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kamiversee · 23 days

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The F*ck List (semi-official) Breakdown.

The following was submitted by my lovely ☃️anon, & I needed to make this it’s own post given how long it is, my replies & clarifications are written in between this breakdown & theory (Ex: A/N > Etc.).

Here, you’ll find majority of details you may have missed & maybe even more to think about. Enjoy :)

(wc; 5.7k) (content; spoilers ofc)

holy shit Kami. i literally had to take the entire day to process everything. before anything else, i need you to know that you've created an absolute masterpiece. TFL was the first fic i ever cared to keep up with and it has set the bar impossibly high for any other writer out there. please take your time with TFL 2, i'm so excited to read your other work!! also a break sounds like it would be so good for your mind considering how long you've dedicated yourself to this story 😭😭😭 you're seriously impressive. heads up, i didn't proofread this at all bc i finished typing this at 4 am LMFAO so forgive me if it's all scrambled and makes no sense.

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A/N > Thank you for taking the time to write this breakdown, I seriously appreciate it so I wanted to take my time in responding to it & engaging with you :)

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now, on to the yap. i deadass cracked my knuckles before typing all this out.

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A/N > You’re so real for tht ngl

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i reread the entirety of TFL from chapter 1 and my brain is so melted from analyzing that i'll prob find more details tomorrow after i sleep on some theories 😭 BUT HOLY FUCK YOU REALLY WEREN'T KIDDING WHEN YOU SAID YOU WERE HINTING AT GOJO'S OBSESSION SINCE LITERALLY THE FIRST CHAPTER??? the fucking hint being that "Gojo's desire for you is so strong it's almost frightening." GIRLLLLLL 🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵

your foreshadowing and referencing is insane. idk if you intended a lot of it, but a lot of it caught my eye.

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A/N> I TOLD YOU GUYS IVE BEEN DOIN IT SINCE THE FIRST CHAPTER !! Okay not exactly but like there was a vibe I had from the first chapter & when I later came up with the twist & went back and saw that everything would connect perfectly ^.^

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chapter 7; the reader and Gojo have lighthearted banter about how the reader "started this" situation.

"I made a mistake." [reader]

"A good one."

"Bad one." You correct.

this was regarding a completely different situation but it baffled me how much it connects to the plot itself; the reader making the "mistake" of leaving her door open, and how it lead to months full of trauma and love. probably completely unintentional, but such a good detail.

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A/N > Very intentional btw, it’s supposed to be known that, in a sense, Gojo x reader is forbidden :)

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Choso's still staring at you intently, "What version of you would someone not like?"

The way he words his question only furthers that little feeling in your chest. It's almost as though he were implying that any and all versions of you would be acceptable in his eyes. - Chapter 16

THE WAY WE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN THAT CHOSO WOULD STICK BY US REGARDLESSSSSSSS AAAAAA WE'RE SO BLIND!!! i just hope this stays true to the sequel :')

"No, I wish you didn't have to hate me." He says, shutting his eyes again and sucking in a deep breath, "B-But... it's uh, It's okay. I can live with you hating me." - Chapter 21

AAAA WE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN!!!! WE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN THIS WAS FORESHADOWING OUR FUTURE WITHOUT GOJO 😭😭😭 how he can live with the idea of the reader hating him so long as she's happy with Choso, especially considering his later revelations of how twisted his actions were and how if you stuck with him, he'd view you differently. fuck.

You despise the fact that he loves you. To you, it's almost entitled for him to feel like he has that right. How dare he hold such a strong emotion for you? If he felt this way, why is he forcing you to sleep with people for him? It makes no sense.

Why would someone claim to love you and put you through so much?

If he's been in love with you all this time, why start the list in the first place? Why couldn't he have just tried to win your heart from the beginning? Why the list? Why the blackmail? You don't understand him. - Chapter 23

i'm crushed. we didn't understand because we didn't know that Sukuna was involved. that could mean a million other things. i have some far-fetched theories about this but hear me out later!!!

the entirety of chapter 23 had me fucking floored while i was rereading. THE FORESHADOWING WAS EVERYWHERE!!! EVERY FUCKING WHERE

"No sweetheart, Sukuna's an asshole but..." His expression flickers and his smile fades away. He swallows and then clears his throat, "I'm pretty sure he'll satisfy you just fine."

...

You narrow your eyes at him, "Are you sure?"

...

"Fuckin' positive," Gojo suddenly sounds pissed and you grow concerned. The arm around you gets a little tighter while he walks you through some crowds and you keep looking at the man confused.

There's a vein popping out along his jawline because of how hard he's gritting his teeth.

of course he's aggravated because he knows that Sukuna is the one behind the list in the first place 😭😭😭 I'M SORRY WE DOUBTED YOU SATORU, FUCKKKK

——FIFTEEN MINUTES. That was the exact amount of time it took you to seduce Sukuna. The act was way too easy. Actually, it was suspiciously easy.

BECAUSE HE FUCKING KNEW 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

"What all did you plan on doing tonight aside from getting harassed by strangers?" Sukuna suddenly questions against your skin.

You ignore how close he is and the way his lips make you tense, turning your head to face forward. Chuckling at his last comment, "Same thing as everyone else here." You reply, slightly confused by his question.

"Bullshit," He utters, "Nobody dresses like this without the intent of gaining my attention," Sukuna claims while his hands slide back down along your body.

this 100% could be just him being cocky and Sukuna, but the recent reveal just makes this feel like an extra demeaning interaction. but of course, it's Sukuna.

chapter 24 is so fucking shady too with everything we know. i know you addressed some of these points already bc i brought them up in previous anon messages, but these things still had me paranoid;

the way Sukuna leaves us and tells the reader to go to his room after a certain amount of time (i know he could have just been tidying up real quick but everything about this man has me on edge)

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A/N> A lot of people are on edge about this but I’ll be honest, there’s nothing crazy that happens in between this time period. Not saying nothing happens but nothing crazy— it’ll be addressed later (in the next fic most likely)

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the way he's been consistently on the phone since the reader entered the room, which is shortly after she messaged Gojo saying that she'll be able to cross Sukuna off of this list by tonight which he wasn't happy with at all.

no seriously, he kept diverting his attention to something in the bathroom and then came out, still on his phone. maybe he's talking to literally anyone else but STILL I'M PARANOID

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A/N> This is to show the fact that Sukuna is a very socially active individual, & hints to the theory (I think you later state) that he has connections.

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this happens in chapter 25 but the way he keeps smiling while the reader kisses him is just so smug of him especially considering the original reason as to why the reader's even interacting with him

then the spicy chapters with Sukuna…

the foreshadowing that the lack of knowledge of Sukuna's reputation will come back to bite her in the ass; first with the knowledge that he is abusive, and then her finding out that he is the curator of the list, knowing the full details of her blackmail and even threatening her again.

WHO DID HE FUCKING FIGHT HELPPPPP MY MIND IS BOGGLING there's no way it's Gojo, right? they're both too unscathed in these next few chapters for there to have been a fight between the two of them.

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A/N > It’s not Gojo. 🙏

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THE FUCKING MOMENT WHERE HE CONTEMPLATED SOMETHING WITH THE PHONE IN HIS HAND??? I FUCKING KNEW IT. I FUCKING CALLED IT WAS SOMETHING SHADY AS HELL.

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A/N> The other Sukuna hint I was talking about is right before this moment btw, you’re welcome ;)

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then he has the audacity to hold his tongue right afterwards?? it's such a big hint towards the fact that he knew about the list from the beginning UGHHHHHHHH.

the way he tried to humor the reader about her "job" even though he was in on the whole thing. UGH. SUKUNA WHEN I GET YOU SUKUNA?? 👊👊👊👊 especially with that "whore" joke right afterwards. i can't stand him. i know that it's implied that he has a twisted view on women from having abusive women in his life (his mom and his ex who he punched) BUT STILL. he's so lucky he's fictional and hot.

the fact that we're able to pick up on the fact that it's a "crazy coincidence" that he continues the whore jokes UGHHHHH HE HAS BEEN PLAYING US FROM THE STAAAAAARTT

Gojo got upset at something from Sukuna's party, he didn't want you to call yourself a whore all of a sudden, Sukuna seems to have believed that was your actual job, and you remember how pissed Gojo seemed as he thought about you sleeping with Sukuna-

Holy fuck. Are the two connected somehow? Is something going on? What does Gojo owe Sukuna? Does Sukuna know you only slept with him as payment to clear Gojo's debt? Is-

GIRL YOU WERE ALMOST THERE!!!! YOU ALMOST HAD IT!!!

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A/N > I love teasing in my narration by nearly spoiling things 😹

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seriously though, these chapters killed me. the official end obliterated my heart. it's so fucking bittersweet i want to scream at the top of a high building. the reader ends up happy and with someone she loves, which is fantastic for her. she deserves that after everything she went through. Choso treats her so, so well.

but Gojo. with the theories i have, i feel horrible. i was so harsh towards him as a die hard Choso girly but these endings changed me. i just hope i'm right.

the fact that his healing journey is harsher than ours makes this ending sting so much. he's healed, and you can see it with his demeanor from the call and the way he interacted with the reader.

we were always made aware of the way he looked at us such deep attachment. the initial gleam shows that he's happy to see us, but that he's not reliant on us for his happiness anymore. he's finding that on his own, and it's a grueling process for him. i wished the reader gave him a hug, but that would probably make me feel even worse.

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A/N> He gave her a lil side hug (with his arm over her shoulder) & was resting his head on hers at the end if that makes you feel any better 😅

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"Through my blackmailing, I fell for you but I also did it because I loved you from the start." i'm gonna throw up bro i'm so sad. i'm proud of his growth. his obsession was so, so strong but he always prioritized the reader's happiness over himself. i know that being self-sacrificial is so core to his personality but it doesn't make it suck any less. i'm devastated. i started blasting mitski in the car on my way to work after reading this.

i thought i was ready for the journal burning. i was so ready for this tie to be severed, for them to finally move on. but i failed to realize that it could ultimately mean a life without each other. it makes sense as to why, but it still sucks.

kami i need that poly ending before i cry my eyes out at 4 am rn. you know i can't handle angst, but bittersweet endings lowkey hurt me even more. i need all my babies to be happy. i desperately need it.

but that alt ending... fuck. in a horrible, sick, and twisted way, i'm relieved. i'm a Choso girly from the bottom of my heart but i can't let this Gojo go omfg. even if he shows up for one more chapter, i think i'll be alright. BUT IT BETTER NOT BE FOR DEATH KAMI!!!! I HAVE A FEW EXCERPTS THAT SUGGEST DEATH FLAGS BUT I AM SIMPLY NOT LOOKING AT THEM. DON'T DO THIS TO ME KAMIIIIIII. i need this boy to be frolicking in a field of flowers or something. my heart can't take this.

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A/N> I know I reference death a lot but that’s just to add a sense of how dramatic the characters are 🫶

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okay, time for my mind-fucky theory. pls bare with me. if it wasn't obvious by my last post, i'm 100% on board with the theory that Sukuna's blackmailing Gojo, which started this whole thing. but the thing that is getting me is how this all connects. i have some assumptions that could make sense, but there are a handful of gaps. here's my thought process;

Sukuna's blackmailing Gojo by using his obsession/love against him.

we are already familiar with the fact that Gojo has liked the reader for years. there was a chapter where Gojo mentioned that it started off as a "crush" but he was so oblivious to his own obsession up until the reader mentioned it to him. it's to the point that he didn't understand what was wrong with the idea of hurting people for the reader. who's to say that Sukuna didn't catch him in some sort of heinous act regarding the reader like stalking?

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A/N > You’re cooking with this one and I almost, almost had to go get the fire extinguisher :D

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Gojo didn't understand the difference between love and obsession until later on in the story. this would be consistent with the implication that Gojo just loved her so deeply that his morals were askew as we have yet to find out how far his love goes.

what if Sukuna caught him in the act of doing god knows what, and brought up the fact that if the reader found out about this, that she'd get super freaked out and would do everything she can to get away from him (considering probably barely knew each other, if at all, at this point). but why would Sukuna devise such a plan over a money bribe? well, Sukuna's already revealed to be wealthy, and maybe he was bored. the same line that Gojo kept repeating to the reader whenever she questioned him as to why he did it. what if Gojo asked Sukuna why he's blackmailing him, and he said the exact same thing; "I was bored." we see how much Sukuna mirrors Gojo's speech by calling the reader "sweetheart" often, what if Gojo did the same thing?

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A/N > Gojo & Sukuna do have a few parallels in this story & they will be addressed more in the sequel.

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we wondered in chapter 23 how Gojo reaches out to these men to ensure their debt is "paid," but considering how oblivious everyone else on the list is to Gojo owing them anything, it would make sense that he only reports to Sukuna as he is ordered to do so. but two things stumped me on this theory overall.

the reader said that she used to party a lot and get involved with boys before Gojo. if he was stalking her for so long, why did he wait so long to approach her?

what specifically would be the blackmail that Sukuna has on Gojo?

regarding the first point, it's been mentioned that Gojo has been "scared of women" and was shy when it came to approaching the reader. he knew of her for so long, but was able to constantly slip under her radar. considering how much of a pervert he is, it wouldn't have been surprising for him to sneak around and watch in on the reader hooking up with other guys. after all, these guys were probably complete strangers to him and all he cared about was you. remember how Gojo was basically able to tune out his own best friend, Suguru, when the reader was hooking up with him in their living room? it wouldn't be wild to assume that he was able to do the same for your other hookups as he spied on you.

to connect this with second point, what if Sukuna caught Gojo being a peeping tom on the reader during a party hook-up? while being so distracted in the act of spying, Sukuna spots him. the reader wouldn't be alright with the fact that someone who's barely an acquaintance (if that, depending on the time this occurred) to her has been perving around and watching her have sex without her consent. she would do anything to get away from Gojo, and of course that would crush him. Gojo tried to buy Sukuna's silence by any means necessary. so, Sukuna generated a list of people that he and Gojo mutually knew for the reader to fuck. the reasoning for it would be the fact that Gojo has to sit through the process of having the girl he likes fuck a bunch of guys besides him, and the fact that Gojo knew all these men would make it sting more. plus, he has a reputation for hookups. (chapter 8)

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A/N > You’re like RIGHT there with it and yet not there at the same time omg 😟

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but why would Gojo agree to this deal with Sukuna, and why would he also go with the method of blackmailing the reader? it's basically a guarantee that the reader would be scared away regardless. but again, we could recall that Shoko mentioned that he was too "scared of women" to approach the reader at first. this was his chance to finally approach her. plus, "once that video is gone, there is no excuse he'll have to be around you." (chapter 8)

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but the more i thought of this reasoning for the two points, the more bizarre it felt. so what if instead of Gojo being a peeping tom, it was Sukuna. we get so many hints that Sukuna has eyes and intel everywhere. we get an indirect implication of this when he called us out for rolling our eyes during our phone call with him. yes, it could be completely by chance, but it's still a great hint that he "sees everything" and "knows everything." we get an even bigger hint towards this in the alt ending when he directly references The F*ck List.

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A/N > Others have taken note of how Sukuna knew she rolled her eyes but trust me, that’s just to show that Sukuna knows the reader’s body language more than he’s let on & paid attention to her a lot during the time they were together.

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it wouldn't be too far fetched to assume that he has some shady videos taken of people without his consent, some possibly acquired through other people (like how Gojo was revealed to have sent Sukuna the video of the reader from the first chapter). what if Gojo caught Sukuna with the video, threatened him to delete it, and Sukuna counterthreatened to have it be sent and posted everywhere. it would be highly ironic, but consistent with the way that Gojo and Sukuna practically mirror each other at times. the reasoning for the list choices would still be the same for this theory, too.

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my citations for these theories ☝️🤓

“You once asked me if I love you because I blackmailed you or if I blackmailed you because I love you and my answer is both,” Gojo confesses as he turns to meet your gaze, “Through my blackmailing, I fell for you but I also did it because I loved you from the start.” - Chapter 56

loved you from the start; his obsession has been consistent from the start (supports Gojo being a peeping tom theory) or he has always had a deep concern for you (supports him wanting to stop Sukuna from spreading blackmail of you instead).

“I’ve sacrificed everything for you, y’know.”

“How? What’s everything that you’ve sacrificed, hm?”

“You. I sacrificed the woman I love to make her happy.” Gojo admits, and of all he’s said thus far, that feels like the truest statement.

“I could’ve been happy with you.” You remind him.

He laughs, “Yeah well, I’m an idiot.”

You scoff, “That’s all you have to say?”

“Yup.” - Chapter 56

is he an idiot for being a peeping pervert instead of just approaching you normally? maybe. how does this make her happy? she ends up finding love through Choso, through the list, through the blackmail.

But deleting the video means ... he has no more leverage over you and can't force you to help him with the hole he's dug for himself. - Chapter 8

the hole being the blackmail set against him by Sukuna.

Gojo's behind you cursing at himself for being unable to tell you the truth.

He's so scared that you'll never help him without the blackmail and, well, he has every right to be because you're pretty sure that if it weren't for those videos he has over your head, you wouldn't be doing any of this. - Chapter 9

the videos he's referencing is the original video from chapter 1 and the fake video he lied about with Suguru, but he can't tell the reader the truth because it's too twisted and risky (supports Gojo peeping tom theory).

He silences himself in thought. There are so many ways he could go about answering such a question but the possibilities of how you may react are endless. Plus, you're drunk and if he's going to admit or explain anything to you, it'll be while you're sober.

"Because..." Gojo's voice gets so quiet that you almost don't catch what he says, "...I don't have any other choice." - Chapter 21

if he didn't go through with his list, Sukuna would have went through with Gojo's blackmail, thus resulting in either you getting as far away from Gojo as soon as possible or Sukuna's video being sent around.

He let something slip abruptly, "W-Wish I c-could tell you everything, sweets..."

Your brows furrow at that.

Are you missing something here? - Chapter 22

YES GIRL!!!! SUKUNA'S BEHIND THE WHOLE LIST, HE'S BEHIND THE BLACKMAIL GIRLYPOP

"Anything," Gojo says, meeting your gaze. He's so serious that it's almost dark the way he looks at you, "I'd do anything for you." - Chapter 29

"I meant it when I said I'd do anything for you."

You follow his motions and then end up right back in his arms, "Right..."

"I'd sacrifice the very thing I love just to see you happy." Gojo claims proudly.

You scoff, "Thought' I was the thing you loved?"

"You are."

His words bewilder you, "Then that makes no sense."

"It won't." Gojo shrugs. - Chapter 29

🧍‍♀️

anything. even if it means putting your body, heart, mind, and career on the line. directly supports the theory that Sukuna initially had blackmail on the reader.

"We're the same, y'know..." He suddenly says, his voice breaking again, "We both want someone so terribly bad but our situations prohibit us from getting that person."

"You could've prevented all this though..."

Gojo sniffles and you feel a drop of wetness slide down his cheek and slip against your palm. The man was crying? Why? - Chapter 30

this whole time we've been told that Gojo and the reader share more similarities than the reader realizes. what Gojo is to the reader, the reader is to Choso. while Choso now knows of the men that the reader slept with, he doesn't know why. he doesn't know about you being blackmailed. you know that you had to sleep with these men. you don't know why. you didn't know it was because of Gojo being blackmailed.

"For loving me, Satoru. It's not a crime," You say, mocking a comment he made to you earlier, "You're allowed to love me. So, for that, and that only, I forgive you."

Those words healed so many more wounds in his heart than you realized. It was like that was all he ever needed to hear. If Gojo's mistake was loving you and that's what caused this, then you forgive him.

If in some twisted way, his feelings started the list, you forgive him.

COME ON NOW.

There’s so much going unspoken but the two of you knew what either was saying, you understood each other more than either of you realized. - Chapter 35

“Well,” Gojo sighs heavily and then draws your hands off his face, leaning down to you a bit, “Sometimes, sacrifices need to be made in exchange for one’s happiness.”

“Are you telling me that all this was for the greater good?” You quiz as you raise a curious brow.

“Something like that, yeah,” He shrugs. - Chapter 45

You tell him, “If I had one wish, it’d be that you did that from the beginning.”

Gojo opens his mouth to say something but then he swallows his words down. He nearly fucked up.

“All you had to do was talk to me,” Your shoulders raise into a shrug as you move a hand to the doorknob, “Things could’ve been different if you did.”

“Even if I’ve been obsessed with you since the beginning?” He questions and he’s stepping closer to you again. He can’t possibly wrap his head around that possibility-

You laugh a bit, “Especially if you were obsessed from the beginning,” You didn’t know it but that statement right there made the man feel as though his world was falling apart, loads of regret tumbling over him as he stares at you with wide eyes, “Satoru I think you forgot but, before all this started, aside from Shoko… I was lonely.”

Gojo’s throat goes dry and he fails to form a response to that, “I…”

“If you had just talked to me one time, and more than a hey or how are you,” The way your eyes soften, a slim sheer gloss of tears coating your gaze as you speak to him, “I would’ve fallen for you.”

He grits his teeth, “Don’t tell me that.”

“But it’s true.” You say.

And just like that, Gojo was crumbling all over again. If only you knew how much he regretted everything after hearing you say that. - Chapter 46

if he had just spoke to the reader before all of this, maybe she wouldn't have gone to those parties, hooked up with those people, and caused whatever kind of blackmail Sukuna had on Gojo (or on her).

He wishes he could take it all back, his feelings for you included. If only he could go back and stop himself from ever being curious about you. That’s what started it after all. Because, at the end of the day, Gojo knew who you were before you knew who he was— hell, even before Shoko knew who you were. - Chapter 53

then what is the timeline of his obsession starting? has it been before Gojo? could his blackmail have taken place even before Shoko introduced you two, adding to the weight of the threat that Sukuna held over Gojo's head (regarding the peeping tom theory).

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A/N > The timeline on Gojo’s interest, not obsession just yet, on the reader will be addressed in the sequel so this’ll be answered there <3

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but there were certain parts that stumped me and my theories so i have some weird reasonings around them;

It's selfish of him and seriously fucked up but, he's said it before and he'll say it over and over again-- you're all he has. He made promises to everyone on that list, promises of delivering a woman to them at some point, and of course, he couldn't convince anyone he knew to do such a thing.

So again, the situation with you just happened to be a coincidence.

The problem is that Gojo hates that it's you. He hates that you're the one he ended up doing this to. - Chapter 8

Gojo's known to be a silly guy so it could make sense that he actually did promise these guys hookups for reasons unrelated to his blackmail. after all, he does have a reputation for getting people hookups. the coincidence is that Sukuna now has dirt on Gojo and wants to toy with him. by making the reader sleep with them the guys he coincidentally owes hookups to, he fulfills his role/reputation and relieves his debt at the same time. two birds, one stone.

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A/N > As we later learn that some of the “debt” Satoru claimed to have isn’t real, we can also infer that his reputation & the promises he’s made to these men were done out of coincidence. Take Toji for example; tell me you can’t see an interaction between him & Gojo where Gojo gets a bad grade and wants to get it up so he taunts his professor with the idea of getting him a hookup & Toji would laugh it off considering Gojo’s reputation ;)

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another thing that stumped me is why Gojo got so worked up with the reader referring herself as a whore, and the connection to Sukuna. my delulu reasoning is that once Sukuna threatened Gojo with blackmail by either of the two theories/methods i mentioned, Sukuna casually referred to the reader as a whore. that caused a major fight between the two, possibly even getting physical (which can refer back to the implication that Gojo has hurt people for the reader).

the fight could have increased the tension and severity of the situation, so Sukuna decides to add Choso to the list knowing how easily attached Choso gets. in chapter 5, the reader and Gojo were discussing the list and Choso specifically. Gojo was even noted to be relieved when the reader had mentioned that they'll just have to hope that Choso doesn't get attached, as he obviously holds deep feelings for the reader. Sukuna knows that by going through with the blackmail with Choso involved, Gojo most likely will not end up with the reader if Choso get attached and the reader reciprocates those feelings.

also, the counterargument that Sukuna and Gojo are actually friends/allies in this situation just doesn't sit well with me. it would make for a crazy twist but it just feels too out of character for Gojo. but then again, how would Sukuna specifically know about The F*ck List? but idk, it just feels so wrong to me. maybe i have too much faith in Gojo lmfao. after all, he has consistently shown a great dislike towards the guy since chapter 23. but maybe it's my denial speaking. i really don't want to think of Satoru going through this whole arc only for it to reveal that he truly is a piece of shit. pls don't do this to my pookie my heart cannot handle it </3

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A/N > Remember, Gojo is a good actor & you go a long period of time in the book not realizing he’s not as much of a villain as he pretends to be 😉

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there's that moment after the reader fucked Sukuna that still messes with my brain. with my theories, my brain's thinking that he contemplated on collecting even more blackmail on the reader. for what reason? idk, to be an ass? to torment Gojo further and add more to his blackmail? but maybe he decided not to because he already has plenty of blackmail on the reader (if the theory of Sukuna having a video of her from way back then is true) and fucking her knowingly made Gojo pissed considering all the dirt Sukuna has.

so why can't Gojo tell her the truth now? why does he want to wait years in advance? maybe he's hoping that by that time, not only will you forget and not care about the situation overall, but maybe Sukuna will forget all about it as well. the chances of Sukuna holding on to the reader's blackmail for that long is slim and the reader would most likely be in a situation where she is completely separated from Sukuna depending on her job and living situation with Choso. the stakes are lower than if he were to reveal everything to you now, at a moment where your life is still so uncertain. it would go against his wish for you to end up happy.

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A/N > Maybe Gojo doesn’t tell her the truth because he can’t, just as he said 🌚 Perhaps he’s not allowed to yet. After all, why would Sukuna even tell the reader he made the list in the end? ^.^ Just some food for thought!

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regarding the future of TFL... fuck, bro. i have no fucking idea. i'm too caught up in the (presumed) past. i'm mourning fr. i love this fic sooooo fucking much. whenever you decide to pick up on the sequel, i will be there. if you choose to publish anything else in the meantime, i will be there. thanks for such a fun and memorable read, Kami. i'm excited to bookbind this soon 🤍🤍🤍 now, i need to watch blue lock to shove these feelings down.

yap fin (for now)

-☃️

A/N > I love you sosoosooooo much for this. These theories are like reading an entirely new fanfic sometimes except, I know all the answers & what’s going to happen next, which only makes me more excited ^.^ Thank you for taking the time to make this, thank you for reading, thank you for supporting, just, THANK YOU.

This right here is exactly what I write for; people like you :)

To the others reading this breakdown & theory, thank ☃️anon because she’s a damn godsend & ilhsm ^.^ (definitely showing favoritism rn, sorry not sorry, ily all I swear)

Edit; Since you’re watching Blue Lock, I can’t wait to bring my Shidou fanfic here because a lot of the drama in TFL has inspo from that fic, which I wrote first ^.^ & I could totally see you enjoying it because not only is it a childhood friends to lovers than enemies & back to lovers troupe BUT it also includes Itoshi Sae x reader which ofc, adds hella drama :))

P.S. It’s two am as I finally post this and omg sorry it took me a while, I wanted to answer other anons first before unpacking this badboy, again, tysm!!

#kamiversee!answers #kamiversee #the f*ck list #tfl!theories #tfl spoiler #tfl #k!ans: ☃️

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herofics · 3 months

Text

A Hangover

A/N: Just more of my good Geto AU stuff (Geto never went rogue, saved Mimiko and Nanako and stayed at Jujutsu High with Gojo and reader, and they started a relationship), these aren’t really in any particular order, and you can find the previous stuff in the “good geto au” tag. Idk what this is, but it was fun to write

“We really shouldn’t have let him drink so much” you said as you and Geto were helping Gojo up the stairs

"You know he’s a lightweight, and he had like two drinks” Geto said with an annoyed tone.

“We should’ve made him stick to mocktails” you groaned as Gojo leaned against you in his drunken state.

"What you two talkin about? I’m fiiiiiineeee” Gojo muttered, trying to stand without support, almost falling on his ass at the top of the stairs

“Alright, you’re almost in bed love” Geto said as Gojo leaned against the doorframe.

“(Naaaameeeeeee), I don’t wanna go to bed, Suguru’s bein a meanie” Gojo complained very loudly.

“Satoru, you have to, you’re way too drunk to do anything else” you said and brushed his hair off his face and kissed him on the cheek.

“You’re comin with me then” he smirked and started dragging you towards the bed.

You let him, since that was probably the only way you could get him to bed. Gojo fell face first onto the bed and curled up on top of the covers, still holding your hand.

“Come to bed with meeeeee” Gojo said with a sing-songy tone.

You sat down on the bed, and Gojo brought your hand to his face and kissed your knuckles.

Geto was just leaning against the door frame and watching the two of you. He had a gentle smile on his face as he looked at you and Gojo. You looked back at him with an amused expression and mouthed the word “lightweight” at him before rolling your eyes. Geto chuckled and motioned towards the stairs indicating that he was going downstairs. You nodded and whispered that you’d be there soon.

Gojo had fallen asleep, but he was still holding onto your hand. You tried to pull your hand away, but he tightened his grip and muttered something akin to “no, mine”. You brushed his hair away from his face again, and pressed a kiss on his forehead.

“Love you, get some rest” you whispered and stood up, leaving the room.

Geto was sitting on the couch, TV on, but the sound was very low.

“I’m never letting him drink again” you groaned as you collapsed next to Geto on the couch.

“Well thank god for mocktails, or we would’ve had to carry him all the way back” Geto shook his head.

“I guess him being lightweight brings some balance to him otherwise being like the most powerful person on earth or something” you joked.

“Yeah, that’s probably the reason” Geto rolled his eyes with a chuckle.

“He’s gonna be so hungover in the morning”

“So am I, I can feel it” Geto sighed, rubbing his right temple.

“We should probably go to sleep too, besides, if he notices there’s no one in the bed with him, Satoru’s gonna try to come down here and crack his head when he falls down the stairs”

“You’re probably right” Geto agreed.

“I’m gonna sleep in my room, you can take care of our drunk little prince”

“Fine”

“Goodnight, Suguru” you yawned and started making your way towards your room.

“Goodnight love” he smiled.

Geto climbed the stairs to the second story, and disappeared into the master bedroom as you closed the door to your room.

Gojo was spread out on the bed like a starfish, so Geto had to push him around a bit to fit on the bed comfortably. Gojo looked quite adorable when he was sleeping so peacefully. Geto and you had to pretty much drag him out to have some fun that night, but in the end he had a good time, and so did you and Geto of course.

Geto laid down next to Gojo and kissed him on the forehead, before closing his eyes and going to sleep.

You woke up in the morning to a delicious smell coming from the kitchen. You put on your slippers and dragged yourself to the kitchen.

“Good morning!” Gojo said as you appeared from behind the corner.

He looked all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, what the hell?

“How are you not hungover?” you asked, completely baffled as to how he was up before you and Geto.

“I’m the strongest, don’t you know? A little hangover won’t keep me down” Gojo grinned.

“But every time we’ve gone drinking before, you’ve been absolutely miserable the next morning, so why not now?”

“It’s a Christmas miracle” he joked.

“It’s not Christmas” you noted sarcastically.

“A Saturday miracle then?” he questioned.

“Sure, let’s go with that” you sighed.

“I think Suguru’s still asleep, but coffee is done already”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll stick to tea. You and Suguru can have the coffee, though you might not need any more caffeine” you noted as you filled the kettle with water and turned it on.

“Coffee sounds good right about now” Geto yawned as he came down the stairs, wearing just a pair of sweatpants, stretching his arms towards the ceiling.

“You hungover?” you asked Geto. “Because our lightweight partner here is just fine” you motioned at Gojo.

“You used RCT” Geto stated, more like a fact than a question.

“I don’t know why I haven’t done it before, it was such an obvious answer” Gojo smirked.

“That’s cheating, you should suffer with the two of us” you complained, motioning at yourself and Geto.

“Well you don’t look very hungover either” Geto said to you.

“I have a pretty nasty headache, but not much more” you said.

“So I’m worse off than both of you combined” Geto groaned, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Come have some breakfast, you’ll feel better after” Gojo said, and set down a cup of coffee on the table.

Geto sat down and took a sip of the coffee, before leaning back against the chair with a deep exhale. Gojo set down a plate in front of him and another one in front of you. His cooking smelled delicious when you had woken up but now the smell of food was just making you nauseous.

“I’m gonna grab us some ibuprofen” you sighed and left the kitchen, trying to hide your desire to throw up.

“Thank you” Geto said.

“I think they’re feeling worse than they say” Gojo noted quietly, not wanting you to hear.

“Probably, you know they don’t like to show it” Geto agreed.

“We’re out of painkillers, so that fucking sucks” you groaned as you returned to the kitchen, slamming the empty ibuprofen bottle on the table.

“You okay?” Gojo asked as you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“Yeah, this headache is just killing me” you sighed. “I’ll be fine though, even without the painkillers”

“You sure? I could go get some painkillers, you two look like you really need them” Gojo motioned at you and Geto.

“Please and thank you” Geto said, more for your sake than his own, because he knew you wouldn’t want to bother Gojo with something like that, at least not just for your own sake.

“I won’t take long” Gojo said and kissed both you and Geto on the cheek, before hurrying to put on his jacket and shoes.

Before you knew it, he was out the door. Gojo was wonderful, even though he could be an idiot sometimes. Geto was much more cool headed, but just as amazing. You loved them both so much, and you knew they felt the same way about you. You could never stop worrying about them though. They were two special grade sorcerers, the strongest there was, but still, every time they stepped out of that door, you were afraid they wouldn’t come back. Maybe it was just the line of work they were in, what you’d been trained for too. You didn’t end up choosing that life but you still saw it. You saw how tired it made them.

“Thanks for always worrying about us” Geto said suddenly, like he could read your mind.

“It kinda comes with this whole relationship thing” you said jokingly.

“I know, but I appreciate it, and I know Satoru does too, even if he forgets to say it” Geto smiled.

“Thanks” you smiled back.

Gojo didn’t take long with his trip to the pharmacy, and him being in the best condition out of the three of you, he wanted to take care of you and Geto. Geto resisted at first, but Gojo wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“You took care of me last night, so let me return the favor you stubborn-!” Gojo argued as he tried to carry Geto to the couch.

“I don’t need you to carry me!” Geto argued back, pushing Gojo away, but he held his grip.

Even though your head still hurt, these two idiots still got a laugh out of you with their bickering. You wished it could be like this forever, just the three of you, happy in your own little bubble.

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grapejuicestyless · 2 months

Text

Orange Juice

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summery: High school sweethearts, the picture perfect pair whose story crumbled as quickly as it started. All because of a reckless boy and his addictive nature and an emotional girl and her growing tiredness.(warning: Mentions of addiction(alcohol).)

“I need you!” He pleads, words broken and grass stuck to his knees as he stands from his spot on the ground where he lay face down, passed out in the front yard of the chateau once again.

He held her hands in his, pulling at her fingers until her knuckles seemed to stretch at his sheer force and determination to keep her put in place, to keep her with him.

“If that was true you would have stopped!” Her voice was shaky, tears burning into her cheeks and her throat constricting with each choked up breath. Still, she couldn’t look at him in the eyes, the same deep blue eyes that held her youth and captured her heart with nothing more than the twinkle of innocence and play.

She knew if she were to look back she would try to keep fighting it, and as much as she longed to always be there to help, it was obvious her help was nothing more than something that delayed his progress. JJ was his father’s son, whether they admitted it or not. No, he never laid a hand on Y/n’s skin, but when he drank his words shot to kill. He carried the same fire in his soul and a pent up rage that seethed through the cracks in his teeth each time he held a solo cup in his palms.

No amount of comfort or persuasion would stop the boy from sending himself six feet in the ground. He had drank them both dry and Y/n hated to admit that she had lost the fight, she had to throw in the towel. He wouldn’t get better until she was gone, and she knew it, even if he refused to admit that he needed to let the harsh slap of reality to beat him senseless for him to find his feet.

“You know it’s not that simple, baby! Please, tell me you know it, I’m trying, I really am. Please.” He cries, lips trembling all ugly as his nose runs and his cheeks become blotchy. He’s a mess, looks it and smells it too.

His boyish smell of sweet cedar and the sandy beaches covered with vanilla are masked with the stench of whatever he pours into his cup and day old cigarette smoke. His blonde hair isn’t messy in the cute way that he wore it when her hands would ruffle through each lock, but because he hasn’t made it to his bed in days, choosing to pass out somewhere from the front lawn to the living room if he ever makes it that far.

“Don’t bullshit me, Jay. You and me both know it, I’ve tried, and I’ve tried and we’ve wasted all that potential to get better and we’ve fought this before. We win the fight, but what about the war? What about me, the bed I sleep in and the pillow that doesn’t even smell like my fiancé anymore because he prefers to be face down passed out in our lawn!” Y/n rips her hand away from JJ’s like it’s poisonous, a bite that stings and slowly works its way into her blood.

Y/n’s not angry at him, her lover, her sweetheart fiancé. No, how could she ever be when even at his worst she can only ever see the good hidden deep inside of his abusive behaviors and dependence on all the wrong things.

“I’ve been waiting for you to come home for so long, so long JJ and you never come back anymore. You’re too far gone to even remember that theres a warm bed waiting for you.” She cries, eyes closing and head falling into the boy’s shoulder as she sobs out sentences aimlessly.

The worst part is that it’s his own fault. His whole life he tried so hard to finally break free of his family’s name, the bitter memories of his abusive father and absent mother leaving him with a motivation to be better than they ever could have been. Yet, here he is half drunk with the same smell stuck on his breath and some half-assed apology ready to spew out at his lover.

“I’ll get better, for you, I will. I’d do anything for you.” She pulls away, looking at him with big doe eyes and a scrunched up nose. He thinks he finally has a chance to change for a second, to fix all his wrongdoings until she shakes her head, looking down at her feet and stepping away from him.

“No, no. Jay, no.” Wiping her cheeks, Y/n seems to finally let go of the innocence that once masked all of his imperfections.

“Your heart has changed, your soul has changed and you aren’t the man I love anymore.” Watching how she fiddles with the ring on her finger breaks his heart, no it absolutely crushes it. Reality is a sour taste to be swallowed down and JJ just can’t seem to get it down now that it’s all right in front of him.

“And I’ll always love you, and if you ever need me I’ll still be here-“

“No, Y/n/n, no.” He tries to follow her, the ring in his palm burning a circle on his skin. A symbol of their eternal love that seemed to redefine what ‘forever’ really meant.

“But I can’t be the one you rely on anymore, it’s not healthy for you.” She tries to reason with him, but he doesn’t want to hear it, he only wants her to hold him again.

“I love you!” JJ tries to make her see it, how his blood only keeps pumping even when he should be dead by now because in his heart he knows he’ll feel her touch against his forehead in the hot summer mornings and her hips against his in the late afternoons that seemed to always slip away far too quickly.

“You’re not your father, Jay.” She reminds him, making JJ stop in his tracks where he debates whether or not to cry or laugh in relief or anger.

“So thats it?” He decides to be angry even if he really isn’t, even if it’s his own fault for driving the girl away. Even if they both recognize that she needs to go away for some time.

“You’re just going to go ahead and carry on? Leave me here alone like I don’t even matter? What, was I pulling you down? Was it just too much?” He spits it like fire at her heart and she tries not to take it too harshly. Y/n knows he gets mean when he’s tipsy, and the empty bottles hidden in the long grass tell her that he’s well beyond that point now.

“I need you to get better.” She begs quietly, looking down as she speed walks down the old dirt roads that lead to a better part of town. She feels naked without the ring adorned on her finger or the weight of her soul hanging over her shoulders.

Y/n swears she can hear his sobs from across town, the broken cries wondering where his lover went in the late afternoon and the even louder ones in the early morning once the fog clears and he comes to terms with his faults.

It’s all in her head, their friends remind her, and they send her photos of him in the mail to tell her how he’s getting better. But the polaroids become further and farther in between, and soon the eyes she swore she never wanted to leave her life became those of a strangers, a stranger who knew everything there was to know about her.

“I haven’t drank in six months, on the dot.” He leans over the kitchen table, indents from his rings and scratches from pen evident in the wood. His hair is just the same as it was when they first met, a blonde mop of waves that sit perfectly around his tanned face. Only now he doesn’t look so tired and he doesn’t smell so sour.

She can only smile at him, letting the crowd fill in around them and filter out through the door as time passes and the moon sets underneath the horizon. She still thinks about how light her finger feels without the handmade ring on her finger, the promise that was within the bent metal weighing more than any diamond any man could ever buy her.

“Can I get you a drink, to celebrate? Theres orange juice in the kitchen, bought it for our friends. It’s yours if you want it, just glad you could visit.” JJ doesn’t know about the piles of photos she keeps of him, the photos that she never had the heart to unpin in her room in the chateau. He’s acutely aware of the fact his friends had been sending the girl updates, he had even asked them to at some points, just so she wouldn’t carry so much worry and guilt as he put on her all those months ago.

“I’ve missed you.” He says it softly, hoping partly that the faint music and the dying chatter from the outside will drown out his confession of love for the girl in front of him, but the sad smile on her face tells him otherwise.

“Feel’s so empty here without you, like I’ve been waiting for you to come home.” He kicks the splintered wood, hands in his pockets and his eyes darting to the orange juice sat warming on the counter like it was placed there just for him. He knew it was, and he knew who did it too.

But Y/n started to cry before JJ could even begin to thank her for all she has done for him, for sacrificing everything just to see him get better.

Shes blubbering something about regretting how she just up and left him like that, how she keeps his memories with her and still wakes up smiling when she thinks of him in her sleep. But more importantly, she cries about how she doesn’t think that she can ever have him again.

Of course, it’s not her fault that she associates his condition with her. Each relapse happened in her company and each stage was only worsened by her staying. She had to leave for him to get better and now to her, it was evident it was for the best.

JJ knows she’s wrong, but how could she? It’s his own fault for what he’s done to her but it’s really not even his fault. Falling dependent on a substance that only ever caused harm was something he started to do for fun, he never intended to become addicted to it, to become mean. They were both just victims in an incredibly cruel situation.

“It’s like you said, Y/n/n, just like you said. My heart has changed, and my soul has changed, and this town has changed, and this world has changed!” He takes her hands in his, showering her his ring and offering a new beginning to their tangled love story.

“But I have not.” It’s so quiet when she says it, JJ almost misses it. She hesitates, flinching away from the ring and refusing to put it back on for the fear that the reoccurring nightmares she had conveniently left out of his condition would come true again.

“The last time you were drunk you were face down, passed out in our lawn.” She looks at him, closing his fingers around the ring and standing from the table.

“Theres orange juice in the kitchen, bought it for you. It’s yours if you want it, I’m just glad you could visit.” She admits softly, slipping past him as calm as she can keep herself, hoping that he can’t hear the way that her heart cracks with each inhale of air.

He whispers something about still loving her, and even though she never says it back, the fact that she’s just admitted to buying the drink specifically for him with the hopes of him showing up gives JJ hope, a hope that he secretly knows will only leave him more devastated in the long run, but one that keeps him going.

He pours himself a glass of the orange juice later that night, the crowd long gone and empty solo cups scattered along the lawn. The ring in his pocket weighs down his cargo shorts pockets and burns through the fabric to his skin, but deep down he knows that he’s changed, he’s been better.

Like she had told him the day it all came crashing down, he is not his father, so he will try and try until he can mend what he broke and the wound is nothing but a scar left behind to show his strength and resilience.

JJ prefers apple juice over orange juice, but as he takes a sip of the tangy liquid, he decides it tastes sweeter than usual, and he really likes orange juice better than any other drink.

#jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank x routledge!reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank fluff #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jjmaybankangst #maybank

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oxittocin · 2 months

Note

I was wondering if you could write

How robin would react to aftercare from a gn reader after first time like a hot bath or a massage just to help her sore body parts if it's not too much to ask of course....

soft (nico robin x reader)

nico robin masterlist

thank you for the request, my friend. here's my take on this - i hope you find it satisfactory. i am just a nico robin simp and i am not a writer by any means so please accept my humble offerings :]

cw: suggestive (mdni!), gn!reader

Love is a funny word that evokes a spectrum of emotions, depending on its adjective. Love can be sweet, secure, overbearing, suffocating, dark, temporal, lasting, kind, chaste, lustful, conflicted, permanent - anything, everything, or nothing at all.

You’ve experienced plenty in this lifetime. Whirlwind romances that make your heart run wild and free, taking risks with a kind of reckless abandon that only youths can afford. Or perhaps even sweet dates under cherry blossom trees and spring, like splitting a banana milkshake and sharing a cone of ice-cream. Maybe you’ve even had a few one-night stands, drunk on the taste of liquor and sin on a faceless stranger’s tongue. One or two committed partnerships, even, months spent mapping out a future, only to see it go down the drain.

You thought you’d seen everything love and life had to offer, until you met her.

How could you even begin to describe her? Words fail you before you could even form a coherent thought. Nothing you say, write or think could ever do her justice.

She, who carries the weight of the world on her shoulders. She, who continues to live on resolutely, in spite of the injustice that life had done unto her. She, whose will to survive seems to only grow stronger, in response to the tragedies life inflicts on her. A woman, whose life is shaped by the roughness of destiny and fate. Still, her softness is what shines through.

Soft smile when she says the spookiest thing. Soft gaze that she reserves mostly for Chopper, but you catch her sneaking a couple at you secretly too. Soft skin that you can’t help noticing, whenever she leans against you, head on your shoulder while she’s buried in yet another book. Soft touches that leave a burning and yearning on your skin whenever she brushes past you, or touches your hand.

It makes you want to love her softly. Tenderly, gently, kindly, lovingly, purely, compassionately.

——————————————

Loving her softly.

Bringing her a warm cup of tea before bed every night without fail. Lazy kisses by the deck as the breeze carries with it an air of serenity. Holding her hand under the dining table, rubbing comforting circles around her knuckles absentmindedly, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

Loving her softly was the only way you knew how to.

She had asked you once if you were afraid of her, and what being with her entailed.

“The World Government, the organisations I betrayed and the mistakes I’d made. The whole weight of my existence. Are you certain you are fine with me?” She asked, slight desperation in her voice begging you to reconsider your choices. Her typically calm demeanor started to crack as she pushed you for an answer. This must mean a lot to her, you thought.

“It’s never been a problem for me.” You responded simply.

“Why?” She asked, unconvinced that you fully understood the gravity of the situation you were getting yourself into.

“You’re so easy to love.” You say with a shrug, “That alone makes everything else easy, too.”

She tilted her head away from you before you could catch a glimpse of her expression. You waited for a response, but her silence tells you that it was a moot point. You contemplated whether it would be a reassuring gesture to slip your hand into hers, but you decided against it. If she needs time, then you’ll gladly wait. An hour, a week, a month or a year, it doesn’t really matter. Wait you shall.

——————————————

Making love, softly, too.

Brushing your thumb against her cheek as your body coaxes pleased moans out of her lips. Delicate kisses, running your mouth along her curves as you paid attention to every inch of her beautiful skin. Fingers that trace up and down her back, tenderly tingling her senses, reminding her of your presence that has since taken over her life. Slow, steady rocking against her hips as her palm grips tightly around your wrists, as if begging you not to leave her after this was over. You take her hand, gently interlocking your fingers with hers - a silent promise that you wouldn’t leave in the morning.

The pinnacle of love is vulnerability. To bare your soul for another to see, shedding layers of clothes, shame, ego to present yourself in total unadulterated being. It’s scary because it transcends lust, into the dangerous realm of intimacy. It’s the same way she always insists on pulling you into a hot bath after the night’s activities. Burying her face in the crook of your neck, small splashes in the water as she attaches herself closer towards you. With her eyes closed, breathing steadily against your chest, she looked so at peace. It must mean a lot for a Devil’s Fruit user to be in a bath, completely unguarded around you. Reaching out gently to knead the knots in her shoulder, you feel a warm glow on your cheeks and you’re not sure if it’s from the skin-to-skin contact or the steam from the bath. She sighed, breath tickling your neck as she lets out a pleased groan.

“You always insist on taking a bath together after.” You remarked.

“I do.” She responded simply, slightest hint of a grin gracing her features.

“It’s intimate.” You pointed out.

She nodded, planting a tender kiss on your forehead.

The intimacy made you feel alive. Human, even - scared, confused, loved, anxious, grateful - all at the same time. You wonder if it’s the same way for her, but you never dared to speak your thoughts into existence. In case, just in case, she doesn’t feel it like you do.

There is nothing inherently remarkable about being naked or sleeping with someone else. After all, sex can happen between two strangers without even a thread of attachment.

This, though, is nothing ordinary.

You feel it in your gut. The butterflies in your stomach tell you so.

——————————————

With love, comes expectations. Love is ultimately a commitment and there are duties that one cannot run away from. In this case, blow drying her hair after a hot bath.

To be fair, she could probably have it managed herself with a simple flick of her wrists - summoning one arm to get the hairdryer, another to comb through her hair, another to get the towel - you get the gist. She insists you do it for her, and you pretend to complain, scoffing and telling her she’s lucky she��s cute enough to make demands from you. Secretly, it’s one of your favorite parts of the night.

Fingers running through her hair as you meticulously held the hairdryer a safe distance away from her scalp, careful not to accidentally burn her. She sits still and upright, patiently letting you work your magic on her. You lightly drag your fingernails against her scalp and the back of her neck. You feel her body jerk slightly, shiver running down her spine. You bit your tongue to stifle a chuckle, thinking about how cute it was that she’s so sensitive. The scent of her floral shampoo overwhelms the room. Lavender, you think.

It is the small moments like these that make you so painfully aware of how insignificant everything was.

The storms that rage beyond the Thousand Sunny, the seas teeming with unthinkable lifeforms, the skies that hold islands so vast. So tiny and unimportant are our lives in the grand scheme of things.

Still, in the limited time that you have to exist, there is no where else you’d rather be than here with her, hairdryer in your hand.

#nico robin #nico robin x reader #one piece x reader #nico robin x y/n #nico robin x you #one piece robin #one piece #x reader #talking shit

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sacredthefran · 8 months

Text

Cream & Sugar Pt 7 (2/2)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka + Female Reader

Warnings: Sugar Daddy, Nothing to crazy this chapter :) just some fluff 18+ MINORS DNI

Authors Notes: Hi bb’s! It’s finally here! Also if any of you guys are going to DC, MSG and Philly let me know! I want to meet everyone and give them some bracelets I made. As always, let me know what you guys think :) don't worry, part 8 is coming sooner than you know.......

Word Count: 3.4k

“That’s right. I planned us a little date.”

“Haha, so funny. Where are we really going?”

“I told you. I planned a date. Now be quiet and look out the window, entertain yourself.”

You decided to do just that - entertain yourself. You found yourself looking out of the window, aimlessly counting all the trees that you passed, counting all the cars that you two had passed, hell, you were even keeping a tally in your head of each color they were.

“We’re here!” Jake spoke in a cheerful voice while tapping your thigh to get your attention.

“Uh….Jake?” You called out timidly to him, watching as he got out of the car doing a little stretch.

“Yes?”

“You’re fucking with me right?”

“What makes you think that?” Jake peered over his black lens sunglasses, raising an eyebrow at you.

“There’s nothing around us,” you paused to open up your hands - motioning to the empty field that surrounds the black SUV. “Oh wait…I think I can hear a cow mooing in the distance.”

“Ha ha. Smartass. Get out of the car.” You could see a little grin making its way onto Jake’s face as he tried not to laugh at your joke.

“Promise you’re not going to murder me?”

“I promise…well, I want you to enjoy this picnic before I kill you. It’s the least I could do.”

Jake winked at you as he closed the car door, walking over to the trunk of the car, opening it and pulling out a brown whittaker basket.

“You going to join me? Or are you just going to keep staring at me that whole time?”

Closing your mouth and taking a deep breath, you opened up the car door, finding yourself once again, doing whatever Jake wants you too. As you got out of the car you couldn’t help but to admire him in the sunset. The way his hair was laying messily on his shoulders, he couldn’t stop running his fingers through his locks - a nervous habit that he had, the way how the orange glow was radiating around him, making him look more like a God.

Fuck, how is that even possible?

It was almost as if he could feel your eyes on him. He turned his head slightly to you, giving you one of the softest smiles you’ve ever seen grace his features. You knew that you were slowly falling for him, but this? This right here could be your downfall.

“Can you help me with the blanket?” Jake’s voice cracked as he turned his head to face forward again.

No, he can’t be nervous, could he?

Instead of responding, you made your way over to stand directly in front of him, just a couple of inches separating the two of you. Your eyes locked as you knelt down to grab part of the black blanket that was almost touching the ground, noticing how Jake’s breath caught in the back of his throat as you slowly made your way back up - making sure that your face would purposely be by the crotch of his jeans.

“Stop that.”

“Me? I’m not doing anything?” You exclaimed as you brushed your knuckles against his, before stepping away from him completely, letting the length of the blanket separate the two of you.

“You know what you’re doing. Stop trying to wake him up.”

“Him? Don’t tell me you’re the type of guy who names his dick.”

“So what if I am?”

“What’s it called? Anaconda? Your sword? Mini Me?”

“Shut up. Lay the blanket down.” Jake mumbled - avoiding your eye contact as he lowered the fabric to the ground and sunk down to his knees.

“Shut up. Lay the blanket down.” You parroted back, watching in amusement as his cheeks flushed a light pink.

“Quit that.”

Rolling your eyes, you followed his actions of sitting on the blanket, putting a couple of inches in between you two. Everytime Jake would lift something out of the basket, you would grab it out of his hand , trying to ignore the little fire that would ignite in your stomach everytime your fingers would brush. Once everything was laid out, you watched as Jake let out a soft sigh and moved himself to the whole other side of the blanket - turning himself so he was staring directly at you.

“What?” Jake asked innocently as he tilted his head.

“The sunset’s that direction.” You let out a soft giggle, raising your hand and pointing directly behind him.

“I know.”

“So? You’re not going to watch it?”

“I’d rather look at you if that’s alright.” Jake shrugged, opening a bottle of water, giving you a tiny little smirk as he brought the bottle to his lips.

You could feel a tiny blush rising across your cheeks and your chest - you absolutely hated it. You already were trying to get accustomed to the fact that you were pretending to be a man’s girlfriend for money - but the last thing you wanted to do was start to develop feelings past platonic with him. It’ll complicate things. You can’t even count how many times you have had to tell yourself that within the past month. Constantly having an internal battle between right and wrong.

“Judging by how red you’re getting, I would say it’s more than alright.”

“Shut up.”

“Shut up.” You shot him a glare in hopes to get him to stop talking.

“Doesn’t feel so good when someone mocks you, does it?” Jake spoke with a little giggle, as he reached forward to grab a grape.

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you.”

“Well you don’t make me laugh, so I gotta make myself do it.”

Your mouth opened in a gasp as you registered what he said, finding yourself blushing even more - a steady heat starting to ignite all over your body.

“Close your mouth. I’m not in the mood to fuck your pretty little mouth right now, I’m trying to be romantic.”

“You? Romantic? Don’t make me laugh.” You rolled your eyes at the long haired man in front of you - you had to at least play hard to get, you didn’t want him to know that you have been swooning on the inside since he chose to face you instead of the orange painted sky.

“Fine, this isn’t a date. It’s just a sugar daddy getting to spend alone time with his sugar baby.”

“Good.”

Damnit. You thought to yourself as Jake broke out into a toothy grin, removing his sunglasses and hanging them off the collar of his shirt.

“Here.” You were snapped out of your little daydream to find Jake holding out a container of Granny Smith Apples with a small round black container sitting on top of it.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, I thought these were your favorite apples.” Jake’s voice almost disappeared as he finished the sentence.

“No. They are my favorite. I just meant what’s in the black container.” You stopped him from pulling back the container by putting a hand on his wrist - holding him delicately in place.

“It’s peanut butter and honey, you said that was your favorite to dip it in, right?”

He remembered, you could feel your heart swelling at the tiny action.

“Yeah, it’s my favorite.”

It grew silent between the two of you as you sat there and picked at all the snacks Jake had packed. Every so often, you two would make eye contact, staring softly at each other until the other would break away and look down at the ground.

“20 Questions?”

“Huh?” Jake lifted his eyes eight from the slices of mozzarella cheese to meet your line of vision, blushing lightly when he noticed you were already looking at him.

“20 questions? You know, the game where you ask the other person questions to get to know them more?”

“I know what it is. I just wasn’t sure if I heard you correctly. Ask away.” Jake rolled his eyes at you in a playful manner.

“You go first. I suggested the game.”

“Okay……are you a virgin?”

“Jacob…” You scolded him in a teasing tone, knowing that of course, he would poke fun at your suggestion.

“Alright, alright. Let me think for a second..” The long haired man trailed off, looking out towards the sunset in a trance, him pushing his tongue into the side of his cheek.

“Favorite color?”

“That’s the question? That’s all you came up with?” You looked over at him, raising your eyebrows, feeling a little shocked that was the only thing he could come up with to ask you.

“Yes, that is my question. I think it’s important that we get to know the little things about each other, before we know each other’s deepest darkest secrets.” Jake leaned forward, squinting his eyes at you speaking as if he was stating facts.

“Why do you think that’s important?”

“Excuse me? It was my turn to ask the question, not yours. Don’t be rude.” Jake sucked his teeth at you.

“Maroon. Now answer my question.”

“You don’t care to know mine?” Jake let out a short breath, placing a hand over his heart like he was wounded by your words.

“Jake, I would love, if you would do the honor of letting me know your favorite color.”

“You sure know how to capture my heart, don’t you? Emerald green.”

“Green?”

“That’s what I just said, isn’t it?”

“Is that why you were so adamant on me wearing a green dress the night we met?”

“No…well kind of. Deandra sent me a photo of you, and I knew since the moment I saw you that you would look good in green. Nothing wrong with wanting to see a beautiful lady in my favorite color.”

You couldn’t find the words to say, feeling dumb founded at this exact moment. Your insides were practically turning as you processed everything Jake was saying, maybe he was trying to be serious about the romance.

“Don’t get all shy on me now.” Jake smirked, looking over at you, his eyes getting bigger in size as he took in how nervous you looked all of a sudden. “Are you going to ask me a question or are you going to keep looking at the grass? I promise it’s not going anywhere.”

“Favorite food?”

“Italian. You?”

“Probably Spanish, there’s nothing better than going to XOCO, sitting on the patio outside, sipping a margarita, and watching the sunrise.” You hummed out to him, reminiscing on all the afternoons you spent at the table in the back of the patio watching the sky turn different colors until nightfall, something about it was so peaceful to you.

“I’ll take you to Mexico one day, you’ll love it.” Jake spoke absentmindedly.

“You’d want to take me on a trip?” You choked out, reaching over to grab the bottle of white wine, he had just removed from the basket. You audibly gulped as you looked at the bottle weighing heavily in your hands - Chateau La Mission Haut Brion - Blanc.

White wine, but the thing is, this just wasn’t an ordinary bottle of white wine - this was the wine that your parents had gifted you when you completed law school. They told you to make sure to save it for a special occasion, and you did just that. The bottle sat firmly on top of the black cabinet in your kitchen. You told Jake this story during a late night conversation, complaining to him about how you were tempted so badly to open it and pour yourself a glass, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so.

“What’s this?”

“Just a random bottle I had lying around my house.”

“Jake.”

“I may have sent Josh out to get it this morning when you were sleeping.”

“How did..” You trailed off, trying to find the correct wording for the sentence, you didn’t want to assume that he remembered this minor detail.

“How many times do I have to tell you that I pay attention to everything that you tell me.” Jake rolled his eyes playfully. “Besides, I’m not a huge fan of white wine, but this one’s good and I figured this is kind of a special occasion.

You weren’t sure how many questions were asked between the two of you - but you were positive that it was more than twenty. The air around the two of you felt different. You tried finding the words to describe it, but you couldn’t. You weren’t sure if it was because the questions turned from getting to know the small things about each other to getting to know big details about each other’s lives. He had asked you about your childhood, wanting to know every little detail about your family and you did the same. If you were lying to yourself you would say that Jake wasn’t letting his guard down around you - but he was.

It scared you more than you wanted it to. Somehow throughout the conversations, you two had all but finished the bottle, giggling at each other from the top of your glasses, holding eye contact for a couple of seconds before one of you would have to look away from the intensity of it. You weren’t sure how late it was, noticing how the sky had lost the orange hue and turned black, with only the light from the moon shining down upon you.

You hated yourself for it but you had one question that kept popping up in your mind relentlessly.

“So can I ask you something?” You looked up at him timidly.

“I thought that’s what we were doing all along.”

“Shut up.” You found yourself chuckling as Jake busted out into a contagious fit of giggles. His cheeks turning rosy from the mixture of alcohol and the laughter.

“Ask away.”

“Did you…did you k-”

“Did I kill Koszak?” Jake turned dead serious as he took the words out of your mouth. You were positive that he could hear you gulping - trying to swallow down your nerves.

“You really think I’m capable of doing that?” Jake shook his head, looking up at the moon, staring at it lost in thought.

“Well, I have been warned about y-”

“So you decide that those rumors are true? Unbelievable.” He scoffed “I know I have a temper and I don’t always know how to control it. Yes, I can be merciless to some people. But, to accuse me of murder? What the fuck? You really think that low of me?”

“Jake….I don’t think you are capable of doing it, but it just scared me. You were pissed off at the whole situation, you had Josh stalking my every move and then you come walking into the bedroom with blood covering you! What am I supposed to think? Please tell me!”

The tones of calm in the air quickly turned into anger as you both sat up on your knees, staring at one another. Neither backing down from each other. If looks could kill.

“That’s when you trust your fucking gut and trust that I’m not that type of person.”

A couple of minutes had passed between the two of you - both of you just continuously staring, trying to think through the thoughts that were bombarding your mind.

“Look, I don’t want to fight with you.” Jake spoke softly, reaching out and grabbing your hand, softly pulling you towards him. “You want the truth?”

You nodded sheepishly at him as you crawled your way over to him. The coldness of the night started to fade away as you were surrounded by the warmth that radiated off of him.

“Yes, I do work for some dangerous people and yes, I am on their defense team. That’s how I made all my money. Yes, I was extremely angry with you when you went against my word and got on that fucking airplane alone with Koszak. I was trying to protect you. I don’t think you understand how dangerous he was.”

He paused briefly to look down at you - taking a deep breath preparing himself for what he was about to say next.

“I don’t know what it is about you…but I feel the need to protect you. Just let me do that y/n. I know I can be controlling but it’s because I’m worried about what could possibly happen to you.”

Fuck. You felt as if he had punched you right in the stomach, making all the air leave your body.

“I was pissed, I was - no I wanted to kill him. But I could never do that. I called some of the people I worked for and cashed in on a couple of favors that they owe me and I did what I had to do to make sure he would never lay his hands on you again.” Jake puffed out his cheeks and slowly blew the air out, trying to calm himself. “Baby, you’ve got to believe me. I would never kill him.”

“But you organized his murder.”

“I don’t want to go into too many details, but the world is better off without him in it.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? I just admitted something major to you and you just go ‘okay’?” Jake brushed a piece of your hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ears as he searched your eyes back and forth, trying to read your mind.

“Okay, I believe you.” You breathed out, not finding it in yourself to break away from Jake’s eyes.

“Thank god.” Jake chuckled, moving his thumb in a soothing motion against your cheek, pulling your face up to meet his and placing a soft kiss against your lips.

You made a move to deepen it, but Jake wasn’t having it - pulling away slowly to rest his forehead against yours.

“I don’t want to fuck tonight. I just want us to enjoy each other and watch the fireworks.”

“Fireworks?” You question him as a loud boom sounded off behind you - streaks of red painting the sky.

“Perfect, just in time.” Jake then sat on the ground, parting his legs and beckoned for you to sit in between them.

You complied, smiling to yourself as you turned your back to him, feeling his arms circle around either side of your waist, pulling you tightly against his chest. You could feel him smiling too when he placed his chin into your shoulder, nudging his cheeks against yours as you watched the colorful display.

“See that one right there?” Jake lifted a finger pointing to the sky, looking at the Weeping Willow.

“Those are my favorite.” You spoke in a meep voice, snuggling yourself further into his soft chest , enjoying the clunking noise his necklaces would make.

“Really? They’re mine too.” He leaned down to whisper into your ear, his nose nuzzling into your hair. You could’ve sworn that he inhaled your scent at that moment.

“My grandparents had a cabin in the woods, it was behind the pond that I told you Josh and I used to fish at. My grandma told my grandfather that weeping willows were her favorite, when she was a little girl she used to dream about having them planted everywhere in her yard - grandpa made it his mission that summer to plant as many as he could around the pond. They would wake up and just look out at the trees as the sun would rise.”

You felt your heart swelling as he spoke. You turned your head to face him and you were met with surprise to see him staring at you already - studying your face in the glow of the fireworks.

“Looks like your grandma and I have something in common, it’s my dream to have a house surrounded by them too.”

“What about one in the front yard with a swing? I’ll push you on it whenever you want.”

“You would plant me a willow?”

“I would plant all the willows you want.”

Taglist : @heykoonsy @dannythedog @joshkiszkatoothgap @milkgemini @gretavanbear @sacredjake@chmpgnnlace @objectsinspvce @poofyloofy @saaoko @twistedmelodies @cal-a-bungaa @writingcold @sarakay-gvf @gretasmokerising @lunaindigoraven @gvfpal @brokenbellsgvf @josh-iamyour-mama @shesawomaninadream @gretavangroupie @kleogvf @jakekiszkasmommy @jakekiszkabf @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface

@whiterosekiszka @laneygvf

#cream & sugar #greta van fleet #jake kiszka #jake gvf #jake kiszka fluff #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka series #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fic #gvf fanfiction #gvf fic #jake kiszka x y/n #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka x you #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #danny wagner #greta van fanfiction #c & s

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laniissocool · 1 year

Text

starboy

pairing(s): jack champion x actress!fem!reader

warnings: none really ? she/her pronouns, fem reader, cursing, mentions of stabbing and scream VI spoilers i think ? also not proof-read and lowercase intended !

a/n: hi everyone !! so this is my first fic and i do plan on doing a second part. i really am more of a reader than i am a writer so please leave criticism in the replies !! also instead of y/n or reader i use just a blank (___) so let me know if i should change that and i dont know whether this is fluff or angst or like in the middle ? i’d say its a normal story but wtvr !! hope you enjoy !

you made your way onto set. you walked with your tote bag thrown over your shoulder, phone in hand as you walked pretty fast without looking up. knowing how clumsy you were, you were surprised you hadn’t bumped into anything yet. or maybe anyone. you got a text and opened as fast as someone could blink as soon as you saw the name.

jackkk💫:

R U Coming to set yet?🎥

you:

omw !! ready 4 me 2 stab u ?🔪🔪🩸

jackkk💫:

As ready as I’ll ever be😵‍💫

you asked jack if he wanted you to show him how to turn on all lowercase, but he refused. he said typing like someone’s dad is cool.

you caught yourself smiling at your phone before turning it off and looking around as you walked.

a few minutes later you made it to your trailer. you walked in and turned on the light, cracking your knuckles then tossing your bag on the small couch you had. you took your phone back out and texted jack.

you:

i’m here in my trailer, come get me ghostface👻👻

seen at 1:14

you thought it was sweet that there was a mutual thing between you and jack where it was completely needed and necessary to end all texts with an emoji, if either of you couldn’t find one you’d have to call or send an audio message.

about an hour later, everyone got their costumes on and ready to film. you were so thankful that the character you played, Elena, gave off the same vibes as you, so, you could dress her yourself. sometimes even with your own clothing. maybe it was your face ? you were very pretty, after all. a kind of rarer pretty, like a magical pretty ? but it definitely was not just your conventional attractive pretty. everyone got on set and you saw jack for the first time that day. you ran up to him and hugged him, your arms wrapped around his waist, in a friendly way. he hugged you back and you pulled away after a few seconds.

“ y’know, i think you’re a pretty good-looking killer “ you said to him with a soft smirk.

you guys always flirted with eachother, not even realizing.

“ why thank you “ he said in a weird accent.

before you started filming the prop guys had to fix some stuff so you guys got a quick break. you walked over to jack’s trailer, which he wasn’t in and sat down eating some gummies you found in your bag. after a few minutes jack comes inside without making noise since the door was cracked open already. he closes the door behind him silently and sits right next to you. he peeked over onto your phone as you played your favorite game. even though it wasn’t really fun to watch, he was insantly interested in anything you were. you didn’t even realize he was there because of how into it you were, besides, he didnt make a sound. you noticed when he reached over to your bag of Haribos to get one. you jumped and almost dropped your phone.

“ shit, jack ! fuck ! you scared the life out of me “ you said with your hand that held your phone up to your heart.

he burst out into a fit of laughter.

“ your- “ he couldn’t even speak without laughing. after about a minute or two of him laughing wiping his tears and you staring at him like he’s insane he finally says something.

“ your face, ____ your face ! you looked at me like i’d just stabbed you ! “ he said, still with a smile from ear to ear on his face.

you looked at him with an unimpressed look on your face, scoffing at him as you bit back a smile.

“ it wasn’t even that funny, idiot “ you said as you ran your tongue across your teeth trying not to smile. he saw right through you.

“ you wanna laugh so badly, don’t you ? ” he said as he looked down at you. you looked up at him, with a soft smile on your face. you laughed a little too as you had to give in. the room went silent and awkward as you’d looked at each others faces for a few seconds. unconciously, you both leaned in. you looked at his lips and your full lips parted a bit. your heart was pounding but you didn’t know that his was too. your lips touched and your hand travels up his chest to the back of his neck, sliding up to grab a handful of his curly hair. you pulled him closer and before you knew it you were turning your head into the kiss. both hands around his neck now as you tugged lightly on his brown locks. then you realized. you really realized. you were close to, but not quite making out with jack champion. he was your starboy. you’d never believed it, even if you told yourself from this morning that you kissed jack champion for a good, 30 seconds, you wouldn’t believe it.

you opened your eyes and they widened, looking back at him. his cheeks a flushed, rosy color. as were yours. you opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out.

you got up and he did as well after you, towering over you. he looked at you with eyes that were saying that he wanted you to say something. anything. you couldn’t. physically, nothing could come out. you had no idea what was going on, you never thought of jack in that way. or, well, in the way that you would kiss him for almost a minute straight kind of way. you walked out practically running to your trailer.

all jack could do was watch, he was frozen and just as, if not even more shocked than you were. as you walked you remembered all the times you were around him. you’d get butterflies. he could be in the same room as you and you’d get butterflies but you’d labeled it as ‘nervousness’ for ‘no reason’. but it’d only ever happen around him. him. then you realized, the non-purpose flirting, the butterflies, the need to be around him. you were inlove with him ! god, how didn’t you notice before. that’s why everyone would look at you too with funny eyes whenever you’d flirt without knowing, thinking it was a friendship thing that only you two did around each other.

everyone probably definitely knew. they knew how you felt before you did. you opened the door to your trailer and locked it. you sat down as thoughts raced through your mind. how would you tell him ? how would you tell jenna and devyn and liana ? did he like it ? did he mean it how you meant it ? was it just a kiss for him ? .. is jack inlove with you too ?

#jack champion #jack champion x reader #jack champion x y/n #jack champion x fem!reader #jack champion x actress!reader

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websterss · 3 months

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝟑/𝟒 — 𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: With the rising questions of whether ghost lock is a permanent form. Your doctor decides to run test on you, much to Lockwood’s like, to analyze your sudden loss of memory and to determine how much you actually do recall.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): mentions of amnesia, death, angst, some fluff if you squint

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 6,773

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader

𝐀/𝐍: Hope you enjoy it! I don't know how to feel about this, you guys let me know alright lmfao this doesn't feel like my best work...

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

“Lockwood!” Lucy marches after him. The poor man before was pitiful. He walked away from the big court area. Never one to allow anyone to see him break. He kept running a hand through his hair, down his face, he was a mess.

A man who has a lot of experience in hiding his emotions suddenly finds he's had enough. Lockwood was furious. He was on the verge of tears, but he wasn't about to cry. He was shaking with anger and frustration. He walked down the long hallways to the elevator.

“Is this some bloody joke?” He breathes out a laugh not finding anything at the moment hilarious.

It was the worst thing that could have happened. The agency was already struggling. Now this. It had to be some sort of prank. He was still on the verge of tears, the thought of his best friend not recognizing him, not even remembering they were friends. It broke him inside out. He punched the elevator button with the bottom of his fist, over and over again. It didn't make the doors open any faster. His knuckles ached from the impact. “She can’t remember…S-She can’t remember anything.” Anthony grabbed at his tie, loosening it more so than usual.

"Lockwood..." Lucy put her hands out trying not to scare him in her approach. Her heart broke for you but more so Lockwood, the impact this weighed on his heavy heart.

He pulled at his tie again, eyes glued to the closed elevator doors that wouldn’t open while telling himself. “She’ll remember, she’ll remember. I know she will. It’ll take some time. People who suffer from amnesia don’t always get their memories back, but there is still a chance.” He spoke to himself but knew Lucy was behind him. He wouldn’t speak to her though. He was too upset, too hurt to give her any sort of response.

“Lockwood.” She tried again.

He turns to face her. His expression is stony, with red-rimmed eyes and tense lips. He was trying hard not to lose control but when he saw her eyes tear up, he couldn’t be angry. All his aggression melted away the second her arms shot out to pull him into a tight embrace and then he sobbed like a broken child.

He let the tears fall. He didn’t care anymore. “S-She can’t remember anything.” He whispered to himself, in a cracked voice, as the elevator doors finally opened. The timing was impeccable. “She doesn’t remember me. She doesn’t know who I am. She doesn’t know any of us.”

Lucy couldn't bear to see him like this. She'd never seen him this emotional. She gently held him in her arms. Her fingers softly traced the outline of his face. She pressed her forehead against his, eyes shut. She wished he would allow her to comfort him. If she could only speak some words of healing. But that's not how trauma worked. She couldn't heal his heart, however much she wished she could. All she could do was hold him and let him cry. She squeezed him tightly.

"I've lost her-" He began but Lucy shook her head.

“You haven’t.” She urged. “She’s still here, still with us. She’s just lost at the moment. But we’re gonna help her find her way back to us. But she’s not gone, we didn’t lose her physically.” She squeezed his hand. She wanted to reassure him. She wanted to calm his mind from the panic and pain.

"I'm not gonna be able to survive this Luce, have to relive the memories she doesn't remember I-"

"Then we make new memories with her. Instead of focusing on the memories that are lost, how about we focus on the ones that are being made? She has a second chance now."

“It’s the old ones I’d prefer that are not all lost…” He looked away from her.

"I-I bet she’ll remember them, and if she doesn't..." She struggled for the right words. She wanted to say what he wanted to hear, but that wouldn't be right, it wouldn’t be entirely true. "Then we can tell her. You can talk about them. They’ll be new to her, but we-" She paused having run out of words of comfort. “We’ve all lost her Lockwood, but we’ll get her back together.” She nodded, placing a reassuring hand against her upper arm.

He knew she was right. He couldn’t forget how distraught all of them were when DEPREC came along and whipped you into the back of an ambulance in a hurry. They all had you to lose, but they now had you to gain. He’d make sure of it.

“I think we should make our way back…” Lucy suggested, but it made Lockwood confused. “I think you might have scared her, you did storm off after all.”

“Oh god…” He closed his eyes. “She’s gonna think I-”

“Have unresolved anger issues?” She poked and teased with a timid smile.

“Hilarious.” He huffed and pushed past her to make his way back to the refectory.

You continue to nibble on the sandwich Lucy brought to you. Silence had fallen over you and George. The shouting dispersed down the hall, but you had yet to feel slightly relaxed. George picked up on your hesitation, seeing you avert your eyes after meeting his own for a split second. He only had a very brief moment to fully grasp the fact he was actually sitting across from you. You were awake and fully functioning much to his surprise. He went through various stages and emotions of grief and disbelief.

When he found you and Lucy together at a table, he had gawked at you, mouth wide open, finger slowly pointing at you in disbelief. He kept trying to form coherent sentences, but all that came out of his mouth was stuttered gibberish nonsense. Lucy gave him one lousy second to accept your return before she began pushing him forward. Ushering him off to retrieve Lockwood and bring him here. Now that he was finally sitting across from you without interruptions. He attempted to make conversation, or at best, just a way to familiarize yourself with him. Reacquaint and introduce himself. Amnesia…he couldn’t begin to fathom what you must be going through.

“I’m George, in case you were wondering.” Your head snapped up to meet his smile.

“Oh yes hi!” You awkwardly let a laugh out. “I heard Lock–Anthony say your name.”

“You remembered. We’ll remember the things you’re told…sorry.” You hadn’t taken offense to his wince though. Instead, you asked.

“I suppose there’s a last name to go with George?” You muster a timid laugh. Your best attempt to lighten the mood. You weren’t fond of the tension in the air. It made you feel out of place.

“Karim.” He tells you. “George Karim.”

“It’s a beautiful name.” You tilt your head. A lopsided grin plastered on your face. George’s eyes narrow slightly, he had a hard time grasping that you were gone, but you're right here in front of him.

“You’ve said that before…” George’s shoulders fall. It wasn’t meant to change the mood of the conversation, more of a nostalgia for memories. He offers a gentle smile, one that brings you warmth. Warmth and trust you can find within a friend.

“I suppose I was one for handing out compliments then?” You breathe out a laugh.

“Not just compliments. It wouldn’t be fun without your jokes. Though you’re particularly known for your insults as well.” George smirked seeing your eyes widen.

“Insults? Oh, that doesn’t sound like me. All in good fun I hope?” Your eyes widened in hope.

“All in good fun.” He promises with a nod.

You accept the reassurance. Taking another bite of the sandwich. Chewing on the piece of bread. The awkward wave once again filled the air. You glanced over your shoulder. Hoping to see his face reappear once more. He was rather easy on the eyes, a vision.

George, having picked up on your uneasiness, offered his reassurance. “They’ll be back. It hasn’t been easy for Lockwood. Much less Lucy. Though he’s been taking it far worse than us…as you can imagine already.” He implied towards the burst of anger Anthony unleashed. You look up at him. Your eyes held hope in them. The glisten in them made George want to reach out and hold you. You were holding onto his word. Hating the feeling of being seen so small and vulnerable with how you curled yourself into your tray of lunch. Adding to your sense of unfamiliarity with your new, but rather old friends. You truly felt lost with no direction.

Lucy had chuckled and followed behind Lockwood. Walking back towards where you and George sat. Once back in the refectory, she met eyes with George first and then with yours as your head turned swiftly. Anthony stopped alongside her, shortly allowing the situation to sink in fully, you were awake, you were okay, he hadn’t entirely lost you and you were staring right back at him. Those beautiful eyes he saw turn white were back to their original color. He offered a smile in hopes of easing your worry, it had as the corners of your lips reciprocated his own. God, you were a breath of fresh air. He knew one thing though, that they had to get some answers.

When you reached the third floor, you weren’t quite sure what to expect. Nurses' eyes stared at you like you were a historical exhibit. A new gallery to gawk and stare at. You were the talk of the hospital. You shrink under their whispers and stares. Lockwood sees you trying to make yourself invisible and failing to do so. It brings you comfort when he calls them out on it.

“Don’t you have patients to attend to? Nothing to see here!” He guides you into the room he didn’t find you in.

As you entered a man with white hair, a tall frame, and black-rimmed glasses stood at the end of your bed. A chart in his hands. A sheet lifted into the air as he read something off the bottom one underneath it. Lockwood cleared his throat, which gathered his attention. When he snapped his head to the door where you all stood in front of. He double-takes. Not expecting to find you standing amongst them…even more so awake.

“Bloody hell…They weren’t kidding.” You wrapped your arms around you as he made a cross on his chest. “Hello, Y/n. I’m Dr. Trainor. You have become quite famous today missy.” He tries to lighten the mood with a laugh, but it only makes you more aware of the attention you’re gaining.

“Famous?” You raise a brow in question. Dr. Trainor chuckled at your confusion, thinking you were messing with him.

“Why yes, it’s not every day one comes out of a ghost-locked state.” Everyone winces, except you, when he says this. Lockwood steps forward pushing you behind him. He didn’t want Dr. Trainor to further confuse you. You already questioned him about what sort of research you did. It was enough to clarify that you did not have any memory of being an agent. Let alone about the epidemic that broke out a few years ago. Hell, you hardly knew who the hell you were, and that scared him. You were more vulnerable now than you had ever been, all because you sacrificed yourself for him. How would he ever repay you for that?

“Dr. Trainor, there's something you need to know.” Lockwood steps forward.

“Yes?” He averts his attention to him now, but you manage to ask the question lingering on your mind.

“What’s ghost locked?”

Everyone turns to you. Dr. Trainor finds the question humorous, but as he turns to look at the others. He finds that no one else is laughing along with him. Anthony meets his eyes, immediately shaking his head with a stoic expression. Dr. Trainor's face falls flat. Then snaps his head to you. Your genuine curiosity and innocent nature were by no means a prank. You were serious.

“Oh…” Dread paints his face. He sighs heavily. “Oh, you poor child.”

“We believe she has amnesia. How much she’s forgotten, we don’t know.”

“Amnesia…” Dr. Trainor breathes out.

“Can you help her?” Lockwood asks with a plea.

“Mr. Lockwood amnesia isn’t something you can just fix.” He laughs lightly. “How much has she forgotten?” He looks to the others, then to you. He guides you to the side of your bed. “Dear, is there anything that you can remember?” You look to your friends, who’ve managed to give you some of yourself back. “I’m Y/n Y/L/N. My favorite color is green?” You look at Lucy, she urges you to continue with a smile. “I’m a…swifter?” You raise your brow with uncertainty.

“Good god.” Anthony curses under his breath. He closes his eyes and runs a hand down his face. He’s so close to ripping strands of hair from his skull.

“She means swiftie. She’s a big fan of the singer.” Lucy steps in to clarify the doctor's vivid confusion. “She’s forgotten everything I’m afraid. Her identity. Being an agent. She’s unfamiliar with everything that has to do with being an agent. No recollection of the epidemic that broke out either.” Lucy inquires. “I found her and she didn’t know who she was, didn’t know who I was.” She gives you a sad smile.

“I see…So everything you’ve recalled to me is information you’ve been told. Okay.” He unravels his stethoscope from his neck. “Any headaches, pain anywhere?” He turns to ask you. You shake your head no.

“I feel fine.” You admit.

“That’s a good sign.”

“It is?” Lockwood questions. The doctor rolls his eyes.

“Yes. It means we don’t have to worry about anything internally happening.”

“Try mentally…” Lockwood mutters under his breath. Yet, Lucy and George give him a deadpan stare, whereas the doctor chooses to ignore his tasteless comment.

“So what does this mean for others that remain in ghost lock? Would you say that ghost lock is no longer terminal?” Lucy held such high hopes. This would mean a great deal for her. It would be a great deal to Norrie, who wouldn’t stay in ghost lock forever. She’d no longer have to be in that psychiatric ward they held her in for surveillance and observation. Dr. Trainor gestured to the knot on your neck, your eyes widened as you reached up to untie it.

“It’s hard to tell so soon, this does happen to be a very unique and uncommon occurrence. We’d have to look into this situation more to be able to determine if ghost lock no longer is terminal, but at the moment this is out of our hands as we have no information to help us fully understand what we’re dealing with.” He moves the stethoscope across your back stopping in various spots. “Deep breath in, exhale out.” You do this about 3 more times. The metal felt cold against your skin. “Breath in.” You inhale deeply. “Breath out for me now.” You exhale. Then continue to breathe as normal. Lucy comes around to help adjust the ties around the back of your neck securely again. Lockwood leans forward, hands gripping the edge of the bed. He tucks in his lips, eyes furrowed deep in thought. The doctor wraps the stethoscope around his neck. Now fetching a light to examine your eyes.

“What of her memories?” Anthony spares you a glance. Watching the doctor have you follow his finger. “Will she get them back?” He looks up to Dr. Trainor.

“Can you follow my finger?” You shift your gaze left then right, then up and down. He leans forward to take a closer look into your eyes, slowly reaching forward to pull at your top eyelid. You feel uneasy when his face contorts into that of curiosity and interest, “Huh?”

This makes Anthony straighten up. “What? Is something wrong?”

“Nothing quite alarming, but have your eyes always had a white ring around them?” Dr. Trainor knows the answer since he’s checked them for the past weeks now, so this was new to come across.

“White ring?” You question. “I wouldn’t know…” You turn to look at your friends for answers. Anthony walks over to you.

“No.” Anthony confirms his question. He steps closer, silently asking if he can peer into them. Your nod of confirmation has him gently bringing his hands up to your face. His thumbs slowly push up your eyelids as the doctor provides the light. When he sees the white rings sitting around your eye shade his heart plummets slightly. “They were never there before. Should we worry?” He turns his attention to the doctor.

“It doesn’t appear to be affecting her sight, or mobility, so until they do become a cause for concern I’m writing it off as nothing to be worried about, but to keep in mind if it starts causing problems.”

“Is she allowed to be released tonight?” Lucy buts in.

Dr. Trainor gives you a once-over, contemplating. “I’d recommend she’d stay another night for observation…but her vitals have been fine. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone wake up with your mobility and strength my dear. No headaches or pain?” He asks you once more.

“No.” You reassure.

“Then I’ll allow you all to take her home, but if you sense any form of change in her health, you bring her to me. Understood?”

“We will.” George says.

“Alright then if there’s no further question, then dear you are free to go. I’ll go ahead and get your discharge paper.” You nod and thank him for everything, then watch him make his way to the door, but Anthony grabs ahold of his upper arm, pulling him to the side.

“And her memories?” Anthony emphasizes his need to know. Dr. Trainor sighs.

“I’d recommend to give it time. Don’t try to rush her to remember things. This is amnesia, not an exam. She doesn’t need to remember everything all at once.” He directs his raised brow at him with a warning not to push you. Lockwood only nods solemnly. The doctor turns his gaze to you and Lucy, laughing about something he wasn’t sure of. George gives them a tight lip smile as he brushes past them into the hall. Lucy helping you find your clothes. Dr. Trainor slowly moves the both of them out of the room and closes the door behind them. He walks them to the far end of the hall away from any possible listeners “I wouldn’t worry too much about her memories…”

“No?” Anthony scoffs.

“This is a very vulnerable situation you are dealing with Mr. Lockwood.” He looks down the hallway. “I’d keep a close eye on her if I were you. News is going to spread quickly about her awakening, and it won’t be pretty. Cherish the moments of peace while you still can. Though that isn’t much of a concern to me.”

“Oh no?”

“Her eyes. I’ve seen it once, in the papers. A child, much younger than she is. Tragic ending.”

“You said it wasn’t a cause for concern!” Anthony whispers and yells.

“I know. I’d still like you to keep an eye on her, if you feel the slightest change in her health…in her demeanor, don’t wait. That child’s parents were reluctant to accept acceptance and it ended with a funeral. Don’t wait.”

“Demeanor?” Anthony straightens up. “What– Why are you telling me this?”

“You never quite know who to trust…and if I were you, I'd also concern myself with how you’re going to explain to her how she can hear and see ghosts.” Lockwood felt a shiver run up and down his spine. He falters for a quick second because he’s right. He does have to concern himself with that, yet as far as he knows you’ll be on house calls for as long as he deems it necessary. He has to concern himself about telling you a lot of things, but for now, he settles with a tight-lipped smile.

“Good day to you, Dr. Trainor.” He pats the man and turns around.

“Expect a check-in house call, Lockwood.”

“We’ll call you!” He finished with a wave of his hand as he walked down the hall, where you wait for him now.

“Ready?” He sighs.

“I think so. Is this all that was on my person?” You look down at your outfit and shoes. Your neck and fingers are decorated with simplistic jewelry, each one you wanted to ask about and what it meant to you, or if any were given to you. Anthony takes notice of the necklace that hasn’t been tucked into your shirt yet. The small A and ring that was your mothers sitting comfortably on top of your black shirt. You then lift the rapier with gauged eyes. “W-What is this?” You eye the weapon with uncertainty. Anthony pulls out of his daze and reacts quickly.

Anthony reaches forward and takes it from your hands. “Don’t know who gave you that!” A light panicked laugh reaches your ears.

“What is it though, is it mine?” Your innocence was killing him. “Are we in a sport? A-A team?” Your eyes brighten with curiosity.

Anthony curls in his eyes, deadpanning to Lucy and George. “Please tell me the cab is here?”

“Fencing! We fence!” You exclaim.

“Oh thank god!” Anthony visibly moans at the sight of a black cab sitting patiently at the entrance.

The whole ride home Anthony couldn’t contain the smile he tried to fight back. His fingers were over his mouth to hide it from the others, but even Lucy found it quite amusing as George practically pointed out various places. It was like your own practical tour, and you represented that of a kid whose mother granted them the pleasure of going to the candy store. You were quite the sight. Though he anticipated your reaction when the cab had stopped in front of their home, your home, the one you had no recollection of. He tracked your quiet exhales as he made the first exist. He stood at the door allowing everyone to leave, then held his hand out for you. You hesitated to take it, yet when your fingertips slid over his palm, well he just about lost his composure.

Your eyes had yet to remove themselves from the door. Anthony’s smile lingered, watching your every move.

“Welcome home.”

“This is home?” You breathe a laugh of disbelief.

“It’s not much but-”

“No…It’s perfect.” Your smile grows as you look over at him. Your attention turns away once more, and you find the plaque. “A.J Lockwood & Co. Investigators…after dark ring the bell and wait below from the line.” You immediately look down at the line that was placed before the stairs. “Why the line?”

“Uh I– S-Safety precaution, we never know who might come around. Better to be safe. Why don’t we head inside? I can give you the grand tour.” He offers, wanting to trail away from your curiosity. In time, he reminds himself. He visibly relaxes knowing you’d be safer inside, knowing the curfew was about to be set in stone soon. Nightfall was emerging.

Your eyes wander after he offers to take your coat. The space bringing you a sense of warmth. The house looked lived in, what a home should represent. You walked further down the entryway, your footing colliding with boots. Anthony swivled around hearing you laugh.

Your laugh, such a contagious melodious sound. Oh, how he missed it. His heart soars. It’s always been something his heart reacts to. He’d thought the worst of the visit, thinking he’d see you in your coma-like state, he never assumed that the day would lead to you being here with them again. In your shared home, awake, laughing at various items that needed to be put away. Your laugh was so innocent, making it all the more precious to him. He didn’t want to look away, but he did anyway. “Let’s start in here.” He gestured to the living area.

"Out of all the rooms in this house, you start with the least interesting one." George's voice rings out as he and Lucy enter the living area too. "I think she'd find the bas-"

Anthony met his gaze, immediately shaking his head no at him. "That's enough, George." He cuts in firmly, but not angrily. He didn't want to scare you. His gaze lingers on George before turning back to you. "Plenty of rooms to go by, but I think one at a time will suffice for now. Wouldn’t want to overwhelm you." He mustered a smile.

“I think one at a time is fine, but I would like to at least know where I’ll be able to sleep.” You laughed halfheartedly.

“Are you tired? I’m sorry I wasn’t considering ho-” You reached forward to stop his rambling.

“I’m not tired, promise. Just curious.”

He was relieved that you weren’t tired, at least not as much as you could be. Your presence alone seemed to have brightened everything in front of them. Things felt as though they’d turn bright side up quickly. He couldn’t have been happier than in this moment. “Well, we shouldn’t waste any more time, the tour awaits. Lucy will be able to show you your room later as you share it with her.” You looked over to Lucy and nodded.

“We share a room?”

“It was originally yours alone, but I came after and we made it work. I promise you I don’t snore.”

“Oh okay.” You laughed.

Anthony chuckled at the thought, finding your amusement contagious, but he knew it wouldn’t take much more than a glance to make him join you in your lightheartedness. He took a breath, steadying himself. There was no need. Your smiles were so infectious it was like there was never anything to feel stressed about in the first place.

“Let’s continue. Now if we go back through this door straight ahead we will find my personal favorite…the kitchen.” Anthony winked at you. “Are you hungry because George just so happens to be a great co-” You all stopped and turned toward the front door as the doorbell went off. Everyone stiffened and held their breaths.

“Who’d show up now…curfew just started.” Lucy questions.

“No one good…” Lockwood keeps you all behind him as he makes his way over.

“There’s a curfew?” Your brows furrowed.

“Well talk about it later Y/n…” He muttered softly to you before he opened the door. “Inspector Barnes?"

“She here?” He looked past his shoulder and stilled when he met your confused gaze.

“We haven’t broken any guidelines…” He tried to keep him from entering, but he saw you. The one thing he didn’t want happening.

“I'm aware, good on you…that’s not why I’m here.” Barnes entered slowly walking over to you with his hands raised. Though Anthony walked over to you and stood before you, in Barnes's path. “Hello again Miss Y/L/N it’s good to see back to your old self again.” Your mouth widened as you turned to look at Anthony, Lucy, and George for answers.

“Y/n, go upstairs,” Anthony orders blocking you from the man who arrived.

“Upstairs? Oh did I do some-”

“No, you didn’t do anything. I just need you to go upstairs for a second please.” Anthony kept staring at Barnes. He shifted his gaze over his shoulder to where you hadn’t moved. “P-Please.” With uneasiness, you finally nod and make your way up the steps slowly, casting a glance back at them. Your gaze not leaving the stranger who entered your home.

“What roo-”

“When you make it to the first landing keep climbing the staircase up, there will be a door, that’s your and Lucy’s room.” He instructed softly.

“O-Okay.” You nodded and kept making your way up the steps.

A few beats passed before he closed his eyes at the shut of the door upstairs. His anger takes over his body once more.

“She doesn’t recognize me…” Barnes's surprise drawing out. He points to the stairs.

“I see your vision works.” Anthony gives him a tightlipped smile.

“Amnesia?”

“What are you doing here? If you wanted to visit a phone call would’ve done nicely.”

“Lockwood-” George could feel the tension begin to disrupt the nostalgia and peace they were swimming in earlier.

“I’m here to ask Y/n a few questions.”

“She’s not taking any visitors at the moment, maybe ever, sorry. Doors over there.” Lockwood gestures behind him.

“DEPRAC would like to get an understanding of her situation–”

“She has barely been home for a few minutes!”

“I understand but if we could get a few words with her or anything out of the three of you then we-”

You had made it to the room Anthony said was yours. You slide down against the closed door, legs sprawled out in front of you, as you try to calm your breathing. The arguing voices downstairs do nothing to provide you comfort. You stare off into the space of the room blankly. Your eyes unfocus and refocus on different objects and trinkets that lay around.

“You can't just come into our home unannounced and-“ You hear Anthony exclaim angrily.

You close your eyes, letting your head thud against the wood. Why was yelling constantly involved when you were the center of a conversation? Were you problematic that it made your friends feud? You craved peace and clarity when in reality chaos and confusion embraced you. You glance down around and spot a small device on a nightstand. You're reminded of Lucy informing you of your love for Taylor Swift and can’t help but wonder if the mp3 player is yours. You get up and go over, slowly retrieving and bringing it to life.

As you scroll and insert the earbuds into your ears. The artist playing in your ears doesn’t satisfy your innermost thoughts. Your pain. The song you’re listening to, the one said to be your favorite, is very upbeat. Hardly the type of vibe you’re looking for. You read off each artist and song title. Every song is unfamiliar to you. Music you don’t recall liking or loving. The trio had done a wonderful job emphasizing that you couldn’t live without the mp3 player you hold in your hands on the way home. The device doesn’t create a sense of security. None of the songs feel melodious or relatable. You're a stranger to your music taste.

Your brows furrow, a frown evident in your saddened features. Your breath shudders as another loud yell echoes faintly through the door. You flinch, hoping that if you close your eyes they will stop, at least for your sake. You can’t take the shouting for much longer though. You glance down and press on a song that catches your eye. Settling on one, instead of nothing was better. You don’t think too much of it, but you're thankful that a soft sad instrumental beat starts to fill your ears. The silence of the bedroom no longer. You let the device slide out of your hand and onto the floor. You don’t hear the clatter, you don’t hear the yelling. You rest your head back against the door again, letting the music drown out every sound, every burst of anger being heard downstairs. You let the music consume you, taking advantage of the comfort it provides because, at this moment, it’s the only real thing that can help you make sense of the world again.

Anthony sets out to check up on you after making Barnes leave and call him back when they think it’s best for you. His heart clenched with each step he took upstairs. He gripped onto the railing, his knuckles turning white, making his way up to your and Lucy’s shared bedroom. He thought of every worst-case scenario as to why you wouldn’t have come back down. Where dread hovered, worry loomed over tons of times worse. It's all he’s been feeling really.

Worry and concern over your well-being. The swelling in his heart was further amplified by having you back at the apartment…one you held no recollection of. Another reason to add to the list of things that would surely keep him awake all night. He only hoped as much as Lucy and George had that you’d gain your memories back. That you would remember the best times and the worst times of your lives together. The laughs you’ve all shared and the way you’ve all let your walls down around each other have allowed to see glimpses of each other's vulnerable sides.

When the raps on the door weren’t acknowledged he stepped in and climbed up to the landing of the room. The room had some life brought back into it as his eyes roamed. Your fairy lights were plugged in once again, as well as your mushroom night light. The shadows of it cast circles onto the ceiling. He teased you about it once, and you went on a rant about how having them light off your ceiling was cute, aesthetically pleasing as you put it. He couldn’t judge your preferences though, not when they brought you comfort. You had looked around a little, he could tell, since things were shifted or moved by you.

His smile vanished as his eyes fell on your form. In hopes that he’d find you okay was wishful thinking. Not when your face was dipped between your arms placed over the top of your knees. You weren’t even aware that he had entered. From the loud echo of music coming from your earbuds, he didn’t doubt that you were blaring the music as loud as it could go. How your eardrums didn’t burst, he hadn’t known. He approached you slowly. Kneeling down and lightly running his hand over your kneecap. He was cautious about not wanting to startle you, but the flinch you gave, and gasp you emitted had him falling on his ass. His heart only broke further seeing the redness from your eyes. Blood vessels form around your irises. Your eyes were puffy. You tried your best to act like you were fine, wiping under your nose as you sniffled, but once your eyes met his. Another tear fell past your waterline.

He was so accustomed to wiping your tears that it became a habit. His arm moved on its own accord before he fully registered that he had slid closer to touch you. He reached up to rid your cheek of the tear stain gently. You showed no signs of discomfort, inviting the lingering caress of his thumb. He smiled faintly feeling- seeing you subconsciously lean into his palm. He rubbed against your skin for a few minutes then let his hand fall back down to his side. He scooted over to one side of you, crisscrossing his legs. He let out a sigh as his back felt the hard cold metal frame. His eyes landed on small objects or loose pieces of clothing thrown around the room.

A coping mechanism he picked up during your absent days from the apartment. Still hospitalized and ghost-locked. It made him want to tear up as he was reminded of the days he longed to see you conscious and sitting beside him. Just as you were now. He inched his pinky to brush against yours. You made no act to shift away, unknowingly to that as you wrapped yours around his, you’d done so many times. Anthony breathed out a shaky laugh as you tightened your pinky around his own. His eyes lifted to yours, finding you already waiting for him to look up at you. He let a tear fall past his cheek as a chorus of deja vu flooded his mind. He was all too familiar with where he sat, in this exact spot.

Funny enough, Anthony found himself in this very spot for weeks. Sat up against the foot of your bed frame. Trying to find comfort in the disarray of your belongings. Hoping to hear your laugh within the vacant chair at your desk, or even a soft cry as his fingers glided over one of your favorite books coated with tear stains. He wanted- hoped to find you here in the mess. Each time he’d turn his head to the right of him, he hoped to find you there next to him, smiling at him, but it always ended the same way. Having his eyes burn holes into the wall he was met with instead of you each night.

Yet even now, as your eyes locked and the corner of your lips curled upward. He believed this all to be a dream. Too scared to look away because he felt once he did, he’d turn back to find you gone. That you’d evaporate into thin air as he’d try to grasp at you. But you were right here, in his reach, in his grasp. Right beside him…you were home again.

“I see you settled yourself in. Find anything you like on it?” He gestured to the device to your right. You take out your right earbud and let it dangle. You lift the device and swirl the circle around to lower the volume.

“No.” You meet his gaze as you chew your bottom lip. Your eyes cast onto his shoes to distract your nerves from building up. “I think it's only left me with more questions about myself, rather than answers.”

Anthony’s heart tears down right in the middle as you remove the other earbud and slowly hand over the mp3 player. He’s left confused not knowing what to make of this.

“As silly as it may sound…It doesn’t feel right to take it, feels as though I’ve stolen it from her- or rather, me?” You shake your head. “My former self?” You look away from his lap. Picking and pulling at loose threads from a sweater you hardly recognize as your own. “The music that she- that I listened to…Nothing feels familiar.” You breathe out shakingly.

“You say it like…like you’re dead.” His chest falls and rises slowly, but it's threatening to increase in pace. “But you’re not, Y/n. You’re still here.”

“What if I am though? The old me you all miss. What if she’s gone for good and you can’t get her back? What if I can’t remember? What if we can’t-“ Anthony reached forward to hold your shoulders as you began to hyperventilate.

“I wouldn’t think so negative just yet. You’ve only just gotten discharged, we’ve barely brought you home… ” He breathes a smile. “The doctor said this could take, and that this isn’t something that should be rushed. Though as much as I do miss our inner jokes.” He beams with a solemn gaze. “I’m willing to wait. However long it takes, even if it means months till- till you come back to us. It’ll be worth the wait.” He unravels your joined pinkies and interlaces his hand with yours instead. You glance down, and a spread of warmth and hope entices you. Yet there’s still that lingering dread and fear casting a shadow.

“And what if…What if I can’t remember anything?” Your eyes tear up. Your mouth is slightly agape as you breathe through your mouth. “What if all the memories we’ve all made don’t come back?”

“Then we’ll recreate them again. Memories as wonderful and as painful as the ones we’ve shared. I’ll make sure you get your life back the way it was before, as we were before, even if that means starting from the beginning.”

“You’d do that for me?” You laugh lightly as tears fall down your cheeks. He reached up and wiped them away. You didn’t even know half of what he was willing to do for you.

“You don’t even know that majority of it.” He gave you a steady nod. You squeezed your eyes, floored with joy and a mixture of sadness combined. You are overwhelmed. You opened your eyes back up expecting to meet Anthony’s charming grin. Yet the loud gasp you released had startled him. You were met with a void of darkness in his place instead.

“Y/n?” Anthony shifts to sit up.

“Did it work?” His heart plummets as the intensity of the white rings in your eyes grows. Almost like they were turning white again.

“Did what work?” His voice darkens.

“It did…She let her guard down, I’ve taken over.”

#anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood imagines #anthony lockwood imagine #anthony lockwood oneshot #anthony lockwood x fem!reader #anthony lockwood x reader #writings by juls #my gif

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ragingbookdragon · 1 year

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She enjoyed Rudy’s silence. He didn’t talk often. Kind of like Ghost, but he smiled more and laughed at her jokes. He also wasn’t terrible to look at, and she’d long since had plans of taking the man to bed at some point, so spending time around him gave her the chance of familiarity with him. Until of course, someone decided to ruin it.

Soap had come skidding to a halt in front of her chair, but she had her eyes closed, feet resting on the table. “Empress, I need your help.”

“Don’t you all?” she murmured, not bothering to open her eyes. “What’d you do?”

“How do you know I did anything?” he asked, tone rather offended and she could just imagine his fists planted on his hips. “I could be dying for all you know and here you think I’ve done something wrong?”

“I know you did something, because I know my chucklefucks,” she replied. “What’d you do?”

“I fucked up.”

“Uh huh, established that one, MacTavish. What’d you do?”

“I may or may have not misplaced Ghost’s favorite knife.”

She pursed her lips, cracking one open. “…How?”

Soap frowned. “I, uh, well, you see, I was toying around with it and then I accidentally dropped it and…”

“And?” she urged.

He reached up and scratched the back of his head. “I dropped it off a cliff.” Empress let out a long and tired sigh and Soap almost hit his knees. “I know, I’m sorry,” he begged. “Please, I’m so sorry, Empress, please help me. Ghost loves you. He can’t stay mad at you.”

“The Empire is running low on favors, but this one time will be considered.” She waved him off. “Begone, you bore me, peasant.”

Soap bent down, took her hand, and kissed her knuckles, once, twice, thrice and flirted, “I love you, Empress.”

“Leave me,” she griped and he hurried off, leaving her with Rudy. “I shall deal with your ignorance later.”

He watched Soap leave before looking at her. “Ghost and Soap really seem to have quite a fondness for you, Empress,” he said and she snorted.

“It’s ‘cause they’re my bitches.” She shrugged. “Kidding, but I am one of the only women they have constant contact with so, you learn to get along. But I don’t take anyone’s shit and I make them work for what they want from me, so my respect has been well earned.”

“How’d you get the nickname ‘Empress’?”

She adjusted her seat, propping her feet in his lap. “Queen was already taken in my squad, so I went with the next best thing.” Her eyes found his. “So far, I’ve brought everything in my path to its knees. Empires, countries, men and women alike.”

Rudy swallowed thickly, nerves very aware of where her ankles were resting on his thigh. “Is that so?”

“Oh, sí que lo es. Todavía tengo que encontrar algo que se me resista.” Empress pulled her feet away and stood from her seat, taking her things from the table before she walked around Rudy’s seat, bending down to murmur in his ear, “Espero que estés cómodo de rodillas, vaquero, porque eres el próximo.”

His head shot up, staring wide-eyed at her as she gave him a wink and wandered off to find Ghost and hopefully appease the man’s anger when he found out his favorite knife was gone—he already knew.

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blithesharem · 5 months

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9 Days of Solomon

Day 1: Stars

Wahoo! I'm so excited to be participating with fic for the 9 Days of Solomon event dreamt up by @impish-ivy !

My first entry is a SFW fic that takes place early on in Nightbringer. I wanted to write Solomon being worried and frantic (in his own way) since he's always so chill and collected. I think a truly angry/worried Solomon would be a very frightening sight indeed...

There is no North Star in the Devildom.

At least, not one that you know. If you were home, you may have been able to sort yourself out, pick a constellation that looked familiar and point your toes toward it. But even though Belphegor and Satan have started to teach you about their constellations, the sky still appears alien to you, like a face you know you should recognize but don’t.

Which means you are still very very lost.

“Explain to me exactly what happened.”

Solomon is smiling but his eyes are cold, and there is a tension in the air that carries a threat not quite spoken aloud. Though he’s standing casually, leaning a hip against the table in the House of Lamentation, his knuckles are white where he grips his lower arms.

There is a stretch of silence when no one answers him, and his smile widens tightly.

“Let’s just all take a deep breath!” Asmo bursts out with forced cheeriness and a sharp clap of his hands, flicking his gaze from Solomon to his brothers and back again.

“Oh, rest assured Asmodeus, I am very calm,” Solomon replies quickly, “I am just a bit curious as to how seven demons managed to lose my apprentice.” Lucifer clears his throat and stands, taking a protective step forward though Solomon’s smile never slips. He’s not afraid of the sorcerer’s wrath, but his brothers are foolish and worried and he doesn’t see the sense in letting one of them provoke Solomon.

“It was a mistake,” he says firmly, “Obviously. Mammon and Satan are already looking and will find them soon, I’m sure. The rest of us will begin searching as well. Diavolo has already been alerted –“

“Oh good!” Solomon says brightly, volume growing as he pushes off from the table and a crackle of electricity makes the room charge with static, “Diavolo has been alerted. Well then, I’m sure all is right as rain. After all, it’s not as though there’s anything at risk here-”

“You know very well I didn’t mean to imply that,” Lucifer snaps, but Solomon ignores him and snaps his gaze back to Belphegor who recoils slightly.

“Since we have all the time in the world, let’s return to my question, shall we?” he hums, leaning forward to force the demon to look at him, “What happened to my apprentice?”

It was supposed to have been just a silly prank.

You sigh, rubbing your hands up your arms and jumping in place in an effort to warm yourself. You seem to have been dropped into an arid landscape, cracked clay stretching as far as your eye can see, with occasional scraggly foliage breaking up the horizon. Despite the desert-like appearance, it’s freezing, and a cool wind has picked up at your back.

It would have been no problem for Lucifer, who’d been the original target of the curse. Because of course he had. The newly formed Anti-Lucifer league had been so confident. And, to be fair, so had you. In general, you’d taken sort of a neutral stance with Satan and Belphie’s antics. Lucifer seemed to almost enjoy the attention, and the boys were clearly bonding over it. You’d tried to dissuade them from anything that might cause physical damage to the house but beyond that let them go pretty wild.

This was the first time doing so had bitten you in the ass.

In the distance, something howled. You give a soft curse, turning to try and decipher how far away it might be. Everyone was always going on and on about how dangerous the Devildom could be for a human, but you never really took it all that seriously until now. Then again, you’d always had your pacts to rely on. Sure, you weren’t completely helpless. You had your own magic. But you didn’t want to push your limits when you didn’t know how long you might be stuck out here. That was part of the reason you’d resisted making a fire to warm yourself. But if the temp kept dropping…

Once more, you turn in a circle, trying to find something, anything that you could use as a landmark to ground yourself. Finally, in the light of the quartered moon, you thought you see a dark ripple of what might have been forest in the distance. If you could find some trees, maybe you could climb one to get a view from above. At the very least, it should give you some shelter from the wind.

Huffing air on your fingers, you begin to walk, choosing a brisk pace to try and warm yourself.

It had been a very long time since Solomon had felt true fear.

What did an immortal have to fear? He’d been able to look after himself for a long time now. Even after he’d met you his confidence in his abilities meant that when things had gotten dicey, he’d known he’d do whatever it took to look after you. Because you’d always been there. The one time you weren’t, he’d even managed to follow you, chasing your footprint through time to make sure he’d always be by your side to protect your fragile mortal life. So now, having you gone, not knowing how much danger you might be in, how badly you might already be hurt…

Well, it was making Solomon feel a bit insane. A part of him that stayed detached could almost observe it calmly: how hard it was for him to follow a thought or form a theory, the racing of his heart, and the tightness in his stomach that was only growing more rotten as the hours without a trace of you stretched on. This detached part was a bit in awe over how human these feelings felt, and how long it had been since he’d suffered them. The insane part was certain he’d slaughter any demon he could get his hands on if anything had happened to you.

He pulled back from his scrying pool, where he’d been searching every location he could think of for you. Rubbing his fists over his strained eyes he let out a deep, frustrated exhale. Beside him, Barbatos remained silent. He knew better than to try to offer words of encouragement or admonishment. Besides, he was equally frustrated. He couldn’t use his sight to find you if he didn’t have a trail to follow, and so far it appeared you were restraining from using your magic.

Neither of them wanted to think about what that might mean.

“Finally…” you groan, skidding down a dry embankment to see you were just yards out from the tree line. It wasn’t exactly the most welcoming of forests, the trees old and dark, all jagged edges and sharp needles. But it was better than the desolation you’d come from, and you eagerly jog the final distance into their shelter.

Despite being sheltered from the wind, it felt almost colder now that you were under cover. The light of the stars couldn’t penetrate, and the darkness was absolute. You slow your pace, trying to get a handle on the fear that began to take root. Your humanity knew this wasn’t a place you belonged.

Walking a bit further, you focus on trying to find a tree with low enough branches for you to climb. Finally, you find one that seems well suited, several snapped limbs offering short footholds that allow you to awkwardly heave yourself up.

The labor from there is long and hard. The bark is sharp, and soon you’ve rubbed the palms of your hands raw. You fear the scent of blood is being caught on the wind, because it seems now that the howls are drawing closer. In your chest your little human heart is pounding, as if it could urge you with its pace to abandon your efforts and flee back into the open. You knew though that you needed this vantage point or you’d be truly lost in the darkness, and there was no way you were going to be wandering deeper into the forest without knowing which direction you were heading in.

Finally, breathing labored and sweat trickling down your spine, you crest the tops of your neighboring trees. Your chosen sentinel was thinning too, but you feel sturdy enough to pause and get your bearings.

One more, the stars greet you, all the more brilliant after adjusting your eyes to the darkness of the woods. You twist, trying to see in all directions. The desert from which you came seemed to stretch forever, and your hopes of finding salvation through the forest were dashed as well, a black and infinite ocean of trees all you could see. To your right, you weren’t sure, but you thought it seemed to get hilly, and to the left…

Possibly? You squint, wondering if you were imagining the distant glow that might indicate a collection of lights. Lights meant people. Or demons. Whatever. It was something. And you were willing to take your chances on a demon that might eat you over whatever that howling thing was that certainly wanted to eat you. Besides, your signal wasn’t for either of them. There was only one whose attention you wanted.

Closing your eyes, you draw your time weakened magic to you, gathering heat in your belly and envisioning your desired spell. Murmuring under your breath, you stretch a palm to the stars. With a rushing release of energy that leaves you almost too weak to keep clinging, a brilliant shock of sparks blasts over your head. It lights up the area in a beacon, shooting into the sky like a firework.

And somewhere, many miles away, a sorcerer begins to laugh with relief.

#9 Days of Solomon #obey me solomon

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edosianorchids901 · 4 months

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Ere the Sun Rises

Ace Omens Hugfest prompt - "a morning hug"

When Crowley snapped awake for the fifth time, gasping and drenched in sweat, he immediately rolled over and grabbed his mobile. He flipped it up, then mashed the home button when the screen decided not to light up.

1:10 am.

“Crowley?” A hand landed on his arm, and he yelped. “Easy, easy. It’s only me. It’s Aziraphale.”

“Hi.” Shivering, Crowley squeezed his eyes shut. He took a few deep breaths, calming himself, and then flopped back to the pillow with his mobile still clutched in one hand. “So. How about that morning, eh?”

“Morning?” The soft sound of a closing book, and Aziraphale moved closer. He slid his hand under Crowley’s, lifting it, and kissed his knuckles. “Is it already? It’s so dark out.”

Crowley held up his mobile without comment. This time, the screen decided to light up.

Aziraphale was silent for a moment. “Um. I don’t think that technically counts as morning, Crowley.”

“It’s after midnight. That makes it morning, by my book.” Hissing, Crowley flung his mobile back to the bedside table and rubbed his eyes. They were crusted with dried tears. “I’ve had it. I’m done. No more sleep for me, at least for now.”

Slowly, Aziraphale laid down beside him and fussed with the blankets. “You do seem to be having an awful lot of nightmares.”

“Could say that.” A few more tears rose, and Crowley quickly rubbed his eyes. He might not remember crying, but he’d apparently already done plenty of it. “It’s nothing huge. Just, y’know. Humans coming after us, demons coming after us, Archangels coming after us, that sort of thing.”

Mostly, though, it was the thing he never talked about if he could help it. All of today’s nightmares involved humans and demons and angels coming after them, and destroying Aziraphale. And then Crowley running around, screaming for his angel, unable to find him.

Aziraphale gave him a worried look, and Crowley quickly looked away. “Um. That sounds rather ‘huge’, in truth, even though I know it’s not exactly abnormal for you.”

That was an understatement. He still had nightmares almost every time he slept, although they were usually loads less horrible than this. Usually, they were just mildly disruptive of his sleep instead of shattering it.

“It’s not terrific,” Crowley finally admitted. “And I’m definitely not going back to sleep. So. What grand adventures shall we have today?”

He tried to say it sarcastically, but his voice cracked. And there were those damn tears again, threatening to break free.

Aziraphale gave a little sympathetic pout. “I think we ought to start with the grand adventure of having a lovely hug. Is that okay?”

“Gosh, yes.” Managing a faint smile, Crowley curled towards him. “S’ always a good way to start the morning.”

This time, Aziraphale didn’t challenge him about the definition of morning. He curled a hand around the back of Crowley’s neck and drew him closer, cradling him to a warm, reassuring chest. “There, now. Everything’s okay.”

Everything very much did not feel okay, even here, but Crowley found himself breathing a little easier. He closed his eyes again, sinking into Aziraphale’s warmth, into the endless field of love that hummed through the cottage at all times. Sometimes, he thought he could stay right here forever.

At the moment, he was tempted to try to stay right here forever. Normally, he didn’t like to be held for too long, feeling trapped. It was different after nightmares. He didn’t pull away, even when Aziraphale’s arms loosened and a kiss brushed to his head.

“My dear?” Aziraphale murmured after a few minutes of him not making a break for it. “Are you okay? Did you fall back asleep?”

“Nuh, not back asleep. Just… comfortable.” Which was a novel feeling, after the panic of thinking he’d lost his angel again. “I love you so damn much. You know that?”

“I do know that.” With a soft hum, Aziraphale nuzzled into his hair. “And I love you dearly, as well. Please tell me if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“Nnnnh.” Even now, after all these years, Crowley hated asking for help. “Maybe… can we just stay here a while longer? I know it’s morning, but the sun’s not up yet. Won’t be up for a while, so I can’t go out to garden or anything.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “You can see in the dark.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think the plants would appreciate being woken up this early. And it’s cold.”

With another chuckle, Aziraphale slid one hand down and rubbed Crowley’s back in slow, careful circles. Then, with the same care, he pulled the blanket back up. “It is indeed a touch nippy. Therefore, I think it would be perfectly acceptable to stay right here until sunrise.”

“Mm.” Crowley wasn’t quite sure if he was that patient. That was hours away, and he wasn’t very good at remaining still for hours. But even a shorter time in Aziraphale’s arms would soothe him and chase away the lingering chill of his dreams. “Definitely a grand morning adventure.”

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #art #ace omens hugfest 2024

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rbtlvr · 8 months

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@intotheelliwoods made me feel things so i am returning the favor (goes with this comic, make sure you read that first)

read on ao3

warnings: super brief unreality, mention of family death

Sprout can’t sleep.

Again.

To be fair, that’s not exactly anything new – especially with the whole… apocalypse thing he hates thinking about. Having to be on guard all the time, ready for anything, just in case, kind of made it difficult to get a good night’s rest.

And even though he’s safe now (is he? Is he really? It doesn’t feel real. Maybe he is asleep and this is – a dream, a nightmare, he doesn’t know), old habits die hard. So. Can’t sleep.

He’s not sure why he does it, really. Maybe to see if there’s been any changes, considering he’s now technically in an entirely new timeline (or bifurcated time branch, as Donnie would say. Would’ve said). Maybe to see if he can even still access it. Maybe to find somewhere he can be alone, not have to see the faces of everyone he’s lost, not have to see his own face after what was, at that point, the worst day of his life. Whatever the reason, he sits up in bed, abandoning his failed attempts to at least get some rest. He crosses his legs. Closes his eyes.

Breathes in.

Then out.

He feels the shift, opens his eyes. Looks around, and –

The first thing he notices is that the white wall that represented the big guy’s place in the mindscape is gone.

The second thing he notices is that it’s been replaced with red.

His heart, only just having calmed down from the day he’s had, jolts into a panicked rhythm again in an instant. A thousand thoughts rush through his mind at once, too quickly for him to pin them down – why is that here why is the white gone does this mean little me is here too it has to it has to be him he’s going through what i did i can’t do this i can’t watch that i can’t go through it again i have to he must be so scared i have to help him –

Before he can process what he’s doing, his fist – the real one – is crashing into the wall, a crack forming beneath the impact. It hurts, but it’s – it’s progress, he realizes. If it’ll get him through to the mini-him, keep the kid safe from the nightmares that plagued Sprout before he made it here – he’ll keep on hitting this wall til his knuckles are bruised and bleeding if that’s what it takes.

And then, in the span of about two seconds, the crack shrinks and disappears. No fanfare, nothing left behind, not even a scratch on the wall. It’s as if Sprout never made a mark to begin with.

And.

That’s –

Something rises in his throat, something that’s been there waiting to claw its way out ever since his little brother – his last family member – ever since Mikey shattered into pieces. It’s raw and agonizing and full of a thousand different emotions he’s been forcing himself to compartmentalize and push down all day. He’s had to, so he can help the younger versions of his family (it hurts so much seeing them again, they’re right here but he’ll never get them back and all he can see when he looks at them is a reminder of what he’s lost), the younger version of him (that’s him that’s him he’s so small so scared sprout has to protect him has to save him but what if he gets it wrong? what if he can’t be the person he himself needed all those years ago? what if he can’t be –), so he can be there for them like the big guy was for him (he’s gone he’s really gone and yes he’s been gone but now the white is gone too, he can’t come back anyway sprout knows that he knows but even if he could there’s nowhere for him to come back to anymore).

He can’t hold it back any longer. The feeling of utter helplessness is just the match that lit the fuse, and now the bomb is going off whether he likes it or not.

Sprout screams.

The sound tears itself from his mouth and he packs into it all the hurtragefearguiltlossgrief that it can hold, rearing back and slamming his fist into the wall again. Like something different will happen this time. Like something different will ever happen. He has to save the kid – he has to – but he can’t, he can’t save anyone – nothing he does is (has been, will be) enough and he screams again at the unfairness of it all.

Once more, the crack vanishes without a trace, and Sprout –

Sprout has never felt more helpless, more alone than he does right now.

He can’t do anything. The mini-him is right there on the other side of this wall, terrified, traumatized, and Sprout wants nothing more than to hug him tight and promise it’ll be okay because he knows it will – never mind that it wasn’t okay for Sprout. That’s why he’s here – to make sure things go differently this time.

(… Can he even do that much?)

The fight drains out of him, and he’s left with an ocean of heartache and helplessness. There’s no life preserver here, no one who needs to lean on him, no one he needs to keep it together for, nothing to justify pushing everything down anymore. On the other hand – there’s no one to keep up appearances for, no one who will judge him for breaking down or ask questions he can’t bring himself to answer.

The decision is made for him in the end, the tears overflowing and pouring down his face despite his attempts to hold them back, and Sprout finally stops trying because what is the point?

And there, utterly alone, small and scared just like that child he desperately wants to protect, Sprout allows himself to grieve.

#rottmnt #2al #2 arms left #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #my fic #anyway enjoy this ell i speedran it after you showed me those panels and have been waiting to post it since then <3 #feeling sososososossosoososossoooo many things abt sprout im normal im normal i promise <- lying #i just think he deserves to be angry. as a treat #also hopefully i did his internal monologue justice af;jlkdjalkf anyway o7

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legendofmorons · 1 year

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Bruised knuckles and whole hearts (Four)

Pairing: Four x reader

Rating: T for blood and creepy men

Summary: You are a BAMF and Four had heart eyes

Warnings: a little blood, a little harassment, you knock a man out because he insulted four

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Four tries to have a good day - or at least an okay day as often as he can. This is often ruined, but he tries.

Today, his plan to have an okay day is ruined by rude and creepy people in the market. Courtesy of alcohol if the way they smell is any indication.

The crowd is just this side of thick as ypu and the boys walk through the market square.

Four is holding your hand happily as you all browse the stalls, the people all background.

You seem right at home- though to be fair this is your hyrule.

"Huh, guess we lost the others," You say, looking around curiously.

"Yeah, I guess so."

You turn to look at him, smiling warmly.

He knows it's sentimental and sappy, Vio is always quick to call them on it... but he likes when you smile at him like that- the smile you only ever seem to have for him.

You smile at others like that sometimes- but it's not quite the same. You smile like mean the world to you.

You smile at him like he is your world.

Which isn't to say you don't have a life outside of him, that would be unhealthy. But you jist- you smile brighter at him.

Or maybe he's just biased.

Also totally possible.

"(Y/n)!" A voice calls from the right, earning a groan from you.

Four looks to you in concern.

You fix a polite smile on your face, "Hello Jim."

"It's been a while." Jim says, looking like the type of man who finds himself very charming.

The way you smile a little sharper betrays your unspoken 'not long enough '.

"It has been. " You say, already sounding uninterested. "Did you need something from me?"

"Just your time. You really are beautiful -"

"I've told you before, Jim. I really am not interested in anything like that."

Four decides in this moment that he might actually resort to violence against a fellow Hylian. This man has obviously done this before.

And you're obviously told him no before. Which means he's being rude and pushing boundaries.

"Aw, come on, (Y/n)." Jim says, leaning forwards so he can set a hand on your cheek.

Oh violence. Violenve for a million reasons. All the colors are raging.

You just grab Jim's wrist with your free hand and push his hand away before dropping the offending limb.

"If you touch me again, I will knock your lights out." You say evenly.

Four has to agree with you on this. He'd punch the man himself- except he knows that'd make a scene.

He squeezes your hand- the one still in his. He wants you to know he's here and supports you.

Jim laughs, reaching for you again.

"Come on, babe, we all know you are just playing hard to get."

He touches your shoulder gently- intimately.

Oh. Okay. He has chosen death.

You growl, letting go of Four's hand so you can ball it up and slam your fist into Jim's nose.

The resounding crack is more than satisfying as he doubles over with a groan.

"You fucking asshole!" Jim snarls out, holding his nose as blood seeps towards his chin. He's looking up from his vent over position and looks enraged.

"They warned you." Four says, not bothering to fight of his smug grin.

You are amazing and Four thinks he has every right to fall more in love with you for this.

You wipe your hands off on your pants as if Jim is little more than an unpleasant tea bag to be thrown away.

Turning away you take Four's hand again.

"C'mon, love." You say gently, always so much calmer with Four than any other.

"You kicked his ass. I doubt he'll bother you again." Four says, smiling up at you with the softest eyes and half-baked plans of your future together

"Shut the fuck up kid, if you weren’t so young I'd kick your ass." Jim says through his bloody nose and pig headed pride.

Four turns to say something back, but is stopped short as you drop his hand and walk back to Jim.

You grab the man by his dark hair, snarling viciously as you sock him in the nose again.

"You will not insult my boyfriend like that."

Jim groans, eyes rolling back. And something in Four swells at how quickly you defend him.

You drop him, and the man falls like a sack of potatoes.

"Holy shit." Four says, unsure if he should be concerned that you were so enraged you knocked a man out after breaking his nose. Or if he should feel the warm emotion in his heart that he does.

"You okay?" You ask, moving back to four.

"Yeah. Just- suprised... I knew you could fight- but that was something new."

"Oh.. yeah. Sorry."

"It's okay. I was probably gonna kick his ass too."

You just smile, wiping the blood off your hand and onto your pants. "Let's go find some lunch, I'm starving. "

"Sounds perfect. "

#lu #linkeduniverse #misty writes #linked universe x reader #lu four #lu four x reader #linked universe four #four x reader

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rottenmemes · 27 days

Text

the front bottoms—various lyrics sentence starters.

some lines adjusted to fit; feel free to change pronouns, proper nouns, etc. as needed

am i getting into heaven? there’s no fucking way.

i would sleep better on your floor than i ever would in my bed.

learn to accept that the things we have now are the best we've had yet.

your friends are here and they miss you, but they’ll eventually move on.

i will always think about you, ‘cause you remind me of who i am.

i’ve tried and i gave everything i had, but i just gave up.

what we have is nowhere near as good as what we should have by now.

it's okay to give up, 'cause nobody here could care less.

time is running out and i need to choose, the clock is moving faster than it used to.

they say face your fears, but i can't stop running.

i'm scared i'm gonna die as lonely as i feel.

it's okay if you're unhappy—just take a look around. there's no one here that's happy either.

the only thing that'd shut me up now is your hands around my throat.

if i tell you all my secrets, would you tell me all your lies?

i have stitched a mask of confidence and i wear it like a glove.

no one's going to listen ‘til you mean every word you say, so if you can't find the feeling, you better learn to lie—and if you know we're gonna fail, then there's little point to try.

i can't get what i need, and you're all i need.

there are certain things you ask of me, but there are certain things i lack.

you say i'm changing—sorry, i didn't know i had to stay the same.

i think you're changing, but don't worry—you don't have to stay the same.

i shouldn't feel like i have to protect you.

at my funeral, don't lie. tell them i didn’t want to die.

i understand that everybody's got their problems, but you seem to have a little more than anybody.

there are things i think we'll come to regret, and the majority of them are dealing with me.

i used to love the taste, i'd do anything for it—now i'd do anything to get the taste out of my mouth.

what about your friends? don't you love them enough to stay?

it probably won't get easier, just easier to hide—prepare for an aching the rest of your life.

i have this dream that i am hitting my dad with a baseball bat, and he is screaming and crying for help—and maybe halfway through it has more to do with me killing him than it ever did protecting myself.

i believe that, yeah, maybe no one's perfect—but i believe that you're pushing your luck.

there's no doubt in my mind that if you could, then you would try to crack my ribcage open and pull my heart right through.

i've been around long enough now to know that the good things never last.

how low is your self esteem? how low could it possibly be?

i know you're in love with me, and i've been ignoring you.

i’m alone only half of the time, and the other half, i’m only hiding.

i got miles to go 'til i ever get home, but the sound of your laugh and your voice on the phone makes me feel like i’m already there.

hey man, i love you, but no fucking way.

make sure you kiss your knuckles before you punch me in the face.

the good thing about this cast is i can still hold a knife, so if you ever twist my arm again, i'll be sure to put up a fight.

the past few months were pretty rough; a couple times i wished we both were dead.

just try to appreciate what you got while you got it, so if it ever goes away, you can say you enjoyed it while it lasted.

i don't regret it—how could i? you were the best i ever had.

i wish i could pretend to be all of the things you think you see in me.

i don’t care if you’re not sorry; i forgive you.

the farther you go from where you start, the harder it is to get back.

just because something burns bright doesn't mean it's gonna burn forever.

don't feel bad for me, because i won't feel bad for you.

when i wake up, i think of you.

it doesn't get worse, and it doesn't get better; you just get old—it lasts forever.

no one saw me the way you did, and no one's seen me that way since.

i know that no news is good news, but that’s always felt backwards.

i’m bound by love, born to obey.

you are the truth i choose to bend myself around.

a long time ago i promised that if you were happy, then i was happy.

don't take it easy on the animal—i am the animal.

sometimes things work out perfectly when there's nothing to lose.

i don't know where i am, but i've been here before.

i'm sorry for your loss, there's not much i can do.

i could see myself dying for you.

we're both trying, you gotta give us that.

why don't you put your boxing gloves on and punch your punching bag, get some of this rage out you have deep inside of you—you’ll feel better, that's the point.

there was resentment built up that was never expressed properly.

you seem to see through whatever it is about me that's trying to be tough.

this is the fear i was born into, it somehow still affects me today.

it may or may not seem like you're leaving me behind, and it may or may not be always on my mind.

i don’t wanna put a curse on myself—i don’t wanna put a curse on you either.

you don't have to try so hard to not see me around.

the more you give, the worse it gets.

i wanna be good to the people that i love—i want them to think of me as someone that they can trust.

i wanna settle down—i want you to settle down with me.

#the front bottoms memes #inbox memes #rp memes #ask memes #roleplay memes #rp starters #sentence starters #roleplay starters #rp prompts #roleplay prompts

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frenziedslashers · 1 year

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Negans reaction to reader being pregnant with his baby? Head canons or a short story are fine!!!

Negan Reaction To A Pregnant S/O:

A/N: I am working on a Negan and Reader having a baby request rn actually, so this will be some Headcanons lmao. I got like 5 anons with baby fever in my ask box rn and I am here to support you all LMAO

Pairing: Negan x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: No specific pronouns used, Negan (He's crazy let's be fr), Mentions of Lucille, Mentions of the other wives, canon typical violence, Negan has Baby FeverTM, Pregnancy, Pet names, let me know if I need to add more!

REQUEST INFO || TWD MASTERLIST

He still has multiple wives when you find out, so you're very hesitant about telling him. He's mentioned to you a lot more personal things than he ever did any of the other women, but you still were uncertain if you were really his favorite. Plus, even though he mentioned that he and his actual wife, Lucille, had wanted a baby. You weren't sure if he still wanted that baby, especially with you.

You try avoiding him for a few weeks, but it doesn't work. He finds you and confronts you about the behavior. He doesn't raise his voice with you once, though. Any of his other spouses he would, but you took a notice that they weren't even his spouses anymore. They were mostly just his servants and leverage against Dwight and some of the other men he took the girls from.

"What's been with you lately? I haven't seen ya around. I didn't do anything, did I?" He'd ask, and you'd feel your heart swell because for some reason you did love him. Even if at first you weren't the only person he was sleeping with.

You'd be scared, and he could tell that something was up so he'd lead you into either your own room or his room - whichever was closer - in order to give you privacy and set you down beside him. "Come on honey, you can talk to me," he'd assure, smiling as he reached up to brush his knuckles over your cheeks.

"I'm pregnant, and it's yours."

He wouldn't react at first. His eyes wide as he stared at you and it'd scare you. You'd be afraid he might kill you and stick you out on that fence to deter his enemies from the compound - but then he finally reacted.

"Mine? My baby... I'm gonna be a dad?" He'd ramble, jolting to his feet as a surge of energy shot through his body. Leaving you sitting on the bed alone as he paced the room in front of you. "We're having a cub?" He'd speak and his voice would crack. Facing you with the biggest and most genuine smile, his eyes brimmed with tears and he raced back over to you. Long strides making his way to in front of you so he could kneel. Being just a little shorter than you on the bed, now.

"How far are you?" He'd ask, and you could practically feel the excitement that radiated off the man, and it gave you hope that your kid might actually get a good father. "Only a few weeks, a month at most the doc said." You spoke, and he reached up to hold the sides of your face. "I hope they have your eyes," He'd tell you, and you'd feel your whole body heat up. Eyes darting to the side with a sheepish smile, but it was quick to fade.

"What's wrong?" He'd asked. "I'm not really that important, though. You have other wives, it could have been one of them carrying your baby." You frowned, and he shook his head. "I stopped sleeping with them a long time ago, honey bunches," he'd tell you, rubbing his thumbs over your cheek bones. "Stopped claiming them, too. They're just kept up here to keep the guys in line." he'd hum, "I only want you, I promise you that. Have I ever lied?" He hadn't. He always told you the truth and you both knew it.

He'd prove it to your further by even making it so the other women dressed in more casual clothing. None of them referred to him as anything other than Negan, and he'd walk you around with his hand on your hip, on the small of your back, or in your hand constantly. He wants to prove to you that you are the only one he thinks about. The only spouse that he wants.

He'd eventually ask you to "marry" him after he figured you trusted him enough to do so. If you say no, he gets it, but if you say yes he's ecstatic. He loves you, truly, and he's glad that you agreed to be with him til death do you part.

When you were far enough along that you couldn't hide the bump in your stomach any longer Negan would call a meeting to the people. Standing above them all with you by his side while everyone kneeled before the two of you. His hand resting on your stomach while he held you close.

"Some of you may already know, but I wanted to make it official. My Honey-bear and I are having a cub of our own here soon." He'd tell them, all while looking at you with so much love and adoration in his eyes that it made your heart soar. "There's about to be a little Negan running around. They're gonna be such a little shit too," He'd announce with such an enthusiastic voice, and you'd chuckle. "Well, let's hope they don't have your complete personality, then." He'd snicker at this, pulling you in for a kiss that he couldn't help but grin like a fool into. Everyone would cheer for you both, because truly. None of them had seen their leader so happy with anyone.

Negan would get more and more protective over you the closer you got to popping. He'd be by your side, making sure you had everything you need. He wouldn't let anyone get too close to you. He was already protective of you, but now was worse. You'd be off limits to everyone except for his previous wives that he knew you trusted. They'd help you when he was gone. They were happy for you, truly. Plus, you practically granted them freedom.

Negan would cry when the baby was born. He secretly hoped it was a little boy, and he'd so thrilled if it was a boy. He'd be bouncing off the walls and trying to convince you to let him name it Negan Jr. but really he'd be fine with about anything you came up with. He wasn't picky.

If it was a little girl though? Oh, that feels so much different for the man. He's holding the girl with practical heart eyes. Smiling as tears roll down his cheeks and he stares at her. "Hi, baby bear," he'd coo, and choke on a sob if they cooed back. He's never letting his little girl out of his sight. He's gonna be the most protective Papa Bear anyone knows. Everyone better pray that he they don't hurt her in anyway.

He'd spoil the shit out of his kid. Ordering his men to get them toys out on their runs. He'd let his kid get away with murder and just smile while cheering them on. They can do no wrong in his eyes.

With Negan being their dad. Expect the kid to be repeating some pretty interesting words as it gets older. "Suck my dick," "You wanna taste your own balls today?" "Fuck" "Shit" you name it. They've got quite the vocabulary as they get older and you're thankful school systems don't exist anymore.

Negan is the type of dad to do everything with his kid and even takes some time away from leading the saviors and puts Simon in charge for a while so he can spend it with you and the baby. He still doesn't let Simon get away with the stupid things he wants to do and still attends the meetings though to makes sure the system doesn't fail.

Everyone adores you and the baby. You two are the new celebrities in the factory, and everyone loves how happy you both make Negan. He swears up and down that he won't ever let anything happen to you or his baby.

"Personally, I think I deserve another baby... Maybe another five more." He'd tell you, and if you didn't say no, he'd be taking that as a yes. He loves kids and wants as many as you'll have for him. Plus, he loves the way you look when you're carrying his child. How your skin seems to glow, how round and soft you are. He wishes cameras still existed so he could have a photo or two of you.

He loves his little family, and even if you only had one kid for him, or if you decided to have one more or a few more. He's happy and content. He never thought he'd have the chance to be a Daddy and he is forever thankful that you not only gave him that opportunity. But also that it's you that he gets to share these moments with.

If you would like to be added to my tag list for TWD stuff, please fill out the form on my pinned post :) It is linked as "TWD Taglist Form"!

#negan twd #negan smith #negan the walking dead #negan x reader #negan #the walking dead #twd

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a-lonely-dunedain · 1 month

Text

(hi sorry yes I'm writing this trope again bc no one can stop me. I need Margim hurt/comfort like I need air ok. she's literally everything 2 me. I'm normal about them. I'm sooo normal about the traumatized berserker lady and her soft healer husband <- *lying*)

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Blades cut, bones crack, orcs and men die screaming.

There is horror in the familiarity of it all, how readily it comes back, the sick feeling in my stomach, the deafening noise, the smell of sulfur and death, little rivers of blood before my feet, dripping from the hands of this monster they call the Executioner of the Pit. There is horror in how, almost, natural it feels to be here. How the life I built for myself in the north now feels so distant now, like a foolish dream, one that I have now awoken from and found myself back in the Pit of Thorzhaf.

At some point, I wake up from that nightmare. It does little to help. Ah, so it’s going to be one of those nights.

I sit up and rub the sleep away from my eyes with shaking hands. I shouldn’t expect to get any more of it now anyway, not when my sleeping mind has seen fit to torment me so every time I close my eyes. The house is mostly black, with only a dim trace of light emanating from the dying embers of the firepit, but I can still see clearly enough that it is my home in Lhan Tarren. I turn to see Celeair sleeping soundly in the bundle of blankets next to me, I’m relieved I did not wake him.

I can hear the rain outside, I try to find it comforting, for there was no rain in Mordor. The sound is usually a boon in quieting those memories, yet I do not think anything will drown them forever. Especially not tonight.

I take deep, steady breaths, like Celeair told me to, but my heart still thrashes in my chest like a caged animal.

I know I am not in Mordor, I know I know I know, I am safe here, but the memory is so strong now, it drowns out all other sensations. I listen to the rain, I still hear screams. I grip the blanket with white knuckles, trying to feel its softness, but I still feel blades beneath my skin. A low rumbling of thunder becomes the uneasy murmurs of Orodruin, for a moment I can taste ash in the air, feel its heat on my skin.

This isn’t working. Unnamed and irrational terror grips my heart once again, and it will not let go so easily.

I consider waking Celeair. He could help. I want to let him hold me again. I need his soft voice and gentle hands to drive away this… this madness.

But my throat tightens and my hands tremble, my eyes burn with uncried tears. An all too familiar fear seizes my heart now. I could not speak without my voice breaking, I feel weak and pathetic. I cannot let him see me like this. I stand up, quickly and quietly as I can, and head outside.

The rain pours down in heavy, loud sheets. The cold water shocks my skin as I walk further out. That’s good. Cold is good. It’s far away from Thorzhaf. I lift my face to the black sky and let the water wash over my face, quenching the burning in my eyes. The rain is loud, everything else seems quiet. Finally. I stand there for a long while, letting the rain be the only thing I feel, hear, and think as it soaks through my hair and clothes. I finally feel like I can breathe again.

I do not know how long it's been, but I guess I should head inside soon, although I am reluctant to leave this cold reprieve, everything I came out here to escape is all too likely to come back then. Maybe I can stay out a little longer.

I thought I heard someone say something, that’s odd-

“Margim…?” Celeair’s voice almost makes me jump, how long has he been out here? I see him standing nearby with his cloak drawn tightly around him, straining his eyes to see me in the darkness.

“Yes, I’m here,” I answer quietly, barely being heard over the rain.

“Are you alright?” A rhetorical question, for he already knows that the answer, if not an outright ‘no’, is most certainly not ‘yes’. I think that normally— and I will fully admit my point of reference for ‘normal’ is shaky at best— most people do not stand out in thunderstorms in the middle of the night when they’re having a good time. Suffice to say, I’m in no position to lie to him. But I hesitate, the worry in his eyes fills me with shame. “I… do not know,” I mutter in response.

He steps forward and gently takes my arm in his hands, “let’s go back inside,” he says softly, “I think this rain will do little good for either of us.” he takes a step back towards the door, and I wordlessly follow him back into the house.

He wastes no time in stoking the firepit and providing it with fresh logs, and soon enough the room is lit up with an inviting orange glow. I stand nearby, half expecting an interrogation as to the reason I was seemingly trying to catch my death of cold, but Celeair asks nothing of me. Instead he just sits down in the small pile of furs near the fire, leaving plenty of room for me beside him.

“Well, you’re not going to get very dry over there” he looks at me expectantly, but I can still detect concern in his voice. Reluctantly I sit down next to him, the heat from the fire feels soothing, and I try not to let it remind me of anything else.

“...I’m sorry,” I murmur, “I did not mean to wake you.”

“You’ve nothing to apologize for,” he says plainly, stretching out his hands to the fire to warm them “Truly, I think being awake is the least of my concerns at the moment.”

“It was only a nightmare, I did not mean to trouble you over it,” I look away from him, ashamed “I just… needed to clear my head.”

“You know, you don’t have to worry about waking me up next time, if you think it could be of any help. I wouldn’t mind.”

“I know… I wanted to but I… I don’t know why I couldn’t," the words come haltingly from me "It’s just… I felt so weak, on the brink of shattering, I couldn’t… I didn’t want you to see me like that.” my brow furrows in frustration, I make it sound like a matter of wounded pride, but that is not what I’m trying to say to him. I am not a prideful woman, I think there is little for me to be proud of. It’s just that Celeair is not a fighter, he knows not how to wield a blade nor has any desire to, so to a large extent he relies on me for protection. I don’t like letting him see me so weak. I want him to feel safe around me, like I can protect him from all harm, but how can he when I cannot even protect myself from myself? When I can be broken by a mere memory? I hate the thought of anyone seeing me in such a state, especially him.

Celeair reaches for my hand and gently holds it, his fingers slotting perfectly between my own. He says nothing, merely offering a simple gesture of comfort as he sits in thoughtful silence.

“In my line of work I see everyone at their lowest,” he says quietly after some thought, “rendered helpless by sickness or injury. I’ve tended to everyone from the common man to the mightiest of warriors, and never thought any less of them for it,” he gives my hand a gentle reassuring squeeze, “because no one is untouchable. You aren’t weak for being hurt.”

“I certainly don’t feel very strong either,” the slight tremble in my voice betrays that fact all too well.

“No one does, not when they’re in this much pain." his thumb gently bushes mine in a soothing motion, "It’s nothing to be ashamed of, especially after everything you’ve lived through.”

I just look on into the fire, not knowing what to say. I know he’s telling the truth, I know he is the last person in the world who would ever think less of me for even a display as pathetic as this, but it still feels pathetic nonetheless.

And, I do not think it’s just that… the thought of allowing myself to be so broken, openly, for someone to see -even someone I trust as much as Celeair- just feels so wrong. Terrifying, actually. Weakness and fear go hand in hand for me, where one is the other follows closely behind. If I am weak I am afraid, weakness meant death in Mordor, and it is an instinct that is not easily unlearned. I know that no harm will come to me here, but my heart never seems to believe it.

“I am not ashamed, I’m just afraid.” I finally croak out, wishing my voice would not so readily betray the fact that I am on the brink of tears. I swallow hard and squeeze my eyes shut, desperately trying to bury the sorrow welling up in my eyes. To my credit, after a few shaky breaths, I manage it.

“Is there anything I might do to help?” he asks.

I pause in thought, I don’t know if there’s anything he can do to make this go away, but… “a hug couldn’t hurt,” I reply sheepishly.

Swiftly but gently Celeair puts his arms around my waist and pulls himself close to me. I instinctively return the hug, wrapping my arms tightly around him desperate to feel his warmth.

…and forgetting that my clothes have not yet had time to dry. “Oh. Now I’ve gone and soaked you too…” I mumble apologetically.

“Oh noo, how horrible,” he says with a soft laugh, laying his head on my shoulder as he snuggles closer to me, completely undeterred by my sopping wet clothes “I suppose we’ll simply have to huddle for warmth then, nothing else to be done about it.” I cannot help but smile slightly at his words. It’s a good thing he doesn't mind, because I do not plan to let go of him anytime soon. It's hard to think about much else when I'm holding him like this.

Everything is finally quiet again.

#lotro #lotro oc #Margim #Celeair #sorry other WiPs I got distracted by something else entirely...... again.#whoopsie!

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