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quin-ns · 3 days

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The blue (JJ Maybank x Reader)

Series summary: JJ has a secret, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold onto it. He discovers his breaking point when his best friend starts to show interest in you, his step sister, who he’s already fallen hard for

Series tags: step brother!jj, dual pov, jealousy, one sided john b x reader, drinking, inappropriate relationship, public sex, oral sex (f receiving)

A/N: first series I’ve finished and I could not be more excited to share! please read the tags and if the subject matter is uncomfortable to you, you do not have to read. this one is a wild ride guys, I can’t wait for you to see what I have in store 🫶

Series masterlist + OBX masterlist

JJ didn’t really understand how this happened, but it did. When he tried to trace it all back, there wasn’t really one big moment. Just a bunch of small individual moments that amounted to… this. This feeling. This thing that kept him up at night that he couldn’t seem to get rid of.

He’d never been in love before, so it took JJ awhile to realize that’s what he felt for you.

Or maybe it was the denial. The moral part of his brain telling him it wasn’t normal. Your mom was married to his dad, so according to everyone else’s rules that made you his step sister—even if he didn’t think about you in that context anymore.

He used to, when you both were younger, before your mom got arrested. A large part of why JJ was so happy when you came into his life was because his dad eased up on him, finding some semblance of happiness with your mom.

But she wasn’t exactly perfect. To be with his dad, JJ always wondered what was wrong. As it would turn out, she had serious issues, but what they got her for was being a tax cheat. It added up how they could’ve met after that.

It was getting to be around… what, a little over a year since that happened? JJ couldn’t really keep track of the months, and you never liked to talk about it.

As much as JJ loved his father, he knew he wasn’t a good guy, even if he wanted him to be. So it surprised him when his dad still let you stay with them, but you’d been around since you were both about thirteen, so even if his dad didn’t think of himself as responsible for you (or even JJ), he at least cared enough to not throw you to the street.

That was about the same JJ got from him, and recognizing that is what brought you closer to him.

Sure, you’d been sort of close growing up, but not really. You mostly spent time with your mom and your own friends. Then, when everything went down, you lost your mom and your friends followed not long after. He saw the puffiness in your eyes when you’d come home and go to your room for the whole night. No one to hang out with after school and nowhere to go on a Saturday night. They had ditched you, apparently deciding that mocking you was more important than being there for you. It made his stomach hurt to see you in such a state. You didn’t smile for days.

So JJ, being the good step brother that he was, stepped in. He took you under his wing and brought your smile back.

You fit in well with his friends, easily becoming a part of the group. They liked having you around, and JJ felt like he got to know you in a way he hadn’t ever before.

It was selfish, but you made being at home easier. You kept him company when he stayed up too late and made sure to wake him up in the morning so he wouldn’t be late to work whatever odd job he had at the time.

Whenever his dad hit him, which started again not long after your mom was locked up, you were there to take care of him.

You were so sweet with him, eyes full of care and touches gentle as you cleaned his cuts or iced his bruises. It made it hurt less.

After one night, when his dad hit him, leaving a cut from one of his rings on JJ’s face, you came to his aid as you frequently did. His dad stormed out, so it was just the two of you as you cleaned his face. You had him sit on the couch and stood over him, one hand holding his face while the other held a cloth to make sure the cut was clean.

As JJ stared up at you, your frustrated words about his father falling on deaf ears, one jarring thought crossed his mind.

You should kiss her.

He’d immediately stood up, snapping himself out of whatever daze he was in, and went to his room. You’d tried to talk to him, but he brushed you off and said he was tired. When he asked to be left alone, which was rare, you did.

He didn’t sleep most of the night, staring up at his ceiling wondering where that thought had even come from. He’d never had it before, but from that moment on, JJ started to become much more aware of everything you did—everything you did for him.

Of course his friends loved him and cared about him, and he did the same for them, but with you, something about it just felt different. You were by his side nearly every moment of the day. You saw things they didn’t, and you were there when they couldn’t be.

You became everything to JJ. There was no other way to put it.

That was a couple months ago, and since then, his realization had morphed into something far more.

JJ was deeply, madly in love with you, which was not something a guy should be with his step sister, but he was. He didn’t really deal with it, just shoved it down and tried to ignore it. It was hard, especially when he was around you every single day, but JJ had done his best.

JJ would catch himself staring at you more than he’d admit, but no one seemed to notice. No one would suspect what he was thinking anyway. He made excuses to touch you, like a hand on your back when moving past you to get something or draping his arm over your shoulder and leaning on you jokingly. The latter made you laugh, and he’d join you, but he’d still feel a loss when you playfully nudged him away and told him you weren’t an armrest.

Sometimes, when he didn’t care how pathetic it was, he’d let himself drink too much, just so he could lean on you when you’d help him inside. When he pulled that stunt, sometimes he’d get lucky and you’d even stay by his side to make sure he went to sleep comfortably. And of course, whenever his dad struck, fists full of misplaced rage, you were there, easing the pain.

JJ resolved to take what he could get, and eventually he’d move on.

At least, he hoped that’s how it would go. Maybe he’d get lucky and—

“Hello?” You waved a hand in front of JJ’s face. “I’m talking to you.”

JJ blinked. He looked at you, zoning back in. In an instant, he remembered what was going on. You and him, along with his three best friends, were all on the beach. The others were in the water, while you had been sunbathing on shore and JJ… well, he’d just been sitting by you, wanting to be in your proximity (and sometimes steal glances when he couldn’t help himself).

But now you were on your feet, leaning down as you dropped your hand. JJ’s eyes fell from your face to your chest, and he swallowed when he caught a glimpse down your bikini top.

His eyes flicked back to your face. Was that too obvious? He hoped not.

“Sorry, what?”

You gave him a confused look, but laughed and straightened up.

“Do you wanna get in?”

He knew you meant the water, and in the distance he saw his friends waving for the two of you to join them.

JJ shook his head, and the action felt as if it were in slow motion. Kind of like when he was high, but much less carefree.

“Um, maybe in a bit.”

If he got too distracted he’d probably drown in the ocean—if the guilt of keeping his secret from you didn’t do it first.

You shrugged, not able to read him the way you usually could.

“If you’re scared, there might be some floaties somewhere,” you teased as you turned your back, heading for the water.

JJ couldn’t formulate a comeback, too focused on the swing on your hips as you walked away from him.

He squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed again, questioning his own self what was wrong with him. He’s never experienced such a desperate feeling before. What were you doing to him?

When he opened his eyes, you were in the water, and he had no answers.

He tried to focus on the sand, the water, the sky—anything but you. He even tried to look at Kiara just to see if it would work, but his eyes always drifted back to you, the ache in his chest growing with each passing minute.

JJ didn’t think much of it when he saw Kiara suddenly haul herself up onto Pope’s shoulders, but he felt like he got kicked in the stomach when you climbed onto John B’s.

John B’s arms locked around your legs, the two of you laughing loudly as you steadied yourself. JJ could hear it from shore—you weren’t that far out. JJ knew he was focusing far more than necessary because he saw the way your hands brushed John B’s hair out of his face as he tilted his head back to look up at you.

Even from where he was, JJ could see how you smiled down at John B. It was innocent and friendly, and it made him incredibly jealous.

You and Kiara started to go at it, trying to knock the other into the water.

JJ didn’t think anyone noticed when he stood and walked down to the edge of the sand.

“You’re going down!” Kiara shouted, her hands interlocked with and pushing against yours as you both refused to budge.

You laughed loudly. It was like music.

It took one exchanged look from you and John B to formulate a plan. It was the kind of silent communication that JJ thought you reserved for him.

You let Kiara lean a lot of weight on you, and that’s where your advantage was. In an instant, you relaxed your grip and John B stepped to the side. The other girl, and Pope beneath her, wobbled. It was over in a second. The two shouted right before they crashed down into the water.

“Ha!” you exclaimed, raising your hands in the air while John B whooped and hollered in celebration.

Kiara and Pope emerged, both rolling their eyes. It was their turn to share a look, and as JJ waded into the water, he figured out their plan.

With the two of them jumping at John B, it was easy to knock him off his feet. JJ’s eyes went a little wide when you fell into the water with a crash.

“Did you see that?” Kiara yelled with a grin when she spotted JJ.

“Kinda hard to miss,” he responded, looking around the water. It had been a few seconds and you had yet to reappear.

“They’re just messing with us,” Pope commented on your and John B’s absence, but his words started to sound less sure by the end.

Another long beat of silence passed. The waves grew still.

“This isn’t funny anymore!” Kie shouted.

JJ felt a twinge of panic, awful scenarios flashing through his head. It didn’t matter how unlikely they were.

Suddenly, water erupted. John B arose with a splash, with you clinging to his back. He roared dramatically while shoving water towards Kie and Pope. They screamed as the waves hit them, trying and failing to shield themselves.

“Revenge!” you yelled in a maniacal manner, chin on John B’s shoulder.

“Truce! Truce!” Kie and Pope both yelled, spitting out saltwater.

John B paused, and JJ noticed how close his face was to yours when he turned his head.

“Should we forgive them?” John B deferred to you.

You hummed thoughtfully. “I think they learned their lesson,” you decided. Your gaze, which had been focused on John B, shifted past him. “Hey, look who made it!”

JJ realized you were talking to him. He forced a smile, smothering the jealousy he felt at seeing you and John B in the position you were in. It seemed weirdly close for you two. You and John B weren’t usually touchy-feely-piggyback-ride friends.

John B seemed to pick up on JJ’s shift in demeanor, because his smile was a little more contained as he said, “Hey, man.”

JJ figured his friend didn’t get that he was jealous, which was for the best. Everyone knew JJ was protective over you, and John B probably thought JJ was questioning his intentions as your brother. Why would it be anything else?

“Nice victory,” JJ replied, having nothing better to say. He didn’t even grit his teeth, so he counted that as a win for himself.

Tension eased as you all decided to just chat and relax in the water until the sun set.

Although, JJ kept an eye on John B, noticing how his friend kept an eye on you.

When it got dark and you all began to head back to the shore, JJ found himself at your side. Your steps fell in line with his as you looked up.

“You feeling okay?” you asked lightly. You must’ve sensed his attitude shift, even if it was subtle. “You’ve been quieter than usual.”

JJ couldn’t help the urge to smile at how well you knew him.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied, not wanting to concern you. He liked when you worried about him, but this was the one time when he didn’t want you pressing for him to open up. “Are you?”

JJ reached to ruffle your damp hair. You swatted his hand away before he could do any real damage.

“Very funny,” you grumbled. Your expression shifted to a smile, then softened. There was something careful about it. “If something was up, you’d tell me, right?”

JJ swallowed, trying to avoid the way your eyes searched his. He had to look forward before he could answer.

“Yeah, of course,” he assured.

JJ didn’t remember falling asleep on the couch, but he remembered everyone sitting around the living room.

Wait, no. That wasn’t right.

The porch. Everyone has been sitting on the porch, drinking and laughing together. He recalled cramming himself into a chair next to you, playing it off like a joke. Everyone had laughed, and he got to be close to you, so it worked out.

He also remembered following Kiara and Pope inside, expecting you to be behind him.

Everything clicked.

You and John B had elected to stay outside, and JJ had been sitting on the couch, watching through the window, trying to make out what you were saying through the small opening where the window was cracked for the nighttime breeze.

He must’ve dozed off while waiting for you. That didn’t sound like him—he would’ve been focused on watching you, making sure you made it in. Maybe he had been worn out or you stayed up way too late, or both.

JJ blinked a few times. He was just concerned for your safety, like always. Fenced in porches with lights and his best friend keeping you company could be dangerous…

Yeah, he didn’t even buy that.

It was easier back when JJ believed his own lies and self justifications.

Sitting up, JJ peered out the window. It was the early hours of the morning, right around when it was still dark but you could just tell the sun was about to begin rising. His heart sped up when he found you missing from your chair. You weren’t in any of the other chairs in his view, either.

He stood up, feeling more awake than ever, and went right for the door. He didn’t care about waking anyone inside up.

“Jeez, man,” John B said suddenly, sounding surprised as he looked at him. JJ had just barged out onto the porch out of nowhere. “You good?”

JJ took a second to observe his friend. He half-sitting and half-laying back on the couch against the wall, which made sense because he’d been sitting there before. From inside, JJ couldn’t see him, but he didn’t even think about John B’s whereabouts until he stepped out.

Maybe he was a bad friend for that.

He didn’t feel that guilty, though, because he saw where you were; sleeping on John B with your head on his thigh. You were curled up on your side, facing away from his body, and JJ could see how steadily you were breathing.

JJ looked back at his friend, ready to lash out, but the word ‘irrational’ popped up in his mind and resisted. Just from the scene in front of him, it’s not like he had anything to be mad about.

Jealous, maybe, but not mad. But he couldn’t act on that feeling either. If he acted jealous, that would invite too many questions that JJ didn’t have a good answer for.

“Fine just…” He ran a hand through his hair and then shook his head. “You guys good?”

John B furrowed his brows a little, but chuckled.

“Yeah, we’re fine. We were just talking and she started to fall asleep and I just let her. She seemed tired and it wasn’t a big deal so...”

“What were you guys talking about?”

“I don’t know, stuff?”

JJ leaned back in the doorway. “Like what, though?”

John B tilted his head a little, shaking it ever so slightly.

“Just… life and stuff. Does it matter?”

“I guess not,” JJ replied, giving the appropriate answer. He looked down at you, noticing you hadn’t stirred. You looked comfortable, and that was very conflicting. All of this was. It made his head hurt. “Has she been asleep long?”

John B met JJ’s eyes when he looked back up from you.

“You sure you’re okay?” John B asked, sounding almost concerned. Or at least confused. Maybe both.

But the answer was no. No he wasn’t.

“Yeah, man,” JJ answered with a shrug. “She probably won’t wake up if you wanna get up and go get some sleep.”

John B looked down at you, then at JJ.

He slowly started to move, being extra careful with your head, making sure to put a cushion beneath you before standing up straight.

John B gave a light, awkward smile to JJ as he neared him. He brushed past to go through the door, turning to face JJ.

“You coming?”

“Actually, I think I’m gonna sleep out here,” JJ answered, fighting the urge to look at you. He gave a shrug instead and said, “It’s nice out and I can’t get comfortable on the couch anyway. You can have it—plus I think Kie’s in your bed, so…”

“Right…” John B agreed slowly, glancing at you on the couch again. “You know nothing happened, right?” He looked back at JJ. “We were just talking.”

JJ wasn’t expecting something so direct. “It’s cool man, I know,” he found himself replying. “We’re good.”

John B nodded, albeit slowly. He entered the dark house, and JJ shut the door behind him. As a courtesy.

He then turned, spotted the comfiest chair, and resolved to sleep in that for the night. You had stretched out on the couch and looked too peaceful to disturb, even if he did want to take John B’s place from before.

It worked out perfectly, because it gave him a clear view of you as he decided to let himself go back to sleep.

As his eyes closed, he wondered if John B would peek through the window just as he had.

If he did, he’d see the content smile on JJ’s face as he drifted off to sleep. For yet another night, JJ got you all to himself. He didn’t want it any other way. He wasn’t sure what he would do.

#stepbrother!jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x you #step bro!jj maybank #the blue #obx #outer banks #quin-ns writing

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lilyisclueless · 10 hours

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When they realize they're in love - Gojo Satoru

How I imagine the boys get hit with the realization that they love you. Satoru's turn

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x reader

Tags: Fluff, that's about it

He isn’t sure when the two of you got as close as you did. He’s known you for years, being one of the first ones to greet you when you transferred from Kyoto to be a teacher here, and ever since it’s been a gradual growth. It was a steady growth, but so slow that by the time he picked up on the fact the two of you were close friends, his only option was to accept that after years of goofing around and not allowing anyone close, he’s finally made another friend. A serious friend; not just another comrade putting up with him.

That realization happened a few years ago. It was a surprise but he accepted it. Since then the two of you have grown even closer. He’s grown to admire you, and you’re one of the very, very few people that he had any ounce of respect for. It wasn’t like you were incredibly strong, although you definitely could hold your own, so he wasn’t sure why.

Maybe it was the way you understood his ideals, how you wholeheartedly supported them and defended him. When he had told you that he wanted to let the vessel of Sukana live, you immediately agreed to vouch for him. You didn’t question him, didn’t ask if he lost his mind. You didn’t make a face or doubt him. He didn’t have to convince you. When he asked why you were so quick to agree, you smiled up at him and told him that you trusted his judgment completely, and if he was wrong about Itadori; you trusted he would deal with him.

That had left a weird fuzzy feeling in his chest he couldn’t shake off for the next couple days.

Maybe the admiration came from how you took care of the students. You care about them the same way a mother would about their children. You would surprise them with sweets and gifts, always making sure everyone got their favorite. If they needed someone to talk to, you were the one they went to. He’ll never forget the way you broke down when he had to break the news that Itadori had died. That was the first time he held you in his arms, and if he didn’t want to kill the higher-ups before, he certainly did then when he was feeling you fall to pieces between his fingers.

Naturally, he didn’t hide it from you when he woke up. Maybe it was the fear of what happened with a certain someone in the past, but his soul didn’t feel at ease until he saw the way you melted in relief at seeing their student standing again.

Or maybe it was the way you matched his energy. Or the way you can soothe his emotions with ease. Maybe because you could take his jokes, and throw them right back at him. Or how you weren’t afraid to goof off, claiming the world was too bleak to be so serious all the time. Sometimes you would have to rein him back in, but only when he needed it.

There were a lot of reasons for him to respect and admire you, but none of them felt quite right when he asked himself why.

“I know I’m always telling you to shut up, but it’s weird when you actually do it,” you speak up, breaking his line of thoughts. He glances down at you, the two of you walking side by side to find a soda machine. It was rare for the two of you to go out for any other reason than a mission or supervise the kids, but today was the rare exception. He glanced down at your outfit, and he couldn’t help but think you looked cute, but you spoke up again before he could dwell on that, “What’s on your mind?”

His smile twitches, the corner of his lips tugging into a playful smile. He looks away from you, staring straight ahead as he hums in thought at your question. You could barely see his blue eyes peak from over his sunglasses, but you definitely could make out the teasing glint in them.

“I’m just wondering why a girl like you chooses to spend her time with a guy like me.” You felt your cheek grow a little warm, and you’re quick to look away with a nervous chuckle. Where was he going with this? “After all, I’m the strongest and you’re the weakest. How are we supposed to-“

He’s cut off with a small ‘oof’ when you give his shoulder a playful punch, completely throwing him off guard. You hadn’t moved your body to indicate you were planning on trying to hit him, simply swung your arm straight to the side.

He stopped walking then, rubbing at the spot you’d hit him. Not because it hurt, he was Gojo Satoru after all. He could handle a little punch that held no real intent behind it. No, because he was shocked you actually managed to hit him.

He’s allowed you to touch him before of course, so you don’t realize how significant that moment was. Because every time you’ve touched him in the past, he’s allowed it. He’s put his infinity down purposely. This time? You simply skipped through. He felt the moment your hand touched it and simply kept going.

The last person who could ever do that was…

You stopped moving, shuffling to face him with a curious expression on your face. He could still see a hint of red on your cheeks, and you tilted your head to the side to raise an eyebrow at him. “Don’t tell me I wounded you with that little punch? Who’s the strongest one now?”

He wishes his heart would stop pounding in his chest. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt flustered. He forced himself to resume his walking, purposely reaching down and ruffling your hair when he walked past you. As he expected, you immediately start complaining and become distracted trying to put those pretty strands back into place.

His long strides put him a good distance away, and he laughs when you have to jog to catch up. The two of you fall into a playful banter, which eventually trailed off to a comfortable silence.

No wonder it didn’t feel right to say he respected and admired you for all that you do. He respected and admired you because he loves you.

He wonders when he fell in love with you, but he has a feeling it was just like their friendship - so gradual that he’ll never be able to pinpoint it. That’s okay though. He’s tired of taking it slow with you. Soon, he decides, he's going to take you on a date.

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #LilyIsCreative

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glittter-vamp · 2 days

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Even if Deuxmoi is bullshit why hasn’t someone, anyone have come forward to deny the rumors? When she’s posted about a JB engagement or cheating in the past she’s always hedged with “sources” saying otherwise.

Okay, I’m going to respond to this and this only because I’ve gotten MULTIPLE asks over these weeks about this and I am quite over it. No matter how much I block anons, people on the tag what have you this topic haunts my blog constantly and I come on here to have fun and decompress not gossip about a relationship that is none of our concern.

It is simply NONE of our goddamn business what happens between Joe and Olivia.

If they’re dating, it’s NOT our business.

If they’re engaged, it’s NOT our business.

If they broke up, it’s NOT our business.

If they are friends with benefits, it’s NOT our business.

If they are married, it’s NOT our business.

If they are swingers, it’s NOT our business.

If they are having kids, It’s NOT our business.

If they are arch nemesis, it’s NOT our business.

If they are best friends, it’s NOT our business.

It’s also NONE of our business who Joe follows on instagram and if he likes their pictures because some people in his real life social circle alone are very questionable people but that’s never an issue, only a stupid follow and like on social media when it’s someone of the opposite sex has people foaming at the mouth in anger on behalf of a woman NONE OF US KNOW. If it bothers you, no one is holding you at gun point to care about Joe Burrow or to post about him. By all means move from him, enjoy your time on tumblr with people & stuff you actually like & support.

I will never understand the obsession people have about their relationship. We have YET to see Joe even throw a football as of now or know if he’s going to be back at his full potential but y’all are concerned with his romantic life that has nothing to do with any of us or his football career.

Leave what doesn’t concern you, alone. Stop bothering blogs with this and stop filling the tag with it.

#joe burrow

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exhuastedpigeon · 19 hours

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Tease Tidbit Tuesday

the writing beans have returned from war, but not for any of my existing wips. Enjoy this little tease from my (second) Buddie NHL AU. This one is (hopefully) going to be short and smutty (the short part might be a lie, I'm at 2k and haven't started the smut).

Buck would like it on record that he didn’t go looking for the video of Eddie’s fight with Jonah Greenway because he didn’t even know Eddie had gotten in a fight with Jonah Greenway. Ravi sent the video into the group chat with the comment that “Fans are weirdly horny over fights” and no other context. If Eddie had been home Buck probably wouldn’t have watched it or maybe they would have watched it together for a laugh, but Eddie was still at practice and Buck was alone in the Diaz house where he’d spent the last month recovering. He was bored, he figured watching a fan edited video of a fight would be fine. The video started with a title card that said “Buddie is real” and a clip of the hit that had ended Buck’s season. He’d seen the hit a few times now, but he wasn’t sure why Ravi had mentioned a fight. The video cut to Eddie throwing his stick and gloves onto the ice and shoving Greenway away from Buck before dropping to his knees and carefully cupping Buck’s face in his hands. He was hit with a sudden memory of that moment, of the way he hurt so much but he felt safe because Eddie was there. He couldn’t hear what Eddie was saying in the video, but he remembered Eddie making him feel safe. The next cut showed Eddie and Ravi, but mostly Eddie, helping Buck off the ice.

I've been tagged by so many folks for tag games over the last week (thank you for tagging me everyone I've loved your snippets). I'm just going to tag a bunch of people who've tagged me over the last week and the buds <3

@thewolvesof1998 @monsterrae1 @loserdiaz @inell @rosieposiepuddingnpie

@acountrygirlsfun @actualalligator @hawkbutt @sibylsleaves @dangerpronebuddie

@sunshinediaz @jeeyuns @spagheddiediaz @neverevan @watchyourbuck

@tizniz @eddiebabygirldiaz @daffi-990 @wildlife4life @devirnis

@spotsandsocks @butchdiaz @911-on-abc @rainbow-nerdss @cal-daisies-and-briars

@steadfastsaturnsrings @underwaterninja13 @ronordmann @diazsdimples @jesuisici33

@ladydorian05 @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @fortheloveofbuddie @honestlydarkprincess @bi-buckrights

@herrmannhalsteadproduction @elvensorceress @nmcggg @shitouttabuck

@thekristen999 @theotherbuckley @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @loveyouanyway @wikiangela

#buddie wip #buddie #my wip #tease tidbit tuesday #wip: wipe your mouth when you done

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ronsenthal · 2 days

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Dear hbowarfandom,

I'm on my knees once again begging you to stop

STOP

Stop

STOP

S T O P

interacting with posts with stolen edits, we are in 2024 and I feel like I don't need to throw a big ass rant about how wrong and disrespectful and nasty it is to our lovely creators, all their effort and how toxic it is to a fandom, specially a little one like ours BUT HERE I AM ONCE AGAIN TALKING ABOUT IT!!!!

Nowadays we have the GIF search engine that links to the original post so you can use that one nice edit you saw etc etc etc

As someone who spends HOURS creating edits to share with other people who love the silly little dumb character it's honestly infuriating and so so sad to see mutuals interacting with stolen edits, it honestly hurt my feelings and it's even discouraging and depressing to see it happening over and over again

I try to stay positive and see the best because hey it can be an honest mistake!!! Could be from someone new and not familiar with how things works on here so that's why I decided to say something to bring awareness to the issue, so please I kindly ask you to talk about it with your mutuals, your friends, your dashboard neighbors and even re-evaluate our behaviour as a tiny but lovely community

AND PLEASE STOP USING CHARACTERS TAGS THAT ARE NOT EVEN REMOTELY INVOLVED IN YOUR POST!!!!!

PLEASE USE THE READ MORE INSTEAD OF POSTING THE WHOLE FUCKING ENCYCLOPEDIA COLLECTION

STOP STEALING OTHER PEOPLES WORKS!!!!!!!!

ACTORS ARE NOT THEIR CHARACTERS!!!!!

BE FUCKING NICE TO EACH OTHER

#hbowarfandom #mw*#im seriously pissed and sad #hbo war #fuck it im gonna tag all the shows too #band of brothers #masters of the air #the pacific #generation kill #yeah im THAT bitch #AND THIS BITCH IS TIRED

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 2 days

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Cancelled

Jake Lockley x GN!Reader • Rating: T •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist• ko-fi •

Summary: Your plans change.

🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜

A/N: Sat on a few of these fics for ages because I'm overthinking them, but thought 'ahhh, I need to post them now in time for the event!' Having a deadline is very helpful.

Warnings: Reader experiencing some sensory issues, Jake reading smutty books, overuse of italics, typos, not beta read, rail-road sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 801

Your phone buzzes on the bed. The drone is muffled slightly by the pillow it’s under. You finish fixing your outfit in the mirror and sigh.

The material was ever so slightly wrong today. Normally it was fine, but now the feel of it just irritated you. But this was the seventh outfit you’d tried on and honestly if you were going to make it to the restaurant by 8pm, even with Jake’s ingenious driving, you had to leave now.

You pick up your phone, glancing at the screen as you unlock it.

One message.

From one of your friends you were meeting up with. Probably something along the lines of ‘see everyone soon’. Usually you were excited to see them. They were some of your oldest and dearest friends, and you loved their company. But today it just felt off. Getting dressed up and going out. Eating at a semi expensive (for your budget anyway) restaurant that you didn’t even like that much. Putting on your ‘social interaction face’. It all just seems far too exhausting.

Your eyes widened as you read the messages on the group chat.

‘Can’t make it, stupid traffic at the tunnel! Been stuck for 50 mins and haven’t moved!’

‘I can’t either, babysitter fell through!’

‘So sorry everyone, maybe it’s for the best, I’ve got a horrible headache and was gonna power through, but maybe it’s best if we reschedule?’

The last message had you at-ted.

‘It’s that okay with you? Sorry you let you down! <3’

Relief floods your veins and you hastily type a, ‘no worries, let’s reschedule’, adding several happy face emojis out of paranoia that your message could be misread, before you wish everyone well and to have a good evening.

Jake hears you throw your bedroom door open, but doesn’t glance up from where he’s slouched over your armchair reading. It’s one of those bodice-ripping paperbacks from the 80s with the fabulously illustrated covers. Jake’s guilty pleasure. While he knows that Marc and Steven wouldn’t care, and most likely wouldn’t be bothered at all by his reading choices, he also very much does not want them to know. A feeling he’s sure he should try to unpack at some point.

But that was a future Jake task.

Which is why he’d taken to either hiding them behind the cistern in Steven’s flat or keeping them at yours, tucked neatly on your bookshelf (with your permission) behind a row of your books.

“You ready to go amor?” He asked as he turned the page.

You bounded over to him, ripping your stupid, itchy top off in the process. “Excellent news!” You stopped in front of him, smacking your hands onto the armchair for emphasis.

Jake didn’t even flinch, half absorbed in his book and half used to your dramatic flare.

“Oh?” He glanced up at you and paused, a small frown of interest crossing his face. “You don’t have a top on.”

“Exceptional observation skills Lockey.”

He smirks.

“Guess what?”

“You’re embracing a new life as a nudist?”

“The meal’s cancelled.”

“What?”

“The meal’s cancelled. You know cancelled, as in not happening.” You grin.

He gives you a playful look and swats your upper arm softly with his book. (His middle finger pressed inside to keep his page.) “I know what cancelled means, why?”

“Traffic, no babysitter, and headache.” You list the reasons as you count them on your hand excitedly.

He smiles. “Really weren’t feeling it today were you?”

“How could you tell?” You say playfully.

“Well, you kicking the door open to tell me was a good give away.”

You laugh.

“Plus, you really were leaving it pretty fine to get there on time.” He slips his bookmark between the pages and puts the book down on the floor before inching forward, he wraps his arms around your waist and gently pulls you into his lap, giving you plenty of time to step back if you wanted to. “I know how much being late makes you anxious.”

You snuggle up to him, wrapping your own arms around his shoulders and kissing his cheek. His day old stubble rubs against your skin. But this sensation is comforting. Like home.

“So you letting it get to this time without us going, or without you telling me off for reading instead of putting my shoes on.”

“I don’t tell you off.” You grumble, your words muffled by how your mouth is pressed against his neck.

Jake laughs. “Playfully.”

You tut affectionately. “Alright, playfully.” You adjust your position on his lap, getting comfortable.

“So, what do you want to do tonight?” He presses a light kiss to your temple.

“Hmm, how about… pizza and you can read some of your smutty book to me?”

He laughs again and kisses your lips. “Sounds good.”

____________________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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damn-stark · 2 days

Text

Chapter 37 Strong heart

Chapter 37 of Sugar

A/N- I hope you guys like it :) I liked writing this chapter

Warning- Swearing, ANGST, FLUFF, violence and blood, talks of DEATH, and pregnancy, flashback, SPOILERS!!!! long chapter!

Pairing- Choso x Gojo!fem-reader, Suguru Geto x Gojo!fem-reader

Episode and or chapters- Chapter 243 to chapter 253

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

Choso’s not responding, why is he not responding?

You take a step closer but stop out of fear that you’ll meet up with a corpse.

“Ch…” You trail off in a quivering voice and continue watching his unmoving body.

Please don’t be dead. Please don’t be gone, please…

You force yourself to go to him, but you head to him slowly because your fear of losing him is polluting your mind. After all, when you found Suguru last year he was on the ground, bleeding out, barely alive, and missing an entire arm. What if you come across that horrifying scene again, but this time you don’t even get to say goodbye?

“Choso?” Your voice comes out hoarse as your need to cry weakens it. “Choso?”

You cast a shadow over him as you stop a foot away from him because you’re scared if you get too close you won’t hear him breathe.

“Choso?” You basically plead.

And this time, at last, you catch his fingers shift on the ground—but! Does that mean he’s okay? You see a lot of blood staining his clothes, and two giant fist-sized holes on the back of his vest.

Choso then slowly lifts his head and you hold your breath when you meet his honey-imbued eyes. He mutters your name as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing, and his pupils dilate as he keeps watching you with the rays of the sun shining around your head like a glorious halo.

You step closer and pull the worm cursed-spirit off your shoulders to try and crouch, but Choso pushes himself up and that’s when you freeze completely because of the two gaping wounds you see close to his side. You can’t see through them, it seems like they went all the way through since there’s holes on his back, but there’s raw flesh now that makes his wound look like two dark voids.

“Choso,” you gasp.

Said man doesn’t seem to believe you’re real, he just studies your face as if he’s admiring some painting for a lingering moment before he lunges forward and throws his arms around you.

And you can't believe his chest was moving with signs of life, that you're actually looking into his pretty eyes until you feel his warmth and his strong arms around you. “Choso,” you whisper in disbelief and cling onto him.

“My love,” he whispers. “You’re okay. You’re safe, you’re back to me.”

His voice is so comforting, so soft and soothing. You wish you could say it kills the fear you felt clinging onto your heart, but you won’t stop being afraid about his well-being until you’re walking out of this fight hand in hand.

“You’re alive,” you point out to yourself. “Why didn’t you answer me? I was calling out your name?”

Choso pulls back and grabs onto your jaw to tilt your head and then step back to study your body for any wounds he might’ve missed.

“I’m okay,” you assure him as you watch his eyes roam your body. “We’re okay, Kenjaku didn’t even touch me.”

Choso’s eyes snap to you and he doesn’t seem to believe you, so you grab his hand and yank it down to put over your belly. “Remember you can feel them. They’re okay, yes?”

Choso holds your gaze as he searches within himself for the confirmation over the twins' status. And once he’s assured that they’re okay just like you told him, he sighs with relief and once again holds your face with both hands to check you out one more time.

“I’m okay,” you whisper and caress his shoulder with a sweet smile.

He lets out a deep breath and nods in comprehension, and as he stays attached to you, you slip your hands down to his chest with a smile still glued to your face, and then shove him back with your face quickly twisting to show your anger.

“You scared me!” You scold him. “I kept calling out to you, I texted you twice and you didn’t answer me. I thought…I…” you trail off and swiftly turn on your heels to catch your breath and stop yourself from crying.

You already cried so much today, that you don’t want to keep crying.

“I’m sorry,” Choso quickly tries to comfort you. “I just didn’t want you to see me hurt. I wanted to heal before you got to me, I’m sorry,” he whispers those last two words as he grabs your shoulder.

You turn your face away and lift your hand to gnaw on your nail. “How…how did it happen?” Your voice comes out muffled.

Choso sighs. “Sukuna surprised me. He was too fast, I tried to use piercing blood, but from one second to another he was before me and jammed his hands through me.”

Any higher and he would’ve hit his core, and his heart, Choso was close to death, he could’ve died. You were close to being a widow once again, you were close to having to live without him.

“I should’ve been more careful,” he adds sincerely.

Yes, and no. He was just trying to help the best he could, he didn’t expect to get hurt the way he did, but you can’t help but be upset because he was so close to death.

“You,” you spat and snap your head around to pierce your glare at him, but when you meet his guilt-filled eyes, when you see the life in his eyes your anger falls and your relief completely takes over, making you throw your arms around his neck instead.

“I’m happy you’re okay,” you whisper in his ear. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

Choso balls your clothes as he grabs onto your back and breaks the truth. “We’re still not done yet.”

Your breath trembles, but you don’t let his comment bring you down. “I know but let me just appreciate you’re okay for now.” You say and snuggle your face in the crook of his neck.

Choso hums and keeps holding you for as long as you need until you remember what you have and pull apart with a smirk. “I have something I need to give you,” you clue him in even though he might have an idea.

You then walk over to pick up the worm cursed spirit and drape him around your shoulders before you reach towards his mouth. “Now, I’ll tell you what I told Shoko, I’m sorry for the way it’s brought over, I just didn’t want to carry this around in my hand,” you tell him and pull out the jar with Kenjaku’s brain. “This is yours,” you let Choso know, and assure him that his father is gone once and for all. “You and your brother can rest easy now that he won’t be roaming this earth.”

Choso clenches his jaw and anger passes behind his eyes, but it’s all then quickly replaced by relief, and then lastly sorrow that brings tears to the corner of his eyes. And you can’t imagine it’s sorrow for his father's death, he hated his father, so it must be sorrow born from joy more than anything; joy that at long last a monster who terrorized him, his brothers, and his mother is finally gone.

It was all thanks to you.

“Your mother and your brothers can rest now too,” you tell him softly. “He won’t torment anyone anymore.”

Choso looks at you and his eyes gleam with awe and joy. “Thank you,” he muses as he takes the jar. “Thank you for doing this for me and for my family.”

You offer him a gentle smile and reach over to wipe a tear off his cheek. “You welcome and if it wasn't just me, it was Okkotsu too, but you are welcome.”

Choso grabs your hand to give it a gentle squeeze, and as he holds your gaze the love he has for you only heightens and grows more passionate and tender. He also thanks the stars and fate for letting your paths intertwine.

“What will you do with it?” You ask Choso, making him snap from his stupor to glare at the brain with a seething anger.

“Burn it,” he sneers, “and then I’ll disintegrate those ashes until there’s nothing left. I don’t want to give him even the slightest chance of coming back, especially not now that we're going to have children.”

You hum and nod in comprehension.

“I wish I could do it now,” he grumbles, “but it seems we don’t have the time.”

He looks up at you and pushes the jar towards you. “Can you keep it safe until I can get rid of it?”

You take the jar from his hand and assure him without hesitation. “Of course I can.”

You return the jar to the Worm so he can keep it safe within him for now.

“Did you…” Choso pauses, making you look back at him with a soft curious look—“recover Suguru Geto’s body?”

You blink in surprise and avert your gaze to nod. “Yes,” you respond quietly. Again not out of shame, you just don’t know how much you should talk about Suguru with Choso.

“Shoko says she can mend the wounds we left him and get rid of the those nasty stitches Kenjaku left,” you share with a faint smile, and when you look over you see Choso struggling to keep his eyes on you.

It’s probably just as awkward for him as it is for you.

“That’s good. Satori will be able to look at her father one last time without thinking about Noritoshi,” he says what you thought about too. “And you,” he pauses. “Will be able to put him to rest too.”

You sigh and nod. “Yeah,” you mumble. “I know…It’s not weird, is it? Talking about him?”

Choso keeps his eyes on his hand clutching onto his wound and blinks before he shakes his head. “No…it’s just…strange, but it’s something I know shouldn’t bother me.” He finally looks over at you and looks at you with a guilty look. “Don’t think you have to avoid talking about him in front of me…I understand he was your husband. You loved him.”

You hold his gaze as you feel your heart envelope in warm bliss and awe that could almost mend your shattered heart.

“You’re sweet,” you coo and grab his chin with your thumb and pointer finger to lean in and press a gentle peck on his lips. “This is why I love you.”

The corner of Choso’s pink lips tug up and his hand cups your wrist to caress your skin and send waves of comfort throughout your aching body.

“Now,” you change the subject as you slide your hand over to take his hand. “Why don’t we go sit so you can finish healing before we meet up with Yuji? I have something to show you.” You bounce your eyebrows and flash him a giddy grin.

Choso studies you and this sudden burst of excitement that he knows isn't just caused by anything, there’s a specific reason behind your outburst and he assumes one thing. “Did Satori send you something?”

You walk him toward a nearby wall since there’s no benches anywhere nearby.

“No,” you tell him and peer back at him with your lips and eyes hard to read. “Manami and Toshihisa were going to keep her distracted all day today. I didn’t want to risk having her catch a glimpse of the broadcast. So she’s too busy having fun.” You assume, but you also know that it’s not too far-fetched considering who’s taking care of her.

“It’s something else,” you tease him and sit you both down on the cold ground and press your backs against the wall. “Are you ready?” You only begin to excite him now.

“I don’t know if I should be,” Choso remarks nonchalantly.

You giggle as you pull out your phone and meet his gaze to pass him a giddy look that causes a gleam to spark in your eyes, and makes his heart skip a beat.

“Shoko checked on me after I got back,” you begin to explain to him as you surf on your phone until you find the video you just took of the twin's heartbeat—“and she heard this.”

You press play and push the phone near him so he can see the screen, even if it’s just Shoko pressing the wand against your belly.

At first, though Choso doesn’t seem to understand what he hears, he thinks that the two running hearts are just your own heart racing too fast.

“I don’t—” just before he can express his concern though his mouth goes agape and his eyes widen.

“It’s their heartbeats,” you make it clear so he can process the news faster. “It’s Suki and…”

“…Tsukuyomi,” Choso finishes for you, making you beam at him and nod in confirmation. He then carefully takes the phone from you to pull the phone closer to his ear.

“That’s them, that’s their hearts,” he muses.

You watch as his eyes cloud with blissful tears, and his smile spreads with a tender adoration dancing on his lips.

“They sound strong,” you repeat what Shoko told you. “They have strong hearts.”

Choso tears his eyes away from the video and looks at you with even more tenderness that softens his eyes and makes his eyes glimmer. “Just like you,” he whispers confidently because out of all the things he knows, he knows he’s more than sure about that.

You hear it, the sincerity behind his tone and you can’t help but also redirect it at him. “And you.”

Choso’s smile fills with more admiration and he responds by leaning in and pressing a kiss on your forehead.

You smile softly with glee and take his hand before you rest your head on his shoulder and listen to the video one more time to use that as a sliver of joy in this storm of agonizing sorrow.

After Choso plays the video a couple more times he rests his head on yours and gently squeezes your hand in the silence he keeps. You can’t help but keep smiling as you think about your dream of growing your family, of raising your children the way you wanted to be raised and loving them with your husband who loves you unconditionally.

What more could you ask for—

Oh…

Satoru…right.

No matter what he was always in your future, even if you imagined him distant when you didn’t talk, he was still there in the background of your dreams. Now…where he once was is replaced by a black void that slowly swallows everything and leaves you hopeless for the future.

“Once this is done,” you break the silence to avoid drowning in your grief. “The snakes will lash out at the Gojo clan.”

“What do you mean?” Choso probes a bit confused.

“They won’t accept my daughter as their leader so they’ll try and replace her with one of my male cousins most likely,” you explain and already start to feel irritated.

“Even if your brother left in his will that he wants Satori to be leader after him?”

You nod. “Yeah, one, my daughter wasn't raised with the Gojo’s, two she's a woman, and three her last name is Geto and she didn’t inherit her father's technique.” You sigh but smirk mischievously. “Not like it really matters, sure it’s annoying, but I’ll go chop off a few heads to make them listen, and if Satori chooses not to be leader, well, I’ll take her place and pass on the title to one of our children. Hence following the procession of the clan with my line.”

That will surely teach your family for mistreating you!

You love being spiteful.

“Are you sure?” Choso surprises you by asking.

You pull away from his side and meet his gaze with a serious and determined pointed look. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” you swear.

Choso didn’t want to try and argue or convince you that it was a bad idea, all he needed was to ask if that’s what you really wanted to do. Now that he has his answer he’ll leave it be and let you do as you please and what best suits your daughter, and your brother's wishes because it’s what he would do too if he was in your shoes.

“I know it hasn’t been long, but how’s your wound?” You interject as you turn around to sit on your knees and grab his vest and robe to pull it aside so you can check out his wound yourself.

“I feel better,” he tries to assure you, even if you look at his wound right now and see that it’s still pretty deep. They’re not as deep as before, but they’re not near closing yet. However, you know you can’t reason with Choso, not when Yuji is still in commission, as well as you. You would need to knock him out cold to get him to sit back.

“Cho,” you still try to argue regardless. “I see—”

“I’m okay, I can keep fighting,” he cuts you off a bit harshly so you won’t try and argue again. “Don’t worry about me right now.”

You drop your eyes to the two holes in his flesh and groan before you steal a glimpse at his blood-stained abs and let his clothes go to fall back into his place.

“We should…find Yuji,” you bring up a bit begrudgingly. Only because you wish he’d heal 150 percent.

“That’s what I was thinking,” he says as he stands on his feet.

“That’s what I was thinking,” you mock under your breath as you follow him up.

Alas, he catches you and slowly cranes his head back to look at you with his thick eyebrows furrowed.

You sass him and shoot him a pointed look that makes him scoff before he steps aside to let you walk ahead as he keeps an eye out from behind.

However, he’s not looking out for Yuji, he’s watching out for trouble that might try and catch you off guard. Even if Sukuna is fighting alone and he has no reason to come after either of you unprovoked, it would still be stupid to not be looking over your shoulders.

“I hope you know the moment you get hurt I will throw you over my shoulder,” Choso proclaims, making you smirk and look back at him.

“Oh really?” You say teasingly, causing his eyes to snap to you, however he doesn’t catch your flirtatious smile.

“Really,” he says seriously.

Your smirk deepens and your voice turns silkier. “Why don’t you try it out right now? Just show me how you’ll do it, hm?”

Choso blinks and is finally hit with the realization of what you’re really getting at. “Oh…well…I can show you,” he tries his best to hit you back with something flirty just as smoothly as you.

“I might argue,” you say and come to a stop so he can fall right behind you, to the point his chest grazes your back—“what will you do then?”

Choso swallows thickly and glances at your lips, making you steal a glimpse at his own before you turn around and show him an example with a short kiss.

“There’s one way to keep me quiet or…?” You trail off so he can finish.

“Or,” he trails on as he holds your gaze completely star-struck. “I can,” he pauses and raises his hand to let it hover over your mouth and make sure you’re okay with what he’s doing. When he notices that you aren’t protesting, and keep waiting with a smirk on your face, Choso gently presses his hand against your lips and slowly lets his thumb graze over your bottom lip as he holds your gaze.

Your heart skips a beat with excitement and his pounds, but even as he stands there nervously he still gently penetrates the tip through your lips. When he feels the warmth and wetness of your mouth he shoves his whole thumb in, making you suck gently before you pull away from his touch and laugh.

Not at him. Of course. You laugh with excitement, having forgotten for a moment what tormented you, and steal a passionate kiss that you savor before you press your forehead on his and grab the back of his neck.

Choso lets out a deep breath and cups your cheeks to caress your jawline with his thumb, making you lean your face towards one side to steal one more moment of comfort.

Just a short moment before you both pull away and continue down your path side by side.

After a few moments of walking, you finally come across Yuji on his knees in the middle of the highway with blood spilling out of his mouth. And just ahead you see only a glimpse of Maki and Sukuna before they disappear from your view. But even if he’s gone you still feel a chill run down your spine as you assume you’ll be facing him off soon now that you’re closer in his range…

Soon though, now you focus on Choso and his brother, and with a look alone you press Choso to help his brother.

And even if your husband understands what you mean he still hesitates. “What if I say the wrong thing? He said I’m not good at teaching, I don’t want him to get something wrong because of me,” he pauses and drifts his gaze away from Yuji to look at you with a soft pleading look. “Could you help him, remind him to take it slow?”

You glance at Yuji in distress and do have the need to help him, but if you were him all you’d want is your brother's help, even if it is a smidge of advice.

“He needs you,” you advise Choso. “Just don't over-explain it. Talk to him as if you were talking to Satori,” you say and rub his shoulders, but he doesn’t seem content with that so you come up with one more thing. “Ah! Just explain it to me and I’ll tell you if it's okay.”

Choso swallows back nervously but doesn’t hesitate this time, he draws out a deep breath and brings his hand up to press his thumb on your forehead. “Healing comes from here. All you need to do is just visualize. Watch it spread like roots,” he explains tenderly as he moves his thumb down. “Spread it everywhere and focus on mending what’s really wounded.”

Choso traces the veins down to your hand and stops when his thumb lands on your warm palm. And as he holds your hand his tenderness slowly twists to worry. “Was that okay?” Choso asks somewhat panicked.

You offer him a bright smile and nod. “That was perfect. I’m sure he’ll understand,” you assure him as you grab his hand with your free one to gently massage his palm.

Choso sighs deeply and glances at Yuji, still seeming to be spaced out and distressed on the ground. This time though, without hesitation Choso leaves your side and reaches his little brother.

“Take a breath,” you hear Choso guide Yuji as he presses his hand on his back. “Remember what you were taught. Visualize it. Allow the blood to spread throughout every corner of your body like roots. Visualize an outline of your body made with veins.”

You can’t help but smile in awe as you watch the interaction, as you watch how kind and patient Choso is with Yuji even if this is a moment of distress. You watch him being a caring old brother and once again you’re reassured of the fact that he’ll be a great father, and an even greater partner to raise your family with.

Once again as you watch him help Yuji you can’t help but count yourself lucky for having fate cross your paths.

——

Dear Satoru,

How does one relish in the peace gifted to them after so many died trying to get this far?

I can’t help but feel guilty about being happy and being able to live my life the way I dreamed of. Choso and Shoko tell me I shouldn’t feel bad for the dead anymore, but how can I look at Satori who's a couple of months away from turning 17? How can I look at my twins laughing and playing with their father, my youngest girl Amaterasu clinging onto her father hoping that somehow she could live in his skin so she wouldn’t be too far away from him. How can I watch my youngest son Ryusei get more and more curious about the world without feeling bad for those who sacrificed themselves and couldn’t live past another day of their lives?

I smile, I laugh, I’m grateful, but there’s always that twinge of guilt I feel in my heart—

“Turtle.” A little voice pulls your attention off your paper, and as you look up you see your youngest child Ryusei holding a weird turtle-shaped rock, but his 2-year-old mind has latched on to that word and is labeling everything and everyone turtle because it’s his favorite word of the week along with “no”.

You really hate the “no” phase, all five of your kids had it, so you’re more than glad that Ryusei will be your last child. You can’t handle any more terrible two phases…even if Choso is starting to hint at wanting another one.

You can’t handle it anymore though. As cute as they are and as much as you love newborn phases, all you want now is to just focus on the kids you have and be able to love your man in peace without having any more snotty kids interrupt you—with peace and love.

“No,” you correct Ryusei and take the rock from his hold to look at it because that’s what he wants you to do. “This is a rock. See? It doesn’t have eyes or a shell, silly.”

Ryusei reaches over to take back his rock and studies it as he carries it in his palm. The wheels in his mind spin as he thinks about what you said for a moment before he pouts just like his father, and nonchalantly drops the rock.

“No,” he argues and waddles away,

You hear a giggle behind you and as you slowly look back you catch Satori with her head up and grinning with amusement.

“He showed me his toy and said it was a turtle, when I corrected him he threw it at me and waddled away,” Satori shares between giggles, making you sigh and slouch.

“He’s the most hot-headed out of all of you, I don’t understand why,” you contemplate your child’s behavior.

Satori pushes her sunglasses down to shield her eyes and flashes a grin. “His grandfather. Probably.” She snickers.

“That’s still not funny ten years later,” you grumble and look away, finding the twins, Suki and Tsukuyomi, and your youngest daughter Amaterasu going towards the oceans shore without their father towing behind him, so as curious as to where he went, you drift your eyes away and find him on his feet where they all once were.

“Suki, Tsu, your brother is going over to you, hold his hand,” Choso warns the twins since they’re the oldest, and Amaterasu finds it in herself to argue as if she’s the one that was left in charge of her little brother.

“But the waves are not strong at all!”

She lacks responsibility because she’s the middle child, and she’s never in charge like Satori or the twins, so she’s turned lax.

“It doesn’t matter,” Choso counters his daughter. “He can still stumble.”

“You’re not even in charge Amaterasu,” Tsukuyomi snaps at his sister. “Why are you talking back?”

“I’m just pointing it out!” Amaterasu yells at her brother as she stomps her foot in the water around her ankles��“Gosh…” she trails off and you watch her mouth move as she seems to mumble something under her breath.

You sit back on your hands and watch all four of them with a little smile on your face.

They argue often; all five of them, over little things but they make up like nothing, they apologize quickly and go back to laughing and smiling at each other, and after some desecalations, you can’t help but smile over their bickering because it reminds of you and your brother.

When you were young—no, you argued all the time too, as they do, and made up just as fast. You got older and things happened that kept you two estranged, but you found your way back to each other. You don’t want your children to go through that same strain, but you want them to experience all the good and the bad about having each other. You want them to know that same bliss about having a sibling that you still hold onto all these years later...

You grin and feel tears prick at the corner of your eyes born from joy that you express in your letter.

—but never about my kids. I never feel guilty about having my kids and knowing that joy. They’re my blessings, they’re my everything. They’re the good piece of me, and a piece of my beloved, Choso. They’re even a piece of you, Satoru.

I see you in them all the time, in Suki, Tsukuyomi, and Ryusei’s white hair, in all their unbreakable spirits. So that’s one thing I can never ever be guilty about. Because of them, I feel like I will always carry a piece of you.

Is that cheesy?

Still, I want rid of this guilt annoying my heart like a splinter in your finger that you can’t pull out—

“Look,” Choso pulls you away from your train of thought getting engraved on paper, and first drifts your attention to the shadow he casts over you before you meet his honey-kissed brown eyes looking down at you tenderly—“a mochi I took from Ryu’s snack bag.”

You flash him a smile and take the half he offers you in your mouth. He then takes a seat on the sand next to you and keeps holding your gaze, letting you notice the red tint stamped over his nose and his cheeks.

“Cho,” you point out with your mouth full and lean over to grab his chin. “Did you put sunscreen on your face? You’re getting red.”

Choso blinks and thinks as he keeps looking at you, and when he seems to think back to a specific moment he groans and shakes his head. “Amaterasu needed help putting sunscreen on so I stopped just as I was about to apply some on my face. Sorry.”

You sigh deeply and first finish your mochi before you reach into your bag and pull out a bottle of sunscreen to press some on the tip of your fingers before you lean close to Choso, and gently massage some on his face.

“No matter what you still need to remember to put some on your face. You still burn.” You remind him sweetly.

The corner of his lips pulls to a tender smile as his eyes soften. “Why, when I can have you help me?”

You pause briefly to swoon before you leave a sweet peck on his lips and continue to protect his face from any further burning rays of the sun.

“Do you want some too, Satori?” You tease your teenage daughter in a baby voice.

“No,” she quickly rebuttals. “Thank you. I can put my own on.”

“Oh, but—”

“No,” Satori cuts you off before you can reminisce about her when she was a little girl, making you drop your hands off Choso’s face and pout.

Choso sees your flicker of sadness and strokes your chin.

No matter what though, no one will take away the sadness at watching your little girl only get older—it’s not a bad sadness you lament, you wish for her to only get older, but there’s always something about watching your kids get older that just gets you a little sad.

“She’s always the one arguing and always the one holding his hand,” Choso muses.

You follow his line of gaze and smile softly at the sight of Amaterasu pulling Ryusei up with her to jump over the small wave unfurling over the sand.

The little boy giggles and watches the next wave approaching before glancing at his sister as he anticipates the next wave he’ll jump over.

“Trying telling her that,” you quip lightheartedly.

Choso chuckles, making you look at him and only grin in admiration as his shoulders shake, and the sun makes his brown eyes twinkle as well as highlight that infinite joy he always has when watching his children just doing their own thing.

He always looks at his kids with pride, no matter what nothing takes away that love he looks at his kids with because he never wants his kids to feel the same way his own father made him feel; unloved and unwanted. It’s what makes Choso an excellent father, and it’s why you love having the honor of being Choso’s partner and having him be the father of your kids.

And it’s while you admire him and think about his big heart and the life you’re lucky to share, that you realize the answer to your question, going unaware that even after 10 years Choso has the need to steal glimpses at you to engrave every detail of your face as if it was the first time laying his eyes on you.

….I get it now. The answer to my guilt is living my life for those who died fighting. I’ll love for them and live so their sacrifice isn’t in vain.

Love, your beloved sister.

——

*2 MONTHS AGO*

“What is Gojo’s sister to you?”

“To me?”

The camera focuses on Yuji Itadori holding a half-bitten sandwich, and the person behind the camera nods in confirmation, making the pink-haired boy wipe his mouth and hum as he thinks before he sits up and responds honestly.

“Well to me she once was someone I had a crush on, I mean did you see her in magazines and on runways?!” He smirks and laughs lightly. “But now, she’s like my bodyguard. Gojo—oh our teacher, Gojo asked her to protect me from the people after me, so she turned out to be that which is cool. But you know how they say you should never meet your idols?” He sighs and takes a bite from his sandwich. “Yeah, that suits my situation…” He trails off and his eyes widen with panic, but before he can seem to correct himself the camera cuts off and displays three other students.

“Who is she to me?” Maki Zen’in repeats the question and scoffs with displeasure.

“Salmon!” Inumaki exclaims, making Panda nod as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“She tried killing us last year,” the black and white bear shares with a huff. “And she’s been the only person who’s been able to deflect Inumaki’s technique.”

“I heard she killed some members of her family a few years back,” Maki cuts in and makes the camera shift to focus on her. “She’s also a stain on the Gojo clan. The one fallen from grace, or so they say. I would say I admire her but she tried to kill us so she’s a killer.”

The clip cuts off and now they’re back inside facing Yuji Itadori with his sandwich and a panicked reaction.

“…not that I don’t think she’s not strong!” Yuji finally gets to explain himself before someone gets the wrong idea. “She’s strong and cool! And very beautiful, in Iike, an ethereal kind of way, like if you tell me to think of royalty, that’s who I picture her to be. But I guess it suits her considering who they say she is in the sorcerer community.” He says and flashes the camera a smile, leading to a smooth transition to some courtyard of some shopping center with a short-haired girl in the center.

“How many of these questions are you going to ask me?” Nobara Kugisaki asks as she puts on some sunglasses to block away the sun from shining in her eyes. “Anyway,” she speaks softly and with no ounce of deceit. “She’s someone I can say I admire regardless of all I hear about her because she’s proof that you can be both strong and a woman. She’s proof that we as women in the sorcerer society don’t have to fit into a stupid stereotype. Plus she dresses so cool even when she’s out on missions with Itadori, I want to dress like her.”

There wasn’t even a second of stepping into the dark side of your character, despite all that’s said about you, Nobara spoke from her heart and never thought of holding back to fit in with what others had to say about you.

The same could be said about Kento Nanami, albeit he might have some bias for you.

“First off,” Nanami directs at the camera even if watches the road ahead of him. “She has a name, she’s not called Gojo’s sister,” he scolds the interviewer and instantly counters by saying your full name to the camera before dipping into the question. “And she’s my one and only best friend, there’s no one I trust more than her…” he trails off to push his glasses up his nose and watch the road as he seems lost in thought.

The video may display a few seconds of passing time, but in truth, Nanami took a lot longer than that to continue, and even then he sounds quite pensive when he speaks about you.

“Besides being strong, and a bit egotistical like her brother, she’s extremely loyal, there’s no one you’d want more fighting beside you in a tough situation than her. She’s really a force to be reckoned with,” he says and finally glances at the camera with his eyebrows narrowed.

“Should you really be recording while I’m driving—”

The video is cut off and lastly, there’s one more clip left of a tall man with white hair and dark shades on his face.

“Well as everyone knows she’s my sister!” Satoru says in an almost teasing manner. “My little sister. She’s the only sibling I have, and you know being raised in an important clan like mine brings a lot of responsibility, but she made it all tolerable…” he smiles softly ahead and then he can’t help but smirk.

“I’m strong, the strongest there is, but,” he snickers. “I wouldn't go messing with her. There’s a reason she's a special grade, but she’ll be a pain in your ass, trust me. I wouldn’t underestimate her,” he trails on softly, and if anyone who really knew him heard him, they’d even say that he sounds full of admiration talking about his little sister. They’d also be able to see the softness painted on his face, but he has a good way to mask that to look smug in front of the camera.

“Oh!” He exclaims and claps his hands before he stops and turns, making the camera turn too to face him directly. Albeit he then surprises the camera as he leans in close as if the speakers or the camera wouldn’t capture what he has to say. “Despite what she wants you to believe she’s not scary. Don’t believe that crap,” he laughs and turns the camera off forcing the interview about you to end.

——

*NOW*

“Well,” there’s no avoiding it now or a continuous chance to be a backseat watcher. “Looks like it’s almost my turn…” you trail off and gulp before turning away from the disaster Sukuna and Maki are leaving in their fight.

You’d like to say you’re heading to this fight completely fearless, but your trembling hands and your pounding heart say otherwise.

“No one would blame you if you chose not to fight,” Yuji suddenly interjects, sounding like his big brother. “You have a big reason to stay behind.”

You blink in disbelief and slowly lift your head to watch him watching his hands turned to red claws. He doesn’t look up to meet your gaze when he feels it boring in him, instead, he watches his fists as if trying to find a fault in them.

“I’d blame myself,” you tell him as you approach him. “I’m strong and I’m powerful, but besides that, I’m fighting for something much bigger than myself.” You come to a stop and cast a shadow over his body hunched on the ground, and raise your hand to clutch onto the heart locket Choso gave you, the one that holds a picture of Nanako and Mimiko.

“Sukuna took something from me too,” you whisper and feel your fury boiling inside, but you also feel grief you have yet to really let your heart feel. “He took the girls who taught me how to love full heartedly, he took the girls who made me a mother. What mother would I be if I didn't try and get revenge for what he did? They were my daughters and he took them away.”

You let out a shaky breath, but you drop the tears that came with it. Instead, you actually proceed to meet Yuji’s brown eyes as he finally lifts his head.

“Oh,” he whispers shamefully. “That’s right. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head and crouch down to be at his level. “Keep your head up, kid. He hasn’t broken your spirit yet. You’ll break his. He may be a monster, but there’s still something in there you can crush. I know you’ll find it. You’re strong and brave, and you have a good heart.”

Yuji raises his head and swallows thickly, he parts his lips and seems to search for something within you. When he can’t seem to find what he’s looking for he sighs and mutters. “How did you do it? Find the strength to keep fighting after losing so much?”

“My daughter,” you bring up with hesitation but find it in yourself to try and find something he can relate to. “Considering you don’t have kids, then I’ll say this. I have faith in myself. It gets shaken, but it’s reliable. You have that too, that unbreakable faith. I see it.”

Yuji’s eyes soften and his chest rises as he draws in a deep breath. When his chest falls a half smile tugs on the corner of his lips. “Thank you,” he says hushedly.

You flash him a smile and gently pat his shoulder before you stand to your given height to face Choso who refuses to look at you, but still hangs onto every word you just told his brother.

“Cho,” you whisper and close the gap left between you to grab his arm crossed over his chest to turn him to face you. “Don’t be mad. We talked about this.”

Choso keeps his gaze pierced on the ground, so you lift your hands to grab his face and tilt his head up so you can meet those eyes you love so much.

“You can go pull me out of the fight if I get hurt,” you try to assure him, but his dark eyebrows pinch together and his eyes pierce into you before he retorts.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

You sigh and he finally unfolds his arms to clutch onto yours. “I can’t be okay with you going to risk your life,” he spills out what he had been keeping inside for so long. “I was okay with you facing my father because he was weaker than you, but Sukuna? He can kill you before I even have a chance to react. How do you expect me to be okay with that?”

You shake your head and counter softly. “I don’t expect you to be okay with it, I’m not okay with you being here either, but what choice do we have? And you heard me just now, my reasons to be here and fight him. You were with me the day I found them, and you were with me every day after that as I’ve mourned them. You know the thirst for revenge too, and you know it’s impossible to sit idly by until you know you’ve gotten justice for the ones you lost.”

Choso's lips curl to a deep displeased frown, and his eyes drop before he groans out of frustration because he knows you’re right. He’s known it, but he doesn’t want to see you go.

“I’ll be okay,” you reassure him as you tilt your head so you can keep holding his gaze, so you can keep holding onto that warmth and keep it within you when you go out there and fight. “I’ll make it back. The twins will be okay. I’ll fight like hell to stay alive, I swear.”

Choso blinks repeatedly to avoid crying, but he can hardly stay strong so he lets his forehead fall on yours, while his grip trembles.

“Please don’t scare me like you did when we fought Noritoshi. Stay alive, I need you.”

Those words are so full of fear for your life, yet so genuine and full of nothing but love. It makes it hard to leave, but you can’t just stay back, you have to fight at least once. You don’t want to die so you’ll fight hard to avoid that fate for him, and for Satori waiting for you to reunite. But if life takes you down that path you can’t stop it, you’ll only hope you were able to give everyone a chance to defeat that great evil.

“I’ll make it back,” you assure Choso against his lips. “To you, my love. I love you.” You whisper with honey dripping off every word and lean in to press a gentle and lingering kiss on his soft and wet lips refusing to let you go. He keeps your lips captured until you gently push back, but even then he grabs your hand with his unbeatable strength and pulls you back towards him.

“Choso,” you warn him softly.

“Just,” he interjects softly but full of desperation. “Let me…” he trails off and lowers his gaze before he presses his palm against your belly.

He doesn’t say anything, but Yuji notices the silence and looks over at his brother finding comfort in the fact that his kids he made with you are safely growing inside you. Yuji takes note of his brother's hand clinging onto your arm, hoping that will be enough to keep you with him forever. He sees his brother's faint smile that mirrors yours because even if the babies are still too small to move, their mere presence is enough to make you both content.

Yuji takes note of the both of you desperately trying to find any excuse to stick close to each other, and can’t help but think that you’re both brave for coming out to fight even if you’re waiting for something so precious that deserves both parents to live without a burden of fighting this nasty monster. Lastly, Yuji watches you and that smile that decorated your face fade before you force yourself to pull away.

“Strong heart,” you try to give Choso courage before you pull something out of your pocket. You don’t show him what you have, instead, you grab his hand and place the object on his palm before pushing his hand towards his heart.

Choso refuses to identify the object just yet to be able to hold your gaze for as long as he can. Even when you look out at the city past the rooftop you’re on and see Sukuna knock Maki out with a black flash, he refuses to lose sight of your beautiful face, hoping that some way, somehow, that would keep you with him where he could protect you.

“Strong heart,” you repeat tenderly as you tear your gaze away from the tragic scene and meet the worried but sweet gaze of the man you love. “Keep it safe until I come back.”

You leave Choso one last kiss before you walk back. When you’re on the edge of the rooftop, when you feel nothing but the air of the world below on the heel of your feet, you force yourself to tear your gaze away and finally give your back to Choso and Yuji before you can stay, or Choso could force you to stay by his side.

And it’s only once your figure nor your face are painted before his very eyes that Choso pulls back his fist and opens his hand, seeing the little red and orange glass swan he had given you so long ago.

You had left a piece of your love behind that he could hold onto while you fought bravely, and so knew that you meant it when you said you'd go back to him because it’s true, you do want to go back to him. You won’t die against Sukuna, that’s not your heart's desire. You’ll fight fiercely because he took something from you.

He took Nanako and Mimiko. He took the girls who taught you how to love full-heartedly. He took the girls who made you a mother. He took your daughters. He took your daughters who loved you unconditionally. He took them away from you and didn’t stop there. He continued to break your heart by taking your brother too.

He was your best friend. Your beloved brother and he killed him too!

You’d like to fight Sukuna because he took Satori’s uncle, but you’re more selfish than that because Satoru was your brother first. You’ve loved him all your life and she’s only known him for a year of hers, so no, you aren't fighting for justice for her uncle's death, you’re fighting for justice for your brother's death.

Your brother, your daughters. Sukuna took them away. He’s a monster and you’ll kill him, or you’ll make him feel a fraction of what he made you feel. You’ll burn him so he can feel that agony he put you through even if it means your death.

Luckily he doesn’t notice you towering over him, he’s too lost in his glory after scoring a black flash against a teenage girl to notice you. Besides your cursed energy isn’t as strong and flashy as Satoru’s or Okkotsu’s, and for once you’re grateful for it because you can jump off the roof towering over Sukuna without getting noticed. At least for a few seconds that is.

When you get close, when your shadow casts on the ground around him you see him turn his neck and lift his head to catch what’s approaching him, but you force the elements to your side and use the air as your dance floor to twirl around Sukuna’s head before he has the chance to see you with either of his four eyes. Once you're behind him again you let gravity pull you down, and wrap your legs around his neck, and slap your hands on his eyes.

“I’ll take you to hell,” you sneer and light your hands on fire to burn his eyes.

Sukuna quickly throws his hand back and grabs you by the back of your head, but you stab your burning fingers in his deformed eyes and burn your fire fiercely and so bright that your fury is as clear as the burning sun in the sky, causing the giant beast to sneer before he digs his claws in the back of your neck and finally rips you off his back and hurls you off him.

You manage to use the air to catch yourself before you can hit the ground, and swiftly flip in the air to land with both feet on the ground.

“You,” Sukuna snarls.

You stand up smoothly and face him with a menacing glare. “Me,” you mock him.

Smoke rises off his eyes burnt shut, making his optical advantage nothing more than another wound he can’t heal. Which inflates your ego, you do admit.

Seeing the great Sukuna wounded because of you makes you stupidly proud.

“I was wondering when you’d show up,” he doesn’t show any sign of defeat, and why would he? He just rolls his shoulders back and raises his nose further in the sky, casting his menacing glare on your delicate soul.

“I thought you’d be mewling over…” he trails off and taps his chin. “Who was it now?”

He’s just trying to tick you off. You can’t let him get to your head.

“I’ll burn you Sukuna Ryōmen,” you try to project your anger cool, you need to stay level-headed.

“Ah,” he snaps his fingers and lays his eyes on you. “Nanako, and Mimiko.”

You dig the heel of your feet into the ground and swallow back thickly at the sound of their precious names coming out of his dirty and cursed mouth.

“Oh, don’t forget Satoru Gojo too,” he brings up unbothered but with a taunting look pierced on you. “Dead brother, dead husband, and dead daughters.” He snickers under his breath and flashes off his wicked smirk.

And how can you stay so level-headed when he plays so carelessly when he tosses out the names of the people you love as if they meant nothing?

They meant the world. They were the world to you and he killed them. He took them away from you. You can’t behave so rationally, you can’t act with both mind and heart when it’s your heart that mourns and weeps.

You can’t.

You have to act with your blinding anger and with your agonizing grief. You have to kill him.

“I’ll kill you bastard!” You cry out fiercely.

Sukuna throws his arms out and begins to laugh manically. “Show me what you got oh Fallen One!” He bellows.

You blast off the ground and fly toward him with both fists basking with fire, and fury burning in your red-orange eyes.

However, instead of barreling your ignited fists in him, you use your cursed energy to manipulate the ground beneath his feet and rip off a piece of the ground to blast him to the sky.

You quickly follow him by meeting him in the sky and bring your hands together to display a dangerous hand sign.

“I am death. I am the One Fallen from Grace, and today Sukuna…you will know pain,” you grimace and pierce your glare into the depths of his soul to chant. “Domain expansion; StormsEnd!”

Tagged- @deniseabad1928 @secondary-character-25 @starlightanyaaa @notsaelty @d4rno @moonnime @kodzukein @yozora7154 @heijihattorisgf @elegantweirdorchest @natakina

A/N- Flashforward or an illusion? Whatever it is, we need more of Choso and his babies.

28 notes · View notes

the-kr8tor · 20 hours

Note

KATY THINK OF THIS (IM THAT ONE ANON THAT SAID ABOUT RUNAWAY PRINCESS X PIRATE HOBIE AND I WANNA ADD TO IT)

what if she’s running because she’s getting married to this shitty aristocracy that her family arranged and she running away from that and ends up meeting ways with a pirate. Hobie probably doesn’t know she’s this princess and falls in love but news breaks out as always she gets found and forced to marry that aristocracy and Hobie’s basically gets betrayed. (Live laugh love)

Btw other anon can use this idea or make their own version

Aahhhhh anon I'm so sorry but this took on a life of its own 😭😭😭 but I ended it open ended just in case someone requests something in this au!! So sorry that this pivoted from the prompt, ly thank you for requesting ❤️❤️❤️

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x Princess! reader

Word count: 2.3k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), CW blood, CW violence.

A/N: If you want more princess! Reader x Pirate! Hobie, @pinksugarscrub has a few fics with them!

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Marriage, it's supposed to be a happy occasion. One where it's supposed to be filled with laughter and dancing with your family and your new family. Looking forward to your new life with the love of your life. Not whatever the hell your father arranged for you.

As you hide from your handmaiden below deck together with your dowry which is basically a barn full of chickens and cows, their noises hide your frustrated groans from trying to rip your gown from your body. You've had enough of the silky fabric and its luscious lace, you've hatched a plan, a plan to escape from the loveless marriage that will fall on you once you step out of your father's ship. You were not dubbed ‘the realm's problem princess’ for nothing.

Whilst your sisters were called ‘the realm's delight’ or ‘the realm's most beautiful’, but, as the seventh daughter out of twelve siblings, you were not granted a title befitting of you. Even though you're not the heir or even the spare, you were given something much more priceless than a piece of land or castle, no, you were given freedom. Freedom to whisk away every night to mingle with the common folk, freedom to run around the castle without getting reprimanded by your royal parents. Why would they even blink an eye at your so-called debauchery when you're the seventh and not the eldest or even the youngest?

But that sense of freedom that they have given you has now backfired on them. You absolutely refused to marry a stranger from another country, and for political gain nonetheless. You fought everyone to not be sent away from your home. You kicked knights in their steel clad groins, you punched footmen right under their chins. The last straw apparently was when you tried to stow away on a merchant ship whilst you were disguised as a common boy, to which your father and his adviser did not appreciate.

“it’s for the good of the realm,” they said, “I secured an advantageous marriage for you” they said. Well they can shove that marriage contract up where the sun doesn't shine. If your father's adviser was so keen on marrying the strange royal then he should just marry him instead.

You grumble obscenities under your breath, a chicken tilts its head at your frustrations. The fabric of the skirt finally rips away from your hips, leaving you in only your petticoat and corset. A locket tumbles off from the sewn pocket inside the skirt. You almost forgot about the damn thing in your haste to get away.

Grabbing the golden locket, you don't even sneak one last peek at the painting inside, a painting that depicts your so-called fiancé. He's not ugly per se, but he seems…boring. Too boring for you at least. All his correspondence to you were lackluster, his poems lacking heart and character. You surmise that it was written by someone else ever since you've heard rumours of his illiteracy.

You huff, throwing it on the pile of fabric. A cow moos next to you, and you spare her a glare.

“This is for the best, Belinda.” You've named her after your handmaiden. Belinda has been your only friend since your journey. “I don't want to get married off to some strange man, to live in a strange land. And to never see my siblings, not even during the holidays!” You put on trousers that you've stolen from one of the sailors accompanying you. “I'd rather risk it out in the sea than be a wife.” Miraculously, the trousers fit perfectly. “Finally, something right goes my way today. Let's hope this luck continues.”

As you say those words, the ship lunges harshly to the side, knocking you off your feet then flinging you against the hardwood. Vision swirling, the poor animals cry out in their cages, you think they're crying out based on their frantics faces since your ears seem to only hear that high pitched ringing sound.

Dust falls on you like snowflakes, looking above, the dust comes from the deck. Before you could stand up, the ship lunges once again. You slide on the floor, together with the crates and cages.

Your vision finally clears moments before Belinda's cage smashes into you. Frantically, you crawl aside, the metal cage missing your foot by only a few inches.

“Are you hurt?!” You ask the cow as if she can talk back. Belinda moos loudly, you now notice your hearing coming back. And you just now notice the warm crimson sliding down your forehead and down to your lashes. Blinking away, you wipe it, blood coating your palms, heart pumping rapidly, you panic. “Oh, shit.”

You need help, but you backtrack as the sounds from above get louder and louder as your hearing finally normalizes. Screams and gunshots can be heard, cannons are going off from your left, and you're absolutely petrified.

You just want to go home. This isn't exactly what you pictured when your brothers tell you of their feats while at sea.

The animals in their cages cry out in the same panic that swells in your chest. If you want to run away, they must want the same thing. In your fear-addled brain, you grab the set of keys that are set on the wall to open each of their cages. The chickens cluck and scamper away the second you open their cage, while the bigger animals are much more apprehensive. You coach them out of their enclosure, Belinda is the first one out, and the rest follows.

Something hits the hull of the ship, the sheer force knocking you to your knees. A split second later, you feel water under your trousers. Looking over your shoulders, you see water seeping through the gaping hole. And you notice that you're now alone below deck.

Trudging the rising water towards the stairs, someone familiar calls after you, her voice is hoarse yet you can recognize it even in your sleep.

“Princess!” Belinda calls, the real Belinda.

“I'm here!” You yell back, the water now reaching to your hips.

She quickly comes down the stairs, she gasps, eyes wide with panic. “My girl! Come hurry!” Hand reaching towards you, you thank your older brother for teaching you how to swim.

You finally reach her before the water could drown you. Belinda sighs in relief as she yanks you away from the freezing water.

“What were you thinking!” She roams her eyes towards your clothes, or the lack of it. Half hugging you, shielding you away from wandering eyes, she guides you towards the deck.

“I didn't cause this!” You defend yourself, shivering from the cold, regretting ripping off your warm gown.

“I know you didn't, stupid girl! We're getting sacked by pirates!” Belinda practically screams in your ears, and your blood runs cold. She groans when she sees the blood coating half of your face. She murmurs something about getting sacked once she gets home. Or was it axed?

“Pirates?!” You remember all the stories your older brothers told you. ‘Be wary of the sea, for they hold sinister beings’ they said, and you thought they were talking about sea monsters. You grew up, and now you know they weren't exactly talking about mythical beings. “Oh sh–” Belinda side eyes you. “Shucks!” In your peripheral, you spot cow belinda eating cabbage inside the galley.

Your handmaiden leads you down the hallway, “we need to hide you!” Her body shakes from fear at what they would do to a princess like you.

“What about you?” And you fear for her safety.

“I'll be alright, princess, I'll live but you might not.”

“What the fuck!” You let out not because of what she said but because of the large man waiting at the end of the corridor.

“We're dead.” Belinda says nonchalantly, as if this was a regular occurrence for her.

“You the princess?” He asks gruffly, his cutlass shines from the sun beaming through the window. The scars on his bare chest and the tattoo on his neck scares the living out of you.

“...no?” You say meekly. “You're on the wrong ship, mister. No princess here!” Your voice squeaks.

“This is ‘the raven's beak’, right?” He raises a thick eyebrow.

“...no” a big fat lie on your end that you hope he did not see through you.

He looks down at you, you can practically see the cogs in his head turn.

“We'll be going now, sir.” Belinda chuckles nervously. Just as you're about to escape the pirate, he grabs your bare shoulders. Your handmaiden immediately takes your hand.

“Hold on, you're not going anywhere. That corset is too pretty and intricate for some wench.” He drags you away whilst Belinda tries her best to yank you away, and in turn she gets dragged too. Her heels scrape against the wood, her face turning red from frustration.

“A wench!” You scoff, fruitlessly elbowing him. “Ow!” Your elbow hurts, it's like you punched a wall.

The stranger chuckles, “Time to meet the captain.”

“Wait, are you going to kidnap me?!”

“Of course we will.” He says matter of factly. Belinda continues to hold your hand but she has given up from trying to take you away from the large man. “For ransom.”

You burst into laughter, the man raises a brow at the sudden outburst. Belinda cocks her head at your strange behavior.

“Oh that's funny!” You continue to giggle even when you finally reach the deck. The sun hits your skin, warming your wet clothes. The smell of gunpowder makes your nose itch.

Both pirates and captured sailors look at you having a laughing fit. Your eyes water, and your chest is hurting from all the laughing. The man sets you down right next to the bound sailors. Head in your hands, giggling subsiding, fear encapsulates you again, and now you refuse to look up.

“Havin' a giggle, eh?” A voice asks.

“Yep.” You pop the p in your mouth, face still hidden from your captors.

“Is this fun to you, princess?” A feminine voice pipes up from your right.

“Not one bit!”

“She doesn't look like a princess, you sure it's her?” Another unknown voice asks.

“Not sure, Pav.” You feel someone crouch in front of you. The leather from his clothes squeaks, metals clinking together as he moves. “Maybe if the princess graces us with her beautiful face we can identify her?”

“Nope, not doing that.”

“C’mon, love, we're not going to hurt you. Your father wouldn't pay us if we did.”

“It's funny that you think my father will actually pay the ransom.” Your voice is still muffled by your hands.

“Why's that?” He asks softer.

“He doesn't like me, if you got one of my brothers then he will surely pay you.” You take your hands away, eyes going wide for a second once your vision is blessed by the handsome pirate. Clearing your throat, fixing your composure, you ignore the smirk on his pierced lips. “Y-you’re shit out of luck because you got me instead.”

“Nah,” he tilts his head with a smile. “I think I got lucky.”

Your cheeks are suddenly warm, you don't think it's from the sun. Hands clammy, you nervously laugh.

Surprisingly, he laughs with you. “Captain Hobie Brown,” he introduces himself. Your instincts kick in, but before you could introduce yourself, he smiles genuinely at you. A smile that has his eyes crinkling in the corners, a smile that weirdly fills you with comfort. “I know who you are, princess. And I know your father will pay the ransom.”

You knit your eyebrows. “How would you know?”

“Easy, you're his favourite.”

“Bullshit, now that's funny.”

“A princess' face but with the mouth of a sailor. I think you'd fit right in with us, hm?” Hobie takes his coat off to drape it on your bare shoulders. “Your sailors were frothing at the mouth.”

“W-what?” Sure enough, when you turn your head to the side, you see your father's men quickly avert their eyes.

“Why don't we strike a deal?” His grey eyes twinkles in the sun. It reminds you of when the light hits the water just right whenever you look out your bedroom window.

“Do not, princess! He's a liar! All pirates are.” Belinda scoffs at the pirate right before a blond woman stuffs her mouth with a piece of cloth.

Despite the warning, you're curious. “What deal?”

“Come with us,” he whispers lowly, just for your ears to hear. “Let's deceive your father and your fiancé, we get their money and you get out of your marriage. Easy.”

“That doesn't sound easy.”

“Nothing in life is.”

“How would you do it?” You roam your eyes around his face for any clue if he's lying. You don't find any.

“Come aboard, and you'll find out.” Hobie stands up, hand stretched out for you.

“Sounds like a trap.” You look up with a growing smile. “But it's better than getting married.” To Belinda's disapproval, you take his hand.

“Good choice—” You pull at his hand hard, eyes threatening, grip getting stronger, stronger than a princess should.

“Don’t fuck with me, Hobie. Trust me, whatever you're planning, let’s hope my fiancé doesn't actually care about me.” Something passes by your eyes. “If he does, if what you tell me is true, then my father's army will be the least of your worries.”

A grin spreads across his face, the silver he wears is glinting just like his grey eyes. “I know of your fiancé, and your warmongering brothers.” He leans closer to your bewildered face, “do you think I need the money? When I have them?” Leaning away, he takes a step back to show you his fleet, a fleet that could even rival your father's and your fiancé’s combined. Their flags wave in the wind, red sails dancing in the breeze. “What do you say, love? Would you rather get married, or stay and listen to my plan?”

You grin back, “I've heard of you,” the infamous pirate captain smugly smiles. “Let's hear your plans then, captain.”

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disasterbuck · 2 days

Text

WIP W Tuesday ? (I don't need an excuse to post, do I?)

sorry but I fell in love tonight

Sitting on Eddie's couch with his head on his best friend's shoulder, Buck was so comfortable he never wanted to move ever again. He'd come over to hang out for dinner and that quickly turned into the whole evening. Once Christopher had gone to bed, Buck and Eddie put on a show that was a bit too mature for Chris to watch and settled in together cozily.

As the second episode they'd watched ended, Eddie reached out to click back so it wouldn't auto play the next one. Buck swallowed a sigh; he wasn't ready to leave yet.

"Are you asleep?" Eddie whispered, and Buck realised that Eddie couldn't see his face from this angle.

Should he pretend to be asleep? What would Eddie do if he did? Would he stay there, letting Buck lean on him all night, or would he gently move him off and get a blanket? More likely, Eddie would shake him awake and tell him it was time to go home.

"Yeah," Buck said softly. "I'm awake."

Eddie snorted. "Are you sure? Cause that wasn't my question."

"What? Oh." Buck picked his head up from Eddie's shoulder and rubbed at his eyes. "Sorry. Guess I was drifting off a bit there."

"It's okay," Eddie said softly. "I guess you probably wanna head home now, huh?"

"Sure, if you want me to," Buck said, stretching his arms above his head.

"What if I don't want you to?"

Buck lowered his arms slowly and then turned to look at his friend. Had he heard him correctly? Eddie was looking at him cautiously, expectantly.

"I can stay if you want," Buck said.

"Sure," Eddie agreed with a nod. "Probably best not to go driving when you're this tired, anyway."

"Right." Buck looked away. Of course Eddie was just wanting to keep him safe. "Good thinking."

A hand touched his arm and Buck looked down in surprise, then up at Eddie. The other man was looking at him with an expression Buck didn't think he'd ever seen before. There was something open and vulnerable about it. It felt… significant.

Eddie swallowed before he spoke. "I'm in love with you."

Buck felt the floor slip out from underneath him. His heart lurched in his chest and he felt dizzy.

"Sorry," Eddie added.

"What?" Buck blurted.

"I'm sorry," Eddie repeated, pulling his hand back. "I just… I don't know. I felt like I had to say it. Like you deserved to know."

Buck felt like his body was on fire. He wanted to throw himself onto Eddie, but he didn't want to terrify him. And Eddie already looked pretty terrified.

"Why are you sorry?" Buck asked, because he felt that that was a pretty important point to clarify.

"Because… This could make things awkward," Eddie mumbled.

Now it was Buck's turn to snort. Eddie looked up at him sharply, scowling, and Buck knew he felt like he was being laughed at so he quickly held his hands up.

"Sorry, no," he said. "Just… I'm in love with you too."

+ tagging people for the first time 🥰

😘 @dluoser @taketheplanspinitsideways @loudenthusiastic @wallywise @mxrcjqckspnchqsc @i-am-married-to-my-fandom-blog @therosesaredying @stillfuckingtired @classtrialguru @speggle @awesome-igi @natnuszsstuff @olliesrants @crazyfangirlallert @delirium1995 @brah3280 @meanceclosetohell @anythingeverythingallofthetime @izzysbeans

#buddie #buddie fic #buck x eddie #evan buckley/eddie diaz #buddie 911 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #current wip #wip #wip wednesday #disaster writes #911 fanfic #usermoonsharky

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etherealily · 2 days

Text

𝙒𝙃𝙄𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙎𝙃 // Nate Jacobs.

Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Dark. SFW, but discretion advised.

Cliffhanger or series? Haven't decided. Repost because of reasons.

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc.: You're needed. Now.

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🏈⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

It's not like you even knew Nate.

You knew of him, sure, quarterback and shit, but still, it was unlikely your paths would ever cross.

Until they did.

Until he started following you on Instagram.

That shit... was so unbelievably odd that you almost blocked him because you thought it was a fake account. But then you saw the mutuals. Holy shit. This was legit.

The fact that his account was private didn't surprise you. Yours was public because you had nothing to post and his was private because he had everything to hide.

You sent him a request. No biggie. I mean, he had to accept, right? He was the one who followed you first - it was only fair. And if it took too long, then you could always unsend it, yeah? Yeah.

It didn't take too long. It barely took three minutes.

Okay. Cool. Weird but cool.

The next day at school, it was normal. You didn't acknowledge him, and he didn't acknowledge you. An average social media interaction. Good.

--------

Come Friday evening, you decided that watching Maddy cheer was a little less important than your deadline and building your portfolio.

She absolutely supported you (rolled her eyes and said 'whatever, nerd. You still love me, right?') but was a little upset about it (pouted and called you a cunt).

Three hours went by, and you surprised yourself with the amount of work you were getting done. This is great. Friday evening well spent. Work a bit more, and then-

Nate Jacobs tagged you in a Close Friends story.

Close Friends? Tagged? NATE JACOBS?

Okay, one : no fucking way were you on his Close Friends.

Two : there were virtually zero pictures of the two of you, so tagging you was moot.

Three : there was supposed to be a game starting about fifteen minutes from now, Blackhawks versus whatever pretentious team they were going to beat, so why the fuck was he even online?

(Oh, yeah, the Blackhawks were absolutely fucking awesome.)

The story was only text. Text and nothing more.

Y/N, accept my message request. Now. I am not fucking around.

What message request? WHAT the fuck was going on?

You frowned, immediately scrolling over to messages. Shit. There was a request.

A picture, along with six other messages.

This was so strange. It was especially strange that he found the time to text you, when he was supposed to be practicing throwing the old pigskin around for the victory of his school. But text you he did. As if him following you wasn't enough to give you whiplash. "Yo."

"You're not here." No shit, Sherlock.

"You should be."

What the hell was that supposed to mean? This was the most excruciatingly awkward interaction you'd ever had.

"You should be here. Come."

Did he think he was super macho with all this mysterious, vague, one-word bullshit he was spewing? You know what, you'd actually bet your entire school tuition he did. But you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of asking why.

"U don't just send requests to random people. Don't act like you don't know me. Don't ignore my texts."

"I'm fucking losing it. Come now or else."

WHAT. THE. FUCK.

This was the most random thing to ever happen to you. Nate Jacobs, some random jock you never even said one word to, was texting you as if you had been best friends since two years old and you had always been all rah-rah-go-team for him.

You were almost scared to open the picture. Instagram asked you if you were sure. Once, twice. You should have listened. But you didn't, and you were about to face the consequences.

Red. That was the first thing you saw, and the first thing that had ever grossed you out enough to physically throw your phone away.

So much red.

Above the red, concealed almost cruelly, was a black box with white text in it. For a moment, your eyes were overwhelmed, so overwhelmed with the monstrosity in front of you that you couldn't even begin to comprehend what the words meant. You picked your phone back up, squinting your eyes and blocking out the rest.

He must have noticed you accepted his request, because you saw 'Typing...' pop up way too fast for him not to have been waiting.

"I'll cut deeper if you don't show up."

Nate Jacobs was a cruel and manipulative bastard of a man who you would happily let die.

But not like this.

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🏈⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

You glanced at the screen and then back at the road, from time to time. There was no indication that he was typing. The 'online' sign still stayed. Okay. So he either just threw his phone away while still on your chat or he was about to-

Nate Jacobs started an audio call.

Clearly tonight wasn't going to be the night you stayed in and finished all your assignments, like you'd decided.

"Pick up or I'll fucking kill you."

Yup, that sounded about right.

You laughed, incredulously. The genuine threat wasn't lost on you, but what else does one do in this situation besides laugh at the absurdity of it all?

Better safe than sorry. You swiped up.

"Y/N, please just come."

It felt so weird to hear him say your name. It felt even weirder to hear him say 'please'.

"Why?"

"You need to be here." His voice was unwavering.

"Look, Jacobs, I'm sorry, but I have projects and assignments to work on. Not to mention, my portfolio-"

You wanted to see how far you could take it. He couldn't hear your car's sounds, and he couldn't possibly track your location, so according to him, you were still sitting at home, petulantly.

If he was joking, he'd just cuss you out drunkenly. If he wasn't, he'd... keep begging.

"Jesus fuck, Y/N, just come!"

"I can't. I'm sorry."

Keeping your calm was the best thing you'd ever done for yourself, the greatest form of self-care you could give yourself, because Nate Jacobs sensing nervousness was like sharks smelling blood in the water. Quick and bad.

"I have important shit, too, you know? Scouts are here, Y/N, please!"

"Look-"

"Coach, I know, just five more minutes - FUCK, Y/N, you gotta come.", he pleaded, his tone becoming far too pathetic to brush off.

"Why?"

"Why? Whaddayamean why?", he huffed out, frustrated, as if you were supposed to know this already.

2 + 2. What galaxy we live in. The colour of the sky. Why you were needed at the game. According to this asshole, all these things were common knowledge.

"I will cut deeper."

"Stop bullshitting, Jacobs."

You hoped to god that your voice didn't betray your bewilderment. This better be a sick fucking joke.

"I'm cutting."

"Stop."

"Coach says the five minutes are up, but I won't play without you here."

A video. SHIT. FUCK.

"What the fuck is your problem?!"

Actually, no. This better not just be a joke, because if the entire school was in on this shit, you would end up cutting him.

The grunts of pain and sharp inhales from his side of the call got more and more grotesque as you pulled into the school parking lot.

The school had an unsettling vibrancy to it after hours, and this was only exacerbated by the fact that you were supposedly the cause for a boy to slice through his own skin. It shouldn't have seemed this vibrant, this overwhelming, this vivid, this.... bright, but it did. The world moved at an eerily quick pace, like a carnival ride on LSD.

As you ran across the parking lot and gripped the gate to the stadium and basically swung right past it, you finally realized how fucking loud a crowd could be.

It was like they knew that their QB might be bleeding out because of you, because they seemed to scream loud enough to torture you for eternity.

Immediately manhandled by Chris McKay -another jock you had absolutely no connection to, but who seemed to have a very personal grudge against you-, you were pushed out of the locker rooms as quickly as you came in. Fuck's sake.

"Let me go , McKay!"

"Coach is trying to calm him down, and if he sees you, we got no idea what he might do, okay? OKAY?", he ordered, sternly, through clenched teeth as he shook your shoulders.

He was earnestly trying to be calm and gentle, but his fingers gripping harder and harder into your arms did jackshit to help his case.

"Okay."

He nodded, sighing in some emotion that seemed oddly like relief.

What, did he expect more of a fight? Did he expect you to be all 'no, I gotta see him now?'

You had no clue who the hell this bastard was, let alone what he wanted. No way were you going to kick and shout for him.

"What the fuck is his problem?", you asked, sighing against McKay's chest, exhausted.

He shrugged, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. "He's stressed about the game."

"So he cuts himself in my name? We don't even know each other, dude!"

"Okay, he isn't exactly the one you go to for rationality, alright?"

"Yo, the fuck's going on, man? The game was supposed to start-"

The other team's captain.

"Yeah, we're just, uh, dealing with a situation over here.", assured McKay, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from going ballistic at Nate. Or you. Most likely Nate. But even more likely you. "Tell your coach we're so sorry, and we'll be out in a minute, tops."

The other guy scoffed, grumbling as he stomped away, glaring more at you than McKay. What, did everyone know now?

"He thinks we're trying to hook up before the game.", explained McKay, patiently, almost embarrassed. "It's a thing some athletes do, 'for luck'."

Jocks were the weirdest fucking aliens to ever exist.

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🏈⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

Crimson traced paths through the blinding white of the bandages wrapped tightly like dependent vines around his palm. Noticing the lack of uniformity of white, Coach tsked. "We need more. McKay!"

"Yes, Coach?"

"One more, then you can send her in."

"She came?" Nate's voice, though feeble and exhausted - and now, hopeful - was heard through the tiny gap in the door that McKay made sure would remain tiny as he passed the last bandage to him, and you didn't want to admit it, but it broke your heart.

Ew. Nate Jacobs was breaking your heart?

Coach finished wrapping Nate up, and McKay guided you in, with both measured aggression and protectiveness.

Nate's eyes lifted and brightened up immensely, a feat you'd only thought possible by a lone spark igniting and breaching every inch of a dry leaf.

"You came."

"Son, I don't know what the hell you were thinking-"

"No, no, Coach, she's here, we can play."

Everyone stopped breathing at that moment. What the hell did the self-wounding quarterback asshole just say?

"What'd you just say, Jacobs?"

"We can play. Y/N's here. This isn't my good palm, anyway, so it's fine. Let's go."

And just like that, Nate was back. The amount of theses that could be written on this sheer anomaly of a man, the amount of studies that could be conducted, the amount of shock anyone else in this situation would go through- all unheard of.

No one else could handle it, though, besides all the people right there in the room. The best friend : self-taught and well-versed in handling him, the Coach : the authority figure that could calm him down with a bunch of fatherly words and....

And you : no one knew what the fuck you brought to the table. But something told you no one else would have survived in your shoes.

"Alright... then...?" Even Coach was absolutely speechless.

Nate nodded briskly, shooting up with a sudden burst of energy as he smiled at you.

Smiled.

Ladies and gentlemen : Nate Jacobs was on crack, confirmed.

He drew you in against his chest with an extremely unprecedented jerk, and you locked eyes with McKay behind him as he did so.

Not crack. Probably fent.

Your questioning gaze- which obviously said 'what in the everloving fuck is he doing?' - was met with a shrug and a look which suggested he barely even recognized his best friend right now.

"Okay, let's go WIN this motherfucker!", shouted Nate, patting your shoulder and loudly clapping his hands together before sprinting out of the locker rooms into the cheering football field.

It was dressed entirely in Blackhawk colours and bathed in a fluorescent, sickeningly pale light that you had to now spend an hour and a half in. Ugh.

Whiplash or not, you were about to throw up.

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🏈⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

You know those moments after a surreal event? When you just... sit. Stare into space and... ruminate.

You were having one of those in your car. The game had ended, really well, too, with the Blackhawks winning by a landslide. Your windshield had never held such secrets before. You stared through it.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Bang.

You turned. Nate Jacobs' fist fell on your window more times than you thought was necessary. 'Unlock the door, Y/N.'

You shook your head. Not a fucking chance in hell.

"'Y/N, don't be difficult, unlock the fucking door."

Something in you told you that that would be the worst mistake of your entire life.

"I'm sorry, I just want to talk, yeah?"

You had no idea if he deliberately made it a point to rest his bandaged palm on the window in full display to manipulate you, or if it was just a coincidence.

Just a coincidence, right?

You sighed, nodding your head in the direction of the passenger's seat as you unlocked it. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He slid in, grinning as he shut the door.

"You catch the touchdown?"

"Yeah. I did."

"What'd you think? Smoothest match yet?"

"Sure."

His grin gave way to a lour as he scoffed. "Why are you so cold? Our school won."

"Why am I so cold? Why am I so cold? You asshole, you just cut yourself to make me show up!"

"Because you didn't show up when I asked nicely!"

"You're a psychopath." The effect of this word on him was oddly intriguing. He seemed to both be offended by it and seemed to get off on it.

"Can I just explain?", he sighed, sucking on his teeth for a moment as he watched other students, cheering, whistling, hooting and drinking, through your windshield.

You gestured at him to continue. He wasn't worthy enough of your words.

"You know athletes have...", he trailed off, searching desperately for the right word of vindication.

"Small dicks?"

"Okay, deserved.", he muttered, rolling his eyes. "Look, we have, like... superstitions, sometimes. For luck."

"Like the hooking up thing."

"How do you know about that?"

"McKay told me."

He scoffed, shaking his head as if his friend had divulged the biggest secret, as if he had broken some moral code.

"Alright, fine, whatever. But, uh, I pretend like it's not something I do, but I kinda have them too."

If he was about to say what he was going to, you were about to press into the wound just to watch him bleed again. How dare he.

"My, um, my first game, I bumped into you on my way to the locker rooms.", he admitted, clearing his throat as if to clear space for whatever he was going to say - because it was so obviously the solution to String Theory, like he was making it out to be.

But oh, shit. He actually was going to say it.

"And we won. The next game, I did the same again, by accident. Y'know, just, this time, I fist-bumped you."

"When the fuck did you-"

"You were drunk, and you were cheering all of us on with your friends. You went for McKay's fist, but I did it instead. Uh, yeah, anyway. So, from the... maybe fourth? Yeah, the fourth game, I made it a point to at least brush my arm past you. Haven't lost a game since."

Your touch was his good luck charm? Was he clinically insane? Or was he just a massive loser?

"What's next? Our rising signs are aligned?"

"It's not a fucking joke, Y/N!", he snapped, his fist clenching.

"Really? Because it's pretty fucking hilarious."

"You know how hard it was for me to even admit I had superstitions, let alone about some random nobody girl I've never even talked to?"

No, no, he was not trying to make you feel bad, no goddamn way.

"You know how hard it was for me to see some random nobody guy bleeding out because of me?"

"It wasn't that deep." The pun was intended. It was so evidently intended that you wanted to slap the smirk off his lips.

"Yeah, okay, get out."

"Okay. You better show up to the next one, babygirl, or I'll have to take more drastic measures."

The audacious son of a bitch ruffled your hair and winked before he left.

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🏈⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

"C'mon, Y/N, don't be a cunt. Just do it. High five me. Fist bump me. Hug me. Whatever. Just do it, I've got a game to get to. And... everyone's watching."

The very next weekend, there was another game. Last game of the season. And you were supposed to be there, of course, because Nate's 'entire life depended on it.' And what's worse? He'd dragged you there, from your internship.

That's right. He'd basically come to your place of work, interrupted a conversation with your boss, and tugged you along with him because of his borderline insane obsession with having to touch you for luck.

He could have gotten away with it, too, if his 'good luck charm' theory hadn't involved you having to make contact with him right before the game.

And now you were out there on the field. Backing away from him. Refusing.

"Y/N, please."

"Fine."

You slapped him across the face, as hard as you possibly could.

The entire football field gasped.

He'd fucked up your week with the picture of the blade carving into his skin, and now, he was fucking up your career by costing you your internship. And what's worse, he didn't even care.

"Go. Play now."

He clenched his jaw, closing his eyes to suppress his rage before he opened them again. "That's not how it works. It has to be mutual. Like a fist bump. Or bumping into each other."

"Oh, okay.", you shrugged, grabbing his wrist before using it to uppercut him. "NOW go. PLAY."

You didn't know if you were being 'whoo'd or 'boo'd by the crowd, but at this point, the only thing you could hear was the red hot fury in your boiling blood.

He bit his lip as you let go of his hand, and before he jogged out onto the field, you could have sworn he said something that, if you'd heard it right, could cut through your entire soul and ruin your self-perception for years - something absolutely, shatteringly degrading.

You hoped you'd heard wrong.

Taking your seat in the stands, you scrolled on your phone, ignoring the entire fucking game. As expected, text from your team leader.

Gone. Internship gone. LoR gone. Nate Jacobs? About to be gone.

-------

He won.

He. Fucking. Won.

And that smirk that he gave you before blowing you a kiss that immediately morphed into flipping you the bird made you want to genuinely ask him to recreate that video once again.

You hated yourself for it, but yes.

You wanted him dead.

All the trauma he'd given you the past week couldn't be left unpunished.

Oh, to knock him off his pedestal. OH, to be the one to make him scream in pain instead of arrogant mirth.

"Whoo! Nate FUCKING Jacobs, baby!", he cheered in your ear as you gritted your teeth, walking back to your car. "And, of course, you."

You threw your bags into your car, ignoring him as you get in, starting the engine. He thumped on the hood of the car. "Come on, you can't still be mad! Your boss was looking down your shirt, anyway!"

"Oh, and I'm supposed to believe you did this out of the goodness of your heart?", you scoffed.

"That's right, baby, chivalry ain't dead."

"No, but you're about to be. Get the fuck out of my way."

"Hey, I need a ride. Gimme a lift."

"No chance in hell, Jacobs."

"Stop wounding me. Let me in."

"Or what?"

"I'll break your window.", he shrugged, casually. Normal things. The sun will rise tomorrow. Seasons will change. He'll break your window.

"I wouldn't be letting you in if I didn't think you were psychotic enough to actually do that."

He chuckled, sitting as he rested his duffel bag on his lap. A couple moments later, he looked up at you. "What? What are you waiting for?"

"Tell me where to go."

"You don't know where I live?"

"Okay, let me explain this to you, slowly. I didn't know jackshit about you till, like, a week ago. I didn't know your age or what kind of car you drove, or even what classes we shared, much less where the hell you live!"

"All this shit just proves that you don't observe people around you. You only care about yourself."

"If I only cared about myself, you'd have bled out last week."

He sighed playfully, resting his feet on your dashboard because he very evidently knew you would have a neurotic breakdown. "I, for one, know your age, the kind of car you drive, all the classes you have, plus your favourite colour and food."

"The first two are moot.", you replied, ignoring his silent mockery of the word 'moot'. "Next, you know I'm in all of Maddy's classes. And the rest you can find on my account. Account stalker."

"Account stalker. God, sweetheart, you're such a child. You don't want your account stalked, don't have a public one."

"I barely even post anything!"

"Oh, yeah, what about last month?"

He was looking at your profile last month? "I'd gone to France. It was a photo dump."

"It was unnecessary."

"Okay, you know what this is?"

He raised a brow.

"This is post-game audacity, is what I call it. You won. You're Mr. Big Shot, so you think you can just-"

And that's when Nate Jacobs kissed you.

To call it the worst fucking moment of your life would be a massive understatement. "Drive."

"You did not just fucking kiss me."

"You want me to do it again?"

"NO."

"Then drive."

This motherfucking bastard of a man!

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"You wanna come in?"

No way in hell were you going into Nate Jacobs' house. Especially when there was a party going strong.

"I'm good."

He rolled his eyes, his arm leaning on the top of the window as he leaned in. "I don't bite. Initially."

"Ooh, you don't bite initially, oh, please let me come in right now! Shut up and get in, Jacobs."

"You've earned the right to call me Nate. Congrats. Begin using it."

"Why? We're never talking after this."

He scoff-snickered. "Oh. OH, so that's how it is.", he nodded, amused.

"Yeah, yeah, that's how it is."

He guffawed, banging on the hood of your car. "This ain't funny anymore. Come in."

"What? No."

"Is there really only one way to ask you to do something?"

"No, Jacobs, don't you dar-"

But he didn't listen. When did he ever? His fingers emerged from his pocket with his knife in tow. NOT AGAIN. This was the most cunning, calculating, manipulative, Machiavellian-

"I'm cutting. This time, my wrist."

"You're so fucking dumb, y'know that? You're psychopathic."

The grin on his face showed that you were wrong. He wasn't offended. He was 100% getting off on it.

Drops of blood reached the floor, and you realized you couldn't just drive off and leave this guy here - he'd probably still be cutting just to prove a point.

"I hope you die.", you mumbled, getting out of your car and slamming the door.

"I'm trying, dude!", he laughed, pointing at his wrist. Oh, this sick bastard.

"Not dressing that wound?"

"C'mon, blood is sexy. Badass."

Nate Jacobs was about to see how 'badass' blood could really get.

And when you were done beating the everloving shit out of him, you kissed him. Because he deserved to know how infuriating that shit was, too.

The next day at school, it was normal. You didn't acknowledge him, and he didn't acknowledge you.He didn't seem to care about the fact that you hit him so hard he almost had a concussion. An average social media interaction. Good.

How it should be.

But then he texted you.

Fuck.

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