#I didn’t add her pretty hair shine

[owlfacenightkit]

Cleaned up another Calamity Crew AU doodle

[lovelyjj]

you can use any prompts but can u do reader and jj breaking up, mostly because he can't communicate well and he's to reckless ( maybe you could add something we're he flirts with other girls at bonfires when he's drunk) and she's not all for that ecspecially since they are starting to get older

Break Up

jj maybank x reader

wc: 1.1k

I chose “don’t do this” and “we’re done” from this prompt list! i’m still accepting requests!

warnings: kinda mean jj

a/n: sorry if this sucks

(not my gif)

“JJ I can’t keep doing this,” you voiced.

“Doing what?” JJ asked.

“Putting up with your bullshit,” you responded.

“My bullshit,” JJ laughed.

“Yeah your pulling guns on people bullshit. Stealing from drug dealers, and being reckless.”

“I’m not reckless I’m perfectly fine.”

“JJ, don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

“Don’t do this,” JJ begged.

“You know what whatever i’m leaving.” You stormed out.

You were trying to break up with JJ but you just couldn’t do it. You don’t know if it was his blue eyes looking into your soul or his sad face but you just couldn’t do it. You were putting it off.

——————

The bonfire was electrifying. People were drinking and dancing, and talking it was wild. You we’re having a good time with your friends.

JJ was on his third beer and he wasn’t planning on stoping anytime soon. It was safe to say he was a little drunk. He enjoyed drinking and being drunk, it made everything easier. He could just forget all his problems and let loose.

JJ saw a group of girls by the fire and decided to go up to them. He had liquid courage, therefore went up to them pretty confident.

“Hi ladies,” he spoke.

A tall blonde in a short black dress smiled at him and said “Hello, your JJ Maybank right?”

“Yeah that’s me,” JJ gave her a goofy grin.

“I’ve heard about you.”

“Oh yeah and what have you heard?” JJ asked.

“That your a handsome guy who knows how to have a good time,” she smirked.

“Sounds about right.”

“You have a beautiful smile,” JJ laid on the charm.

JJ continued to flirt with the blonde as he drunkenly slurred compliments at her.

“Don’t look now,” Kiara warned.

“What?” you turned around and saw what she was referring to.

There was JJ in all his glory stroking hair out of some random girls face. You were livid. How dare he in his drunken state think to hit on other girls.

You were about to walk over there when something stopped you. Kiara put a hand on your shoulder holding you back from leaving.

“Are you sure you want to do this now?” she asked.

“Yeah I’m sure.”

You marched up to JJ and demanded answers. You tapped him on his shoulder and he turned around all wide eyed.

“Listen Maybank I don’t know who you think you are, flirting with other girls right in front of my face, but you got another thing coming.”

You were getting older and you didn’t have time for all these games.

“Y/N?” He slurred.

“Yep.”

“I was just talking to some friends, no harm in that right?” JJ asked.

“Wrong. You’re being disloyal and unfaithful,” you hissed.

“How do you know? I’m just having fun.”

“Right well JJ i’m so tired SO tired of having to deal with this!”

“Then go away,” JJ casted you a unimpressed look.

“Maybe I will,” you shouted.

“Go, nobodies stoping you.”

You were pissed at JJ. He was acting like a child. You were not gonna control him, if he wanted to act like that you were gonna let him. But you couldn’t promise you will be by his side through it all.

———————

The day was bright and sunny. The sky holding the sun as it shined on you.

JJ walked into the château littered in bruises on his face. He was dreading the encounter with you because he didn’t want to worry you.

You were sat on the couch with the other pogues when JJ walked in.

“Hey J- Woah what happened? Are you ok?” You were frantic and scared for your boyfriend.

“Relax I’m fine. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“JJ you have- you’re not gonna give me a explanation,” you sighed.

“I said I don’t want to talk about it,” JJ said through gritted teeth.

“Ya know I would really love it if you could communicate with me sometime,” you frowned.

“Yeah well we don’t always get what we want,” JJ smiled rudely.

“Why are you acting like this?”

“Suck it up princess.”

You pushed pass JJ going going out the door and onto the porch. You didn’t know what has gotten into JJ but you hated it.

——————

You and JJ weren’t on the same page. Everything seem to be crashing down. It was a disaster. JJ wasn’t communicating to you at all. All he did was blow you off and dance around your questions.

You stormed up to the château where JJ was currently staying and wanted to talk.

JJ came stumbling outside when he herd your knock and shouting. He wasn’t impressed but he showed up none the less.

“I need to talk to you,” you started off.

“You want to do this here?” JJ questioned.

You sighed, “works for me.”

“Ok what do you need to talk about,” JJ cringed he hated talking.

“I think you know,” you moved your lips inside your mouth forming a line without showing your lips.

“I don’t.”

“Ok well I think we need to have a conversation about us.”

“Which entails…”

“JJ…”

“What? You wanted to talk so let’s talk,” he gritted his teeth.

“Ok look this isn’t working. You don’t treat me right and i’m tired of it.”

“So you’re breaking up with me,” JJ put his tongue to his cheek.

“Yeah I guess I am.”

“I can change,” JJ’s voice broke.

“No JJ I don’t think you can.”

“Please give me another chance,” JJ begged.

“You don’t talk to me, your reckless and you flirt with other girls, I can’t handle it. how am I suppose to compete with them?”

“Sorry I’ve been such a shitty boyfriend.” JJ apologized.

“Well you should of thought about that before.”

“I know I don’t deserve it but if you could find it in your heart to forgive me and make this work, I would be eternally grateful,” JJ expressed with a sense of urgency.

“We’re done.”

“Y/N…”

“Goodbye JJ.”

You turned around to walk away and since you weren’t facing JJ you let a tear slip down your cheek. You didn’t want to do what you just did but you had to. JJ was hurting you, hurting your heart and you couldn’t stand it any longer. You loved him more than anything and not being with him was going to be a challenge.

JJ was your first real love. He was your person for so long until he started being careless and irresponsible. On top of that he didn’t communicate his feelings or give you any idea to what he was thinking which drove you mad.

JJ had his flaws but you loved him desperately regardless. You just couldn’t let him hurt you anymore as much as it hurt you to break up with him. So, as the tears streamed down your cheeks and with a heavy heart you said your last goodbye to JJ.

[cameronspecial]

Need the rafe and reader locked up in a room 🙏

Don't Stain The Carpet

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Swearing and Heated Make Out

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.1K

Masterlist

Topper and Kece were sick of the fighting. It was happening all day, every day now and they just wanted it to stop. They might even prefer the days when the two would be caught in a heated makeout session instead of an argument. So, they devised a plan to get the exes on a more cordial playing field. “Dude, I don’t know what’s wrong with it. One moment it’s running fine. The next, it won’t start,” Topper complains, leading Rafe down to the basement. The other boy grumbles, “Yeah, yeah. Just show me where your laptop is. I don’t know why you called me for it. I’m not fucking IT support.” Topper throws him a sheepish smile over his shoulder. “But you are good with computers.” Rafe rolls his eyes, “Stop being a kiss ass. I’m already here.” 

Once at the bottom of the stairs, Topper shuts up and steps out of the way so Rafe can pass through first. The tall man thinks nothing of it and enters the finished basement; however, when he is face to face with his ex-girlfriend, suspicion overcomes him. It is too late though because as he turns to leave the room and ream Topper out for this setup, the door is locked behind him. He rushes to the door, trying to open it even though he knows it is locked. “Topper, you little shit. Open this door.” He is met with silence, so he steps away from it and turns toward Y/N. “What are you doing here?” he questions. 

She rolls her eyes, “Top said he needed help picking out a gift for his mom. Why are you here?” They both know they have been lied to. It’s obviously from the fact that a laptop isn’t in sight and two separate reasons as to why they are there. 

He glares at her. “Oh, you know, Top said I could meet the Queen of England so I thought wow, I gotta get there. Why does it fucking matter? It was a lie.” She scoffs, “See, that. That is why I broke up with you.” He chuckles and runs his hands through his hair. “One. The breakup was mutual. Two. What. What is the reason you ‘broke up’ with me.” She holds out her hand and motions up and down, “Because you are an ass. That’s why. You only care for yourself and that’s it.” 

“Oh, please. We both know that isn’t fucking true.” 

“Right, sorry. I forgot about drugs and alcohol. Those might be pretty high up your list.” 

“STOP PUTTING WORDS IN MY MOUTH!”

His yell has her flinching back and he takes a deep breath while running his hand down his face “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled.” Her arms cross and she stands straighter. “You shouldn’t have,” she chastises. “Look, just because we are locked in here together doesn’t mean we have to talk to each other. I’ll go see if a call can get through. I mean we really should’ve seen this coming. His basement doesn’t get any signals.” 

With her final mutterance, she storms away from him. Her back hits against the wall and she slides down it. He observes as she pulls her phone out, hearing the familiar music of the cat game she enjoys playing sounds through the room. He smiles at the memory of her turning onto her stomach after an eventful night of love-making to play the game. He would always make fun of her and then rest his chin on her shoulder to watch her play over her shoulder. She used to get so excited when she would find the cat she was looking for. A crease in her forehead forms and he laughs. The noise has her staring at him over her phone. “What?” His hand extends toward her hand, “Didn’t get the cat you wanted?” her gaze flicks down to her phone with a frown. God, she hates how much he knows her. “Yes,” she whispers, slouching in embarrassment. 

Silence occurs on them. He shuffles over to the couch and decides to stroll down memory lane. His thumb swipes through the pictures. Her smile is so bright in this one and the sun hits her just right so it adds an extra shine to her eyes. He should’ve deleted all their pictures together when they broke up but he couldn’t bring himself to delete them. So he hid them away in a folder and promised to never look at them again. He hates that a distance has grown between them. He has to fix it.

“The only thing I ever cared about other than myself is you,” he mumbles. “Hmm,” she sounds out, not looking up from her phone. He clears his throat, “I cared- I mean I still care about you. Maybe even more than I care about myself.” He takes a second to think about it. “Actually. I definitely care about you more than myself.” The tone shifts in her room and she puts her phone down. He heads over to her, settling on the floor beside her. She looks him in the eyes and her vision has blurred. “Then why weren’t you there? You promised you would be after all the other things you skipped. The worst thing was that you wouldn’t tell me where you were.” He bites the corner of his lip and reaches into his pocket for his keys. He grows through his keys and holds them out to her, “I was out getting this. I didn’t want to spoil the surprise.” She takes the key ring into her hands and a shiny diamond stares back at her. “You were buying me a ring,” she murmurs. He nods, “I wanted to marry you and I know that this wouldn’t have made up for all the other things I missed, but I was hoping it would show you that I was committed to being with you.”

Everything she has felt for him for as long as she has known him comes cropping up and she takes a chance. “Do you still want to marry me?” she questions. His hand rests on her cheek, “More than anything else in the world.” She grins at him with tears leaking out of her eyes. “Then let's get married.” She presses their lips together and swings her leg over him. His fingers lace through her hair, pulling her in closer than possible. As she begins to grind down into him, a loud crash comes from behind him. “I wanted this to work. However, I didn’t want this to work this well,” Topper gripes. Rafe’s eyes narrow at him. “Get out,” Rafe growls at Kelce and Topper, who are standing in the doorway with wide eyes. Kelce and Topper look at each other with a nod. Topper grabs the doorknob and pulls the door closed. “Don’t stain the carpet!” Topper’s voice pleads through the door, causing the newly reunited couple to laugh together.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

[startanewdream]

Jily, kinktober, praise kink, and a surprisingly mild nsfw fic.

Lily is laughing.

The sound is not new to James; when they were just friends, he'd make a fool of himself to earn that laugh, and now that they've started dating, the sound greets him guiltlessly. He loves when Lily laughs because of the way her eyes shine and her cheeks colour.

But she is not laughing because of him at the moment.

It’s not that he demands exclusivity; if she is happy, that’s all that matters, but... but the source of her happiness is wagging his tail as he runs back to her, proudly holding the tennis ball that Lily had thrown a good distance.

And Lily, who knows exactly the secrets of this black dog, just kneels when Padfoot reaches her.

"Who is a good boy?" She coes, rubbing his ears. The dog barks loud and Lily laughs, delighted. "Who is the best boy?"

She holds the dog's face; James sees her fingers threading through the dark fur, not very unlike how she run her hand through his hair last night as he went down on her--

Only he didn’t get called a good boy.

And all Sirius got her was a stupid tennis ball.

He scowls. The dog looks at him for a moment, with far more intelligence than any mongrel should have, and then lies on the ground, belly up, whining; suggestive. Maybe James should pout more, because this strategy clear works for the dog: Lily kneels, rubbing the dog's belly; Padfoot is drooling.

"Who is a good boy?" A bark. People around them are chuckling. "You are, yes, you are a good boy!"

The dog licks her face; James buries his nails on the palm of his hands to keep from hexing the dog.

"Oh, you are not a good boy now!" But Lily's voice is playful.

James decides he's had enough. "He just needs to be neutered," he notes dryly. The dog growls at him. "Go play fetch," he says, and throws the tennis ball far away. When the dog just stares at him, James adds challengingly, "A real good boy would catch it."

As he expected, Padfoot rises at this, and very dignifiedly, runs through the grounds. A few people stop to watch the dog.

"Stags are more impressive," he mumbles. If only he could transform now, everyone would see it...

Lily wraps her arm on his. "Maybe we could have a dog."

"I am more of a cat person."

"Since when?"

Since seeing you with a dog made me insanely jealous. "Cats aren’t good boys."

"Oh." She turns to him now, with a smirk sprouting on her pink lips, and James almost wishes she couldn’t see through him so easily. "No one ever accused James Potter of being a good boy."

Her finger traces his arm, leaving goosebumps on its path.

"There’s always a first time for everything," he whispers, taking a step closer.

Lily's hand now circle James' neck befire she holds it softly. "A good boy would wear a collar."

"I would look dashing with a collar."

"A good boy would obey every order."

"Hmmm. I could be a good boy."

"You never saw an order you didn’t want to break, James."

"Maybe I just need some positive reinforcement, Lily."

"Hmmm," she sighs back. "I could offer enough praise. Add some treats." She throws a quick glance around. "Do you really want that ball back?"

"The dog can keep it."

"Good." She offers her hand. "Let’s go see how much of a good boy you are."

He is pretty sure he might howl if she asks.

[ninzied]

sunshine

a childhood enemies to lovers au. 500 word drabble for @hgejfmw-hgejhsf.

“I don’t know, Bug.”

He’s exhausted as hell from the flight home after a grueling finals week. He doesn’t want to make small talk with people he grew up with only to spend the last four years seeing how much they grew apart. It’s pretty much the worst thing he can think of right—

June says, too-casually, “Henry will be there.”

Scratch that. It just got even worse.

Obviously Alex has to go, now.

He hasn’t seen Henry since halfway through middle school, when the Fox family moved out of state. Mister fancy-pants “Oh, I’m on the cul-de-sac” Henry, who always had the cooler bikes, and out-sold Alex at every Girl Scout thing they went to with their sisters. Henry, who was good at everything and got along with everyone. Everyone, that is, except for Alex.

Henry, who’d stayed friends with Pez down the street, is exactly how Alex remembered but worse. He’s too fucking tall. His shoulders are so broad they’re borderline ridiculous. He—

“Alex.”

Fuck. His voice got even deeper. Fuck. Alex scowls.

“Charming as ever,” Henry remarks. At a pointed glance from Pez, he clears his throat, then adds, “Taller, though. Unless we’re speaking relatively, in which case—”

Is this guy for fucking real?

Alex opens his mouth.

“Henry’s the same, though, right, baby brother?” June butts in. “Remember that camp photo? The one where you said he looked like sunshine?”

“Can you not?” Alex objects. “Like he thinks the sun shines out of his ass, is what I said.”

“No,” says June, “I don’t think that was it.” She turns to Henry. “Pretty sure he kept it, by the way.”

“June,” hisses Alex. “How do you even know about that?”

Henry’s blushing. The stupid sun is in his hair again and he looks so unfairly fucking pretty that Alex wants to— wait. What?

Oh. Alex kind of forgets to breathe for a moment. Oh.

“Right, we’ll leave you to it,” says Pez. He takes June by the arm.

Henry shifts. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I was always too panicked by your evident dislike of me to not act like a total knob when you were around. Suppose that hasn’t changed either.”

Alex swallows. “I never disliked you. I just. Always figured you thought you were too good to hang out with me.”

“My gran did think that,” Henry admits, looking sad. “She was very strict.”

Alex remembers the general shape of her, a grim shadow in the curtain whenever he rode his bike too-close to their cul-de-sac. “Was?”

“She doesn’t get a say anymore.” Henry looks at him. “Does that, erm. Mean you wanted to? Hang out?”

“Did you?” Alex counters.

If Henry had pigtails, Alex could’ve pulled those and not been more fucking obvious.

“Yes,” says Henry, simply. “Perhaps we could start now? Make up for lost time?”

“For the record,” says Alex, “I really, really didn’t dislike you.”

Henry’s flush deepens. He’s smiling. Fuck. “For the record,” he says, “I kept that photo, too.”

[delusionaldeadgirl]

I’d Bleed Myself Dry For You

Spencer Reid x Famous Singer!reader

Summary: Spencer’s ex is a famous singer. Penelope’s favorite to be exact. After what happened to Maeve, Spencer didn’t share his love life. The team finds out after the fact.

Warnings: Sad, Use of Y/N

Excitedly, Penelope runs out of her “lair” up to Derek with her laptop. Seeing as though there weren’t any cases, the team was just doing paperwork at the BAU.

“Woah slow down Baby Girl. What’s going on?” Derek asked. “ONLY MY FAVORITE SINGER Y/N LIVE-STREAMING HER DC SHOW!”

Spencer’s ears perked up at the name. No one knew their history. He didn’t want to seem suspicious at the mention of her so he just went back to what he was doing.

Penelope opened up her laptop. The lights of the venue twinkled like stars. Almost as if they were shining on her through the screen. She knew every one of Y/N’s songs, everything about her, except her past shared life with their very own Boy Genius.

As the music began, Penelope leaned closer to the screen, her heart racing. The first few songs flew by as the crowd was loud with excitement. But when Y/N introduced a new track, an immediate hush fell over the audience.

“This next song is about love and loss, and how the memories still linger”. By now Derek, Emily and JJ had all surrounded Penelope’s laptop. As the music started, Spencer couldn’t help but look up from his work to listen to Y/N’s song. As soon as it started playing he noticed he didn’t recognize it. Which isn’t common given his eidetic memory.

“Pull the plug in September”

“I don’t wanna die in June”

As the song went on, those around couldn’t help but be captivated by her performance. Even Spencer. What really captured their attention was soon, on a screen behind Y/N, home videos began to play.

“And the funny thing is I would’ve married you if you had stuck around”

Y/N sang with tears in her eyes.

In the series of clips, moments unfolded—sunlit days in the park, laughter over coffee, and momentary glimpses of a tall figure with curly brown hair. The hand on Y/N’s shoulder, the way he fit in frame. Penelope recognized those slightly awkward mannerisms anywhere.

“Wait is that…?” She whispered, shifting her eyes to look at Derek. “What’s going on?” he asked as he noticed her shift in demeanor, JJ noticing as well.

“That’s Spencer! It has to be!” She whispered, not very quietly. Emily leaned closer to the screen, piecing it together. “So that’s why he gets quiet when we bring up his love life” She said.

Spencer unbeknownst to what they were saying was entranced by the sound coming out of Penelope’s speakers. The marriage lyric hitting the hardest. He knew she was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He let his traumas and doubts get in the way of what for the first time ever, felt like true love.

As the song continued, the lyrics tugged at Spencer’s heart. It was clear that this song was about a love that slipped away, a love that still held weight. Their love, she missed him as much as he missed her. He felt so stupid.

“I had no choice in the matter. Why would I? It’s only the death of me”

The final lines washed over them like a wave, and when the applause erupted from the audience, Penelope sat back breathless. “I can’t believe this. How could he keep this from us?”

Spencer rushed out of the bullpen. Derek crossed his arms, “Looks like Pretty Boy has some explaining to do”.

Penelope nodded, sympathy settling in her chest. “We need to make sure he knows we’re here for him.” JJ added.

“Very true. However I am rooting on getting them back together” Penelope said.

They all share a giggle at a classic Penelope anecdote, wondering how Spencer is processing this.

a/n: this is a common fic theme i love so i wanted to add something of my own to it. i’m not a writer so please be nice.

[bettysupremacy]

congrats on the jobbbbb!!!! you’re gonna be the cutest ice cream scooper evaaa (close tie to Steve) 🍦

Could I please request something where you’re the cute new hiree at scoops and Steve has to teach you the ropes while crushing a little (are we sensing a theme?)

thank you beautiful I loved writing this he’s such a nerd

“Okay,” Steve sighs heavily, leaning his weight onto the counter. “And this is where we make the cones.”

“Got it.”

“You might think ‘how hard could this be?’, well, you’d be surprised-“

“It was only hard for you!” Robin yells from behind the counter.

Steve laughs, welcoming the tease. “Yes, she’s totally right. It really was only hard for me.”

He shines in the fluorescent light of the sailor themed shop. The lights are actually loud, louder in your nervousness than you assume for him. His hair is big, swooping over and curling at the nape of his neck. He wears no hat, but you can assume why.

“Would you like her to teach you?”

You shake your head adamantly. Steve’s cute. Really cute. You’d seen him around town before, glimpses of a boy seemingly untouched by the hurdles of life, but you hadn’t known he’d worked here. Robin had given you the application as she had laid in your bed. Music played, the windows were down, the warm summery air drifted through the windows smelling of grass, and the both of you had collapsed silently on your twin.

“Please.” She had said, and you’d agreed.

But you didn’t know Steve worked here as well. Maybe Robin held that on purpose. You’d been to his house once. Once, for a party. It wasn’t lame and neither was his home. Tall ceilings, pretty staircases and family portraits. Why did he work here for $3 an hour? Steve doesn’t seem to know either.

“I’m very clumsy — I burn myself a lot — please ignore it.”

“I promise.”

He teaches you the mechanics of the waffle machine. It’s really simple actually, a lot simpler than he made it seem. The batter is pre-made, shipped once a week and held in the small fridge they desperately need to upgrade. Pour it in, wait 30 seconds, flip, and wait thirty seconds again. He’d burned himself pulling it out, hissing, but never faltering.

It’s golden and warm, crunchy and smelling softy of vanilla. He holds it until it’s no longer hot, and then hands it to you.

“Here,” he shrugs. “Eat your first creation.”

“Really?”

“It’s already touched my hands.” He smiles innocently. “I can’t tarnish our A+ health inspection.”

Your smile is shy as you grab it. “Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

You bite it carefully, tearing off a piece for him to eat. He takes it from your nimble fingers, eyeing the blue nail polish that cracks on your fingertips.

“So..” Steve’s awkward. “I heard you’ve known Robin awhile?”

You break off another piece of and pop it on your mouth. “Definitely awhile.”

“She’s cool,“ He smiles fondly. “Or whatever, but yeah.”

“Yeah.” You laugh a little at his redirection.

“Also,” he adds messily. “They say you have to wear the hat but..” he leans in to whisper cheekily. “screw company policy.”

You laugh loudly, startled at his closeness.

He goes to say something, pink lips parting before he’s cut off by Robin. All he can get out his a huff a breath and dully you notice you’re staring at his lips. You think he’s noticed too.

“Y/N!” Robin yells from the ice cream stand. “Get out here and let me teach you the scooper!”

You turn, smiling in the direction of your short haired friend.

“Guess I’ve gotta quit slacking.” You murmur.

“See you soon.” He’s remorseful.

“See you soon.” You amuse a little, walking towards the swinging door. He walks too.

“Right,” He bumps into you, laughing nervously. “Sorry.”

You smile, talking over him. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He cringes.

The door swings behind you, letting glimpse of laughter from the bustling store through. He sighs, palm to his eyes.

Yeah, he’s pretty cute.

[laviefantasie]

You’re The One I Call For Security

Pairings: Gojo Satoru x OC

Summary: Both being born was a world altering event. Meant to be each other’s lifetime support, though neither of them could seem to truly understand the other.

| Masterlist |

December 7, 1989, was a historically important date for the Jujutsu World. A life changing one, one that altered the world and forced it to evolve. It was the day two of the most powerful clan heirs were born.

The Gojo Clan birthed Gojo Satoru, the first person in approximately four hundred years to inherit both the Limitless inherited technique and the Six Eyes. A technique known to manipulate space and the eyes with extraordinary perception capable of seeing curse energy. Snow white hair and dazzling blue eyes that shined brighter than any diamond.

The Yukimura Clan birthed Yukimura Ara, the first person in approximately four hundred years to inherit both the Era inherited technique and the Third Eye. A technique known as to manipulate time and the eyes capable of seeing what is to come in the future. Night dark hair and glimmering red eyes that shamed any ruby.

Their births were enough to induce as much terror as excitement. Space and time users, both techniques which are known to create reality, to be born for the first time in such a long time together once again, it was a mind blowing moment. Both clans were held in high regards, recognized for their superiority after birthing the strongest sorcerers of their time. A festival was done to celebrate by all the clans and alive sorcerers.

What did it matter if stronger curses appeared when the sorcerers able to end them would soon be able to face them? What were a few years of enduring undefeatable curses when they would soon have their own perfect soldiers to eradicate them?

The birth of Gojo Satoru and Yukimura Ara was hope. They were hope and both were raised knowing so. Spoiled rotten (at least in Satoru’s case) and held above everybody else. Untouchable.

Neither was allowed to go anywhere alone. Neither was allowed to befriend other kids their age.

Their lives were all about training, learning. About becoming stronger.

Why would they be allowed to mix with children below them? Why would they be allowed to bother with childish behaviors when they had to be above it?

They were destined for grandness, and were never allowed to forget it.

Their paths crossed for the first time when they were both seven years old. The Gojo and Yukimura clans had a meeting regarding their heirs, planning to make them meet for the first time that year. That way they could strengthen their alliance.

The kids were meant to be together, as their cursed techniques attracted one another. Nothing could go wrong with the clans plans.

Gojo Satoru proved them wrong.

“A pleasure to meet you” the tiny dark haired girl bowed her head respectfully, a tiny smile adorning her pale features, “I’m Yukimura Ara”

The white haired boy scoffed. He had heard about her, more than he’d like, and all he saw her as was competition. He didn’t need anyone beside him as he became the strongest, he was more than enough of his own.

“Gojo Satoru”

Ara smiled brightly. Finally after so much isolation she could meet the one person her clan would be okay with her befriending. She would finally be able to go out of the four walls that caged her.

All thanks to him.

The maids taking care of them were a few steps behind, hoping to give them enough space to talk freely. To bond.

Looking once at her bright smile, Gojo turned around swiftly and kept walking. Ara frowned with confusion but smiled nevertheless, following him with a little skip in her steps.

“You have really pretty eyes” she adds, “Have they started hurting?”

Satoru stopped abruptly, “How do you know they hurt?”

“I saw it” she shrugs, “It wasn’t voluntarily though, I can’t really control them yet”

“By them you mean your visions?” Satoru questions, “I think I heard my parents talking about it once”

The dark haired girl nods slowly, a faint grimace on her face.

“It’s not as fun as it sounds. Most of the time it leaves me with an awful headache”

Satoru nods once, “Happens to me too”

Like turning on a switch, Ara’s smile brightens and her hands hold abruptly onto Satoru’s arm.

“Wh—HEY!”

“YOU’RE MY BEST FRIEND FROM NOW ON”

“HUH?!” He screeched, trying to get her off his arm, “How—Why does that make me your best friend?!”

Smiling innocently while tightening her grip on his arm, she looks up at him, “It’s a secret”

Satoru frowns, not understanding the girl clinging to him as if her life depended on him. Scoffing he decides to ignore it for now, after all their meeting was probably a one time thing.

Except it wasn’t.

Faster than Satoru could blink his training sessions were aligned with her own, forcing him to spend time with her before and after them. The only time he could escape her presence was when he was being taught about his own clan, as she had to be taught about her own individually too.

Oh, how he longed those boring history classes.

The first birthday they celebrated after becoming friends had Satoru fuming. His birthdays has always been a big celebration of his life, people coming for everywhere to tell him how much him being alive meant, all looking at him as if he was a god amongst them all.

But now, oh, now they weren’t looking at him.

They were looking at her.

And it was because his dear old parents had heard from her own how she had never once celebrated her birthday, all because the Yukimura clan felt it was an unnecessary festivity.

It wasn’t surprising, not at all. The Yukimura clan was known for being extremely secretive. Never once to leave their residence or associate with other clans, the only ones allowed to were the representatives and the head of the clan. They were known for their ruthless trainings and their lack of empathy.

A birthday party? Please. They barely even attended the festivities held by the other clans.

So, of course, his parents had suggested joining their birthdays. And, of course, having the opportunity to finally be able to look at the other sorcerer that change the course of the universe meant the attention was solely on her. None on him.

He was pouting. He had the right to, it was his birthday but everybody was whispering about the one they called his equal.

Ara, on the other hand, hadn’t stopped smiling. Bright red eyes shining under the lights as she looked at her surroundings, as she delighted herself by the atmosphere.

He hated every second of it.

She loved every second of it.

Worst of all? It seemed she didn’t actually focus on any of the attention she was receiving, she was more focused on looking at him and seeing his reactions.

She even had the audacity to come to him when the time to congratulate them ended and the time to socialize started. Clinging to his arm with excitement. It was annoying.

“Satoru!”

“Gojo” he corrected her under his breath.

She smiled nevertheless.

“You received so many gifts! Are you excited to open them?” Her eyes shone as they stared at him, “I am! I had never received gifts!”

“It’s a birthday party” he scoffs, “Did you not expect to receive anything?”

The question was rhetorical, but she just didn’t notice or didn’t care.

“I’ve never been to a birthday party before. Don’t know the protocol” she shrugs, “Still. It’s kinda nice of them to give us gifts”

He frowns, looking at her with a little curiosity shining in his eyes. He heard his parents when they told him she had never celebrated her birthday, but he didn’t think she didn’t even know what they were.

Not that it mattered to him anyway. Not when she had stolen his birthday.

“It’s nice that we share a birthday, don’t you think?” He didn’t. “I hope we can keep celebrating them together” He’d rather not.

He didn’t voice his thoughts. Instead he tried, even when he already knew it was futile, to get her grip off of him.

Was this what his life was meant to be from now on? With her always clinging to his side?

He couldn’t imagine anything worst.

By the time they turned twelve, Gojo had already admitted defeat. The only time he promised himself he ever would.

There was just no getting rid of her.

Indifference? Ara just brushed it off. Rudeness? She just smiled at him. Bluntness? She laughed it off. It didn’t matter what he did, so he resigned himself. Ara had clung to his arm as soon as they both met and she wasn’t letting go.

It was comforting, something he’d only admit to himself. To have someone so devoted to him that could stay beside him.

It had been engraved to him as a child that as the strongest he was fated to be alone. No one to stand beside him, no one to fight with him. But she could. She had the power to. She was fated to be alone too.

So, with that thought he allowed himself to admit defeat.

Even when he’d much rather it be anyone else but her beside him. Cause as annoying as she could be, at least he wasn’t alone.

“Hey”

His thoughts are interrupted by the annoying dark haired preadolescent clinging to his side.

“What?”

“How do you think it’ll be?” She whispers, “Tokyo’s Jujutsu High, I mean”

He freezes.

Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College, one of the two only jujutsu educational institutions in Japan dedicated to fostering the next generation of jujutsu sorcerers.

The school both the head of their clans had decided they were to attend. Together.

There really was no getting rid of her.

“I don’t know”

“Do you think we’ll meet strong people there?”

He shrugs, “Maybe”

“Stronger than us?”

Oh.

Now he understood why the question.

And, sadly, he couldn’t give her the answer she was expecting. And he knew that she already knew that.

And yet, she still asked.

She had hoped, he guessed after seeing how her red eyes shone as she stared at him.

She was a fool.

“Never stronger than us”

For the first time in the five years they had known each other, Satoru saw the light in her eyes dimmer. It was just slightly. A small change, but one he recognized as soon as it happened.

He didn’t like it.

He didn’t care enough to try to bring it back either.

So, Satoru turned his gaze back towards the cherry blossoms on the tree they sat against. Ignoring the uncomfortable reminder of the change he had caused. It wasn’t his fault, he just answered her question. It was not his fault the answer wasn’t to her liking.

Although, selfishly, he had hoped too that the answer could’ve been different.

“I think…” she started after a few minutes of silence, “I think we’ll meet someone as strong as us. Not stronger, but strong enough to stay beside us”

His eyes widened slightly, his heart clenching against his ribs as a warmth enveloped it. What was he feeling? Why did… why did he want to believe her?

“And if we don’t, at least we’ll still have each other” she turns her face to his, smiling slightly, “We’ll always have each other”

He wanted to find the thought annoying, but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to be alone, he had been alone for far too long. The promise of being by his side, a promise she could actually keep unlike any other, wasn’t one he hated.

He could take on the weight of being the strongest, but he was glad it wasn’t just his to carry.

Although he’d never voice it. Much less to her.

“SATORU!”

He sighed, but stopped nevertheless.

And arm encircled his own and a body warmed his side. Something that by now he was very much used to.

“When did you get here?” She asked, grinning, “Have you seen your dorm room? Have you unpacked already? Do you need help?”

“About an hour ago. Yes. No. And no”

“You should unpack soon. The faster you do it, the more comfortable you’ll be” her smile brightens, “I met the other girl in first year with us, her name is Ieri Shoko. She’s really nice! She’s from Nakano, and she promised she’d show us around when we get to go out”

“How’s her curse technique?”

“Huh?” She frowns, confused, “No idea. Didn’t really ask her that. I did ask her about the best bakeries around though!”

He sighed. Of course Ara wouldn’t ask the most important question. Of course she wouldn’t care about how strong their classmates were.

He envied that about her. He wished that he could care less too.

“Have you met our other classmate?”

He shakes his head.

“Huh… I heard he’s a boy. Oh! We should go meet him right now!” She tugs on his arm, “Do you think he already got here? Let’s go see!”

“Ara” he sighs again, “Stop”

She stops tugging on his arm, frowns a little, and then smiles once again.

“Is the great Gojo Satoru scared?”

“HUH?!”

“I’m right, am I not?” She giggles, “Never would’ve thought”

“I’m not scared!”

“Then what’s the problem?”

What was the problem?

He groans.

She was right, he was scared. These last few years she had made him believe they would find a place to belong in these halls. She had made him believe there could be someone strong enough to fight beside them. But…

What if she was wrong?

What if said person didn’t exist? What if they had to live the next few years by themselves as they had always been?

What if they really only had each other?

“You know…” she starts, softly, “even if they turn out to be weaker than we hope, they can still evolve. They can still learn”

He swears he just forgot how to breathe.

“And until the day they catch up arrives, we can protect them” she tilts her head, gaze full of warmth as she gazes at him, “We don’t have to be alone anymore”

She’s annoying, he thinks. And yet, he allows her to pull him again so he can go meet their classmates.

She’s annoying but, somehow, he doesn’t find it in himself to be annoyed.

She’s annoying but he is thankful she pushed him to meet Geto Suguru, whose curse energy gives Satoru relief. He was strong, just like him. He wasn’t alone.

With a side eye, Satoru looks at her and finds himself changing his old thought. He hadn’t ever been alone, not really, right? She’d always been there, even when he didn’t want her to. Even when he had tried everything to get rid of her. So now it was that he wasn’t alone, it was that neither of you actually were.

He would allow himself that relieving thought.

Until…

She is talking to the other girl, Shoko he assumes. And Ara looks happy, annoyingly so. How could she smile that bright to somebody that wasn’t him? How could she be giving that much attention to another?

Why did he even care?

He bites the inside of his cheek, trying to ignore the clenching feeling in his chest. It was annoying and so was she. He should be thankful there was someone else for her to bother.

So, why wasn’t he?

“Oh, is she your sister?”

“HUH?!”

Geto laughs softly, “Sorry, I just saw how she clung to your arm before and how annoyed you looked, yet you still let her. That’s how I imagine brothers to look at their sisters”

“She’s not my sister” Satoru groans, “We look nothing alike!”

“True” Geto shrugs, “but not all family is decided by blood”

Geto smiles once more before joining Ara and Shoko, leaving Gojo frozen in his spot.

Not all family is decided by blood.

Huh. Was that what you were to him? Family? The thought strangely didn’t repulse him. You had been by his side the longest after all, annoyingly so. But the one of you being his sister? That made him want to gouge his eyes out, for some reason.

And the smile you were giving Geto was not one he could tolerate.

That’s why he found himself walking until he got between both of you, glaring as you smiled sweetly and brightly towards him. He didn’t like how upset he felt after knowing you had just smiled that way towards your other classmates. He didn’t understand nor like that he got upset, but he was Gojo Satoru and he didn’t have to explain his reasons.

“You haven’t talked to me since yesterday” Ara pouted, “Why are you upset with me?”

Gojo ignores the question, focusing on his Digimon manga, making her frown.

“Satoru!” She grabbed the manga from his hands, “Stop ignoring me!”

“HEY! Give it back”

“Not until you answer me!”

Gojo’s frown deepens and a pout settles on his face, but this time Ara doesn’t let it faze her. He has been ignoring her for a whole 24 hours, and that had never really happened before. Sure, he had sometimes never answered when she talked herself out, but he had never avoided her.

Not for long at least. Or successfully.

“I’m not ignoring you”

“Yeah, right” she scoffs, “and my hair is blonde”

“Could be”

Ara stares at him blankly at that and Gojo bites back a grimace. He just really didn’t want to admit why he had avoided her for so long.

He didn’t want to admit that seeing the closeness ahead had with Suguru after their mission together bothered him. Much less how they seemed to now have inner jokes he didn’t, and couldn’t, understand.

He hated that it had bothered him.

“Just tell me what’s wrong” she whispers, giving him the manga after a defeated sigh.

“I’m not upset”

“Stop lying” she snaps, “I know you—”

“You know me?!” He laughs, “You know nothing about me!”

“Satoru—”

“It’s the truth! What do you know about me?! All you’ve done our whole lives is cling to my arm like a damn pest!” He shouts, standing up to tower over her, “I finally get to free myself from you! At least for a while! There isn’t anything behind it, there doesn’t have to be! I’m just finally enjoying some peace and quiet as I’ve always wanted and you’ve never allowed me to enjoy!”

“I—”

“I finally get to get rid off you, there doesn’t have to be a reason for me to do so! Not when I’ve always wanted to do so!”

Ara’s face falls for a second before becoming numb. The light in her eyes dimming, until is cease to exist.

Oh, he went too far. His chest starts to clench, his whole body becoming cold. Why was he feeling like this? Wasn’t this what he had always wanted? To see her look at him as if he was nothing to her? To not ever see that bright eyes and shining smile towards his cold gaze ever again?

Why was it hurting him then now that it happened?

And then she smiles. Slightly. Faintly.

“I’m sorry I’ve made you feel so upset you felt the need to snap” she apologizes softly, before bravely looking at him, “But I’m not sorry for staying by your side! Enjoy your peace and quiet because tomorrow it’ll be gone, I’ll cling to you one again! And you’ll deal with it!”

“Wha—”

She crosses her arms, defiantly, “I know you. Better than you believe. And you know that. So if you feel upset and you wanna take it out on me, bring it on! I can take it! But don’t you dare think that means I’m leaving! I’m staying!”

The pain in his chest alleviates, yet his breath is taken away.

Ara stares at him defiantly once more, before turning around and leaving his room. Not before reminding him she’ll be back tomorrow.

And then Satoru lets himself fall back on his bed.

What the hell was that?

He had screamed at her. Insulted her even, to her face, even worse. And she brushed it off. She saw right through his self-destructive mechanism, the one he had built as a child when he discovered he was meant to be alone in this world before he had met or heard of her.

What the hell was that?

He didn’t understand her. Not at all.

Worst of all, why did he feel so glad? Why had it scared him so much when he tried to push her away, as he had done to many before? Why did he feel such relief when she refused to leave him?

He must be going mad. That must be it.

But when she came to his door the next day so they could walk to class together, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling with relief when she wasn’t looking. Nor the swell in his chest as she clung to his arm.

He must definitely be mad.

It was supposed to be easy. Suguru, Satoru and Ara were the strongest. It was supposed to be easy babysitting duty for the three of them. They even had had the time to enjoy the beauty in Okinawa before heading back to the safety of their school.

How had it come to this?

“GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

Toji Fushiguro smirks as he sees the bleeding dark haired beauty stand with defiance in front of Gojo Satoru’s corpse.

He found it amusing. He was sure he had killed her, yet she stood. All for the boy he had already defeated. It was a waste of time, but considering he respected fighters like her he decided to amuse her.

Even with her time manipulation technique, Ara wasn’t fast enough. Maybe if she had listened to her clan, as ruthless as they had been, she would’ve been able. Maybe she could’ve been stronger. Yet she refused to fall. She couldn’t, not when she could feel Satoru slipping away. Not when her heart was screaming in agony.

So even if every part of her body hurt, and every piece of her skin bled, she remained standing. She had to give Suguru and Amanai time. She had to help Satoru.

It wasn’t a choice. She just had to.

And then the weapon pierces through her heart, and she felt her own time slipping.

Oh, how ironic. The one whose technique controls time had run out of it. It was truly a funny cruel joke from the fates.

“You have guts, kiddo” Toji praises, “You even made me bleed. Kinda sad for it to end here, but time is money”

A cough leaves her body, blood splattering out as if she was drowning on it. It felt like it honestly. Her breathing was getting harder by the second, her chest was being clench painfully as neither heart nor lungs got enough space to function properly.

“S… Sa… ‘Toru” she croaks, softly, blood being spit out, “…’Toru…”

Tears fall down her face as her eyes lose the glimmering gem color, becoming a dark bloody red instead. Her power succumbing to her wounds, as does her body.

She was running out of time.

“Finally up from your nap?”

Ruby glistening eyes, brighter than lava, open with a big intake of breath. Her body felt numb, yet tingly.

She felt so powerful.

“Feels like we’ve been reborn, right?” Satoru’s soothing raspy voice says, “Funny we discovered the peak of our powers on the brink of death”

“Hilarious” she responds, voice alluring like a siren’s call.

She raises a hand to her face, the light from the sunset creating a halo around it she can see from where she lays. It’s… beautiful.

Another hand comes into view, waiting for her to take it. And she does.

Once on her feet everything feels like a dream. The colors are brighter, the sounds can be felt, and the smell taste. Was this what becoming a god felt like?

Everything after was a blur.

Toji Fushiguru was dead. So was Amanai. They had failed.

Nothing would ever be the same after.

Gojo Satoru became the strongest. He took mission after mission, alone. Nothing and nobody could touch him. He was an unstoppable force. He had become the god.

Yukimura Ara became his ally. She never smiled again, the light from her alluring eyes extinguished. She was a weapon, blood thirsty and fearful. She had become the goddess.

Geto Suguru had been left behind, silently and unknowingly. His power closed off securely, afraid of another failure as doubts clouded his moral. He became the wild card.

And Shoko had to watch as everything she once loved fell apart. Keeping her distance. Haying herself for seeing the pain her three friend were suffering and not being able to help. She became the bystander.

The once found family of four had divided. Even when their hearts longed to be with the others, their bodies and minds kept them apart.

And then Haibara died.

“What are… what are you saying?”

She had just come back from a special grade curse mission. She had a bag full of sweets for Gojo, Shoko’s favorite cigarettes, and a new book for Suguru from his favorite author.

This wasn’t what she expected to come home to.

“Geto Suguru has killed 112 non-sorcerers while on a mission. He has been named a cursed user and sentenced to—”

“LIES!”

The bag falls from her strong grip and the windows nears her break due to the increased in her cursed technique. Yaga sighs with remorse. There was no way to soothes the pain, nor the guilt that would come.

He knew it better than them. He was his student after all.

“Where’s Satoru? Shoko?” She screams, “I need to know what the hell is going up!”

“Yukimura”

“NO!”

She doesn’t waste another second, letting her curse technique guide her to Satoru.

She should’ve seen this coming. She had the third eye, she could glimpse into the future and the past, now more than ever after Toji Fushiguru. Why hadn’t she seen this coming? Why hadn’t she stopped it?

It had to be a lie. It had to be.

But it wasn’t.

Standing behind Gojo as he and Geto face each other in front of a KFC, Shoko a few meters behind her, Ara was hit by the cruel cold true.

Geto Suguru had become a cursed user.

“DON’T DO THIS”

Geto stops in his tracks, Satoru freezes in his struggle to kill his best friend, Shoko’s indifferent mask falls.

Tears are falling down her cheeks from her ruby eyes.

None of them had ever seen her cry before.

“PLEASE… please” she chokes back a sob, “Suguru… don’t do this… don’t go…”

“You were the last person I wanted to hurt, Ara” he states, his back facing her, “I’m sorry it has to be this way”

“NO”

Satoru stops her from running after him as he disappears from view, camouflaged by the many bystanders.

She feels her chest burn with fury, with hatred. She was being left behind, he was turning her back on her. Just like all her family had. Once again she felt like she meant nothing without her curse technique, as her blood had always reminded her.

She hated Geto Suguru.

She hated him for leaving them, leaving her, all behind. He hated her for making her feel easy to abandon, easy to detach from. He hated her for making her feel alone.

She hated him cause he was the only one that truly knew the abuse she had suffered from her family. The dark room she was locked in all her childhood. The blood that drowned her, the scars on her back. The mental wounds that’d never heal.

She wouldn’t forgive him.

Geto Suguru had destroyed the only real home she had ever had.

But, most of all, she hated herself. Ara hated how useless he truly was, never able to save what truly mattered.

The night Suguru left was a cold and lonely one. The stars didn’t shine as bright and the silence felt suffocating.

At least that’s what Ara thought when she went to join Satoru in his solitude. Sitting quietly beside him, letting him mourn what they all lost while letting him know she was still here.

“I’m okay” he whispered.

Voice broken, low, and raspy. I can’t breathe, it whispered silently.

“I know” she whispered back.

Voice dull, hopeless, and soft. I’ll be your oxygen, it meant.

She saw his shoulders fall, with relief. As if her sole presence gave him peace of mind. As if her being here is what kept him alive.

“I don’t need you” Don’t go.

“You never have” I’ll never leave.

He sighs. A deep, full with grief, sigh.

“Read the room. I’m fine, just needed some air” My heart is breaking, promise you’ll stay.

“Don’t know what you mean, I’m stargazing” I’ll pick up every piece, I promise.

Satoru turns to look at her. Crystal glimmering blue eyes staring straight at her ruby shining red ones. Two bare souls being viewed by the other, a thing they’d only ever allowed from now on the other to see.

“You’re annoying” I love you.

“You have no idea” So do I. I always have.

Maybe Ara had always been what he needed. He tried to scare her away, showed her the door every time, and yet she loved him and stayed anyway. Never judged him when he was unable, loved him through all his unstableness.

He had never done anything to truly deserve her. Bu he was thankful to whatever god or deity above graced him with her.

He may be broken in pieces, maybe always had been, but she has always been his constant; his peace of mind. And with every toxic memory, she had been his rock; and he knew she’d continue to be.

This time he’ll appreciate her properly.

She deserved the world, and he’ll be the one to give it to her. That’s an oath.

For now, though, they’d stargaze together as they both mourn all they have lost. Nothing would ever be the same from now on, but whatever came they’d face it together. As they always have.

Two cursed souls meant to walk a lonely and cruel path. The world truly was cruel.

But… as they felt the presence of the other near, they could also say that it had beauty in it. Beauty worth fighting for.

[fairyboygenius]

good luck, babe!

farah karim x original female character (part one)

warnings: vague harassment (not by farah or josie), weird comment by bad character calling farah “exotic”, being mean to alex because he gets in the way of the lesbian love story (sorry alex/farah stans i don’t know why you’re still here )

She never should’ve agreed to come to this stupid bar.

Farah shifted awkwardly, the cup of Sprite spilling ever so slightly onto her top. Her eyes tracked the scene. Typical; the Brits causing trouble in a Chicago bar. Gaz and Soap ganging up on college boys at the pool table, Price trying to flirt with a twenty something by the bathrooms, Ghost looking at his phone (for sure just the weather app) with his drink in hand. Alex was at the bar getting him and Farah refills. And there she sat, on a high barstool, regarding over the bar as though she owned it. Quiet scrutiny disguised as class radiated off of her, sort of giving off a “don’t touch me” sort of energy.

“Hey, pretty thing.”

Farah looked down and immediately rolled her eyes. A bland looking man, one that had clearly just been playing pool with Soap and Gaz, leered up at her, eyes directly level with her tits. Fuckin’ fantastic. Just what this mediocre night needed.

“Not interested.”

He moved on, unbothered. “I’m Beau. Beau Hunter.”

“That means nothing to me.”

“It could, though. Could change whatever exotic last name I’m sure you have, give you mine.”

Rage suddenly wafted off her. “You little-“

“Hunter! Third strike.”

Farah felt her mouth go dry at the sight of her knight in shining armor. A woman, 30ish. Brunette. Hair in two braids. A honeyed Midwestern accent tinged with venom. A lavender carabiner shaped like a heart jingled against her belt loop, heavy with multiple sets of keys.

Farah’s heart skipped a beat. That was new.

Beau- the prick- stepped back, face falling. ���Josie. Didn’t realize you were workin’ tonight.”

The hero- Josie- shook her head, a slight scent of vanilla and cinnamon hitting Farah’s nose. “Well, no, but I’ve got express permission from Brooke to kick you out even if I’m off the clock. Your presence is making the bar unsafe for everyone. Time’s up, daddy’s money.”

Farah stifled a laugh as Beau pouted, slamming his drink down before storming out of the bar. Didn’t even pay for it, the dick.

That gaze focused itself on Farah then, moving in closer. Vanilla hit her nose again. “Sorry about him. He’s just an overgrown frat boy.” She held out her hand. “Josette, most people call me Josie or Jo. You haven’t earned my last name yet.”

Farah raised an eyebrow. “Earned it?”

Josie shrugged. “Why not add a little mystery into your trip? I’m assuming you’re not a local. Gonna make you work for it, a little bit.”

Farah laughed, surprising herself. “Farah, then. Farah Karim.”

“No mystery for you?”

“Deal with that enough in my job.”

Josie raised an eyebrow. She had a septum ring, Farah noticed. It looked good on her. “I’m assuming you can’t tell me, otherwise you’ll have to kill me, so I’ll let it slide. This your first time in Chicago?”

Farah shook her head. Maybe being around drunk people helped you feel drunk too, because her head was swimming. “Haven’t gotten much of a chance to explore the city. I love this neighborhood.”

“I’ve lived here my whole life. It’s probably my favorite place on Earth.” Josie held eye contact for a few more seconds before looking over at the bar, where Price seemed to have succeeded in his flirtations. He was passionately kissing the young girl, his hand sliding up her shirt. Josie and Farah both winced at the sight.

Farah groaned. “Sorry. My colleague seems to have forgotten that other people can see him.”

“It’s not your fault.” Josie sighed, crossing her arms over her ample chest. Farah tried not to let her eyes linger on the cleavage amplified by that one simple motion. What was going on with her? “I’m not on the clock, neither are you. It’s frankly none of our business if your boss is feeling up a teenybopper.”

Farah barked out a laugh. “You’ve got a way with words, for sure.”

“I just tell it like it is, sweetheart.”

Farah instantly felt blood rush to her face, blinking rapidly. There was a funny feeling in her chest, like a glitter bomb exploded or someone had shaken up a soda bottle.

“Oh, hey, Farah. I’m sorry, I got caught up talking with the bartender.” Alex touched her arm gently. Alex. She noticed a flash of disappointment in Josie’s eyes and immediately wanted to throttle him.

“Alex. Hey.” Farah took a sip of her drink, then gestured towards Josie. “This is Josie. You’ve gotta earn the right to know her last name.”

Josie recovered quickly, plastering on a smile. “Nice to meet you.”

Alex smiled, ever polite. “You too.” He turned to Farah then. “You ready to go?”

She nodded, eyes flickering back to Josie. “I’ll be ready in a second. Meet you outside.”

“Okay.” Alex pecked her cheek before turning away. Farah felt herself cringe on the inside. She took a deep breath before turning back to Josie.

“I’d love to get your number, so we could hang out when I’m in Chicago. I’m around too much testosterone as it is.”

Josie smiled. It seemed a bit forced. “I’ll give you my number.”

[dozing-marshmallow]

Dawg…..i NEED NEEED NEED more of Chris Nibling with the other campers please 🙏 🙏

You ask, you shall receive ;D

CHRIS MCLEAN’S NIBLING! READER AND CAMPERS (CONTINUED HEADCANONS)

“Where did I leave it...?” The pretty blonde girl wondered around the campsite one day, in search of something. She finds you sitting in your beach chair and the missing item fades from her priorities,“Oh! Evening (Y/N)! Woah...you look tinier than I remember...” 

“Huh?” You look up at her. Did her mind go on holiday again?

“Yeah! You’re like a little kid, I’m surprised they let you on the show!” She blurted out. Yep, it has.

“That’s because I am a kid! Not a little one.” You proudly remind her,“A little kid wouldn’t own a makeup kit now, would they?” you held up the one you found to her, not knowing it was hers, let alone what she was searching for until she squalled.

“Omg!” She plucks it from you, her long hair shimmering with the sun,“Thanks (Y/M)! You’re like my Santa’s little helper! Oooo! Have you ever tried this stuff?” 

“The makeup?” You tilt your head,“Isn’t it for adults?”

“It’s for everyone!” Lindsay averred,“Oh, it’s a must! Makeoveeer!”

The idea startled you,“I don’t know... Uncle Chris might not-“

“Ohhh we’ll be fine! He’ll totally change his mind after seeing it!” She was very certain, which could either mean it’ll go exceptionally or horribly.

Only one way to find out.

"So lucky!” She holds your jaw up,“You're still at that age where you can eat whatever you want, whenever you want!”

"Huh? Can't you also eat whatever you want?" You asked your beautician of the day, unaware of adolescence’s side effects.

"I caaaan't! Too many carbs and butter tarts is bad for you!" She complained,"You break out into hives, grow hair everywhere and get taller...!"

“Eww!” you pull a face of repulsion,“I can’t imagine what you’re going through! It sounds so hard!”

"As Buddhism says, it's a part of life if you wanna keep tanning." A breath of sorrow, she searches her bag,"Okaay... Um, let's start off with the foundation!"

You watch her squirt some of this skin matching liquid on her blender,"Do you know what you’re doing?”

"Sure I dooo! But I bet you didn't know that when I was eleven, we had this charity called something Foundation visit us at school and they weren't even about make up!” She begins to dab it on your cheek,“So glad I exposed those con artists in front of everyone! What kind of charity deceives people like that?"

Uh huh...

"Eyeliner time!" She declares, hoarding the blender back into her kit.

You didn’t recognise what “eyeliner” was until she took it out, a pen looking thing,“Ohh I know what that is! My uncle uses that all the time! I always thought the way he did it looked creepy.”

“Uncle? You...have an uncle?” She repeated wide-eyed like the term was foreign.

“...Chris?”

“Ohhh right!” Her mind brought back to the minimum work,“That’s where I know you from!”

Having that needed to be recalled, you were kind of getting scared about what was she putting on your face.

“Let’s add a beauty mark therrrre! And you’re done!” She takes out her mirror and holds it in front of you,“Tadaa! What do you think?”

“It’s the wrong way, Lindsay.” You lightheartedly inform her.

“Oops! Sorry!” She flips it around, and you see the final product at last.

You gasped... 

Wow!

Maybe it’s because you were inexperienced with makeup, but in your eyes, Lindsay was phenomenal, the very best: the shine on your nose and correctly placed pastels were all so glamorous to your young mind, you felt guilty for ever doubting her. She knew what she was doing!,“I love it! I love it, I love it, I love it! I look like those models Uncle Chris talks to sometimes! I don’t think I ever wanna wash my face again!”

"You're welcoooome!” The “dumb princess” chimed, twirling her finger around a strand of her hair,”Still think he won’t like it?”

Absolutely not! Maybe if he likes it enough, you could convince him to replace his current make up artist with her! Fingers crossed!

Hearing DJ, you jump into a non-lethal bush and waited until he was in your peripheral vision to grab his attention.

“Thought I heard you (Y/N)!” he warmly came over to you, used to your ways of a child,“Everything alright with you?”

“Yep!” you emerge, lifting your head up to make eye contact with the tall jock,“I wanted to know if...you wanted to feed the squirrels with me.”

“Aw, I’d love to-“ He paused. He had to remember that this adorable child was related to Chris,“Count me in!”

"Yay!" You pull onto his large hand and led him into the woods. Seeing a family of squirrels, you lean on a log and pass him your spare bag of nuts. While you waited for the bushy tailed rodents to warm up to you, DJ had a very serious question to ask.

“What’s the name of your teddy?”

Oh man! You were going to miss him so much when he goes,“Mrs Maple! She was there for me since day one! Chris got her for me.”

He takes a second to appreciate your innocence, connecting the story to his relationship with momma,“You really love him a lot, don’t you?”

You made a fuss from his imprecise words,“Mrs Maple is a girl!”

“I know that! I meant Chris.” Now they were precise; even at your error, he managed to not raise his voice if it meant the feasting squirrels could continue entrusting their vulnerability to the both of you.

“Ohh! Yeah, I love him a lot too! He’s on my top ten favourite people list(and so are you)! There’s no uncle in the world I would trade him for.” You exclaimed, goodbye-ing the squirrels in your thoughts,“Aww...”

Luckily, you weren’t left alone by nature’s animals for long; something further away moves into your sight, slow and mature. You excitedly point it out,“DJ, do you see that? There’s a moose over there!”

And he returns the excitement, by picking your smaller body up and sitting you on his shoulders. Woah! You’ve never been this high before! “Let’s get a closer look! Moose are also friendly.”

With his hands secured around your legs, you spread your arms out, mimicking an airplane,“Weeeee!”

Another session of free time led the campers to be diffused everywhere on the island, so there were very few people in the mess hall- such as Harold, Leshawna, and yourself, who was playing uno with Duncan. The stack was currently a green 8, like his mohawk. It’s Duncan’s turn and he takes a pause, before smirking.

“Two plus six makes eight...” he places down two cards at once, a blue two and a blue six.

This boils you to take discipline,“Pick up two cards, Duncan! You can’t do that, that’s cheating!”

“No it’s not!” He revolted back.

“Is too!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!” you huff,“Chriiis!”

Having being called, your uncle gets up from where he was sitting and comes behind you,“What’s the problem?”

“Tell Duncan he can’t do that!” You demand, throwing a finger at the smug juvenile delinquent.

Chris complies to your exact words, by repeating in a dull tone,“Duncan, you can’t do that.”

“Aww come on, dude! You should’ve seen what I did! Look and decide as the host if it’s fair.” He gleefully folds his arms.

So Chris does and whether it was so he could see you irritated or that he genuinely liked what Duncan pulled, he approved of it.

“Hah! Sorry smarty pants!” Duncan laughed in triumph at you gritting your teeth,“Looks like you’ll be the one picking up two cards!”

You throw your deck at him,“No I won’t, because I quit!”

“Aww, is someone mad they couldn’t handle my genius?” He derided, resting his face on his palm, monobrow wiggling.

“Shut up, cheater!” You stuck your tongue out at him,“Cheater!”

So annoying!

[cecilysass]

Shine On (1/16)

Read on AO3 | Tagging @today-in-fic

Chapter One: Vandy

Rawlins Middle School Rawlins, Wyoming February 3, 2015

“Vandy.” Louis slams into Jackson with the force of his entire body. It’s an affectionate body slam, but also hard enough for Jackson to lose his pencil and nearly his armful of books and binders. “Did you hear? I hope it’s true. It better be true.”

“What are you talking about?” Jackson bends over to pick up the pencil, trying not to get knocked over again by the continual current of students on their way to third period.

“The police came to shut the school down. We’re getting out of here, bro.”

Jackson looks up at his friend skeptically. “Louis, what are you talking about, seriously?”

“Second period we could see the police coming into the building.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m positive. And I heard it was because there was a bomb threat and they’re going to close school right after lunch.”

“If it was a bomb threat, they wouldn’t wait to close school,” Jackson points out. “They’d close it right away.”

“Maybe it’s not a for sure bomb threat,” Louis replies. He looks suddenly doubtful. “Fuck, it better be true. I haven’t finished my essay yet.”

“What did you plan to do if there wasn’t a bomb threat?” Jackson asks curiously.

“Hey Vandy.” Delia Rich suddenly appears next to Jackson, and he quickly straightens his posture. Delia is so pretty: brown hair, bangs, pink cheeks, round behind. “Did you hear about the girl in seventh grade?”

“No, I didn’t,” Jackson says. His tone is considerably more polite all of a sudden. “What about her?”

Delia leans toward him seriously and lowers her voice. “She killed her parents and herself and the police are here to question everyone.”

“Naw, the police are here for the bomb threat,” Louis says dismissively, shimmying to the side to avoid a group of loud and oblivious sixth grade girls walking past them.

“Who told you about that?” Jackson asks Delia, frowning.

“Hannah R. in 8C,” Delia says, shrugging. She seems to think of something else. “Oh, Vandy.” Her eyes widen and roll dramatically. “Did you study for algebra? Oh my god, it was awful.”

“Yeah.” Jackson nods, but he’s distracted, even from a conversation he would normally be thrilled to be having.

“I spent three hours last night on quadratic equations,” Delia says. “I’m not even exaggerating. I should have asked you for help.”

“Because he’s such a fucking nerd?” Louis adds helpfully.

“No, because he’s really good at helping with math,” Delia says to Jackson, bumping into him a little. “Can you quiz me before class?”

Over Delia’s shoulder, Louis begins to raise his eyebrows up and down significantly like a maniac. Jackson studiously ignores him.

“Yeah, but I, uh, gotta stop in there first,” Jackson says, gesturing vaguely behind her.

“Stop in where?” She looks around the hall.

“Restroom,” Jackson says, irrationally embarrassed.

“Oh, right.” Delia turns back around. “I’ll see you in a few minutes then?”

“Yeah,” Jackson says, attempting the most winning smile he can muster as she darts across the hall into the classroom.

Louis immediately shoves his shoulder. “What are you doing, dumbass? I thought you liked her.”

“I do,” Jackson says pathetically. “But I have to use the restroom. For real.”

“Jesus, you have absolutely no game.”

Jackson decides not to bring up his friend’s own unsuccessful record with girls. “I’ll talk to you later, Louis.” He begins to make a beeline for the boys’ room.

“Wait, are we playing GTA after school?” Louis calls as Jackson begins to walk away.

“Uh, no,” Jackson calls back. “I can’t today. My parents stayed home to meet the guy delivering our new washer and dryer.” Jackson’s mom hates Grand Theft Auto, so he can only play when she’s out of the house.

“You’re a loser,” Louis responds good-naturedly. “See you later.”

Jackson flees, weaving in and out between students hurrying to make it to class on time.

As soon as Jackson is inside the restroom, he heads directly for the third stall, the only one with a fully functioning lock on the door.

By some miracle, it’s unoccupied. Actually, the whole bathroom is empty. He hurries inside and fastens the latch as quickly as possible.

And then for a moment he stands there, clutching his books and trying to catch his breath. He stares at the back of the stall door. It is covered in scrawled “suck my dick” and “turrrn uuup” in black marker.

Jackson’s not sure why the news of the police coming to his school has him so worked up, but it does. He can still feel his heart racing. Every muscle in his body is tense.

Calm down. Calm down.

He places a hand on his chest and counts to four as he breathes in, then holds his breath for a count of seven, then breathes out. It’s a technique his therapist likes to recommend to him. He’s slightly skeptical that it really works, but he tries it anyway. When he’s getting worried or irrationally fearful, when his emotions start to betray him, he wants anything that will help.

After a minute, the bell rings. Now he’s officially late for algebra. And they’re having a test, one he’s prepared for.

He should leave this bathroom.

He should go to class right now, take his tardy gracefully, sit down, smile at Delia, get out his pencil, and take his test.

Still, he doesn’t move. He doesn’t even begin to move. Every instinct is telling him not to move.

Instead, he closes his eyes and empties his mind.

Hesitantly, he begins to push out cautious little tendrils to probe around him in the school. He doesn’t really want to do this, but something deep inside tells him it’s important. That he needs to.

People’s minds feel different, have different textures to them. Right now, as he shines into people, as he gently touches the minds closest around him with his own, he can tell that most of them are kids, his friends and classmates. Kids’ minds are usually sort of bright and loud and flashy, like commercials for kids’ cereals. Every once in a while there’s a kid mind that’s very sad, unusually sad, but even then it’s sad in stark, dramatic colors, clear and tragic and obvious. Kids don’t hide things well.

But he brushes against adult minds in the school, too: teachers, mainly. Adults’ inner lives are so much more complicated than kids’. Harder to get into. Some of them are complex and curlicued, like honeycombs, and others are like smooth stones you find on a riverbed. Some are like an animal carcass rotting, full of holes you don’t want to shine into too deep.

It’s because of adults’ minds that Jackson doesn’t like shining into people’s heads very much. He’d prefer to stay out of other people’s minds as much as possible.

He peeks into the teachers’ minds just enough to identify them, to see their memories: their own faces in the mirror, their classes back up at them, bored faces staring from desks. He’s not looking for a teacher, so he moves along quickly. He doesn’t want to see any of their secrets.

Finally he’s found something different: the front office, a group of minds clustered together, a cloud of anxiety shared among them. One of them he recognizes must be his principal, Mr. Werther – he can see in his memories speaking into the intercom for the morning announcements today. Mr. Werther is feeling very troubled about something right now. His thoughts are racing. He’s wondering what the right decision is. He’s wondering whether he will be blamed if something goes wrong. His mind feels like a soda bottle shook up, ready to burst.

Quickly, Jackson switches his shine to another mind in the group, someone calmer. This mind is sharper, metallic-feeling, and he realizes that it’s a police officer, someone in charge, someone named Davis. He pushes further into Davis’s mind, into his current consciousness, and he sees that Davis is trying to explain the situation to Mr. Werther, trying to assure him that everyone will be safe, trying to let him know that there is back-up waiting right outside the school. Davis doesn’t think Mr. Werther is very smart.

Dimly, Jackson is aware that he is tightening his grip on his books, his anxiety rising. Something is very wrong here. He feels it in Davis’s thoughts. He sees flashes of himself.

He prods the shine deeper into Davis’s mind, pushing back thin layers that seem a little like aluminum foil.

In Davis’s recent memory, there is an image of something horrible: a crime scene. Bodies, shot, a man and a woman. Lying on their kitchen floor in a pool of blood, their faces vacant. Davis stands over them, shaking his head, writing notes.

The bodies’ faces are familiar. They’re Jackson’s parents.

Jackson feels himself start to breathe faster.

As though seeing light behind a dirty window, he starts to see what Davis thinks happened.

He thinks Jackson shot his parents before he went to school that morning. Davis pictures it happening: Jackson, shouting, lifting a gun and shooting first his father and then his mother. Davis thinks he possibly has a gun on him now, at school. The police want to apprehend him safely, with no one being hurt.

“We need to consider him dangerous,” Davis’s voice is echoing through his thoughts. “But we can do this in a way that makes sure no one gets hurt.”

All at once Jackson opens his eyes, falling back into his own consciousness, feeling short of breath.

He realizes he’s trembling. Mom. His parents.

Are his parents really dead? How could they be? He saw them just this morning. His mom had reminded him about his therapy appointment tomorrow and his dad had told him to stop leaving lights on. He hadn’t kissed his mom good-bye. He had been in a hurry.

Jackson feels sick. Mom. Mommy.

It’s impossible. He doesn’t want to think about it. He wants his mom. He wants to throw up.

There is a crackling sound echoing through the bathroom, and then the sound of a tinny voice speaking over an intercom. “Students and teachers, please pardon the interruption. Jackson Van De Kamp in eighth grade, would you please come to the main office? Jackson Van De Kamp in eighth grade, come to the main office.”

Jackson tenses his whole body behind the door of the bathroom stall, ready to push through, an instinctive defensive maneuver.

They’re really going to try to arrest him, he realizes. They really think he killed his parents.

He feels panic rising in his stomach, seriously threatening to make him lose his breakfast. They think he’s a killer.

You don’t have to worry. Not you. You can protect yourself. Stay calm.

He closes his eyes again and carefully shifts the perception of all minds around him, giving himself a thirty foot perimeter of altered reality.

It’s a big effort for him — bigger than his usual modest experiments — but he doesn’t feel any headache. Maybe it’s the adrenaline.

Walking like he’s in a dream—like he’s in a nightmare, really—he cautiously steps out of the bathroom.

Anyone looking in the hall simply sees Louis.

Jackson, as Louis, walks down the hallways of his school at the same slow pace, so as not to attract attention. It’s an effort to keep the minds around him altered and his own posture casual and unassuming. He walks past classrooms, watching all around him with his peripheral vision and the little fingers of his mind. Louis, please don’t happen to come out in the hall to use the restroom at this exact moment. Please.

He heads towards the entrance of the school, which means passing the front office. As he approaches, he sees that now there is actually almost no one around the front office at all. That seems weird—usually there are tons of students and teachers congregating near it.

Just keep walking, he thinks. Hopefully you’ll be unnoticed.

As he’s stepping past the door, two policemen emerge, moving quickly.

“Where are you headed, son?” From a quick tap of his mind, Jackson recognizes this man as Davis, the officer apparently in charge.

“My mom’s car. Dentist appointment,” Jackson mutters.

Davis glances out the door, where there is fortunately a car in the parking lot that looks plausibly like a waiting parent. “All right, go quickly. Don’t hang around. We need all students out of this general vicinity.”

Davis waves him out, and Jackson eagerly follows in the direction of his gesture out the door.

The February temperature hits him like a slap in the face. Regretfully he realizes his good winter coat is in his locker, back inside the school.

He keeps walking casually down the steps of the school and down the driveway, already beginning to shiver uncontrollably.

When he gets to the road, out of easy eyesight of the school, he drops his books on the ground and begins to jog. The school is on a wind blown, gray, desolate-looking Wyoming road, with little traffic except for those coming to the school. He drops his Louis perception filter. There’s no one to see.

And after he does, he discovers to his surprise that he’s crying.

He has no idea where he’s going now.

He has a vague idea that he should get out of town—maybe to a big city, like Cheyenne or Denver—but he isn’t sure how to get there. He has no money. He could hitchhike, but the idea of hitchhiking scares him, which makes him feel ashamed.

It’s just he’s too familiar with the kinds of things that adults think about. And after all, someone just killed his parents.

Why did someone kill his parents? Who would do that? His parents never did anything to anyone. They weren’t drug dealers or thieves. They were Lutherans. His mom made casseroles, and his dad carved wooden ducks. They were cheerful, optimistic, the type of people to see the good in everyone. Sometimes Jackson felt like he didn’t have much in common with them— like they saw the world very differently from him— but he loved them. He could never have hurt them. And he hates to think of what they thought, in the moment they died.

He finds himself crying harder as he jogs. He shouldn’t do this now; it’s too cold for tears. He tries to wipe them off with the sleeve of his sweater. But it’s hard to stop crying once he’s started.

He tries to jog faster. Turns it into a run. Maybe this will snap him out of it, clear his head. He’s always been good at running. At the very least it will warm him up.

Just keep running, he tells himself. He smiles a little, because it reminds him of a line from one of his favorite movies when he was a kid, Finding Nemo. Just keep swimming. His mom would repeat the line to him as a joke when he was learning to swim.

He blinks back the tears again and runs harder.

He wonders if Louis will think he really did kill his parents. He wonders if Delia will. He wonders if the other kids at school will all talk about it: Jackson Van De Kamp, the psycho kid who shot his family and was planning on shooting up the school. If they will make up stories about why he was going to do it.

A car passes on the road, and he quickly slips a filter into the driver’s mind: he’s a nice old lady picking up trash along the side of the road.

When the car passes, he continues running and considers his options. He doesn’t have a phone. His parents were waiting until high school to get him one. Even if he did, he couldn’t use it now anyway—the police would track him.

Shelter is an immediate problem. There’s a Frontier Museum in downtown Rawlins. He wonders if he might go inside and find a place to hide overnight, at least until he has a better idea. But the museum costs money to get a ticket, and he doesn’t have money.

He could try to contact his Uncle Wyatt to see if he would help him. But what if Uncle Wyatt believes the story and thinks Jackson killed his parents? Uncle Wyatt has always found Jackson annoying, ever since Jackson threw that basketball into his flatscreen TV when he was six. He could very well decide to turn his nephew in.

Then there is his birth mom. Jackson wishes he could ask her. He thinks he’s seen her, once or twice, in his occasional visions that come in fast and bewildering flashes. At least he thinks it’s her. It’s a woman he has some very close connection to, a red-headed woman, who is always very sad. He wonders if she would help him. He likes to think she would. But that’s a childish fantasy, because he has no clue where to find her. He can’t reach out and try to shine every mind in the whole world to try to locate her. He needs to stick with practical ideas right now.

He’s been walking and running for three miles, the wind biting incessantly into his clothes, when he hears another car coming down the road. With the fingers of his mind, he reaches out towards the driver’s mind to tweak their perception.

But strangely, he finds he can’t. Something in the driver’s mind is pushing back, keeping a wall up so that Jackson can’t change what they see.

He feels a stab of panic. He didn’t know this was possible. He’s never seen this before. Some paranoid part of him wonders if this is the person who killed his parents.

The car is sleek and black, with mirrored windows. It slows down right next to him. Jackson looks wildly back and forth for somewhere to run and hide, just in case there is someone inside with a gun—but there is nothing around him but open land, no possible shelter for miles.

He finds himself doing nothing but standing there stupidly, an open target, his eyes widening as the window rolls down.

“Jackson Van De Kamp?” a female voice says.

“Yeah,” Jackson manages, his voice scarcely a whisper.

It’s a woman: a surprisingly young woman wearing mirrored sunglasses, her blondish hair pulled back in a ponytail. She doesn’t look like a killer. But Jackson knows very well that evil people don’t always look evil.

“It’s come to my attention that you might need some assistance.”

He can’t think of anything to do but bob his chin up and down in a nod.

“Why don’t you get in the car, and we’ll talk?”

It looks so warm inside. He has nowhere to go. She dangles the promise of information, something important he doesn’t know.

Still, some sense of self preservation keeps him from stepping forward. Desperately, he tries to noodle a shine into her mind, trying to see what she’s all about. But he can’t. It’s like it’s boarded up.

She smiles a little at him in a guarded way, not showing her teeth. He has the weirdest feeling that she knows exactly what he is trying to do.

“W-who are you?” he says hoarsely. “Do I know you?”

She sighs, as if she expected this. “If you get in the car, I promise I’ll explain, Jackson.”

He hesitates. Then, taking a deep breath, he starts to make his way toward the passenger door.

Really, what other choice does he have?

***

[giggly-squiggily]

Nailed It! (Blue Lock)

Heyo! It's been a minute since I've written for Blue Lock! After fangirling over Bachisagi with the wonderful @intheticklecloset- this fic came to be! :D I hope you like it friend! :3

Summary: Bachira finds fake nails and decides he wants claws. Shenanigans ensue.

Bachira all but threw the bag in his face the second he came in. “I bought claws!”

“Claws?” Chigiri asked once his initial shock wore off. Bachira grinned as he dug into the bag.

“CLAWS!” He cried once more, presenting the pack of stick on nails. Plain in appearance, they shined under the fluorescent lights of the facility. “See?”

“Pfft-” The redhead giggled, taking the box and examining them. “Claws indeed. Why’d you buy fake nails?”

“‘Cause.” Bachira didn’t add more, dumping the remains of his goodies across the futon. An assortment of colorful nail polish and stickies fell out. “I wanted claws!”

“....You want me to do your nails?”

“Yeah! Give me claws!”

Chigiri blinked. Then he laughed, nodding. “Alright, I’ll give you ‘claws’.” Let’s go to the cafeteria.”

~~~

Unsurprisingly, Chigiri was amazing at this stuff.

With the precision of a surgeon, he held Bachira’s hands in his own as he carefully placed each fake nail. His hair was loosely tied back, falling over his shoulder as he leaned in to check if they were straight. “Good- you don’t want these crooked- it hurts.”

“You’ve worn claws before?” Bachira smiled happily, kicking his feet under the table as he watched. His other hand was already adorned with fake nails. The urge to tap them against the table and make a clicky sound was strong, but Chigiri insisted he waited until he had them painted.

“No- I’m allergic to the adhesive. Makes my fingers turn red.” Chigiri wrinkled his nose as he adjusted the remaining finger. “My sister wears them all the time though- I used to help her out. She could never get them to stay.”

“Hm.” Bachira nodded. “Do you paint your nails?”

“Not lately. They always chipped after practice. Hopefully these will stay on.” Just before Bachria’s turn, the dribbler insisted on painting his friends. Chigiri’s fingers were now coated with a surprisingly even set of pink.

Except for his ring fingers. Those were orange. “Kuni nails.” Bachira winked, making him blush and roll his eyes.

“I’m a good claw painter! And you are too- oooo.” Bachira forgot what he was saying when the first layer of blue touched his nails. It looked so much like Isagi’s eyes. “That’s pretty!”

“You picked them out- I assume you knew what you were doing.” Chigiri gave him a teasing brow raise. Heat creeped up Bachira’s collar as he averted his gaze, watching the redhead work. “Don’t squirm- you’ll mess up the design.”

“Design-” Bachira leaned forward to look, only for Chigiri to push him back in his seat with a pointed glare. “Sorry, sorry! I didn’t know you could draw!”

“I er..can’t. I can make squiggles though.” Chigiri laughed softly, making Bachira smile. “I hope you don’t mind them.”

Bachira took his hands, posing them the way his mom did whenever she got her own nails painted. Stripes of yellow cut through the blue on his ring fingers, the rest a beautiful application of blue. Chigiri even managed to put some of the sticky gems on them, really making them pop.

“I love them!” He breathed, giggling as he hugged the other. “Thanks Chi-Chi! I’m gonna wear them forever!”

“Heh, no problem. C-Careful, they’re not dry yet!” Chigiri called after him as Bachira ran off, giggling the entire time.

He couldn’t WAIT to show Isagi!

~~~

“Look look! My claws!” Bachira shoved them in pretty much everyone’s face, wiggling his fingers for the full effect. As soon as they were dry he was waving them around, clicking them against water bottles and anything that would make noise. Kunigami jokingly told him he should do ASMR with them- Bachira tried but was far too loud right off the bat.

“Wow, look at those. They’re pretty!” Isagi giggled as he took Bachira’s hands, taking them in. “Chigiri painted them for you?”

“No, I did.” Raichi called out, earning a small burst of giggles from the others. His own nails were painted black- courtesy of said redhead. “I’ll do yours next, Isagi. Give me your digits!”

Isagi rolled his eyes as he turned back to Bachira, finding him no longer there. “Bachi-”

Something blunt but ticklish trailed against his neck. He shuttered with a sharp yelp, diving forward. “Ahah!”

Silence, the rest of Team Z looking at him with looks of both curiosity and amusement. Isagi felt his face burn.

“Ooo…” Bachira cooed from behind, something dangerous in his tone. “Was that…”

Isagi had two options. Stay and take it or run and get it anyway.

He opted for the latter.

“Isagi!” Bachira called after him as he took off, flying over futons and people as he bolted out the door, the dribbler hot on his trail. “Come back here!”

Nope, no way! Not happening! It was bad enough that Bachira knew his worst tickle spots. With those nails…

He was gonna kill Chigiri. He’ll plan his revenge later.

For now, he needed to RUN-

A dead end! He turned with wide eyes as Bachira began a slow ascent, glittery nails wiggling with devious intent. “Isagi~”

He looked both ways, knowing it was useless. Bachira had him cornered. “Bachira! Bachira- now wahahit just a mohohment!”

“No can do! The monster’s telling me to get you, so here I COME!” Bachira charged, easily trapping his boyfriend against the wall as his fingers skittered and danced against the exposed skin of his neck. “Tickle tickle tickle!”

“AH! Ahehahahahahhaha! Bahahhachihihihirahahha! Heahhahahahahha!” The other boy squealed as he sank to the floor, half trapped by Bachira’s legs as the other pressed into him. Those dastardly nails danced against his skin, sending waves of sensitivity across his nerves. “Wahahahahait, wahahhait- thhehehehey’ll fahahhahahall oohohohohohofff!”

“Silly Isagi- I know they will! That just means I’m gonna have to use them to their fullest potential!” Bachira giggled, tugging his boyfriend gently until he was half-lying, half sitting up against the wall. As he went down, a strip of skin revealed itself, giving Bachira a new opening.

“Bahahahachi- Bahahchi- WHAHAHHAIT!” The brunette all but shrieked when Bachira’s new “claws” found the soft skin of his waist, gently tracing the skin along his lower ribs and sending him through the roof. “DOOHOHOHON’T NOOHOHOHT TEHEHEHEHERE!”

“Oo, someone’s ticklish! Tell me- does it tickle more or less with the nails?” The bob-cutted player snickered as he stuck a hand up Isagi’s sweatshirt, clawing at his skin as Isagi squealed and thrashed against the floor. “I bet it’ll tickle way more if I do this~” He dragged them slowly, watching as his boyfriend arched and wheezed at the feeling. “Am I right, Blue Skies?”

“BAAHAHCHIHIHIHIRAHHAHA! GEHAHAHAH PLEHAHAHHASE!” Isagi was sure he was going to die- he was starting to see stars and his body felt light. If he were being honest, he didn’t mind it all that much.

Then Bachira yelped and pulled his hands away and his ascend to the afterlife came to an abrupt halt. “Ehehehahha..yohoohu gohohohod?” He gasped out, hands coming around his belly as he weakly looked up.

“Ow…I didn’t realize that would hurt.” Bachira moaned, rubbing his fingers. Two of his fake nails had popped off, and a third was hanging on by a few strands of glue. “My claws..”

Isagi sat up with some effort, taking in the dribbler’s hands. Gently, he took them in his own, rubbing soothing circles against the aching fingers. “Sorry they popped off. They were cool while they lasted, though.”

“Hmm.” Bachira nodded, sounding a bit glum. Isagi smiled as he brought his hand to his lips, kissing the dribbler’s bruising fingers. The gesture was enough to shock him out of his pout.

“There. All better.” Isagi grinned after kissing the last of his fingers, scrunching his face up when he got a taste of nail polish. “Gross- how do people eat with this stuff on? I feel like it’d make everything taste weird.”

Bachira stared at him. Then he busted out laughing, falling against Isagi’s shoulder. “Ehehehhe! I lohohove you so much, Bluuhue skies!” He pulled back until he and Isagi were face to face, their foreheads pressed together as he gave him the sweetest of smiles. “Do you want me to kiss it all better?”

Isagi only laughed, nodding as he closed his eyes, Bachira’s lips capturing his own soon after.

Thanks for reading!

[valluvsberries]

“I won’t let you fall! I promise!”

Max mayfield x fem!reader #✧!

Warnings!: kissing! 💋

Summary !: Max teaches you how to skateboard!��🍓

it was cool autumn day in Hawkins, Indiana. y/n was with her best friend, Max. they were in Max’s room eating all sorts of candy that they got from trick or treating. just as y/n was talking, max glanced over at her skateboard that was leaned up against the wall then back to y/n’s pretty face. an idea instantly popped up in the redheads mind.

“then I was all like-.” “wanna learn how to skate board?”

“Huh?” the y/h/c haired girl asked the redhead in confusion.

“I said ‘’wanna learn how to skateboard’’. I could teach you..!” The redhead repeated and put a skittles in her mouth.

“uh-.” The next thing y/n knew, the two were both outside in front of Max’s house. Max set down the skateboard onto the pavement.

“I don’t know, Max..What if I fall?” Asked y/n. A hint of worry in her expression.

“I won’t let you fall! I promise!” Said Max with a grin as she urged y/n to go on the skateboard.

“plus! I will be right beside you the whole time! you’ve got nothing to worry about.” She adds.

y/n nods slowly and hesitantly gets onto the skateboard, wobbling as she does so.

“Oh my god…oh my god..” y/n muttered as she unconsciously grabbed max’s hand. max felt her face heat up and her heart skip a beat at the sudden contact but brushed it off.

The redhead chuckles. "See! You're doing great so far! Now just push off." Max said as she watched the y/h/c girl beside her.

y/n carefully pushes off, gripping Max’s hand tighter as she felt herself wobble. Max tried to focus on helping y/n not fall off but she couldn’t help but move her gaze to y/n’s face. She would be lying if she said she didn’t have a thing for the girl. y/n was an absolutely mesmerizing in her eyes. The way her e/c eyes shined in the sun. Max’s most favourite part about y/n though was her lips. Her soft, pink lips. She loved the way they would curl into that pretty smile of hers whenever she was happy. Max always wondered what it would feel like to have her lips on-

“AHH-!” Was heard from the y/h/c haired girl as she fell off the skate, bringing the redhead down with her.

Max let out a yelp and fell down with the girl. Max felt something land on top of her once she reached the ground. She hesitantly opened her eyes to see y/n on top of her. The redheads cheeks felt like they were on fire as they turned a bright red. y/n didn’t look any better though as her cheeks were also bright red. The two stared at each other, no words coming out of either of their mouths. Max couldn’t help but gaze at y/n’s lips. They looked so soft and pink. Max bit the inside of her cheek nervously, not saying anything. But just as y/n was going to say something, she was almost immediately cut off by the redhead smashing her lips against hers. Y/n let out a surprised gasp before kissing back softly. Max didn’t want this moment to end. She finally got to know what it felt like to kiss y/n. And it felt good. More than good actually. Max would say it felt amazing. y/n pulls away with red cheeks, her eyes wide, her expression almost confused as to what just happened. Max didn’t look any better than y/n did though. She as well had red flushed cheeks and looked almost scared to hear what y/n would say.

“What the hell just happened.” y/n said as she looked at max. blushing furiously. Max chuckled.

“I kissed you, silly” max said, trying to act like it was nothing. But it was obviously something to her. She finally kissed you for gods sake!

“God..well I know that…but why? Why’d you kiss me?”

Max felt her heart beat quicken as y/n asked her that. The redhead said the first thing that came to her mind…

“Cuz I like you. Duh.”

Y/n’s eyes widened as max said that.

“Oh..well..what if I told you that I like you too…”

SORRY I HAVEN’T POSTED IN SO LONG!

I’ve been meaning to but haven’t found the time to post!😞

but here I am! With another Max mayfield imagine.!

Too lazy to proof read😋

Max is bae.😛

[ssweeterthanfiction]

Wait for your love.

Content Warnings (for throughout the story not much this chapter tho): Mentions of alcohol and drugs, mental health issues, parental issues, age-gap, billy dunne being toxic but we love him🫶🏼

↳ currently playing ;

New Girl - 1976

0:56 ——•———————— 3:24

↺       <<          ll          >>     ⋮≡

In the spring of ‘76, a new face emerged on the music scene. With a unique, angelic voice, it didn’t take long for her song “supernatural” to blow up. And now, freshly off a plane from New York to L.A, she was ready to take a chance at stardom.

Karen: “Oh yea, we had all heard of her. She has a great voice, a great look, personality, she’s just a really good person.”

Eddie: “Hm? Oh, her…yea she was great. Talented singer, yea…”

Graham: “Warren said he had known her as a kid, no one believed him of course.”

Warren: “I’ve known her since forever. Our moms used to be really good friends. Met in college I think. But yea, really talented girl.”

Daisy: “Fucking amazing. Super talented, and just such a beautiful person to be around.”

Billy: “She’s great, talented, pretty. There really isn’t enough words to describe her. But she is…something.”

Graham: “We were working on the new album, and with Daisy as the new edition, things were going…semi-smoothly. Til the label said we should add a feature. Billy of course didn’t think we needed another edition, but everyone else as always went against what he thought. And Warren said he knew someone that would be perfect. After one phone call, he said we had our feature, and that she would be arriving in a few days…That next afternoon she walked into the studio…and I’m not going to lie…I thought Priscilla fucking Presley had walked into our studio.”

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

It was a warm spring day. The skies were clear and the sun shined brightly. You stood outside of the studio, your future in the industry relied on this feature. At least that’s what you told yourself.

Taking a deep breath, smoothing out your dress, you walked in. Looking around for a second you took in the new environment. Then you saw the band. Daisy Jones and The Six. Shaking off your nerves you walked over to them. Right as you were about to say something. The guitarist looked at you. “You lost sweetheart?” he said as he put his guitar down.

“I don’t think I am. This is the Six’s studio right?” you say looking around again. “I’m (y/n), Warren called me for-“

“(y/n)!” Warren called out, walking over to you and giving you a hug. “I didn’t think you’d be here so soon.” laughing as he ruffles your hair. “Well when you called it sounded urgent so I hopped on the first flight out.” you say, nudging his arm away.

Warren rolls his eyes and laughs. “Well let me introduce you to everybody, this is Graham, that’s Karen, Eddie, Daisy’s over there, and Billy…is somewhere around here.” You smile at everyone. “It’s so nice to meet you all, I can’t wait to work with you guys.”

It all felt right to you. This feature is what was going to bring you to fame.

“You’re the girl that wrote ‘supernatural’, right?” you hear Karen say. “Yes, yes I did” you say proudly. “It’s a great song, you’ve got a great voice” she says with a smile.

You felt happy. This. This is what you’ve wanted your whole life. To be known for your music. And right as you were about to thank her, a man in an all denim outfit walked into the room. It was clear he was hungover or something.

“Look who finally decided to show up.” you hear Eddie mumble under his breath. “Fuck you say Roundtree?” the man says as he glares at Eddie. Eddie scoffs and rolls his eyes, clearly not wanting to argue. “That’s what I thought.” the man says. Finally, he acknowledges your presence. He looks at you up and down, going from your white gogo boots to your eyes. You felt a weird feeling in your stomach. You couldn’t tell if it was butterflies or if it was something else, you felt drawn to him. But some little voice in your head was screaming that this was bound to go wrong.

“(y/n), this is Billy Dunne, Graham’s brother. Billy, this is (y/n)(l/n), our new feature.” Warren says as he lights a cigarette.

Billy looks you up and down again. “This is our new feature?” he says, skepticism filling his voice. “We’re writing a rock album, not pop.” He walks closer to you, the smell of alcohol, cigarettes, and cologne radiating off of him. Warren takes a drag of his cigarette. “Give her a chance, she has a great voice.”

Billy looked irritated, he already had to add Daisy as an official member, and now here you were. He rolls his eyes. “Fine whatever” he mutters under his breath.

Just like that, you were officially going to be a feature for their album. And now you were a part of the life of Billy fucking Dunne.

Finally the first chapter is up!! I hope u guys liked it, (ik it’s not the best but i’m going to get better trust🙏) took me a while to get it up because I just kept trying to figure out how to like set the stage but I figured this would be the best way. Anyways apologies for it being so short and for taking so long to upload it but next chapter should be a tad bit longer since you guys will get to see the interviews from reader :) but yea hope u guys enjoyed 🫶🏼

btw does anyone have any idea at what kinda nickname to give reader? i cannot think of anything😭 if u guys have any ideas send me them through my asks! (i think it’s open)

[sukunasbow]

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 - ( 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐦 𝐝𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐞 ! )

synopsis -> in which you mess up and accidentally reveal your relationship !

warnings -> lots of fluff, reader is in the band, slight karen x reader if u squint, not yet proof read !

You’re awakened by the sounds of birds humming a tune, the sunlight shining through the thin white curtains in your room. “Morning.” You mumble, rolling over to face your boyfriend. “Good morning.” He says, a smile on his face. “Can I borrow this?” You sit up slightly, grabbing Graham’s shirt. “Yeah, sure.” He nods. “Alright, let’s get up, I’m hungry.” You yawn, stretching before crawling out of bed and exiting the room quietly, trying not to get caught by anyone. “Clear.” You whisper, signalling for Graham to exit after you. It’s not like you’re ashamed of him. How could you ever be ashamed of dating someone like Graham Dunne? It’s just that you’re not ready to announce your relationship, as you don’t want the band to break up if anything goes wrong between the two of you. Although, you’re starting to feel guilty about hiding it.

Without even thinking about your outfit, the shirt from Graham and sweatpants, you walk into the kitchen, everyone immediately turning to stare at you. “What? Is my hair messy? I just woke up, asshats.” You groan, moving towards the fridge and grabbing the jug of orange juice. “No, it’s just..” Eddie tries to hold in his laughter. “Just what?” You hum, pouring the juice into a small glass, then taking a sip and going to sit with everyone. “Is that-” Warren starts, “Graham’s shirt?” Karen finishes his sentence for him, her eyes widening. “What?” You immediately look down at your shirt, originally not aware that they knew it was his, as it was a pretty plain shirt. “How do you know this is his? It could be, like, Eddie’s!” You scoff, Eddie immediately shaking his head. “Graham always wears that to bed.” Karen debunks your suggestion, a tint of jealousy in her tone. “True.” Graham walks into the kitchen, a smirk on his face. “Ugh, I hate you all.” You drink more of your juice, avoiding the prying eyes. “God, you’re having sex with my brother?” Billy walks into the room, pretending to gag. “What the fuck?!” You nearly choke on your juice, “I’m moving out.” You add. As you and the others continue the banter, you fail to notice a certain pair of eyes on you. Your best friend’s eyes. “That’s it!” You start, “Yes, me and Graham are dating.” You roll your eyes. “I win! Pay up!” Warren laughs, gesturing for Eddie to give him some cash. “Wow, you really made a bet and didn’t invite me on it?” Billy glares at them. “Seriously?” Your lips fall into a line, an unamused expression your face, Graham trying to hold back his laughter. “You’re all childish.” You snatch a piece of toast off of Eddie’s plate. “Oh, we’re joking, you guys are cute together.” Billy grins. “Well, thank you.” You mumble, chewing on the toast. “Yeah, really cute.” Karen nods. Graham moves towards your chair and leans on it, kissing your cheek.

[ladylooch]

Has any of the kids cockblocked their parents ? If feel like there's so many babies, that's kinda inevitable! 😂😂

-🇧🇷

All the time! But I want to talk about the time Lexi and Nico didn’t hear their daughter come in.

Lucie Hischer really wants a cinnamon roll like her mom promised the night before. Her little alarm light on the night stand had started to shine green one minute ago. She expected to smell cinnamon rolls wafting from down stairs when she opened her bedroom door. She didn’t. She huffs, feeling her stomach rumble with discomfort as she heads down the hallway to her parent’s closed bedroom door.

Behind that bedroom door, Nico is buried deep between Lexi’s thighs, having sweet, erotic morning sex with the love of his life. Lexi and Nico smooch at each other, tongues melding together with each of Nico’s presses deep into her heat. 

“Baby.” Nico moans as she pulses around his hard length. “Fuck.” He moans.

“That’s a bad word.” Lucie says where she is next to the bed. Lexi and Nico both startle. Lexi tugs the comforter higher up Nico’s body. She is pretty sure it covered him completely already, but panic forces her fingers deeper into the cloth.

“Ah, baby. Um. Already green?” Nico sputters in broken English. Lucie nods curiously.

“What are you doing?” She wonders, tilting her head to the side. She steps forward.

“No sweets!” Nico reaches out, then retracts his hand, not wanting to touch his daughter while still being buried in his wife. “Lex help.” Nico mutters, dropping his forehead to her shoulder.

“We are snuggling.”

“I want to snuggle too!” Lucie comes closer still. Nico pulls out of Lexi, flopping onto the sheets, trying to smoother his hard erection. He mentally adds washing the sheets to the top of his to-do list today. Lexi tugs Nico’s big shirt on her frame further down her thighs, curling their daughter into her opposite side as Nico gets adjusted. He grabs his underwear from the bottom of the bed with his feet, then quickly pulls them back up his legs. He shares a look with his wife who cringes, shaking her head while laughing into Lucie’s hair. 

“Snuggling?”

“I panicked.” She admits, cringing. Lucie’s favorite thing is cuddling with her parents. That was bound to end like this.

“You said I could have cinnamon rolls. I want them now.” Lucie whines, a slight pout on her little lips.

“You’re right, I did.”

“You need to add in a please to that.” Nico mutters to his daughter. Her brown eyes look at him innocently. She scrunches her nose at his subtle discipline. 

“Pleaaaaase.” She extends the word, batting her lashes. 

“She get that from you.”

“Oh please. That is Auntie Em.” Lexi squeezes her daughter tight to her chest, then sits up, putting Lucie back on her little feet. Luc jumps up and down, bouncing to the door. “You go down, LuLu. I’ll be right there.”

“Okay!” She sings.

“She didn’t seem to notice?” Nico questions, pulling the comforter back and chuckling at the white, damp spots on the sheets from him. Lexi chuckles. 

“Trauma averted.” 

“Barely.” Nico murmurs, beginning to strip the bed. Lexi pulls her pajama pants back on. “Hey,” he reaches for his wife’s arm before she leaves the room. “We aren’t done with that.” 

“Tonight. Let’s get her really tired and share a bath.”

Nico loves his daughter, but he already can’t wait for her to go to sleep tonight.