#it's one of my favorite prologues anyway so it works out

[samsheughan]

“I've never been afraid of ghosts. I live with them daily, after all. When I look in a mirror, my mother's eyes look back at me; my mouth curls with the smile that lured my great-grandfather to the fate that was me.”

CLAIRE FRASER THROUGHOUT THE YEARS O U T L A N D E R ↳ Season 4

[nereidprinc3ss]

strange perfections

in which spencer reid and fem!reader meet by accident at a coffee shop. and then they keep meeting there. they've really got to stop meeting like this. (no, seriously. hotch is pissed.) / do you believe me now? bonus chapter!

series masterlist

fluff! warnings/tags: meet cute:) some dark humor, romantically inexperienced reader, spencer reid graduated from caltech, mit, and the derek morgan school of rizz a/n: this can absolutely be read as a standalone BUT it was written as a prologue for my series do you believe me now? to explain how spencer and r met! completely optional, if you're only here for the smut no worries! reading this bonus chapter might make the next chapter better though as it contains discussions of how they met:) anyway, I LOVE YOU!! let me know if you like this silly little random thing! kisses

The café door opens again. A blustery wind raises goosebumps on your arms and makes your bones ache again. You look up at the latest intruder—a hobbling elderly man in a newsboy cap and a knit red scarf. 

Stupid scarf, you think. 

Stupid door. 

Stupid wind. 

Your mug is empty, and the table you’re sitting at is sort of sticky and rickety, and there are so many papers in front of you that you wonder why the hell you thought it’d be a good idea to print the PDF out and annotate it that way instead of just doing it on your laptop like a normal person in the 21st century. Nothing is going right today. It’s the third café you’ve tried in the past few weeks as you attempt to find some place that feels homey, lucky, but this one just feels… inconvenient. 

You look at the stack of papers and sigh. 

Stupid Lord Byron. 

Stupid cafe. 

Usually, cafés are relatively quiet and peaceful—a refuge for the overworked to bask in the luxury of quiet jazz and the smell of dark roast as they continue to overwork themselves. This particular establishment, however, today hosts a group of teenagers—presumably playing hooky—who have commandeered a big booth in the back and keep walking right past your table because apparently they couldn’t have just ordered their drinks at once and they all have to do it separately and loudly. 

One of them has an incredibly irritating, gratingly pubescent laugh, and they think everything is hilarious. This whole situation is unbearable. 

Just as you’re gearing up to go, of course the fucking door opens again. This time, it’s accompanied by a particularly strong gust. 

Strong enough that Lord Byron doesn’t stand a chance. 

Your printed copy of his works blows off the table, at first page by painstakingly annotated page and then before you can even process it, all at once. 

Yeah. This is definitely not your lucky café. 

As you curse and go to stand up, you run into one of those dumb kids. His huge ceramic mug goes flying, careening against the edge of your table and completely splattering you and all your stuff in 16 liquid ounces of scalding espresso and milk. 

It’s silent for a second, save for a few drips from the puddle on your table to the floor, before the kid is apologizing profusely and turning red as a tomato. You can’t even respond—you look down at your ruined favorite sweater, and then around at the pages of Byron littered with color-coded sticky notes, overflowing with angry and purposeful red ink that you spent so much time on, scattered all over the floor. 

Eventually the boy catches on that you’re not going to forgive him and he skitters away, back to his friends, who whisper and giggle profusely. Only a few of them get up to start gathering the fallen pages with you. Several other patrons end up helping as well, so the sheets of paper are gathered and returned into your sticky hands fairly quickly. You thank each person without looking up as they hand you their respective stack. All you want is to get out of here. 

“Here—I’m really sorry about this,” someone says—a tenor-ish male voice, distinctly sympathetic as he holds out a rather larger stack of papers than anyone else had bothered to pick up. 

“I’ll live,” you sigh, straightening up. “But thank… you.”

The man standing in front of you is the kind of man who makes you want to untuck your hair from its usual spot behind your ears, and to stand up straighter, and to try and not stare even though you want his attention. He’s gloriously beautiful in a way that repels and attracts you. He’s the type of man who wouldn’t have given you the time of day in high school and probably wouldn’t now. Instantly you feel both insecure and reduced to a former version of you who would simper and fawn over boys who wanted nothing to do with her. You feel like going to the other side of the café and sitting in the best light and staring out the window poetically and hoping he’s looking at you. 

“On the one hand, I feel bad for being the person who opened the door and let the wind in. On the other… I feel compelled to say at least they’re not covered in coffee like the rest of your table is?”

You laugh vacantly, a second too late, positively coveting the awkward smile on his angular face. Then you make eye contact, and his eyes are so the opposite of angular—they’re huge and inviting and the warmest golden-brown you’ve ever seen, and they’re looking right back at you—and you have to look down. Fuck. You hate when you do that. 

Think of something normal to say!

“Yeah, true. Now I just have to reorder 264 pages. That… that don’t have page numbers.”

You shuffle through the papers. They are hopelessly scrambled. Your heart sinks just a bit.

“Um… I might actually be able to help with that, if you want?”

You frown, glancing up. What kind of sex trafficking ploy is this?

“That’s okay. Might be easier with just one person.”

He laughs—it’s similarly awkward, similarly endearing. 

“Do you mind letting me just… try? It’ll only take a minute.”

Only take a minute? Is this beautiful man deranged? Why are the hot ones always crazy?

But, perhaps because you’re a pushover who can’t stand up to people, much less beautiful people, much less beautiful men who are paying you undue attention, you find yourself giving in. You hold the stack out. 

“Sure. Give it your best shot. I’ll be impressed if you can even figure out what page one is.”

He’s already flipping through the papers with a drawn brow, walking away with them, and barely looking over his shoulder as he mutters, “I have Byron memorized. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”

You follow him, because hello, he has all your annotations. He’s definitely insane, you think, as he sits down at a table and starts rapidly sorting the sheets into separate piles. 

All you can do is stand awkwardly behind him as he stacks papers seemingly at random, barely glancing at them before deciding where they go. 

Maybe a minute, maybe a few go by, each of which have you progressively more flabbergasted, before he’s tapping the edges of a stack of paper on the table and standing, handing them to you with his lips pressed into a thin pleasant line. There’s almost a glow about him—like he couldn’t be more in his comfort zone. 

“There you go. Should be in order now.” You sport a frown bordering on a grimace as you take the stack and flip through it a bit. Sure enough, it seems that everything is in order. You keep looking between the man in front of you and the papers, incredulous as you wait for something to be in the wrong spot. 

“How did you do that?” 

His cheeks turn slightly pink. 

“I know Byron really well. I know how each passage ends and begins so I put them together like puzzle pieces.”

“How did you read that fast?”

“Uh. I’m a speed-reader?”

You scoff, taking another look through the stack. 

“I think that may be underselling it.” A thought occurs to you as you’re grazing over one of your longer annotations—full of expletives and strong opinions. “Oh, god. You didn’t… you didn’t read my notes?”

The man’s eyebrows raise as if he was waiting for you to mention that and he smiles like he doesn’t quite know how to break it to you gently. 

“Maybe a few,” he eventually decides, laughing under his breath. “I appreciated the commentary on his relationship with Augusta. It was… colorful.”

Heat rises in your cheeks as you mumble. 

“Yeah, I had a hard time appreciating the romantic poems. They’re less cute when there’s like a fifty percent chance he’s writing about his sister.”

“Half sister,” he corrects. You give him a look. 

“Does that make it better?”

“… no,” he realizes. “Not even a little bit.”

You laugh, relieved that his face looks as warm as yours feels. 

“Well… thank you, for the help,” you say after a silent second. 

“Of course. Sorry, again. I, um—I hope your day gets better?”

“Yeah, well. I feel like statistically it has to, right? It’s kind of a low bar.”

He smiles, a perfect, perfect smile, and gives you a little wave as he leaves. Without coffee. Checking the clock on the wall, you realize it’s approaching one in the afternoon. If he’d been here on his lunch break, he sacrificed it to organize your stupid Byron texts. You smile to yourself. 

He was totally in love with me. 

And he can’t prove me wrong because I’ll probably never see him again. 

All things considered—this coffee shop does seem pretty lucky. Maybe you’ll stick with it for a while. 

The next time you see the mysterious sexy speed reader is four days later—though you’ve been here every day since. He catches your eye right as he walks in, and his brows jump in pleasant recognition. You smile. He smiles back, before going up to the counter and ordering a coffee with a ludicrous amount of sugar in it. 

I should take note for when I make him his coffee in the mornings, you think to yourself, and then you snort at your own delusions, shaking your head at your book. Obviously you’re not that divorced from reality, but you’ll entertain the fantasy forever until one of you stops showing up to this café. 

What you’re absolutely not expecting is for him to walk up to your table with his to-go cup. 

“Hi,” he says. 

“Hi!”

Jesus. Tone it down, girl scout. 

He gestures to your stack of papers: now secured in a three ring binder. The cup says Spencer. 

Spencer. Spencer. 

It feels important. 

“I see you’ve upgraded.”

“Yes! Yes, I did,” you laugh self-consciously, still struggling to meet his eyes. “Thank you for the help the other day. I would still be sorting through all of this if it weren’t for that, so… yeah. Thanks.”

“Of course! I’m glad I could be of use.”

“Spence!” Someone calls from the cafe door. You both look up to see a stunning blonde beckoning him away. 

Ah. Naturally. The girlfriend who is one trillion times prettier than you. 

Spence. 

Reality sets in. 

“Coming!” He replies, with all the eager compliance of a child, before turning back to you. “Um… well… I’ll see you?”

It’s an awkward way to say goodbye to a stranger, but you suddenly don’t care enough to dwell. Instead you nod once, less enthusiastic now that you know he has a 10 waiting for him on the sidewalk. 

“I am a creature of habit.”

Another wave as he walks away. 

The two disappear from the doorway, but the perpetual breeze seems to carry a snatched bit of conversation your way. 

“Who was that?” 

“Uh… I don’t actually know.”

Yeah. Reality definitely sets in. 

Over the next few days, you break your café streak. Life is busy. There’s not always time to artfully ponder Romantic poetry and drink a six dollar coffee while waiting around for certain people to show up. 

Okay, so… maybe it has more to do with him than you’re letting on. But you’re not going to do that thing you do again, where you become limerently obsessed with a man you don’t know and who is way out of your league just because you can’t form an actual attachment to anyone to save your life. Besides, you remind yourself; we probably wouldn’t be compatible anyway. He’s probably a huge loser. Or secretly a douche. Or chews with his mouth open. Obviously nobody that attractive can also have a good personality. 

Not to mention he has a girlfriend. That should put you off, too.

But you hadn’t been lying when you’d proclaimed to be a creature of habit—you return to the café once you feel sufficiently detached from this Spencer character. 

He’s there. Of course he’s there. Why had you been expecting for him to not be there? It’s not like he was a figment of your imagination. 

This time he’s accompanied by a different blonde woman—a bespectacled blonde with a big floral headband and a patterned dress and a red cardigan and tights and heels that look self-injurious. She’s quite eye-catching; you want to keep looking at her, but you seem to draw her attention, too. Her big eyes widen minutely and briefly you wonder if you’re supposed to know her, but certainly you’d remember meeting a person like that. She doesn’t seem easily forgettable. Both of you look to Spencer at the same time, who’s looking between you with an almost panicked expression. 

“Oh! Th—” the woman whispers, cutting herself off when she realizes how loud she’s being in the otherwise silent establishment. “Ah! Okay, right. Never mind.”

 Spencer sighs. You want to laugh, but you’re baffled by the whole thing. So you go back to reading. 

Ten minutes later, they draw your attention once more. 

“Go, go ahead! It’s more problematic for you to be late than me. I’ll be like, thirty seconds tops.”

You don’t look up as Spencer leaves the café—but are you supposed to gather that these two eccentric individuals are coworkers? And what of the first blonde woman, who you’d presumed to be his girlfriend? Where is she?

While you’re wondering all of this, the new blonde teeters her way over to your table. 

“Hi!” She says pleasantly, waving a purple-tipped hand and wearing the biggest grin. 

“Uh… hi?”

“I’m Penelope. You’ve met my friend Spencer. He just left.”

“Oh—sort of,” you smile weakly, closing your book. “Not formally. I didn’t know his name.”

That’s a lie, but maybe feigning non-chalance will make it real. 

“Well, I just wanted to come over and say I love your bag. And your jewelry and your coat. I love your whole look. I bet you’re a really cool person.”

“Um—thank you!” You perk up, smiling genuinely now. The compliment warms you—you didn’t think your look was all that interesting today. “You too. I love your outfit.”

“Great! You’re—you’re great. This is good information. Um… just out of, like, sheer curiosity, could I get your name, age, and occupation? Oh—and your zodiac sign?”

What kind of convoluted sex trafficking ploy—

“Garcia!”

Spencer is at the doorway again, looking adorably miffed. 

Adorable? Get a grip. 

“Wh—I’m just making a new friend! Is friendship illegal, now?”

“This is the kind of friend-making that gets you a restraining order,” he urges. 

You look up at Penelope Garcia, enamored by their whole dynamic. They clearly care for each other, despite the squabbling. What kind of job do they have where they talk to each other like this?

“It’s fine,” you smile, introducing yourself to her.

“That is such a good name!” She says, and you’re getting the sense she’s kind of always this enthusiastic. “So now we know each other’s names—we should probably definitely be friends, right?”

“Yeah! Um, definitely!”

“Yes? Oh my god! I love this! Okay, um—we work at Quantico, so, we’re like, 10 minutes away—but this is better than the coffee shop that’s closest to the building, so we come here all the time. Usually it’s just us and five grouchy old men, which makes this is really exciting.”

“Quantico… that’s the FBI academy, right?”

“Other stuff, too,” she nods, still smiley. 

Oh! Cool. So they’re FBI agents. 

So that’s cool. 

You’re cool with that. 

Her phone starts ringing—she locks eyes with Spencer. 

“Hotch?”

“Ooh, we are in trouble,” Penelope sing-songs, leaning down to write her number on your notebook without asking. Not that you mind, of course. She adds a little heart and a smiley face next to her name before capping your pen and toddling away. “Bye, new friend!” She calls over her shoulder, waving goodbye with just her fingers. 

“Bye,” you manage, though it’s probably too quiet. 

Spencer flattens his mouth into an approximation of a smile and waves again. 

You accidentally find yourself mirroring his goodbye, facial expression and all. Fuck. You hope he doesn’t notice. You hope he doesn’t read into it. 

Nah. Boys are dumb. 

You text Penelope later that afternoon—a simple greeting so that she can save your number—and then you forget about it. 

It’s not until five days go by without sign of any of them—the two blondes, Spencer, this mysterious and foreboding Hotch figure—that you start to seriously question your sanity. Did they drop off the face of the planet, or what?

But of course, just as you’re sitting at your usual table, Spencer walks in. Alone. 

He sees you immediately, but instead of the wave you’d come to expect, he immediately flushes, looks down at his shoes and hurries into the small lunch-rush line. 

Weird.

You corner him at the coffee bar, where he’s adding more sugar to his coffee. How are his teeth so nice if he does this to himself every single day?

“Hey,” you say, affecting casual confidence as you bus your empty mug. “… Spencer, right?”

It’s comical how you’re pretending you haven’t turned that name over and looked at it from every angle hundreds of times since the first time you heard it. 

He nods, only glancing up at you as he stirs. To your surprise, he knows your name, too. When you give him an odd look, he smiles almost apologetically, finally looking at your face for longer than half a second. 

“I heard you introducing yourself to Penelope. Sorry if that’s…”

“No, no! Is she around, today? I texted her last week, but she never responded...”

��Today is operating system update day, so I don’t even really have a way of knowing if she’s alive in her office.” It’s funny to him, but you just smile, baffled. He notices your silence and catches on, scrambling to explain himself. “She’s our tech analyst. There are 243 computers in our building and she has to update them all remotely, which requires getting every agent to agree to not touch their computer at the same time for an hour or so.”

“Oh… does the FBI not have, like… an IT guy, or something?”

He laughs again—the way his eyes crinkle when he does it makes you a little breathless. 

“You should say that to her. I think you would become her favorite person.”

It’s hard not to smile when he’s smiling because of you—however indirectly that may be. Quickly you realize you’ve both been standing in front of the coffee bar for too long. 

“Alright, well… tell her good luck, for me?”

“I would, but I’ve been kicked out for an hour while she does the updates.”

Your brow furrows and you laugh. 

“From the whole building? You just can’t keep your hands off your computer for an hour?”

“Not if I want to do my job, no. And I am kind of obsessive about my job. I’ve been the reason she had to start the whole process over again before and I’d rather not be that person again.”

You say it before you can think too hard. 

“Well, if you have an hour to kill… there’s an open seat at my table? No pressure, obviously.”

And that was the first of thousands of hours you would come to spend with Spencer Reid. 

After that, it sort of becomes a regular thing. He comes almost every day—except for occasional week or so long stretches, which you have discovered are a part of his absolutely fucking insane job—and sits with you, sometimes with Penelope, once with the other blonde, JJ, who you’ve since deduced is not his girlfriend, most often alone. Usually he can’t spare more than ten minutes, but he begins pushing it, little by little, until thirty minutes go by and you think surely his boss (the great and all-powerful Hotchner) must be beginning to notice. 

One day, during your usual lunchtime rendezvous, his phone rings. He talks right on through it, like it’s not happening.

It ceases. And then it starts again. 

Your head drops to your shoulder, something like pity or regret softening your features. He catches your eye and melts slightly, mid-sentence—like he knows you’re about to tell him to be responsible. 

“Do you think you should…”

His hands drop from where they’d been enthusiastically positioned mid-air. 

“They’ll be fine if I’m late from lunch one time. I’m usually more punctual than any of them.”

You roll your lip between your teeth—it’s not that you want to tell him to go; in fact, those delusions you’ve been harboring about your future life together are only getting worse with each inexplicable minute he entertains your company. 

But his job is important. 

“What if you have a case?”

“Then I would have gotten more calls from more people by now.”

Your head tips back as you laugh lightly at his unwavering insistence.   

“I’m flattered that you so enjoy my company that much. But I can’t with good conscience keep taking up your work hours like this.”

As the laughter fades, he just… watches you, lips slightly parted, eyes intense but not entirely present. 

“You’re probably right,” he finally breathes. “Maybe… you should start taking up my other hours, instead?”

Spencer Reid, you unexpected charmer. 

You balk.

“Like… we would hang out? At a different time of day? Not here?”

“Those are the basic premises, yes,” he chuckles, nodding affably. “I’ve never actually seen you anywhere else. For all I know you could be a ghost eternally tethered to this building.”

“Where would this hanging out take place?”

Fuck, you’re totally being weird. His brow knits. 

“I don’t know. Where else do people hang out?”

He’s not genuinely asking you, he’s gently turning you in the right direction. You charge forward blindly. 

“Restaurants.”

There’s that pretty smile of his again, the one that makes all the thoughts drain from your head like cold bathwater. Though, there’s a sort of mischievous edge to it now that you haven't seen before.

“That’s certainly an option. If I asked you to hang out with me at a restaurant... would you say yes?”

You look down. God, your face feels warm. 

“Would you be asking me out on a date? In this hypothetical scenario that we’ve constructed, I mean.”

Spencer seems to think about it for a moment, which fills you with unexpected panic. When you look back up anxiously, he has the same smile on his face, but his eyes are a little softer now. 

“I would.” 

More panic sets in—just a bit. But you don’t let what is undoubtedly a tidal wave of anxiety break through the emotional guard-dam. Keep it together. This is a good thing. This is what you wanted. 

Unfortunately, you are perhaps more transparent than you’d realized. Spencer begins to look slightly worried, leaning forward in his chair. 

“You don’t have to say yes. I know we don’t know each other very well, I just—”

“No!” You find yourself assuring him, though you curse yourself because you kind of want to know what he was going to say. “I would say yes. I’ve just, um—god,” you laugh gustily, self-consciously. “Sorry I’m being so weird. I’m out of my depth. Nobody’s asked me on a date before. I don’t really know the etiquette.”

Spencer chuckles. 

“You’re doing great. Don’t worry about it.”

Not, what?

Not, you’ve never been on a date before?

Not, that’s crazy, or that’s weird, or how have you gone your whole life without being asked out?

With the implication being, you’re odd. Different. Maybe not in a good way. 

He says none of that. 

“But I should probably actually ask you, huh?” His cheeks turn pink as his laughter is redirected inwards. 

“Sounds like a good first step.”

Spencer is still smiling as he says your name and it sounds so good from his mouth. It makes you sound so real. 

“Will you go on a date with me?”

Butterflies in your stomach doesn't begin to brush what you're experiencing—your entire abdominal cavity is like a Monarch sanctuary.

“I’d love to.”

He seems genuinely relieved as he beams, slumping back in his chair. 

“Oh, thank god. I was so nervous you’d say no. I never do that. Thank you for not saying no. Not that you couldn’t have said no—it would have been completely fine and obviously within your rights to—”

His phone rings again. Both of you are relieved that he was interrupted—but admittedly you thought his rambling was super cute. 

“I should—”

“You definitely need to go.”

“Yeah,” he agrees with a still-breathless smile. “Um—what’s your number?”

You look around fruitlessly for pen and paper. 

“I don’t—”

“Just tell me. I’ll remember.”

He’s so weird. 

A breeze hits your skin as he opens the door. You’re already writing your wedding vows in the back of your mind as you watch him go. 

-

part four

[zumicho]

home┊prologue┊002

001: iced lemon loaves & self deprecating humor

© zumicho all rights reserved. do not repost, modify, steal, plagiarize, or translate my works on any platform.

────────────────────────

cw: language, mentions “maul” “die” & sexual jokes

“do you not have any friends?” a tousled head of dirty blond stands before you, his toned arms crossed over his chest. it’s only been five minutes; he’s already cutting five years off of your lifespan.

there’s a heartbreaker kind of look in his eyes that warns you to avoid him. you ignore it. “that’s an odd question to ask a stranger.” he’s not your type anyway; it doesn’t matter how much he pesters you.

“we don’t have to be strangers.” he stretches his hand out. “I’m miya atsumu, and my friend thinks you’re hot.” friendly (suspicious), you shake it.

“you or your friend?”

as he opens his mouth to reply, the door chimes cut him off. three people walk in. one is trailing behind the two—defeated, like he’s failed a mission. you look at the one that talked to you, and then to him. twins, you note. this one’s got better hair.

there’s a reserved figure that walks ahead of them with an air of authority around him. the captain? you wonder, noticing the sport uniforms. he bows at you politely. you like this one.

“don’t listen to him.” the third person speaks up, and your mouth goes agape. he’s gorgeous. “sorry on his behalf.” he’s perfect.

“do you all play soccer or something?” you wince at their reactions.

“volleyball, actually.” — twin #1.

“oh! my bad!!!” you pale. god. “that’s cool. cool cool cool. cool.”

“cool with you if we get something to eat?” god’s favorite teases, all the others staring at you both. your ears turn a deeper shade of red each second.

“..huh?” you blank.

“oh. RIGHT. um, what can I get you?” you want to crawl in a hole and die, but hiding behind the counter will do for now.

you hear crickets as atsumu opens his mouth. “your number?”

“for suna here.” he adds as he gestures.

he clearly can handle himself, “ignore him. I’m not in the market for any relationships. nor am I interested.”

miya glares at him. “that’s mean, man. she looks disappointed.”

“I’m not.” you correct. “even if I was, it’s not like I’d have a chance.” your lips move faster than your brain.

“talk about self deprecating humor.” gray-haired twin #2 smiles at you, considerate. that lets your shoulders relax a bit.

“this is all really awkward,” suna says, “but we could really use some cupcakes or something.”

the captain steps up, and you maybe unintentionally notice that suna’s the tallest. “can we please get those cookies that were on twitter? if it’s not a problem.” he’s formal.

“sure. how many?”

“four.” the twins echo.

“make that three.” — s

you look up at him, confused. “you don’t want anything?”

“those look good.”

you follow his line of sight, and grin. iced lemon loaves.

“yeah. good pick.”

────────────────────────

author’s note: i made tsumu the punchline / punching bag in this au but oh well 😭 it had to be someone 😭 i also hate writing the embarassed / nervous character SO MUCH i cringe while i write.. i really don’t like this episode but idk what about my writing irks me here and IDK WHAT TO CHANGEEE i need 2 learn how to write dialogue better cause im DYINGGGGHHH OVER HERE

@phoenix-eclipses @thechaosoflonging @yuminako @nbcvs @tenjikusstuff4 @intergalacticrory @sonicsolos @yenonnoff @wyrcan @cnnmairoll @causenessus @reads-stuff-quietly @giocriedpower @applepi25 @gra-eae @lilchubbyyy @thvvluvr @toges-cough-syrup

[scarletwinterxx]

just like you - dad mark lee scenario

hello ~ and we're back with another dad mark scenario. I'm so happy a lot of you seem to like this series as much as I do🥺 also, this isn't written in a particular order, I just write it based on requests/or whichever timeline the scene fits in. anyways, I hope you like it!

alsooooo I'm going to see 127 again next week😭🥺 so expect me to be in my feels again for the next few weeks hahah

if you have a request or scenario you want me to do, just send me a message I'll see what I can do😊💌

part1: day with dad mark lee

part2: another day with dad mark lee

part3: a day with the lee's

part4: (prologue) i don't know how to make eggs

part5: glitter pens and goodnight kisses with the Lee's

part6: first love and kisses

part7: naps and baby kicks

part8: then there was three

part9: just like you

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"The kids are doing alright, Minjung is loving the music lessons. Minjee, well she's causing all kinds of trouble" you tell your dad thru the phone, he laughs heartily hearing about how his grandkids are doing

"You and Mark doing okay?" he asks

"Yep, he's actually home now. He took Minjung to piano lessons earlier so it's just us three at home"

"How about you, are you okay? Not to tired?" he asks you, even now your dad still babies you. This made you smile, imagining one day this will me Minjee and Mark.

"I'm good, I'm great. I'll call again okay? You and mom take care" you say a few more words before hanging up. You walked back downstairs to see Mark and Minjee in the living room, some cartoon was playing on the TV and both father and daughter is busy watching to notice you.

You sat down next to Mark, catching both of their attentions. Minjee smiles at you, the same way Mark did. They really do look alike.

"Your dad okay?"

"Yep, he was just asking how we're doing" You smile at him, cuddling his side.

"You know I just thought one day that's going to be you and Minjee"

Mark sits up straight making you sit up too. The little Lee looks up at her dad, a small frown on her face forming from being disturbed. She then crawls over your lap to get comfortable again.

"She's not allowed to move out, or have a boyfriend" Mark says making you laugh

"My dad probably thought so too, and look where we are now"

"Yea but she's my baby"

You laugh at your husband's cuteness, looking down at your daughter "Minjee, who's your first love"

The little girl looks up, answering with a few words she could say "Huckie"

You laugh then looked over at Mark, a confused look on his face

"Who???"

"Baby, you love who?" you asked Minjee again, the little girl smiles before answering "Hyuckieeee" she says this time Mark takes her from you

"Are you saying you love your uncle Hyuck more than me?"

"Minjee love Hyuckie" she tells her dad, meanwhile you laugh at Mark's reaction. Donghyuck has always been around ever since the kids were little, Minjung grew up having his fun uncle around much to Mark's dismay some times but you know he's thankful to have his bestfriend around.

After Donghyuck's daughter was born, they would sometimes go on double daddy-daughter dates.

"You did not just say you love him more than me. I thought dada was your favorite" Mark frowns but Minjee just giggles

"Ah you're breaking dada's heart, let me ask you again who do you love the most" Mark asks his daughter, the little girl smiling before uttering the name once again

"Hy-"

"Dada, you love dada. I'm going to buy you all the toys and ice cream and whatever you want" then he attacks her with tickles and kisses making the little girl laugh.

"You're only 2 and you're already breaking dad's heart, I don't even know what I'll do when you get an actual boyfriend"

"Do you know what my dad said before we got married?" you asked, making Mark look over at you with curious eyes

"He said he dreaded the day he would give me away, but after meeting you he can breath easier knowing it would be you I'll come home to" you smile at the memory. The words your dad said you'll forever remember.

"He cried so much during our wedding" he mumbles, taking one of your hands to hold it in his. Caressing the band you're wearing, the very same one he also has.

"You would to, I can see it" you smile, "And I love you so much for that, to know that our daughter would grow up with that much love and care. She would know what true love is because you showed her that"

He smiles at you then looks down at Minjee then back at you, "Oh dang I'm gonna cry, I can't even think when that day comes"

You giggle before cuddling him again, this time he hugs you close. Both of his girls in his arms. "We got a long way to go, for now you need to beat Hyuck first" you joke

"Oh you already know it"

[isawritesshit]

Someone - Chapter 2

image taken from @ patlmao on pinterest

Synopsis: Satoru became something to you during your school years together at Jujutsu Tech, which were ended abruptly when you were casted out from your clan and left the jujutsu world. When Satoru finds you again after years apart, you find out that you were something to him too. Maybe you still are.

Warnings/Content: fem!reader, season 2 spoilers, violence, brief depictions of blood and nudity, language, death/murder, conspiracy, allusions to toxic households/anxiety/physical abuse, some arranging marriage things, toji giving more teenagers trauma

Author's Note: This has been sitting in my drafts for a while, and I'm glad it could get it to y'all! This chapter focuses much more on the reader than anything, and it's overall more angsty, but I promise the good stuff is coming soon! The Kamo family and any of its mentioned characters/members in this story are made up and dramatized for the point of this series, and are not canon. Make sure to read the prologue and chapter one before this one, if you haven't. Also, I wanted to thank all of those who have supported my Color Blue series, and that the next chapter is in my drafts! <33

Word Count: ~5.4k

___________________________________________________________

Walking up the steps to Jujutsu Tech had to be one of your least favorite activities, but the five of you pushed forward. You were almost home free. Once you reached the inside of the jujutsu barrier, the mission would be complete.

Memories from that morning flooded your mind. Satoru had still been awake when you got up from the couch after a somewhat peaceful rest. How did you sleep? His voice had been gravely and quiet, completely exhausted.

Good, you had yawned as you stretched, making your first task to go and find him some caffeine. What you didn't say was that you actually had been awake for an hour before you decided to move. You had felt him caressing the ends of your hair, running his knuckle along your cheek while he assumed you were still unconscious.

You can't get any more obvious than that, (y/n). Riko's words rang through your head.

"Satoru." You stopped and turned to where he was walking up the steps behind you. Upon hearing his name, Satoru grinned and trotted up until he was on the same steps as you so you both could continue together. He didn't seem to care that he left his conversation with Suguru.

"Something up?" he chirped.

"No it's... I needed to ask you about something, actually." Your focus was on the steps below you as you ascended them, hands behind your back as you took up a leisurely pace. A few seconds passed as you considered your next words.

"Well? I'm waitiiiiing," Satoru sang. That caffeine had definitely helped.

Are you sureeee...?

"You know what, I think I'll tell you when once we finish the mission," you stated haughtily, shrugging as a way to playfully brush off the issue. Now probably wasn't the time anyway. It might be better to ask once the stress of this mission was past all of you. Satoru turned back to chat with Suguru.

Finally, you reached the top of the steps. "Good job everyone. We're inside Jujutsu High's barrier now," Suguru commended with a smile. You patted Riko's back as she hunched over from the exertion of the trek. "Satoru, (y/n), you both really worked hard this time."

You returned a small, awkward smile.

Satoru just scowled. "I never wanna get stuck babysitting a brat again."

When you turned to Satoru with a remark on the end of your tongue, there was a blade protruding from his chest.

You hesitated, eyes wide. Impossible. You're inside the barrier! Geto sent a curse careening for Satoru's attacker, causing him to remove the blade and jump back. The curse gobbled the mercenary in one bite, but you knew that would only prolong his attacks. You ran to Satoru's side, pressing a hand to his chest and back where the blade had entered to heal him.

However, Satoru pushed you away gently, explaining how he used his technique to keep the blow from being fatal. "Don't waste your energy. I'll take this guy, you three get her to Tengen-sama."

You almost protested, but you knew your role in this mission was to keep Riko alive, which meant you had to stay with her the whole time. With Suguru protecting the three of you, you would be safe. "Be careful, Satoru. Let's go!" Suguru shouted. Riko and Kuroi ran to his side as they started to sprint.

"Satoru..." There was something seriously wrong. Why was Satoru attacked instead of Riko? Hadn't her bounty been lifted also? This man must have some kind of technique to allow Satoru to not be able to sense him, or, even worse, he might not have cursed energy at all. But if that were true, how had he been able to see past the barrier?

"Seriously, (y/n), I'll be alright. Protect Riko," he said with surprising calmness. His assurance gave you confidence. He's the strongest. He would be fine. You turned to catch up with Suguru and the girls, and hoped you weren't making a mistake.

___________________________________________________________

The shrieking of the old elevator filled your ears as the four of you descended deep into the earth. Suguru made sure that no cursed energy residuals were left, especially once you reached a chosen entrance of the Tombs of the Star Corridor. That bastard would be lucky if he even found one of the entrances.

Once your group reached the bottom, the four of you stepped out and peered into the darkness of the corridor beyond. Riko seemed to look forward towards what she believed to be her final steps as herself. "This is as far as I go, Riko-sama," Kuroi stated with a bow. Riko ran to her and hugged her tightly, tears filling their eyes.

"I'll stay with Kuroi," you declared. Riko whipped her head to you. "Suguru will keep you safe," you assured her, taking a few steps in their direction, "we'll remain to guard this entrance." You pulled Riko into a deep embrace, her tears soaking the sleeve of your uniform. "Thank you, Riko..." you whispered, not specifying what for. You held her head as tears threatened to fall from your own eyes. In the span of three days, this girl managed to become a dear friend to you, like Shoko.

You glanced over Riko's shoulder and made eye contact with Suguru. You hoped he could see past the despondency in your eyes to know you were pleading with him. You, Satoru, and Suguru had discussed the terms of Riko's assimilation in private. She didn't have to assimilate if she didn't wish to. You trusted Suguru to convey that to Riko before it was too late.

You and Riko broke apart, sniffling and wiping tears. "Tell Gojo I said thank you, (y/n)," she whispered. You could see the hidden message behind her words, the happiness she wished for you to pursue. You would. For her, you would.

You watched as the two started a leisurely pace ahead. It was more a speed that someone might take on an evening stroll instead of to the end of their existence with a ruthless murderer on the hunt nearby, yet you stared from behind in awe at Riko's silent bravery. Soon enough, her and Suguru were out of sight as their footsteps faded within the passing minutes. You and Kuroi stood there in silence.

"You raised Riko well, Kuroi," you whispered, pausing for a moment. "I know you said her parents passed in an accident, but, if you don't mind me asking, how did her parents die?" Accident was a vague term.

"A car wreck," Kuroi responded. "A head on collision. They were crushed in the front seat while she was sitting in the back."

"Ah... and how old was she?"

"Six."

You went silent. What was special about six years old anyway? Was that the age that all gifted girls lost their parents?

"(y/n), do you think that... if I always knew that Riko would one day depart from me, from the world... was I wrong to teach her... to allow her to become attached to the world?" Kuroi's words left the silence as slowly as they had entered.

"Do you mean because Riko would one day assimilate that she should have never learned to love the people around her?"

"Yes well, I mean, she could still appreciate things but... this world was never meant to be hers, yet I treated it like it was. Was I wrong to do that?"

"No. Absolutely not," you challenged. "The world was hers. The world is still hers because you raised her to believe it. Now, we just need to see what she'll do with it." You paused before explaining. "Riko doesn't have to assimilate if she doesn't want to. She can live a life. If you had not raised her the way you did, she would never consider that option available to her. Satoru and Suguru are prepared to protect her, if necessary. We can make the world hers again."

Kuroi's head snapped in your direction. "So you mean... she can come back?"

"Yes, thanks to you, I have no doubt she will come back. All we have to do is wait." You smiled softly.

Kuroi gasped and beamed. "Thank you, (y-"

Blood protruded from Kuroi's stomach where three bullets had entered from behind. You screamed, rushing to where she fell, before two bullets lodged themselves into each of your calves. The pain spiraled throughout your body as you fell forward.

You gritted your teeth as you tried to raise yourself, but a foot cracked down on both of your shoulders, the bones crunching. "Ah, sorry, can't make it too easy for you to heal yourself." The man who had attacked Satoru stepped off your shoulder to kneel in front of you. "You should heal from it naturally though if you put your technique to work. I would finish you myself, but I don't need the Kamos coming after me for killing their pet dog." He stood and began to walk away.

How was he here? Where was...

Where was Satoru?

"I am not... a dog!" you gritted out between your teeth. This man... you had heard of him before. Sorcerer killer, your adoptive father had called him. The bastard of the Zen'in. The man turned, intrigued, and stalked back towards where you lay, your blood pooling and mixing with Kuroi's, who was slowly losing life by the second. Heal her. You needed to heal her, but with your significant injuries, you only had enough energy to heal yourself before you could even think of getting to Kuroi.

The man grabbed you by your hair and lifted your body up with one hand, bringing you eye level to him. You cried out at the blinding pain, unable to even try and fight him with your broken shoulders. He scrutinized your expression like he was looking at mold on food. The man scoffed, spitting at your face as he said "You look like one. You look like your father."

Your father?

How did he-

Your tormentor only let out a strained laugh. "Seriously? You never figured it out? I can tell by the stupid fucking look on your face." You squinted, confused. "Your parents were the easiest job I had ever got. One of them wasn't even a sorcerer and the other couldn't even use proper cursed energy. It was almost stupid, how pathetically they went down for the amount they were worth. And for what? Just so the Kamos could get their hands on you?" A smirk before he added, "Come to think of it, your dad was making that face right before I slit his fucking throat." You saw red, and tried to kick him in his abdomen despite the pain in your legs. Before you could, you were discarded to the floor, next to Kuroi's now dead body. The man continued on towards where Suguru and Riko were now.

Your screams echoed out towards the hall, pleading and calling out for your friends to run, to warn them of the oncoming slaughter, but to no avail. The tunnel stretched on for miles. Your voice would become nothing with the immense distance, and it would take too long for you to heal yourself.

How did he sneak up on you two so quickly? Would Suguru be able to stop him? You hoped he would. You prayed he would. Suguru was second only to Satoru.

But where was Satoru now?

Your vision faded to black.

___________________________________________________________

Your fingers danced across the piano keys, playing a melody that you forced yourself to become familiar with over the past few weeks. Chopin's Fantasy in F Minor. You had just started to move into more of Chopin's works during your daily practices after your adoptive father asked if you could prepare one of them for him when you returned home after graduation. Something to look forward to, he had said.

You moved through the piece with grace, keeping your posture, arms raised at the perfect angle as you played. You remembered how your mother had instilled playing posture in you when she gave you your first piano lesson at four years old. You had sat on her lap before her keyboard, giggling as she adjusted your hands and put them over her own as she played. Your father, your real father, had sat on the couch and laughed, adding snarky comments here and there.

You look like your father.

Your thoughts faltered only for a moment, but your hands remained active. You just needed to finish the piece perfectly before calling your practice for the day. The grand piano echoed down one of the hallways of Jujustu Tech. The Kamos had made a request to move a piano into an unused classroom to act as your practice room during your time as a student, to which the school agreed.

I don't need the Kamos coming after me for killing their pet dog.

Your parents were the easiest job I ever got.

It was almost stupid, how pathetically they went down for the amount they were worth.

Toji Zen'in had killed your parents. You knew that now. But if the Kamos had ordered your parents death, what did they have to gain?

Your dreams ran rampant with images of your parents, nightmares, watching as Toji Zen'in slit your father's throat. Sometimes it wasn't his throat he was slitting, but your own.

Sometimes it wasn't Zen'in holding the knife, but your adoptive father.

No. The Kamos would never. Never.

One of your fingers slipped and ruined the cord you were playing. You huffed and forced yourself to start from that cord again.

You never figured it out?

Just so the Kamos could get their hands on you?

Dog. Dog. Dog.

The piece finished before you realized you were done. You sat there, fingers resting on the keys. Your eyes just stared at the notes in front of you, no more than dark blots and symbols on a white canvas.

This world was never meant to be hers.

The world is still hers because you raised her to believe it.

What was your world anymore? Riko and Kuroi were dead now, killed by Toji a little over a year ago. Suguru was beaten within an inch of his life. And Satoru-

The sliding door opened with a smack, revealing Satoru's peeved face. "You finished ten minutes ago. Why are you still sitting here?"

He was waiting outside? "Sorry, just writing down some notes to myself," you lied as you closed your music and left it to rest on its stand. He never questioned the fact that you didn't even have a pencil. "Is something wrong?" This was the first time that he had ever come near your practice room. You're surprised he even remembered where it was.

"No? Just grabbing you for dinner. Suguru and Shoko are waiting," Satoru stated as he began to walk away from the room with you not far behind. "We're going to that one place I recommended. I came to get you cause I knew you wouldn't answer your phone while you were practicing... didn't want to cut too close to when we planned on leaving."

You sighed. Of course he would "ask" if you wanted to tag along without giving you much of a choice. Your eyes glued themselves onto the back of his neck up to his temple as he walked. The scar that used to peak out from under his shirt collar was long gone, but you pretended it was still there. You could still see it. The spot where Zen'in had stabbed him.

Miraculously, he had finally grasped his reversal technique within his dying moments, saving his own life before he killed Zen'in himself.

It should have been you. You should have been the one to kill him, not that you would have survived anyway. You supposed that if you died fighting the man that killed your parents, you would die with a smile on your face. Maybe if Satoru had known that you wanted it, if you hadn't been in hospice while Satoru had landed the killing blow, he would have let you.

Satoru still didn't know that Toji had killed your parents. No one did. You couldn't find it in yourself to reveal the truth that had changed everything for you to anyone.

You didn't even have a plan for when you graduate, what you would do once you moved back home...

When that scar used to linger on Satoru's skin, he would only smile and thank you whenever he caught you looking at it. Even if it was his outrageous amount of cursed energy that saved him, he gives you the credit for saving his life. Satoru reasoned that if you had not given him lessons in reversal energy, then he wouldn't be standing before you today. You never saw it that way. With his growth, he was bound to learn it at some point anyway.

And Satoru's abilities didn't stop there. He was close to mastering every Six Eyes and Limitless technique known to his clan. He had surpassed Suguru and the rest of the sorcery community months ago. Some were already calling him the strongest sorcerer of the modern age.

Sure. Only you had seen the scars that made you think otherwise. Satoru had asked you to heal them off his skin around 6 months ago. Your heart had panged with each inch of the scar he exposed to you, with the largest one having reached all the way from his neck down to his pelvic bone. There were more the had littered his legs, spots were his tendons had been ripped it two. The last one had been on the skin of his temple, hidden under soft white hair, where a blade had entered his head and straight into his brain.

It was after you had finished healing those scars that you told yourself to never pursue him. Not just because you thought of yourself beneath him, but because only a god could have survived those attacks. The world seemed to bow to him and him alone. It scared you. He was still the same boy you had fallen in love with but... ever since Riko's death, he had become something... else.

As you exited the building, you found Shoko and Suguru outside. You noticed Suguru's eyes watching you as you walked down the steps to meet them.

Satoru hadn't been the only one to change that day. While he seemed to move forward at break neck speed, Suguru, to you, seemed lost. Stuck in place, almost as if his consciousness and feelings were consistently stagnant. You couldn't tell what it was, and you hoped Satoru would notice soon. If anyone could tell what was wrong with Suguru, it was him.

"We ready?" Shoko spoke up, taking her cigarette out of her mouth and snuffing it under her boot. Suguru stood.

"Yeah, let's hurry so we can stop for dessert on the way back," Satoru encouraged. The four of you began to walk towards the school entrance.

Satoru leaned down briefly to whisper a "thank you" in your ear. You only shook your head and continued walking.

___________________________________________________________

You had envisioned graduation as something celebratory, as an event that would ring in your memory as your next step into jujutsu sorcery. Instead, it felt hollow, at least on the inside, like something was missing.

Something was missing, no matter how much the three of you tried to ignore it.

Three, not four.

Satoru tried to play it off the best, as if Suguru's betrayal of him and jujutsu society hadn't devastated him both emotionally and mentally. If anything, Suguru had come closer to killing Satoru that day than Toji had the year prior.

But for the three of you, that was normal now. Right after your graduation and small celebration in Shoko's new apartment, Satoru left on a mission that would keep him away for a week. Shoko went back to her job, one that she was now getting paid for as an employee working within the Tokyo headquarters as a jujutsu physican and mortician. However, you returned back home to your family estate.

You didn't want to go back, didn't want to stomach seeing their faces now that your eyes had been opened. You even considered begging Satoru to take you on the mission with him, even if you wouldn't get paid for it. However, you knew he needed the distraction, the space.

As your adoptive father embraced you, you felt like fainting. He could tell something was wrong, but said nothing.

Your only hope was to wait for a mission assignment. You hadn't been assigned missions for a while in the weeks leading up to graduation. It worried you a bit, but you thought that maybe you were going to be given a position similar to Shoko soon, either by her side or in Kyoto. Kyoto would be great. The further from here, the better. For now, all you could do was wait.

To anyone within the Kamo household, it seemed like you had never changed. Your demeanor returned to how it had been when you lived there: indifferent, graceful, and silent.

No, you had changed, and because of that, you could now see how far these walls pressed in on you where you failed to notice them before. You were no longer as obedient and pliant as you once been. Three years as Gojo Satoru's best friend had changed that, for sure. You had forgotten how much of your life you couldn't dictate, all the way from your finances to the kind of clothing you were allowed to wear. Now, these walls felt like confinement, like a hawk in a delicate white bird cage.

You took up a routine similar to the one you used to keep before living at Jujustu Tech. Training in the mornings, piano in the afternoon, entertaining family and guests in the evening. Some days you would meet up with Shoko, and some nights she would graciously offer for you to sleep at her place. She could see how the Kamo house was affecting you, but you both knew you could never stay.

In the days that followed, you would make occasional visits to Jujustu Tech with your adoptive father and other Kamo members. It was here that you would see Satoru in passing, talking with Shoko or Yaga. He somehow seemed to stand straighter, taller, You knew it was for show, but more show than usual. However, when Satoru looked at you... it was different, to say the least, almost like he felt sorry, but when you were able to catch him alone, it was like nothing had changed. It was relief.

"You ever think about moving out of that hell hole?" Satoru mused, chomping down on some frozen dessert he bought earlier. "I certainly would if it meant I didn't have to wear that shit all the time." He gestured to your traditional-Japanese wear.

"It's because this is considered a visit on business. As if I didn't live here for three years..." you groaned, adjusting your collar. "I just have to get used to it again, the routines and the clothes and whatnot."

Satoru hummed. "Y'know... you could always move in with me. My place has like, a gazillion open rooms, and it's quiet. Plus, we can continue our Mario Kart tournaments whenever we want."

You perked up at the offer, but shook your head. "I would, but, I don't think my father would approve of me living in the Gojo household with the unmarried sole Gojo member..."

"What do you mean?" he snickered. "Wait, don't tell me. Is your father trying to set you up for marriage?"

"It's been... discussed."

"Well, whoever he is, must suck to be him." You just hit the remainder of his food out of his hand. "Fuck, okay! Did you really have to do that?" No answer. "Okay, okay, I kinda deserved it. But... why would your dad marry you off? You're not Kamo by blood, so..."

"I dunno, I've been kinda asking myself the same thing. Maybe something to do with the last name and possible advantageous bullshit I don't understand. I've been... I haven't asked," you sighed, crossing you arms and looking out on the training grounds. The chill in the air breezed in through the open doorway, signaling winter's arrival. Only a few months ago, you had practiced your combat and sorcery skills on the very plot of land in front of you, hoping to raise your grade for higher missions or maybe become recognized to work with students here on the campus. You never thought that after graduating you would be so... stuck.

"Well, what if we got married?"

You paused. Did you really hear him correctly?

"It doesn't have to be weird or anything. Just to get you out there and have your dad stop nagging you on this stuff," Satoru shrugged, as if he were offering you a favor or giving you a suggestion. He was doing that, but... did he truly understand the magnitude of what he was saying?

"Are you out of your mind? Satoru, he would never agree to that!" you exclaimed.

"Yeesh, I didn't think you disliked me that much. Personally, I think I would make a wonderful husband," he nagged, a smug grin on his face.

You rolled your eyes and sighed. "My father sees you more as an enemy than a potential ally. He'd probably blow a fuse by just seeing us talking here." Your adoptive father wasn't really appreciative when he learned of the friendship between you and Satoru once you returned home. He even blamed some of your recent misdemeanors and slight attitude on Satoru as well.

"So what? Then would I just have to ask him myself?"

"Why are you so damn adamant on this," you muttered. "If anything, you'd just make the situation worse."

Satoru brushed that comment aside. "I'm adamant because you're my friend, a good friend and..."

You looked to him, quirking an eyebrow at his sudden tone change. "And what...?"

"I just... don't like being alone."

___________________________________________________________

I just don't like being alone.

You stared at your plate of food in front of you, fully untouched. Your appetite felt absent, almost on and off, as it had been since your conversation with Satoru over a week ago.

Ever since that conversation, the thoughts of what your adoptive father actually had planned for your future weighed heavily on you. You began to think about how much your father could dictate between mission and job assignments in the jujustu community and how they could let those trickle down to you. And the only reason for why he would stop you from getting any...

Marriage. Definitely marriage. What other reason could there be?

But to who? And when? And why? With all of these questions, you began to realize that you would probably take Satoru over almost anyone as your husband, just because you knew who he was to begin with and because you got along with him. Your less admitted attraction for him was of the least of your reasons, too.

But then you remembered what the duties of any arranged marriage entailed, not just an alliance, but heirs-

Yeah, you didn't want to think about marriage period. You wondered why the Kamo Clan even needed an advantageous marriage right now anyways. Not to mention, why it had to be you instead of any of the many eligible Kamos. You didn't know exactly what you wanted, but you knew you didn't want to stay here, or anywhere where you felt-

"(Y/N)," your adoptive father murmured your name from across the table. He had requested to have dinner with just you today. Why, you had zero clue, but you tried to remain calm. "Are you unwell?"

"Apologies, Father... just, thinking..." you whispered, unable to look up at him. You found it hard to be in his presence already, let alone make eye contact with him as of recent.

Your adoptive father sighed, and then spoke, "You're thinking about why I asked to have dinner alone, and if this means what I'm about to tell you..."

Your heart skipped a slight beat, blood creeping through your veins with reluctant fear. "Yes..."

"Well then, I suppose I should ease your mind then..."

Your sense stilled with a sudden anticipation, as if every nerve in your body waited to watch.

"I have chosen a suitor for you. One I'm sure you'll be pleased with," he said, a proud yet firm thrill in his tone. For some reason, Satoru's face flashed in your thoughts, despite the the cold that now settled in your spine.

"I see..." Your shoulders caved a little, the news still hitting you as unexpectent, like some part of you still hoped that he was going to give you what you wanted: solitude and space to find your own purpose, to discover what you wanted your world to be...

"You are to marry into the Kamo bloodline, to Haruto."

Haruto. As in his youngest son. Your adoptive brother.

That was the final nail in your coffin. You would never be able to leave.

___________________________________________________________

You didn't cry. You didn't move. You weren't even sure you were breathing.

Your adoptive father could sense your apparent shock, and allowed you to excuse yourself to your room to give yourself time to think. A small, hidden mercy.

He was waiting for you back in the dining room, going to be expecting an answer, or maybe even thanks.

Just so the Kamos could get their hands on you?

Dog. Dog. Dog. Dog-

You are to marry into the Kamo bloodline, to Haruto.

The last words your father said before you left the room sounded in your head the loudest: With your technique mixed with our blood, we can finally have techniques level to, if not above, the Gojos. Be merry, (Y/N). You will finally be one of us.

Everything made so much sense now.

He wanted you for your technique. You were never a Kamo, you were of no use to him except for this.

He killed your parents to get your technique.

He killed your parents. Ordered the hit so Toji could murder them to cover himself, and then steal you while he pretended to head an investigation.

To get you. To get your technique into the Kamo bloodline. To become a breeding mare to his son.

Your adoptive father killed your parents.

You bit back your scream, your anguish, your tears. A lifetime as a sorcerer had taught you how to channel that anger, that fear... and it taught you how to use it as well.

Your hand reached for the gilded knife that you always kept beneath your pillow. It had been a graduation gift from him. 

Your breath hitched. Were you really going to do this? He took you in where you would have had no one, gave you shelter and security, trained you as a child and comforted you as well-

But it doesn't matter.

He killed your parents.

___________________________________________________________

Satoru's body always seemed to move faster than his brain. Especially now.

Snow crunched beneath his boots as he strode, thick and packed from that morning's snow storm. The night remained clear, moonlight shining off the stone path to the Kamo household like watery gems.

If anything, the biting cold made he want to turn back, but he wouldn't stop, couldn't. He knew that he had to do something about your situation, not just for you, but for himself too.

Satoru knew the best course of action would be to strike this agreement as soon as he could, when your adoptive father would least expect it, to catch him off guard. He could do the convincing part later, even if his true reasonings didn't matter in this case.

But what should he say? He's never asked anyone's father if he can marry their daughter, let alone when that father is the leader of the Kamo Clan and when that daughter is also you, his friend, his... everything now, he realized. He had nothing left but you-

There was a body on the front steps.

Satoru rushed forward, quickly, almost too quickly, recognizing you-

You were bruised, bloody, completely stripped of your clothing, face down in the snow-

Shit. What did they do? How long have you been here?

Satoru immediately sensed the servants, no, Kamo members, by their cursed energy, walking towards the door. He needed to get you out of here, make sure you were alive-

Satoru practically tore his coat off, wrapping your body and taking you into his arms. When the sliding door opened, the only trace of you was your blood on the steps.

[plantyberry]

Cloudcuckoolander Tally Part 1: Prologue + Chapter 1: 'My little poltergeist can't sound this sexy!'

Helloooo Internet. Seeing as I have nothing better to do with my time, and that people asked about it, but never actually asked for it, I have taken it upon myself to do some weird… Cuckoolander thing.

Now then, let's get ⭐🌟✨~Fabulous~✨🌟⭐

Prologue

Nothing, but Reach Out for Arthur anyway for that +2 Relationship bonus or choose to Wake Up for that +1 Will.

Chapter 1

Some of the choices there lead to you picking the 'real' option next while giving you points. For example, in your Job Choice options, you have:

Fairy Princess (with requisite singing!) (Cuckoo +1): If picked, you get a second choice with the 'actual' job pick. For the sake of not having to repeat this every time, every such choice will have (++) added to them to signify that they work similarly.

Run screaming through your apartment. That's definitely going to be helpful. Cuckoo +1 (Note: Not picking the floor lamp means you're not picking that +5 physical) Charge around your apartment while screaming epithets. You don't know if it'll help anything, but it sure will make you feel better. Cuckoo +1 (Note: This one increases you potty mouth score, which interferes with your purity score, so if you're aiming for Percy, keep that in mind)

Reptilian Eyes.(++) Cuckoo +1 (Note: Does not actually give you reptilian eyes. Or does it? * Side eyes changeling MCs *)

I whip open the closet door with a sudden movement: Doesn't give cuckoo points, but gives access to Cuckoo options. ===…it's been ransacked! Your clothes and shoes are strewn everywhere and- oh, wait, that's how your closet normally looks. Cuckoo +1 ===…there's a great hulking monster inside and it smells like- wait no, that's just your raincoat. Cuckoo +1

I whip open the closet door with a sudden movement. I also yell "HIYAA!" and strike a martial arts pose for the added effect. Cuckoo +1 ===…I said I was going to yell "HIYAA!" and I keep my promises. Cuckoo +1

Clothes:

Depending on your club picks and your character settings, you may get some cuckoo points out of them, though if you follow some restrictions like, say, a mute run, or are achievement hunting, then some combinations may be preferable even if they give less points.

Birthday Suit.(++): Cuckoo +1

Other clothing options also give cuckoo rating during the talk with Adrian before clubtime. The pick that gives the most points here, that I can see, is the Vampire cape (up to +3 points), but here is a list of the other picks and the points they give with the right club options:

Riding club:

Red Cape + Frame = 3 or height = tall: -"Little?" I wonder if Adrian has suddenly gone blind. --"Aye, Aye, fairy godmother." +1 Cuckoo

Vampire Cape: +1 Cuckoo -Strike a stereorypical vampire pose . +1 Cuckoo --"No promises" +1 Cuckoo

Tuxedo: -"Actually, I was planning to wear these clothes during practice." --"It will totally be worth it to see everyone's reaction to me riding around in a tux." +1 Cuckoo

Spandex Tracksuit: -"It's a tracksuit, Adrian. Why would I change my clothes again?" I ask 'innocently'. -- I say nothing, I merely start dancing the Tango de la Muerte. +1 Cuckoo (and the Keikaku achievement)

Fencing Club:

Vampire Cape: +1 Cuckoo -Strike a stereorypical vampire pose . +1 Cuckoo --"I never bite and tell." +1 Cuckoo --"Lies and Slander!" +1 Cuckoo

Spandex Tracksuit: -I say nothing, I merely start dancing the Tango de la Muerte. +1 Cuckoo -"I was thinking about wearing this instead of my uniform today." --"If we switched to plastic swords we could totally do naked fencing!" +1 Cuckoo

Favorite Drink:

The fresh blood of virgins. (++) Cuckoo +1 (Note: You can't pick the option if you picked 'Blood' as a fear)

When watching the TV:

If Wildlife Biologist: He was obviously eaten by a giant mutated bear. Case closed. I'm a genius. Cuckoo +1 If NOT a Wildlife Biologist: He was obviously eaten by werewolves. Case closed. I'm a genius. Cuckoo +1

Hobby:

Gadgetry gives the option to gain +1 Cuckoo point if at least Friendly with Adrian (pick 'I asked the magical 8-ball' option when remembering about your first meeting)

Once the phone pick is done, open your status page, scroll down, and select 'Magical grimoire (Phone)' bank-mobile-alert-666: Pick the overly-long reply. You'll know which one it is. Cuckoo +1 Work: Talk about your Theory (Mutant / werewolf / Zombie / Thousand eyes in their throat). Cuckoo +1

Jump up and charge at the glass doors. Cuckoo +1 (Note: You can't pick the option if you picked 'Fear' as a fear)

After the Sin choice:

I whip out a nearby Bible and try to exorcise the monitor with its words. Cuckoo +1

Mask Choice:

Jason Voorhees Pandemic Mask (ie Hockey Mask Style) Cuckoo +1 Plague Doctor Mask. Cuckoo +1

Final notes:

While character generation isn't overly-long, it's an excellent way to farm cuckoo points (If you pick the right followup options in club and with Adrien, up to +17 to cuckoo score from this section alone). Two picks in particular stand out here in my personal opinion. The Spandex tracksuit, as it's easy to move in, increases your interpretative dance score with the right picks, and gives you an achievement. The other is the Bible Exorcism which, while incompatible with mute, also gives you +1 Will, and those points are quite a bit harder to farm.

[lamoobsessions]

Fortune for the Fools

Hazel Callahan x FemReader

Synopsis: After an underwhelming proverb from an underwhelming fortune teller at the county fair, you have an unexpected run-in with Hazel. When time passes and feelings prosper, you finally begin to believe that maybe that fortune was right after all.

A/N: Enjoy this prologue to a fic i'm working on, while I slowly hoist myself out of this writing slump. Each chapter will have a lyric from a song by a queer artist, so I hope you enjoy :)

Prologue: "My heart's out. My guard's down." - Body and Mind, Girl in Red

────────────

To you, everything about the ‘End of Summer Carnival’ was enchanting. The pop-up canopies glowing in the night like lamps. The game booths sounding obnoxious buzzers as the kids played them for cheap toys. The tall, flashing lights welcoming onlookers to their sketchy rides, which, to your dislike, capriciously shook as they sat in the dirt -They weren’t safe, anyone with half of a mind knew that, but anyone with a sliver of fun would ride them anyway. Even the smell of the event was kind of charming. Sure, there’s the frequent whiffs of vomit and B.O., but usually those smells drown in the overwhelming scent of funnel cake and sugar. All in all, there was a lot to love about the carnival. 

Like every year, you attend with Sylvie, whom you’ve known since… forever you think. You and her clicked. Maybe it was your reserved demeanor and her gregarious attitude that made things so easy. Many people found it shocking when they found out how close the two of you are, simply because you’re polar opposites. Either way, the two of you made quite the pair. 

However, at the moment you stand alone among the carnival’s rapture.

All is well though, you have a routine for this sort of thing. You start out with the games, then the rides, then get food, and finish the night off with a ride on the Ferris wheel. It’s a perfect system you discovered a couple of years ago, and it hasn’t failed you yet. The only downfall of this plan is that Sylvie isn’t big on the carnival games, so you’re often left on your own for the first half. Which, you don’t mind, it’s less competition for the prizes anyway. 

That’s how you’ve found yourself here, standing in front of an old vintage fortune-teller named ‘ZOLTAR.’

To your understanding, this is the first year the local carnival has had a fortune teller machine. The thing doesn’t even ask for one of your tickets, it only asks for a dollar. So, thinking it must be fate, you decide to try out your luck.

Inserting the money into the slot, a suspiciously long moment passes, a moment long enough for you to begin to think the thing must be broken, and you dollar just went to a waste. Yet, just as you were about to shake some life into the machine, a whimsical harp plays from the speaker, “Cheer up my friend, and listen to the proverb from Zoltar.”

The sudden, and unreasonably loud, audio makes you flinch.

“From small beginnings come great things.” The machine suggests. “Ah yes, and lucky for you the great Zoltar sees much happiness for you in the future. Go out and find it, but don’t run off too quickly, Zoltar has more to say for you.” 

A shuttering emanates from the ticket dispenser, as it pushes out a small yellow ticket. Pulling it from the slot you read the back of the card. 

It's all the same mumbo jumbo you'd expect from a fortune. 'Things are going to change soon… blah, blah, blah… Be brave in your choices… yadda, yadda, yadda.'

You huff a laugh looking down at the card. “great…” you mutter.

It’s truly is the same fortune-teller crap most people get, but you can’t help but to hope it’s true. What’s the harm in hoping, right?

However, after a few carnival games, this hope started to feel like bullshit. Firstly, your favorite game that’s here every year is gone, then you lose half your tickets gambling them away on some guessing game, then, at the time your supposed to meet Sylvie by the Ferris wheel, she’s a no show.  

‘Great happiness in your future, my ass’ you thought. 

At least you had enough cash left in your pocket to buy back the tickets you lost. But first, there was a fried Oreo stand practically calling your name with it's infectiously sweet aroma. 

Deciding to ditch Sylvie's meeting spot, you make your way to the concession stand and join the endless line.

Minutes pass and you’re finally close to the front, with the delicious smells of chocolate and sugar getting stronger and stronger with each step. Although, another minute passes, then another, then another, and the line has yet to move. Peering to the front, you see a girl fumbling in her wallet, a look of panic evident of her face. 

Even from a short distance, you’re sure you know who it is. Though, curious to see what’s going on, you listen in closer. 

“Ma’am you can’t pay with tickets, we only accept cash.” The woman behind the counter argues. 

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry. It’s just that I promised some friends-”

“If you don’t have any cash, I’m going to have to ask you to leave the line.”

Looking into your wallet for extra cash, you notice you only have cash for your own fried Oreo and some more tickets. If you were to buy more from the concession stand, you'd have to give up on the possibility of buying extra tickets later.

But, being that it's the last night of the summer and your 'lucky fortune' can't seem to come true, you at least have the chance to bring happiness to someone else's future.

“Excuse me!” 

Both the woman behind the counter and Hazel turn to you. 

“I have extra cash if you…” you suggest. 

“Oh no, it’s…” Hazel dismisses, “You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s no problem, really. What were you going to get?” You ask, taking the money from your wallet, while making your way to the counter. 

Hazel stares at you, dumbfounded, seemingly unsure if she should accept the offer.

“She was getting two churros and a stick of cotton candy.” The cashier speaks up.

You nod and count the cash before handing it to her. “Can you add a fried Oreo to that order?”

The woman bobs her head while counting the cash and shoves it into the register. “We’ll have that right out for you.”

“Thanks,” You smile and make your way to the pick-up bar for the food. Hazel follows you hesitantly, presumably taken back by the interaction. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” she comments.

“Yeah, but I wanted to.”

As embarrassing as it may be to admit, there was always this fondness with her, an insatiable desire to be her friend. But, making friends wasn’t always your strong suit. You mostly kept to yourself, sat in the back of the class with your nose in a book. Sylvie’s told you countless times how unapproachable you look, but you never got around to fixing that detail. 

Hazel wears a confused expression, as if she couldn't quite piece together something in her head. 

“I’m y/n, by the way.” You begin, figuring she's probably trying to pin a name to your face. “Hazel, right?”

“Um- yeah. You know my name?”

“Yeah I mean, we’ve been going to the same school since like freshman year. Of course I know who you are.”

Truthfully, it wasn’t normal to know random people’s names in your school. It’s a big school, filled with a lot of people. Many students graduate not knowing half of their class. But, you knew Hazel’s name because, like anyone you find interesting, you learned it.

“Oh yeah, right.” She laughs awkwardly. “I knew your name too, by the way.”

You smile, letting out an amused huff at her insistence before looking to the Ferris wheel, where Sylvie has yet to show up. You'd be worried if it weren't Sylvie being her usual self. She either got caught in some atrociously long line, or is currently talking some poor souls head off somewhere. 

“I-um,” Hazel begins. “I don’t think I ever thanked you for the food, so… thanks.”

“Yeah, of course. Don't mention it." You chirp. 

“No really, I owe you one. Usually they accept tickets at these things, but I guess they don’t do that anymore.”

“Yeah, they stopped doing that last year after some kid, like, figured out how to forge the concession tickets or something.”

Suddenly, her expression turns into one of clarity. “I was wondering why they didn’t offer concession tickets this year.” She pauses, then lowering her voice to a near whisper. “How did they find out about the fakes though?”

“Wait- was that you?” 

Suddenly, she lights up, as if she'd been waiting her whole life for someone to ask. “Yeah, I just bought some customizable raffle tickets online and printed all the same stuff on them. It was pretty easy, considering most tickets, like the one for the rides, have special codes on them so they can’t be replicated, but not the concession ones. There wasn’t anything fancy like that on them.” 

After seconds of staring in complete bafflement, you can’t help but to laugh. She was the last person you’d expect to pull such thing off, but maybe that’s because you didn’t know her as much as you wish you did.  “That’s honestly genius. I mean,  it’s a shame you got caught.”

“I don’t even know how they found out! I was super inconspicuous about it.”

At this, you only laugh harder. It wasn’t even that funny of a situation but for some reason, maybe because it was her, you felt lighter. 

“Two churros, a cotton candy, and a fried Oreo!” The woman calls from the counter. 

The two of you turn your attention towards the tray of food under the pick-up window. Hazel grabs her share of food, though not before handing you your portion. 

“Well,” you begin, while unwrapping the treat in your hands. “Maybe next time you can learn to forge actual money.”

“That would be so cool,” She beams, evidently not catching your sarcasm. 

“Cool, but also a federal crime.”

“It’s only a crime if you get caught.”

“Thats a terrible philosophy.” you remark. Glancing at the ferris wheel, Sylvie had finally showed. She waited patiently under beaming lights. “Oh, I gotta go. I’ll see you at school, I guess?”

Something flashes in hazel’s demeanor, something you couldn't quite identify before it was gone and replaced by a smile “Yeah -uh, I’ll see you then.” She waves. “Thanks again.”

“no problem,” you wave off, before taking off towards Sylvie, who quickly spots you walking over, and begins to wave frantically, as if you couldn’t already see her under the blinding light. 

“Y/n!” She calls, “You’ll never guess what I saw!” 

You smile, rolling your eyes playfully. “It better be the reason you were a whole thirty minutes late to meeting me.”

“Uh-huh,” She answers quickly. “I saw someone get hit by a car.”

A pit of shock and concern fills you. “Oh my god are they okay? Are- Are you okay? How the hell did-”

“No it’s fine, it was just Jeff.”

Immediately that pit of shock dissolves, and your mind begins to wonder how the whole town hasn’t already erupted into a riot simply because it was Jeff.  “Okay, so…is he okay?”

“Well, you know, of course he’s taking it way too far and acting like the car hit him at ninety miles per hour, when in reality it was probably one, but yeah, he’s fine.” 

That part was believable. For football players who are the size of grown men, they were about as fragile as a china doll. But, the fact that you hadn’t heard about it the moment it happened… that part was a little hard to grasp. “So, you’re telling me, the Jeff -Jeff the star player of the Rockbridge football team, got hit by a car and the town hasn’t turned to pitchforks and torches yet?”

“Yes!” She exclaims excitingly. “I mean, the whole team is devastated, but the people are handling it pretty good if you ask me.”

You huff, taking a bite into your food. “Well, I guess that’s a good enough excuse for you being late.”

“I’m sorry,” She exaggerates, dragging out the apology. “To make it up to you, I’ll let you choose the first ride we go on together.”

“Oh, how generous,” You tease. “But I blew all my tickets on the carnie games.”

“You serious? Why don’t you just buy more?”

“All the cash I brought was spent on food.”

She gives you a curious look, likely surprised that you, for once, came to something unprepared. For some reason you have yet to uncover, a part of you didn’t feel like telling Sylvie about the run-in with Hazel. 

“Well, lucky for you, I stole some of my stepdad’s money for tonight. So we can just buy more.”

you laugh, “I don’t think I feel comfortable using stolen step-dad money."

“Then don’t think of it like that. Think of it like I’m your super rich sugar momma, and I’m treating you to a night out.” She shoves a wad of tickets into your hands forcefully. 

“Right,” you deadpan, accepting the tickets. ”Step-dad’s money it is.”

“Great,” She cheers, playfully putting an arm around your shoulder.  

The rest of the night was spent using all of Sylvie's remaining tickets for eating overtly sweet foods, riding unnecessarily fast rides, and throwing up in grotesque smelling trash cans. Or in other words, the night was spent perfectly. You and Sylvie stuck around til closing and ended the night sleeping over at your place, which is always the go-to spot for the both of you since Sylvie absolutely despises her stepdad. Come to think of it, you’ve probably only been to her house once, way back when her parents were still together. These days, it’s your house and your house only. You never minded the company.

But, as the early morning came and the first day of school had arrived, you began to regret this decision.

Body aching, stomach wrenching, and head sagging like a block of cement, all the decisions of last night finally caught up to you. You felt like shit, and you weren’t the only one. Next to you, Sylvie groaned, dragging her hands down her face as she sat up from the air mattress on the floor. 

“I think I’m dying,” She complains.

You hum in agreement, pulling yourself from under the covers and throwing your legs off the bedside. “Do we have to go? It’s our last year, it doesn't really matter if we skip anymore, right?"

“I mean… I’d be down to skip if you are. We can rot in bed and watch movies all day and pretend it’s still summer and that school never started.” 

Staring at her with a stoic expression, you hop off the bed and begin to make your way towards the closet. “You’re supposed to convince me to go, not enable me.”

She shrugs, putting her hands up in surrender. “I never said I was a good influence. You decided that on your own.”

You huff, pulling off random pieces of clothing from the drawers and off the hook. “Yeah, well,” You sigh, throwing the clothes on the bed. “I’m going to need all the influence I can get to leave this house before eight. And by influence, I mean caffeine and ibuprofen.”

“Oh!” She exclaims shooting up from the bed. “I’ll get the ibuprofen.”

“Please don’t grab the wrong thing like you did last time.”

A wide grin plasters on her face. “You mean the laxative incident? That was hilarious.”

“No, no it wasn’t.” The last time Sylvie was in charge of grabbing ibuprofen was the night of the Junior and Senior prom. You developed a monster headache from all the cologne clouding the gymnasium air, and when Sylvie somehow came back with laxatives instead of a pain reliever, you were too absorbed in the pain to notice any difference. “I had to leave prom early because all the fucking bathrooms were full with orgies and stoners.” 

“Yeah, that was awesome,” She giggles. 

“Just please grab the right stuff this time.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I can handle it.” And with that, she walks out the room and towards the kitchen where the pharmaceuticals are stored. This time, hopefully, she will come back with the right medicine. You dind't want this sudden luck of yours to continue any longer.  

[endemise]

long ramble, progress update, & potential release timeframe below:

hii! i got a lot of coding done and i think im finally satisfied with how the game looks (for now…)

here are some screenshots of what some of it will look like on mobile!

the friendship and romance levels shown in the relationship menu are just random as is the blurb for Aesop’s thoughts, they’re just for the example! (also characters thoughts are hidden by default, you click to reveal, then hide, them)

the stat bars were giving me hell but i finally figured them out with the the help of some forums and tumblr posts

i liked how in when twilight strikes by evertidings, the menu buttons (i.e. profile, stats, relationships) are listed at the top of the page so i took inspiration from that! and the many IFs that have a splash (?) screen at the beginning with the title

compared to when i started using twine (i think august 2023 was the first time i gave it a try), i’ve learned so much and there’s still so much to learn as well, i think coding has become my favorite part (making things looks pretty hehe)(with the help of amazing templates & ppl smarter than me, they do the heavy lifting fr)

with all the coding done (appearance wise) it’s lock in time for the revised prologue and chapter 1

the prologue has undergone a fair bit of change with the help of feedback & i’ve (hopefully) better established the setting and story.

some things that have changed besides wording and sentence structure, etc.: being able to choose what you did as a job (ex. working at the family inn) and meeting a new character (more like an old friend?)(no spoilers:))

some things i’ve been considering (SLIGHT SPOILER FOR CH.1 MAYBE): merging the revised prologue and chapter 1 into just the prologue bc chapter 1 differs a bit from the other chapters, but then the prologue would maybe be too strange timeframe wise? it’s a time skip after the events of the prologue (is that considered a spoiler, i don’t think so but???) that connects to the next chapters so maybe it’d just be better as its own chapter? or dropping the revised prologue by itself along with the updated ui/appearance then chapter 1 sometime after, or dropping the revised prologue and chapter 1 together, idk these are all just ideas i’ve been thinking about maybe i’ll do a poll

if you have anything you’d like to see, for example a specific job your MC worked, certain personality traits, or something like that, feel free to let me know & i’ll take them into consideration! i think now is the best time to add things bc it’s early development days & it’ll be easier to do so now than later

i’ve also decided to lean a little more into the supernatural aspect which i’m excited for (one specific thing really, i can’t wait to get to it🤭) the story’s world itself is fairly grounded in reality (as in the supernatural is unknown to most) but i’m looking forward to exploring it more

what you’re probably reading this for: depending on how i end up going about the prologue-chapter 1 merge decision & whether anything is added from requests/feedback, i’m aiming for a june release, july at the latest (fingers crossed). now that the appearance and function coding is complete (besides stat/choice tracking & other story related things), finishing the writing and coding it in is all that’s left

my schedule has done a 180 & some things are less than ideal at moment but it should all (hopefully) go smoothly from here! should anything change, i’ll let you all know

anyways, that’s all i have to say for now! ty for being patient & for reading this mess, i appreciate you all :)

[cr4yolaas]

the night shift — prologue

masterlist | day 1

it's cold. too cold.

it's a little too late at night for any customers to arrive. tokyo is deemed one of the many cities that don't sleep, but with how quiet it is inside and out and the snow collecting softly on the windows, it seems that the world has come to a slumber.

the overhead lights flicker, slightly. someone would have to squint their eyes to see it. the freezers hum in the background, forever running for the satisfaction of others. a gentle melody that neither of them knows the name of loops from the speakers. it's just about the same as every other branch in the city.

and yet, for them, it's a sanctuary.

to escape from the reality of their lives is a blessing, and they find that solace in the walls of the convenience store, almost every night.

he likes to observe her. when their shifts align and they find themselves seated together behind the register, just like every other night, he observes, and observes, and observes, but he can only absorb so much. the color of her hair. the tint of her cheeks. the little habits.

he knows there's more to it. that, beneath the mass of flesh and muscle and bone, there are more intricacies than he could count on his fingers. but he reminds himself, every night, that there is no point in bothering himself with it. because, after all, they're just coworkers.

the alarm on his phone, set at exactly 11:30 in the evening, rings inside his pocket. they're both pulled out of the reservoirs of their minds and dropped into something more secure, something more familiar. a routine.

while he gets up to sanitize the counter, she moves to the register, the metal clinking at the little drawer pops open (he doesn't know, but she counts the money in her hands and wonders what it'd be like if it were all hers, just for a day). the heater shuts off and the door to the break room clicks shut. old shoes squeak against old tile while pen meets paper, little notes jotted into her mind that she'll (hopefully) remember to tell her manager about tomorrow.

silence washes over like a blanket. they don't fight it.

a sense of agreement, albeit not verbally disclosed, is shared between them — that much has been established since they were both employed, standing side by side in a line full of newcomers with too little shoulder space. there is no need to say anything. there is no need to do anything, other than their job. it's routine. it's necessary. it's comfortable.

but, the night shift drags on. and the more it does, the more he wants to break the routine.

ᡣ𐭩 thank you for choosing to read the night shift !!

ᡣ𐭩 this is one of my favorite projects ever i think. i'm so so excited for it

ᡣ𐭩 i wanted to introduce the ambiance and general vibe first so i hope this little prologue captured it well ^_^

ᡣ𐭩 in case you missed it, the convenience store that kags and yn work at is a common branch in this au. therefore it's not exactly a mega company but it's not a family business either

ᡣ𐭩 yn texts the manager's son bc he's an old man who stays around just for the fun of it. may or may not hate the son's guts, bc he's a bit of a privileged nepo baby

ᡣ𐭩 kageyama is a people watcher imo. bc of his analytical skills that are constantly applied to volleyball, i feel like he tries to apply similar skills to those around him sometimes. and who better than his coworker !!

ᡣ𐭩 anyways. i hope this smau turns out well !!

taglist: @causenessus @strawberryuri @iiwaijime @savemebrazilhinata @tiramizuloz @conrad4life13 @wyrcan @zazathezaer @nperoconelcositoarriba @winniethepooh-lover

italicized names cannot be tagged. check your account settings!

[livi-in-digital-circus]

Here are some songs that I think would match Ragatha/Miss Agatha and Jax/Jackson in your AU!!!

Ragatha/Miss Agatha:

- the grudge by Olivia Rodrigo would work with her and her terrible fiancé, especially after what he did to her baby. I think it could also work with her and Jax after she slapped him.

- Diet Mountain Dew by Lana Del Rey would work both Ragatha and Jax. It fits their will-they-won’t-they narrative.

- Bigger Than The Whole Sky by Taylor Swift. This song reminds me a lot of Agatha’s miscarriage and the horrible feelings that came with it. It’s the moment where everything in her world fell apart.

- Lose You To Love Me and Single Soon by Selena Gomez. The first one would work with Ragatha’s regrets over her past relationship with her ex, while the second one highlights a happier ending for her. It’s her new start with Jax, specifically her getting ready for the dance with him!

Jax/Jackson:

- Dancing With Our Hands Tied by Taylor Swift. I feel like this matches the dance scene, before everything fell apart of course.

- teenage dream by Olivia Rodrigo. This song would probably reflect the aftermath of Agatha’s coma and all the pain Jackson went through after finding out. Although this isn’t canon to the story, I feel like this would fit his 18th birthday party without her.

- Love You Down by Ready For The World. This song would resonate a lot with Jackson’s one-sided crush on his brother’s teacher and the dreams he had about her.

- Colors by Halsey would definitely work with Jax’s dreams about his past. It summarizes all the people and all the feelings he ignores to avoid feeling anything.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy these choices :D. Your AU has been one of my favorite TADC AUs I ever read. The amount of emotion, drama, and romance was captured perfectly without feeling OOC. Keep up the great work Livi!

AAAAAA THANK YOU SO SO MUCH 💕

I don't know why I didn't think of adding more Taylor and Olivia songs to my playlist, but I actually had those two Selena songs somewhere in the back of my head while making it!

I'll listen to all the songs when I get home from school in 10+ hours (it's past 1 AM here lol)

I would also like to take this opportunity to explain some of the Korean songs on the playlist:

Prologue by aespa is about feeling immature and not ready for adulthood, to me it fits Agatha perfectly because even though she has been an adult for some time, she still has the heart of a teenager and has trouble dealing with some adult issues

Checkmate by Xdinary Heroes is about feeling confident because of a won game, I relate this song to the moment when Jax's attack on Ragatha during their stage play was successful

The Ugly Duckling by YENA, well I interpreted the song's lyrics much differently than it should be interpreted, I relate it to Agatha's miscarriage due to the lyrics being about trying to move on after a horrible event and there is also a child mentioned so-

War of Hormone by BTS is a very controversial song which that has been accused of considering girls playthings for boys, basically Jax's attitude towards Ragatha before she almost abstracted

Doll by (G)I-DLE, the title says it all, it perfectly describes how Ragatha was treated by Jax and how she's fed up with it

Quarter Life by TOMORROW X TOGETHER is another song about finding adult life kind of hard and trying to go on despite you already screwed up a lot of things, every time I hear this song I think of Jax and how he feels after remembering his former life

Lonely Boy by TOMORROW X TOGETHER is a breakup song that in my opinion fits how Jackson felt after losing Agatha

Happily Ever After by TOMORROW X TOGETHER (yeah, it's my fav boysband lol) is the song I had in mind while writing the last chapter, even though it's upbeat it tells about how cruel life is and that there's actually no happy end, just like in the story :D

And thank you for enjoying my AU! At first I thought it would fail as it has no drawings (I'm really terrible at drawing + I can't do digital art) and focuses more on writing, but the amount of support and love my work has received in these few months makes me incredibly happy 🥺

[peeterparkr]

thus, with a kiss, i die| tom holland| 1.

chapter 1: strangers.

romeo & juliet modern au.

summary: the well known story of star-crossed lovers. Your local bar has two spots for bands, but only one spot for an opportunity to get a record deal. Your band, the Capulets and his band, the Montagues have been rivals long enough. But what happens after a night when you get to know their lead singer?

chapter summary: two strangers who have no expectations.

pairing: singer!tom holland x guitarrist!reder

warnings: swearing, alcohol mention

word count: 3.8k

this is literally romeo and juliet, it's one of my favorite stories, if you've read my other works you KNOW I love to quote it, and reference and eveyrhting. Anyway, this is my take on it. Modern world, hope you like it. I haven't written anything in ages so here goes.

character glossary prologue next chapter masterlist

wanna be tagged?

so, first chapter is finally here! I highly thank everyone who's been supportive of this :) i'm really happy to be writing again and to see people actually reading is making me go insane. Well, I hope you like it, I highly encourage to read the prologue to understand a bit more of the capulets and the montagues. This chapter is heavily focused on Tom and y/n separately. Again, this is my take on Romeo and Juliet, it's literally based on it with my modern twist but yes :) hope you like it, send feedback. Also, I have a playlist on apple music, I'm going to get it on spotify as well so I'll share that later.

The night seemed either too old or the light too young. Blurry, and messy seemed the evening before, a couple of drinks, two songs too many, and a gathering crowd that was too delighted. For his own good. 

Tom couldn’t recall what had been said, or done. Last thing he knew was he’d shown up, his bleeding heart puffing out of his chest as he continued to stab it under the spotlight. Making a show out of his broken heart.

Only Ben had asked if he could do it. 

“Yeah, yeah, I can do it with a broken heart,” he had pleaded. But could he? 

“Enjoy the spotlight,” had been the advice he had received from Monty. And although he wasn’t referring to the light, Tom later understood it meant the several attempts that were made to flirt with him.

He had given in, eventually. What else can you do with a broken heart? 

And as he woke up early from a cold bed, slightly too crowded, with a hand up on his chest he growled, leaving an empty trail behind him and a headache that would last. 

He didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t have to. The poor girl had probably just been a victim of his attempt to forget a broken heart. 

He’d left his motorbike at the bar so he had to clumsily and shamefully walk back to Verona. Thankfully he was now alone with his melancholic thoughts, an endless path full of misery and tears that were waiting to trace a map back to his pain. An unfurnished heart and his sudden questioning of what love was and if he’d truly felt it was going to keep him busy all day. If it hurt this much then he guessed he had felt it. But had he? 

He felt like he’d walked for hours. He wondered why it wasn’t raining yet he felt like it was pouring down on him. 

He’d heard much about love. How wonderful, a very splendid thing. Butterflies and unusual symphonies. He’d heard about love. But he didn’t know much about it. 

He’d heard little about love. 

Falling in and and falling out. He’d heard about hate, too. And how it was the absence of love. He disagreed much with it. For what he was feeling right now wasn’t hate. He felt empty. 

Falling out of love hadn’t made him turn towards hatred. Falling out of love was like losing air, like the sun wasn’t coming out, life didn’t continue and the whole world was meant to stop.  And the worst part of it was it didn’t. The sun came out, the birds were chirping and no one saw or cared he hurt. How dare the world continue when it had stopped for him? 

Maybe it was hate. Though, he didn’t know much about hate either.

 He’d searched for more love the night before or whatever was similar to it, perhaps that’s why he’d searched for some other lips for him. 

“Tom,” someone had interrupted his current inner monologue. His mind wandering had been brought back to reality all of sudden. Tom turned around to find Ben. 

Tom only raised his eyebrows  as he walked to his helmet. “Ben.” 

“You’re here early.” Ben commented. 

“It’s not early.” But it probably was. 

“It’s barely 9,” Ben declared as he stared at his watch. Ben worked the early shift at Verona, cleaning tables and getting ready for the day, so it was early. 

Tom groaned , “fuck.” Barely 9 and he had already died 7 times. 

He looked back at Verona that kindly had a sign which read ‘NO MONTAGUES ALLOWED TONIGHT.’ 

“What?” Ben questioned. “A few days ago you were in pain because you were falling in love.” 

“Out of love,” Tom corrected. “What happened last night?” He asked. 

Ben amused, chuckled. “Oh, darling,” he mocked his accent.. “You don’t remember?”

Tom rolled his eyes. “I know, I meant before,” he pointed at the sign. “Where the fuck am I supposed to drown this sorrow in alcohol instead?” 

“Ah,” Ben pressed his lips in a thin, thin line. “Well, the Capulets—“

“Piss off, I’m tired of that,” Tom rolled his eyes. “I have enough problems trying to understand why Rosie dumped me.” 

“And why did she?”

“Beats me,” Tom said. “She said I was too romantic. What the fuck does that mean? She said she didn’t want anything serious and that she wanted to have fun. Am I not fun?” 

Ben watched his friend with pity. “You know what?” He sighed, “I’ll take the day off, I’ll cheer you up.” 

Tom didn’t want that. 

But it didn’t matter. Not far from them Billie was cheering herself up, knowing that the night would be grand. It held the promise of the sun finally coming out for them. 

Billie had been waiting for a chance like this, and she knew her new friend Paris would help out. 

Paris, Billie thought his name to be ridiculous. For him only, ironically. Though it worked, she guessed. Cap had always thought they were meant for something greater than this. 

She often wondered what it could’ve been. 

She knew what they had set each other up, Capulets and Montagues. But she had her reasons. And her falling with Monty was something she often ignored and blamed him for. Monty was definitely at fault. He’d been the one to play with fire, he’d been the one to absolutely ruin everything. Which was a story for another time. Cap didn’t like to think about it so the reason will be kept secret. Let’s not get ahead. 

However Cap did like to think about how she’d ruined it herself. She had a marvelous time. 

People often called Cap a no brain woman. She took pride in that, although she didn’t agree. Although her last night with their initial band with Monty, “Shaken Spears”, was ine ti remember, she’d destroyed the whole place and humiliated him.  

It was fun. 

But now they were struggling because often bands are followed by popularity and Tom had given them just that. 

However she knew she was technically cheating. 

“So tonight’s your big night,” said Paris. Paris was more than just a bartender. His father owned Verona. And although Skylar owned the place she didn’t actually own it, and it was always Paris’ last call. 

So it did help that Paris had an infatuation with y/n, Cap’s younger sister, an incredible guitarist and a poet in her free time. Author of their best songs.

Or not really a poet, but someone who loved to poetize her sorrow. Same shit. 

“Yes, it is,” Cap smiled, “I’m glad we can prove we are better than the Montageeses.” 

Paris chuckled. “You are,” he agreed. “But they’ve got something.” 

“Yes, I know that British brainless brute,” she hissed. 

Paris nodded. “And he’s single now.” 

“Single now? Fuck,” Cap sighed. She thought Monty had probably something to do with it. Making the stupid hunk available would make them more appealing. 

“Yeah, and he already went home with someone,” Paris continued. 

Shit. This was even worse. 

“But I’m sure y/n will bring a lot of attention as well,” he cleared his throat. “I mean she’s incredibly talented.” 

“She is.” 

“Hope I get to—talk to her tonight.”

Although Cap was thrilled they’d be able to get more Saturday nights she wasn’t as fond for it to be at her sister’s expense. Although she knew she didn’t dislike Paris. 

Paris was a tall, handsome young guy. He had the brightest, bluest eyes. Y/N was fond of kind eyes. He was kinda cute, she guessed.

“Yeah,” Cap said. “I’m glad you want to befriend her.” 

Paris blushed. “I may—I may want more than befriending her.” 

Cap coughed, “you know, I’m not the one to make that decision for her. And if you want her to fall in love with you that’s your problem. You have to… woo her."

And she knew y/n to be sort of new to matters of love. Y/N was naive and stupid when it came to it. Her heart was an empty room ready to be filled. An open window letting the warm air in. Walls waiting to be painted. Her closet was full of dresses that were thrilled to be worn.  Y/N barely knew anything about it. She’d heard a lot about it, and spoke of it like a grand connoisseur. Words of someone who could imagine what it felt like. Romanticizing her lack of knowledge of love. 

“I know,” Paris said, “hopefully tonight I’ll get to talk to her, it’s the perfect setup.” He grinned to himself. “Besides, your idea to make it a theme night—“

“Shit!” Cap interrupted. “I haven’t given out these!” She took out a bunch of pink, blue and purple sheets, covered in constellations, stars, moons and suns which read: 

✨We are made of stardust✨ The Capulets invite you to celebrate the arrival of a new angel in their team.  Heaven, skies, signs and stars  mask themed party.  Greek goddesses, and mythic galaxies welcomed.   Costumes are encouraged. (Plus, you won’t have to pay cover if you’re dressed up )  Saturday 8 o’clock NO MONTAGUES ALLOWED.

Paris watched her. “I can get someone to hand them out.” 

And so he did, and before they knew it, a young boy was handing out the printed pamphlets. Nearby, some Montagues were sitting by. Getting a well deserved break. 

“You know the best cure for an old love is a new one,” Ben assured Tom, watching as the younger teenager who would earn a few bucks struggled to hand out the pamphlets. 

“I’d rather cut my own leg,” Tom rolled his eyes. “You know I just feel trapped it’s like this fucking emptiness is just spreading—Hello?” He turned to the kid who’d just interrupted them by approaching them. 

“Hi. Good heavens.” 

Ben and Tom shared a glance. 

“Can we help you?” Tom questioned. 

“Are you Montagues?” The kid questioned. 

“Who asks?” Tom raised his eyebrow, trying to get a glimpse of the pamphlet. 

“Ah, then you are,” the kid sighed and tried to keep his way. 

“No, we aren’t,” Tom grinned and then shot a death glare at Ben who frowned. “We aren’t, what’s that?” 

“The Capulets.” He handed it over so Tom could finally take a look. 

Tom smirked, “ah, their gig.” 

“You knew about it?” The kid asked. “You need the pamphlet thing to get in.” 

Tom glanced up. “If you didn’t want me to be a Montague I could only guess.” 

Ben glanced at Tom. “We can’t go.” 

“Sure we can!” Tom smirked. 

“I was told to encourage guys like you,” the kid admitted. He looked between them. “Apparently there will be a lot of pretty girls.”

“See? Didn’t you want me to get a new love?” Tom mocked his friend. “C’mon, let’s call Maverick, I’m sure he’ll be down.” 

“Didn’t you want to cut your leg?”

And someone else wanted to cut their own leg. Not too far from them, in an old apartment, full of vinyls, lipsticks, old bookds, half-written songs and stars, y/n was getting ready with her best friend, Nina, and Clara, Cap’s girlfriend. 

Nina was excellent at makeup and hair, even though she was just your usual case of a gril who dreamed with having her salon. Although, to be fair she mostly wanted it because she said it was the perfect place for other people’s gossip. 

“Can’t believe you’re finally joining the Capulets,” Nina commented as she was placing small stars and sparkles around y/n’s eyes. “Seems like only yesterday when you started playing guitar, and writing songs about books you read. ” 

“Why the hell are you being so emotional?” Laughed Clara, watching them, “you sound like a mom.” 

Y/N had always stayed far from the spotlight, she didn't like it. She didn't think she needed it for that matter. For her, she was just a wallflower, nothing too exceptional. No one really paid any attention to her so she didn't bother trying to get it.

“I am proud of my baby, that’s all, finally showing the world her talent!" Nina smirked, “you know she’s been begging Cap to join them since they were the Shaken Spears? And I was so sad when they split up.” 

“Why?” Clara frowned. 

“She had a crush on Monty,” explained y/n, and then nodded in agreement at Clara’s disgusted grin. “Uh-huh.” 

“We all have questionable crushes,” Nina defended herself. 

“Not me.” Y/N chuckled. But she'd never really liked anyone. Not that anyone fancied her.

Nina motioned a vomiting face. “Except y/n it seems, because she’s perfect,” she mocked, bringing her hands close to her heart. “She’s never dated someone who’s trouble.” 

“And I never will,” y/n laughed. 

“You’ve never had a boyfriend or girlfriend, have you?” Clara questioned. “At least I haven’t met anyone.” 

“Nope, not one!” Nina said. “Hopefully, someone will catch her eye and she can bring them home.” 

“I haven’t had the honor, or misfortune,” y/n answered Clara.. “However I don’t think bringing someone home implies a boyfriend.” 

“You know Paris likes you right?” Nina smirked. , blushing.

“I am aware,” y/n admitted. She knew partly his infatuation had given them the Saturday night gig. She smiled, for the first time she wasn't invisible as usual.

Clara laughed, “Oh, and do you like him?” 

“He’s easy on the eye,” y/n rolled her eyes, her cheeks were flustered. “But in all honesty, I don’t want to… I’m not looking for anything, you know, Nina here is the love of my life so I don’t need anyone else.” 

Nina grinned. “I am her soulmate, that’s true.” 

“Besides, I’m more worried about music, and music is my one true other love, I can’t focus on anything else.” 

And she really didn’t want to focus on anything else. Perhaps, it may have been because she’d never yearned for love. She’d never suffered a broken heart, and she’d never felt that spark. 

That was a lie. 

She could only imagine it. But she didn’t know how it felt. She had always wondered how it would feel, if there truly were butterflies and a tickle in your skin. She wondered if love sounded like a gentle guitar weeping. She wondered if the world actually stopped, all of sudden only with a smile. She wondered if time really stopped ticking when it was felt. Did it taste as sweet as honey? Did it taste bitter? What did love smell like? Was it soft? Was it rough? 

Y/N always questioned why love had always hidden from her. She wondered how long love would take, because it seemed late enough. She’d been asleep for too long. 

She always wanted to love, without thinking, that never ending, the kind of love that is brainless, that makes you foolish. Y/N wanted to laugh, to cry and to feel. 

She knew her heart was special enough. Did no one want it?

And she knew Paris liked her, but she knew he wasn’t love. And she wanted to have it, she didn’t want to imagine it anymore. She wanted to be proven wrong, or proven right. 

To feel naked and yet warmed with the sun. Y/N always thought love would feel like a sunset. To love so passionately. To feel like you might die if you’re not around. She wanted to give her heart, to wake up with the stars wrapping you around in a haze. 

She could only wish. But right now, she was no one. And she knew she'd stay like that.

Or would she? 

Later, when the shadows can no longer be seen as the moon is your only companion, Maverick, Ben and Tom waited outside Verona. A lavender smoke surrounded the air and it held a promise for luck. The gig was about to start, and it was a full house. 

Stardust was the correct theme for the night. People dressed in bright, nightly gowns, girls with stars around their eyes. Moons, stars, angels, devil and gods. Greek goddesses, euphoric galaxies. 

The three of them, dressed to the nines, with masks around their eyes, giving imagination a go. Maverick, one of Tom’s oldest friends, stood right beside him. A sturdy man, tall, and handsome. Blue eyed knight, some liked to call him. He’d dressed as a galaxy, a starry, blue, litmus shirt, and a black mask to accentuate the oceans in his eyes. 

Ben, on the other side, only wore a white blanket around, a greek god had been his inspiration. A golden mask posed on his nose. 

And then, Tom, who had decided to go for something completely different. He’d worn a black, satin buttoned up just halfway the chest. A black mask, with golden feathers on the corners, to combine with the golden, covered in dark ashed pair of wings on his back. 

He’d learned from Maverick that Rosie would be there, so eventually he had to show off. Icarus, he’d gone as Icarus. 

They’d blended in with another group, and were astounded by the transformation of the place. Stars and suns hanging from the city, glitter and stars on the floor. Pink, lavender and blue lights, as if stardust had really covered the place. 

A fortune teller on one corner, with a bright neon sign behind her. Wings, feathers, and fabrics. 

“Jesus,” Maverick said. “If they keep going like this, you guys are going to actually strip on stage next time to stay relevant.” 

Tom only glanced around. “This feels like a dream.” 

Maverick scrunched his nose at his comment and Ben only chuckled as he arrived with the drinks. Unfortunately they hadn’t recognized them so he could get a bucket of beer. 

“Just drink, buddy,” Maverick handed a beer. 

There was something in the air, Tom could feel it. “I’m serious,” he said 

“Oh yes, yes, the old dream fairy visited you and gave you a glimpse of your future.” 

“Fuck off.” 

Before he continued, they were interrupted. “Well, hello, hello! What a lovely scene!” Billie said into her mic,  her stand was covered with flowers. Everyone turned to the stage, a projection of stars fell on her face. She had a glass in her hand. “I’m so fucking happy everyone could make it, and y’all look so hot.” 

A few laughs, cheers, whistles and clapping. Tom watched her, she was dressed with a dark blue dress, covered in small, silver moons combining with her silver mask, with stars coming out of it, surrounding her head. 

“I’m so glad everyone stayed on theme, but I do see someone dressed as a ghost, not sure if it’s the right vibe, but you do you buddy,” she smirked. “Anyway, I’m so happy that you joined us tonight. So, some of you may already know us, you know the gist,  we will play fun tunes for you, while y’all enjoy a drink, and you can sing and dance along. Are y’all with a drink already?” 

A loud cheer. 

“Amazing, I have a drink here myself, so cheers,” she took a sip. “I’ll be joined by my beautiful comrades over here.” 

Louder cheer, claps and a room full of noise. Tom had never been to one of their gigs, and the vibe was different from theirs. Cap was better at crowd work than he was. Monty usually talked and turned on the audience, promising Tom would take off his clothes. He never did. 

Seemed, however, the Capulet’s fanbase was more intense and devoted, rather than thirsting for them. Although he could see some people in the crowd were certainly not complaining about Cap. 

“Alright, I’m so I see a few new faces over here, I’m glad to see you so I’ll introduce these beautiful ladies,” she smirked. “And tonight’s the first night one of them is joining so make sure y’all clap and have this loud ass cheer, okay? We want her to feel welcome, so I want you to fucking scream and lose your minds for her, okay? or else I’ll beat your asses.” Laughs. 

“So first, let’s welcome the love of my life, Clara, who’s on the bass,” Clara walked in to say hello. Cheers, claps. 

Maverick, Ben and Tom all stared at each other. They’d never seen this kind of crowd. 

The girls kept walking in, as the cheers got louder each time. “Amazing, then we have our sexy Georgia on the drums, our lovely cute Sam on the keyboard. We have this hot badass on the guitar, bass, and fuckin’ ell everything that we need her on, please welcome Theodora.” 

Tom bit his lip, expectant. Why were they leaving the last one for the end? 

The place was moving. 

“But we know why you all are here, tonight all of this is for our newest member. Who isn’t exactly new. She’s been behind the scenes this whole time, she’s written some of your favorites like… Milky Twilight,” Billie smirked. “Flowers for two… Table for one… Yeah, yeah I know, and so many more, like our fan favorite Star shaped heart.” 

Ben and Tom were panicking. They had efinitely heard those songs. One of them was even  recorded already, and they had heard a rumour that it would be on the radio. Star shaped heart was the Capulet’s song. They’d always believed that Cap had written them so to hear the actual mastermind behind those, was terrifying for them. 

“and I’m so fucking happy she finally is on stage,” Billie said. “Please, welcome my younger sister, the talented, beautiful and brilliant y/n!” 

And Tom felt like he had been hit by a car. The girl had walked into the stage to the warmest, loudest crowd. The entire room had gone absolutely crazy. 

Yet, Tom felt the most calm, as he laid eyes on her. The whole world had stopped. Like an angel had flown over. A golden, long gown, folded, falling down all the way. As if sun rays were coming out of her, she was the purest light,  brighter than the sun, prettier than any of the skies above. Like she was floating above them all, flying. She was the sun.

Tom held in his breath as he watched her. It was a dream, it had to be, what else could it be instead? Maybe a wish, of one of those you wish upon a star.

“Okay, okay, so you guys all know us,” Cap said. “I’m Billie, but y’all can call me Cap. We’re The Capulets!” 

And they started to play. And Tom’s eyes could only be on her, her. And her name was roaming in his mind, the sweetest melody. A diamond. With a guitar covered in star stickers

The played a few songs and Tom finally tried to approach the stage as soon as Billie announced they’d get a break. He had actively avoided and ignored Ben’s and Mavericks comments. They continued to drink. 

Tom was in awe,and he couldn’t even hide it. 

Someone had noticed it. 

Theodora approached Billie. “We seem to have a stowaway,” she warned Cap, motioning to the stupid kid. 

Cap turned and saw him, lost and confused, watching them with veneration. 

“I’ll beat the shit out of him if you need me to,” Theodora said.

“Is that Tom?” Cap questioned, she’d never seen him here before, and honestly, she was too happy to care. “Ah, don’t bother, he is no trouble.” 

“But--” 

“We can’t have trouble, Theo,” she warned. “If we cause any mess Skylar will kick us out, alright?” 

Theo wasn’t pleased with that answer. They both were left too busy to see Tom had finally approached the sunlight herself. Who was currently by the bar, attempting to get a drink.

And so Icarus made his way to the sun. 

He only knew he wanted something, one kiss. That’s all he needed. But he couldn’t start with that. But there she was, alone with what seemed all the spotlights and yet no one approached her. How could they not?

He followed after her, as she was making her way out the backdoor. He guessed she thought no one was following her.

“Hey," his voice was soft.

The girl turned around, slightly startled, and it had been as if she’d been hit by the same bus as him. “Oh, hi.”  

-

wanna be tagged?

i'm tagging some friends and some who asked, if you want to be added to the taglist tell me if you want to be removed, no worries tell me as well! :)

tags: @lnmp89 @blondygwendy @dangerousluv1 @love-granger @kikiwritesfanfics @astoldbydanid @erodasghosts @peterdarlingg @hollandweather @annathesillyfriend @mannien @sukunababe @adoredire @whosyourgnomie4

character glossary

prologue

next chapter

masterlist

[freshbakedbreadstick]

No. 1 Party Anthem - Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader - Prologue

Past!Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader

Carmy Berzatto x F!Platonic!Reader

Richie Herimovich x F!Platonic!Reader

Summary: After running for so long, it was time to come home

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. Heavy spoilers and angst. Mentions of death, mental health issues, and toxic relationships. It’s not graphic or detailed in this one but I just want to warn you now that this series will deal with extremely heavy topics as it goes on (similar to the show).

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Hey bestiesssssssssss!!! This is my first ever series and actually first ever written work that I'm posting lol and I'm so excited for it!!! I'm starting off with a series because i had this really good and angsty idea while reading ANOTHER fantastic piece of work and was like “fine…….. I'll do it myself” so i'm here now writing it lmao anyways i'm starting off posting my fanfics with Mikey and Carmy because i've been a little too focused on The Bear lately n love them so much. Chapter one of this series should be coming up this time next week so dw abt waiting so long for an update!! Anyways i hope you all enjoyyyy <3

MASTERLIST

The cool Chicago night air nips at you as it blows by, rolling along the exposed skin of your arms. It was 3 in the morning and the street where The Original Beef of Chicagoland stood was empty and silent.

The building stood before you, quiet and lifeless. It was odd seeing it so silent and it almost seemed… peaceful. But one glance at the rusting sign that seemed to be barely hanging onto the building made the façade of tranquility fall.

The knot in your stomach grew as your eyes traced over the rusted sign and then onto the walls that showed cracks and age. The sidewalk wasn’t any better with uneven cement and haphazard patching. Just then, a piece of trash rolled by the curb, coming from the alley right next to The Beef. 

It was just like how you remembered it. 

The wear and tear was what originally made you appreciate it. It showed use and love, the same way that laugh lines around a person’s mouth showed you that they lived a life full of smiles and laughter. The walls were in use as hundreds filed in and out of the building for their favorites, every week. The floor was worn away underneath the soles of families, drunk friends, older couples, working folk, and more. The ungentrified building made the whole thing feel nostalgic, despite not being a building you were around as a child. It had felt… familiar in a both comforting and melancholic way. 

But now, seeing the building, especially with its marks of age, made your blood run like ice through your veins. It made you shiver, despite it being September in Chicago. 

What once was a warm and inviting place felt cold and even scary. 

It had been months since you spoke to the Berzattos. Actually, it had been months since you were in Chicago at all. About 8 months, that is. You left in February after… everything and never looked back. The east felt too familiar at that point, so you traveled west.

You chased the highs and avoided the lows, moving from one place to another until you settled in a quiet town where you felt loved. But that love didn’t come without its challenges and when it got hard, you did what you knew best and that was leaving. 

So you left with no clue as to where you were going, too proud but mainly too afraid to reach out to the family you had in Chicago. You drove with a car full of junk you couldn't even stand looking at anymore for all the memories of the past couple of months attached to them made your stomach churn. With no place to go, you found yourself, 5 days after leaving and living in your car, sitting on the hood of your 2002 Chevy Impala, stopped and watched the sunset of the west for the last time at a rest stop in the middle of nowhere with your head hurting and eyes puffy. It was then when your phone buzzed. 

The cracked screen blinked brightly as you glanced over at it.

‘Please come home, we miss you - Nat’

Your mouth dried as you read the message. Your heart pounded in your ears as your eyes raced over the words over and over and over.

‘Please come home, we miss you’

‘Please come home, we miss you’

‘Please come home, we miss you’

‘Please come home, we miss you’

‘Please come home, we miss you’

‘Please come home, we miss-

Another message popped up then, interrupting your reading and making you jump. 

‘I promise it’s okay’

Your hands trembled. How Sugar got your number after you changed it twice to avoid your ex from the west was a mystery but it almost felt like divine intervention as you read it under the glow of the cotton candy clouds in the sky. 

‘Come home’

So you made the decision to go back. 

To go home. 

But this decision didn’t mean that you were leaving right away; for two months you practically lived in motel rooms and in your car, pacing back and forth for hours in parking lots, empty hallways, and tiny motel rooms at the thought of facing everyone again. Would they be upset? Angry? Sad? Would they hate you? Welcome you with open arms? Especially after abandoning them the way you did? 

Some nights were spent breathing deeply and slowly, desperately trying to get your heart to beat at a reasonable pace and other nights were spent with tears streaming down your cheeks. You almost even decided to just not come home at all; it felt like moving out of the country and assuming a new identity would be easier to deal with than going home.

But you got yourself together and after pawning everything you didn’t mind parting with for cash, you drove with a lighter trunk and a lighter heart across the country and eastward toward Illinois. 

Before you knew it, the giant ‘WELCOME TO ILLINOIS, THE LAND OF LINCOLN’ sign had appeared in your vision. It greeted you like an old friend, making your eyes sting and your chest tighten as your car zoomed by it. 

Two hours away from Chicago, your stomach would not stop growling so you decided to stop and grab a bite to eat. After settling your car at a nearby park next to an empty bench, you got off and focused a bit too much on grabbing your belongings to notice what your surroundings looked like. 

It wasn’t until you had sat down and ripped the bag of food open, when the smell of a salami and mozzarella sub wafted in the air, perking you up and prompting you to smile softly, that you glanced up. Over the dark green shrubs and still water of Peoria Lake were cotton candy clouds, nearly identical to the ones that you had seen while sitting on the hood of your car, terrified and hoping for a sign, any sign, that what you were doing was the right thing. 

Five minutes later, your car was back on the highway and speeding towards Chicago.

You stayed over at your parents’ house that night. They were overjoyed to see their child. Your mother cried, holding onto you as your father rubbed your back, comfortingly. Part of you wanted to, so badly, melt into their arms, but another part of you reminded you of the last time you were here. Despite the furniture being different and the decorations being rearranged, your body twitched as it remembered the exact emotions and position you were in when you got the news. 

The news that your boyfriend, Michael Berzatto, was found dead.

You couldn’t sleep that night, nor the next, or even the one after that. You got a combined total of about 15 hours of sleep in the past 72 hours, making you look and feel exhausted. But your mind was the only thing that wasn’t exhausted from replaying the memory over and over and over. 

About 5 days after you arrived, you got another message from Sugar. This time, a pit formed in your stomach as you read it.

‘Hey, it’s me again! Can you swing by The Beef tomorrow? I'm working there now and would love to see you. I’m sorry this is on such short notice but I've been crazy busy and I heard you were in town. I really want to see you and if you can’t do tomorrow, let me know so we can plan another day.

We really do miss you.’

You rock your jaw and put your phone down on the edge of the twin mattress you sat on, in your childhood bedroom. Right then, your mom gently knocks on your bedroom door before pushing it open.

“Have you talked to Natalie at all yet?” she said softly, clasping her hands together and leaning against the door frame.

You huffed and smiled weakly, of course your mom would mention something to her, that’s how she knew you were here. While your mom respected you doing things on your own time, she also knew that you needed a little push to make that connection. 

“Uhm… yea she just texted me. I uh, i might see her tomorrow at The Beef,” you murmured with a shaky breath. 

Thank god Sugar ended up being the one to text you instead of you texting her. 

Your mom smiled sweetly, “I think you should go, sweetheart. I know it seems scary but… I think it’s time you saw them…” 

Nodding, you turn and crawl up to the pillows of your bed. With a sigh, you lay down and close your eyes, exhausted. 

From your door frame, your mom quietly watched you and sighs softly. She slowly grabs your door and closes it behind her as she leaves. The hallway light goes off, leaving you and your thoughts alone in the pitch black dark.  

And here you were, a couple hours after you read her message, standing across The Beef on a cool Chicago night with the air nipping at your exposed skin as it blows by. You left in such a rush that you forgot to bring a hoodie and didn’t even bother to change from your thin pajama pants and loose old t-shirt. All you did was throw on your shoes and climb out your window, car keys clutched in your sweaty palm, like you used to do in high school to sneak off with Mikey. 

But those days seemed so far away now the same way that The Beef seemed so far away. It felt as if the trek across the street actually spanned thousands of miles and not a minute walk. 

So you sighed and turned around, walking down the sidewalk and back to your car. Who knew what time it was anymore, but you knew that you really needed to get rest tonight… you had a big day tomorrow. 

[botnasty]

Prologue

Pairing: Alpha!Ari Levinson X Omega!Reader  

Summary: Have you seen the movie “She’s the Man”? This is a story inspire by it.

Words: 1k

Warning: Pretty much nothing tbh, it’s a prologue just to start the story, but the next chapter will be better I promise.

SERIE MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Please DNI if you are under 18! This is an 18+ blog!

Also, please don’t steal my work, on any other platform, unless you have my authorisation

Your mouth was watering at the delicacy sitting right in front of you. With all the perfect curve and its warmest you couldn't wait to take a bite out of it. “I have missed you so much, my precious.” You grab the chocolate muffin, but before you could take a bite of the thing you considered as “the most important thing in the world”, someone opened your friend’s Kayla door and sneaked out of it. 

It’s her Alpha of the week: blond hair, blue eyes, muscles built like mountains. He had a sheet wrapped around his waist, blocking your view of his groin, which you were thankful for because you didn’t want to see a dick first thing in the morning, especially not during your cheat day. The massive Alpha turned around and almost jumped in place when he saw you. “Jesus f-ing christ, I didn’t know she had a roommate.”

You shrugged, pulling at the paper around the muffin. “Surprise I guess. Do you want something? Water? Breakfast? The kitchen is all yours.” You said before taking a bite of your muffin, closing your eyes as you finally tasted chocolate for the first time in months.

You heard shuffling, thinking the guy was heading toward the kitchen, but when you started to smell your best friend's scent closer and closer and the sound of a chair moving, you opened your eyes to see that he had instead decided to sit right next to you, his hand pulling the sheet even more closer. 

“You don’t seem surprised to see me.” He started. “Like you are used to it.” He observed. A sense of pity washed over you as you saw his confused face. You looked at him and sent him a small smile and the guy most likely understood you because his face fell.

He slid a hand in his blond hair, pulling a few strands away from his hair. “She does that a lot, doesn’t she?” 

“Yes, but don’t you fucking dare shame her. She’s having fun and that’s all it matters.” You pointed at him aggressively. 

He lift both of his hands in surrender. “I wasn’t shaming, I just thought we would get to something serious. I wanted her to be my omega…” He looked down at his lap and played with the blue sheets. 

You almost whined. He looked like a kicked puppy. He really did like Kayla, but you can’t force them both to be with each other if it’s not what Kayla wants. You placed a hand on his shoulder, and squeezed. “I know I barely know you…”

“Yeah, you met me ten minutes ago.”

You smiled. “But, you seem like a respectful Alpha and you will make an Omega happy one day.”

He sent you a small smile. “Thanks, but what about you? I don’t see a mark on your neck. You don’t have an Alpha?”

You almost wanted to laugh. The idea of having an Alpha was never something that crossed your mind. You loved your independence too much to start relying on someone and, anyway you wanted to focus on something more important to you. “No, I don’t want an Alpha”

“So you would like a Beta more?”

You shrugged. “Maybe, but what I’m saying is I want to focus on me instead of finding someone. I want to focus on my career, you know.”

The guy looked at you with his blue eyes.. “Which is?”

You smiled and took a bite of the muffin. “Soccer.”

Seething.

You were seething by what you were learning right now. Every day, for years on end, you’ve been practicing your favorite sport to get a chance to get where you are right now only for your dream to get snatched right under your nose. All for something you have no control over.

“What do you mean I can’t join the team? This college literally accepted me because I was good at soccer.” Something inside of you was snapping. You wanted to rip this man’s eye out. Your Omega was angry and so were you. 

“Things have changed. The board changed things. We now don't have an omega soccer team anymore.” Said the coach. He was an old Alpha, who looked like he had never kicked a ball in his life. 

“Thats fucking bullshit.” The coach growled and you almost whimpered. The omega in you wanting to submit, but you wouldn’t let yourself do. You wouldn’t let that Alpha stop you from doing something you loved, something you had for, for years. 

“Watch it, omega.” The man growled. “ It is a good decision. You all can’t stop yourself from doing commands, what would happen if an alpha commanded you on the field. You would be rendered useless.” You knew this college was known to have conservative ideas, but their soccer team was one of the best along with another school in the region. You had thought they would’ve let go of those sexist thoughts when they accepted you for your soccer abilities. 

“We can still fight that urge to obey.”

The man slapped his hand on his desk.  “Well I have yet to be convinced of this. This discussion is useless. You won't be part of the team and that is final.”

You growled. “I’ll fucking show you.”

[nonclassyparty]

man with the plan (j.wy) - prologue

Summary: "Don't forget Pretty, I'm serving life plus one. So if I get busted for attempted escape, I'll throw in a homicide in there as well with no problem, that’s like a parking ticket to me." When your brother ends up in jail for a murder he didn't commit, the only thing left for you to do is to find a way to break him out. But after a perfect plan is set in motion, you don't expect a romantic variable to get added into the equation.

Pairing: jung wooyoung x fem. reader, jeong yunho x reader (but if u squint)

Status: coming soon (i hope)

Taglist: if you'd like to be added just reply below! c:

A/N: this is very obviously inspired by prison break ( my favorite show on planet earth), y/n will be very much inspired by michael scofield and i (unfortunately) don't own nor the show nor michael scofield. anyways! wooyoung is the love interest (surprise surprise) but the rest of atz will be present. please let me know if this is something you'd be interested in reading. if i do continue writing it, i plan for it to be written in 3 parts each consisting of 7-9 chapters!

MY MAIN MASTERLIST! // AO3

(prologue)

The buzzing of the tattoo machine is the only thing interrupting the silence in the dark parlor as the needle continues prodding at the skin of your shoulder and makes you grip the chair you sit on.

It used to hurt. A lot. Now, the pain is reduced to a light sting as you suppose you've gotten used to it.

"Almost done. Just finishing touches now." Chao comforts from behind you, soft breath hitting your exposed skin as he wipes away the excess ink.

You only nod in response, never having much to say to him despite his best efforts.

"You know, you've been coming here for almost a year and barely said a word." He comments while he works. "Asking me to work after closing hours and everything, I would've expected to at least get to know you better."

You try to hold back an eye roll as you give him a bland look over your shoulder, eyes coasting over the tattoo of a dragon curling around his neck and disappearing behind his long hair.

"That's why I'm paying you almost double." Is your only response as you play with the sleeves of the button up pooling around your waist.

"So, you're telling me that after tonight, you'll just walk out of here and I'll never see you again?"

"Something like that." You murmur and he huffs behind you.

"I've never done a tattoo this big on a girl before." He continues, always keen on talking even if all he gets is quiet 'mhm's and 'ah's in response. "For a first-timer especially. Usually, it's a name of a boyfriend which they later regret or something artsy but shallow, like a butterfly or some shit."

A smirk tugs on your lips as you peek at him over your shoulder again, "Are you really trying to tell me I'm not like the other girls, right now?"

He grins and it makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. Chao was fairly attractive, handsome in that bad boy-ish type of way where you know he'll definitely put you through hell but you'd have fun with it.

It's unfortunate that you're not in the mood to think about anything like that anymore. You haven't been for the last eighteen months.

"You never even told me what the tatt was all about..." He trails off, bandaging your shoulder up and your eyes fall to the tiles below your feet. "I mean, look at all of this..."

You presume he means the tattoo starting from your lower back, curling around the shoulders and cascading down your arms, stopping at the wrists. The numbers laid over thin lines, intertwined with thicker ones, curling around letters like a snake and creating a piece that no-one can see.

No-one except for you.

It's about my brother's future, you think to yourself.

"It doesn't mean anything. Just thought it would look cool." You chuckle, sliding your hands through the sleeves of your shirt and working on buttoning yourself up, covering the tattoo from the artist who worked relentlessly to stitch it onto you. You turn to him, pulling your hair out from the collar of the shirt as you smile at him. "I guess I'm like all the other girls as well."

Chao stares at you in wonder before his eyes fall to the wad of cash you pull out from your bag and hold out to him.

"Thank you, Chao. You've done a great job."

He sighs again, "It would've been done a lot sooner if it wasn't for your constant nitpicking."

You grin at him while pulling on your jacket and slinging your bag over your shoulder. "What can I say, I'm a perfectionist."

Giving him one last wave, you disappear from the shop.

-

18 months ago;

The collar of your white button up feels like it's strangling you as the buzzer echoes through the stuffy room and two guards appear through the door, dragging him in and sitting him down in the chair opposite of you, making sure to cuff him to the table.

There is only glass separating you but it feels like he's miles away.

Jongho's eyes are dull when they meet your own, dark circles hanging below them and hair messy.

"Y/N..." You have to look the other way, to stop the ugly tears from falling as your heart constricts at his familiar voice.

You haven't seen him since the trial. Didn't have the courage to step anywhere near these walls.

A facility with maximum level security for the biggest scum that roamed your country and wretched chaos on innocent people, inflicted pain and sorrow, terrorized society in the worst of ways.

And now, your brother was one of them.

The person who raised you, took care of you when no-one else did, was serving a life sentence.

Finally gathering the guts to look at him, you clench your jaw and try to ignore the desperation in his eyes. The dark blue uniform engulfs him and is a deep contrast to his usually tanner skin that turned almost ghastly pale just after a week of being in there.

"Did you do it?" You whisper and Jongho looks at you like you just slapped him. His eyes water and he looks absolutely devastated but you have to know. You have to know.

"No." He answers firmly, voice cracking as he blinks away the tears, he never was much of a crier. "No. Of course not."

Of course not.

He says that like it's unimaginable for him.

It was unimaginable to you as well up until three weeks ago.

With a record of petty crimes and a bad temperament, he had a knack for getting himself into trouble that he always managed to get himself out of one way or another. Except this time.

You always knew Jongho was in some deep shit, hanging around people that were bad for him and barely being able to hold onto an honest job for more than a month. 

But that's all he was. A petty criminal with offences that never went past bar fights and getting into discourses with police officers who stop his car for going over the speed limit, not a murderer.

You can't even stop the tear that slides down your cheek as you huff at an attempt to laugh, it comes out choked.

"What about all the evidence then?" Your voice is hoarse as you speak in a hushed tone, recalling the first time you've seen the tape in court.

"I...Y/N, I don't know...All I can think is that someone set me up because I didn't do it, I swear." Jongho stresses, palms laid against the table, desperate for you to believe him. "He was my boss, for fuck's sake."

"He fired you a month before that." You harshly interrupt and he sighs, eyes falling shut as you continue to sniffle with a crumbled face, "What were you doing at his house?"

"Someone told me to go there- I-I thought he was going to give me my job back..." Jongho stutters, his own tears threatening to fall as he presses his lips together. For his lack of excuse or proper explanation, he really does look sincere.

You both sit in silence for a moment, you can almost feel the time you have with him trickling away.

That's all you'll have with him from now on. One hour per week, for the rest of his life and that's only if your time here isn't shared with Yeosang, if he ever decides to muster up the balls to see him.

You're not sure if you're willing to settle for that.

"Swear to me." You finally say, staring at him dead in the eye as his brows furrow, "Swear to me that you didn't do it."

Without a beat, "I didn't do it." Jongho responds, not breaking eye contact. You keep your gaze planted on his face, observing it for any signs of dishonesty. But you fail to find any. "Y/N, I didn't do it. I swear to you."

You stare at him for a second longer before your gaze flies behind him, there are three guards in total in the room. One behind the counter, two by the door.

Your gaze returns to Jongho, who doesn't move a muscle, still looking at you in desperation and what you can only recognize as fear.

He looks a lot younger now, like the Jongho who used to shake every time you two would be on your way to a new foster family. The Jongho that you know was scared to the bones but never wanted to show it for your sake.

You can't lose your older brother.

"Okay."

-

You throw the keys into the bowl near the front door and with a tired sigh kick off your shoes before walking further into your apartment.

The shoulder Chao just worked on ached like hell but the pain almost felt good, served as a reminder that you can't afford to be tired right now.

So without further ado, you walk into your office that when you first moved into the luxurious skyscraper overlooking Han River, was used for working from home or more like, working after you came home from work. 

Now, the office served a different purpose completely.

Your eyes sweep over the filled out wall and window, both covered in an array of information and yellow post-it notes; a product of your relentless work and research over the last eighteen months.

Your hands twitch, you don't want to get rid of it. What if you missed something? What if you made a mistake somewhere? What if something managed to sneak away unnoticed by you?

But having it here, in plain sight where anyone who walks in and is nosy enough to look can see it, can end up being more dangerous than something unforeseen happening. Heck, you already had Mrs. Kim try to enter despite it being locked a couple of times. 

You needed to lose every trace or connection to that prison and the people inside of it, with the exception of Jongho, before Monday.

Besides, what would be the point of Chao and the reason you almost paid him thirty grand? If you don't get rid of this stuff, it would almost be as if you flushed the money down the toilet.

So you grab an empty garbage bag and with a shaky sigh, start ripping down paper after paper, photo after photo and filling out the plastic bag. Article after article flashes before your eyes as the sound of papers ripping fills the room.

'Chungju Detention Center: Level 1', 'Choi Jongho Final Appeal Denied', 'Choi Jongho Convicted To Serve Life For Murder of-', 'Body of Son Changkyu found in his home-', 'Governor's Son Wins Humanitarian Award', 'Life sentence for Kim Hongjoong', 'Park Ha-ru Myth Still Alive Despite Conviction', 'Killer of VP Brother to Serve a Life Sentence at Chungju-'

Once the window is clean and the wall is bare again, only tiny holes from the tacks left as evidence that anything was ever there in the first place and with three bags worth of garbage, you stuff it into the fireplace and throw a match in right after.

You watch the key to your brother's future turn to ashes.

-

The buzzer makes you look up from your hands and you smile a little bit once your eyes meet Jongho's through the glass but it quickly turns to a frown once you notice the enormous bruise running down his jaw.

"Hey." He greets with a stiff smile as the guard cuffs him to the table and turns to walk away.

"What happened?" You jump to question him immediately and Jongho rolls his eyes with a low groan.

"It's not a big deal."

"They beat you up."

"Hey, maybe I was the one who was beating someone else up." He defends trying to lighten up the situation but the frown on your face doesn't budge and he sighs. "I got in a fight with one of the guys in the yard, it's not a big deal, Y/N, shit like that happens here-"

"It can't happen, Jongho. From now on, it can't happen." Now it's Jongho's turn to frown and you sigh, "You'll get thrown into solitary if it gets any worse and then I won't be able to-"

You stop yourself, eyes fleeting to the guard behind the counter. There are no wires surrounding the visitors area due to the building being so old, you would know, you made sure it was the first thing to check once you got your hands on the blueprints. But you can never be too careful.

"I won't be able to see you if you're in solitary." You say, voice gentle and Jongho's eyes soften before he gives you a nod in response.

"Alright, no fighting back, I'll just let them beat me to a pulp then I guess." He shrugs and you roll your eyes. Typical.

"You know that's not what I meant but that smartass attitude is the thing that might be getting you in trouble in the yard in the first place." You quickly retort with a glare as he huffs.

"How's your cellmate?" You ask and Jongho, as he always does when you ask about his roommate, looks confused but today, it's something else as well.

"Oh, I'm actually getting a new one." You freeze at that, blinking rapidly a couple of times.

"What do you mean?"

"They're moving Jisung to the psych ward after he tried to off himself with his bedsheet." Jongho explains like he's talking about the weather and you gape at him, wondering just what goes on in there on the daily if a man trying to kill himself isn't anything out of the ordinary.

But then again, you're not all that worried about Jisung's mental health either but more for the fact that he's gone and now somebody else will take his place.

You can already see a small tiny piece of your tattoo being considered useless now.

But you can't let that bring you down. It's just a small hitch, nothing else.

"Well, do you know who's coming to take his place?" You ask, ignoring the way Jongho eyes you.

He shakes his head in response and your leg starts bouncing in anxiety.

"No, they're moving him in after lunch."

After lunch.

So, you won't know until...

One of the biggest pieces of the plan and it will be unsure until the said plan is set in motion.

Great.

You clear your throat, leaning closer and on instinct, Jongho copies you, "Listen, I won't be able to visit for awhile."

"Why?" Jongho questions, eyes boring into yours and you let out a small breath. "Are you going somewhere?"

"No." Your eyes stray to the two guards by the door, just a couple of feet away. "I just won't be able to visit you for awhile. Maybe. I'm working on preventing that but just in case I don't come next Friday, I wanted you to know."

Jongho eyes you suspiciously before he leans closer again, nose almost touching the glass. "Y/N, what the hell are you doing?"

You bite back a smile, amused that he just knows you, and that only makes Jongho more frustrated. 

"Y/N, did you get yourself in some shit?" He hisses, looking over his shoulder to check if the guard is still by the door, "If you did, call Yeosang. He'll know what to do."

You scoff, "I'm not you to get myself in some shit. Relax, I got a new job."

"New job?" Jongho goes back to being confused, "Why can't you visit then? It's somewhere far away?"

You stare at him before nodding, "Something like that," You whisper.

"Oh, okay. I mean of course, your job is important." He nods and you feel your heart ache inside your chest at his slightly crestfallen face that he tries to cover up. "You're a structural engineer after all, they probably need you to design another fancy building, huh?"

You wish to tell him that you'll be there. You'll be closer to him than he thinks but you can't do any of that until you're properly inside those walls.

"Yeah." You nod, blinking away the tears. You clear your throat, glancing at the clock behind his head. "Hey, Jongho, remember how we used to talk to each other?"

He cocks his head in confusion.

"When we were kids, how we used to talk to each other. For example, when Soyoung was around and we didn't want her to understand." 

Jongho's eyes gain some recognition but the confusion still remains on his face. Hesitantly, he bobs his head, "Yeah."

"Good," You nod, mouth perking up, "You might want to brush up on that."

Jongho opens his mouth to say something more but you're already waving over the guard.

You lean closer to him one more time, staring at his confused face through the glass to whisper;

"See you on Monday."

[nabicube]

Beginning of the Happy Ending: Prologue

Masterlist ◈ Pairings: ot8 x gender neutral atiny reader (lmk if sth isn't gn) ◈ Genre: non-romantic idol au, angst, fantasy (?), all ages (correct me if I’m wrong) ◈ Summary: In the depths of despair, your world feels like it’s crumbling around you—nothing seems to go right. The only source of light in your life, Ateez, is dimmed when your bias, San, suffers a life-threatening accident on stage. Just when it feels like there’s no reason to keep going, an otherworldly being appears with a chilling message: you have only 100 days left to live. But there’s a choice—if you wish hard enough, you can switch places with San and save him from his fate. The decision is yours, but time is running out. ◈ Warnings: Themes of depression and despair, mentions of suicidal thoughts, dysfunctional family dynamics, supernatural elements, mild violence, swearing, idk if this is a warning but brief mention of Felix from stray kids (he's my skz bias hehe) ◈ Note: This series is a non-romantic ot8 x atiny reader story leaning more heavily on San x reader because he is their bias. It will be a compilation of short episodes, rather than chapters, showing how each member would guide you through hard times in real life based on their personalities. The story is more focused on the concepts and ideas than the plot. While there will be no romantic relationships portrayed, members and the reader develop a bond that is beyond just friendship.

Prologue: The End

Word Count: 1365

All it took was a single, cutting remark from your so-called parents—a seemingly insignificant jab that shattered the last remnants of your self-worth. The final barrier holding back the tide of despair had crumbled. Everything seemed to be falling apart.

All your life, you were forced to constantly move around, leaving you with no one you would truly consider a friend. At least nobody who you feel like you can spill all of these dark feelings of yours. You were failing miserably in school, work, your personal life.

You were emotionally drained, just so exhausted. It felt as if you will never escape this hell. You didn’t know what you wanted in life, because you were taken away your will to hope for any kind of future. 

The last thing that was keeping you on earth was your love for Ateez and San, your favorite idols. They’ve helped you through the most difficult times. And now, they’re everything to you in your crumbling life. Their powerful performances, music, and kindness for atiny…they gave you a reason to live.

But then there was the constant judgment from your parents.

“You’re seriously into those idols? Aren’t you too old for that?”

“Why would you waste your time on that? Why don’t you work on your life instead?”

When they insulted them, it almost hurt worse than when they insulted you. You were used to being degraded. However, they don’t deserve to be judged when they have nothing to do with how you are failing completely in life.

But now, you were just so tired.

You posted about how you felt on social media, but as always, no one responded. Most of your followers were bots anyway.

Just as you thought things couldn’t get worse, a post flashed across your screen from one of the kpop news accounts—and the headline you saw made your heart sink.

-------

Breaking: ATEEZ's Choi San Suffers Serious On-Stage Injury During Concert

-------

No. No, No, No. This can’t be true.

Your heart pounded in your chest so fast that your whole body started trembling.

San, the idol you adored more than anything, had been in a terrible accident on stage.

Your mind spiraled into chaos. You searched frantically for updates on San’s condition on your phone, but the situation seemed dire.

Despair washed over you. The one connection you still had to this world, the one thing that gave you a reason to keep going, might be gone.

If San is gone forever from this world, what is the point of staying here alone?

Maybe this was your sign to end it all.

Your vision started blurring, and as the darkest thoughts had almost consumed your entire mind and body—out of nowhere, a reply popped up on your social media feed from an account you didn’t recognize. The icon was the default image, and the username was some kind of random combination of alphabets and numbers.

The reply, clearly directed to your username, read:

“You will die in 100 days.”

What the hell?

You were confused. It was so random, yet it seemed like this random stranger somehow knew your situation.

After the initial confusion, the anger that you did not know who to direct at started boiling up.

You were thinking of what kind of nasty things to reply.

What the fuck? Who are you even? I’ll die when I want to, not when you tell me to.

But just as you started typing, suddenly, a shiver went down your spine. You were terrified, and you had no idea why. Suddenly, you were not alone in this room anymore.

And then you saw IT. Floating in through your closed window without any noise.

Great. Now I’m hallucinating. My brain must really be breaking down.

The entity kept floating closer until it was hovering over your bed. You wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. The only thing you could do was freeze and stare at it with wide eyes.

Does this mean I’m dead? And this thing came to take my soul?

It was tall and impossibly slender, its body a mass of swirling, black tendrils that writhed and twisted like living shadows. Its form shifted in and out of focus, as if the creature wasn’t fully tethered to this world. The entire entity moved with an unnatural grace, like smoke drifting through the air, yet it carried an overwhelming presence.

But then the thing spoke. Its eerie, deep voice was terrifying yet surprisingly soothing at the same time.

“Hey, I’m the one that sent that reply.”

Kind of sounds like Felix from Stray Kids, you thought.

Wait - what the fuck did it just say?

You almost laughed, despite the fucked-up situation, just because while that line was very unlikely to come from a demon… grim reaper…shinigami? Whatever this was, it matched Felix’s voice better than Felix himself. Good choice, my hallucinating brain.

That Felix-sounding thing said slowly:

“You are completely consumed with the thought of death, aren’t you?”

You agree with that. The thing keeps going in a painfully slow, unsettling tone.

“While at it, do you want to make my job easier by switching souls with your favorite idol that’s dying? You could save him in exchange for your life, and I have one less death to deal with. Your body is going to die in 100 days, but…at least he’ll have another 100 days to live, and I get to procrastinate. You can die in his place now, or who knows, his body might survive. Even less work for me. Your choice.”

It took a while to process what it was saying. The product of your imagination seemed to be getting oddly specific and creative.

“W–What? Uh…what the actual fuck? Are you saying I can switch places with San? You’re giving me this power? Why? Why now? What’s the point?”

You can’t believe you’re starting to think this thing is real and trying to converse with it.

The thing doesn’t exactly have a face, but you somehow could sense it was irritated at your response. Its following words were spat out much faster as if it didn’t care to sound scary anymore.

“Um…did you not get the message? I’m fucking lazy. It takes like a whole day for me to process souls after a human dies, especially those by suicide. Oh, by the way…do you care to know how you’ll die in 100 days?”

The ominous character of the thing was slowly starting to fall apart into a more sluggish, human-like one.

“N—no! No, absolutely not!”

That seemed contradictory because you were going to take your life at any moment. But now, since there is a possibility that it could be the cause of death for San, you didn’t want to hear it.

“Alright, alright, I get it.” The thing says in an unserious tone.

Then suddenly, you remembered why you were panicking in the first place.

“I—I want to switch with San! How do I do it? I have to take his place before he dies!”

You were desperate. You were still not 100% confident that this was not your hallucination, but fuck it. You would do anything to save him.

“Just wish for it real hard. Then go to sleep. When you wake up, you’ll have switched.”

“How the fuck am I supposed to sleep in this situation!?” You snapped.

The thing let out a deep sigh. “Okay, whatever–Forget what I said, have a good night…” It said, floating towards the window, mumbling something to itself.

You panicked.

“W-wait! I’ll do it! I’ll try at least, so don’t go!”

The thing paused for a second, then turned your way and crossed its arms lazily, tilting its head, waiting for you to do your part.

You laid down on your side, squeezed your eyes and fists so hard that they hurt.

Breathing heavily, your mind raced, filled with nothing but thoughts of San.

His powerful yet sensual performances. His sweet, dimpled smile. His thoughtful words for atiny.

You kept thinking and thinking until exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster you had experienced, you finally managed to drift off to sleep. You were more tired than you thought.

[n30nwrites]

Bring Me To Life (Prologue)

Summary: Against all odds, you've survived. Having graduated high school and moved out of your Parent's place, your sibling decides to join you for the summer, and your first stop is Santa Cruz in California, you had always wanted to live there anyways so why not now that you're experiencing freedom? One problem: This doesn't look like the 21st century, instead it looks like a scene from your favorite movie, in fact it looks exactly like your favorite movie.

How are you meant to survive in the murder capital of the world? With vampires of all things, and your sibling hates this movie.

a/n: prologue for this fanfic, this will also be on AO3 and wattpad. Preface for this, fuck Max :}

Reader: Male Reader, uses Y/N, third person.

Oc uses they/she pronouns. Will be using both, Y/n refers to them as both sibling and sister, which is okay

Fandom: The Lost Boys

Pairing(s): Michael Emerson x Reader, Paul x Reader, Dwayne x Reader, Marko x Reader, David x Reader, Sam Emerson x Nonbinary! Oc, Edgar Frog x Nonbinary! Oc, Alan Frog x Nonbinary! Oc,

It was one thing moving the United States to California by yourself, it was another thing bringing your 15-year-old sibling with you, not to live with you, but to stay just until summer was over and school was starting again, your parents believed it would help with their 'rebellious streak'. That streak being that they just don't care enough to do class work and keep staying up all night playing video games, therefore they fall asleep in class.

Nik had a firm belief in changing the radio whenever any song that they didn't like came on, and you had a firm belief that your sibling needed to shut up because you liked your music and if you had to drive without some good tunes you would probably turn into the next psycho on the news.

You two did listen to similar music, but for this trip it was specifically 80s and 90s songs that you shouted loudly, windows were rolled down because the air conditioner in your car didn't work. It was small and shitty and cost a year of pay, thankfully your parents were there to let you live rent free. One of the few things you could be thankful for.

"Do you know how to be quiet?" Your sibling groaned, their jacket wrapped around their body despite how hot it was, "Put on Hozier, or Doja, hell I'll even take Taylor Swift over this... What is this shit?"

'Cry little sister'

"I know damn well you aren't talking to me about my music taste-"

'Thou shall not fall'

"What's wrong with mine?"

Come, come to your brother

"It's literally only tiktok songs, half of them aren't even good."

'Thou shall not die'

"At least I don't say 'They sung this on Glee'"

'Unchain me, sister'

"Every hot, mentally ill, gay person went through a Glee faze."

Thou shall not fear

"I didn't"

'Love is with your brother'

"That's why I said hot."

'Thou shall not kill'

You quickly stuck your tongue out in a childish way, before looking back into the road, ignoring your sibling who mumbled and repeated your words. "Theres a reason we're heading to Santa Cruz. Found a nice place right near the beach so we can-"

"Sleep all day, and party all night. I know, you've said it hundreds of times." Nik had heard the phrase from you so many times, you had tried to show them your favorite movie, even almost tricked them into it, but they were quick to leave the room. They simply hated it because you loved it, something you were forced to accept about them.

The car ride became silent as you got closer, to fill it, Nik had turned up the radio as it switched to a different song.

"Finally some MJ." The beat of Billie Jean came in, causing you to start tapping your hands to it as your merged.

"She was more like a beauty queen from a movie scene" The two of you belted the lyrics, switching over the 80s playlist to one consistently of Michael Jackson. "I said don't mind, but what do you mean, I am the one" you shook your head, "Who will dance" you turned to your sibling and sung the words to them before turning back, repeating it each time you sung, "on the floor" again "in the round?" and then turned back, "She said I am the one, who will dance on the floor in the round"

The house that you bought with a loan wasn't the biggest, at least not compared to your parents house. Two bedrooms, One master and One guest, and 1 in a half bathrooms. The half bathroom was connected to the master bedroom, which Nik tried to get but was quickly locked out. They would be staying in the guest room, while you set it up they would help. They were also supposed to attempt to find a job this summer, as their parents wanted Nik to learn some responsibility. 

"Okay, change outfits, shower if you need to! We are going to the beach!" You were excited, thrumming almost. You felt as if you belonged.

"I'm tired."

"Party all night!" You yelled, grabbing a suit case filled with your clothes. The two of you didn't have a lot. A few suitcases filled with clothes, and then a few boxes for the rooms. You didn't even have mattresses yet.

"Let's just sleep a bit." A nap did sound good, you didn't have the best sleep due to the anxiety about the drive.

"Fine, a nap! I'm setting an alarm." Nik went into your room, both of you grabbing the blankets and laying them on the floor, setting up some pillows and collapsing as soon as you could.

Instead of waking up to your alarm, you woke up to Nik shaking your shoulder, harsh rain hitting the window and the house was shaking.

"The doors are opening."

You stood up quick, running out of the bedroom to the backdoor refusing to close. You pushed against it but it quickly fell open, so you held the door. "Grab the heavy boxes." Nik followed through, pushing against the doors as lightning flashed. "It wasn't supposed to storm."

"Don't they get Hurricanes here." A siren went off, "Well-"

"Not another tornado." You groaned. You had your fair shair of them, being where your from. "We need to grab our shit, head to the basement."

The house shook again, you two grabbed your phones and chargers, rushing down into the basement that still had cobwebs. Nik almost ran upstairs at the sight of them, claiming they would rather take their chance with the tornado. You had to basically pulled them down as you two sat in the basement, the house shook as you two fell to the ground, hitting your heads.

Your eyes rolled back, your vision turns black as your body hits the ground. Your siblings hand lays against yours as their body falls onto you, and in that moment, you had gone through the impossible.