on his plate.  

“I'm actually the delighted one, this food is really appetizing” lucy smiled beside you, proud that she had helped her mom do all the food. 

“what would have eaten at home? I know you are a great cook!” your friend susan said “she makes the best cinnamon cookies ever!”  

“emm...probably i would have made some pigs in blankets and some brussel sprouts for my mom” it was the first time you talked sincerely with someone about what happened inside of your home. 

“is your mom not such a great cook as you?” mister pevensie asked. 

“she doesn't have the time to, so... i learned how to do it and now I’m better than her” while his family laughed, edmund realized why you hate him so much. it was years ago, but still to that day he wondered why the pretty and nice girl was softhearted to everyone but him. now he knew, edmund had hurt her feelings in first year and it seemed that she didn't forget.  

the classes returned to normal, after the holidays, he tried his best to like you. edmund had tried carrying your books, helping you with chemistry when you struggled and even checking that you are not forgetting anything in the classroom when you went home. you kindly rejected his offers; a part of you still had resentment but the other one told you it was stupid to keep umbrage to something that happedns years ago. 

it wasn't still a friday afternoon, it was raining and you hadn't brought a coat to school. it was the only evening they had free, and edmund decided to ask if you wanted him to walk you home, even if it meant wasting his entire afternoon.

for the first time you accepted. 

the first two streets were a complete silence. in the third you talked. 

“i know i already thank your sister, but...i just...i had a great time at your house before the holidays, so thanks...again” the freckled boy giggled at your adorable shyness, making you smile. you always knew he was a handsome young man, but..since when the school blue hat suited him so well? 

that phrase started what would be a nonstoping conversation until you reached your house. turns out edmund liked your pumpkin pie a lot, and he wanted to ask you if you would do some for him but he didn have the courage; you told him he didn't have to be shy around you, but you were around him. your house wasn't as big as the pevensie’s, but it was big enough for three two people. 

“thank you for coming with me, I know this cost you your free afternoon”  no one was home, as always, so you had no rush for coming inside but you supposed that he wanted to go back already. 

“it’s the least I can do after what I did…” you were facing each other, for the first time ever. 

“we were children, edmund” you tried to pretend you didn't care. 

“i didn't knew anything about you, that was why-” 

“you don't have to pity me” you interrupted him, that's why anyone knew about your mom, because the first thing people did when they found out was to pity. 

“I'm not, I'm admiring you” it was true, he thought he couldn't survive in your place; a scramble egg was science for him, imagine making a whole meal. you smiled at him while he did the same. 

“goodbye, edmund pevensie”  as you walked to your porch you heard him go:

“goodbye, y/n y/l” 

the entire weekend your head concocted thousands of ideas of how to talk to him again, what would you be your excuse? after hours of thinking you got the perfect plan. 

monday morning you entered the school gate with a little paper bag in your hands. you would be lying if you said that your hands didn't start shaking slightly, when you saw him go down the stairs with a sleepy face. he saw you immediately as your gaze was in the thing you were holding. 

“hey edmund” he stepped in front of you, ready to go to the canteen and grab breakfast. 

“hello, y/n” kids passed beside you, but neither of you were popular enough to catch the attention. 

“I...emm, I cooked some pumpkin pie and… I did too much so I decided to bring you some” lie, you did it just for him, you just ate a bite to taste it. he grabbed the package from your hands with a smile. 

“would you eat it with me?” 

“hey honey!” edmund’s head appeared at your bedroom’s door “is there any pumpkin pie in the fridge?” 

“ed, you are going to get sick of it if you keep eating it like a maniac” you left the book, that was in your hands, at your bedside table as you saw him get inside the room and head to you. he laid down gently on you, giving you a kiss. 

“I won’t, I promise” his smell always gets to you, how he smelled so good all the time. you shared an apartment near your collage, and one of its good things was the scent that came out of the bathroom every time he showered. 

“you have been eating the same dessert since we were sixteen, and now we are twenty-one, how did you not get tired of it?” that day had been a long one, full of study and stress. so when the night came and the rain started, the first thing you did was to make a nice dinner for you two. he was finishing his coffee and started starving pumpkin pie.

“that pie started everything between us, I can't get tired of it” he kissed your lips and you let his tongue go into your mouth. how was it possible that you ever hated him?

#edmund pevensie #edmund pevensie x reader #edmund pevensie fanfic #edmund pevensie x y/n #fanfic #fanfiction #one shots #y/n #the cronicles of narnia #prince caspian #modern!au #pevensiees

[missskzbiased]

The Three Lessons (3)

Genre: Angst, Romance, Fluff, Witch! Au, Love Triangle

Pairing: Chan X Fem! Reader X Seungmin

Word Count: ~13,8K

(The First) (The Second) (The Third)

Warnings: (Mild) Mentions of [Death, Burned Witches, food, blood/battling(?)]

Notes:  Finally here! Sorry for the delay but I got blocked, then busy and well! At least, it’s finally here! LOL  

I’d like to hear your thoughts on this. If you guys liked the plot/expected the stuff and things like this! Thank you for reading/rb’ing/commenting/sending asks and stuff! <3

Tagging:  @p2q3r4   @thatrandomoneinthecorner

                                                     ////

CHAPTER 3: The Third Lesson

    It has been four months already.

    The fateful night when you ran away from your home ─ Well, your former home ─ still hovered over your thoughts from time to time, haunting you during your day-to-day life activities as baking the bread you were just making, kneading the dough with much more force than needed. The thick and malleable piece slowly sprawled over the counter as you stopped in your tracks, studying how it relaxed on the surface until it didn’t move anymore ─ Soft and still, just like the limp body of your Grandma on the ground ─, and you felt the urge to cry all over again.

       You missed her.

       You raised your head to stop the tears from falling, looking up and blinking multiple times until the urge to cry morphed into crushing regret that tightened your heart by the second, making you sigh heavily before lowering your gaze to the window. The reflection on the glass showed you a gloomy girl with flour painting her cheeks and forehead in a silly way that couldn’t brighten up your mood even if you forced a smile to plaster on her face, so you settled for lowering your eyes to your hands, resting above the bread.

      The flour painted both of your hands white, and for a split of a second, the dusty white turned into a damp red, covering your hands in blood just like that night, sending a shiver down your spine. You were a murderer. The flickering thought vanished as soon as Seungmin’s paled shocked face struck your memories, reminding you how he trembled as he took your hands on his, studying the dry blood on them filled with horror, certain that you have just killed someone.

      You want me to hide a body?! His voice sounded on your mind, making you chuckle and shake your head in amusement. The amusement had dissolved into heartbreak at the time, and you broke into tears, startling the younger boy who rushed you inside, looking around to check if someone had seen anything before closing the door. That night, Seungmin sat with you on the floor, rubbing your hands and face with a wet cloth until the blood ─ that later he came to know that was from your hunt ─ came off of your body, rocking you to soothe you through your breakdown.

       “Hey, Bunny Bun, how is it going?” You turned around to meet the known face of Seungmin’s father, a fine man that allowed you to stay without a second thought ─ which raised a lot of questions from Seungmin, who seemed fixed to the idea that you had enchanted him somehow ─, and had been treating you like a daughter since then. He approached you, tearing off a small piece from the dough and molding it between his palms, pinching it to form two long ears, just like a rabbit before throwing it for you to catch.

       The joke began when you saw a bun for the first time in your life.

        You had looked at him all filled with curiosity, watching as he kneaded the dough, and he chuckled at your antics, glancing at you once in a while before making a bunny out of nowhere and throwing it in your direction, startling you. The way you hopped, catching the piece and smashing it between your hands unintentionally, made him laugh wholeheartedly, studying your sheepish smile before he patted your shoulder reassuringly.

       It’s too soon for bunnies to hop, don’t you think? He joked, knowing that you were too sleepy and your reflexes were nothing but rusty at the time. You laughed at this, and somehow it became your thing… Just making bunny jokes around in the morning as you baked your bun. It felt like you were family, loved and cared for, and truly accepted… Just like the lesson predicted… You were right to stick to your kind.

      “I’m almost done, Mr.Kim!” You said with a small smile, trying to cover up your sadness “We will have some delicious bread for the customers” You promised, resuming your previous actions, starting to tear off the pieces to mold them.

     “I wish Seungmin was an early bird like you” He confessed, chuckling as he stood beside you to help you out with your baking “I’m glad you’re here… You’re very welcome to this family, I hope you know that” He glanced at you, clearing his throat “And… How is it going? Are you both getting along well?” He asked awkwardly, and this time you chuckled, looking at him by the corner of your eyes.

     “We’re just fine, Sir” You guaranteed “We’re acting like cousins just like you instructed and we’ve been getting along pretty well… For about four months already” You smiled, mocking him about his concerns. He smiled back, nodding in understanding and sighing in relief, seeming satisfied by your answer as he molded the loaves of bread far more quickly than you, more used to it, with no concrete pattern, just a bunch of animal-shaped stuff that followed no rules.

    The only rule on the house was not to be romantically involved.

    You could remember your first day at the bakery ─ shaky hands and stiffened body giving away how nervous you were ─ and how you darted your eyes at every customer that came in, alarmed that someone could simply recognize that you were raised by a witch. Silly thought. Seungmin ─ as the sweetest human being on Earth ─ noticed how you were about to combust at any moment and simply stuck together with you, helping you out in absolutely every single thing you did until you got more comfortable.

     It didn’t go unnoticed.

    The moment the old lady ─ a faithful client who you treated by Miss ─ came into the place, she looked at you filled with interest, eyes studying you from head to toe before smiling approvingly. She rested a small box on the counter, tilting her head as she looked into your eyes, before looking at Seungmin with a suggestive look. She braced herself on the counter, looking at Mr.Kim excitedly and gesturing for him to get closer before finally speaking up.

   So little Seungmin finally got a fiancé? I never saw you around! She chuckled, taking your hand between hers. It’s a pleasure to meet you! I’m their best customer and also their lucky charm! She joked, patting the back of your hand. You threw her a desperate smile, darting your eyes between her and Mr.Kim before opening your mouth, ready to agree with her to get out of the situation.

    Oh, no! She’s his cousin! He hurried to say as soon as he recovered from his shock. My brother got really ill and… Well, we thought it would be better for her to come live with me instead of staying in her village… He lied, lowering his eyes to fake sadness, though the uncomfortableness was true.

    Oh! I didn’t know you have a brother! She hid her open mouth with her hands, eyes wide as she looked at you surprised before pity took over her. I’m so sorry, Sweetheart… If I knew I would have sent him some of these too... She shook the box in the air, and you could tell something hard was inside it.

    The woman opened the box to reveal two small bottles filled with a flower ─ that you identified as rosemary ─, some thin things that looked like pins and needles and a dark liquid that looked a lot like blood. You frowned, utterly confused by the utility of such a gross thing, yelping as the woman randomly tugged some strands of Seungmin and his father’s hair, tossing it inside each bottle ─ that opened smelled heavily like alcohol mixed with some kind of grape juice ─ before closing them and handing it to each one of them.

    She laughed at your baffled expression, hitting your shoulder lightly as she threw her head back, delighted by you. She got her hands on her hips before tilting her head and looking at you playfully, smiling kindly as she explained that it was a witch-bottle. You frowned again, looking at them cautiously to check if you should know what it was about, and the lady was quick to explain that it was a kind of protection that her family had been doing for ages and having incredible results regarding safety.

    Your uncle is too unlucky, poor thing… To be married to a witch and being cursed to be alone for the rest of his life… She sighed, looking at him filled with pity. At least I can do something about it, right? It’s a pleasure to keep you safe from those monsters! I should make one for you too, Sweetheart! Next month, I will bring it for the three of you!

   You shook your head to get out of your thoughts ─ brushing your hair with your fingers as you reminded how the woman had no mercy to take off those strands from your scalp ─, noticing how Mr.Kim arched his brows in a silent question, chuckling as you shrank as if you had been caught red-handed. You placed the molded pieces on the paddle, pretending you didn’t notice his look, and placing it inside the oven for them to bake.

    The fire painted their surface in an orangish light, and you stood there staring at them, drowning in the knowledge that you would never tell him that you were a witch, just like the one who destroyed his life. He placed his hand on your shoulder, smiling at you and looking proudly at the buns, humming in approval for your teamwork, and you forced a smile back at him before returning your gaze to the fire.

   Maybe one day he’d wish for you to be just like those bunny buns.

                                                                  /////

    You felt small and lost.

    You could recognize the oval square even if you had your eyes closed, having dreamed of it every single day of your life ─ the place where the nameless woman was burned to death ─ but this time there was no stake to be seen and no witch to be burned. The crowded place was bright and noisy; the lively music being played was mixing with the villagers’ chatting and sellers’ yelling, morphing into a loud buzz that bewildered you.

    The swinging pieces of meat hung on the hooks, the fresh smell of fruits and vegetables filling your nostrils, and all other kinds of things to be sold left no doubt: The market was being held.

   You held someone’s hand as you walked, head swiveling to take in everything that was happening around you, feeling overwhelmed as people bumped into you and the mass of fluttering fabrics passed in front of your eyes, darkening the bright place for a while. The feeling didn’t last much, though. The person guiding you finally stopped on a booth, bringing back the brightness and the peace you craved, before letting go of your hand to look for something.

   You lifted your head, fondness spreading in your heart as you looked at them.

   Faceless.

  You didn’t seem to mind it in the dream, catching a citric scent in the air that distracted you, prompting you to look at the booth and extend your hand to pick up the round orange right in front of your eyes. You tried to grab it once, fingers slipping on its peel, and then you used both hands, holding it like if it was your whole world for a few seconds before giggling happily.

  That must be the biggest orange in the world because it didn’t even fit in your hands.

    You played with it a little bit, ignoring the voices above your head and focusing solely on how the texture felt on your palms, groping it and spinning it over and over again as if it would give you some kind of answer. The voices began to sound clearer on the back of your head, sounding upset and assertive, both the seller and your guide quarreling about something you couldn’t understand. The seller snapped, and you caught something like frustration and jealousy in the air before he slammed the surface with anger.

    You got startled, yelping and jumping as you snapped your eyes at the man.

      Then everything happened too fast.

      First, you felt the orange off your palms, floating slightly above them, and you widened your eyes, very aware that it was an unforgivable mistake. Second, the guide’s hand snapped to the fruit, grabbing it in a flustered manner. Third, the man pointed at them, filled with rage and despise.

     Then he roared.

     “She’s a witch!” He accused, and the orange fell to the ground, rolling away “She first seduced the baker, and now this?!” You didn’t know what he meant by this, and neither did the men who came to restrain her out of nowhere, tugging her arms back as she struggled to get away from their grip.

     “He’s lying! It’s a lie!” She yelled in despair, trying to swing her limbs but being brutally held back “I’m not a witch!” She howled, and even if you couldn’t see the tears streaming down her face, you could hear it in her soul. The crowd gasped and cleared the way, terrified and curious, gathering around them to watch the woman being lifted off of the ground; legs kicking and jerking to hit whoever tried to handle her.

   “Take off her boots!” Someone screamed, and the man held her neck, choking her to take her under his control.

   You moved, trying to go closer to her, but someone held your arm firmly ─ though you could feel their hand was trembling in fear ─, and the next thing you know was that her legs were being held tight. They yanked her boots, exposing her bare feet, raising her sole for everyone to see.

   That was the first time you could actually see something in your dreams.

   Crooked whitish scars carved on her feet like high-relief waves.

   She was a witch.

   You felt your blood run cold; the grip on your arm disappeared and you snapped your eyes to the woman, feeling pity wash over you as you realized what was happening. You were seeing how the faceless woman was condemned as a witch, fated to burn to the ground… She looked right into your eyes, the fog that prevented you to see her face wavered in the air, dissolving suddenly and prompting everyone to gasp in shock.

    This was the first time you could see her face.

     Your face.

    You shot your eyes open, gasping for air, realizing someone was hovering over you ─ a blurry face right in front of yours, indistinguishable on your drowsy state ─ and before you could focus your eyes on them, their hands grabbed your shoulders firmly, startling you. They squeezed your shoulders, and you jolted your limbs, waggling them around to guarantee your freedom as you felt the grip tightening around you, their arms shaking your body.

    “No, please!” You bawled, struggling to get away from their hands “Seungmin! Mr.Kim! Help! Help!” You shouted, desperate as you finally got rid of their hands, jolting out of the bed to head to the window, ready to jump out of it and run away. You fumbled to open it, and the person rushed at you, taking you by the waist and pulling you back forcefully.

    “Wait!” Seungmin pleaded, strangled voice sounding in the air like a squeak “What are you doing?! It’s me!” His voice sounded right beside your ears, and for the first time, you tried to really look at him, glancing over your shoulder to meet his eyes right in front of yours. You sighed in relief ─ fear vanishing to give way to tiredness ─ and your relaxed expression morphed into an exasperated one before you hit his chest angrily.

    “What the hell, Seungmin?” You asked upset, uncovering your eyes to shoot him a glare “Who wakes someone up like a bloody ghost haunting the house, you son of a—“ He laughed, hands on his hips as he tilted his head, eyes glinting in mockery.

    “Oh, Seungmin! Help! Help!” He chanted, chuckling as you blushed, looking away in embarrassment “And now you call me names? Spare me!” He smirked, letting you go to sit on your bed before pinching his chin “Did you have a nightmare?” He asked curiously, eyes less playful and more concerned now.

    “What tipped you off?” You teased, walking towards your bed to sit beside him “To tell you the truth, the dream changed…” You muttered, unsure about what to say. It was just a dream, right? Should you bother him with it? You darted your eyes to him before settling them straight ahead “I saw the woman’s face… She was me” You glanced at him, insecure, and he snapped his eyes at you, clearly disturbed by what you had just said.

     “Oh” He bit his lip before lowering his eyes to his hands, intertwined on his lap “I had a dream too and… Well, I saw you at the stake” He glanced at you, and you felt as if the entire world had just stopped. You stared at him, completely expressionless as the shock drenched your mind “But— I mean! You know that my dreams aren’t always clear, right? It can mean literally anything!” He tried to reassure you, and you blinked at him.

    “What else could it mean? You saw me burning at the stake, Seungmin” You stated calmly, though your insides were twisting “My dreams aren’t usually this clear… Someone will accuse me at the market place and I’ll be burned” You stared at him blankly; your features unmatching to the thousand thoughts that ran wild inside your head or the tight knot forming in your throat, making you unable to say anything else.

    An odd feeling of acceptance tried to spread through your body.

    You were going to die.

     That was it.

    “You’re not going to die” He assured you, squeezing your hand in an attempt to soothe you, though his trembling hinted that he wasn’t much better himself “I mean… I had already tons of dreams that didn’t happen for real! It’s just a coincidence… Absolutely no one suspects you right now, not even dad! There is no way—“ You sighed, patting his hand on your lap, looking at him as if you had been already defeated.

    “There is nothing we can do about it” You shrugged “I had this dream every single day of my life, Seungmin… Deep down I knew what was bound to happen” You offered him a small smile, squeezing his hand back “Also, the third lesson is clear as the day… Do not bond with humans, their feelings are flickering as flames and will burn you to the ground” You recited, glancing at him “It’s your fault for loving me, you know?” You joked, and he pushed you lightly.

     “It’s not the time to be funny” He rolled his eyes “Especially when you’re not funny at all” He pointed out, chuckling when you slapped his shoulder playfully “That lesson doesn’t make any sense anyway, our feelings for you are deep and we won’t let you die” He promised, and this time you offered him a real smile, resting your head on his shoulder “You’re part of this family now and I don’t care whatever your grandma taught you before, we’re going to make through this” He rested his head on top of yours, remaining silent for a few minutes.

   The silence was reassuring, and you closed your eyes, breathing deeply.

    “Do you want to stay home today? I can go to the market by myself” He suggested, lifting his head to look at you, and you mimicked him, shaking your head.

    “It’s better to act as usual” You denied “Whatever has to happen will happen, so staying home will not help me at all” He nodded, looking through the window, and you followed his gaze “Will you stay by my side when it happens?” You asked quietly, and he pursed his lips, eyes darkening as he lowered his head.

    “If it happens” He corrected you sternly, and you nodded, holding his gaze in expectation “I won’t let it happen” He stated, averting his eyes and getting up from his bed “Some dreams are just dreams” He guaranteed, faking a smile at you, which you returned with an understanding nod and tight lips.

      Seungmin’s dreams weren’t just dreams.

      Those four months were more than enough for you to know that Seungmin wasn’t a mere human… You didn’t know if he had a witch ancestry, if Nature just seemed to have a liking to him or if the spirit of his deceased mother spoke to him while he slept, but Seungmin had a gift.

      He had premonitory dreams.

      The day he drank from the river was the first time he actually acted on those dreams, intrigued by a woman ─ that not so coincidentally looked just like you ─ calling him to the woods, tracing a path that headed to a precarious village. You were smart enough to assume that it was The Haven, and he was being guided to meet The Coven ─ more specifically you ─ but got lost in the woods, tricked by its enchantments. The dream didn’t show him any rivers but as soon as he found it, all lost and tired, he drank from it and the rest… Well, he was lucky you were around.

    Actually, you were meant to be around.

    Meant to be in each other’s life.

    “Now let’s go! Get your ass out of the bed and let’s shop! Your birthday is coming and I have to buy you a gift, right?” He said in a feigned cheerful tone, interrupting your thoughts, and you nodded, getting up from the bed and picking up your coat ─ Chan’s coat ─ to throw around your own shoulders “Hm… This is kinda old, right?” He asked unsurely, eyeing the coat warily.

     “Well, it’s the only one I have” You chuckled “Also, I know you just don’t like it because it belonged to Chan” You rolled your eyes, arms going through the sleeves to keep you warm. You held each front of your coat, wrapping them tightly around you, drowning in the warmth and the faint smell that reminded you of home ─ former home ─, studying carefully the worn-out brown filled with fondness.

    “He was ready to kill me” He pointed out matter-of-factly, brows raised to make his point “I think I have more than enough of a reason to hold a grudge against him” You laughed wholeheartedly, nodding in agreement “But that’s not the point! The winter is coming and you need to keep warm” You opened your mouth before closing it, holding back a joke about your cruel fate “This coat won’t be enough for you… Maybe I should buy you a new one?” He mused, and you shrugged.

    “I don’t see the point if I have this one” You admitted, and he rolled his eyes, heading to the door to open it and turning back to stare at you unimpressed. The cold weather seemed to freeze your face for a second, making you sneeze and shake your head vehemently to push away the feeling before scrunching your nose repeatedly, looking at Seungmin.

    “See? You’re weak to the winter” He chuckled, throwing his arm around your shoulders playfully, closing the door behind him to head to the oval square. The motion reminded you of how your Grandma used to wrap you in her arms before guiding you into the woods, teasing you about a certain warlock. You sighed, remembering how he just shrugged off that you gave away the very same coat you were wearing right now, even if he had it since he was a child… How he asked you on a date to that very same market you were wandering around.

     “So it’s settled! We’ll buy some fruits for your cake and then we’ll buy your coat” He decided, pleased with his plans, and once more getting you away from your thoughts. You walked side by side, heading to the booth you always bought your stuff from, studying the surroundings to see if you could spot better prices.

     You didn’t.

   But you spotted Caeli.

   That wasn’t the first time that you spotted Caeli on the streets. The Elder had been coming by herself every month ─ probably to buy some groceries to The Coven ─, and each time you followed her with your eyes, wondering why your grandma wasn’t with her. You should know why. You killed her. You lowered your gaze, quickening your pace to be followed by a confused Seungmin, looking around to spot whatever made you like this.

    “Did you see someone from your dream?” He whispered worried, and you shook your head, bumping into someone in your eagerness to reach for the booth “Oh, sorry! We didn’t pay atten—“ Seungmin stopped on his tracks, his apologetic expression morphing into a frown. You raised your head to apologize, and as soon as your eyes met you felt your head spinning. The air seemed to vanish from your lungs, heart bursting inside your chest and lips drying as you widened your eyes, flabbergasted.

     How long! How have you been?

     I’m sorry…

     I miss you.

     “Hi…” You said instead, awkwardly looking at him in a lack for better words “Chan” You added, hugging yourself as you averted your eyes from him, biting your lips. You felt Seungmin’s hold getting tighter, pulling you closer to him as he straightened his back to look somewhat threatening. You peeked at him, confused, before returning your gaze to Chan, who didn’t even spare him a glance, eyes fixed on you for the entire time.

     “Hey” He muttered, holding your gaze for a few seconds before averting his eyes ─ the tension too uncomfortable do bear ─, staring at Seungmin’s hand on your shoulder “You’re using my coat” He mentioned bluntly, unsure about what to say, and you nodded, looking away “The winter… Yeah” He trailed off, cringing at himself.

    Seungmin scoffed before suddenly reaching for your coat, trying to take it off, and you looked at him filled with confusion but complied anyway, extending your arms to help him out. The boy crumpled the coat to form a ball of fabric before pushing it on Chan’s hand, a serious expression on his face as his penetrating gaze fixed on Chan’s eyes in a silent warning. Chan took the coat, bewildered, looking at him questioningly before Seungmin gave him a tight smile.

    “I’m going to buy a new one for her” He announced, waiting for his answer but Chan just stared at him, hands clutching the piece, and jaw clenching before he forced his lips to quirk on an odd smile “You can have it back… Thank you for your coat” Seungmin sounded upset for some reason, and you frowned, feeling lost about what made him act like that.

    “Great” Chan hugged his coat; glancing at you with hurt written all over his face “I’m glad you guys are getting along just fine” He lied, lips quivering to maintain his fake smile “I…” He closed his mouth, looking at you filled with something you couldn’t put your finger on, eyes wavering before he looked away “We miss you” He concluded, clearing his throat before lifting his head.

    I miss you too.

    “It’s already done” You said sympathetically “I’m home now… And you guys are too” You forced a smile, and he nodded, resentful eyes focusing on you “I’m sorry for…” You gulped down, eyes darting away before returning to him “I’m sorry” You trailed off, and he nodded once more, lowering his head again, unable to look at you.

    “Well… I wish you the best” He finally said, refusing to fix his gaze on you, eyes wandering somewhere above your shoulder “I hope you can be happy here… And maybe we can bump into each other again” He chuckled, though it sounded more like a cough, and Seungmin grabbed your shoulder, rolling his eyes as he locked his gaze with Chan.

    “All the three of us know you’re lying” Seungmin pointed out boldly, surprising both of you “Don’t give her false hopes if you won’t act on your words…” He scoffed, looking away as he poked his cheek “You could have done something! You’re just a coward that would let her –“ You grabbed Seungmin’s wrist, throwing him a look so he would stop talking, and he bit his lip, looking at you distressed.

   The silence fell heavy upon you.

   The three of you glanced at each other, unsure about what to do now. Seungmin crossed his arms, clenching his jaw before uncrossing his arms and clenching his fists on each side of his body, nose scrunching slightly as he looked at Chan. You darted your eyes between them, tightening your grip around his wrist and clutching his sleeve with your free hand, concern written all over your face. Chan twisted his lips down, focusing on your hands on Seungmin’s arm for a second before he averted his eyes, furrowing his brows in a pained expression, upper lip trembling slightly.

     “Chan! I think I found something interesting!” Caeli called, and the three of you snapped your heads at her, the tension shattering for a moment “Oh…” She blurted, looking at you, but before she could say anything else Chan strode her way without looking back. He placed his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly before he walked straight ahead, and she held your gaze for a few seconds, conflicted, before giving up and following him.

     “What was that all about?” You asked upset, releasing Seungmin from your grip in a rough motion, eyes aimed at him accusatorily. He kept his eyes on the path they traced, frowning, before he finally turned them to you, grimacing unsatisfied as he looked into your eyes seeming bitter about it all.

     “He’s a coward” He spat angrily “He doesn’t deserve you” He added, locking his arm with yours so you could continue your shopping “All of them… They could have done something” He sighed “They just chose to do nothing” He said, looking at you resentfully, eyes holding so much sadness that it just clicked.

     They would just watch as you burned.

                                                                       /////

      At first, you thought you were hearing voices.

      You shoved your hands into your new coat’s pockets, nodding as Seungmin kept blabbering about how he helped his father to bake your birthday cake, feeling all proud because it turned out to be pretty tasty and he was sure you would love it. You laughed wholeheartedly, congratulating him for finally being able to wake up before you, excitedly guessing what Mr.Kim would be fixing for lunch as you made your way back home. The conversation flowed well enough until you heard your grandma’s voice resounding inside your head, prompting you to look around the place, confused with the situation.

      Maybe you were just hearing things.

      Eighteen years, put some sense into your head! You shot your eyes up, alarmed, head snapping at Seungmin to search for any signs that he heard it too but he kept guessing the dishes, completely oblivious to the voice. It’s not the time to play house! It’s dangerous! She yelled, clearly upset, and you stopped in your tracks, head swiveling to see if you could spot her in the crowd but she was nowhere to be seen.

     Of course, she wasn’t… She was dead.

     “… Or maybe he bought those potatoes to –“ He interrupted his train of thoughts abruptly, glancing at you, noticing that you seemed too far away from your conversation right now “Everything okay? You look like a ghost” He pointed out, nudging you so you would look at him and voice your concerns.

     They will burn her at the stake! You winced under the intensity of her tone, ducking your head into your shoulders as you looked slowly to left and then to right, getting a look from Seungmin, who seemed to think that you had lost your last straw of sanity.

     “Did you hear it?” You whispered, and he looked at you as if you had grown a third head “It’s… Her voice” You muttered, grabbing his shoulder to get some support, feeling your legs going weak “I think Wiha is alive… And I think she’s here” You felt a lump in your throat, obliging you to force the words to come out as you felt the world spinning around.

      You stumbled over your feet but Seungmin quickly adjusted himself to catch you by the waist, hand darting to cup your cheek as he tried to catch your gaze, searching for some sign that you were still here with him. You opened and closed your mouth a bunch of times ─ a string of voice coming out from you but no sentences being said ─, worrying him by the second and prompting him to shake you lightly to get you out from your stupor.

     “She’s dead” He assured you, patting your face continuously to get your attention “It must have something to do with your memories… You said yourself that your birthday could worsen it” He reminded you, tone careful and eyes attentive on your figure. You nodded, finally focusing your gaze on him, the dryness on your throat still making you unable to answer him.

     She’s gonna die just like her! Is that what you want, son?! She yelled on your head, and this time dizziness wasn’t the only thing you felt. The feelings boiling inside your chest didn’t have a name or a form in your head; it was only a mix of sensations that fogged your mind and spun your stomach, prompting you to clench your fists and your jaw as you felt the resentment burning into your body before dissolving into anger.

     Don’t you dare to blame me! It was your fault for being a coward! You widened your eyes as Mr.Kim’s voice sounded inside your head; snapping your eyes to Seungmin and slapping his chest lightly a bunch of times to get his attention, making him whine and try to get away from you.

   “She’s with your father” You stated, gasping as you looked at him flabbergasted before sprinting. He couldn’t even react as you ran for dear life, leaving the startled boy behind for a few moments before he mimicked you, running the best he could. You ran as if your life depended on it ─ lungs burning and muscles screaming for some mercy as you forced yourself not to cry, putting a lot more effort into your sprint than necessary ─, without even noticing how the wind startled to whistle around you.

      The gale built up quickly ─ just like the turmoil inside you ─, and suddenly things around you startled to twirl in the air as your hair whipped your face vigorously, and the torrent of thoughts stormed inside your head. There were so many questions you had to make! So many things you had to know! You couldn’t believe she was alive! She had been alive for four months while you thought you were some kind of murderer!

      How was she?!

     Why didn’t she contact you earlier?!

     Why wasn’t she contacting you now?

     Why was she yelling at your host instead of looking for you…?

      Four months… Four months to tell you that you weren’t a murderer… Four months and none of them told you anything. They just kept you in the dark like… Like you weren’t one of them anymore. Well, you kinda got yourself into it. That was what you asked for after all… You didn’t think you belonged there anymore and, clearly, they didn’t think it either.

       So why was she here?

       I wasn’t being a coward! I was protecting The Coven! I was protecting my family! She sounded distressed, voice overflowing with anger and frustration as she roared each sentence as if she had said it a million times already ─ maybe to convince herself or maybe to convince someone else ─ and still couldn’t get it across. You kept your pace, stumbling over your feet as you spotted your house ahead, ignoring Seungmin’s screams for you to slow down and giving everything you had inside you to get there, to finally see her with your own eyes once more.

     Protecting your family?! I’m your family, mother! You should be protecting my wife! You should be protecting your granddaughter! He howled as soon as you reached the front door. You froze, hand on the doorknob and eyes wide as saucers as you let your mouth fall agape, breathing sharply “If you can’t recall it, she died! She died because instead of saving her you chose to kidnap my daughter and leave my wife to burn at the stake! You chose them! And you can’t blame me for choosing her now!” He grunted, his voice raising by the second.

     It was like everything inside you had just stopped the middle way.

     The wind around you seemed to flinch, the heavy silence that followed its previous buzz made your head empty, almost like you were too hollow to even sense anything right now. You trembled from head to toes, hands fumbling to turn the doorknob and finally give you access to your living room as you dragged your feet, forcing yourself in. Empty. You felt your heart racing in your chest; the flickering thoughts on your mind accused you of a million things but the only one you could hold on to for the time being was that you were crazy.

       You must be crazy.

      “Do you think that was what I wanted?” She muttered; voice faltering, too heavy with the weight of her regret “If not her it would be all of us, son… My duty wasn’t with her… It was with all of us” She continued, and this time you could tell the voices came from the kitchen, letting out a relieved sigh “I must protect all of us even if it means someone has to be left behind” You heard Seungmin right next to you, and you snapped your head to him, a finger placed on your lips asking for some silence, getting a confused tilting of the head from the boy.

    “Interesting thing that the only one you wanted to leave behind was a human” He scoffed, and Seungmin shot his head up, following your gaze to the kitchen as he heard the grudge on his father’s voice “Interesting that you didn’t leave my daughter behind! You took her away from me! And for what?!” He yelled, smacking the table before breathing deeply, trying to recompose himself “Look, it’s not my fault you couldn’t take care of her… You failed, mom” He sighed tiredly at the same time you and Seungmin peeked over the doorframe “You failed at protecting every single one of us… And now she’s with me… My bunny bun came back to me and I won’t let you take her away again” The flickering figure of your grandmother faced Mr.Kim filled with resentment, face contorted on a hurt grimace that even the low-quality energy projection couldn’t hide.

     You felt Seungmin flinching right next to you.

     You felt your knees giving away as you supported yourself on the doorframe.

     You felt like the entire world just disconnected from your body.

     “I will do what you never could… I’ll protect my family” He announced, oblivious to both of his children flabbergasted at the door, and you brought your hand to your chest, feeling all the air vanishing from your lungs “Now tell Isati to stop this goddamn projection and stop bothering me!” He continued, and not even Seungmin’s hold was enough for your legs to support you “I have a birthday to spend with my daughter for the first time in sixteen years and you won’t take this away from me again” You fell on your knees, the loud thud finally getting their attention.

      Their eyes snapped at your figure on the floor, alarmed.

      Seungmin kneeled beside you, trying to hold your shoulders to convey some kind of comfort as he stole some glances at both of the figures standing in the kitchen, taken aback by everything he had just listened to. You lifted your wavering eyes to Wiha’s figure, opening and closing your mouth at a loss for words, before glancing to Mr.Kim ─ your father ─ with tears streaming down your face, shrinking, your whole body shaking in shock as you tried to make sense of everything you just heard.

      Wiha kidnapped you and took away your memories.

      Mr.Kim was your father and he hid it from you.

      Your mother was burned at the stake.

     “My dreams… They’re about my mother? It was never about me? ” You asked on a string of voice, eyes fixed on the floor as the realization hit you “Why?” You grunted, lifting your eyes to glare at them, enraged “Why did you hide it from me?! Why?!” You howled, clenching your fists as you smacked the floor, face twisted in disgust “It was my fault, wasn’t it?!” You yelled, getting up, snapping your head at your father before looking at Wiha “She died because of me, didn’t she?! You hid it from me because I was the one to blame, wasn’t it?!” You demanded to know when you met their silence, scoffing as they stared at you speechless.

     “We don’t know” Wiha rushed to say but your father snorted incredulously.

     “She didn’t do anything” He hissed, glaring at her “It wasn’t her fault!” She looked at him tiredly, and you noticed for the first time how she seemed to have aged on these past few months everything she didn’t on this past few years “It wasn’t her fault! You don’t know what happened!” He insisted, and this time she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

     “Neither do you” She stated matter-of-factly “The only one who knows what happened now is her” She looked at you, and you couldn’t help but grimace, laughing humorlessly as if she had said a great joke.

     “Yeah, if you hadn’t taken away my memories!” You sneered, and she nodded in resignation. You groaned, pulling your hair in frustration before letting it go and glaring at her “And you don’t even care! Why the hell are you here anyway?! You don’t care about me! You don’t care about your son! You didn’t care about my mother! You don’t care about anyone!” You yelled, gesturing exasperatedly as you let all your rage unravel “You only care about yourself and your damn lessons and that damn coven!” You groaned, feeling the tears coming back to your eyes.

     “Y/N, calm down” She demanded, looking around worriedly “You’re gonna get unwanted attention” She warned, watching how the wind started to twirl again, the gale forming against your will and lifting the furniture that smashed on the walls and crushed in smaller pieces that kept hitting everything around.

    “Y/N, calm down!” You scorned, a mocking tone that dripped sarcasm “Y/N, don’t forget the lessons!” You sing-sang, scoffing “Y/N, do this! Y/N, do that! Y/N, listen to me!” You howled, clenching your jaw as you tried to stop your tears, punching the doorframe so the pain would bring your mind back in place “I’m not your puppet! You can’t play with me forever!” You screamed, glaring at her “I won’t go back to you! Try kidnapping me again and erasing my memories if you’re so worried about me!” You laughed, pressing your eyes to calm down.

    “I did what was best for all of us” She croaked “I was protecting you! I’m trying to protect you now” She assured, eyes prickling with tears “Please, calm down… They will come to check on you… They will see it” She gestured around “You’re gonna burn” She wailed, approaching you.

    “So they’re gonna burn with me” You hissed “We can only have two culprits… It was either me or them, right? So let us both burn to death” You decided, eyes overflowing with rage as you made your way outside. You ignored their voices behind you, asking you to calm down, and their attempts to get closer to you to hold you back, feeling all the turmoil inside you oozing from each pore of your body in an outburst you never had before.

     The wind around you clicked and crackled on your ears, engulfing you on an endless twirling and pushing everything away, clearing your way as you headed to the oval square. The villagers ran around the place ─ terrified of your figure slowly raising from the ground, supported by the whirlwind under your frame ─, and some of them were brutally wiped by the turmoil, crashing against the floor or the walls and falling unconscious to the ground, enticing screams and cries for help all around.

     “Y/N, stop it!” You heard Seungmin scream on top of his lungs, trying to fight the wind wall that pushed him away “You have to calm down!” He continued but you didn’t pay any attention to his pleads, raising your hand to hit people with a huff of air “You’re better than that! Don’t do it!” He begged, and this time you glanced at him, watching as he squirmed under your powers.

    “They don’t deserve my mercy!” You roared, gesticulating vehemently to keep the wind whipping everyone around, tossing people away “They killed and hunted us for ages!” You added, grunting, snapping your head around to look for new targets “It’s their time to suffer! It’s their time to die!” You cried, raising yourself even more to get a better look around the place.

     Terror was all you could see.

    A giggle resounded on your right ─ soft and distant like a twinkling fairy ─, and you snapped your head, reaching out to take down whoever was taking your rage lightly but meeting no one in sight. You swiveled your head, searching for the source of these giggles but everytime you blasted your power in their directions, there was no one on the receiving end of your fury. You gestured blindly to hit them, flustered by the situation as you couldn’t spot anyone apart from the people who were already in the ground, whimpering.

    Hey, Bunny Bun! The voice faltered, thin like a string in the air, and for the first time, you met someone in your sight. Hop, hop to the hole! It’s time to go home, let’s go! The wavering image showed your father laughing, offering his hand to someone behind him that you couldn’t see. The giggles sounded once more, even more distant this time, and the scene dissolved into the air as if it never displayed in front of you, to begin with.

    You stumbled over your whirlwind, losing your balance for a split of a second.

    It’s too soon for bunnies to hop! A woman groaned jokingly, and you turned around to see her running your way, obviously pretending to put some effort into it to catch someone right in front of her, enticing once more the giggles. You faltered once more, body almost falling to the ground as you lowered yourself, wind flickering around you as if it was about to give in at any moment.

     It felt like your head was about to explode.

    Mom! You turned around once more but there was nothing to be seen, just the screaming voice cracking at the end, choked by their own emotions. They sounded miserable and hurt, and you could almost hear their struggle as they repeated it over and over again before a whisper caught your attention.

    Sleep…The buzzing inside your mind could either be because of those voices or from the enchantment you could hear clearly on the air, the raspy tune from your Grandmother scratching the back of your mind, just like a memory you couldn’t really recall but you tried to. Somehow, you just knew in the bottom of your heart what it was about… It was from the day she kidnapped you… The day your mother was burned.

    It was all the air inside your lungs just vanished right there.

    The twirling wind sounded like a whistling kettle, taking over your senses and overwhelming you, and the endless turmoil inside your chest seemed to take your breath away, forming a lump on your throat and suffocating you. The sound of the giggles and voices kept playing on a loop inside your mind, sounding softer and even more distant by the second, almost like you were losing your consciousness, slowly sliding to your death. The dizziness overtook your senses, and before you knew it, the darkness engulfed you and dragged you down on a spiraling endless fall.

     You were going to burn to the ends of hell.        

                                                                      ////

      The slap on your face brought you back to life.

      The darkness dissolved into blurriness as you opened your eyes, duplicated images jumbling right in front of you and making it impossible to figure out what was happening at first. You felt your head heavy, hanging to the side before you could try to straighten up but failing as it hung forward with a bob, startling you. You tried to adjust your vision, blinking repeatedly as you widened and rolled your eyes, feeling your head spinning while hearing an endless ringing in your ears.

     You felt like a piece of trash.

     The next thing you realized was that your limbs were bent back, tied around a wood pillar, immobilizing you in an uncomfortable position that gave freedom only to your head. You tried to jerk your shoulders, a vain attempt to release yourself, and not only your weak motions weren’t enough to free you but also your bad behavior was met with a harsh blow on your stomach. You hunch your back by reflex, the restraints holding you in place and pressing against your tender flesh, hurting you.

     The pain helped to awaken your senses.

     “By the power vested in me!” Someone’s voice rang in your mind, yelling to the crowd, and you finally got to turn your head, staring blankly at them “I declare this woman as guilty of witchcraft and wizardry!” He announced, and the crowd cheered, croaking and growling before the man raised his hands in a silent ask to continue, “The witch may pay for her sins burning at the stake!” He declared, and the hooraying increased.

   You lowered your head, meeting the straw around your feet on the wooden platform where you were standing, displayed like a piece of meat to be roasted. You closed your eyes for a few seconds, sighing as you took everything in. You were going to die ─ just like in Seungmin’s dream ─, and it was your entire fault. The emptiness you felt that day drenched into your bones once more, and the sudden realization that there was nothing more ahead of you burbled in your chest as a mix of relief and despair, morphing into overwhelming hopelessness.

    The end of the line… It felt much creepier than you thought.

    “Does the witch have anything to say on her behalf?” The man asked you with judging eyes, and it was obvious that he didn’t care about anything you had to say. You scoffed, lifting your head and roaming your eyes through the crowd, meeting their disgust and the yearning glint to see you burn to ashes before finding your father and brother’s watery eyes.

    Both of them stood right there in front of you with agonized eyes searching for yours, and their face twisted in a frown, overwhelmed with regret and the pain of losing you. The brief moment seemed to awaken Seungmin’s anger, and he howled and protested, trying to get closer to you, but your father was quick to hold him back, restraining him as he struggled to free himself. You watched how he wailed and cried, his efforts to fight for his freedom decreasing before he turned his back at you, crying on your father’s shoulder. You watched as your father sucked his lower lip, holding Seungmin for dear life as he watched you displayed there, eyes filled with fear of losing not only you but also Seungmin.

   You felt the pity wash all over you.

   Pity for your father who would witness his loved ones burning not once but twice.

   Pity for your brother who had his hands tied down and couldn’t help you as he wanted.

   Pity for yourself who would burn for being too reckless.

  “Well, if the culprit doesn’t have anything to sa—“ He continued but you were fast to interrupt him, trying to fix a smile on your face as you looked straight into your father’s eyes.

    “It’s too soon for bunnies to hop” Your voice faltered, and you cursed yourself, trying to ignore the obvious quivering on the corner of your lips as you smiled to him “I’ll hop straight home…” You felt your eyes watering and you looked up to hold your tears back before returning your gaze to him, brows twitching for a second “… Into mom’s arms” You concluded, feeling the lump on your throat getting thicker but refusing to let him see your tears.

     The priest didn’t seem as touched as you, gesturing to the man beside you to set the straw under your feet on fire and making you inhale sharply, closing your eyes to wait for your cruel destiny. The warmth enveloped your feet ─ emanating slowly to your body as a warning that prompted you to open your eyes and fix your gaze on the dancing flames ─, creeping in an insufferable pace as if it was slowly welcoming you to your fate.

    The casting glow hurt your eyes and the constant howling and growling from the crowd seemed to make its way to your brain, reminding you of your dreams ─ the way the flames engulfed your mother’s body as she screamed her lungs out in agony ─, and flipping a switch inside you. It was like you suddenly realized you were going to die. The flames crackled and suddenly licked your body for a split of a second, making you jolt your feet away just to be brutally held back by the restraints, and that was it.

     You were going to burn.

     The realization made you wriggle ─ wrestling against the ropes that firmly held your body on the stake ─ and the fierce struggling just served to bury the ropes on your flesh, hurting and marking you. You widened your eyes as the flames rose once again, practically mocking your efforts to get away from this, as you intensified your struggling, jerking your limbs for dear life and begging for mercy as you bawled just like your mother did, crying and wailing to anyone who would want to hear.

     The next minute was a mess.

     First, you whimpered as you closed your eyes shut and tried to force your powers out of you in hope that the wind could shut down the flames and release you. The attempt was met with an unbearable wave of exhaustion through every fiber of your body that made you tremble, feeling drained out from your earlier outburst. The only hope you had vanished just like this, leaving your head spinning and your limbs limp as the flames scorned you once again.

    Second, you heard a roar ─ a powerful war cry that spread around as a blast of wind sweeping everything ─ that made you raise your head to meet whoever was yelling like this, ready to save you. The male voice was followed by a few female ones that sounded wild and furious, and as you heard the loud “Enough!” that baffled everyone, you met his eyes. The dark brown eyes buried into yours filled with fierce determination and something else, softer, that made your heart skip a beat.

     Third, the girls that walked beside Chan threw their spears with terrific accuracy, taking advantage of his blast to boost their attacks. The spears impaled the priest and the executioner’s head at the same time the flames under your body vanished with the wind, and you didn’t try to look behind you to see their bodies lying on the floor. They didn’t even wait for their weapon to hit them ─ confident enough on their habilities ─, ordering their allies around and taking the lead.

    The Coven was here for you.

    You could only watch as some familiar faces ─ such as The Elders and their children ─ and some unfamiliar ones ─ all of them armed females with a feral aura ─ charged towards the crowd filled with determination and resentfulness. The villagers didn’t seem more pleased than your allies, and as soon as they realized the situation, the counterattack was put into action, resulting in a fierce battle between both parts, though pretty unbalanced.

    You observed as Seungmin and your father sprinted to get to the stairs that gave access to your platform, eager to release you from the stake, but some of the villagers seemed to have the same idea. You were quite sure they weren’t really interested in saving you, though. They fought in the stairs, changing their goal of release you to prevent anyone from reaching and hurting you. The anxiety took over you, and you started to roam your eyes through the crowd, searching for someone who could help you get rid of your ties.

    “Don’t use more force than necessary!” You could hear your Grandma yell, and you followed her with your eyes as she grabbed several faces by the minute, putting everyone she could touch to sleep. The Earthy Elder appeared out of nowhere by her side, laughing maniacally as she buried her hands to the ground, making the earth shake and knocking down some villagers. She twisted her hands and suddenly the ground turned into quicksand that swallowed people slowly “Yerkir!” Wiha hissed, throwing her quick warning look.

    “What?! I’m not even touching them!” She yelled in amusement, laughter sounding in the air in contrast with the screams and growls around her “Dinta! Behind you!” Yerkir snapped her eyes to the side, and you followed her gaze, stunned to meet an old lady dodging a sharp blow aimed at her head without even looking back, lowering her torso and turning back in one quick motion. She didn’t take more than a second to fix her gaze on her attacker before skillfully raising her hand and burying her blade into the man’s neck as if it was nothing, averting her trained eyes to look for a new prey.

     She looked ferocious.

     “Watch out!” You heard Changbin yelling right in front of you, and for a brief moment, you thought you were screwed, turning your head around to spot your aggressor but the blow never came as no one was beside you. You returned your gaze to him to see him ramming into some a random villager by the shoulder, taking him to the ground before raising his gaze to one of the girls that accompanied Chan earlier “Looks like I got your back” He smiled teasingly at her.

      She adjusted her longbow in a quick motion, positioning her feet quickly to get some stance before nocking and setting her arrow, drawing the bowstring and resting her fingers on her cheek as she aimed right into Changbin’s face. He paled, widening his eyes and raising his hands in defeat but the girl grinned, tilting the bow to the side and releasing the arrow that flew directly to a man behind Changbin, going through his flesh and getting him to the ground, his improvised weapon falling from his hand.

     “Now we’re even” She snorted, and you could see the smugness oozing from her as she lowered her bow before looking at you, arching her brow “Prince charming didn’t come to help you out yet?” She sneered, jumping on the platform effortlessly ─ though the height wasn’t really negligible ─ and looking around the crowd to spot anything concerning.

    “Y/N!” Chan chirped, propelling his body with some wind to jump on the platform, rushing to your side, and resting his forehead on yours, cupping your cheeks ever so gently as he sighed in relief before looking deeply into your eyes. It wasn’t the best moment to feel embarrassed but feeling the warmth of his hold on you after so long made your heart race, and you felt your face burning as his thumbs rubbed circles on your cheeks.

    “Cut out the crap” She scoffed, and you could see in the corner of your eyes how she frowned with disgust as she took a knife out of nowhere, heading behind you and gripping your wrists to chop the ropes and release your hands. You fell forward, tangling your arms around Chan’s neck for some support, and he promptly moved his hands to your waist, trying to balance you as the girl squatted to chop the lower ropes, releasing your legs, “All ready” She said, dusting her hands after she sheathed the knife.

     “Can you stand?” Chan asked thoughtfully, helping you to place your feet on the floor. You felt your knees giving out as soon as you touched the ground, unable to feel anything as your legs were completely numb. He held you tightly, bringing your body closer to his before placing a kiss on your temple, “That’s okay, I’m here for you” He whispered soothingly, returning one of his hands to your cheek.

     “That’s enough, Prince Charming” She grimaced, scrunching her nose as she looked both of you from head to toes, disgusted “We have to take her away from here and—“ She started to say but Seungmin’s terrified scream interrupted her and got you snapping your head to him, startled. He fell to the floor, butt thudding on the platform as he stumbled over his feet trying to get away from the girls that held their knives up, prepared to kill them without a second thought.

    “They’re friends!” You yelled at the same time your father fell to the floor, just like Seungmin, reaching out for them as you tried to disengage from Chan to jolt their way to help them out. The motion was useless since you still couldn’t feel your legs, and as you fell to the ground ─ unable to stand up ─ you gathered all your remaining energy to give the last blow, managing to get a blast of air out of your palms to knock the girls down the stairs.

     You didn’t even feel your face hitting the floor as you passed out.

                                                                            /////

    You woke up with a terrible headache.

    You opened your eyes, staring at the blurry ceiling upon you as you felt your head throbbing, sighing in relief as you realized that you were back home. Although you still couldn’t see clearly, you would recognize the wooden beam and the lazy vines that hovered over your head throughout your entire life anywhere, even with your eyes closed. The familiar surroundings soothed you, and Vivi untangled herself from the beams to poke you playfully, making you giggle and try to push her away.

    Your hand didn’t move an inch.

    You looked down your arms, noticing the leaves that wrapped your forearms before locking your eyes with two hands holding yours, feeling your heart skip a beat. Chan was sitting on the floor in a clearly uncomfortable position that would gift him with a terrible backache in the future; his head rested on the mattress, plump lips brushing your knuckles as a trickle of drool glistened on the corner of his lips. You chuckled; studying how his fingers intertwined with yours and feeling your heart swell as he mumbled something in his sleepy state, nuzzling your hand before falling silent again.

     You reached out for his hair, gently playing with his locks as you patted his head, smiling when you noticed the corner of his lips twitching, almost like he was giving a smile of his own. You brushed his hair away from his forehead to get a better look at his face, staring at his peaceful features. You couldn’t help but admire his beautiful long eyelashes adorning his eyes, his blond wavy locks that framed his face, and his soft traits that gave him an angelic aura.

      He was ethereal.

      The endearing moment was broken by someone clearing their throats, and you snapped away from your daydreaming, darting your eyes around the place to meet the source of this new sound. You met your father’s eyes, his amused smirk was somewhat mocking, and he arched a brow at you before staring at the boy that held his little girl’s hand. You felt your face burning and the urge to pull your hand away, but you didn’t, choosing to stare back at him as you waited for him to say something.

      “He’s a good boy” He stated simply, returning his gaze at you “He stood up all night to take care of you… He even plastered some ointment on your bruises and bandaged you with these leaves” He got up from the chair, adjusting Seungmin’s head to lay on the wall as he did so, walking your way and fixing Chan’s coat around his shoulders “I told him you would wake up by the morning but I guess young love is not only blind but also deaf” He chuckled, and you hid your face behind your free hand.

    “Please” You whined embarrassed, and he laughed wholeheartedly. You smiled at him, enjoying the sound of his laughter and looking fondly at him before your smile dissolved into a frown and you averted your eyes, an unsettling feeling inside your chest. He looked at you questioningly, and you bit your lip before returning your gaze at him “Why didn’t you tell me that I was your daughter? Did you know all along?” You asked curiously and yet hurt, getting a resigned sigh from him.

    “You know? When Seungmin first came home with this coat…” He touched the fabric over Chan’s shoulder, smiling nostalgically at it “Your mother gave me this as a gift for helping her… She didn’t want to stay with The Coven but she couldn’t simply go to another village without a single thing… It would be really suspicious and dangerous, so Wiha brought her to me because… Well…” He trailed off, flourishing his fingers right upon Chan’s face.

    You gasped when the air wavered around him, revealing a completely different face.

    “I could help her to go unnoticed” He explained, gesturing to interrupt his enchantment “Anyway, I knew you were around when he came back with it, and then a couple of days after you appeared in my living room” He chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest “You look just like your mother… I had no doubts you were my daughter” He admitted, and you frowned, lowering your gaze.

    “So why didn’t you tell me?” You insisted to know, and he walked to the other side of your bed, sitting there before holding your free hand, looking into your eyes filled with regret.

    “I was afraid… What if it pushed you away? I didn’t know what Wiha did to you throughout all those years… What if you thought I was the enemy? What if you hated me? What if you couldn’t handle this? I had just gotten you back… I didn’t want to lose you again” He sighed, averting his eyes “I’m sorry… I should have known better” He caressed your cheek, and you leaned against his palm, closing your eyes.

    Could you really blame him?

    You didn’t think so.

    The door creaked as it was being opened, revealing your Grandma behind it ─ head ducking into her shoulder and uneasy eyes darting between both of you ─, bringing a heavy silence that fell upon you three uncomfortably. Your father straightened his back before getting up, clearing his throat and rubbing his nape as your Grandma shifted her weight from left to right, building enough tension to cut with a knife. You felt your body stiff as you tried to think about what to say, gulping down as you glanced over your father before returning your gaze to your Grandma.

    “I think you need to talk” Your father stated kinda wary, pursing his lips “And I probably should go help out there” He mumbled, heading to the door. The Elder stepped aside to let him pass, following him with her gaze before sighing and lowering her head, closing the door behind her and sauntering your way, sitting beside you. The silence that settled between you two was uncomfortable, and both of you stood there, staring at each other before she cleared her throat, decided to break the ice.

   “I didn’t mean to… I was trying to protect you” She muttered, looking at you “I guess all I did was push you towards the danger… I’m sorry” She had sincerity in her eyes, and her lips twisted down ─ hinting how ashamed she felt for everything she did ─ eyes wavering to hold your gaze “I couldn’t save your mother… The Coven was establishing itself at the time… It was five of us and a bunch of kids to take care of” She sighed, lowering her gaze to the floor “I know it’s no excuse for what I’ve done but at the time it seemed like the only logical choice…” Her voice faltered, and you tilted your head, looking at her filled with pity.

    “That’s a lot to take in” You admitted, sighing heavily “You lied to me throughout my whole life… You stole me from my home and you erased all my memories…” She tightened her lips, eyes watering as she nodded, expecting your answer though you could see she was hurt “… And yet I missed you every day of these four months” She snapped her head up, looking taken aback by your input “I love you, Grandma” You smiled at her, and this time she let some tears fall from her eyes, emotional “And with time, we’ll be able to get through this” You promised.

    “I love you too” She said, rolling her eyes up to look at the ceiling as she wiped her tears quickly, pretending to be allergic to something as she sniffed, rubbing her nose and averting her eyes from you. She fought back a smile, rubbing her eyes once more and nodding in acknowledgment “And I can give your memories back if you want… I kept them close to you just in case” She chuckled, looking up. You followed her gaze, arching your brows in surprise.

    “Vivi?!” You widened your eyes, flabbergasted “You’re kidding me!” You stared at the vines, amazed by the possibility of getting your memories back and remember every day you spent with your mother and your father as a kid. You reached for Vivi, caressing her as you thought about all the things you would get back, all of your memories with your family… All the jokes, all the cuddling, all the laughter… All the love.

    “The only thing is…” She trailed off, staring at Vivi with unfocused eyes “The only motive she’s alive is to keep your memories” She tried to explain, pursing her lips “She’ll die as soon as you get them back” She added, approaching the vines to caress them with such fondness that it made you wonder for a moment.

   “There are things that I feel like I need to know… Things I want to remember” You admitted, studying the lovely vine tangling on your grandma’s hand fondly of her “So much must have happened in two years… There are so many memories I wish to get back…” You felt a lump forming on your throat as you reached out for Vivi, caressing the vines as the guilt sank into your body.

   Chan nuzzled your hand, mumbling something in his sleep, and interrupting your train of thoughts. He whined, hands letting go of yours to rub his lower back as he frowned in pain, scrunching his nose and lifting his head from the bed. He groaned, hands going to his neck now as he stretched his neck in a circular motion, muttering something under his breath and finally opening his eyes, still sleepy.

    “I mean… I have plenty of ways to get new memories to cherish now too” You smiled fondly, studying his bloated face in amusement. He rubbed his eyes and groaned once more, pressing his cheeks to try to feel more awake, making you chuckle. The bed shifted as your Grandma got up, prompting you to look at her. She had twinkling eyes and a knowing smirk plastered on her face as she nodded in acknowledgment, dusting her clothes off.

    “Well, take your time to decide what you want to do” She reassured you, averting her eyes to Chan before giggling, “I think I should go help the others too… We have a lot to discuss with all the ruckus in the village” She headed to the door, throwing a last look over her shoulder “He didn’t stop thinking about you once throughout all those months… Just saying, in case he trails off” She chuckled, closing the door behind her.

    You couldn’t believe your Grandma… You stared blankly at the door, blinking a couple of times before you averted your eyes to Chan, dumbfounded, noticing the way his ears seemed to be on fire. You felt your heart racing as he opened his mouth to say something but closed it right after, looking away from you and rubbing his nape, embarrassed. He didn’t look like he was sleepy anymore but he looked just as lost as when he opened his eyes, and somehow you found it endearing.

    “Good morning, handsome warlock” You joked, and you enjoyed the way his face flushed in a bright red, which made you chuckle “So a bird told me your head is all filled with me…” You said on a sing-song tune, holding back your smile when he groaned, hiding his face behind his hands. You stared at him, wondering how he could be this shy after holding you and flirting like he had been before you ran away.

    “Good morning…” He answered as if he had been defeated, getting up from the floor and glancing at you shyly “How are you feeling?” He asked, ignoring his own embarrassment for a moment to reach out for your forearms, inspecting your bandages “Does it still hurt?” He pressed your arms with a little bit more strength than before, and you shut your eyes closed, hissing.

   “Stop it!” You whined, and he immediately let go of your arms, chortling when you pouted, crossing your arms over your chest “I’m feeling just fine!” You grumbled, and he sat beside you, smiling at you as if he thought you were the most amusing thing in this world. You sat on your bed, intertwining your fingers as you stole some glances at him, suddenly feeling shy with his presence so close to you “I… Thank you… For saving me” You floundered, gulping down and fixing your gaze on your hands laying on your lap.

    “I don’t think I deserve this… All of us worked together” He shrugged, though you could see how his cheeks were dusted with pink “I… Well… So…” He stuttered, clenching his fists on his lap as he tried to say whatever he wanted to say to you, prompting you to rest your hand on his leg to reassure him “You’re eighteen now!” He blurted on a high pitched tone, eyes snapping to your hand lying on his thigh.

     “Yeah, kinda what happens when you have your birthday at seventeen” You joked, and he chuckled at you, nodding “So… I’m officially a witch now” You cleared your throat, averting your gaze to the door, feeling your face burning at your hidden suggestion “And you… Well… So what about it?” You trailed off, retracting your hand from his thigh.

    “I… I made you a birthday gift… I mean... It’s nothing fancy like a coat but I made it especially for your eighteenth birthday and it’s totally okay if you don’t want to accept it! I mean, you may not even need it! Actually, it’s not really useful but it has a lot of meaning to it, and—“ You laughed as he rambled, pushing him lightly as you looked at him playfully.

    “You didn’t need to” You cut him off, and he blushed once more, lowering his head.

    “Well, I kinda did…” He mumbled, searching for something in his pockets. You watched him curiously as he finally found it, handing you a small bracelet that seemed to have been braided by someone. The piece had eight beads adorning it like, and you arched your brows as you took the gift in your hands, staring at it in awe.

    “It’s beautiful!” You chirped, wearing it immediately and studying it carefully on your wrist, grinning approvingly “You made this?” You asked, turning your head at him, and he nodded coyly. He took the hand you put the bracelet in his, rubbing circles at the back of your hand before focusing his eyes on yours, a fierce glint taking over his features.

   “Do you recognize it?” He bit his lips, and you tilted your head in confusion, studying the bracelet closer. It looked somewhat alike Caeli’s one, and the realization made you widen your eyes, snapping them at him as you gasped, flabbergasted.

   “Is it a –?“ He interrupted you, tightening his grip on your hands, anxiously.

   “Doesn’t have to be if you don’t want to!” He rushed to say, unable to hold your gaze. He played with your thumbs, swallowing dry before trying to look into your eyes. You stared at him in shock, not even once imagining he would give you an engagement bracelet, feeling your heart beating so fast that it resounded in your ears “One bead for each year I knew I wanted to marry you…” He let go of your hands, hiding his face “Mother Nature! This is so embarrassing! I told my mom you wouldn’t like it! Actually, just give it back! I can totally give you something else! I mean, just ask it! I will try to find it and –“

   You scoffed, holding his cheeks and bringing his face closer to yours, interrupting his rambling once again. He widened his eyes as he got closer to your face, and you almost chortled when your lips met, crashing against each other before both of you slowly closed your eyes. The initial messy kiss morphed into a more caring one; lips molding on each other as you felt butterflies in your stomach, the slow movements trying to convey years of yearning for this very moment.

  He cupped your cheek, leaning your way and guiding you to lie down, body hovering over yours as he deepened the kiss, tongue battling against yours to explore every inch of each other. His other hand rested on your waist, and you felt confident enough to wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him impossibly closer to you. He whispered something against your lips ─ something that sounded just like a confession ─ before capturing your lips again, losing himself on you.

    The moment would be the best thing you ever experienced.

    “Holy shit!” Seungmin yelled in a strangled voice.

    If it wasn’t for your brother…

    Chan jolted away from you like you were on fire, sitting beside your lying body and looking at Seungmin like he was just caught red-handed. Well, he kinda was. Seungmin looked at you horrified, eyes studying both of you from head to toes before he grimaced, disgusted by what he had just witnessed. He got up from his chair, groaning and pressing his temples, refusing to look straight at you for a second.

    “I swear to God! I don’t want to see you guys… Oh my god! You should feel ashamed!” He accused, pointing at both of you “At least, wait to be alone, goddammit!” He whined, heading to the door at a quick pace, refusing to look back as he slammed the door behind him, traumatized. You stared at Chan’s lips, leaning his way once more before the window was slammed, startling you “And let me close this goddam window too!” He groaned, mumbling something as he walked away.

   Seungmin was so lucky he was your brother... Otherwise, you would be hunting him by now.

   You looked at Chan for a few seconds, deadpanned as your romantic moment was already ruined and there was nothing more to do about it. You both chortled, shaking your head in disbelief before he extended his hand for you to take, helping you out of bed and pecking your lips with a goofy smile plastered on his face, lowering his head to hide his grin and his flushed state.

    “I think that I let it pretty clear…” You chuckled, caressing his cheeks so he would return his gaze to you “But this was my way to say yes” You pecked his lips, and he laughed, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his forehead on yours.

   “I think you should say it a little louder… Not sure I heard it right” He sighed mockingly, and you placed a gentle kiss on his lips, smirking “Hm? What was it? I can’t hear you…” He whined, making you push his shoulder lightly, laughing at his antics. He pouted, and you rolled your eyes before kissing him once more, getting a satisfied grin from here “I think I’m beginning to hear it…” He mused.

   “You’re lucky I love you” You chortled, looking at him fondly.

   “Oh, that I am” He agreed, kissing you softly “Not only the most handsome but also the luckier warlock alive” He chuckled, and you let go of his neck, groaning jokingly as you headed to the door “Wait! I’m joking!” He laughed, following you and taking your hand on his, opening the door for both of you to brag about your news. He brought your tangled hands to his lips, placing a kiss on your knuckles before raising your hand in the air “I did it!” He yelled for everyone to hear, and you hid your face behind your free hand.

    It was okay if you had a moment ruined… You had plenty more to experience with him from now on.

#skz #stray kids #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #skz angst #stray kids angst #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #bang chan #seungmin #chan #kim seungmin #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #seungmin x reader #bang chan fluff #chan fluff #seungmin fluff #bang chan angst #seungmin angst #chan angst #chan fanfic #bang chan fanfic #seungmin fanfic

[peanuttindraws]

Triffany >:3c

.... *pushes Wambus out of the way* 

My wife now....

God, I love her so much hggggh... Like I feel she’s wicked underrated, which fair, she has to compete with ‘your boyfriend’ Filbo, The Boyfriends, Lesbian Wives, and well, her Husband...

I have the HC she is the youngest of 3 sisters, all having various suffixes that sound similar, Bittany, Stebbanie, and Triffany. And she was always the most adventurous/ explorative of the bunch. And while the other older sisters always complained about going to ‘Grandma Bronca’s’ house ‘it smells weird...!’ ‘If I have to hear about that expedition she did to castles in Grumpland, again, I’m gonna scream.’ Triffany always was super excited!

I think it's kinda... obvious at this point but she def is autistic or on the spectrum and I get the vibe that Bronica was too so they bonded a lot over telling each other stories. Though I get the feeling at that age, Triffany’s only stories were.

“Ya Gram, I found a big worm in the dirt the other day, under the bucket Bittany keeps her frogs in, the biggest one I found in the backyard yet!”

and Bronica would act like her finding a worm or a cool rock was JUST as important as her legendary discoveries and explorations. 

I think she lost her gram when she was still pretty young (around 10 or so) so.. hearing, “we think grandma isn’t coming back honey” kinda got her a bit morbid for a bit, maybe kickstarted her interest in death and bones and the like.

Also she def had a goth phase, but like she still was fairly perky?...  (just imagine her like reciting some Ebgar Allem Grump, Poetry in a Midwestern accent... “ya, hark the raven, nevermore doncha know.” She was prime Goth GF material... She kinda chilled out before meeting Wambus but.. I bet he sees old pics of her in a leather jacket and black lipstick and is like.

“.... dang.... that's my wife...”

#bugsnax #triffany lottablog #if she was Single I SWEAR #peasks #Just Goth Triffany sounds so hot and now I wanna draw her...

[thesolitarystripe]

Writing Prompt # 8: A 96-year-old woman’s phone number is one digit away from that of the suicide hotline. She could have changed it long ago, but she does not mind.

Here's your TW: Talk of familial loss, mention of suicide.

I found this writing prompt on tumblr from writing-prompts-re and for whatever reason it spoke to me. I just thought, what an endearing prompt for a subject that could potentially be so dark. It is dark, it's sad, and what a rainbow a little old woman painted over it. At least, in my head. I've been slumping back into that habit of losing my motivation. I'm not sure why. I'm giving myself the grace to do what I can and not beat myself up over it. Finding this writing prompt sparked it up all over again for me. It made me really miss my grandma. While I don't think she ever had this problem, I know she would have been just as comforting as Myrtie. In a way, I think I wrote this for her. I love you Nonni! Thank you for always being a soft spot to land. Enjoy.

Another Friday evening, another Jeopardy re-run. Myrtle, or as all her friends used to call her—Myrtie sat within the comfort of her reddish, brown recliner that was much too big for her. Always a petite woman, she looked like a twelve-year-old with the way the cushions swallowed her thin limbs, but she also appeared immeasurably comfortable. Myrtie pulled up the purple knitted blanket over her knees, gently tugged up the arms of her robe over both wrists as her hands lifted, poised with knitting needles and she began to bring yet another blanket into existence. This was how Myrtie spent most of her evenings, swaddled in a plush terry cloth robe, a pair of thick socks pulled up to the calf, and her hair resting beneath a bonnet, wrapped in curlers. Beside her was a cup of decaffeinated tea and a plate of cookies. Myrtie’s hands, while weathered by 96 years of life, worked the needles flawlessly as if they were an extension of a machine designed exactly for the purpose of knitting large lounging blankets. Every so often, she would giggle over something Alex Trebek would say to the participants on the show but save from the singsong chuckle, the room was silent. Myrtie had lost her husband twenty years ago. After marrying at the age of eighteen, it had been a difficult transition into this life alone. A life without his stories, hugs and forgetfulness. Myrtie often smiled sadly, wishing now for a sock to be left out of place or for the trash to be forgotten on the side of the house on garbage day. All those little things that would always make her so furious with her spouse, they were the details she missed most. Myrtie survived much longer than most of her friends, save for one that had gone to live inside a facility. They never spoke much, Myrtie assumed that either her friend had limited access to her phone or was too busy hustling the other residents in Bingo to bother calling. Myrtie was grateful for her loving and supportive family, but they could do nothing during the lonely nights when they went home to their families. She could not blame them. So, when her phone rang every so often late at night, Myrtie would answer. When the calls first began, she thought it odd that telemarketers would call so late but she soon realized her mistake.

This night, when her landline phone rang, she picked up the corded antique beside her and spoke.

“Hello?” Her voice held that raspy quiver that all good grandmothers had.

“I think I’m done.” The voice was new to her.

“Done? Done with what sweetheart?” There was a pause, as if the other voice sensed something was off but the draw of Myrtie’s kind voice urged them on.

“With living. With the world. I’m done here.”

“Oh, surely there’s things to stick around for,” Myrtie said, fluffing out her half-knitted blanket as she tucked the phone against her shoulder and ear to better use both hands.

“I don’t have anyone.”

“You have yourself. Isn’t he worth living for?” Another beat of silence. “You sound like you’re being too hard on yourself, your importance in the world does not hang on teeter-tottering validation of other people, honey. To be loved by others is a wonderful thing but loving yourself is just as important. Why don’t you stick around for yourself?”

“I’m lonely! Why would I want to be alone?”

“That is a good question, baby. Loneliness is so hard.” Myrtie’s hands paused, her heart gave one of those familiar throbs as it related to the young soul on the other end of the phone. Loneliness was something she was well acquainted with. “Before you go, have you got time for a story?”

“Well…yeah, I guess…”

Myrtie straightened up in her recliner, stretched out her back, and sighed. “I was married at eighteen years old to the love of my life. Albert. Goodness was he handsome! Now, we spent the first few years of our marriage apart—he went off to serve our beloved country. I was so desperately lonely without him. It didn’t matter that I had friends who called me up every day, parents to have supper with at night, I even watched the neighbor’s kids next door for a little spending money, and as busy as they kept me, I could never shake that feeling. When he came back, oh, it was the best day of my life! We spent the next fifty-six years together, every day! We had five beautiful children, a handful of pets that came and went, we lived in two different states and bought over four different cars.” Myrtie sat there smiling, her knuckles buried in the thick knots of her craft. “I miss him every day, it’s been twenty years and I still roll over in bed and miss the sight of him lying there, snoring.” Myrtie laughed. “Oh Lord how he snored! It was like someone was chopping down logs all night. I hated him for it,” her laugh tapered off in that pensive way, as her heart remembered fondly the memory then internalized the pain of it. “I would give anything to hear it now.”

There was silence. Sixty seconds of silence.

“Someone’s going to miss you like that, honey.”

A soft sob rustled against the receiver of the phone.

“I don’t know who you all have in your life, but I know you have a mama and a daddy. Even if things aren’t good between you now, they’ll miss you like that. Even if you haven’t spoken in years, they’ll miss the way you laughed, the way you hugged, the way you smelled even when you were nothing but a stinky young thing! Sometimes loneliness clouds our vision of all the people we do have. It is so easy to want for something, to be lonely because what we have doesn’t live up to what we think we should have. A girlfriend, boyfriend, spouse, best friend of forever, doting parents—we all have some sort of expectation. We are human and that is perfectly all right. I’ll tell you what though, there are no shoulds. Don’t let those insidious little shoulds run your life. I should this, I should that—toss that notion away, baby. There is just what is, what you want and what you don’t want. You got someone that loves you? Even one person that you’re not quite thinking of?”

“Yes…” a soft sniffle followed the confession.

“Good, all you really need is you baby but, I’m glad you have someone looking out for you. They’ll be missing you something fierce if you decide to be done. Even if they’re all you got, remember it’s about quality. Albert was my only friend for as long as I can remember. Sure, I met some ladies over the years and we gabbed and baked and knitted together but—the quality of those relationships were different. Don’t cheapen the idea of the one you have just because you think you need a lot! It’s better to have one person at your funeral to speak on what a wonderful person you were than be lying dead in a room full of people with nothing to say. What do you think about calling them right now and telling them what’s on your heart? You think that might help? If not, I’m happy to keep chatting with you, sweetheart. I ain’t got nothing to do but finish up this blanket I’m knitting. My kids already have ten of them in each of their houses so maybe I’ll just give this one to you. You like purple?”

There was a soft laugh that responded. “It’s a good color,” he said with a deep breath, one that sounded like it cleansed years of his life.

“Yeah, it is, baby. I’ll finish it for you and when you come to get it, I’ll make sure to have some cookies on for you. We’ll sit and chat and make sure you’re doing all right, hm?”

“That sounds nice,” he was chuckling again, the remnants of his tears still dripping off his face. “I think—I think I’m going to call my friend Greg.”

“All right, well tell Greg I said hello. He’s welcome to come with you now, sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.” Another silence followed. It was only broken by another slow breath. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“Thanks for calling honey. You have my number now so don’t be leaving grandma Myrtie without saying goodbye! Promise me.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

“Good. Go call Greg now, I’ll talk to you soon.”

“I will, bye Myrtie.”

The phone clicked and Myrtie hung up her landline with a soft clack of its plastic body. Myrtie knew there would be no visitation from her new friend. It was what she offered to all of them, a place to escape their loneliness. A reminder that while life’s peaks and valleys were relentless, there was always something to look forward to. Even if it was just a warm plate of cookies and a handmade blanket. Myrtie knew her phone number was one digit away from the suicide hotline. She pieced that together after receiving a dozen calls from hurting hearts. At first, she thought to hang up but, something about the way the broken words of other human beings dipped into her soul—she knew she could not let them go. Myrtie had no idea if anything she ever said actually helped someone, if they stayed. What she did know is that it helped her. In her own loneliness, it was like a salve on her own heart to know that others shared the same feelings but soldiered on despite the pain. Myrtie had lived within the dark recesses of her own mind and found light only in those around her once she willed herself to be open to seeing the love she did have, even if it wasn’t Albert’s. Myrtie reached over and grabbed her teacup, put it to her lips, rocked in her recliner, and looked at the phone. She hoped it would always ring when it needed to.

#creativewriting #writingprompts #writing #me writing #thesolitarystripe #author #tw #tw sui mention #tw loss

[cloveroctobers]

ANNA-JULIA “AJ” (JONES) JARLETT

IG bio/info: @/annajj9x_ | 20.1k followers| Athlete | hey peeps can you stop asking me to throw it back cuz the answer will always be no! K thx take it easy 🏳️‍🌈🌻🏒🐶

21 years old

From bath, England

Hockey player as her profession for the past three years

Her position is defense

Their team name is “rowdy alphas”...yeah some team names just didn’t make sense or they’re cringe for no reason at all

Was raised by her mom,(her mom was a teen mom & had her at 17) maternal grandmother, and her paternal aunt (dad’s younger sister, who’s more like a big sister to her at 28)

They’ve made her into the person she is, literally

Her grandmother has a bed and breakfast that they all live in

the house is Victorian style—almost as if they walked right out of charmed! Instead of a big pink house, think yellow AND purple. It was hideous but homey and charming on the inside

growing up in a house with multiple temporary strangers wasn’t odd to aj at all, in fact it felt like the norm. There was always someone around to socialize with so that was quite nice

Her father was a pro baseball player & passed away due to a automobile accident

she has his smile & freckles

aj was also involved in the accident at the age of 6 & miraculously survived with intense injuries

Has scars as a reminder

used to have night terrors because of the accident...it took awhile—years!!! for them to subside

they’re all vague memories now (but the pain is something she’ll always remember) but she preferred it that way

she’s named “Anna” after her mother’s old best friend/roommate and was supposed to be aj’s god mother but she went missing during their uni years

the name“Julia” came from her paternal grandmother who she gets her wide doe eyes from

her athleticism definitely came from her dad

Her mother luckily liked to document things so there’s a bunch of home videos of her dad in them & pictures/scrapbooks that her mom has for safe keeping

She’s more of a klutz, tiny, and wears huge prescription glasses

extremely close to the three most important ladies in her life, so she’s always been able to be open with them about anything!

when she first expressed her interest in liking both genders around 17-18 her paternal aunt was all smirks, “i knew Britney Spears was so your type, yeah?”

more like shakira but Brit was just as pretty

her mother was a “cry baby” so ofc she burst out into tears squeezing aj’s limbs and peppering her face with kisses. She didn’t view her child as anything different... as she shouldn’t & was glad that her daughter trusted them with this significant moment in her life and wanted to be as supportive as she could

got books, watched Ted talks and everything but knew she could come to the source even tho aj was still figuring it out herself

her grandma dipped her head at the new info sitting at the round kitchen table, “been there. had a few broads in my life after and during my marriage with your no good grandad. Thank goodness the bastard died before you even got to meet ‘em.” “Mum!”

what felt like the biggest weight on her chest was lifted. She knew they’d understand but a part of her had a little bit of doubt, she’s heard so many horror stories where those like her didn’t have the support she has and that made her extremely sad to think about

i see her as a person that has/had many friends in secondary. She’s always open to chat and her being on a few sports teams helped her out in her case

very competitive in anything that she does & will guarantee that she’ll beat you. (“ You wanna race to the car from here?”wins. “Who ever cleans the most dishes the fastest gets the last slice of pie.”) majority of the time she’s right but if she loses?? oh don’t let her lose to you, it’s a pity party for the rest of the time ur in her space. Such a sore loser omg

stays active, always working out + has a gym membership and makes sure she goes at least five times a week

she’s very strong, loves leg day & working on her core

she’s about 5’10

loves wearing “gf jeans” since they’re super comfy but doesn’t mind skinny Jeans with rips in the knees every now and then

trainers and chucks are her go-to sneakers

has no issue shopping in the men’s section ‘cause who’s gonna stop her? Nobody that’s who

owner of over a 100 graphic tees + vertical stripped shirts are also her favs, SWEATPANTS/joggers?! How many does she have? A lot. Snapbacks? Plenty. Will she wear them backwards? Obviously.

Physical touch is her love language. She’s comes from a family that has no issue showing their affection by touch. There is NO such thing as personal space and that still stands with aj when it comes to relationships, she sees no other way

It’s what she shows and what she wants in return, if you’re not touching her in some sort of way, then automatically she thinks there’s something wrong or that she did something

Is the jealous type. It has shown in relationships and ruined a relationship or two

Has cheated on a significant other out of pure jealousy & is not proud to admit that

Does have a wandering eye but feels now that she truly understands herself when it comes to relationships, she’ll never act on it again

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, I get libra tendencies from her so that’s what I’m sticking with. She likes to keep the peace (unless she’s jealous) , idealistic — always looking on the bright side of things, outgoing, romantic, and professional— especially when it comes to her team; her true leadership comes out, yet she can be indecisive, hates confrontation, self pitying — if things don’t go perfectly how she imagined/planned it to, the world is ending and everyone is out to get her, and can be unreliable—never on time

September libra to be exact

if she’s really in love/taken a interest in you then she gets nervous: blushing, sweaty palms, cracking her knuckles, tongue tied—the whole 9

she’s already defined as a puppy by her coach but when she’s in love? She’s a lovesick puppy!

her fav holiday is Valentine’s Day

thought she was going to be a pro skateboarder growing up but it took one bad fall where she thought she was paralyzed for her to choose something else

she likes her weed on occasion

Obsessed with all types of cheese except cottage, “can I put cheese on this?”

more of a jumpsuit kinda girl or dressy top with jeans & hoops on a night out

has a solid group of mates outside of the hockey team, they’ve all met and hung out a couple of times, as they should since aj feels they’re going to be stuck with her for awhile so why not?

They’re a riot when they all go out, let’s just say that there’s never a dull moment

fav color is periwinkle

enjoys ASMR, mostly in the mornings when she’s waking up. You know how people love podcasts? (Sorry seb & Nicky, she still wants to be on the show soon!) ASMR is her thing

loves tangerines, you can count on it that she’ll have one on her, “where did you pull that from?” “I’ll never share my master plan.” “You’re such a tit.”

Definitely prefers “fresh squeezed” orange juice & will make her own, she has the tools & the strength 😏

Very rare for her to get sick ;) & if she does she’s a complete baby about it

Will fight that she’s sick before she admits it, trying all sorts of horrid remedies & vitamins

loves summer & all things that come with it, the number one thing is leaving bath for however long she can for a new place to enjoy

when she arrived to love island, she was thrilled for the weather. Yes she was looking for love but most importantly a nice get away & that it was (depending on your route that is lol)

closest with seb, vieve, elladine, and tai but don’t tell the others that! (She doesn’t care if you tell Yasmin, honestly)

just because her & seb “dated” and it didn’t work out doesn’t mean they can’t be friends right? It was almost automatic for them to be platonic after it was determined there would be no romance between them, almost like sibs! like those celebs like to say—except this time these two won’t turn around and actually find romance

vieve came with seb so...but no shade aj did like vieve. She gave great advice (while seb sometimes didn’t say the right things unintentionally or what aj needed to hear) when needed, especially from a medical view and is very sweet

elladine was the one who had all the tea & ideas to match, she’s quite organized and always down for DIY’s and could suggest almost anything. If you needed someone to help you get things tidy or match/find your Aesthetic, she’s the friend you call to help

tai was the one she could be a “bro” with, sure elladine has her competive side (or controlling, depends on how you view it) but tai was the one you can run to for much needed “bro hugs”, partying, going to the pubs, playing sports with or against, checking out/flirting with babes, etc...

it was not long after the villa that aj had a revelation with her sexuality & fully owned and labeled herself as a lesbian

She was happy being in relationship with someone else or with herself, life was short and she was young so there wasn’t time to dwell and stress over things so what the hell?! Live your truth the best way you know how ya know?

probably smells like sweet citrus, almond flower, and sea salt

on chest days, she’s a sweets snacker. Loves gummy bears (also with vodka) , swedish fish, sour patch kids, etc...basically shit that sticks to ur teeth

put all her chips into hockey, while it was advised by her Counselors & mum not to do so, aj went about it anyway. She thought about the pros and cons but knew there was nothing else for her. So there were more pros than cons. She was meant to play sports, its what felt right in her soul

Made her feel connected to her father, when she’s on the field she feels that he is with her

 scrunches up her nose when she’s frustrated or confused about something

Doesn’t always grasp concepts right away, she’s a soft dummy but most of us are and that’s okay! We’re all smart in our own ways

Feels like sunflowers are always around her especially if she sees them wherever she is. They must symbolize SOMETHING, therefore she loves them

spf queen. All about it, get with it or let the sunrays ruin ur skin that’s on u

loves a good filet mignon medium-well & is probably the only good thing she knows how to make alongside a salad, baked potatoes, & her oj

sucker for romantic-comedies...it’s basically her life duh!

If she has a dog, it’s a Dalmatian or Great Dane. She needs a companion that’ll keep up with her

loves kissing, it’s her favorite form of intimacy

Quarantine life included the push up challenge for her. Gaining a few pounds in muscle and fat, bothering seb via ft, viewing old letters she wrote to her dad, spending time with her fav ladies since they were now restricted from having guests in their home, and letting boredom consume her + she hated the whole lockdown that came with it, she hated being indoors for long periods of time but she knew that’s what partly needed to be done

Posts a lot of beach, park, outings with her friends & team, moments with her fav ladies, workout videos, and guests at the b&b with their permission and if only she befriends them along the way. She’s just as active on the socials as she is in rl but she’s not obsessed with it, she knows how to live in the now. She’s all about balance!

I also feel like she never keeps her phone charged and it’s always dying on her! She had a car charger but...that’s a jungle. She needs to invest in a portable charger stat

crushing on/finds attractive: Jared Padalecki, Keanu Reeves, Barrett Doss, Camilla Luddington, Sandra Bullock, Adrian Kempe, Harry Kirton, Anya Taylor-Joy, Haley Lu Richardson, Naomi Osaka, Ming & Aoki Lee Simmons

who does she listen to? Shakira lol!! Bea Miller, Dua Lipa, Daya, XYLØ, Elley Duhé, Stela Cole, Aloe Blacc, Maroon 5, Lewis capaldi, Charlie Puth, girl in red, Hayley kiyoko, king princess, dodie, & tessa violet

Anthem: Icona Pop — we got the world

#litg #litg3 #litg s3 #litg aj #litg mc #litg oc #litg seb #litg genevieve #litg elladine #litg tai #litg yasmin #litg headcanon #litg moodboard #I felt like the pressure was on for her so sorry if this sucked lol #litg headcanons