#who knew there was gonna be so much heart wrenching angst
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I know everyone is excited for Endo and Sakura's fight after chapter 147. I am too, really.
But.
I WANNA KNOW WHAT's HAPPENING ON THE ROOFTOP DAMMIT!-
I keep thinking about whatever the hell is going on between Umemiya and Takiishi. I mean, a literal chair fell off the roof?? Who threw it?? Whatever happened to Umemiya's plants?? His little farm at the rooftop? And Ume was so freakin' pissed when they went up there!? I WANT ANSWERS TT
The war is almost over though. And that's a good thing. Just roughly 10 more chapters to go
#wind breaker#wind breaker (satoru nii)#wind breaker manga#wind breaker spoilers#haruka sakura#sakura haruka#hajime umemiya#chika takiishi#umemiya hajime#takiishi chika#This is my new hyper fixation now#Didn't think I would like a delinquent manga so much#but gods am I glad i picked it up#who knew there was gonna be so much heart wrenching angst#and comfort#comfort is there too#+ found family
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Broken promises, part two
╰ • → Featuring . Itoshi Rin, and Itoshi Sae ! ╯
sypnosis . whereas— you're blood related with two famous soccer players world wide. In other words, siblings.
warnings . angst, fluff, use of vulgar words, slight spoilers, foreshadowing ( ? )
note . some parts may seem rushed or ooc in other peoples opinion. english isn't my first language, so please bare with oncoming vocabulary or grammatic mistakes.
—
" Okay, next up is [name] and Rin! So, what are your dreams? " the teacher asked, smiling as she slowly leads them to the front of the class.
"My dream for the future is; to be a football player, like my brother. My brother is going to be the best striker in the world, and I'm going to be the second best." Rin said nonchalantly— " And I'm gonna be a well known journalist! My dream is to follow my brothers, and watch them as they become the first and second best football player in the world!" you added with a bright smile. Rin was still in his preserved demeanor, but deep down he was ecstatic. He always was whenever talking about football or his big brother, Sae. As much as he loves his brother, he wasn't really much of talker.
Rather, just like his older brother, he never really learned how to express these unsystematical feelings of his the usual upfront and direct way— so he chose to find a different way itself. And that was communicating through football.
But to your dismays, the brother you and Rin have admired has changed. He was no longer the unconcerned, but nevertheless caring brother. He had turned wintry, rather–cold , and unsympathetic. Who knew that the two individual flames resting inside the both of you, altering to the passion of your dreams suddenly crushed by shards of your hearts breaking into pieces, every fragment flowing through your veins.
Earn so the day came where Itoshi Sae has challenged Rin on a one on one fight. Seeing Rin get shattered was almost the least of your concerns; you never really cared. All you cared about was that Sae was still there, there was still hope. You can convince him, you can do it. You swear, if you could try– you could. Right?
The best brother in the world, whom you two was so proud of could change so much in such little time? Who would've thought that he, one day would abandon the two of you just for that.. stupid sport. But is it really so.. stupid?
"If I win, our dream is over". ,
sure, for you, there was fate– there was hope. But for Rin? It ruined him, the walls he has built was destroyed, only to rise back up higher. How could his big brother say something like that– his dream, THEIR dream.
He might gotten step on all over that day, crushed to the very last bone, guts and heart wrenching— but he gets back up. He will always get back up; his dreams over? No. He will never allow that. For Sae, maybe it is. Then keep on living with that lie, Rin thought to himself.
From that day on, he VOWS that he will make that dream come true. He will become the best striker, he will be acknowledged by his brother, he will make his brother regret their decision, he will become the best striker in the world.
—
You knew. You knew that this would happen, you knew that he would need to eventually leave, to eventually leave you and Rin. But despite all of that, you chose to believe. You chose to believe that he wouldn't abandon you and Rin, he isn't that type of person, no; how could he do something so harsh like that? He isn't that type of person, you know him, he's your brother– you.. you just know it! But no, he still did leave. And, you know, you tried to think positively. Maybe he wasn't selfish, he's doing this to provide for mom and dad– maybe you and Rins studies aswell. "You're just an eyesore of an annoying little sister."
"you're not worth anything at
"You're not necessary in my life anymore"
"You're not necessary in my life anymore"
"You're not necessary in my life anymore"
Y̦̲̣ͭͪ̽̈̏͋̋̎͡O̸̰̼̽͂Ư̪̲̼̂̐̎͆́ͭ̈͞R̘E̙̯̖ͬ̊_̨͚͙̥͈̼̦̘ͤ͐ͫ̇ͯ͋ͬ̿̋̋ͧ͢͠ͅ_̛̘̯̘͕͔̥̂͐͐ͥ̃̓̿̎͜͠ N̡̧̢͉̪̤͖͔̠͖̳̳̙͍̺͎͎̅͊̌̿͛ͧͩ̋͒ͬ̈̎̅̇́̿̊O̸̵̞͈̖̦̞͔̰̹̮̭͎̿ͦ̔̉ͪ̅̄̅̈́̌̔ͧ̊̃̆̇́̕͢͡T̵̷̘̠͓͇͓̝̯͕͚̜͈͋͛̉̌̓̐̃ͭ̈́̈́ Ņ̷̴̵̵̙͙͉̤̣̟͍̙̜̻͓͊̇ͣͧͭ͆̀ͮͮͤ́ͪͦͣͥͅE̴̼̗̞̤̘͎̫ͧͨ́̊̀͌͠͝C̷̺͎̗̪̱̜̜̩̬̀̔͛͛̿_̨͚̳͇̼͓̪͓̉ͫ͐̾ͤ̄̚̚̚͘͠͝͞E̷̢̨͎̩͎̳̪̠̝̝̖̭̣ͤ͗̑̇̈̑̔̈̇ͩͥͫ̑̃́̊̂̃̑͊ͫ̑̆ͤ̚͢͠͞͞͝S̯͊S̴̸͇̪̹̘̞̱̉́̆Ȧ̷̴̼̪̖̗͎̝̜͒̀̊ͫ̈ͮ̎͐ͣ͝R͑_̷͎̝͓͈͇̪̱̫͑ͮ͌̇ͤ̾̌̀̽ͦ͌̃ͪͣ͌͜Y̝̍_͍̓̈ I̵̢̨̯̝͙̦͕͈͎̲͊ͥͬ̎̌̇ͪ̒̄̇ͬ̚͜͢͠ͅN̰̭̂̿̾ͤ͐̄̿͘͠ M̡̖͖͍̙͇͉̀̎́̃ͨ̇̾͞_̛̞ͦ͛_̛̛͍̘̏Y̮̓̑̓̎͐̀ L̵̢̻̝̘̼̲̭̯̻̟͎̽̃̔ͩ͑̈̓̕̕͜͞͠I͉͔̩̗̳̗̺̬̜͕̟̺͔͗ͭͣ͘͟͢͝͠Ḟ̧̼̠͈̹̣͙ͮ͂͐͑͟Ẻ͙ͣͦ͛̒ Ḁ̵̸̧̩͓̗̭̘̝̜̞͈̗̗̩̹̭̝͑̋͂ͥͣ̓̓̑̎ͪ̈́ͨͦ̿͌̕͜͡Ň̢͉̭̭̣̜͉̻͚̰̗̜̠ͪͪ̈́͑̓̇͗ͬͦ̿͂̕̚̕Ý̸̸̨̡̨̗̞͎̳̺̦͖͙̰͓͚̘̩̳ͫ͛̍̆̾ͮ͑͛͗́̇̆́ͣͦ̍͊̓ͦ̚̚̕͘͜͠_͜M̷̵̛̛͎̫̬̝̼̙̦̼̠̲̺̦͊̇̀̒ͦ̄͒̆̔͌ͮ̀̇ͮ̋́́̒̆̚͘͢͞O̵̶̷̢͖̱̱ͫͮͨ̋̒͛͘͞R͇͇̝̙̝ͩ͊̐̚͞͞_̵͚̦̹̯̖͓̪̩͈́ͫͥ͊Ê̵̢͈̠͖̖̂ͫ͆
───────
Was what kept playing inside your head right after those thoughts. He's selfish, Sae would never do that. He would never do that for the sake of us, no.. he did this for himself, he did this because of his own wants, he doesn't give a fuck about us, we aren't shit to him. To him, we're just distant blood related relatives. The moment he stepped away, was the moment you woke up to the slumber that you have placed yourself into, the delusions you knew that were not true. —
" Hello Itoshi [name] ! How does it feel being interviewed when usually you're the one interviewing people? "
"I feel slightly nervous, I'm not used to getting interviewed like this" you said with a nervous laugh. " How does it feel that your project, blue lock has skyrocketed and gained popularity worldwide? "
"I'm thankful for the support we've been getting, specially for the staff since they're doing such a great job." you said, the same bright smile you have since the old days not changing.
"Lastly, how did you come up with the idea of blue lock? Bonus— an anonymous question, How does it feel like being Itoshi Sae's sister?"
As if lost in thought, you paused for a moment. "I feel nothing as Itoshi Sae's sister. To me, he is nothing but a distant blood relative." you said, tone harshening up. "As for blue lock, " your tone softened.
" I came up with it to find an individual who can overshadow the overhyped Itoshi Sae. " end of part two , previous part !
note . this may seem slightly rushed because I've been writing the same stuff over and over again. My tumblr has been glitching and it keeps on deleting 4 paragraphs worth of my work. sighh, also, I'm going to be inactive for awhile ): but! I'll try to update consistently. ⁎˃ᴗ˂⁎
where I took inspo from ,
bonus panel, they're so cute I'm gonna explode.
taglist ! @chaesdxll , @kimura-uzuri , @randomhumans-blog , @selmabckl , @is2sae , @simpbigtime , @imshittingforyelana , @tsumu-senpai , @sarahforever
#bllk x reader#bllk#bllk fanart#bllk rp#bllk x you#itoshi rin#rin itoshi#sae itoshi#sae itoshi x reader#rin itoshi x reader#itoshi rin fluff#fluff maybe#angst#angst with a happy ending#maybe#maybe not#maybe happy ending
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What does she have...
Johnny 'soap" Mactavish × (obsessive?) Reader
Plot: Johnny 'John' Macravish. The man you've been in love with since you were 13 years old. The boy next door who promised to protect you, care about you, and be by your side. Promised to be your best friend. Grown up together and still close to this day. Only you want to be more, but... It seems he just can't leave behind the free life, sleeping where he wants, when he wants with who he wants... He needs more than you. And you just can't expect that.
Warnings: Angst, Hurt/no comfort/comfort, unrequited love, swearing, mentions of sex, Sex, seeing the man you love with someone else, Civilian reader, friends to lovers?, mentions of abuse, Johnny gets hurt at some point.
A/n: this will have a choose-your-path style to it, cuz I find interaction fun! And a pick your ending. I listened to 'Put Me in a Movie' by Lana on repeat while making this. Slowed and reverbed.
You had been in love with him as long as you. Would remember. Your mom's being close friends and all. You'd grown up practically in the same house. And you'd loved every second of it.
It broke your heart when he first told you he was joining the military. That was the first time you and him had ever fought. But you still remember it like it was yesterday.
"Why do you care so much?!" he screamed at you. An uncomfortable silence followed, you wanted to tell him. 'I'm in love with you, I care for you, I just want you to be safe. Can't you be here safe... With me?' but instead, you had stupidly said, 'You're like my brother. I wouldn't want my brother to get hurt.' you regret not telling him that night, either our come would've spared you years of her break...
But today you'd been ecstatic, Johnny was coming home today. He had sent you the letter and that some squad mates would stay! You were excited to meet everyone... At first...
When everyone had set down the bags and you saw that shaggy mohalk you came running down the steps of Johnny's house.
Johnny and you had a comfortable dynamic between the two of you. You had your little apartment for one that you stayed at when Johnny was home from his missions. But while he was gone you stayed in his house, keeping the dust bunnies away and his house warm.
Neither of you minded the agreement. You especially, you got to lay in his bed every night. Thinking and dreaming what it would be like to go to bed and wake up next to him.
You hugged Johnny and he laughed at you almost knocking him over, his sweet laughter... His smell, his voice... "miss me lassy? Heh-" his silly teasing, a perfect moment...
"who's your little friend?" a moment ruined by the sound of another woman's voice. You jumped back to look at her, "this is [Name], my good friend. Practically my little sister-" aaannd there it was. That gut-wrenching feeling of another needle stabbing your heart.
This woman was tall, very muscular, and had a scar under her left eye. Blonde hair and the most beautiful green eyes you'd ever seen.
And you knew instantly what her 'relationship' with Johnny was. They were always the same.
Every mission he came back from he had a pretty woman aside him. Sometimes from the mission, other just a girl he found at the local pub after a drink with his mates.
Always another pretty woman. But never you.
You went home and cried every time.
"It's nice to meet you all," you said with a smile, hoping his teammates wouldn't notice the slight drop in your mood knowing a woman was with them. They had all kindly introduced themselves, except the big one with the mask, he just stared at you. You couldn't tell what he was thinking behind those dark eyes.
"I'm Gaz, it's nice to meet you! We were just gonna set our things inside and head for a drink would you like to come?"
While a drink would be nice you learned your lesson. You had only been around Johnny when he was drunk twice. Both times ended with you crying.
The first time, you had gone out with him to celebrate his return. It was going smoothly and you were having fun. Seeing the Man you love having fun, being alive. But it quickly went south when you excused yourself to the bathroom. When you came back Johnny had a woman on his arm, Dancing and whispering in her ear. Kissing her neck, letting her rake her fingernails down his strong chest.
You felt sick. You rushed back to his house and ended up crying yourself to sleep in a guest room. But being woken up to the sickening sound of that woman moaning Johnny's name.
And the second time...
"oh no thank you, I just finished tidying up here and I gotta get home to my cat." you joked and he thankfully accepted your excuse. Johnny didn't even notice you leaving...
You couldn't sleep, you laid awake wondering what it was like to be that woman. To be fucked into the mattress by Johnny. Your Johnny.
You'd dreamed and fantasized about it many many times. To kiss him. To hold him. To moan for him. A dream you touched yourself every night too. It made you feel less lonely.
You wondered if when lying in his bed she smelled your perfume?
You had a very specific perfume, you had been wearing it every day since you were 16, you'd worn it once and Johnny had said you 'smelled nice' and since then you'd only ever wear That specific scent.
In your mind, when he smelled that scent he would always think of you. And you had slept on his bed every night since he had been gone, you know you still lingered on his sheets.
You'd always wondered if Johnny... Liked... The smell of you on his bed. You knew he knew you slept in his bed, instead of one of the guest beds he had in his home. But he had never once told you to stop... Maybe he liked it?... Maybe...
For a moment you reviled in the idea that while she was being fucked, her head shoved into the pillows she'd be forced to smell you lingering on his sheets. Maybe if you were right the smell might... Make him think of you... If only for a moment... Maybe...
You sigh.
Why couldn't it just be you? What did all those other women have... That you didn't?
Why couldn't he... Just pick you?
Tags: @godihatethiswebsite
Part 1/???
#gaz cod#cod soap#soap cod#ghost cod#cod mw2#cod mwii#cod mw2 imagine#cod mw2 x reader#cod x reader#soap call of duty#soap mw2#john soap mactavish#john soap mactavish x reader#john soap mctavish x reader#soap x reader#johnny my love#johnny mactavish x reader#johnny mctavish x reader#taskforce 141#task force 141#task force 141 x reader
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X01=LOVESONG (I Know I Love You) — Geto Suguru.
When clarity finally pierced through the fog of your shock and grief, you found yourself standing amidst the remnants of his life, which was intricately intertwined with yours. The room, now a hollow echo of what once was, was filled with objects that each told a story—a story that had been both of yours. There were books you had discussed late into the night, mugs from which you had sipped coffee on lazy mission–less mornings, polaroids that captured moments of sheer, unadulterated happiness. Every item seemed imbued with a fragment of Suguru's presence, his smile, his warmth, and even the distinct trace of his scent that seemed to linger stubbornly in the air.
Genre: Post - Hidden Inventory Arc, 2007-2010s;
Warning/s: First Love, First Heartbreak, Betrayal, Grief, Emotional Trauma, Character Death, Angst, Romance, Kissing, Tragedy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Purging, Unresolved Tension, Inner Turmoil, Flashbacks, Love and Loss, Slow Burn, Closure, Depiction of Depression, Depiction of Grief, Depiction of Physical Touch, Mention of Death, Mention of Killing, Mention of Harm, Reader's Discretion Is Advised;
masterlist
listen: X01=LOVESONG (I Know I Love You) by TXT
note: this is gonna be sad, so i hope you buckle up. this is like, one of the angstiest thoughts i've had in a while and i just had to write it down. anyway, enjoy it!!! i love you~
THIS IS THE CLOSEST YOU’D EVER GET TO CLOSURE, YOU THINK. It was profoundly difficult, cleaning up a room that was saturated with so many memories. Yet, Yaga-sensei found himself tasked with this heart-wrenching duty, a directive passed down from the higher-ups. Every item associated with Geto Suguru, now labeled a fugitive and a traitor, was to be removed.
From the mundane—a simple pen—to the intimately personal, like his favorite sweater, nothing could remain. It was a stark and painful erasure of his existence within these walls. There was to be no trace of the man who had once been a part of their lives, no remnants of a traitor among them.
Satoru, overwhelmed by the situation, flatly refused to participate. He wouldn't entertain the idea of following through with the order, his actions—or lack thereof—speaking volumes of his inner turmoil and silent protest. Shoko initially tried to cope, sitting quietly in the room, surrounded by the echoes of a past that clung to every object Suguru had touched. However, the weight of the task proved too much, and eventually, she had to leave, unable to bear the stripping away of memories tied so deeply to someone they had all cared for.
Yaga-sensei couldn't find it within himself to blame them. How could he? The task he was performing was not just a physical clearing of objects; it was an emotional purging that none of them had been prepared for. It posed the torturous question: how does one manage to hold so much grief? How can anyone be expected to hold onto so much, only to have to let it go, to act as if it was never there?
In that room, every item removed felt like a denial of what had been, a negation of the times they had shared. Each piece carried a story, a laugh, a moment of brilliance, a trace of the life they once knew with Suguru. But beyond the physical act of cleaning, there was an unspoken mourning, a quiet acknowledgment of the loss not just of a friend and colleague but of the innocence and camaraderie they had all shared before his descent.
Yaga-sensei understood the necessity of the orders from a rational standpoint, but rationality often fell short of providing comfort in times of emotional strife. The job had to be done, but the emotional residue, the sense of betrayal mixed with fond memories, the stark pain of loss—these were not things that could be cleaned away with the physical removal of objects. They lingered, pervasive and deep, in the hearts of those left behind.
Still, you persevered. You took up the task, gathering boxes and those heavy, dark trash bags, and stood before the once tidy room, now a symbol of chaos and abandonment—a place he could no longer return to. The mess was overwhelming; where to begin was not immediately clear, but you started nonetheless. You felt the tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you picked up each item, but you pushed on, item after item.
As you sorted through his belongings, a mix of mundane and intimate objects, the reality of the situation began to truly weigh on you. You had to admit, though it gnawed at your insides, part of you still couldn’t fully accept that the contents of the report were true. It seemed impossible that the person who had owned these books, worn these clothes, and laughed in these very walls could have done the atrocities he was accused of. He hadn’t really destroyed that village, had he? He couldn’t have actually killed his own beloved parents, could he?
The dissonance between the Suguru you knew and the one described in the cold, factual report created a storm of confusion and denial inside you. Each item you placed into the boxes felt like you were discarding pieces of the Suguru you remembered. And it broke your heart over and over again.
You felt nauseated, you felt like you were going to lose it. Every piece felt like shredding the memories of someone you love—loved. Your Suguru, he was not a monster. The process was not just physical cleaning; it was an emotional battleground, where memories conflicted with hard, unforgiving reality.
As you were about to leave the room, Yaga-sensei approached you, his expression somber and his eyes avoiding yours. He extended a folder towards you—thick with papers, the topmost branded with the official seals of their institution. You hesitated but took it, feeling the weight of the documents in your hands.
“Why?” You whispered under your breath, looking at the older man. “Why’d he do it?”
"You need to read these," Yaga-sensei said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's important you understand everything."
Your hands trembled as you opened the folder. The papers rattled loudly in your grasp, a stark contrast to the eerie silence that filled the room. Each page you turned revealed more details, more horrors, more undeniable evidence of the acts Suguru had committed. The descriptions were clinical, detached, yet they cut through you with a visceral sharpness. And at the end, those words —’All sorcerers are advised to when in contact with the cursed user Geto Suguru, to execute him, on sight.’
You felt like you were going to be sick. This couldn’t be real. How is this real? As you absorbed the contents, a specific memory flashed through your mind, unbidden and piercingly vivid.
It was of Suguru, on a day much like any other, yet now impossibly distant. He had kissed you goodbye, his lips brief against yours, his eyes warm with affection. "I'll come back from this mission," he had promised with a smile that couldn't even reach his eyes, full of a light that you now realized was extinguished. “I swear. We’ll eat soba together when I come back.”
The contrast between that memory and the black-and-white text in front of you was jarring. How could the man who had looked at you with such tenderness, who had promised to return, be the same person described in these reports? How could he have carried such darkness within him while offering you nothing but warmth and love?
The room spun slightly as you stood there, the papers shaking in your hands, each word another weight added to what felt like an unbearable load. You wanted to drop the folder, to let it fall to the ground and scatter, as if by dispersing these papers you could disperse the truth they contained. But you couldn't. You had to face this.
“I understand.” You whisper under your breath, as you slowly let go of the folder. Tears pricking at the edge of your eyes. “I’ll….I’ll tell Shoko—”
“She already knows.”
You look at him, blinking your eyes. “And Satoru?”
“Locked himself away.”
“I see.”
Handling his possessions, you couldn’t help but recall the person he had been—the very center of your whole world. In this world full of zeros, he seemed to be the only one that ever made sense. This world of violence, this suffering, this jujutsu sorcery—he was the only one that ever made sense. The warmth in his smile, the tenderness in his voice, the grace in his touch.
With each object that landed in the trash bag, it felt as if you were trying to erase those memories, deny the reality of what had been, and maybe, in some small way, absolve the pain and betrayal you felt. With everything he was in that trash bag, it was as though life was zeros again. Nothing made sense anymore.
You stopped for a moment.
You turned your head away.
The pictures on this white board.
You smiled as you kissed him.
New Year’s Day at the temple.
That bittersweet summer in Okinawa.
When clarity finally pierced through the fog of your shock and grief, you found yourself standing amidst the remnants of his life, which was intricately intertwined with yours. The room, now a hollow echo of what once was, was filled with objects that each told a story—a story that had been both of yours. There were books you had discussed late into the night, mugs from which you had sipped coffee on lazy mission–less mornings, polaroids that captured moments of sheer, unadulterated happiness. Every item seemed imbued with a fragment of Suguru's presence, his smile, his warmth, and even the distinct trace of his scent that seemed to linger stubbornly in the air.
How had you managed to get this far, you wondered. Only a few neatly packed bags now contained the physical remnants of what had been a shared existence, yet there was too much left that wasn't tangible, too much that you couldn't pack away or discard.
Memories clung to you relentlessly, each one a poignant reminder of what had been lost. How could you possibly begin to untangle yourself from a past so rich in love and now so poisoned with betrayal?
The challenge before you was immense. You needed to find a way to preserve the memories that still brought warmth, those uncontaminated by the later revelations of his actions, without allowing them to anchor you to a past that could no longer exist in the way it once had.
It wasn't just about moving on physically—clearing out his belongings and possibly even moving out of the space you shared—it was also about emotional survival. How could you reconcile the love you had felt with the pain of betrayal? How could you hold onto the good without it being tainted by the bad?
As you stood there, surrounded by the echoes of a life you once loved, you realized that this process would not be swift. It would be painful and slow, a journey of sorting through not just physical objects, but also through the layers of your heart. You would need to learn how to cherish the joy without it being overshadowed by the sense of loss, to acknowledge the pain without letting it consume you.
The task of moving forward was daunting. Yet, it was necessary. You understood that to heal, you must allow yourself to feel both the grief and the fondness, the betrayal and the love. You must learn to live with the memories in a way that they inform your future without chaining you to a narrative that could no longer be your reality.
With each memory you chose to pack away or leave out, with each item you decided to keep or discard, you were not just deciding on what physically remained in your life; you were also making decisions about how you would let your past influence your future.
This process, as heart-wrenching as it was, was your path to finding peace—a peace that acknowledged all that had been, the good and the bad, and still allowed you to look forward to what might come next.
You fell to your knees.
You felt your body shake.
Tears overwhelmed you.
You know you loved him.
But why wasn’t he here?
Why wasn’t he here to love you?
SUGURU MADE A MARK IN YOUR LIFE YOU CAN NEVER ERASE. When you think about it, you never truly fell in love with anyone before Suguru. He was your first in everything. In the world full of winters, in the world full of suffering, in the world full of zeros — he was the person that made the frigid air thaw, he healed the world of suffering.
He made the world feel like there was someone. There was someone that could love you. He was the epitome of all you desired, of all you needed; every trait you ever hoped for in a person shone brightly in his eyes, which met yours with such warmth. Had you made a list of ten qualities you sought in a soulmate, Suguru would have scored eleven, perhaps even more.
Your personalities magnetically attracted each other, an inevitable pull that felt as if no force in the universe could sever. From the moment you met, you knew you were caught in a perpetual cycle with him—a cycle you never wanted to escape. To you, he was the one; no one else could evoke the feelings he did.
Suguru was your other half, a wondrous being who filled your life with such joy that it seemed lifted straight from a fairy tale. At times, you questioned if he were real, or just a figment of your daydreams.
It was a bright, crisp afternoon at Jujutsu High when you first crossed paths with Geto Suguru. You’d just come from getting all your stuff in the dorm, as Yaga–sensei instructed.
When you finished, you decided to take a walk. And it was then, when you had spotted a distressed cat, its cries pitiful as it clung precariously to a branch high up in one of the campus's many sprawling trees. Moved by a mix of concern and impulsiveness, you decided to rescue the feline, despite having little experience in arboreal rescues.
With cautious steps, you climbed, reaching from branch to branch, ascending higher with each careful maneuver. Below, the ground seemed to grow increasingly distant, a patchwork of grass and the scattered shadows of leaves that danced in the gentle wind. Your heart pounded not just from the climb but from the fear of the cat jumping or falling.
Just as you were almost close enough to coax the cat to safety, a misstep caused your foot to slip. In a heart-stopping instant, your balance faltered, and you found yourself tumbling backward, a startled cry escaping your lips.
Out of seemingly nowhere, strong arms caught you. Your descent halted abruptly, and as you dangled in mid-air for a moment, time seemed to pause. You were gently set back onto the ground, and as you steadied yourself, your eyes met Suguru for the first time.
He was a fellow student, previously just another face in the crowd somewhere at one point. But now, he was the person who had caught you in a literal free fall — he was your savior. And you couldn’t stop staring at him. He was so beautiful, almost like an angel fallen to earth. The thought of his gentleness towards you, his tender stare. It was all too much for you. It made your heart beat over and over.
Suguru's expression was one of mild amusement mixed with concern. "You should be more careful," he chided lightly, his eyes scanning you quickly to ensure you were unhurt. "Trees aren't the safest places to be if you’re not a cat—or a trained climber."
Embarrassment flushed your cheeks, but you managed a grateful smile. "Thanks for catching me. And, uh, sorry for the trouble," you stammered, still trying to calm your racing heart.
"No trouble at all," Suguru replied, his tone easy and friendly. He then turned his attention to the cat still perched in the tree, looking down at you both with wide, curious eyes. "Let’s get your little friend down safely, shall we?" he suggested, already assessing the tree for the best way to climb.
Together, you watched as Suguru skillfully ascended the tree. Unlike your attempt, he moved with confidence and grace, reaching the cat quickly and coaxing it into his arms with gentle whispers. The descent was smooth, and soon, he was back on the ground, the cat safe in his arms.
"You're pretty good at this," you remarked, impressed by his calm demeanor and skill.
He just shrugged, handing the cat to you. "I like climbing. And helping," he added with a smile that reached his eyes, warming them with a spark that you would come to know very well in the times to follow.
That afternoon, after the cat had scampered off, presumably to find less precarious places to explore, you and Suguru ended up walking together, talking about school, interests, and trivial things that slowly wove the initial threads of your connection.
From that unexpected meeting sprung a relationship built on shared moments, laughter, and eventually, deeper feelings. Each look back at that day reminded you of the fateful fall that had brought Suguru into your life, not just as a savior from a physical fall, but as a pivotal presence in the most significant chapters of your life. From that on, you think you could never think of him anything other than someone you loved.
Suguru and your relationship blossomed with an intensity that seemed almost surreal, like something out of those fairy tales designed to instill hope and belief in magic. The rapid progression from friends to soulmates caught you both by surprise but neither of you hesitated. It felt right, like a multitude of moments had aligned just to bring you together.
You marveled at how natural it felt to be with him. For once, love did not come with reservations or the fear of not being enough. No one had ever affirmed you deserved happiness the way he did. His embrace liberated you from any previous doubts about your worthiness of love. His touch seemed almost celestial, as if you were being given a second life—one filled with an abundance of love and joy.
Whenever life seemed intent on throwing its worst challenges at you, Suguru stood as your unwavering pillar of support. His adoration was a universe of its own, vast and filled with warmth that saw through your insecurities and embraced your imperfections. He loved you wholly, celebrating your quirks and flaws as parts of the intricate mosaic that made you unique.
Suguru had a profound effect on your very being. With him, you learned the essence of true love—how it felt to be completely understood and appreciated. He had the extraordinary ability to see you, the real you, and in his eyes, you were enough.
This recognition and acceptance kindled a deep, passionate love within you, a love so fierce and consuming that it seemed to defy the mundane limitations of everyday life. He inspired dreams of a future so luminous and perfect that it appeared unbreakable.
You treasured every aspect of his soul, from his vibrant laughter to the thoughtful furrow of his brow. Each trait painted a color on the once bland walls you had built around your heart.
Geto Suguru didn't just break down these walls; he integrated himself into them, weaving his essence into the very fabric of your existence, becoming an inseparable part of the infinite you once believed was yours alone.
This love was a sanctuary, a space where you both existed in a harmonious bubble seemingly impervious to the external world. In this shared infinity, every moment was a vivid stroke on the canvas of your lives together, creating a masterpiece of vibrant hues and heartfelt emotions. Each day spent with him reinforced the belief that nothing could ever pull you apart—a belief so strong that it bordered on invincibility.
But as with all tales, whether of magic or reality, challenges loomed. Yet, in those moments of pure connection and love, such concerns seemed distant. You lived in the breaths shared between whispers of affection and the quiet understanding that passed in glances—those slices of eternity where the world outside faded to a mere backdrop to the vivid reality you shared with Suguru.
But as Suguru descended into madness and grief, the perfect image began to fracture. Amanai Riko died. And then your kouhai, Haibara, died. At one point, you nearly died. And he hated it. He hated feeling this powerless. He hated having to swallow up curses. He wanted to burn it all.
He hated how you all have to die, forced to die young, brutal deaths – for the sake of people who couldn’t care less. He would never tell you these things. You only find out in that letter he left to the three of you — The one that he wrote a year ago, when he planned to disappear. He couldn’t keep living this lie anymore. And you couldn't take it. It drove you mad. It drove you insane. At one point, you wonder, if you would end up like him.
But you just couldn't stop crying.
You couldn't stop mourning him.
Mourning the life you could have had.
It wasn't fair, it alll wasn't fair at all.
You were robbed of happiness together.
In all those moments, you wished you could have done more for him. You wished you could have wrapped your arms around his. Kissed him enough to make the taste disappear. But somehow you couldn’t do anything. No matter if you asked if he was alright, he would rebuff you. No matter how much you ask him if he slept, he would tell you the opposite. No matter how much you wanted to embrace him, he would say nothing.
He was already too far gone. His once hopeful demeanor was overshadowed by a deep, engulfing sorrow. The lively discussions you once shared, filled with love and reverence, turned into debates tainted by his despair.
And perhaps you had known it. Perhaps refused to acknowledge that it was all over. But you kept trying. You kept wishing that you could keep him with you, trapped in this own world that belonged to the both of you. And he tried, he tried to keep up with you. But he knew, as you probably did too, that it would never have worked out.
Amidst a storm of emotional turmoil and unseen pressures that seemed to suffocate the very air around you, there came a breaking point—a moment when the despair felt so overwhelming that you could see no other way through but to anchor yourself to Suguru, the one constant in the chaotic whirlwind of your life.
It was late, the world outside wrapped in the silence of an unforgiving night, when you found Suguru in the dim light of his dorm table, his features etched with lines of stress and shadow. He looked up, his eyes reflecting a turmoil that mirrored your own. In that shared gaze, the weight of unspoken fears and pent-up frustrations hung heavily between you.
Driven by a desperate need to break through the barriers of pain and disconnect, you approached him with a resolve borne of raw emotion. "Use me," you pleaded, voice cracking with the intensity of your plea. "If it makes you feel better, use me. I can't stand seeing you like this. Please, Suguru. Please."
There was a palpable tension in the air as he absorbed your words. For a heart-stopping moment, he just stared, the depth of his gaze searching yours. Then, with a sudden movement, he closed the distance between you, his hands framing your face as he pulled you into a kiss.
At first, the kiss was a desperate melding of lips, a search for solace in the familiar. You responded instinctively, your arms winding around his neck, pulling him closer, trying to meld into him completely. The kiss deepened, driven by a cocktail of raw emotions, each of you seeking comfort, assurance, and a momentary escape from the burdens weighing you down.
As your initial desperation melded into a fervent need, the kiss grew harsher, more intense. Suguru's hands moved from your face, gripping your shoulders, then sliding down with a possessive urgency that conveyed both his need and his surrender to the moment. You felt a surge of something more than just passion—there was also a poignant ache, a recognition of the pain that had driven you to this moment of reckless abandon.
The kiss was no gentle query but a demanding, consuming force, as if through this physical connection, you both could momentarily forget the harshness of reality. Your response was equally fervent, a mix of giving and taking, a physical expression of your plea for him to use this connection, to draw from it whatever solace he could find.
In this intense exchange, there was no room for hesitation or doubt—only the raw, unfiltered need to be each other's solace, even if just for the fleeting moments as your lips clashed and your bodies pressed together in the quiet shadows of the night. Perhaps as you moaned underneath him, you wondered that maybe this would be enough. You had hope that it would.
Yet, as he battled with himself, with his demons, it was in the aftermath of it all that you realized your love could not sustain him. You can never force a flower to bloom when you want it to. You can never ask the sun to shine for you. And in the end, you can never ask Suguru to stay. You can never ask Suguru to explain.
Geto Suguru's grief became a chasm too vast to bridge. The more he unraveled, the more you felt compelled to hold you together, but it was like grasping at dissipating smoke. And you hated it. You hated all of it. But somehow, you could never hate him. Never him.
When you saw him again, you had already moved out of Jujutsu High. The only person who knew where you lived was Shoko and Satoru. You opted for a quiet life, in the countryside.
It was truly hard, you have to admit. Your life felt like a barren moonscape, cold and isolated. You were left to navigate a landscape of loss and self-discovery, all of it alone once again. Your love, once a vibrant song, had quieted to a somber melody.
You still regularly did Jujutsu work, but those missions were silently forwarded to you to deal with. That night, it was a mission that you wished you’d never taken. The weight of your cursed weapon felt heavier than ever, as if it were absorbing the gravity of the moment.
The victim's room was too dimly lit, shadows playing across the walls, casting elongated shapes that seemed to flicker with your unsteady heartbeat. Geto Suguru stood there, a few feet away, his purple gaze fixed on you with an intensity that made the room shrink.
You wondered why he was here. But you were scared to ask. You were scared to confront the idea that he had anything to do with this. Like all those years ago. You wanted to pretend. You wanted to pretend that he was just here, as he used to be, without the grief nor the pain, that comes with it.
The strands of his hair, longer than you remembered, brushed his eyelashes and occasionally obscured his gaze as he spoke to you. Those eyes, the same eyes that had once implored you with an intensity that had drawn you in, years ago, still seemed to reach out, asking for understanding, for connection. It was as if no time had passed in the way he looked at you, yet everything about him suggested the weight of the years he had carried.
He wore a gojo-kesa, the traditional layered robes that marked his new status in that cult, 'his family', as those reports from spies do say nowadays. The colors made you take a step back. Those colors were those you had once expressed fondness for—a deep, rich blend that seemed to capture the essence of his serious yet profound nature. It was striking how these colors, ones you had offhandedly mentioned liking during one of your many long conversations, now draped his form, as if clinging to a part of your shared past.
"You know, those blues." You pondered to him, almost like a little child. You were too burned out from the exams to stay sane. "The navy blue? Is that what it was?"
"What are you talking about?" Suguru's laugh resounded so beautifully as he laid against your lap. "The navy blue jeans you liked at the store?"
"Yeah, yeah, those!" You confirmed, grinning at him, lowering your head. "Then there were these bright yellow tops I saw—"
"Oh my god, you're creating a worse fit than Satoru—"
"Will you let me finish?" You pouted at him, causing him to laugh again.
"Alright, alright. What's the hat?"
"Pastel green."
"I can see it now."
You grinned again at him. "So, would I look pretty?"
"No, sorry but the color combination—"
"Why don't you just tell me you hate me at this point?" You stood up, pouting and stomped away as he laughed, standing up and catching up with you.
"Baby, wait!"
As you stomped away, the frustration feigned but the playful challenge in your tone unmistakable, Suguru quickly got up, his laughter still lingering in the air between you. The lightness of the moment was a welcome break from the intense studying and the stress that exams always brought into your life.
He caught up to you with a few quick strides, his hand gently grabbing your arm to turn you back toward him. His eyes were alight with amusement and a touch of affection that always seemed to deepen when you both shared these light-hearted moments. "Hey, come on, I was just teasing," he said, his voice softening as he pulled you into a loose embrace.
"You know I could never hate you," Suguru continued, his smile broadening. "And honestly, you’d look pretty in anything. Even in that outrageous outfit you just described."
You couldn't help but soften at his words, the sincerity in his tone melting any mock indignation you had felt. His ability to switch from teasing to tender in a heartbeat was one of the many things you cherished about him.
"You really think so?" You asked, a playful glint in your eye, wanting to draw out the moment a little longer.
"Absolutely," he replied, his hand gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "Although, maybe not the pastel green hat. Let’s save that for Satoru, shall we?" His tease was gentle, and it brought a genuine laugh from you.
"Yeah, let's," you agreed, your laughter mingling with his as the tension from the exams seemed to dissolve away in the comfort of your interaction.
Suguru’s hand slid down to yours, fingers intertwining as he pulled you slightly closer. "How about tomorrow we go and check out those jeans, though? Make a day of it. Just you and me." His suggestion was casual, but you knew it was his way of giving you something to look forward to, a small oasis of normalcy amid the chaos of academic pressures.
"That sounds perfect," you said, your spirits lifted by the plan and the prospect of spending a day together outside the confines of study sessions and lecture halls.
As you both started walking back towards your apartment, hand in hand, the campus around you bathed in the soft light of the evening, you felt a profound sense of gratitude.
It pained you, how he remembered. How easily he just knew which colors to choose. All because they reminded him of you. You hated too, how easily those memories of better days, of days where he smiled so genuinely to the world, were still in your mind.
You fall in love, over and over again. And you wished you can't. You wished you wouldn't. You felt like you were going to be sick, you felt like tears would flow all over again. It struck you just how much he looked like the Suguru you had fallen in love with—the same, yet irrevocably different. How he was still there, after all this time. Even though, you wish he wasn't.
"You still look the same," you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. The grip on your weapon tightened, a reflex against the vulnerability you felt.
Suguru's lips twitched into a semblance of a smile, sad and knowing. "Looks can be deceiving," he replied, his voice low and rough with emotion. "I'm far from the boy….the man you knew."
The air between you was thick with history and unsaid words, a testament to the journey both of you had traveled—apart yet forever linked by the past.
"Why are you here, Suguru?" Your question cut through the silence, direct and laden with a myriad of emotions.
"I needed to see you," he said simply, stepping forward, reducing the distance between you. "To know if... if there's anything left of us….strangers, to have.”
His forwardness made you tense, the cursed weapon in your hand a reminder of the dangers his presence posed. Yet, his vulnerability, the raw need in his eyes, tugged at something deep within you.
"Suguru, too much has happened. Too much has changed," you replied, your voice faltering slightly as memories of better days flashed through your mind. “And all this time….how could you only now….”
He nodded slowly, the acknowledgment painful but necessary. "I know. I know I've made unforgivable choices. But standing here before you, I can't help but hope for a moment of madness where everything is as it once was."
"You and I know, more than anyone, that some curses can't be undone," you said softly, the weight of your own words anchoring the pain firmly in your chest.
He took another step closer, his presence so familiar yet so foreign. "I suppose you're right. But at least allow me this—," he paused, his voice catching, "—this moment to remember us not as we are, but as we were."
The desperation in his voice, the longing for something irretrievably lost, made your resolve waver. But the reality of the situation, the danger, and the betrayal, fortified your next words.
"Suguru, please don't ask that of me. It's too painful to pretend, even for a moment," you said, meeting his gaze steadily. The cursed weapon remained in your hand, a silent witness to the chasm that lay between you.
His shoulders slumped, the fight going out of him as he stepped back, putting space between your shared pain and his acceptance of the situation.
As Suguru's admission hung in the air, so did the weight of countless memories and unshed tears. "I love you. I will always love you," he whispered, each word laden with regret and a tender hope that seemed almost out of place in the cold reality of the present.
You felt a tightness in your chest, the kind that comes from holding back too much for too long. You pursed your lips, battling the tears threatening to breach your resolve. "It will pass," you managed to say, your voice a whisper almost lost in the distance that had grown between you.
Suguru paused, his back still turned, his shoulders tense as if absorbing the finality of your words. "I know," he said, his voice barely audible, a resignation to his fate—and perhaps yours as well. "I suppose it has to."
The silence that followed was thick, filled with all the things left unsaid, all the apologies that could never undo the past, all the love that could no longer bridge the gap of betrayal and hurt. It was a silence filled with the end of things, the quiet closing of a book whose pages had once fluttered with vibrant life and passionate mistakes.
"You should go," you finally said, firm yet not unkind. "It's better this way."
He nodded without turning to face you, his agreement silent but understood. As he walked away, each step seemed to echo in the empty space, a solemn drumbeat marking the end of an era. You watched him disappear, the figure you once knew now just a shadow merging with the shadows of the night.
Once he was gone, the floodgates opened, and tears streamed down your face. Not just for him, or for what you once had, but for yourself—for the peace you hoped would come, for the healing that was yet to begin, for the strength you would need to rebuild from the ruins of a love lost.
In the quiet aftermath, you realized that this was not just a farewell to Suguru, but a necessary step towards reclaiming yourself. The love might linger, as deep-seated emotions often do, but your acknowledgment that "it will pass" was not just a hope; it was a promise to yourself.
It will be hard, you know that.
You’ll always be in love with him.
You will always want to love him.
But you need to live your life too.
“No more one in the world of zeros.”
You felt tears fall over and over again.
"But I wanted one of you. I wanted you."
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walk beside me, i feel you slipping away
eddie munson x female!reader
wc: 2.4k
warnings: henderson!reader, established relationship, worried girlfriend mode, secret relationship, idiots in love, smidge of angst
an: is another piece from my ao3 that's been sitting around forever. i re-read it today and thought "tumblr needs to see this"
summary: your stupid boyfriend has gone and gotten himself stuck in another dimension with a menagerie of blood-thirsty killers and no amount of knowledge of his little board game is going to help keep him alive. has it always been this hard to breath?
Late March, you wondered, it should still be cold now shouldn’t it?
The balmy wind closing around the bare strip of skin at your ankles begged otherwise. You toyed with the idea that maybe the Upside Down had an effect on the weather in Hawkins.
"Are you even listening!" Claudia Henderson’s voice cut through your moronic ideas on how other worldly demons affected the climate - it was desperate and thick with worry.
Your eyes snapped from where they'd fixated on a yellow lawn chair two houses over. Her face was shrouded in panic and your heart wrenched at the sight of her, if only she knew how much trouble they were truly in.
"Mom, I'm listening—" Liar. "I told you, they wanted to go take a look but I didn't want them to on their own, so I went with."
The chatter from inside was vibrating against the walls and the lights of the police cruiser still parked in the driveway flashed blue and red against the side of your mom's face.
"You let them go to the sight of a murder!" Claudia ran a shaky hand over her perfectly matted curls. "And— And this Eddie character? The police are saying that Dusty is a member of his satanic cult—"
You couldn't help the roll of your eyes. "Mom, it's not a cult."
The image was sharp in your mind, as if you were still standing at the edge of the water staring down at the dinghy.
Robin and Nancy were carefully squatted down near the front and Steve was steadying the boat from the shore.
Max, Lucas and your brother were lingering behind you, he was still sulking at being told he wouldn’t be joining the venture into the depths of the lake.
"Hey," Eddie's eyes pierced yours from where he was balanced up on the boat, he held a hand out for you to take - to step into the boat. Even in the darkness of the woods you'd felt the warmth of his gaze.
You'd glanced between him and the kids behind you, shaking your head. "I should ... I need to stay with them. Somebody has to."
Eddie had recoiled in surprise before leveling you with a panicked expression, "You don't have to, Steve is gonna stay with—"
You'd given him a wary glance, his response bordering on too suspicious for someone who wasn't supposed to know you that well.
"Eddie, it's fine. You guys go."
The boat had floated just a few feet before you'd called to them.
"Don't do anything stupid!" Your eyes locked with Eddie's who was perched at the back with the engine, "Please."
If Dustin had noticed anything, he hadn't said - and that offered at least small solace.
You and Eddie’s relationship was coming up on six months, yet somehow the pair of you had never really found the perfect moment to break it to your little brother that you were dating the captain of his little club and absolute teen idol. Or maybe you’d just gotten really good at avoiding the conversation.
As fate would have it, the three of you were thrown together to fight yet another monstrosity plaguing Hawkins - and while it was awkward - it didn’t happen to be the most pressing issue at hand.
"They have photos of Dusty wearing that club T-shirt—"
Claudia’s words were cut straight through by the slam of the screen door against the back wall and the parade of teenagers busting through it. Dustin raced towards you, gripping you by the arm and shoving the keys to your run-down station wagon into your palm: "We gotta go!"
It was pure instinct that drove your feet to kick off the ground after the four teenagers sprinting towards the end of the road. You didn't need to look back to know that a similar group of parents had to be trailing.
Your car was parked down the street, the faded red doors opening on every side as the kids clambered in and you threw yourself into the driver's seat simultaneously thrusting the keys into the ignition.
In your side mirror you watched your mother, Lucas and Mike's parents nearing the car. It took an exhausted groan from the engine before the car came alive, roaring down the street.
"Sorry mom!" You and Dustin yelled simultaneously out the window at your forlorn mother.
Only once they'd disappeared into tiny specks in your review could you turn to Dustin and his friends. "Where are we going?"
"Eddie's trailer." Lucas responded from the backseat.
Your stomach twisted and you turned to Dustin in the passenger seat, "Why are we going to Eddie's?"
Dustin gave a heavy sigh, "We think there's another gate there. The others went through Watergate and they're trapped in the Upside Down."
The car spluttered as it stalled loudly, your grip around the wheel loosening and your focus on driving the car deteriorating to almost none.
"W-What?" You were sure your face had turned a ghostly white and your heart had sunk down into the base of your stomach.
"Steve, Nancy, Robin and Eddie. They're down there!" Dustin clarified, watching you, both exasperated and confused at your behavior.
You could feel the stares of the teens heating up the back of your neck.
"A-Are they okay?" You stuttered, trying not to give away the terror gripping your throat.
"They're fine." It was Erica's turn, "Are you okay?"
You nodded wordlessly, turning your attention back to the steering wheel and restarting the car which had stalled all the way to a stop in the middle of the road less than two streets down from the Sinclair residence.
"Turn left here—"
"I know the way." You were so lost in your whirring thoughts that you hadn't bothered to worry about how that sounded.
There was a short confused silence before Dustin burst back into theories about the gates and Vecna's plan which before you might have made the effort to follow, but not right then.
Right then your stupid boyfriend had gone and gotten himself stuck in another dimension with a menagerie of blood-thirsty killers and no amount of knowledge of his little board game is going to help keep him alive.
Your heart thrummed against your chest with such force you were sure the rest of the car could hear it. If they could, they didn't mention it.
Picking up Dustin from his Hellfire Club meetings had been tedious, you generally arrived late when you worked closing shift at the diner: something you always melted with guilt over when you found him sitting on the curb outside the school with a tired look on his face.
Dustin was never alone though. On the curb next to him - leaning on his palms with his hair thrown back like Jon Bon Jovi - was always Eddie Munson.
Looking back, you were sure you'd loved him from the first fucking second he'd met your eyes. When he'd waltzed over to your window, leaning casually on it as Dustin climbed into the passenger seat.
"So this must be the other famous Henderson. Seems all the good looks were used up when it came to your turn, hey dweeb?"
Dustin had turned pink, you remember. "Don't hit on my sister, Eddie."
Parked under the afternoon sun in the school parking lot, it almost felt worlds away now. It wasn't long after that Eddie began to frequent your diner, somehow always managing to come in during your shifts - you only later found out that he'd bribed the busboy ten dollars to tell him what days you worked. Eddie would come in, flirt incessantly and order a chocolate milkshake. He came in every shift for two weeks before eventually asking:
"Do you wanna go out sometime?" You remember that dazzling grin, tilted down on the edges only by nervousness. "I know this really great diner we can go to, and the waitresses are really beautiful."
That was the beginning of the end. Your heart clenched tightly in your chest and another wave of nausea rushed over you when the image of Eddie stuck in the inky darkness of the Upside Down flashed across your mind again.
You thought then about how you never reminded him that you loved him before he climbed on that wretched little boat.
If Eddie died, you were going to kill him.
The trailer came into view of the car's headlights and you pulled to a park in front. None of the kids asked how you knew the way, but the question was plastered all over their faces.
You pretended you didn't notice and moved out the car.
The door was locked, but it only took a hard kick for the locks to buckle and the door to swing noisily open.
Someone gasped behind you, all five pairs of eyes staring up at the throbbing red opening in the middle of the living room ceiling.
"I told you ..." Dustin's voice trailed off in amazement.
Erica huffed loudly before striding into the kitchen where a broom was leaning against the counter. She grabbed it, "We should see whether it actually opens."
Dustin took the broom before lifting it to the hole. He prodded and thick red goo dripped from it onto the floor in front of them. Your face twisted in disgust and you heard Max mutter "ew" beside you.
It didn't take much nudging before the gate was a gaping hole in the ceiling. Everyone stepped beneath it to look up: on the other side you could see Steve, Nancy, Robin and Eddie.
The tightness in your chest eased only marginally and you sighed softly. He was smiling up at you.
"Are you guys okay?" You called and could hear the faint echoes of response.
"Yeah, we're okay!" Robin.
Dustin gathered a rope and you helped move Eddie's mattress just below the portal. Max's nose crinkled in disgust, motioning towards the stains littering the mattress and your cheeks grew hot, plagued by the knowledge of where more than a handful of the aforementioned stains had originated from. You avoided her eyes.
Robin was the first one through, she offered you a lopsided smile. Before she'd even stood straight up, you'd scooped her into your arms. "You guys just live to stress me out, you know that?"
She grinned over your shoulder, "Our life's purpose."
There was another thud of a second body hitting the mattress and warm relief flooded your veins when you turned to find your boyfriend beaming up at you. "That was fun."
He jumped up to his feet in front of you and had barely been offered the chance to straighten out when your hands shoved violently at his chest.
Eddie almost tumbled back down onto the mattress, then only really noticing the infuriated look on your face.
"You stupid—" Each word punctuated by another shove at the Hellfire Club logo splashed across his chest, "—idiot!"
His rings were cool when his hands closed over your wrists, "Princess, listen—"
"Eddie you could have been killed down there, by Vecna or the Mind Flayer or... or..." Your brain struggled for words and you only half registered the sound of your brothers confused question ("princess?") from somewhere behind you.
Suddenly it had grown harder to swallow around the growing lump in your throat, and in all honesty you couldn't tell whether you were more upset that he'd gone or more relieved that he had returned - his warm, apologetic eyes sinking into your own.
"Baby, baby," You'd stopped hitting him, his grasp sliding from your arms to your waist. "I'm fine, okay? We're all fine."
Your hands were shaking from the drawn out stress of the car ride over and the two tears that had been threatening to spill finally chased down your cheeks quietly.
"I'd wipe your tears..." Eddie was speaking quietly now, tucking a neat little cheeky grin into the corner of his mouth: "but my hands are covered in evil bat blood and I couldn't live with myself if I dirtied your pretty face."
You were halfway to scolding his impudence when Dustin beat you to the chase: "Can someone tell me what the fuck is going on!"
Like you'd both licked the end of a live wire, you and Eddie jolted back a foot, hands diving to your respective pockets.
"Isn't it obvious," Erica's voice was nonchalant and matter-of-fact, "they're dating."
Dustin's eyes widened, flickering between you and his beloved captain of the Hellfire Club. "No, they're not."
His voice dripped in uncertainty. You and Eddie didn't look at each other.
Dustin said your name into the awkward silence that had settled over the room, Robin was stifling down a giggle behind Max and Lucas. Thanks Robs.
"Tell Erica she's wrong." He pressed, but only weakly: like the reality had dawned on him. Like the puzzle pieces were sliding slowly into place.
Eddie was first to speak, "Look, buddy, there was never a great time to tell y—"
"Called it!" Erica's voice piped up triumphantly.
"You're dating my sister?" The volume in Dustin's voice had climbed significant decibels, "And you never told me!"
The giggle that escaped you was unintentional and you tried to choke it down under your words, "Dusty—"
"This isn't funny!" With each step you took forward, he took back.
Eventually you managed to manhandle him into a hug, "Dusty, I'm sorry. I'm sorry..."
Dustin didn't hug you back, but he didn't fight the arms around him. "I'm never forgiving you for this. Either of you."
You cut him loose and he glared a warm hole into your back as you retreated to the safety of Eddie's arms. Your forehead found solace at the cool leather against his collar bone. "If you ever abandon me to do something stupid like that again I'm breaking up with you."
"Well, I really don’t want that." His ring studded knuckle found your chin and turned your face towards his. Eddie's lips pressed gently against yours, holding it only for a few seconds before pulling back to pull you closer against his chest. "I'm sorry, princess."
Dustin's gagging noises were obnoxiously loud and Max muttered a quiet "ew" at the same time Lucas whispered a soft "aw".
"Oh shut up." You flipped the bird to your brother across the room. "It's not like you've never kissed your girlfriend before."
It suddenly occurred to you that his girlfriend lived halfway across the country, and he very well might have never kissed her.
You shrugged it off.
"Nancy! Nancy!"
All eyes turned up to the gate, beside you Eddie's fingers curled against yours. He squeezed your hand. "Here we go again."
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson#fic rec#fic recommendation#stranger things 4#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things
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gut-wrenching
summary: jj begs you to stay at his house to prevent his father from hurting him before a breakdown. when you’re there, you help him understand sympathy. the next morning, jj feels the same sympathy you described and also feels guilt.
warnings: mega mentions of abuse, jj’s shitty dad, MEGA ANGST, a bit of fluff but honestly mostly angst
pairing: jj maybank x kook!fem!reader
as you walked into his house, you regretted agreeing to jj’s protests for you to stay with him for the night. hours earlier, your blonde haired boyfriend had kissed you all over your face trying to convince you to come and sleep with him for the night, and you had eventually agreed.
“would be so nice. ‘m not allowed to come to your house no more because dad doesn’t let me. but i want to.” he’d cried, kissing your nose.
the hot tub bubbles surrounded you and you sighed. “jj, who cares what your dad says? he’s a dick. be a dick back.”
he frowned. “you don’t get it, do you, baby?”
you knit your eyebrows together, and eventually shook your head.
he sighed. “he said he’d break my nose if he heard ‘bout me being on figure eight again.”
you sighed, petting his wet hair. you felt terrible. the feeling was gut-wrenching. “you work there, though, right? at the country club?”
“yeah, i do.” he said, massaging your back. he turned on a jet and let it pound on your back. he knew it had been hurting a lot the past few days, and he’d been doing whatever he could to make you feel better. “he don’t care about me being on figure eight, to be honest. he just is mad ‘m dating the prettiest kook there is.”
you scoffed. “is that so?”
“yes, baby,” he kissed your cheek. “y’know, princess, he wanted me to rob you the other day.”
you gasped. your head felt like it was spinning. “what?”
“i didn’t—i didn’t do it, though, baby.”
“good,” you muttered. he kissed all over your face.
“he only cares that i don’t sleep your house. ‘cuz if i ain’t gonna steal, why go over at all?”
“oh. so he’s fine with you dating me?”
“yeah,” he said. he kissed your shoulder and sat up. “but he’s mad ‘cuz i didn’t rob you.”
“what?”
he chuckled. your heart dropped. you knew what he was about to say. “i haven’t been home in days, ‘cuz i know he plans to hurt me. but if you’re there, he ain’t gonna do it. gotta keep his reputation up, ‘m i right?”
your heart at the bottom of your stomach, your mouth open, and tears filling your eyes, you pulled him close into a hug and kissed the back of his head. “yes, j, you’re right.”
you felt the flutter of his adam’s apple when he let out a sob. he started crying tearless cries, holding onto your body like it was the only thing keeping him alive. “i hate it, i hate it!”
you cried with him, almost feeling the pain he felt. not almost—you did. you felt every bit of it. “i know. i know, j.”
“why won’t he stop?” he cried. you felt his tears coming down his face when they slid onto your back.
“jj, it’s okay. i love you so much. i’m coming over tonight, okay?? i’ll stay with you. i’ll do it. for however long you want me to.” you cried. tears slipped down your face, too.
“i love you. i love you. i love you, so much.” he sobbed. you tilted his body weight down, so you sat down together and you held him in your arms.
* now, you opened the door to jj’s house. it smelt like beer and weed. jj did both, but he never smelt like it. he was always able to clean it up and smell like some sort of tropical paradise or something.
so that way you knew it was luke. luke had contaminated jj’s air. you even heard coughing. but that wasn’t the worst thing you heard. it was definitely the loud music and the yelling. the floorboards creaked as you moved forward, praying jj wasn’t hurt.
music up to full blast, luke telling jj he was nothing but a disappointment, and jj’s cries and yells were the only thing you could hear. and so your breaths grew heavier and louder, faster and more panicked. you stepped into the hallway, watching the fight go down. you stayed quiet.
“SHUT UP!” yelled jj, his voice sounding like nothing but boyish cries. you only wanted to take him into your arms and kiss him until he felt better.
“you’re momma knew about you,” luke said, pointing his finger at jj. “if i woulda known you were gonna be like this, i woulda left with her. maybe then you would have shut your mouth in an orphanage, boy!”
luke went to swing at him, and jj sobbed. before luke could go any further, you cleared your throat.
they turned. jj’s eyes were droopy. it looked like he had no reaction. he just stared at you.
but luke chuckled and turned to you. “well, well, if it ain’t the kook princess!”
“mr. maybank,” you muttered breathlessly.
“you should be ashamed of yourself, girl,” he chuckled. jj got up quickly to protect you, but luke still hadn’t moved. “why would such a rich young lady want to date a bastard like him?”
you bit your lip. “i wouldn’t call him that, mr maybank.”
he bit the toothpick that had been in his mouth. “and why not?”
“your son, mr. maybank, is the sweetest boy i’ve ever met. i would say you raised him well but i’d be lying.”
he looked infuriated. jj shoved you out of the way so you wouldn’t get hurt, but even then luke hesitated.
“go on, now,” said luke. “i don’t wanna hear nothin from you two.”
“yes, sir,” you answered. you made sure jj was on the opposite side of luke as you followed him to his room.
jj immediately collapsed onto the foot of his bed, crying quietly. he didn’t want to anger his dad. besides, he knew that when you left he was going to hurt him anyway. he just didn’t wanna make it worse.
“j?” you said quietly, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. “are you okay?”
“get off of me,” he said quietly. you jerked your hand back quickly and sighed. you stood, grabbing your pillow and setting it next to the one that belonged to jj at the top of the bed.
“j, did he hit you?” you asked in a gentle voice.
he shook his head. “he was gonna. but you saved me. you stopped him. see what i mean? thank you, baby.”
you nodded, really wanting to hold him. but you didn’t want to touch him and scare him. “i didn’t do it just for you, you know?”
he looked up.
“i did it for me, too. every time i see you hurt, i feel your pain, too.”
he gave you a glare that suggested you were pushing it and you shut your mouth. when jj was vulnerable, he was ashamed of himself. he didn’t want to feel any more of the pain, so he shut down anything that might let him feel happy for sympathy.
“jj, you know i care about you, right?” you asked, placing your hand on his. you expected it to jerk away, but he only flinched slightly and sank into your touch.
“i know.”
you nodded, swallowing. “so you have to let me care about you. you need to let me hold you. you got to let me be honest with you.”
“honest, how?”
“j, if i let you get hit out there i honestly would have made him hit me, too. i promise you, jj. even my own injuries hurt less than what i feel knowing you’re hurt. can you understand that?”
he took a deep breath but finally nodded. “thank you.”
“i love you, okay?” you said, crawling closer to him. he nodded and kissed you, sighing right after.
“ ‘m sorry. it’s just, ‘m so scared that ‘m gonna be like him.” jj said. you felt your heart break.
“no,” you said. “you could never be like him. wanna know how i know that?”
he thought for a moment, then he said, “how?”
“because if you could treat someone important to you that way, you would have done it to me already.”
his frown turned into a smile. he sat up and kissed you, taking his time to lay down and cuddle with you after.
“when we have kids, i won’t do nothin’ to them. right?” he asked.
“right. i know you won’t.”
he looked you in the eyes, a glare shining like no other. “can you make sure i won’t?”
“i don’t have to.”
* the entire night had been the best feeling ever. knowing jj was safe and in your arms after waking up every hour to make sure of it relieved you like nothing before. the relief that flooded through you was so great that you almost cried, petting his hair and kissing his head for ten minutes straight before going back to bed. thankfully, he slept soundly through the night without your touch waking him.
jj was still asleep, buried deep in your chest with his arms around you when the sun shone through the windows and onto your eyelids, making them an orangish pink for you to wake up to.
you sighed of happiness, trying your best to wiggle out of bed without waking your sleeping boyfriend.
you creeped into the kitchen, hoping to find something you could cook for jj and have him wake to a good breakfast. you looked through the cabinets and the drawers, but almost everything was filled with beer.
and weed.
you sighed, knowing the beer was luke’s. you were looking through the last drawer when you heard footsteps, immediately regretting the fact that you had woke jj.
“jj, go back to sleep, i’m just gonna find something to eat for you, okay?” you asked, standing. when you stood, you saw that it was not jj, but luke. “oh, um… good morning mr. maybank?”
“i saw you going through my drawers and shit, girl, what do you want?” luke asked, coming closer.
you backed up to the counter, gripping it. “no, sir. i was just looking for something to make jj. he can get hangry if you know him. anyway, if you had other plans i can go back to bed.”
mr. maybank shook his head. “i don’t got no plans. wasn’t plannin on feedin him anyway. ‘sposed to punish him.”
“mr. maybank, sir, he has to eat. he hasn’t eaten in two days.”
“that’s his own fault. maybe he shouldn’t stay away from home for that long.”
you shook your head. “he has the right to eat. he’s starving. i heard hi stomach this morning.”
“you’re on his side?” luke asked, clenching his fists.
“no, sir, i—”
but you were punched. luke punched you over and over again, dropping you to the floor. blood sprayed on the floor and he kicked you in the gut.
you gasped for air but nothing came up. “mr..”
he stomped on your gut, punching you over and over again. there was a puddle of blood on the floor when he reached to punch your nose, but he was stopped.
jj had come in with a plastic foldable chair. “what is wrong with you??” he cried, kicking luke over and over again. first, he hit him with the chair, and then he grabbed a glass of beer from the table and poured it on top of him, smashing the glass right next to his face. he was sobbing, kicking and punching his father.
he drew his fists back, bloody and white. he cried, holding you tight. you could hardly move, but it was enough to drag jj’s foot away from luke, signaling not to fight anymore.
he cried more when he picked you up from the ground and carried you to his room. he sobbed on his bed, not only blood staining his sheets, but now also tears.
you could hardly talk, but it was enough to say, “i’m sorry, jj.”
he cried. “i know what you mean. i feel it. it’s gut-wrenching.”
“huh?”
“the—the feeling. like i feel your pain. but it feels worse.”
you nodded, just looking into his eyes with no emotion but pain. “jj, can we fix this, it… it hurts. am i going to die?”
jj broke at that, punching the wall. he hated luke so much. what kind of monster of a person would do that to someone?
he carried you to the bathroom and placed you on the counter. he lifted your shirt and gave you a tissue for your bloody nose. he disinfected your wound first and then cleaned it with water. you were not bleeding anymore, but he still had to patch you up.
there was another wound on the other side, so he copied the process and tenderly kissed it when he was done. he wet a rag in the sink and cleaned your face off, and soon you looked clean with a few cuts and a black eye, but you were no longer bleeding and you looked beautiful to him. he looked at you with eyes of nothing but love and a tear slipped from his eye. “i’m sorry. so sorry. i know i said i’d be safe here, but i didn’t think about you. well, i did, but i thought you would be safe, too. i’m moving out of here. i don’t care about my dad no more. i’m leaving and i’m moving into the chateau.”
you winced, suddenly feeling the pain once more. “move in with me. my parents love you. and i do too. i love you, jj.”
“i love you, too, pretty girl. i’ll never let this happen to you again.”
—————-——————————————————
a/n: bro. almost cried while writing this for some reason?? lots of angst.
part two here!
#jj mayback x reader#jj maybank#jj mayback imagine#jj obx#outerbanks#jj x reader#jj x y/n#jj x you#jj x kook!reader
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𝙨𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙙𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙡𝙚𝙚! 𝙝𝙖𝙣 — 𝙙𝙖𝙮 4: 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨
𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖘: 1.3k
𝖑𝖊𝖊: han
𝖑𝖊𝖗: minho and felix
𝖆/𝖓: too much angst man
𝖙𝖜: ANGST ANGST ANGST— rough tickles, soft tickles, minho is bullied but it ends up okay..
𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @someone-who-loves-kpop-saranghae @jeonginsdiary��@leeknowstan33 @v--143 @wereallgonnadieonedaybutnottoday @inkytornpagess @lajanaa @a-wild-seungberry @channieissocute125 @soap143 @seungsluvv @skznccmlee @moony-9 @sunny-117
𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞? 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐛s 🐾
“It’s okay, Ji, let it all out.” Felix sighed, rubbing up and down a sobbing quokka’s shoulders.
“I’m s-sorry…”
“No, don’t apologize, does it hurt?” Felix pressed lightly against the bandage on Hannie’s side. The boy hissed and let out another wave of broken sobs.
Felix almost felt like crying along with him, unable to handle the sight of his sunshine crying.
“He y-yelled at me…” Jisung whimpered. Felix’s eyebrows furrowed as a wave of sadness took over. “He’s never yelled at me b-before…”
“He’s stressed, you know that.” Lixie cooed, patting up and down the poor boy’s back.
“I—”
Jisung’s phone rang with another missed call, which Han clearly didn’t bother picking up. His 37th one.
“You should answer him…” Felix whispered, but Jisung shook his head.
“Let’s see who’s childish and clingy now.”
—————————
“Jisung!!” Minho called sharply. The younger froze in his spot. “I taught you this move so many times, but you still can’t get it right? Why is that? Are you even trying?”
Changbin shot the quokka a sympathetic look, Chan glaring at Minho was if to warn him.
“I-I am trying…It’s just—”
“Oh, save it. You don’t know how to even do the simplest move right, but you do know how to be childish and clingy all the time, correct?”
“Minho!” Chan interjected, but the damage had already been done.
“Okay…” Jisung gulped, tears spilling over and onto the floor. Splish splash.
“Oh, and here comes the water works.”
Anger suddenly turned Jisung’s vision red, and he walked slowly over to Minho with a dangerous look, causing the older to almost shrink under the quokka’s fury.
With one swift movement, Jisung slapped Minho. Hard.
Chan gasped, Changbin ran to restrain the now sobbing boy as Minho stood, stunned in his spot.
“Let go!!” Jisung wrenched his arms out of Binnie’s grip. Hyunjin and Felix watched in horror. “Fuck you, Lee Minho.” And with that he was out. Followed by Felix, of course.
—————————
38 Missed Calls.
Jisung grabbed his phone, unable to bear the sound of his own ringtone anymore. He couldn’t even see the messages on his phone through his blurry eyes, but he could make out a few words. Sorry…I love you.
Hannie scoffed. He calls me clingy and then blows up my phone not half an hour later.
With a heavy heart, he hit the block button, sighing in relief at the silence now suddenly blaring loud in his room.
Jisung knew he’d forgive Minho sooner or later. He had probably forgiven him already.
The quokka decided to try and give the older a chance. He knew Minho wasn’t like this and he felt bad for the pure amount of stress that seemed to be cracking the dancer like a walnut.
Jisung headed along the corridor, keeping his gaze out to the front and ignoring any person who walked by him, staring in shock at his teary eyes and wet face.
He heard a different voice call Minho’s name, and he peeked around the corner, hearing a loud voice screaming at what sounded like…his hyung?
Jisung stood on his tippy toes, intently staring through the tiny glass window on the door as he watched their manager yell at Lino, who seemed to be on the verge of tears.
Although he hadn’t completely forgiven Minho, he felt a surge of anger and protectiveness in his veins.
“How could you get into a fight with him!! Don’t you see how bad this is? If the fans see you two being awkward they’re gonna suspect things. Keep calling him, pathetic.” The man spat at the now crying Minho, who whimpered out an apology as he pressed call, and Jisung felt guilt hit him like a truck.
“Get out of my sight…” Hannie heard.
Jisung ran back to Minho’s room, intent on finding the older and comforting him. Oh, hyung. If only you’d have told us…why do you insist on suffering this way.
Jisung sat and waited, hearing frantic footsteps echoing in the hall until Minho burst in, not even noticing the quokka, slamming the door and sinking to the floor sobbing.
Jisung immediately ran over, pulling his hyung into a tight hug and carding a hand through his hair, hearing Minho choke quietly.
“Sung-ah?” He asked, a tone that said so much and so little at the same time, whispery and quiet.
“If you had only told me…” Jisung hushed the older.
“I’m so sorry, baby. So sorry—I would’ve never said that to you, ever…I wasn’t in my r-right mind, I swear baby—” Minho’s sentence was cut off with a painful gasp as he hyperventilated, a broken whimper slipping out of him before he could hold it back.
“Hey…no. If you had just told me how you were feeling, not bottling it up, I would’ve cut you some slack, hyung.” Jisung sighed. “You scared me today, I thought I had done something wrong. I was injured, see?” He pointed at the bandage wrapped around his side.
“N-No…It’s my fault—all of it is…P-Please don’t hate me…”
“No. Never. I could never hate you.” Jisung whispered back, cradling the older’s head and cooing gently to calm the distressed cat down.
A little while passed, small comforting words exchanged between the two to heal whatever wounds were caused in the day’s incident.
Jisung finally managed to coax Minho into his room, Felix sitting on the bed with a concerned expression as the two slumped next to him.
Minho sighed. “What do we do now?”
Felix suddenly had an idea, a smile creeping up his face as he rolled over onto Jisung’s waist, sneakily straddling it with a smirk.
Hannie’s eyes widened, but it was too late. Minho grabbed both his wrists and forced them over his head.
“Wait wait—AGH!!” Jisung shrieked suddenly, Felix gently clawing at his tummy. “Wahahahait!!” He smiled fully for the first time that day.
Minho beamed fondly down at the younger, who was throwing his head side to side as Lixie continued to run his nails along Hannie’s belly and sides. “Stahahahaa IHIT TICKLES!!” Jisung squealed cutely.
Minho decided to help, tentatively sticking the quokka’s hands beneath his knees and tracing his nails along with Lixie’s, earning a loud squeak along with more breathy giggles.
“You both need to destress.” Felix sighed. “Hohohow ihihis this dehehestressing?!” Jisung giggled hysterically; Lino’s hands had moved to the crevices of his ribs, trailing his nails along lightly.
“Hyung destresses by tickling you, you destress by being tickled. Win win!” Felix cheered, tickling along the quokka’s sides with just the white of his nails.
“Why don’t you destress too, Lix?” Minho gestured towards Jisung’s lower sides with a diabolical grin; Felix caught onto what he was saying immediately.
Hannie whined when he was stretched further, letting out a gasp when Felix moved his clothing out of the way. “Not there…! I can’t take it there!” He pleaded.
It all fell on deaf ears. Jisung screamed when Felix latched his thumbs to his lower sides, kneading into the warm skin, as the poor boy beneath him arched up completely, shaking his head side to side in ticklish despaeration. “PLEHEHEHEASE NOHO PLEHEHEHHEASE!! MEHEHEHERCYYY!!”
“Do you forgive Minho hyung? He’s truly sorry, you know?~”
“YEHEHEHEHEAAHH YEHEHES IHI FORGIVE HIHIHIMM!!” Hannie hiccuped through his bouts of loud laughter.
“Hmm…Do you promise to take a break and be with me more?” Minho asked, drilling into the quokka’s sides mercilessly and watching the poor boy go ballistic beneath him.
“I WIHIHIHILL I WILL PLEHEASE PLEASE AGHAHHAHAHAAAHHAA!!”
“Poor baby~” Minho cooed. “Can’t handle it?”
“I CAHAHAHANT!! I CAHANT TAHAHAKE IHIT!!”
“Okay okay, let’s let go of him.” Felix sighed, grabbing a red lollipop from his bedside, a taste Jisung had grown quite accustomed to.
Felix smiled and handed it to the boy, just to lock eyes with Jisung, twin evil grins flashing on the sunshines’ faces.
“Oh hyung?~” Jisung called. Felix added, “I think you might need a little destressing now…”
“Wahait…WAAHAHAHAHAIT!!”
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Traitor - Dalton Lambert
Pairing: Dalton Lambert x Reader
Warnings: angst, teeny tiny bit of fluff, spoilers if you haven't seen the movie yet
Prompt: "The worst thing is,that even after all of that, I’m still in love with you.”
A/N: If I can, I'm gonna try and post my fics for my celebration back to back! Thank you to the sweet anon who requested this, I am so sorry in advance. Hope you guys all enjoy and please let me know what you think, I love you all! xxx
You unwillingly opened your eyes as a shiver ran down your spine, it was so dark here, the lantern in your hand was your only light. It was so silent that you could practically hear your heart thumping in your chest and your blood pumping in your ears. Your boyfriend was here, and you had to find him, you had to get rid of the damn demon that was using his body.
Though, you didn’t want to call out for him because you knew it would alert all the other entities to your presence. Up ahead, you saw a light like your own and you made your way towards it. A tall man was carrying a lantern and he looked extremely distressed, when he noticed your light he made his way towards you quickly.
“I need your help,” he started in a quiet voice, “I’m looking for my son, Dalton.”
“I’m looking for Dalton too,” when the man tilted his head in confusion, you elaborated, “I’m Y/N, his girlfriend.”
The man laughed a little, “it’s good to meet you, Y/N, despite the circumstances, I’m Josh, Dalton’s dad. Now, let’s go and get our boy back.”
You nodded and you both travelled deeper into The Further. Eventually, you came across the red door and you shuddered in fear as you knew what lurked behind it. With a firm nod, both you and Josh walked up to the door and turned the handle, walking down the red corridor. As you got closer to the cave, you could hear the song. The song that almost caused you to have a panic attack every time it came on the radio.
Josh rushed forwards while you were frozen in fear at the boyfriend in the small cage, you watched Josh pull Dalton by his chains, destroying them in the process. Dalton and Josh ran back to you before the demon could come back.
“Y/N!” he called your name as he pulled you into his arms, before he pulled back to look at you slightly to look at your face, “how are you here?”
Before you could answer, Josh interrupted, “guys, we have to go! Now!”
You and Dalton nodded as you quickly followed Josh back down the hallway, heading for the door. You were halfway to the door when the demon came after you, making you scream.
“Run!” Dalton yelled and when Josh reached the door he threw all his weight at the door as he wrenched it open, the three of you spilling back into the darkness.
You and Josh stood with your backs firmly against the door as the demon wailed behind it, trying to get through. You looked at Dalton who was pale and shaking, you’d never seen him look so scared.
“We can’t hold it back!”
“We have to try,” Josh replied.
In that moment, you knew what you had to do, you shook your head and looked at the two Lambert men, “you two have to go.”
“What? No, I’m not leaving you here!” Dalton argued.
“Out of the question!” Josh agreed.
The door splintered and you gasped as your knees buckled, “you have to! Find a way to close the damn door from out there!”
Tears were flowing down Dalton’s cheeks now as he cupped your jaw, “I love you so much,” he sniffled and kissed you deeply.
“I love you too,” you whispered, memorising his handsome face, and you heard the wood creak, “you have to go! Go, now!”
Josh nodded at you with tears in his eyes as he pulled his son away, Dalton’s eyes didn’t leave yours, not until the darkness swallowed them up.
Even though it was the hour of your death, you weren’t scared, you couldn’t think of a better reason to die, or a better person to die for. You suddenly heard a faint dripping noise that made you look up, there was black ooze sliding down the surface of the door and it took you a little while to realise what it was. A smile spread across your face when you realised it was paint. You felt your eyes close as the darkness closed in around you.
The next thing you knew, you were gasping for air and Dalton pulled you into his arms, sobbing into your neck, “you’re back! I’m so glad you’re okay!” he pulled back to look at your face, “you saved me.”
You smiled and cupped his cheek, “I’d do anything for you, but we should talk about this.”
Dalton shook his head, “in the morning, we don’t have to talk about it right now,” he was cut off by his phone ringing, “dad? Yeah she’s okay,” he grinned at you, he had a quick conversation with his dad before hanging up.
“Will you stay with me tonight?” you asked.
“Of course.”
The next day, you and Dalton went out for breakfast and you knew that you had to tell him. You had to tell him everything, even if it meant you’d lose him.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I could travel.”
“Babe, you don’t have to apologise, it’s an amazing coincidence.”
God, he was so innocent and sweet, and you were about to shatter his whole world view, “it’s not a coincidence, Dalton.”
“What?” he asked frowning at you and you sighed as you told your story.
“I was about 13 when that awful demon trapped me in The Further. He tried to possess me but he couldn’t, I don’t know why. I struck a deal with him, you in exchange for me. I thought it was just a bad dream, until about a year ago.”
“And then, we met about 6 months later,” he mumbled, a crease forming between his eyebrows, “you knew who I was when we met?” when you nodded, he sighed as his eyes went glassy with tears, “what was the point of you even getting to know me if you were just going to hand me over?”
“Because it takes time to open the door again. When you and your dad had your memories suppressed, the door was closed to you.”
He shook his head as he ran a hand through his hair, “you encouraged me to find out more about the door, encouraged me to open it further,” he muttered.
“I cared more about my freedom than I did about you, you were just another cute guy,” your heart twisted as his tears streamed over his lips and he made no attempt to wipe them away, “and then, something changed, it was like I was seeing you for the first time. I developed feelings for you. I wanted to be with you all the time. I love you, Dalton.”
He shook his head, “you lied to me for 6 months, Y/N, if you had only told me I would have helped you get your freedom. I would have done anything for you.”
“I know, and I’m so sorry.”
“I can’t believe the woman who led me on so cruelly would be the one who was so willing to die for me.”
“You don’t deserve to be trapped there, Dalton.”
He scoffed, “y’know, the worst thing is, that even after all of that, I’m still in love with you. And, it makes me sick,” his face shut down and he got up, “I don’t want to see you, Y/N.”
“For how long?” you asked, your heart breaking.
“I don’t want to see you ever again,” he whispered and then he was gone, out of the diner. Out of your life. Forever.
#dalton lambert#dalton#dalton x reader#reader x dalton#angst#josh lambert#insidious 5#insidious#the red door#insidious the red door
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OKAY EVERYONE WHO TOLD ME TO JUST WAIT FOR THE START OF SEASON 2 YOU ARE SO FUCKING RIGHT OH MY GOD
THE DARK ERA ARC OF BSD GOES SO FUCKING HARD I AM GOING FERAL I FINALLY SEE WHY EVERYONE LOVES THIS SHOW SO MUCH
JESUS FUCKING CHRIST
THIS IS THE ANGST I LIVE FOR
ARRRRRRRGHHFFVBCKXGKCKBKHDHDK I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT IT
you guys have managed to make me think about something other than death note for once are you proud guys are you proud
my thoughts so far below the cut 👇
so i have just finished episode 3 and AAAAAAAA
i have heard vague spoilers so i know of Oda's unfortunate fate but I AM NOT READY
WTF THEY FUCKIN BLEW UP THE KIDS IM SORRY???? LIKE I KNEW HE WAS GONNA BE DRIVEN TO BREAK HIS PACT BUT NOT LIKE THIS!!!! also the sound design of that entire section was *chef's kiss* like i was nearly crying i was not okay
and the metaphor of oda giving up on writing his book ughhhhh i love how they addressed the idea of becoming a murderer being irreversible and changing your entire life, in a world so filled with bloodshed that can easily fall through the cracks. my heart was absolutely breaking when he gave up on that dream. THEY FUCKIN DROVE MY BOY TO THIS POINT I CAN'T I WILL KILL THEM I WILL MURDER EVERY LAST ONE OF THEM FOR HURTING HIM okay im fine i promise
dazai's speech about how everything good gets wrenched away from him was fuckin heartbreaking. especially given that i know that things obv don't work out between him and chuuya. god someone needs to give my boy a hug he is too tragic
OH ALL OF THESE CHARACTERS ARE SO TRAUMATISED AND SO COMPLEX AND SO 3D AND I LITERALLY WANT TO SQUEEZE ALL OF THEM AND HUG THEM AND
oh yeah also i have not given up on my vision of mello in the bsd universe currently i am thinking of having all three of the successors as a power trio who decide to take on the world (i.e. yeah the port mafia) together cause they can. but im kinda stuck on what their abilities should be. anyways that was a sidetrack
BUT YES I LITERALLY CANNOT WAIT TO WATCH EPISODE 4 but alas sleep beckons. i will probably be back here screaming once i watch it haha
ARFJFVBGVCXHY HERE COMES THE BSD BRAINROT YIPPEE 🏃🏃🏃
if you got this far, thank you for reading my absolute brain splurge! have a cookie 🍪
#bsd#bungou stray dogs#bungo stray dogs#dark era bsd#oda sakunosuke#odasaku sakunosuke#dazai osamu#dark era dazai#plus a few dn mentions cause i couldn't help myself
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𝐼 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊.
Summary: Long after you and Eddie break up, it's still affecting both of you.
Author’s note: I know I keep posting so much angst and I'm sorry lol. I asked some friends if they'd be interested in reading my Edancy fics reworked as Reader fics and they said yes! It felt like such a shame those fics didn't get the love I thought they deserved so I hope they can get a second chance as Reader.
CW: Mentions of drugs and smoking.
Word count: 1k
Any hate will not be tolerated, constructive criticism is welcomed.
The first few weeks after a breakup are the worst; the depression of missing them, the uncertainty of if you made the right choice in ending the relationship, the regret of not doing or saying something you wish you had. That’s how you had constantly been feeling. You’d felt so anxious you could barely eat, sleep, or concentrate on any of your schoolwork and frankly, you looked terrible.
Even though you had been the one to break it off, you regretted it almost instantly. You still loved him; you were still hopelessly in love with him, but you knew the relationship could never work. You both came from two completely different worlds, the likelihood of you working out and lasting longer than high school was slim. And you didn’t want to prolong the inevitable or put him through any unneeded pain.
Anytime you saw Eddie around school, your heart ached. While on the outside he was laughing and joking with his friends, you knew on the inside he was just as heartbroken as you were – probably even more. The breakup had destroyed him, he’d spent several days in his room, smoking all the drugs he had and drinking until he couldn’t even remember what day it was.
From across the lunchroom, your eyes met and in that moment, it was like you’d never broke up. He still looked at you like you were the centre of his universe and the whole would didn’t matter when he saw you, and it almost made you cry. He still looked at you with so much love and care, but you couldn’t accept it anymore.
You looked away, certain if you looked too long, you truly would begin to cry. Hastily, you packed up your things and rushed out of the room. You tried your best to keep your composure as you powerwalked down the hallways towards the bathrooms, but you broke down in controllable sobbing. Leaning against a wall, you slowly slid down it until you were sat on the floor with your head in your hands.
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop crying. And it wasn’t her normal “pretty” crying, this was full on ugly, gut-wrenching sobbing. It felt like all the weeks of keeping it inside her, seeing his eyes made it impossible to hold anything back.
You heard footsteps slowly approach and stop right in front of you, but you were so blinded by your tears you could barely make out whose shoes they were. It wasn’t until you felt arms around you, bringing you into a warm chest that you tried to see who it was.
Eddie.
Who else could it have been?
You shook your head, trying to get away from him as you wiped your tears as best as you could with your hands and the sleeve of your sweater. “I’m sorry, you should go.”
It was Eddie’s turn to shake his head, refusing to let you go. “No, I’m staying.”
You looked up at him, tears still falling down your cheeks, even after all your efforts to stop them. “But why? I broke up with you, I completely broke you. Why do you care that I’m suffering?”
Eddie let out almost a bitter chuckle, his own eyes watering a little as he held back his own tears. “Sweetheart, do you think I care for you so little that breaking up with me would make a difference?”
You blinked a few times, almost unable to speak without stuttering. “What? I don’t-”
Gently hushing you, he cupped your cheek, his thumb drying your eyes. “I’m not gonna lie, you fucked me up pretty badly by breaking up with me. But I know why you did it, and don’t lie to me by saying it was because you stopped loving me. I can see it – I know you still love me, I still love you, too. But you know I’m no good and you wanted to save me the pain for later.
“I fuckin’ miss you, sweetheart. You were the best thing that ever happened to me. When you were there, I didn’t need drugs or alcohol to feel something, you could just hold my hand, and it would give me the same rush. Whenever you’d come to The Hideout, you were the only person who mattered, even if a hundred people were there, as long as my girl was there, it would be a great show.
I’d give anything to have you back, but I know we can’t, and I,” he paused to catch his breath, “I’m sorry I couldn’t be what you needed me to be.”
You almost started crying again when you saw him upset, you pressed your forehead against his and closed her eyes, with him doing the same. “You might not have been my first love, Eddie. But I wanted you to be my last… I still do, I still want you to be my last. I still want a forever with you, but we can’t have it anymore and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I can’t give you that.”
The pair of you held each other in silence after that, the floodgates finally opening for both of you, and the tears freely came down. The bell rang to signal the end of lunchbreak, causing you both to laugh through your tears and clamber to your feet, your hand automatically sliding into Eddie’s.
Once you realised what you had done, you quickly let go of his hand. You both did your best to wipe your eyes and try to make it less obvious that you’d been crying but your spoiled makeup and Eddie’s puffy eyes gave it away pretty quickly.
You stared at each other, trying to figure out what to say and where you should go after the words you’d exchanged. You knew you couldn’t get back together, but you couldn’t go back to never speaking to each other, either. So, the obvious third option would be to become friends but even that would be a difficult idea.
“So, what happens now?” Eddie asked.
“I don’t know,” you answered, shrugging your shoulders. “I guess we take things a day at a time.”
#spilled ink#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfiction
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All hail, Yura 🙌👏👏👏 ALL HAIL, YOU
Can Gege just step aside and just let YOU reboot the series from now on? 👉👈 or if not reboot, at least give you the license to do an official alternate timeline where SatoYura is center stage 😍
The way I chucked my phone across the bed when Yura achieved her miracle... I-- 😭😭 You did it, Yura.. YOU DID IT.
And Satoru 😭💔 Lovely Satoru.. he's so in love with her and he doesn't even know it.
And and and... the breakdown scene
It was beautiful and heart-wrenching and to see and feel so much tenderness and love oozing out of Satoru as he held her and desperately wished he could do something, anything to alleviate that burden from her and soothe her is just so 🥹😭😭.. i'm honestly at a loss for words.
(You weren't kidding about that hospital scene you referenced some time ago 🥹)
Chapter 10 really had me despairing about how it's only going to get worse, and then the end of the chapter came around and now I'm just grinning and squealing like an insane person 😁
LAWRD HELP... THAT WAS THE BEST TWIST EVER 😭 Tsumiki deserves this OMG 😭😭
All the other fics I've read just let Tsumiki be cursed. You're one of the precious few who saved her and I love all of you 😫😭
Can't wait to see more of what Yura can do 🔥
me @ gege: your story is great, but for my own mental health i'm gonna fix it now thank
no, but srsly thank you <33 I'm in way too deep with this story now so I'm glad to see I dragged other people down with me bwahahaha
this chapter was a roller coaster of emotions!! it was so hard to write but it seems to have paid off hehe. Satoru really is hopelessly in love but doesn't realize it, like sir your heart is breaking right now why do u think that is
(That hug scene really was a major inspiration for that one part in this chapter! I knew I wanted to add something like that in, just had to figure out how to get there lmao)
...I may have misled you guys with thinking this chapter was just more angst (ʘ‿ʘ✿) but unlike Gege, I can only handle so much sadness and despair so I knew I had to put a stop to it soon! but also the big battle from JJK0 is also coming up, so there's more angst in the horizon...
and about Tsumiki: she's a bit of a non-character in canon, isn't she? we don't really get to know her that well, but we do know that she's important to Megumi, so it was always sad to read fics that just kind of toss her aside, like when the characters basically adopt Megumi but completely forget about her.
I do have to admit that happened to me at the beginning, like when I was writing the flashforward chapters, I was gonna have Tsumiki still be in a coma until much later and then I started actually writing Tsumiki into the story and I was like D: wait a minute, Yura wouldn't be all happy and fine if Tsumiki was still in a coma!! So I adjusted some plans and there we go that's what we got (◡‿◡✿)
Anyway, thank you again, and now on to the next chapter! ...at some point, I still need to start editing it lmao
#asks#satoyura#do i start tagging satoyura spoilers or is that too presumptuous of me lmao#cause this is all from the new chapter
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TAEHYUNG WHEN I CATCH YOU TAEHYUNG TAEHYUNG WHEN I CATCH YOU TAEHYUNG 😤😤😤😤😭😭😭 i knew this was coming i could feel him scheming since that damn club night 🤧 It’s sad bc he technically doesn’t know that OC has romantic feelings for him so it’s not like he’s trying to break her heart on purpose but the painnnnnnn 😭 OC is stronger than me bc personally i would’ve been screaming, crying, and throwing up! I cannot wait for the angst to come it’s gonna be so good!!!
I swear every time Namjoon, Jungkook, and OC enter the Sanders’ house some shit always goes down 👀 honestly even i felt relieved when they didn’t let her conduct the sessions with the spirits. It tugged on my heartstrings to see the boys so worried for her especially Yoongi who was so scared of losing her again :(( even seeing Hoseok who is very much a non believer getting all worked up over it was crazy but honestly who wouldn’t after hearing that audio!!! But omg poor Jungkook! Just imaging those claw marks makes me cringe 😭 He truly is so fearless! I’d feel safe ghost hunting with him lol
Also i’m so glad we’ve learned a little more about Yoongi and his mom! I’ve always been curious about how his mother passed. It must’ve been so hard for him to lose her so tragically :( Plus the song! stop i will cry!! Every time we learn a sad detail from the boys past i just think about how lucky they are to finally be part of a home where they are so loved and don’t have to worry about being alone again :((((
FDKJSAFHA RUN TAE RUNNNNNN!!! Ugh I wonder if he'll be able to sense her feelings in the next update, her sense of betrayal and whatnot :( Hopefully whatever he's up to is short-lived. I too would be on the floor weeping if I was Y/N 😭
Oh for SURE shit is always nuts at the Sanders' house! They got some nastyyyy spirits and demons in that place, so hopefully the trio can get rid of the haunting in the upcoming chapter!!! I agree, Namjoon and Jeongguk showed that rare moment of wanting to protect Y/N strongly, even if it was subtle and in their own way. AHHHH poor Yoongi that was such a heart-wrenching scene to write tbh. Y/N means so much to him, and I think even the smallest threat that she might disappear on him again devastates the poor guy 😭
Resident skeptic Hoseok coming around to some of the ghosts I think!! Seeing how serious everyone else was getting about it, especially after hearing the audio, triggered that worked up reaction from the fox hybrid. But YES I sooo agree even IRL out of all the tannies I'd feel safest with Jeongguk. Dude has noooo fears and he's big and strong!!
Ahhhh again, poor Yoongi 😭🥺 Whenever I get to his prequel in the distant future, there will be even more background on his mother, their relationship, and her death. BUT 🥺🥺🥺 YESS They're all so so loved and cared for now, I think each of them are coming to terms with that one by one, which is the sweetest thing of all 💜💜
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🎶✨when you get this, list 5 songs you like to listen to, publish. then, send this ask to 10 of your favourite followers (positivity is cool)🎶✨(this is not mandatory, no pressure 🙏)
Thank you so much for the asks and for the positivity @f-oighear, @loosesodamarble, and Anon-friend! 💖 You are all so lovely, and I'm so flattered that you're so interested in my music tastes. I thought it would be best to combine my answers to your asks into a big list in one post, and I tried to pick songs that I've listened to within the last week. I hope you like them!!
For Oighear (I tried to pick songs that I feel fit you and/or your amazing fics' vibe, so I hope you like these!) [Spotify and YouTube Links]
To Begin Again (YouTube) by Ingrid Michaelson & ZAYN (I actually learned of this song from you, and I can't stop listening to it, so thank you so much for introducing me to it!)
Wallflower (YouTube) by Molly Parden, The Brook & The Bluff
Must Have Done Something Right (YouTube) by Relient K (genre wise this is might seem out of left field lol, but it reminds me of Astelle, especially the delightful way you write them and it was on a playlist I was listening to yesterday so I've included it!)
Ceilings (YouTube) by Lizzy McAlpine
Better (YouTube) by Regina Spektor
Since I included a song I know you knew already here's a bonus one: You (YouTube) By A Great Big World
***
For Erika (most of these are either heart-wrenching angst or 'finding healing' and/or 'learning to love again' songs so I hope you'll like them! And I've listed 6 here so there would be a balance of angst & post-angst) [Spotify and YouTube Links]
It's Gonna Be OK (YouTube) by BANNERS
Wrecked (YouTube) by Imagine Dragons (this is the Sanemi Shinazugawa song. I don't make the rules!)
In The Stars (YouTube) by Benson Boone
Let Your Heart Hold Fast (YouTube) by Fort Atlantic (could be a Nacht song? Maybe? Is it too much of a reach??)
She's Got A Way (YouTube) by Billy Joel
Perfectly Broken (YouTube) by BANNERS (again) (Who hurt you, BANNERS????)
***
For Anon-Friend (these are just some songs that I've been listening to a lot recently and that I really enjoy and hope you will too!) [Spotify and YouTube Links]
A Summer Song (YouTube) by Chad & Jeremy
When You're Gone (YouTube) by The Cranberries
About A Girl (YouTube) by The Academy Is...
Beautiful World (YouTube) by The Chevin
Something Changed (YouTube) by Pulp
And a bonus: Sunset on Summerville (YouTube) by Madds Buckley (It's a fan song, but I cannot get enough of it!! So good!)
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every single remus version you have written so far is about to catch these hands cause wtf.
I MEAN COME ON JUST FUCKING BE HAPPY ITS NOT THAT HARD??
anyways loved the new chap and i love rem being a stupid fucken doofus AND SIRIUS PUTTING HIM IN HIS PLACE YES BABY
also i feel as though amelia is gonna be a big fucking problem for my whim baby. i swear if she hurts her im going to riot. pitch forks and torches.
i want more sirius putting people in their places (shit is hot 🤭🤭) hoping it’s amelia next🫣
(i do feel a little bad though, it’s either she’s going to be a problem or she’s going to be extremely hurt AND I DONT LIKE SEEING GIRLS HURT NO NO)
anyways i think the reason why your stories work so well is because you mesh ALL the characters into the story, it’s never just r and said character ITS A WHOLE PRODUCTION AND A HALF👏👏
ohhh i can’t wait for the angst between james, sirius, and rem and then heart wrenching angst between rem and my whimsical baby😮💨😮💨
(also a little note i saw u post abt the drink snob: if you are willing to finish the story (which is fully up to you, no one can force you to do anything) i think you can start it off with r finally starting work in the restaurant! i think the interview process with rem’s parents would be so cute, while she learns stuff abt him cuz his mom is adorable and won’t stop talking abt her kids (all of them) maybe she gets a little peak -fully accidental- abt what it is rem and the little gang is actually doing. just a few ideas for you lovely, it’s all up to you and what you feel comfortable in doing! 🫶💗)
YES YES YES THERE YOU ARE - everytime I post a new chapter/piece I literally sit at the computer like:
….waiting to see what frostooo has to say 💃🏻
I know rem is such a dumb dumb it was getting hard to write cuz he was pissing me off so much (even tho it’s my own damn fault??)
I was like, okay, someone’s gotta humble this man, and who better than my fellow November Scorpio??????
I think someone needs to look at Amelia and be like “………babes…..why u letting this mans treat you like this????………….be better” like which friends of hers are letting her hopelessly pine over this dumpster fire of a man rn???? Bad friends, she needs new friends.
Also, I’m the kind of person who like, the thing I’m most proud of/what I brag about to people is my relationships. Like my relationship with my friends I’ve known since I was 4, being an aunt & godmama like these things are the coolest thing about me so I wouldn’t be who I am without my friends AND THATS HOW OUR BABIES ARE?!?!? Sirius is who he is cuz of his friends, and James, and Remus etc etc - they are integral to the story because they’re integral to the characters!!!
I’m going to mood board about drink snob - usually I have an idea of how I want a story to end before I write it (I knew the ending of CBBH and of AMWAP before I knew what happened in the middle), so it feels weird to write without a plan. (Omg, a plan, I sound like Remus)
Okay bye love you drink lots of water today 🫶
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angst/hc prompts #17. "You don't have to be alone anymore." 🥰😊
You got it, my love 🥰💕
Hurt/Comfort Prompt List
Scheherazade (Vash/Reader, 810 words)
“Well!” he says, faux cheerfully. “It’s been fun, but this is where we part!”
You knew this was coming: you’re only surprised it didn’t happen sooner. You’ve seen the way he pushes away everything that comes too close in the hopes of protecting them from the danger of his life—isolates himself in the name of helping others—and it’s been a while since you met, since you decided to stick by his side (for your own aims at first… but you can no longer pretend this partnership is entirely self-serving, at least in that way). He allowed your company for a shockingly long time, but it was only a matter of time until you got hurt, however innocuously—just a gash on your arm. And now he’s trying to leave. For your own good.
You swallow, willing your lower lip not to wobble. “I don’t want to part ways.”
He’s still trying for a smile, but it’s falling flat with the way his blue eyes are beginning to waver with tears. “It’s better this way.”
You shake your head, your own eyes brimming over to match his. He doesn’t mean it—well. He means it, but in the way that he believes that he’s too dangerous to associate with. That you’ll die if you stay by his side, and he can’t allow himself the happiness of company because it only leads to ruin. How do you fight back against such ingrained beliefs?
“It’s not better,” you say. “I… don’t want to go back to the way my life was before I met you. Do you really want to go back to the way it was before you met me?”
You’re friends—you feel more for him than you’ve ever felt, and the way he looks at you sometimes… you know there’s something there. You know it.
He gestures at your bandaged arm, and his voice is ragged as he says, “how can you want this? There’s no future for you with—if you keep traveling with me.”
He was about to say there’s no future for you with him.
“So you’re gonna make that decision for me?” you ask. “You’re gonna decide that you’re not worth the risk?”
You’re flying too close to the sun, heart on your sleeve as tears trace down your cheeks.
He looks away. “Don’t say that.”
“Don’t say what? That I don’t mind the risk of—of traveling with you? Vash, every single one of us is risking our lives every day just by living. I’d rather live with… with someone I care about.”
His eyes shut tight in a pained grimace. “I’m not worth your life. I’m… you’ve seen what follows me!”
“You think I can leave you when I know you’re in danger? You think I don’t care as much about your safety as you care about mine?”
“It’s not the same—“ he insists, and you’re trying to tamp down the agitation that’s bubbling up in your chest; not necessarily at him, but at the circumstances that have driven him to become like this, driven him to such a lonely existence. You’re not going to let him keep doing it.
You take a breath.
“You don’t have to be alone anymore.”
It’s dangerously close to a confession, an admission of the feelings you’ve tried so hard to keep inside, but you’ll admit to anything right now—anything to make him stay.
You can hear his shuddering breath, can see the tears begin to fall. He doesn’t want to be alone.
“And I don’t want to be alone, either.”
Your heart tightens painfully in your chest as a soft sob is wrenched from his chest.
“Please,” he says, voice breaking. “I can’t be the reason that—that—“
You’re closing the distance between you as his shoulders shake, wrapping your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek to his coat.
A thought comes unbidden: a story you were once told; a story from long before the Fall, from ancient times on Earth. A story of a woman who, to save her life from her husband, the king, told him a story each night, gave him a reason to keep her alive the next day. Just one more day, and one more day after that. Days turn to weeks turn to months and years.
“Just don’t leave tonight,” you beg him. “You can go tomorrow if you still want to. Just stay tonight.”
And Vash returns your embrace with a sob, arms coming to rest at your back, not daring to hold too tight as his resolve crumbles.
“Okay,” he says. “Okay.”
You’ll find a way to convince him that this is worth it; that he doesn’t have to be alone ever again. You’ll find a way to combat that deep set martyrdom and guilt that informs his every decision. Even if you have to keep buying time like this for weeks, months, years.
#HAHA OUCH#I hurt my own feelings :)#I’ll never not make him cry in my fics sorry y’all#sef writes#sef drabbles#vash the stampede x reader#trigun#tristamp
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I need more angst in COD. Like that gut wrenching “Oh my god, why?” Type of angst. Makes you take a step back and go “Goddamn”
Maybe something happened on a mission. Maybe the mission was supposed to be easy and that caused the 141 to ease up a bit, made them less stiff and clear-cut. Or maybe they knew it was gonna be bad and they had to brace for an inevitable. Or they were forced into making hard choice between living and dying and there could only be one that made it out.
(Disclaimer; I’m not a writer but I do daydream a lot so this has been running in my head and I just need to write it.)
Ghost can’t even think, can’t even breath as Soap is desperately pressing his hands on Prices chest. Gaz was yelling in anger a second ago and now. Now Ghost can’t even hear Gaz. Price jumped in front of Soap faster than Soap could even blink. Shoving Soap to the ground and even though it took 2 seconds for Soaps back to hit the ground it felt like an eternity.
Soap rushed forward to Price as soon as he got back up nd Ghost? Ghost can’t even breath, can’t even think. He locked up so fast, never has place been so loud and yet quiet. His eyes wide as Soap is speaking. Is he even speaking? Ghost can’t hear, all he thinks about is the day he came home saw his family dead. His mind merging and blending as he panics because he’s seen Price get hurt but never like this. Never to the point where it might be the end.
Soaps yelling, yelling at Ghost, yelling at Gaz. Gaz is no where to be seen. Murder in his eyes and a gun in his hand. Gaz, who’s always calm, always collected just snapped. Seeing Price on the ground bleeding out, a pained groan in his voice. Even Price’s well groomed beard was coated in blood. Gaz even with all that murder in his eyes even as he kills with so much precision he remains deathly calm. Only his breathing is erratic.
Soap didn’t think he’d be the only sound thinking one. Never believed he’d have to be the one to pull everyone together. His heart is pounding, his hands are shaking, there’s so much blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. And it’s just not stoping as he does what he can to stop Price from dying. Yelling into the comms for an emergency evac to get Price out. Yelling for Gaz to get his ass back here because he’s never seen Gaz like this and it scares him. Scares Soap so goddamn much.
“Gaz! Gaz! Get your goddamn ass back here!” Soap yells into the comms, desperate to bring his friend, his brother back. Price winces and Soap’s momentarily distracted. “Fuck!” Soap knows, knows that Gaz is like this because he cares so deeply about Price. Price who took Gaz under his wing, Price who spends so much time with Gaz because Price sees so much potential in Gaz. Soap fucking knows and that’s why he’s scared that Gaz is going to get himself killed.
“Ghost! Ghost! I need your fucking hel-“ Soap freezes mid-sentence. Seeing Ghost look like he’s about to witness someone he loves die again, he can practically hear Ghost’s erratic breathing. And that’s when Soap sees it. Gaz isn’t the only one thinking he’s about to lose a father.
#call of duty#simon ghost riley#john price#johnny mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#angst#not a writer#but i’m trying
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