#this got long I hope the read more thing works

[yurunivo]

Hello! I really love you self aware idea! Can you please make another part? This time Can you focuse more on Mavuika and the Creator!Reader (Gender Neutral),please? (Also om how the other archons and Neuvillete would be trying to search for the reader and maybe using other organizations to help the search) if not please feel free to ignore this. Have a wonderful day!

This is my first time getting a request! Hope you enjoy!

Synopsis: hanging out with Mavuika! (And the other nations' planning to reach you) part 1

TW: Mavuika and reader's relationship is implied romantic but can be read as platonic, OOC, yandere, SAGAU imposter au, bad writing, bad grammar, english is not my first language, not beta read

Characters: Mavuika x gn!creator!reader (again can be seen as romantic or platonic), yandere Archons + Neuvillette x reader

Cleaning at bars was a tedious job. It was easy, sure, but it got boring at times. Customers always made the day fun with their gossip, so you leaned into that. It could've been something simple, like how their boyfriend cheated on them, but it was still more entertaining than mopping the floor.

However, there was always one customer every night that you were looking forward to meeting.

Always clad in a mysterious cloak that made them look like a runaway, blazing bright eyes and red hair.

It was Mavuika.

She came a bit later than usual. You decided not to worry, Archon duties are a lot after all. Yet, she came anyway, dressed the same as before. The cloak was a bit messily put on, so her hair was still visible. You sighed as you left the place you were cleaning and went up in front of her.

"You didn't have to come y'know," you fixed her cloak to hide her hair, yet she only smiled at you.

"I insist," she only replied back. You rubbed your temples at the stubborn woman. Seriously, shouldn't she be busy with work or something?

She seemed to be eager to tell you something, considering how she was holding your hand. You raised an eyebrow at her as you gestured her to speak.

"Well, want to combat practice with me later, (fake name)?" Oh no. You didn't know how to fight! Sure, you did fight against the abyss, but you barely managed to survive!

But you only nodded. Declining now would only make her suspicious, even though the fact that you were being chased around without fighting back was suspicious enough. But, you'll find out a reason later, for now, all you had to do was agree.

"Sure, but only at my day off. Maybe the day after tomorrow?" You were trying to find a lie to tell her then, but for now, you hid your feelings with a smile. She nodded, looking content with your answer.

"The day after tomorrow it is."

Your hands were uncomfortably sweaty.

The day after tomorrow being right now, you had to tell Mavuika as quick as you could to not gain suspicion. Telling her you got isekai'd from another world was obviously not an option, but you had already prepared something in your head. It was similar to the isekai idea, but it's much more believable. The execution was the only problem.

You were at the outskirts of the Scions of Canopy, where Kinich lived. She came 5 minutes later and greeted you with much courtesy.

"Hope I didn't make you wait for long (fake name)," she told with a bit embarrassment. You shrugged her off.

"It's fine Mavuika, and you can just call me (name)," you replied back. You mustered up the courage to tell her your reason not to fight. But before that, you had to ask her just this one thing.

"How did you know that I was the creator? I don't think there was any part of me that stood out," you were interested to know, after all you thought that you hid yourself very well.

She all but smiled as she pointed out the grass behind you.

"The creator is connected to Teyvat, so everything would bloom in their wake. Since you were in the nation of Pyro, where I'll know everything that's going on, it was quite easy to find out." You looked behind to see beautiful flowers right behind you. You were shocked to see this many flowers in one trail. Wait, then why did the other Archons not realize that you were the creator? Eh that doesn't really matter, what matters was that you were here with Mavuika, safe and sound. But, you took this revelation to gift her something.

You took a flower from the trail. Mavuika was interested to see what you were doing, but you hid it from her. Using the flowers and leaves, you created a flower crown for her and put it a top her head. You smiled, she did too.

"Thank you (name)," she laughed softly. But now you had to explain the fighting part. You sighed as you contemplated.

"Err, Mavuika, I actually don't know how to fight.." You mumbled and cursed your self for it. She looked surprised.

"Why not?" She asked again. You felt embarrassed for having to say the reason. You took a deep breath and prepares to say why.

"I'm.. Not the creator. Like the original one. I'm a reincarnation of them, I have no idea how to fight not do I know anything about the past," you breathed out, cringing at what you just said. However all she did was look at you with understanding, after all, she knows the pain of reincarnation.

"It's fine! But do you know anything about the previous creator then?" She asked curiously, to which you shook your head. She hummed. She got an idea to improvise, it seems like.

"How about I teach you then?" Huh?! This wasn't going as planned! You didn't want to fight at all.

"T-that's not needed, I'll j-just waste your time," you tried convincing her, but she didn't budge. Eventually though, you reluctantly agreed. She smiled and thanked you for allowing her to help.

"Just try to imagine yourself using Pyro abilities, you'll get the hang of it later." You were really trying. The amount of stress that you had to not burn yourself to death was enough to actually kill you. Still, you trusted Mavuika and her abilities, so you tried anyway. You tried and tried and tried, but nothing really came. You were visibly disappointed, but Mavuika tried to encourage you.

"How about this, you imagine something you don't like, and try to use your emotions to drag your Pyro ability out," she suggested. You seemed to find this useful, so you tried it.

Closing your eyes, you thought of something terrible happening, and instead of seeing the imposter hunt that you very despised, you instead saw Mavuika.

You were being hunted down, sure, but what was most important was that she was getting punished by the Archons for not giving up the imposter. Her face was battered and bruised, and she was slowly slipping into unconsciousness. You watched in horror, and tears started to well up in your eyes. This couldn't be! Unfortunately, you were crying in real life too, and Mavuika realized immediately.

"Okay, uhh, you don't need to think about it now," she tried comforting you, bringing you in an embrace to calm you down. Once you came back to reality, your eyes were puffy, and your face was red.

"... Sorry, can we do this another time?" You sniffled, still holding her. She was warm, and you found your self drifting to sleep. She sighed as she picked you up.

"Of course, just don't overdo anything, kay?" She smiled warmly, brushing the tears from your eyes. She wrapped you in a cloak, getting ready to start camp.

Neuvillette contorted his face in disgust. The waters tasted disgustingly sweet. The creator's happiness with another person, likely an Archon. But the waters then tasted bitter, from the creator's sadness.

If only he could just drag you out of that place and keep you for himself, but no. He'll need the help of the other nations to do so, so he sucked it up and left the Palais Mermonia. He visited Furina, just checking in on her before leaving. He'd leave some of the work for Clorinde to do, he trusted her enough to do that anyway.

Reaching the imposter's throne room, there was a long sitting area where the rulers of the nations were there. Only the Cryo, Pyro and Anemo Archons weren't there, but the acting grandmaster came for Anemo, and the director of the Fatui Harbingers came for Cryo. The Geo Archon returned to his status as the God of Contracts, and the Electro and Dendro archon were sitting in their own seats. The imposter was on the creator's throne. They were dead, blood seeping out of their head. Their expression was one of shock, as he could vividly remember the day the Geo Archon killed the imposter.

A seat was vacant. He clenched his teeth at the mere thought of the Pyro Archon. He'd get you back from her, no matter what it took.

"We all know that the creator is in the nation of war, Natlan. However, since the neither of us know its weaknesses besides the Pyro Archon being a human, we need to create a plan to ambush the nation," Jean spoke up. Everyone in the room nodded along with her, too obsessed to notice their wrong doings. However, there was one who objected to this clause.

Nahida raised her hand to interrupt Jean, turning all eyes on her.

"You all chased down the creator like a rabid dog, and now you're trying to kidnap them to do a job that they don't want? What kind of leaders are you? The creator was in Natlan for a few months by now, and since they're not leaving, they are probably enjoying a better life there than your own selfish desires," she objected.

Neuvillette all but admired the young Archon. Despite being small and weaker than the others, she still had the bravery to stand against everyone. However, this was one thing that he didn't agree with. He just stayed quiet though, waiting for someone to object the small Archon.

Raiden did. The God of Eternity looked at Nahida with disdain, preparing to answer the deity.

"And how are you so sure that the creator is having a better life in Natlan Buer? For all we could know, they could actually be running around the vast nation. And, you are one of the younger Archons after all, what use does your words have?" She asked coldly. When she was about to respond back, she got interrupted.

"It is settled, we shall find the creator in Natlan, no questions," the God of Contracts added in. Nahida couldn't speak now. After all, what power does she have to a much more experienced God?

Neuvillete glared at the Archons.

"Whoever shall get the creator first will be the one to solely have the creator in their nation," Neuvillete furrowed his brows at the Archons. They did the same, but still agreed to the conditions, not really thinking of what you want.

Now, all the leaders were going back to their nation, telling their line of military to get prepared. They had to have you all for yourself, and they will do anything for it.

Done! Hope you enjoy!

[pandapetals]

Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy

cowboy logan howlett x afab!reader - cowboy logan, reader's car broke down, cute, fluff, teasing, sexual tension, no y/n used, no reader description

Your car broke down in the middle of nowhere. Lucky for you a cowboy came to the rescue.

read on Ao3

A truck flew by, kicking up a cloud of dirt from the dusty road that swirled around you. You groaned in frustration, covering your eyes with your arm as you cursed your luck. It had already been an hour since your car broke down in the middle of nowhere, and the tow truck was nowhere in sight. Your phone barely had a signal, and the heat of the late afternoon sun was starting to press down on you, making everything worse.

You leaned against the side of your car, fanning yourself with your hand and wondering how long you’d have to wait out here when you heard the distinct sound of hooves—slow, steady, coming closer.

Frowning, you turned your head toward the sound, and your breath caught in your throat when you saw him.

A man—tall, broad-shouldered, and riding a horse like he owned the whole damn desert—was coming your way. He wore a weathered Stetson hat, shielding his eyes from the sun, and his muscular frame was clad in a simple white t-shirt and faded jeans, the fabric stretched taut over his biceps. Dust kicked up behind him as he approached, and for a second, you wondered if this was some kind of mirage.

He pulled the reins, the horse slowing to a stop beside your car. You couldn’t help but stare as he swung his leg over the saddle and dismounted, his boots hitting the ground with a quiet thud. Up close, he was even more rugged than you’d imagined—unkempt stubble lining his jaw, sharp eyes glinting from under the brim of his hat, and a rough edge to his presence that made your heart beat just a little faster.

“Car trouble?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly, like he didn’t talk much but when he did, people listened.

You nodded, trying to find your voice as you glanced between him and your broken-down car. “Yeah. It just... stopped. I’ve been waiting for a tow truck, but...” You trailed off, gesturing to the empty, sun-scorched road.

The cowboy gave a slow nod, his eyes flicking over your car, then back to you. “Tow truck ain’t comin’ out here anytime soon. You’re lucky I came along.”

There was a confidence in his voice, a rough kind of assurance that made your pulse quicken. He wasn’t wrong. The road was empty as far as the eye could see, and the only other company you’d had in the last hour was the tumbleweed and dust swirling through the air.

“Well,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, “I’m definitely glad someone came along.”

He tipped his hat back, giving you a better view of his face—strong jawline, slightly weathered from the sun, and those sharp, intense eyes that seemed to look right through you. You shifted under his gaze, suddenly aware of how close he was standing.

“I’m Logan,” he said, holding out a hand.

Your name got caught in your throat before finally spitting it out, shaking his hand, and feeling the roughness of his palm against yours. The touch lingered for just a moment longer than necessary, the heat from his skin seeping into yours before he let go.

Logan crouched down to take a look under the hood, and you couldn’t help but admire the way his muscles moved under that worn t-shirt. His broad back flexed as he peered into the engine, his hat casting a shadow over his face. You stood there, arms crossed, trying to play it cool, but it was hard not to notice just how damn attractive he was—rough, rugged, the kind of guy you didn’t expect to find out in the middle of nowhere.

After a moment, Logan stood up, wiping his hands on his jeans as he turned to face you, his expression unreadable. “Alternator’s shot. Ain’t gonna get this thing moving without some work.”

Your stomach sank. “Great. And here I was hoping it’d be something simple.”

Logan smirked, just a little, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “Nothin’s ever simple out here.”

You couldn’t help but smile back, even though the situation wasn’t exactly ideal. There was something about the way he looked at you—sharp, assessing, but not unfriendly—that made your heart beat a little faster. The air between you felt charged like there was more happening than just a conversation about a broken car.

“So,” you asked, raising an eyebrow, “what’s your suggestion, cowboy?”

Logan’s eyes flicked to you, his smirk deepening. “Well, unless you want to wait another couple of hours for that tow truck—if it even shows up—I could give you a ride.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the way he said it, slow and deliberate, like there was a second meaning to his words. The way he was looking at you, his gaze heavy and unreadable, sent a ripple of heat through your body.

“A ride?” you echoed, glancing over at his horse, the only mode of transportation around for miles.

Logan’s lips twitched like he could see where your mind had gone. “Yeah. A ride.”

You hesitated for a second, your eyes trailing over him—the way his shirt clung to his chest, the glint of his belt buckle, the confident set of his shoulders. This man was a stranger, sure, but something about the way he looked at you, the quiet intensity in his voice, made you feel like you could trust him.

Besides, it wasn’t like you had many options.

“Alright,” you said, crossing your arms and giving him a small, teasing smile. “I guess I’ll take you up on that offer.”

Logan’s smirk widened just a little, a flicker of something darker flashing in his eyes. He led his horse closer, holding the reins with one hand as he turned back to you. “Climb on. I’ll help you up.”

You approached cautiously, suddenly very aware of the heat between you as Logan stepped closer, placing one large, rough hand on your waist. His touch was firm but gentle, and when he lifted you onto the saddle, your body brushed against his—just for a second, but long enough to send a jolt of electricity through you.

Logan swung up behind you with ease, his body pressing against your back, and you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from reacting to the feel of him so close. His arm reached around you to take the reins, and you felt the heat radiating from him, his breath warm against your neck as he leaned in just slightly.

“You alright?” he asked, his voice low and rough in your ear.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak as your heart pounded in your chest. The tension between you was almost unbearable, thick enough to cut with a knife. You could feel every inch of him behind you—the strength of his chest, the solid weight of his body—and it was doing things to you that you weren’t ready to admit.

Logan clicked his tongue, and the horse started forward, slow and steady. The ride was quiet, but the silence only seemed to amplify the heat between you. Every now and then, Logan’s arm would brush against yours, and each time, it sent a shiver down your spine.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of trying to ignore the tension simmering between you, Logan spoke, his voice a low rumble. “You gonna tell me why you were out here all alone?”

You swallowed, glancing over your shoulder at him, your pulse quickening again as his eyes met yours—sharp, intense, and filled with something that made your stomach flutter.

“Does it matter?” you replied, your voice softer than you intended.

Logan’s lips twitched into that familiar smirk. “Maybe not. Just seems like trouble finds you easy.”

You raised an eyebrow, unable to stop the smile that crept onto your lips. “And what about you? Seems like you found me just fine.”

Logan chuckled, his hand tightening on the reins just slightly, his body pressing a little closer to yours. “Maybe I like trouble.”

You shivered at the way he said it, your breath catching in your throat as the tension between you grew thicker and heavier. You weren’t sure how much longer you could ignore the pull between you—the heat, the electricity, the way your body seemed to respond to every small movement of his.

Logan’s breath was warm against your ear as he leaned in, his voice low and husky. “Tell me, darlin’... you enjoyin’ the ride?”

Your heart skipped a beat, the double meaning of his words hitting you hard. You turned your head just slightly, your eyes meeting his, and at that moment, the air between you crackled with something undeniable.

“Yeah,” you whispered, your voice breathy. “I am.”

Logan’s smirk deepened, his eyes darkening with something that made your pulse race. “Good.”

With that, he clicked his tongue again, and the horse picked up speed, the world around you blurring as the tension between you reached its breaking point. The ride might have been over soon, but something told you this was just the beginning.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just One Reason: A Wonderful Winter Time

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

masterlist - to be added

Summary: A chance encounter at the sandwich shop doesn’t end how you expect.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

'❄️IT'S SNOWING!❄️' 

You hit send and put the phone down. You glance through the window on the other side of your desk and smile. You have it all set up so your heavy laptop doesn't block out the scenery, though it's just the alleyway.

The suite in the building across from yours usually has a rich array of flowers on the summer. And the sun hits nicely at a certain time of day and almost illuminates the brick. 

The whole desk buzzes and you read the response. Lloyd almost makes you laugh with only a '😿'. He used to tease you for all your emojis but now you find yourself trying to decipher his use of them. Sometimes he doesn't make much sense. He is a funny guy. 

You pick up your phone and take a picture out the window of how the powder starts to pile on the railing across from you. You hit send and add a follow-up, 'so prettttty.' 

You smile as you peer out again. Another swell of nostalgia floods through you then rolls over to a sense of longing. Your dad would love it. He'd be trying to goad you into sledding, even though he always lost control of his toboggan.  

Your phone shakes violently in your hand. This time, it doesn't stop. You answer Lloyd's call, "uh, hi?" 

"Whatcha doin'?" 

"Uhhhhh," you lean your elbow on the desk, "just finished some work. Was going to put the kettle on--" 

"Forget the kettle. I'm outside." 

"Outside? Lloyd." 

"I know, tootsie, you're a creature of habit but I'm a man without rules," he snickers. 

"I didn't even know you were back," you say. 

"Wow, some welcome, huh?" He scoffs. "Thought you'd be happy to see me." 

"I am," you argue shrilly. "Alright, let me just get my stuff. It might take me a few." 

"Sure thing, candy girl," he says, "I'll keep the seat warm. Crank this thing up to ten." 

"Right, bye," you hang up and stand with a sigh. 

You're happy to have a friend but Lloyd can be a bit... demanding. He's a bit oblivious too. He doesn't always ask, he just kind of does. You're much the opposite but you suppose it makes it more interesting.  

You grab some socks before you tuck your feet into your boots. You stand and grab your jacket. You lost a button and replaced it with a close dupe. Still, it stands out. 

You shove your phone in your purse and pause. Your forgetting something. You scurry back to grab the bundle on the armrest then pluck up your keys. You hurry out and barrell down the stares. He may have caught you offguard but you always hate to keep anyone waiting. 

You kick up snow as you near his car and the doors unlock loudly. You sit with your feet outside and shake off the snow. You pull your legs in and shut the door with a brr. 

"I thought you liked this sh--stuff," he snorts. 

"I do!" You hold out the bundle, "welcome back, Lolly." 

He smirks and curiously eyes the sewn pouch. He takes it and chuckles at the nickname. One autocorrect mixup and it just sort of stuck. 

"Remember, you can't call me that around others. I got an aura to maintain," he says as he loosens the string and looks inside. He tugs out the wolly mitt with its black and grey ombre. He narrows his eyes and slips the other free. He examines them, feeling the stitching. 

"You don't have mitts so I made some," you say, "just in time too!" 

He looks at you then back at the wool, "you made them?" 

"Yeah, like mine," you bounce excitedly, "you like them. I hope the colour's okay. I didn't have black but I found that on discount." 

"They're... nice," he says. 

"Please, try them. See if they fit. I had to guess and my hands are tiny." 

"Uh, yeah," he flinches and looks down again. He shoves his hand into one and raises it, stretching is fingers inside, "perfect. Warm." 

"Awesome," you smile proudly. "But uh, you know... if you don't like them. I know they're not really your style. Oh, maybe I could sew in a Gucci tag--"  

"Stop," he slips it off and puts them back in the bag, "I love em, okay?" 

He leans over and pulls open the glove box. He puts them inside, his shoulder against you, and snaps it shut. 

"Make sure I don't lose them," he sits back and rests his hand on your seat, "so, anyway, you're not gonna make me feel like a chump so easy. You're not the only one with a surprise." 

"Please, I'm not dressed for that bar," you protest.  

"Ha, no, don't worry, you'll be fine," he assures you. 

"Can I have a hint?" You ask as he pulls away from the curb.  

"Nope," he makes the P pop. 

"Hmm, alright. I'll be patient." 

"Just sit pretty, tootsie roll," he steers down the snowy street cautiously. "Wanna turn on some of that girly trash you listen to?" 

You roll your eyes and tap the touchscreen of the stereo. You search for the 00s station and hit play. An Xtina classic comes on and you turn it up. 

"Oh, I love this one," you wiggle in your seat. 

"Really?" He remarks, "wouldn't think..." 

You sit back and tap your foot to the rhythm. You watch the snowflakes drift and peer up into the deepening blue evening. It's so pretty. You're just happy not to be alone. 

You look over as the tires crunch to a stop at the light. At least he has the sense not to drive like a maniac in this weather. As you glance at him, his lips curve around the lyrics of the song silently. You chuckle softly and turn back to the window. You knew he liked your music. 

[septimusmoonlight]

You doing ok?

hi

[jolluxstrait]

MIX 1

Paring: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings/tags: fluff, reader has hair but no other physical descriptions, mutual pining?, can be read as whatever gender desired, no use of y/n

a/n: first fic iv written in several years, feels good to write again. Based off of a prompt, see below. enjoy!!

[They're stuck on a road trip, and she's singing her heart out, while he pretends to hate it, but when she falls asleep, he quietly turns her playlist back on]

—

When Charles Xavier called you and Logan into his office, you had no idea what would come of it. He proceeded to explain that there was a special mission for just the two of you; going up into southern Canada to scout a possible Brotherhood hideout. When Charles offered the Blackbird to you both to use for said mission, you lept at the idea. However, Logan was quick to dismiss it.

“Yeah, no, not happening. The last time I was in that death trap Scott damn near got us all killed.”

You shoot him an annoyed glare, despite knowing that he's right. Scott Summers is good at many things, but piloting that jet is not one of them.

“Yeah, but Scott won't be flying it so there's nothing to worry about!”

You chime in, sounding hopeful that this will somehow convince Logan. In all truth, you don't want to spend any more time with the brooding man than you absolutely have to. The trip in the Blackbird would take around five hours in total. Five hours is not ideal, but doable. 

“I don't care, I'm not getting back into that thing. I'll drive us.”

His voice is stern and serious as he speaks, his tone making it clear that he's not backing down. You let out a huff of annoyance at his stubborn attitude, internally grumbling to yourself over spending the next ten hours in Logan's old beat up truck.  It's not that you didn't like Logan, quite the opposite, actually. But you knew, deep down, that the two of you would never work out. He was too much of a loner to ever even consider letting someone get close enough to love him and you didn't think that you could handle the rejection from him anyway. So you buried your feelings away in the farthest corner of your mind and committed yourself to just being friends with the grumpy man.

—

The two of you have been on the road for the past three hours. It's been a long and painfully quiet trip so far, the only saving grace being the soft sounds of the radio, humming quiet country tunes that float around the cab of the truck. It's the reason you're still sane, honestly. You stare out the window, head resting in your hand as your elbow is propped up on the side of the door. The scenery has been nothing but tall trees and empty roads since crossing over the Canadian border. 

Logan taps his fingers gently against the steering wheel to the rhythm of the song that's currently playing. The sound is an ever present reminder of the silence between you two. To your surprise, Logan is the first to break the ice. 

“You're not fallin’ asleep over there, are ya?”

His voice is gruff as he speaks, a hint of curiosity in it. He continues to keep most of his attention on the road, only glancing over when you respond. 

“No, just watching the trees go by..”

Logan nods his head at your answer, knowing he would be doing the same thing if he wasn't driving. 

“You can change the station if ya want.”

You perk up at his offer. It's not that you didn't like country music, more that it wasn't your favorite. And honestly, after the last three hours, you were kind of tired of it. You take him up on his offer, shifting your gaze from the tree-filled scenery to the truck's radio, clicking through the stations, pausing on a few only to change it a couple minutes later. 

“There's nothing good on right now.. do you mind if we listen to a CD? I figured I'd bring some since you insisted on driving.” 

Despite your genuine question, your tone was a bit pointed, still slightly annoyed at him for wanting to drive instead of fly.

“Sure darlin, whatever ya want.”

Logan gives you a simple shrug, gesturing to the CD player. Even though he was acting very nonchalant about it, he was genuinely curious about what you liked to listen to. He was also hoping that the change in music would give him a much needed distraction to how focused he was on you in the passenger seat. Every rise and fall of your chest as you breathe, every subtle movement of your body as you shift to get comfortable, the way your scent lingers in the air like smog as it completely takes over the original smell of cigars and leather that usually permeates the cab. It was incredibly distracting and he found himself stealing glances at you every couple minutes. 

You rustle through your bag for a moment, soon pulling a small CD case from it, taking a few moments to flip through the thin plastic sleeves until finally settling on a plain gray CD with the words “MIX 1” written on the top in black ink. With a smile, you pop the CD into the truck's CD player. A couple seconds of silence falls over the inside of the cab before an upbeat punk rock song rings out through the speakers. Logan doesn't try to hide his surprise, looking at you with wide eyes and a raised eyebrow. 

“This really the type of music you like?” 

“Yeah, what's wrong with it?”

You glance over at Logan, narrowing your eyes at him. Of course he wouldn't be into the same music as you. All this time on this round, dirt filled planet and he never bothered to broaden his music taste, only sticking to what he knew, what was familiar.

“It's damn noisy is what's wrong with it.”

It's a simple and straightforward answer, exactly what you would expect out of him. He wrinkles his nose as the next song plays, another similar sounding tune from the same genre.

“Yeah well, you said I could listen to whatever I wanted, so you're stuck with it.”  

You roll your eyes at him as you start singing along to the second song. You run through the whole CD, getting more into the music with each passing song. Logan, despite keeping up his annoyed facade at your singing and choice of music, is absolutely enamored with you. He steals glances at you every so often, watching as you smile while you get lost in the music, his heart rate increasing at the sight. He takes in every moment of you like this, carefree and having fun, committing it to memory.

Logan knows he shouldn't feel this way about you. He shouldn't want to spend time with you as often as he does, shouldn't want to reach out and grab your hand or brush a stray strand of hair from your face, or find any excuse to touch you. Yet, the urge to do so is ever present. He knows that there's no way that you can feel the same way for him that he does about you. He's not sure if he could even bring himself to let you in, not wanting to taint you with the darkness and trauma he keeps bottled up inside. So he pretends to be indifferent towards you, to always keep you at an arm's length away for your own safety. He subtly shakes his head, pushing his meandering thoughts to the back of his mind as he forces himself to focus on the road. You let out a soft sigh as the CD pops halfway out of the player, signifying that it has reached the end. Logan doesn't move to push it back into the player, keeping his gaze on the road ahead of him. You take that as a sign that he's had enough. 

“Alright.” You say, settling back against the leather passenger seat. “It's your turn to pick the music.”

Logan glances down at the radio, reaching up without a word to click the button a few times as he searches through the stations. Finally, he settles back on the old country station. You let out a soft chuckle, not at all surprised that this is what he decided. After about thirty minutes of the quiet music, Logan sneaks himself a glance at you, raising his eyebrows when he sees you asleep in the seat next to him. A small smile tugs on the corners of his lips at the sight of your gentle breathing. He can't help but notice how calm and peaceful you look in this moment, a stark difference from earlier when you were singing your heart out to your music.

Without thinking, he reaches his hand over to push a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He pauses as his fingers are mere inches from the strand, hesitating for a moment before finally giving in and gently moving it out of the way of your face. His touch is featherlite, making sure not to disturb you in any way. Logan takes one more good look at you before turning his attention back to the road. As the radio station starts to fizzle out of range, he brings his hand up to change it, noticing your CD still sticking out of the player. With a soft push, he watches as the CD slides back into the slot, the same upbeat punk rock song playing moments later. He turns down the volume a bit so as not to wake you, tapping his fingers to the rhythm of each song on the steering wheel as he lets the CD play. It's still noisy, but knowing that you like it, and the images from you singing your heart out to it earlier are making Logan see the genre in a whole new light. 

[waywardchaos3]

Satoru Gojo Kiss Prompt: Back From The Dead

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

Prompt(s): “You came back./…” “I promised, didn't I?” + Returned From The Dead Kiss

Rating: Angst with some Fluff

Warning(s): This story contains some manga spoilers, but since I have not read the JJK manga or seen s2 at the moment, it's not totally accurate... I just hope you all enjoy it as this story isn't super specific to the prompts but it's the same idea, yeah?

WC: 1,926

Main Masterlist

A/N - This is yet another story of mine that was inspired by a fic written by another amazing writer here on Tumblr! It was inspired by this fic by the amazing @just-jordie-things!

*I will definitely have to make another story like this that is more based on the events of the manga and the anime when I get the chance too, so stay tuned for that!*

It had been weeks since your long-time boyfriend, Satoru Gojo, had been sealed in that damn box.

The world around you fell into chaos in a matter of minutes since word had got out that the great Satoru Gojo was in the prison realm.

Curses and Curse users seemed to crawl out of the shadows and the depths of hell itself to celebrate his removal from this plane.

Every day there's a new challenge just to keep up with exorcising all of the curses that came out of hiding.

There aren't many jujutsu sorcerers left...

So many have decided to or were forced to retire...

So many have died...

With that being said, there are only a few of you left who can fight this fight.

You included, even though you'd instead go straight after Geto for doing this to Satoru and putting you and so many others through this.

Not only do you have to deal with your desire to go after Geto and fight against curse users and powerful cursed spirits, but you also have to deal with the weight of fear you're carrying, not knowing of his well-being.

Is he even still alive in there?

You hope so...

You've also wondered if he's okay or if he's hurt so many at this point...

You know that time works differently in the prison realm, but that's all you know about it.

The box was supposed to be a rare object, but Suguru Geto had somehow found it and used it with such ease to seal Gojo inside.

Will he ever return?

You don't know for sure, but you hope that if you and the others can get your hands on the box and find a way to unseal him, your hope would be restored.

Thinking about Satoru and Geto being the one who had sealed him away as much as you have been ever since he was sealed into the box causes your mind to be occupied with anxiety for you to patrol the area you were asked to properly.

Your teeth grit together roughly as the thought of Geto being the one behind Satoru being sealed away in that box, your eyes currently focused on a rather rowdy group of teenagers messing around on the other side of the street near an alleyway, distracted.

Your feelings about Geto, who had once been a very close friend of yours, have always complicated, especially after he had reportedly killed his family and went on to slaughter hundreds of non-sorcerers...

You've struggled so much with the way you miss him, too.

No matter what he seems to do or what heinous acts he commits, some nights, you still cry yourself to sleep because you wish that things could go back to the way they were.

On most of those nights, Satoru sat awake with you, comforting you as you wept and reminisced about the good old days when you, Satoru, Shoko, and Geto were friends and would hang out and also go on missions together.

Satoru had spent hours combing his fingers through your hair, cooing softly about how he missed those days, too.

And now that you're here, Satoru is sealed away, and Geto is to blame; it's as though all of your feelings have become crystal clear.

You HATE Suguru Geto!

You hate who he's become.

You hate that he let himself take such a dark path.

You hate that he betrayed you, Satoru, Shoko, and jujutsu sorcerers everywhere.

Right now, though, you mostly hate him for what he did to Satoru.

When it comes to Satoru, though... you love Satoru Gojo.

You had known him since the two of you were very young children. You became close friends with him, which stayed that way until you got into high school when he asked you to be his girlfriend.

You had been dating ever since.

And even with Satoru sealed away, you love everything about him.

Not sensing any cursed spirits or cursed energy in general, you huff, deeming the area safe for now before starting your trek back to the apartment.

Walking home, you think about how long you've tried to remain positive.

For your students.

For the other sorcerers.

Being the closest to Satoru, you know that you have to put on a brave face and ensure everyone that hope is not entirely lost, that at the end of the day, everything will be okay, and good will triumph because that's how it's supposed to be.

You are feeling hopeless, though, and you've been carrying those feelings since that day in Shibuya when Itadori told you that Satoru had been sealed away.

You remember every second of your short interaction with him that day.

His wide eyes, his shaky voice, the way he had asked you what that meant, and then the look he had given you as he looked to you for guidance on how to help with the situation.

In response, you had sent him off rather quickly to help at the bus station, but truthfully, you just needed him gone so he couldn't see your entire foundation crumbling.

And then came the deaths of your friends... your students... and people you had fought alongside your whole life...; they all began piling up, and you couldn't help but feel hopeless...

What else was there to feel, though?

The man whose mere existence was supposed to put all of this at ease was gone, and now, with how long he's been sealed away, you're starting to think he'll never come back.

Cold raindrops hit your face just as you reach your apartment building.

You consider yourself lucky to have made it to your apartment building before the storm started, but the weight of your anguish squashes such positive emotion.

It's only a matter of time before you're killed too, you think bitterly, more irritated by the notion than afraid.

You know that you're getting reckless, as many of the others who are still fighting the fight have told you.

You're running on little to no sleep... Barely eating anything, which means your energy is always low.

In fact, the last few curses you'd had to exorcize were low enough in grade that you considered yourself lucky, but you knew that if you were to run into a grade one- or a special grade- you'd be lucky if your death is quick and painless.

"What am I going to do?" you mutter to no one and nothing in particular as you dig in your pocket for your keys, ready to enter the building and just go to bed and sleep—or at least try to.

As you're about to enter the building, you realize that the rain seems to have stopped, as you no longer feel the chilly wet drops hitting your skin.

'I could've sworn that the skies were overcast just a minute ago,' you ponder before tilting your head back to look up at the night sky.

Sure enough, the stars aren't visible, and the sprinkle had turned into a full-on downpour.

Even though you're now paying attention to the storm, hearing the distant rumbles of thunder, curiously, you remain dry.

You're not under an awning, and you don't have an umbrella, so you're not sure what's causing this phenomenon.

Your brows furrow in confusion as you stretch your hand out in front of you, reaching as far as you can, and to your surprise, you remain dry.

"What the hell?" you mumble as you look down at the pavement around you.

You can see a clear line before you, where the raindrops are pelting the pavement just in front of your feet.

You've seen and witnessed many weird things in your life as a jujutsu sorcerer, but this has to be the most peculiar thing you have ever seen.

You do a slow 360° turn, and just as you thought, the pavement underneath you is dry.

That's when you notice something strange when you turn away from your apartment building's door.

The dry patch of pavement stretches out another ten or so feet and clings around another figure.

As you look up at the figure, the air gets knocked out of your lungs as you see the familiar head of white hair, causing you to sputter for a second as tears sting your eyes.

"Satoru." you whimper out before running towards him at full speed.

As you reach him, you crash into him, clearly knocking the air out of him.

After stumbling back a few steps from the impact, his strong arms wrap around you, and he's holding you tightly against his chest.

"Oh my god... Satoru..." you gasp out as you cling to him tightly, with your arms around his neck and your legs wrapping around his hips to keep yourself in place, your hands getting lost in his pure white hair as you have your face buried in the crook of his neck.

"I know, sweetheart... I know..." he breathes gently against your neck as his own hands are lost in your hair, breathing in your familiar scent he'd damn near forgotten.

When you finally pull away from him, it's only for a moment, just long enough to see Satoru's pretty face, seeing that it's unharmed, which fills you with relief before your hands grab the collar of his t-shirt as you tug him against you so fast that your lips slam together.

This kiss is messy, your teeth clashing with his, both of you panting so hard that it's challenging to kiss properly, but you don't care about that one bit.

Just a minute ago, you were so sure you'd never seen him again, but now that he's here with you, you'll take any scrap of closeness you can get.

He has one arm wrapped under your legs to help support you, while the other tangles in your hair, pulling you back while he gasps for breath.

You let go, gasping for breath. "Oh my god, you're here, you're real, you-you're alive..." you whimper as you press your forehead against his, your hands cupping his face. "You came back...”

“I'm alive." he nods against your forehead, his lips brushing yours again.

"I promised, didn't I?"

That's right. Itadori mentioned that before he was sealed in the box completely, Satoru had told Itadori to tell you that he promised to return to you, no matter what and no matter how long it took.

"I'm here; I'm home," he says before giving you a long, deep kiss.

He lets go a few moments later, and you look him straight in the eyes.

"I thought-" you choke on your burning throat. "I thought you were gone, I thought- I thought I'd never see you again..."

You're tearing up again, the weight of your emotions confusing you, but you still muster a smile as you look at him. "I thought I lost you..."

"Oh, baby," he sighs, setting you down on your feet so that he can wipe your tears away. You didn't lose me; I'm right here." He assures you, and you nod, leaning into the warmth of his palm. And I'm not going anywhere, never again, okay?"

You nod back at him, shutting your eyes as you relish in the comfort of his presence.

Now that he's back with you, you can finally get your life back on track and end what's been happening with Sukuna and Geto.

Right now, though, all you want to do is stay wrapped up in his embrace, which is what you will do.

[redrose10]

This is #1 from the picture game!

Warnings: Depression, talks of cheating, mentions of therapy and taking medication, body insecurities after pregnancy, divorce, swearing, mentions of sex, lots of crying

You nervously bounced your leg as you waited for your new boss to come greet you. It had been several years since you last changed jobs but lately your life had been all out of sorts so you figured why not. You were in the process of a messy divorce from your husband. You had moved into your own apartment. You had decided to go back to school to finish your degree that you had put on hold when your daughter was born.

So it seemed like the perfect choice when you found out that the college you were attending was doing a group hire of about eight different assistants to work with various professors. They didn’t tell you which ones or what departments and you didn’t really care. The pay was surprisingly decent and there were benefits. The hours were good and it also got you some extra credits on top of it.

When you arrived today you were told to head to the literature department. Your soon to be ex husband was a literature professor at a college a few cities over so the sound of that made your mouth sour. Hopefully this professor wasn’t as much of a jerk as your ex you hoped.

It’s funny how life turns out sometimes you thought as you watched your soon to be ex Yoongi walk down the hall to greet you. You cursed yourself for thinking he still looked as good as ever with his black rimmed glasses and his fitted turtleneck sweater.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw you, “Nope, we’re not doing this here Y/N. It’s my first day and I don’t need you embarrassing me.”

“Me embarrass you? I’m not the one who left you sitting alone at a restaurant for two hours on our anniversary while I was “with a friend”.”, you spat.

“Y/N, she was a friend. A very married and very gay friend which you would’ve known had you given me the opportunity to explain before biting my head off.”

“Okay and that doesn’t change the fact that you forgot our anniversary.”, you scoffed.

“Why are you here? Come to take more of my money?”, he said changing the subject.

“Mo-More of your money?! I haven’t taken any of your money. I only want you to provide half for Mae. That’s it. It’s all in the papers or are you too busy with your friend to even read those?”, you questioned.

“How is she by the way?”, he asked immediately softening at the mention of his daughter, “C-Can I see her this weekend?”

You nodded, “Of course Yoongi. You know I’ll never stop you. She misses you.”

Yoongi had always been an amazing father. It was one of the few things that kept you in the marriage for as long as you stayed.

“Why are you here Y/N?”, he asked again.

“I got a job as an assistant to one of the professors. They sent me to this department.”

Yoongi pinched the bridge of his nose, “Oh for fucks sake. This can’t be happening.”

“Why are you here?”, you also questioned.

“They offered me a tenured position at this school. And part of that offer included my own assistant.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you changed jobs?”

He scoffed, “I also changed which brand of toothpaste I use. Should I tell you that too?”

You hated how cold and mean he had become towards you. You missed the comforting, warm and welcoming man that you had married.

“The brand of toothpaste you use doesn’t possibly affect our daughter Yoongi. What if something happened to her and I thought you still worked at your old job? I need to know things like this.”

He nodded, “You’re right. I’m sorry. I should’ve told you. You didn’t tell me that you got a new job either by the way.”

He was right. You nodded, “I’m sorry. There’s just a lot going on and I was overwhelmed as it is.”

“Do you need more money?”

“What?! No I don’t need more money. I can take care of myself just fine.”

“Alright alright. I just wanted to make sure.”, he rolled his eyes

“Well maybe I can ask them to switch my department or something.”, you said.

“No it’s fine. We’re both adults. We need to learn to co-parent anyways so this can be good practice.”

You were skeptical but agreed.

Yoongi’s office was much brighter and warmer than you expected. A large oak desk covered in books and papers. A photo of him holding Mae the day she was born was hanging on the wall. It was the biggest you’d ever seen him smile and no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen a smile like that on him.

“Since it’s the first day of class I don’t really have much for you to do. Can you please just take all of the papers for the syllabus and put them in order and staple them? That would really help me.”

“Sure.”, you nodded and got to work.

Working for your soon to be ex was easier than you thought. Sure you both argued and took little jabs at each other here and there but for the most part he’d give you a list of things to do for the day and you’d just go about your day doing them. You two were almost being friendly with each other again.

He’d bring you a coffee that they “accidentally” gave him for free and it just happened to be your favorite kind and you’d always happen to bring way too much food for your lunch so you’d offer to share it with him. Things seemed nice for once in a long time.

On a Wednesday afternoon he was at some big faculty meeting. He’d asked you to edit a paper he was working on so you were sat at his desk reading through it.

There was a quick knock at the door before a woman appeared. “Hope you’re hungry Yoongi. I got your favor-Oh! I’m sorry. I was expecting Professor Min to be here.”, she said startled by your presence.

“He’s in a meeting. He should be back shortly.”, you faked politeness.

You also took a notice of her appearance. Something you’d been doing a lot lately anytime you were around another woman. She was definitely younger than you and Yoongi. Long perfectly toned legs, no tummy pouch. She probably had perfect skin without stretch marks. She was gorgeous and everything you felt you weren’t.

She smiled, “You look really familiar.”

“Well I take some classes here so maybe you’ve seen me in one of those.”

“No no that’s not it. I’ve seen you in a photo…Oh! Your Professor Mins wife or soon to be ex wife I should say.”, she chuckled, “He used to have a picture of you on his desk.”

Hearing that he “used to” hurt pretty bad but what could you expect of him at this point honestly.

“I’m sorry how do you know Professor Min? I can take a message and let him know you stopped by.”, you said grabbing a pen.

“He was my Professor over at SNU. We got pretty close there. Then I transferred over here and now he’s here too”, she giggled again, “I guess he missed me too much. Just tell him Mia stopped by. He’ll know.”

“I’ll get right on that.”, you rolled your eyes as she turned and walked away.

After she left you felt a wave of emotions hit you. The realization that your marriage was over and probably had been over much longer for Yoongi than it had been for you making your eyes brim with tears. You started to dig around in Yoongi’s desk looking for some tissues when you saw it. Flipped over and tucked away in the bottom drawer was a picture of you and Yoongi. You were looking up at the camera while he had his arms around your waist and his cheek resting on the top of your head as he smiled. It was taken minutes before he got down on one knee and asked you to spend the rest of your life with him. Now this precious moment that you thought you’d both cherish forever was shoved in the bottom of a desk drawer. That only made you cry harder and you were thankful that you found the tissues.

You had just gotten yourself mostly composed when Yoongi got back from his meeting.

“I’m sorry that took longer than expected. How did the editing go?”

He looked at you. You knew you couldn’t get one by him. He’d always been able to tell when you were crying.

“Y/N what’s wrong?”

“Nothing don’t worry about it?”

“You’re crying. Something happened.”

“Nothing happened. Can you just leave me alone?”, you hissed.

He sighed, “Why do you always push me away? For once can you just stop trying to be tough and tell me what’s wrong.”

“No Yoongi, I can’t stop being tough because I’ve spent so long having to be tough so that you can’t hurt me any more.”

He ran his tongue over his slightly parted lips.

You grabbed your bag and tossed it over your shoulder, “The paper looks good so far. I’m going to get lunch.”

You turned to look at him but he was staring at the ground, “Oh and by the way, Mia stopped by.”

You left letting the door slam behind you.

Yoongi texted you to take a longer lunch than normal. Whether he felt bad for you or didn’t want to deal with you or maybe he had invited Mia to his office and had other plans, you didn’t care. You needed the extra time and were glad to take it.

When you did return back to his office Yoongi was sitting at his desk going over something on his computer. Without a word you walked over and took a seat on the couch pulling out some paperwork that still needed to be reviewed.

“I have never been unfaithful to you Y/N. I know that’s what you’re thinking. I would never do that to you no matter what is going on between us.”

“Then who is she?”, you asked between sobs that came out of nowhere.

“She’s just an over zealous student that I tutored last semester and part of the reason I left SNU. She wasn’t taking no for an answer. I didn’t want to get her expelled and I got a better job offer so I just left. She must’ve heard that I transferred here from someone. I’ll talk to security and let them know not to allow her on campus. I swear to you Y/N there’s absolutely nothing going on between me and her…or anyone else.”

You heard him sigh as he watched you continued to cry.

“How did we get to this point?”, he said running his hands over his face. You had an idea but couldn’t do any more than cry a little harder.

Then he suddenly left his desk and came over next to you on the couch. “I have an idea. Do you trust me?”, he asked.

You only nodded knowing your voice would sound too rough.

“Okay hold this pen.”, he said taking one out of his suit pocket and gently placing it in your hands, “Whoever has this pen gets to speak their mind and say anything that they want to and the other person can’t interrupt or speak until they have the pen. I think we need to sit down and talk about things like adults, without our emotions causing us to act out.”

You stared at the pen for a moment then you looked at Yoongi. He was silent but you could see it in his eyes that he was scared.

After taking a minute to compose yourself you took another look at him before speaking.

“For me it started a few months after Mae was born. I hated my new body, the way I looked. I mean I was proud of what I had done and I wouldn’t have changed anything but it was hard Yoongi. I gained weight, I have a little belly pouch and stretch marks, my boobs are saggy and uneven. I felt so gross and unattractive.

And then I noticed you were getting distant. You didn’t touch me as much, you stopped trying to get little peaks of me changing or getting out of the shower. We’ve had sex like twice since Mae was born and both times I could tell you weren’t really into it. I thought you weren’t attracted to me any more either.”

You paused to take a look at him. He was delicately looking at you, biting his lip. You knew he was trying his hardest not to interrupt you.

So you continued, “Then one day I thought I’d surprise you. I bought a new lingerie set and dropped Mae off at my parents. I showered and shaved and moisturized like it was going to fix everything. I added a little of the perfume you always liked and then when I knew you were laying on the bed I walked out of the bathroom. I dropped my robe and said your name in the most sultry way I could. And..and you didn’t even look at me Yoongi.”, your voice cracked. It was harder to talk about this than you had thought but you composed yourself again, “And I wish I would’ve just turned around and went back into the bathroom because when you finally did look at me you didn’t react. You didn’t tell me I looked good, you didnt pull me towards the bed like you used to, you didn’t even smile. You just stared at me like you were disgusted. Yoongi do you know how much that hurt me? What that did to my confidence?To realize that I couldn’t even get your attention after putting in that much effort. I felt like an idiot. I wanted to talk then but you said you had to make a phone call and left the room. So I changed back into my pajamas and went to bed.”

You clicked the pen a few times trying to ground yourself. Yoongi was still patiently sitting next to you.

“Then our anniversary came up. I wanted to give us one more chance. I got a new dress that I felt really good in. Booked a reservation at your favorite restaurant. I reminded you that morning. And you didn’t show up. Yoongi I sat there for two hours…two hours like an idiot waiting on the love of my life for nothing. You texted me that you were out with someone else so I figured you’d already found someone you were more attracted to and accepted it. I paid for my drinks and went home. The next day I called the divorce lawyer. And…and here we are.”

Once you had finished you had to admit it felt pretty good getting all of that off your chest. It was all things that you had said to him in your head many times but never had the guts to say to him in person.

When you realized he still hadn’t said anything you took the pen and placed it in his hands. The rough callouses giving you goosebumps.

Yoongi took a deep breath to prepare himself for his turn.

“Y/N, I am so incredibly sorry that I ever made you doubt yourself. From the minute I saw you I thought you were the most beautiful being ever and that has never changed. If anything you’ve only gotten more attractive to me. The thing is…is that I’m depressed. I have been for a while. It started just before Mae was born and got worse afterwards. I should’ve told you but I was embarrassed and I felt guilty. I mean I’m married to the woman I love more than anything and we have a beautiful little girl who’s healthy and happy and I have a great job that I love so I felt like I had no reason to be depressed and I was angry with myself for feeling that way. And then…”

He took another long deep breath, “And then after Mae was born I knew I had to get better for both of you. So I saw a psychiatrist and was put on depression medication and started seeing a therapist too. And it was helping. I started feeling better. But the medication, it…it has certain side effects. So while any time my eyes and brain saw you they wanted one thing, the rest of my body didn’t want to cooperate.”

He looked at you apprehensively to see if you were understanding where he was going with that and you did so you gave him a little nod.

“That night I knew you had something planned. I accidentally saw the bag from the lingerie store in the closet and then Mae was gone and you were taking an extra long time in the shower. I put it all together and I knew you wanted to have sex and I panicked. I started thinking about anything I could to try and force it to happen. That camping trip in the woods, our wedding night, that night Mae was conceived.”, he said with a wiggle of his eyebrows making you giggle for the first time in what felt like forever, “But none of it was working. And then I looked at you. I stared because I wanted to burn that image into my brain forever. You looked so gorgeous, sexy, incredible. I felt like the luckiest man alive. And then I realized that I was just going to disappoint you and make you feel insecure because I knew you’d think it was because of you. So I panicked again and left to go call my therapist. Looking back I should’ve just told you everything from the start.”

He adjusted himself on the couch to get comfortable again before going on, “And then I knew our anniversary was coming up so I stopped taking my medication for a little. I wanted to be able to make it up to you and show you how much I loved you and make you feel as incredible as you make me feel. I thought I’d be okay but it’s like the depression hit me harder than before. I was worried and called my therapist so she gave me an emergency appointment. I’m so sorry Y/N. We were talking through things and it took longer than I thought and then I had to get my prescription refilled and by the time it was over you had already left the restaurant. I knew when I got home that you were going to call the lawyer. I didn’t blame you so I didnt try to stop you.”

He stopped to remove his glasses and wipe away some tears. In all the years you’ve known him you’ve only ever seen him cry twice before. Once when his grandmother had passed away and the day Mae was born. To see him sit here in front of you and cry as if he had nothing else to loose really pulled at your heart strings.

You went to speak but realized he still had the pen. It appeared he wasn’t done anyways because he grabbed your hand and squeezed it tight, “I’m sorry I failed you not only as a lover but also as a husband and a friend. I never meant to make you feel that way. Just know that when this is all over and you’re no longer tied to me that no one will ever love you as deeply and as strongly as I always will. I will always be here for you and Mae. No matter what. I’m sorry I’ve hurt you so many times. I wish I could take it all back and take on the hurt instead.”

Through your own blurry vision you looked over his tear stained cheeks and red nose before taking the pen in his hand and tossing it aside. Tightly you wrapped your arms around his neck and connected your lips to his, “I’m sorry too Yoongi. I should’ve just talked to you and let you know how I felt instead of being stubborn and expecting you to fix it. I’m sorry you’ve been struggling so much and I wish you would’ve told me. I want to take the pain from you. I love you so much and I don’t want to get divorced. I just wanted you to hurt too just like I was but I didn’t know you were already hurting so badly in other ways. But I love you so much. I’m so sorry.”

By this point you were ugly crying and didn’t even care. You were sure you looked like a red, snot covered mess but when you actually took the time to look at Yoongi you could see the love he had for you even in that moment.

“It’s okay Y/N…Everything will be okay, everything will be okay, everything will be okay…”, he repeated a few more times while stroking your hair until you had finally started to calm down a little.

“So what do we do now?”, you sniffled.

“Well we can take it slow if you want. We have to think about Mae in all of this too and we don’t want to confuse her. Maybe slowly start moving back home and spending more and more time together as a family. And uh maybe you could come to one of my therapy sessions with me, if you want to. I know she’d love to meet you and we can talk there and go over anything else we need too. And when you’re ready we can meet with the lawyer again and take care of that.”

You smiled, “Okay that sounds nice.”

You leaned into him resting your head on his shoulder while you played with his fingers. Just from the pinkness of his hands you could tell he was blushing.

“Umm and maybe you could come over one day and you could bring that lingerie set with you and maybe…maybe we could try.”, he said nervously rubbing his hand over the back of his neck.

Gently you stopped him taking his hand in yours, “Of course we can try. I know it may not happen but we’ll work through it together.”

He breathed a sigh of relief before pulling you over for a kiss, “I love you Mrs. Min Yoongi.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

And surprise…Here is a bonus little smutty side story that goes with it. I wrote it as a separate story because I don’t usually include smut in my writings and I didn’t want to blindside anyone that may like reading what I post but isn’t comfortable reading smut. This way you can just read this main fic or you can read both if you’d like.

I’m not going to become a smut account or anything. I’ve just had a similar idea for a while and I felt like it fit this situation. I’ve been really nervous to post it but wanted to try it out.

[lightlycareless]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTNL3PDf8/

I saw this and it made me think of Naoya. I’m not sure which kid this would be but this feels so much like Naoya in how sassy and done the dad seems about the situation. He also does seem like the type to climb into the backseat on the road to see what his daughter is saying XD idk I love seeing videos of dads with their kids and imagining it with Naoya

Awww, I love this so much!!

I already envisioned Naomi as a chirpy baby, always talking to her mama or papa, so this was just perfect!!!

warnings: fluff. Naoya and you are parents to an adorable baby girl named Naomi❤️ Also this is not exactly the same as what happened in the video, it actually inspired me to write something somewhat different, still related, but not identical... if that's ok 🥺 I still hope you enjoy it though!!

Happy reading!

To me this sounds like it would happen a road trip, or anywhere where the two have to drive to their destination and grow quite unsure if Naomi will be able to handle such a thing.

But of course, she does! Kind of, Naomi is always one to entertain herself thanks to her wit and curiosity, either creating complex storylines involving her plushies, or sharing whatever crossed her mind with her parents—regardless of if they were fluent in babbling or not.

“—jump! Kitty jump!”

“Is that so, dumpling?” Naoya smiles, always enjoying listening to the voice of her adorable daughter. “And what else did she do?”

“Fly—no, sleep! Kitty tired…”

It was always endearing to see how the two interacted, like they had an unbreakable father-daughter bond you could only dream of having! Still, you weren’t jealous—no, of course not. If anything, you were simply happy they got along perfectly, God knows how guilty Naoya felt for his prolonged absences, so to see them so close… it made your heart soar with happiness.

Until Naomi eventually grows tired of being in the same sitting position for hours, and demands to be attended, which Naoya naturally jumps to do so.

“Papaaaa!!!”

“What is it, pumpkin? Is everything ok?!” Your husband naturally frets.

“Tired papa, hungry!!”

“Oh, I know what to do.” You say, reaching over for your bag to give Naomi one of her many pre-prepared meals—but she doesn’t want it, neither the milk nor the fruit; and that’s when both knew a break was due.

“Now, now—isn’t that better, princess?” Soon after finding a place to pull over, he cooed at her while gently holding her against him, watching her eat as Naomi glanced back at him, with those bright round eyes that let him know she was satisfied to be away from that uncomfortable seat and instead in the arms of her beloved papa.

“We should stretch our legs for a bit before continuing.” You suggest, to which Naoya enthusiastically agrees to—he had driven to a near lookout with the hopes of distracting Naomi (though it was more like rushing to find one, he wasn’t to stop in the middle of the road and expose his family!) and get a few more pictures of her; mementos to reminisce his loved ones while away for work.

“Look over here, little mochi!” you sang, waving your hand at Naomi to catch her attention and get her into the right position: a lovely picture of her and her papa standing before the beautiful scenery of the Japanese countryside.

“Alright, I think it’s time we head back on the road if we still want to be on time.” Naoya says, wanting to take advantage of the sunlight as well as Naomi’s now calm demeanor, believing it wouldn’t take long for her to fall asleep, lulled into deep slumber after being tired out…

Or at least that’s what either hoped, for Naomi, upon seeing her parents approach the car, quickly understood that she’d be relegated back to that awful seat, far away from dear papa and all the attention he was giving her—no can do!

“No!” Naomi cried, shaking her head. “No, papa!!”

“What’s wrong, Naomi??” Naoya, as usual, worries. “Are you still hungry? Or do you want to stay here a little longer—”

“Papa no go! Stay!’

“Oh, you don’t want me to go?” He asks, flattered by her request. Though concerned, because if he were to stay with his little princess, then who…?

“It’s ok, I’ll drive.” You suggest, taking the keys from his hands. “Go sit back with Naomi, our mochi needs you.”

“Are you sure, my love? We still have much to traverse.”

“I’ll be fine.” You encourage with a smile. “Now go, sit with her. I’m sure the two of you will have much to talk about!”

And that, they did, for Naomi wasted no time to jump back on whatever playful scenario she left pending, now with the addition of her equally imaginative father (no surprise where Naomi got it from) who made her playtime even more exciting.

“And then, the great Toji-kun appeared, defeating all enemies around them and rescuing Kitty!” Naoya effused, playing with one of her plushies—a stern-looking penguin that somehow reminded him of his cousin.

Naomi giggles, liking the addition of this so-called amazing Toji-kun into her games, alongside noticing the fondness her father seemed to have for this character for he’d always bring him along one way or the other, regardless of what they were playing—

Never comparable to her adorable Hello Kitty, of course, but she wouldn’t tell him that. Not when she was having so much fun!

And so, your chirpy daughter and doting husband continued to entertain one another, making the ride to your first destination quite enjoyable—it kind of made you sad having to interrupt them just to ask Naoya a question regarding your hosting reservation, but since they quieted down a bit this might be the best moment yet—

“Honey, at what time do we check-in?”

Only to realize their silence hadn’t come from observing the scenery around, but rather, succumbing to their own exhaustion, Naoya’s head rested over Naomi’s seat while her hand tightly heled onto his, for even when asleep she didn’t want to be far from him.

You smile at the sight of them, giving them one last glance through the rearview mirror before continuing looking ahead, hoping that by the time you arrive you’d still be able to snap a picture of them.

Until then, you look forward to spending the weekend with them, on what was Naomi’s first holiday as a family.

Been wanting to write about Naoya, Y/N, and Naomi spending a holiday together ajkghkajgha I don't know what exactly, but you know, I'll figure out something :)))) (suggestions are greatly appreciated too hehe)

Thank you so much for feeding my domestic au. We just love a doting Naoya, don't we :') 🥹❤️ if only... Well, that's why I'm here for 🤭 still have more to come!!

Now, take care, and hope to see you soon!

[scarletwinterxx]

please write more of dad!jisung 🥹🥹🥹

helllooo~ i actually got a few dad jisung requests , apologies it took this long but I finally wrote it😊 hope you like it!

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.Keep reading

"What if she cries?"

"Then do something about it?"

"Okay but what do I do?"

You look over your boyfriend and the baby girl in his arms, both looking at you with curiosity in their eyes. "Jisung, that's your daughter. You kept her alive for this long, you'll figure it out"

"Pretty sure we made it this far because of you. You're the brain in this relationship"

Jiwon babbles like she's the one talking to her father, this makes Jisung look down at the baby girl in his arms. Leaning down to boop their noses together, something he knows his daughter loves.

"Stop talking yourself out of getting groceries, it's only a few things and I really need to clean the house, your parents are coming over" you tell him as you put a few things inside her diaper bag, just the essentials incase she needs them while they're out.

When you got pregnant with Jiwon, you admit you felt lost. You and Jisung were still very young. You just turned 20 when you found out, everything that could go wrong already playing in your mind. The only one who talked some sense into you was your boyfriend. Jisung was the voice of reason during that time, he really stepped up and made sure you were taken care of.

First agenda on his list was to get a place for the two of you, the apartment wasn't too big but enough for your small family. The two of you worked remotely so it was perfect when the little one came.

Now your daughter is a year old, she's everything the two of you dreamed of. And even though she came a little earlier than planned, Park Jiwon is the light of both your universe's.

Jisung loved the little human with everything he is, his favorite part is that she looks like you in every way. He must have saved a nation in his past life to be blessed like this, living with the love of his life and the little life the two of you created.

"Here's a bag just in case she needs anything, she got snacks in there. Also packed some for you" you joked, putting the bag on his shoulder.

You laugh as you watch the 6 foot guy holding a pink bag and a baby with the biggest pink bow, "You two are adorable, now go I have some cleaning up to do"

"Wish me luck" he mumbles, giving you a kiss on the forehead before walking towards the front door

"Hey, when someone comes up you and says 'oh my gosh, you're baby's so cute' what do you say?" you call out to him

He rolls his eyes, a smile forming on his lips "She looks just like her momma"

"Damn right she does, now go. Love you both, see you later"

[youre-a-total--poser]

Can you please write one with mama nat and teen reader where Fury sends the reader on a mission with another one of the Avengers even when nat told him not to, and the reader got injured or something and nat helps nurse her back to health cuz she sees her like her own kid <3

Or you can write anything with mama nat, i just love your writing so much aaaaaaaaaaa 🧎🏻‍♀️

Accident Prone (Request)

Warnings: I don't know anymore Age: briefly 10 and 15 Word Count: 955 Requests: Open Summary: Read the request and it will explain everything Requested by: Anonymous Date: 28/09/2024 paring: N/A A/N: Thank you for your request I hope that you like it. Not sure if this is even good enough since it has been so long since I've written anything

Masterlist

---⧗---

You were taken by HYDRA when you were about 10 and let's say you were one of their failed experiments.

You had telekinesis powers well sort of. Honestly, you had no clue how to make it work and when it did happen it would happen at the most inconvenient moments.

Things would be moving about randomly people, mainly you, would be getting whacked by flying objects. It wasn't great definitely a 0/10 wouldn't recommend.

Then one day the Avengers came in and put a stop to everything that was happening and rescued everyone like they do but the only thing that was different about this whole operation is that they found something or someone sitting in a cage who would change their lives forever.

You were sitting there covered in cuts and bruises and they assumed the worst but that wasn't the case at all. You didn't tell them what happened and even to this day you never did cause it's pretty embarrassing not gonna lie but eventually they figured out why.

They ended up taking you back with them and letting you stay probably because they felt bad for this little thing that can't walk in a straight line, trips over nothing and chokes on air.

---⧗---

You were now 15 life is great everything is great.

You were getting help to figure out how to use your powers and after years of training, you could successfully move… a penny.

Sure it wasn't the biggest thing in the world but at least there was one less thing randomly flying at you so you called it a win.

Over the years you had developed a close bond with Natasha. What started with her tending to your every wound gradually turned into a mother/daughter-like relationship.

Every time the Avengers went on missions you were left home alone and you wanted nothing more than to go with them to see what it was like but every time Natasha would say 'No it's too dangerous.', 'You're too young.', 'Do you really think I'm going to let you go when you can't even make toast without nearly burning the place down?'

In your defence it wasn't even your fault that the toaster caught on fire someone turned the dial too high.

You knew that Fury was here assigning Steve on a mission and you just happened to overhear that it would be an easy one so it would be perfect for you.

Your plan was to be as annoying as possible so he would get frustrated and say yes so that's exactly what you did you followed him around repeating the word please and just as expected it didn't take long for him to give in.

Your excitement lasted all of 4 seconds as soon as Natasha heard what was going on.

"Absolutely not," she said crossing her arms.

"Please, Nat." you begged, "nothing is going to happen."

"I'm sorry but I said no Y/N."

"Not fair," you mumbled while crossing your arm in a huff.

Then the best idea, well the best idea at the time popped into your head however now you regret it.

"I'll never ask for anything ever again if you let me go."

While Natasha was thinking you were giving her your best please face it's never failed you before.

She let out a sigh "fine."

Your face lit up and a large smile appeared.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," you said while hugging her.

"Don't make me regret it Y/N," she said sternly.

---⧗---

The mission was easy and boring it was just to collect paperwork or something you weren't really listening or paying attending.

It was all going well until it wasn't…

Natasha was anxiously waiting for the Quinjet's arrival once she heard you and Steve were on your way back.

She watched as Steve carried you out of the Quinjet. Natasha was already going out of her mind but when she saw Steve carrying it it sent her over the edge.

"What happened?" she asked hurrying over.

"She tripped over a stone and sprained her ankle." Steve briefly explained

"It was a very large stone actually." you chimed in.

"God sake Y/N, I thought something bad happened to you," Natasha said her voice still sounding quite panicky.

"Something bad did happen I sprained my ankle"

Steve let out a frustrated sigh and Natasha just shook her head.

"Can you put me down now?" you asked Steve who was still carrying you.

"I thought you said you couldn't walk," Steve said gently putting you down.

"I never said I couldn't walk I said I didn't want to walk."

"It doesn't matter let go and put some ice on it," Natasha said putting her arm around your waist and you slowly limped back inside.

---⧗---

"what am I going to do with you Y/N?" Natasha asked as she handed you some painkillers and a glass of water then placed a bag of frozen peas on your ankle.

"Lock me in a room and throw away the key?" You said quietly chuckling then you took the meds that you were given.

"Don't tempt me," She replied sitting down beside you.

"It hurts a lot," You said while wincing.

"The meds will kick in soon and it won't hurt as much."

Natasha picked up the TV remote and put on your favourite movie.

While it was playing you felt yourself getting tired.

"Thank you for taking care of me Nat," you said sleepily.

"You welcome, sweetheart," she said quietly.

A slight smile appeared on Natasha's face as she put her arm around you while you moved closer to her.

You ended up falling asleep in the safety and comfort of her arms.

---⧗---

Taglist

@saraaahsstuff // @marvelnatasha12346 // @amolapasta // @knox145 // @ducktamer415 // @romanoffliviv

Go HERE to be added to the taglist

[l0stfoster]

I have never felt more loved in my life thank you for loving me and the autistic tendencies this au has brought out of me 🫶🫶🫶 - paul anon

While we’re at it can we hear more abt the ritual/when paul got the markings? And when darry saw them for the first time how did that play out ??

Also, i saw what he was mfing reading in that one doodle you cant hide from me. Is there ever a time where Paul tries to get rid of his powers and what happens ?? Does he succeed (which I hope he does NAWT)?? Does he fail?? Does he get caught ?? Like i need details its all im thinking about

I need you to know how quickly the grin on my face appeared when I read this. It was instantaneous, immediately a little smirk. Ohhhh how I've been waiting for this one.

There's a LOT of typing because Paul's lore stuff was one of my favorites to create, so everything is below the cut as usual. Though, just to be safe as well. Your question isn't being answered in order, cutting it up a bit differently. The first two questions have little drabble kinda answers with their bullet points, 'cause I had felt silly.

// mentions of child abuse, ritualistic self-harm, and implied passive suicidal ideation

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

When Darry saw Paul's markings for the first time, how did that play out ??

Paul's scars weren't exactly something Darry had been unaware of. More specifically, it had always been the pair of scars horizontally along Paul's forearms that he'd gotten adjusted to seeing. He made his own assumptions. He never asked about them, either, since Paul made his contempt for them clear each and every time he made it a point to keep them covered. He was always in their old football letterman jacket or any other thing that would keep them out of people's view. Darry could argue that he'd never even seen the male without a shirt on, as well, even if they didn't cover the scars themselves. So, when he'd idly kept his eyes on Paul as the male changed; he'd been completely startled (and admittedly, a little panicked) at the large, complicated marking practically branded into his boyfriend's back. The thing that bothered him the most, though, was that it looked too neat for Paul to have done it himself. "..How'd you get that scar on your back?" Darry didn’t know what response he’d expected. Maybe for Paul to wave him off, dismiss it as he always did whenever a sensitive question came up. Maybe this was something all witches had, something that proved their connection to it which needed to be hidden because he'd grown up on the side of the tracks that would've had him killed for it. What he wasn’t expecting was the hesitation, let alone the quiet answer he'd been given. “-I.. don’t know.”

- Darry, unfortunately, didn't get any answers the first time. Paul avoids the conversation real hard every time Darry asks, but this is the one thing Darry doesn't want to drop, just because it seems to freak Paul out so bad. - He only finds out what it is because he snoops a liiiiittle bit (Paul is VERY private with his witchcraft) and connects the dots himself. - The reason Paul's just as confused is because he avoids looking at the mirror or himself at all costs. When he looks for too long, he sees his parents staring back at him; and he hates it. Avoiding it flat-out means he doesn't have to ask himself why he hates it. - Darry recognizes it's magical. Hell, being a fae, he could probably sense any kind of magical connection to it if he tried hard enough.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ Can we hear more abt the ritual/When Paul got the markings?

Paul doesn't remember when he got the ritual carving on his back, at least, he doesn't at first. It seems that's part of the point when he goes digging through his books, looking for anything familiar to the markings on his skin. The answers he does get just leave him more confused; they're not supposed to pair together. All those runes, the apotropaic symbol- it's all stuff that directly aims to hinder his power, to hide it; and it certainly worked, because the last thing he can even recall about his curse before it surfaced once more was his mom's face, twisted in disgust and oh. Oh. It dawns on him fast; the memory floods his mind way too quickly while pieces connect. He'd always wondered why they owned a book about blood magic when witches didn't specialize in that; his mom didn't even seem to use it, she never used her powers much as it was. As he stares at the pages listing the meaning of all the symbols that adorn his back, he realizes two things. The first thing is that this wasn't in the books, this was made for one reason; originally made with malicious intent. The second thing is that he thinks he knows why the ritual knife he knows always looked so familiar. "This is for your own good." How cruel is it to find out your own mother willingly mutilated you in an attempt to restrain your power?

- Yeah, Paul's mom carved the marking into his back and used her own magic to put his own into remission. She had to make it herself, as no witch would want to take away their own power; hence it not being in the book. - The worst part for him is that he can't bring himself to hate her for it. If anything, it makes him hate his power worse. If his mom hated it enough to do this, then it has to be horrible. - This is how he realizes blood magic might be able to get rid of his power btw </3 - Remission is the only way to hide them without full removal, but the fact that he's always with the cursed now means it wouldn't work. Hence why the rumble awakened it again, because he was surrounded by them. - The ritual carving is part of why he can’t channel his power to its fullest potential, due to actively having the scar of something that was meant to restrain him. - It still holds its effects sometimes, there’s days when Paul’s absolutely incapable of using his powers bc the carving’s ritual was to prevent him from doing it in the first place, and so despite his magic showing back up, it’s still trying to clamp down on it. - As far as he knows, there's no way to reverse it. It's carved into skin, he'd have to be able to get rid of that scar. It'd weaken once his mom dies, though, but that's far in the future. - He likely takes the ritual knife to his own back to "ruin" the carving reading, but even that's not a guarantee to work.

Is there ever a time when Paul tries to get rid of his powers and what happens?? Does he succeed?? Does he fail?? Does he get caught??

- Paul, so far for what we've got written, has tried to get rid of his powers twice via blood rituals. - The first time was while he still lived at home, but the intent for it was a bit different. He wasn't trying to get rid of them permanently at the time, instead he was more focused on trying to mute them to a point where he could control them easier; as his magic is directly tied to his emotions during the early days and his parents grew increasingly pissed the more they showed themselves. - He was also very new to blood magic and the rituals involving it; if he'd started smaller it might've gone better, as a ton of witch rituals, spells, and even potion work require a blood sacrifice-- but this was the first thing he attempted. He went in completely blind, and it. Didn't work out, which is probably for the best. - He needed a LOT of blood for the ritual, hence why the scars on each arm are large and long; he was going to make sure it worked, even if he was being really stupidly careless with the approach-- and then his dad walked in before he finished the ritual. - A reoccurring theme you'll notice is that Paul's (blood heavy) rituals get interrupted before he finishes; they're very focus heavy and the slightest interruption can ruin it. He thinks he's just fucking up the ritual by doing something wrong or not offering enough of his blood. - Anyways, Mr. Holden, being an asshole, was more pissed off by the mess Paul was making; his mother mirrored that emotion, but her anger was because he failed the ritual. She doesn't care that he's actively bleeding out, she's upset that he couldn't successfully contain himself. - As seen in the doodles in here beneath the cut, Paul had to patch himself up; a trip to the hospital would require an explanation or Paul would be framed as suicidal, and god forbid their reputation be effected. He could've probably healed himself to make it easier to at least manage, but his father insisted he had to live with the consequences- and the scars. - Paul's fully forced to hide 'em as well, they're "disgusting" and "something he should be ashamed of"

- The second time, was after he moved into the Curtis home. - I've already made it very loud and clear that Paul carry's a lot of guilt, including generational due to the fact that his great-great-whatever-the-fuck-grandmother was the one who caused the curse. He's fine with his curse for a good bit after easing into the greasers, but watching how their treated makes that guilt grow worse. Sure, HE didn't make the curse, but he's related to the person who did. - A part of him thinks that, if the bloodline ends with him, it'll free the next generation as well. This is why he's so careless with blood rituals even when they're not in the attempt to get rid of his power. Either he successfully gets rid of the curse, or dies trying. In the long run, both options eliminate the bloodline. - (It's good to note this wouldn't work, by the way. The curse is set over Tulsa, and nothing would happen if the witch's bloodline ended. The guilt’s just convinced him that he’s directly apart of why it still exists; and his mom pushed that narrative as well.) - So, after finding out what his mom did to him and learning the fact that he can create his own blood magic spells; he looks into that for a more.. permanent solution to ridding himself of his magic. - Paul does not know the curse is tied to his life force. - He's long since had his own area for all his witchy shit at the Curtis house, since his witchcraft does usually require a bit of privacy (focus related, and he just feels weird being watched doing it) so it was merely a matter of shutting himself in. They're lucky he doesn't know a locking spell - The same thing repeats as it did the first time. - Darry's the one who walks in on him, because Johnny got death flashes about it. - In contrast to Mr. and Mrs. Holden, though, Darry nearly has a fucking aneurysm. He knows absolutely nothing about this blood magic stuff, meaning he's walking in on his boyfriend with his arms cut open, the air heavy with magic, and goddamn how the fuck is Paul not dead because that is so much fucking blood. He thinks it's some kind of self-harm thing (and it technically is, because there's much smarter ways for Paul to get his blood without almost killing himself.) - Paul tries to go "I can explain" but Darry's picking his ass up and dragging him inside - Darry's absolutely horrified, he's so fucking shaken and so is Paul; not because of what he's done, but because he hates that he's freaking out Darry like this. - It's a rough night for both of them.

- Timewing proposed the idea that Paul considers trying again, but he ends up looking at Darry and being soft after thinking abt what could happen just like "..I couldn't do that to him. I've hurt him enough." - Which is very silly we enjoyed it. - If Paul did succeed he would NOT have died immediately. He'd just progressively get weaker and weaker until, inevitably, he doesn't wake up.

Long ass paragraphs I apologize.

[luck-of-the-drawings]

OH ARTHUR BENNETT.. such a gorgeous and intriguing character. terribly burdened by a GRUESOME set of crimes, his light suffocated by a HEAVY century of GUILT. so tragic, so dark and broody, and yet PAINFULLY awkward in any social setting ever

[retrogradedreaming]

I just rewatched Full Moon and seeing that last scene Blitzø and Stolas ripped my heart out AGAIN and these are my thoughts after watching it a couple times, please don't throw rocks at me

First, I think this is a pretty realistic progression of miscommunication and I've seen a lot of people be on either of their sides, but I don't think there's even a side to be on. Both of them went into this with their own thoughts and pre-formed ideas of what the other wants and how they'd react, and that colored their responses and clouded their ability to process what the other was saying.

Stolas opened the whole thing with "Blitzø, I need my book back permanently" which was absolutely the wrong tone to set here. It reinforced Blitzø's belief that Stolas was getting tired of him, and as far as Blitzø (who is NOT known for his ability to accurately and objectively read people or situations) is concerned, Stolas has just confirmed that he doesn't want him. Stolas immediately clarifies and pours out his feelings, but honestly, that's a lot for Blitzø to hear immediately after feeling like his literal worst fear has been confirmed, that his business—the ONE thing he's worked so fucking hard to build from scratch—is in jeopardy. So along with wondering whether Stolas even wants him anymore, he's now contending with the panic of losing two things, so he likely barely heard and couldn't comprehend Stolas's feelings.

In ordinary circumstances, less high stakes ones for Blitzø, I think Stolas actually did a pretty decent job of communicating himself and his feelings. But I get why Blitzø didn't take it seriously—he's been in an arrangement with Stolas for so long, thinks Stolas is getting bored, so of course he'd think, "Ah, yes, a new role play, a chance for me to do better and keep him from getting bored." Stolas is understandably upset by this, but man, he really did not give Blitzø a fucking second to process at all.

And this is why I think Blitzø's reaction is understandable (not necessarily reasonable or healthy or even appropriate, but I GET IT). Of course he feels like he's being thrown away. Stolas still has power because he's rich and he's royalty and Blitzø is used to being used and discarded and not good enough. Of course he's angry—he doesn't even feel like he's being given a choice because Stolas has already scripted this in his mind, went in prepared, and imagined how it will go. He mistakes Blitzø's misunderstanding and shock for rejection—also understandably because that's what Stolas is used to, and he doesn't seem to have any friends or support, which we've seen is a pattern since childhood.

What we're seeing is two lifetimes of trauma surfacing in the face of genuine connection and love, and neither Blitzø nor Stolas knows how to deal with that. Neither of them has ever seen what it's like to receive that before. Blitzø was in the circus with a dad who sold him to a prince for "a wadded up $5 and a slim fit condom" and was always placed in the shadow of his best friend, who then hated him for 15 years because he thought Blitzø purposely blew him up. Stolas was essentially raised by a butler with a dad who had zero emotional literacy and was then forced into an arranged marriage with someone who treated him like absolute shit.

They've both lived a life where love and relationships are transactional, and they don't know how to function when someone loves them for who they are. Of course they're going to struggle to communicate, and I don't blame either of them for their reactions, but I really, really want to see them have a calmer conversation where they can process this and understand each other and accept love.

[rillils]

post fall bucky having a fear of heights?? ive always thought that he'd be afraid of heights, like he wasnt afraid of it at all before his fall, go ask steve. but after falling?? he tries to hide it from steve, how scared he is.. and steve, bless his poor soul, he blames himself for not realizing sooner, he thinks he shouldve known, he couldnt possibly have. hes always seen bucky as this brave courage man, and bucky didnt want to ruin steve's image of him worse than he already think he did. and oh my fucking god

THE POST PLANE CRASH STEVE BEING AFRAID OF TIGHT SPACES?? BECAUSE IT BRINGS HIM BACK TO FEELING THE COLD SEEP IN THROUGH HIS VERY BONES WHILE HE GETS CRUSHED BY ALL THE WATER, ICE, AND DEBRIS?? DONT GET ME STARTED OH MY GOD

HONEY I FEEL LIKE YOUR LEVEL OF CRUELTY TOWARDS ME SPECIFICALLY IS REACHING DANGEROUS LEVELS HERE

but I get it, I getchu hon, sometimes we just gotta put the blorbos in a Situation™, that's how we roll.

but holy shit 😭😭😭

I mean god, Bucky-

imagine how tough it must be for him, every time they're on a mission, 'cause he's first and foremost a sniper, isn't he? and for him, that often involves perching on the roof of really high buildings, and keeping as still as possible for as long as necessary - and above all, keeping a steady hand, because what is a sniper supposed to be if not precise and lethal and reliable?

and factor in all the other possible contingencies, too! like having to bolt if he's spotted by the enemy, and having to climb back down in a rush. or helping chase after the bad guys from rooftop to rooftop. or when, god forbid, they have to jump out of a plane and parachute themselves to a certain site.

it's an absolute nightmare for Bucky, but he just keeps trying to tough it out, right? grit his teeth, push through even when his flesh palm is clammy with sweat, even when his stomach is churning and his legs feel like jelly, even when his hands start shaking despite his best efforts to hold them still. it's scary and mortifying all at once, and he can't bring himself to say anything about it to anyone, especially to Steve. because he knows Steve would try to suggest he take it easy and stay behind, while Steve himself is out there risking his neck, and the very notion makes Bucky feel sick.

so he's just desperately hanging in there, right?

until something happens. he's dizzy, his hands are shaking too bad, he flubs a shot, Steve almost gets killed because of it. Bucky snaps. this is the last straw. he's done.

I mean, imagine how it must tear. him. apart. how horribly it must hurt him to admit to himself that he can't go on like this anymore. because on the one hand, fuck it all to hell, he's supposed to be by Steve's side! watch his six, protect him, make sure he makes it home in one piece! it's what Bucky's been doing ever since they were kids, it's a fundamental part of who he is! to even imagine letting Steve walk into a fight alone - no, not 'alone', without Bucky - is unthinkable. it's like denying himself a basic need. like denying who Bucky is, what he feels he was born to do, a biological imperative.

but. on the other hand, the thought of putting Steve in danger, of Steve getting hurt (or worse) because Bucky couldn't do his job properly, is even more unbearable.

Steve counts on him, trusts him with his life - as he should be able to do, if they're going to be a team - but how can Bucky allow that anymore, now that he can't even trust himself? how can he be what Steve needs, if he's going to let him down when Steve needs him the most? how would he ever forgive himself if something happened to Steve because of him?

he barely holds himself together until they get home, and then he just, he breaks down. stumbles over to the couch, crumples in on himself, trembling, pale like a ghost, taking in big gulps of air like he'll drown otherwise. telling a worried Steve, who's crouching next to him in a heartbeat, "I can't do this anymore".

now Steve, he had noticed that something was off for a while now, and Bucky's words just confirm what he already suspected. he thinks, of course Bucky's sick of this, of course he doesn't want to fight anymore - god knows he's got plenty of reasons to want to leave all this shit behind.

Steve could never imagine what the actual issue is, here - not until he's trying to tell Bucky that it's his right to retire if that's what he wants, that of course Steve supports him, and Bucky interrupts him to confess, in between sobs, where exactly the problem lies, and how he fears he's no longer fit to accompany Steve on missions, 'cause he'd risk becoming a liability rather than backup.

CUE A WHOLE SHITTON OF FEELS because fuck, how long has Bucky been feeling this way, and how did Steve not realize it sooner, and the way Steve's face twists with guilt when he wonders where this fear of heights might come from, and gives himself the most obvious amd most fucking heartbreaking answer, and Bucky can tell that he's hurting and blaming himself and they're just BOTH hurting and blaming themselves and hfgskfjskks HONEY WE'RE SPEEDRUNNING THROUGH ALL THE STAGES OF GRIEF HERE HELP

no, but. they're gonna have an honest conversation about this, okay? painful, yes, but also liberating. they're going to air out some of that hurt, and actually let it heal out in the open for once.

I figure there's gonna be lots of bargaining first, on both parts, like Bucky arguing that he could still fight, just maybe stick to the ground instead, and Steve telling him that he doesn't have to, and really he'd be happier knowing that Bucky's safe at home and not forcing himself into dangerous situations, and Bucky grumbling 'cause oh how the tables have turned, and just, you know, trying to find a way to compromise.

I think, maybe this is how Steve first starts to really, genuinely consider retiring, himself. like, not just picturing it in a distant, wistful way, oh wouldn't it be nice if we could do that, etc - but really, really entertaining the idea. letting himself plan it out. talking about it with Bucky, even with Sam and Nat, giving himself the chance to consider another kind of life. after all, there are plenty of battles to fight in the world, and not all of them require fists and guns, right? and if he can fight those battles too alongside Bucky, then so much the better 💖

CLAUSTROPHOBIC STEVE THOUGH OMG

somehow the first thing that comes to mind is that one scene from CATWS, when he and Nat find Zola's computerized ass and he blows up the building, and they're stuck in a tiny hole under all the rubble until Steve gets them both out. I CAN PICTURE ONLY TOO VIVIDLY HOW FUCKING SCARY THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN FOR HIM, OH MY GOD

as somebody who shares that kind of phobia, may I submit to you one of the most obvious, most mundane monsters he might face: ELEVATORS. especially of the narrow, non-see through kind, where you're literally locked inside a metal box until it releases you from that torment. IF IT DOES. like honey the anxiety is real af okay

in the spirit of putting the blorbos in a Situation™, please picture them both in an old-fashioned elevator.

Steve hasn't mentioned his fear to Bucky, he's just been lucky so far, so he didn't have to bring it up. but the stupid thing is so slow, and the space inside is so small, and sure, Steve never minded being in Bucky's close proximity, but he can't stop thinking about getting the fuck out of there asap.

at some point the fucking thing stops, and oh good god they're stuck inside, and it's gonna take a while for help to come.

and Bucky, sweet, horny, unsuspecting Bucky, just makes a little joke about knowing just how they could pass the time until then, wink wink. he crowds Steve back against the already narrow wall, starts sucking languid kisses into Steve's neck-- and Steve's frozen, breathing in quick shallow breaths that could be mistaken for gasps of pleasure, holding onto Bucky with an iron grip because he can feel himself spiraling into panic, heart racing wildly, eyes darting from wall to wall like he can see them rapidly closing in on him, suffocating him, squeezing him in--

and it takes a moment for Bucky to realize what's really going on, but when he pulls back and sees Steve so terrified, hyperventilating and about ten seconds away from passing out, he switches into Protective Boyfriend mode like *snaps fingers*

he's like, "sweetheart, what's wrong?", and the second Steve gasps "out, I need to get outta here, now", Bucky springs into action and pries the elevator's door open with his bare hands, helping Steve climb out (the next floor was already into view) and following suit.

of course they're gonna talk about it (and realize that they should maybe stop hiding their respective fears from each other), and from then on... yep, they stick to stairs <3

[thatonegayship]

I loved the cowboy comic so much that I wrote a oneshot for it. https://archiveofourown.org/works/50934235 🥺 your art is BEYOND amazing, ty for the food

INCREDIBLE!!!!!

[lee-blogs]

Still packing stuff and now i'm looking for a box for this.

My dad and i made it a few years ago for halloween, probably 2015/16 if i'm remembering right. It's made from a lays can, a wipes container from his work, and paper maché. I don't remember what the wires and front metal bits are from, but the middle actually lights up! It has one of those long battery-powered emergancy lights in it and some colored tissue paper