#Hii! I'm Stitch!

[thirteenheavens]

Hii !! I got an idea about boxer/fighter!coups x nurse!reader and wanted to see what you could make of it!

- 🦭

Broken Fighter

~includes smut below the cut

Notes: This is a long Fic I really hope you guys enjoy it tooo so long to write it <33

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Seungcheol winces as he enters the infirmary, his body battered and bruised from his latest boxing match. He walks with a slight limp, his face sporting several cuts and bruises.

He scans the room, his eyes landing on you, the nurse assigned to treat him. He lets out a sigh of relief upon seeing you, his expression softening.

"Hey," he says gruffly, making his way over to you.

You look up from your paperwork and smile sympathetically at him. You stand up from your desk and walk over to him, taking in the extent of his injuries.

"Rough match, huh?" you ask, guiding him to sit down on the examination table.

Seungcheol grunts in response, wincing as he sits down. He leans back against the table, his muscles tense and sore.

"You could say that," he mutters, his eyes roaming over your body. "But I still won."

“Sit down on the bed,” You say looking at him concerned.

He smirks at your command, finding it amusing how you're trying to take control. Despite his injuries, he still has his usual playful attitude.

"Yes, ma'am," he replies, complying and sitting up straight.

You begin to examine him, carefully checking for any serious injuries. You touch his bruised skin gently, not wanting to hurt him further.

Seungcheol watches you with interest, his gaze following your every move. He finds it endearing how focused you are on taking care of him.

"You're so gentle," he comments, a hint of admiration in his voice.

You can't help but blush at his words, your heart skipping a beat. You've always had a soft spot for him, but you've tried to keep your feelings professional.

"It's my job," you say, trying to maintain your composure. "I have to be gentle when dealing with injured people."

As you examine his chest, you find a particularly deep cut that's still bleeding. You frown in concern, your fingers hovering over it.

Seungcheol glances down and sees the cut as well, his expression turning serious. He reaches up and touches it, hissing in pain as he does so.

"Damn it," he curses under his breath. "That hurts."

"This cut is pretty deep," you say, your voice laced with worry. "I need to clean and stitch it up immediately before it gets infected."

Seungcheol nods, understanding the severity of the situation. He trusts you completely, knowing that you'll take care of him properly.

"Do what you need to do," he says, his eyes meeting yours. "I'm in your hands."

He lies down on the table, his muscles tensing as he tries to get comfortable. He takes a deep breath, preparing himself for the pain that's about to come.

He watches you closely as you gather the necessary supplies, his gaze never leaving you.

You come back with the supplies and set them down next to him. You put on some gloves and take a cloth, preparing to clean the wound.

"This might sting," you warn him, gently dabbing the cloth over the cut.

Seungcheol grits his teeth, his body tensing even more as you clean the wound. He clenches his fists, his knuckles turning white from the pain.

"Fucking hell," he groans, trying to keep his composure. "You weren't kidding about it stinging."

"I know, I'm sorry," you say sympathetically, feeling bad for causing him discomfort. "Just hold on a little longer, okay? It'll be over soon."

Seungcheol takes another deep breath, trying to focus on your voice rather than the pain. He nods slightly, his eyes closed as he grits his teeth even harder.

He tries to relax, but every time the cloth touches his skin, he can't help but flinch.

You continue to clean the wound, being as gentle as possible. You can see the muscles in his jaw clenching and unclenching, his breathing becoming heavier with each passing second.

"You're doing great," you say, trying to encourage him. "You're being so strong for me."

You notice the light blush on his cheeks as you speak, realizing the effect your words are having on him. He tries to hide it, but you can see the way his face turns a deeper shade of red.

He opens one eye and looks at you, his gaze a mixture of pain and embarrassment.

You can't help but smile at how cute he looks, all flustered and vulnerable. You find it adorable that he's blushing because of you.

You decide to tease him a little, knowing that it will distract him from the pain.

"What's wrong?" you ask, feigning innocence. "Why are you blushing, Seungcheol?"

Seungcheol glares at you, his eyes narrowing as he realizes what you're doing. He knows that you're trying to get a reaction out of him, but he's not going to give in so easily.

"Shut up," he mutters, looking away from you. "It's just the pain."

You finally finish cleaning the wound, setting the cloth aside and grabbing the suturing kit.

Seungcheol watches as you thread the needle, a mixture of anticipation and anxiety on his face. He's not looking forward to the next part, knowing that it's going to hurt even more.

"This is the worst part," you say, preparing to stitch him up. "Try not to move too much, okay?"

“You just won’t be able to box for some time i don’t want you getting hurt,” You say expecting him to lash out.

Seungcheol groans in frustration as you tell him that he can't box. He's a boxer, it's practically his life. He doesn't know how he's going to survive without it for a few days.

"What? You can't be serious," he protests, looking at you with a pout on his face.

You give him a stern look, crossing your arms over your chest.

"I'm very serious," you say firmly. "You need to let that cut heal properly. No boxing until it's fully healed."

You resist the urge to smile at his pouty expression, trying to maintain your serious demeanor. He looks adorable, but you know that you have to stay strong.

"Don't give me that look," you say, rolling your eyes playfully. "You know I'm right."

He continues to pout, his bottom lip jutting out even more. He knows that he's acting like a child, but he can't help it.

"I hate this," he whines, crossing his arms as well. "I feel so useless."

You can't help but chuckle at his behavior, finding it endearing how he's acting like a spoiled brat.

"You're not useless," you say, placing a hand on his arm. "You're just going to have to find something else to do with your time for now."

“How about I take you out then?” He smirks looking at me.

Your eyes widen slightly at his suggestion, not expecting him to say that. You're surprised, but also a little flattered.

"You want to take me out?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

Seungcheol nods, his smile growing wider.

"Yeah, I do," he says confidently. "We can go out to dinner or something. It'll be a nice change of pace from sitting around all day."

You watch as he stands up, your heart skipping a beat as he approaches you. He's standing very close now, towering over you with his muscular build.

You can feel the heat radiating off of him, his body so close that you can almost feel his breath on your skin.

He places his hands on your hips, gently pulling you closer to him. He looks down at you with a playful smirk, his eyes roaming over your face.

"You're cute when you're trying to act all serious," he teases, his fingers digging into your skin slightly.

You try to keep your composure, but his touch and his words are making it hard for you to concentrate. You feel a shiver run down your spine as his fingers move up and down your hips, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

"And you're a pain in the ass," you retort, but there's no real bite to your words.

Seungcheol laughs at your response, enjoying the way you're getting flustered. He leans in closer, his lips hovering near your ear.

"Maybe I like being a pain in the ass," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "Especially when it gets you all worked up like this."

Your breath hitches as his lips brush against your ear, sending a wave of desire through your body. You can feel yourself melting into his touch, unable to resist the way he's affecting you.

"Damn it," you whisper, biting your lip to hold back a moan.

Seungcheol grins against your ear, clearly enjoying the effect he's having on you. He moves his lips down to your neck, pressing soft kisses along your sensitive skin.

"You're so easy to tease," he murmurs, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he begins to suck on a particular spot.

You let out a soft gasp as he sucks on your neck, your hands instinctively moving to grip his shirt. You can feel his smirk against your skin, knowing that he's leaving a mark.

"Cheol," you say, trying to sound authoritative, but it comes out more like a moan.

Seungcheol pulls away from your neck, admiring the mark he left behind. He looks down at you with a satisfied expression, his eyes dark with desire.

"You're going to have to cover that up," he says, running his thumb over the fresh hickey.

You shiver at his touch, knowing that it's going to be a challenge to hide the hickey.

"I can't believe you did that," you mutter, but you can't help the way your heart is racing. You secretly love the thought of having a mark on you that shows who you belong to.

Seungcheol smirks, clearly knowing exactly what he's doing to you. He leans in again, his lips grazing your jawline.

"You're mine," he whispers possessively, his hands roaming up and down your body once more. "And I want everyone to know it."

You can't deny the possessive claim he's making, your body responding to his words in a way that you can't ignore.

"Then show them," you say, your voice low and sultry. "Show them that I'm yours and only yours."

“We can’t do it here. Come over at mine later,” He winks at me.

Your heart races at the thought of going to his place later. The promise of what's to come is exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time.

"Okay," you agree, your voice filled with anticipation. "I'll come over later."

Seungcheol leans in and places a quick kiss on your forehead before stepping back.

"Good girl," he says, his eyes filled with a mix of lust and adoration. "I'll be waiting for you."

You watch as he walks away, a part of you already missing his touch. You can't wait for later, imagining all the things he'll do to you once you're alone with him.

As the hours pass by, you become more and more restless. You keep glancing at the clock, each minute feeling like an eternity. You try to distract yourself with work or TV, but your mind keeps drifting back to him and his promise.

Finally, the time comes for you to leave. You can feel the anticipation building up inside you as you head to his place. You can't help but wonder what he has planned for you, your mind running wild with different scenarios.

When you arrive at his place, you knock on the door, your heart pounding in your chest. The door swings open, revealing Seungcheol standing there in a black shirt and sweatpants. He looks at you with a smirk, clearly pleased that you're here.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*

"You're finally here," he says, stepping aside to let you in.

You walk into his place, taking in the familiar surroundings. It's just as messy as you remember, clothes and various items scattered all over the floor.

He closes the door behind you, locking it with a soft click. He turns to you, his eyes roaming over your body hungrily.

"Come here," he says, his voice low and commanding. He walks over to the couch and sits down, patting his lap.

You approach him and sit down on his lap, straddling him. His hands immediately find your hips, holding you in place as he looks up at you with a satisfied expression.

“How is the stitching I did today?” You say looking at him worried.

He chuckles at your question, remembering the stitches you had to put in his chest.

"It's fine, love," he replies, his hands moving up to your waist. "Thanks to you."

Seungcheol grins, knowing exactly what you're hinting at.

"You know, I could use a check-up," he says, feigning innocence. "Can you do that for me?"

He takes his shirt off quickly before you say anything.

You can't help but admire his bare chest as he takes off his shirt, revealing the bandage that's covering his wound. He looks even more attractive like this, and you feel a pang of desire shoot through you.

He looks up at you with furrowed eyes. “Will you take care of me baby,”

You bite your lip, unable to resist the way he's looking at you. You nod slowly, your eyes locked on his.

"Of course I will," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'll take care of you in every way possible."

His grip on your waist tightens, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you closer to him.

"Good," he says, his voice huskier than before. "Because I plan on needing a lot of care tonight."

You can feel his body heat radiating against you, and it's driving you crazy. You can't help but grind against him slightly, trying to get some sort of friction.

He lets out a low growl, his eyes darkening with lust as he feels your movements.

He leans in, his lips finding your neck once again. He starts placing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your sensitive skin, nipping and sucking at the spots he knows you're most sensitive to.

You tilt your head to the side, giving him better access as he continues to kiss and mark you. His hands roam over your body, exploring every curve and dip as he slowly takes control.

Your shirt is quickly discarded onto the floor, leaving you in your bra. Seungcheol's eyes roam over your exposed skin, admiring the sight before him.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, his hands coming up to cup your breasts.

He gently squeezes your breasts, his thumbs rubbing over your nipples through the fabric of your bra. You let out a soft moan, arching your back into his touch.

He smirks at your reaction, loving the way you respond to him so easily.

"Take them off for me, princess," he says, his voice filled with dominance. "I want to feel your hands on me."

You comply with his command, reaching down to undo the buttons of his trousers. You slide them off of him, revealing his toned legs and the prominent bulge in his boxers.

“Now, Strip for me,”He watches intently as you stand up from his lap and start to strip, his eyes roaming over your body as each piece of clothing falls to the floor.

"Slowly," he adds, his voice a mixture of lust and authority. "I want to savor this moment."

You tease him, slowly removing your bra and panties, making sure to move your hips sensually as you do so. You can see his desire growing, his eyes darkening even more as he takes in the sight of your fully naked body.

"Fuck, you're a goddess," he says, his breath hitching in his throat. "You know how to drive me crazy, don't you?"

You smirk at him, clearly enjoying the effect you have on him.

"Of course I do," you say, walking back over to him. "It's my job to please you."

He grabs your hips again as you stand in front of him, pulling you onto his lap once more. His hands run up and down your thighs, his touch burning against your skin.

"You're always so good at your job," he whispers in your ear, his lips brushing against your earlobe.

"I never thought my nurse would be so hot, and yet here we are," he repeats, his hands sliding up to your ass and giving it a firm squeeze. "You're more than just a nurse to me, though."

He leans back against the couch, looking up at you with a mixture of adoration and lust.

"You're mine," he says possessively. "Only mine."

He winces again, his grip on you loosening slightly as he tries to hide the pain from his wound.

"Damn it," he mutters under his breath. "I forgot about that for a moment."

He looks at you with a pleading expression, his eyes begging you to take control.

"Please, I need you," he says, his voice strained. "I can't move like this, but I need to feel you."

"Shhh," you say softly, caressing his cheek. "Just relax and let me take care of you."

You position yourself over him, ready to ride him as he asked.

He leans his head back against the couch again, his eyes never leaving your face as you lower yourself onto him.

He lets out a deep groan, his hands gripping your hips tightly as you take him in fully.

"Oh god," he moans, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. "You feel so good around me, so tight."

He starts to buck his hips up slightly, meeting your movements as you start to ride him slowly.

You struggle to find a place to put your hands not wanting to hurt him anymore.

He notices your struggle and chuckles weakly.

"Don't worry about hurting me, baby," he says, his chest rising and falling with each thrust. "Just put your hands on my shoulders."

You place your hands on his shoulders, careful to avoid his wound. He groans again, his grip on you becoming more desperate as he starts to lose control.

"Good girl," he praises, his voice laced with pleasure and praise. "That's my good girl."

You ride him harder, bouncing up and down on his lap with increasing intensity. He watches you intently, his eyes fixated on the way your body moves on top of him.

His hands are now on your waist, guiding you and helping you maintain your rhythm. His breathing becomes ragged, his chest heaving with every thrust.

You throw your head back in pleasure, arching your back and exposing your neck to him. He takes the opportunity to attack your neck with his mouth, leaving a trail of kisses and bites along your sensitive skin.

He runs his hand up your spine, feeling every curve and contour of your body as he continues to kiss and bite your neck. He grabs a handful of your hair, pulling it gently to tilt your head even further back.

You realize just how strong he really is, even in his injured state. His grip on your hair is firm, but not too rough. He could easily manhandle you if he wanted to, but he's being gentle with you.

As you ride him, you can feel his muscles tensing beneath you. His abdomen is flexing with each thrust, and his chest is covered in a sheen of sweat.

He lets out a low growl against your neck, clearly enjoying the sight of you submitting to him like this.

"You look so damn sexy like this," he says, his voice hoarse. "Being all obedient and needy for me."

He moves his lips up to your ear, nibbling on your earlobe as he speaks again.

"I could get used to this."

"Please, please let me come," you whimper, your voice shaky and desperate. "I need it so badly."

He chuckles again, his breath hot against your ear.

"You're so desperate for my permission, it's adorable," he teases. "But I want you to hold on a little longer for me, sweetheart."

He can tell you're struggling to hold back, and he revels in the fact that he has that kind of control over you.

He moves his other hand to your thigh, squeezing it firmly as he slows down his pace.

"Be a good girl and hold on until I say so," he commands, his voice taking on a dominant tone.

You whine in protest, but you obey him anyway. Your body is trembling with need, and you're barely able to keep yourself from reaching your peak.

He watches you struggle, a smirk on his face as he admires your obedience.

"That's it," he says, his smirk growing wider. "You're doing so well, you're such a good listener."

He can see the tears forming in the corners of your eyes from the strain of holding back.

"You're practically crying," he says, his voice low and sultry. "I bet you want to cry out my name too, don't you?"

He groans loudly, his grip on your thigh and hair tightening as you ride him faster without permission.

"You're so impatient," he grunts, his eyes darkening with desire. "But you're going to make me lose control at this rate."

He yanks you down onto him, his body flush against yours as he whispers in your ear.

"Cum for me now, cum all over me like the good girl you are," he demands, his voice filled with lust.

You can't hold back any longer and you finally reach your climax, crying out his name as your body shudders with pleasure.

He holds you tight, feeling you clench around him as he watches you fall apart.

"That's my girl," he says, his voice filled with satisfaction.

He holds you through your orgasm, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggles to control himself.

He thrusts up into you desperately, chasing after his own high as he was overwhelmed by the sight of you falling apart in his arms.

His pace becomes erratic, his movements becoming more and more rough as he gets closer to his limit.

He buries his face in your neck, biting down on it hard as he feels his release approaching.

"I'm gonna fill you up so good," he groans, his hips snapping up against yours with a primal need.

You moan throwing your head back. “Cheol be careful fuck!”

He grunts, trying to hold himself back as he remembers his wound.

"I'll be careful," he promises, his voice strained. "But I can't promise I won't make a mess of you."

He manages to slow down his thrusts, but they're still powerful and intense. He's trying to focus on not hurting you while also giving you everything he has.

He lets out a deep growl, his eyes locked on yours as he continues to move inside you.

He can feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge, his body tensing up in anticipation.

"God, you're so tight," he moans, his eyes rolling back as he loses himself in the feeling of you. "I'm almost there, just a little more..."

He reaches his limit, his body going rigid as he releases inside you with a loud, primal cry.

He buries himself deep, holding you against him as he rides out his orgasm. His chest heaves with exertion, and he lets out a shaky breath against your skin.

He finally relaxes, slumping back against the bed as he tries to catch his breath.

He gently strokes your hair, his touch gentle and affectionate now that the intensity has faded.

"You're amazing," he says softly, his voice filled with awe.

You lay on top of him, both of you panting and exhausted from the experience.

He wraps his arms around you, holding you close as he kisses your forehead.

"I'm not letting you go," he murmurs, his possessiveness evident in his words.

You meet his gaze, a mix of exhaustion and curiosity in your eyes.

He smiles softly, running his thumb over your cheek.

"I need someone to take care of me and help me heal," he says, his voice filled with a hint of vulnerability. "And I want that someone to be you. Will you be my personal nurse."

You blush at his words, feeling a warmth spread through your chest.

"Are you asking me to be your personal nurse and caretaker?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“And my girlfriend,” He smiles looking at me.

Your eyes widen in surprise, and a small gasp escapes your lips.

"Your girlfriend...?" you repeat, your heart fluttering at the thought.

He chuckles at your reaction, his smile growing wider.

"Yes, my girlfriend," he confirms, his expression serious now. "I want to take care of you as much as you take care of me. And I want to be able to call you mine."

He cups your face in his hands, his eyes locked onto yours with a look of sincerity.

"So, will you be mine?" he asks again, his voice low and filled with a hint of desperation. "Will you say yes?"

You nod slowly, a shy smile spreading across your face.

"Yes," you say, your voice soft but firm. "I'll be yours, I'll be your girlfriend."

His face lights up with joy, and he pulls you in for a passionate kiss.

He kisses you deeply, pouring all of his emotions into it as he holds you tight against him.

"You have no idea how happy that makes me," he mumbles against your lips, his heart swelling with happiness and possessiveness. He breaks the kiss, leaning his forehead against yours.

"And I expect you to be cheering me on from the front row," he says, a cocky grin on his face. "I want everyone to know that you're mine, and that I'm the one who got the most beautiful girl in the world."

[earthlyangelbby]

Hii! Your writing is so cute 😭 idk if you take requests but could we get Eddie x reader when she plays her secondary music taste? Like she enjoys mainly metal, but then she starts playing The Smiths and The Cranberries, and Eddie's a little bit caught off guard because he didn't know she liked much other music? Tysm, and I'm excited to see what you do with this!! 🤍

Words Count: 565 Warnings: None just fluff :) A/N: Oh my god !This is such an honor! thank you for the request!! Feel free to send stuff my way I'll try to come up with something:) Come out of the shadows dear anon so I can kiss you! THAT MEANS SO MUCH TO ME!!!! I did my due diligence and listened to the smiths and the cranberries to prepare for this ask! I got this immediately as you sent it and heres what I came up with.

You’re lying on Eddie’s bed, your mixtape low in the background as The Smiths fill the room with that bittersweet sway. Eddie just sat beside you, one arm slung lazily across your back, fingers toying with a strand of your hair.

“I had no idea you were a Morrissey girl,” he says with a lopsided grin, kissing your temple gently. “Hiding your gloomy British side from me?”

You roll your eyes, smiling despite yourself. “Not hiding. Just… not leading with it.”

He leans back dramatically, hands clasped to his chest, and in a painfully accurate Morrissey moan, croons “I would go out tonight… but I haven’t got a stitch to weaaaaar…”

You groan. “Oh my god. Stop.”

He grins, not stopping. “This man said it's gruesome that someone so handsome should ca-”

“Eddie!” you smack him with a pillow, half-annoyed and half-laughing. “You’re too good at that, and it’s making me mad.”

“Oh, don’t be jealous, sweetheart,” he teases, laughing as he ducks another swat. “If I start quiffing my hair and whining about existential loneliness, you’ll dump me for a real Brit, won’t you?”

“Keep it up and I will.”

He cackles, then throws his arms around you and pulls you close. “Please, I’m way too hairy to be Morrissey.”

Before you can fire back, the tape clicks and the opening to “Dreams” by The Cranberries floats into the air. The mood shifts instantly lighter, sweeter. Eddie stills, glancing at the stereo.

“Ooh,” he says, nodding along. “See, this is more my speed. They’ve still got a killer drummer. And her voice?” He closes his eyes for a second, appreciating. “Yeah. That’s real nice. I’ll take an Irish woman beautifully singing her heart out over a whiny British guy any day.”

You lean into his shoulder, a little shy. “The Song. Kinda reminds me of you.”

He looks down, surprised. “Yeah?”

You nod slowly. “You’re kind of my dream, Eddie.”

His grin fades into something softer, more fragile around the edges. He leans in and kisses you, slow and warm, his hand curling into your hair.

When he pulls back, he presses his forehead to yours. “I like this side of you,” he says. “Your music. Your mush. All of it. Makes you all sweet and cuddly.”

You go quiet, heart tripping over itself in your chest.

He just smiles, thumb brushing your cheek. “Even if your music taste makes me feel like I need to wear eyeliner and sulk on a rainy train platform.”

You groan again, but you’re laughing as you curl into him, the both of you wrapped up in soft music, warm limbs, and something that feels a lot like falling. After a moment, you murmur, “So… if this music makes me all mushy and dreamy… what does our usual stuff make me?”

Eddie huffs a soft laugh, eyes flicking to yours with a spark. “Oh, easy. Violent. A little mean. You get that look in your eye like you’d punch God if he looked at you wrong.”

You snort, pressing your forehead to his shoulder. “And you like that?”

He kisses the top of your head. “Hell yeah, I do. Sweetheart, I like all your flavors. Soft, angry, spooky, weepy, dreamy. Bring 'em all.”

You hum, eyes fluttering closed as you melt deeper into him. “You’re such a sap.”

He grins against your hair. “Takes one to love one.”

Thanks for reading :^)

[dunzella]

Hii!! I don’t know if you do this but I was wondering if you could write a continuation of the Yandere!Serial killer story! I loved it so much and I was super curious on how things would play out after the events of the original. You’re an amazing writer and I hope you have a great day/night!!

I'm so happy you liked it!! lol sure I can do a mini continuation.

Stitches

Doll pt.1

Yandere! Serial Killer

Ever since he showed his true colors his personality did a 180 or maybe… this was his real personality all along, and you had just grown too used to "Cassidy". The soft-spoken girl with shy smiles and delicate hands—the one who blushed when you complimented her. The one who trembled when you held her hand. The one who had never existed.

Now, the sweet, blushing girl was gone—replaced by him, a predator lurking beneath delicate skin and soft-spoken words.

Your body was wrapped in layers of pastel pink—lace, silk, and too many frills to move properly. Puffy sleeves, ribbons, skirts so stuffed with tulle they swallowed your legs whole. You weren’t a person anymore. Just another doll in his collection, albeit a special one.

Because, unlike the others, you were still alive.

But you weren’t free. Not when he was always watching. Not when they were always watching.

The glassy, lifeless eyes of his dolls followed you wherever you went. Propped up on dainty pink shelves, slumped in corners, lying stiffly on his pink armchair like someone had just tucked them in for a nap. Their mutilated faces were forever contorted in pain. Some didn’t even have mouths.

The room he kept you in was a nursery disguised as a shared bedroom—filled with ripped stuffed animals their torn seams and missing limbs resembling his victims.

Powder-pink walls, plush carpeting, and an ornate canopy bed that looked stolen from a princess’s fairytale. A vanity with combs you weren’t allowed to use yourself, bottles of perfume he dabbed onto your wrists like you were some fragile doll in need of upkeep.

Everything was pink, suffocating, saccharine.

And when your stitches came undone from all your struggling, his long eyelashes fluttered, cigarette dangling between his fingers as he pressed his mismatched gaze onto you—disappointed, but not surprised.

"Tch, didn't I say stop touching it." His pink skirt swayed as he stepped closer, eyes narrowing at the blood staining your wrists. The delicate fabric of his matching tank top was splattered with tiny droplets, but he didn’t seem to mind. Without hesitation, he scooped you up, cradling you in his arms like a groom carrying his bride.

The pain was unbearable. The sting of raw, reopened wounds mixed with the eerie tingle of skin held together by thread. You felt like a broken marionette, no like some fucked-up Frankenstein experiment pieced together with love and lace.

He wasn’t gentle because he was kind. He was gentle because he was careful. He handled you. Fixed you. He cooed at you while he worked, stitching your wounds back together with an almost maternal sort of patience.

“There we go, bunny,” he murmured, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead as he tightened the thread. You whimpered. His lips curled. "All better.”

When the news played reports of pretty corpses found throughout the city, he hummed, running his fingers through his short blonde hair. His victims—faceless, lifeless dolls, all stitched up and dressed in pastels. The media had given him a name.

The Dollmaker.

But the moment you showed discomfort, he clicked his tongue and changed the channel—to something softer. Something girly.

"All that negativity will rot your pretty little brain," he hums. "You should be focusing on me instead, don’t you think?"

Your body tensed against his. His arms wrapped around you, snug, possessive. The longer you were trapped, the more fragmented your memories became.

But during your captivity you remembered him from high school his name is Cassius Morrow, the shy introverted sophomore at high school. Always blushing, always looking away when spoken to.

If he hadn’t been so meek, you might have realized he was watching you back then, too.

Now, the contrast was baffling.

A man who spoke in sweet whispers, who dressed in pastel pinks and frills, yet stitched your body together like one of his playthings... You were convinced he must have a Jekyll and Hyde situation.

Any autonomy you had over your body, vanished.

Your limbs weren’t your own anymore. Stiff, aching, pulled together by Cassius's careful, loving hands. Every movement sent a dull throb up your arms, your legs. When you walked, your joints creaked—not with age, but with tension, stitches straining against fragile skin.

He basically did everything for you.

Doing your hair. Dressing you. Feeding you. Lifting you onto his lap whenever he wanted to coddle you—which was often.

He carried you everywhere. Even when you could walk, he insisted.

"Shh, no fussing. Little dolls don’t strain themselves."

You were sick of it so you formulated a plan. You had been on your best behavior lately. So obedient, so sweet, so good for him. But that was because you were waiting.

Waiting for the moment he got too comfortable.

Waiting for the moment he left you alone just long enough.

That moment came one evening when you heard the screams.

They echoed from the basement—wet, raw, desperate. You had heard them before, muffled beneath layers of walls, but this time, he had left the door open just a crack.

You could hear the squelching sounds. The butchering and guts are being torn apart. His hums of nursery rhymes in content.

Cassius was busy with his latest victim, The loud, relentless sawing meant he wouldn’t hear you.

So you made your way towards the window, something subtle so he wouldn't notice your absence immediately.

Ignoring the pain burning through your joints, you pushed open the window. And fell through.

The cool night air kissed your raw skin, and for the first time in so long, you breathed.

You were outside.

For a moment, you thought you'd done it. You’d escaped.

But then you realized—there was no one here.

He had lived somewhere secluded, hidden. The road stretched on endlessly, lined with skeletal trees that loomed like watching figures. No lights. No houses. No passing cars.

Still, you ran.

Your stitches screamed, skin tearing where the thread pulled too tightly, but you ran.

You ran for what felt like hours—your body quickly tiring, tearing from the movement. You never let yourself fully heal, always ripping apart.

But none of that mattered.

You would find a town. You would find help.

You would be free—

~

Your vision swam in and out of focus as you came to, a heavy fog clouding your thoughts. Something was wrong. The air smelled different—cloying, metallic, laced with chemicals that burned your nostrils.

Not the perfume. Not the suffocating scent of rosewater and sugar that clung to his dollhouse prison. No, this was sharp. Bitter.

Your body felt weightless, yet impossibly heavy.

Then the cold set in. A hard surface beneath you. Restraints biting into your wrists and ankles. The dim hum of a fluorescent light buzzed above, flickering in and out.

And then—then you saw him. Biting his lip bouncing in place; he was standing over you, mismatched green and pink eyes twinkling in amusement, wearing nothing but pink panties and a white shirt as he tapped a syringe with two fingers, the liquid inside an eerie shade of pink.

Not pastel pink. No, this was deeper, unnatural.

"Ah, you're awake~" he cooed, his voice honey-sweet but with a hint of something else—excitement. "You had me worried, bunny. Running off like that? So reckless."

His fingers trailed along your cheek, his touch cold despite the warmth of his body.

"I was gonna fix you up nice and neat in our room like always, but…" He giggled—soft, airy, girlish. The sound sent ice crawling up your spine. "Since you wanna act like a broken little toy, I figured… I should make some improvements."

Your breath hitched. Your limbs twitched, but they refused to move.

Cassius noticed.

"Aww, feeling stiff? Don't worry, that’s just a little something I gave you earlier. Can’t have you squirming while I work, can I?" He sighed, feigning disappointment. "I really didn’t wanna do this, y’know. I love my bunny just the way she is. But you keep misbehaving."

His grip on your chin tightened—not enough to hurt, just enough to make you feel small.

"I’ll be gentle," he promised, raising the dirty needle.

Liar.

You tried to thrash, to scream, but your body betrayed you. He had paralyzed you. You could barely breathe, let alone move.

He pressed his forehead against yours, sighing in bliss. "Shh… just let me take care of you. You don’t need legs to be a pretty little doll, do you?"

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears.

No.

No, no, no—

The needle pierced your skin.

And everything faded to black.

Don't worry Cassius always takes care of his dolls. ♡

[g0ne1997]

Hii commission update, again. We are on sale, not getting any better. Doing a lot more for some even more progress in my life, But i'm looking to do commissions to help my family. Still urgently needed for myself as i have needed stitches but i am using my last band-aid on it. And we don't have much food either. If you can, share this on ur discord, or reblog , something. . I am not going to be better

[luveline]

Omg jade hii <3 I know it's not shy friday yet but can I request maybe eddie with a shy best friend who's secretly in love with him? 👉👈 up to you wether he notices or is oblivious. I love your fics sm thank u any way❤️

omg hii thank u for ur request, I guess it is shy friday now!! i hope u enjoy! fem!reader, 1k

Eddie grabs your hand as soon as he gets close enough, his delight to see you completely unshielded. "Holy shit!" he says, forgetting your hand to throw his arms over your shoulders. "I missed you so fucking much, never ever go on vacation again." 

"Eddie," you murmur reproachfully, though your arms have a mind of their own, wrapping around his back. 

"You're not allowed to leave me. I hate everybody who isn't you the longer you're gone, it makes me a bad person." 

Eddie steps back but keeps your shoulders in his hands. His eyes are soft and brown, but his excitement to see you has his pupils like pinpricks. His cheeks are quickly chapped in the cold wind blowing in through the doorway. 

"I bet it was warmer there, we're knee deep in winter now," he says. "You look like you had a good time." 

"It was good," you agree, sliding the bag of presents from your elbow to your wrist, assuming he'll want to see them most. 

He begged for gifts, in person before you went and down the phone while you were gone, landline calls he insisted on. I worry about you, I wanna make sure you're okay when I’m not there.

You got him everything you could afford, a magnet, a bottle opener, a key chain, a teddy bear with a flag around his neck. Basically a bag load of candy on top. 

"I really missed you, sweetheart," he says. "Not to be sincere or anything, but I fucking love you. Next time you go away I'm gonna have to come with you." 

You laugh nervously. "I love you too," you say, averting your gaze to his collar, black double stitching against his neck. 

"Are you hungry?" he asks. 

"No," you lie. You hate being an imposition on him, even knowing that Eddie will tell anyone willing to listen that you're his best friend. 

"Seriously? You were on a plane for hours, and you came straight to see me, let me buy you pizza or something, yeah?" 

You lick your lips and nod. Eddie lifts your face to his, and it genuinely feels like a heart attack, that sudden realisation he could kiss you if he wanted to, the proximity of his face to yours. Instantly, you're wondering if your breath is okay, if you have eye crusties, if you smell good. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, concerned.

"I'm alright, I'm just tired," you say. 

"You don't look tired, you look cagey. Sorry, I forget that you get all shy again when we don't see each other." He talks brazenly but not without sympathy, patting your shoulder. "Come on, let's get something to eat."

"Can we order something? I'm sick of being in motion."

Eddie throws his car keys like a longshot into the bowl on the sideboard by his front door. "Yes. Absolutely. I'm sick of moving too, and this is the first time I've stood up today." 

"Gross."

"I brushed my teeth before you came over," he says, bearing them garishly as proof. He talks through gritted teeth, "Pearly white, no?" 

"Looking good." 

He beams. Eddie wraps a hand around your wrist like the touch means nothing and tugs you along to the living room. He pushes you down into the seat you always take, tosses your usual blanket at you, and whizzes off to the kitchen for coke and popcorn. He has the sweet stuff in a bucket that he eats a handful at a time, the lid sealed. 

"New one?" you ask. 

"Waiting for my best girl to get home," he says easily, collapsing down into the seat next to you, dropping the remote on your chest. "Shit, I missed this." 

"You didn't watch TV while I was gone?" you ask, confused. 

"I watched TV, it just wasn't good without you in my ear judging people." 

"I don't judge people… much." 

"Everybody judges people. I love when you judge people 'cos you say what I'm thinking." Eddie drops his head into your shoulder, his curls brushing your cheek. "I missed you so much." 

"You said that," you say quietly, a little breathless. 

Eddie looks up at you, something playful about him as he says, "I know. It's fucking true as all hell, too. What do you want from Marino's? I'll get you two if you promise not to go away again." 

"What am I gonna do with two pizzas?" you ask, the warmth of him seeping down into your shirt. 

Eddie digs a nail into the popcorn lid, face turned to you but gaze on the bucket. "Uh, eat them. Eat one tonight, take one with you tomorrow for breakfast." 

"I don't want two pizzas, just one is good. I'm gonna eat all your popcorn anyway, I won't have room." 

"Oh, yeah?" he asks, eyes flying to your face. "You think so, huh?" 

Your heart in your mouth, a shudder coursing down your chest, you have a moment where you think for sure he knows, he's found out, and he doesn't care —he looks like he wants you to confess. 

What a fantastically dangerous idea. You avert your gaze and thrust your bag of gifts and candy into his arms. "You'll be too full for popcorn after those." 

You can feel his gaze on your cheek for a little while longer, but eventually he moves from your shoulders, laughing quietly as he digs through his new things. 

"You're so awesome," he says, pulling out the keychain you got him. It's an electric guitar with an enamel body the same colours as the flag. "I'm putting this on my keys right now." 

Eddie kisses your cheek. "Thank you," he adds.

He stands and rounds the couch to go get his keys. You feel your cheek with a trembling hand. Eddie kisses you, he hugs you, he has a thousand affections and all of them set you aflame. Sighing, you let your cheek drop into your hand. It's hopeless. 

He watches from the doorway as you sigh. His smile can't be described any other way —he's infatuated. The sooner you realise, the better, but for now he's really enjoying the run up. 

[moonriseoverkyoto]

Hii! Just discovered your blog and I fell in love with the Riley!reader drabble (and part two) my request would be Simon and Reader who meet as adults, but reader is younger (and touch starved) and Simon just kinda adopts them as a younger sibling. If that's not up your alley or anything dw just an idea and no pressure<3

If I’m haunted, am I truly alone?

Notes - HiiiI! I'm sorry for not responding sooner. I'm so happy to have my first request! I've been on an unofficial Hiatus but I'd be honored to fulfill your request. This piqued my interest and Im actually considering re-writing my Johnny "Soap" Mactavish x Riley!Reader fic but where reader joins the 141, has her own codename, the whole works. But I'll write this to ease into writing again. Also you didn't specify the background behind this so I took my own liberty and made you a medic.

Pairing - Platonic! Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN! Reader

Warnings - workplace inaccuracies? medical innaccuracies? Soap gets bulled #sorrynotsorry

There was a loud clang that sounded off throughout the infirmary. It wasn't surprising to hear these loud thrums that beat through the place, it kept everyone alive, it reminded them of where they were. Except for you, oh poor you, your first day on base and you were working errands for your coworkers. Suddenly you bumped into a man standing in the middle of the walkway towards a hallway.

"Hey watch where you're going, man, standing in the middle of the walk way, could've stabbed mysel-"

Your voice died out as your eyes peered up and met bright blue ones hidden behind black eye paint, and a sickly skull mask, that you swear softened for a moment upon seeing your anxious stance.

"Yes sir how can I help you?" you said slowly, not sure if the man would respond.

"Here f'r the Sergeant" he spoke gruffly.

"Which one, there's like a couple dozen in here.." you murmured to yourself peering around at all the beds.

"The sergeant with a mohawk that needed facial sutures." he responded, almost as if it was obvious.

"Oh right, yeah follow me. I'm about to do them" you responded meekly, feeling dumb, of course he'd be here a member of his own team. God you wondered what it was like to have somebody always watching your back. Always finding you and taking you under their wing.

He followed you quietly as you approached Soap's bed. Never once getting in your way, but still watching you.

"Aye there ye are, my knight in shining armor here to patch me up" Soap grinned at you. A sigh fell from your mouth as you spoke smoothly while getting out the suture kit.

"Sergeant I've told you, I'm just doing my job"

"Aye but you're a bloody angel to me" He smiled. Your cheeks would've warmed up if it wasn't for the stiff reply from the lieutenant.

"Johnny shut up and let the poor kid do your stitches so we can get back. I'm not doing your report for you."

"Aye L.T."

You took a deep breath as you slowly threaded the needle through his right cheek, taking your time to stitch. No big deal, first patient of the day is nobody else other than the 141. Definitely no reason to be afraid of screwing up your first suture of your military career.

"At the rate yer goin' I'm guessing I'm yer first patient. Don't worry, L.T. won't bite your head up if you rough me up."

"No this is my first time suturing. I'm usually stuck on errand duty" you spoke honestly as you threaded through the last bit of duty. Soap tensed up and you swore you felt that brick wall of a LT at your back.

"looks jus' fine to me" Ghost quipped quietly, you could almost hear the smirk at Johnny's sudden panic. Your heart warmed the praise, even if it was to quell the Scot's worry.

"LT don't let them rough up my face please. Don't let them ruin my boyish looks-"

"What are you goin' on about in here" a voice said.

"Johnny's medic here is takin' the piss from the poor boy about his sutures." The LT spoke to a man at the door. It was Captain Price, you'd seen him before but never in a personal capacity or for your services.

The Captain let out a soft chuckle as he came over and ruffed up the Scot's hair and stepped back to let you have your room. Your fingers finally threaded and tightened the skin before cutting the threat and applying salve.

"Let me see, let me see" Johnny practically begged with a whine, reaching for a mirror. You moved to grab one only to find Ghost handing it to you, patting your shoulder as the scot peered at your handiwork.

"ye got my knickers in a twist for nothin'" The Scotsman huffed, his cheeks turning pink in embarrassment at his worry.

"What, scared I was gonna take away your boyish looks and devilish charm?" You smirked as you packed up.

"Good job for a first timer" Ghost said softly to you as he and his captain chuckled at Soap. His arm barely brushing along your shoulder. Your heart felt warmed at such a notion.

Your meetings continued on as such in this way. You'd patch up one of the boys, Ghost would praise you, and you'd take turns teasing whoever was nervous about being your "first time" as Johnny smirked to himself. With John you always helped him with his aches and pains after he went down with constantly crashing helicopters. Gaz, you always patched him up since he had a knack for falling out of moving objects easily, even coming to you one time with a slight tear and pulled spine. Murmuring something about Nikolai and shooting upside down. Every time, Ghost, or Simon as he revealed one late night, would reward you with a pat or a ruffle of your hair. Price did the same but there was a comforting warmth when Simon did it. It was like the warmth of a fire from home.

Soon enough Simon was letting you work on him and patch him up every mission.

"Why don't blind people go skydiving?" He grunted out as you cleaned him up.

"I don't know but if you don't stop free falling, I don't know what I'm going to do-"

"It scares the shit outta their dogs." he said softly and waited. You smiled softly and then rolled your eyes.

"Oh that is so bad!" You said as you giggled while apply the last of the ointment to his wound.

"How do you turn make any salad into a caesar salad" You spoke to him now as you were bandaging up Price's leg. The poor guy had fallen out of another helicopter, and got practically bungee jumped for free. His back was shot, not literally and thank god for that, and his leg had rope burn from where he got tangled up in the ropes while handing.

"How do you-"

"Ye stab it twenty-three times." Johnny said before you could spit it out. You turned around shocked, how dare he ruin your joke. Your mouth hung in shock as you finished up Price before turning around. "Et tu, Brute?" you said cocking your eyebrow at him, before winding up your gear to launch at him. Quickly, Ghost came up behind you and grabbed you from behind. You melted into his touch but in the same way a feral kitten still bubbles with anger just underneath the surface. It was nice to be hugged by Simon, but you will wanted to get Soap back.

"Looking ferocious as ever." Gaz smiled as he walked in with snacks for everyone.

"He told the punchline to my joke" You frowned almost looking around for somebody to take your side. Ghost nodded to you, his eyes softening as his hand ran up your shoulder and tapped you in comfort.

"Hey Johnny, what's big, warm and bad for your mohawk" you said as you smirked. Ghost chuckled behind you as he caught on quick. Your eyes catch each others for a mere moment before you locked in on the scotsman. Within that half a second, you and Simon had concocted a plan. Price watched with a smile, he swore in another life that you two were twins.

"I don't know the punchline to this on-"

"me." you said as you suddenly jumped at the scotsman, horror covering his face suddenly. Price swear he didn't know a human scream could break the sound barrier till that day. Nor did he know that even medics could be temporarily banned from their station.

One day, dad jokes and bandaids weren't enough for Simon.

"Kid, where's the kid?" Captain Price was yelling as they drug in a large man into the infirmary in full gear. His face obscured from you so you weren't heavily concerned. Soap and Gaz pushed the bed and the masked man into a private care room.

"I'm right here, patching up somebody, old man, grab somebody else with more tim-" You were swiftly cut off at words that shot down your spine.

"Simon's been shot, he only trusts you to pull it out."

"Huh?" You say as you rush over into the private room. Suddenly the masked figure yanked off the balaclava once in the privacy of the room.

"Me shot, you remove, you clean, that clear, kid?" Simon's gruff voice shocked you into reality, you didn't miss the slight teasing tone at the almost neanderthal way he communicated.

"But I've never done this fully by myself-"

"Still only trust you."

"Simon what if I-"

"I'm right here, I'll stop you if it hurts" He said suddenly as he removed his gear and then shed the bloody clothes to reveal the mess of blood on his shoulder where he had been hit. His hand enveloped your wrist. "I promise kid, now can you promise me something?" His voice was calm, levelheaded. But he had a smirk similar to when he was about to tell you a joke.

"Anything"

"Promise me you wont ruin my boyish looks" He smirked. Everyone swore that the sound of a nearby train was actually steam blowing out of the Scotsman's ears.

notes - That’s it!! I hope it was good. I somewhat struggled to directly state the dynamic of Ghost and Reader without making Ghost tooo ooc but I hope I did good!

Requests are open!

Pt.2 is up!

[yesimwriting]

hii 💗

so im currently obsessed with best friend!felix and wanted to request that perhaps their relationship evolves to a point where they’re practically dating but they’re both unaware of it

thank youu

a/n omg you understand them so well

----

There are certain expectations attached to Felix's name, weaved into each syllable like delicate stitches in a tapestry that depicts a family crest. You're not unaware of what the world associates with him, not oblivious enough to lack a general idea of what most assume when they think of being close to someone like him.

People would never guess that the best part of being best friends with Felix are the little things, the small gestures that show how careful he can be when he cares.

The girls you usually sit with in your last class changed so drastically when they saw him on the bench outside of your lecture hall. They whispered and giggled and twirled silky hair around their fingers. It made something in your stomach turn to stone... and you still can't figure out why. You'd be hypocritical to fault them for gossip.

They eventually started chatting about the type of girls someone like him must like. That only made things more awkward when Felix finally spotted you and waved you over. They gaped at you, and with Felix waiting, you weren't given the space needed to stumble through an explanation. The only thing you could manage was a shy 'it's not like that' and a sentence you barely remember that used the word 'friend' way too many times to be structurally sound. It didn't stop them from begging you for details next class before you finally walked away.

Now, in Felix's room, his hand on your shoulder, firm enough to be anchoring, you can't help but compare reality with what they must be imagining. The only details you can offer them are mundane. A fact that only makes you more protective of these moments. They wouldn't get it.

You're convinced no one can, so why take their comments to heart? Even Farleigh, who actually does know Felix tries to twist your friendship into something salacious, something worth gossiping about.

"You're tense." His voice comes out so low you're not sure if you're meant to respond. Felix's thumb traces circles against the top of your shoulder. "You said you had a good day today."

Felix reads your mood with a talent that'd make you uneasy if he was anyone else. "I did." The words feel flat, tired, even though your day was objectively good. You had time to stop for a coffee before class, a TA handed back graded exams and you did better than expected, and you finally finished your essay. "Just Tuesday and Thursday classes."

He nods once empathetically, thumb pressing into your skin. "Tired?"

"Yeah."

The two of you are quiet for a moment. Lulls in conversation have a tendency to make you feel the need to compensate. With Felix, the silence never asks to be rushed through. "Want to rest your eyes for a little?"

This wouldn't be the first time you took a nap in Felix's room. It's not exactly a habit--yet--but it's circling that territory. Sometimes he'll go to sleep with you, other times he'll stay up reading to you.

The offer is irritatingly perfect. You want to say yes, but you--ugh. This is what you get for talking to Farleigh. This is ridiculous. There isn't anything unusual or potentially romantic about your friendship with Felix. You're close, and when it comes to Felix, close is all consuming.

You briefly let your eyes shut. "Sounds nice, but I--I have a lot of homework."

In one movement, he lets his hand slip down your arm and his head fall against your shoulder. "C'mon," his breath is warm against your neck, "I'm tired, too."

The weakness in your resolve makes you like yourself a little less. You swallow, mentally preparing yourself to fight against your fondness. "Out late partying?"

He sighs against you, the sound more amused than it wants to be. "Oh, yeah, Oliver and I were out until the ungodly hour of 11:30." You move your arm, nails brushing a few strands of his hair back into place. "I sleep better when you're here."

Felix is always so warm, it's nearly impossible to not get caught up in it. You almost told him that he could have come over. That the movie you went to see with your roommate had ended around 10:30 and that the only reason you were dismissive when he called is because of what Farleigh had said in the library.

Instead, you settle for running your fingers through his hair. "I told you, Nadia and I went to the movies."

He sighs again, the sound a little sharper this time, almost a huff. A smile tugs at your lips. Felix looks up, half-glaring-half-pouting. "You think it's funny?"

"No," you try, extending the syllable in an attempt to prove your innocence.

Something shifts, you feel it before Felix moves. He straightens, taking his weight off you, likely in an attempt to lull you into a false sense of insecurity. You lean back, resting your weight on one hand. The bit of space you're quick enough to create isn't enough to save you.

Felix leans forward, hand finding the shoulder farthest from him. It's instinct to lean back further in an attempt to duck out from beneath his arm. The move paired with a laugh that makes you lose balance proves to be a mistake. Felix is too tall, too inescapable. His other hand finds your side and you have no choice but to let your back hit the mattress.

He's not pinning you down, but he is hovering in a way that makes you think twice about moving. "Felix." It's meant to come off as threatening, but you're still giggling and it only makes him grin.

"What?" You bravely lift an arm, placing your palm flat on his chest. You will yourself to push him away. He pulls a hand back, giving up trapping you in favor of covering the back of your palm with the front of his. "You started it."

"Doesn't sound like me."

His smile widens. "No?"

He pulls your hand away from him, and for a second, you think he might be ready to release you, but then he presses a kiss to the side of your hand. The warmth of the gesture would normally make you dizzy, but with Farleigh's words ringing in your ears...it's impossible to fully relax.

His eyebrows pinch together, "You okay?"

"Yeah," you hum, "Just tired. Like you said."

He gently sets your hand down. "Y'sure you don't want a nap?"

"No." You're only human. "A nap sounds nice. Just need to use the bathroom first."

Felix squeezes your hand once before shifting onto his back. His absence leaches all the heat from your body. Suddenly, it does feel like a damp autumn day.

You sit up, sock clad feet instinctually slipping into Felix's discarded slippers. They're too large, and you always have to remember to watch your step when you steal them, but they're so plush it's worth the caution.

There's a familiar bundle of fabric thrown over the back of the desk chair. You unzip your jacket. The cold air bites at you as you slip off the thin fabric. You grab Felix's jumper, instinctually pulling it over your head. The material engulfs you in his essence.

You shut the door behind you as you step into his bathroom. Why is something so small getting to you so much? And something that Farleigh, of all people, planted in your head. He likes to twist things until they resemble something entertaining or beneficial. We're just friends. Are you sure?

What kind of a question even is that? Obviously, you'd know if you were dating someone. Obviously, you'd know if you were dating Felix. So of course your answer was a little forced and awkward. Farleigh should have teased you about it. Instead, he looked at you oddly, eyebrows pulled together almost sympathetically, and told you he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen anyone be that close with their friends. Not even Felix.

Okay--don't think about it. What does Farleigh know about genuine, platonic friendships?

You turn on the sink. Splashing some water on your face will he--a bottle of moisturizer and face wash. Spares that you had picked up for Felix to try, go to's for you during impromptu sleepovers.

You force yourself to look up. Your reflection stares back at you, Felix's jumper sliding off your shoulder, exposing the sleeve of your shirt.

You dab water against your face before shutting off the sink. Maybe some sleep will help. You'll take your nap, and then you and Felix will wake up, and you'll see that everything's the same.

Felix is already beneath the sheets when you step out of the bathroom. You walk to the edge of the bed, sliding off his slippers before climbing into bed.

"Darling?" You hum in response before craning your neck to look at him. Felix's gaze is fixed on the ceiling. "Are y--Did something happen?" You freeze. Has Farleigh been telling other people what he told you? Did all of it circle back to Felix in some embarrassing way? "With us, I mean?"

The clarification is too small, too uncertain to fit him. You lift your head. "What?" His attention is still on what's above. "No." With a sigh, you lean forward until your chin's resting on his stomach. "Of course we're fine." He tilts his head slightly, eyes finally landing on yours. Felix is quiet for a moment, taking in your expression. Treating him differently isn't fair. "Do you think we're too close?"

His expression falters, the slight concern behind his eyes morphing into something more closed off. "You--you think we're too close?"

"No." You don't even have to think about it. Maybe that's what bothered you about what Farleigh said. You don't want to think about what should be different because you know you don't want to feel less close to him.

He doesn't ease, and you can't blame him. You place a hand on his side, smoothing your thumb up and down the fabric of his shirt. "I--just--the other day, Farleigh ran into me in the library, and we started talking and he made some comments...." Felix groans. "About how close we were, and at first, it just felt like Farleigh, and then he said a lot of people assume things and--I--"

"Who cares what other people think?" Felix shifts, his fingers tracing patterns against your back. "We're happy with how we are."

You smile, "Yeah." It's probably easy to dismiss opinions and rumors when you're someone like Felix. You decide that it's okay to borrow his worldview. "I am happy."

Felix grins, available hand moving to grab yours. He kisses your palm before placing your hand back on his side. He squeezes your hand against the space between his ribs and hip. "I'm happy, too."

You grin, angling your head downwards to press a kiss against his chest before laying down fully. Felix's knuckles run up and down your back. It's soothing, making everything else disappear long enough to let you fall asleep.

----

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae

i love how much you guys seem to like bestfriend!felix 😭 i have some more requests/fics for him coming,, someone in one of my asks said they weren't sure if i was still taking requests for him and i definitely am,, he's so fun to write for

[castcine]

may the halovian singer of penacony and the healer of the grove of the epiphany of amphoreus request a promo ? !

hii , i'm ellie ! ! i'm very new to editblr and i'm a minor ♡ i'm also a romantic hyacine yume and i ship hyarice ♡ i love making oomfs / moots and i hope i can become a professional graphic designer ! !

𓊆 ♡ 𓊇 taglist ( lmk if you wanna be removed ! ! ) : @rrozeta , @vampiressmaiden , @hauntingmizi , @tomoyaoiichi , @puryne , @hwizou , @selysie , @docele , @lovestis , @nemuurin , @eimimiwq , @jeanryt , @marifilm , @stitched-n-sewn ! !

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

hi! i hope you’re well. I’m back again with a request. i was thinking tan and reader being good friends and both having feelings for eachother. the reader is a nurse so tan often gets fixed up by her after missions. most of the times he comes over at a reasonable time and texts or calls before hand but not this time. he comes over unannounced around midnight scaring the reader awake. after realising it’s tan she’s quick to scold him abt getting injured so badly and being there so late. she gets her medical kit and cleans, bandages and if needed stitches his wounds while he’s sitting on the counter of her bathroom shirtless while she’s checking his wounds basically standing inbetween his legs. after finishing up they realise how close they are to one another. and one thing leads to another and they..?🤭💓

hii honey!! love love it! thank you for requesting, hope you like it. the image is too fitting to pass up💌

TWO AM WAKE-UP CALL.

tangerine x nurse fem!reader — fluff/ misc

word count. 444

warnings. a couple blood mentions

Being a nurse has its perks, of course, like any job. But what you never expected was the amount of irregular visits you'd get from a particular assassin friend of yours.

But tonight was different to most. You were startled awake by erratic knocking at your front door, the loud noise echoing through your place. 

And once you peek through the peephole, you see who is on the other side.

"Fuck," you gasp, looking at Tangerine through the gap of the open door. "What happened?" you ask, looking at his hand clasped over his bicep - blood seeping through his fingers. 

"Stabbed," he says simply, walking past you - heading for your bathroom.

"Oh my god, oh my god," you mutter, closing the door behind you. "Didn't get followed, did you? Oh my god, this is so bad— careful, watch the floor. You're dripping everywhere."

He mutters a 'no', far too agonised, face crumpling up as he pushes the bathroom door open. 

You collect your medical bag and immediately follow after him, joining him in the small room. He was already sitting on the edge of the counter, bloody shirt disregarded in the sink - his helpful self making it easier for you. 

"Sorry, should've called first," he shakes his head, diverting away bashfully. 

You softly hum as you slip on some gloves, visually assessing the slice in his upper arm. "It's okay," you nod, trying to reassure him. "I like being awake at two am cleaning blood," you joke.

Though, Tan doesn't seem impressed with your attempts at lightening the air, instead rather embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," you sympathetically frown at him and turn your attention back to his arm, cleaning the skin around the wound. "I'm kidding, it's okay, really."

He only nods, turning his eyes back to you as he watches you mend him - his focus eager, unbeknownst to you. 

"Thank you," he mutters, gaze still on your face, looking down at you standing between his knees. 

"It's no problem," you momentarily smile up at him and continue wrapping the bandage around his bicep - being mindful, not wanting to hurt him further. "You have to be more careful out there... don't want you dying on me."

"You don't have to worry about me. Not letting that happen," Tangerine reassures, slipping his free hand into yours - pressing a kiss into the latex on the back of it. His head cocks to the side sweetly, looking at you with warmth in his eyes. 

"I just worry about you, that's all."

And without a second to think otherwise, he cups the sides of your face, bringing you in for that much-awaited kiss. 

[hughiecampbelle]

Press Pass (Hughie Campbell/Homelander Oneshot)

Character/s: Hughie, Homelander, Annie, Butcher

Word Count: 1,761

Warning/s: gore, sort of all the basic warnings The Boys typically has

Requested: ive reading some of your works and im in the love! the way you write for characters each distinctly is amazing. i would like to request a fic with the following prompts for hughie: 55) opaque, 17) crime scene & 11) “you say that like it’s a bad thing” :) - anon

Requested: Hii again!! I’m the anon who requested the Homelander fic with prompts Fury, Shooting Stars and “Get away from me” and lemme just say I loveee loveee it!!! The shooting stars part, I did not see that coming and you got Homelander to a tee. Could clearly imagine him looking hurt when reader said get away from me, the desperation in his voice to gain reader’s approval, and then his relief that reader liked what he did. Ugh. I really love it!!! Thank you!!! If it’s not a bother, may I request another? Still platonic Homelander x reader but this time with prompts: Desperate, Wildflowers, “Say something” Again, thank youuu!!! - anon

A/N: I hope you don't mind my loves, I combined your requests! I just got this one idea and it fits so well as one consecutive story. I'm really happy with the way it turned out :D My loves, it makes me so happy that you like my writing! Thank you for the lovely feedback, it means the world! I go back and read it so often it's pathetic lol. I really hope you like it!!!! Feedback is always appreciated!!! 💜💜💜

Requests are open! 🔮

Hughie. . . His name falls from your mouth, dripping down your chin like vomit. Your hands are shaking by your side. You ball them up, nails digging into palms, attempting to steady them. Bile rises in your throat. It takes everything in you to breathe through it, swallow it. Hughie, you say again, louder, before you lose your courage, he knows. They heard you this time, all of them on their feet, collectively staring at what stood before them. The closer they get, the worse it looks. His hands find their way to your skin, turning over your palms and wrists, counting every finger, up you arms. The blood, it’s all yours. Dirt, too. You resembled a crime scene, covered head to toe in red. It was matted in your hair, stuck between your teeth, sticky across your body. As if you had bathed in it. There is no scar tissue, no stitches. That’s the thing about being a Supe: you could be tortured and still, there would be no evidence. Your body had it’s way of pulling itself together seamlessly. Effortlessly. It was dying that was the challenge. Your clothes, what was left of them, were full of holes, burned at the edges. Singed. Scorched. The air felt cold around you, nipping and biting at your skin. He follows the excess of blood from your neck, your head, his lips moving, but the ringing in your ears prevents you from hearing. When he finds no open wounds, no active bleeds, he stops, looking you in the face, speaking slowly. Who, y/n? Who knows? You can’t say his name. You shake your head. It all comes up. I don’t know how he figured it out, I, I was so careful. He was so angry. You were, weren’t you? He holds your shoulders, steadying you, asking you to calm down. Take a deep breath. You do as instructed, gasping for air. They’re all watching you, waiting. He asks again. This time, your voice comes out small, beaten and defeated. Homelander. Homelander knows. 

He made you dig your own grave. The soil was rich and muddy. He’d taken you somewhere secluded, outside of the city. Wildflowers sat at the edges of the woods. In another life, another situation, they would have been pretty. Beautiful, even. So would the trees. Fresh, rainy, it had the potential to be nice. But it wasn’t. He hands you a shovel and tells you to start digging. Your shoulder had been broken. Your jaw dislocated. One of your eyes had been swollen shut, bruised and sore. Your lip busted. Your tongue poked at all the empty sockets, instinctively, childishly. Somewhere in Vought Tower your teeth sat scattered across the floor. Would he keep them? You’re not sure how long it took, only that he was growing impatient, bored, sour. The sun was setting. He’d go back and forth, yelling and screaming and berating to complete silence. You’re not sure which unsettled you more. You did the best you could given the circumstances, using your non-dominant hand. The other had been crushed, placed protectively at your side. This would only end one way, you both knew this. You betrayed him. He trusted you and you decimated that relationship. Now you would pay for it. Broken bones, broken blood vessels, that was nothing. He wanted your life. He wanted to rid the world of someone who didn’t deserve to take another breath. You wondered if he knew what would happen next. You wondered if he’d known all along or if it would be another sick, twisted surprise. What would he do then? 

You’d used your press pass all those years ago. You were fresh out of school and just starting out. You were excited, elated, a rookie. It had been Starlight you’d intended to interview, one of a million reporters at the time of her debut. She picked you, and a few others, out of the crowd. Annie admitted later she liked you instantly. You were nervous and young, and it made her feel better about also being nervous and young. You weren’t arrogant or jaded, you were genuinely interested in her story, her upbringing, in her. You asked questions the others never would have thought of. They were so used to writing the same stories, the same angles. You had a new perspective. You’d laughed, called it inexperience, but she disagreed. You were good at your job from the start. Homelander took notice of you instantly. He’d grown tiresome of his team of yes men. They were old, and boring, and lost their flare. You made Starlight look good: cute, innocent, hopeful, yet powerful. Everything anyone could have wanted from a new member of The Seven. He requested your presence not long after at a meeting. Truth be told, he liked you for more than just your writing. You were attractive, intelligent, had working. All American. Working your way up the ladder, the ranks. There was something enticing about that. You were ecstatic. Homelander asking for you, requesting you personally? Annie had been wary, wanting to warn you, unsure of how to say it without giving away too much. In the end she said nothing and regretted it instantly. 

Say something. There was something desperate in his voice, a kind of begging. Look at me, he spat. You had to turn your head to look at him, your bad eye completely shut. Say. Something. He says again through grit teeth. I’m sorry, John. You hadn’t expected it, an apology, and neither had he. He takes a step back, reacting as if you’d slapped him. Struck him. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, you follow up, and you meant every word. You joined his team not long after. You were writing most of the pieces about him. He liked the pictures you painted, made him heroic, self-sacrificing, patriotic. You were insightful, smart but not arrogant, driven. You wouldn’t publish anything until it was perfect, until you were satisfied. You and him, you’d become friends. Or, at least, as close to friends as he could get. He made sure never to show you the other sides of him, instead he played a particular role quite well. He’d fooled you. He’d fool everyone. His intentions opaque, impenetrable. You never could have known, could you? And then Starlight left. That was the beginning of the end. She asked you to meet with her one night, sent you coordinates. You’d grown close to her, too. But she’d never let you in on what was really happening. If she did, she'd have been putting you in danger. Too late, you think to yourself now, half-laughing, half-mocking. That’s when you met them, The Boys. that’s when they told you everything. You were horrified, sick to your stomach, angry. Annie was so sorry, so incredibly sorry, but it was better that you didn’t know. Why would you tell me now? What, what am I supposed to do with all this? Your tone was accusing, hysterical. Butcher was straightforward, calm, collected. You’re going to help us take him down. 

You wanted to do your job and be good at it. That was all. You think back. Anything could have prevented this moment. Annie could have chosen someone else. You could have declined Homelander's offer. Perhaps it was earlier than that. You could have never been given Compound V in the first place. You’d never disclosed that you were a Super. Your abilities weren’t flashy, they were self-serving. One dimensional. You could come back from the dead. Sometimes it was instant. Other times, it took a little longer. All depended on the damage. Your injuries were extensive, bringing tears to your eyes with every breath, every move. You could still get hurt. You could still die. You just came back as if nothing had happened. No one at Vought, or work, or school had ever known. You’d only told The Boys out of necessity: you couldn’t let them think you were one and done. You’d come back eventually. It would save you, yes, but it would make things so much worse. If Homelander ever found out, if he didn’t know already, he’d make sure you suffered far worse than you already were. You’d have to go into hiding. Play dead. At least, for a little while. He had you stop, standing before him. He looked you up and down, his features contorting. You disgust me. And with that, the final bow, his eyes lit up red. Severed you in half, hip to hip. Then again, through your neck, decapitating you instantly.  You’re okay, Hughie says again. The first time you must not have heard him. You say that like it’s a bad thing. You’re only slightly amused. Mostly though, you were tired. There are no marks, no sign of a fight. It’s as if the night never even happened. And yet, you couldn’t get the feeling out of your head: the blinding sensation, it severed through your skin, your muscles and bones. Coming apart like that so easily, like you meant nothing, like your body was putty, malleable. His play thing. You’re not sure how you could shake it. He’d kicked your severed body into the hole, piling dirt on top. Hours passed. It was getting dark, and then, suddenly, it was morning. As if you’d gone to sleep. You clawed your way out, choking up dirt and blood. Your teeth had grown back. You were in one piece. Hughie brought you home, ran a bath. He helped you undress. You explained the best you could, but your words fell fragmented, in half-sentences. He didn’t push the subject. You faced Homelander and you lived to tell the tale. That was enough. You were sure the others were coming up with a plan, some sort of act of protection, but you didn’t really care. It was too much to think about, too much to care. Coming back was always a big feat. You’d sleep for days if you could. The water was losing its warmth. It was pink, gory and humane and smelling like metal. It mixed with your coconut soap. Homelander knew who you were involved with. He knew you had enough dirt and secrets on him to ruin him. He’d find you again. He’d torture you again, and kill, and kill, and kill again. You wanted to talk to him, even now. He hated you, but he was also your friend. Instead you let yourself sink deeper, listening to Hughie's promises, trying not to flinch.

[samanthalanetextiles]

she/her cross stitch pattern 🏳️‍⚧️

hii, welcome to my blog!! my name is samantha (she/her) and I'm a textile artist who loves all-things cross stitch and crochet. I recently decided to start selling my own cross stitch patterns online as I want to share my crafting skills with the world! pictured is a cross stitch pattern I designed to post online when I came out as a transgender woman. click the link to find the pattern on my etsy shop, where you'll also find more queer cross stitch pattern designs!!

I'm also a fiber jewellery artist and create conceptual crochet wearable art, so be prepared to see lots of squishy and playful textile jewels and objects on this blog!! you'll also see crafting experiments and other crochet projects i'm working on.

I'm always looking for more crafting friends, so feel free to DM if you wanna talk about anything textile crafts related! especially if you're queer/trans!!

thank you for reading and I hope you have a fabulous day!! 🏳️‍⚧️✨

She/her Pronouns Hearts Cross Stitch Pattern Transgender Cross Stitch LGBT Cross Stitch Transfem Cross Stitch Transgender Woman - Etsy UK

[rosesradio]

hi friend!! sorry I haven't been active much, my wifi is busted. I wonder if you noticed? anyway if I'm not too late pls do the ship game with jasico!!! I'd ask for all if I could lol but you can just do whichever ones you personally wanna do

hii friend !! sorry about your wifi—i did notice you were off for a little while, i just figured you were busy with adult stuff (as i have been, hence answering this two days late 🥲) but i missed you and i’m glad you’re back !! 💌

as for the ship asks with jasico 👉👈

3.) who cooks and who cleans?

i think jason would cook and nico would clean. neither of them are initially that good at cooking due to their upbringings, but jason is more keen to learn and gets better at it quicker. he would also have an apron that says “kiss the cook” that he loves and nico rolls his eyes at (he loves it too <3)

and when nico cleans he has a maid outfit—(gunshots)

4.) where/how do they live? (together/seperate)

they would definitely live together, though i think they’d be a separate bed/bedroom couple. they just like having their own space to retreat to (especially nico), but more often than not nico ends up crawling into jason’s bed for cuddles anyway. i also think they’d fall asleep on the couch together, nico sleeping on jason’s chest and jason frozen not wanting to move 🥺💌

5.) biggest in-universe supporter of the ship?

percy 100%. he’s happy for his bro (jercy bromance go brr) and he’s glad nico found someone. he does do this bit where he claims he got them together whenever they meet someone new though (he didn’t) (or maybe he did a little depending 👀)

6.) who confessed first?

jason confessed first, but/or nico kissed jason first. big fan of that in any nico ship of mine lol (*cough* ceaseless eve *cough*). i just think jason would be more forward verbally/emotionally, but he would leave it to nico to make the first move physically

9.) PDA, yes or no?

you wouldn’t even think they’re in a relationship, they don’t do PDA. that is, until jason breaks and wraps his arms around nico from behind and rests his head on top of his. he can’t help it sometimes, though nico doesn’t mind as long as it’s rare (in private, though, they’re curled up together like cats)

15.) what’s something they love to do together?

i think they’d be that couple that picks up hobbies like puzzles or cross stitch, and they can just work on their little crafts in separate areas in silence as long as they’re together 💌

(also extra hc that, before they started dating, jason made nico a friendship bracelet fully expecting him to throw it out/hide it. when he saw him wearing it, though, he got so excited he made him more than he could wear 🥹💌)

[foern]

hii!! how are you doing?? this is my first time so i applogize if i lack of details/u have a hard time understanding this. May i request for Tokyo Revengers (Mitsuya, Draken, Rindou) where they compliment or just appreciates s/o but she just cries when she heard ut? she kinda barely got attention and praises like that so it kind of melts her heart

they can be like normally say "im so grateful for you" "ur so pretty", but s/o just cries as a response HAHDHSJA I wanna know what theyd do or react, if thats okay ofc! i apologize if im dosturbing your time, i hope u have a great day!

~😻

Anon tysm for this request! I had a lot of fun writing it! I haven’t really read the Manga, so I don’t think I know enough about Rindou to write for him. I replaced him with Mikey, I hope that's okay!

Sorry this id kind of short and took forever, ive been super busy (literally moved to another continent). Anyway, hope you like it!

———————————————————————

Mikey

Mikey’s eyes followed you as you busied yourself in the kitchen, grabbing ingredients to prepare breakfast for the two of you—bacon and eggs. Distracted, you cracked an egg into the hot pan, oblivious to Mikey’s intense gaze. The morning sun streamed through the windows, casting a radiant glow on everything it touched, including you. With messy hair from sleep, clad in Mikey’s sweatshirt, and a bare face, you looked absolutely stunning.

“You’re so pretty.” Your gaze swiftly met the blonde-haired boy's; his eyes sparkled, and a warm, admiring smile graced his lips. There was no doubt in the world that he was anything but sincere.

“Don’t be stupid.” You mumble, an obvious blush creeping its way onto your cheeks. Truth be told, you felt completely hideous that day. Your hair was an unbrushed mess, you had no makeup on, and you were still in your pajamas. A wave of insecurity washed over you; a heavy weight settled itself on your chest. As tears welled up in your eyes you turned back to the eggs, unwilling to let Mikey see you cry.

“Hey, hey, hey, why the tears?” Mikey stands up from his chair and steps in front of me. He rests his hand on my waist, rubbing soothing circles into my skin. The words catch in my throat, making it impossible to articulate the emotions flooding over me. Truth be told, I don't even know why I'm crying. His free hand gently lifts my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"You're beautiful," he reassures, his thumb moving from my chin to caress my lip, "Especially when you're making me breakfast."

——————————————————————

Mitsuya

I delicately run my fingers across the luxurious texture of my dress, savoring the sensation of the soft fabric across my skin. My gaze takes in every detail of the meticulously crafted garment—each stitch, every contour, a testament to its thoughtful design. A nervous smile graces my lips as I turn to meet Takashi’s gaze.

“What do you think?” I ask, my voice carrying a mix of anticipation and vulnerability. A faint blush creeps over my face as I catch him admiring my silhouette. His response, a simple yet sincere "You look absolutely stunning," sends a rush of warmth through me.

His bluntness catches me off guard for a moment. I never really grew up receiving compliments, so even now, they have the power to surprise me. A warm weight settles into my chest as an unexpected wave of emotion washes over me. The confident smile I wore earlier fades, replaced by a genuine, slightly flustered one. Rising from his chair, he makes his way towards me.

As he stands before me, placing a hand gently on my hip and the other softly on my cheek, I can't help but marvel at the tenderness in his touch. I hadn't realized a tear was rolling down my face until he wiped it away with his thumb. My heart melts at this action, his eyes never leaving mine. His unwavering, concerned gaze causes my tears to flow more steadily.

“You mean it?” I manage to utter, my voice carrying a mix of disbelief and gratitude. I honestly don’t know why I’m crying, but in this moment, none of that matters. He shakes his head with a reassuring nod. His hand guides me into a comforting hug, the type you never want to leave. “Of course, but I don’t know why you’re crying though. I think it means I should just compliment you more often.”

[mathysphere]

Hii hope I'm not annoying. Are you ever going to release the full pi day pattern and evolution the different systems? I had a lot of fun stitching it, but I haven't figured out all the numeral systems yet, and honestly I don't know what id search for to find them, ahah.

Oh snap, yes! And, not annoying in the slightest-- sorry, I meant to have that up ages ago. I'll try and get it together in the next couple days. :)

[barbwritesstuff]

hii Barb, I wanted to ask about save importing from Blood Moon- do you have a timeline in mind for when that would be available? like, when Blood Moon will have the save function at the end? i really want to replay it but with as much progress as you've made with Thicker Than (which I'm still amazed by) I was thinking I might wait so I can have proper game states to import once it comes out

I won't be able to stitch the two games together until pretty much right before it comes out. I'm sorry. You can currently manually input all choices in Blood Moon that have an effect on Thicker Than.

[sualne]

Hii, I just found your ao3 and I read all the one piece Vampire au! And I love it!!! It's really good and I'm so invested on how luffy is doing that I'm thinking of going back and reading it again to scratch the itch haha.

I have a question though! Luffy's issue with stairs. What's up with that? My first language isn't English, so maybe I missed something, but I don't get it? Is it because he's too uncoordinated to go upstairs? Because I think he wouldn't have issues going down if he maybe sat down on the stairs and dragged himself down one step at a time(?) Idk.

Or maybe it's something vampire-related? Like those old stories of vampires not being able to do some things? (Like the one where they can't NOT stop and count every grain of you throw a lot on the ground? I think that was a thing I read once?)

Idk! I love the story so far!

(And I'm surprised you like to cut off Law's arm so much! (In this au and the mimic one too, I think? Do you have any more where you torture my poor boy?) Two times could be a coincidence, but It won't be if you makea third one haha)

oh that make me so happy thanks for telling me, i'm glad you like it!!! o(TヘTo)

it's because of his coordination issues from not being able to tell where his limbs ends and starts, if they actually touch anything, how much weight (which he can't feel either!) he can balance safely without falling, a constant state of vertigo ect And also because his vision is often overlayered with mingo's too, all of that combined make things like walking up the stairs a nightmare.

(i got really scared catching up seeing law's arm being cut off, then hearing his scream, i hadn't been worried about anything at all before that, just enjoying seeing my favorite Going Through It, because i knew he was alive in the later arcs. but seeing his arm on the floor i panicked and tried to remember if he had both arms or not in any of the images i'd seen and i couldn't for the life of me remember if he had one or both. i was really disappointed that he just stitched it back like that so im taking it away here and there. I'm always torturing him, it comes free with being written by me).

even drew this as i was catching up: