#i think one reason why writing's become more difficult for me now is

[distort-opia]

I assume you have read half way across, I definitely did and I always kept wondering would this scenario be possible? Would that play along similar way if ever happened in canon?

Definitely read Half Way Across. It's an iconic Batjokes story, incredibly well-written and in-character. And yes, I'd say that at least to me, it's pretty much exactly how I'd imagine this scenario unfolding in canon. A bit of spoilers for HWA incoming, for anyone who hasn't read the fic.

I think I talked about it somewhere else before, about how time and context are a huge factor to me when it comes to Batjokes-- and how The Killing Joke is a massive turning point in their dynamic. At that point in time, Joker hadn't killed Jason. He hadn't killed Sarah Essen-Gordon, he hadn't become so monstrous as to appear entirely irredeemable. Not to mention, Bruce hadn't accrued such an extensive Family by that time, which Joker hurt in different ways and which would make any current rehabilitation attempt led by Bruce personally so difficult. It follows that Bruce offering to help and Joker accepting that help would not have been such an impossibility then as it is today, in more ways than one. Besides, Joker would undoubtedly demand Bruce's involvement in his rehabilitation, if Bruce himself wouldn't take over with barely any prompting; after all, his offer to Joker in TKJ is not just "I could help you", it's also "we could work together". It shows that Bruce has thought about it extensively, has imagined a future with a Joker who's by his side.

But well... then there's the issue of the power imbalance. To be honest, it's been a while since I read HWA, but the reason why I never felt the need to write a story like that myself is because HWA tackled the major issue with any Batjokes rehabilitation story so well-- which is, put simply, Bruce getting to have too much control over Joker. Bruce's need for control is almost all-encompassing, and the reason why Joker is his nemesis is Joker's utter defiance of it. Bruce cannot fully understand Joker, hence he cannot predict or control Joker, and that's... unique. To differing degrees, Bruce controls everyone around him; he has back-up plans for his back-up plans in case someone goes rogue, in case he needs to take down close friends and allies. He knows exactly what emotional buttons to push to get the people around him to do what he thinks is best. But Joker isn't like that, and it's crucial to them being equals that Joker stays like that. However, if Joker is in Bruce's power as Bruce tries to "fix him" the way he thinks is best... the power balance becomes massively skewed. And Bruce's need for control would rear its ugly head in so many ways, while for Joker this would mean constant doubt and resentment about having to be who Bruce wants him to be-- otherwise, Bruce would turn off the flashlight half way across. HWA feels like an accurate way the story could go in canon because it deals with this, precisely. With the trust issues that would arise for both Bruce and Joker, with Bruce's need for control and ideas of normality. No matter how a rehabilitation scenario played out for Batjokes, if Bruce is personally involved in it, I do think this will always happen similarly.

Now, HWA isn't finished, and I don't know what Dracze has in store for it so I won't speculate, but I'm very much looking forward to how this tension between them would break. (And I want to make the point that it doesn't matter that it's a WIP, or if/when it gets updated-- this is an amazing story and we're lucky it's being shared with us.)

[noxtivagus]

AAAA I WNA WRITE AGAIN

[smallfrenchstudyblr]

"The biggest issue is students using it, me spotting it and having no recourse whatsoever to do anything about it." can you elaborate a bit further

Hello !

So to explain a bit more: we [aka your lecturers, teachers, teaching assistants, etc...] know that some students will use ChatGPT.

And there is a discussion to be had about how to work with this, how to design assessment which allow students to leverage something which may simply become a fixture of writing in a workplace environment, but that is not the discussion we are having here. Because that is not what we are worried about.

The defensible, problematic situation is: a student straight up entering the essay prompt on ChatGPT, and using the grand skills of Ctrl+C / Ctrl+V, submits it as their own paper.

And our main worry, I think, was for a long time that we would not be able to catch it. That students would, actually, be able to fool us and that we would actually think this was a student who understood the course, who put in the work, and who deserve to be rewarded for their grade. That was the main fear.

But here is the thing.

And listen up, students :

Essays written by ChatGPT :

Suck

Are spotted from a mile away from the person reading it

For real. They suck.

I cannot stress enough how easy they are to spot. You are NOT fooling anyone. I do not need the platform's AI-detecting tool to know when an essay was written by Chat GPT. It is so, very painfully obvious when that's the case.

But the problem then becomes : ok, I have spotted a student who cheated.

What am I even supposed to do with it.

It is one thing to KNOW that an essay was AI-generated, it is another to defend it to a plagiarism committee. First of all, does it actually count as plagiarism ? Second, how do prove, with certainty, that the student did not write it ? How to I convince the plagiarism committee that this is worth looking into ? I am in the role of a police officer, who needs to convince the DA that this is a winnable case, that prosecuting will not be a waste of their time. But I don't have a Similarity Percentage to rely on. I don't have an original source to say "look, this is the exact same wording!" like in a classic plagiarism case.

Best case scenario, I can make my case for thee student to actually be called to the plagiarism committee, where we probe into how, exactly, they wrote their essay, until they fold. Unlikely, morally questionable, and in all likelihood, ineffective on students already so confident in their bullshit that they have the audacity to submit a fully AI-generated work for their finals.

Now, students, gather up, especially if you have considered using Chat GPT this way. Because right now, you might think it means you can get away with it.

But let me tell you something. First, that essay is getting the shittiest grade we can give you. Because you know what is more difficult than a lecturer proving that a student used AI to generate their essay ? A student proving that they deserve a better grade. Once we give you a grade, burden of evidence is on you to prove that you have not been graded properly. And we can come up with 15 reasons why an essay is a shit essay. We put on kids' gloves, when we lecture and give feedback. We give the simplified version of most theories, we give the basics of how to structure an essay, the bar we set is spectacularly low, because students come in good faith, they are learning, they will not be held at the same standard as academics. But if you try to argue that you need a higher grade, when you had the audacity to not write a single word of your work, the kids gloves are going to come off real quick, and your lecturer will be able to very convincingly explain why, actually, giving you a passing grade was a mercy in the first place.

Second. Academics, especially angry academics, are a gossip machine.

You may get a passing grade, and there may be no official note of it in your file whatsoever. But I can guarantee you that your lecturer will chat with their colleagues. That every single one of your essay that year, and the years to come, will be looked at with so much scrutiny I hope your referencing for every single work reaches perfection. Every single paragraph will be looked at with the knowledge that you are likely to have had it AI-generated. Lecturers will tell their TA to look at for That One Student when they grade you .You will not be getting any flexibility from us, no extension without full documentation to support it, no letter of recommendation from any member of the faculty, no word in your favor if you are bordering a grade bracket. If we are feeling especially petty, we might even forget to answer your emails or answer any question you have with such warmth and kindness you really still never feel like asking a question again in our class. And I know that, because that's already happening. I have the name of three undergrads that we know, for a fact, did not write their own essay. Two are not even in my modules at all.

Now. That's pretty mean. But if you have the absolute audacity and lack of ethics required to submit an essay for which you have not written a single word, and thought it would actually work, when your lecturer spent probably more that 80 hours working in this module this term, gave you the opportunity to meet for office hours, to ask any question in person or in email, to have extensions, accommodations, additional time ? When you decided that putting exactly zero second of your time, considered that you were above that - and above other students- and yet we were not able to officially sanction you for it, we had to give you a passing grade, the same passing grade as students who actually made an effort?

Yeah, sorry, you are not getting any sympathy from your lecturers anymore.

[impishjesters]

Jax x Reader w/depression/suicidal tendencies

warning(s): mentions of depression/suicidal behavior/tendencies, nothing graphic though, mentions of morbid/dark humor note: it's only mentioned that he has feelings for you, whether romantic or platonic is left up to the reader. A/N: I think this is the fastest I've ever wanted to write for something utterly new to me, usually it takes a while of being into a series or liking a character to wanna write something. This was...less than twelve hours? This was probably the most self-indulgent thing I've written in a while.

Nobody was safe from Jax’s pranks, including you—regardless of how much he found himself gradually enjoying your company.

It’s actually a right of passage at this point that every new person (as rare as it is) who shows up is subjected to some awful prank to gauge just how much of an easy or difficult target they’ll be.

You handle the pranks with ease. Sure it can be annoying, but there’s little that can seemingly “kill” you here.

Which is a shame really—well, only slightly.

Your therapist would’ve probably found it a good thing, trying to off yourself in a digital world where sleeping and eating were no longer required likely meant the inability to die.

Not in a traditional sense anyway.

You’re the only one ballsy enough to prank Jax back, which isn’t easy but when a prank is successful? Oh, it’s worth it to see his reaction.

There’s an unspoken prank war back and forth, but typically the other’s are the subject of your guys’ pranks. Somehow it feels more rewarding with the joint effort.

It's not often, but sometimes Jax's pranks will go a step too far and trigger something unpleasant. He's not really sure why you just walk off like that, those pranks don't make him feel as satisfied for whatever reason.

Once a special type of friendship grows between the two of you, the pranks lessen—not entirely though—nah he loves the unsuspecting reactions of a prank you didn’t see coming.

The pranks become less hostile and more casual—he’s got a reputation to keep after all, regardless of how he feels about you.

The initial reaction to someone being told there was no way out was to panic, you however, didn’t..well not outright. Your initial reaction is dark humor—even with the whole censorship thing.

Ragatha is the only one initially disturbed/worried over your dark sense of humor, which should be expected from one of them since they’ve been there longer.

Jax is aware of your morbid sense of humor and often plays along with it, especially in the beginning—later in the friendship though? Yeah, there’s no noticeable physical change, but he’s only a tad worried.

When not tormenting the other’s Jax stuck with you, or vice versa.

After the attempted drowning and standing (willingly) in harm’s way of one (or three) of the rides, Jax keeps your bedroom key closer in hand than the others.

And honestly? Ragatha doesn’t even blame him. You aren’t distant from them, but you do tend to favour Jax’s company. Regardless of her feelings about him as a person, it becomes obvious that he feels something less hostile towards you compared to them.

It takes a while before you finally confess to Jax that prior to being trapped in this digital hell, you were medicated for depression/suicidal tendencies. And while the digital world took away things like needing sleep and food, it didn’t get rid of the thoughts or urges.

Now—had this been someone else telling him all this? He’d be very uncaring and probably make a nasty “joke”, but because it’s you? He’s treading into foreign territory here when it comes to emotions.

There’s not really anything he can say that would make you feel better, but he does show a more rare tender side, offering to be there whenever you need him. Just to backpedal like a tsundere and say that he won’t always be free ( a lie, the fuck else does he have to do?), but he’ll try and make time for you during those moments.

He doesn’t do some pinky promise bullshit, I mean he can and would, but he doesn’t expect his offer and attempts to do that much (words of promise aren’t on the same level as a prescription drug after all).

But if being around his rude ass self and doing the occasional nice *gag* gestures of like, hugging or whatever helps you, he’ll do it—just, not with others around obviously. Again, man has a reputation.

From then on Jax is more aware of where you are around him at all times, not in a suffocating way though. Well, not intentionally, he has his moments. But he’s trying, again this is new territory for him.

Jax makes it his unspoken, personal goal to make sure you don’t tread the line of becoming abstracted.

Bonus (fluff)

Jax will make an attempt not to immediately recoil from your touch when others are present.

I’m not talking “Whoops, sorry to bump into you”, I’m talking about grabbing onto his arm or being in his personal bubble because you need something grounding or whatever.

More often than none his immediate reaction is to just use you to lean on, elbow or arm resting on top of your head to give you some contact and pressure. (He does it out of habit even when you don't need it.)

Sure he probably looks like an ass to others, but after a while, they sort of just get used to it since you never bring up being offended by the act.

But in private? Yeah, sure shoot, just don’t expect him to put any effort into returning anything. Maybe the drape of an arm or his legs, but if it’s really bad? He’ll lay or sit there while you cling to him like a koala.

Jax actually finds it kinda funny how tightly you hold on whenever he gets up.

“Wow, you really holdin’ on there.”

[wren-kitchens]

so shiver, but shiver with a friend

1034 words

the boat is creaking. that's not even remotely abnormal; the boat spends more time creaking than it does staying silent—gem built it so it would do that. sure, it took a lil' getting used to, but it didn’t take long for the rhythmic rocking and gentle creaking to become conducive to sleep, and now gem finds it far more difficult to sleep in silence. after all, silence means something is wrong—the engine rumbles if it's working, the waves splash against the sides of the boat if it's still afloat. a creaky boat means gem is still alive, and the boat is still running. but this isn’t your average ambient creaking. like she said, gem knows the noises of her little fishing boat like the back of her hand, and this is not a normal creak. this is a suspicious creak. and- sure, that might sound silly, but have you memorised every sound this boat can make? didn’t think so. 

this fic exists for two reasons, which are stiff stiffyck's love for qpr elven duo (gem and scar) and also me overthinking scar's wheelchair worldbuilding in the hermitcraft world

this could be a lot better but alas I have been consumed by depression writers block, so honestly i'm just proud this ended up as a finished fic

btw this is one of my first times writing wheelchairs, and whilst it is fantasy so things are gonna be a little different, I would appreciate if someone could tell me if I did something wrong/insensitively!

the boat is creaking.

that's not even remotely abnormal; the boat spends more time creaking than it does staying silent—gem built it so it would do that. sure, it took a lil' getting used to, but it didn’t take long for the rhythmic rocking and gentle creaking to become conducive to sleep, and now gem finds it far more difficult to sleep in silence. after all, silence means something is wrong—the engine rumbles if it's working, the waves splash against the sides of the boat if it's still afloat. a creaky boat means gem is still alive, and the boat is still running.

but this isn’t your average ambient creaking. like she said, gem knows the noises of her little fishing boat like the back of her hand, and this is not a normal creak. this is a suspicious creak. and- sure, that might sound silly, but have you memorised every sound this boat can make? didn’t think so.

anyway, all of this to say that gem is pretty sure someone is on her boat at the middle of the night for what she deeply hopes are not nefarious reasons. although, she cannot think of any reason someone would be sneaking onto her boat at two in the morning—nefarious or otherwise. maybe it's grian trying to lag some things out of her chests? but why on earth he wouldn't do that in the day when she wasn't on board, gem has no clue.

there's a new noise now, one that suggests against the idea of nefarious deeds, but only confuses gem more: a kind of squeaking, like a rubber ring being taken off, or an air mattress being slept on. okay, that doesn’t rule anything out at all, and only serves to make everything far more complicated. who is bringing a rubber something onto her boat at 2am? what is happening here?

overtaken by an amounting curiosity to whatever the hell is actually going on, gem climbs out of bed and pads softly along the floorboards in her slippers to her door. she regrets not installing one of those peepholes, because now she actually has to engage with the something that's happening outside in order to investigate. gem is sure there isn’t anything especially dangerous that could be going on, but she pulls out her sword preemptively as she opens the door slowly to find-

to find..

well, she's not sure what she's found.

"gem!" says a cheery scar, who is. on her boat? how is he on her boat- he uses a wheelchair, and the boat is in the middle of the river.

except- no, hang on, his wheelchair seems to be completely lacking wheels, which gem would argue is the main point of a wheelchair. where the wheels should otherwise be, there are floatation devices—seemingly rubber, which explains the noises gem was hearing earlier—in patented hotguy colours, so she assumes that's intentional. okay, that's- that sure is something.

"you-" gem scrambles for any words to express how bizarre this situation is and fails miserably. "you’re on my boat." is all she manages. void, it is way too late (early?) to be trying to figure this out.

"I am on your boat!" scar says, looking rather proud of himself. it's kind of sweet, to be fair—even as it only adds to the crazy situation. "y’know, I didn't think i’d actually manage it. last time I tried, I sunk."

gem blinks, giving up on making sense of the situation now and letting herself just go with the bizarre. "yeah, I can imagine why scar." she gestures at the rubber wheels (they look a bit like wheels, anyway). "how did you get those?"

"cub helped me!" scar smiles, as if this was a normal conversation to be having. does he even realise how strange this situation is, or is this just normal for him now? "see- you know how my chair has an elytra mode?"

"uh huh."

"well, now it has a swimming mode!" scar says, and he clicks a button on the underside of the seat. within an instant, the floatation devices deflate, replaced swiftly by the regular wheels. "ta da!"

"that- I mean, that's very cool." gem says, and she means it, despite how unenthusiastic she knows she must sound. in her defence, it is the middle of the night. "I just- why are you here?"

something changes in scar's expression immediately, and gem panics a little until scar says meekly, "it- okay, well. now it sounds silly."

gem snorts. "because showing off your inflatable wheelchair at two in the morning is normal?" she tilts her head, and her voice is fond when she says, "you know you can tell me anything, right?"

a smile tugs at the corners of scar's lips, and gem feels something warm in her chest to see it. "I know, I know." he hesitates for a second, before giving a huff of exasperation. "I wanted a hug." scar admits, glancing at the floor.

"wh- scar." gem finds herself beginning to smile. "do you really think I would ever turn down a hug from you?"

scars grin is almost shy as he opens his arms, and gem practically falls into them, burying her face in his jacket. man, she has missed hugs from scar; she loves the way they fit together so well, like pieces of a puzzle, perfectly matched to one another. there are very few places where gem feels entirely at home—she's been pretty much everywhere, so she knows what home feels like—and scar is closer to home than any place has ever felt to her.

before she knows it, scar has scooted forward just enough to unbalance her, and she lands on top of him. gem scoffs playfully as scar laughs to himself, holding her closer.

"I can't hug you properly if you’re stood up, y’know." scar mumbles into her hair.

gem rolls her eyes, fond as anything. "well, i’m not complaining." she's quiet for a moment, letting herself appreciate the moment—breathing it all in. "I love you." gem murmurs.

scar squeezes her, and gem can almost hear his smile when he says, "I love you too."

[drchucktingle]

Is there a reason you didn't include an acknowledgements section in Camp Damascus?

yes actually, as man name of chuck i have spent a lot of time FINDING MY IDENTITY through masking and unmasking. in early days there were many more layers hiding me away and it took a while for me to understand WHY. over the last ten years buckaroos have very much seen me find myself through art, accepting and talking about my sexuality, neurodivergence, and gender.

there is ALWAYS a layer to protect my privacy, and to allow myself room for POETRY. example i like to give is that if i post 'i pet a dog today' i might have actually pet a cat, but everything i say is true is some sense. in the early days that truth was stretched farther because even i did not quite understand it my dang self, and it has been my journey to strip away as much of this mask as possible (sometimes called removing my skin) and BECOME MYSELF on this timeline (which is something i have always talked about)

if you have been following chuck for the last decade you will see my older posts were much more abstract and difficult to parse, they reference themes that i have since come to terms with, and this journey to find myself is WHY i have been able to do this. some could say it was the journey of a reverse twin adapting to their new timeline, others could say it was the journey of a neurodivergent artist allowing themselves the freedom to find a healthy expression and conquer their chronic pain from constant neurotypical masking.

FOR INSTANCE this is why i am wearing buckaroo suits on tour now, an outfit that is more true to the INNER ME. i used to answer interview questions with metaphor and now i just answer, only hiding certain details when i need to. i talk less about figures in my life back in billings who were REAL IDEAS and PARTS OF MYSELF but sometimes not flesh and blood or ghostly buckaroos. this is my trot, and this is why i am so strongly against gatekeepers in the buckaroo community. i have been becoming myself long before i knew what that meant.

so when it came time for acknowledgments i realized i would have to acknowledge buckaroos who helped along the way but also ABSTRACT IDEAS who helped along the way, symbols and themes that i have since decided i wanted to leave behind. it was important to me to create a new era of my expression where those abstract layers are respected but also stripped away. i have to respect the inner truth i am trying to cultivate, for way of my mental health and also my physical health.

so i DID write out acknowledgments and sent them to my buckaroos privately, then i said please do not include this in the public book. these days i want to hide behind as few layers as possible, that is my artistic journey now. buckaroos were very respectful and supportive.

very quick before we finish, there was one other small and important reason. i am so sincere ALL the dang time it is kind of my natural state to get very emotional and thankful, that i kinda thought 'i am going to give myself space here to NOT stress out over this for once'. i am constantly thinking about acknowledging others and i LOVE this part of my trot, but doing it in a way that is so defined and specific and maybe even performative (gotta write your acknowledgments now bud. HAVE to do it) felt at odds with my inner way.

anyway thank you for this very good question what a dang treat to talk about this detail and how much it means to me to find truth in my inner trot.

[ane-doodles]

My COTL References

(you can use them as inspo if you want)

A little more:

Wow, I didn't think this would take so long, but I think it was worth it in the end.

I have had to look for all kinds of references to be able to draw the bishops in a satisfactory way (references from the game itself, from animals, body types, eyes, and even how to draw cat paws). I think I have done them justice.

Although I don't plan to draw a comic or write a fic, I did want to define my own reference when drawing them. That way my little doodles would have some coherence.

A couple of details from the designer (just me commenting):

• I had to look for references of many body types and choose the one I thought was most suitable for each character. It was a long road!! The most difficult to draw was Narinder.

• Heket's outfit is inspired by a dress I recently saw in a store, it looked like a tunic so I decided to use it as a model. I added the veil because I wanted to cover her head (it's difficult to draw), plus I think it gives her a distinctive touch and personality. She accidentally ended up looking like a very flirtatious nun.

• Kallamar's design was particularly difficult because in the game itself he doesn't have a torso! but for reasons of ease and patience here he is going to have one. It's funny that he's super tall, but he keeps hunching over trying to hear what others are saying (you know, he doesn't listen very well for obvious reasons).

• Leshy was my favorite design! He has all the characteristics that I usually give to a protagonist!! He ended up looking like a young boy who surely likes soccer. I drew him thinking that he would surely like to walk around, so he should be comfortable... but he will surely end up crashing on more than one occasion. The green looks so fluffy!!! ah! but I also gave him a sting (I thought it would be fun)

• Shamura was interesting. I didn't want to give it too many legs, but I also didn't want it to look strange. In the end I ended up taking inspiration from different insect characters I know (like the red guy from Adventure Time). His clothes are all torn, I think he would have a hard time adjusting to them and would end up destroying them very often.

• Although I have drawn Narinder before it is not easy without him looking like an anime boy with a cat head! so it took quite a while to try to get out of there, that's why his proportions look more animalistic now!! I like to think that his body was vaguely more human when he was a god, but that when he transforms into a mortal he becomes more animal-like. It was difficult to design his clothes, but I like the change of coat he has...I hope I don't change it again soon or I'll have to make him a wardrobe.

• I have no special notes about the lamb, except that I forgot to put the leg warmers!! I realized it too late, but let's imagine they are there. I liked designing the second fleece, obviously based on Narinder's.

• As you can see, each of the coats are made from the remains of the tunics that the bishops previously wore. I want to imagine that after they were defeated, the lamb recovered them and turned them into new garments so that they would feel more comfortable in the cult (but also so that they would be distinguished from the common people).

• I have planned jobs and positions that each one would occupy in the cult, but I don't know how close they are to canon since I haven't taken the time to research. We'll see!!

And that's it, if you made it this far, have a candy 🍬 , thanks for reading my ramblings.

[lucky-bucky-boy]

Restless Night

Pairing: MCU!Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: An impulsive phone call leads to a happy ending

Word Count: 1307

Warnings: Slight angst, smut, pet names, little to no (y/n), mentions of missions, lemme know if i missed anything  

A/N: MCU!Peter - I do plan to write something for TASM!Peter in the future but this was just easier for my brain to set up the scene. I wanted to do something different and challenged myself to write something that was more dialogue-heavy than I’ve written in a while. Not my best work, but a little smutty smut bc why not

I do not own these characters. Do NOT repost my writing and/or fics anywhere without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed and highly appreciated!

The soft sound of the television playing a forgotten movie almost drowned out the sound of the phone ringing, tucked under a pillow and muffled. The sweet cusp of sleep was only moments away, being dragged out by the vibrating as the first call ended and a second came through. 

The near unconsciousness caused forethought to be left behind, grabbing the phone, answering the call, and putting it to your ear. A soft "hello?" was all you could muster. 

"Hey, baby."

A tsunami of emotions flooded through your body, suddenly wide awake and hyper aware of everything that was going on; The television was nearing the end of the movie you had put on, your clock reading 1:32, the lights from the cars passing by casting various dancing shadows around your room.  

"I've missed you, baby." 

His voice was sweet, almost addictive and something you hadn't realized was a need buried deep inside you. You shuffled, forcing yourself up and sitting against the squishmallow he'd won for you on your first time, something you hadn't been able to get rid of. 

"Hi, Peter," you voice was quiet, sleep still etched between the syllables. There was a beat of silence between the two of you, "Peter, why'd you call? It's been 10 months."

Peter let out a soft sigh, you could hear him shuffling around. "Missing you really bad tonight, love. M' on a mission," there was another sigh, "I almost got hurt, like really hurt. Thankfully Bucky was there. All I could think about was you."

"Peter!" You voice was now much louder, instantly filled with worry, "Don't go and get yourself ki-"

He cut you off, "I wasn't tryna get hurt, baby. We got ambushed. We had just went in there for me to copy some information onto a drive. Ended up being some rogue Hydra agents, a leg of them we didn't even know existed." Peter was rambling and he knew it, he was starting to think the reason he called was a bad one. 

You sighed, body riddled with a million different emotions, "Pete, why'd you call me?"

"I miss you," his words had a slight whine to them, "I wanna touch you so badly, wanna hold you and kiss you."

If he was there you would have undoubtedly melted into him. The breakup was mutual, but difficult nonetheless. Between trying to focus on your career and all of the responsibilities Peter had, it was near impossible to maintain a relationship - there was no time for date nights or dinner, no time to sit and reminisce and talk about the future. For months, the only time spent together was sleeping in the same bed, which was almost always disrupted by some responsibility. 

You two loved each other, loved each other more than yourselves most days. But it had become too taxing and tiring, the constant worrying, near lack of support because attention was needed elsewhere. So, after a long, tearful date night gone wrong, the two of you agreed to break up, maybe try again when there were less things counting on you both. 

Peter regretted it immediately, but he had wanted to give you space, give you time to flourish and not worry about him. He'd asked M.J. and Ned all the time what you had been up to, he would check your Instagram and Snapchat to see the things you were posting and proud of. He did whatever he could to support you from afar. 

But tonight, tonight he dared to be selfish, he needed to be selfish. Deep down he knew it was wrong, calling you up in the middle of the night because the adrenaline was still pumping through his veins and all he wanted was to be with you. 

"I miss you too, Pete." Your voice was soft again, it always was in moments like this. Where the intimacy lay just behind every fiber in your body. 

He hummed, starting to get antsy as he continued to try to figure out how to say what he wanted. "Baby, can you do me a favor?"

"What is it, Pete?" You almost hated how quickly you answered, how eager you were. 

"Touch yourself, sweetheart. I wanna hear you touch yourself."

The gasp that left you was audible. Peter was never incredibly bold, never the type to initiate unless you two were definitely alone. Even in those moments, it was always sweet and loving. But this, Peter calling in the middle of the night, a desperate whine to his words and an insane neediness that make his tone demanding. 

“Baby, if you don’t want to, you can just hang up. I won’t be upset with you.” You could hear some ruffling and the sound of metal hitting the floor. “I just miss the pretty sounds you make, miss the way your face scrunches up, miss the feeling of your skin against mine.”

This wasn’t a command you were going to disobey. He was still rambling, your mind only half paying attention to the honey-like words he was saying. “Do you want me to use my hand or one of my toys?”

He paused for a moment and you could practically hear the smile spread across his lips. “Use your hand, sweetheart. Run you hands across your body like I would.”

You could hear the moment Peter wrapped his hand around himself, a small groan leaving his lips. You listened to him, it being nearly impossible not to. "Wish you were here, Petey," the words slipped out of you as your fingers danced across your skin, sending goosebumps in their wake. 

Your eyes were pinched shut, listening to every whimper and sigh the came through your phone, doing your best to pretend your own touch was his. "Me too, God, me too. Miss kissing your skin, hearing your little gasps when I nip."

"Peter," you couldn't help but whimper, forgoing anymore teasing and quickly giving your clit the much needed attention. It never took long with Peter for you to become needy and impatient, let alone when it had been almost a year since you heard the noises he was making, "I'm not gonna last long, want you so badly," your words were gasped out between soft moans, instant pleasure radiating from your core already making your body warm.

"Me neither, baby," there was a low groan that slipped from him, strangled as he attempted to hold himself together. With every sound you made, he nearly felt like he was in a dream. But he knew this was real, his subconscious hyper aware of the thin walls in the shitty hotel he was holed up in for the night and the super soldier who undoubtedly could hear him. 

A endless stream of "fuck"s, gasps, moans, and whimpers flooded through each phone. It only took a few more minutes before the coil burst and the warmth of your high shook through your body, thighs quaking and chest heaving. Peter followed suit, a breathy moan of your name as he spilled into his hand and all over his abdomen. 

There was a lingering silence as the  other of you recovered, both taking in what has just happened while relishing in the aftermath. Peter broke the silence first, "Need to get m'self cleaned up," he mumbled. There was another beat of silence from him, "I do really miss you."

You hummed your agreement, shifting yourself into a more comfortable position. "I do really wish you were here." 

He huffed out a small laugh, a sound that was laced with relief and contentedness. "I'll be home tomorrow at 4. I still got my key, I'll bring dinner, and we can talk. How does that sound?"

Now it was your turn to laugh, excitement filling every nerve in your body. "It sounds like a date."

[kyokutsu-sama]

Headcanons

"How they apologize after an argument"

A/n: I remember of writing some headcanons with the same topic for the Bleach captains but now I'm going to write the same topic for Black Clover captains. I'm so in love with them❤️

_____________________________

Yami:

Yami can be all brute and intimidating but he also recognizes when he messes up and regrets it, especially when he knows he hurt you in some way.

Sometimes he is stubborn and this becomes an obstacle for both of you when you're trying to solve something, he wants to be the master of reason just because he's the captain and thinks he can do things alone. This makes you believe that he's being arrogant, putting you aside like that.

(But the fact is that he actually just tried to protect you so that you wouldn't do anything that would put you in danger)

"Baby, please don't overreact, I'm just--" "Don't talk to me until you change your attitude" You replied, walking past him without even looking at his face

He starts to realize that you're taking the silent treatment too seriously and starts doing all kinds of things to get your attention, which don't lead to anything.

He thinks you're thinking about breaking up with him and this makes him drink twice as much, which leads him to arrive at the hq more drunk than usual.

You start to realize this and you start to worry too, even if you don't admit it.

On one of those nights he arrives at the hq very drunk and sees you in the living room and hugs you from behind, staying like that for a moment while you feel his heavy sighs against the crook of your neck.

"I'm sorry if I was hard on you, I just want to protect you. Please don't give me the silent treatment, it breaks my little heart" He whispered against your ear and you sighed before turning to face him "I accept your apology, you dramatic" You slapped his chest and smiled

This man was much more relieved after you forgave him. It was as if his little heart regenerated.

Fuegoleon:

I'm sure if you two argued Mereoleona would take action and beat him up because she's on your side🤭

Sometimes Fuegoleon is too serious and too strict, more than he should be and that stresses you out.

"I'm not going to have this conversation with you again, do as you wish" You left his office, angry "Y/n, wait, I just--" He got up from the chair but you slammed the door

He doesn't want to lose you nor does he want to see you upset with him but he also doesn't want to put pressure on you.

"Mereoleona is gonna kill me if she finds out about this" His first thought

He then calms down and choose to give you space, however, he always wants to know how you are and that's why he orders the servants to deliver flowers to you and also order that the meals be taken to your room.

You recognized that all that princess treatment was Fuegoleon's work to apologize.

However, one day he went to the room where you had been sleeping these days and sat on the mattress next to you and try sorted things out.

"Honey, I'm sorry if I spoke that way. It's been so much that sometimes I don't even know how to separate my personal self from my professional self and with that I ended up hurting you"He confessed with his head down but you hugged him "It's okay, love, we all make mistakes. I accept your apology and thank you for the flowers, by the way" You thanked him and he smiled hugging you

The captain of the Crimson Lions felt much better and promised you and himself that he would change.

William :

Seriously, I don't see how there could be an argument with this man because he's so cute and so gentle.Aghhh...I want a man like him now😫

But if by chance you and him disagree about something and it gets serious, It will be very difficult for him to deal with the situation.

"William, I'm sorry but this matter is going too far" You left the room "Y/n, come here, please listen..." William went to the door but you closed it and he sighed, feeling helpless

He refuses to see you walk past him and not talk to him, he refuses to see you doing your life and not being able to be by your side. It's as if you two became strangers and that touches his heart.

Even if you didn't want to clarify things yet, he uses his magic to create beautiful bouquets of flowers and leave them on your bedroom door, just like the captain above. You can't hold back your smile at the cute action every morning when you come across the flowers right at your feet

One day, you were at the bedroom window watching the group of the magic knights of the golden dawn enter through the front door and William also accompanied them. It had been a while since you two spoke, but you just wanted him to walk through the bedroom door so you two could talk.

And to your surprise, he did.

"Y/n, I came here to resolve things between us, I can't be without you. Please forgive me if I said something I shouldn't have said" He confessed with his melancholy eyes fixed on yours "Oh William, I forgive you. Come here" You hugged him giving in to his bright eyes and how cute he looked

You couldn't stay upset with him and neither could he with you. Everything was fine now and William was grateful to have you back just like you.

Nozel :

The way he spends his life idolizing the name of the Silvas and royalty is sometimes tiring for you. One day you have a conversation that goes a little sideways because he's being too proud again.

"You know what? Stay there with your pride and your fucking royalty. I lost my appetite" You threw your napkin on the table and hurriedly left the dining room "Y/n, come back to the table, we're not done" Nozel got up but you ignored him

Nozel knows he went too far, he wasn't supposed to be like this and sometimes he found himself being too proud which led to some arguments.

However, he knew he couldn't act like that towards you because he loved you too much and didn't want to keep you away from him. In response to this, he told all the servants to watch over you and to give you expensive gifts that he bought.

You couldn't help but smile at his actions. The fact that he sent someone to look after you and gave you valuable things made you think it was cute of him.

Yes, he was overprotective, even if he didn't admit it to anyone but himself. However, you could see that through his actions and there was nothing he could do to hide it from you.

You were sitting in the living room by the fireplace and he came into the room looking at you and you at him. There was a certain tension in the air at that moment.

"We need to talk, I... I think it's time we sort this out" He confessed but you didn't say anything until he got to the part that you wanted to hear. "I want to apologize, I know I let my pride speak too loud and that hurt you"He said and you smiled, seeing that he got to exactly the part you wanted "My dear Noble, I accept your apology but control your pride. Doesn't suit royalty" You used his usual words and he raised an eyebrow at you

Nozel promised to do so, so that situations like those wouldn't happen again.

[stealingyourbones]

Hey Bones, I saw your thing about a Bat family member becoming a ghost and it reminded me of a very heart breaking au a friend and I came up with a while back that I don't remember if I submitted or not. Either way, be prepared to have your heart broken.

Tim is dead. He's been dead for a while actually. But No one seems to have noticed. He looks and feels just as solid as he did before he died, even if he's got a lower body temperature and doesn't seem to get hurt on patrol beyond bumps and bruises. Never anything that would land him in med Bay, never anything that would make his family check on him.

No one has noticed the way he doesn't eat anymore, or the fact he doesn't sleep. He's extended his patrol hours and cut back on time at Wayne Enterprises. He's pretty sure not even Alfred noticed. He knows the Kryptonians aren't worried about him not having a heart beat and they have no reason to tell anyone. They know he has a special device that can hide him from their senses and tests it on Kon a lot to make him focus on spacial awareness beyond his hearing. He used it a lot before he died. They just think he hasn't turned it off in a while.

Tim remembers how he died. Not fully, but there are pieces. He remembers he was fighting someone on a bridge and he didn't call for back up because he thought he could handle it. He doesn't remember who he thought he could handle. He remembers something stinging his arm. A bug? No a bug couldn't bite through Kevlar, it was a needle. Then everything started going dark and he was stumbling back. His back hit something hard and he tiped over it. He thought he could land on the other side. He remembers wondering why his suit felt so damp and heavy as the world went black around him.

Tim's body is still at the bottom of the bay where it will likely stay forever with so, so many other bodies. It makes Tim wonder, why him? Why not everyone else who ended up down there? Why not everyone who has died in Gothem? Did he come back like Jason did, is it something to do with being a vigilante? Tim checks his own pulse again while he's alone. Yep. Still dead. He continues on his patrol and tries to shove those thoughts away.

So what if Tim's dead? He's still here and he still has work to do. His family is full of detectives. If they can't figure out that something as important as death has happened to one of their own? Well then Tim thinks they need to pay more attention. He ignores the pain that curls in the back of his mind at that thought.

It's been 6 months. Why hasn't anyone noticed? Tim can't help but wonder if they ever will.

Howdy its me @bonebrokebuddy answering. I'm Twone's (twin bones) twin who is helping answer asks because this fucker has like, over 100 of them in her ask box and I help her with making prompt ideas frequently so she trusts me to not horribly fuck up her account.

This is my first answer for her I've written because I had my screen on low brightness and on darkmode, so your profile jump scared the shit out of me when I scrolled past it. Therefore im answering this one first.

Anywho, from my chronic inability to write angst here goes: Tim died, came back and none of the Bats seemed to care. So what? It's not like his best friends hadn't done the same thing. And he was tired and sick of the Bats thinking his entire life revolved around them.

So he packed up his bags and headed to Kansas.

The Bats might not be worried but neither was Kon or Bart. They're actually thrilled after getting over their initial grief that Tim now has also personally experienced death and came back. The funeral was a rather small, breif, and quiet afar. Kon made sure to help locate Tim's corpse and Bart helped with the eulogy (surprisingly heartfelt and moved them all to tears.)

Sure, they're sad that Tim died but he's right in front of them, it's a little more difficult to morn when you've been laughing at said dead guy who got stuck halfway through phasing out of the wall. And now Tim can keep track with them!

Kon is a little pissed that Tim can now go intangible and escape his TTK so he can't take away Tim's coffee anymore. But it's kinda worth it. The first time he took Rob on his favorite flight path, he's never wanted anything else than to hear Tim's breathless laugh and see his frighteningly perfect smile again. They now often go on flights together, high above the clouds with no-one else but them for thousands of miles around. (it almost felt like a date)

Bart knew this would happen one day. He was from the future, of course he knew that Tim Drake, formerly Red Robin, died at age 19 and changed his alias to The Grey Ghost. It doesn't mean that Bart doesn't morn the passing of his friend. Tim means a lot to him and the brief guilt that he did not stop Tim's death also quickly passes. He can finally show Tim that hiding space in the walls that no one else can get to without phasing through the wall! One other thing. Bart is unsure if Kon has noticed yet, which he knows Kon isn't the most observant of the old young justice crew but he has to have noticed it by now. Ever since Tim left Gotham he's developed an insane appetite despite claiming that he didn't need to eat while in Gotham and also being dead so why does he need to eat? (Unknown to Bart, Kansas doesn't have as much ambient ectoplasm as Gotham and Tim is starting to experience the withdraw symptoms. If the trio don't realize how to fix Tim's worsening symptoms soon, Tim might actually die for good this time.)

[shiny-jr]

So what was the process like for creating the MC's personality in damantion au? Like how similar they are to their counterparts

how close they are to the version of the characters in the film they are based on.

I assume you're asking this for each MC thus far? Since I won't reveal too much on the last two MC's yet. So, this'll probably be a long post, or not, as there isn't a lot about the MC's that hasn't already been said.

King!MC. The very first MC I developed for the damnation series. In fact, I thought of this MC before I even knew damnation would become a pretty long series. They were the first, they came before the majority of the plot and all. At that point, all I knew was I want an MC that acts like the king, and screws things up. And thus, King!MC was born. I mainly drew inspiration from the animated version of the King of Hearts, however, the fate the MC knew awaited them was inspired by what had happened to the King of Hearts in the live-action version. I would say that of the MCs thus far, they are the most like their counterpart. Although the King of Hearts is not a major character in the animated film and only appears for brief moments, those few seconds give the little guy a lot of personality, which I drew from and then some. Really, I just wanted someone kinda pathetic with Riddle.

Chief!MC. Before I even began writing for them, my main goal for them was to be the epitome of girlboss, boyboss(?), theyboss(?). Basically I wanted them to be badass, a mature figure but still with a bit of a temper or snark at certain times. Someone that could stand toe-to-toe with Leona when he's being cunning. Like the previous MC, here I had the privilege of having two sources, the animated one and the live-action version. In the animated version, Shenzi is more humorous at times but in the live-action, she's much more serious, so I used both. I thought I'd used their point of view to portray a different perspective of the Lion King story, and use Chief!MC's traits and desire to survive push the plot forward but eventually make mistakes due to being a bit rash at times.

Diviner!MC. Ah yes, the first difficult MC. For them, I had to think a while. I was stuck thinking, just where exactly I could assign their role since there was essentially no role for them. For a short time, I entertained the thought of a possible apprentice under Azul, but in the end I opted against the idea as that would make it difficult for MC to reason why they would want to leave and it would make things more complicated with the whole legs and fins, air and water, thing which was hard enough to write for. Diviner!MC is loosely inspired by Vanessa, the identity taken up by Ursula. I say loosely, because yes, while they did take over seducing the love interest, they also changed things. There were a lot of changes I had to make in order for this new role to work, such as the protagonist also being seduced. Really, it just made a whole mess and it was not fun. Ultimately, not an MC I'm proud of, but they're there. I figured someone suave and confident was needed for the role, not only to be distinct from the meek King!MC and assertive Chief!MC, but also to be on par with Azul.

Anyways, that's a lot so I'll leave that there for now. Let me know if you wanted to hear about Vassal!MC and Retainer!MC, and I'll answer that in a separate post.

[navvyu]

HEYYY, Can I request headcanons for Leona, Rook, Vil, (Platonic) Malleus and Lillia of a southern reader who tries their best not to let their accent show for whatever reason. It's going well till someone/something pisses them off and it comes out, pointing it out or mocking flusters them and makes it worse - 🐇 anon

AN: thank you for requesting 🐇 anon! SO sorry for this coming out so late!! (writing blocks a b...) Hope it came out satisfactory! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

Reader with a southern accent

*not beta read

Includes: Leona, Rook, Vil, (platonic) Malleus, Lilia (implied relationship)

Leona

the first time leona heard your accent, he paused for a second, smirked, thought of ways to tease you later

then he de-escalates the situation and calmed you down

First, he tests your patience. He consistently annoys you just to try and hear your accent again (and also because seeing you angry is just funny to him)

Though he thinks that your accent is kinda funny (not in a mean way), he makes sure to not go overboard on teasing you

To prideful to admit he wants to hear your accent more often, so he 'subtlety' hits that he wants you to loosen up around him

(He kicks you and says, "Do the thing, herbivore.")

But he also playfully fights with your biut trivial stuff to try and trick you out

If you do speak in your accent around leona, he'd silently be proud that you trust him

May lightly take you about your accent every now and again but he means well

If your inseure of your accent leona will become the incarnate of angry cat emoji

He is very confused why you'd be inesure of something tart make you well... you

Makes it his life's mission to make you more confident sith your accent

If you are not comfortable using your accent in front of others he is totally okay with that, building confidence takes getting comfortable first

"Hey herbivore, do the accent. Why? Dont worry about it."

Rook

Enamored. That's how to describe Rook when he first heard your accent.

Though he did take a minute to help you cool down, he would not shut up about your accent

Disappointed if you won't let him listen to your accent, but he is incrediblely determined.

May or may not try and press your buttons to make you slip up. He do ANYTHING

...even if it means having to slightly bully it out of you

Well first rook tried flirting with you, but he felt bad because he didn't want you to get the wrong idea

So teasing you it is!

Though he feels slightly bad for teasing you, it's for the sake of beauty!

If you decide to use your accent around Rook, he'll be ecstatic!

If you're insecure about your accent he'd be confused

Thinks your accent is an interesting part of you

Slightly upset that you're insecure about it, but he'll make sure to help you become more confident about your accent because he thinks it's pretty

"Trickster! How long have you hidden this from me?"

Vil

If Vil hears you using your accent because you're angry, he'll basically drag you away from the person that's angering you, or he'll drag you away from whatever is making you mad

Half lectures you as he's dragging you away, complaining about how it's 'improper' to let your accent slip on something so trivial

Vil kind of ignores the fact that you have an accent for a decent amount of time

Though he may bring it up later

One time, when Epel was being difficult about his accent, Vil compared him to you saying: 'See how good they can cover up their accent? Why is it so difficult for you?' (+epel was surprised that you had an accent, he had no idea!)

After a while, Vil comes to acceptance with your accent, and he doesn't bother you about it, but he does apologize if he had said anything to offend you on the past

Encourages you to speak in your accent more, but he will slightly tease you about it

If you're insecure about your accent, he'd understand, but he'd feel slightly guilty because of his pickyness about accents before

Vil would bring you to a mirror, and he'd force you to speak on your accent, and he'd make you compliment yourself, commenting after 'See? Was that so hard?'

"Potato, fix your grammar, then you can speak your accent to me."

Malleus

Malleus was interested as to why you even hid your accent in the first place

He thinks that your accent is very pretty and he wants to hear it more but he's too nervous to ask you, so he tries to find what makes you slip up

After finding that flustering you makes you slip, he tends to flirt and complement you a lot more

If you regularly start speaking in your accent around Malleus, he'd have a big dopey grin

Actively encourages you to speak in your accent around him, he likes hearing it

If you're insecure about your accent, he'd be confused. Why be ashamed about something so beautiful and unique?

Will pout if you refuse to use your accent because 'it sounds weird.' He dosent care if it sounds weird it's you!

Malleus forces you to say you like your accent every day until you genuinely like your accent, don't underestimate his patience. He quite litterally will wait an eternity if he needs to.

Constantly complementing your accent, it odsent matter where or with who, he kust wants you to know that je lo es that special little part of you

"Child of man, I was unaware that you had an accent. Do you not trust me enough with this knowledge?"

Lilia

Lilia found out you had an accent by shamelessly flirting with you

Lilia often teases you randomly about your accent just because he thinks you make a funny face when he teases you about it

If you start insulting someone in the country, Lilia will cheer you on. Cheering, jumping up and down, the whole package.

If he finds out that you're insecure about your accent, he'd be confused.

He won't pry, but he'd want to know why you're insecure about it.

If you tell him, he'd either: assure you that he thinks your accent is beautiful or two, he'd get ready to throw hands

If you start speaking in your accent more, He won't outwardly say it, but he gives you big dopey grins as you speak.

"Kehehe~, your accent is so cute. You should use it more often!

[copperbadge]

Well, Still Salty.

I was cranky yesterday and I thought a good night's sleep would provide some adjustment in perspective, but unfortunately "spending yesterday not on tumblr" also offered perspective and got there first.

Up front: feel free to comment or reblog on this post (replies may be heavily delayed) but if you feel the urge to Like, I'm going to ask you to take one more step and go to https://www.tumblr.com/support, select "feedback" as the category, and enter a line or two about the new dash. It can be as simple as "Your new dash design is difficult to use and is driving people off the site". I'm not asking everyone to do it, but if you're going to Like this post, that would be a helpful action in addition. You can delete any response they send; no reason to expose yourself to the unique combination of incompetence and condescension with which they handle feedback generally.

Also up front: yeah, if I find somewhere else to go and go there, I will certainly let you guys know beforehand, I'm not going to just evaporate. I'll be broadcasting about Tumblr's replacement on Tumblr very heavily. But I can't deny that it is now an active goal of mine to find a viable replacement for this site. (More on this in a moment.) You will always be able to find me on AO3 as copperbadge, or via copperbadge@gmail.com. (More on this in a moment also.)

This kind of thing is why I refuse to fuck with staff now or ever; I don't trust them and I never will. Watching @wip respond to almost every complaint or suggestion with "but that would be really hard" is telling. Whoever is pushing blocks around at Tumblr wants a lucrative site that's easy to code, but lucrative is hostile to community and code is difficult by nature, and when the architecture of the meeting hall is hostile and cheap, people don't stick around.

I've been watching the site as every change made it incrementally worse, from a buggy post window that doesn't allow ease of editing to the new dash (which is the reason I'm writing this in a text window off Tumblr). I genuinely do not think I can use desktop Tumblr like this unless I can install something that will put it back the way it was, and roughly 40% of the content you guys get HAS to come through desktop. It's impossible to do on a phone or so time-consuming it's not worth it. I cannot code Radio Free Monday on a phone; it's a struggle to code it on a single-monitor laptop (I usually write it on my work computer, where I have two monitors). Even writing image IDs on the phone is difficult and something I rarely do. Tumblr is becoming an actively difficult place for me to make content, introducing friction left and right.

But where does one go? I've tried other platforms and they're either worse to use or they don't have the constituency. The problem with a lot of discourse around internet addiction is that it often points out how glued people are to their phones without asking what it is they're doing on those phones. I'm not addicted to social media; I don't doomscroll, I don't care what celebrities have to say, I don't find 140 characters useful or interesting, I don’t find most “funny” videos very interesting. I create a lot of original content for public consumption, significantly more than many social media users, and if that becomes difficult, then the site suffers more than I do. But it's undeniable that social media, and this social media in specific, is where my people are, and yeah, I like seeing you all every day. It makes it difficult to leave even when Tumblr is the best of a bad set of options.

It seems like a lot of the internet, lately, is the best of a bad set of options.

All that said, Tumblr forced a sudden, unwanted, and unchangeable reskin on me a day after I listened to a two-hour podcast about addiction while working on building a newsletter system for my author site. I spent the evening before this happened in contemplation of my relationship to social media and to my readership and how I might alter it to my benefit regardless of whether that's also to Tumblr's detriment. Their poor timing, I suppose. A lot of the theories advanced on the podcast were, to put it kindly, bunk, but one of the suggestions for people questioning their relationship to an activity was a dopamine fast -- removing something in your life that gives you quick but unsustained dopamine hits, so that you can take some time to level out and examine your behaviors. On the one hand, that's not at all how dopamine works; from the jump it's a bad theory. But on the other, pulling back from something you think may be causing you difficulty is generally speaking a good tactic.

Removing myself from Tumblr yesterday was an active process: because I have ADHD and often will forget something exists if I don't systematize my engagement with it, Tumblr is normally pinned to my browser, with the app on my phone's top screen. Removing the app and closing the window meant that while I occasionally reached for Tumblr, it was less frequently than I expected, and the lack of access reminded me why I wasn't there. I missed you guys, but I didn't miss getting distracted from work by my dash, or the pressure to respond to the volume of communication I receive through the site daily. I don't think my use of tumblr as my sole social media has been unhealthy, per se, but certainly yesterday felt both quieter and calmer after I walked away.

But that's a temporary relief, because you are my community, and not only do I not want to leave my community, it's a resource for me. One of the reasons I do things like Radio Free Monday and the weekly Hug on Saturdays is that I try to make sure that resource is reciprocal. Leadership involves service. Leaving would be easy in the short term, but in the long term, leaving my community without having another place to meet it, or another community to go to, would be harmful to both of us. I'm already someone who isolates, and while I have a strong brickspace circle of friends, they fulfill sometimes different needs.

Though I do appreciate the wild vote of confidence from the comments to my last post telling me people would come with me where I went. That means a lot to me. I will attempt to make it either unnecessary or as painless as possible. Just know, I see your faith and friendship and I appreciate it.

Sometimes at my old job I'd be in very tumultuous meetings where a lot was discussed and not much agreed on, and the most useful thing to me was always to say, "What are our next steps? What would you like me to do because of this meeting?" So what are next steps, all this being the case?

First, I'm going to be off Tumblr, mostly, for another couple of days, because clearly I need the break and a few days won't matter too much. Again, I will be back either to continue on the site or to let you guys know, at length and volume, where I'm headed. The former is much more likely.

Second, I'm going to be actively looking for both a widget I can install to reset the dash (recommendations welcome, I currently don't even use xkit) and a wholly new platform that's a realistically viable alternative. Even if the dash gets reset, the shitty post editor is here for good. Attempts to source alternative platforms in the past have taught me that it needs to have a mobile-friendly site or an app, a similar structure to tumblr, and a reasonable chance of actually attracting users. That's a heavy venn diagram unlikely to be fulfilled anytime soon, but I'm now invested in finding it, instead of just passively waiting for it to happen to me (as Tumblr did when it pulled me off LJ).

Third, I do have an email newsletter in the works! I'm just wrestling currently with setting up how people sign up for it. This wasn't meant to be "my main broadcast platform"; it's meant to be a once-monthly email to share book news, targeted at people who aren't on socials or who just really love content from me, I guess. :D The plan was for me to assure Tumblr users that it was not extra content, just select content repackaged into a digest. But it will be one way to ensure that if I'm moving around outside of Tumblr, you'll know about it. I hope to have a link to a signup page soon. (I'm....dealing with some code issues.)

Fourth, I'm going to be combing through the last ten years I've spent here and pulling anything I think is of value into an archive. For now everything will remain here as well, and I'll let you guys know if I think that's going to change, but it's clear that this space is moving only one direction, towards a place I can't exist, and when/if it crumbles I want to have already evacuated what's important.

So there you go. I'll possibly be posting sporadically (the Saturday Hugs are queued six months in advance so that'll happen) but if nothing else and if not sooner, I'll be back full-time next week starting with Radio Free Monday. I appreciate your patience and your kindness in the meantime!

[nalyra-dreaming]

Let me use this opportunity of getting weird Loumand anons once more to say something that's been on my mind:

All the bad faith, passive aggressive anon asks (especially those wanting to make the "ships" about the fandom "shipping them" (or not) because of "color" and "racism") I see around piss me off sooooo much.

Lets look at the "ships" we have so far:

Loustat: difficult, at times toxic, later not so much, endgame

Loumand: difficult, at first infatuated, then dead, later healing

Lesmand: difficult, at times insane, obsessive in parts

Devil's Minion: difficult, intense, at times insane, obsessive in parts, endgame

What have all these "ships" in common?

They are canon relationships. And they are difficult.

Two of those are endgame.

Let's dive in (a bit).

Loustat:

At this point not much has to be said about why Loustat are toxic in parts, but that changes - their character journeys are inverted, and they are endgame. Two sides of the same coin. They are "petty and in love" as Jacob called it, and they are "it" for each other, for better or for worse.

Loumand:

Born from Lesmand actually, because Lestat goes to Armand to make him care for Louis (and for Armand's blood), which... works. But the initial infatuation phase, while honest on Louis' side, is based on Armand's fascination with him because of Lestat. He gaslights Louis into loving him. I bet they will be very much shown to be in love, and then the shit will hit the fan and then... Louis will be destroyed, for a long, long time. Qualifies as toxic for me, too, btw. The Loumand in later years, in Trinity Gate (or Dubai?) is a more healing one, one where Louis comes to terms with who he is and what he wants in safe, stable, loving surroundings. And I bet they are freaks in the sheets :P

Lesmand:

Obsessive, and while loving definitely more so from Armand's side than Lestat's. He "imprints" on Lestat when he sees him because Lestat reminds him of Marius, and a lot of Armand's actions are informed by his need for Lestat, and the fact that Lestat upends his world. That said, the fascination itself is mutual, and I bet the show will have them engage in a proper affair.

Devil's Minion:

Wohooo, Daniel, a gift from Louis for Armand!!! Armand shifts full on obsessive and love on Daniel, Daniel, who will become his only fledgling. (And who goes mad for a while, too!) The show has obviously expanded the journey, but I don't think it will change too much - Daniel is the only one Armand could not let die. Talk about love beyond reason or endurance.

ALL OF THESE SHIPS ARE RELATIONSHIPS IN THE VC.

YOU CANNOT PUT A VALIDATION BASED ON SKIN COLOR ON THEM BECAUSE THEY ARE ALL VALID.

And they are canon.

Saying the fandom doesn't "ship" Loumand because of them being POC is just ludicrous.

If you think Louis in Dubai in season 1 is "happy" I don't know what to tell you. We haven't really seen "happy" Loumand yet, and, depending on how they spin it(!) we might not even see it in season 2, though I think they will make it seem as if it is happy and "pure" at first.

But they might throw in the horror of Claudia knowing (and she does, canonically, she tries to warn Louis!) and being ignored by Louis (failing her again) in - in fact, I take the little info of the scenes we have of Sam and Armand filming as precisely that, namely that they make it clear that there is a relationship there as well... and how that relationship enables Loumand.

And then Armand will kill Claudia. And Madeleine.

And Louis will stay with him.

Personally I found later Loumand always very healing, as said. (But, personally(!!!!!!), also a bit boring. I love them, but... writing them (i.e.) does not hold much appeal right now.

But that might change with the upcoming seasons!) But the Loumand in Paris?? Hell, that's not even real, Armand gaslights Louis into loving him, uses his spell gift and mind gift as influence, poor Louis. And it will hurt Louis, incredibly so.

Making it seem as if people, especially people with a background in the books, do not "ship" them because of the actors' skin color... is just...

There's many, many reasons to ship them.

There's many, many reasons not to.

I OBVIOUSLY cannot speak for everyone. But these simplified takes are becoming so tiresome, when there are so many other reasons that need to be considered.

And honestly, as said before, I fully expect parts of this fandom to turn on Armand when he is being himself, when his relationship to Lestat is becoming clear, when his meddling and role in Claudia's death are clear and... can you imagine the outcry when they actually kill off the black (likely) lesbian character and her lover. -.-

If they actually chop of Claudia's head on stage.

Mayhem.

Which brings me to the next part:

My predictions for season 2:

Louis hurting, seeing Lestat everywhere (outcry)

Loumand in love, oh so sweet, look at them

Claudia gets a girlfriend!! (Sweet!)

What is Lestat doing there? (outcry)

What, Armand is interested in Louis because of Lestat?? (outcry)

What, Louis is yearning for Lestat?? (outcry)

What, Armand is doing what to Claudia (and Madeleine)? "ThEy KiLl tHe gAys!!" ((outcry)

Armand throws Lestat off a tower (Meh, he deserved it, should have been much worse)

What, Louis stays with Armand?? (outcry)

Whatever will go on with Louis and Lestat (outcry)

At some point people will turn on Assad, I agree here with what has been said by others on this.

They could not separate Sam from Lestat, they will not do so for Assad, in fact THERE I can easily see it be much worse, because of the racial implications.

I can also see them turn on Jacob btw, because Louis stays with Armand. "How could he". -.-

So: Even if you are only a "show fan", if you have no idea of what the books might bring... the hiatus is still very long, and going and hating on people, accusing them of racism, because people who know the books go a bit bonkers when they see certain bts photos... is on you - not them.

These ships are all canon relationships.

And valid.

End of rant.

[virginsexgod69]

imagine shane somehow pulled it together and survived with the group until season 3, but lori still sadly dies giving birth to judith. while they’re out on a run, he and rick meet you. at first they’re just jacking you for your weapons, ammo, etc, since they’re gearing up to fight the governor but then shane realizes that he wants to take you home so you can take care of his baby and him too. rick’s along for the ride too

❝ Taking Care ❞

pairing Shane Walsh x f!Reader

cw guns, mild swearing, typical twd violence, injuries

2.5k words

note okay wow, writing shane was lowkey kinda difficult hahahaha, but i tried my best! although i'm not sure if i like this or not... either way, i really hope i fulfilled your request!!!!!

“If this is someone’s stuff, we should at least leave them some.” 

“We need this more than they do. ‘M sure they don’t have a baby or are tryna gear up for a damn war.” The two men continued to ransack your sad excuse of a camp. Guns, knives, canned foods, all gone, shoved into their own bags. You watched them as they continued to rummage through your stuff. You knew you should confront them, but you’ve seen how scary people have become and didn’t want to leave the safety of the tree you were hiding behind. 

“Think there’s anythin’ good in that car?” 

“Maybe we should jus’ take the whole car.” 

You couldn’t just sit by and let them take everything you risked your life to accumulate. Even though your heart was beating a thousand miles a minute and your entire body shook with nerves, you removed the safety off your pistol and stepped out from behind the tree, pointing your weapon at the curly-haired man. 

“S-stop stealin’ my stuff!” You ordered, although it sounded more like you were begging. 

The men stopped and turned to look at you. They stood with confidence and clearly weren’t afraid of you. That made you even more nervous. The man you had your gun aimed at slowly put his backpack full of your stuff down before raising his arms up in surrender. His partner, however, reached for his own gun. 

"Don't!" you shouted, turning your gun on him instead. 

"We don't mean any harm, we just saw stuff, so we took stuff," the blue eyed man said. There was something about the way he spoke. Fearless, authoritative. It sent nervous chills down your spine. 

"Yeah, so why don't you put down the gun, darlin'," his partner said. His unflinching stance and muscular body gave you the impression that he wasn't one to mess with. 

"Tell your friend to put down my stuff and maybe I'll consider it," you bargained. 

The man smirked, clearly not taking you seriously. It pissed you off. 

"Do ya even know how to use that thing?" Now you were really pissed. You moved your finger to the trigger to fire a warning shot, but the man was on top of you instantly, tackling you to the ground. He grabbed the wrist of your hand containing the gun and slammed it against the ground until you dropped it, ignoring the way you screamed and writhed against him, trying to fight him off. With your gun now in his hold, he shoved it into your temple. 

"Shane, wai—" 

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't end your fucking life right now," he demanded, cutting his partner off. 

You sent a nasty glare his way, but when he didn't relent, you knew he was serious about killing you. You didn't want to show the men any fear, but you couldn't help the way your heart raced or how your eyes burned with tears. 

"You said," you swallowed nervously, "You said you have a baby, right? I-I can help! I was a nanny before the world fell. I know how to take care of babies and kids." 

He pondered over your words for a moment before clicking the safety back on and yanking you up from the ground.

"I think we should take her back, Rick," the man whose name you learned was Shane said. 

The other man, Rick put his hands on his hips before running a hand over his face in thought. 

"We already have people back at the prison who take care of Judith. If we take her that's just another mouth to feed," Rick argued. 

Prison? Did they have some sort of camp? Having a stable home sounded better than living out of your car and sleeping in a tent. 

"Do any of your people know baby first aid and CPR?" you asked. Now you wanted to convince them to bring you back with them. Anything seemed better than what you currently had going on. 

Rick and Shane stepped off to the side for a moment, talking in hushed whispers you could barely make out. 

"How many walkers have you killed?" Rick asked as they two approached you again. 

"I dunno, a lot?" you replied, confused at the question. 

"How many people have you killed?" 

You sighed, getting tired of his silly interrogation. "Um, two." 

"Why?" 

This man was really nosey. "Cause they were bit." That's all the detail you were willing to give the man, but he seemed to accept it anyway. 

"Fine. We can bring her back," Rick finally agreed. Shane grabbed your upper arm and leaned down to your ear. "If I even think you're gonna try some funny shit, I will kill you." You nodded nervously before snatching your arm from his grasp. 

 You helped the men load the rest of your stuff into their car -this time you were okay with them taking your stuff since you'd be going back with them- and got into the backseat of their green car. 

When you arrived at the prison and saw that it was actually a prison, you were actually a bit shocked, but you didn't complain. Shelter was shelter and having it was better than not. You followed the men inside, curiously looking around as you did so. An elderly man and a young girl holding a baby sat at a table in the area before the cells. Their guards immediately went up when they saw you walk in behind Rick and Shane. 

"Who's this?" the man asked.

"This is...uh," Shane trailed off, not knowing your name, so you quickly told him. 

"We found her in the woods. Said she was a nanny, so we brought her back to help out with Judith," he explained as the girl handed him the baby. He smiled down at the baby girl in his arms before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. 

"Hello, nice to meet y'all," you greeted. They both seemed apprehensive, but returned your greeting nonetheless. 

"And nice to meet you!" you said in a quieter, higher pitched voice to the baby in Shane's arms. She couldn't have been more than a few months. It felt strange seeing a baby so young in the middle of the apocalypse. You assumed Shane was the father, considering how he was the one cradling the infant in his arms and not Rick. But who was the mother? You glanced up at the girl. She seemed way too young to be having a baby with Shane. 

Her blue eyes met yours. "Oh, um, I'm not her mother," she explained. You could tell by everybody's body language that you shouldn't ask who is, so you kept quiet. 

"Can I hold her?" you asked Shane. 

He looked at you for a moment, deciding if he wanted to trust you to hold her just yet. He gently placed Judith into your arms, his warm hands brushing yours in the process. 

"Hi, baby!" you cooed, overtaken by her cuteness "aren't you jus' the cutest lil' thing!" She just looked at you, not a thought behind her eyes. You couldn't help the way your face split into a gigantic smile. You glanced up at Shane, but he was already looking at you with a ghost of a smile on his face and eyes less cold than they were earlier. You handed him back the baby and he handed it back to the girl before motioning for you to follow him. 

 He led you through the prison, to a cell you'd be staying in. When the other members of his group saw you and demanded answers, with authority present in his tone, Shane told them you were here for his daughter and here to stay, leaving no room for questions. Even if they didn't seem to agree with his choice, they didn't say anything. You sat on your cot. It wasn't the most comfortable, but it was heaven compared to the dirt. 

"Thanks for bringing me here," you said looking down at your shoes. 

"Better uphold your end of the deal or else I'll turn you loose and leave you for dead." 

What a warm welcome.

 In the week or so that passed, everyone started to warm up to you, especially Shane. At first, you suspected he was hovering because he didn't fully trust you with Judith, but when he hung around you, even during the times you were without Judith, you started to suspect he liked being in your company. And his wasn’t that bad either. 

“Hey there,” you greeted as you approached him with baby Judith in your arms. He stood in the watchtower, having been in there keeping watch the night before. The bright, early morning sun shone on him, making his brown eyes glow. He smiled happily at his daughter before smiling at you too. 

“What’re y’all doin’ up so early?” He asked, taking Judith from you and cradling her in his arms. 

“The little one was hungry, had to get up and feed her.” 

“Have you eaten yet?” He asked you. You nodded your head. 

“Why don’t you go get yourself somethin’ to eat?” His voice was laced with genuine care, which shocked you. He hasn’t shown too much care for anyone in the short time you’ve been here. 

“What about you, you’ve been up here all nigh. Surely you’re hungry?” He handed you Judith and turned you around, gently nudging you toward the exit. 

“Mornin’, Beth,” you said cheerly as you helped yourself to a granola bar. You though about it for a second before grabbing one for Shane too. 

“Hey,” she replied. 

“Do you mind watching Judith for a bit? Gotta do somethin’ real quick?” She agreed and happily took the baby in her arms. 

You hurried back to the watch tower and thankfully, Shane was still in there. 

“What’re you doin’ back in here? Thought I told you to go eat?” 

“You’re not the boss of me,” you teased as you tossed him the granola bar. He smirked and caught the bar. You took a seat, leaning against the wall as you ate your breakfast. He looked at you as if to ask what you you were doing. 

“ ‘M keepin’ you company,” you stated matter of factly. He didn’t argue with you and instead sat down next to you. You wanted to remind him that he was to be keeping watch, but decided against it, afraid it might push him away. The two of you ate in silence for a bit, too hungry to avert attention from the food. 

“Judith seems to like you,” he commented. 

“Well, I’d hope so, since I’m her nanny,” you joked. He chucked before responding. “You take such good care of her.” 

You smiled at him. “Least I could do since y’all took me in… even though you tried to rob me and threaten my life.” Despite the truth to your words, there was a joking tone to your voice. He looked a bit guilty. 

“We were just,” he took a moment to gather his words, “I had to-”

“’S fine, I get it,” you said, slightly relieving him of his guilt. “I’ve had to do some things I didn’t wanna to survive.” 

“Haven’t we all.” You were grateful that he didn’t try to pry too much into your life, but you wouldn’t have minded sharing had he asked anyway. You rested your head on his shoulder -much like you did to your friends before the dead started rising- and he let you stay there. 

“I better get back to Judith,” you said after a few minutes. 

“And I gotta change shifts.” The two of you parted ways, but not before he thanked you for the granola bar. 

You found Beth again. She was in a cell with Maggie who was feeding Judith. She handed you the baby and her bottle so you could take over feeding her. The sisters said their goodbyes before leaving the cell, leaving you and Judith behind. She was almost done with the bottle before you heard the faint sound of gunshots. You tensed up, clutching Judith close to you.The gunshots picked up, making you wonder if you should go and see what’s going on. You looked down at the baby dozing off in your arms. You couldn’t just leave her in here alone. The prison was virtually empty with nobody else to watch her. You chose to stay, even though the guilt of doing nothing ate away at you. 

 After what felt like forever, the shooting finally stopped. You breathed a sigh of relief. Loud footsteps rapidly approached before Shane appeared in the doorway. He was sweaty, out of breath, and clutching his side. 

“Came to check on you two, everything alright?” He asked, worriedly. 

“Yeah, she’s fine, everything’s fine,” you replied, eager to ask what it was that happened. 

“Are you alright?” Concern flashed in his eyes. 

You nodded. “What happened out there? Is everyone okay?” 

“It was the Governor, killed one of the prisoners and tried to take out everyone else too.” 

You looked away from his eyes and down to the hand clutching his side. Blood was starting to leak between his fingers. Your heart dropped. 

“Shane, did you get shot?” You asked sternly, hoping he wouldn’t lie. 

“Just a graze, I’ll be fine.” You put a sleeping Judith in her crib before approaching the man. 

“Lemme patch you up.” 

“It’s just a graze,” he insisted. 

You sighed and looked up at him which forced him to look at you. “I know you just brought me here to take care of Judith, but I wanna take care of you too.” He let out a sigh and finally relented. You smiled up at him before scurrying off to fetch some medical supplies. 

When you came back, he was sitting on the cot, still clutching his wound with a pained look on his face. When he heard you come in, he sat up straighter and put that stoic look back on his face. 

“You don’t have to act all tough for me,” you teased. You doused a towel with some rubbing alcohol before kneeling in front of him. He couldn’t look you in the eyes as he lifted his shirt to give you access to the wound. It seemed to have stop bleeding, so you gently cleaned the wound before putting a bandage on it. 

“See, really wasn’t that big a deal,” he said with a teasing smirk on his face. 

“Still had me worried, though.” You stood up and tidied the mess of medical supplies. 

“Don’t gotta worry ‘bout me, I can handle it.” 

You knew he could, but the thought of losing him scared you. You leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to his cheek. 

“Just don’t want Judith losin’ her daddy is all.” He sighed and looked up to the ceiling in thought. 

“Thank you,” he said. 

“No problem.” 

“No, not just for this. For taking care of Judith and for taking care of me.” You sat beside him and slipped your hand through his. 

“Always.” 

not quite proofread, proofskimmed maybe. i found some free time, so i'm gonna try and finish writing as many requests as i can yaaay!!! anyway, thanks for reading !! <3

oh btw, i learned what a taglist is and now i have one! if you'd like to be in it, let me know!

Taglist

@fuckedbydaryl

[websterss]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝟐/𝟒 — 𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Cases become harder to focus on with you being gone. Lucy tries her luck with getting Anthony to join her when visiting you, but his guilt makes it difficult to see you. When he finally finds the courage, he doesn’t expect for you to be missing from your hospital bed.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): Very angtsy again, some fluff if you squint

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 6,849

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader    

𝐀/𝐍: Hope you enjoy it! This is about 5k words more than part one was lol also the jabs thrown at the nurses and doctor are not written in hatred of them. My own sister is a nurse and I’m aware of how hard they work and the strong mentalities they have for the things they see and interact with. So hopefully it’s not taken to the heart…I don’t know why I’m even explaining this, but I overthink about shit too much, you guys probably won’t even take it to heart cause it plays into Lockwood’s whole persona…imma shut up now! I hope you enjoy it, I had a blast writing this part. Also I’m aware that I didn’t write George’s interaction with the reader, I’m saving it for part 3 <;3 

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Weeks passed since DEPRAC had arrived and helped place you in the back of the ambulance. The doors closing in Lockwood’s face felt like a punch to the gut as it drove away. He watched and watched until the automobile grew into a speck in the distance. He wiped away a fallen tear in hopes to save himself the embarrassment. Though his begging and pleading and almost knocking Kipp out did nothing to hide his vulnerability. They now knew first hand just how special you were to him. The importance you played in his life, the mere reason his sanity remained intact. All that was left was a broken shell of a boy who suffered a great loss. It didn’t help that multiple hands came up and touched him on the shoulder, apologizing, giving their condolences. He rolled his eyes, scoffing at their antics. You weren’t dead, not really, so it made no sense for everyone he knew to act as if you were six feet under ground. You couldn’t be gone, not when he had so much to confess to you.

It was hard to focus on anything when you crossed his mind constantly. When he stumbled upon something belonging to you or a reminder of you such as flashes of your smile or your laugh, or seeing your forgotten mp3 player in the library. They’d fore-front his lobe. He truly lost it one day when he was sitting across your vacant chair, eyes mindlessly wandering onto the thinking cloth, and there it was. A doodle you had drawn. One of a music note, and familiar lyrics to a song that you constantly had on repeat throughout the house, written below. Your subconscious thoughts were jotted down too. Silly little questions they were, but they were yours. Your thoughts and what your mind occupied. All here. You grazed the cloth with your handwriting and Lockwood was afraid that this is what would be left of you. A tingle ran down his spine. His finger traced over your penmanship. Following the curves and loops of your letters. He read a few. A smile formed on his face because you were genuinely hilarious. You never failed to make him effortlessly laugh.

♫

I could build a castle Out of all the bricks they threw at me And every day is like a battle But every night with us is like a dream

Note to self: Remind Lockwood to restock the pantry.  

Do we still have donuts left? I’ve been craving a glazed one!!! :D

We’re out of donuts :,(

We’re out of tea bags. My throat is sore so I won’t get my tea before bed :(

I saw a death-glow of a dog today and it made me cry. The taxi driver must’ve thought I was mental or something :P

George is a moron >:(

“Lockwood?” Lucy followed his line of sight. He placed his hand over your handwriting. He was clearly absent minded. Mind clouded with no doubt thoughts of you. Lucy was surprised to see him grace the kitchen again. He hardly had the appetite for anything as of late. “Lockwood!”

Anthony was startled out of his thoughts. The chair scraped against the floor as he jumped back. He relaxed seeing it was only Lucy.

“Sorry Luce, didn’t see you there…” He sighed heavily. “Did you need something?”

“I only asked whether you wanted to join me today…” It finally dawned on him that Lucy was fully dressed. Her blue leather jacket draped over her crossed arms.

“Today?” He rested against the back of the chair. “Oh.”

“Thought it’d be nice to get some fresh air. You’ve hardly left the house since…” She trailed off. Eyes averting from his own.

“Since.” His jaw clenched. “N-Not today Lucy.” He ran a hand over his face.

“Lockwood-“

“I can’t.” His eyes shut. Head falling. He furiously shook his head no. “I can’t. It’s unfair. We’re here and she’s not.” He points harshly behind him. “I can’t just go and sit by her, knowing that she will never wake up. I can’t Lucy…what would I even say to her?” His voice cracked at the end.

“It’s not your fault you know.” Lucy’s head titled, feeling for her friend. “It was a bad case. A visitor, too hard to handle. If what you say is true. That the visitor knocked you out cold. Then what Y/n did was an act of sacrifice. She saved you, Lockwood.” A saddened smile painted her eyes. She reached forward to touch his shoulder. This time he didn’t flinch away like he’d done before.

“And it was unnecessary.” He gritted his teeth. “She didn’t need to get herself ghost locked. I could’ve done without it. I didn’t need saving, I needed her to be okay!” He slammed his hand down on the tabletop. Lucy’s shoulder moved with a startle, her hand retreating back down to her side. Regret clouding over Lockwood’s eyes instantly. “I need her. I need her here with us. I need to make sure that she’s getting enough rest and eating. I wish for her awakening. Not hospitalized and in a goddamn comatose!” He raised his voice again.

“You miss her.” Water brimmed her waterline. Lockwood scoffed. The smirk didn’t quite reach his eyes. Missing you didn’t begin to cover half of what he felt.

“I can’t breathe.” He admits taking a great intake of air. “I wake and expect to find her lounging about, somewhere in the house, but end up realizing she’s not here and her bed is still made. I can manage on my own without her but it’s not something I want to do. It’s not something I want to continue waking up to.” His bottom lip trembled. By now he was past giving a shit about who saw him break. “I don’t just miss her, Lucy. I can’t breathe without her.”

He loves you. Is what Lucy finally settled on. She nodded understandably. The one person who held her heart was ghost locked too. A state she’d remain forever in, as would you.

“Join me...” She held her arm out, a smile reflecting back at him. He pondered the idea. Stay at home or go along with Lucy to finally see you. Would he really spend another day within the walls of his own house? Only staying on standby if a client called them to inform them of a visitor needing to be taken care of. What had his life become? He thought about it, then to Lucy’s surprise he placed his hand in hers. “Wait really?” Lucy was stunned, half expecting him to deny her offer. 

“Like George said, Lockwood & Co doesn’t run from things. It’s about time I stop, no?” He gave a cheeky but solemn smirk. Lucy nodded and tugged him along through the kitchen door towards the entryway. 

“George, he said yes!” Lucy yelled to the second floor. They could hear a door open and shut, hurried footsteps descending. He came into view out of breath. Shock and relief featured across his face. 

“Oh thank god. I was growing rather tired of seeing him mope and sulk every day.” He placed a hand over his chest, grabbing his own coat and rapier. 

“I have not!” Lockwood grew offended.

“Yes you have!” Both of them said, nodding in agreement.

“Two against one, quite an unfair fight don’t you think so...” He scoffed then was the first one out the door. If you were here you’d do your very best to counter their bullying, provide an equilibrium. The two glanced at each other before following the brunette out the door.

-

The ride to the hospital had him feeling anxious, but once the three of them stepped foot into the elevator, all courage had gone out the door. He received a few stares from his constant foot tapping. Lucy held his hand to calm him down, but he was anything but calm. It had been weeks since the case. However, he was finally in the one place he tried to avoid. He didn’t quite know how Lucy was able to visit you. To have the strength to see you in such a position. He knew that Lucy was able to relate. After having asked about her past life. He was let in on the life she used to have with her best friend Norrie. They made plans to come to London and be the most famous agents together. Though those dreams had been ripped from them. Their plans were put on pause after Norrie remained in ghost lock. It was nerving, he was scared. Your milky white eyes never left his mind. They haunted him day and night. He’d stay up all night to avoid seeing them in his dreams, not like he ever had any though. He was finally here though. George and Lucy would be there by his side at all times. He braved on when the doors finally dinged. He heavily sighed and stepped out first, walking to the front desk to check in. Then they found themselves heading to your room. They didn’t think anything of it when your doctor and two nurses loitered outside your closed door. He honestly thought nothing bad of it. Yet, he was incredibly wrong.

“What are you not telling us?” Lockwood eyed the doctor. His eyes moved past his shoulder to the gray door that the doctor was blocking. They had just been told by your doctor that they weren’t allowing visitors at the moment. 

“Mr. Lockwood, if you could please sit down. I think it would be best to talk somewhere quieter- Mr. Lockwood!” The doctor called out to him as he had shoved past him. He pressed down on the lever of your door and pushed it open. He barged in and halted. Dread immediately filling him. He felt nauseous, his tie suddenly too tight and choking him. Lucy and George pushed past the nurses trying to hold them back. They too came to a stop when they entered your room. 

“What the fuck?” Lucy cursed as her eyes stared widely at your bed that you were not in. 

“I’m gonna be sick...” George got the chills.

Lockwood slowly turned to look at the eyes trying to avert their gazes. Anger and confusion coursed through him when he asked. “Would someone please explain to me what the hell is going on?” The doctor and nurses all looked at one another. Mouths opening and closing not knowing what to say because they too had no idea what the hell was happening. Your doctor took it upon himself to speak to Lockwood, which only seemed to further upset him when he opened his mouth.

-

“What do you mean you’ve lost her? How do you lose a girl in a comatose state?” Anthony asked rhetorically. “People in ghost lock don’t just miraculously get up and walk out the door!” Anthony flailed his arms and hands around. He was pissed. Furious when the three of them arrived at your room to find you missing. He ran a hand down his face. Too tired to deal with the staff, and too tired to let his emotions run rampant, but you were gone. You weren’t in your room, you weren’t laying in your bed, and all the nurses, and your doctor of all people, had no clue where you were. Were you moved? Did someone take you in spite of him? Was someone out for leverage and wanted to get revenge? God he hoped it was none the latter.

“I came yesterday, Lockwood. I promise you she was here.” Lucy assured. 

“Yeah, she was right here. Lucy even sang her favorite song. Brought her favorite jumper too and everything. Swear!” George was her alibi. Having joined her when Lockwood wouldn’t turn them down. Now when he had decided to say yes, you were missing. What were the odds of that? Lucy’s stomach felt queasy. She looked around the room, and began panicking. 

“Where is her jumper?” Lucy walked over to the chair next to your bed. 

“What do you mean?” Lockwood's hard demeanor faltered. 

“Her jumper. It was right here. I left it right here, yesterday! It’s gone!” Lucy turned back to face everyone, her face fell.

“Did you lose her jumper too?” Lockwood asked the three people behind him with spite. “The staff were under strict instructions to monitor her and watch over her…” He casted them a narrowed glare. He turned around. Facing the foot of your bed now. His hands opened and gestured to its emptiness. “Where the hell is she?” He exclaimed.

“Mr. Lockwood, I can assure you that we have been watching over your friend with great attentiveness.”

“Yes it shows.” He hummed.

“Now Mr. Lockwood-'' The doctor stepped forward, but was cut off.

“What if she’s awakened?” One of the timid nurse’s suggestions caused his hardened features to soften. His gaze falling onto hers. What would be the chances of it? The idea was absurd. No one, and he means no one has ever awakened from ghost lock. Yet a speck of hope ignited something within him. What once was lost hope for your recovery, now revived itself again. Maybe. Just maybe. He thought.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You and I both know that’s impossible.” He scoffs, a humorous smile painting his mouth. He didn’t want to be given false hope, not when it came to you.

“Ghost exist. Anything is quite possible really.” Well when she put it that way. “Who's to say she didn’t wake when we left the room and wandered off? It would be the only plausible explanation.”

He observed your room more thoroughly from where he stood. Lucy and George looked around again too.

He glanced over to your empty bed, the covers had been clearly ruffled and thrown towards the edge. He subconsciously reached down, letting the fabric of the sheets collide against his fingertips as he caressed them. His heart rate picked up again. Not wanting to consume the possibility but there were no signs, no evidence of a struggle, no attempts of a break in, or furniture splintered and thrown. The only reliable evidence was that you no longer frequented the now discarded bed, and all your wires and heart rate monitor had been taken off, not removed.

Please, please. He prayed. He looked over his shoulder at the nurses and doctor patiently waiting by the door. If the chances of your awakening were true, then you couldn’t have wandered very far. You were probably lost or confused. No one has ever encountered an experience such as this one. Such as your case. No one knew what would come of someone who suddenly woke up out of nowhere. Would you still be yourself? Would your eyes remain a milky white glaze? God, how he missed their e/c color. He took a deep breath to steady himself. 

“Here’s the plan...We each take a floor. George, take the first. Lucy, you take the second, and I’ll stay here to search. Move onto the next floor if you’re out of luck. Questions?” He remained stoic. Being the one to take charge in this current unsettling situation. He bore it all so everyone else in his life didn’t have to.

“Lockwood, do you really think she’s awakened?” Lucy's breath shook. Your jumper no longer thrown over the chair she would sit in, gone, gave her goosebumps. The idea scared her, but if it led to being true then she was willing to do whatever it took to find you. Find you first to give you the biggest hug ever. 

“I don’t know Lucy...” He trailed off. Then led the group out of your room.  “Alright. Whoever finds her first then...” He nodded to them, then began walking down the hall. Lucy and George were dumbfounded, not expecting him to walk off so quickly. “Use the stairs!” He called over his shoulder. 

“Where’s the stairs?” Lucy turned to ask one of the nurses. 

“Down the hall to your right.” She gestured past Lucy’s shoulder.

“Then there remained one.” George stood in the same position. Casting a light smile to the nurse who wanted nothing more than to work on her charts. “Alright...” He didn’t even bid them a goodbye, simply followed Lucy down the staircase. 

-

The trio each took to their assigned floors. George covered the first floor, asking and describing your characteristics. The height you were, and what you would be wearing, though none of the passer byers seemed to see anyone with your description. He was hardly the socializing type, so when most ignored him, his frustrations fused up.

Back up to the third floor. Once George and Lucy were out of sight Lockwood bolted. He ran down the halls, checking each room, asking even the patients themselves, if they had seen you. Asking different nurses than the ones who tended to you. He was on a mission. Desperate to find you. To relieve him of his living nightmare. Lucy asked him if he believed that you were truly awake. Yes, he did. He wished for it day and night, now here he was rushing around the third floor hoping you’d be there around every corner he turned into. The only real success he had was the old man in the room next to yours. Something about a girl asking where he got his jelly cup. That had been enough to make his heart skip. His eyes gleamed with hope. Desire and delight overflowed within him. He thanked him, and walked out his room. Spotting one of the previous nurses, he rushed up to her out of breath. There was only one place he could think of that you’d set your mind to, if you really were the girl who asked the man where he got the jelly cup.

“What floor is your refectory again?”

The nurse stumbled over her words. Mouth opening and closing at his odd question. Then not wanting to further test Anthony Lockwood’s patience, she told him. “First floor.”

He gratefully placed his hand on her shoulder, thanking her and hurriedly rushed past her. Refusing to take the elevator, he pushed the exit door and descended with haste.

-

Lucy searched thoroughly on the second floor. She ran down the hallways, asking, shouting whether anyone had seen a girl with the descriptions she gave like George had done. Wondering if you were wandering around helplessly. Though none recalled the description Lucy gave them. No memory of seeing someone like you. She waved them off, taking it into her own hands to find you. She honestly didn’t know how she wasn’t getting whiplash from how fast she turned her head left from right. Glancing into open rooms or towards patients wandering the halls. She made it to one end, turning a sharp right at the corner. Though the right turn only basked in a red bright sign saying exit. Her hands fell to her sides. When she turned around to head on left, her shoes squeaked against the gray vinyl tiled floor. Her feet moved before her mind could comprehend what she was seeing. Her heart picked up because there before her stood you. You in your beautiful glory. Fully conscious, your hospital gown still on, but now you dawned your blue green jumper that was missing from your beside chair. The one she brought to you during her last visit was staring right at her. She kept blinking, not believing you to be real. To be standing upright and walking like you didn’t just awaken from a comatose state. Like you didn’t just come out of being ghost-locked, something everyone perceived to be impossible. The unimaginable was right in front of her though. You were okay. It felt too good to be true, but the soft rasp of your voice asking the nurse stationed at the front desk of the second floor a question, was enough to convince Lucy otherwise.

“E-Excuse me...would you be able to direct me in the direction of the refectory?” Your hands held the edge of the rounded counter. You waited patiently for a reply, biting your lips timidly, but the nurse on the phone only dismissed you with a wave of her hand. Lucy saw the fall of your shoulders, her heart breaking, watching your hands falling back down to your sides. You only smiled at her, bidding her a thank you and turned to walk off. That was the fifth person who refused to help you. You weren’t asking for much. Just a slight guide to make sure you were going the right way. You looked up from your slippers. Startled from the fact you almost collided with someone. “Oh I’m sorry!” You apologized. This was also your fifth person you accidentally collided with. You grew anxious watching her eyes widen at you. Like she’d seen a ghost. “Miss, are you okay?”

“What? I’m sorry. Sorry it’s just...I can’t believe you’re awake.” She sniffled, blinking back the water that brimmed her waterline. A very affectionate laugh and smile rang through your ears. It provides you with some warmth. Her presence was very welcoming compared to the other encounters you’ve faced. She reached forward, letting out a laugh in disbelief. You were real. It didn’t take her long to wrap you up in her arms. You yelped out in surprise, not expecting her to do such a thing. Though you didn’t pull back. Oddly enough, it felt nice. The first form of kindness someone has shown to you today. “You’re okay. You’re awake and okay!” She laughed out loud. She pulled back holding you at arms length. “My god your eyes, look at them!” She beamed, her eyes teary up again. Your eyes no longer held a milky glaze to them. No gray dullness reflecting back to her. They were reverted back to their original color. One she never thought to see again, but she did. She cupped your face. Your eyes softened, taken back from her sweet act of affection towards you. “Wait till Lockwood sees you...and George! Oh they’ve missed you so much. I’ve missed you. Our room isn’t as fun without you!” She joked. Lucy felt her world start to piece back together, but it remained broken within a second. Her heart sank when the lack of realization in your eyes stared back at her.

“Lockwood?” Your brows furrowed. “George? Who are they?” Lucy let her hands fall from your arms.

“Come off it now. It’s not funny, Y/n.” Lucy’s eyes held fear and anger. “W-What’s my name?” She held out hope for you. That you weren’t playing a cruel prank on her. 

“I’m sorry...” Your heart felt for her. You shook your head. You timidly averted your gaze. The sleeves of your jumper swallowing your hands. Clearly this girl knew you, but you had no recollection of her. The hallway filled with silence, but not for long since you spoke again. “I-Is that my name? Y/n?” Lucy finally did cry. You poor thing. You had been wandering the halls helplessly. No memory of your friends or your own identity.

“You really don’t know?” Lucy’s shoulder’s fell. The shake of your head was all she needed to know. She reached forward to grab your hands. You let her as she was the only one to give you a sense of certainty. She knew your name, when you had failed to remember it. “Yes.” She reassured you. “Your name is Y/n Y/L/N. Y-Your favorite color is green. Your favorite song is New Romantic by Taylor Swift, which you love to sing very loudly at home. It drives the boys crazy, but they love it when you sing. Your favorite dish is a beef broth that George likes to make when it’s too cold to go outside. You love tea, you prefer it to coffee. Two spoons of honey for a sweet taste. You’re my best friend…and you don’t take shit from anyone.” You clung to every word she told you. You cried too because this complete stranger gave you an identity to hold onto.

“I sound cool.” You half-heartedly laugh. Lucy breaks out into a beaming smile. She nodded. 

“You’re very cool, and very funny too. You never fail to make others laugh.” 

“I am...” You breathe out. 

“Yes. You are.” You accept it. That you’re all these wonderful things she says you are, and that you love and do things the way she says you do. It’s a lot for you to grasp, but you're hopeful. Hopeful that all these wonderful things about yourself will come back to you. Though it hurts your heart when you fail to remember her name. Not knowing it.

“What’s your name?” You softly let out. Lucy accepts your question with a smile, not taking offense to it. She tightens her grip on your hands. Bringing them up to place a kiss upon them.

“Lucy. Lucy Carlyle.” You nodded. You repeat it over and over until you memorize it. Until it’s engraved into your brain. She looks past your shoulder, seeing the nurse you had spoken to before. Then glances back to you, looking at you looking down at your slippers. Curiosity gets the better of her, and if you were in need of help, she wanted to offer it. 

“You asked the nurse where the refectory was...” Your head snapped up. Your smile widened, nodding furiously.

“Yes. Do you know where it is? This nice old man in the room next to mine was eating some jelly in a cup. I asked where he got it, and he said they get them from the refectory. He told me it was on the first floor, but I seem to be turned around.” You laugh at yourself. You gesture to the hall you ventured down with open arms.

“Come on, I’ll take you.” Lucy held out her arm for you to interlink with hers. Your smile grows again as you thank her. She continues down the hall, taking things slower now that she has found you. You weren't all present at the moment, but she would make sure you were looked after. She pressed her thumb on the downward arrow beside the elevator doors. You watched as the button glowed bright, then the doors separated. You both entered, Lucy going for the first floor button but you beat her to it. She shook her head, her mouth tugged upward. “What color of jelly would you like?” She watched as your eyes widened. Your mouth agape. 

“There’s different colors!” You were amazed. “The nice old man had a red one.” You recall.

“Then we’ll get you a red one.” You nodded, rocking on your heels, watching the numbers change. The number one taking place overhead of the doors. The doors dinged and Lucy held her arm out again to loop yours around hers. She pats your hand as she asks for the way to the refectory. A tall fella pointed down past a few seating areas. Phone pressed to his ear as he waves you both goodbye. Lucy thanks him and you fall in sync with her steps, eager and excited to eat the jelly you went on a mission for. She laughs, watching you observe everything you pass. You reflect that of a child in a candy shop. 

-

Lockwood had to catch his breath when he bursted through the emergency exit door. A few passer byers startled and stared at him with confusion and judgment. He hunched over, hands falling to his knees as he tried to slow his heart rate down. When his lungs' air capacity was restored again, he stood tall. Recollecting himself, straightening the tie that flapped around when he hurried down the steps. 

“Lockwood!” George’s voice caused his head to snap in his direction. The curly haired boy ran towards him, slightly out of breath as well. 

“George!” He greeted him, swallowing the burn in his lungs. He needed a sip of water and fast. 

“Where have you been? I ran up to the third floor in search of you, but you were nowhere.”

“Where have I been?” He was flabbergasted. “I was on the third floor.” He places his hands at his hips. 

“Doesn’t matter you’re here now. Look Lucy fo-” Lockwood cuts him off. 

“Listen I have a lead-” He began, his heart settling down. “The old man in the room next to hers said that there was a girl who asked-”

“Lockwood listen to me-” George tries again.

“Him where he got his cup of jelly. My guess is that it was her that’s why I think that she’s headed for the refect-”

“Lockwood, Lucy found her!” George grabbed his shoulder and shook him. Lockwood was stunned into silence. His heart beat against his chest. His shoulders fell in George’s grasp. 

“W-What?” He gasped.

“A little late on the lead, but you’re correct, she was heading for the refectory. Lucy found her on the second floor asking a nurse for directions.” He informed him. He observed his friend in front of him. Wondering if he was going to collapse from the glint of hope in his eyes and disbelief written over his face.

“She found her...” He breathed out. Wanting to ensure that he was hearing George right. “As in-” Lockwood dipped his chin in hopes that George would expand on his choice of words.

“As in, she's awake.” George nodded, letting out a relieved sigh. He patted Lockwood’s shoulder, laughing a little, as a light laugh emitted past Lockwood’s own lips.

“She’s really-” He choked up. “Oh my god!” He went to move past George, but was tugged back when George grasped his wrist. “George?” He questioned the hand that prevented him from going down the hall. He noticed his hesitation. “What is it George?” He looked at him, then down the hall. Concern now dawned his features, eyes furrowed thinking the worst of the worst. “What’s happened to her?”

“N-Nothing’s happened...” He reassured the brunette.

“Then let go.” He lightly laughs. Lockwood was slowly losing his patience. “Why won’t you let me see her?” He frowned. George looked away. “George!” He pressed.

“If you’d just let me explain. You need to know a few things before you see her okay.”

“What’s there to know? I know all there is to know about her. Down to her favorite pair of socks she loves to wear.” He laughed, shaking his head at George’s antics. “George, let me go...” There was a smile on his face, but the edge in his tone gave off a warning. 

“Just don’t get upset with her okay?” George’s eyes softened. A faint smile on his face. He was scared and worried he would get mad at you? He’d do no such thing.

“Let me go.” At last, he was able to take back his arm. He held his wrist, gave George a once over, then hurried down the hall into a big array of seats. Multiple people, family, friends, crowded the space, but he only had one person set out to find. His eyes scanned each face, each seat for someone in a unicorn gown, and blue green jumper. Though instead of finding you, his eyes had fallen onto Lucy walking from the serving area with a tray in her hands. Her eyes scanned the area too, and when her eyes fell onto Lockwood already looking at her, she slowly met him halfway. He looked down at the tray, a sandwich, orange juice, and two cups of jelly filled the tray. A spoon and a few napkins too. He looked back up to meet her gaze.

“Please tell me you’ve gathered an appetite.” He held her gaze with hope. He knew. He just knew.

“Afraid not...” She sighed. She scanned him, wondering what he was feeling at this moment. She met George’s eyes past his shoulder. 

“W-Where-'' He pleaded silently. Eyes telling her to show him. Have her take him back to where you are sitting. She met George’s eyes again, a silent conversation happening before Lockwood. He felt uneasy, not understanding why they wouldn’t let him in. She motioned with the tilt of her head. A silent act to have him follow her. Lockwood wiped his palms down his slacks. Inhaling and exhaling as his eyes looked out for you. When Lucy had set your tray in front of you, it took him a second to fully register seeing you. You thanked her, your stomach growling as you looked down at your lunch. Your eyesight followed up from the cups of jelly sat on the top of your tray, then continued upwards to the dark hue before you, all the way up to the new face staring back at you. You shied back, mouth opening as you looked to Lucy for your lack of recognition. She nodded. So this was him? The one you had to be gentle with. You heard the guy choke back a sob as he slowly rounded your table, kneeling before you as he grew closer. You could only watch as his hand extended forward slowly, then gently cupping one side of your face. When he touched you, he let his hands caress over your skin, realizing that it was actually you. He let out a cry of relief. Tears brimming his eyes. He cupped the back of your head and pulled you into a hug. His face fell into the crook of your neck. Then lifted to place a kiss against your temple. He pulled back, face a few inches from yours. A beaming boyish grin, staring back at you. It gave you sudden butterflies. 

“I thought I lost you...” His eyes crinkled at the corners. His other hand reached up to fix a stray hair. He felt whole again. His smile hadn’t faltered. You were here. You were okay. You somehow came out of your ghost lock, something he was curious about, but was too preoccupied to worry about at the moment. “Y-You’re eyes!” His laughter boomed out loud. “You’re beautiful eyes. I thought I’d never see them again. They’re as gorgeous as I remember them. I’m so glad you’re okay.” He nodded, trying to remind himself that he wasn’t dreaming. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.” He worked up a smile. A teasing edge in his tone. “I don’t care if you hate me for eternity. You’re demoted to research with George until further notice, no questions asked.” He laughed. It hadn’t yet dawned on him, your lack of reactions. He closed his eyes again, pressing a kiss to your temple. The act of affection was nice, but it made you question so many things. He pulled back, one hand still cupping your right cheek. He looked back to Lucy and George sat across from you, an unreadable expression on their faces. “What were you so worried about George?” He teases. A smirk formed on his lips as he took the vacant seat next to yours. He scooted it up to sit closer. Then his eyes fell onto your tray. He instantly removes the circular lid of one of the plastic cups for you. He casted a charming smile your way. Then reached for your spoon, you accepted it gratefully, digging in to stuff your empty stomach. He went to open your juice as well. George and Lucy exchanged looks as they watched Lockwood now remove the wrapping of your sandwich. He lifted his hands not finding a knife. He looked up to the serving area, there wasn’t much of a line so he took that as his chance to go. “Let me get you a knife okay.” He turned to you, getting up to place yet another kiss on your temple. As soon as he was out of earshot, George caved.

“We have to tell him!”

“No!” Lucy laughed the idea away. It shouldn’t have even been a choice. “Are you crazy?” Her chin dipped, her eyes widened. “That’d be social suicide, did you not just see how happy he was? We cannot tell him! Don’t you dare tell Lockwood, George!” She warned him with a point of her finger.

“Tell me what?” Lucy jumped in her seat, Lockwood only smiled as he took his place beside you again. He watched as you took the last bite of your jelly. When your arm reached forward to grab your drink, he had already been placing it in front of you. The cap twisted off easily since he loosened it for you. You gulp down a few sips. You side eye Lockwood who was already watching you. You gasped when you finished. A small smile on your face, one he reciprocated quickly. He opened the lid of your other cup and gave it to you. You dipped your spoon instantly. This gave him time to cut up your sandwich in a triangular way. He places the plate in front of you. Taking your trash, to throw later. He softly chuckled, when you bit into it. “Good?” He chuckled again. You hummed. “Don’t worry you’ll be back home eating real food in no time. Which reminds me I need to go talk to the doctor about when you’ll be discharged. The sooner we leave the better. Things can get back to normal...” He looked back at you. “Well as normal as things can be.” He laughed. He looked at George and Lucy, worried gazes staring back at him. 

“Okay what is with you two? You’ve been awfully quiet, and that’s not normal for you George.” 

“Care to take this one Luce?” George gestured to him.

“What? Tell me what?” He recalls her dismissal of telling George not to tell him something. Clearly a secret, it appears.

“Lockwood?” The use of his last name startled him, especially when it came from you. He snapped his head to you. Eyes furrowed, but he brushed it off. “You said I’m demoted to research?” The confusion in your eyes rattled him. “What did you mean by that?” 

“You know…research for our cases.” He mustered a light hearted laugh, but it faded slowly. He didn’t miss the way Lucy and George sat up straighter. He too sat up taller. Whereas you slouched, trying to make yourself smaller. You were clearly someone important to the person next to you, much so that he went out of his way to open your drink and cut up your food into smaller portions. Yet, you only knew so much from what Lucy quickly informed you on, before his arrival. “Lockwood?” He laughed. “Getting tired of calling me Anthony now?” He meant well, but the surprise that struck you made his smile fall. 

“Anthony?” You met Lucy’s gaze. “Oh, but you called him-” Lucy frowns, shaking her head. You realize your mistake, hand placed over your mouth. “Lucy called you Lockwood. I didn’t know I referred to you differently.”

You didn’t know?

You didn’t know you referred to him as Anthony?

“Y-You always call me Anthony...” His voice shook, eyes narrowing as dread casted over him. “You told me that my name is beautiful. That more people should say it...So you call me by my first name instead.” 

How did you not remember?

What the hell was happening?

“I do?” You were filled with guilt instantly, watching the last bit of hope leave him.

“You did.” Your heart sinks to your stomach at his use of past tense words. Lockwood’s eyes avert from yours as he starts to realize why George and Lucy were acting differently. You woke up with amnesia. Having no recollection of them whatsoever. He ran a hand down his face, then stood up. The scrape of his chair caused a few heads to turn towards him. He glanced one more time at you then stormed off. Lucy called out to him to come back.

“I didn’t mean to upset him.” You frown. Lucy holds her hands out to you, shaking her head in reassurance.

“You did nothing wrong. I promise.” She smiles quickly. “George, stay with her, okay.” She then gets up to chase after Lockwood.

“I’m sorry!” You call out to her.

“It’s not your fault, Y/n.” George smiles sadly, reaching out to rub the top of your hand placed on the table top. “Lockwood is just a bit- This whole situation is-” He couldn’t think of a word.

“Gentle...” You voice the word Lucy told you.

“Yeah…gentle.” He nodded. You stay seated, eating your lunch quietly when a loud voice can be heard. Multiple heads turn towards the source.

“Do not touch me!” You flinch in your seat, the angry voice of Lockwood echoing from down the hall, unsettles you. You glance back to George who offers a grimace. 

“Everything will be fine...” George nods, mostly saying this to convince himself.

“I think I’ll have a few words with her doctor instead!” You glance back to the hallway, then to George. 

“Mostly fine...” He lets out a light laugh.