#found this at the local tree farm a few years back

[charlesherbertlightoller]

🎼Fuckin' around the Christmas tree🎶

[perseephoneee]

christmas tree farm (elijah mikaelson x f!reader)

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ happy day 2 of ficmas!

prompt: you like drawing one of the workers at the local Christmas tree farm

a/n: this took so long and i'm so sorry but also this is my dream. like, yes, let me find elijah at a Christmas tree farm. i love him your honor.

↳ masterlist  ↳ ship exchange ↳ join my taglist ↳ ficmas 2023

There’s never a great reason to go to a Christmas tree farm every day, yet you did it without reason.

Well, one reason.

The Mikaelson Tree Farm was only four blocks from your apartment, and initially you went to help your friend, Bonnie, pick out a tree. It was the day after Thanksgiving, but she was excited since it was her first time getting a tree alone. She convinced you with a promised cup of hot cocoa, and you found yourself at the expansive farm. What made it better than others was that an arborist owned it, so they understood the novelty of trees better than anyone.

You had brought your sketchbook along as well. As the quarter was close to ending, you were working hard on your animation final. Not that you were an art major by any means, but you liked to draw as a hobby, and when an opportunity arose to take an art class, you did so happily. Now, though, you had to do a short animation for your final, which meant lots and lots of panels. 

“Do you think this one is too dense?” Bonnie asked, taking careful steps around a Douglas Fir. You peered at it, continuing to shade out its leaves in your journal. 

“Depends on how many ornaments you want to shove in there,” you mumbled, adding a few people to the background of your illustration. 

“I’ve got a good amount that I inherited from Grams,” Bonnie sighed. 

“Then you might want some more space.”

“You’re probably right,” Bonnie looked around, hands on her hips and breath fogging before her. “Plus, this would shed a lot.”

“You’d probably want a Nordmann then,” a smooth voice said from behind you. Both you and Bonnie turned to the source of the voice, and you felt yourself freeze up as you took in the handsome man behind you. He wore a red flannel with a cargo jacket, and you wondered how he wasn’t cold. “Sorry for bothering you. My family owns the farm; I couldn’t help but overhear.”

“So, you know things about trees,” you said, holding your notebook close to your chest. 

“Yes…I know about trees,” he smiled.

“Like the Lorax,” you blurted out, feeling your eyes widen. You could almost hear the look of disappointment on Bonnie’s face. The man chuckled, though, albeit with little confusion. 

“I’m Elijah,” he said, shaking Bonnie’s hand and yours. 

“Nordmann, why would I want that?” Bonnie inquired, pivoting to your previous conversation. 

“Nordmanns don’t shed,” Elijah explained. “They have a blue tone underneath their leaves and are also pretty.”

“Very nice,” Bonnie nudged you, and you sent her a look of approval. “Show me a Nordmann.”

Bonnie ended up choosing a six-foot-tall Nordmann that she affectionately named “Norman the Nordmann.” Elijah and one of his brothers cut the tree down for her and carried it back to her car. Frankly, the level of attraction you felt watching a man carrying a tree over his shoulder was embarrassing, but you didn’t care. You just said thank you in a meek voice and left with Bonnie to decorate her tree. Still, you couldn’t get Elijah out of your mind. 

Plus, as you spent time working on your animation final, you realized that one of your characters started to look more and more like Elijah. 

Which is how you kept ending up at the Christmas tree farm. 

You couldn’t just show up and sit around waiting to see Elijah walk by. That would be incredibly humiliating for you. So, instead, after your third time going to the farm and lurking in the trees like a creeper, you decided to buy a wreath. The farm had a tiny little hut selling wreaths, ornaments, hot cocoa, and more. They even had a photo album full of pictures of their customers from over the years. One of the sisters always sat in the hut, reading a new book each day, and finally pointed out that you always came in but never bought anything, which is how you ended up with a beautiful wreath you hung up in your apartment. Feeling guilty, you came back the next day and bought another wreath. You always bought a wreath and free hot cocoa after you finished sketching the farm (and Elijah). You realized at some point you should probably buy a tree and move on from your infatuation, but that would involve confronting your wiles, which would simply be unacceptable. 

Today was week three, thirteen wreaths later. You curled up in the corner of the farm with your journal, burrowing into your scarf to fight off the chill. You already had several panels drawn of the day in and day out of the farm, but now you were debating tearing yourself away and drawing Freya (your hot cocoa provider and sister who reads inside the wreath hut) through the acts of reading. Something blocked your light though, as you were drawing, and you looked up to see Elijah hovering over you. Your eyes widened. 

“You have come in every day, you realize that?” he asked, hands in his pockets and a slight smirk on his lips. You likely looked like a deer in the headlights. 

“I like trees,” you answered, immediately looking down at your hands as your brain screamed WHAT ARE YOU DOING? 

“Like the Lorax?” Elijah smirked, and you felt your jaw drop as he recalled your first day. 

“I can go,” you said, starting to get up, but Elijah put a hand on your shoulder, stopping you. The heat from his hand spread throughout your arm like fire to a forest. 

“You don’t have to leave,” he dropped his hand, fiddling with the cuffs of his flannel. “I just noticed that you have never gotten a tree.”

“I haven’t.”

“Do you want one?” He gestured towards the plethora of Christmas trees around you, and you started feeling like a mouse cornered by a cat. A very attractive cat. 

“I could…get a tree,” you crossed your arms, hugging yourself. Putting your journal back in your bag, you gave Elijah your name and followed him deeper into the tree line. He showed you several different variants, explaining their pros and cons, but you stopped at a four-foot Noble that was more sparse on one side and slightly crooked. “I like him.”

Elijah looked at the tree you were pointing at and raised an eyebrow as if to ask seriously? You had a small smile as you circled your crooked, kind of terrible, tree. It was imperfect, and it’s why you liked it. Elijah sighed but agreed to give you the tree. He cut it down himself (it was small enough), and you checked out with Freya, who laughed at you finally buying a tree. 

“Where’s your car?” Elijah asked, tree propped up against him. 

“Oh, uh, I don’t have one,” you stammered. You realize you can’t get a tree home without a car. “I walked.”

“You walked,” Elijah said plainly. You were thinking that he probably thought you were an idiot. 

“I live four blocks away.”

“Alright… let's go,” Elijah sighed, hoisting the tree over his shoulder. 

“Uh, excuse me?” You held out your hands to stop him. 

“To take your tree home.”

“I can take my own tree home, thank you very much.” Elijah stared at you with a blank expression. He would’ve made an excellent diplomat if he wasn’t busy cutting down trees. You stared right back, trying your best to assert dominance. His eyes stared into yours deeply, and finally you relented. “Fine, you can take my tree home,” you mumbled, feeling frustrated as a smile broke across his face. 

“Lead the way,” he gestured. You stalk a guy for weeks, and now he’s coming to your apartment with a tree you didn’t intend to buy. You thought that Bonnie would’ve gotten a kick out of this. He follows you out of the lot and onto the street, keeping quiet as he carries the tree with no complaints. You wonder how much he could bench press if he lifted the tree like it was nothing. You got to your building, a little four-story brick apartment, and let him in. Immediately, his eyes were drawn to the plethora of wreaths lining the doors in the hall. “Are these all…?”

“Yes,” you answered quickly. “I’m the building manager, so I gave everyone a wreath.” Elijah still looked surprised but didn’t say anything else as he followed you to your apartment door tucked into the corner of the first floor. You wiggled your lock before slamming your shoulder into the door to open it. “It gets stuck sometimes,” you explained, opening the door further for Elijah to enter. 

With Elijah peering around your place, you suddenly felt very self-conscious. It was a small place. The layout was straightforward. Your front door opened into your small kitchen, with the bathroom to the right. Your living room was just a couch, a TV you got from your aunt, and a coffee table. You didn’t have a dining room, just a tiny breakfast nook you haggled off Facebook Marketplace. Your bedroom was off the living room, just a bed and a desk. The thing that sold you on the apartment, though was the beautiful circular window behind the couch and the fact you got cheap rent in a city as long as you acted as building manager. 

“Where would you like to put your tree?” Elijah inquired. 

“I guess over here is fine,” you walked over to the space between the wall and your couch, currently inhabited by your basket of yarn that you use for knit projects. 

“Do you have a tree stand?” He put the tree down against the wall. You kept your mouth shut as you watched realization flash across his face. “You bought a tree without a tree stand?”

“I didn’t intend to buy a tree,” you defend yourself. Elijah lets out a small sigh of exasperation, fidgeting with the tree so it can lean on its own. 

“I’ll be right back,” Elijah exits before you can say anything. You glare at the tree, internally blaming it for your current predicament. Keeping busy, you started a pot of coffee in your kitchen while you hunted around for something to decorate the tree with. You came back with a basket of crochet stars and some twine. Maybe you could make a garland and then harass Bonnie for some twinkle lights. You know she had them; she covered her entire place in them like it was Tinkerbell’s house. As you were stringing stars onto your twine, you heard a knock on your door before Elijah entered, box in hand. “Alright, I got you a tree stand, and Freya sent me with ornaments.”

“She’s a good egg,” you smiled, helping him with the box as he started fitting the tree into the stand. 

“That she is,” he laughed, sending you a grin that made your stomach perform cartwheels. You laid out the ornaments Freya sent on your counter, smiling at the cute little animals. She even sent along a glitter-covered mushroom. Your coffee machine dinged, and you moved to pour yourself a cup. 

“Do you want coffee? I got vanilla syrup,” you offered, holding up a reindeer mug. 

“That would be lovely, thank you,” Elijah smiled. You made him a small latte, as you enjoyed any chance to perfect your latte art. You went to a Korean cafe once and watched them craft a bear, and since then have forced yourself to learn how to do the same. You added a little heart, and handed the latte to Elijah who looked at it fondly. “You’re very creative.” He looked at the star garland you had discarded from earlier. “Did you make this?”

“Yeah…it’s the only decor I have,” you shrugged, taking a sip of your coffee and enjoying the warmth seeping into your bones. Elijah picked up the garland and started wrapping it around the tree, making sure each branch was evenly spaced and that the stars were visible. 

“Do all customers get you decorating their tree?” you asked, the corner of your mouth lifting up in a smile. 

“Just the ones I like,” Elijah responded, his back still towards you. You felt your cheeks flush at his comment. He was likely just flattering you. He stepped away from the tree when he was done, and your eyes lit up as you took in his careful work. 

“Well, thank you,” you coughed, putting your coffee down on the counter and shuffling on your feet. You expected Elijah to make a move to leave, but he stayed there, staring at you with thoughtful eyes. He really had very kind eyes, the type you felt at ease under. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Elijah’s brows furrowed, his fingers dancing over the buttons of his cuffs as he looked at you inquisitively. You nodded to let him continue. “Why did you come to the farm everyday?”

“Honestly?” you laughed, glancing away. “I liked to draw you.”

“Draw me?”

“Yeah…it’s silly, isn’t it?” you rubbed the back of your neck, your arms wrapping around to curl more into yourself. 

“May I see?”

“See what?”

“The drawings,” Elijah dared a step closer to you. He smelled like the trees he cultivated, rich and earthy. You felt that if someone were to be personified as a rainy forest, he would be that person. You walked over to your bag, nervously pulling out your sketchbook and handing it to him. His fingers brushed yours, but you quickly pulled away. You hated people looking at your work, so you kept yourself busy by cleaning up the kitchen. You could hear the flipping of the pages, and with each turn the coil in your stomach grew tighter. You were so nervous, you felt like you could break at any moment. What if he hated the drawings? You could never recover. When you heard the thud of the book closing, you dared turning towards Elijah and felt your heart clench as you met his gaze. 

“My brother would hate you,” Elijah said, putting your sketchbook carefully on the kitchen counter. “You’re a much better artist than him.”

“Oh,” you responded, some pressure alleviating in your chest. 

“You captured me very kindly,” Elijah smiled, stepping around the kitchen island to get closer to you. You instinctively took a step back. 

“I see you very kindly,” you whispered, your voice soft on his ears. “It was for a class animation, I…hope I didn’t offend you.”

“You couldn’t offend me,” Elijah reassured. “You make me feel appreciated.”

“Are you not?” 

“A family as large as mine,” Elijah sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s easy to lose sight of things.”

“Well, I see you…if that matters,” you said. Your heart was running a race with how fast it was beating. Elijah grabbed your hand, his thumb running over your knuckles like you were a precious artifact. 

“Y/N,” Elijah started, biting his lip in thought. “I’m glad that you kept coming back.” You noticed that his fingers were calloused and rough, likely from all the work of the farm. “I would like to take you out, if that’s alright.”

“Yes,” you answered quickly, earning a smile from the man in front of you. “I would like that a lot.” Elijah tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before glancing back at your sketchbook. 

“May I see the animation, when its done?”

“Of course.”

“Can I give you something?” Elijah questioned, turning back to look at you. You nodded slowly, unsure of what he was thinking. Elijah leaned down, pressing a soft kiss against your lips. His hands came up to cup your head, his fingers brushing through the strands of your hair. He was gentle, but firm, and you found yourself tugging him closer by the front of his shirt. Kissing him felt like first snowfall, or when you learned you had a day off from school. He pulled away, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth and the top of your head. 

“That was a good gift,” you whispered, enjoying the deep chuckle that emanated from Elijah. “Does this mean I can stop buying Christmas wreaths?” That earned an even bigger laugh. 

“You really are an enigma,” Elijah smiled, kissing you again on your lips. 

Oh yes, you guess there is a very good reason to go to a Christmas Tree Farm every day

[dailyreverie]

Christmas tree farm

A/N: After @reallyrallyauthor sent me this wonderful ask of corgi BB being caried around christmas trees (pictured below) I had to run and write this. Title of course comes from the Taylor Swift song with the same name.

Holiday prompts ⛄ 9. Evergreen tree

Pairing: Poe Dameron x reader

Modern!AU, corgi Beebee (kind of set in the same universe of this fall fic)

Word count: 980

Twinkling lights and the smell of fresh pines danced around your eyes on that cold december day. Your nose began to freeze the second you left the warmth of the car, but after looking around and feeling Poe’s hand find yours, you knew it wasn’t going to be that bad. 

Just as it always goes on every road trip, Poe opens the door of the back seat and the usual ball of fur speeds out, snow flying around Beebee’s chubby body as he ran all around the lot packed with christmas trees. “He could at least help us find a tree.” Poe remarked as his arm settled around your shoulders, keeping the warmth close to your bodies.

“The tree he pees on is the one we take home.” Poe scoffed, pushing your hip with his. 

Finding the perfect Christmas tree had become your tradition. The very first weekend of the month you would drive to the same lot, drink the same mulled wine, and begin your search for the perfect tree.

The two of you wandered through the rows of evergreen trees, the crisp winter air tingling your noses and filling your lungs. Beebee ran ahead, leaving a trail of paw prints in the snow, making sure not one tree was left without inspecting it with his nose. 

Poe squeezed your hand, his breath visible in the chilly air. "You know, Beebee might be onto something with his method,"

“Told ya’, the one he pees on…” You chuckled, leaning into him.

“I know we always find the best tree but this time I want it to be special, bigger, fresher.” You looked up at him when he stopped talking, his eyes busy scanning the trees. The twinkling lights above shined warmly against his skin, letting you admire his profile in a silent appreciation, his head clearly going through a thousand thoughts as it always goes, even when it came to choosing a pine tree.

“And why is that?” You asked, even though you knew the answer; and he knew you knew, the way he turned to look at you told you so, with a soft smile and a raised eyebrow.

“Y’know…” All of a sudden he got shy, sliding down his arm from your shoulder to hold your hand instead - your left hand, the one that held the ring he gave you right on your fourth knuckle. Poe toyed with it, his mother’s ring had never looked so beautiful as it looked on you. “Years from now we are going to remember this year as the year. The year we got engaged, when we started the rest of our lives. I want our Christmas to be just as perfect as the rest of the year has been.”

“Of course is going to be perfect.” You stopped, stepping in front of him to hold his face with your gloved hands. “It’s the year we got engaged, after all.” Your twist on his reasoning made him chuckle, his hands pulling you even closer to him by your waist, letting his lips crash against yours. The cold air seemed to fade away, replaced by the warmth of Poe's embrace. As you broke the kiss, you couldn't help but smile at the realization that, with him, every moment felt special.

A distant bark broke you from your haze, and as you turn to find where it was coming from, yuou spotted Beebee standing proudly beside a tree, tail wagging, and a suspicious puddle of liquid right next to the trunk. The tree was gorgeous: tall, full of thick branches, and the most lovely smell coming from it. Poe bent down to ruffle the furry head, laughing. “Looks like we found the tree.” He confirmed. “You were right after all.”

“I’m always right, you should know that by now.” You winked, earning a quick peck from Poe before he disappeared to find someone who could help you pack up the tree.

Not long after it was all set, the tree was on the roof of your car and you had bought a few local snacks for the ride back in the small hut close by. It was there were you spotted Beebee, comfortably curled up in a ball right next to a heater. “No! Come on, Beebs!” Poe encouraged him, patting his leg to lure him out. “It’s time to go.”

“I don’t think he’s coming, love.” From behind his shoulder, you spot Beebee already falling asleep. “He’s cold, the poor guy.” You coo at him, his tail instantly wagging at the baby voice you save only for him. You don’t give it a second thought when you reach under him and carry him in your arms, his fluffy body cozily snuggling against your arms as you begin your walk back to your car.

"Looks like someone has found his cozy spot," Poe chuckled at Beebee's apparent protest against wanting to be back in the cold. “My cozy spot.”

You cradled Beebee in your arms, his fur warm against your gloves, and you couldn't help but share a tender glance with Poe. "Well, he deserves a little break, doesn't he?" As you made your way back to the car, Poe opened the door for you, and you gently placed Beebee on the back seat, ensuring he was comfortable. The small dog curled up, his eyes drooping as he nestled into a makeshift bed of blankets and coats.

Poe trapped you against the door and his body when he closed the door, a playful smile on his face as he kept closing the distance more and more. “You know, I am cold too.”

🎄❄️🚀🎄❄️🚀🎄❄️🚀🎄❄️🚀🎄❄️🚀🎄❄️🚀

“Oh, sweetheart.” You coo at Poe too, who’s eyes lit up a little bit too much alike to Beebee’s. You can’t help but kiss him, soft and sweet, reminding him what he already knows: “You’ll get all the warmth when we get home.” 

"A Christmas we won't forget, isn't it?" Poe chuckled against your lips and kissed you again, deeper this time, wanting to remember that kiss forever.

Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it!

[ot7stan4life]

Renegade Runaway

Sua (Dreamcatcher) x Female Reader

(1 part - completed ✅)

Word Count: 3700

Summary: In one last effort to save humanity, you travel back in time on a mission to stop the woman they call the “Renegade Runaway” from committing a cold blooded murder that sets the world on a course for destruction. Yet, you could’ve never expected to find an angel in that devil’s dress.

Warnings: mentions of violence, abuse, death, and war, positive ending

A/N: gotta give the title its credit-

"All this man has done is lie and cheat and kill,” the harsh words left the woman's lips like venom, poisoning the man beneath her black boot with guilt. Raising her pistol, she positioned the barrel of the gun between his eyes.

Standing there over him, triumphant-looking with her pink hair flowing in the rough wind, she could have easily been mistaken for an angel cast down from the Heavens. Only the red satin dress and burning hatred in her eyes revealed the hidden evil beneath those imaginary wings and glowing halo.

That’s how I’d envisioned my final encounter with the one they called the 'Renegade Runaway' before the world changed forever. Except, that moment didn’t quite go the way I’d planned…

My eventual journey there was long and tedious, starting all the way back to the day I was born. The world was war-torn, the planet exhausted and dying. The human race was on the brink of extinction. One final hope remained in the potential of time travel, one that I quickly decided to dedicate my life to. Though the final mission to prevent the end of times promised nothing for certain—not even a return trip home—I volunteered to see it through without hesitation knowing that my future was not guaranteed had I conceded to the Earth's fate.

The task was simple enough: prevent one murder that had been committed over three-hundred years ago. After centuries of research, it had been determined that this very moment was the one that catalyzed the butterfly effect that would eventually lead to the end of times. Researchers hoped that changing the outcome could potentially prolong the survival of mankind. It was our only promising solution, so we had to try. And my one single chance to test that theory started the first day I met the Renegade.

—

Waking from a deep, dark slumber, I found myself laid out across the grainy desert ground, head resting against the roots of an old tree with a dusty brown cowboy hat placed over my face to shield my pale skin from the ruthless sun rays cast down from above. The dirt and sand crunched under my boots when I finally stood upright and the hot wind whipped through my mid-length hair. Though I had studied this very town in this exact time period, suddenly being stripped from my own time and placed here, I was rather disoriented.

I was always told it never quite felt real. At least not at first.

A nearby whinnying brought my attention to a horse that stood at the ready beside me, anchored to a tree by the lead attached to its harness. It was a beast of an animal, standing a few feet taller than me, showing off its muscular body while shifting its weight from leg to leg. Though I had never seen one in person, I knew them well. The creatures often came up in categories such as farming, transportation, and warfare in my research of the Wild West.

Gathering the lead in my hands, the animal hesitantly let me take my place on its back and followed my commands when I spurred it on towards civilization. It took a moment to get used to riding, but once I felt more comfortable, I coaxed it into a gallop. Dust kicked up with every thud of the horse's hooves, blowing across the never-ending desert floor that blurred with waves of heat in the distance, obscuring the horizon line. The air stung my eyes and tasted like salt, leaving my throat dry and body parched. Even in the short journey to the local square, beads of sweat had accumulated on my forehead from the harsh climate—one that closely resembled the state of the entire planet back in my time.

As I neared the town, square-shaped buildings made of wood faded by the sun eventually came into view, accompanied by the bustle of western folk crossing the empty stretch between shops ahead of me. Just like the history book said, everyone here had a role to play. It was a community that, in a lot of ways, relied upon the efforts of every single individual to thrive. New faces were unusual and those that were born here almost always stayed here. Maybe it wasn't everyone's idea of paradise, but it was the only thing they knew, so they couldn't possibly picture something greater. There was this sense of acceptance, or rather, resignation. Most people gave into it, but a select few stood in resistance. In particular, women who desired more than being at a man's side with no power their whole lives rejected the traditional ways of the Wild West.

I could feel that sense of indignation the moment I stepped foot here. There was a storm brewing in this small western town. A storm started by one they called the Renegade Runaway. One that would catalyze a ripple effect of pain and suffering throughout the coming centuries. But that's why I was here now: to change that seemingly predetermined fate.

Riding up to the local saloon, I got off my horse and tied its lead to a nearby fence.

"Sheriff." My greeting was aimed towards a pale woman with short black hair flowing from underneath her cowboy hat as I stepped onto the wooden porch in front of the local saloon. The sand left boot prints behind me like chalk coating the brown walkway.

The woman I acknowledged was standing just a few feet away, leaning against the front of the building, one leg propped up on the wall behind her as her dusty brown eyes gazed over the desert horizon like a hawk. She wore dark cowboy boots over tan pants held up by a belt with a badge on her left hip and a holster housing a white and golden revolver on her right.

At my greeting, she cast her gaze towards me and used her leather gloved hand to tip the edge of her hat down in recognition. "Howdy." Her lips turned up in a closed smile making her high cheek bones prominent.

I noticed the tight lines framing her smile and the way her cheeks almost indented because of how well defined her face was. There was no doubt in my mind that she was in good shape and, if I weren't here strictly for business, I might've inquired just where she got such perfect genes from or how exactly she managed to acquire her position—being a woman and all.

I was looking for someone specific and as much as I would've loved to ask—I glanced down at her badge—Sheriff Kim for help, this wasn't exactly a matter that I needed local law enforcement to be involved in. In fact, having the Sheriff on my tracks was the very last thing I needed.

So, I ventured inside the saloon without another word to the woman and walked straight to the bar. The one person I figured I could count on to find information in a small old western town was the one who got to hear all the latest news and gossip thanks to her occupation: the bartender.

"What can I getcha?" She said in a low, cool, calm tone when I took a seat on one of the stools. Her voice matched her appearance and—as I would soon find out—her personality. She had on an oversized white shirt with a denim vest and denim jeans. I couldn't see below her waist, but I assumed she was wearing cowboy boots since that's all anyone wore around here. Her long grey hair was twisted up into a single bun on the back of her head with the black ends that looked burnt from a fire sticking out the top and two small strands of her bangs free to hang on either side of her face. She looked intelligent and friendly, but not too friendly. Although, I got the feeling she was trustworthy just from the aura she gave off.

"Just pop, but make it look like a drink." I wasn't one to drink often, but certainly not while on a job.

She didn't hesitate with my request and started pouring it just out of sight of the other guests, making me wonder if many people asked the same.

Folks often did illegal business in saloons, so if you were caught here without a drink someone might assume the same of you. Proud cowboys didn't tend to take a liking to bandits or crooks and, I'd imagine, neither did the Sheriff.

That in mind, I grabbed the glass as soon as the bartender was finished pouring and took a sip before looking around the place discreetly.

It was just before sundown and the bar was starting to fill up with people coming in after finishing their shifts. The usual working men occupied the place, though there seemed a lack of prostitutes lurking for a typical western saloon. It appeared as though the women here held more positions of power than most other cities during this time period–no doubt due to the woman I came to find.

Though, I didn't spot anything that seemed helpful to my case, so I looked back to the thin woman behind the bar. She was already looking back at me, like she knew I wanted to ask her something. I'm sure she was used to strangers coming in here and questioning her, but somehow I got the sense that she didn't seem to mind it.

"You wouldn't happen to know of a gal named Bora, would you?" I asked after taking another sip, assuming these people knew the Renegade by her real name.

Still, I found it hard to gauge the bartender's reaction; she didn't seem to give away her emotions all that easily, an almost disinterested expression permanently etched across her face. Maybe that came with the job, or maybe that really was just a part of her personality. Nonetheless it didn't help me get a sense of who Bora was to these people—or at least to her.

"Bora?" She seemed to ponder, her hands momentarily stopping their job of cleaning a glass while her brain was at work. "I know several Bora's,” she concluded, continuing on with her task as if she had never stopped.

I found it odd that she didn't say more. It made me wonder if she didn't want me to know the answer or if she simply didn't care enough to tell me.

"The Bora I'm looking for is... shall we say... in some trouble,” I added, hoping she would catch on.

Much to my surprise, the bartender cracked a half smile and let out a small chuckle.

"Trouble, huh?" Her head raised and her eyes shifted to the far side of the room. "You must be looking for the Renegade."

I followed her gaze and spotted a woman with light pink hair sitting at a table in the far corner of the room. Looking at her now, I wondered how I missed her before. She seemed to take up the entire room and appear invisible all at the same time. Finally being in her presence was something else entirely; her aura was captivating with a hint of underlying mystery and danger.

Without saying anything further to the bartender, I stood up and began walking over to where the woman was, completely forgetting my drink on the bar top. I thought I heard an amused 'good luck' from the bartender, but I was already so preoccupied with this mysterious woman that I very well could have imagined it.

From what I knew about Bora, she was the definition of trouble. Mumblings of the townsfolk would tell me that she was an outlaw, a rebel, a deserter, 'a devil in an angel's dress.' I knew better than to fully believe such rumors. However, she was dangerous, and because of that, I knew I couldn't count on getting the answers I needed out of her the old-fashioned way. If I wanted anything from her, I'd have to play the game her way.

"You don't by chance happen to be the one they call the Renegade, do you Miss?" I offered gently, hoping I didn't appear to pose a threat. Any wrong decision and I could lose my one chance at salvation for good.

Although, she didn't spare me a glance, grunting out a cold response,

"What do you want?"

I allowed my eyes to take in her appearance, or at least what I could see of it with her back turned to me. I suppose I didn't expect the over-dramatic townsfolk's descriptions of her to be so literal, but, to my surprise, she was wearing a red satin dress. Similar to the Sheriff, she had a holster around her waist that held a silver and wooden pistol. The weapon was all too familiar to me and now I was sure I had the right woman.

"It's less about what I want and more about what you want,” I replied, trying a different approach.

She still didn't look at me, but she turned her head slightly, giving me a view of her side profile.

Maybe the only thing that shocked me more than her attire was her appearance. The single sharp feature on her face was her pointed nose. Other than that, her appearance looked rather soft. All the drawings I had seen of her painted her as a fierce woman with hard features and a striking gaze. Seeing her now, had I not witnessed the outcome of her future actions, I might've questioned how such a small, innocent looking woman was worthy of titles such as 'demon' or 'devil.'

"I don't want anything from you,” she said in a low tone. She didn't necessarily sound rude, but more like she was trying to intimidate me so that I would stop my ploy and leave her alone.

"I could offer some help,” I suggested, taking the seat across from her without permission. No one else in this old bar even dared look at the pink-haired girl, let alone sit near her. But she was no threat to me.

"I don't need your help,” she was quick to respond, still hardly paying me any mind as she took a sip of her whiskey. The honey colored alcohol resembled the thick rays of sunlight shining in through the titled slats in the wooden blinds. The dust made up of sand and smoke seemed to be permanently suspended in the air, making the rays look like bars of pure sunlight that you could just reach out and grab.

"Alright, then I can offer you information," I reworded, fully aware she was a woman who did her own dirty work but still valued any opportunity she could get to have the upper hand against her enemies.

There was a long pause and, after weighing my words, she finally took the chance to look me over.

She cocked an eyebrow, apparently unimpressed. "You aren't from around here, are you?" She told more than asked.

It was obvious she already knew the answer to her own question simply based on how I carried myself, but I had a feeling she was also implying that not many people around here tried to talk to her. They knew better than to bother her.

"You aren't either... or so I've heard," I tried to show her that I wasn't one to scare easily.

"Well then surely you've also heard that I work alone." She sat up straight and raised her glass to her lips before meeting my eyes.

The words almost felt rehearsed, like she had a method to keeping people out.

One side of her lips tilted upwards as she glanced over my features. "And not even a pretty face'll change that." She tilted her head back to take the final swig of whiskey, then slammed the glass down on the table before giving me a wink and getting up to walk out.

Only the image of her receding shadow was visible as she pushed through the saloon doors.

—

In the coming months, the renegade kept her word... for the most part. She was stubborn—which I had quickly gathered after my first encounter with her—and too independent for her own good. She wasn't necessarily reckless, but her solo endeavors often proved far too ambitious. Whether that be pursuing criminals or cowboys or men that just seemed to have too much money and power, she was constantly jumping into situations too dangerous for one woman to handle alone. That's where I came in. She didn't give trust away easily—claiming hers had to be earned—so I gained it by proving my loyalty to her, always coming to her aid when she found herself in trouble.

It took a while for me to get close to her and even longer to finally get her to open up to me. Once she believed my intentions were pure, she slowly unveiled the secrets of the mysterious 'Renegade Runaway,' allowing me to peel back the layers of her heart and eventually get a glimpse at what was inside. Unlike the fables, she was no devil or any other divine being for that matter. It became clear through her vengeful motives that she was purely and entirely human. She was hurting and broken from a painful past—one she would rather forget, yet the same one that drove her actions. In her lifetime she had witnessed the women she loved—friends, sisters, and even her own mother—get cheated, tortured, and murdered by all the powerful men surrounding them.

In her eyes, those that ruled the world were not worthy of it, because all they did was ruin it. She felt it was her duty to strip them of their privileges and bring them suffering as they had done to so many others. As noble an effort it seemed, history tells us that nothing good ever comes from vengeance. Still, she was blinded by the inescapable shadow of loss following her, clung to her figure as a constant reminder, a constant trigger that sent her over the edge.

That's why we found ourselves here now: Bora standing over a man she and I both knew all too well, pistol to his temple with memories of her mother's mangled body underneath his own boot playing on repeat in her mind while I helplessly watched a few steps away. The air grew cold and thick in the abandoned town square we now occupied as the very climax of my mission approached. This was the one murder I had trained my whole life to prevent.

"He doesn't deserve to live,” she seethed in anger. "He murdered my mother and countless other innocents." Her grip on the gun tightened with every word that left her mouth, turning her knuckles white.

"Perhaps you're right,” my voice cut through the brewing storm looming overhead, loud enough to not get lost in the violent gusts of air whipping around our bodies and through the gaps between the buildings surrounding us.

The townsfolk had all run for shelter, frightened either by the imminent threat of catastrophic weather or the violent coup that was now in progress, led by the renegade standing a few feet in front of me.

"But killing him will only make things worse in the long run." I took a tentative step forward, hoping the relationship we had formed over the past month—though still rather unsteady—would be enough to convince her to trust my words.

A flash of lightning struck the horizon, painting the gray sky blue before a boom of thunder punctuated its disappearance.

"How could you possibly know that?" she shouted, now growing impatient.

The wooden and silver weapon shook in her hands, her finger tempting the trigger. Even she didn't understand why she hadn't pulled it yet. It was her master plan, after all. Finally putting an end to all the suffering this man had caused to countless women and their families, including her own. It felt like her only purpose in life. Her destiny. Like it was already written in the stars. So why couldn't she go through with it? And why would she listen to me: a stranger she had met only a month ago? One that seemed to be from another world completely. The kind of person she never thought she'd find herself so attached to. Yet, there she was.

And though she couldn't possibly understand what I meant when I told her I've seen what comes of her actions, she somehow believes. When I said that this one decision will determine the fate of the world, she somehow knows. Because, deep down, she can feel that it has happened before. This exact moment had already played out in some distant reality. One that she had already experienced and would never experience all in the same life. One that always ended in disaster.

But, not this time.

This time, she looks deep into my eyes and finds a sort of empathy and honesty that she has never experienced before. In me, she finds someone who understands the pain and loss she has felt. Beyond that, she finds someone who manages to live with it. To forgive and move on. Someone who stopped trying to end violence with more violence. Someone who has found a better way.

Someone who cares for her.

And it shows her that her life doesn't need to be a constant cycle of death and revenge. That there is hope for a peaceful resolve. And maybe even room for love, not hatred.

The sky cries down in relief as Bora's gun falls with the raindrops, softening the hard dirt ground beneath our feet as they soak into the dying earth. Like the fresh water nourishing the desert floor, the renegade's decision to spare the man gives room for new life to grow and, one day, eventually, to flourish.

Now that a new string has been woven into the fabric of reality, the future is uncertain. This new life might seem daunting to most, but not me. All it promises are new possibilities for a world without hatred, without violence, and without suffering. A world where love and peace are not merely fantasies, but the promised reality.

And it all starts with me and her.

—

A/N: This is an older imagine that I’ve had written, but I hope to start writing new stuff again soon. Also, sorry for not replying to some of the requests/comments you’ve sent me in my inbox. I promise I see them and I will respond to them soon. I just didn’t want to say “I’m working on this” and then take way too long to actually write an update for you.

**This imagine was transferred over from my Wattpad acc OT5Stan4Life**

[cutecowthing]

Greener Pastures

[18+ only; hypnosis/mind control, breast expansion and hucow themes abound. reader is a heifer and not a bull, but I might dabble with more masc-themed stories in the future!]

How long have you been here?

A couple of days? A week? A month? Years, maybe?

Deep down you knew there was something before the farm. Fuzzy hints of memories would pop in occasionally, but they were all of unhappy things. Things that told you that your life outside of the farm was not one you'd want to return to. To live beyond the valley was to live dissatisfied.

Sometimes, in your dreams, you recalled your first day here.

It started out simply enough. You had spent the morning perusing the local farmer's market and right as you were about to leave, you suddenly noticed a cowbell on the ground. The glint of the metal caught your attention and you stopped to pick it up.

There was text engraved onto the shiny surface:

If found, please return to Golden Meadows Ranch.

You thought that was curious. Did cowbells go missing often? However, that didn't stop you from getting back into your car and heading to the address. Why not? It was the right thing to do, after all.

The drive through the countryside was peaceful. The sun was gentle and the breeze whispered through the trees. White clouds drifted lazily across the sky. The calming scenery looked like it came right out of a painting.

After what seemed like a deceptively long drive you finally arrived at the address. At the end of the driveway was a quaint little ranch house. You got up and knocked on the door, cowbell in hand.

The man who answered the door looked at you and smiled. He was ruggedly handsome with brown hair and gray eyes. For a moment you could have sworn he was anticipating your arrival somehow.

"Um," you stammered, offering him the cowbell. "I found this earlier this morning."

"Thank you kindly." He gingerly took it from your hands. "Why don't you come inside? I bet the drive out here took a while."

"Oh, thank you." You said, following him inside. You still had a few other errands to run today, but those could wait. Right now, more than anything, you wanted to stay a little bit longer. The country atmosphere was so, so relaxing.

"What's your name, sunshine?" He asked as he led you into the kitchen.

You told him, and he smiled again as he offered a handshake. "My name's Victor. Want anything to drink?"

"I really do appreciate you bringing that there cowbell back." He told you as he filled up a glass from the tap. "Most people wouldn't have gone out of their way for a stranger."

You wanted to protest but decided against it. Victor was kind enough to allow you into his home, the least you could do is keep him company. You decided to sit down and stay a while.

"Just some water, please."

"I've never seen anything quite like it before." You replied. "...is it common for cowbells to go missing often?"

"Not exactly." He said back, sitting across from you. His eyes were soft, warm and inviting. He handed you the water and you immediately took a drink. "You see, that cowbell is special."

"What do you mean?" You couldn't look away from him if you tried. His gaze pulled you in.

"It's been infused with powerful magic." He explained. His voice was a low, hypnotic drone. "You didn't find it. It found you."

"It did?" Your thoughts were slowing down. Your whole body was starting to tingle.

"That's right." He lightly placed his hand on top of yours. "It sought you out because it knew you wanted a fresh start. And I'm going to give it to you."

As his words slipped their way through your mind, you started to feel an odd sensation. Your shirt was quickly becoming tighter and tighter. It took you a few moments to realize your breasts were growing.

"You will?" You blinked a few times as you hastily lifted your top over your head and tossed it onto the floor, leaving yourself exposed.

"That's right." He said gently, giving you a warm smile. He reached over and tenderly began to draw soft circles around your nipples. "You're going to live on my ranch from now on."

A dopey, lazy smile spread across your face. Your breasts continued to grow. The soft, supple flesh began to spill out onto the kitchen table.

"I think you're going to find that your new life will be much better here." He got up and walked behind you, giving your shoulders a firm massage. "You won't have to worry about a thing."

You closed your eyes and let out a contented sigh. The transformation was continuing at a steady pace. Your breasts continued to grow, and you noticed that you were suddenly sprouting horns, ears and a tail.

You looked at your reflection in the glass of water. Your ears had cute black and white spots-- just like a cow.

You immediately stripped your pants and underwear off to allow everything to finish growing. The warm air in the house felt amazing beyond words. It felt natural, like this was always meant to be.

"You're almost done, sunshine." Victor cooed. He leaned over and gave your ample breasts a squeeze. "You know what happens to good cows, don't you?"

"They... get... milked?" The words came slow. You deliberately had to force them out. The thought excited you, and your tail swished happily.

"Very good!" He gave you another squeeze. "These udders of yours are going to be milked every day from now on."

"Every... day..." You repeated lazily.

He started to poke and prod at your teats, inspecting them with his hands. "Everything seems to have come in quite nicely. You'll make a very good cow. Can you moo for me?"

"Moo!"

Victor began to knead your udders. You could feel the milk sloshing inside, threatening to spill out.

"You've only just started, so you don't have very much." He spoke gently as he tugged at your teats. Small beads were forming on their surface, trickling down onto the table.

The only sound that came out of your mouth in response was a moo.

He let the milk accumulate onto his fingers and brought them up to your lips. "Suck."

Automatically you began to suckle the sweet cream off of his fingers. A deep wave of relaxation washed over you as the final touches of the transformation took effect. You were now a human cow, inside and out.

Victor stepped back to admire his handiwork. "There you go. That wasn't so bad, was it? Stay right there, sunshine. I'll go get a collar to put that cowbell on. Then you'll be ready to go out to the pasture."

[mooseung]

୨୧ winter’s date !

ch. 1 : halloween night

kwak jiseok (gaon)

ᨳ you and jiseok decide to attend all the christmas festivities pretending to be a couple just for the extra butterflies. it ends on new year’s day, then you’ll go back to being good friends.

next chapter ->

❆ no one would believe me if i said ive been working on this fic idea for five years man

❆ sounds like a hallmark movie but i say we keep making christmas romance stories fun silly and dumb

❆ i’ve never committed to chapter stuff before but surely it goes well since i know where it’s going *nodding*

it's the second best holiday of the year. aligned trees now enter the process of stripping their colorful leaves that now hang lifelessly off the branches. fuzzy boots follows the trail of the fallen leaves, and the harmonizing crunches down the street creates the soft melody of sweet autumn.

pumpkin meadows flourish in popularity. the scent of cinnamon and apples wraps a steam blanket around a pie tent. the air is something you've been craving for months now; it’s given you a crisp feeling that brings you warm comfort.

while you adore the time of year for the activities focused on the warm side,

you’ve been able to attend all the fall festivities this year. your carved pumpkin sits outside your apartment, a singular light flickering your creature to life. you ranked all the pies you’ve tried this month, with apple sitting on its throne untouched. funnily enough, you also apple picked at a local farm. the assortment of your favorite fruit piles inside your fridge, their crystal glow enticing you every single time you look at them.

but all these activities you’ve done alone. your autumn checklist was too ambitious, and midterms shifted your availability to avoid your friends’ invitations. that’s why when the very last day of october arrived, your best friend forced you to make an exception for her. the halloween bash she's hosting is not a cozy one, but you have to do something fun and social before marbles start getting lost.

mingi is your only friend from the university, which you think is imperative when it comes to the reputation of this school. social gatherings is a pledged promise of the students; there are always grand events happening around campus, and the committee never finds it in themselves to lose creativity. in turn the students feel more like community, and the friend groups tend to be large. mingi's house party depicts that principle perfectly. even more, not a single person in here is worried about midterms.

as you look through the sweaty piles of people, you find some familiar faces from your fair share of group projects and school events. the few conversations are brief and soon enough you're stuck alone, waiting for your only friend to tend to you while keeping her house afloat with the large crowd.

"hey, you made it!"

she's one of the fairies from tinker bell - one that you can't seem to remember. nonetheless your lips curve wide after she's found you sulking on her couch.

"what a crazy party! do you know all these people?" you think this is the loudest you've been, trying to talk to her over both the music and her adrenaline.

mingi shrugs, plopping herself next to you as her arm wraps around yours. "are you bored? you should be mingling!"

"i feel a bit too embarrassed."

the two of you look over your body. it's a simple green princess gown that doesn't seem to draw immediate attention. however, if you get it...

"WOAH, you're princess fiona! WOAH."

mingi laughs, a little too hard. you playfully shove her as your ears burn up, "it’s too silly, isn’t it..."

her hand grasps your arm as she drags you into the kitchen. for now it's empty, and the table holds all the hard liquor and fruity drinks you could think of. "just drink a bit! loosen up, have fun~"

there's no time to protest. you're left stranded next to the island that holds all the drinks, many of which are unfamiliar to you. it takes you a minute to grab one, just for you to let go of it and stare at the selection as students filter in and out.

"it's a little overwhelming, right?"

the voice feels soft, yet you hear it clearly over the music. when you turn to your left, the girl who spoke matches her voice perfectly. a pouty smile sitting perfectly underneath her brown doe eyes. her hair is a bright hazel that innocently sits as a single braid, tiny strands of hair peering out of the tucked in look. along with her grin, a faded blush bounces on her cheeks; it seems to be from romand rather than any liquor.

she's the cutest, it brings you to match her smile. "ah, it really is."

your eyes continue to observe the woman; you notice the familiar costume she's wearing. it's a green sleeved dress with little gold embellishments. a laugh quickly breathes out of your lips, and she giggles at your quick notice.

"fiona must've been a popular choice this year, huh?"

she laughs at your remark and replies, "you're pulling it off so much better though." you can tell her intentions are to make you feel like the prettiest princess there, and now your own shade of romand blush colors your cheeks. "i'm mingi's cousin, yeona!"

you gasp, "oh, i've heard about you!" you already find yourself in a bow, greeting her formally. "i'm y/n, a friend of mingi's. it's nice to meet you."

she mirrors you completely, and the air finally feels comfortable for the first time since you've walked into this party. you find yourself sitting there, chatting with the girl as the two of you find plenty of common ground. yeona is a violinist attending a prestigious musical arts university just right around the corner of your school. the students tend to be quiet and elegant, and while yeona doesn't really fit the elegance she is soft-spoken like the rest of her peers. but her aura is comforting, and your energies match like puzzle pieces. for instance, she's an avid watcher of kdramas like yourself. it led the two of you to discuss your harsh disappointments among the catalog, your first target being infamous love alarm.

yeona learns much about you too. you attend a social school simply because it's a common one, and perhaps the easiest one to get into. out of all the majors that were presented to you, the winning choice became natural sciences after a coin flip. you haven't quite figured out where you want to be in ten years, and you're content with taking your time. the only thing you want to do is enjoy your time before life becomes a consuming loop of work.

yeona notes that and studies your personality more. you tend to find yourselves on the slice-of-life dramas, and your taste in books are hopeless romantic core. a pattern begins to illustrate itself.

you both find yourselves lounging around the kitchen for quite a while, your conversations being fueled by admiring the many costumes that flutter into the kitchen every now and then. neither of you take another glance at the drinks beside you, and eventually you agree that it's not a priority to drink heavy. you feel like you've found your other half.

after twenty minutes, something interesting happens. a duo of boys arrive, their loud laughs halting your conversation as your eyes peer out of curiosity. both are wearing a garment that you're unable to piece together for a while. but then it hits you; the bulky, round fabric mimics the crisps of the iconic kid's food.

unlike the other visitors, the pair of boys spot you and yeona and engage in conversation.

"oh - you're both princess fiona!"

he's the shorter of the two. his hair is a bright blonde and his cheeks high and defined. yet the look he shoots you guys is pure astonishment and amusement. he's gripping his friend in excitement, a boy who's also bouncing. this boy has darker locks of luscious hair that tuck right behind his ears. his almond eyes sparkle and he equips a wide smile, all 32 teeth shining brighter than those eyes.

and they are dressed up as, "chicken nuggets?"

their surprise grows, "yes! you're the first person to actually get it."

you and yeona gently glance at each other as the two celebrate their victory which only conducted further hops and laughter. when they're finished, they approach the drinks and stare with their arms crossed and their seriousness suddenly skyrocketed. you feel like you're watching a sitcom, wondering how people can be this bubbly and animated in person. but it's funny.

"okay jooyeon. which one of these is our first target? this decision is incredibly important and will impact how the rest of our night goes..."

"...i've never had any of these before. AH, kool-aid though!"

the blonde wiggles his arms, "i was thinking the same thing."

the duet proceeds to grab the jug of fruit punch, one that's meant for mixing alcohol into but instead is poured sober. they take their swigs and scream in unison when done, like drinking nonalcoholic kool-aid was the biggest thrill of their life.

you can't help but laugh out loud, and it gives yeona the courage to talk to them, "isn't it just plain kool-aid?"

the taller one, who you've concluded is jooyeon, grins as he points at yeona. "it tastes better than vodka!"

you're nodding along, "and beer."

yeona loudly agrees with you; a true hater of beer.

"i think beer is yummy." the odd one out frowns, going in to pour himself another shot of the virgin fruit juice.

jooyeon shoves him, "jiseok's actually just a freak."

"you scream at vegetables."

jooyeon suddenly gets loud, "YOU DON'T GET IT!"

the room laughs comfortably. yeona covering his face and you slap your knees, the air is light.

"i'm yeona, mingi's cousin."

you’d feel awkward not to follow yeona’s introduction, "i'm y/n."

the boys have a kind smile at your introductions, and introduce themselves despite knowing you've already used context clues to put a name to their faces.

"how do you guys know mingi?" yeona asks.

jiseok turns to jooyeon who answers, "we used to be group mates for a writing class and we became casual friends." jooyeon then nudges to his friend, "he's just my plus one."

"in the non-romantic way." jiseok adds.

you mention, "trying to distract us from the couple's outfit, huh?"

his hands fly up defensively, "no no, i promise this makes sense."

jooyeon straightens his posture, holding his friend's shoulder as he presents themselves, "we do this podcast called nugget time. it's a bit popular around campus."

"WOAH, i've heard about it actually." you laugh. "it's like we're meeting celebrities right now..."

jiseok wiggles his eyebrows, "do you want our autograph?"

yeona cuts in, "actually, it's popular around mine too! many of the students think it's too childish and immature, but everyone there is also pretty stuck up." she shines a smile as she gives a thumbs up, "personally, i like it a lot. you guys are doing very well!"

it’s a cliche move, but jooyeon feels his heart lighten. a surprise attack of butterflies invade his stomach until his cheeks burn. his eyes fall softly as they stare at the girl who chose not to follow the stale crowd, and instead express her support for his pride and joy. he's in a daze for a minute, lost in discovering her delightful features. "aha, thank you."

jiseok's a lot more normal when he thanks the girl, but he notices how stiff his friend becomes at the compliment. a small grin compliments his face. he internally puts himself in a tuxedo with the coolest pair of sunglasses as he suggests, "do you guys mind if we hang around here with you?"

the coolest wingman.

you can't help but feel proud of yourself for meeting new people, and getting lucky enough they were a funny and kind bunch. your shoulders have inched behind you, relaxed and no longer tense from earlier. your smile creeps up naturally and responses fly out of your mouth easily. it's surprises you when an hour passes of general conversation carried by boiling chemistry and fruit punch.

the house roars, snapping all your attentions to the living room. the probably started off as sober laughs have become drunk wails. aggregation becomes the look of the dance floors as drunk men start to shove one another for who knows why. your ears catch the occasional glass shatters and you briefly wince, "ough, it's getting kinda loud in here."

jooyeon tilts his head, "you're right... should we go outside?"

yeona leans in, nodding to express her interest in the offer.

it's a hassle. your newly formed crew attempts to slither past the sea of sweaty students without getting dragged in by any drunk sharks. jiseok locks his hands on top of jooyeon shoulders, creating their lonely congo line of two. they get further than you and yeona, who are caught by a hungry one.

"y/n! yeona! are you leaving already?"

mingi's cheeks are a dangerous color of red. pale lipstick smudges all over the lid of her red solo cup, and beads of sweat twinkle on of her round nose.

you simply nod, sparing her an apologetic smile. you clear up, "we're just heading outside!"

"okay!" she clears the rest of the liquid in her cup in one quick swig. "i'll come too!"

yeona leans in to her ear, "are you sure? this is your party!"

mingi shakes her head as she pushes the two of you until you're all standing outside, breathing fresh air. "it's too hectic in here; i don't wanna deal with it."

jooyeon and jiseok are walking in place as the duo waited for your arrivals. their bright smiles greet the host who looked them up and down a couple of times before shrugging. jooyeon shouted, "nuggets!" 

"OHH...kay?"

you and yeona snicker, and mingi just rolls her eyes at the reactions. after a while you plop yourself on the grass, relief unable to hide itself once you're finally able to hear the silly voices in your head once again. one being, "aghh, i can't believe you had no candy in there mingi! it's like you wanted me dead or something..."

"well!" she lightly laughes, seating herself right beside you as her arms wrap to embrace you lovingly. "i'm sorry."

"could've gone trick-or treating instead..."

"at the age of 23?"

"your problem?"

yeona cuts in, "you're never too old to go trick-or treating!"

you and yeona hold each other's hand in solidarity. the bit is funny to you two, and she developed a weird craving for candy as soon as you mentioned it.

mingi defeatedly sighs, peering her head to watch her neighborhood streets. they're not totally vacant; a handful of children happily scurry around with buckets or full-sized candy brimming to the top. occasionally their innocent eyes would swipe over mingi's house, one that's overly decorated for the occasion but very much not an open source to candy. you would defend this inference.

"there still might be time...should we go?"

jiseok's suggestion sprouted from watching the groups of kids flutter in happiness with their newly-acquired snacks. he also grasped onto the size, not afraid to admit that mingi seemed to live in a wealthier neighborhood. if an opportunity ever showed itself shiny, this was it. he's also a boy who craves this type of spontaneous activities; a group of college kids politely robbing rich people of their candy just to live up to halloween's truest image.

to be honest, you felt the same way. you wanted to feel your heart flutter at the sound of candy stacking itself into your bag - one that you don't have. "wait, but how will we carry the candy?" 

-

it's an hour later. chocolate, sour, and sweet all ride up to the tip of your red solo cups. you guys only hold two cups per person, but it remains mingi's brightest idea up until the moment the crew realized this neighborhood was indeed not a judgement free zone.

"this mom just stared me down...do you think she wants me?" yeona piques, a smile cracking through her chapped lips. jooyeon, high off excitement, laughs as his body leans against her momentarily.

you're staring at something else though: jiseok's red solo cup. there's a sour patch topping his stack, beautifully beaming like a shiny cherry. after digging through your own, you feel a childish envy crawl all over you skin. "augh, you got a sour patch..."

jiseok doesn't spare a second, scoring the piece of candy right into your hands. your ounce of adulthood flickers back, and you throw it back to him. "oh no, it's okay!"

it hits you back, "no, have it!"

you laugh, guilt building up. "jiseok, don't worry! i can buy my own."

"im going to glue it to your hand."

you launch it to his shoulder in a rough manner, "enjoy it for me~"

as the bickering lives on, everyone lays down on mingi's lawn. candy sprawls out, like how it would on a kitchen table while your mother sniffs for any dangerous pieces. except it's college students, with the security checkpoint half way down their stomachs.

"mingi...right?"

there's a boy standing over the said girl. her eyes, slightly bloodshot, stare at him as if he's a hallucination. she treats it as one too; not a word leaves her lips. the boy uncomfortably shifts at her silence after a couple seconds. his hand reaches for the back of his nape, cooling the heat of embarrassment as all five pairs of eyes watch over him.

"oh, sorry. i uh...came to this party with one of your friends, but im not sure where she went... i was hoping you'd know?"

"who..?" mingi's host voice appears.

"ari."

"ARI'S HERE?"

the boy sheepishly laughs, "i mean...i hope she is."

mingi doesn't listen to him. instead she's attempting to get up, her dress riding up in all the wrong places. her spilled candies dig into the grass as she accidentally steps on them. she quietly murmurs something that nobody is able to decipher. what's heard is the small exchange she performs with the boy, "oh, and who are you?"

"jungsu. ari's my sister."

"ARI HAS A SISTER?"

"n-no, i'm her BROTHER."

the conversation feathers away as the pair dives into the abyss of the house. it will be the last time the group hears of mingi for the rest of the night.

jooyeon's heart quickens as candy plunges into his stomach. yeona watches him quietly for a while. that's when she points, "after this, you'll be having salad for days."

jiseok huffs, "jooyeon wouldn't go in a ten-foot radius of a piece of lettuce!"

the victim nods, turning to yeona with a sense of pride, "you couldn't pay me enough money to eat a salad. sorry." 

yeona nudges him, "you're just not having the yummy ones. i'll show you the good ones and change your mind! just you wait."

jooyeon doubts so, but he can't help but fall helpless to her commitment. he would try anything if it meant he could be around her more. that's why the veggie hater replies to the threat, "i'm open for that, let's do it!"

jiseok stares at his cup that's now lighter. a bright colored wrapper catches his eye, and he smiles to himself. he fixes his position, now sitting at curb of the road as his legs dangle outside his bulky costume.

"y/n, come!"

you crawl until you’re beside him, knees brought close to your chest as you wait. jiseok rips the wrapper down the side, and offers you access to the sour patch candies. "let's share the bag~"

your mouth widens, "wait really? are you okay with that?"

he nods, trying his best to convey his genuine smile just so you'd know. it's enough to get you thanking him over and over again, just until the sour hits your tongue and satisfies that specific craving.

jiseok rolls his eyes, "it's more fun to share stuff, right?"

"it's nice…thank you~"

it's a childish scene, one that brings soft smiles to both of your faces. because it's comfortable, familiar. fun.

[bullet-prooflove]

When I fold, you see the best in me The joker and the queen

Companion piece to One Night

You see the fall coming. It starts the week before Sharon’s anniversary. Vince becomes more subdued, his mood brittle. He cancels plans, ignores your texts, dodges your calls. This time of year it’s hard for him, you understand that more than most.

You give him his space, whatever issues he needs to work out they aren’t with you and you don’t want to put that additional pressure on his shoulders. He has enough to think about with both Bode and Luke.

It’s late when he comes by your office. You’re standing in front of the whiteboard surveying the latest helicopter surveillance images of the forest.

The reason you were selected for this posting was because of your experience shutting down weed farms in the Appalachian Mountains, the strains that were coming out of there were potent, too potent for the kids whose hands they were finding their way into. High levels of THC were causing psychotic breaks in users as young as twelve years old.

Then there was the violence. A family of eight had been found slaughtered across three of their properties, each one containing a ransacked grow. You’d managed to catch the perpetrators as they off loaded the product to local contacts.

You’d been brought in when something similar had started to occur in the local area, there was a spike in high school students suffering from hallucinations and psychological issues. Three hikers had been killed up in Lakeport after they’d stumbled across a farm during a nature walk and there was some sort of Hatfields/McCoys style feud going on between two rival growers that was spilling out all over the place.

Vince stands beside you as you study the board, his fingers reaching for the yellow magnet you’ve placed over one of the images before he guides it a few miles north.

“I was out there earlier today.” He tells you, his fingertip trailing along the river. “If there is a farm it’s more likely to be here, closer to the water source, there’s less trees so more access to sunlight for the grow.”

“Thank you.” You say softly before writing the coordinates on the board with the marker.

“I’m an asshole.” He says abruptly into the space between you and you sigh, gesturing for him to take a seat on the battered couch that you sometimes nap on.

He winces as he lowers himself down onto the sofa, you can see the stiffness in his movements. You’d heard about the structure collapse over in Elmsdale, it had been an all hands on deck situation for the rescue crews. You note the dust in his hair, the streak of dirt still smeared across his cheek and realise he must have come straight here after his shift ended.

His fingers thread through yours, his thumb chasing over the back of your hand.

“I haven’t been fair to you.” He says quietly. “I’ve ignored you, shut you out…”

“I know why you did it Vince.” You say softly. “You forget that I’ve been through the same thing, that I know what it’s like when a birthday or anniversary comes around. Sometimes cutting yourself off is the only way to get through the day, to survive it.”

That’s the thing Vince forgets about you is that you get it, what he’s going through because you’ve been there before. You’d lost a partner back in Tennessee, the man you’d planned to marry. You still kept that ring in a velvet pouch at the back of your underwear drawer.

Jacob may be gone but his memory still lives on inside of you, the same way that Sharon’s still does in him. You will always treasure the time you spent together but that story is over, it’s time to start making new ones. That’s the part that Vince struggles with, the book is closed but sometimes a couple of pages fall out and he has to confront the loss all over again.

“I felt guilty.” He finds himself telling you. “That by being with you I was somehow betraying her.”

He shakes his head as he purses his lips together.

“Sharon wanted me to move on, she wanted me to be happy.” He says gruffly before he tilts his head up to look at you. “You give me so much joy Annie. I wake up with a smile on my face, I sing in the shower, I’m finally living again and that is because of you, your love, your patience.”

His forehead comes to rest upon yours, his thumb ghosting over the apple of your cheek.

“Just don’t give up on me.” He pleads, his voice breaking just a little. “I’m know I’m messy…”

“Vince…” You sooth, your fingertips trailing along the line of his jaw. “I could never give up on you.”

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@keyweegirlie @unknown6669991 @caffeinatedwoman @thebejeweledwatercat @muligatorrr @yousigned-upforthis @zippeylay @humongoussharktyrant @vaneyvfs @@elenkafoxik @@choppedgalaxynerd @lokiwife2021 @@apsolutno-nista @@russiantabby @@hatska-the-dragon @kmc1989

[hailthegodsong]

OUR LOVE IS BORN

Masterlist

Chapter 1 ~ Better Twin

Content Warnings: Fluff, angst, flirting, typical embarrassing teenage stuff, swearing, mentions of car accident, mentions of medical procedures, brief nudity (nothing crazy).

The trees blurred as our car whizzed past, piling down some highway. I wasn't sure. In fact, I had no idea where we were at all, other than the fact that it was somewhere in Michigan.

The trees were different, as well as the bird song and the grass which crept up upon the edges of the tarred road we drove upon.

Even in the heated car I could feel an isolated chill run up my arms, and effectively reaching my now very cold core. A thin layer of dirtied snow lay on the grass beside the long road, and I tried to think back to the last time I had seen snow.

It must have been when I was before 5, some ski trip maybe? I wasn't sure but it definitely was long enough ago that I couldn't remember much about it, and a small spark of excitement grew in me at the thought of seeing snowfall for the first time.

I shuffled further into the corner of my seat in attempt to relieve the uncomfortable dig of one of cardboard boxes shoved beside me in the back seat.

"How much longer, Dad?" I asked, interrupting the music softly blowing through the cars speakers.

"Nearly there Sweets, 'bout five more minutes," He looked at me through the rearview mirror, smiling sincerely but not without an angle of guilt. 

I knew they felt bad about making me leave home, and don't get me wrong, the news that we were leaving for Mums job was not on my Top Ten Best Moments of 2024, but I understood. 

Living prices were shooting and it only made sense for Mum to relocate closer to the project execution which she was formerly managing remotely.

A heavy weight of nerves set in at the thought of pulling up to my new home. My mind rushed with the copious amounts of unpacking I had to do, alongside the draining idea of starting Year 11- or Junior Year, at Frankenmuths' local High School.

Once my surroundings drifted from farms and empty fields into a standard suburban town, I knew we were here.

"Why does everything look German?" I asked, trying to shield the judgement from my voice as I analysed the traditional German architecture. 

Is this seriously where I was going to grow out my remaining teenage years? I could already miss the smell of sea salt in the air, and the heat of a humid wind, cooling the sweat on my skin.

"The town was founded by Germans, or something like that, I'm not really sure. But it definitely adds a bit of interest, hey?" My dad responded, his words laced with false excitement. 

I was sure he didn't want to be here any more than I did, but he had no choice.

After a few more minutes of mundane silence and repetitive buildings, our rental car finally pulled up a short stoned driveway, crunching the gravel beneath until we came to a complete stop. I quickly checked the time on my phone, which read 2:34pm, before unclipping my seatbelt and swinging the car door open.

I was immediately hit with a piercing cold that stung the wetness on my lips. 

Hugging my torso tightly, I rounded the car to wait for my parents to find the keys to our new house.

Stretching my legs after a twenty hour flight and an hour long drive was positively the best feeling I had ever felt in my life. The stiffness ached in my hamstrings but spread a comforting heat throughout my body when I reached down to touch my toes. 

Quickly shaking any remaining stale blood in my arms and legs, I turned and had a look over at my new house.

"Wow guys this place is massive," I gawked. It was double storied and had a long wooden patio out the front.

"Not really Sweets, you're just used to living in a tiny complex all your life," Dad chucked before wrapping his left arm around my shoulder, and his right around Mum before kissing my temple. "Welcome to our new home."

After we loaded all of our boxes out the car, I sorted through the pile to find my things and take them to my room. 

As the U-Haul wasn't arriving until the next morning with our furniture and belongings, we begrudgingly had to stay at a local inn overnight, and I couldn't be any more annoyed. 

I would never let it show because I knew my parents had been through a lot during the move, but the heavy tire in my muscles paired with my inability to sleep on the flight over made me incapable of thinking of anything other than sleep in my own bed.

Dropping my boxes of clutter on the soft white carpet of my new room, I collapsed on my back, arms sprawled out by my sides, as I stared at the plain white ceiling, adorned with a single hanging light.

As I lay there, I thought about my friends, my school, my new school, my hobbies, my running, my music, what if I'm too different? What if I can't adapt to the culture? What if I'm outcast? What if-

"Hi Honey, its getting late, we should starting thinking about leaving for the Inn in about 10, okay?" Mums voice interrupted.

"Mmm," I grunted back, before rolling over and reaching across the plush white carpet for my phone which had been chucked somewhere on the floor not long ago. 

The time on my screen read 5:52 as I swiftly sat up and grabbed my backpack, already full with everything I had needed on the flight including chargers, a water bottle and some headphones.

Hopping down the stairs, I jumped to the kitchen to refill my water bottle with fresh water. The house was silent, and all I could hear were the sounds of the water streaming from the tap, and the hushed voices of my parents. 

I turned off the tap, leaving my water bottle only halfway full and tiptoed towards the wall, effectively hiding me from view but giving me the perfect spot to eavesdrop my parents in the living room.

"I know that its what you want to do, but we have to be considerate of Layla. This is all new to her and I feel terrible for pulling her away from everything she knows. We need to be there for her," I heard my dad say in a feeble attempt to whisper.

"You're right. Maybe we should just put a few things on hold so that we can be there for her. Help her to adjust." Mum said. There was a moment of silence between them as I felt the familiar vice of guilt creep up the back of my spine.

"Okay so are we agreed then, no date nights until we are sure she is comfortable in the house alone, and no work trips at least for the first month, just to make things as familiar as we can." Dad said.

Mum let out a lengthy sigh, "Yeah. Yes. Yes, okay. But that also means no golfing for you. I know you love it and will want to meet the local golfers soon but I can't have you gone for days at a time either. Layla can't have that".

I quickly rounded the corner into the living room to see my parents sitting parallel to each other leant against the wall on the floor. I clapped my hands together and put on a bright smile.

"Alright guy are you both ready to go?" I beamed as they both turned to look at me. 

I knew I couldn't be selfish. I could adapt. I could cope. It really wasn't that big of a deal to move houses, hundreds of people did it everyday and it was pathetic of me to act like it was some big issue. 

From here on out, no matter how hard I was struggling, I pledged to myself that I would keep my issues to myself. Mum and Dad were amazing to me and the least I could do in return was to tolerate a slight inconvenience in my life.

"Yes Sweets let me just grab my bag," Dad smiled back as they both rose from the floor. Mum made her way towards me as we both waited by the front door for Dad to get his things. 

The last lights of the day were shining in through the fogged glass in our front door, and illuminating the living room through the expansive windows too. However, the lack of heating still made me feel uneasy in the new house. I'm sure Mum and Dad would get that sorted out once all of the furniture was in too.

As Dad made his way towards us, bag in tow, the front door sounded 3 polite knocks.

I whipped my head towards my mum who was already reaching for the door handle and swinging it open, revealing a woman around my parents age, wrapped in a thick cream sweater, with a deep red scarf wrapped around her neck.

"Hello! It's lovely to meet you, I'm your neighbour, Karen!" She beamed, opening her arms widely and stepping towards my mum before embracing her in a hug. 

Her voice was soft, yet full as she spoke to my parents, who exchanged 'hellos' and other introductions. I stood awkwardly to the side as the three of them moved in a blur before Karens focus was on me.

"Hi I'm Layla," I spoke politely. She seemed kind and motherly, and as if to confirm my thoughts she wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tight, squeezing before she let me go.

"Its lovely to meet you all. I have 4 kids who might be around your age actually Layla. Are you starting school at Frankenmuth High next week? Maybe you will be in some of my boys classes! Oh how wonderful that would be!" She exclaimed, clapping her hands excitedly.

I laughed a little, "Yeah I am starting Year 11- I mean, um.. junior year next week".

"Oh how wonderful you must be the same age as Josh and Jake then! They can show you around and help you find your bearings," she said sincerely. 

As much as I wanted some help in this new town, I couldn't help but dread the thought of two teenage boys showing me around a town and inevitably making me feel more socially awkward than I already was. Nevertheless, I didn't want my parents to worry. I promised.

"Yeah that would be great!" I said, the same smile still plastered on my face, almost getting painful to maintain. I just wanted to go to sleep. Karens face lit up in surprise as she clearly came to a thought.

"Maybe I could take you guys over to our place now to introduce you all? It wouldn't be a bother truly."

"We really shouldn't..." My dad started.

"I can make you all some supper too! Dinner shouldn't be too much longer from now and I'm sure you’re all starving from your travels," she continued, and as if on cue, my stomach let out a low grumble. 

I felt my cheeks heat up in embarrassment as Karen opened up her mouth to speak again, most likely to coerce us into coming in for dinner.

"We really should get going, we have a booking at an inn tonight, but thank you for your kindness, Karen," Mum interrupted. Karen only furrowed her eyebrows and I got the feeling that her sons never won arguments against her.

"Oh now don't be ridiculous, stay at an inn? How outrageous. You can stay at our house tonight. We have space for you all and I cannot, in good conscious, let our new neighbours stay in an inn on their first night here now, can I?" She questioned with a look of disbelief.

"We don't want to intrude.."

"It would be our pleasure to have you all over, plus, you must tell us about Australia, your accents sound so exotic already I'm sure your stories are even more interesting," she said, spinning on her heel and walking down the front porch steps. 

I turned to Dad who merely shrugged to me and followed Karen down the steps, with Mum and I following closely behind.

With only a short distance of grass to cross to make it to their home, I quickly found myself rushing through their front door as Karen frantically ushered us inside otherwise we'd "catch a cold".

Warm orange lights adorned the living room as we entered the home, with warm wooden furniture and rugs, yet the feature that grabbed my attention was the smell. It smelt like home. My home. In fact, it absolutely reeked of it. 

I took a deep breath in and my eyes fluttered closed for a moment, basking in the smell of warmth with a hint of cinnamon, and despite the warmth surrounding us, the air was fresh and reminded me of the salty spray of the sea at the nearby cliffs.

Though, my comfort was short lived when a dirty sock came flying to the side of my face, followed by very loud, very angsty yelling.

"Fuck of Jake! It's your week not mine!"

"Can't you just do one thing for me Josh oh my GOD!"

Turning, I caught sight of two teenage boys, who looked my age, standing up in each others faces, once of which held a pile of dirty laundry in his arms and the other with his arms frantically waving them around the air.

One of the boys had long, silky, brown hair with subtle waves, while the other, who had his back to me, had a wild nest of curly brown hair.

"Are you serious?! I-" The curly haired boy screamed, charging forward before Karen grabbed the back of his shirt.

"Boys! Stop it right now! We have guests." She muttered the last part through clenched teeth at a volume I assumed we weren't meant to hear. Both boys dropped their arms and their faces went slack as they turned to face us. 

I stood awkwardly in my spot shuffling my feet slightly and offering them a small smile. The long haired boy cleared his voice and dropped his pile of dirty laundry next to the wall before making his way over to us while scratching the back of his neck. 

The curly haired one followed closely behind before filing next to him, wearing a very red and apologetic expression.

"Boys, these are our new neighbours from Australia!" Karen said excitedly, as if the whole previous interaction never happened.

"Hi I'm Jake," the long haired boy said politely, reaching his hand out for me to shake. It was slightly calloused and rough, but his hold was gentle on mine. He sent me a shy tight lipped smile and I offered a similar one back.

"And I'm the better twin, Josh," the curly haired boy beamed, throwing me a wink before wrapping his arms around me in a hug. 

I could hear Jake introducing himself to my parents while I breathed in his very earthy scent. His hold was softer than his mums, but still held that comforting feel. 

All this hugging and warmth and good smelling home made me even more tired than I thought I was.

After all were introduced Jake turned to me, "Sorry I didn't get your name?"

"Oh sorry! I'm Layla, it's lovely to meet you all."

Sitting stiffly in the Kiszkas' living room, I silently watched as the siblings bickered, having been introduced to their sister, Ronnie shortly after I met the twins.

Their conversations were funny, and I couldn't help but crack a small smile or giggle at some of their antics. Soon, the focus of the kids in the living room turned to me, much to my dismay.

"So what part of Australia are you from?" Jake turned to me. I quickly glanced up to my parents who were lost in their own conversation with Karen and the boys dad, Kelly.

Refocusing on the conversation, I nervously tangled my fingers together, "Umm I'm from Sydney.. right by the beach actually."

"Cool! So how hot is it over there?" Ronnie asked from beside me.

"Well it's summer right now so its like, 25 degrees to maybe 37 on a hot day?" I replied. "It can get to around 45 degrees sometimes but thats rare."

All 3 of them looked at me, baffled with their mouths hung open.

"25 degrees in the summer?! Thats freezing are you serious I thought Australia was meant to be really hot or something?" Ronnie exclaimed loudly, her arms waving in the air similarly to her brothers actions earlier.

I quickly realised my mistake and went a bit red in the cheeks at my inability to adapt to this new culture. I looked down at the peeling leather of the couch I was curled up on.

"Oh! Right I'm sorry thats in celsius not farenhieght... I don't really know how hot that is for you guys," I said bashfully, while my nails subconsciously dug into the soft flesh of my palms.

I looked back up from the couch and sawJake smiling at me softly, before Ronnies hand gently held the top of mine and squeezed lightly as she smiled. "Don't worry we'll help you figure it all out."

I looked down to Josh, to find him nervously picking at the carpet beneath his legs, a light pink tint on his cheeks. He looked up to Jake who seemed to already be watching him, and they both gave each other an indescribable look.

Confused and slightly embarrassed at the prospect of them silently judging me, I opened my mouth to break a bit of the silent awkwardness, but was quickly interrupted by Karens bellowing voice.

"Kids! Dinners ready!"

Josh bounced from the floor and took a step towards me before reaching his hand out for me to take, and helping me rise from the couch. His hand was very warm and soft, and I couldn't help but feel a bit colder when he let go quickly once I was standing, rubbing his fingers in his palm shortly after, strange. I followed his back as he made his way to the dining room, Ronnie and Jake close behind me.

"Ronnie go get you brother for dinner" Karen said, as Ronnie huffed in frustration and hopped up the steps, skipping every second one before shouting, "SAM! COME GET DINNER!"

We all found our seats at the table, my parents next to each other on my left, Jake on my right, and Josh directly in front of me. The smell of the feast before us was mouth watering, as I dragged my eyes across the roast chicken, vegetables and some kind of casserole, all piping hot with steam.

Shortly after I was seated, a tall, lanky boy, with similar hair to Jakes but a bit younger bounded down the stairs, smiling sheepishly while scanning his eyes across my parents and lingering slightly on me.

"Hi, I'm Sam it’s nice to meet you all," he said loudly. I wasn't sure if it was my lack of sleep, or maybe my extreme hunger, but the loud noises were starting to pierce my head, egging on a throbbing headache.

Consequently, throughout the whole meal, which was delicious as expected, all I could get my brain to focus on was the idea of sleep, occasionally offering a nod or smile, and the occasional "yep" here and there to ride me through the conversation.

Before I knew it, we were picking up our plates and bringing them to the kitchen to have them all cleaned up.

Reaching for the sponge, I was stopped by the familiar warmth of Josh's hand. He smiled kindly at me when I looked at him, to find his face mere inches from mine.

"Don't worry about dishes I'll do them. Plus, you're our guest. Go, Mom will help get you set up for tonight". Tucking my hair behind my ear and wiping my sweaty palms on the fronts of my jeans I muttered a quiet 'thanks' before wandering off to find Karen.

"Okay honey, you can sleep in Josh's room as his sheets were just cleaned and he'll stay with Jake tonight, and your parents will take the guest room, does that sound alright?" Karen looked at me expectantly.

"I can sleep on the couch, it's no bother really... I don't want to kick anyone out of their room.." I responded, truly feeling guilty. I was always such a burden nowadays.

She scoffed, "Oh nonsense he'll survive. Now, off you go, the room is yours." She shooed me down the hall to the direction of an open door.

Peeking in, I inhaled a stronger version of the familiar smell of home. I took a look around at the dark grey bedsheets, observing a small desk in the corner with papers scattered all over, writing scribbled all around them, like a flurry of thoughts literally spewed onto his table.

I placed my bag down against the wall and wandered over to his shelving unit which caught my eye, adorned with vinyl.

Flicking through many familiar albums, I reached one I knew I had myself, A Space in Time by Ten Years After. I smiled fondly at the memory of me dancing endlessly to the album at home.

"Space in Time, 's a great album...classic," Josh said, startling me enough to make me jump on the spot. I could feel my cheeks heat up as I realised I'd been caught snooping, warming even more when I saw him standing leant against his door frame with a smug smile on his face. He was... very attractive.

"I'm so, so sorry, I..I was just..umm..." I stuttered out while fumbling the record in my hand to slide back into its place. The sound of his laughter filled my ears as he stepped towards me and putting his hand on the side of my arm.

"Don't worry about it, you can listen to any of them if you like, my record player is just over there," he said gesturing to the corner of his room with his record player in it with a nod of his head.

"In fact..." he drawled out, before reaching into his collection and pulling out A Space in Time, slipping it from its casing and sheet before plopping it onto the turntable and delicately placing the needle on its outer rings.

He looked back up at me as the sound of music filled the room, followed by the light cracking of the vinyl. He smiled at me shyly again before wandering over to his chester drawers.

"I'm just grabbing some stuff for the night and then I'll be out of your hair," he said, reaching into his drawers, picking out a cream shirt and some long flannel pyjama bottoms.

He walked past me as I stood awkwardly near the foot of his bed in the room, heading straight for the door before turning to look back at me over his shoulder.

"Feel free to play anything else if you want, I don't mind," he winked, before wandering out the door and closing it gently behind him.

I let out a deep sigh, a breath I didn't really know I was holding. There wasn't a lock on the door, so I decided I would change into my pyjamas in the bathroom, after a much needed warm shower.

I grabbed my fluffy white pyjama pants and a matching singlet, with a deep red sweater and some warm, grey, fluffy socks along with my toiletry bag and padded towards the bathroom.

Once I made my way over, I could see the light peeking through under the door, and could hear the shower running and the sound of someone humming to an unfamiliar tune. I huffed out a frustrated breath. I just wanted to go to sleep.

Sliding my back down the wall beside the bathroom, I sat on the carpet, curling my legs into my body for warmth and waited patiently for whoever was occupying the bathroom to finish.

I briefly contemplated skipping the shower, but I felt absolutely disgusting after the day of travel I had sustained without one.

Sleep deprivation was starting to notably affect me as my mind began to explore unopened memories and the most abstract thoughts I could come up with, until the exhaustion took over completely.

As I sat, I fought the dark temptations of sleep, prying my eyes open to refocus on the carpet I was sitting on, forcing myself to think about the feeling of the cold wall behind me, but to no prevail.

I would catch my head from falling down to nothing a number of times, shaking it furiously and blinking the blurriness out of my eyes to keep myself awake.

Maybe if I closed my eyes for just 5 seconds I could rid some of the tiredness from my head? Yeah that should work. Just a short little reboot. Letting my eyes slip shut, I reluctantly let sleep overtake me, only for a moment. Just one minute. Just...

"No just let her...yes on the floor...shhh you'll wake....just leave her to...yes...yep okay".

Who in the hell? Groaning I rolled over in bed. A few footsteps and whispers further drawing me out of my slumber.

"Shut up oh my god Sam. Look she's- fucking hell she's awake now well done Sammy," the voice, which I now recognised as Josh's, scolded in a whisper. Forcing my eyes open, I breathed in the homey scent. Far out that was such a good sleep.

Sitting up in bed as I rubbed my eyes with the back of my curled hand I peeked up to see Josh and Sam standing awkwardly in the room, looking down at me sheepishly. What were they doing in here?

"What time is it?" I asked, praying for a jet lag-less start to my new life.

Sam and Josh exchanged looks before Josh spoke, "Ahh it doesn't matter, go back to sleep, I know you're tired".

"No..no I'm awake now its fine, what time is it?" I asked again, sitting up fully in bed and pulling the duvet off my body, only to be met with the same jeans I was wearing last night, and my cream quater-zip sweater. Why was I not changed? I thought back to the night before and retraced my steps. Getting my clothes and toiletries, going to the bathroom, sitting outside and waiting, and then.. oh crap.

Heat pooled up in my face as I realised I must have fallen asleep on the floor outside the bathroom.

"Oh my gosh I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep last night, I don't know what came over me I-" I rambled on not looking to either of them in particular, unsure of which one found me on the floor, or if it was either of them in the first place.

Josh cracked a little giggle while Sam smiled down at me, "It's fine, truly," Josh said smiling at me sweetly. I opened my mouth to ask how I had gotten to his bed but Josh beat me to it.

"When I came out of the bathroom, and I saw you..you know, asleep...on the floor," he started, and I covered my face with my hands in embarrassment.

"Ughhh I'm sorry, how do I not remember you waking me up and taking me in here?" I must have been so exhausted.

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, "Oh, no I just carried you in here, slept like a baby the whole time," he said the last part with a smug smirk on his face. An ugly image of me passed out and being carried into this room flashed in my mind, making me cringe.

"Oh that’s… embarrasing. I’m sorry about that. And thanks for.." I gestured with my hand to the bed explaining myself without words.

"It's fine, now stop apologising," He chuckled. "Come on, Mom can make you some lunch," he reached his hand out to help me up. Taking it, I felt the familiar warmth as yesterday, something about his touch that comforted me deeply. With a tinge of pink still warming my face, I glanced at Sam as we walked past to leave Josh's room, who was staring at me with an unreadable expression on his face, but I was certain he was frowning slightly.

Making our way downstairs, I was met with the sight of my parents both cradling a cup of hot coffee, looking very tired and conversing with Karen and Kelly.

"There she is!" Dad exclaimed happily, setting his mug down and standing up. "C'mon Sweets, we have to get to setting the house up, I heard the U-Haul pull up about twenty minutes ago." Mum stood soon after, grabbing her and dads bags.

"Its already 3:30 how are you guys going to move all your things in on time? Josh and Jake won't you both go and help the Kings move their furniture into their new house?" Karen demanded more than asked. Wow, 3:30? I slept in really late.

I looked over to Jake, who I hadn't realised was loitering in the kitchen until now, sporting only a pair of sweatpants and a bare chest. I hurriedly looked away, embarrassed. Far out Layla, get it together.

"Yeah we could do that," Josh said before either of my parents could humbly decline.

Next thing I knew, all the furniture for the house had been lifted haphazardly into the main room, and only needed organising into each room.

A sheen layer of sweat lay on the back of my neck sticking to some stray hairs falling from my messy bun. I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand and began bringing up boxes of things up to my room, followed by Josh and Jake.

Once everything was inside, Jake and Josh had full rights to leave and relax at home, but instead they stayed and offered to help me unpack everything for my room. So, for the next two hours or so, we lugged my bed frame, mattress, wardrobe and vanity all throughout my room before starting on my small boxes of belongings.

I quickly learnt that Jake was a man of few words. Kind and gentle, but reserved and his presence didn’t demand too much attention. I could see girls being attracted to him for sure. Looking good was definitely a bonus, but he easily fell into the dark and mysterious category.

Josh however, was loud and boisterous. Not that I minded, but learning that they were twins was surprising to say the least. His personality was certainly flirty and somewhat overbearing, but it only made him more alluring.

We each assigned ourselves a box to store away to be more time efficient.

"Wow these are great!" Jake exclaimed sorting through my vinyl collection. "Do you have a record player?" He asked and I nodded, searching through several of my the unopened boxes on my floor before pulling it out and removing the bubble wrap around it. I plugged it into the nearest powerpoint and set it onto my vanity.

"Choose one to listen to, I don't mind" I said, sneaking a glance at Josh to see if he caught the reference, seeing him smirking back and me cheekily. Jake put on the Fleet Foxes self titled, and I hummed along to Sun it Rises as I put my shirts and jumpers on coat hangers.

We all organised in silence for a while until Josh spoke up, "Alrighty I think thats all your books put away now, next box please!" He beamed at me as I observed my book collection, neatly stacked away next to my vinyl collection that Jake had sorted through earlier.

"Looks great, thanks Josh," I replied while grabbing a random box and sliding it across the carpet his way. Turning back to what I was doing, I listened as Josh hummed along to Ragged Wood while ripping the cardboard box open.

Suddenly his voice was cut short mid-hum and I saw his movements freeze in the corner of my eye. I glanced up at him, my hair falling over my face and I saw his whole face beam red and he swallowed thickly. He hesitantly pushed the box away with one finger, as if afraid to touch it and looked up at me.

"Could you umm.. grab me another box actually Layla?" He asked quietly. Jakes head perked up out at the nervousness in Josh's voice as I crawled over to the box to see what had him so embarrassed.

Looking down, I was met with my white lacy nickers, surrounded by pinks and reds and blues. The contents of my underwear collection. My face went hot and I'm sure resembled a very similar colour to Josh's.

Jake crawled over curiously and peeked inside before I could slam the folds of the box shut, and broke the embarrassing silence with a loud snort of suppressed laughter before rolling onto his side and letting out a howl of laughter.

I couldn't help but giggle at the sight of him, and soon after, Josh was also laughing. It didn't take long before all three of us were out of breath from laughing so hard, Josh choking on his spit at one point, fuelling out giggles even more.

Josh's hand was on my knee, stabilising himself as he came down from his high, as we all sat, letting the music break any silence apart from our occasional giggles.

"I need to pee," Jake said while climbing up off the floor.

I braced myself to stand too, "Oh do you need me to show you where the bathroom is?" I asked.

"No it's alright I'll find it," he smiled back before walking out the room.

Josh stood from his spot and wandered over to the record player, reaching out to twist the volume nozzle and holding his hand out for me to take, already letting his body wiggle behind him as He Doesn't Know Why played loudly from the speakers.

Once I was stood, Josh twirled me around before grabbing both my hands and holding me out at arms length, singing the music dramatically to me. He acted out each lyric as he pranced around the room with me, twisting and contorting my body with him.

Then, he got down on one knee and grabbed onto the sides of my waist looking up at me and bellowing the lyrics.

"There's nothinggggg I can dooooo," he sung, while shaking my body lightly. I threw my head back in laughter at the sight of him.

"There's nothingggg, I can doooo." His voice was beautiful, as it held a firm husk, but still warmed me deeply.

Then his hands left my hips and he clasped them tightly together as if he was begging, "There's nothinggg I can sayyy". His dramatics were hilarious and I couldn't stop myself from pulling him up and dancing the rest of the song out with him, bellowing the lyrics out alongside him.

Once the song ended, we both collapsed onto the floor, puffed and panting heavily, before Jake walked in with a puzzled look on his face as he wandered over to the record player to turn it down back to a respectable volume.

Looking at us quizzically, he pulled his phone out and frowned, "Josh we have to go back home Mom says we still have yesterdays washing to do." Josh let out a long, dramatic groan as Jake turned to look at me, "It was lovely to meet you Layla, I'm sorry we didn't get through all of your unpacking," he said, with a charming smile on his face.

"No worries thanks for all your help!" I replied. He offered a last smile before turning and walking out my bedroom door.

Josh sighed and turned to look at me, his eyes lingering on mine for a second too long. "Are you free tomorrow?" He asked.

"Umm yeah I just need to buy some school supplies but that’s about it," I answered, already feeling exited with the possibility of spending more time with them. He stared at me again with a small smile creeping up onto his face, the little gap in his two front teeth peeking out between his lips.

"I love your accent," he said suddenly. I laughed nervously.

“Oh, um. Thanks,” I said awkwardly, scratching the back of my neck in embarrassment.

His smile grew impossibly lager as he observed my reaction and he jumped up from his spot, grabbing his phone and house keys, "Don't be embarrassed, I think it sounds.. beautiful, it definitely suits you," he winced at himself as he said the last words, realising what he implied before licking his lips nervously and scratching his head.

I giggled, "Thanks Josh."

He furrowed his eyebrows, as if in deep thought before he smiled and turned around, quickly looking over his shoulder, similarly to last night in his bedroom, "Goodbye Layla, I'll come by tomorrow to pick you up at 12?" He asked. I nodded and he disappeared down the hallway from my room.

He was a strange boy, that was for sure. A bit quirky and a bit weird. But why wasn’t that putting me off? His charismatic persona was drawing me in like a heavy anchor and I was already sinking.

I lay back onto my now made bed, listening to the crackle of the finished vinyl on my vanity, letting my mind recap everything that had happened in the past few days, before finally lulling me to sleep, my last thoughts on Josh.

I awoke to a golden glow bleeding through my thin curtains into my bedroom, effectively lighting up the whole room. Groaning, I rolled onto my side and reached onto my bedside table, blindly fumbling for my phone with my eyes still glued shut. 

After many failed attempts, I huffed in frustration and peeled my eyes open, face still buried in my pillows, only to find my bedside table empty, apart from a lamp that I remembered Jake setting up for me.

Propping myself on my elbows and twisting my head uncomfortably, I spotted my phone across the room on the floor, next to a pile of empty boxes.

"Ugghh," I groaned again, dropping my face back into the pile of pillows below me, and after a few seconds of self pity, I forced myself out of bed and wandered over to my phone.

The time on my lock screen read 9:08, and I suddenly became very aware of the fact that I had skipped dinner last night in my exhausted state.

Wandering down the stairs towards the kitchen, I kept my eyes glued to my phone, scrolling through different social media platforms and checking for any unopened messages. 

There were only a few, a message from my closest friend back home telling me that she missed me, and one from a group chat asking if anyone wanted to hang out.

I didn't usually have a fear of missing out with my friends, and liked to think that I was much more relaxed than that, but I couldn't help the pit of sadness in my belly from dwelling after reading everyones messages, making plans that I wouldn’t ever be a part of. 

It didn't take me much more contemplation to go into the group chat settings before taping the 'Leave Conversation' option.

Soon I found myself at the kitchen island, scooping spoons full of cheerios into my mouth, while scrolling through photos that my friends had posted on instagram only a day after I left. Was I that easy to forget?

"Hi Honey, any plans for today?" Mum asked, strolling into the kitchen and filling the kettle with water before switching it on to boil.

I placed my phone face down on the counter. "I was gonna go to the store to get some stuff for school. Oh, and Josh asked if I wanted to do something around 12," I frowned, wondering what he had planned and now suddenly very conscious of the time I had to get ready.

Mum smirked at me while pouring her instant coffee into her mug of hot water, "Josh, huh?"

I groaned and dropped my head backwards, "Please don't go there Mum its far too early in the morning," I begged. She brought he mug up to her lips and raised her eyebrows at me before walking out, a smug look adoring her features.

I tipped the rest of the milk in my bowl back before walking over to the sink and washing it. I looked out the window in front of the sink while I dried the bowl off, noticing that our kitchen window looked right into the Kiszkas' living room and kitchen.

Walking out of my spot hastily in fear of being seen, I climbed the stairs and checked my phone again, which now read 9:36, before grabbing a change of clothes and a towel to shower.

I had been so busy with travelling and moving in the past day, that I found no spare time to shower, apart from my hallway incident at the Kiszkas' house. 

I felt positively disgusting, the plane air still lingering on my skin, and the sweat from lifting heavy furniture still ghosted the back of my neck. 

After I made my way to the bathroom, I turned on the water and peeled off my clothes, chucking them haphazardly onto the floor while waiting for the stream to warm up. Once a thin layer of steam clouded the air, I stepped under the water and sighed deeply, letting the stream run over my head and down my face, coating my skin and warming me to my bones.

I basked in the refreshing feel of lathering the soapy products through my hair, and over my body, and as if to reverse my lack of shower the past days, I used my most expensive products, exfoliating, cleansing and all the works. 

Lastly, I gave myself an all inclusive shave before twisting the heat off fully and forcing myself to stand under the freezing cold water for at least a minute.

The water shocked my body and caught my breath, while goosebumps erupted across my skin, as I rolled my shoulders to try and loosen up my now very tense muscles.

"Jesus, that's cold," I whispered before turning the water off completely and stepping out of the shower and wrapping my shivering body in my white, fluffy towel. 

After lathering my body in lotion and putting on my underwear, I stepped into my wide legged jeans and a tight, long sleeved crimson top, finishing the outfit with an off-white sweater. I let my damp hair fall back over my shoulders to dry naturally, giving it room to curl on its own.

I walked back down the hallway and into my room before searching through my vinyl collection and choosing George Harrisons, All Things Must Pass. I placed it on my record player and shut my eyes for a moment, letting I'd Have You Anytime fill the silence in the room. 

Wandering over to my vanity, I put on a bit of concealer under my eyes, followed by mascara on my eyelashes before inspecting myself in my body length mirror.

Other than having to adjust the collar of my sweater, I looked good. My jeans gave my legs the illusion that they were longer than they were, and my sweater had enough bag that covered my figure, but complimented my frame just the same.

It was still a while before Josh was coming to pick me up to take me to whatever plans he had for us today, so I grabbed a handbag and filled it with essentials, before slipping on some white adidas sneakers with red accents and wrapping a red scarf around my neck.

I found my parents doing some final decorations in the living room when I approached them, "Hey guys I'm just off to the store to buy some books and stuff for school, I won't be long," I said with a smile.

"Okay be safe, we love you!" Dad replied.

"I love you too," I bellowed as I slipped out the front door and onto the patio. The weather was considerably colder outside and I rubbed my hands together furiously to create some much needed heat.

It wasn't until I had hopped down the steps off the porch, and was standing on the pavement that I realised I had no idea where I was going. I looked up and down each length of the street, contemplating which way to go. I definitely should have thought this out before leaving.

I twisted my handbag round to my front, pulling on its zipper to take out my phone and the route to town on Google Maps. Just to my luck, the zipper was caught on something inside, and would not budge. I took the handbag off my shoulder before pulling the zipper with more force and leverage.

"Come on," I breathed out, pulling the zipper with as much strength as I could muster, my knuckles turning white at the stronghold I had on my bag. Then, as if my luck couldn't get any worse, the pull on the zipper snapped off completely.

Huffing in defeat, I threw the bag back over my shoulder angrily and began to walk down the street, mumbling profanities under my breath in annoyance.

"Hey! Where are you going?"

I whipped my head around at the voice before spotting Josh, who stood on his driveway in khaki pants and a large white jumper, mala beads hanging down across his chest.

"Oh hey, I'm just going to town to buy some things for school," I smiled sheepishly at him as if I had any idea which direction 'town' was in.

He looked at me strangely, "If you keep going that way you'll end up in Mr. Fables wheat field," he chuckled and my face burned red at my incompetence.

"Oh, um, whoops," I laughed dryly, sending him a dismissive smile and making my way past him. "Am I still seeing you at 12 today?" I asked.

He broke out in a one-sided smile, "How about I come with you? To the school shopping stuff I mean. We could just take off from there?" He asked, scratching the side of his forearm, with a nervous look on his face.

"I don't want to be a bother...but..." I droned out while Josh stared at me expectantly.

"But?" He asked.

"...But.. it would help to, you know, have someone there to show me around," my hands found my necklace as I fiddled wth it nervously, twirling it between my thumb and forefinger. A small smile crept onto my face as he beamed at me.

It wasn't long before Josh and I were walking through the town centre, conversation flowing freely and comfortably. 

His giggles were loud and boisterous, much like the ones in my room after finding my box of underwear, and the looks we received from passerbys weren't the kindest. He was very easy to be around, and I felt comfort in his small touches, whether it be a playful shove, or a small touch on my arm.

Once we reached Krogers, Josh lead me towards the stationary isles. We picked out books, pens and other necessities that he said were 'vital for a true Frankenmuth experience', whatever the hell that meant.

"You know, you'll have a lot of work to catch up on when you start... it's the middle of the school year," Josh pointed out, throwing packets of Lays into out shopping cart mindlessly. I groaned, of course I knew this, and it was plaguing my thoughts, weighing me down with stress and pressure.

"I know, I know. I finished Year 11 in December back home, so I should have a bit of background information. But I'm sure the syllabus is totally different over here," I ran my hands through my hair, tucking it behind my ears stressfully.

He studied me for a minute, watching my hands as they ran through my hair again, before I settled hands to my mouth, nibbling on my nails. 

"You can borrow my notes," he offered. "I don't know what electives you chose but you can use mine for whatever we have together, and Jake can give you anything else too." I looked up at him, pride written all over his face.

"I don't know.. I can't just use your work, that's hardly fair," I said, as the familiar vice of guilt warmed the back of my neck.

"Of course you can," he chirped back, before speeding off down the isle, subsequently ending the conversation there. I sucked in a breath and hurried down after him to the self checkout, where he was already scanning through my schoolbooks.

I reached to my bag to grab my card, feeling for the the zipper clasp to take my card out.

"Shit," I breathed under my breath, tugging at the metal contraption with my nails, trying to shove my finger in to open the zip.

"Please Insert Card," the machine demanded, as I frantically pulled at the broken zipper.

The machine beeped.

Whipping my head up I saw Josh quickly putting his card back into his wallet as the machine printed out a receipt.

"What- what are you doing?" I rushed out. He only shrugged at me with a sheepish smile on his face. "That was like $30 worth of stuff Josh! I don't even know how much thats worth in Australian currency. Don't worry, I'll pay you back once I can get my bag open. I just need to get some cash first. My God Josh you didn't need to do that-" I ranted.

Josh placed his hand on my shoulder, "Don't worry about it," he searched my face for a second longer, "Seriously, just...it's okay." He let out a breathy chuckle and turned back to the register.

"Okay, well thank you," I said quietly as he began carelessly scanning through the copious amounts of snacks he bought, while I stood to the side like an idiot, nibbling the side of my cheek.

Once he finished up with his own shopping, we wandered out of the shops, as he pulled out his phone, glancing at the time before sliding it back into his pocket.

"It's nearly twelve, want to come back to mine now?" He asked.

"Yeah sure, I'll just go home to drop this stuff off first," I replied, holding the plastic bag up in front of us. He nodded before delving into an obscure topic of interest, holding the conversation the remainder of the walk home. 

His extroverted and dramatic actions didn't fail to make me laugh, and even pulled an ugly snort out of me occasionally.

Once had made our way back to our houses, we walked past Josh's house to mine, as he insisted on walking me the whole way. I caught sight of Sam and Jake on their porch with a boy I didn't recognise, as all three of them sported acoustic guitars, and were strumming a soft tune. Sam gave me a short wave and Jake offered me a smile.

I ran through my house, quickly throwing the bags from the store on my bedroom floor, next to the boxes which had yet to be organised, before hopping back down the steps to Josh who was sat waiting for me on the porch steps.

Hearing the front door shut, he looked at me over his shoulder before standing and motioning for me to follow him with a nod of his head.

Jake, Sam and the other boy stopped their playing when Josh and I made our way to their porch and walked up the steps.

"Hey Layla. Oh, this is our friend, Danny. He lives on the block over," Sam told me. He smiled at me warmly as I observed his long black curly hair and sharp bone structure. He looked like a Greek God.

"Hi it's nice to meet you, I'm Layla," I said to him.

"Nice to meet you too."

"Alrighty boys, are we ready?" Josh clapped his hands together, walking back down the steps of the porch towards the garage door, Sam, Jake and Danny all following closely behind. I trailed after them curiously, as they pulled up the garage door latch and pushed the heavy metal up halfway, ducking slightly as they entered. 

I stood by the door, suddenly feeling a bit forgotten and wondering if I was allowed to come in.

Sam poked his head out from under the door and smiled at me, "You coming?" He asked.

"Uh yeah sorry," I said, not having to duck nearly as much as the other boys due to my short stature.

Inside stood a shiny, silver drum kit with a bass guitar and electric guitar on either side. In the middle was a microphone on a long metal stand, wires tangled left and right over the floor. 

Jake wandered over to the guitar, crossing Sam who picked up the sea foam green bass guitar on the left side of Danny, who was already climbing onto the seat of his kit.

With everyone concentrated on their instruments, Josh wandered over to me with a smirk on his face, "So, whatcha think?" Biting his lip now, I couldn't take my eyes off him, his skin had a warm glow to it, and I could see the faint outline of a scar on the soft skin of his cheek. 

Up close, I could also see the scatter of hairs above his upper lip, and the wrinkles beside his lips from smiling too much. "Um..Layla?"

"Yeah?" I responded, furrowing my eyebrows.

"I said, what do you think?" He asked again, this time waving his arm around to the instruments behind him.

"Oh! Yeah, this is really cool," I replied quickly, looking around the room again to catch Jake leant over Dannys kit, whispering in his ear before Danny let out a low chuckle.

I could feel the undeniable bond that all these boys had together, and couldn't help but feel displaced from only knowing them all for a day or less and interrupting their peace.

Josh rushed over to a pile of clothes, blankets, wires and other unnamable items and threw them onto the floor, revealing an old tattered couch underneath.

He twirled his hand in the direction, bowing slightly, "Only the best quality for M'Lady."

I giggled before plopping myself on the couch, which I found to be surprisingly bouncy. I curled my knees up to my chest, rested my elbow on the arm of the couch and plopped my face on the heel of my palm.

After a bit of tuning, the boys had set everything up and began choosing which song to play, and it wasn't long before Josh spoke into the microphone, "Ladies and gentlemen," he looked me in the eye as their only member of audience causing me to giggle, "I present to you, Thunderstomp."

Jakes guitar rung out through the room for a moment, isolated in the silence of the room, before the room exploded with sound. Jakes body contorted around the guitar, lost in the music, Dannys mouth hung open in concentration as he swung at his kit, and Sam blinked furiously in time with the music, his feet flicking up behind him as he paced on the spot.

It wasn't long before Josh's voice rang out through the microphone. I was mesmerised by his voice, hitting notes so high that his voice would husk, before lowering, deeper than I had heard him speak.

Awestruck, I sat in awe as the boys finished the song, the last few notes lingering in the air as I gawked like an idiot.

"I- wow," is all I managed to stutter out and all four of them smiled at me.

"We only finished writing it about a week ago, but we've been trying to perfect it for months," Sam said to me.

"Writing?" I asked confused. "You mean you guys wrote that?" My voice raising slightly as I returned from whatever trance I was in.

Jake chuckled, "Yeah, you liked that?"

Blushing at the question, I nodded eagerly. "So do you guys have a name?"

"Yep. Greta Van Fleet" Josh replied, setting down a bottle of water after taking a large swing.

I raised my eyebrows, "Oh thats cool, you guys sound great," I said, trying to mask the nervousness in my voice incase it is taken as ingenuity. With all four pairs of eyes on me, I shuffled uncomfortable in my seat, before scanning the room once more.

"Is that a keyboard?" I asked, perking up slightly.

"Yeah Sammy plays bass and keys. You play?" Danny replied, sounding genuinely interested.

"Yeah, a little. I used to take lessons when I was a kid and I had a piano in my room for a while," I answered, my fingers suddenly aching to press the keys.

"Thats cool, how come you didn't bring it when you moved? I didn't see it in the U-Haul?" Jake questioned.

I stiffened slightly. Now definitely wasn't the time to tell them that I had to sell most of my things because we were struggling so much financially. 

Dad had just been let go from his job, leaving us with one source of income, and to top it off, the medical expenses from my car accident were heavy. 

Luckily I was the only one hurt; Mum and Dad weren't even in the car, but the metal rod placed in my thigh came at a high price. 

The whole healing process was pretty much a joke to me, costing us everything we had, but leaving me with a lingering pain in my thigh, and if inspected closely enough, a slightly lopsided walk from the irked way that it healed. 

"Ahh I don't know, just grew bored of it I guess," I lied.

"Well come up, play us something then," Sam said excitedly.

The boys all enjoyed hearing me play, and even took turns requesting songs like Suite: Judy Blue Eyes, which Sam claimed was from his favourite album.

"I have it on vinyl if you ever wanna borrow it," I offered. His smile grew tenfold, "Fuck yeah that'd be great, thanks," he replied with a light tinge of pink on his cheeks.

We spent the rest of the day messing around on the instruments, Danny trying to teach Jake polyrhythms on the drums, Jake trying to teach me to play simple chords, only for my hand to cramp up in pain, time and time again, and Josh and Sam screeching around the room like lunatics, jumping on the couch and throwing pillows at each other.

Reaching for my phone to check the time, I remembered my bag zipper predicament, "Hey um.. do any of you think you could help me fix this? My zipper broke off and all my stuff is in here." I asked and they all made their way over, snatching my bag from my grasp, discussing silently between themselves before running around the room to get several tools.

Jake ended up using his string cutters to cut a small part of the fabric which was stuck in the zip, and Sam tied a string to the zipper loop to help me open it. Smiling proudly, they handed me back the fixed up bag and resumed their spots at their instruments, messing around with different chord progressions and bickering between themselves.

I pulled my phone out of my bag, comforted to know I didn't have to ruin the whole bag to cut it out, before switching the power button on and seeing 3 missed calls from Mum and 5 missed calls from Dad.

"Shit," I whispered before looking at the time; 6:12pm.

"Whats wrong, is everything okay?" Josh asked. How did I lose track of time so badly?

"Uh yeah sorry my parents are worried about me, I have to head home," I rushed out, gathering my things and checking over my spot to ensure I hadn't forgotten anything.

Josh pulled up the garage door for me, a look of concern painted on his face as I hurried out into the piercing cold. The sun had set, leaving the dusk atmosphere with a dark hue of blue, lingering in the depth of the sky.

"Thanks for everything guys I had a really fun time!" I said looking back and smiling at all four boys, who returned smiles, waves and goodbyes.

"I'll walk you home," Josh said, following me closely as I sped down the pavement.

"You don't have to do that, I'm only like ten steps away," I replied nervously. He only shrugged in response, burying his hands into his coat pockets.

Once I made my way up the front porch step, I searched my bag for my house keys, ripping them out and fumbling with them to find the front door key. My keys from Australia still hung from the keychains as I filtered through them for the right one and made a mental note to take them off when I had the time.

Suddenly, the door swung open to reveal both of my parents standing at the threshold with worried looks on their faces.

"Where have you been?" Dad asked with an unreadable expression painted on his face.

"Is your phone not working? We've been trying to get a hold of you for hours," Mum asked with a tinge of anger in her tone.

"I'm so sorry, the zip on my bag was broken so I couldn't open it and my phone was in there, and I just totally lost track of time, it wont happen again I promise it was a total mistake.." I trailed off as I realised my parents attention wasn't on me, but the short, curly haired boy behind me.

I turned to see him shifting his weight between his legs and shuffling his feet nervously on the floor, "Umm it was nice to see you Mr and Mrs King, I uh, was just walking Layla home."

He smiled awkwardly, "I'm.. gonna go," he muttered before turning to me, "Bye Layla."

After a long lecture about safety and communication with my parents, I stalked off to my bedroom, shutting the door closed gently behind me. I wandered over to my window to pull my curtains shut, bus as I grabbed onto the fabric, I could see the light of a window inside the Kiszkas' house. In fact, the room was directly across from mine, about 5 metres away.

I knew it was Josh’s room by the furniture.

I could see the details of his desk and bed, just as I remembered it, and I scanned my eyes across his vinyl collection, admiring its length, before the back-end of a very naked boy blocked my view.

He was hopping around in his room trying to shimmy on a pair of boxers, one leg bent awkwardly in the air as he stumbled around mindlessly.

Blushing like a maniac, I quickly looked away and ripped the curtains closed. I huffed out a breath before grabbing my own pyjamas to put on, cursing my nosiness and swearing to never change with the curtains open like that idiot.

[mooshkat]

in the woods somewhere

While exploring the woods and playing with the local wildlife, fox shifter TK accidentally stumbles onto werewolf territory and meets Carlos. Despite his efforts to keep his guard up after a disastrous heartbreak in New York, the wolf manages to catch TK's attention and the two slowly begin to trust each other as TK keeps coming back to see him.

What will happen when TK gets caught in a trap while coming to visit Carlos?

not rated | 3.8k words

The forest blurs around TK as he plays chase with the fox he'd found while exploring the woods, leaves and dirt scattering around his paws as he dodges and weaves between the trees.

By the size of the kit, TK guesses that they're not even a year old, old enough to be on their own but still playful and curious. He's going slower than he can run for them, letting them keep up behind him and almost get a few nips at him before taking off again.

TK's so focused on keeping enough distance from the kit that he doesn't notice he's stumbled into werewolf territory until it's too late.

The scent of it hits him all at once and he stumbles to a stop, looking around at his surroundings. The forest has given way to an open field, stretching out in one direction farther than TK can see. There are cows roaming and eating grass, or lounging in the sun, soaking up the heat.

In the other direction, the field ends after a few hundred feet with a wire fence, and a large farmhouse sits on the other side. It looks like something straight out of one of those cheesy Hallmark movies, where the city girl goes home to her hometown and realizes she loves the rugged farm boy more.

There's a man standing on the porch, leaning against the fencing that wraps around it. It's hard to see any defining details on the man from this far, but TK can tell his head is tilted as he watches them.

continue reading on ao3 !

[socalwriterbee]

Oh, Christmas Tree!

Book: Open Heart

Characters: Ethan Ramsey x Tessa Martinez (FMC)

Rating/Warning: Teen/Fluff

Word Count: 982

Summary: Ethan and Tessa's niece (Melody) are on the look out for a Christmas Tree, only to find out that the tree they are looking for his for his home.

A/N: It's been a minute since I've posted on a story on here and a few weeks ago I got this idea from a conversation about a christmas tree farm with @cariantha @txemrn and @peonierose. I hope it this is ok Cari, it got my mind going. I would also like to thank you for the little something I will be adding at the end. I absolutely love it!!

A/N 2: This was quickly edited, sorry for any errors and typos.

A/N 3: My posts will not have any tags, if you happen to stumble upon this story, Thank you for taking the time to read, like and/or share! Hope you enjoy!

Characters belong to our friends at Pixelberry!

Happy Holidays!

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

The sun sat bright in the sky, only giving some warmth to a cold December morning, the smell of pines surrounding them. Ethan found himself in search for the perfect Christmas Tree. Tessa was somewhere else with the rest of her family at a local Christmas Tree farm that was just outside the city limits. The ground crunched under his shoes as he tried to keep up with the little girl in front of him. 

It wouldn’t be hard to lose sight of her they way she was dressed, black pants, shoes that lit up with each step she took paired with a ‘ugly sweater’ as Melody called it and a beanie with a white pom right on top.

Ethan knew if he did not have her in his eye sight she would turn and go off on one of her adventures, where he would call out for her and he would only hear her soft giggles when she hid from him. 

Ethan sighed, he had been bested by Mel more times than he cared to admit. “Have you seen one you like?”

Melody answers him with a simple shake of her head.

What she was looking for Ethan had no clue, they passed trees he would have chosen, full, a nice shape to them, height was perfect for Talia’s family home. 

They were all here when Talia mentioned to Tessa and him about doing this when they went over to her home a couple weeks ago. Tessa’s sister was trying to work around their hospital schedule, Ethan found it quite nice to be included in their family activities and memories. 

He watched Melody stop in front of tree, it stood only a few inches taller than her. Ethan came to a stop next to her, looking down he saw the cold had nipped at her nose making the tip rosy. 

He felt the opposite of a chill when Melody’s warm little hand settled into his. “This one Uncle Ethan.”

The words he wanted to say died on the tip of his tongue but that didn’t stop him from thinking them in his head. The tree in question was quite sad, he tilted his head to the side while he took it in, it was more branches than anything, the needles sparse.

“Mel, are you sure?” He asked, she had to be mistaken the space meant for the Christmas Tree in her family room would swallow this little runt up. “We passed by a lot more bigger ones…”

“But I like this one.”

Alright.

How was Ethan going to sell this one to Tessa and her sister, he saw a smile spread across Melody’s little face and he knew that this little tree was going home with them. He could already hear Tessa, “that little girl has you wrapped around her finger.” 

“I guess we could make room for two trees in the family room.” Ethan said. 

He started pulling out his phone to call Tessa, when Melody’s voice stopped him. “No, Uncle Ethan it’s for you. Auntie Tess said we could decorate a tree for you.”

Ethan tucks his phone back into his coat and drops down to the four year old’s height, sort of he was still a couple inches taller but that didn’t stop her brown eyes from locking with his. “I don’t need one, sweetheart.”

Her little arms wrapped around his neck, Ethan lets out an oomph as he balances the two of them from the force of her hug. “I don’t want you to become a grinch.”

A grinch? Tessa. Ethan shook his head before taking the little girl in his arms, balancing her as he stands them up. “I won’t become a grinch.”

“But you don’t have any Christmas decorations, how will Santa find you to leave presents.”

“Oh.” Santa, right. Ethan tickles Melody, feeling her wiggle and her infectious laugh fill the air, it’s a quick distraction, one he hopes will buy him some time to come up with something. 

When she stopped laughing, Ethan turned them back to the tree in question. “You really like this one?”

Melody nods. 

“There you guys are.” Ethan and Melody turn to see Tessa making her way towards them. “What did you two find?”

“Auntie.” Melody calls out, trying to wiggle out of Ethan’s arms, before she can fall, he places her down and watches her run towards her aunt. 

“Did you find it Ladybug?” Tessa asks.

“Santa is going to like it aaalot.”

“Is he? Show me which one.” 

Ethan watched the interaction between aunt and niece before they made their way to him and the tree he stood in front of. When they reached Ethan, he heard Tessa let out a soft laugh before she turned to him. Tessa was biting her bottom lip to prevent herself from laughing even further. 

Ethan leans down and places a kiss at the corner of Tessa mouth, “This has you written all over it.”

Tessa’s eyes go wide. “Me?”

“You’re the only one who calls me a grinch.” Ethan says wrapping an arms around Tessa and bringing her into him. “And you’ve been trying to get me to decorate, so you enlist a child to do your bidding.”

The two of them look out in front them, Melody skipping around Ethan’s tree singing a Christmas song he doesn’t recognize. 

“Did it work?”

Ethan doesn’t answer her because Tessa already knows the answer. “This is the one Mel.”

Melody stops skipping and singing to only start jumping with excitement. “I did it Auntie Tess.”

“Yes, you did Ladybug.”

“I picked the ugliest tree like you said.”

Tessa slipped out of Ethan’s embrace before he could say anything that Melody could hear. Ethan could only laugh to himself, he had fallen once more to the mischief niece and aunt came up with.

This time it was with a little holiday spirit.

[austin-in-taiwan]

June 27 - Tai Tung  - Rice museum, hotpot, Prehistoric museum, pet pig

Today was our first day back on schedule since the typhoon and our first and last day in Tai Tung. Yesterday, we spent the whole day traveling up to Taipei from Yilan, down from the bullet train to Kaohsiung and then took our bus to Yilan. We traveled more than 270 miles in total and got back late! 

The first thing we did was take the bus to a rice museum. There are tons of excellent-quality rice farms in Taiwan. It was raining all day, so the museum could have been better, but we got to shop at the rice store, look at some exhibits, and check out the view from the top of the building.

Next, we went to get hotpot for lunch. This was different from the hot pot I already had in Taiwan because everyone got their own pot, broth, and meat. It was really delicious. I got the spiciest one on the menu, but it wasn't that spicy at all. 

Then, we drove through the "green tunnel," a road with lush green trees and bushes around and overhead the street. 

Our last stop as a group was the Prehistoric Museum. It has a history of native people of Taiwan and surrounding islands (Somoa, Philippines). It was fascinating, and I really enjoyed learning more about the Aboriginals. Afterward, at the gift shop, I learned about these aboriginal bracelets with different lucky charms according to a local Taiwanese tribe. I got the one for intelligence!

After that, we stopped at a convenience store and ended up at the hotel. A small group of us wanted to eat something other than ramen or sandwiches from 711 again, so we decided to walk down the street and check out restaurants nearby. There was little nearby since we are in a very rural area. However, we did find one restaurant, and it was delicious. I got the fried rice. However, it wasn't the restaurant that made this place really good; it was the pet pig out front (check photos below)!

Academic Reflection

I learned many things throughout my day in rural Taiwan. Firstly, on our way to the rice museum, Peter told the group some interesting facts about the rice culture in Taiwan. Rice is one of the most produced crops here in Taiwan. However, recently, the youth has begun to eat more and more bread and wheat as their source of carbs, which makes Taiwan import more wheat (because they don't produce it here) and takes business away from the rice farmers. As a result, Taiwan is encouraging everyone to eat more rice. This was very interesting. 

I learned the most today at the Prehistoric Museum. To give some context on why this museum was "prehistoric," Taiwan only started to record its history about 400 years ago, So anything 500 years or older is considered "prehistoric." There were so many interesting exhibits from many tribes, but I found a few things the most noteworthy. The first was about the prevalence of Jade. While in Taiwan, I have seen lots of Jade and even bought some myself. Prehistorically, the Aboriginal people found Jade very important and even buried themselves with their jade jewelry and jade weapons/tools. Next, I was interested in learning about how the Yami/Tao had specific rules about the consumption of fish. For example, some fish could only be eaten by men, some couldn't be eaten by women within 2 years of giving birth, etc. 

[byenycfm]

Hannah Kaplan || 37 || #708 || Natalie Portman || Closed

Personality:

She holds onto the moments that leave her with a taste of the girl she used to be; it comes unexpectedly in her laughter, in her daughter’s smile, in the way the sunshine warms her naked skin. Hannah used to be carefree. She used to sneak out to parties and play seven minutes in heaven and drink without wondering what was in her cup. She used to think bad things only happened to bad people. But now in her moments of desperation, when the world feels empty and cold, she reminds herself this: she already died. She died and asked God to send her back to earth to swim in lakes and make challah with her daughter's small hands and smell the wild flowers that fill overgrown fields and fall in love and have her heart broken and make art that carried her hurt and she asked all this with the promise that she would never forget the miracle of being alive.

Biography:

Hannah grew up on 20 acres in the hills of New Hampshire and it will always be home to her; Sitting under the ripening trees in October and biting into a Snow Sweet, the juices dripping onto her sketchbook as she attempts to untangle the chaos inside of her head. Daddy hollerin’ for her to finish her chores, her older sister giving her the stink eye at dinner as Hannah tried to sell a story to their mother about staying at her best friend’s house for the night and no mama she’s not going to meet up with another senior to get groped in the back of his car, she promises! She was always a little spoiled, always treated a little too gently. Her parents never raised their voices no matter how many times she screwed up. Not when they had to pick her up from the station when she got caught driving daddy’s car with a bottle of whiskey or when mama found the pregnancy tests in the trashcan the night after prom. She didn’t really have a reason to leave the nest after high school so she simply.. didn’t. Hannah half-heartedly worked the farm during the day and found her fair share of trouble at night. After a few years with no other prospects on the horizon her parents sat her down and made her commit to something, anything, they’d pay for it if only she’d follow through. After a week of thought she decided to use their offer to go to art school in California with the promise that she’d graduate. 

She painted and drank and sculpted and felt at peace with the world. Every morning she woke with purpose, with a drive to create and put something meaningful into the world. To find a way to show others the love and beauty of God that she saw in all his creations. She went to a lot of parties, met a lot of men and a lot of women and they were all beautiful in their own way. Hannah threw herself into a toxic relationship that left her reeling in the aftermath, missing a semester to stay in an inpatient facility. It was here that she found her purpose, another lost soul watching her sketch with hesitant curiosity. Hannah encouraged the other woman to pick up a pencil herself and give it a try—draw the world how she saw it, in its entire ugly truth. 

Hannah returned to school and got a bachelors of science to pursue art therapy, and juggling the weight of studying and vying for spaces in local galleries left her little time to entwine herself in bad choices. Little, but just enough to get to know a tortured ex catholic that had been drawn to her showcase on religion and self image. The question they both desperately sought an answer for: am I enough for God? 

Hannah and Roman had been good to each other, if only in the beginning. Like many marriages theirs began to feel like a chore. He spent more and more time at work, and even at home he was never fully present. The sadness in his eyes hinting at the weight he was carrying. Maybe she should’ve expected as much when she married a cold case detective. She had to find something to fill the void Roman had created and that came in the form of a secret lover. He was young and attractive and made her feel seen. They’d snuck around together for a few months before Hannah realized she was pregnant, praying praying praying it was Roman’s, and ended the affair. The last thing she expected was to wake in the night 7 months later with her ex boyfriend by her side demanding to know if the kid was his. 

She died that night. It’s a fact, hospital record. Her heart stopped for four and a half long minutes. When she awoke from the induced coma a week later and realized her daughter was not inside her Hannah felt grief that wasn’t entirely quelled by the sight of little june in Roman’s arms. Those moments had been stolen from her, her body felt awkward and wrong. 

It was a hard recovery. Physically, emotionally, spiritually. Her faith wavered and Roman could not provide her the answers she needed. But she knew it was her pulling away from him that began this situation, so she gritted her teeth and went to therapy and let him sleep on the couch so he could be close but not too close. Roman did her a kindness and filled for divorce. She moved back home, her parents taking care of Hannah as much as they took care of June. She couldn’t be someone’s mother right now— she needed to be a girl again, sitting under the big trees and eating apples and sneaking off to skinny dip in the lake. 

It took a few years before she was able to be junes mother and a few more before she was ready to be an adult again. She took June and moved back to California, trying so hard to find a sense of normalcy. She started running art therapy sessions in the county jail, facing what scared her head on. She and June had returned to New Hampshire to celebrate her older sisters engagement when the situation in New York began to develop. 

Things happened so quickly from there. Outbreaks popped up throughout the country as the family attempted to plan their next move. Folks looking for shelter began to show up on the farm and brought trouble with them. Mama was bitten and daddy wouldn’t leave her side. With tears in her eyes Hannah left with her sister and June to her fiancées place in Martha’s Vineyard. They’d been able to ride out another few months there before fleeing survivors forced their way into the island. Her sister died, shot by some scavenger as the group attempted to flea with their neighbors on a boarding ship. 

And now here they are—floating, aimless, out of food and scared and trying to decide if they’d rather drown or starve. 

Pre Outbreak Occupation: Art Therapist Previous Zombie Experience: Her first encounter was watching her mother be attacked, the skin pulled from her neck like rubber as it stretched until it tore. She’s been terrified of them since and has run during subsequent encounters.  Marital Status: Divorced Children: June Drake - 6 Years Old Residence: Loft #708 Years residing at The Wexley: Post Outbreak New Arrival Connections:

Roman Drake - Ex Husband

Harper Jennings - Ex Sister in Law

[disneydelights]

Walt's Museum in his hometown of Marceline is a really fun place to visit. Just like with any Disney Theme Park, you enter and exit through a gift shop. Then as you go around the corner you see a giant Mickey Mouse in a train conductor's uniform. This Mickey is one of 75  that were made for the Mickey's 75th Birthday Celebration at Walt Disney World in Kissimmee, Florida. Then the entire collection toured the country. After the tour was completed they were sold at auction and one of the patron's of the museum bought the All Aboard Mickey and gave it to the Museum where it resides to this day.

The Museum resides in an old train Depot and the Ticket counter is left preserved the way it was when it still operated as a depot. You can stand on the spot where Walt "found the Magic" after getting off the train as a young boy in Marceline. He only spent 5 years there as a boy but it was the key to his success. "To tell the truth, more things of importance happened to me in Marceline than have happened since - or are likely to in the future." Walt  wrote in a letter to the local newspaper in 1938.

The museum is two stories of memorabilia, artifacts and history. There is a 2 hour star studded film about Walt Disney's impact on Marceline and the world as told through the voices of his friends and family. There are models and drawings of many of the elements of all the theme parks, early artwork and conceptual designs, photos, letters and so much more. There are multiple video loops playing throughout the museum with interviews and clips from some of the most  historical moments of Walt Disney's career. And so many of them tie back directly to this tiny little town in rural America. Here are a few pictures of the museum.

While you could spend hours in the museum alone there is more to do in Marceline than just the museum. A couple of blocks away is a US Post office that issued a a stamp honoring Walt Disney. Commemorative stamps are generally issued 10 years after a person has died and it has to be passed by an act of Congress. Believe it or not only two years after Walt Disney's death a unanimous vote in Congress made it possible to issue a commemorative stamp honoring this American legend. Mickey Mouse was on hand and they unveiled it at the post office in Marceline. There's another little gem at the post office too but I don't want to give away everything. You really need to go yourself and see this beautiful homage to turn of the century America and Walt Disney.

The radio station, call letters KDWD 99.1, the movie theater and many other buildings in town were Walt Disney's inspiration for the stores and shops along Main Street in both Disneyland in California and Walt Disney World in Florida. One of those places is a corner shop called Zurchers. It is on the corner of Main Street and Ritchie Avenue. Walt said it was the inspiration for Coke Corner at Disneyland and Casey's at Walt Disney World. A lot of people were unsure why as the architecture appeared to be quite a bit different and it just didn't seem to make sense. But after a fire took place in the back of Zurchers and part of the building was destroyed it became apparent where Mr. Disney got his inspiration. The back wall of the building behind Zurchers had a large Coca-Cola mural painted on the side of the building on the back corner of that block. When it was discovered after the fire they restored the original mural and it looks like this today. 

You can also tour the family farm and see the spot where Walt's Dreaming Tree stood. Then there is the barn which now is a place where you can you pay your respects to Walt Disney yourself. After the barn was restored the workers "autographed" their work and pretty soon visitors were doing the same. Now you really have a hard time finding a spot left to autograph!

This little town in the heartland, that still in so many ways is reminiscent of turn of the 20th Century life in rural America has not simply faded into obscurity as a tourist attraction. It is a vibrant town with wonderful people and thriving on local industry. They also keep up with the times in other ways. While exploring the town you can scan a QR code at many locations and get in Paul Harvey's famous words, "the rest of the story" as it pertains to each location. I did not get to see or do everything in the time I had, but I plan to go back again... and I recommend that you do the same! 

Postscript: Before I forget, Walt Disney loved trains. There are a lot of train related things to see in Marceline. They also have 75 trains a day go by just outside the museum. 

[a-mellowtea]

It's been exactly a year since the day I started my four-month work session in France, and I've finally found an opportunity to go through my site photos.

This was a winter morning in the Somme and, as usual, it was blustery and cold. The sheep had been herded back to the local farm for the season. The clouds rolled on with the ever-present threat of rain. And it was quiet—quieter than it had ever been. That's what made me stop, shy of completing the daily sweep of the grounds. The silence.

During my time there, I didn't like answering certain questions about the sites that I worked at. Invariably, the questions of "what's your favorite part of it all?" would come up; sometimes from curious visitors, sometimes in a round of conversation amongst my colleagues. Every time, I would tell them that I couldn't decide. How can you? It's like asking what the best part of working in a cemetery is to someone who happens to have the job of explaining, every day, that it is a cemetery. That beneath the hills and valleys that were once deep-set trench lines and fields of barbed wire, there are bones. A latticework of the dead, laid amongst the restless churning of the earth for a century since they fell. That the peace of the surrounding countryside exists only on the surface, for inches below the topsoil there are the remnants of men and metal and war, waiting patiently to be exposed to the sun again.

Of course, that's hard to properly explain, and harder still to try and ask people to imagine a hundred years on. It's peaceful and quaint, in the Somme, and photographs and words can't truly impart the desolation that once befell a landscape of blooming flowers and grazing sheep where the traces of shell craters almost look natural. The land healed; patched by time and by the hands of the people who, understandably, didn't want to linger. Even now, in spite of active preservation efforts, the old trenches collapse in on themselves a little more each year. Maybe that's just as well. Maybe, one day, it will properly be time to let it go: to let the deep soil alone bear the physical remnants.

But in that silence, there was something unsettled; something alive. Something that's difficult not to notice, once you have. It clings to your steps, presses a weight onto your shoulders. That day wasn't the first time I had felt it, but it was the morning I was able to put a name to it.

Memory. The echo of a time so long ago that few are still alive who bore witness, but that whispers like the wind in the trees. Ghosts imprinted into the soul of the earth, unshakable and eternal, that spoke louder in the quiet than any amongst the living could ever hope to.

I don't worry so much anymore, if it's impossible to explain, or imagine. If we forget, as the gap between the now and then lengthens. The silence will remember quite a bit longer than us.

[myhauntedsalem]

The Cursed Busby’s Chair

Today this chair can be found on display at the Thirsk Museum in North Yorkshire, England. It hangs on the wall five feet up in order to prevent anyone from sitting on it. Legend states this infamous chair is cursed, if anyone dares sit in it they will shortly meet their death.

This curse began in the 18th century. In 1702, Daniel Awety, a coin-forger bought a farm and named it Danotty Hall in the rural area of Kirby Wiske. His son-in-law, Thomas Busby who partnered him in crime was a thief, drunk and a bully who owned an inn 3 miles from Danotty Hall.

One day, Busby drunk as usual returned to his inn to find his father-in-law sitting in his favorite chair. He demanded Awety to move immediately, but the older man refused. The two men got in a heated argument and Busby kicked his father-in-law out of the inn but not before Awety threatened to take his daughter back with him to his farm.

Later that night, Busby sneaked into Danotty Hall and murdered Awety, he then hid his body in the nearby woods. When it was noticed Awety had disappeared the local police organized a search. Awety’s body was found and Busby was arrested and sentenced to death by hanging.

On the day of his execution, Busby drunk had to be dragged from his favorite chair. As he was led to the gallows, at the crossroads near his inn, he cursed the chair vowing that anyone who dared to sit in it would die a sudden and violent death.

In the years following Busby’s threat, the inn was renamed Busby Stoop Inn. The new owner at first not believing in this curse kept the chair out on the floor for use. As news of the curse spread curious visitors started to flock to the inn.

There were also reports that Thomas Busby haunted the inn. Reliable witnesses announced they had seen Busby’s ghost wandering around the second floor. This drew even more visitors to the Busby Stoop.

A chimney sweep who sat in the chair in the late 1800s was found dead the next morning. He was found hanging from a gatepost near where Busby was executed. This incident sealed people’s belief in this curse.

Friends would often dare friends to sit in the chair, although very few did. The few who were brave enough to take the dare all met untimely ends.

During the Second World War across the road from Busby Stoop an airfield was built that the Royal Canadian Air Force used. These men would often partake of the inn’s ale. Several crewmembers were dared to sit in the Busby chair. Those who took the dare never returned home from bombing sorties over Germany.

One previous owner tells how two airmen dared each other to sit in the chair. Both sat in the chair and later that day their car hit a tree and both men died.

A group of builders having lunch at the inn dared a young worker to sit in the chair. This young man obliged and after returning to the building site he fell through a roof and died. After this death the landlord locked the chair away in the cellar.

In 1978, a deliveryman sat in the chair in the cellar. He told the landlord it was a very comfortable. He suggested that such a fine chair should not be locked away in a damp cellar. Within hours after this, his truck veered off the road and crashed killing him.

There are many more stories connected to this cursed chair. An Air Force pilot was killed the day after sitting in the chair. A motorcyclist died on his bike shortly after leaving the inn. A hitchhiker was knocked down and killed two days after visiting the inn. A local man in his early thirties died of a massive heart attack the night after he sat in this chair.

At a recent innkeeper’s request the Busby chair has been moved out of harm’s way. The chair had been in this inn for over 275 years. It is the most popular piece on display at the Thirsk Museum. Visitors still ask if they can sit in the chair but it is never taken down off the wall.

[ahedderick]

Being Frank

   In 2016 a local man (Frank) roughly my father’s age called me and asked me to transcribe his oral history project. It was quite out-of-the-blue . . I’d known him all my life but we weren’t close at all. I ended up sitting in his kitchen with a laptop, typing frantically (and badly) for several hours while he recounted various tales from the 40s to the 60s and threw little crunchy treat across the room for his cat to pounce on. His biggest concern was the story of how he built his house. It meant a lot to him. Why none of his three children were doing this project I don’t know, they probably have troubles of their own.

I think it deserves a bit of a wider audience, tho. He started off a little rambly, but I’ll begin with this:

“The next project was after Hurricane Hazel. That took out some big timber over on the base of Wills Mountain. We decided to cut up those trees to build the barn up on the hill. That was my first real experience. My last two years in high school I was working for a bakery and I saved up enough to buy a Pioneer chainsaw, 1964. That saw is heavy! We took those logs out of the woods with horses, jumping out of the way when they rolled and trying to keep the horses moving; we didn’t know any better. That was the way we did things, then. Then we cut the center poles for that barn out of locust; that’s why it’s still standing, probably. We put those up and I was standing up on top working that chainsaw, cutting the notches for the other beams. Paul D. wanted to buy this lot where the house sits so he could build. I told my father that I wanted to build there, and that was when I first revealed that to my parents. I was twenty then. Eventually they deeded three acres to me as a gift. It was an unused piece at the time because it had grown extremely dense with wild crabapple and thorn bushes. I was so thick I had to crawl on hands on knees in and cut them. I dragged them out with three meat hooks ganged up and hooked to a log chain. That made a drag, and I pulled them down with the Oliver Klee tractor to a burn pile in the bottom. There were locust trees in here two feet or even thirty inches across, about four of them. I cut them down and pulled them away and then I had the stumps to contend with. Mallow Landscaping was coming to dig the foundation and his machine wasn’t real big because he was just starting out. So, to aid removal of the locust stumps, I went up on the Mt. Savage road near Wellersburg road goes north and bought dynamite. This guy sold dynamite out of the candy case, you just went in and put your money down! I bought dynamite* from a blind man. I came out and I was blowing the stumps. One was right here where the patio is. My uncle stopped to chat with me, and I told him “You’d better move on down because I have a charge going off!”

   Mr. Mallow came and started digging the foundation. He had a hard time, there were some bad spots. The machine was too small. I paid him for what he’d done and called an old family friend, William, who worked for Failinger. He came out with a big trackloader and finished out, did the landscaping and driveways. We found a few rocks while we were digging out! On the back portion we hit solid ledges of limestone. I needed a jackhammer. The cemetery of St. Peter and Paul’s had a jackhammer; the priest allowed me to use it, and that’s how I finished the back portion.

  After that we poured the footer. I staked it, leveled it, tried to square it . . . I’d never done this before. I poured it and Herm and old George that worked down at the farm helped me. At that time I was going to ACC and carrying 18 [credit] hours, but not married yet, so I had the time. It was like a hobby. The block I got from Mr. Athey, who hauled coal east and hauled block back from Hagerstown. It was twelve cents a block. Paul agreed to lay the foundation for me if I mixed the mud and carried it to him, again for twelve cents a block. The block laying started in the spring; we set a date back in March for a start time of the first of June. It had to be on a weekend. Everything was ready. Got down to June and we were going to start at noon. My graduation from community college was at ten that morning. I was the first male in our family to receive a college degree. A classmate of mine asked me, “Where are we going to have a party?” I had to turn down the party, kick off my shirt and tie and start mixing mud. I was thinking about the party while I was in the hot sun, mixing the mud and just a sweating away!”

I’ll post the rest tomorrow.

* ok, but this was 100% IN CHARACTER for Frank, just sayin’.