#♡ (⇀ 3 ↼)

[wolvimiau]

old man logan drives me insane

[madsfrank]

Imagine Simon beating himself up over you…

It’s late at night in the barracks, the task force had almost lost you to a bullet wound embedded in your side, another hour without treatment and you would have been lost for good. You lie in your quarters, having been treated and given fluids that you needed to live, when suddenly you hear a heavy knocking at the metal door.

It’s Simon, his knuckles are bloody from hours using a punching bag without thinking, his mask halfway on his face to reveal him as a panting mess still sweaty with effort. With your permission, he cracks open the door halfway, just to stare out at you in the faint glow of the room.

“You can come in Si, I can’t see you like that.”

He shuts the door softly. Afraid to rouse you anymore from needed sleep. Once enveloped in the darkness you were using to rest, he is dragging himself over to you and leaning over your frame in a manner far too intense for you in such a state.

“Si? What’s wrong?”

As you reach your hand up to his masked jaw, he suddenly takes your wrist in a heavy grip and forces your hand on his cheek.

He says nothing yet, closing his eyes to the touch and letting his breathing slow as he reminds himself you are alive….he had lost himself in hours of training and needed to remind himself that the mission was not a total failure, you were alive.

He would prefer it if you punched him, let him know how foolish it was to let you slip away from him, let him know it was all his fault and���

Instead he settles for breathing you in, muttering that he’s glad you didn’t leave, but the muttering becomes more of a groan as you try to pull him to bed with you, mewling at your gentle touch.

He’d prefer not to be seen like this, but then why would he have come to your room, other than to fall into your embrace and remind himself he’s grounded.

As he lies with you, he tells himself that someday soon he’ll take the mask off, only for you. You’re the only one that can see him like this.

With that thought, he lets himself drift off with you.

౨ৎ-Masterlist

[dollsei]

pairings: nagi seishiro x f! reader

cw: oral + exhibitionism + mention of rin and isagi

💌: nagi hearts gaming and head!!!! u heard it here first

thinking about being nagi’s desk pet; getting yourself situated between his legs while he’s gaming, palming his cock through his sweats and squeezing his bulge every now and then just to hear him grunt, smiling to yourself when he speaks into the headset n telling his friends that he’s fine, just got a little … distracted

when you finally take his length in your mouth, nagi’s gripping his remote so hard he’s afraid he’ll break it, his K/D ratio is abysmal, his character dying almost as soon as he respawns because the way you swirl your tongue on his tip n swipe your thumb over his slit is fucking heavenly.

his face is flushed, brows furrowed as he tries to compose himself, not wanting to moan into his mic while in the middle of a game, but he’s sure the way you gargle n choke on his cock has been caught, isagi and rin on the receiving end of your obscene sounds.

bracing your hands on his thighs, you swallow the entirety of his length, gagging as the tip hits the back of your throat, the sensation causing nagi to groan deeply, his thick load flooding your mouth n you swallow every last drop, humming around him in delight.

the boys are oddly quiet, both of their characters standing idly before isagi breaks the silence; “so nagi.. any chance you’re willing to share?”

“bet she’d feel good,” drawls rin.

[dollyfetti]

a little nerd!bakugou x bimbo!reader drabble bc i love nerds!! :3

"mmh, i dunno, you're just so pretty, baby." you exhale shakily, batting your lashes seductively at the flustered boy sitting inches away from you with textbooks surrounding him on your bed. you were supposed to have a study night with your boyfriend, but it's hard when he looks like that! his cute reading glasses falling down his nose, a simple black tank, and messy blonde hair after a long day. katsuki's nose twitches as he readjusts his position. your hand falls to his knee, your thumb rubbing in small circles while waiting for him to make eye contact with you. he shyly drops the pen in his hand, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a nervous sigh. "we haveta study babe. ya promised, r'member?" he huffs, grabbing ahold of your hand while you slightly pout your glossy lip. you whine, scooting closer to him so you can feel his hot breath fanning against your face. "but honey..." you whine in a sugary-sweet tone. "i need you.." you whisper, pawing at the collar of his shirt. "fuck this." katsuki spits, throwing the textbook of his lap and pulling your neck towards him into a heated kiss.

[dahlibae]

FEEL MY LOVE.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

(wanda maximoff x fem!reader)

summary — Your Wanda’s first relationship since her divorce.

warning(s) — oneshot: age gap, fluff, friends to lovers, kisses, smut, they’re so soft, finger sucking, cunnilingus, love confession! (18+)

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Wanda had never expected to find love again, much less with a woman. After the emotional turmoil of her divorce, she’d resigned herself to the idea that her days of romance were behind her. But then there was you—bright, kind, and effortlessly charming. You came into her life like a warm breeze, reminding her of what it felt like to laugh, to cry, to love.

At first, she was hesitant. Her feelings confused her, having never felt this way for another woman before. She wasn’t sure if it was simply the thrill of something new or something deeper. After all, you had started off as friends. Good friends. You had moved to Westview after a job relocation and your daughter had been enrolled at the same school as Wanda’s boys. They all took to each other immediately, and your daughter rushed home after school to tell you about her new friends who had invited her over to play.

But when Wanda caught herself staring at you during your shared morning coffee runs, your early morning drop offs, your shared grocery runs, smiling at the way you crinkled your nose when you laughed, she knew it was real.

She had fallen in love.

Your first kiss was in her kitchen. She’d invited you over for dinner—a recipe she nervously perfected the entire week—and as you helped her clean up, your hands brushed hers while drying a plate. The moment lingered, and before either of you knew it, you both leaned in. Her lips, soft as ever, and her breath warm against yours.

She pulled back first, her cheeks flushed.

"Too soon?" She questioned shyly, her hands trembling slightly.

“Not soon enough.” You replied, soothing the older woman’s nerve by leaning in for another kiss, dishes left in the sink as you wrapped your arms around her waist.

From that moment, the two of you were inseparable—like lovesick teenagers discovering the thrill of romance. Wanda would eagerly invite you and your daughter over for cozy family movie nights. The evenings would start with the kids taking charge of the remote, their excited voices filling the room as they insisted on watching their favourite shows. Eventually, their energy would fade, and they’d fall asleep in a blanket fortress they’d built in the living room.

With the children settled, you and Wanda would quietly retreat upstairs to enjoy movies of your own. You quickly learned that she had an undeniable love for old sitcoms, far more than their modern counterparts. She’d sit close to you on the bed, the flickering screen casting a warm glow over the room. Inevitably, her head would find its place on your shoulder, and you’d tease her about knowing every line by heart.

She’d respond with a playful elbow to your side, her laughter soft and contagious.

“You’re just mad I’m not giving you attention.” She’d tease, her voice low and affectionate as she leaned closer. Her face would hover near yours, her lips curving into a smile before she pressed a series of gentle, lingering kisses to your lips.

“You’re so beautiful.” You’d admit. Her long brunette curls falling around you as she beamed down at you. Her mouth pressed kisses all over your face, but you sought out her lips, craving the taste of her, immediately opening your mouth for the brush of her tongue. You were warm, heavy and satisfied, but as your hands roamed her body, taking in every inch of cream skin and smooth curves through her pyjamas, that warmth began burned deep within. Taking her hands in yours, you kissed across her veins; lips weaving a delicate pattern over smooth skin from wrist to the tips of fingers. Once there, you allowed your tongue to push past your lips and take her soaked digits into your mouth.

A small gasp fell from her mouth as you released her to pull her lips back on yours, “Please, Wanda.”

And with that, she fell sideways, pulling you to drape over her lean frame. The most beautiful thing in the world. Her hands—large, but steady—pressed gently against your back, anchoring you against her. The scent of her shampoo, something faintly citrus yet floral, drifted up to you, grounding you in the here and now.

Her fingers rose to brush lightly against your jawline, “What is it, baby?”

You pressed closer to her, unable to answer, as your lips fell upon hers, hands reaching for the fabric between you. She immediately understood, nodding her head quickly before unlatching her arms from around you to pull her pyjamas off. She was left clad in her panties as she helped take yours off too, desperate to pull you back over her. Her leg slipped between yours, and the friction sent sparks through you, a gasp tumbling from your lips.

She smiled against your mouth, her dark eyes glowing with something raw, unspoken, and utterly consuming.

“I’ve always wanted you like this.” She murmured, her voice barely audible.

You pulled back just enough to look at her, the light catching on the subtle curves of her face, her flushed cheeks, her slightly swollen lips. You ran your fingers through her curls, letting them tumble through your hands like silk, and whispered back, “You don’t know how long I’ve needed you.”

Her hands cradled your face now, thumbs brushing the corners of your mouth, her touch both grounding and electric.

“You have me.” She whispered, her tone leaving no room for doubt, her gaze locked on yours like an unbreakable tether.

You kissed your way down her body, her thighs spread wide, her sex swollen, wet, and glistening with desire through her damp panties. You discarded the offending fabric before slowly parting her lips, watching as she pulsed under your touch, every movement of your fingers drawing soft whimpers from her. Her moans deepened as your tongue traced a path from her entrance to the sensitive bundle of nerves at her core. You paused just long enough to let the anticipation build before settling on the side of her clit, your tongue lapping in slow, deliberate strokes. Your hands slid beneath her thighs, anchoring her as her fingers tangled in your curls, gripping tighter with every wave of pleasure that coursed through her. Her breath hitched, her body arching toward your mouth as you devoured her with unrelenting focus.

“Fuck.” You heard her gasp, unable to catch her breath, as her hips began to rock into you, close to falling over the edge. Her whines became moans, and teeth clamped down on her swollen lips, trying to keep quiet. One last flick of your tongue, and she fell over the edge, walls contracting as she rocked into your face, riding out the rest of her orgasm as you held your tongue still against her.

“Baby.” She called for you, fingers brushing yours as she led you back up her body and to her swollen lips, sharing her sweet taste. “My baby.” She whispered, eyes fluttering open, half-lidded and glazed.

You giggled at the sight of the usually reserved woman, to which she replied with a head tilt, “What?”

“Nothing,” you replied, “I just…love you.” The words left you before you could second-guess them, before you could talk yourself out of it.

Her fingers stroked against your cheek, guiding you back down to place a soft kiss to your lips, before detouring as she loudly kissed against your entire face.

You squealed rather childishly, not bothering to fight her attack, knowing you couldn’t stop her even if you tried. But for a moment, she just looked at you, her eyes searching yours, and you wondered what she saw there—if she saw the way your heart was practically beating out of your chest, the way your entire body felt like it's caught in a storm. Then, without warning, she leaned in, pressing her lips to yours in another kiss so fierce, so consuming, it left you breathless.

“I love you too.” She said, and there was no hesitation, no doubt.

Just the truth, as raw and beautiful as she was.

[7izncx]

edited 2023 September doodle

[pudgybun]

Big boy 😚

[thebrainrotsreal]

Drew this real quick because I fucking love these two so much ???? Especially Bee. I wish they interacted more so badly. PLEASE.

Also learning how to draw these guys.. slowly.

[saintlike05]

Anytime, anywhere

[orimuraa]

୭ ˚. I see it, I like it, I want it, I got it - OT7

(synopsis) ✩🎧⊹ stealing enhypen’s clothes ೀ

ot7!enhypen x fem!reader ✩🎧⊹ fluff, crack ✩🎧⊹ petnames, smooches ✩🎧⊹ wc 674

𝑳𝒆𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈 - 이희승

"baby have you seen my grey sweatshirt? i can't find...it-" heeseung stood there, staring at you with a blank look on his face. there you were, snuggled into the grey sweatshirt he was looking for. "alright you little thief! since you look so cute in it, i guess you can have it," heeseung playfully sighed, scooping you into his arms. "yay!" you cheered, hugging heeseung's neck and planting a chaste kiss to his lips. "you're lucky you're so darn cute."

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 - 박종성

since your boyfriend had stepped out of the room for a couple minutes, you decided to make haste and steal a warm sweater from jay's closet. when he came back, he immediately noticed the new sweater--that was 2x too big for you--you were wearing. "nice sweater," he smirked, sitting down on the edge of his bed. "thanks! i got it from my boyfriend," you winked, plopping down next to him. "finee, you can have it...but i expect it back by the end of the month!"

𝑺𝒊𝒎 𝑱𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒖𝒏 - 심재윤

"hey princess have you seen my- jacket...OH MY GOODNESS YOU LOOK SO ADORABLE!!" you were fully expecting to be scolded by jake for stealing his stuff but you also expected this exact reaction. jake's cuteness aggression. "you're not upset i stole it?" you questioned, smiling at jake's excitement. "nope! i would let you have my whole wardrobe knowing how cute you are in my clothes!!" "thanks jakey," you laughed. maybe you would take up his offer.

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒏 - 박성훈

"hey doll? i've been looking for my black shirt, have you seen it?" sunghoon walked in to find you standing in the kitchen, wearing his "missing" shirt, and eating a piece of bread. "oh-" was all he said before whipping out his phone and snapping a quick picture of you. you were just too cute. "it suits me doesn't it?" you asked, your cheeks full of bread. "very much so doll. my clothes suit you very well," sunghoon chuckled. he then walked up to you, wrapping his arms around your shorter frame and placed a kiss to your neck. "so precious," he whispered.

𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒐𝒐 - 김선우

sunoo had went to go pick up some food, giving you a good amount of time to commit some robbery. you quickly carried yourself over to sunoo's closet, picking out a few sweatshirts and shirts to bring back to your room. however, you clearly underestimated how much time there was because as you were scurrying back to your room, you were caught. "sweets? why do you have 6 sweatshirts and 4 shirts in your arms? where are you going with those?" sunoo was catching on quick. "uhhh- laundry! yeah! i was uhh folding laundry!" you mentally applauded your swift excuse but clearly he wasn't fooled. "and that’s why you're wearing one too sweets?" he smirked. mission failure. (jk he let you have them all)

𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒘𝒐𝒏 - 양정원

"jagi? i think i lost my hoodie but i wanted to ask if you've-" jungwon stopped in his tracks and slowly looked at you. you may or may not have stolen his hoodie and were wearing it right this minute..."ah, there it is..y'know what though? just keep it. you look adorable with it on," he smiled, his eyes practically turning into hearts just by the sight of you in his clothes. god he treasured you so much.

𝑵𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒂 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒊 - 西村 力

"angel? i've lost my black hoodie and i was wondering if you've seen it?" ni-ki ran a hand through his hair while tapping his foot, trying to remember where he put it. "oh! this one?" you asked, tugging the material that you were wearing. you had barged into ni-ki's room and just grabbed the first item of clothing you saw, and then walked out with it on. "yeah...that one.." he mumbled, his cheeks turning slightly pink at how adorable you looked. "sorry, do you want it back?" you asked, already tugging it off. "no no no! wait! no! it's fine! i have tons of other ones! just keep it..it suits you..." he said, mumbling the last bit. only you knew that he actually only owned one black hoodie.

ughhhh this was so cute >.< i always love the prompt of stealing clothes from the s/o 🤭 hope you guys enjoyed! likes, reblogs, and feedback is always appreciated! <3

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries

⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory, @yuvany

[kortac-sweetheart]

thinkin abt: classic “traitor” sergeant you and tf 141, except you have a different trauma response

cw: angst no comfort (yet), mentions of torture and physical harm, derealization, reader believes they deserve their torture (honestly selfship coded sorry) shout out to hedgehog’s dilemma one of my favorite dilemmas, very VERY canon divergent, no use of (y/n)

pt 2 with kortac maybe? as they slowly rehabilitate you and you learn to open up again

for as long as you can remember you’ve been an outsider. never quite fitting in with your classmates or even your “friends”. your two acquaintances (more like) in elementary school would drag you along, like a glorified pet, wherever they went. only to turn around and ignore you, chatting happily with each other as if you weren’t there.

and when you were older, you didn’t have any friends in class. always electing to sit by yourself and disturbing nothing and no one. fading into the background, like a shadow.

eventually you wind up joining the military, efficiently climbing the ranks until you land sergeant in task force 141. for the first few years of you joining, it’s much the same. that feeling of being other always lingering in the back of your mind, only amplified when observing the others in the team.

how soap easily makes gaz and price laugh, and even coaxing a chuckle out of ghost. how effortlessly they talk to each other, to the way tackling one another in a bear hug in the base halls was no big deal. almost envious at how openly they interacted with each other.

witnessing it makes you feel like you’re in school again. forcibly reverts you to the younger you that endured your so-called friends ignoring you.

but you don’t bring it up. ever. being here and fighting alongside them is already treading thin ice in your mind. already impeding upon their well established relationships. an intruder. an outsider. a stranger. a nuisance.

you linger behind them in hallways, erring from their side and sight around base. sitting far from the others during briefings, eating alone during mealtime. absent from post mission celebrations.

you keep them at arms length despite them being your teammates. it’s not their fault, it’s yours.

if i let them in, it’ll only hurt again.

but they break down your walls slowly, oh so painfully slowly. johnny now jokes besides you in the break room and during meal times, conversation is always pleasant with kyle, whilst simon looks out for you, very, very quietly. and john isn’t afraid to tell you of the good work you do on field, ruffling your hair like a proud dad.

things seem to be looking bright for you.

until they aren’t.

you fall asleep peacefully in your bed only to wake up strapped to an uncomfortable metal chair in the base’s interrogation room. a mole, unbeknownst to the rest of the team had planted evidence framing you and accusing you of betraying them. taking advantage of the thin fault line in your relationships, vulnerable and unsteady, compared to the stalwart trust they already had in each other. then, subsequently tearing that fault wide open, in order to break the team from the inside out.

your tenuous and fragile relationships finally blooming, only to be crushed under heel in a single night.

the light strains your eyes and the tight ropes dig painfully into your flesh, back aching and head throbbing as you await your fate.

three sets of eyes that only started to gaze warmly at you are now long gone. replaced with a plethora of emotions, betrayal, ire, resentment, bitterness, distrust.

you try to plead your case, that you have no idea what’s going on or what they’re talking about. you’ve never heard of any of these people in your life, nor have you ever heard of that operation at all.

but all of it is futile. you can see it clear as day in their eyes. they glare at you with such distain, it’s akin to what they gave their enemies on the field; except much much worse. this time it’s personal, someone they thought they knew.

they don’t believe you.

you realize that quickly. and after that you become borderline unresponsive. shutting down, physically, mentally, retreating into your mind, a desperate attempt to keep yourself safe from your allies-turned-tormentors.

you no longer scream your protests, all cries of agony quieted down until there wasn’t a single peep from you. although your tears never cease.

it angers them. they yell in your face, demanding answers to questions you haven’t the ability to answer. why were you being so difficult? if you’d just answer it’d be easier on you and them.

they subject you to a whole torrent of horrors. the restraints tightening and digging into your flesh, blood seeping into the rope. ghost slashes a knife up the side of your face, from your jaw to above your eyebrow bone. your eye just barely making it out unscathed because you shut it in time. then they start to rip your nails out, painfully, one by one. each time you don’t answer them, another one is torn out.

(they remember what you said offhandedly. that you didn’t like others being pushy, that you valued your autonomy highly. and what better way to break you than to rid you of it? stripping you of your nails, slashing at your muscles, tightening the ropes until you bled. anything, everything to ruin what little sovereignty you had left.)

despite being swathed deep in the recesses of your mind, you can still hear them. their voices muddied and muffled, as if underwater and you’re left unable to discern who’s words are who’s. not that it mattered anyway. the venom in their tone remained the same no matter who spoke.

“disgusting fucking traitor.”

“you’re such a pathetic piece of shit.”

“aww, cry some more.”

“should’ve never trusted you.”

“what an utterly worthless burden. only served to drag down the team.”

their words seep into your mind like poison through blood. it leaves you doubting, frantically questioning all moments you’ve shared with them. leaves you spiraling deeper and deeper into the dark abyss of your mind. your safe haven, and your cold prison.

did they always think this?

did they always hate me?

what did i do wrong?

i must’ve done something wrong to deserve this.

i deserve this.

i’m sorry.

i’m sorry.

i’m sorry.

i’m sorry.

i’m sorry.

i’m sorry.

i’m sorry.

i’m sorry.

i’m sorry.

i’m sorry.

you still remain motionless, and they scoff, looking down at you as they ash their cigarettes on your bruised skin. you don’t react. soap, frenzied, aggravated and wound up, lands a hard punch straight in your jaw. your head flying back with a sickening crunch before hanging low over your lap, face obscured.

gaz violently yanks your hair back, revealing your battered face. the lighting of the room casting long, tired shadows across it as he forces you to look at them. and you do, but not quite at them.

you don’t stare at them. you stare through them. like they aren’t there, like YOU aren’t there. they see nothing behind your eyes. it was like you were already dead. and maybe, at this point, it would’ve been better if you were.

hours blend into days and days possibly into weeks. your life has been nothing but torment and agony for who knows how long. never allowed a moment of rest or respite, being violently slapped awake if you’ve ever got lucky enough to grasp at increasingly ephemeral shut eye. time slips away into nothingness when your whole life has turned to pain.

they’re starting to grow more desperate for answers; despite everything they’ve thrown at you, you still haven’t “cracked”. and so they turn to more.. permanent methods of harm.

by the time price barges through the door, alarming everyone that you were innocent and you were falsely framed by a mole, your pinky is already severed and falling to the floor.

as if it were only a cruel nightmare, everything ceases immediately. and you pass out as you’re rushed to the base medics.

you’re awake once again, but you’re not quite all there. still safely tucked away in the depths of your mind. everyday is still a blur as your battered and beaten body tries to heal, ignoring the pity in passersby eyes’ and forced to rely on the kindness of base medics for hygiene. as if it wasn’t humiliating enough to end up in such a state.

even in your semi lucid state you still recognize them, the weight of their gait and their footfalls against the floor. always bracing for further injury whenever they draw nearer, clenched eyes, hunched posture, and a deep grimace. turned away out of fear for an impact you can’t ever guarantee is truly gone.

you silently reject their help, withdraw in on yourself to a state they’ve never seen before. you stop talking to them entirely, stop talking to everyone for that matter. whenever they try to sit next to you, you always flinch before scooting away from them, or most times you hobble away from them entirely. they never stop you. and you never look back.

(they wish you would yell at them. slap them, lash out at them, anything would be better than your numb indifference towards them now. with your anger they know for sure that you’re still in there, but, now. now it’s like a wraith is haunting the halls, more of a ghost than the man fool himself could ever hope to be.)

you return to the field as soon as you can. and everyone is surprised that your performance hasn’t suffered as much as they thought it would, considering… everything.

you’re already burdening everyone enough. if your performance were to decline then they would surely toss you aside, and everything would be for naught.

but the higher ups can see the mental toll it takes on you. to be besides them, as if this never happened. everyone can see the way they inadvertently hurt you more, can see the writing on the wall if you continue to work with them.

and so, they set up a transfer. to kortac.

you certainly have no complaints, but your ex-tormentors undoubtedly do. up in arms about the whole thing until they’re told to stand down. to follow orders.

just like they did before.

things were the same in the days leading up to the transfer. you avoid them, taking different hallways around base. never interacting more than the bare minimum, efficiently finishing missions without small talk or celebration. and always rejecting their offers of help with a faraway look and shake of your head.

and on the day of the transfer, they still try to plead for you to stay. to apologize for what cannot, and can never be undone.

you’re fed up with all of it.

clearing your throat and murmuring just loud enough for them to hear,

“forgive me if i’m speaking out of line, but who was the one to call me quote, “an utterly worthless burden?” was it lieutenant riley or sergeant mactavish? perhaps it was sergeant garrick? well… it doesn’t matter anyway. you’ll be better off without a detriment dragging down your team.”

they look heartbroken, stammering out apologies after apologies, but it all sounds so empty to you. until johnny whimpers out “god, we’re so sorry. you didn’t deserve what we did to you, not at all. we’d— we’d do anything to take it back!” he’d go on and on until you cut him off.

“didn’t deserve it? of course i deserved it, i must have done something worth punishing. otherwise… otherwise…” you were trembling, your hands painfully clutching your arms. your head bent over and face obscured from your hair, eerily similar to when you were being tortured. the sight of you so battered and broken burned into their mind.

foolishly, someone reaches out a hand towards you and you jerk back violently, as if burned. hyperventilating and quivering as you dig your painfully throbbing fingers into your arms, eyes wide like a frightened animal. the sight of them, looking at you so concerned, the sight of your missing pinky and your bloodied fingertips, it’s all too much. the room in spinning, the floor is collapsing underneath you and your head feels like it’s underwater, “don’t— don’t touch me!”

your voice feels like it doesn’t belong to you, and you can’t take it anymore. blindly rushing out the door as fast as your feet can carry you. running away from the room— away from them, they don’t move to stop you, rooted firmly in place.

they knew they fucked up immensely, but it was only then that they understood the magnitude in which they ruined you. unintentionally led you to believe that you deserved the hell they put you through, only confirming and fortifying your feelings of being an outsider.

unworthy, burdening, all of those hurtful notions you held about yourself that they had once tried to erase, back a thousand fold.

and they had no one but themselves to blame for it.

(they nearly buckled under the weight of their actions. realizing that they’d never get the chance to even attempt to atone for what they’ve done. that you’d leave forever believing that they had hated you the whole time. and that you hate them now, too.)

pt2

[zu-is-here]

“No one could persuade the vindictive smithing god Hephaestus to return to Olympus and free his mother Hera, who had once abandoned him as a child for his ugliness, from his trap throne; until Dionysus, the god of festivity and insanity, came and intoxicated him...”

Happy birthday, @egnidres! (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)✿

Horror from horrortalecomic by sourapplestudios

Murder by ask-dusttale

[dollyfetti]

"can you just try?" your boyfriend gruffs, his tone gentle as he folds his arms. sitting across from you at a quiet cafe, his fingers lightly caress the back of your hand, sending a flutter through your chest. he's asking you— again— to order for yourself, just this once. he promised, "it'll feel good, trust me," but the thought of speaking up sends a shiver down your spine. you can't even remember the last time you asked for something from anyone.

"yeah, but it's their job to serve you..." he grunted with a tiny chuckle when you'd told him this the last time.

"i know, but i still feel bad..!" you muttered, twisting the hem of your maxi skirt around your fingers. he had grinned, pressed a kiss to your forehead, and let it go.

until now, of course.

he remembers when you were rambling to him one night, frustrated with how you could never speak up for yourself in any situation. you'd felt like a loser. (you are, but he refrained from saying so at the moment hehe)

"just try." he repeats, offering a rare, almost tender smile. you nod, a tiny smile pulling at your lips in response. the waitress comes back, notepad in hand as she asks for your orders, starting with your boyfriend.

"mapu tofu— please." he says, closing his menu with a small nod as she takes it from him.

she smiles, turning her attention to you. your gaze drops back to the menu, but it feels like you’re studying it for the first time. “what would you like?” she hums.

"umm," you mumble breathily. you blink at the many food choices, even though you already know what you want.

"i'll have the.. kimbap, please." you speak lowly, your voice quiet and tentative. your hands cling to the fabric of your skirt, shoulders slightly hunched as you unintentionally try to make yourself smaller.

the waitress leans in slightly, smiling sweetly. "i'm sorry, what was that?"

you feel them both watching you and shrivel in your seat. you inhale sharply, looking up to meet the waitress's gaze before quickly looking back down. "kimbap." you repeat, your voice a little steadier now, though your nerves still tangle in your chest.

she nods, jotting it down before walking away, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. you can't help but feel a little proud of yourself.

"jesus christ, felt like i was catching your introvertness." your boyfriend teases.

"shut up," you giggle, sliding your drink towards you.

"wasn't so bad, right?"

you shake your head, taking a sip of your drink as if it might help calm your racing heart.

"told ya so." he smirks, nudging your foot with his under the table

bakugou, aizawa, toji, zuko, eren, kuroo, + your favs !

[sunflowersteves]

Logan with you, certified yapper, who actually loves hearing your voice. People around him think he’s so grumpy and is annoyed. He never really responds, just sometimes grunts in agreement. They think he’s just brushing you off—especially since he also gets annoyed with Wade. In reality? He’s listening to every detail. You know because every morning you wake up with extra sugar in your coffee that you mentioned to him one time or another time when he gave you a warm blanket fresh out of the dryer because you said it was your favorite feeling. You once told him, in a fit of your ranting, that you had a thing for his arms. Ever since then, he’s been wearing more sleeveless tops even though it’s the dead of winter. He also knows all the gossip of your coworkers. Janet—fucking Janet—one time mouthed off about one little mistake you did and Logan sent her home crying because of all of the gossip you blabbed onto him when you got home from work. This man always listens to his girl.

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]