#hi. Im at my grandparents place. its dark in here

[b4kuch1n]

review of every type of meat that’s ever been subjected to me

disclaimers: this will include offals when I have personal experiences with that. score is subjected to personal taste and accessibility price- and prep-wise. YMMV, etc., etc. "meat" here includes non-mammal non-avian animals, as long as it comes directly from the body (which means eggs and such are not included). I tried to find the closest english word for some of these that I only know as local ingredients, but the taxonomical orders at least should be correct.

pork: 9/10. classic. a bit finicky to prep and cook, which is why it doesn't get full mark, but re-heats nicely. very versatile, though on the heavy side as is the case with most bigger animals. the amount of fat and gelatin that comes with a belly cut makes it ideal for new year aspic, which very few other types of meat can be used for. pig offals are of acceptable textures most of the times, though they've overall softened as time goes on, which may lead to one point docked as I don't like that texture.

chicken: 8/10. also very versatile and takes on spices very well, but experiences may vary much more due to the large difference in texture and taste between dark and light meat on a chicken. the big reason why I mark chicken one point lower than pork is that I find reheated chicken much less pleasant than reheated pork. phantom extra point for show of skill with eating bone-in chicken with chopsticks. remove phantom extra point for overrepresentation in every offering meal. offals are inoffensive, but overly soft for my taste. blood however is more tolerable than pig blood.

beef: 8/10. I love beef. beef is great to eat and great to cook, especially viet beef, since you're either sautéing it on high or stewing it until it falls apart anyway. but not only is beef expensive, quality also varies greatly with different price points. beef fat is also very hard to deal with and it makes me mad to throw away a whole puck of fat. as a casual source of protein it falls firmly into the "more troubles than it's worth" category. the one thing keeping its score in the high range is phở and beef jerky.

duck: 9/10. far superior to chicken in my sincere opinion, but a chore to eat in the summer. in no way an every day meal, but this only secure its place as a treat, which gets it graded on the treat ladder, and it scores high there. the only thing keeping it from perfection is the heavier musk that limits its versatility compared to its land-bound counterpart.

muscovy duck: 7/10. taste-wise deeper than duck, but texture-wise much chewier, which makes eating it even more of a task. cooking options have been pretty much limited to roast and poach. it being bigger than a duck makes prepping and portioning it just slightly off as well, so most often you go out to eat it, which docks point for convenience.

squab: 6/10. the problem here is maybe lack of dedication to the craft. or maybe it's that it's very little, not very exciting meat for too much effort. putting a tentative question mark here for this score because I believe there is a squab experience out there that doesn't feel gimmicky but will blow the doors wide open to new horizons for me. I see potential in this, and I'm not yet sick of disappointment.

silk worm: 8/10. the reason why it's not getting a higher score is because there's one single dish I like with it as an ingredient, which is roasted dried silk worm with fish sauce, but the reason why the score's still an eight is because that dish slaps mad shit. it tentatively falls on the treat scale because it's not very easy to acquire, but once you get a bag of it you're pretty much set for several months, so I would still consider it casual-meal-worthy. may be an acquired taste, but I fully recommend acquiring that taste.

snail: 5/10. abhorrent texture, mild taste. better as ingredients for more complex dishes than as a standalone protein. my mom likes it though so it gets passing grade.

oyster: 3/10. worse texture than snail, even worse taste. doesn't get better when you season it, only makes the seasoning itself worse. not getting a zero only because it's good for blood and I'm open to a chance of redemption down the road.

shrimp/crab: 6/10. get the same mark because I eat them at the same frequency and the amount of paperwork required to eat them is equally excessive. take on spices fairly well, but it's not enough. if I could hold a crab like a hamburger and take a big bite this score would change. saved from the mid grade by their seasoning quality for delectable summer broths.

eel: 4/10. the only good way I've found to eat eel is to deep fry it until it denatures and turns into basically seaweed chips. this is good for sour soup rice noodle, but for that same palate a number of different fishes do the job better with more personality. it's okay with a heap of sauce japanese style, but the price discourages exploration.

tuna: 7/10, and mostly for canned tuna salad. eaten raw I find it mid and unexciting. a nice tuna salad sandwich is fun and childlike in its appreciation of the simple things though, so I wholely respect it.

salmon: 9/10. about as versatile as a seafood can get, and is fun to experience in any form. only one point docked for price and lack of excitement - I also, like with squab and oyster, await a life-changing salmon experience that makes this protein perfect once and for all.

clam worm: 8/10. like with silk worm, I only find it edible in one single form, which is minced clam worm patty fried up, but it excels at that one single thing. also stays in the high grade for fun factor of being a seasonal treat.

frog: 6/10. I really like frog legs. it has the tenderness of white fish with the ease of access of a chicken wing, and the taste is delicate in a delightful way. but I really dislike most of the rest of the frog to put in my mouth. this makes it kinda wasteful as a meat option. overall just kinda better enjoyed alive than cooked for like a third of its body.

dog/cat: 3/10. grouped up once again because they're equally unpleasant texture-wise and limited in prep options. I find meat from mammals of this size downward soft in a really off, is-it-going-bad-or-is-it-just-like-this way. the musk borders on off-putting, which is why prep options are limited to heavy seasoning and stew or roast. overall just way too little bangs for their bucks.

rabbit: 5/10. texturally worse than dog and cat, but the musk is much lighter and takes on seasoning much better. not really something you can find casually in the wet market, so exploration of the possibilities here isn't of convenience. this score may be subjected to change in the future.

deer: 6/10. interesting taste, but tough texture and a bit hard to figure out how to season. very hard to get one's hand on in the city, and honestly from my exposure to it I wouldn't go out of my way to acquire a cut. firmly in the "sure, if I come across it" category.

water buffalo: 6/10. beef but chewier. makes for good drinking food, but I barely drink, so mostly not my thing. also limited in ways to prep - most commonly sautéd with garlic or made into jerky. I feel like there's a depth to this protein I cannot access, which makes me mad, but also earns it respect.

field mouse: 4/10. texturally even worse than rabbit, taste-wise extremely inoffensive. verges on the low end because it just raises the question of why. why is this a local specialty. it's mouse, dude. you can not be gentrifying that. they failed to make it a big deal btw so I'm correct on this one.

lobster: 6/10. gets this score for lobster freaks who spent decades studying how to make this big shrimp taste better and furiously honed their craft with cheese and butter and garlic. 80% of lobster experiences happen at the hands of those people, so the median score averages out at pretty ok. I am, however, lactose intolerant, and thus unwelcomed by these lobster zealots. this, combined with lobster being a luxury food, lowers the score to slightly above passing grade.

snake: 5/10. literally the only impression it left me with was that it was snake meat ooh how rare and cool. texturally more pleasant than eel and more versatile, but that ends up landing it squarely in the “utterly unremarkable” zone. at least now I’m pretty confident I would bite a chunk off a snake if I’m ever lost in a jungle with no way out. passing grade for the worth of information.

horse: 7/10. has the taste depth of deer, but with the texture of beef when simmered for a long time. literally had this first time today so my experience with it is extremely limited, but I can't really imagine it being easy to chew if roasted. two outstanding features are that the fat is really nice to eat even in larger pieces, and the blood cooks into a texturally acceptable jelly, which is not the case with any other animal blood for me. score may be up to change in the future as well.

mantis shrimp: 8/10. lobster wishes it has the playful zeal and easy-going nature of mantis shrimp. the amount of paperwork required to enjoy mantis shrimp is half of shrimp's or crab's, and texture-wise it's just better. literally crack this one in half like a flip phone and put some salt and lime on it, that's a treat. so far the gold standard for shelled seafood. only gets an eight because I don't really think about eating it every day, but I have hope this can be turned around in a shocking and life-changing event as well.

anchovy: this one doesn't get a score due to its ritualistic importance. really is included here because I ritually cleaned and cooked way too many of these so a job I was gunning for could go through successfully. it worked btw. still don't know if I recommend it

#bakuspeech #cw: food #cw: meat #obvious disclaimer I dont make it a business to repeat previously proven to be unpleasant experiences #so some of these I limit my exposure to as much as possible on purpose. #hi. Im at my grandparents place. its dark in here #not getting to work on what Im supposed to for a whole weekend is making me antsy #I think I will be able to chip off something for prep during the course of this. but its not gonna be much #anyways Im bored as shit and new food experience dropped today so I guess I sat down and wrote this up #happy solar new year in like a day. hey if you have a new year meal with some meat enjoy it yeah? #cherish the protein. we can learn to love ourselves through loving the meat. and the green and the starch and the spices #have a good night. idk why I tallied this tbh. I just kinda realized how much Ive experienced food-wise #and yet! still very little in the wide world of meals and treats #here's to a future filled with more....

[thatblackravenclaw]

Pen Pals

a/n: you guys know how Andrew Garfield’s parents are British but he was born in L.A. but he still has a British accent that’s not extremely British with a little bit of an American twinge? that’s what the reader sounds like. also, i go by the grades of everyone in the books so Cho and the reader are a year older than the golden trio and a year younger than the twins. 

Blog Details | Let’s take a trip

Fred Weasley x Black!fem!reader (Ravenclaw)

warning(s): british slander bc im a raging american (RED WHITE AND BLUE MF THESE COLORS DON’T RUN BITCH lmfao please believe me when i say im joking), cursing, mention of drugs and alcohol use, tooth rotting fluff

word count: 3.3k

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“Are you writing to that British boy again?” I hear from over my shoulder.

“Yes, and have you heard of personal space?” We erupt in giggles as I push her away.

I close my notebook and move from my desk to my bed. The foot of my mattress is barricaded with boxes. I look around and see my childhood home become empty and filled with boxes and buckets. The walls that were once painted with polaroids of my friends and family from over the years is now back to its basic color of brown that was painted when I was born. My desk is no longer covered with knick-knacks and clutter. The room is just empty. I’m happy that my mom got promoted so my dad gets to go back to his hometown, but it’s going to be hard leaving a place I’ve spent ¾ of my life in.

My mom is a Magizoologist. She came to the United States 20 years ago for a business trip. My dad is a Dragonologist. Their paths crossed when she came to help take a look at a sick Dragon. He showed him how their sanction work and over time I guess they became close because 3 years later I was born.

We used to go back and forth between Illinois and England for about 4 and ½ years before mom decided to just move here. I guess the distance was just a little too much for them, so she decided to move here and now we’re moving back.

I lay down on the bed and stare at the ceiling. It’s scattered with glow in the dark stars that I begged for when I was 7 and ten years later, here they still stick. I’ve been asking dad for four years to take them down. He always said he’d get around to it.

The air feels dry, and my throat is scratchy. I’m trying my best to hold my tears at bay. I love England. It’s a second home to me. Whenever I’m out for summer break I go to my grandparents’ house in Norwich. This is different though. I’m going to be living there now. The British accent I had when I was younger has faded overtime to an American-British hybrid. I’ll surely be made fun of for it.

Maya lays down next to me. We’ve been best friends since the 3rd grade. Just the two of us against the world. Now I have to go through the rest of university without her.

“Maybe it won’t be bad. The worst part is going to be eating their food.” Her jab pulls a smile to the corner of my lips.

“I’ve heard the food at Hogwarts is actually pretty good.”

“Not possibly better than Ilvermony.”

“Never!” I dramatize the word with a gasp. Really selling it as if saying Hogwarts food is better than Ilvermony is a federal offense.

The dust settles and a silence washes over us. It’s a comfortable silence. Soaking in our last moments together. I know it’s not forever. I get to come back here on holiday, and she can use the floo network to visit me, but it won’t be the same. This is the person who has a key to my house because she’s considered family. The same person who that brings me an extra banana nut muffin every day before school just because she knows it’ll bring a smile to my face. I won’t get that anymore.

“What time are you guys leaving tomorrow?” Her head turns towards me, but I keep my eyes trained on the popcorn ceiling in fear that the tears I’ve been holding back will give me away.

“Early. I think 6. We’re meeting the realtor with the keys at 7, so we need to make sure that all of our stuff gets transported this in one fell swoop since we’re apperating there and apparently mom came up with a spell to have our stuff apperate to the new house.”

“Hm. Have you told British boy that you’re got accepted into Hogwarts?”

“Fred doesn’t even know what I look like. Let alone that I got accepted to the same school as him.”

“HE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT YOU LOOK LIKE?” I slap my hand over her mouth and shush her.

“Bitch, shut the fuck up. My parents are right down the hall and don’t know I have a pen pal. They said it was dangerous because people pretend to be someone they’re not, but what the hell?”

She pushes my hand off of her mouth and sits up. Her back meets my headboard and she straight ahead at the door.

“Do you know what he looks like?”

I nod my head yes before rolling off of the bed. I feel to the last page of my journal and find and find a polaroid of him and his brother George from when they went to something called The Quidditch World Cup. I do a quick look over before making my way back to the bed and offering my hand to Maya. She looks at the picture and you can almost see her eyes bulging out of their sockets.

“He has a twin brother?”

“No it’s just someone he met at school.” I resist the temptation to roll my eyes at her comment, but the attitude goes completely over her head.

“Is he single?”

“Maya!” I exclaim with my jaw dropped. “What? You can have a twin and I can’t?”

“Oh hush. You said yourself that you don’t even date white boys.”

“That was before I saw this one. Besides, he’s a ginger so he’s exempt from that statement.”

“I’m really going to miss you Maya.” We make eye contact for the first time in a while and her eyes soften.

“I’m gonna miss you too Angel.”

She looks down at her watch and tells me that it’s fifteen minutes to ten meaning it’s almost curfew. We share one last tearful goodbye as she walks out of my bedroom door for the last time.

.          .          .

Sure enough, at 5:45 my dad woke me up and told me it was time to get ready to leave. I had taken one last look around my room and made my way downstairs to meet my mother so we could all leave. Right as the clock struck 6, my parents let me grab the powder and be the first to see our new home.

I stood in the foyer and tried to convince myself that it isn’t the best house I’ve ever seen. It’s got a cottage core vibe going on, on the outside. It’s cozy, but big enough for all of us. I wanted so badly not to like it. We went to the backyard and there’s a small river filled with a family of ducks. To the right there’s something that looks like a shack, but bigger. My parents then explained to me it’s my own apartment. That’s when the smile broke across my face. I was finally getting my own space.

The house tour didn’t last long due to the tight schedule we are on. I ended up just waving my wand and letting the magic unpack my stuff as we were right back in the fireplace. Why? Because tomorrow is the first day of school and I have not done any school shopping. The stuff on the list differs a little bit from the shopping list we had for Ilvermony so dad thought it best to wait until we got here. We had to go to Diagon Alley anyway for everyone to open up a bank account.

Now, I’m standing in Madam Malkin’s getting measured for everything. Once I’ve been basically poked and prodded all over my body with clothes pins, I stare out the window and watch everything and everyone pass by. As if someone had played a slow potion button, I see a whole family of red heads walk down the cobblestone and sure enough one of them is Fred. I snap my head down and try to cover my face with my hair. I don’t know why I did that. Once again, he has no idea what I look like.

“All done. You can step down now.” I look over to Madam Malkin and grab my uniform and robe out of her hands. I thank her and rush out the door. Thankfully my parents are done with their list too so we decide to go home.

.          .          .

The next 18 hours go by quick. I didn’t get a chance to really enjoy my apartment or decorate it due to packing up my trunk since we once again left early in the morning for transportation.

The train ride was painfully boring. No one told me how long it is from England to Scotland. I sat with some mundane people whose names I don’t remember. They were also half asleep and exchanged pleasantries only out of politeness. We bought some stuff off of the trolley and then went back to our own worlds.

At one point it became a little suffocating and I needed to pee so I got up and started walking through the cars when I heard a “Have you heard from her yet, Fred,”. I had stopped before becoming visible to their compartment. He told them no and that he was a little worried. That’s when I remembered that Maya distracted me so I never got to finish the letter.

At the moment, I’m standing at the front of the line of 1st years because I’m new as well but I’m older so I get to get sorted first. My hood is up and I’m looking at the ground, suddenly interested in my shoes. Professor McGonagall informs everyone that I’m a new student from the American wizarding school and I feel my face heat up, knowing the amount of comments I’m about to get from everyone.

She calls my name and I carefully walk up the stairs. At this point my hood is still up so no one has gotten a clear view of my face. I want to do a big reveal of sorts. I sit down and let the hood slide from off of my head. There’s gasps from all across the hall. Some whistles from a few guys. Whispers from a few girls. A handful of people conveyed nonchalant expressions which I greatly appreciate over being fawned over. My eyes gravitate toward the Gryffindor table and I catch Fred already looking at me. His friends are nudging him with an elbow while also looking at me. I guess that answers the question of if he told his friends about me or not. I can’t decipher how he feels, but the adoration on his face calms my nerves enough.

I break our eye contact to look back down at the floor as not to fall off of the stool. I make haste to the Ravenclaw table. I greet everybody and they instantly start asking questions. I laugh as I can’t understand them all at once, but it’s funny hearing them squabble like seagulls. A hand is placed over mine and I look in the direction of where it came from. A beautiful Asian girl gives me a small smile.

“Hi y/n, my name is Cho.” I return the smile and tell her that it’s nice to meet her. A silence washes over the table. I become befuddled and look around to distinguish if I did or said something wrong.

“I thought you were American?” Someone says from the other side of the table. I don’t catch sight of who said it, but respond, nonetheless.

“I am. Well, I’m half. My mom is American and my dad is British. I was born in Manchester but was raised in America.”

An understanding nod is shared amongst the table in hearing vicinity and the conversation ceases as someone else is sorted into Ravenclaw.

.          .

After dinner the prefects give the first years a quick tour of the castle and show them to their houses. Cho snuck me with the other 5th years. I’m thankful as I far from want to be touring the castle with a bunch of children. Besides, I have a map of the school and I’ve created a spell that can bewitch the map to help me find my classes.

We make our way up the many staircases and are faced with a large door with an Eagle head as the knocker.

“The only way to enter the common room is by answering a riddle. If you get it wrong, then you have to stand here until someone else comes and says the correct answer or until someone from the inside opens the door.” She says to me. I nod my head in understanding.

“Wanna try it?” Another Ravenclaw asks me. A male. I believe his name is Talbott. I nod my head again and step closer to the door.

“When young, I am sweet in the sun. When middle-aged, I make you gay. When old, I am valued more than ever. What am I?” The voice bellows as the Eagle moves its beak. It shakes my core a little bit.

I look around at the other Ravenclaws. Some with quizzical brows. Some with a knowing look. Others just looking and awaiting my answer. The answer would have caught me up if it weren’t for the last clue; “When old, I am more valued than ever.”

“Wine.” There’s a click sound as if unlocking a lock, and the door slowly opens. Smalls cheers are shared as we walk in.

I’m stuck at the entrance of the threshold inside by the sight in front of me. It’s probably the most gorgeous room I’ve ever seen. The ceiling is coved and gives the illusion of a clear night sky. Stars litter the ceiling and give off the effect of actual twinkling. A blue velvet couch sits in front of a fire, with matching chairs on either side. What really catches my attention is the enormous statue of Rowena Ravenclaw in front of a bookcase. We never had anything like this at Ilvermony. Our emblem was a serpent and we would just have those displayed in various parts of the common room. I watch as everyone goes to various parts of the room while some go behind the bookcase. Cho grabs my hand and also brings me behind the staircase. She shows me that behind this staircase is where the dorms and bathrooms are. I follow her up the staircase and to a dorm. The rooms inferior to the common room but not any less gorgeous. The beds align with the wall as each dorm is in the shape of a tower.

“I see you got the middle bed. Seems fitting as you’re new.” No malice in her tone, though I can see in some way it might have seemed like it.

I sit on the bed and exhale. Truly exhale. This whole journey has been happening too fast. Now that I’m sorted into a house, everything else seems easy. I went over my schedule with Cho and we have all the same classes except Defense Against The Dark Arts. I guess I’ll survive one class without her.

“Well come on lazy bones.” A different girls says to me. Anastasia I believe.

“What?” I sit back up and ask with pure curiosity.

“It’s time to get ready for the party.”

“What party?”

.          .

The beginning of the year party. The party where everybody gets blacked out and regrets it in the morning since we start classes at 8 am.

I believe I heard someone earlier yell about flower. A Hufflepuff I believe. I had put on the sluttiest thing I owned and made my way down to the party with everyone else. None of us wear heels, as not to be caught by the caretaker.

The party is in full swing when we open the door the ballroom. The lights are dimmed, but the strobes of light are pungent. We barely make it to the drink table without bumping into everyone on the way. At the drink table is a tall red head with another tall read head which I can only assume is me about to be dealing with the consequences of my own actions.

“Excuse us,” Cho exclaims at the two while trying to push our way to the punch bowl. They look our way and go to move but freeze when they set their eyes on me.

“Y/n?” Fred asks/yells.

“In the flesh,” I yell back.

His smile reaches his eyes as he pulls me in a hug. My face in brought into an awkward place where it’s not quite his chest but not quite his stomach either. I wrap my arms around his middle and hug him back. He smells like cinnamon. I welcome in the scent as we hug for a few more seconds. I can only imagine what Cho is thinking right now.

We pull back at the same time and he begins to speak again. I can’t really hear him over the noise of the ballroom. I look in the direction of the entrance of the room and point to it. He nods his head and we walk towards it, hand in hand.

The door closes behind us but we still stood with our hands intwined.

“Pen pals for 4 years and you didn’t tell me you were transferring.” He exclaims while keeping his voice down.

“I wanted to surprise you.” I say sheepishly.

“Considered me surprised.” He smiled no longer reaches his cheeks but its more somber.

We hear footsteps coming from the far end of the corridor. He pulls me and we start running. I don’t know where we’re going but I trust him. A giggle threatens to out my mouth as we are going up the maze of stairs.

After what feel like forever, we make it to the floor that the Ravenclaw tower is on. I see that Gryffindor is also on this floor. In the middle of both is a spiral staircase. Great. More stairs. He leads us up to a room that looks like a classroom with multiple astronomy tools and an openness to the outside.

“Welcome to the Astronomy classroom.” I unknowingly let go of his hand as I look around in amazement. There’s a celestial sphere with all the constellations on it. A fancy telescope by the balcony. It’s quite literally the Ravenclaw common room in classroom form.

“Gods, this place is gorgeous.” I walk onto the balcony and stare up at the sky. All the stars twinkle and the moon is full.

“As are you.” I turn my body around and face him. He walks up next to me without breaking eye contact.

“Not a disappointment, am I?”

“Only a little. I expect more of an American accent.” I laugh at this before looking down at my shoes.

“You and everyone else. It’s there a little bit with certain words and phrases.”

.          .

I sit on the ledge and we talk for a bit. Not much to tell considering I know almost everything about him and vice versa. We talk about school and the people here which eventually leads to the topic of dating.

“Anyone here you fancy yet?”

“You could say that.” I look into his eyes and see if he’s able to read in between the lines.

He leans in and I hear my breath hitch. My fingers grip the railing. His eyes jump to my lips and back to my eyes.

“Who is it?” We both know.

“He’s in Gryffindor. Tall red head with freckles. His brothers are also in Gryffindor.” We inch closer.

“I might know him. What’s his name?” 3 inches apart.

“Ron.” He rolls his eyes at the answer with a chuckle.

“Shut up,” and then he kissed me.

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Fred Masterlist | United Kingdom

#fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fic #fred weasley x reader #fred weasely x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x ravenclaw!reader #fred weasley x black!reader #ravenclaw!reader #ravenclaw reader #black!reader #black reader #fred weasley fluff #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter fic #harry potter fluff

[kinnenvy]

qaf wip #1

victorian qaf wip, im 💀. like i was saying idk if i'll ever finish this, but here's a little snippet just to feel something

Dripping. Continuous, incessant, tormenting.

The steady, wet sound echoes through the room and fills the blissfully silent air, it sneaks past any barrier Justin crafts. His hands on his ears, his pillows, then his covers, the weight and width of his shield can do nothing against the quiet drip, drip, drip…

Justin quickly surrenders to watching the water fall from the roof of his room and land loudly in the tin bucket prepared to welcome it. It's unbearable and Justin misses home, misses his room. He misses the comfort of his sturdy mattress, his feather pillows and the maids making sure the stoves warming the rooms never run out of wood and coal.

Justin breathes out slowly, if he had any energy left he would thrash against the coarse bed sheets and throw a tantrum embarrassing enough to rival his younger sister's. Unfortunately, or one could argue fortunately, any will to explode into fits of unadulterated rage has abandoned him the moment his father backhanded him over the breakfast table and threw him, his mother and sister out of their family home and effectively out of the country.

He grabs his pillow, its smell of stale wardrobes and lavender follows him all the way through the large room and out of it. He trudges through the halls of their new accommodation, overtly conscious of the wood creaking under his slippers and the portraits of his grandparents, uncles and younger versions of his mother following him with their eyes as he warily walks in the near complete dark.

Remembering the position of the door he is looking for is giving him a lot of trouble, but eventually he gets the courage to open every door he encounters. He releases a nervous breath, once he finally opens the door hiding his mother. Molly, his sister, is already sleeping by her side and Justin is comforted by the knowledge that they've both had the same idea.

"Mother…" Justin whispers and sounds much more forlorn than he would have liked, "Mom." 

She takes a sharp inhale, almost startled, but she quickly seems to relax. Although Justin can't tell for sure, the lunar light filtering in the spaces between the curtains doesn't illuminate the room enough to let him see.

"There's a leak in my room, I feel like it might drive me mad." Justin explains as a way to secure himself a spot in his mother's bed.

"Sweetheart…" She sighs, "I'm sorry, we'll find a new place soon." The thick woolly covers are drawn back and Justin quickly moves to adjust himself underneath them, "You should tell your grandfather tomorrow. He'll have someone come and patch it up."

"Right…" Justin hums, trying not to think about how many perfectly functional, unoccupied rooms void of any leaks, he saw on his way to his mother's.

He's not sure how long it's been since he's gotten in his mother's bed, when he's awoken by shouting rising from the streets. Despite the coldness swirling in the stale air in the room and its difference from the warmth of the covers, he gathers the will to pull himself up on his feet and reach the nearest window. 

Near the middle of the crossroad on the right of his grandfather's house, there are two gentlemen, dressed in elegant evening coats and tight, light coloured pants. They seem to be fighting, Justin watches them as they push and shove at each other until the tallest of the two grabs the other by the lapels of his jacket and pulls him towards himself. Their faces meet and Justin jolts away as he realises they're kissing.

His ears start burning, his cheeks slowly heat up as well. Slowly, he creeps closer to the glass again, by the time his eyes are back on the scene his whole face and neck must be dyed in varying shades of red, all bound to deepen as he catches the gaze of one of the men. Thick furrowed eyebrows, a head of dark, purposefully unruly hair and a profile sculpted with the same platonic inspiration that used to fuel renaissance men.

The day begins with another tense breakfast, but thankfully Justin's face is not met by the rough palm of anyone's hand. Despite the fact that his grandfather makes it clear he wouldn't mind issuing a dose of discipline through methods that involve physical pain. He says as much as he eats his coque eggs messily, even though his words nail his father as the sole villain, he waves his spoon menacingly right under Justin's nose and then at his mother and sister.

"I shouldn't have let you marry a man without a title," He says gruffly, the grunting accompanying his words reminds Justin of the old, pink pigs, he uses to see every month, when his father took him to town fairs. "My own daughter, a duke's daughter, banished from her house!" He complains aimlessly throughout their entire meal, while Justin's mother, unsure of her own stance, releases noncommittal noises to let him know she is listening.

Molly doesn't eat anything and as soon as their grandfather leaves the table, she cries and asks to be allowed back home. Justin is conflicted, but underneath the embarrassment and the swelling on his right cheek, he wishes for the same thing.

"I need to go out." is what he ends up saying, he doesn't elaborate, but is also met by no resistance. His mother looks at him with concern, but she's so preoccupied by his sister's soul-shaking sobs, that she just dismisses him with a gesture of her hand and a call for carefulness.

His grandfather hasn't been involved with the military for the better part of forty years, yet he operates by its hours. Wake up call at half past five and breakfast at six, that's why Justin finds himself roaming the streets at seven am sharp.

The air hasn't had the time to be warmed by the Sun, so it's especially cold, it pushes past the barrier of Justin's expensive clothes and forces itself on him, frigid like ice and carrying the tangy scent of coal smoke.

Justin is startled out of his thoughts by a door opening, the mansion standing right in front of his mother's family home. He watches the large entrance door, its solid wood dragging over the threshold and uncovering the same man Justin saw the night before.

He is caught staring, it's embarrassing and it makes the calm wind feel a tad colder. 

Without letting himself rot in the memories from the earlier night, Justin starts walking again. He doesn't have a cane and it's too cold to pick the hat off his head and start fidgeting with it, so he tries to discharge some of the nervousness gathering in his body by shoving his hands in his pockets and clench and unclench his fists, pull at whatever loose thread he finds there, do just about anything to stop thinking about the set of footsteps echoing his own.

The man easily reaches his side, they're walking through the intersection when his shoulder bumps into Justin's, he turns to look at him and doesn't do anything to hide how deliberate the move was.

"Sorry." He says without gravitas, his pink lips part in a smile that conveys no friendliness, but snark and other feelings that Justin is not privy to. His eyes, dark and light at the same time, drag very openly over Justin, starting at his leather boots and ending at his own clear, uncomplicated blue eyes. "I haven't seen you around before." He speaks with a thick Irish accent, his voice is steady, but weighed down by the layers of meaning hiding under the surface of each word he utters.

"I'm visiting my grandfather." Justin lowers his eyes to the ground and gestures at the house he's just left. He doesn't dare looking back at it, afraid to see anyone peering through the windows and seeing the exchange.

Long, deft fingers enter his line of vision, they grab onto the golden buttons on his coat and smooth over the forest green fabric, moving upwards until they brush against Justin's chin.

"Oh, a Taylor. A lord, then." He dips his head in a bow, but he sounds like he is mocking him, "Do you have urgent business to attend to?" Justin shakes his head no at his question, dares a glance upwards and feels his breakfast drop so deep inside his stomach that the hunger comes back, only much worse, much more demanding than normal.

The flurry of movements that follow is hard to keep track of, Justin is only looking at the greek slope of the man's nose, at the self-satisfied stretch of his lips as they cross the intersection and quickly disappear in an alley between two mansions. Justin is pushed against a wall, for a brief moment there’s the stench of garbage in the air, until the man in front of him lowers his head towards him and Justin’s nose is hit by the artificial scent of expensive cologne and hints of musk right underneath it, the smell of men he can so easily pick out of any bouquet of scents.

Solid hands make quick work of his golden buttons, Justin instinctively poses his own on them and holds onto the cold skin, half of him in an attempt to slow them, while the other to encourage them.

“What,” He starts and his voice breaks. The man laughs and Justin halts the systems running his body just to gather all his energy to stare and take him in. Brilliant and beautiful, dazzling like the people in songs and paintings. “What is your name?” he tries again as soon as he’s able to retake the reins on his wits.

“Brian.” His voice lowers, it drips slowly like treacle, he raises his chin and squares his shoulders, Justin follows the movement with his eyes and gulps down all the other questions he had been thinking about asking.

"My name is Justin." He says instead, even if the other didn't ask and doesn't seem particularly interested in knowing it. Justin hopes it will stick with him anyway.

"What do you like to do?" Brian asks, he leans his right arm on the wall beside Justin's face, while his left hand still fidgets with his buttons, this time they are the small, round ones cut from mother-of-pearl keeping his shirt closed.

A smile breaches Justin's lips, he is so pleased by the idle conversation, it's just enough to help him keep his mind off the anxiety clamouring right under his skin."Uhm… Painting, listening to music…" 

Brian laughs, it feels sort of pointed, genuinely amused, but still mocking, "I mean in more… Private settings." He explains and his head dips until his lips brush right against his left temple as he speaks. Justin’s mouth opens and his jaw goes slack at hearing someone be so upfront.

"Oh," Justin clears his throat and almost chokes on his spit, the anxiety now reaching heights that cross any expectation he could have ever had.

"Do you like to give it? Do you prefer taking it?" The question immediately transports Justin back to the military academy he's just been driven away from. The hushed whispers of his shy, aristocratic roommates asking him in big boisterous words whether he wanted to touch them over their slacks or not. 

“Uhm,” Justin shifts on his feet, unsure of what to say. The questions are so straightforward now that it’s impossible to search and find in them some sort of innocent meaning. The issue becomes all jumbled up in his head anyway, he’s never really taken or given anything in these situations and he can’t imagine what he could be giving or taking in an alleyway a few metres away from his grandfather’s house.

“I don’t have all morning.” The man, Brian, straightens up, “Do you want to?” He asks, he narrows his eyes and peers right into Justin. Justin is not completely sure what he’s agreeing to, but he finds himself nodding enthusiastically, his hands grasp the other man’s tighter and guide them more forcefully towards his half opened shirt.

Brian’s fingers are nimble and used to touching to provoke pleasure. Justin squirms and trembles as he traces the faint lines of his muscles, the sensitive skin of his nipples, hard and dark pink in the chilly air.

“You’re pretty.” Brian says against his chest, his lips press kisses on his sternum as he slowly lowers himself to his knees, “Wish I had the time to fuck you.”

The word sounds so loud in the early morning silence, Justin feels it echo and bounce off the walls all around them. For a moment his panic convinces him the entirety of the west end must have heard it, but then the buttons keeping the crotch of his pants closed are undone with ease and his half hardness stands out in the open. Anyone could take a wrong turn, or a maid could come trotting out of one of the houses surrounding them and see them. They would end up on the first page of the Inquirer Weekly and then in jail and Justin’s father will absolutely never forgive him then.

“Hey,” Brian says and looks up from where he’s kneeling on the pavement, “Are you still with me?” he asks, darting his eyes betwixt Justin’s face and his shrinking erection. 

“This is a bit,” Justin starts, he scratches his throat, almost claws at it out of frustration, wanting so much what he is being offered, but also being deathly afraid of anyone finding out, “What if someone sees?”

“Who? No one’s staying in these houses, they’ve been empty for quite a while.” Brian arches an eyebrow, his hot palms lay on Justin’s thighs and he caresses him gently, an attempt at soothing him that’s working only marginally against the thoughts rushing in his head. He raises back on his feet and Justin hates himself for having ruined the chance to lay with such a gorgeous man. “It’s fine, dear. Don’t worry about it.” He can tell he’s trying to be gracious, his pants are terribly tented and he can’t stop himself from biting on his lips, as if holding himself back from saying anything more. Justin feels Brian’s lips kiss his temple and then sees him take a step back, retracing the path they’ve followed to find this isolated, secretive angle.

Justin feels him slip through his fingers, his eyes are fixed on the lines of his nose, his jaw, any detail of his features, the beautiful mix of green and amber in his eyes and in a moment he’s stepping forward, “No.” He says, more to himself than the other man, and rises on his toes to kiss him fiercely. It’s clumsier than he would have liked, but the wet slide of their lips is ensnaring to him, the sound alone is enough to make his knees buckle under his weight. His cock is hard again, harder than it’s ever been, Brian touches him again and he fears he might come just with that alone.

Brian doesn’t speak anymore, doesn’t ask leading questions, doesn’t mock and laugh at him. Although he does moan, deep and guttural in Justin’s ears, he kisses him and keeps a tight hold on the back of Justin’s head and his cock. Justin isn’t able to appreciate the scope of sensations he is experiencing, his extremities feel as cold as ice as if all the blood and warmth of his body were concentrating between his legs and in the left hand, secured tightly around Brian.

They stroke each other to completion in no time, Justin feels himself go a little crossed eyed as he pushes as close to Brian as he can, demanding to be kissed, while nearing his climax. Brian indulges him, but he also shifts the positions of their bodies until Justin’s coming against a wall instead of Brian’s clothes. Brian is coming mere seconds later, his hot breath marking Justin’s neck and his hand fidgeting with the strands of his blonde hair.

“Now, this is what I call a good morning.” Brian smiles slyly, Justin’s blood is finally free to roam the entirety of his body and it rushes to his face, showing just how embarrassed he feels by what he’s just done. Quickly they both dress themselves, Justin doesn’t need the help, but he doesn’t protest when Brian reaches around him and he tucks his spent cock back into his trousers, “Thank you for the generous breakfast.” He says and with a slap to Justin’s ass he walks out of the alleyway. Justin is left fidgeting with the buttons of his shirt until he realises what has just happened. He lowers his head, torn between the elation left behind by his orgasm and the need for more. His eyes see a small booklet on the floor, without thinking about it he bends down and picks it up.

He runs, his steps sound awfully loud, despite the fact that most of the lords, ladies, misters and madams inhabiting the houses around him have woken up and have started flooding the streets. Justin is sure he can still see Brian’s wide shoulders walk forward, far from him, but before he can pick up his running again, he is caught, captured by his grandfather’s hand on his shoulder, “Accompany me to the club, boy.” he says in a tone that won’t allow anything other than affirmative answers.

So Justin is left behind, as they wait for the carriage, with the badge of an inspector detective of the metropolitan police in his hands, bound in black leather and hiding the picture of the man he just saw come apart in an empty alley.

#qaf fic #queer as folk fic #queer as folk #britin #britin fic #i have a lot more from this au💀 but no will to actually finish it #idk why i thought i could actually write a ripper street/jack the ripper thing it was insane #but now im super stuck and i hate everything i write and that ive ever written lmao #anyway #fic

[rommahh]

I Carry It In My Heart

Word count: 4.7k

I thank everyone who read part one, it meant so much to me to see the love it got. Heres part two, please comment, like reblog, whatever I just wanna hear your thoughts! I also plan on making smaller blurbs of this universe with fratrry. I have plans for a graduation, wedding, babies, and other random blurbs of their lives. Much love, R.

Part One

Y/N’s drive home was quiet. She drove the whole six hours just listening to her thoughts. Thinking about the future of a relationship she had so much hope for. She wanted this relationship so much and seeing Harry before leaving campus reassured her that maybe just maybe, Harry wanted what she wanted too.

Six hours went by and Y/N finally arrived home. She lived on a very secluded farm with her mom, dad, grandparents, uncles/aunts, and cousins. Everyone lived along the property making the family tight knit. She was scared to reveal to her family that she wasn't with Harry anymore. He grew to be a very important part of the family. Everyone saw how beautiful Harry and Y/N’s relationship was. They could see how close they were and how they just shared a really unique connection with each other.

Getting out of her car, Y/N took a moment to stretch her legs before she was bombarded by her family. Hands were pulling her into hugs, kisses were being planted on her cheek- she never felt more loved in her life. She didn't realize she was crying until her mom held her face between her hands wiping the free flowing tears from the young girl's face. The family left the mother and daughter alone to reconnect.

“What is wrong with my baby?” Her mother cradled her face as she sobs.

“Mommy, we broke up. Me and Harry broke up and- and i'm exhausted from exams, and i'm so hungry!” Y/N’s hysterics caused her mom to chuckle. She helped grab Y/N’s belongings from the trunk and then led the girl into the house. As Y/N wiped the tears from her face she hiccuped trying to catch her breath.

With her bags in her room, Y/N sat at the kitchen table as her mom placed a bowl of chilli in front of her. Her mom sat beside her rubbing her back encouraging her to eat and regain some energy.

“Tell me what happened hon?”

“We got in a really bad fight after he kissed another girl. He basically said that I was overreacting. I tried to tell him that my reaction was merely based on how I feel about our future relationship. He laughed at me and said he wasn't thinking about the future of our relationship. Tha-” She choked up again “-that this wasn't a future he wanted.” Y/N sniffled into her food as her mom guided food into her mouth.

“It's ok hon. Let me tell you something, you and Harry will be fine. It may seem like this is the end but it's not. You will get through this because you guys were made for each other. From the way that you guys know each other's thoughts to the way that you both can read each other with no problem- you two were meant to be. Me and your pa went through our own issues but look at us now. We are solid. Baby, you two will be solid.” Y/N’s mom smoothed the hair on her daughter's head smiling at the young girl.

Y/N thought about her mothers words. Hearing her mom say those things about her relationship made her feel a little better. Her mother kissed her on the forehead and told her to get to bed and get some rest.

Y/N walked into her room and immediately her eyes were drawn to the gift Harry got her. She didn't remember bringing it in her room but there it sat in all of its glory. The gold wrapping paper on the box contrasted with the dark wood of her dresser. The envelope adorned with Harry's name written in cursive.

She was tempted to open the gift but at the same time she couldn't bring herself to even touch the gift. She kept thinking about the moment she shared with Harry in the parking lot. How he made time to see her before she left. How he found time to get her a gift and bring it to her. She grabbed the gift, shoving it into the top drawer of the dresser.

As Y/N lied in her bed that night, wrapped in a blanket Harry bought her, she couldn't run her mind off. She wanted to be with Harry but she was scared of his lack of commitment. She doesn't understand his sudden lack of commitment. She mentioned marrying him in the future and he freaked out on her. It hurt to know that in a quick second, he could change his mind.

Closing her eyes she went to sleep thinking about her brown haired, green eyed boy whose heart she carries with her at all times.

Y/N felt better to be back home on the farm. This semester had mentally drained her to the point where she felt like she had nothing within herself to give. She sat in the barn behind the house watching the chickens run around as she remembered the first time Harry visited the farm.

“No Harry, you just grab them from underneath. Like cup your hands and grab!” Y/N hollered to her boyfriend as he chased chickens around trying to grab them. He couldnt get his hands on a chicken but hearing his girlfriend laughing made it all worth it. Here he was dressed in overalls while chasing chickens.

“Bubs, I cant get one.” He pouted walking back over to Y/N.

“You don't have the talent I have.” She walked over to a resting chicken and grabbed it with ease. Tucking the chicken under her arm, she scratched the top of the chicken's head and walked over to where Harry was standing in shock.

“You are something else!” She set the chicken down, watching it run away. Harry grabbed her arm, twirling her around to face him. She placed her arms atop his shoulders, fingers playing with the small curls of his head. His arms wrapped around her waist squeezing her close to him.

It was a beautiful morning on the farm. Fall break on full blast and instead of Harry going back home, he just decided to come see where his girlfriend lives. They were sophomores now, entering almost a year of dating. This had been one the best almost years of their lives.

Harry placed a gentle kiss on her plush lips. She smiled, kissing him back.

“I love you Harry.” She said, staring at his eyes. His eyes opened wide. He stepped back from her and then started jumping up and down out of happiness. He threw her over his shoulder and started running through the blades of grass like the chickens he was trying to catch earlier. Setting her down on her feet she giggled at his antics.

“I cant believe you just said that. Im so fucking in love with you. So in love.” He said squishing her cheeks together, puckering her lips and smacking a wet kiss on her mouth.

“Ew Harry gross.” she giggled as he continued to place wet slobbery kisses over her face.

Y/N was so happy to bring Harry home. She wanted to show her family this new boy that had completely captivated her heart. He fit in with her family perfectly, making jokes, helping with dinner, playing with the little ones. He was family.

Walking into the house, she was greeted with the familiar smell of her grandma's famous peach crumble. She went into the kitchen sitting at one the stools watching her grandmother whip around the kitchen baking a slew of desserts.

“Hey lovebug, you go out and see your chickies?” Her grandmother asked, never losing focus of what she was doing.

“I did, they are all growing up so quick.” Y/N laid her head down on the table staring out of the window. Head fuzzy with anxiety and muddled thoughts.

“What happened to Harry?” Y/N’s head popped off of the table as she looked at her grandmother in confusion.

“How did you know something was up?”

“You're my grandbaby, I know everything about you. You've also been moping around my house so I knew something had happened.” She took a bowl down from the cabinets scooping a hot piece of peach crumble in the bowl and placed it in front of Y/N.

“Yeah, me and Harry split up. We just had a bad fight that put us in a weird place. He cheated on me.” She scooped crumble into her mouth trying to distract herself from her sadness.

“Oh love bug. I'm really sorry about that. Did you guys talk at all?” Placing a pie in the oven, her grandmother took a seat next to Y/N stealing a bite of crumble.

“He actually said goodbye to me before I came home. He gave me a Christmas gift too. I don't know, we didn't really say much. I miss him though. He was drunk when he cheated on me, which isn't an excuse but I think he was taken advantage of. I'm not mad about him cheating on me. I was mad at how he reacted to me. Like I was in the wrong for thinking about our relationship in the long run.”

“I understand. Can I be honest with you?” Crumble gone now, Y/N turned her body to face her grandmother. She shook her head to say yes. “You and Harry will be ok. It feels like the end right now but it isn't. It really isn't. I watched you two all of that one break and I saw a resilient couple who were going to go so far. This bump in the road can be fixed. Baby that boy looks at you like you are the whole universe.” You blushed at her words.

“What do I do then?”

“Well, I think you guys should enjoy this break. Take the time to reflect on what your relationship was and what it could be. Harrys going to go home and be surrounded by family as you are now, just let yourself enjoy that time. When he comes back for school, meet up again and talk. You both are adults- you know what to do.” You took in your grandmother's words. She always knew what to say.

“Why is it that you and mom always give me advice over food?” You laughed as she winked at you kissing you on the cheek.

“Food always makes people listen.”

When Wednesday finally arrived, Harry couldn't have been happier to go home. He had been on campus all alone and just feeling like shit. Maybe it was karma for how he treated Y/N. His heart felt hollow and even though he saw her before she left campus, he knew they still weren't ok. He wanted nothing more than to just be ok with his girl. The girl who makes him feel happiest on his darkest days. He doesn't understand how he would have ruined something so perfect.

At his gate at the airport, Harry sat staring at his phone waiting for something. He didn't know what he was waiting for. He didn't deserve anything, especially because of how bad he messed up. He didn't plan on seeing Y/N last friday before she left but he didn't want to go home without seeing her face. He also spent all night writing her a letter that laid down his thoughts. He also wanted to give her a gift. He bought it at the beginning of the semester back home. He knew it was perfect for her the second he saw it.

“Welcome to British Airways, we are now boarding all priority passengers.”

Harry stood up collecting his carry on and started walking to the line forming in front of the gate. He checked his phone again. Nothing.

As the line moved forward. He checked again. Nothing.

He scanned his ticket. Checked again. Nothing.

Situating himself in his seat on the airplane, Harry didn't even bother checking his phone knowing nothing was there. He clicked his seatbelt over his lap and opened the window beside him to look outside.

His phone buzzing pulled him out of his thoughts. His breath hitched, heart lurching. Pulling his phone out of his pocket he turned the screen on.

To: Harry, from: Bubs<3

Have a safe flight Harry

Harry's eyes welled with tears.

To: Bubs<3, from: Harry

Thank you, love. It means a lot.

To: Harry, from: Bubs<3

I miss you Harry

A few of those tears tipped over the edge now rolling down his face.

To: Bubs<3, from: Harry

I miss you so much baby

And that was it. But that was all Harry needed to feel something again.

Y/N didn't know what compelled her to text Harry. She knows her grandmother told her to take some time but she just wanted to reach out to him. She wanted him to know that she was still here. She was still thinking of him and still wanted this. Whatever ‘this’ was.

Christmas eve came quickly, Y/N’s house filled with family members, food, and little children running around wreaking havoc. Y/N was sitting in her room staring at the drawer where the gift from Harry hid. She was scared to open it. Pushing that fear to the side, she walked over the drawer opening it and grabbing the box and envelope. She put the gift in her purse before grabbing her keys. She couldn't open the gift here. She needed to go somewhere quiet.

She said a quick goodbye to her parents and left the house in a hurry. She found herself parked at a small store's parking lot a few miles away from her house. She kept the car on for the heat but turned off the christmas tunes she had playing low in the background.

She opened her purse to pull the envelope out. Carefully ripping the top of the envelope she pulled out a stack of items. In the envelope were four photos and a handwritten letter. She saved the letter for last.

The first photo was of Harry and Y/N sitting on a bean bag in the library. Harry had the camera outstretched above their heads, Y/N with her face buried in a text book. This was taken in their first year during their first exam week. They were not exclusive yet but their friends knew how close they were- there was no one coming between the two of them. Y/N had been so stressed that week so Harry invited her to the library to eat lunch and study together. He helped her through some science homework which helped dramatically on her exam.

The second image was of Harry and Y/N at their favorite restaurant off campus. It was taken during their sophomore year during their one year anniversary. It was the week before spring break and they had just finished a round of midterms. Harry surprised her with a trip to her favorite restaurant. The waiter offered to take the picture because of how adorable the couple looked. In the picture they were holding hands, smiling wide to the camera. Y/N eyes welled up at how happy they looked together.

The third pic was taken during an event on campus at the end of their freshman year. It was a piece and love festival where different clubs hosted fun activities in hopes of promoting unity on campus. In the picture, Harry and Y/N were holding up braided string bracelets with beads that said their partners name. They always wore those bracelets after that day. Y/N looked down at the slightly faded bracelet on her wrist. Harrys name on her wrist reminding her that he is always with her no matter what. Cheesy as it may be but the cheap string with plastic was something she would never part with.

The last picture was taken on Y/N’s farm. It was by the barn where Harry and Y/N were chasing chickens. It was taken from a high angle from afar. Harry had her on his shoulder and they were both visibly laughing. They had matching overalls with embroidery done by Y/N's aunt. On the back of the picture, Y/N could recognize Harry's handwriting as it said, “Your Grandma emailed me this picture when we got back to campus. She said that she couldn't help but take the picture when she saw how happy you looked.” Y/N laughed at his sloppy handwriting and her grandmother's words.

The last piece of the envelope was the letter. Y/N slowly unraveled the folded paper, smoothing out the crinkles. Taking a deep breath she began reading.

Y/N,

In my eyes, our future is filled with love. I see us buying a small house in your home town because I know you love home. I know you also said you may want to live in a city so if our plans were to change, I could see us living in a small apartment, decorated by you of course, with bookshelves that towered to the ceiling and many plush blankets littering the rooms. I see us working hard during the day and enjoying each other during the evening when we come home. I see bubble baths and fun new dinner recipes. I see me bringing you flowers to brighten your day from a long day of work. I see us travelling to all of the places you have pinned on your “for the future” pinterest board. I see us having a small wedding, my family, your family, some friends and that's it. I'd let you do whatever you like for the wedding because I want to see you happy.

I see little ones. Direct copies of you and me running around in the backyard as we try chasing them and tickling them. I see bedtime stories and fun days at the park. Picnics in the meadow and swimming in the lake. Catching chickens and rough housing with the goats. Pasta sauce around the mouth after a good meal. Frozen yogurt with all of the toppings. I see everything with you. There's not a moment where I don't see us together. I think about our graduation and where we will be after graduation.

I see a future with you and I was an ass to say otherwise. You are everything to me. I should be doing more for our relationship like I used to. I want to take you out on more dates and shower you in gifts because you deserve it. I love you so much. Please don't give up on me and all of the memories we've created. I want it all with you.

School has been hurting me pretty bad and I took it out on you. I cheated on you because I was too drunk to think properly. I hurt the only person whose opinion I hold higher than anyone else's. We built a beautiful relationship of trust and boundaries and I ruined it for no reason. I want to do better. Please let me show you that I can do better.

I found this poem that reminded me of you. I know you like poems and this poem speaks for me wholly.

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in

my heart) i am never without it (anywhere

i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done

by only me is your doing, my darling)

i fear

no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want

no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

Have a lovely break and I hope to be able to see you after.

Love Harry.

His letter left the girl speechless. He said everything she wanted to hear. Looking at her phone she checked the time.

7:36 pm

Its about 12 am in london.

Without a second thought she opened Harry's facetime profile and pressed the call button.

Ring. Ring. Ri-

“Love? Are you alright? Did something happen?” Harry was quick to answer, looking half awake and flustered. Y/N broke down in tears immediately. “Y/N are you ok, baby?”

“Harry.” She wailed. It was embarrassing but all of the pent emotion she was holding in finally breached. She couldn't stop crying. Harry sat up from his laying down position in bed holding the phone closer to his face to inspect his girl.

“It's ok bubs, whatever it is, it's ok. I promise it's ok.” Harry tries consoling the girl. Her tears reduced to small sniffles.

“I read your letter Harry. It's beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. I want it all with you too. I've always wanted it with you. Since the day we met Harry.” He let out a watery laugh so overwhelmed with emotions. She wiped her face of tears looking back at the letter next to her.

“Y/N I love you so much. I do. I know I'm not that good at expressing my emotions but I do want a future with you. I'm hurting knowing I hurt the best thing that's ever happened to me.” His tears continued to flow freely.

“It's ok Harry. I'm not mad anymore. I'm not hurt either I promise. I think I was more upset that we were done. I don't want us to be done. I really don't.”

“I don't want us to be done either. I really want to marry you. Maybe not right now but in time I wanna get married.” He paused, wiping his face. “I wanna get married on your farm, maybe put the chickies in little tuxedos.” She giggled at his proposition.

“They would hate you even more if you did that.” They shared a laugh and then some silence. “I guess it's technically Christmas over there huh? Well Merry Christmas H.”

“It is christmas isn't it? Merry Christmas bubs. Did you open the box?” She grabbed the box next to her to show Harry shaking her head. She unwrapped the paper and revealed a box with a logo she wasn't familiar with.

“What's this?” He encouraged her to keep opening the gift. Lifting the top of the box she let out a loud gasp upon seeing a beautiful gold bracelet sitting on a satin pillow. She placed her phone on the phone stand on her dashboard so she could have both hands to look at the bracelet. The bracelet was gold and thin with a nameplate in the middle. Engraved on the nameplate was Harry's name.

“You went silent on me...Do you like it?” Y/N couldn't stop looking at the bracelet in her hand.

“Harry...It's gorgeous. It's so gorgeous.” She whispered. She slid the perfectly fit bracelet on her hand watching it fall in front of her handmade bracelet. The two bracelets adorned her wrist perfectly. “I love you so much H.”

“I love you too, I do. I can't wait to see you in person and talk.” He replies with his heart clenching in a good way, watching his girl smile happily at her gift.

“Om bubby, I'll let you go to sleep. I love you, spend time with your family and then come back to me as the same Harry I fell in love with.” He smiled, whispering goodnight and hanging up.

Going home that night, Y/N’s family watched her come back into the house walking lighter on her feet and looking happier than she did when she came home from school. She showed her bracelet off to her parents as her grandmother made her a plate of food. She smiled at everyone and talked the whole night. Her grandmother watched from afar feeling her heart fill with joy at her granddaughter's happiness.

As Christmas break went on Harry and Y/N continued to keep their relationship moving slowly. Only calling each other once a day and giving each the much needed space to heal with their respective family. Y/N facetimed him on christmas giving him a youtuber esq. Haul of all of her gifts while he laughed at her silliness. He did the same thing with half the enthusiasm.

As move in day approached, Y/N felt herself becoming worried about her relationship. She worried that when she saw Harry, their relationship would slowly deteriorate. Little did she know that she had no reason to be so afraid. Harry was on his flight back to school ready to hug and hold his girl. He was ready to reunite and be the couple they used to be. He was ready to be a better partner for his girl.

“Alright girly, looks like we got everything squished in your car. Are you sure you've got everything?” Y/N’s mom asked sarcastically. Y/N huffed shoving another bag in the passenger seat.

“Yup that should be it.”

“Ok, well you give me a hug and get going.” Y/N rushed into her mom's arms. Her mom kissed her on the forehead and left Y/N and her grandmother to talk on their own.

“Bye grandma, i'm going to miss you.” Her grandmother held her arms tight.

“You get back to campus and see that boy ok? You go and be in love. You too are old enough to know what you want and this relationship is something you obviously both want.”

Kissing her grandma goodbye, she got in her car and started her drive back to school.

It only took Y/N one trip from her car to her dorm to unload all of her belongings. She was able to snag one of the big trolleys to push her things inside. She watched as friends reunited, she even said hi to a few of her friends but her mind was set on one person. She grabbed her wallet and phone from her dorm and left quickly on a journey to get to Harry’s frat.

The air was cool but Y/N felt warm from how quickly she was booking it to Harry. Harry, just like Y/N, immediately left his room to see Y/N. Having not seen her in a month and some of exam week- he couldn't wait to see her. Harry saw Y/N’s familiar face walking down the sidewalk of his frat and he stopped in his tracks. She smiled her bright, beautiful smile before running over to where he stood. Her arms hooked around his neck as his arms adjusted around her waist. He stumbled a bit from the force of her hug but stood his ground nonetheless.

She held him tight, legs bound around his waist, a few stray tears falling from her eyes. He held her just as tightly, hands tightly holding her thighs and back.

“Hi bubby.” She said in his ear, face burrowed in his neck. He set her down and reached for her face.

‘Hi baby.” She blushed at his nickname. They looked into each other's eyes and time froze like it always did between them. Y/N broke theri moment by pulling his face to hers. They kissed like they hadnt kissed in years. To them the time they spent away from each other felt like years. Their lips fit together like puzzle pieces. Pulling apart, Harry stared down at his heart, tears begging to be free. He opened his mouth to say something and she stopped him.

“It's ok Harry. My baby, it's ok. We are ok.”

i fear

no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want

no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)

Taglist: marlananicole17

#harry styles x reader #frat!harry #i carry your heart #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles x y/n #college!harry #harry styles smut #fratrry #boyfriend!harry

[cloveroctobers]

CHELSEA ELLE HODGSON —

IG info/Bio: @/chelseaaahodecor | 109k followers | hi babes! welcome to my life lovelies, please get comfy with this Prosecco im serving thru this screen! xx here’s my site if you need some light in ur life: ichelseahdgsondesigns.com 🏝💕

24 (25) years

From Buckinghamshire, England

Comes from a wealthy family

her father’s side of the family founded, “Hodgson investments” their company is built off of financial services

Her papo (grandfather) was arrested on tax invasion & served some time for doing so

Her father, Alistair now manages the company but under a different name

Her mother’s side of the family comes from old money...something about horses?

Her mother, Connie holds many events and seems to make $ from them but Chelsea isn’t quite sure what the woman does or if it’s fully legal

The family is all about protecting their image & if you don’t cut it, there will be repercussions

Feels a little like dynasty (I’ve only seen 2-3 episodes & never finished but get the point?) , maybe that’s why Chelsea & her sister enjoy watching it so much

Parents forsure held courtship events or either went to courtship events with their children (even Albie) & found suitors in hopes of marrying their daughters off (& finding Albie a new wife, only on Mrs. Hodgson’s part— mr. Hodgson seems nicer/easy-going)

Has older twin sibs: Albie-Crispin & Dolly-Georgiana

Often referred to as “the triplet” in the press

Well-known in their city

They’re all called by their first & middle name in their family household even tho their parents do not have middle names

Has a love/hate relationship with albie, he is selfish & has proven to do anything to drag others down to make himself look better

He’s a lawyer & has been married to his wife for about 7 years

Mrs. Hodgson, Dolly, & Chelsea all agree they do not like her but Chelsea puts on a smile whenever her sister-in-law is around while Mrs. Hodgson makes it known that she dislikes the woman, she thinks she’s beneath her son since her family does not make nearly enough $ put together between her & Mr. Hodgson

Dolly has a bf who’s a dental hygentist that she’s been dating for about 3 years but they’re both cheating on each other, she doesn’t think she’ll ever be married

She’s in office management

Chelsea fell in love with interior decorating from the moment she played with doll houses. Her grandparents made sure to send her the biggest doll houses they could find every Christmas. She’s always been in love with rearranging and picking certain items and best putting them into a space that works

She shit at drawing (she’ll leave that to the Architects) but she knows her furniture & patterns quite well

Has asked a few architects out on dates, some she worked with or stumbled across, only one seemed like it could have truly worked...I imagine him to look a bit like Henry Cavill with light facial hair (told you I’m a sucker for it, & Chelsea probably can tolerate just a bit not too much)

Yet Chelsea always has a wondering eye, she gets curious quite often which makes you wonder, is she really ready for love? To fully commit? One day she will be

It’s a competitive field and when she’s ready to battle she will but there are moments when she gets let down & has to pick herself up again

Has ADHD, goes to therapy for it & hates taking her meds. She’d rather stick to therapy sessions since it’s always nice to talk to someone

When she was younger she probably stole a friend or two’s bf & would definitely get mad if they did it back to her but they somehow still end up being friends in the end? Yikes

Hung out with the popular kids, was always at the parties making sure everyone was having a good time. Filling up the cups, directing where furniture should be moved, where the kegs should go, how many people should be there, etc...She doesn’t seem like the stuck up type like her mother but she is privileged & doesn’t realize it as much

Was a cheerleader & ran track, quit track to commit full-time to cheerleading since that kept her in shape enough

Dated here & there, had one bf where they would scream at each other and wouldn’t allow the other to leave or would be upset that the other didn’t come after them...yeah one of those couples

Broke up with her goth bf because he didn’t tell her he wasn’t coming to school for about a week; he had the stomach flu

Canon: Took a computer course in high school & in uni & found out she was at the top of her class for typing the fastest, she now loves the sound of her short pink ombré nails on the keys

Canon: Wanted to be a show jumper due to her mother’s side of the family & their history with horses

Goes to the stables every now & then, there’s one horse there that she’s absolutely in love with & loves to ride. Her father always offered to buy it for her but it’s not a animal she wants to own

Canon: loves finger foods + will get full off them at events quickly. She also doesn’t mind the tiny portions of food at expensive ass restaurants, it’s just enough for her

Takes hair supplements. Probably had long hair growing up that she always kept up in a bun or ponytail but decided to start chopping her hair off & getting layers & highlights which damaged her hair

Approves of plastic surgery

Is part of the itty bitty titty community & got a lift for them

Gets lip fillers for her bottom lip but isn’t a fan of needles + overlines her top lip

loves going to the dermatologist, the spa for facials & whatever else she’s willing to try & finding new skincare to buy

Tans & loves tropical hot summers

Buys an overload of bikinis even in the winter

Hates the rain, it messes with her mood

Loves a good lipstick & lipgloss combo, nudes & pinks are her to go to’s

Fav color is pink

Got herself a guinea pig after the show & named her “bubbly” after her baby in the villa

I feel like she would eventually get a tiny dog too

Has her own flat, that’s quite far from all of her family. She loves her dysfunctional problematic family but Chelsea likes her space from them too

Since buckinghamshire’s culture is more of a Middle Ages style, Chelsea made sure her home wouldn’t hold much of that style inside. It needed to be lively! Her family home was filled with dark wood & she can’t stand that

She loves going to the markets tho. She always seems to leave with something & either finds herself not liking it months later and ends up selling whatever item caught her interest

Her family tends to pop in whenever they want, especially her mother

Canon: talks about cat cafe’s when she’s drunk, says its her version of the chocolate factory + she’s the dancing drunk

Always down for a girls night out, girls trip & girls sleepovers

Probably goes to bed early around 10pm or earlier m if she’s not out having the time of her life, which makes her regret her choices the next morning

All her closest friends back home are a group of girls

Hangs out with Priya, Marisol, & Hope from the villa whereas the rest she’ll mostly communicate with them through socials or gatherings

Will host gatherings & expect them ALL to show up

Is dramatic when things don’t go her way

Loses focus more than gets bored in relationships? She’ll find other things or people to occupy her time which she doesn’t realize can be hurtful to others

When she does realize she hurts someone, she immediately wants to fix it

Canon: Is a blabbermouth. Cannot hold a secret for shit, also cannot tell a lie. Her body language gives it away first if she doesn’t spill it

Retail therapy is the best therapy if she doesn’t have a office appointment

Any spice girl song will be her karaoke song, she is always baby spice

Loves her Prosecco (me too sis!) & keeps plenty bottles in her wine fridge. She originally wanted a space with a wine cellar but got creeped out at the thought since it’s just her & bubbly living in the home

Has high cell phone bills, the girl loves a good chat

Cannot cook no matter how hard she tries. She’s been to cooking classes with an ex, watched videos, order from those food delivery sites to prepare food & it just never turns out well

Will spend hours in furniture stores, she’s had to be escorted out pass closing hours by security guards before & manage to make friends out of them. They all know who she is in majority of the stores she enters

Throws a party every time her following goes up. There’s never not a reason to throw one

Was upset that Carl unfollowed her once and figured Hannah made him do it. Which wasn’t true, Hannah was sure of herself now & doesn’t feel the need to be jealous, the man could follow whoever he wanted—she knew he barely stayed on IG in the first place. He thought it was too shallow

So when Chelsea called him one night sobbing he was utterly confused, he didn’t understand why a follow meant so much

He reluctantly followed her back

Thrilled to know Elijah, Lucas, & Carl all keep up with her. Oh & the rest of the boys ofc!

Chats with Jakub! They also hang out. They’re a bit of a odd pairing but they get along well, he’s basically another big brother to her but she actually likes him—

Afraid of the dark, keeps fairy lights lit throughout the night in her bedroom, keeps scent infused night lights in her hallways

Believes in feng shui

I feel like her voice is soft like jennifer Tilly’s?

Idk what her sun sign is? Is she a sag far as daydreaming cause she does that. I KNOW she has Leo in her chart, she’s dramatic, warm, likes to be admired & appreciated. Sun sign I need help? Maybe she’s a Sagittarius sun? + Leo moon + libra rising

Has a collection of celeb gossip magazines that she keeps on a stand next to her pink velvet chair beside her bow window

I think she will be the first islander that gets pregnant tbh & it’s by an architect (the guy I mentioned/envisioned that’s been waiting on her to realize he can give her the love she needs or prove he can balance her out) or firefighter or someone “manly” she wouldn’t end up with a islander I don’t think

she has a girl & names her, “adore”

Canon: Still wants 5 kids but we’ll see how that goes & if it’ll change, it’s been a bit difficult not drinking Prosecco but she’s got a lovely baby out of it

Crushes? Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Alfred Enoch, Alex Pettyfer, Joe Cole, Gregg Sulkin, Frank Dillane, Charlie Rowe, & Hero Fiennes Tiffin

Can listen to anything that’s got a good beat. But we all know she’s a pop & folk genre lover. She listens to: Astrid S, Maty Noyes, Cher Lloyd, Bebe Rexha, Allie X, Poppy, POST MALONE, etc.

Anthem? Gabrielle Aplin — Until the sun comes up

#litg #litg2 #litg s2 #litg Chelsea #litg carl #litg headcanon #litg headcanons #litg au #50/50 like Chelsea lol #she’s sweet but there’s things that she’s done that makes me side eye her #wouldn’t keep her around my man if she’s single tbh lmao #litg3 #litg s3

[cassnottiel]

(i hope im not sending too many prompts, i have so many deke feels after tonight so im throwing them at you, if its too much ignore me!!) maybe something where deke accidently talks about his childhood a bit to fitzsimmons? like, an expansion of what we know in canon and how horrible it was. like (forgive me if im wrong my s5 memory isnt perfect lol) but im pretty sure he was a slave for a huge part of his life and that isnt spoken about much

Jemma Simmons was having as good of a day she could, having just time traveled and being a fugitive of the law, hiding in a huge underground bunker nobody knew about.

Her day got immensely worse when she entered the Lighthouse lab and saw the teams newest member, and her grandson from the future, digging a knife into his own arm.

"Deke!"  Jemma rushed forward, grabbing a towel and going to take the knife away from him.

Deke Shaw looked up, breaking his concentrated grimace with a slightly curious look.  "What?"

"What are you doing?"  Jemma wrapped his bloody wrist with the towel.

"I'm taking my metric out."  Deke set his knife down.  "Is that supposed to be a big deal?"

Jemma furrowed her brow, carefully pulled the bloody towel away and inspected the cut.  Sure enough, the circular metric was gone.  The work was careful and delicate, and there wasn't as much blood as there should have been for an inexperienced cut.

"I thought you were hurting yourself."  She said quietly.  "I'm sorry."

Deke awkwardly wiped his bloody left hand on his pants.  "It's fine, don't worry."

"Where did you learn to do this with such precision?" Jemma leaned down to look at the cut more carefully.  It looked like it was made by an experienced surgeon.

Deke shrugged and grabbed a roll of bandages from the table next to him.  "I picked it up as a kid.  My mom was kind of like the doctor of the Lighthouse."

"This is amazing work."  Jemma complimented.  "But, doesn't it hurt?"

"Not really, no."  Deke shook his head and started unrolling the bandages.  "I have a high pain tolerance."

Jemma quickly grabbed the bandages and started wrapping his wrist for him.  "Really?"  She looked at him with concern.  "Since when?"

Deke carelessly wiped the blood off the blade of his version of Fitzs multi tool with a small smile.  "Oh, you know.  The Kree weren't exactly benevolent leaders."  He retracted the blade and put the knife in his pocket, smiling like he just made a hilarious joke.

Jemmas hands froze as she thought about the implications behind that statement.  Deke took the opportunity to finish wrapping his wrist and start walking out.  

"Bye, Nana!"  He called cheerfully over his shoulder as he crossed the threshold of the door.

- - -

Fitz sighed and slammed his fist on the door.  Locked.  All the system updates that locked down the Lighthouse were getting very annoying.

"What's wrong?"  Deke Shaw, Fitzs overeager grandson from the future, was leaning against the concrete wall.

"Bloody door's locked again."  Fitzs frustration was abundant in his voice.  "I need to get to the other end of the level."  He held up a satchel full of papers he needed to get to the lab.

Deke smiled.  "I can help."  He walked over to the vent on the floor, slid his fingers between the grates and pulled.  He set it against the wall and gestured to the new hole in the wall.  "Do you have a problem with small spaces?"

Fitz stared.  "You want me to crawl through the vent?"

"I know my way through the whole vent system, I can get you anywhere you need to go."  Deke crouched down and looked through the dark tunnel, then up at his grandfather.  "Unless you want to wait?"

Fitz sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, then gestured to the vent.  "Lead the way."

The vent shafts were larger than Fitz thought they would be, not quite wide enough for the two men to sit side by side, but tall enough for them to sit comfortably.  But, they did not sit.  Fitz could barely keep up with Deke, despite only being a few years older.

"Deke, slow down."  Fitz called ahead, leaning back on his heals.  

Deke stopped and turned around.  "Sorry."  He said sheepishly and crawled back to Fitz.  

"Why are you in such a rush?"  Fitz cracked his stiff neck.

"Force of habit, sorry."  Deke apologized again.  "I'm usually running when I'm in here."

That set off an alarm bell in Fitzs mind.  "Running?"

"Yeah," Deke said like he wasn't talking about something important, "the Blues had some sort of vendetta against me or something.  I think people made bets on how far I could go without getting caught."  Fitz stared in shock.  "My record is four levels."

"Were you okay when that happened?"  Fitz asked carefully.

"No, of course not."  Deke turned his head away.  "Let's get going, you said you have something important, right?"

He did not wait for an answer, just started off in the direction that would lead to the lab.  Fitz sighed, filed away that information to talk to his wife about later, and followed his grandson

- - -

"Ta-da!"  Deke kicked the grate of the vent out and climbed out.  He stood up and spread his arms out to show off his feat of navigation.

"Thank you, Deke."  Fitz tossed his satchel to his grandson before climbing out and fixing the vent cover over the gaping hole.  "I think I'll just wait next time."

Deke shrugged and handed the satchel over.  "I get that.  I usually only used the vents if I was in real danger."

"But you . . ." Fitz frowned, "you memorized the whole layout?"

"You've seen this place in eighty years."  Deke started casually walking to the lab.  "You know how often 'real danger' is."

Fitz stood frozen for a few seconds, staring at the back of his grandsons head.  Then, he practically ran to the lab.

"Jemma," Fitz ran a hand through his hair and leaned against the open door, "has Deke said anything that's made you concerned in the time you've known him?"

Jemma looked up from what she was doing, worry flitting across her face.  "What did he tell you?"

"Did you know that our grandson has the ventilation schematics memorized?"  Fitz walked forward and lowered his voice.  "Just in case he needed to run from the Kree."  

Jemmas eyes widened.  "Oh, my God."

"What did he tell you?"  Fitz sat on one of the cots, the papers of research all but forgotten at his side.

"I found him digging his own metric out of his arm with a knife."  Jemma leaned in, like this conversation was a secret to keep from the rest of the base.  "But it didn't seem to hurt him, he told me he has a high pain tolerance."  She sighed.  "He implied the Kree would hurt him regularly, and he said it like it was no big deal."

Fitz sighed and scratched his neck. "What should we do?"  He looked up his wife.  "He shouldn't live in this world and expect it to be just like his."

Jemma nodded.  "None of us are really qualified to act as therapists, but we should talk to him."

"I know this isn't the place I grew up in."  

Both Fitz and Simmons spun around to look at the source of the voice.  Deke was standing in the door.

"Deke!"  Jemma stepped forward, as if to act like she wasn't just talking about him.

"I'm not naive."  Deke continued.  "I know this isn't the Lighthouse I'm used to."

Fitz put his hands up in a placating manor.  "We never m--"

"I don't make a big deal out of my past because I don't want you guys to make a big deal out of it."  Deke cut Fitz off.  "I know my childhood was messed up.  Believe me, I know."

"Why don't you want us to make a big deal about it?"  Jemma asked.  "You went through Hell."

"Yeah."  Deke nodded.  "I did.  But this isn't the same place, and I want to move on with my life."

"Deke," Fitz started calmly, "it's not that easy."

"You can't just bottle everything away and expect to be fine."  Jemma added.  

"I'm very good at compartmentalizing."  Deke crossed his arms.

"Compartmentalization isn't good for you."  Fitz said.  "Trust me, it's not."

Deke sighed.  "If you knew what it was like to grow up in this place, you wouldn't want to think about it either."

Jemma walked over and placed her hand on her grandsons shoulder.  "There are some things in life you have to face to move past."

"I am moving past things."  Deke said stubbornly.  "I'm making new, better memories where all the bad things in my life happened."

"Trauma doesn't work like that, Deke."  Fitz said as gently as he could.

Deke ran both his hands through his hair with a deep sigh.  "I shouldn't have said anything."  He stood up and turned to the door.

"Deke, wait."  Jemma grabbed his left arm.  "You don't have to forget everything about your past or reinvent yourself."

"But I want to."  Deke said very clearly.  "Kasius owned me, and I don't want to feel like his property anymore."

Jemma made sure keep her voice calm, she didn't want to escalate this.  "We've seen what he did, we know--"

"No, you don't know."  Deke snapped.  "He literally owned me.  After my dad was sent to the surface, Kasius and Sinara wanted to groom me into one of their deaf servants."

Jemma and Fitz looked at each other, then back at their grandson.

"You know what it's like."  He looked to Jemma.  "Having that-- that-- that thing in my ear is one of the worst things that's ever happened to me."

"You've had it?"  Jemmas voice went quiet.  "How old were you?"

"I was fourteen."  The fire in Dekes eyes never dampened.  "So, forgive me if I want to forget that part of my life."

"Deke," Fitz said slowly, reaching out, "you don't need to keep going, we understand."

Deke sighed again, more aggressively, showing the frustration he was feeling.  "Do you?"  He asked.  "You all were there for a few weeks, maybe.  I was born there, raised there.  I spent the first twenty-eight years of my life in that apocalyptic hellscape!"  He gestured wildly around the room.  "And I'm still here!  Even when there's a rest of the world out there, I'm here, in the place I watched my whole family die."

"Deke . . ." neither grandparent knew how to handle this.  It seemed that this was the first time he got to really talk about his past traumas in a serious way.

Deke sat down on one of the cots tiredly.  "I watched you both die."  He whispered, his eyes glassy with unshed tears.

"What?!"  Jemma was at his side in seconds, Fitz not far behind.

"When I was nine, Kasius got rid of everyone who believed in the prophecy.  All the smart people."  Deke forced himself to steady his breath and closed his eyes.  "They killed everyone in the middle of the Exchange, to make an example."  He looked up at Jemma, then Fitz, then at the concrete floor.  "They took my mom, and my moms parents."

"I--" Fitz clenched his fists at his side.  "I'm sorry, Deke."  He said quietly.  He lifted his hand and carefully, comfortingly, rubbed Dekes back between the shoulder blades.

"We're going to make sure that world will never exist."  Jemma promised.  "So the next version of you to exist will never go through that."

Suddenly, Deke threw his arms around Jemma and Fitz.  He pulled them into a tight hug and finally let the tears he had been holding in for God knows how long fall.  Deke buried his face in the soft fabric of Fitz shirt as his shuddering breaths shook his whole frame.  Both grandparents immediately returned the hug.  It was a hug from a child who had lost his family too young, had been alone for too long.

As unconventional as this new family was, they loved each other.  And this family kept their promises, no matter how far they need to go.

#agents of sheild #deke shaw #leo fitz #jemma simmons #fitzsimmons #fitzsimmons family #high class writing #high class answers #asks

[zuffer-weird-girl]

Could you please write about Grandparents Day for Pops?

It hurted to use this gif but its Pops so 😭

The man was peacefully reading when two knocks interrupted his lecture.

"Come in." He said while closing his book and placing on the neatly organized bookshelf before turning around and smirking at the presence.

"If it isn't my favorite couple and my grandson. What a pleasure." Kaito hidded his face on the crook of your neck while you greeted Pops with a bright smile.

"We are the only couple in this house..." Chisaki commented numbly while closing the door. Arching a eyebrow at hearing your giggles "What?" He asked annoyed while you decided to wave off.

Pops chuckled at the scene before looking at the boy being placed down on the ground only to hide behind his father and mother's legs.

"Would you look at that, your son being shy after all the stories I heard. I know that you arent a saint little one." He smirked down at the boy who cling to your leg.

Chisaki looked down at his son, lifting one of his eyebrows before looking at you and pointing at Kaito with his palm only receiving a shrug of yours.

"Kaito, is normally acceptable when you greet someone back, especially your..." he looked at Pops for second before easing up a bit with his nod in confirmation "Grandpop."

"Don't push the kid on doing something he doesn't want to Chisaki." The elder commented while chuckling lowly "Give him time."

"He has almost two years already. That's plenty of time." Chisaki said monoustly while stepping a bit far away for his son to stop hidding.

In the end he just moved to be completely hidden behind your legs instead. Pops laughed at that whille Kai's eye twitched the slightest.

"Actually we also came in here because he wanted to give you something!" You patted your son's dark brow haired looks "After all, it's a important day to say at least."

"Is that so?" Pops commented while Kai sighed out loud before returning to your side.

"Grandparents day. When Kaito found out about it he tormented us to no ends that he wanted to do something and see you." He looked down at Kaito in suspicion "Which is why we found his now behavior... out of character." He caught his son pouting and showing his tongue up at him and he merely lifted one of his eyebrows at that.

Brat.

Pops widened his eyes at bit before smilling serenely at that... being a yakusa wasn't a peaceful neither completly happy life, he had his first granddaughter but he wasn't close to her neither his own daughter that had abandoned the girl a few ages ago...

Regret was on his heart until the actual days, especially when his granddaughter ran away and got adopted by a hero... at least she was safe. That's what mattered.

But when he received the news that his sucessor was going to have a son his mind did a flip of exciment, not only he got a great daughter in law but he got the blessing of actually having a grandkid? This was just gold.

He saw Kaito and wanted to laugh in both humilrous and joy since the brat didn't even had one or two days and he was the spitting image of his father. But he was happy no less.

Happy to see that his Chisaki had calmed down and found a good reason to be happy but didn't gave up on the yakusa as well... and granted his wish of him being a fierce but yet noble man... having a family.

"So the little guy did something for me? Have to say I'm flattered." He sitted down on his chair again looking at Kaito, whose was with his (E/C) eyes still pierced to the ground.

You cooed internally at looking at the boy while Chisaki still stared down at him.

You pushed your son gently out of his hidding spot and whispered to him something in his ear that nade him gulp dryly before taking a few hesitant steps towards the elder.

"What did you told him?" Chisaki whispered lowly in your ear.

" 'Go on, show him what you did sweety.' " you giggled at seing his unimpressed face as he sighed while rolling his eyes.

"I-I..." Kaito took a big breath in befofe imitating his fathers neutral look and handed a piece of paper to the elder "I know is not the best but I wanted to give you."

"... Jesus Christ, Kai this kid is your clone except for the eyes. His vocabulary is way too advanced for a two years old. What did you put this poor child through already?" Pops commented while laughing, picking the paper and patting Kaito's head.

You giggled at the way your son widened his eyes and looked at you with a small smile.

"If not teached at a very young age he will be commiting grave mistakes when he is older." Kai commented blantly while Pops rolled his eyes at him.

It was cleary writen by his daughter in law but he knew only by what was writen it his grandkid's words.

You smiled back at him before the man just patted Kaito's head again with a laugh nefore scopping him up while getting up on his feet.

"You are quite a intelligent little fella huh? Thank you a lot for this." Kaito widened his eyes before his natural smile came by.

"Ah so finally not feeling shy around me? That's a good thing."

You caught the sign of your husband smiling underneath his mask at the scene, just before he look at you, smilling up at him, and rolled his eyes in false annoyance.

"This kid is mine now you two." You and Kai widened your eyes at this before Chisaki blurted out.

"I... beg you pardon Pops?"

"This is kid is mine. Seriously, what a intelligent little guy and behaved as well. Sorry but Im taking him."

You gasped with a disbelieved smile while your son giggled, being placed back down again, as your husband was still confused.

"If you think you can atture him... I guess that-"

"KAI!"

"Calm down." He said monoustly whieel you only crossed your arms and lifted one of your eyebrows.

Parcially... he was parcially joking. Seriously Pops don't take his son away.

#overhaul x reader #overhaul scenario #fanfic overhaul #overhaul #chisaki kai imagine scenario #chisaki kai x reader #kai chisaki #chisaki kai #bnha au #bnha oc kaito #kaito chisaki #kaito baby boi #kaito #bnha x reader #bnha imagine #bnha characters #bnha villains #bnha #bnha imagines #my writings #zuffer writings

[ofmerrit]

*  ◜  kristine froseth  ,  cis  woman  &  she/her  ◞  *  according  to  school  records  ,  that’s  merrit  antonietta  unn  hornsby  walking  on  campus  grounds  with  their  usual  iced-americano  from  the ancient  grounds  cafe  .  they’re  known  for  their  long  ,  dark  blonde  locks  outshining  their  surprisingly  tall  figure   and  are  often  spotted  at   the  versailles  garden  reading  wild  geese  by  mary  oliver  .  almost  everyone  knows  their  family  is  worth  like  1.2  billion  dollars  ,  so  we  suspect  they’re  a  member  of   olympus   ,  you  know  ,  the  one  for  old   money  .  do  you  know  where  they  were  the  night  that  the  scholarship  student  died  ?  they  claim  they  were  touring  around  the  campus  for  inspiration  ,  must  be  an  architecture major  thing  ,  right  .  and  hey  ,  don’t  you  agree  that  the  sophomore  reminds  you  of  muffled  screams  into  silk  pillows  ,  the  bellyache  you  get  after  doing  something  wrong  &  vacant smiles ?  you  better  watch  out  h e s t i a  before  something  dangerous  happens  to  you  and  life  ends  at  twenty-two  .  *  ◜  barb  ,  twenty-two  ,  gmt +3  &  she / her  ◞  *

alright alright . it’s me , wrinkle free brain bar from gmt +3 !! so pumped to be here w you sexies mwah <3 here’s merrit’s pinterest board if you’re interested ( pls im a virgo n pinterest addict .. lemme make boards for our muses .. id d*e ! ) imma . bore u to de*th w this intro pls .. forgive me .. i only hav 2 brain cells , this is all over the place HDFJK rip </3 tw: kidnapping, death.

starting w the boring statistics :     full name: merrit antonietta ‘antonia’ unn hornsby     nicknames: mer, antonia, ant, tbc.     code name: hestia ; the goddess of hearth , the family , the state & the domesticity.      star sign: libra sun , virgo moon , scorpio rising.     sexuality: bisexual.     favourite literature piece: wild geese by mary oliver ,  an anthology .                                              “meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,                                              are heading home again.                                              whoever you are, no matter how lonely,                                              the world offers itself to your imagination,                                              calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting                                              over and over announcing your place                                              in the family of things.”

merrit is the only child of the young hornsby couple. she doesn’t remember much of her childhood, according to her grandma, she was the happiest kid. had everything she could ever ask for and more. 

the reason why merrit can’t remember any of this is the beginning of a tragedy — a stormy december night, she and her parents went missing. grandma says they were gone for over five months. a kidnapping case gone cold, they thought. right when the old couple was giving up on them, an angel from above delivered antonia to their door step. malnourished, void of any memory but alive.

life after losing her parents was easier than expected, grandma hornsby ( nee du pont ) made sure merrit would recover from this without any trauma & in a way, she did.

doesn’t have the best relationship with her grandpa, he’s harsh and cranky and too smart for his own good, merrit is lowkey afraid of him lmfao 

she’s currently studying architecture — her dream major was interior design but grandpa encouraged her to pursue architecture to follow her father’s footsteps.  kinda made sense because she’s fascinated by houses .. in reality the insides, the families living there are the real source of interest for her but she’s happy to settle for outside for now gshdjkf

personality stuff !!!

uMM.... i’d say she’s lowkey a people pleaser sdhjkf like ?? making her grandparents proud is . literally the only thing she’s ever wanted in this world n now she feels the same responsibility for every single soul in her life . a torturous existence if you ask me 

can’t say no <3  if she thinks its gonna make u feel a tiny bit better . boom . she’s in .

the friend you’d call to bury a body . no questions asked . she’s pickin up the shovel as you speak asdghfjk unless it’s between her grandparents n you, then *michael scott vc* how the turntables.... sdhjfk shes rattin u out instantly rip

LOVES to talk n listen . fills her heart with joy . a blabbermouth . 

an overachiever . doesn’t sleep much, rocks the dark circles 7/24 lmfao works bc doesn’t like the idea of .. wasting life if that makes sense ??

loyal 2 a fault. mostly to olympus. wld do anything to stay in the secret society / establish her place .

extremely gentle n caring . sometimes ?? its just . too much sdjkf like. tone it down <3

likes poetry ,, especially mary oliver n louise glück ! her fav poem is the orange by wendy cope.

i imagine her wearing flowy, tulle dresses with floral embroidery or vintage pieces idk 

has shit ton of plants but struggles to keep them alive rip

!!! im . terrible at explaining her fr i hate it here ok i hav a vision but ??? i cant explain it

safe 2 say shes having difficulty deciding who she’s supposed to be . a part of her wants to be the golden child for her grandparents n the other side .. jst wants to live her life y’know ??? 

UPDATE ! i’ve realised that by hiding her secret, i also unintentionally hid a big portion of her personality and she comes across as the typical, soft & gentle soul. don’t get me wrong, she is indeed gentle and soft but she’s also volatile and deceitful !

connection ideas !!!

childhood friends - except she doesn’t remember any of it. maybe your muse thinks she’s changed. maybe they don’t care. maybe they are no longer friends . idk 

penpals - seriously ???  i imagine her as someone who writes letters jst bc they’re nostalgic n cute ??? cld be fun.

a home - i kno home’s not a person but a feeling but tell that to merrit lmao. this person’s probably the only one in the whole damn world she’d choose over her grandparents. platonic or romantic, doesn’t matter.

betrothed - super old school yikes. nt exactly betrothed either .. maybe her grandma thot it’d be better if these two were in a relationship . maybe they remained as friends . maybe they hated each other . maybe they kept the publicity stunt ( cue 2 merrit begging to keep faking the rel so her grandpa wld be happy )

exes - a classic. ts this is me trying vibes . on good or bad terms . lingering feelings ? yes please .

bad + good influence - again, classic sdhjfk

saw u at the garden but cldn’t say hi bc i’m a dumb binch - basically someone she has a minor, unrequited crush on. probably knows this person through her other friends but she’s too damn timid to take the first step

a friend from labyrinth . ok hear me out . this is a big deal for her bc she’s all in for her society n v opposed to the idea of a second one even existing . wouldn’t say shes openly mean or .. rude to labyrinth members but ?? jst . wants to protect her own , so this would be a v secret friendship .

a project - could say she has some sort of a savior complex . wants to ‘fix’ people up .. toxic much, mer? <3 anyway ashdjk maybe she thinks .. she can change your muse ? i truly dont know. 

ok final one . its juicy . someone who’s suspicious of her . she has a secret n for the obv reason i didn’t talk abt it, your muse’s suspicious n it’s just . hashtag awkward

these r the only connection ideas i have rn my brain said get tht fire exit door im off im so sorry forgive moi bUT im a sucker for angst : ) so theres that 

something inspired by my queen n savior phoebe bridgers or . folklore ?? yeah.

give me noora / william vibes . the ex friends . the dan / blair dynamic . i live for them ok sgdhfjkl

#hqcruel.intro #oke im bit late .. or early idk asdhfkls #no proof reading <3 if u spot stuff . #baby im nt even here . im a hallucination #sdghjfk .. so bad . le shité . i did this . for what ?? #tw kidnapping #tw death #intro.

[gifted-burnout-archive]

The Morana-Andstone Letters

Prologue: What We Choose To Forget

Word Count: 1.6K+

Author’s Note: Oopsies, I dropped some Harry Potter fanfiction onto my blog... Guess it’s staying here. Yeah, I decided to branch out a little, and as a proud Gryffindor and after seeing a photo of Tom Holland looking handsome I just had to write this. It’s an old idea I had back in the day but never wrote, so here you go!

Warning: none.

--

In war, only the victorious come back as heroes, and the only ones remembered are the heroes and the villain who headed the war against goodness, against just practice and peace. Everything and everyone else sort of fades away into the grey, lost to the story they contributed to. You don’t find them in paintings on the walls, in memorials for the dead, they aren’t a part of the history students learn.

They become nothing, but in some cases, maybe that’s for the best.

For you see, there’s a fine line between good and evil, and in times of war that line becomes so blurred that sometimes people do bad things, horrible things, for good reason. Heinous acts, in the midst of war, become survival: betrayal, deceit, murder. It’s no longer about moral codes or what’s right and wrong: in war one decides whether to be a martyr or selfish.

You choose whether to live with regret or die without, and everyone from the Battle of Hogwarts who survived is weighed down by some level of guilt, of self-hatred. Because good people died in their stead, because they chose to be selfish.

Traces of the criminals who tried to destroy the peace of the wizarding world were wiped from the mainstream consumption, leaving only what authors offered in course textbooks and the heroes recounted in their memoirs. The act was put in place by Minister Granger-Weasley, the first muggle-born to hold the position, in hopes it would allow the public to heal, to move forward. Portraits of the Fallen Fifty were hung in Hogwarts, the souls of those lost captured in paintings for the students to remember who had died for their right to be in those hallowed halls, and for families to visit: it was nice to be reminded of a loved one’s smile, their laugh, even if they were no longer around. Every May 2nd, a national holiday came into effect, a memorial service took place in the Hogwarts courtyard, and Professor Potter disappeared into the hallways of the castle, to walk through the battle he unwillingly started and finished too late to save so many of his friends, his family.

The first and second Wizarding Wars were covered in the History of Magic classes during every student’s third and fourth year, and the young teens were encouraged to write parents, aunts and uncles, grandparents, about the events that transpired, their take on turbulent time in the world’s history.

It was after one of these letters was sent home by a student that a flame of curiosity was sparked, a question posed by a distant relative who had long since left the country had enticed them to take their two closest friends on a quest through the castle one Autumn evening, as winds howled outside and the rain thundered down.

They were swift, quiet, and stealthy on their mission from their common room to the library, most particularly the Restricted Section of the school’s most active study space: it had been one of the few places that was salvageable after the war, and had amassed a great number of books in the years since. They dodged the Prefects and Teachers on patrol, one of them making the comment that the three were just like Professor Potter and his friends back in the day.

The restricted section of the library was still heavily guarded, containing works only seventh year students and teachers were allowed to peruse, but the three fourth years were fuelled by intrigue, and with their smartest learning a few special spells from a very funny red-haired portrait by the Gryffindor staircase, they had all the tools required to pick the lock without triggering alarms, and slip themselves amongst the bookshelves before the next Prefect patrol came round the corner.

“I still think this is a bad idea.” The first said, ironically the one who broke them into the forbidden area of the library. They were met with a chuckle from their companion.

“You read the letter the same as us, don’t you want to know more about the Death Eaters?” the second asked, only to be shushed by the third and final student. He was more jittery than the other two, albeit curious.

“Don’t say it out loud!” He hissed, looking around like one might appear out of nowhere and scoop them up. The organisation had been disbanded after the war, the majority of them thrown in prison to pay for their crimes.

“Oh, come on, stop your worrying. Now, what exactly do we do?” the second asked the first of the three, who pulled a notebook from their back pocket.

“Well, it looks like we just have to find the right book code for Death Eaters… Let’s each take a bookshelf. It’ll be faster, and hopefully we’ll get further than we did last year.” They muttered, the trio avoiding eye contact for a moment before splitting up. It wasn’t the first time they had attempted entry into the library Restricted Section, though it was the first time that had reason to.

The third student had received the letter that sparked the whole plan a month ago, the trio taking turns to monitor patrol schedules and hone their talents for that evening’s activity. He didn’t like knowing that some great uncle or something had fought with the bad guys, he felt it made him a worse person, though his companions had been quick to assure him otherwise. He couldn’t change the actions of some bigoted ancestor, he just needed to be a better person than they were.

As his eyes scanned the shelves on the section’s east side, his wand lighting up the titles on the leather bound book backs, his friends did the same in the west and south sections. They moved as fast as they could, reading titles as they hurried around looking for something, anything about the Death Eaters.

When they met back at the bookcase they had started at, all came back with the same report: there was no title under that name, no work in the library retaining to the information of the Death Eaters.

“It must be sorted by individual… Files on each of them?” The first suggested, the second muttered a soft cuss under her breath in response. They all looked rather defeated by the revelation, but their lock pick didn’t risk detention for nothing, and punched the third student on the arm. “Come on, we made it this far…”

“You’re acting like we just have to think of a terrible person and the book will pop out!” He hissed, the three glancing up as a light appeared at the library’s entrance. They were quick to rush round a corner, the three finding themselves sat side by side with their backs pressed to old wood and locked cupboard doors. Only once the light had disappeared, and the library plunged back to near darkness, with only the moonlight lighting up the room in a weary blue glow, did any of them let go of the breaths they held.

“This was a waste of time guys. We had fun, we got here, now let’s head back to our rooms before we get caught and miss out on Hogsmeade next week.” The third student proposed, clearly the most frightened of the three. He should have never shown his friends the letter, they were far too head strong to not act on information like that.

“Your…” The second paused for a moment, forgetting who on earth it had been that responded to third’s letter for class. “Look, some dying relative of yours said that there is always more to a story than meets the eye, right? Why don’t we find that out?!” She was more enthusiastic after her other companion’s vote of confidence in her idea, though it was rather short lived.

“You got further than last year, kids. I’m impressed.” A male voice spoke up from close by, the three letting out a combined sigh. The turning of a key and the swinging of the gate echoed in the large space, sure footsteps quickly headed their way. The three scrambled to their feet as the glow of their wands welcomed the kind face of their Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Potter. He had a tired smile across his features, and gestured for the three to follow him from the Restricted Section. “I’m so impressed that I won’t punish you… This time. If I see any of you trying this again, no more trips to Hogsmeade for the rest of the year.” He warned, and a nod was shared amongst the three students.

“Yes sir…” The all muttered in unison, starting a defeated shuffle back to their rooms. Potter stayed behind a moment to lock the gate properly, his eyes unwavering from a book on the top row of a nearby bookcase, sliding back into its place amongst the stacks.

The contents of it were too vivid and complicated for such young minds to understand, and Harry left the library that night knowing he had done a good thing.

Documents of the war were all kept, an archive for the few cleared individuals to view, Potter was lucky enough to be one of them. He had read all the books in that Restricted Section at least twice, the particular book he had read many more. There were parts of the war people didn’t know happened, that people had no reason to know occurred. And it was better that way.

As far as the wizarding world was concerned, the people behind the Morana-Andstone letters stored in that book never existed, and it was better that way.

Some people deserve to be forgotten.

--

Tags: @im-a-writer-right​

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #slytherin x hufflepuff #hufflepuff x slytherin #draco malfoy #hufflepuff #slytherin #hogwarts #oc fic #oc x oc #hp fic #the morana-andstone letters #hp au

[mysteryofren]

Soulmates

chapter 29 of So Happy Together

28: https://mysteryofren.tumblr.com/post/619270509137412096/us-and-the-first-order

note: i felt like it was wrong to post today too, but i know you all are waiting for it, and i dont want to keep you waiting any longer. i hope you all are safe, and enjoy this chapter!

 The last day of school had come, and gone. You were officially a senior. So were Matt, and Phasma. It had been the day you looked forward too, because it was a sign that the end was near. The day you met Elaine, it no longer became a day you were excited for, but one you dreaded. You being a senior meant she was done, and would be leaving you behind in a sort of way. She assured you that you both still had until graduation. Now that day is here. You had stayed up late. Both of you did. She was nervous, and so were you. She was staying in town until she had to go to NYU to start the semester, but it still would be weird knowing she would leave eventually. She left earlier than you so she could go to the rehearsal before the real ceremony. 

 You got ready, and headed over to your grandfather's once she left. Her family wanted to throw her a graduation party, but didn’t want all her friends to drive over 6 hours to her house. Your grandfather offered his house up for the party claiming that she is his 3rd granddaughter, and would love to host it there. You wanted to help set up for her. Silence is all you heard while driving. Your mind didn't have thoughts running through it for once, and you didn't want to disrupt that. It felt like the world had stopped. Like everything froze in place, and you were the only one moving. 

  Arriving to your grandfathers, you noticed another car in the driveway next to the old truck he always drives. He must have finally gotten something nicer for himself. Not that the truck wasn't nice. You loved the truck to death. It was a part of your childhood, but something like that isn't typically what a CEO of a company drives. You put your car in park, and get out. There was fog rolling in from the forest. You watched as it slowly creeps into the yard. You walk in, and hear the sound of 4 paws running down stairs. 

“Hey bud. How ya doing?” Gideon walked over to you. He sat at your feet, and rolled over. It was his way of greeting you. Everytime you walked into the house he did it. You gave his stomach a few pets before heading upstairs. You creep upstairs quietly knowing your grandfather is still asleep. You get to his room, and walk in. He's asleep. His body is across the bed again taking up all the space in it. You see a clear dent where Gideon had been sitting. Next to one of his hands is a giant book. You walk over, and look at it. It was a photo album. You pick it up, and look at the page he’s on. 

‘Satine, Y/N, and Elaine. Day at the lake’ was written next to the photo along with the date. You remember that day. It was memorial day. You had just met Elaine. Her parents were busy, and she didn't have anything to do so you invited her on a whim. You all had gone camping. The picture was of your grandmother helping you and Elaine start the fire. She talked you both through it the whole time. She really insisted that you guys work together, and start it on your own. It was dark, and cold when your grandfather decided to do it on his own. You guys eventually did it. It just took a few trips before you got it all down. 

 You flipped through the album to see what else there was. It was all you, and Elaine. You guys doing charity work. Celebrating holidays. First days of school. Last days of schools. Dances. Events. Fundraisers. Camping trips. Sleepovers. Almost your entire friendship was photographed, and put in the book. You didn't realize you were crying until you felt a hand wipe the tears away.

“I cried myself looking through it.” 

“What is this pop pop?” he took the book from your hands, and closed it showing you the side. The spine had ‘Y/N and Elaine’ written on it. 

“I wasn't lying when I said she was like a third granddaughter to me. Satine felt the same. We made this album for you both. Just before she left us.”

“Almost everything we’ve done together is in here.” 

“Her graduating made me realize how fast you both have grown up.” he opened the book to the first page, and handed it over to you.

“I still remember this day.” the first photo in the entire album. It was a photo of you and Elaine in your room the day you moved in You looked at it, and the memory came to mind. You were 13. Your parents had finally decided to send you to the republic boarding school. They were busy during move in day so your grandparents decided to help you move in. you walked into your room, and saw that the other girl already had her stuff in place in the dorm. People were assigned a dorm when they arrived at the school, and they were never reassigned one. You figured she had been there a year prior to you. 

 You had been setting up your bed with your pop pop and mama when a girl walked in. She had piercing green eyes, and rich black skin, that made her eyes appear even brighter than they were. Her hair was in a protective style, and the braids she wore were wrapped into a bun that sat on top of her head. She smiled at you, and you smiled back. Something in you knew she was going to be a good friend. You didn't know it at the time, but she would turn out to be your best friend. 

“Welcome to the republic!” she said to you. Your grandparents looked up at her, and they smiled before continuing to work on your bed. 

“I'm Y/N. Are you sharing the room with me?” you asked.

“Yeah, Im Elaine.” she walked over, and watched you guys work on setting your area up.

“Anything I can do to help?” 

“Why don't you girls set the desk up, we can handle the bed.” your mama said. 

 You both happily obliged, and used the time to get to know each other. That was the first time you ever had a friend. At the school you were at before you stayed alone. From that day on you didn't have to be. Your grandfather closed the book, and looked at you. Tears were still streaming down your face. They made a whole album for the two of you. Something to commemorate your years of friendship. Your grandfather put the album on his nightstand and brought you close to him. You both laid back in his bed, and you curled up into his arms like you did as a child. 

“Why are you crying, my dear?” he asked. He held you close and tight as you put your head on his shoulder. 

“What if she forgets about me at NYU? Most friendships don't even last through the first year, and I'm still in highschool.”

 He kissed your head, and rested his on the pillow behind him. 

“Do you want to know what Satine said to me the day we went on the camping trip?”

“What did she say?” you asked through sniffles.

“We watched you girls on the lake. Your canoe had gotten stuck in the mud. You girls tried everything to get it into the water. You both talked, and worked together. Soon you both were paddling off in the water.”

“I remember that.” you smiled

“You both stopped in the middle of the lake. You had started serving the little sandwiches you both made, and she read outloud from a book. Satine looked at me with a look on her face that I hadn't seen since your father was born.” He stared at the ceiling. You could tell he was replaying it all in his mind.

“She said ‘Ben. I think our darling girl has found her soulmate.’ she was right. I had never seen a friendship form so fast. Your love for eachother was so strong. It's only gotten stronger. That's how I know she wont forget you.”

 You smiled. It made sense. She was your soulmate. Your connection was so strong and instant. It didn't matter where you guys went. You would always be together. Then something occurred to you.

“Wait did you say Ben?” 

“Yes, your grandmother called me Ben. From the moment we started dating to the last time we spoke. I was always Ben in her eyes.”

“I never knew that pop pop.”

“Who do you think your little friend was named after?”

“Really? Ben was named after you?”

“Yes. I'm very close to the Skywalkers. I grew up with them. I was very close with Anakin before. I looked up to him. Then I met Luke, and we became very close as well. “

“I didn't know that.” you wiped the tears off your face as you finally let out a little laugh.

“That's a sound I love to hear.” he said once he heard you laugh. You smiled, and snuggled up a little closer to him. You both laid that way. It had been forever since you had been like this with him. It made you feel small again. Like all your problems didnt exist as long as you were in your pop pops arms. Like nothing could hurt you. 

 You took in the moment. Knowing this was probably the last time you would be like this with him.  After what felt like hours he got up. looking at the clock on his wall you realized it had only been a few minutes.

“I want to give you something.” he walked out. 

 You followed behind him, as he led you to his study. It was a room you hadn’t been in often. As a kid you were told it had a lot of important things, so you couldn't go in. He walked over to the book shelf, and pulled one out. As he flipped through it you looked at everything that was on the shelves. It was all photo albums all of them having different names on the spines. Your mothers. Your aunts. Yours. You noticed one. It wasn't as worn as the others. It was new. The spine didn't have anything written on it yet. You slid it out of its spot, and opened it. On the side that held no photos you saw your grandfather's hand writing. It said ‘the first order.’ in a dark red ink. The first photo on the page was the one Phasma had taken at the Skating rink. He also had the ones you guys had taken at Elaine's soccer game. Pictures of all of you hanging out in the backyard. Pictures from your day at the lake to celebrates Phamsa’s summer program. Even prom. He had made an album for your friends. You felt like crying all over looking through the pictures. He had so many from different hangouts. You assumed he asked Phasma, or Elaine for them. 

 You slid the album back in its rightful place, and turned to him. You watched as he slid a picture out of one of the sleeves. He closed the album, and turned to face you. He held a small polaroid in his hand, and he handed it over to you. It was the photo he had taken from his first date with your grandmother. You remembered the story they always told about it. How he had taken her to the city to walk around. How he had shown her things she never saw because of where she lived. And how at the end of the date he asked some stranger to take a picture of them. Her dress had been a dark purple. Her blonde hair was curled, and made to look short. Your grandfather's hair was long, and he had a beard to go with it. You don’t usually see photos of him looking so laid back. in his photos he hung around the house he was already older, and kept a very clean and professional style.

“I dont think I can take this.”

“You can, and you will. Your grandmother would want you to have it. She would want you to have a piece of us.” you held it close to you. A piece of her. A piece of him. 

“Come now, we have to get  the house ready for tonight.” you walked out while he stayed behind to put the album back. You ran downstairs, and got all the decorations out. Gideon walked around with you as you set banners up. Soon your grandfather came down. He grabbed a few table decorations, and put them out. You both worked together for about an hour to make sure it was all perfect for her party. The food that her parents ordered had arrived, and you both worked on storing it away. Your grandfather had gone all out for her. He made sure the house looked more festive than it had in years. Once he was satisfied with how everything looked, you went to your car to get your gift for her. 

You looked at the gift in your hands. Somehow it didn't seem like a good gift, but in your heart you knew it was. It was a small plant. She always wanted one for the dorm, but your room didn't get good enough sunlight to have one. It wasn't a fancy or rare plant. Just a little one. One that could fit in a small space like a college dorm. You walked it to the backyard, and placed it on the table outside. You figured it would be good for it to get some sunlight before you gave it to her.

 You moved slow hoping time would move slow with you. Sadly it didn't, and with that it was finally time to leave. You had gotten ready at the dorm, now you were waiting on your grandfather. You sat in the living room, and let your mind go blank. Gideon placed his head in your lap, and you absentmindedly pet him. You didn’t want to feel anything. Not today. You just wanted to feel numb. It wasn’t even like she was leaving right away. She was leaving for the fall semester in august. It just felt weird. 

“Are you ready?” you heard your grandfather say. You looked at the stairs where he was standing.

“No.” 

tags: @wumboho @pylopenpolo @duty-isnt-always-honour @wondering-wishing-well

#ben solo x reader #teen!ben solo #ben solo #ben solo fanfiction #ben solo series #bensoloxreader #ben solo x you #ben solo x y/n #teen!reader #reader insert #kenobi!reader #star wars x reader #star wars tros #star wars au #star wars tfa #star wars fanfiction #star wars #oc #satine kryze #obi wan x satine #obi wan kenobi #grandpa! obi wan #matt the radar technician #general hux #armitage hux #captain phasma #rey of jakku #rey #rey palpatine #luke skywalker

[iliketodiesometimes]

Skyway (2)

jaebum fanfic

skyway intro / one / two / three

pairing: jaebum x reader genre: supernatural, romance plot: Jaebum is roaming the earth trapped between two worlds, in a town in the middle of nowhere. Jaebum continues his bounded life, with no one being able to see him, or at least he thinks so until a girl confronts him. a/n: this is not edited, or completed. I wrote this a few years ago

Here's the thing about life, or my life, or what's left of it anyway; it is unpredictable and ever-changing.

Its simple and everybody knows it, but nobody really seems to grasp it. Everybody is chasing after a better future, letting go of the now, when it should really be the opposite. Leave the chase of the future, for a better now, so when the future comes it can be celebrated too.

Because they'll always come a future, and if there's not, at least the life lived so far was good.

One can imagine my words being so idealistic that they become unrealistic, but they're not.

I'm being honest.

I'm being as honest as the sunlight that gently hitting skin. I'm being honest as the tingling burns on fingertips when dipped in melting candle wax. I'm being honest as a person who no longer has a future can be.

All I have is the past, and all I regret is letting go of the present.

I try not to get too sad, about it though. It's not like I no longer exist. I do, but not in the most natural way.

I'm trapped in the human world, waiting for the white light to shine down on me and sweep me to heaven or hell. At this point, any would be preferable.

There's nothing wrong about the town that I'm stuck in, but there's nothing right about it either.

Maybe, being in Seoul would have been different.

There would have been so much to watch, so many people to see; people that I actually knew, and not a bunch of strangers.

A bunch of strangers in a strange town, but there were stranger things here.

There is a girl; there always is, but her- she's different.

Everybody stirs clear of her way, making sure not to look into her dark eyes. They call her the Ice Queen, and rightfully so.

She was terrifying. On my fifty-eight day here, our eyes met and I froze. It was like slithering snakes were twirling disgusting up my spine, paralysing me cold under her gaze.

I was running down the hall, singing Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, at the top of my lungs. She was in class and looked out the windows. Her cold stare rested on me, and my voice got stuck in my throat.

A shiver ran down my spine, as little goosebumps rose all over my body.

That day I had to remind myself over and over again, that I didn't exist. She couldn't see me, there's no way that she could.

She wasn't even looking into my eyes, and she made me freeze. I could only imagine what would happen if she could.

Apart from her, this town was as boring as they came. Everything was constant, everything was repetitive, everything was stuck in a period of stasis; never-evolving. Everything was everything that I used to seek before, but now revolt.

It was my eighty-sixth day when I realised that I had, what one could call superpowers.

I could copy things into my own little ghost world.

I could walk through walls.

I could teleport, only within this town.

I could touch people, but I tended not to because it results in an incredibly horrible sensation for both parties. But I still whisper into the bad bullies' ears when they're in the toilets. I tell them they have a small one, and they're always stuck in between scared beyond belief and offence.

I wish I could fly, but I couldn't.

I wish I could read minds, but I couldn't.

I wish I could stay at home, but I couldn't.

I tried going to Seoul and to my parent's  home before. However, it could only last a day. As soon as I would go to sleep, and open my eyes, I was back in this boring town with boring strangers.

I brought back things from home; like my backpack with all my music making materials. My Simpsons phone case, and my phone.

I like to believe the most amazing miracle is that my phone is fully charged, always. It never runs out of battery, or data. I'm on level thirteen of the Kingdom of the Legends in Galore, soon to reach fourteen. You could say I'm a legend.

Was a legend.

Or whatever.

I try not think about my life before this. I try not think how I ended up here, how my parents are, how the rest of the boys are. I avoid everything that I can about my life when I was alive. When I go back to the dorms or home, I make sure no one is at home.

I can't look at any of them.

"I can't stand the sight of you!"

I shot my head up from my seat and looked at Bomi screaming at her boyfriend, Jung Chul. I shook my head, as the girl kept yelling at the meek-looking boy in front of her.

From what I heard, they had been going out for five years now, and all those years had been exactly the same. They break up and make-up more frequently then frequentation of adverts on non-cable television. Yet, they were the couple that everyone adored, everyone knows they will end up together in the end, and they might.

I spent a whole two weeks watching them, and they were in love. Not those high school ones, the kind that grandparents have. Looking at them made my heart warm, but it reminded me my heart wasn't real.

It wasn't beating anymore; it was dead, like me.

I turned away from the couple and looked at the dirt instead. It was better than watching another episode of how could you forget our first cupcake together anniversary.

Okay, so it wasn't that extreme, but it was.

It was always on the smallest of thing, but they always made up for the same reasons as well. They were a weird couple.

"There they go again." A voice spoke as they settled beside me.

I turned my head, and my eyes almost popped out of their sockets. It was her, the Ice Princess.

She looked exactly the same as the first day I saw her. The first day I had become this ghost. Boyoung's older sister the one with worry and warmth on her face was the infamous Ice Queen of the hellhole.

"Why are they fighting when they'll get back together?" She muttered, under her breath.

"Just let them do want they want," I grumbled back, even though she wouldn't be able to hear me. "Let them live as they want, as long as they are able to."

I got up from my seat and looked at the couple in front of me. The familiar weight returning on my chest as it always did whenever I thought about the gravity of my situation. I wasn't alive, and I wasn't in my afterlife.

I am stuck here; dead, stuck and rotting away.

"At least they are alive." I huffed as I cast my eyes away from them, and began walking away.

"Where are you going?" She asked, and I froze.

"We have a lot to talk about," she smirked as he poked her straw into her banana milk.

"Look," she held up a pick one. "I got strawberry one for you. I heard that you liked it."

The girl sat in her dark blue dress, the ends of her skirt gently fluttering in the wind. The trees around us danced as the autumn breeze rushed through them. A few leaves fell down, floating to the ground, one landed on her lap. She picked it off with her right hand, as the left extended the pink drink towards me.

I was staring at her wide-eyed.

Could she see me?

No, there's no way.

"It's nice to finally officially meet you, Im Jaebum." She smiled at me, softly. Her eyes were on me, and I couldn't move.

My heart drummed in my chest, trying to escape. My breathing felt heavier as the air left my lungs.

How was this possible? How could she see me?

"How?" I asked, breathless. She sat there on the wooden bench. Her hands placed the drink beside her, as her dark hair floated lightly in the wind. Her eyes were soft, but her lips were curling into an arrogant smile.

"You can see me, y/n?" I gulped, my hands shaking beside me. I clenched them into a fist, keeping them still as I shook my head trying to make this dream fade away.

"I can, Jaebum." She answered, shooting me a know-it-all smile.

"How do you know my name?" I shot at her, I glared at her.

"You're part of a boy group, called GOT7. You are the leader, born in 1996, 1.79 meters tall, and you really have a wonderful voice." She fired back, holding my gaze.

"How long have you known it was me?" I asked her, trying to keep level-headed.

"I found out about you yesterday."

"Since when could you see me?" I asked her, quietly.

She bit her lip, as her eyes cast to the ground.

"I saw you from the first day; when we met by the lake."

Anger shot up my spine, as red blinded my vision.

I couldn't believe it. I was shaking with rage, as my breathing laboured.

"Jaebum," she sighed, apologetically as she saw my reaction.

She could see me all along, but she left me alone in this fucking hell alone?

I held out my hand to stop her from saying anything. I didn't need her pity, or her empty words. I didn't need anything from her. At least not for now; anything she says could tip me over. Letting the blinding rage consume every part of my body like blazing fire.

I spun on my heels and sprinted off to the only place I found comfort. The one place I felt at home now. The place I had opened my eyes too.

#jaebum #jaebum fanfic #got7 #got7 jaebum #fanfic #im jaebum #skyway #fluff #jaedaddy

[cassyopeya]

Lonesome.

         That was the word that Maggie had settled on to describe Birch Hills after a week on the property almost completely isolated, save her parents’ wolfdog, Norman, and the ghosts of her grandparents, who seemed to be lurking behind every corner she turned.

         She had come to this conclusion one afternoon, lounging out on the back porch, its wood slightly damp from the rain the night before, staring as Norman rolled around in the fields behind the house. Maggie had left her grandmother’s ghost in the kitchen, watching from afar as she rustled the old faucets around in the big farmhouse sink, a spectral white figure in the dim afternoon light of an overcast November day.

         Lonesome.

         That was the word that flitted through her head as she stood next to her grandfather’s ghost at the edge of the birch grove the house was named after, pondering what she should do with the decrepit fences and fields in the spring when the weather would be better. Her grandfather had always pestered her older brother and cousins to repair it for him, so that he could buy the flock of sheep that he had always wanted. They had never quite gotten around to it, and slowly the wood had begun to rot. The leaves crunched under her boots and her grandfather’s ghost gave her a knowing look, one that read, “Please, Grete, get me my sheep.”

         Lonesome.          That was the immediate thought she’d had after her mother hung up on her, a month after she’d arrived at Birch Hills. They had tentative plans for Christmas, for the whole family to come back home and be together, shaking the loneliness out of the old bones of the house, and giving Maggie slightly more sanity than Norman could provide. Her mother had been confirming their plans, promising the arrival of people into her life again.          “Now, Margaret, we must talk about next year at some point,” her mother had begun, and then the fighting had started. It hadn’t ended until her mother had hung up the phone, cutting Maggie off in the middle of the sentence.          Norman had picked his head up at the noise, and then placed it back onto the hardwood floor, staring straight ahead towards the door. Maggie realized, at that moment, that there are been a point when this had been her biggest fear. That she would be alone, without anyone to keep her company. And now, and now after a month alone, there was something comforting about it. About the quiet that had fallen on Birch Hills when the first flakes of Maine winter fell from the skies onto Maggie’s awaiting tongue and Norman’s wagging tail, her grandparents’ ghosts standing in the open doorway, staring out over the rolling fields of their property.           Lonesome.          That was the churning in Maggie’s chest as she laid awake at night in the dark, warm, alcove of the attic that she had chosen to sleep in. It was a gaping hole in her chest, a cavern filling and emptying with every breath she took. The dog slept at the foot of her bed, and she gazed out of the small window onto the winding road that lead towards town, the only light in miles the light hanging off of the garage wall, flickering as her grandfather’s ghost stared out at the driveway, kicking gravel as he had almost every night when he’d been here, with her.           The sadness in the pit of her stomach sometimes took a concrete form, when she laid in bed at night and thought about calling Wilder and asking him how his semester has been. Thought about reaching out to the person who had known her better than anyone else, who had held her when she’d found out about her grandmother, had wiped the tears off of her face when she dropped him home for the last time. She hadn’t talked to him since she’d arrived at Birch Hills, not necessarily on purpose, but because he hadn’t seemed to ever call her. That was the first seed of loneliness for Maggie, before it had blossomed into a beautiful bloom of lonesomeness. The kernel planted when Wilder didn’t call her, didn’t text her back as often as he once had.          Lonesome.          Maggie had written the text that she sent to Wilder a million times before she actually sent it, telling him that she was at Birch Hills, and that she felt at peace in the loneliness. She’d debated the medium through which she should send it, wondering if an email or voicemail would be better than a text. But, in the end, she had settled on a text.          She had sat at the kitchen table, the entire room glowing in a yellow light as she stared at her phone, the stairs creaking under the weight of her grandfather’s ethereal feet, composing her text again and again and again.          “hey wilder, its me. im alone at birch hills. ive been thinking a lot about you. i miss you and i love you. please text me back.”          That was what she had settled on, after half an hour. He hadn’t responded when she went to bed that night, trying not to think of the lack of notifications on her phone. The whole house seemed gray and empty, larger than it ever had before. Six weeks alone, six weeks into her self-imposed isolation, and she felt as though she hadn’t made any progress. The only thing that Maggie had made progress on, it seemed, was by identifying the swirling black whirlpool of emotion in her gut and labeling it:          Lonesome.          That was the feeling jolted out of her when the doorbell rang, three days before her family was supposed to come up for the holidays. Norman beat her to the door, barking aggressively and wagging his tail, his nails skittering against the hardwood floors as he made a beeline to the front door. Maggie followed, tentatively, pushing a piece of hair that had escaped her bandana behind her ear.          Wilder was standing there, a bag dropped on the step next to him, staring at her in the mid-afternoon December sun, its weak light shining through his auburn hair. He hadn’t texted her back, after she’d sent him that text the week before, and everyday Maggie had assumed the likelihood she ever heard back was decreasing. But, nevertheless, here he was, dressed in green fleece and jeans, a tentative and small smile falling across his lips.          “Hey, Mags, I…”          She didn’t let him finish as she threw herself into his arms, hugging him as though she needed to prove that he was not yet another ghost there to grace Birch Hills. It took him a second, but he wrapped his arms around her, holding her just as tightly as she had held him.          “Can I stay for the holidays?”          Maggie just nodded into his chest, as if she was worried that her vocal cords would betray her, betray the immense relief that had come with not feeling so completely and utterly alone anymore. Maggie let go of him, opening the door and ushering him inside.          And suddenly with Wilder seated at the kitchen table, drinking tea from a mug and grinning as he began to tell her stories of his first semester at school, Birch Hills didn’t gray. Color began to seep back into the room, the pinks and purples in her grandmother’s rose and lilac drapes becoming brighter, the wood furnishings become a warmer tone.          With Wilder there, Birch Hills had begun to thaw.

#writing #my original writing #ik that this sucks ass but #maybe somoene will enjoy it idk #im in a big major rut and have nothing to do bc covid so i'd like to you know #not be in a rut

[freebooter4ever]

color/scent association, tagged by @s-k-y-w-a-l-k-e-r

under the cut because im longwinded af

red/orange: I’m combining these because there is a particular shade of burnt red that is unconsciously my favorite color, over half my clothes feature this color (the other half are pink), and it’s because it’s the shade of my grandparent’s carpet. Both my grandparents favorite color is red and they bought the house in the 60′s, though that doesn’t excuse them for picking this truly hideous carpet color. But it was my favorite place, my favorite smell in the world growing up. Taking my micro-machines down the river of hot lava stairs safe inside the micro-machine floating aircraft carrier was a memorable pastime. The light through the front windows faded parts of the deep red carpet to a bright bright orange, so it really was like fire (and the orange matched their truly god awful scratchy orange couch that felt like sitting on a burlap sack). My grandparents loved this ugly carpet so much they kept it for 55 years and when I asked her what she would miss the most when moving out of her house, my grandma answered the carpet because no one makes carpet in that shade of red anymore.

yellow: I feel like lemon is the too easy answer here, but I really love that JR Watkins lemon hand soap. I’d never tried it until I lived in Nick’s sister’s house so now I kinda associate the smell with that time - clean, bright, airy, plus bonus dog, in a 1950′s brick house with a crumbling two story staircase climb to the entrance that was like a death trap when covered in ice. The tiny kitchen there was like the social center of the house, so many roommates and we all ended up there at various times and ALL hours of the day (Sarah was ALWAYS baking and half of it was for fundraising for her dance company and the other half was always Kale Chips which was the most disgusting snack yet I pretended to love it for her sake) - I met Nick at 3am on thanksgiving day after I finally came home from work to find a stranger sitting on the kitchen floor eating pie. The second place I have seen this lemon hand soap is my favorite organic cafe near ohiopyle where I’d stop and get mayo free coleslaw every time I drove out to the country to sit and write by the river rapids - which also reminds me of Nick because of him being a ‘dirtbag’ river guide for a good chunk of his life in PA.

green:  Freshly cut grass, which seems like an easy answer, but after living away from the pacific northwest for a time I’ve come to realize that the pine tree forests smell VASTLY different than any other forests. I miss it desperately. One of those things where you grow up thinking it’s normal, and everybody lives perpetually surrounded by the smell of pine needles until you move away for ten years and discover that nope, its not. Kind of like how I thought floating bridges were the norm and was shocked to discover seattle was one of the only places to have them.

blue: Chlorine in the neighborhood pools my friends and I practically lived in all summer during grade school.

purple: i actually can’t think of anything for purple...

pink: Lavender, which seems backwards since it’s not purple but I heavily associate pink with clothes, and all my clothes smell as much like lavender as I can get. My grandma on my mom’s side grew up in 1930′s Oklahoma farm country during the dustbowl, and her dad was a pest control man (there’s a photo of her as a teen here on this blog somewhere where she’s in her dad’s truck - the ugliest photo of her I’ve ever seen and the only one where my mom claims I actually look like my beautiful grandmother) - anyway, to keep bugs out of their own house my grandma and her mother used to sew little lavender satchels and hide them in the drawers. They used the prettiest scraps of fabric, and even edged them with lace sometimes. Much much later my grandma gave a few to me to put in my clothes drawers and my tiny child brain decided they were Much Too Pretty to be used in drawers so I repurposed them into doll pillows. But the ones she gave me were pink satin with white lace and always smelled like lavender. There’s other reasons lavender and pink became kind of a sacred smell for me after the Hell Year but I’m not gonna get into that lol.

brown: Those huge wood pilings on the side of docks - specifically the ones used near the ferries that travel to and from Whidbey Island. This is a distinct smell, but it’s not unique and I’ve smelled it in other areas but the Mukilteo Ferry will always be the original for me. The smell and color associated with such things like The Center For Wooden Boats which I grew up around thanks to my mom while also being NOT ALLOWED to sail for reasons my mother never explained (she knew how to sail, my grandpa lives on a sailboat down in the carribean for fucks sake)(when i told nick about that i thought nick would understand i was saying i never wanted to leave family behind like that, not that he’d take it as life advice), and also associated with that one specific railroad bridge that crosses the lake sammamish bicycle thoroughfare which Sanjeev used to live along that I think must have been built out of the same type of old weathered wood and I spent many days running past it, also also associated with the Edgewater where my cousin got married on the same day as the local Hemp Festival so the smell of ocean and old wood was mixed with the smell of marijuana, and tons of high hippies were cavorting through the streets in front of the hotel and the Myrtle Edwards Park (my mom’s favorite park - my dad’s side of the family only liked this park because it was within walking distance of the Old Spaghetti Factory) and the entire wedding party walked from the church at Holy Names Academy down to the hotel for the reception, and we all got mixed up in the revelers. And I was walking with grandma and grandpa and at least five different people stopped to declare how splendid my grandpa’s fancy pale blue suit looked. This was before pot was legal in washington, btw.

black: whatever the fuck the smell of all the collective music events Naeem threw was...so - alcohol? smoke? sweat? weird air? I don’t even know, but I’m nostalgic as heck for it. Half the time the parties were just a black void for dancing but you sure could smell it. It’s not exactly a smell I can describe but it’s one I recognize. Cramped dark rooms, weird paintings on the wall - naked people / black light owl / hipster wallpaper, shitty beat up flooring, crowds of people half who feel familiar, quirky lighting, racks of bicycles hung from the ceiling in one instance, fog and a long artificially elongated room in another, music videos that rarely make sense but are good for something to stare at instead of making conversation (dancing monkeys?), an underground art deco bank vault door, disco balls, brick houses with narrow wooden decks behind alleys to cool off on, snow, and THAT SMELL.

tagging @aboutthatmelancholystorm ,  @lollki , @revolverwaffle bc i saw you online for a min old friend, and @lieblinggs

#journal shit

[furyschild-blog]

hey guys ! ahhh,, i’m excited. i’m nick and i write two troublesome bois. he/him. cst. perpetually typoing. if you wanna plot some stuff just hit me up on ims or you can ask for my discord which i am on almost 24/7. anywayyyys, these are the dets about my muses:

bibbidi, bobbidi, boo ! surprisingly gentle calloused fingers, the faint smell of menthols against leather, chocolate brown eyes that shimmer in sunlight + here comes leon alexander king ( matthew daddario ), the seattle, washington born werewolf. usually, when the twenty-nine year old male comes around, you can hear losing sleep by our last night playing loudly over the radio. not only that, but i heard they tolerate the pureblood monarchy.

name: Leon King age: 29 hometown: Seattle, Washington species: Werewolf gender: Male orientation: Demisexual occupation: Mechanic personality type: ENTJ moral alignment: Chaotic neutral

physical appearance: Short untidy dark hair that is never well kept, slightly tanned skin from long afternoons in the sun, a thin scar at the corner of his hand, and typically wears basic clothing he doesn’t put too much thought to. personality traits: + observant + passionate + loyal - stubborn - hot headed - fearless.

background: triggers: mentions of death.

Leon was raised in a family and pack of werewolves. He doesn’t know when the first person was bitten but he knows as far as he can remember it was a gene passed down generation to generation. Leon was unlucky enough to get such a gene.

He had loving parents and a younger sister. His pack died in a “fire” which Leon knew was a coverup for an attack, no way that many wolves could have been taken out otherwise. Leon and his younger sister survived the attack. Leon took his sister, only sixteen himself, and brought her to the city to raise himself refusing to be split from his last living blood. He choose New Orleans because it was rumored there were more like them there. He hoped to settle in with a new pack. However, that didn’t happen.

He worked during the days and went to night school to get his GED. Although not the most scholarly Leon is really good with his hands. He works at an auto shop paying for his sister’s university tuition. When money is tight he is known to do dubious under the table jobs to get the bills paid.

He is both straightforward and rough around the edges making Leon difficult to be around at times. He doesn’t like admitting when he is wrong and has a hard time opening up to others. He is fiercely protective and at times, foolishly stubborn. Overall, he is a decent guy who was put in a not so decent circumstances.

He tolerates other species and does not hold any strong feelings for anyone other than hunters, who he suspects murdered his pack. Leon hates being a wolf and the burden its put on both him and his sister.

bibbidi, bobbidi, boo ! sharpened knives tucked away neatly, splattered blood caking dark hair, the smell of fire and smoke + here comes matthew kwon ( steven yeun ), the seoul, south korea born hunter/human. usually, when the thirty-five year old male comes around, you can hear bad man by esterly playing loudly over the radio. not only that, but i heard they dislike the pureblood monarchy.

name: Matthew Kwon age: 35 hometown: Seoul, South Korea species: Hunter gender: Male orientation: Demisexual occupation: Hunter / ER Surgeon personality type: INTJ moral alignment: Chaotic good

physical appearance: Neatly styled dark hair, often wearing bifocals, a calm and collected appearance, and often wears business casual. He often has dark circles under his eyes from long hours working and maintaining his various personas. personality traits: + thorough + observant + logical + meticulous - unforgiving- callous - fearless - narrow-minded.

background: triggers: mentions of death.

Matthew didn’t know the world as anything other than what it was. There was always the naturally brimming frustration with the status quo. He is very aware that he cannot do anything about what has happened and that the purebloods were far too strong for any one mortal alone. He hates them, constantly searching for a way to make it through a world where he has become the weakest link.

He has a small family. His mother was unmarried and young when she left him with his grandparents. He was raised in a strict but loving household, skyrocketing to the top of his classes and studied in the US on scholarship during his university days. He never permanently moved back to Korea, moving his grandparents to the states with him and opted to make a home in New Orleans of all places.

(While still a citizen of Korea he completed the mandatory military enlistment that is required of all males. He was trained as a combat medic and quickly climbed the ranks propelling him into a career in medicine. After which, he moved to the states full-time and got citizenship. His 20s were a constant back and forth from the states to Korea and back again, finally settling down when his grandparents agreed to move with him.)

He works alone and often does not kill unless he knows he can get away with it, without having it being tracked back to him. Considering his targets are often stronger than him, Matthew rarely is able to take out any supernaturals. For now, he focuses mostly on being able to protect himself – living with strong prejudices against purebloods, vampires, werewolves, and even witches. He utilizes the skills he learned in the military.

Matthew’s personality is aloof, passive aggressive at times, and he is certainly prickly. He can be difficult to be around, however, despite talking a tough game he is squeamish when it comes to hurting anyone or anything. He does not like the idea of anyone suffering despite knowing he shouldn’t care about strangers who probably wouldn’t give a fuck if he lived or died. He does have a softer side that is often reserved for his grandmother and grandfather, both of whom he sees like parents and salvation. It’s one of the many reasons he wants to get rid of the supernaturals and restore balance, giving them the life they deserve and not as bottom feeders just trying to survive.

#ofmintro.