#But I wish it was me just once. I wish I was the first choice

[captain-bubble-wrap]

HELP ME PLEASE

Your quinn is literally my favorite!!!!!!!!!!! Can you write him and reader!girlfriend on the phone after the stars game? Your sweet/sad quinn is the best!!!!!!!!!

Oh, you're WAY TO KIND TO ME...! 🥹🥹 Let's see what I can do!

All you had texted was, "I love you."

Incoming Call: Quinny

Quinn's broken voice in that post-game interview had killed you. The way he had looked down before answering about how he was feeling, his thoughts on Millsy's trade, and how he was handling the noise of the dressing room as the team's captain -- it was obvious how much it all was affecting him. Unfortunately, you were twenty-two-hundred miles away, and you felt powerless to help him in any form.

"Hey, baby," you said upon answering the call.

Quinn's voice was low, and it was obvious he was beyond exhausted, body and mind, "Do you have a minute?"

"Of course." Your stomach tightened like you were about to receive some bad news. You hadn't heard him sound this way before and given how the day had gone, you knew it wasn't going to be a butterfly-inducing conversation.

"Let me get somewhere a little quieter. I need to hear your voice."

To you, he sounded desperate -- like he was at his breaking point. While you waited for him to walk to wherever he needed to be, you couldn't help but worry about him -- about what had caused him pain during the game, how losing JT and the others was weighing on him, and the stress of the upcoming tournament that was just four games away. You couldn't get the sad look of his face out of your mind. When was the last time he had actually had a good day, that he was happy without nagging stresses?

"Hey Mike, I'm gonna step out for a few minutes," Quinn said, obviously not talking to you. You couldn't hear the other man's reply but it must have been favourable as Quinn would finally start his conversation with you just a few seconds afterwards.

He sighed heavily, "I wish you were here. I-- I feel like everything is out of control and I don't know what to do."

The sound of wind was intertwined with his words. You wondered if he had stepped outside the arena to talk to you, somewhere to speak without listening ears.

"I wish I was there, too," you confessed, a pain growing in your heart. "You're trying to carry too much, baby."

"I have no choice, though."

You knew where he was coming from. The title of Captain meant you wore several hats, and sometimes more than one at a time. You knew he had all of them on at once. This season hadn't been easy, and something had you believing it wasn't going to get any better.

"I know," you mumbled. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," he breathed out, feeling guilty for calling you when he was feeling like he was. "I'm sorry to put this on you. I just don't know what to do. Everyone is looking to me for answers and insight, but I don't have any. I don't know how to fix the team, I'm carrying as much as I can every night. I'm asked about what's going on behind closed doors and the temperature of the room and I'm over it. It's like the media just wants to keep stirring the pot instead of letting us just work it out. Now I'm being asked about if the team rebuilds what that means for my future in Vancouver. I-- I just-- I can't-- handle everything right now." Your heart was breaking hearing him on the brink of tears. His voice was cracking and shaky. "I need you."

"I wish I was there, sweetheart. I'd do anything I could to help you."

"I love you," his voice at a whisper.

"I love you, too, Quinn."

The first whimper made you cover your mouth to keep yourself from doing the same. Quinn rarely cried, at least not when you were around. To hear him finally drop that ultra-reserved demeanour of his was crushing.

"Oh honey, you'll be okay," you tried to reassure him, but they were words without certainty, you knew that. "You're doing the best you can, and you need to realise that you need to put yourself first sometimes. You're pushing yourself too much. It's not on you to solely fix the team, Quinn, though I know you're trying. I've never seen you this way before, and I'm scared it's going to break you."

He was silent on the other end, aside from his muffled cries. You didn't need him to say anything, though hearing his voice would have made you feel better, which made you remember what he had said to you earlier: "I need to hear your voice."

Maybe he just needed you to talk to him.

"One day at a time, baby, please. Be happy where you are, and what you have. You're doing all you can, and I need you to know that it's okay to struggle, but it's also okay to be content with how things are. You know there are things out of your control, and you just have to let them work themselves out sometimes. You'll drive yourself crazy trying to put bandaids on everything. I don't want to lose you down that rabbit hole." You'd pause before adding one more thing, "I just want you to be okay."

Quietly you'd sit there and wait for a sign from him, or whatever it might be. A long moment of silence would follow your words, making you pull the phone away from your ear to make sure the call hadn't dropped.

"I miss you," he choked out, breaking the painful silence between the two of you.

"I miss you more, Quinn. I wish you were here."

"Me, too," he said, sharply inhaling, like he was trying to push those emotions back down and get over it. "Thank you for picking up everything -- the call, the pieces...me. I'd be so lost without you."

You'd shake your head, "You never have to thank me, baby. I just want to help you."

"I appreciate that," he sniffled. "I just wish I knew where to start."

"With yourself, Quinn," you said bluntly. "How are you feeling? I saw you take the stick to the head early."

It took him a few seconds to respond but you didn't mind, "I don't know, honestly. Between my hand and whatever is wrong with my leg, everything hurts. I'm tired. I'm drained. I wish I was home with you."

Everything he said carried so much weight and his emotions were so painfully honestly.

That was just Quinn.

He always spoke from his heart; wearing his heart on his sleeve every waking moment of his life. However this had a different air about it -- a nakedness. He was free to share his deepest fears with you, those raw feelings were bleeding from him with no hindrance. You appreciated that he felt so comfortable to open up like he was, and the fact that he was away from you, as well. Quinn didn't give the hint that he shared stuff like this with the guys on the team -- not like he did with you. You were different. He loved you -- you occupied a special piece of his heart like no on else did. That meant something special to him.

"You'll be home soon, baby. Just a little longer, okay?"

Through Quinn's end of line, someone was calling out to him, "C'mon Quinn-- the boy's are packing up, let's go."

You frowned hearing the empty orders, but you knew Quinn would have to end the call with you and head to the airport. There was always a sense of urgency after their games, especially the away ones.

"Yeah-- I'll be right there," he muttered, his voice dropping off at the end while he pretended to have himself together. "I'll call you when we get back to Vancouver."

"Be careful."

"I will," he paused. "Thanks, babe. For all that you do for me."

"Happy to help, Quinny. I love you."

For the first time, you heard his little giggle, "I love you, too."

[dharmafox]

Rewatching Mononoke after finally watching the original Bakeneko arc, and noticed how much the Medicine Seller ends up hurt and bleeding from fighting mononoke. Like, especially in the first Bakeneko arc, but it happens in the Mononoke series as well. Whats weird is, the blood and injuries (and once, ripped clothing; in the second Bakeneko arc, the bakeneko claws at his head, which rips his bandana and makes him bleed) are usually gone after the Mononoke is slain, and definitely gone by the time the episode is over. Which is just kinda weird. Is it because the Medicine Seller's human form is just an illusion? Or does slaying the mononoke heal him somehow? Or is it just a design choice, and I'm putting too much thought into it?

In addition to that, because I'm sappy: Seeing him get hurt kinda makes me sad, because like !!! He got hurt! There's blood! Somebody help him!

"Physician, heal thyself..."

I think it's definitely because the Medicine Sellers are more than human, and because a big part of their abilities is the capacity to make divided things whole. That happens with the slaying of the Umi Bozu and the Nopperabou: Genkei and Ochou both reunite with parts of themselves that they had denied and caused to split off from them.

There's another hint of this in "Bakeneko" #2. Haru tears her train ticket in half, and when the Medicine Seller picks it up off the floor and opens it, it's whole again.

I think it must be fairly easy for a Medicine Seller to repair any damage that's merely physical.

I think it's also implied that they have the capacity to divide things, or at least duplicate them, if they wish. In "Nue" the Medicine Seller is playing around with one of the wood blocks, and he's suddenly able to produce three more of them.

That said, it's really only the Bakeneko that draw blood. Maybe he's more physically vulnerable to them than to the other mononoke, or maybe they're just stronger. You may have noticed that the Karakasa is also able to draw blood from the second Medicine Seller (who's also perfectly fine shortly afterwards). It will be interesting to see if the other mononoke he faces will be able to do the same.

[sugary-daydreams3]

Grief trapped in blue sunglass lens [Gojo's funeral fanfiction]

Summary: Now that the students and Jujutsu associates healed their physical wounds, they have no choice but to face the elephant in the room. Satoru Gojo is gone and everyone deals with the void in their own way before the funeral begins.

Word count: 6.4k

Series: Lost chapters I wish Gege wrote about

A/N: Made this because me and many other people didn't get to see a Gojo funeral nor the character's feelings on him being gone. This is one of my biggest gripes with the ending of JJK. I had no problems with Gojo dying but I feel that how he was handled physically post Yujo fight left much to be desired.

So I decided to write about (mostly) everyone's coping with Gojo's death and a funeral service for him. Forgive me if the funeral may seem culturally inaccurate. Hopefully, no characters come across as too OOC, but some of these characters are hard to get right when they don't have much room to shine their personality in canon.

Glossy nails trail the white engraved letters and numbers above the matte black. She forgot to give back his credit card.  The last time she used it was Hallo-- 

Hall-- 

October 31st. 

October 31st. 

October. 

That fucking month with that fucking day. Like an alarm that keeps ringing and a clock that won’t move forward fused together. 

The month of horror, trick or treating, and bloody exploding eyeballs. The month were kids face real horror, not those stupid dumb skeletons, werewolves, and vampires. The kind of horror that will make someone either sample death or have it as their final meal. 

31st should have ended with her rocking the clothes she picked up eight hours before that fight. Gojo should have been eating endless candy and telling them “Job well done!” in that stupid annoying comforting voice of his. Not boxed away and expecting his students to come out on top in the chilly wild. 

She didn’t even see him die. She didn’t get to say her final words to him that just would have amounted to... 

“If you die your card is mine forever. So die, okay?” 

She couldn’t even say her fucked up, dark, cruel joke that was a mask of “Please don’t fucking die”. 

Why couldn’t I move? 

Why wasn’t I awake? 

Why wasn’t I present? 

Who wants to hear recollections of what happened between October 31st and December 24th? She wanted to help out with the Culling Games. She wanted to see the great battle of Sukuna vs. Gojo. She wanted to finally meet this Yuta kid and see everyone’s reaction to him coming back. She wanted to save Megumi when Yuji couldn’t. Picking up the pieces of Yuji’s mistakes. Being that deciding factor that could have prevented so much bullshit. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! Why wasn’t I here? 

Her only eye stings, blinking two tears to fall on the muted black card. The heartache trails down to the 2754 of the four-part row of digits. Nobara quivers her lips as she tries to swallow down pills of regrets, exclusion, and despondency. 

Residing dust forces a couple of coughs out of Inumaki. He waves off the floating particles and goes for the next book off Gojo sensei’s shelve. He grabs the spine of the book and slowly pulls it out.  

He gave up being curious on the subject matter of these books once he cleared the first row. Just of bunch of thick, mind-numbing pieces on Jujutsu, Cursed Energy, or Autobiographies on retired sorcerers.  

Turning from the back cover, in red bold letters his purple eyes reads: Learning Sign Language for your students. Written by... sounds like a random Japanese woman with some fancy doctor degree. 

Narrow eyes widen as confusing experiences lingering in his memory begin to click and warp into sense.  

On the third day of his first year, he remembers cringing at Gojo’s attempt to speak random rice ball ingredients to him. That was his “way” of trying to connect with him. Offended, Inumaki wrote him off and ignored any potential conversation to have with him at that point. 

Around early June, he walked up to see Gojo silently greeting him with fluid movements of his hands and fingers. As fluent as someone who been signing JSL for several years. Was that the reason he stopped trying to conversate with him three weeks prior? 

Taken back, Inumaki slowly signed back, leading to having their first full conversation ever. It ended with Gojo patting him on the shoulder and Inumaki turning to watch his goofy sensei walk off in a cheerful mood.  

Inumaki caresses the book and notices the personal sticky notes poking out of many pages. He looks behind him to see Panda pre-occupied. Inumaki sets the book in his bag, setting it aside to read through later. He shakes his head and stares at the half empty shelve for a long moment before continuing his duty.  

Panda was busy distracting himself with Satoru’s doodads instead of effectively cleaning out his office. Throw in the fact that it was a journey to simply carry things that would have taken him a few seconds to put away had he been in his original big body. But the funeral starts in a few hours so he has to stop monkeying around soon.  

Panda frowned. There was barely any time to “monkey around” ever since Satoru died. It seems like when he died, he took the fun and security with him. Did most of his friends grow to be so powerful from the battle on Shinjuku? Sure, they’re practically monsters at this point.  

But for a long time, Satoru’s level of strength gave them breathing room to take off the sorcerer mask sometimes. Now that he’s gone, there was no room to be a kid anymore. His friends are teenagers cursed with adult responsibilities; the rest of their adolescence stripped away like a bloody band aid.  

He’s a panda so he doesn’t really understand that feeling. However, he sees it with the forced smiles he’s greeted one second with frowns pulling them down moments after. Desensitized responses they all show in public contrasted with the quiet weeping he hears going on late night campus walks. It will always give him emotional whiplash. 

Life after Satoru was a canvas board of still grey with overwhelming dark blue surrounding it.  

Panda opens a brown box to see a bunch of stuffing peeking out. Dropping down, he turns the box around to see in black marker: Spare stuffing for Panda. 

Panda releases a deep sigh. He feels his stitches ache all over. 

Loose blue strains spills over the wholesome photo of her and Gojo that day. A day where her biggest concern was not looking stupid in front of the cute, strong, funny teacher at the Tokyo campus of Jujutsu High. A day where her classmates bickered with coal still in their eyes. A day when Mai was cranky and alive. When Mechamaru... 

Miwa shuts her eyes as her tears soaks her eyelashes. Blurry eyes open to take in the photo that seem like centuries ago, when it was only since September. Gojo’s peace sign and shared chipper smiles fill the holes in Miwa’s heart for a moment. Her thumbs zoom in on Gojo and lingers over his tall figure dominating most of the selfie. 

A small smile forms behind the isolated blues. “Gojo...” 

Kusakabe groans, rubbing the back of his head whenever his mind wanders to that blue eyed trouble maker. There were days he enjoyed the consistent stillness without that loudmouth breaking it. Then there were others where the silence was drowning; his cheery, obnoxious voice completely void to lift up everyone’s spirits when needed. Today was one of those days. 

Twirling his toothpick, he remembers the countless times Gojo annoyed the hell out of him with his comments and pranks. There wasn't a day where he wouldn’t drag one of the Jujutsu faculty and staff in his shenanigans. So bad that one-time Gojo went too far and it ended with Kusakabe wishing he was dead. 

Be careful what you wish for, I guess. 

Kusakabe looks up at the passing clouds trailing through the blue. For such a day for Jujutsu High, the sky didn’t reflect the collective feeling. The man bats his eyes as the ambient nature lures him into a still mind. 

“Kusakabe!? Are we serious right now!?” One of the higher ups barked. 

Gojo shakes his head, “Is there ever a day you guys don’t bitch about--” 

“I agree that sending me would be a horrible idea.” Kusakabe interrupted. Gojo turns to see Kusakabe wearing a “Yes sir. No sir.” attitude. He knew he was lying.  

Kusakabe has been looking forward to a sorcerer mission like this ever since he met him. A mission where all you do is investigate and gather information, no risking your life, no fighting at all really. More like a trip out on Japan’s quiet grassy countryside with a side quest of being an undercover sorcerer representing Jujutsu High.  

Gojo steps forward. “Kusakabe is our best grade 1 sorcerer. He’s no fighter and a nice guy for the most part. He would be better to talk to lame country folk than I am...” 

The elders remain silent. Kusakabe can feel the tension rising. “Gojo, you don’t have to--” 

“I got too much other shit going on to do some boring mission in the countryside. If you send me instead of him then you guys are more senile than I thought.” 

“Gojo!” Kusakabe quickly turned to the many shoji screens hiding the higher up’s bodies. The fact that he had no idea how they were reacting put his worry in overdrive. 

One of the elders sighs, “We don’t feel like arguing with you on this. If you truly think Kusakabe of all people would fit this mission then so be it. But if he fails this, he will suffer the consequences. His mistakes are not on us.” 

“When is it ever on you?” Gojo bounced back. 

“Dismissed.” The other elder said. 

Once they left the room, Gojo wraps his arms around Kusakabe shoulders and bellowed out his carefree laugh. “Don’t forget to bring me back some gifts. You owe me afterall.” 

Kusakabe lowers his head away from the blue and moving white to face the cracked, washed solid grey.  

His heart didn’t ache for Gojo. Tears didn’t trail down for him either. But the crumbs of memories made him appreciate the little explosive highlights he gave his boring, uneventful life. Like those popping candies that felt like fireworks in your mouth.  

Yeah, Gojo was those popping rock candies. 

Hakari holds the stack of yen as the various fights go on the multiple T.V. screens. Licking his thumb, he counts through the overwhelming amounts of money from his lucky bets. Although he’s been hanging around Jujutsu High more as of recent, lately everything has been about Gojo, his death and preparing for his funeral. All of the mope and serious mumbo jumbo was getting to Hakari, so he retreated to his fight club. 

“When does it start?” Kirara asked, her pink french tips gently caressing his ashy blonde thick hair.  

Hakari shrugs, “Donno. Seems like everyone is too depressed to talk n’ shit.” 

Banding up the yen, Hakari montages the times Gojo left him feeling the fever he often seeks out of many.  

Training him so hard he puked the rest of that day. Pushing him to go after Kirara and teasing him about his crush. Giving him shitty relationship advice. That one time they did that silly pose where they flashed their teeth then flexed their muscles for the camera. Cheating Gojo out of thousands of yen over a wrong move during Blackjack. 

Hakari traces the numbers of the yen, smirking over the fun times that crazy man with the blindfold gave him. 

Two streaks of damp wet are noticed when the wind sway past Ijichi’s jawline. Another dam of woe threatens to burst until he quickly wipes his sore undereye. He doesn’t even know why he’s getting so emotional over someone who and still-- 

Not sill. Damnit brain, get with the program. 

Someone who used to bully him relentlessly ever since they were kids up until just a few weeks ago. To him, Gojo was nothing but... 

Why are you still here? Need me to punch you to get the message? 

You failed you’re driving test again? You can’t even do that? Go join a local circus at this point. 

Shoko is out of your league, man. You don’t even have the balls to talk to her. How can you expect her to like you. 

Ijichi, don’t piss me off.  

A guy like that doesn’t deserve his tears. Nope, not at all... 

The only person I trust to catch me if I fall is me and, um, Ijichi I think. 

Wanna go out for some hot cocoa? It’s freezing today. 

Well, well, well. You finally took Shoko out for dinner, huh? I guess the world is ending soon. So, how did it go? 

Look, Ijichi may be a wet doormat but he’ll get things done for us and the students. C’mon guys, give him more credit than that. 

Ijichi huffs a stuttered breath. Nope. Nope. No. No. No-- 

You’re the man I trust the most. That’s the only reason I need. 

Ijichi breaks down. A new coat of tears staining his dry skin. His wrung heart soaked again with a grief too complex to explain. 

Cigarette smoke brush past Shoko’s dry, dull brown hair. No tears had nor will shed for her childhood friend. She wasn’t a crier, even when she was little. When her father died a long time ago, not one tear dropped.  

Instead, there was heavy rocks that magically weighed in her chest. A weight too heavy for her slim body to carry. A weight she dismisses publicly but can’t ignore in private. So, in true Shoko fashion, she grabs a pack of ciggies and breaks her 11th vow to never smoke again. Looking out on the campus field, her eyes strain with stress and lack of sleep. Her heavy heart was to blame this time. 

“Can’t believe I’m being peer pressured right now.” Gojo says in a jokingly nervous tone. 

Shoko lifts up the cigarette, unlit and waiting. “I’m tired of being “The Smoker Chick” of our school. It’s always so lonely smoking by myself.” 

“Regardless if I smoke this or not, you’ll always be “The Smoker Chick”.” 

“Gojo please.”  

Gojo sighs and contemplates the nicotine stick itching to ruin someone’s lungs. He was far from being a goody too shoes but smoking wasn’t his thing. 

“You’ll look so cool doing it. It’ll just be between us.” Shoko persisted. 

Gojo rolled his eyes and snatched the cig from her. He placed it between his perfect, straight whites and waited a moment before turning to Shoko. Shoko stood in disbelief until Gojo snapped his fingers in front of her. 

“Well hurry up and light it!” Shoko quickly digs in her pocket and lights the white end. It takes a few seconds for the cigarette to burn before smoke waves out of the tip. Gojo inhales then blows out a line of smoke effortlessly. Shoko gasps, “How did you not cough?” 

“Duh! Look who you’re talking to.” 

“Oh...yeah. Right.”  

The juxtaposition of Gojo’s divine-like aura and angelic appearance partaking in the trashy, commoner act of smoking was a sight to behold. Almost like he gave a middle finger to his reputation as the strongest sorcerer and decided to be a normal dude for once. Shoko remembers judging Gojo’s bougie attitude during freshman year. She saw his snobbish nature a mile away before he even introduced himself to the class. One thing about Gojo though, he never failed to surprise her with his willingness to bring himself down from heaven. 

Shoko is dazed by Gojo puffing out a few quick smokes before she is presented a hit. 

“This shit tastes awful. How do you smoke these every thirty minutes?” Gojo barfed his tongue out. 

Shoko giggles and breathes in the loud smoke that always hugs her brain. “Helps me stay numb to the bad stuff in the world.” 

Although that was Gojo’s first and last time ever smoking, their budding friendship springs tenfold. 

Shoko was back at that same spot they wasted their youth a decade and so ago. Only there was no arrogant, annoying but funny classmate to secretly cast her judgement on anymore. What only remains is a cigarette and a woman who had an uneventful life outside of being a sidekick to Gojo’s adventures. 

She takes another hit, her tongue recoils at the cigarette taste. Now she gets what he meant back then. 

The drizzling rain show no signs of giving nature a break from the drab, cold atmosphere. Megumi lays against his cushioned but firm mattress, his brain refusing to move his body. Tears quietly drip down to damp the grey sheets, adding to the collection of wet dots on his bed. The air condition overpowered the pitter-patter behind the window. The dull sound clearing his head to reflect his whirlwind called life these past couple months. 

Countless memories punched his mind. There was so many foggy, forgettable memories of Gojo growing up. His attempt to give them meaning and higher resolution gave him a slight headache. 

First his sister then-- 

Gojo.  

He saw it while being a few feet away; Gojo’s blood forming small puddles, leaving his body with his life tagging along. The tired whisper of “My bad, Megumi.” a few moments before his eyes went still. He couldn’t even respond due to that curse going on about some dumb speech after almost getting both of them killed. 

Sukuna.  

Heat overwhelmed his body as soon as the name rung. He hates him. He hates him. He hates him. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Red and blue hatred evolves into purple flames the longer it sits, burns, and melds. Never has he felt so much rage off a name alone. 

Blood on his hands without the purpose and maliciousness to back it up. Sukuna was gone but the damage will never fade away. It’s here to overstay it’s welcome and haunt him forever.  

“Good riddance.” Maki lets the intrusive thoughts travel to whispers.  

Alone in the tidy bathroom, she struggles to create grief over someone that just annoyed her most of the time. The only one she believes deserved her grief was her sister, Mai. 

Don’t get her wrong, she respected the hell out of Gojo’s strength. But the only solid memories she has of him is sending her favorite junky snacks whenever it was her time of the month and excused her from class that week.  

Other than that, he was like a gnat that wouldn’t get out of your face. Loud for no reason. Failed to read the room. Teased her about Yuta, even during the time he went to Africa. Pestering her about dumb school shit. Yeah, that’s the Gojo she knows. Not this revisionist history almost everyone on campus is crafting for him now that the bastard is gone gone.  

Yuta and Gojo had a closer relationship than others students, which unfortunately, makes him stricken with the depressing “Gojo is gone” epidemic too. But compared to him and the Jujutsu High students and staff, he actually has good reason to grieve.  

It’s just too overwhelming to deal with for more than an hour. She had to get a breather from seeing someone she cares about so defeated emotionally. She seen Yuta cry before but not to this extent, not this long either. 

Another round of sobs scolds her indifference to Gojo as they breakthrough the thick bathroom door. Maki looks down and moves her toes against the maroon bathroom rug to build back her patience and tolerance. Letting out a short breath, she pushes herself off the sink and keeps her stoic disposition.  

A blank, emotionally collected expression that means well beneath the surface.  

Yuta cries drag out as he lays on the floor. Maki shifts when she places a palm against his back, not sure how to handle his anguish and piercing sobs. 

Thankfully, Yuta’s dorm was positioned to be isolated at the end of the hall. The other male student's dorms are spaced out from each other so he didn’t have any direct neighbors. But still, his mourning was loud enough to hear muffles across his front door. 

“Yuta.” Maki said.  

She didn’t know what to say exactly. She, like many other Zenins, weren’t the best when it came to nurturing. Even though she feels nothing about Gojo dying, she feels everything seeing her best friend so ...devastated. 

Yuta looks up at her for a long moment, tears trailing by the second, lips quivering, throat tight with words he can no longer say to his sensei. He hugs her waist and cries into her chest.  

“I used him, Maki. He’s gone and the first thing I did was use him. It should have been--” 

“Stop. Don’t finish that. It shouldn’t have been anyone else instead. He did what he had to do for us to win.” Maki comforted. Yuta shakes his head, unable to accept logical reasoning. 

“I-I-I...” He sucks in his breath after every attempt to speak. "I didn’t even get to say--”  

Yuta hurls, his mouth seconds away from bursting open. Maki quickly goes for the bucket and puts it under his head. He pukes for the third time today, projecting out yesterday's lunch and dinner that he ate too little of. Maki sighs and pats his back to get him to vomit it all out. Ever since he returned back to his original body, Yuta has been puking whenever he thinks about the most fucked-up stunt he ever pulled. 

Once Yuta was done, he sobs tamed down to a string of lingering cries. He didn’t bother to change his shirt or wipe the corners of his mouth. Maki grabbed a tissue and cleaned up the small bits of vomit around his mouth. She heads back into the bathroom to clean out the half-filled blue bucket yet again. 

Looking up, he sees a framed picture of him and Gojo during his time in Africa. Gojo had him in a headlock whilst making him laugh about something he hates that he can’t remember. Yuta heart swells, the picture clearly being taken off guard by Miguel. Another wave of sorrow drowns him the longer he stares at Gojo in his white dress shirt, sunglasses, alive and well... 

Yuta face scrunches, a fresh sting of tears falling down. He lays down on the cold floor, allowing the grief to lure him to sleep. 

Yuji rubs over his face, a stubborn migraine pinching his thoughts. Snot leaking to tease the tip of his tongue. Eyes in desperate need of a bottle of eyedrops to make up for the tiny streams it released the past few hours. His mind was active but his body was lazy, lying on his bed through the whole morning. But he had to get this eulogy done, if nothing else. 

“He was unserious when things were tense. He trolled...whether you were a man, woman, or child. He’d... He’d... He-- dammit!” 

He turns on his stomach and picks up the paper again. He reads over the line again, then two more times to write it on his memory. 

“Hell, he’d even walk in your dorm to check on you only to leave with your house slippers moments later.”  

Again. 

“Hell, he’d even walk in your dorm to check on you only to leave with your house slippers moments later.” Yuji groans. 

“Don’t say hell, that might not fly well.” He scolded himself. 

Yuji sets the paper on his nightstand so his brain can have a break. He read over his eulogy so many times that his mind is starting to slip with the constructed presentation he went over since last night. It doesn’t help that throughout this practicing, he’s been crying whenever he gets lost in thought about Gojo-sensei. Maybe he needs to cool down a bit. 

On the edge of his window sits one of Gojo’s many blindfolds. Yuji reaches over with minimal effort and caress the fabric. Black cotton comforts his fingertips while Yuji gives this simple thing a soft gaze. The very first thing he noticed about that strange looking man on that life changing night. 

Scenes of warm and fun premiere from his memory bank, each starring Gojo sensei. Smiles to laughter with jokes, ease, and good food in between. 

Sensei steals a fry from Nobara’s-- 

Sliced open. Blood dripping down white baggy pants and black combat slippers. Torso on the ground. Harsh ice blue still yet soft. Live and unskippable. Live with no rewinds. Sukuna’s joy celebrated in the wrong body. No more rough ruffles on the head. No more boring lessons elevated by high-energy humor and multiple tangents of his glory days. 

Yuji winces and attempts to rub out the migraine and horrible memories intruding the good. There is a knock on the door. “You’re not naked are you?” Nobara voice is heard from behind the door. 

Yuji shakes his head as if Nobara could see. “No.”  

Nobara walks in, remnants of rain dripping from her raincoat. She had a blank face, her usual energy turned down a few notches. “Hey.” 

Yuji barely lifts up a wave, still smoothing out his nerves. “Hi.”  

“So everyone is either busy or depressed so you’re my last hope around here.” Nobara confessed. Yuji lifted up the eulogy, “Can’t. Too busy.” 

Nobara sucks her teeth then observes Yuji’s face. “You look like you’re more in the too depressed camp than the too busy one.” 

“Yeah, that too.” 

Nobara walks over and grabs the eulogy. Yuji lays back down, “Since you’re here, I need to clarify one last thing for my speech. Did sensei buy you those tampon things or those purple diapers?” 

Nobara stops reading and shoots him a look. “Why are you broadcasting my period for the whole Jujutsu High to hear?” 

“It’s supposed to be one of the many things Gojo did for us as students. I couldn’t think of anything else, cut me some slack.” 

Nobara sighs, “He used to get me pain meds and a bunch of tampons whenever my cramps would go into overdrive. And it’s called pads, not purple diapers.” 

Yuji nodded and formed a curve of a smile. “Thanks, Kugisaki.” 

“I could go and hang out with some girls I know from other schools but it looks like the rain is getting worse. What time is the funeral anyway?” 

“It’s in four hours, around two I think.” 

Nobara nodded, “Guess I’ll just go back to my dorm and sulk like everyone else. See you later.” She gets off to leave. “Oh, save me a seat too.” 

Yuji nodded with a frown, not having enough optimism left to give fake smiles. “Sure, see you.” 

Alone again, Yuji picks up the worn white sheet with creases and wrinkles. Headache tamed, he decides to recite again. You can never be too polished. 

“Gojo-sensei was a...” 

Todo sheds single strings of tears while many games of ping pong against Gojo replays in his mind. Besides Mei Mei, Gojo was his common partner in his favorite sport. Now that he’s gone, he had no one to slam “cheating” allegations to in an intense game during the humid, long summer afternoons. 

Ui Ui sniffles as he looks down, avoiding the blunt reality of the casket up ahead. He wasn’t the biggest acquaintance of Gojo but a few moments of the past built a friendly nature between them. His briberies of fried bananas to get direct access to Mei Mei. Being a one-man audience (he slept through his blindfold) for spoken word poetry he wrote about his sister when no one else bothered to hear. Gojo never failed to match his childish energy when other adults or big kids were “too busy” to entertain him. The boy’s quiet sniffles prompted a head rub from his older sibling. 

The pointy ends of Mei Mei’s red nails pierce through her left palm. Her right palm comforts the juvenile emotions of her baby brother. Her face remains calm but blue fire bursts in her heart.  

1.5 Million yen. All that rich fuck had to do is pay me 1.5 million yen back and what does he do? Fuck around and die. Hmph! He probably died to cheap his way out of his debt. Damn you Satoru Gojo. Damn him. 

Ino stood with his ski-mask firm against his chest, looking forward with respect. Gojo was more like an older brother than a co-worker. Despite the pain he feels, he refuses to look away from the body. 

Momo stands next to Miwa, people watching the many guests standing in line to pay their personal respects to the body. As soon as she came, she made sure to grab the nearest seat and keep her head down. Dead bodies always freaked her out. People always assumed she be fine with that kind of stuff since she gives “witchy” vibes but no way. It was the way the body just sat there, all sense of spark or fire vanished. Also, that silly fear that a dead body will raise and walk towards her. God, she hopes they close the casket soon.  

Kirara hugs on to Hakari’s arm as she quietly weeps to herself. Hakari wasn’t the “comforting” type but all she needs from him was his arm and shoulder for support. During the time it was her vs. the conservative Jujutsu World when she decided to transition, Gojo was one of the few who had her back. She has his support from the moment she began dressing feminine all the way to the moment she began going by Kirara. It wasn’t a problem for Gojo to call her by her true name right away since he thought her dead name was forgettable as hell. 

Sure, Gojo wasn’t perfect and had his moments where his views were a bit dated, but he was willing to own up to his mistakes and learn for the better. She’ll never forget the stereotypical girly shit he would buy her because he didn’t know her personal taste that well, not that she even knew at the time either. Corny gifts and unconditional support are why her mascara and eyeliner were messy all around her under eye.  

Most attendees dressed in purple while others sulked in black. Ages from teen to end of the road mingled together within a pot of grief, visible respect, and reservation. Some felt internal relief that the bastard was gone. Some cried harder than they would if their actual father died.  

Gojo lied still in a polished classic black casket, wearing a blank emotion that he would hate everyone to see. His cut, pieced back by Shoko, was barely noticeable. If you weren’t given the details of his death, you’d probably would question how he died. The line to view his body was beginning to reach its end, preparing everyone to mentally checkout for an hour and a half. 

A collected Megumi stared at Gojo in a distracted haze. It was stupid, but he felt like Gojo was playing some sick prank and he’s going to pop out and yell some stupid shit any second now. The longer he stares at the body’s lack of movement, the confirmation rings hollow in his mind. Thankfully Nobara and Yuji kept to themselves, because he’s not in the mood to make idle small talk to take their mind off the obvious.  

Yuta’s sorrow could be heard faintly throughout the large quiet space but not loud enough to distract from the ceremony. His tears took all of the moisture from his face, leaving him paler than usual. Messy black hair clashed with his neat tux that took forever to fit him in. It was a miracle for Maki to get him in that, let alone bring him here. 

 It was a tough sight to see as Yuta was now regarded as the strongest sorcerer of the upcoming generation. Yuta usually had a friendly, shy demeanor around his peers while being focused and stoic during battle. It was rare to see such a rock morph into glass, his pieces laid for the whole institution to see.  

Yuta could care less, the repercussions of his public image being in an awkward, pitiful state wasn’t even a thought in the thick of his pain. He could repair that with time and his rapid growing reputation. This is the last time he’ll ever see Gojo-sensei and his heart can’t take it. 

Throughout most of the service, Yuji idly stares at Gojo-sensei’s memorial card. A portrait of him wearing a bright, goofy smile placed above the December 7th, 1989 - December 25th, 2018 felt like visual whiplash. Yet, he kept staring at it until a microphoned call of his name lifts his head up. 

“Itadori-kun, are you still going to read your eulogy for us today?” Ijichi directs, slightly confused of Yuji’s zoned out state. 

“Oh, yeah, for sure. Just...” Yuji grabs the piece of paper from Nobara’s lap and scoots through the aisle. He walks up to the podium, feeling stares and invisible opinions hover over his back. He gently grabs the mic from Ijichi and sets his eulogy across his face.  

Looking up, the stares feel more intense as the rows and rows of straight-faces set social anxiety in his stomach. It was weird, he usually had no problem speaking publicly to an audience, he was a social butterfly after all. Funerals love throwing everyone’s vibe off, even a generally confident one like his, he assumes. 

“Um, hi guys—hi everyone.” 

He quickly goes over the first line to trigger his trained memory to make the speech sound fluent and genuine. He prays to whoever is listening to not let his mind go blank at a time like this. 

“Gojo sensei was a goofball.”  

The silence screams for a moment as the opening line registers in everyone’s minds. A few chuckle, most keep their solemn unimpressed looks, while others are not even on this planet. Yuji clears his throat. 

“He was unserious when things were tense. He trolled you whether you were a man, woman, or child. Hell, he’d even walk in your dorm to check on you, only to leave with your house slippers moments later.” Many students laughed at the last comment. Yuji looks up and chuckles along, a confidence block stacked. 

“He wasn’t a teacher who sugar-coated things, his words were more salt-coated. It stings from being so blunt, but it was needed in order for you to have more flavor.” Yuji takes a quick scan and sees that more people are in tuned with his words. Second block stacked. 

“Growing up, I only had my grandfather for family. So while I kinda knew what it was like to have a dad, I spent a good portion of my life taking care of him during his last years so I forgot what it felt like. Gojo reminded me of that feeling.” 

“He gave life advice outside of teaching. He would take us out for ice cream after missions. One time, he bought those weird tampon things and sea salt caramel ice cream for Nobara during her...y’know.” Nobara gives him a look after he shoots a nervous chuckle her way. 

“He would walk Megumi’s dogs on Saturday mornings. He’d crack a joke in sign that only Inumaki-senpai would understand. He was tough on me, Hakari-senpai, and Okkotsu-senpai during training because he wanted us to take advantage of the potential we couldn’t see. He was...” 

Yuji looks up to see Yuta staring at him with teary but curious eyes, desperate to know what he’s about to lay on the crowd next. Yuji directs a small, sympathetic smile at him then looks down. 

“He was our constant entertainment during the long, boring hours of our jobs. He unlocked the laughter and ease that we often hid to condition ourselves so we could endure the next mission. He made hell feel like home. He was our Gojo-sensei when the world just saw him as Gojo Satoru.” 

Tears don’t hold back on some folks faces. What they expected to be a generic but appropriate eulogy turned out to be an off-beat, heartfelt, kinda corny eulogy written by a dude who loved his teacher. A rare case of a dude who isn’t clever with words evoking more emotions out of a crowd more than any writer ever could. 

“I’m sure some of you struggle to move forward with this loss. Some of you may simply be here to pay respects and move on with their lives preferably without sensei. Or you may be like me, someone just going through the motions and may not know what to do, say, think, or feel. But Gojo-sensei is gone and all we can do is reflect on the echos of his existence.” 

Yuji lets out a deep breath, satisfied to have gotten through his eulogy, the weight off his shoulders. His eyes flickers to see many nodding at his last statement. He scans through his last sentence and nods to himself to bring it home. 

“Thank you, Gojo-sensei, for being the goofball with the blindfold and thank you all for listening.” Everyone except the elders clapped for Yuji, moved by his honest words and pure approach. Yuji didn’t register the applause nor Ijichi’s transition to the next segment since his heart was pounding against his left chest. 

There was another wrinkle added to the eulogy when he goes to sits back down. He stares at his knees to contemplate his social triumph. Nobara looks at him and pats his upper back while Megumi simply gives him a blank look, jailing his “Good job.”. Yuji breathes deep through his nose and gives himself little nods, back in his own world to process those past few minutes. 

The rest of the service goes smoothly, time moving quicker due to Yuji black flashing through the seemingly unbreakable ice. After the main service, many students and staff agreed to meet at the school yard where the funeral bonfire repast will be held. 

While Gojo was being cremated, the bonfire turned out to be a lively celebration of life after so much grief wrung at the service. Snow trinkled down amongst the light conversations, coping dark humor, taste bud-rising food and drinks, and tear stains. Taking a break entertaining his peers, Yuji looked up to admire the floating ice. His irises went up and down, low right and high left, no different from when he saw snow as a kid. Laughter and smiles were behind Yuji, but all he can feel was the snow nurturing the child he locked away. 

Ashes leave out of the hands of many, gliding above the flowers revived by spring. Cherry blossom petals dance with Gojo in the gentle wind. The early days of April was always Gojo’s favorite time of the year, it was only fitting that his departure was during its peak.  

The new year of Jujutsu High begins without the blindfolded goofball to kick it off with overwhelming enthusiasm and junior high-level jokes. Second years, third years, and even the students that graduated are moving forward after months of mental detours. Now, there was a fresh set of first years oblivious to the horrors and traumas that awaits them. It’s a pity they won’t have that funny man in the sunglasses to help them endure their next twelve months of hell.  

[crowsofdarkness]

Dorogaya: Chapter Seven

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader.

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, kidnapping, violence.

Summary: It has been a few years since Bucky and Reader went into hiding. Just when they thought they were slowly building a life together, the past comes back with a vengeance.

Authors Note: This is the sequel to Soldat! You should read that series first. This takes place during Civil War. Tags are open if anyone is interested!

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox @that-blonde-girl @cats-chaotic-mind @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @pumpkin-babydoll @ordelixx @starfly-nicole @j23r23 @baw1066

Soldat Masterlist | Dorogaya Masterlist

The soft vibrating of the quintjet rumbled against my feet as I sat down next to Bucky while Steve drove. We had been up in the air for a while now but we were all tired from our fight. We wanted to rest before the next fight. 

I dared to look over to Bucky, who had his eyes trained hard against the back of Steve’s head. So many emotions were running through him. 

Anger. 

Rage. 

Confusion.  

Sighing, I placed a hand on his knee and gave it a squeeze. He turned his gaze towards me and forced a smile. 

“I’m okay,” he tried to reassure me but I knew. 

“Do you want to talk?” I asked. 

He shook his head before turning his attention to Steve once again. “What’s going to happen to your friends?” 

A loud sigh escaped through his lips and Steve shook his head. “Whatever it is, I’ll deal with it.”

“I don’t know if I’m worth all this, guys.” Bucky admitted with a sad sigh. 

“Buck,” I sighed. “Don’t say that.” 

“What you did all those years, it wasn’t you. You didn’t have a choice,” Steve said over his shoulder. 

“I know. But I did it,” Bucky said without missing a beat. 

The tears started to form in my eyes and I shook my head while standing up. I couldn’t sit and let Bucky feel bad about himself for what he did all those years as The Winter Soldier. He was forced to kill all those people. 

I sat towards the back of the jet on one of the weapons crates and tried to calm myself with deep breaths. 

“Doll?” 

Tearful eyes met with Bucky’s sad ones and all I could feel from his was one thing; he was worried about us. 

“I’m fine, Bucky.” I reassured him. 

“You’re crying,” he noticed. 

“It’s been a very long day,” I admitted with a sigh. 

Bucky came in front of me and spread my knees open with his metal hand, stepping between them. The same hand pulled my braid free and ran fingers through my hair, combing out the knots. 

I closed my eyes, enjoying the small moment of domestic bliss as he massaged my scalp. I hummed in pleasure, wishing we were in a different situation; back in our home in Romania, just the two of us laying in bed. 

We never had the chance to be intimate with each other, Bucky only feeling comfortable with cuddling and kisses. I was fine with it at first but there was a part of me that wondered if we would ever take that next step. 

We’ve never even kissed with tongue, only a few pecks. 

His plump lips brushed against my forehead. “Tell me what you’re thinking.” 

I shrugged my shoulders. “I was missing our home. I wish we could be there right now.” 

Bucky smiled. “It wasn’t much but we made it ours, huh?”

The question I wanted to ask kept trying to crawl its way through my throat but I didn't want to push Bucky more than he was today. 

“Hey,” he softly spoke, “What’s going on?” 

Hesitating for a moment, I sighed. “I have to be honest with you. About Steve and me. We didn’t just work together, we sort of had something together.” 

Bucky’s body went rigid before he released the anger with a sigh. “I know.” 

My grasp fell slightly on his hips. “You do?” 

“You’re pretty easy to read, doll,” he gave me a smug smirk. “Is there still something going on between you two?”

Immediately I shook my head. “No. Not since the night I took you to my family cabin.”

“If things were different, if I never found you, would you be with him right now?” Bucky questioned after a beat of silence. 

I hesitated, not sure what the answer was that he was looking for. 

“I don’t know, Buck. There was something there, I can’t deny that.” I admitted. 

He went to walk away but I grabbed his flesh arm to stop him. “I know you’re jealous of mine and Steve’s past but please just listen to me for one second.” 

When I knew he wasn’t going to leave, I continued. “Can you tell me what’s going on between us?” 

“I thought we were together,” Bucky said. 

“We are,” I nodded. “You know I’m fine with not putting a label on us until you feel comfortable with yourself and us.” 

Bucky’s eyes narrowed. “I am comfortable with us, doll.” 

I couldn’t help but scoff. “Are you? Because I’m afraid to take the next step with you because I don’t want to push you.”

“It’s difficult, Y/N. Trying to remember how to kiss a girl or even touch one. I haven't had sex with anyone since the night you left Hydra. It’s not easy having you around Steve, knowing that he knows more about those things. He can give you what you want and need now while I don’t know when I can give you that.” 

My hands cupped his cheeks and I forced him to look at me. “Listen to me, Bucky. I don’t want anyone else besides you. Steve and I did have something between us but I promise you that I’m only yours.” 

He nodded in my hands. “I’m trying, Y/N. I really am, I just need a little more time.” 

“I understand, I do. But you have to understand that when I’m giving you a foot, I can only ask for an inch in return.” I said. 

“I just wish I knew how,” Bucky admitted, eyes looking down for a quick second.

“What if we shared silent ques to know how we’re feeling?” I suggested. 

When Bucky agreed, I decided to show him what I was talking about. 

“A kiss on the cheek; friends,” I gave him a kiss on the cheek. 

I couldn’t help but laugh at his pouted lip. 

“A kiss on the forehead; I hope we're together forever.” 

A soft kiss on his forehead. 

“A kiss on the ear; you’re my everything.” 

A gentle kiss on his ear. 

Bucky sucked in a breath when my lips nibbled on his ear for a quick second. 

“A kiss on the hand; I adore you.” 

I made sure to grab his metal one, the one that he was still nervous to use around me, and gave a chaste kiss across his knuckles. 

“A kiss on the shoulder; we belong together.” 

I brought him close to me and left a quick kiss on his shoulder but scrunched my face when I was met with the taste of leather and velcro. 

“Sorry,” Bucky giggled. 

“A kiss on the neck; I want you,” I spoke lustfully. 

I placed a few kisses on Bucky’s neck, taking my time slowly sucking after each kiss. His hands wrapped around my hips, squeezing them with every kiss. 

“A kiss on the stomach; I’m ready.” 

With a gentle push, I was kneeling in front of Bucky and slowly lifted the bottom of his shirt and felt my insides melt when I saw his happy trail going from his belly button to the top of his belt buckle. A few soft kisses down the trail was all I did, not knowing if he was comfortable. 

He answered my silent question when his hands gripped through my hair, gently forcing a few more kisses across his belt line. While standing up, face to face with him, I placed a finger underneath his chin, my breath fanning over his lips. 

“A kiss on the lips; I love you.” 

Time seemed to stop as I placed a soft kiss on his lips. I had every intention of pulling away but Bucky had other plans. 

His lips collided with my own, hungrier than I had ever felt before. His arms wrapped underneath my ass, lifting me back onto the gun crates. Bucky pushed my knees open with his own and once again was standing in between them. 

I felt his tongue push its way through my mouth and for the first time in years, our tongues danced together in the lustful bliss we had created. My hands gripped his vest, trying everything I could do to pull him closer to me. 

Bucky’s flesh fingers traced down my neck over my collar bone and stopped at the zipper of my suit. He slowly started pulling the zipper down and I moaned into his mouth. 

“Bucky.” 

He mimicked my own moan, only louder, when my hands pulled at his belt, suddenly wanting his pants off. 

“Are you sure?” I asked after taking a quick break from kissing. 

Bucky answered my question with a kiss to the neck, teeth scraping alongside my veins and sucking love bites all over. The lust I felt over taking me from Bucky was strong and I felt myself getting dizzy at the thought of our naked bodies together. 

“Let's take it slow,” Bucky breathed into my neck. 

He worked the zipper down to my navel and his flesh fingers traced circles on my bare stomach. I laced fingers with his metal fingers, giving him a silent approval that he was able to use that hand for whatever he wanted. 

I knew he was still insecure about even touching me with his metal arm but wanted him to know that I wanted to feel the coolness of his fingers touching me, all over. 

In a quick instant, his vest was on the ground and as our lips still collided with each other, my hands started slowly pulling his shirt up but a loud cough from behind us, stopped our actions in an instant. 

Looking over his shoulder, I noticed Steve had his arms crossed over his chest while looking at us.

“We’re almost there.” Steve’s voice was curt. 

Wiping off the excess saliva from my lips, I fixed my hair while Bucky zipped my suit back up, his body covering Steve from seeing anything that was underneath. 

“Sorry,” I apologized. 

Steve only nodded before retreating back to the pilot seat, leaving Bucky and I alone. 

Our eyes locked and I could feel the lust ooze out of them. 

“Was that okay?” I questioned while biting my lip. 

“Doll, that was more than okay.” He groaned, thinking back to our heated kiss just a few moments ago. 

“We’ll have to pick up where we left off once this is all over,” I said.

Bucky’s flesh hand reached for mine and I accepted it, jumping off of the crate. Bucky placed a soft kiss on my lips before nodding towards Steve. 

“I’m going to use the bathroom before we land.” 

Nodding, I gave him a quick smile while he walked the other direction than me. Sitting beside Steve, we both sat there in silence, afraid to say the first word. 

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Steve apologized. 

“It’s fine,” I said while playing with my fingers. 

“He loves you, ya know,” Steve’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. 

“Hm?” I questioned, raising my head to face him. 

Steve put the jet on autopilot before looking over to me. 

“If you’re afraid that Buck won’t ever say it to you, don’t be. I’ve seen him with a lot of girls back in the day but none of them have changed him the way you do. You both have had a shit hand dealt to you over the years so if anyone deserves a happy ending, it’s him.” 

I smiled at Steve’s kind words. “Even if it’s with me?” 

“Even if it's with you,” he winked. 

Bucky returned, placing a kiss to my ear, and sat next to me. Linking our hands together, mine with his flesh, I couldn’t help but stare up at his soft blue eyes before I rested my head on his shoulder, trying to enjoy these last few moments of peace. 

[salty-autistic-writer]

Tommy (solo or with your choice of partner) + journaling

Tommy stares at the text he just typed out, his heart racing as his thumb hovers over “send”. At the last moment, he decides: No. I can't do this. 

He deletes the words again, his stomach sinking as the moment of courage he had dissolves.

It’s not the first time this has happened. Tommy blames the silence. It creeps into his mind which has gotten so used to listening to Evan talking. Where Evan’s voice once had been there’s now a void and something inside Tommy aches to fill it with words before it can consume him.

There's so much he wants to say. Needs to say. But he couldn’t say the words when he left Evan and he can't say them to the person he's sure hates him now.

The ache stays. Nags. Opens a wound and deepens it. So Tommy opens the notes app and writes it all down there.

Every thought he has about himself. Every apology that wants to pour out of him. Everything that’s wrong with him. Everything he didn’t manage to tell Evan and won’t ever tell because Evan deserves better.

I’m not a hero. I’ve never been a hero. I’ve always been a coward.

I’m an idiot.

I never wanted to hurt you too. 

I miss you so much. Miss your smile, your eyes, the way you laugh, miss your warmth, miss the way your lips open and you don’t notice the world around you when you’re really focused, miss holding your hand at night, watching a movie with you, eating dinner with you and talking about the day. I miss you so much, I can barely breathe.

I hope you hate me. You should. You were so hopeful and honest when you said you wanted me to move in with you. And I am the coward who ran before he could see things happening because, in my experience, good things don’t last.

I’m not brave. Of course, you think I am. The truth is, I’ve always been hiding behind some kind of mask. Trying to pretend everything is alright. That I’m alright. I never wanted you to have to deal with all that baggage I’m carrying around. Now I wonder what you would have said if you caught a glimpse of it. It’s selfish, isn’t it? I wanted the good things. I didn’t want the bad things. But it should be both.

Sometimes I dream about going back to you. Asking you for another chance. Like you did. I wonder what you would say. In my dreams, you’re kind and understanding. Maybe I should try. What do I have to lose?

I’m sorry, Evan. * The sky is dark with smoke. Tommy wishes he could see the blue one more time.

Howie is not cracking jokes this time. Instead, he tells Tommy to hold on in a tense and focused voice.

Did my phone burn? Tommy wonders before he gives in and passes out. God. I hope so.

Thanks for asking! <3

(AO3 Link)

[gardensanddumbasses]

OKAY!!! Took me a bit to go through my bookmarks but here we go. Danny Phantom is honestly a Batfam gateway drug so I had to filter it out, but I managed to keep the rec list to just DP. Some of these might not be multichapter exactly, but they're all greater than 10k words. Obviously I haven't read through the entire DP tag top to bottom but these are my personal stand out favorites.

Echoes by PhantomTwitch was one of the first DP fics I ended up reading. 150k and 30 chapters it's a nice decently long read. No shipping but we've got a lot of close friendships and Danny's parents trying to be good parents once that do find out. Starts as a nobody knows au with so much tasty angst.

Ghosting Along by TourettesDog is a super good one but it's kind of open ending and angst heavy. Danny, upon having his portal accident, never realizes he's a halfa so he lives all of his time as a ghost. 21k words and 7 chapters. Again, no shipping, but lots of friendship angst.

An Early Start by SpectacledRenegade is certainly a unique fic with Danny's portal accident happening much earlier in his life at four years old and stranding him in the ghost zone. 66k words and 25 chapters, this one is not the kindest to Jack and Maddie. Again, no shipping but a lot of good friend trio stuff. Jazz is absolutely based in this one and it adds in some Vlad Masters redemption while making it feel remarkably natural and make sense for the context.

Cracked Clay Cup by Marsalia is another rather Jack and Maddie unfriendly fic. At 30k words and 18 chapters the entire premise of this fic is a custody battle over Danny. Absolutely everyone is trying to adopt him and Danny is not particularly vibing with it but he'll cope. If you pay attention you can probably see the direction things are going pretty easily and who ultimately ends up with custody of Danny.

kintsugi by mystyrust is the exact emotional opposite to Cracked Clay Cup. while the former focuses on how broken the relationship between Danny and his parents is, this one entirely pays attention to the repair of said relationship and the growth of his parents in an attempt to better understand Danny. 24k words and 8 chapters, I found this one to be super satisfying but also I'm a sucker for Jack and Maddie getting a chance to repair their relationship with Danny.

Epiphany by TorScrawls is part of a series called Of Portals and Phantoms the likes of which is fully complete so you'll be able to read the whole series. What I like about this one is that the title really says it all. Maddie and Jack realize that what they know about ghosts is wrong, and instead of pushing through, decide instead to revisit the science behind their beliefs and rethink those beliefs when the science is wrong. The first series entry is 51k and 11 chapters, but the series as a whole sits at 127k words and I really like the final fic in the series.

Birds of a feather by DP_Marvel94 is a guilty pleasure of mine because I've always loved winged characters and by extension wing fics. At 12k words and 2 chapters it's one of the shorter fics I've recommended but it's such a delight for me personally. Heavy focus on the friendship trio and Danny himself.

Prove That You Deserve the Answer by DarthFrodo is one I've reread a couple times. Body swaps are usually super hard for me to read because more often than not I get second hand embarrassment and just can't finish the story, but this one is an exception. At 24k words and 4 chapters we have Maddie getting into an argument with her kids and after saying a wish out loud (terrible choice in Amity really) she and Jazz end up swapping bodies. Reveals happen and I just adore the family dynamics in this one.

broken trust and the wounds hidden behind by UnderForeversGrace is a Jack centric fic in a nobody knows au that starts off by Jack finding a flash drive Danny left behind in case he doesn't come home. The fic itself then focuses in on Jack trying to regain Danny and Phantom's trust. It's 27k words and 7 chapters, but it's worth noting that it's part of a series called Trust and Wounds. The series is sadly still incomplete so we've gotta bribe the author with comments but the first entry in the series is my favorite anyway and could be read as a standalone if you so choose.

Dinner and Diatribes by The_Lord_of_Chaos is a fic entirely focused on the relationship between Danny and Maddie, or more specifically, Danny in the shape of Phantom. The pair wake up in a mansion belonging to Plasmius who is determined to play house. I adore this one because of the way in which Maddie and Danny's relationship develops! The first bit is kind of hard to get through if you aren't an angst fan since Maddie is, well, Maddie and has bad information about ghosts, but she gets past that and when the two start working together it's chef's kiss. It's only one chapter but 37k words so I'd still recommend giving it a shot!

And It All Went to Hell by Armed_With_Knitting_Needles is a reveal fic that goes iffy. It's part of a series but I personally prefer reading it as a stand alone given the series is unfinished. At 61k words and 14 chapters, we've got Lancer stuck in the middle of a Situation trying to mitigate the fact that Danny's parents are trying to "fix" him and Vlad is Plotting in the background. As he does. You're gonna want to hit the fruit loop with a broom by the end, mark my words. I won't spoil the ending, but I do promise that it's a happy one!

Internal Maintenance by Jelly1123 is a restricted fic so you'll need an account to read it, but I think it's worth it for those of you without accounts (but I personally think ao3 in general is worth it soooo). At 31k words and 14 chapters it focuses on Maddie ending up with a similar portal accident to Danny and becoming a halfa. This of course snowballs into a reveal, despite how much Maddie and Jack try to hide her new halfa status from the kids so as not to worry them.

A Gift of a Heart by Alexa_Piper is another halfa Maddie fic but with a lot more angst than Internal Maintenance. At 54k words and 19 chapters it starts with Maddie post getting shot in the heart at a robbery. Danny panics, gives his mom a new heart, and yoinks her to the ghost zone while she's healing. It's got some wonderful angst on Maddie's part and a satisfying ending!

The 'New' Research by Yapuwfou is an interesting reveal fic, since when the reveal happens Danny comes at his parents with actual research. At 31k words and 5 chapters it is very heavy on the lore and world building, so if you're a fan of that it's a wonderful read. Like there's so much ghost biology lore dropping without making said lore drop boring which in and of itself is a skill imo.

Blob Ghost Supreme by DragonsDomain is anothe restricted fic and for the most part it's crack. Crack treated seriously, but still crackish. Danny became a blob ghost after his accident and decides to win the tournament to become the ghost king so he'll stop getting teased for being a blob ghost. It's a no one knows au so we also get a reveal for Sam and Tucker while they're watching the tournament. I can't say that I expecting the reveal at the end, but I think it fit well to the plot. Mostly this fic is just 11k words and 4 chapters of an overpowered blob beating the every other powerful ghost's ass like a pair of bongos.

Afterlife Lessons by Fangirlwriting is a super good one if you're a fan the platonic friend trio. A know one knows au where keeping things secret is driving Danny insane, so Vlad decides to fix it in the most Vlad way possible. Which means turning Sam and Tucker into halfas. They of course go to the friendliest town ghost for lessons on how to be ghosts, Phantom. at 31k words and 15 chapters it's a super good one if you're a fan of friendship fluff and identity shenanigans.

Conduit by MaskedEmerald is a unique take on the Ghost Portal Danny AU. At 18k words and 15 chapters it focuses on the GIW fucking up and Valerie trying to rectify said fuck up. I personally really like the way the AU in question is presented within the plot of the fic, as well as the nature of the ending. We love some good ride or die friends and family.

Friends in Strange Places by Sunnys567 is a Bitter Reunions retelling that can be summed up as "Vlad Went To Therapy". It's actually a super long and satisfying read for starting as a retelling, clock 100k words and 11 chapters. This one really focuses on the concept of keeping the whole halfa thing a secret, alongside the pains and relationship strains that go with it.

Double Discovery by DP_Marvel94 is a 32k word or 10 chapter fics that focuses on Danny and Maddie after Danny and Phantom end up accidentally getting separated a la Fenton Ghost Catcher. Jazz and Jack aren't home so it's just focused on the two, with Danny trying to convince his mom that Phantom isn't bad. She eventually gets to the correct conclusion and we've got a happy ending, but boy, is it a ride getting there. My favorite part about this fic is the banter between Danny and Phantom.

Wake Me Up To Say Goodbye by ZombieRed (Zombie Lieutenant) is one of the more unique reveal fics I've read. Focused entirely on Danny and Jack, it's 23k words and 7 chapters of Jack fully misunderstanding what Danny's situation is but trying to be a good dad anyway. There's a lot of good angst and a satisfyingly happy ending. Plus the art goes incredibly fucking hard.

That is pretty much my creme de la creme of the recommendations. I didn't know if you wanted ships besides Danny/Sam so I tried to avoid them as much as I tried to avoid DC fics. I've still got a pretty long to read list so we'll see if I need to update this.

All i want in life is a nice, long, multichapter Danny Phantom fox that's not PP compliant, isn't a crossover, and doesn't have Danny x Sam. Is that too much to ask??

(this is me begging for fic recs, i'm desperate)

[the-cooler-king]

Also since its 9am in going to have a baby moment.... I don't feel lonely and I'm not like forlorn or sad but I really. Wish. I. Had. Friends.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

just read the new mutants issue where Charles chose to stay behind in space and my god the juxtaposition between Charles trusting Erik and Erik joining the hellfire club and wondering at his own trust worthiness. I wonder how much of Charles decision was him ultimately trying to avoid the fact that his first class had seemingly betrayed mutant kind and not be willing to face them and how much of it was Dani and Illyana's reaction to him having Karma mind control Illyana. the fact that Illyana was depending on him to ease her mind through limbo and in choosing to stay he forced karma to do it instead, probably fucking up their relationship in the process.

I love him, this is crazy, how much of this is him trying to runaway and how much is this him not trusting himself to fix things and how much is it just him trusting Erik?

i keep trying to put into words my exact thoughts about the sitch but there really is a lot for one issue aintit... oh charles you and your brain...

[street-corner-felines]

Zero Day (2002)

[starrycrown]

Thinya knew that the King would always be a priority, she understood it clearly. She had no other choice than to respect and submit to that rule. "I know..." She whispered before hearing Charles telling her that his wife would come first. There was still this shadow surrounding her when it came to her child, a slight hint of worry with the King wishing to be the Godfather of that child. This could potentially mean he could have authority on the child, which now made Thinya anxious.

Once in the room, Thinya took a deep breath and heard Charles' words. With a soft smile, the woman shook her head. "It is the way us women are expected to wear that, my love. Pregnant or not." She chuckled lightly and finally breathed deeply. She heard his words about attending the dinner and nodded. "I understand, do not worry about me. I will just have dinner here and rest." She smiled briefly as she felt him kissing her lips. She rested her forehead against his for a few seconds before slowly moving away and walking by the fireplace to warm herself.

"The king might always need me, but if my wife needs me she comes first." While of course that wasn't entirely true since the king called the shots, he was quite sure that he could arrange for them spending some time in the country. Thinya being with child was important and certainly because it was their first. She would be expected to take it easy.

As they entered the room and Thinya's made unlaced the corset, Charles frowned. "Sweetheart, you shouldn't let them lace you up that tight." He murmured and then sighed. "I should make an appearance to dinner, tell them that you're not feeling well. I won't be long, I promise." Charles cupped Thinya's cheek and placed a kiss on her lips.

[insta-mental-bility]

Yk what hurts more than anything?

Helping your friends make it through something that destroyed you.

Watching them make it out of a battle you fought on your own- unscathed

Because of you

Because you know too much

but you look at it

And it took 10 minutes

it would’ve taken anyone.

Ten fucking minutes

to save you.

But no one did.

No one came to YOUR rescue

You care about them enough to do it without a seconds hesitation

Even if it cost you everything you’d help them

But nobody was willing to help you.

That.

That is painful. On a different level

[metamercury]

I'm so excited for this next fic, and i want to post it right now this very second so i can force my 3 readers to read it. But I need to finish typing up the 2nd edit first -- it's not done

but man. imagine if it were done? I really feel like i outdid myself with the analogy this time. Or will have. Once it's done. It's not done.

[quietwingsinthesky]

“It’s like you kicked a big hole in the side of my life.” things even would say if they met the doctor After-

[grasslandgirl]

this is good this is good im listening to we’ll never have sex at 11:30 pm. this is good this is a good sign about my mental health and how i feel about my ability to make and maintain relationships. yeah. this is great. 

[alphalesbian]

When I think of the ways people have hurt me - the ways people have gone out of their way to hurt me, the ways people have changed themselves to become hurtful to me, the ways people know my hurt and hurt me right there - I can only see now, how I will not hurt back the same.

[bookwormcosplays]

Okay just watched the X 2022 horror movie and I will continue the rest in the film series, but I have some questions. As soon as I saw the old man walk, I was pretty sure he wasn't actually old. Looked up 66 current day. Which is older, but that's not the age range they're going for if the makeup means anything. But I let it pass. Then I did the same thing with the old woman actress. Saw the makeup, looked it up, 30 years old current day. And yes, I get why, parallels and all that. Maxine played old woman Pearl. I get it. But why not get actual proper old people casted? You can't tell me that they couldn't possibly find any elders who wouldn't want to be a part of a bigger budget film. Just where I've lived older people are excited to take any role because there aren't many roles compared to young/middle age adults and teenagers. The movie emphasized how older bodies aren't considered attractive and they emphasized that by dressing younger people in prosthetics??? Were the sex/nudity scenes supposed to be better because it's not an actual old person? I don't get the choice. The actress for Pearl could still play her in the prequel and still be the same actress for Maxine. It would just have a different older woman casted. It wouldn't have ruined the movie and you can't tell just by looking at the old woman that's the same actress. It's just such an odd choice. If I ever go to a convention and the director is present, I need to ask him this question because it's bothering me. I want a real answer not the screen rant answer. Because I get it technically, but also what would it have really hurt if it was a different casting?