After I started thinking about the whole No-Face parallel with Dazai I couldn’t get the mental image of Dazai learning how to knit out of my head, so here is a scribbly comic about his early attempts lol

Little Sister

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: one cuss word, minor BW spoilers

A/N: hello! i’d like to note that this takes place sometime before the events in the Black Widow movie! if you haven’t seen the movie yet, please skip over this story and come back later if you’d like! happy reading <3

anon requested: hiii i have a fluff request after seeing bw haha: could you do nat x fem reader where they're laying in bed snuggling, and r asks her about her family and nat tells her and r notices how cute she looks when she's talking about yelena and it's so soft and ahhhh

Summary: Natasha tells her girlfriend about a piece of her past that she never talks about; her sister.

Word Count: 2K

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please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3

Natasha Romanoff has lived a lot of lives. She has been through more than most.

Nat had been taken as an infant by an organization that trained little girls to become lethal assassins.

She was psychologically conditioned to become a killer, having taken more lives than she could count.

Eventually, Natasha had managed to break free from the cage she was forced into and was recruited as a S.H.I.E.L.D agent; it was a new start for her, an opportunity to compensate for the red in her ledger.

So, Natasha took her job seriously, saving as many people as she could, even more so when she became an Avenger; one of earth’s mightiest heroes.

Natasha found something in the team that she never really had before; a family. She found a home within the dysfunctional team she had been recruited into.

Not only did Natasha find a family within the Avengers; she also found the love of her life.

Natasha hadn’t even considered the possibility of ever finding love.

For starters, the Red Room had instilled the concept that love was nothing but a distraction; a liability.

She had been taught that love was for children and it was nothing but a weakness that needed to be avoided at all costs.

She was quite literally programmed to be emotionally closed off and to always have her guard up. Letting someone into her heart was a risk she didn’t want to take.

When Natasha gained her independence from the organization, she had to do a lot of self-discovering. She had never been able to be her own person, but now that she could, she quickly learned that she didn’t even know herself.

However, it was Natasha’s insecurities that truly turned her off from the entire idea of love.

How could any ever possibly love her? She thought she was a monster for the things she’d done. She has done the unspeakable since ever she was a child.

What if she wasn’t enough? What if her baggage was too much for someone else to carry? She didn’t want to be a burden. She didn’t want to have to protect someone, just to fail them like she had failed so many others.

Natasha was positive that no one would ever be crazy enough to love her.

Little did she know, she would end up finding someone crazy enough to do so; you.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

When the Avengers were formed, you were extremely nervous about it.

All of the files that you’ve read on your new teammates were unbelievable; they were all phenomenal in their own rights. A super-soldier, a god, a genius, a trained-spy.

You were a spy yourself, so you knew exactly who Natasha Romanoff was. She was a S.H.I.E.L.D legend, the best of the best.

You were more nervous about meeting her than anyone else. What if she judged you? What if she didn’t think you were good enough to be an agent, let alone an Avenger?

Not only was she your superior, but she was also your crush. Yeah, you’d never even met the woman before, but you were crushing on her hard.

She was drop-dead gorgeous, but also quite literally a deadly force. Natasha could easily take down anyone she wanted to, and honestly, you wanted to be one of those lucky people.

When you met Natasha for the first time, you were a flustered mess. The redhead found it amusing, how your cheeks turned a bright shade of red and you stumbled over your words as you praised her work.

Natasha never told you this, but she was immediately smitten the moment she laid eyes on you.

There was a kindness and positivity that just radiated off of you and it was extremely contagious.

You were this beaming ball of light that lit up the darkest parts of her soul.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

You got to know Natasha extremely well while being on the team. From observing her closely and paying very close attention to her actions, you had managed to pick up on little things.

She didn’t put any creamer or sugar in her sugar; opting for strong, black coffee.

She was kind of a clean freak. If she saw something out of place, she would be quick to put it in the correct place or position.

When she was happy, she would let a small smirk cross her features. When she was annoyed, she would raise her eyebrows.

When she was stressed out or angry, three little creases would appear on her forehead as her eyebrows would knit together tightly; a subtle frown on her face.

Of course, when you began dating the redhead, you didn’t really have to survey her so closely anymore because she’d tell you things herself.

No matter the circumstances, Natasha would always come to you and rant about it. Whether it was about how shitty a mission went or how she beat Clint’s ass during training; you were the only person she wanted to tell.

Natasha had opened up to you, something she never did with anyone. She told you all about her past.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

You had some knowledge of Natasha’s previous life, considering it was in her files, but you didn’t realize just how horrible her childhood truly was.

The Red Room, the heavy weight of guilt that rests on her shoulders, the nightmares that forced her to relive the murders she committed, her time as a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, and becoming an Avenger.

She’d go on and on about her road to redemption or ‘clearing the red out of her ledger.’

Natasha was terrified when she told you about her demons. She figured you were going to leave her the second she finished talking, waiting for you to get up and walk out the door, but you didn’t.

So, you completely caught her off guard when you pulled her into a bone-crushing hug, placing a soft kiss onto her temple, the redhead relaxing in your embrace.

“You’re the strongest person I know. It’s not your fault, you were forced and conditioned to do the things you did.”

Natasha focused on the sound of your voice and took in your words as you softly caressed her red locks with one hand.

“Baby, the amount of respect I have for you is immeasurable. I applaud you for turning your life around for the better. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Your words had brought tears to Natasha’s eyes, which was a rare occurrence.

She was expecting you to run for the hills, but you chose to pull her closer instead.

In that moment, Natasha knew she never had to be afraid of love again.

You were the most understanding and accepting person she’d ever met.

You would never judge her for her worst mistakes; Natasha had found the one for her and she wasn’t ever going to let go.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

Now, a few months later and a year into your relationship with the Russian, you were both lying in bed and cuddling.

You were both watching a movie when a particular scene came on. It was of a family gathering around a Christmas tree, children excitedly opening up presents with gleeful smiles across their faces.

“You know, my sister and I got to take pictures with a Christmas tree once.” Natasha spoke, her eyes fixated on the screen.

You looked up at her in shock. You didn’t know that Natasha had a sister. She told you that she didn’t even so much as know her parent’s names.

Natasha looked down and noticed your confused expression. She reached for the remote on the bedside table and paused the movie before returning her gaze to you.

“There was a mission I was assigned to in Ohio, as a kid. I was assigned to play the daughter of two other Russian spies, Alexei and Melina. It wasn’t just me though, there was a little girl who was assigned as my younger sister. Her name is Yelena.”

Natasha had a reminiscent, happy smile on her face as she recalled the brief period time of her childhood. She looked absolutely adorable as she rambled on about this part of her childhood.

“We took photoshoots of various holidays to make our family look more realistic. My favorite one was Christmas. Even though I knew they were just empty boxes, I wanted to rip open every single one.”

Natasha let out a small giggle at the thought. Even though she had a smile on her face, you could feel and hear the underlying tone of sadness in her voice.

“Yelena and I would spend hours outside, just playing together. Swinging on the swing-sets, looking up at the stars, bending over backward, and getting into a ridiculous competition to see who could hold the position the longest… I always let her win.”

You could see the fondness in her eyes, the longing. It warmed your heart that there was a small glimmer of light in Natasha’s past. There was at least a sliver of hope that she clung tightly onto throughout her time in the Red Room.

“After 3 years, the mission ended. Yelena and I were sent back to the Red Room and were torn apart from one another.

Natasha’s breathing grew heavier as she recalled the unfaithful day. The sight of her sister being taken, and not being able to do anything to help her; still haunted the redhead to this day.

“There were so many men with guns and armor, they literally ripped us away from each other. I was eleven and she was only six.”

Your heart sunk at your girlfriend’s words as her smile dropped. She tore her eyes away from yours as she blinked rapidly, fighting back tears, but failed. You reached your hand up to her cheek and wiped away the fallen droplets.

“I haven’t seen her since. I’d like to think that she found a way out and got a life of her own; a nice, happy life.”

Natasha placed her hand on top of yours before looking down at you once more. You sent her a soft smile when she let out a shaky breath.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I knew that the it was all fake, but it was still the best part of my childhood. It was real to me.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You nodded your head at her words. She took a brief pause, trying to regain her composure, before continuing.

“Even if we have no true relation to one another, and even if I haven’t seen her in years, she is still my little sister.”

Natasha finished off with a big gasp as sobs wracked her body. You sat up from her embrace and pulled her into your arms, just like you had many times before.

You rubbed her back soothingly as she cried into your shoulder, her tears hitting the exposed skin.

“She sounds amazing, baby. I’m really happy that you had some sort of happiness back then and I hope one day you get to see her again.”

You whispered and Natasha pulled away from the hug, still in your arms as her emerald eyes surrounded by a sea of red, a result of her crying.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I doubt she’d even want to see me. I didn’t even try to find her. I’m a horrible sister! I-“

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You immediately pressed your lips against hers, effectively getting the Russian to calm down. You broke the kiss when her breathing slowed.

“Honey, of course, she’d want to see you again. Like you said, you guys are sisters. I’m positive that it was just as real to her as it was to you.”

You reassured your girlfriend, her eyes a pool of worry and guilt. You rubbed your thumb against her waist, the material of your her hoodie beneath your touch.

“From what you’ve told me about the Red Room, it would’ve been impossible to find her. Stop beating yourself up over it. You’re the best, and I’m totally not biased or anything.”

Natasha let out a small chuckle at that and you smiled at her, wiping away the last of her tears. She collapsed into your hold further, shoving her face into the crook of your neck.

“Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I love you so much.”

Natasha’s words came out muffled as her face pressed further into your skin.

“You never need to thank me for anything. I’ll always be here for you, Natty.”

You hugged her as tight as you possibly could, her cold skin meeting your warmth. Natasha let out a small sigh at the feeling.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Wherever you go, I go.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

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Made For You pt. 2

Omg you guys thank you so much for all the support! Part 1 was my first fic and you guys were so sweet. I had to get started on part 2 right away. If you want to be on my taglist, just let me know! This is just leading up to the next few chapters that’s just gonna be FILTHY. I needed a bit of backstory to be satisfied, but now that the boring part is out of the way, I’m gonna go research other names for genitals. Hope you enjoy! -Savvy

BUCKY X READER

Summary: Hydra had just finished training you to be the Winter Soldier’s perfect mate when the Avengers saved him. But what’s going to happen to you now that Hydra has deleted your old life and left you with nothing but a soldier that needs to learn to love himself before he can love someone else.

Part 1    Part 2     Part 3

WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, explicit language, underage reader (nothing sexual happens underage), stockholm syndrome, mentions of family death, eventual dom/sub dynamics, mentions of captivity and kidnapping. violence- guns, mutual pining, eventual smut, fluff, angst if you squint (must be 18+)

WORD COUNT:  2.9k

“Make the Soldat happy. He is my mission.” 

When she was first taken, of course she was scared. She didn’t know why, where she was going, if she’d be rescued. It was a painful adjustment, and some days it was as if the tears would never stop. It’s not like she was worth anything to anyone who mattered, her family wasn’t rich. Just her mom and brother. They lived a happy and normal life. 

She’d guess it didn’t really matter. At the age of 10, y/n was old enough to understand basic concepts, carry a conversation with adults, and she had strict teachers in school, so she knew how to behave. 

What she didn’t know was how to be a wife. Or a ‘life-partner’. None of the Men would ever call her a future ‘wife’. She was training to be a mate. Someone the Soldat could own and connect with so he didn’t fly off the rails if things got out of control. If he got out of their control. Every morning, a watcher would wake her up at 8AM so she could stretch, eat, and meditate. By 10AM, her first trainer of the day would come in and teach her the schooling she was missing. Just basic math and reading, a little German, and a little Russian. Not enough for her to eavesdrop on their plans, but enough to understand her Soldat if he didn’t feel like speaking English. 

At 1PM, another trainer would come and bring her to the small kitchenette down the hall. They had no intention of domesticating the ‘couple’, but she was learning to be a woman- of course the Men would have her start in the kitchen. She would learn very simple meals that could feed a fully grown man, and usually had something light for lunch herself. The men brought her the other 2 meals a day. At 3PM she would have lessons on ‘Womanhood’. At least that’s what she called it. A trainer would come in and teach her a never-ending list of rules that she had to follow in order to be a ‘lady’. It reminded her of an old Barbie movie she would watch when she was little. There was a song called ‘To Be a Princess’, where a poor girl learned how to act proper. Once she started seeing herself as that princess, the days got a little easier. Some days, they would go over how to sit and lie down like a lady. Others, they would walk laps around the halls open to her, reviewing how to walk on the balls of her feet. She learned to talk in short sentences with excellent manners, and how to brush her hair, so she could look more presentable for her Soldat. 

Over the years of compliance, the trainers softened on her just as the watchers had. Of course, they were still horrible people, but they knew she was a kind girl at heart and wouldn’t cause trouble. Some days, she would be made to sit perfectly still with a stack of books on her head, while her trainer would tell her something silly happening outside the walls of the building that became her home. She learned little bits of information about their lives, music, art. But never anything political or having to do with who the Men even worked for. That was strictly forbidden. They would let her color in her free time. Sometimes a watcher would bring a book from his home for her to read, and when she was old enough, she was given a few colors of yarn and started knitting sweaters and scarves on plastic needles. She didn’t have a clock, but she would learn by the rotating shifts of her watchers what time of day it was.

There were children whose lives sucked more than hers. And for that, she was grateful.

When she got older (let’s say 18), the training started to change. She never knew what day it was, or even what year. She had stopped keeping track so long ago, but the changes were made gradually. She would be made to read books on intimacy, and then watch videos of men brutally ravishing ladies about her size. She had to learn what to do to please her Soldat, without being taught physically. This made her happy. The thought of any of the watchers or trainers doing that to her made her sick. And everyone thought it was in her best interest to be completely innocent to the touch of a man when she has her first encounter with the Soldat.

Which turned out exactly as planned. But on the day Steve and Sam plucked her out of her bedroom, she was not expecting the Soldat to be sitting right in front of her. In all his glory.

The quinjet was eerily silent for all of seven seconds before Clint had the audacity to continue the conversation he started.

“You make the soldier happy?” was the best the shocked man could come up with.

“I haven’t met him yet, but I’m ready. They made me ready for him.” y/n said with bright, hopeful eyes. Her words flowed so easily, they sounded rehearsed.

“Do we tell her?” Tony asked Steve, who was getting greener by the second. He couldn’t believe he just got his best friend back, not two weeks ago, and now he has to worry about a girl who’s obsessed with said best friend.

“I don’t think we really have a choice.” Steve replied, taking a deep breath. The whole quinjet looked like they were holding their breath. y/n still didn’t know the names of the three men on the opposite side of the quinjet. Two of them standing together, pausing their conversation, and the brooding man, who everyone keeps looking at.

“y/n, meet Bucky.” Steve said, pointing at the man across from her. But ‘Bucky’ went completely over her head- the name being unfamiliar to her.

“Hello, sir. Pleased to meet you.” She said, offering a genuine smile, but clearly not picking up what Steve was putting down. Clint chimed in again, wanting to be out of his confused misery.

“Wait a second. Y/n. You mean the soldier, as in the Winter Soldier?” Y/n immediately nodded at hearing that name. She knew her Soldat went by that name. “As in that guy right there?” 

Her eyes went wide at the realization. He was sitting right in front of her. Staring at her since the minute she stepped onto the plane. And he was gorgeous. Long hair, thick thighs, piercing blue eyes, and a jaw that could probably cut glass. But he looked upset. Pissed really, and that scared her. She had one job: Make the Soldat happy. And there she was, barely presentable. She hadn’t even addressed him properly, how she was taught. With all the eyes on her, she felt a blush rush through her whole body at the embarrassing thought. But she had to. He wouldn’t like her if she didn’t follow the rules she grew up with.

Y/n daintily stood up and walked until she was right in front of Bucky. He held her eye contact the entire way, still not having said one word during this whole exchange. She gently knelt down until she was on her knees in front of him. 

“I hope I can make you happy, my Soldat. I am a gift from the Men who take care of us, and I am entirely yours.” Bucky’s jaw twitched. He hadn’t said anything this whole time, but his mind was moving at lightning speed. He watched this gorgeous, barely dressed girl sit across from him, and was already in awe. But then that girl got on her knees and declared her loyalty to him? In front of everyone he knows? He couldn’t lie to himself, he’d never been more turned on. But everything about this was wrong. She was just a Stockholm Syndrome’d girl who wanted to follow orders. But her orders were to make him happy. He finally broke eye contact with her to see Tony’s shocked face looking over at Bruce and Thor, to make sure he’s not hallucinating this. 

“Y/n, you should stand up.” He said to her in a hushed tone. Probably harsher than he meant to. He could see her visibly take a breath at the sound of his voice, his eyes followed the gentle slope of her neck down to her breast. She dreamed for years about what his voice would sound like, and it just rolled over her. But she quickly obeyed and stood in front of his seat. He expected her to say something else, but she was silent then. Her previous outburst was one of the few exceptions to her ‘only talk when spoken to’ rule. “What do you want? Where is your family so we can take you home?” He asked her. She could feel the tears well up in her eyes. He didn’t want her was all she could assume. She was made for him, so why was he turning her away?

“I want to make you happy, sir. It’s all I want. Please let me be good for you. I promise, I’ll be so good for you.” Begging was familiar to her from her studies. She didn’t expect to be begging for her to be able to please him, but she would do whatever it took to get him to keep her.

“No. Y/n. This isn’t right. You were being kept there, whatever Hydra told you to do is over. You’re free now.” The tears flowed freely down her cheeks and it broke his heart. She tried to cover her face with her hands. He didn’t want to see her cry, nor did he want to turn her away, but he also couldn’t just let her be his sex slave. It wasn’t right. 

“Please don’t be sad. This is for the best-” He tried to reason with her, but when he took her hand off her face so she would look at him, the contact only made her sob harder. This was all she wanted. 

“Buck, I think we should just let her sit for a minute. Can you grab her some water? Tony and I will try to figure out where she was from.” Steve said to Bucky- trying to end this painful and awkward situation. Bucky stood and walked to another area of the quinjet. He was grateful to be able to use this time to think.

“Y/n, we’re gonna need your help to get you home okay. What’s your last name? How old are you?” 

“Y/L/N” And then she went quiet. It never occurred to her that she didn’t know how old she was. Of course, she remembered her birthday, but she couldn’t tell the weeks and months apart, so she hadn’t celebrated it since she turned 10 in 2006. “What year is it?”

“When did they take you?” Steve asked gently. Being a man from another time, he could remember well the day he woke up in 2011 when it was supposed to be 1944. He knew how jarring it was to discover all the time that’s been lost, and wanted to spare her that grief.

“2006. I was 10.” She looked at him, and she could tell it’s not just 2008 by the look on his face. She knew her body went through changes over her time with the Men, but between the ‘dietary supplements’ they gave her, and the fact that she wasn’t looking in a mirror- much less shopping for clothes- she didn’t realize she had fully completed puberty. 

“Y/n, it’s 2016. You’re 20 now.” And that made the tears come harder. But she wasn’t so upset about the 10 years of her life. She was mad at 20 years of her life wasted. Since Bucky didn’t want her, all of the training was for nothing. She knew living for him made her the definition of a broken person- she wasn’t dumb. The idea of her Soldat was what grounded her all that time. When she was lonely, she’d think about the man the Men always tell her about. They told her how he was their ‘greatest asset’. And she often fantasized about if he would fall in love with her. So by the time she met him, she had already been in love with him for much longer than she’d care to admit- which makes the heartbreak of rejection hurt that much more.

Unfortunately for Bucky, his heart was heavy too. He tucked away into the tiny bed area on the jet after quickly handing Steve the water to give to y/n. It was too much. Being in that room with her, she looked at him like he hung the moon. But he most certainly had not. He was a murderer. Tony’s father was a scientist during the war, and Bucky knew him pretty well through Steve. And he killed him. He had scattered memories of hurting dozens of people, so why would she be so willing to be with someone like him?

Part of him wanted it. After almost a century of not owning anything and not having a choice, he was given the opportunity to have something that belonged only to him. A gift from the men who take care of us. If it wasn’t cruel, he would have laughed in her face. Maybe she was taken care of, but he most certainly wasn’t. She was brought in young enough to still be under the impression that Hydra wasn’t evil, just strict. He imagined for a minute how things could have turned out for the two of them if he hadn’t gotten free. If Hydra really was planning on giving him a gift. He didn’t like the last gift they gave him in the shape of an arm, but y/n was perfect. She was the perfect size for him- although his broad frame could dwarf most women. And her smile pulled at his heart.

He wanted to kiss her the minute he saw her. He knew he wanted to make her his.

And that was bad.

He rubbed his hand over his face and decided to rejoin the group in the middle of their conversation. Thor and Bruce decided to stop being passive members of the conversation and introduced themselves. Y/n was very confused at Thor’s proclamation as ‘God of Thunder’, but with all that was happening, she didn’t feel it was her place to question it.

“- a good thing we have spare rooms at the compound. You can stay as long as you like.” Tony finished speaking to y/n just as Bucky was walking into the room. “We’re gonna have a new house guest MC.” He waggled his eyebrows at the man who caught the back half of that conversation.

Bucky’s jaw dropped. This would only make the situation much harder than it needed to be. He looked to Steve for an explanation. The blond stood up and made his way over to Bucky.

“Look, Hydra scrubbed her records off of every database and-” He took a deep sigh, “Her family is dead, Buck. They probably killed them after they took her.” 

Then it was Bucky’s turn to sigh. He knew the right thing to do was to help her, but he also knew how much he wanted to feel her soft skin in his hands. And that made her dangerous to be around. 

What nobody knew was why Hydra took the 10 year old from Georgia. In 2006, the Winter Soldier was sent on a mission to kill a scientist that lived there. Of course the poor guy didn’t have a chance when the Soldier was sitting in his house, waiting for him when he got home, but what the Soldier wasn’t expecting was a little girl to be coming inside with him. The scientist looked sleazy and didn’t have any children, so who knows what would have happened to her if the Soldier didn’t get there in time. She screamed and cried. The comm in his ear commanded him to kill the girl for being a witness. But the part of the Soldier that was still Bucky wanted her to be safe. He shushed the little girl and asked her for her address. When she recited it to him, he rubbed her head and told her she was a good girl, before he dug his metal fingers into the child’s pressure points and she fell limp into his arms. y/n woke up in her bed, crying at the bad dream she must have had- her mother not even home yet. That was the first act of defiance Hydra ever experienced from the Winter Soldier. First sign of humanity and compassion. They knew if the mind control was getting weaker, he would be harder to control next time they unfroze him, but his protective nature of the girl would make her an asset to them.

Her capture was arranged before his heart was fully frozen in the chamber. Neither Bucky nor y/n remembered this- Bucky only remembering parts of his time under their control, and y/n never thinking about that bad dream again, but the connection was still there as strong as it was that day 10 years ago.

Part 3

here’s a story about changelings

reposted from my old blog, which got deleted:   Mary was a beautiful baby, sweet and affectionate, but by the time she’s three she’s turned difficult and strange, with fey moods and a stubborn mouth that screams and bites but never says mama. But her mother’s well-used to hard work with little thanks, and when the village gossips wag their tongues she just shrugs, and pulls her difficult child away from their precious, perfect blossoms, before the bites draw blood. Mary’s mother doesn’t drown her in a bucket of saltwater, and she doesn’t take up the silver knife the wife of the village priest leaves out for her one Sunday brunch. She gives her daughter yarn, instead, and instead of a rowan stake through her inhuman heart she gives her a child’s first loom, oak and ash. She lets her vicious, uncooperative fairy daughter entertain herself with games of her own devising, in as much peace and comfort as either of them can manage. Mary grows up strangely, as a strange child would, learning everything in all the wrong order, and biting a great deal more than she should. But she also learns to weave, and takes to it with a grand passion. Soon enough she knows more than her mother–which isn’t all that much–and is striking out into unknown territory, turning out odd new knots and weaves, patterns as complex as spiderwebs and spellrings. “Aren’t you clever,” her mother says, of her work, and leaves her to her wool and flax and whatnot. Mary’s not biting anymore, and she smiles more than she frowns, and that’s about as much, her mother figures, as anyone should hope for from their child. Mary still cries sometimes, when the other girls reject her for her strange graces, her odd slow way of talking, her restless reaching fluttering hands that have learned to spin but never to settle. The other girls call her freak, witchblood, hobgoblin. “I don’t remember girls being quite so stupid when I was that age,” her mother says, brushing Mary’s hair smooth and steady like they’ve both learned to enjoy, smooth as a skein of silk. “Time was, you knew not to insult anyone you might need to flatter later. ‘Specially when you don’t know if they’re going to grow wings or horns or whatnot. Serve ‘em all right if you ever figure out curses.” “I want to go back,” Mary says. “I want to go home, to where I came from, where there’s people like me. If I’m a fairy’s child I should be in fairyland, and no one would call me a freak.” “Aye, well, I’d miss you though,” her mother says. “And I expect there’s stupid folk everywhere, even in fairyland. Cruel folk, too. You just have to make the best of things where you are, being my child instead.” Mary learns to read well enough, in between the weaving, especially when her mother tracks down the traveling booktraders and comes home with slim, precious manuals on dyes and stains and mordants, on pigments and patterns, diagrams too arcane for her own eyes but which make her daughter’s eyes shine. “We need an herb garden,” her daughter says, hands busy, flipping from page to page, pulling on her hair, twisting in her skirt, itching for a project. “Yarrow, and madder, and woad and weld…” “Well, start digging,” her mother says. “Won’t do you a harm to get out of the house now’n then.” Mary doesn’t like dirt but she’s learned determination well enough from her mother. She digs and digs, and plants what she’s given, and the first year doesn’t turn out so well but the second’s better, and by the third a cauldron’s always simmering something over the fire, and Mary’s taking in orders from girls five years older or more, turning out vivid bolts and spools and skeins of red and gold and blue, restless fingers dancing like they’ve summoned down the rainbow. Her mother figures she probably has. “Just as well you never got the hang of curses,” she says, admiring her bright new skirts. “I like this sort of trick a lot better.” Mary smiles, rocking back and forth on her heels, fingers already fluttering to find the next project. She finally grows up tall and fair, if a bit stooped and squinty, and time and age seem to calm her unhappy mouth about as well as it does for human children. Word gets around she never lies or breaks a bargain, and if the first seems odd for a fairy’s child then the second one seems fit enough. The undyed stacks of taken orders grow taller, the dyed lots of filled orders grow brighter, the loom in the corner for Mary’s own creations grows stranger and more complex. Mary’s hands callus just like her mother’s, become as strong and tough and smooth as the oak and ash of her needles and frames, though they never fall still. “Do you ever wonder what your real daughter would be like?” the priest’s wife asks, once. Mary’s mother snorts. “She wouldn’t be worth a damn at weaving,” she says. “Lord knows I never was. No, I’ll keep what I’ve been given and thank the givers kindly. It was a fair enough trade for me. Good day, ma’am.” Mary brings her mother sweet chamomile tea, that night, and a warm shawl in all the colors of a garden, and a hairbrush. In the morning, the priest’s son comes round, with payment for his mother’s pretty new dress and a shy smile just for Mary. He thinks her hair is nice, and her hands are even nicer, vibrant in their strength and skill and endless motion.   They all live happily ever after. * Here’s another story: Gregor grew fast, even for a boy, grew tall and big and healthy and began shoving his older siblings around early. He was blunt and strange and flew into rages over odd things, over the taste of his porridge or the scratch of his shirt, over the sound of rain hammering on the roof, over being touched when he didn’t expect it and sometimes even when he did. He never wore shoes if he could help it and he could tell you the number of nails in the floorboards without looking, and his favorite thing was to sit in the pantry and run his hands through the bags of dry barley and corn and oat. Considering as how he had fists like a young ox by the time he was five, his family left him to it. “He’s a changeling,” his father said to his wife, expecting an argument, but men are often the last to know anything about their children, and his wife only shrugged and nodded, like the matter was already settled, and that was that. They didn’t bind Gregor in iron and leave him in the woods for his own kind to take back. They didn’t dig him a grave and load him into it early. They worked out what made Gregor angry, in much the same way they figured out the personal constellations of emotion for each of their other sons, and when spring came, Gregor’s father taught him about sprouts, and when autumn came, Gregor’s father taught him about sheaves. Meanwhile his mother didn’t mind his quiet company around the house, the way he always knew where she’d left the kettle, or the mending, because she was forgetful and he never missed a detail. “Pity you’re not a girl, you’d never drop a stitch of knitting,” she tells Gregor, in the winter, watching him shell peas. His brothers wrestle and yell before the hearth fire, but her fairy child just works quietly, turning peas by their threes and fours into the bowl. “You know exactly how many you’ve got there, don’t you?” she says. “Six hundred and thirteen,” he says, in his quiet, precise way. His mother says “Very good,” and never says Pity you’re not human. He smiles just like one, if not for quite the same reasons. The next autumn he’s seven, a lucky number that pleases him immensely, and his father takes him along to the mill with the grain. “What you got there?” The miller asks them. “Sixty measures of Prince barley, thirty two measures of Hare’s Ear corn, and eighteen of Abernathy Blue Slate oats,” Gregor says. “Total weight is three hundred fifty pounds, or near enough. Our horse is named Madam. The wagon doesn’t have a name. I’m Gregor.” “My son,” his father says. “The changeling one.” “Bit sharper’n your others, ain’t he?” the miller says, and his father laughs. Gregor feels proud and excited and shy, and it dries up all his words, sticks them in his throat. The mill is overwhelming, but the miller is kind, and tells him the name of each and every part when he points at it, and the names of all the grain in all the bags waiting for him to get to them. “Didn’t know the fair folk were much for machinery,” the miller says. Gregor shrugs. “I like seeds,” he says, each word shelled out with careful concentration. “And names. And numbers.” “Aye, well. Suppose that’d do it. Want t’help me load up the grist?” They leave the grain with the miller, who tells Gregor’s father to bring him back ‘round when he comes to pick up the cornflour and cracked barley and rolled oats. Gregor falls asleep in the nameless wagon on the way back, and when he wakes up he goes right back to the pantry, where the rest of the seeds are left, and he runs his hands through the shifting, soothing textures and thinks about turning wheels, about windspeed and counterweights. When he’s twelve–another lucky number–he goes to live in the mill with the miller, and he never leaves, and he lives happily ever after. * Here’s another: James is a small boy who likes animals much more than people, which doesn’t bother his parents overmuch, as someone needs to watch the sheep and make the sheepdogs mind. James learns the whistles and calls along with the lambs and puppies, and by the time he’s six he’s out all day, tending to the flock. His dad gives him a knife and his mom gives him a knapsack, and the sheepdogs give him doggy kisses and the sheep don’t give him too much trouble, considering. “It’s not right for a boy to have so few complaints,” his mother says, once, when he’s about eight. “Probably ain’t right for his parents to have so few complaints about their boy, neither,” his dad says. That’s about the end of it. James’ parents aren’t very talkative, either. They live the routines of a farm, up at dawn and down by dusk, clucking softly to the chickens and calling harshly to the goats, and James grows up slow but happy. When James is eleven, he’s sent to school, because he’s going to be a man and a man should know his numbers. He gets in fights for the first time in his life, unused to peers with two legs and loud mouths and quick fists. He doesn’t like the feel of slate and chalk against his fingers, or the harsh bite of a wooden bench against his legs. He doesn’t like the rules: rules for math, rules for meals, rules for sitting down and speaking when you’re spoken to and wearing shoes all day and sitting under a low ceiling in a crowded room with no sheep or sheepdogs. Not even a puppy. But his teacher is a good woman, patient and experienced, and James isn’t the first miserable, rocking, kicking, crying lost lamb ever handed into her care. She herds the other boys away from him, when she can, and lets him sit in the corner by the door, and have a soft rag to hold his slate and chalk with, so they don’t gnaw so dryly at his fingers. James learns his numbers well enough, eventually, but he also learns with the abruptness of any lamb taking their first few steps–tottering straight into a gallop–to read. Familiar with the sort of things a strange boy needs to know, his teacher gives him myths and legends and fairytales, and steps back. James reads about Arthur and Morgana, about Hercules and Odysseus, about djinni and banshee and brownies and bargains and quests and how sometimes, something that looks human is left to try and stumble along in the humans’ world, step by uncertain step, as best they can. James never comes to enjoy writing. He learns to talk, instead, full tilt, a leaping joyous gambol, and after a time no one wants to hit him anymore. The other boys sit next to him, instead, with their mouths closed, and their hands quiet on their knees.   “Let’s hear from James,” the men at the alehouse say, years later, when he’s become a man who still spends more time with sheep than anyone else, but who always comes back into town with something grand waiting for his friends on his tongue. “What’ve you got for us tonight, eh?” James finishes his pint, and stands up, and says, “Here’s a story about changelings.”

butterfly & puppy. | j. yunho

a/n: i had this idea for a while now and i’m glad that i finally have a full idea on how to do it aaa enjoy reading! and feedbacks are very much appreciated 🥺💖 also, tagging @closer-stars bcs she asked me to hehe

word count: 3.6k

main focus: yunho x fem. reader

warning(s): none really, just strangers to friends type of plot ehe.

lithe digits curled themselves into small fists upon having both arms being stretched out, y/n released a quiet noise underneath her breath at how the tight knots that had formed in her back slowly came to loosen themselves with the stretching after the long hours of sleep in her worn out mattress from the few years of usage. with a and rubbing her face, the young woman slowly got out of bed before letting her legs lead her to the window, pulling the curtains back. 

the action, however, managed to let the morning’s brightness fill itself into the small dim bedroom of hers. with how she had only just roused from her sleep, her eyes immediately shut tight out of instinct before they blinked a few times to adjust themselves to the day’s way of greeting her. despite how painfully bright it was, a fond smile made its way over her tiers as soon as her irises were finally able to focus on the scenery right in front of her.

the skies weren't gloomy by all means, yet y/n could still see how the sun was hiding itself behind the slow-passing clouds, reminding the young woman of some type of cotton candy being hung on the sky. the bright flowers from her little garden she had proudly created ever since last year somehow became a contrast to the skies above, varying from the colours of yellow, red, purple, and green. looking closely, she could tell that there was a brief shower from last night due to the fact how damp the leaves looked and how her pots seemed to darken with their shade of colour. 

breathing in a sigh out of content, y/n pulled herself away from her window to go on about her morning routine, already making a mental plan of making a trip to the marketplace, where people from different districts would come together during the weekends to sell their produce in the city. though, it would be best to leave her house as early as possible. 

she wouldn’t want to miss out on the best items being sold for being late due to the long minutes of waiting for the second train. 

giving herself one more glance in the mirror, y/n’s fingertips gingerly brushed some of the stray hairs away from her face before clipping them with a simple hairclip in the shape of butterfly wings, the corners of her lips turning up ever so little with how satisfied she looked in the mirror. with one final brush of her hands along the creases of her dress, a low hum vibrated against the back of her throat.

she’s all ready to head to the train station.

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upon arriving in the train station, her eyes widened ever so slightly at how there was quite a crowd. though, she should have expected it sooner knowing how the marketplace was very much known to attract visitors from all over the place, her area was no exception. glancing up at the sign, the bold red neon letters and numbers in the sign indicated that there was still a few more minutes to kill for the train to arrive. 

tugging her self-made knitted bag close to her side, the young woman decided to wait just near the sides where there were less crowds but close enough to give her access near the doors in case the train arrives soon. a clear lesson she had taught herself after the occasional times of standing quite a distance away from the automatic sliding doors of the train during the crowded times. 

while waiting, she noticed heavy footsteps making their way to where she was standing. as if on reflex, y/n turned her head to the side in wonder who it could be. much to her surprise, a tall young man, most likely around her age more or less, stood just a few steps away from her with both hands in the pockets of his trousers paired with a light blue flannel, a white t-shirt underneath it, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. she even noticed the slight waviness of his onyx strands, reminding her of the midnight sky she would see during one of her sleepless nights.

however, something had caught her eye. something was sticking on the back of his flannel, it wasn’t large though it certainly wasn’t that small to go unnoticed either. with her teeth digging against the inside of her cheek, y/n contemplated whether to tell him or leave it be, thinking that the male would notice it sooner or later as he went about his day. 

but of course, the urge to tear to pick the item away was bothering her mind, taking a deep breath as she  approached the tall stranger. 

giving his arm a couple of pokes to gain his attention, y/n couldn’t help but to feel her breath hitch at how undeniably attractive he is. however, admiring the stranger is not her biggest objective for now. timidly smiling up at the taller man, her index finger pointed out at the said item stuck on the back of his top. 

“excuse me, i couldn’t help but notice something stuck on your shirt.” she said, the timbres of her voice all soft. 

y/n noted how the male’s eyes blinked down at her widely before his hand came up to lightly feel around his back for the item, eyebrows furrowing once the tips of his fingers came in contact with the unknown object. finally able to take it off, the both of them looked down to see it was a sticker.

a sticker of.. a puppy?

it was when the taller male released a sheepish laugh that brought her attention back to his features, watching at how his free hand rubbed the back of his neck. she couldn’t help but to wonder if it was even possible for someone’s eyes to shine with a certain twinkle in them while smiling before their gazes met once again.

“ah, it must have been my little brother. he recently had a hobby of collecting stickers, i guess he somehow stuck one on me.” he explained, earning a quiet titter from the young woman, a hand over her lips as she did so. 

“and here i thought it was some type of fashion item.” she said in a playful manner.

once again, the two shared another round of brief chortles before the male pointed at the butterfly hairclip on her hair.

“believe me, it wouldn’t rival against your hairclip right there.” he said, playfully sending the young woman a wink, to which effectively made her cheeks grow warm from the compliment. 

“why thank you…?” she trailed off, head tilting to the side in question.

the onyx haired male seemed to catch the questioning tone in her voice, lips forming a small ‘o’ in realisation as he stretched out his hand towards her. though, before he could even tell her his name, the familiar rumbling noise echoed throughout the train station, both of their heads looking up at the source.

suddenly, a crowd came out of nowhere as soon as the doors of the train slid open, causing the two to separate so the others could pass. though disappointed that she didn’t get his name, y/n quickly made her way into the train, immediately looking around for a feat considering how she wouldn’t arrive after a few more stops to her destination. 

disappointed with how she noticed most of the seats were taken, the young woman decided to just stand, hoping that she’ll be able to sit during the stops at the stations ahead before the marketplace. though she couldn’t help but to wonder.

will the stranger stop at the same station as her? or will it be another fleeting conversation she would have with the number of strangers she had met? 

y/n concluded that the answer would be the latter. 

while she was too deep in her thoughts, the young woman failed to notice the beeping noise of the train, indicating that it will start its journey to the next station. it was when the sudden jerk of the train that had her emit a sharp gasp, losing her balance. her eyes quickly shut as she waited for the impact, yet it never came.

“careful there, butterfly.” a familiar voice reached her ears, making y/n’s head snap up. 

it could be the universe playing its tricks on you or the coincidence for the day is just too strong. 

“i have a name, puppy.” she retorted, causing both to chortle as she finally regained her balance, her hand quick to grab onto the pole near her for balance with how the train kept reaching the slight curves of the railways. 

“and i’m pretty sure the last time i checked, jeong yunho, was my name. not puppy.” the man, who she finally learned to be yunho, bit back with a gentle poke of his index finger against her arm. 

“well, jeong yunho, i’m y/n. l/n y/n.” 

from there, the both of them talked briefly as they waited for their stops. much to the female’s surprise, she learned that yunho is visiting the marketplace as well, claiming that he hasn’t been to one in a while due to having a tight schedule as of late, which y/n completely understood. 

y/n didn’t know what it was but she could feel a warm aura radiating off of the tall black haired male, it could be due to the fact that whenever he released a light laugh at a little joke they shared somehow made her feel safe at his side. she even took notice at how he tends to cover his lips with his hand whenever he laughed as they playfully bantered back and forth, finding it endearing. 

if she was being honest, she expected yunho to not spare another word to her because… well.. they were strangers. though, the young woman wasn’t complaining. she quite enjoyed his company, especially during their journey to the marketplace.

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“is it just me, or has the marketplace grown a lot bigger since i last visited?” y/n heard yunho say as the two stepped foot to the marketplace, the female’s eyes glinted with interest at the various items being sold from different vendors.

“oh it definitely grew.” she laughed, tugging her bag close to her as the both yunho and y/n started walking further into the market.

it was never a dull moment whenever she stepped foot to the marketplace. other than having a huge variety of food, drinks, plants, or even antique items being sold in the marketplace, the colours of the place will never fail to make her admire just how pretty it looked in its own way.

standing at a distance where she wouldn’t block anyone’s path, the young woman fished her phone out of her bag, immediately opening the camera app as she did so. her tongue poked the inside of her cheek as her eyebrows furrowed in concentration to make sure that the image of the potted plants that held a variety of colours were in the frame, the corners of her lips twitching up once she got the perfect angle. 

but before she could even press the shutter, a certain tall black haired male suddenly came into the frame with both of his hands up in the form of two ‘v’ signs, a large cheeky grin plastering itself over his handsome features at the sight of her dumbfounded expression. in return, her eyes squinted at the male as if glaring at him, to which yunho simply laughed before his own eyes widened at the sight of her charging towards him, and quickly side stepping as soon as the young woman neared him. giggling to himself, yunho immediately caught her in his arms so she wouldn’t crash into a random stranger. 

“careful there, butterfly. don’t want you to be the center of attention instead of this place, hm?” he said, a teasing tone was laced in his words, then letting her go afterwards. 

with a click of her tongue, y/n nudged his side before looking down at the picture, yunho peeking down at the picture as soon as she lifted her phone up ever so slightly so the male wouldn’t bend down as much to see the picture, only to burst out into a brief chortle.

“you’re lucky you look cute in here, puppy.” she laughed, motioning for the both of them to continue their little adventure in the marketplace. 

and with that, the two spent their time in the place admiring the different things on display, sometimes stopping by from vendor to vendor that offered free samples of food and drinks being promoted. yunho even decided to buy a few snacks that he thought his family might like, especially a couple of sweets for his little brother with how he has quite a sweet tooth, as yunho had mentioned it to you. 

while he was busy waiting for the vendor to pack his snacks, y/n had wandered to the little vendor where they sold handcrafted accessories that piqued her interest with how adorable each of them looked. the vendor, a middle aged lady with a kind beam plastered over her lips along with eyes that held so much kindness in them, greeted the younger woman. 

the young woman couldn’t help but to admire each and every accessory being displayed, ranging from rings, to necklaces, to earrings, and even bracelets! it seemed like they were all carefully handcrafted with how intricate the designs looked, making it seem like they held their own personality that the middled aged woman had made. 

“feel free to browse through, my dear. i hope one or two could catch your eye.” the older woman said, eyes crinkling as she grinned over at y/n. 

the female merely smiled back in return before focusing her gaze back to the accessories, complimenting the designs of the other’s craft, much to the middle aged woman’s delight. it was then, a certain accessory caught her eye, reaching out for the item to inspect it a little closer. 

it was a simple bracelet. the band around it was in the colour of a green that reminded her of the leaves from her little garden, and throughout the little crevices of the bracelet were little faux flowers that would make it seem flowers would circle the wearer’s wrist if they wore it. and to complete the look, a single butterfly charm with its wings painted in the shade of light blue decorated the middle of the bracelet. 

without a heartbeat, y/n immediately told the vendor that she had made her choice, the middle aged lady grinning in return as she took the chosen item in her wrinkled hands, that held many years of experience in crafting, to pack the little bracelet up. while doing so, y/n busied herself to pull out the appropriate amount of bills to pay. however, before she even had the chance to hand the money to the older woman, someone had beat her to it. 

“will this be enough?” yunho grinned as the vendor took the money to count.

at the gesture, y/n’s eyes widened as she gently hit yunho’s arm in return, immediately telling the vendor she will pay for it instead. yunho, seeing this, merely protested and pulled the other back.

“consider this as a gift for telling me about the sticker earlier.” yunho said, laughing at the way y/n’s eyes were glossed with guilt as her teeth sank down into the plush muscle of her lower lip, still insisting to pay for the bracelet. 

“i didn’t even get you anything.” she murmured, causing yunho to soften his features.

“you can treat me to…” he trailed off as he looked around the place, spotting a vendor that sold crepes.

“you can treat me to those crepes in return, so it’s all fair!” he pointed out, y/n following his gaze before giving him a faint nod of her head.

“crepes it is, puppy!” 

and with that, the two of them went to said vendor right after y/n had received her bracelet. along the way, she couldn’t help but to feel a tingle of giddiness at the gesture, feeling touched at the gesture by the taller one. 

seconds turned to minutes, and minutes turned to hours as the two explored the marketplace, yet the concept of time was long gone from their minds with how the two of them shared little facts of each other and even silly stories that the two couldn’t talk about during the train ride here, that the two of them almost missed the fact that most of the sellers had started packing their stuff for the day. 

and from there, the both of them decided to head back. 

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during the train ride home, yunho stared blankly out the window as the both of them were able to find seats this time. while he was admiring the scenery outside, he couldn’t help but to be reminded of the events that had occurred today. who knew that a puppy sticker that was stuck on the back of his flannel managed to create a new friendship between him and the other.

speaking of the young woman, she was awfully quiet during the train ride. tearing his gaze away from the window to the other, yunho couldn’t help but to release a quiet chortle at the sight next to him. 

y/n seemed to have fallen asleep next to him with how her head was tipped down, occasionally tipping back up as if a small part of her yelled at the young woman that she was about to fall off her seat. 

biting his lip, yunho quietly pulled her head so she was leaning against him, knowing how much her neck would feel sore in the aftermath of keeping it in that position if he didn’t pulled her in so she could rest against him. he held his breath as he watched the other shifted ever so slightly in her sleep, only then releasing a sigh out of relief once her features relaxed once again. a small gentle smile made its way over his lips as he was sure you were comfortable before looking back out the window.

it took a little while more until the speakers announced that the train was nearing their station, the announcement enough to make the sleeping girl rouse from her sleep. however, she didn’t expect to feel something soft press against her cheek. 

confused, her eyelids fluttered open sleepily before looking over to her side. it took her a few seconds for her brain to finally register that all this time, she was leaning against the black haired male, immediately sitting up properly. the sudden action was enough to make yunho switch his attention from the windows to the girl next to him, laughing lightly at her wide eyes yet somehow they still hinted some sleepiness in them. 

“slept well, i reckon?” he teased with a quirk of his brow. 

with a sheepish grin playing on her lips, y/n apologised, to which yunho waved off in a dismissive manner and telling her it was quite alright. it was when the train came to a stop that the two of them gathered their things and stood up, making their way out of the compartment along with other passengers.

once outside, yunho turned around to face the young woman, smiling down at her. “i guess this is goodbye?” 

she didn’t know why, but y/n could feel a slight twinge of disappointment with the idea of them separating. to be quite honest, she enjoyed spending the unexpected time with the taller man. yunho, who managed to mask his disappointment, felt the same way before his features brightened ever so little. 

y/n watched in confusion as yunho felt around his pockets, wondering if he had left anything behind in the train before they stepped off. but instead, yunho pulled out his phone and made quick work of unlocking it, before handing it to her.

there, an option to add a new contact was shown on the screen of his phone.

“i enjoyed having you as my company today, and it would be a shame if we stopped talking immediately.” yunho started, tilting his head to the side.

“if you want, can i have your number? i would like to get to know you better.” he added.

honestly, y/n had wondered if this day could get any more surprising than it already has been. grinning up at the male, y/n agreed and immediately typed in her number. her thumbs hovered over the keyboard of his phone for a brief second, lips pursing as if she was in thought, before typing something in, then handing the device back to the tall man. 

“i had fun today. and once again, thank you for the bracelet.” she said, eyes mimicking small crescents as she smiled up at yunho. 

“i guess, i’ll talk to you later?” she added, her hands now playing with the fabric of her dress, yunho nodding immediately in response.

“of course!”

with the two bidding farewell, yunho stayed behind for a few more seconds to watch the young woman’s retreating figure until she was finally gone from his line of sight. looking down at his phone, he couldn’t help but to emit a low chortle from the name she had decided to put in her contact. 

“i knew ‘butterfly’ suited you.” he said to no one in particular. 

putting his phone away, yunho decided that it was finally time to go home, the corners of his lips tilting up as he made his way home, mentally making a note to himself to send a certain owner of a butterfly hairclip a text message as soon as he reached home. 

* LOGAN  LERMAN ,  CIS MALE  +  HE / HIM  |   you  know  SEAN  O’MALLEY ,  right ?  they’re  TWENTY - SIX ,  and  they’ve  lived  in  irving  for ,  like ,  THEIR  WHOLE  LIFE ?  well ,  their  spotify  wrapped  says  they  listened  to  FREAKING  OUT  ON  THE  INTERSTATE  BY  BRISTON  MARONEY  like ,  a  million  times  this  year ,  which  makes  sense  ‘cause  they’ve  got  that  whole  CHIPPED  BLACK  NAILS  ON  CALLOUSED  HANDS ,  STUMBLING  BLIND  THROUGH  DAEDALUS’S  LABYRINTH ,  SKATEBOARDING  ALONE  ON  HOT  PAVEMENT  thing  going  on .  i  just  checked  and  their  birthday  is  AUGUST  4TH ,  so  they’re  a  LEO ,  which  is  unsurprising ,  all  things  considered .   

TW  INCLUDE   divorce tw ,  alcoholism tw ,  bullying tw

hi  hi  hi  it’s  alli  previously  known  for  less  strange  things  than  playing  my  own  muse’s  sibling  but  i  hope  u  can  overlook  my  faults  and  my  hubris  bc  i  love  sean  and  he’s .  something .  ok  he he he 

GENERAL :

full name:   sean thomas o’malley

age / dob:   twenty - six  /  august 4th

gender:  cis male

pronouns:   he / him

occupation:  mechanic

zodiac:  leo

orientation:  bisexual & biromantic

faceclaim:   logan lerman

pinterest:   HERE !

AESTHETIC :

chipped black nails on calloused hands, stumbling blind through daedalus’s labyrinth, skateboarding alone on hot pavement, a broken stopwatch, the burn of whiskey and the ash of discarded cigarettes, clipped wings, no one taught icarus how to fly, earbuds that always manage to tangle themselves in your pocket, liminal space

CHARACTER ANALYSIS :

kyle scheible ( ladybird ) ,  alyssa ( end of the fucking world ) ,  klaus hargreeves ( the umbrella academy ) ,  steven hyde ( that 70s show ) ,  tony stonem ( skins ) ,  jonathan byers ( stranger things ) ,  frankie ( beach rats ) ,  alexander vass ( if we were villains ) ,  angie  ( the oa ) ,  lip gallagher ( shameless ) ,  literally every deadbeat stoner skateboarder side character in any tv show ever he literally modeled his personality after them

BRIEF  BIOGRAPHY :

sean thomas o’malley was the eldest born to patrick o’malley, an on again off again construction worker, and aoife o’malley nee murphy, a checkout clerk at the local supermarket.

he was a wild thing from the beginning  --  always tugging on his mother’s hair and biting at his father’s hands, so much trouble that his parents, in their happier years, affectionately coined him “scrap”.

his sisters came a few years later, first sloane and then fia, the three o’malley alley cats. their childhood was a decent one, poor as dirt and left to rot in lilac ridge, but a close knit bunch all the same.

sean was always grinning, even that time he chipped his tooth, lopsided and warm, and his parents usually weren’t drunk until long after the children had gone to bed.

though sean himself couldn’t see it for a while, his parents had a sort of reputation around town. the o’malleys were too poor, had too many kids to take care of, spent too little time at home, were too friendly with the local bartenders. and though they didn’t know exactly what they were echoing, the kids at school had a way of letting sean know exactly what their parents thought of his. he found that sticking up for himself meant sticking up for his sisters, and he learned he didn’t particularly hate getting into fights.

sean isn’t really sure himself when things started to change, perhaps when his mom stopped work at the supermarket, or when his father broke his ankle and had to take off from the construction site, but the facade of happiness at home never lasted.

they grew apart, all of the o’malley’s, aoife and patrick ending their marriage in a divorce, sean and the girls spending more and more time away from home. to escape, it seemed, from the ghost of a family.

he fell into his group of friends like he always falls into things, seemingly at random, and bless their hearts because he’s never been the easiest person to get along with. he’s combative, and indulgent, and maybe those parents were right when they used to warn people to stay away from the o’malley boy, but he’s got his heart in the right place. if only he knew how to properly express it, maybe he wouldn’t be so on edge all the time, so starkly defensive of what little he has.

he still takes care of his dad, who moved into an apartment in delphinus heights. he makes sure he gets out of bed in the morning, even if it means being late to his own crappy job. he makes sure he’s eating enough. he tries to borrow the one family car as little as he can, knows his dad needs it more. he tries to shield his sisters from having to know the extent of a deadbeat their dad is, wants better for all of them but knows he isn’t going to be the one to give better to them.

sean cares for them all deeply, his family and the few friends he has, but he’s never been great at expressing his emotions, not with them and certainly not with anyone else. he does what he can, working whatever job he manages to secure and sticking around irving  ( currently he’s taken to fixing cars but .. how long can sean really be good for  fixing  anything .. ) , but there’s an undeniable pull he feels in his gut, whispering that it doesn’t have to be this way. that there’s more, somewhere, anywhere else. he’s never had a problem listening to his gut before.

POSSIBLE  CONNECTIONS :

an ex, probably someone who ended up leaving and things were maybe never even that serious to begin with ??  everyone always knew sean would never make it out of irving and they just wanted really different things. maybe they’ve stayed in contact or maybe not, maybe it ended badly or maybe they just both knew it was coming and sean isn’t exactly the type to care enough to try to hold on.

skate crew, i think a few other muses skate or possibly even just go to the skate park to watch others skate ??  little social gathering thing going on. picture parties at 3am in the in ground pools, drunk half pipe usage, sliding down ramps on mattresses, chaos.

his childhood friend, maybe they stuck up for him when he was a kid getting bullied and has just been there for him through everything. his parents’ divorce, everyone leaving, his many failed attempts to hold a job. maybe they grew apart and now its awkward when sean skates by like hi :P

antagonistic, no matter how hard they try not to, they’ve always butted heads. sean’s so confrontational and he can’t keep his head on his shoulders. he’s always been an easy target, but he’s also always been so jealous. isolated himself and pities himself and it’s infuriating. they’re polar opposites, but they can be at each other’s necks one minute and grabbing a pint in the next. it’s complicated.

someone innocent, maybe someone who has come to him because they want to loosen up ??  they want to put themselves out there more. they’ve always been the voice of reason and they want to cut loose, they went away and now they’re back and they don’t know what to do, etc. just think it would be fun for sean to be the father of bad influence lmao

Hi! I’m not sure if you answered this or not but how is bean’s relationship with the undateables? Also I just wanna say that I really love her! Your OC has really inspired me to write more about mine!

Ahhh, thank you both for asking about Bean and her relationships with the others!

Bean + Relationships with The Undateables:

Diavolo:

Bean will never admit it to Dia’s face, but she definitely has a thing for him. Tall, handsome, powerful prince?? Um, hell yes.

However, she acknowledges that he’s literally royalty, and that he’s pretty much unattainable. But! She’s okay with that. She enjoys being around Diavolo regardless, and the two get along well!

Throughout her time in the Devildom, the two manage to get closer. At first, she’s a little...shy of him. He’s such a big personality, and that kind of scares her. But once the two share a few lowkey, casual conversations, she feels much more comfortable.

And, of course, since Bean is a student in Diavolo’s exchange program, he is always gentlemanly towards her, but over time his need to feel kind to her shifts from a sense of responsibility, to a sense of friendship.

Bean is very easy going, and quite easy to talk to, and Diavolo enjoys that about her. She’s also willing to recount her more human experiences with him, which he loves.

Sometimes, when he’s not busy with RAD duties, and royalty stuff, he’ll take her out for a meal, just so the two can talk, and swap stories.

If Diavolo has a heavy workload, and Bean hears about it, she’ll definitely text him an encouraging message, reminding him to take care of himself, and to take a break if he can.

He thinks that’s really cute and sweet of her, and will sometimes ask her to come over for tea, or dinner, if he can spare the time in his schedule. (After all, even if he doesn’t need to thank her for simply caring about his well-being, he still wants to let her know how grateful he is that she takes the time to think of him).

Barbatos:

Their relationship truly starts when the brothers break out into a fight at Diavolo’s home, and Bean makes some sort of smart-ass comment while standing next to the royal butler. When he laughs, she feels comfortable enough to start a conversation with him, and they only become closer from there.

Compared to some of the others, Bean isn’t the best of friends with Barbatos, but they get along just fine. Whenever the two are in each other’s company, conversation comes naturally. Most of the time, they end up gossiping about the brothers (Barbatos has a lot of stories at his disposal, and she’s more than happy to listen).

And when the butler learns that Bean...well, is kind of at a loss on her nights to cook at the House of Lamentation (she honestly doesn’t know how to cook really any recipes from scratch), he offers to teach her a few simple ones, that the brothers are guaranteed to enjoy. 

So, they becoming cooking buddies. Every so often, the two will get together, and he’ll teach her a new recipe.

Aside from that, the two don’t have a very close knit friendship, but whenever Bean gets to spend time with the royal butler, she definitely has fun!

Solomon:

Bean is....not sure how to feel about Solomon. At least at first.

They’re both human, yet Solomon is so vastly different from her. He has a lot of demons and magic at his disposal, and for some reason, she gets...weird vibes from him sometimes. Like he’s not the nice person he always appears to be.

However, she tries not to get too caught up in her suspicions--she at least wants to give him a chance. So, whenever she sees him at RAD she makes small conversation with him.

Over time the two progress into a somewhat...asshole-like friendship. They make teasing comments, and take digs at one another when no one is watching.

Somtimes, Bean purposely tries to rile him up (I mean, she is a brat) to see if he’ll actually use his magic on her like he tends to threaten (usually he doesn’t, but...every so often, he’ll throw a fairly harmless spell her way, if she gets him mad enough).

Aside from being assholes to each other, Solomon is usually a good study partner if she needs one. He’s pretty well versed in many of the subjects taught at RAD, and despite this...Bean never actually asks him for help. She sits at her desk and glares at her textbook until Solomon comes over and asks if she’d like a study partner.

Then, he explains the contents to her that she’s not understanding. If she’s really stressed, he’ll lay off on his end of the teasing, but he’s still pretty cheeky. Ya know, patting her hair and saying “Look at you--you finally got it” (Sometimes she tries to smack him).

Simeon:

Bean honestly sees Simeon as something akin to an older brother. She doesn’t have any siblings, but if she did, she likes to imagine she’d have one like Simeon.

She definitely sees him as an angel--he’s so damn nice all the time.

Whenever the two see each other at RAD, it’s always a good time. Conversation is fun, and nice. 

And when Bean let’s it slip to him one day during one of Diavolo’s parties that she sees him as an older brother? (maybe she’s a little tipsy) Oh, Simeon is in love with that. He starts considering her to be a younger sister immediately.

It’s not like he wouldn’t check up on her before--he always was the type to send her random “hope you’re taking care of yourself” messages--but now he’s a little bit more protective.

If there’s ever a fight between her and one of the brothers, he’ll definitely try to march into the House of Lamentation to confront them about it (although Bean practically begs him not to).

He just wants to make sure she’s doing alright, and that the brothers are treating her well (not that he doesn’t trust them. He just knows how they can get).

Aside from the above, the two occasionally go out for meals together to catch up. They’re not around each other all the time, nor do they talk every day, but Simeon is someone she can rely on, and he can say the same for her.

Luke:

Bean has a...interesting relationship with Luke. 

As an only child, she grew up without really...interacting with people who weren’t her family, or kids her own age. So once she’s an adult, she has no idea how the hell to interact with kids.

It just feel so strange. She doesn’t want to baby talk to him, but she can’t just...have a conversation with him like he’s an adult, can she??? He definitely can act mature at times, but other times he’s yelling about nasty demons and running away, so what is she supposed to do???

With Simeon and Solomon’s reassurances, she slowly warms up to Luke.

Honestly, the minute Simeon tells her that Luke is aware of how awkward she is around him, and that it makes him feel bad, she seriously tries her best to get over her metal block and talk to him.

Over time, the two get more comfortable talking with each other. And by then end of the program, Luke basically considers Bean to be an older sister. (Simeon is like his brother, and Bean is like his sister :’))) how cute)

lsz for the ask meme please!! (:

-In the extras, Wangxian notice that he's picked up some Yunmeng Jiang style while watching him fight; WWX figures that because he and the other Lan juniors regularly go night-hunting with JL, he retained the moves subconsciously.

-He's also learned some moves neither Lan nor Jiang, which Wangxian conclude are probably from the Wen, and which WWX says are some of his best ones.

-The night LWJ brought WY back is also, from what I can tell, the night he got drunk, and branded himself with the Wen branding iron. After this, LQR was upset and angry, but didn't scold him or oppose his decision to keep WY.

-According to LSZ, WWX taught him to disguise pornography as normal books...and perhaps in vengeance WWX tells him that he used to try and eat Chenqing XD

Picking up Jiang moves: Exiled Rebels, ch. 122:

Lan WangJi shook his head. He listened some more before suddenly turning to Wei WuXian.

Wei WuXian was also somewhat surprised. He heard it to. Just now, a few of Lan SiZhui’s attacks weren’t of the GusuLan Sect, but instead of the YunmengJiang Sect.

But he’d never taught any of that to the GusuLan Sect’s juniors. He speculated, “SiZhui and the rest of them regularly go on night-hunts with Jin Ling. He probably retained them unconsciously while duelling him.”

Wen moves: Exiled Rebels, ch. 122:

He turned to Lan WangJi, “These moves are probably a few of SiZhui’s best ones. But they sound like neither your sect’s nor mine.”

A while later, Lan WangJi replied, brows slightly knitted, “Perhaps they are of the Wen Sect.”

Wei WuXian understood, “Wen Ning was probably the one who taught him. Fair enough.”

LWJ getting drunk + LQR not opposing keeping WY: Exiled Rebels, ch 111:

His confinement hadn’t ended yet when he forced his way out of the Cloud Recesses and towards Yiling with that still-wounded body of his. He searched for many days atop the entire mountain. Apart from Wen Yuan, whom he fished out still from a half-burned tree hole, still unconscious due to a high fever, he could find nothing. Not even a piece of bone, a scrap of flesh, a single strand of a weak, dissipating soul.

On the way back to the GusuLan Sect, Lan WangJi bought a jar of ‘Emperor’s Smile’ from Caiyi Town.

The wine was fragrant. And mellow. It was clearly not of the pungent kind, yet his throat burned the moment it went down, on fire from his eyes all the way to his heart.

He didn’t like the taste, but he felt he understood why that person liked it.

That night was the first time Lan WangJi ever drank, as well as the first time he was inebriated. He had no memories of what he did when he was drunk. For a long time, all of the Lan Sect’s people, no matter disciple or cultivator, held disbelief in their eyes when they looked at him. Some said that night he broke through the storage room of the Cloud Recesses, ransacking the chests in search of who-knew-what. When Lan XiChen asked, he said he wanted a flute, his eyes lost.

Lan XiChen gave him the finest flute made of white jade, yet he threw it away in fury, saying this wasn’t the one he wanted. He couldn’t find it no matter what, when all of a sudden, he saw the iron rods that had been sealed away after being confiscated from the QishanWen Sect.

After he sobered up, a scar the same as the brand mark Wei WuXian received in the cave of the Xuanwu of Slaughter appeared over his chest as well.

Lan QiRen seemed both upset and angered, but he never ended up scolding him for it.

No matter reproach or punishment, he’d had more than enough.

With a sigh, he no longer opposed Lan WangJi’s decision to keep Wen Yuan. Lan WangJi saluted him and went to receive his punishment, kneeling in silence at the Cloud Recesses for a day and a night.

-Disguising pornography + eating Chenqing: Exiled Rebels, ch 111:

Lan WangJi glanced at him, “You taught him as well.”

Wei WuXian, “No wonder he grew up so nicely.”

Lan SiZhui, “Senior Wei never taught me anything.”

Wei WuXian, “Who said I didn’t? You were just too young back then. You forgot everything I taught you.”

Lan SiZhui, “I did not forget. Now I remember. I think you did teach me.”

Wei WuXian, “Right?”

Lan SiZhui had on a serious face, “You taught me how to disguise pornography as normal books.”

[...]

Lan SiZhui, “I do not understand either. Something just felt really familiar when I saw Chenqing.”

As expected, it was Chenqing. Wei WuXian, “Oh, of course it’d feel familiar. You loved eating Chenqing back then. You always drooled on it and made it so that I couldn’t play it.”

The Last Resort: Chapter 2 (Adrinette)

Summary: After an akuma attack goes wrong, Adrien finally learns Ladybug's secret identity and finds himself falling even deeper in love with his friend. He thinks he's finally gotten lucky when she declares to him that she's currently in the business of falling love with anyone but her previous crush... until that crush turns out to be him. Now Adrien has to somehow convince the girl of his dreams to fall back in love with him, while keeping his own identity a secret from her. Well, if there was one thing his father taught him, it was how to multitask. Chapter Summary: The Cat's Out of the Trunk, Good Morning Beautiful. Marinette explains why she refuses to date Chat, Adrien begins a new morning routine, and it turns out old emotions may die harder than habits.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Alya closed the distance between her and Marinette quickly, her arms wrapping around her smaller friend and her face burying in the girl’s hair while Adrien could only watch. The two girls stayed like that for a moment, Marinette’s eyes closing in what seemed to be thankfulness as her hand slowly patted Alya’s back. But it was only a moment, Then Alya pulled back to face her friend, her face shaped into a wicked grin.

Alya pressed her lips to her friend’s forehead with an overexaggerated mwah, a loud pop resounding as she quickly pulled back. “Well, you know what, I love you,” she declared, “and someday Adrien’s going to wake up and realize that he does too... if he hasn’t already.”

Marinette snorted, rolling back from Alya with a bemused smile, “you’re the worst.”

“I’m the best,” Alya proclaimed. “The best listener, the best blogger, and your best friend.” Leaning her weight on the side of Marinette’s chair, Alya asked, “speaking of being your best friend, and seeing as how I don’t see anything that could possibly keep you busy… Maybe we could have a sleepover tonight? Possibly run through all my theories, some Adrien related and others not?”

And while Adrien would have loved to hear those theories and possibly see his lady’s reaction, the thought of remaining in a dark trunk didn’t exactly sit well with him, nor did the fact that he could only hold up his transformation for so long. A loud groan escaped his mouth without permission, gaining Alya’s attention and suddenly startling Marinette.

“What was that--” Alya began to ask.

“Floor!” Marinette immediately yelled, suddenly hoping up from her desk chair and walking in front of the trunk. She gestured to the floor with her back turned to Adrien, and he could only imagine the look on her face. “You know, the floors in these old houses! What are you going to do? I mean its Paris, its 2020, everyone’s having a housing crisis--Can’t fix all the floors! Even if you wanted to fix them and make them less noisy and less inconvenient. Those floors!” She quickly sat on the trunk, crossing her legs and no doubt posing herself in an innocent manner. “But um… Sleepover. You here, with me, alone. Tonight.” Her nerves were evident in her voice, “Can’t do it, really busy...Making a raincoat for a friend.”

Alya let out a laugh, “Which friend?”

“Wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.”

More laughter, Adrien heard the floor actually creak as Alya neared closer. “Alright,” she said, “you have fun with that. I’ll keep my eyes out for it on your Instagram.”

“Of course,” Marinette gave a strained reply as the trap door in her room creaked.

A moment passed in which she no doubt listened to Alya’s footsteps going down the staircase, much like Adrien was doing. He could hear her stand up from the trunk as the footsteps faded further away, a heavy inhale audible from outside. Suddenly, the lid of the chest opened entirely, Marinette’s face coming into view.

“Don’t. Say. A. Word.” Marinette immediately spat.

Adrien’s eyebrows raised, his legs hooking over the side of the trunk as he used it for leverage to pop out of the confining space. After taking in her dead serious expression, he couldn’t help but grin, “I don’t know what you’re referring to…”

She shot him an unimpressed glare.

“I guess the cat’s out of the bag,” he laughed, “or trunk, more like it.”

“And I’m going in it,” Marinette deadpanned, placing a foot in the trunk before stating rather over dramatically, “close the trunk and bury me in it.” After a moment of thought, she said, “and don’t forget to take the earrings off first.”

“No can do, m’lady,” he replied, his hand wrapping around her wrist as he pulled her closer, his grin stretching ear to ear like some sort of Cheshire Cat rip off. “You like him,” he stated, more for his pleasure than to inform her. “You like Adrien Agreste.” It felt electric and absolutely invigorating to say while looking at her, his Ladybug, and watching the pink bloom over her cheeks.

“I don’t!” She replied, “Not anymore!” But when the color left her face, she decided to correct the statement, “I mean I do, as a friend. I like Adrien as a friend now, only a friend. I don’t love h--”

He couldn’t let her say it. He cut her off before she could finish the statement, saying in an almost teasing tone, “Then prove it. You don’t even have to know who I am, just date me instead.” He rested his chin between his thumb and pointer finger with a devilish look, his other hand pulling her closer as he almost dared her to actually look at him, “I think I’m a little more handsome than the Agreste boy, wouldn’t you agree?”

Marinette jerked back her hand from his, her eyebrows knitting close to each other as she replied a simple, “No.”

He deflated slightly.

“You just don’t get it because you love doing this so much, but I…”

“You...?” Adrien’s face fell.

Marinette looked away from him. “I want a lot more than this, you know?” She cringed at her wording before clarifying, “I mean you and I could never date like normal people. We could never have picnics, watch movies at each other’s houses, go out to dinner, go to school dances, or spend a single peaceful night together.” Seeing how his face contorted in thought, she carried on, “I mean patrolling and beating up bad guys together is one thing, but there’s so much more to love. Could you even imagine Chat Noir walking me to school? That’s not something that can happen, kitty.”

“But if you let me tell you who I am--”

“Then I’ll love you just because you’re Chat Noir,” her hand drifted to his cheek, her thumb creating circles on his skin. “No one else would have a chance to know me like you do, and I might miss out on something great.” Her eyes were sincere as she stated, “If I fall in love, I want it to be as a civilian, just a normal girl. If you take off that mask right now, then I won’t get that.”

He sighed, his head leaning into her touch as he slowly closed his eyes, seemingly admitted defeat, “fine.”

*****************************************

“So tell me again why you’re forcing me to wake up a whole hour early,” Plagg yawned, but it did not diminish the audible nature of his irritation, “When you already show up at school well before everyone else.”

Adrien sighed, placing his head against the glass of his car door window as he also fought the urge to return to sleeping. “We’ve gone over this, Plagg. I talked to Nathalie, and she said that this was the only way she could imagine making room in my schedule for this. If this is what Marinette really wants, then…”

“Then you should walk her home instead,” Plagg whined, “so it’s not too suspicious. Heck, you could even give her a ride, maybe she’d like that.”

“Plagg.”

“You know that girl’s late all the time anyway!” Plagg reminded Adrien, “and your father said that if you show up even a minute late to one of your classes, then it’s another day of no school for you. You’re seriously putting things at risk here.”

“And?”

“And?!” Plagg’s voice grew louder but trailed off quickly. In a mere moment, the cat’s demeanor changed, his ears perking and his tail drooping as his nose pointed up in the air.

Adrien’s did as well, enticing smells filling the street as the Dupain-Cheng bakery came into view. Mrs. Cheng stood outside, propping the door open as she flipped the sign, clapping to herself with a pleased look on her face as the streets of Paris began to fill with the smell of freshly baked bread. Passerby quickly began to file off the street and into line as the scent grew, each hoping to grab some of Paris’s greatest baking before it ran out.

“Cream cheese danish-- No, a cheesy croissant-- No, a cheesy quiche…” Plagg began to demand, “or all of the above.” With a lick of his lips, the Kwami declared, “maybe you trying to date bakery girl won’t be such a bad thing…”

“I’ll say…” Adrien agreed, his mouth partially falling open at how enticing the smell of a just-opened bakery was. No wonder Ladybug always smelt so good; her parents had managed to create an aromatic paradise with mixtures of flour and yeast every morning.

The car rolled to a stop in front of the bakery, the Gorilla quickly hopping out of the driver’s seat to open Adrien’s door before he could manage to do it himself.  The Gorilla nodded his head to the bakery as he opened Adrien’s door, hinting that at least one banana cream eclair would be required for the boy to carry out his plan. Adrien nodded in response as he got out of the car, giving his bodyguard a quick thumbs up and grinning as the man returned the action. Adrien was fortunate that his father paid him well, especially if he had to provide treats for his bodyguard and Plagg every day he insisted on walking with Marinette.

Pulling the strap of his messenger bag a little bit tighter and straightening his back, Adrien inhaled hard before getting in line. Keeping his head down and his hand angled on his forehead so that it blocked the majority of his face, he waited peacefully in the quick-moving line, mentally practicing what he would say to see Marinette at such an early hour a million times.

He was on a million and one when he got close enough for Tom Dupain to notice him, only three people between him and the counter.

“Adrien!” The baker’s voice greeted from behind the counter. Heads turned with his greeting, but the man paid them no mind as he quickly exited the kitchen to place a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “What are you doing waiting in line? You know you’re one of Marinette’s friends now; you hardly have to go through the bakery doors. You can use the back entrance like Alya.” Shrugging his shoulders and seeming to not realize even part of the reason Adrien was there, Tom added, “you can drop whatever you have for her on the kitchen counter; she’ll probably be up in a few hours.”

“Um, actually,” Adrien blinked, overwhelmed by the man. “I was hoping to get some of your pastries, you are the best baker in town. And then, you know…” Tom’s akumatization as Weredad flashed before his eyes, causing Adrien to mumble his words too lightly for the man to hear.

“Excuse me, son. I couldn’t hear that last part!” Tom smiled.

“I said…” The words were lost once more in the bustle of the bakery.

“Just a little bit louder, Adrien!”

“I was hoping to walk Marinette to school!” Adrien yelled.

Tom inhaled and Adrien flinched, unsure of how the man would react after the absolute trainwreck that was brunch with Chat Noir.

“Sabine, did you hear that?!” Tom called across the bakery, his arm snaking around Adrien’s shoulder and holding the boy closer to him like one would a son. “Adrien is walking our daughter, Marinette, to school!” His expression was practically blissful as he called to his wife, “pack up one of everything!” He swiveled back to Adrien, his face filled with so much genuine glee that Adrien almost thought that he should be the one selling happiness on billboards instead of the blond. “Now you go up there and, no matter what she says or how grumpy she may seem, wake Marinette up. I’m sure she’ll be delighted to see you once she comes to.”

**********************

The light blue light of early morning streamed in through Marinette’s windows when Adrien entered her room, providing just enough light for him to get up her staircase without hassle and sit at the edge of her bed. Still, even with the dip of his body sitting on her mattress the girl did not move, her eyes still shut tight to the morning.

Marinette released a small sigh as her body flipped his way, her feet seeking the warmth of his legs as she nestled in sweetly to her bed. Her long eyelashes fluttered only once as her knees raised back into the fetal position, murmuring words softly to herself. It would be easy to watch her, but it wasn’t exactly his place, and Adrien currently had a deadline to fulfill.

“Marinette~,” he cooed, setting a hand down on her waist to shake her gently. “Wake uuuuuup.”

“Mbleg,” Marinette responded.

“Marinetteeeee,” he tried again.

“Nuh-bluh,” she said, half-asleep.

He held back the chuckle that tickled the back of his throat, his voice teasing as he continued, “Marinette, it’s Adrien Agreste.”

“Nuh.”

“I’m here to walk you to school.”

“Un-mn.”

He rolled his eyes with a grin, allowing his side to fall against the bed as he faced her, his body filling in all the spaces where hers curved. With his face just inches from hers, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers momentarily before enacting his evil plan.

Puckering his lips, he grabbed her shoulders and, taking advantage of the short distance but never fully touching her, blew a gust of air up her nose.

Marinette’s eyes flew open and she sprang back, screaming, “AH!” And then, noticing Adrien, she screamed again, “AAAAH!” Her hand slapped down on his shoulder as her screaming stopped, once, twice, and again; her eyes scrutinizing him as if she was worried he’d bite her or something.

Adrien flinched at the contact, but couldn’t help but laugh, “Marinette!”

“Adrien!” She finally acknowledged, her jaw immediately falling open. “It’s you! You’re in my bed! Now! With me!” Her eyes widened, “Oh my god, I just hit you.”

“Your parents sent me to wake you up,” he explained.

“They sent you to wake me up?” Marinette repeated, her eyes drifting down from him to her pillow. Her mouth stretched wide as she tried to paint a distracting smile, immediately grabbing the pillow near Adrien that she’d previously been resting on and flipping it over, as if he hadn’t just seen her drooling seconds before. “I mean, that’s just-- wow, what an occasion, you waking me up and all.”

Adrien nodded, “Yeah, I was just in the neighborhood picking up pastries, can’t beat one of your father’s croissants, and then I thought, maybe I should walk with Marinette to school today?” He twinkled at her, adding innocently, “if you want to, that is.”

It was adorable when she was awestruck. “Walk? With you?” Adrien nodded and there it was, a deep blush that Marinette had likely been holding back. “Let me just get dressed, and then we’ll…” She nodded to herself as if affirming this was real before springing to her feet. Taking in Adrien with even wider eyes, she looked between him and her bed, only seeming to inhale and never exhale. “You stay here. I’ll get dressed but, you stay here,” she stated, and it hit him that she was obviously afraid that he’d disappear into thin air.

“I’ll stay here, right here, on your bed, and I’ll wait for you. Okay?” He chuckled.

“Okay,” she finally exhaled, casting him a nervous look as she approached her stairs. He beamed at her in return and she immediately looked down, her face a ruby red as she disappeared down the stairs.

"...Don’t like Adrien anymore,” he muttered as she disappeared, rolling onto his back to grin even wider at the ceiling. “Right,” he laughed.

Summary: Kuro is cursed where any living being that he touches will die within a day. He thought he would be alone forever until he meets Mahiru. (KuroMahi, Fantasy AU)

Mahiru gasped when he stepped into his garden and found that his plants had withered and died. They were healthy when he watered them the previous night. He knelt on the ground and studied the dirt to search for anything that could’ve caused them to die. He noticed that the grass nearby had also turned brown and brittle. The patches of dead grass formed an odd pattern and they almost appeared to be a trail.

His eyes followed the path to his greenhouse and he gasped when he saw a lion inside. Mahiru summoned his staff and cautiously approached the door. Questions crossed his mind and he wondered if the lion had destroyed his garden. He specialized in animal magic so he was able to speak with animals. He hoped he could ask the lion a few questions.

The black lion appeared to be sleeping and he knocked on the glass to wake it. He didn’t know if the lion was dangerous so he decided to keep his distance. Mahiru had to question how the lion was able to enter the green house. The creature didn’t react to his knock so he opened the door slightly to call to it. Using his magic, he changed his voice into a low growl. “You’re a long way from home, Sir Leo.”

A powerful wind pushed him away from the entryway and slammed the door. Mahiru looked around him for the person who could’ve casted the spell. His eyes fell onto the black lion and a hand peaked out of the fur. The lion pelt fell aside to reveal a man with light hair. He had never seen a man with hair that resembled a pale blue moon.

“You’re noisy. Can’t deal.” The man groaned. He stood and Mahiru was able to see that his clothes were tattered. What concerned him the most was the blood on the man’s pants. From the way he limped to the far side of the green house, he knew he was hurt. Mahiru tried to open the door so he could help tend to the door but it was stuck. “Don’t come in.”

“But you’re bleeding. I know a few healing spells that can help you.” Mahiru reasoned that the man had summoned the wind to keep him out yet he couldn’t understand why.  He walked around the greenhouse to stand next to the man. The thick glass wall between them only muffled their voices slightly so they were still able to speak with each other. “I can’t let you die in my greenhouse. Let me help you.”

“You’re one of those troublesome people who tries to help others even when they didn’t ask for it, aren’t you? I can tell from your eyes. Troublesome.” He groaned. He sat against the wall and faced Mahiru. “Don’t waste your time trying to help me. You can’t. Please, just leave me alone for a few hours and then I’ll leave your greenhouse. I’m sorry about your flowers though.”

His words caused Mahiru to look around the greenhouse. The flowers were slowly turning brown like the plants in his garden. The man told him: “I’m cursed. When I touch something, I will drain the life from it and it will die within the day. That’s what happened to these flowers. The same might happen to you so it’s best if you keep your distance from me.”

Mahiru looked from the dry grass to the plants until his eyes fell back to the man. He wouldn’t meet his eyes but he could hear the pain in his voice. He didn’t know the reason he was cursed but he didn’t seem dangerous or violent. The lonely expression he had tugged on Mahiru’s heart. He lightly knocked on the glass to get his attention again. “My name’s Mahiru. Can you tell me yours?”

The man had expected Mahiru to run away in fear of his curse. After a moment, he answered Mahiru. “Kuro. My name is Kuro.”

“I can’t touch you but I still want to help you, Kuro. There must be something I can do to help you with my magic. Stay here while I get something for you. I’ll be back soon.” He said before he ran into the nearby house. Kuro debated if he should leave while Mahiru was gone. He knew his presence would endanger Mahiru. Beyond his curse, there were hunters after his lion form.

He tilted his head back against the cold glass and closed his eyes. He tried to gather enough energy to run away. The wound on his leg burned and he knew he wouldn’t be able to run far even if he tried. Kuro could easily picture Mahiru trying to follow him if he left injured. He sighed and decided that it was best to wait until Mahiru was asleep.

The smell of soup caught his attention and he opened his eyes to see Mahiru run towards the green house with a tray of food. He opened the door and Kuro instinctively backed away but his back was already pressed against the wall. Mahiru saw his reaction and stopped in the doorway. He placed the tray on the ground and stepped back. “I hope you like beef stew.”

His stomach growled in answer and it caused Mahiru to laugh. Kuro blushed with embarrassment but he couldn’t see any judgement in his brown eyes. He summoned a breeze that carried the tray of food to him. Mahiru went to sit beside Kuro with the wall between them and he watched him take a bite. “It has been a long time since I ate something warm. This is delicious.”

“Thank you.” Mahiru loved cooking and it was fulfilling to have someone enjoy his food. He laid his staff over his lap and debated if he should ask him about his curse. He didn’t want to pry into his life when the topic was likely difficult for him. “Do you specialize in wind magic, Kuro? It’s rare. My uncle taught me how to use animal magic since we live in a forest.”

“I taught myself plant magic.” Kuro lifted his hand and a black rose grew in front of Mahiru. “My curse forces me to kill everything around me. The least I can do is bring a little life back to the world.”

“This ending is romantic and tragic at the same time. Don’t you think so, Kuro? When I was a kid, I would pretend to be the hero and I tried to cast the cloud spell he did for the princess. I didn’t know the words to the spell and accidentally filled the house with a fog.” Mahiru laughed at the memory. He was slightly surprised when he heard Kuro chuckle. It was the first time he heard him laugh.

Due to his wounds, Kuro stayed in the greenhouse to rest and heal. Mahiru cooked him food and they would talk throughout the day. They grew closer over the past few weeks and he enjoyed spending time with him. He gave Kuro his collection of books to read so he wouldn’t be bored whenever he went into town. In exchange, Kuro helped tend his vegetable garden from a distance.

“You have to combine wind and animal magic if you want to cast the spell the hero did.” Kuro chanted a spell and clouds began to swirl around Mahiru. The clouds took shape into a cat and climbed onto his lap. He lifted the cat to his face and tickled his nose against its white fur. Watching him, Kuro couldn’t help but smile slightly. “I can write down the spell for you.”

“It would be nice to have a bunch of animals made of clouds but it’s a shame they can’t talk. Since my uncle has to leave for work often, it can get lonely on the mountain. I’m glad that we met. I’ll miss you when you leave. I like to think we’re friends.” Mahiru gave Kuro a sad smile and placed his hand over the glass. “I know you’re planning to leave as soon as your leg heals.”

“I like you too, Mahiru. That’s why I can’t stay and endanger you. Even if we’re careful, I might touch you accidentally.” Kuro turned away from Mahiru because he didn’t want to see his disappointment. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had been kind to him after they learned about his curse. He looked at his hand and sighed. “I don’t know why my father gave me this curse.”

“Is there a way for someone to break the curse? I don’t want you to have the burden of that curse and be forced to isolate yourself. I’m a simple witch but we might be able to find a solution together.” He rarely spoke about his curse. Mahiru was shocked to discover that his father had been the one to curse Kuro. The pain in his eyes made Mahiru want to hug and comfort him but he knew Kuro wouldn’t allow him close.

He placed his hand over the glass and Kuro mirrored his action. “I’ve already searched for a way to break the curse but I don’t think there is one. I’m sorry, Mahiru.”

“If you’re going to leave, promise you’ll tell me goodbye. I want to give you a few things for your journey like food and new clothes.” Mahiru understood Kuro’s feelings but he didn’t want him to go. “I know I’ll worry about you when you’re gone but I’ll feel better if I know you’re eating properly and have warm clothes. Oh, I already knitted something for you.”

He took out a pair of gloves from his bag. He walked to the entrance to hand him the gloves and Kuro opened the door for him. Mahiru smiled up at him and realized that it was the first time they were so close without a wall between them. He held up the gloves to him before he placed it on his own hand. “I hope they fit. I didn’t know your size so I made them a little larger than my hand.”

Without thinking, Kuro placed his hand against Mahiru’s to see how much smaller his hands were. He realized his mistake the moment he felt his warmth and quickly backed away. He felt so relaxed with Mahiru that he forgot about his curse for a moment. Kuro didn’t want to see Mahiru die because of his curse and turned away. “Shit. I’m sorry, Mahiru. Do you feel pain anywhere?”

“I feel fine, Kuro.” Mahiru’s words confused him and he looked back to him. The colour hadn’t left his face or aged like he had seen others become after he touched them. They were both confused but Mahiru walked into the greenhouse. He closed the distance between them and placed his gloved hand on his cheek. Gently, he tilted Kuro’s face down so their eyes met. “When I touch you, I don’t feel a curse. Only you.”

Kuro touched his hand and felt the warm wool of the glove. “It must be the glove. We should still be careful.”

“At least we know that there’s a way to stop your curse.” Mahiru took off his gloves and handed them to Kuro. “It’s not permanent so we should find another solution. We can do that together since we don’t have to worry about your curse affecting me when you’re wearing gloves.”

Hshshsnansna seeing that ask got me in a HUGE HaaH mood. Like, I went through and read a bunch of asks, and I'd probably go reread the fic itself if I had time. So!! Is there anything about HaaH you've always wanted to share but never had the chance to? Headcanons, worldbuilding, backstory, hidden details- anything at all??

Oh friend… There is so much. I have a Word document that’s like 17k of JUST headcanons and world-building for this fic kghsdkjhdkfg I’m not crazy, I swear.

It took me a while to respond because I had to comb through and find stuff that wasn’t spoilery, but tada, have some Home and a Half Hunk and Shiro (and Matt) headcanons and backstory under the cut!

Also, as for hidden details… Same as the Garrison professors in the show were named for staff members, Neuhahn and Ania are named after IRL contributors to the Voltron animated series–Chris Neuhahn was a producer and Ania O’Hare was the casting director.

And here are some Hunk, Shiro, and sorta Matt headcanons/backstory that shapes their characters in HaaH. (Please note, these headcanons ignore absolutely everything from about season 6 of the actual show and on. I stopped watching Voltron after Season 6 because I just couldn’t handle the writing anymore. T_T)

Hunk:- He’s mixed ethnically, and although his parents are from Samoa, his family tree actually spans many different countries, mostly in Polynesia, including Tonga, but even places as far away as Malaysia.- His parents were converted to the LDS church by Mormon missionaries in Samoa. A few years before Hunk was born, his parents moved to Utah to be closer to the church, so Hunk has only ever been to Samoa once, on a vacation to visit family.- His first name is actually “Hyrum,” and until he met Lance at a Garrison-sponsored summer astro-camp when they were nine, everyone just called him by his real name.- Lance actually meant to call him “Incredible Hulk” at camp, butttt to nine-year-old Lance’s utter mortification, it came out “Incredible Hunk” instead. “Hunk” stuck.- He has a little sister who is even more sensitive than he is.

- Although Hunk’s parents originally agreed on the plan to move to America, after the family arrived, they experienced difficulty fitting in with the very selective Utah culture, and Hunk’s mother grew disenchanted with the church. Employment was difficult to find in their small, rural town, and Hunk’s parents both struggled with being isolated from their extended families. Tensions over whether or not to remain in America, as well as over money, led to some miserable fights that contributed to Hunk’s aversion to conflict when he was younger.

- Hunk sometimes had to play the role of family peacekeeper, working hard to make sure that his youngest sister wouldn’t notice the strain.

- Nevertheless, despite their share of troubles, the family is extremely close-knit. Hunk values his family and their opinions more than anything in any world.

- Which is how he ended up agreeing to go to Garrison, even when he really just wanted to help his parents kickstart the restaurant they were planning to open. His mother felt that working in a family restaurant, even if Hunk is a great cook, would squander his incredible academic and engineering talent (which Hunk thought of as just a hobby), so she begged him to go and continue his schooling instead. Hunk couldn’t say no to his mother, even if the thought of being shipped off into space terrified the living daylights out of him.

- Hunk doesn’t curse and is somewhat uncomfortable with people cursing, at least in front of him. Although Lance used to have a pretty colorful repertoire, when he learned that cursing made Hunk uncomfortable, he immediately adopted all of Hunk’s weird Utah replacements instead. “Holy crow” and “let’s kick some trash” are things they actually say seriously.

- Hunk is always down to cuddle and is never embarrassed by asking for or giving cuddles to anyone. He would 200% cuddle Shiro if he thought Shiro would let him. (Shiro would, in fact, let him.) Hunk’s favorite person on the team to cuddle is actually Keith, because Keith (who was taught to comply by Garrison scientists with all unexpected/unsolicited touch) will just sit obediently for hours letting Hunk hug out all his stress. Hunk knows that something is off about Keith’s behavior, but his leading theory—that Keith allows the hugs because he’s touch-starved—is unfortunately false.

- Hunk knows the lyrics to every Disney song EVER.

- And he’s like a dog with a bone when it comes to secrets. Once he discovers that someone’s keeping something under wraps, he goes a bit crazy with curiosity and cannot stop thinking about what they might be hiding. The rules of privacy go totally out the window when he gets like this, but time and again, Hunk’s adage that it’s always better to tell the truth bears itself out.

  Shiro (and Matt?):

- Shiro is the only member of his immediate family whose first language was not Japanese. His grandparents on both sides immigrated to the US from Japan due to work transfers relatively late in life, when their own children, Shiro’s parents, were already young adults. As the first family child to be born in America, Shiro’s parents strongly emphasized the need to learn English well, which unfortunately resulted in Shiro being pushed away from learning Japanese when he was young. Even though he’s a capable conversationalist now, he’s struggled his whole life with regret over not learning the language when he was young and could have picked it up easier.  

- There’s a running joke in his family that he’s actually an ogre in disguise, given that he is much taller than many of his other family members. Tradition demands that the first photo of every holiday gathering is a joke group shot in which Shiro’s posed so his entire head is outside the top frame of the picture.

- Shiro was mercilessly bullied as a child because of his height. The other children frequently suggested that he didn’t belong in their grade because he was too big and that the school must held him back multiple times for being dumb. (Shiro was never held back. In fact, he had excellent grades from kindergarten to the day he graduated from Garrison—and no, not because his parents forced him to study; in fact, throughout his schooling, they often ended up having to force Shiro to go to bed already instead.)

- On top of being teased for his looks, Shiro was naturally shy. He barely spoke, even to his teachers, and would stumble miserably if he was put on the spot in class, contributing further to the rumor that he was stupid.

- Shiro loved learning, but he hated everything that happened in school and didn’t have a single real friend outside of his cousins until he went off to middle school and met Matt Holt in sixth grade.

- Barely two weeks into their first middle school year, and it was already obvious that Matt was the school’s biggest nerd; he’d been bumped up two grades because of his obvious genius and was the textbook definition of an alien conspiracy theorist (It’s not a conspiracy if they’re REAL, guys!) But the strange thing was that no one bullied Matt—he was just so quick on the sarcastic (and biochemical) comebacks that teasing him wasn’t even worth it. Instead, the school’s resident assholes took it out on targets a little less likely to corrode their homework with miniature magnesium bombs—read as, they picked on polite, well-meaning Takashi Shirogane instead.

- Out of pity more than anything else, Matt finally stood up for Shiro one day and ran off the assholes. (It was not, as Mrs. Shirogane insists, with a home-made taser. It was not.) After something like that, well… You sort of feel obligated to befriend a guy, don’tcha?

- Becoming friends with Matt Holt transformed Shiro’s life. Even if Shiro wouldn’t originally speak up for himself, he was ferociously proud and supportive of his first real friend, and learning to be bold for Matt taught Shiro the value and meaning of standing up for not only others, but also himself. Being friends with someone as off-the-cuff and tricky as Matt helped Shiro grow more spontaneous, less self-conscious, and ultimately much more confident—even if, to this day, most of that confidence is still focused on helping others, rather than on being self-assured.

- It was Shiro admiration for Matt’s father, Sam Holt, that led Shiro to take his childhood obsession with military history a step further by actually joining the military. Shiro and Matt enrolled in Garrison together, although Matt was part of the research rather than the combat division.

- Matt was the one who convinced Shiro to get his hair styled in an undercut. It was originally just a dare, but Shiro ended up loving it afterward. The “Undercut Incident,” as it has come to be known in the Shirogane family, was the official straw that broke the camel’s back and resulted in Mrs. Shirogane declaring Matt Holt a “bad influence,” the only impact of which was that Matt had to sneak in through Shiro’s bedroom window instead of coming to the front door when he wanted to hang out.  

- Shiro has received two separate Medals of Honor for making dangerous supply deliveries to war-torn countries across the globe, delivering the vital food and medicine that helped save hundreds of lives. He has also been part of several missions to save stranded astronauts from failing international space stations.

- Shiro is actually a giant memelord, but his crushing sense of responsibility keeps him from indulging in quality shitposting in front of anyone he actually knows. He had a ridiculously active secret Vine account before leaving on the Kerberos mission. His snaps are legendary. Deep down, Shiro dreads the inevitable day someone connects him with his cringey social media accounts.

- Literally the worst at adulting. His mom still filled out his tax forms for him and booked his dentist appointments. He has no idea what the hell he’s doing leading Team Voltron when he can’t even remember which of his clothes are machine-washable and which aren’t.

- When they were in their third year at Garrison, Matt conned Shiro into volunteering as a camp counselor for Garrison’s summer astrocamp program, even though Shiro had minimal understanding of how to take care of children and mostly just BS’d his way through, hoping that none of his campers had anything close to a serious issue.

- He won “best camp counselor” the very first year he volunteered. Mostly because Lance cheated and voted for him 23 times, but still.

Can You See My Reflection?

Pairings: Idol!Hoseok x Reader

Word Count: 3,615

Summary: Y/N has given up on her dreams after her younger sisters start getting all the opportunities. But a two-way mirror may just turn Y/N’s fortune around. Just a cute, little Cinderella Story AU

Warnings: shitty family, mops?

A.N: Leave feedback-whether good or bad. Let me know what you think!

Heavy breaths left your parted lips. Your sides screamed at you to rest yet your legs kept moving; you knew they would be sore in the morning. But the aches you felt the day after was worth it if you were able to connect to the music drumming through the speakers for one moment. Anything was worth the feeling of getting lost in your own movements and the melody of some song, feeling that connectedness you longed for.

The man on the opposite side of the mirror broke down a previous motion for one of the others towards the back. You copied his movements. You were quick to learn but that meant that you often looked over the small ticks. You admired the way he moved, his body flowed perfectly with the music, hitting every beat, expressing every word. The men behind him were amazingly talented, but the man you often found yourself secretly standing in front of every week had a way of commanding the music with every step.

The song restarted and you took your place in front of the two-way mirror. As your cue grew closer, you looked at the man’s face. He held power in his limbs, perhaps too much. Whenever you sneaked his new choreography routine, you were breathless and inspired to learn. The mirror made it so his figure was shaded so you weren’t able to make out the small details of his face. You could tell that he had sharp features. His face was long and he had a sharp jawline and high cheekbones. His nose also ended in a sharp point when he turned his head to the side. You couldn't make out the exact shape of his lips, but you guessed that the top made a curve that was as sharp as the rest of him.

It took an hour for all of them to learn the new dance. You copied the man’s finished steps with ease but you were far messier than the men in the other room. They had far more experience and training than you. How you dreamed of being like them, like the idol groups you always looked up to. But life was cruel and people were crueler. After your parents had all but abandoned you at a young age, you were taken in by the woman you now all but wish you had never met. She had treated you as her own in the beginning, but you soon found out some girl from the street could never replicate flesh and blood.

She entertained your childhood dreams of becoming an idol when you grew up. Then your first sister came along. Then the second. Then third. Then all of a sudden your dreams became too ambitious for a girl like you and were transferred onto more “deserving” people. You remiss back to the nights you secretly taught yourself the latest dances in the cramped room you were stuffed into. The hours you spent staring at the posters you managed to fit on your walls, imagining how happy the idols on the glossy paper were, being able to make music and have people screaming their name. The envy and anger you would have to swallow down whenever you saw your sisters being dropped off at dance/singing lessons and when they got older, how your adopted mother gushed how they were sure to debut soon.

Cleaning the dirty floors of BigHit was the closest you would ever get to becoming an idol. After three months of mindless scrubbing, you found this dance studio. You had no idea that the mirrored wall was see through and thought for sure you would be fired when one day when you were dancing you saw people file into the other room. It was risky but when some of the people looked directly at you and said or did nothing, you realized that you had finally found your safe haven.

You and the man slid towards the mirror for the final move. Both of you had forgotten the distance you needed and nearly collided into the mirror. Part of the mirror fogged with your hot breath as you were finally close enough to see the man. His lips formed into a shape that hinted that he had dimples at the upper corners of his mouth, right before his cheeks.

His eyebrows knit together and he shifted so he was fully facing you. You watched as his eyes scrutinized the mirror until he was staring directly into your eyes. You figured he was looking at himself but his eyes grew wide and his eyes never left yours. He brought his hand up and his lips moved as he said something. His words were muffled. The mirror also acted as a sound barrier so when there was a new choreo to learn, you had to pace past the next room to listen until you picked up enough lyrics to search the song.

Panic rose in your chest. After months of being in this room, you had finally been caught by the man you risked being caught for. You didn’t want to learn what it was he said. You quickly turned from the mirror and hysterically gathered your belongings in the corner of the studio. You were a quarter way down the hall when you heard the door open and the man shouting at you to wait. This only made you move to walk faster until you were in a full-on sprint.  Once the man’s footsteps faded behind you, you stopped to collect your breath. Sweat ran down your face that beat with your body’s inner heat built up from all the cardio.  

You checked behind you and let out a sigh of relief when you saw that the man hadn’t followed you. You ignore the passive glances at your red face as you leave the building and dig in the pockets of your jacket for your mask. You trembling hands adjust the straps around your ears and you begin the walk back home down the busy street.

Brown. His eyes were brown. A dark brown that made a person want to melt in them.

You couldn’t get his eyes out of your head. As you did all your chore around the house and as you laid in bed staring at the ceiling. Despite your job at BigHit, the money wasn’t enough for you to support yourself and the only way your adopted mother treated you as the adult you were was by asking for rent. So you were left with barely enough money to buy shoes at the end of the month despite having nothing of your own.

Your hands were still shaking and your heart would occasionally jump in your chest as thoughts of him swirled in your head. Would he tell his manager that he saw you? Would his manager tell your boss? How long was it going to be before you were fired?

Already, part of you was excited to go back into work despite the majority having half a mind to call and quit over the phone. The small part of you that was still willing to risk going back to the studio, the part that still dreamt of being an idol, was thrumming with the excitement of being that close to that man.

At first you had no idea who he was, nor did you have any desire to find out. You wish you hadn’t because how else are you supposed to do your job knowing that the floors you mop are the very floors that BTS walk on? How are you going to be able to go back to your hidden studio knowing the man behind the mirror is Jung Hoseok?

“Y/N! Get down here!” your adoptive mother yells from the floor below you. You see her and your two sisters waiting for you at the end of the staircase. “I have a proposition for you,” she claps her hands together in a prayer pose. “You work at BigHit right?”

You nod.

“Well, JYP-for whatever reason, hasn’t debuted Heejin yet so I want you to bring her with you to work so that someone will finally recognize her talent.”

“Yeah….I don’t think I can do that,” you drawl, ignoring your younger sister’s terrible attempt at giving you puppy dog eyes. At this, your mother’s face darkens.

“I wasn’t giving you a choice.” Her face lightens and she claps a hand on your shoulder, “But I’m sure you’ll have a lot of fun.”

You internally scream as you’re left alone on the staircase.

“Are you fucking kidding me!? You’re a janitor?” Heejin sneers. “I’m not cleaning.”

“I never said you had to,” you mumble as you fill up the mop bucket.

“I thought you actually did something important.”

You exhale from your nose and purse your lips as you look to the ceiling before brushing past her, pulling the mop with you.

“So like, have you even seen someone famous?”

You pause as Hoseok comes into your mind but you’re filled with the urge to protect him from Heejin, “No.”

“So what’s the point of me even being here?” Heejin whines and stomps her foot.

“Then go home if you don’t want to be here.” You slap the mop onto the floor and work your way down the hall, keeping your gaze to the floor. It seems she took your advice because when you look up to wet the mop, Heejin’s gone.

“Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!” Heejin comes bouncing up to you as you walk down the hallway with a half-full trash bag in your hand.

“You’re still here?” you look at her in shock. First using one of the studios without permission and then bringing someone with you to work and letting them wander around; you were sure to be fired now.

“Guess who I ran into,” she barely contains her smile and doesn’t let you open your mouth before she’s answering, “Jung-freaking-Hoseok. The Hoseok, from BTS,” she tells you as if you have no idea who he is.

Heejin grips both of your shoulders. “I’m like, freaking out. Okay? I told him I was a trainee and that I loved his dancing and then he told me to dance for him sometime when he was free.”

Your heart drops to your stomach and you force a smile onto your face. “That’s awesome.”

Heejin stares at you with wide eyes, “No! That’s not awesome, Y/N! I’m not good at dancing! What am I gonna’ do? He’s going to see me dancing and laugh at me. I really want to impress him.”

You watch as her eyes become glossy and a wave of sympathy washes over you. Despite all of her flaws and the ways she annoys you, she’s still your sister and you love her. “Hey, stop. You’re going to do amazing. He won’t laugh at you. If anything, he’ll probably give you tips or something to try and help you.”

Heejin continues to pout at the floor causing you to sigh. “When did Hoseok say he was going to be free?”

“Next week.”

“Okay. Okay,” you nod, “That’s plenty of time for you to work on a dance.”

Heejin flinches and bashfully looks at you. “I may have told him it was an original.”

“No. Step over with your right and bring your hand up like this, then step back with your left and slide your right leg out in a circle so your feet are crossed.” You repeat the steps to Heejin slowly then wait in the final position for her to retrace the steps after you.

After the first day, Heejin came in with you, you two spent hours in her room searching for a good song to make a choreo to. At first, she wanted to go with one of the songs from Hope World, but you convinced her otherwise, viewing her dancing to one of Hoseok’s song to Hoseok as too….enthusiastic. And a lot of the songs you felt you would be able to work with, she shot down. Luckily, you were able to agree on a song before 3 a.m.

The second-day Heejin came into work with you, you showed her your hidden dance studio and had begun building the choreography once you got off your shift. It surprised you how much you had to teach Heejin considering she was the official trainee and all the experience you had, came from following videos on a small screen and hiding behind a two-way mirror. Then after a few days passed did Heejin finally get the hang of some of the moves you felt were easy. But two days away from meeting with Hoseok and Heejin still struggling with a quarter of the choreo had you extremely worried.

Heejin’s shoulders slumped and she pulled her t-shirt up to wipe her face. “This is useless. I keep forgetting steps.”

“Let’s just take a break and come back to it.”

You walked across the room to your duffle bag and took a swig from your water bottle before squatting down and checking your phone.

“Hey, Y/N?” You lift your head to look at Heejin. “Thank you for helping me. I know I’m not the nicest-Hoseok! Hi!” Heejin cuts herself off as she suddenly yells and you have to look at the mirror to see why she suddenly veers off topic.

You see Hoseok peaking through the door through the mirror and you turn your whole body to look at him directly. The breath is knocked straight from your lungs and you’re suddenly panicking about not bringing a bottle of deodorant and perfume with you.

Hoseok gives a shy smile and steps further into the room. The way his eyes linger on you causes a blush to spring to your face and you bow to hide it from him. “Hi, sorry, I heard music in here and wanted to see who was in here.”

The door shuts behind Hoseok and his back becomes straighter as loses his nervousness. He points to Heejin, “You’re the girl that wanted me to see her dance, right?”

Heejin excitedly shakes her head. “I was actually just working on that now,” she laughs.

“Oh. Do you want to just show me now?”

Knowing how far behind Heejin is from where you want her to be, you try to step in and say something but she cuts you off right as you open your mouth.

“Yes! Of course,” she nervously laughs again, “I actually choreographed the whole thing a couple days ago so I don’t have all of it.”

For the second time tonight, the breath is knocked from you but for an entirely different reason. You clench your jaw as you hear Hoseok give Heejin a reassurance. This was for her, not you, you have no right to be angry.

Hoseok tilts his lips up at you and quietly moves to stand next to you. Extremely close. You can feel the sleeve of his shirt brush against your bare arm and now you’re really wishing that you had overloaded on the deodorant before coming to the studio. You try to keep your eyes forward to prevent Hoseok from catching you glancing at him, but your eyes lock with each other occasionally and you force your eyes back on Heejin.

Her movements are sloppy. Something you would expect from a dancer, not quite a beginner but not advanced yet. Each step shows that she has a background in dance but no experience with the choreo she’s trying to execute at this exact moment. And for that, you want to wrangle her neck for trying to perform your choreo before she’s ready for someone of such a high caliber.

That’s part of the reason why you keep glancing at Hoseok. You keep expecting to find a glint of amusement in his eyes or him working to keep his lips in a straight line, but he’s as professional as you’ve heard. His eyes are calculating watching Heejin and you can see him finding ways she could improve and ways the choreo can be improved. You wish it was you his eyes were centered in on and not Heejin.

“That’s as far as I’ve gotten.” Heejin turns to face Hoseok.

His arms are crossed and you feel your heart pounding in your chest as you wait for him to tear apart your choreo. He gives a long glance to you before stepping towards Heejin.

“It’s good. Though….instead of turning to your left at the one part, it would be easier for you to spin so your facing right so you can just go into the next move like that,” Hoseok snaps his fingers. Heejin rapidly nods, soaking in Hoseok’s words. “Other than, I would just work on cleaning up a lot of the steps. Work on isolations.”

Hoseok patted Heejin on the shoulder then turned to you. His eyes moved around your face for a second before he cleared his throat and bowed, which you reciprocated. And just as quickly he came, he was gone.

You lazily picked at the food on your plate as your sisters, mother and her boyfriend animatedly talked around you. This was the fourth or fifth time he’s joined for family dinner and needless to say, your mother and him were still in their honeymoon phase. And needless to say, it was incredibly annoying.

“Y/N, you’ve barely touched your plate.” You want to slap the concerned look off of his face.

“I’m allergic.”

“Oh, that’s right!” your mother humorously smacks her forehead making everyone but you to laugh. “Why don’t you make yourself something to eat then come back and join us.”

You push your plate away from you and lean back in your chair. “It’s fine.”

“Mmm,” your mother’s boyfriend finishes chewing his food, “How did it go with Hoseok?”

“Ugh, I think I’m in love with him. It went so well. He told me I did a good job and even gave me some pointers on ways I could improve.”

“See-” your mother beams at Heejin, “What did I tell you? I’m sure he’s already mentioned something to his manager about you.”

It makes you feel better that your youngest sister seems to be in a bad mood too now, though it’s most likely because of jealousy towards Heejin. Though the solidarity between the two of you right now doesn’t stop the bile from rising in your throat. You knew you barely knew Hoseok yourself but after spending countless hours copying behind a mirror formed a connection to him.

“Can I be excused? I just remembered some friends invited me out and I want to go meet them.”

“Absolutely not. We are eating dinner,” your mother glares at you.

“Come on, hun. She’s an adult, let her go.” your mother’s boyfriend reaches out and caresses her hand and you can see her gaze softening. She breathes in deeply through her nose so the muscles in her neck become visible before she exhales and nods her head. You shoot up from your chair and slam the front door behind you as you all but run from the house.

You slide into your car and drive to the one place you feel most at home.

“I didn’t think I’d actually be able to catch you alone.”

You spin away from the mirror to see Hoseok standing in the doorway. You can hear men’s voices coming from the hallway and you assume it’s his other members on their break.

Your cheeks heat up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d actually see me. I’ll leave.”

“No, no, no,” Hoseok’s arms shoot out and he hesitantly walks towards you. “Don’t leave. I’m glad you’re here.”

“I saw you a couple weeks ago...dancing.” You watch him cautiously. This is the moment he’s going to tell you-you're not allowed to be here. “I tried to talk to you but you kind of ran away,” he laughs.

You look down to the floor and mumble out an apology.

“Oh no, don’t be sorry!” Hoseok forces you to lock eyes with him. “I probably didn’t hand that good.” He falls into an awkward silence before he breathes in deeply, “Can I admit something to you?”

You peer up at him curiously and nod your head.

“I saw you the entire time...behind the mirror,” the tips of his ears turn red, “I mean, I couldn’t see who you were but I could see you dancing and you’re really talented. That’s why I wanted to meet you so badly. At first, I thought your friend was you when she said she wanted to dance for me but then seeing her actually dance-it looked nothing like you. The moves were yours but it just seemed….off.”

You breathe out a sharp puff of air. “Wow, uh,” your cheeks turn red and you fight the smile threatening to take over your face, “thank you. That means a lot.”

Hoseok bows his head. You both stand in front of each other, too nervous to continue speaking and neither wanting to take the first step to leave.

“Can I admit something else?” Hoseok looks at you nervously.

“Yeah,” you breath and clear your throat.

Your eyes flicker to Hoseok licking his lips. He must have caught you because his lips tilt upwards into a quick smirk and he gains some confidence. “I think you’re beautiful.” Hoseok watches as your eyes widen and your face grows red. “Would you want to go out with me sometime? You could always show me some of your moves.”

Tags: @detectivebourbon @eshika0102 @omgsuperstarg

Natural Instinct - scene

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As far as second lives went it wasn't that bad.

"Jana?" mother of this body called. "Could you wash the dishes?"

She called back in affirmative before fishing for a bookmark to mark the page. Jana rushed to the kitchen ruffling the hair of her two younger sisters before getting to work.

When she was young, in her previous life, she loved washing dishes by hand; a silly tradition really and one she hated doing in the winter because back in her previous life there was no hot water in the kitchen. Here there were no such setbacks.

That made her cry sometimes.

The Sable family lived in a small village named Plume; on a Summer Island called Hook Island, Grand Line, Paradise.

First time she learned of this Jana had been torn between laughter and sobbing, not that she could be blamed for that, knowing the dangers of the world she was born in.

Clinking of the plates calmed her, smell of detergent made her focus on her work; but her mind did drift into slight introspection as these were all practiced movements. There was plenty to wash, their family ran an Inn - or rather her grandmother ran an Inn and the rest of the family just happened to live here.

This was one of grandmother’s grumbling complaints, so Jana had little issue lending a hand.

When she realized where she was, at age of three, she threw herself into reading any book she could reach. She considered herself very lucky to be born as a nobody and far away from the plot as possible; but she knew it might not stay that simple.

What if one of the more horrid pirate crews anchored here? what if pirates attacked her village? what if Marines decided to kill her entire island off?

What if, what if.

There was a myriad of possibilities that could end their peaceful lives here.

Gol D. Roger was executed when she was three, which left her quite some time until plot happened, assuming she didn't die before then, due to whatever. After all the main plot is not all there is.

One thing that she was certain of was that no one could know of the knowledge she possessed. It would place her family in danger, an entire world in danger, should there exist a person whose Devil Fruit could read minds.

Jana wanted to take no chances.

Best way to confuse a mind reader, who probably wouldn't be looking for any information under 'reincarnation' was to hoard huge amounts of knowledge. That was Jana’s take on the issue.

Little bits and pieces that would become credible clues to things she knew from before. Just so that a possible mind reader - and it was quite possible such a Devil Fruit existed - would consider her an investigator rather than an outsider with knowledge of the future.

She unplugged the sink and watched the soapy water drain away. Jana knew her parents were worried that she had no aspirations outside of reading and training her dog.

She smiled as she dried the plates.

How happy they were that she finally had a friend of sorts. Even if it was an animal. Jana had never been able to connect to her older sisters, not in the way sister's might; as she treated all four, both the younger and the older set of twins, as children.

Which they were, but being a young girl in body made it seem weird to others even if Jana was mentally thirty, twenty three years older than her body.

As soon as she was done she called to her grandmother that she was going out and grabbed her book again. "Jana!" her mother called out before she could disappear. "Don't forget to clean your room if you want to go with your father tomorrow!"

"I won't!" a rare grin spread across her face. She loved going with her father to the bigger city. A city that reminded her of her past life with it's tall buildings and numerous roads. No cars unfortunately, but still nostalgic. Jana loved to explore while her father did his work for the building company.

As an architect in a city like that he had no shortage of work; more than in their village of course, as pirates were more prone to anchoring and destroying in bigger cities.

While she did get in trouble sometimes, Jana was usually fast and nimble enough to escape and drunkards and delinquents that wanted to harm her.

After one incident which granted her a cut on her upper arm she made sure to run every morning if only to build up stamina.

This payed off in the busy streets of Lissel City where she learned to weave in and out of crowds with impressive speed, and manage to get back to her father unharmed every time since.

There were some of her father's friends that taught her how to punch properly once she returned with a black eye, courtesy of a fisherman's son who wanted to rip her book (he looked worse).

Her parents might have been worried that she would become a delinquent or a criminal, but her sisters pitched in with evidence that most kids in their nearby school were just jealous of Jana's smarts. After the elder twin's pleading she was left alone about any scrapes she gained, and if her father encouraged her to learn some self-defense and her grandmother looked suspiciously proud that was another matter entirely.

It was after the incident with Marines that her father encouraged her to broaden her physical training.

Jana didn't trust Marines, not by a long shot.

Mostly due to the fact that she was privy to their dirty secrets than anything else. Logically she knew there were good and bad Marines, in relation to civilian populace, just as there were many types of Pirates no matter what World Government said.

It was due to this that she gave Marines she encountered a benefit of doubt.

That was her first mistake.

Honestly, though, she knew there were some brutes out there, but to physically attack a seven year old was over the top. She didn't even bump into them or anything and being addressed as 'Hey you' didn't really clue her in that they were talking to her.

Jana returned home with a broken arm and an angry expression. Her parents panicked in short order, but only looked resigned when she said that it was the Marines.

That was the day she learned that her grandfather had been a pirate.

She also learned that Marines looked for any excuse to bring their family down. Villagers around here didn't like the Marines either, especially since they knew the Sable family and had no issue over long dead pirate relative. It was a small town, a close knit community.

Even if they had issues with each other, they had more beef with the Government.

Marines excused this as prevention. Keeping an eye on them in case any of them decided to turn pirate. Her parents' worry over her injuries looked to gain more weight with every moment.

It was the city dwellers who helped her once they heard her scream out from the pain; they escorted her back home after filing a complaint against the Marines. Her parents thanked them, but didn't expect it to go though, these things never did they said.

It was the first time they inflicted a serious bodily injury to a member of the family and her father worried that it might escalate.

That was the reason he introduced a broader training routine into Jana's schedule. Her elder sisters used to have their own when they were her age, but they were also less prone to getting in trouble.

Jana thought that this was the issue of her mental and physical age difference because she tended to mis-estimate danger.

It happened many times, but it was this time that she didn't manage to escape. Not that Jana made any mention of those previous times, not wanting to worry anyone, but it was this time that such an error was brought to her attention violently.

Three months passed since then. During the first month Jana shied away from people more than ever and her family fretted that her trust in people was broken irreparably.

What they didn't realize that it was her trust in herself that had been broken.

Jana grew more and more uncertain of her own knowledge of people, interactions and emotions.

Because, why couldn't she read the situation that time-why couldn't she see?!

It was Luca, her dog, who saved her. It was him who really saved her. Her family saw him bring her out of her shell, but they didn't see the whole picture.

Jana learned quickly that Luca was a good judge of character, he could smell it, sense it, whatever it was that he could do; he could definitely tell people's intentions. Jana let him take the wheel.

Everywhere she went Luca followed and Jana took cues from him.

From his slanted ears, bristling fur, bared teeth or low growls. She attuned herself and her observations according to him and pulled through.

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Fic Masterlist

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[ jeon jungkook. / male. / he/his. ] i heard han jaesung is going into business with their friends, but the twenty-five year old can’t go wrong with nine other people helping, right? they’re a former sous chef, but will be a chef at joliet bed & breakfast! their insensitive yet dependable personality is pretty fitting for that, i guess. the sight of them gives me the vibe of midnight drive-ins, humming to yourself as you work, a breeze ruffling through a clothesline and that one clip of a deflated dancing pikachu getting hauled off stage, and seeing that running across the sand is pretty sweet.

fabric softener, that one clip of a deflating dancing pikachu getting hauled off-stage, curling up in freshly warmed sheets, sizzling plates, the slow drag of a bow over a violin, bus rides with your head leaned against the window, earphones at full blast, midnight drive-ins, humming to yourself as you work, singing when you think you're alone, the beach at sunrise, a breeze ruffling through a clothesline

hi i’m miki and i’m excited 2 b here!!! this is m’boy jason (or jae, or jaesung) and he’s fairly new SO!!!! smash that like and i’ll come to u for plotting!

the stats

full name: jaesung “jason” han nicknames: jae, jayjay, jason, son, han solo age: 25 birthday: december 12 languages: english, korean, minimal japanese education: institute of culinary education graduate occupation: chef at joliet bed and breakfast, part-time food blogger hobbies: violin, eating, sleeping, collecting rock records, sketching mbti: entp blood type: b+ zodiac: sagittarius hogwarts house: gryffindor alignment: chaotic ANNOYING! sexuality: bisexual drinking, smoking, drugs: yes, yes, only marijuana faceclaim: jeon jungkook likes: rock music, classical music, herbal tea, garlic bread, any food in general, freshly washed sheets, dogs, astronomy, raccoons, coin laundries, anything vintage, horror films and documentaries, fiction books, wildlife, his motorcycle anubis (a super sexy harley davidson…he’s got that bad boy aesthetic going on but he is FAR from being one), his lil hamster bonnie dislikes: birds, horror films, anything scary, bitchy customers, stale coffee, fizzy drinks, people who are rude to service staff, cats (the film), spiders, korea’s educational system, the loch ness monster, soy milk

the biography

—o1. jason grew up in a modern korean household in maryland; his parents are more open-minded than the traditional korean family, so there’s really no dramatic backstory to write. he’s the eldest of three siblings, and they’re pretty much a tight-knit family. while he was encompassed by a totally western environment, his family never failed to remind them of their roots; they would travel to korea every summer to visit his grandparents in seoul.

—o2.  as a child, jason’s favourite past-time was watching his parents cook. his father is a renowned celebrity chef of a five-star restaurant in la, and his mother was the owner of a quaint bakery in ocean city. soon enough, his father was teaching him the basics of cooking. he was a natural, and by high school, he was on his way into becoming a chef like his father. the path to his dream career had been an easy one; his parents were well-known, and through family connections, jason earned himself a spot in one of the best culinary schools in the world: the institute of culinary education.  

—o3. wherever jason went, he was overshadowed by the family name. he loved his parents, he really did, but being the son of joowon han came with a privilege, of sorts. a privilege that he hated. people were convinced that jason only managed to get in ICE was because of his family background. he’d often hear whispers from peers; he was often criticised for depending on his parents—which was true, in a sense. jason didn’t have to worry about anything. while his fellow classmates were worrying over their career paths, he had a sous chef position waiting for him at his father’s restaurant right after graduation.

—o4. being the youngest sous chef in a five-star restaurant was difficult. twenty-one year olds weren’t taken seriously in the kitchen. especially not the head chef’s son, who was fresh out of culinary school and looked so out of place, with his dark leather jacket and ripped jeans. jason struggled the first few months; while  the people were cordial around his father, he had to endure passive-aggressive comments about his privilege behind the scenes. jason wanted to make a name for himself; he didn’t want to be reduced to a celebrity chef’s son who just got lucky. so he worked—he worked and worked and worked until the jealous muttering stopped and he gained the respect of his subordinates.

—o5. after three years into working with his father, the enthusiasm ebbed and jason felt nothing but dissatisfaction. he didn’t want this—he didn’t want to be clinging on to his father for support his entire life. fearing that his passion for cooking will wither if he kept on working at the restaurant, he quit and moved back to maryland, getting a place for himself and eager to learn to stand on his own two feet.

in-depth

—a natural-born leader: working as a sous chef enabled jason to have a great command of handling a team. at first, he had been meek, but through determination and his sheer drive to prove the negative people in his life wrong, he was able to cultivate himself into a good leader. in the kitchen, jason is totally in his element, oozing with confidence and assertiveness.

—the dependable one: jason is organised and he’s the type of person who you can rely on for help. he prioritises his friends and family over anything else. need someone to drive you home? jason’s the guy for you. suffering from a bad hangover? he’s got the perfect hangover shake. you lost your house keys and need a place to stay? jason’s got an extra room in his apartment ready. jason is always making sure his friends are well cared for. and probably also giving them lectures whenever they make questionable choices.

—this bitch is impulsive: as much as jason has his shit together, jason can be impulsive—you might catch him splurging on the new yeezy shoes, or planning a spontaneous, overpriced trip to the bahamas. he likes having fun, and sometimes, that energy gets him into tricky situations. he really likes spending money, and unfortunately, his parents never taught him the important value of thriftiness.

—sometimes he can be harsh: jason had been pampered all throughout his life, and sometimes he disregards other people’s feelings because he is simply oblivious—brutal honesty is a double-edged sword. it takes a lot to piss him off, because he’s rather good at handling his emotions, but when you successfully do, it’s not a pretty sight. he tends to say things he doesn’t mean in the heat of the moment. in addition, jason tends to hold grudges; if someone has done him wrong, you bet your ass he’ll never look at you the same way ever again.

+: energetic, headstrong, intuitive, protective

-: argumentative, insensitive, over-analytical, rash

miscellaneous

— drives around town with his bike! he has a car but it’s parked in his childhood home… he doesn’t really use it that much unless he needs to go out of the state or something

— has a white lil pet hamster named bonnie...she is his CHILD!!!!!! — he has a food blog that he constantly updates for fun; his following is steadily going up... amazin....

— has always been an artsy kid... if he didn’t like cooking so much he would’ve pursued a career in art — always seems to be snacking on something? raw carrots in particular...... — he is also a gym rat! he eats a damn lot, so he’s gotta burn those calories, right? he usually jogs early in the morning and goes to the gym after work — he’s played the violin ever since he was a child! he wants to learn how to play the guitar but he keeps on procrastinating

the wanted connections (if any of these interest you, hit me up! some are more detailed than others but all of them are open to modifications tbh, we can develop them however we want :) feel free to  choose multiple plots..,.,. go crazy)

— vibe check. - sometimes, he forgets to take care of himself and this person!!!! is his mom friend, the terry to his jake peralta, the person he can count on when he’s crossfaded in the middle of nowhere at 3 in the morning. (ivy)

— bff. - the ride or die. the one person jason would literally murder for. he loves them and  considers them as his family. they are 100% with each other and? both are probably equally chaotic sfjldsdjfhsdlk (minnie)

— the squad. - i really love the idea of jason having three close friends! i can see them going on spontaneous trips and doing really, really dumb shit in general dsjfls (1/3) — the roommate. - PLS! he needs a roommate...imagine the domesticity i’m WEAK (minki)

— buzzfeed unsolved. - jason believes in the supernatural. this person doesn’t. jason spends a lot  of his free time trying to convince this person that ghosts are, in fact, real, often taking them to ‘haunted’ places and attempting to summon spirits through his ouija board. (minnie)

— i’m baby. - basically, jason dotes on this person like a mama bird. he cooks them meals, drives them to places and always keeps an eye out for them. — the confidant. - the person he could say he truly trusts the most; while jason is generally sociable, he finds it hard to open up to people, preferring to be the confidant than to confide in his friends. they’re the first person he runs to when he’s upset or stressed. (sienna)

— friends. - open to multiple of all types (fellow foodie, gym buddies, unlikely, one-sided, frenemies, neighbors, etc.)

— flings, hookups, fwbs. - open to multiple. (can be messy, can be casual)

— exes. - jason has lived in ocean city all his life, so anything is possible! they could’ve been at the same high school, maybe they broke up because jason moved to new york and the relationship fizzled out, they could be on good terms or bad terms………GIVE ‘EM TO ME (sienna; exes on good terms with a tiny bit of unresolved feelings)

— the pianist. - this is a lil specific, but basically i imagine jason having participated in music competitions and performed in galas, and this person is their partner!! their other half!!! the nodame to his chiaki!!!! if ur muse can play the piano pls hmu this is just a really cute relationship that i cant stop thinkin about bc jason is a violin nerd (ivy)

— romance. - i’m a hoe for spicy plots! i don’t really want to give out anything specific, but some suggestions aaaare: opposites, exes w/ feelings, one-sided love, skinny love, a love-hate relationship….. 

feel free to go through my wanted connections tag for inspiration!

below the cut, there’s some information about my characters. i’m going to update this later because i can’t keep looking at it but annaleigh and evan are all completed for now ! 

𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉 𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒘   

brave little foot soldier you have more courage than sense and i’m not quite sure what to make of you. kneel a wayward child and rise a hunter of artemis. glittering silver bow and quiver and arrows made of materials that only gods can think of. glittering circlet on your head identifies you as a favored champion. do not disappoint the one whose gifts keep you standing. 

annaleigh barrow has a particular prowess in archery and incredibly vision at night. at just twenty five, for the last hundred and fifty years, give or take, they have faithfully served the goddess artemis as one of her hunters. though only at the nemean lion for the last five years, they have taken a liking to this place and serve as one of artemis’ representatives. you can typically find them in the armory, working. 

on history

annaleigh has been twenty five for about a hundred and fifty years. 

they were born in 1838 and a middle child in a family of ten.

anna’s mama got pregnant by apollo after her fourth or fifth and anna was born ! totally not a surprise to anna’s mama that a result of an affair would join the family. 

they’d grown up watching their brothers help their father hunt for food but they were never allowed to join and relegated to the more feminine tasks.

when the war rolled around, they were living in the border state of virginia during the war, extremely close to the borderline with maryland. 

anna’s family chose the confederacy. anna chose the union. 

she abandoned her family for the war effort in 1862, joining with a group of women who had medical training as nurses to follow the union army as closely as they could for the preservation of life. anna, bolder than most, had a tendency to go with some soldiers into battle.

in 1863, a few months before their 25th birthday, anna laid their brother to rest and sent home a letter to their mother. to this day, she doesn’t know if they actually read the letter or burned it like they had with the others. 

1863 was an auspicious year for anna. it was the year they almost died. 

in a haze of pain and death and gore, artemis appeared to a bleeding out anna and promised respite. in exchange for their life, anna became one of artemis’ hunters. 

home had never felt real until they’d joined the hunters. 

once a child now a warrior grown, anna has excellent aim and control when it comes to utilizing the gifts of artemis and they only ever want to bring pride to the title of hunter.

they’re well known for getting women home safely and taking down their fair share of would be assaulters — most of them have a broken nose by the time they’ve been picked up by the cops.

anna has a particularly intimidating look to them and they like to keep most people at an arm’s length away. 

it feels easier that way than to lose people that they care about.

𝒆𝒗𝒂𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍

i hear your mother in your infectious laughter and i see your father in your arms, strong and compassionate. i see your step mother in your quick tongue. she was your mother’s gift to your father, after you. she also did right by you, i know that by the way she gave you those little girls who comprise your world. son of aphrodite your blessings are numerous, her love for you present in your everyday. 

evan lowell has a stunning gift, if i do say so myself. mama gifted him the ability to petrify his enemies with a kiss. imagine how that went over the first time. it’s gotten better over the years, and he certainly does his mama proud, but he’s been at lowell longer than most, almost since it opened. maybe that’s why he’s notorious for being the first to chomp at the bit to go on missions ( well, until his baby girls arrived ). now he’s in his office, twin girls running around.

on history

evan lowell doesn’t have a lot of bad days. even the days where things seem like they’re world endingly bad, good always cropped up for him. 

he had a really good childhood, surrounded by little siblings. 

evan’s dad, aiden, met his now-wife, drew ( short for druella ), about ten months after evan was born. aiden and drew have had six kids together, making evan the oldest of seven. he has Always had that Tired Dad aesthetic going on, even though he’s only two years older than his nearest sibling in age. 

evan was always involved in what his little siblings were doing and how he could help his parents. 

he has incredibly fond memories of helping his mama around the house with the chores. by seven he was washing windows and vacuuming like a champ. he had a love for order in the chaos of their household and his desire for a close knit family started here, in these moments. 

drew also taught him how to cook. aiden couldn’t cook for shit and drew thought that at least one of the lowell men should get a grip and learn how to. she also taught him most of the other household skills he knows, from changing a lightbulb to fixing the weather stripping on doors. aiden also taught evan how to work with most tools. 

this close family dynamic set evan up well for his future and for how he treats his own children. but first, we should rewind a little bit. 

evan had Big Fuckboy Energy when he was in high school. he was a jock ( football in the fall, baseball in the spring ), he was voted homecoming and prom king his senior year, and everyone saw him with a revolving door of girls around him. 

this perception is extremely funny to evan, because he grew up incredibly respectful and desiring a relationship like his parents, one as loving and full of laughter. evan never had more than one partner at a time, and his gentle heart was broken pretty easily. high school isn’t the time to be seeking commitment but that’s pretty much what evan desired from the time he could stumble around on his little feet. 

skip forward to age 23. evan met caroline. 

he thought he was going to marry this girl, he was so in love with her. but some things ! they’re just not meant to be ! 

 but lmao he did get her pregnant so that worked out great. 

they’re actually on good terms and they have a court order in place, just in case. they don’t ,,, usually follow it. they co-parent effectively and he still spends most major holidays with her so that the girls don’t feel isolated from one parent or another.

caroline has a girlfriend now, her name is ismelda ! they’re very happy and evan really likes her. 

the twins aren’t totally fleshed out yet but in my defense they are four so they’re still working on developing into their own little people. their names are natalie and nicole. 

𝒌𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒎𝒄𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒆

modern day witch aesthetics don’t begin to cover this kind of power. rose quartz lined windowsills meet tarot readings at midnight and sing the song of a queen of water; that song is about yourself. the  desire to run defeated by roots you didn’t mean to lay.

katharine mcclure spends a lot of time training others in the gym, it’s something that she enjoys doing. she’s intertwined with the weave of her mother’s magic, a gift she shares with most of her siblings. this little girl sewed chaos everywhere she’s been and only changed her ways when she got here. perhaps it’s because she wanted somewhere to belong, wanted somewhere to god. 

on history

katharine mcclure grew up in solitude, not that she minded much. 

her magic manifested itself early and for that she’ll always be thankful. 

she may not have had the best intentions at all times but it’s fine. no one died. 

that she knows of. 

i’ll update this ,,,, more ,,, soon, ,, i promise.

𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒂 𝒐'𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒌𝒆 

a child born of love and hardship, living and dead, she is a melancholic kind of beauty. her eyes sparkle with knowledge long since forgotten and twinkle with life. the voices that trail through her mind aren’t always hers but she understands the desire of wanting to be heard, wanting to be loved, wanting to move on from where they feel trapped. so she helps them. maybe that’s why papa left at eight years old after dropping her off at the nemean lion. maybe that’s why she grew up so lonely. 

melissa o’rourke typically sits at the counter in the lobby as an attendant. there are spirits there who flit about and talk to her, thankful for the first time in years someone could understand them. she just smiles and listens and these things have made her kind. they’re also gossip fonts, those pesky spirits, and people tend to be surprised by the things she knows. she’s been here a long time, a fixture of this place.  

on history

soon

𝒐𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒈𝒆

in the name of the father, son, and holy spirit. i’m sorry that i press flowers between pages, i just want to preserve a beauty that is fleeting. i’m sorry violence comes from this act. i’m sorry because i don’t feel good enough, like i’m undeserving, like i’m not supposed to be here. is that because i’m the son of a man who holds open the gateway to death or is that because i’m the son of a woman who has never spent more than a week with me at a time? please let me skip to the part where i’m actually happy and not just pretending for the sake of pretending. amen. 

son of hades your bones sing a thousand songs and you don’t want to hear any of them. oliver henstridge grew up relatively well off, but you don’t come to the nemean lion at thirteen because your relationships with the mortal part of your family are all that great. he’ll leave for a week at a time every six to ten months to spend some time with his mother but usually he’s somewhere around the nl, being bothersome, making tiktoks, whatever he feels like doing in the moment. for a boy with the ability to manipulate shadows, to bend that piece of reality to his will and step through them like doors to the other side of the world, he certainly doesn’t take anything too seriously.

on history

soon

on wanted connections

soon

This Girl Ain’t Going Anywhere: 1/2

Here it is – the fic I’ve been working on for @katie-dub's birthday! Darling, I hope you had a fantastic day! I know this is even later than I had promised because it’s past midnight now where you are, but this one just kind of got away from me. I realized when I hit 6,000 words that it was going to have to be a two-parter. But I still refuse to have another WIP – I won’t be working on anything else until I finish part two. I cannot handle one more WIP – you hear me muse?!?

Anyways, for those of you who don’t know @katie-dub, she is an incredibly talented writer who achieves one of the hardest things in my opinion – humor. I laugh so much when I read her fics! Yet she also tugs at my heart strings. She also was sweet enough to chat with me during my mini-crisis while writing my csbb when my beta @distant-rose introduced us. We just talked about our kids, which always puts things in perspective! Thank you for taking the time to reach out to me, sweetie, it meant so much! Anyways, I hope you like this Enchanted Forest AU in which Liam Jones is very much alive and a pirate along with his brother. Part Two will be coming soon, I promise!

Summary: The Brothers Jones have built a reputation as the most feared pirates in all the realms. When they hear of the bounty on the heads of two princesses - The Princess of Fire and the Princess of Ice – they don’t hesitate to set sail on the Jolly Roger to hunt them down. But have the Brothers Jones finally met their match?

Rating: T

Also on Ao3 and part of my Fandom Birthday Playlist

Tagging the usuals: @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @teamhook @bethacaciakay @snidgetsafan @kday426 @delirious-latenight-laughs @let-it-raines @xhookswenchx @optomisticgirl  @welllpthisishappening @wellhellotragic

I've been a winding road, oh, I know you know. Sometimes a stranger in my home. Keep going back and forth through the open door. I'm still learning to be still. This girl ain’t going anywhere. I can promise you this, now I know for sure. This girl ain’t going anywhere.

 Captain Liam Jones stood at the bow of the Jolly Roger, his hands clasped behind his back. His first mate, Killian Jones, approached him with a confident stride. He took his place beside his brother, his own shoulders back, his own hands clasped behind his back. The younger Jones fit the look of a pirate with his long leather coat, his crimson vest, the kohl around his eyes, the charms resting against his chest, and the piercings in his earlobes. Liam Jones, on the other hand, was dressed more simply. Still all in black, but his pants weren’t the tight leather of his brother’s and his shirt was of a simple muslin. A rapier left over from his naval days hung at his hip rather than the cutlass his brother carried.

“The crew have their orders, Captain,” Killian told his brother formally, still gazing out at sea, “we should arrive at the Misthaven port in a fortnight.”

“We aren’t navy anymore, little brother, there’s no need to be so formal.”

“Younger brother,” Killian corrected automatically, turning to study his brother’s profile, “but this particular venture brings those days back to the forefront, do they not?”

The piercing look Liam gave him communicated more than words that he didn’t wish to discuss it further. The two brothers‘ conversation was cut short anyway as a nervous, portly man rushed towards them, twisting his red knit cap in his hands.

“Beg your pardon, Cap’n,” Mr. Smee stuttered, “but the rest of the crew asked me to ask you . . . “

Liam sighed and rolled his eyes, “Spit it out, bos’un.”

“Doesn’t this job seem a little . . . dangerous?”

“Dangerous?” Killian snapped, striding into the man’s personal space. “Are we or are we not pirates, Smee? Danger is what we live for.”

“Um . . . yes, sir, it’s just . . . witch’s? One that can wield fire? I mean, a ship is made of wood -”

“The Jolly Roger is made of enchanted wood,” Liam snapped in defense of his ship.

“But is she fireproof, C-Cap'n?” Smee asked hesitantly. His cap was now damp in his sweaty palms.

“The Princess of Fire and the Princess of Ice is what they call them,” Liam replied, striding away from Smee as if dismissing his concerns completely, “not witches.”

Smee looked nervously at the younger Jones, not sure how this was supposed to ease the crew’s fears.

“Remind the crew of the bounty being offered on these two women by half the kingdoms in the realm,” Killian told him, “and if they question their captain’s orders again, walking the bloody plank will be their lot.”

Smee swallowed and replaced his cap on his head with shaking hands. “Y-yes sir.” He hurried away from the Brothers Jones.

Killian watched as Liam’s shoulders sagged and his chin dropped to his chest. Princess Emma of Misthaven had fled her kingdom after supposedly injuring her younger brother, Prince Leopold. Princess Elsa of Arendelle had likewise been supposedly banished after her ice magic erupted dangerously at her sister’s engagement ball. While Misthaven and Arendelle wanted their crown princesses unharmed, naturally, the rest of the realm was in a panic at what magic-wielding royals could do. In short, they were on the brink of war.

“Do you really think they’re together?” Killian asked softly.

“Aye, I do,” Liam said, his jaw clenching and his eyes flashing, “they were together often in their youth. Like sisters, everyone said.”

“Yes,” Killian said softly, leaving the obvious unsaid, “like sisters.”

********************************************************

The port of Misthaven was normally a difficult one for pirates. Queen Snow and King David were passionate about the safety of their people and brought swift judgment on anyone who threatened it. Yet with Camelot, Agrabah, Glowerhaven, and several other kingdoms mounting possible military might against them, Misthaven was too busy to think about pirates. Liam and Killian were free to scour the taverns and markets for any gossip that might lead them to Princess Emma’s hiding place while their crew restocked the ship. Yet their search for information led them to one dead end after another, and they ended the day back on the Jolly Roger unsure of what their next move should be. Blessedly, the answers they sought came to them.

“Permission to board!” a hooded figure called out. It was clearly a woman, and a young one at that, judging by her high, sweet voice.

“Maybe you should let me talk,” said a taller, broader figure at her side, also cloaked.

“I was taught to negotiate in the palace,” the first one hissed, “so let me do this.”

Killian and Liam exchanged knowing smiles.

“Permission granted,” Liam told her, then waited until she had stepped off the gangplank to add, “Princess Anna.”

The young woman gasped at first, then backpedaled. “What do you mean? I’m no princess, my name is . . . Joan.”

“Mhm,” Liam chuckled, then nodded at his brother with an unspoken order.

Killian sauntered to the young woman, ignoring the way her male companion stepped slightly in front of her protectively. He reached over the man’s shoulder and pushed the hood off Anna’s head.

“I see you’re still wearing your hair in braids,” Killian smirked, “just like when you were twelve and peeking around the columns while your sister danced with the naval officers.”

Anna’s eyes grew wide as she glanced between the two pirates. “So the rumors are true! You used to be in King George’s navy, and this ship used to be The Jewel of the Realm!”

“Aye,” Liam told her, “so what can we do for you, princess?”

Anna squared her shoulders. “We heard you asking around about Princess Emma’s whereabouts, and like you, I believe she and my sister are together. I also think I know where to look first. We know the bounty the other kingdoms are offering for their capture. We offer double to bring them home safely instead.” She pulled out a purple velvet pouch and tossed it to the ships’s deck. Gold coins spilled out. “That’s an advance – it's only ten percent of what you’ll get if you complete the mission.”

Killian knew what his brother would say, even as Liam pretended to think, weighing the coins in his hand. “I suppose twice the gold would be worth it,” the elder Jones finally answered, “but let me be clear, princess, this is a pirate ship. We take orders from no crown.”

“I understand,” Anna said with a tilt of her chin, “but I must demand that we go with you. In order to ensure my sister’s safety. Otherwise, we won’t share the information we have.”

“Demand?” Liam bit out, striding into Anna’s personal space.

Killian was impressed that the girl didn’t back down. Her companion – Killian wondered if it was her fiancé - lifted a placating hand.

“We will submit to your authority on this ship, Captain Jones,” the young man said with surprising diplomacy, “but we might need to set sail sooner rather than later?”

“Why is that?” Liam snapped.

“Because of the Camelot knights who recognized us in the market.” The man pushed his own hood back, and sure enough, it was the commoner Kristoff who had won the young princess’s heart.

Liam’s eyes widened, and he quickly turned to bark commands at his crew. Killian strode forward and jabbed a finger in the faces of their new passengers. “Get below deck and out of sight until we say otherwise,” he bit out. Damn royalty.

***********************************************

Killian was at the helm, and they were heading for Avra – one of the lonely islands. Anna had told them that her sister had written of the place in her journal. A sorcerer was rumored to live there who could “cure” those cursed with magic.

The stars twinkled overhead, and the rest of the crew as well as their guests had already turned in for the night. Killian was in no rush to lay on the floor of the captain’s quarters. It wasn’t that he minded giving up his own quarters for Princess Anna. He had endured worse sleeping arrangements duiring his days of servitude. It was the memories he knew would plague him as he waited for sleep to come. He wondered how long Liam would pore over the charts and maps littering his desk to avoid the exact same thing.

The quiet of the night was shattered by shouts. Killian’s eyes widened as members of the crew dragged a boy up to the top deck. The lad kicked and twisted in attempts to get free before being thrust at Killian’s feet.

“We found a stowaway,” Smee explained.

Killian frowned down at the boy. “I can see that. Why did you not take him to my brother?”

“We tried, he . . . uh . . wasn’t in the mood to be disturbed.”

Killian sighed and ran a hand down his face. “What’s your name, boy?”

“Murderer,” the child screamed, lunging for the pirate.

Killian just smiled in amusement as the crew held the boy back. “You have spunk, lad.” He leaned closer. “You’re right that I’m a murderer. I am a pirate, after all.”

“I won’t let you kill my mother!”

Killian’s jaw dropped. He scrutinized the boy’s face. “Why do you think I’m plotting to kill your mother?”

“Like you said, you’re a pirate. You’re hunting my mother for the bounty on her head.”

“And your mother would be . . . “

“Princess Emma.”

Killian blinked and shook his head. “The princess is unwed, she has no son.”

“A woman can have a child without a husband. Even I know that, and I’m only eight.”

Killian would have chuckled if the news hadn’t thrown him. He regarded the child quizzically as he rubbed his chin. He waved off the rest of the crew, and they headed silently below deck.

“When did you sneak aboard the Jolly?”

“As soon as you and the captain left. I’m small, so no one noticed.”

“Well then,” Killian told him with a smile and a slap to the shoulder, “you missed the big news. Princess Anna of Arendelle offered us twice the reward to help bring her sister and your mother home safely.”

Killian had to bite his cheek to hold back another chuckle as the boy regarded him suspiciously.

“Seriously?”

Killian arched a brow and pointed over the child’s shoulder. “Princess Anna is in my quarters. Do you wish to wake her and question her?”

“Um . . . no. I guess you wouldn’t make that up.

“What’s your name?”

“Henry.”

“And what exactly was your plan when you stowed away on a pirate ship, Henry? Fight us all for your mother?”

“If I had to,” Henry declared, sticking out his chest. Then he quickly deflated. “It’s my fault she ran away. She was afraid she’d hurt me.”

“Like she hurt Prince Leopold?”

Henry shook his head. “She didn’t hurt Prince Leo . . . she hurt me – but it was an accident!” He hurriedly defended his mother, his love for her clear in his tone.

Killian paced the deck, trying to reconcile things in his mind. “But I don’t understand. Prince Leo is still a boy himself, and yet you -”

“I’ve been hidden away,” the young prince explained. “and the math shouldn’t be that hard. You’re a sailor, aren’t you?”

Killian couldn’t hold back the chuckle this time. “Sarcastic like your mother, I see.”

Henry tilted his head. “You knew her?”

Killian waved a hand in front of him. “Only in the way I knew any royalty. From balls when I was a naval officer, diplomatic functions, that sort of thing. Your mother’s sharp wit was legendary.”

“Well, if you were in the navy, do the math. My Uncle Leo is 13, mom was 12 when he was born. Five years later, she had me.”

“At 17 . . . “ Killian’s voice trailed off. He shook his head to clear it. “And your father?”

“His name was Baelfire. That’s all I know. And that he’s gone.”

“Gone?”

“Died.” Henry shrugged as if it were just a fact. Clearly he never knew the man.

“And why have they hidden you away?”

“Like you said, Mother isn’t married. She never was.” The boy arched a brow at Killian’s

surprised expression. “What? Adults always assume that kids aren’t listening.”

Killian laughed and dropped a hand to the boy’s shoulder and squeezed affectionately. “I like

you already Henry. I believe a pirate’s life will suit you just fine.”

************************************************

Prince Henry was not at all like Killian would imagine a sheltered royal to be. He was full of awe and excitement about being at sea, not even frightened when the waves got rough. He also wasn’t afraid of hard work or learning things outside of his comfort zone, eagerly throwing himself amongst the crew and asking how he could help. He seemed drawn to Killian especially, asking him to teach him sailor’s knots and how to handle a sword like a pirate. He had obviously received training already on the latter, but his style of fighting was too refined and fair in Killian’s opinion.

“Your enemy will not follow the rules of engagement,” Killian told the boy, “so you must be willing to fight dirty in return.”

“How do you think his mother will feel about that?” Anna asked, arms crossed.

“She’ll thank me if it saves his life,” Killian snapped.

Figuring out where the boy would bunk was a problem. He and Liam were hesitant to let him sleep with the rest of the men in the crew’s quarters, even with Kristoff there, and it certainly wasn’t appropriate for him to stay with Killian and Liam. They finally decided it was best for Henry to bunk with Anna in the first mate’s cabin, cramped though it was. She was like an aunt to the boy, after all. Though if Killian had known how inquisitive the young prince was, he might have been a bit more careful about the belongings in his quarters.

“What is this?” Henry screamed one bright morning as he come above deck.

Killian turned from where he was checking the ship’s heading to find the boy trembling all over, red in the face and waving a piece of parchment. When Henry got close enough, he shoved it at Killian’s chest. The charcoal drawing had the air rushing from Killian’s lungs.

“That’s my mother!” Henry shouted, fisting both hands.

“I - I can explain -”

“Explain how you lied to me? I asked if you knew her!”

Killian sighed as he rubbed his forehead wearily. He was caught in a half truth, and there was no sense digging himself deeper with more lies. He looked down at the drawing, his thumb rubbing over the note sketched there in Emma’s handwriting.

“My dear lieutenant, when you sail away tomorrow, know that you take my heart with you. Love, Your Emma.”

He couldn’t help smiling remembering the sweet innocence of their love. How naïve they had been to think that fate would smile on them! Although, maybe it would have, if Killian had remained an honorable lieutenant and not turned pirate.

“Your mother loved me once,” he told Henry softly. “We were still children, really. She was but sixteen, and I was eighteen. We met at a ball. Your mother was irritated with her boring suitors, and basically threatened me to ask her to dance. To put her out of her misery, she said.’

Killian chuckled at the memory, settling on a crate, his eyes still fixed on the picture. Henry’s fists loosened, and his shoulders lowered. Killian kept talking, hoping the boy could hear the admiration in his voice.

“That one dance turned into many more. It was scandalous really for a mere naval lieutenant to monopolize the princess’s dance card. We shared our first kiss on a balcony hidden away from the rest of the crowd as fireworks burst in the air. It was your mother’s sixteenth birthday, you see.”

Henry deflated more, and sat on the crate next to Killian. “When did she give you the picture?”

“I drew it,” Killian told him. “King George was there for several weeks in negotiations to prevent war with Misthaven. Liam and I were part of his naval escort. Your mother and I spent much of that time together. We were having a picnic on the beach when I drew that. She gave it back to me before I left with that note scrawled on it.”

“But I don’t understand,” Henry muttered, “she had me a year later. You’re not -”

“No, Henry,” Killian told him with a clap to his shoulder, “though I would be honored to be your father. You are a bright lad. But my relationship with your mother was completely innocent.”

“But if she loved you so much, why was she ever with my father?”

Killian rubbed at his jaw, knowing he had to tread lightly. “That is a question for your mother, I’m afraid. I wrote to her after I left, but then the war started, and -”

“You turned pirate,” a trembling voice behind them finished.

Killian turned around, shocked to see Princess Anna standing there, her face pale. Her gaze cut from Killian and up to Liam, who had come down from the upper deck at some point as Killian had told his tale.

“Picnics on the beach, dancing at Emma’s ball with navy men,” Anna said in a trembling voice, “I may have only been twelve, but I remember it all now. You were the brothers who wooed my sister and her best friend. The ones who left them heartbroken.”

Liam’s head hung in shame. “I can’t speak for my brother, but I tried very hard not to fall in love with Elsa. I simply couldn’t help myself. It was so easy to get swept away and pretend that there could be a future for us. I was puffed up with pride, having just been made captain. The youngest to receive that honor at just twenty-two. But I should have known better, my brother and I both. They were crown princesses, destined for the throne.”

“But Grandpa was just a shepherd!” Henry argued.

Killian chuckled. “That’s what your mother said.”

“But he wasn’t a pirate,” Anna bit out, “do you know the nights my sister cried herself to sleep when word came that you had mutinied? Even then she clung to hope that you weren’t a cad, that you had your reasons, but then she never heard from you again!”

“How could I?” Liam shouted back. “If a naval captain had little chance, a pirate captain had none at all!”

“She gave you everything!” Anna shouted, shoving him in the chest.

Killian’s jaw dropped. Every member of the crew had frozen in place, the princess’s words like a thunderclap. Liam’s jaw clenched as he gazed down at Anna in silence.

“Do not speak to the captain of this ship in such a tone,” he seethed, “I told you, we bow to no crown.”

Anna lifted her hand, but before she could slap him, Liam grabbed her by the wrist. Kristoff shouted in anger, and Killian grabbed him by the shoulders before he could lunge at Liam and make things worse.

“I would think long and hard before you try and strike me again,” Liam warned. Then he barked at the crew to get back to work and marched below deck.

Anna crumpled to her knees, and Kristoff was immediately at her side. Killian went to follow his brother, but Anna reached up and grasped his arm to stop him.

“I didn’t mean to lose it like that,” she apologized. “I was so young. I didn’t understand why Elsa fell apart the way she did. It was only reading her journal after she was banished by my parents that I fully understood.” Anna released a slow breath. “She loved him. So much.”

All Killian could do was nod before going below deck. He felt his own anger well up as he shoved the door to his brother’s quarters open.

“And to think the entire time I was with Emma, I used your virtue as a plumb line,” Killian snapped. “Is what Anna said true?”

Liam collapsed onto his bunk, his head dropping to his hands. “God help me, it is. We had one night together before I left, and I like a fool promised her the world.”

Killian was at a loss as to what to say. There was a knock at the door, and Liam surged to his feet.

“Come in.”

The door swung open, and Anna and Henry stood there, faces hesitant.

“We were talking,” Anna said, her fingers twisting, “and we realized something.”

Henry jumped in. “You were never going after the bounty, were you? You were trying to protect them all along.”

The lines creasing Liam’s forehead relaxed. “Aye, lad, we were hoping to find them before anyone else did. We just couldn’t let our crew know that.”

Anna and Henry exchanged glances.

“Okay, then,” Anna said with a nod. “Good to know we’re all on the same page.”

The concerned sister and the worried son turned to go. Liam called out after them.

“We are still getting that reward, right?” he asked with a roguish grin. “I mean if a pirate can’t hope to marry a crown princess, he’s gotta make a living somehow.”

Anna quirked a smile in return. “We’ll wait and see how it all pans out. After all, I’m marrying an ice harvester.”

Henry walked over and gently placed the parchment he had found in Killian’s hand. “You dropped this.”

Killian looked down into the smiling face of Emma at sixteen, eyes bright and without a care in the world. Had she changed as much as he had? Had her innocence taken as severe a beating? He feared it was so, especially considering the strange circumstances of Henry’s birth.

“Thank you, lad. I’ll take better care of it from now on.”

“Good,” Henry told him simply, and he looked and sounded so much like his mother in that moment, that Killian’s heart ached.

************************************************

A thick mist surrounded the Jolly as they approached Avra, and the eerie quiet had the entire crew on edge.

They kept their heading, hoping there were no rocks or reefs. Killian looked through his spy glass, but the mist had turned to a thick fog.

“We may need to lay anchor until this fog lifts,” he told his brother as he pocketed the tool.

“I don’t think it’s the weather,” Liam told him quietly, “there’s something unnatural going on here.”

The words were barely out of Liam’s mouth when a haunting melody split the air. The brothers exchanged alarmed glances.

“Mermaids,” they both muttered.

“Bloody hell,” Killian bit out.

Liam began shouting orders to the crew to arm themselves and get to the railing. The melody ceased abruptly, and every person on board held their breath in the sudden silence.

It didn’t last long. Suddenly the ship was being hit from all sides, causing the Jolly to pitch from one side to the other. The mermaids let out piercing cries that split the air and frayed the nerves. The men shot their pistols, threw harpoons, or attempted to capture mermaids in weighted nets, but the aquatic army eluded all of them.

Anna rushed to the railing, squinting her eyes to try and see into the gloom. Kristoff shouted for her to get back as he pulled up yet another empty net. Anna ignored him and leaned forward, shouting her sister’s name. Henry joined her, shouting, “Mom! Mom, are you out there?”

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” Killian shouted at them, tossing aside his pistol and reaching for the boy. The ship rocked, and Killian grasped at empty air as Henry was flung overboard.

“Henry!” he screamed, hurriedly shedding his leather duster.

Before Killian could jump in after him, a head of bright red hair broke the surface of the water, and in the mermaid’s arms was Henry. Just as quickly as it had begun, the mermaids’ assault ended. The mist cleared, the sun shone, and an army of glittering tails swam away from the pirate ship.

The red-headed mermaid took the rope that had been tossed to her and tied it around Henry’s waist. Killian hoisted him up, and thankfully the boy only had to cough a few times in order to fully recover. Thanks to his rescuer, he had only been under for a moment or two. Killian grasped him by both shoulders, his heart still pounding.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Henry gasped, “thanks to her.”

The boy pointed, and Killian turned to see the mermaid with red hair standing on the deck of the Jolly Roger. At least he had thought she was a mermaid -

“Queen Ariel!” Anna cried, rushing to embrace her.

Realizing who she was, the crew of the Jolly sank immediately to one knee, head bowed and caps off except for he and Liam. So much for bowing to no crown. He knew his crew were still shaken by the mermaid attack, but did they have no self-respect? Liam seemed to agree, walking amongst his crew and smacking them on the head to get the bloody hell off their knees.

“My men,” Liam explained, striding with confidence to the mermaid queen, “will not bow to a creature who sends many a sailor to a watery grave.”

When the mermaid spoke, it was with a surprisingly sweet and innocent voice. “I don’t send anyone to a watery grave.” She used air quotes around the later. “Pirates are so melodramatic. The attack on your ship was merely for defense. When I realized who was on board, I immediately called it off.”

Anna gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “Defense? Are you defending my sister and Emma? Do you know where they are?” She bounced up and down on her heels, shaking Ariel by the arm a little.

Whether it was because she was another royal or because it was Ariel’s personality, the queen merely smiled at the other woman. “Yes.”

Anna threw her arms around the mermaid, but Liam and Killian exchanged wary looks. Kristoff evidently shared their concerns.

“Um, I don’t mean to put a damper on things,” Anna’s fiancé spoke up, “but didn’t your husband King Eric put a bounty out on the two princesses just like every other kingdom?”

Ariel frowned. “My husband felt he had no choice. King George and King Arthur are always eager for war. Siding against them was dangerous, but my husband sent me out to try and get to Emma and Elsa before anyone could collect the bounty. As many people know, Queen Snow is a good friend of mine.”

“And the attack on our ship?” Killian demanded. “You almost killed Prince Henry!”

“You’re flying a pirate flag!” Ariel snapped. “I thought you were here to capture the pincesses for the bounty on their heads.”

“I think we can all agree we’re on the same team,” Anna spoke up diplomatically.

“Yeah,” Henry cried out, scrambling to his feet, “can you take me to my mom now?”

Ariel gently cupped Henry’s face. “Just land on Avra and follow the middlemist roses. It will take you straight to Merlin’s abode. As for me, I must search the seas for other bounty hunters.”

She kissed Henry gently on the forehead, and before anyone could even thank her, she dived back into the waves.

************************************************

Anna, Henry, and Killian picked their way through a barely noticeable path. When Ariel had said “follow the middlemist roses,” she had failed to mention how they would be almost hidden amongst braken and thorns. It was clear that only those who knew where to look could find the path to this sorcerer's domicile.

Liam and Kristoff had stayed behind on the Jolly Roger. For one, they didn’t want to overwhelm the princesses or give them cause for suspicion. For another, they didn’t completely trust the crew not to turn tail and run. No honor among thieves and all of that.

Killian could have stayed behind just as easily, of course, but he knew why his brother had given him the order to take the royals ashore. His brother could face a naval fleet, a rival pirate crew, or even a kraken. But the woman he had jilted? Liam Jones was terrified, and Killian couldn’t say that he blamed him.

On the other hand, Emma had been the one to cut ties with Killian. Going so far as to have a child with someone else. Killian whacked at a vine with more force than necessary. The thought hurt. Yet the alternative, that Emma had come to be with child against her will, made him physically ill and blind with rage.

“There it is,” Anna whispered, falling to her knees and grasping both Killian and Henry by the elbow. Killian cursed at his distracted mind. To be out-tracked by a naïve princess! He looked where she pointed and saw a simple yet homey cabin built into a cave. Its earthen walls were covered in moss and more middlemist roses.

“What are we waiting for?” Henry asked impatiently. “I want to see my mom.”

Killian laid a hand on Henry’s shoulder. “But remember, my boy, the last time she saw you she accidentally hurt you with her magic. You don’t want to startle her.”

“He’s right, Henry,” Anna agreed, “Elsa hurt me too. I don’t blame her, and I’m not afraid of her, but I think . . . I think she’s afraid of herself, and that fear may rise up again when she sees me.”

“I understand,” Henry mumbled sadly.

“Who’s there?” a voice called out to their right just as the branches of a tree above their heads burst into flames. “That was a warning.”

“Mom!” Henry shouted, and nothing Anna and Killian did or said could keep him from jumping up from the bushes and running towards his mother’s voice.

“Henry?” Emma’s voice at first was full of love, tenderness, and a touch of pleasant surprise.

Killian eased forward so he could see more clearly between the branches. He felt the blood rush from his head when he saw her, golden hair tumbling loose down her back and clad in a filmy white dress. It made her look ethereal, but for the haunted look in her eyes.

As Henry ran towards her, the expression on her face changed to one of panic. “Stay back!” she warned him.

The boy slowed down, but he didn’t stop moving towards her. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“You should be,” she told him brokenly, tears beginning to roll down her face. “I love you so much, Henry, that’s why I had to go. To keep you safe.”

Henry took a few more steps forward, and the panic on her face increased. “Elsa!” she screamed.

“You’re afraid of hurting me, that’s the problem,” Henry continued, “just let the fear go.”

“It’s not that simple,” she told him, then once again yelled, “Elsa! Come quick! Henry, please stop and wait for Elsa.”

“Emma!” another voice shouted, and next to Killian, Anna gasped. He put a hand on the red-head's arm, and gave a slight shake of his head. Another blonde stepped out of the door of the cabin. “Emma, what’s going on -”

Emma didn’t look at her friend, but simply extended her arm. “Take my hand before I hurt him,” she practically begged.

Killian peered at Emma closely through the brush and noticed something for the first time. Emma’s hands were glowing and tiny flames danced along her fingertips. Elsa reached out towards her friend, her own hand blue and frosted over. When fire met ice, both women’s hands became mere flesh once again, and they both let out sighs of relief.

“Henry,” Emma said to her son, with a genuine smile on her face, her free arm outstretched.

Henry beamed and rushed forward, colliding with his mother and wrapping his arms around her waist. Emma embraced him with one arm, bending to kiss the top of his head, but her other hand remained firmly clasped in Elsa’s.

Anna practically trembled beside him before bursting from her hiding place and racing towards her sister. Elsa gasped her name, and when Anna reached her, she let go of Emma’s hand so the two sisters could hold each other in a tight embrace. Killian worried that their magic would flare again, but Emma seemed completely relaxed as she wrapped her other arm tighter around her son. Then she stepped back, tears marring her cheeks, cupping Henry’s face in her hands.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Mom.”

“What just happened?” Anna asked. “When you held hands -”

“It’s something the sorcerer Merlin taught us,” Elsa explained. “When our powers mingle, they cancel one another out.”

“But It’s only temporary,” Emma added, “our quest is far from over.”

“Although I don’t know how we’ll reach our next destination. It’s in a distant land, far from the Lonely Islands,” Elsa said.

“We can help! We can finish your quest with you!” Henry shouted excitedly.

Killian closed his eyes. Please don’t say it, please don’t . . .

“Liam and Killian have a ship!”

Killian winced. So much for easing Emma and Elsa into things. He rose from his hiding place, and for some reason he couldn’t even explain, he slipped into his pirate persona. He swaggered towards the princesses, cocky smirk in place. He even winked as Emma’s jaw dropped and her face went pale.

“Killian?” she gasped.

He tilted his head teasingly and quirked a brow. “Did you miss me?”