#but i figured i might as well post and check-in that i'm still around

[babykittenteach]

Whatever this argument is about, Stede's winning.

[kaluawoo]

Hhhhh maybe i should rewrite this fic from scratch...

[kookslastbutton]

what love feels like ༓ myg (m)

✑ Summary: Being a mother to a beautiful baby girl and wife to an adoring husband is the most rewarding feeling in the world. But you also work a full-time job, are overtired most of the time, stressed, don't have any alone time, look very different than eight years ago, and sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs on you until one day, all of your deepest insecurities rear their ugly head–that your husband might not love you as much anymore and someone could take him away from you.

Pairing: husband!yoongi x reader

AU/genre: angst, fluff, smut, marriage au

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 6.7k+

Warnings: swearing, both Yoongi and oc are in their 30s, mom and full-time worker!oc, reserved!dad!yoongi, lack of intimacy, mentions of body insecurities post-pregnancy, mentions of fear of abandonment, mentions of jealousy. irrational worries, built-up stress, light fighting, silent treatment, stubbornness, lots of reassurance, nightmares, cute backstory of how they met, a lot of ily, Yoongi and oc being good parents 🥹, Yoongi calls oc doll, and explicit sexual content

sexual warnings: swearing, kissing, neck kisses, pleading, banter, dirty talk, doll petname, asking for consent, b**b squeezing & sucking, hair threading, penetration, f*ngering, big d*ck!yoongi, growling, missi*nary, eye contact, tearing up, c*ming together

Now Playing: Breathing by Anne Marie

a/n: Okay this was for Yoon's bday. Based on the poll, husband!Yoon won. Was intended to be a Drabble but well...heh 😅 Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this fic and Yoon is just such a good hubby for responding well to these very relatable insecurities. (Low-key love this couple...) I'm sorry for any typos or warnings i missed! I checked and double checked but a few might have slipped. Enjoy! Anyway please enjoy! 🥰

“So, you're Jia's father, huh? I don’t think I've seen you here before, and I’m sure I would have recognized you.”

With his back straight and arms folded, Yoongi gives the woman in front of him a quick once-over. Mid-40s, freshly single, and definitely in need of some companionship. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out; she’s been talking his ear off for the past twenty minutes like he’s some kind of remedy to all her problems.

Honestly, he just swung by to pick up his four-year-old from daycare after another grueling day at work. But the moment he walked in, it was as if all the single moms latched onto him like a flock of hungry geese. This one’s name is Sandra in particular.

It reminds him of his college basketball days, how the cheerleaders all too eagerly swarmed around him after sinking the winning shot at the championship game. Shame he was too busy eyeing the girl in the stands to care, her face buried behind a book twice as big as her head. Who reads an 800-page novel during the playoffs anyway?

Fate, as one may call it, intervened about a week later when his best friend became said girl’s lab partner. Yoongi didn’t make any sudden moves at first, but well, he did make her his wife three years later.

“It’s just so nice to finally meet the father of such a sweet child. Especially considering how many dads tend to take a backseat in their child's early years.” Is she still going on? Yoongi does his best to stay present, though it’s proving unsuccessful. “And Jia truly is an angel! It’s clear you’re doing a wonderful job raising her, even with a full-time job and all.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows knit together at the somewhat odd choice of words. “Thanks,” he drawls out, noticing her pupils dilating with every breath. “Most of the credit goes to my wife though. She’s a great mom to Jia.”

“Jia’s m-mom?” Sandra stutters, her mouth slightly agape. Yoongi senses the gears turning in her head as she struggles to process the unexpected presence of his wife. Tempting as it is, he holds down a smirk. Of course, he’s a happily married man–for nearly eight years now.

“Yeah,” he replies simply. “She’s usually the one to pick up our daughter from daycare, but she’s been working a lot of overtime lately. I thought I'd come instead so she can get some rest."

“Oh, well that’s very–“

“Daddy! Daddy, you’re here!” The sound of a familiar high-pitched voice, along with a light pattering of feet, diverts both adult’s attention.

“Hey kid.” Yoongi effortlessly lifts the small child once in front of him, securing her in his arms. “Have fun today?”

Jia gives an enthusiastic nod, bright red ribbons in her hair bouncing cutely as she does. Proudly, she shows him the drawing she made.

“See? It’s me, you, and mommy!” She makes sure to point to each part of the picture with her pointer finger.

Yoongi gently takes the artwork from his daughter’s hand and lets out a soft chuckle. “Now this is what I call a masterpiece! Mommy’s gonna love hanging this one on the fridge. How about I hold onto this and you go grab your backpack, okay?”

As soon as Jia’s feet touch the carpeted floor again, she races off to her cubby in the far corner of the room. Yoongi shoots Sandra a final glance before slowly following behind. “We got to get going, but nice meeting you.”

“You…too.” Sandra’s response is more than disappointed as she watches the father-daughter duo make their way out of the building. Evidently, Min Yoongi isn’t the single dad she originally assumed. Funny, she swore there wasn’t a wedding band in sight. Maybe she missed it.

“No, I’m sorry but I’m certain we haven’t used any of your services in the last six months. My husband canceled it in late October.”

With one hand, you grip your cell phone up to an ear while the other pops open the dishwasher. You’ve been on the phone with the cable company for half an hour, trying to make sense of an unexpected charge that appeared on your bank account this morning. You consider yourself more patient than most, yet after working all day, a pile of laundry waiting to be washed, and dinner threatening to burn on the stove, the last thing you have time for is arguing with your old service provider.

“I understand, ma’am, and I apologize for any confusion. I’m taking a look at my records and they’re all showing me that—oh wait a second.”

The young man on the opposite end of the line interrupts his own thought, piquing your concern in the process.

“What did you say your last name is?”

You answer and in an instant, you’re met with a thousand rushed apologies; something about getting the account names mixed up in their system. It’s difficult to decipher everything you hear with the front door being thrust open that very moment.

“Mommy, where are you? We’re home!” Your daughter not so subtly announces her presence from the foyer. She kicks off her shoes, hangs her backpack on the designated wall hook, and then rushes to the kitchen upon catching a brief glimpse of your shirt.

“It’s alright, these mistakes happen.” You hang up the call and turn around to find Jia only steps away, a big goofy grin on her face. Infectious, you break out into a smile yourself and swoop her up.

“Hey honey, I missed you so much!” You kiss the side of your daughter’s head as she wraps her small arms around your neck. “You look so pretty with all these ribbons in your hair! Daddy did a good job, didn’t he?”

Being that you were called into work earlier than usual this morning, Yoongi was the one who got Jia dressed and ready for daycare. You’re delightfully surprised by the results.

“Mmhm,” Jia nods, twirling a couple of strands of hair between her thumb and forefinger. “But Daddy pulls too much!”

“Maybe if someone had listened and stopped fussing when I told her, I wouldn’t have accidentally yanked on her hair when I was reaching for her favorite Hello Kitty scrunchie.” Yoongi joins you both in the kitchen, walking over to press a quick peck on your lips while tenderly caressing the small of your back. The gesture soothes you of your earlier frustrations. “Who was that on the phone? Cable company?”

“Yeah, they canceled the charge. Wrong account.” As you reiterate the entire mix-up, your eyes wander all over your husband. He’s especially handsome tonight, given his perfectly tousled black hair and navy blue blazer flowing over his body. It’s tastefully oversized with a clean, white top paired underneath. You, on the other hand, are sporting a raggedy old t-shirt and stained sweatpants.

There was a time when you used to put a shit ton more effort into your appearance. It was before you got pregnant with Jia, back when you and Yoongi were going out on weekly dates. Neither of you has that kind of time anymore, or energy for that matter. You didn’t believe the other moms when they told you the romance takes a nose dive after you have your first kid. Yet here you are, proven wrong again.

Being parents to a beautiful baby girl is likely the most rewarding feeling in the world for you and Yoongi. You don’t remember the last time the two of you got real quality alone time though. And sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs more on you with each passing day to be honest. Sure, you’re not the same person you used to be eight years ago, but shouldn’t you and Yoongi still make time for at least a little intimacy?

“How was picking up Jia by the way?” You look at Yoongi who merely shrugs nonchalantly in response.

“It was fine. Nothing too out of the ordinary,” Yoong gives you another peck before heading up the stairs to your bedroom. “I’m gonna go get changed. Why don’t you show Mommy the drawing you did Jia?”

“A drawing?” You shift your attention to your daughter whose eyes sparkle like diamonds upon mention. “We should put it up on the fridge then. Let’s take a look hmm?”

“It’s in my backpack! My new friend and I were drawing together. Her name is Mi-Sun.” Jia continues telling you all about her friend Mi-Sun as you make your way to the front door where her backpack hangs. You’re fully engaged until the very end. “Daddy made a new friend too!” she joyously claps her hands together, not realizing the depth of her remark.

“Oh, who’s Daddy’s new friend honey?” You ask, staying as calm as possible.

“Ms. Cho! They were talking for a really long time today.”

Ms. Cho? You think back to all the moms you’ve met at daycare. Somehow you can’t recall ever hearing or meeting a Ms. Cho. She must be a single mom, you deduce. Was she new? What did she look like? And why didn’t Yoongi mention her when you asked?

This has to be nothing but a little small talk, an acquaintance at most. Besides, the moms at Jia’s daycare are quite a chatty bunch and Yoongi wouldn’t dare overstep any boundaries.

“Do you know what they were talking about?” You don’t enjoy asking your child for details about your husband, yet you can’t seem to help it this time.

“I dunno,” she shrugs her shoulders. "Daddy was laughing a lot."

Suddenly, the self-assurance you gave yourself earlier slips away; seemingly useless given the queasy feeling building in the pit of your stomach.

For the remainder of the night, you purposely dodge every attempt your husband makes to kiss, touch, and hold you. You’ve even begun responding to his questions in one-word answers and at times, with nothing at all.

Yes, you’re being petty; more than usual. The silent treatment frustrates Yoongi to no end and it isn’t very mature of you, but neither is refusing to tell your wife that some single mom was flirting with you in front of your kid! Okay, so maybe that's an exaggeration. Maybe it all sums up to a harmless conversation, but it’s not like you know either way with Yoongi being as reserved as he is. It brings you back to your early dating days when he wouldn’t think to tell you about various aspects of his day; who he ate breakfast with that morning or the one classmate of his that wouldn’t leave him alone for two semesters.

Truth be told, you're simply hoping that your husband will bring up the topic first, without having to be the classic nagging wife. You’re a jealous person by nature so it’s not a simple task. Even now as you fold the first batch of laundry on your shared bed, him on the other side doing the same, you struggle to keep from blurting everything out.

“So,” Yoongi fluffs up a clean pillowcase before sliding it onto one of the bed pillows. “How was work?”

What a basic question, you grumble internally. Is that all he’s got? “Was okay,” you reply. “The usual.”

“You must be tired from the day. Did you get to lie down at all?” Yoongi picks up another pillowcase, repeating the process as before. When he glances your way, it’s clear something’s on your mind. You’ve started pairing Jia’s socks far more aggressively than normal and you’re holding back your responses. “Did you hear me, doll? Or am I going deaf here?” The sarcastic chuckle distracts you from your task, forcing your attention.

You’re about to respond when your eyes briefly flicker down to his hands, his left one in particular. Where's his wedding ring? Yoongi always wears it no matter what. The same sick feeling from before returns tenfold. No wonder that Ms. Cho was all over him–she must have thought he was single.

“No, I didn’t get to lie down Yoongi. I worked all day, came home and made dinner, called the cable guy to get that stupid bill figured out, and now I’m doing the second load of laundry. I’m really just not in the mood to chat.” It comes out a blur as you snatch the empty laundry basket and head for your washer and dryer, your eyes welling up with tears.

“__, wait.” Yoongi tosses the last pillow near the headboard and stops you in your tracks, his hand firmly gripping one end of the laundry basket. The intensity of his stare softens as he speaks. “I'm sorry if it seems like I'm forcing you to talk. I know you've been losing a lot of sleep recently between work, Jia, and upkeeping the house. We just don't get a lot of time to see each other anymore and I miss you…I miss talking to you."

With every ounce of self-control remaining, you hold back any tears that risk spilling out. You don't know why you're acting like this, why you're crying over something that seems so small and insignificant to the rest of the world. Yoongi loves you. He's said it a million times and proven it to you over and over again, for eight years now. He wouldn’t cheat on you, yet you still get so worked up about the idea that someone could take him away from you. Someone half your age, more attractive, or hell even the opposite sex if it means fewer dark circles under their eyes.

"Why- why aren't you wearing your ring?" Your naturally confident voice dwindles to the whisper of a mouse. It's completely out of character, nevertheless, here you are.

"I..." Your husband's voice wavers. His gaze flickers to his left hand, where his ring should be, but isn't. "Shit...I took it off in the shower this morning," he confesses, frustrated by his forgetfulness. "I was in such a rush to get Jia to daycare, and me to work, that it completely slipped my mind. I'm sorry—I fully intended to put it back on." He pauses, then perks up. "It's still in the bathroom. I'll be right back, okay?"

You watch as he makes a beeline for the master bathroom, eager to rectify the situation as soon as possible. You should have kept silent what you say next, but you don't.

"No wonder the moms at Jia's daycare were so drawn to you."

"What?" Yoongi stops in his tracks. The dumbfounded expression on his face tells you that you've caught him off guard again.

"Jia told me about someone named Ms. Cho," you reluctantly continue. "The two of you were laughing and talking and–"

"Baby, don't worry about that." Seizing his chance, your husband walks back over to you and sneakily pulls the laundry basket from under your arm. He sets it on the ground after, then reaches to take your hand in his, but stubbornly you cross your arms.

"Her name's Sandra," he starts explaining. "She's a new mom at the daycare and she didn't know anyone, so she started talking to me. I got the sense she was a little overly friendly but it was all small talk, nothing more."

Still largely unsatisfied, you remain unmoved. "If it wasn't a big deal then why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Because nothing serious happened. The majority of the conversation was her venting about her ex-husband and me wishing you were right there next to me. Please believe me. All I could think about was finally being able to come home to you after a long week with Jia in our arms."

"Really?" Well, now you're feeling guilty for avoiding him in nearly every way tonight. Guilty for believing such wild assumptions that he'd leave you for someone else over one measly conversation. Guilty for letting yourself get so worked up over a situation you, quite frankly, knew few details about.

"I mean it doll." This time, when he reaches out to grasp your wrist, he succeeds. He intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you to the edge of your bed, gently pulling you down to sit on his lap. "Do you really think I could look at anyone else the way I look at you? Or think about you the way I have for the last eight-plus years we've been married and known each other?"

You hesitate your answer, averting his eye contact. "I know but…"

"No, don't finish that. Look at me," he intercepts. "You and our daughter are the only women on my mind–24/7. I can't get either of you out of my head and I don't want to. I'm so sorry I forgot to put my wedding band back on this morning, and again tonight. I feel awful about it and I'll be more careful from now on. And another thing, when Sandra and I were talking I mentioned you multiple times. So, it's clear to her that I'm a happily married man."

The last bit of information manages to perk your ears. "You talked about me?" Your eyes widen as you finally shift your full attention to him. Yoongi eyes widen with you, amused by your sudden change of heart to look at him.

"I said my wife is an amazing mother, works too hard for her own good, and needed to rest today. Give or take a few words."

That's all? You huff to yourself. Would it been nice if your husband also thrown in that you were beautiful or stunning in that mix of compliments? Yes, yes it would have–again, you're pettiness clouds your better judgment. You're not as pissed off as before, but rather semi-irritated.

"Okay…well I guess it's fine then. I'm sorry for being short with you earlier. I shouldn't have made those rash conclusions about the ring and that woman from the daycare. It wasn't reasonable of me." You get up from his lap, yet Yoongi isn't entirely convinced that you're okay.

"There's still something you're not telling me. I can tell."

"No, there's nothing else." You waive him off, placing your hand on your bedroom doorknob "You told her you had a wife so it's fine. I need to switch the second load of laundry.”

"Come on, doll. Let's not leave things unsaid now."

Sighing at his plead, you find yourself giving into all your repressed thoughts and emotions. It swallows you up, like a tidal wave you can't stop. "Look at me Yoon. I'm sweaty, I have dark circles under my eyes, stretch marks, love handles, my hair's a mess, and all I wear are old sweats covered in stains. I'm nothing like I used to be! No wonder we aren't intimate anymore."

Yoongi rises from the bed at once, offended by the sudden digression. "Is that what this is all about? It’s not even about that single mom from daycare is it?" The truth of the matter sinks in as he speaks.

"I guess maybe so…though I'm still annoyed about that too." Great, you're back to square one again.

"Come with me, I need to show you something." Your husband gestures you to follow him, which you slowly concede to.

"What are you doing Yoon?" You both walk into the master bathroom, stopping in front of the large mirror above the sink.

"I'm showing you the woman I'm in love with and have been in love with for nearly eight years now. Sweats and all." Yoongi makes you face the mirror directly, hands around your shoulders. You have trouble stomaching the sight.

"Yoongi please, I can't. The laundry ringing off." You avoid looking into the mirror and make a move to leave the bathroom.

"Just stay with me a minute, please?" Your husband refuses to loosen his hold on you, turning your body so you're looking eye to eye. "No, you're not the same person as you were and neither am I. We're parents to a beautiful daughter now, who we love and adore. We're also overtired 90% of the time, juggling a million things at once. But there's one thing you can count on to always stay the same–my loyalty to you. I'll always be in love with you __, no matter what age you are or however way you look. There's nothing you can do to change that, so why fight it?"

Dammit. A single tear rolls down your cheek as you take in his heart-melting speech. It's not his words alone, it's the sincerity behind them. How he's repeated similar countless times before throughout your entire relationship.

"I love you, Yoon..." you choke out the words, composure fleeting.

"I love you so much, doll." He wipes the wetness of your tear with his thumb. "As far as us not being as intimate anymore, that's my fault. I don't ever want you to feel like I don't desire you every day. Why don't we send the kid to my parents this weekend and let me start making things right hmm?"

"I don't know if we can this weekend. Jia has a playdate on Saturday."

"So, I'll ask Mom to take her. She'll be happy to, trust me. We can finally watch that movie you've been dying to show me since what? December?"

"You're serious?" Your eyes light up at the mention of what is essentially a movie date. The show Yoongi's referring to is one you've been craving to see for months, yet neither of you has found the time to watch. "I've been talking about it for so long, Yoon."

"I know you have, it's why I suggested it. I've been wanting to watch it too with all the trailers you keep sending me. Plus, I'll be able to keep my beautiful wife in my arms for over two hours. That's a lot for us, especially with you being such a busy bee. I can never get you to light in one place! What's up with that, huh?"

Feeling your natural self re-emerging, you throw a playful swat to his arm and scowl at his teasing comment. "You're one to talk! You're basically a workaholic! Besides, you knew who you were marrying when you met me."

Yoongi chuckles and brings both hands to cup your cheeks, squishing them slightly. "A cutie who reads 800-page novels at a basketball game?"

"Stop babying me!" You pull his hands off your cheeks and rub them, trying to regain some composure. "I don't regret my choices, I like books. It's why I'm such a boss at work!"

"Okay, boss," he laughs. "What about what I suggested before then? I can call Mom tomorrow and ask her if she could watch Jia for the day. She'll take her to her playdate, then they can spend the rest of the day together."

It does sound nice, having the whole day with your husband.

"Okay," you agree. "Let's try."

"Good." Yoongi slides his hands down to your hips and pulls you flush against his chest. "How about we seal it with a kiss now?" You nod and he leans his head down, pressing an amazing, tender kiss to your lips. It makes you both giddy on queue.

"Read one more story, Daddy!" Jia leaps off her small, twin bed and bounds for her bookshelf. She lets out a series of giggles when a large pair of hands catch her, lifting her high into the air.

"I already read you three books kid," Yoongi says, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Bedtime." He then tucks her into her fluffy comforter, plugs in her teddy bear nightlight, and closes her bedroom door.

The next second, Jia comes running out of her room, latching onto his right leg. "I don't wanna go to bed. I wanna play!" Figures she'd be hyper at this hour.

Yoongi sighs and picks her up. "Daddy told you to go to sleep, it's not playtime. You'll have lots of time for that tomorrow when you get to see your friend." He then carries her into her room, yet she fusses in his arms; thumping her tiny fists into his chest.

"No, no, no, Daddy. I want to play!"

Sighing, Yoongi looks at his child with sharp eyes. "Jia–"

"Hey," you interrupt, entering your daughter's bedroom upon hearing the commotion down the hall. "What's going on?"

"Kid doesn't want to go to bed."

You give an empathetic look and saunter over to the pair, gently taking Jia into your arms. Yoongi places his hands on his hips as he watches you reason with your daughter.

"Jia, you know tomorrow's a big day right? You and Sana are going to go to the playground together." The child nods. "You don't want to be tired when you're playing do you?"

"No..." She shakes her head. "I want to be awake!"

"Then you need to listen to Daddy and go to sleep. That way you'll be full of energy tomorrow when you and Sana go on the swings or slide down all the big slides." You smile as Jia starts rubbing her drowsy eyes, yawning in the process.

"But I...okay," she slowly concedes, eyes fluttering shut as she gives into her sleepy state. Unsurprising to you and Yoongi, she was tired all along. But like most kids, hated going to bed.

"See?" You lay Jia in her bed and pull the covers up near her chin, giving her a light kiss on the side of her head. Yoongi bends down and does the same after you. "You just gotta talk to her a little, she'll typically fall asleep on her own."

"But I read her three of her favorite books." Yoongi shuts off the overhead light, along with the door to Jia's room, and follows you to your bedroom.

"That's different Yoon," you argue back. "Books excite her."

"She takes after you that way then." Yoongi pulls his t-shirt off, leaving him bare-chested, and climbs onto his side of the bed. You join him shortly after with your head resting on his chest and an arm thrown around his waist.

"I'm so exhausted," you yawn.

"Go to sleep, baby. I'm right here." Your husband places a hand over your wrapped arm, sending you off into a deep slumber.

Well this is just ironic. Almost 2 A.M. and you're wide awake.

What initially started as a nice, relaxing dream quickly turned into a terrible nightmare. In the dream, you woke up alone. Yoongi was gone. Jia was gone too. You can't exactly make sense of it, except for a vague memory of Jia calling another woman 'Mom'. You couldn't see her face very well, so it could've been anyone. You couldn't speak either, so even when you tried approaching the three, they couldn't hear you. You've had nightmares plenty of times, but this one is new. It's a clear projection of all the underlying concerns upheaved from earlier; insecurities, abandonment, loss, and it has you unsettled.

You glance over to your husband's side of the bed. He's fast asleep, no longer cuddling you due to you both flip-flopping in your sleep. You decide to slide closer to him, needing to watch him for a while. It might sound weird, but you love watching him sleep. He's so handsome and you feel a great deal of comfort doing so. Maybe if he was awake, you'd tell him about what you dreamt. Then again...maybe not.

"I love you Yoon," you whisper as quietly as you can, tracing his every facial feature with your eyes.

"'m, I love you too."

Is he-was he awake? As if caught red-handed, you quickly flit your face away in favor of the blank ceiling above. You weren't expecting him to answer at all, and in such a hoarse voice too. You're a little turned on by it to be honest.

"Can't sleep?" he speaks up again, eyes still closed.

"No, I''ll be okay though. You can go back to sleep. Don't worry."

He grunts, a tad unhappy with your dismissal of him. "Do you want to talk about it? Your dream?"

You whip your head in his direction. "How–" You pause, seeing his eyes blink open.

"I didn't meet you just yesterday, doll. I know they keep you up. Just know, I'm always here okay? Always." He reaches for you with delicate fingers as he continues. "Now, come here. Seems we got separated in our sleep."

You accept the offer and cuddle into him again. This time your noses nearly touch and his arm wraps around your lower waist. You feel the growing urge to kiss him, wanting to forget your nightmare entirely. But perhaps silly, you ask permission first, seeing as he's close to drifting off again.

"Yoon?"

"Mm."

"Can we kiss?" Your cheeks flush a little at the request. Why are you acting like this? You've been married for years.

"Sure, 'm tired but I could go for a make-out right now." A small smirk graces his lips as he teases you. You give him a classic 'Yoongi!' in reply. "I'm kidding. You don't ever have to ask me that," he finishes.

"Hmm, maybe I don't want a kiss anymore." You feign stubbornness, just to see his response. And a response he gives you, more than you're prepared for.

"You're ridiculous," he grumbles, capturing your lips in one fell swoop. He moves his lips against yours as the hand on your waist grips tighter. The tiniest of moans escapes your lips.

You attempt to break the kiss first, thinking it will only last for a few seconds. Yet Yoongi slips a hand behind your neck to bring you into another kiss. One that's deeper than the last. You feel your breath being taken away little by little, especially when his tongue licks into your mouth. God, you haven't kissed like this in an eternity. A wetness soon gathers between your thighs.

"'m, Yoon," you gasp when his cool fingers sneakily make their way under your shirt, tickling your bare skin. They travel the expanse of your waist, stomach, and up along your back. "So cold."

Yoongi pulls away from the kiss and retracts his fingers. He then lazily moves his body until his chest hovers over your own, rolling you on your back in the process. He's a bit of a blur due to the dimness of the room, yet you can see the whites of his eyes a bit better than before.

"Help me warm them then," he says, folding his hands on top of yours from where they rest on your stomach. "You're really burning up, doll."

His observation is right. Ever since you woke up, you're body's been hotter than normal. The stress is clear and it's only increasing due to the unexpected turn of tonight's events; your husband seemingly wanting to make love to you in the middle of the night.

"So I am," you reply, staring straight into his eyes. "Must be because of all the sudden surprises today. My body's finally responding to it all."

Yoongi nods, following your implication. "Well let's do something to calm it down, shall we?" He waits for your final go before making any abrupt movements.

"But...you haven't seen me–"

"Naked in a while?" he predicts your next words, unfazed. "I've seen it all, each time better than the last because I love you. You're beautiful to me, no matter what. Let me love you __. I've missed you. I've missed us."

"Okay...please," you sigh, desperately needing his touch. "It's been so long since we've been this close."

Neither of you has it in you to delay another second as you dive into another fiery kiss, your hands wandering up and down each other's bodies. You love his hair the most, so you run your fingers through it repeatedly. Your husband's soft grunts remind you that it's as pleasurable for him as it is for you, and as if to counter, he latches his lips to the curve of your neck.

"Yoon," you moan, shivering at the feeling of being peppered in open-mouth kisses. Your eyes automatically roll up as well.

Yoongi nips at your jaw next, featherlike, yet deadly to you nevertheless. He doesn't allow himself to linger more than a second, though, preferring to keep you on your toes. So with careful fingers, he begins lifting the bottom of your shirt.

"Can I?"

You hum in approval and lean forward for him to remove it.

With your nipples now exposed to the brisk air, stiffening due to arousal, Yoongi brings both his hands up to caress your boobs. He's incredibly gentle, telling you how beautiful you are once again until his thumbs start circling your peaked nipples. A rush of sensation shoots up your spine as he rolls them harder, flicking them once in a while.

"Fuck," you swear.

"Feeling good?"

All you do is nod fervently in response, which Yoongi takes as his signal to lower his head to your chest. He squeezes both breasts in his hand before wrapping his mouth around a nipple, licking and sucking relentlessly. He repeats the same to the other.

"Yoongi, I need you. Please." You're core tightens, thighs struggling not to rub together, as you plead with your husband to relieve you. You are so wet and getting wetter.

"I'm here, doll, I got you. Fingers first hm?"

He pushes part of the comforter towards the foot of the bed, then gestures for you to raise your butt. Any shred of mystery of how worked up he's gotten you slip away as he pulls your underwear and pants down your legs. They both get tossed on the floor, per usual.

Bare pussy exposed, Yoongi guides your legs further apart and brings a hand down to your entrance. One of his long, slender fingers traces up your folds so smoothly that you buck your hips upon the touch. He smiles lightly at the subtle response, pleased that you're finally enjoying yourself; too often you put your needs last. His finger slowly sinks into your well-lubricated pussy, velvety walls clenching around it.

"Oh, g-god," you give a shaky moan as his finger pumps and curls in you, stimulating your g-spot. "Need you now, Yoon, so bad."

"Mm not yet, we need to stretch you out. You haven't taken me for a good three or four weeks," he smirks at your eagerness, sliding a second finger next to the first. "This pussy is drenched but not enough. I need you to come. Can you do that for me?"

Fast, quick movements follow suit as your husband works you up to an orgasm. Oh fuck, oh fuck, you chant in near whines. Your pussy is spasming around him, walls tightening with each push and pull. You know when he draws his hand out that it's covered with your come. Messy, sex is messy and both of you are too far gone to care; the pleasure sweeping over you.

Finally, in what feels like an endless tease, you have your first orgasm of the night. You feel your body relaxing into the mattress again, yet your breath remains short. Yoongi, on the other hand, groans seeing your release dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. For a split second, there's a slight darkening in his eyes while he takes in your post-orgasmic form. The two fingers that had been inside you are sensually brought to his lips, slipping between the seam before being cleaned off.

You're taken aback by the action, though you've witnessed it before. Something about watching your husband willingly follow through with a gesture so lewd makes your head spin–you want him to fuck you right this instant. He must share the same feeling because you don't even need to sound the words due to his hands already making quick work of his pants.

"You drive me mad, you know that? Can never get a break with how sweet you taste. Your lips, your come. All of it makes me go mad." His full length comes in view, hard and tip leaking with pre-cum. You try not to let yourself stare at the thickness but hell, you must've forgotten the extent of your husband's size. You don't remember it being this big before.

"Well," you gulp. "You're not making it easy on me either, looking like this."

Yoongi climbs over to you again, settling into a straddled position, and looks deep into your eyes. "Who's fault do you think that is?"

"It's your fault." You bend your legs and wrap them around his mid-section. You can feel the tip of his cock tease at your entrance. The anticipation is beyond grueling.

"No," he says, aligning himself up to your weeping hole. "it's yours." He then thrusts his hips forward, his length sinking into you so perfectly it has you completely satisfied.

"Y-Yours," you whimper out, unable to form a steady sentence.

"Fine." He picks up his pace. "Let's just agree we both fuck each other up on a daily---ah fuck!" Yoongi growls and gives you a suspicious look when he feels your pussy suddenly clench around his length.

"I didn't do it on purpose this time! You're fucking me too good is all."

"Really? You're not just teasing me?"

Yoongi is slow to believe since you've purposefully clenched countless times before, simply out of playfulness. Tonight is different than those nights though because you're telling the truth–he's truly fucking you so good.

"What the hell," he concedes. "You feel so fucking fantastic, I don't even care." He continues his movements, thrusting into you with deep groans and labored breaths. His fingers grip the mattress harder with the veins in his neck bulging out.

Both your bodies move in sync as the familiar sound of skin slapping on skin echoes off the walls of your bedroom. You do your best to keep your moans low, not wanting to risk waking up your daughter.

"Yoon, fuck! I need to come, it's gonna-fuck-happen soon," you swear, pussy throbbing at the feeling of being so full after weeks of abstinence. You can tell you're reaching your high with the bundle of nerves in your core threatening to snap at any given moment.

Of course, you're wet too, extremely wet.

"I'm. Nearly. There." He barely sounds the words out, jaw clenching. "Just another minute, and we can finish together."

Your eyes, which haven't left his since he entered you, begin to glass over with tears. It's overwhelming; his love for you. No matter the doubts that tell you the opposite, you can't give in to their ugly lies. You'll continue to struggle, naturally, but you won't ever let them win. Yoongi's never once given up on you, and neither should you.

"I love you, Yoon...I love you with all my soul," you choke the words, falling apart all at once. "I'm sorry for today. How jealous and irrational I got."

"Don't apologize, doll. I shouldn't have let it go so far, our lack of intimacy and alone time. I promise we're going to make it all right okay?"

Giving you one last thrust, you both have your release at the same time. Yoongi helps ride your orgasm out by lazily continuing to grind into you. Yeah, you might need to shower and switch out the sheets after tonight, but you don't regret it one bit.

"In all seriousness baby," Yoongi speaks up, guiding your legs back on the soft mattress until you’re comfortable. "Don't feel like you have to apologize for everything. I understand your feelings and where you were coming from. I will say, the silent treatment kills me though. I'd rather you yell at me than not talk to me at all."

"It's not easy for me to raise my voice like that, Yoon." You throw your arms around his neck and sigh softly. "But I can try talking to you more, or at least tell you I need some time to process before I'm ready to have a conversation. I don't know, am I making sense?"

"Plenty of sense. I'll share more about my day with you and who I'm talking to as well. We'll also carve out time to have together. I love our daughter, but I don't see the harm in reaching out to our friends and family to babysit once in a while."

"Well, this sounds good to me," you hum.

"Me too." Yoongi smiles wide and goes in for another warm kiss. Your eyes flutter shut in unison.

This is what love feels like.

a/n: LMK what you think 🥰

Masterlist | Requests: closed | Taglist | Fic Recs

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[lenakluthor]

totally random question but do you read supercorp fics? and if yes, which ones are your favorites?

i absolutely read supercorp fics! i've been devouring ao3 basically since i finished the show. here are a few of my faves: people will say we're in love by AKAWWJJD - this was recommended to me by a friend and was the second ever supercorp fic i read. it's angsty, but it's BEAUTIFUL and it's one of my favorite fics from any fandom, ever. it's basically a rewrite of crisis and the aftermath of that (with a heartbreaking, post-reveal beginning), and it's just so, so good. it really set the bar for me in terms of supercorp fics and i still think about it to this day. it's heartbreaking and poignant and just. perfect.

the banks of certain rivers and ever more light by @i-am-robie - these two go together, but if you only read one, read ever more light (although i highly suggest reading both). i found this one through a gifset based on the fic, and i am SO happy i did. this is the fic that made me believe in fluff again. i'm not kidding, before i found this fic, if it wasn't tagged as angst, i was not reading it. this one? completely changed my opinion. it's so soft and sweet and it gives you the same butterflies and good feelings kara gets around lena. i actually love these so much that i am in the process of binding them into a book.

same old blues by @searidings - this one is, in my opinion, hands down the best portayal of lena i've read so far. it captures her anger and hurt and emotions so well and it just feels exactly like lena. it picks up after the end of season four and is exactly how i imagine lena's reaction to kara being supergirl. obviously it's canon divergent, but this one just really nails lena. it's angsty and emotional and just SO good. the author describes it as "horny enemies to lovers" in their note and that really sums it up pretty well.

you're in my blood, like holy wine by @jazzfordshire - this one is one of my favorite AUs. it's a loose practical magic AU with witch!lena, but much more developed and fleshed out than in the show. not only does it have really well written supercorp, but it also showcases a really well done friendship between lena and sam. i'm gonna be real i'm very picky about AUs, but this one GOT me. i definitely recommend it.

i also highly recommend checking out all four of those authors' other works. robie has an AU that i really enjoyed, searidings has a fun little competitive supercorp one shot, jazzfordshire has one of my favorite smutty one shots, and AKAWWJJD has a mxy rewrite that is just wonderful.

i've read so many more that were really worth reading, so i highly recommend scrolling through the supercorp tag on ao3 and filtering out the results to find ones you might be into. i could've mentioned a bunch more that i enjoyed, but i figured i'd keep it to my top four and the honorable mentions because the authors all happened to have multiple i love. i've also got like, more than 40 open ao3 tabs currently, so i know my favorites list will definitely be growing.

[chuluoyi]

UNHOLY MATRIMONY — 13

✩°｡ ⋆ seize your happiness

- fushiguro megumi x oc/reader - oc/reader's character name is hara sena, pronouns still refer to “you” and i won’t mention it often—just for the sake of aesthetic rather than repeatedly writing "y/n"

in another life, in which fate is still screwing his life over, Fushiguro Megumi finds himself in an arranged marriage―with you.

genre/warnings: arranged marriage au, angst, hurt/comfort

notes: i know i said this chapter will be the last... but apparently i still have a lot to say so... :') don't worry. chapter 14 will be the last chapter for real. pls bear with the angst one more time! and this turned out as a whopping 5k too oops

✩°｡ ⋆ unholy matrimony (masterlist) | chapter twelve : the most twisted curse <- previous ✩ next -> last chapter : to the one i love

What does happiness mean to you now?

When you finally woke up from your long dream and saw Megumi, you thought you were the happiest because for so long, you defined being with him was enough to make you forget all the shit you had been through in this horrible life.

"Sena...?" You heard him before you saw him. His voice cut through the blur that veiled your vision and you could barely discern his figure.

Megumi immediately got a hold of your arm, eyes wildly focusing on yours as you fluttered your eyes open. And when you blinked, his voice almost broke― "Sena!"

You felt rigid, like a broken doll. Megumi grasped your left hand tightly in his, intertwining your fingers.

"You woke up..." he muttered with a strained, choked voice. He was still out of focus but you could hear him very well. "You really woke up... Thank god..."

And through his voice, you recognize pain. Several things ran through your mind then. Why is he here? Is he safe?

What about Kurusu Hana?

Yet then all of them didn't seem to matter. He is here. Whatever happened, he is really here. He didn't leave you after all.

Still, a part of you suddenly harbored suspicions that he might abandon you once again, and so you didn't dare to hope, and you were even convinced of it when you felt a lump in your throat—

You clawed on the skin of your neck in utter panic when you found that no sound came out of your vocal chords. Megumi obviously noticed your distress― "Hey, what is it? What do you feel―?"

But then you were gasping for air and Megumi didn't think anymore. He hit the nurses' call button and held you as you trashed on the bed. "Sena, hold on―hold on! I've called the doctor! You're going to be okay, you hear me?"

The heart monitor connected to you was blaring, your whole body was now shaking, and you turned to him helplessly like a fish out of water, mouth gaping to let out any sound but unable to. You couldn't speak― it felt as if someone had stolen your voice and tightened a vice around your throat.

In that moment, Megumi caught the sheer terror in your eyes, and he bent over to pull you in an embrace. "I'm here. I'm here. Focus on me. Let's take a deep breath together―"

He coached your breathing, and gradually, you started to calm down. The heart monitor in your room no longer blared like a siren, and your fingers clung to his shirt with a grip stronger than you intended.

"You're okay..." Megumi whispered in your ear, disregarding his own thundering heartbeat by reassuring you. "You hear me, Sena? You're going to be alright."

Right in this moment, nothing else mattered. You got him back. And he was here, with you. You were certain you had never felt such a profound mix of happiness and relief in your entire life.

The doctor and several nurses then swarmed the room and took over to check on you. Dizziness washed over you—their voices merging into a cacophony that made your feel exhausted, and before you knew it you fell back asleep.

. . .

"After experiencing trauma, it's not uncommon for a patient to develop a post-traumatic mutism," the doctor explained, and Megumi was listening intently. "In most cases, the patient will regain their ability to speak after attending several therapy sessions, so you don't need to worry, sir."

Megumi let out a long sigh. "Is there any long-term side effects from this?"

"No. If the patient made full recovery, then I'd say there's a low chance of any further complications."

Once the doctor left the room, Megumi resumed his post next to your bedside once again, observing your sleeping face.

His heart broke under the weight of the reality laid to him. You had endured a trauma so severe after your duel with Naoya it left you mute. Ultimately, he saw it as a reflection of his own failure to protect you too―he was supposed to be the one to go against him. And yet, you...

Seeing you struggle to breathe like that was terrifying. As your chest heaved with every breath, Megumi felt a slight relief wash over him.

At least you're now truly safe. At least... nothing more can harm you here.

Megumi is always here.

Days after you first regained consciousness were slow and idyllic, and Megumi was always ready to attend to your every need. Though you supposed that he had to, as your guardian, since you had no one left.

With your voice still not returning, communicating with him proved to be a little challenging.

"Do you want some water?" he inquired, approaching with a glass and the pitcher in hand. You shifted your gaze away from the boring magazine the hospital had supplied and nodded.

"Here." Megumi handed you the glass and you took slow sips, before fixing your eyes on him.

It's been days. But neither of you had talked about what happened. Before now, the last you'd seen Megumi was when he left you during Zen'in's last hearing, when every bit of your dirty secret was exposed before him.

The memory of that day still made you shiver. The absolute hopelessness you felt, the way Megumi looked at you, his cutting words―

"Hey, Sena―" Megumi's got a grip on your shoulders, face contorting in worry. "What's wrong?"

You looked right into his dark green eyes, and saw nothing but concern. None of the Megumi who was so ready to cut all ties with you back then.

You were flattered that he was here, but still, you needed answers.

Reaching out for the notebook and pen Megumi had gotten you for your temporary communication, you scribbled your burning question.

Why are you here?

Megumi wouldn't admit it, but his heart sank upon reading your inquiry. The fact that you felt the need to ask it was just heartbreaking.

"You were badly injured. How can I not be here?" he responded, shoulder sagged. "I should be the one asking you―how could you have gone to Zen'in Naoya in the first place?"

Then it dawned to you. Your letter. He dropped everything to get you.

I have to end him with my own hands.

"Still! That's not―!" Megumi almost raised his voice before he caught himself. "That's not any reason for you to face him in a duel!"

He would have gone after you if I didn't.

"That's what should have been. You should've let him gone after me." There was something inside him that was this close from bursting and he was trying his hardest so it wouldn't. "At any given chance, you should've prioritized your safety first. And back then, even I―!"

I've left you. Megumi let out a sharp breath and looked away. He couldn't bring himself to say it.

You blinked at him, getting a sense of what he meant, and reached for your pen again.

I also did it for myself. He murdered my mom. I just wanted to end it with him.

"What do you― why do you have to―?!"

In that moment, Megumi felt as if he had been slapped in the face. He made you think that way. It was dreadful that you chose that self-destructive path because these unfortunate chains of events.

He was still grappling with the overwhelming guilt when you presented him with your next question.

Aren't we getting a divorce?

"No." His response was swift and resolute, his gaze boring straight into you. "Never."

You looked at him questioningly because you could still vividly recall the divorce papers you tearfully signed and left with Kurusu Hana. And seeing your confusion, Megumi thought he had to set it straight.

"It's my fault," he began. "I shouldn't have― I shouldn't have left you back then. And I should've never left you with the divorce papers. I wasn't in the right mind."

You looked down, pondering his words. Sure, he wasn't in the right mind―but at one point, that was what he wanted.

It still made you a bit uncomfortable.

Megumi held your shoulders again, sincere eyes piercing into your heart. "I regret it all. I really do. If I could turn back the time, I wouldn't leave you as I did."

Your eyes widened, wonderstruck, when a tear trickled down his cheek.

"You stupid." He brought you into his arms then, voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry― I'm sorry for making you feel that you are alone. I'm sorry for leaving you. But even so, please, do not ever, ever put yourself in that kind of danger again. If something happens to you, I―"

His body was now trembling, and you put your hands around him. "How... could you scare me like that...? H-how could you just leave me with that letter... and tell me not to find you? Don't you know how frightened I was...?"

You didn't really know what you were feeling right now, feeling the dampness in your shoulder as he cried for you. Touched, sad, happy―all these emotions swirled within you at the same time. But still, the irrefutable truth was...

You are in love with this man. You were sure of it.

But...

"Me...gumi..."

Almost faint, but he heard it. Your voice that he had missed so much. Megumi pulled away from you, searching your face, and greeted by your soft smile.

You reached out for him and wiped his tears with your thumb. "Don't... cry..."

"Ah..." He pulled you into his embrace again, this time tighter. He buried his face in your neck, the ache in his chest almost made him burst as he shook with tears. "I'm so... so glad...! Sena, I―I'm really glad you're s-safe..."

And you are glad that he is too. That he is this concerned about you. That he loves you still.

. . .

And in the weeks that followed, you really thought you could sweep it under the rug and forget everything.

You thought that you wouldn't want nothing more now that he was back to you, as yours. You thought you'd be content with everything, even if you had to pick up the shattered remains.

But that wasn't the case. Not really.

Because every now and then, you still remembered how you betrayed him, and also the searing ache of heartbreak of when he left you.

...and so long as you still felt this way, you thought, it would be hard for you to be truly live the happy life your mother had wished for you.

Something about you had changed.

Megumi supposed it was the effect of the trauma you had experienced, and so he never brought it up―it wouldn't be fair to compare the current you with the you before the incident.

You two were back to living in his apartment after you were discharged. Your voice had come back, although sometimes you still experienced trouble in speaking. But despite it all, Megumi didn't really care, he was ready to weather it all with you.

His sense of guilt intensified whenever he caught you touching your throat. Thoughts like "I should've been there." or "I should have never let her so unprotected" popped up in his head more often than he would have liked.

Both of you had gone back to the way it was supposed to be. Neither of you should have any prolonged worries... After all, Zen'in fiasco, from the unethical mass massacre and Naoya's doing afterwards, had been sorted out by Gojo― both of you were essentially free of them now.

So... why do you still look like you are on edge?

"I'll make breakfast today," he said on one morning after waking up. "Stay on the bed longer. I'll call you when it's ready."

You still looked positively sleepy as you pulled up the covers to your face and it warmed his heart. You were adorable, yawning and mumbling, "Thank you, Megumi."

He openly smiled, and went to the kitchen. A simple breakfast of beef and bacon would do, he concluded, and that was what he did. Afterwards, he did call and lead you to have breakfast with him.

You were still rubbing sleep off your eyes when he said it―

"Look, it's done―"

Suddenly you stiffened. Perhaps you were hypersensitive because it was still morning, but the way he said it reminded you of his words from that day.

“It’s done. We’re done. I don’t want to see you ever again.”

You tried not to let it show, as you sat in front of him. You really did, because Megumi seemed particularly happy this morning, you couldn't bear to burst his bubble.

"I personally prefer scrambled eggs over sunny side up, so that's what I made," he explained, motioning towards the plate with two servings of scrambled eggs with hints of a grimace. "Are you okay with it? Do you want me to make something else for you?"

"Ah, no, no... it's fine," you replied almost instantly, forcing a smile. "Thank you."

His lips curved into a gentle smile as he said, "You're welcome. Let me get that for you."

And that was when it happened. His hand brushed against yours―and in response, you retracted your hand away too quickly as if scalded.

Megumi was stunned. "Sena...?"

He looked at you, and noticed the faint tremor that passed through your body. In that moment, everything around him crashed once again.

Why?

"Are you..." he was almost in disbelief saying it. "...afraid of me?"

"Megumi― sorry," you blurted out, not looking at him. "I―I don't feel too well. I'll have breakfast later... I'll go lie down for a bit."

Before Megumi could respond, you had already risen and exited the dining room. Adding to the weight on his already heavy heart, you didn't head to your shared bedroom but instead, to your old bedroom from before you moved in with him.

Suddenly he felt hollow. Memories of the past months flooded into his mind like a fast-paced train wreck.

Leaving you. No contact at all. Finding you in that pool of blood.

Everything that happened then, both of you couldn't possibly pretend that any of them didn't exist. At least, not anymore.

It has been awkward few days ever since then.

This gnawing feeling inside you― the ache, it's still there. The guilt. The nightmare. It's still there. You just want all of them to disappear.

You love Megumi and you want nothing more than being with him. But at the same time, you don't want to be with him― not like this.

They said let bygones be bygones, but it was impossible for you to pretend you were content and everything was fine while you were haunted by the nightmares of the day you made that deal with Gojo and Megumi leaving you with nothing to say for yourself.

To be happy, you need a clean slate. Or at least a time for yourself to think it over.

And so you reflected hard on yourself. What you wanted for yourself, what you thought was best for both of you.

You felt bad for Megumi too. He was visibly shaken ever since that day, and yet you were only there, feeling numb and at a loss for words, only able to mutter nothing more than apologies.

In the end, it boils down to this. You couldn't run from it any longer. Even though it'd most definitely bring both of you pain and sadness, you very well know that if you survived this, then...

"Megumi, I'm sorry for... the other day."

A week later, on that particular evening, he had just returned from headquarters and you met him at the living room.

Megumi looked startled, before flashing you a warm smile. "Ah, that again? Don't worry, Sena. It's fine." Glancing at the clock, he turned back to you. "Oh, have you eaten yet? I bought takeout on the way home."

His smile looked off. You tried to push the uncomfortable feeling in your chest away.

You steeled yourself and looked at him right in the eyes. "Megumi, I... I want to talk to you. Can you... sit here with me?"

It was hard to pull this on him. Really, really hard. But you swallowed the weight and bit down your lip when he took a seat in front of you.

"What is it?" he inquired with concern. "Don't be that tense... you can talk to me about it, alright?"

So be it then.

"I... think we should consider having a divorce."

Megumi never imagined he would find himself confronted with this very question a second time.

His first reaction was a blink. Then his heart sank to the pit of his stomach. And then a frown, before he exhaled sharply―

"Why?" his voice came out way harsher than he intended. For the life of him, he didn't understand why. He felt hurt. So hurt, in fact, you had no idea. "What is it that you're feeling this time? Why did you never tell me before this?"

"I―" Your voice faltered, caught off guard, yet your sincere eyes remained steady. "I'll tell you now."

Megumi could see how strained you were. You were clearly trying hard to keep yourself together. He wanted to hug you, but not before you explained yourself.

"Megumi, first of all... I want you to know that I love you." Your voice began to tremble. "I love you... and I'm sorry for using you and taking advantage of your feelings. And I'm happy being with you... That hasn't changed."

"I know it already." He clenched his fists tightly, wiling the pounding of his heart at bay. "Then why―"

"I feel like we've been avoiding this, I don't know―I'm sorry. In the end, it's more of a me thing―it's not your fault at all."

Megumi closed his eyes, suddenly he felt overwhelmed by it all.

"This guilt I've been carrying with me... and you..." you took a sharp intake of breath. "Maybe something is wrong with me― I kept telling myself that now you're with me and everything will be okay... I tried to convince myself, but then I can't forget the way you look on that day―"

"If it's that, then I'm sorry―"

"No," you quickly interjected. "You had every right to be angry. I don't blame you for that, Megumi. I'm not upset, not anymore... the problem is... it doesn't make it any less hurt."

Those words suddenly seemed to ring in his ears.

A sob broke finally through your lips. "And s-so long as I'm still not over all of this... then I-I don't think I... ―we... can be truly happy together."

God, why must your fate be this complicated?

Your unholy matrimony was not expected but falling in love was a blessing, and still, you ended up hurting each other. If you still feel hurt, then the same also goes for him―he too still carries the guilt for letting you face Naoya alone, regardless of how the circumstances justified his actions.

Megumi gritted his teeth in frustration. "And so, you suggest that we're better off having a divorce?"

You cried a little harder, unable to give him an answer.

“Can’t I do anything to make it better for you?” Megumi felt like a knife just lodged itself in his chest as he looked at your tear-streaked face. “I’ll do anything—everything you want me to do, just not this—Sena, please—”

“I… w-want to be happy, Megumi,” you managed to say amidst tears. “As much as I love you… I also want to love myself too… just the w-way my mother wanted me to.”

His heart was crushed, hearing you.

“I want us… to m-meet again in better circumstances,” you forced out the words. “With no one to force us or make us choose anything… a day w-when… we can freely choose each other…”

“I’ll always choose you.” Megumi’s voice wavered as he held back his own tears. “You don’t need to wait for that because I always will.”

A tearful smile formed in your lips in response. “Thank you, but I just… want more t-time… for myself, Megumi. To sort my life—my f-feelings... and everything else out.”

He let out a grunt, as the first of his tears slid down his cheek, before he squeezed his eyes shut and covered them with his hand. Pain throbbed in his head and chest. It was too much.

“Do you…” is this it? is this how it ends? “Can you… at least tell me… what you’re going to do from now on?”

Before, when he asked you this, you had no answer for yourself. But this time, you didn’t flinch.

“I want to go back to Kyoto,” you immediately replied. “I… want to start anew there. And honestly… I don't want to continue doing jujutsu any longer so... I think I’ll start a new business to get by.”

A new start. Leaving jujutsu sorcery behind. That life honestly sounds so nice to Megumi’s ears too he was tempted to follow your footsteps.

“That’s good.” His voice was thick and heavy, and you were on the verge of sobbing once again. “That’s… really neat..."

He didn't want this. He couldn't bear to let you go. He was desperate to find a way to make you stay with him.

"Is this... really, truly what you want, Sena?"

You sniffled. "...Yes."

It seemed as though the knife in his chest had been twisted and made his insides bleed. He still couldn't make sense of it. His vision kept blurring with tears.

But ultimately... you have to be happy. After all of shitshows in this screwed up life you two share... you deserve to be happy the most.

It was difficult for him, it pierced through the most tender part within him to utter these words—

"Then... let's do it. If it's want you want and you're sure of it... then I'm willing to let you go." Lies. All of them. "Just… —please just be well. Don’t get sick, don’t stay up too late, and don’t push yourself too hard—”

Your sniffles turned into sobs.

“And— know that…” Megumi willed himself so that he wouldn’t break down in front of you completely, taking a deep breath. “I want only the best for you. I love you— that’s why.”

You were sobbing again then, utterly heartbroken. You felt really bad, and yet you knew this was necessary.

As your parting words, you just wanted him to know—

"Megumi... f-for everything these past eight months… thank you," you managed to say, your voice choked with tears. "I’ve been happy with you… and I... I don’t regret meeting you even for a moment."

The knowledge that you did feel that way was like a consolation for him. Megumi was thankful too that he had met you.

. . .

. . .

. . .

And just like that, in that winter, your divorce was finalized, and you moved to Kyoto.

Six months later

The idea of a fresh start seemed appealing. Living in Tokyo had become suffocating. She reckoned it was finally time to move forward and put everything to rest.

“Oh, Hana-chan! Where are you going?”

Kurusu Hana put her duffel bag on the floor, looking back to find an elderly woman—her neighbor in this apartment building, as she locked the door to her unit one last time.

“Ah, granny,” she greeted with a friendly smile. “You aren’t usually awake this early.”

“Nevermind that— are you moving out, Hana-chan?”

“Oh yeah… Granny, haven’t you heard? The landlady is about to double the pay rent. It’s too much for this shabby place. I don’t want to live here anymore.”

“Really?! That conniving woman… I’ll talk to my husband and find another place soon too!”

“Hehe, please do.”

“Best of luck for you, Hana-chan.” The granny said. “I’ll miss having hotpots with you... You have been a really bright presence here.”

Something inside Hana lurched at her kind words. “Ah… me too, granny. Please take care of yourself too…”

Someone would miss her even when she was gone. This notion, simple as it was, once seemed impossible to Hana. Living all alone by herself all her life, she had grown accustomed to such thoughts.

And in her first time falling in love too… the man in question didn’t even return her feelings back.

But as they said… life goes on. Even when Megumi never looked at her way, then it just meant that they were never meant to be. She couldn’t wallow in this ridiculous one-sided love forever.

“Yosh! Hana, it’s okay! It’s going to be fine!”

As she stepped outside, she realized that summer was here already. And with that she was even convinced— with the new season came a new beginning, and this time, she was determined to find her own happiness.

“Ahh! It’s hot!”

Yuji stretched his arms in the air, scrunching up his face as he had a look around him. “Kugisaki, do you have any idea where we’re going next? Seriously, I can’t with all this temples.”

Nobara threw him a dirty look. “You are so useless. The very least you can do is look at the maps.”

“Well, it’s too hot here! And these view of temples and shrines are giving me goosebumps—”

“Hey! What you said counts as blasphemy you know! Kyoto is cultural heritage!”

Yuji then looked around. “Come to think about it… Where’s Fushiguro? Wasn’t he with us after checking in the hotel just now?”

“Ah, he said he wanted to go out a bit before we go to the exorcism site… He didn’t say where though.”

“Wha? Wait, we can’t go without him!”

[Nov 21] Megumi: Sena, have you arrived safely? I hope you’re not having a rough time. If you do, you can tell me

[Nov 23] You: hi megumi! sorry for not replying—i’ve been so busy with moving in here, it’s been hectic. and yes, i’m good here! :)

[Nov 24] Megumi: That’s good then. Well, take care

[Dec 10] Megumi: I’ve heard there’s an earthquake in Kyoto. Are you alright?

[Dec 10] Megumi: If you see this… Please answer me. I’m worried

[Dec 10] You got 8 missed calls from Megumi

[Dec 10] Megumi: Are you hurt? I’m trying to find a bullet train ticket to Kyoto but none are available

[Dec 13] You: gosh i’m so sorry for answering now! it’s been chaotic. internet and electricity are affected by the damage :(

[Dec 13] You: but no worries! you don’t have to come here, megumi! i’m fine! i evacuated safely and my building is still standing!

[Dec 13] Megumi: That’s a relief… Do you need anything? I can get you some things. Bullet trains to Kyoto will run again tomorrow, I can go there

[Dec 13] You: no no! really, thanks, i’m totally okay! most of buildings here are earthquake-resistant so don’t worry!

[Dec 13] You: still, thank you for worrying about me, i really… really appreciate it

[Mar 15] Megumi: It's been a while. Have you been well?

[Mar 16] You: hiii megumi! haha, you don’t have to be that formal, really. it’s been good here. cherry blossoms have bloomed, they’re so pretty!

[Mar 16] You: what about you? are you busy these days?

You had left everything behind in Tokyo—your life as jujutsu sorcerer, tears, nightmares, and sadness, or as much of it as you possibly could, at the very least.

Starting over was hard. You almost regretted it several times especially when the lonely nights were too much for you, or when earthquake shook Kyoto and left you reeling.

But at the same time, it brought you satisfaction. When you successfully opened your own small cafe just last week, it felt like all your efforts had finally paid off.

It felt good to stand on your own two feet. To do things you want. With no one to dictate what you should do. By all means, this is the dream life you've wanted... you just wished that your mother could’ve seen this too.

Spending time for yourself has been healing. And life is far better here, but still...

You miss Megumi. How could you not, especially when he occasionally sent you a text? You were touched that he was still trying to stay in touch at all, and also how he showed his concern for your well-being.

But it was now May... and he hadn't replied to your text since March.

You tried to brush it off. After all you got the divorce for this very reason. You wanted to regain your sense of normalcy again— "normal" as in before everything went down with Zen'in mess.

But perhaps someday, when you're ready, if he would still have you... then maybe...

Brushing off your thoughts and maybe, longing, you left your phone to attend new patrons when the bell to your cafe jingled.

Unbeknownst to you, after unconsciously waiting for him this long, your phone buzzed and its screen lit up with new notifications—

[May 3] Megumi: Today, I'm in Kyoto

[May 3] Megumi: I miss you, Sena. I really do

✩°｡ ⋆ next -> last chapter : to the one i love

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some of you can't be tagged bc of the settings! :(

i'm so sorry for repeated mentions, it's not showing in the tags and i'm trying to fix it :(

[vettelsvee]

YOU'RE JALEOUS | Charles Leclerc

f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | instagram

charles leclerc x reader

summary: charles gets jaleous of lando when he sees him talking with his girlfriend 

wordcount: 1529

a/n: it's been a long time coming but i'm finally here! i've actually had this saved on my drafts for quite a long time BUT never posted it. however, since we got charles pole today, i thought you might like this even tough is a crap (i'm so sorry, you absolutely deserve better works) :)

you can send your one shots requests here or via anon! feedback, as well as comments and reblogs, are truly appreciated!

Charles and you decided to attend a party they had been invited by someone the driver didn’t even know, that took place at one of the most famous venues in Monaco. Although you initially felt intimidated because none of Leclerc's colleagues had appeared yet, as you drank a few drinks, the music seemed interesting enough for you to dance along with the twinkling lights.

To say that Leclerc was happy with his performance on the track that afternoon would be a li. His pride was immense because he had finally achieved the victory: winning not only for the first time in 2024 season, but also winning his very own home race for the first time ever. This had led to great acclaim not only from his fans but also from specialists, the press, the team, and even his colleagues, who were eagerly awaiting il predestinato's return to the victories.

In those moments, with his shiny black suit highlighting his appearance and, especially, his trained body, he felt unique, and even more so with you by his side. You were matching your partner perfectly with the dazzling dress you were wearing and that fit you perfectly.

As you enjoyed a drink in a quiet corner after a long time on the dance floor, Leclerc wrapped his arm around your waist, intending to bring you closer to his side. Your eyes met, somewhat mischievous, leading to a playful smile forming on your lips.

"Charles, you’ve been incredible in today's race," you exclaimed with excitement, proudly praising your boyfriend's talent. "I'm so proud of you."

Charles returned your smile, feeling filled with joy by your unconditional support.

"Thank you, darling. But what I'm proud of, and also lucky for, is having you in my life," he responded tenderly.

You continued chatting animatedly without an apparent topic of conversation, ranging from what would be your next holiday destination to the upcoming race, which would take place in Canada. However, when you started talking about a charity event that Charles would have the opportunity to lead, your gazes turned to a familiar figure approaching you: Lando Norris.

"Hey, Charles! Congratulations on that first place!" Norris exclaimed, excited to see his friend.

"Thanks, Lando!" the mentioned replied enthusiastically, patting the McLaren driver on the back. "You did great too. A sixth place is not what I expected from those cars, but it was truly impressive taking into account the strategy they had for you."

"Stop talking about McLaren when you know we can talk about Ferrari," Norris joked.

You observed the interaction between the two drivers with a mix of pride and curiosity. At first, you decide to give space to both guys, letting them freely discuss the day's events without the attentive gaze of a girl. However, when you finished checking your social media and posted a few Instagram stories with photos you took that morning, you decided to join the conversation.

"Lando, have you forgotten about me?" you teased. "I'm still in shock from today's race. It was a real spectacle."

"Thanks, Y/N!" He stopped looking at you and instead turned to his friend. "What do you think if we celebrate our incredible, but true, achievements together now? No one else is coming, and I talked to Carlos earlier!"

You looked at Charles, seeking his approval. He, a bit tipsy, nodded with a smile.

"I had other plans in mind but I think we can actually postpone them. Right, Y/N?"

With such a declaration, you three headed to the dance floor, not without first ordering something to drink to accompany you in your enjoyment full of laughter, excitement and dance moves that were surely the ones from someone who’s had enough drinks for a day.

As you moved to the rhythm of the music, Charles noticed you stepping away from his side to join some members of the Ferrari team. He decided to follow you, ready to talk to his coworkers. To his surprise, you were chatting animatedly, in the midst of the crowd, with Lando, who had excused himself to go to the bathroom minutes before.

Jealousy and anger coursed through his body in a shiver. The Monegasque felt an urgent need to intervene and mark his territory. As much as he knew you didn't depend on him, and you were both completely independent individuals sometimes, moments like this were the ones where he felt a hint of insecurity about those who, apparently, dared, even minimally, to intrude on your relationship.

Forgetting his discretion and good judgment, Charles rushed towards you and the Brit, his eyes filled with determination and a threatening look on his face, ignoring the insults he had received from those drunkards he had punched.

"What's going on here?" he demanded to know in an authoritative and tense tone.

You and Lando turned, surprised, at Charles's intrusion. You looked at him, confused by the jealousy in your boyfriend's face. You were simply discussing with Norris the idea for a special party in Monaco the following week, just before the next Gran Prix, in honor of Charles’ recent victory.

"Love, you're misinterpreting things," you said, trying to stay calm. "We were just talking as friends," you emphasized the last word.

Leclerc clenched his fists in an attempt to control his anger.

"I don't want you to keep talking to him," he communicated harshly, surprising you greatly.

Lando intervened, trying to alleviate the tension and, especially, to calm his friend's apparent sadness:

"Dude, you have no reason to make a scene in front of everyone over an insignificant bout of jealousy. We're just having a friendly conversation about something for next week, okay?"

Leclerc's expression became even tenser, and his eyes narrowed as he noticed the symbiosis that you, his girlfriend, and Lando, his friend and opponent, seemed to have in hiding something.

"I wouldn't want to ask you again, so... What were you talking about?" Charles inquired in an even sharper tone.

Feeling you boyfriend's murderous gaze, you tried your best not to burst into tears over something as stupid as Charles's insecurity.

"Seriously, believe us," Lando spoke, trying to calm the brunette down. "You have to trust us, we were just talking about something we came up for next week just before Canada!"

The Ferrari driver tried to control his anger, if it was still possible. Meanwhile, he took his time to look at you with, once again, a mix of anger and disappointment, mainly for not answering him.

"And you, why don't you answer me? Are you only interested in him now?"

You looked at him surprised by such a comment, and tried to explain quickly:

"I'll repeat it again, honey: we were just having a friendly conversation! Lando is my friend and your rival, friend, or whatever you want to say it, but there's nothing more to it!"

Out of nowhere, Charles gently took you by the wrist and led you to a place where you could talk quietly. The green-eyed, despite having a bit more alcohol in his system than he should, knew he messed up and needed to fix it somehow.

"Y/N, please be honest: what were you talking about?" Leclerc asked with a concerned expression on his face for the scene he had caused.

"About what we could do in Monaco, here, next week, alright?" you responded, trying to reassure him. "You don't have to worry about anything"

"But why are you talking to him about racing?" the Monegasque insisted again, trying to calm his tone of jealousy. "I don't understand why you have to make plans with other drivers when you're my girlfriend."

"Charles, come on, don't be jealous!" you scolded with a playful smile. "Besides, what we were planning was a surprise party in your honor because, in case you don't remember, you just won your first home race ever. I don't think that's anything bad."

Charles felt really stupid at that moment.

"Are you jealous, my dearest friend?" Lando decided to intervene, who had been attentive the whole time to the intimate scene between the couple.

"What? No!" Leclerc replied as calmly as possible, his attempt in vain.

"Well, it seems quite the opposite to me," Norris said. "You should relax a bit. There's nothing wrong with your girlfriend talking to other drivers, even more so when she's preparing a party for you."

Il predestinato realized Norris was right and decided to calm down.You really didn't deserve the jerk behavior he was displaying at you at the moment.

"I guess you're right, Lando," he turned to you, timidly reaching for her hands. "I'm really sorry, Y/N, I shouldn't have behaved like that."

"It's okay, Charles. I understand that sometimes jealousy can be hard to control, I feel the same way sometimes about your fans, but I manage, not like you just showed me tonight!" you answer with a smile, hitting him in his arm.

Charles felt relieved to see that you had no interest in Lando beyond friendship and planning a failed surprise party in the process. Therefore, he just enjoyed the rest of the night with you, with his friend, and without having to worry about anything else.

[readbyred]

may i request how the dps boys would react to realising they have a severe crush on a, preferably shy, reader! tysm <\3

Oh, I've been waiting for dps requests! Sorry for my late replies everybody, I got demotivated again because tumblr deleted a few of my x reader posts (and a few others). But I'll try to not let that happen again if I can even help it

I think Knox would have such a silly time trying to approach you. Because we all know he’s awkward, but determined at best and, well… pushy at worst. I'm trying to go with the version I saw in a play, because thankfully they cut out the party scene which means he’s still delightfully insufferable but not awful. Anyways, he would jump on every occasion to talk to you. And then just. Stand there. He’d try to give you flowers and poems, everything really. But he loses brain cells every time he’s around you. At least you’re both equally stressed about social interactions. He gets a little braver when you give him a smile or any other sign you like him. Not less awkward, but a bit more motivated to go for it. His main problem is that he can't read you well and despite being big on feelings and all, he still has a hard time actually talking to you. Clumsily, he showers you with over the top things, that most would find cringey but you think of as endearing. And if he thinks there's a chance he’ll lose you, he’ll confess right away. I think he is brave and pretty open about feelings. Just stressed out

With Neil, it's not an issue at all that you're shy. He’s more so taken aback by his own strong feelings. Because he wasn't expecting to fall this hard. But give him like five work days to process and he’ll be all in. I feel like he would take his time to confess but he’d make it known that he cares about you. He’d be checking up on you every time he can, bringing you coffee, asking to practice lines together, go to the movies in town. Even before you two start dating you just wake up and half of his sweatshirts are in your drawer (he likes to borrow you his clothes if you’re cold) and your desk is littered with poems he shared with you. He’s a gentle lover, but he knows what he wants and when the time is right Neil has no problem confessing

It's much funnier with Cameron because this boy is in panic mode 24/7. At first he legit thought he was sick because he always felt dizzy and distracted around you. And he’s a traditionalist. Everything has to be perfect when you’re around. Like he beats himself up about every little mistake he made around you. But also makes a point to treat you RIGHT. If you’re shy he might not know how to approach you at first, because he’s not sure if you’re even interested. And how to make you like him. After much teasing (mainly from Charlie, of course) he gets fed up with his friends and decides to make a move. It might not be the most romantic when he does, but it's sweet and genuine

Another one that would take time to confess is Meeks. He’s pretty quick to accept that he’s crushing on you. He’s like, yeah obviously they are amazing, now what do I do with that? He tries to give you things. Small things. Like maybe he could borrow you a book that you’ve wanted to read for a long time of buy you a coffee/tea if you’re out in the town. He doesn't explicitly say that he liked you but it's easy to tell and he’s not one to be shy about it either. So when you guys do get together, you already know his more… romantic side

On the contrary, Charlie takes time to process his feelings. He had crushes before, but real feelings (strong ones at that) aren't the norm for him. Sometimes he catches himself losing his cool around you and it messes with him so bad. He would probably ask Knox for advice. Which is a bad move. But he figures that at least his friend is more familiar with having those sorts of feelings. Nothing much comes of it because I can't imagine Knox giving him any good advice on the subject, but after he was able to talk about liking you, he decides to just go for it. Well, in small steps. Primarily because he’s just not an intense guy, but also because he’s surprisingly mature when it comes to respecting your levels of comfort. Doesn't mean it gets boring though, it's Charlie we’re talking about. Once you get together there's not a one dull moment with him by your side

With Todd, it might be difficult at first. He’s overwhelmed by fis feelings and has a tendency to talk himself out of making any sorts of moves. Why would you like somebody like him? He tells himself he doesn't have a chance, surely. It only confirms his suspicions when you don't take initiative. It's only after he’s been moping around for a few days that Neil approaches him about it and proceeds to give him shit for not doing anything to let you know his feelings. He’s like, bro, so you care about them so much that you’d rather not have them in your life because you want them in your life so much??? Make it make sense. So with Neil's encouragement, he tries to at least talk to you and see where it goes from there. Still shocked when you end up returning his feelings. You’re in his poems now, even if it's not very obvious (he's not as straightforward as Knox, so it's not ‘i love (yn) and I want them to be mine’ kind of deal). This is the only one where I'm sure you might have to make some sort of a move. Todd’s like a spider - he’s more scared than you are and if he could, he would just silently hang out in the corner of the room you’re in. But he gets a little braver after he starts feeling more secure

Lastly, Pitts is not as bad as Todd, but still takes his time. He’s comfortable with liking you and he knows what he likes, but he’s not in any rush to make things official. So any time he has any chance to talk to you, he does and just wants to see how things go from there. He jokes around with you, asks to come study together, tries to be close. He does care, just in a more chill way than some of the other poets would. If you two have been talking for some time, he would have no problem asking you to go out with him, doesn't make you feel pressured or anything. If the others are cool with it he will do his best to have you come to their meetings at night as well. So you do not only get an awesome boyfriend out of it, but also a great friend group

[clockwayswrites]

A bitty bit and a poll... cw: post canon typical violence, blood, offer of smuttiness ship: Danny/Jason

“Danny.”

“Hood,” Danny said, pushing his hair back as he turned Jason’s way. His thumb ran over the shaved side of his head. A streak of blood trailed behind by the motion.

“What did they want?” Jason asked. He kicked at the side of one of the groaning thugs for emphasis as he strode over to Danny.

Danny just shrugged. “The usual.”

“Not supposed to be the usual in my territory,” Jason growled.

“Yeah, well,” Danny said with that crooked grin of his. There was something all the more feral about the grin that night between the blood and the way the harsh magenta neon that adorned the outside of Danny’s shop broke through the light rain. “I’m in that grey zone; not in one place or the other.”

“Shut the fuck up. You’re my mechanic so you’re my territory.”

Danny’s grin widened and he had the audacity to wink. “Kinky.”

“What did I say about shutting up?” Jason asked as he started to look Danny over for injuries.

Danny pliantly, and almost with amusement, let Jason check him over. When Jason found a cut on the other’s arm, he huffed, tossed the bloodied tire iron Danny was holding away, and started to roll up the sleeve of the black over shirt.

“It’s fine Hood, it’s nothing,” Danny said as he peered around Jason.

Without letting go of Danny’s arm, Jason pulled out a gun and twisted enough to point it at the thug who was helping the one Jason had kicked off the ground.

“This street is off limits.”

“Ain’t Crime Alley!” the one said, spitting blood. “Old Gotham is—”

“Right over there. This street? It’s mine,” Jason said. He cocked his gun for emphasis.

“It ain’t—”

“It ain’t worth dying over! Leave it!” the other thug hissed and tried to pull them away. “If fucking Red Hood says it’s his then it’s his! Now come on.”

“Make sure you take the rest with you,” Jason ordered. He kept his gun trained on them until they were long out of sight.

“Do I still have to shut up?” Danny asked cheekily into the silence. “Because I can think of some fun ways for you to make me.”

Jason turned slowly to look at Danny. “What.”

It wasn’t exactly a question. Jason knew what Danny was implying, but what?

Danny just shrugged, still with that smile. “Can’t a man thank his knight in leather armor? I mean, totally feel free to turn me down. I’m not going to pressure someone into that sort of thing, but I figured it didn’t hurt to offer. You seem like you’re a little tense—”

As if they weren’t just in a fight.

“—and could use the release. I’m not going to pretend that I would mind being between those thighs. So what do you say, wanna let me blow you?”

Danny might as well have hit Jason with that tire iron for how his thoughts scrambled at that offer. Who the fuck did that? Danny had no reason to. Jason already made clear that Danny was under his protection. Jason had also been ramping up the amount of work he gave to Danny versus handling himself. It wasn’t like the guy needed to offer sexual favors.

Jason shook his head, as if that would clear his confusion. “Next time or something. I’ve got work.”

“Sure, wouldn’t want to keep you,” Danny said and took a step back.

“Wrap that arm.”

“What arm?”

“Danny.”

Danny laughed and tucked his hands into his pockets as he backed up into his shop. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll wrap it. Go out there and take on the big bad night, hero.”

“I’m not a fucking hero,” Jason called after him. “And lock your damn door!”

Danny gave a cheeky salute before disappearing into the shop.

Brat.

---

AN: NOW, you all know by now, I'm sure, that I love playing around with how balanced Danny is as a half and his hair color and things like that. This is the new idea I was whining about earlier. It's going to be about as pwp as I'm able to get and supposedly a one shot. Danny is very, very forward, Jason is very, very confused (and later very, very satisfied). So all that said...

[beenbaanbuun]

Bunnnnyyyy I'm having yuyu withdrawals 😭😭

I recently stumbled across the spiderman yuyu edit on Instagram again and it has me running LAPS

Like can you imagine being roommates with photography major spider!yunho, noticing his odd disappearances and late nights but never saying anything, which he appreciates because lord knows he doesn't have the capacity for it rn sinde I'd headcannon this is right after his uncle's desth when he's still in his angry grief era.

But MC would be sweet even though he's cold and kinda mean, she wouldn't be nosy or pry, always asks him to eat with her out of courtesy (which isn't a big deal for her but it kinda chips away at his heart because she's so sweet about it).

Still he maintains certain boundaries till one day he comes home all beat up and bruised, and MC patches him back up, there’s so much tension in the room when she has to peel off his shirt to check the bruises on his sides, when he softly asks why she cares about him so much, when she quietly admits that it's because she likes him-

AKSHSKSHDKSDBJSBZSJ

I'm just..... obsessed with Yunho

-lyra

so this sent me a little insane and i wrote so much more than i was expecting to 😭😭 spidey!yunho has sent me down a rabbit hole and this is what we ended up with…

——————————————————————————“can we eat together tonight?” you ask as you stir the pasta around the pot. you made two portions, as usual, in the sheer hope that he wouldn’t be going out again. “i found this recipe i thought you’d like. i figured it might help cheer you up!” you shrug as if it’s no big deal.

but it is to yunho. as he picks his backpack up from the floor, he feels his heart break just a little. it would be so much easier for him to leave the apartment every night if it wasn’t for the fact that you were such a sweetheart. the fact that you always cook for him whenever you make something for yourself is something that has been slowly chipping away at his hard exterior for months now. the way that you put it in the fridge along with a cute little note whenever he isn’t there to eat with you has almost properlybroken that exterior in two.

yunho can’t deny that half of those precious little notes are stashed in the drawer of his nightstand; he rereads them whenever his emotions get the better of him. seeing the sweet messages scrawled onto the yellow post-it-notes never fails to make him smile. your pretty little words in your pretty little handwriting… he’d be insane not to keep them.

you turn around, taking your attention away from the pot for just a moment, and spot him with his jacket on and his rucksack slung lazily over one shoulder. as your face falls, he can’t help the way his heart breaks just a little more. you probably think you’ve hidden your disappointment well, and to anyone else you might have done. it’s just a shame that yunho is the way that he is, because he sees the way your shoulders deflate and the shadow of a frown disrupts your pretty face. he can practically feel the sadness radiating from you in waves, the hairs at the back of his neck standing up slightly as your not-so-obvious upset puts him on edge.

but then you seem to remember yourself, and within seconds you’ve picked yourself back up and are offering a small smile to him. he still feels that prickling at the back of his neck, though.

although it becomes apparent pretty quickly that that sensation may be caused by his own disappointment, rather than yours. as much as he’d like to pretend otherwise, he can’t deny the way that the feeling in his neck grows as he watches you pull a tupperware from the cupboard. you swap it with his dish - it was really yours, but you’d named it his because it’s red and red reminds you of him, for some reason - and he has to stifle his own frown. for some reason watching you replace the ceramic bowl with the plastic tub hits him right in the chest…

“i’ll put yours in the fridge, then,” you say as you turn back to the pasta and give it a stir, “you can grab it whenever you’re hungry; maybe when you get back tonight?”

sweetheart, his brain repeats over and over like a mantra. it rattles round his skull whilst he tries to find the words to thank you. to let you know just how much he appreciates it, even if he doesn’t always show it. and the words are right there. right on the top of his tongue…

but for some reason he can’t get them out.

“i’ll see you later,” is all he mumbles before he slips out of the doorway and dashes down the hallway to the open window that awaits him at the end.

you try not to let the way the door slams shut hurt you, but even with the strongest will in the world you wouldn’t be able to take away the ache in your chest. he’s just going through a rough patch, you try to convince yourself as you spoon his serving into the tupperware and clip the lid shut. he just needs some time alone after everything that’s happened to him, you think as you slip it into the fridge. it’ll be better soon, you pray as you pull out a pen and think about what to write on his note.

hope this pasta cheers you up, yun! if you like it, let me know and i’ll make it more often for you!!

the words make you cringe, but you slip it next to the tupperware anyway, closing the fridge with a huff. you doubt he even reads the notes anyway, so why does it matter if what you write on them is a little sickly-sweet.

with a sigh you grab your bowl and turn to the couch, ready to settle in and do nothing for the night. as usual, yunho’s portfolio stuff is everywhere, as well as the photos of that one spider-guy that he’s been collecting for his new job at the daily bugle. you hate the newspaper yourself, thinking that the conspiracy-led journalism is nothing but fear mongering nonsense, but you can’t fault yunho for working there; he’s only in it for the money, afterall. it’s just the life of a collage student to have to sell out your morals for a paycheck.

you pick it all up, organising it into somewhat-coherent piles on the coffee table before flopping down onto the ratty sofa and flicking the TV on. the volume is barely at a whisper, and you can’t help but curse yunho for having such good hearing; no doubt he feels the same when he turns the TV on to a deafening wall of sound after you’ve used it. the thought gives you a quick chuckle as you flick through the channels to find something to watch. you settle on a dumb reality show, quickly settling in for the evening so you can eat your pasta in peace.

———

hours pass before yunho returns, swinging the door open and startling you out of your TV-centred tunnel vision. you turn to him in surprise, ready to gently scold him for putting what would no doubt be another dent in the wall. that will have to come out of both of your deposits, you prepare yourself to tell him, but when you actually see him you pause.

he’s hunched up against a wall, chest rising and falling as he struggles to breathe. there’s a wheeze when he inhales, which only gets stronger when he breathes out, and the look of pain on his face that comes each and every time he respires sends you straight into panic mode. you don’t bother to turn the TV off as you stand up and rush towards him.

“fucking hell, yun,” you cry as you reach him. he winces at your shrill tone, drawing back into himself as you invade his personal space to check for injuries. the obvious one is his side, which he’s clutching in his grip like his life depends on it; you assume it’s a cracked rib, which would explain why breathing looks like it’s taking all of his effort. despite its necessity, its a notoriously painful thing to do with a broken rib.

a broken nose can make it difficult too, and as you begin to scan his face, you realise that he definitely has one of those. the way it twists to the side slightly, blood oozing from his right nostril like a faucet makes you flinch back a little, as if you’re the one that’s injured. you compose yourself quickly as you continue your search. black eye, split brow, split lip - the list goes on, but thankfully none of it seems too irreparable. with your basic knowledge of first aid, and yunho’s weirdly extensive first aid kit, you’re bound to have him fixed up in no time.

“bathroom,” you stutter out, taking a step back to give him some space. he almost misses your warmth as he watches you take a few steps towards the room that separates his bedroom from yours. he chases it, pushing himself away from the wall and stumbling after you. he doesn’t know why he wants you so close all of a sudden, but he feels like he needs it to survive. those brief few seconds he had you close somehow made him breathe a little easier. he follows you into the bathroom and shuts the door behind him.

silently, you gesture to the toilet and he takes a seat on the closed lid. his broad torso leans back against the tiles, and he relishes in the way that the cold seeps through his shirt and washes over his too-hot body. his head tips back against it too, and he watches you through hooded eyes as you scramble through the cabinet to find his first-aid kit.

sweetheart, his mind whispers again as you sit there on your knees in front of the cabinet, pushing rolls of toilet paper and bottles of cleaning product to the side. only you could be so adorably caring towards him after all these months of him actively pushing you away. only you would be so worried for him after he’d been trying his hardest to avoid you for months on end.

only you.

that feeling at the back of his neck comes back, only this time it’s stronger. every single hair on his body stands on end as he watches you pull the black bag from the back of the cabinet, whispering a cute little ‘a-ha’ to yourself. he smiles at that, not even bothering to hide it from you when you turn to him with the kit in hand. he doesn’t need to anymore; you’ve already seen everything else he used to hide.

which reminds him of his tattered spider-suit in his grasp. yunho holds out the red spandex for you to take from him, half expecting you to examine it and unveil all his secrets, but you don’t. you don’t even look at it as you toss the filthy fabric into the bathtub and turn the cold tap on. it’s the best for getting blood out, afterall. with little more thought about the piece of fabric, you turn back to yunho and unzip the black bag.

“unbutton your shirt,” you mutter as you pull out some wipes, a tube of antiseptic cream, and a large square bandage. you have no idea if his side is actually bleeding or not, but it’s best to be prepared, right? you look back at him with the materials in hand, only to see him staring back at you with an unreadable look in his eyes.

“what?” you grumble, taking notice of the fact that he hasn’t moved an inch. his hand was still clutched over his side and his shirt was still messily buttoned up. you sigh and move towards him, thinking nothing of it when you drop to your knees between his thighs and begin to unbutton the white fabric. his breath hitches as your fingers brush against his chest, but you pay him no mind, “yunho, move your arm - i need to get your shirt off.”

he doesn’t, remaining still as ever as you undo the last button that you can. you sit back on your haunches and watch him from where you sit between his spread legs.

“yun, come on,” you whine, and he closes his eyes at the sound. so beautiful; if only he wasn’t in pain so he could enjoy it more, “i need to undo the rest of your buttons and i can’t when you’re not letting me!”

you lay a hand on his wrist in a pleading gesture, asking wordlessly to let you take care of him. he listens this time and loosens his grip on his ribs. you pull his hand away, sucking in a breath as you catch sight of the red stain that his hand was previously covering. it’s not huge, but it still needs seeing to, so you go back to unbuttoning his shirt.

yunho tries not to think too hard as your hand brushes over his crotch when you undo the last two, just like when you eventually finish and push the sides of his shirt open to reveal his bare chest. it’s covered with bruises, and he bites his lip to suppress a groan as your delicate fingers dance softly across his damaged skin. he finds himself wishing the circumstances were different, and that you sitting between his legs, touching his chest could be so much more than you just worrying about him. as he watches you pick up the antiseptic wipes again, he’s reminded that that’s all it is; you being worried.

but that too confuses him. after all this time of him being a downright dick to you, you’re still so gentle with him. he’s abrupt and rude, and yet you still smile and say hello whenever you see him. he’s never around to eat with you, and yet you never fail to make him a meal every time you cook. he’s kept so much from you, and yet here you are, taking care of him like none of that ever mattered. like you can somehow see the man he is underneath all that.

he whimpers, and he’s not quite sure whether it’s because of the pain of the antiseptic wipe, or the pain he feels in his heart. either way, he needs something to take his mind off it all.

“why?” he asks as you clean his wound with a kind hand. so soft, your touch, as if you’re scared of hurting him. as if anything you could ever do would hurt him.

“why what?” you respond as you toss away the bloodied wipe and move to grab the cream. you put a dollop on your finger and begin to gently press it against the wound. he groans, and you mutter out a small apology. you mean it too; you don’t want to cause him any more pain.

“why are you doing this?” he says through gritted teeth, breathing heavy and laboured as he tried to power through the sting that he feels in his side, “why are you so nice to me when i’m - oh fuck, it hurts - when i’m anything but nice to you?”

you pause for a second, mulling over his question, repeating it in your mind until you can settle on an answer. well, an answer that’s palatable for him, anyway.

“you’re not not nice,” you say, capping the cream and putting it down on top of yunho’s thigh; you’d need it layered anyway. then you grab the bandage and rip off the adhesive cover, “and even if you were, i don’t think that wouldn’t change how i feel about you as a person.”

he watches with confusion in his eyes as you line up the bandage and smooth it over his skin. you run your fingers along the edges, pressing it down the make sure it’s secure. he’s sure that they linger on his skin for a moment longer than they have to, but he says nothing as you pull your hand back and rest it on your lap.

“how do you feel about me?” he whispers quietly into the cold air of the bathroom. it’s quite possibly the worst place he can imagine to have this conversation, and yet it seems the fit the atmosphere perfectly. somehow it feels so natural, talking about feelings whilst you patch up his injuries in the bathroom.

“i’ve fallen for you,” you bite the bullet, just coming straight out with it, “hook, line, and sinker, yun.”

it feels good to get it off your chest at long last. even if it doesn’t lead anywhere, or it makes things weird between the two of you. even if he begins to avoid you more, or just straight up moves out, it’s feels nice to have it out in the open. you’ve cast your net, it’s up to him whether or not he lets you catch him…

“oh,” is all he says at first, and you try not to think too much into that single syllable. you pick up the tube of antiseptic cream again and turn your attention to his eyebrow, “you like me?”

you nod as you put another globule on your finger and lean into him to get closer to the cut. you ignore the way he stares at you as you work, trying you hardest to avoid making eye contact. you already feel like your heart is about to beat itself free from your chest; you don’t need to worry it any more.

but then you feel a finger brush softly against your face, a scabbed up knuckle teasing your soft skin as it’s traces your cheekbone. a breath gets caught in your throat, and your finger stills against yunho’s brow bone. against your better judgement, you let yourself focus on his expression, making eye contact with the chocolate pools that never failed to draw you in. they’re beautiful, as always, but they reveal so much more than they usually do. the corners crinkle up into crows feet as his pupils twinkle with an emotion you’ve never really seen on his face before. it suits him… a lot.

“that’s a relief,” he breathes out, the semblance of a chuckle in his voice, “i’ve been calling you sweetheart in my brain since the moment we moved in together; it’ll be nice to be able to call you that to your face… sweetheart.”

[cripplecharacters]

Do you have any tips (or previous posts) about how to write a young person who’s first-time cane user? This one is for a character who escapes a lifetime of being experimented on, and learns in the aftermath of being rescued that this rather compromised her ability to walk well again. I’ve written characters with other mobility devices for getting around. But never canes. I myself am physically disabled but have never needed anything like these before. I’m always eager to learn.

Hi!

If your character is a first time cane user, here's some things that could happen:

She will need to learn how to walk with the cane first. When you're starting, it's easy to mess up (though it could be my dyspraxia speaking) and overfocus on how you should walk because you're just getting used to it. She could randomly stop and correct her gait, or look down a lot to check if she's still doing the motion (left arm and right leg forward, or the other way around).

She's probably gonna drop that thing a lot. Especially if she has a weaker grip in the cane hand - now, I don't have this problem (the opposite, rather) - but the overall thing is a really common occurrence for most of us. Walking and hit the smallest pebble imaginable? Cane on the ground, somehow. Tried putting it against the wall or table? It's on the ground. And then you need to reach for it... it's a struggle sometimes.

If she's not helped in picking the cane, she will spend some time figuring out what grip and height are comfortable for her. (Grip depends on personal preference, no one's preference has ever been the doorknob handle, height is generally to the person's wrist from the ground up.) I think that this could be an interesting opportunity to talk about disabled communities - maybe she's frustrated with the process and goes to an older (more experienced) cane user to help her?

If it's during the winter, her hand is gonna be freezing - and the opposite in the summer - and she might not be prepared for it. The handle can get HOT and it can be an issue. Depending on what her actual disability is, she might try switching which hand to hold it in. If she's able to do that, another character could warm up her cold hand :)

The first couple of times walking with a cane are an Experience. You feel way better, but also everyone is suddenly staring. Some people care about that, some don't. But it can be somewhat overwhelming either way.

Spatial awareness is gonna suck at first. She will bump into what feels like everything with the cane. Especially doorframes. It's always doorframes for some reason. Or mess up and have her cane slip down because she hasn't realized how close to the curb she was.

She will hit her shin. It will hurt.

She's probably going to be speedy with that thing! Getting a cane is like getting a speed boost. Without it, I have episodes where I'm extremely slow (my highest, extreme-pain speed would be slower than a person walking very casually) and with it, I'm faster than a lot of able-bodied people! It's fun and she would have fun with it.

She will not know what to do with the cane when she doesn't need it. For me, using backpacks always cause issues because I don't know how to hold it without dropping it, but I also need to swap hands, something gets stuck on the handle... it's a whole process that takes a comical amount of time at first. Same when going to the public bathroom, where are you putting it when you aren't using it...? It's a lot of trial and error and a lot of "eww, my cane just touched the dirtiest surface humanly imaginable".

In the real world, people are (overly) interested in young cane user's business and tend to stare a lot. Now, it doesn't have to be like this in your story, but it's often just an annoying part of life. Your character might feel awkward and feel like she needs to explain herself, but this goes away after some time. You just get desensitized after a while.

In the real world, people are sometimes interested and nice about it! For example, a lot of older people can be insecure about using a cane, exactly like younger people. I've heard stories about older people asking younger users where they got their cane from, how are they so confident with it, etc. Another opportunity for a disabled community moment!

I hope that my suggestions were helpful, it's been a while since I was a first-time cane user so I wrote down what I still remember, haha.

Mod Sasza

Hi!

I agree with Sasza on pretty much every point and wanted to add some things from my own experience.

It's really, really hard to hold both a cane and an umbrella at the same time. Sometimes I'll give up and get wet. Sometimes I'll give up and store the cane. She might do either of those, depending on what she hates more: being wet or walking without the cane. Or she could get a raincoat if that works for her.

Speaking of umbrellas, sometimes you need your umbrella and you need your cane and you also need a free hand. This Sucks. What I do for this sometimes (and maybe she or other people have better, smarter, more useful solutions than this) is shove my umbrella into my shirt or backpack strap or something, so the umbrella is Held Up by it. This is not very effective, and will not last long. But if I need to look up a map on my phone or adjust something on my clothes or get my keys, it can work. Sort of.

Just like mod Sasza said, people will take interest in your cane, younger and older alike. I've had people of all ages compliment my cane (it has flowers) as well as people of all ages tell me I'm too young to need a cane or ask what's wrong with me. An older woman once asked me where I got my cane as she had been wanting a 'pretty' one, and that was a nice moment.

She might develop a new awareness of mobility aid users. When you're new at using one and trying to figure it out, you're probably going to be frustrated, because it's a new skill like any other. But it might make her (like it made me) notice more people using canes. It's not that I never saw them before, but that they were more common than I ever thought, and I never would have noticed how common it was if I hadn't had to slow down and practice my skill.

Cane tips get dirty, and cane tips wear out. These both depend on where your character is using her cane (outdoors vs indoors, scratchy asphalt vs smooth wood) as well as how often. A cane with a worn-out rubber tip really sucks and is more unstable and if the cane is made of aluminum and the tip is worn out and you hit the cane the wrong way, you can damage the cane. Ask me how I know.

That's all I can think of right now that I had to learn to deal with when I started! As you can see I still don't have a solution to the rain thing and it's been like two and a half years...

- mod Sparrow

[genericpuff]

Lore Olympus Episode 265 Betrays the Series' Own Messages of Consent

I've been keeping it on the down low lately with new episodes of LO, both for the sake of my mental health and because LO itself has just become so... pointless and boring. There's only so much to say when nothing is happening, and in that regard, I will preface this with a "congratulations" towards Rachel, because she's finally found a way to best the "haters" - make the comic so boring that there's nothing worth talking about to begin with.

At first glance I thought this was going to be another one of those episodes. Good job, Rachel, you managed to pad out another episode with pointless fluff to get you closer to that looming end date. Just keep dragging, just keep dragging, just keep dragging-

But the longer I sat on it, and read the comments and posts about it in discussion circles, the more I've realized that this episode in particular has a load of issues that I don't feel good just sitting on and not talking about. Primarily because, over the course of about 90% of this episode's length, we see Lore Olympus - and Rachel - slyly undo everything that ever mattered in its subtext about consent, healthy relationships, and strong communication.

Granted, Lore Olympus has never exactly been the poster child for those things, but it's trying to be, so we're going to dissect it with an equal amount of scrutiny. It wants to be taken seriously, so I'm going to take it seriously and criticize it seriously.

CONTENT WARNING: EPISODE 265 SPOILERS AHEAD, AS WELL AS DISCUSSION OF SEXUAL ASSAULT, MENTAL HEALTH, GROOMING, AND SYMPTOMS OF MANIA, PROCEED WITH CAUTION

Episode 265 opens with an attempt at plot progression, returning to Morpheus who, last we checked, had been targeted by Kronos as the cliffhanger for Episode 259 before being shoved aside entirely for multiple episodes worth of Demophoon, pool-fucking, and a vision from Hera.

Honestly, I won't waste my 30 image limit on the episode's opening sequence because it accomplishes absolutely nothing. And by the time it starts to try and state what that goal is, it transitions away, because Rachel has the attention span of a squirrel on meth and having Morpheus state what her plan is would just be too much dedicated writing for her at this point, she needs another week at least to figure it out.

So instead we get exactly what was promised in the FastPass previews - the entire episode is spent, yet again, on Hades and Persephone, with the exact same topics, conclusions, and terrible sex as the pool scene.

Seriously, this might be a nitpick, but I'm so tired of Persephone not being allowed to swear. We've seen other characters swear. We've even had Kronos call her a "dumb fucking bitch". But this "girlboss" character who we're supposed to believe has "agency" can't be allowed to swear even when they're in an ACTUALLY STRESSFUL SITUATION? You know purity culture isn't exclusive to sex, right, Rachel? If you're gonna deconstruct it, maybe don't have the poster child of that deconstruction be relegated to a church girl? She's literally the Queen of the Underworld - adjacent to the ruler of Hell - let her fucking swear LMAO

Anyways, we see very quickly that Persephone is still feeling the ill effects of her anxiety that she was feeling in the last episode. Anxiety that, by the way, caused her to pass out. Please keep that in mind, don't let it escape.

And what is she stressing over? The genocide? The fact that they still don't have an actual solution to the ongoing "plague"?

Nah. The sleep dive. She's stressing over her husband doing the sleep dive again and - like last time - turning into a dad-possessed monster.

As always, the fear and anxiety is in no way linked to the actual devastation happening outside - it's just concern for the main male lead, because that's all Persephone's character and thoughts and opinions and "agency" can revolve around.

But uh. Remember that scene where Hades got possessed by Kronos and literally strangled her? Remember that scene I just asked you to keep in your brain about her panic attacks getting so bad she's been passing out?

Hello? No? Okay. Next.

I hate, I loathe, I detest this dialogue. Not because it's cliche as fuck - it is - but because the whole "I trust you, it's just xyz I don't trust" shit has been overplayed and debunked as a plausible response in relationship communication for years now.

We talked about this back during our discussion of Leuce - how it shouldn't matter if Persephone doesn't trust Leuce because ultimately Leuce can't do anything to her or Hades' relationship if it's built on as much "trust" as she claims it is, trusting Hades is all that should matter full stop - and it repeats itself here, albeit with Hades' dad instead of his canon first wife. This is a copout. Relationships actually built on trust can definitely still be worried about the issues posed by other people, but if you trust your partner, if you truly trust your partner, that's it. That's where the sentence ends. No shit you don't trust Kronos, we've been over this song and dance multiple times before and while he's definitely a bigger real threat than Leuce, your distrust for Kronos has nothing to do with how you're communicating with your partner who knows there's likely no other way and a solution has to be found. Nothing's being accomplished at this point from Persephone moping around and having sex with her husband, and he's showing 10x more initiative in actually finding a solution - even if it means putting his own safety at risk - than Persephone.

I didn't edit any of that, those are the legit real panels. Literally what the fuck is this dialogue, my tinfoil hat theory about LO being written by ChatGPT is becoming more and more plausible and I hate that, my crackpot theories shouldn't actually become reality.

Is there an owl in here?

LO is just spinning its wheels over the exact same conversation and points that have already been made. Nothing is being accomplished here, it's just more moping and going over the same problems - the centre of which being "what about H x P's relationship?? :(((("

All of that repetitive meandering and moping for "okay fine but if anything feels weird, get out" "okay". It, again, accomplishes nothing that couldn't have been accomplished during the pool scene.

And now we get this line. "I experienced greed in that way, and you do not possess it." Don't be alarmed if you were confused, I was confused too, as were many people in the discussion circles. Thanks to the ULO Discord, I realized she was talking about Apollo. She's literally comparing him to Apollo.

"After all this time, I can't comprehend you causing me harm. I've been at the receiving end of harm so I would know" is literally all she's trying to say. And even with it translated... I don't really like the implications of it at all. This has been a problem since S1, but there's always been this subtext in LO that because Hades didn't rape her, that somehow makes him less abusive or a better partner for Persephone than Apollo, that's all the SA has really been trying to achieve.

But Hades is abusive. He's intentionally pursued women who are in a crisis. He's trapped women in financial dependency. He's sabotaged women from having power and status on the same level as him.

And now, we're about to see actual abuse from Hades - the subtle kind that demands co-dependency, but is still abuse, full stop - but it's being framed as "romantic".

"Being an Originals creator was my big chance to prove myself, and I flopped"- wait sorry I misread. We're talking about Persephone failing at being Queen. Yeah, she definitely flopped. And it goes to show her true intentions in wanting to be Queen, now that she's hit rock bottom and isn't putting on a brave PR face - she wanted to become Queen not to make the Underworld a better place, not to be an example of being a better ruler among a gallery of scumbags, but to "prove" that she could belong and be one of the big guys, that she could be more than just a cereal box mascot.

Don't get me wrong, I can absolutely get wanting to rise above the odds and "prove" to everyone that you can be more than people's perceptions of you, but becoming the literal ruler of a realm that you then go on to destroy due to your own hubris, just to whine and cry about it and have your husband and your colleagues and your friends carry the burden of that destruction on your behalf... therapy would have been a better first step to overcoming those insecurities, not taking control over the lives of innocent people.

Especially when Persephone DID have status and power before becoming Queen, it just wasn't the specific kind of status and power she wanted. She was only a trust fund child with a huge net worth, a full-ride scholarship, and everything she could ever need provided to her with little struggle to get it - but she didn't have control over other people so it just wasn't good enough.

This is the perspective and attitude of a 19 year old who never matured. Who never could mature because she transitioned from her mother's control into Hades'. There were far better ways to prove herself, ways that we had seen her try to do, only to drop so she could pursue her co-dependent relationship with Hades - she gave up her schooling, gave up her apartment (which we only see her use maybe 2-3 times), gave up so many of her connections and support so she could be with Hades.

This is the result of 5 years of real-time grooming that we're seeing play out.

No, you are just saying them because she's your wife. You'd be saying it to Minthe, or Leuce, or Hera, or any other woman in Persephone's position because it's not about taking accountability, it's about keeping these women in a position of submissiveness and co-dependency, by giving them reassurance that nothing they ever do is wrong and that he's the only one that can give them that freedom from consequences.

And then we get the reinforcement.

I'm gonna spare you all the cringe of the actual sex scene (and yes, they do straight up go into having onscreen sex and it's... not hot at all), but here's some of the dialogue spoken by Hades during the entire sequence:

Again, let's remember the actual situation that led up to this and the position Persephone is currently in. For the third time Persephone has "accidentally" killed thousands of people. Over the past few episodes we've seen her try to realize how so many of these problems have been her fault and she clearly doesn't know how to make things right (and Rachel has made it obvious how much she doesn't want you to agree with this kind of self-awareness because much of it is being said through the mouthpiece of a rapist). And now we have Hades, reinforcing the thought patterns that would prevent her from growing and learning and changing. In this, a comic that's supposed to be "feminist", a comic that's trying to preach the importance of consent, a comic that's trying to make us believe this is a healthy, consenting relationship with strong communication skills.

These are literally grooming tactics. Hades is reinforcing the same thought patterns that will prevent Persephone from acknowledging her errors and mistakes. People are dying and Hades is telling her that if anyone has anything to say about it, they deserve to die anyways. The same man who literally rewarded her with sex for vandalizing a nymph's home is now telling her that she's not cruel, but kind:

Hades might not be Apollo, but he literally choked her out less than a week ago while possessed by his dad, and for the last SEVERAL episodes he's had the starry skin making him resemble who? Oh yeah, his dad.

Hades is literally holding Persephone in the same position Kronos did, while she's experiencing a literal meltdown that she's trying to stuff deep down - in fact, exhibiting a LOT of symptoms of mania - and initiating sex.

Doesn't this feel a little familiar?

Oh right, but he asks her if she's "still okay" mid sex only AFTER initiating chokehold sex with her without her consent and love-bombing her, so it's fine, clearly.

I remember being 17 years old and reading Fifty Shades of Grey for the first time, and even then understanding fully how toxic their relationship was. I can only hope the teenagers in Rachel's comment section can realize that as well, but judging by the comment section, I'm not holding out hope. This is literally "fifty shades of fucked up" material, and what's worse is that I can't tell if Rachel genuinely thinks this is healthy, or just doesn't realize how unhealthy it's coming across as. Even beyond how "cringe" this sequence is, it enters into the realm of being deeply uncomfortable and unsettling, and it needs to be talked about, Rachel can't be let off the hook for this especially when this is supposed to be, again, a comic that's intending to "deconstruct purity culture" and teach young girls about consent and boundaries.

And that's it, that's the end of the episode. It reads like the manifesto of a villain in the making at the hands of a predator, like Anakin being manipulated by Palpatine - "so long as you're with me, you'll have all the power, all the glory, and everyone else will be crushed underneath your heel."

Is that really the message we really want to come away from LO from? That it's fine for husbands to initiate sex with their wives through trauma-bonding and reinforcement of toxic thought patterns rooted in grooming because... they're married? That being a "girlboss" means sabotaging and abusing anyone who you perceive as a threat?

Is Hades really that much different from Apollo? Because so far, the line between his actions and Apollo's are seriously starting to blur. The parallels between Persephone and his past partners - Minthe and Hera - have always been clear, but they've never been quite so loud as last night's episode.

This is Hades' play, the play of a groomer and an abuser who depends on making their victims dependent on them - taking advantage of women while they're in a crisis.

For Minthe, it was financial - she had lost her job, blamed it on him, and he found a way to "solve her problem" that strategically put her into a position where she had to continue to financially depend on him for what's assumed to at least be a year or longer, through her apartment, her bills, and her job.

For Hera, it was emotional - she had chosen Zeus over him, and instead of addressing her marital concerns within the marriage, she participated in an affair with Hades in an attempt to have what she could have had if she had chosen Hades instead, a man who resembles her own abuser. Not only did this put her into a much more vulnerable position than him - if the affair was found out, Hera would have suffered the consequences far more than Hades - but it's also manifested itself into Persephone, who Hera has been using as a stand-in for herself, even going so far as to manipulate Persephone's image and how she goes about her decision-making, from intentionally pulling the strings to get Persephone a job with Hades so she could get closer to him as a "test" for Hades, to forcing Persephone to wear a wedding dress she wanted her to wear over the one Persephone had actually picked out herself.

And now there's Persephone, the newest addition to the cycle of abuse and untreated trauma, the true culmination of Hades' years trapping and manipulating women - financially dependent on him, emotionally dependent on him, and only where she is because she's made her entire identity revolve around him.

I'm not going to psychoanalyze Rachel in any way, I don't want anyone to think that this is permission to do so because Rachel's personal life is her own and I want to examine the material rather than the person. But so much of LO gives me such a gross impression that Rachel herself never matured past middle school, that she never grew beyond the mindset of being a 13 year old girl who felt like the entire world was against her and that no one could understand her, that she never gained the perspective most adults do by the time they're 25 at minimum after they've entered the "real world" and had the lived experiences that make you realize "wow, that girl I hated in high school for stealing my crush from me probably wasn't as bad as I thought she was and we were all just teenagers trying to navigate the hellscape that is adolescence."

And instead of actually analyzing those thought patterns and mindsets, Rachel is instead reinforcing it in her own audience of 13 year old girls and teenagers who will only hopefully maybe outgrow it and not just repeat the cycle themselves.

And this isn't entirely on Rachel's shoulders. It's on the shoulders of E.L. James, of Stephanie Meyer, of Colleen Hoover, of every "young adult" romance author who's peddled this strictly heteronormative "submission culture but not like the 1950's kind I swear" crap, that women should only aspire to find the richest man they can bag in their pursuit for power and after that everything in the world is owed to them and any problem they have can be solved by riding dick. Trauma? Solved. Genocide? Solved. The very real consequences of your own actions that affect others to such a degree that it will be felt for decades? Solved. Just ride that dick and get that money, girlboss.

Just like 50 Shades of Grey, if Lore Olympus was any other story, it would be a tragedy. It would be a masterclass in understanding and showcasing the signs of emotional abuse, financial abuse, grooming, trauma-bonding, love-bombing, and enforcing co-dependent habits for the sake of trapping people. It would be a precautionary tale to young girls to stay alert and be wary of older men, that men like Hades are depending on girls to fall for their tricks, their praise, their affirmations that they're so mature for their age, that they're not like other girls, that they would just be so set for life if they spent all their time and attention with them, so that they can "have it all".

I can only hope that even a third of the young girls who read LO naturally grow up, gain perspective, and learn that LO isn't the pillar of healthy relationships and consent that it tries to be. It's certainly a common thing to see these days, for people to join the UnpopularLoreOlympus / #antiloreolympus community with sentiments that they started reading it at age 14 and then (thankfully) learned that what LO was preaching wasn't healthy.

But for every other girl who doesn't realize this, it's reinforcement of the same cycles - the cycle of women being only objects for sex, pitting themselves against one another, confusing gender empowerment with abuse towards others, and making their entire identity revolve around a man and justifying it as healthy so long as it makes them rich and powerful.

Even if Rachel some day gets her own head out of her ass and realizes what damage she's causing in her audience, like Persephone committing genocide, no amount of self-awareness will undo the consequences. She'll still have the awards, the money, the accolades, everything she's gained off the backs of Greek myth, feminism, and good faith from an immature audience who doesn't know any better and isn't being given the tools to understand.

Even if she realizes that, that's something she's going to have to live with for the rest of her career.

And it's a fucking tragedy.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unexpected 51

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, pegging, Lloyd being the worst, post partum, csection, suicidial ideation, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

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

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

Trapped in another holding pattern. That's all that life seems to be. Phases. Dull and prolonged. Waiting but for what?

Your days aren't much different than before Lloyd's return. He may as well have stayed gone. For you, he's not there. He's nothing. He doesn't deserve to be anything to you.

Your routine once more stagnates; sleep and feedings and some crying. Between it all, you see Harlan or Dottie, sometimes both. Your mother-in-law has grown quiet, even evasive, since her son came back. You know why but you won't argue with her or her precious Marion.

You get your walks in, looking forward to the escape from the suffocating walls. Andy passes you often, waving or saying hi. He doesn't try to talk again, not with your father around. They barely acknowledge each other. You ignore his texts. You're still trying to figure it all out.

When you're at home, Harlan holds Luna as you catch up on your reality TV. You whisper back and forth about your most hated personalities. It can never be what it once was, or what you wished it could be, but it's manageable.

That day, Harlan and Dottie go into town to do some shopping. You haven't seen Lloyd but you don't mourn his absence. Not like before.

You have Luna downstairs in her rolling bassinet. She's fully fed and sleepy. You might do some cooking. You're finally feeling up to it.

You shiver and watch your daughter dozing peacefully. Why is it so cold in here? You hug yourself and notice the draft freezing in from the kitchen. You find one of the french doors slightly open and push it shut. You can guess who did it. You should lock him out but you'd rather not provoke a confrontation.

You go back to the front room. Something feels off. You don't know. Maybe it's just the empty house. You check the thermostat then the bassinet. Luna is tucked against the side. She must feel it too.

You make sure the wheels are locked before you flit out to grab a quilt from the nursery. You pant as you get to the top of the stairs. Whew, you still got work to do before you're anywhere close to back to normal.

You snatch the sewn pink blanket and come back down, catching your breath as you sweep through the doorway.

“Lulu,” you say quietly, “gonna swaddle you up–”

You notice the angle of the bassinet. It's not how you left it, almost parallel to the sofa instead. You rush over and nearly scream as the bottom stares back at you empty.

You drop the quilt and spin, searching for any sign of the culprit. You storm back into the foyer and stomp a foot.

“Lloyd!” You bellow, not caring if you wake the babe, “where the fuck are you? Give me my baby!”

Nothing. Just the echo of your anger. You snarl and holler again. Louder.

“LLOYD! I'M NOT FUCKING AROUND!”

You stride forward and go down the hall. Not in the kitchen. Nope, not in the dining room either. You go through the first floor, yelling, then ascend the stairs again. There's no way he could've snuck her up there.

“You motherfucker. Lloyd!” You stop at the top, “it's not fucking funny.”

“Jesus Christ!” You hear a door swing open, then another as he comes out of his bedroom, “what is it now? Wanna call me more names? Push me around?”

He has a towel clutched around his waist as his feet slap on the floor. He glistens, his hair slick and dripping the noise of the shower still buzzing. You gulp and your heart drops.

“Lloyd, give her back.”

“What?”

“Don't. Give me Luna.”

“Luna–” he grimaces, “what the fuck? You serious? You won't let me see her and now– wait, where is she?”

You stand silent in horror. He's a loar to the bone but dammit, he's convincing.

“You took her. I know… I went to get her a blanket and you…”

“I've been in the shower for twenty minutes, sweetheart,” he sneers, “I… she's… gone?”

You croak. It's all you can do. You spin and hurtle back downstairs. You near the bassinet again and squeal. Gripping the sides as panic floods your chest.

“She's gone! Lloyd! My baby! Where is she?!”

You hear him come downstairs and his footsteps rush across the floor, searching everywhere you did. He appears from the kitchen, barely hanging onto his towel. You look at him as he stares at you palely.

“The back door was unlocked.”

“I know, I thought you were out there–”

“Peaches,” he utters as his eyes dilate, “call the police.”

🍑

You're still sobbing as the red and blue flash on the other side of the window. You told the story a dozen times over. It's 2am and you haven't seen Luna in thirteen hours. You feel her absence heavy in your chest.

Your baby. You failed her. She's gone and it's all your fault.

Why didn't you just take her upstairs? Why did you want to cook? Why weren't you watching her? Why didn't you lock the goddamn door?

“Honey,” Harlan clinks down a mug and his weight dips beside you on the couch, “they'll find her. She can't have gone far.”

“No, no, no,” you bawl, head throbbing, “someone took her. Someone– it's all my fault–”

“Shhh, shhh, it's alright. It'll be alright. She got everyone lookin’, they'll find her.”

“I fucked up!” You fold over your lap, “I was selfish--c-c-carlessssss.”

He hushes you again and rubs your back. You can hear the police milling around outside, a few inside still investigating every nook and cranny.

“Ma'am,” an officer approaches, “we're doing what we can but these things can take a while. You know, we got a few volunteers from the neighborhood too and some statements–”

“I don't care! I want my daughter back,” you snap.

“Sorry, officer, she's just…scared,” Harlan slings his arm over your shoulders.

“Understood,” the officer says, “we're doing all we can.”

You sniffle and bury your face in your palms. This can't be real. It is and it's all on you. You wished so many times that Luna would just go away, you didn't want her, you remember that, and now that wish came true. You are a monster.

“Breathe,” Harlan coos as your breath turns shallow and suffocating, “honey, please, you needa–”

“Let me look!” You sit up, so dizzy you nearly keel over, “I wanna look for her.”

“Dear, you already did. You needa rest.”

“No, no!” You shove him away and stand, slippers slapping as you stomp around the couch, “she's my baby, I can find her! I know I will.”

“You won't help. Lloyd's already out there–” Harlan calls after you as he follows.

You hurry through the entryway and burst out the front door. You hear your father swearing as he scrambles for his shoes. The snow crunches under your thin soles as you jog past the cruisers and the uniformed figures.

You turn down the street without a thought. The streetlights flash over you, yellow, then darkness, yellow, dark…. You don't know where you're going. Maybe you want to disappear too.

You hear Harlan calling your name but he's getting further away, not closer. You slow down and cough, lungs burning. You lean on a fence post and bend to collect yourself.

“What are you doing out here?” A drawl brings you straight up.

You squint. You think it's Lloyd at first, you haven't seen him since the police got there. Andy steps into the soft hue of the lightpole.

“I… what are you doing?” You throw the question back at Andy.

“I'm a volunteer firefighter. Heard there was a missing baby so I've been helping. I'm sorry to hear about Luna. I don't know who would do this.”

You shake your head and snivel, “I don't know.”

“I know what it's like to lose a child but… I think… she's out there. It'll be okay. You'll see her again, I know it.”

“I hope,” your voice cracks and wipes your eyes as your grief spills anew, “I should go back.”

He says nothing. You back away and turn, dragging your feet down the pavement. You see the sirens lit up and the distant beans of flashlights. Suddenly, you're caught around the neck, a hand smothering your mouth.

“Do you wanna see her?” Andy whispers as you kick out, “Luna needs her mommy…” he wrestles you out of the cone of light and behind the fence, “so do I.”

You thrash, clawing at his sleeve. Your slippers fly off in your struggle as he squeezes tighter. No, it can't be him.

You were wrong. Again.

[copperbadge]

Hello, Mr. Badge, I seem to remember that you once posted about your processes and systems for staying organized in life with Excel spreadsheets etc. I’ve been struggling a lot with depression and executive dysfunction issues and don’t want it to impact my work.

Do you use the same processes at work? I get overwhelmed with the amount of documentation we have and the exceptions to the rules in our processes.

I'm so sorry you're struggling! It's really rough, and the more complicated the task feels, the more fraught it seems, the harder it is to even get a start. I feel that hard.

As for organizing work like my home life....well, it's sort of the same. I don't make a strong distinction between life and work simply because a lot of what needs organizing in my life IS my work, so it's tough to talk about them separately.

For example, I use Google Tasks to build a to-do list each day, but that to-do list starts with "stuff I'll do before work" then "shower" then all my work stuff, then "evening" and then all the stuff to do after work, ending with "7pm chores" (because I have a lot of stuff to do right around 7pm, which I need to post about elsewhere). Then the stuff I've pushed off to next day is below that, and that just bumps up the next morning. What's important isn't really how I keep the list, but that I keep it in a way that is constantly accessible, and I've trained myself to 1. put everything on it, even stuff like "grocery shop" and 2. check it whenever I feel lost. I don't find google calendars very helpful, however, so while work makes me use one for meetings, everything else goes on a calendar I made in Google Sheets that I'm just super used to by now.

It sounds like you're having a fairly specific issue, which may not even be related to your mental health (though assuredly the mental health issues aren't helping). If you have a lot of confusing documentation and exceptions in the stuff you do at work, that can be legit stressful even for someone who isn't dealing with other stuff, so I just want you to know that this may not only be a You Problem. My problem is usually the opposite, in that I'm often the first person doing something, or the only person who's done it in a while, so there's no documentation at all. But when I do have documentation I often will simply rewrite it.

After all, just because you have a handbook doesn't mean you have to use it. You can copy it over into another document and make yourself a step-by-step guide and/or a checklist. Like, I do our holiday cards every year, and my "HOLIDAY CARDS" document says "Here's the first thing you do, here's the second, do this before going past that, check this before asking for that". Literally at one point the document says "Stop. Before you go any further, do this step. Even if you don't understand why, do this step" because in the past I've disregarded that instruction ("Why on earth would I do it this way?") and lived to regret it.

Making the guide really, really sucks. Often it will take me four or five passes at a project before my guide is comprehensive (this is my fifth year doing the holiday card project and the document still has some steps missing at the end). But once you have it, it's invaluable, and often in the past I've found other people want my guides because they're fairly clear and precise about what needs doing when. For example, you might say, "Open the file and move column B to in front of column A. NOTE: THERE IS ONE EXCEPTION, THIS IS THE EXCEPTION." Or "Once you've saved the file, save a second copy to your backup folder so you can go back to it if you delete something you shouldn't. Stop and check: is this file from before or after October? If after, remember, you have to also rename it." If you find that there's a mistake you make frequently, figure out what would stop you from making it and add that in.

(We had a guy at work whose last name was VERY long and Italian, and so when I was working phones he got a special entry in the directory document I made -- the first line was all his directory info and the second line was just the phonetic pronunciation of his last name. He found out, which I had never intended him to do, and lost his shit laughing. "No wonder you're the only one who gets it right!")

So my recommendation to you is to create your own handbook, your own templates, and your own way of doing things and just slip that back into the system you have at work. Draw a diagram by hand if you need a flow chart. My approach to all my organizational issues has always been "What would make me do this correctly / prevent me from doing that thing wrong / remind me what to do / make it easier for me to start".

I think of this nowadays as the "Take the cupboard doors off" school of organizing, because to really make full use of my kitchen in a way that I liked, I had to take some of the cupboard doors off. It looks messier and kind of cheap, but it's actually a much more organized system now, and who's in my kitchen other than me?

[rosemaryshelluverse]

𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔬𝔭𝔬𝔭𝔥𝔞𝔤𝔦𝔱𝔢

|| synopsis : Cannibalistic prey/predator used for love and desire. ||

[ TW: Gore, Cannibalism, Toxic Alastor himself is a warning ]

|| word count: 0.9k ||

|| note: Happy Valentines Day everyone! This was the winner of the pole I posted and figured a little Alastor being,, well, himself, was the perfect Valentines day special! This might get a pt.2, but i'm not sure! If enough people want a part 2 maybe :P ||

It felt like you had been running for hours on end. When the radio demon had requested an appearance with you, of course, your darling lacked to tell you the detail that he would have you running for your life throughout the deep swamp like forest in his bedroom. Your lungs had been screaming for air, the burning in your legs turning your muscle to jelly, the only reason for your lack of collapse was the fear and adrenaline. Your heart was starting to pump all too hard and all too heavy in your chest.

All you had been able to hear was a thick static that ran the air around you cold and made every little hair on your body to stand. Despite the freezing cold in the room, you felt yourself gain a sheen of sweat, only pushing you to try and run faster, try and get away. You had made the mistake to look behind you, you didn't know which scared you more. The lack of Alastor behind you, or the large, sickly green tendrils bashing their way through trees, causing the ground to rumble and the static grow louder.

Your chest rose and fell at a rapid pace when you came to a screeching halt, looking at the high thorn bushes that loomed in front of you. Though when you hear the sound of old, static humming come from a few feet behind you, your body reacts before you could think. The feeling of hundreds of little thorns scraping against your skin, slowing you down by snagging your clothes and tugging you in different directions. Though still, you ran, trying to change your inescapable fate. Eventually, several of the little cuts from the thorns started to drip out your blood, nice and slowly. You knew better, you knew that would only make your chance of escape lower.

He, on the other hand, loved the chase. He loved watching your thought process as you tried to get away from him, seeing your body get weaker and weaker the longer he drew out this little game. The deer couldn't keep himself in check as the all too familiar stench of your blood had started to fill the air. You were a smart cookie, you knew that he was just dragging the game out for his own sick enjoyment. So the moment the air around you filled with little squares of red, green and blue and your ears began to ring from the sound of the static, you knew you had lost. And just when you had gotten to a dark, musky smelling clearing, with very little light peeking through the heavy tree line.

When your legs finally let yourself stop, your body trying its hardest not to shake in fear when all your heard was sudden silence. Your eyes glanced up, checking the area in front of you for your beloved radio demon. You couldn't help but shiver when you felt his claws rest themselves upon your shoulders.

" 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯, 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨? "

His question made a shiver roll down your spine, your throat had been so dry that you couldn't respond right away, causing him to prompt another question, " 𝘤𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘦? " A sharp cackle was followed by this as he tightened his grip on your shoulders, looking at just how torn up your clothes had gotten. " 𝘮𝘺, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦, 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘚𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦. " You could practically hear the smile on his face growing wider as he spoke, his fingers slipping into a tear on your shirt, claw tapping against your skin.

He knew the rules to this. He knew that he could easily overpower you, take exactly what he wanted from you and leave you here to find your way out and get the help you'd need afterwards. But as in your contract, he had to ask. He dammed himself for being such a gentleman in his time. So now, with his head tucked away in the crook of your neck, he let out a heavy breath. " 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦? " His voice lowered, his face pressing further into your skin, his teeth grazing against your skin so lightly. His claws dug into your skin now, almost daring to pierce your soft flesh. When you refused to answer after his first request, he knew what you were up to, you did this every time. There was no way in literal Hell that you were going to let him get off that easily.

" 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦? 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶.. " He started, his grip on your shoulders loosening so he could run his hands down your arms, bringing one of your hands up for him to place soft and compliant kisses on the palm of your hand and down your wrist. The thought to just open the bright vein that ran down your arm and get what he needed crossed his mind, but he knew he needed to wait. He's not one to break a contract after all. In the tender moment, you let out a strained sigh, before giving a slight nod of your head.

" 𝙶𝚘 𝚊𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍.. "

At your words, Alastor spun you around, that large, charming grin plastered on his face while he looked you over.

" 𝘞𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘭! 𝘓𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥. "

|| note: ​🇮​​🇫​ ​🇾​​🇴​​🇺​ ​🇱​​🇮​​🇰​​🇪​ ​🇲​​🇾​ ​🇨​​🇴​​🇳​​🇹​​🇪​​🇳​​🇹​, ​🇧​​🇪​ ​🇸​​🇺​​🇷​​🇪​ ​🇹​​🇴​ ​🇱​​🇮​​🇰​​🇪​ ​🇦​​🇳​​🇩​ ​🇷​​🇪​​🇧​​🇱​​🇴​​🇬​!! <3 ||

[ridreamir]

If you're still taking requests, could I ask for some general HCs for Kieran and maybe Drayton that take place at bb academy? If not feel free to ignore this :)

A/N: Hey! Yeah of course! I'm struggling to write the Kieran fic because I think I'm way in over my head (I'm freezin' up lol the pressure to figure it out is getting to me) so I guess I can take a break and write some headcanons instead!

I'll write for 'em both, but it's post-DLC, I hope you don't mind! Potential spoilers ahead!

These ones are a little silly in retrospect! I did em fast too, so I hope they're not too bad :p

Kieran's secretly your top fan. Not that you notice because there's no way he'd let you catch him, but he's literally dropped what he was doing to run to the entrance of the academy because your name was announced over the intercom. If you're having a match he'll actually full speed sprint to through the school just to be there, but any time you look over he instinctively hides, flush with embarrassment. You don't come and visit him in his dorm room often since you're on such different schedules, but he's had to flip over his pinboard and hide his piles of notes because they're all about you and trying to understand your strategies and, well, other things... His sister won't stop bugging him about it 'bein' weird', but she knows he's flat obsessed with trying to figure you out! The league club has a social media that posts all of your recent matches, and he's had to beg Carmine to show him how to use the phone app because he's new to having a smart phone and Arceus does he have to watch every single one. He didn't even want a phone until now, but he can't believe he's been missing out all this time. No wonder everyone has one of these things! She was reluctant, but it's Kiki after all... It should be fine, right? Well... that was before all the pinboards and sticky note nonsense that looks straight out of a detective movie or something. He's the type to not like posts because he's scared of what you might think, but accidentally hit the heart button on a match from like a month ago. He definitely drops his phone on his face and panics, trying to undo it as fast as he can. Little does he realize that it's actually Lacey who's in charge of the social media account and not you, and also that she can see who's the most active on the page.

She thinks it's cute, and since she loves cute things, she's letting it be for now. She's always giggling and hiding her smile when he pops into the clubroom to check and see if you're there. Most of the time though he ends up running off before he can say hi because he doesn't want to talk to Drayton.

Since he's gotten the phone he hasn't stopped checking it and he smiles like an idiot any time he thinks he's alone. (News flash, he's really bad at hiding what he's doing. Like he could be in the middle of the cafeteria where everyone sees him watching your battles back to back like they're a tv series.) The only reason nobody really thinks much of it is because you're practically a celebrity and not even just in the Academy but, like, big time. And Kieran is probably one of the only people to not know because he's been so chronically offline. You act so low-key, talking to someone like him like he's just, just another person that it's shocking news to find out that the whole world has probably heard your name by now! As in, his (best?) friend!! (Friend??) It gets kind of annoying now how people follow you around asking to take photos with you like you're some kind of, of tourist attraction and not a person! But there's only one thing that's worse, and it's-

"Hey bud, ready to battle?" Drayton! Kieran's... Kieran's... worst nightmare!! Drayton's gotten really buddy-buddy with you over the time that Kieran and Carmine were on break, and he's not happy about it. Unfortunately for him, Drayton's all too aware of Kieran's contempt and loves to push his buttons. As if calling him "Ex-Champ" all the time wasn't enough, you've been helping him with his homework and sparring together every day! What he wouldn't do for you to spend that much time with him...

And it grinds his gears how often Drayton nudges you or ruffles your hair like you're some sort of pet, though you never see the way their pupils shrink at the sight of each other. Kieran here, hiding behind whatever he can to stay out of sight and Drayton who knows that he's there and makes direct eye contact with him. It's infuriating the way his smile quirks just a little when he catches Kieran spying.

As if he's saying look all you want, look at what you can't have.

And Kieran takes that as a challenge.

[wolfjackle-creates]

Ghost!Robin Arc 2 Part 1

Happy WIP Wednesday! Ghost!Robin was the clear winner of last week's poll. Check out this week's poll if you want a say in what gets posted next. For any newer followers who aren't aware, the entire dinner scene has been written. I'm still working on getting it cross posted to AO3, though. That's going to be my next focus (once I finish editing the last chapter of The Two Ghost Motel, my EctoImplosion fic).

Story Summary: Jazz and Jason have been dating for a while. Long enough that it's time to meet the families. So a dinner at Wayne Manor is set up. Danny took great pains to manage all his Ghost King responsibilities so nothing ghostly would interrupt the meal.

But he wasn't expecting to see the ghost of the dead Robin hanging off Jason's shoulders.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1.4k

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Jason stared at the ceiling and counted his breaths. Next to him, Jazz’s breathing evened out as she slipped into sleep. Every time he let his mind wander, he saw the ghost grinning back at him. Signing with Bruce and Dick. Hugging Alfred.

Trying to take back his place in the family.

And of course everyone responded well to him! Bruce always hated the ways he’d changed since his death. And the ghost looked to be everything Jason had once been. Green shaded his vision and he grit his teeth.

A glance at Jazz, her face soft in sleep, made him let out a quiet breath and ease his way out of bed. A light in the living room proved he wasn’t the only one awake and, for a moment, rage burned hot in his chest. Why did Jazz’s brother have to come to Gotham and fuck everything up?

But he pushed that thought away. Danny hadn’t broken anything. Just revealed that Jason was even more broken than they had thought.

He stepped into the light and froze again when he saw the ghost sitting in front of Danny. The two looked over at him, silent.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he grunted.

Danny huffed a laugh. “It’s a lot. Especially if you haven’t grown up around this stuff.”

Jason glanced back at the ghost and felt the pits rumble under his skin once more. They hadn’t been this active in years. Not since well before he’d met Jazz.

But there was a ghost who looked like him, was him if Danny was to believed, and he was trying to take over Jason’s spot in the family.

He let out an angry huff of air.

Only for the ghost to roll his eyes and sign for him to get over himself.

Jason was throwing a punch before he was even aware, only to almost fall on his face when his hand passed right through the figure. Who decided to point and laugh at him.

Jason scowled and made his way to the window. “I’m going out. I’ll be back eventually.”

“That… might not be a good idea.”

He paused, one foot on the window frame, and asked, “Why the fuck not?”

“It’s just… Robin’s tied to you. He can’t be too far from you and with the power I gave him, I don’t think he can turn invisible again yet.”

Jason growled and pulled himself back from the window and slammed it shut. He glared at the ghost. “Why the fuck do you have to come in and ruin my life now, just when things are starting to work out?”

The ghost, of course, glared back and signed that Jason had ruined his existence first by pushing their family away. All the while, he was making angry-sounding chirps and trills that had Jason bristling even more.

Then Danny was between them, holding out his arms. It felt like something was pushing down on his anger, trying to ease the pits away. He tensed, not trusting the feeling even as he couldn’t help but give in.

“Okay,” said Danny. “Clearly there’s more strong feelings going on here than I first expected. So, um, should I start explaining what I suspect now or should we wait for Jazz to wake up?”

Jason sat on the edge of an armchair, still tense, and waved him on. “I want to know what’s going on.”

Danny nodded. “So I’m no doctor. We’ll have to go to the yetis for real answers, but I can start with the basics.”

“Yetis?” Jason couldn’t help but ask.

Danny blushed. It tinted his skin green. He’d blushed red earlier, what did the change mean? “The yetis of the Far Frozen,” said Danny. “They’re the doctors I mentioned earlier. Their leader is named Frostbite and he’s been helping me out since, like, six months or something after I died. They’re the experts in part-dead, part-living biology simply by taking care of me. I don’t even think the fruitloop knows as much as them, no matter how much he likes to pretend.”

Jason closed his eyes and took a breath. Sometimes talking to people not trained in giving reports by Batman was a test of patience. He decided to let the fruitloop comment go. It didn’t sound like it’d be relevant to what he wanted to know—at least not yet. Maybe he could find out more and get a second opinion after meeting these Yetis. “So not only will you be taking me to another dimension, you’ll be taking me to a place called the Far Frozen where I’ll be looked at by yetis.”

Danny shrugged. “Yeah, basically. Jazz mentioned you liked to read. If you like, I could take you to the Ghost Writer’s lair after. He’s got a library that contains every book ever written and many that never got published. I’m not allowed in it after an incident the year I died, but he likes Jazz so I’m sure he’d let you in if you promised not to damage any of his books.”

Now Jason was staring for an entirely different reason. There was a place like that? That he could just go to?

A questioning trill made his attention snap back to the ghost and he tensed again.

“Yeah, Robin,” said Danny. “You, too, of course. Can’t bring Jason somewhere and not you, after all! Especially since you’ll both have to be present for the medical examination.”

Jason grit his teeth and forced himself to not flinch at Danny’s use of the name “Robin.” He refused to take his gaze away from Jazz’s brother and ignored the sounds the ghost was making. “When will we go?” asked Jason.

“Soon as Jazz wakes up, if you want. No reason not to. And there’s a few things I’ll have to do in the Realms anyway. I was expecting to be away a single night, not however long this”—he gestured between Jason and the ghost—“will take.”

“But they can fix me, right?” asked Jason. He needed the answer to be yes. That ghost couldn’t be allowed to ruin the fragile peace he’d established with his family or the life he wanted to start with Jazz.

To his frustration, Danny just shrugged. “I’m not a doctor, Jason. I don’t know what they’ll find when they examine you. But they’ll know more than anyone else in either this dimension or the Realms.”

“But you have suspicions.”

“I do.” Danny took a breath. “Remember the sensor? Actually, let me just pull it up now.” He rummaged through his bag and pulled it out.

Jason made an annoyed grunt at the delay, but didn’t say anything as the seconds dragged on while Danny turned it on.

After what felt like ages but was really less than a minute, Danny moved closer so Jason could see the screen.

“See, here’s me.” Danny pointed to a bright orange blob on the screen. “And that’s you, he pointed to a mostly purple blob, half as bright as Danny. But mixed through the purple were shoots of orange and blue. The three shades turned mostly orange as they extended from his body to a mostly blue shape. But orange and purple twined as inextricably through the ghost as it did through Jason. Danny pointed to the blue. “And that’s Robin. You’re mostly purple which means you’re liminal. And a brighter purple than I’ve ever seen outside of Jazz and my closest friends. Robin is mostly blue which marks him as an unknown ghost. I’ll be updating the system soon so he shows up as a friendly, known ghost. But what’s interesting is this part between you. You’re connected by ectoplasm that most closely mimics halfa ecto. And there’s currently only three known halfas in existence.”

“You think we’re a halfa, like you.”

“Either that or you have the potential to be a halfa. But, really, we’ll need to go to Frostbite to know for sure.”

“I just want him gone.” Jay would argue to a second grave that it wasn’t a whine, but he was glad none of his siblings were here. Or Jazz.

The ghost let out a series of angry trills and signed at him. Which Jason easily ignored by simply closing his eyes and cradling his face in his hands as he worked on forcing back the pits.

“I don’t think it’s going to work that way, I’m afraid,” said Danny, echoing Jason’s worst fears.

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Next

Jason is having A Time™️. Will it get better?

I've finally gotten around to making a Subscription Post for this fic, so this will be the last update I do the tag list for. Especially since it's been so long since I've updated, I feel kinda bad tagging all of you! But if you still want update notifications, please check out the subscription post.

Tag List Part 1:

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