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allfearstofallto · 7 months

Note

Okie so we've had childe meeting scara's wife, but what about scara meeting childe's wife for the first time? If not can we hear more about the first one?

- 🍓

You are so right strawberry!! My dumbass really forgot that I could write the scenario going the other way!!

Scaramouche Meeting Childe's Wife

Yandere Childe! x reader x Yandere(?) Scaramouche

After almost a year of Childe fawning over you, the look of disinterest his coworker gave you was rather refreshing. The man, only a head shorter than Childe and obviously much more frail looking, had a scowl that could kill. You wondered how long it took to get a look that aggressive, but somehow still elegant on his delicate features.

“And this is my lovely wife!” Childe said rather excitedly and the man merely rolled his eyes.

“It's very nice to meet you,” you muttered softly, he didn't have much in the way to say back. Despite the cold of Snezhnaya he was wearing a shirt that barely went down to his elbows, shorts, and sandals. The cold of Snezhnaya wasn't normal, it felt like the air was biting you. You couldn't even leave the house without a few good layers, yet here he was walking through it with ease, “You're not dressed well for the weather.”

Another glare was shot your way, his eyes colder than the snow, “Skip the pleasantries. I'm here because I have to be. Don't pretend you want to speak with me.”

You didn't even dare look at Childe after the man spoke. He was always so quick to anger, especially when it came to you. Childe had very few loyalties in his life, one of them being the Tsaritsa, the other being you. He often told you how easily he could and would turn on anyone else if needed be, and it seemed this coworker was going to be no different.

“Number six,” you could hear that he was forcing the words through gritted teeth, “Perhaps I wasn't clear when I told you that I love my wife more than anything in this world.”

“You were clear. But perhaps I didn't care,” the man was bold, you'd give him that. And despite how rude he was being he still walked further into the home, taking off the large ornate hat he was wearing and letting you finally see how beautiful his silky, indigo hair was.

Childe followed soon after and the two of them went to talk. You could already tell that he wasn't completely friendly with this coworker, out of the many you'd met. You knew more harbingers than the average person did in a lifetime, more than you wanted to as well, but this one was the first one you'd seen be blatantly disrespectful.

But as they sat and chatted amongst themselves about missions and quite honestly, things you didn't understand, your mind still thought about how underdressed the man was. There was no way Childe would let him stay overnight, not with the way he was acting and Snezhnaya only got colder when the sun was down. You didn't want to just send him out into the elements.

“Could you bring me a spare jacket, and maybe some snow pants and boots,” you asked a maid and she was quick to drop what she was doing to scurry off and find things for you. In less than thirty minutes, everything was handed to you, neatly folded.

The meeting only lasted two hours and both Childe and his co-worker were leaving the office. You wondered if he ever got sick of scowling so much. Or if he ever even showed interest in anything at all.

Childe was walking faster than usual, probably trying to quickly get the man out of the house, but you stopped him, holding up the clothes that you'd acquired. The way both men looked at you made your heart sink to your ass, your orange haired husband had so much fury in his eyes from your kindness to the other, but didn't stop you.

“It's…it’s just cold out there,” you muttered, hoping that Childe would understand your explanation. He allowed the other man to take the clothes, a gentle smirk on his face.

Throughout the whole day, you'd never seen him with anything but his usual frown, you weren't even aware that he could smile, “Such thoughtfulness. I see why number eleven is interested in you,”

The door to the home was opened and the man ushered out. He was still holding the items you'd given him, not wearing them, but you didn't want to tell him to stop. Not while Ajax was looking at you so angrily. You didn't want to cause even more misunderstandings.

“Scaramouche,” he said while still walking out the door. You must've made a noise of confusion because he elaborated, “I'm called Scaramouche. And I'll see you soon.”

#mai<3 answers #🍓 anon #genshin #yandere genshin #genshin x reader #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere x you #yandere childe #yandere childe x reader #yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere scaramouche

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jaystardust · 4 months

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⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆ MY STUPID BIRTHDAY

Pairing: Park Sunghoon x reader

Genre: fluff, a bit of angst, childhood friends to enemies to lovers, apparition of Jake, Sunoo, Jungwon and Minji (nwjns)

Warnings: slight humiliation, mention of food (tell me if I forget something)

Summary: in a world where every day counts, some days stand out more than others. for y/n, that day is her birthday, a day she shares with her best friend Sunghoon. but at their joint 16th stupid birthday celebration, an incident fractures their friendship

Words count: 3,9K

A/N : it's my first time posting a fic here, i had this idea popping into my head and decided to write something, idk if I will continue to write others in the future but I had so much fun writing this !! i hope you will enjoy it ( I don't really know if it is good or no tbh 😭😭), don't hesitate to give me some feedback or request something 💗

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365 days a year, sometimes even 366 days…you can say it's a lot.

Of all the days in the year, you chose your favorite. Some people like to choose Christmas or Halloween, while others prefer to be original and choose the day when the cherry trees blossom or the first snow falls. But you preferred to keep it classic, a day that might be banal for some, or cliché for others because your favorite day of all was your birthday.

What made this day so magical for you was the fact that you had the chance to share this date, so exceptional in your eyes, with your best friend Sunghoon. And that's why you became friends.

Sunghoon had come into your life at elementary school, arriving in the middle of the year and looking very shy. You remembered his arrival so well because he came to class on your so-called birthday, your 7th to be exact. On that day, your mother had baked your favorite cake, so you could share it with your classmates and blow out your candles, knowing that this day was so special to you.

When the cake arrived, you noticed the sparkle in the new kids's chocolate orbs. Curious to know if he shared your taste in pastries, you asked him if he was looking forward to tasting it. "Do you like strawberry shortcake cake too? They are my favorite!", the boy who seemed so silent didn't answer at the time and just looked at you. Surprised by his reaction, you tilted your head to one side and wondered why he didn't answer.

Ignoring the boy's attitude, you took his hand in yours and led him to the cake. “You can blow out my candles with me if you like!”, at the sound of such a friendly proposal, an expression you couldn't quite determine formed on Sunghoon's face, and his cheeks took on a crimson hue.

Not understanding his reaction once again, you thought he didn't want to. “Oh, you don't like birthdays?”. The young brunet lifted his head and shook it vigorously, at which point he answered in an almost inaudible voice, “No, no...I like birthdays. Today's my birthday too…”.

Hearing such a statement, you couldn't help but jump up and down with joy at the idea of sharing such a precious moment with your new friend. Sunghoon, on the other hand, couldn't help hiding his face, rather embarrassed by so much attention suddenly focused on him. Seeing him so shy and embarrassed, you took his hand so that he could be at your side. “Let's both make a wish and blow out our candles, okay?”. You offered him a smile that revealed the tooth you'd lost last week and closed your eyes before making your wish. While the boy's wish remained unknown, you wished that from now on you'd be able to spend every one of your birthdays by his side... a day so precious to you

From that moment on, you and Sunghoon became inseparable. Birthdays became a shared celebration, a tradition that solidified your bond year after year. But as you grew older, things began to change. The simplicity of childhood was replaced by the complexities of adolescence, and the once-easy friendship began to face challenges neither of you could have anticipated.

High school brought about a shift in your dynamic with Sunghoon. New friends, different interests, and the inevitable misunderstandings began to drive a wedge between you two. It was subtle at first, a missed text here, a skipped hangout there. But over time, the cracks widened until a full-blown argument erupted on the day of your joint 16th birthday.

It had been brewing for a while, the tension palpable. Sunghoon had become more withdrawn, focusing on his new friends, sports, and studies. The clash came over something trivial—an unfortunate event that happened during your birthday celebration.

At the long-awaited moment of blowing out your 16 candles, after wishing that things could work out between you and your best friend, Sunghoon had the wonderful idea of pushing your head into your birthday cake...in front of all the people who were invited. And what a shock it was to see one of his new friends named Jake laughing, holding up his phone to film the scene. “ Well done man! You nailed your bet, I didn't think you would!”.

After that, voices were raised, harsh words exchanged, and for the first time, you found yourself dreading your birthday. What a stupid birthday…

—

Years passed, and the distance between you and Sunghoon grew. From friends to enemies, it seemed. The shared birthday, once a symbol of your bond, now felt like a cruel reminder of what you had lost. Both of you were too stubborn to reach out, too hurt to mend the rift. So you ended your high school days this way.

College was supposed to be your fresh start, a new chapter free from the tangled mess of your high school drama. You had looked forward to it for years, dreaming of new experiences, new friendships, and the chance to redefine yourself away from the shadow of old wounds and betrayals.

The campus was everything you had hoped for—bustling with life, offering endless growth opportunities, and filled with the promise of adventure. But as fate would have it, the one person you wanted to leave behind, Sunghoon, was also here. Seeing him across the quad that first week sent a chill down your spine. Memories of your 16th birthday, the argument, and the subsequent Cold War came rushing back, tainting what should have been an exciting new beginning.

When your mutual friends first proposed the joint birthday party, you couldn't believe your ears. "It'll be just like old times," Sunoo said, completely unaware of the emotional landmine they had stepped on. Your heart sank. The idea of celebrating your birthday with Sunghoon felt like opening an old wound. The 16th birthday incident left a scar, a painful reminder of how someone you once trusted implicitly could hurt you so deeply.

Despite your protests, your friends were relentless. They saw the good memories, the fun, and the laughter from your shared celebrations. They remembered the duo that was inseparable and believed that one party could bridge the gap. To them, it seemed like a simple solution to rekindle a cherished tradition.

"Come on, it's just one night," Minji, your closest friend, pleaded. "You both deserve to have fun. It’ll be great, just like before."

You shook your head, frustration bubbling to the surface. "It's not that simple, Minji. There’s a lot you don’t understand."

Minji sighed, her expression softening. "I get that you two had a falling out, but it was so long ago. People change, y/n. Maybe Sunghoon isn’t the same person who did that...stupid thing."

"It's not just about the cake," you snapped, then took a deep breath to calm yourself. "It's everything that happened afterward. He just...he wasn't there for me. We were supposed to be best friends, and he let me down."

Jungwon, another friend who was also part of your mutual circle, chimed in. "Y/n, we're not asking you to be best friends again overnight. Just give it a chance.”

You looked at them, feeling the weight of their words but also the burden of your memories. "I don't know if I can handle it," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "What if things get worse?"

Minji put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "We've all seen how happy you two were back then. We just want to see you both happy again, even if it's just for one night. Can you try, for us?"

You hesitated, the memories of the laughter and joy you once shared with Sunghoon conflicting with the bitterness of your last encounter. The sincerity in your friends' eyes made it hard to refuse outright.

"Okay," you finally said, the word feeling heavy on your tongue. "I'll do it. But if things go south, I’m leaving. I can’t relive that nightmare."

Sunoo's face lit up with relief. "Thank you, y/n. We promise it’ll be worth it."

Jungwon grinned, giving you a thumbs up. "You won't regret it. We'll make sure it's an awesome party."

—

The first meeting to discuss party details was an exercise in tension. Sunghoon, once your shy and endearing best friend, now exuded an air of arrogance that made your blood boil. He walked into your living room with a confident swagger, greeting everyone casually, as if the years of animosity between you two didn’t exist.

"So, what's the plan?" Sunghoon asked, locking eyes with you for a moment. His gaze was steady, but you could see a flicker of something—regret, nostalgia?—before it vanished.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. "We need to decide on the venue, decorations, food, and the guest list," you replied, your tone clipped.

"Great, I was thinking we should go big," Sunghoon said, leaning back in his chair. "A large venue, lots of music, and a huge guest list. It’s our 21st birthday after all."

You scoffed, shaking your head. "Of course, you'd want that. I was thinking of something more intimate. Close friends, good food, a relaxed atmosphere."

Sunghoon smirked, his eyes challenging. "A small gathering? That’s boring, y/n. People want to have fun."

"Fun doesn't mean a circus," you shot back, your irritation evident.

Jake, sensing the rising tension, intervened. "Hey, why not meet in the middle? We can have a decent-sized venue but keep the guest list reasonable. And mix up the music so there’s something for everyone."

You and Sunghoon exchanged a reluctant glance, and to your surprise, he nodded. "Fine. That works for me."

You sighed, feeling a bit of the tension ease. "Okay. But I’m in charge of the decorations."

Sunghoon chuckled. "Deal. As long as I get to handle the music."

The rest of the meeting was a series of compromises. Despite the occasional bickering, you managed to make some progress. However, the tension from years of unresolved issues loomed over every decision, making even the simplest tasks feel burdensome.

—

One afternoon, after another heated argument over the party's theme, you found yourself alone in the library, trying to finalize the details. Memories of happier times with Sunghoon flooded your mind—his shy smile, the way he used to get excited about your shared birthdays, and the countless hours spent talking about everything and nothing.

You were lost in thought when Sunghoon walked in and sat across from you. "Look, I know we have our differences, but we need to make this work. For our friends," he said, his voice surprisingly sincere.

You sighed, nodding. "Yeah, you're right. Let’s just focus on making this a good party."

Sunghoon looked relieved, and for a moment, you saw a glimmer of the boy you once knew. "I remember how much you loved those fairy lights. Maybe we can use them for the decorations?"

You were taken aback by his suggestion. "You remember that?"

"Of course I do," he replied softly. "Those birthdays meant a lot to me too."

In the days that followed, you fell into an uneasy rhythm. Despite the bickering, there were moments when the old Sunghoon resurfaced. One morning, he brought you your favorite coffee, remembering your order perfectly.

"Here," he said, handing you the cup. "I figured you could use a break."

You took it, surprised. "Thanks."

Another time, he helped you with particularly tricky decorations. As you struggled with a set of lights, he appeared beside you, effortlessly untangling them.

"Let me help," he said, his voice gentle. "You always hated doing this alone."

These small gestures made you wonder if there was still something worth salvaging between you two. Could it be that beneath the layers of hurt and pride, the bond you once shared was still there, waiting to be rekindled?

—

Just as you began to hope for reconciliation, everything came crashing down. Walking past the student lounge one afternoon, you overheard Sunghoon talking to Jake. Their voices were casual, filled with the easy camaraderie of old friends, but what you heard made your blood run cold.

"Yeah, she's still unbearable," Sunghoon was saying. "I don't regret pushing her head into the cake at all. Honestly, I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

The words felt like a dagger to your heart. Any progress you thought you’d made, any hope for a rekindled friendship, shattered in an instant. You turned and walked away, not wanting to hear another word. The small gestures, the moments where you thought the old Sunghoon was resurfacing, all felt like lies. The betrayal was raw and overwhelming, stirring up all the old hurt and anger you had tried so hard to move past.

That evening, you decided to confront Sunghoon. The emotions you had kept bottled up were boiling over, and you needed to let them out.

“Sunghoon, I overheard what you said to Jake,” you began, your voice trembling with suppressed anger.

Sunghoon looked up, confusion and worry flashing across his face. “Y/n, what are you talking about?”

“You said I’m unbearable and that you’d push my head into a cake again,” you replied, each word laced with the pain of your resurfaced wounds. “I thought we could maybe get past what happened, but clearly, you haven’t changed at all.”

Sunghoon’s face fell, and for a moment, he looked like the boy you once knew, the boy who had been your best friend. “It’s not like that,” he started, his voice soft and pleading.

“I don’t want to hear it,” you snapped, cutting him off. The anger in your voice masked the hurt you felt. “We’ll go through with this party for our friends, but after that, I don’t want anything to do with you.”

Sunghoon’s shoulders slumped, and he took a step towards you, desperation in his eyes. “Y/n, please. Let me explain. It was a stupid joke. I didn’t mean it.”

You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes. “A joke? You think that’s funny? Humiliating me, and then saying you’d do it again? That’s not a joke, Sunghoon. That’s just cruel.”

“I was trying to fit in with the guys,” Sunghoon said, his voice breaking. “I didn’t mean any of it. I’ve been an idiot, but I don’t want to lose you again.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart ache, but the pain of his words was still too fresh. “You already lost me, Sunghoon,” you whispered. “A long time ago. And this just proves that you don’t care.”

Sunghoon reached out, but you stepped back, putting distance between you. “Y/n, please, don’t do this. We’ve come so far.”

You shook your head, feeling a mix of sadness and anger. “No, Sunghoon. You might think we’ve come far, but we’re right back where we started. I can’t keep doing this.”

With that, you turned and walked away, leaving Sunghoon standing there, looking lost and broken. The weight of your decision settled heavily on your shoulders, but you knew it was the right choice. You couldn’t keep reopening old wounds, hoping they’d heal. You needed to move forward, even if it meant leaving Sunghoon behind.

—

The rest of the preparations were a blur. You avoided Sunghoon as much as possible, communicating only when absolutely necessary. Every interaction was charged with tension, a constant reminder of the unresolved issues and the hurt still lingering between you. The memories of the overheard conversation haunted you, making it difficult to focus on anything else.

Despite the strained atmosphere, you channeled all your energy into making sure the party went off without a hitch. Your friends noticed the strain but chose to focus on the upcoming celebration, hoping the event would mend the rift.

The party was in full swing. Music blared, lights flashed, and people danced and laughed. You kept your distance from Sunghoon, mingling with friends and trying to enjoy yourself despite the heavy weight on your heart. The venue was beautifully decorated, with fairy lights casting a warm glow over the scene. Everyone seemed to be having a great time, but you couldn’t shake the hurt and betrayal lingering in your mind.

Minji caught you alone near the drinks table and pulled you aside. “Hey, how are you holding up?”

You forced a smile. “I’m fine. Just trying to get through the night.”

She gave you a sympathetic look. “I know things have been tough, but maybe tonight can be a fresh start?”

You sighed, looking over at Sunghoon who was laughing with some friends. “I don’t know, Minji. It’s hard to forget everything that happened.”

“I get it,” she said softly. “But I’ve seen how he looks at you. I think he genuinely wants to make things right.”

Before you could respond, someone called Minji away, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

As the night wore on, you found yourself on the balcony, staring out at the city lights. The cool night air did little to soothe your turmoil.

You heard footsteps behind you and turned to see Sunghoon approaching. He looked hesitant, his usual confidence replaced by a tentative vulnerability.

“Y/n..” he started, his voice soft. “Can we talk?”

You crossed your arms, trying to protect yourself from more hurt. “What is there to talk about, Sunghoon?”

He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been a jerk, and I know I hurt you. But you have to understand, Jake and I… we have a complicated relationship. I was just trying to impress him, but it was stupid, and I regret it.”

“Why should I believe you?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sunghoon sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Because,” he said, stepping closer, “I miss you. I miss us. And I know I’ve screwed up, but I want to make it right. Not just for tonight, but for good.”

You looked at him, searching his eyes for any hint of deceit. “You think just saying sorry will fix everything? You humiliated me, Sunghoon. You made me feel like I meant nothing to you.”

“I know,” he admitted, his eyes downcast. “I’ve been an idiot. I let Jake’s influence get to me, and I hurt the one person who mattered most. But I swear, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make it up to you.”

“Why now?” you demanded, your voice rising. “Why should I trust you now?”

“Because I’ve realized how much I’ve lost,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “And because I don’t want to lose you again. Not when we’ve been through so much. I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m asking for a chance to prove I’ve changed.”

Something in his voice, in his eyes, made you want to believe him. The sincerity, the vulnerability—it all felt genuine. And maybe, just maybe, you could find a way to forgive and start anew.

“Okay,” you said softly. “But this time, no more cake pushing.”

Sunghoon laughed, a genuine, warm laugh that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, things could be okay again. “Deal,” he said, offering his hand. “Let’s make a new wish together.”

As you shook his hand, you felt a spark of hope. You both walked back into the party, side by side, and your friends immediately noticed the change. Minji gave you an encouraging smile, and Jake looked pleasantly surprised. Their eyes seemed to convey a silent message of hope and reconciliation, urging you both to embrace this newfound chance at rebuilding your friendship.

Sunghoon led you to the table where the birthday cake sat, a beautifully decorated strawberry shortcake, just like the one from your childhood. The room quieted down as everyone gathered around, sensing the importance of the moment. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation, a tangible sense of possibility lingering in the air.

Sunghoon turned to you, his eyes soft with sincerity. “Ready to make a wish?”

You nodded, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement coursing through you. “Ready.”

Together, you both closed your eyes, allowing the weight of the past to momentarily fade into the background. At this moment, there was only the promise of a fresh start, a chance to mend what had been broken between you.

“On three?” Sunghoon asked, his voice a gentle reassurance.

You nodded again, a small smile playing on your lips. “One, two, three.”

You both blew out the candles in unison, the room erupting in cheers and applause. For the first time in years, you felt that familiar warmth of the bond you once shared, slowly but surely being rekindled. The collective joy of the moment washed over you, melting away the layers of resentment and hurt that had accumulated over time.

—

The night continued with laughter and joy, the tension of the past giving way to the lightness of the present. You found yourself by Sunghoon's side more often than not, the ease of your interactions reminiscent of the friendship you had once cherished.

As the hours passed, you found yourself engaged in heartfelt conversations, sharing memories and dreams with Sunghoon as if no time had passed at all. The barriers that had once divided you seemed to dissolve in the warmth of companionship, leaving behind a renewed sense of connection and understanding.

At one point, amidst the laughter and chatter, Sunghoon leaned in close to you, his voice a whisper in the bustling room. “I’m glad we had this chance, Y/N. I’ve missed you.”

You met his gaze, the sincerity in his eyes echoing the sentiment in your own heart. “I’ve missed you too, Sunghoon. Let’s not lose this again.”

He smiled, a genuine expression of warmth and affection. “We won’t.”

At that moment, surrounded by the people you cared about most, you knew that this was more than just a party—it was a celebration of forgiveness, of second chances, and of the enduring bond between friends. As you looked around at the smiling faces and heard the echoes of laughter filling the air, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the opportunity to rebuild what had once been lost.

And as the night drew to a close, and the last echoes of laughter faded into the night, you found yourselves standing alone in the quiet embrace of the moonlit balcony. The world seemed to hold its breath, anticipation hanging heavy in the air as you gazed into each other's eyes.

Without a word, Sunghoon reached out, his hand cupping your cheek with a tenderness that stole your breath away. And in that fleeting moment, with the stars as witness to your reunion, you leaned in, your lips meeting in a gentle kiss that spoke volumes of the love and forgiveness that had brought you back together.

Now, every day with Sunghoon, whether it’s 365 or 366, will be a reminder of the bond you share—a bond strong enough to weather any storm. As you melted into the warmth of his embrace, you couldn't help but reflect on the journey that had led you here, from the pain of this stupid birthday to the sweetness of this moment, where love and forgiveness triumphed over past hurts.

#sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen au #sunghoon imagines #fic tag #enhypen fluff #enhypen fanfiction #park sunghoon #enhypen angst #sunghoon angst

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mikufigureoftheday · 12 days

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I absolutely adore the anniversary strawberry Miku, but today I was wondering how many different strawberry themed Miku figures are out there

It really only seems to be that one and the Sweet Sweets Strawberry Shortcake design. She comes in two colors tho (･ω<)☆

it's also worth noting the Strawberry White Kimono one that doesn't really have anything to do with the fruit but its in the name so y'know

I wish there were more of them though that would be so cute ( ; ω ; )

#asks #compilation

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hyuuukais · 1 year

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✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡ SUNSHINE AND STRAWBERRIES

pairing ☆ lee felix x fem reader

synopsis ☆ Y/N is a new streamer. after months of planning, and her best friend & now fellow streamer han jisung convincing her, she makes a twitch and youtube account. thanks to jisung giving her a shoutout to his own huge following, she gains some unexpected overnight fame. but what was more unexpected was waking up to see her long-time favourite comfort streamer _sunshine.bbokari_ following her.

groups included ☆ skz, txt (yeonjun, huening kai), enhypen (jake), itzy (chaeryeong, ryujin)

notes ☆ this is my first smau! and my first skz fic! i'm both excited and nervous to post this. i really hope at least one person enjoys this! if i ever miss a warning or anything PLEASE don't hesitate to let me know!

[TAGLIST -> CLOSED]

MASTERLIST

Y/N & FRIENDS | FELIX & FRIENDS | OTHER CHARACTERS

CHAPTER ONE ☆ YNSSTRAWBERRYFIELDS

CHAPTER TWO ☆ THE POWER OF HAN JISUNG

CHAPTER THREE ☆ BOUND TO HAPPEN

CHAPTER FOUR ☆ DISTRACTIONS

CHAPTER FIVE ☆ R1S1NGSTARZ

CHAPTER SIX ☆ NEW CONNECTIONS

CHAPTER SEVEN ☆ PROMISE ME?

CHAPTER EIGHT ☆ CHEF DREAMS

CHAPTER NINE ☆ FAN ACCOUNTS

CHAPTER TEN ☆ THE STREAM

CHAPTER ELEVEN ☆ ROOMMATES

CHAPTER TWELVE ☆ DOUBLE BOOKED

CHAPTER THIRTEEN ☆ WHAT SPEECH?

CHAPTER FOURTEEN ☆ NOT YOUR BUSINESS

CHAPTER FIFTEEN ☆ THANK YOU

CHAPTER SIXTEEN ☆ CONFESSIONS

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN ☆ LISTEN UP GIRLS

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN ☆ STICKY SITUATION

CHAPTER NINETEEN ☆ GOING PUBLIC

CHAPTER TWENTY ☆ RECAP

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE ☆ MOVIE NIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO ☆ SLEPT THROUGH THE NIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE ☆ RAGE ROOM

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR ☆ TIME

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE ☆ DATE NIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX ☆ LOVE?

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN ☆ TIRED

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT ☆ T-REX

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE ☆ BREAK

CHAPTER THIRTY ☆ WAIT

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE ☆ LIKE A MOVIE

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO ☆ TOGETHER

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE ☆ INCOMING ANNOUNCEMENTS

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR ☆ MISSING YOU

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE ☆ COMING CLEAN

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX ☆ FIRST SNOW

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN ☆ REVISITING

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT ☆ MILESTONES

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE ☆ NEW BEGINNINGS

CHAPTER FOURTY ☆ LUCKY

#✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡ SUNSHINE AND STRAWBERRIES #skz smau #skz social media au #stray kids smau #skz #stray kids #smau #social media au #lee felix x reader #lee felix x fem reader #lee felix x yn #lee yonbok #lee felix #lee felix au #stray kids x reader #non idol au #streamer au #skz felix #stray kids felix

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strawberrynull · 5 months

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──౨ৎ 🍓null's masterlist

{Groups I write for ~ Enhypen, TxT, Straykids}

Enhypen

OT7 ──

౨ৎ what they would get you for v-day

౨ৎ first snow (enha ver)

౨ৎ seeing snow for the first time

౨ৎ after the fight

Lee Heeseung ──

none yet!!

Park Jongseong ──

none yet!!

Sim Jaeyun ──

౨ৎ cuddling positions

Park Sunghoon ──

none yet!!

Kim Sunoo ──

none yet!!

Yang Jungwon ──

none yet!!

Nishimura Riki ──

౨ৎ strawberry lip balm

౨ৎ cigarettes out the window

౨ৎ burn it down

౨ৎ cuddling with riki

౨ৎ new hallway crush

౨ৎ new noona

Tomorrow x Together

none yet!!

Straykids

none yet!!

taglist: @sharksandminhos

#enhypen #enha #kpop #txt #tomorrow x together #tubatu #skz #stray kids #strawberrynull #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #kpop x reader #txt x reader #skz x reader #straykids x reader

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hellowoolf · 9 months

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on strawberries and masonry: chapter i

series summary: you atone for your sins, now, in a jackson garden, learning to care for soft things and yourself. joel miller is a lethal sort of similar, and misery loves company

you live in jackson and meet joel and you’re both damaged little babies and fall in love (but i’m drawing this shit out🫶🫶)

warnings: angst, ANGST👈🏻👈🏻, reader has a violent past but we don’t get graphic about it yet, knives (at present we only use her for gardening), age gap (reader late 20s/early 30s, joel 50s), mention of masturbation (if i left out any, let me know!)

word count: 3.1k

authors note: i would consider myself a mildly experienced writer but this is my first ever fic! kindness is appreciated but so is constructive criticism. i really hope you enjoy🍓

by the way, a big ol thank you to @macfrog @netherfeildren @5oh5 @swiftispunk @bageldaddy (and others), whose fantastic writing gave me the courage to put this story to paper🫶

series masterlist | masterlist

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you don’t remember much about the little fruits, from the time that came before. you were only a child then, 8 when it all crumbled to pieces, and those small sweetnesses aren’t things you’re taught to notice when you’re that young. lemons and airplane engines and the neighbor’s dog; these you remember, what with all the ruckus they made, but berries and peaches were far too soft of creations to make an impression. you suppose to anyone who could see your life in full, it would seem ironic in a tragic sort of way that they were all you cared for now.

you like to ponder these things—torture, really—on your way to the garden in the morning. there’s something about the honesty of jackson air, the clarity of it at daybreak, that make such musings, painful as they are, the only bearable passtime. keeping your hands close to your sides inside your jacket, you let your fingertips brush against the knife stored there. maria had offered you gardening tools, things more fit for the work you did now, but you’d refused; this knife was your father’s once (if you were remembering correctly) and you wouldn’t let it rust over on your nightstand. you like to make use of things, things and people if you’re honest, and trimming plants and flowers and little fruits are no less noble uses for it than what you did before jackson.

the crunch of your boots beneath you whispers up as you trudge along. your house isn’t far from the garden, but ages, it feels, from everything else. you’d gone to the tipsy bison, once, within the first few weeks of moving in, convinced you were young and entitled to normalcy after what they’d collected you from on the outside. the scotch burned your throat in a cliche kind of way, and you suppose you enjoyed that part, but the walk alone in the dark on your way home was enough to keep you from the establishment since. you moved back and forth from your garden, the dining hall, and occasionally tommy’s house when you couldn’t bear the loneliness; these pathways you’d carved out for yourself here are few and stubborn, but you love them because they’re yours. the other young men and women your age in town, most of whom have lived the better part of their lives within these walls, don’t think of you enough to find you as strange as you perhaps are, but their not thinking is a comfort to you. the crunch crunch crunch of your boots on the gravel mumbles in agreement.

“speak of the devil.”

tommy is leaning against the glass of the greenhouse wall with noah when he calls it out to you, grounding you in place. you’d made it all the way to the garden in the time it took for that ugly contemplation, but the both of them are smiling with that back and forth glance only boyishness forgives, and now the morning is real. it’s cold enough that numbness has clawed its way up the bridge of your nose, the frost keeping last night’s snow frozen to the ground. it’s these moments, the arrivals to your garden at dawn, when the day comes to you. you like the both of them, noah and tommy. they make you feel like somebody’s sister. you turn up the ends of your mouth. “all bad things i hope.”

“awful, really,” noah chuckles, tugging on the arm of your jacket to pull you inside with tommy behind you, the both of them still smiling in conspiracy.

you begin to slip your arms out of your coat, laying it carefully against a wall, the wet warmth of the greenhouse rushing you immediately. you’d been heating the inside for a few weeks now, trying to maintain a healthy summer crop output despite the freezing soil, and a few of the sturdier vegetables had steadily been peeking their way up. you plucked a full radish from the dirt last week and nearly wept over it. you look back up at tommy and noah, standing shoulder to shoulder now in the aisle between the planter boxes to block your path forward, humming still with whatever tommy-and-noah-elation they’ve concocted. you tilt your head a little and smile.

“are you gonna make me guess? or can you just tell me?”

they confer with a nod and a jostle side to side, tommy turning back to you. “there’s a strawberry.”

your tongue unsticks from the roof of your mouth as something golden and beautiful unfolds inside of you. “there isn’t,” you counter. noah turns himself sideways so you can walk through the aisle to the end of the left planter box and you rush there (you’re rarely frantic, nowadays, but you allow this sort of thing for your little fruits).

maria had placed you here in the garden as a safeguard. she thought you dangerous (and you were, at least back when you met her), so she put you to work where your hands could do good and be far from people. it helped, you guessed, that the greenhouse is made of glass; she could keep an eye on you this way. and oh, how you’d resisted it, the softness of a gardener’s job. in the end, though, the black and grime of life left as residue on your palms felt like forgiveness, and you’d taken quickly to thinking yourself a botanist.

by the time you arrive at the end of the left planter box, on your knees like a worshiper at a pew, you’re eye level with the little poetry of red and green parting the soil you’d scooped by hand last month. tommy and noah, you feel, are behind you as your shadow casts itself over the soil, and you almost have to pull the thing out just to bear this feeling. there’s a strawberry. and you actually say it out loud, softer than anything but wild, still, and staring at the child of plant and earth you’d nursed to color. noah and tommy drop to your sides, and you notice then that the three of you are crying, and you laugh and laugh over the little thing like madness and sweetness and pride.

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the euphoria of your strawberry lasts you well into the late afternoon. tommy and noah had left you to bask in the glory of it to continue with construction on a little post office right off the main road, and you worked the morning with your thumbs in the dirt, slicing browning leaves off the budding plants with as much gentleness as you could muster. you look down at your knife, cradled close in the cup of your palm, to finger out the soil packed through the engraving along the handle. a last name meant nothing anymore, what with your loneliness and the end of the world, but still the slopes of it peer up at you; you watched your father make the engraving, you think, though the actual memory of it is lost to time.

by the time you reach the beets at the end of the right planter box, a commotion has stirred outside. men’s voices ring and rumble from the main road, and the bass of it hums under your knees on the ground. a great bark of tommy reaches you clearly, even tucked away as your greenhouse is, and curiosity consumes you enough to resign from your garden for the day. these days you are quiet, and reserved, sometimes frightening because you like how it feels, but still curious, always curious, and so you curl yourself back into your jacket to join whatever audience has congregated by the front gates.

he is beautiful in a holy sort of way, whoever he is. you come upon tommy wrapped up in a great big stranger, a horse and a young girl behind him, and the slopes of his nose bend the waning sunlight off into a ribbon of a beam. jesus, when was the last time you’d looked at someone this way? tommy pulls back from him, glassy eyed and awestruck, looking around at those who’d crowded the scene almost incredulously, but you stare still at his stranger, who is so broad and so timid and so clearly unused to his own timidness that you can’t pull your eyes away. he meets your gaze for a moment, as he sweeps his own across the crowd, and looks at you with about as much detachment as he does the rest of this spectatorship. but oh god, he is so divinely pretty, and so you can forgive his lack of immediate fascination with you.

tommy begins walking his stranger and his stranger’s small companion through the throng, introducing and shaking hands, and as you watch them slowly shuffle towards you, you are struck with the thought that this is tommy’s brother. as he shifts his face along the axis of his shoulders, taking in the town, you see more and more of tommy in the motion of his stranger’s face. you’re sure of it now, as tommy calls your name and shepherds the man in front of you.

“my brother here’as decided to make a grand entrance!” tommy says, slapping a mittened hand across his back. you shake his stranger’s hand and give him your name, hoping your little smile doesn’t give away how awful it felt for him to look this way.

“joel,” he musters (and it really does seem like it takes a mustering), and gives your hand a firm shake before stuffing them back in his pockets. he is disinterested, surely, but afraid, too. it almost hurts you how clear his prevailing apprehension is, and you nearly make to apologize for forcing him to introduce himself. his eyes squint in the golden light cast over jackson.

“i work in the greenhouse, a few blocks from here on the edge of the settlement,” you explain, eyes drifting between joel and his little shadow, who both joel and tommy have yet to introduce. she looks a little feral, and this endears you immediately to her. “welcome in,” you offer, and you do your best to direct this message to her from around joel’s shoulder. her eyes are so big for a thing so ferocious (and you are certain she is) and they widen further at your acknowledgment of her.

“we won’t be here for long,” joel grumbles out and you straighten back up. he says it like you’ve offended him, and you bristle a little. tommy’s beautiful stranger is very guarded, you decide. regardless, the width of him, from left to right, blocks the mountain range behind him, and the patchy scruff along his jaw makes you die a little death.

“alright, well,” you start to back away then, feeling increasingly overwhelmed by his face and his broadness and this little girl who looks and moves like you used to, “you know where to find me,” and you nod a little to tommy before turning and walking away. you lasted all but five seconds in front of him, relishing in how little you were in his shadow cast upon you and loving whatever creature the girl he brought with him was, but all the same he looked too tired and cautious and vicious that it suffocated you. he wouldn’t be here for long, apparently; you’ll likely never see him again. as you step towards your little house, you figure it was worth the meeting, if for nothing else than a face to keep you company in the dark when you’re a woman and alone, and a real image to pair with the descriptions tommy gave of a brother who loved him once.

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for a while, it seemed you really wouldn’t see joel again. you watched, through your greenhouse walls, the great expanse of him ride out with the girl, and you were left with the comfort of knowing how gorgeous you found him and that you would never have to speak with him again. you warded off your own psychoanalysis of your relief at his faraway-ness in the face of your immediate physical attraction to him, and sunk your fingers again in the soil.

but then he had returned. what with how consoled you felt at his leaving, he almost had to; fate was funny this way. but you figure, still, you needn’t disturb yourself with him. you imagined he’d keep to himself with how unspeaking he was when you first met him, and other than crossing his path every once in a while, leaving tommy’s house or marching himself along somewhere or other, you were right.

you think of him at night, though. in the morning you wake up with the shame and hilarity of it, of this lusting over a man you neither know nor want to know, but past midnight in your bed you let your fingers slip over yourself thinking of how small he’d made you feel. the wanting of him strikes you somewhere between your shoulder blades, and you blame it entirely on how long it had been since you shared your bed with anyone. strictly physical, strictly physical. you’d learned again to care for yourself these years in jackson, and you’d wrought kinship from tommy and noah without realizing it, but in all you attend mostly to flora, and in this you are protected. yes, joel keeps to himself as you surmised he would, but you avoid him, too; to want him in this way, all hands and hips and somewhere within you, is harmless, you determine, so long as he stays tommy’s stranger. he could never be anything or anyone to you.

it’s six weeks or so of joel’s continued disinterest in you, and your insistent avoidance of him (barring the way you touched yourself at night to his face), before a knock at your door past sunset brings you out of bed. people rarely appear at your doorstep, though you imagine it’s noah dropping off seeds found on patrol, or tommy with a similar sort of package, or even ellie, joel’s little creature, who’d spoken all but five words to you about your garden, but all the same materialized rather often there to see the colors of your little fruits. but when maria blinks back at you when you open the door, any semblance of a greeting dies in the back of your throat.

“can i come in?” maria asks, although she’s already leaning her shoulder towards the gap between your body and the doorway. you step aside to let her through. it occurs to you that maria has never visited you in your home before, not in your five years in jackson, and when she turns back to you, back pressed against your kitchen counter, it’s clear she’s just had the same thought. the way she crosses her arms over her chest, the authority of it and the terror, too, beckons you toward her from your place at the threshold.

“is everything okay?” you sigh out as you prop your hip against the adjacent table top. she is inspecting you, but smiles.

“yeah, yeah.” one of you sniffs. you shift your weight. “i came to see what you thought of joel.”

you almost laugh then, really laugh. “i don’t think anything of joel.”

she rolls this answer around behind her teeth. “mhm,” and then this time with finality, “mhm”.

you inspect her, now. “you don’t want him here.” it isn’t a question.

maria hums. “tommy wants him here.”

“that isn’t what i said.”

she purses her lips a moment. “yeah, i know.”

and you’re making the moment torturous for her, you’re certain, because you know why she’s come to you, why she’s standing in your kitchen like the elected leader she is, while something awful, something almost like alarm, leaks from the back of her neck onto your floorboards. you’d come to jackson a wild thing and she’d tamed you, and now you lived as a dirt woman who sunk her dagger into earth and green and life more permanent than humanity. she is proud of this, you think. and joel came as much of the same, with red hands that opened dripping, and maria needs him watched now the same way she watched you through your garden’s glass. you sigh again.

“what do you want me to do, maria? anything i’d say to tommy would be infinitely more effective from you.”

maria nods. “i don’t want you to say anything to tommy. i can live with joel in jackson. but he’s insisting on patrol, and i don’t know who else to put with him.”

your jaw seizes, and the heat of anger spreads itself along your neck and around your ears. you remember when you’d pleaded so kindly, crouching to make yourself smaller, hands collapsed together, begging to be useful, to be put outside, to protect jackson like it was yours. maria was as honest with you then as she is now, and she’d cited your instability (the reality of which is neither here nor there) to keep you off the rounds. you’d told tommy maria envisioned your actions before jackson as far more unforgivable than they were, though you knew that was a lie before you opened your mouth to say it. “patrol?”

she looks so solemnly at you you think you might die right there between your kitchen and the staircase. “yeah. i want you to be his patrol partner. i’m not looking to send him out there with a gun strapped to his back with one of the other gu-”

“and why does it have to be me?” and you’re really angry, now. for your unyielding quiet in this jackson existence you’d sewn together and the little strawberry you’d grown from nothing, still, still, you were at most and at least a violence. “why can’t you assign someone else?”

maria has this answer constructed already, it seems, for how fast she releases it, “because you’ll kill him.”

“noah would, if he had to. and leila. i can think of at least fi-”

“i’m not saying you would kill him. i’m saying you could.”

and suddenly you were again a wasp or spider, poisonous and unthinking, and the weight of the killing you did before jackson, which you had halfway successfully ignored to piece yourself into something good, perched its chin on the crown of your head. your father’s knife, laying up next to your bed after what was now years of tending to vegetables and stalks and leaves, howled with laughter, and it carried down the stairs to you like wind in summer, leadened and screaming and satisfied.

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i hope you enjoyed this first part! like i said in my authors note, this is my first time writing a piece like this and certainly my first time posting it, so kindness is much appreciated, as is constructive criticism. part 2 coming (hopefully) soon🍓

update: chapter ii!!

#joel miller fic #joel miller #tlou #the last of us #fem!reader #teehee #jackson!joel #on strawberries and masonry

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