#the fact that throwing the dead cat out of his bag powers him up
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reanimator fandom can we talk abt this
i like how everyone else is a real scary looking murder monster and herberts just. a twink with a bag
#why is this so cute#the fact that he comes in on a gurney#the fact that throwing the dead cat out of his bag powers him up#him using Hill as a weapon#fuckin#when he wins he decapitates them and then reanimates their head#so cute#sooooo cute#reanimator#re-animator#herbert west#what even is this game#i want it#i want to main herbert#whoever came up with his attacks is so smart
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Shame To My Name
Chapter 4: His Plan
The following day I mainly spend sulking in my tent. With Dad, Daryl, Glenn and T-Dog gone the camp seems insanely peaceful. Shane decided to stay behind to help „protecting“ the rest of the group. „Can’t leave the girls all to Dale,“ he explained. Let’s just say Ed and Morales sent a couple of death glares towards Shane. Ever since the men left to Atlanta I haven’t seen my mother anywhere. Neither have I seen Shane. Coincidence? I think not. As a matter of fact I also haven’t seen my brother in a long time but I guess he’s hanging out with Sophia. And wherever Sophia is Carol isn’t far either, so he should be save. I spend most of the day scribbling inside of my notebook. I was able to throw a couple empty ones inside of my backpack when Shane turned up at our house a month ago and got us out of the city and away from the walking dead. Ever since high school I’ve been writing. I always kept a diary but at some point I started writing fiction. I loved diving into different worlds; worlds that were so different that I was able to completely block reality out for a couple of hours. Now that the world has actually turned upside down I, for the first time, actually started writing about what used to be very normal things. Things like school, prom, friends,… love.
„(y/n)?“ I get ripped out of my thoughts.
„Come in.“
Suddenly Andrea’s head appears behind the tent’s zipper.
„Hey, girl. I’ve been missing you today. Are you okay?“ She asks and sits down next to me. I try pushing my notebook underneath my pillow without Andrea noticing.
„I’m good. Just needed some time for myself I guess…“
„Oh, I get that. I’d give everything for some undisturbed me-time. Back when the world hadn’t ended I used to soak in the hot tube once a week and enjoyed a glas of wine. Well, maybe a bottle,“ her laugh starts roaring. „My god do I miss my bathtub.“ Andrea sighs and lays down on top of Carl’s sleeping bag.
„Do ya wanna talk about last night?“ There it is. The cat’s finally out of the bag.
„Not really…“ I mumble and for the first time since knowing Andrea I actually wished she would leave me alone.
„I’ve never seen you so upset. I mean the second I understood who your dad was I saw something inside of you breaking. Don’t let him take your shine away, okay?“ Andrea squeezes my arm protectively. She’s right. I am still really upset and shocked about my father’s return from the death. However, since my encounter with Daryl last night I couldn’t close an eye. The way he grabbed me absolutely terrified me. Whenever I closed my eyes I saw Daryl’s deep blue eyes raging with anger and rage. His intense stare and tight grip are following me ever since. But besides the intense fear I felt in that second there has also been something else. Something even more powerful I can’t identify. All I see is his blue eyes.
„So, you’re writing?“ Andrea quickly changes the subject. Of course she saw…
„Uh, yeah, I mean kinda… it’s not really good though.“
„I’d love to read it,“ Andrea smiles brightly at me, however she quickly back-pedals when seeing my hesitation. „I mean when it’s finished and obviously only when you’re comfortable with it.“ I offer Andrea a smile and a quick nod.
„Will you come join me and the others? Me and Amy caught a ton of fish today, dinner will be a good one for a change.“
„Dinner sounds good,“ I grab my sweatshirt and follow Andrea outside.
———————————————————————————————————————————
Dinner turned into the worst nightmare of all time. Turned out we weren’t the only ones hungry that night. We are just sitting around the fire stuffing our faces when we hear Amy screaming like crazy. A couple of walkers sneaked into our camp; one of them reaches Andrea’s younger sister. The walker closest to her gets ahold of her arm. Blood is splashing all over one side of the RV. More screams ring out. The walker rips Amy’s arm out of her body like a flower out of gras. Shane starts shooting the other walkers with his shotgun whilst trying to get everyone to safety. Of course Andrea tries running for her sister trying to help her so Shane drops the gun and grabs her tightly.
„Don’t! It’s too late!“
Two more walkers are getting closer to Carol and Sophia so I don’t hesitate and pick up Shane’s dropped shotgun. I’ve only held a gun once, dad’s gun when he showed me how to shoot on a driving range, but I do not hesitate for a second. I pull the trigger and bring the first walker down. The blowback almost dislocates my shoulder but I chose to ignore the pain. I reload the shotgun immediately and shoot the walker closest to Sophia. The little girl gets covered in walker blood but otherwise doesn’t get harmed. My ears are ringing, my shoulder is stinging. I see red everywhere. There’s so much blood and gore, people are running around in panic, shots are getting fired.
I suddenly see another walker heading straight towards me. I try loading the shotgun but I can’t reload it. The bullet must be stuck inside even though I keep on slamming the trigger. The walker is just about to reach me when an arrow hits it straight in its head right between its eyes. I turn around and see Daryl running towards me.
„C’mon!“ He pulls me off the ground and drags me over to the RV. I spot T-Dog, Glenn and Dad who’s already at mom’s and Carl’s side. Thank god they’re all okay.
„Ouch!“ I cry out as I finally feel the actual pain running through my shoulder.
Daryl launches me into the RV just to get back to join the other men fighting the walkers.
„Daryl!“ I grab his elbow. „…Be careful.“
„Yes, ma’am,“ he assures me and closes the door. It’s killing me. I want to be out there, too. I want to help them protecting our self-made family. I want to protect them.
I start pacing around the RV in distress. „(y/n), calm down, you’ll make the walkers aware of us,“ Mom hisses towards me. My urge to flip her off is going through the ceiling right now but I can’t risk losing my temper with Carl and Sophia around.
„We need to help them! Are you fine with sitting here and doing nothing? I am not!“ I hiss back. Just when Mom is about to fight back and just while I’m considering a spatula a weapon against a literal human-eating undead there’s a knock on the door. I realise how silent it has gotten outside. No gunshots, no screams, no grunting, no fighting. Just silence. There’s another knock accompanied by Dad’s voice. „Y’all can come out, it’s over.“
Immediately Andrea shoots out from her seat and almost smashes the RV door into Dad’s face. Her aim: Her sister. „C’mon, let’s give her some space,“ Dad says and pushes me back into the RV. Mom and Carl immediately latch on to him and even I welcome the warmth of my father’s arms. I’m feeling so sorry for Andrea. Her and Amy were inseparable. No matter how hard times had gotten they always had each other’s backs. I don't even want to imagine losing Carl like that. No, I can’t. The thought alone sends a shiver through my body. I feel Dad letting go of Mom and fully embracing me in both arms. And I let him. I let him hold me for I don’t even know how long. I hold on to him like he could turn back time and make the entire evening vanish and unhappen.
„I’ll protect you. Nothing is going to happen to you. I promise you that, peanut,“ Dad whispers in my ear soothingly. „You were so brave out there. You were so brave the past couple of weeks. I am so proud of you.“ There it is. The praise I’ve been longing for my whole life. The words „I am proud of you“ that I’ve been dying to hear ever since I was a kid. No buts, no exceptions. Just pride. And all it took was for the world to end and a near-death experience for my dad. I feel like I’m getting sick.
The RV door opens yet again. I let go of Dad when I see Shane in the doorframe. „Carol? Lori? Jacqui? Could you guys… you know… check on Andrea?“ Shane asks while looking directly at Carol, avoiding mom’s eyes altogether. „Of course,“ Carol responds. „What about Ed?“
What about Ed? For the first time since Daryl pushed me into the RV I actually take a look around. Morales’ wife and kids are here, so is Carol and Sophia, me and my family and Jacqui. However, there’s no sight of Carol’s asshole of a husband. Not that I am to judge.
Shane swallows and looks down at his shoes. He’s contemplating what he’s about to say (which is a first since Mr. Loudmouthed is usually never too stunned to say anything). He looks back up at Carol and silently shakes his head. A thousand emotions are displayed in Carol’s eyes, however non of them are sadness or grief. At once Carol gets up, walks around the table and gestures for Mom and Jacqui to follow her. She keeps a straight face the entire time.
I stare after the three women and catch a glimpse of Daryl sitting next to what used to be our fireplace. The camp resembles a battle ground. The tents are splashed with blood, some of them broke down when a walker got taken down. There’s gore and walker remains everywhere. The sight is sickening. However, it’s not as gut-wrenching as the pain displayed in Daryl’s eyes. The bright blue eyes I couldn’t get out of my head the entire day seem dead and lifeless. They are staring into a void. It’s nearly killing me.
———————————————————————————————————————————
Surprisingly sleep came easily that night for me. Me and Carl snuggled up with Mom and Dad that night and somehow burying my head in Dad’s pillow calmed me enough to get some hours of rest. Of course the second I woke up reality hit me again like a brick. Andrea looks like she died last night as well. Carol seems like she’s about to burst - either of pain, regret or relief and Shane doesn’t even try hiding the fact that he preferred my father dead. Everyone’s basically eating their „breakfast“ - crackers and some cereal bars for the real lucky ones - in complete silence.
„We should bury them,“ Glenn finally breaks the silence.
„Then what?“ Shane growls while chewing on his bar.
„What do you mean?“
„I mean what are we doin then? Are we going to bury our people and then continue living on top of their graves? Just so we can keep adding more bodies until we have our own fucking graveyard?“
„You fucking asshole!“ Andrea suddenly screams at Shane with such ferocity it probably chills everyone to the bone. She storms towards the forrest, probably to Amy’s body.
„Shane’s right though,“ Dad suddenly throws in.
„What?“ Mom stares at him like she’s about to slap him.
„No, listen to me. We can’t stay here forever. We’re sitting here like a fucking three-course menu.“
„We won’t ever be able to change that fact again. Today’s about survival, not about your 9-5 job and getting settled in the suburbs,“ Dale adds.
„I heard the CDC is working on a cure.“
„I heard that, too. Heard a lot of things before the world went to hell,“ Shane mumbles.
„What if the CDC is still up and running?“
„Man, that is a stretch right there…“
„Why? If there is any government left, any structure at all they would protect the CDC at all cost, wouldn’t they? I think it’s our best shot. Shelter, protection, a rescue…“
„Okay, you want all those things and I do, too…“ Shane interrupts Dad. „Now if they exist they’re at the army base, Ford Benning.“
„That’s 100 miles in the opposite direction,“ Mom adds even more concern.
„But it’s away from the hot zone…“ Shane suddenly seems more convinced. „If that place is still in operation it will be heavily armed… We’d be save there.“
„I think we should trust Dad’s gut,“ before I can even finish my sentence every single head turns towards me. Dad stares at me, mouth wide opened.
„Tell you what, man,“ Shane takes over again. „You should really be sure if you want to put Lori, Carl and (y/n) into that kind of spot.“
„I gotta do what’s best for my family,“ Dad answers Shane whilst putting an arm demonstratively around Mom.
„That’s what? Exposing them to all kinds of risks?“
„As opposed to what? Crossing hundreds of miles of hostile territory. If you’re looking for a lifeline I say swim towards the closest ship not further out to sea!“ Dad suddenly gets louder and starts heading for Shane. „Why can’t you back me up?“
„I do want to. It’s just… I don’t see it.“
„If it was your family you’d feel differently…“
„What’ya saying to me?“ Shane jumps up from his seat. His eyes narrow on my dad. „I kept them save, man.“ Shane points at himself. „I protected them like my own!“
„I didn’t mean it that way,“ Dad throws his hands up in defence.
„How did you mean it then?“ Shane growls while flexing his bicep. „Go on man, how did you mean it?“
„You misinterpret it. You know I can’t repay that debt, okay?“
„Enough!“ Mom thankfully interferes. „Shane, you’ve known Rick all your life. You’ve always trusted his instincts. Trust him now.“ For the longest time nobody says a single word. Maybe people are just waiting for Dad or Shane to finally throw the first fist. Well, at least I am.
„Okay,“ Shane finally says after the longest time. „I say the most important thing here is that we all stay together. So, for those of you who agree. We will leave the first second in the morning. Okay?“
https://archiveofourown.org/works/37750531/chapters/94592350
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
#the walking dead#the walking dead fanfiction#twd#twd daryl#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon y/n#rick grimes x daughter reader
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A very long list of updated snowed in fic recs for @starsandmoony 💜
On my Way by Gia279 | 17.9K
Huge black paws smacked the window, followed by a fuzzy face smooshing up against it.
He scrambled over the gear shift, tipping into the passenger seat. Bear, he thought hysterically. It had to be a bear, a freaking bear.
A big pink tongue rolled out, lips pulling back as the creature panted.
I’ve got chills... They’re multiplying! by DropsOfAddiction | 12.3K | Explicit
Derek is literally wrapped around him, one heavy leg and one heavy arm pinning him tight to Derek‘s front.
Warm and steady breaths tickle the back of Stiles’ neck. He tries not to freak out and he wonders how he’s going to extract himself without waking Derek. He totally isn’t ready to face into this conversation.
Stiles stretches gently and Derek grumbles clutching him tighter in his sleep. Stiles tries not to yelp when Derek buries his face in the back of his neck.
Well fuck.
One Star Awake by zjofierose | 9.5K
When Stiles gets stranded in the snow one dark and snowy night, he's in real danger. Fortunately, he gets rescued by a man on a horse.
Emergency Contact by bewarethesmirk | 1.2K
“Derek here hasn’t left your side,” the nurse coos, and Derek glares at her back. “You’re so lucky to have such an adoring husband.”
snow day by kellifer_fic | 8.3K
“It’s not a big deal. It just happens when I’m… cold,” Stiles offers, scratching gingerly at his head with a claw and then grimacing at it like it’s betraying him.
“Are you serious?”
“Hey, who are you to judge, wolfman?”
Your love warms me up by Smowkie | 1.2K
“At least it’s slowing down,” Stiles said, his lips slightly blue tinted and his teeth clacking.
“Yeah,” Derek said. Stiles had his arm hooked with Derek’s, and he was stumbling a little as they walked. “Come on, keep walking, keep warm.”
“Yeah, keep walking,” Stiles agreed.
Derek didn’t like how weak he sounded.
In the Dark Midwinter, Light by rhysiana | 3.7K | Mature
Really, Derek and Stiles being sent to an empty druid's cabin to fetch a book for Deaton and then getting snowed in could have gone so, so much worse.
it doesn't have to be a snowman by triggeringthehealing (froggydarren) | 4.9K
The Beacon Beans coffee shop is what Stiles would refer to as a lifesaver. They supply his dose of sugar whenever he needs it, they don't ask questions, and their hot chocolate is delicious.
And now they're running a snowman building competition where the grand prize would get him an entire year's worth of drinks. Really, all he needs is a partner to team up with. Only everyone else from the pack already seems to have paired up.
three words have never come easy by the_problem_with_stardust | 1.5K | Mature
If someone had told Derek five years ago that Stiles Stilinski would be the one living in a secluded cabin in the woods, Derek never would have believed them. Even now, he had a hard time reconciling his memories of Stiles as a high schooler with the young man who preferred the quiet found amongst the trees.
Whenever he’d inquired, Stiles had just smiled that enigmatic smile, so like Deaton or Morrell, and said something about being unable to think around the bustle of town.
“Don’t you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit!” by jadore_hale | 2.3K
“I’m sorry,” Stiles sighed heavily, coming back down to earth, “But when you woke me up this morning and said that we needed to go out into the woods and find the evil Snow Witch that brought this shit here, I thought that was your emotionally stunted way of saying come build a snowman with me.”
In The Arms of A Werewolf by literaryoblivion | 9.2K
“You have got to be kidding me.”
Stiles is flabbergasted. How is this even possible? Werewolves he can take. Poisonous lizard creatures, sure. Once dead, now living creepy werewolf uncles, bit of a stretch but he can roll with it. Sacrificing ancient druids that masquerade as teachers, okay fine. But this?
An honest to god abominable snowman? In Beacon Hills, California no less?
Nope.
Winter Storm Stiles by 42hrb | 2K
Stiles isn’t looking forward to weathering his first snow storm on his own, then he meets a handsome stranger at the grocery store who might be able to help.
Find Me Sitting Fireside by kaistrex (weishen) | 13.2K
With the news that an Alpha wants Beacon Hills for their own, Derek and Stiles are forced to attend a couples retreat at a ski resort to learn their enemy’s identity. However, the threat is the least of Derek’s problems when he’s expected to fake a relationship, share a bed and suffer through candlelit dinners with the man he’s secretly been in love with for the past four years.
Waiting for Winter by Twice_Shy (notboldly) | 3.2K
Everyone had a soulmark, a special shape on their body that formed during childhood and was meant to lead each person to their soulmate.
Unfortunately, Derek’s soulmark is shaped like a snowflake, and that fact has been actively ruining his life since he was six years old.
world tilts by wearing_tearing | 1.5K
The guy is gorgeous as hell, and Stiles kind of wishes he could stare at him forever.
He figures he deserves a treat after almost slipping to his death.
Wait, What? by wangler | 5.3K
When a significant portion of the Beacon Hills Preserve ends up coated in three entire inches of snow, the pack looks into it. If by looking into it one means packing a bunch of garbage bags and huge Tupperware lids into the back of Stiles’ Jeep to go look for a decent sledding hill. Things go sideways, because of course they do.
A Very Sterek Christmas by TobyRosetta | 13.5K
It’s actually snowing in Beacon Hills, and it’s got everyone out of whack. Out of the kindness of his own heart, Stiles decides to take some things up to the the old Hale Mansion for old Sourwolf himself. But when the storm kicks up and snows them both in, the night takes an interesting turn.
Blanketed by got_the_bite | 3.3K
“Stiles, where are you?” Derek demands again. His voice is higher than usual Stiles notes.
“You would be such a nice tenor if you joined a choir,” Stiles thinks aloud.
But In Case I Stand One Little Chance by mikkimouse | 8.6K
Stiles’s Jeep breaks down in the middle of the snowstorm. He’s rescued by his high school crush, and as the cherry on top, is trapped in a cabin with said crush until the roads clear.
Fuck his life.
Snow Flirting by thepsychicclam | 11,396
As Beacon Hills get pounded with foot after foot of snow, single dad Stiles can't quite keep up with his four year old, his job, and shoveling his driveway. Derek makes his teenage son shovel Stiles' walk, and that just leads to Derek helping Stiles out with a whole bunch of other tasks. That's okay with Derek, though, cause any chance to be with Stiles is okay with him.
Baby, It's Cold Outside by Jebiwonkenobi | 2,791
Beacon Hills has a snow storm. Totally-not-cuddling happens.
Come Fly With Me (Or Don't) by stilinskisparkles | 15,325
Stiles is overworked and stressed out when his flight home gets delayed due to copious amounts of snow. He finds entertainment with one Derek Hale, whom he hasn't seen since high school but really doesn't mind getting reacquainted with.
Especially when it turns out Derek is surprisingly hilarious and will reluctantly play snap with him. And can walk on his hands.
The Man in the Snow by mikkimouse | 15,894
Derek finds a young man injured in a ravine on the border of his ranch. That's strange enough, but the mystery only deepens when the young man wakes up without any memory of what he was doing out there.
Blizzard Boyfriend by literaryoblivion | 1,897
With a record-breaking snowstorm on the horizon, threatening a city shutdown for a few days, Stiles gets the bright idea to put an ad up on craigslist for someone to spend his snow days with that would be filled with cuddling, movies, alcohol, and potential makeouts or more.
It's a joke until someone responds.
and home before dark by verity | 3,175
The mystery of the absent Hale brother was hardly a mystery at all until he appeared at last, set on taking up residence out in the woods.
(In which Derek is a hedgewitch. With a cat.)
Let it snow! Let it snow! (but please let it stop eventually) by relenafanel | 19,123
Stiles grew up with his bedroom window overlooking Derek's bedroom, so when he returns home for the holidays he's surprised to find a stranger in his nerdy neighbour's bedroom.
Only, he's not much of a stranger.
It is Derek Hale, the guy who is going to be his new step brother, if the rumours are true.
Red Against the Snow by Ember | 34,219
Stiles is trapped for the holidays in the cabin of a strange man/hermit named Derek. A strangely friendly wolf befriends Stiles during his stay. It's up to the teenager to find out why Derek has secluded himself from society, what the feelings he's beginning to have means, and what the connection between the mysterious man and the mysterious black wolf is.
an exaltation of larks by llassah | 25,370
All Derek wants is to get through the lambing season with his body and spirit intact. He had thought that the blizzards would be the main danger, not a highborn omega with beautiful eyes and a stubborn streak.
The flamingo in the yard by Vendelin | 6,107
It isn't fair that Stiles needs to work Christmas, when his dad is on the other side of the country. Or that his really hot, next door neighbour is around for the holidays as well. Or that there's a power outage that makes things even worse. Or better.
(Fake) Winter Weather Brings Us Together by tylerfucklin (zimothy) | 10,535
So naked cuddling with Derek while suffering from hypothermia wasn't really on Stiles' to-do list for the week, but neither was that kiss--so who was Stiles to complain?
It's a Wild Pitch (But He's a Contact Hitter) by jettiebettie | 11,828
They're combating supernatural forces with blunt instruments now. Seems legit. As long as Stiles doesn't end up getting frostbite, he's willing to roll with it. Not that his friends have to worry about that. Fucking werewolves.
Abominable by Revenant | 20,277
Where Derek buys a secluded cabin halfway up a mountain, meets a yeti and falls in love with Stiles, but not necessarily in that order.
stilinski v. a. snowman | tumblr ficlet
This fic was inspired by this prompt: ‘we’re stuck in a log cabin overnight during a snowstorm bc of some stupid school team building exercise and it’s freEzing and I can’t sleep and you can hear me shivering in the next bed so you pick me up and dump in your bed and good grief you are hot in every sense of the word’ au
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'Preparing one more bolt and hoping to whatever god out there that one of the heroes on shift would find his unconscious body sometime this day, and maybe drop him off at Aleksandra's or to the hospital.'
Masterlist
The married life wasn't the life that Maxwell expected, especially not with borderline supervillain Nightshade. But maybe they could make it work?
The wedding was a small event.
It was a simple courthouse signing with just the two of them in their civilian clothes: with his simple clean cut slacks and cardigan vest over a plain black long sleeve and with her rather flowy floral top and a similar straight cut slacks but in a deep purple rather than black.
There was no kiss, no ceremony; but there were a few of her extended family that whizzed past from who knows where while offering their congratulations.
They walked home with paper bags of takeout and drinks, apparently waiting for a quiet night ahead.
She'd given him his own room, which baffled him.
"I don't want to force you to touch me if you don't want to," he remembered her say, a smile on her face but something in her eyes tugged at his chest.
He let it go.
He was offered an office space but declined, saying he didn't need it. She just shrugged but kept the room vacant anyway.
Nothing really changed in his daily schedule. Fight gangsters in the morning, wannabees at noon, villains in the afternoon and then part time villains before evening, probably after their day jobs.
He'd come home battered and bruised but nothing ever serious.
But still he'd catch a flash in her eyes whenever parts of injured flesh gets exposed.
She never said anything about it except to offer to bandage them up, which he so obliged.
Her touch was tender yet firm, never actually hurting him but enough to keep him in place whenever he fidgeted too much.
"You're used to this?"
Her lips curved upward as she focused on the wrapping. "I have siblings with superpowers."
He flashed a grin before flexing his arm when she let him go. "Good as new."
"Please." He heard the intentional derision as she rolled her eyes. "It'd be less than a scratch tomorrow."
She leaned back, tucked her legs underneath her as she held the mug she's neglected.
He appreciated the quiet. It was different from the sort of quiet that he was used to.
He didn't know what to make of it.
---
It was weird.
Several weeks after his court wedding, some of his regular villains have been.. avoiding him? Whenever he's within thirty feet of them, they either visibly fluster and leave, make a shitty excuse about forgetting to walk the dog/cat/raccoon/fish, just straight up throw themselves down from the top of a building or moving vehicle, or god forbid all of the above.
It hurt his feelings, not gonna lie.
It didn't help that from the corners of his eyes he would see one of them.
Sometimes it was a glint from a loose object, soft tinkling of bells, the swishing of a sleek black cloth, or a flash of violent neon that gave him a short burst of a headache.
He's heard of crazy in-laws but god damn.
---
Voltage was surrounded yet again but a group of rather brave or stupid villains from the neighboring city.
"Been a while since I've beaten up a pretty hero." The man had the head shaped like an egg and a face so scarred it was difficult to discern if he had a face or had a print of a game of pick-up sticks plastered on as a mask.
The encounter took too long. Normally fights like this would be over in minutes but it's been nearly an hour and he's only managed to deal with four of them.
Persistent fuckers.
Eyes level at each one of them, the bloom of pain in his left arm was starting to fade and the tingling to start. He knew it was going to be useless in a couple of rounds.
"You're not my type, unfortunately." He hissed as his left arm cackled with a bright burst of lightning before fizzling out. Great.
Egghead snorted, eyes glinting as he and his similarly unpleasant companions moved a step, then another, hands tightly gripping makeshift weapons such as the revolutionary villain weapon: a mangled bat with rusty nails embedded on it.
Flexing his good arm, Volt knew he had one shot at this.
With a sudden burst of energy, he ducked, weaved, and flipped a goon with such agility that none of them anticipated the massive wave of electricity that surrounded the alley.
Heaving a breath, he felt the acid of his bile creeping up as he coughed, his energy quickly fading.
Voltage knew that if he wanted to keep his dignity as a hero, then he wouldn't allow himself to get killed by a fucking bat with nails on it.
He'd rather drink Savillon's coffee, goddammit.
"Fuck."
He turned, growling when he saw a one, and then three of them standing, their faces furious as they gauged the carnage between them.
"You're dead, Pretty Boy."
Gathering up the remains of the weapons and pieces of broken glass, Volt knew that if he didn't deal with this sooner, he's probably end up in medical leave again.
He didn't want that, obviously.
Preparing one more bolt and hoping to whatever god out there that one of the heroes on shift would find his unconscious body sometime this day, and maybe drop him off at Aleksandra's or to the hospital.
He could feel his hairs stand on end, the way they always do whenever he lashed out a particularly powerful blast, when WHAM-
Silver flashed in his eyes as two lightning-fast creatures tumbled and flipped over the brutes with such grace and finesse that no one had the time to react to the fact that in one fell swoop, they've managed to corral and incapacitate each and every one of the neighboring assholes before knocking them out with knockout gas.
Fists still up, Volt gaped like a fish as two adolescent figures laughed and congratulated themselves with a job well done.
"How-"
The taller of the two looked up, a boy with silvery waves of hair swishing as he regarded him before grinning, the bells attached to his hair and black-and-white jester-like clothing jingling with every slight movement.
"Hi!"
"Bye!" The girl, hair longer with similar bells attached grabbed the boy by the shoulders and disappearing.
Voltage sighed. He really shouldn't meet his in-laws like this.
---
I'm honestly having way too much fun with this lol
This Volt is way different from the Volt I had in my head when I first started thinking of this au for my ocs. It's different but I like it lol.
I'd love to get some suggestions for a series and hero/villain names or maybe some future plot points! Thanks so much for reading this! I appreciate everyone that takes time out of their day to read and comment. I write this for fun and it makes me so happy that it also brings people a little bit of joy <3
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Masterlist
Part 5
#hero x villain#heroxvillain#villain x hero#heroes and villain#hero villain writing#hero villain prompts#hero#villain#slow burn#creative writing#writing community#enemies to lovers#my ocs#original characters#enemies to friends to lovers#domestic fluff#fluff#heroes and villains being actual professions#no beta we die like mollymauk#prompt#writing prompt#series
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dove. (frankie morales)
chapter i. previous.
pairing: frankie morales x ofc (’dove’) no use of y/n.
warnings: mention of ptsd/military service, language, violence, brief mention of torture/kidnapping, injury detail, fighting.
summary: frankie was going to propose, until dove found the ring and ghosted. even santi can’t track her down.
rating: mature. wc: 1.6k
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Dove was a nickname coined by an old general during her training. He was a traditional man, though not disrespectful. It was a term of endearment that probably softened the influx of powerful women breaching into the male territory. He’d drawled, ‘I ought to call you Dove – I ain’t never seen a girl so swift, yet so fuckin’ lethal.’ She kept the boys in line too, he’d noted. When Benny got too reckless, or Tom’s temper ran away with him, she was the first to snap them out of it. In environments where peace was a very distant concept, she played the peacekeeper.
One time, during a two-month deployment in Nigeria, the group was shoved in the back of an ancient pick-up truck for six hours. Dove was wedged between Will and Frankie, sweltering in the humid air. The stale smell of sweat mixed with blood and diesel was permeating the air, and they were three hours from the nearest checkpoint. To pass the time, she asked them what they’d do if they weren’t special forces.
That was easy for Will – he’d be a teacher of some kind. Benny waffled about sports, making some brash comment about how he’s got to channel all his aggression somewhere. Tom and Santi couldn’t come up with anything that suited them more than the forces, which was not surprising. Frankie would still be a pilot somehow. Dove had never seen him more comfortable than in the pilot’s chair.
Dove dreamed of owning her own bar or café, somewhere relaxed and laid-back. A beach perhaps, somewhere quaint and peaceful, where the air is warm well into the late evening and the waves are gentle, collapsing onto the sand like white noise. She imagined the hum of conversation meeting tinkling music, beach lanterns dotted around the decking to cast an ambient glow beneath the stars. Maybe a chef on weekends could make bar snacks. Tom had snorted at that, throwing a jab about how she can burn the water they use to make their dried food sachets.
The men had recalled this conversation, desperately trying to fathom where Dove might have taken off to. It was met with an aching nostalgia for the type of teammate she was too. That conversation had been a tactic, a peaceful one, to prevent the terrible concoction of adrenaline, exhaustion and heat forming an argument in that truck. She was a natural tactician as well as a good friend.
Frankie had recounted each country they had been stationed and exactly how Dove had felt about them. She had loved Argentina, even when she got shot and Will spent three hours with his finger crammed in the wound to stop the bleeding. But she also liked Jamaica, Brazil and Hawaii. None of their contacts in the forces had any trace of her, not even Santi’s in South America. Her family were none the wiser – they brushed it off, her dad mumbling something about it sounding like her usual antics.
All he had was a scribbled note that read, ‘I need space. I’m safe. I love you.’ It was folded neatly in his wallet, like he was carrying the last piece of her that he had.
*
Mexico. That was where she was. A small town on the West coast that had enough life to keep her occupied, and the guarantee of anonymity.
If people asked, she was a retired nurse, which wasn’t entirely untrue. She told them she spent a lot of her career in humanitarian aid, to explain the occasional jitters on a rowdy Friday night and the nasty scars. There was a particularly gruesome one leading from the base of her throat up to her bottom lip from a knife fight. She told them it was shrapnel, flung from a collapsing building, and she was lucky it didn’t catch her jugular. The locals had gasped in awe at her heroism. She’d flinched against the memory of how her own knife buried into her attacker’s throat instead.
A few days into her move, Dove had found what could only be considered a derelict shed on the beachfront. It was probably the remains of an old boathouse. With some help from the locals, she had restored the ageing planks of wood. What was spare formed the bar and some rustic furniture. She pieced together a jumble of second-hand bar stools, chairs and lanterns that made for an eclectic combination. It had character and history in its walls, rather than some swanky, expensive build devoid of any personality. It was exactly what she had dreamed of, huddled in hypothermic temperatures or insomniac in her cot at base, sleep beyond her reach.
It didn’t change the fact that every time she entered her bedroom, the old polaroid of Frankie pinned to the wall hits her like a ton of bricks. Frankie knows she took it – it was pinned to the fridge at their home before she left. It’s quintessential Frankie, sat with his arms folded to his chest, biceps straining slightly against an old denim shirt that was getting a little too snug post-retirement. It was at a barbecue, his skin tanned and flushed from a day in the sun drinking, tousled hair peeking out from the sides of a dog-eared cap. Every time Dove glances at it, she wonders if he still has that hat.
‘Of course he has,’ the voice in her head snaps back. Any piece of clothing she’d suggest replacing would be countered with, ‘over my dead body’. The man was sentimental, a little too attached to his home comforts. She’d also bought it him in a seedy gift shop in the middle of nowhere as a joke.
“To add some variety,” she’d said. He would never let it go now.
Once, Veronica had eyed the photograph on her mirror and asked, “Who is he then? An ex?”
Veronica, or Roni for short, had lived in the town her whole life until university. When she graduated and moved home to save money, she needed a job. Dove needed a friend, so she took her on as a bartender. She was young and giddy, but harmless. More importantly, she was too self-absorbed to notice or even care that her thirty-something year old boss had bullet holes in her back.
“Something like that.” Dove had replied, rifling through her sorry excuse for a makeup bag. She’d closed the bar early to have a rare night off in the next town over, which had considerably livelier nightlife.
“You never talk about relationships. Or men.’ Roni observed, peering over Dove’s shoulder to eye another photograph. It was a group picture of the boys, huddled in the same fraying booth in their favourite bar back in Florida. “Looks like you were spoilt for choice.”
Dove scoffed, meeting her friend’s twinkling gaze in the mirror. “Shut your mouth. They were friends from work.”
“Were? Does that mean you can’t set me up now?”
“They’re almost twice your age. You’d tire ‘em out.” Dove set down the lip-gloss she dragged out for special occasions. “Come on, I’m not getting any younger either. It’s already passed my bedtime.”
Thankfully, that was enough to amuse the younger girl into linking her arm and hauling her out the door to the taxi, no more questions asked.
*
The hollering of spectators and thudding of skin slapping against the mat was reduced to a distant buzzing in Frankie’s ears. It was dimmed by the incessant ramblings of Santiago and Tom, discussing the files Santi had put together on Lorea. He could feel the reawakening of his rusty military senses as he follows the familiar tactics, mentally registering his agreement or noting what he might do differently. He doesn’t vocalise it though, because he hasn’t even agreed yet. Joining the debate would inadvertently signal his agreement. He didn’t want that.
There was a shadow lingering in the space on the bench beside him. It was an empty presence, not Will, who was hooked on the cage of the ring yelling encouragement to his brother. Not Benny, thumping his leather gloves together with his teeth pulled harshly over his mouthguard, judging his competitor with a predatory glint in his eye.
The opponent was a monster, but he lumbered like his limbs were filled with lead. Frankie notes that Benny, nimble and tall, will have a breeze tiring him out. Dove would have joked that it wasn’t worth coming, that they’ll be sat here until their asses are numb watching Benny play cat and mouse. His chest twinges. Sometimes it’s too easy to remember what she’d do, what she’d say. He wished he knew what she’d make of Santiago’s proposition. She always saw through Pope’s glamourisation and Tom’s greed.
What Frankie misses while he observes his pitiful surroundings is Tom and Santi descending into a hushed conversation. Tom nudges Santi, “You got anything on Dove?”
Santi sighs, long and solemn, “Maybe.” As Tom’s face quirks in interest, he holds up his finger, “It’s just a hunch.”
“A hunch is better than what we’ve had in the last year.”
Santi takes a sip of his beer, casting a glance at Fish, whose eyes are trained on the floor and the swirling contents of his cup. He knows him well enough to know his thoughts are the only thing that have his attention.
“I worry about him. We all do.” Tom whispers. “Getting busted just made things worse.”
“Don’t get his hopes up, man. It’s nothing solid. It’ll crush him if I’m wrong.” Tom nods solemnly before Santi continues, “A friend of mine saw an ex-Delta in a bar, a woman. He knew ‘cause of a tattoo she had on the nape of her neck.”
Tom’s eyes widen. In front of them, Benny lands a sickening punch on his opponent’s nose, complimented by an audible crack. He’s barely breaking a sweat, dancing around as the guy heaves and stumbles forward.
Santi’s gaze doesn’t break from the ring. “Mexico. I think she’s in Mexico.”
#Frankie Morales#frankie morales x reader#triple frontier imagine#frankie morales imagine#triple frontier fic#francisco morales#Triple Frontier#frankie catfish morales#Frankie morales fic#Frankie Morales x OFC#Pedro Pascal#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal fanfiction#benny miller#will miller#Santiago Garcia#santiago pope garcia#ben miller#dove fic
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Demon!Dimitrescux Reader
Synopsis: Lady Dimitrescu reveals herself as a demon that has made it her personal mission to guard you after what you believe is the case of worst/best timing of your entire life. No trigger warnings. 1.6k words.
A/N: This took me less than two hours to write/publish this. I needed this out of my system ASAP
The black Toyota Corolla had to look strangely familiar your first pass down the street. It reminded you of your boyfriend’s car, and you swore that the digits of the license plate must have been one or two off his, and the generic pine tree air freshener must have been a different color. Not to mention the woman in the backseat with a cocktail dress on.
You chose not to think about it as you walked into the 7-11 in nothing but your pajamas and the pair of crocs you haven’t worn since being on the college swim team. It wasn’t hard to decide what to grab off the shelves. A bag of chips store brand sour patch kids and gummy worms, a two-liter of Pepsi, and a bottle of wine too big for one person. The cashier looked just as tired as you did, and you understood what it was like, barely, time is a social construct that distanced you deeply from the night shifts you pulled at this same store while in college. Nine to five shifts (Dolly Parton shifts, your coworker would call them with a smile) were only better because you could sit down and have a stable sleep schedule. It was the same grueling work, and in your case, you had to deal with the same shitty people that complained about things you can’t control.
His droning voice pulled you out of your train of thoughts. “The total is forty-eight fifty-seven.” He was either crying in the backroom while you were picking out your chips or hit a massive dab, you weren’t sure, but his red eyes made either option feasible. You didn’t comment on it, only handing him two twenties and a ten and taking the change back before walking out the door. You didn’t say anything to him, and vice versa, which you appreciated because you didn’t have the energy to deal with a chatty Kathy right now. And as you pull yourself down the street, your bag of crap from 7-11 in your hand, you pass that same deja-vu-mobile and look at the stickers on the back.
The same I love my dog and proud cat-dad stickers in the exact same place, the dent on the right side of the bumper, and the license plate that was in fact, one hundred percent his. Which begs the question, who was the girl in the cocktail dress, and what was she doing in the backseat? The question didn’t matter for long because the car promptly burst into flames. Oh well. Wait.
The.
Car.
Is.
On.
Fire.
It’s your boyfriend’s car.
Your
Boyfriends.
Car.
Is.
On.
Fire.
You wipe out your phone to call the fire department when you see the girl in the same cocktail dress crawl out of the car, dress pulled up to her waist, barefoot and mascara streaming down her face. She’s violently beating his clutch against the ground, desperate to put out the flames while your boyfriend slams the door open on the other side and throws himself out full force onto the asphalt of the busy street. He looks up and sees the anger in your eyes.
“Hey, babe.”
“I-I-can-” he stutters violently. His face was red in anger and blood dripping from his nose due to the face-first collision with the freshly paved street.
“We’re over.”
You do him the favor of calling the fire department for his car and walk off as soon as you hear the sirens of the firetruck. You didn’t have anything to do with it. No need to watch the fallout when you had nothing to do with the disaster. Besides, your soda’s getting cold, you wanted to drink that before it got Luke-warm. You ended up dropping off the crap and walking to the 24-7 grocery store a little farther in the other direction to get ice cream. Standing in the frozen aisle, in nothing but your pajamas, bright red crocs, and moist eyes, you try and decide between the weird, nuanced flavors that all taste like vanilla anyhow.
You look up towards the top shelf when you notice the woman leaning over you. She’s deathly pale, skin as pale as paper and lipstick so red it glowed compared to everything else. Her huge hat would make a shadow on her face if it weren’t propped right above her hairline.
“So, did you enjoy the show sweet-heart,” she whispers in your ear. You feel her breath on your neck and her gaze freezes your heart. “You didn’t think that his car catching on fire was a happy accident now did you?”
You turn around, only not to see her behind you, but on the fogged-up glass doors on the other side of the aisle. “Did you really think that I’d be standing right behind you?” Her question is almost taunting.
“Who are you?”
She breathes into her elegant pipe only to blow out to re-fog the glass before staring dead into your eyes and saying the words that changed your life forever. “I’m your guardian demon.”
You honestly thought you were losing your mind, seeing this woman in the glass, telling you she was a demon who set your ex’s car on fire. (It felt odd to call him that, you had been dating him for three years). Her elegant leg steps through the glass, her dress riding up to just below her knee before it hit the ground and the rest of her flowed into our realm as smoothly as her dress swayed when she walked over to you.
She was almost twice your height, and the view from where she stood in front of you made her feel even more so tall. “So mortal, what do you have to say, knowing that you have a five-hundred-year-old all-powerful demon protecting you?”
“What happened to my guardian angel?”
She scoffs. “You never had one. Most people nowadays have guardian angels, in fact, I’ve only heard of one other mortal who hasn’t had one that’s alive right now.”
“What do you mean?” You can’t help but ask. There’s an entire world of things you didn’t understand. Angels. Demons. Hell, even bigfoot could be real for all you know.
“Well, darling, there is a very simple answer to that question: there are only so many angels for so many mortals, and so sometimes a few slip through the cracks of the system, and that’s where we step in.” She moves around to the refrigerator next to you and inspects the sorbets. “Despite what the church tells you, us demons love humans. They’re a claim to social status. You bring a human home, and you’re viewed as wealthy, famous even.”
“So that’s what you get out of taking a person’s soul in a deal.”
She turns to you. “When I what now?”
“Ya’ know,” you say, “a person makes a deal with a demon in exchange for money or fame, and when they die their soul belongs to the demon and they’re doomed to eternal hell yada-yada-yada.”
“Is that what they’re teaching you, now.”
“At least that’s what my mother says. I didn’t really believe in any of this stuff till you stepped out of the door and said you set my ex’s car on fire.”
“I would have done it sooner, but you looked so happy with him, it was difficult to pull that away from you,” she sighs before standing up to her full height, “that woman he was with was going to give you HPV and I’d prefer the human I fought tooth and nail over to not get an STD. I would never have let that stupid-man-thing touch you had I known he would cheat on you with a mortal so… infected.” What an interesting word to decide to land on.
She turns and waltzes back across the aisle with a grace that has long been lost to time. “And besides, you’re better off without him, with him off your mind you’ll be able to take that new project on at work and get that raise you’ve been needing so badly.”
You’re still trying to process this. “You mentioned that you only heard of one other mortal with a demon guardian. Who is he?”
“His name doesn’t matter, all I really care about is that damn man-child, Heisenberg, is watching him, which means he won’t be alive much longer.”
“Do you kill us?”
She puts her hand to her chest and looks genuinely offended before her features soften when she realizes you had never met a demon in your entire life not to mention even believing in them. “We would never. Our humans are like our children, and while we may not be able to subtle pull strings to protect those that we watch over, we do have our more… direct ways of protecting them.”
“Like setting his car on fire.”
“I’ve done worse things to keep you safe.”
Your face pales, but your curiosity brightens your eyes. “Like what?”
“Your so demand, child, but remember when lightning struck the tree in your backyard, and it fell and landed on your neighbor fifteen or so years ago?”
You can’t formulate words.
“Or how your car broke down on the side of the road so you couldn’t reach the hotel you booked?”
“You did that!”
“They were going to steal your luggage!” She scoffs before taking a long drag from her pipe. “Anymore, questions?”
“Is Jesus real?”
“I wasn’t there for that, and if he was, he hasn’t left his fluffy little sky bed since being nailed to that goddamn cross.”
“One more.”
“It better not be stupid, darling.”
“What ice cream should I get?”
Her soft smile returns. “Get the java-chip, but the one right behind the front one, there’s a little extra than usual in that container.”
#lady dimitrescu#alcina x reader#alcina dimitrescu#dimitrescu x reader#demon dimitrescu#resident evil 8#resident evil village#resident evil x reader
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title: mishpachah
rating: T+
word count: 3,085
summary: Five years after rebuilding the manor—and the birth of a new Belmont into the world—Trevor decides to share an old recipe with his newfound family.
For @fibulaa 💛 Thanks so much for commissioning me!
READ HERE
The first bread Trevor Belmont ate while living his newly orphaned vagabond life was so dry it cut at the inner walls of his throat. He swallowed each bite with grimace after grimace, knowing that despite the pain, the already hardened child of thirteen could stave off starvation for a little while longer. Until he tasted the faintest tinge of copper on his ruined tongue.
Putting those years far behind, he now stands in front of a wooden counter, blurry eyed and with a yawn reminiscent of a sun drunk cat. It seems clean at first glance but in every corner Trevor notices fragments of past meals which he tried wiping away once they were finished and placed on a more pristine table meant for family. Bits of salt, half minced vegetables, and crumbs of bread much softer than the ones belonging to a later childhood he would rather forget. This kitchen, warm in its early morning sunlight, was the final instalment of the manor, newly risen from the ashes. Or rather, simply rebuilt thanks to the calloused, blistered, and splintered hands. No more ruined stone, no more fire blackened beams holding together little less than an architectural skeleton. The somewhat mirror image of Trevor’s lost home has been faring better than the castle. Too many memories, fresh, ranging from bitter to incomprehensible.
Slowly, he grows conscious of his surroundings and his own self. A continuing habit of being the first to wake not just in this manor hold but in life. Reluctantly opening his eyes prior to dawn covering the landscape while still traveling alone only to drag a pair of worn boots back along a similar muddy road. Trevor never wanted to wake up before the sun. He just couldn’t bear to stay in the same place for much longer whether due to the laundry list of dangers or more often than not, his newfound hatred of whichever backwater hamlet he unfortunately found himself in.
He’s happy to wake up early. Happy to never feel a need to leave or escape, happy to know that lack of food replaced with pints of liquid pleasure mixed with death will never plague him again. Happy to prepare breakfast in a hot iron pot over a well stoked fire. What he thought he lost forever has come back, along with new additions to the family he’s carved out.
Another presence bounds her way into the kitchen and ambushes Trevor from behind. He’s not old—not yet, he’ll give it time—but years of drinking have made their permanent stay, dulling the more acute senses. Makes it easier for a five-year-old to catch him off guard. Trevor’s eyes bolt open as tiny arms hold him in a tight cage.
“Good morning, papa!”
His ears ring at the sound of Mirele’s loud voice, but at least he won’t have to worry about nodding off. He stares down at the youngest Belmont who looks as though someone had split Trevor and Sypha straight down their centres into four pieces and sewed each differing half onto the other in order to create a new person. A homunculi of messy dark chocolate hair, bright eyes shining with blue ice, full rosy cheeks somehow conspicuously smeared with some sort of dirt or jam, and enough energy to wear out an electric powered jackrabbit.
“How’s my little monster doing this morning?” Everything Trevor says is laced with his own personal touch of affection and Mirele loves it.
“Mama and papa are still asleep. Help me wake them up! Pleaseeee?”
This doesn’t surprise him; Sypha has always preferred to savour her last moments of sleep longer than normal and Alucard is… well, Alucard.
“Tell you what.” Trevor places a lid onto the simmering pot with a heavy clank. “While this heats up for our breakfast, we’ll go wake up those lazy bones.”
“Right!” Hand in smaller hand, the two make their way upstairs into the shadowy master bedchamber. Curtains drawn with only a sliver of light cutting its singular path across the floor and over two distinct lumps covered by blankets and furs. They seem conjoined, linked in each other’s arms, unaware that a third party has been missing for long enough. Mirele plunges into the room first, jumping onto the bed as all children do when parents refuse to join the land of the conscious. She playfully shoves and cuddles her way between the two bodies who sink deeper beneath the covers, lazily moaning like ghosts.
“Mama! Papa! Wake up! It’s time to get up!”
Trevor hopes that his tactic of throwing open the weighted curtains works in a more effective manner. Listening to the rising chorus of wordless protests coming from behind, he’s pleased with the results. “Never thought I would be the one setting a good example for our daughter.”
“Do not get cheeky, especially this early.” Sypha’s response spills out like running water. It’s clear her mind isn’t quite all there yet. But she can scoop Mirele into her arms, find every ticklish spot, and illicit giggles that only canines might hear. “At least we both know how to have fun, right my sweet?”
“Vampires… nocturnal…” A deeper, muffled voice emerges from under one of the pillows.
“Something you’d like to share with us, Alucard?” Trevor quips, amused at how the other father of the household can never seem to shake off his morning dishevelment. Perhaps sleeping in a coffin would help—a very large one so he doesn’t have to be alone. Alucard reluctantly removes the pillow as tangled heaps of gold fall over his face.
“Vampires are supposed to be nocturnal. Would you rather I burst into ashes upon contact with the sun? Think of our girls, Trevor.”
“We’ve all seen you in the sun before, it’s about as dangerous as a clove of garlic.”
“I have my own means of physical protection. Far beyond your measly human comprehension, love.”
“Personally, I’ve been able to comprehend you plenty.”
Mirele stares up at Sypha, her bushy brows furrowed. “What does… comp… sshhheshion mean?”
“It’s just another word your fathers use whenever either of them want to feel smart.”
Alucard gives Sypha a gentle pinch on either side of her abdomen. “I thought you were on my side.”
“What about my side?” Trevor asks, excelling at the greatest strength he possesses—the ability to never take anything seriously, only when he must.
“I’m hungry,” Mirele speaks up. “Hungry and bored. Can we eat now?”
--
This life is not normal, but then again it is. It always has been for them. Normal once meant coming together because of violence, encroaching darkness, and some flimsy prophecy stringing them along one dead body at a time. A prophecy which never said what had to be done after they followed it to the hard earned letter. Perhaps that’s why Trevor, Sypha, and Alucard floundered afterwards. No instruction on how to live their upturned lives.
Fuck prophecy.
They made this life by their own standards and in accordance with their own desires. They loved how they wanted to love and no prophecy could have foreseen Mirele. How she calls for her father while both Trevor and Alucard turn their heads at the same exact second. How she quickly calms herself when presented with a bowl of warm oatmeal drowning in honey and wild fruits hand plucked from the surrounding forest. But it’s not enough. Nothing ever is for someone always growing, always wanting more from life at such a young age.
“Can I have bread?”
Trevor, half way through his bitter coffee, turns to Sypha then Alucard as all three parental figures exchange glances. They haven’t the heart to tell Mirele. No bread at the ready, only the necessary ingredients and a considerable amount of flour bags to blanket Enisala. There’s the option of making it themselves, yet it depends on a certain someone’s capacity for patience.
“How do you feel about baking our own?” Trevor’s voice wavers, which he tries to mask with his characteristic dry tone. It’s been a long time since he’s made bread. Then again, helping the manor cooks was a somewhat selfish endeavour as it meant extra servings for the baby of the Belmonts. Yet his proposal goes over well with Mirele, whose inherited eyes light up at the prospect of trying something new.
“I wanna make bread! Can we? Can we please?”
“When was the last time you baked anything, Trevor?” Alucard asks, genuinely curious and with a healthy dose of skepticism. “You still won’t tell us much about anything concerning your former life, let alone the sort of foods your family ate.”
Trevor feels a twinge in his gut—still better than a punch. His two lovers, even his daughter, they only know of his mother; a matriarch in her own right. They know her name, the monsters she killed, and not much else. Trevor’s excuses: he doesn’t remember anything about her, despite the fact that he does. He didn’t know her for very long or very well, so there’s no point in missing her. Trevor did know Sonia and he does miss her, sometimes more than he can handle. Then the easiest excuse: it’s just another self-preservation tactic.
Out of this inner reflection comes an idea. It breaks tradition in a way. For the Belmonts and other Jewish families, everything is passed down through the mother—recipes, forms of worship, blood memories, centuries old tactics of bruising one’s knuckles and temples. Trevor doesn’t think this slight deviation from his culture’s norm will make him any less of what he’s always been. Mirele will simply have to pick up where he left off when she’s grown.
He doesn’t want to think about that now. She’s only five after all. One lesson at a time.
“Alright. Gather round, pupils. The bread we’re making isn’t just any bread. Forget everything you know and everything you’ve been taught because this will be the closest thing to heaven you’ll ever taste.”
“How dramatic…” Sypha mutters under her breath. Alucard joins her amusement with a subdued chuckle.
“I believe you were partially his influence.”
Trevor knows how much trouble he’ll be in if he puts Mirele through the most agonizing cruelty of waiting a second longer than necessary. Fearful of her pint-sized wrath, he gives everyone the order to start gathering ingredients: flour, eggs, honey, and some indulgent herbs to make this particular bread something special. As much of a strategic leader in the kitchen as he is when the world is coming to an end. With everything spread out on the countertops, Trevor guides his family step by step through the only recipe he remembers. He calls this bread “challah”, which Mirele immediately strains her freshly green vocal chords, trying to pronounce the word exactly as her father does. She quickly gives up and focuses on mixing the ingredients with an intense look—almost to a fault as bits of sloppy dough fly out of the bowl. Good. This enthusiasm is what Trevor wants to see.
Kneaded and allowed time to rise, the next step is the most important. Trevor divides the dough into four halves, then again, and again until each participant has their own handful of raw unbaked strips.
“We have to braid them?” Mirele asks following his explanation.
“That’s right. It’s what makes this bread different from all the rest.”
“Just like when papa let’s me braid his pretty hair!”
Every pair of eyes turns to Alucard, whose smile widens in that way which causes his eyes to shut tightly. Fangs happily bared as he pulls Mirele into his flour and dough covered arms while she giggles in delight. After they all return to work, her loaf turns out the same way as the braids she gives to him—lopsided, uneven, lacking a few outsticking stray hairs, but filled with affection and genuine resolve.
Three loaves are placed into the oven, including a fourth crudely constructed but still adequately done piece. Mirele is now more willing to play the waiting game—so she claims. Sitting in front of the oven while staring directly into its insides, utterly fascinated, oblivious to her surroundings. Unaware that her three parents are whispering behind her back. Eventually, Sypha has to gently pull her away with her bottom dragging along the kitchen floor.
“How about you and I do something a little more interesting while your fathers keep watch over things.”
“But what about the c… the calla!”
“Don’t worry, they will look after it. And we are not going far, my sweet.”
“We’ll make sure nothing burns down.” Trevor assures, despite it being Sypha who usually revels in cinders and ashes, intentionally or not.
The two retreat down the corridor past diamond shaped stained windows and into one of the manor’s smaller libraries where the cabinets reach the high ceiling painted in deep blue hues. Scattered from corner to corner are constellations of stars and midnight clouds obscuring each phase of the moon. Once when Alucard found Mirele curiously asleep atop a number of pillows when she should have been in her own bed, it was his decision to paint the library in new colours. Sypha moves aside an entire shelf of thick volumes as though trying to find a carefully hidden switch that will lead them into a secret chamber. It’s what Mirele hopes but turns mildly disappointed when the books do not in fact magically shift to reveal a stone passageway. Her soured anticipation is only countered when Sypha places a box on the desk.
“Can you guess what’s inside?”
“Is it treasure?”
“Close! You are almost right.” Sypha opens the lid just as Pandora did except there are no horrors, no evils to be wrought upon humanity. Mirele peeks inside and her eyes shine with the glistening silver of trinkets, pendants, and talismans. She resists the innate urge to reach her hands, still white with flour, into the box only to briefly experience the sensation of holding one between her fingers. Even children know when something is sacred.
“These belonged to your grandparents. They used them for protection and strength. A long time ago, before you were born, their home burned down and everything was destroyed.”
“Papa’s home?”
Sypha nods, grateful that this story now has its happy ending, slight as it may be. “However, when your other father started building the manor we live in, he found this box trapped amongst all the rubble. It managed to survive.”
“What do they say?”
Mirele points to one pendant molded in the shape of a sword. Inscribed along the curve of its ash-riddled blade are the Hebrew names of angels which must have been muttered by Sonia or Gabriel. The longer Mirele stares, attempting to decipher yet another new language, the brighter her cheeks grow red with frustration. Her mother acts quick just as her eyes begin to water.
“It’s alright if you don’t understand what any of them say.”
“I can learn! Please, mama? I promise I’ll study really hard!”
Sypha’s lips curl as Mirele continues her begging. Oh the mind of a child. How quickly it changes.
--
The kitchen feels hotter, wafting through the air. Enveloping the room and everything caught between its walls. Trevor stands by the oven, a thick cloth ready in his hand. It shouldn’t take much longer. At least there’s no stench of something burning. Almost makes him pine for the days of his family’s massive stone oven and how he would sneak around at night and pick out leftover morsels from inside like an insatiable mouse. Not unlike the actual beasts which he hunted throughout the hallways before moving onto larger prey typical of a Belmonts’ work—or as large as his own runtish body mass could handle.
Minutes of quiet pass, still eyeing the loaves with a keen gaze. Trevor’s concentration soon broken by the feeling of two arms wrapping around his softening yet still robust midsection. Slow and careful, until his back is pressed against an equally broad chest.
“Can I help you?” He asks as Alucard buries his face into the curvature of his shoulder blades.
“You’re already helping.” The dhampir, unchanging in his physical appearance (a revelation both Trevor and Sypha refuse to acknowledge for the time being), tightens his embrace.
“Something wrong?”
“No… I just enjoy feeling how much softer and warmer you’ve become.”
Trevor’s cheeks blush ever so pinker and not because of the oven’s heat. By now he should be used to Alucard’s sudden bouts of outward affection.
“You even smell better.”
There it is. Trevor thought he would be waiting forever to hear that little jab, though said with nothing but a good heart.
“That might be the herbs you’re smelling.”
Alucard shifts around so that the two of them are side by side, cheek to cheek, as he chuckles in Trevor’s ear. “Come here.”
He doesn’t offer a kiss, not where Trevor was expecting. Instead of his lips, Alucard singles out every patch of stray flour on his face, kissing, wiping, even licking them clean. Cheek, jawline, and nose. Trevor’s expression twists into a ticklish, surprisingly delighted facade.
“You’re a half vampire, not a cat.”
“Better to clean you now than later.”
“Always so fucking odd…”
“You love it.”
Much to his lucky stars, Trevor manages one curse mere seconds before Sypha and Mirele return. They let their daughter speak at a breakneck speed neither one can fully comprehend—something about silver pieces and whether they can teach her a new language—until one series of questions finally sticks.
“Is the bread ready yet? Can we eat it now? Can we please?”
Trevor placates Mirele by revealing the fruits of their joint hard earned labour: four freshly baked and perfectly shined challah loaves each representative of whoever did the braiding. She bounces in her chair before simmering down to an excited tremble once Trevor warns her of how they need to cool. In order to make this more of a meal, he rummages about in search of two other beacons from his childhood. He’s rewarded with one of the few fresh apples they have left while Sypha, ever in tune with his inner thoughts, grabs another small pot of honey for him.
Trevor thanks her by gently running his palm across her lower abdomen, over the growing bump. He keeps it there for just a second longer, a subtle gesture of love noticed by Sypha. Fingertips intertwined with each other, they join Alucard and Mirele at the table as the midday sun shines golden through the windows.
#castlevania#castlevania fanfiction#trevor belmont#alucard#alucard castlevania#sypha belnades#trephacard#my writing#*cvfic#jewish trevor
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ValVarez headcanons, pt 3
Here is the final part of the Judy/Fem!V headcanons. Thank you for checking these out, and as always, if any of this sparks interest have at it.
V deals with a lot of fixers. She's the hottest merc in town right now, and everybody knows her name. Judy has opinions on them, based solely on how V talks about them.
Rogue is a bitch, but she's Johnny's bitch so V resolves to just not speak about her much at all. Apparently she and Johnny made a deal not to talk about outputs, former or current, and Judy does not want to know what Johnny thinks of her.
By far, Regina is V's favorite, and Judy's too. Judy has seen the text messages between the two, and never once has Regina insulted her girl. Regina praises V and tells her she did a good job even if V can admit her performance was less than preem. When V talks about her day, she saves the Regina gigs for last so she can always end on a high note.
Wakako sounds every bit the Tyger Claw she is. Judy doesn't like her, in fact she is Judy's least favorite fixer in all of night city, and V can't deny feeling that way as well. V relays that Jackie always told her she would never get a "Good job" out of Wakko, but that's never stopped her from trying anyway.
Mr Hands sounds like something out of a cartoon. Even V admits he's a bit eccentric for a fixer, but she's only worked with him a "HANDful" of times so far so she doesn't really have a read on him.
El Capitan is a professional, through and through. V can appreciate that, and respects the way he cares about his mercs. Judy can appreciate that if her girl goes missing while working for him, he won't just write her off as a deadbeat who skipped town.
Dino is a character. V says he's loud and enthusiastic, always quick to openly tell V when he is impressed by her skills. He's the only fixer V has ever gone drinking with, and the first person since Jackie to drink her under the table.
Padre is someone V knew before she moved to Atlanta for two years. V seems to have a lot of respect for the way the man conducts business, and based on what V has told her, the man knows more about honor - true, Night City honor - than Takemura ever will.
When Judy meets Johnny for the first time later on, he will admit that was the moment he realized he was wrong about her. Judy won't ask him to elaborate, and he won't offer.
Dakota values family above all else. When V does a good turn for her in the Badlands, she is quick to offer solemn thanks, but when V makes a mistake she is even quicker to criticize. V makes a point to avoid Dakota whenever she swings by the Aldecaldos camp.
Sometimes V's fame is a double-edged sword, no pun intended. V admits while bandaging a gunshot wound in her arm that when gangoons see a woman sprinting towards them with a blade in hand, their first instinct is to shoot without thinking. They know they're outmatched and by reputation, V rarely shows mercy. V only laments that sometimes she isn't fast enough to reach them before the trigger gets pulled and an innocent is executed before her eyes.
V disappears on a mission for Johnny with Rogue, and comes back from it with an altered perspective. Johnny isn't the leech in V's head anymore, but apparently a broken man that against all odds has gotten a second chance. V tells Judy she is going to give Johnny the space to make amends, give him control for a while if he needs it. Judy disagrees, they argue, and this time it's Judy who shows up at V's door with an apology and an offer to watch Nibbles at her place, in case Johnny forgets to feed the cat.
V agrees, but only after relaying - through tears of laughter - a series of indignant rants from Johnny about how he can take care of a simple animal. There are also increasingly specific instructions from him about what she does and doesn't like.
Later, V will admit some worry over how Johnny knows so much about the cat's likes and dislikes, since she isn't sure they've ever interacted at all before. Not that she remembers, anyway.
Misty always seems to know when Judy is having a particularly bad day. Maybe that one dinner was enough to tune her into Judy's aura, or maybe Misty just has impeccable timing. Either way, Misty has a way of clarifying things that Judy has been stewing on in the most indirect manner Judy has ever experienced. Whether she has mystical powers or not, Judy can admit she has a strange knack for helping people.
V goes with Takemura to find a way to clear her name with Arasaka and get rid of the construct in her head. Instead, a parade becomes a battle ground, the Arasaka princess is kidnapped, and Takemura dies. She doesn't hear from or about V directly, but she does see her gonk of an output sprinting past Gillean Jordan's report moments after the reporter goes live.
When Panam shows up with a bottle of tequila and a bag of takeout the next day, Judy expects the worst. Turns out Panam had just been craving something other than nomad food, and Judy's apparently near one of her favorite hole-in-the-wall wonton shops.
V finds them later, giggling over trash TV and ineffectually trying to shoo Nibbles away from the empty containers. V is just glad Panam hasn't pushed her down to fourth favorite human in the cat's opinion.
After V relays the tale of the parade, Judy is grateful it's Panam expressing relief that Takemura died instead of V. Johnny must agree, or at least say something that V can't argue with, because she spends the next 15 minutes pouting on the rooftop. She comes back smelling of cigarettes and helps herself to any leftovers Nibbles has abandoned, grief shelved for the time being.
At some point in the night, Panam swears a blood-oath on-her-mother's-grave pinky-promise-guarantee that if anything happens to V, Judy has a home with the Aldecaldos and they will take her wherever she needs to go. Drunk Judy starts crying and can't stop, both touched at the offer and gripped with dread at the prospect.
Judy is also relieved that should her worst nightmare come true, at least she won't be alone.
V shows up after a day or two of running errands for Johnny with Kerry freaking Eurodyne's autograph and an honest to god pair of prescription glasses. Apparently Kerry gets a mild thrill out of making Johnny - in any form - wear the ridiculous square framed glasses. It's also the least he can do for V after literally getting the band back together.
V is ecstatic when they look out over the city and she can see more than just an admittedly impressive blur on the horizon for the first time since she was 14 or so. Judy is not so subtle about how sexy she finds V with them on.
They're both very disappointed when they break just a few days later.
Judy meets Johnny, and it goes as well as can be expected. Nibbles notices the difference first, and then Judy picks up on the differences. Really, the dark aviators around her neck and the frequent crotch scratching should have been a dead give away.
They have a meal that Judy throws together, Johnny polishes off the rest of the whiskey V brought over some nights ago, and the conversation is stilted but civil. Judy makes him sleep on her couch, and it takes a lot of coaxing from V - her V - to share a bed again after the strangeness of seeing a stranger watching her from V's face.
It really shouldn't be surprising that V has a lot of money saved up. Not only is she amazing at her job, but V picks up everything unclaimed that she finds lying around to sell, she doesn't buy cars because she sucks at driving anyway, and unlike most people in Night City, she doesn't really bother with adding more chrome to her arsenal. By that logic, it's no surprise at all.
Judy supposes the real shocker was finding out her output is officially a multimillionaire that runs around the city wearing two different shoes because she couldn't find a matching pair that didn't have blood on them.
It takes a lot of convincing, but she does manage to get V to go clothes shopping with her. In ends with V's new outfit getting ruined by a cyberpsycho attack. Zane can't issue a refund, but Judy is very appreciative of him calling V back in with the promise of a discount a few days later. Who knew her adorable murder machine would look so sexy dressed up like a corpo?
Judy finds a collection of shards in V's apartment, in a box under her computer desk. It should be creepy that V has dozens of shards from random dead people she finds in the city. V explains that they're all victims, not of her, but of various unfortunate happenings in Night City. They all seem to be either right before they died, or something that jumped to the fore of their mind as they were crossing over.
V explains, as gently as she can, that the shards remind her of how Evie kept replaying the fight she and Judy had during her darkest moments. V didn't want them to just get tossed away and forgotten so she kept them. Judy may not be able to say it yet, but she makes sure V at least feels the love Judy has for her in that moment.
Kerry turns out to be a needy bitch, if Judy gets to have an opinion on the situation. He only seems to call V for things at 2 in the morning, when they've both just managed to fall asleep after a very long day. Maybe she's just aggravated that V is always willing to drag herself out of bed to help a friend in need with his stupid rivalry. Nibbles isn't nearly as warm a bedmate, but somehow hogs more of the covers.
V sends a selfie of herself and River, a mountain of chopped veggies between them and Judy can't help but think it isn't fair. Nothing is fair in Night City, but that V is dying now, when she's making friends and learning new skills as though she isn't close to flatlining at any moment is just Not. Fair.
Judy fixes her makeup before calling to tease V about how her chopping skills need some work. V is indignant at the very thought, and River assures her they've been practicing. V promises to bring some over later, and Judy's heart swells with affection.
Kerry and V destroy a yacht, and V announces it's officially the most expensive vehicle she has ever destroyed. Johnny is insistent that the Porsche she wrapped around a pole 30 seconds after taking the wheel was priceless, and the internal argument is apparently so intense that neither notice when Judy goes to bed for the night.
Everything happens fast, or at least suddenly. V's condition has progressed too far, and if something is gonna happen it's gotta happen now. V still makes time to call Judy before she goes off for what could be her last gig.
Judy spends the next few days occupying as much of her time as she can with editing their BD. If she stops working, she starts worrying, and she can't afford to lose faith that V will come back to her. Not now.
When she gets the call from Panam, she can't help but physically sag in relief. V did it. There isn't much time though, so Judy grabs the already prepared bags - one for her, one for V, and one for Nibbles. As she shuts the door to her apartment behind her, she feels like she's finally going home.
The second they get a quiet moment alone together, Judy informs V that she is not going to be the one to tell Mama Welles they ditched the city.
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actual fucking quotes from the shiftblr coffeehouse discord server
out of context of course, what do you take me for? a sane person?
"they made lightning mcqueen hot"
"inch resting"
"Nix: Cars (2006) several people are typing..."
"im evaporating"
"enjoy precipitation"
"tow mater is more attractive than lightning mcqueen/hj"
"lightning mcqueen looks like he would call me a slur"
"why did I come back to a discussion regarding the attractiveness of vehicles"
"lark is the braincell of shiftblr tbh"
"you all need some grass in your life"
"me over here simping for block men and now literal cars"
"didn't nick wilde commit fraud canonically"
"i have no strong opinions on whether or not nick wilde is attractive"
"I AM AROMANTIC AND I AM NOT IMMUNE TO NICK WILDE"
"I am bisexual and I. Am not into Nick Wilde based on a simple fact he looks like he will drink all my pepsi and call me names"
"What is shiftbkr but not a bunch of simps"
"cries in Bianca Monroe"
"listen i have a folder called gayass
it is mostly pictures of kyoka jiro and virgil sanders"
"Nick Wilde x Reader where he steals your car 📷 carjacker to lovers AU 📷"
"he says "mama i like to step on keyboard""
"MY MOM JUST WALKED IN AND I HAD TO TELL HER I WAS LOOKING AT LIGHTING MC QUEEN HUMAN FANART"
"crab walks away"
""Y/N..." Nick whispered into your ear. "Your car...is a Honda Civic, right?" You looked up at Nick with a baffled expression. "Nick, my beloved? Whatever are you talking about?" "Just asking..." He said as he let you out of his embrace. "Hey, wanna see a magic trick, babe?" Your eyes sparkled. "Really, Nick? Of course!" Nick smiled. "Ok, close your eyes!" You giggled and closed your eyes, waiting for Nick to tell you to open up. Instead, you heard the loud rumble of a car starting up, and you open your eyes. Nick has stolen your car, and he has driven off into the sunset..."
"did y'all know his name used to be canonically Montgomery--he changed it to lightning mcqueen to get rid of his past"
"That is my exit number"
"cars trauma arc"
"wait do y'all know about car jesus"
"as if jesus wasn't a ford focus in the bible"
"oh yall do not want to know about the trauma in my cars dr lmao"
"Dewit tau style babey make Lightning McQueen outlive everyone and stalk their reincarnations"
"Do they baptize other cars in like gasoline then"
"there is a pope car in the cars universe which means car jesus died for cars sins"
"NOT THE BOOMER MEMES"
"-lays facedown on the floor while caramelldansen plays-"
"like im serious how many of you guys endorse me falling face down on my floor" (NOT THE SAME PERSON AS PREVIOUS QUOTE)
"I will be Tall and no one can stop me"
"is a soft floor?"
"stop I thought faceplant meant like a succulent in the shape of a face instead of falling onto your noggin for a solid 10 seconds"
"Touch some grass??? What about eating grass"
"what if for every employee of the month i just printed out really horrible boomer memes"
"what ab smoking grass /j"
"Can the grassdirt smoothie be a special in the cafe"
"PLEASE IM ROLLING ON THE FLOOR REWRITINH THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE WHIKE SPEEDRUNINT MINECRAFT"
"you have to get good dirt from like the middle of a pennsylvanian forest for it to taste good though"
"I ate a four leaf clover as a kid cause i thought it would make me lucky"
"guys how do i see the mee6 leaderboard"
"I used to think i was half dragon and I ate plants out of sidewalk cracks"
"i think i punched someone"
"my parents told me to stop doing that so I looked at them and ate a flower"
"I ate grass when I was 9 bc I read warrior cats and thought I was a medicine cat ....................."
"bees are just spicy flies"
"I had a mental breakdown when I was three cause I didn’t know how to turn off a phone"
"My mom drank a bee once"
"when I was a baby I kinned ink sans."
"bro who here find the yellow hat man from curious george fine as heck 📷📷📷"
"mY LUNGSSSSSS"
"no one topping Him"
"I like em big"
"I think Moto Moto has no game like move over hunky boy I could beat you 1v1 Roblox Arsenal 📷📷📷"
"If you didnt have a crush on springtrap, jeff the killer, or Underfell/Gaster/Error sans don't talk to me /j"
"LOOK THEY'RE BOTH DILFS WITH ABS THAT WOULD FIGHT GOD"
"ZORO IS BANNED"
"Guys please help I found my old fnaf fanart from when I was 8 I'm in literal tears"
"OH NO BOT MY FIFTH GRADE HAMILTON PHASE"
"The worst attraction ive ever had has to be Sombra Overwatch"
"My family is like "save all ur art so I can sell it when you're famous" I literally could not sell this if I tried"
"screaming puppet"
"I just remembered Ive drawn overwatch/hamilton crossover fanart"
"my hermit crabs ate each other again"
"we're cannibals ????"
"having me here is a curse you have inflicted on yourselves and I for one am glad for it <3"
"scitters around like a crab in anticipation"
"CARB DAY"
"WE NEED TO HAVE A WATCH OARTY"
"hey y'all ill be right back i have to throw away a crab carcass"
"if I watch cars I'm going to start laughing in the middle of it nonstop just because the word cars is funny and also cars are funny like how do you move silly little metal box with rubber circles"
"Lark asleep post catboy pitbul"
"Mwista Wowldwide! Nya!"
"hermit crab 2: electric boogaloo"
"Is that why your name is chaos"
"manifest the crab power!!"
"cool dex fact: i can't read 📷"
"sighs adds to worship these entities list"
"with a knife <3"
"yeah and if he betrays me I could probably throw him across the atlantic ocean"
"give me his eyes"
"my good citizen i am a- wait no im nonbinary nvm"
"it worked on a fish idk what to tell you"
"what is gender??? Is that a board game?? If so can I be apples to apples that one's my favorite"
"CHUTES AND LADDERS"
"anyways actually my gender is Candyland"
"Oh god romes the destroyer of friendships/j"
"i am a simple gay i see math i run in the opposite direction
survival instincts 101"
"math my beloathed"
"algebra makes me want to rip open a bag of swedish fish and swallow them whole"
"cackles in they're au characters and this will be very fun"
"pog !!!! me too ksajgks one of my drs is a sanders sides au"
"Is that bipper"
"tumblr sexyman"
"Good because he’ll fuck u up if u hurt a child"
"I want a wing-suit"
"looks like a bean would poison someone"
"my hermit crabs are cannibals what can i say"
"sonic the hedgehog kinnie"
"get yourself a man who is capable of the most ungodly actions but won't do them because of their morality owo"
"tell him he can steal my wallet"
"eyes"
"idk about y'all but I need blueberry sweet tea to live"
"y'know the red souls from soul eater
i really want to eat those"
"but like only respectable crimes like stealing from elon musk"
"You can go cultbashing with he!"
"He acts like a flamboyant gay man, but if a flamboyant gay man was straight."
"Simp Satan 📷"
"definitely arson"
"They look like they enjoy lemon squares and other lemon desserts"
"Satan is all-powerful but he spends most of his time building honeymoon locations because he is convinced that the protag loves him"
"bc shes the reincarnation of his dead wife or something i guess"
annd here's a quote from our very own dream (@shiftingwastaken) that sums this post up:
"shiftblr but context makes it worse"
#not shifting#shitpost#out of context#tw cannibalism#tw stealing#tw poison#tw swearing#tw: drugs#tw: smoking#tw: death
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the big, bad wolf || hwang hyunjin oneshot
》》 pairing: hyunjin x female reader
》》 summary: every year, you and the boys celebrate halloween with a party at hyunjin's - who just so happens to be your mortal frenemy. every year, you all dress up. this year, however, you decide to make it a bit more interesting: everyone picks an outfit for their random secret santa partner. it seems like a bit of innocent fun, but felix has an idea...
》》 word count: 2.4k
》》 genre/tags: halloween au, not quite e2l but e2 like...sexy tension???, suggestive themes (mostly just implications), a little bit of crack lmao
》》 warnings: cliche cheesy dirty flirting (come on hyunjin you're better than this), thicc romantic and sexual tension, reader is a simp in denial, suggestive themes, implied smut at the end, talk of biting but no actual biting, reader has dom vibes, hyunjin is bold until someone else is bolder
》》 notes: my first oneshot on this blog! I already wrote a halloween drabble, but I felt like writing something bigger than that and my friend (I see u vi) inspired me by suggesting some spicy hyunjin content. n e ways, happy halloween everyone! and if u don’t celebrate halloween, I hope u have a lovely weekend <3
navigation || skz masterlist
Halloween is always fun with your friend group. I mean, it's fun anyway - lots of cheap candy, neighbourhood celebrations, an excuse to get way too drunk - it's just a lot more fun with eight other crackheads.
You guys have a sort of tradition going by now, even though each year is a bit different. Hyunjin throws the party, Minho brings the alcohol and hides it from Chan until it's too late to stop everyone from getting shitfaced, Jeongin and Felix bring ungodly amounts of candy, and Jisung is a skeleton (literally every single year - it started when you called Tate Langdon's skeleton makeup hot, and it never ended).
Everyone (except Jisung) keeps their costume a secret - unless they're Chan and Felix, in which case they do couple costumes and keep it a secret from everyone else. Sometimes you even decide on a theme, like the year before the last, where everyone was supposed to dress as their favourite Pokemon. This inevitably led to intense fighting roleplays to assert dominance as your respective type, and in order to spare your reputation in the neighbourhood, you decided the next theme would be a little less wild.
This year, the theme was 'secret Santa costumes', meaning you each picked a random name from a hat to decide who you would be buying a costume for and a few days before Halloween, you were given your own costume to wear to the party by whoever pulled your name from the hat of destiny.
Technically that's not how secret Santa works, but no one questions Chan when it comes to holiday business.
You just so happened to get Jisung, and while the temptation to keep the skeleton thing going just for the meme was definitely there, you ultimately decided he should be a classic bedsheet ghost - except with no eye or hand holes cut out. You know, to add a little sprinkle of chaos to his already very chaotic life.
The lovely boy who decided your spooky fate was Felix, who had coincidentally been in charge of buying Hyunjin’s costume too - when you asked why, he said it was because the number of people was uneven, so he had kindly volunteered to take on an extra. You had honestly expected him to pick something weird or wild for you, so you were quite surprised by the outfit he had settled on.
"Is this...little red riding hood?" you had asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you stared at the dress and hood in your hands.
"Yep! I saw it the other day and I thought it would be nice to go for one of the classics, you know?" he had explained, smiling as if he was ever so proud about his decision. Something about the hint of mischief in his eyes made you suspicious, but you had let it slide. "You don't mind, right?"
No, you didn't mind. You had given Jisung a ghost costume, so you didn’t really have room to speak on the originality of Felix’s decision. Besides, the dress didn’t look too cheap, nor did it look especially short, and the hood-cape made you feel way too powerful for someone wearing a $20 Target costume.
So you really didn't mind at all, until it came to the day of the party. Now, as you stand in the doorway to Hyunjin’s apartment, you suddenly mind a lot more.
”Lee Felix, I’m going to decorate the lawn with your fucking intestines, oh my god!” you whisper-yell to the boy who conveniently manages to dart away with the excuse of needing to help Jeongin open all the candy bags. Your angry eyes follow his retreating blue form - Chan picked his outfit this year, and of course he decided Felix should be an Among Us character.
Everyone in the group knows about the slight tension (read: obvious beef) between you and Hyunjin. Technically speaking, you’re friends. He invites you to his parties, you hang out with him when he’s with the boys. It’s just that neither of you can stand each other, because you’re both very bold and even more stubborn.
Whenever the two of you are together, you bicker like children and it’s pretty much endless. You could probably throw insults (and the occasional murder threat) at each other all day if the other members didn’t interrupt, and on those days you’d be more than happy to teach Hyunjin a lesson with a nice, strong punch in the nose if the opportunity were ever to present itself.
So, with this in mind, it’s quite clear why you’re planning Felix’s murder when you see Hyunjin walking around as the big, bad wolf.
You’re genuinely considering sneaking out the front door before anyone else sees you and running back to your apartment (because Felix just so happens to be your ride home), but fate decides to mess with you and suddenly, Hyunjin locks eyes with you from across the living room.
The way a huge smile instantly graces his pretty face sends a rush of butterflies, followed by anger, through you as you stare back at him. His clip on wolf ears are admittedly quite cute, but the fake fangs he’s wearing send your thoughts in a very different direction. As he makes his way over, you suddenly wish you had followed Felix to the kitchen - at least they keep the alcohol in there. In his living room, you’ve got no choice but to deal with Hyunjin while sober.
”Well, would you look at that? Seems like I found my little red riding hood.” he teases with a wink, leaning against the wall beside the door.
When you scoff at him, he gives you another big grin and you can’t help but stare at the fangs again. The vibrant blue contact lenses he’s wearing make his gaze feel intense even when he’s smiling, and the way his long, blonde hair falls freely gives him a glow that’s both angelic and positively demonic. He looks so annoyingly handsome, as per usual; if only his personality wasn’t the personification of the words ‘cocky asshole’. You can’t help but think it’s a huge waste of beauty.
“Excuse me-” you begin, ready to start the first round of arguing, but he cuts you off like the annoying brat he is.
“You’re excused,” he says, thinking his comment was very smart, and if it wasn’t a night meant for fun and games, you might’ve killed him on the spot.
“Fine, excuse you. I’m not your little red riding hood. In fact, I’m not your anything, thank you very much,” you snap, brushing past his tall figure as you head to the table the boys have set up to the side. There’s an array of Halloween-themed food, prepared by Chan, and you settle for a red velvet cupcake decorated with black frosting and what you assume are meant to be cat ears poking out of it.
“Right, sure, but we’re still matching tonight. It’s kind of like-”
This time, you cut him off. “It’s not like Chan and Felix. It’s not. We’re not wearing couple costumes, so don’t say it.”
He shuts his mouth (finally) and you take it as your cue to leave before he says something else to piss you off. Unfortunately, he seems to have the desire to ruin your night further and chooses to follow you on your journey.
“So anyway, I guess this was Felix’s plan, right?” He gestures to your costumes. “Unless you had something to do with it, that is.”
You don’t bother to address the second part of what he said and instead just nod, scanning the room for the previously mentioned mastermind. As soon as you can get your hands on that boy, you swear you’ll slaughter him for subjecting you to Hyunjin’s torturous teasing all night.
“He was already on thin ice after trying to tell me Bulbasaur is a better starter than Charmander, but now he’s actually dead to me,” you growl out once you spot him sitting beside Minho, laughing happily with his classic red solo cup and a slice of chocolate cake. Jeongin sits beside them, tearing open bags of candy with no assistance from Felix, because of course he was lying about helping him earlier.
Hyunjin laughs softly and you curse your heart for skipping a beat at the sound. Sometimes it feels like your head hates Hyunjin while your body is stupid enough to like him, and it’s part of the reason why you hate talking to him so much. Every time you stop throwing insults and sass at him and instead sit back and listen to what he has to say, a part of you realises you don’t exactly have a proper reason for disliking him. He’s not all that bad, and sometimes you even find yourself laughing at his jokes and witty remarks.
But you’d really rather not go through the endless cycle of those thoughts right now, especially when the cause of your problems is standing beside you eating a chocolate bar.
“I have to say, though,” you comment as you turn to look him up and down, “the big, bad wolf concept suits you pretty well.”
Before he can accept the compliment, you continue. “You’re both big, hairy beasts who dress like grandmas.”
The obvious offence on his face is so satisfying you almost wanna snap a photo to reflect on this moment in the future, but you refrain from doing so. He would just pose anyway, and the photo would probably end up making your stupid heart flutter again.
“Well, at least you think I’m big. Besides, if dressing like a grandma gets me closer to eating you, then I suppose it’s a sacrifice I’ll have to make,” he whispers in a husky, seductive voice that kind of makes you want to choke-slam him, but you suspect he might enjoy that anyway.
It angers you when he makes flirty comments like that, because as annoying as they are and despite you knowing full well he only says it to get under your skin, it still makes your heart race every time. Maybe in another universe, Hyunjin is a sweet boy who innocently flirts with you and brings you roses instead of a big, bad bitch who’s just acting like a horny teenager. Annoyingly enough though, you think you’d fall for him either way.
You turn away with the intention of finally escaping to the kitchen to grab something to drink, hoping to settle the thoughts dancing around your head, but he reaches for your wrist. The feeling of his fingers pressing warmth into your skin just makes your head spin even more, and you’re so distracted you don’t pull away from him.
"Aw, don’t run away now. Are you scared of me, little red? There’s no need to be, I’m just joking. I won’t bite unless you beg me to."
You pull your arm back as soon as the words leave his mouth. Hyunjin has a lot of things (a severely irritating personality, a stupidly handsome face for such an asshole, a loud voice solely meant for pissing you off on a daily basis, the list goes on), but the thing he definitely has most is the fucking audacity.
However, the most annoying part by far is the way you feel your face heat up when you register the last thing he said. You’d rather die than let him make you flustered, so you shake your head slightly to clear those thoughts from your mind and look him in the eye again.
"Scared? Me?" you scoff, staring him down with a steady glare and if he was anyone else, he'd probably shiver in fear.
Unfortunately, he is not anyone else. He is Hwang Hyunjin, and Hwang Hyunjin does not shiver; he beams with a smug grin and makes your blood boil.
"Mhm. Look at you. You’re basically dressed as my prey tonight, babe." He purrs the pet name like the absolute fuckboy he is. "And sure, the real you is feisty, but you're all bark and no bite."
The overly confident, proud smirk on his face makes him look like a damn peacock flaunting its feathers, and you decide then and there that you'll do anything to get rid of it.
"All bark," you echo his words, walking towards him slowly, "and no bite, huh?"
You swear you see his eyes widen for a split second at your change in demeanor before the stupid smirk returns, and the little rush of victory you feel from catching him off guard is enough to keep you walking forward.
His gaze never leaves yours, especially when you're standing on the tips of your toes in front of him, noses just barely brushing against each other. Your hands grip his shoulder to balance you, and you run a finger over his collarbone up towards his cheek, where you gently cup his face. The small distance between the two of you means you can hear his slightly uneven breathing and see the curiosity swirling in his bright blue eyes as he waits for your next move.
You reach a hand up and thread your fingers through his long, bleach blonde hair, and his breath hitches when you gently tug at it. Even his wolf ears almost seem to droop submissively. He doesn't dare move, but his eyes keep flicking down to your lips and back up again.
"Now, that's just not true at all, is it?" you whisper, tilting your head as if waiting for an answer, but he can't find the words to form a witty response. It’s about time he learned some manners, really, even if he needed your guidance for that.
"I'm warning you now," you continue, "you might wanna watch your tone. I might look like your prey, but I promise I bite harder than you do, babe."
You make sure to emphasise the pet name, purring it in the same way he did minutes before. He bites down on his bottom lip, and the way his fangs press into them makes you lick your own lips nervously. It seems as though he can't take the tension anymore, because he goes to lean in and finally close the distance between the two of you as his hands find your hips.
Of course, you'd never let him have that control, especially after his bold attitude from earlier. Even though the temptation to lean in is certainly there, you step away from him and smile sweetly.
"Learned your lesson yet, puppy?"
He doesn’t respond for a moment, clearly still taking in what just happened. When he registers your question, he tilts his head to the side as if in thought - the way a dog might, funnily enough - before he hums quietly.
“I’m not sure. Maybe you should teach me once more, little red,” he suggests, voice low and slightly breathless, “but preferably a bit more in depth this time.”
- ᴇ ɴ ᴅ -
(A/N: AHHHHH I haven’t written a oneshot in SUCH a long time oh my god,,,,, it was a lot of fun tho even if I’m not super confident writing full things. this one was short anyway so I kinda feel like it doesn’t count, but I’m still v happy to finally post my first skz oneshot! I hope you enjoyed it and thank you for reading <3)
© santastic — all rights reserved. reposting, translating, copying and/or stealing is prohibited. ask permission if you wish to create anything inspired by my original ideas.
#hyunjin#hwang hyunjin#stray kids#stray kids hyunjin#skz#skz hyunjin#hyunjin fic#hyunjin fluff#hyunjin fanfic#hyunjin imagine#hyunjin scenario#skz fluff#skz fic#skz fanfic#stray kids scenario#stray kids imagine#stray kids fic#stray kids fanfic#hyunjin x reader#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#halloween fic#enemies to lovers#e2l#skz e2l#stray kids e2l#skz oneshot#stray kids oneshot#hyunjin oneshot#santastic oneshot
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What's a new headcanon you've come up with from any of your fandoms?
x Hetalia
- Ivan and Alfred have boy night and it's honestly a self care night where they talk about their feelings and do face masks and eat a lot of junk food. I can't stand the constant fighting that RusAme shippers are always having so I have to make the boys soft. Of course that doesn't mean they don't pick at each other, Ivan still makes fun of Alfred for not being able to get a perfect on Just Dance in Rasputin. And Alfred still picks on Ivan for not being able to say certain English words.
- Ivan visits his parent's graves every year and leaves dozens of sunflowers. He also visits Red Herd's final resting place and even though their relationship was rocky he respects the dead and leaves a single sunflower.
- Also it's 2021 Ivan is no longer just some looney toon who lives in a bubble of his own world. He is hyper self aware of himself and his issues and is trying to convey that even though his flaws are well known he is trying to get better. He knows when he comes off too strong and he knows when his bad habits are starting to surface that's why he does self isolation to not only give others their space but to also give himself time to calm down.
x Danny Phantom
- Danny and Vlad are way too overprotective of Dani when he comes to her dates. No matter if Dani is going out with a guy or a girl these two are always partnering up to high sky spy on her. She catches them every time and chews them out but they continue to do it. This all started because Dani went on a date with a ghost hunter's son who wanted to capture and experiment on ghosts despite Amity being a ghost friendly place.
- Vlad has a sun hat collection that he wears with pride. Before his ghost accident, he genetically had sensitive skin and wore sunblock whenever the sun was fully out. Even though his powers make it possible for him to withstand the sun he still prefers to wear his hats
x Hazbin Hotel
- Alastor is a family man who never got the chance to have a family. Charlie and Vaggie are like daughters to him (I really don't understand the romantic shipping but no hate on the shippers) Which means Alastor is the type of dad to leave small gifts around the hotel for Charlie and Vaggie. He is the very annoying (loving) dorky dad.
x BNHA
- Tosh used to body a bag of sunflower seeds like he was an ex-smoker....because he was. David got him into smoking but was also the one to tell him to stop. Now since he can't really eat solids he sucks on the seeds and spits them out. Midnight has yelled at him countless times to stop doing that but Tosh has bad habits that are hard to break.
x Tai makes the best salads. like this man can already throw down in the kitchen but he can make even the strongest salad hater eat his salads. He isn't a picky eater what so ever but there are some foods he will not touch simply due to the fact he didn't know what he was eating until after it was gone. He will not eat KYs.
x JojoBA
- Bruno demands a beach day every month, this man has to visit the water and become one with the water or else he will be crabby as fuck and everyone will be on the receiving end of it.
- Bruno also has a mullet but you wouldn't know because he braids the back up into his little front braid and clips it. The only time he will let his hair down is when he is going to sleep but then he ponytails it and puts on a bonnet. Good luck tryna see it down
x Undertale
- Mtt doesn't always like staying in his EX body. He will go back to his box form to just zip around and its very nostalgic. He also thinks he looked better in the blue dress in box form than EX.
- Mtt is the same as Sans and remembers every restart but never says anything because he isn't aware that he isn't the only one. Alphas accidentally uploaded his mind to the Earthbound internet instead of the underground internet so every time he is "rebooted" his mind is all the same.
x TMNT
- Mikey developed a klepto habit from Donnie but no one is aware it's them stealing stuff, Raph is always being blamed. Mikey has stolen something from everyone in the house and hides it under a junk pile. He has also stolen from humans while out but it's never anything major just little things.
- Mikey owns an Esty shop where he customizes shoes.
x TF
- Bumblebee spends more time in his holoform now that he has one. He craves the human experience unlike everyone else. It's gotten to the point he'll forget he is in alt form and tries to "eat".
x Disney
- Curella is a variant of the devil who was born with her soul being signed away as it is a part of her family. She is the youngest out of 12
- She had a fling with Evil Step Mother and Hades.
- Strongly not a cat person and actually loves dogs.
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Of all the many people in the world who wanted him dead, All For One had to admit that he was rather surprised by the person who actually managed to both track him down and get past his impressive security.
He knew someone was there the moment he opened the door. Could sense the presence of another person in his high rise apartment that shouldn’t have been there. A steady heartbeat, unflinching and unafraid. Brave or stupid, he wasn’t sure, but they’d be dead either way once he wrung out of them how they’d gotten in and which of his security detail he was going to have to kill.
He shrugged off his coat - it was new and fit him well, he’d rather not get blood on it - and hung it up carefully by the front door. Slipped off his shoes and rolled his shoulders with a sigh. Though that particular apartment was not homey per se, there was something oddly comforting about returning to a living space that was entirely his own at the end of a day. Though centuries ago, a childhood fraught with uncertain living situations and inconsistent care had left marks on him that time and power had not fully been able to shake.
All the more reason to make the intruder’s death slow, as insignificant a threat as they were, they’d at least been able to find him. Which meant finding a new luxury apartment, perhaps even in a new city. And he despised moving.
He kept his steps light on the polished wooden floors, stopping by the oversized and little used kitchen for some water before he meandered his way towards the living room where his uninvited guest waited. Perhaps he’d throw them out the window, eighty stories up would make for a rather long time to think about their impending death. Or maybe tear them apart inch by literal inch so they had to languish in their suffering.
Setting his glass down on the kitchen counter he stepped into his spacious living room and paused at what sat waiting for him.
All For One, Emperor of Darkness, King of all Villains, Boogeyman of the Boogeymen found himself...uncertain.
There was a woman seated on his couch. Casually dressed and relaxed looking, knees drawn up and tucked beneath her, an open book bag on the floor beside where she sat and a law textbook in hand. She finished highlighting a section carefully before capping the marker and turning her gaze on to him, letting him see her face properly for the first time.
Green eyes were the first thing that struck him. Clear and bright and intelligent, set in a kind face. Her hair, also green, was swept down a little past her shoulders with half of it pulled up in a fluttering little bun at the back of her head. He was struck by two thoughts as he took her in.
The woman sitting before him was entirely unintimidated by him.
And...
She looked a bit like Nana Shimura.
The woman tilted her head, seeming to take him in while he’d been observing her. She shifted on the couch a little, shutting the book softly and setting it down. Her heartbeat was steady, her gaze unflinching but not combative. Purpose seemed to flow off of her, as resolute as her steady gaze. He understood that she knew exactly who he was and felt no need for fear nor sense of unease in his presence. A strong will, he knew the aura he carried around him well and it was someone interesting indeed who could face the overwhelming killing intent that drifted off him in waves without so much as a flicker of uncertainty.
“Hello.” She said with a soft, clear voice. The kind of ease one has with an acquaintance or a friend not often seen, not a stranger whose house she had invaded. “I’m sorry to have broken in like this.” She started, with the appropriate level of apology one would save for knocking over a stranger’s drink. “But I was hoping you’d be able to help me.”
He should be irritated, he should just kill her and get on with his evening, he should make her an example for anyone else stupid enough to think they could waltz into his home without consquence.
He wasn’t irritated though. And he didn’t kill her. Instead he found himself oddly...charmed by the stranger that sat before him.
“Indeed?” He asked blandly, slipping his hands into his pockets before leaning against the wall casually. “I’m afraid you’re rather lost if you think this is a police station.”
The woman broke into a small smile, a soft huffing chuckle leaving her. Shaking her head she dropped her gaze for a moment and he saw the faint pink of a blush on her cheeks. He was, he realized. He was absolutely charmed by her. And it wasn’t even her Quirk doing it, hers had the feel of a gravitational telekinesis, not a mood altering ability. The woman that sat before him, who had broken into his home and casually asked him for help as if searching for her stray cat, was oddly endearing. And it had been a long time since he had found himself endeared by anything, let alone a person.
“Sorry,” She said, shifting on the couch. “I’ve probably done this all wrong. But I wanted you to know I was serious.” Green eyes met his own and he was struck again by the intelligence he saw in her gaze. “I don’t know why I thought this would be the way to do it but…” She gave a shrug, then slowly got to her feet. Careful not to topple her bag or trip as she untangled from her comfortable position on the couch. “Here, let me try again.”
He watched as she gave a short, polite bow, hands clasped before her. A neat and polite introduction, complete with a soft smile as she rose to meet his gaze again. “My name is Midoriya Inko. I’m a graduate law student at Kyushu University, and I was hoping you could take my Sensei’s Quirk.”
Well.
How on earth was he supposed to kill such a charming, polite young woman when she came to him with such an interesting request such as that?
He couldn’t, of course, was the answer.
---
Inko always had trouble with authority.
Even when she was very young she’d been prone to doing what she was told she shouldn’t just because an adult told her not too. Her father - in what faint and blurring memories she had of him before his death - used to call her his little revolutionary and would laugh over the hijinks her stubborn nature would produce. Then again, her father had his reasons to support the wholesale refusal to bend to the whims of authority.
Trying to take down the corrupt system the government had put in place had been the cause of his death, after all.
Her mother had been far less amused by Inko’s acts of rebellion for rebellion’s sake. Always begging Inko to please just follow the rules just once honey with a perpetually exhausted look on her face. Inko’s only picture of her mother - a snapshot of the entire family at a park, her small frame held in her father’s arms a month before he would be killed - showed Nana Shimura with a wide, infectious smile in place. It felt odd looking at it in years to come, as Inko could only recall her mother looking mournful and sad in those last days.
It had been Kotaro that was the well behaved one of the two of them. Thirteen minutes older than her, he took the responsibilities of the eldest sibling with a seriousness that was almost frightening at times when they’d been children.
He’d been the one to tell her not to get into trouble, the one to reprimand her when she misbehaved. The one to tell her not to sneak out when they were teenagers in one of their many foster homes after their mother had given them up. Rule abiding, strict and, as they’d grown, more and more obsessed with control. Of her, of their situation, of whatever he could. A strangling, grasping bid at a control that had only led their already rocky relationship to splinter even further.
Her last conversation with him before she’d stopped speaking to him completely he’d told her that she should be a quiet housewife. She’d gone and applied to law school the very next day.
She still found herself wondering if that had been Kotaro being clever. Using her own contrary impulses to make her commit to something she’d always wanted to do but been too uncertain about to try and follow. It would have been the kindest he’d been to her in years if it was true, and she’d been too afraid to reach out to him to find out for fear that it wasn’t.
Instead she focused on her studies, focused on being the person she wanted to be instead of the person she’d been forced to become over the years. Not the abandoned daughter of a hero that had to retire too soon, but someone who was able to take the rules she’d been so long rebelling against and reshape them. Twist them under her hands until they settled into something she could believe in. Something she could follow.
At nineteen, after careful consideration and one less-than-helpful conversation with her friend Mitsuki she changed her name to Midoriya. On her twentieth birthday enjoying the fact that she could - legally - drink herself into oblivion, she cut her waist long hair off in a single ugly cut with the kitchen scissors. The next hour was spent in laughter as Mitsuki’s shy fashion student boyfriend Masaru fixed the mess as best he could. At twenty-one she clutched her best friend’s hand and gritted her teeth as a tattoo artist brought to life a stylized kitsune on her shoulder. A mark of the trickster she wished to become. And in between all of that, she proved herself to the academic world at large and earned herself a full ride to Kyushu University’s much lauded law program.
The work was challenging, equal parts exhilarating and mind-numbingly boring. She spent her days working hard to get top marks in every class, to ace every test, and impress every teacher with her sharp wit and unbending will. Her nights were filled with studying and working whatever jobs she could pick up to cover what her scholarships didn’t cover. Mitsuki teased her that she would get wrinkles from squinting at so many books, but her friend was always supportive.
Years passed, semesters flying by in almost a dream at times, whisking her closer and closer to graduation and her dream of reshaping the system into something she could believe in. Despite her exhaustion, she’d found herself happier than she’d ever been in her life.
Which of course was the exact moment that it all started crashing down.
It started with one of the girl’s in the same program as Inko suddenly dropping the ball on her studies, the other woman’s grades began plummeting at an alarming rate. The girl - Shibata Aiko - looked ragged and exhausted, unable to focus and eventually being dropped from the program entirely due to the issues with her academic performance.
A few weeks later it was another female student shutting herself away in her dorm room for an entire week. The girl finally left her dorm looking haggard and sick, refusing to speak to anyone as she walked barefoot out into the wider world and immediately attempted to throw herself in front of a bus.
Then one of Inko’s senpai’s - kind and serious Hanako who had mentored Inko briefly when she’d first joined the school - had what could only be called a breakdown in the school library. Screaming and crying as she began tearing up law books and flinging chairs.
Each incident was quickly handled and waved away as young women not suited for the high expectations and difficulties of such a high ranking university. Most of Inko’s classmates had been, if not content to accept that information, at least too exhausted by their own heavy workloads to question further.
But Inko never was good at accepting the will of authority.
#My writing#Fic snippet#bnha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#Inko Midoriya#kotaro shimura#all for one#all for one is midoriya hisashi#dad for one#inko x one for all#inko is nana shimura's daughter#rebellious inko midoriya#all for one is completely smitten#bnha au#all for one: this is the story of how I met your mother
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Where are the rats? AKA Pt. 2 of the hunger games x HP crossover series ft. Fredward Weaslely (OC x Fred W.)
a/n: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE ON PT. 1 I NEARLY CRIED READING EVERY COMMENT SO THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH MWAH <3
Warnings: Just some cursing and a mention of a black eye (this is all I can think of but pls let me know if I should add any!)
Taglist: (leave a comment or message me to be added!) @anchoeritic @pineapplesandpinas @mitsukui @beiahadid
Link to Pt. 1: https://bisou-doux.tumblr.com/post/640770995870957568/the-starving-games-ft-freddie-weasel-aka-pt-1
Those ten minutes felt both shockingly short and blissfully eternal; As time seemed to run of its own accord. Seeing my mother and sister alone was enough to make me misty-eyed; but when mom pulled a disgruntled-looking Tulip from her bag and handed him to me, I burst into tears. I collapsed onto the floor and just sat there. My mother and sister joined me. I curled into mom’s lap, allowing her to stroke my hair as I laid my head on her chest and gave in to the soothing, wavelike motion of her breathing. Maeve snuggled up close to us and hugged my waist from behind, leaning her head on my back. Tulip, that furry little menace, seeming to sense the heavy sadness that blanketed the room- plopped himself onto my lap and curled into a ball against stomach. I sniffled and gave a light chuckle. I started stroking his plush fur absentmindedly; I eventually let my eyelids, heavy with grief and exhaustion, to slowly droop closed.
None of us felt much like talking. We just sat like that for a while- letting the tears roll silently down our cheeks. I could’ve easily fallen asleep, but my mother soon gently sat me up, and I reluctantly shifted from my place in her lap. Maeve begrudgingly followed suit, and we both sat criss-cross on the floor across from her. Maeve shuffled closer and leaned her head on my shoulder. Tulip was kind enough to stay in his place- in fact, seemingly enjoying it- and I felt the vibrations of his contented purrs echo through my chest as I pet him. At last, my mother broke the silence, “Seph,” she sighed, “I- um-” she seemed to be at a loss for words. “Mom, it’s okay. You don’t have to say anything.” I said quietly. Her eyes brimmed with tears. “Oh, Seph,” she leaned forward and hugged me tightly. I tried to keep my composure, but my voice still shook when I spoke, “It’s gonna be okay, mom. You have so much love around here- none of the aunties or uncles would ever let you and Maeve fend for yourselves- you know that.” I rubbed her back comfortingly. She sniffled, “I know but-” she sighed and pulled away slowly, placing her hands on my shoulders. “Seph, promise me you’ll try.”
“I promise- no, I swear- whatever happens, I am leaving that arena alive.” I said resolvedly. My mother looked at me, her eyes, like mine and Maeve’s, were red and puffy. She cupped my face with her hands and gave me a small smile. Planting a tender kiss on my forehead, I reached up to place my own hands over hers. Maeve, who was still at my side, spoke up, “You didn’t have to do it, y’know. I could’ve handled it.” She sniffled and wiped at her nose with the back of her hand, “Not to mention Tulip- He’s gonna miss you! You’re his favorite out of the three of us!” she added. I looked over at her and scoffed, “First of all, kiddo, you haven’t even hit your growth spurt yet- so I doubt you’d be handling anything other than that fancy Capitol silverware.” Mom laughed, and Maeve looked down and smiled, “Also- what on earth makes you think I’m Tulip’s favorite? The little jerk was SLEEPING ON MY FACE THIS MORNING.” At that, we all burst out laughing, the sound of it bouncing off the walls and making everything seem a little bit lighter. When our laughter died down, a comfortable silence took its place. We sat there for a moment soaking it in. Eventually, Maeve turned to me and broke the quiet, “Hey, Seph?”
“Mhmm?”
“Give ‘em hell, will you?” she said gravely. Instead of reprimanding her for her choice of words, mom nodded, and looked at me earnestly, “Give those bastards in the Capitol a run for their money.”
“But how? They own me now- I’m their property. They could do whatever the hell they want.” I said.
“Bullshit. You’re still a person. Not a hunk of meat.” she gently placed her hand on the side of my face, “You have a brain- use it.” She glanced around the room and lowered her voice to a near whisper, “The thing the Capitol fears more than anything is the districts realizing exactly that. They’re afraid we’ll rise up against them when we realize we’re not just brainless pawns. They keep us in check with the games- reminding us that they have all the power- that they can threaten us all they want but we’ll never have the guts to do anything about it. But that’s all they are- threats. They’re threatening us because they’re afraid of us.”
“But what am I supposed to do about it? I can’t exactly organize a rebellion.” I replied, matching her lowered tone.
“I’m not asking you to. What I’m asking you to do is remember that you are not just a sheep off to the slaughter. Make them like you- show them that you’re not just some kind of dirty, uneducated savage. Appeal to their vanity; trust me, they have a lot of it. Whatever happens, make all those pricks at the Capitol wonder if maybe they shouldn’t have sent you into the games- that you might just be the one tribute they seriously regret sending into the arena. Show them you have a mind and soul. Give those Capitol freaks something to feel for. But most importantly,” she leaned in and spoke in a barely audible whisper, “give that motherfucker Snow something to be afraid of.” She leaned back and looked me dead in the eye. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
I nodded wordlessly.
“And for god's sake please don’t let them put you in some kind of hideous outfit, or I swear, I’ll stop rooting for you then and there.” Maeve joked. I looked over at her and smiled. I ruffled her hair and gave her a big smooch on her forehead. “I won’t. Pinky promise.” we hooked our pinkies together and gave each other a curt nod. “Besides,” I said, “if the outfit’s ugly enough, I’d rather go naked. At least that would earn me some points with some of the male sponsors, don’t you think?” Maeve giggled in response. I leaned over and hugged them both, “I love you. I love you both so much. I’m coming back, you hear me? I’m coming back.” We heard heavy footsteps coming down the hall. I gave Tulip a quick kiss on top of his head, and whispered “I love you, too, Tulip. You’re the best cat anyone could’ve asked for.” I handed him over to Maeve, and she quickly but gently placed him back into the bag as we all stood up. Mom hugged me so tight I could hardly breathe, but I didn’t care. “I love you. I love you so much, sweetie.” she whispered. “I love you, too, mom.” My eyes started to water. She planted a kiss on my forehead and both my cheeks, and I stepped over to Maeve as I heard the footsteps getting closer, “I love you, kiddo. Don’t ever forget it.” “I love you, too.” she replied breathlessly, tears now pooling in her eyes. Maeve held the bag between the three of us, Tulip poking his head out from the top of it, and I embraced them both as tightly as I could manage. A moment later, the door swung open and five peacekeepers entered the room. “Time’s up.” one of them said. We all turned to face him, but I maintained a tight grip on Mom and Maeve’s arms. “You two,” he said pointing to my mother and sister, “Out.” Two of the peacekeepers walked over and grabbed hold of their arms. They pulled them away with such force, I had no choice but to let go. I stared after them, my feet glued to the floor, as the two peacekeepers pulled them out of he room. My breathing quickened and I felt myself starting to panic. I rushed towards the door to see if I could still catch a glimpse of them, but I was held back by two more peacekeepers grabbing my arms. “Wait, please, just a few more minutes.” I said desperately. I saw the bright purple edge of Maeve’s dress disappear as they rounded the corner into the main hall. “Please. Please, I’m not ready to go.” I choked. I heard their steps echo across the marble as they were made to walk rapidly towards the exit. “MOM!” I cried, pushing harder against their iron grip. “MAEVE!” I shouted, fat tears rolling down my cheeks. I grunted, practically throwing myself out of their clutches. “LET GO OF ME!” I screamed, “LET GO OF ME YOU FUCKING BAST-” but the rest of my sentence was muffled as one of the peacekeepers clapped his hand over my mouth. I thought about biting his palm, but it was unfortunately protected by a thick leather glove. But him and his stupid gloves couldn’t stop me- I screamed anyway- yelling out obscenity after obscenity as I continuously tried to free myself from them. I was losing my voice, and I strained against them so hard, I thought my shoulders might pop out of their sockets. When I heard the sound of the heavy brass doors being opened and closed, I went limp. I stopped fighting. I slumped forward as my breathing slowed, and my anguished cries turned into defeated sobs. The peacekeeper removed his hand from my mouth, and the one still standing behind us, who’d been observing my little meltdown, took a few steps closer, “You done?” he asked. I huffed in annoyance, “Yes,” I croaked, my voice practically non-existent. “Good. Now shift it or we’ll drag you to the train by your ankles.” I gulped, straightening up just in time to once again be shoved to my next location.
Instead of leaving through the brass doors, we walked straight past them and down a second hallway opposite the one we just came from. This one was slightly larger, and the dark wood-panelled floor had square tiles of dark green marble lining either side of it. At the end of it was a set of bolted steel doors flanked by two more peacekeepers. As we approached them, they opened the doors to reveal what appeared to be a large, dimly lit tunnel. It looked like the underground station we took that morning- only much, much nicer. The concrete platform we stood on was unnaturally clean- neither a single piece of trash, nor suspiciously blood-like spill. The tall, arched ceiling was entirely covered in dark blue and green tiles that still gleamed despite the dim lighting. I didn’t think it was possible for an underground station in a city to be entirely vermin-free; yet here I was, and there was not a rat or cockroach in sight. But the most peculiar thing was how wide the single set of tracks was- they were at least 12 or 13 feet wide. For fuck’s sake, how big could this train possibly be?, I thought to myself. A few moments later, two peacekeepers emerged from steel doors, grasping the arms of a tall, redheaded boy. They walked forward and stood a few feet to my right. I looked over, and tried to hide my smile: despite their armored uniforms, the two peacekeepers looked absolutely ridiculous standing on either side of their prisoner- he was at least a good four to six inches taller than both of them and made the two of them look like little children holding onto their mommy. Despite the fact that he looked like he could crush them with his pinky, Fred was sporting a nasty black eye that hadn’t been there less than an hour ago. Observing his injury, I could’ve sworn I saw him glance at me. I tried to catch his eye- well, the good one- but he just clenched his jaw and resolved to stare blankly at the ground below him. I exhaled through my nose in frustration and turned my gaze back to the empty tracks in front of me. We stood there in torturous silence for a few minutes, until suddenly I heard a faint rumbling coming from the right of the tunnel. As it got closer, some of the lights flickered and everything looked to be shaking. A few moments later, a sleek, black bullet train pulled into the station and whizzed past us until it slowly came to a squeaking halt. Every window was tinted so that you couldn't see inside. The door in front of us slid open with a small hiss, and Ms. Magenta from the ceremony stepped out. She gasped happily, “Oh, my lovely tributes, I am so-” she paused upon seeing Fred’s eye, “My goodness what have they done to you?” No one said anything. She turned to the peacekeepers holding Fred, “Did you do this?” she said sternly.
“He wasn’t cooperating.” one of them replied flatly.
“That’s not an excuse to abuse him! Don’t you understand that he is going to be on television in front of the entire country? He cannot have that on his face, it’s hideous! It will ruin his entire outfit!” she said shrilly.
“Not my problem.” he responded. Ms. Magenta scoffed angrily then took Fred by the wrist and whisked him away from the peacekeepers, “Come, my dear, we’re going to get this all fixed up. You will get the best treatment the Capitol has to offer!” She turned on her heel and walked over to me. “You, too, my dear- come, come!” she chirped. The peacekeepers maintained their grip on my arms and started walking towards the train, but she turned and stopped them, “Oh, please, let go of her,” she huffed before stepping back and yanking me over by the wrist, “She’s a girl, not an animal.” she said disapprovingly. She took mine and Fred’s hands into her own and I stumbled a bit when she jolted us forward. Walking briskly to the train, I smirked as I put my free hand behind my back, and held up my middle finger.
I held on to the tiny railing on the side of the five or so steep steps leading into the train, and the door hissed shut behind us. Once at the top, I turned to face a room that made the marble halls of the Justice building look like a pile of bricks. She let go of our hands but I hardly noticed as I stood gaping at the space in front of me. I now clearly understood why those tracks were so wide- it must’ve been double- maybe triple- the size of the apartment I lived in. There was an elaborate crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling, and gold sconces in the spaces between the windows. The floor was made of dark cherry-wood panels that looked like they’d never seen a single step. On either side of the train carriage, there was a short little couch, a chaise I think it’s called, with gold legs and light-blue silk cushions. In the middle of the car, below the chandelier, there were two larger couches facing each other that matched the ones on the side. Between them was an elegant glass table where a white, porcelain tea set, and colorful little cakes on a silver-tier platter sat on its surface. The carriage itself carried a faint scent of old wood and lavender. I looked over to see Fred standing there with the same, awed expression. “Is- is this all for us?” he asked quietly.
“Of course it is! You are both very important guests of the Capitol- it would be rude of us not to show you the best of our hospitality.” Ms. Magenta replied brightly. “Now, if you would follow me, I’ll show you to your rooms and then we will meet in the dining car for supper, alright?”
“Wait there’s more?” I asked, my voice still a bit hoarse.
“Well, obviously.” she replied chuckling, “The trip from here to the Capitol takes at least a week- you can’t expect to stay in one room the whole time, can you?” she laughed lightly then made her way to the door at the other end of the car. It slid open to another train car- this one as equally opulent as the last, though instead of couches, in the center of the room were two pairs of plush silk chairs. A jade and white marble chess board sat between two of them, the pieces all lined up perfectly. Between the others was a small, square wooden table with a pack of playing cards sitting on top. “I’ve never played chess before.” Fred remarked.
“I have; it’s fun.” I replied looking up at him.
“Really? D’you think you could teach me?” he said, turning to face me.
“Sure.”
“Is it a hard game?”
“No, not once you get the rules.”
“Okay, good,” he said nodding to himself, “You’ll teach me then?”
“Yeah, tomorrow.”
“Cool.” He looked down at the ground and a small smile crossed his face.
We followed Ms. Magenta through the next few train cars until at last she stopped and turned to us, “So, behind me are your rooms. Yours Fredrick-”
“It’s just Fred, actually.”
“Very well; Fred, your room is on the left, and Persephone, yours is on the right.” she paused then looked over to me, “You do like to be called Persephone, don’t you?”
“Well, most people call me Seph, but you can-”
“Persephone it is! Don’t worry, it is a very pretty name, everyone at the Capitol is going to love it.” she said excitedly, “Now off to your rooms! I’ll see you both at six o’clock in the dining car.”
“Wait a second,” I said, “You never told us your name.”
“I didn’t? Huh- I was sure I mentioned it...well anyways, it’s Emerald. Emerald Tallis. But of course, you can both call me Emmie. Now both of you- rooms!” she said walking away briskly.
“Wait, but how will we know-” Fred started to ask.
“There are clocks on your walls!” Emmie responded as she walked through to the next carriage. “Ta-ta!” she said airily, waving her hand above her head as the door hissed shut behind her. Fred and I stood there awkwardly for a moment before I cleared my throat, “Um, I’ll see you at six.” I said quickly.
Without looking up, he nodded, “See you at six.” And with that, we both walked hastily into our respective rooms and shut the door. The room was surprisingly plain. It contained a large bed with a dark grey comforter partially inlaid in light wood-panelled walls, a small desk in the corner to my right, and some shelves to my left. The whole room was basked in a warm glow emitting from the strips of light that trailed across the top of the wood panels on the walls. Admittedly, it was a nice change from the extravagance of the rest of the train. I stepped over to the bed and fell backwards on to the plush comforter. I kicked off my shoes then sat up once more, leaning back on hands. My stomach rumbled.
Shit, I thought, I should’ve snagged one of those cakes.
I massaged my still sore throat.
And maybe some tea, too.
a/n: If you’ve made it this far, welcome I have a task for you: can you give Seph this mug so she can drink her tea
I don’t think she knows what a dinosaur is but she’s gonna like the mug.
#hunger games#the hunger games#hunger games x harry potter#hunger games au#hunger games fanfic#harry potter#harry potter au#hp#crossover#fanfic#original character#oc#oc x character#fred weasley x oc#muggle fred weasley#harry potter oc#hunger games oc#fred weasley#harry potter fanfic#harry potter fanfiction#hunger games fanfiction#fred and george#fred weasley fanfiction#fred weasley fic#fred weasley fanfic#chess#effie trinket#enemies to friends to lovers#enemies to allies#allies to lovers
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Sunshine
F/M Pairing: Y/N x Han Jisung (Stray Kids)
Word Count: 12K
Genre: Married Life AU
Warnings: Smut and Language
Summary: Y/N has loved Jisung for her entire life and she would never dream of marrying anyone else. Of course, their life together isn’t always perfect, but they’ve always managed to overcome every obstacle standing in their way.
Note: Feeling soft for Jisung these days...
I was only 8-years-old when my parents divorced.
My mother, thinking herself circumspect, blamed it on my father’s long hours at work. But she wasn’t there the night I decided to wait for my father, watching him come home in the dead of night to quietly clean the lipstick painting the side of his cheek. I remember catching his eyes from the bottom of the staircase and the guilt in his eyes was impossible to dismiss.
Those kinds of unfortunate secrets are difficult to hide because they demand to be seen.
Thereafter, I can recall memories of sitting in different offices, listening to my parents bicker while their lawyers did their best to satisfy bitter clients, especially when it came to their daughter. I was a particularly harsh point of contention, but full childhood custody was granted to my mother who did everything in her power to push my father out of our lives, even packing up our belongings to move to the opposite side of the country. And New York City was just as intimidating as my childish imagination had perceived it to be. My first impression was unforgettable, a city that was large and confusing, constantly streaked with traffic and heavy with the low-set of smog in the mornings when the sun could barely filter through the landscape of skyscrapers.
My mother and I moved to the suburbs and started renting a modest home with the idyllic front yard and friendly neighbors who greeted us with dishes containing different foods upon our arrival. I had always been shy and introverted, choosing the comfort of my mother’s legs whenever a stranger would knock on our door, occasionally offering my mother a flirtatious smile. Like the older man who lived across the street who often made a habit of coming over to talk to my mother in the living room while I hid away upstairs, listening to the sound of their laughter.
Eventually, I could no longer pretend that something strange wasn’t happening, especially when my mother’s new friend brought over his two sons. They were both around my age, sporting thick accents that reminded me of the man on television who liked to wrestle with crocodiles. My mother’s friend introduced them as Chan and Felix, encouraging the three of us to get along because we would be spending a lot of time with each other. My childish innocence didn’t quite understand what that meant, but I wanted to do the very best for my mother.
Even so, I was still hesitant at first because Felix seemed to dislike the idea, ignoring me in exchange for his video games when I would come over to their house. Thankfully, Chan was more willing to comply, sharing his books with me since we both liked to read and the couch in his bedroom was extremely comfortable. He had a wide variety of mysteries and thrillers and my impressionable mind would latch onto those exotic stories and themes, picturing myself in the place of the heroine who somehow managed to always know exactly what to do in the most formidable of situations.
Eventually, Chan invited me to accompany him and Felix to the park to meet their other friends since I was having trouble making them on my own. Felix, of course, remained opposed, very nearly throwing a fit had it not been for his father who scolded his son for being so inconsiderate. Not that I was necessarily excited at the idea of meeting their friends since I would have preferred staying inside to read. Nevertheless, my mother was insistent that we get along, so I reluctantly followed Chan and Felix who were talking about some sort of new comic book that they were both reading. It was all very decidedly boyish things and I had no interest in superheroes who ran around in capes when the real heroes were the common female protagonists of my books.
“Everyone, meet Y/N,” Chan had introduced me, pushing me forward to greet the seven other boys who were all looking at me like I was some sort of extraterrestrial specimen.
One of their older friends, with a messy head of black hair, immediately crossed his arms. “No way, Chan,” he protested, glaring at me with intimidating dark eyes.
“Girls aren’t allowed,” another boy agreed, nodding his head with enough force to send his bangs flying into his eyes.
I retreated into myself with each subsequent insult and dismissal thrown my way. It was enough to ostracise even the most outgoing of individuals, but I was quite frustrated because I had tried to resist coming along from the moment Chan first proposed the idea. “I didn’t want to come anyway,” I snapped at the boys, surprising each and every one of them as I stormed away to plant myself down on one of the park benches.
I could hear Chan calling my name but I had decidedly had enough of those boys, including Chan despite the inherent kindness he had previously shown me. In fact, they could have fun without me doing whatever it is that nasty little boys liked to do in the park. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have enjoyed it anyway, even if they had opened their arms and begged me to play along. Of course, I was still deeply hurt that they had dismissed me so quickly, but I had always been a prideful child, which is why my first instinct was to lash out when I noticed a shadow had fallen over my wilted form. “You don’t have to be nice anymore, Chan,” I said, turning away from the approaching boy.
“I’m really sorry.”
I glanced up in surprise when I realized that the voice was much brighter than Chan’s gravelly tone. Instead, I met a pair of unfamiliar brown eyes from beneath a fringe of blonde-colored hair. The boy held out a flower, a wilted dandelion that had nearly lost its pappus, as if in a gesture of appeasement.
I accepted it from him hesitantly. “Thank you.”
“They shouldn’t be so mean,” the boy continued, waving at his friends who were busy arguing over a silly football. “You’re really tall so you might be able to catch Minho’s long passes.”
I paused at his comment. “Do you want me to play?”
“Of course,” the boy grinned, smiling as brilliantly as the sun bearing down on the two of us. “My name’s Jisung.”
I returned his smile. “It’s nice to meet you Jisung.” He offered me his hand which I gratefully accepted, holding on to him with an unrelenting grip because I had a feeling that I would never want to let go.
This might explain why, years later, I was still waking up next to him in bed with an expensive ring on my finger courtesy of dozens of saved paychecks back when Jisung worked overtime in college. On this morning, in particular, the sound of my alarm might have been enough to wake me up, but the unexpected presence of my husband’s hand groping my chest provided the necessary catalyst to blindly reach out for my cell phone. I silenced the unwelcome disturbance, allowing a low groan when I reached down for his hand because leave it to Han Jisung to feel me up even when we were both sleeping. “What are you doing?” Jisung asked when I tightened my fingers around his wrist, loudly protesting when he squeezed my breast in return.
“It’s too early for that,” I whined, especially when he started to rub his hard cock against my ass.
“Just let me put it inside for five minutes,” Jisung pleaded, his other hand roaming down to tug on my panties.
“What good will that do?” I asked him, slowly wriggling away from his arms despite the show of childish outrage from my immature husband who still sometimes forgot that he was an adult.
“You’re gonna make me show up to work like this?” Jisung pouted, expression painted with his betrayal as he watched me walk around our bedroom.
“Take a cold shower,” I said, tossing a towel in his direction.
“Y/N,” Jisung said. “Let’s think about the practicalities of the situation. We haven’t had sex in a week and my dick feels like it might fall off at any moment.”
“And if we look at this situation scientifically,” I added. “I doubt your dick will fall off because that’s assuredly impossible.”
“Why are you doing this to me?” Jisung asked in an exaggerated fashion, burying his face into our nicest set of pillows.
“Because I’m meeting Seungmin and Jeongin for lunch and you have a field trip to chaperone. Plus, I don’t want to listen to Changbin complain to me on the phone tonight when you show up to work late again.”
“Seungmin and Jeongin are more important than me?”
“Lunch is more important than you,” I corrected him with a smirk, reaching for my bag. “Have a nice day at work, babe.”
“No kiss goodbye?” Jisung questioned even as the door to our bedroom shut soundly behind me.
Being amongst the youngest, me, Seungmin, and Jeongin frequently made a habit of eating lunch together on Saturday afternoons. It was a traditional affair, primarily allowing the three of us to gossip about the others without fear of reprimand. And ever since our Freshman year writing lecture, we’ve enjoyed greasy fast food while commenting on everything from Chan and Changbin’s sudden obsession with the gym to our theories that Minho was secretly married to a rich aristocrat who supplied him with the endless amount of money he spent on his cats.
“Hey!” Jeongin protested when I reached over to steal a piece of his steak.
“It looks better than mine,” I attempted to justify, speaking over a mouthful of food which my mother would normally offer criticism.
“Felix has been acting weird lately,” Seungmin randomly commented, a frown confusing his features as he scrolled through his phone.
I chewed the stolen beef before asking, “What do you mean?”
“I mean, he only ever gets like this when she’s back in town.”
I let out a heavy exhale, understanding exactly why Seungmin was concerned. “How long?”
“A week or so,” Seungmin said. “He never comes out with us anymore.”
“Does Changbin know?” I asked, sliding my plate aside in exchange for this piece of juicy gossip.
Changbin’s sister, better known as the object of Felix’s most intimate desires, has managed to whole-heartedly capture Felix in some sort of deadly trance. My step-brother, notoriously known for being a playboy in college, became whipped around Changbin’s sister, following her around like a lost puppy begging for attention. “Of course he does,” Seungmin replied. “But he says that Kara hasn’t tried to contact Felix at all.”
“Obviously,” I snorted. “Changbin thinks Kara is the epitome of perfection. His little sister can’t possibly do wrong in his eyes.”
“I think Felix shares his opinion,” Jeongin commented, trying to sound perfectly serious while he sipped on his chocolate milk.
“We’re having a family dinner tomorrow night,” I said with a sigh. “It’s a good opportunity to interrogate my step-brother.”
“Please, Y/N,” Seungmin said, eyes round and soft. “Felix always tells you everything.”
“And you can immediately tell us in the group chat,” Jeongin chirped happily.
“Of course!” I agreed, reaching over to ruffle Jeongin’s hair until my phone abruptly started ringing. “Yes, Hyunjin?” I sighed into the other end.
“Y/N! We have an emergency!”
I rolled my eyes at his theatrics. “It can’t be that bad.”
“We don’t have straws! I repeat, the cafe has no straws and people are asking for straws, Y/N.”
“Jesus, Hyunjin,” I groaned. “Just go next door and buy some straws.”
“Y/N,” Hyujin huffed impatiently. “There is a bigger problem here and you don’t even realize! That kid you hired last week? I think he’s out to sabotage the cafe. I put him in charge of ordering supplies and guess what isn’t supplied?”
“The damn straws,” I muttered, suddenly having a million regrets for agreeing to open the cafe with Hyunjin in the first place.
“Now you finally understand.”
I carefully lowered the phone from my ear, cupping the receiver to look at Seungmin. “Do you mind coming with me to the cafe? I’m supposed to have the day off but Hyunjin’s losing his shit over straws.”
“Sounds like Hyunjin,” Seungmin smirked. “I don’t have anything better to do.”
“Hyujin,” I repeated into the phone. “Please don’t scream at that poor kid, I’ll be there in five minutes.”
The cafe was originally supposed to be an independent endeavor until Hwang Hyunjin found out about my plans and demanded some sort of involvement. Despite our friendship, I was still hesitant to consider Hyunjin as a business partner, especially considering his performances in the lectures we shared in college. Hyunjin was the type of student to arrive to class five minutes before the professor, desperation clinging to him persistently while he begged me to explain the homework assignment. Nevertheless, Hyunjin somehow graduated from the business school at the same time as I did, albeit without the honor’s recognition, proving himself despite the doubts of nearly everyone in our friend circle with the exception of Jisung who always managed to see the good in everyone.
Shortly after graduation, Hyunjin and I took out a small loan from the bank to open our cafe in a very strategic location close to a nearby university. From the beginning, I had primarily handled the more elaborate side of our business ranging from accounting and point of sales to ordering supplies and handling employees. Hyunjin, on the other hand, took care of the creative aspects including designing what he deemed an “elegant” menu while also trying out new recipes that our mostly college-aged clientele greatly enjoyed in the form of free samples.
“Y/N!” Hyujin gasped as soon as I walked in the door with Seungmin and Jeongin. “Well?”
I held up a grocery bag full of the straws I had just purchased. “It’s fine, Hyunjin.”
“It’s not fine,” Hyunjin protested, walking over to yank the bag free from my grasp. “I’ll have you know that one of our usual customers left us 4 instead of 5 stars for satisfaction.”
“What will we do?” I deadpanned. “Where’s the new kid? Did you scold him thoroughly?”
“Of course I did,” Hyunjin said, pointing to the kitchen. “I sent him to wash dishes.”
“He’s a cashier.”
“It’s punishment, Y/N,” Hyunjin said. “We can’t have him thinking he can get away with potentially damaging our public image.”
“These kids will still get their morning coffee,” I said. “They don’t care if we’re out of straws as long as they have somewhere to loiter around all day to finish their essays.”
“That’s another thing,” Hyunjin said. “I think we definitely need a bigger place and I know the owner next door said something about moving out.”
“Renovations are expensive,” I said. “And you don’t know if the landlord would be okay with us tearing out the wall to expand.”
“What if I found out?”
“Talk to Seungmin instead,” I suggested, tugging the younger boy forward. “I’ll see about this new guy you’ve decided to torture.”
“Punishment, Y/N!”
I rolled my eyes because I was still frustrated that I had to come into the cafe because of the worst excuse for an emergency in the history of mankind. But what else did I expect from Hyunjin? “Remember to breathe, Y/N,” I whispered to myself.
Back in the kitchen, our newest employee, donned in his decorative jacket courtesy of Hyunjin’s obsession with bright uniforms, was currently bent over the sink with thick gloves pulled up to his elbows. I felt bad for the guy because it was obvious that he wasn’t used to doing something like this. “Hey, kid,” I said, surprising the younger boy who immediately dropped one of the cups back into the sudsy water. “You don’t have to do that anymore.”
“I-I don’t mind,” he stuttered, eyes wide as he held tightly to a sponge.
“It’s not your job,” I insisted, carefully taking the sponge from him like he was a deer that might dart away at any sudden movement. “I’m sorry Hyunjin told you to come back here. To be honest, he was probably trying to avoid this work himself.”
“But I messed up the order,” he said, hanging his head. “It’s my fault.”
“Not it’s not and don’t let Hyunjin tell you otherwise,” I said. “Next time, call me if you’re having trouble with the order.”
I reached into my bag to pull out my business card, holding it out for his reluctant hand which was still slightly damp from his unexpected dish duty. “You’re not mad?” he asked reluctantly.
“No way,” I reassured him. “I used to work during college too, you know. I kinda get it, kid, so don’t worry about anything.”
His smile was sincere, looking at my card like it was the key to the world. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“Get back on register,” I encouraged him. “That’s what I hired you for, and next time Hyunjin gives you any shit, you just let me know.”
He nodded enthusiastically, vacating the kitchen as if he was actually thrilled by the idea of returning to the register. I knew all was well when I could hear Hyunjin’s shrill voice from the other room: “Y/N!”
Jisung managed to beat me home and I walked inside to find my husband laid out on the couch with a glass of orange juice in one hand. “Headache,” Jisung pouted at me.
“Take some Advil,” I said with a smirk, ignoring the way his hands reached out for me in exchange for the possibility of a snack from the kitchen.
“Y/N!” I heard him groan my name.
“Sungie,” I returned his call. “I hope this isn’t some sort of elaborate set-up because we have dinner with my mother tomorrow night.”
Jisung was silent in the next room and I shook my head while dumping a sample of chips into one of our plastic bowls. I came back out into the living room to find Jisung rolled over onto his stomach, face buried into the cushions of our sectional. “Baby,” I cooed, trying to lure him out from his hiding place.
“I forgot about the dinner,” Jisung said, voice muffled against the furniture.
“I figured that,” I said, somewhat sympathetic to his plight. For as long as I could remember, Jisung had always feared our family dinners mainly because my mother had a personal vendetta against him. Ever since he first stepped foot on the porch wearing a rented suit for Junior year prom, my mother had deemed him unworthy of my time. Her feelings only worsened when she found out that Jisung was majoring in elementary education. “A teacher, Y/N! That boy isn’t going to be able to support the two of you!”
Subsequently, every visit to my mother’s house meant that Jisung had to listen to my mother read statistics on how poor and destitute teachers were in the city. Meanwhile, Felix also received the same treatment from his father who was absolutely horrified when he found out that his youngest son wanted to open a dance studio with Minho. It didn’t help that my step-father loathed Minho because he found him and Felix in the back of Minho’s corvette smoking enough weed to satisfy the entirety of our high school.
It was a complete contradiction because while Jisung and Felix were constantly reprimanded, Chan and I were bathed in compliments and adoration. “Channie,” my mother would smile. “How are your cases?” Chan was some kind of small claims lawyer in the upper Bronx which meant he made enough money to buy a Rolex for every day of the week while driving an expensive Tesla.
“And Y/N,” my mother would address me. “How’s the cafe?”
“We always do well around Finals season,” I told her.
“That’s wonderful darling!” she would always say while glaring in Jisung’s direction who would visibly falter under my mother’s judgemental stare. “How are your...kids, Jisung?”
“They’re great,” Jisung would laugh nervously. “I had to stop one of them from eating a bottle of glue the other day.”
I would laugh and affectionately run my fingers through Jisung’s hair while my mother remained statuesque-still. “How amusing.”
The pattern persisted to this day and I knew Jisung tolerated the dinners for my sake, but he always protested in different ways. For example, last month Jisung agreed to babysit our neighbor’s Pomeranian because he thought I might allow him to stay at home. And I almost let him get away with his impromptu plans when I remembered that Jisung would have to make dinner on his own and I was horrified by the idea of Han Jisung anywhere near my kitchen.
“Tell your mother I’m dying,” Jisung said, pulling me from my thoughts. “That should make her happy.”
“Han Jisung,” I scolded him, reaching down to gently massage his leg. “I’m not leaving you home alone. You’re prone to more kitchen fires than anyone else I’ve ever seen.”
“I’ll order takeout,” Jisung said, kicking his foot out against my thigh.
“If you’re gonna act like a child, then I’ll have to treat you like one,” I said, giving his ass a firm smack before rising from the sectional.
Jisung jolted at the unexpected contact, raising his head to briefly consider me. “What was that?”
“Do you not want to play?” I returned, grinning when Jisung immediately sat upright from his position on the sofa, leaning forward in expectation. “Does this mean what I think it does?”
“Perhaps if you decide to stop being so stubborn about the dinner,” I said, dropping to my knees in front of him.
Jisung’s eyes grew wide with lust, hands reaching out to pull my head closer to his crotch. “I’ll go to as many dinners as you want, babe.”
“That’s better,” I smirked, efficiently undoing his belt. “It’s only for a few hours.”
Jisung was ecstatic, pulling down his jeans and underwear. “I’ll just sit with Felix in the dining room alone.”
“Is that so?” I asked, curling my fingers around his hardening cock.
Jisung nodded, hair falling into his eyes as he watched me with rapt attention. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to him recently.”
“What a good sport,” I teased, jerking his cock a few times because I liked the way Jisung’s eyelids would flutter with his pleasure. But he was being remarkably good, so I decided he had earned an end to his apparent sexual frustrations. I took in the tip of his cock, running my tongue along the slit dripping with milky white pre-cum.
“Please,” Jisung begged, grip unrelenting on my hair as he encouraged me to swallow more of his cock, slowly taking him in until I could feel him at the back of my throat. “Can I do it?” Jisung asked with desperate eyes and I nodded once, giving him the permission he desired to move my head up and down the length of his erection, warm and rigid against my tongue. I made sure to moan around him because I knew the resulting vibrations felt really good, enjoying the sounds of Jisung’s grunts as he fucked my mouth.
While Jisung did a majority of the work, I tried to amplify his pleasure when I could like running my tongue along the prominent vein on his cock or using my teeth to drag against the fleshy part of him. My fingernails dug into his thighs, leaving behind marks that would probably vanish after a warm shower. Tears were steadily streaking down my cheeks courtesy of an instinctual reaction to Jisung’s cock repeatedly sliding in and out, hollowing my cheeks to accommodate him. “It feels so good,” Jisung said, palms clammy as one hand came to fan against my cheek, wiping away the smeared streaks of my mascara.
Throughout our years together, I had learned a lot about Jisung including his apparent oral fixation when it came to sex. Jisung loved when I gave him a blowjob as I discovered for the very first time locked away in the Janitor’s closet, tasting Jisung on my tongue for a few seconds before he was cumming down my throat, apologizing incessantly for not being able to last longer. As if I really cared because I was quite proud of myself for breaking him down so quickly. But as much as Jisung liked to receive, he also loved to give and feeling his tongue on my pussy was a guilty pleasure, watching Jisung eat me out like he belonged between my thighs.
“Cumming,” Jisung warned me, grip tightening as his hips stuttered, pubic hair brushing against my nose while the bitter taste of his cum was swallowed down with effort because my throat was now incredibly sore.
Jisung fell back against the couch, fingers pushing my hair back from where it had fallen messily into my face. I shakily climbed into his lap, kissing him greedily because there was no better sight than Jisung completely spent after a good orgasm, especially when it was because of me. “Is that better, baby?” I asked, pecking him on the nose.
“I love you,” post-orgasm Jisung told me entreatingly, eyes swimming with tears as he proceeded to plant dozens of soft kisses against the exposed skin of my collarbones.
Jisung pulled into the driveway of my mother’s house with a morbid expression. “It’s not too late to cancel, right?”
I ignored his comment, opening the door to step out into the bitterly cold evening. “Babe, I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”
“No need to pretend,” Jisung grumbled, reluctantly following me to the porch where I hit the doorbell, smoothing down my skirt because my mother always liked it when we dressed up for these dinners.
But the last thing I expected to see on the other side of the door was Kara, especially a version of Kara dressed in an appropriately sized skirt. “Y/N!”
I’m sure my expression of shock matched the one present on my husband’s face as we both took in the sight of Changbin’s little sister. “Kara?” I questioned stupidly, holding tighter to Jisung’s sweater because I needed something to ground me in the reality of this unanticipated situation.
“You guys look great!” she declared. “Come inside!”
“Of course,” I said softly, pulling Jisung behind me as I stepped into the foyer, shrugging off my coat which Kara took from me to hang in the closet like she had been doing it for years.
“Y/N!” my mother squealed, interrupting the unanswered “why are you here?” hanging between the three of us.
“Mom,” I said, accepting her hug with a wince because my mother was never gentle in her affections.
“And Jisung,” my mother frowned, eyeing my husband up and down. “What the hell are you wearing.”
Jisung looked down at his corduroy pants which I had warned him repeatedly to destroy. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Oh nevermind with you,” my mother said dismissively, reaching out for Kara. “Look, Y/N, Felix brought home a very nice friend. Are the two of you acquainted?”
“She’s Changbin’s sister,” I told my mother. “Why would I not know her?”
“Oh don’t give me that attitude,” my mother said. “Kara was just telling me about the marketing firm she works for! Isn’t that impressive?”
“My brother’s jealous,” Kara said. “He’s stuck working with kids all day, isn’t that the worst?”
My mother giggled at Kara’s comment while I reached behind me to give Jisung’s hand a reassuring squeeze. I didn’t even need to see my husband’s face to know that he would be fuming over Kara’s words. “I think you can do Felix some good too,” my mother said, now leading Kara towards the kitchen. “That boy is an absolute mess sometimes.”
I found Chan in the living room, eating his way through most of my mother’s groceries. “Channie,” I said, hurrying Jisung along despite the way his feet drug against the carpet. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”
Chan barely glanced up from his food. “What is it?”
“In private?”
Chan offered me a blank look to which I grabbed his hand, forcing him to the opposite side of the room and away from any potential eavesdroppers. “Why the hell is Kara here?”
“Beats me,” Chan shrugged. “Felix said they’re just friends.”
“Just friends my ass!” I hissed at him. “Chan, you know how stupid Felix gets around her! Since when has Felix brought any of his ‘friends’ to one of these dinners?”
“I don’t want to get involved, Y/N,” Chan said. “It’s really none of our business.”
“But does Changbin know she’s here?”
Chan shrugged helplessly. “How should I know? I don’t see Changbin much these days.”
“Ah, you’re useless,” I declared. “There’s a potentially catastrophic disaster unfolding right in front of your eyes and yet food is more concerning to you.”
“Of course it is,” Chan nodded solemnly. “Why do you think I sacrifice a Sunday night at home to drive an hour over here?”
“What a good son you are,” I said, pinching one of his cheeks. “I’m sure your father would be pleased to hear that.”
“Y/N, I seriously don’t know anything about Felix and Kara,” Chan said, smacking my hand away.
“Listen to me, Chan-”
I broke off when my mother suddenly entered the room with Kara on her heels, holding out a tray of cheese and crackers. “Appetizers!” my mother exclaimed, immediately chastising Jisung when he accidentally dropped one on my mother’s coffee table.
“Leave it alone,” Chan warned me, sparing me no further attention as he joined the others in the living room. I followed him to the couch where I planted myself between my step-brother and Jisung, eyeing Kara suspiciously as she sat herself directly on Felix’s lap, arms wrapped around his neck.
“I think your mother likes me the least tonight,” Jisung whispered anxiously into my ear.
“That’s because Felix has something shiny and new for her to mess with,” I said, patting his thigh soothingly.
“Everyone, help yourselves!” my mother announced, ushering my step-father into the room with a glass of wine in hand.
I handed Jisung a plate. “Do me a favor and keep the food where it belongs.”
Jisung pouted at me. “You act like I’m clumsy on purpose.”
“I don’t need to feed you, do I?” I asked him, ignoring the way he reached down to pinch my waist in warning.
The remainder of our dinner progressed slowly, more so than usual because my mother seemed to have hundreds of questions for Kara. In fact, as opposed to Jisung and Felix being the objects of my mother’s contempt, that title seemed to belong to everyone excluding Kara. Chan and I were rarely spoken to, and Jisung was only addressed when my mother complained that he was chewing too loudly. “Do you see my son-in-law?” she complained to Kara like they were old friends. “He’s never had good table manners.”
I held tightly to Jisung’s hand when I felt him tense next to me. “Jisung’s always been that way,” Kara replied with far too much affection for my liking.
Her comment forced me to recall the very first time I ever met Kara back during my third year of high school. She was a year younger than Jeongin, so she came into our high school as a shy Freshman with only Changbin as an ally. And Changbin loved to brag about how smart his sister was, claiming that she didn’t even need to study because she could memorize everything the teacher said in class. But Changbin hadn’t been exaggerating and I had been slightly jealous of Kara’s easygoing nature, seamlessly inserting herself into our lives as if she had always belonged there. The truth of the matter was that Kara had been attending a private school for most of her life because of her higher intelligence. The school was located hours away from where we lived so we never saw Kara except in brief passing when she came home on the weekends. However, Kara insisted that she wanted a normal high school life, so she enrolled at our local public institution with the goal of making new friends and getting a taste of what her brother always talked about in their long phone conversations.
At first, Kara stuck tightly to Changbin’s side, but it didn’t take long for her to open up to the rest of our group, including Felix whose crush started the moment Kara first walked through the doors. My poor step-brother was enamored, jealous when Kara would start dating some of the older Seniors. Of course, it didn’t help that Changbin remained adamant that Kara never dated any of his friends because they were, in his words, completely unworthy. So, with the exception of the unfortunate incident of Junior prom, Kara obeyed her brother and only showed the other guys affection in the form of a pat on the head or a gentle shove when they said something funny.
By the time I graduated with Hyunjin, Seungmin, Felix, and Jisung, Kara had become another pillar in our dynamic, even appealing to the older ones like Chan and Minho. Yet, when Jeongin finally entered university with the rest of us, something changed with Kara and she no longer hung out with us as much as she had before. Then, there was the matter of her attending college in an entirely different state, only coming to visit sporadically when Felix would bend over backward to make sure she attended one of his fraternity parties. By the time I graduated from college, Kara was more or less nothing but a distant memory, only coming into fruition on rare occasions. Thus, seeing her here today was definitely disorienting, especially since it was only because of Felix that she was here in the first place.
“Kara, you’re such a wonderful girl,” my mother said. “I can’t believe we haven’t met before.”
I rolled my eyes because my mother seemed to forget my Junior year of high school almost as much as I did. “You’ve been such a gracious host,” Kara said to my mother.
“It’s getting late,” my mother sighed, glancing at my step-father who was moments away from passing out on the couch. “We should get to bed, but the rest of you are more than welcome to stay and chat. I know I took up a lot of the conversation.”
“That’s an understatement,” Jisung muttered.
“Anyways, I’ll call you later on this week, Y/N,” my mother said, offering me a lazy wave before collecting Kara into one of the tightest embraces I had ever seen.
Once my mother and step-father had wandered up the steps, Kara came back into the room with mischievous eyes. “Let’s play a game,” Kara suggested, urging us all around the coffee table. I groaned when Jisung pulled me back into his arms, burying his face into the side of my neck like he was prone to do when he was the slightest bit tipsy.
“No more alcohol for you,” I said, swiping the bottle away from my husband who protested half-heartedly.
“What do you suggest?” Felix asked, looking at Kara with starstruck eyes.
“Maybe truth or dare?” Kara said, squealing like she had forgotten that everyone around the table now had a full-time job.
“Why not,” Felix said, reaching for his discarded bottle of Corona. “Would you like to go first?”
Kara giggled when Felix leaned in closer, lips teasing her exposed collarbones. “Keep it PG,” I requested, glaring at Felix.
“Okay,” Kara said, taking the bottle and placing it onto the table.
“If someone can dare me to get laid, that would be nice,” Jisung said and I reached around to elbow my husband in the side for his smart comment.
I watched as the bottle spun around in its defined circumference before landing on Chan who groaned loudly. “Truth or Dare, Chan!”
“Truth,” Chan said, picking up his bottle of beer. “Knowing you’d guys, I’d be forced to drink the rest of this on a dare and I have to be at the office at six.”
“Are you seeing anyone, Chan?” Kara asked, leaning in close like she was about to hear a juicy secret. Of course, I knew better than anyone because I was often the recipient of Chan’s late-night phone calls when my step-brother would complain to me about his sadly lacking love life.
“No,” Chan huffed, reaching out to give the bottle a powerful spin. “I’m always single.”
I reached across to pat him tenderly on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Channie, there’s a girl out there waiting for you!”
Felix let out a drunken squeak, turning to look at Kara with a smile. “Truth or dare, Felix?”
“Dare,” Felix said, bouncing up and down from his spot on the floor like a loose spring.
“I dare you to...
“...call Changbin,” I spoke over Kara, enjoying the identical looks of matching horror on their countenances.
“What?” Felix questioned, intoxicated brain undoubtedly having trouble keeping up with the flow of our conversation.
“Call. Changbin.” I repeated, much slower this time to leave no room for a potential misunderstanding. Unsurprisingly, Kara hesitantly shook her head at Felix as if asking him to ignore my request. “Those are the rules,” I informed her smugly, watching Felix as he took out his phone with a shaky hand. He dialed Changbin’s number and we all sat forward in profound expectation of what was about to happen.
That is until Changbin’s voicemail picked up.
Kara snatched Felix’s phone and quickly hung up the call. “He’s not answering, so let’s move on to something else.”
I frowned as I sat back against Jisung’s chest, frustrated because Changbin had probably chosen an early night’s sleep in exchange for answering a friend’s important phone call. “Truth or Dare, Y/N.”
“Truth,” I muttered, folding my arms across my chest even as Jisung started to rub gentle circles into my hips as if picking up on my irritation.
Kara’s eyes narrowed. “Were you jealous when I kissed Jisung at prom?”
The room was dead silent following her vengeful question. My cheeks flushed at the reminder, feeling Jisung squirm uncomfortably behind me. It was a horrible thing to ask me, especially considering the circumstances surrounding the unholy night that Minho had silently termed “the worst day of Y/N’s life.” But I suppose that Kara felt warranted to ask me considering the fact that I had just tried to expose her to Changbin. “Of course I was,” I snapped at her, twisting the bottle while maintaining a penetrative staring contest with Felix’s love interest.
My shoulders relaxed when the bottle landed on Kara, and I quickly intervened before Felix could give Kara an easy way out of what was rapidly becoming a terrible mistake. “Are you dating Felix again?” I asked, watching as her eyes narrowed from my choice of words.
“It’s truth or dare, Y/N.”
“Are you afraid to answer the question?” I asked her. “Or are you just using Felix like always?”
Another long silence enveloped our gathered group.
“I guess I don’t get a turn?” Jisung whispered into the tense silence of the room.
“Holy shit!” Hyunjin exhaled when I finally finished explaining everything that had happened at my mother’s house the previous evening.
“She’s a total bitch,” I said. “Everyone knows that we don’t talk about that night.”
Hyunjin nodded in agreement. “Do you remember the ugly suit I wore?”
I glared at my friend. “You’re not helping and we have customers.”
Hyunjin offered me a salute, returning to the register to accept another order while I aggressively wiped down our counters. One of our waitresses watched me with a gaping mouth until I turned to glare at her. She quickly picked up her tray to retreat back into the crowd of college students.
Now, let me start by saying that Junior year prom was never something I was looking forward to attending. The only reason I even went was because Han Jisung asked me to go and my attraction for him had skyrocketed by this time, to the point where I found myself staring at his ass whenever we had gym together and he decided to demonstrate the correct technique for a pull-up. Our friends deemed our relationship inevitable, the romanticized soulmates who met as kids and grew up together with agreeable personalities. Of course, it also helped when puberty hit and suddenly Han Jisung looked less like the little boy I played with on the playground and more like a man whose dick I really wanted to taste.
For a lot of my classmates, Prom meant an unsanctioned night away from the school where they could lose their inhibitions when someone inevitably spiked the punch bowl. There were no school officials present at the event, only volunteers, and since it didn’t take place on school grounds (but inside of a nearby YMCA) everyone could basically do whatever they wanted without consequence. Thus, the next day’s rumor mill was spinning with tales of romance and deceptions, break-ups and hook-ups, and even the occasional wild story of someone stealing from the radio store next door.
“Do you want anything to drink?” Jisung asked me nervously the moment we first walked inside.
“Sure,” I told him, affectionately adjusting the cute bowtie he had chosen for the occasion, cheeks rosy red as he hurried away.
“Y/N!” Hyunjin said, taking Jisung’s place in front of me. “You look great!”
“So do you,” I told him honestly, appraising his suit which likely cost a thousand dollars just to rent for this one occasion. “Where’s your girl?”
“Who knows, she was just meant to be arm candy,” Hyunjin said dismissively and I snorted at his explanation. “I only came here for the drama and the alcohol.”
“Anything interesting so far?” I asked, grinning when I saw Jisung accidentally knock the punch ladle into the floor.
“Changbin came with a Freshman,” Hyunjin said. “I talked to them earlier and he’s definitely only interested in her ass.”
“How crude,” I remarked. “What about the others?”
“I guess Seungmin and Jeongin came with each other,” Hyunjin snickered. “And I haven’t seen Felix yet.”
I paused. “Felix is coming?”
“It was a last-minute thing,” Hyunjin explained. “Apparently, Felix is bringing someone he really likes.”
“I didn’t know Felix was interested in anyone,” I said, with the exception of Changbin’s little sister, of course.
“It’s getting late,” Hyunjin remarked. “He might have been lying.”
“He wasn’t dressed when I left the house,” I said, remembering the sight of my step-brother teasing Jisung and I from behind our parents while they took an endless amount of pictures while relentlessly questioning Jisung about his appearance.
Speaking of which, I graciously accepted the punch Jisung offered me, taking a sip before wincing. “I think someone added way too much.”
Hyunjin reached for my drink, sniffing the rim before downing the rest. “Not too bad.”
Jisung watched him with wide eyes. “Isn’t that strong?”
“Not strong enough,” Hyunjin complained. “I’m going to find something better. Have fun you two, make sure you use a condom if you’re gonna fuck.”
I glared at Hyunjin’s back as he disappeared into the crowd.
Yes, Prom might not have been high on my list of priorities, but the way Jisung was currently kissing me definitely made it more appealing. After ingesting an appropriate amount of alcohol, a tipsy Jisung had latched himself to my side, whispering rather inappropriate things into my ear before I inevitably found a place where we could be alone, safely tucked away inside the locker room. I drug Jisung to a bench where I immediately straddled his thighs, kissing him with enough force to throw him off balance, hand splayed across my hip as he forced his tongue inside my mouth tasting strongly of alcohol. I struggled to pull in enough oxygen to counter the dizziness threatening to send me falling into the floor. Jisung certainly wasn’t helping matters, squeezing my breasts spilling over the neckline of my dress while pressing sloppy kisses to my throat, erection hard through his dress pants and I had never felt hornier in my entire life. And that includes the time Minho bought me a vibrator for my birthday as a joke but I still tried to use it and ended up masturbating to the thought of Jisung fucking me on my mattress.
“You feel so good,” Jisung whispered to me now, rolling his hips into mine as he sought additional friction. I held tightly to the lapels of his jacket because it felt really nice through the thin fabric of my dress when he would move just right, pressing against my clit with a wonderful pressure that nearly made me cum before he could even put it inside.
“Sungie,” I panted into his ear, tasting every inch of his beautiful honey-golden skin. “Please fuck me.”
“Can I?” Jisung asked, thrusts growing erratic as if affected by just the thought of his cock hot and heavy between my thighs. “Yes, of course, baby. I’ll do that for you.”
“Condom?” I managed, reconnecting our lips because I was quickly coming to the realization that Jisung was a wonderful kisser.
“Shit,” he cursed against my mouth. “I left them in the car.”
“I’ll get them,” I said, reaching deep into the pocket of his suit pants for the key, inadvertently brushing against his cock.
Jisung moaned loudly. “Hurry back, baby.”
“And this!” I said, standing up from his lap to reach into my cleavage to pull out a piece of fabric.
“That was in there the whole time?”
“Not important,” I said, shoving the fabric at him. “Put this on?”
“What is it?” Jisung asked, unraveling the cloth.
“A blindfold,” I said and he looked up at me with evident surprise.
“Why do you want me to wear a blindfold?”
“Just put it on, please,” I begged him.
“Why?” Jisung whined, a complete contradiction to the mess he looked with an erection still prominent in his pants.
“I don’t want you to see me,” I said, blushing at the thought of Han Jisung seeing me naked because I was certainly nothing like those busty girls in the porn magazines I found under his mattress.
“Okay,” Jisung grumbled, probably because he was just as aroused as I was even if that meant doing something that might seem utterly ridiculous to anybody else.
“Don’t take it off,” I warned him, glancing over my shoulder to see Jisung tying the blindfold in place.
Satisfied, I silently rushed back into the gym, making my way to the exit despite the obscene displays taking place all around me courtesy of several pairings of passionate couples. I did my best to ignore them, even though I was pretty sure I saw Hwang Hyunjin in the center of the dance floor, shirt unbuttoned and chest exposed for everyone to see. But Hyunjin loved to be at the center of attention, so I left him to entertain the majority of the women flanking to him like a magnet while I jerked open the door to Jisung’s Sudan, finding the condoms across the dirty backseat of his car.
I grew even more excited just by looking at them, hiding them carefully in my hand as I rushed through the parking lot in my haste to find Jisung again. At this point, the party was in full swing, music loud and pounding, testing the acoustics of the YMCA which probably never hosted anything else this insane and chaotic before. But I was on cloud nine, ready to finally have sex with someone I had been crushing on ever since Jisung had shown off his abs to a doubtful Changbin. However, when I re-opened the doors to the locker room, I stumbled in my heels as I was greeted with an unfortunate visual. An unforgettable image of Kara on top of Jisung, kissing him passionately while she practically forced him to grope her chest. “Y/N,” Jisung moaned, apparently completely unaware of who was actually grinding on his dick.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing,” I finally shrieked, completely horrified at the display that would forever engrain itself into my subconscious.
Jisung immediately pulled off his blindfold, eyes widening in shock when he unceremoniously dumped Kara into the floor who loudly protested. “Y/N?”
“Jisung,” I said, looking back between him and Kara with panicked eyes and a broken heart. I had never felt so betrayed before in my entire life, and there had been moments when I felt downright disgusted with my poor choice in men. But Jisung was more important to me than the casual flings from my past, which probably explains my sudden desire to escape the situation that was forcing messy tears through the mascara clumping my eyelashes together. I left Jisung behind in that nasty locker room before losing myself to the crowd of my classmates.
There was only one person I wanted to see, and I found Hyunjin now re-clothed, talking to some other girls when he first saw me approach. He greeted me cheerfully, only realizing my condition once he stopped to notice the tears falling freely from my tired eyes. “Y/N,” Hyunjin said, expression falling as he pulled me into his arms tightly. “Why are you crying?”
“I saw her with Jisung,” was all I managed to get out before Hyunjin’s eyes were practically blazing with fury.
“That little shit,” Hyunjin cursed, grabbing my hand and leading me through the partygoers who were too busy drunkenly grinding on one another to notice the two of us. “Changbin,” Hyunjin said, interrupting the older boy who was currently fingering the edges of a freshman girl’s panties, practically dry humping through their clothes.
“What is it?” Changbin snapped at Hyunjin, eyes narrowed until they landed on me. “Y/N,” Changbin said, tone much softer as he abruptly dismissed his date who whined about their loss of contact. “What happened?”
“Jisung needs his ass kicked,” Hyunjin said and Changbin needed no further encouragement.
“Where the hell is he?”
It was frigidly cold in the parking lot and there was way too much going on around me. I could barely handle the yelling between Changbin and Felix, my step-brother having found us outside with Jisung trailing behind him, but Hyunjin was arguing with Seungmin and Jeongin, refusing to let Jisung close to me. This night was rapidly becoming one of the worst of my entire life and that says a lot because I had once watched my own father walk out of the house without so much as a goodbye.
“Get out of the way, Felix,” Changbin suddenly growled, fists balled at his sides.
“It’s not his fault,” Felix tried to explain.
“Why is Y/N upset, then?” Changbin demanded, shouldering his way through Seungmin and Jeongin who were certainly no match for a physically stronger Changbin.
“He didn’t do anything wrong,” Felix said. “It’s Kara’s fault! She didn’t need to take things that far-”
“Kara!” Changbin interrupted, now even more furious than he was before. “Did you do something to my sister?”
“Not him,” Seungmin suddenly interfered. “Kara and Felix got into a fight and Kara snuck into the locker room to get back at him.”
Changbin took a step back, suspicion bright in his dark eyes. “What did you say?”
“I thought it was Y/N,” Jisung finally spoke up, eyes wet with tears. “She didn’t say anything to me. She just came over and I was waiting for Y/N!”
“What happened to my sister!” Changbin growled.
“She kissed me,” Jisung said, flinching a little when Changbin tried to charge at him, intercepted by Seungmin and Jeongin who held him back by his with as much force as they could manage together. Jisung turned to look at me, gaze entreating as he reached out a hand. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I thought it was you.”
I shook my head, refusing to even look at Han Jisung because my heart was hurting in my chest and the night just continued to grow more and more confusing. “I’ll take care of Y/N,” Hyunjin finally said, sending Jisung a nasty glare before guiding me further and further away from the source of my pain.
But don’t ever let anyone tell you that Seo Changbin didn’t have a soft spot for Han Jisung because, at the drop of a hat, the older boy would immediately be at my husband’s side. And I thoroughly took advantage of this when I asked Jisung to invite Changbin over to our house for dinner one night, the two of them arriving together with Changbin clutching tightly to his sleeping bag. “I guess you’re spending the night,” I remarked.
“Why wouldn’t I? We work at the same place,” came Changbin’s usual response, tossing his bag onto the couch while he followed Jisung into our bedroom, complaining about something to do with the air conditioning. “Your apartment is so much nicer than mine!”
I finished cooking in relative peace, making sure to keep Changbin’s wine glass constantly full because a tipsy Changbin was much easier to deal with than the serious version who would likely explode when he heard my story. “So nice of you Y/N,” Changbin said as he slurped his spaghetti. He and Jisung were always messy when it came to pasta so I tried to ignore their nasty habits.
“Changbin,” I said, studying the older carefully. “I heard Kara was visiting.”
Changbin shrugged, shoving more food into his impossibly small mouth. “She’s been staying at my place.”
“Really?” I asked. “Why haven’t we had a chance to meet her again.”
Changbin glanced up at me. “You don’t even like, Kara, so why would I bother?”
I rolled my eyes at him. “She’s your sister, of course, I would be interested.”
“She stays busy a lot,” Changbin said.
“With who?”
“With work,” Changbin said, taking another long drink of the expensive wine I bought just for this occasion.
“She could have come tonight,” I said carefully, but I had been apparently pushing too far because now Changbin was suspicious.
“What are you getting at, Y/N?”
I took a deep breath, sensing Jisung watching the two of us over a mouthful of noodles. “I saw Kara the other day at my mother’s dinner.”
Changbin paused, considering me with a scowl. “What?”
“She came to our dinner,” I repeated. “With Felix.”
And with the exception of Jisung’s chewing, the room had grown relatively silent. “Why am I just now hearing about this?”
Changbin turned an accusatory gaze at Jisung who just rapidly shook his head and drank more wine. “Probably because she didn’t want anyone to know,” I said. “I think your sister might be trying to start something with Felix again and we both know how badly that turned out last time.”
Changbin dropped his fork, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “So nice of everyone to keep me informed.”
I relaxed a little because Changbin wasn’t reacting as violently as I thought he might. “I wanted to be sure and I got the information I needed today.”
Changbin sighed. “What information?”
“Minho looked through Felix’s phone at their dance practice,” I said. “He saw some messages with Kara. Apparently, they’re going to dinner tomorrow night. Isn’t that nice?”
Changbin’s jaw clenched as he took in this news. “And I’m assuming you have something planned?”
“Maybe,” I said with an innocent shrug. “It could be that Minho, Hyunjin, and I happened to make a reservation at the same place.”
“You’re gonna spy on them?”
“Would you rather us not?”
Changbin scoffed, dark hair falling into his eyes. “Are you asking me to come?”
“Only if you want to.”
“Well of course I do,” Changbin grunted impatiently, reaching down for another forkful of spaghetti while I sat back in my chair with satisfaction.
“This is surprisingly classy of Felix,” Hyunjin remarked, rolling down the window of Minho’s SUV to perch a pair of binoculars on the end of his nose.
“Aren’t you taking this too far?” Minho asked his friend.
“These?” Hyunjin asked, adjusting the lenses. “How else am I supposed to see what’s going on?”
“This is my sister we’re talking about,” Changbin spoke up, tugging at the frayed sleeves of his borrowed jacket.
“And Y/N’s stepbrother,” Minho added.
“I don’t claim him by blood,” I said, reaching over to slap Changbin’s hands. “Stop messing with that, you’re gonna ruin it, and this is Jisung’s nicest coat!”
My husband in question had opted to stay at home since he was probably the smartest out of all of us when it came to potential confrontations. “You’re rich enough to buy him another,” Changbin grumbled.
“He doesn’t wear them,” I said. “I buy him all sorts of clothes, but they always sit in his closet.”
“Who’s he trying to impress at an Elementary school?” Hyunjin snorted.
“Can’t we just go inside already?” I asked, slowly massaging my throbbing temples.
“Yeah, but can you shimmy the lock on your door?” Minho requested. “I’m pretty sure it’s broken.”
I accommodated his request before the four of us walked into the restaurant with an air of nonchalance. Nothing but four friends since childhood deciding to eat out together for a gourmet meal. It reminded me of college when the four of us shared the same lecture, a one-time occurrence because Minho forgot a general education course, and we always ate together because it ended in the early evening.
Of course, there was always the matter of the other three using me to find the answers to our homework assignment because they didn’t feel like completing the calculations.
The hostess inside the restaurant greeted us, checking Hyunjin’s reservation before leading us to our table. “Do you see them?” Hyunjin asked, deciding not to be so discreet in the distracting way he moved his head around, surveying the restaurant landscape with a sharp eye.
“This is so stupid,” Changbin grimaced.
“Are you too cool to eat with us?” Minho joked, gasping when he noticed the free wine samples menu.
“I’ll look around,” I said. “Give me five minutes.”
“And then what?” Hyunjin asked even as I was already moving away, sticking to the outskirts of the finely decorated tables. According to Minho, Felix and Kara should have already been at the restaurant for half an hour, probably weighing the consequences of keeping their new affair a secret from the rest of us. But I had no intention of letting them sneak away with anything, determined to get to the bottom of whatever relationship Felix was attempting with Changbin’s little sister, the same person who had openly scorned and rejected Felix in the past. This really demonstrates just how powerful a crush can be when it involves someone as determined as Felix.
“Aha!” I murmured quietly, discovering the couple together near the private dining room at the back. Reaching for my cell phone, I sent Minho a quick text message, waiting for a moment or so before I could see the three boys carefully making their way to my hiding spot.
“Ridiculous,” Changbin muttered, but he let out a disappointed sigh when he saw his sister and Felix together. “I guess you were right.”
Changbin was squatting down in front of the display of plants, peeling back the branches to find a better view. “Damn, Changbin,” I said, reaching down to give his ass an appreciative slap. “Who are you trying to impress?”
“Keep your hands to yourself,” Changbin snapped at me. “It’s not my fault that Han’s flatter than his vocal pitch.”
“Burn,” Hyunjin remarked while I scoffed in response.
“Jisung is a great singer.”
“Yeah, the kids are so impressed,” Minho giggled, ignoring the glare I sent him over my shoulder.
“They can’t be dating,” Changbin said. “I would have known about this. Kara would have told me!”
“That definitely looks like a date to me,” Minho teased Changbin.
“Unless friends share five-star meals now,” Hyunjin commented, glancing at me. “Interested in eating out again tomorrow, Y/N?”
“Only if you pay,” I replied dryly, watching Felix and Kara with intent.
“I can’t stand this,” Changbin declared, attempting to blow our cover by rising to his full height.
I desperately tugged on his shirt. “They’ll see us!”
“I don’t care,” Changbin grunted, pulling away from me only to march down the staircase to where Felix and Kara were laughing together over a meal of what appeared to be filet mignon and cabernet.
“Should we watch or get involved?” I asked, grinning when Felix finally realized that Changbin had spotted them. The all-consuming look of existential dread passing across his features was well worth the price of admission, including an outrageous gratuity fee.
“Definitely watch,” Minho nodded, tossing an arm around my shoulders. “You did good, Y/N.”
“Unless Changbin causes a scene,” Hyunjin remarked.
“I hope he does because I can record it for Jisung later,” I said, letting out a satisfied grin when Changbin stopped at their table.
Minho was one step ahead of me, pressing the record button at the top of his phone. “Maybe we’ll become YouTube famous!”
“I can’t believe you told him,” Felix snapped at me later. The six of us were outside the restaurant, having decided to pull Changbin and Kara away from the reproachful eyes of the upper elite who wanted to dine in peace.
“Why wouldn’t I? I’m looking out for you.”
“By outing me to Changbin?”
“Of course,” I nodded, watching as Kara received a stern lecture from her older brother. “You can’t honestly be considering a relationship with Kara?”
“Is there something wrong with that?” Felix asked.
“You must have a selective memory,” I said. “Or did you forget what happened in high school?”
“That was a long time ago!”
“She also used you during college. Don’t tell me you think she came around campus just for your company?”
Hyunjin, from somewhere to my right, let out a low whistle. Minho stood next to him, taking in the drama unfolding around him with eager eyes. “I don’t care about any of that!” Felix protested. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
“Felix,” I said, lowering my tone. “I just want you to be happy.”
“Well you’re doing a really bad job with that,” Felix snapped.
“It’s not because I don’t want things to work out,” I said. “I just know who she is and what she’s capable of.”
“Is that so?”
“You were too, Felix! Everything she ever did to you was always in an effort to hurt you. That’s why I have to interfere, to make sure that she doesn’t do anything like that!”
“Yeah? Well, I don’t care. You aren’t my real sister, so stop trying to act like it!”
His words were crushing and I suddenly felt equivalent to the world’s smallest person as I watched Felix walk away into the haze of city lights.
Jisung was sunshine and he once told me that he would do everything in his power to make me happy, even getting down on one knee to propose at our college graduation ceremony, nervous hands sliding a beautiful ring onto my finger. Jisung always knew when I was feeling sad or angry, dropping everything that he had been working on to make me feel better. Like in instances such as this, when my step-brother publicly disowns me, walking away without looking back once to assess the damage he had made of my fragile heart. “I deserved it,” I told Jisung, closing my eyes against his chest as I enjoyed the soothing water of the bath he prepared for me.
“No, you didn’t,” Jisung countered, wrapping his arms tightly around my middle. “You thought you were helping him.”
“I guess I have no right to interfere,” I said. “Even if I’m worried that Kara will only hurt him again.”
“And she might,” Jisung agreed. “But I think Felix can handle it. Sometimes, you forget that he’s all grown up.”
“I ruined our relationship,” I said. “Felix won’t ever talk to me again and Kara is probably mad at Changbin.”
“Felix can’t avoid you,” Jisung said. “You have the same friends.”
“Ha,” I snorted. “You don’t know Felix very well. If he sets his mind to something, then there’s nothing that can stop him.”
“Actually, I do know Felix, and that’s why I’m pretty sure he’ll call you any day now and ask to talk.”
I turned around in his arms, trying to see any hint of teasing in Jisung’s brown eyes. “Why do you think that?”
“Because Felix respects you, even if you make him mad,” Jisung said, surprising me with a gentle kiss. “He told me all the time when we were younger that he thinks you’re one of the coolest people he’s ever met.”
“Felix said that?”
“Yeah,” Jisung nodded. “And I completely agree.”
“You’re obligated to say that,” I said. “Marriage and shit.”
“But I’ve always meant it, Y/N,” Jisung insisted. “You have a really good heart and you always have our best intentions in mind, even if that means you feel the need to spy on your step-brother.”
“Now it sounds creepy,” I complained.
“I can’t imagine you dragging around Changbin, Minho, and Hyunjin, hiding behind tables in the middle of an expensive restaurant.”
“That’s funny because I can’t imagine you in an expensive restaurant at all.”
“Really?” Jisung grinned, digging his fingers into my sides. “Try saying that again.”
I squealed in his arms, pleading for mercy. “I thought you wanted to relax?”
“This was all for you,” Jisung said, pulling me onto his lap. “I think we should go to bed early.”
“I am tired,” I smirked.
His cock was hard against my lower back. “What if I let you ride my face?”
“Then you’ll be the best husband in the world.”
The following Saturday, Jisung’s prediction came true when Felix’s name flashed across my phone screen while I enjoyed lunch with Seungmin and Jeongin. “It’s Felix,” I hissed at them before taking the call. “Hello?”
“Y/N,” Felix’s deep voice greeted me on the other end. “I hope you’re not busy.”
“I’m just having lunch,” I said, waving my hand at Seungmin who was attempting to mouth imperceptible words at me from across the table.
“I want to apologize for the other night with Kara,” Felix said. “At dad’s house and at the restaurant.”
“I’m sorry too, Felix,” I said. “I shouldn’t have told Changbin about his sister.”
“No,” Felix sighed. “But Changbin deserves to know the truth. He called me the other day and told me that Kara had left the next morning. She didn’t even bother telling him where she was going.”
I felt my heartbreak for my step-brother. “I didn’t think she would do that.”
“You don’t have to be nice, Y/N,” Felix said. “Everything you said about Kara was true and I should’ve listened.”
“I never did any of that to teach you a lesson, Felix.”
“Yeah,” Felix murmured into the phone. “It doesn't matter anymore. Kara’s gone and I’ll have to move on.”
“But I still feel really bad,” I said. “Maybe we could all hang out tonight? Like we did before we had adult things to worry about.”
Felix chuckled. “I think that sounds nice.”
“Keep your hands away from the food,” I scolded Jisung, giving his ass a firm slap before directing him out of the kitchen. “This is for the party tonight!”
“But it smells good,” Jisung complained.
“You can have as much as you want later,” I said, frowning at Changbin from across the room. “Are you trying to break my mother’s vase?”
The older boy scowled at me. “I can’t reach, alright? You were the one who asked me to decorate.”
“Please help him,” I said, sending Jisung rushing to hang up the streamers before Changbin could possibly sabotage our apartment. The others were due to arrive at any moment and I was already unprepared, food still cooking and my husband and his friend proving to be completely inept at decorating. I wanted everything to be nice for Felix, but honestly? He shouldn’t expect much from this crew.
Graciously, the arrival of Hyunjin brought about an extra few inches of height, allowing the streamers to hang gracefully from the mantlepiece. “What would you do without me, Y/N?” he inquired innocently, handing me the cake he had brought from our cafe.
“I’d need to buy a step ladder,” I teased him, rushing back into the safety of the kitchen to avoid his retaliation. In the meantime, Jisung happily answered the door for our other guests, ushering them inside to crowd our living room. Sadly, our apartment was never meant to be large enough to accommodate this many guests, but it was strangely cozy with all of us together.
“It’s been a while,” Chan remarked to Changbin. “Why don’t we do this sort of thing anymore?”
“Beats me,” Changbin replied. “But Y/N has a nice selection of wine.”
“I’m glad that’s the reason you come around,” I remarked, bringing out the final tray of food to fill out the rest of the table. “Whenever Felix gets here we can eat.”
“He shouldn’t be so late,” Minho said, trying his best to sneak a cube of cheese from the corner.
“Patience my friend,” I said. “It will make everything taste so much better.”
“Not with your cooking,” Minho teased, protesting when I threw my oven mitt at him over the counter separating the kitchen from the dining room.
“You’ll never change,” I remarked.
“Why would you want me to?” Minho asked, ignoring my glare when he grabbed a handful of popcorn.
“Do you want to be suspended from my house?”
“Jisung would never allow it,” he said, whining at my husband. “Right, Sungie?”
Jisung looked back and forth between the two of us. “You two are sometimes worse than my kids at school.”
Before I could offer a compelling comeback, the ringing of our doorbell paused our conversation. The sound indicated Felix’s arrival and Seungmin was the first to greet him, holding him close as they entered the dining room. “Nice of you to join us,” I said, handing my step-brother a plate. “This is all for you.”
“I’m honored,” Felix said, accent thick as he abruptly pulled me into a vice-like grip that nearly knocked me off my feet.
“Too much,” I choked out.
“Don’t kill my wife,” Jisung joked, intervening before Felix could possibly squeeze any more oxygen from my lungs.
The remainder of the evening passed by with a nostalgic tone, the nine of us gathered together in the living room to watch anime on TV while Hyunjin complained about our newest hiree again. “Hey,” he said, snapping his fingers in my direction. “He already had two strikes. One more mess-up and he’s gone.”
“He’s just a kid, Hyunjin,” I said. “Remember when you used to work at Starbucks? I’m surprised you even managed to stay on for an entire year!”
Hyunjin protested loudly over the laughter of 8 other people who clearly remembered sitting in Starbucks on Campus just to watch Hyunjin mess-up orders while whining at the customers to slow down when he was in charge of the register. “He gave me a macchiato when I asked for an Americano,” Minho said.
“One time, Hyunjin closed the store an hour early because he forgot about our project,” Seungmin interjected much to Hyunjin’s chagrin who was now very much embarrassed.
Jisung pulled me closer to him on the chair next to the fireplace, watching our friends talk with obvious affection. “I think Felix is happy.”
I nodded my agreement, observing him from afar. “We did a good job.”
“You did a good job,” Jisung corrected, leaning in closer to whisper directly into my ear. “I love you, Y/N.”
“Love you more,” I said, gripping tightly to Jisung’s hand with no intention of ever letting go because our hold on another had never lessened from the very first day we met as kids, unaware that we would be sharing the rest of our forever together.
#stray kids#stray kids fanfic#stray kids smut#han jisung#han jisung fanfic#han jisung smut#stray kids han#han fanfic#han smut
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*Insert Seinfeld Slap Bass*
Prologue | Chapter 1 |
Characters: Grimmjow Jaegerjquez, Kugo Ginjo, Kukaku Shiba, Kisuke Urahara, Ichigo Kurosaki, Shukuro Tsukishima
Pairings: Grimmjow/Ginjo, Kisuke/Yoruichi
Genre: Comedy, Romance, Family, Government Espionage
Warnings: Mature language, s3xual humor, fighting/violence, alcohol, mentions of death, rap battles with government officials
Chapter 1:
‘Shaking a Bag of Catfood Outside of the Shiba Residence’
The air on the outskirts of the Rukon District always had a lighter feel to it. Kukaku had seldom stepped away from her fireworks shop to enter the inner districts by the Seireitei ever since her brother’s passing, but even so she would occasionally indulge herself by standing outside of the Shiba manor to take in the sight of the mountain-like structure in the distance. The wind blew gently through the field of grass and Kukaku cursed herself for not wearing her prosthetic arm today to help protect her smoking pipe.
Through the whistling of the wind, she heard the front doors of the manor clatter open and someone approach her. By the familiar light jingling of a silver chain, she identified her visitor without even turning her head.
“I’m taking it by how soon you’re back, you couldn’t fix it?” she remarked with a puff of tobacco smoke.
The voice that replied was deep and male, “Don’t know what to tell you. I said I’m not familiar with pyrotechnic equipment since I worked with cars.”
Kukaku waved dismissively at him with her right stump, “Bah, I already told you not to try and explain that modern living world stuff to me. If you can’t fix my launcher then I guess I gotta pay someone to look at it. Anyways, did you let the cat in, yet?”
There was a pause from her visitor, followed by a shallow and sharp breath. Removing her kiseru from her mouth and flicking the ashes into the wind, Kukaku turned to face him and raised one eyebrow.
“You didn’t hear me or something, Ginjo?” she said with smoke coming from between her teeth, “I like that cat. I like his regular visits. Almost as nice to have come by as Yoruichi. Has he come by yet and have you let him in?”
Kugo Ginjo tossed a rag blotched with black stains over his shoulder and looked away from Kukaku, “Yeah, and I told you he’s irritating as hell.”
The head of the Shiba clan stuck her pipe between her teeth and wrinkled her nose, “Gotcha. Hang on before I go through with your request, lemme find the slip of paper that says you pay the rent to have an opinion over me.”
The chutzpah in Kugo fractured and by the twitch of his eye and clench of his jaw he knew he was backed into a verbal wall. He fixed the collar of the haori that the Shibas had lent him as he bit his tongue to avoid saying something he shouldn’t to the head of the household.
Unfortunately, with being ‘dead’, that meant he had come to the Soul Society with the clothes he had died in and nothing else. When Kukaku took him and his other two companions in, she offered him clothes that resembled a Meiji-era style, but unfortunately for Kugo this was the closest to ‘modern’ the styles got outside of very expensive custom-made clothing orders. This particular outfit was a fern green kimono with a scale pattern and a dark grey haori. Not that Kugo had any room to complain to begin with, but at least this one was bearable to wear.
As he opened his mouth to respond to her, the front door clattered open again and two men nearly double his size in twin uniforms disregarded his presence completely and bellowed to Kukaku like two henchmen to a yakuza boss.
“MY LADY, WE HAVE FOUND THE CAT IN THE EQUIPMENT STORAGE ROOM TODAY,” they thundered, “SHALL WE BRING HIM TO THE PARLOUR, MA’AM?”
Kukaku flickered her slate grey eyes from the giant men to Kugo and gave a wink, silently flaunting her intuition for the ‘cat’ having just arrived. She flicked the ashes in her kiseru into the wind again and began moving back inside of the Shiba manor, on the way smacking Kugo’s arm with the back of her hand.
“Storage room?” she mused, then waved her hand, “Nah, I’ll meet him there. Probably was looking for this guy, anyways. Koganehiko and Shiroganehiko, set things up for us in the parlour and we’ll be up shortly. Come along and help me greet our guest with me, Ginjo.”
One of the guards held out an open box with a fitted silk interior to Kukau and the other a small ceramic bowl with a wooden lid. To the ceramic pot Kukaku dumbed the rest of her ashes from the pipe and then carefully placed her kiseru in the silk-lined box. After closing the containers, the two giant men bowed to her and then went off back inside of the manor with shockingly light footsteps for their stature.
Kugo grimaced and followed behind her down a flight of stairs, “...Hey, at least he didn’t end up outside like the first few times.”
The Shiba residence was certainly a fascinating structure; from the outside it looked like little more than a shack aside from Kukaku’s gaudy, ever-changing outdoor decorations and the massive sealed ‘chimney’. Directly inside, however, there was a staircase that lead to a labyrinth of lower levels, lit by a strange light-emitting herb that the Shibas planted inside of the walls and left open with shelf-like holes in the ceilings.
She lead Kugo to a specific sliding door on left hand side in the middle of the hall. The rest of the doors were normal, everyday-average sliding doors, but this one had a window beside it with a panel in place that said ‘CLEAR’ likewise with an opposite side that would say ‘WORK IN PROGRESS’. This was where Kukaku and her pyrotechnics team would construct, prepare, and store every manner of launchers, mounts, or casings for fireworks that were ordered. Despite the sign currently displaying ‘CLEAR’, Kukaku still knocked.
“Heeeyyyy, Grimmjow!”she called as she began pushing the door open, “You in here? We’re coming in!”
Being perfectly content with his distance from the room, Kugo had remained behind Kukaku with his gaze fixed into a half-annoyed glare looking away from the storage room door. It wasn’t that he outright hated Grimmjow, it was just… well…
The sound of the wooden door clattering open was enough to cover the sound and of course neither of the two were paying attention to their surroundings, so a black figure was able to successfully swing down from a hole in the ceiling where the light-emitting herbs were.
“VIBE CHECK.”
Perhaps it was his keen intuition or his reflexes honed from nearly two decades of combat, but Kugo was just barely able to catch an assailant’s foot before it came in contact with his head. In the space contained in a half-second, Kugo turned from confusion to burning irritation. Gritting his teeth, he yanked his attacker’s leg towards him, throwing them off-balance and sending them to the ground. Without missing a beat, Kugo used his free arm to come down with his forearm full-force on the attacker’s neck; they were just as fast as he was, though, and threw one arm up to brace the blow as they were slammed intot he ground with a residing ‘THUD’.
Kukaku was frozen for a moment at hearing the attack behind her, but then turned on her heels and snapped at the two, “GOD DAMMIT, I SAID NONE OF THAT IN THE HOUSE.”
Kugo didn’t look up at her, instead keeping an unamused scowl at the being below him. Bright blue eyes like lightning stared back at him and were paired with a grin more animal-like than human.
“Heheheh. You’re gettin’ slower,” a gravelly voice chuckled, “Careful, all you need is one misstep and you die, Ginjo.”
The fullbringer grit his teeth, “You’re a little late for that, Grimmjow.”
Kukaku slapped her one hand against the wall, making a noise loud enough that the two men separated begrudgingly and stood on their feet. The humanoid being that stood before Kugo was very clearly not human; not persay for his wild blue hair or the jawbone mask on his cheek, but for the air about him… a look in his cobalt eyes that gave the sensation that you weren’t talking with another person so much as facing a wild animal. What was it that Tsukishima told Kugo this feeling was…? Ah, right, the ‘uncanny valley’; a survival instinct in humans to recognize something that looks like a human but isn’t.
Kugo knew the origins of Grimmjow and what he was classified as, though, as thanks to Tsukishima-- his former mentee and current fellow guest of the Shibas--having used his complicated ability to see into others’ pasts to learn about Hollows, arrancars, and the Espada from others who had encountered him. Of course he couldn’t register Grimmjow as a person, for the pure fact that Grimmjow was the end of a long chain of congregation, mutation, and evolution of thousands of Hollows-- dead and forsaken or vengeful souls that became one person with their own unique personalities, typically with a lack of human emotion or empathy. It wasn’t as though Kugo was completely disgusted in such an existence, though; after all, a Hollow was the only reason that he was born with his own particular powers.
“Did you bring me my delivery, Grimms?” Kukaku piped up, holding out her one arm and beckoning for the blue haired man.
Grimmjow kept his eyes locked on Kugo and wore a flat expression while fixing his short jacket and collar. Still maintaining eye contact, he reached inside of his black zip-up shirt and retrieved a white envelope packed full and thick.
“Right here for ya,” Grimmjow responded, “And you can uphold your end of this deal, right, Shiba woman?”
Kugo blinked at the arrancar and then turned to shoot Kukaku a questioning glare. He was no stranger to deals of a certain nature happening regularly outside of the club or even down the street from where he lived, and typically he didn’t care, but… was this really what was happening between Grimmjow and Kukaku? She didn’t seem like that kind of person.
...However, she seemed to ignore Kugo completely as she grinned back at Grimmjow and rested her hand on her hip.
“That’s a good man,” she nodded, “Knew I could count on ya to deliver for me. Alright, now before we talk this out let me get you upstairs and settled into the parlour. It ain’t right for me as lady of the Shiba clan to not treat a business partner with hospitality. You hungry, Grimmjow?”
Kukaku didn’t wait for a response before turning around and heading back down the hallway. The arrancar gave Kugo another glance, warranting another small scowl from Kugo which caused Grimmjow to smirk. Folding his arms behind his head and locking his fingers in place, Grimmjow meandered down the hall in the same direction as Kukaku.
He scoffed, “I told ya I don’t need to eat human food unless I’m in a gigai. Although… if you’re offering to feed me regardless, you ain’t gonna like what I tell you I can eat.”
Kukaku waved her hand, “Forget it, then. It’s other Hollows, right? At least that’s what I heard from Tsukishima. That’s not really an easily accessible game for people like us for a plethora of reasons but I mean hell, who knows? If I’m satisfied with my delivery I might just have to send Ginjo out to grab me a few of those little bastards for you. What’s a former Soul Reaper for if not odd jobs like that?”
Kugo begrudgingly found his way behind them and felt his eye twitch slightly again, “Excuse me, so now I’m just your live-in Hollow exterminator…?”
“Hollow catcher,” Kukaku corrected.
Grimmjow curled his lips and made a noise in his throat, “Ugh, as if I’m such a poor hunter on my own that I need an already half-assed fighter to catch a meal for me. No offense, Shiba, but if you’re gonna make this guy do anything for me I’d rather you get a--”
A stub of an arm was pointed back at the arrancar, “Business in the parlour. I’ll listen to you fully, but if I’m trying to maintain a system here I can’t go about making deals in my storage rooms.”
Kugo felt a familiar muscle in his left shoulder tense up as it normally did with stress. As he reached up to try and give himself some relief to it, he debated if he should make another remark to Grimmjow and Kukaku that he wasn’t just some chore boy or exchangeable item… then again, with how weird and wild these two were, his words would fall on deaf ears, anyways.
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A/N: This chapter took longer to come out than I intended simply because in the time frame I wanted to finish the last five paragraphs I ended up getting a looottt of work piled on me, but fortunately it’s up now! Next chapter will hopefully be only a few days behind it!
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I simply must ask... could you spare some spooky Halloween headcanons? I know it’s not quite Halloween yet but I’d love to see your spin on a jojo Halloween!
Oho....hohoho...you have no idea what kind of a beast you’ve awakened in me...
Halloween is arguably the best holiday ever because free candy, costumes, and the weather is fucking PERFECT. (also idk what’s up with the rest of y’all but Canadian thanksgiving is in the middle of October so I’m still riding the high of good thanksgiving food by the time its Halloween (AND I’m half-American so we celebrate it in November too hehehe)
But long story short I love spooky season (and autumn in general) with a burning passion and I am SO willing to go hard on jjba spooky headcanons
Thanks again to @jjadegreen for alway being my best headcanon bud!!
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Part One:
-For the sake of this, I’m making them like 13 or something, like maybe not even a year after they met
-In 19th century England, it was actually pretty typical for them to have a bonfire on Halloween!!
-Halloween costumes were popularized a few centuries ago in France so you bet our phantom blood buds were wearing costumes and shit :)
-I doubt the rich participated in such “unruly” stuff like lighting shit on fire and bearing torches and whatever (but you never know)
-Like George probably spoiled Jonathan with candy as a kid and let him dress up with his school friends and that was it lol
-Dio though OH MY GOD-
-You know based on where he grew up that all that wild shit definitely happened
-He can’t say that he misses living like that, but there’s some kind of weird nostalgia that comes with it
-...which is why Jonathan is really confused when he catches Dio sneaking out of the mansion in the middle of the night
-Begrudgingly, he tells Jojo his plan and this boy’s eyes LIGHT UP
-Instead of being a “stupid, crybaby, tattletale,” as Dio puts it, Jojo is like,,,super hyped
-“Oh! I have an idea! Why don’t we sneak out in costumes so no-one knows it’s us??”
-The sheets on their beds may have two holes in them now, but it's worth it
-They hijack a horse or some shit and skeet over to a giant bonfire
-Dio thinks it's gonna be a drag since Jonathan is there to watch his every move, but it's actually,,,really fun
-As a kid who’s barely ever left his sheltered property, Jonathan is having the time of his life and Dio never thought he would be happy to see Jonathan so happy
-It ends with the two of them sitting by the river, absolutely exhausted from the rush and Jonathan pulls out this bag of shit from his pocket and is like
-“It’s candy!! :D”
-Dio could never really afford things like sweets on Halloween growing up so he’s a bit touchy about it but OH MY GOD that shit is GOOD
-Probably one of the only times where they actually bond properly
-BUT IF THIS IS MY POCKET DIMENSION THEN I CAN SAY THAT THEY BECOME FRIENDS >:)
Part Two:
-I’m just gonna start out with the fact that Joseph is fucking OBSESSED with candy. You know those kids you knew growing up that loved it more than anything on this goddamn earth? *cough cough @jjadegreen*
-That is Joseph
-And now that he consumes that type of shit with the power of mastered Hamon at his fingertips,,,holy shit man,,,it's like a child’s sugar rush but 100x worse
-Caeasr is put in charge of Jojo to make sure he doesn’t do anything idiotic *which he definitely will trust me*
-The MOMENT he goes to the bathroom, Suzi pops in like “JOJO!!!! :) Let's go trick or treating!!!”
-He can’t say no to that, bro,,,he and Suzi are tight ;-;
-While Lisa Lisa is out to meet Speedwagon and Erina and bring them back over to where everyone else is, Joseph sneaks out with Suzi and the two of them dash off into the streets of New York
Caesar: *steps out of bathroom*
“Jojo, what the hell do you and Suzi want for dinner?”
*silence*
“...Jojo?”
*Hears the screams of of children in the distance*
“JOJO, NO—”
-So turns out Joseph’s way of trick-or-treating at such an old age is just terrorizing young children and ransacking them for candy
-Suzi Q is just totally unphased by how awful this is and just thinks its the funniest shit
-Caesar is running out into the streets of New York like ???? and spots Joseph being himself and he could probably just pretend he doesn’t know them
-But,,,Joseph may be an idiot but he’s his idiot and Suzi Q is his bimbo best friend so he goes out to drag them back home
-Erina, Lisa Lisa, and Speedwagon are already home by the time they get back and Caesar sits Joseph down and chews him out in front of everyone
-Erina is super pissed and lectures him about “Joestar values” or whatever and tells a really embarrassing story about how a kid took his candy once when he was little and he cried about it for DAYS
-Caesar is still really angry about it so he replaces all of Joseph’s gummies with sugar free ones (you goddamn know the ones I’m talking about) but he didn’t know Joseph WOULD EAT THEM ALL AT ONCE
-He is so fucking sick on November 1st
-Also off-topic but Lisa Lisa gives out dental floss or some shit on halloween
Part Three:
-Honestly all Jotaro wants to do is buy candy for himself, hole himself up in his room like he always does, and just munch and watch shitty horror movies
-But of course he has actual friends now
-Kakyoin tackles him before he can get his ass upstairs and suggests that they go out and trick-or-treat
-To which Jotaro thinks is a joke and laughs because he’s not only 17, but also 6’5” but Kak’s face looks dead serious
-Kakyoin goes on this long, detailed ramble about how he meticulously made the best Halloween route for them to get the best candy
-Now THIS is when Polnareff abandons whatever he and Avdol are doing to join in on the stupid plan they have
-When Kakyoin comes back with a handful of white sheets, they already know what he’s thinking and its brilliant
Kakyoin’s 5-step, foolproof Halloween plan:
Step one: It’s already established that stands can hold non-stand items (like when Star Plat whipped Iggy across the desert) so what’s stopping them from being able to have sheets over their heads?
Step two: They faze a bit of their stands into the ground so that they at least resemble the height of children (plus non-stand users can’t see anything besides the sheets so it's perfect)
Step three: Polnareff pretends to be the father of these shy children who can’t speak (he looks the oldest) while Jotaro and Kakyoin hide nearby so their stands don’t de-summon
Step four: Hit up every good house in the neighbourhood
Step Five: Candy.
(Kak used to put a sheet over hierophant all the time as a kid and always got twice the amount of candy each year)
-It actually works pretty well, aside from the fact that Star would sometimes scream “ORA” in a really deep, manly, not seven years old at all voice whenever the people at the door would try to speak with him or make him say ‘trick-or-treat’
-They finally reach the richest house in the neighbourhood, where the snootiest lady lives (but she has a shit ton of candy leftover every year since no one goes there)
-Once the stands knock on the door, she starts saying stuff like “ohh, let me see your faces so I make sure you aren’t too old for this” and ducks under to look at the sheets…
-...Only to find that there’s literally nothing there
-She looks up at Polnareff like 👁👄👁 and Kakyoin seems to get the message because one of hierophant’s tentacles grabs her ankle and she SCREAMS and throws her entire candy stash at them, slamming the door behind her
-Half of them are full-sizes chocolate bars. Candy acquired.
-When they get back, Joseph is so fucking angry that they didn’t invite him out for Halloween shenanigans >:(
-Avdol and Holy have a very nice chat, meanwhile. They answer the door while everyone's gone and are so sweet to the kids about their costumes :)
-Also Avdol is 100% the kind of person to bake pumpkin seeds and season them and shit
-Kakyoin sorts all his candy and puts it on a spreadsheet and also make a pie chart just like he does every year
-T’was a very successful halloween
Part Five:
-Giorno is probably short enough to go out if he really wanted to
-But he has maturity issues and there would be no way in hell that the Bucci Gang would catch him going out in a costume and begging for candy
-So as soon as all the daily tasks and shit are met Giorno locks himself in his room
-He honestly wants some candy and to watch spooky movies with the gang but he just feels like an outsider to all of that stuff since he never did it
-So Bruno slips a thing of dracula-themed chocolate pudding under his door and leaves him be :)
-Narancia and Mista DO go out, however
-Not only do they go out and steal shit, but they also go and hit up houses for candy just for the fun of it
-The moment the clock strikes 6 Trish is OUT of there
-Girl is hitting up as many parties as she possibly can and eventually meets up with Nara and Mista at some shitty Halloween party and end up just buying really shitty beer and going to the graveyard or something
-Fugo wants none of that shit
-He’s perfectly content sitting with the black cat that Giorno made him and watching shitty reruns of whatever’s on
-Bruno takes out his tacky Halloween apron that definitely looks something like this
-Fugo helps him make all this really good spooky-themed dessert shit and helps him sort the candy in the nut and nut-free bowls :))) (because Bruno really goes and does that)
-Abbacchio seems like the kind of person who would go really fucking hard with Halloween decorations
-Like, no explanation why, he just loves it and everyone knows not to get in his way
-The moment October 1st comes around, this man is in his ELEMENT. He’s READY.
-It’s the one month where he looks anywhere near normal compared to other people and man is ready to rock that shit
-Later that night they go to check on Giorno and find him asleep surrounded by bags of candy
-Turns out he snuck out and had a good time after all :’)
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You’re wondering why I skipped part 4, right? ↓ ↓
I’m sorry to disappoint y’all, but I don’t think I’m gonna be doing much for Whumptober this year! (I’m just shit at monthly challenges in general lmao) but I think y’all need a breather from all this giant dump of whumpy stuff coming this month, so I, your dear friend Cherry, have decided to write fics throughout the month that I dub SOFT HALLOWEEN :D (with uhhh a side of whump and hurt/comfort and all that shit because I can’t help myself)
It’s gonna vary (hopefully from parts 1-5)! I didn’t add any part four headcanons in here because Jade and I are literally writing part 4 shenanigans first and we didn’t wanna spoil anything :)
SPEAKING OF SPOILERS here’s a horrifying, blurry, teaser picture that’s only gonna make sense once you read the fic:
Isn’t it beautiful?
Hope you enjoyed these!! Tell me what you want the Jojos to do on Halloween!
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Ok so apparently its not normal to sort your candy by type, count it all out and then put it into a spreadsheet which then gets made into a graph? Because I did that. EVERY. FUCKING. YEAR. Ask Jade. She was there every goddamn time. Please I’m begging you someone else tell me you did shit like this I need to know
#jjba#jjba headcanons#halloween#halloween headcanons#jojos's bizarre adventure#phantom blood#battle tendency#jojo's bizzare adventure golden wind#vento aureo#stardust crusaders#jonathan joestar#ask-c-c-cherry#joseph joestar#jotaro kujo#giorno giovanna#spooky month#:)
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