#if you want me to go further into anything you can ask (^-^)

[sweetheartspence]

✰ mind over matter - s.r. ✰

Spencer thinks you hate him. That couldn't be further from the truth.

pairing: spencer reid x bau!reader

genre: fluff

content: idiots in love, a little bit of miscommunication, reader is anxious, gn!reader i think, mutual pining, garcia the matchmaker, not proofread

wc: 1.4k

a/n: in second person this time :) i hope you all enjoy, let me know your thoughts! requests are open :D likes and reblogs appreciated! dividers by @/saradika-graphics - thank you!

Spencer is not good for your head.

Every time he's in the room, your brain stops working. Just- flatlines. No activity. All you can do is stare, stumble over yourself, blush, and eventually flee from the room in a panic.

It's his fault, really. With his stupid big brown eyes and his stupid hair and his stupid hands and his stupid voice, and the way his eyebrow crinkles at the halfway point when he's thinking really hard about something. And the way the corners of his mouth turn down when he's thought of something that he thinks is funny, but thinks no one else will find amusing, and the way that his collar is never quite straight. He's always around, always trying to strike up conversation, and it's infuriating.

Not because you don't want to talk to him. Because you do. Because you do, and you can't.

You're stirring a spoonful of sugar into your second cup of tea of the day when Spencer walks into the break room. His collar is slightly askew, his purple tie a little bit crooked (and, you think, knotted wrong), and he's carrying his mug. You know it's his because it's patterned with the periodic table. If that wasn't a dead giveaway, it's specially labelled with his name on the bottom.

He flashes you a smile, and your heart seizes. You're pretty sure you look like a deer in headlights, your eyes wide and a little panicked.

Spencer stops in front of you, and you're pretty sure you've died. You've died, and this is your heaven- or purgatory, maybe, since you still can't get your mouth to work.

"You're standing in front of the coffee maker." His voice is smooth and uncertain, a little amused, matching the quirk of his lips.

Your mind blue screens. "That- I- um, yeah. I am." You make no motion to move, and he tilts his head, like a curious puppy.

"Would you, um... mind moving?" Spencer asks, blinking at you. You let out a squeak, and duck out of the way, your cheeks beginning to flame.

"Sorry! I, uh, that's- yeah." You manage, intelligently, before bolting out of the break room and back to your desk. You've just gotten to your desk when you realize that you've forgotten your tea in the break room, freshly brewed and now abandoned on the counter. You sigh, pushing your chair back, making your way over to Garcia's lair of computers.

Spencer is pretty sure you hate him.

You're decently new to the BAU, having been there under a year, and at first, he thought you were jut shy. You were awkward around the entire team, not just him. But as the weeks passed, you became smiley, articulate, and entirely endearing, with everyone except for him.

With him, you're... different, to say the least. He clearly makes you uncomfortable, if the flushed cheeks and inability to meet his eye is anything to go by. There's moments he thinks he might be getting through to you, when you nod along with one of his statistics during briefings, or try to hide a smile at one of his nerdy jokes. But then he tries to talk to you directly, and you shut down again.

And Spencer just had to develop feelings for you. The one person in his life that can't stand being in the same room as him for longer than necessary. He's not the type to spend time and energy on people who clearly don't want to be around him, but you... there's something different about you.

When he approaches you in the break room, you give your stuttered answer, followed by your usual quick departure. He hadn't even wanted coffee, if he was being completely honest. He had just wanted a chance to talk to you.

Spencer sighs, leaning his hands on the counter and hanging his head. And then he notices your tea, left on the counter. He glances into the bullpen, but you're not at your desk. Spencer hesitates, before picking up the mug and bringing it over to your desk. He takes one of the pens out of your cup, a purple one, and writes a quick note, leaving it with your tea.

"You need to figure out how to talk to him," Garcia is saying, but you're barely listening, having heard this spiel at least a dozen times from her. You roll your eyes.

"I'm trying, Pen, I am," you mumble, fidgeting with one of the trinkets she has proudly displayed on her desk. "It's like I lose all control of my mouth when I'm around him. I can't... make it work." You set the trinket down, sitting back in your seat.

Garcia sighs, clicking her tongue. "The two of you are hopeless, honestly," she mutters, her manicured nails clicking on her keyboard.

You wrinkle your nose indignantly, giving her a look. "What? No," you protest. "We work fine together, so it's not like it even matters."

"You do," she agrees, looking over at you for a second and wiggling her eyebrows. "But you could work together so much better. And in much different ways."

Her innuendo isn't lost on you, and you narrow your eyes. "What, you think this stupid crush is even going to go anywhere?" You grumble.

"He likes you too." It's not a question, but a definitive statement. You blink.

"He told you that?" You ask.

"Well, no, but..." Garcia trails off for a moment, tapping a nail against her teeth. "C'mon, we can all tell. You need to just-"

"Okay, well, thank you for your delusions," you interrupt, pushing your chair back and standing up. "Gotta get back to work. You know how it is."

"Not delusions," she calls back, as you start to walk back to the bullpen. "Observations."

You consider this as you walk back. Observations. Maybe he feels it too? Or maybe, you've ruined any chance you might have had by being completely socially inept around him. Would it even change anything if you knew he liked you? Would you be able to make your mouth work, say something that didn't sound like you were speaking English for the first time?

You're still pondering the possibility when you sit down at your desk.

There's a mug. Your mug. And a note.

"Sorry for scaring you out of the break room. You forgot something. S.R."

You stare at the note, at the purple pen, at the loops and smudges on the paper. There's a smiley face haphazardly drawn in the bottom corner, and it's so Spencer that it makes your heart ache.

That's it, you decide. You have to do something.

In an uncharacteristic show of bravery, you take a breath, pushing back from the chair and standing up, making your way over to his desk. Spencer is bent over a case file, his glasses low on the bridge of his nose.

"You didn't," you say, a bit too loudly, and you finch at the volume of your own voice. Spencer startles, looking up from his work.

"What?"

"You didn't," you repeat, at a more normal volume. You can feel your cheeks start to burn, but you push on. "Scare me. Out of the break room, I mean."

He blinks up at you owlishly. "Oh. Then why did you-"

"I like you," you blurt. You can't help it. The blush creeps down your neck, across your chest under your sweater. Spencer stares. "Like, I like like you. Which make me sound like I'm in third grade, but I just-" You let out a heavy breath, your shoulders shrugging helplessly. "I get all tongue tied, around you. You make me... you make me nervous." Your voice gets quieter as you go on, and Spencer's heart swells.

"Yeah?" He asks, tilting his head, fighting back a smile.

"Yeah," you manage, nodding meekly. "And you don't have to... say anything. I just wanted you to... to know." You turn on your heel, then, intending to go back to your desk, but a hand catches yours. Spencer's slender fingers wrap around your wrist, halting you in place.

"Your tea is probably cold by now," Spencer says, his voice soft. His gaze is intense, but gentle, full of affection. "Let me buy you a new one."

Butterflies flood through your stomach, and you manage a very shy smile, giving a little nod. "Um, like... just hanging out, or.."

He laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Like a date. If you'd want."

You nod again, completely breathless. "Yeah. Yeah, um.. that's good. Great, even. Yeah."

"I think we're gonna have to work on these nerves around me," Spencer teases. He smiles at you, soft and fond, and tugs on your hand.

"Let's get you that tea."

[dismalflo]

can i request a remus x insecure reader who feels like she isn’t enough to deserve their relationship?

hi darling, thank you for requesting! i hope you enjoy <3

remus lupin x reader who thinks they should break up ✩ 1k words

cw: angst, tiny bit of fluff at the end, insecure/depressed reader

Something’s wrong. It’s in the way your shoulders sit high and tense, the restless shifting of your hands, the faint crease of worry etched between your brows. Remus notices how your eyes flit to him every so often, and each time, he pretends to read a book he hasn't turned a page of in minutes.

A quiet mix of concern and confusion stirs in his chest, just beginning to surface, when your voice slices through the silence—soft, fragile.

“I think we should break up.”

The world shifts. Everything around him narrows, shrinks, chills. You sink further into the cushions beside him, retreating inward, and Remus watches with wide, disbelieving eyes. His heart stumbles as he sets the unread book gently on the coffee table, his fingers trembling.

He swallows, throat thick. When he speaks, his voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper.

“Why… why would you say that?” The words scrape against his throat, shaky with disbelief. “What happened?”

You draw your knees closer, shoulders curling forward. You don’t meet his gaze, and the small movement of turning away feels like a knife to his chest. Remus leans in slightly, as though closing the space between you could keep whatever this is from slipping further out of reach. The pressure behind his eyes builds.

“I just…” Your voice falters, lip caught between your teeth. “I just think it’d be for the best.”

Remus reels, emotions crashing hard—hurt, confusion, but above all, fear. Fear that he’s already lost you without knowing it. A wall has risen between you, quiet and invisible, but now impossible to ignore. You’ve always had moments where you retreat, but this? This feels different. You look… hollow. Like something’s drained the light from you, and it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

In another moment, in another fight, maybe he’d reach out. Maybe you'd lean in, and this would all melt away. But now, his hands stay frozen in his lap. Instead, he fumbles for words.

“I don’t understand, dove,” he says finally, the nickname catching faintly in his throat. His voice is low, tender, uncertain. “Where’s this coming from?”

You don’t answer right away. Your fingers twist together in your lap. Then, so quiet he nearly misses it:

“Do you not get sick of me?”

His breath catches, sharp. For a moment, he’s not sure he heard you right. Your voice—so quiet, so broken—hits him harder than anything else could have.

"Sick of you?" He repeats, as if testing the words in his mouth, his mind struggling to comprehend. The confusion on his face deepens as he shifts closer. 

“No. I could never…” He trails off, struggling, voice fraying at the edges. “I don’t know what’s going on inside your head right now, but sick of you?” He shakes his head slowly. “That’s not something I could ever feel.”

You shake your head in return. The look in your eyes nearly undoes him.

“I just… I don’t think I’m a good partner,” you say, each word like a stone in your chest. “Not for someone like you. I feel like I’m holding you back—from someone who could give you everything you deserve.”

The breath leaves Remus’s lungs like a punch. Your words crack something deep in him, something tender and unguarded. He wants to reach for you, to insist you’re wrong, but he knows shouting down your pain won’t fix this.

So he chooses quiet.

“Do you expect me to be perfect?” he asks, voice low.

You look up fast, startled. “Wha– No!” you exclaim, eyes wide, cheeks damp.

Remus gives a soft, broken laugh — not unkind, just weary. “Then why would I expect that from you?” he murmurs.

He waits, watches the way that the question settles. Your lips part like you want to argue, to resist, but nothing comes. Your hands still in your lap. You look smaller somehow—like the weight you’ve been carrying has been pressing down for too long.

Remus leans in, just slightly, his voice still quiet, careful. “You think you're holding me back, but dove, that’s not– I love you. A lot. And I don't know what I’d do without you sometimes– most of the time.”

Your mouth opens, trembling, and for a second it looks like no words will come. But then they do, choked out through the beginning of proper tears that well and spill over before you can stop them.

“I don’t actually want to break up,” you confess, voice thick and warbling. “Not really.”

Remus's breath catches again, this time with something softer—relief, maybe, but wrapped tight in the ache of watching you crumble like this. Your apology slips out next, rushed and raw and muffled by your hands when you lift them to cover your face.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I’m sorry, I just— I didn’t know how else to say it. I didn’t know how to tell you how I’ve been feeling.”

But he’s already moving.

He doesn’t hesitate this time. His arms are around you in a heartbeat, gathering you in and pulling you close, like maybe if he holds you tight enough, the pieces of you will start to fit back together. You press your face into his chest, and the quiet, shuddering breaths you take against his shirt break his heart in a hundred new ways.

He presses his lips to the crown of your head, voice gentle and steady against the shake in yours. “You never have to apologize for feeling like this,” he murmurs. “Not with me.”

You cling to him, fingers curling into the fabric at his side, and he just holds you tighter.

“Anytime you need reminding,” he says softly, his words a promise, solid and warm, “I’ll tell you. I’ll remind you how much I love you. How much I want you. All of you.”

Your shoulders start to ease then, just a little. The worst of the storm passes in his arms, and he doesn’t let go.

[ryzheling]

*ੈ‧₊༺ ​II.​ SPIDERVERSE AU!

characters: spiderman!itoshi rin x gn!reader contents: spiderverse, sfw, college setting, isagi cameo, ooc? one mention of seggs but nothing explicit wc ~ 500

a/n: some leftovers from my spidy rin au ! not much and kinda unfinished but it’s been marinating in my docs for like a year now so here u go

spiderman!rin who’d taken it upon himself to always swing by (literally) your rented place every morning without fail. He’d chill on your windowsill with one leg crossing inwards while the other swaying leisurely in the air as he dutifully waits for you to get ready before you two head to class together. Sometimes he’d hop inside your bedroom just to fiddle around with your things, nosing around your room like he hadn’t been there a thousand times already.

“You know you can just go on without me, right?” You’d always say time and time again. You knew how he’d usually go anywhere all by himself, no transport whatsoever because really, all he needed was his own superhuman abilities; his webs. He didn’t need to accompany you to and fro anytime you had a class together.

He’d even offered to give you a swing a couple times before, though you’d declined every time lest you want to arrive at school with a bad case of wind-blown hair. 

Rin, who was previously looking over your old albums, turned to you with pinched brows as if genuinely offended from what you’ve said. Throwing you a light glare, he gives three simple words as an answer, “I’m your boyfriend.”

spiderman!rin who loves helping you whenever you ask him to get you stuff, subtly showing off his abilities. Also loves pulling you closer and catching you by surprise by attaching his webs at you, reveling in the way your breath hitches at the sudden proximity as his lips curl upwards at the corners in a small, barely noticeable smirk.

Going to spiderman!rin’s place for a hangout only to freeze at the threshold when you find another man sitting at his desk, your boyfriend nowhere to be seen as you and the stranger stare each other down like deer caught in headlights.

Rin appears at the door behind you a few seconds later with a bag of takeouts in his hand, a look of irritation crosses over his face. “What the hell are you doing here?” he glares, daggers shooting from his gaze towards the guy. They seem to know each other, you’d wonder.

“Rin, you sneaky bastard! You never told me you have a partner! An attractive one at that!”

“Hah, the hell did you just say? As if I’d ever tell you anything about that. And you didn’t answer my question, stupid Isagi.” Rin grumbles, leading you further into the room with a warm hand splayed on your lower back. You follow suit, amusedly watching the two interact as Rin drops the bag onto the nearby coffee table.

“You asked me about that insect guy-villain-thing or whatever, remember? I’m here to help!” Isagi perks up, a wide grin on his face as he points to himself in what looks to be pride. Your boyfriend deadpans, “It was one question and I know the answer to it already. Now get out, you’re an eyesore.”

“Wait, what?! I thought I’m like, your Guy In The Chair or somethi– I SAID WAIT!”

spiderman!rin who'd use his webs as restraints during sexy times if you’re freaky enough… maybe while he’s a little bloody and bruised and still in his spidy suit.

would've written something about the upside down kiss if i wasn't so braindeadge :l

©ryzheling. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else!

[fluff-lover]

Past Future | Logan x fem!Reader

Summary: Logan time travels and finds out his future self is married... to you.

Note: this is in a way part of my Healing Touch fic, where Reader is called "Angel", is a mutant and has healing powers. But can be read without reading the whole fic.

Also, I don't think the timelines and plot makes much sense, but this came to me one night and I just needed to write it!

In a desperate attempt to stop the sentinels, Charles and Logan offer to travel into the future to find out how (and if) the X-Men won the war, only to find out that mutants are almost extinct there. Year is 2030 and their only lead takes them to the Logan from the future: a more rugged, worn down Wolverine who hung the claws a year ago, after Charles died.

“I don’t go by Logan anymore.” He told them. “Here I’m James.”

It took a lot of persuasion to make James take them home and help them. James wanted to leave the past in the past, but seeing Chuck again, even if it was a younger version, pulled some strings in his heart.

That’s how they found themselves standing outside Jame’s home: a little cabin in the woods, with lovely flowers in the front yard, a wooden fence, a nice porch… 

Logan, the one from the past, felt like this was a completely parallel universe instead of his own in the future. The man standing in front of him was completely different from him.

“Listen, I’m very protective of my home.” James said. “So here are some ground rules: Don’t go sneaking around, don’t touch anything…” He said looking from Charles to Logan, then back to Charles. “Don’t feed the dog.” And finally he turned to Logan. “And don’t hit on my wife.” he said in a warning tone.

“You have a dog?” Charles asked.

“You have a wife?!” Logan added in disbelief.

They walked in and found a cozy home, a lit fireplace, and the smell of homemade food filling in the air.

“Shoes.” James said before taking his shoes off.

Charles and Logan exchanged a look before taking their shoes off too.

Oh, James was whipped!

A white and brown border collie rushed to James and he bent down to greet her.

“Hi Whiskey, have you been a good girl today?” He asked the dog while patting her. She wiggled her tail and licked his hand. “Yeah you were… always such a good girl.”

Logan watched closely, he couldn’t imagine ever getting a dog. 

James straightened with a groan and walked further into the home.

“Sweetheart?” He called out.

You walked out of the kitchen to greet him and Logan’s breath hitched.

You were SO beautiful, breathtaking. Now he understood Jame’s warning. His younger self would definitely try to make some moves on such a pretty thing.

Logan watched in disbelief as you cupped your husband’s face and kissed his lips oh so sweetly while James wrapped an arm around your waist. Logan wondered how on Earth he would end up with such a loving, beautiful partner. It was clear your tenderness rubbed off on James, seeing him being all lovey dovey with you.

James quickly introduced them and you couldn’t help but look at Logan in wonder. He looked just like your husband, just younger. But he wasn’t the same man. You and Logan went through so much together: losing the other mutants, helping Charles, finding Laura, only for Charles to pass away in a horrific way… No, your James was unique, and you loved him just the way he was.

Charles was a whole different story…

“That’s… a head full of hair…” You half joked. James snorted and kissed your temple.

Your life with James was simple and very domestic. You made dinner in the kitchen while he set the table. Logan and Charles tried to take everything in as this wasn’t the future they expected.

“Alright, dinner is ready!” you said as you placed the food on the table.

“I’ll get Laura.” James said before going upstairs.

“Who’s Laura?” Charles asked.

“She’s James’ kid.” You said as you sat down. Logan opened his eyes so widely you thought they would pop out of his skull. “It’s complicated, technically she’s his clone, but after we found out about her we decided to keep her and raise her as our own.”

Logan watched James arrive downstairs followed by a little girl. There was some resemblance, especially in her frown. She didn’t look happy to have visitors.

When Laura spotted Logan, she quickly hid behind James’ legs. He smiled gently at her and patted her head.

“It’s alright kiddo, he’s good. Not a clone.” He explained while guiding her to her chair next to you. You smiled sweetly and placed a plate of food in front of her.

Once you were all sat at the table Charles and Logan explained the situation and asked a ton of questions about the future. With a lot of patience James told them everything, from how to defeat the sentinels to how you two ended up here. He told them about Charle’s seizures and how it killed every other mutant except for the two of you. 

You told them about your healing powers and your days at the School as “Angel”. 

…About your marriage…

…About finding Laura…

About Charles passing away.

At one point you turned to Charles with glassy eyes.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you. I used my healing powers with you every chance I got but…” You shook your head and sighed. “I think you were so tired you just gave up. And then when you were attacked by X-24 I got to you too late, you had already passed away…” you looked away in shame. James lifted your hand and kissed it.

“You did everything you could… We all did.” James said before turning to the others. “She’s constantly healing me too, otherwise I would be dead by now.”

“Healing from what? I thought you… we…” Logan cleared his throat, not knowing how to address James. “What about the enhanced healing power?”

“I still got it, but the adamantium in my bones is slowly poisoning me.” He then looked at you lovingly. “My little angel keeps it from taking me out entirely.”

“What’s adamantium?” Charles asked.

“A nearly indestructible metal that was injected inside me to make me stronger.” With that James unleashed his claws and the other men saw their reflection on the shiny material.

“What the fuck…?” Logan mumbled.

“How did that happen?” Charles asked.

“That’s another long story…” James sighed.

“And it’s been a long night, I’ll tuck Laura in.” You said getting up. “Come on sweetheart, it’s bedtime.” 

Laura got up and before following you upstairs she stopped to hug James goodnight. It took a while for James and Laura to form this father-daughter bond, but you knew they loved each other and every day they learned more and more to show their affection. It was slow progress but it was worth it.

“Good night, kiddo.” James smiled softly and watched the two of you walk upstairs. Logan was still trying to wrap this whole thing around his head. James turned to him and tilted his head towards the door. “Care for a drink?”

James, Logan and Charles sat down on the porch, each one of them with a glass of bourbon. The sky was clear and the stars shone bright. It was quiet and nice, the only light in the porch coming from a little lamp hanging from the roof.

Charles and James discussed plans of action against the sentinels and how to get reinforcements, but Logan stayed quiet mostly. He had so many questions, the most important one being what did he do to deserve such a happy, tranquil life?

Whiskey, the dog, laid next to James on the floor with her head resting on her master’s foot.

“So this is your life now, uh?” Logan suddenly said, interrupting Charles and James’ talk. “You go to work, come home to a wife and kid, have dinner, sit on the porch with a drink and a cigar…”

James arched an eyebrow.

“Pretty much, yeah.” He said before taking a drag.

“You forgot the dog.” Charles added and Logan shot him a glare.

“Hard to believe, no?” James asked him. Logan didn’t know what to say, but yes, he was having a hard time believing this.

“It's just so… peaceful.” he mumbled.

James hummed and took a sip of his drink.

“It is, and so far away from all the violence I once knew. For the longest time I didn’t believe I deserved it. That I didn’t deserve HER.” It was clear he was talking about you. “But each morning I wake up next to her and she reassures me this is where I belong.” He smiled, thinking about the quiet mornings, the whispers under the covers, the light kisses on his face.

“Are you happy?” Charles asked softly, wanting to believe his friend got a somewhat happy ending while the rest of the world went to shit.

James hummed again and nodded his head.

“Happier than I recall ever being.”

By the time they went back inside you were almost done washing the dishes. James stood next to you and started drying them, a radio playing old tunes in a corner.

While Logan and Charles discussed strategies, Logan caught a glimpse of you and James slow dancing in the kitchen. It was a heart pulling scene: your head resting against James’ chest, Paul Anka’s voice sounding in the background. 

It looked so simple, just a common married couple slow dancing in the kitchen late at night, a domestic yet sweet tint to it. Yet to Logan it looked like an impossible dream of something he never thought he could get.

“You’ll get there.” He heard Charles whisper and his face went red as he realized he was caught staring.

“Uh?”

Charles looked at the couple and back at him.

“You’ll meet her, fall in love and marry her. Don’t worry, this will happen to you.”

Logan cleared his throat awkwardly.

“It won’t if we change the future.”

“You won’t remember any of this when you get back to your own time. But I will, and I’ll make sure you meet her.” Charles promised.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He said dismissively. “That’s not what we’re here for. Keep your head in the mission.”

Charles simply smiled.

Logan was whipped too…

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[formulaonecrumbs]

junie could you do more osc comfort? him comforting reader before a surgery where they’re doing a d&c to check her out and the aftermath of him just being in the hospital and bringing her home

-🧸

i love you lots junie

right here when you wake up

Oscar Piastri x PCOS!reader

summary: oscar comforts reader through a d&c surgery and takes care of her after.

warnings: medical mentions, d&c surgery, implied fertility concerns, hospitals, post-op recovery

A/N: i didn’t know what a d&c was so i DID in fact look it up. also i don’t know if u wanted more on the fertility matter but i thought i’d keep it more soft. i love u, 🧸❤️. hope surgery goes well and everything’s alright!

⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘

you’re cold when you wake up, even under three hospital blankets.

it’s the kind of cold that sinks into your skin, not sharp or biting—just… hollow. like something inside you has gone quiet.

you don’t even remember falling asleep.

but you remember oscar holding your hand while the nurse walked you back. remember the tremble in your fingers, the soft kiss he pressed to your knuckles, the way he said “i’ll be right here. when you wake up, i’ll be right here.”

and he is.

slouched in the uncomfortable hospital chair, elbows on his knees, head in his hands—but as soon as he hears the rustle of sheets, he looks up. eyes soft, mouth parted, relief blooming across his face.

“hey,” he whispers, coming closer. “hey, sweetheart. you’re okay.”

your throat is dry. “how long was i out?”

“a couple hours,” he says, brushing your hair back from your forehead. “everything went fine. they said you did great.”

you blink hard, biting back the sting in your eyes.

he notices immediately. “hey. none of that. you don’t have to be brave right now.”

“i’m not—” your voice cracks. “i’m just tired.”

he nods, hands warm as they cup your face. “i know. i know, baby.”

he kisses your forehead, lingers there, and for the first time since you signed the consent form, your chest eases just a little.

he’s quiet the whole ride home.

not distant—just tuned into you. one hand on your thigh, the other on the wheel. eyes flicking to you at every stoplight, checking if you’re still comfortable, still okay.

you sit curled toward the door, legs tucked up carefully, cramping dull but persistent.

you don’t speak until you’re parked in the driveway. “i feel empty.”

oscar doesn’t try to fix it. he doesn’t say anything stupid or sugarcoated. just turns the engine off, leans across the console, and wraps his arms around you like he’s trying to hold every broken piece together.

“you’re not empty,” he murmurs. “you’re here. you’re whole. you’re mine.”

he carries you inside—not because you ask, but because he sees the way you hesitate on the doorstep, the way your hands tremble when you reach for the handle.

you bury your face in his neck. “i can walk.”

“i know,” he whispers. “but let me, okay?”

he lays you on the bed, tucks the blankets in around you, then disappears for a minute—only to come back with a hot water bottle and a painkiller and the tea you like when your stomach’s a mess.

he sits behind you, legs on either side of yours, pulling you into his chest.

you don’t say anything for a while. just breathe.

after a few minutes, he speaks again, so quiet you almost miss it. “i hated not being allowed in the room with you.”

“wasn’t much to see,” you mutter.

“wasn’t about that,” he says. “it was about you being in pain. and me not being able to hold your hand through it.”

you don’t cry. you just… lean further into him, like if you try hard enough, you can disappear into his chest completely.

“thank you,” you whisper.

“for what?”

“for not leaving. for not making it worse.”

he huffs a soft breath. “baby, you could go through anything, and i’d still be right here. nothing could make me leave.”

you fall asleep with his arms around you and his lips pressed to the crown of your head.

and in the quiet, he holds you like you’re still made of something precious.

because to him, you always will be.

THE END :>

[prettycalla]

|| take you there ||

Pairing: Eddie/Reader

Summary: You've had a rough day. Eddie has a wild idea that just might help you blow off some steam.

Word count: 1.3k

Tags and warnings: A bit of reckless driving/speeding (written as safely as possible - but please mind yourself if this is a trigger!), fluff, established relationship, Eddie is a sweetheart, no use of Y/N.

Masterlist || Join the taglist!

Today has not been a good day. From start to finish, everything that could go wrong did go wrong.

You'd love nothing more than to just crawl into bed and scream into your pillows, but you promised you'd meet Eddie, so here you are, storming up and down his tiny bedroom to try and get the pent-up energy out of you.

You'd tried to keep it to yourself, but it's Eddie, you can never keep anything to yourself around him. Just being with him makes you want to spill everything, even when he hasn't said or done anything.

He's sitting on the end of his bed, watching you pace back and forth as you rant.

“It’s just-"

You let a strangled noise of frustration, balling your hands into fists.

Eddie doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try and calm you down or make you stop. He knows that you need to let it out.

He knows what it’s like to be stifled. He never wants you to feel that way around him.

Only when you start to slow down does he move, fishing his keys out of his jacket pocket.

“You wanna go for a drive?” he asks.

You stop in your tracks, turning your attention to him.

"I don’t wanna be around anyone else right now,” you tell him.

Eddie shakes his head.

“Just you and me,” he assures you. “Promise.”

You bite the inside of your cheek as you think about it, before finally nodding.

“Okay,” you say in a small voice. “Let’s go.”

Eddie gives you a warm smile, holding his hand out to you. You tentatively take it, letting him lead you out of the trailer. The van’s parked in its usual spot nearby. Ever the gentleman, Eddie opens the door for you with his usual little bow.

You stare off blankly through the window as he makes his way to the driver’s side, having his usual fight with the rusty door before he starts the van up.

“Radio’s all yours,” he says with a little gesture towards it.

The radio’s only ever fully delegated to you when you’re really upset. You shake your head.

“‘M not in the mood,” you mumble, plucking absentmindedly at the edge of your sweater sleeve.

Eddie doesn't push any further, keeping his focus on the road as he drives.

You’ve always appreciated that he doesn’t make you talk when you don’t want to. At the start of your relationship, it would bother him, and he eventually confessed to you that he was worried you were mad at him when you were quiet like that. You’d gently reassured him that if you were mad at him, he’d be the first person to know, and he knows that now. He trusts that when you’re quiet, it’s because you need it.

You’re so lost in your own thoughts that you’re not paying attention to where he’s taking you, or how long you’ve been driving for. It's a while before you arrive at...wherever this is. The van lurches gently to a stop.

“We’re here,” Eddie says, and you finally come out of your own head to look out the window.

“Here” is a long dirt road in the middle of nowhere. The nearest house must be at least ten minutes away by car, and the street lights are practically non-existent.

“Are you planning to kill me?” you ask with a weak smile.

Eddie laughs, not calming your nerves in the slightest, and shakes his head.

“No murder, I promise,” he replies, making a theatrical crossing motion over his heart.

“So…what, then?” you ask, squinting out into the gloom again. “What’s out here?”

“Nothing,” Eddie replies simply. “That’s the point.”

Before you can question him further, he digs one of his tapes out of the glove compartment and pushes it into the cassette slot on the stereo.

You jolt as heavy guitars blast through the van’s speakers. You make a move to turn it down when Eddie stops you.

“Trust me, okay?” he shouts over the music, starting up the engine again and driving down the road.

The van starts picking up speed, faster and faster as it goes. You’re starting to feel nervous - God, maybe Eddie is planning on killing you - when he starts winding the window down. He leans out as far as he can without letting go of the steering wheel, and lets out an ear-splitting scream.

You just stare at him. Eddie is weird, you are more than well aware of this fact, but somehow you still find yourself surprised by the shit he does.

He pulls his head back in and starts slowing the van down, pushing his windswept hair out of his face as he catches his breath. He turns to you with the biggest smile on his face, his cheeks red from screaming.

“What the hell?” you ask with an awkward laugh, turning the music back down.

He’s still grinning at you, eyes wild and full of life. You have to admit, he’s gorgeous like this - even if he is completely nuts sometimes.

“C’mon, it’s your turn,” he says, turning the van in the opposite direction again.

You shake your head vehemently.

“No, no way,” you tell him.

Eddie just looks at you as the van starts to speed up again.

“Eddie-" you start, but he interrupts you.

“You gotta get this shit outta your system,” he says, fiddling with the stereo volume to turn it all the way up again.

You look at him, then at the window winder.

He’s right, and you know he’s right.

With a little breath, you wind the window down, leaning out as far as you can. The air is freezing against your skin, the wind pulling your hair back from your face. Squeezing your eyes shut, you let out the loudest scream you can manage, until your jaw and throat and lungs ache. You can faintly hear Eddie cheering from behind you.

You practically collapse against your seat afterwards, pushing your messy hair out of your face.

"Holy shit," you whisper hoarsely, a wide smile spreading across your face.

Eddie makes a circular motion with his finger - you wanna go again? - and you nod enthusiastically. He turns the van around and heads up the dark road again, picking up speed. You hang your head out of the window again, and yell and scream until you can’t help the adrenaline-fuelled laughter that bursts from you.

Eddie pulls the van to a stop as you slump back into your seat.

"How are you feeling now?" he asks gently, turning the radio down.

You're breathless, your face stings, your throat hurts-

You feel amazing.

"Better?" he prompts with a smile.

"Better," you reply with a nod.

He reaches over to take your hand, pressing a kiss to your fingers.

"Good," he says softly. "I hate seeing you upset like that. You don't deserve it."

You shrug. "That's just life sometimes, Eddie."

"Yeah, well, fuck that," he grumbles. "You still don't deserve it."

His eyes are so warm and sincere, and it's hard not to see how much he cares for you. You gently squeeze his hand.

"Thank you," you say softly.

"For what?" he asks with a little frown.

You know Eddie too well by now. He's not fishing for compliments or praise. He genuinely doesn't understand why you're thanking him. He loves making you happy. Why should you thank him for that?

"For taking such good care of me," you tell him anyway, because he deserves to know.

He smiles then, that big, dopey smile you love so much.

"Anytime, sweetheart," he murmurs, leaning over to press a kiss to your cheek. "You ready to head back?"

You nod. "Yeah, I think I am. Do you think maybe you could drive the speed limit now?" you ask, teasing.

Eddie just laughs, turning the stereo back up.

Taglist 💖: @glassbxttless @punkrockmlchael @iitsmandii

(banners by @ cafekitsune)

[rafesangelita]

♡ RAFEANGELITA’S 11k CELEBRATION

i’ll keep this very short and simple because if not i know i could go on forever lol. but wow!! i can’t believe we’ve made it this far. if someone told me that i’d have a blog that reached heights like this when i was only a reader, i would’ve never believed them. i’ve gone through so much on and off of this site but talking to my mooties @nemesyaaa and @rafesheaven along with seeing the endless amounts of support and love on my work has truly made me so happy. the good outweighs the bad on here, and for that i’m so thankful. please know that i don’t take any of you for granted, and i appreciate every single one of you immensely. i hope all of you can take this celebration and perceive it as a token of my appreciation <3 keep reading below for further details!

NOTE : this celebration officially starts on may 1st, and ends may 31st. you can send in your requests starting now up until the end date! i will most likely be posting multiple times a day so that i could try my best in getting out everyone’s requests. please keep in mind that my inbox will most likely be flooded, so while i will try my absolute best to answer every request, i might miss a few so all i ask is that you have patience with me as i do this. my celebration posts might extend past the end date period, but only to get out the last bit of requests!

RULES : while i am comfortable writing dark content, the only thing i will not write is incest. it’s a very controversial topic and i would much rather write my content peacefully than getting backlash and/or hate! i also do not write anything having to do with scat and vomit so please keep that in mind as well <3

GUIDELINES : you can send multiple requests! when you send in a request please be sure to follow the layout guide i provided in the ‘example’ section underneath each option you could choose from! and please send in the corresponding emoji so i know what kind of request you’re making! please know that rafe, john b, pope, and jj are all eligible for your requests!

⋆˙⟡♡ 🍡┊request any obx boy + kink

[ example : frat!rafe + daddy kink ]

⋆˙⟡♡ 🐇┊ request an au with an obx boy and !reader of your choice (the !reader you request could be a new !reader and not one that i have an introduction for already)

[ example : criminal!rafe x spoiledgf!reader au ]

⋆˙⟡♡ 🍥┊send in a prompt of your choice and which au or pairing of mine you want me to write the fic for (and please specify if you want it to be smutty, fluffy, or angsty)

[ example : “we aren’t supposed to be doing this.” + bbf!rafe + smut ]

⋆˙⟡♡ 🍵┊media! request a moodboard for any !reader, au, or any visualization you may be curious about! (this could be a week of outfits, ootd’s, what the !readers would be if they were ___ )

[ examples : bitchy!kook!reader moodboard, sheriff!rafe x farmer’s!daughter!reader moodboard, what is pogue!sweetheart!reader wearing today?, a week of outfits for bambi!reader, what would the !readers be if they were foods/desserts? ]

⋆˙⟡♡ 🥞┊send in a p!link and i’ll write a drabble for it (only x links please, i will not be opening any third party porn sites, thank you! also please specify which obx boy you want me to write the drabble for)

[ example: *link* + bsf!rafe ]

[storiesaplenty]

Miscellaneous Masterlist

Part 2

Part 1 can be found here.

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Warnings: unprotected sex. P in V. Oral (f receiving. Mentions past pj). Murder (but nothing descriptive) Reader is a bit naive due to a sheltered upbringing.

WC : 1294

©️ storiesaplenty 2025: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.

I stood at the edge of her property, waiting for her to leave her small home.

I have been there since the sun set, waiting for her.

I could hear her father screaming at her, asking her where she has been the last few weeks.

I could hear timidity telling him that she has been outside, enjoying the sunset and the peace and quiet.

I wanted to know one the door and tell her fat fuck of a father that his precious daughter has had my cock down her throat and that she swallowed my cum.

I wanted to thank him for not teaching her anything, and she was so easy to corrupt with a few simple praises.

Then, I would kill him, or let her do it when I finally turn her, which I am hoping is tonight

"There is a boy out there, isn't there?"

I heard her mother gasp at the accusation her father threw out there.

"No, there is no boy! I am enjoying the sunset. We never had this back home due to the smoke from the factories." Oh, how my sweet girl lied to her parents.

"I just know that there is someone waiting outside." At the moment, I saw him pull the curtain back and look around, trying to catch me, but I was standing too far back for him to notice me in the darkness.

"Please father. Tonight I will stay inside."

I zoned out what he said, but I knew she would be meeting me outside tonight.

◇

She waited until everyone was asleep as she snuck outside the home.

I held up the lantern as she walked closer to me.

She was wearing a satin nightgown, and I could see that she was wearing nothing else.

"I am sorry Remmick."

"It is okay darlin'. I could hear you and your father fighting. It is okay." I said as I pulled her into my arms, kissing her.

Her hands gripped my shoulders as the kiss became more and more heated.

"I can't stay out here much longer. We are going to church in a couple of hours." She said against my lips, as I lowered us to the ground.

"Mmm, how about I worship you before you kneel before that man in the sky." I said as I broke the kiss, kissing down her neck, wanting nothing more than to bite her right now, but I wanted her first, just as she is before I make her mine forever.

My teeth nipped at her skin, making sure not to break it as I didn't want to draw any blood.

"Remmick, I don't think we should go any further." Her words made me halt.

I pulled my head back to look into her eyes, placing my hand on her knee. I heard her take a deep breath.

"Do not listen to your old man. You and I belong together." I nudged my nose against hers as my hand that was on her knee slowly started to slide up her leg.

"But Remmick,"

"Shhhh. Let me make you feel good, like how you made me feel good yesterday." Her legs spread a bit more as my hand went further.

"I'm not sure." She gasped as my hand made contact with her pussy. I groaned at how wet she was already.

I pushed one finger inside, swearing under my breath at how tight she feels with only one finger pushed inside of her.

"You sure about that darlin'?" I questioned as I gently started to finger her.

"Just relax and lay down, and let old Remmick take care of you." She giggled when I called myself old, as she did as I asked.

She has no idea what she is in for tonight.

◇

Her hands gripped the top of my head as I pulled another orgasm from her body as I ate her out, moaning at the taste of her on my lips.

My face soaked with her juices.

Her legs shaking around my head as I had her legs thrown over my shoulders.

"I think you are ready for me now." I told her as I sat back on my knees, pulling down my suspenders, and my pants, just enough to free my hard, aching cock.

I wrapped her still shaking legs around my waist, my cock gripped firmly in my hand as I placed it at the entrance to her pussy.

"Hold on to me darlin'. If there is any pain, you can bite me, I can take the pain."

With one nod of her head I pushed just the tip in, watching as her mouth fell open at the slow, burning stretch.

I saw the discomfort on her face and kissed her temple, muttering how well she was taking me.

The moment I was fully inside, I looked up, swearing in my head at how fucking good she feels.

I didn't move, not wanting to hurt her, and lose her trust.

"Remmick, you can move." I looked down at her, making sure she wasn't lying to me.

"You sure?" One nod of head, and I slowly pulled my hips back, leaving just the tip in.

I thrust back in her pussy, and her back arched off the ground, moaning loudly, but definitely not in any pain.

Her moans of pleasure was like music to my ears.

"Oh we are going to have fun tonight." I groaned through clenched teeth as I pulled my hips back again, before thrusting back into her, with slow, deliberate thrusts until I sped up my pace.

◇

I covered her mouth with my hand as I fucked her like my life depended on it. Her noises of pleasure getting louder and louder, until I had to cover her mouth with my hand.

Her back was flushed against my chest as fucked her from behind.

Her juices have soaked my thighs.

Her body was covered in sweat.

Her ass most likely sore from my brutal pace as I slammed off of her ass over and over again.

"Remmick." I heard her whine against my hand.

"Feel so good, darlin'." I moved my hand from her mouth, wanting to hear her.

"Could make you feel like this every damn day. Would you like that." I groaned into her ear.

"Yes, oh yes Remmick." She cried out as she came one last time, her pussy clenched around my cock so tight, I swear she was trying to strangle it.

I took that moment to do what I have want to do for so long.

I opened my mouth, my fangs coming out, biting into the back of her shoulder just as I came.

I covered her mouth just as she screamed.

I let her blood flow into my mouth and down my chin as I filled her pussy with my cum.

I pulled back to look at my handy work on the bite. Kissing it one last time before letting her collapse onto the grass below us.

I pulled out of her pussy, groaning at the sight of my cum leaking out of her well used pussy.

"That's it darlin'. We are together forever now." I told her as I smoothed down her hair.

It didn't take long for her to wake up to her new life.

I heard her mom calling for her to come in, as she was in deep trouble.

"And which ever boy is out there with her, can come in too."

I held out my hand, which she gladly took.

"Ready to eat my love?"

"Yes. I am starving."

"Ladies first."

The screams and then the silence of her dead family members was like music to my ears.

I cupped her bloody face, kissing her.

"Welcome to your new life, my love."

[bonzirelle]

Out Of Sync

paring: idol!bangchan x reader

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: cursing(like two), arguing(idk if that counts), kissing

summary: Chan’s been pushing himself to the edge for the sake of the group, while you’re growing more and more worried about his mental health. But all he sees is the music—the deadlines, the pressure, the need to keep going. Your concerns don’t match his priorities, and slowly, it starts to pull your relationship apart.

dolle’s note: i wrote one little channie’s room reference..please lmk if you saw it!!

✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧

It’s close to one in the morning and you were getting more tired with every second that passed by. Eyes dropping ever few minutes and everything was going quiet, well, everything except for the sound of Chan humming a melody to himself while tapping a pencil against his mini notebook. Usually this wouldn’t worry or bother you, his work never really has, but lately it’s getting to a point. He damn near stays up until sunrise and some days he doesn’t even come home from the studio. You’re lucky Jisung practically dragged him out of the room, or else you knew he would still be in there pushing himself to the brink of passing out.

You knew about Chan’s passion for music, it’s never been hidden. You would actually be more concerned if he didn’t mention music for a day. You’ve always supported him and his decisions when it comes to music writing and producing, you always have so it would be kind of weird to you if you didn’t. But more frequently you’ve been second guessing letting him stay up late like this. He stays in the studio for a whole day and misses meals. You know it’s not healthy for him and he knows it too. But he’s too blinded by his love for music that he’s neglecting his own personal health.

“Chan, it’s getting late. You should come to bed.” You sounded so tired, and that’s because you were extremely exhausted.

For the first few seconds he was completely silent continuing to be hunched over a spiral notebook while writing lyrics.

“Just give me a second.”

“You said that an hour ago.”

A sigh fell from his lips, he pauses his movements for a second to see if you would say anything else, but when you didn’t he just went right back to writing as if you went basically pleading for him to lay with you. Yeah, you were worried about him and his health, but you’ve also been starting to feel much more lonely and empty lately. You didn’t want to make this about yourself so you stayed quiet not to worry or stress him out even further. After a few more moments of silence from the both of you, you wrap a throw blanket around your shoulders and get out of the bed then made your way over to his desk.

“Chan, i’ve literally been waiting for you to get in bed since you’ve come home. You came here at ten…it’s almost one in the morning.”

You watched him start to bounce his leg while you we’re talking like he was trying to distract himself from something.

“I never asked you to wait for me. You shouldn’t even be up right now. You have work in the morning, don’t let me keep you from going to sleep.”

“That’s the point, Chan. I literally can’t sleep without you.”

He started to roll his eyes as you spoke. You knew he was burning himself out but that didn’t give him the right to be annoyed at you, you didn’t do anything but wait for him. That’s what you’ve always done. Gave him time no matter what. You know no one is perfect so you ah to give him the benefit of the doubt, you wouldn’t get too snappy or angry at him for being up like this.

“Can you just leave alone for one fucking moment? God, you’re so clingy for no reason. Just go to sleep.”

His words hurt way more than they were supposed to. You’ve always looked at Chan as someone who would never say anything hurtful or mean to you. That’s how he’s always been.

“Oh, i’m clingy? God forbid i wanted to wait for my boyfriend to actually get to sleep with him.”

After you got nothing but silence from him, you scoff and go back over to your bed.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered while tucking the sheets back and wrapping yourself in them. You tried not to get too worked up over this but you just really wanted to feel Chan’s arms around you after days of him coming home late. He was like the feeling of coming home to a warm room after spending the whole day out in the cold. Still, he was being stubborn and continued to write away in his notebook instead hearing you out and acting spending some time with you and this time you just accepted it. It’s not like much would change anyway.

You fell asleep pretty quickly considering it was really late. While you began to drift off in complete silence, you felt the bed dip down beside you and a familiar scent of lemon and complete sweetness then knew it was Chan. Well, i mean who else would it have been?

“Babe..you up?” You nod your head a little, not having the strength to speak. He let out a very soft sigh through his nostrils while tucking some of your hair behind his ears. “Good night, baby…” He leans down to press a light kiss to your cheek.

He doesn’t say anything this time, just reaches over and pulls you close. You let him. His hand finds yours under the blanket, fingers lacing slowly. A shaky breath leaves his nose. Then, so soft you almost miss it—“’Night.” He presses a kiss to your temple and closes his eyes. And everything feels like it’ll be just fine.

✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧

[mikkomacko]

stopp that was so cute. now i’m thinking of reader helping luke get ready for a first date and she’s like nico’s pretty romantic why don’t you ask him for advice too

“Guys?”

Nico looks up from the mixing bowl of cream cheese frosting, pausing his whisking when he notices the way Luke is anxiously holding onto the edges of his shirt.

Perched on the counter where you were previously watching over his baking, you now share a concerned look before looking to Luke, forcing an airy smile.

“What’s up Lukey?” You ask, and the boy makes a weird twitchy motion with his arms, tentatively stepping further into the kitchen.

“Can I ask you guys something?”

“You just did,” Nico says, wincing when you smack at his shoulder. You give a look, Nico placing his mixing spoon against the edge of the bowl and standing up straight.

“Of course you can,” you amend, waving him into the kitchen. Luke takes a nervous breath, treading lightly as he leans his elbows onto the bar stools across from you too.

“I think I have a date.” He says, eyebrows pinching together and Nico almost laughs. If the energy in here weren’t so serious he might. How does he not know if he has a date or not?

“That’s great Luke!” You gasp, slipping off the edge of the counter and leaning onto it instead, eager to hear all the details.

“I just…” Luke cringes, “haven’t really been on a date. What do I like wear or take her to do?”

For the umpteenth time in his life, Nico thanks the universe you’re here because he’s gone his fair of dates, but they’ve all been with you. And by the time he actually took you on a date, he’d been sleeping with you for months.

“Well do you have any ideas of what you’d want to do?” You ask gently and Luke, helpless, shakes his head.

“What did you guys do?”

Two pairs of eyes fall on him, Luke’s begging and yours overly fond. Like just the question of a first date has you giggling and blushing remembering the one he shared with you.

“I mean, it was different for us,” Nico explains carefully, and out of the corner of his eyes he sees your form rise, arms crossing over your chest as you await his next words.

“We’d been seeing each other for a bit before we went on a date,” he continues, “so she knew a lot about me and my life.”

“You still had to plan a date though, right?” Luke prods and Nico nods. “So what was it?”

“A boat ride.” He says and at the same time you respond, “Lego building.”

The kitchen goes silent, you and Nico both turning to each other with confused gazes. Almost offended, you jab a finger into his apron covered chest. “That’s our first date to you?!”

He scoffs, “You accept Legos as a date?”

“Yes,” you frown, “you went all out for it. There were candles and you made a little pallet on the floor with pillows and we had wine. That’s romantic!”

“A sunset boat ride with dinner is romantic.” He counters.

“You did a lot of romantic things!” You defend, “Maybe you don’t know it because Mr. Stone cold Mafia Boss couldn’t admit he had a heart, but we were dating long before that boat ride.”

Nico pauses because you’re right technically. He did have those Lego nights with you, the ones with cheesy movies and takeout and wine as his way of dating you without admitting to himself he was dating you. And while they were so fun and some of his favorite moments with you, he never saw them as dates. Never saw them as anything good enough to be labeled a date, especially not for you.

“I mean, it was just legos. That’s not special enough to be a date right?”

Your features soften, eyes going all moony.

“You thought I was building Lego’s with a fuck buddy Hisch? Some of those legos are still in this house.”

He can feel his neck getting warm, embarrassed that this conversation is happening in front of Luke of all people.

“I-I don’t know. Sometimes we fucked afterwards.”

Luke makes a gagging noise. “Alright stop. Obviously we’ve got a mix up here which is what I’m trying to avoid-“ he pointedly looks at Nico. “How did you know it was a date?”

It’s directed at you this time, and you turn to Luke with a cute little shrug. “I mean it’s Nico. It’s obvious when something means something to him and that night he just…was different. It felt different, it felt like a date.”

Luke blinks, staring at you in disbelief. “I think you’re the only person that can describe a Nico emotion as obvious.”

You laugh a little, bumping your hip against Nico’s and he can’t help but grab at your waist, pulling you into his side. He had no idea you knew, that you saw him that wholly even back then. When he was still playing denial games with his heart, you knew it all.

“I can’t believe you accepted a first date that was that lame.” He teases, his heart fluttering in his chest. “If it were with anyone else but me, I’d say you should’ve ran.”

You pinch at his side, shaking your head in amusement. “I had fun with you,” you say earnestly, “and it was intimate. You and me. I remember thinking that night that there was no way you were actually a mob boss, that the person in front of me building floral Lego’s could kill someone.”

Nico blushes, shrugging bashfully. He never thought of it that way. That was one of the first times you saw him as just him, off guard in the privacy of his secure home, without the haze of lust or sex.

It was intimate, raw feeling. Hell he had picked Lego’s in the first place because he was so nervous he didn’t know what to do with his hands, needing something to keep them busy.

“Well why’d you say the boat ride?”

A little startled, Nico looks to Luke, having completely forgotten he was there in the first place.

“Well when I told her I was picking her up that night, it was the first big thing I had ever planned. I mean, I had to do reservations and plan food and what to wear and if it would be a day that worked with her schooling. It was just a big deal and I thought you deserved a first date that was a big deal. Special ya know?”

Luke’s mouth is open. “Wait you rented a whole boat with dinner for a first date?”

“Umm yeah?”

His voice is a pitch higher when he rushes out, “well I can’t do that! I can’t pull off the mafioso, rich first date!”

You laugh, holding out two hands in a calming motion. “You don’t have to go big Luke,” you ease him. “You can find a good middle. To Nico, Legos were too small for a first date. To me, a private boat ride was too big for a first date. But it worked because it was meant to be.”

Luke lets out a whiny huff. “I think I’m even more confused. I mean Nico pulled you doing both of those and he didn’t even realize it. So what do I do?”

“Ok,” you say thoughtfully, “just pick something that’ll make you comfortable, something familiar. And just fine tune the details, make them romantic or personal. That’s what makes it’s a date.”

“Intentional,” Nico adds, “you gotta show her that you put some effort in without having to say it. Because if you say it-“

“Well then you’re just cocky.” You finish for him. “For example, the Lego date, I loved it because it was different. It was something I hadn’t done with Nico before and it was just light and sweet. But I loved the boat ride too because it was when I knew things had changed for him.”

Curiously, Nico nudges you. “You knew I was serious then?”

You bite your lip a bit, nodding. “Yeah. I mean you had trimmed your beard and you were wearing actual nice clothes. And no hat. I remember almost tripping over my feet when I saw you because you just looked so…romantic.”

Nico had trimmed his beard for that. And he’d agonized over what to wear, what looked casual enough to not freak you out but nice enough for you to know it was a date. And he’d even gotten a hair cut, though it seems like you hadn’t noticed.

“You looked nice too,” he reminisces, “your sundress and the way you had your hair. I thought you looked like a Bond girl or something, all pretty on a yacht with me.”

You don’t say anything to him, but you lean into his side, cheeks tinging pink. Letting out an airy breath, you look to Luke again.

“What was your idea for the date?”

He shrugs. “Ice skating maybe? I know I’m at least good at it and then if I get nervous I don’t have to actually be looking right at her ya know?”

“Oh that’s perfect!” You compliment, lacing your hands together with excitement. “It’s the perfect balance of sweet but innocent.”

“Casual,” Nico adds thinking of the Lego date, “but romantic too.” Like the boat date.

“Really?” Luke asks incredulously. “You think it’s ok?”

“She’ll love it,” you assure. “Just do the classic love story, clichés ok? That’s where the magic is.”

Nico bites back a laugh when Luke’s expression turns helpless again. “What do you mean? Clichés?”

And oh god Nico can’t take this anymore.

“Look Luke,” he says, that bit of mob authority dripping into his tone. “It’s a date, one you planned and are taking the lead on. So show her that. You gotta be…a man. And not in a douchey, toxic way. You just need to make sure she feels seen, paid attention to.”

“Safe,” you say softly, “hold her hand when you’re skating so she won’t fall. And make sure she’s wearing her seatbelt in the car. That her jacket or gloves or whatever are warm enough. Stuff like that.”

Luke nods. “Like tying her skates for her?”

Nico smiles. “Yeah that’s perfect. And speaking from experience, make sure she’s not hungry or thirsty or whatever. You don’t have to be overbearing, but as long as she knows you care and you’re paying attention, it’ll work out.”

He seems more relaxed when he looks between you two, no longer fidgeting and nervously twitching. “Feed her too? That’s not like too much? Dinner and skating?”

Nico groans in disbelief. “No it’s not too much. Just take my card and you can borrow one of the nice cars, and make sure she’s comfortable, ok?”

Luke nods, then turns to you. “Can I get ready here? Like you’ll help me with my hair and stuff?”

“Of course,” you smile warmly, “I’d love to.”

You both give him a minute, his gaze on the counter top as he takes everything in but then he’s standing up straight, nodding his head with a new found confidence. “Ok, yeah. Thanks guys.”

“No problem bud,” Nico says and you both silently watch as he makes his way back to the living room where the other boys are.

“He’s going to throw up isn’t he?” You ask

“Oh yeah,” Nico agrees, propping his hip against the counter so he can look at you. “Maybe I shouldn’t have offered one of our cars.”

You laugh, smile all beautiful and eyes bright and soft. Even with him covered in powdered sugar residue and smears of dried cake batter, and you press into his chest.

“The Legos,” Nico murmurs, “they were a date. I just didn’t want you to know that. Thinking that I gave you a cheap first date or something. But it was a date to me too.”

“I was in college Nico,” you say, “Lego’s were not a cheap date to me.”

Chuckling to himself, Nico leans down to press his lips to yours.

“The boat ride,” you murmur against his mouth and he hums in acknowledgment, palming at your hips. “You did look so good. So good I wanted to fuck you on the deck of the boat.”

Smirking, he pecks your lips again. “Yeah baby I know.”

But you didn’t and he didn’t either. Because it was romantic and sweet and everything a perfect date should be.

[horsegirlwarcrimes]

@savstan1 ANYTHING FOR U BABE (ノಠ益ಠ)ノ彡┻━┻

Tianlang-jun sipped his wine slowly, enjoying the warmth that spread through his chest. As a Heavenly Demon, mortal alcohol did absolutely nothing for him, but a small exertion of his blood parasites could keep his body from metabolising it for a few minutes. Just enough to feel the burn against his throat.

"What has you so interested?" Su Xiyan asked. She looked down at the table imperiously, and Tianlang-jun smiled and obediently refilled her cup.

"This one has spotted an interesting character," he said, nodding over to a nearby stall selling fabric.

She followed his gaze to the sight of a short, round-faced man poking at some rolls of silk with a deeply unimpressed expression. As the two of them watched, he picked at a thread until it came loose and then squinted at it like a disapproving mother-in-law.

"... him?" Su Xiyan asked.

"That pendant around his neck is a several-thousand-year-old artefact of the Mobei clan," Tianlang-jun said. "Makes you wonder what some mortal merchant is doing with it."

"Not mortal," Su Xiyan said.

"No?"

"He stands like a cultivator. And moves like he's got qiankun space in his sleeves."

"You can tell from the sleeves?"

She hummed, not bothering to respond. Tianlang-jun placed his cheek in his hand and watched as the small man called over the silk merchant to begin perhaps the quickest and most brutal bartering session he had ever witnessed.

Su Xiyan drained her wine cup. "You have fun with him. I should be getting back to the Palace."

Tianlang-jun let his bottom lip jut, gazing up at her as she stood. "It's no fun without you."

"You'll live with it, I'm sure."

"I will, but I'll be imagining you critiquing my technique the entire time."

"It'll keep you sharp."

As she turned to walk away, she let a casual hand reach out and run through his bangs, dragging nimble fingers across his scalp and giving the slightest tug before letting go.

–

"Say," Tianlang-jun asked, stepping in close to the man's back as he was ducking his head to count the rolls of silk he had acquired, "Does your master know you're here?"

The short cultivator jumped, nearly sending the three rolls of silk in his arms to the dusty ground.

"What?!" he asked. Then he blinked. Tianlang-jun let his smile stretch wider, showing teeth, that charmingly human gesture which made his own kind draw their blades and bare their claws, ready for the predator to strike. 

This human must have lived amongst demons for long enough that his instincts were the same. He began to back away, glancing down around the rolls of fabric, likely to see if he could reach his sword from wherever he had it tucked away without dropping his burden. Tianlang-jun almost wanted to pounce on him a little, just to see if he could.

“This lowly one greats Junshang,” the human said quickly, and Tianlang-jun’s brows shot up. “Begging Junshang to forget this insignificant one and continue on his business.” 

“That’s a no, then,” Tianlang-jun said. For each step the cultivator took back, Tianlang-jun took one forward. “Because I’ve met the young prince of the North, and I’ve certainly never seen him wear—” he reached out and plucked up one of the bolts of fabric, spreading it out to consider. “—so much yellow.” 

The cultivator snatched it back, scowling. “Hey, hands off the merchandise!” As soon as he had snapped the words, he paled. Tianlang-jun’s smile widened that much further. “Ah, that is…” 

Before he could make excuses, Tianlang-jun took another of the bolts of fabric and fell into step beside the cultivator. “Come, walk with me. Let’s see how long it takes your minder to notice. I don’t suppose you feel like lunch?”

"Only if you're paying," the cultivator said.

"I'm afraid this lord has no human money," Tianlang-jun said, fluttering his eyelashes. "Perhaps my dear new companion would treat me?"

The cultivator rolled his eyes. "Aha, yeah, try that on someone it actually works on. This servant is way to cheap to be funding any demonic sugar babies."

Tianlang-jun did not know what a 'sugar baby' was, but he was sincerely looking forward to finding out.

[flightyalrighty]

I have been here for a very little amount of time and have not invested my full attention on this comic because Tumblr is super overwhelming to keep track of but I sincerely gotta ask-

Is this gonna end good or bad? Or bittersweet?? I mean it feels like this is gonna be a looong story and I still have no clue as to how this all came about. I'm just along for the ride.

Idk, you don't gotta answer that last question. I guess I just want a rundown of the information that you CAN give me without giving anything important away. More so information on those brain-eating ravage tick things.

And also what was the demonic thing about a while ago? I saw an ask talking about satanic thing-a-majigs present in this comic and I don’t really know what they're talking about? Is it the violence? The weird chant that Shadow and Rouge spoke (which I'm assuming is what turns the ravage side on)? Or was that just propaganda?

Anyway, thank you for your time and seriously, I am super invested! The leading to what the piss happened before Sonic got taken over by those brainwashing bug things is insane! I have no idea who this elephant is but he has something to do with it! There is a lot to unpack right now and all I can hope is that Shadow did NOT kill Rouge just for the simple pleasure of not having to see him go through that trauma again thank you very much 🙏

..Well, he already is but let's just hope that she's only in some induced coma because I really love how you did her character so I would love love LOVE to see here come back in one piece!... or maybe missing a few pieces as well if that's the case-

I'm not picky 😂

Gonna break this into segments where I answer the individual parts of this ask!

Q: Is this gonna end good or bad? Or bittersweet?? A: Yes

Q: What was the demonic thing about a while ago? A: Some hyper-religious freak tried to use my fan comic as some kinda evidence that Shadow The Hedgehog, the character, is satanic (iirc). Something to do with the cut he got on his head. I'm not going further into that, it's well behind me.

Invested in my comic but you don't know the name of my elephant! Maybe you should get a lil more invested then!

For folks with issues reading the comic on Tumblr, I have it all up on Comicfury as well for easy binge-reading and a bigger page on your screen.

[gravehags]

“Copia.”

Natalie looks up quizzically from her phone and turns to look at her husband in their bed. He’s staring straight ahead, glassy eyed.

“What was that my love?” she asks carefully.

“She named me Copia,” the disdain in his voice when he says the last word makes nausea roil in Natalie’s belly. “A copy. I’m just a copy of him.”

Oh dear.

With a soft sigh, Natalie pushes the covers off her and turns to face him more fully.

“Is that why you were so quiet today?”

Copia sniffs.

“She never saw me a-as anything more than the spare, amore,” and her heart breaks when she hears the tightness in his voice that she knows is the preface to tears. “She named him Perpetua. She just—“

“Copia,” Natalie interrupts softly but firmly. “Copia. Copia, my beloved. Have I ever told you what I thought of when I first heard your name?”

He blinks and looks over at her.

“I-I don’t think so.”

She smiles, all adoration as she nestles into his propped up side. When she looks up at him, at the little mustache and long nose and the pointed sideburns, she’s filled with light.

“In an art historical context,” she begins, placing a hand on his bare chest, fingers carding through the abundant fine hair, “Copia is a term that is used to describe luxury and abundance, particularly in Italian Renaissance art. You know, copia like copious. That was what first came to mind when your mother introduced me to you. Copia was the perfect name for you - you are so filled with love and generosity and kindness. So I don’t think your mother ever meant for you to be considered as a copy to your brother. For all her shortcomings, she gave birth to the two of you and saw your promise and named her sons abundance and everlasting. She knew. And—“ she drags her painted nail over the dark lines of his tattoo “—I reckon if I summoned her via Ouija board she’d back me up on that.”

Copia lets out a sharp, damp hiccup of a laugh and Natalie pulls back, afraid she’s upset him further. There are tears on his cheeks, true, but he’s smiling at her so genuinely and with such love it makes her heart thud in her chest.

“You wouldn’t have to Ouija her, amore mio,” he says, “we both know you can see her just as well as I can.”

Natalie laughs.

“Yeah but she can’t know that otherwise how else am I going to get her to say shit when I’m around she wouldn’t want me to hear, huh?”

“I think she knows already, Natalia, from the last time when she made a comment about how bad your hair looked that day and you had to shove your fist in your mouth to stifle your indignant squawk.”

Natalie leans back against her husband again with a snort.

“Old bitch,” she says, not without a hint of fondness. “Do you feel better now, my love?”

She feels, rather than sees his nod.

“Thank you, dolcezza,” Copia says quietly, “these days it’s hard to see past the end of my own nose when it comes to my self esteem. You have eased that burden. You always have.”

She hums.

“Understandable how you’d find it hard to see past the end of your own nose though, that thing is fucking huge.”

Copia lets out a noise of outrage while Natalie shakes with laughter.

“Oh you will pay for that one Natalia Rosalinda,” he growls, crawling on top of her.

“That’s the plan,” she manages to get out before his mouth descends on hers.

[rizzoreads88]

Yall..It is literally canon Lucien and Tamlin had nothing to do with the sisters being turned. The villian himself even says this.

You can dislike both characters as much as you want but that doesn’t change canon.

ACOMAF

“Why did you think I asked my dear friend Ianthe to see who Feyre Archeron would appreciate having with her for eternity?” Even as horror filled my ears with roaring silence, I glanced at the queens, the question no doubt written on my face. The king explained, “Oh, I asked them first. They deemed it too … uncouth to betray two young, misguided women. Ianthe had no such qualms. Consider it my wedding present for you both,” he added to Tamlin. But Tamlin’s face tightened. “What?” The king cocked his head, savoring every word. “I think the High Priestess was waiting until your return to tell you, but

ACOWAR

“Well if tamlin didn’t align blahhh” bruh, they never ever truly aligned w Hybern. Hybern was taking over the spring court regardless this is all explained in the books. They were always using Hybern. Always working for the courts. Feyre even realizes this later on….

“We were backed into a corner with no options. None. It was either go to war with the Night Court and Hybern, or ally with Hybern, let them try to stir up trouble, and then use that alliance to our own advantage further down the road.”

Those glacial eyes hardened as he again took in Tamlin. “Are you here as an ally of Hybern or Prythian?” The mocking, hateful gleam faded into granite resolve. “I stand against Hybern.” “Prove it,” Helion goaded. Tamlin lifted his hand, and a stack of papers appeared on the little table beside his chair. “Charts of armies, ammunition, caches of faebane … Everything carefully gleaned these months.”

Tamlin. His actions would cover Jurian’s betrayal. I had no doubt Tamlin hadn’t gone back to Hybern’s army after the meeting to betray us—but to play spy. Though after last night … it was unlikely he’d get close to Hybern again. Not when the king himself had witnessed everything. I didn’t know what to make of it. That he’d saved me—that he’d given up his deception to do so. Where had he gone to when he’d winnowed? We hadn’t heard anything about the Spring Court forces.

You know who told ianthe about elain and nesta? Feyre. You know who connected Elain & Nesta to the human queens who were working w Hybern? Feyre and the inner circle.

You can’t sit here and blame Lucien & Tamlin but not hold feyre just as accountable since she is the one who got the sisters involved and no one else.

For the record I blame none of them. It was Hybern and ianthe. I’m just so tired of ppl twisting canon bc they don’t like Lucien or tamlin while simultaneously leaving feyre out of the equation.

[sebadztian]

Another week, another episode. Let's go!!

Spoilers for episode 4 below (and the manga too!)

*press the 'Skip Recap' button* - where was this button last week?

I've read the manga, I know what's going on, but it still strange to see Sebas serving morning tea to someone who's not Ciel...

Ah, so Sebas knows that Sieg & Ciel are roughly the same size... His Bocchan is really tiny.

I'm pretty sure it takes more than a bedcover to make a dress, but whatever.

"A skill a dressmaker could do better."

1. Nina will agree, 110%

2. Humility doesn't suit you, sir.

Even going to breakfast has to be accompanied by sparkles... The DRAMA...

Wolf looked like he wanted to punch Sebas in the face. I don't blame him.

*Skip Intro*

I've got to admit, when I first read about this whole 'Formal Table Setting' thing in the manga, I learned a lot.

What is it with Sebas and his tendency to get into someone's face? An intimidation tactic? A decline in his vision? Or is he just weird like that?

Ofc she doesn't know anything about table manners. She was raised by a Wolf (Get it?)

I call bullshit. Sir, you don't even have a heart!

Ah, he's dangling the 'knowledge' carrot in front of her. I think he was testing the water here, to see how she'd react, if she'd take his bait. And she did. Enthusiastically too.

It was her weakness and he exploited that. I talked about this some time ago, about how Sebas had seduced Sieg with the promise of 'more knowledge' and 'the outside world' to get her to cooperate.

Bard, if only you knew... Sebas was crying inside. "Bocchaaaan.... Bocchaann... Please let me touch you...!"

Tanaka is highly underrated just because he's half-chibi. One of the reasons why I love this arc is because we get to see the servants in action. We did see that in the Circus arc too, ofc. But this one is different. They weren't at home, they were stuck in a foreign territory, battling an army of German soldiers, and they still kicked ass!

*Professor Michaelis flashback*

A solid proof that Sebas does care about Ciel. He brings that book with him everywhere so that he can be prepared if Ciel was having another asthma attack or any other illness that the little lord might've neglected to mention because Sebas 'never asked'.

I'm sorry... what did they do to people with sore throat back then?!

Neither have I, Sieglinde. Neither have I. But bacon does make me happy, so...

Wolf has been demoted from 'butler & caretaker' to 'errand boy'.

Babyyy....!!

Sebas is missing out!

Seb: I KNOW! BOCCHAAAANNN...!! 😭😭

Please don't scold Finny. He's trying his best... He's so sweet!! I love him!!

It is really hard to believe that this was the same boy who stood his ground against a literal demon. I did some research on mustard gas and yes, this is one of the effects. Basically it enhanced the negative feelings, such as fear or anxiety tenfold and that's why Ciel is like this. The 'werewolves' were there to further worsen this effect.

This is truly heartbreaking. Ciel's crying and feeling that he didn't deserve any of this, that he wasn't good enough. This gas is enhancing his childhood trauma and opened the dam of three years of suppressed emotions. This arc really shows how much Ciel had sacrificed and how hard it was to maintain the image of 'Ciel Phantomhive'. He lost his entire personality, the sweet, caring, and wonderful younger brother.

So, back then, Ciel & Seba were sent to investigate and dismantle the lab in Germany, just like how the queen was sending him to Germany again to investigate about the werewolf village. Somebody really needs to call child service...

Sebastian looked way too happy to fight a child test subject...

He really was adorable. No wonder everyone wanted a piece of him...

I might've misheard it, but I thought I heard Ciel say 'Shieru' (as in RC) and Sebas. Due to the way Japanese sentences are structured, the object was said first before the verb and he did say something about RC. But the translation didn't mention it because it wouldn't make any sense because he hadn't utter the verb.

Ciel-shaped lump on the bed. (Why does he look like a turnip?)

I should've hired Sebas as my English tutor, or read that book about the bacon. I've been learning English for 20+ years and I still can't speak it perfectly, but Sieg spend the morning (3 hours at most?) learning the language using a single book and she's now fluent in English.

Well, that's a unique, not weird at all, thing to say to a sick person, don't you think? And she did well on not mentioning the marked eye. Sebas looked somewhat worried, but mostly kept his poker face. I bet it took everything in him not to reach out to touch his little meow-meow.

Sieg knew some things about various rituals to conclude that Seb & Ciel were devil worshippers based on the marks on Seb's hand & Ciel's eye. She even recognized the symbol as demonic signs.

I wonder if this knowledge would come up again in the later chapters of the manga...

Painful memory? Actually, it was a fond memory. It was the day he met his future husband!

Dear lord, what on earth was Wolf doing?! Was he wighing the salt?! Why?!

I don't know why Yana said that Sebas acted without thinking. He's shown that he was quite knowledgeable and he can think on his feet. He came up with a strategy when battling UT on Campania, and he knew that there was something hidden underneath the manor, so he utilized Snake's snake to investigate further. The man is a smart cookie and combine that with his experience, he's actually very clever and sly.

This is way funnier in the anime than in the manga. And look at that ass!

Snake looks like he got some sort of a revelation... and fangs.

And that's it for this week. It was overall a great episode. Everyone got some decent screentime and some scenes are much better animated than they were in the manga. Like Ciel's grief and his helplessness. It was much more pronounced in the anime.

I think they did a great job with this arc. They're clearly more comfortable with drawing the characters because they look much better than last season's.

And I'm happy that they're staying true to the manga. At this point, I don't want to see an AU of any sort like S1 or S2. I just want to see the manga panels come into life and hear the characters' voices. Some might not agree with me, but that's just my personal preference.

See you next week!

[wackywatchdotcom]

before i go do smth else like smth i think abt often but was thinking abt a few hrs ago in particular is how the circus easily tricks the audience into thinking the circus would be Better Than Real Life. when i think from literally almost any angle you examine it its just as bad (if not worse, depending on your own problems)

i think theres like so many problems its hard to even list them all. some of it is personal taste things. cus i think a lot of people think itd be fun because they enjoy specific aesthetic choices in the circus, or bc of other interest related things. but like. what about people who HATE bright colors. what about people who dont like the idea of not being human. what about people who dont enjoy things like roleplaying. some aspects of the circus are only even appealing to specific tastes in things, making one of the few 'draws' of it not really even being a universal thing

and thats the superficial stuff. because more importantly, if you dont like the real world (for whatever reason), the circus may provide a temporary solution to that, because its so far removed from reality. but i think the circus is way smaller than people realize. theres definitely always going to be things to see since caine can always make things, but its just as limited if not more than the real world, because while the world grows and changes, genuinely new things are created and discovered and stuff. caine will never really get to see that, let alone recreate it for the players- and even then, it still isnt actually that thing. that doesnt even factor in that caine is already operating on limited knowledge of the real world. its not clear how detailed he can get on things, since the accuracy can vary (spudsys being so accurate to the real world, vs the dinner in ep 1 being so flat and lacking almost any detail), but theres a good chance that anything he makes is going to be limited to, at the most, a CONCEPT from the real world, if theres nothing in the real world you like, thats still all youll get, just in a different way.and if you DO like things from the real world, youll never get to truly reexperience it (even if caine remakes it, youll know its not the real thing, and it wont be 100% how you remember it, either)

then theres the safety/pain/horror aspect to what caine makes. i think because there hasnt been gore or anything its easy to assume the circus is still tame, and that anything bad that happens cant be TOO bad. but this is NOT true at all. the teaser of the show establishes that even when caine is not going for horror, he still hurts the players. theres things thatd be physically horrifying to a person like getting possessed, theres physical pain (i see it debated but i think its clear that even if they were to experience less pain, they still DO experience pain, but thats a different topic) or extreme discomfort, theres psychological torment (the exit doors are genuinely very cruel even if that wasnt caines goal, what ep 4 did to jax and gangle. kinger getting taunted in ep 3, etc). its all survivable but even if you like them caine isnt trustworthy enough in this way to never do smth horrific to a person, or cause it through his actions

then theres the complete lack of autonomy, which imo is one of the most frightening things about the circus. bc unless your tastes are always aligning with the exciting, completely family friendly existence of the circus, and you never deviate even a little, you are going to be barred from any semblance of it. its best illustrated in how pomni HATES being touched but caines always prodding her and moving her places and stuff, and in how zooble is denied the option to opt out of adventures even when they state they want to directly by episode 4 implying the choice to even have time to yourself is deeply conditional (plus, the whole lack of an exit entirely meaning that even if you liked the circus, the lack of option to leave would still affect a person. youre getting locked in a big room for the rest of time and youll never get to leave). and also this post

and THEN you factor in the social aspect. because regardless of how you prefer socializing if at all, the circus is a nightmare. if you dont like people, thats great! you dont NEED to be anyones friend! except that you are going to be forced to interact with them eventually, and when you do its going to be repeated. its not gonna be once. and once caine notices hes going to bother you about it. forever

alternatively, if you DO like social interactions in any way, no matter what, if its not you, youre going to see others abstract. you are going to inevitably watch those you care abt struggle and eventually get stuck in a state that Seems Extremely Horrifying To Experience forever. its long and drawn out and itd suck and it wouldnt happen once

then is the easy to forget fact that if you have psychological problems they can and WILL follow you to the circus. gangle and zooble are the biggest examples of this. the circus didnt get rid of their problems, they just gave it a new, horrifying inevitable consequence. i sometimes fall victim to looking at the circus and assuming that ohhh i wouldnt have this problem! because i wont have to deal w it getting set off! but like... yeah i would. i wouldnt stop having this or that in the circus id just have to deal w it while ALSO going on adventures

theres many things. you cant truly eat you cant die you dont get to decide anything when you do die it seems terrifying to experience and youll be stuck in some level of that forever and anything you enjoy is not with you and anything you dont enjoy will follow you too to some degree and the list goes on and on

all this said i dont think any of this is an indicator that the characters lives are meaningless or smth just because it sucks. theres a reason gooseworx has said that the takeaway from the show should be that theres meaning to be found in a stagnant life. theres still meaning in their existence and i dont think its as hopeless as it may seem- but i think its still BAD. and tbh the idea that its worse only HELPS that theme of the show!!! i dont think itd hit as hard as a theme if the circus DIDNT suck