#*shoos plot bunny*

[vampire-lord-garfield]

Found an old fic wip. Where there's some kind of big reception at the Phantomhive estate (maybe for Christmas, maybe because they were trying to lure out a suspect. Idk, past me was sure I'll remember).

And in the middle of it for supernatural reasons Sebastian is slowly loosing grasp on his human disguise. It starts standart with eyeglow and sharp teeth. Then progresses to extra eyes on his face or neck. Then it starts getting freaky (aka extra limbs, gaping snake like maw etc). He is also has this flashes of not quiet being in control of himself mentally. So after each episode he will will any changes away but it slowly gets more and more out of hand.

Which is not good, considering the whole manor is pact full of very important and very mortal people.

The bastard is too prideful to show that anything is wrong to Ciel (but also it's not like he can shoo the whole party away. That would greatly damage the earl's reputation. So what's the point?) . You know who notices? Servants that are right there and can see the whole thing even if he is doing his best to hide it. They already kinda know that he isn't a normal human. So Baldroy just goes:

"yeah, that's weird. But we are working with human snake hybrid and child human experiment. We figured that the immortal twink that never talks about his past is freaky too"

And then they all work together in insuring that the event goes smoothly. Why keeping seb from the public and trying to keep him in check.

Idk. Maybe I'll be brave and finish it. Or maybe this plot bunny wip is entertaining solely to me and me alone.

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

I love the whole premise of this. Also poor Fingolfin. I shall light a candle for him.

who's gonna write the melian/indis/thingol fic of my dreams?

[superluver]

Dingy Camera G.S.

6.2k words | cw: Angst, Gore, Character death, MAJOR JJK MANGA SPOILERS, S2 Spoilers, (No)happy ending/ slight comfort, Follows the Events of Gojo's Past arc+un-canon events at ending for the plot, MAJOR mental health warning, FEM READER

THIS STORY DOES NOT CONTAIN PEDOPHILIA

Gojo is very pushy

Description: Gojo was in love with you—his Highschool teacher and the strongest sorcerer of your time— who had known him since he was young. You don't see him in that light, but he is stubborn, even as a highschool student. You are watching your students grow up, becoming stronger with each passing second. And after the failed Star-Plasma Vessel trip, you set out on a man-hunt for your father, who is harboring a new woman's body as his own...

☆*:.｡. Starting here .｡.:*☆

It's dark in the apartment, well.. condo— he is a rich man after all— yet, he can see it all.

He remembers his way around the place, has for many years. He doesn’t even need his six eyes to know where he stands.

He just knows.

When he bought the condo, he purchased the furniture along with it, to keep that memory alive. It was all he had left. Sometimes he wonders if she were alive, how strange it would be, if the Zenin, Gojo, and Kamo clan’s prized possessions all sat at a dinner table, chatting about their days in peace.

He finds himself standing at the table, near the door, with a photograph. A much older woman, patting his and Suguru’s head aggressively, her chin laying on Shoko’s. Her grin was broad, a cigarette peeking out from the corner of her mouth. He and Suguru had an annoyed expression, hence the blurry photo. It was them trying to pull her off them as she was pressing their heads down so she would appear taller.

She was tall already, but two boys that were in the midst of their puberty, skyrocketing like a bean sprout, was a bit degrading to her very large ego. Her upper arm, hardly visible to the camera’s view, has a cloth— the exact same Satoru uses to cover her arm— wrapped around it with a cute little bunny knot that pokes from the side.

He closes his eyes, pulling the cloth from his eyes, breathing out.

“Hey, Sensei! Spar with me!” Satoru shouts, he’s a first year, not knowing anyone but you, the woman who watched him grow up. “Hah?” You chuckle, shaking your head with a smoking cigarette peeking from the corner.

You're sitting at your desk in your chair, it has wheels, which you occasionally spin in circles when no one is watching. Though, since your class is in session, you lay your feet on the wooden desk, which is dented from the amount of time you’ve slammed your heels on it. With your free hand— the other occupied with a newspaper— you shoo him off, continuing, “No way, you’re too weak. And,” you fwip your newspaper, “I’m busy, as you can see.”

He gapes, extremely offended. “I’m the strongest there is!” He shouts, his thumb pointing at his chest, which he puffs out.

“Alright, strongest.” You tease, watching his face grow red as you bare what you like to call, a shit eating grin.

“Let’s see, how strong are you?”

Your head turns to your other first year students, Suguru and Shoko.

Suguru sits with his head in hit palm, clearly dazed and exhausted, and Shoko has her head up in the air, leaning back in her seat with a straw in her mouth. Her arms dangling at her side.

The nearing summer heat is killing all of you, but it's impacting your classes too. The windows are open to let the breeze in, but if you close it, the classroom will turn into an oven. You have a fan running in the background, but only at you.

You know what they say, beggars can’t be choosers.

“If— if I win, we get the fan.”

Suguru and Shoko’s ears perk up, their attention on their classmate.

You shrug, placing the newspaper down. “Alright,” your fingers take the cigarette from your lips with one last puff, blowing the air away with the side of your mouth.

“Here's the deal—” you put it out on the already ashened ashtray. “If you guys win, I’ll buy all three of you fans” you tell them, holding three fingers up, then pointing to your own. “And you can even have mine.”

Then, you smile, it's a scary one that sends shivers down Satoru’s back. “But if I win, not only will the three of you work your asses off outside, you’ll be fully clothed in your uniforms, no unbuttoning, no fans, no water—”

“But Sensei, we’ll die without water!” Shoko whines, still chewing on the straw.

“No you won’t, I'll make sure you three won't. So might as well hydrate before. From dawn till dusk, we’ll train like you’ve never trained before, for the entire week, starting as soon as he loses."

That last sentence froze the room, and you continued with your closed eyes smile, waving Satoru off. “I’ll let the three of you discuss it amongst yourselves.”

He gulps, nodding before trudging back with a slouch to his friends. You observe them whisper, then watch as Satoru gets him in the head before all three of them nod.

He seems more confident, striding back. His hands slam on your desk, his glasses gleam, and that grin you taught him, “I’ll do it!”

You mirror that grin standing up, towering over the growing student, “Atta boy,”

He finds himself in the outdoor gym, right beside the track.

You, even as a teacher, never wore the Jujutsu Uniform, maybe the bottoms at times, but your top was always a tank top. In the bleachers, most of the staff. Your Colleague Mei Mei, old student Utahime, Yaga, everyone was there, to witness the worst defeat that the first years could ever experience.

“Satoru?” You call out sweetly, a newly lit cigarette sitting in the corner of your mouth. You turn, smiling to the camera that Mei Mei points at the two of you, quickly holding up a peace sign.

“Yes?”

“You have anymore conditions you wanna add before I beat you?”

He looks around, almost contemplating whether he should tell you before pointing at himself.

“Go on a date with me?”

“START!”

You laugh, dropping the cigarette and stomping on it.

“In your dreams.”

Satoru is quick, activating his infinity like it’s nothing, then going in for a quick blow. “Cursed Technique Lapse—”

You yawn.

His hand is angled to you, “Blue.”

The ground beneath you is pulled, most things around are pulling into him. All but you, standing still on the ground before being thrown back at you.

It's loud, the rubble falling onto you causing gasps from the Bleachers from students. It's a cloud of smoke, and when it clears, you’re no where to be found.

Hell, even Gojo grows worried. Blood pools from underneath the rubble, and he wants to step forward, make sure you're alright, but he remembers your words.

'Satoru, if anything happens, don’t come near me. If you think the battle is over, it’s just beginning.'

He sighs, awaiting something, anything, but still, nothing. He finds himself putting down his infinity, and Suguru slaps his hand into his face, sighing. He never listens to anything anyone has to say to him.

He finally takes a step, but this is when you finally make your appearance.

“Hey, Satoru.” You groan, pushing off a large slab that sits atop of you.

“You really— wow that was heavy —you need to start listening to the things we adults tell you.” You sigh, bringing a hand in front of yourself, clenching your fist with only your pointer finger out, pointing it at him.

“Cursed Technique,” Your blood behind to fly in front of you, turning into objects similar to needles.

You smile at him, not saying anything else, and he tries again, only to find you were tricking him.

The needles fly, hitting his pressure points.

His eyes fly open, before he falls, paralyzed.

Your binding vow allows you to access a higher amount of your cursed energy for every attack given. Blood Manipulation, a technique handed to you from your Clan, Kamo, allows you to manipulate your own blood at will. You decided to create a binding bow with yourself, allowing you to create a higher input of Cursed energy, to 120% into your attacks. Every attack given to you, that causes you to lose blood, would cause an even greater attack to be inflicted on the person because of this. It's confusing to explain, but you made sure to demonstrate it to your first years.

Satoru just doesn't listen.

Mei Mei is still taking photos of the ordeal with your camera, sure to share them with Yuki, your former classmate.

Satoru stares up at you, who is looking down at him with a smile, your hair falling with gravity, the sun behind your head, illuminating your strands.

“I am the strongest for a reason.” You grin at him, kneeling down and placing a palm on his chest, taking back your blood, which sits in a ball in your hand.

You turn to the bleachers, whistling to your other students who are in the midst of running away.

“Cmere.”

They sigh, walking off.

“I’ve got an errand to run, so you’re going to stay with Yaga—”

“WHAT!” Yaga shouts in the distance, but you ignore him completely, continuing, “and his students. Kapeesh?” You point at them.

They all nod, and you help Satoru up, patting his shoulder.

“Yaga, make sure their uniforms are completely buttoned up, no water, nothing. Just make 'em run. I don't want to see a jog, no walk, just run.”

He nods slowly, watching you send him a thumbs up before patting Shoko’s head.

You scurry off, and are gone for quite some time. So long in fact, that it's already dusk. The trio is sweaty, out of breath panting, and overall exhausted. They walk back to the classroom, the hallways are hot and expect the room to be an oven, yet when they enter, it’s chilly.

On their desks, each their own fan, and you, with your arms crossed, asleep.

No matter how annoying their teacher was, she was always the best.

Was.

By the time they became second years, you were always in and out, or just on the phone. Yaga was now their teacher, but you are still their favorite. Days when you were there, they would sit in your classroom after ditching Yaga’s, sitting with Kento and Yu.

“You three better run off back to your class.” You tell them, smoking with your reading glasses sitting at the bridge of your nose. You has a piece of chalk in your hand as you wrote on the chalkboard, equations that now seem like a piece of cake to them.

They grew too fast over the summer, the boys towering over you. Shoko was still a short girl, who was now smoking. You wonder where she picked that up from.

“Nah! We’ll stay here.” Satoru told her, sitting in your seat and swirling around.

Defeated, you sigh, “Suit yourself.”

He stares at you as you write; really taking in your state. Eyebags that were darker than usual, chapped lips, more empty cigarettes boxes, and don't forget to mention the frequent phone calls.

And, as ironic as it sounds, your phone rings. From the title, he can see a name, read as Yuki.

You click your tongue, placing the hall down and running your hand through your hair. As you pass by, you place a hand on his head, ruffling it while flipping open your phone.

“Yea, Yuki?” Then, you walk out.

Your voice is muffled, slowly fading out the more you walk down the hallway. The last thing he could make out was the word ‘Dad’.

The five students sit in awkward silence before Satoru finally breaks the ice.

“What’s up with her?”

The question was for everyone in general, but mainly towards the first years, who got to see her more than he did, which did get him jealous.

“A mission! Supposedly she’s hunting someone down.” Yu speaks up, and Satoru quickly asks.

“Who?”

“A man named K—”

“We don’t know.” Kento speaks up, and it's obvious he’s lying considering the fact that Yu was about to say the man's name.

He didn't press any longer, only narrowing his eyes. Then, humming, leaning back in her seat. It smelt just like her.

He closed his eyes, the plan running through his mind. He nods, thinking how genius he is.

Later, he finds himself in your apartment, sitting at your dining table.

You would jump if you didn’t feel his cursed energy waving from the parking lot.

“Well, here we have a rogue student.” You joke, slipping your shoes off at the door.

“Your shoes off?”

He looks down at his feet, then back up, nodding. “I remember some things.”

You grin, “I know, I didn't make you completely useless.”

It's silent, his eyes wander to the stove. The time was 3:42am, he had been waiting for her for a long time.

“What were you doing?” He asks, staring as she begins boiling water. “Hm? Mission. Tea?” You ask, trying to lighten his mood and overall pressing.

He shakes his head, and you stare at him. His clothes are changed, hair damp, almost completely dry. “Who are you hunting—”

The handle of your tea cup breaks off, the base falling to the ground. It shatters, you stare down at it blankly.

“Satoru.” You say his name coldly, the kettle begins to whistle loud.

“My affairs have nothing to do with you.”

The distance between the two of you is great, like a ripple in time, about immeasurable.

“B-but! I can help you—!”

“Satoru!” You shout, glaring at him, your eyes glowing, face darkens. You calm when you see his expression, almost hurt, and scared. His eyebrows contorted, his lips parted. “Satoru.” You whisper now, walking to him with your arm open. You embrace him, his head to your stomach. Fingers play in his white hair.

“I don’t want you getting hurt. The last thing I want of you is for you to get hurt. This is my own burden,” you take his face in your hands, smiling, “You understand? Taking the future away from children is unforgivable.”

He sighs heavily, wondering when you would stop seeing him as a child, and in a new light as a man.

“I’m not a kid.” He grumbles, his arms wrap around your torso willingly.

“Then a baby,” you joke with a coo, shaking him left and right softly.

“Mei is taking Iori on a mission, I’ll be accompanying them. So, we’ll be gone for no longer than a day.” You inform, stroking his head.

He nods, his eyes growing heavy.

“If you're tired, go to bed.”

“No.”

You shake your head, a light chuckle escaping past your lips. So stubborn. “Suit yourself.”

You go back around to the kitchen, turning off the kettle. “I’ll go shower, your tea is ready.” You tell him, walking over and holding his cup by the rim, placing it on the coaster in front of him. His eyes stare at the cup, almost cautiously. He nods, taking the cup from the table.

By the time you're done, you find the boy asleep upright on the chair, his head down and eyes closed, small snores escaping his lips.

You find yourself scurrying to your table by the door, rummaging through the drawer to pull out an old camera, snapping pictures of him. You laugh, placing the camera on the table he’s at, kneeling in front of him to stare.

You don't remember him growing up this fast, it kind of hurts.

Your hand goes up to his face, squeezing his nose to stop him from breathing. His eyes open wide, and you laugh at his panicked face.

“To bed with you.” You whisper, and he tiredly nods, taking your hand as you lead him to the guest bedroom, but he stops when you try to pull him into the room.

“Satoru,”

He looks down with a pout, his shaggy hair covering his eyes.

“I want to sleep with you.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, shaking your head with a sigh before leading him to your room. Allowing him to open your sheets and sprawl into your bed. You tuck him back in, patting his stomach as you lay down.

“Just like when you were a child. Always asking your parents to sleep over, and of course I let them. You were so cute!” You exclaim, positioning yourself to your side. He stares up into the ceiling, and you watch him. Your head on your hand.

“Stop staring into Narnia, sleep—”

“You won’t die, will you?”

His voice is soft, and he won't look at you. He doesn’t want to see how you're staring at him. Your eyes wide, lips puffed, clearly taken aback.

“Ah, what makes you say that?” You whisper, your tone dropping.

“You don’t sleep, your never home—”

“You’ve been in my house?”

He pouts, “Technically, it’s not a house.”

You laugh at his response. “Satoru, I’m a human.”

“But the strongest.”

“You’ve seen me bleed. I don’t plan on dying right now, but everyone dies, some sooner than others.”

Now, he finally turns to you and your smiling face. He doesn’t cry, not that you’re surprised. He's never cried.

You hear him breathe out a hum, closing his eyes. A smile graces your lips, and you brush his stray hairs from his twitching nose, which tickles him.

“Good night,” you whisper, before getting up and sitting at the chair beside your bed, and wrapping a blanket around yourself.

After a few days of no sleep, it finally hits you like bricks, a shame you have to wake up at seven, but you’ll be sure to thank those two hours of sleep that grace your schedule.

—

The yawn that passes your lips is atrocious. It's the 13th one that you’ve done, and Iori is growing irritated. “Sensei—”

“(Y/N) to you champ,” You correct her, and she bites back her tongue.

“(Y/N)-san.. did you sleep by any chance?” She asks, smiling with tight lips. You, on the other hand, raise an eyebrow, your head leaning on Mei Mei's shoulder, who’s clicking through her red flip phone.

“My personal life is none of your concern.” You tell her.

You swear, the younger these new sorcerers are, the more disrespectful they get.

It’s raining, the roads are wet and slippery. Silence fills the vehicle, aside from the frequent wipes of the window shields and Mei tapping through her phone. You don’t even remember dozing off, just appearing in front of a screwed up house.

Iori turns around, staring at her old teacher and new colleague. She respects her, but can’t stand her. She is the reason Gojo is the way he is.

“You have to keep watch out here in case anything happens.”

With your pinky finger deep in your ear, you're clearly disinterested. “Yeah yeah..” waving them off, Mei mei gives you one final look, her features resembled that of a feline, elegant and cool, she smiles, striding off with her umbrella behind the young sorcerer.

“Two hours!” You shout at their disappearing figures.

That's the reason you were there, to determine whether this was a time warping curse. It’s quite possible the flow of time is distorted in there.

So you sat, and waited. And waited, and waited, until two hours did pass.

With a sigh, you take out your flip phone, dialing Yaga and explaining to him the situation.

“The flow of time is different here, yeah. Utahime is with Mei. … After two days, come assist if Utahime can’t get it.”

You close your device, trudging into the building. Your eyes close, the smell of blood reeks, but you continue to follow the familiar cursed energy, followed by a high pitched scream.

“With a scream like that, you could be a scream queen.” You laugh, throwing your head back.

“Kamo-san!” Utahime exclaims, almost in relief.

“Yoohoo!” You greet, waving your hand at her, the other lost in your pocket.

“Have you figured it out yet?” You ask, your head tilting.

She stares at you, almost annoyed.

“Not yet.”

“You best hurry,” you start, fishing a cigarette from your pocket. It’s not boxed, your pocket is just full of cigarettes. The other pocket held the lighter. Your hand cups it, lighting the cigarette. A cloud of smoke hits her in the face, and you laugh at her, pointing as she waving her hand away.

“Sorry about that, but anyways,” your pointer finger is pointing in the air, moving in circles. “Time is running differently in here.”

“I had the feeling,” Mei says, standing besides you.

“Go on Utahime, figure it out.” You shoo her, sitting on the ground of the hallway. It's dirty, dust and bugs crawling throughout the space, but you’ve dealt with worse.

In a daze, you hear Utahime and Mei’s muffled voice, a couple thuds, then the ground, which you were sitting on, crumbling apart.

The three of you in a free fall, though the only one panicking seems to me Utahime.

You're falling in circles, hair flying everywhere, cigarette still in your mouth, you take off the bandage from your finger, opening the scab and drip blood. You bring the heat of your blood to almost boiling, turning it into vapor so you can stay above in the air.

Utahime is screaming bloody murder still, and no doubt in your mind that she could be the next scream queen.

You find yourself next to Shoko, listening to Satoru tease Utahime. “You cryin?"

“No! I’m not, respect your Seniors!” She shouts, crushed by the rubble.

You ruffle Shoko’s hair before coming behind Satoru, closing your fist you knock the back of his skull.

“Ow!” He whines, holding it in pain.

“Be respectful, kid.” You scold, blowing the smoke from your cigarette away from him. Your hand grabs ahold of the large rubble that crushes Utahime, allowing her to crawl out.

“If I was crying? Would you console me?” Mei asked, Gojo responding seriously, but also playfully.

“No way! You wouldn't cry, you're strong Mei!” He tells her, and you sigh.

Utahime, still on the ground, shoots up. The rubble pieces on her back fell, and you stared blankly at him.

“GOJO!”

Behind her, a large curse pokes up, startling Utahime, and even you a little. Utahime jumps on you, who is still holding the rubble piece up. You drop it, eyes wide as you stare at it.

“Yikes.” You whisper, when another curse eats it.

“Hey, Satoru. It’s not nice to pick on the weak!” You hear a familiar voice.

Suguru, under the influence of Satoru.

“How long do you plan on holding on for?” You ask teasingly, feeling the girl shake.

She stares into your eyes before jumping off, her face red as a tomato, teeth clenched while her finger waves at you accusingly.

“I-I- I DIDN’T MEAN THAT! I THOUGHT YOU WERE.. uh.. My dog! Yea, my dog!”

You raise an eyebrow, shrugging. “It was a bit, comforting..” you tell her, teasing her by showing her your embarrassed face, gaze to your side, flickering around before looking back into her eyes. Your arms hold yourself, and you laugh right as her mouth pops open.

She quickly leaves when she notices Shoko. Hugging the girl tightly,

“Sensei!” Shoko calls out, and you notice something.

It’s as bright as day. The sun shining down on all of you, the clouds on the blue sky.

You gaze up blankly, slightly in a daze.

“What is missing?” You whisper to yourself, your fingers rubbing on your chin.

Then, amongst their conversation, you hear one of them talk about a veil, presumably discussing an outfit, and you internally hear glass shatter.

The three students kneel in front of Yaga.

“Who was in charge of the veil?” He asks, and the two point to the one in the middle.

Satoru.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, groaning.

Again, your phone rings. Satoru stares at you, almost accusingly, but you pay him no mind.

“Yuki,” you start, walking out the room. Satoru looks in a daze watching you leave, and Yaga following suit, punches the boys on the head before he leaves.

“Hey, we can see the hearts in your eyes.” Suguru teases, hitting his shoulder.

“Really!? You can?!” He asks, genuinely curious.

The two stop and stare at him, and Satoru feels stupid.

“I’m obviously kidding.”

“..”

“..”

“You can’t send them on that!” You shout at Yaga, so loudly that just they can hear you as clear as day.

The school rumbles under your wrath, a fee students in the classrooms fearful. But the trio in the gym stand uncaring.

“Please, Yaga.”

Yaga looks down at you, sighing before patting your head. “It’s not my decision, kid.”

You right the corners of your eyes, chewing on your bottom lip.

“I know.” You whisper, walking away from him.

When your kids were going on a life threatening mission, you were being sent off by the higher ups, finding your father.

Kenjaku.

It would be hard, considering he changes his body every few years.

You don't understand why Riko Amanai was being in the care of two second years. You’ve already been in contact with her for a couple months, filling her in on things no one else wanted to do.

You could easily take care of this, but higher-ups said Kenjaku was first.

So you bit down your tongue, swallowed the ball forming in your throat, and walked away from the school campus.

I remember Dad, he had that scar over his forehead.

You flipped open your phone, receiving a message from Yuki, which read, Sendai City, and an attached image of a woman, bobbed hair, and that same scar through her forehead holding a toddler.

You hold your breath.

A brother.

Even though the two of you, biologically speaking, had different parents, you couldn't help but notice similarities the two of you had. Same gleam in your eyes, same cheeky smile.

You found yourself chuckling a bit at the photo, and at the boy.

“Okay,” you whisper, your phone back into your pocket with a nod. Hand clenched. “Sendai,” you tell yourself, marching off.

…

…

You should have come earlier. The Jujutsu Tech, was a nightmare. Blood everywhere, a destroyed entrance, and a failed mission.

They sent you to get rid of Kenjaku, but when you heard of what had happened, you rushed back home.

Your mind running a million times a minute. Toji killed Riko, he hurt your students.

All you could think about were your boys.

“Satoru?! Suguru?!” You shout, running towards the dorm rooms. Just as your about to knock on Satoru’s door, Suguru is beside you. “He’s not in there.”

You almost gasp at his appearance, so different from what your used to. His hair is out, his eyes purple and bloodshot from crying, he’s not in his uniform.

White baggy shirt and some sweatpants you gave him as a first year that had finally come to fit him.

You give him a broken smile.

“C’mere,” you whisper, opening your arms to him. You pat his back, rubbing it in circles, but he doesn’t cry.

He trembles, but he doesn't cry.

“It was my fault, I’m sorry. I shouldn't have left—”

“I’m too weak.” He cuts you off, his forehead on your shoulder. “I can’t keep up with him anymore.” He tells you, and your heart almost breaks.

You give him a reassuring squeeze, sighing. “Suguru, in this world, nobody is truly equal.” It's the honest truth, you think. Something you wish someone had told you in your younger days. “I just hope, in this life, you can all find happiness.”

You hold his face in your hands, smiling up at him.

“My kids are growing up so big, so fast. So I'll do this one last time.” You tell him, that last part confusing him, but you notice his eyes gloss over.

One last time.

You make your way to Shoko after taking Suguru back to his bed, who is in the second year classroom, alone.

You lean at the doorway, and she doesn’t notice you. A cigarette sticking from the corner of her mouth as she flips through her medical books. A bag of opened chips sit on the three desks she put together. The room is dim, but familiar.

“There’s my favorite girl,” you greet, finally walking up to her.

She too, seems more tired than usual.

You pat her head, ruffling her hair a bit.

“Hey! What’re you doing here?” She asks with a smile, watching you stare at the three desks, letters carved into them. You chuckle, responding without looking.

“I’m here to say goodbye.”

She blinks, then laughing. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you're.. going to die..” realization hits her.

You only smile back, hand on her cheek as you stroke her with your thumb.

“Lay off on the cigarettes,” you begin, and she takes her head out of your grasp, shaking her head profusely.

“No..”

“Make sure to make your bed in the morning, brush your teeth, wash your face,”

“Stop.” She says, chewing on the cigarette.

“Oh and make sure those morons take care of themselves as well.

“Sensei!”

You stare at her, and she looks in your eyes.

You find your eyes watering. This has never happened before. You don’t recall a single memory of you crying. But, here you are. In front of one of your old students, crying.

“Ah, this is so strange.” You mutter, wiping your eyes, and Shoko stares at you, her own face growing red, eyes filled with emotion.

“Take care, Sensei.” She tells you, hugging you hard.”

You snort, squeezing her back. “You too, I love you all very much.”

You leave her back to her studying. Your first years, took it easier. They’re too gullible, to innocent, you can’t tell them.

You wave them goodbye, and lastly was Satoru.

But he wasn’t there.

He was, somewhere.

Not where she needed him.

She laughed at herself, shaking her head as she made her way back to Sendai.

Her last phone call was made to Yuki, “Hey,” you start. And she’s silent. You hear sniffles from her end of the phone, and you can’t help but tease her. “If you start crying now I won’t be able to stop myself.”

“I love you.” You tell her, and she’s crying on the line, unable to say anything. You end the call, the last one to make, Satoru. Of course, he doesn’t answer, so you talk for the voicemail.

“Satoru, my boy. My pride and joy, you weren’t at school so I couldn’t talk to you face to face. And I have a lot that I want to say, but I'm running on limited time.”

You swallow, walking down the street, and hand in your pocket, other holding your flip phone to your ear.

“Don’t blame yourself, number one. I don’t wanna hear, I should have been there, or blah blah blah. Only I’m allowed to do that. Anyways, I'm sure at this point, you’re stronger than me. Way stronger than me. But, not the strongest. I’m the strongest. Does that make sense? I'm sorry, I'm rambling, I just wanted to tell you, it’s been a pleasure knowing you, and I'm sorry I won’t be able to see you become the man you’ve dreamt of being. I love you, Satoru, and take care of yourself and the other—”

Your time with the caller is over, your voicemail has been sent.

“Ah damn.” You mutter, standing in front of a warehouse.

Cursed energy if radiating from the center, so you bring your fingers up. Your pink and ring fingers interlock, your middle fingers curl, fitting side by side, and your pointer fingers are straight up, the tips touching each other, your thumbs too.

“Domain expansion: Bloody Mirror.”

Satoru hears glass breaking while on his way back to the school, his hands are in his pockets, and he’s care free, thinking about bothering his Sensei—

Screams is all he hears. Sobs, and Yaga, his head down and shaking, holding what seemed to me a bloodied armband.

Heh, funny. It looks like the same one that (Y/N) used.

Utahime stands in front of Yaga, head in her hands and shaking her head. This was just a dream, she kept telling herself, but her sobs wouldn’t stop.

“Satoru.” A voice called out, it was Yaga. Even from far away, his voice was just so clear.

His steps grew heavier, like weights were on his ankles. His posture even began slouching, with his heart racing.

“Hey Yaga! Say, where’s (Y/N)- Sensei? She’s always out and about—”

“She’s dead.”

“And she never comes home..” he says, whispering the words home. He doesn’t even realize his eyes go wide, of that the only sound he can hear is his beating heart. It scared him. Really badly, it scared him. His feet carried him to Shoko’s ‘Lab’, though it was really a morgue.

He didn’t expect to find Suguru, who was usually holed away in his room since the incident, sitting on the chair looking down. His hands clenched, he didn’t want to get up.

Shoko’s eyes were red, puffy, tired.

A cloth over the body, and his feet took him to it.

He saw someone, with the same hair color as you under there, and it had felt like he had died again.

He began peeling the cloth away, but that’s when Shoko stopped him, right below your eyes, that's where she stopped him.

What he didn’t get to see, what only Shoko saw, was the largest, hole in a person’s face she had ever scene in her small, but broad highschool years as a healer.

Not only was your mouth missing, but your arm was completely ripped off, and if she had to describe how it had been torn, it would have looked like string cheese, as though someone had torn it off in such a way, as to torture you.

Another hole through your chest, your intestines no longer existed and your spinal cord severed, but, through and through, they were told you still won.

Only dropping down when a sorcerer came, giving them a smile before plopping down.

“Let me see her.” Satoru tells her, but his grip is weak, his hands tremble.

“Let me heal her first—”

“Let me see her first! I want to see.. I want to see how she won.” He says, his voice going from a loud shout to a soft whisper.

Shoko lets go, turning away because she doesn’t want to have to bear the sight of the scene once more.

Satoru drops it, wanting to scream but nothing will come out, wanting to cry, but his eyes are just so dry.

He wants to say something, but his voice is gone.

He’s gone.

He stares down blankly at the corpse, The Strongest is dead.

The next one will take over, the cycle never ending.

He doesn't even realize that his breathing grows labored, his eyes, for the first time in his life, are unable to see.

His six eyes, the jewels of his clan, prevent him from seeing.

He can’t feel anything, he can’t move, but he finds himself in the middle of your apartment. Pictures of him and you and Shoko and Suguru, and Yaga—

Everybody.

With that dingy camera, you snapped hundreds of photos. He knew where you would hide the camera, so when he skimmed through it, he found himself falling apart. Pictured from days he doesn't even remember, his childhood all in this stupid old camera.

So stupid.

But he can’t contain himself. He can’t control his heart, the way his forehead hits the wood floors as he begs God, He who blessed the young Gojo, for her back. He would give anything for her back. His heart was with her, it would never come back.

The more he clicked through them the more he would ache. Looking at the photos with a trembling hand, he comes across one where the four of them are smushed in the back seat of a car. All of them sleeping, with someone else, presumably the driver that you threatened begged to take a photo for you. You were winking, finger to your lips like you were shushing.

Shoko was on top of your lap, Suguru and Satoru on either side, leaning on your shoulders.

He chuckled, and the more we went, the more silly photos he came across. He found himself wiping his tears away, replacing them with his laughter.

Shoved away in his pocket was your armband, which he now used as his blindfold, and in the other.

A dingy old camera to take photos, and make memories with his students.

But, sometimes, he’ll go back to the original camera, that hides away in the same drawer, looking at the past and reliving those memories.

He wonders how Megumi feels every time he looks at the numerous photos of you that are scattered in the house. The carvings of Gojo’s height, made by you as he grew. The two strongest, living in one house, at the same time. So, he looks Megumi, possibly as a projection of himself, but he has Tsumiki. He also finds it funny, when Itadori is with him, baring the same smoke you once had.

Wanting to laugh, it seems that the Strongest are always taking in the enemy's kid. It’s like a bong between them all.

From one strongest to another.

[hes-striker]

What would Blitzø do?

*Phoenix spawn in with a horse that looks like Strikers but a bit younger and different also a one day that kind of looks the same as the horse and also a little plush then he pat the horse on the head then fly away but close enough so he can watch what Blitzø does*

Bunny: This post is non-canon to the current plot of the blog but I wanted to write this anyways.

Blitzø: *confused about the horse being in his apartment* Holy shit!

Winnie and Wesson: *waking up from their naps and sees the horse. They get really excited for it* CAN WE KEEP HIM?!

Striker: *surprised by the horse in the apartment* Probably not a good idea to have a horse in such a confined space.

Horse: *immediately gets frightened and starts to bucks around*

Blitzø: Yeah, and it’s about to destroy everything! Stay down and don’t move!

The horse rears back, hooves thrashing dangerously close to Striker. Seeing the danger, Striker pushes Wesson back behind the couch and takes the brunt of the kick to his ribs. The impact sends him crashing into the wall, leaving him clutching his side as he struggles to get up.

Blitzø: STRIKER! *He starts to move toward him but hesitates, keeping an eye on the kids *Dammit, you okay?!

Striker: *gritting his teeth as he staggers to his feet, ignoring the pain* I’m fine! Just keep the kids outta the way!

Striker sets his jaw, focusing on the horse. Without hesitation, he lunges at the animal, grabbing the reins and swinging himself onto its back. The horse bucks wildly, thrashing as Striker holds on for dear life.

Blitzø: You’re gonna get yourself killed, dumbass! *ducks as the horse’s hooves scrape the ceiling, keeping the twins huddled close*

Wesson: *eyes wide with awe* What’s Mr. Striker doing?

Blitzø: He’s breaking in the damn horse, what’s it look like?! Just stay put, alright? Don’t move!

Striker: C’mon, ya stubborn bastard... settle down! *He digs his spurs in lightly, leaning into the horse’s movements with the skill of a seasoned rider. Slowly but surely, the animal begins to calm, its wild bucking subsiding into a tense but controlled stillness*

With the horse finally under control, Striker swings down from the horse, landing on unsteady feet. He leans heavily against the horse, wincing as he rubs his ribs.

Blitzø: *rushing over once the danger has passed* Alright, kids, go to your room! Mr. Striker needs a minute *He shoos Winnie and Wesson toward their room, making sure they’re safe before turning back to Striker* Okay, what the hell just happened?! Why are we suddenly playing rodeo in my apartment?!

Striker: *panting as he steadies himself* Hell if I know.

[queen-scribbles]

*starts working on OWaP again*

*random VikkArue plot bunny appears*

NO. I want to finish this chapter. Shoo. Go away, wait your turn.

[pastafossa]

Matt Murdock head scratchies ficlet

Mostly because the thought wouldn’t leave me since leaving a reference to it in TRT’s new chapter and I need to get the idea to leave me alooooone since it’s interfering with my other writing. So have some bonus fluff for flufftober!

Ship: Matt Murdock x Reader Rating: SFW Wordcount: 389 Warnings: none, just you turning Matt into a puddle. Matt Murdock, seen here negotiating how he can get more head scratchies in his life.

Quote from The Red Thread, Chapter 68:

“Oh, of course.” You feigned realization, shooting your brows up and letting your voice take on a lilting tone. “And this is definitely all for my well-being, and has nothing to do with you being a cuddle-fiend, or loving it when I scratch my fingers through your hair while you fall asleep.”

He shook his head as if in disappointment, but he couldn’t quite force down all of his laughter. He knew he had you. “My hypothetical love of head scratches is irrelevant to this case.”

“Your eyes roll back and you start purring like a big cat,” you whispered to him. “I’m surprised the neighbors don’t hear you. They’re going to start wondering if you’re hiding a panther in your apartment, Matt.”

*LATER THAT EVENING*

“Matt?” 

“Nn?”

“Are you keeping your eyes closed so I can't see them?”

“No,” Matt mumbled, and he definitely had not snapped his eyes shut so you wouldn’t see them roll back the second your fingers slid through his hair, nails scraping gently across his scalp in a way that made him shiver. Each slow scratch sent little pulses of pleasure down his spine, his whole body tingling. 

“Matt, show me your eyes.”

“No-oo,” he slurred stubbornly, denying it even as another slow scratch maybe made his back arch up a little, his head lolling into your hand. “They—mm—don’t work, no need t-to open them.”

He kept it up as you snorted and threw a leg over him, climbing up to sit astride his chest. Probably waiting to see if he’d open his eyes.

Your other hand found his hair, ten lines of bliss scratching across his scalp. He made a strangled hiccuping noise, biting his lip so hard he almost bled, his toes curling against the sheets. 

“Are you also trying not to purr right now? Because that’s adorable. Let the purr out, Matt.”

He clumsily shook his head, refusing to answer, his chest trembling beneath you as he held the sound in. He could do this. He could—

“You’re acting like I don’t know where your head-scratch buttons are, Matt.” You slid your fingers lower, lifting his head the slightest bit to scratch gently across the skin just above his neck where tension often lurked, and his control cracked. 

His mouth fell open, a loud purr finally tearing free as he melted beneath you, pliant and slack. Oh, God, never stop. Every last ounce of tension and stress fled, his brain short-circuiting and emptying rapidly of all thought. You chuckled, leaning down to kiss the corner of his mouth as sleep hovered warm and fuzzy at the edges of his mind. He tried to slur a defense, but all that came out was another purr, his breath hitching when you nuzzled at his neck, his heart rate slowing.

Good, warm, safe, soft, loved. 

“One day,” you whispered as he started to doze, the sounds around him softening and melding together, “I’m going to give you a head massage, even if it means I have to mop you up off the floor afterwards.”

“L-love you, nnn.”

“I love you too, and I’ll take that as a, ‘yes.’”

-x-

Tagging 🔥The Church of Saint Murdock🔥 taglist (to be added, click here): @thenerdlordparade @nurisiliel @psychedelic-star @weeb-verine @acrabbybish @nostalgicslumbers @shadows-echoes @the-bluest-hour @tashas-cauldron-of-tomato-soup @coolhairdocroissantpickle @andthewishingwell​@juniebugg. @starry-ocean-floor.@strawb3rrydr3ss​@bohemianrhapsody86​@moonyinthestars​ @caswinchester2000​@thequeenofthefallen @elementec​ @phantomkindalikejaiden​@greatmoonchild​ @lov3vivian​ @mackycat11​ @ownerofthehighground​ @melodicmel​ @vx-vexedvixen​ @bellamy-barnes​ @junipermurdock​ @claire-of-asgard​ @tripletstephaniescp​ @fanfictionreblogs​ @smemento @coldwetbasementnoodles @fuckingcams @pantaeudaimonia @janesofia7​ @catsnow14​@navs-bhat​ @hopplessdreamer​ @onemarvelouscleric @fulloffeels​ @belladonichaze39 @theheartshaker​ @lady-loves-a-lot​ @somanyyumypeoplejustletmehave1​ @janesofia7​ @aquamarinerose​ @youcandalekmyballs​ @shen-hongzi​ @pastamomma​ @lykaiosmedia​ @glxwingrxse​ @inaretuza​ @scorpiowidow @theoneonly-huntress​

[narastories]

Ghost Story thoughts

“Butters cleared his throat. “We could ask—” “No,” Murphy and I said at the same time, and continued speaking over each other. “The day I ask for that bastard’s help will be the day I—” “—told you before, over and over, that just because he’s reasonable doesn’t mean he’s—” “—a murderer and a drug dealer and a pimp, and just because Chicago’s corrupt government can’t put him away doesn’t mean—” “—you were smarter than that,” Murphy finished. Butters lifted his hands mildly. “Okay, okay. I was on board at no. No going to Marcone for help.” He paused and looked around the room as if he’d never seen it before. “Because that would be . . . unprecedented.”

Okay first of all this is the funniest scene in the book so far and I’ve laughed out loud listening to this. Pure comedy. *chef’s kiss*

But second: can someone please explain to me why we (by that I mean Harry) are still hung up on the “Marcone is The Worst TM” stance? I mean sure he is guilty of all listed accusations, but... he’s what I would call a “season 1 villain”. He’s a Peter Hale. He’s a Lea. At book 13 Harry should really get over himself lol After what kind of people he did go for help and worked together with. Surely Marcone isn’t even in the same ballpark of unpleasantness as Lara or Mab or idk a dozen other players. And I’m with Butters on this one it’s not like it would be unprecedented even.

Anyway, I think it’s funny how allergic Harry is to the guy.

[sevi007]

I literally spent every free minute of the last four days (squeezed in between celebrating the Holidays and doing homework) working on my fanfic. I have lost control of my stories.

Or I’m just a writer, and that’s normal. Could be that one.

[forthechubbies]

Mrs. Jeon

My Little Liar

One nightstand gone Marriage!? The past catches up with Yn when her head over heels husband finds his lost bride and will keep her by any means necessary.

Yandere Idol! Jungkook x Chubby! Reader

Use of Alcohol, Strong Language, Toxic Behavior, Jealousy, and Denial

My Teddies ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ @swweetnightt @xx-sikki-nixx-xx @lolalee24 @mwitsmejk @mcusuperfreak @jinwifey @transparentprinceblr @flowery-hope @agustdboyoongie @97cityy @mochiarcher @toughbook @omgsuperstarg @joonado @bri-mal

🌸Feedback is always welcome🌸

You're Mine (Vol.7)- Cherry panties (Vol.9)

The beautiful choirs of the morning birds woke the sleepy individuals spread about the living room. Today is a special day. It's the day where BTS is no longer idols for a day but ordinary people, yep, which means no dispatch, no dance rehearsals, practice-nothing!

It's a BTS field day.

“Where should we go today?”

Namjoon had his heart set on the newly built library for some time now. However, Yoongi was in dire need of whiskey (He's on his last bottle.), Hoseok wanted to check the market, Seokjin heard there's a delicious buffet nearby, Taehyung and Jimin saw an old-fashioned arcade a little way from here, and Jungkook-

?...Jungkook?

The bunny stared off into space...which is nothing out of the ordinary but usually, He looks up at the ceiling, yet this time his doe eyes never left the staircase.

“Do you think she's awake?” He asked softly.

Hoseok groaned. “ He's a lost cause.”

“He’s always been one, to be fair,” Yoongi mumbled, snipping his coffee.

Jimin throws a suggestion. “ There's a local picnic area- I saw it when we arrived here. How about a picnic?”

The idea wasn't half bad; as a matter of fact, The plan for the evening was already in motion. Jin handled the food, Namjoon took the opportunity to check out the novel he had his heart set on, Yoongi aided Jin,

Hoseok rounded up all the entertainment while putting his faith in the two youngest to follow his direction keep guard on Jungkook.

“Is Yn coming along?” Jin asked. “ If so, I'm making desserts too. She will love my dasiks.” Jin sort of relishes having you as a house guest; You are positively the most adorable person he's ever laid eyes on Beside himself. Your eyes light up when you try something new, and you make cute noises and dance a little when you taste his food.

“Right. Umm-Jimin wouldn't mind heading up there and asking her?” Hoseok needed an extra head packing the car. “Hey, Jungkook, Help me carry this food to the car.”

Obstinately, JungKook assisted his hyung, and Jimin made his way upstairs.

Always remembering minding his manners, Jimin knocked first. “ Come in.” You were utterly breathtaking like the night before; You were wearing a floral design dress that flattered your chubby curves and heeled sandals that made you eye height with Jimin. “ I'm sorry If I'm too flashy. I have never seen such nice clothes-”

“ You look amazing.” Jimin blurted.

“Aww, That's sweet of you to think so.”

“I’m guessing you heard us from downstairs. Well-Ugh, We are ready when you are.” Jimin was a giggling mess; He cursed himself, feeling the temperature on his face surge the more you stared at him; he then gave awkward thumbs up before booking downstairs to relay the message to Hyung.

The returning sound of footsteps made you giggle. “Did you forget about something-?” You turned around to find Jungkook; you quite harshly shooed him away. “Oh, It's you.” You shunned him. “Get lost, Bunny boy, before I tell Jin.”

Even with a loaded threat, Jungkook leaned against the door frame, holding a lovey-dovey twinkle in his eyes even with a laden threat. He didn't intend on staying long.

“Good Morning.” He smiled, retrieving his jacket then returning to his hyungs.

“Good Morning?”

.....

This morning is more than bizarre. Jungkook isn't a giggling mess at the sign of you. Instead, he’s been pretty well-behaved...Why?. You can't help but think Jungkook is hatching a plot to get you alone to himself-

“ I think this is a perfect spot.” Having the opinion of the grass or a table, Jimin chose the table.

While the boys set up the picnic, you settled at a different table to not arouse suspicion you’re with them to potential ‘Army.’

“Hello.”

You look up to a handsome man greeting you. “ Oh, Hello”

“May I sit here?” There are a lot of open picnic tables, but there is no harm in sharing your table.

“Of course.” You offer some room, yet the skin to skin contact is inevitable.

"Ha-Jun" He offered you a friendly shake.

“Oh, I’m Yn.” You politely shook his hand. You clear your throat at the awkward silence between the two of you. His hands are big.

“Are you from around here?”

“No-I’m just um visiting. It’s so beautiful here.” More like being held hostage.

“ I assume so-You’re beauty is quite otherworldly.” Ha-Jun beamed at the heat steaming off your face.

“Oh-ha ha, I um thank you.” You could have sworn it was supposed to be a cool day, yet it’s grown hot all of a sudden.

“Jungkook, Come help start the fire. I wasted my faith in Hoseok; whenever the fire flare-up, He ends up running away from it. Please help, or we will never get to roast marshmallows.” Yoongi begged, but Jungkook didn’t hear him.

His Jealousy was much louder.

“Kookie, What’s wrong, boy?” Taehyung teased, speaking to Jungkook as if he were a dog. Taehyung solved the puzzle when he finally tracked Jungkook’s stare. “Oh boy.”

Like Clockwork, Jimin joined in on the peep show bringing three curious hyungs with them, leaving Yoongi alone as if he gives a damn.

“I’m sorry if I’m being nosey, but why are you here alone?” He sighed before adding a follow-up comment. “ It’s much nicer with someone to keep you company.”

You chuckled. “An Introvert like myself would say otherwise. I enjoy my own company.”

Ha-Jun has taken back..a little that is-Never has he met a woman with a quick tongue; most of them just giggle away. “Ah, you’re an introvert; huh, then you know what we extroverts love to do?”

“Kidnap you.” He answered, Standing up and gently taking your hand, bringing you up to your feet. “ And I know just where I am taking you. A lovely noodle shop.”

This is the part where you snatch your hand away and say-

“Ooh! I always wanted to try black noodles!”

Wait What!? Jungkook’s eyes widen twice their size. As he watched you run off with another man.

Jin returned after giving a closer view.

“When did you leave?” Hobi observed Jin hiking back up to their picnic spot.

Jin was verbally about his exciting discovery. “ Woah! He’s that handsome actor from the new drama; everyone’s raving. Um-Bad and Crazy?”

“ Wi Ha-Joon?!” The two youngest swarmed the oldest. “ Calling him handsome is an understatement,” Jimin added as Taehyung nodded to his preaching.

Outside the fanboy circle, Jungkook studied where you once sat. What did he have that Jungkook didn’t? Muscles? He’s ripped from head to toe. A pretty smile? Army loves his bunny teeth. Style? Everything he wears becomes iconic and sells out in seconds. Attractiveness? Please! Have you seen him on the cover of Vogue?!

The mystery made him itch…badly.

……

Sharing a meal with a handsome stranger was never on your bucket list, yet you are here. To make matters even weirder, People can’t keep their eyes off the two of you, but as much as you guys laughed and ate, you hardly noticed until Wa-Joon’s phone lit up via messenger.

He nearly chokes on his fourth bowl after seeing the time. “ I was supposed to be back on set an hour ago!”

Your eyes widen, looking at the orange sky. “ Oh no!” All you could think about is the boys; they must be worried sick.

Wa-Joon paid for your meal and took off again with your hand in his, assuming you wanted to tag along, but to his dismay, you squeaked out a “ Wait.”

“Oh, I'm sorry.” He was embarrassed, dragging you around like a ragdoll. “I didn’t want this day to end so early.”

His puppy eyes made your heart ping. “ As much as I would like to come with you. I have to get home-...My brothers are probably looking for me.”

“Do you want me to walk you back?”

Goodness, He’s a sweetie. “ No-No, You’re already late because of me.”

He humbly smiled, denying you for blaming yourself. Ha-Joon ran off, waving goodbye until he was out of sight.

Staring out into a sunset so pretty, You decided to take the detour back to the park. Your heels clicked against the pavement; You found yourself falling head over heels for wherever you were.

The streets were laced with beautiful lights and decorations enjoyed by the lovely couples under the falling sun. “Flower’s Park.” The park lived up to its name, nothing but gorgeous flowers from here on through.

A pristine paradise like this would be an old wive’s tail. There are very few places in America that maintain cleanness; however, they couldn’t hold a candle to this paradise-

“Pretty!” A flushed face girl hiccuped her way to you; she stuttered, stumbled off her feet and onto you. “You’re a foreigner! We don’t see foreigners as pretty as you in this part of town.” She giggled

She would know about pretty; her looks resemble a doll. Perfection.

“Hey?! You're not screaming when you see me.-You don’t know me?” She squeaked, becoming more and more excited to have the pleasure of meeting you by the minute. “ If that’s your case, I’m Jennie.”

“Jennie.” You repeated with an inviting smile. “I’m Yn.”

“Your outfit is the cutest. Where did you get it?”

Truth be told. This is one of the outfits Jungkook bought you. “ This old thing, I can’t remember if I tried.” You tittered. “But I’m sure it would look better on you.”

“We both would look amazing.” Jennie sassed playfully.

“Jennie!”

“Why is she so fast when she’s drunk?”

Three other gorgeous girls chased behind Jennie.

“Rose, Lisa, and Jisoo!” Jennie cheered, but the feeling wasn’t mutual.

“Shh! Come on, Jennie, we’ve been looking for you. Let’s go.”

One of the three peeled Jennie off your side just for her to yank away and return to your side, this time cuddling you in her arms.

She makes a pretty pout. “That’s rude; She’s-Yn’s my new friend. I’m not going unless I can take her with us.”

Obviously, There was no way in hell they were going to let a complete stranger join-

“Fine, but We have to hurry up. We only have a few hours of free time before heading to rehearsal.”

“Yay! Let’s go.” Jennie snatched your arm while running off.

…..

Damn it, Where is she?! Jungkook searched high and low to no avail. Sunlight was limited, and you were nowhere to be found. It felt like his brain was splitting in half; the thought of you being with someone or alone was unbearable.

“ I’m in the mood for dancin’, romantic’' You sang and danced to your heart's desire, drunk on euphoria and-soju. “ Ooh, I'm givin’ it all tonight.” You pressed pause when your favorite bunny came into your peripheral vision. “Kookie!”

You rushed into his arms, giggling up a storm as you laced your arms around his neck. “ I love this song! Come dance with me!” You pulled and tugged, but Jungkook didn't budge.

Jungkook's heart thumped through his shirt. He was three notches from exposing himself just to kiss those plump ruby lips of yours; instead, he hoisted you over his shoulder.

“Whoa!” You hiccuped. “ Oh, Kookie, We’re leaving already? Bye Jennie. Where are we going?”

“Home.”

“I missed you, Kookie.” Your lips pecked Jungkook's temple.

You were drunk out of your mind; He was well aware you would never speak this way if you were sober, but a thought popped up. Alcohol only helps people say what they are genuinely feeling, right?! Does this mean you've been lying to his face the whole time?

He chuckled, stroking the back of your thighs. “I missed you too, My Little Liar.”

[tarisilmarwen]

Me batting down a new WIP idea with a stick: No, shoo!  Bad plot bunny! >:(

[missfangirll]

Under your skin

Fandom: KinnPorsche Rating: General Relationship: Vegas / Pete Tags: fluff, tattoos, post-canon Words: 3177 Summary: Their story in five tattoos.

Read on AO3

- - - - -

This is what happens when I'm left alone with a plot bunny.. 😅

This is also my first attempt at writing for VegasPete, be kind 🥰

Please note: The plot follows the show, but with the addition of Venice as Vegas' and Pete's kid. (In the novel Venice is Vegas' little brother, who he decided to raise with Pete after Kan's death.)

- - - - -

- 1 -

The first time Vegas saw Pete’s tattoo, he didn’t pay it much attention beyond taunting the other man with its meaning, one way of many to poison his mind and break his spirit. It didn’t work, in the end, Pete as immovable as a mountain, even in the face of Vegas’ burning anger. 

The second time that line was visible to him he was busy doing other things, his mind occupied with the tiny noises Pete made as he dragged his underwear down his thighs, kissing and nipping at the exposed skin. 

The third time, when the storm had passed and they were lying in Vegas’ cramped hospital bed, he took his time, slowly caressing his index finger over the black letters.

“Why this quote,” he asked softly.

Pete hummed contentedly, shifting slightly on the pillow. After a while, he replied, “Because I believe in it.”

Vegas paused his ministrations, resuming them with a tiny huff of laughter when Pete nudged his hand impatiently. He drifted a bit closer to the other, nuzzling his cheek in Pete’s fluffy hair. 

“I know you do,” he said carefully, “but...” He trailed off, not sure how to voice the question, but Pete seemed to understand anyway.

“I believe in it,” he said again, voice a bit firmer than before. “When I was young my father lied to me about what had happened to my mum, then he wanted me to lie to my teachers, trainers, friends...” He inhaled shakily. “His whole life was one big bluff, he never achieved anything, and when I finally realised that, I swore to myself I would never follow this path.” He turned his head to press a soft kiss to Vegas’ jaw. “I believe in it,” he reiterated again, and this time, Vegas thought he understood.

- 2 -

“Where have you been?” Pete’s voice sounded tight, strained with a carefully concealed worry, as he stood in the small safehouse kitchen, deliberately relaxing his posture, Vegas noticed. He shrugged.

“Went out,” he said, ignoring the looks he received from the bodyguards and Pete alike. He shouldn’t have ditched them, he knew that, but he hadn’t needed an audience for what he had planned to do. Pete, as always, seemed to sense that there was more to Vegas’ silence and shooed the bodyguards out, not without giving them jovial shoulder pats and encouraging smiles. Vegas frowned, but didn’t say anything. When Pete turned back to him, he tried a smile. Pete’s brows furrowed in response. Biting his bottom lip, he took a step closer, hesitating for a second, then threw his arms around Vegas, hiding his face in the collar of Vegas’ silk shirt. 

“I was so worried,” he mumbled against the other’s skin. “Never do that again.”

“Sorry,” Vegas replied a bit sheepishly, then winced as Pete’s arms tightened around him, pressing them closer together. Of course Pete noticed and immediately took a step back, his arms now looped loosely around Vegas’ neck.

“What’s wrong?”, he demanded, but Vegas shook his head. Raising a single eyebrow, Pete paused for a moment, then trailed a hand slowly down Vegas’ chest, his ribs, then stilled as he felt the plastic wrapper underneath the shirt. With a searching look at the other’s face, he slowly, carefully pulled the hem out of Vegas’ pants, then paused again, eyebrows shooting up into his hairline.

“You got a tattoo?”, he asked, incredulous. “You ditched your bodyguards to get a tattoo?”

Vegas inhaled deeply, then took Pete’s hands in his. “I did,” he said simply, “because it was important.”

Pete looked up at him, then back down at his hip. “What does it even say?”

Vegas turned slightly into the kitchen light so Pete could read the single line in English, etched into his skin.

No legacy is so rich as honesty.

Pete went very still, his breathing hitching as he recognised the quote. “But... But why...,” he whispered, then faltered, breaths still uneven.

Vegas pulled him close, closer, then pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Because it is important to you,” he said softly, “and you are very important to me.” Another kiss, this time to Pete’s cheek. “You are my most important person, and if this is what you want in life, then I want it too.”

Pete opened his mouth a few times, closing it again, not finding anything to respond, until he finally surged up to capture Vegas’ lips, throwing his arms around the other man’s shoulders as he melted into the kiss.

- 3 -

Vegas loved Macau. He really did. He was happy that the little brat had gotten over their father’s death (and the following nightmare of carefully concealed threats against them) relatively unscathed, he loved that Macau had taken to Pete like a puppy to a guard dog, looking at him like he hung the moon, he even accepted that Macau’s way of forgiving him for the attempted suicide-by-being-shot-by-your-cousin–because-you-raided-his-home was being extra snarky and demanding attention almost non-stop. No, he really was grateful he still had a brother to torment, but right now he wished nothing more than for Macau to vanish. 

They had been living in the former safehouse for almost four months now, and the majority of this time was spent on simply living: doing mundane chores, going grocery shopping, reading, cooking, playing video games. It was everything Vegas – and Macau – had never experienced in their lives and so they both revelled in it, but that also meant that Vegas hadn’t had a prolonged period of time alone with Pete, and it showed. Right now, as they were sitting on the living room floor playing a board game, Pete’s hair mussed and fluffy from his earlier shower, his cheeks flushed with excitement, grinning widely, Vegas wanted nothing more than tear his clothes off with his teeth and ravish him right there on the carpet.

But he couldn’t, and so he endured yet another round of Macau cheerfully eliminating them in the game. Pete cried out in mock-despair, while Macau gave an evil laugh and collected his in-game money, when his phone buzzed behind him on the couch. With a start, he dropped his spoils and scrambled for his phone, reading the text, then levelled a careful glance at Vegas.

“Hia,” he began, sounding unsure, “would you be okay if I stayed the night at a friend’s? I know it’s still not perfectly safe, but I’ll take a bodyguard and–”

“Yes,” blurted Vegas, cutting Macau’s explanation short. Both his brother and his boyfriend had an amused expression on their faces as the former cleared his throat. “Alright then, I’ll grab a bag and call Jay.” He gave his brother another calculating look. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning?”

“Yes, yes,” Vegas waved a hand, “Text me when something comes up.”

With a nod and a badly hidden grin Macau left for his room. After a while they heard a car pull up, then Macau’s steps as he left in a hurry. Pete still hadn’t moved, looking at Vegas with an unreadable expression.

“What,” Vegas snapped, harsher than intended. Pete grinned knowingly. 

“Nothing,” he said, shifting slightly in his seat. “It’s just, normally you would insist on our safety and–”

He was interrupted as Vegas pounced on him, cushioning his fall with a hand on the back of Pete’s head, capturing his mouth in a bruising kiss. Pete huffed a laugh, then yielded into Vegas’ touch, who busied himself with rucking up Pete’s shirt to, finally, finally, touch his naked skin. Pete seemed equally impatient, hastily pulling his own shirt over his head to reveal his toned chest. Vegas leaned down to press a kiss to his clavicle, then stilled. Right in front of his nose, crossing one of the silvery scars he had left there...

“What,” he croaked hoarsely,” is that?”

Pete grinned. “A hedgehog. Do you like him?”

Vegas felt as if his brain had melted. Of all the things Pete could have chosen, of all the places he could have put that... Between the scars, tucked under Pete’s collarbone, sat a tiny hedgehog tattoo, nothing more than a smudge of ink in the living room's dim light. Pete watched him, looking for all the world like a satisfied cat, a pleased grin on his lips.

When Vegas couldn’t respond, he explained, “I thought, your hedgehog brought us together, in a way, so I wanted to commemorate him, and I know that you don’t like the scars, so I thought I’d add something else for you to focus on.”

Vegas swallowed hard. He didn’t like those scars, but only because he was the one who inflicted them, who caused Pete so much pain that he sometimes felt crushed by the guilt. Pete had forgiven him a long time ago, had said that Vegas hadn’t known what they would become for each other, that he was sure Vegas would never hurt him again, that he trusted him. And Vegas had cried, had apologised, had cried some more and wondered if he could forgive himself some day.

But now there was a little cartoon hedgehog, drawing his attention every time his eyes wanted to follow one of the silvery lines, and with a sob Vegas threw his arms around Pete, crushing his face into the other’s neck.

“Thank you,” he whispered, muffled by Pete’s skin. “Thank you so much.”

Pete smiled against his temple, pressing a kiss to his hair. “I love you.” 

- 4 -

The day had started like countless others, but by noon Vegas felt like crawling out of his skin. He was restless, his mind whirring, convinced there was something wrong, with Pete, with Macau, with both of them. After almost an hour of pacing the living area from the kitchen counter to the coffee table and back again, he caved and called Macau. Hearing his brother’s annoyed “What?” was a relief, even when he couldn’t quite explain why he had called, and so Macau had ended the call with a curse and a mumbled “Get a hobby.”

Pete had gone to the main family’s compound earlier and although he didn’t have to leave his phone anymore, he mostly was far too occupied with Khun’s antics and his former coworkers to respond to any text. Still, Vegas felt far too wired, so with a sigh he dialled Pete’s number. The call connected after two rings, a noise like static so loud Vegas had to hastily remove the phone from his ear, then the connection went out. A second try only reached Pete’s voicemail. Vegas stared at his phone, trying to breathe evenly despite his growing panic. Forcing himself to keep calm, he tried Kinn’s number, then Porsche’s, even Khun’s – all with the same result, the call going straight to voicemail. 

Vegas took a stumbling step back, collapsing onto the sofa. No. No, no, no. It couldn’t be, not now, not when...

His ringing phone interrupted his spiralling thoughts, and he scrambled to accept the call. Pete’s voice sounded distorted through the line, but Vegas felt a wave of relief sweep over him at the sound.

“Hey, love,” he heard, “we, um, we had an incident at the compound. Some idiots thought it was a good idea to scale the garden wall and open fire at the people sitting at the table.” He paused, obviously listening to something being said at his end that Vegas couldn’t understand, then continued, “Nobody was hurt, at least not on our side,” he huffed a dry laugh, “but Khun Korn is pissed and even Khun Tankhun is up in arms, it took a while to calm him down.” He paused again, and in the silence Vegas could hear his own racing heart. “I’ll be home in twenty minutes,” he said then, “Pol is driving me. We’re better not taking any risks at this point, even when Khun Kinn said it was the Italians.”

Vegas croaked an affirmation, then ended the call. He sat on the sofa in silence, until he heard the front door open, then Pete’s cheerful “See you later!”, before he walked into the living room. At the sight of Vegas he paused, then rushed towards him, kneeling in front of the sofa. 

“I’m sorry, love,” he said softly, brushing a strand of Vegas’ hair behind his ear. “I tried to call you immediately, but my phone broke when I dove for cover, and....” He trailed off as he saw Vegas wince and avert his gaze. With two fingers under his chin, he turned his face upwards again so their eyes met. “I’m alright,” he said, very carefully enunciating the words. “I wasn’t hurt. They didn’t even come for me,” he added with a note of wry amusement that Vegas didn’t feel. He still felt numb from the shock, all possibilities happening at the same time in his head, providing him with one horrible scenario after the other.

“I know,” he said eventually, “it’s just... If I hadn’t let you go there, then–”

“That wasn’t your call to make,” Pete interrupted him, voice still soft but with a hint of steel. “You don’t decide where I go, Vegas. Not anymore.”

That last part hit home, and Vegas suddenly found himself clutching at Pete’s shoulders, burying his face in his neck, breathing harshly.

“I know,” he rasped, “I know, but sometimes all I can think about is how I want to tie you to myself so you can never leave again, because one day you will, and it will kill me and–”

Pete’s grip on him tightened. “I won’t,” he said firmly, “never. I will never leave you, but I need you to trust me. You don’t need chains to keep me by your side, love.”

Vegas nodded, still desperately holding on to Pete.

After they both had calmed down, they had settled more comfortably onto the sofa, Vegas drawing something as Pete absently caressed his hair while reading a book. Vegas was so immersed in his little project that he didn’t notice at first that Pete’s ministrations had stopped, the other watching him intently.

“What are you drawing,” Pete asked after a while. 

Vegas hummed, then showed him the paper. Pete stayed quiet for so long that Vegas turned around. 

“It’s a tattoo idea I had,” he tried to explain, but Pete still didn’t reply. “It’s a chain,” he said eventually, making Pete frown.

“I can see that, but why...” He trailed off, looking conflicted and hurt.

Vegas hurried to explain, almost shoving the drawing in Pete’s face in his haste. “But it’s broken,” he said, pointing to the missing link. “It’s broken, because I will never put any kind of chains on you again.” Pete inhaled deeply, but didn’t say anything, so Vegas continued, “Also, it’s my chain. Because I was chained to my father’s legacy before I met you. You freed me, in a way, so this is a symbol for this.” He smiled slightly at Pete. “Also, look closely. There is a red thread replacing the missing link, because you were what I was missing. So, yeah, it’s a chain, but–”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence. Pete smiled radiantly at him, then leaned in to kiss him, his whole body melting into Vegas’ embrace.

- 5 -

If someone would have told Vegas a year ago that one day he would live with his brother and his boyfriend, raising a kid together, he probably would have laughed himself silly, then shot them for being insane. But here he was, rocking the freshly changed baby on one arm, while he tried to stir the pan with the other, softly cursing in the process. Macau was on his way home and he had excelled in a test the day before, so Vegas wanted to reward him with his favourite dish. That had been a good plan in theory, at least until Venice had woken up and begun to wail when he couldn’t find his favourite person – Vegas silently agreed that Pete deserved all the love – but that had put them in the kitchen together, since Pete had gone for a quick errand half an hour ago. So, with a still sniffling infant in his arms, Vegas tried to remember if the recipe required lemongrass or lime juice, as the door swung open to reveal a slightly dishevelled Pete and a red-cheeked Macau. 

Recognising his favourite dad, Venice gave a deafening squeal, trying to wriggle out of Vegas’ hold to get to his other parent faster. With a huff of dry laugh Vegas handed the delighted baby over. 

“Nobody appreciates me here,” he complained good-naturedly as he pressed a kiss to Pete’s grinning mouth. From the door, he heard Macau make a gagging sound, and so he deepened the kiss, just to annoy his brother a little. As he pulled back, Pete was fully laughing, shaking his head at their antics, as he parked the baby on his hip. 

“Are you finished with lunch?”, he asked, “Macau has something to show you.”

Vegas raised an eyebrow, then looked expectantly at his brother, who just shrugged, then grinned. With a shrug of his own Vegas turned back towards the kitchen to finish their meal.

After they had eaten their fill, with Macau’s loudly voiced appreciation, Vegas put down his chopsticks with emphasis, levelling a look at Macau, then Pete.

“So?”, he prompted, when nobody made a move.

Macau cleared his throat, looking to Pete, who in turn looked at Vegas, his expression soft and so fond Vegas had to avert his eyes for a moment.

“I have something for you,” Macau said finally, shifting in his chair. “I got it before you took Venice home, in the hospital, when...” He broke off, seeking Pete’s help. 

Pete nodded at him. “Maybe just show him.”

Macau inhaled, then reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small sheet of paper, sliding it over the table to his brother. Vegas took a look at it – and stopped breathing. In front of him, on a crumpled piece of notebook paper was a footprint. A tiny one, not longer than his index finger, printed in dark blue ink, showing every crease. There was a little smudge in one corner, as if the child had moved too early, and Vegas found himself stroking a tentative finger over the stain. His throat was tight, his eyes dangerously wet, so he hid his expression and didn’t look up.

Macau cleared his throat again, but this time Pete was the one to speak. “We thought,” he said slowly, “if you want, maybe we could get this tattooed. All of us,” he added after a pause. Vegas' gaze shot up, fixating him. 

Pete smiled brightly at him, nudging Macau’s shoulder as he stage-whispered, “I think he likes it.” Macau snorted, smiling equally widely. “I think he does,” he replied in the same tone.

Vegas stood up, closing the distance between them in two steps, pulling them both into a crushing hug. Into Macau’s hair he said, “He does.” and felt both their arms tighten around his shoulders.

- - - - -

I have Opinions about the fact that Pete's tattoo is a quote from Shakespeare's All's Well That Ends Well and the whole line is "The honour of a maid is her name; and no legacy is so rich as honesty."

That is the same play that gave us

- Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none. - That I should love a bright particular star, he is so above me. - The hind that would be mated by the lion must die for love. - Service is no heritage. - The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together. (which is the source of Pete's "there is no evil" speech imo)

Conclusion: Pete has canonically read Shakespeare and I will die on this hill 😂

[dreamy625]

Steve likes a Girl - one-shot

So I saw this picture and @lord-of-the-weird's observation that Steve is wearing a Girl t-shirt and the plot bunnies made me write this little ficlet.

Words: 1063

Content: Some swearing, casual drinking

-------------------------------

“Oi Clarky, why you wearing a girl’s shirt?”

Steve, who is trying to balance three pints, two bags of pork scratchings, and a packet of Marlboro Red and not trip on the holey carpet, glances up carefully. Oh great. Kev. Not the biggest yob from the old machine shop, but close. 

“It’s not a girl’s shirt.” he says evenly, knowing that an aggressive response or no response would both likely lead to trouble. 

“Says ‘Girl’ on it.”

“It’s a band.”

“Oh it’s a baaand is it? What kind of band has a name like that?”

Steve opens his mouth but nothing comes out.

“A poncey little pop band like you lot I bet?”

“N-no, it’s a rock band… like…” his brain skitters around desperately searching for the name of a band that will sound cool, “...the New York Dolls.” Uh oh. Wrong choice.

“Dolls?” Kev guffaws and elbows his equally tough-looking mate to join in.

Steve starts to edge backwards, “No… like… Queen… no, not them either… err…”

Kev stands up and takes a few menacing steps forwards. Then he grins, displaying a haphazard collection of brown teeth and gaps.

“Lucky for you the pool table’s just opened up so me ‘n’ Baz have got better things to do than provide further commentary on the topic of your sartorial elegance.” He makes a shooing gesture towards our dopey open-mouthed protagonist. “Go on, trot back to your sissy little friends.”

Finally, thankfully, Steve reaches the table and deposits the drinks with minimal spillage onto the already-sticky tabletop. Sliding into the booth he mutters, “Fuck’s sake. You’d think he’d’ve grown out of it by now.”

“You should just ignore him.”

“I’ve been trying to since we were fifteen.”

“D’you want me to beat him up?”

Steve mentally compares Joe’s tall but gangly frame with the hulking ape now lounging by the pool table. The odds don’t look favourable. “Nah, you’re alright.”

“Why are you still wearing that shirt? You nearly got thumped over it last week as well.”

“I like it.” mumbles Steve staring into his drink, “I like the band. The, um, guitars are good.”

“Okay mate, your funeral.” Joe says, shaking his head and tearing open the pork scratchings.

Steve nudges the third glass towards Sav who has been silently engrossed in an old copy of Sounds throughout the whole confrontation. He tilts his head to look at the cover, a picture of the Styx-branded tour plane.

“Your favourite band getting a bit above themselves aren’t they?” he teases.

Without looking up, the bassist raises his middle finger.

His bandmates snicker, then devote their attention to beer consumption. Finishing the cover story, Sav flicks on through the pages, stopping when he gets to the adverts and waving the magazine in Steve’s face. 

“Ooh look, your girly band are supporting Pat Travers next month. Maybe when Pete gets here you can convince him to go with you.”

-------------------------------

Pete, it turns out, is already planning on going to the gig, and even has a lift lined up to get to Manchester. He is, however, somewhat suspicious about his bandmate’s sudden new enthusiasm. 

“You don’t even like Pat Travers?”

“I do.” Steve protests.

“You don’t!” chorus the rest of the boys.

“You called him ‘jazzy’.”

“I did not.”

“You’re not coming if you’re just going to take the piss.”

“I won’t, I swear.” Steve crosses his heart with the most solemn and earnest expression he can muster.

“Oh alright.” He holds out his empty glass, “Get me another pint and you can come with me.”

He watches as Steve almost bounds across to the bar. “Weird.”

“He wants to see the support band. That lot we saw with UFO last month.”

“The ones in all the make-up? Bloody hell. Does he fancy the singer or something?”

Returning, Steve catches that last remark and proffers a stout denial along with the beer.

“Okay sweetie, calm down. Don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

Might be the lighting. Or the alcohol. But to Sav’s eye, Steve looks a little flushed. Hmmm.

-------------------------------

When, several weeks later, Sav asks Pete how the gig had gone, he gets a twenty minute monologue on the wonders of Pat’s guitar technique, plus the revelation that they’d hung out in the bar afterwards but Pat himself had failed to show. 

“Met those blokes from Girl though. Nice lads actually, not how you’d think from the whole…” he makes a pouty-faced model pose.

“I bet that made Steve’s day.”

“You’d’ve thought, but he just went a funny colour and shot off to the loo. Must’ve been too much beer. Had to go and hunt him down when it was time to go home. He bought another t-shirt though.”

-------------------------------

Having apparently learned from the previous hostile reactions to his wardrobe choices, Steve did not debut the new t-shirt until that summer when Girl happened to also be on the bill at the Reading Festival. Not that the other guys saw it, since the shirt and its wearer went AWOL for much of the day. The rest of the band had gone though the irritated muttering about unreliability phase and were now beginning to be genuinely concerned whether the errant guitarist would turn up for their set when, finally, a slightly frazzled Steve, wearing his stage gear but with shoelaces flapping and trying to tie his scarf while still in motion, scurried into the artists compound. 

“Where the bloody hell have you been?” demanded Joe, snappy as much from relief as anger.

“Sorrysorrysorry, I was watching, um, another band.”

“What, Budgie?”

“Err, no, Girl. You know, that group from London.”

“Oh, them again.”

“They’re really good. And then I, err, got chatting with… some of the guys… Phil… he’s the guitarist.”

“For two hours?”

“Uh huh.”

“Fine. Good. Well we’re up in a few minutes so get all your ends tied up.” He waves at the various bits of fabric trailing from Steve, then looks around distractedly, “Now where the fuck has Pete gone?”

As they make their way to the stage, Sav slows his steps until he’s walking beside Steve, ambling along at the back as usual. 

“So you actually spoke to him this time then?”

Steve gives a nervous laugh, “Um, yeah? Course.”

“Is that lipstick?”

“No!” retorts Steve, sounding affronted but rubbing the back of his hand across his mouth and blushing bright pink!  

[swanimagines]

DIALOGUE PROMPT LIST (PICK 1-2)

A REMINDER: IN MY BLOG, PROMPT FIC REQUESTS ARE FOR PEOPLE WHO

a) don't have ideas but want to request

b) want to be surprised with what I'll cook up

In other words, if you have a plot in mind, send it instead, without a prompt. You can also send both in separate asks, which would result in two fics.

Absolutely NO plot, just the prompt, the character + the fandom, please. Also don’t send all your requests in the same ask, one ask per request! With dialogue prompts, you can send 1-2 prompts per request!!

Also, don't tell me who you want to say the prompt. That's up to me too, any guidelines like that might mess up my own ideas which results in loss of quality. The only guidelines you're allowed to tell me is who the reader is to the character (best friend, romantic partner etc) and you can also ask the reader to be a female if you don't want them to be gn. (I currently do not do specified male reader, sorry... gn is the best I can do for you guys)

LIST A - GENERAL & FUNNY

A1. “Can I take a picture of you?”

A2. “Where do we sleep now?”

A3. “Be quiet, they’ll hear us!”

A4. “I cooked for us! Or tried to cook…”

A5. “Can you explain why my [object] is up there?”

A6. “Ugh, people are so weird.”

A7. “Wait, who?”

A8. “But I can’t draw!”

A9. “Your forehead has sauce on it.”

A10. “Stop snoring! You sound like a chain saw.”

A11. “C’mon, you need a reason to get out of here and I have one.”

A12. “No, nooope. I won’t do it. Nope.”

A13. “Do you mean I have to touch that?”

A14. “Wow, a great idea, but I’d rather die.”

A15. “Oh there you are! I thought you had melted through the floor.” “I had plans to do that but then I called them off.”

A16. “I’m trash, just not that kind of trash.”

A17. “Always nagging, aren’t you? Every time I hear your voice, it’s in a language called nag.”

A18. “It’s 6pm, the fridge is mine until 7pm, so… shoo!”

A19: “What’s this?” “I bought you binoculars because now you get to look at them better… or you could go talk to them.”

A20. “I’m gonna hit you.” “What?” “Ugh, that came out wrong.”

A21. “I’m okay. I’m perfectly fine. Yeah… okay, I’m not fine.”

A22. “If you wait for tomorrow, tomorrow is coming. If you don’t wait for tomorrow, tomorrow is still coming.”

A23. “I’m not yelling, I’m discussing with you with a loud voice!”

A24. “Tell me something. Do I look like a bunny?”

A25. “Maybe that secret is that your mom is really a time traveler.”

A26. “Too bad, I wanted to see some ghosts.”

A27. “Not that song, turn it off now!”

A28. “Is this Heaven?” “More like Hell.”

A29. “Hey keep it down there, I’m trying to sleep!”

A30. “Please don’t use my toothbrush again.”

A31. “Hey, calm down, it’s not so bad…” “Calm down? There’s a riot going on in my bathroom!”

A32. “It’s alright to be a bit crazy. At least a minute of craziness in a day keeps the doctor away.”

A33. “I thought you had left.” “I’d leave without tasting this sandwich? It would be a sign of insanity.”

A34. “The Great King/Queen/Ruler of Food is here again.”

A35. “What can I do… they just love Mr. Bunny.”

A36. “Wait, do we have a permission to do this?”

A37. “As long as that is on my wall, I swear I’m not going to sleep.”

A38. “Pillows? Pfft. Who needs pillows?”

A39. “That’s what you get for being such a dummy.”

A40. “You really need a haircut.”

A41. “You should keep that to yourself.”

A42. “Oh, how could I not say yes to that?”

A43. “Hi and bye!”

A44. “Well, what did you expect?”

A45. “Kick that door down.”

A46. “I’m not drunk!”

A47. “That’s not a stupid idea, it’s an idiotic idea.”

A48. “You’re the type of person who laughs at their own jokes.”

A49. “Oh, I didn’t know you had guests.”

A50. “Oh, are you looking for [name]? They’re probably setting themselves on fire right now.”

A51. “Don’t be scared.”

A52. “Did you just smile?”

A53. “Would you wanna go for a walk?”

A54. “My lights are flickering, it’s the infamous Ghost of the Living Room.”

A55. “This cookie is my spirit animal.”

A56. “Don’t be boring, dance with us!”

A57. “You should keep that candy behind locked doors. I might eat the whole bag otherwise.”

A58. “What’s your password?”

A59. “My backyard is not a waterpark.”

A60. “I think you should talk to them.”

A61. “I wish we had more time to chat.”

A62. “You’re smiling.”

A63. “Do you even know how to laugh?”

A64. “Well, it’s busted, no can do.”

A65. “I know what you think.”

A66. “At least I smell good.”

A67. “It happened a long time ago.”

A68. “What exactly should I be looking at?”

A69. “Why your shirt was in my fridge?”

A70. “Argh, don’t you guys ever use Google?”

A71. “I think you’re overreacting.”

A72. “Do you like board games?”

A73. “But it’s so cold!”

A74. “You should really learn to read some books.”

A75. “Wait, I know where your pants are.”

A76. “There’s no one there, dumbass.”

A77. “A fly has been harassing me for weeks.”

A78. “Be honest, do I have to keep this shirt?” “No?” “Dammit!”

A79. “Not my kid, not my responsibility.” “It’s a dog!” “No, it’s your kid.”

A80. “Sorry, I’ll be late.” “Why is that?” “A cat has been sleeping on me for an hour.”

A81. “I’m still bored.”

A82. “I recognize liars when I see them.”

A83. “Well, books usually have text on them.”

A84. “This is a perfect day to piss [Name] off.”

A85. “Get me their phone. Then we’ll talk.”

A86. “Because you’re so young.”

A87. “Hello, I am your servant today, what can I get you, oh Almighty?”

A88. “Why are you hiding?”

A89. “Why are we hiding?”

A90. “Why you would wanna live in a dumpster?”

A91. “It’s snowing!”

A92. “They’re late. Again.”

A93. “My bathroom smells like someone put a fish into my toilet.”

A94. “Don’t tempt me.”

A95. “You know how much I like chocolate.”

A96. “Stand back, this might get ugly.”

A97. “I can’t believe the way you got yourself arrested.”

A98. “Wait - did you just agree with me?”

A99. “Nah, dying would have been boring.”

A100. “Can’t you have fun for once in your life?”

A101. “C’mon, admit it! You’re having fun.”

A102: “It’s time for a roadtrip!”

A103: “Mmm, let's just say no promises.”

A104: “What did you do with my food?”

A105: "You look like you just saw the Bigfoot and the Yeti on a dinner date."

LIST B - ROMANCE, FLUFF, HURT/COMFORT & FRIENDSHIP

B1. “You’re being shy with me, aren’t you…” “No I’m not!” “Yes you are!”

B2. “You make me feel free.”

B3. “You’re cute when you try not to blush.”

B4. “I might be having feelings for you, I’ve had them for a while.” “Yeah right.” “I’m serious.”

B5. “It’s true. I’ve loved you ever since I got to know you - and even if you don’t feel the same, I’m willing to accept it.”

B6. “What if I told you that there’s a surprise for you outside?”

B7. “Everything is okay now, I’m here, I’m here.”

B8. “My world was black before you came into it.”

B9. “Did you do all this… for me?”

B10. “Did you really think I’d leave without a kiss?”

B11. “I didn’t know there’s a feeling like this.”

B12. “You’re the first person who has understood me.”

B13. “I’m not the person you want in your life.” “Yes you are.”

B14. “People change. And I’m not who I was before. I’m sorry for what I did.”

B15. “Do you… maybe, want to go to grab a coffee with me sometime?”

B16. “I really like you! Uh… I didn’t mean to blurt it out like that.”

B17. “I know this isn’t very romantic, but…” “It’s romantic enough for me.”

B18. “I’m not like everyone else, you deserve someone better.” “There isn’t anyone better for me than you.”

B19. “What are you doing?” “Showing you how much I love you.”

B20. “Will you make me happy forever?”

B21. “I didn’t know you’re ticklish… this is going to be fun.”

B22. “Your bed could be more comfortable than me.” “Nah, I’m good.”

B23. “You guys are so cheesy it’s disgusting.” “Why, thank you!”

B24. “Can I sleep with you? I need someone by my side.”

B25. “You’re so warm…” “You’re so cold.” “Mmh, that’s why I like your warmth.”

B26. “You’re special to me.”

B27. “Are those my… aaargh gimme those back!”

B28. “I’ve been gathering my courage to talk to you for so long and now… I did it.”

B29. “It’s obvious you like them.”

B30. “Crushing hard, huh?”

B31. “This is the place we first met. And now here we are, years later.”

B32. “Awww, is this you?” “Gimme that!” “No! You’re so cute, look at those pants!”

B33. “You cleaned my house for me while I slept?”

B34. “Wait, did you just call me cute?”

B35. “You’re my only friend, but you’re also the best person in the world.”

B36. “I’ve been in love with you all this time.”

B37. “I care about you, maybe more than I should.”

B38. “Because I love you, you idiotic mufflehead!”

B39. “Honestly, I didn’t believe in strong friendships before I met you.”

B40. “Maybe that’s the reason why we’re friends. You’re as dumb as me.”

B41. “Is that a blush I see?”

B42. “Do you want to go out with me?”

B43. “We’re friends, you can tell me anything.”

B44. “You look like you need a friend.”

B45. “Ah, ah, no tickling! Or no kisses.”

B46. “I made you dinner.”

B47. “I lit up candles and everything, you deserve to relax.”

B48. “You want it, I’ll get it. Don’t try to stop me.”

B49. “You’re the only one that makes me go cheesy.”

B50. “Here, take my umbrella.”

B51. “I think I’m in love… with you.”

B52. “You bought roses for me?”

B53. “Dance with me.”

B54. “Marry me.”

B55. “Babe, we’ll travel the world together.”

B56. “I’ve talked to you once and I already know I’m going to fall in love with you.”

B57. “I heard [name] has a crush on you.”

B58. “You look amazing.”

B59. “Best friends will stand together, even through the harshest of waves.”

B60. “I’ll continue doing this until you smile.”

B61. “Can I hug you?”

B62. “I have always loved you.”

B63. “Don’t worry, you look beautiful/handsome.”

B64. “Your flirting is so bad it’s adorable.”

B65. “Do you have to get up? I was just getting comfy.”

B66. “Stooooop, you’re making me blush!”

B67. “Uh-uh, I won’t let you leave without a hug.”

B68. “I’ll be watching over you.”

B69. “I bought you chocolate.”

B70. “I dreamed about kissing you.”

B71. “You’re my best friend, and always will be.”

B72. “Am I dreaming or did you just say you like me?”

B73. “Your smile is beautiful.”

B74. “Have I ever told you how cute you are?”

B75. “I’m with you. I’m home.”

B76. “I would have never believed that one day we’d be so close.”

B77. “We’re friends, right? Friends stick together.”

B78. “I’ll always be here, whenever you need me.”

B79. “You smell nice.”

B80. “I’ve loved you since day one.”

B81. “You built a pillow fort for us?”

B82. “You saved me.”

B83. “You always manage to make me laugh.”

B84. “Thank you for being there for me.”

B85. “Why do you care?” “Because I love you!”

B86. “Do you think of me as a friend?”

B87. “I think I have feelings for them.”

B88. “I’ve tried to forbid myself from falling in love, but now I can’t help it.”

B89. “I can’t believe we’re still friends. I thought we’d grow past the fart joke part.” “What, fart jokes are the best!”

B90. “Good morning, want some breakfast?”

B91. “I’ve missed you so much.”

B92. “Are you cold? Here, take my jacket.”

B93. “I’m gonna dare you to kiss [Name].”

B94. “Oh my god, you like [Name]!”

B95. “They’re in love with you.” “Oh shut it.” “I wish you noticed how they look at you.”

B96. “Breakfast in bed? You’re spoiling me.”

B97. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you.”

B98. “Nobody is perfect. That’s what makes you special.”

B99. “I want you to be happy. You’re worth it.”

B100. “I don’t know how, but you always make me feel happy.”

B101. “What did I do to deserve you?”

B102: “I’ve never seen something as beautiful as you.”

B103: “Can’t you see that? They obviously have feelings for you!”

B104: “I never stopped loving you.”

B105: "Let's not get out of bed just yet."

LIST C - ANGST, SAD & ANGRY

C1. “I don’t want to feel anything anymore.”

C2. “I was there… and I didn’t do anything. I’m never forgiving myself for that.”

C3. “It’s none of your business.” “It’s my business if you cry because of me.”

C4. “Let go.” “I can’t.”

C5. “Leave. I don’t want you here.”

C6. “I never loved you.”

C7. “You were never there for me.”

C8. “You did that choice. Not me. You’re in this alone.”

C9. “You left me!”

C10. “It’s time you got to know how it feels to be betrayed.”

C11. “You appreciate some people only after they’re gone.”

C12. “I was willing to stay here with you until the end, but it was you who told me to stay away.”

C13. “No, you don’t have the right to come back to me and pretend that everything is okay again!”

C14. “You disgust me.”

C15. “Fine. If this is how it’s gonna be, then fine. I’m leaving you.”

C16. “They’re not coming back.”

C17. “I failed you. I failed everyone.”

C18. “You’re not worth it.”

C19. “How dare you stand there and tell me you still love me?”

C20. “I was an idiot to ever trust you.”

C21. “I can’t move on, and I don’t want to.”

C22. “I’m disgusted with myself that I once thought of you as my friend.”

C23. “They were my everything, and now they’re gone.”

C24.  “It was you who broke our promise.”

C25.  “You’re my friend.” “I have better friends than you ever were.”

C26.  “I honestly want to set you on fire right now.”

C27.  “There’s no one else to blame anymore, you made sure of it. It’s all on you now.”

C28. “I feel like there’s nothing waiting for me anymore.”

C29. “Tell me I’m wrong. Just say it.”

C30. “I love you, but I wish I didn’t.”

C31. “I hope you grow up one day. But I’m not going to be there to see it.”

C32. “What if I’m in too many pieces now to fix myself again?”

C33. “And here I thought that you’d keep your promises for once.”

C34. “Goodbye. Don’t come back.”

C35. “If this is love, I don’t want it.”

C36. “No one ever stays, no one ever cares about me.”

C37. “Please, make it stop…”

C38. “It just feels like I can never let go… even if I try.”

C39. “I love them too much. And that always makes me go tumbling down the hill.”

C40. “I can’t do this anymore.”

C41. “Fuck you! Get out of my house!”

C42. “You’re not welcome here.”

C43. “Don’t expect me to fix things you broke.”

C44. “You always lie to me.”

C45. “Could you try stopping thinking like a machine and listen with your heart?”

C46. “I’ve never felt like this about anyone, but with you? I hope life will be torn apart on you.”

C47. “I wish you nothing but pain.”

C48. “I can’t take this any longer.”

C49. “You were my best friend, and you let me down.”

C50. “Forgive you? How could I ever forgive you for what you did?”

C51. “Don’t you dare close your eyes!”

C52. “I can’t feel the pulse.”

C53. “I can’t believe how I ever was friends with such a toxic person.”

C54. “Everything reminds me about them. I just want to forget them, wipe them out from my life.”

C55. “I’ll be happy once you’re gone.”

C56. “Don’t give me those crocodile tears.”

C57. “You’re wrong, I have never loved you.”

C58. “Go to hell!”

C59. “I want you gone. Now.”

C60. “Oh, now my opinion matters? I wish we had never met!”

C61. “I’ll always hate you.”

C62. “You broke the promise. Again.”

C63. “I’d punch you if you were worth it.”

C64. “Nothing has changed in you, even when I wanted to believe so.”

C65. “Let go of me!”

C66. “Don’t touch me, you filthy scum!”

C67. “You did a bad thing for a good reason.” “But is it worth it if they died because of me?”

C68. “We’d/We’ll never get our happy ending.”

C69. “You’re never changing, are you? Always a dickhead.”

C70. “You’d never understand.”

C71. “I’m dying.”

C72. “I loved you years ago. But that feeling is long gone.”

C73. “I’m happier without you.”

C74. “I don’t even know who you are anymore, how do you expect me to love you?”

C75. “You abandoned me when I needed you the most.”

C76. “Do you think you could just magically waltz back into my life after everything you did?”

C77. “I waited for you for years before I finally found someone who won’t abandon me like you did, and now you come back and think we could be together again?”

C78. “There won’t be “us” anymore.”

C79. “You’ve lied to me all this time.”

C80. “I’m a monster.”

C81. “You’re a monster.”

C82. “Don’t hurt me!”

C83. “I’m leaving you.”

C84. “Please don’t go.”

C85. “I’ll never forgive you.”

C86. “No no no no, stay awake! Please!”

C87. “I don’t want to lose you too.”

C88. “Walk away and don’t come back, or I’ll fucking kill you.”

C89. “We need to get to the hospital!”

C90. “I know you hate me.”

C91. “Oh, so that’s what you think of me?”

C92. “I’m going to sleep on couch tonight.”

C93. “It’s my fault they’re dead.”

C94. “Don’t give me that bullshit, I know what happened!”

C95. “Give me one reason why we should still be together.”

C96. “If you had ever loved me, you wouldn’t have put everything else above me.”

C97. “You said you’d support me with this, but here we are.”

C98. “Why are you even here anymore? Just leave!”

C99. “I’ll be forgotten.”

C100. “Death doesn’t let you say goodbye.”

C101. “I’m not going to trust you ever again.”

C102: “I can’t forgive him/her/them.”

C103: “I’ll never forgive you.”

C104: “You used to be the kindest person I know, and now… I don’t recognize you anymore.”

C105: "Your feelings? How about my feelings? Did you ever think about them?"

[justash02]

My hero.

Pairing; non idol!jungkook x reader

Plot; when being harassed by an old creepy guy you have a lot of things that you can do, so why not pretend that a boy passing by was your boyfriend?

Find all my k-pop related work here -> masterlist

Requests; are open! Please let me know if you have any :) I would love to make them for you(⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃

A/n; I was originally going to make this a soobin x reader but JK needs to get the love he deserves and more (ง'̀-'́)ง

Warning; just slightly sexualizing of girls, which happens way to often, I literally can’t even go out without my ass being touched- for the rest it’s just pure fluff I guess.

*^*^*

“Please y/n/n! It will be fun!” Dan-I said as she practically begged, “No, last time we both went you left me all on my own, if you’re just going to leave me you might as well just go on your own.”

She pouted as she leaned backwards against the red couch, she lets out a loud and irritating sigh as she continued to sending me looks, she has been begging for me to go with her to this weird ass party, people will be drinking alcohol, doing drugs, and much more that I don’t wanna know about.

“Y/n, you don’t understand, maybe you can finally find a cute boy that isn’t only into you for you body.” She spoke, I felt my heart skip a beat as the words fell out of her mouth, “What?” I barely got out, her eyes widened as she quickly shook her head, she just fucked up.

She opened her mouth to say something but I was quick to cut her off, “You’re telling that all my ex boyfriends were using me, and you knew all along without even telling me?” I felt my face burn with anger as I stared at her, I could tell she felt intimidated by my glance as she constantly looked away not won’t meet my eyes.

I scoffed and grabbed my purse, “Fuck you, seriously.” I stood up not letting her say another thing as I walked over to the exit, I heard her call after me but I paid no mind to it.

I can’t believe the only friend that I really trusted turned out to be like the others, my vision became blurry as I felt the pit of my stomach burn as the memories once again filled my head. The memories of the way that my exes treated me.

Soon angry tears ran down my face as more thoughts filled my head making it hard to concentrate on my surroundings so it was no surprise that I bumped into a person.

Softly apologize because I didn’t trust my voice, I walked away but a rough and strong hand grabbed onto my wrist, almost in a painful grip. I quickly looked back at the man and immediately felt intimidated.

His rough black hair and tall ass figure was not something to miss with, I felt my throat tightened as he started smirking creepily.

“Are you lost, baby girl? A pretty girl like you isn’t suppose to be crying.” disgust was felt through out my entire body as the man pulled me closer, “Excuse me, I’m waiting for... uhh- I’m waiting for my boyfriend, yeah, he’s coming to meet me here-“ The words stutter out of my mouth in hopes that he would let me go but even I knew that that wouldn’t happen.

He smirked as if he didn’t believe me and started running it hand up my arm as chills were send down my body, my mind immediately went into survival as I thought about the things that this man could do to me, he didn’t look like someone who listens to the word “no.”

I quickly looked around, not a lot of people were here but a group of boys caught my eye, and they were coming my way, how fortunate. “Hey babe!” I said as one of the boys that walked in the front looked my way, my voice was just as desperate at my look was as he looked at the situation I was in.

The man quickly lost his grip on my as he saw the amount of friends he had with him, the rest of the guys watched as the attractive young man came walking to me, his arm instantly wrapped around my schoulder.

I felt my face burn as I smelled how good his after shave was, I can’t believe this attractive ass guy is hugging me AHH-

“Why are you crying, baby? Don’t tell me this man was bothing you.” He cooed out softly before his glance hardened on the man, before I could open my mouth I was interrupted by the creep.

“Of course not! I-I saw the pretty girl crying and only wanted a-ask what was wrong.” The boy hummed, “If I see you talking to my girl again, I’ll make sure you’ll never see again.” He threatens which was very helpful as the man quickly ran away. My girl...

As soon as the creep was out of sight some of his friends came running over to him, “Woah, jungkook-ah! You totally looked like you could star in a drama!” A shorter male said to his friend, as I looked at all of them I felt insecure by how attractive they are, they could easily be idols-

“Are you ok?” An older looking guy asked as he noticed my tear stained cheeks, the boy- I mean Jungkook turned around and slowly reaches over to wipe my tears, I felt myself smile without even being under control of it as he did the same.

Soon he realized what he was doing and quickly pulled away and he speed walked over to one of his friend and buried his face in the curve of his neck.

I felt the urge to coo at the sight but suppressed that feeling, “Sorry, Jungkook’ not really used to being around cute girls like you.” I shook my head as yet another blush crossed against my face.

Jungkook shooed his hyungs away and walked back to me, he smiled softly as he saw the blush forming on my cheeks.

“Can I see your phone.” He asked, his sudden bold question catch me off guard but I decided that I would just do what he asked, he literally just saved my life.

He started typing around in the phone and soon gave it back to me, his bunny smile made him look even more adorable as he waited for me to look at my phone.

He just gave me his number- no way! AHH- “I think you’re really cute, I normally don’t give my phone number to a lot of people so consider yourself special.” He said playfully, suddenly his friend called him saying that they needed to go to class.

“That’s my cue, text me when you get home?” He asked, I just nodded as he suddenly leaned down to kiss my cheek, my eyes widened as he did.

He lets out a fit of giggles before running back to his friend who waved me goodbye.

I smiled and took a look at my phone again, “my hero☺️” was saved under jungkooks phone number, and I couldn’t have picked it better...

*^*^*

I know this was shit, trust me😂

[erraticrandomficwriter]

A Lost Boys Plot Bunny:

The Night Stalker’s Moon - Part 1

A Werewolf hadn’t crossed the town line into Santa Carla ever since the agreement between the Werewolves and Vampires was put in place to outline their territories. This agreement – this treaty, so to speak – was put in place for more reasons than one. It was put in place to not only keep the peace between the species, but to keep certain members of their species apart. 

There hadn’t been a transgression since the treaty’s creation until the unthinkable happened – history repeated. A history that the treaty was supposed to prevent from happening – A small group of Vampires turned a young runaway from Luna Bay – the Werewolves’ territory. Now while the Vampires did not technically break the treaty, the Werewolves took it as an act of aggression towards it and they would not stand for that. 

This is where Lycandra – known as Andie to the humans – comes into play. She is a Luna Bay Werewolf and a Santa Carla native. Andie was the first to volunteer but given her history with Santa Carla the elder Wolves were reluctant to let her go, but in the end, they determined that perhaps sending her would be the best. After all, it was history that had repeated, and she had learned from her own. 

Lycandra’s orders were simple; find the young boy Laddie, determine if he is savable or not and act accordingly. She convinced the elder Wolves to let her go alone because a lone Wolf would be harder for the Vampires to sense than a Pack. 

Little did any of them know Lycandra’s history would inevitably get in the way of their plans…

As the cab crossed the town line into Santa Carla, ‘The Murder Capital of the World’, Lycandra felt her hair stand on end. It was if half of every fiber of her being was telling her to head for the hills and the other half was pulling her further in. It had been so long since she’d been there but hadn’t forgotten a thing. Despite her recollections of the past, she pushed them from her mind. Lycandra was there for one thing and one thing only – repeating her part of the history was not part of it. 

Lycandra watched the familiar scenery pass her by and how different it had all become. Not only had the buildings evolve and the storefronts change, but the residents as well. Of course, Lycandra was familiar with the culture of the time and knew what to expect, but seeing it in play within a town she hadn’t seen in so long was odd for her, and it wasn’t until the cab pulled up in front of a house that she removed her sunglasses and placed them on top of her blonde head. 

Lycandra rolled down her window in the back of the cab and leaned out of it to take a look around. This place looked like a deserted flea market had exploded and was left to let nature take its course. “Oh, Emerson,” she said to herself, “trying to be the town crazy, are we?”

 Lycandra turned her attention away from the scene around her when the cabbie spoke, 

“This is it. You sure a young thing like you wants to get out in a town like this?” 

Lycandra paid the fare with a, “Why wouldn’t I? This is the murder capital of the world, isn’t it? I’ll fit right in.” She smiled and flashed her yellow eyes that at him that returned to normal in a blink of an eye before getting out of the cab to get her bags from the trunk. It didn’t surprise her that the cabbie didn’t get out to help her and it amused her as he sped away the second after she closed the trunk. 

With an amused expression upon her face, she went down the drive the rest of the way and paused when she found an unconscious appearing Emerson lying upon the porch. Lycandra dropped her bags with a bit of a huff and went over to him. She crossed her arms and waited for him to make a move, but when he didn’t, she greeted him with, “You’re not drunk or dead. I don’t smell any liquor or decomposition. A mere human would find your presentation of playing dead rather convincing, however.” 

Emerson opened his eyes and sat up in disbelief because this was not the person he was expecting. “Lycandra? What in the devil’s name are you doing here?”

Lycandra sat on the porch step beside him. “A letter was sent, Emerson. It’s all in there.” 

Emerson recalled receiving a letter with the Lunar Seal upon it, but he didn’t bother reading the contents. “I don’t look at anything with the Seal anymore. I haven’t for decades. So, I will ask again. What are you doing here, Lycandra? You’re not supposed to be here or have the terms changed?” 

Lycandra took her sunglasses from upon her head and put them on with a sighed, “No, you’re right. I’m not supposed to be in Santa Carla, but the Vampires fired the first shot. They turned a runaway from Luna Bay, and we can’t stand for that. I’m here to rectify the situation – whatever that entails.” 

Emerson muttered, “Damn Vampires,” before speaking clearly. “I don’t want no Wolf trouble, Lycandra. I got my daughter and grandsons coming and they know about none of this.” 

“It’s Andie for the time being. Lycandra is far too obvious.” She made sure to address that first before getting to her other point “And you’re seriously letting them come here? That is a recipe for disaster, Emerson.” 

He knew she was right about that, but an idea came to his mind in that moment. “Not if you keep an eye on them for me.” Before Lycandra could argue, he continued. “They don’t know nothing about what goes on around here or in Luna Bay.” 

Lycandra had caught what he said before about his family, but it didn’t really sink in until he brought up Luna Bay. “Wait…wait. They don’t know anything about their bloodline – their goddamn birthright?” 

“I am not arguing my decisions with you, Lycandra. If you want to stay under my roof, then you will obey my rules. You’re in my territory now.” Emerson knew he had her there. 

Andie grumbled a bit but agreed. “Fine,” she seethed is frustration. “I will keep my mouth shut and keep an eye out, but my mission comes first. I will not stray from that.” 

Emerson accepted the compromise. “Good. Now there are other rules while you are under my roof…” 

Before he could state what they were, Lycandra said, “Don’t touch your root beer and stay out of your room?” She grinned at his scoffed chuckle. “We’ve known each other for a long time, Emerson. You may be an old man now, but I still know you.” Despite the fact that Lycandra looked to be in her late teens, early twenties at the latest she was far older than she appeared. 

Emerson didn’t agree to nor deny with that fact. Instead, he shooed her off into the house. “Take the downstairs guest room. Now shoo before my family arrives and you ruin my presentation.” 

Lycandra got up with a slight shake to her head so she could get her bags from the ground. When she turned around to head into the house, Emerson was already back to playing dead, so she had to step over him. “Very convincing,” she stated flatly as she moved over him and went into the house. 

Her eyes widened slightly as she returned her sunglasses to the top of her head. “Good lord, I stepped into a Texas Chainsaw Massacre movie.” To say the design was very…hunting lodge rustic would be an understatement. The sights were only overshadowed by the smells coming from the taxidermy room attached to the living room. She had no intention of investigating that, so she went straight to the guest room to drop off her bags. 

What she did, though, was take her camera from her bag and head out the back door. Lycandra needed to document things around the house just in case she ever needed to put anything to use.

—————————————————————————–

Lycandra was out there for a bit and didn’t head back to the house until a Huskey dog ran over to her and started barking like man. She simply turned around and crouched down in front of the canine to flash her yellow eyes at them as she held out her hand to show she meant no harm. The dog then sniffed her hand before licking it then took off to chase after some horses further down in the field. 

Lycandra made her way up the house and entered the back door just as she heard the voice of a teenage boy ask Emerson about living in the murder capital of the world. “I wouldn’t say it was the capital, but pretty close to it.” She introduced herself to the brothers before Emerson could. “I’m Andie, and you must be the grandsons I’ve heard about.” 

Michael was the first to step forward to reply. “Hey, I’m Michael and this annoying fella is my little brother Sam.” 

“Are you living here, too?” Sam asked since his grandfather hadn’t said anything about her. 

Lucy, Emerson’s daughter, had a question about that as well. “You didn’t mention there was a young girl living here.” She turned to Andie, “Who are you again?” 

“This is my house, and I can have whoever I want living here.” Emerson made that clear before addressing concerns about Lycandra – about Andie. “Now Andie is…the granddaughter of an old friend of mine. She needs a place to stay for some time so the downstairs bedroom is hers and that’s the last I will address of it.” 

Emerson made his way to his taxidermy room while saying to his grandsons, “Andie will tell you the rest of the rules,” before he closed the double doors behind him. 

Lucy wasn’t too keen on the idea of the young woman staying there but her father laid down the law, so she just smiled and said, “It’s lovely to meet you, Andie,” then brought some more boxes upstairs. 

Andie didn’t get the chance to say anything else before Sam picked up the TV Guide from the table and asked her, 

“Grandpa actually has a TV?” 

“No,” she informed him based on past memory, “he just likes reading the guide.” Andie gestured to the taxidermy room. “Make sure to stay out of there, and if you’ll excuse me, I have some unpacking to do.” 

“Need any help with that?” Michael offered, especially since it wasn’t every day he’d be living in the house with a woman who wasn’t his mother. 

Andie was so not interested for more reasons than one, but played along by saying, “Now, Michael, you’re gonna have to work harder than that to get into my bedroom.” She placed her sunglasses back over her eyes and walked away, leaving a laughing Sam in her wake.

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End Part 1

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haracter: Either Kirishima or Tamaki, or both? Whoever you think suits this best. Genre: Fluff/comfort?? Conflict: I’ve been feeling recalling down about myself recently. My muscles are going away and I feel like I’m gaining like..a lot of weight. I don’t like looking at myself. Sorry if that was like a lot, but..you know lol Plot: reader is having trouble being comfortable in her/their body, kirishima and/or Tamaki notices and tries to comfort to the best of his ability. Thank you!! 🥰💖

Kirishima and Tamaki comforting their s/o who dislikes/isn't comfortable with their body

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting! While making this, I kinda relate to this hehe so it was fun to do it. Sorry if it was short by the way. The first draft I made didn't save because of tumblr and I'm so upset that I had to calm my self first.

Kirishima Eijirou

At first, he didn't know why you aren't proud of your body. This baby would even make a list of reasons why you should love your body. He wants you to see just how beautiful you are inside and out.

Whenever you go outside and someone speaks about your body, he would immediately scold them about how unmanly it is to talk about someone's body and shoo them off.

If he sees you eyeing or squeezing any part of your body with that look on your face, he would immediately stop you from your thoughts and would distract you about your body.

If you want to, he would come with you to the gym to accompany you while doing some work outs.

He doesn't like it when you don't eat just for the sake of loosing weight. He doesn't get the point why one would starve themselves just to loose weight.

I mean, it's ok if you eat healthy and work out, but not eating lunch or just eating a piece of bread for breakfast? Nu uh. It's a big no no for him. He would do anything just to make you eat something more.

One day, he suggested you two order pizza while watching a movie.

"Just order for you, Kiri. I won't eat pizza, just a bowl of salad is enough."

He deadass looked at you with wide eyes and looked at you weirdly.

"What? Sweetheart, I know you're conscious about your body, but will a bowl of grass make you full? No."

You laughed at what he said.

"I mean, It's ok if you want to eat some salad, but not if you only ate a piece of bread amd a milk this morning!"

In the end, he gets you to eat two slices of pizza. But with a whole ass long of convincing you in the process.

Whenever you don't feel confident about your looks and body, he would always kiss every part of your body to make you feel just how much he loves you.

Tamaki Amajiki

This baby would be so upset the moment you said that you don't like your body and that you are gaining weight and is becoming fat.

Just like Kirishima, he doesn't know why you don't like your body when you are already perfect for him.

If he ever saw you staring at your body with that look of you like you want to disappear, he would always give you a back hug and kiss your cheeks, murmuring about how he love you and everything about you.

But he would also scold you later.

If anyone would comment about your body in a bad way, he would instantly glare at them to shut them up though he won't use force.

When he found out that you were not eating a proper meal everyday to loose weight, he scold you big time ranting abkut how important it is to eat a proper meal to stay healthy.

Starting from that day on wards, he always make sure he's the one cooking your food and is always reminding you to eat. He would also track down your food intake to make sure you eat a decent food everyday.

He would support you if you want to diet, but would never allow you to eat just a cereal and a milk every morning and an energy bar during lunch.

He also makes sure that everything he would cook for you would be a healthy one to help you loose weight.

Though he prefers you to not change your body because you're already beautiful to him.

Would accompany you to jog every morning and would be the one to wake you up everyday.

When you want to wear a type of clothes but isn't confident wearing it, he would always remind you that whatever you wear, you will always be beautiful in his eyes and no one can change that.

"Bunny, trust me. You will look so good if you wear that."

Would encourage you to wear it but will never force you to if you really don't want to.