#like. this will break him. but i need to see HOW he acts when hes broken

[fawnhart]

drew begs bambi to forgive him ! ˚ ᡣ𐭩. 𖥔 ๋࣭

They had just wrapped filming her final season on Outer Banks. The whole time, Bambi acted as if she wasn’t hurting inside and nailed every single take flawlessly. Drew, on the other hand, was a mess and everyone knew it.

He kept messing up his lines, forgetting his call times, and dozing off between takes. In a way, Bambi felt bad for him. But he had no right to her sympathy, at least not at the moment

Now, both back in New York, Drew for a photoshoot and Bambi back in her elementl she couldn’t help but look at him with disgust and anger.

How dare he show up?!

It was one of those nights where everything was happening all at once and nothing at all. Drew stood at Bambi’s townhome door, soaked from the rain, his hands trembling, his chest tight. His mullet was a mess, not giving a damn if paparazzi caught him. He just wanted her to listen. She stood there, arms crossed as her eyes burned with anger, hurt, maybe a little curiosity, but mostly just tired.

she had every right to be

“Please, Bambi. Please, let me in. I can’t” He cut himself off, his voice breaking just a little, the words too heavy in his chest. He couldn’t keep pretending to be fine. Not anymore.

She didn’t move, arms crossed, standing her ground. She was beautiful like that, even if her face was streaked with tears, even if her lip trembled slightly.

“You can’t just come in here after everything, Drew.” Her voice was quieter than he expected, but sharper. It made his heart twist “You think you can just say sorry and it all goes away!?”

“I’ve been a mess without you, baby. I’ve screwed everything up,” he said, his words coming out in a rush “I was… I was just scared. Scared of you and your reputation, of what people would say about us. i-” His voice cracked, and he quickly cleared his throat, trying to hold it together “I thought if I distanced myself, it would protect you.”

Bambi’s expression softened, just a little, but not enough for him to get comfortable. She was still holding that distance “You pushed me away because of what other people might think?” Her voice wavered just slightly on the word might. “And that’s supposed to be for my own good?”

He dropped his head, his eyes stinging “I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was..no, I am an idiot.

She didn’t say anything, but her gaze never wavered. After a long silence, she sighed, her breath shaky “And then there’s your friend” she said, almost too quietly for him to hear.

The words hit him like a punch in the stomach. He didn’t need to ask which friend she meant. That girl. The one who had spent more time telling Drew what a mess he was for being with her than actually being his “friend”. Drew had started to feel that insidious doubt creeping in, her words twisting around in his head like vines.

“She told you I wasn’t good enough, didn’t she?” Bambi asked, and there was a bitter edge to her voice.

“i-I didn’t believe her, baby,” Drew said quickly, his hands shaking again. He took a step forward, desperate “I never believed her. I-look, I shouldn’t have listened to her at all. I was so caught up in my own shit, and-”

“And what!? You let her tell you who I am!? Who we are!? But you were perfectly fine having sex with me?, right” she said feeling utterly and totally used

He swallowed hard, a heavy knot in his throat “I should’ve told her to back the fuck off. I should’ve told you sooner. I should’ve never let her put those thoughts in my mind. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The air in the apartment felt thick, too heavy to breathe. He finally dropped to his knees, his face flushed with the weight of it all “I love you, Bambi. Please... don’t shut me out. I need you. I can’t fix this without you.”

Her eyes flickered with pain as she stared down at him, her arms still crossed, but now her lips were pressed tightly together as she fought back more tears. She couldn’t let him see her break just yet. Not like this. Not when she was still trying to figure out whether or not she could believe him.

“You really hurt me, Drew. You have no idea how much.” Her voice cracked as she spoke, and she turned away, wiping at her eyes. She moved slowly, the silence between them stretching like a thin wire.

Drew stayed kneeling, helpless. “Please, Bambi. I’ll do anything. Just tell me what I need to do.”

She turned back to him, eyes red-rimmed but steady. “You have to prove it. You have to show me you’re not just talking. Words don’t mean anything anymore.” She paused, her gaze hardening. “And you need to cut her off. She’s clearly got it out for me, and for us, and you can’t keep her around if you want to make this right.”

He nodded immediately “I swear I will. I’ll cut her off. I’ll do anything. Just... please don’t leave me.” His voice was raw, the last of his pride crumbling.

Bambi stared at him for a long moment, and then she sighed “Fine,” she said quietly “But I’m not forgiving you tonight. I need to think about it.”

Drew’s heart sank, but he nodded, trying to be understanding, even if every fiber of him wanted to scream.

“Get up, you’re embarrassing me” He stood up slowly, and she led him into her townhome, but not without a sharp glance over her shoulder as she said, “And you’re sleeping outside tonight, With my cat.”

Drew blinked, startled. “What?”

“I’m serious. Outside. With Ms. Mocha. You can sleep on the balcony.” Her tone was final, but there was a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she walked past him into the closet, grabbing a blanket and tossing it in his direction.

Drew was about to protest, but the look on her face stopped him. The soft, determined way she held herself now was a reminder of why he loved her in the first place, because she never made anything easy for him. She knew her worth, even if he had forgotten for a while.

He grabbed the blanket, muttering, “I’m an idiot.”

Her lips quirked up at that, just a little. “Yeah. You are. But you’re still my idiot.” She softened then, her voice growing quieter. “you have to prove you deserve to be with me. Because I can’t go back to being second place.”

Drew nodded, his chest tight. “I swear I will. I swear.” He hesitated then added “can I atleast sleep on the couch?” he said with a weak smile

Bambi rolled her eyes, but it was playful now, the tension easing just enough for her to offer him a tiny truce. “Fine. I haven’t burned your clothes yet, consider yourself lucky.” She said heading to her room to grab some of his pajamas he had left there several times

He laughed softly, grateful for the small weird victory. He knew it was far from over, but it felt like a step in the right direction.

“missed you Mocha” he whispered as he curled up on her soft pink couch, Ms. Mocha curled up next to him with an irritated meow, Drew stared at the night sky view from her townhome, wondering how he could have been so fucking stupid. But maybe, he had a chance to make it right.

© 𝐅𝐀𝐖𝐍𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

[hyuny-bunny]

seasons // series

part iii

summary: your bestfriend minho will go lengths to keep you all to himself

warnings: drinking, attempted drugging, threat of violence, male masturbation, mention of past relationships and cheating

part ii • part iv

You felt the warm sunlight filtering through the blinds of the window of your apartment, skin hot the touch. It didn't help the heat of Minho's body pressed against you made it so easy to relax into him, you subconsciously pressed your face further into his chest as his arms laid around you lazily. Cuddling wasn't a foreign concept to the two of, sometimes he needed it just as badly as you did. You shift to get up from his grip feeling his arms tighten around you to keep you in his grip but the overwhelming urge to pee forced you to pry yourself from his grip.

He peeled one eye open to see you walking quitely to the bathroom, the soft scuffling of your socks against the floor as he trailed his eyes up to your ass watching a small curve of it peek out beneath the shorts, the shorts having rode up your body as you slept. He let out a soft "hmph" as he closed his eyes again, adjusting his position on the couch. He made no move to get off the couch wanting to see if you'd come crawling back in his arms once you relieved yourself.

He was met with disappointment hearing you make your way to the kitchen undoubtedly making coffee. The two of you shared a love of coffee that led to many study dates at cafes, hangouts at cat cafes (his preferred choice of leisure activities, and coffee shop hopping once a month. He sat up on the couch seeing you had washed up and decided it would be fitting he do the same.

You look up as he walks towards your bathroom, bed hair tossed, the sleepy grumpy expression on his face as his long sleeve shirt clung to his body hugging the outlines of his muscles that made you salivate.

"Coffee?" You called out to him.

"Is that even a question?" He responded in his morning voice that made you clench your thighs.

He typically only drank americanos to keep his sugar intake low with how much he danced and worked out, fortunately for him you kept a solid amount of americano concentrate in your kitchen. You made a small breakfast for the two of you; eggs, toast, some bacon, and fruit on the side. You weren't the best cook, having left that skill up to Minho throughout college, baking was your forte. He had no complaints when he'd come to your place to make dinner for the two of you only to be rewarded with a plate full of cookies you made before he got there, or when you decided to trial run recipes looking for his approval and feedback.

"Are you still going out tonight?" He asked looking up through his long lashes as he bit into his toast, the act far too hot for something so normal.

"Uh, yeah. Felix and Han are gonna come by later. Changbin is our DD and 'escort' as Han likes to say." You say with a soft laugh remembering the look of annoyance on his face the first time Han called him that.

"Where?" There was a hint of sternness to his voice that caught you by surprise.

"This place called Layla's, fairly new club but omegas get in free on the 2nd saturday of every month."

He hummed in acknowledgment as he seemed to fixate on something on his plate. You ate quietly, unspoken words lingered in the air, as you are about to speak he breaks the tension.

"Just don't do anything stupid? Don't go home with someone just because you think it's what you need to do." There was a certain bite to his words, that struck something sensitive in you.

"Are you implying I'm stupid enough to just go sleep with anyone?"

"No... I'm just saying you've had some pretty poor taste in guys before." There it is again.

"In what way?"

"How long did you stay with your ex after you found he was cheating on you?"

His words felt like the wind was knocked out of you. He looked at you sorrowful, regretting the words already

"My bad.. didn't know getting on cheated was my fault."

"That's not what I-"

"No, I got the message loud and clear. You think I'm too incompetent to make solid judgments around the people I fuck or date. I don't need your approval, Minho. I'm a grown woman and can decide what I want for myself." You could see the sting of hurt in his face. He stared down at his plate trying to avert the fire and hurt in your gaze wanting to just scoop you in his arms and kiss the pain of it away.

Instead he chose the grimace, muttering a quick sorry before saying he needed to go home. He grabbed his sweater and keys leaving you at the table still simmering in anger and hurt. He closed the door so gently you wished he had slammed it.

He let his frustrations get the best of him in a moment of weakness.

-

It was around 6pm when Han and Felix were knocking at your apartment. As thanks to Changbin for being designated driver, they all brought stuff for dinner so no one was drinking on an empty stomach.

"Why so glum?" Felix asked gently as you played some food.

"Minho said something that pissed me off... I just want to have a good night now. So cheer me up!"

Felix gave you a knowing look, he wanted the whole story. Minho wasn't the type to just accidentally say something hurtful, there were very few occasions where the two of you ever genuinely argued.

"He told me not to do anything stupid... then said I had poor taste in guys-"

"Is he wrong?"

"Not in that aspect, no. He's not wrong. What really hurt was his implication that I was too stupid to make good judgements of people and imply I was stupid for staying with my ex after I found out he cheated on me.." It came out so rushed there was no stopping the words.

Felix paused looking over you face, sighing softly as he smoothed a hand over your hair.

"He's wrong for how he said it.. That doesn't change the fact that he's just looking out for you. Read between the lines."

I nod softly as we start to eat, chatting up our game plan.

"Okay so Laylas first, and if that doesn't work out, we go to Wolfborne." Han said firmly as he shoved a dumpling in his mouth.

"What's at Wolfborne?"

He smirked, winking as he began to ramble.

"There's a secret club in the back of the bar, lot of hot HOT people. Most people only get in via invite or because the know a bartender.."

"How did you get in?" Felix asks.

"Our lovely little friend, Jeongin, is a barback on saturday nights." Han says while stretching his arms behind his back.

Jeongin was a music major like Han, he was an alpha, a bit meek but so very very handsome. You pondered the idea, he was a bit younger but not to be confused for inexperienced.

"Alright.. I'll bite." You said with a shrug, Felix nodded in agreement.

"Fuck yes, I'm gonna text him to put us on the list." Han said rushing to retrieve his phone.

We made our way to my room as Han dug through your closest to find you an outfit. Felix held your face as we sat in my bathroom as he worked on your eyeshadow. He was master at doing a smokey black eye, running the smudgy line across your eyes that made them look seductive yet fierce. He added the lightest bit of shimmer to the eyes so the light would reflect on them in the club. he dabbed your lips in a red color that made your lips kooky vampy and just bitten, a perfect contrast to your features.

"Okay, outfit is picked, thoughts?" Han said holding up the lacey black dress, completely see through but with the right underwear and accessories it could be tasteful. The cups of the dress had a nude lining so wearing no bra be no issues, the sleeves had a dainty ruffle strap similar to the the trim of the hem.

"Hot... Really hot," Felix said glancing at me, to confirm my reaction. It was a bit out of your comfort zone but the desperation to be spiteful towards Minho.

"Exactly what I need." You said letting a shaky sigh out.

After getting dressed and fixing your hair to sit nicely, the three of you continued pre-gaming until Changbin arrived. Once he was finished eating, the night began.

Minho was blowing up Changbins phone, texting him every minute of where you guys were.

ping

where are you guys going first?

ping

how many guys are there?

ping

what is she wearing?

ping

can you see her?

ping

has anyone approached?

ping

don't let her wander off alone

ping

stay by her side

ping

don't let felix drag her to the dance floor

Changbin rolled his in annoyance as the alpha demanded to know where she was at all times.

"Changbinnie!~ take my photo pleassee" His eyes drifted up to see the omega pleading with him to take her photo, he agreed deciding to take it on his phone to send to Minho. You stand posed against the bar top holding the cherry from your drink to your lips in a seductive way as he snapped the photo. He sent it to Minho knowing how it would rile him up.

Minho was laying on his bed staring up at the ceiling irritated by Changbins lack of responses. He was only asking to keep an eye on you, he grew irritated by the idea that you were out in a club with the prying eyes of other Alphas watching with only one thing on his mind. When his phone buzzed he looked down expecting to see Changbin telling him off that you were phone. What he wasn't expecting was to see you wearing that godforsaken black lace dress, holding a cherry to your lips in the most seductive way. He felt the blood rushing to his cock at the sight.

The sight of your fleshy thighs at the bottom of the screen, his mind running through the image of his face buried between them. His cock strained against his boxers at the realization that he could see the black lacey panties through the dress... The dress was so see through he could make out the entire outline of your body beneath the fabric, thanks to the flash of the camera. His eyes dragged up your body in the photo to the waist he often had a had around when the two of you were out in public. Finally zeroing in on your perky breasts that gave you the most glorious visual of them pressed to your chest. He wanted to drive down there, throw you over his shoulder to take you home, ripping that dress to shreds and bury himself inside your body.

He opted to stroking his hard length to the sultry image of you instead, picturing what it'd be like to pin you down beneath him, pumping you so full of his cock that it ruined you for any man that dared to pursue you.

The alcohol buzzed through your system as you danced with Felix and Han, feeling like you had gone to heaven and back. You body felt loose and any thoughts of what you originally came here for, had left your mind. You stopped momentarily whisper yelling to Han, "Going to grab another drink!"

He nodded as he looked back watching you disappear out of the crowd towards the bar, you looked over to where Changbin had been to see a girl was talking to him while feeling out the muscles in his arms. Shaking your head laughing you turned to waive the bartender over. Before the bartender could get to you, an unwelcome hand slid at your waist as you looked to meet the eyes of a man who was likely no more then a few inches taller then you, he reeked of cigarettes, alcohol, and smoothing musky that was unsettling.

"Can I buy a pretty thing like you a drink?" He asked as you pushed his hand away, he kept it smooth to your body as he slid it down over your ass with a snarl on your face.

"I don't take drinks from strangers, and I sure as hell don't take unwelcomed advances from them either." You said rolling your eyes and putting some distance.

"My name is Sejun, now we're not strangers." He said with a smirk as he eyed your figure. "At least let me buy your drink and keep you company till it's done."

You shouldn't but you allowed for it anyways. At least you would be getting a free drink out of it. The bartender took your order as Sejun began sizing you up, asking if you were alone, if you came with someone. Praying for any information that would indicate whether you had company.

The bartender dropped the drinks in front of him taking the cash, Sejun grabbed the drinks from the top of the rim sliding mine over to me.

"Well stranger, here's to a good night," He said smirking as he clinked his glass against us yours. As you brought the drink to your lips, you were caught off guard by the hand that immediately covered the drink and cause you to kiss the back of the hand. You irritation had peeked as you looked up at the stranger who had stopped you but you were met with shock when the hand took your drink holding it Sejun.

"How about you take the first taste?" The tall stranger held it to Sejun, the pieces began to click as you saw the all familiar look of someone who had been caught.

"What the fuck man-"

"Drink it. Drink it or I smash this glass right into your fucking head and drag you out back breaking every bone in your hands." Sejun took the drink hesitantly, bringing it to his lips as he drank the whole thing... Fear struck his face as he ran to the bathroom pushing through the crowd as the security clocked him, head directly for him.

This fucker had tried to spike your drink.

You finally saw the face of the stranger who had stopped you from a fate worse then death. The adrenaline pumped through you at the reality of what could have happened as you clutched the counter top of the bar.

"Sorry about that, I saw him stalking people in here and wasn't sure when he was gonna act. Let me get the the bartender to make you a new one."

The handsome stranger said as he pulled a barstool seat out for you to sit in. He was beautiful, dark hair cut into a wolf cut with soft waves that framed his pretty face. Lips full and pink that compliment the sharp eyes on his face.

"You alright? You look a little dazed." He asked as he pushed a strand of hair from your face.

"Yeah I... sorry the adrenaline of that situation might've just sobered me up."

"Sorry I didn't mean to frighten you but I couldn't just let that prick do something unforgivable." The bartender placed the new drink down, the stranger placed a napkin over it before putting it in front of me. The gesture of it didn't go unnoticed as he gave me a sweet look.

"Thank you. For stepping in like that... I don't know many people that would've or who would've have the vigilance to stop it."

"I can't take credit for human decency but I will say it gave me the perfect opportunity to approach you. I'm Hyunjin by the way." He smiled sweetly as he extended his hand out.

Chivalry, how sweet.

"I'm Y/N. Finally I have name to tell my story to my friends about my knight in shining black leather." You said playfully taking a sip of the vodka soda that settled your nerves.

He laughed at your joke, his eyes creasing in the cutest way, a stark contrast to what he looked like seconds ago when he threatened that guy.

The two of you casually talked, while Felix and Han looked around the room noticing it had been a while since you had left. They zeroed in on the close proximity of the stranger who sized you up, smiling ear to ear at everything you said. Noticing the way he dragged your stool closer to him so he could cage your crossed legs in with his, extending his leg to rest on bottom of your stool. His arm on the back of your seat as he leaned in to whisper in your ear as he pushed back your hair running the back of his hand down your exposed neck and shoulder. Changbin had glanced tom the dance floor to see Felix and Han gawking at something, he followed their gaze now settling in on the man who kissed you fervently.

oh fuck... minho is gonna kill him

-

part iv

[aventurineswife]

HII AUTHOR! ARE YOU HAVING A GOOD DAY? I HAVE A QUESTION. How would the SAHSRAU react if you suddenly got bored with HSR and switched to genshin?

Oh boy... The jealousy and the angst are sure burning up...

At first, they don’t notice.

Everything is normal. The Museum of Divinity still stands. Your artworks are still there. Your music still echoes through the stars.

But then… something changes.

The paintings stop appearing. The music stops playing. The museum doors remain shut.

The characters wait for your next command. It never comes.

The Galaxy is silent.

And that’s when they realize.

“There must be an explanation.”

Welt starts running calculations, probability theories, even dimensional travel theories—anything to explain your sudden disappearance.

Himeko sips her coffee, trying to stay calm, but her hands are shaking. “They’ll be back. They always come back.”

(You in fact did not come back.)

March 7th: "Uh, guys? You might wanna look at this..."

She holds up a blurry, pixelated screenshot she managed to capture—a screenshot of Teyvat.

Himeko’s mug shatters. (Like her heart ahem)

Blade stops moving entirely. His entire reason for existing has just left him behind.

Stares blankly at the sky, gripping his sword. If you are no longer here, then what purpose does he have?

Dan Heng acts calm, but he's already in crisis mode. He's scrolling through files, trying to find any clue as to why you left.

When he sees the Teyvat screenshot, his grip tightens on his spear.

Dan Heng: “…We’ve been abandoned.” (yeah no shit, Sherlock-)

Aventurine immediately plays it cool. "Well, well, well. Looks like our dear Creator has found another plaything."

Sunday is not calm.

"BETRAYAL! TREACHERY! ABANDONMENT! I HAVE BEEN CAST ASIDE!"

He dramatically collapses on the museum floor. Aventurine just watches with amusement.

But the second he sees the Teyvat screenshot—

Aventurine: “…Oh, you’ve got to be joking.”

They both hate the idea of you playing another game more than they hate each other.

Kafka smirks, but there’s a sharp edge to it. "So, you’ve moved on, huh?"

Black Swan looks at the fading murals of your art, her expression unreadable. “All things fade… but I never expected our Creator’s gaze to turn elsewhere.”

Deep down, they wonder—were they not enough?

Luocha: "I suppose even gods grow tired of their creations."

Jing Yuan: "Hah… It seems we have been cast aside for another world."

They act philosophical about it, but they’re both lowkey miserable.

Jing Yuan tries to joke about it, but even Yanqing notices something’s off.

Luocha stares at a fading portrait of you, quietly wondering if he will ever see your light again. (Probably not but ahem)

March 7th is the first to start coping.

"It’s fine, it’s fine! Maybe they’re just… on a vacation! Yeah! They’ll be back! Right?"

Sparkle is already scheming. "If our dear Painter has found another world… then perhaps it’s time we follow them there."

(They are actively looking for ways to break into Teyvat.)

Sighs, so the list goes on...

Blade stops fighting entirely. (What's the point if you're not watching?)

Dan Heng avoids everyone. (He refuses to believe it.)

Kafka and Black Swan start theorizing. (Will you return, or is this the end?)

Sunday begins plotting. (If they cannot bring you back, they will find a way to make you remember them.)

March 7th, Sparkle, and Aventurine?

They're looking for a way to invade Genshin. (Yeah, with Silver Wolf's help)

Days turn into weeks. Weeks turn into months.

They wait.

And wait.

And then—

One day—

A new painting appears.

It's… different.

A familiar signature, but a different style.

A mural of Teyvat.

And on that day, the last hope shatters.

You are gone.

Their Creator has truly moved on.

But that doesn’t mean they’ll stop searching for you. Not ever.

My back hurts... I'm taking away your guys' SAHSRAU privilege. I need someone to write this as a fic or expand it and I'm not gonna write it, that's for you. 🫶

[aliteralchicken]

What comics should I read to get to know tim

Tim has a lot of content, his first appearance is in Batman #436 and when DC saw he was a success they shoved him everywhere

If you want to read the issues chronologically or come back to lesser appearances later that’s up to you and how you read, as long as you got his origin and some Robin issues down you’ll understand what’s going on with him,

it’s a lot of content but don’t let it intimidate you, the fandom wikis and sites like league of comic geeks are great places to look up issues, which characters they contain and when they were released

But as a very quick list, mostly in order, all pre new 52:

backstory:

• “a lonely place of dying” is Tim’s origin and very essential reading

• detective comics 618-621 is Tim’s first case and the death of his mother

• Batman 455-457 is Tim becoming Robin

Robin 1991:

• robin (1991) Tim’s first solo, him being an independent hero and getting his iconic bo staff

• Robin 2 : jokers wild, joker is not pleased at all with Robin being “back”

•Robin 3: cry of the huntress, start of a great history of teaming up with Helena B. and introduces Tim’s first girlfriend Ari

Batman events:

tim is in a lot of Batman events, two personal fav of mine (specifically in terms of Tim) are “Batman prodigal” which has some fun Dick and Tim brotherly content and “Batman contagion” which is an interesting story overall

the ones he’s in usually contain an issue of Robin 1993 so can be read in accordance to that but events prior to Robin 1993 include “prelude to knightfall” (a lessor role but a good set up) and “knightfall” (where Bruce breaks his back) which I think are worth checking out

Ongoing solo:

Robin 1993: lasted until 2009, so there’s a lot of Tim content and arguably his most impotent run, it involves of lot of civilian plots which was a core part of Tim’s character

there’s a lot of issues with a lot of different writers, taking place at the time other comics and events, so you will need to prepare for possibly flicking through other runs to get the context needed if that’s what you want (though it’s usually labeled so you’ll know where to look)

it’s essential Tim reading but as I said there’s a lot of it and some issues are vastly different than others, though consistently the side charters are always pretty decent,

Other books: Tim appears in a lot of holiday specials, duo books, 80 page giants, team up books, secret origins ect. If you’re going to read them I’d mostly just go by date released,

but if you are planning on reading young justice I would suggest reading “worlds finest 3: robin/superboy”, “Robin plus impulse” and most importantly “young justice: the secret” before you do

team books:

young justice 1998: it’s a very fun read I adore all for the members, but for Tim specially: he’s in a leadership position for a while, we get to see the start of his long lasting relationships with Kon,Bart and Cassie and it’s a story that really cements the differences between Tim and Bruce

teen titans 2003: very different from YJ98, everyone’s more “mature” (see: mean and sexualised) but it does have a pretty significant impact on Tim’s character in the 2000’s, has the famous gun Batman and cloning Kon plot

Red Robin solo:

Tim’s most famous solo in fandom circles, it’s very good but the reason it’s so good is because it’s a love letter to his previous comics, this comic requires a lot of context of what was “currently” going on, Tim acts very out of character than he usually does and he has a very good reason to

it’s a great comic, good action and plots and I would highly recommend it but under no circumstances should you start with it, it will screw with your understanding of his character without the context needed

Overall: Tim is a very important bat character and so appears in a lot of Batman issues (as well as a bunch of other bat related titles like detective comics and shadow of the bat), and has important roles in many of those events,

he also cameos in comics of people he’s close to (like Nightwing) as well as seemingly random issues of other comics (for example vampire hunting with superman) which gives a lot of opportunity to see Tim written by different writers in situations he wouldn’t normally be in, which is always interesting

[onlyquinns]

COFFEE SHOP CONFESSIONS, q. hughes

pairing: quinn hughes x reader

content: sitting for a cup of coffee with quinn takes a turn when unspoken thoughts from years ago finally arise, angsty, quinn might be ooc, allusions to sex but no actual smut

rain patters harshly against the window panes of the little coffee shop quinn sits inside of, calloused fingers wrapped tenderly around a warm ceramic mug. his head is ducked low and his hair is pulled back into a black yankees cap—one that he had to steal back from jack during the devils's short visit to the city.

a memory from years ago comes to the front of his mind as he peers up at you sitting across from him; glimpses of long limbs tangled in his sheets, his hands and fingers pressed into your soft skin, your hair sprawled out beneath you, and the soft sound of gasps and moans.

he doesn’t know how the two of you have got to this point, gone from lovers and best friends to acquaintances who meet once or twice in a blue moon to ‘catch up,’ an excuse quinn makes up every time to see your face one more time before he thinks you’ll inevitably refuse to.

you glance up from your own mug and smile softly at quinn, and he tries to memorize every freckle and faded acne scar on your face, so desperate to recall the way you look in the case you go from acquaintances to strangers. your cheeks are far less rounded now than when you’d first met during orientation at umich, more defined now that you’re older and out of college, and quinn is so devastatingly aware of how sharper and more defined his own face is—how fast time goes by without you by his side even though to him it feels like an eternity.

“so,” you start softly, drawing quinn from his thoughts, “what’s up?” you say it so casually that quinn’s chest aches and he swallows harshly, his throat dry and burning.

“aren’t you sick of this?” he blurts, his green-blue eyes peering at his own reflection in his coffee mug. the distorted version of himself seems to mock him, glaring at him for trying to destroy something that could be good with someone the both of them need.

confusion splits across your face, soft smile turned unsure and brows pinched together—quinn grips his mug a little tighter to keep himself from smoothing the space between them over, a habit he’d developed during your first finals week in college.

“i don’t know what you mean,” you tell him, unsure smile now gone and a small frown pulling at your lips instead. you tilt your chin down toward your mug and stare blankly into the liquid inside, losing yourself in the dark contents. “what’s there to be sick of?”

anger bubbles in quinn’s chest, not at you—never at you—but at the situation he’s put himself in. “this,” he vaguely insists, freeing his mug from his rough fingers and instead taking hold of his cap and hair. “where we act like i’m not in love with you anymore, where we pretend everything is fine and ignore that at one point we knew every detail about one another. aren’t you sick of that?”

tears prickle in your eyes, blurring your vision slightly. quinn’s right; you were so tired of pretending with him, so exhausted from going about your daily life trying to rid yourself of every thought of him only to end up back in vancouver in a desperate act to see him again.

“yeah, i am,” you whimper, breaking quinn’s heart a fraction. “i’m really tired of acting like… like i don’t pretend every other person i’ve ever been with is you.”

your admission sends shock rippling through quinn’s body, stunning him momentarily. the little reflection of himself in his coffee mug ripples away, like a little spirit finished with what it intended to do before separating from the real world.

“then don’t,” he tells you, reaching toward you to grip your soft fingers between his. he runs his thumb in circles and letters over the backs of your knuckles, the action soothing for the both of you. “i want to be yours—if you’ll let me. i won’t mess things up this time; i won’t leave you.”

your fingers weakly grip his, trembling in his hold. your guys’ drinks are long cold and the rain outside has lightened, inviting the sun back through the clouds. light streaks across quinn’s eyes, wide and hopeful, and the growing sunlight highlights the specks of brown scattered through the blue.

you inhale deeply, the sound rattly from the unshed tears and emotions deep in your chest. “what if you do, though,” you breathe. “what if i wake up and one day you’re gone, realized i’m not worth it.” insecurity plagues your mind, ebbing its way into your features, into the way you look at quinn through watery lashes.

quinn’s heart sinks deeper with your words, regret filling his entire body. “i’m sorry for leaving you,” he says, inhaling deeply as the memory of his last morning in michigan with you several years ago comes to mind. he’d left you still asleep in his bed at his parents’ house, the sheets curled tightly to your chest and smelling so heavily like him you hadn’t noticed he’d left. “it was a stupid mistake. i didn’t realize that what i had back then—with you—was the best thing to have ever happened to me. i thought… i thought playing in the nhl was the most important thing to have ever happened to me, but i know now that it was actually meeting you—loving you, being loved by you. i’m sorry.”

tears stream down your cheeks as you sob in the quiet coffee shop, fingers tightly digging into quinn’s. the way he looks at you is so earnest you have no choice but to believe him, believe that if you were to pack up your life back home and haul it to canada that quinn wouldn’t abandon you like an old toy after a week.

“please,” quinn nearly begs as he squeezes your hand even tighter, knuckles whitening against yours. “i need you in every way possible, in every universe ever. we can work things out, here in vancouver���or anywhere. i’d drop anything, everything, for you. i promise—i swear.”

quinn’s throat bobs as he watches you intently, waiting for a response. you nod your head furiously, nose scrunched up as you choke on a sob. you cover your mouth with the back of your free hand, still nodding.

“okay,” you rasp against your hand, tears no longer streaming down your face. “i believe you. we can work this out together. i believe you.”

quinn ducks his head graciously, reaching across to cup your hand with both of his. his palms easily envelop yours, tightly wrapped around it as if you’ll take your words back and walk away from him forever.

“thank you,” he whispers, his lips nearly brushing the table. “thank you.”

all photos from pinterest

[studiogrimm810]

Awakening Flames

pairings/characters: (pining) sam winchester x gn!you

summary: the smoke, the fire... it brings back memories of jess and awakens feelings in sam that you didn't even think he had for you to begin with

warnings: house fire, smoke inhalation, mentions of blood, metions of ptsd

word count: 3,619

A/N: goddamn, that picture of sam breaks my fucking heart

———————

Sam has always been protective, gentle, and admittedly a little clingy when it came to you, but you knew that with such a troubled past, it made sense. And it never created any real problems. Sure, he can be a little overbearing during hunts or a little obsessive when it comes to you being alone with even a whiff of danger in the air, but you just know it’s because he cares about you. And you also know that deep down, you can be the same way.

Although, in all of your years of hunting together you have never seen him panic like he had tonight. You have absolutely no clue what wire snapped in Sam’s mind that made him act like this. The two of you have been on plenty of hunts, fought dozens of different creatures and even had your fair share of close calls. It didn’t make sense why he was freaking out now.

It was routine, classic even. For the past week or so, you and Sam had been tracking a couple of demons wreaking havoc on towns along a stretch of highway in southern Illinois and you had finally cornered them hiding out in an abandoned apartment complex.

It was a tough fight at first but eventually the demons dropped like flies and it was left to one last poor possessed woman. You were close, so you tackled her, wrestling her to the floor and swinging your angel blade wildly in an attempt to slice any exposed skin.

But once Sam made it back into the living room with you and the last demon, it had already been done.

The demon had flipped you over, straddling you. She knocked the blade out of your hand and dashed out of the open doorway closer to the two of you, knocking over a bottle of whiskey in the process. The crash of the bottle mixed with an even sharper shatter of glass in the other room due to the demon's quick escape. The bottle, of course, landed right next to the lit fireplace and flames quickly crawled past the iron platter that the logs rested on. It spat out harsh heat that quickly climbed the rotted curtains next to the fireplace.

It all happened so fast, and now half of the room was swallowed in red and orange flames by the time you can get to your feet. The smoke clouds the room and you can hear Sam calling for you. You spin to find him on the other side of the room at the other doorway that opens into the hallway that leads out of the apartment. Outside. Where you need to be right the fuck now.

You cough and crouch down to try and escape some of the smoke. Sam calls your name again, “stay low! Hold on, I-I’ll get to you, just-,” he flicks back and forth, looking for anything to help him.

“Sam, go! I’ll find my way out,” you cough, turning to find out where the demon escaped from.

“No! No, don’t-,” Sam begs, his voice cracking in the process. You turn back to look at him and can see beautiful drips of flames falling up towards the ceiling, illuminating his face. He looks terrified. Because, what you don’t know, is what he sees is your face exactly like you see his. Exactly like Jess.

All you knew about Jess was that she was Sam’s college girlfriend who died at the hands of Azazel.

The smoke fills Sam’s nostrils and the heat pushes him mentally back onto the plush cushion of his once shared bed. His mind rings with ‘please’s’ and ‘no, not again’s’. He’s completely panicked and irrational and he doesn’t know how to save you.

He never knows how to save them.

Jess.

Madison.

You.

And you don’t know what’s even going on in his mind enough to level with him, because from here he still just looks rabid with fear.

“Sam, you have to trust me,” you cough, trying to ignore the burn in your lungs. You take a few steps back to see that your only doorway leads to a kitchen with a broken window and, if you’re lucky enough, a fire escape. “Go downstairs and around back, I’ll have to jump,” another series of nasty coughs falling past your lips seems to snap him out of his funk just enough to listen.

“I’ll be there,” he nods, his feet moving before his mind catches up with him and he has to tear away his eyes from yours.

Now you can just focus on getting out of here. The smoke has started to make you dizzy but you promised Sam. The kitchen was a mossy mess, a little slippery but enough organic matter to really kick this fire up a notch. You have to hurry. You make it to the window, ignoring the left over shards of glass stuck in the pane because the fire is only getting hungrier.

It’s a two story drop below but with no ladder or help to get down because apparently, luck is rarely on your side. Sam rounds the corner as soon as you fully access your severely fucked situation. He knows it too.

But you promised.

You have to jump, it’s all that’s left. Sam stands right under the window, his arms raised and his eyes still irrational, “I’ll catch you,” he nods, encouraging you to evacuate. The fire has claimed the first half of the kitchen already and your silhouette is lit up like a halo by the orange flames. Sam’s heart is racing in his chest, making each second feel like an eternity.

“Sam-,” you start to argue but he barks back.

“No! Just jump, now!” He demands, using a voice he’s never used on you before and honestly it makes your stomach flip at the authority. You let your brain just turn off so you can listen to his instructions thoughtlessly. You climb over the pane, holding onto the splintery wood and trying to avoid any loose shards of glass.

“Fuck,” you whisper after positioning yourself just right. You let go, your organs delayed with your body causing the worst roller coaster feeling to bubble about your stomach. You land into Sam, tumbling you both to the soft grass beneath you with a forced grunt. His hands quickly wrap around your form the second you hit into his chest and he makes a point to take the full impact of the fall. He swallows the grunt that threatens to erupt into a low whine of pain.

You quickly roll off over top of him to allow him to take full breaths because you heard the air get knocked out of him but his grip doesn’t leave your waist even with half of your body off of him. You still manage to sit up, having a coughing fit trying to catch your lungs up with your racing heart.

Sam sits up, a bit dazed but the adrenaline of almost losing you like that powered him like a sedan engine full of diesel, it was enough to damage him as he forced himself to keep pushing his limits.

“Are you okay?” His hands reach out, cupping your face to make you look at him. You try to resist the grip so that you don’t cough in his face but he doesn’t seem to care about that. As you now get a good look at his face you see a glossy well of tears about to spill from his eyes and your heart melts with aching empathy.

“I-I’m fine,” your voice is rough and aching, but you force out the words in hopes to bring him down just a bit. He looks you over, pushing hair out of your face and checking any exposed skin for burn marks.

“Your hands,” he breathes out, holding your palms up so he can inspect them closer. As you look down at them, only then does the stinging pain register. When you lept from the window, apparently you weren’t as careful with the pane as you thought. Both palms are scratched up and bleeding, speckled with a few loose pieces of glass or wood. He doesn’t have the supplies on him now to help, just now remembering the duffle he brought along for the hunt is gone, swallowed by the burning lake inside.

He looks at the window that you jumped out of and then back down at you, pushing out a shaken breath, “okay, I need to get you out of here, back to the motel and I can get you cleaned up.” He nods, his gaze fixed on your palms again. Before you have time to respond, he’s standing and pulling you up with him, keeping a firm hold on your waist as he leads you back to the Impala. He helps you get settled in the passenger seat and hurries to the other side, keeping an eye out for any trouble.

“Sam,” you start as he climbs into the driver's side and ignites the engine.

“Are you sure you didn’t get burnt? That was a bad fall. Your clothes are singed, you need fresh clothes,” he rattles off, speeding back into the direction of the motel.

“Sam!” You try again, louder this time and it causes a fresh line of sickening coughs. You hunch over in your lap, holding your chest and trying to settle your breathing but the thick smoke that invaded your nose has stuck along your throat and trickled into your lungs. It burns.

“Hey, hey-, you with me?” He asks, torn between pulling over or continuing his race to get you as far away from the growing cloud of smoke. You only continue coughing in response and he jerks the car to the side of the road so that he can give you his full attention. He just can’t help himself.

He puts the car in park and jumps out, rounding the vehicle to open your own door so you can get some fresh air that he hopes to god will help. The strangled coughs interrupted by the weak wheezing of each breath you took constricted his chest, almost replicating a singe in his own lungs. Almost.

“Okay, just let it out, focus on your breathing, you’ll be okay,” he helps you turn your body so your legs are out of the Impala and he pushes back some more of your hair. After a few more deep coughs that rattle your throat, you're able to take fuller breaths that are noticeably satisfying now. “Better?” He asks, his hand on your thigh, closer than he would usually get but you can’t seem to mind.

You just nod, not wanting to risk speaking again and letting it be followed by a string of more nasty coughs that edge Sam closer and closer to an early grave. You still can’t put together why he got so freaked.

“Good, now I really want to get you back to the motel so I can clean up those hands,” he looks back down at your blood-slick palms. You just nod again.

After getting back on the road, and going just 10 over the speed limit this time, Sam called in the fire to local authorities and slid his phone back in his pocket. By now, it wasn’t too far from the motel and you could already see the neon lights.

Sam slows down to make a safe, but still a bit jerky, turn into the motel parking lot and puts her in park. You’d reckon Dean would be at Sam’s throat for how he’s treating his baby. Or maybe Dean would be better than you and actually put two and two together as to why he’s so damn jumpy.

Sam ushers you towards the room you booked a few hours ago and leads you to the bed, resting you gently on the edge.

“I’ll be right back,” Sam’s eyes take in any detail of your face that he can in a desperate attempt to settle his nerves a bit, but he just cannot seem to calm down. With a weighted breath, he stands and goes back out to the Impala to get the necessities for post-hunt clean up.

You just try to catch up with the past 20 minutes of your life.

But before you can, Sam is already pulling up a chair to sit across from you as he gently takes one of your hands to examine again.

“None of the cuts are too deep, won’t even need stitches,” a quick smile perks his lips as he lets out a puff of air that you're convinced still contained some smoke from that fire from how tense he’s been. You watch him as his pinched brows frame such worry struck eyes. You can’t emphasize enough just how weird this is. “Should probably run them under water,” he looks up at you before helping you over to the bathroom sink to do so.

You don’t need more help walking but, Jesus, you don’t have the heart to push him away.

He makes extra sure that the water is at an okay temperature before introducing it to your palms. And you still hiss when the water meets them, no matter it being too cool or too hot, it still stung like a bitch and made you instinctively lean away from the faucet. Sam brings over a hand towel to wet before using it to wash away any blood from the uninjured surfaces of your hands, cleaning up all that he can so as to reduce your discomfort.

It’s quiet once he gets to work on removing the splinters and shards of glass, his hands steady as ever and his focus honed in on your palms. Nothing more. Nothing less.

He also gave you a glass of water to help with the dry burn in your throat, even making sure there was a straw so you wouldn’t have to pick up the glass. So thoughtful. You waited for your breathing to be easy enough for you to trust your speech before finally asking the question that itched the tip of your tongue.

“Sam?” You start, your voice still raspy and it aches as it rubs out of your vocal chords, but you push through. His head pops up and looks over your features to try and gauge what was wrong now because why else would you try to talk? His mind is still in panic-mode and he subconsciously readies solutions for worst case scenarios. “What happened back there?” You follow up before he can rush out another prod to how you’re doing or if something’s wrong.

His jaw clenches and he swallows whatever invisible mouthful he had and his eyes gloss over- not with tears this time but a momentary lack of focus. Like he’s thinking back to something. He looks back down at the hand which still has some shards in it but the tweezers don’t move. You would almost expect the gears turning in his head were about to supply you a fresh round of smoke to choke on, but then he speaks.

“I’m sorry.”

Okay, that you weren’t expecting. Sure, maybe it felt like he was blowing it a tiny bit out of proportion, but it was still a life or death scenario, and his reaction was obviously triggered by something that he shouldn’t feel ashamed of. Your first thought was maybe it reminded him of his time in Hell. With Lucifer. The thought makes a tickle of bile rise up in your throat that starts to sting the already sore tissue.

“I just freaked.”

Under any other circumstance you would have laughed at his understatement. But the pain in his still unfocused, far away look stops the urge before you realize it was there in the first place.

“The fire?” It was the only thing you could think of, the only thing that was different from a usual hunt. He nods, eyes still unfocused. It really gave you nothing to go off of. You already figured it was the fire and you just wanted to know why.

He’s working his jaw, mulling over how exactly he wants to word this- if he even wants you to hear it in the first place. His shoulders slump and he sets aside the tweezers, running a hand down his face. The hand almost works like a magic trick- revealing the caught up toll that this night has taken on his mental state with one swift swipe.

“Jess,” he offers the name, just testing if his voice can keep from breaking. It doesn’t, but he keeps going anyway because he knows that he scared you and it makes him feel sick. Almost as sick as seeing fire frame your body like a mane. Almost as sick as the images of Jess that assaulted his closed lids when he tried to steady himself. Almost, but not quite, so he decides not to apologize again. “Dean ever tell you how our mom died?” Sam asks, not looking up to face you just yet.

Fuck. Of course.

“Oh,” you breathe out, remembering Dean mentioning that a demon set their childhood home ablaze, taking their mothers life with the fall.

“Jess died the same way. Azazel,” Sam continues, choosing his words carefully and selecting them out with proper timing so he doesn’t break too soon. “He pinned her to the ceiling-.”

What?

“And burned her alive above me.”

The fuck?

“Just like he did to our mom.”

Okay, those details were left out of Dean’s story altogether but you can’t really blame him for skipping them.

You’re speechless, unable to remember any words that you spent the last 30 some-odd years using. Of course he freaked out.

“I’m so sorry, Sam,” and you are. Truly. You couldn’t imagine what it felt like to lose a partner like that. You’ve lost people but never like that. Never so… just out of your reach.

“I just couldn’t stand the thought of losing you like that too.”

That makes sense.

“I lost Jess, Madison, and I just couldn’t-,” he voice breaks and his head dips down as the words die just before his lips.

Wait, what? You really want this man to stop throwing curve balls and let you catch up to literally anything. But his words get you thinking. He was triggered by the flames, reminded of Jess’ death, but not just that, it was a fear of losing you. Comparing you to Jess and whoever this Madison was. What was he implying?

He sniffled before bringing his head back up, not looking at you just yet but you can tell that he’s trying to work up the nerve again. He hasn’t even realized his slip up, his choice of words that reveal deeper feelings that are buried under the fear that comes with this life and the effects it has on those you allow yourself to love.

“I just-, I thought I was going to lose you like I lost them and I freaked and I didn’t mean to scare you,” he finally gets his eyes back up at yours, reddened and wet. He doesn’t apologize again like you thought he would and you’re thankful that he doesn’t feel ashamed enough to do it a second time.

“I get it,” you assure, holding his gaze with the swirling subconscious thought of his choice of wording just a few paces ago. Thoughts that get slammed to the front line of your thinking as his eyes dart down to your lips- not scanning for signs of discomfort, but just to your lips.

“You didn’t scare me,” you shake your head, watching him as he watches you. Locked in this tunnel vision hooked between the two of you, growing shorter and shorter without either of you realizing it.

“I just need you to be okay.” He whimpers the words like a prayer. Like you’re the only being who can grant him his wish if he’s needy enough. If he begs enough. 

“I’m okay, Sam,” you only need to whisper now, the heat of your words hitting his lips that are so close you could practically taste him. He swallows, holding just your eyes now, his own not dipping down to your lips or your hair or your neck. Even if the last one would rile you up enough to make a move.

“Okay,” he whispers back, still a raw echo of words that tug on your heart. You want to ask him why- why he chose that specific wording, why he panicked in such a way that exposed himself, why the tension between you couldn’t back hacked with a fucking butcher knife. But you don’t. You don’t say a word as he goes back to plucking the foreign objects from your palm. As much as you want to be reckless and spontaneous and just take what you want to be yours- you don’t.

You don’t because the look that stains his face is one of utter exhaustion- mental and physical. This night has wrecked him more than you know him to outwardly admit to anytime soon.

You don’t because this isn’t how he would want it, and you fear he will take it as an act of thankfulness or obligation on your part.

You don’t because the man in front of you deserves better. He deserves the memory of the two of you to not be a tainted bond of his PTSD but of a memorable connection built from the years of friendship and love he’s already given you.

He deserves your best, and you’re prepared to offer him just that when he’s ready.

———————

thank you so much for reading!! <3

>pictures are not my own, i have the originals linked here (pinterest) >>check out my other works here

[madthetruemad]

There is No Law that Emperors Must be Fair

Emperor ! Jing Yuan x Princess ! Reader

Chapter 18 | Nightly Visitors

You are set to marry the Emperor, Jing Yuan. In order to break the engagement, you stage an accident and fake having amnesia. But now, your own cruel, cold, and distant fiancé, who seemed to not want anything to do with you, is now acting all lovey dovey!

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Feixiao invited herself into your room as you closed the door behind her. Seeing such a person was still unbelievable to you. Heck, you thought you would never meet the emperor either, and yet here you are. Feixiao then turned to you after she inspected your room, her eyes were shining as knelt before you causing you to jump.

“Princess.”

“Y- yes?”

She tilted her head up at you, “I know it is wrong of me to ask such things of you, but I need your help,” she raised her hand to you making you hesitate before gently laying your palm into her own to which she gently took a hold of, “the Emperor is treading down a dangerous path and I wish to stop him before he burns down the whole world in his wake.”

“I- I don’t know how to help you though…”

Feixiao’s gaze landed on the key necklace around your neck, and you got the picture quickly, “the other key,” you managed to say.

Feixiao nodded while still holding your hand, “will you help me get it?”

You closed your eyes and thought for a moment, getting home was proving harder than you thought, “alright…, I’ll help.”

But, you thought to yourself, I can’t let them revive Sunday with those keys. There must be another use for the keys which is why everyone wants them so bad.

You jumped a little when you felt her lips press against your knuckles before she stood up, her grin almost infectious, “thank you, princess, and I promise, once this is all over I’ll get you home!”

She had bid you goodnight then, leaving your room in a hurry as you were once again left to your thoughts.

“Too much as happened today,” you mumbled as you started to finally feel tired, but the call to your bed was short lived as there was yet another knock on your door causing you to groan outwardly. You were quite popular tonight it seems.

“What is it-,” you voice got cut off when you opened the door, “Blade?”

“The Emperor wishes to speak with you.”

“At this hour? And besides, I thought I told you to get lost,” you peeked outside the door in hopes of seeing Gepard, but he has already retired for the night.

Blade raised his hand causing you to flinch, but he merely held the door open to keep you from slamming it shut.

“I wasn’t… going to hurt you.”

You opened your eyes and looked at him, “r- right, sorry…”

“If it is any consolation, the emperor isn’t summoning you because you’re in trouble.”

“Then why? Is it about earlier?”

Blade said nothing as he stepped aside causing you to sigh and go back into your room to grab your blanket and wrap it around yourself so you wouldn’t be prancing around in just a nightgown.

“And your shoes?”

“I’ll be fine,” you said as you briefly realized you didn’t own a pair of fluffy slippers. Though, you yelped loudly when you felt yourself get lifted, your feet were no longer touching the cold marble floor as Blade held you close to his chest.

“Blade-!”

“Just let me hold you like this until we get to the Emperor.”

You quieted as you stared at his face, his expression looked… sad.

“Blade… what’s wrong?”

Truthfully you weren’t mad at Blade. Yes, he did sort of out you in one of your other lives, but it wasn’t like he was your enemy, and Sunday’s plans for him…

He did not answer you as he escorted you to Jing Yuan’s bedroom, and to hopefully console Blade in some way you decided to wrap your arms around his neck and lay your head against his chest as he carried you. You do not know what has happened with him in the past hours from when you last saw him, but you hoped it didn’t have anything to do with Sunday.

Maybe he knows what is to be done with him.

“We’re here.”

You lifted your head as you were once again brought to Jing Yuan’s door.

Blade had gently set you down, your feet instantly feeling the cold floor as you steadied yourself and raised your hand to knock on his door. You looked to Blade when you heard a faint come in from deep within the room, and Blade merely shook his head, “I am to stay here.”

You turned back towards the door and grabbed onto the handle and pushed it open.

“Close the door behind you,” Jing Yuan said to which you obeyed and when you looked back you saw that Blade was no longer looking at you as you closed the door. A small part of you wished that this was still your first life where Blade had promised to protect you.

“You were here earlier weren’t you? When that maid greeted you at the door?”

When you finally brought yourself to look at Jing Yuan you found it odd how he wasn’t dressed in his usual armor. Instead he was wearing a simple dress shirt and black slacks. It was a nice change.

“Y- yes, it was. I am deeply sorry about that by the way. If I had known that you and the maids were … that close, then I swear I wouldn’t have intervened like that.”

Jing Yuan chuckled softly, “then why is it that I sense so much anger from you?”

He was sitting at a table situated in his room and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him or at how relaxed he was which was when you finally noticed it. Your nose crinkled when the strong stench of blood hit you in full force.

“W- what- what is that?”

You looked around briefly before your eyes landed to the doorway leading to his bedroom, on the floor in there you could see a large pool of blood slowly forming. Jing Yuan followed your gaze, “ah yes, that. I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.”

You didn’t listen as you took shaky steps towards it, and when you got to where he was seated he grabbed your wrist, but you had a clear view now. There was the maid, dead on the floor. Blood splatters painted the room like some horror story you would hear in the dead of the night to scare children from sneaking out of the house.

“Why-“

Jing Yuan harshly tugged on you causing you to stumble to the side and fall right into his lap.

“When you became my beloved fiancé I had every intention of stopping my little trysts with the maids. However, there were a few who were determined to keep their places as common whores.”

You shook within his hold, your fear becoming quite amusing to him.

“You should be happy, aren’t I proving myself to be loyal? The moment I took your hand, I made it clear to my servants that I only wanted to be devoted to you, but… give them a little attention and suddenly they think they have me wrapped around their finger…”

He made you look away from the maid, “do you believe me?”

You felt if you said yes or no then that would be a boring answer, and you knew how he felt about boring people. If only I was that princess from his past, then he wouldn’t be treating me this way, you thought.

“Then why was she in your room if you made it clear you weren’t doing that anymore?”

Jing Yuan let go of your arm as he sat back in his chair, your legs now straddling him as they hung off each side of him. Your blanket was long forgotten on the floor by this point and your hands, oh you didn’t know what to do with them, so you settled with resting them on his hard muscled chest.

“She wanted to hurt you because she knew that you would be coming to me or, at least, that I would be coming to get you.”

He moved his hands to rest on your hips, and you briefly wondered where his key was.

“And you promise that nothing happened you just- just,” you struggled to say it but managed somehow, “killed her?”

“I promise you my life.”

Despite being around a dead body, you had to admit that you were at least no longer mad about the whole ordeal, though, a part of you still felt bad. The maid lost her life after all.

“So… where are you planning to sleep now?”

His eyes glinted in the lamp light making you feel uneasy about the answer he was about to give.

“Your room, of course.”

@danae-misfortune @frogsasfrogs @openthenyoor01 @zuhaine @ughlostmyotherac @joyfulnightprincess @thechibifoxcub @ceaether @satanisasofties @thetwinkims @yanrandom @honeybunbunn @superdonkeypatroleggs @ohmyfinggod @baboon-milk333 @zareri @kclremin @rains-mae @yccoffeesimp @bloomiesty @moon-taffy @superdark-soul @pinkismyfavcolor @isa-l0v3r @its-astrotea-love @reapersan @junephantom21 @erisfayred @greyrain23 @justadekusimp @uzxotic @alisstaa @avalordream @unlivingdisaster @pix-stuff @sleepyxion14 @pillows-blankets @anicega @junni-berry @niaainthere @sorachitsuki @dyingsweetmackerel @rosariymchapter @immahuman @fluffy-koalala @momoniq @orphiclueur @insightedly

[scoupsakakitty]

Snowflakes | idol!Jeonghan x Reader | fluff

It all started as a spontaneous trip. Y/N had been a little surprised when Jiwoo, her best friend, invited her along for a ski weekend, but what really caught her off guard was the twist: Jiwoo’s boyfriend, Seungcheol, had insisted that Jeonghan come along too.

“Jeonghan?” Y/N raised an eyebrow when Jiwoo mentioned the name. “Why him?”

“Well,” Jiwoo said with a teasing grin, “you know how the fans can be. Seungcheol thought it would look less suspicious if Jeonghan came along. Plus, we need to balance it out, so I figured I’d ask you to join!”

Y/N laughed softly, appreciating Jiwoo’s thoughtfulness. “Sounds like a setup for a reality show or something.”

Despite the oddity of it all, Y/N agreed. And soon enough, they were all packed and on their way to a cozy cabin in the mountains, surrounded by the winter wonderland of snow-covered trees and icy peaks.

The first day of skiing was pure chaos everyone falling, laughing, and trying to get their bearings on the slopes. By the evening, they were all back at the cabin, warming up by the fire. A big pot of hot chocolate was waiting, and the group decided to pass the time with a friendly game of Uno.

“I’m warning you guys now,” Jeonghan said, winking, “I’m a professional Uno player. Don’t try anything funny, or I’ll catch you.”

Y/N smirked from across the table. “You’re the one who should be careful, Jeonghan. I know all the tricks.”

“Ah, is that so?” Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “We’ll see about that.”————————————————————————————-The atmosphere was light, everyone was deeply involved in the game, and the laughs kept coming. But Y/N, ever the observant one, started to notice something off about Jeonghan.

She watched as he casually slipped cards between his legs, thinking no one would notice. But Y/N wasn’t that easy to fool.

“Stop! You’re sitting on your cards! Stand up!” she suddenly shouted, her eyes locking onto Jeonghan’s suspicious behavior as she snatched the remaining cards from the table.

He blinked in confusion. “What? Me?” he asked, acting innocent, but it was too late. Y/N had caught him red-handed.

“Stand up, Jeonghan!” she repeated, a mischievous grin spreading across her face, and everyone stared at him in anticipation.

He slowly got up, and as he did, two cards fell out of his ass. With a loud plop, they hit the floor, and the room erupted in laughter.

“Oh my god, really?” Jiwoo cried out, clutching her stomach as the group burst into uncontrollable fits of laughter.

Jeonghan stood there, utterly stunned, while Y/N was bent over, practically in tears from laughing so hard. “Seriously? You thought I wouldn’t notice?” Y/N gasped between giggles.

“I… I don’t know what happened!” Jeonghan stammered, his face turning bright red as the group continued to laugh at his expense.

It was a moment they would never forget, and as they calmed down, everyone couldn’t help but tease him for the rest of the night.————————————————————————————-After their game, the group settled in for the night. But there was a problem: the cabin only had two rooms, and since Y/N and Jeonghan were the last ones to claim the second room, they were forced to share it.

“We’ll just sleep on opposite sides of the bed,” Y/N said with a shrug. The bed was large enough for the both of them to keep some space.

However, the problem was the cold. The old cabin didn’t have central heating, and the night air was bitterly cold. Y/N pulled the blanket closer around herself but still found herself shivering under the weight of the chill.

Jeonghan lay still in the darkness, hearing the soft clattering of Y/N’s teeth. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should say something. After all, they weren’t close like that… yet.

“You cold?” Jeonghan finally asked, breaking the silence.

Y/N let out a soft, embarrassed sigh. “Yeah, a little. It’s freezing in here…”

Jeonghan turned his head slightly, his voice soft. “Well… I guess there’s no harm in sharing some warmth. Come here.”

Y/N blinked at him in surprise, but without much thought, she scooted closer to him. The warmth from his body was a welcome relief, and she felt her shivering slow.

“Thanks,” she murmured.

Jeonghan, noticing the awkwardness in the air, decided to break the tension by talking. “I’m not great at keeping people warm, but I can at least tell some stories to distract you.”

Y/N chuckled. “I’ll take stories over nothing.”

Jeonghan smirked, his voice turning light-hearted. “Okay, well, I have plenty of stories from the tour. Like the time DK tried to cook for everyone and nearly set the kitchen on fire…”

Y/N laughed, imagining the chaos. “I can totally picture that.”

And so, the conversation flowed, from funny tour mishaps to embarrassing moments. But eventually, Jeonghan couldn’t help but ask, “So… how did you know I was cheating at Uno?”

Y/N grinned. “Let’s just say, I’ve used the same trick before. You weren’t as slick as you thought.”

Jeonghan snorted in disbelief. “So, you’re a cheater too, huh?”

Y/N shrugged playfully. “Only when necessary. You should’ve seen me beat Jiwoo at Monopoly once.”

“That’s my girl,” Jeonghan said, laughing softly. The atmosphere had shifted, and it no longer felt awkward. They were just two friends in the middle of a snowy mountain, sharing warmth and laughter.

Suddenly, without thinking, Jeonghan blurted out, “You have a really cute laugh.”

Y/N froze for a second, her heart doing an unexpected little flip. “Um, thanks,” she said, her voice a little quieter. She turned her face away, not sure if it was the heat from being close to him or the compliment that was making her blush.

There was a long, comfortable silence after that, and soon they both fell asleep, the crackling of the fire the only sound in the room.————————————————————————————-The next morning, they all piled into the car to head back, exhausted from the late-night talks and the skiing. Y/N, still tired, leaned against Jeonghan’s shoulder as the car bumped along the mountain roads. Within minutes, she was asleep.

Jeonghan, too, had his eyes drifting shut. Slowly, he leaned his head onto hers, too tired to care that it might seem strange.

Seungcheol, who was driving, glanced at the rearview mirror and caught sight of the two of them. A small smile tugged at his lips as he nudged Jiwoo, who was sitting beside him.

“Looks like our friends are getting pretty cozy,” he whispered, his voice amused.

Jiwoo peered at the backseat and smirked. ��They definitely are. Maybe we’ll go on double dates soon?”

Seungcheol chuckled, nodding. “That’d be nice. But for now, let’s just let them have their moment.”

Jiwoo secretly took a picture of the sleeping pair, capturing the peaceful scene. It was a quiet, content moment one that neither Y/N nor Jeonghan had expected but would both remember forever.

As the car drove through the snowy mountains, the two friends slept soundly, completely unaware of the subtle change between them. Perhaps it was just the beginning of something more.

————————————————————————————-

[littlelamy]

hey queen was wondering if you could do an angsty rafe fic don’t care what the topic is just need my soul to be crushed tbh…

anyway love your work😛😛

lamy's note: thank you bby!! i hope i did it justice! 💗

the evening clung to the air, heavy and suffocating like a storm waiting to break. you stepped into the mansion, your heels clicking against the marble floors, echoing in the quiet stillness of tan lines and rosegold hues. everything about tonight felt off. rafe’s texts had been sporadic, distracted. but you’d convinced yourself it was just his usual mood swings—the volatility that came with his name, his family, his demons.

“just come over,” he’d said earlier, voice low like he was speaking through gritted teeth. you’d asked if everything was okay, but the curt reply and abrupt end to the call told you everything you needed to know. he was pissed about something. probably ward. maybe topper. or… maybe you.

anxiety gnawed at the edge of your thoughts, a sharp-toothed beast sinking into your resolve. still, you went. because it’s rafe. and you’ve never been able to stop yourself when it comes to him. his pull was magnetic, a gravity you couldn’t escape no matter how much it burned.

but as you approached the living room, your heart sank. voices. hers.

sofía.

your pulse quickened, thundering in your ears. you knew sofía had been hanging around more. her smile always too sweet, her touch lingering a second too long when she’d brush rafe’s arm at parties. you’d pretended not to notice. pretended to trust him. because rafe promised you, over and over again, that he was yours.

but now, as you turned the corner, you saw it.

rafe’s back was to you, broad shoulders taut under the strain of whatever this was. sofía stood inches from him, her hand on his chest, and before you could even process what was happening, she leaned in, pressing her lips to his.

for a moment, it felt like time stopped. your lungs seized, your vision blurred. the room tilted like you’d just stepped off a spinning carnival ride, nausea and disbelief crashing into you all at once.

“rafe,” you choked out, voice cracking under the weight of betrayal.

his head snapped up, his blue eyes wide with shock. “baby, it’s not—”

“this isn’t what it looks like!” sofía interrupted, a perfect picture of feigned innocence, but you saw the glint in her eye, the slight curl of her lips. she wanted this. she wanted you to see.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?” you spat, glaring at her. your hands were trembling now, the fight-or-flight adrenaline coursing through you making every nerve hum with raw energy. “are you seriously trying to act like i didn’t just see you?”

sofía shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. her expression was maddeningly calm, like she was toying with a piece of prey. “he didn’t kiss me back,” she said smoothly, like that somehow made it better.

“get the fuck out,” rafe growled, his voice low and dangerous. the venom in his tone made even sofía hesitate for a split second before she gave a mocking smile and sauntered out of the room, hips swaying like she’d won.

silence hung between you like a blade, sharp and ready to sever whatever fragile thread was left.

“you’re unbelievable,” you finally said, your voice trembling, barely containing the torrent of emotions surging within. “she’s been throwing herself at you for weeks and you just… what? let her?”

“no!” rafe took a step toward you, his face a mess of desperation and guilt, but you recoiled, and it hit him like a slap. “baby, i swear to god, i didn’t—i wouldn’t. she kissed me, i didn’t even—”

“but you didn’t stop her.”

he froze, his jaw tightening as your words landed. “what?”

“you didn’t fucking stop her, rafe.” your voice cracked, the dam breaking as tears spilled over despite your best effort to keep them at bay. “how am i supposed to believe you when you just stood there?”

“baby, please.” his voice broke, raw and pleading. he reached for you again, his hands trembling now, but you stepped back, shaking your head. the distance between you felt insurmountable.

“i trusted you,” you whispered, the words bitter on your tongue. “i fucking trusted you.”

“and you still can,” he insisted, his voice rising with desperation, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “you’re it for me. you’re the only one, i swear. she’s nothing, okay? she’s fucking nothing.”

“but i’m supposed to just ignore what i saw?” your voice rose too, the pain clawing its way out of your chest, demanding to be heard. “how many times do i have to wonder if i’m enough for you, rafe? if you even fucking want me?”

“you are,” he said fiercely, the raw intensity of his words cutting through the tension. he stepped closer, slow and deliberate, until you were backed against the wall. his hand cupped your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. “you’re everything. i need you to believe me.”

you shook your head, fresh tears spilling over, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. “i don’t know if i can.”

his hand dropped, his expression crumpling as the weight of your words crushed him. “don’t say that,” he begged, his voice barely above a whisper. “don’t fucking say that.”

“then prove it,” you said, your voice trembling but firm, the storm inside you raging. “prove to me that i’m not wasting my time loving you.”

his eyes searched yours, frantic, his chest rising and falling as he tried to find the words. and for the first time, you saw it. fear. raw, unfiltered fear. because he knew. he knew he was on the verge of losing you, and for once in his life, rafe cameron didn’t have a plan to fix it.

and the worst part? you weren’t sure you wanted him to.

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @rafesbabygirlx

[chleem]

request idea? thinking about how Drew would drop everything for his girl ❤️‍🔥 like if she showed up at his house crying because she needs him (something with her parents or something? maybe they forgot something important to her)

and Drew is with his roommates or friends (who love the reader) but as soon as he sees his girl sad, he has a soft spot for her and for taking care of her 🫶🏼

⋆.˚ Warnings: none, pure fluff (still, read at own caution

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: enjoy! sry i haven't replied for so long, i was spending cny w/my family.

word count: 2.2k

──── 𝜗𝜚 ─────

The sound of the basketball game is practically vibrating through the walls—close to the end, with the score tied and everyone on edge. 

Drew’s lounging on the couch, leaning back, eyes glued to the screen. 

The room is full of his friends, all hyped up, throwing out their commentary and joking around. It’s guys’ night, and it’s a vibe they’re all soaking in.

Then the doorbell rings for the second time tonight, and Drew’s eyes flicker to the door.

"Did we order pizza? Again?" Drew asks. 

“Dunno, man, check,” his friend says, not looking up from the game, clearly too invested. 

Drew sighs, a little annoyed at the interruption, but his feet move automatically toward the door.

When Drew opens the door, he doesn’t see pizza. 

He sees you.

His expression shifts instantly—his confusion giving way to something deeper. 

Drew notices the smudge of mascara under your eyes first—the dark lines trailing down your cheeks. The rest of your makeup isn’t much better: foundation starting to fade where the tears have blurred it, the eyeliner long gone from where it used to frame your eyes.

His heart skips a beat. The noise from the game and his friends’ laughter suddenly feel miles away, as if the room has gone quiet in an instant.

Then, through your teary eyes and blushed cheeks, you give him a smile. It’s weak, almost forced, but you try. You shrug your shoulders, like you're attempting to downplay whatever’s hurting you.

“Hey, Joseph,” you say, your voice cracking just enough that Drew hears it. Your smile fades, and the act you’re trying to put on crumbles just a little.

Drew’s heart sinks. He knows you too well. The moment you said his name like that—broken and vulnerable—he realizes just how much you’re holding back.

Without a word, Drew steps closer.

The easy-going grin he had on earlier is gone. His brows furrowed with concern as he reaches for you, hands cupping your cheeks. 

He holds you gently, but firmly—like he's grounding you, keeping you steady.

His gaze softens, and he watches, helpless for a second, as the first tear escapes and trails down your cheek. His heart aches seeing you like this.

His eyes never leave yours, and there’s an unspoken promise in them—I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.

When you speak again, the apology slips out almost before you can stop it. “I’m sorry…” you start, feeling bad for interrupting his night with his friends.

“Don’t. Don’t apologize.” He says, as if he’s trying to erase that sense of guilt before it can settle in. 

He gives you a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head, “don’t ever apologize for needing me.”

He takes a moment, watching your eyes carefully, making sure you understand that he means it. There’s no disappointment in his gaze—only warmth, care, and an overwhelming need to protect you from whatever’s hurting.

Your eyes flicker away, sparkling with unshed tears as you struggle to catch your breath, trying to muffle the cries threatening to break free.

“It’s just- it’s just my parents-“

Your words falter as his friends cheer loudly in the background, their excitement rising with each point scored in the game. 

Drew notices immediately—your discomfort, the way you're struggling to open up in this moment—and it hits him: you’re still standing out in the hallway, exposed to everything.

“Let’s, let’s get inside,” he murmurs. He doesn’t need to say more than that—his hands move to your shoulders, guiding you toward his room, tell you everything.

His friends, too absorbed in the game, don’t notice the subtle shift in the air. They’re still yelling at the screen, completely oblivious to the fact that his girlfriend has showed up crying. 

As he leads you down the hall, you finally feel the air change—calmer, quieter. 

The second the door of Drew’s room closes behind you, the outside world fades.

Unknowingly, you’ve sat down at the edge of his bed, the soft mattress dipping under your weight. 

Drew quietly moves around his room, as he finds a box of tissues on his dresser. He doesn’t take his eyes off you, though—watching the way you sit, the way your shoulders shake with each breath, how your chest rises and falls, unevenly.

Once he hands it to you, Drew settles beside you. His arm slides around your shoulders, pulling you closer but not forcing you.

He listens carefully to the soft hiccups that escape from you, tiny gasps caught in the air. 

He just continues to rub gentle circles on your back, his touch light and comforting. 

Finally, Drew speaks, but it is barely above a whisper, “what’s wrong?”

You grab a tissue, dabbing your cheeks where the mascara has ran down. 

When you see the dark spots on the tissue, your chest tightens. The tears come faster now, and you let out a shaky breath between sobs, “now my makeup’s ruined!” 

Drew can’t help but chuckle lightly at your reaction, the sound soft and gentle. His hand, still resting around your shoulders, takes the tissue from your trembling fingers.

With a small, reassuring smile, he dabs at your cheeks, wiping away the smudged makeup with care. 

“Don’t, don’t worry about that,” he says quietly. 

The tenderness in his words feels like a balm to your frayed nerves, and for a moment, it’s the only thing grounding you.

As you look up at him, your breath catching in your throat, you notice how close he is. 

His face is inches from yours, and his eyes hold nothing but softness, nothing but a promise of comfort. His hand lingers at your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“I…i had dinner with my parents,” you start. 

“I know,” he murmurs softly, his gaze never leaving yours. He'd seen the date marked on his calendar weeks ago, the reminder of your private dinner with your parents, and he had known it might be a tough night for you.

It was a dinner just for you and them—an attempt to reconnect, to have a moment where things might feel normal again. But Drew knew, from the way you’d talked about it in passing, that it wasn’t going to be easy.

“They still think, I made a huge mistake,” your voice cracks once again, and you swallow hard, as if trying to force the pain down, but it’s no use. It bubbles up too quickly.

Drew knows exactly what you mean. He remembers you telling him about dropping out in the middle of your final year. How it had been a decision made for yourself, even if your parents couldn’t understand it.

Drew watches you quietly for a moment, then speaks softly, “You did what was right for you. If they don’t get it, that’s on them, not you. Who cares what they think?”

He gives you a small, reassuring smile, before adding on, “you should see yourself through my eyes. You’re beautiful, smart, and more than enough as you are. You don't need a...certificate to prove that.”

His words settle over you, and for a moment, you feel your heart soften at the quiet sincerity in his voice. But you quickly look away, feeling a bit shy under his gaze. 

“Yeah, well…” you mutter, “we got into this huge fight, and I just stormed out- and look where I am. Ruining your - your guys’ night.”

“No, no,” Drew immediately interrupts, “you’re not ruining anything.”

Then, unexpectedly, without missing a beat, Drew throws the tissue in his hand toward the trash can in the far corner, and you watch, distracted by the sudden movement. 

You can’t help but let out a small chuckle when he makes a perfect shot, the tissue landing neatly inside with a satisfying swish.

Drew turns toward you, his smile both confused and amused, clearly unsure of what exactly made you laugh but happy to see you smile. “What?” he asks, his voice still holding that easy charm.

You stare at him for a moment, your eyes catching on his lips, the way they curve just slightly in that grin, and for a fleeting second, the urge to kiss him overwhelms you. 

It’s like everything else in the room fades away, and it’s just the two of you in this small, quiet moment.

Your breath catches in your chest, and before you can even think, the space between you seems to vanish.

Without a word, you lean in, your eyes fluttering shut, letting instinct take over. His hand gently cups your cheek, warm against your skin, as he tilts your head just slightly.

And then, you feel it—his lips against yours, and everything feels…right.

The kiss is calming, full of quiet affection—comforting in a way that eases all the tension, like a safe place where nothing else matters.

You could taste your own tears, salty on your lips, but somehow they only make the moment feel more real—more human. There’s something about the way Drew holds you, his lips soft and patient, as if he's absorbing all your hurt without needing to speak.

You pull away just briefly, catching your breath, but before you can even fully regain yourself, Drew leans in again, this time with urgency, as if he needs this kiss more than you.

His lips press against yours, deeper this time, gentle but insistent. His hand moves to your back, pulling you closer as if he’s anchoring himself to you, or to this moment.

You smile against his lips, hands wrapping around his neck. 

You want to push him against his bed, take him right there, show him how appreciative you are of him, but seems like, the rest of the world wants him too.  

The sound of his friends cheering from outside breaks through the moment, reminding you that Drew has guests over, and this isn't just your time with him.

You pull away, resting your forehead against his, closing your eyes for just a moment to catch your breath. 

When you reopen your eyes, you find Drew’s gaze already on you—soft, steady, and full of something unspoken. There’s a quiet intensity in the way he looks at you, like he’s taking in every detail, as if he’s memorizing this moment, just as you are.

“You have- you have people, in the other room,” to your own surprise, you’re stuttering. You pull your head away slightly, finding the fun in tracing the line of his jaw. 

“I wanna stay here,” he murmurs, his voice thick with something you can’t quite place, but you feel it in your chest, a quiet certainty. 

He doesn’t break his stare, and in that moment, it’s like he’s asking you to stay with him too—not just in this room, but in everything he’s feeling, everything you’re both sharing.

“Ask them to leave,” you whisper back, a small smile tugging at your lips, though the words are more playful than serious.

You both know it’s not that simple. 

“Join me,” he says, referring to his guys' night, to his friends in the living room. 

“Well, at least let me... change, and redo my makeup.”

“I don’t know…” he lets his words trail off, his eyes scanning your features with mischief lurking in them, “they might like- like having a panda around.”

You roll your eyes, but the corners of your mouth twitch, unable to hide the small smile. You hear Drew’s throaty laugh escape his lips, a sound that makes your heart skip.

“Alright, just… take your time,” he says, his playful tone softening as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering just a moment longer than expected, like he wants to make sure you feel it.

You watch him, your chest warming at the gesture, as he moves across the room to his dresser. 

He pulls it open, rummaging through his clothes, and then, almost casually, he grabs the hoodie you recognize to be 'yours'. It’s his, but with how often you wear it, it’s practically yours now. 

Then, in one smooth motion, he opens the top drawer and takes out your shorts, underwear, and bra. He places them beside you, not even needing to say anything—just a small, thoughtful gesture that tells you he knows exactly what you need, even before you ask for it.

You look up at him, surprised by the simplicity of it, but somehow it feels even more intimate than words could say. It’s the way he just gets you, without needing to make a big deal of it.

And because it felt right, you whisper, “I love you.”

Drew’s gaze softens, the teasing smile melting away into something more sincere. His eyes hold yours as he says, “I love you more,” his voice quiet but filled with warmth. 

There’s no playfulness now—just honesty, raw and real.

“…now get out of here,” you tease, the corners of your lips lifting into a smirk.

He leans forward, his finger lightly tapping your forehead in a playful push, “so eager to get rid of me?”

“Yes,” you whisper back, and he smiles, shaking his head. 

With one last glance, he turns and walks to the door.

And once the door closes behind him, you’re left with a warm feeling in your chest—safe, loved, and entirely at peace.

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

happy cny! angpao for everyone <3

i apologize in advance if this isn't good and has mistakes- i wrote it in a rush! (also, i realized there was a sudden pov switch- tf

other

[utopiastri]

Put That Guy in a SituationTM - look something about Landoscar in a 20/32 type situation has me hooked….trying to not let others on to their predicament, maybe it’s a bit embarrassing how it happened 🤔

hi anon!!! thank you for the prompt! i went a smidge away from my usual cutesy fluff for this one - your suggestion of embarrassment really sparked something in my brain, even if i took it in a slightly different direction. i hope you enjoy!!!

(prompt list here)

“Look, we just gotta act natural,” Lando says.

Or, well, Lando-as-Oscar says, because it sounds like Oscar’s voice and it’s Oscar’s mouth that’s moving, but it’s Lando that’s actually saying the words and–

Lando-in-Oscar’s-body huffs. “You’re having a crisis again aren’t you?”

“You know it’s weirder of you to be 100% ok with this.”

“It’s a body swap curse, mate, it’s not rocket science.”

Oscar runs a hand through his hair and cringes at the uncanny feeling of there being someone else’s hair on top of his head. “I understand the concept, Lando, what I’m struggling with is everything else related to it like, I don't know, how the fuck this happened."

“I don’t know. Do you reckon we need to have sex to break the curse?”

“What?” Oscar squawks, “Why would we need to have sex to break the curse?”

Lando flushes. “I dunno. Just felt like the right solution.”

“Based on what?”

Lando mumbles something about seeing it online once and Oscar chooses to ask no more follow-up questions lest Lando tells him he learnt about it from some random porn he watched once. He heaves a sigh.

“Listen, like you said, we should just act normal. This whole thing is,” Oscar pauses to search for the right word, “Strange. And I’d really rather not bring anyone else into it to begin with.”

“Agreed,” Lando says before adding, “Hey, if we’re still like this for the race tomorrow and I win but in your body, does that mean you get the points?” Oscar glares at him and Lando pouts. “It’s a genuine question!” he whines.

Oscar’s about to point out they have bigger things to focus on than the effects of this on a race when Jon sticks his head into the room.

“Debrief in five, guys.”

“Sounds good, mate,” Lando says, in an accent no human being has ever used before.

Jon blinks at him. He turns to look at Oscar. Or, rather, he turns to look at Oscar who he thinks is Lando. Oscar smiles weakly.

“He’s, uh, trying to do an impression of me doing an Australian impression," Oscar lies, hoping it sounds vaguely believable.

“Oi!” Lando says, “My Australian accent’s mint.”

“Yes, Oscar,” Oscar says pointedly, “Your Australian accent would be mint because you are from Australia.”

Lando's eyes light up in realisation and he starts nodding furiously. “Right, yep, what he said, exactly.”

Jon blinks at both of them this time. He sighs.

“If you two are doing roleplay, I don’t want to hear about it.” Lando and Oscar both start spluttering, but Jon keeps on talking over both of them. “Just be on time for debrief.”

With Jon gone, Oscar breathes a sigh of relief. Or he starts to, until Lando pipes up.

“I still reckon us having sex will fix it.”

Oscar reminds himself that if he kills Lando right now, he’s possibly going to do irreparable damage to his own body.

The thought’s still tempting.

“Is there a particular reason you’re so desperate to have sex with yourself?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

Lando clearly wasn't expecting that question because he freezes. Oscar’s always hated how easily he flushes but right now, watching it brutally incriminate Lando, he can’t help but be grateful for it.

“I’m not fucking desperate to have sex with myself.” He doesn't sound like he's lying, but the blush on his face suggests he's not telling the whole truth.

Maybe…

His eyebrows raise. “So you’re only desperate to have sex with me then?”

Lando looks up at Oscar, eyes wide. He swallows.

Got you, Oscar thinks to himself.

[rdng1230]

genuinely need to scream into the void about Burt and Irving for a second.

I am simply never recovering from how pure their love is despite the evil around them. They’re almost childlike in their affections, and yet their foundation is built upon love of scripture and art and fealty to a religion that will never love them back.

so when Burt is literally ripped away and the structure acts like it’s a happy event with cake and corporate nonsense and not a world ending event it BREAKS Irving. Of course he goes to find Burt during the OTC. Of COURSE he wants to die when he realizes he’s never gonna see Burt again. OF COURSE he’s choked up at the idea of going back to O&D and of COURSE all he ends up wanting to do is to hear about Burt from the woman who knew him more than anyone. Irving has such a big heart and with the image of Lumon and Kier demolished in his mind, that unending devotion has nowhere to go but to the man he loved and lost.

just holy FUCK man. Burt and Irving. I’ll never recover.

[xoxostiles]

Bellamy Blake — The Protector

🎀 - 🎀 - 🎀 - 🎀 - 🎀 - 🎀 - 🎀 - 🎀 - 🎀 - 🎀 - 🎀

Bellamy Blake doesn’t just protect with words or empty promises—he protects with action, with instinct, with everything he has. It’s in his blood to keep the people he loves safe, but with you? It’s different. It’s deeper. Because losing you once nearly destroyed him, and he refuses to let it happen again.

1. Physical Protection – He’s Always Between You and Danger

Bellamy doesn’t just stand by when there’s a threat—he moves. Always putting himself between you and danger, always the first to react. If a fight breaks out, his body is already shielding yours. If there’s a gunshot, his first instinct is to push you down and cover you.

It’s automatic. Instinctual.

• If the Grounders attack, he’s in front of you.

• If you’re injured, he’s carrying you.

• If someone threatens you, he’s ready to put a knife to their throat.

He doesn’t care who it is—enemy, ally, even a member of his own camp—if they make you feel unsafe, he’s making it very clear that won’t fly.

“Say that again,” his voice drops, dark and dangerous, stepping closer to whoever dared disrespect you. “See what happens.”

Bellamy isn’t reckless—he knows when to pick his battles—but when it comes to you, there is no battle too small.

2. The Subtle, Everyday Protection – He Watches Everything

Bellamy’s protectiveness isn’t always loud. It’s in the little things:

• He watches you. Constantly, even when you think he isn’t. He notices the way your hands shake when you’re exhausted, how you wince when you’re injured but try to hide it, how you shrink into yourself when you’re overwhelmed.

• He keeps you close. Whether it’s walking beside you instead of in front, keeping a hand on your lower back, or making sure you sleep next to him at camp—Bellamy is always within reach.

• He makes sure you eat. He’ll push extra rations your way, hand you a piece of fruit without a word, or glare until you take a bite. “I don’t care if you’re not hungry,” he mutters. “Eat.”

• He makes sure you rest. If you’re running yourself into the ground, he’ll step in—dragging you away from whatever you’re doing, sitting you down, and pressing a water bottle into your hands. “Five minutes. Just breathe.”

3. The Way He Fights for You – Even Against Yourself

Sometimes, the biggest threat isn’t the world—it’s you. Bellamy knows that better than anyone.

If you’re spiraling, if you start blaming yourself for things out of your control, he won’t let it slide. He won’t let you carry the weight alone.

“You’re not doing this.” His voice is sharp, but his hands are gentle as they frame your face, forcing you to look at him. “You don’t get to act like you’re alone in this. You have me.”

He means it.

He sees you, even when you’re trying to hide. He knows your tells—the way your shoulders tense when you’re overwhelmed, the way your breath hitches when you’re about to break. And before you can push him away, he’s already pulling you in.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, arms wrapping around you, strong and steady. “I got you.”

Because no matter what happens, no matter what battles you face—you will never fight alone again.

4. The Jealous, Overprotective Side – “She’s With Me.”

Bellamy isn’t the kind of guy who gets jealous easily—but when he does? You know it.

He doesn’t need to say much. Sometimes, it’s just the way he stands a little closer when someone flirts with you, how his hand finds your waist, fingers pressing just enough to remind you he’s there. Other times? It’s not so subtle.

• If someone won’t take a hint, Bellamy steps in, gaze dark and unforgiving. “She’s with me.” His voice is low, a warning, a promise.

• If someone so much as touches you the wrong way, he’s throwing punches. No hesitation. No remorse.

• And later, when it’s just the two of you, he’ll grip your chin, tilting your face to his. “You don’t let them talk to you like that, you hear me?” His thumb brushes your cheek, voice softer now. “You’re mine.”

It’s not about possession—it’s about protection. About making sure you never doubt just how much you mean to him.

5. The Ultimate Promise – “I Won’t Lose You Again.”

Bellamy has lost too much. His mother. His childhood. He lost you once, and he swore he’d never let it happen again.

That promise isn’t just words—it’s in everything he does.

• It’s in the way he pulls you against him at night, like if he lets go, you’ll disappear.

• It’s in the way his lips brush your forehead, lingering as if to remind himself you’re real.

• It’s in the way he fights for you, every single day.

And if you ever doubt it, if you ever think for even a second that he wouldn’t burn the world down for you—he’ll prove you wrong. Every time.

🎀 - 🎀 - 🎀 - 🎀 - 🎀 - 🎀 - 🎀 - 🎀 - 🎀 - 🎀 - 🎀

xoxo Alexa <3.

[wickedsniffles]

another night that i can't sleep

Summary: L/ogan is driving W/ade insane with his allergies, and being a bit of a stubborn brat about it. W/ade decides to fess up.

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: L/ogan Howlett aka W/olverine x W/ade Wilson aka D/eadpool

Tags: snz of course, kink!Wade, kink confession, smut, L/ogan being a grouchy brat, holdbacks/stuck sneezes, anal sex, top Wade/bottom Logan, fluff, spray

Word Count: 3.8k

There are fewer things more elusive than a Wolverine who doesn’t want to be disturbed. 

A lesson Wade’s learned many times as they’ve cohabitated, and come to respect as they’ve become partners. Logan just needs his space sometimes. He’s not asking for it to try and get away from Wade specifically – okay, maybe he is sometimes, but everyone needs a break from one another now and then. It’s more like he just wants to be alone to think. Be somewhere quiet. 

Wade’s fine with that. They both need time to chill out as individuals, a couple hours or a whole day. Logan does his drive-out-to-the-woods thing and Wade keeps himself busy with something sensory seeking that would normally drive Logan up the fucking wall. 

And they get by with this little routine, this mutual understanding. When they’re together again, it pops any balloon of tension that might have formed. Logan’s always happy to see him, and Wade’s clingy enough that he’s going to melt for affection as soon as he gets it. He’d say this happens about once a month since they started living together, since that boundary was first set. 

Like he said, fine by him. But the past few days haven’t fallen into the rhythm of that agreement. 

Logan’s been in a less-than-cheerful mood, and Wade can guess why. Spring is staking its claim on the city, and though they’re both glad for that first warm breeze after the grasp of winter, Logan’s struggling hard. Or his nose is, anyway. Having super senses isn’t all fun and games, as Wade’s been discovering. As much as Logan might try to hide it, almost everything seems to affect his sensitive nose. 

Before the pollenpocalypse hit, the main thing Wade noticed that set him off was dust. He’s guilty of putting dusting off for ages, because fuck is it tedious. But Wade definitely makes more of an effort to keep things dusted after seeing how itchy it gets Logan, trying to stifle irritated fits of sneezes whenever any amount of it gets stirred up. 

Does that go directly against how fucking hot Wade finds the whole thing? Well, yes. But if he can do something to make things a little easier on Logan, he’s willing to try it. He’s not a sadist. (At least not all the time.) 

Wade hasn’t exactly let Logan in on this kink just yet. Why not? Well. How would you feel if you told the hottest man you’d ever seen that you were into something kinda bizarre and he said “wow, Wade, what the fuck?” and hit the road right then and there? He’s waiting until he’s a hundred percent certain that Logan won’t laugh him out of his own apartment before spilling that kind of tea. 

It doesn’t help that Logan’s been outright torturing him this early spring. First of all, he almost always acts like he’s not affected by it. Nothing gets to the Wolverine, right? Instead, he just goes about his day, sniffling and blinking back allergic tears. Temper shortened by about half. Pausing throughout the day to squint and gasp before muffling sneezes into his shirtsleeve or handkerchief or tissue. 

Stupid 19th century etiquette. How dare he be so fucking polite. 

If Wade pauses to bless him, or suggest that he maybe take a nap or drink some tea or something, he just gets growled at. Because Logan’s fine and it’s just the weather changing and I don’t need you to fuss over me, Wade. Leave me alone. 

Touchy! 

Fine, whatever. If this is what he needs to keep his ego intact, Wade’ll do his best to pretend he’s not jerking it in the shower every other day. 

But he only lasts half a week before he wakes up in the middle of the night to an empty bed. Now that’s a red alarm; as grouchy as he might have been recently, Logan’s soft in that he loves physical touch. Hold his hand, be his big spoon, pet his hair. Whenever they’re apart, he confesses that it’s hard for him to fall asleep without Wade holding him. He’s never seen Logan actively try to avoid it. 

Wade walks out to the living room to find the lamp on, creating a dim circle of light around his missing partner. His partner who is curled up loosely on the couch, looking miserable. Dark circles under his eyes and his nose scrubbed red. There’s no way to know how long he’s been out here, but something tells Wade that his allergies have kept him up for quite a while. 

“Hey,” Wade says, moving to sit down beside him. 

“Hey.” 

He bumps his shoulder against Logan’s gently. 

“Why you sittin’ out here?” 

“Well, I –” Logan looks down. Frowns at the floor. “I didn't wanna bother you. I guess. Thought I might keep you up.” 

Wade melts. Why didn’t he just say that? Not like he’s been dying to take care of him or anything, stubborn ass. Not like being with him is a gift and a treasure. 

“Aw, baby, c’mere,” he says softly, reaching out. “You're not bothering me. You don't ever bother me.” 

Hesitating only for a moment, Logan sighs and leans forward into his arms. He knows he's been a bit distant, acted annoyed and snapped when it wasn’t even Wade’s fault. He’s been stupid. It's nice to just curl up into Wade and not have to put unnecessary space between them. Nestling his face into the soft material of Wade's shirt, he lets himself relax. 

“That's better.” 

He kisses the top of Logan's head, shifting further into the couch so that Logan can cuddle in closer under his arm. Logan doesn't say these kinds of things out loud, but he loves being held. He makes a small, contented sound when Wade starts carding a hand through his hair. 

It feels so good to just lie there together like that for a while. Logan's thumb runs comforting little circles on Wade's arm for a few minutes, then drops to the side. Wade would almost think he'd fallen asleep, if not for the continued sniffling and occasional restless shifting to scrub at his face. 

“Still getting to you, huh?” Wade's voice is full of sympathy, and despite the reaction that this gets out of him, he means it. 

“Not a big deal,” Logan says. “Just a pain in the ass.” 

He curls up tighter into Wade, resting his cheek sleepily on the other man's chest. Like he really just wants to go back to bed but his nose won't let him. 

“Poor Wolverine,” Wade teases lightly, grinning even though Logan can't see him. “Don't think the comic book writers would guess your biggest weakness is just, like, trees and grass.” 

That's Logan's cue to growl and snap and tell him to shut his mouth. He doesn't take it. Instead he's gone strangely still in the cradle of Wade's lap, and Wade realizes what that means as soon as it's happening. 

He only hears the quietest handful of hitched breaths before Logan half-stifles two sneezes into his shoulder, each sounding desperate and irritated. 

“God, bless you,” Wade all but trembles out. He's so hard, holy shit, he can't move an inch or Logan will definitely know there's something not kosher about his beef. 

“Thanks,” comes Logan's reply, still breathy from sneezing. So hot. “And also, fuck you.” 

There it is. His spicy little guard dog. 

Wade pretends to pout. “Hey, who came out here to see if you were okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah. You know I'm just messin’ around.” 

Logan sighs, sniffling thickly and shifting to lie on his stomach to look up at Wade. In doing so, he rubs full force against Wade's very full, very hard cock. They freeze and look at one another. 

For once, Wade has nothing clever to say. 

“Um.” Logan grinds down for emphasis. Wade hisses, arching up on instinct, biting his lip. “The hell is this?”

He tries to look innocent. Innocent is not an easy look on him. 

“My…my penis? My disco stick? My –” 

“I know what it is, smartass,” Logan growls. “I'm asking you why you're this hard just sitting here right now.” 

Of course, he says all that with such an exasperated, sneezy look on his face that Wade's cock has to be leaking in his boxers. There's no way it isn't. 

Wade's never been shy – so he really doesn't need to pick tonight to start, does he? It’s probably time he confessed. 

Fuck it. 

“You're turning me on,” he admits. “The sneezing, it's – it's always kinda done it for me. You're looking at the reigning champion of weird and surprising kinks.” 

Logan takes a second to process this. 

“It – huh. I do. When I –? Oh.” 

He doesn't say that in a negative way, just like he's contemplating it. There's a beat of quiet. 

Wade tests the waters, his anxiety getting the better of him. 

“And… what is your opinion on that?”

Logan gives him a self-conscious half-smile. 

“I mean, not the weirdest thing I've heard of by a mile. And if that's what you're into –” he chuckles, “ – seems like you lucked out with me, huh?” 

!!!!!!!!!!!! 

His brain does a series of excited little skips and hops before registering that Logan's pulling the Bedroom Eyes on him, dark and seductive. A cute, sniffly Logan who's just learned one of his weirder kinks and is cool with it. And who just now happens to be propping himself up for better leverage, leaning pointedly into Wade's cock again. Grinding up and down, waiting for a response. 

“Jesus Christ,” Wade whispers. “Did you know you're fucking perfect?”

Logan smirks. “I wouldn't go that f-far…heh…heh’ESSH!” He ducks down with the force of it, popping back up a little pink in the face. (Wade has to be dreaming, right?) Logan's expression stays stuck in a moment of pre-sneeze bleariness for a handful of seconds until “ – ESSH! huh’ESSH’ew! God.” 

“Bless you, fuck,” Wade blurts out. 

Grinding even harder against Wade's cock, Logan blushes deeper, but says nothing. He reaches up to take Wade gently by the jaw, closing his mouth for him. 

“Do you wanna fuck me, sweetheart?” 

Just a low purr of a question delivered in Logan's sexy voice, and Wade's gasping, squirming, so ready for anything. 

“Please,” Wade begs at once, tears threatening to well up from how badly he wants it. “Please, Logan, I want that. Want you, baby.” 

He grins. 

“You're such a weirdo.” 

Logan leans up to kiss him, the words coming out fond. He takes a second to wrestle out of his sweatpants and underwear. Wade's too stunned stupid to do the same at first. He just lies there still clothed as Logan kisses him, grinding into him hard and dirty. Logan's such a good kisser that it's hard to blame him, all hot, open mouth and little sounds of want. Wet allergic sniffles. 

On every grind, the tip of Logan's cock rubs against Wade's stomach, slipping up under his shirt and leaving a trail of precome behind. It's tantalizing, hot, like they're teenagers doing something they shouldn't. Wade knows he's already making some pathetic sound, knows he could come like this if it goes on too long. A mess. 

“Don't know how you plan to get inside me like that,” Logan pulls away to remark, considerably breathier than before the kissing had started. “C'mon, Red. Lose the pants.” 

Fuck. 

“Right yeah of course I was totally gonna do that –” 

He hooks his thumbs in the waistband of his pajamas and almost dislocates a hip in the hurry to get out of them. Logan's eyes are burning on him for the second they have to break contact, and when they touch again, it's like gasoline on fire. He wants to be fucked about this newly voiced kink. Badly. 

Wade moans into Logan's mouth when their bare cocks rub together, thrilled when Logan answers with a sound of his own. He whines a little when Wade's mouth travels to his neck, granting him full access. Grinding into Wade when he bites down. Like a whore. Like he's been so fucking ready all day, waiting – 

“If you wanted me this bad,” Wade murmurs, fishing for the bottle of lube stuffed between the couch cushions, “why didn't you say something earlier?” 

“‘Cause I'm like this,” Logan answers, gesturing vaguely at his whole face. Eyes a little watery, nose scrubbed red and irritated. “Most people don't really want to fuck someone when they're like this.” 

“Lucky for you that I'm always down to clown,” Wade jokes weakly as he lubes himself up. He doesn't miss the way Logan's eyes follow his every move. “Lift up, baby, move your legs – there we go. Perfect.” 

With a shaky exhale, Logan adjusts until Wade's right up against his opening. 

“You ready for me?”

“So fuckin' ready,” Logan says, low and needy. 

Wade pushes in slow, taking time to savor the way Logan's body takes him perfectly every time. If it were up to Logan, he'd be pressing in harder, rougher. But Wade wants to a.) tease him a little and b.) be gentle with him, at least to start. Logan deserves some gentleness in his life. 

They're tangled up in a mess of limbs. Logan's legs around Wade's back. His arms around Wade's shoulders. They kiss like it's a language each is desperate to tell the other, interspersed with little moans and gasps as Wade gets closer and closer to bottoming out. 

And all the while, Logan sniffs and huffs and tries to ignore the buzzing itch in his nose. All he wants to think about right now is Wade, how good he feels and how he's trying to thrust back. His face is practically buried in Wade's neck when they pull away to breathe, making him all the more aware that he's trapped. But if Wade really likes that sort of thing, then… 

“Is that good, peanut?” Wade asks with his first handful of thrusts, because his answer is oh holy fucking shit this feels amazing and he's hoping they're on the same wavelength. 

He feels Logan nod right away. 

“Fuckin' course it's good,” he answers. “I just – if you don't move, I'm probably–” His breath hitches, interrupting what he's trying to say. “Y’know, I'm gonna – huh –” 

Wade feels Logan's whole body tense, feels that delicious hitched breath in his ear. Disappointingly, he turns as much as he can and stifles four each in rapid succession – but God does he clench around Wade’s cock. 

“Bless you,” Wade says, then mutters cockblock though he knows Logan can hear it. 

He sniffs thickly. “Cockblock? You're inside me, asshole!” 

Too true. Wade picks up the pace again, faster now, and Logan buries his face in the other man's collar with a needy moan. 

“Guess I am,” Wade teases. “And if you want me to stay here, you should probably do what I say. Right?” 

A stubborn look flits over Logan's face, replaced quickly with want as Wade adjusts his angle just right. 

“And what are you gonna tell me to do?”

Ooh, this is just like Christmas. Better than, maybe. 

“I wanna hear you. No stifling or holding back. Got it?” 

Logan rolls his eyes, but he's blushing. Wade's not fooled; he knows Logan likes to be bossed around a little if he's going to be the one bottoming, and hey, Wade is more than happy to give him what he wants. 

“No promises,” he says finally. “You fuckin' brat.” 

Wade gives him a satisfied hum. 

“We'll work with it.”

He kisses Logan on the shell of his ear, pleased to get a little shiver in response, and ups his tempo. Logan clings to him, grasping tight at his tshirt, his little moan sounding relieved as Wade fucks him deep.  

Logan's never one to hold back when they're having sex, dissolving into it, a mess of pleased sounds and open expressions. Nails and teeth. Letting the animal out. So why draw the line now, just because of some pesky sneezes? 

“You needed this, huh?” 

It takes Logan a few seconds to answer, panting hot and open against Wade's ear. 

“Y-Yeah.” 

He's crushing Wade to him, body tense, his cock wedged between them. Every inhale comes with a hitched whine, eager to take everything he's given. Every few seconds he sniffles, harsh, as if that's going to help anything. 

“My poor kitty cat,” Wade simpers. “Tell me how it feels. Tell me how bad you want it.” 

Another long, low sound before Logan can focus enough to find the words. A few breaths. He swallows. 

“It's good,” he says finally. “You always make it f-feel so fuckin' good, and you're really deep inside me and I – hh–” 

Logan fucking rubs his nose against the collar of Wade's old tshirt to try and quell the itch. And yes, Wade does gasp about it. 

“All I wanna think about is what we're doin’ but I cahhn’t–” 

“Can't what?” Wade asks, trying to keep his tone somewhere near neutral. He feels like he's about to pass away. 

“Can't think,” Logan groans. “Itches too bad, all the fuckin’ t–hih-time–” 

God the suspense is too much. Wade can't concentrate on rolling his hips up into Logan with perfect timing and think about whether or not he's about to have all his kink dreams fulfilled. His rhythm falters. 

Can he write it off as a power play? …Maybe. But probably not. 

“What did I just say?” 

Wade's tone treads the line of stern but doesn't quite get there. His voice is too gentle for it, too utterly delighted to hear Logan all tense and caught up the way he is. 

Logan really can't think, poor guy. His body feels tense, breath coming in halted pants, clicking in his throat. 

“Told me not to hold back,” he answers finally. “I'm not doing it on – purpose. I just can't.” 

“Oh, I believe you, kitten.” He forces himself to go completely still inside Logan, prompting a disappointed huff. “You're getting all shy about it now, huh? Performance anxiety?” 

Another growl as Logan thrusts up, trying to get them going again, making Wade's legs twitch. He's a lot less intimidating with all the snuffling and watery eyes. 

“I don't kn–heh–” Logan breaks off in a series of hitching gasps, and Wade bites him lightly on the shoulder, groaning in anticipation. But nothing comes of it, and Logan sighs, just as frustrated. He's cute when he's irritated. “ I don't know. Can you just fuck me? Please?” 

“Sneeze first,” Wade says sweetly. “Or I'm not moving. C'mon, I know you wanna.” 

“What I wanna do is claw you through right now.”

Wade ignores that; they both know it's an empty threat. 

“It'd feel so much better to just let it out,” he muses, teasing Logan with a handful of thrusts. 

Logan arches for it, whimpering. He can't even suck in a full breath without hitching like he's about to sneeze, grappling with it. Wade keeps talking. 

“I can tell when you're trying to hide it, you know. Those cute little stifles you think I don't notice. And it itches so bad, doesn't it? All the pollen and the dust. So sensitive, right? But you don't want anyone to –” 

“Wade,” Logan trembles out. “F-fuck, I'm gonna – hh – hih –! HEHSSH’IEW!”

“There we go,” Wade says eagerly, sliding his cock back up into Logan deep with a groan he doesn’t even bother to contain. “And bless –” 

Logan is not done. The first sneeze was wet, desperate, and loud, spray landing on Wade’s shirt and collarbone. If there’s one thing Wade’s taken away from watching him endure allergic irritation, it’s that he never sneezes just once. 

“Fuck, sorry,” he manages to say before tensing up again. “I – heh’ESSH! ESSH! ESSH-uhh! God, Wade, please please don’t stop –” 

The way Logan melts into a breathless whine as soon as he can stop sneezing to do it makes Wade go fucking crazy. He growls in answer and shifts one of Logan’s legs, fucking him harder, knowing he’s found that sweet spot when Logan keens so high his voice cracks. He reaches down to stroke himself, and Wade gladly lets him. 

“That feel good, baby?”

“Yes, hell yes, I’m so – hh so fucking –” 

Wade’s rarely heard him so undone. His own self-control is in tatters, orgasm building at a rapid pace as Logan comes apart underneath him. He can hear himself panting, ragged, open-mouthed, but can’t bring himself to care. 

“ESSH’iew! ESSH! Heh’ESSH! HEHSSH’IEW! Oh god,” Logan gasps. “Wade, Red, sweetheart you’re gonna make me come –” 

“Then you’d better – do it. C’mon, peanut, give it to me.”

With a broken sound, Logan keeps his promise, sinking his teeth into Wade’s t-shirt and covering it with streaks of his release. Wade’s only a few short thrusts behind, shivering through every pulse and praising Logan for being so fucking good for him. 

(At least, he’s pretty sure he’s praising Logan. His mouth is moving and words are coming out, and Logan’s looking up at him all dazed and sweet.)

For the interested reader, here's the dialogue that Logan would later tell Wade was being babbled out at him: Logan. Oh my god holy fucking shit. Bless you baby bless you times like a thousand I fucking love you. You're so fucking hot. You took me so well, didn't you? Such a good boy. You're the hottest person on the fucking planet. Would it be weird if I kissed your nose right now? Yeah probably I'm not gonna do it, okay, I love you, did I say that already? You're so pretty, fuck, you're so pretty –

Eventually, Logan smiles at him, all soft edges. He reaches up and cups Wade’s face. 

“Wade.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Do you even know what the hell you’re talkin’ about right now?” 

“Uhh.” It’s a little humiliating to admit he can just ramble without having a fucking clue what’s coming out of his mouth. “No. All systems offline. Floating through dead space, captain.”

Logan huffs out a laugh. “Then float back to me, knucklehead.” 

Something in his chest goes all half-baked cookie dough soft. 

“Aye-aye.” 

Wade leans in to kiss him, aware of how fast his heart is still beating. That got intense. And so fucking hot. To be honest? He's already raring to do it again. From the way Logan's nose has been acting up, he's certain they'll get their chance sooner rather than later. 

“Hey, bub?” 

“Yeah?”

Logan swallows, his eyes cutting away. 

“Sorry I've been kind of a prick. Haven't felt the best, but that's no reason to get short with ya.” 

Well, shit. If fucking him senseless through an allergy attack was all it took for Logan to go this soft, Wade would have done it weeks ago. 

“I get it,” Wade says playfully. “You have a whole testosterone-fueled persona to maintain. But you could, you know. Let me take care of you. Help you feel less sniffly and pathetic.” 

“Not tryin’ to maintain anything,” Logan argues. “Just not used to people wanting to – I dunno. Look after me.” 

“Then get used to it,” Wade says. “Cause I don't plan on going anywhere.” 

Logan blushes at that, smiling a little despite an effort not to. Wade kisses him one more time, a soft and purposeful thing, and they shuffle into the shower. Even Logan's sneezes sound sleepy now, and this time when they crawl into bed, he tucks close into Wade's chest and falls asleep in minutes. 

That's more like it, Wade thinks.  

[starmocha]

oh my gosh what if he's got her wrapped around him, calling his name and he's got to hide his face on her neck cause his eyes are watering?? and just to add to the papa!caleb hcs: going those six weeks of no sex after the baby's born to let her heal, waiting out one more until they finally have the time but he's holding back and she's pulling him into the sweetest kisses, whispering in his ear that it's ok, that she can take it, she just misses him. he gives in so easily after that 🙂💕

🫵 this is now possible material for my future 3-part Caleb breeding kink series that I've been yapping about for like three months. /lh no seriously I am going heavy-handed with the breeding/pregnancy kink in this series (ialsorealizeineedtofinishSylus'epilogueforhisseriesbutshhh)

Caleb is the best malewife ever He has done his research, asked the doctor all of the necessary questions, and even after receiving the A-OK, he is still cautious, because your health and safety matters more than sex.

It's only after the baby is put down to sleep that she drags him into the bedroom and pushes him down onto the bed and he is wide-eyed and confused, because just a few minutes earlier, they were having a cute family moment with their newborn, but now the mood has shifted in a completely different direction. On the one hand, he thinks he should be getting excited about this, but on the other hand, no seriously, wtf is happening, the man's head is spinning.

It seems only one person can make the colonel lose his composure and it's his fucking wife. She can see the bewilderment on his face and she relishes in this upper hand moment and takes pleasure out of messing with him.

"Caleb, am I not attractive anymore after having the baby?"

Fuck's sake, he is panicking now, thinking she's being for real, and not noticing that sly smile she is hiding. He reassures her that she is most definitely still attractive in his eyes, and the man is just word vomiting all sorts of praises and accidentally reveals how he sometimes get hard at seeing how much more voluptuous her body is now.

There's an awkward silence after his inadvertent confession before she breaks down laughing at him and he realizes she was messing with him earlier with her wounded act.

"This girl..."

Before he can get too annoyed/mad at her, she is straddling him now, her hands grabbing his face and kissing him all over. She is mumbling about how much she misses him and they shouldn't wait any longer. They already have the ok to resume activities and she promises him that if she gets uncomfortable at any point, she would let him know.

Even though he is still a little hesitant, he could never say no to her, always meeting her at least halfway. When she bites his earlobe, his resolve weakens and his arms are around her, pulling her to him. His lips find hers, his own lazy mumbles slip out in between kisses.

"Promise me—"

"I promise," she interrupts, "Come on, I want your dick now, Caleb."

"Ugh, we need to work on your sexy talk."

"Another day. I need that weapon to destroy my pussy now."

"Jesus fucking Christ."

[northwestcomixcollective]

post epilogue au bill jerry mandi schizoposting delirium whatever hte fuck Context here im quoting comic books and literature no one on tumblrs ever heard of its mostly for archive purposes and the people that care at least a little bit

i sort of picture bills homosexuality as sort of like a thing he would never admit to or act upon and especially with jerry being the only guy who's ever tried to reach out to him and be kind to him to touch him to reach out etc etc being deprived of human touch for 10 years i definitely think they're gay i picture him as a bukowski or crumb bu,t in the way they objectify and degrade women and not the sort of intellectual type and at the same time bwing q repressed homosexual virgin in his late twenties is something i really want to explore

sex isnt everythinf but seeing how important it is for them and how significative and how women are sexual objects and all i think it definitely affects his view on himselg

i think there's this underlying animalistic urge to be close and be together theyve been around eachother since they were kids they really have no one else that's been through what they've been through and even though jerry wants to let go bill is still stuck on it which is why he's so clingy to jerry he's the only thing he has left really the only person that reached out the only guy that somewhat cares i wouldnt be talking about bill clinging on like a koala ofherwise he really does """"love"""" jerry jn the sense he let him stay he touches his shoulder he gave him a change of clothes despite everything that hapoened see gif below

i definitely want there to be a scene of bill breaking down and being liek Jerry....... i like men.......... and just like crying geeking and jerry holding him close and putting his cold nose on his neck and telling him it's all finewhile holding him he caresses him blalallaa whatever for the first time in like 30 something years he feels appreciated loved and held jerry doesnt even know what he's doing holding this piece of shit garbage scum that said the most obscene garbage to his girlfriend who is in the next room ten years ago i think for jerry its also nice to hold him because his parents never really did it which is sort of shown in the pilot where he holds himself when he's excited or nervous as a self soothing method and he feels like hes giving the love he never really received as a child See picture below

in his mind bill really could change. Because he really could change he just needed the right people around him. the resentment he feels towards bill fluctuates he resents him for everything that happened at comic-con he resents him for never treating him well when they were younger he resents him for waltzing into his house drenched in snot rain and tears and taking up space in what was supposed to be a place he could be comfortable and at peace in

billjer i wanted to compare it to ralf könig's "swiss bliss" but bills friends aren't nearly as tolerant of gays as the guys friends who tell him he isnt gay and he's not like that and they dont believe it theyd straigjt up just exile him i think it's more like "maybe ... maybe not" again by ralf könig picture attached below jerry would never make a move first i think bills vulnerable situation and lack of human contact and sort of praise and appreciation he has for jerry for housing him would sort of bring him to do it i think if they ever got to kiss or make out like this styleit would be during a heated argument or while they're drunk they wouldnt be able to stop thems3lves but if it ever escalates i think jerry could easily let bill go and let him slam his head against something and just go into another room and start pacing fucking freaking out see picture below,

if anyone wants to jump me for shipping bill and mandi its3now or never SCREAM ID YOU LOVE BILL AND MANDI

although i asked dorkin and he already told me it isnt true i still want to explore mandi being the same girl that walked into joe's comic book store in "this monster, this fan" because of the character dynamics i could explore and thoughts and interpretations i dont givea fuck im schizoposting about bill blowing jerry im basically doing whatever i wajt with the already existing comic thog dont care i think they both remember the day really clearly but since bill is so so focused on jerry he barely even glances at her because she was basically violated by like. what 15 men in a comic book store including grown men taking a picture of her like thats vile bill doesnt want to think about it he doesn't want to confront her or say anything ever because the humiliation of already being in someone else's house eating their food taking up space is too much

see earlier mention of crumb

the way crumb depicts women as something divine unachievable incomprehensible and as sex objects and puts them in the strangest most violent situations where is definitely something i see bill in especially in the epilogue where he and the rest just start babbling about how the female cosplayers are too ugly fat or arent white and dont fit their standards the way they're always depicted reading smut pornography or just looking at pinups of women (sometimes in violent situations as well) and the interaction he had at joe's all formed and turned his mindset into something utterly vile negative and disgustifn

see previous mention of bukowski

in this book the narrator is always pointing out faults in women i definitely see him as bill in the sense of being so negative hateful and even when in love he still manages to criticize his potential lover it could be bill and mandi but their relationship is much more complex to me since neither of them actually love eqchpther they just carnally need one another the way he's just really pathetic drunk and all just reminds me of bill as well mandi hates bill for being a man she's attracted to him because he's so fucking pathetic and gross it's exciting bill is attracted to mandi because she's a woman he detests her for being a stupid cunt who speaks her mind and is independent theyre both secretly having an affair one is slightly homoerotic the other one is just straight up abusive bill doesnt like to talk to anyone in the house he's extremely embarrassed and ashamed not only because he's in his friends house living there with his girlfriend who he hates but because he had the balls to reach out for help especially from a guy who beat the shit out of him last time they ever saw eachother mandi tries to talk it out but bill is so unbelievably childish he doesn't speak to anyone or do anything he's just silent i love them because they beat the shit out of eachofher and bill is a sexist pig and mandi is a woman they're all having an affair with eachother if any of them find out the other one is dating everything will go down genuinely but it wont since they're all too busyv hiding something from the other

i definitely think he would crash out on her but in the most like. formal way possible because he doesnt want to get kicked out and its shown he sort of knows when it's appropriate to shut up unlike josh who just starts geeking

+ jerry & mandi sketch im not finishing to get a glimpse into what i picture them both to be. healthy happy and everything good