#for the love of everything holy somebody help me out here

[djappleblush]

I have fallen deep into the Dramione rabbit hole and I suddenly have this humongous desire to write a story about them but I don't know how to write them because I haven't finished the Harry Potter movies nor read the Harry Potter books so I don't even know where to fvcking start!

Unless you people took pity on me and tell me all about Hermione and Draco's characteristics, please, I beg.

[atinylittlepain]

ok so given that the oscars just happened, imagine a joel x actress!reader. before everything went to shit joel was a normal human being who loved watching movies and like any basic person had a celebrity crush. fast forward and the world has gone to shit and joel and ellie (and maybe tommy too) go on a patrol that goes wrong and get saved by miss “i just smashed a guys head in with my oscar” or something like that, just a fluff and fun imagine that isnt gonna break my heart in a million pieces like last nights episode

oh my god, your mindddddd - I love this idea :)

Big Fan

Joel Miller x actress!reader

Joel Miller masterlist

Joel recognizes her right away. After all, she starred in his favorite movie of all time.

warnings | 18+ a little angst, nothing wild, this is fluff through and through

Read part two!

.......................

“Are you–”

“I am.”

“You were in–”

“I was.”

“Well I’ll be damned.�� 

“Alright, somebody better start speaking in full sentences, because I have no clue what the hell is going on.” Joel huffs, glancing at Ellie who's looking at him like he’s gone crazy, her gun still cocked at the woman in front of them.

“What? You don’t recognize her, kid? I just showed you Curtis and Viper.” Ellie’s brow furrows, but then she looks back at the woman and her eyes finally widen in recognition.

“Holy shit.” The woman laughs, eyes still focused on the barrel of Ellie’s gun.

“That’s not usually the movie people recognize me from. But I suppose it was my big break.” Joel nudges Ellie, muttering for her to put her “damn gun away, jesus christ,” and she quickly tucks it back in her belt.

He’s trying to not be weird right now, they did just kill five clickers together, but he’s finding it hard not to lose his cool over the woman who had been a silly crush of his since he first saw that cheap action movie as a teenager. He knows she did much better films afterward, remembers hovering behind the couch one night while Sarah was watching one of those awards shows, lingering just a bit longer when he saw her giving an acceptance speech with a blinding smile in a dress that probably cost more than his house. She’s certainly less elegant-looking now, but even after twenty years in a world like this, he can’t help the quick kick of his heart at actually meeting this woman in the flesh.

He clears his throat, also trying to clear his mind.

“Are you alone?” She sighs, wiping the blade of her knife on her jeans before sliding it back into its sheath.

“I wasn’t, and then I was. We were headed toward a settlement we heard about, I think a bit further north from here?” Joel keeps his expression steady, but can feel Ellie glancing at him. Movie star or not, he knows they have to be careful about who finds out about Jackson. But apparently, this woman isn’t just pretty, and she seems to pick up on the heavy pause after what she said.

“Do you two know about the place I’m talking about? Are we close?” Joel, sighs, looking at Ellie before making a decision that Tommy is probably going to smack him for later.

“We, um– we’re from there, actually. If you’re talking about where I think you’re talking about.” She huffs out a laugh, and offers them that megawatt smile Joel remembers seeing on his TV screen. Ellie, meanwhile, scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest as she glares at Joel.

“No shit. Do you think you have room for one more?” Joel’s eyes dart once more to Ellie, just seeing the subtle shake of her head, but he chooses to ignore it. How could he say no to the woman who had, embarrassingly, been one of his first wet dreams?

“You’ll have to talk with my brother, but I’m sure you’ll be welcome to stay on.” Megawatt, megawatt, megawatt. He reckons that smile could melt steel beams.

…

“Joel, what the fuck–”

“Ellie–”

“No, what are you thinking? If not Tommy, Maria’s gonna be so pissed she’ll probably cut your balls off.” He shushes the girl, glancing ahead at the woman hiking further in front of them.

“Look, she’s all alone– hardly a threat– and she’s looking for somewhere to stay–” She scoffs.

“Oh, so this has nothing to do with the way your eyeballs practically popped out of your head just looking at her?” He grumbles, hand tightening around the strap of his rifle.

“You just mind your own business, alright? I’ll take care of it.” Ellie huffs, starting to trudge further ahead of him, but not before muttering out “whatever you say, fanboy.” Joel is stunned still by her words.

“Where the hell did you get that word from?” She turns on her heel, walking backwards for a beat as she smirks at him.

“One of those old magazines. Pretty sure she was on the front page if you wanna borrow it.” Before he can get a word in edgewise, she’s already turning back around and continuing their hike back to Jackson.

…

“Holy shit. Joel, look who it is!” Joel grunts, nudging Tommy out of his starstruck stupor.

“Yeah, I know. Just hiked five miles with her.” Tommy laughs, slapping him on the back before grinning at her.

“It’s real nice to meet you. You know, Joel here had your poster on his bedroom wall–” The nudge he gives his brother this time is a little less friendly, causing Tommy to grumble and rub his arm. She, however, takes it in stride, laughing lightly as she shifts in her boots.

“I’m flattered, really. It’s, um, it’s nice to meet you, Tommy.” Tommy’s eyes go wide.

“I can’t believe you just said my name. This is crazy–”

“Tommy.” Joel cuts his brother off with a hard look before he embarrasses himself anymore. He clears his throat, seeming to get a hold of himself as Joel continues.

“She had been traveling with a group, looking for this place. She’s the only one left though. Was hoping to join the town.” Tommy grins again, glancing between her and Joel.

“Well, I’m sure we can make that happen. I think Joel would kill me if I didn’t let–” He squeezes Tommy’s shoulder hard, willing him to shut his mouth. 

“That little house next to ours is still empty. Why don’t we set her up there?” Tommy’s smile at his brother’s words is all too smug for Joel’s taste, but he still nods, turning his attention back to her.

“If that’s alright with you, ma’am. I’ll let the folks know to turn the gas and electric back on for that place.” She smiles brightly at that.

“That would be amazing. Thank you so much. I owe you all big time.” Tommy snorts.

“I’m pretty sure you can pay Joel back with an autograph, he’d probably cre—“ Joel’s heard enough, resorting to kicking Tommy in the ankle to shut him up. Ellie huffs from where she’s watching their pathetic display.

“Alright, well if you two freaks are done making fools of yourselves, I’ll show her over to that house.” 

…

When Joel gets home, the first thing he does is look at that DVD. He had found it a week or two ago on a patrol shift, left in a hollowed-out RV. Ellie was less than impressed and Maria refused to show it at movie night because it’s so gory, but he held onto it anyways. He can still remember going to see it in the theater with Tommy, both of them too young to get in if not for their friend working the ticket booth. He flips the case over in his hands, and sure enough, there she is on the back cover, looking impossibly beautiful while firing a machine gun. What’s not to like, right?

He’s broken out of his revelry by the sound of the front door opening, and soon enough, Ellie is stomping up the stairs to come looking for him. When she finds him in his bedroom, sitting on the end of his bed, she glances at the DVD he’s holding, a grin spreading over her face.

“Just like you remember, huh, old man?” He grumbles, getting up to set the movie back on the bookshelf before turning back to Ellie.

“She settling in alright?” She hums, nodding lightly.

“Yep, made a beeline for a shower. Told me to thank you. I told her you’d be coming around for your autograph later.” His face crumples in indignation while Ellie lets out a cackle.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. But in all seriousness, I think she’s interested– in you– which pains me to even say, but, I figure you deserve to know that the woman of your pubescent dreams was asking questions about you.” Joel’s jaw goes slack, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead.

“She– she was asking about me?” Ellie nods around a smirk.

“Mmhmm. And I told her you’re a grumpy old bum who doesn’t take kindly to strangers.” He huffs, but she laughs again.

“Sorry, kidding again. I didn’t tell her much. Just that you’ll be around. But if I were you, I’d “be around” sooner rather than later, before the rest of Jackson gets a piece of her. Snatch her up before there’s sweeter bait to bite down on, you know?” He thinks briefly that he needs to see just what sort of magazines this kid is reading, because he can’t quite believe what’s coming out of her mouth. He grumbles, shaking his head at her antics.

“There ain’t gonna be any snatching going on. Just mind your–” She huffs, already walking out of his room.

“Mind my business, yeah, yeah, I know. But think about what I said, old man. Better cast your line quick for this one. My guess is you weren’t the only one who had her poster in your bedroom back before.” 

He’s not letting that kid read magazines anymore.

…

When he steps out on his porch later in the afternoon, fully intent on what Ellie has affectionately started calling his “adult nap time,” he’s interrupted by someone calling his name. He catches sight of her sitting on the porch of the little house next door, waving and smiling at him like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“Hey, neighbor.” He tentatively waves back, but that doesn’t seem to satisfy her as she motions for him to join her. He sighs, rather stiffly walking over to her porch and joining her on the bench seat, keeping a very respectable distance between them. Clickers, raiders, general imminent danger, he can handle. Pretty lady? That’s touchy. Pretty lady who he imagined marrying as a teenager? Just put him out of his misery already. He knows it’s ridiculous, that none of that matters now. She’s just as worn and weathered as the rest of them by this crumbled world. But that smile she keeps flashing him might just bring him to his knees.

“I wanted to thank you– for bringing me along. I was, uh, starting to lose hope back there a little bit.” He nods, glancing at her.

“No need for thanks. Just the right thing to do in this world. I’m sorry– about your group. I don’t know what happened, but that couldn’t have been easy being out there on your own.” She shrugs, waving off his sentiment.

“It was barely a group to begin with. Just some folks who happened to get out of the San Francisco QZ together.” His brain is quickly trying to knit together the movie star he remembers from the past and this woman who sits before him now, an obvious edge to her.

“Were you in California? Back when everything…” She nods, her face set in a grim look.

“LA, where else? Now that was a nightmare. I bet the only worse place to be when everything went down was New York. Bodies everywhere. Don’t think I’ll ever forget it.” She lets out a humorless laugh before glancing at him.

“That movie you like so much? I remember when I got the role, I had no idea how I was gonna pull it off. Grizzled heroine with a dark past and a penchant for violence. I was nothing like her. But now, I feel a whole lot more like her and a whole lot less like me.” She sighs, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I dumped that on you.” Joel is quick to shake his head, leaning over his thighs to catch her gaze.

“No, no. I get it– in my own way, I guess. The world changed and– we had to change with it.” That coaxes a crooked smile out of her as she looks at him. A simple silence descends between them as they share quiet smiles. She finally giggles, scrunching her nose at him.

“That girl– Ellie? I think she said something about you wanting an autograph?” Joel can feel the hot blush creeping up his neck as his face goes slack. She just splits out in a laugh, tipping her head back in delight.

“I’m sorry, I’m kidding. But, you know, what I went by, what people still call me, that isn’t my real name.” Joel’s eyebrows quirk up and she sighs, shaking her head.

“Just a stage name. I don’t really mind people calling me that, but can I tell you my real name?” He can feel the smile tugging at his mouth as he nods. Before he knows what she’s doing, she’s taking his hand into her lap, slowly tracing out her name with her finger across his palm. An autograph, of sorts. He’s pretty sure his brain short-circuits, just barely stringing together her name as she finishes. He murmurs it lowly and she offers him her brightest smile yet, still holding his hand lightly in her own.

“And you’re Joel, right?” He’s only a little embarrassed by how quickly he nods.

“Mmhmm. Miller– Joel Miller, yep.” She lets out a breathy laugh, now clasping his hand in a firm shake.

“It’s nice to really meet you, Joel Miller.” 

[vivwritesfics]

Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Fifteen - Olivia's Better Birthday

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

1.5K

Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

Series Masterlist

Daniels backyard was transformed. It was every little girls dream. There was a huge banner tied to the fence which read 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY BADGER' in big bubbly letters.

Daniel had everything. There were two ponies in the corner, giving kids rides across the garden. There was a bouncy castle, a ball pit, one of those inflatable slides, every kind of food you could imagine and balloons everywhere.

"Wow," Y/N gasped as she put Milo on the floor. He immediately took off, running towards Olivia.

"You made it!" Called Daniel as he strode towards her, arms out stretched.

She fell into them. "I wouldn't miss it for the world," she said as Daniel squeezed her.

"Come on," he said as he grabbed her hand and pulled her into the house. Y/N looked around for Milo as she allowed herself to be pulled along, but he was too busy playing with Olivia.

Daniel pulled her into the kitchen. On top of the kitchen counter was a wide yet not very tall box. Unable to keep the grin from his face, Daniel pulled open the box, revealing Olivia's birthday cake. "Holy shit," she couldn't stop herself from whispering as she looked at the cake.

It was a Red Bull F1 car, that much was clear. It had the normal sponsors and a red number six on it. Smaller sponsors were things like Olivia's name and 'Olivia's sixth birthday' in small, golden writing. Inside of the F1 car, in the drivers seat, was a badger.

Y/N looked at Daniel. "She's gonna love it," she said as he placed the lid back onto the box, keeping it safe.

"This might be my proudest moment as a dad," he said and walked with her back out to the garden. "Now that you guys are here, we can actually start," he said as he opened the door for her.

"You waited for us?" She asked, unable to stop smiling. "You really didn't have to."

"Oh, I did," Daniel said. He led her to the other adults in the garden and abandoned her to go and stand in front of everybody. He clapped his hands and most eyes turned to him. "Hi everybody," Daniel called, his voice booming across the garden. "Thank you all for coming to Olivia's birthday party. We have games and pony rides and feel free to help yourselves to drinks. Parents we have drinks in the kitchen," he said and stepped away.

He made his way back over to the parents and joined Y/N at her side. "Can I get you something to drink?" He offered her.

"Danny, I need to drive Milo and I home," she said as he placed his arms around her.

But he shook his head. "Stay here with me," he said. "Milo and Olivia can have a sleepover and you and I can have a sleepover," he said quietly.

That was just a little too tempting. "One, just one," she said to him and Daniel disappeared back into the house.

Y/N looked around at the other parents and adults. Most of them she recognised from the daycare car park, some of them she recognised as Daniel's friend. "Hey!" Somebody called as they walked towards her. "Y/N, right?"

It took her a moment to recognise who was talking to her. "Hey Max!" She called as they greeted each other with a friendly, welcoming hug. "How have you been?"

When Daniel came out of the kitchen with drinks for him and Y/N in hand, she was talking to Max, who was introducing her to those she hadn't met yet. Almost all of the grid was there, introducing themselves and chatting animatedly. The only one missing was Charles, but Olivia was forcing him down the slide with her.

Lando spotted Daniel. He grinned at him and Y/N turned around. "Thank you, Danny," she said and took the drink from him. Daniel immediately put his arms over her shoulders pulling her into him as they continued to chat with his friends.

The other drivers smirked at each other. They already looked like a couple, and they all knew it wouldn't be long until were one.

A few hours into the party, it was time to bring out the cake. Max held Olivia on his hip as Daniel brought out the cake. "Uncle Max it looks like your car!" She called while everybody sang happy birthday to her.

She blew out the candles on the cake and a few of the drivers, including Daniel, formed an assembly line to get a piece of cake to everybody. Whatever was left over went into party bags, with Daniel leaving a wheel aside.

Music played and the kids danced around. Parents still stood and chatted, but Y/N and Daniel were behind them, gently swaying. Nobody could see them, they thought. But they wouldn't have cared if they could.

"Olivia made this playlist," Daniel said, Y/N tucked against his chest as a song from a disney movie came to an end. "She pretty much planned this entire party."

She looked up, not moving her head from his chest. "She's done brilliantly," she said as she looked around. It really was a spectacular party. She only wished she could give Milo something this grand.

Suddenly, a Taylor Swift song began playing. Y/N's eyebrows were furrowed as she looked up at a grinning Daniel. "This one isn't Olivia's music, is it?"

Daniel couldn't stop himself from laughing as he and Y/N began moving faster. "I'm a swifty," he confessed and Y/N just laughed with him.

"So, if I was in a room with Taylor, who are you choosing?" She asked, but the grin on her face showed she wasn't serious.

Daniel grabbed a hold of her chin and tipped her face towards his. "You every time," he said and kissed her.

After the cake the party was only an hour longer. He passed party bags out to parents as they grabbed their kids and started making their way out.

Y/N began clearing things up as Daniel said goodbye to everyone. He took a little bit longer saying goodbye to his fellow drivers, who wanted a moment to ask about Y/N. But he waved them off, wanting them to leave so he could have time with her.

As the slide, bouncy castle and ball pit were packed up, the ponies were put back into the trailer. Before the owner put them away, he gave Milo and Olivia a treat each to give to the horses. They were squealing as they walked away.

Once she had picked up as much rubbish as she could, Y/N started salvaging what food was leftover. She brought it into the kitchen as Daniel brought Milo and Olivia inside.

As soon as the party was cleaned up Y/N and Daniel worked on getting the kids ready for bed. Milo wore the clothes he had from the last time he had slept over. Olivia still wore her birthday crown once she was ready for bed.

But they didn't go to bed right away. Putting a few snacks from the party into a bowl, Y/N and Daniel sat with in the living room with the kids. Olivia and Milo shared the food, eyes fixed on the television, as Y/N cuddled up to Daniel.

"Today was amazing," she whispered as she laid against his chest. "You're a brilliant dad."

Daniel kissed the top of her head.

As soon as the movie was finished, they got the kids up to bed. Y/N kissed the top of Milo's head and tucked him in. He and Olivia were exhausted after the party. They were so happy, but so exhausted. "Momma," Milo said through a yawn. "Do you think I can have a party like Olivia's?"

Y/N stroked through Milo's hair. "I'll try, Munchkin," she whispered. They said a final good night and Y/N walked out of the room, leaving him to get some sleep.

She showered and got changed into the oversized shirt Daniel had provided for her. When she was done she returned to Daniels bedroom, where he was already ready for bed. She grinned as she wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek. "We haven't even had our third date yet. Are you sure this is appropriate?"

Daniel pretended to think about it. His hand was on her arm, finding any excuse to touch her. "Want to debate it over cake?"

That was how they found themselves in the kitchen, once again sat on the floor as they shared the circular piece of cake between them. "It's a soft tyre," Daniel explained as Y/N dug her fork into the black fondant. "You can tell by the red on it," he said.

Y/N licked her fork. "So what does a soft tyre mean?" She asked, and Daniel was only too happy to explain.

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @cassie0sstuff @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @aundercover @lou-bean28 @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1 @layazul @phantomxoxo @minkyungseokie @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lillians-world-is-f1 @cixrosie @notyouraveragemochii @charli123456789 @amalialeclerc @teamnovalak @tallrock35 @teenwolf01 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal @leptitlu @angiesw0rld @yunakynn @landosgirlxoxo @msolbesg @cherry-piee @catmouseggy @bathedinheat @chanshintien @ilove-tswizzle @woozarts @evie-119 @trouble-sistar @mysticalnightenthusiast @lewisvinga @spilled-coffee-cup @starkeyellow @fxrmuladaydreams @viennakarma @radiator101 @lightdragonrayne @angelxxrose @millinorrizz @xemiefx @ellies-world61 @the-depressed-fellow

[emmg]

Hello love Can I ask for Raphael x reader where Raph actually shows love, buuut in his own twisted way? One of my fam members had autism and he never ever said those three words, but showed it in acts of service and paying attention to what you say/do aaand i was thinking about Raphael who tries to show how much he loves her(or them) but well he's not very good at this. Tav reading book- he will read it too, because he cares...just to tell her how much it sucks. She's bleeding after a fight? Throws her into his healing pool and tell her how stupid she is for the whole time he's with her and how she wastes his time, but won't leave her alone, because what if this dumb mortal drowns herself? A guy said something to her and she felt like sh*t or he touched her to make her uncomfortable? He would give her a very fancy box with big bow and smiles innocently at her ; 'Come on little mouse..open it' just for her to see somebodys hand or head 'oh..this? its this creep from yesterday' Tav wears something cheap? oh boy he would tell her everythink he thinks about this rag. She thinks he wants her to wear only expensive things, because how she looks=his reputation but the truth is he thinks she deserves only the most lavish things in her life and he wont allow her to live below HIS standards And his fav way of showing love is giving her mortal who hurt her in any way already beaten so they wont demage his precious possesion, but conscious enough so she can enjoy torturing them (for sure he does it for his own amusement more than hers)

What a fun prompt! Although, to be fair, I can't exactly make it totally healthy because Raphael isn't an emotionally healthy person to be in a relationship with so this is still a little bit dark, though definitely not awful haha.

ETA: ah crap I missed the part about x reader. So sorry about that. In my defence, I truly cannot write from second person point of view. I’m very, very sorry anon. I’ve tried before and it feels awkward to me and everything comes out… bad.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Sometimes she feels hollowed out, as if something essential has been scooped clean from within her. She’s not sure why she stays—or even if she’s staying at all. Maybe he’s holding her here, maybe she has no choice, maybe she lost that freedom long ago. Because you don’t walk away when Raphael is speaking; you don’t walk away when he’s watching you. And his eyes are always on her, always, always, always following.

That gaze—it leaves her feeling half trapped, half sanctified, as though caught in some dreadful, holy spell. He doesn’t look at others this way, she knows that, but that knowledge only tightens the hold, winds the snare around her. It’s nothing, she tells herself—this attention, his careful watch—yet it feels like everything, a binding without words, a noose drawing tighter, a claw sinking deeper. Time twists strangely when he’s near, spiraling into something she can’t name, and she can’t help but wonder: will his interest wane, fade away to nothing? Or will it sharpen, tighten, until it consumes her, leaving her breathless, until there’s no space left at all? 

If it does—if he closes around her entirely, if his grip becomes her world, pressing in until there’s no air, no light, only him—what will she be then?

And she’s not even sure if he cares. He holds her there, yes, but it feels like watching a game; his own personal mousetrap, an exquisite little experiment to see how far she'll reach for the cheese. She wonders if he’s simply taking what he can, drawing her deeper until he tires of her, only to discard her when he does, laughing at her fascination with him. She can almost see it—him spitting in her face, turning her out with a sneer, then pulling her back in just as quickly. He'd fuck her, taunt her, pull her close only to watch her shatter, then laugh, invite her back with a gift, something golden, expensive, dripping with indulgent mockery. 

But then there are the other things he does, things that somehow feel worse—things that make the walls seem as though they’re closing in, or maybe as if he’s drawing her into some embrace she can’t escape from. She’s not sure which would be more terrifying. 

Sometimes, when they’re in Avernus together, she finds the portals dead, the way back to her world—a world of soft light and mortal trivialities, the Gate and its grime—suddenly blocked, cut off. And it's always the same dance. She demands an answer, asks why she can’t pass through, why she’s stuck here in this burning place with him, unable to flee back to the familiar. And he only waves her off, barely looking up, irritation flickering in his gaze. He says he hasn’t the time to bother with “simple magic,” that she can wait. 

But he knows, he knows damn it, that she can barely summon a spark, let alone force open a gateway on her own. He knows she’s trapped, helpless as a moth in a bottle, wings beating frantically against glass she can’t see. And he watches her, almost bored, as she paces, her panic ripening, sinking roots in her chest. Because he knows she won’t leave, can’t leave, and he’ll let her struggle just long enough to make her feel it—the helplessness, the claustrophobia, the bitter thrill of his control, closing around her, almost gentle, almost loving.

And then, only then, he flicks his fingers, and the portals blaze open, bright and mocking, as if they’d never gone dead at all. 

She's interrupting him, Raphael says, a nuisance he has no time for. Important matters, contracts to seal, souls to collect—real work to do, and here she is, lingering in his shadow, hovering as if she belongs, asking him to breathe life into a stupid portal. He snaps at her to leave, to stop her pestering, to get out of his sight. And so she does, shrinking back, biting her lip, retreating into her quiet corner.

But then, later—always, somehow, later—he comes to her, waking her from half-sleep as he climbs over her, pressing down with a heat that seems to burn straight through her skin. He murmurs his need, his lust, his rough, clumsy want, lips grazing her ear with words that are half-whispered, half-demanded. And she lets him, wraps her arms around his back, holds him, breathes through the rush of his hands, the awkward rhythm of his taking. 

She feels the weight of him, the feverish heat, and she sighs into it, into him, because in the Hells, everything is unbearably hot. His skin burns against hers, more furnace than flesh, and though she knows he’s hasty, heedless, that she’s just an outlet, a brief relief, she takes it. She lets herself be consumed by it, that pressing heat because here, with him, it’s as close to comfort as she’ll ever get.  

But sometimes there are moments that make her think he might care, moments she savors, drinks in slowly, wondering if they're real or merely the product of his boredom. She can never quite tell, but she doesn’t mind; she lingers on these glimmers of gentleness, holds them in her memory far longer than she should. 

Like when she’s soaking in his absurdly large bath, reclining in the steaming water with her arms folded along the edge, her head resting on cool stone, hair spilling loose behind her. She’s doing nothing at all, simply breathing in the warmth, letting the steam curl around her. And then he appears, slipping into the room, extending those long legs of his, rolling up his sleeves as he settles by her side. He doesn’t join her in the water; instead, he simply sits, a book resting in his hands, the very one she finished days ago. 

She watches, amused, as he leafs through it, the prominent wrinkle between his brows deepening with each page he turns. His expression is one of studied distaste, the kind that would be comical on anyone else. But on him, it’s strangely captivating. 

“Unhinged drivel,” Raphael mutters finally, his tone ripe with disdain. 

“Hm,” she echoes, half-lidded, watching him through the steam. 

“Why do you read this?” he questions. “I have half a mind to burn it. The sheer embarrassment of sharing the same air with it—I hardly want it in my library.” 

She smiles, faintly, eyes closing as she stretches a little deeper into the warmth. “I’m done with it,” she replies, lazily. “Do what you wish.” 

He taps two fingers against the spine. “The Duke is an absolute cretin, I must say.” 

“Oh?” she murmurs, her voice barely a breath above the water’s surface. 

“Utterly insipid,” he continues. "Such posturing, such shallow arrogance. I wouldn’t offer him a contract if he were the last soul on the proverbial platter.” 

She laughs then, quietly, letting the sound ripple through the steam. She knows Raphael is just indulging in his own particular brand of superiority, delighting in the verbal dissection, and maybe he doesn’t care for her company at all. But still, he stays, perched beside her, weaving disdainful monologues that settle like warm coals in her chest. And for a moment—just a moment—she lets herself pretend that he’s here for her. 

He continues, eyes fixed on the offending book as if it’s a particularly irksome insect. “The Duke’s speech in chapter five...” he says. “So very witless, wouldn't you say? Who professes undying love with such clumsy metaphors? And in the garden, no less, like a character in a tragic farce. ‘You are my sun and moon,’” he scoffs, his voice rising to a mock-romantic lilt. “‘My stars, my breath, my—’” 

He pauses, catching her wide-eyed, incredulous look. A faint smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth, and there’s a glimmer of something—mischief?—in his gaze. “Oh, little mouse, don’t look at me like that. Surely you didn’t think I’d stoop to reading this… for enjoyment?”

She raises an eyebrow, half-laughing, half incredulous. “You read it?”

“Of course I read it,” he replies, with all the haughtiness of a scholar who’s just suffered through a poorly constructed essay. “I couldn’t very well leave such intellectual refuse lying about in my library without inspecting it first.” 

“Just inspecting it? Raphael, you just quoted chapter five.” 

He waves his hand dismissively. “A tragic misfortune. I assure you, it was purely incidental. I only skimmed enough to confirm my suspicions about its total lack of merit.” 

“Right,” she says, rolling her eyes, watching as he flips another page with painstaking precision. “Is that why you’re carrying it around?” 

He raises an eyebrow, looking at her over the book with that familiar, aristocratic arch of his brow. “Little mouse,” he drawls, his tone both affectionate and condescending, “you really must learn what jests are. I can’t go about explaining them every time, you know.” 

The novel is set aside.

His hand slips below the water, and she knows, he’s done talking, at least about her books. His fingers graze her skin, tracing erratic patterns. She feels his hand leave her only to hear the soft rustle of fabric, and then he’s there, sliding into the water, slipping behind her. 

His arms wrap around her even as he pushes her against the cool stone of the bath’s edge. She feels his impatience in the way his hands move—roaming, relentless, almost rough, his fingers pressing into her skin, biting, digging between the ribs, as if he can’t bear to be gentle.  

One hand cups her shoulder, anchoring her as his other hand travels down her side. It moves in a slow sweep, now a caress, almost reverent, then shifting, tracing a path with no pattern, simply moving, as if he’s learning her contours anew. His grip tightens, loosens, a rhythm that speaks of need and very little restraint. 

He dips his head, face buried in her hair, and she feels the weight of his breath, the moist heat of it on the exhale. There’s a hunger in his closeness, an intensity that borders on obsession. He’s quiet now, all the long-winded, self-important monologues silenced, his usual need to fill the space with words abandoned. 

She feels him pressing against her back, the hard, insistent weight of him, the subtle rock of his hips, and she sighs, her body folding further against the edge of the bath, yielding to him. The warmth in her chest spills out, dissipating into something intangible, and once again, she wonders: Was this all just a performance for her, or something he needs for himself? Was that little, half-sweet conversation meant to soften her, make her more pliant? Or, against all logic, did he truly want to speak to her, to share in that strange, fleeting intimacy? 

She wonders if he cares, even a little, if those sarcastic, needlessly elaborate jests of his are meant to coax a smile from her, to make her laugh. Or is it all calculated, a ploy to keep her engaged, to ensure that when he fucks her, she meets him with something more than passive resignation? She feels his fingers tighten on her waist, his breath hitch, and for a moment, just a moment, she allows herself to believe there’s something deeper beneath his touch, something that holds her in place as much as his arms do. 

There are other moments too, moments that sink into her like a sickness, twisting her stomach, filling her with a dread so deep it almost makes her want to flee, to scrub herself clean, to be rid of him. And yet, those same moments leave her feeling strangely exhilarated, a little unhinged, as though some part of her is thrilled by the horror of it all. 

Take the merchant, for instance. A two-penny swindler, trying to pass off cheap fabric as something exquisite. She spots his scam instantly—anyone with half a brain would—but he’s audacious, leaning in, voice low and greasy as he sells his lie. She calls him out, unimpressed, and he snaps, calling her a cunt. She flips him off without a second thought and moves on, thinking nothing more of it. She’s heard worse, so much worse, and just because she looks the part of a noblewoman at Raphael’s insistence doesn’t mean she’s forgotten the dirt and sweat of her own past. She knows the cheap tricks—how cloth is dyed in back alleys, stained with whatever can be found, how insect paste and a dash of alchemical solution turn cotton into “silk” for gullible morons. She’s done it all herself, seen the worst of it, and this pathetic attempt to cheat her hardly scratches the surface. 

She forgets the encounter entirely—until the next day. Raphael barely glances up from his writing, absorbed in the ink-stained pages of yet another infernal contract, when he pushes a small, ornate box across the table toward her. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even acknowledge it beyond a faint, almost bored gesture. She blinks, glancing from the box to him, and then back, curious but wary, wondering if this is another one of his games. 

She takes it, hesitates, then lifts the lid. 

Inside, nestled against dark velvet, is a finger. Blue, bloated, stiff with the grip of death. Her stomach turns, nausea creeping up her throat as she stares at it, bile rising as the realization settles—this isn’t just some random, expensive trinket. It’s a message, as clear and cold as the dead flesh before her. 

“Oh,” she whispers, voice strangled, unable to look away from the pale digit lying in the box, rigor mortis locking it in a ghastly curl. Her hands are trembling, fingers itching to drop the box, to shove it away, to wipe away the memory of this grotesque gift. 

She looks up at him, horrified, and finds his gaze resting on her, idle, yet somehow amused. 

She stares some more, her mind spinning as she tries to process what she’s holding, what this grotesque little gift is meant to convey. A part of her wants to retch, to bolt from the room, while another, unhinged part of her feels an inexplicable pull, an urge to draw closer to him, to be entangled in whatever madness constantly hangs off his sleeve. 

But she doesn’t do any of those things. Instead, she lets out a half-laugh, shaky and weak. “That’s… not what usually comes in jewelry boxes.” 

Raphael arches a brow. “I’ve given you plenty of jewelry, little mouse. Rings, bracelets, earrings—a whole collection of baubles you hardly deign to wear. Lavaliers, circlets, gems so fine even the simpering nobles of Waterdeep would weep for them. And yet, here you sit, determined to remain a rube.” He tsks, rolling his eyes with theatrical annoyance. “Mayhaps, I thought, just mayhaps, you might appreciate something different to suit that plebeian palate of yours.”

“Whose is it?” she asks, though she already knows. She feels the answer in the pit of her stomach, in the memory of yesterday’s insults and her dismissive walk away. 

He only shrugs, dipping his quill in ink. “I’m told he was a merchant.” He pauses, as if to savor the uncertainty flickering across her face. “Or was it a dockhand? Perhaps a barkeep. Truly, who can keep track of such insignificant lives?” 

She watches, spellbound in a way she can’t quite understand, as he sprinkles pounce over the wet ink, the tiny white particles catching the dim light. He lifts the paper, blowing the pounce off with a sharp exhale that sends the fine dust scattering into the air, drifting toward her. She coughs, swatting it away, a moment of reflexive frustration breaking through her discomfort. 

“So many names,” Raphael murmurs, almost to himself. “So many lives, so many inconsequential little people. It’s hard to keep them all straight, isn’t it?” 

She stares at him, a blend of revulsion and fascination churning within her. His words hang in the air, so careless, so detached, as if snuffing out a life meant nothing more to him than discarding an old, forgotten knickknack. And yet, he looks at her now, watching, as if expecting her reaction, waiting to see if she’ll recoil or lean closer. 

She leans closer, letting the moment pull her in, and he gives a satisfied little hum, returning to his writing with an air of contentment, as if the world is exactly as it should be. She watches the steady flow of his hand, the way his quill glides across the page in elegant, looping strokes, his cursive rising and falling. Her mind, however, catches on another thought, one that wraps around her and refuses to let go. 

He cares, she thinks, or at least he acts as though he does. This is how he responds to insults aimed at her, as if her offense is his to avenge. But another thought lingers, darker and heavier. He knows—that’s what unsettles her. If he knows, that means he saw, or had someone watch on his behalf, and that means she’s never truly alone, even when he isn’t there. She wonders how far that gaze extends, if he’s tracking her every step, every word, if he’s marked her movements like pinpoints on a map, an invisible tether she’s unknowingly bound herself to. 

Her hand drifts to her throat, almost absently, fingers brushing the skin there as if she might feel some hidden collar, a leash she’s been wearing all along without realizing it. But of course, there’s nothing—just bare skin and the faint, lingering warmth of her own touch. Still, the thought unsettles her, sends a flutter of anxiety mixed with something else, something uncomfortably close to… warmth. A warmth that spreads through her chest, that holds her in place despite the quiet urge in her feet to stand, to move, to walk as far as she can. 

But she doesn’t. Instead, she stays there, leaning close, just watching him as he writes, utterly absorbed in whatever Infernal text he’s crafting. And as she watches, that warmth in her chest grows, mingling with her apprehension, a mix of dread and fascination that knots itself around her, binding her there as securely as any leash he might conjure. 

Another day, another reckoning. 

She’s a mess of bruises, skin mottled and darkened so thoroughly she resembles a patchwork quilt rather than a woman. There had been a brawl, Astarion may or may not have thrown punches he couldn’t back, and they both may or may not have drunk too much. Korrilla may or may not have been at the Caress at the same time, her wicked laughter mingling with the chaos, and now her nose is a crimson fountain, dripping ceaselessly. Even the potion Korrilla forced down her throat did nothing to blunt the ache, the slight sneer on Korrilla’s face as she half-carried her back to the House of Hope making it clear she didn’t particularly want to be back tonight. 

When she stumbles in, Haarlep just laughs, calling her a “bloody, battered fool” and waving her off in disgust when she starts peeling off her clothes. With a muttered “Ew,” he disappears as she limps toward the restoration pool, her one salvation tonight. She knows it’s usually reserved for soothing injuries from far more… pleasurable encounters, but she hardly cares as she sinks into it, wincing as the water starts working its magic, stitching up minor cuts and scrapes as she closes her eyes and lets her head fall back. 

She drifts, the water lapping around her, letting the throbbing recede—until a sharp yank at her scalp rips her back to the present, her head wrenched above the water. She chokes, sputtering out bloody droplets as her eyes snap open, and she finds herself staring at Raphael’s livid face, exasperation etched in every line. His hand is tangled in her hair, and her scalp stings from his tight grip. He glances down at his dripping sleeves, soaked from pulling her up, and curses. 

“What a stupid way to die,” he hisses. “Drowning in my boudoir because you’re too idiotic to stay awake.” His fingers tighten in her hair, and there’s no mercy in his eyes. “Take a deep breath now.” 

She barely has a second to react before he shoves her head under the water, his hand pressing down with unrelenting force. Her body jerks, and she inhales raggedly before he drags her up again, just long enough for her to gasp for air and catch his sharp, appraising look before he shoves her down once more, holding her under like a misbehaving dog in need of punishment. Water floods her nose, stinging as she chokes, her hands scrabbling for purchase against the pool’s edge. 

Up again, another cursory glance, and then he plunges her under once more, his grip firm, a rhythm of punishment and cleansing, as though he’s scrubbing the night’s sins from her with each forced dunk. She claws at his wrist, nails scraping against his skin, and he finally releases her, leaving her gasping and hacking as she collapses against the pool’s edge, water pouring from her lungs in a desperate, wheezing cough. 

She realizes then, as she shudders and coughs, that the blood is gone; her nose, once a mess of numb throbbing, now feels raw but whole. She clutches the pool’s edge, head bowed, catching her breath as the water stills around her. Raphael just stands there, dripping, sleeves ruined, as he observes her. 

“Well,” he mutters, flicking water from his fingers with a faint sneer, “at least you’re less of a mess now.” 

He hauls her from the water, pulling her sodden form from the boudoir and away from the rumpled heap of her clothes. His eyes drift over them—the plain tunic, the uninspired trousers, the scuffed leather boots—with a look of disdain so pointed it almost makes her wince. 

“An offense to beauty itself,” he murmurs, almost to himself, though the words slap her just the same. “These… things.” His lip curls. “They will burn. They’re an affront to my eyes, and my patience is wearing thin.” 

His gaze slides back to her face, catching on her bruised nose, and he tilts her head with the care one might give a very expensive artifact. His fingers are unhurried, methodical, as he surveys her battered skin. “I don’t keep unsightly things, you know,” he says. “I like my things beautiful. It’s why I collect them—why I keep them close.” 

Then, as if struck by a sudden thought, his tone shifts to something almost conversational, a careless elegance in his words that sets her nerves alight. “Tell me, little mouse,” he begins, fingers tapping idly on his thigh, “shall I lock the door?” 

She feels a shiver run through her, her voice faltering. “Which… one?” 

He tilts his head in mock contemplation. “Why not all of them?” 

“Raphael…” she starts, but she isn’t even sure what she wants to say, or if there’s anything to be said at all. 

Unhurriedly, he begins to strip off his clothes, each gesture carried out with an almost ritualistic elegance. He slips out of his doublet, casting it aside with a look of mild annoyance. “Your doing,” he sighs, smoothing an imaginary crease before discarding it. “This fabric—fine enough to silence even the heavens—ruined by your negligence. It cost more than you could dream, more than most would spend in a lifetime.” 

She watches, stuck somewhere between disbelief and fascination, unsure if he’s preparing to fuck her or simply indulging in the strange meticulousness of his undressing. Each cufflink is unfastened with almost absurd care, each tie released with the same flawless precision she knows so well. The clothes fold neatly under his hands, smoothed and arranged as if they were sacred relics, and though part of her wants to laugh at the absurdity, she knows better than to test his patience now. 

Raphael pauses, shirt open just enough to reveal the line of his throat, his collarbone stark against tan skin. His eyes pin hers and his voice takes on a melodic, almost regretful tone. “Perhaps if I lock you in,” he murmurs, “you might refrain from throwing yourself into every pit of squalor in the Gate, seeking out any hand willing to smash that face of yours.” 

“No one seeks that, Raphael,” she says, her voice sounding distant. “It just… happens.” 

He snaps his fingers with a sharp, final click. “Yes, yes,” he echoes, almost as if humoring a child. “And doors just… lock themselves.” 

[httpscomexe]

Ensnared 5

Summary: Your leg is fucked, but so are you. (This is probably the last chapter, might pick it back up, idk)

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Yandere!Logan Howlett x PlusSize!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of past injury with some description, anxiety and stress, mentions of medicine, aggressive dog, manipulation, some yandere aspects, violence, knives, attempted knife play, blood, pv,  (Individual warnings per chapter) (Logan is an official warning as approved by the FDA (Food and Drug Administration) because Logan is a DRUG. PLEASE BE AWARE that this will be a NON-CON fic. Do NOT get attached if you do not like non-consensual fiction. I will not change my fic plans because somebody decided not to read the warnings. Thank you)

Tags: @sammyluvsfics

Word Count: 2838 (Find all chapters here)

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again.

Your leg was healing well, considering the crushed bones, enormous scars, and bloody bandages that had to be replaced at least once a day.

It hurt like fucking shit.

You were constantly stressed. The pain in your leg was unbearable when you weren’t either taking pain medications or in a deep sleep after taking sleeping medicine. Then there was also Logan. He was sweet to you, so you didn’t understand why your body rejected him so much. You suppose it was because you naturally couldn’t be attracted to the man that kidnapped you, murdered someone you knew, and then acted like everything was okay.

The bear trap was your fault, you should’ve stopped when he said it was unsafe.

Spilled hot coffee on yourself? You weren’t paying attention.

It was also your fault that the mailman died. Even though it was his three claws that stabbed into the man's throat. But you shouldn’t have whispered ‘help.’

Everything bad that happened, it all led back to you.

And no, there weren’t any twisted mind tricks, or shit manipulation tricks that were making you believe it was truly your fault. It was just literally your fault.

Everything that happened that was bad could’ve been stopped if you were just more careful, but it was hard to be careful when you were walking on eggshells in front of this man. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you, but even if he did, say… backhand you, it would be your fault for provoking him. And that wasn’t easy.

A bark comes from beside you on the couch. The pitch black german shephard was staring at your sandwich, that was the only time Logan ever defended you, because the dog was trained to watch you, and bite you if you’re being an ass.

“Shut up dog.” He didn’t even bother giving the dog a name. He’s settled for calling him ‘dog.’ But the boy still listens, stepping off the couch and moving to lie down in his dog bed upon hearing Logan's angered voice. “You need to teach that dog to respect you.”

“You’re the one that trained him to kill me.”

“No, I trained him to keep you inside and hurt you only if you managed to get out.” He explained for the 5th time this week, you could tell he was starting to get annoyed.

“Well he bit me the other day…”

“Because you raised your voice at me.”

“You were being mean!” Your voice squeaks, and you turn around to face him in the kitchen. He was wearing his white beater and thick jeans, the teddy bear socks you ordered for him were on his feet, keeping him warm.

Was it wrong to admit you still loved and cared for him?

Probably.

But you did. When you had felt his feet on your thighs a few weeks ago because he was using you as a footrest as you two watched Bambi, his feet were absolutely freezing. “Holy shit dude, did you just come inside after walking in the snow barefoot?” You had pushed his feet off your lap, and he eventually let you search online for some socks. It took some convincing, but he eventually ordered the fluffy teddy bear socks. And now he wouldn’t stop wearing them.

You were just happy he was warm.

“Whatever.” You mumble after he doesn’t answer you, but he walks over to sit next to you on the couch. You still had a pillow placed on your lap which you’ve been cuddling all day and night, the word ‘home’ written on it in bold brown letters, making it pretty homey honestly.

“Whatever?” He groans as he sits down.

“What’re you groaning about old man?” You lean forward slightly, and he chuckles, your powers picking up the vibration in his chest which makes you feel fuzzy.

He was so sweet to you when he was in a good mood.

“Come here puppy.” He pats his lap, and you quickly move forward, tossing your pillow to the side to cuddle into him like an actual dog.

The way he wants you to.

You were the puppy, and he was the owner. He told you, followed by your smart ass biting him at every chance you got. He was honestly lucky you still had enough decency to not shit and piss on the floor out of spite.

But for some reason, you grew on him.

“Good girl…” He whispers, holding you close against his chest, not tight, as he wanted you to be comfortable.

He was always warm, especially his feet. It always brought a sense of happiness and comfort to you, even after you two fought.

You look down at the dog, he’s resting already, snores coming from his nose. But you know he’s still watching your every move somehow.

“Are you okay?” You nod, leaning further against him, seeking the most warmth you could as his hand moves under your shirt to start rubbing circles on your back, something he’s learned that you love, considering it makes your face redden.

“I have a question…” You mumble against his chest, part of you hoping he didn’t hear you.

“What’s the question?” You’re quiet for a moment, debating how to ask it.

“Promise you won’t get mad at me?”

“If you think I’m going to be mad, then I’m probably gonna be mad. Ask it.”

“What do you plan on doing with me…?” Your voice shakes slightly, and you begin to pick at your skin nervously when he doesn’t answer. Gently, he sits you up, making it so you look into his eyes. Your faces are just inches apart.

“Are you scared?” He asks, his voice quiet like he’s speaking to a horrified child.

You nod.

You hated to admit it. But you were scared.

He scoffs, shaking his head slightly at your movement. “Why would you be scared of me?” He grins, his hands cupping your cheeks, making you look even chubbier. “I love you, my angel… I wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt you…” He finishes his sentence with a kiss. His lips feel like poison against yours. “I love you.” He says again, his forehead pressed against yours. “Say it back. Say you love me.” He demands, grip tightening.

“I love you too… Logan.” You say his name with venom laced around every word like a snake choking their next meal. Then you had an idea. “Can I please get some water?” A smirk grows on your face, and you rock your hips slightly against him, biting your bottom lip. You’ve never been a seductress, but the growing tent in his pants tells you you’re doing good.

“Of course baby, go ahead.” He lets go of you, and you slowly stand, making sure to make nice sways of your hips as you move into the kitchen, reaching up and grabbing a glass, which you fill with water from the sink.

Your plan was simple. Though you weren’t too sure how it would play out.

You hear light feet behind you, the dog was going to sleep for the night. That makes you worry less. Looking in the reflection of the microwave, you could see Logan was looking away, so you quickly reach over, stealing a knife out of the knife block, shoving the blade into the back of your panties, making sure not to cut yourself, leaving the handle sticking out.

You take a deep breath, and begin to walk back over to Logan who was now facing the TV, both of his arms draped over the back of the couch. His eyes find you, smiling above your glass of water as you take a sip, your devilish eyes on him.

“That’s a different look.” He sits up slightly, but you keep him down by straddling his lap. “Am I finally winning-?” Your lips attach to his, the glass still in your right hand while your left hand gently grabs his jaw.

“You want me Logan?” You whisper, the sound making his hips jerk up against you, and his hands move to your hips. You had to move before he found the knife. His lips quirk into a smile, then he suddenly flips you over onto your back, the blade of the knife cutting your skin slightly, causing your hips to jerk upwards against him, a moan coming from his lips as they attach to the skin of your neck, his body still grinding against yours.

You try to reach behind your back, but it’s almost impossible to lift your body with his fucking boulder of a body lying on top of you.

“Are you lying on something?” His fists move to the sides of your head, then he leans on his forearms, giving you enough room to lift your back up, reach behind your back…

“Logan…” You whisper his name, the smile on your lips gone.

“Yes love?” He sounded so innocent.

“I fucking hate you.” You chuckle a little, then in the blink of an eye, the silver of the kitchen knife disappears in the side of his neck, a gurgle coming from his throat as he looks down at you in confusion, his face reddening and his mouth hanging open slightly before he collapses on top of you. SHIT. He was fucking heavy. It was like an elephant decided to take a nap on your chest. “Shit, get off!” You shout, struggling to move him, having to use your entire body as you manage to slip out from under him, making him fall onto the floor with a loud thump, the knife still sticking out of his throat as you quickly run into his room, grabbing a jacket and his truck keys before darting back out.

And your stomach turns.

He’s standing there. Perfectly fine.

He stands in front of your exit, his fingers wrapped around the handle of the knife, and he yanks the blade out, blood only gushing from his neck for a moment before you watch as the wound closes in just a few seconds. It takes a moment to realise he’s looking at you now, his key ring around your pinky finger as you stare at him in fear.

“No… Logan- Just hear me out-” You stutter as he approaches you, picking up the knife he threw to the floor as his walking becomes faster, backing you against a wall.

“What the fuck was-”

“I’m into knife play…” You spit it out as if it was a true confession. No, you weren’t into it. Or at least you’ve never tried it.

“You’re into knife play?” You nod your head. “Yea I knew that wouldn’t kill you.”

He stares at you for a long moment before speaking again.

“Well that’s good to know. Get in the bed.” He demands, taking a step back so you could manoeuvre into the bedroom. “Come on, clothes off.”

“Logan-”

“Clothes. Off.” He repeats, pointing towards the bed with the kitchen knife, and you finally listen. You watch from the bed as he lodges the knife between the crack of the door and the wall, pulling the door slightly to see if it could budge, and it doesn’t. “Knife play, huh?” He checks, moving to the bed and pulling your legs closer until they are hanging over the bed, and he settles himself between them. “Sounds fun.” He tells you, then suddenly reaches into the bedside draw, pulling out a pocket knife, flipping it to reveal a sharp blade. “Let me just make sure it’s sharp enough.” He grunts, lifting your arm, drawing the edge of the blade just barely over your forearm, and it easily leaves a paper like cut, making you wince. “Perfect.” He grabs the back of your thighs, and throws you further onto the bed, quickly crawling between your legs, the knife positioned on your stomach, keeping you still.

“Logan-”

“Shut up you fucking liar.” He growls, pushing his lips onto yours as he uses the knife to pull your panties aside, flipping the tool to rub your clit with the handle.

“Shit-”

“No, I said shut the fuck up.” He stops, and his eyes stare into yours.

Now you have a decision.

Let the asshole hurt you, and possibly walk away without getting fucked.

Or give into your desires.

The option wasn’t hard to decide.

“Sorry… daddy…” You moan, rocking your hips slightly, searching for some friction.

If you were going to be stuck here, you might as well enjoy it. But you weren’t too sure he would ever get over the knife kink after he was done with you.

“Daddy, hm?” He smirks, and you feel his body because less tense, less angry as he lies on top of you. “Stay still angel.” He tells you, putting the knife to the side for a moment as he pulls his shirt over his head, and your eyes stare at his body. It was like looking into a bag of freshly baked Hawaiian rolls. You might’ve made it a joke about wanting to bite him before. Being his ‘puppy,’ but now you really wanted to bite him. To taste him between your teeth.

Savour him.

“Mm… Please Logan…” You moan his name. You weren’t sure what had come over you, but now you wouldn’t be able to resist him. You need him.

“Begging too, I like it…” He reaches down, unbuttoning his jeans and removing his belt, tossing the belt to the side before tugging down his jeans slightly, and pulling out his cock, red and angry, already leaking precum. You wanted to just wrap your lips around him, feel him and taste him in your mouth, take him deep down in your throat. “Should see the ways your eyes are growing… Now you definitely look like a fucking puppy.” His lips attach to your throat, biting the lobe of your ear and tugging slightly as his hand rests on your waist, his other arm on the bed, being careful not to crush you this time.

His hand moves, lifting your waist slightly, and you take the hint. Wrapping your legs around his waist and he hooks his finger in the lace of your panties, pulling and breaking it easily before ripping them off completely and throwing them aside.

He pushes into you without any warning, not wanting to waste another second as his lips never leave your skin. You were slightly jealous, but you couldn’t even voice it, the only sounds that came from your throat were the pleasured moans drawn out by the thrusting of Logan's cock into your cunt, giving you to time to adjust as he ruts into you like a starved dog and you’re in heat. You loved it. It felt amazing. You’ve let plenty of larger men fuck you, but barely even thirty seconds into allowing Logan to fuck you, you already felt brainless. Jumbled words of desire, a few ‘daddy’ies and a couple ‘feels so good,’s all leaving your lips as he slams his hips against yours, his hands eventually gripping your thighs and spreading you further as he moves your legs to rest on his shoulders, you barely even notice the movements. Then he forces himself into you harder, his cock lathering your walls with your juices as he makes you cum, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you let him use you like a doll.

A few minutes pass, and you weren’t sure when, you weren’t sure how, but you at some point move to sit on top of him, riding him like you had the energy of a twelve year old boy seeing the lego store in a mall,bouncing and rocking your hips like your job was just to fuck Logan, and his hips also rock against yours, his entire dick balls deep inside of you as you both lather what most would consider the most disgusting kisses all over eachother lips, spit and some tears from your own eyes covering eachothers lips as you both slobbily kiss eachother, his own lips eventually finding one of your nipples as he licks and bites it, your hands moving to his shoulders to keep yourself steady before his body suddenly shifts again, now you’re against the headboard, and he’s rutting into you again, the bed shaking viciously while his mouth smothers yours, and your mouth smother his.

Then his constant thrusting seems to get faster, and you feel your stomach tighten. You’re both close, and he doesn’t let up.

“Where, puppy… Tell me where…” He says with emotion laced in his face. You knew where he wanted you.

“Inside… Please Logan, inside…” He moans, his body rippling slightly and you feel his warmth seep through you, covering your walls in white. He thrusts a few more times before pressing another kiss to your mouth, more of a peck, then he rests his forehead on yours. “Does this mean you’re done with your stupid attitude?” He asks, you shake your head.

“You’ve gotta try harder than that…”

[peaky-shelby]

Say My Name Three Times | Kylian Mbappè

Pairing: kylian x reader

Series: Take Me On The Field

Request: Heyy, can I have a Kylian Mbappe request maybe they’re at a game of his and she goes to surprise him, she’s his girlfriend and an actress they haven’t seen each other in a month

Writer's note: this is the first story of the take me on the Field series. send in requests for our favorite players. You can check my prompt lists here.

When I reached Qatar I was praying to everything holy for no one would recognize me. So far I had done a great job at convincing Kylian that I wasn’t going to make it to the final because of reshoots for the new project. The thing I loved most about him was that he didn’t even get mad about it. We were the exception of the rule that footballers dating actresses never ended happily. We both understood each other’s busy schedules, even when it wasn’t in our favor.

Of course the fact that he didn’t get mad didn’t mean that he didn’t complain. He wanted me there as much as I wanted to be there and it was eating us both alive. When I got the ok two days ago to leave the movie set I decided to surprise him, instead of telling and giving him a boost of confidence from the sidelines.

The hat covered most of my facial futures, along with my eye vision which was the reason I bumped into about 20 guys wearing Messi’s shirt. But thankfully my mask hid the rest of my face, as did my black as night sunglasses. To mix with the crowd I was wearing one of Kylian’s jersey’s and an old pair of sweatpants. Nothing about me was screaming celebrity, which was exactly the way I liked it.

The only one helping me with everything and knew I was coming was Giroud. He had spoken to the drivers, so one of them would be waiting for me. On the way to the French base, I stared out of my window, at the people, dressed and blue and white or in dark blue carrying the french flag over their heads. I smiled, truth was, kylian or not, football had been a part of me since I was a kid, the view made me emotional. When we reached the French base, the team had already left for the stadium. One of Giroud’s assistant was waiting for me on the foyer.

“Bonjour Mademoiselle!” he exclaimed when he saw me. He dealt with the security and helped me find my way to kylian’s room. All the way to his room, he’d mumble about how happy he was the Giroud has trusted him with this mission. I laughed at his excitement and thanked him a bunch for his help. When we got inside it instantly felt like home as Kylian’s perfume filled all my senses and I almost snuck in the bathroom expecting to find him by the mirror, shaving. I left my stuff next to the bed, as I raised my head I noticed he had a picture of us by his nightstand. I must have stood there looking at it for a long time because Giroud’s assistant, patted me on the shoudler “We have to go Mademoiselle!”

I nodded quickly, picked just my scarf with the French’s team’s logo, my phone and my jacket and ran outside with him. Everything else happened too quickly, the drive to the stadium, sneaking in with Giroud’s passes and all the way to the dressing rooms my phone was buzzing with Mbappe’s picture. I stopped just right outside the dressing room, smiling at myself. Giroud’s assistant looked at me confused as I answered the call.

“Babe! Où étais-tu ?” he asked, stressed, before I even had time to say anything.

“Je suis désolé! I got caught up at work! Has the came started?”

“Non!” I could hear the nerves in his voice. “Two minutes before we go out! I need your good luck!” While he was speaking I peaked through the door of the dressing room, all the boys were there sitting on their benches. Talking, laughing, putting on their uniforms. Mbappe on the other hand wasn’t there at all.

“You have all my good luck! You know that!”

“HEY! KYLIAN! JE DOIS ALLER AUX TOILETTES, MEC ! SORTEZ !” I heard somebody yelling through the phone.

“FUCK OFF ! Je parle avec ma copine!” he said shot back, my heart sinking when he called his girl. It sounded beautiful in any language he’d say it. I finally walked in the dressing room, everybody started exclaiming until I shushed them with my finger “You shouldn’t be talking to your teammates like the kyky!” I walked behind the benches, high fiving giroud as I passed him and got to the hall that led to the toilet. Tchouameni was knocking on the bathroom door. I guessed Kylian must have been inside.

“They shouldn’t be interrupting me when I’m talking to you.”

I patted Tchouameni on the shoulder. He jumped and covered his mouth when he saw me, he was as shocked as I hoped Kylian would be. I tilted my head to signal him to away for a moment and I got closer to the door. I could swear my heart was tied with Kylian’s because the closer I would get the more I felt it beat, like it wanted to jump out of my chest and right into his hands. I leaned on the door.

“If they gotta pee, the gotta pee Kyky!”

“Can I face time you?”

I smiled “I don’t have time. I have to go meet somebody.”

I heard him sigh and curse. I imagined him covering the microphone because I only heard it through the door, the he said on the microphone. “I really wish you were here, mon cheri!”

“Say my name three times, I might appear out of nowhere.”

He did it without thinking, he’d believe in anything if it could get me to be where he was. I laughed and knocked on the door.

“Putain de merde ! Laisse-moi tranquille Tchouameni!” He yelled, making me laugh again! So I knocked, with my palm, loud, like I was his teammate in need of the toilet. “PUTAIN!” He yelled and I heard him stand up, my heart reaching the speed of an airplane about to lift off. I heard him unlock, my breath becoming so stiff I thought I would choke right then and there and then-

“Merde Ts-“ he stopped. His eyes starring blankly at me, his voice eaten, his body frozen. I thought he was on facetime and the connection had fallen as it usually did and he was gonna stay like that for the next hour. I was scared to even touch him, as if he would reload and disappear completely. Then he spoke, relief filled my lungs, he was real. “Merde..” he said, this time softer, this time like a prayer. He didn’t even waste any time to put his phone back on his pocket, he just let it slip off his hand and wrapped his arms around me, lighting me up. I tied my legs around his waste, hiding my face in the crook of his neck, taking In his perfume and his skin. A drug I had long missed. He spoke curses and muffled words in my hair, until I pulled my head back, just so I could look in his eyes. I smiled widely and kissed him, the way I’ve waited for a month. He walked until I was against the wall, still kissing me and holding me like I was part of him. It felt easy, it felt as it should be.

We pulled back to breath and I leaned my forehead against his, our eyes saying a thousand words as we stared into each other’s souls. He was smiling like a dork, I think I was too.

“Hi.” I whispered and he laughed. Still unable to believe this was real. He shook his head.

“You came.” He whispered, his one hand reach my cheek, stroking it. I leaned to his touch.

“You said my name three times” I whispered back, getting another laugh from him. Then his expression got serious, his eyes fell on me with lust burning out of them.

“I’d say your name every second of every day non stop if I have to.” He answered and leaned in to kiss me again, this time deeper. We were interrupted by someone flushing the toilet. We hadn’t even realized his teammate had walked passed us while we were reuniting. When he came out he gave us a teasing look. Kylian kicked him in the ass, cursing him and then we looked at each other, laughing. It was as it should be.

[spacedace]

I know it was a prompt and u said you werent gonna do anything with it (and you so should) but i love ur two posts on the Queen of Clones Elle/Amnesiac Champion Kon AU (especially Kon's knight design (like ghost tattoos?!?!? so so cool) and Elle's relationship with him). Got anymore headcanons about this au? Who are the other clones you envisioned playing the background characters? Do Kon and Tim actually cuddle in the Only One Bed scenario? Does Elle get a cool princess/queen design(s) since Kon gets a knight one? Does Tim walk into Kon's knight practice and have a "oh no he's hot" moment? Just afagshjdksll this au is so cool please tell me all about it

The thing is, whenever I say "I'm going to put X idea here for someone else to grab since I'm never going to do anything with it" I'm lying. I'm a liar. It's still lives in my brain and is taking over all rational thought. I have at least 85% of a story written in my head when I say that, I just know that I'm never going to sit down and actually write it down lol

I have SO MANY thoughts about this AU, you have no idea what you've done asking me about it haha

(and seriously if anything at all in my ramblings here is of interest to anyone have at it, everything I post should always be considered free game to use as a writing prompt haha)

Like, between Elle getting snatched by the GIW & Kon ending up in custody with the Justice League for a bit, a lot of the clones that weren't involved in the rescue(s) who are out in the wider multiverse come pouring in to check on them and there's this huge impromptu "Congrats on Escaping a Government Agency" party for the two of them.

There are so many clones just everywhere, Tim is overwhelmed by them all (and hasn't actually realized that the whole deal of the place is that everyone there is a clone yet). But he's dealing. He's sticking close to Kon (because he's never letting Kon leave his sight again, especially since he's half convinced that Elle kidnapped & brainwashed Kon into being her loyal servant for evil purposes) and getting introduced to the most diverse group of entities he's ever seen before (humans aren't the only ones who get into cloning).

And then there's an excited whoop as some kid comes flying out of a portal and launches himself at Kon, talking a thousand miles a second, just so happy Kon is back and okay and the boy is so chipper and happy and sweet that it takes Tim a second to realize holy shit is that Damian????

The kid is the Heretic, aged down and growing up again with a fresh slate after getting sent to Elle's Haunt post however he disappeared/died in DC canon (I'm a bit fuzzy on those details). Of course that information takes a bit for Tim to figure out, becuase the kid has no memories at all of being the Heretic or of Damian or Talia or Bruce or fighting his way out of a whale fully grown. As far as he's concerned he's Antonio, Paulina Sanchez' adopted son, and like sure he's somebody's clone but that really doesn't matter to him, he only comes to Elle's haunt to hang out and tag along behind Kon because he thinks Kon is the coolest. (Kon is explaining this to Tim as a bright, cheerful, normal kid version of Damian is sitting on his shoulders. Tim is losing his god damn mind).

And the Only One Bed Thing!! Okay, so like, Kon is Elle's Champion and basically her unofficial Heir. When Elle isn't around he's in charge of her Haunt and looking after all the other clones. And even when she is there he just goes full Big Brother mode on everyone. It doesn't matter if the clones that end up in the Haunt are actually older than him, he's their big brother now.

To that end, clones end up coming to Kon all the time in the middle of the night, unable to sleep because of nightmares and stuff. And Kon is the cuddliest motherfucker. He's all about platonic cuddles to help people sleep. Just about every clone that's ever spent any time at Elle's haunt has ended up curled up in a blanket fort in Kon's room getting cuddled into feeling safe and cared for.

So for Kon? Only One Bed is no issue at all.

Oh all the clones coming over for the party has taken up all the rooms and Elle is "too weak from recovering" for her Haunt to make more? Of course Red Robin can stay in his room! His bed is so comfy and there's more than enough room for both of them (and like, sure, he's kinda panicking a little because he's never cuddled with anyone he's sorta had a tiny bit of a crush on, but he cab be cool! Besides, its hard to fully commit to the crush one Red Robin when Mystery Boy is out there somewhere, oh maybe he can ask Red Robin about him! He seems to know so much about Kon he'll know who Kon is in love with back in his old life!)

Tim, on the other hand, is just fully:

Over the prospect of having to keep his shit together while sleeping in the same bed as Kon (who sleeps without a shirt, jesus fucking christ, Kon has tattoos now since when did that happen??? why is he somehow more attractive than when he disappeared??? oh god Tim is going to have a fucking heart attack) especially after Kon drops the bomb that the only thing he can remember from before is some guy that Kon was apparently totally in love with??? Like Tim is being thrown wildly between being a Bi Disaster to being totally devistated and back again.

He mostly manages to keep himself together, at least until it's actually time for bed and it turns out that Kon is a cuddler when he sleeps (Kon did warn him! "just shove me off if I end up trying to use you as a pillow it won't wake me up" he said, and Tim thought "well it can't be that bad" he was so fucking wrong) and Tim ends up wrapped up in a cocoon of muscled and tattooed Kryptonian arms with his face smushed into Kon's chest and Kon nuzzling into Tim's hair in his sleep and it's the most comfortable Tim's ever been in his life and Kon purrs in his sleep like how is that even fair??? (I love the Kyrptonian's purr headcanon so much it has to be in here lol)

By the end of the first week Tim's has slept more and better than he has in years. He's genuinely forgotten what it's like to have a normal sleep schedule. Even with all his panicking, Kon sleepily curling up around him and hugging him like a teddy bear just knocks him out. It's insane.

And Elle! I have so many thoughts about Elle in this AU!

I mentioned it in one of my other posts on this AU that Elle gives off Vibes based off her various Epitaphs that she's gained, and I think that she'd kinda push that to the max when it came to Tim for awhile when Kon first shows up with him.

Like, she takes one look at Tim and is like "ah, this is Mystery Boy my amnesiac bestie has been on about forever" while also realizing that Kon has no idea that he's just panic-kidnapped the one person he sorta remembers from his old life. Which is the oppurtunity of so much fun matchmaking chaos. And she loves Kon, she's planning on officially making him her Heir so that he becomes Prince of Clones as well as her Champion, she wants him to be happy.

But also she's protective over him, more even than a lot of the other clones that end up in her Haunt. Kon doesn't remember his old life and he was so badly injured when he ended up in Elle's haunt that Frostbite hadn't been sure he would survive. Add in the fact that Red Robin was clearly with the people that had captured Kon while he and the other clones were getting her out of the GIW facility (and that the Justice League is sort of a government agency in it's own right) and Elle isn't totally sold on Tim.

She goes out of her way to give off extra creepy vibes while around him. Making sure he understands that she's more than strong enough to destroy him if he even thinks about hurting Kon. At least in the early days of Tim being in her haunt. She does, eventually, lighten up - especially when Kon gives her the big eyes and asks her to trust him, that he knows that Red Robin is someone he believes is good and that won't ever hurt him. She's still keeps a close eye on Tim, but does chill out a little after that.

And she does have a Queen Form (and a princess form when she's doing her Crown Princess of the Infinite Realms thing). She has a couple different forms/designs depending on which Epitaph she's invoking (and of course a fun vaguely eldritch shadow form that scares the shit out of Tim haha).

Her Clone Queen design is BIG, not quite massive Eldritch Ghost King Danny big, but definitely big. Like 20-30 feet tall big, so she can pick up and carry/hold all her clone children like little babies (if any clones are from a race/species that's bigger than that her size adjusts so she's always big enough to carry them).

She has a crown made out of mirror shards that float around and move so that it's always changing shape (I've been feeling clones being called "Mirrorborn" in the Infinite Realms since there's kind of a naming convention already with "unborn" and clones could be seen as kind of like reflections in a way. Elle's official title is actually "Queen of the Mirrorborn" though sometimes is called "Mother of Mirrors" that's why Kon's sheild reflects things, since Elle made it for him out of a piece of her crown while naming him her Champion) and wears a dress that also looks like it's covered in mirrors. It's actually very soft and comfortable and it's super common for clones to climb around or curl up in her skirts and sleep in there.

Her dress does turn into armor though if she needs to fight. And while in Clone Queen mode it's actually super easy for her to duplicate herself a bunch of times.

Knight Training!

Once Elle chills out on Tim a little and is fully onboard the matchmaking train with the rest of the clones (all while absolutely none of them tell Kon that Red Robin is obviously his Mystery Boy) she has Fright Knight show up more often to train Kon specifically for the purpose of Tim walking in on shirtless Tim expertly going through sword forms and sparring with various other clones. And of course Tim and Kon have to have a sparring scene, where Tim is so distracted by Kon being so fucking attractive he ends up pinned against a wall with the flat of a sword under his chin and Kon giving him a cheeky wink and then it's on and there's a whole dramatic flirty fight scene as they make their way through half of Elle's Haunt while sword fighting.

Also! Since Elle's entire court is actually there for once, a bunch of different monarchs around the Infinite Realms decide to host a tournament, so Kon gets to do official knight stuff in his best armor. And Tim gets place of honor right next to Elle during all the jousting and fighting stuff so he gets the best view of Kon kicking ass.

Tim (still wearing his mask because even if he's pretty sure that no one here is evil or would use his secret identity against him - or even care that he has one) has been all dressed up in some gorgeous clothes fit for his status as "Companion" to a Queen's Champion/future Heir. Just something absolutely insanely georgous in the colors of his Red Robin suit, with a dramatic but entirely functionless cape and Kon's crest (not Elle's but Kon's) embroidered on it and it's Kon's turn to blue screen at seeing Tim for the first time all dressed up.

And Tim is maybe finally putting together from talking with Kon that he might be Mystery Boy that Kon remembers from before and that Kon is in love with. So just before Kon is going out to joust, Tim - taking Elle's advice that he should give Kon a favor before the tournament for good luck - and wanting it to be more meaningful than just a handkerchief or something, takes his mask of and gives it to Kon as his favor.

And Kon just loses his god damn mind because Mystery Boy and Red Robin are the same person and all he wants to do is kiss Tim stupid but Fright Knight Master of Chivalry is like "nope you gotta win this tournament and bring honor to your beloved and do this whole ridiculous song and dance about it, no kissing, get out there and smash some heads together - and keep your helmet on this time!" and just yeets a disgruntled Kon out into the field before he can do anything.

And of course with all this extra incentive - Fright is serious about that whole "prove your love through combat" thing he's not going to be allowed to even kiss Tim's hand unless he wins and is perfectly chivalous while doing it - Kon wins the Tournament and is given the flower crown he's supposed to give to the most beautiful of all the observers and of course he gives it to Tim and he doesn't care if there's a forty step courting process he's supposed to follow Fright, he's fucking kissing Tim and there's nothing you can do about it!

Literally seconds away from them finally kissing is when the Justice League kick down the door to get Tim back.

The ghosts aren't even the ones that wrecks the Justice League's shit for interuppting, it's just Tim screaming at them about being cock blocks for forty minutes while Kon screams into the void in the background.

(Kon does get his memories back eventually, and he and Tim do finally get that kiss and start dating. But at that point Kon has been named Elle's heir so Fright Knight is even more rediculous about Correct Courting Steps than before because Kon is a Prince now. Elle is just relieved that it turns out that the Justice League nuked the GIW while they were looking for Tim, because they were not okay with them or the Anti-Ecto Laws. Kon is mortified at having what is effectively his adoptive mother constantly popping in to dote on him while in the middle of fights, Elle is having a great time.)

[inlove76]

are your request opened if not please ignore this but if they are can you make a yandere gojo r sukana with male reader where the male reader doesn't care about anything and is just like meh and when gojo r sukana sneaks in to readers house and reader wakes up and catches them going through his draws and stuff he's just like "uh ok" and then goes back to sleep leaving the other one confused and then after a few seconds reader realizes what's going on and just has a big oh shit moment

yes yes I can

stupid very stupid

yandre gojo and sukuna (separately) x male reader

so as many people noticed m/n was stupid. well not stupid just a little dense when it came to important stuff so as dense as he was he was completely unaware of a certain somebody having a complete and  utterly obsessive crush on him.

for him there was nothing wrong he was okay with everything.....

y'all: really? *judging*

alright let me rephrase that he didn't give two shits about anything or anyone.

y'all: that's better

anyways as m/n was on his way back home from his tiring job completely unaware of the person following close behind him and watching his every move.

m/n finally made it back to his home and how long that took was crazy. m/n was ready to pass out and so like any sane man he got in a shower and hopped into bed his eyes fluttering closed as he got comfy unaware of the person right underneath his bed

satoru gojo

gojo swiftly climbed from under your bed and stepped over to the right to watch you sleep. this kinda thing would have never been expected from gojo but he couldn't help it with the way you were kind to people but also didn't give a fuck about any of them it was intriguing to say the least but hey everyone's got something that makes them special

for gojo it was his obsessive love for you I guess anyways gojo had finally snapped out of the trance like state he was in and went over to your dresser the main reason gojo even bothered coming here was so he could find out more about you.

from his observations (stalking) you didn't like much and didn't do much either so to him you were a complete and utter mystery to solve. as gojo was going through your stuff: old pictures, dairies,notebooks and more he got startled by you waking up and sitting up to.

warm e/c eyes met beautiful blue ones. gojo froze preparing for the worst for you to realize he's not supposed to be there, for you to scream and back away throwing stuff at him. of course that didn't happen as you were too tired to process that gojo the gojo was in your room and going throw your stuff, but to be fair even if you did realize would you have honestly cared?

no. the answer is no you would not have cared and as gojo got ready for you to get freaked out, you went back to sleep

gojo stared at you in utter confusion "he just....fell asleep?" gojo mumbled to himself. gojo knew you liked sleeping from his um...investigation on you (stalking).

he waited a few minutes to see if you were actually aware he was here or not. it took your half asleep mind a few minutes to realize he was here and when you did you sat up rather quickly and wiped your head so fast he could swear he heard it crack over to gojo.

gojo just stayed there frozen and in shock "holy shit" you yelled and then sprung up out of bed

"who the hell are you and why are you in my house?" you asked the shocked white haired male in your room, it took gojo a minute to realize you were talking to him and he cleared his throat "I'm gojo..gojo satoru and I'm here to uh..." gojo trailed off not knowing what to say but one good look at your face and he realized he just gave himself away

"mhm okay yep I'm going to throw this knife at you if you don't tell me why your here" you explained as a knife just appeared out of thin air into your hand

"I was snooping trying to find out more about you" gojo blurted out for god knows why in all fairness gojo could easily kill you in a heart beat are you know limit your moving space but he didn't and wouldn't simply because you were you.

"....creep" you muttered as the knife vanished which was impressive since the whole time gojo has been watching (stalking) you you've never seemed the one to be a jujutsu sorcerer of any type

"if you wanted to know me you could've just asked to know more about me not break into my house and go throw my stuff" you had a point there but where was all the fun in that?

"well to be fair if I just randomly came up to you and asked you questions about your self would you have answered?" gojo asks fidgeting in place

"if you asked yes " you responded simply shocking gojo

"anyways since I'm tired and your here and woke me up you've gotta sleep with me"

.....

......

.....

"sleep with you huh?" gojo says with a grin forming on his lips before a pillow came in contact with his face "not like that you pervert" you huffed and flopped back onto bed getting comfy as gojo walked over to you.

"does that offer still stand" he asked as you gave a simple nod and before you knew it you were being squished into his chest as he rubbed you back soothingly "your still a creep" you mutter and fall asleep

"your mine" gojo mumbled and then fell asleep

Ryomen Sukuna

since sukuna was a curse it wasn't really all that hard to get information about you yet he still found it hard very hard.

even as sukuna looked through your stuff he still couldn't find anything it was like you were a locked book nothing could get out

with that being said and done as sukuna looked through your stuff he could sense you were waking up he turned around as soon as you sat up and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes even though it didn't work

'shit shit shit' sukuna thought as he looked over at you. red eyes meeting half asleep e/c eyes. sukuna didn't care if anyone liked him or not but the thought of YOU hating him. it hurt, he didn't want the second person he loved to leave not again he couldn't lose you he just couldn't

sukuna walked over to you and cupped your cheeks "go back to sleep" he said basically pleading

what he didn't expect was for you to listen and go right back to sleep "he...went back to sleep?" sukuna muttered to himself as he gazed down at you he was surprised to say the least

you just caught someone in your home correction you just caught a curse in your house and you went back to sleep so easily ,

he stared at you for awhile waiting for you to realize there's someone in your house, it took you a minute are two but you finally did get someone was in your house and sat up

"who are you"

"sukuna"

you both looked at eachother before you hopped up "HOLY SHIT" you yelled as you got out your pocket knife.

"you sleep with a knife" sukuna asked surprised and impressed "you don't" you responded

after some more talking you and sukuna started getting along even tho you just caught him going through your stuff

"what's your favorite food?" sukuna asked as he had you in his lap playing with your h/c hair.

"f/c" you answered as he smiled

"you know you were quite calm when you first saw me in here why?" sukuna asked as you looked forward "well because you didn't come off as threat well not much of a threat" you answered "oh really" sukuna said as he moved his hands from you hair to you waist and started rubbing down

you didn't think much of it until his hands went inside your shirt and started playing with your nipples "ngh sukuna what are you doing" you half moaned out as his hands kept twisting and pulling at your hard nipples

and it ends here cause this is supposed to be fluff

[aziraphales-library]

hi, love y’all’s blog and all your hard work so dearly. i think I’ve read every crowley whump fic you’ve shared here, i love that trope but its much harder to find personally. im wondering if you have any more crowley whump oneshots, thank you so much

Hello! I'm glad you've been enjoying our #crowley whump tag! There are hundreds on the ao3 tag, too! Here are some more to add to our collection. Mind the tags and warnings, folks!...

Hot Pursuit by Anonymous (M)

While on a walk in the South Downs, Crowley is attacked by Hellhounds. Will Aziraphale be able to save him?

help me in my weakness. i'm falling out of grace by Bentley26 (T)

Prompt fill for Febuwhump Day 2: solitary confinement The War in Heaven was over. Lucifer and his rebellious angels had lost. Raphael was gathered up with the rest and thrown into a dark, featureless cell. He simply had to wait until they came back for him; then he could explain everything. They would come back for him... right? (Takes place right after the War, but before Crowley's actual Fall.)

Supplemental Summoning by ImagineThat0327 (T)

Somebody summons Crowley, believing him to be the demon that burned down the abbey belonging to the Order of Chattering Nuns eleven years ago. Crowley tries to make his case that he is, in fact, not the same demon as before, (damn you, Hastur!) but his summoner is having none of it. They are determined to make Crowley suffer a death just as dreadful as the ones the nuns suffered so long ago. Can Aziraphale come save Crowley in time? Or will Crowley burn, just like the abbey did so long ago? Whumptober prompt #9: Mistaken Identity

A Flat Circle by cassieoh_draws, EdosianOrchids901 (M)

Hell is full of rumors about demons vanishing and coming back haunted by whatever happened to them. Crowley isn’t convinced, but his opinion quickly changes when he’s summoned for the first time. Will Aziraphale rescue him?

You’re My Saving Grace by Bazzpop (T)

Pain seared through Crowley’s shoulder, pulsing sickeningly in time with the frantic beat of his unnecessary heart. That damn cowardly squire hadn’t even asked him for a proper duel, just snuck up behind him while he was making camp and lobbed a great bloody sword at his head. For Christ’s sake, he wasn’t even in any type of armor and didn’t have a sword on him, how was that supposed to be fair? — Crowley gets attacked with a blessed weapon, Aziraphale hears news of this and rushes to his aid.

may love thrive in hiding by Melime (M)

Only a few years after being given the Holy Water by Aziraphale, Crowley is faced with a threat he hadn't expected. He's summoned by a human wishing to gain eternal life, and that man won't take no for an answer. Meanwhile, Aziraphale overhears a conversation at an occult bookshop that makes him worry for Crowley. By the time Aziraphale finds him, Crowley is severely injured and may beyond hope for healing, but his love won't allow Aziraphale to stop trying. Can Aziraphale find a way to save him, or is he too late?

- Mod D

[adultish-momma]

Rose Thorns

Fighting monsters hits a lot different when the monster wears a face you know.

Funny how hard it is to break the cycle.

(Or the fic about Riddle's Overblot and the aftermath of that fight)

Warings!: gore, blood, violence, injury, near death experiences, parental abuse, controlling parental figure.

A/N: I found most of this draft in my phone notes app, so here I am bringing it to light. This one is a bit darker, but it's a scene I've had visualized for years now and needed to finally put down in writing. Please mind the trigger warnings. Again, this is a fic specifically about Riddle's Overblot and his Trauma Dump(tm) chapter, so if any of those scenes bother you in the offical game, do yourself a favor and skip this one.

And as always, if you think I've missed a warning, please let me know. Thank you!

They say that when you're knocking on death's door, the world looses its colors. Life quite literally seems to bleed out of everything you can see, leaving a grayscale mockery in its wake. There's probably a scientific reason for it, something to do with "primary functions". Some people wax poetic about the experience, weaving romantic words to paint a bleak moment with some measure of sense. There's lots of different interpretations of what goes on behind this phenomenon, this almost universal experience.

The rose garden had fallen into an ashy wasteland, grays and whites and blacks interrupted only by splashes of crimson red. Riddle's red hair, his glowing red eye, and the roses dripping with a suspicious red liquid. (The stench of copper and decay did little to disguise what that liquid could be). Even the Heartslabyul students that stayed behind to help knock some sense into their wayward leader were slowly draining of color, the looming shadow of the ink monster steadily darkening their bright visages.

Yuu wondered if the world looking so gray was new to Riddle, or if this is how his black and white upbringing had always altered his perception of the way things were.

The prefect wasn't supposed to be here. Crowley had personally escorted (read: dragged) them out in the initial wave of evacuation from the Heartslabyul dimension. But with so much panic going on, it was easy to slip back through the mirror. Easy to fight upstream through the crowd to return to the fight. All they had to think about was who was left behind, and suddenly returning to fight an impossible fight was an easy decision.

They thought of Trey and Cater, fighting for the life of their friend, two upperclassmen who accepted this random magicless student and monstrous feline (no matter what their motives might have been). They thought of Ace, Deuce, and Grim, facing yet another monster, this time with a face they recognized, with a face they respected. They thought of Riddle, a tyrant born from only knowing abusive love, angry and hurting and dying.

Choosing to come back and help was easy. What was hard was trying to figure out how to help.

The monster behind the House Warden roared, solidifying its inky shape the longer it fed on Riddle's magic. It was almost as if the giant caricature of the Queen of Hearts was using Riddle Rosehearts as a conduit for its own power. Wait... magical conduit... your magestone completely tainted with blot...

Holy shit his magestone.

The Ramshackle Prefect frantically searched the Overblotted form of the Heartslabyul Dorm Leader with their eyes, hoping to easily spot the stone. No such luck. They turned their gaze to their friends, hoping to let somebody know this battle changing, tide turing information. That's when they saw him.

Grim, lying haphazardly on the edge of the battlefield. Rosehearts must have flung him. His blue flames were flickering, small tendrils of blue slowly turning gray. He looked so unlike the lively character they've been rooming with the past week, now he looked small, vulnerable, fragile.

The flame in one of Grim's ears snuffs out.

They need to act. Now.

There's no thought behind Yuu's next move, not really, there's no time. People are going to die. And if Riddle Rosehearts lives to see tomorrow, he's going to live with being a murderer if they don't do something right exactly the fuck now.

Riddle had been defending himself from the mages in the garden. You know, the people who posed an actual threat to him. He never even registed the prefect on the sidelines. The red-head was not expecting to get physically tackled from his blindside.

Yuu is desperately trying to pin the very dangerous mage beneath them while simultaneously searching for his magestone. Ink coils around the boy, tightly constricting around his ribcage. Almost like a corset. And something pulses and glows just beneath the faux corset. They have their fingers reaching, pushing past all that insidious black and-

A scream rips from Yuu's throat, pain searing through their left thigh, and the previously grayscale world implodes with color.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yuu has been having some strange dreams ever since they've arrived in Twisted Wonderland, but this one has to take the cake.

They watch as if through a sepia-tinted screen Riddle Rosehearts grow up under his mother's watchful eye. They see the moment he meets Trey and Chenya. It's almost like a movie, it even sounds as if Riddle is narrating his tragic backstory.

Something in them sparks as Riddle's mother berates him for eating that strawberry tart. Maybe it's just her tone, or the look on Riddle's face, or heck maybe it has something to do with their own shrouded past in their old world, but they can't just passively watch anymore.

"Shut up!" The words echo in the dreamspace, loud and commanding. Both mother and son pause, bewilderment taking over their faces. The voice of the Riddle they know now even quiets, and as the prefect steps in front of the young boy, everything in the memory comes to a standstill.

The Ramshackle Prefect begins arguing with Dr. Rosehearts, snarling and ferocious in their pursuit to protect the young Riddle of this realm. And the real Riddle? He's watching this all. He's watching how Yuu keeps physically blocking his mother from coming any nearer to his younger self. He's watching as the magicless student that publically humiliated him earlier that week, humilitaed him because they were able to keep their cool when he was not, he watches as they lose their composure. He hears them when they say:

"Rules are meant to keep people safe! But this? This is about control and abuse. It doesn't help Riddle, all it does is turn you into a monster."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Riddle wakes up with a start, eyes flying open and darting, hands twitching like he's looking for something.

"Riddle!!" Trey appears in his line of sight, breathless and shaking but looking relieved. Cater's bright orange hair also pops into view, but this upperclassman still looks stressed, looking between his House Warden and something over Trey's shoulder.

"Your back," Trey says, pressing hands against the sophmore's body to make sure he was, in fact, alright. "We thought you might never wake up."

"Wha-"

"Hench-human come on! This isn't funny anymore!"

"Shit this is so much blood, fuck my jacket's soaked through."

"Move over, we have to apply pressure to both ends of the wound."

"No shit Juice, but there's a fucking hole through their leg -"

"WAKE UP YUU! Please, please, please wake up"

Riddle doesn't want to look, doesn't want to see the carnage. He still sees them as they were in his dream-memory, strong and sturdy, able to withstand his biggest fear without a second thought.

But this is Yuu, his Yuu. So he turns around, because he needs to see them with his own eyes.

What he sees makes him want to vomit.

Ace and Deuce are crouched by the prefect's legs, the boys' jackets wrapped tight around Yuu's right leg. Jackets that are now more red than white. Grim is frantically pawing at Yuu's face, tears soaking into his fur. And Yuu?

Yuu is pale, paler than they've ever been. Lips turning blue. Their chest is expanding, thank the Seven, but just barely, and not as often as it should be. And shattered on the ground around them, some shards still lodged in their closed fist, is Riddle's black magestone.

Riddle watches, numb to everything around him. Eyes fixed on his broken magestone. He doesn't notice Trey trying to talk to him, doesn't register Ace screaming at him, he only comes back to when Cater loads Yuu up on his broom and takes off.

Riddle picks up on of the shards left behind, black, nasty, angry magic still faintly pulsing from the stone. Magic that almost killed him today. Anger that has been killing him his whole life.

Yuu saved him today, in more ways than one.

Riddle pockets the shard, placing it in his breast pocket, right above his still aching heart. A reminder of their sacrifice. A reminder to earn their sacrifice when they wake up.

And a reminder to look into all those Heartslabyul rules and maybe, just maybe, update them. Afterall, rules are there to keep those he loves safe.

[howlingday]

I will like if Jaune is Adrian's donor and Pyrrha was alive and with Jaune. Pyrrha would were an " I am not the step mom I am the mom who stepped up shirt" and take a ton of selfies in it while holding Adrian.

I love this idea, I really do, but just so you know, the reason what you're about to see is because "I'm the mom who stepped up" reminded me of my favorite character from my absolutely favorite podcast.

I present to you and all the good folks at home,

Pyrrha Nikos as Ron Stampler

=================================

Blake: So what is Pyrrha Nikos' plan for Adrian Cotta Arc?

Pyrrha: Adrian...? Oh! Adrian! Cotta! Arc!

Blake: You step-son.

Pyrrha: Yeah! I'm making him some instant oatmeal because that's what he asked for. But then Jaune pointed out that I need to put water in with the oatmeal, and I can't just put the packet in the bowl. Which, uh, is really getting into the nitty-gritty there, and I don't exactly need that extra flourish, but I'll do it anyway, because I love my step-son. Adrian. Cotta. Arc.

Blake: Pyrrha?

Pyrrha: Yeah?

Blake: Adrian hasn't been at the table for the last hour.

Pyrrha: Oh... Then I guess somebody's not getting their instant oatmeal.

Pyrrha: Arin- Adrian? Adrian? Where are you at... buddy?

Adrian: (Outside) Uuuuuuugh...

Pyrrha: Mommy? I mean, Adrian? Is that you?

Blake: You should probably head outside and check.

Pyrrha: (Sees Adrian) Hey, Adrian. I know that... I haven't been there for you. Because I wasn't married to your husband- MY husband, your dad, before you were born to your moms, who both died and I've written several pages of words, trying to emote on paper what I can't always do in person. And I'm working on that.

=================================

Pyrrha: (Knocks on the door) Uh, hi, Oscar! It's me, Pyrrha Nikos, noted supporter of men and-

Oscar: (Door swings open, Haggard) I'm... I've been trying my best to make magical weapons for you, but it's just... there's so much I have to put into just one part of each weapon and-

Pyrrha: That's great! I appreciate you and your hard work!

Oscar: ...Yeah, no, I'm very convinced by that. You sound like a real ally. What the fuck do you want?

Pyrrha: Uh, I was wondering if you could help me... again?

Oscar: ...Wow. Huge surprise. What is it?

Pyrrha: I was wondering if I could talk to that doctor you menioned. That "Doctor Not Oz"?

Oscar: (Actually surprised) Oh! Uh, yeah, sure, just come on in, get comfortable, okay?

Pyrrha: Should I close the door?

Oscar: Yeah, yeah, please close the door. I'll just grab Doctor Not Oz.

Pyrrha: Should I sit on the couch, or...

Oscar: Sit wherever you want. Just be comfortable.

Pyrrha: (Sits down)

Oscar: (Magically dyes hair white)

Oscar: (Pulls out crooked glasses)

Oscar: (Puts on buttoned, green coat)

Oscar: (Sits, Reaches out hand) Hi, it's nice to meet you. I'm Doctor Not Oz.

Pyrrha: Uh, so, my name is Pyrrha Nikos.

Oscar: Pyrrha, I am so glad to see you here. Attending therapy is very important, if not the most important first step to admitting you need help. Everything you say between us is strictly confidential. Let's talk about your mother.

Pyrrha: That's actually the biggest thing to get into right away for me, so-

Oscar: Okay, okay! That's fine! Let's talk about anything else. How are you feeling right now?

Pyrrha: Scared of my mom.

=================================

Yang: (Walks out of the woods) Oh, uh, hey, P-Money! How's, uh... How's it going?

Pyrrha: (On the verge of tears) Uh... It's going.

Yang: I was gonna help Ruby make some weapons. You want in?

Pyrrha: Sometimes, I feel like my emotions are the weapons!

Yang: Come here, Pyrrha! (Hugs, Cries)

Pyrrha: (Hugs, Cries)

Nora: (Comes out of the woods, Instantaneously hugs and cries) I don't know what we're hugging and crying about, but I am in!

Weiss: (Struts out of the woods) Hey, guys, good news! I fucked so much that I'm no longer able to be one-shotted!

Pyrrha: Holy shit...

[americanpeoplescareme]

Writing prompt quotes

A bunch of quotes, give me suggestions and you can use these prompt quotes and they will be in the story

◦•●◉✿ _______________ ✿◉●•◦

Can I come over?

I've never met somebody as perfect as you

I need you

I got you flowers, I remember you told me these are your favorites

When can I see you again?

You're my everything

There's not a thing about you I would change

I'd be nothing without you

Come here

Sorry, I shouldn't have done that!

Holy hot chick (cringing rn)

So can we go out tonight?

Please come with us

Your so gorgeous

We should hangout

That outfit looks perfect on you

You're to sweet

I've never felt like this before

Don't worry, they won't find out

Can you do me a favor?

I don't know where to start

Can you please help me?

Can you tell me about it?

Should I go?

You are and always will be my love

I hate you.

We should go

I'm in love

Good morning, you look nice

Goodnight, I can't wait to see you in the morning

Bye, I'll see you soon

Hey! I missed you

◦•●◉✿ _______________ ✿◉●•◦

If you want me to add anything let me know and again if u want any of these prompts reach me any way you please

[sssusuki]

How long has Ivan been wasting himself at this bar? His mind is a little mush, trying to drown out the thoughts in his head. He had recently gone on a date with Till, somebody he had been trying to charm for what was probably years now— and he probably just messed it all up by teasing the poor man when he admitted he hit a police officer with a guitar.

Now, here he is wasting his sorrows away and probable rejection from the man in a few hours. Oh, lord, he wasn't prepared. His head fell to the counter and he almost feels like sleeping, anything to get away and into his fantasies right now.

The bell to the bar chimes and he doesn't take note of it as he begins to doze off. The glass that is now empty with melting ice seems to mock him as he swears he can see Till in the glass reflection.

He musters a groan. Great, now even his mind is making fun of his rejection, "Hey, Ivan? That you?" The familiar voice rings and Ivan swears he sobers up on the spot.

"Oh, uh," Ivan licks his chapped lips. Oh lord. Till is wearing a loose t-shirt that shows his collarbones and all that previous alcohol is not helping his situation, "Hey, what are you doing here?" Ivan attempts to salvage what little charm he has left after this night as he makes a toothy smile.

Till only cackles at this, "Hey to you to, and I am here to see you, y'know that right?" Till has that cheeky look in his eye, like he is about to do something rebellious. Ivan always loved that look on him. He found it irresistible. Wait, what did he say?

"Wait, what?" Ivan finally, completely sobers up as he lifts himself up off the counter that he was sure he was drooling on, and good God does he kind of wish he wasn't such a mess right now.

"Yeah, you kind of just dipped on our date after you made that joke. You do know I was laughing at it because it was funny, not demeaning, right?" He seems to make an expression that says, You do understand, right? And goodness does he understand now.

"Yeah, mhm," Ivan immediately straightens up because that is exactly what he thought, "You wanna sit down?" Ivan says, hoping to everything that is holy that his desperation isn't showing.

Till doesn't even respond he simply sits right next to him on one of the precariously leaning stools and orders some sort of fruity, non-alcoholic drink before turning back to him.

"Soo..." Ivan begins, realizing how awkward it is as Till waits for the bartender to make his drink, "What?" Till asks, "Unless we are continuing that conversation about the incident, which, by all means continue," Till laughs. It's very melodic, almost harmonious as Ivan can swear he sees stars.

Yeah not the time to be in lala land.

"Well, to begin," He tries to smooth out his ever wrinkling white button up as he tries to come up with some witty comeback, "Are you sure that all that caused you to hit the guy with a guitar was him trying to sing during Karaoke?" Ivan seems to relax a little bit into the conversation, unconsciously leaning his bodyweight towards the boy, "I seriously think that was just a little bit overkill," Ivan giggles.

"Well, it was in the heat of the moment!" Till puffs, "I was singing and suddenly he was interrupting me so I hit him with my guitar." Till grins.

Oh lord, Ivan is so wasted he can barely keep up with the conversation and is trying his hardest not to focus on Till's lips. This isn't good.

"Well, uh," Ivan can feel himself licking his lips, he realizes how chapped they are and wishes he bought some chapstick before this.

"Well?" Till nudges Ivan with his shoulder and Ivan swears he spirals for a hot second. Were Till's lips always so soft looking?

Ivan audibly gulps as Till snorts, "I guess the alcohol is too in your system? I've never seen you so loose?" Ivan can only nod, not trusting his mouth to not try and connect with Till's.

Suddenly he feels a pair of hands around his waist hoist him up out of the chair. It's Till.

"We're gonna get you home, okay?" Till innocently says and Ivan feels like exploding on the spot to hide his visible embarrassment.

"Okay." Is all Ivan can say as Till, much stronger than he looks, practically carries Ivan out of the bar.

The cold, crisp air of the city is one to marvel at since it's usually so humid at night that you start sweating when you leave. This particular bar is a little hidden, but nonetheless gorgeous with all the neon lights around.

Ivan droops his head onto Till's shoulder as the boy seems busy finding them a cab. He recognizes that he and Till are settled down into a car just a few moments after, but all Ivan really focuses on is being able to hold Till. It seemed after Till finally got his big gig for some band as their guitarist, they never got to hang out anymore, and then when the date spontaneously happened, it was fumbled immediately. But goodness, did he just miss Till's affection and comfort the most. The boy's loud and exciting nature always comforted Ivan. Perhaps it was because he was nothing like that, perhaps it was because he always wanted to be like that. Who knows.

He recognizes that Till asks him where his apartment is as he lazily— and very slowly— says the address. Hoping to stay with Till even just a little bit longer.

Ivan wraps his hands around Till's neck is his half-asleep stupor as he nuzzles his head closer in the crook of Till's neck. He feels two hands hug him around the back as Till's head settles onto his own, and finally Ivan felt like the date went well, even if he dipped an hour into it because he embarrassed himself. It went well.

And yeah, he could get used to this. Very used to this.

[alchemist-shizun]

I was waiting you've been waiting ... MYATB final ep live reaction!

Somehow even later than last night, not only did I work for 6 hours again, I have guests over, but with no further ado let's begin!

first off i am terrified, somehow, even if im sure everything will be fine

STARTING OFF STRONG WITH THE HUAIBAO FANCAM. Does anybody look at first episodes Xiaobao expressions and how much of a genuine happy and warm smile he had, and now it's been SO LONG since we've seen one. Healthy happiness where are you?

Also. If I had a nickel for each time a danmei character falls off a cliff i'd be fucking rich let's BE REAL

lil meowmeow ...

XIAOBAO IS LOOKING FOR THE PENDANT SOMEBODY HOLD ME BACK

IT'S SOMEONE ELSE'S BLOOD XIAOBAO NO WORRIES this is so funny to me

Su Yin it's your turn for some character development come on I believe in you I know you won't disappoint me COME ON

My main question is why make him suffer so much things can be fixed so easily. so easily. oh my god.

Internally I'm also laughing a bit because Su Yin is just saying THIS MAN RUINED YOUR LIFE AND U WANT HIM BACK JUST HOW GOOD WAS THE DICK TELL ME. TELL ME

look at him, moisturized, in his lane, i dont know how the rest of the meme goes but you get it

OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. YOU NEED TWO PEOPLE WITH STRONG INTERNAL FORCES. OH MY G O D u mean to tell me both Huai'en and Su Yin need to help him, this makes my ot3 mind go insane. This is beautiful, thank you Que Siming, again, he fixes everything, he is insane

NNNNNNNNNNnNnNnim goinG INSANEEEEE SIMING'S LIL be careful TO JINBAOOOOOOOOOOOOO STOPPPPPP IM SO SOFTTTTTTTT WEEPS WEEPS WEEEEEEEEEEEEEPS.

A few words for Xiaobao in this scene because holy shit. My boy is wholly desperate he'd do anything just to let Huai'en live, his feelings have been a mess for so long but he still finds it in himself to care about him so deeply he's better than any of us

This entire drama has been either of them in bed suffering and the other watching over, beautiful

holy fucking shit they FINALLY kissed. I'm going insane. THEIR HANDS!! THEYRE SO SOFT. Huai'en looks so cute after being kissed, they're so I'm so insane. my children.

i love my sick wife (literally either of them)

THEIR LITTLE SMILESSSS THEYRE SO SOFT AND VULNERABLE I WILL CRY

"swear to god if u and i become like this i give you permission to kill me" the most homophobic gay ever

I think he might really be one of my favourite characters I swear. Give an award to his actor. he is so disgusted by everything I love him

OH WOW OKAY. BATH TIME? Oh my god Su Yin and Huai'en. Here we go. My immediate response is "just kiss about it" but I don't think they will. Their tension would bleed out so easily

OOOO ZHAOCAI'S A MEANIEEEEEEEEEE

huaibao: having a small moment. Su Yin: THIS AINT ABOUT YOU!! i love them all, good god, he is hilarious, his jealousy is visible from three hundred miles

The healing process is so interesting to watch, I could just stare at them work for hours

WHY IS THIS GUY STILL HERE. WHAT. Thats a lot of food for a prisoner. TELL HIM LI GONGXIANG. HE IS SO AWESOME. God I ucking hate this guy.WHY ARE THEY LEAVING HIS CELL DOOR OPEN

HAPPY LITTLE THINGS

"Who am I to be mad at you?" I KNEW ITTTTTT I KNEW YOU'D CAVE SU YIN I LOVE U. WOOOOOOOOO

Heeeeeeeeere comes the cocklockkkk

MY TRIO OF WONDERS TWT <3 MAN the best dumbass trio ever

this is so fucking funny those two are lounging and there the others go being dramatic

im going to cry over su yin and xiaobao's bond again? yes. i am.

Thank u for calling that man a freak xiaobao

SHAOYU?? also this is the first time I see some actual help for starving people, that's a nice touch.

That was the stupidest interaction ever thank you shaoyu

oh he knows. he knows.

XIAOYU EXTERIOR DESIGN PASSION

THE SHADOWS MOVED IN WITH THEM ZHAOCAI NO LONGER ALONE. Also the matching headpieces!

THEY SAVED HIM TWT SHADOWS MY BELOVEDSSSSS

HUAI'EN IS SO HAPPY ABOUT BEING HIS WIFE

xiaoyu istg- HFAHAHAHA SHES DOING IT ON PURPOS. WE'RE ALL LAUGHING AT THEM LIKE ZHAOCAI

PLEASE IM NEARLY CRYINGNFDSAJAHAHAH

HE CANNOT BE JEALOUS ABOUT SU YIN AFTER HE PROPOSED FSJ

NOOOOOOOO WDYM THATS IT??????? NOOOOOOOOO THEY BARELY GOT USED TO EACH OTHERS SMILE. AND NOW IT'S OVER TWT NOOOOOO well that was a wild ride

I dont know what it is about danmei novels and NOT SHOWING ME THEIR WEDDINGS!!! I WANT TO SEE THEM!!

Anyway. WE REACHED THE END. WOW. Insane. Incredible work to all who worked hard to give us our first uncensored Chinese bl, may it pave the path to many more! I had fun waiting for episodes each week, hadn't felt this elated in a long time. I'm sad I cannot look forward to more, but I might get inspired and create some art or fics for this series, who knows owo the actors are too pretty to pass on.

I'm extremely glad we got that Su Yin acceptance arc I have been mentioning, Shaoyu hasn't gotten more bearable but ig he has to mature yet. Xiaoyu was an icon all episode, I must admit, Zhaocai has found his new partner in crime. I also dearly missed Jinbao and Siming as soon as they left :( their energies were something stupendous. I also liked that Huai'en did not go back to see his foster father, he didn't give him the fucking satisfaction. As it should be.

I'm not smart enough to make much more introspection so I think this is where I'll leave it! Come talk to me if you too have nobody to discuss this series with lmao, askbox is always open. Time for a deepdive into the tag now. I hope I see more of this soon!

A big pat on the back to all those of us who suffered to this day. WORTH IT WORTH IT.

HAVE A GOOD NIGHT

[lover-also-fighter-also]

Incorrect quotes

Some incorrect quotes made with this generator for my MC's. Hope you like it!

Tagging @choicesmc

Anitha: Stop doing that. Griffin: Stop doing what? Anitha: Saying things that make me wanna kiss the hell out of you.

Flynn : Tanya , you love me, right? Tanya : Normally I’d say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere I won’t like.

Aurora : Fight me! Harshith : gets on one knee and pulls out a ringHarshith : Fight me for the rest of our lives.

Maria: Can I have your number? Ria, visible texting: I don't have a phone.

Mila : You have an impressive pain tolerance. Skye : Thanks, it's the trauma.

Anitha : Where’s Atlas? Zeph: Doing stuff. Anitha: I don’t like the sound of that. Where’s Shreya? Zeph: Trying to stop Atlas from doing the stuff. Anitha: And Griffin? Zeph: Trying to stop Shreya from stopping Atlas from doing the stuff. Anitha: I see. And what are you doing here, Zeph? Zeph: I’m supposed to stop you from stopping Griffin from stopping Shreya from stopping Atlas from doing the stuff.

Tanya: I woke up and chose VIOLENCE. I WILL COMMIT ARSON AND BURN EVERYTHING TO THE GROUND!!! I AM ANGRY- Flynn : Awwww, you’re so adorable! Give me a hug~ Tanya : Wh-What? nO, yOURE SUPPOSED TO BE SCARED OF ME! TREMBLE BEFORE MY WRATH- Grant, recording: This is so cute.

Harshith, being robbed: Please! Have mercy! I have a family! A wife and kids… a dog… Jackie: Literally none of that is true, Harshith. Harshith : Okay, but I’m sexy! That’s gotta count for something, right?

Emma: Ooh, somebody has a crush Ria: Pfft, I don’t have a crush on Maria I just think they’re cool, it’s not like I stay up at night thinking about her. *Later that night* Ria, very much awake: Uh oh.

Mila : It's pretty cold outside.. wanna hold hands? We should stay close. Skye, blushing: Okay. Ajay: It's fucking summer.

Anitha : You were wise to seek help from the world's most deadly weapon. Anitha : It's me. Tanya: I’m not like other girls. I’m way, way worse.

Harshith: I would never say that my partner is a bitch and I don’t don’t like them. That’s not true… My partner is a bitch and I like them so much!

Ria: I would never say that my partner is a bitch and I don’t don’t like them. That’s not true… My partner is a bitch and I like them so much!

Mila : Pros and cons of dating me. Mila : Pros. You'll be the cute one. Mila : Cons. Holy shit, where do I begin-

In response to receiving a gift Skye : You didn’t have to get this for me… Maria : S-stupid! Now I HAVE to get you something! Flynn : Th-thanks, but why? Griffin: Oh my! I can’t accept a gift like this! Aurora: Did you keep the receipt?

[gigi-the-writer]

I have a bunch more ramblings, (and if I ever turn the cai as a whole into a whole fic I’ll be sure to tag you!) but the lowdown of it is basically:

If you ask me, I think the ending of episode 6 was…pretty sad, actually. We don’t see the aftermath of how Flug handles the heartbreak, but the assistant would get a front row seat. He still reflects fondly on their past memories before everything went downhill, and the poor assistant is still trying to pick up his slack bc he’s so fucking scattered and messy now- all while still being very much in love with him. They’re like her polar opposite though, and just figure they’re not his type. They will nod along and listen to him rant (if they hear how silky smooth her hair is when their own is a mess, or how she just lit up a room when they’re far more reserved ONE MORE TIME-)

But they still try to help him out where they can, often working double time so BH doesn’t get pissed, until some 3rd party clues him in (either 505 or Dem) that hey; they’re gonna run themselves into the ground for you. Sorry about your ex and all, but just thought you should know you’re supposed to be a team damn it.

Somebody cares about him! Holy shit!!! How did he not see it? They even picked him up from the prison visit to get takeout and watch the new top gun together knowing damn well he’d talk through the whole thing. They didn’t do that out of pity or obligation, they did it out of love! All the little gestures are coming back to him. “I memorized your coffee order” here, “I taped that show you like so you don’t have to miss it” there-

And over time he starts to open his heart again and move on 😭 good ending! But yeah I thought the idea of healing being nonlinear was an interesting motif to explore, especially when the assistant sees it in real time everyday at work. They’re not helping him out in hopes that they can be next in line to date him, they’re doing it selflessly because romantic or not, they still care about him! And maybe that day comes when he realizes he feels the same, and seeks them out first ❤️‍🩹

GRRRR GRRRR *RIPS THIS APART WITH MY TEETH VIOLENTLY* THATS THE GOOD STUFF