#Please let Lilia Calderu live please please please

[rippersz]

𝘍𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘞𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴

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(Lilia Calderu x Fem!Witchy!Reader) (NSFW Themes; Mostly fluff) (~9.1k words)

You are Lilia Calderu's roommate. You celebrate Christmas. Also, you are so undeniably, completely, totally, hopelessly, unbelievably (but also very believably) in love with her. Poor you.

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You wanted her. 

You wanted her so bad. 

Since the very day you met her, you wanted her. 

You wanted to hold her hand. You wanted to kiss her. You wanted to wake up next to her. 

Was that a crazy thing to say? A crazy thing to think? To want your boss/roommate like you wanted your boss/roommate? Maybe. Probably. But no one ever said matters of the heart led down a road of sanity—so how on Earth could you be blamed? 

Short answer: You couldn’t.

Not when the woman you wanted was as wise, as intelligent, as kooky, as beautiful, as charming as Lilia Murgo Calderu. An interpreter of the divine - and to you, all divine within herself. 

Even when she’d just woken up, dreams still swimming behind her eyes, orange slippers on her feet as she shuffled around the kitchen. Even when she took her time brewing tea, fixing her hair, humming quietly to herself. Even when she looked up to acknowledge you with a good morning and a lazy wave of her hand, to which you always responded with a smile and a chuckle because honestly you found her early-morning demeanour to be quite endearing. Even with the bags under her hazel eyes and the exhaustion of a terrible night weighing on her shoulders. Even when she rarely slept peacefully and then spent the entire next day getting lost within her thoughts. Even when she screamed in her sleep, cried out for help, yelped from a phantom pain. You ran to her on those nights, practically flying out of your room to find her tossing and turning in her bed, and always stumbled in the dark over to her side. Even when she was overtaken by nightmares, by visions and ‘possessions’, by people speaking through her and people speaking to her. Even then, when she was at her most volatile, with golden wicks of magic sparking along her knuckles and her fingertips, still harnessing power in her dreams, you scrambled to take her hands. To hold them gently. To pry them from their fists and smooth them with your touches.

“Lilia,” you’d whisper, heart pounding and touch soft, “Lilia you have to wake up now, you’re going to hurt yourself sweetheart.” And by then, she’d already be mid-gasp, shooting up in bed, looking around the room wildly before settling on you. 

Always you. Always at her side. Always willing to help. Her assistant, her roommate, the young woman everyone saw her around town with. The one who, perhaps, understood her more than anyone ever had before. 

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“Oooo,” you smiled, led by your nose through the door that separated the front of the shop from the back of the flat, whisked along easily by the smell of food. “This looks amazing..” 

The spoon poised to the right of the stove, already dirty with the tomato and meat from the cooking pasta, was quickly picked up by your hand and dipped back into the pot. 

“Lilia you are a godsend,” you whispered to yourself, bringing the spoon (heaped with bolognese) up to your mouth, already closing your eyes before anything could land on your tongue. 

“Aht!” A sharp voice cut through your bliss, followed by a small smack and sting on the back of your knuckles as the devil herself walked up to your side and hip-bumped you away from the stove. “No tasting before it’s ready!” She scolded, taking the spoon right out of your hold and pushing it back into the pasta to stir.

“Hey!” You protested instantly, lightly shoving her back as you pressed yourself to her side and looked over the pot. She was warm, soft, and you felt your heart jump at the scent of her bourbon and wildflower perfume. “Gimme some now,” you teased, reaching over her for the spoon. 

“Can’t you wait for five minutes!?” Lilia said loudly, shooting you a glare out of the corner of her eye as she moved her body and elbowed you away again. 

“Ow- that hurt!” You cradled your belly. It didn’t, not at all, but you loved to add fuel to the fire. 

Unfortunately, the fire had all the fuel she needed. “Good!” Lilia quipped, putting the spoon back into place in its holder, “I’m glad!” 

You tried hard to hide the smile on your lips and the desperate giggles that wanted to fly out, but you couldn’t help yourself. 

“So mean to me…,” came your laughter-laden lament as you moved to the table in the centre of the room. “Making me set the table, too.” You shook your head and let out a sigh that was much too loud, exaggerating the mope in your shoulders and the dragging of your feet while you moved around the room to get bowls and cutlery. “This is illegal, I think.” 

A snort came from the stove, making you glance up just in time to see the smirk on red lips before she turned her head away to the spice cabinet. “Oh yeah? Who you gonna call? Ghostbusters?” 

“The police.” You set the bowls down quietly and gave her a scoffing ‘duh’ to follow up. 

“Oh please.” Lilia shook her head, sending grey and silver curls swishing around her neck, “The police will take one look at you and give you back.” 

You paused at the drawer, a fork already in your hand, and whipped around with a gasp. “Did you just call me ugly?” You looked quite affronted, mouth agape, eyebrows furrowed, one foot already pointed out to tap rapidly on the floor. 

“Is that what I said?” She shot back, spinning in her place to give you a look in return. Eyebrows raised, tone sarcastic, casting beautiful coffee eyes over the length of your body to prove her point. In the face of that gaze, intense in all its flawless effort, you had to control the sudden hot feeling that spread across your cheeks.

“That’s what I gathered,” you pointed out, sheepish beneath the weight of her full attention, and ducked your head to rifle through the drawer, “And you like to imply things.” You bumped it shut when you found another fork. 

“Oh yeah?” Lilia huffed. “Well you like to accuse. So put that in your pipe.”

“And smoke it.” You spat, smiling.

“Exactly!” 

The two of you laughed, creating a joyful harmony as you finished setting up the table and went to turn down some of the lights. Lilia, in the meanwhile, added the finishing touches to the pasta and donned tarot-themed oven mitts (which you gifted her last year for Christmas after her others were accidentally set on fire) to carry the pot to its trivet. 

“Careful,” came your soft call as you double-checked the lock on the flat door. 

“Hmm,” Lilia hummed, slipping the mitts off and throwing them on the countertop. “Come sit, I’m starving.” 

“Shoulda cooked earlier then,” you teased, practically skipping over to the table to pull out her chair. 

“Shoulda, coulda, woulda,” she waved her hand and rolled her eyes before taking her seat, falling into your familiar routine.

It was your pleasure, above anything and everything else in life, to make Lilia Calderu’s days as smooth and bright as possible. You made breakfast, you helped clean up, you always pulled out her chair for her and always beat her to the dishes, and at night, you turned down the lights before heading off to your own room. It was small, decorated to suit you, and totally unnecessary. You’d insisted in the beginning of your stay that Lilia have it instead, because it had a door and was less open-spacey, but she brushed it off and said that she was already comfortable in her little pull-out bed. You didn’t enjoy the thought of it, not with the way her back hurt sometimes, but it was nothing a good spot of healing tea couldn’t fix—or so she claimed. You also learned early on that Lilia was neat, careful, and entirely against rushing. She did not like to rush. Nor did she like to argue, or raise her voice when angry, or get angry in the first place. And she didn’t like sleeping in too much and she didn’t like cold showers and she didn’t like when you didn’t respond to her texts (which happened maybe two times and both times you got an earful). But you never minded the things she didn’t like. You made sure to work on time-management, to avoid rushing, and you never got angry with her, only frustrated, and you never yelled at her (because you were quite sure that you’d rather be stabbed then ever do so), and you woke her up before her late alarm and only let her sleep in if she had a rough night, and you never used too much of the hot water, and you kept your phone ringer on whenever you left the shop, and all of the things she needed you to make space for, you did. You gave her privacy, you gave her an ear, a shoulder, you gave her gifts and you gave her attention and you gave her banter and jokes and stability and routine and beneath it all, every time you smiled at her, every time you both sat down in the armchairs to read your books, every time you stayed up late to listen to her rant about the world’s offences against witches, you were also giving her your heart. 

Happily, gladly, giving her your heart. 

“My compliments to the chef,” you grinned as you took your spot opposite her, putting your napkin on your lap as though you were in a fancy restaurant. 

“Mm, let me know if it’s too salty,” she ran her tongue over her teeth before grabbing your bowl, sliding it closer, and starting to dish up. 

You couldn’t help the way you looked at her, keeping one elbow on the table, holding your chin with the cup of your hand, admiring the way she moved. There was a specialness to it, a gracefulness found only in someone like Lilia. Even the way she put homemade pasta into your bowl, even the way she gave you a hefty helping, to make sure you ate properly, and even the way she slid it back to you with a small smile. The way the dim lights darkened her eyes, the way she focused on her own food, the way she shifted to get comfortable. 

Your heart felt just about ready to burst from your chest. 

“It’s perfect,” was the only thing you could say after you had your first bite; a common phrase in your combined household because Lilia was a fantastic cook. 

“Eh. Not bad,” she shrugged, but after her first bowl was finished, you smirked as you watched her grab another helping. 

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At first, living together was a bit awkward. 

You were still a juvenile witch, having learned as much as you could from your previous mentor before she suggested Lilia as a continued source of help; and the last thing you expected when stumbling into Madame Calderu’s for the first time was the key to a future filled with the best of fortunes. You never got your palm read, never had her look into a crystal ball for you and pretend to know dead relatives, but still you were certain—your future was the best future one could have. There was a roof over your head, food at your table, books at your fingertips, and Lilia Calderu at your side. There was nothing more to want. 

Though in the beginning, that wasn’t the case. 

You tiptoed around her as though you were scared she was going to smite you down with all the power of the Divine Mother if you stepped out of line. You were the quietest, kindest, most endearing soul you could ever be—all in an effort to avoid being thrown out on your ass. But when you recognised Lilia’s way of living, how some larger part of her didn’t seem to really mind your presence at all, you began to settle. You lingered in shared spaces, you asked both the boring and exciting questions, and the tension in your shoulders faded. Sleeping came easier, smiling was instinct, and when you heard Lilia laugh at one of your jokes for the first time, you knew there was nothing in the world that could take you away from her home. 

Her home which eventually became yours, but which would always be hers no matter what she claimed. 

It was Lilia’s flat, your presence. 

It was Lilia’s life, you tagging along. 

It was Lilia’s heart, you left at the outskirts, mingling with the other acquaintances and friends (not that there were many, but still. Not in the inner circle of Lilia’s Inferno.) 

And in your life, in your heart, she was at the very centre, embedded in everything you did. 

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“Merry Christmas!!” Your excited yell bounced off the walls, obnoxiously loud and announcing your entrance before you skated into the living room in fuzzy socks and holiday-themed pyjamas. 

The only answer that greeted you was a low gravelly groan, muffled by the press of Lilia’s face into her sheets. And on top of her head, squishing her beloved curls? A pillow. 

“Wake up now, Madame Calderu! It’s time to celebrate!” You sang, taking in the air of your shared flat. 

It was decorated beautifully, with lights along the cabinets, a fake purple tree in the corner, and other little festive trinkets you found in thrift shops, dotted around any flat surface there was. Dancing snowmen, a penguin with an ‘I love you’ sign (a symbol of your devotion, as subtle as you could make it), two stockings hung on the wall beside the tree, each of your initials sewn into the fabric. And on the tree itself? Colour-changing lights, baubles and plastic decor, some in the shapes of stars, others in the shapes of the moon’s phases, a few depicting typical witchy symbols (a hat, a little witch on a broom, two that were painted like tarot cards. The Lovers and The World.) Beneath it, there was a red and white tree skirt, fuzzy and dotted with little purple faux-pines, and on top of that, forming a little neat pile, were a few gift-wrapped presents. It was the most wonderful, heart-warming, heart-wrenching thing you had ever seen. You could spot the ones you picked out for Lilia, the gifts you spent so long thinking about, and noticed a few days before Christmas morning that she had matched each one with a wrapped present of her own. The contrast couldn’t have been more obvious; hers were all clad in some shimmery blue iridescent paper you’d never seen before in your life and yours were dressed up in a matte red and brown pattern that repeated the scene of a little bear in a Santa hat reading a book. 

You didn’t expect the presents to be there, in fact you didn’t really expect anything from her at all, and yet there they sat, adding to your pile of four. Four gifts for her and then, because she really was the softest person at heart, four gifts for you. As a thank you that evening, you’d made dinner - sweet potato chilli and slices of fresh bread. She loved it, but still you felt that a simple meal wasn’t a big enough show of gratitude. 

Christmas morning pancakes, however, would make a stunning addition to the ‘thank you’ list, especially as they were Lilia’s favourite. Two with chocolate chips and two with blueberries (though you always made at least one extra of each just in case). And beside that, a mug of herbal tea and beside that, a mug of hot chocolate. You were dead silent as you worked, trying hard to give the resident witch at least a few more minutes of peaceful sleep before you woke her up for a proper celebration. It was hard to contain the excitement, the lightning in your veins as you anticipated the rest of the day. The company, the warmth, the movies you’d watch, the books you’d read. The shop was closed, partly because the roads were full of unpaved snow, but also because you were not going to be waiting for customers on Christmas Day. You wouldn’t allow it, and eventually Lilia agreed. It was unlikely anyone would go looking for a palm reading anyway, not in that chill. Plus they all had other things to do as well, like spend time with family and cuddle up with their kids and their lovers and hold their wives and drink wine with their lovers and their wives and eat biscuits with their wives and kiss their wives and open gifts with their beautiful wives and ugh! Well. 

There were still gifts to open, gifts that you’d cherish no matter what they were. Even if Lilia got you the most basic things, like socks or a new body lotion or a water bottle, you’d wear them every day, you’d put it all over your hands, you’d never drink from anything else ever again. To even be in her busy head enough to receive a gift felt like an honour, and that was such a strange sentiment for someone you loved, putting her on a pedestal, but you were past the point of caring. Lilia Calderu was no perfect woman, you knew that more than anyone, but she wasn’t trying to be. Her kindness was taught, learned, maintained, and you weren’t sure which Gods you pleased enough to deserve it, but not a day went by where her care was overlooked. So all you could do was return the favour. 

“Merry Christmas indeed,” came a sudden rumbling purr over your shoulder, husky with sleep and tinged with amusement as Lilia shuffled her way up to the counter. 

You gave her a glance, taking in the robe around her shoulders, the colourful pattern of her nightgown, the slippers on her feet, and the sweet smirk on her lips, and could only smile when the heavy weight of her head leaned itself against your shoulder. Her curls tickled your neck a little, tied up as they were, but you had no complaints. She was warm, comforting, and still a bit tired. You would always be her headrest if that’s what she needed.

“Did you sleep well?” It was compulsory for you to ask, a habit you fell into as soon as you felt comfortable in the flat. Checking on Lilia was a common occurrence, though you only asked about sleep after she went through the night without waking up in a fit. The evening before had been quiet, so you had high hopes.

“Like a babe. What about you?” And that was the typical response, bringing a soft smile to your lips as you slid the mug of tea over to her. 

“Likewise, though I fell asleep to a delightful little playlist called Lilia’s snoring.” 

She gasped. “How dare you? I do not snore.” Wide coffee eyes looked at you, shocked, and one hand, devoid of decorative rings, playfully swiped at your arm. “Maybe you were hearing your own.” Lilia sassed before she hid her growing smirk behind her mug.

“Oh yeah right,” you rolled your eyes, moving away to shimmy the last pancake onto the small stack. “Let’s just go with that.” 

Lilia snorted and took her chance then to dip into the bathroom, still intent on completing her morning routine before eating. You got to setting the table, putting the pancakes on each plate and the rest on a separate one off to the side, placing Lilia’s favourite fork and knife beside her dish (they were made for her a while ago, complete with engraved gems and smoothed symbols, the only surviving two out of a full set), and completed the table with your mugs. It looked a bit romantic, as it always did when it was just the two of you sitting at your little kitchen table, but over the course of your time together, neither of you mentioned it. Once, in the beginning of your routine, you lit a candle and placed it in the centre of the table arrangement, and promptly promised yourself never to do so again. For as soon as Lilia sat down, embraced by the flame’s flickering light and short warmth, you felt your cheeks grow hot. She looked unbelievably handsome that evening, meeting smouldering eyes over the candlelight, showing off the shadows of her wizened face, and you were overcome with the distinct desire to lunge across the table and kiss her senseless. 

Fortunately for your friendship, you never did. And unfortunately for your friendship, the urge to do so only got worse. From kissing to holding, from holding to loving, from loving to fucking. You couldn’t help yourself, couldn’t control the flutter of your heart, but there was nothing to be done. Lilia was your roommate, your mentor, the woman who laughed with you and cried with you and consoled you when you were on your period and needed a shoulder. She wasn’t the woman you kissed or the woman you held or the woman you fucked and in all seriousness, you knew that she probably never would be. And although that thought came with its own sense of pain, its own sorrow and bone-breaking ache, it was also followed by relief. If you weren’t close enough for that, then you weren’t close enough to break each other’s hearts. So there was no need to fear, no need to worry, and if ever there came a day where Lilia found someone to be with her for good, then you would be happy. You would be happy. For her, for the woman you found yourself loving, you would be happy.

And speak of the witch, the sound of the bathroom door creaking open, followed by soft footsteps, broke you out of your staring contest with the counter. 

“Thank you for breakfast,” she said airily, fresh-faced with a small bit of makeup, a spritz of perfume, and a better style for her unruly curls. You nodded, almost in a bow, as you slid her seat out for her and gently pushed her back in. 

“It’s always my pleasure. Especially today.” You knew your eyes were shining, pouring with Christmas glee, but Lilia didn’t seem to mind the excitement. 

Ever since the beginning of December rolled around, she’d been happy to help you decorate. She took the time to hang lights with you, standing on the tips of her toes to give you the string as you circled it around the tree, then she spent the second evening of her December dotting it with decorations, inspecting the ornaments and baubles as she went, and she even bought a wreath to hang from the inside of the front door. You felt as though your heart was going to crawl out of your chest, it was so full of light and love. And at the end of the evening, when she affixed the Triple Goddess’ symbol to the top of your purple tree instead of an angel, and whispered a quick, happy, “Four of Wands” to you when she settled back on her feet, you couldn’t help but wrap her up in a hug. If that’s what her heart told her, if that’s what the divine whispered, an upright Four of Wands, then who were you to dictate? The higher powers were more right that evening than they had ever been before: in that moment, everything was Four of Wands. 

And while you ate a silent breakfast across from Lilia Calderu, enjoying the warmth and taste of your meal, taking in the slight chill of the morning and the beautiful image of her lounging in her nightie and robe, everything felt like Four of Wands all over again.

“You know I didn’t expect you to get me anything,” you finally murmured, hiding your eyes as you sipped from your mug. “It wasn’t supposed to be an eye for an eye sort of thing.” 

Lilia finished her bite, licked the side of her mouth, and raised an eyebrow. “So you expected me to be the only one opening gifts on Christmas morning? I don’t even celebrate Christmas. Why would I leave you empty handed?” 

You shrugged, already feeling the beginnings of warmth taking over your cheeks. You knew she didn’t celebrate - and technically you weren’t inclined to do so either, but the holiday cheer always got to you. And she had been so patient, going along with your joy. “I just assumed- I dunno…. We didn’t do it for each other the past two years, and exactly. You don’t celebrate. So I hope you know that just because I got you things-”

“Wait wait wait wait, stop right there.” Lilia cut you off, waving her hands a little bit, forcing your avoidant eyes from your plate up to her face. Her expression was strange, serious mixed with a distinct shadow of outrage, brick-red lips set into a frown; but behind her chocolate eyes? All you could see was warmth. “Before you even go any further, I’ll have you know that I did not feel obligated to get you Christmas presents just because you got some for me, and I certainly didn’t do it because I felt sympathetic.” 

You opened your mouth, ready to interrupt, but were quickly shut down by a held-up palm and a stern look. Your jaw clicked shut.

“I did it because I wanted to.” She held your eyes. “I did it because I didn’t want you to be celebrating alone and although it has been a long time since I last celebrated the holidays, I have to tell you that this has been very nice.” Lilia nodded at you, her lips tilting up into a smile, and she watched with delight as you couldn’t help but mirror it. “It’s been nice, right?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, resisting the urge to shyly duck away, “yeah it’s been nice.” 

“And that is precisely why I did it. Because this is the kind of atmosphere every home should have,” she spread her hands out, breaking away to look around your living room with pride and care, taking in the purposefully mis-coloured tree, the lights and ornaments, the gifts, the holiday trinkets, the stockings, the sight of your books mixed with her books in the shelf, your shoes next to her shoes by the front door, your notes stuck to the fridge, your handwriting on the wall calendar, the TV you bought a little while ago, the paintings you hung up, the food that you made for her and dished for her and placed beside her favourite knife and fork, the drinks you prepared, the look in your eyes… And when she brought her attention back to you then, you almost cracked right in half when she leaned forward as though she were going to tell you a secret and said, in a playful whisper with a smirk on her face, “And there is no other person I would rather celebrate with.” 

You were so thankful she couldn’t read minds. 

“Okay?” She nodded as a reassurance and you returned it without hesitation. 

“Okay. Thank you…,” you breathed, shuddery and annoying, so out of tune, but when she looked at you in the way she did, when she spoke so gently, so firmly, you simply weren’t sure how you could’ve regained your footing sooner. “I- I appreciate it.” 

“I know you do,” Lilia was smug as she leaned back in her seat and crossed one leg over the other while she finished her breakfast.

“Shut up.” 

The response you got was a near-silent huff of laughter. 

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“Okay! Stocking first or presents?” 

You stood in the middle of the room and Lilia sat in the blue armchair, nursing another brewed mug of hot chocolate. You hadn’t taken the chance to change, insisting that Christmas morning gifts were always unwrapped while still in your pyjamas, and Lilia had inclined her head to tell you that the reins were yours before she got cuddled into her seat.

“Let’s start with the big guns. Presents.” 

You nodded, still managing to somehow follow orders, and swiftly crouched beneath the tree, then carefully picked up all four gifts for Lilia and shuffled back to her on your knees. 

“Your gifts, m’lady.” 

“Why thank you,” she smiled, looked down at you with those heavy-lidded eyes, stroking the fire in your heart, and put her mug off to the side before holding her hands out and taking the wrapped presents into her lap. They weren’t very big, one of them wasn’t even a box, so she had no trouble balancing as you quickly turned around to grab your own. 

“Right,” once you were settled at her feet on the floor, cross-legged and acutely aware of how close you were, you set the boxes down in front of you and clapped your hands. “You go first, then me, then you, then me. Deal?” 

“What if I want you to go first?” One dark eyebrow raised, adding to the wicked pleasure of a dark-lipped smirk, and you instantly tried playing off your fluster with a shrug. 

“Then I will. Is that what you’d like, Madame Calderu?” Only used in moments of teasing, you enjoyed seeing the slight pink that went to Lilia’s cheeks as she heard you use her unofficial official title. Despite it being the name of her shop, it was rare that a customer addressed her as so. In time then, she only came to associate it with you. 

“Yeah, why not,” Lilia shrugged, and you instantly picked up the first gift nearest to you. 

“Can I shake it?” You grinned.

“If you’re interested in breaking things, be my guest.” 

“Mmm, no thank you,” came your little murmur as you carefully (trying to hide your eagerness) undid the wrapping. It was a long box, thin, and as the gift was revealed and the paper fell off to the floor, you felt your heart stutter. Clearly, it was jewellery. And clearly, you had to open it. But the front caught your eye, stalling you, and you took in the small golden cursive L. with interest. “Did you make this?” You whispered, shifting the box to hold it like precious gems. 

“Open it first, ask questions later,” you didn’t have to look up to know she was smiling, so you did what was desired. 

The top came off with little resistance and suddenly you were looking down at a necklace. A familiar necklace. Familiar and yet different. Made of smaller beads with similar colours, more delicate and fitting to your less loud aesthetic, but with the same rectangular shaped pendant in the centre. You nearly folded yourself in half looking closer, feeling your heart in your throat when you recognized that yes, it was like Lilia’s, but it wasn’t meant to be a replica - it was meant to match. Two hands against a white background hovered above and below a sun with an open eye, fitting the same mould, but Lilia’s hands were an iridescent blue-green, the top one pointing down from the right and the bottom pointing palm-up from the left. Yours was in complete contrast. A deep blue background, opal coloured hands, the top one pointing down from the left, the bottom pointing up from the right, and the sun in the middle was not a sun at all but a full moon, painted white, the eye’s iris a dark midnight blue. It was perfect in a way you could not even voice, hand-crafted with so much care, and you looked up at Lilia as though she herself had the bright idea to create the sun and moon and hang them both in the sky. 

“I- this is- Lilia…,” you swallowed, glancing at the necklace resting against her chest before looking down at its partner in your hands. “Holy shit, Lilia.” 

“Here, let me help you put it on.” She flapped her hands to gesture you forward and forward you went, placing the box aside and taking the necklace out with the gentlest touch. When you turned and she slung it around your neck, the jewellery was cold, but her hands were warm, and in seconds you were suddenly matching with the woman you loved. 

“...I feel like I’m part of your coven now,” you whispered while looking down, stroking it with reverence. 

“Ha!” Lilia cackled, her smile brighter than fresh snow in the sun. “You don’t want to be part of my coven, kiddo,” she took a sip of her tea. 

A very mean, insecure voice in the pit of your mind hissed at the sound of that nickname. It always incited a wild, twisting fire inside you. You hated to be reminded of your age, of the differences between you, because it always served as a symbol of what could never be. Coming to terms with unrequited love was one thing, but having the reason why it was unrequited spoken to your face so boldly, even without intent to do so, was a different beast entirely. You could handle the sadness when not reminded of its roots, but a quick ‘kiddo’ or ‘kid’ or reference to age spoken from Lilia’s lips had you instantly defensive. Of course you never showed it, never in front of her, but that didn’t mean the punch to your psyche didn’t hurt like a bitch. 

“Yes, I do.” You insisted, moving the opened box and wrapping paper out of the way. “Of course I do. Lilia Calderu’s coven? Sign me the fuck up right now.” 

She huffed, put her mug down, and turned back to her own gifts. “Shall I?” 

“You shall.” 

The first one she picked up was the squishy one, soft and medium sized, and you delighted in the way her brows furrowed as she pressed it between her fingers. Three seconds later, when the paper was torn off (just as gently as you did it, you noted), a small gasp, followed by a rich laugh, filled the air. 

“Oh, you shouldn’t have,” Lilia grinned as she picked up the oven mitts and slipped them onto her hands. It was a cute addition to your running joke. Only a few months before that moment, Lilia had somehow accidentally set her old oven mitts on fire. Bright flame and all. It was a miracle how you got there just before the smoke detectors went off and managed to throw the things outside before dousing them in water. They were still on her hands too! You’d nearly had a heart attack, staring at her with eyes so wide it gave you a headache as you ignored the half-charred mitts and held her palms. Lilia insisted she was okay as you inspected them, but she never pulled away and she didn’t protest when you asked her to please run them under cold water for a few minutes. Since then, the only ‘oven mitts’ she had were dish towels and every time you meant to buy replacements, you procrastinated or you forgot. That simply wouldn’t do—thus, the tarot card themed oven mitts she had on her hands, waving them around and pinching her thumb to her fingers with satisfaction. 

“These are lovely. Thank you,” her voice was liquid gold with gratitude as she finally slipped them off and gently set them on the table, giving them a pat for good measure. 

“Yeah, I thought you might have needed some,” you smirked and gladly accepted the small playful slipper-covered kick you got to the knee. “Now my turn again.” 

The next gift was softer than a box, but shaped like one, with a weird hard lump on the front, and once you got the wrapping paper off, your face almost split in half with the width of your smile. 

“This looks so beautiful, oh my god,” your left hand stroked and fiddled with the pendant at your neck, holding it as a newfound comfort while your right hand explored the leather-bound notebook you found in your lap. The lump you felt on the front was a sewn-in gem, coloured gold and orange, and you felt warm with the thought that it reminded you so much of Lilia’s magical tint. “Thank you Lilia.. I promise you it won’t go to waste.” 

Her eyes were shining proudly when you looked up at her, and you noticed the quick glance away from your collarbone to the book in your lap. She must have thought the necklace was just as beautiful as you did. 

“It better not, or I’ll take it back,” she teased, humming a soft sound of agreement as you marvelled at the fraying, fabric pages. 

“No chance. Now open your next one, please.” The notebook was gently set aside after you re-clasped the metal hinge. 

As Lilia picked up one of the smaller boxes, harder than the oven mitts, and began unwrapping, you briefly wondered about what you were going to put in the new journal. There were no lines, so it was perfect for sketching, but at the same time you hadn’t kept a diary in so long and it was the perfect opportunity, accompanied by the most perfect feeling. Making use of something a loved one had given you. And you would make use of it, without a doubt you would. 

“Is this a book of spells?” Lilia asked, turning the little brown book over in her hands with a furrowed brow and a confused smile. 

You straightened up and shuffled closer to her knees, practically putting your chin in her lap when you excitedly reached up to hold it open for her. “That’s exactly what it is, yes. I had to get a bit of help from Elise, but…,” you bit your lip, suddenly shy at all the effort you’d put into contacting your mentor. She agreed to help because she loved you, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t teased, and as you looked up at Lilia then, staring into dark enchanting eyes, you felt a blush roll over your cheeks. “...It’s um- it’s little obscure spells. For like cleaning and mending and things. I think there’s one in there for even stitching stars? Just stars? And a few others. Shining copper, cleaning lipstick off of glass…,” you trailed off, watching as Lilia hummed and took the book from you again. 

She took a moment to flip through the pages and read the small descriptions, taking the time to react to each one in kind. And when she got to the end, going a bit faster in her perusing, she suddenly stopped. You paused just as she paused and watched, with confusion, as her eyebrows promptly shot up.

“You think I need an.. ‘overstimulating orgasm’?” 

….

“Excuse me?” 

You went still. 

Lilia’s eyes bounced from you to the page and back again before she turned it around on her lap, nonverbally forcing you to read it. 

And there, in your mentor’s handwriting, were the cursive words, “Spell for a Very Special Feeling”. 

And beneath it, in smaller print:

‘Do your wrists ever get tired? Your hands? Are you eager for a satisfying night in? A chance to really release your frustrations without doing the work yourself? I know just the spell.

Completing the steps below will result in a release like no other. It will burn, it will feel painful, but the pleasure will override the ache and in no time at all, you will find yourself feeling delightfully… overstimulated. No tiring hours of doing it yourself! No chickening out! Give it a try maybe once. Or twice. As many times as your body can take.’ 

And a diagram showing hand movements, followed by a chant to go along with it. 

That motherfucker!

“Judging by your expression, I’m guessing you didn’t look through this thoroughly before you wrapped it for me?” Lilia smirked, cheeks growing pinker the longer you stared at the writing in complete and utter shock. 

It took you a good second to react and then another two seconds to respond. You were quick to reach out and grab the book, wanting to look through it properly to avoid any other utterly embarrassing miscommunications, but Lilia yanked it back before you could. 

“Too late,” she shook her head, and you floundered. 

“N-no! That is not supposed to say that, I swear. I would never- that- Elise wrote them all! I approved them! I don’t even know how- why-” 

Lilia raised one of her palms, cutting your sentence right in half, and you fell quiet as she smiled. 

“She must’ve slipped it in. I think she’s trying to tell me something,” the book went flipping back and forth between her palms and you sighed. 

“I’m really sorry about that, oh my god. It was just supposed to be a cute little gift.” 

“And it is,” Lilia insisted, snapping the book shut with a smirk. “Don’t feel embarrassed. It’s only natural.” You felt something in you shiver when she winked and desperately tried pulling yourself together when she turned to put the little book on the side table. 

Dwelling on the moment, now matter how enticing the idea sounded, was not a very good decision to make. You couldn’t afford to get distracted or blush too hard, but dear lord it seemed to be an impossible feat - especially with the image of Lilia in your head. Panting, blushing, hands gripping her sheets… the same hands, soft hands, with delicate wrinkles and perfect nails, just the right length and just the right width and so deceptively strong, no matter how feminine they seemed… the same hands she used to do her sewing, her cooking, her readings, her hair… the same hands she used to thread two fingers through the curve of her mug’s handle… oh in much the same way you wished they could curve into- no. 

No. 

You wrenched your eyes away, declining the draw of lust, and picked up the next gift on autopilot. As you tried emptying your head, the wrapping paper fell apart under your wandering hands, and soon you were staring down at what seemed to be a box of tarot cards. A very unique box of tarot cards with unique drawings, sequences, and detailing - art nouveau inspired. One of your favourites. 

“I don’t have this set yet…,” you breathed, drifting your fingertips over the glossy cover of the box like it was your Bible. 

“I know.” She hummed, still drinking from her hot chocolate, watching you with curiosity.  

Tarot set collecting somehow became your combined hobby over the years, although your preferences differed so as to not have any duplicates. Lilia had a set she used only for the shop, one that didn’t hold the same sentimental value as the few others she had, and you displayed your decks on the empty surface of your dresser. Lilia rarely got new ones, she was quite connected to the five that she already had, they all held different meanings, and you only enjoyed splurging when you saw ones that were really incredible. Your next gift was a surprise for Lilia, it would bump her deck number up to six, and you smiled softly as you slid the top off of the decorative box and swiftly counted the cards as the tenth addition to your collection. 

“These are gorgeous. Where did you get them?” You couldn’t tear your eyes away. 

“A witch never tells,” Lilia put two fingers to her pursed lips and though you didn’t look up to see it, you still huffed at her words. 

“Well can a witch accept a thank you?” 

“She can,” your roommate acquiesced, giving you a heartfelt “You’re welcome” when you thanked her on the spot. 

“I will say I think you and I had the same idea,” you admitted when Lilia got around to opening her next gift. She raised quizzical eyebrows as she looked down at the box in her hands, and you watched with glee as her lips parted in surprise. “We know each other so well.” 

“It appears we do…,” she murmured low beneath her breath before she tossed the wrapping paper down to you and gave the box a proper look.

It was medium sized, wooden, hand painted, and carved. On the front, there was a rather uncanny all-black cameo of Lilia’s side profile. It was perfect, from the shelf of her brow to the distinct curve of her nose down to the gentle slope of her neck, and it was front and centre in the painted format of a tarot card. At the bottom were two words written in your pen, ‘The Divine’. And at all four corners, little details of the sun, moon, Saturn, and stars. Lilia was quiet as she opened the hinged lid, and then she gasped as she came face to face with The Empress. It took her less than a second to realise what you’d done. Her gaze shifted quickly, from every individual stroke to every mark and design, from every corner signature to every line. With slow movements, pouring with awe, The Empress was quickly pushed to the back as Lilia slipped the entire stack out of the box and began fanning them with her fingertips. Her touch was delicate, hovering as she traced outlines and ran her thumb along the curves of the cards. 

“Hand painted,” she said softly and you looked from her to the deck and back again with a nod and a smile. 

“Do you like them?” You didn’t really have to ask, you knew she did, but some part of you was always nervous whenever you did something nice for your roommate. You had to toe the line carefully, balancing being platonic and being romantic, and gifts were, at times, a difficult thing to interpret. You wanted her to enjoy them, to find use in them, to keep them for the rest of her long life just as she had with a bunch of her other souvenirs. If ever she had to leave, flee, or travel somewhere without you, you hoped that she would stop to pack them in with her things first. Or better yet, use them for special occasions. Times where she could tell people that she got that deck of tarot cards from a young woman she once knew, a woman she thought of often with fondness. Maybe a woman who could become her wife one day, though it was such a silly thought you could only shake it out of your head.

“Yes, I like them,” Lilia breathed, eyes still hungrily devouring the details. She looked quite impressed. “These are beautifully done. Thank you.” Her smile felt like a hug around your shoulders when she peered down at you. 

“Oh I- of course…,” you said shyly, resisting the urge to bow your head or look away, and her smile only grew as she turned back to her new deck and began realigning them. You watched her for a moment, seeing her care and appreciation in the way she handled them like fine china, and it was only when the box made a light clink against the side table that you finally snapped out of it.

“Why don’t we open the last ones together?” You suggested, perking up with a renewed sense of interest. The last gift was your personal favourite as it contained the most magic, and since you had yet to find your own physical form of the craft, like Lilia’s golden whisps, it was also the most time consuming. Laborious magic was a true pain in the ass, but you had a little help from your mentor and in only a few days, the gift was complete. You prayed the witch in front of you enjoyed it. 

“Good idea,” she put the wooden box to the side and picked up the last gift.

You mirrored her, then watched as both of you worked at the wrapping paper and revealed your last gifts. 

In your hand, a small unassuming brown box. In Lilia’s, a long Tiffany-blue box. You shared a look and in unison, slid the tops off.

Inside the box, nestled in a soft foam mould, was a simple, smooth, shining Black Tourmaline. It was about the size of the dip in your palm and when you picked it up, your hand dropped just a bit with the weight. You glanced up at Lilia, meeting her eyes over the ledge of her knees, and smiled in confusion. 

“This is gorgeous, but why is it so heavy?” You laughed, holding the gemstone like gold as you slid it between your palms and ran your fingers over the smooth surface. 

“Turn it around,” she responded as she looked down at her own gift and hummed, moving to gently take it out of its own foam mould as though it was made of glass. 

“Oh… woah…” On the other side was an engraving. A symbol. Seven points to a complex star. You’d seen glimpses of it in various books over the years, but it wasn’t among the most common signs in witchcraft, so you never paid it any proper attention. Clearly, to Lilia, you should’ve. 

“It’s a Heptagram. In many religions, its existence is overwhelmingly positive,” Lilia said offhandedly, eyes still glued to her own gift, “and this…,” she twirled it in her fingers, face glimmering with the way the sun shone through the kitchen curtains and caught the light off of one of the shining little bunches, “is a bouquet of hemlock stuck in stasis.” Her vision readjusted, moving past the green of the stems to you, sitting in direct view behind them. You watched as the film of magic made the bunch glow. From certain angles, it seemed as though it stood beneath shining stained glass, casting reds, oranges, yellows, blues, purples, greens, pinks, and whites all in various shades.

“I knew it was a bit on the nose, but it can’t hurt you unless you decide to eat it,” you explained, “Elise helped me cast the spell. It will be like that forever, I’m pretty sure. That’s why it’s shimmering. Pretty, isn’t it?” You smiled, running your fingers over your new stone aimlessly. 

“It’s perfect,” Lilia said warmly, tilting her head with a sweet smile on her face. “Thank you.”

“Of course!” You rushed out, chest almost heaving with the weight of her affection “Now are you going to tell me the meaning behind this stone?” You asked and held it up before your eye, symbol facing her. 

“It’s a protective ward. Throughout the ages, it has come to mean different things to different believers, but I focused my energy into divine protection. As long as it’s with you, anyone with bad intentions will turn the other way,” she explained in her teacher voice, speaking matter-of-factly.

You blinked at her. 

She looked entirely unbothered, maybe a little bit proud, as if it was just another one of her lessons. As if she did something like that for everyone, everyday. 

“Or that’s what it’s supposed to do,” Lilia rolled her eyes and swung her head to the side as she picked up her mug again, “but I’m certain I got it right.” 

Oh. Right. Of course. As if it was just another one of her lessons. Like a Christmas Day lesson. Like perhaps it was no big deal. Like maybe it wasn’t a true feat of magic, no matter how small the gem. Like protection wasn’t that hard. Like it wasn’t genuinely the kindest thing anyone had ever done for you. Ever. And like you wouldn’t think about it for the rest of your life, which you would, of course, cuz you’d hold the thing in your pocket, in your hand, you’d sew it into your skin, if it meant you wouldn’t lose it. 

Not that you could, you decided. No. You’d have it forever. You’d keep it until death, considering that’s what Lilia wanted. Your safety. Your protection. She went as far as to pick out a gem for you, went through the time of making it compact enough, smooth enough, and spent lord knows how long carving the symbol into its surface. Then continued to cast on it, doubling the chance of success, tripling the strength. For your protection. For your survival. Because she cared. Lilia Calderu cared. And you knew she did, so you weren’t sure why tears started to prick at your eyes, but it wasn’t like she noticed anyway.

She was too focused on her hemlock, admiring it still with a pleasant smile on her lips, and you watched her lick the hot chocolate from her mouth and put her mug down before you sprang into action. 

You hadn’t even realised that’s what you’d been waiting for, why you hesitated, but the second her hands were empty and you felt the warmth of her body press into your own, it made sense. That’s what you craved. That’s what you always missed. The subtle buzz in your body, calling as if it were without something, begging for a concept you knew nothing off, went quiet. Like a switch being turned off. Your hands tucked themselves beneath her arms and went winding up to her back, splaying out with the stone squished gently in between your left hand and her pyjamas. Of course that’s what you wanted. Lilia. Always Lilia. She still smelled so lovely, like the sweet perfume of your home and the lemon of her shampoo, and you shuddered as you felt a soft puff of breath along your neck. Jesus, you melted for her. Like ice in the sun. Like butter in a pan. Warm with love, with sunlight, and you felt as though you could soak her up forever. You could stay there, nearly collapsing at the feel of her arms running up to curl along the curve of your back, forever.

“Thank you Lilia,” you whispered into her ear, sounding shuddery and frail as those sweet hands patted you once, twice, so warm and so calming. Her arms squeezed gently, nonverbally returning the sentiment, and you felt weak. “Thank you…” 

A minute passed, then she shifted and pulled you a bit closer. 

“Merry Christmas, honey,” Lilia murmured, red lips so close to your skin you swore you could feel the brush of them. The pull of them. Like maybe she wanted them to be there. 

What a silly thought. 

“Merry Christmas, Madame Calderu,” you replied, just as softly, and grinned with joy as her shoulders began to jump with happy quiet laughter.

・┈┈・┈┈・┈┈・✩・┈┈・┈┈・┈┈・

The witch came back the very next day oh the witch came back...

Hi! Hello! Hi! Let me know what you all think? Did I get the characterization right? I have another part in mind for this, so if you like it and you show your love, you may have more Lilia Calderu coming your way. I really hope you're all doing well. - Yours, Ripley x

・┈┈・┈┈・┈┈・✩・┈┈・┈┈・┈┈・

[liliapleasesteponme]

Bad girl

Lilia x rio x agatha (lithario)

Summary - smut. thats it. smut with no plot

Swearing, strap, mean!lilia, edging, begging, mommy kink, spanking, denial

Translations (we love sicilian speaking lilia) : amuri = love, lu me ciuri = my flower, cagna = bitch

TAGLIST - @mgruiz @multixfan @angeliccss @ilovepattilupone @renafisher27 @thegoddamnfeels @delusionalforolderwomen @lilia-calderus-pet-goat @bravewithacapitalb @live-laugh-love-lupone @lotus-ignis @lemz378 @yourbasicqueerie

"fuckfuckfuckfuckkk" was all Rio could say as Agathas hands snaked further around her thighs holding her legs open. Lilia continued to pound into her at a brutal pace.

Neither Agatha nor Rio actually knew why Lilia was being so rough today but neither were complaining.

As Lilia's strap brought Rio closer and closer to the release she was dying for, Agatha began to whine from the lack of attention from either of them.

"aww, you need some attention, amuri ? Has watching me edge Rio gotten you all worked up ?"

Lilia's words were sewn with faux sympathy but Agatha was so needy that all she could do was desperately nod her head. "you know what that means."

If she helped Agatha then Rio would be left on the edge again. She couldn't let that happen again. When it dawned on her what Lilia meant she began to beg in hopes of finally being able to cum.

"Agatha please―please don't ! I need this. I need to cum," Rio turned her head back to Lilia, "mommy please i-im so close"

Rio knew her begging was pathetic. Lilia never took kindly to begging, seeing it as futile, but in the moment she didn't care. Rio became so lost in her thoughts only to be pulled out of them by the sudden feeling of Lilia thrusting back into her.

Her thrusts were so forceful, giving Rio exactly what she craved. Once she reached the edge again, she was going to be to cum but before she could, she heard Lilia say, "what's the word ?"

"mommy."

"go on, lu me ciuri, cum for me."

Rio had never moaned so loud when she was finally allowed to cum, though it was quickly overshadowed by lilia pulling Agatha forward and onto her lap.

"think you can be a whining bitch and not get punished ?"

Agatha stayed silent.

"think again."

As she spoke, she gave Agatha a hard spank making her let out a small squeal. "i want you to count for me, cagna, i thinking 20."

Agatha turned her head to look at Lilia just to say, "yes mommy."

1...

2...

3...

4...

5...

"you see ? This is what you get for being an impatient, needy little bitch."

6...

7...

8...

9...

10...

The tenth spank was harder, making Agatha jump slightly. Rio, watching from the side, let out a soft moan at the scene in front of her.

11...

12...

13...

14...

15...

Lilia smirked at Agathas small whimpers of mercy. "you're doing so well, amuri, just a few more."

16...

17...

18...

19...

20...

A sigh of relief was let out when Agatha was done counting. She felt like she could finally breathe again "now tell me, what was it you wanted so badly ?"

"want you to use your tongue, please ?"

Lilia didn't say anything so Agatha tilted her head as if to ask the question again.

"no."

"what ?" Agatha asked desperately.

"i said no. Considering your attitude earlier, i think i'll make you wait."

[kayaksgay]

“I love you so, (Please let me go.)”

lilia calderu x reader

Warnings: Hurt no comfort, Character death, Angst.

AN: my finger slipped

———————————————————————

It had been years since Lilia had broken up with you. The scar she left on you never faded as some said it would. You missed her every day, even though she had told you to forget about her.

She was a forgotten witch after all, yet you never had forgotten her. She was your everything, you’d remember her for as long as you lived.

“Sooo anyone neww?” Your friend’s voice snapped you out of your trance. She had been determined to set you up for months now, yet you insisted you never had time. Yet the real reason was as simple as Lilia remained on your mind.

I love you so,

“Nope.” You’d say, hoping they’d drop the topic. You knew they saw through you, but were gracious enough to not call you out on your lies.

“When will you just forget about her? She forgot about you.” They’d say, realizing how harsh it sounded, they instantly tried to apologize.

It was too late, the damage done. “I love her! She didn’t forget about me, she wouldn’t do that.” Your voice broke. You pushed yourself up, refusing to look back towards your friend. The bell above the door ringing as you left the coffee shop.

You rounded the corner, once you made your friend didn’t follow you, you relaxed slightly. God you missed her. It had been only a few years since Lilia’s death, yet it hurt. She had broken up with you not too long before she went on that stupid road.

Your hand moved to the necklace you had on. It was one she had given to you at the beginning of your relationship. A tear fell as you rubbed your thumb over it.

All Lilia could do was watch, as you cried and mourned her.

Please let me go.

[vicky-0933]

This my second story, I made this one longer. I also add a word from my native language for you.

Meaning- Thur na pop- Sunflower

————————————————————————

Found you.

“What the fuck” you whisper to your self, trying to study the different types of witchcraft, flipping through the pages of the book, you come across a page about divenation, “huh, who is this”, looking closer you see the name “Lilia Calderu”. Reading about her, you can feel something about her that draws you to her, as you read you see her through different times, “so witches do live for a long time” you say with smile.

Then you get to the end and see a psychic address, you felt like you had to go there, so you close the book and take it with you. Going to your car, you stop, {is this the right thing to do} you thought, you look at the book and turn to the page again, leaning on your car, take your time to her picture again. You start remember things you don’t again, {what’s going on} you thought.

{fine, let’s go see then} you thought again and open your car and go in, “Lets go see her” you tell your self, putting the address on your phone and turn on your car, and start to drive to the location. While driving, you start to feel nervous, “what’s going on with you, your just to see this lady.. who is a witch that has been alive for a long time, but that’s not a problem now, right” you ask yourself.

Getting more nervous as you start to get closer to the place. You start to get remember things you never thought you could. {why am I remembering these things} you thought as you pulled up to the place. “Here we go” you told your self, putting your things in your backpack and getting out of the car.

Standing at the entrance, you prepare yourself and walk in the place. The bell ring from on top of you, looking around you start to remember things from what looks like the past, then you see a picture of the witch but you seem to realize that someone that looks exactly like you is in that picture too. “Hello dear, how can I help you” a voice comes out, you turn to see the famous witch from the book.

“Lilia Calderu” you ask and she nods, “I am Yn Ln, I am studying the different types of witchcraft, so I came to visit it you to ask some questions.” You said, wanting to say more but you stopped, she nods again and motions you to sit down, which you take a seat. You both just sit there with silence, but you wonder why there are pictures of the both of you all over her place.

“why am I remembering these memories” you ask first, “you don’t remember do you” she asks you. You shake your head no, she sighs, getting up to grabbing a book, “the reason why you don’t remember me, “us” really, is because you were cursed to never find me again, never remember us, or what we did, but somehow you found me and came to me” she says sitting next you, leaving space between you.

“This was yours” she slips the book towards you, “when we were together, you would write everything about us, and like you are doing right now, studying witchcraft, then one day a witch came by and cursed you to forget me. Then you disappeared, and I tried you find you and I couldn’t, then I stopped looking for giving up all hope.” She stops for a little bit.

“But there was something that she said, “if she finds you again and remembers, you should be granted” and ever since I have been hoping you’ve found me” she stops there again, “And” You ask but she didn��t answer, you were going to ask again until she grabs your face, “please remember, please remember me” she pleads and start crying, you grab her face then you gasp, your mind start to go through memories from the past, but one sticks out.

—————————1576———————————

“Sweetheart, open your eyes” a voice tells you and you open your eyes, you see her, “what’s going on in your mind love, hmm” she asks moving some hair out of your face and cupping your cheek, “Nothing, Thur na pop. Just being here with you” you say bring her into a hug. “I found something for you” she tells you, letting go, and giving you a flower that is so bright in the sun, “oh my, thank you my love” you said. You both laugh, and walk down the little river, but soon you stop her, “Love” you tell her and she turns around, looking at you and you start to feel nervous.

“Dear, what’s wrong? Did something happen” she ask in a panic voice, you shake your head no, looking around, you look at her, the way the sun shines behind her giving her a brighter look. “Lilia, I want you to know that, you are the love of my life, I want to spend every day with you. You make me happy, and now that you helped me get out of my terrible life. I want to ask” you say while getting down on one knee, “will you with me for the rest of my life, will you marry me” you ask, showing two rings, one for her and one for you.

She doesn’t say anything, and just looks at you. You look at her with happy eyes and when she doesn’t say anything, you start to feel like you made the biggest mistake and get up but before you can go, she hugs you, which surprised you. She then grabs your face and kisses you, then whispers “Yes I will” and you smile and kiss her again, slipping the ring on her finger, then she does the same for you. You were about to say something when it all went black.

———————-2026—————————

You gasp, out of the memory, all you see is her chocolate eyes, “Lily” you say and she brightens up, “My love, it’s you” you say and hug her, you both start crying. “I remember now, I remember everything about us.” You said, she smiles and cups your face making you look at her, “It-“ she was about to say until someone comes in, you both look and Lilia stands up and get in front you.

The lady start to walk towards the both of you, “Don’t, don’t come near her” Lilia says and you stand up, going behind her, the lady chuckles, “you promised” Lilia cries out, “Promised what” you ask. You take a better look at the women in front of you, she wears almost all red, dark hair, and blue eyes. “Wait” you say, both Lilia and the dark haired woman looks at you, “I know who you are” you said, the lady looking surprised.

“Mother” you said and Lilia’s heart drops, “Well Yn, looks like you were finally able to find her” Your mother said. “Why? Why did you do that?” You ask in an angry tone, “you were supposed marry someone else, not her” your mother said, you look down at Lilia’s finger and see the ring you gave her then yours. “Now looks like I have to make sure I make it stronger this time” your mother says, you close your eyes, she put her hand up making magic go into your mind but then something makes her jerk back.

When you open your eyes, they turned blue, “NO YOU WONT” you yelled and raised up your hand and blast your mom with blue magic, and she yelps in pain, “YOU TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME” you yelled again, your mother looks at you, and gasps, you are glowing in deep blue, Lilia stepped back a bit, feeling all the power you have. Your mother stands up, “How? How are you doing this” she asks you, you didn’t answer and just put your hand, and you start to choke her.

She gasps, and you lift her up, Lilia gasp and looks at you, then she goes to you, putting her hands on your shoulder and whispers, “Sweetheart stop. Let her go”. You hear her voice and soften up, putting down your hand, letting your hand go down, letting go of your mom. She is gasping for breath, you walk to your mother and she looks at you. “Don’t you ever do this again, Don’t EVER interfere with my life again” you tell her, and she gets up, “You don’t know what you just did” she tells you.

“No, what I did was something that I did for myself, not taken control over you” you tell her, “Now leave”. She looks at the both you then leaves, and you just stand there, until you feel someone next to you and grab your face. All you see Lilia’s face, “You did it” Lilia says chuckling, “I did it” you say and kiss her. She is surprised and chuckles into the kiss and finally you were able to figure out where you going to be with forever.

[aggieharkness]

Hello! Baking (or rather cutting out) Christmas cookies was a bit like a cold, tense hell with Christmas music playing in the background.

So I'd like to request reader baking Christmas cookies (or just normal cookies) with Lilia. Put as much fluffy, funny, feel-good feelings as you can in there, please. I'd really appreciate it.

Happy holidays!

The world is perfect when I'm with you

Pairing: Lilia Calderu x reader

Summary: It's Christmas Eve and you and Lilia share a few quiet moments at home baking cookies and simply enjoying the time to be with each other.

Warnings: romance, pure fluff, dancing, baking cookies.

Authors note: Oh my God, I love the idea. You don't know just how happy it made me to read this, like I was bouncing on my bed. I hope you like it and that it brings you happiness and comfort. If there is anything at all that you don't like, tell me and I'll change it, or if you want more, I'm here. Thanks for the request. btw.

This is a Christmas gift for you!! Happy Holidays!

The world is perfect when I'm with you

The house was filled with music. Christmas carol after Christmas carol played through the Bluetooth speaker you had bought a few months ago, echoing against the walls of Lilia’s tiny living area. She wasn’t one for festivities such as Halloween or Easter, but God, she adored Christmas. The first year you had shared the holidays with her it had surprised you just how invested she was, putting up an old beat-up tree, fairy lights everywhere, even around the bedposts, but you never complained. Her big brown doe eyes had shone with such joy and happiness that you just couldn’t bring yourself to burst her bubble in any way. The house had looked beautiful once she had finished, a small nativity scene in a corner of the room, a remnant of her past life in Sicily. This year wasn’t any different, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. The first of December hit the calendar, and she was like Sonic the Hedgehog pulling out boxes of lights and ornaments, leaving the tree to you, a brand new one covered in fake snow that you had gifted her a couple of years ago. She loved knowing that you were helping and making sure the house was just like she wanted it to look, little angels and random glass balls hanging from the branches, golden tinsel wrapped around it along with a string of lights. It looked beautiful next to the TV. For three weeks you helped her set up the house until you were finally able to take your vacation days, leaving your job until the sixth of January.

Morning had come, bursting through the windows in gentle warm rays of sunlight that bathed over Lilia’s form as she slept, those lovely peppery curls shinning under the orange beams, her body cuddled against yours. Every morning since you both had closed up the shop for the holidays had been exactly the same sweet routine; you waking up first to meet the dawn while she slept for a bit longer, basking in the way your hands followed the shape of her soft ringlets, and your tender kisses lulled her away from the land of dreams. It was simply the best way to begin the day. You both had stayed in bed talking about nothing and everything cuddled against each other until the sun was well high up in the sky, the pinks and purple hues that had painted the world above now a clear blue cyan while the world was buried underneath a crisp layer of snow that had fallen through the night. You had not noticed, wrapped around Lilia, lost in her kisses. She got up first, her hair falling from the bun she had had when you had taken her to bed, her ivory gown letting you catch a glimpse of her otherworld body as she made her way to the bathroom, the light hitting her just at the right angle making her nightdress completely see through. She looked bloody fantastic for being over a hundred and fifty years. The rest of the routine followed like clockwork, coffees and scrambled eggs included, making way for the moment you were both in right now.

Lilia’s body swayed from side to side to Michael Bublé, a Christmas classic for her, her voice not only harmonising perfectly, but overtaking and overpowering the music so easily and effortlessly that you had to stop pulling bowls out of cupboards simply to watch her. Over the kitchen counter she was beating three eggs along with melted butter and sugar, ingredients spread everywhere because when she had got up, right before she had left for the bathroom, she had bent over your body, your eyes drifting to her cleavage until her eyes had claimed your attention, telling you that you were making cookies today. Had you been Agatha or maybe even Jen you would have complained telling her that it was boring, but you were you and the prospect of baking with Lilia was like a perfect Christmas gift.

-Lils, how much flour do we need? – your eyes lifted from the big packet of flour that you had just left on the table, her usual red and blue robe flowing when she moved to stand beside you, a yellow apron with the words “Look at these buns!” protecting her clothes.

-280 grams baby, or one full cup. It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

-Everywhere you go. Thanks, hon.  

-Take a look at the five and ten.

-It's glistening once again.

-With candy canes and silver lanes that glow.

It was wonderful to sing with her even if your voice could never compare; she did not care. Anything that she did with you was simply perfect. Her hands left the bowl of wet ingredients on the table, holding onto yours before you could grab the sifter. She pulled you away from the table, moving your arms from side to side rather dumbly, twirling you on the spot before your chest was pressed against hers. The music was forgotten in the background, drowned by both yours and Lilia’s laughter as your bodies bent exaggeratedly from right to left. Christmas suited her, it was as if this holiday had been made for her, the lights that she had placed all around the room blinking on and off within a pattern, the bright colours mixing with the warm light bursting through the windows. Lilia twirled the both of you around the kitchen table until the song ended, “Feliz Navidad” now playing instead. Her lips landed briefly over yours, pecking you sweetly before she put you back to work with the dry ingredients.

-Don’t forget the baking soda. Last time you did, the cookies became a rock-hard mass.

-Hey! How was I supposed to know that the baking soda wasn’t in the baking soda bottle but in the saffron one? You are the one who loves to recycle.

-Why would I want to throw away a perfectly usable jar? Besides it’s not my fault you forget your glasses in the bathroom all the time.

-Oh yeah? – you grabbed the top of her apron and pushed her against you. – Where are yours now babe?

-You little…

-Ah! No cursing, you don’t want the dough to get upset and not rise, do you?

-I don’t know why you listen to Rio, that it’s obviously a myth.

-Do you want to risk it? – she shook her head, her pout transforming into a bright smile before she kissed you once again, humming happily against your lips.

There were still a few deep tones of the black coffee she had had for breakfast on her lips that your tongue picked up and savoured before turning back to your bowl. Sifting the flour so there would be no lumps you followed the powder with your eyes carefully, making sure every single drop was inside the bowl this time. Over a week ago you had been supposed to bake an apple pie for Sharon’s book club but there had been a few minor hiccups, one of them being you sifting the flour all over the table because you had been looking at Lilia while she talked about a client that had come in requesting the lottery number. When she turned around, she saw you covered in the white powder, bursting into unladylike snorts of laughter that had her entire face turning red, needing to sit for a moment to fill her lungs and calm herself down. Through the corner of her eye she watched you fill the bowl and congratulated you on not spilling it, a kiss on your temple, her hands busy slicing a couple of chocolate bars. She was teasing a bit, but every praise was always genuine when they came from her, a bubble of happiness wrapping around your heart. A pinch of salt and the baking soda and the dry ingredients were ready for the rest of the mix, Lilia wiping her hands on a tea towel before beginning to pour the eggs, sugar and melted butter mix. Instead of using a whisk you had grabbed a spatula from the sink, washing it before beginning to gently fold the batter until it was smooth but thick.

-Can you turn the oven on? I’m almost done with the chocolate.

-Can’t we just bake them with, you know… a flick of our wrist?

-I swear, Halloween Town has made so much damage. Being able to do something doesn’t mean we should, and you have never seen me turn chicken thighs back into a chicken, have you?

-No, but can we?

You knelt on the floor removing trays and plastic Tupperwares so they wouldn’t melt, turning knobs until the light came on and the fan began to work. You were thankful for all those squat trainings you did as you lifted the ceramic trays you had removed from inside the oven and placed them over the bed covers noticing that Lilia had not answer the question. When you turned around she was biting into a perfectly backed chocolate chip cookie, an eyebrow raised and a smirk on her lips.

-Why didn’t you tell me we actually could Lilia?!

-Because half of the fun is letting the smell of fresh baked cookies fill the house.

She stretched her hand, the half-eaten cookie waiting for you. You rushed back to her and took one big bite, moaning at the taste of the chocolate and vanilla essence, Lilia popping the rest in her mouth, pecking your lips after a moment. Even though she could clearly bake at the snap of her fingers she still moved to put parchment over a metal tray, grabbing a scoop from a drawer. She had already mixed the chocolate into the batter, the dough cold to the touch when you went to pick up some with your finger. So, she could chill it in a second instead of putting it in the fridge, but she did not want to bake them with her magic? A waste of time in your opinion, but then again, she might be right, as usual. The house did smell delicious for days after baking. Lilia had placed a bottle of olive oil on the table so you could lather your hands in it, the first scoop of batter landing in your palms so you could round them before placing them on the parchment paper, over two inches in between each cookie so they could rise and expand in the over without ending up as one giant monstrous thing. It had happened before. The first batch of eight cookies was done in just a few minutes, but there was still a bit of batter left, not that Lilia hadn’t thought of a solution already, another tray waiting for what was left. Just as you finished rounding the last one the oven begun to beep, and Lilia bent to put the trays inside, setting a timer for around fifteen minutes.

-Now for the sugar cookies. I’ll get the ingredients ready while you clean up the table, okay baby?

-Sure, just let me move this flour bag to the counter first.

Innocently you picked up the heavy bag, waddling slightly towards where Lilia had cleared a spot for it on the counter, feeling it slipping a bit off your hands, your steps faster so it wouldn’t end up on the floor. In slow motion you let it plop on the counter, just in time, your fingers barely holding onto it, but the motion had caused a white cloud of flour to come out of the bag right towards Lilia’s spot. Your hands shot to cover your mouth, eyes wide, when you turned to look at her, fighting the laughter that wanted to erupt out of your mouth. Lilia’s beautiful face with her rosy cheeks, big characteristic nose and plump lips was utterly covered in a thick layer of white. She blinked a few times, flour falling off her eyelashes giving her an even more comical look with her chocolate doe eyes staring at you through the white mask. Some of it had made its way to her hair, mixing perfectly with her curls. She opened her mouth to speak but she coughed instead, a small cloud of flour puffing in front of her right before sneezing, part of the powder falling onto the top of her dress and over her yellow apron. There was silence for a moment, not even YouTube Music was playing as she stared at you, hands on her hips. An instant later “Let it snow! Let it Snow! Let it Snow!” was filling up the room with its jolly tune, your laughter impossible to keep quiet.

You roared loudly, a hand still trying to cover your mouth while the other was holding onto your stomach, eyes moving from her face down to the floor. Lilia was staring dumbfounded at you, an offended look on her face as you laughed. Her hand shot to grab your arm pulling you towards her, eyes watering when you rose up to gaze at her. She stopped your laughter quickly, her hand throwing a handful of flour to your face, making you blink away the flour surprised at her action. Staring at each other there was no sound coming from either of you before Lilia chuckled, you following until you were both laughing, your hand grabbing more flour and throwing it in her direction, Lilia dodging it just in time. When you saw that she was putting her hand in the bag you rushed away from her giggling excitedly, feeling her behind you as you rounded the table, her flour missing you by an inch. She was now actively chasing you all throughout the house, your body sliding through the curtains and into the store. You were both leaving a trail of flour on the floor, but neither of you cared.

-I’ll get you for this!

-I’m sorry! I didn’t… - you could hardly breath from how much you were laughing, screaming in delight whenever she got close enough to grab you but never actually doing it. - I didn’t mean it!

-Come here!

You rushed to the door, pulling the glass gates open and stepping into the empty street. Sure, you were not wearing clothes appropriate for snow, your feet cozy inside your slippers, legs dressed in a pair of black leggings, but you hadn’t thought of that. Moving over two feet away from the house, Lilia following you out into the street, you took one step until you felt her hands grabbing onto your waist, pulling you against her. You yelped gleefully while laughing, feeling her arms snake around you, the perfect crispy snow reaching your mid-calf, the air cold, a contrast against Lilia’s delicious warm body.

-Got you. – she whispered in your ear, her breaths rapid and hot against the skin of your neck. You smiled while resting your head in the crook of her neck, very little flour left on your faces now.

-So you did.

-If it was all a ploy so we could come out and play in the snow you know you could have just told me.

-Hmmm, not a bad idea, but it was an accident.

-I know, baby. I’m not mad, but you are cleaning up when we are done baking.

Your mouth was open in shock, a retort forming in your tongue as you turned your face to look at her, but it never made it out of your mouth, her lips on yours kissing you tenderly, her soft ringlets caressing your cheeks. The chocolate cookie had left a wonderful sweet taste on her lips, or perhaps it was the bite you had had, either way, it seemed to fit her perfectly. You both stood over the snow for a few minutes observing the usual boring street covered in glistening white all over, on the roof tops, over the signposts. It was beautiful as long as you had Lilia behind you pecking your cheek. She turned you around after a while, holding onto your hands, pulling your frame back inside the cozy home. The oven had just begun to beep when you crossed the curtain to the back, Lilia rushing to them so they wouldn’t burn letting go of you. She was beautiful, spots of flour still clinging to her skin, like on her forehead or the tip of her nose, but they didn’t seem to bother her as she placed one tray on the stove and the other on the counter over a plate so it wouldn’t leave a burn mark on the old wood. You could spend every minute of your life watching her do anything.

They smelled absolutely delicious, the aroma spreading through the room to every corner, gently sliding into the shop. Over the bed covers you had left a rack which she picked up and left on the counter, you watching from your spot against the back wall as Lilia worked flawlessly, transferring the cookies along with the parchment paper to let them cool down. There was no room for the hot trays now, but that was no issue. Lilia turned, locking her eyes with you and then winked, lazy tendrils of yellow magic wrapping themselves around the trays and lifting them in the air, floating with gentle swaying motions over your heads. Everything related to Lilia’s magic was always so very mystical, visions, readings, the usual divination magic that she was used to, so it was wonderful to see the more practical, fun side of it, it meant she was relaxed and happy. She moved her hand beckoning you to join her, pulling out a pair of clean bowls after she had left the dirty ones in the sink.

-Why don’t you start with the icing?

-What happened with cleaning up the table?

-Flour on my face happened, doll. But don’t worry, there’s not much on the table now, I’ll just move those cups to the side if I need to.

-You don’t trust me anymore? – you pouted with a fake saddened tone as she took a stick of butter and a few eggs out of the fridge, turning her body towards you, a hand on the counter and the other on her hip, head lulled to the side. She sighed but smiled, your pouting making you look just so adorable.

-You know I do, otherwise I wouldn’t have given you the fun part of the recipe. You get to paint the cookies, baby.

-Yeah, but it’s fun doing things together. I want you to paint with me.

-Who said I wasn’t going to? You just make the icing and leave it on the side while I start on the batter and then we can cut them together. Does my baby like that?

Nodding your head she moved her hands to your cheeks kissing your lips tenderly, a smile on her lips when she parted from you. Happy that you had got, yet again, another kiss you took a small bowl from the cupboard above your head, checking the recipe that was stuck to the exhaust hood above the stove with a magnet before picking up two eggs, separating the yolks from the whites. Lilia kindly took the yolks and put them aside to use them at lunch time while you beat the whites with the whisk a bit. You didn’t need to do it, you just liked to before putting the icing sugar in, which you could not find in any of the cupboards. You pulled doors open, drawers, you even searched the fridge, it wouldn’t have been the first time any of you had accidentally put something in that didn’t belong there, but it was nowhere, and you could have sworn you had bought some not long ago. Lilia saw you moving frantically all over the kitchen and asked loudly what you needed over the music of “Jingle Bells Rocks” that was now playing. Upon hearing what you needed she moved aside to present you with a bright orange bottle.

Of course, she must have picked it and put aside when she had begun to gather ingredients. She was measuring the sugar, your eyes watching how her hands, dressed in rings on multiple fingers, tapped the bag and moved to the beath of the song. With a small cloud of floating icing sugar you mixed it all, a white paste forming in the bowl to which you added a little bit of corn syrup to make it glossier, just a touch that you liked. Now came the fun bit, taking the food colouring and crating the weirdest shades you could come up with. With a spoon you poured some of the mixture into an empty glass, adding a drop of red that turned pink upon mixing it with a teaspoon, so you added a few more, happy with the bright red that you made and setting it aside. Lilia looked at your science experiment from the corner of her eyes, hands adding spoonfuls of flour into the wet ingredients, folding the powder in. You were like a little kid with a bunch of sharpies and crayons painting lines and figures excited to see the final outcome, Lilia’s brown eyes looking at you as you mixed red and blue to create purple, although right now it looked a bit more like a suspicious brown. She let you finish mixing the colours, reminding you to leave part of the icing white, before adding the last few touches of a pinch of salt and baking powder, the dough clumpy in the bowl, as it should be.

 -Are you done with the arts and crafts, babe?

-Yeah, I think. How do you make grey?

-You don’t. I didn’t get any black colouring. Why would you want to add grey to Christmas cookies?

-Well, I don’t have an idea right now, but I like to have a range.

-Come on, Van Gogh, let’s roll the dough.

While you closed the last bottle of colouring Lilia placed the dough on the table, her strong arms and hands kneading and rolling to combine it and let it form a big smooth ball. You were mesmerised by the way her muscles moved up and down even through the lose sleeves of her dressing gown, her chest bouncing gently to the motion, your eyes glued to soft flesh of her neck and collarbones through the low-cut dress she was wearing, her amulet swaying along. It was incident to stare like that, but she was just too captivating, and she knew. She could feel your eyes watching her every move, a shiver running down her spine, but she never stopped kneading, there would plenty of time for her to take you to bed later. She gave it a few more punches before patting the little ball of dough, signalling that she was done.

-Should I get the rolling pin?

-Yeah, this is ready. It’s in the second drawer, next to the bottle opener.

-It’s too early for a glass wine, right?

-Yes, darling. It’s my company so bad that you need to get drunk at 10 am? – she raised an eyebrow while looking at you, a hand on her hip over her apron. Only a couple of feet separated you, but it was too much of a gap for you, snaking your arms around her neck while her hands automatically moved to your waist, her lips ghosting over yours.

-Never. You are far too alluring and beautiful, I would hate to get drunk and forget tomorrow how you looked today, or how your perfume compliments the smell of cookies so well.

A childish giggle escaped her mouth, muffled when she bent to peck your lips. She was clingy today, or amorous, either way you were not complaining. Parting from you she patted your hip, a sign that she needed you to get her the rolling pin, which of course you did. Anything she needed. There was a certain level of excitement building in your chest as Lilia rolled the dough until it was a quarter inch thick, the sheet overtaking half of the kitchen table, the best part coming at last.

-Right, where are the cookie cutters, babe?

-They should be in a box in the cupboard over the sink. Let me check. – pulling a chair from under the table you stepped on it to check in between the toaster and a juicer that you had got her for her birthday, date that she still refused to tell the girls in the coven, Sharon included as she could be a bit of babble when she had a glass or two of wine in her system. You searched but the box was nowhere to be found. – I can’t find them, did you move them, hon?

-No, not that I remember. Have you looked behind the coffee bags?

-Yeah, they’re not there. Where… Ah… I know where they are.

-Where? I’ll get them while you come down.

-Does the car have gas? – she was resting her backside against the edge of the desk as you stepped down, returning the chair underneath the table.

-What? What does the car have to do with anything?

-I lent them to Agatha.

-What? Why?

-I don’t know, I stopped asking her what she needs things for. I’m not getting another story of her and Rio’s sexual exploits during an expo or whatever. She just asked for them, so I lent them to her.

-You mean gave them to her. We are going to have to buy new ones. Well, it’s not too much of a loss, just grab a couple of knifes and we’ll freehand the cookies.

You practically hopped your way to the upper drawer to pick a pair, rushing back to her side and handing her one. You stared at the dough as if calculating, figuring out exactly what you wanted to do and after a moment, you began to create what you were sure was a candy cane, super proud of the shape until you looked at Lilia, who had had the same idea, and noticed how your lines were hardly straight and the curve was more a 90º angle.

-Why does yours look like an actual candy cane?

-Practice. Oh, yours is not that bad, baby. What is it?

-Ha ha. You know very well what it is.

-Yes, sorry, just teasing.

It was now a competition for you, eyes squinted and your teeth biting down on the tip of your tongue as you tried to keep the knife straight through every line, connecting them all and creating a star, or what you thought should be one, because it looked more as if it had just been run over by a car. Lilia laughed when she saw it and in a childish move you planted your index finger right on her Christmas tree, squishing it while sticking your tongue out. She gasped while calling your name.

-Y/N!

-You laughed at my star!

-It doesn’t look like one, baby.

-And now your tree doesn’t look like a tree, so we are even.

-Darling, it doesn’t matter if they are not perfect, we know what they are supposed to be and that’s all that matters. So what if your star needs a bit of therapy? Now my tree needs a chiropractor. Let’s continue, alright?

-Just don’t laugh again.

-I promise, scouts honour.

She pecked your lips and forehead before tuning back to the dough. The next form was supposed to be a snowman, but it looked more like a bunch of amorphous meatballs, a giggle sliding through your lips at the sight. You turned to check Lilia’s attempt at a reindeer which was more along the lines of a corgi with horns. You could not help it, it brought a cackle out of you, her peppery curls bouncing around her face as she wiped her head to look at you.

-I didn’t laugh at yours!

-Yeah, but… what the hell is that Lils?

-It’s a… It was supposed to be a reindeer.

-I’m sorry honey, but it looks nothing like one.

-Well, it’s a new breed. From Canada.

-Shall we name it? – your hand went to her shoulder, your head resting over it as you both watched the figure.

-Agatha, for stealing our cookie cutters.

She laughed at her own joke, your own snorting only adding to the humour of the moment, without a care in the world. Both of you carried on making shapes and forms, some of them better than others, some being additions to the “new breed from Canada”. You had pointed at each other’s creations laughing and praising, giving some of them names until you had the entire coven in cookie form, but you and Lilia’s figures could not be those weird interpretations of snowmens and trees, so you let her carve yourselves as two beautiful gingerbread women. It had started out as Christmas cookies but in the end, when Lilia had begun to move them to the floating trays, there had been more amorphous beings than accurate forms, but neither of you cared one bit, “Fairytale of New York” following “Santa Baby” on your Christmas playlist. Lilia’s head perked up at the sound of the music, pushing the door to the oven with her hip until it closed, setting a timer for ten minutes. She grabbed your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours as she pressed you against her, swaying to the song.

She must have been a singer and a dancer at some point in her life, there was just no way she could be that good and not have had shown her gift to the world at least once. You would ask her one of these days, but as of now you were happy to dance with her in the kitchen, listening to her sweet voice follow the tune. The moment was perfect, down to the song, to the way the sun caught in her hair as she twirled you both around the room, her citrusy perfume filling up your lungs along with the sweetness of the cookies. How could you have ever been blue? How could you have ever thought that happiness was not in for you? Lilia had come into your life and the world was suddenly a beautiful place where nothing could ever go wrong. Staring at her eyes it was as if they were the melted chocolate you had tasted on her lips earlier, warm and loving.

-They've got cars big as bars, they've got rivers of gold.

-But the wind goes right through you, it's no place for the old.

-When you first took my hand on a cold Christmas Eve.

-You promised me Broadway was waiting for me.

-You were handsome

-You were pretty, Queen of New York City

She laughed at the nickname, head lulled back, her feet never stopping, moving from side to side. The living area wasn’t precisely Buckingham Place, but you two made it work, and as Lilia’s moved both your bodies, her dressing gown brushing the foot of the Christmas tree, she truly showed you how much that tiny little room could give. The warm light that had bathed the room suddenly disappeared, the bright colourful lights that she had placed in every corner overtaking and lighting up the room in a dance of colours and shapes. Your eyes drifted to the window seeing the sky covered by big fluffy white clouds, a gentle breeze having picked up outside the house, the first few snowflakes beginning to fall, but Lilia claimed your attention when she pushed your body away form hers while still holding your hands.

-The boys of the NYPD choir were singing Galway Bay and the bells were ringing out for Christmas day.

She pulled you back against her body once again, her arms around your waist, your hands resting on the back of her neck twirling her soft curls in between your fingers. Her forehead was pressed against yours, the movements slow as the song carried onto the last few verses letting the words drip from her lips in hushed tones only for you to hear. The two of you had closed your eyes letting the warmth of each other’s bodies wrap around you, basking in the way you could feel the love seeping from every pore, from every word that escaped her lips. It wasn’t until she sang the last verse, her breath tickling your nose, that she did press her lips to yours, hiding her face into the crook of your neck after a few moments to escape the reality outside those four walls. “Auld Lang Syne” followed, the softer tune perfect for you both to simply sway on the spot, your hands caressing Lilia’s hair and neck, your cheek resting against her ear as she breathed in your perfume and shampoo, humming happily. Neither of you wanted the moment to end, feeling as if being like this, in each other’s arms, was just the perfect way to live Christmas Eve before the craziness of going over to Sharon’s with the rest of the coven happened. You wanted to savour every second you had with Lilia and only Lilia. For once the world could wait, stop moving altogether until you were ready to carry on with life, though you doubted you would ever let the happen.

Right on time the last few notes playing marked start of another song, the oven starting to beep. Lilia did not wish to move, but she had to, extracting herself after a minute to pull the trays out, letting them float around just like she had done before. You helped her transfer the chocolate chip cookies onto a plate, setting them aside so she could let the sugar cookies out of the trays and onto the racks. But you were impatient, she knew, and with a flick of her wrist, your eyes shinning gleefully as you watched a few sparkles of golden magic fly from her fingertips, they were cold enough to be placed on the kitchen table to be decorated.

-Do you have any ideas you want to share, darling?

-Not really, well, maybe. I think we should paint the Coven with their signature colours.

-Alright. Let’s start with Agatha, that way if she looks bad it won’t matter much. She owes me a bunch of cutters.

It was playful banter, she didn’t really hate Agatha, quite the opposite, she took care of the woman as if she were a daughter, looking after her, looking out for her, protecting her from the world as if she were afraid someone could break her. It was one of the main things that had attracted you to her at first, her caring, nurturing nature. She picked up an empty pipping bag and let you fill it up with the purple icing before cutting the tip. The first blob fell right in the middle of the reindeer, and since there wasn’t much she could now she carried on. The shape was horrid, but she assured you that once the details were added it would bring it all together. You weren’t very sure. The eyes looked a bit disproportionate, and the antlers were a bit thick, but all in all Lilia thought it looked good, and you didn’t want to disagree.

-My turn now, let me do Sharon. In green?

-Yeah, we have two green witches, we’ll just make Rio’s eyes brown and call it a day.

You might not have been gifted with the knife, but you sure were better with the pipping bag than Lilia. Your reindeer was more accurate, green but accurate, the small beady eyes perfectly positioned but the antlers… the looked like a bunch of worms. It suited a green witch you supposed. Lilia was quick to praise and tell you that it was beautiful, kissing your temple and watching as you did Rio’s as well, a perfect reindeer in front you down to red nose and everything. You were so excited, bouncing in her arms, her words filled with love and joy as she told you just how pretty it was. Her hands moved on to Jen, the shape of the snowwoman much easier than that of a reindeer in pretty shade of pink, the eyes and buttons brown, along with a blue scarf and orange nose. She put it aside to let the icing harden your hands working on Billy as she did Alice, both snowman that looked pretty decent taking on account that Lilia’s orange pipping bag burst in her hand just as she was finishing Alice’s body, icing all over the table and a couple of candy cane cookies.

-What a mess!

-Baking is messy, Lils. Don’t worry, there’s enough icing left to make more orange.

-But…

-It’s perfectly fine, honey, honestly. Just clean that up and I’ll make more. And those two cookies can be like orange flavoured candy canes. See? Problem solved.

-My baking hero.

Grabbing a glass after she pecked your cheek, you were quick to blend the right shade of orange, putting it inside a new pipping bag and handing it to Lilia so she could finish Alice’s body. It was beautiful to do this together, Lilia’s lines wiggly and the consistency a big lumpy when she tried to do the first few stockings until she gave up and moved on to the stars, easier in her opinion. You tried to write names on the stockings once she had moved them to your side of the table, but they were more like scribbles that no one could understand, still the colour code every member of the coven had settled for kind of helped to identify which was for which. The moment was both cozy and hilarious, pointing at the figures you were both painting, commenting, laughing and scraping to begin again only to end up with the same wiggly lines and mismatched colours. Lilia once in a while added her own touch to one of your cookies, be it a weird bow or a string of tinsel around a tree while you gave hers a more artistic touch by adding sparkles to her candy canes or little dots of colour on her reindeer’s antlers claiming that they were Christmas lights. She had laughed hard at that stating in between laboured breaths that it looked as if the poor thing had crashed a farmers’ market, and to be honest it kind of did, laughing along with her, your body pressed against her arm as you both shook and cackled. But neither of you cared, they were yours and in their horrid looks they looked perfect to you. The only thing left was to paint were you and Lilia’s gingerbread women, something that you were left in charge of as Lilia didn’t want to risk it. The pressure was real as you did Lilia’s face, her curls a mix of white and brown icing before you moved onto the clothes giving her a yellow jacket, white blouse and blue pants, the outfit you had met her in when she had been thrown out of the Witches Road after fishing her task. She had been covered in mud back then, but you weren’t one to add brown and destroy her beautiful cookie. You put as much effort in your own, dressing yourself in a pair of black trousers and a red blouse, your hair in a bun above your head.

-They look beautiful babe. Mirror images of reality.

-It’s easy when you have the perfect model in front of you. – she smiled at the compliment, a gentle pink hue dressing her cheeks. She blushed so tenderly and so beautifully.

-Flattery will get you everywhere with me, darling.

-I certainly hope so.

-As much as I love the idea of letting you have your way with me, why don’t we let these cookies settle for a bit and go out?

-Everything’s closed.

-I didn’t say that we had to go somewhere in specific. You like snow, don’t you?

-Of course!

-Then get your winter boots on and let’s make a real snowman!

-Really?!

You jumped on the spot nearly knocking over the table, Lilia’s hands shooting to grab it, your lips on her cheek before rushing to the other side of the room. You apologised while running to your closet, grabbing a jumper, a pair of thicker trousers along with some Harry Potter socks and rushing to the bathroom, your voice reaching her ears as you sang loudly, your voice filled with joy, knocking over things that were on the sink.

-Do you want to build a snowman?!

-Oh, God, not “Frozen” again.

[vintagegirl01]

Fortelling Events

Steven Grant x divination witch female reader (Implied moon boys x fem! reader)

A/N: Please do NOT read if you have not watched episode 7 of Agatha All Along. Major Spoilers AHEAD. Happy Early Halloween 🎃! Hope you all enjoy this fic.

Summary: When you learn about the death of your divination mentor, Lilia Calderu, you are at loss. Nevertheless, your sweet boyfriend is there to comfort you through it.

____________________________________________

For the last few days, you have had a bad feeling that something was going to happen. As a divination witch, you’ve always had that gift to be able to see beyond but have only used if and when absolutely necessary. Though another part of it had to do with the fact that having the abilities that you had made you different from everyone else.

All that changed when you sought out the help of Lilia Calderu a few years back. Despite being reluctant at first, she took you under her wing and helped you learn more about divination. Because of her, you found friendship. In fact, she was the one that told you about the love that you’d eventually find with the boys. Though at the time you didn’t believe her when she mentioned the loves of your live. Loves being more than one. In fact, you were for sure you misheard her until she begin mentioning more details here and there as you continued training with her. It would only be a few more months when she made her last prediction about your love life that you met the boys.

However, it was Steven you met first when you were at a bookstore looking for a particular book about unusual herbal teas. After that, it was only a matter of time that you met Marc and Jake did you realize that you realized that Lilia’s words were true.

____________________________________________

You see Lilia Calderu in a Glinda the good witch costume with what you assume to be other witches, 2 women and a teen boy, surrounding her in costumes from various media .

The next thing you see is a Lilia talking to these individuals separately before telling the woman named Jennifer that she loved being a witch and shutting the doors.

Not completely understanding the situation, you know enough to know that the phrase seemed like a goodbye.

You then see seven dark figures begin to enter the room waiting to attack Lilia. As they began to move, Lilia grabbed the reversed Tower tarot card from the trial and flipped it right side up, causing the trial room to invert. Lilia and the Salem Seven plummeted into the swords on the ceiling.

After seeing those seven dark figures fall, you see Lilia seems content before letting go of the table and falling.

Not wanting to believe this is the end, you try to call out to her in hopes that she can hear you or maybe prove to yourself that this is only a figment of your imagination and that the older women is actually okay. You then hear her own voice tell you that everything will be okay. That this is how things are supposed to be, before mentioning how you will do great things.

“Lilia! Lilia! NO!!!!”

You then are awoken to Steven’s worried face. Feeling your face, you feel the tears rolling down your cheeks as well as the perspiration on your face.

“Love, are you alright? You were practically screaming bloody murder?”

“I…I…I’m fine.”

You then get up from the bed and head to the bathroom before sinking to the floor and crying for the mentor and friend that you lost. The one who you felt understood you for being what you are.

A witch with no coven.

____________________________________________

These past few days, Steven had noticed that you hadn’t really been yourself. Though you tried to convince him otherwise, he and you had been dating long enough to know that this wasn’t your normal behavior. Nevertheless, he gave you space and kept reminding you to that he was there for you whenever you needed him.

Yet, hearing you scream in your sleep just a few moments ago told him that this problem wasn’t something minor.

After talking it out with his head mates, Marc and Jake, Steven decides to go talk to you. Knocking on the bathroom door, he begins to speak from his heart.

“Love? I don’t know what’s going on right now but whatever it is, I want to be there. Right next to you.”

Expecting for you to put up more of a fight, Steven is shocked to see you open the bathroom door. A second later, you are hugging him, breaking down as you tell him about the loss of your mentor, friend, and sister of the craft.

“…I could have done something to help her. Let her know of the visions I was having. Perhaps it would have been enough to save her.” You begin to sigh, as you wipe your tears. “For the longest time, I never thought I’d find someone that understood what I went through regarding my powers. At a young age, people thought me strange for knowing things. Now that she’s gone, I’m a witch with no coven.”

Steven shakes his head. “That’s not true, love. Though I may not be a witch or warlock, you and I are a team.” He smiles before bringing you into a side hug. “Marc and Jake said the same too. So now you officially have a coven, my love.”

You look up at him smiling. “Thank you, Steven. All three of you.”

“No problem, love”, Steven responds back. “Now, just know that I will be here to help you deal with this loss. As I said before, I’m a part of your coven. We all are.”

You lean into kiss Steven. For you are truly grateful for having him in your life as Lilia had once foretold.

As you pull back, you nuzzle into your boyfriend’s side as you think about the eccentric yet kind older woman who helped you all those years ago lead the life you currently live as a confident and capable witch.

It’s another few minutes before you and Steven get up from the bathroom floor and heading to your shared bedroom for the night.

Though it will take time to come to terms with her death, you are so glad to have a coven and family within the loves of your love.

[ragnarockz]

Going to be really boring with the ask but: Agatha Harkness for:

5: What kind of tea do they like?

20: What would their favorite book series be?

And then Lilia calderu

12: How many piercings do they have, which ones, and how often do they wear them?

13: Would they let a small child paint their nails?

14: Are they a good babysitter?

and Jennifer Kale:

17: Math Gay, English Gay, or both?

THESE ARE SO GOOD I'M SO EXCITED!

Agatha:

5. What kind of tea do they like?

omg listen...I hear/read/see the word 'tea' and my brain goes ballistic. I LOVE tea; I have a tattoo of a TEA KETTLE. But aside from all that, I think she's definitely a herbal tea drinker. I mean, she probably had to make a lot of tea and know what plants were safe to ingest when she was living out in the woods with Nick and I think that stuck with her throughout time. Lots of good remedies/health benefits come from it and I think that's also something very magical (and hey yeah, plants can improve your health and well shit, RIO OUT HERE MAKING THOSE PLANTS!) That's a win/win situation right there.

(back to edit - making tea in Wandavision 🥰)

20. What would their favorite book series be?

Ok so we all know she's a voracious reader I mean, the girl was trying to steal a (spell) BOOK. And, we had Detective Agnes go into an ACTUAL library to do her investigation and not use the (especially in this day and age) libraries website to find the book she was looking for. ALSO, HER HOUSE?

Brb breaking in to steal all her books. As for a book series though, it's probably something old, maybe even a history series or mythology. She definitely feels like someone who knows her history (to use it as she will in the worst ways possible). Knowledge is power and knowledge is sexy.

(coming back to edit this post because I couldn't find the pic this morning but yeah! Agnes visiting the library! Just like me for real, I have two books due soon 😅)

Lilia:

12. How many piercings do they have, which ones, and how often do they wear them?

I think she would just have her lobes, very European (especially Italian), to have your ears pierced at a very young age. And she would wear them all the time!

13. Would they let a small child paint their nails?

Oh for sure! 🥺 I think she would be wonderful around kids, especially younger ones. She brings such warm vibes and I think just her having some love and attention put onto her warms her heart.

14. Are they a good babysitter?

I would think so! Just...just don't feed any of those kids anything expired ma'am...please..

Jennifer:

17. Math Gay, English Gay, or both?

Oh she is very, very smart. Look how far that woman has come even BOUND. She has her own business! She was a midwife! A root worker! She had to know how to read and apply maths and sciences to her practices.

[aggieharkness]

would you do a story with lilia calderu maybe surrounding substance misuse? like maybe hiding it from her? you can decide the details of it all

Survivor

Pairing: Lilia Calderu x reader

Summary: It is said that time heals but you hadn't believed it at all, the dark thoughts crushing you once again, drawing you into a past that you wanted to run away from. You had felt so alone. But she took your hands and steadied you, guided you to the light. Perhaps time didn't heal, but you were sure Lilia did

Warnings: substance misuse, mention of drugs, mention of alcohol, alcoholism, past abuse, past child abuse, bullying, implied suicide. I'm sorry if I've forgotten any warnings.

Authors note: I'm sorry it took me a bit longer to post, but I hope that this story is what you were expecting and that if it hits close to home that it helps you heal and move forward. Some of the experiences are real and are my own, so please, be kind. If there is anything at all that you don't like, tell me and I'll change it, or if you want something else, I'm here. Thanks for the request, btw.

Special thanks to @renafisher27 for checking part of it. Love you girl!

Survivor

You were two hours late. Lilia glanced at the clock on the wall, the thin black hands staring back at her, telling her that you were not going to come. The table had been set, a beautiful rose in the middle of it surrounded by candles, a delicious meal in the oven that had turned cold a while ago, the smell lingering in the air. You had promised you would come to her tonight, that you would spend a quiet evening together, you had sworn you would be there, but alas, the house was empty except for the silence that dressed Lilia’s sorrow. She had thought you cared about her, she had let herself believe you cared about her, but it was obvious that you did not, or at least not enough to think that this entire date might be important to her, that you were important to her. She felt anger rising on her chest as the clock struck nine, and in a gust of fury she stood from her chair and stomped towards the front door, grabbing her shawl and purse. She didn’t bother to blow the candles, her magic sparkled incessantly in between her fingers making the lights flicker and the flames vanish into nothing, thin threads of smoke rising up in the air in rivulets.

You lived next door, literally a door down from her, which made things even worse as Lilia, in a beautiful dark grey dress with spaghetti straps, rushed down the street, her gown brushing the dirty pavement as her heels made loud footsteps until she stood before your building. The lock was broken, and no one had bothered to fix it yet, so she pushed the gates, the metal of the door banging and bouncing against the wall, the loud sound echoing out into the street, but she didn’t care, she had a mission, and she was going to tell you exactly what she thought of your behaviour. But upon reaching your door she stopped. What if you were not there? What if you had been in a terrible accident and had hurt yourself? What if you had… died? She began to spiral into this sea of what ifs, images clouding her mind as her feet paced from one side of the empty hallway to the other. If it had indeed happened, why hadn’t she seen it, she should have seen your demise, no one she had ever cared about hadn’t passed without her not having seen it first. Maybe you had not gone to her house because you were working late, had she even asked you at what time did you get out today?

Noises coming from the other side of the door woke her up from her spiralling, the sounds calming her racing heart. You were home. Wait, you were home! She felt the anger spiking again, only muffled by the fact that you were alive, but that did not stop her from using her spare key and barging in. Now this was something she had not expected. All the lights were off, not even the streetlights could be seen coming from the windows, it was as if she had walked into a deep dark tunnel, and the simple feeling that she got as she stepped inside made her shiver on the spot. Something was wrong, she could sense it, but she could not figure out what it was as she traded careful over the carpet, the door left ajar so a little bit of light could come in. The entire apartment was quiet, the noises she had just heard faint memories by then, her breathing and her own blood pumping through her veins, the only sounds that her ears could hear. Upon reaching the intersection between the kitchen and the living room her foot kicked something. It was cold to the touch of her bare toes, and it seemed to be cylindrical, her eyes fighting to get a better view of the object as she pushed it from under her dress. How odd, what was an empty bottle of vodka doing on the floor?

She had never seen you drink, not even when you two went out on dates, no, you always choose water or juices, maybe a hot chocolate if it was a breakfast date, but never ever alcohol. Had you… had you brought someone home? She could not bare the thought of you doing something like that to her, her heart breaking slightly at the possibility that you had cheated on her. There she had been, at home, waiting like a fool for you to rush into her arms only to find out that there might be someone other than her holding you in bed, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. Someone loving you like she did. She was letting her mind wander once again, and she could not afford it, she had to find you, so she forced herself to breath deeply, letting those thoughts be pushed to the back of her mind, after all it was only an empty bottle on the floor, it could mean literally anything. She lifted herself off the floor, the bottle in her hand as she stepped into the living room. It was even darker, the windows blocked by something, but how was she supposed to make her way towards them if she could not see what was two inches in front of her? This is how people die in horror movies, she thought.

Each step took her closer to a big object she could sort of make out the shape off, crashing into it after a moment, nearly bending over what she realised was the couch. Okay, she had to see, a freaking vampire could come out of any corner at any minute, and she’d be dammed if she was going to fight one in the dark. It had happened before, and it had not been a pleasant experience. With a snap of her fingers a tiny little bulb of yellow light brightened the room, a sigh of relief puffing out as she was finally able to see, but what her eyes came across with as she took in the room was far from what she had expected. The couch had clothes spread all over it, whether they were clean or not she could not tell, but there was certainly this thick odour that resembled that of a closed house, as if you had not bothered to ventilate in weeks. You had not spent that much time down at her place, this wasn’t something related to you sleeping with her, it ran deeper, she could feel it in her bones. Rounding the couch, she saw containers of different takeaways laying over the coffee table, rotting food inside, though the smell had not yet spread throughout the room.

Alarms had begun to go in her head the instant she had stepped into your house, but now she could have almost lit up like a Christmas trees had she had warning lights. This, whatever it was, was very very wrong, more bottles laying in between blankets and under the couch and tables, her eyes finally seeing that there were cardboards against the windows so no light would come in. Why would you do that? You loved the sunlight, you adored walking with her in the park, down in the woods, any place Lilia desired, she could not comprehend why you would run away from it now. A sound came from the other side of the apartment, startling her to the point that she almost tripped with a bag that you had left in the middle of the floor, making her turn her body towards the source of the noise and begin walking in slow steps. It had to be you, unless it was a thief, or worse, a murderer; Divine Mother, she needed to stop doing this to herself, she was going to give herself a heart attack one of these days. Reaching the foyer again the light from her fingers showed that your bedroom was right across the hall, the door ajar, a gentle blue light coming from under it as the noises got louder until suddenly, she heard your voice. It was quiet, and she could not understand very well what you were saying, but she picked up on the hurt tone that tainted them. Carefully she pushed it open until she could finally see you.

This room was the worst out of the entire house. There weren’t only bottles spread all throughout the floor, desk and nightstands, but packets of beers and premade cocktails laying over the ruined carpet, clothes and trash everywhere. Lilia flicked the switch so the lamp above your head would light up the room instead of the screen of your phone, but nothing happened, the motion making you turn your head over your shoulders from the spot you had on your bed, your back to the door. What was Lilia doing there? Was the alcohol making you see things? It wasn’t supposed to do that, the drugs were, but you hadn’t taken any, yet. Shit, you had forgotten about the date. Looking up at her you were waiting for the moment she would start screaming at you, telling you how utterly disgusting you looked and how disappointed she was, but it never came, she could only stare dumbfounded at you, your eyes raking over her beautiful dress and tidy curls to the bottle of vodka that she had in her hand. Lilia could not even begin to process the way you were looking at her, like a child who was waiting to be scolded, to be yelled at, your make up smeared all over your cheeks and chin, splatters of alcohol staining your clothes, a notebook in front of your crossed legs, a bag with a white powder resting over your left knee. Oh, Divine Mother, you were… no… you couldn’t be. Your hoarse voice and slurred words reached her ears, but it was the terrified tone what hit her heart as if it had just been run over by a train.

-Get out! You are not supposed to be here!

-Y/N

-NO! I CAN’T DO THIS WITH YOU HERE!

-Do what? – you had never raised your voice at her, in nearly a year of being with her the most she had heard you scream was one time when you had almost burnt yourself as you were pulling out a roasted chicken from the oven. That had been a funny little moment, but this was far from that, this was bad, really bad, and Lilia found herself dropping the empty bottle on a chair and walking to your side as slowly as possible, kneeling gently in front of you. Her hands itched to take yours but you were holding onto your hoody with such strength that it was making your knuckles white. - Y/N, please, tell me what’s wrong.

-I can’t. Please, Lilia, please, go away. This is not… I’m not… You are not supposed to see this. GO HOME!

-Y/N.

Suddenly your phone rang, the ringtone loud and shrilling in your ears, the name of some woman appearing on the screen. You growled at the sight, picking it up and motioning your arm as to throw it against the wall, but Lilia’s warm hand stopped you, wrapping around your wrist and pulling it down gently, your fingers letting go of the phone until it fell with a thud over the mattress. You stared up at her, the tears that had stopped falling about ten minutes ago returning in earnest, those big doe eyes of hers watching you as if you were something broken. You could not fight it, you were. The horrid sound carried on until you slid your finger over the green sign to answer it, the sound of a woman’s voice filling up the space after you tapped on the speaker symbol. If this is how things were going to come out, if Lilia was going to learn the truth tonight, might as well do it right.

-Oh, so now you answer the phone!

-Please, stop calling mom. I can’t do this, not again.

-Is this how you speak to me?! You owe me your life you ungrateful bitch! I put a stop to my own to raise you, you owe me Y/N.

-I don’t owe you shit! – you turned your body away from Lilia’s touch, unsure of how you were going to react all throughout the conversation; you didn’t want her to get hurt, she did not deserve to end up in harm’s way because of your messy life. - Every time you call is to ask for money or to insult me and degrade me and I can’t do it! I was clean mom, for a fucking year; I was doing great and then you had to come back! WHY?!

-DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE SCREAM AT ME! IT’S YOUR OWN FAULT THAT YOU’VE FALLEN BACK INTO DRINKING. YOU ARE WEAK, USELESS!

-STOP! FOR FUCK’S SAKES STOP! YOU LEFT ME ALONE FOR A YEAR, ONE WHOLE ASS YEAR AND I GOT CLEAN! WHY HAVE YOU COME BACK?!

-IF THIS IS HOW YOU ARE GOING TO BEHAVE, IF THIS IS HOW UNGRATEFUL YOU STILL ARE, MAYBE YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED WHEN YOU HAD THAT OVERDOSE TWO YEARS AGO!

The silence that followed was fucking deafening, your limbs feeling like lead as her words stabbed you deep, the phone slipping from your fingers until it landed on the bed, so very deep that you grabbed the closest bottle, whiskey Lilia saw, and brought it to your lips, but she was faster and pushed it away, fighting with you to take it from your hands until it slipped onto the floor, crashing against the wood, the amber liquid spreading and staining the edge of the carpet. The only thing you wanted to do was crawl into a ball and wait until death claimed you. You hurt too much; you felt exactly like your mother had said, weak, useless, a fucking failure and Lilia was now there to see the real you when you had fought so hard to hide all this from her. She didn’t deserve someone as broken as you, you thought, the phone forgotten at the foot of the bed as your mother kept talking, berating you. She had never stopped, since the moment you had been placed in her arms you had been a mistake, an accident that should have never happened, and both her and life had never stopped reminding you. The only person that had cared for you simply because had been Lilia, and now she would run away like all of them had done before her. You could not do this, you just couldn’t, your face hidden into your pillow as you cried, hands over your ears to drown out your mother’s voice.

-Listen here lady, - Lilia stepped in then, picking up your phone and bring it to close to her lips, her voice clear and hard, so cold that if you had been at the receiving end, you would have felt a shiver running down your spine. This was clearly a recuring event in your life, one you had never mentioned, but that wasn’t important right now, the main thing was to get your mother to shut up. - I don’t know who you are, but I can tell you one thing. Y/N is not weak, or useless or any of the many things you’ve called her, she’s the most wonderful woman I have ever met.

-Who the hell are you? Y/N, are you still there? Who the fuck am I talking to?!

-I’m her girlfriend and you need to…

-Oh, so you are trying to ruin someone else now? Great job Y/n, fucking fantastic. Are you going to call me again crying “mommy mommy, they’ve stolen from me, they’ve broken my heart” like the fucking pathetic idiot you are?!

-I will not tolerate this talk from you lady! I don’t know who the hell you think you might be, but you have no right to speak to Y/N this way. You are supposed to be the most important person in her life, the one she can trust, and you are failing at that. Maybe Y/N is not be faulted for what you have driven her to do! She’s not weak, she’s not a failure, she has survived you, and that says plenty. If you had acted as a mother when you were supposed to, she would not be like this now!

-Who the fuck…

-I’M TALKING AND YOU WILL WAIT UNTIL I’M DONE! – the other woman fell silent, stunned at the other end of the phone, probably unused to someone actually having the balls to tell her to keep her mouth shut, but Lilia was on a roll, and she keep talking without even noticing. - You have no right to say to her that she should have died when she was at rock bottom, and she needed you! So how about you say what you phoned her for, and we can all end this before we say things that we will fully regret.

-Well… Now she has a defender. This is new. I’ll tell you what’s going to happen lady, she’s going to go back to doing drugs and to drinking when life doesn’t handle her things on a silver plate and drag you down with her. She’s always been a spoiled brat, and she will remain being so.

-THAT’S NOT TRUE! – you jolted from your spot to kneel in front of Lilia, snatching the phone from her hand, your face red from crying, your voice so loud that you were sure your neighbours would come down in a minute and reprimand you. -YOU NEVER GAVE ME SHIT; I HAD TO GO TO THE NEIGHBOURS HOUSE TO GET FOOD AND RIDES TO SCHOOL BECAUSE YOU WEREN’T THERE! WHEN I BROKE MY ARM YOU MADE ME GO TO SCHOOL WITH A FUCKING STICK TIED TO A BEDSHEET BECAUSE YOU DIDN’T WANT TO TAKE ME TO THE DOCTORS!

-HERE WE GO AGAIN WITH THE LIES! THAT’S WHAT YOUR TEACHERS ALWAYS USE TO SAY; YOU LIED TO GET OUT OF DETENTION BECAUSE YOU COULD NOT FACE THE CONSEQUENCES TO YOUR ACTIONS!

-I WAS CHASED OUT OF THE FUCKING DINNING HALL AND THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO BE FUCKING KILLED!! IT WASN’T MY FAULT! NONE OF THIS WAS! WHY WON’T ANYONE LISTEN TO ME?!

-LIARS DON’T DESERVE TO BE HEARD! YOU BROUGHT THIS ON YOURSELF!

The scream that tore out of your throat was so raw, so full of pain that it felt as if you were tearing it out of your chest, maybe you were ripping it out of your broken and smashed heart. This was why you had poured everything that had ever happened to you into drugs and alcohol, they made you numb, they made you forget, they killed you at a faster rate, but tonight the four bottles of vodka, tequila and whiskey didn’t seem to have the desired effect, quite the opposite, everything felt worse, a thousand times worse. Your mother’s words had cut deep, so fucking deep that you were nearly bleeding into your mattress, the phone forgotten somewhere over the carpet as you had throwing it against the floor, your hands grabbing your hair and pulling hard as if that could make the pain lessen. You could not hear anything but you own sobs, breaths hurried to the point that you were sure you would hyperventilate in a moment if you didn’t control it soon, but how could you with how the world was crushing down around you once more.

You had spent your entire life telling everyone around you the things that people had done to you, of the abuse, of the lies, the deceit, the injuries, everything, and they all had had one thing in common; oh, your poor mother must have felt awful, they said. What a fucking bunch of assholes you had thought. No one had ever asked how YOU were doing, if you were over it, if it still hurt, if it caused you problems. No on cared about you and you just couldn’t handle it, not anymore. You had been labelled a liar for as long as you could remember, everything was your fault; when that boy had smashed a rock on your head, it had been your fault, when you had been pushed down the stairs, you had been at fault as well, when your teachers had pulled you out of your classroom and had yelled at you that you were crazy and that you would become a criminal by the time you were eighteen, blowing up cars and such, you had cried and you yourself had thought, this is my fault as well. Lilia could not bring herself to say anything, she turned your phone to see that the screen was cracked, but the call had ended, thankfully, and she simply picked it up and placed it on the nightstand before turning her attention to you, her shawl and purse resting on the carpet.

She moved her hands slowly up to your arms, but the instant her fingers rested on your wrists you moved away quickly, crawling hurriedly to the edge of the bed until your hands were on the floor, rushing the nearest corner. She knew you were scared, that you were in pain, she wasn’t a stranger to all those feelings, but she had never known that you were experiencing them so strongly. She sighed and stood, rounding the bed and making her way to you, sitting in front of your shaky form. All those bottles she had seen couldn’t be from today, you had gone back to drinking, but why? Was it all your mother, was it something else, a mix of circumstances that you could not have prevented? There were so many questions that she needed answers to, but you were in no position to give them to her, and her priority wasn’t getting them, but making sure that you were alright. She sat a bit closer, her knees nearly touching yours, but she remained at a certain distance to give you space should you need it.

-May I… May I touch you Y/N? – you lifted your head from where it was hidden in your arms, tears running down your cheeks, face puffed and red. Why was she still here? Did she like seeing you run down? Others had thrived in seeing you crying, destroyed on the floor, they had loved to see you as a shell of yourself. Your eyes locked with hers, but you didn’t see any of that happiness and power the others had had, she was looking at you with worry, with a caring aura about her that took you by surprise.

-Why are you here?

-I was worried about you. Actually, I was angry thinking you had forgotten about me and our date.

-I… I did. I’m sorry, I messed everything up. – you crawled back into yourself a little, breaking her gaze and looking down at the floor, ashamed.

-You did not.

-You don’t have to lie to me, I know I did. You probably had something awesome prepared, and I did not go because I was too busy fucking up my life again.

-If you say that you’ve been clean for a year, why did you go back to all this?

-Because she called. – she barely heard the words you had whispered, your head practically tucked into your chest and arms. With careful movements Lilia tried her luck once more, placing her hand on your wrist, smiling a bit as you didn’t pull away, the warmth of her skin over yours a contrast with the coolness of your room. Why was she being so nice to you? Did she pity you? It wouldn’t be the first time someone had taken advantage of you because they made you believe they cared only to pity you and your disaster of a life. Your body did not fight her when tenderly she took you in her arms, sitting with her back against the wall and you on her lap. She smelled so nice, so much like home, and you held onto the straps of her dress as if they were lifelines, saving you from a deep abyss that was calling out your name.

-When was the first time she called?

-A couple of weeks ago.

-Do you want to tell me why?

-Money. She only ever calls for money. – Lilia cradled your head closer to her chest, and though she knew it wouldn’t take away your pain perhaps she could dimmish it as best she could, but to get to that point she knew you both had to cross a very dangerous bridge. – She’s always been like that, taking it all as soon as I started working when I was sixteen just so she could spoil her stupid boyfriends. I couldn’t even pay for college. I had been saving for like three years to go to community college and she took it. She took it all, didn’t even leave a cent because her fucking boyfriend wanted to go to Hawaii!

-But this time you didn’t give in and she’s mad, right?

-I didn’t give in to her but… I don’t want to talk about it anymore.

-Darling, I know it hurts; I know you feel ashamed, but things won’t get better unless you share this with me. You know I love you and I won’t ever judge you for what you might have done, for how you learnt to cope with it all. – tears were still running down your cheeks, but she did not care, she tilted your head until your puffy red eyes were staring back at her brown deep ones, her voice quiet and loving as she spoke to you. - Talk to me Y/N.

-You will think me a stupid kid, like the rest of them. You will side with my mum and when I’m done you will say that I overreacted and that I let myself fall into this because I didn’t grow up. I don’t want to see that from you Lilia. – you had begun to slip from her arms to try and gain as much distance from her as possible knowing that your heart couldn’t take it if she dumped you. She had meant so much to you, she still did, and you honestly thought that she would always be the most important person that had ever entered your life, but her touch was hard and yet tender, and she didn’t let you move more than just a few inches from her grasp.

-Hey, have I ever left you alone when you were down, when you were having a bad day at work or when you were just simply feeling bad about yourself?

-No.

-Then what makes you think that I will now? I’m not like other people, I know how it feels to be abandoned, to not know what to do with yourself when the pain is all consuming. I’m not going anywhere.

-I don’t think I can do this Lilia. I don’t have the strength.

-Then let me be strong for you. You need to let it out before you can begin to heal, as painful as it may be.  

There was truth is every word she spoke, in the way her eyes glinted under the light that was coming from her fingers, the yellow glow reflecting on her peppery curls and olive kissed skin as she caressed your cheeks. You had been to therapist after therapist since the age of eight, and yeah, they had heard you but they had never listened, they had never ever done shit for you, and yet, looking up at Lilia in the darkness of your room, protected and safe in her embrace, somehow you felt as if she could solve all the problems in the universe, as if she was your before and after that could heal and pull you out of this horrible mess you had found yourself in. Your mouth opened several times, but nothing came out. You just didn’t know where to start, how much to tell her, what might be too much, it had been years since you had shared your darkest thoughts with anyone. Looking down at your hands as they rubbed the skin of Lilia’s fingers you saw the ring you had gifted her on her birthday. It wasn’t expensive or exclusive, it was a very simple thing you had found in a small shop with a beautiful deep yellow stone mounted on a thin golden ring. She had never taken it off in all that time, not even once, and as your fingertips brushed over it you made the jump, praying that this was the right thing to do.

-It all stared when I was really young. She wasn’t a good mother; she would always leave me to fend for myself while she went out or to work. The first time was when I was two and it’s a miracle I didn’t die, but I suppose I was a smart kid, and the neighbours knew just how shitty she was and how she behaved, so they helped out. I couldn’t understand why I didn’t have what others did, why my mum didn’t seem to love me. I never had Christmas gifts or birthdays; the party you threw for me was the first one I had ever had. – Lilia could not believe what she was hearing. You had never celebrated your birthday, you had never ever been celebrated in your entire life? She could understand that for herself, she was well past four hundred years old, but you? You were barely in your twenties, you were a baby compared to her, you deserved to have someone show you just how much you meant to them, to party and be happy with useless gifts being given to you and cake and kisses, but she had been the only one to show you? It made sense now why you had looked at her unsure of what you were supposed to do. – I was a confused child that didn’t understand why I was always pushed to a corner and forgotten there. Things only got worse when I began school. They hated me, they didn’t even bother to get to know me before they started insulting me and bullying me. I remember one time, when I was four, how I was sitting on the playground and a boy crossed the whole thing, and it was like maybe fifteen or twenty feet, until he stood before me with a big piece of concrete in his hand and smashed it on the side of my head. I remember seeing partially black with my left eye and just how like in movies, when you see this circle that starts getting smaller and smaller until everything’s black? – you felt Lilia nod her head from where it rested on top of your messy hair, her hands rubbing soothing patterns on your legs. - I got knocked out and I know I was bleeding like a pig, but the school told my mother that it had been just a scratch, and that blood was always just so scandalous, but she didn’t even care. I could have bleed to my death, and she would have been perfectly alright with it. I was always being thrown out of class and the school was always calling her for every little fuck up I did. She was always so pissed when I got home, sometimes she would leave me in the laundry room, locked away so she wouldn’t have to hear me crying when I came home with bruises, trying to find comfort in her. Things never got easier or better.

-You… you said something before, that you were chased? Was that in that same school?

-Yeah, she wouldn’t even consider sending me to a different district, it would have been to much of a hassle for her. It happened… I… This one’s hard, Lilia.

-Take your time, darling, I promise I’m not going anywhere. – you took a deep breath, sensing how the terror you had felt back then was returning. Every time you thought about it, whenever you let the memories plague you and overrun your mind you felt the fear taking over, your grasp on Lilia’s hand harder, nails nearly digging onto her skin.  

-I was like nine, I think. I had just finished lunch, and I was leaving my tray when I saw three boys from my classroom following me outside. I didn’t think anything at first but when I turned left, and they followed I began to get nervous. It wouldn’t have been the first time they had followed me until I started running, leaving me to look like an idiot around the playground but… this time they started running as well. My legs burnt and my heart was beating so fast I thought it was going to explode but I couldn’t stop running, I felt it in my bones that I was going to get hurt, if not killed, if I stopped. I was beyond terrified, running all over school grounds screaming for help, but no one came. They never did. It wasn’t until the bell rang and they rushed to get to class that I could finally stop, kneeling on the hard ground, crying in terror. I truly believed I would go home in a black bag that day, and the worst thing was that I knew my mother would never shed a tear. When I got to class, shaking like a leaf I was reprimanded by the teacher for being late, and when I tried to explain what had happened, she yelled at me for talking back and threw me out. If the teacher didn’t believe me, how was I supposed to tell my mother? But I did anyway, and she laughed. I thought I was going to fucking die and she laughed.

-Oh, Y/N.

-Don’t pity me, please. – you hid your face in her chest, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at her, you just knew she was looking at you as if you were a broken thing, and that coming from her would kill you. Your tears soaked the neckline of her dress, the hand that was still holding onto her gown pulling her closer, making yourself as small as you could in her arms, knees pressed against your chest. - I can’t take it, it’s been two decades, and I still can’t take it, I can’t move on.

-I know, darling, I know. It’s hard when you’ve been on your own for so long.

-I nearly killed myself. I was so ashamed when I failed, thinking that perhaps I deserved all the horrible things that were happening. Everyone just kept telling me that it was my fault, on a loop, over and over and over, and in the end, I believed it. But I was a coward, I couldn’t end it all, I couldn’t go through with it and the only way I found that I could numb the pain was with drugs and alcohol.

-When was the first time you did it?

-The drugs or the alcohol?

-Either of them? Both?

-I had weed first. It was harmless, I felt good but then things would crush around me when I got down, and I hated the feeling, so I started drinking. It was easier, cheaper as well, and I could do it at home, in school, it didn’t matter, I would not remember what had happened and that made feel as if my life was normal, as if there was no abuse, no pain, no broken bones or screams ringing in my ears. I was sixteen when I was able to buy with a fake ID as much bottles as I wanted, and it was also the first time I got so drunk that I passed out on the street until the next morning, when the police took me home. My mother did the performance of her life showing herself as a worried perfect mother, but as soon as the door closed, she beat the shit out of me. I had spent her money, that’s all she fucking said.

-You could have died Y/N.

-Don’t you think I knew? Sometimes I think that I was trying to kill myself this way, so I wouldn’t have to face the shame of actually having to shoot myself or jump out of a window. It was stupid, but I couldn’t stop. Drinks helped move everything along, until they felt passive, as if they weren’t cutting for me anymore so I started with the drugs. Whatever I could do, cocaine, heroin, weed again. I took things that I didn’t even knew the name of, getting so high that the world seemed bearable again, like a walk in the park, but my grades were slipping, and the teachers were beyond cruel, making sure I knew I was failure. So, I tried to get clean when I was eighteen, started saving for college and all that, but the relapses just kept happening, over and over and then mum threw me out. I didn’t have a penny to my name, I almost lost my job, all I had was the drinks and the drugs, so I gave up. I went down the rabbit hole and I couldn’t get out; I didn’t want to get out. She would show up all the fucking time though, it didn’t matter if I changed my number or if I moved apartments, she would call me and find me and every little thing I had improved on she would just destroy it. When I set foot in your shop, I was looking for a reason to overdose again, I was hoping you would say something that would make think that I was done, but you didn’t.

-I could see your pain, I could see that you were lost, I wanted to help you. I wanted to guide you in the right direction, and so did the cards. I could see your kind soul, no matter what you have done.

-You say that now, but I have done things that you wouldn’t like, at all. I tried to steal phones, I tried to steal money, I tried to hurt people to make them feel the same pain they were inflicting on me.

-Didn’t you notice the key word, dear?

-Key word? – had you ever got to tell anyone so much about yourself? You couldn’t recall when it had been the last time someone had actually actively listened to your every word without judging, without telling you that you had been weak. You were unused to this. Lilia was still cradling you in her arms, only releasing you when you turned around to face her, silent tears still falling down your cheeks, but her eyes didn’t look at you with the pity you had expected, there was only love and comfort in those deep chocolate windows from which you could see her soul, her thoughts almost.  

-Tried, which means that you never truly did all those things. You felt like you needed to, but something stopped you. What?

-If I did it, I would have been blamed, found out because it did not matter what was going on, I was always the first one to be blamed for everything. It would not hurt them, it would be slightly inconveniences that they would move on from while I would still be there, getting high to deal with their abuse. I was already suffering, why add more?

-That says something about you.

-That I’m dumb?

-That you are still kind. You saw that that it would only hurt yourself and instead of doing something worse you took a step back to protect yourself, to not add more pain to your life. You still cared enough to not let them turn you into something that you are not.

-But what am I? Who am I? – there was this pressure on your chest, this heaviness in the words you were both speaking that made a lump form on your throat, a brand-new batch of tears clouding your vision, the hot crystal drops burning your skin as they fell, but they didn’t get past your nose before Lilia’s thumbs were wiping them.

-You are Y/N, a kind, gentle woman that loves to sneak into my kitchen and take my cookies when they’ve come out right out of the oven, who loves to walk with me down at the park, who kisses me when my visions get really bad and cuddles me when I’m feeling down. You are the most remarkable person I have ever met, and nothing that those people have ever said it’s true, not a single word.

-How do you know?

-Because in all this time that you’ve been with me, you were clean.

She had looked at you that night as if she had held every answer to questions you hadn’t even thought about, things that would crush you under their truth and you hadn’t been able to move past what she had said to you. When you had entered her shop you had wanted to die more than anything in the world, your life was going nowhere and you had no reason why you should get clean, but she had changed it all when she had taken your hands and sat you down at her little table. Lilia had taken your broken pieces and had started glueing them together, with gold showing from your cracks because you past didn’t define you, but it helped you become the person you were supposed to be. It had shaped you; it had pushed you to the ground and had placed a foot on your throat until the right person had come into your life, someone who with her tender hands had steadied you, had shown you the way and had pulled out from the dark tunnel you had been thrown in. Falling in love with her had been so easy, so right and comfortable and it had happened without either of you noticing. You couldn’t even remember when something that had been nothing had become something until it meant everything.

She had become your world, and this witch that sometimes had this gaps and visions, that loved to have a midnight snack while watching reruns of Murder She Wrote and who held your hand whenever she could, deserved more than the you that had been back then. The first night you had met her you had stayed away from your apartment, sleeping on her couch, wondering the next morning when it had been the last time you had woken up remembering what had happened the night before, thinking that watching her smile as she busied herself with some tea and toasts, that kind smile gracing her lips whenever she looked at you over her shoulder, would be a lovely sight to wake up to. When you had returned home, she had plagued your mind, her words echoing in your brain, but you hadn’t had the strength to let go of all the things you had become so accustomed to. The alcohol remined in your cupboard for three days, and the bags of heroin and cocaine in your nightstand for a week before you built the courage to start afresh. Lilia deserved a person who could enjoy life beside her, who would remember her the next day, who would not go missing for days to get drunk and high under a bridge or in the middle of a park, and it was clear that she wanted that person to be you. It was harder than ever before, the temptation to fall back into it all came from every corner, but you would not give in, you had made up your mind about it, and you would never let Lilia know that you had this problem, you couldn’t risk losing her if she found out about it all. And yet here you two were, back at the beginning and at the same time feeling like you had come so far.

-But I lied to you. I kept all this hidden away and now it has exploded in my face. I’m weak Lilia.

-No, you are not. – her hands took hold of your head gently, forcing you to look at her square in the face, determination written all over her lovely features. – You are the strongest person I’ve ever known, you are a fighter, a survivor. The things you have gone through I cannot imagine them, but the fact that you are still here speaks volumes. I won’t lie to you, knowing that you’ve kept this from me hurts, it makes me think that you didn’t trust me enough, but I understand now why you felt like you couldn’t tell me. You’ve been deceived far too many times, but I promise you, love, never again. You and I will get through this, together.

-I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.

-Don’t apologise, there’s no need. You’ve been apologising for existing your entire life, and it is about time that the world apologised to you. I’m sorry Y/N, for not seeing that your pain was far greater than what I thought. I’m sorry that you didn’t have someone to lean on, to cry to, to find comfort in. I’m sorry that all those adults that were supposed to protect you, failed you and drove you to the edge.

-But you didn’t do it, why are you sorry?

-Because you need to hear it. You need to know that it was never you, it was everybody else. You were a kid, and they didn’t let you be one, and then you were a teenager, and you weren’t allowed that either, but now you are an adult, and you are not alone. You can be whoever you want, and I will be here until the very end.

-I want to be who you deserve. I want to go out on dates with you, I want to watch films and make you laugh and not worry about my mother or anybody else except for you. I want to go out and look at the sky and remember it, I want to feel love and hurt and pain and happiness and not numb it all, because that’s life and I want to experience it to the best of my abilities. I want to recover, Lilia.

-Then we will start by blocking your mother’s number and deleting it. – the phone was perhaps a foot from you, but you could not bring yourself to reach for it, the first doubts already filling your head, but Lilia was there, and she bent her body over the floor to grab it, moving you along with her, unblocking it and tapping on the three dots that showed up on the right, a popup showing the dreading words “Block” and a bin saying “Delete”. Your arms felt like lead as you tried to lift them. You had done this more than twenty times before, why couldn’t you now?! It was frustrating to feel like this. Lilia could see the fight happening through your eyes, only a few silent tears still falling down your cheeks every once in a while, and since you seemed unable to take the step, she made the decision for you, grabbing you hand and placing your index finger hovering over the bright screen, her touch leaving you until it was your own hand alone a few inches from your future. – I can’t do it for you, Y/N, better yet, I won’t. If you really want to recover you must make these decisions of your own free will. And sometimes we need to cut ties so we can cross the bridge.

So you could cross the bridge. Yeah, you had been swaying over a broken-down bridge all your life, and behind you was all the things that you were so desperate to get away from, before you Lilia awaited with a bright light, no, with blue skies and sunlight all around her. The pad of you fingers tapped on the block, accepting the next step before deleting all her calls from your log. A weight had lifted from your chest, and even though you felt a slight sadness you knew that the happiness that you were going to build with your own two hands would be the most rewarding thing you had ever done in your life. Lifting your head you felt your heart leap in your chest at her smile, the way it shone with pride, her eyes glowing with love as she pulled your face closer to hers, her lips pecking yours. Parting, she wrapped her arms around your frame, not bothered by your messy hair or stained clothes.    

-A step in the right direction. I’m so proud of you. Why don’t we go home and enjoy a celebratory dinner? We can clean this up tomorrow.

-Can we… can we stay like this for one more minute?

-We can stay like this all night.