iluffyouxo

[iluffyouxo]

[iluffyouxo]

@fureal  ❅ / ❅ / ❅ / ❅ / ❅ / ❅

[iluffyouxo]

[iluffyouxo]

[iluffyouxo]

L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

[iluffyouxo]

― James Baldwin, Just Above My Head

[iluffyouxo]

𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 || 𝚝𝚘̄𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚘̄ 𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚊𝚢𝚊

What exactly do you do when the world falls at your feet? When your freedom is slipping from your fingertips? And no one around you is on your side?

I pace through my room as these unbearable thoughts race through my head. My nails dig deep into my arm until I feel the tiniest trickle of warm blood, and I momentarily hoped the cut wouldn’t scar.

There was a slight moment where I felt like I couldn’t breathe, my vision blurred despite my efforts not to cry, but—before an inevitable panic attack could fully emerge from the twisting pang in my chest—there’s a rapping at my door.

Abruptly halting the tears on my cheeks and the blood running down my palm. I sniff, “Who is it?” My voice rang small in my ears. “Hey, can I come in?” The words were muffled and hard to understand but I knew that unmistakable voice anywhere.

“Renji…?” I slowly opened my door and peaked my head through the crack. However, my brother had taken it as an invitation to push the door against me and welcome himself inside my room.

His back faces me when I turned around to gaze upon him curiously, “What’re you doing here? Shouldn’t you be studying with Rukia and Ichigo at this hour?” Renji only looks at me over his shoulder, “What’re you talking about? It’s almost nighttime, Jakuchō.” With wide eyes my head whips to look out the window to find the night sky closely upon us. Had I truly been moping in my room for hours?

My stare travels downward at the bareness of my feet. “I could’ve sworn it was still the afternoon,” I murmured to myself.

I hear the light steps of Renji walking towards me before his feet—clad in white sneakers—are displayed in my sight. He sighs and pulls me into his chest. “Jakuchō…are you okay…?”

That question, oh, those mere painful words are what I desperately did not want to hear. Especially from my younger brother. Despite our significant age difference of five and a half years, he was much more stronger than I (perhaps due to the fact that he is a boy), I am reprimanded to no end how my younger siblings are better than I.

I had to keep up the façade that I was fine despite receiving such horrid news from father earlier in the day—now proven to have been much later than I had anticipated—I nodded my head yes. “Of course I am—“ But, the fresh tears I felt ruined what little pride I had left, “—not. How could I be? I am to be wed to a man I barely even know. And he’s younger than me, at that!”

I scoff between cries, “Father is disposing of me as if I’m some sort of harlot who’s brought her family to ruin.”

“Well, of course, you hussy,” a high pitched voice cackled behind me, “You brought ruin to us long ago…being born out of wedlock and showing up on our doorstep years later will do that.” I turn in Renji’s grasp to be met with the basis of my torment for all these years. The youngest and the favorite of the Abarai children: Abarai Akari.

Renji snarls as I open my mouth to bite back at her words, “Who the hell asked you Akari?” She ignores him and, much like Renji, she solicits her own welcome into my bedroom.

“An illegitimate child should be wedded off as soon as she’s of age as to not hinder her family any further, isn’t that only fair? Mother and father gave you a roof over your head so you wouldn’t be alone in the world when that whore died—serves her right.” Akari cackles at her words as I glare at her.

“You evil wench!” Her words, suddenly, holds venom as she began to yell at me. “Father should’ve turned you down into the mud! Now he’s seen his mistake and I’ll be the rightful heir to his company!” Akari points and cackles maniacally.

Renji finally lets go of me with a huff, “Wouldn’t I be next in line?” Akari scoffs, flipping her hair over a dainty shoulder, “Oh, please, you’re far too stupid to handle a business; you’re better off going to the military than making the family bankrupt.”

With a sly smile across her pale face she twirls around to leave. “Please, you two, do good by the Abarai name and make me an only child.” It was only when her obnoxious guffawing echoed through the hall that I realized I hadn’t gotten a word in through her maddening monologue.

Renji and I turn to each other in disbelief. “I fucking hate her; how the hell is she our little sister with that horrible attitude?” I laugh, “I suppose she gets it from you, Renji, and your friends.”

“What!? We don’t talk to each other that way!” I shrug, “You could’ve fooled me.”

And it was in that moment that I could almost laugh at the situation thrust upon me. But, an arranged marriage was truly no laughing matter. The pitiful churning in my stomach made sure I was aware of that fact.

:::::

The next morning there’s a light knock on my door, but it was loud enough for me to stir in my sleep. I peak an eye open and look over at the door. “Yes?”

My voice was hoarse, giving away the long night of crying I had. I’m met with blue hair and a friendly smile when the door creaks open. I sit up in surprise and grin, “Hoshiko!”

“In the flesh.” She returns my grin. Suzuki Hoshiko was a childhood friend of mine and one of the people who were by my side as I transitioned from a baker’s daughter with no prospects or connections to her name to the reclaimed eldest of an established family whom was found to be born out of a secret relationship a few years prior to my father’s own arranged marriage.

“Wait, wait, wait—so, your parents are marrying you off to the second son of Hitsugaya Akimitsu? No gotdamn way.” Despite her disbelief I give her a disheartened nod. “Yeah…way.”

Hoshiko’s shocked expression softens and she quickly pats my leg. “I’m so sorry Jakuchō, I thought your dad had finally accepted you.” I sigh, “I thought he did, too.”

“I’m telling you, it’s that brat and her mother’s idea. You ‘taint’ their pale family with your brown skin. But, I promise, there’s no denying that you’re his, not with that bright ass red hair. You, ma’am, are an Abarai through and through.”

We laugh at that. Hoshiko was truly the friend I needed to see right now. She tends to remind me of happier days.

:::::

“Ms. Jakuchō, you look absolutely stunning,” my only personal maid, Hana, gazed upon me with an admirable glint in her eye.

Today was the day I was meant to formally meet my future husband—a man I had only ever seen from afar. I was required to dress my best and, I had to admit, Hana did not disappoint. After all, as a homebody, she seizes any opportunity to dress me up.

The dress was midnight blue with a large slit on the right side and pooled at my heeled feet. It had a corset bodice and thin straps that tied at the top. And the skirt held a sheer thin layer that shimmered like stars when I moved. “I didn’t even know I owned such a beautiful dress.”

Hana grinned, “You didn’t; your father bought the dress as a gift.” I turned to her, “Wha—really?” She nods profusely in her excitement. I smiled despite the sadness I felt. “I guess he really is trying to rid of me.”

She sends me a pathetic look that causes me to shiver. That look was worse than anything Akari could ever say to me. “Oh, dear, is that what you think…?” Hana looked as if she had more to say but was abruptly cut off by Renji entering the room.

“Just a heads up,” he points towards the open door, “the Hitsugaya family is outside; mom, dad and Akari are waiting for us in the foyer.”

I inhale and nod, “Okay…let’s go.” Renji holds out his arm once we reach the top of the grand stairs and I take his bicep into my hand and the curled sweet cherry wood railing into the other. My father, stepmother and Akari were all familiar faces that met us at the bottom of the steps, and with them were four men and two women—all of whom varied in age.

Three brothers, one sister, a mother and a father. They were all to be my in-laws in due time. All but one, he was to be my potential husband. Hitsugaya Tōshirō. The second eldest son of the infamous Hitsugaya clan. A reclaimed name spoken with the highest regard here in Yokohama—and neighboring cities.

Their name has been one of the richest since the Edo period due to the head of the family (who was a woman at the time) who came across an abandoned mine of jewels on her long journey across the countryside. And they’ve resided in Yokohama ever since.

I bow with my brother in greeting and smile, “Good evening, I’m Abarai Jakuchō, the eldest.” Renji points at himself with a self-satisfied grin, “And I’m Abarai Renji, the second eldest and best looking.”

My eye twitches at Renji’s antics and I elbow him as discreetly as possible. “Please, excuse my brother,” I speak through my grin.

Akari takes this opportunity to cut in, “Our dear brother lacks the proper etiquette, that education went to me.”

“Hey! I do not!”

I sigh. This is going to be a long night.

:::::

Once the Hitsugaya’s were able to introduce themselves the party immediately flocked to the dining room, and I could tell Akari’s mom had put a lot of thought into the dinner she ordered our chiefs to make.

Fruit salad, miso soup, sushi, baby bok choy, tamagayaki, katsudon, edamame tofu and, for dessert, cheesecake and sake. All the known favorites of our esteemed guests.

And through the laughter and talks of wedding cake I couldn’t help but notice how silent Tōshirō fell, even with his own family. He seemed cold and distant and uptight. All the things I noticed about him when our eyes first met at my belated sixteenth birthday ball.

Even five years later he remained the same. However, he was significantly taller than me now and his hair had gotten longer. And his eyes a lot more thin and hooded, it made his face more masculine and mature than how rounded they were the last time we had met.

His looks are one thing but if he refuses to speak, how else am I supposed to get to know my future husband? How am I supposed to know who Tōshirō is outside of his surname?

A name I may soon carry…

:::::

After dinner the men went off to the den to discuss God knows what (excluding Renji who decided to sneak out and meet Rukia) and the women waltzed to the parlor. Much like Renji, though, I excused myself to have a breather outside in the garden.

There was only so much gossip I could handle. That was very much so Hoshiko’s territory.

The moon was full and shone bright tonight in the midst of a starless sky. A few birds chirped and a little ways away I could hear the calming waterfall of the fountain. The night was peaceful.

“You don’t have to marry me, y’know.” A deep voice sounded behind me. I gasp and whip around to see Tōshirō walking up to me, hands cast inside his slacks’ pockets. Whatta cool guy, huh? I sarcastically remark in my head.

I turn back around and sigh, “I’m a burden to this family. It’s better off if I wed into a well-off family and create a tie between us. It’s the most useful thing I can do…I suppose.”

And even to my own ears I didn’t sound very confident in my words. “Who’re you trying to convince? Me…or you?”

Another sigh escapes my lips as he sits down on the bench beside me. I glance down at my quivering hands. It was starting to get chilly out. “I—I don’t even know.”

“Well, here’s a simple question: do you want to marry me?”

I glance up at him, he was already looking down at me, and I laugh, “I don’t even know you, sir.” He smirks, “Yes, you do.”

I shake my head and look at him fully. “No, I don’t. I know your name. I know of you. But, I don’t know you, and you don’t know me. So, why would I want to? This is purely out of duty and obligation.”

A pained expression flashed across his features momentarily before he’s sitting up straight with a slight tilt of his head. “Then, let’s get to know each other, and if you don’t like me, we’ll call off the wedding.”

I blink. “What…?” He tsks and sits back against the bench, “Let’s postpone the arrangement and date. If you don’t at least like me by the end of December, we’ll call off the engagement.” December? That’s eight months from now.

“What about you? If you don’t like me, will you call it off?” He grins up at the moon, “Impossible. I’m the one who proposed this engagement in the first place.” My eyes grow wide and I audibly gasp, “You—what?”

He turns his gaze back towards me and it was then that I noticed his eyes were a deep shade of turquoise. The complete opposite of the brown irises of the rest of his family. They were pretty…he was pretty.

“I like you already, have for the last five years, I think.” Eh!? Since my birthday ball? We didn’t even speak back—oh, wait…

“Back when we danced in the garden together…? I helped you get away from all those girls,” I chuckle at the forgotten memory. “Ah—so, you remember. Do you remember what you told me back then?”

“…That I’d be your fake fiancé whenever you needed.”

Tōshirō leans in close, our lips damn near touching, “So, how about we make it official? Let’s date.”

I grin, “Alright, fine, and after seven months, I’ll give you my answer.” He returns my grin and I suppose that I might not need to wait until December after all. And just then I feel something cold grace my arm.

When I look up the moon is covered with dark clouds and snowfall begins to adorn the rose bushes. “What? Snow? It’s the middle of Spring.”

Tōshirō chuckles in my hear and the tresses of his white hair tickles my neck. He had rested his head upon my shoulder. “I guess winter came back early.”

Oh, this boy isn’t going to be good for my heart. I can already feel my resolve wavering. Is it too late to take this deal back?

I might fall in love too quickly.

#black writers #excerpt from a book i'll never write #black female reader #black oc #fanfiction #fanfic #blasian oc #bleach imagines #bleach #bleach au #bleach fanfiction #toshiro hitsugaya #bleach toshiro #toshiro x reader #toshiro imagine #bleach imagine #arranged marriage #love at first sight #renji abarai #renji x rukia #bleach renji #renji #renji x reader #toshiro x you #bleach ichigo #ichigo kurosaki #ichigo

[iluffyouxo]

ρℓυм αηԃ ѕυցαя || ℓєση ѕ. кєηηєԃу

Resident Evil 4 — leon s. kennedy x black, female oc

There was something in his boyish look as he stared into space, a hand stuck in between the tresses of his ash blonde hair.

Next to him, on the table, sat a half-empty glass of Hennessy and, in front of him, the tv displayed a show Sigrid had forgotten the name of.

Not that it really mattered.

She could tell he wasn’t paying attention to the background laughter and characters’ smiles shown on screen.

Rather he was glancing behind it at the window which faced a high view of the city line that met the downcast of the evening sky.

Leon had returned from his trip to Spain quicker than Sigrid had anticipated.

It had been a rather dull, grey afternoon spent cleaning indoors—though, in that late hour, the winds began to moan and the rain crashed against the window panes—when Sigrid opened the door to a drenched and noticeably jaded Leon Kennedy. “Oh, Leon…”

It was her usual greeting upon his typical unannounced arrivals.

Though, she never knew the context of his trips, she knew that they were important and never questioned why or how he was leaving for some no-name town in another country in the earliest hours of the morning—or be it the middle of the night.

The two weren’t dating, the two weren’t lovers, they were only roommates that had survived the same tragedy. Roommates that held the same trauma. It was best that they didn’t fall in love.

(Even if Leon had already broken that unspoken rule).

She didn’t really have a right to know. He could walk right out of her life, and it wouldn’t really matter. They weren’t even best friends—that title easily belonged to Chris and Claire.

However, that didn’t stop Sigrid from getting to know him better than the back of her right hand.

Leon had a huge sweet tooth, and the one weirdest combination that never failed to cheer him up was her mom’s sugarplum cake.

And she was currently plating a slice on one of her more aesthetically designed plates. “Here, Leon,” Sigrid hands him the plate, “I made you mom’s cake.”

He glances down at the plate in his hands before placing it on the table in front of him and giving her a quick nod in gratitude…or acknowledgement.

Sigrid sighs, planting a quick kiss atop his head, “I’m gonna be gone for a few days to visit my aunt. You’ll be okay, right?”

Sigrid knew he wouldn’t. After the five years of being roommates with each other, it took only a few months for her to gauge the fact that Leon had an abandonment issue—a severe one at that.

In the recent years there have been a few times that Leon knocked on her bedroom door (most likely after awakening from a nightmare) at the hopes that she was still there. That she hadn’t left him behind. And he’d sleep on her floor without a word of granting explanation in the morning.

Leon looks up at her, pale blue eyes glossed over, and his lips parted in an attempt to speak. “I…” What exactly was he going to say? No? He couldn’t keep Sigrid from seeing her family. That’d be selfish.

(Even if his second mind told him to say no. Even if he wanted so badly to tell her to stay).

“Ummm…yeah, I’ll be fine,” his voice cracked. “I’m no Boy Scout in need of babysitting.” The dim-witted joke catches Sigrid off guard and she huffs out a laugh. “Then, I’ll leave the house to you and your terrible jokes.”

Leon returns Sigrid’s halfhearted laugh with a small grin. He liked it when she made fun of his idiocies.

Leon leaned against the doorframe, watching as Sigrid pulled out a large suitcase from under the bed. It hadn’t been touched since they had first moved in together. Her tight coils had been pulled into a high afro puff and he thought it looked like a crown atop her head.

He had come back to her hair dyed a pearl blonde and it was pretty, a nice contrast to her dark brown skin. His own ash blonde didn’t fit him well since his skin and eye color was already pretty pale. Leon just guessed he was meant to be a somber and dry person.

“Hey, Leon.” He blinks out of his daze, turning to look up at her. “You’re crying.”

Leon lifts a hand to his cheek…oh, my face is wet. He uses the back of his wrists to wipe at his eyes. “…Sorry.” Sigrid was already in front of him, though, forcing his hands away and using her thumbs to brush his cheeks. “You said you’d be okay.”

He downcasts his blueberry gaze. “Leon…you lied to me again, didn’t you?” Of course she knew the answer to this. But, obvious questions were the only way to get him to talk. “I’m…no, I won’t be okay. Sorry.”

With a sigh Sigrid reaches around his shoulder, Leon instinctively flinches, to rest her fingers in the thin strands of light grey tresses. Sigrid begins pushing his head down leading him to lay his head on her shoulder. She sighs again and leans her head against his gently. “Just ask me to stay, my aunt will understand.”

Sometimes he forgot how sympathetic—or, rather, perceptive—Sigrid is. Despite her dominant demeanor and introverted attitude. It was the main reason why the pair lived with each other in the first place.

She could apprehend the feelings of his, considering Sigrid had also survived Raccoon City just a year prior. The imagery daunting and fresh. They had been interrogated by the same secret service (though, he had been the only one recruited by them).

With his attraction seemingly evident by everyone but her and Sigrid’s own kindness they had decided to take up an apartment somewhere in the suburbs of Washington DC. And they’ve lived with each other for the past five and a half years. Even so, sometimes he does forget why he likes her because it just feels…right to have this fondness weld up.

“I almost died, again; I almost didn’t keep my promise to not end up a Leon pancake.” Sigrid genuinely laughs at that, “You’re so silly, Leon.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles into her oversized hoody. It smelled of morning dew and woody sage. The fragrance was completely Sigrid Monroe. “I think that’s why I like you.”

Leon quickly jumps out of Sigrid’s embrace at her remark. She smiles, “And I know you like me, too.”

Before Leon can respond back Sigrid takes his hand in hers. “C’mon, your sugarplum cake is waiting on you.” Leon decides to keep quiet and grin. Sigrid’s said everything, anyways. No sense in ruining a good thing.

#black writers #excerpt from a book i'll never write #black female reader #black oc #fanfiction #fanfic #resident evil #resident evil 4 #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy imagine #imagine #resident evil imagines #out of character talk ( ooc ) #ooc leon kennedy #abandonment issues #fluff #leon kennedy fluff

[iluffyouxo]

ᖇOOT ᗷᗴᗴᖇ || ᗪᗩᖇYᒪ ᗪI᙭Oᑎ

the walking dead — daryl dixon x black, female reader

The little things? The little moments? They aren't so little. The most beautiful things in life are not just things. They're people, places, memories and pictures. They're feelings, moments, smiles and laughter. That's what I like about photographs the most; it's proof that for a moment—even for just a heartbeat—everything was perfect.

I avert my gaze towards another framed photo displayed amongst the plethora of others sprawled apon the chipping grey walls.

Then, my heart stops for a beat at the image presented before me. Two figures—one male, the other female—pulling each other close into an embrace. Their grins wide and miraculous. And I couldn't help but to smile back at them.

"Bishop? Bishop, where are you?" The desperation in the pleas of my partner alerted me and I immediately turned the corner to the steep staircase of the well-kept mansion. "Andrea...what's wrong?"

I found her walking out of the kitchen, a black tote bag overflowing with cans weighing down on her shoulder. She placed her blonde hair into a makeshift ponytail as sweat beaded down her dirt covered face and arms before pointing her thumb behind her. "I found the jackpot," She grinned, "Hurry and fill your bag up as much as you can. We're about to be late."

At the mention of being late, I scurry down the last few steps to the main hall and made a beeline straight for the kitchen.

Quickly, I stuff my bag with canned vegetables and fruit, boxed crackers, bottles of water, an unopened bag of old halloween candy and some fruit snacks. Out of the corner of my eye I catch a glimpse of something shining in the descending sun. I focus on it completely and my eyes widen in surprise. "Is that a six pack of root beer? How has no one raided this place yet?"

Andrea walks up behind me, a knowing smirk on her face. "I don't know, probably because raiding a mansion in the hills is pretty intimidating. But I knew you'd be happy finding those for Daryl." I blink up at her. "Daryl? These aren't for Daryl, these are for me." I make my way towards the front door with the pack of soda in hand.

The image of the picture upstairs flashed through my mind as I started walking out and I hastily ran up the stairs to snatch the picture off of the wall.

"What did you forget?" Andrea asks as I fall into step with her. "A picture." Her thin brows furrow in question. "Did that house belong to someone you knew?" I shake my head, "No. But the people in the picture looked happy. I want to carry their happiness with me." Andrea sends me a confused glance but questions me no further. "Alright, whatever floats your boat."

"Bishop, what took you so long?" I turn away from Andrea at the concerned voice. "Sorry, Rick, we ended up wandering a bit further onto the hill. We found a mansion, completely untouched." Andrea shows off her tote filled to the brim with canned goods. "We were able to fill our bags full of food! And there's even more than this!"

Rick only frowns. "Why would you two wander off so far? What if it had been overrun by walkers?" Andrea only rolls her eyes. "But, it wasn't. Bishop and I can take care of ourselves. Especially Bishop. You know that." Yet he still only stares down at us. I sigh, "Right, sorry. It won't happen again. Next time we'll be more vigilant and won't stray away from the group."

My partner gawks at me. "Bishop." However, I bear her no mind. Rick nods in approval before tending to the other members of our impromptu team.

"Hey, what was that back there?" The blonde catches my arm as I stalk towards Dale's RV. "Discipline, Andrea. Rick is our leader, and as such he stands in the right to put us in our place. In this group we have no rank nor a say so. We do as we're told unless suggested otherwise."

She crosses her arms at me, lips pursed in annoyance. "So, what? You're his pliant puppy now?" I freeze at her words. "I am no one's puppy. Rick knows that I could kill him with a simple flick of my wrist if I wanted to. Nevertheless, I respect him as my leader. You should do the same, Andrea." With that said I started walking towards the RV again.

I toss myself onto the bed, rolling my shoulders back with a sigh. "Pliant puppy, huh?" A snicker sounded from the opened door. "Shut up," I grumble laying down.

There was silence as footsteps approached me and I was soon met with an unwelcomed bodyweight shifting on top of me, a head plopping down on my shoulder. I run my fingers through his hair as I try evening out my breaths. "For such a shy person, you sure do love cuddling on top of me." I chuckle as I could practically feel the heat rise to his face. "Shut up," He mumbles, "Yer jus' comfy, is all." I hum in response.

"It's gon' rain soon," He breaks the tranquility of our little break from reality as he shifts on top of me. "We should tell the others to get ready, smells like 's gonna be a big storm." I nod. "Alright. I'll find Carol and Sofia and tell them to camp in here for the night. Does your motorcycle have gas?" He nods. "Yeah."

Despite our discussion we don't move from where we lay comfortable in each other's embrace. Much like the framed photo I stashed away in my bag. "By the way, I brought you a six pack of root beer." He nuzzles into my shoulder. "Really? Thanks. I ain't had none since we left the city." I smile slightly. "I know."

And still it wasn't until the first few droplets of rain pattered on the window pane that we decided it was time to get up and prepare for the storm to hit. But not before enjoying a shared can of root beer.

#black writers #excerpt from a book i'll never write #black female reader #black oc #fanfiction #fanfic #blasian oc #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x oc #daryl x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #twd daryl #twd daryl dixon

[iluffyouxo]

hꪮᥒꫀᥡ ᥣꫀꪑꪮᥒ ᖯᥣᥲᥴk tꫀᥲ || jꫀꪮᥒ jᥙᥒgkꪮꪮk

방탄소년단 — jeon jungkook x black, female oc

It was a bright morning, almost nippy when the wind blew at a certain pace. The pavement glistened like a carpet of crushed diamonds in the early morning sunshine. Though, the few grey clouds that dotted the sky made a promise of rain later on in the day—and, if the weather report is reliable enough to go off of, that later would be sooner than noon.

However, despite those warnings, I decided to go on my Saturday morning walk to gain inspiration for my artwork.

I had been in a slump for months now and, if I’m being honest with myself, it’s mostly due to my poor life balance between school, work and my own sanity. So, maybe a long walk through campus will do me some good…hopefully.

“Kyoko? What’re you doing out here so early?”

A familiar voice and a pair of steps sounded from behind me. “Zenni and Chae Yeong? Hey!” I smiled as my two closest friends walked up to me in cropped hoodies and sweats. “I’m going on a walk, and you?” Zenni smiles back at me, “Same here.”

“It’s too pretty of a morning not to,” Chae Yeong finished, “How about we walk together?” I nod, “Yeah, that sounds fun.”

•

“So, have you seen him…?” Chae Yeong mumbles to us as if she’s telling the world’s darkest secret. I raise an eyebrow at her. “Seen who?” Zenni voices my thoughts.

“The new student? Jeon Jungkook?”

My eyes grow wide and I gasp, “No way. The Jeon Jungkook…? Nope…never heard of him.” I chuckle as Chae Yeong huffs and slaps my arm. “I’m being serious Kyoko!”

“Okay, so who’s this ‘Jeon Jungkook’ you speak of?” Zenni asks between amused snickers. Chae Yeong’s eyes sparkle as she begins to explain.

“I first met him in Professor Mae’s class. She was in the middle of explaining our social marketing project when he ran in panting and apologizing. And he sat down next to Bin Mi-Gyeong, lucky bitch. He has dark hair, a tattoo sleeve and wears all black. From what I gathered he’s a gamer on YouTube from Busan with over twelve million subscribers and eight million followers on Instagram. He curates at least one point two million likes between both platforms almost every day—Instagram, of course, gaining the most the fastest.”

Chae Yeong pulls out her phone and shoves it into our faces, my eyes forced to see a rather aesthetically pleasing Instagram page of an almost bunny looking, doe eyed boy.

“And he’s talented at everything he does. Just name it! Dance, singing, drawing, photography, boxing! He’s good at it all!”

I cross my arms. “And you just found out all of this…today?” The brunette only nods as she begins scrolling through the guy’s pictures—of which I’m sure she’s done a million times in the past hour.

“Come to think of it, I have heard of him,” Zenni starts, “Frankie Lennox was gossiping about him to her group of friends in class yesterday.”

“He just got here and he’s already making a fuss? I dunno if I’mma like this Jungkook guy,” I grumble. Chae Yeong just waves me off. “Oh, please, you say that now. But, wait until you see him. He missed most of his classes yesterday, but you share all of his morning courses.” Zenni laughs, “Be sure to say hi to him for me.” I roll my eyes, “Whatever.”

•

“Bak Yong, is that him? The one everyone’s been gawking over?” She sends me a dirty look but nods before returning back to her schoolwork.

Truthfully, I couldn’t help but to feel a bit curious. The boy had been the talk of the town lately. He and his friend, Bak Jimin, were rising in fame at the school rapidly. It was almost scary how far looks alone could get you. That’s definitely something I could never relate to. I sigh. “Someone like him would totally end up with someone like Zenni or Chae Yeong…maybe even Yoko.”

Yoko was my younger sister of two years. But, even so, I seemed like the youngest. She was more beautiful and more talented than I ever was. And it had always been that way. Though, I had never been jealous of her…I could only ever be proud of her accomplishments. Proud of the fact that she had never ended up like me.

In a weird way, I guess that makes me kind of pathetic.

•

Another day had passed and I found myself in my pajamas eating ramen with Zenni and Chae Yeong. “You saw him today, right?”

“For damn near five hours.”

“What was your reaction?” I sigh, “I only thought of how he would be a perfect match for Yoko.”

There was a long pause after that (the only sound cutting the silence was the slurping of my noodles).

“Yoko? Why do you think so highly of her?” Zenni questions, and I could hear the faint trace of frustration in her voice. I shrug. “I’m just proud of who she’s become. I am her older sister after all.” Chae Yeong growls, “You know she doesn’t think the same of you.” I only shrug again. “What does that matter? She’s better than me in every way…and that’s okay.”

“And do you really think that?” Zenni raises an eyebrow at me. I nod. “Of course, why wouldn’t it be?” I smile at her before looking down at the empty broth of my cup noodles.

It is okay, right?

•

“Now that I’ve explained your semi-finals project, I’ll be calling out the groups I chose. Since the class is uneven, there will be one team of three. Sītú Chan-juan and Kim Nabi, Ahn Min Jeong and Cha Ga Eul, Jeon Jungkook and Kangjeon Kyoko, Seok Nari and Asaki Luan—“

The world sat still for a moment. Everything went mute. And I could only focus on the fact that Professor Nam had just announced that Jeon Jungkook was my art project partner.

I could practically feel the hundreds of jealous eyes burning holes into every side of my head. I gulp.

I am so dead.

“Bak Yong, Bak Jimin and Seonghun Min. Please, go sit next to your partners. These will be your new assigned seats for the remainder of the year since you will have the same partners for the finals. Get started when you’re ready and remember to have fun, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

The months of effort I put in to ignore him just so I could avoid a situation such as this one went down the drain as soon as Jungkook sat down in what was once Bak Yong’s seat. I groan, “What a disaster.”

“What’s a disaster?” He blinked at me with innocent eyes and a cheerful grin. “Hi, I’m Jungkook, nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” I mumble. “Kyoko.”

“So, you’re Yoko’s older sister, huh?”

At the mention of Yoko’s name I sit up straight in my seat and turn all the way to face him. “You know Yoko?” He nods. “Yeah, we’re close friends. She told me that you think the world of her so, mentioning her would get me on your good side. You’re really scary and cold, did you know that?”

I glare at him. “How do you know Yoko?”

“She’s a really popular singer on YouTube these days. We met playing Among Us during a livestream with some mutual friends.” I purse my lips, “Well, if you’re good enough to be Yoko’s friend then, I guess you’re okay.”

“She said you’d say that, too…but, she doesn’t speak very highly of you.” I shrug. “So? Anyways, let’s get working on the project.”

•

A week. An entire week has past since I became Jungkook’s desk mate and project partner.

An entire week of threats and bullying. An entire week of bloody fights and teacher conferences.

An entire week of no motherfucking peace.

And yet Jungkook sat in front of me with the most carefree smile and, truly, wholeheartedly, I wanted to deck him in his pretty face so damn bad. But, instead, I grind my teeth together and continue searching for a reference for the portrait we decided to work on.

“Kyoko…?” His voice is soft as he murmurs my name. I glance up at him. “Yeah?”

“Can I…use you as reference for the portrait?” He’s shy as he asks. It really made me want to punch him even more.

“Why? Just use Yoko,” I reply dismissively.

“But, I—“

I glare at him.

“I wanna draw you.”

I sigh and sip my coffee. What the hell for? Though, as I continue to stare at him, I couldn’t bring myself to voice my thoughts. “Alright, fine, but don’t be upset with me when the painting gets ruined.”

And in turn his infamous bunny smile is directed at me as a faint blush dusts his cheeks. “Thanks.”

•

At some point honey lemon black tea—that and iced coffee—became my favorite drink to sip on while perfecting my art skills. And I had shared my newly found obsession with Chae Yeong, Zenni, Yoko and Jungkook.

It wasn’t long before him and I began sharing one cup with two straws of the sourly sweet flavored tea as he sketched me in his notebook more times than I cared to remember and as I sketched out different backgrounds for the easel.

“Y’know…you’re really pretty, Kyoko.”

“Stop mumbling nonsense.”

Jungkook had also become a lot more bolder and a lot more frequent when it came to voicing his nonsensical thoughts. Which, more or less, were compliments directed at me.

“But, it’s not nonsense. I really think so,” he continued confidently.

I put down my pencil with a sigh. “You don’t have to lie to me to get on my good side, Jungkook, I already like you.”

The ravenette blinks harshly at me before his nose scrunches up disapprovingly, “You can’t even tell a compliment from an insult. Does everyone really think that lowly of you?” I only shrug. “When you have the most perfect and beautiful younger sister, you’re kinda always compared. And…I’m okay with that.”

It’s silent for a moment too long, and I think the conversation is over, when he lets out a frustrated groan.

“I know we’ve known each other for barely a month now but, I’ve known your sister for two years and I think that—“ He cuts himself off, his face flushing a potent bright red. I raise an eyebrow at him, a gesture that he continue his sentence.

“…I think you’re more worth it than she is.”

“Worth what?” I breathed.

“Everything that she has and more.”

I glance up at him for a while. Trying to grasp onto every word he’s stated. I’m worth that much to him? That thought alone caused me to smile at him. “Whatever,” I chuckle, “Just get back to work.”

I pick up my pencil again, ready to begin drawing, when his next words caused me to drop it on the floor and abruptly stand up from my chair, “I like you, Kyoko.”

My fists begin to quiver as I glare down at him. “Alright, dude, you can stop now. Do you really think I’m that gullible? I can’t believe you.”

I hastily grab my things and rush out of the main campus library. “What an idiot,” I huff.

•

I didn’t see him for the next few days after that. We occasionally sent pictures of our progress to the project and some times, every now and then, he’d send a voice memo of him singing American slow jams.

Other than that…the weekend was quite boring.

“It hasn’t even been a month since we started talking to each other, do you think he actually likes me?” I voice my thoughts to Zenni as she smacked on some cereal she had ordered from abroad. Chae Yeong was in her room cussing out some poor fella on her team in Apex.

“Kyoko…he’s liked you far longer than that,” Zenni speaks as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “What the hell makes you say that?”

“He came up to us not too long before your project began, asking us if you hated him and if there was a way to make sure you two became partners. He said that Yoko gave him a misinterpreted version of yourself and that you’re the exact opposite of who she said you were.”

“It sounds as if Yoko is jealous of you,” Chae Yeong interjects. “She wanted to make sure Jungkook never liked you. Guess that backfired.”

Chae Yeong turns around from where she had been rummaging through the fridge. “So, are you gonna call him?” She takes a sip of her beer before heading back inside her room.

•

The phone rang once…twice…, “Hello? Kyoko?”

My breath hitches at the sound of his voice. This is the first time we’ve spoken on the phone. I clear my throat. “D’you wanna go to the gaming basement with me?”

I hear him take in a quick breath before humming. “Uh…yeah, sure. That sounds fun.”

“Yeah? Okay. Does around twelve sound good?”

He hums again. “Yeah, that’s fine. C’ya then.”

•

Somehow, in the middle of playing COD, his lips met mine after a well-deserved victory. “You didn’t push me away,” he breaths. I chuckle, “Don’t worry, I thought about.” I sit back in my seat and hum. “But, you’re a damn good kisser, Mr. Jeon.”

He blinks, shocked by my bluntly honest answer, “Really? Well—uh—thanks.”

I lean in close with a small grin, poking his nose, “Lemme kiss you again, okay?” Jungkook begins coughing with wide eyes and leans away. “Eh!? You can’t just say stuff like that Kyoko!” I laugh, “Why not? I liked it so, naturally, I’d wanna do it again.” I lay my head on the table and grab his hand.

“I kinda like you…I wanna kiss you more than once.” Being so honest was foreign to me, however, I didn’t mind it all that much.

After getting over his initial shock Jungkook laid his head down next to mine. “Then, do me a favor—“ he pecks my lips, “—become my girlfriend.” I hum. “Sure, why not? I’d be doing you a favor.” He chuckles and grips my hand back, “Yeah, you would be.”

•

“WHAT? He’s your boyfriend now!?” Chae Yeong yells in my face. She squeezes my shoulders. “The progress happened so quickly!”

“Yeah, it did,” I smile to myself.

It was a cloudy morning as Chae Yeong and I walked around campus. We were meeting up with Zenni and Jimin (who had began dating not too long ago) at our local coffee shop Honey Lemon. Kind of an ironic name. “Kyoko!”

I perk up at the voice that beckoned me. “Kookie.”

Chae Yeong waves happily at him as his steps sync with ours. “Heading to the cafe?” He grabs my hand and intertwines our fingers. I nod. “Yeah.”

“Then, let’s go together.”

I grin, “Mmmm. Yeah, let’s go.”

“You guys are such love birds,” Chae Yeong cackles, “But, I totally called it.”

#black writers #excerpt from a book i'll never write #black female reader #black oc #fanfiction #fanfic #blasian oc #kpop imagines #kpop crushes #jeon jungguk #jeongguk #bts fic #bts jungkook #bts jung jungkook #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts #bangtan fanfic #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan #jungkook x original character #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x black reader #bts fluff #jjk x y/n #jjk fluff #jjk #jjk fanfic

[iluffyouxo]

𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚜 || 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚕𝚎𝚎

NCT — mark lee x black, female oc

November had quickly rolled into December—though, I was still stuck in a Halloween mood—and all throughout the city were lights and elves and white santa statues galore.

Every store was damn near a blinding declaration of Christmas cheer.

A strong gust of wind zipped past causing a strong shiver to spark up my spine, pulling my coat more against me, as snow glistened and crunched under my boots.

I grumbled and hissed and huffed.

I’m cold, my nose is runny and I haven’t even gone Christmas shopping yet. Christmas was just a week away. And if I have to hear Mariah Carey sing about how much she wants me for Christmas one more damn time, I think I’ll lose it! I just wanted all of this Christmas joy bullshit to be over with as soon as possible.

Call me a grinch but, Christmas and I don’t get along. Not since I was a child.

If I didn’t have to celebrate Christmas for the rest of my life, absolute bliss would be an understatement of the century.

As I continue to grumble about my misfortunes there’s a buzz in my pocket and I quickly fish out my phone. “Hey, Grinch!” A tiny voice cackled in my ear. I roll my eyes and chuckle, “Hey, Nelle, what’s up?”

“I just wanted to make sure you weren’t lost in wonderland.”

At that statement I realized, in the midst of my self loathing, I forgot to pay attention to where I was going. I began to glance at my surroundings before sighing, I was most certainly…, “…lost. I’m lost in puke land.”

Nelle cackles loudly into the phone. “Soo Yeong, Juni’s lost—again.” As her laughter grows louder, my patience wanes thin.

“I don’t have time for this, I’ll call you later.” Before Nelle had a chance to reply, I quickly hang up, only so she could get a quick taste of my annoyance.

My surroundings are bright and colorful and, in the entrance of some random department store, there’s a robotic black santa waving at me. What the hell? My eyebrows furrow in confusion. “I-I dunno how to feel about that.”

In a city like Seoul, South Korea, that was quite a strange, uncertain thing to see.

I shake my head and decide not to think about it. Ever.

However, even minutes later, I can’t help but to think about it. It’s quite laughable, actually, how much that damned santa statue rubbed me the wrong way. Well, no…just surprising, I suppose.

And, in my wandering thoughts, I don’t notice a slick sheet of ice in my path until I’ve stepped on it. My eyes grow wide as my feet give way from under me. “Well, shit. I dunno how to ice skate.”

I brace myself for an impact that I quickly realized never came. Instead I feel a tight grip on both of my arms. I look up to be met with a panicked expression on a rather handsome face. An attractive man rescuing a clumsy woman on a snowy evening? I click my tongue, “How cliché.”

“Uh—what’s cliché?” His voice is rough as he questions me as if he hadn’t spoken all day. Or rather…as if he had just woken up. There was still sleep in his dark eyes.

I shrug. “Being lost in this stupid puke land.” I snicker at my own joke, but I’m only met with a confused look.

“What does that mean?” I chuckle, “It was a joke.” He nods slowly, his gaze confirming understanding, until he’s pondering my words again. “Umm…I still don’t get it.”

I pat his shoulder with a small shake of my head. “It’s not for you to get, my friend. It was more of an inside joke to myself.” I turn on my heel before bending my head back to look at him upside down. “Well, thanks for saving me but, I gotta go.”

As I begin to walk away, my ears twitch at the sound of fast-paced steps behind me in the loud snow. “Hey, wait! What’s your name?”

I turn around to look at him and glare, “And why do you care to know? Are you some sorta pervert?”

His face contorts into a look of disgust. “What the hell? No!” He raises his arms to his chest in the form of an X. “I can guarantee that I’m not a pervert. I’m just kinda…lost.”

I stuff my hands into my coat’s pockets with a shrug. “Can’t help you there, buddy; we’re in the same boat.” His face lights up at that and he drops his hands back down to his sides. “Then, can I come with you?” He gives me a hopeful look.

I look at him for a while before finally giving into his puppy-like gaze. “Alright, fine,” I sigh, “But, if you try anything, I won’t hesitate to hurt you.”

He gulps with a sharp nod of his head before quickly scurrying to my side. “Understood.”

•••

Snowfall. The cold blanket was becoming thicker. And the cute stranger had yet to leave my side.

In fact, he had gotten impossibly closer—to keep warm, he says—as he continued to have a one-sided conversation (every now and then I’d grace him with a bored hum of acknowledgment).

It’s strange, really. I should want to yell at this guy for being too close. But, I found his presence strangely…comforting.

“Oh! Fun fact!” He seemed quite excited over something. “Oh?” I raised an eyebrow at him. “Snowflakes all have different designs, isn’t that neat? Not one is alike.” I chuckle a bit at that; he was really, rather adorable. “That’s kinda cool.”

It actually wasn’t all that interesting a fact. Of course, I’d already know something about that. But, he seemed really happy at my feigning surprise. Maybe I should start indulging in his conversation?

I like to see him smile.

•••

“This is pretty good.”

“It’s pretty fucking hot,” I grumble.

We had stopped at a late night café in the middle of our aimless wandering. The mugs were huge and filed to the brim and smelled of sweet heaven, and tasted like it, too.

“So, where exactly were you heading off to?”

I look up at him from behind my drink and hum. “I was actually going back to my friend’s apartment, where I’m staying, from an audition I had.”

“An audition?” He repeats, I nod. “Yeah, as a head choreographer. But, it’s pretty hard to be accepted. I’m not surprised, though, this is Korea after all.”

His eyebrows raise at that. “Huh? What d’you mean by that?” I chuckle at him again.

He’s so oblivious. It’s cute.

“I say that because—“ I take a quick sip of my cooling coffee, “—I’m a black woman.”

He looks at me with cut eyes for a while before they grow wide in realization then, he scoffs. “Well, that’s dumb.” I laugh out loud this time, “It is dumb, isn’t it?”

•••

Once the snow had finally come to a stop, we continued our walk to nowhere. And I found myself more at ease with him.

We continued talking and laughing and staring at each other for a beat too long but never acknowledging it.

Though, somewhere along the way, we had taken a break from walking. I just so happened to look up and I, also, found myself under the mistletoe with a stranger.

“Ummm…don’t look up.” He looked up anyways.

It took him quite awhile to register what he was looking at but, once he did, his whole face turned cherry red. “EH!?” Oh, he’s pretty loud.

I huff, “I told you not to look up…, dummy.”

I was about to walk off until I felt a tight grip on my hand and, quicker than I can blink, soft lips met my own before he lets go of my hand and speeds off ahead of me. I stand there frozen, my fingers on my lips. “Oh.”

He kissed me.

•••

Somehow, in some way, I was able to find my way back home. “Hey, Nelle,” I speak into my phone, “I’m outside, make sure to unlock the door.”

I sigh once I hang up and turn to the cutie that never stops smiling. “Are you still lost?” He shakes his head with a shrug. “Nah. I know my way from here.” I nod and begin to open the door to the complex but he grabs my hand again. “Wait—I never got your name.”

I turn to him again. “Juni. My name’s Juni.”

He lets go of me to outstretch his arm, I take it into mine. “I’m Mark, nice to meet you.”

I stare at him for beat (just as I had been doing the entire night) and, before I could truly think about, I take a step forward and return his kiss from earlier. And he kisses back.

“Just pretend there’s a mistletoe above us,” I mumble between kisses.

“Okay,” he manages to giggle out.

It takes a long time for us to finally pull away from each other. I smile at him, “Merry Christmas, Mark.” His flushed face seems to glow in the fairy lights that I still loathed as he grins back. “Merry Christmas, Juni; I’ll see you on New Year’s?”

“Yeah, meet me here. Don’t get lost.” I wink. He lets out a loud laugh. “Okay, I won’t.”

He turns and begins to walk away in the opposite direction in which we came and I watched him for a while before heading inside. I spent a whole snowy evening with a stranger. “How cliché,” I snort.

Nelle and Soo Yeong meet me at the door. “What’s cliché?” I pat Nelle’s shoulder, “Like a hallmark movie.”

“Huh?” Soo Yeong questions. “It’s a joke, my friend.”

“Uh—we don’t get it.” I laugh at that. This is quite uncanny. “You’re not supposed to; it’s more of a joke for me.”

#black writers #excerpt from a book i'll never write #black female reader #black oc #fanfiction #fanfic #kpop crushes #kpop imagines #mark lee #mark lee x y/n #mark lee x you #mark lee fluff #mark lee fanfic #nct mark #nct #nct imagines #nct fanfic #nct dream #nct 127 #i’m so very late for christmas #but happy new year #mark lee imagines #mark lee is cute #and so very boyfriend #lee mark #christmas fanfiction #how cliche

[iluffyouxo]

good bones by maggie smith saturday . give it up for good bones by maggie smith saturday

[iluffyouxo]

𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕖𝕥 𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 || 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧

the walking dead — daryl dixon x black, female oc

He had come to me trembling, soaked head to toe due to the heavy downpour indicating the beginning of autumn. His gaze quivered as soon as his eyes landed on mine once I had opened my door. Without even an uttering breath I stepped aside and he immediately bolted to my single bathroom.

This was our usual routine.

Daryl tended to come to my apartment, battered and broken and ashamed, a few days out of the month. Never speaking a word to each other before or after he winds up at my doorstep with pleading glances.

In this way, I’m sure my attraction was clear…my affections obvious.

And, yet, in this way, I’m sure he remained oblivious with betrayal in his heart. Daryl was a cold-hearted bastard—and his indifference towards me (towards our friends) was rightfully earned.

I sigh as I gathered some of the spare clothes I had bought him after he found himself sleeping on my couch for four days with a black eye and fresh whipping scars on his back. It truly bewilders me how he hadn’t slept on his stomach that entire time.

Soon enough I heard the distinct sound of running water from the shower head and knew it was time to replace his dirty clothes from off the sink counter with fresh ones. Tossing the wet clothing in my washer I waltz into the kitchen to make him a quick meal.

Daryl wasn’t picky, quite the opposite, actually, but when he is here, I want to make sure he eats better than he has since his last thrashing of my apartment. Therefore, I made him some fried salmon and homemade fries.

“Hey,” his voice was gruff and strained.

I look up at him as I finish setting the table and instant regret churns in my stomach. His wet brown hair was shaggy and clung to his skin, his bangs slicked back from the many times he had ran his fingers through them, his crystal blue eyes were a stark contrast to his pale skin and harbored a tired inclination. His black t-shirt and plain sweats fitted him well and damn near ignited the feral teenager in me.

I blink and turn my head away. It took everything in me to not keep staring. “Hey,” I cough.

We take a seat at the dining table and I tie up my box braids before saying a quick prayer and digging into my food. Though, in the corner of my eye, I can see Daryl picking at his plate with a deep frown and furrowed brows. I took this moment to study him before becoming irritated myself.

Today he had come to me with scars on his arms and a deep cut on his forehead.

And it wasn’t long before his overthinking began to cause him to tremor. At the realization that he was about to snap (as he’s done so many times before) I abruptly stand and rush to his side. I wrap my arms around him and pull him in close to me. “You’re safe here,” I mumble. Daryl gives a wavering breath before he’s pulling at my hoodie and crying into my arm.

It’s moments like these that I cherish the most.

Though, I’d prefer he’d come to me unharmed, cocky and a cigarette dangling between his lips, I’m grateful for these times of vulnerability between him and I. It’s the only time he shows that he trusts me with his heart.

I’m truly grateful for these quiet days of ours.

Hopefully, some day, these quiet days become distant memories in our lives tangled in each other’s sheets, basking in his contagious laughter and butterfly-inducing smile.

#black writers #excerpt from a book i'll never write #black female reader #black oc #fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x oc #daryl x reader #fanfic #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #twd daryl #black female oc #modern au #ooc daryl dixon #abused daryl dixon #reader and daryl are both twenty something

[iluffyouxo]

𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜 || 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚊𝚖

Halloween — corey cunningham x black, female oc

“Hey, you wanna hit this, Clover?” An earthy-flavored smog puffed through Rowan’s lips as she spoke, the blunt between her lips exuding a smoke that curled into her dark bangs before disappearing into the evening sun.

I shake my head as I lean against the store walls. “Nah, cannabinoids give me cotton mouth, remember? I like to smoke CBD, anyways. Y’know there are different strands of cannabis and CBD that a lot of people don’t know about. There’s—“ I pause as I’m met with either bored or confused expressions from my friends.

I sigh, “Never mind.” And wave them off.

Rowan shrugs and passes it off to her twin, Bronwyn, who graciously takes it with her mouth instead of her hand. “Oh, how graceful,” I snort. “Bite it,” she hisses back, it garners an eye roll from me.

My hands quiver in feigned fear. “Ooo—scary.” Rowan throws her head back in laughter and Holland chuckles, a smirk playing at his lips. “Good one, Clover.” I bow my head, “Why, thank you very much, Holland.” Bronwyn passes the blunt to him as he playfully bows back.

Just then the bell above the corner store entrance rings and out walks a white boy around twenty-five with lush brunette curls and large glasses adorning his awkward face. He held an anxious aura about him. However…he was kind of cute.

“Hey,” Rowan mumbles, “Isn’t that Corey Cunningham?”

“You mean that kid killer?” Bronwyn whispers back. Holland snickers, “Well, I’ll be damned; that is the sonofabitch kid killer.” Suddenly, Holland gets a mischievous glint in his eye. “He’s coming this way…I have an idea—here, hold this, will ya?” He hands me his untouched drink before putting out his leg in front of him.

I raise an eyebrow at him. “Dude, what’re you doing…?”

Instead of answering he places a finger on his lips (the nice way of telling someone to shut up). I roll my eyes but keep quiet, anyways.

Corey, oblivious to Holland’s leg, takes one sip of his chocolate milk before abruptly being tripped by Holland and falling face-first onto the ground. His milk spills as the brunette quickly sits upright and turns his body around. That’s when Holland squats down next to him with a cocky grin. “Hey, you that kid killer, Corey Cunningham?”

“Hey!” I yell, “What the hell are you doing, Holland?”

“Teaching this guy a lesson,” he scoffs as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “If I were him I would’ve left town. He must be a cocky bastard to show his face around here.”

Corey gives a slight tremor as he glances up at us in silence.

“Gimme that,” Bronwyn snatches Holland’s beer bottle out of my hand before pouring its contents on Corey’s head. “Holland asked you a question, dimwit.”

“It’d be smart of you to answer,” Rowan cuts in, kicking in the brunette’s side. It causes him to slip and smash his hand into the glass bottle, as he tried to regain balance, earning him a slit in his palm.

Corey screams in agony but the twins don’t relent in their abuse. If anything, the abuse gets worse.

I watch in horror as Rowan kicks off his glasses and Holland steps on them. “What am I doing?” I mumble to myself, “I have to stop them.” I throw myself on top of him and then, I’m the one receiving unforgivable blows. I smile down at him. “Forgive my friends, they’re usually better company.”

“I think you need to find new friends,” he coughs. I chuckle despite the pain. “I think you may be right.”

A particularly hard kick causes me to loose balance and I, suddenly, found myself kissing Corey Cunningham. Well, this is ironic. I think with as much comedic relief as I could offer myself. A few more kicks keeps us there before my friends realize what’s happening.

“Clover?” I hear Holland question. “How’d you get down there?”

“And why are you kissing that-that kid killer?” Rowan wails. “Are you…protecting that weirdo?”

Slowly, I sit up in Corey’s lap and sigh, “We could go to jail for harassment, you guys.”

Bronwyn scoffs in disbelief. “Yeah, well, he’s just the kid killer, nobody’s gonna actually care!” She exasperates with a flail of her arms.

I roll my eyes at her stupidity. “He was proven innocent. Do you guys not read? The kid caused his own death by being a little prick and playing a prank that went too far.”

“Yeah, well, we’re leaving,” Holland huffs, turning on his heel and walking away. The twins follow close behind. “Come find us when you’re done defending your little boyfriend.”

I couldn’t roll my eyes hard enough at that.

I quickly come to a stand and dust myself off before offering Corey a hand. He gratefully takes it and I help him to a stand. “I’m sorry about the glasses.” He just shakes his head with a nervous gnaw of his lower lip. I’m sure he’s quite dazed after what transpired. “Let’s go get you patched up. I have a friend who’s a nurse. Y’know Allyson Nelson?” He shakes his head no.

“I’m surprised. She’s Michael Myers’ great niece.”

His eyes widen but, he doesn’t say anything further than a surprised hitch in his breath.

It wasn’t until we reached the doors of the hospital that he finally spoke. “I think you owe me a dinner since we basically made out.” I threw my head back in laughter—earning me some strange glances.

I grab him by his collar and place a kiss on his lips. “You can bet on it. Just tell me what you want, it’s on me.”

•••

“Hey…that sweater looks familiar,” Corey looks me up and down with pursed lips. I chuckle, “That’s because it’s yours, pup.”

Realization dawns in his brown eyes and he giggles at himself. “I was wondering where that went; it looks good on you,” he squeaks out, unsure of himself. I press my lips to the top of his head in thanks when I stand up to get a refill of my sprite.

“So, you really left me for a murderer?” A snide voice remarked behind me. I click my tongue at that, not bothering to turn around. “We never dated, Holland.”

He grips my arm tight and forces me to turn around. His thin black hair was jumbled, his nostrils flared and he held heavy bags under his eyes. Holland looked terrible. “Like hell we didn’t. You were mine.” I roll my eyes, “We shared one kiss under a basketball goal in eighth grade. We’re twenty-six now, get over it.”

Holland huffs an angry sigh as he raised his hand at me. I slit my eyes at him. “Do it,” I challenge.

Just before he could hit me Corey catches Holland’s wrist. “You think you can just hit my girlfriend in front of me?” Corey hisses out. He looked ready to murder Holland.

The look in his eye was dark. Evil. And I found it extremely appealing.

With a slight chuckle, I release Holland’s wrist from Corey’s grip and take his hand into my own. “C’mon, pup, he wouldn’t bother a couple wallflowers like us, now would he?” Corey snarls, “Yeah, I know he wouldn’t.”

As we walk away I grin up at him. “If I asked you to burn the world down, would you?” Corey smiles down at me, “I’ll light the match, just tell me when.”

#black writers #excerpt from a book i'll never write #black female reader #black oc #fanfiction #fanfic #halloween #halloween franchise #halloween ends #corey cunningham #corey cunningham x you #corey cunningham x reader #corey cunningham fluff #corey cunningham fanfic #rohan campbell #i’m literally obsessed with corey #living rent free in my head #unfortunately nobody is murdered here #maybe next time

[iluffyouxo]

ᔕTᖇᗩᗯᗷᗴᖇᖇY ᑕIᘜᗩᖇᗴTTᗴᔕ || 𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗

stray kids — bang chan x black, female oc

“Moon? Moon? Are you even listening to me?”

The question was met with an annoyed sigh as the person it was directed at looked over at them through the corner of their eyes. “Yes, Chan, I hear you loud and clear.”

Moon returned her gaze back to the mirror in front of her, taking in her beat up state. Her nose was busted, her right eyelid was slicedㅡbut thankfully her eye hadn’t been damagedㅡand her left eyebrow had cuts all throughout it (not including the intentional cross that ran through the middle).

The multiple sources of oozing blood was tainting her hazel skin, and all she had was a giant black band-aid with wolf heads on it to cover her nose with. She wrapped smaller brown band-aids around her blooded tattooed fingers but she only had enough to wrap around a few cuts since she had already given some to Chan. She placed one on her index and two on her middle, the others were left opened to the infectious air but, that was the least of their worries.

Moon exhaled shakily and leaned against the graffiti battered, mildewed wall of the male's public restroom the two were occupying in some abandoned restaurant they always hung out in with the rest of their friends.

Moon groans as memories of the night's previous events began flashing through her mind.

The two had lost so much in such a short amount of time.

As tears began welling in her big honey colored eyes, she pulled a pack of strawberry cigarettes and a giant clear lighter out of the pocket of the oversized black Fila hoodie she had stolen from Chan months ago. A puff of flavored smoke ran through Moon's puffy lips as tears finally escaped her red rimmed eyes.

A sympathetic sigh slipped through Chan's heart-shaped lips as his own bruised hands found their way around Moon's torso. His pale fingers ran through her long raven coils. The cigarette rested on the tip of her mouth as she hugged him back, tears flowing freely.

Instantaneously and ever-so slowly, the yellowed bathroom lights began flickering and a distorted figure flashed in the mirror. The friends pushed each other away in urgency, a knowing look glittering in their eyes. Moon threw her cigarette to the ground before the two dashed out of the bathroom and into the city lights.

“Bloody hell,” the Australian growled, “Why are the streets so empty in this neighborhood?”

Suddenly, a vivid image of one of their friends getting gutted alive hurtled through their minds, followed by a high pitched scream echoing down the hollowed roads and glowing white eyes. The pair slid to a halt causing Moon to trip over her black rose boots and stumble against the cracked concrete, earning her a few new scars. She sat up, balancing herself on one knee, and looked around. They didn't know where the screeching had come from nor did they know which direction to run in.

“Let's head towards the hospital, it's just a few blocks away, I'm sure we'll make it,” Chan suggests as he offers his hand. Moon took it and hummed in response, running hand in hand with him down the street.

Another screech sounded, this time louder and so much more closer. “Dammit, dammit, dammit,” Moon hissed as her ankle began throbbing. “She's gaining on us, we need to find somewhere to hide real quick.” Chan pointed towards a large blue truck, “Let's hide under there.” They slid under the car and waited until they were sure She had disappeared for the time being.

Once they had slid from under the truck, however, Chan was met with glowing white eyes with no pupils, red tears and a sharp-toothed grin. Before he could react a porcelain hand wrapped itself around his neck and he found himself dangling meters off the ground.

Then, he was falling.

Moon shouted out his name through uncontrollable tears. In a moment of desperation Moon ran under Chan's fallen figure to become his cushion. He dropped on top of her seconds later, both collapsing to the ground. Once again the pair was awarded with more wounds but nothing severely damaging.

Moon pulled him close. “Oh, thank God...thank God!” She sobbed. “We have to go, we have to go now.” Chan and Moon stood back up and started off in a sprint towards the hospital.

Throughout the desperate try to get to safety, they were cut by Her cawls, pierced by nails in gates, tripped in puddles, pushed against brick and concrete—anything to cause more physical pain and injury.

Chan's heavy breathing was becoming uneven and Moon was now limping due to her swollen ankle. “I don't...I don't know how much more I can take,” Chan spoke, “We haven't ran into Her in a while...I feel like She's toying with us. It's only a matter of time before She gets bored and kills us off.” Moon looks up at him and gripped tight to his hand. “I know...I'm tired too...but, it's not like we can kill a ghost or whatever She is.” Chan opens his mouth to say something but is interrupted by an echoing of Ring Around The Rosie. A shiver goes up Chan's spine, “I hate that fucking song.” Suddenly, the glowing figure pops up in front of them. “Shouldn't have said that.”

The ghost opens Her mouth wide and was about to take a bite out of Chan but instead Her teeth soak into Moon's hoodie clad arm. Moon screams before snacking her arm away then, she runs off again, Chan in tow.

“Oh, God, is your arm okay?” He panicked, trying his hardest to check her arm. Moon only shooed his concerns away. “We don't have time to worry about that right now. The Emergency ER is right there!” Chan whipped his head back around to find that she was right, the 24 hour ER was glowing as it sat right across the street from them. How close they were only encouraged their erge to run faster and faster and faster.

A car whipped past causing them to come to another abrupt stop. The two had made it to a wide street with no crossing from what they could see. Moon looked behind them. There was no sign of their torment...that in itself was a bad sign. If they didn't cross now, they were going to be doomed. She looked back at Chan who held a desperate look on his face. “We have to cross now.” He looked at her slowly and shook his head. “We can't. What if this is apart of her plan? What if one of us gets hit?”Moon stares at him. She hadn't thought about those possibilities.

“Even so, those are still 'what ifs'. We at least have to try. And if we die, at least we died fighting together.”

And for the first time that night Moon smiled at him.

It was gentle and small but a smile nonetheless. Chan inhales before nodding and giving her hand a tight squeeze. “Whatever you do, don't let go of my hand...please,” He requests weakly. “Of course.”

A truck was zooming passed the speed limit as the pair made their way across the street. The sound of the truck's horn inched closer through the huffs and puffs of the exhausted couple. A determined look was painted on Moon’s face while a horrified look graced Chan’s features. “Just run a little faster,” Moon wheezed out through strangled breath. “But, what if we don't make it?” She looked back at Chan. “We're going to make it.”

A few steps later and they were both standing on the sidewalk, dangerously close to the street they had just zipped across. Moon smiled over at Chan as they walked hand in hand inside the ER. “See? I told you we'd make it.” He nods, a sigh of relief escaping his lips as he placed his head on her shoulder.

The sun was just coming up overhead. Halloween night had finally come to a close.

#black writers #excerpt from a book i'll never write #black female reader #black oc #fanfiction #kpop imagines #fanfic #bang chan #bang chris #straykids #stray kids #chan x reader #chan x you #bang chan imagines #kpop crushes #kpop drabbles #happy halloweeeeeeen #yes i know i'm late #but that’s okay #halloween #halloween imagine #i miss halloween already #hallows eve #ghost stories

[iluffyouxo]

“It’s raining let’s go outside” “look out the window, the moon is beautiful” “I finally read the books you’ve been talking so much about, I loved it” “wait stand there , the lighting is amazing” “<3” “I bought you this book, I think you might like it” “oh my, look at all the stars” “let’s go to a bookstore” “I got us some coffee” “here, listen to this” “let’s make a playlist” “this is a horrible idea. I’m in”

[iluffyouxo]

𝟘𝟜:𝟘𝟜; starstarstar || michael jackson

Music — Michael Jackson x black, female oc

To me he is magnificent, nobody else compared. To me he is the embodiment of purity and the innocence adults tried desperately to hide—however tragic it may seem to others. In my eyes he can do little to no wrong; we all make mistakes, don’t we?

These thoughts that linger in my mind always become most prominent late at night while I’m trying to go to sleep or working on a project for him. And I always end up writing them in my journal, just as I am today, for safe keeping, for hiding my feelings amongst these blue lines of secrets. Where I can fully admit to myself that I am, indeed, in love with Michael.

But, I certainly am not the first to come to this realization…and I certainly won’t be the last. And that truth hurts most of all.

I close my notebook with a long sigh and rest my head on my arms. Reading over my words caused a rough pang in my chest and I immediately wanted to stop writing. “Isn’t this too much?”

These feelings were too bothersome.

—

“Axelle, I need your help, do you think you can come over today?” His voice was sweet and coated in calming raindrops, causing a shiver to run up my spine. “Yeah, what d’you need help with?”

“Choreography…and maybe a song or two,” he hummed thoughtfully. I nod to myself. “I can do that, I’ll see you in a bit.”

A wave of disappointment overtakes me as I hang up the phone. I don’t know what I expected, or why I keep getting my hopes up every time I answer his calls. He’s completely oblivious and I’m turning into a wreck over something I have yet to tell him—more less show him. I groan, “Erugh—he’s so annoying.”

Sitting up from my comfortable position on my reading chair, I stretch and get ready for the longest drive I’ve ever taken, the drive to Neverland.

—

“Let’s add a few more steps to the beginning and I think it’ll be finished, yeah?” I breathe out hunched over and looking at Michael through the mirror.

He gives a tight nod as he gasps out his own raspy breaths. His umber eyes meet mine in the mirror and he smiles slightly. “Do you wanna stay for dinner?” I grin. “In other words, you want me to cook, huh?”

“I like your fried chicken,” Michael laughs guiltily, “Sue me.”

I finally came to a stand with a half-hearted chuckle and shake of my head. “Fine, but I’m staying the night.”

“That’s fine by me,” he shrugs, “I wouldn’t let you drive this late anyways.”

My heart skips a beat at that. He meant nothing by it; we’re just close friends, Axelle, remember that.

“It’s dangerous out there for women.” He only cemented that fact.

—

I inhale a deep breath, stretching my arms behind my back, as I balance myself on a fallen tree and glance up at the sky.

Due to Neverland being hundreds of acres long the sky was breathtakingly beautiful. The night was starless but the moon seemed to shine brighter than the sun because of that. It was large and white and brought a soothing to me that I couldn’t quite comprehend. I smile.

I couldn’t help but to be reminded of Michael.

It was rather late, though, I hadn’t bothered to check the time before I had waltzed out of the house, it was definitely some time past midnight.

It had been hard to sleep—clad in one of his collared shirts—and I had decided to get up and go for a walk to clear my head.

My feelings were still quite foreign to me, and some times felt like somebody else’s unrequited love, but once my heart starts spiraling and my brain pounding with emotion, I’m reminded of the fact that this love is mine. And no one else’s. And, yet, I’m still not the only one to come to that conclusion.

A fierce gust of wind whips past as if to agree with my thoughts. I sigh, “How bothersome.”

“What’s bothersome?”

I quickly turn around with wide eyes to be met with Michael’s tired expression. “What’re you doing out here Axelle?” He mumbles wearily. I rub at my neck awkwardly, “I, uh, couldn’t sleep.” He raises a brow at me—emphasizing his disbelief—hopping onto the log and standing next to me. “Axelle…you walked an hour away from the house, I drove here on one of my go carts,” he deadpanned.

“Huh?” I blink stupidly. “An hour!” Michael nods slowly. “I guess I must’ve been too deep in thought to notice.”

We stood there for a moment after that, basking in each other’s presence. And, just then, a few stars casted their glow from behind darkened clouds and shadowed canopies. “So…what were you thinking about?” He asked the question as if he knew the answer, and that tone gave me all the more reason to respond vaguely. “Uh, y’know, life.”

He glances at me, a disheartened look etched on his tan features, “That’s it? Just life? Nothing else?” I stare at him. “What else did you want me to say?”

He shakes his head. “Never mind, forget I said anything; let’s head back before you catch a cold.”

Slightly hesitant to leave the beauty of night I follow after Michael who trudged towards the go cart a few feet away. What was that all about? I ponder as I sit down next to him in the passenger seat. “Ready?” I nod, “Yeah…”

—

The wind was quite playful later on that morning, dark clouds dotting the azure blue sky here and there. And the scent of sweet rain loitered in the air. “It’s going to storm soon,” I murmur to myself.

I exhale a heavy breath and close my eyes, enjoying the cool breeze and greying weather.

“You’re up early.”

I smile at the words that sounded behind me. “We got back at four last night…I never went back to sleep. It was truly bothersome.”

Michael hands me a large cup filled to the brim with iced coffee (a bottle of orange juice preoccupied his left hand). “I couldn’t sleep either.”

I grinned against the cup’s edge. “By the way, how’d you find me last night?”

“I was out there to enjoy the night myself when I saw you,” he runs a hand through his curls with a short giggle, “You scared me half to death, y’know.”

I chuckle. “Sorry…I’m sure it was funny, though.” I sip at my coffee, crush gnawing in my chest. I am completely hopeless, aren’t I?

—

Michael sat a little ways away from me, a distant and concentrated gleam in his eye as he scribbled down on the paper in front of him. There were loads of papers covered with lyrics or musical notes scattered about the table. He hummed a small tune quietly to himself.

I hum along with him as I write my own set of notes.

After a while he slouches back against his seat, satisfaction etched on his features. “That sounded nice.” I nod, glancing up at him, “I wrote some of it down.”

“You already know I can’t read that.”

I grin, “Then, aren’t you glad I’m here to help?”

His smile is wide as he replies, “Of course I am! I’m extremely grateful for you, Axelle.”

My heart skips a beat again. “And I’m grateful for you, Michael.”

More than you know. And more than I dare to tell you.

—

Some times I find myself caught in a situation like this. Where he catches me looking at him intently and we now found ourselves staring at each other for minutes—eons—on end. I was always the one to look away. But, this time, for the very first time, he blinks the trance away and turns back towards the food on his plate.

It was evening time once again. Heavy rain pattered on the roof and danced on the window pane.

The two of us had been eating in silence for the last ten minutes. I was beginning to become anxious. Did he have something to say? Did he want me to leave? With how hard it was storming I doubt that a possibility. Then, what could it be? How bothersome.

“Do you, uh—“ I look up at him as he stammers out a question, “—do you wanna watch a movie after dinner?”

I raise an eyebrow at that. “You don’t wanna keep working? The song’s almost done.” Michael shakes his head, “No, I just wanna spend some time with you…that’s not work related.”

“Aww,” I grin, “Well, how could I say no to my dear friend? What movie did you have in mind? Peter Pan?” He smiles back. “Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course not. Let’s have some ice cream, too.”

—

“I like you.”

The confession was abrupt and rushed and almost made me drop my ice cream.

I turn away from the children flying across London on the tv as a loud crash of thunder roared across the sky outside. My eyes are wide as I stare at his awkward expression. “You what?”

His teeth nip at his bottom lip, averting his nervous gaze to the movie, and I could see him shiver as my stare continued. “Ummm…I like you.”

I blink. “Huh—well, this is rather easy. I thought I would be the one to confess in a few years at your wedding to some random lady that I’d glare at every time I saw her.”

“What…?” Michael sends me a weird look. I shake my head with a light chuckle. “Never mind. That doesn’t matter because I like you, too.”

His smile is large and bright and beautiful. “I’ve been waiting a long time to hear you say that.”

“I thought I hid my feelings quite well,” I huff. He shrugs, “You did, I actually had no idea how you felt but, I wanted to take a chance.” I smile back and lean in close. “I’m glad you did. I can finally do this now.” Before he could question what I meant my lips brush against his for the briefest of moments. But, it was enough to determine that his lips were, indeed, the softest and he does, in fact, taste the sweetest.

“Mmmm…I think I might get addicted to kissing you Michael.” Michael’s laugh is loud as he throws his head back in amusement. “That’s fine by me.”

“Good ‘cause I’m about to do it again.”

To me he is perfect, nobody else will do. And as of today, my best friend is finally mine.

#black writers #excerpt from a book i'll never write #black female reader #black oc #fanfiction #michael #michael jackson #michael joseph jackson #mjj #mjjackson #mjjforever #mjjfans #mjj fanfiction #peter x mj #MJ #mj fanfic #michael jackson fanfiction #fanfic #just good friends #happy birthday michael jackson #bad era #80s