#no one wore a sweater like lady di

[voguefashion]

Princess Diana & Sweaters/Cardigans

#no one wore a sweater like lady di #princess diana #diana spencer #diana princess of wales #sweaters #cardigans #style inspiration #style icon

[radioisntdead]

Eeeeee oki, so I just finished watching boy swallows universe (an absolute masterpiece) and I was wondering what if the reader was like sold drugs or just did bad stuff for money for their family, like they grew up pretty fricking poor and did whatever they could for the extra cash (which is why they're in hell). They die somehow, land in hell and get treated like absolute dirt because they're small and they're wearing plain ass clothes, not powerful at all. Then comes Susan, and she's like "I'm so sick of the pathetic youth today, I'm taking you home with me" and just teaches them how to be proper and less shy and stuff, and to tear people with their teeth (yhey never got used to the whole eating people thing, Susan rolled her eyes and asked if she was a vagitarian or whatever it was called) and this reader hardly talks to anyone but Susan. Then they get introduced to Rosie and Alastor and it's just Susan simultaneously boasting about them telling them to stand up straight

Good evening my dear! This is definitely one of my favorite requests that I have gotten,

I finished boy swallows universe while writing this and I cried, I'm trying to convince my best friend to watch it now, it was very good.

I'm imagining the reader to be around the size of Niffty, maybe a little taller?

Susan's grandkid

Susan & reader

WARNINGS!!

Drug usage, child neglect, cannibalism, murder etc etc Susan kinda treats you as a stray pet in the beginning, not proofread so apologies for any spelling mistakes!

You died young, tragically young, you died in the winter, cornered away curled into a ball, clutching your stomach, wearing a old thin sweater that your older brother gave you, overalls, flimsy socks with a couple of holes in them, and worn down sneakers, you were beaten and bruised, you wanted your mom to hold you and tell you that everything was alright but she wasn't coming,

Did she know where you were? How would she react knowing her kid was gone?

You were a good kid, you just made a couple of bad decisions for your family, you mimicked what you saw,

No one ever suspected the kid with a babyface was dealing, getting involved in shady stuff and horrible, horrible people who couldn't care less that you couldn't even drink yet.

You woke up with brimstone and sulfur around and a dingy old sign saying welcome to hell, It was unfair.

You wondered around aimlessly, you were small enough that most folks didn't notice you at first, and those that did well, they either ignored you completely, tried to kick or spit on you, or something else you didn't want to know.

You stumbled upon a mirror, you looked...

different from when you were alive, alot shorter, you kept the same clothes you died in though, it was a struggle the first few days but you managed to stay alive and relatively unharmed, you always were resourceful.

Eventually you ended up on the cusp of cannibal town, your overalls were covered in dirt and whatever else, you were curled up against to some wall when she found you, in all her old woman glory.

"Good grief youth today is pathetic, how'd you even get down here you little shit?" she tsked as she bent down and picked you up by your overalls, you barely had a chance to react before she put you on her hip and continued her way home.

She didn't put you down as she entered her home claiming that you'd get mud on her floors,

She filled up her bathtub with warm water and bubbles, she took off your shoes and plopped you right in the tub, she put a glob of shampoo into your hair and foamed it up like one would bathe a pet.

She left the bathroom as you looked around the bathroom , confused on why this random old lady just picked you up like a soggy stray dog and dunked you into warm water, and put soap in your hair.

You weren't complaining by any means but you were caught off-guard.

She came back within a few minutes carrying children's clothing like the other cannibals wore, she washed your hair and your back, scrubbing off the grime, she dried you off and put the clothes on you, the next few hours were a blur, she picked you up, sat you at a table and placed what looked to be part of a raw arm on your plate.

You stared at it while she went ahead and dug it,

She raised an eyebrow, "you one of those vegetable people?"

You shook your head, poking at the arm slice

"Speak up, are you mute?"

You look up at her, "No ma'am."

"Speak up you sound like a mouse, now use those teeth of yours and eat."

You simply nodded and opened your mouth to dig into the arm,

You'd rather not eat what you assumed to be another person but you hadn't eaten in days and well, it was rude to refuse a free meal, right?

After the meal Susan handed you a toothbrush and told you to brush, giving you a set of pajamas to change into before leaving you to do a night routine,

Once done she picked you up and tucked you into a bed, turning off the lights and closing the door leaving you in pitch black darkness.

Living with Susan wasn't particularly easy but it was better then when you were alive, you didn't have to worry where your next meal came from, or maybe you did considering Susan had a diet of sinner meat, you didn't have to worry about not making ends meet, about the possibility of the folks you dealt too coming for you,

You did miss your family terribly though, you wondered if they missed you, or if they've found your corpse yet, maybe you were permanently put as a missing person, maybe you were chopped up into pieces,You didn't want to know.

Susan would teach you how to properly eat someone, you already had sharp teeth so you were a quick learner in that regard [Although you did prefer normal food]

You would cower behind her and she'd grab you by your shoulder and move you Infront of her, telling you to stand up straight, smacking your lower back with her cane if needed, some days She'd place a book on your head and have you practice walking around with it to correct your posture.

You wouldn't talk much at first but soon became a chatterbox with Susan, and mostly only Susan, keeping talking to others at a minimum unless Susan made you, she paraded you around cannibal town getting you used to the tight-knit community.

You soon went from a rather timid and frankly weak child to a more confident person, Susan wasn't usually seen without you skipping along behind her, eventually once she deemed you as proper she took you to Rosie's Emporium to introduce you to her and obviously get some treats,

"This is [Name] I got them off the streets and I made em' into a proper member of society, [Name] stand up straight, say hello"

Susan said moving you to the front where Rosie was,

"Hello."

Rosie immediately adored you, after all you were small enough to put in her pocket, she leaned down to shake your hand, and in that time

Susan proceeded to accidentally left you at the emporium and Rosie saw her chance and took it,

"Well aren't you adorable! Let Auntie Rosie spoil you, okay?"

Within seconds you were sat in a comfy chair with a plate of cannibalistic desserts infront of you and Rosie across from you, chatting until Susan came back for you two hours later.

She knew she left you after like five minutes she just didn't want to make the trip back and let Rosie babysit you.

Another time she took you to Rosie's Emporium the infamous radio demon was there, and while you didn't particularly know much about overlords and the like since you mainly stuck with Susan, or in the safe parts of cannibal town, you did know that overlords were more or less dangerous,

Susan did not care though and immediately started insulting the radio demon,

"Why don't you have a wife yet? Do you not like woman? Then why don't you have a husband then??"

"Susan, I believe that's none of your-"

"It's because you don't brush your fucking teeth isn't it,"

"Susan-"

"You probably blind all the ladies looking like Rudolph's nose"

"Excuse me?"

You quickly intervene before Susan ends up being the radio man's dinner, Alastor tilts his head at you and bends down,

"And who is this Little one?"

Susan moves you Infront of her and puts her cane between you and Alastor,

"My grandchild, they're very well-mannered unlike you now get away before you influence them to listen to your modern jazz music"

"̵̢̯̫͕̀̀̓̕M̷̧̧͎̬̹̦͚̺̼̳͊͒̽̌̅͑́̕͘ỹ̶̱̮͙̕ ̴͇̹̣͙̖̉̽̏̊͜m̸̡̧̱̲̱͔͉̲̫͋́̄̎̄̔̈̈́͠ö̵̢̢̙͍̩̩̮̺́̃̿̎ḑ̵̰̪͎̀̿̔͊̒͛̄ͅͅͅę̸̪́ř̴̛̳̥̭̼̌͊̄̉̑̽̇̚n̴͕̥̗̻͕̊̅͐̒̂̌͆̚̚͜͠ ̵̛̪̹̔̈́̈́͂͝͝Ẃ̸̽̓̈́̾͂ͅH̵̨̢̯̳̗̦͕̭̯̑̈͆̇̚̕̚Ḁ̸͍̱̩̠̼͚̾̉̚T̵̥̠͓͛͊"̸̛͎̼̺́̔̀̎͛̀̈̕͠

Thankfully Rosie soon appeared before Alastor and Susan could get into a brawl,

She handed you a lil' box of treats and sent you on your way with Susan.

A very polite way to get kicked out in your opinion,

The next time you see Alastor he brings Niffty, trying to get her to influence you enough to drive Susan to insanity.

It backfired.

You, on the rare occasions you roam outside of cannibal town you see someone you may have known during life, you usually don't interact with them, but sometimes they recognize you too, they give a look of mixed disbelief, pity and guilt or just indifference, you made similar decisions to them.

You saw a member of your family, trying to sell something on the streets one time, you went up to them with the confidence of Susan talking to Alastor,

You know they recognized you, you may look different but you were still you, just better then before.

Their face dropped seeing you, filled with guilt and shame, you weren't supposed to be down here, of all places, you should've gotten to live to be old and wrinkly, shaking their head they shoo'd you away in what you assumed was a way to tell you to move on, make the best of your afterlife.

"I don't know you, now shoo' go home."

When you got home to Susan making cannibal meatloaf, nagging you about getting home in a timely manner as you take off your shoes and place them by the door, it gives you a somewhat nostalgic feeling,

You may never seeing the majority of your family again, after all maybe they're in heaven or below with you,

They'll always be your family and while they weren't perfect but they loved you, and you loved them, and you always will even if you were apart.

And now you had a new family member, Your Grandma Susan,

And you loved her, and while she didn't outwardly say it, you knew through her actions of making you a scarf, bringing you a bowl of peeled or cut fruit, or something else, she loved you too.

good evening folks! Hope you enjoyed this, I'm making my way through the requests now so tune on in later for those!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #susan & reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel susan #hazbin susan #hazbin rosie

[raving-raven-writing]

Spider Sees Ghosts AU

So, this idea has been in my drafts for a while, and it wasn't until @lovermyme mentioned the lack of this AU that I went back into and started writing some of it. I honestly had such a difficult time writing some of this because for some of it Spider is a young child and I don't write from the POV of children often. Anyhow, this AU, Spider starts to see spirits from a young age. It isn't until after Paz dies when he is about four that he starts telling people about being able to see these spirits, but not many people believe him. He is cast out as that weird kid by peers. But eventually, those around him start to believe him when he tells them things about them, their family, their history---things that he shouldn't know. This work will be a multi chapter, and it will connect to another story idea I got in mind that is focused on the backstories of the Recoms. Anyway, here are a couple of snippets I got. Enjoy.

MJ clutched the stuffed monkey to his chest, silent as he examined the apartment. Johnny did his best to give the boy a smile, although it was sad to see how quiet and withdrawn the boy had gotten ever since Paz had died. “Well, you make yourself comfy, okay MJ. I got a pullout bed on the sofa, so you can sleep there tonight.” He placed the boy’s backpack down next to the sofa and headed into the kitchen.     “Have you eaten dinner yet?” MJ shook his head, the stuffed monkey still clutched tightly in his grip. “Okay, well, is there something particular you wanted to eat?” Most kids would jump at the chance to ask for    or something else that was overtly “appropriate” dinner food. But MJ just shrugged. “Whatever you got is fine.” ________________________________________________________ “Who’s that you’re drawing?”  “A lady.” “Does the lady have a name?” MJ paused what he was drawing and glanced off to a spot to his right, just in front of the coffee table he sat at. After a moment, he resumed his coloring. “Her name is Henrietta.” Johnny froze, his heart jumping up into his throat. That was a name he hadn’t heard in a long time. The only person he’d ever known with the name Henrietta was his grandma, and she had passed many years ago, when he was about fifteen. He glanced over in the direction of where MJ had been looking a moment before and then lowered himself onto the floor next to the boy. He peeked down at the drawing, noting that MJ had drawn other people, ones he didn’t recognize. But, even with it being a drawing by six year old, he could clearly see the features of the woman he'd drawn and it matched to what his grandma looked like. The square framed glasses, with the beaded chain she hung them on. Her ever present floral sweater that she wore no matter the weather, her hair up in a bun--elderly women often envied how much hair his grandmother had had at her age. “How old is Henrietta, MJ?” MJ glanced again over to the right of the coffee table before he looked back down at his drawing. In black crayon, he wrote R.I.P. over top of the picture of Henrietta. “She’s been gone a long time.” _______________________________________________________

“...Can you tell me a story?” He seemed hesitant in asking the question, as though he was expecting to be rejected. He owned a good amount of books, although there were only two or three books he’d kept from his childhood. One of them being a gift that his grandmother had given him when he was about four. She had read it numerous times to him, and he never got tired of the story or the illustrations. He showed the book to MJ. “Where the Wild Things Are. This one okay?”, MJ nodded and Ja took a seat next to the boy, got comfortable, and opened up the book. Before he could start reading though, quietly the kid thanked him and leaned into Johnny’s side so that he could see the pictures better. Johnny was pleased to see that his narrating skills drew a small smile from the boy and after finishing reading the book, he was surprised of the feeling he had in his chest. One of pure contentment. He glanced down at the cover. “You know, when I was a kid, this was-” “Your favorite,” MJ said, cutting him off. “Uh, yeah…how did you guess?” MJ had moved to rest his head back on the pillow, the blankets now pulled up around his chin. “She stayed to make sure you are okay…” he muttered sleepily. With eyes half open, clouded with sleep, he glanced up at Johnny. “Are you okay, uncle Ja?” He tucked the boy's stuffed monkey in with him as he fought to breath past the sudden lump in his throat. He cleared his throat, determined not to cry. "Yeah, I'm okay, kid."

#atwow fanfiction #avatar fanficton #spidersocorro #miles quartich #lyle wainfleet #recom mansk #recom ja #recom lopez #recom zdog #recom prager #au fanfiction #fanfiction #ability to see ghosts #fanfic snippets #modern au

[hongcherry]

Hi! I'm doing good, thank you for asking and for answering my question :D. I REALLY love your writing and I want to request a roommate!JungKook x roommate!reader enemies to lovers fic, when it's raining a lot, so the power goes out and the reader is scared of the dark, please. I hope you're having a good day/night, don't forget to take care of yourself ♡

Your Light || jjk

"Being stuck in the dark with your annoying roommate was not ideal, however, maybe it wasn't so bad in the end."

💡 Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (f)

💡 Rating/Genres: NC-17; Fluff, roommate au, enemies to lovers

💡 Warnings: Cursing, mc hates children (joking...), bantering, mentions of stereotypes of older people/grandmas, that's it?

💡 Word Count: 2.3k

💡 Author’s Note: Anon, I'm so touched that you like my writing so much! That's such a big and sweet compliment. I'll cherish it forever! Tbh, I've been feeling a lil insecure about it, so this really made me feel better. This prompt was also really adorable! I hope you enjoy it. I'm glad you're doing good 💖

part two

bts masterlist | main masterlist

What’s more annoying than telling your roommate to stop yelling at his screen at three in the morning?

Having to tell him for the fourth time.

If you knew Jungkook was an avid video gamer, you would never have agreed to room with him. But alas, his profile was too perfect to be true. A quiet guy who stayed holed up in his room? One that knew how to cook? Someone that could lift your heavy move-in boxes? Truly a winner.

If only that was the whole case.

Jungkook indeed stayed in his room, could cook, and could lift heavy items.

But he also made loud noises in the middle of the night, cooked at the weirdest times so you couldn’t leech off his food, and made you pay him anytime he helped you move items.

What a menace.

“If you don’t turn off that stupid screen at ten, I’m going to cut up all your cords,” you threatened, towel and spare clothes in your arms as you peeped your head in Jungkook’s room.

You were preparing to go to sleep early due to having stayed up late last night because of his stupid shooting game. It was also raining outside, which would aid in you falling asleep faster since you found the rain peaceful.

Jungkook didn’t reply and simply kept his focus on his screen. He wore a headset, fingers flying across the keyboard. Irritated at his lack of response, you stomped over to him and yanked off his headset.

To your utter annoyance, that didn’t even phase him.

“Jeon Jungkook, are you even listening?” you hissed.

Laughter came from somewhere in the room, but you two were the only one's home. It was not until you heard another voice that you knew where the sound was coming from.

“Is that your mom?” the voice laughed. “Tell her to go back to knitting a sweater for her cat.”

A gasp left your lips at the implication you were some old, wrinkly lady. You raised the headset to your face. You didn’t put it on, but you put your mouth near the microphone, so his “friends” could hear.

“How about you go eat your supper and go to bed, little vermin,” you angrily replied. “And I’ll have you know cats dressed in sweaters are cute!”

More laughter emitted from the headset.

“Supper?” another voice echoed. “I don’t think that’s his mom—more like his grandma.”

“Why you tiny piece of-”

“Give me the headset,” Jungkook finally acknowledged you. Not wanting to hear any more of the pests known as kids, you thrust the equipment in his open hand. You noticed his character had died and was waiting to respawn.

Jungkook slipped the headset back on and continued his game. “Relax guys. She’s just my roommate.”

Even though the device wasn’t near your ears, you could still hear their replies.

“Your grandma is your roommate?”

“She’s so uptight!”

“Seriously, tell her to calm down.”

Your hands clutched your belongings tighter. You told yourself to walk away—fighting with them was no use; however, you couldn’t stop yourself when you leaned down near Jungkook’s face to get near the mic once more.

“I hope your parents make you eat a pound of vegetables.”

“Go away,” Jungkook huffed and gave you a gentle shove.

“Tell me you’ll turn that off at ten.”

“Eleven,” he bargained, eyes glancing at you when his character died again. You must really be distracting him for him to have died twice within five minutes. Good. You hoped his ranking plummeted.

“Ten-thirty,” you said. “That or I grab my scissors.”

“Fine. Ten-thirty. Now leave before I get my own scissors.”

You scoffed, hand on your hip. “And do what with them? Make paper snowflakes?”

Jungkook smirked at you before turning back to his game. “Don’t think I don’t know where you hide that stupid stuffed chipmunk of yours.”

Your jaw dropped slightly as you stared at him incredulously.

“Ten-thirty,” you repeated firmly before walking out of his room and shutting the door. The walls weren’t thick, but at least it kept some noise out.

You started making your way to your bathroom; however, you couldn’t get rid of the paranoia that Jungkook really knew where Mr. BonBon was. You made a quick detour to relocate your favorite plushie. You had won it at an arcade on your thirtieth try. It held sentimental (monetary) value.

Once you were done, you trekked to your bathroom. Finally, you could end your day with a relaxing steamy shower. No doubt your shoulders were sore from all the stress you’ve endured lately. From tests to 3 a.m. hollering, you couldn’t wait to have some time to decompress.

The feel of the hot water pouring down on your body had your eyes closed momentarily. You could probably stay there for half an hour, but your goal tonight was to go to sleep early. You kept that in mind as you went through your shower routine. You were just rinsing the soap from your body when the lights suddenly went out.

Startled by the unexpected darkness, you fumbled to turn off the water. It must be Jungkook pranking you.

You hastily grabbed your towel and wrapped it around your body, so he couldn’t get a free show.

“Turn the lights back on, Jungkook!” you exclaimed.

When you didn’t get an answer, your brain started conjuring up fantasies. And not the ones where you find a charming partner and run off into the sunset. No, these thoughts consisted of a three-headed beast clawing its way from your drain, or a long-haired lady crawling from your mirror. While living with Jungkook was a pain in your rear, you much rather live with him for eternity than be captured by one of your “mind monsters.”

The haunting thoughts had you hastily scurrying from the shower, hair still dripping water and making a mess of your tiles. That was the least of your worries as an imaginary hand was reaching from the mirror that you passed on your way out of the bathroom.

You took two steps into your bedroom only to scream when you saw a dark figure standing a few feet from you. Your hand reached to your side to grab whatever was closest while the other clutched the towel around you. When you finally grabbed onto something, you flung it as hard as you could at the mysterious person.

They grunted, stumbling back a little and cursing under their breath.

“Calm down, it’s just me,” Jungkook grunted.

Your heart was still racing, but at least your shoulders eased.

“I could’ve killed you!” you screeched.

“I’d like to see you try,” he huffed. Even though you couldn’t see his face, you just knew that little shit was rolling his eyes.

As you were calming down, a loud thunder cracked outside. It had you jumping and shuffling closer to Jungkook unknowingly. That must be the reason for the power outage.

“I’m going to try to find a flashlight,” Jungkook spoke.

“What about your phone?” you wondered.

“Misplaced it, but I rather not use it right now anyway if I can’t charge it,” he said. He started to move, but you quickly stumbled closer so you could grab his wrist.

“Wait!” you exclaimed.

Jungkook paused in his steps to look at you. “What?”

“I- I can help you find it.”

The quiver in your voice grabbed Jungkook’s attention and he finally put some effort into reading your body language.

You were tensed, hand still holding onto him and your towel tightly. You were also strangely too close.

“You’re scared of the dark,” he stated, a small chuckle sounding at this realization.

“No! I’m j-just trying to help.”

Maybe you were scared. You hated the way your paranoia skyrocketed when you couldn’t see. There was something too eerie about having one of your five senses taken away from you.

“Are you crying?” he questioned, and you felt his hand brush against yours that held him.

“What? No. Why would you-”

“Something wet landed on me. Please don’t tell me that was your snot or something,” he replied, voice full of dread.

Your hair was still wet and probably leaving your floor slippery.

“I just came from the shower! It’s just water,” you groaned and slowly let go of his arm.

“O-oh.” He sounded startled.

Your eyes slowly began to adjust to the darkness as some of the moonlight crept in from the window through your curtain.

“Let me change, but don’t-” you sighed at how much you needed him. “-don’t leave me.”

You expected Jungkook to make a witty reply, but he simply nodded, an action you could faintly see.

“Only if you let me sit on your bed,” he bargained. Each time he would climb on your bed, you would always shoo him away—claiming he was spreading his germs all over your clean sheets.

“Fine,” you said. You stuck out your arms as you felt your way to your closet. You could see the outline of some closer objects, but you still felt uncomfortable not seeing far away.

“Ah, fuck,” Jungkook cursed before you heard thudding.

“What happened?” you asked quickly, heart beginning to race as your mind pictured Jungkook getting snatched by the monster under your bed.

“Nothing,” he groaned. “When did you put a bench by your bed?”

Your body relaxed again. He must have tripped over it and fallen. “A day ago.”

Once you found your closest, you quickly changed to whatever your hands touched. You had clothes in the bathroom, but there was no way you were risking getting grabbed by another monster in there.

“Done,” you announced and reached out again. Jungkook met you halfway, taking your hand in his. It was your first time holding his hand, and you didn’t like the way your body warmed at his touch.

“Just going to go to my room; I have a flashlight there,” he instructed. His voice didn’t hold the playfulness or irritation it usually did. It was softer. It was odd to hear, but not unpleasant.

You followed him slowly down the hall to his room, the path familiar to you but still making you anxious.

“Wait here and I’ll get it,” he instructed and started to pull away. However, the moment he took a step forward, you clutched him again.

“S-sorry,” you said quickly when he was tugged back. Jungkook paused, staring down at you with eyes you couldn’t read.

Taking in a steady breath, he repositioned your hands onto his hoodie.

“It’s okay. Hold on,” he said and moved. You continued to hold onto his clothes while he shuffled around in his closet.

“Aha!”

Suddenly light flooded the room. Jungkook’s gaze drifted from the flashlight to you. With the light, your worrisome expression could be seen clearly. Not to mention, just how close you were to Jungkook.

“You okay?” he asked.

His voice had you moving away quickly, your body heating from embarrassment.

“Just fine,” you answered. “How long do you think the electricity will be out?”

Jungkook shrugged. “It depends I guess. For now, we can use this so our phones can save power.”

“Okay,” you sighed.

“Nice outfit,” Jungkook mumbled, voice teasing like you were used to. It somehow made you feel better.

You glanced down, only now taking in your mismatched attire.

“You try getting dressed in the dark,” you grumbled. He smiled and glanced around.

“You can take the bed. I’ll sleep on the floor,” he said, gesturing.

You wanted to reject his invitation—make some sort of excuse to sleep in your own room; however, you knew you wouldn’t be okay sleeping alone. Before you could make your decision, Jungkook started to pull out an extra pillow and blanket from his closet. He tossed them onto the floor and then set the flashlight on the nightstand, light shining up at the ceiling. It had cast enough light to make you feel safer.

“If you don’t get in that bed, I’m going to keep playing until four,” he threatened light heartily when he saw you standing still.

“You already do that,” you argued but relented to his request.

“And I’ll continue doing that if you don’t-”

“Yeah, yeah,” you dismissed as you climbed into his bed. “I’m in.”

Jungkook’s lips twitched as he tried to suppress a smile. “Good.”

A part of you wanted to offer to share his bed, however, you decided against it since you two weren’t that close. One night on the floor won’t hurt him anyway.

“Goodnight, Yn,” he mumbled from below.

You nestled in his covers, taking in the calming scent of them and letting your eyes close. “Goodnight, Jungkook.”

Luckily, the electricity was only out for a few hours. It came back on in the middle of the night. You had started to leave Jungkook’s room, but he insisted you stay in case the power went out again. Not liking that possibility, you agreed. It wasn’t that bad being with Jungkook anyway.

Later that week, you came home to a box on your bed. You didn’t order anything lately, so you weren’t sure what it was. However, upon closer inspection, you saw your name on it. Inside was a chipmunk-shaped night light. You’ve seen these in stores and online, usually advertised to children, but that didn’t matter. It was battery-operated, which meant even if the power went out, you could still use the device.

Your lips lifted in a smile while you inspected the cute light. You set it on your nightstand and then returned your attention to the box. You still weren’t sure who had gifted you this. Though, sure enough, you found a card laying at the bottom of the box, face down. Turning it over, it read:

In case I’m not here next time. JK

Your eyes lingered on the hand-written note. Partly in denial that Jungkook, your annoying, disobeying roommate, had gotten you something so considerate. Nevertheless, your view of him was slowly changing—for the better.

You checked your clock and realized Jungkook would be home from his class soon. As a thank you, you started to cook dinner. It wasn’t going to be the most elaborate meal he's had since he was the better chief, but you hoped it would convey the gratitude you had for his thoughtful present.

Maybe living with Jungkook wasn’t that bad after all.

A/N: Thank you again, anon! 🥰

Also if any of you knit sweaters for cats, you're a rockstar. Don't let anyone tell you differently 👿

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#requests #jungkook fanfic #thebtswritersclub #kdiarynet #btshoneyhive #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #anon ask #bts drabble #jungkook drabble #bts roommate au #jungkook roommate au #bts enemies to lovers #jungkook enemies to lovers #jungkook x you #bts x you #flowers for bambi 💐

[jakeydoesit]

A Case of You | D.R.W.

A/N: Hello i’m not a writer but here’s this. I wrote this when I was high so... yeah. Thank you @sing-against-the-sky for moral support hehe

Warnings: Alcohol consumption. Fluff. 

Danny let out a belly laugh at your awfully accurate impression of Neil Young. Harvest Moon had long been forgotten, endlessly spinning on the turntable across the room. You were both sitting cross legged on the floor next to the coffee table, trading stupid dares and sharing a bottle of wine he had brought back from some vineyard in British Columbia. The wine was sweet and it made you both flush with giddiness and joy. 

“Ok, ok, my turn,” You waved your hands in front of you as you tried to come down from his laughter. “I dare you finish this bottle of wine in one chug!”

Danny smirked, his eyes crinkling as he did. “Easy.”

You tried not to watch as his Adam’s apple bobbed as he knocked back the better half of the bottle you had opened not long ago. It was hard not to stare at him. 

Danny and you shared a giggle as the last little bit of wine dribbled down his chin. He was right tipsy and so were you. “Alright. Missy, your turn…” He put his finger to his chin like he was really trying to think of something outrageous for you to do next. You were on the edge of your seat. He looked behind him through the patio door off of his dining area. “I dare you to go out there and dance in the rain for at least one minute to the song of my choice!”

You rolled your eyes at him but puffed your chest up. “Not a problem. Let’s go, Daniel.”

You both sauntered over to the patio door, Danny scrolling through his playlists to find something perfect for you to dance to. Once he was satisfied with his choice, he flipped on the porch light to illuminate his back yard. It was at that moment you realized how heavily it was pouring out. “You know, you don’t have to do this… it’s raining pretty heavily out there,” Danny commented. 

“Nonsense!” You exclaimed, “Music please, Maestro!” You stripped from your hoodie so you were only in a pair of running shorts and a big t-shirt. Danny laughed and turned on the outdoor speaker as the song “Boogie Wonderland” by Earth, Wind & Fire came on. You twirled around in the downpour, pulling out your best disco moves to make Danny laugh even more. Just as you were bounding into a sloppy pirouette across his yard, a bright flash of lightning lit the world followed by the loudest crack of the thunder you had ever heard.

Your face paled and you bolted into Danny’s arms as he swept you into the house, slamming the patio door closed behind him. For a moment you were silent as the initial shock of what just happened wore off. And then you both burst into uncontrollable laughter with tears streaming down your cheeks. As your giggling died down, Danny noticed the tremor in your shoulders as you shivered from the cold.

“C’mon kid, let's get you warmed up.” Danny led you to the bathroom first, passing you a fresh towel to dry off with. As you pulled your dripping hair into the towel, Danny went into his room and returned quickly with a pair of pajama pants and one of his giant, cozy sweaters. You thanked him as he shut the bathroom door behind him to give you some privacy to change out of your wet clothes. 

When you were finished, you went out to the living room to look for Danny. You walked in to see a pile of blankets on the couch and the sound of Danny making something in the kitchen. As you took your hair from the towel wrap on your head, Danny walked into the room with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. “Extra marshmallows for the lady,” he grinned as he set them down on the coffee table. 

You smiled at him and shivered again, the chill of the rain not quite gone from your body yet. Without another word, Danny grabbed one of the fleece blankets from the pile and wrapped it around your shoulders and then wrapped himself around you, rubbing up and down your back to warm you up. You wrapped your arms tightly around his waist, relishing in the feeling of his warm body. He hummed a little tune as he rocked you back and forth, pressing his lips to your hair every so often. Your heart was about to beat out of your chest, and you could hear his racing too from where your ear was pressed to his breast. 

After a few moments in his arms, you looked up at him and smiled shyly. “My turn to dare you…”

He grinned down at you softly, a light blush on his cheeks. “Ok, let’s hear it.”

“I-I dare you to kiss me…”

He looked at you for a moment, a light in his eyes like you’ve only ever seen when he talks about his music. His eyes flicked down to your lips and he leaned forward, pressing his mouth to yours tentatively. You waited a moment before reaching up and pulling his head down so you could deepen the kiss. It was as if the world had stopped at that moment. He sighed into your mouth as your opened up for him, your nose pressing against his. You stayed like this for a while - exploring each other’s mouths as if you’d never kissed before in your life. When you both decided you needed to breathe again, you pulled back and looked into his eyes. 

He leaned down, wrapped his arms around your shoulders. And in your ear he whispered, “best dare ever.” 

#danny wagner #Danny wagner x reader #danny gvf #daniel wagner #greta van fleet #danny wagner fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fic #danny wagner fluff

[imhereformysciencefriends]

@mcyt-yuri-week Day 7, Free day!

Niki/Lady Death for this one, read on AO3 here

MCD but that's like, the premise

Niki was drugged and drunk for it, at least. Hazed into a stupor where she really couldn’t feel anything but floaty, tangentially aware of the hooded and robed figures around her, the torchlight, her own vulnerability, but untouched by it. Like watching it happen to someone else, in third person. The chanting people sent prayers down to Death, and Niki was urged to lay out on a stone plinth. Her flesh prickled at its coldness, but that, too, she barely felt.

The knife they used was sharp. She barely even felt it.

A butterfly landed on the plinth next to her, beautiful blues and blacks and dark purples, and Niki swore she heard it laughing.

Acute awareness hit her like a minecart, but not any pain. In fact, as she glanced down at where the hole in her chest should be, she found herself dressed in her favorite sweater and overalls, no worse for wear. There was an almost… iridescence to her, though, fiery pinks and oranges and reds.

She was somewhere entirely unfamiliar, the clover and flowers beneath her feet all a uniform, night-sky blue. The sky itself was only just a shade darker, barely keeping off black. It stretched out for miles in each direction, the landscape unbroken save for the occasional tree which was also that midnight blue, leaves rustling in nonexistent wind.

The air was unnaturally still here.

Niki realized she wasn’t breathing.

Well, she had just died. It only made sense.

The horizon changed, a massive, black shape taking form so far away Niki at first didn’t see it. But then the form grew closer, and Niki recognized Her Ladyship.

Lady Death wore the wide brimmed hat and veil she was always depicted with, the high-necked dress and long sleeves, the lacey gloves. Much of what she wore was sheer or see-through fabric, providing a beautiful view to her ample bust, the soft curves of her thighs and calves, the warm roundness of her hands and arms.

The nonexistent wind blew her veil just barely open, and Niki caught a glimpse of the picked-clean bone of her skull. Lady Death was soft bodied and long haired and rounded only where her clothing covered her. To glimpse her true form was to see the skeleton only.

Her painted lips were round and soft and black. She smiled at Niki.

Niki hadn’t even realized she’d dropped to her knees.

“I don’t know why you silly humans keep sending me sacrifices,” Her Ladyship said, voice lilting and giggling faintly. “You all will come to me eventually. My power does not depend on your worship like lesser gods.”

Niki realized that this was a conversational beat where she was supposed to respond, but her empty mouth hung open and silent when she tried. Her thoughts themselves were void of words, much less her speech.

Death giggled.

“I do tend to have that effect on people.”

Niki blinked, and tried desperately to get herself to say something. Even something stupid that would embarrass her! Anything to make it seem like she wasn’t ignoring The Literal Goddess Of Death.

But Lady Death was patient (as a goddess of her nature would have to be, most certainly) and let Niki struggle through the mental block of bearing witness to divinity.

“Hi,” she managed, quite stupidly indeed, and Lady Death gave a full belly laugh, her cheeks scrunching up against her eyes and her hair shaking with the bellows.

“Hello, little Niki! It’s nice to finally meet you!”

“Nice to meet you,” she said, her voice very very small, very quiet. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the goddess who’d seated herself next to her, but she didn’t need to blink, so.

“How are you feeling?” Lady Death asked warmly. Niki felt the words in her… body(?) like a physical warmth.

“Shocked, I think.”

“That’s fair. Most people feel that way, even when they knew that this was coming.”

Niki felt a little better at that.

“It’s… an honor to meet you,” Niki tried, angling for polite.

Lady Death giggled again, cheeks warm with a subtle flush and lips curved mischievously. Niki felt a shiver strike through her, clean down her spine.

“The pleasure is all mine, little Niki,” the goddess said, and if Niki had a heart she was certain it would be suddenly pounding. Lady Death reached forward and cupped Niki’s face in two warm, soft hands, the lace of her gloves faintly ticklish against Niki’s now-sensitive skin. Her lips parted, but like before, she was too stunned to speak. Particularly as her Ladyship bent in, face close to Niki’s, the fluttering of her veil so close Niki felt phantoms of its touch against her nose.

“You are so lovely. You know, I’m really not supposed to do this, it isn’t fair to everyone else. But I have been known for being quite the rulebreaker, when it comes to my favorites.”

“Your—” Niki stuttered, now flushed full red. Favorite? But Niki had only just now died, and they’d only just met?

As though reading her thoughts, Lady Death continued, “It’s alright, sweet little thing. You’ll have plenty of time to get to know me later, once you’re all done.”

All done? And what was this about breaking rules, too!?

“Um, Lady Goddess…” Niki started, but the proximity of their faces once again had her at something of a loss for words. “What do you, what do you mean?” she asked, hoping the question wasn’t so vague that she couldn’t answer it.

Lady Death giggled again, then reached one hand up to touch her veil. She parted it—just barely—and Niki would’ve gasped if she’d had any breath, when she leaned all the way in and kissed her. It was the touch of gleaming white teeth to breathless lips, and for only a fleeting moment also, but to Niki it was a kiss more intimate than any she’d ever received in life.

Then Lady Death was pulling back and giggling at her again, catlike and smug, her veil replaced so Niki saw soft flesh and round, plush lips.

“I mean you’re not to be mine—just yet. Not in full, little Niki. Though I do hope you’ll remember this, won’t you sweetheart?”

Niki wasn’t sure she could ever forget, but before she could answer, or ask any more of her thousand questions she sat so blankly on, the goddess was fading from her view, and so was the dark blue place. And so was her consciousness. And her existence altogether.

She gasped awake, hands folded neatly over her belly, in the middle of a flower field, dappled sunlight barely making it through the leaves of the tree she “slept” under.

Niki sat up slowly, examining herself. She was breathing. Her heart pulsed in her chest. She was no longer in that in-between place. The fiery pinks and oranges that hazed around her were gone.

Had it all been—no, it couldn’t have. She yanked down the neckline of her dress and found a massive scar where they’d cut out her heart, and fingers pressed to the tissue reassured her once again that her heart was beating there.

What had happened? Why was she alive? She had passed into the domain of the Goddess of Death, the eternal garden from which no soul was ever meant to return. How was she back here, in the domain of the living?

She raised her fingertips from her heart to her lips. She could not feel the cool press of bone against them, but in her memory, she was able to summon the phantom of it. The sensation of kissing Lady Death.

Niki’s freshly forged heart skipped a beat.

#mcytyuriweek2023 #Niki Nihachu #Lady Death #Goddess of Death #mcyt #dream smp #DSMP #mcyt yuri week #deathniki #nikideath #my writing #haro writes #ritual sacrifice #human sacrifice #major character undeath #temporary character death

[toyybox]

Spiderwebs #4: Diplomacy

Masterlist

content: lab whump, kidnapping, non-consensual drugging, failed escape attempt

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Jackie did not realize the severity of his situation for a while—he blamed it on the bullets—but it did eventually dawn on him that, yes, he was locked in a stranger’s basement. For a reason he still was not privy to. Again, very rude. He could rule out human trafficking, more or less, considering that the unnamed lady wanted him dead. That still left serial killer, hitman, or organ salesman on the list, none of which were much better options. 

He needed to escape. That much was clear. It was what every prisoner did, what every prisoner wanted. It kept his thoughts occupied, in any case. 

There were no windows in the basement. It was cold and somewhat dusty. There was no carpet, only concrete, and the walls were painted a nondescript off-white. There were two doors. One, he assumed, led to a different room. The other, which sat atop a flight of stairs, led out of the basement. The doors were all very fancy. Almost Gothic, dark mahogany under a slight glaze, all very intimidating. Enough about the doors, though. He doubted they were unlocked, and even if they were he’d have trouble opening them in his current position—that is, trussed up like a Christmas goose. 

Sneaking out would be hard, then. He was willing to bargain with his captor. Jackie was smart enough to realize that cooperation would get him farther than blind rage. Blind rage had a time and a place, of course. Preferably when his opponent did not wield an aluminum bat. Until then…

He kept searching. There were a few pieces of furniture—a decaying dresser, the empty frame of a mirror, a wooden chair and table. There was a large, boxy freezer—large enough to store a few bodies, at least—though it was currently unplugged. There was a cardboard box of cleaning supplies, and Jackie could see the handle of a broom sticking out. A lone light hung from the ceiling. He hoped it wouldn’t go out any time soon. Lord knew what he’d keep busy with in a dark room.

Would the police believe him? He wasn’t sure how many people had died at his new captor’s hands, or how many people would die in the future. He had a duty, no? To tell the cops? To guide the hand of justice? Then again, maybe it wasn’t any of his damned business. He’d keep his hands clean of the whole affair and hopefully be a free man before his vacation days ended. He’d stay safe, he’d stay quiet, and he’d forget it ever happened.

There was not much else to contemplate. There was a steady ache in his chest, in his head, and around his wrists. The pain was already becoming familiar, however, fading into white noise along with the buzz of the lights. Jackie nearly fell asleep again when the door opened.

“Hello.” At the door, she wore a cashmere sweater, not a bloody apron. Her hair fell loosely around her neck, scraping her shoulders. She held a glass of water in her right hand, clasped the doorknob in her left. There was nothing violent in her expression, nothing but a soft indifference. “Feeling alright?”

Jackie nearly replied with no, before he realized the gag was still on. He shrugged instead, hoping to appear aloof but reasonable, unhappy but in a diplomatic way.

“Great.” She stepped down the stairs. The sound had an echo to it, and so did her voice. “You must be thirsty. Here.” She set a glass down in front of him, where he sat on the floor.

Jackie tilted his head. He flexed his hands, still bound in the thick rope. The lady nodded and pulled a Swiss Army knife from her pocket. Reaching over his shoulder, she worked at the ropes. Her hair brushed his cheek. Her hands were cold as they grazed against his. 

She pulled the ropes away. Jackie wrung his wrists, then pulled down the chiffon scarf from his mouth. “Thanks.”

She brushed her bangs off her face. “You’re welcome. Now, drink something. We’re going to have a conversation.”

It was an unwavering command. The staccato tone she used made him uneasy. Still, he took the glass. There was no use in starting an argument. 

“I never got your name, did I?” he said.

“Hm.” Her eyes narrowed, only slightly. “You’ll be here for a while. We might as well get to know each other. I’m Heather.”

“That’s a plant, isn’t it? Like lavender?”

“I suppose, but I’m not a botanist.” 

“What are you, then? If you don’t mind me asking?”

She definitely did mind. “Drink that first, then we’ll talk.”

He drank the water, then handed her the empty glass. “You’re not a hitman, are you?”

Heather let out a curt laugh. “No, not at all. I’m a chemist, though I take an interest in biology these days. I’m sure you want to know why I brought you here. Truth be told, I want you dead. I wanted your heart, Jackie.”

He blinked. “Oh.”

“Not in the metaphorical sense. I wanted the literal organ.” Heather stood up straighter and continued. “I needed something to test on, that’s all. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind, right? Your contribution would have helped science immensely. That’s not the problem, in any case. The problem is that I have your heart, and you’re still alive.”

Jackie nodded, slowly, wondering if it was better to call the psychiatrist instead of the police. 

Heather stared down at him, expressionless. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“No, I believe you. You shot me a few times, I think that proves it.” This was a lie. All things died. Jackie knew that. That raw, bloody thing in the jar wasn’t his heart—he still had a pulse, didn’t he? He was still breathing. There was some other explanation he was too panicked to notice. He’d tell Heather whatever she wanted to hear, though, whatever would help him survive this. “But you do know that murder is illegal, right?”

“No, I thought the police would be thrilled to see my organ collection. Moving on, I have good news and bad news.”

Jackie didn’t like the phrase organ collection. He supposed that a scientist could also be a serial killer. Being a scientist would probably make the work a lot easier, now that he thought about it. He’d bet she had access to all sorts of neat trinkets and tools. What was next, her human leather scrapbook? “Okay, start with the bad news.”

“You’re going to stay here, in my house, for the rest of your life.” She said it with such a candid air. “I’ll provide food, water, whatever you need. New clothes, maybe. You’ll sleep in the basement, of course. That door over there is for the bathroom. The shower is broken, by the way. If you want to use the one upstairs, don’t be afraid to ask.”

“Wow. The bare minimum. You’re an angel.”

She powered on without so much as a glare. “Yes, I know. Regardless, I will say this. Don’t try to escape. I’d rather work with you, not against you, but I’m not afraid of getting my hands dirty.”

Or her closet, apparently. “Why are you keeping me here, again? Remind me.”

“I can’t let you run off to the police after all that, can I? Besides, I need a test subject.”

He scowled. “Why don’t you buy a hamster, then?”

“I’m banned from PetSmart, and hamsters aren’t immortal. That’s the good news, by the way. You’re immortal.” She paused, as if waiting for Jackie to pop a bottle of champagne and start clapping. “You’re a biological miracle, and I’m not letting that slip away.”

Jackie stood up to face her properly. “Listen, this all sounds great, but I’ve got other plans on my calendar. Let me go now and I won’t say a word to the cops. I won’t say a word to anybody. Deal?”

“You are aware that I’m holding you captive, right? I make the deals, not you.” She glanced away as she spoke, but looked back to study his expression. “Are you starting to feel tired, Jackie?”

He completely ignored her question. “That’s not a deal, that’s a decision. I say we make a deal. I can give you money? I can let you shoot me a few times, if that’s what you want?”

“That would be highly unprofessional. I’d need to shoot you more than just a few times to confirm my results. And I’d like to test more than just bullets.” She tilted the glass in her hand. “I’ll start the tests tomorrow. Don't look so worried. It’s not as bad as it sounds. Get some rest. Think it over.”

She stood up and walked over to the door upstairs without so much as a second glance. Bargaining hadn’t worked. Clearly, Heather wasn’t interested in his opinion. He wasn’t a variable in this. His thoughts were casualties, his feelings on the matter collateral damage. He would need to resort to other means. 

He followed her to the base of the stairs, quiet as physically possible, treading around the echo. This physical exertion blurred his vision—he fought to keep it fixed on his target. 

As soon as the door opened, he ran up the steps and lunged. 

He shoved her to the ground with as much force as he could gather. There was a short gasping sound as the air was pushed out of her lungs. When she reached for the Swiss knife, he grabbed her wrist and kept it from moving. 

Heather… wasn’t fighting back. She was just watching him, observing him. He felt as though the test had already started. No matter, he needed to move quickly. Rats in mazes didn’t stop to ask questions, did they? He needed to disable her somehow. Restrain her. Jackie pinned her wrist to the ground with one hand and reached for the knife in her pocket with the other.

He let go, for only a moment, as he felt pain crack in his chest. She’d kicked him. That moment was enough for her to keep going and sock him in the nose. The smell of blood began to bloom inside his skull. He wiped his nose, swung at her, missed. She pushed. He nearly fell down the stairs, but managed to hold on by the sleeve of her sweater.

“Are you feeling tired yet?” Heather smiled, still pinned under him yet oh-so confident. “Vision getting blurry? Movement appears to be uncoordinated? I think dry mouth was a side effect.”

“What the hell are you going on about?” He attempted to stand up. This was a bad idea, it seemed, because he lost balance and fell on top of her. 

He was vaguely aware of how embarrassing this was, vaguely aware of her body under him, but that knowledge wasn’t much help. Every attempt at moving his limbs again was like trying to swim to the bottom of a swimming pool. His thoughts, too, were underwater, distorted by the viscosity of it all. The only thing he could manage was catching his breath.

“I drugged you, Jackie. Or, more specifically, I drugged your water.” She shrugged. “I expected a fight. I wasn’t happy about it, by the way. I was hoping you’d be a little more sensible.”

“And stay in your basement?” he managed to snap back, though it took a hot minute to form the words. “I’m not going to...“

“Come on, Jack.” She was grinning now. “Get up. Fight me. The door’s right there. Your last chance at leaving.”

“Not my last chance,” he hissed. With a heave, he lifted himself off the floor. “You can’t stop me.”

She pushed him away like a ragdoll. His head slammed on the hard surface of the railing. “Get up and fight, then. Go on. Just stand up. It’s not so hard, is it? It’s only a mild sedative. You can do it.”

He looked up at her. There was a certain glow around her silhouette as she stood against the sunlight, a certain blur around her features. The sunlight! He could run. He could make it. He could go home. This little adventure was starting to wear down on him. If only Heather would move out of the way. She was grinning harder now, or maybe it was his mind playing tricks. That was the last thing he saw, that strange apparition, before it all faded.

#whump writing #lab whump #my writing #whump #Spiderwebs Toyybox

[locke-n-k3y]

akdjkfhdkfjfo i am so sorry for falling into your inbox twice today (i probably will again ahdhhdhd) so so janette and huan lin- Before his death, Huan was a mix between Wallace Wells/Grant Wilson (Does that make any sense. i have no clue anywaysss) and he has a knitted sweater that he knitted, and janette still has it (girlie is dealing with her friend’s death well/j) he wore it when he died fun fact!!!

So now he doesn’t speak, he just appears behind her and people she’s talking to like :D. The best way i can describe what his ghost looks like is him (i will draw a ref one day) with shattered glasses and the bullet wound in his head from when janette killed him, and the blood’s running down his face while he’s haunting janette. The blood isn’t real? But later in the story when shit starts to go bad/worse, janette starts hallucinating/imagining? the blood on her hands and she’s constantly washing them. And two incidents in the story where he appears is one time when Oliver is talking about a book he got and huan’s crouching behind oliver waving to janette and drawing his hand across oliver’s neck and pointing at her. Kind of like ‘you killed/will kill him’ which doesn’t come true! Just to freak her out. The other time is when she’s talking to Adele in the bar where they meet and she looks down at her glass and huan’s reflection’s in the wine and he then appears on the bench at the bear, lying down and just staring at their conversation and janette’s sitting there, having to pretend she can’t see him lmao

(the way i wordbuild is rambling about lore and coming up with stuff as I type so apologies for the rambleeee)

I ALSO WORLDBUILD THIS WAY SO NO APOLOGIES NEEDED AGAHSHHSGS

Hhhgghhhhhhh HUAN LIN MY SWEET BOY I CAN'T BELIEVE HE HAD TO DIE WTF!!! LITERALLY SO MESSED UP [<- Loves it] ALSO THE LADY MACBETH LIKE IMAGERY OF JANETTE WASHING HER HANDS UGH SHE DRIVES ME INSANE AND PRETENDING NOT TO SEE HIM??? WAAGHHHHH MY BRAIN UR MIND

#CHILDHOOD BESTFRIENSS AAGHHH #THE TRAGEDY!!! THE NEVER GOING BACK!!! #HER CONSEQUENCES WILL HAINT HER!!!

[virgo-dream]

For the wip guessing game: touch, star, blue, and/or smile (or any variation thereof)?

Damn TJ, you went for the kill with these! Here you go!

touch

The fact was, Dream was staring. If for 100 years or half a second, he watched as Hob’s chest fluttered gently as he brought air into his lungs. How his fingers twitched sometimes, and the sheer length of his dark, full lashes. It was tempting to touch, trace the outline of Hob’s jaw with his fingertips, to feel the softness of his lips, to touch his hair, to smell him, to taste him. Without his explicit intent, Dream’s hand ghosted over Hob’s cheek, the warmth of his skin almost inviting the touch. Dream wondered what it would feel like. To have him. To love and cherish him, to bathe him and feed him and brush his hair and to fuck, yes. He wondered. To love. To…

blue

He particularly enjoyed wearing a midnight blue sweater from Oxford University that Hob had purchased sometime in the 80s, saying he liked the way Lady Di wore them, sometimes paired with a blazer or an oversized jacket.

smile

The blankets that had felt heavy on his body now rested gently over his skin. It seemed Hob had pulled them all the way up to Dream’s shoulders, and it brought a smile to his lips, one that not even Hob would see, but that belonged to him nonetheless.

The word star was, surprisingly, not used in this WIP once!

#ask meme #ask game #tj dragonblade #thank you for sending this tj!!!

[lottie--1234]

The Song is Ended But The Melody Lingers On

Muriel wandered down the stairs of her small teacher’s cottage. She sighed, thinking of the dream she had last night. Dreams like that frequented her mind. She dreamt of Jonah. Again. Not that it was bad, it just made her miss him all the more. It was living a dream, only to wake up and live the nightmare over and over. He was gone. And he was never coming back.

The teacher knelt by Jonah’s old chest and opened it up. It was filled with letters they had sent one another, old clothes she couldn’t bear to throw away and other relics from her past. Inventions, his stethoscope, the like. She fished out a small jewelry box and opened it. Her rings were still sitting inside, as usual. She smiled to herself, remembering the day he had proposed to her. They had been walking to a friend’s house for dinner when the heavens opened up and it began hammering down with rain. The pair began to run when Jonah had stopped suddenly. He turned around and got down on one knee. Right then and there. It was a moment filled with laughter and happiness, even though everything was soaked through by the time they got to dinner. Jonah had later explained that he waited until the moment he didn’t feel nervous anymore. The ring was simple and he had made it himself, they didn’t have much money to spare. But she thought it was beautiful. Silver wire wrapped around a moonstone. She had told him that it looked enchanting. And he had replied that she looked enchanting.

Her wedding band was inside the box, too. And his was on a necklace that she hadn’t taken off since the day he died. She had insisted for Jonah to be buried with the ring but the mortician had refused. He said it would make a good keepsake for the children. The nonexistent children. She couldn’t bear to correct him.

Muriel pulled a large red sweater out of the trunk and pulled it over her blouse. It was one of the few sweaters that still smelled like him after a year. She remembered the Christmas he wore that sweater underneath his whitecoat as he worked in the busy clinic. That clinic, she remembered well. It was run-down and the roof was full of leaks. They lived upstairs as the clinic was open twenty-four hours a day. Luckily their friends worked there, too. Jennie, Emily, Lucas. This reminded her. She had letters to send later on. They included the daily letters she wrote to Jonah. A friend would take them and put them under a rock by Jonah’s grave. They would remain unread. Or else, she’d jam a fishhook down their throats.

A rap on the door broke Muriel from her stance. She quickly got up and opened the door a crack, not wanting whoever it was to see the open chest and the items that were now taken out. “Muriel, that sweatshirt is far too big for you. Honestly. Now, let me in. It’s positively freezing out here. Come on! No one’s getting any younger.” It was Rachel Lynde. The short, stocky figure barged past Muriel, letting herself in.

“Um- Good morning, Rachel. To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you so early?” Muriel asked, directing the lady away from the mess in the living room. She poured a cup of tea for herself and for her visitor and brought out a plate of biscuits. At least she had breakfast now.

“I was just here to tell you that Mr.Gillis’s nephew is in town. I’ve taken the liberty of telling him about you and he seemed very interested indeed. I must say, this matchmaking business is rather bracing.” Rachel nattered. Muriel sighed. She was in no mood for this. She hardly ever was in a mood for this. It had to end now.

“Rachel, stop. This has to come to an end. I’m completely fed up. There are things you don’t know and quite frankly- it’s none of your business. But since you’ve made it a mission to insert yourself into my business, I’ll tell you. I’m a widow. I was married to a wonderful, adventurous man named Jonah Stacey and he died of tuberculosis at the young age of 26 a year ago because he was a doctor and caught it from a patient.” Muriel blurted out. This took Rachel by surprise and all she could do was stutter. “This sweater was his. This was his wedding ring.” Muriel said, pulling out the silver wedding band on a chain that hung around her neck. “These are all inventions we made together and this is what he looked like.” the teacher told the lady, pulling various black and white images of her late husband out of the trunk. “This is a beach in a box. He made it for me when we visited my hometown in Cape Breton because he knew I missed the beach when we were living in Toronto.” the blonde explained, opening a tin box to reveal seashells and a tiny love note buried in the sand. “He was kind, level-headed, stubborn and annoyed the life out of me at times but I miss him every day. He was my soulmate and while my birthday was last week, I turned twenty-seven but he never will. So next time one of your suitors graces my doorstep, I will jam my walking stick so far up his-”

“That’s quite enough, Muriel. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” Rachel interrupted. She was devastated she had been so insensitive.

“You should be sorry. You know, we thought we were going to grow old with one another. Like you and Mr.Lynde. But it’s over. The song is ended but the melody lingers on. Every day.” Muriel said, wistfully.

#muriel stacy #muriel x jonah #rachel lynde #miss stacy #awae fanfic #anne with an e fanfic #anne with an e

[newshirtonlines-blog]

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To mark the Dracula Bram Stoker Love Never Dies Halloween shirt . and I will buy this milestone, Victoria posted a picture of the couple with a sweet caption. “They say he isn’t funny, they say I never smile, they said it wouldn’t last,” she wrote. “Today we celebrate 23 years being married. David you are my everything, I love you so much!”. On her Instagram Story, she reposted congratulations from their children, Romeo and Cruz, along with a throwback snap of her and David wheeling monogrammed Louis Vuitton luggage through an airport. David, meanwhile, shared a clip from a long-ago TV interview with Sacha Baron Cohen in character as Ali G. Cohen asks, “Were you into the Spice Girls beforehand?” to which David replies: “No, but I was into Posh.” David also posted a photo of them as a young couple on his Instagram Story with a “23 years today” caption. Their lavish nuptials saw their son Brooklyn, who was three months at the time, act as ring-bearer, while the happy couple enjoyed extravagant touches including gilded thrones and a sword to cut their wedding cake.Dracula Bram Stoker Love Never Dies Halloween shirt, hoodie, sweater, longsleeve and ladies t-shirt

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#DraculaBramStokerLoveNeverDiesHalloweenshirt

[bumbleklee]

what they would get you for christmas

masterlist | 1k prompt masterlist | baby series

pairings: diluc, kaeya, childe, zhongli, thoma and albedo x gn!reader (seperate)

a/n: i haven't seen anyone do this yet but its a very vague idea so if someone had, let me know!!

diluc would struggle to find you a perfect present. after his father died, so did christmas. and despite the maids efforts to keep the spirit alive, diluc just wasn’t interested. that was - until he met you. now, diluc wanted to give you the best gift in the world. in the past years, diluc had opted for a necklace or a ring but this year was different, this year you had been together for a long time and diluc wanted to let you know that he wasn’t going anywhere. when you unwrapped a silver key on christmas morning, you were beyond confused only to realize that it was a key to the winery - a key to your new home. 

kaeya would want to get you something expensive. you mean so much to him and although he knows gifts are materialistic, he still wants to give back to you. he would do little things to work his way up to his big gift, like giving you a random back massage or offering to wash your hair in the bath. in his eyes, his gift was about appreciation. on christmas, kaeya would watch you open a million small presents in anticipation until he finally mustered up the courage to present you with a diamond ring. whenever you wore it, everyone would know you were his. to you, it was a promise ring but to kaeya, it was a ring of promise. 

childe would shower you in everything you’ve ever wanted the second the clock hit twelve on december first. you would wake up to see piles of presents on your beside table each morning, just to have your doting boyfriend clasp a solid gold necklace around your neck or slip emerald earrings into your ears. your wardrobe would shift completely, becoming overrun with expensive clothes and designer shoes. surprisingly, childe had been paying attention to everything you’ve said you liked throughout the year and by christmas, it’s finally in your posession. 

zhongli, unlike childe, would treasure a gift giving. he wanted to shower you in presents but also wanted to stick to something heartfelt and ultimately, that’s what he chose to do. zhongli spent weeks before the holiday trying to find the perfect gift and upon realizing that nothing commercial would be good enough for you, he used his geo abilities to create a one-of-a-kind gemstone that you could choose what to do with. your present suddenly felt lack luster but the smile in your eyes when you unraveled the paper was the best gift he could ask for. 

thoma would run around like a headless chicken trying to find you the perfect gift for weeks. a new sweater? but what if it was the wrong size? a necklace? but you hardly wore necklaces, did you even like them? a box of chocolate? but thoma didn’t know whether you liked milk or dark chocolate. when he was about to give up, thoma resorted to asking for help from none other than yae miko - the nice lady who was always at the shrine. yae helped thoma pick out a handmade perfume/cologne based on your favorite things and you were pleasantly surprised with the scent, overjoyed with your gift. 

albedo was concerned with the metaphysical than gift giving, but this was his first christmas with you and you were adamant about getting each other something. his ideas were bad at first and he knew it - a single flower he picked, an empty beaker, a mitachurl horn he found - and it wasn’t until sucrose suggested a gift that he decided he was going to draw you. if there was one thing albedo was good at, it was art. he spent days working on the perfect portrait for you, mixing hues of colors to create something amazing. your initial shock was all he needed to know he did well. 

#filler post #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #childe x reader #zhongli x reader #thoma x reader #albedo x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin self insert #genshin writing #genshin drabble #genshin diluc #diluc #genshin kaeya #kaeya #genshin childe #childe #tartaglia x reader #thoma #genshin thoma #albedo #genshin albedo

[lonely-lost-soul]

First Lady of the Court

Part 3: Ghostbur (C!Wilbur Soot x reader)

A worn journal was opened, the pages faded and yellowing, a pen was placed on the parchment and the owner began to write. The sun rose over the horizon, and the wind nipped at the writer's skin, but they didn’t feel it. They didn’t feel many of life's sensations anymore, sometimes he felt warmth but it was always fleeting. He titled the page:

"Things I Remember", by Ghostbur

-The smell of bread

- L'Manberg

- The Revolution

- Bullying Tommy (he's a child)

- Sparring with Techno as a kid

- The wind

- Being president

- People cheering for me

- Fundy growing up

- Niki

- (Y/N) becoming my first lady

- The van

- Tubbo building everything

- Phil protecting me

- Sally the salmon

- (Y/N) the new love of my life

- (Y/N) adoring Fundy and treating him as her own

- Philza stabbing me to death with a sword

- A large explosion

-(Y/N) crying for me, I don’t like when she’s sad

- The taste of salt

- Air in my lungs

- Winning the election

- A ravine

- Techno's armory

- Books

- Tunnels

- Arrows

- ./..

-

- I don't know

The ghost’s head snapped up to attention, up until a few months ago he was lost in a void of darkness. Pieces were coming back together for him, he was once Wilbur Soot the president of the country he fought and died for, but now he didn’t have a purpose. He wanted to find Fundy, Tommy and Phil let them know he was here and alright, well alright for a ghost. But most importantly he wanted to find (Y/N), her cries wouldn’t leave his head. It was bad, a bad, bad memory, he’d taken to holding pieces of blue to make him feel better, but even that didn’t help his mood.

Eventually, Wilbur had found Fundy, who wasn’t that thrilled to see him, much to his disappointment. When he found Tommy he was slightly more thrilled and Phil seemed to be relieved yet mournful, Wilbur didn’t understand why, he did a good thing. However he had yet to find her, Phil seemed to be the only one who knew but he was giving him nothing. He didn’t know why was it because you didn’t want to see him? The thought made him want to cover himself in blue and beg for forgiveness. He managed to find a brand new buddy in his mourning, a blue sheep he had dubbed Friend. You would love her, (Y/N) adored sheep she would love Friend, she could be a forgiveness gift. Yet, nobody would tell the ghost where you were no matter how much he begged and pleaded, he watched as his once-prosperous country got rebuilt. Tubbo was doing a fantastic job as president, everyone seemed happy and Ghostbur accepted that fact.

A few days ago, Ghostbur sensed something was wrong. Phil was acting weirdly distant and even though Tubbo was trying to dodge his questions, he couldn’t fathom what was going on, until he saw you. You had come in wearing Alivebur’s old jacket and Ghostbur immediately froze, your hair was slightly messy and you looked tired. You were still you, same gorgeous, beautiful you, if his heart was still beating it would’ve skipped a beat. The only difference he could find was that your eyes looked deader than his own, and he was a ghost, it made him ache terribly. He wanted to float towards you, to welcome you with open arms but for some reason, he hesitated. He watched as Phil made his way over to you, he wrapped you in a hug and you hugged him back, the two made some small talk before Phil rubbed the back of his neck. Your brow furrowed and he watched you blink in surprise, you looked over Phil’s shoulder and right through Wilbur. The ghost would’ve flushed if he had blood, instead he settled on fiddling with the cuffs of his sweater before holding up a hand in a wave. You stumbled back away from him looking over at Phil who gave a little nod, Wilbur watched you shake your head and his heart sunk. His father reached out to you and your face scrunched up, you were hissing at him, clearly pissed off. Phil whacked you on the back of his head and you glared at the older man, Wilbur felt a small nudge on his arm, it was Friend. He took a shaky breath and ran his fingers through her wool, at least she had his back, when he looked up again you were marching over to him.

God, you were hot when you were mad.

“(Y/n)! Darling! It’s good to see you-”

“You son of a bitch!” You spat at him, eyes suddenly blazing with life and fire, Ghostbur felt himself falter and shrink into himself. “You think you can just come back here after what you did to us! How you treated us, how you treated me!” Ghostbur’s face fell, he didn’t remember hurting you, he refused to remember that memory, but the way he clutched his blue said enough. “I loved you! I wanted to marry you!” You choked out suddenly deflating as tears began to well in your eyes, you cursed and covered your face with your sleeve. “I cannot believe I’m crying right now.”

“You need some blue?” Wilbur said in a soft, tender voice different than you last remembered. You looked out over your sleeve finally taking in his ghostly appearance, he was wearing his big, round glasses, eyes a soft grey. Blue seemed to be pooling in the edges almost like tears, he had a shaky smile on his features, the yellow sweater he wore was one you’ve never seen before, a large red gash sat on his chest. He watched you swallow thickly and take a step back from him, “I don’t remember what happened to make you hate me so dear.” His voice quivered and he heard you whimper, “But I am so sorry...you can call me Ghostbur, I want to be different from Alivebur. Though his love for you still lives in me.”

Ghostbur watched you let out a heart-wrenching sob as you fell to your knees in front of him. You were clutching the L’manburg pin on your lapel, knuckles white, hands shaking in petrification. He floated beside you and wrapped you up in his arms, the hug wasn’t unwelcome but it was cold, Wilbur knew you’d feel no warmth from it but he hoped it’d bring you some form of comfort.

“I missed you. So much,” You admitted with a sniff, and Ghostbur couldn’t help but smile sadly.

“I missed you too,” He ran a hand through your hair and you leaned into the apparition's ghostly touch. Ghostbur glanced up at Phil who had a tense smile on his face as he nodded slightly at the ghost, it read don’t hurt her again, and Wilbur nodded. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking all over for you, you need to meet Friend!” His eyes lit up a little as he looked around for his blue sheep, “You’ll love her!”

“I’ve been living with Fundy,” You answered his question and his brows furrowed, but Fundy had told him he had no idea where you lived. “We’ve been taking care of one another, just like I promised you we would,” You responded flatly, your voice had a flat affect and Wilbur shuffled uncomfortably in the air.

Where was your spark? Your lust for life and the good things? Was this his fault?

No. No, it couldn’t have been, he refused to accept that outcome.

Alivebur loved you just as much as Ghostbur did, he felt that love so deep in his being it was almost suffocating. So, he’d never hurt you, you don’t hurt the people you love and that’s a fact. So why were you so sad?

“That’s weird. Fundy said he couldn’t find you!” Ghostbur huffed, shaking his head at his son's actions, “My silly, little champion.”

“Ghostbur don’t call him that, he doesn’t like it.” You stated gruffly crossing your arms and his frown only deepened,

“What do you mean he doesn’t like it? Of course, he likes it, he loves it!”

“No Wil he doesn’t. Stop it.” You hissed and he flinched, your face fell a little and you turned away from him. You shoved your hands in the pockets of the jacket, “I need a smoke.” You muttered and his jaw dropped,

“That’s bad for you! You know that!”

“So what? It makes me fucking feel better. You’re not my Wilbur. Stop pretending you give a shit about me.”

“I do care! I love you!” He argued desperately, “I know I’m not him. I can never be him but that doesn’t mean I love you any less. His love transferred to me, please...give me a chance.” You looked at him up and down and he’s never felt more terrified in his entire existence, he needed your hope, he could fix you.

“You don’t understand how much he hurt me.” You whispered completely vulnerable, “he went crazy, blew up a nation, and left me alone.”

He. Meaning Alivebur, Ghostbur was glad he was distinguishing the difference between the both of them. He didn’t remember doing that to you, after all, Ghostbur didn’t do that to you.

“I’ll never leave you alone. I can promise you that, with my whole heart I swear it.” He took your hands within his own, he knew you could barely feel his touch. You closed your eyes for a minute before reopening them,

“I’ll give you one chance. One. So help me god, if you ruin that chance I will never speak to you again. That’s a promise.”

Ghostbur swallowed thickly, nerves prickling at his entire being, “I won’t waste that chance, my dear.” You gave a stern nod and rubbed the back of your neck with a tired sigh,

“So...Friend?”

Ghostbur’s entire demeanor changed as he introduced you to the blue sheep that had taken a rather strong liking to him. The sheep nuzzled at your chest sniffing at your clothing choice, you hesitated a little before running your fingers through her wool.

“She’s very soft.”

“I know right!” he chimed wrapping his arms tight around his sheepy buddy, he buried his face in her wool. Ghostbur saw a weary smile spread across your face which made him smile back at you in return.

Maybe this could still work out for the both of you.

Months went by and you had set up residence outside of New L’manburg, everyone understood why you couldn’t make a permanent home out of the new country after everything that occurred there. In between watching over an exiled Tommy, Ghostbur would come by and visit you, even though you hated to admit it the ghost of your former lover had won you over. He was just so innocent so unlike the man who blew up his own country, so much like the goofball you had originally fallen in love with, you were enraptured. When New L’manburg blew up you weren’t surprised, there was a dull ache in your heart when you heard the news from a sobbing Ghostbur but you couldn’t feel sympathy. What you did feel sympathy about though was Phil’s uncaring attitude towards Friend, it was the first time you heard Ghostbur get legitimately angry.

It scared you more than you wanted to admit.

Even so, you confronted your former lover; he didn’t like sadness and tried to push the feeling away. You tried to comfort him the best way you could but he insisted he was fine opting to take his blue and forget his sadness. That was another thing, his quote on quote blue, it never did sit right with you. Hurt, sadness, and pain are hard emotions to face but they create character and depth and ultimately shouldn’t just be forgotten so easily, after all, how will you ever learn from your mistakes if you don’t experience sadness. Ghostbur didn’t want to hear your reasoning and still took towards using the blue, you eventually gave up trying to convince him otherwise.

You were sitting outside on your porch, rocking on your porch swing a cup of cocoa in your hand. Ghostbur was sitting beside you, head on your shoulder humming a soft tune to himself,

“Darling?”

“Hm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Ghostbur had asked so innocently it made your heart leap into your throat. Thoughts of Wilbur and his betrayal flashed across your mind, you wanted to scream and say no. That you’ll never let someone like that hurt you again, you were too strong, you opened your mouth but the hope in Ghostbur’s eyes made you close your mouth. This wasn’t the Wilbur you knew, this was Ghostbur, sure he was the ghost of Wilbur but they were so different. Ghostbur made you happy, he made you remember what it was like to be a good person, made you remember what it was like when you first met Wilbur. He made you smile and laugh, and he genuinely adored and cared for your happiness. You found yourself uttering a soft okay before your brain could comprehend your decision, the smile that lit up across Ghostbur’s face was illuminating. He floated over to you and cupped your cheeks, his pale hands were freezing, but it felt good against your scalding hot cheeks. Ghostbur’s eyes softened as he stroked your cheeks with his thumbs, he leaned forward and captured your lips in a soft kiss, the kiss was cold but not unpleasant. You felt him melt against you, and press desperately on to your lips, you couldn’t help but let out a little giggle you felt him pull away. He had the cutest pout on his pale lips,

“Don’t giggle at my kisses!” Ghostbur sounded so offended, you only laughed harder. “Stopppppppp,” he whined leaning against you dramatically.

“I’m sorry Ghostbur.” You covered your mouth with your hand, “You’re just too cute.”

You watched him freeze at your genuine compliment, a smile broke across his features,

“No, you’re cute!” Ghostbur cooed floating around you and wrapping his arms tight around your waist. You leaned into his touch with bright red cheeks,

“You’re a goofball,” You whispered softly, he nuzzled his face into your hair,

“I love you.” You froze in his arms and tensed up, reality crashing back onto all at once. Did you really kiss your dead lover's ghost? The lover who was a fucking asshole to you and blew up an entire country.

Not a girl boss moment.

“You don’t have to say it back,” Ghostbur was quick to add, “I know how hard this is for you. There’s no pressure with me my dear, I just want you to know how I feel.” He pressed the sweetest of kisses to the side of your head. Tears gathered in the corner of your eyes, not out of sadness, out of shock. You couldn’t believe Ghostbur was once Wilbur, the same man you yelled and screamed at you before his death, Ghostbur was wonderful. Ghostbur was kind and sweet, gentle and tender, one day you’d be ready to say you love him, just not yet, not when everything is so fresh.

“Thank you Ghostbur. You don’t know how much that means to me.”

“Anything for you my dear.”

Months turned into years and you had officially fallen in love with your clingy ghost and his blue sheep. You knew he loved you to absolute bits, there were many occasions where Phil and Technoblade came up to you and begged you to get Ghostbur to stop gushing about you. You only turned red and smiled fondly, they scoffed but ruffled your hair, overall both were happy to see you smiling again. You hadn’t kept up with the dramas of the SMP, all your information was from Ghostbur, which happened to be not all that reliable.

You loved him but he was so naive, Tommy and Tubbo had defeated Dream, taken two of his cannon lives, and locked him in Sam’s prison. When Ghostbur told you a smile overtook your features, finally the bastard was getting what he deserved.

Isolation.

Tommy was growing closer with Ghostbur again too, which you couldn’t help but be happy about, he too deserved to heal from the trauma Wilbur had inflicted. You trusted Tommy, even when everyone else didn’t you tried to have his back and showed you he cared in his own weird way. Which mostly meant not stealing your shit, which you weren’t complaining about, today, however, he seemed tense. You both were walking the Prime Path on your way back to your abode, Tommy was loud and rambling, but they were different from his usual ramblings.

“Tommy?”

“What is it, women? I’m in the middle of my heroic story!”

“Are you alright?” You glanced at him out of the corner of your eyes and saw him go rigid. He cleared his throat shaking away his nerves,

“Fuck you talking about? Of course, I’m okay bitch. Don’t interrupt me again!” He scoffed nose high in the air, you narrowed your eyes and he shrunk under your gaze. “I just…” He rubbed the back of his neck, you thought about his resurrection and assumed it had something to do with that, your gaze drifted to the white streaks littering his hair.

“Hey...it’s okay. Just know I’m here for you,” You assured with a smile. You reached up to squeeze his shoulder, he looked shocked at the affectionate gesture,

“Obviously I know that! Don’t assume things bitch!” Tommy shouted shaking off your hand, you shook your head with a smile and let Tommy continue his story. If the young boy wanted to tell you, he would on his own terms. That night Ghostbur had come home absolutely shaking with excitement,

“Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo said we’re going on an adventure tonight!” Ghostbur was absolutely glowing, you couldn’t help but smile faintly at his antics.

“Don’t have too much fun.” You chastised teasingly, ghostbur giggled in delight as you pressed a kiss to his cold skin. “Stay safe, don’t let them bully you too much.”

“They don’t bully me,” he huffed but he leaned in for another kiss. Ghostbur had discovered he loved your kisses, even though they were probably cold to you all he felt was warmth. If he was a hybrid like his son his tail would be wagging, and if he was alive he’d be bright red. “I love you (y/n), of course, I’ll stay safe. I promised you I’d never leave you remember?”

You flushed and nodded, “I remember. I’ll see you when you get home.”

“Until then my dear!” He took your hand within his own and kissed the tops of your knuckles. You flushed pink and he sent you a cheeky grin,

“Get out of here loverboy! Don’t keep the children waiting!” You shouted as he floated out the door with a giant wave,

“I’ll be sending you kisses!”

“Ghostbur oh my god, go already!” You giggled with a fond roll of your eyes, he laughed loudly and floated out the door.

You should’ve told him you loved him. It’s okay, there would always be tomorrow.

You were getting ready for bed when Tubbo called you over the walkie-talkie, he was frantically apologizing and pleading for you to come to the crater that was L’manburg. Tommy then stole the walkie talking and started shouting about Ghostbur and your heart sink into your chest. He didn’t make a whole lot of sense but you put on a coat over your pajamas and ran in the direction of the once-prosperous nation. When you got there Tubbo and Tommy were a mess, Ranboo was trying to calm them down and Friend looked uncomfortable.

Where was Ghostbur?

You opened your mouth to call out to the boys when a pair of arms snuck around your waist. They were warm and real, pale hands caressed your abdomen,

“Hi, darling. Did you miss me?” Warm lips handed on your neck, “I missed you.”

Wilbur was back.

~~~ @blossom-702 @mayempress @thatguythatsshy

#c!wilbur x reader #c!wilbur x you #dreamsmp x reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #dreamsmp x you #minecraft x reader #minecraft x you #fanfiction #minecraft fanfiction #fanfic #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x y/n #part iii #first lady of the court #angst #fluff #dreamsmp fluff #romance

[killmebythebeach]

A bunch of head cannons (Maybe too much). Also in talking about the characters.

I think Dream is that one design where his skin is just the static tv screen. He just constantly emits that fuzzy noise, Sam crafted him the smile mask that he can see through so he doesn't scare people.

George is just kind of the server itself. He's the same species as Hannah, but a mushroom and more powerful. If he stays awake too long, the server just kind of freezes. This is also a reason XD keeps him sleeping, it's his way of talking to George and he thinks the server is like his soap opera of mortals.

Callahan is sort of like the person who makes sure George doesn't get killed or dies while asleep, making sure he's surrounded by mushrooms and such. Deer hybrid <3

Alyssa joined the server because she knew all her friends were idiots and didn't want them to die immediately. But once the elections rolled around, she felt the pressure of choosing sides and ran away to the desert, only keeping contact with Ponk. She actually lives just a couple miles from Foolish's summer home. Her communicator actually died after a couple months and she had no way of charging it, so she lost contact with everyone.

Sapnap is a magma cube hybrid and can jump higher than most, his natural temperature runs hotter, and is fire proof. Bad found him in the nether when he was maybe 10-15 years old.

Sam was actually a normal creeper, but gained player like sentience from being struck by lightning. Instead of becoming charged, he gained intelligence and met the others on the server. Callahan taught him some Redstone, but from there he figured out a lot on his own. He's also a creeper centaur.

Ponk is actually a descendant of a fairy, a lemon tree. Their mask was also a gift from Sam because after the second or third time their tree was burnt, their immune system was weakened a considerable amount. Alyssa also wore her mask for them.

Bad is a size shifting demon from the nether, more specifically soul sand desert. He uses soul fire to gain strength, so because the egg died when near it, he was just a little weaker than normal. Because he's a demon he needs a tie to the overworld to stay there, he tied his soul and lives to Skeppy.

Tommy was grown in a lab to be a hero, project: THESEUS. The lab gave him small enhancements, like slightly stronger and just a bit more resilient, to make the Above Average Boy (TM). He then ran away to meet Wilbur. When Dream asked Wilbur if he wanted to come to the server, he asked if Tommy could go first to see what it was like. He also actually really likes gardening and making up funny songs to Wilbur playing guitar. He also made funny lyrics for his discs, but he's still a bit scared to take them out of his ender chest. Other than bringing attachment, Dream also exiled Tommy to see what his lab enhancements could do.

Tubbo is an adaptive hybrid! His hair was blond, shifting to brown when Wilbur found him, getting blue eyes from Tommy, growing small horns under Schlatt, parts of his skin being static when Dream was "helping" him with his presidency, and parts of his scars tinging black and green from Ranboo and Micheal. Tubbo also helped Wilbur write part of the anthem. He likes living in the snow because the Manberg flag had magma blocks on it, casting a heatwave over the country, and after L'Manburg blew up it got really hot from the exposed stone in direct sun.

Fundy can actually hold his breath for a very long time and swim very well because of Sally teaching him and his salmon genes. The yellow things on his hat are actually shells, and the stripes on his jacket are trans colors. Also with his dreams, he saw Eret was going to betray them but didn't think it was real, or didn't want to. He also saw Wilbur blow up L'Manburg but chose not to believe it, thinking his father could still be saved. He actually saw pretty much everything, but didn't quite understand what they were until after doomsday.

The necklace Punz wears is one of those picture lockets, but he lost the picture and can't remember what it was. The first time Dream paid him was when Dream asked for help and Punz made an off hand joke about getting money, and then Dream thought he was being serious. Him, Dream, and Sapnap were like brothers, and Punz got sadder every time he saw Dream pushing people away and diving deeper into darkness.

Purpled is an aliensent to see if the planet was colonizable, but then crashed and was stranded, all his communications down and his ship barely able to hover fifty feet off the ground. When Quackity blew it up, he essentially got rid of his chance of ever going home. Purpled's species can shapeshift, so he turned himself into the first person he saw, Punz. Eventually before trying to communicate with the native life forms, he edited his form a little so they weren't identical, keeping purple eyes and antennae, changing the colors slightly, and changing the voice up. When he moves away from the main SMP, Ponk makes sure to check up on him and that he has a way to check his communicator.

Wilbur came a month after sending Tommy. His father being a patron of life and his mother the goddess of death, he met in the middle being born as a human. The only reason Ghostbur was as active and present as he was was because he was so connected to both life and death. Since his corpse was decaying for as long as it was, Wilbur is now super weak, his flesh is thin and his eyes are rotted and gone. Much like Ghostbur, Wilbur in limbo saw what people said about him, and Ghostbur could hear that from the back of his head. Now Wilbur can hear what people say about Ghostbur and he hates it, not wanting to be connected to what he thinks like a shell of himself.

Schlatt is a ram (duh) and actually does the fainting goat thing. So when he died of a heart attack, no one knew at first if he was actually dead or not. His alcoholism stems from the revive book, as the possibility of tampering with death made him existential and scared, so to cope he drank. There are also a ton of other stuff other than revival in the book, but it's in galactic.

Skeppy was just a normal human, but after making the pact with Bad, Bad put a spell on him. Parts of him turned into diamond, protecting both his and Bad's lives. He however, is unaware of this. With the egg, he would just sit on it, the diamonds chipping away to make room for the vines.

Eret was cursed by the Wither Cult, giving them white eyes and a slowly deteriorating memory. Not sure what to do, Foolish dropped them off at the SMP. Sometimes they would dream about old memories from before the curse, but it was just glimpses so he could never tell what they meant. Once they were king, they made the Herobrine shrine subconsciously, not really sure what it was after. They also had a strange affinity of beacons and resurrection, some of their memories resurfacing when they tried to help Phil and Ghostbur revive Wilbur after doomsday. The reason people are more scared of their eyes than any other wierd eyes was because he generally looks like a normal human, but the wither along with their Herobrine origins creates an uncanny valley that people are shocked by.

Jack had red and blue irises before crawling out of hell, but after coming back the whites of his eyes also turned red and blue. He always wears 3d glasses so no one noticed, but he just thought no one cared enough to mention it. He also has a bunch of scars and burn marks that no one but him can see, therefore no one asks about them or thinks something is wrong, cementing the idea that no one cares about him.

Niki is a blaze hybrid (stole this from @/420technoblazeit) whose fire hair color changes based on strong emotion, something she bond with Tubbo for as a fellow shifter. A soft yellow in L'Manburg, brighter orange in Manburg, hot pink on Doomsday, a soul fire blue with the syndicate (which Techno hates), and a dead grey when she found out Wilbur was alive. She was also old child hood friends with Ranboo and Eret, leaving Ranboo for the SMP. Ranboo, unfortunatly, doesn't remember much more than her name. She also knows galactic from Ranboo, so she talks about her troubles to Shy the Enderman. She doesn't really know how to talk to Puffy anymore after Doomsday or finding out how she wants to protect Tommy.

Quackity can perfectly replicate someone's voice and, with a lot of effort, can completely change his form to another player. He also has very small yellow wings, too small to fly, so he almost always hides them. He used to constantly change his voice for jokes with Karl, Sapnap, and George, but he doesn't like doing it now in Las Nevadas, as he sees it as unprofessional. However, sometimes he uses when he visits Dream, changing his voice to people like George and Sapnap to make torture more effective.

In the In Between and Other Side, Karl actually looks like his old skin, or his natural state (the big purple one that inspired his sweater). But most of the time in the normal world, he looks human. With effort he can bring out the interdemential being thing, something only Quackity and Sapnap know about. The more he time travels, the easier it becomes to change, and he's even started defaulting to the other form.

HBomb is actually just a normal news reporter, sent to interview and record what's going on in the server, his first big story being the election. Upon Doomsday, the stress of seeing everyone alone, fighting, and disconnected, he ran away from the world, essentially becoming a cat lady. His undercover reporter persona is actually the cat maid. He eventually came back to the server to see how he could help after Doomsday, befriending Niki again and living with her in the underground city.

Techno is a piglin, so he's scared of soul fire. He forgot to tell Phil before he decorated the syndicate room, so he just suffers in silence. He also does better when around a lot of gold, like in the nether, and he feels drained and slightly weaker without it. Instead of just putting gold around the area (it would ruin his property value), he just hibernates. He has an emerald earing, like all of the syndicate, but his is a locket that unfolds into pictures of the syndicate.

Ant always wears a red hoodie, now ruined by the egg, that used to be Red's. On Red's death anniversary, him, Bad, Skeppy, and Sam would make cake and put flowers on his grave. He missed the last one because it was during the egg, but for a brief moment after Puffy killed him he saw Red. Red then promptly and bluntly told him to stop being a pussy (haha, cat) and that he shouldn't do all this just to get him back, one of Ant's motivators to make amends with the people he hurt while with the egg. Ant is also a shapeshifter, but can only turn into a cat.

Phil actually used to work under Foolish as a patron of life but then he had a son with the goddess of death, so his title was removed so he could be with her and he became an Angel of Death. Kristin noticed how sad he was after being released, so she gifted him wings. They were however, destroyed on November 16th. His chat also serves as messenger pigeons, which were used to send letters to Wilbur.

Connor is actually just a hedgehog who somehow befriended Schlatt. Even before the haunted mansion, Karl vented to him about his time travel troubles, not knowing he was a sentient player. As a hedgehog, no one really cares where he goes, so he goes outside the server limits to meet his friends from the haunted mansion.

Puffy is a distant relative of Schlatt, but instead of politics she went into piracy. With her mom, she went travelling the seas. One say, a storm came and wiped out her ship, her crew, her mom, everything but her. The reason she survived was because Foolish saw her and saved her. Unfortunately, Puffy hit hee head in the crash and doesn't remember anything.

Vikkstar is the equivalent of a big time celebrity, so of course his endorsement of POG2020 was a big deal.

Lazarbeam is literally just a ginger bread cookie.

Ranboo has actually met a lot of the smp before actually joining. He's met Niki, Fundy, Eret, Punz, and Dream at least. He also sees the inverted colors Enderman see. His suit was actually a gift from Eret before they forgot how to tailor. He got the crown from Techno after joining the syndicate, claiming he didn't want any syndicate members to look like trash.

Foolish came to the server most recently to check up on Eret, but he couldn't bring himself to leave again. When Puffy adopts him, he can't say no because he remembers saving her. His initial goal was to kill an ender dragon to claim the XD title and become a full god like DreamXD, but after realising someone already killed it he went into his totem if death phase. Upon meeting Eret, he got over it and they went on some silly adventures, Foolish now taking a more peaceful route.

Hannah is essentially a weaker George, as her power is tied to the plants themselves and not the entire server. She however has a lot more physical power because rose dryads like to fight because they have thorns. Since roses can be taken out a lot easier, she is essentially a glass canon. Also when around any plant, she can make it grow faster than normal.

Any guest on the server? Corpse, Pokimane, Lil Nas? They were all Slimecicle. That's how he knows where everyone is from, even outside of Las Nevadas. No one else knows this. He's also ancient, if he met Phil they would probably recognise eachother. There was an actual Charlie Slimecicle who was not a slime, but after being launched into orbit this Slimecicle decided to impersonate him.

Michael Mcchill is a sort of bounty hunter. He came to the server after hearing of all the crime, assuming there'd be a lot of bounties to collect. However, he soon learned that no one really cares if you commit a crime. He then took to reading news articles made by HBomb to see if there were any past open bounties. But after reading for a while about the server's wronguns, mostly Dream, he began to sympathise with them. And he's also a speedrunner, so maybe he could help with some bounties across other servers!

This was a very long post and i apologize, but it was so fun to finally write all these thoughts down! I hope you liked them! I can't even fit all the tags I want.

#dream smp #c!sapnap #awesamdude #dropsbyponk #badboyhalo #tommyinnit #tubbo live #fundy #c!punz #purpled #wilbur soot #skeppy #schlatt #dreamwastaken #georgenotfound #eret live #jack manifold #niki nihachu #quackity #karl jacobs #hbomb dream smp #antfrost #technoblr #philza #captain puffy #connoreatspants #ranboo #dsmp foolish #hannahxxrose #slimecicle

[neonponders]

*sigh* here’s part 2 of this ghost!Steve drabble haha 

Maybe one day I’ll write it as a proper fic.

• • • • • • •

It was the clothes that made Billy’s stomach turn, what made him rush into the house’s bathroom and eject his breakfast.

Mrs. Harrington kept all of her son’s clothes. Billy supposed this would be an obsessive red flag if she weren’t able to talk to her son everyday for the last sixty years.

Despite her slowed speech and gait, her weathered, elegant hands cracked open a ginger ale for him. “Just be glad you missed the trial and error period. Trying to figure out what his soul had attached to was like waiting out another war.”

Billy leaned against the doorjamb as he sipped the cold soda. “How’d you do it?”

“Well he didn’t haunt his widow, thank god—”

“Where is she?” Billy asked before he could help it.

“Magnolia Cemetery. Good riddance to the bitch.”

His eyes widened. Mrs. Harrington was a classy lady despite owning a pawnshop, but with a son and husband long since passed, and one of them lingering around, Billy supposed she had the right to say whatever she wanted. “How’s she go?”

“Pleaded some mental disorder in court and spent her time in a hospital instead of prison. Then she married some sorry fool and got pregnant. I admit, she looked normal from that point on, and everyone thought the hospital did wonders. But I had my baby to tell me his side of things.”

Billy followed her back into the guestroom. “Steve hasn’t mentioned her.”

“No, he wouldn’t. I raised a sweet boy who turned into a gullible man. Which I consider a victory with a husband who had post trauma dripping out of his ears.”

“World War…one?” Billy recollected. This was all too bizarre for someone who skipped town on his eighteenth birthday to escape a father with Vietnam War bullshit.

“That’s right. My Johnny was a good man but he held expectations over Steve’s head. So Steve married too young and to the wrong person. I’m sure he loved her, but it was in the way young love is. Help me put these away.”

Merciless, he complained inwardly, but reached for white shirt and blazer-type jacket still bearing the brown bloodstains in which Steve had died. Then he paused. “Steve doesn’t wear these.”

“Pardon?”

Billy could see his ghoulish roommate easily in his mind’s eye. The white t-shirt that stuck up beneath the dark sweater, making Steve look as young as he’d been while alive. “Steve died in these, but the—however you want to say it—the clothes he wears now aren’t these.”

“Well, no. He loathed that suit. He could never get his hair to comb flat, and the new age denim was the only thing he didn’t tear right through. Back then, our circle of people thought he dressed below us. Really, he just wore what he liked and what served him. It’s what his soul imprinted on.”

Billy raised a brow at her lighting a pipe near the open window. He often smoked cigarettes, so he had no place to judge. She’d made it this long with her own methods.

“I suppose I have to ask…how’d it happen?”

“Bullet in the head,” she answered bluntly. “Steve and her side man got into a fight for the whole town to see. Then he went over that night to apologize, but she was there, cleaning up the wrong man. Steve claims something else was going on, but his memory is faulty. Ghosts aren’t good at remembering their last seconds alive, but it sounds like a typical cheating scandal.”

Billy frowned. “You…don’t buy it?”

She puffed away at the pipe. In the back of Billy’s mind, a tickle of mirth moved at the notion of having a smoking buddy.

“I was like you. Didn’t have much room in my thoughts for anything supernatural. Then my son was taken and returned. But I wasn’t the one who saw him first. My mother did. We didn’t have it in us to tell her, so she didn’t go to the funeral. Nanny, none the wiser. Then I came back, wearing my terrible black dress and ripping some black netting off my face—to see him sitting on the piano bench, making her almost go cardiac with laughter. Steve was always close to his Nanny.”

 She sighed fragrant smoke and finished, “That old woman had the ring. That’s what took so long. She had to die before I pieced it together.”

“What did your husband think of all of it?”

For a moment, Billy thought she hadn’t heard him. Then, “Johnny couldn’t see him. He could hear the piano and the guitar going. He could argue with his son beyond the grave, making books fly off shelves and furniture tip over, but he couldn’t see him.”

Billy made a pfft sound with his mouth, returning to the task of setting Steve’s clothes in protective bags and boxes. “I guess he and I have the dad thing in common.”

“I reckon there’s more than that,” she said, almost to herself. “But that’s for you the two of you to figure out. Anyways, once the door’s open, you can’t stop the wind from moving how it likes. Once I saw Steve, I saw a whole lot else.”

Billy took the ginger ale can off the bedside dresser and sipped. “Do you think his wife was possessed by something?”

She turned away from the window and moved at her pace to exit the room. “I think the Wheeler clan has never held a drop of dementia in its blood except for that woman on that night.”

Billy let the soda in his mouth slip right back into the can. His stomach plummeted right down to his feet, unable to hold any more. “Wheeler? Like…Nancy Wheeler?”

“One and the same,” Mrs. Harrington confirmed, biting on her pipe stem to reach for a box labeled Photographs. “You just wait, darlin’. The family resemblance is uncanny.”

Yeah. Billy didn’t need a photo to know that. Because now Steve’s frequent requests to drive by the newsstand made sense. Billy thought Steve’s eyes got wet looking at the progress of editorial printing and photography. Or the seeing the little dates in the corners of newspapers just go on and on without him.

It never occurred to Billy that Steve wanted to see her.

Skinny Nancy Wheeler with pretty eyes, Billy had to admit, and a bit of an overeager, bossy quality that Billy didn’t fully understand yet. She was nice enough. Quick to retort, and argued with her equally lanky brother with no regard for audience around them. It reminded Billy of his own stepsister—

He took the frame without thinking about it. Nancy had short hair, where her relative had long, but…Abigail Thornton-Harrington was a shock to behold.

“The Wheeler men have all been dunces until lately,” Mrs. Harrington rattled off as mercilessly as ever, never giving Billy a chance to process or recover. “Whatever god exists, did me a favor by not letting Abigail Wheeler stick around this town after passing.”

As sick as Billy felt, for…more reasons than he was able to contemplate right now…he frowned. Why does Steve like visiting the spinning image of his murderer?

Billy doesn’t ask when he gets home. He showers the soft, old woman smell off himself, dumps his clothes in the laundry, and with the towel still around his hips, he calls out, “Steve?”

The answer he gets is the lamp beside the bed turning on. Beneath the cone of light, is a glass cup with a branch of wild roses more so hanging out of the cup than in the water. Billy’s neighbor landscaped with roses. Steve’s haunt circumference isn’t large, but it doesn’t obey property boundaries.

“Can I see you?”

The house stood quietly around him. The neighborhood may be old, but Billy lucked out in renting some of the houses that were rebuilt throughout the block. Foundational issues, age, and such. Now, though, he sighed. Did he have to wait for July to pass before he could see Steve again?

Billy didn’t like it, but he wanted to try something.

As evening fell over Hawkins, he put the ring on his finger and went to the newsstand. Surprisingly, Nancy wasn’t there. She was the type to be in early and clock out only when the doors were being locked for the night. Billy felt both annoyed and pleased. He actually liked Nancy—until recently, and he didn’t want to think too heavily on that—but this other guy was fine, he supposed. “Hey, Jonathan.”

The young man perked up from distractedly watching a younger kid sitting on the long booth along the wall. “Hi, Billy. Can I get you something?”

Billy pretended to care about the magazines his fingers flipped through but glanced at the booth. “Who’s that?”

“My brother, Will. My mom’s on her way to get him.”

Said brother perked up. “Hey! Are you the music guy?”

Billy had to crack a smile. He was the only one in this town with a shred of taste. Or so he thought. “Yeah, probably.”

Jonathan smiled and apologized, “Will likes music. And video games and stuff.”

“A mixed bag keeps boredom away,” Billy disregarded, but now he didn’t really have any reason for being here—

“My mom really liked your recommendation for Louis Armstrong. She’s always trying to make me dance with her, but that ‘la vie en rose’ song was really easy for me.”

Billy’s conversational smile faded as one second Will spoke to no one, and then the next, Steve sat next to him with his arm stretched over the back of the booth. In a room with ghoulish fluorescent lighting, Steve looked damn near human. Alive.

“Armstrong’s great. His slower stuff is famous now for some reason, but his faster stuff is incredible. Don’t get me started on Ella Fitzgerald. Most beautiful voice you’ll ever hear. They jammed a lot together. It’s all old stuff for you, but it’s timeless, you know? And—um—never mind, you might be too young to know how hot Josephine Baker was.”

“I’m thirteen,” Will scoffed benevolently. “Who’s that?”

“Will?” Jonathan said. Billy’s heart kicked up to his throat as he asked, “Who are you talking to?”

Billy clenched his fist, pad of his thumb pressing down on the gold band on his finger while he announced to no one, “I’ll be heading out. Thanks, Jonathan.”

“Uh, you’re welcome,” he said, perplexedly looking at the magazines, of which Billy hadn’t bought any.

“Steve,” he growled as soon as his door slammed in the car.

“What?” he finally got as his engine roared out of the lot and down Main Street.

“What do you mean, ‘what?’ You can’t just talk to kids!”

“Of course I can,” Steve refuted in the passenger seat. He leaned his arm on the door to hold his head up, as if arguing took too much energy. “Will and Joyce come into the shop all the time. I don’t judge them for it.”

“I’m not talking about money problems! I’m talking about this white bread town knocking on my queer fucking door because the kids are talking to air!”

Steve’s head rotated to look at him, and Billy realized, they’d never talked about this. They’d never talked about Billy having men over because once Billy knew Steve was around all the time, he stopped dating. Stopped hooking up. Stopped…being interested in anyone else.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Steve finally said.

“It does if you’re a bigot,” Billy deflated somewhat, focusing on the road. “They’ll grab their heirloom pitchforks and come after me. Hell raiser faggot. Corrupting the kids with my…ghosts and shit.”

For a beat of time, only the sound of the Camaro on nocturnal streets moved between them. And then Steve laughed. Laughed genuinely and mockingly, but not at Billy. “They should take that up with the occult shop on Maple Marsh Lane. Even in my lifetime, we had a rumor of some guy dying there before it was a shop. No one’s ever bothered that shopkeeper. Plenty of people gossip about the pawnshop ghost. And everyone’s a hypocrite because no one wants to admit that they can’t control their kids getting drunk or high in East Village. Queer part of town. That hasn’t changed.”

That was…a lot. Just like the rest of the day, Billy had a lot to process. Namely, how the hell Steve knew where the queer side of town was.

#harringrove #ghost!steve #1920s!steve #1980s!billy #ficlet #neonponders

[mha-platonic-yanderes]

Settling In: Parentals

Inspired by @i-cant-sing and their Yandere Todoroki Clan AU

The room is pink. Well, it’s mostly pink. It’s pink with white furniture and embellishments. The closet doors are white and so is the windowsill. The floor is hardwood brown. But everything else is a bubblegum pink.

You’d prefer another color, one that wasn’t so bright and grating to the eyes. But you don’t say that. You just fiddle with your one dufflebag’s handle. This is all you have left, after bouncing around from group home to group home. A year ago—when your parents died—you had thrice as much. Now this and the backpack for schoolwork is all you have left.

“Do you like it?” The mother of this house and wife to the current number one hero, asks you a question. He’s not here; nobody’s here except you two. The house seems too big for three people, but there are pictures on the wall of others. It doesn’t look lived in; there is no semblance of a family. Though, the pictures on the wall show a six person family. It shows that there are four more people here and you get your own room. In a house with now seven people, you get your own room and you aren’t giving it up.

Despite the pink color and the vast emptiness, you answer honestly, “Yeah, I do.” You do like it, even if it's not for the right reasons

Her hands are on your shoulder. You can feel the increased pressure on one side lift up, almost as if she’d been purposefully holding onto you too tight.

“Good. Now, let’s unpack.” She gracefully takes the bag out of your hand, setting it atop the bed. You sit down alongside it, opening your backpack. A couple of notebooks, pencils, and two textbooks sit inside.

You start to stand, heading to take the materials to the desk they’ve provided. Though, whilst holding a pair of pajamas—slightly too little but in [y/f/c]—she takes the books out of your hand.

“Just relax, [Y/N].” Rei replies, “Let me handle it.”

You sit on the bed twiddling with your blouse’s edge. You wore your best outfit, even though it was just your school uniform, without the frumpy sweater. 

The bed is insanely soft. With satin sheets, a thick, fluffy comforter, and a healthy amount of pillows, it's easily the softest place you’ve been.

“I’ll have a driver return your school books back to your former school.” Rei replies, on the other side of the room. You shift to look at her, but she has her back turned to you. “I’ll discuss with my husband what school to place you at.”

“Alright.” You’ve had to transfer schools about three times since last year. Moving again isn’t a hassle anymore. You know not to hope you won’t move again. Though. you know not to get attached to anything in case you have to—in case this doesn’t work out.

“We’ll get you a better education than the one you were definitely receiving.” You can hear the gentle thump of one of your textbooks. She heads back to your duffle bag; it’s now half empty. “My eldest three all went to Somei Private Academy for junior high. Two ended up continuing through highschool as well. My eldest went to Shiketsu and my youngest is in Yuuei now.”

You know those schools. They’re expensive, private academies. You’ve only ever been in public schools. The wealth was obvious when you were picked up in a blackened car with a driver. You just didn’t expect them to spend that money on you, a lowly orphan.

“Or we’ll just hire a set of tutors like we did for our youngest before he went to Yuuei.” She decides what to hang up or fold. You’ll have to go through it all later to find everything. Luckily, you don’t own much—or unluckily, depends on how you look at it. But you don’t dwell on the issue long, responding quickly to the lady, “Alright.”

She smiles at you. It’s sincere, motherly. It’s what your mother would’ve done, before the accident. It’s something you sorely missed since then.

“You’re extremely agreeable, aren’t you?” She finishes out the bag, pressing it into the top of your closet. Your backpack gets sat beside the desk. This room is large and your things are set in its appropriate places across from it. 

“I guess.”

“That’s a good thing, darling.” She goes to mess with your hair, “Now, for dinner tonight, let's change you into something a bit nicer, yes?”

You pause, looking at your toes in their pristine white socks. You can see her legs as well, considering how close she is to you, “This is the nicest thing I own.”

“That’s fine. We’ll just have to go shopping for some new things.” Rei replies, taking her other hand to your chin, forcing you to look her in the eyes, “Enji and I know what we are getting ourselves into, buying you a whole new wardrobe will be nothing.”

She takes her hands from your head and into your hands, helping you up.

“Where are we going?” She leads you back from your room to the rest of the house.

“Shopping, darling.” Rei replies, “We have five hours to do so, before I must start dinner, that is. Is there anything you want?”

“No, not really.” She’s already planning to drop a substantial amount of money on you and she’s already being incredibly maternal. You aren’t going to stretch that patience thin and have her snap already. You aren’t going to ruin this for yourself.

She smiles at you, “I’ll figure out what you like soon enough.”

===

The shopping mall standing in front of you was not where you usually would’ve gone. A basic department store, maybe a strip mall if you’re lucky would be where you usually shopped. This place however, is at least four stories high standing stark white and black against the almost colorless blue-grey sky. Though, you don’t get to admire it long. Rei quickly pulls you out of the cold outdoors and into the perfectly heated building.

“Now, I say we head to clothing stores first and then to more home goods type stores, so we don’t have to pack the heavy stuff around. Though, if we get too much to carry, we can send it back to the car and then continue shopping.” Rei replies, “Is that alright?”

You nod, still reluctantly going along this whole situation. The car is actually a limo and you have your own room in a massive estate. You have an impossibly nice and maternal caretaker who’s insanely rich. This is your “Annie” moment; this is your fairytale scenario. The shoe has to drop at some point. You aren’t going to be blindsided when it does.

“Good.” She locks arms with you, holding you close. It’s weird, but not entirely uncomfortable. You want to trust her. Your sense of judgement is clouded, knowing that she can’t really be this nice, but you want her to be like this

She leads you into a clothing store, taking you to the brightly colored section. Rei silently holds a peach colored sweater up to you. She grabs an orange skirt, looking at them both together.

“What do you think of this?” She asks, holding them up together. The sweater is thick, 

assumedly warm. The skirt however, isn’t,. You tell her that.

“That’s what some white stockings are for [y/n].” She laughs lightly, “and please call me Rei. You don’t have to be so formal.”

“Alright... Rei.” Acclimating to her is easy. At the moment, you don’t care what the rest of her family is like, she’s nice and maternal and everything you miss from your own mother.

She grabs multiple sweater and skirt combinations, not grabbing a single pair of pants for you. This store doesn’t sell tee shirts or blouses, sticking to a younger, but put together catalog. You briefly entertain the idea of them being traditionalists, but you don’t mind that. You’ve lived in worse houses than one with conservative ideals.

And besides, the outfits are cute. You hope you can keep them if everything goes south.

“Put these on.” She hands you the clothing, “and I want to see every outfit you try on. I want to see if it looks good.”

The fitting rooms are nicer than any you’ve ever been to. When checking the price of the items she’s handed to you, you can see why. The least expensive thing is a 10,000 yen skirt. It’s plain blue, just like the 1,500 yen one you have on now. It's obviously of higher quality, but guilt pangs in your chest at the thought of her spending so much money on you. This is at least a dozen items in here.

You slip it on, alongside the white sweater, filled with gold stars. You look at yourself in the mirror, before heading out the door. Rei sits in a chair, looking at you.

“You look absolutely adorable.” Rei comments, “We’re keeping it.”

She doesn’t let you put your input in. But she’s paying for it, so you don’t complain.

Five more times, you come out in sweater and skirt combinations. She has nothing but praise for each outfit. It’s refreshing. Your last home was less than pleasant.

Rei leaves you to change back into your uniform. All six outfits are bought and placed into two bags, both on her arm away from you. She wraps her other arm into the crook of your arm.

“Onto the next store we go.”

As you all head to a different floor of the mall, you voice concerns you originally had back in the dressing room, “You know… you don’t have to spend so much money on me.” You tell her, then backtrack, “Not that I’m not grateful! I am really! It’s just that I don’t need stuff this fancy, you know?”

“[Y/N], I am your mother now. It’s my duty to get you clothes and stuff.” She says it with a certainty that is oddly comforting. Everything about her is that way, from her soft, smooth skin to her warm, grey eyes to her bright, white smile. She’s intensely maternal, something that you didn’t realize you wanted anymore, until today, “and we must keep you up to the Todoroki standard. After all, you’re going to be one of us for now on.”

Being one of them. You don’t know of any Todorokis; you’ve never been a huge fan of heroes like some of your peers. But belonging, that’s something you’ve craved since it was ripped away from you. A family—that’s what you’ve always wanted.

“All right.” 

“Chin up, shoulders back.” She tells you, “You’re new life begins tonight.”

===

Rei never let you carry a single bag throughout your trip. She also wouldn’t let you see any of the receipts or let you have a final word on anything you got. But, you got all nice things—all things you like. So, you don’t mind.

“Change into the white dress with the red and pink roses.” She instructs, “And redo your hair. First impressions are important, after all.”

You haven’t met her husband, nor any of her children. But, as the pictures on the wall show, her husband is Endeavor, the number one hero. Usually you’d meet the person fostering you beforehand, but with his affluence, there needed to be no meetings beforehand. 

Following her instructions, you rifle through the bags, finding the dress she wanted you to wear. Slipping out of your old clothes and into the cold, expensive dress is a quick process. Doing your hair to a standard that would make her proud, is not. Eventually you get it right. 

Unlike earlier, you take the time to unbag your stuff. You mimic what Rei did in your closet. Shirts, sweaters and dresses are hung up. Skirts, leggings, and stockings are folded in the dresser. The shoes are placed on the inside of your closet. The few decorations you got are placed so that they don’t move what Rei and her husband already got you. She’s extremely peculiar about order. You won’t break that order.

“[Y/N].” She knocks on the door that doesn’t lock, “What’s taking you so long. Do you need help?”

You open the door for her, “I was just putting everything away, Rei.”

She comes in, looking at the room. She pulls the draws out and reopens the closet door, looking inside them. It’s an inspection, to see if everything is up to code.

Rei pinches your cheek, “ It’s perfect, exactly how I imagined it.”

Perfect. She’s praising your work. The word warms your heart, bringing a smile to your face. You haven’t gotten enough praise in your life, clearly.

“Thank you.”

“Now come on.” She tugs at your wrist, “Enji will be here any moment and I need help plating the table. Usually Fuyumi would do it, but you’ll meet my other children at a later date. Tonight is just about you, me, and Enji.”

“Alright.” Relief settles from your scrunched up soldiers. You only have to meet one new person, not five like you assumed. One person is better than five people—even if he is the #1 Hero. 

You’re led back through the sitting room and into the dining room. It’s nice, well lit. It’s low to the ground and cushioned. You’ve expected this from this house. Every room besides your own is extremely traditional. You expected the whole house to be like this, once you walked through the doors.

“The plates and cups are in the left cabinet, do be careful with them.” Rei points to a side room, at the back of the dining room, “I’ll bring in the cutlery. Enji should be here soon.”

As if on cue, you hear the front door being opened. A low voice calls out, “Rei, darling? [Y/N]?”

You freeze, plates and cups in hand. Something about the number one hero calling out of your name unsettles you. Though, somehow immediately aware of your apprehension, Rei places a cold hand against your back. You can feel it through the dress, which isn’t surprising, considering how thin it is.

“We’re in the dining room, honey.” Rei takes the plates and cups from your hands, placing them down and simultaneously leading you to your seat. You sit, legs together and bent to the side. You sit currently in the seat to the left of the table’s end. 

The number one hero—Rei’s husband—kisses her cheek. He towers over her. She was waiting for him at the entrance. You try not to make any noise; you try not to interrupt them.

She heads to the seat across from you, leaving Endeavor to sit at the head of the table. You aren’t surprised; this family gives of very traditional vibes. He radiates heat to your right, still aflame, showing off his powerful quirk.

The food is already on the table. It’s more than enough for the three people here, possibly more than enough for the six people in the photos—plus yourself. You make your own plate, only getting what you know you’ll eat. You don’t want to take too much, you don’t want to be greedy. 

“Make sure you actually get full, [Y/N].” Rei smiles at you. It’s warm and soft.

“I am, Miss.” You can feel Endeavor staring at you, but you don’t look at him. You shift your head down, looking at the plate in front of you. You don’t grab more; you don’t want to ruin their hospitality with your selfishness.

Rei and Endeavor talk to themselves, mostly about work. They occasionally talk about three other people—Shoto, Fuyumi, and Natsuo. There are four children in the photos on the wall; it’s a family of six. Though, you don’t ask about the unnamed child, it isn’t your place to do so.

You finish your food fairly quickly, but so do the other two. You look up at Endeavor for the first time tonight, asking, “Can I be excused, sir.”

“No.” He replies, “We have things to discuss.”

“Oh… alright.” You fiddle with the hem of your dress underneath the table, “What do you want to discuss, sir?”

“I’ll take the dirty dishes and excess food.” Rei smiles at you, “You’ll be fine, [Y/N]. Pass me your plate.”

Endeavor waits for Rei to leave to start talking. You are acutely aware of how hot it is now, without Rei’s cooling, calming effect.

“How was your day today?” He starts the conversation off decently well. You look him in the eye, “Good.” You were taught manners growing up; you know how to hold a conversation, no matter how intimidating the person you’re talking to is.

“That is a pretty dress on you, [Y/N].”

“Thank you.”

“Now then. While you are here, there shall be rules you will follow. Rei and I have devised a fair list and she’ll go over them with you extensively in the morning.” He tells you, “Though, the ones concerning you tonight are: no technology post-dinner and that you shall be in bed by ten o’clock. Rei shall wake you up at seven am tomorrow.”

“Alright.” Those aren’t too harsh rules; other homes have had worst lists. Though, you won’t make a final decision on that until tomorrow. You tentatively ask another question, “Uhhh, sir. Rei mentioned other children. If you don’t mind me asking, where are they?”

“Shoto goes to U.A. They have dorms now and are forced to stay there. Fuyumi and Natsuo have since moved out, but visit occasionally. You’ll meet them when it is appropriate.” Endeavor tells you, “And [Y/N], call me Enji. You are now dismissed.” 

“Alright, Enji.” As you stand to leave, you use his name, “Thank you.”

#yandere todoroki clan #yandere todoroki family #yandere mha #yandere bnha #yandere #mha #bnha #platonic yandere #yandere enji todoroki #yandere rei todoroki #enji todoroki #rei todoroki #canon? what canon? #who was going to tell me that my line breaks dont transfer over to tumblr like they do to ao3