#this is really important don't fall into the far left and far right are the same idéologie

[beatrice-otter]

I’ll be honest, when one party’s aiding and abetting the genocide and the other’s outright gonna kill all my friends, I don’t really care if the fascists “win”. They’ve won already.

You know who would be delighted to hear that? Trump and Putin. The US far right and the Russian government have poured lots of time, effort, and money over the last decade+ into convincing US leftists and liberals that things are hopeless, there's no point in even trying to make things better, and the Democrats and Republicans are functionally interchangeable. They do this because one of the easiest ways for them to win is if the left gives up and stops trying. Every person on the left they can convince to give up in despair brings them closer to complete control. Defeatism on the left actively supports victory on the right.

I think your statement is wrong on a number of levels, both factual and emotional. It comes from not understanding what the actual options are for the US government and the President specifically, either at home or abroad. And it will allow actual fascism to flourish and make the world far worse than it is now.

On an emotional level, the way to address this is to stop doomscrolling. Stop focusing on the worst things happening in the world. Don't ignore them! but don't let them consume you. Start looking for the things that are going well. Find places in your community that you can get involved in making things better. Even if it's only on a small scale like volunteering in a soup kitchen or homeless shelter, it will help you realize that you aren't helpless, that there are things that can be done to make the world a better place. Stay informed about things on a local, national, and international level, but limit how much time and attention you give to things that depress you that you can't affect. Instead of sitting there thinking about all the ways the world sucks and how awful things are, look for things you can do that are productive, and then do them. You'll feel better and you will have made your corner of the world a little better. And you will be a lot less likely to unintentionally fall into the despair, nihilism, and passivity that the fascists want you to be consumed by.

Always remember that the worlds problems are not resting solely on your shoulders, or solely on America's shoulders, and neither is the hope of fixing them. Everyone has things that we can do to make the world a better place, but there are also things that are beyond our control. We can control what we do; we cannot control what others do. We can and should try to make the world a better place, but focusing on the things we can't change has no positive benefits. Focusing on things we can't change accomplishes two things: it makes you feel bad, and it stops you from doing the things you actually can do to make things better. Neither of these things is good for you or anyone else. Look for things you can do and do them. Keep informed on the things you can't change, but don't focus on them.

On a factual level, let's look at "aiding and abetting genocide," shall we?

First, it's important to remember that the US President is not the God-Emperor Of The World. The US government has limits to what it can and can't do in other countries, and both legally and practically. If the US wants to intervene in a problem in another country, there are a variety of things we can do that boil down to basically four categories. It's a lot more complex than this in practice, of course, but in general here are the categories of things we can do:

Send in the troops. Invade, either by ourselves or as part of a NATO or UN operation. (Or maybe just send in a CIA wetworks team to assassinate the head of state.) I hope you can see the moral problems with this option, and also, we've done this a shitton of times over the course of the 20th Century and pretty much every time we've done it, we've made an already awful situation worse. On a moral level, it's pretty bad, and on a practical level, it's worse. Sure, we could stop the immediate problem, but what then? Consider Afghanistan and Iraq. We got rid of Saddam Hussein and the Taliban, and everything went to shit, we spent twenty years occupying Afghanistan with pretty much nothing to show for it. (The Taliban is back in control of Afghanistan.) Things were worse when we left than when we arrived. So this option is pretty much off the table (or should be).

Diplomatic pressure. Now, the thing is, they're a sovereign nation, they don't have to listen to us if they don't want to. We have a lot of things we can leverage--including financial aid--but the only way to force them to do what we want is to invade and conquer, and that only works temporarily. Since we can't force, we have to persuade. This requires us to maintain our existing relationship with the country in question, and possibly strengthen it, because that relationship is what we're leveraging to try and influence them to do what we want them to do. If we do not maintain our relationship, they have no reason to listen to us.

Cut ties and go home. Break off any existing relationship and support, loudly proclaim that they're awful and doing awful things and we wash our hands of the whole situation. This keeps our own hands lily-white and pure, but it also means we have zero leverage to work on any kind of a diplomatic solution. They have no reason to listen to us or care about what we think. We can pat ourselves on the back for doing the right thing, but we destroy our own ability to influence anything. Not just now, but also in the future. Let's say the current crisis ends, and then ten years later there's another crisis. If we want to have any effect then, we would have to start from square one to start building a relationship. Cutting ties would be great for making Americans feel better about ourselves, and there are times when it's the only option, but it should be a last resort. If there is any hope of being able to influence things for the better this will destroy it at least temporarily.

Cut ties and impose sanctions. Break off any existing relationship and support, loudly proclaim that they're awful and doing awful things, but also use the might of the American economy to isolate and punish them. We've done this a lot over the 20th Century, too, and it has never actually resulted in the country in question buckling down and toeing the line we want them to. What happens is the sanctioned country has an economic shock (how long it lasts and how bad it gets depends on a lot of factors) and then pulls themselves back together economically, except this time they're more self-sufficient and less reliant on international trade and financial networks. They tell themselves that America is evil and the cause of all their problems, and so not only do they not listen to us, they actively hate us. And they have fewer international relationships, so fewer reasons to care about what the international community thinks about them. So they're most likely to double down on whatever it is they're doing that we don't like. This one is completely counterproductive and utterly stupid. It's great for making Americans feel better about ourselves, but if we actually care about being able to use our influence for good (or, at least, to mitigate evil) this option shoots us in the foot. It encourages other nations to do the very thing we're trying to stop them from doing.

So, with those four options in mind, both option one (invasion/assassination) and option four (sanctions) are off the table for being immoral and counterproductive. That leaves "breaking our relationship and going home" and "using diplomatic pressure" as our only two viable options.

Biden has chosen option two, diplomatic pressure. Yes, he and our government have continued financial support for Israel ... but with strings attached. They have put limits on it that have never been put on any US foreign aid before. They have taken legal steps to lay the groundwork to target Israeli settlers (i.e. Israeli citizens who confiscate Palestinian homes and businesses). We've been hearing reports for months that Benjamin Netanyahu (Israeli Prime Minister, and a far-right-wing demagogue) hates Biden's guts, because Biden is pressuring him to stop the genocide and work towards peace. Biden is maintaining the relationship, and he's using that relationship to try and influence things to curb the violence and pave the way for a just peace settlement of some sort. Biden has also mentioned the possibility of a two state solution where Palestine becomes its own completely separate country. That's huge, because up until this point the US position has always been that Israel is the only possible legitimate nation in that territory. If Biden stopped US support for Israel, it wouldn't force Israel to stop what it's doing ... but it would let them ignore us. It would remove any leverage or influence we might have.

Biden's hands aren't clean. But the only way for them to be clean would be to also give up any chance of influencing the situation or working to protect Palestinians now or in the future. Only time will tell if it works, but I personally would rather have someone who tried and failed than someone who didn't even try. You might disagree about whether this is the right course of action, and there's a lot of room for honest disagreement about the issue (there's a lot of nuances that I'm glossing over or ignoring). But please do acknowledge that Biden isn't supporting Israel because he supports genocide; he's doing it so that he can continue to maintain diplomatic pressure on Israel to stop the violence.

Which brings us back to "aiding and abetting genocide." Trump is not like Biden. Trump is good friends with Netanyahu and backs Israel to the hilt. Trump thinks that all Arabs are terrorists (and all Muslims are terrorists) and genuinely believes the world would be a better place with them dead. Biden is continuing to support Israel, but using that support as influence to get them to stop or slow down. Trump would be using that influence to encourage them.

And those are the two choices. Someone who is trying to curb the genocide, and someone who actively supports it.

I really hope you can see the significant and substantial difference between those two positions.

But let's say that you're right and Biden's policy towards Israel and Palestine is every bit as bad as Trump's would be. If there was nothing to choose between them on foreign policy grounds, there would still be a shitton to choose between them on domestic policy grounds. You admit that the right wants to kill your friends, and yet you don't seem to think that stopping them from killing your friends might be a good thing to do.

"We can't save Palestinians, so we might as well let Republicans destroy the rights, lives, and futures of LGBTQ+ people, women, people of color, people with disabilities, poor people, non-Christians, and anyone else they don't like." "We can't save Palestinians, so why bother to try to save the people we might actually be able to save." "We can't save Palestinians right now, so there's no point in trying to build up a longer-term political bloc that might drag US politics to the left over the long run."

Do you get why there's a problem with that line of thought?

[cy-cyborg]

Forgetting your character is disabled isn't a "good representation" flex: Writing Disability Quick Tips

[ID: An image with “Writing Disability quick tips: Forgetting your character is disabled isn't a good representation flex” written in chalk the colour of the disability pride flag, from left to right, red, yellow, white, blue and green. Beside the text is a poorly drawn man in red chalk looking down confused at his leg, one is drawn normally, the other is drawn to resemble a basic prosthetic. He has question marks above his head. /End ID]

For a while, I was involved in the booktok and Tik Tok writing communities, specifically parts of the community focused on more diverse books and authors. During this time, I noticed a reoccurring pattern when people were highlighting stories featuring disabled characters, or even promoting their own books, and that was how often people would say "I kind of forget they have [insert disability here] because they're such a badass."

The intention behind this statement is (usually) good, with people trying to show that their disabled characters are self-sufficient and don't fall into the tired old sad/helpless disabled person trope, however, you can - and very much should - do that without erasing your character's disability. If you find yourself forgetting your character is disabled, or your beta and pre-release readers are commenting about forgetting it, then there's a good chance that's exactly what you've done - and as a disabled person myself, if I see that statement being used in your marketing in particular, it's a giant red flag and a sure fire way to make sure I give the book in question a skip.

Remember, disabilities (especially major ones) are a part of your character's identity, and they're important regardless of the character's personal relationship with it. Even if your character doesn't specifically identify with the label of disabled or doesn't really care that much, it's should still be impacting their daily life, even in small ways. If you're finding yourself forgetting about a major part of your character's identity, it might be a good idea to check and make sure their disability is having an impact on the character.

I see this comment most often with amputee characters, and to me, it's a pretty consistently good indication that the author has treated their character's prosthetic as a cure rather than the mobility aid it is. It's far from unique to amputees, mind you (I talked about this a lot when I was discussing the character of Toph from Avatar), but it's when I tend to see it the most. Remember that mobility aids and other forms of assistive technology and assistive magic (if it's a fantasy story) are just that: they're aids, they assist, they shouldn't be cures.

Of course, this wasn't unique to Booktok, I've seen it on nearly every other social media site with a writing and book-focused community at some point, but Tik Tok was just where I spent the most time and it seems to be where I see the most people specifically gloating about it.

[jemandrr]

With manifest v3 approaching at depressing speed, i pray to the gods that firefox adopts more chromelike feature/UI options.  Like drastically lower the minimum custom tab width to support the range that chrome supports, and being able to run personal browser extensions without also using the less stable dev build.

I’m sure there’s more, but I feel like there’s a timer cutoff fast fast approaching and not much sign (that I’m aware of) of Firefox actively making an effort to catch chromium users by expanding features (or, in the cases listed, simply enabling some values that are literally already coded and accounted for - both of these things are possible in official firefox buiilds, just not in the settings for normal firefox).  

Like, don’t just wait for your competitors to do bad, also put effort into qol and providing a variety of UI options to completely whittle out snares of little conveniences and utilities people are used to.  Privacy and control of your browsing experience are important, but it shouldn’t (and won’t, because face it, people are creatures of habit) just win by default for everyone on that merit alone. There’s nothing I’m aware of stopping them from having easily customizable settings to create chromelike experiences in terms of like...Google owning all the features of Chromium (in the first place, Chromium is open source too).  Especially since the above two are still maintained features, just not enabled by default.

I’m sure if you poll a lot of chromium users you could find a lot more features to implement, many of which are probably already supported, just inconvenient to access. 

Another feature that I’ve seen some people try to fix on a personal level is how firefox’s ‘remember your last session’ is a lot wonkier than Chrome’s.  Since it has one and it just doesn’t work as well, I presume there are more things in the way than the other issues, so I set it aside for the end.  I don’t really remember what’s different, I think it doesn’t save as long, isn’t as consistent?  I just remember getting frustrated with it (among other things) when I was seeing if I could make the jump to Firefox early.  Ultimately, without manifest v3 here yet, the privacy tradeoff isn’t good enough for me to bear the massive UX decrease, and while adblock is too important for me to hold off forever (transition starts next month and is supposed to finish in 6 months), I’m really not looking forward to it after I gave firefox a fair month of trial earlier this year.

On a mostly unrelated note: Edge for some ungodly reason has it so that Alt-Tab goes through individual tabs in a window by default.  This is a setting, but literally why.  Literally who asked for this to be enabled by default.

And yes I know open source, but these issues have all been brought up by way better devs than an amateur like me, so I’m fairly certain they’ve specifically been ruled against, nor am I qualified to manage my own version of it anyway.  And maybe I’m treating firefox contributors too much like a collective who would actively make decisions to increase usability to migrating laypersons to improve crossover and retention, but I’m mostly just venting and frustrated and not expecting anything of it so

Also: If anyone tells me to write my own css to customize stuff like the amount of vertical/horizontal space a tab takes up, you’re losing sight of what normal people can/will do for basic UX.

[rui-drawsbox]

remembering the most memorable mc's (with canon appearences) from the otomes i played

all of them are phone games btw. and looong rambling about the games after the cut!

Mystic messenger has been in my radar since i was in elementary school but i played it for the first time after the spanish traslation came out (2017 i think?) Seven shaped my type in such a specific way that im not really sure why loved him so much (it was the whole "he loves you in every route" stuff). I like a lot the default mc, most of the fandom did and that was enough to won me over

Rosa is top tier protagonist tbh, Tears of Themis has really good story and characters (as far i played, not a lot but i enjoyed it) The reason i'm not that much of a fan is bc the game is expensive asf and not very free to play friendly. You're either lucky or have a big wallet with the gacha

i miss my wife man(Marius)

Ephemeral has to be one of the best free to play otomes i've played tbh (if my memories aren't tricking me, it's been years) Good artwork, good storyline, good characters and as far i remember you can unlock one chapter of the character route per day (mabye two days, idk) and the mc's background has an important role in every route (she's a zombie! she's pretty now but eventually will fall apart, aaaaand her story gets expanded in one of the routes!) ((shes also adorable)) There's also a sequel, if you wanted more of the boys! never finished it but i'd recommend it

Honorable mentions! Huellitas Mágicas is a great game! has a really good cast with well fleshed arcs for all the characters, even the scondary ones! The game shines more for the development of *all* the characters rather than just the protagonist/ml. The main theme is overcoming insecurities! Each love interest has a different way of helping our (very insecure) protagonist and helping different characters with their own struggles :DD

10/10 i recommend this game if you want something cute and can be finished in a few hours, if i remember right. It also has a sequel! with like- 12 new love interests, also never finished it bc i didnt found a guide that worked for me but ñek

A3! is my canon event as a gacha player. Discovered the english/global server, tried it and got bored, left it for a few months, tried it again and fell in love, noticed the game was going to shut down bc low sales -HAHA :(-. This is not a otome btw, this is here bc Izumi has to be one of my favorite protagonists in gacha games ever

last but not least! Obey me! Shall we date? oh dear, what have they done to you :(. The original had intense powercreep to force you to pull cards -multiple times bc that makes them stronger- and even now, the company showed a lot of favoritism to some characters, leaving others to dust bc they don't make the same money. Not to say, they released a new game with the same cast and new main story (ignoring all what happend before). And let me say: THEY LITERALLY WANTED TO KILL THE ORIGINAL GAME.

Nightbringer might be a decent game but i don't trust the devs anymore, i still remember what happend with Asmo's birthday right after the release, and honestly i don't want to sit there watching how they disrespect my favorite characters again and again and again. Loved the characters hated the devs. 5/10 you can play it if you want but i don't recommend spending money on it, it's not worth it, just search #obey me here in tumblr and enjoy the amazing fanworks that i can assure you have a lot more love than the game itself

i miss my wife man (mammon and levi)

[quijicroix]

So let's clear even more things up because this is ALSO MISINFORMATION.

First and foremost, LFI isn't "far Left" it's Left (not my opinion the Board of state's opinion).

Second ,the antisemit thing in the Left was orchestrated largely by the media* ,because they are ANTI ZIONIST and Pro Palestine and never made concessions about it. Yes there is still some traces of antisemitism in the left, as in every other french party but trust me this party is the least bad about it (from what I read, Jewish scholars say its more a disinterest with the question of antisemitism on the side of the left) (and it support Muslim's rights ... in France it's a big deal because Islamophobia is really bad)... also if you think being pro Palestine is antisemitic there is nothing I can do for you (and fuck u).

*A lots of this misinformation is spread by a media conglomerate. Where a lot of very big media were bought by a far right billionaire (Vincent Bolloré). So a lot of french media ends up spreading his Far Right ideas (a bit like Fox News) and lies about the Left to push his agenda even more.

Also YEY WE WON the "no one win" is a centrist position that the president tries to advocate for in order to make an alliance with the right and far right (also not my opinion, still the Board of state's opinion) . We even won more seats that the president at some elections. In normal circumstances we would deserve a leftist prime minister but Macron is a bitter little bitch.

(Main source: Histoire politique de l'antisémitisme en FranceDe 1967 à nos jours ,Alexandre Bande, Pierre-Jérôme Biscarat, Rudy Reichstadt 2024)

(cool media to read : Blast, Mediapart, contretemps or Le Monde it is okayish for general info)

too many people on my dash celebrating the French election. yes, the far right didn’t win, but I need everyone to understand how terrible the far left party that DID win is. it wasn’t the better option, it’s only a different extremism - and currently they’re the candidates who hate Jews openly even louder. thing are going to get worse for Jews in France. please listen before you celebrate something only for being “left.”

.

[essenteez]

𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑 || yunho

"falling in love with your best friend feels like eighth deadly sin."

"And if you really think that it's an obsession, don't worry." He spoke again, this time his voice was hoarse as he struggled to speak, his thumb and eyes now wandering around your half opened lips. "I'll take all of it."

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬 : You made a tough decision that left you absolutely devastated. Falling in love with your best friend was unacceptable. You got to leave. The method was slowly vanishing from Yunho's life until he would get used to your abstance. Deep down, a voice kept telling you it was the right choice. However, Yunho never meant to let you go as he stood in your door on one rainy spring evening, demanding an explanation.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : Yunho × (f)reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : Angst, smut

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : explicit language, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f!receiving), tongue fuck, anal fingering, ass smacking, missionary, deep penetration, pet names

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 : 6k

Is it possible to feel like your decision, at the same time, is the best and the worst? As if you’re attempting to go both ways, feeling like your body is ripping apart.

You asked some of your friends about it, desperate for a helpful answer.

"Depends.'' they always shrugged, which only meant they had the same idea about it as you did. Read as none.

In the beginning, you thought your approach to the problem would be the best solution for both him and yourself. However, the more time had passed, the more it all felt like the most fanciful of tortures.

Nothing had happened between you two, nothing deep enough that you could hold on to. So why, why did you keep failing to convince yourself that everything you went through was for the best. Was it because of guilt that was eating you alive whenever he looked hurt by the distance you had been widening for the past four months? Or because that was a normal reaction after sacrificing something important for a better cause? You were doing that for both of you, especially for him. Your intentions were good. Why wasn't it working?

And now there you were, completely frozen, face to face with him in the late spring evening as he suddenly banged on your door, ten minutes after you ignored his text once more.

You were now staring at the upset man in front of you. Due to shock, you couldn't look away. You allowed his eyes to burn into you.

He was drenched from the pouring rain outside, standing at your door that you should've never opened. His expression and posture reminded you of a wild animal that was about to attack you.

Your hand trembled on the knob as you contemplated slamming the door in his stoic but serious face. All you wanted to do was crawl under your bedsheets to hide for the rest of your miserable life.

You were wrong from the very beginning. You didn't put on any sacrifice. You've been running away like a coward, and at that very moment, you were about to receive your punishment.

"We need to talk, don't you think?" The jaw muscles tensing up under his skin as he almost hissed the words out.

You had to get away from him, as far as possible. Far away, so it was easier for you to breathe again. It was time to dig through the long list of excuses that, to be honest, you were running out of.

"I was actually getting ready to leave for a night out with girls, so can we…"

His index finger pointed in your face, which stopped you from continuing the poor act.

"This is the only chance I'm giving you to explain what's happening, (y/n). If you close this fucking door on me…" he hesitated but the power in his voice didn't weakened, "you'll never see me again."

The breath abruptly left your lungs. You swore your heart stopped for a second just to restart its beating with double the speed. You heard your blood pumping in your veins as the inner panic unleashed from his words that were like a magic spell.

There was no bluff in his words. He didn't mean to scare you, despite him knowing you were vulnerable for empty threats like that. The warning was absolutely backed up. You could see it by the way he stood there before you, how he clenched his fists, the way he looked at you with devouring anger in his brown eyes.

No doubt, you crossed all possible lines. And you had no idea how to handle the consequences. You knew one thing, you'd rather die than never see him again.

"What do you mean?" You still tried, wishfully thinking he spoke about something else.

No answer came your way. He simply passed you by and stormed inside your apartment. You were too scared to protest, not after the eyes he gave you before walking in.

You slowly closed the door, in need of every second to gather all the shreds of courage you had in you. There wasn't much.

Somewhat ready to get eaten alive by the unbearable remorse, you finally turned around. However, he disappeared from your eyes' reach.

"Yunho…"

"You still have some of those spare clothes I left once after a party?" He yelled from what you realized was your bedroom. "I'm totally soaked."

The last thing you cared about now was wet stains on your wooden floor, spreading from the door through the living room up to your bedroom and glistening in the weak lamp light.

You couldn't form a word, every sound was caged in your throat. The anxiety began its biggest harvest inside you. You felt all the strength leaving your body. All you could muster up was standing on your two feet in the middle of your living room, and that alone was impressive in your current state.

You were registering his steps in the other room. Yunho walked into the bathroom to get rid of the wet clothes. He spoke to himself about how nice that the dryer was there. Then he reentered the bedroom and next you heard nothing but his loud sighs.

"Come here." His voice had little volume to it, but the depth of its tone resonated in your ears and echoed in your whole being. The command was crystal clear and sent a set of sharp shivers down your spine.

You let your feet lead you to the doorframe of your room. However, you stopped them there.

He was sitting on your bed, aggressively rubbing the towel on his wet hair. He wore his plain black T–shirt and pair of gray sweatpants you stored in your drawer after he forgot it months ago. He looked like he had just walked out of the shower.

"Do you hate me?" He asked suddenly, still not looking at you. "Maybe I scared you with something I said or did?"

You wanted to refuse, feeling your heart cracking even more, but no sound left your dry mouth.

He, on the other hand, had a lot to say.

"Did I do something wrong, hmm? Cause I've spent three months going back and forth to all our meetings, and I genuinely don't know what that would be." He laughed bitterly, still drying his thick black hair.

You felt like shrinking while the guilt that kept growing towered over you unforgivably. You had seen Yunho angry before but never at you. Why were you so stupid to think it would never reach you after all you had done?

A tint of sadness invaded his chords, "You suddenly started to avoid me, mumble something under your nose instead of answering me, or you have been straight up ignoring me. You don't pick up my calls or respond to my texts and if you do it's always the same shit 'I'm busy, will call you later' which is bullshit cause you never do, (y/n)."

The tears showed up in your eyes, and you bit your lip to stop them from pouring out like a tidal wave.

He noticed it. The hand with a towel dropped on his legs.

"I don't know, did someone tell you we can't be friends or make you feel bad about it?"

Yes. Me. You cried inside your jumbled mind.

"No." You uttered, swallowing your tears.

"Then what?" He urged, aggressively tossing the towel aside after he turned it into a damp ball. Now, all his attention was paid to you, and you felt bare under his eyes.

"I don't know what to tell you." You whispered, the lump in your throat only grew.

"The truth, (y/n)." He begged. "If you don't want to be friends anymore, then fine, I can't force you. But after all this time and memories we've made, I think I deserve to hear a reason behind your decision. Not to mention everything was fine 'till Hongjoong's birthday."

Him, now linking the dots, made you feel as icy needles ruched in your blood, tearing your veins.

Something did happen at your friend's birthday party. One innocent game, alcohol untying people's mouths, and you ended up begging God to help you erase that night from your head.

You thought you kept your composure after drunk Bona spilled her crush on your best friend. This one sentence that she sang toward him smashed the glass of denial and released all the spirits of truth. The realization hit you like thunder, and the effects never left with time.

After that, you slowly, nor drastically, began walking away. Your behavior should not have been seen as related to that party's events.

If it was so clear to Yunho, was it obvious to everybody else?

Although he was right.

What were you thinking? It is Yunho, we're talking about. He would never leave a problem untouched when he saw one. There was nowhere to run and hide now, and it never had been.

You reached your hand to the light switch and let the room get embraced by darkness. There was no option for him to see the shame on your face when you would be telling him the issue that tormented both of you.

He didn't say anything, handing you the mic.

You walked inside the room and slid to the wall, calling on it for support. You were placed in front of him but at a safe but far distance.

"I love you." You confessed, shaking like a leaf. "I don't know what is happening, but I know I want you so much. Every inch of me craves for you, and I lost all control over my own self when it comes to you to the point I can't sleep at night, eat, or think straight. I've never felt like this before, about anyone. And we're best friends. I have no right…" The guilt caged your voice.

The silence on his side was crushing. That was the end. You had nothing to lose.

You took a deep breath, "That's why I've avoided you and purposely ignored you. I have to stay away, Yunho. For both of our sakes."

You heard him taking a few deep breaths.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" Somehow, his voice bore the accusation.

"I was scared of rejection." You chuckled at your miserable position. "The girls laughed that I sounded absolutely obsessed when I told them about this. They said they were only joking, but I started wondering and got scared. What if I am? You asked if you scared me with something. You didn't. I'm scared of myself. Because…no one sane acts like that. No one sane falls in love with their friend."

As you finished the confession, you dared to look his way. Your eyes got used to the dark, and you managed to see his darkened features.

The left side of his face was slightly illuminated by the dim light coming from the living room. You were watched intensively as he was eyeing you up.

His upper body was leaned forward, his arms resting on his spread knees. He looked…disappointed? Angry? You couldn't really tell. However, his deep breathing betrayed that the chaos you let out in indeed affected him.

The question was how would he accept what you brought upon him.

"I'm sorry." You breathed out on the edge of crying. You felt awful by ruining your amazing friendship. "Truly."

He submerged his finger in his damp fuzzy hair and then proceeded to wipe his face. He seemed deep in thought. You watched how he stroked his thighs a few times before standing up.

"Yunho…" you gulped, seeing him closing the distance between you.

He was getting dangerously close.

"Please, stop."

The man listened to your command. Still, he halted only half a meter from you. Yunho gave you a second to calm down, let your guard down, therefore you had no time for reaction as his arm suddenly reached out for your hand, grabbing your wrist firmly, and began pulling you close to him.

You quietly whimpered, trying to twist your hand out of his grasp, but there was no use. He mercilessly dragged you until your bodies met.

You couldn't look up, not with all the panic thriving inside you. However, he did not mean to stop. You felt his finger underneath your chin, and suddenly, you found yourself looking in his eyes that shone with a new light in the dark room.

"I would never reject you." He let out a firm but gentle whisper. "What do you think that I came here for? To fight for you."

The bangs of his wet hair tickled your forehead. He stood so close to you like he only ever did in your intrusive thoughts and uncontrolled fantasies. You had no choice but to let his scent of cologne and rain embrace you from all sides.

"And if you really think that it's an obsession, don't worry." He spoke again, this time his voice was hoarse as he struggled to speak, his thumb and eyes now wandering around your half opened lips. "I'll take all of it."

The touch of his lips was more than you imagined. You whimpered into his mouth, at which he responded with a smile. You fought not to push him away from the intensity of your surprise. Everything was happening too fast and not how you had seen it in your head for uncountable times when thinking about the face-off.

Yunho kissed you slowly as if he was giving you time to get used to his touch and his taste. He let go of your wrist, and after gently putting your arm around his neck, he carefully wrapped your waist. His other hand moved from your chin on the side of your head. The embrace tightened.

You couldn't say you just allowed him to pull you close to him. You were like a ragdoll. The rollercoaster of severe emotions took away your will to move. He could’ve done anything he wanted to do to you, placed you anywhere he needed you to be. You were completely frozen.

Yunho was considerate of your state and didn’t want to push you. He broke the kiss and pulled his head back to look at you with a slight smile that showed understanding.

"Do you want me to leave you alone? If you need time and talk about it once you’re ready, I’ll wait." He assured you, the gentleness in his tone making your heart flutter. "I’ll wait as long as you need me to."

"I– I don’t know." You stuttered, no volume to your weak voice. "W– what would you want?:

"Can I be indecently honest?"

You nodded, the hope sparking in your heart.

"I want to stay. I missed you so much. For the past months, whenever we met, I felt like you were light years away despite you standing right beside me. So I want to kiss all your doubts and fears away so we both never feel that way again. I want to hold you close, taste you. I want to relearn my name as you moan it all night long. I want you. I've wanted you for so long." He flooded you with the confession that held much more fire and confidence than yours from a minute ago.

You trembled in his arms, grabbing more onto his shirt at his back as he wiped away a single tear that managed to escape and roll on your redden cheek. It felt like a dream, and you felt the familiar anxiety of the moment you would have to wake up as it happened all the time before.

After all these months of pain from keeping yourself away from the man you've been falling in love with, feeling like he was slipping through your hands with your own help, you were a shadow of a woman. You were a ruin.

"What’s your decision?"

But the will to fix everything that was broken smoldered inside you, and you felt that with the right blow of wind, it would turn into impressive flames.

"Stay."

He quickly groaned at your allowance, and your faces got close again. Both his arms now embraced your waist and back.

"Of all the things I just said, which one do you want me to do the most?" He asked, his lips brushing yours.

"Everything." You breathed out without hesitation. Experiencing the long yearning, you needed to feel everything, from innocence to obscene.

Your lips interlocked again, but this time, nothing tamed you for kissing him back as you had always desired.

With every breath between, the kiss was getting hotter, wetter. Your tongues twirled in a wild dance, teeth hooking on each other's lips. With quiet whimpers and moans, you drove each other crazy.

His damp hair was tangled in your inpatient fingers that massaged the back of his head and neck. He moaned in your lips from the affection. The sweet adlip instantly woke up the aching between your legs.

You felt the wall behind your back again. One of his arms left your waist and was placed above your head.

He broke the kiss, "You really thought that Bona's confession meant anything to me?" He panted, his half closed eyes never leaving your lips.

So he found the answer. He did mention he studied all three months of your random change.

"I didn't know what it meant to you. I was too scared to think about it. It just made me realize my feelings for you, and I feared for our friendship."

"And your solution to save our friendship was to stay away?"

"I'm sorry."

He clenched his jaw, and that alone was enough to double your already crazy heart rate. His eyes were pitch black, his brows frowned.

"It makes me really angry." He groaned. "To think your first thought was that I would reject you. That you asked yourself that tough question and saw no hope. That you went for the wrong answer. As if I ever gave you a reason to doubt."

"I'm sorry."

"It's me who's sorry, (y/n)."

You moaned at the speed he attacked your lips again. He didn't graced them for long with his unsatisfied affection as he moved onto your jaw, then sensitive neck.

You felt how his body pinned you to the wall. With the power he pushed into you, he picked you up. You were gasping for air from the waves of pleasure shaking your body as his hungry mouth kissed, licked, and bit on your skin.

"You always smell so fucking good." He cooed sultry, placing his hands under your ass, forcing you to put your legs onto his hips.

He pushed himself with you in his arm off the wall and began walking you two to your bed.

You were released from his tight embrace and let him push you on the sheets. With aw, you watched him remove his shirt, putting his beautifully shaped torso and abs on display.

"Now's your turn." He snarled.

His hands went down to your cotton, loose shirt, and ripped it apart with one pull. Your bare breasts bounced free. You only now remembered you had no bra on.

"Yunho–"

But he didn't care about your surprise. He just gently laid on your side, supporting his weight on his elbow. His chest rubbed on your right breast in a slow massage that had you wave underneath him.

"Goddamn it, (y/n)."

His hand embraced your neck, giving it a little squeeze. You watched it going down to your chest, between your naked breasts, and then lower on your stomach where his wrist twisted to go south. Now, you had his long fingers getting dangerously close to your throbbing folds.

You grabbed the sheets at the touch of his fingertip.

"Ahh.."

"I'm not the one who's getting soaked tonight." He smirked watching how your wetness spread underneath your leggings as his middle finger circled on your clit.

He wanted more, your loud moans too accompanying your flooding nectar. Two fingers decisively entered your pussy as the thumb worked on your pearl.

"Oh my…" you whined, arching your back.

To make your torture more difficult, he leaned his lips to your ear and began feeding your mind with the obscene.

"You're always so wet when I'm on your mind, kitten? Do your fingers fuck this dripping cunt like mine are now when your all alone?" He whispered, his breaths tickling your neck, "I can assure you, I walk hard all day because of you."

The image of him stroking himself fast, rough while moaning your name was a perfect way to bring you closer to the edge as his fingers now fucked you with a full speed.

"Yes." He grunted, satisfied with your whimpers and trembling pelvis. "Cum for me."

Yunho drank the sweetest sounds of euphoria from your lips. Your cute moans were like ambrosis for his ears. He craved for more, his soul, heart, and ego demanded more.

He sucked on the skin of your neck as his hand massaged the last ounces of orgasm from you.

"I dreamed of this so many times (y/n) – my fingers, all sticky and wet from your juices."

"Yunho…" you begged. "Please."

The yearning for him or his words along with skillful touch; you couldn't tell, but something was making you lose your sanity way too fast.

Yunho smug eyes began reading your needs. He just licked his lips before walking away to let the room bask in light again.

With the cover of the dark, you felt more secure. Now you laid there, feeling like there were hundreds of eyes watching you, even though the only person in the room with you was Yunho, who just nonchalantly stood there; one hand on the light switch, and the other, that just were inside you, on his sticked out tongue.

Unconsciously, you began closing your legs, putting hands over your chest, but he was quick to stop you.

He agility climbed on to you. Now you had his weight pinning you down, his slim pelvis between your thighs and his hands holding your hands about your head.

"Don't you even hide from me again." He warned you, looking you deep in the eyes.

His arm found its way under you, and with one pull, he moved you further up the bed before he raised himself and sat on his hills.

"I forgot to ask before ripping off your shirt," he smiled adorably, "but do you cherish your leggings?"

Knowing what was coming and feeling more than just excited about it, you shook your head.

Your soaked leggings and underwear shared the same fate as your shirt. With no hesitation, Yunho grabbed them in his fingers and ripped them apart.

You felt the cold licking your dripping slit, wishing it was that man's tongue.

"I had to turn the light back on." He grinned while studying your quivering folds. "I had to see it in detail."

His brow raised, and his eyes became absent as if they recalled something, a thought he cherished.

"I'm genuinely unable to count how many nights I imagined your taste." He voiced it. "How would you feel on my tongue. So soft and warm."

You shivered at those words. The way he said it, the way he watched you with almost worship… Yunho finally found himself on the spot he longed to be for many months.

"It's all yours." You whimpered.

He looked in your eyes again, searching for a bluff, but he was visibly relieved to see your genuine, needy expression.

"Put your pretty ass up for me, please."

You did what you were told, getting rid of the shirt, well now its shreds. Arching your back as your upper body stretched on the bed, you stuck your slightly circling butt towards him.

A gasp left your mouth as the smack landed on your plump cheek. It was sudden but more than welcomed.

"Somehow, I've always known you're filthy." He snickered, clearly glad of your reaction.

"There are a lot of things you have not found out about me yet." You uttered, biting your lip with a smile.

You flinched from another hit that left a stingy feeling and added another flood of your juices between your thighs. There was no option to not let the moan escape your chords.

"I can say the same about you." He growled as if you were about to learn something forbidden.

You felt how he grabbed your ripped leggings and slid it off your hips, down to your knees.

The warmth of his tongue almost made you cry. You grabbed the sheet between your teeth. Slow, but firm licks were meant to have you beg in a second. However, your taste was too much for Yunho to play the game of teasing any further.

He spread your cheeks and dived in deeper.

The man put his whole spirit to savor you with the way his tongue lapped on your folds, latched on your quivering core. He fed on your uninhibited wails that Yunho could swear were a balm to his heart that almost got broken today if you had not opened the door.

He now knew you were his, the same way he belonged to you. Completely. Equal in this healthy obsession.

The essence on his lips worked like the best aphrodisiac for his nature. He wanted to have you loud in pleasure, trembling in ecstasy. For a moment, he craved to control all over your being. Just so you could feel loved, desired, and perfect. So you could see yourself through his eyes.

His tongue found its way inside you. It was sudden, unexpected but more than appreciated.

"Ahh, yes." You hissed, the sheet ripping in your fists.

Yunho shifted his position to have better access to you. Your eyes rolled back at the depth he was penetrating you with. Long, skillfully muscle waved and curled within your walls.

His thumb began drawing circles around your upper hole. Gently, hesitant at first, but your appreciation for his tease made him brave enough to go inside.

With his tongue and thumb sunk inside, Yunho was at the finish of shaping a devastating orgasm for you.

Your face twisted with unbearable pleasure. Moans sent his way were full of gratitude and admiration for his mastery. For a few moments this man managed to make you feel like flying, see the stars above.

He abandoned your holes when he felt the last shreds of bliss left you. You fell flat on your bed, trying to bring yourself down on earth.

Yunho took his time to climb up your spine with juicy kisses, at the same time getting rid of his pants and underwear.

"Yunho." You called him between deep breaths to calm yourself down.

"Yes, beautiful?' He planted a kiss on your shoulder.

You touched his arm.

"Claim me."

He froze above you. You only felt his hot breath on the back of your neck. Somehow, it had you alerted.

You slowly turned on your back, still caged between his arms. His eyes were dark, full of unknown, to you, thoughts. Maybe what you needed from him sounded too much of a commitment. You confessed your feelings. You made him aware of your love. Yet…he didn't say anything back. Only that he wanted you.

"Will you?" You asked quietly, too scared to put any volume to not scare him away or worse, make him realize it was a mistake.

Still with this mysterious expression, he laid onto you, skin to skin. Your faces so close, you could see your reflection in his eyes.

"Like my life depends on it." He said into your lips, tone heavy with sweet threat. "In fact, it does."

You interlocked in a kiss that felt like a seal to what just occurred rather than simple affection. He kissed you deeply, desperately, but most of all you sensed a gratitude.

His velvet hardness began grinding on your sensitive spot with subtle yet decisive moves, lubricating his length with your wetness in the process.

You broke the kiss from all the air leaving your lungs. He was hard, hot against your skin, begging to enter you. And your pussy cramped at the pleas, more violently each second.

"Please."

He put his forehead to yours. Took a few deep breaths before he finally said:

"I love you."

Only then he allowed himself to push inside.

The words you had wanted to hear for so long and the soul easing fullness have tears falling from your eyes. He groaned at your tightness that engulfed him and spasmed around him. The warmth and your nectars embraced him whole.

You gasped loudly as he moved further, concurring more inches of your inferior. Yunho was exactly how you imagined him to be. Long and thick, with popping veins that rubbed on your walls. You moaned, whined, and squirmed with every push and pull.

"Can I go faster?" He wiped your tears of joy away.

"Yes." You panted. "You can now."

After a slow pull, he pinned into you with power, having you gasp in sudden pleasure.

He leaned on the side, now nuzzling your ear.

"You're taking me so well. I knew you would." He whispered, and if all your nerves weren't already awakened, now they were.

The pace fastened. He was taking you, fully almost possessive. He went deep, attacking your sweet spot with even but strong hits. The sound you made bordered with sobbing.

He raised up on his knees, now straddling your leg. The other one ended up over his shoulder. Only when he re‐entered you, you realized why he chose such a position. He reached depths you didn't know anyone could.

"Fuck." You cried out.

Yunho fucked you however he felt fit, placing kissing on your inner thighs as he hugged your leg while doing it. He winded and whirled his hips as he thrusted inside your defenseless cunt.

The release was approaching with no mercy.

"I'm so close." You grabbed his muscular thigh with both hands.

"I know, baby. I know." He moaned as your walls' texture rubbed onto him even more now that you were almost orgasming. You cramped around him, sucking his width unforgivably.

"Fill me in, please. I need your cum inside me." You couldn’t help but beg when the speed and force he was obliterating you with was too overwhelming. You had to have him burst inside. It was what you mean by claiming you, owning you.

He cursed loudly and leaned over, shifting his weight on his arms.

"You have no idea what you've just started."

The new position allowed the man to put on even more speed and power, pushing you off the cliff, straight to the void of the most heavenly bliss.

The euphoria embraced you from all sides. A flow of your juices flooded his cock, making it harder, too hard to not to explode.

"Oh fuck, yes." He whined and soon joined you in ecstasy. He pumped inside with low grunts leaving his throat, and you melted over the feeling of hot load, every last drop nourishing every corner of you.

He slid out after a few soothing pushes, followed by his semen. Yunho didn't have to watch this physical proof he claimed you. He knew you all his. He just lowered down and caught your weak frame in a tight, warm embrace.

Both calmed yourselves down by inhaling your scents, so familiar yet so new.

His eyes when he finally landed at you were smiling, all dreamy. You knew what Yunho's happy face looked like, and it was all plastered on his features right now.

You felt like your heart was about to burst out of your chest at the sight. He was happy because of you. You made him this joyful.

"You love me." You slipped. The excitement and emotion didn't allow you to keep quiet.

He kissed you and kept smiling.

"You have no idea."

You didn't hide this time when Yunho watched you as if he learned your details by heart. You wanted him to see the woman and all her love she got for him.

"Come." He said and got off the bed. "We both need a long and hot shower."

"Soaking again?" You giggled lazily, admiring this Adonis of a man that now stood in front of you in all his glory. You bit your lips at the view of his glistening pride, knowing it all was for you to love and pleasure.

Seeing your eyes wandering all over him, Yunho couldn't help but smirk at your bluntness. He then leaned over to kiss your forehead.

"Better get used to it."

You realized how stupid you were to think you could live without his melodic laugh.

[thealbatrovss]

ghosts in the leaves // worst wolverine x reader

summary: you’ve been stuck in the void for years, and logan doesn’t even seem to care.

one shot: ANGST, then fluff of course. I love a sadass story with a happy ending. swearing lol. suggestive material. This is my favorite one I’ve written so far. Enjoy!!

word count: 1k+

masterlist

He was too busy drinking to notice your silent pleading.

You and Logan sat against the rocky wall of your hideout base. The rest of the group of forgotten heroes were planning the final showdown with Cassandra in the next room over.

They left the two of you alone, noticing the tension growing more and more intense. Logan tried to protest, but they shut him out. He wouldn’t stop grumbling to himself about it. That, you noted, hadn’t changed about him.

Wade would occasionally poke his head out from behind the wall, hoping the reunited couple would get back together already. He loved jumping into other peoples business, you noticed. He seemed like a troublemaker.

Johnny would’ve really loved this guy.

You still didn’t understand why Logan was refusing to talk to you. He looked like hell, but so did you. Did he even care?

You just wanted to wipe the blood from his suit and the dirt from his face. Tell him about the hell you’ve been through down here. Ask him about the hell he’s been through back home.

But Logan would rather gargle piss than talk to you at all. That, you were beginning to realize.

He wouldn’t even look you in the eye. He only looked at you when he first arrived. That familiar glow returned to him at that moment. You thought you saw the love of your life return to you right then and there, eyes and mouth wide open. But by the time you ran over to him, throwing your arms around his body, tears streaming down your face, he was pushing you off him and opening a bottle of bourbon.

You could see him fighting the urge to open another one. He balanced it on his hand, and spun the bottle on the floor like it was a game. Guess he won by the fake smile on his face as he placed the lukewarm drink to his lips.

“Are you going to talk to me? Or are you just going to keep drinking?”

He picked up another glass after downing the last one, licking his lips. “I don’t talk to ghosts.”

Your stomach dropped, like a stone in a pond. Your lips fell, a weight dragging them down. “Logan-”

His fists balled up, face turning red. “Don’t fucking say my name.” All the venom leaking from his mouth seemed to form a weapon meant for himself, but he kept aiming it straight at you. “Just don't.”

You held your head high. “Why not?”

“Because,” he took a long drink before continuing. “Your voice is drilling into my skull, that’s why. I don’t talk to ghosts and they don’t talk to me.” Logan shifted his body, facing away from you.

You closed your mouth, letting the words die inside. Instead, you watched the leaves fall from beside the open door.

The trees here never changed. They were stuck in a perpetual autumn. It was haunting to look at. You forgot there were other seasons sometimes. You missed the snow in winter. Icicles hanging from the roof of Xavier’s mansion. You missed the spring flowers and that early summer rain. All you had was autumn, and Logan had the rest. He didn’t seem to like any of it at all anymore.

The Logan you once knew and loved, if he saw you alive and well, he’d come running to you, holding you tight, whispering words of comfort.

This Logan though…He was tired. And angry. So angry. Grief radiated off every inch of him. It almost became a superpower on its own. You weren’t a stranger to that power. He kept you at a distance too, back when you first met.

You had the outline of his back memorized like the back of your hand. This was your Logan. He was just jaded now. Years of believing that you were dead and that he had failed not only his friends and family, but you, the most important person in the world to him, had changed him.

Down here, your one goal was to reach him. Well, you had accomplished that. But not in the way you had wished.

“If there’s any ghosts here, it’s you.” You said it without looking at him either. Just watched the leaves fall.

Logan shut his eyes tight, the veins in his neck growing stronger. His jaw loosened, the bourbon missing his mouth and spilling all over. “Fuck!” He cursed himself.

“Did someone wet the bed again?” Wade's red head popped its way into the room. “Jesus, you two look like you fucked with the lights off. Does this place even have lights? And have you made up yet? I’m sick and tired of this meeting and I wanna join in.”

He sure knew how to make an entrance. It was almost amazing how annoying he was. Again, Johnny and him would’ve gotten along. But Cassandra got to him first.

“Turn around and walk back in there before I pop that tomato of a fucking head of yours.” Logan spat, taking another swig.

Wade gasped, putting his gloved hand to his mouth. “I’d let you pop just about anything, Wolverine.” Before he could say anything more intrusive, Blade's hand grabbed his head, pulling him back behind the wall. Wade still kept ranting all the way back into the other room.

“I’m glad you have a friend.” You tried, shifting uncomfortably in your super suit. “I wouldn’t of made it if it wasn’t for my friends down here.”

And the thought of you. You wanted to finish with that.

“He’s not my friend.”

“Seems like he’s your friend.”

He shook his head, leaning against a rocky pillar. He wanted to keep the distance between you and him as far as possible. You were going to keep running towards him anyways.

“As soon as I arrived it was too late.” You started. “They were all dead.” You paused, letting the grief settle in. Logan sat there as still as a ghost. “I was going to find you before you found them. I'm so sorry you had to see them like that.” You let the tears flow this time. “But then the TVA- they got me. Said I killed one of their own a few days prior. Which is bullshit. But they didn’t care, and they sent me here. I’ve been trying to get back to you ever since. I'm sorry, Logan.”

It happened as quickly as he drank those bottles. He got up, wobbled a bit as he stood, and walked out the door, crushing autumn leaves under his feet.

The silence he left behind was worse than his venom.

Wade popped his head back in, the other four following as well. “We did it! Operation, Stealing Cassandra’s Wii hidden underneath their bed, is underway!”

“What’s under Cassandra’s bed?” Elektra questioned.

“Oh, all kinds of stuff.” He started counting on his fingers. “Video games, velveeta cheese, a bunch of those for some reason. Cowboy hats, pixie sticks, a signed dvd of The Green Lantern. Truly an evil monster, my god.”

Gambit leaned over to Laura. “Do you think one of my missing cards could be hidden under there?”

Laura ignored him, walking over to you, noticing your wet, red eyes. “Hey, are you okay? Where’s Logan?”

“I’d like to know the answer to that question too, Laura.”

Logan’s daughter nodded, squeezing your shoulder before going to look for the shadow of her father.

It was growing dark now. Night was here and all you wanted was to sleep. Maybe you’d wake up in Logan’s arms again and he’d pepper light kisses across your face, taking all those years without him away. Like they never even happened. Like you never lost anything or anyone.

It was still night out when you woke up. Wade's snores were keeping everyone else up, so they moved him outside. You walked by him as he was passed out in a pile of leaves, making your way towards the burning campfire.

Logan sat slumped over the smoke, chin cradled to his chest. You could’ve sworn you saw tears disappearing into the fire. But you didn’t want his dagger like words again, so you turned back around.

And then you heard your name.

It was whispered so softly, like a strong wind. You waited a few more beats, hoping to hear it again. And you did. His voice was strained. Calloused over like he had said your name so many times before that it hurt so bad every time you never said his name back.

But you did this time.

“Yes, Logan?”

“I was just thinking-” His voice was wavering, like he was on a tightrope, wondering when he’d fall off. “I was thinking about your birthday. I’ve missed so many of them.”

Your eyes glazed over, a well of spring water washing away the autumn you still adored. Before you could run to him, he was already there. Strong arms found their way around you. Those lips kissed every inch of your face. It was like returning home again.

“I’m so fucking sorry.” He was barely keeping it together. “I thought you were dead. And then I saw you and all I saw was another failure. I’ve failed you. You’ve been trapped here. And I didn't come to save you. All I did was punish you.”

“It’s okay.” You held him tight, but he held you tighter. “You didn’t know. You had to go on thinking everyone you loved was dead. Logan, you didn’t deserve that.”

He held your head, finally meeting your eyes with his own. “I love you.” He rarely said it. But he didn’t have to. You always knew. “And I’m sorry.”

“I love you too.”

“I’ll be sorry forever.”

“Then I will be too.”

A mix of sorrow and happiness clung to his face. He laughed, as if he was laughing for the first time. “You’re here. You’re not a ghost. I’m not a ghost.”

[wolfish-trickster]

You made your choice

Gojo x fem!reader

Part 2

Previous part

Word count: 2.4K

Summary: you asked Gojo who is more important to him, you or his bestfriend. He indirectly chose and now he's experiencing consequences of his own action (probably for the first time in his life).

Warnings: bad grammar (possibly), typos, angst, very little comfort

Taglist: @ilovebattinson @catobsessedlady @abcdefghijklmmopqrstuvwxyz @nanao4k

A/N: I recomend listening to this song while reading (was listening to it while coming up with the story, the song and the story aren't exact copies of eachother but the vibe is about the same) and to those who know me THE LINK IS SAFE TO CLICK I DIDN'T LINK IT WITH WHAT YOU THINK I SWEAR. Enjoy the reading 😊

"Hey, can I come over?"

"Dude, you were just here!"

"I know, I know. But I need a shoulder to cry on."

"Damn, that bad? What happened? You and Y/N had a fight or...?"

"Can I just come over?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll leave the door unlocked."

Geto Suguru has had a lot of weird moments with his best friend, but that phone call certainly was...something. No explanation, no joking around, just straight to the point.

About fifteen minutes later he heard his front door open.

"Satoru, did you learn how to teleport or something? We live an hour away from eachother," Geto joked before he could even turn around and see the state his friend was in. Disheveled hair, dry lips, red eyes. Something terrible must've happened.

"It's Y/N," was all Gojo said before he sat down at the dining table.

"Figured that much," replied Geto and took a seat next to him and waited. He knew Gojo. That man can't shut his mouth to save his own life. He'll spill everything sooner or later.

Gojo let his head fall on top of Geto's and sighed. Geto patted his fluffy white hair and kept on waiting. Good thing was they both sat right across a big window. Geto could count pine cones on the nearby trees while he waited for Gojo to open up.

It didn't take long.

"Y/N left."

"WHAT?!" Geto pushed the white head off of his shoulder and took Gojo by the shoulders. "What happened? What did you do?" He stared him in the eye.

Gojo just blinked. "I don't know! I don't think I did anything wrong," he looked oit the window again. A squirell jumped from one branch to another.

Geto rolled his eyes and turned Gojo's face back to his. "Satoru, people don't just up and leave. You must've done or said something that hurt her feelings. What did I tell you about comunication being-"

"Being the cornerstone of a good relationship, I remember," he put his hands on Geto's cupping his face. "We did talk. And I thought we came to a mutual understanding. Then I offered to cuddle with her and went to shower but once I walked out she was gone. All her things too..."

"Wow," Geto let go of his friend's face, "what a bitch."

"Right?" Gojo agreed and leaned back on his chair so far it was threatening to fall. "I don't understand. She never complained before, never said anything, then all of a sudden she pulls a stunt like that, throws a scene, slips into her selfhating thing again-"

"Wait, she what?" Geto asked confused. He has met you enough times to know you were very cheerful and life-loving person. What was Gojo talking about? Selfhatred?

"She has these moments,"he explained, "thinks she's too fat, then not curvy enough, thinks she's too basic to be with a guy like me, so on. When it happened the first few times i comforted her but even after all those years she still thinks of herself as less than and I'm too damn tired of it. I thought all of those negative thoughts would go away the first time I assured her I love her no matter what," he crossed his arms on his chest and looked out the window again. "I'm starting to feel like she's doing it for attention."

"Listen Satoru, maybe she's just extremely selfconscious and people like her need reassurance like that. Besides if she was really doing that for attention she wouldn't leave withoit a word. She would leave hints for you to find her and come beg her on your knees or something."

Gojo chuckled. "Suguru, you've got to stop watching Shoko's telenovelas."

"I'm a slut for drama."

A phone rang.

In a speed of light Gojo pulled out his phone hoping to see your lovely face. The screen was black.

Geto pulled out his ringing phone and picked up. "Well well, speak of the devil," he smiled.

Gojo couldn't hear what him and Shoko were talking about. He could only take hints from Geto's facial expressions and his occasional answers.

"What do you mean you have to cancel it? Oh. Okay. I understand. And did she tell you what-" his eyes got wide. "But wait, that's not- I didn't- Actually he's right next to me."

Gojo tried to get closer to hear what they were talking about but Geto jumped up and walked across the room.

"Okay. Okay, i'll ask him. No, that's fine. Alright. Take care, both of you. Bye," he hung up. Then slowly turned around to face Gojo now standing opposite him.

"Now you'll tell me exactly what had happened between you two. You said she caused a scene, what was it about?"

His mouth turned into neutral line, just like when you started this whole mess. "She asked me to stop seeing you. Can you believe that? Trust me, if I told her to stop seeing her friends all hell would break lose."

"Isn't that what happened when she asked you?" Geto pointed out the obvious double standard but Gojo wasn't listening.

"Didn't you hear what I just said? She wanted me to spend more time with her. Like, what does she want me to do? Make me and her morph into one being?"

"It is true that you've been spending a lot of time with me," Geto held his chin between his fingers in a thought. "But I don't get one thing. If you being away from her this often was a problem for her then she must've shown signs, not encourage you to come and spend time with me when she was too busy herself."

"About that," Gojo nervously played with his shades. "I might've over-exagarated that."

"Don't tell me..." Geto pinched the bridge of his nose.

"She wasn't always busy when I came here."

"Satoru!" He half shouted. "You always told me she was too busy and couldn't come! Why would you lie?"

"Because i felt trapped!" He yelled back. "I felt like I couldn't even breathe. Yes, being around has brought me so much joy but I missed the thrill of being free. Just being with you and Shoko and doing whatever. Now I just feel like I'm chained to something that I kinda want away from but also not," the entire time he spoke he was pacing back and forth. "I just wanted to feel like the old times."

"So in other words you miss the feeling of being single but you also like the benefits relationship gives you," Geto concluded. "I thought you were better than this."

"And I thought you would understand," Gojo turned his anger against his best friend who was calmly standing in the living room. "But wait, I forgot, you have no one," he mocked.

"Damn right I don't. Which makes me even more pissed off when I see how you treat your own relationship! Have you got any idea how much I envied you for having someone waiting for you at home and welcome you after a long day? Or just someone to be there for you in general?"

Gojo got silent. He didn't know. Geto never showed it.

Geto took it as his chance to try speak some sense into Gojo. "Listen, you only feel like this because you've never been in a relationship. Feeling trapped is normal, I think. What's important is that you love her and you're capable of changing to get her back, right?"

Gojo was just looking at him.

"Right?" Geto said a bit more panicked.

"I don't know!" Gojo exclaimed and Geto facepalmed. "I don't know how to choose between her and you."

"Is that what she asked? For you to choose between her and me?"

Gojo shook his head. "No, I think she just wanted me to spend less time with you."

"So she didn't out right prohibit you from hanging out with me, she only asked for you to stay with her more often," Geto was slowly but surely getting the whole picture.

"Something like that," Gojo shrugged.

Geto sighed. "You royally fucked up Gojo Satoru."

"No, really?" sarcasm dripped from his words. "I still think I did nothing wrong. She has no right to aks me to spend less time with you."

"She does actually. She's your girlfriend of what, three years?"

Gojo nodded.

"Three years and yet you place her beneath a best friend. How would you feel like if she had to choose between her best friend and you and she went for the friend?"

Suddenly, Gojo looked like it finally hit him. "I'd feel...terrible," he sat down on the chair. "But... but I didn't tell her I would choose you. Both of you mean so much to me."

"On the same level or a different one? Satoru, understand that the love for a friend and a love for a lover are two separate kinds of love. You not being able to distinguish between them caused you to be in this mess."

Geto walked over to where Gojo sat and towere over him. He put a reassuring hand on his wide back. "Let me ask you this: what do you want right now? To be with her?"

Gojo stayed silent. He didn' know what he wanted. He hated the fact that he can't have both a friend and a lover. Choosing one would mean losing the other in Gojo's eyes. He can't afford that. Not when both of his most treasured people made him so happy.

Geto took his silence as a no. "You know what I think? You didn't want to have her. You just wanted others to see you have her."

His words cut like a knife. Why? Why do his loved ones have to be this cruel? He only looked up from the floor to his best friends almost black eyes. His own baby blues were watery. A lump took place in his throat. With a horror he realised how weak he feels. One half of him already packed her things and walked away, he can't let the other half do the same.

"Do you hate me now?" He whispered, affraid if he will speak any louder he would cry.

Geto took a while. Then shook his head. "No Satoru, just dissapointed."

Gojo nodded and looked back down to the floor.

Few minutes passed. None of them said anything. After Gojo was completely sure he won't fall apart he spoke up. "Do you think I can fix this?"

"Hmm," Geto hummed and pulled out a chair to sit opposite him. "Fixing means returning to its original state. I don't think things will go back to normal."

"But, I don't want to lose her. I know I don't!"

"Then you must set your priorities straight."

"But-" Gojo looked into Geto's eyes again. "That would mean I will loose you and that's equally as bad."

Geto shook his head. "You won't loose me. I'll still be here. You can still come over and we can still hang out. It just won't be like before."

"And that's what I don't want," Gojo mumbled and crossed his arms again while leaning into the backrest.

"Truthfully, if I had a girlfriend as amazing as Y/N I would spend a lot of time with her and not you."

Gojo swore he could feel his heart crack. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs, "that it's only natural to pick your lover over your friends. Not always, of course, but often enough."

Geto lifted his head to see his friend pale as a ghost, his skintone could now rival with his hair. He immediatelly regreted what he said. "But as I said, even if that was the case, even if you chose her as your top priority, which you should've as a good boyfriend, then it wouldn't mean I would cease to exist. And if I get someone in the future and I do the same you won't cease to exist to me either. You are my best friend, Satoru," he placed a hand on Gojo's shoulder, "and no girl will ever change that."

Gojo's ocean blue eyes let some tears slipped. He realized that his best friend is right, as always. Geto will always be there. And sure, even after he gets busy in his own life and won't have time for Gojo and his antics anymore, that wouldn't mean they would change into strangers to one another.

Gojo quickly wiped his tears and nodded. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I don't want tk fix this. I want to evolve this. I want her back. I want to learn to love her again. Properly this time."

"You sure about that?"

Gojo nodded.

"Even after she won't forgive you?"

"Why wouldn't she? She's smart. She will understand. Besides, how can you rehect the best man in the world?" He forced out a chuckle.

Geto shook his head. "Arrogant and full of yourself as always."

"Yeah, what can you do..."

Geto's phone buzzed again. But this time nkt from a phone call but a message. Geto took out his phone, gave it a short glance and put it back into his pocket.

"Was it Shoko?"

Geto shook his head. "Just my reminder. Me and Shoko planned to go see a movie."

"Oh, is that what you talked about canceling?"

Geto nodded. "Y/N knocked on her door and asked to stay a few days. From what Shoko told me she was a mess."

Gojo slumped forward on his chair and hid his face in his hands. "I never wanted any of this to happen."

Geto hummed. "Do you know what this is callled? Consequences. Hurts, doesn't it?"

[onlyangel4]

life of pain. LL30. part one. smau + written.

liam lawson x chronically ill reader

reader has dealt with pain for as long as she can remember but what she did not respect was for her pain to be the reason she met her soulmate.

author's note: i shall be writing this from experience so reader suffers from elher's danlos syndrome, chronic pain syndrome and chronic fatigue syndrome. but if you have a different chronic illness please do imagine it as that

faceclaim: kristine froseth

part two

y/ninsta posted a story

written: think i just won daughter of the year

y/ninsta posted a story

written: pj day

y/bff replied to this story: are you alright y/n you only wear pjs all day when it is a tough day

y/ninsta: i'm okay just been suffering the past week

y/bff: aren't you going to vegas soon

y/ninsta: fly out tomorrow

y/bff: just be safe okay love don't push yourself too far

y/ninsta posted a story

written: can't wait to celebrate you this weekend, love you dad

y/ninsta posted a story

written: fit check

y/ninsta posted a story

written: finally here

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"great more walking", you whispered under your breath as you tucked your phone back into your handbag. this was not your dad's fault, he had no idea that you had hardly gotten out of bed all week and now you were in las vegas pushing your body to do things that it really did not want to do. your lids were already heavy, ready for bed and it was barely 9pm, a feeling that you were used to but would never feel normal.

you had decided that you wanted to get good pictures from this trip, so you had only packed heels, a cruel way of forcing your pained body to wear the fashionable shoe rather than slipping into your good old faithful worn out sneakers.

slowly weaving through the crowd you made sure to keep your head up and not slump shoulders, a way of making sure the shooting pain in your shoulder didn't get worse. but as you walked your eyes looked up to see a large group of people walking towards you, they already looked drunk. fucking brilliant.

you just continued to walk forward feigning importance with each step but even then you got shoved by one of the men. your brow furrowed, no one got to disrespect you like that. you turned to get a look at the man who had shoved you and give him a piece of your mind but you quickly regretted that choice.

you twisted badly on your right near and as you were in heels there was no stopping your right knee from dislocating. something that happens all the time but does not get any less painful. your joint quickly popped out of place and then back in but the damage was done as a yelp left your lips and you crumbled down to the floor.

the people in the paddock were too preoccupied with the excitement that comes with attending a formula one race that they just did not notice you on a crumpled heap on the ground hand grasping your knee just to make sure that it was properly back in place.

you were getting yourself ready to stand back up all by yourself when you noticed a blonde man with his eyes looked on you making a beeline towards you. "shit are you alright, you took quite a spill there", he spoke and your brain registered the accent instantly. "i'm okay i do stupid stuff like this all the time", you spoke and the man gave you a gentle smile, "what exactly happened that looked a little more than a small fall?"

"my dislocated", you spoke seeing the usual horror spread on his face.

"shit do i need to call an ambulance"

"no, like i said this happens all the time"

the man looked at you with pure concern on his face, you could practically see the cogs turning in his head as he tried to work you out.

"i have elhers danlos, you probably have never heard of it but it just means my joints like to dislocate all the time"

prince charming slowly nodded, "okay lets get you up and then i can help you find your friends"

"i'm here with my dad, he text me saying he was in the williams garage. i was trying to find him"

"okay i'll help you find him", he spoke before wrapping his arm around your waist.

"if you are going to touch me like that i better know your name mister", you teased as you heaved yourself up into a standing position.

the man looked a little taken back by your question almost like you should have known who he was, "i'm liam", he smiled

"nice to to meet you liam, i'm y/n", you spoke before beginning the walk with him, his arm still around your waist, just helping you keep your balance as you hobbled over towards the williams garage.

the walk to the garage was really nice, liam was asking you all sorts of questions like where you were from and what your medical condition really meant for you. you yapped on about your life, enjoying the man's company as you got to the williams garage.

your father was stood outside eyes searching for you but when he spotted you and your company his mouth opened wider, "Oh y/n", he called out as you and liam approached him.

"you worried me girl, did something happen", he spoke still side eyeing liam making you quirk an eyebrow.

"i'm okay, my knee dislocated, i'm fine though", you spoke knowing how worried your father got sometimes.

but your father was a little more focused on the man next to you, "liam", he spoke, "it is lovely to meet you", he smiled and you frowned a little, how did your father know liam?

"i am very happy to see you back in f1, you drive brilliantly"< your father spoke and you gasped.

"shit, you are liam lawson, the new rb driver", you spoke turning to him, "i am so sorry i didn't recognise you, i am a casual f1 fan, my dad here is the real superfan", you explained to the man rambling on a little bit.

"that is okay y/n it was kind of refreshing to meet someone that doesn't know who i am", he spoke kindly, "i'm going to have to head back over to the garage for some media bits but i was wondering if i could have your number. i could hustle you two seats in the rb garage for the race", he spoke, "it will a lot safer there for you", he smiled.

your father was looking at you two starstruck and you just nodded, "of course", you spoke before he gave you his phone and you plugged your number in, "thank you for helping me liam", you spoke before waving him goodbye.

he left you stood there stunned as your father asked you ever question under the sun about your interaction with the driver.

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[onyourowndaisymae]

don't mind me... just thinking about the demon brothers slowly dropping the rest of their roster for you as they fall head over heels...

lucifer // mammon // levi // satan // asmo // beel (you are here) // belphie -- others coming soon, NSFW warning below, gn!reader

beelzebub, who doesn't have the capacity to get to know you in the way he should. it seems that every season of his life comes with heartbreaking turmoil, and he just has to get used to that feeling of emptiness in his stomach. first, with the celestial war, he lost lilith. now, as the exchange program began, he had to say goodbye to his twin brother for an entire year. he hopes you don't take it personally-- he just can't spare the mental or emotional energy to embrace your arrival like he should.

beelzebub, who can't thank you enough for the way you've repaired his family. he never would have suspected that you had been forming the pacts with his brothers to release belphie from the attic. a small, nervous part of him wonders if you had been nice to him just to get his pact, that you didn't mean all those things you said-- but he knows you. even if you had been lying, you did it for the right reasons. and after all, everything worked out, right? you're here, belphie's back, and the months since his twin's return have been nothing but happy. you have single-handedly stitched his patchwork family back together. beel can't find a way to show how important all you've done for his family really means, but he'll keep trying anyways.

beelzebub, who likes you a lot, actually. he's never been too keen romance. most of his interactions had been spurred on by the other party. he's been attracted to people who are kind yet self-assured, seeking him out first. all of his experiences in crushes, in romance, in bed, have all been a game of follow the leader-- not due to a lack of interest on his part, but because of trauma-ridden aloofness that caused him to focus on the things he still had. romance never topped the priority list... at least, not until it came to you. beel saw you as a member of the family for a long time, longer than he maybe should have. but there's something special about you. something about you that makes him love you differently than he does his brothers. he just wants to have you around, always, sharing meals and movies and glances across the dinner table that make his brothers squirm. he's finally found someone special in his life-- someone he's going to give romance a try for.

beelzebub, who has never been good at controlling his appetite. it hits him at the worst of times, constantly, gnawing at his insides until he can't ignore it. that was why he is stuck in this position. a hunger brews in him, all adrenaline from the latter half of the fangol game and lust, and-- fuck, he needs relief. water beats loudly against the tiles, disguising the deep growl in his throat as he tugs impatiently at his aching cock once, twice, listening hard to make sure no one else was still in the locker room. he listens until he couldn't anymore, until his hand began to move impatiently on its own, another growl rumbling in his chest before he relents and begins pleasuring himself. his mind wanders to you, on the railing of the bleachers, screaming your lungs out in support of his team, feet pounding against the metal steps as you jumped about. you were there for him, cheering for him, watching his every move. he imagines you creeping in to reward him after everyone else left, perched on your knees on the locker room floor, wide eyes watching him with so much love as you swallow his cock, plush lips wrapped around his shaft as you take him as far as you can. just the thought makes his cock throb in his hand. he didn't have long to finish himself off and head out, but his mind couldn't help but linger on the image a bit longer...

beelzebub, whose date night just got a whole lot better. the two of you had spent the evening at hell's kitchen eating your fill (or in beel's case, eating them out of stock) then coming back to the house of lamentation for a movie. but your hand began to wander during the movie-- not towards the snacks, which he offered you several times as your gaze began to wander, but to his upper thigh. your fingers creep in further, until you're brushing against the seam of his pants. he hardens at your touch, your gaze, the steady sound of your breathing next to him. he shoots you a curious look. he quietly warns you that yours fingers are touching him in a particular place-- surely you know that already? you nod. he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you onto his lap. his view of the screen may be obstructed, but it's obvious that the movie has fallen to the wayside for now. it's him that takes the initiative to guide your hips into a steady grind against his own, little gasps escaping yours lips as he watches you more intently than he ever did the screen. grinding turns to kissing and kissing turns to grabbing, his big hands grabbing at your sides, your ass, your thighs, spreading you open for him. his fingers slip past the waistline of your pants and begin to toy with your sex through your underwear. you begin to tug at his sweatpants, desperately reaching for his cock while rutting into his hand. his cock springs free-- fuck, he's massive-- and you whine for it. you tugged your pants off in a few hurried movements. he tries to warn you about needing more prep, but his words die in his throat as you whimper for it, tell him how much you need him. his eyes and mind both glaze over with lust as gathers your juices and scissors them inside of your entrance, reaching deeper and deeper as you grip his broad shoulders and moan. when you're ready, he lines you up over his cock and lets your sink onto his length. you're so tight and soft and his head is spinning. fuck. the drag of his cock through your insides makes him groan. he doesn't even realize he's pinned your back against the couch until you look up at him with wide eyes and murmur his name. he starts to pull back, but you repeat his name-- your tone is laced with lust, hands reaching for him to come closer, and he does. he hovers close enough to brush his lips against your ear and apologize. you're a strong human, right? you can handle a little roughness? his hips pull back then thrust roughly into you, making your vision blur for just a moment, before he begins a truly sinful pace. a new sort of appetite brews within him-- and you know he's never been good at resisting his gluttonous urges.

taglist for this series: @the-demonus-aunt // @scienceisfornerds // @hostilemakeover // @snow-fall1 // @kachan890 // @rphantom1 // @respitable

[dinogoofymutated]

Blue over you - 97' Wolverine/Gn! Reader

Wolverine's not even my guy, and I finished this in a day! Haven't finished anything in a while, so this was an accomplishment! This was mainly inspired by the song Blue over you by mason ramsey, and Too sweet by hozier!

Let me know if Logan is to OOC. I'm trying my best to learn how to write for him!

Tw! Alcohol consumption, Light angst. Open-ending.

You can’t sleep.

Maybe it was because of the excitement of the day, the stress from grieving the professor, or what you ate for dinner. Either way, it was nearly 1 am at this point, and your pursuit of rest was fruitless. You let out a frustrated sigh, sitting up in bed and rubbing your eyes. You wonder if you could convince Jean to help you out, but you’re sure she’s asleep right now, and you don't want to wake her up. Especially not after she announced her… condition, at dinner.

It’s not that you weren’t excited. In fact, you were over the moon for your friends. Jean and Scott are important to you, more like siblings to you than they ever were just friends or classmates. Even so, after the cheers and congratulations and the celebration… The news left you with a melancholy you couldn’t quite shake. A baby. Jean and Scott, two people you basically grew up with, are having a baby- and here you are. Alone. You don’t have a partner, or a husband, or any romantic prospects, really. You’ve spent so long learning about yourself and how to protect others, you just never let yourself open up to someone like that. Sure, you’d met many people during your time as an X-man, but you had always been a hopeless romantic, and there had only ever been one man you had things for. But even so, you just… couldn’t help but feel like you were falling behind.

After a long stretch, and another sigh, you get out of bed. Maybe a drink and some air would help. The path to the little china cabinet in your room is familiar and automatic. It was a gift from the professor when you mentioned that you missed collecting things like funny-shaped teapots and such, a habit you picked up from your grandmother. You wonder if he knew that you used the wooden bottom cabinets to store alcohol. You laugh a little when you think about if he kept the information to himself, letting you have at least one little secret. He most definitely knew, you decided. You grab a random bottle of amber liquid, unable to see the label in the dark. You shrug it off, figuring that you’ll find out what it is at some point.

The halls of the mansion are dark and quiet as you make your way over to the balcony, stepping outside and eagerly breathing in the cool air. Your eyes are starting to droop already as you turn to shut the door, but you've come this far and you figure you might as well get a drink in.

You're rubbing your eyes again as you turn back around, only to jump at the sight of a figure sitting on the railing.

“Fuckin’ Christ!” You wheeze. “Logan, you scared the shit out of me!” The mutant hums, the corner of his lips tilting just slightly before falling again. You walk over next to him, setting the bottle down at your feet as you lean against the railing.

“Can't sleep?” You ask. Logan shakes his head, and you frown at him. As gruff as the guy is, he’s normally more talkative. At least, with you he is. You can tell that something wrong, and it doesn't exactly take a telepath to understand what it is.

“...You were the one who found out, weren’t you?” You ask, almost state. Logan Huffs at your question, hopping off of the railing to pace on the balcony. He presses his palms into his eyesockets, growling just slightly in frustration.

“Her smell was off. S’been off. Didn’t think anything of it until I heard the heartbeat.” He rumbles, setting his arms down. “Don’t know if I want to strangle Scott or throw him off of the roof of the mansion.” Logan’s hands flex in a way you know he’s just dying to unsheath his claws. You’re not entirely sure what to say at first as he sighs, and sits up against the far wall. He rests his head in his hands, and it hurts to see him like this. You open your mouth, before closing it again. You glance down at your feet, picking up the bottle you had grabbed earlier.

Logan doesn't seem to mind as you sit next to him, brushing against his shoulder. You screw off the top of the liquor, taking a swig straight out of it before offering him the bottle. It burns deliciously on the way down, and you smile cheekily as he raises an eyebrow at you. Nevertheless, the takes the bottle from you, hand brushing your own.

“You’re not gonna like it, by the way.” You laugh. Logan rolls his eyes, less than a ghost of a smile on his face.

“ ‘still liquor, ain’t it?” He hums, taking a swig. His face screws up as he swallows, holding the bottle out afterward to try and read the label.

“What is this?” He asks, disgusted. You can’t help but laugh at him as he gives you a tired look.

“Butterscotch Schnapps.” You answer him. “I told you that you weren't gonna like it, it’s too sweet for you.” Logan shakes his head, almost trying to get rid of the taste as he hands the bottle back and playfully shoves your shoulder.

“Not my fault you drink shitty liquor.” He grins. You feel a flutter in your chest as you smile back at him, taking another swig to mask whatever he could possibly pick up from you- The problems of pining for a man with super senses, you think, laughing slightly at your own thought.

“Guess it’s all for me then-” you start to joke, right before Logan snatches the bottle back.

“Gimme the damn bottle.” You’re giggling a little at this point as the alcohol starts to settle in just slightly. Logan rolls his eyes, still smiling as he takes another swig despite the fact he very clearly hates it.

The two of you go back and forth like this for a while. Take turns until the bottle is run dry. Your giggles have settled down, and the infamous wolverine has relaxed as you lean against him. The two of you sit in silence for a minute or two, both simply breathing in the cool night air.

“It’s okay, you know.” You mumble at some point. Logan, able to hold his liquor a lot better than you, cocks an eyebrow. He’s not sure if you even know you're talking at this point. You look like you’re bout to fall asleep, nuzzling against his shoulder with a pout on your face. He hums questioningly in response.

“It’s okay to hurt knowing that Jean’s pregnant.” Logan had almost forgotten about that, having been caught up in this moment. His face falls immediately, and he looks away from you, staring into the trees that surround the mansion. You feel your chest squeeze painfully, but either due to the drink or due to your lack of self-awareness, you continue talking. He needs to hear it, you drunkenly decide.

“It’s hard to watch someone you love be with someone else. It’s even harder to watch them move on without you. I know it hurts to watch her move on to the next stage of life without you. But at this point, the best thing you can do for her is support her because you love her, not covet what you wish you could have.” You know you sound like you’re drunkenly rambling, and maybe you are, but really, all of this is something you wish you could have said years ago. You’re sure you sound like Nightcrawler, talking about coveting and love and righteousness, but you’re not as much of a good person as Kurt is. You know that you’re no better than Logan, Pining after him for so long as he continues to pine for someone else. To be perfectly honest, You’re jealous of Jean. You’re jealous of her relationship, her happiness. You’re jealous of the fact that if she would turn around and throw everything away to be with Logan, he would take her in without a second thought. But she’s your friend. Your sister. You love her, and you cherish her happiness much more than you could ever resent her for it. You let out a pitiful chuckle, eyeing the last minuscule drop in the liquor bottle.

“Believe me, I would know.” You mumble. Logan’s brow furrows, taken aback by that. You’ve always been such a standalone, unbothered, always positive. It didn’t make sense to him.

“What do you mean by that?” He asks, but when he turns his head to look at you, you’ve fallen asleep against his shoulder.

The next morning, you wake up in your bed with one hell of a hangover. You groan at the light that drifts through your blinds, rolling over. When you finally open your eyes, you're greeted by the sight of a glass of water, and a bottle of painkillers. You’re confused at first, and then flooded with bashfulness and embarrassment when you realise who exactly had put them there. You roll onto your stomach, shoving your face into your pillow, unable to handle the embarrassment of knowing you said WAY too much last night. You can't help but smile a little though, knowing he must've cared enough to carry you back here and get you meds.

Maybe it wasn't all bad.

[red-doll-face]

ex boyfriend low honor arthur who cant get over you. 😔

low honor Arthur Morgan x fem. reader. warnings: nsfw, lh arthur and his breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, baby trapping...

Let's say Arthur is independent of the gang for whatever reason. Maybe you dated him while he was in the gang but you broke things off. He most likely prioritized the gang at some point about something really important to you or said something that took it too far too many times. You tell him you’re done. And he gets this really hard look in his eyes. He asks you if you're joking, cause it ain’t funny, in this voice that's like ice. You shake your head, showing your small bag of belongings, separated from all of his things. Puts his hands on his hips and sniffs. He’s devastated but he just nods. Arthur doesn't want you to see how much he's gutted. Deep down he wants to beg for another chance but he’s also arrogant enough to think you'll come crawling back. Regrets when his last words to you are ‘get out of my sight’ and your last words to him are ‘sorry, Arthur’. 

And of course you never do come crawling back. 

Then things with the gang fall apart and Arthur is probably the lowest he's ever been. He's never stopped thinking about you either. He can pretend he doesn't care but he's such a suckered for you. Never stopped loving you. Arthur is even worse than he was with Mary. Every single thing you left behind is venerated and he keeps them in this delicate little box. A ribbon from your hair, some jewelry he gave you, a hand mirror. Anything you gave to him he keeps close to his heart, a photograph of you two is always in his breast pocket. Any clothes you leave behind are definitely sniffed deeply while he jacks off, sorry he’s gross and shameless.

He's keeping himself alive doing bounty hunting work here and there. Drinking, trying to forget and getting in all kinds of bar fights, barely keeping himself out of jail. And he catches sight of you. You're working as a store keeper, sweeping the front of the shop in another nameless town somewhere in California. 

He just watches for a while in disbelief. He hopes you aren't married. Otherwise he'd probably kill the poor man. It's so hard to hold himself back and not just rush over there and pick up where you left off. All of this time, imagining you as the love of his life he let pass him by. You're just as beautiful as he remembers you too. And he is immediately right back to remembering all of your best moments together. Those delicate conversations you shared alone at the campfire after everyone had gone to sleep. Kissing you when no one was watching. The way you called his name the first time he made you cum for him. And he's going over there. You see him and at first you don't recognize him but then again you’d know that black hat anywhere. 

The way things left off, you're not sure what he's going to say. He looks like he can't believe what he's seeing. He just whispers your name and you nod. You hesitate to ask him how he's been, he doesn't look like he's doing so hot. You spend a while talking to him about what happened with the gang, you update him about the nice old man that took you in after you left. How lucky you had been. And fortunately for him, no new man.

Arthur one hundred percent believes that this is God's way of saying you two are meant to be together. He's convinced this is his second chance. He thinks whatever you both had is still there and can be rekindled whether that's true or not. He tries to not lay it on too thick but he can't help himself. He uses every pet name he's ever called you like you both never broke up. If you ask him about it, he says it's a force of habit, sweetheart... but he is lying. It's been so long, calm down. He loves to touch you, he tucks your hair behind your ear, puts his hand on your waist, helps you whenever he can up some steps or onto a horse. Cannot stop looking at your body and you can definitely catch him peeking at your cleavage. Acts like it's totally normal. 

And he knows how much you used to like him, used to like the way he bowed over you to kiss you, feel him press up against you, look at the muscles in his arms. Knows exactly what kind of things you liked to see him, those tight pants and the shirt where his chest looks like it's about to rip the seams. He uses everything to his advantage. He loves to show off everything you loved about him when you were together. His strength, his providing nature, his ability to be sweet and vulnerable in those small moments. Arthur has a dirty mouth too, whispering about how much he’s missed you, what he’d do just to get your sweet little pussy cat wrapped around his cock again. All with that lurid smirk on his face and his pretty blue eyes focused right on you. He is a menace and a fiend. 

Whether he tries to apologize or change is up in the air. If you make it a requirement, he will think about it. Because he really does want you back but there is a reason you left his ass in the dust. He's so desperate for it, he may just apologize for what he said to you and admit that what he did was wrong. He is very prideful but he can put it aside for you. He is not happy about it but it's probably a big part of why you may choose to take him back. Especially the quiet 'never quit lovin' you, honey'.

If you take him back he is already prepared to slip a ring on your finger. The make up sex is crazy, he puts his whole back into blowing yours out, eats you out until his jaw is sore. He's not letting you regret taking him back. He’s not stopping until you beg him to. He’ll show you why he was your man in the first place and why he should stay that way. The entire time he's telling you how much he missed this and how he ain't losing it again. He is most definitely looking to knock you up here too, pushing as deep as he can.

Even better if you're into his 'giving you a baby' talk. Arthur is fucking you full of his cum every night, telling you how gorgeous and precious you’d look round with his babe. In his head, once you have his baby, you're locked in for life. This second chance with you, he might deserve it, he might not. He won't question it too much. All he knows is he finally has exactly what he wanted. You with a ring on your finger, calling him your man with his baby on your hip. 

sorry these are a bit long 😳 thanks for the support as always! I spent so long on these trying to get them just right but im happy with how they came out !!!

[ephemeral--dreams]

Making you cry during a fight (2) - Scaramouche, Yae, Kaeya

Okay guys here you go never ask me for anything ever again /j

(part 1)

☆ ☾ ☆ ──────────────────

Scaramouche

There's a sort of deep, instinctive fear that takes root inside the place where a heart would be, as he watches tears fall after a few too-harsh words. 

He's hurt you. He's been careless, he's been too difficult, too much - and it's going to drive you away. You're going to abandon him because of this incident, surely. Why would you stay with someone who makes you cry? 

It's… it's not a feeling he's dealt with for many years. The fear of being left. He has not allowed anyone to get close enough to him to have any concern over whether they're around or not. Scaramouche had learned his lesson about getting attached and having emotion, after all. He had spat out whatever  bitter words he pleased and felt nothing when he upset anyone he spoke to.

But those days are past, and while that's a good thing in many ways, right now it feels anything but. 

"I-"

"Sorry. I shouldn't be crying," the way you apologize as if you're the one in the wrong stabs right through him. You're the one crying, yet he is being wounded just as much. It's an awful thing, caring. "Just. Just give me a moment…"

Scaramouche hesitates. He's paralyzed, caught up in the idea that anything he does or says may make things worse. But what wins out is the idea of fixing it, fixing things before you give up on him—

"Stop it. You shouldn't be the one saying sorry here. I shouldn't have said that to you, alright? You should know better than to take everything I say so seriously, honestly, I-" he sighs, irritated with himself more than you, before pulling you into his embrace. You don't pull away. Good. Maybe he hasn't entirely fucked things up. "...I didn't mean it. Sorry."

Yae

Yae Miko is not the sort of person who yells during a fight. Or at any time, really. So that hadn't been at all what had happened during your little conflict. 

Rather, her words were pointed to hit where it hurt, an attempt to shut down whatever silly human nonsense you thought was worth causing a riot over. Problems came and went, and most weren't nearly as important as they may seem in the moment. Living many years had led her to this conclusion. She was a busy woman who had little interest in wasting her time arguing. 

...Calculating and perhaps dismissive she may be, but she isn't cold. Yae still very much has a heart, and it skips a beat when she realizes you're nowhere to be found at the usual time she would meet with you after finishing her shrine duties. Surely you weren't that upset over it all, right? 

No, you couldn't be still lingering on the issue hours later… 

Well, you could. Others were far more sensitive to these things, a fact she often forgot. Yae should know better. Isn't she used to highly emotional people, after all? At least your tantrums weren't going to practically destroy the nation…

She finds you at the foot of the mountain, sitting and idly staring into the distance. The tear tracks on your face are all too telling. 

Yae is not above realizing when she has done something wrong. Though she's also not one to openly apologize. She doesn't do much of anything openly. 

"You don't listen to me," you tell her. 

"Well, I'll try to listen more, then. Is that satisfactory?" She offers a hand to you. You wait a moment before taking it, allowing her to pull you up. "Just remember to consider my side of things as well. We can work on it… But let's not linger on this too long. Time is fleeting for mortals like you, hm?"

Kaeya

Kaeya is excellent at one thing - avoidance. In fact, he's been successfully avoiding you ever since your fight a couple of days ago. It's easier to simply wait until you've both cooled off. 

That's what he tells himself. It's certainly not  that the fight made him feel anxious. He's not running away from his problems, of course not.

(He's lying to himself. One wrong word and you'll leave. He knows that. It's bad enough that you had an argument, archons forbid he confronts you and it's the last straw.)

So Kaeya carefully stays out of your way, doesn't speak to you, doesn't let you catch sight of him. He'll have to deal with things eventually, he knows, but… Until then, he's content to keep things this way. Four days in you finally seek him out yourself, looking exhausted and absolutely miserable. 

"Can we- can we stop fighting? You're right, I'm wrong, all that-" He can only watch as you start breaking down in front of him, a cold, sinking feeling of guilt settling in. "...Just stop ignoring me, please?"

His life has been filled with bad decisions - it seems that he's made yet another, by avoiding you so long. Now Kaeya is faced with your tears as you practically beg for his attention. It's quite the opposite of what he intended. He reaches a careful hand to brush them away. "Shh, shh. No more, alright?"

You sniffle, looking up at him. "You're not mad at me?"

"Of course not, sweetheart. I never was. We can talk about it later, okay? Let me make you feel better."

[brotheramberland]

Senseis' as fathers with a child!reader that was born blind.

Senseis' include: Kakashi Hatake, Satoru Gojo, Yami Sukehiro, and Levi Ackerman.

Please keep in mind: All character & reader interactions are purely platonic. There is NO romance. The reader is somewhere below the age of twelve and is portrayed as non-binary. These drabbles are meant to be platonic, fluffy and comforting.

━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━

Kakashi Hatake

"Do you have a good sense of your surroundings?" Kakashi asked from where he knelt beside you.

You sported a determined expression that he couldn't help but to find both adorable and admirable. Even blind you still tried your hardest to improve your skills no matter how dangerous it may be. It made him proud and also worried him to death.

"Mhm," You nodded, tilting your head, "There's a tree five meters that way. I think I know where to go."

"Very good," Kakashi patted your back, "Just remember, if you happen to fall, I'll be right there to catch you."

"Ok, daddy," You smiled at him before focusing all your attention on using echolocation to navigate the branch you wanted to jump on. If you were going to be a ninja one day, you had to practice and train with all your might, "Here I go."

Kakashi held his breath while calmly waiting for you to make your jump, his body braced in precaution. A lump grew in his throat and sweat lightly dampened his clothes. Honestly, he might be over-thinking a bit, but he couldn't help it. He loved you so much, and while he respected your desires to train, he still worried about you tremendously.

He had lost so much in his life. Losing the most precious piece of it would cause him to go infinitely insane. Your blindness was an extreme vulnerability, and although you had grown well adapted to it, there was still much you had left to learn. And it didn't help his anxiety any when you decided to do dangerous activities like this.

In a flash, you jumped.

With a stumble, you landed perfectly on the tree branch. Wobbling to regain balance, you blushed in triumph and giggled, "Ah! Did you see that, daddy? I made it!"

Kakashi swiftly jumped onto the same branch, smiling proudly behind his mask, "Yes I did. That was well done, dongo, good job. At this rate, you'll be a ninja in no time."

Delighted by his praise, you grinned and began looking around, getting excited when you sensed yet another nearby branch. "There's another one," You grinned and went to jump.

Kakashi gasped and reached out for you, "Wait, (y/n), not so fast."

This time around, you didn't land where you were supposed to. In fact you didn't come into contact with any trees, and instead fell to the far away ground. "Ahh, daddy!" You cried.

Kakashi caught you in an instant, safely securing you in his arms while landing on a nearby branch, "You okay?"

You whimpered, hugging him tightly and frowning in failure, "Yes, but... I missed."

"That's okay," Kakashi quickly reassured you, running a soothing hand through your messy hair, "We all make mistakes. Why don't you try again, but this time, try not to let your emotions overwhelm you, ok? Often times emotions can be more blinding than blindness itself."

"But... What if I miss again?" You say sadly, "I-if I can't jump like I'm supposed to, then I'll never get to be a ninja, an-and you'll hate me, a-and I w-won't get to be like you-"

"Hey, hey, where's this coming from?" Kakashi grasped your shaking shoulders, looking into your milky, watery eyes, "Dongo, I could never hate you, so don't ever assume that, ok? And this was only your second attempt. You have plenty more to go. Don't be so hard on yourself. One of the most important things about being a ninja is never giving up. You're not giving up, are you?"

Quickly wiping your eyes, you shook your head and say softly, "Do you really think I can do it?"

Kakashi smiled and went to playfully pinch your cheek, kissing you on the forehead through his mask before saying, "I know you can. There's nothing you can't do, (y/n), and I'll always be right here by your side to make sure of that."

━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━

Levi Ackerman

Levi was enjoying one of his rare days off from the ever tiring Survey Corps. He hadn't gotten to see you in over a week- something he chewed Erwin out for sternly. By the time he entered his house, you came rushing towards him, your tiny figure accidentally bumping into things along the way.

"What did I say about running?" He grumbled, unable to resist hugging you whenever you were close enough, "Damn runt, gonna hurt yourself."

"I missed you, daddy," You say in a mixture of sadness and excitement, your cracking voice causing him to frown, "You were gone so long. I-I was scared you wouldn't come back."

"Hmp, so much for faith," Levi ruffled your hair, relief flooding him at finally getting to be at your side again, "Has nanny been good to you?"

You whimpered a bit, your glossy eyes pointing towards the ground, "I like her, but... She doesn't let me draw... or cook... or sew."

At that answer, Levi sighed and palmed his face, cursing nonsense underneath his breath. This was a common problem for you and him; nannies and babysitters not letting you do anything fun all because you were blind. None of them had any patience or consideration and it really got on his nerves.

"Tell me she read to you at least?" He rubbed his temple, not really in the mood to threaten another dumb nanny for mistreating his child, but if he had to he would absolutely give her a piece of his mind.

Your small "yes" was the only thing that saved her.

Seeing the dejection decorating your face, Levi tapped on your nose and said, "Well, you should know it's been a while since I've had some decent food. Get your little butt in there and cook me something already."

Gasping in joy at his given permission to do one of your favorite activities, you nearly leaped into the air, twirling around and giggling excitedly, "Yay! I get to cook for daddy."

Before you could run off, Levi grabbed your hand and grumbled, "No running this time."

You grumbled back at him and marched to the kitchen with a silly pout on your face. Levi shook his head, grinning as he thought about how much he loved you. Honestly, you being blind was kind of a relief to him simply because it meant that you would never be able to fight. And being the protective father he was, he rather preferred it that way.

You were already doing such a good job at basic daily activities like reading braille, learning how to write, cooking small meals, navigating your way through familiar places, and even drawing and sewing. People said you wouldn't develop properly when you were born. Well, Levi would like to see them say that to his face now.

Taking off his jacket, Levi none-too-politely paid the nanny and threw her out of his house. Then he went into the kitchen where you were currently working on mixing eggs in a bowl, your eyes staring mindlessly at the wall. You may be blind, but you made him so unbelievably proud, you had no idea.

"I'm making your favorite, daddy," You say cheerfully when you noticed his presence.

Levi smirked and went to put some fire in the stove, "'Bout time I was spoiled."

You giggled, carefully climbed down from the chair, and walked over to him, reaching out to feel for his hand, "Can I see you?"

After getting the fire started, Levi knelt down in front of you and patiently allowed you to touch his face with your hands. You often did this during moments when he held you, your little hands gently feeling the structure of his face in an attempt to get an idea of what he really looked like.

"I missed you, daddy," You say quietly.

Levi reached forward and pulled you into a firm, loving hug, kissing the side of your cheek, "Missed you too, you little runt."

━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━

Satoru Gojo

Who would have thought that his child would be born with beautiful crystal eyes like he himself had, and yet be cursed never to use them? Even though your disability was not his fault, Gojo still felt guiltily accountable, and always sought protecting you and making you the happiest he possibly could.

Starting a new morning, Gojo carried some fresh, folded clothes into your bedroom, quiet and stealthy. You were sleeping peacefully on your bed, your little snores causing his heart to flood with endearment. Gosh, you were so precious to him.

Setting the clothes down, Gojo knelt beside the bed and reached out to brush a gentle hand through your hair. You whimpered, your head stirring around on the pillow. "Hm? Hello? Rise and shine," He playfully sang.

You groaned softly, your body stretching out as your eyes squinted open. "Mm... Daddy?" You reached out to feel for him as your eyes stayed aimed towards the ceiling.

"Morning, my little angel," Gojo grabbed your hand and squeezed it gently, "Time to get up."

"Are you taking me to work today?" You asked curiously, tilting your head towards him, your hand tensing within his own larger one, "What if they don't like me?"

"Are you kidding me? They're gonna love you," Gojo blew raspberries and laughed, "And if they don't, then guess what? More butts' for me to leave my ultra-famous, Gojo styled foot print on."

Giggling at his joke, you reached out with your free hand and go to feel the blind-fold covering his powerful eyes, "I wish I could be more like you."

That sent a bullet roaring through Gojo's heart. He absolutely hated it when you degraded yourself and/or claimed that you wished you were different. It broke his heart more than you could ever imagine. "Hmm, well I love you just the way you are," He said casually.

"In fact I'd give up my own eyes any day to be just like you; free house, free food, the world's most riveting, handsome dad (if I do say so myself), and of course the opportunity to never have to work in a dangerous environment," Gojo smiled and patted your head, "There are plenty of reasons to be like you. Quit being so negative- you'll make the walls cry- and they don't even have eyes."

Letting go of your hand, Gojo grabbed your clothes and unceremoniously tossed them onto your face, "Hurry, hurry, or I'll eat all of the breakfast. Hm? Breakfast... Oh no, the breakfast!"

Sensing your father quickly disappear, you only manage to frown when the fire alarms began going off seconds later. Looks like he burnt breakfast... Again...

After you got dressed, brushed your teeth and headed down the hallway, you grimaced at the stench of burnt eggs. Goodness, what a silly father you had, but you loved him. Coming to a stop at the table where you sensed he was sitting at, you timidly held out a single band of cloth.

"Oh? What's this?" Gojo asked nonchalantly, pretending not to be embarrassed about, yet again, burning breakfast, "A scarf?"

"I... I thought that maybe... S-since I'm blind, maybe I could wear something like what you wear to cover your eyes. Then that way..." You frowned, tilting your nose down at the ground, "That way they won't know I'm blind. They'll think I'm strong, like you."

If your words could be knives, then they would have just sliced right through his chest. Still though, he managed to maintain his optimistic, calm persona, "What? You wanna lie to your new friends? Well that's not very nice. Their hearts would be broken in seconds."

"But..." You whimpered.

"Listen, (y/n)," Gojo reached out to grasp your shoulder, squeezing it gently, "You're not like me. You will never be anything like me. Why- you may ask? Because you're already a million times better."

You sniffled, leaning in to hug him, grateful that he so greatly accepted and loved you no matter how flawed you were, "I love you, daddy."

"I love you too, little angel who is stronger and cooler and- while I hate to admit it- better looking than me," Gojo teased, your laughter his haven that he could live in forever.

He loves you, (y/n), remember that.

━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━

Yami Sukehiro

Yami, in general, was already extremely protective of you, especially after he discovered that you would forever be blind. Now that's not to say that he didn't encourage you to push past your limits. In fact he helped you train all the time. But see, the only problem he had with you training was when you trained by yourself.

And when he found out that you had been flying around on a broom by yourself thus leading to the breaking of your arm, Yami just about tore the rooftops off buildings with his sheer rage alone.

He was in the medical ward giving Magna and Luck a good scolding until you came prattling up, your arm perfectly healed by healing-magic. "Daddy, please stop being mean to Magna and Luck," You whined, tears in your eyes as you lightly shook, "I'm sorry. It's my fault... I went outside without their permission and rode the broom... It's my fault."

The entire ward went dead silent as Yami turned all his attention to you. Considering how bad his temper could get, you were pretty brave for admitting your mistake. And the look on your face; embarrassed, frightened and sad. He knew that you were telling the truth.

"Alright then," Yami relaxed and stepped forward to take your healed hand in his, his voice calm as he said, "Think it's 'bout time you and I had a little chat."

You whimpered but otherwise said nothing the entire time your father lead you just outside the ward. You knew from how he treated others that making him angry resulted in a scary outcome, and you worried what he would do to you now that you've finally done something to upset him. You felt bad too. Sad and regretful.

Once you were outside, Yami let go of your hand and lit a cigarette, "So... Ya just thought ya could do whatever the heck ya wanted to, huh?"

You tensed, your blind eyes staring at the ground, "I did a bad thing. I'm sorry, daddy."

Yami considered you. Unlike other people who annoyed him, he had never really ever gotten mad at you. Seeing how scared you were right now was suffocating enough to make him pout. Was he really making you that uncomfortable? But... He was your father. You shouldn't have to feel uncomfortable around him.

"Ya know, if this were me an' my dad, I woulda' already got my head beat in," Yami blew out a cloud of smoke, "Lucky for you though, I ain't him... I do wanna know one thing though- If all ya wanted to do was ride a damn broom, why didn't ya ask for help?"

You swayed back and forth, fiddling with your hands, "'Cause... You don't need help, an'..."

Ah. So you wanted to be like him. Yami closed his eyes in understanding. "Squirt, get over here an' look at me," Yami crouched down and guided your tiny hand to rest against the side of his face.

He in return cupped your face, gazing into your foggy eyes and saying, "I don't need help 'cause I'm all grown an' got full control over my mana. You're still a tiny, little sprout. Now if ya wanna train, that's fine, but 'till then, you train when someone else is around to help, ya hear?"

You nodded, your lower lip wobbling, "Yes, daddy."

"Eh? I go easy on ya an' you're still about'a cry? Talk about sensitive," Yami chuckled a bit, gently whacking your nose with his thumb.

"I-it's not you, daddy, I..." You whimpered, your body buckling up, "When I fell- i-it... It was just so scary a-and it hurt..."

Oh. Yami's face bloomed with realization. Oh... That was your first traumatic experience, huh? No wonder you were so upset. At first he thought about teasing you or making a sarcastic remark, but ultimately decided against it.

Instead he settled for wrapping his arms around you and pulling you against his large chest. "It'll be alright, squirt. You're tough. You'll pull through. Everything's gonna be alright, ya hear?"

Soaking up his comforting warmth and attention, you whimpered and nodded, trying your hardest to hide in the safety of his chest. Your father was so strong and comforting. With him around, it was guaranteed that you would always be safe.

[yoursweetwife]

how would Ratio comfort a crying sad reader? reason why reader is cryingis up to you (or just not include it thats fine too!)

Warning: comfort, fluff, soft Ratio., female reader, sad reader, bad english

Synopsis: Ratio expected to see anything but the way you cry.

The first thing that Ratio thought about after he went home to your shared apartment was you. He heard from colleagues when he came to check on you in the office that you had left because of an incident, it confused him. You usually warned him in advance, but today you didn't even send a message. However, no one has been able to explain what happened.

Ratio was not good at showing his emotions, and other people might think that he was completely indifferent to you, but this is far from the truth. Meeting you is the best thing that happened to him.

You could easily have improved his mood with your conversations (he really likes talking to you about everything in the world), he realized this right now while walking home, annoyed with today. Fortunately, his plaster head hid his disappointment from prying eyes. At the sight of your house, a weight seemed to fall off his shoulders.

Approaching the door, he is surprised to find it unlocked. Ratio grunted and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"[name], I told you to lock the door."

After opening the door, he quickly went inside and called your name. The apartment was too dark and quiet, since you started living instead, such a thing as "silence" has practically disappeared from his life. It was filled with sounds of activity, teamwork, and love, even when you were angry at each other and not talking.

His shoes were left standing next to yours. As if feeling it, Veritas started walking towards your shared bedroom. Concern showed on his face as sobbing-like sounds began to come from inside.

He watched in horror as your tears stained the sheets. However, besides the bed, you were in a mess. Your hair and clothes were in terrible condition, and quiet hoarse screams came from your mouth, as if you had been doing this for hours. From his angle, he could see you trying to wipe away tears with your hands.

If another person were crying in front of him, there would be little he could do in such a situation, but in order to keep a smile on your beautiful face, the scientist is ready to do anything. Unconsciously, Ratio headed towards you. Strong arms pressed you to his chest, and your face was buried in soft hair. His brows furrowed when he felt you flinch.

"V-veritas? - Your tired voice filled the dark room. - I'm sorry, I didn't keep track of the time. You shouldn't have seen this."

You started frantically wiping your face. Veritas felt anger at the realization that you wanted to hide something so important from him. Do you really think he's going to laugh at you? This conversation can be left for later.

He took your hands and stopped them and turned you to face him. Ratio smiled gently. His hands gently wiped away the wet traces of tears and you could feel that you were ready to cry again, just from this one gesture. After today's incident, you felt very bad, and the presence of Veritas brings you an inexplicable sense of calm.

"It's okay, - Ratio pulled you closer to him, you nuzzled his shoulder. - Calm down, I don't like to see you crying alone."

The gentleness in Ratio's voice scared even him. He stroked your hair soothingly. Gradually, you stopped hearing his words, and the world around you plunged into darkness. But you could still feel his touch.

[thebearer]

had this thought of being in your first trimester while pregnant with teddy, and you’re so sick you can barely hold down saltine cracker. and one day at family he’s trying to get you to eat and you’re like “no i literally can’t” and he snaps at you in front of everyone

"C'mon, just try a little bite." Carmen coaxes, what was supposed to be a soothing tone was falling short, that snip in his tone was fueled with irritation.

"Carmen," You moaned lightly, your stomach lurching at the thought.

The smell of the kitchen was enough to make you nauseous, walking through only for a moment before you felt ill. Normally, your mouth salivated at the smells, tummy rumbling at the promise of the family meal.

That changed quickly after you found out you were pregnant. Only a few weeks, but your symptoms were coming in stronger each day. Hormonal acne that was angry and hurt to the touch decorating your jaw and chin, fatigue that washed over you in waves so strong it left your head spinning, and morning sickness. Well, morning was generous seeing as it followed you throughout the day. Your sense of smell was more sensitive, as was your stomach, and that combo was far from ideal. You'd smelled cilantro when you walked in and had to run to the bathroom.

Carmen understood, he did, but your recent hunger strike of sorts because of your stomach was making him beyond nervous. He'd looked up all the important, nutrient rich foods for you, insistent that you eat them.

And you would, if you could. If it didn't come shooting back up twenty minutes later.

"You gotta eat." Carmen frowned at you. "You can't starve yourself. Starve the baby."

"Carm, I'm not starving myself or the baby." You snapped, low and under your breath. "I'm gonna throw up if I eat it, ok? My stomach is fucked."

"Probably because you haven't eaten anything." Carmen glared at you, nodding towards the loaded bagel sandwich in front of you. "C'mon."

"Carmen, the thought of eating that right now is making me already gag." You muttered, holding a hand to your mouth, trying to swallow the spit already pooling in. "I'm not eating that."

"Baby, you have to-"

"-Carm, I will later, but I can't right now. I just threw up." You whined. There came the surge of emotions, raging and wild, the annoyance masked with frustration and tears.

"Eat. I'm not playin' with you anymore." Carmen's tone was harsh, cutting and firm, loud enough to bring the attention of the table towards the two of you.

Your lip wobbled, stomach twisting now with the humiliation of tears as well. You shoved your seat out, stomping towards the bathroom with burning tears. The table was silent, looking at Carmen.

Tina glared at him. "The fuck's the matter with you, Jeff?" She huffed, already standing to check on you.

"I-I'm just... She's not eating. And-And it's bad for the baby-"

"Carmen, really?" Sugar huffed, rolling her eyes. "You're so stupid."

"I gotta agree with Sug on this one." Richie quipped, nodding before shoveling the pasta in his mouth. "You are a fuckin' moron."

"Fuck off, alright? I'm a moron because I don't want my baby to starve?" Carmen huffed. The table erupted in comments, mostly derogatory towards Carmen's last comment and in defense of you.

"She's not starving your baby, you idiot." Sugar huffed. "She's sick. Ok? That is a different kind of sickness. One you will never understand." Sugar sneered. "And right now, there's probably only one craving that the baby won't reject, so maybe instead of being a dumbass-"

"-total jagoff-"

"-complete asshole-"

"-Go check on her." Sugar placed her hands on her hips, the sisterly glare that only an older sister could possess.

Carmen hated that she was right, hated that they all were. But he hated that you were upset and in the bathroom more.

"Can I come in?" Carmen knocked lightly, hearing Tina's soothing voice over your retching and sniffles. His heart plummeted.

Tina opened the door with a glare, one that had Carmen stepping back. "You not gonna come in here and make Mama more upset, you got me, Jeff?" Tina sneered, a painted brow raised menacingly at him.

Carmen just nodded dumbly. "You better get in there and make it right, you hear me?" Tina pushed past him.

You were sitting on the tile, one hand wiping your tear stained face, the other cleaning your mouth with a piece of toilet paper. You glared at Carmen through tear stained eyes, sniffling softly, making his heart crack.

"Baby," Carmen knelt down, a hand running over your hair soothingly. "I'm sorry, alright? I-I didn't mean to yell like that."

You just glared at him, wiping under your eyes. "I just... I don't know, I'm scared. I'm scared that something will happen to the baby, and-and it will be my fault."

"How would it be your fault?" You mumbled through a pout. "It's my body."

"Yeah, but, I-I don't know. Like if I miss a step or don't do everything right it will... It'll be bad and it's gonna be my fault." Carmen muttered, looking down at the tile.

"That's not how it's gonna be, Carm." You sigh, your heart melting at his admission. You knew he was scared, you were too. Just trying to figure it out together. "You can't plan everything and expect it to go like that. Not with a baby."

"I know." Carmen ran a hand down his face, looking back at you sweetly. "I'm just... I-I'm sorry, ok? I didn't mean to pressure you like that and be an asshole... or a jagoff... or a dumbass..."

You giggled lightly, lips curling. "You're not a dumbass all the time." You said playfully. "I promise, I will eat, Carm. I just can't do the vegetables and cheese today." You said, gagging lightly at the thought.

"Yeah? That's alright. What can you do, hm? What're you in the mood for?" Carmen hummed, running a hand down your hair.

You thought for a moment, hand running over your tummy lightly. You'd barely started to show, looking like bloat, but it drove Carmen wild regardless.

"Remember that hot dog we had after our first karaoke date?" You muttered dreamily, leaning your head to the side.

It felt like a lifetime ago. You and Carmen had just gotten 'serious'. Everything was exciting and new, and you'd taken him to a karaoke bar, serenading him a little tipsy and giggly. You'd been starving on your walk home. Carmen stopped and got you a one am hot dog at a questionable stand, but you'd loved it, sharing it with him, buried into his side while the two of you walked home. It was a shitty hotdog, but Carmen would've ate a million that night to keep you happy like that.

"Yeah?" Carmen tried not to grimace, nose scrunching lightly enough to have you laughing, his shoulders relaxing at the sound.

"I just want a shitty hotdog. Nothing gourmet. Just with some mustard. That's all I've been craving." You muttered.

"Alright. That's what baby wants?" Carmen asked, helping you off the floor sweetly, grabbing your bag for your mouth wash.

You nodded, gargling with it, Carmen holding your hair back while you spit in the sink. "I'll get it for you, ok? I think there's one down the block-"

"-I'll come with you." You added, glaring at him lightly, so he wouldn't protest. "I just need to be outside. Maybe settle my stomach."

"Alright." Carmen nodded, a hand running down your hip. "You got a coat?" You nodded, leaning into his side, walking back to the office with him.

Carmen walked you down to the stand, "overpriced and a tourist trap" he'd grumble, but bought you two hot dogs- just in case. In case you wanted more later. You'd managed to keep it down, sitting with him on the steps of The Bear, pressed into his side, giggly and sharing kisses in between bites.