#sorry i'm making this dark ish really it's a happy thing

[bloggingboutburgers]

Congratulations on getting married! I hope it’s just as you want it to be 💜

Thank youuuu TwT I just wanna specify a few things though, just to be fair

As I've said before, although things look promising so far and we'll do anything we can to make sure it stays promising, we still don't know for sure IF we can get married. That'll depend on the US government's final approval and we'll have more steps to go through.

As excited as we are for it, we're mostly getting married by necessity to be able to stay physically together. Personally, until my partner entered the picture, I never thought I'd ever get married, and as much as I thought "yeah it wouldn't be bad if it was with them actually" from the very first time I was with them IRL, I never thought about it very seriously until the travel ban the US placed on countries including France from early 2020 to late 2021. Now it feels like the best way to make sure that when something like that happens again, I have more chances to be able to see both my partner and my family within that time. But if getting married wasn't the only surefire way to achieve all this, then maybe I would've gone for something different? Idk. I'm still very scared I might be ruining our lives, especially theirs, by marrying them and placing myself as a burden on them. It wouldn't be an easy marriage. It's not "for tax benefits" because it wouldn't save us money. It'd be very expensive at first.

With all that said... My partner DID always plan to get married and is a lot more excited and proactive on the festive part of this that I am, and I'm grateful seeing them happy, so... Thank you^^

[sceletaflores]

it’s the easiest thing (just love me and eat me)

pair: logan howlett x mutant!fem!reader

wc: 6.1k

anon says: nat pls speak on sub!logan...people are hating on the sub!logan agenda and someone needs to show them that they're wrong and it can be done cuz if anyone can convince them it's you mommy!

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, crimson! again! she's back!, slight angst, swearing, violence, light gore, somewhat dark content, religious symbolism? (idk this one got weird babes), established relationship, lowkey a toxic relationship but you didn't hear that from me, sub!logan-ish, handjob, p in v, slow sex turned rough, unprotected sex, riding, creampie, pain kink, scent kink, blood play, blood...eating (drinking? idk), porn with a tiny bit of plot, no use of y/n.

author’s note: anon i'm so sorry this took me so long...i hope it was worth the wait! it started as a short smutty drabble that somehow turned into…this? idk it got out of hand so fast. i am a proud member of the sub!logan nation but that's mostly because i think that ALL men have the potential for sub vibes like doesn't matter who he is if i want to fuck him he's probably a little subby. special shout out to my baby boo and fellow sub!logan truther @avocado-writing <3 tysm for sharing anon! xoxo mwah.

dividers by icon @saradika-graphics!

psst! want more logan and crimson? here's the to the bone au masterlist!

it’s not often that logan needs this, but you’re always more than happy to give it to him when he does…

The team had a big scare earlier in the day.

It was supposed to be an easy mission, bust a mutant trafficking ring in Albany. You do assignments like these every week, and as sick as it sounds, it’s almost routine.

But this one was different. It was an ambush, and you were compromised.

Only humans, but they were smart. Waited until the team split up to attack. They had tech, things you'd never seen before.

Big guns loaded with tiny darts full of an ominous red liquid.

It was your fault really. You didn't clear your surroundings, so focused on getting to the kids that you let yourself get sloppy.

The tiny sting in your back barely registered, you don't think you would have even noticed if it didn't kick in so fast.

You'd never felt anything like it before in your life.

It didn't hurt. The rush of pain you braced yourself for never coming.

The sensation was strange—like your body was shutting down, piece by piece. You fell to your knees, shaky legs folding under you in less than a second.

You felt empty, wrong. An eerie silence trickling in to fill your insides.

Panic bubbled beneath your skin, but you were too numb to feel it. Trapped in the mounting weight of your limbs, the slow blink of your eyes, the shortness of breath despite hardly moving.

Your hand slipped across the gritty cement, reaching for support that wasn't there.

That was when you saw it, the shock of it was enough for your heart to drop. Your skin, blanched and sallow, the veins in your arms black and spreading like spilled ink.

You tried to fight it, tried to will your body to move, to react, to do something. You had to get up. You had to. The kids.

As hard as you willed yourself, there was nothing. It was like your body wasn't your own, like it had become something completely foreign.

You could barely make out the tiny voices calling for you. Pleading, frantic yelps of your name fading into a dull hum as everything went hazy. The edges of your vision blurring into a narrow tunnel.

He stepped in front of you, the same one who shot you. A cynical grin on his face and collar in his hand. You'd seen collars like it before, used on mutants to muzzle their abilities, to weaken them.

You tried, fingers barely twitching by your. Nothing. Just another shock of that cold, unfamiliar feeling shooting through your body.

“Got a big one, boss.” The man boasted into a comm strapped to his wrist, his voice sharp and grating. He took a single step towards you, smug grin still stretched across his face. “Yeah, real nice lookin' one too. She'll sell for—“

A muddy roar pulsed through the molasses filled haze of your ears, six claws flying through the air to embed themselves on either side of the man's skull with a wet, stomach-churning sound.

The collar dropped from his slackened grip with a dull bang, shattering into different pieces that slid across the floor haphazardly. A mess of wires and metal.

There were rushed footsteps before he dropped to his knees in front of you, his torso bathed in a dull glow from the overhead lights yellow shine.

There was blood splattered across the side of his face, slicking the front of his suit enough to reflect light off the leather.

Logan, perched in front of you like an angel.

Not one with a golden halo and a harp, but a indescribable mess of eyes and wings looming over you calling 'be not afraid'.

You'd never seen him so shaken before. All wide-eyed and pale as he checked you over for any major injuries. His breath coming in short bursts, hands frantic and shaky as they skated along your body for the viscosity of blood or uneven shift of a break.

He refused to let you even try and walk on your own, swept you off the floor and cradled your trembling body to his chest as he called for help. The beat of his heart was fast beneath your cheek, strong enough that you could feel it even through the thick leather of his suit.

You buried your face deeper in the crook of his neck, the pit in your stomach barely warmed by the feel of him. His scent is strongest there, so much so that in a room full of spilled blood, you could only smell him.

He was careless stepping over clawed up bodies littering the floor like a messy maze of twitching limbs and entrails. You didn't even know there was more than one guard in the room.

The evidence of his love for you, of his devotion, oozing red on the concrete.

Logan didn't even give the carnage a sideways glance as he raced you outside, back to the jet.

Trusting Scott and Jean to take over getting the kids out. The unsteady murmurs he pressed to the top of your head the last thing you heard before there was nothing.

You woke up six hours later.

The sterile hum of medical equipment was the first thing you heard. The sharp scent of antiseptic filled your nostrils, and the faint pressure of a needle in your arm confirmed that you were hooked up to an IV. 

Your muscles felt heavy, like someone had filled them with lead. But you were alive.

You could feel your body working overtime, fixing itself. The sickening shift of your insides falling back into place. 

It took a few more moments for you to realize you weren’t alone.

A low, familiar rumble caught your attention. You turned your head to see Logan slumped in a chair by the bedside, his face buried in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. His hair was mussed, his usually sharp features softened by exhaustion. 

He looked different, smaller, as though the weight of what happened was pressing down on him, making him fold in on himself.

You’d seen him bloody, beaten, on the verge of death, but you’d never seen him like this–completely and utterly human.

Your throat was too dry to speak, but a small sound escaped you, and Logan's head snapped up. His eyes met yours, and in a heartbeat, he was at your side, his large hands hovering over you, unsure where to touch, like he was afraid you’d shatter under his fingers.

“You’re okay,” he whispered, more to himself than to you. His voice was hoarse, cracked with a mixture of relief and something else, something deeper. His eyes darted over your face, your arms, as if memorizing every detail just to make sure you were real.

“I'm sorry,” you managed, your voice barely more than a rasp.

Logan's eyebrows furrowed, the lines in his forehead deepening. "What the hell are you apologizing for?" His voice was gruff, but there was a tenderness beneath it. A gentleness he only reserved for you.

Your lips cracked into a weak smile. "It was my fault. I messed up."

A growl rumbled low in his chest, and you could feel the anger simmering just beneath his skin, not at you but at the situation, at whoever had dared to hurt you.

“Don’t,” he said, voice like gravel. “Don't start, none of this is on you.” His voice softened slightly as he leaned closer, the warmth of his presence enveloping you. “What matters is you’re here.”

The reassurance wrapped around you like a warm blanket, grounding you.

Logan’s thumb traced the line of your jaw, his touch sending a spark of warmth through your veins. “When I saw you on the floor like that…I thought—” He shook his head, jaw clenched as he forced himself to meet your gaze again. “I thought I lost you.”

Your fingers twitched slightly, managing to catch his wrist, squeezing it with what little strength you had. “I’m right here,” you said softly, voice clearer than before. “I’m okay.”

Logan’s gaze softened again as he looked down at your hand, his rough exterior cracking just a little more. He gently pried your fingers from his wrist and pressed your hand to his chest, right over his heart. “You scared the hell outta me, you know that?”

You tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a breathless huff. “Didn’t mean to.”

He shook his head, but there was a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You never do.”

You were fine an hour later. 

The color of your skin had returned, glossy and like new. The hollow emptiness inside of you long gone. Your abilities passed every test Charles threw your way with flying colors.

Fully recovered and finally excused from the med-bay after Hank and Jean checked you over one last time, you were given your strict marching orders in the form of extra fluids and bed rest, no matter how much you argued that you were fine.

Your health was the last thing on your mind, just a distant phantom ache each time your eyes would find Logan.

He was still shaken up, even after all the reassurance from Charles and Hank. He kept close the rest of the day, hovering, his presence more protective than usual, but he didn’t talk much.

You could see it in the way he moved, slower, less sure, like he was carrying around something too heavy to shake off. It lingered in the tight set of his jaw, the way his hands flexed as though still looking for something to fight, to protect you from.

It wasn’t hard to guess what it was. 

You hated seeing him like this, burdened by a guilt he didn’t deserve. 

It gnawed at you, that heaviness. The way he started to shut down, to close himself off in the face of fear. It was the only way he knew how to cope.

After seeing him like that, bed rest was the last thing on your mind.

You knew Logan. Knew what he needed when his thoughts got tangled up like this, dragging him under. He wasn't the type to sit and talk through it, not easily anyway. 

And even though you know he’d never ask for it himself, you knew what he needed—to be reminded, physically, that you were still here, still his.

Later that night, when the mansion had quieted and the others were tucked away in their rooms, you found him exactly where you thought you’d find him—in the room you shared, sitting on the edge of the bed. The yellow light from the bedside lamp cast soft shadows across his face, the tension in his jaw still there.

A frown tugged the corners of your mouth as you moved towards him, catching his attention with the rustle of the sheets as you sat next to him.

“Logan,” you say softly, breaking the stillness. He doesn't respond, only the slightest twitch in his shoulders indicating he even heard you. “Hey,” you try again, your voice a little firmer this time.

He turns his head just enough for you to catch the edge of his profile, the crease between his brows, weariness etched into his features.

But he still doesn't speak.

You shift, moving closer until your fingers brush his arm, the heat of his skin radiating through the fabric of his shirt. “Look at me,” you whisper, and finally, his gaze lifts to meet yours, guarded and pained. “I’m fine. I’m right here.”

Logan shakes his head, bringing a hand up to run it through his already messy hair. “You could’ve died,” he bites out, tone rough and low. “We should've never fuckin' split up. I should’ve been there faster, sooner. I should’ve–”

“Logan.” Your voice cut through his, sharper than you meant it to. You catch his hand in yours, thumb brushing against the pulse point of his wrist. “You saved me, I’m not going anywhere. I need you to hear that.”

He meets your gaze then, eyes dark with something vulnerable, something raw. He nods weakly, like he only half-believes it. You can still see the hesitation swirling through his eyes, the reluctance in the stiffness of his muscles against yours.

He needs something more than words, something to bring him back to you.

With that, you move to straddle his lap, your knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his thighs. His body stiffens under yours, his breath hitching slightly as his hands fall to your waist almost instinctively.

“Hold on,” Logan starts, tone hesitant and hands light as they hover over your hips like he’s still scared to touch you. “You heard what Hank said–”

“I’m fine,” you repeat, finality lacing your tone and leaving no room for argument. You reach down, taking his hand in yours and bringing it up to press flat directly over your heart. The very same way he did your first night together. "Can you feel me?”

The question hangs between you, soft but weighted with purpose.

Logan’s breath catches in his throat, fingers splaying wider across your chest. The heat of his palm sinks through to your skin, lighting a fire in you. 

The steady beat of your heart under his touch is an undeniable reminder–alive, strong, with him. You can feel him relax, just a touch.

The tension in his muscles breaking down beneath you piece by piece as the rhythm grounds him, helps to pull him out of his spiral.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, barely audible. His eyes drop to where his hand rests, his thumb absently grazing the space just above your sternum. “I feel you.”

“Then trust it,” you murmur. “Trust me.”

A deep, slow breath escapes him, and something in his eyes softens just enough. You lean closer, your fingers trailing up his arms, over his shoulders, until they thread into the hair at the nape of his neck. 

You smile softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. He sighs deeply, leaning into your touch like a dog starved of attention from its master. His grip on your waist finally tightens, fingers pressing into your skin just enough to feel that edge of need—the need to let go.

“You’ve been taking care of me all day,” you murmur, scratching your nails along his scalp softly. “Now let me take care of you.”

You feel him shudder, a weak groan escaping from his slack lips. His hazy eyes search your face, pupils blown out and seeping into the warm hazel color like an oil spill over a lake.

You tilt your head, lips grazing the stubble on his jawline, moving slowly, deliberately, until you can capture his mouth in a kiss.

It’s soft at first, gentle, but you feel him melt into it, the sharp edge of his restraint crumbling as he kisses you back with a kind of hunger that fuels you.

Logan’s hands slide up your back, fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt as you take control, deepening the kiss, coaxing him further into the moment.

His mouth is warm and wet and urgent against yours, the scrape of his teeth along your bottom lip sends a thrill down your spine. 

His lips move over yours with a reverence that makes your chest tighten, as if each slick glide of your lips together is an apology, a promise, and a plea all rolled into one.

But you don’t want his apologies. You want his surrender.

His breath stutters in his chest when your fingers twist in his hair, tugging just enough to remind him who’s in charge tonight.

When your hand finds his chest, pushing him down gently, he goes without protest. His eyes never leave yours as he settles against the pillows, following your every movement as you crawl closer.

Climbing over him to perch on top of his thighs, you waste no time in reaching for the hem of his shirt, gently tugging on it in a silent question. Logan’s breath comes in shallow puffs as he nods, fingers twitching on your hips. 

You can feel the way his chest rises and falls under the tips of your fingers, the sharp intake of air when your hands ghost across the skin of his lower stomach as you lift his shirt up and over his head.

You toss it over your shoulder carelessly, it lands with a muted thump somewhere behind you, leaving his chest bare. His muscles taut and rippling as he forces himself to stay still, the dim light plays across his skin, highlighting the contours along his torso.

You take a moment to just admire him, trailing your fingers along the familiar planes of his skin. Your touch is feather light, tracing over the spots that should be littered in scars. 

The place in his shoulder where he got shot two weeks back, or where the loose shrapnel that embedded itself in his side on the last mission should be, or the skin where his shoulder meets his neck after you dug your teeth into it hard enough to bleed a few nights ago.

The way his body responds to you makes your pulse quicken—the way he finally relaxes completely under your touch, melting into the mattress. 

You continue your path down, fingers slipping through the ridges of his abs, scratching your nails through the dark hair that disappears into the waistband of his bottoms teasingly. The muscles of his stomach jump under your touch, the power of his need thrumming beneath your touch.

You drag your hand over the hard length of him, his cock thick and hot as it twitches beneath your fingers. There’s a sharp hiss bleeding through grit teeth as his hips twitch up off the mattress ever so slightly.

You lean forward, hiding a small smirk in the crook of his neck. “Logan,” you whisper, voice dripping with intent, “I want you to beg for it.”

A deep, guttural growl rumbles through his chest. It shakes your body like thunder, finding a home between your thighs. Logan’s head falls back against the pillows, exposing the tan column of his throat to your hungry gaze.

It’s almost immediate, your reaction, your bodies reaction. The pulse of your blood starts to simmer with that telltale heat, slowly bubbling beneath your skin in anticipation.

Your gaze traces along where the vein of his jugular presses against his skin enticingly, barely suppressing a full body shiver at the sight.

You slip your index and middle finger beneath his waistband, brushing against his hard cock with barely any pressure. His hips buck up again, seeking more friction, but you pull back slightly, making him chase it.

“I said beg, Logan,” you murmur, your voice low, teasing, a sharp edge to it now. Your free hand comes up, gripping his jaw tightly, forcing him to look at you.

His eyes, dark and blown wide with lust, meet yours, and you can see the war raging inside him—the urge to dominate, to take control—but then he’s giving in to you, surrendering so beautifully.

“Goddamn,” he rasps quietly, his voice rough, broken. It’s barely a word, more of a growl torn from his throat. He bites it out, quiet and foreign sounding coming from his tongue. “Please, I need—”

“Good boy,” you purr, and finally, drag the soaked fabric of his bottoms down. His cock springs free, slapping against his stomach lewdly.

You moan softly, deftly wrapping your fist around him loosely. Logan groans, you swear you can hear his teeth grind together at the first feeling of your touch where he wants it most.

He’s scalding to the touch, velvety skin throbbing in time with his heartbeat. Rock-hard and flushed an angry red, darkening even more the closer you get to the tip.

You keep the pace of your strokes tortuously slow, letting him feel every movement, teasing him. It’s addictive, watching the way he starts to unravel beneath you at the slightest touch.

His legs kick out against the mattress minutely, hands falling from your hips to grip the sheets as hard as he can in a failing attempt to calm himself.

You lean down, slick lips brushing against his as you speak, your voice soft but commanding. “You’re going to let me do whatever I want to you tonight, aren't you?”

Logan nods, his breath coming in quick pants, his sweaty chest rising and falling rapidly. “Yes,” he chokes out, eyes brimming with need. “Fuck, do whatever you want, baby. I’m yours.”

The usual dominance he carries like a second skin has been peeled away, leaving him vulnerable, laid out beneath you, at your mercy.

Your hand speeds up, grip tightening as you twist your wrist over his leaking tip. Your knuckles shine with pre-come, slick from the gratuitous amount of wetness steadily drooling out.

“You’re being so good for me, Logan,” you whisper, your voice soft and laced with praise. “So good, letting me take care of you like this.”

His response is a loud moan, his hips arching up off the bed, but you’re quick to press them down with your free arm, your thighs tightening around him.

“Not yet,” you warn, strength on display as you stop his movements. “You’ll come when I say.”

A strangled sound escapes him, somewhere between a growl and a whimper, and it sends a thrill through you. He’s right there, teetering on the edge, but he’s holding on—for you.

“Poor thing,” you mumble, idly pressing your thumb into his slit, gathering the precome there to spread it along the flushed crown. “So hard, so needy for me.”

“Jesus, fuck,” Logan whines, his head tipping back against the pillows a second times, eyes squeezing shut tighten enough to wrinkle the skin around them.

You smile, your nails digging into his chest as you shift, positioning yourself above him. The heat between your legs is unbearable now, slick all along your inner thighs as it pools from your aching cunt, drenching the soft cotton of your panties.

So desperate to be stretched around Logan’s cock, to be filled the only way he can. You roll your hips forward, the hard jut of his cock sliding through the sticky mess of your panties.

“Shit, baby,” he groans, loud and hoarse. “Fuck, give it to me, I’m ready–”

You press your finger to his lips, silencing him as you hover over him. “Not yet,” you whisper, a wicked grin on your face as you slide your panties to the side and take him in your hand, letting the tip brush against your soaked entrance, still not giving him what he craves.

Your own patience is starting to run thin, but the sound of his begging is too good.

“Tell me how bad you want it,” you say, your voice sharp and commanding as you rub the tip of him along your cunt, teasing. “Tell me what you need.”

He’s trembling beneath you, a soft whimper leaving his lips as you sink down slightly, barely letting him inside. "Please, darlin'," he groans, voice rough with need. "I need to feel you—need you so fuckin’ bad."

You finally give in, sinking down onto him in one slow, deliberate motion.

His body jerks beneath you, a choked growl spilling from his lips as you take him in, inch by inch. You don’t stop until he’s buried deep inside you, your walls clenching around him as you settle into his lap.

The feeling is overwhelming, the stretch, the heat, the way he fills you completely.

You both groan at the same time, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you roll your hips, savoring the way he pulses inside you, how his entire body reacts to every little movement.

“God, you’re so big,” you whisper, your voice heavy with lust as you look down at where your bodies meet. “You gonna be a good boy and let me ride you?”

“Fuck,” he grits, voice like gravel crunching underfoot.

His hands slide up your back, desperate and needy as they cradle the back of your head softly. “I’d kill them all,” he pants, lips messily searching for your own, desperate for more frantic kisses. “Fuckin’ all of them, all for you.”

You moan loud and unabashed, eyes screwing shut as your nails rake down his chest hard enough to break the skin. The smell of his blood breaks through the air, heady and sharp. He throws his head back, a broken gasp dragged out of him as his hips speed up.

You think back to the room in the warehouse, the floor slick with stray remains and viscera. Think back to him lifting you to his chest, of the blood spattered across his suit and face slipping against your own clammy skin.

Flashes of Logan running to you like a loyal livestock dog, covered in the blood of any wolf that dares attack his precious sheep. Staining the white of your wool red with the righteous wrath of his sacrifice. 

You roll your hips faster, bouncing with enough force to have you crying out. The tight suction of your walls pulling him as deep as he can get at this angle.

The coarse hair along his stomach drags against your throbbing clit, making white hot sparks of pleasure zing up your spine to light up each vertebrae. 

Logan presses his forehead to your chest, hot breath puffing out over your sweaty neck. You tilt your head to the side almost subconsciously, bearing more of yourself to him.

“Can’t hold back much longer,” he admits weakly, blunt nails digging into your skin sharp enough to sting. “Feels so good, so fuckin' good."

He trails off, face pinched with ecstasy as he gazes up at you. You smile, rolling your hips slowly, tiny figure eights that let you feel every inch of him pressing against your walls.

“You're not supposed to hold back," you whisper, your voice thick with need as you lean down, kissing along his jawline. "I want you to let go, Logan."

His eyes snap open, the hazel gone wild and desperate, and it’s like you can see the exact moment he breaks. The tiniest shred of self control finally crumbling under the weight of his instincts. With a low, feral growl, he surges up.

You’re on your back quicker than you can blink, stomach surging with it. You hardly have any time to react, Logan punching all the air out of your lungs as he sets a brutal pace.

The sudden intensity has you gasping, your body jolting as he takes over, fucking you like his life depends on it. 

Each thrust is hard and deep, hitting the spot inside of you, over and over again until you’re a trembling mess above him, moaning his name, your nails digging into his chest.

Logan’s grip on you is ironclad, pulling you back onto him harder, faster, his breaths coming out in ragged pants as he loses himself completely in the heat of your body.

"That's it," you pant, feeling the way your body tightens around him, the tension building deep inside you. "Fuck, Logan, just like that—"

He growls again, the sound vibrating through his chest as he slams into you harder, his pace relentless. You can feel the sweat slick between your bodies, hear the wet, filthy sounds of your bodies coming together as his control snaps completely.

“Mine,” he growls between thrusts, voice low and rough as he pounds into you, his eyes locked on yours, full of possessive need. "All fuckin’ mine."

Your body responds to his words, tightening around him as your orgasm builds, every nerve in your body on fire. "Yes," you gasp, your voice barely more than a broken moan as he hits that perfect spot again and again. "Yours—only yours."

Slowly, deliberately, you bring your hand to your mouth, biting down on the pad of your thumb hard enough to draw a thin line of blood.

The scent of iron fills the space between you, mixing with the musk of sex and sweat. Logan’s nostrils flare as he takes in the scent, his pupils dilating further, and you feel his cock twitch inside of you.

You raise your thumb to his mouth, sliding it along his bottom lip to leave behind a thin trail of red. “Suck,” you whisper softly, pressing your thumb into his mouth ever so slightly. 

And he does, without hesitation. 

Logan’s lips part, and he pulls your thumb into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the taste of your blood. The look in his eyes as he does sends a wave of heat crashing through you.

The pure devotion of the act thickening the air around you to coil the spring of pleasure winding in your lower stomach tighter.

You groan, your own restraint folding like a house of cards as you drag your nose down the column of his throat, stopping right at the base. You press a quick kiss over the rapid fluttering of his pulse before you bite down, hard.

Logan keens around your thumb, teeth digging into your skin roughly as his blood floods your mouth. 

You get lost in it, the familiar taste of him seeping onto your tongue as his cock jerks and pulses in your clenching cunt. Getting lost in the way you can feel the rhythm of his heart against your lips, each strong beat sending more blood pumping out to leak along your taste buds.

You press your chest to his, not leaving an inch of space between you. It’s still not enough, it will never be enough.

You need more, so much more.

You want to encompass him completely, to be encompassed by him.

You want to dig your hands into his skin–to peel back each layer of flesh and fat and muscle, snap each of his ribs back so you can bury yourself in the cavity of his chest before you bend them back into place. Burrowing yourself deep enough inside him to watch him heal all around you, to watch his skin stitch itself back together.

It’s a sick feeling, the need to take and take until he has no more left to give. Sick and all consuming, lighting you up like the raging flames of a forest fire that destroys everything in its path. 

When you finally pull your hand away from his mouth, he lets out a breathless moan, and you lean down to press your lips against his in a bruising kiss.

The coppery tang of your blood lingers between you, mixing with Logan’s as your teeth clash together violently, as you devour him, pouring every ounce of your control into the kiss.

You press your palm to his chest, powers surging to life over his heart. You don't need to open your eyes to see what you leave behind, the red and blue pulse of his blood lighting up beneath his skin like the neon sign hanging outside his favorite bar.

Logan moans into your mouth, tongue dragging along the point of your canines. "Don't stop," he pleads, “Please, baby, don’t fuckin’ stop.”

You can feel the energy coursing between you, a tangible thing that's threading itself between your fingers. It’s intoxicating, a connection deeper than flesh, a binding of souls fueled by blood and lust. You lean into the heat radiating from him, urging your energy to flow freely, wrapping it around his heart like a warm embrace.

“Logan,” you whisper breathily, breaking the kiss just enough to look into his wild, pleading eyes. “You feel that? You and me, we’re connected.”

“I feel it, honey,” he groans, bucking his hips, forcing you to take him deeper. “You’re everywhere. It’s all I can think about all the goddamn time, drives me fuckin’ crazy.” His words tumble from his lips, raw and unfiltered, sending another thrill of desire through you.

You whine, head tipping back to the ceiling. Drunk of the feeling of him, of his cock, of his blood on your teeth.

You've come to think that being in bed with Logan is like being in church.

There's a holiness to the way he holds you—like you’re the only thing worth believing in.

The familiar weight of his body pressing you into the mattress is the alter. The heat of him like laying in the burning flame of a candle. The strong planes of his muscles each a different scripture that you take in by touch alone, skating your hands over his skin with something close to worship.

Each bead of sweat on his skin feels sacred, a testament to the intensity between you, as though every part of him has been crafted for this moment of devotion.

The hard length of his cock carves a place for itself inside you, each heavy smack of his hips punching another desperate sound out of your slack lips. 

His breath, deep and ragged, is a chant that pulls you into reverence. It puffs against the wild beat of your pulse, his lips brushing over the fever hot plane of your skin. 

The sound of your name falling from his mouth sounds like a prayer answered.

You can’t help but close your eyes, not in exhaustion, but in a kind of spiritual surrender, like by shutting out the world, you can truly grasp the divinity of it. His blood, mixing with yours on your tongue feels like a sacrament—an unholy communion.

The air between you crackles with heat, your bodies moving together in perfect sync, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. Logan’s head tilts back, his mouth open in a silent scream as he claws at your hips, pulling you down harder, deeper.

“I’m close,” he groans, his voice strained, desperate. “Please—fuck—I need to—”

You reach up quickly, grabbing his jaw and forcing him to look at you. “Look at me when you fuck me,” you demand, your voice sharp, dripping with authority. “I want you to watch me when you come.”

That’s all it takes.

 Logan’s entire body goes taut, a strangled roar tearing from his throat as he buries himself inside you one last time, the force of his release crashing through him. The hot spray of his come floods your insides, drenching your walls in thick spurts of white. 

His hands grip you so tightly you’re sure there’ll be bruises blooming later, but you don’t care. You wish they wouldn’t fade. You want them. You want to wear his mark, to feel the evidence of this moment lingering on your skin long after it’s over.

His hips don’t stop even as he comes, a sharp cry ripping its way from his throat as he keeps fucking you, pumping you full of him like he can’t stop. 

When you feel him start to lose control like that, feel the frantic twitch of his cock inside you, you finally let go, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. The force of it rips a scream from your throat as you clench around him, your body spasming with the intensity of it.

Your abused cunt gushes around his cock to seep into the mattress, soaking both the sheets and his lower body all at once as you let out a weak mutter of his name.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the ragged, uneven breathing between you as you both come down from the high. Logan collapses on the bed, arms circling your waist to drag you along with him. His cock stays inside of you, plugging you full of his come.

Your body trembles with the aftershocks of your orgasm, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. 

Logan is warm and grounding under you, soft and lax. You can feel his heartbeat, strong and steady beneath your cheek, and you press a soft kiss to the skin there, a silent reminder.

His hand comes up to thread through your hair, his touch gentle now, his body relaxed in a way that it wasn’t before.

“I love you,” he whispers against the crown of your head, his voice soft, vulnerable in a way that makes your heartache.

You smile, soft and secretive in the valley of his pecs, “I love you too.”

It’s a quiet admission, the first time you’ve ever said that to each other with words. The first time you both felt the need to, because it’s nothing you didn’t already know.

Your blood dripping from his teeth lays the same claim over you as his come dripping down your thighs.

It means you're his, and he’s yours.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

[fictionismyreality3]

Hiiiiii I'm SO SO SO MADLY IN LOVE with your Stalker!Jason fic, the way you wrote it was just UGH TAKE ME (sure did put me to some quality sleep there).

I was hoping if you would write about Classmate!Jason (n kinda stalk-ish) where he is protective n stuff towards reader (much like sunshine x grumpy trope)

Love love loveeeeee your writing🖤🖤🖤

-🦇anon-

Make You Pay

Jason Todd x Reader

You’re my second emoji anon and as such I have adopted you and will not take no for an answer 😇

Tags: classmate!jason, stalker!jason, possessive!jason, jealous!jason, angry!jason, innocent!reader if you look really hard

Warnings: allusions to violence, motorcycles, stalking

Notes: no hate to surfer dudes ☮️

Your pencil hit repeatedly on the dark wood of the desk, sending little taps echoing throughout the otherwise quiet library. You had an exam in two weeks and were already struggling through the study material your professor provided for you. Passing this class seemed like a mile away. How the hell were you going to pass your biology final if the only thing you remembered was that mitochondria was the powerhouse of the cell?

The only thing keeping you going at this point was picturing the cute faces of the puppies, kittens and other animals you’d get to help once you’d graduated. Using the last of your willpower, you moved on to the next slide deck, only for your laptop to give out on you, the screen going black. As if your day couldn’t get any worse.

“Hey, baby, come take a break from studying.”

Okay, maybe you spoke a little too soon.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the curly, blonde headed figure of Holden coming your way, a sneer on his face. Despite the fact that your skin was crawling from the pet name, you began to hastily pack up your stuff, pretending not to see him.

It wasn’t that you were the type of girl to be complacent with poor intentioned men, but Holden had obviously taken your first day of class friendless a little too close to his heart.

“C’mon, baby. I know you see me.” He said, his words with an undertone of slimy sarcasm.

Sighing to yourself, you shoved the last of your papers into your bag and turned to face him, plastering a smile on your face as you began walking to the library exit.

“Sorry, I really have to go, my friends are waiting for me.” You said politely.

Making a beeline for the exit, you glanced back at Holden, hoping he didn’t follow you, and bumped into someone, your book bag scattering across the floor.

Big, calloused hands filled your field of view, handing you your books as you frantically gathered your things. Your gaze was met with the blue-green eyes of Jason Todd.

He wasn’t someone you knew very well, usually sitting in the back of the lecture halls where you preferred the front, but you’d seen him riding around campus on his motorcycle. From the limited interaction you did have with him, his lips always seemed to be pressed in a thin line of annoyance, or pulled down in a soft frown. So, you always tried your best to cheer him up, but the most you’d ever earned was a little snicker after a ridiculously bad joke.

You wondered why he had so much to frown about.

Before now, Jason hadn’t taken much notice of you, the bubbly girl who seemed to constantly radiate some level of happiness. At most he found you less annoying than then rest of the people on campus. Maybe it was because you looked so startled, innocently glancing between him and that blonde dickhead who was constantly on your ass. Maybe it was how he noticed your hands were so much smaller than his, brushing against his skin as he handed you your notebook.

Maybe it was because you were on your hands and knees, but Jay suddenly noticed the pretty colour of your hair, and the way your clothes reflected your sunny personality. Your eyes were a little more captivating and he found himself wanting to reach out and run his thumb along your bottom lip.

He also wanted to break the nose of that surfer looking idiot who was still talking.

“Here, don’t let ‘em bother you, sweetheart.” Helping you up, Jason ushered you to continue to wherever you were going. “Thank you?” You mumbled confused, the pet name hugging you like a warm blanket.

As you were practically pushed out the library doors, you looked back to see Jason exchanging words with Holden, who was getting more and more disagreeable. You were never the type to get involved in trouble, so you quickly turned on your heel and walked away.

When he was done with asshole Henry.. Harry? Jason didn’t care, he made his way to his bike, pulling out his phone and opening up an app, technology courtesy of Bruce. He wanted to make sure you got back to the dorms safely, and the tracker he’d slipped in your book bag would ensure that.

It wasn’t anything sinister, Jason just knew now that he had found something far too precious for this world, something that was too sweet and gentle to take care of itself. That’s okay.

He would take care of you now.

You saw Jason again a few days later. Holden didn’t show up to class that week, and nobody commented on Jay’s bloody knuckles.

[lowkeyrobin]

hi could you please write smth about accidentally revealing your relationship with quackity? preferably with cc!reader <3

of course!! thanks for the request 🫶 ; ik I did a preference about accidentally revealing relationships but doing a little different thing and going in depth w it was fun!

QUACKITY ; softlaunch ❌ hardlaunch ✅

summary ; you and Alex accidentally reveal your relationship

warnings ; language, little bit of buzzed ranting, use of pet names (babe)

genre ; fluff

word count ; 1k

masterlist

You and Alex have been together for about ten-ish months, keeping it on the low since you'd been traveling around for QSMP meetups, events, and the Streamer Awards for a little bit.

You'd finally gotten home, your shared apartment with Alex, with Cellbit and Roeir tagging along. The three were planning to make a 'trying mexican candies' video in the morning while you were planning to edit and maybe stream til you felt tired enough to quit and sleep. The three guys sit out in the living room, watching some TV show as they sprawl out on the couch, buzzed from the aftermath of award winning.

You were more than proud for your boyfriend, but it being so late now, and your need for comfort after being overstimulated for hours on end, called for a little alone time. You sit in your office, the clock reading 1:30am as you hit the Go Live button on your stream.

You decided to chill out behind the closed door, just chatting with whatever viewers were still awake at this hour, or were just beginning their day, depending on timezones. After five minutes, you greet your chat, snacking on some cookies you'd picked up from the store before returning home earlier, a glass of milk sitting on your desk next to the plastic box.

You sit in your very comfortable chair with a QuackityHQ hoodie, with the signature duck in the corner and design on the back, and some long, patterned pj pants, colored dark blue and black with a floral design. They were thin enough to wear in the warm heat, which was perfect for you. You looked tired but didn't really feel that way, like your eyes were sewn open from adrenaline and happiness.

"Good morning, everyone" You chuckle, "Alex just won an award, feeling good! He, Cellbit and Roier got some drinks and have been watching TV on the couch, so sorry if you can hear them. I closed the door just in case but don't mind any shouting or music"

Your chat explodes with messages, congratulating you, even though you lost in your category, and spamming hearts and heart hands emojis. Someone sends in a small donation, asking for clarification why they were at your house.

"Oh, Alex didn't wanna drive all the way back to his place and he had his car parked here from earlier. He drove the other two and we all left together. They're staying the night" You nod, clarifying with a little bit of lying, not wanting to slip up.

You'd known for a while that Alex was just a secretive person over the smallest things, and he didn't know why. You were totally fine being open about your relationship with friends, but made sure to respect boundaries for him. He reassured you in his own panic that he wasn't embarrassed to be with you and didn't want to hide his love for you often.

He explained it in simplest terms as he was weirdly secretive and he didn't want his weirdo stans attacking you or only watching you for him, he didn't want to ruin your fanbase that you built from the ground up. You'd been friends since forever, a good percentage (if not all, then most) of your fans also watched Quackity's content, which kind of made sense to you, but you didn't question it.

"But yeah, it was fun, just like... there were so many people, and so much was happening all at once and shit. I'm just trying to calm down and get tired." You lightly smile, taking a bite of one of your cookies. "I'm so proud of everyone who won and everyone who was nominated, good night for everyone"

You sit and talk to your chat for a while, occasionally listening to the trio's laughter outside your office. Before you can even snap your head around to inform whoever entered that you were live, they were already speaking, slightly laughing, and stumbling.

"Babe, oh my God, I'm so sorry! I accidentally dropped one of your plates in the kitchen and it fucking shattered everywhere, I'm so sorry. I cleaned it up, I just wanted to tell you than wait for you to notice and make you mad, I'm sorry, Y/n/n"

Your jaw hangs slightly agape, and you stare with a silent expression. You slowly turn back to your stream, the chat absolutely exploding with messages. You saw probably a hundred first time chatters even making an expression about it.

"Lex, I'm live" You speak between your teeth, muting your mic. "Ah- uh, it's, it's fine"

He quickly regains his composure, staring over at you, then looking over to your PC, showing that you were a thousand percent live and five thousand people heard him say that. By the morning, it'd be all over Twitter and YouTube Shorts and TikTok, people were already clipping it.

"Shit"

"Alex, holy shit"

The two of you sit in silence for a minute, trying to rationalize what to do. Cell and Roier bust into the office as well, seeing both of you silent before asking, where you both talk over each other very loudly to try and explain.

They both look over to your monitors, confirming you were live. They both laugh in a light hearted way, looking to Quackity.

"You're cooked, dude"

"Rest in peace"

"You say that like I'm embarrassed to be with them, I mean, it's not like that... I think. Y/n, are you embarrassed to be with me? I'm not embarrassed to be with you, I wanna post pictures of us on adventures and experiencing shit so people can see us for us and what we are-"

"My brother in Christ" You sigh with a chuckle, rubbing your temples. "It's said and done, it's fine. And no, I'm not embarrassed to be with you" You turn back to your stream, unmuting yourself under the red LED lights and lamp on your desk.

You sigh and shrug before speaking, throwing your hands up halfway in defense.

"Y/s/n real"

[yuutakuns]

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

I have been thinking very deeply about Yuuta in a relationship. I know ultimately he's a cutie that is just the sweetest to his partner but I'm sure we can all agree that there is something so dark and twisted in the way he loves.

Yuuta is the kind of partner that feigns contentment. If you're happy, then he's happy. Or so he thought. It's not that he's unhappy, no, he is extremely happy. But it is exactly this happiness that he cannot let slip and get away. It is because of his anxiousness that he feels he has to grasp for you closer and closer. More than anything, he just wants to be with you.

Content Warnings: MDNI (minors do not interact), 18+,toxic relationship, manipulation, possessiveness, dub-con, cervix fucking, creampies, size kink(ish), afab reader (genitalia mentioned), idk I’m a degenerate, kinda proofread kinda not

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

It starts with little things.

Yuuta tries so hard to be understanding. He knows it's not healthy to be this obsessive. He knows that it's no good for you and it's not good for him. But it's times when you're out with other friends or making time for other people when he feels his heart twist and turn wretched at the sight of you smiling with others. It's this nagging insecurity that eats at him.

When you tell him you made plans to hang out with Yuuji and the others this coming weekend. Yuuta smiles.

"That's great. I'm sure you'll have a lot of fun hanging out with Yuuji! I know you'd prefer to be around someone a lot more positive than hang out with me more than you need to."

Of course Yuuta knows that this is not at all what your intentions are. But he can't help but feel relief in the way your smile drops and your face tinges with worry.

"Yuu- What? No- That's not at all why I'm going out with them-"

"It's okay. You don't have to explain. I know what being around me too long is like. I wouldn't really want to, either."

It's conversations like these that make Yuuta feel like you two are meant to be.

The way you are so willing to drop everything for him, to decide that it's fine. I don't at all mind being with you again this weekend! I don't have to go out. Let's stay in together, I don't want you to feel left behind.

He thinks you're too kind for your own good.

It's little things like this that build up. The way you start to become more isolated from everyone else, telling them sorry, I have plans this weekend or oh, I can't make dinner tonight after all. It's when you choose Yuuta over anyone and everyone else that his heart soars.

It's when you become completely and utterly dependent on Yuuta that he smiles the brightest.

You can't go on without him. If for some reason you do go out alone you know that he's texting you, calling you, or even showing up to meet you. He's everywhere. It's only to make sure that you're safe, of course. You're useless without him. Who knows what trouble you could get into. It’s better this way.

It's when you agree to move in with him. It's safer to be close to each other, and now Yuu doesn't have to go out to your apartment every night to check on you. You're safe right beside him. You don't think you've ever seen him happier.

"It's okay, you'll always be safe when I'm here. So that's why, I'll always follow you wherever you go," Yuuta hums into your ear as you drift off to sleep, dreaming of cold fingers slithering up your body and pressing on your neck as you lay paralyzed. You always wake up in a sweat, fear coating your brow. You chalk it up to a case of stress getting to you.

It's strange. The closer Yuuta and you get the farther you wish you were from him. But if it means Yuuta is happy, then why should you complain?

It's nice to see him smile so widely. You know that he's always been the lonely type. Maybe he just needs to be close to someone for once, to feel genuine security and love.

That's what you remind yourself anyway, as you let Yuuta use your body to satiate his hunger.

Yuuta never used to be so rough. Sure, there were times when you'd try something new or indulge him in an act. But this was something else entirely.

Big fat tears stream down your cheeks as Yuuta rams his thick cock into your pussy. It was a tight fit, as usual.

Sometimes, Yuuta takes it slow and preps you nice and sweet. It reminds you more of the old times when things were a little more simple. But sometimes something possesses Yuuta. You see it in his eyes. It's dark and empty, like a black hole wanting to swallow you hole.

You sob as Yuuta fucks into your dripping wet hole, nails digging into your soft thighs as your tits bounce up and down from his thrusts. Yuuta grunts softly, breath shaking as he drills into your pussy, smiling as he watches you make the most fucked out expressions. His cock was so fucking hard, he felt so happy being so close with you. Being so connected with you. He loved feeling the way your walls clenched around his dick, the way your cunt milked him.

You didn’t really want to have sex tonight. But you felt so guilty for rejecting Yuuta. He always looked so hurt when you said you weren’t up for it. Your heart ached when he asked, “Do you not want to be close with me anymore? I’m sorry if I did something wrong. I always mess everything up.” He always knows how to get under your skin.

You moaned as Yuuta stretched out your gummy wet walls. He always knows how to open you up, how to own you completely.

“S-so good. Your pussy is so good. Always so so so good for me. Do you like that? Am I making you feel good? Tell me.”

You sobbed, your cunt clenching around his cock in the most delicious way. “Yuu- I can’t- S’too much— You’re too much—“ You managed to choke out, eyes rolling back whenever his tip fucked into your cervix. You felt his dick twitch at the sound of your sobs.

He was in so deep, situated between your open legs. Your legs held up over his shoulders as he bent you in half. You could feel his cock as your walls clenched around him, your slick dripping and squelching as he fucked into you. It was so lewd.

You covered your face with your arms instinctually as tears prickled out the corners of your eyes. You were so overstimulated. Yuuta slid his hands over your body to move your arms, holding each down on the side of your head. You couldn’t even have this.

“Look at me, don’t hide. Ngh- I want to see you. Wanna see your pretty face— Ah, show it to me. Show me what’s mine.”

You looked up at him, vision blurred from all the stimulation. He looked down at you, expression adoring as he continued to mercilessly pound into you. You moaned. He was your Yuuta. Your sweet precious Yuuta. Your love, your light. How did it become like this?

Yuuta grunted. “ ‘M close— so close. Can I cum? Can I cum in your pussy? You’re so good baby. You take me so good. I love you. I love you so fucking much. I wanna own you. I wanna be closer to you. Let’s become closer, yeah?”

He maneuvered his hands to grasp for yours, entwining your fingers together as he rammed erratically into your sopping cunt. You cried out soft little moans as you felt his cock piston into you.

You were also close, pussy clenching around his cock. “Yuu- ‘m close— so close, I’m gonna cum!”

“Cum for me baby, cum on my cock. Give me everything. You belong to me. Everything you have belongs to me.”

You came hard, eyes fluttering shut as slick spilled out everywhere onto the bed. You felt so spent.

He let out a sigh as he humped into your used pussy, cock twitching as he released his load into your cunt. He filled you up, made you whole. His cum dripped out of your pussy as he made himself comfy on the bed, still inside of you. He held you close, nuzzling into your neck.

“I love you. More than anything.”

“Yeah.” You sucked in a shakey breath, “I do too.”

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

Harry Potter

The Ordeal of Being Known by louisfake

When Auror Potter is anonymously cursed with silence by being forced to hide his own voice inside his mind, there's unfortunately only one person in the country with the qualifications to fix it: Certified and Licensed Healer Legilimens, Draco Malfoy, specialist in Mind Curses and Afflictions. It's obviously a terrible idea, a disaster waiting to happen, but Draco's never been able to back down from a challenge... especially from Potter.

Features fuzzy cartoon slippers, devious house elves, 90s music, and lots—LOTS—of memories. Ron is annoyingly hot, Hermione sees right through you, Harry is a powerful idiot, and Draco is a reclusive masochist that would buy an entire city if it would make a kid happy. (And Pansy is "5'2, I wanna dance with you, and I'm sophisticated fun.")

Super Mario Bros

Cooking Mama (Luigi)! by Little_RedHots_Riding_Hood

Luigi was having a perfectly peaceful stroll through the Toad Market - the sun was shining, he'd just found a lovely handmade blanket, and was on his way to the bakery before heading back to his and Mario's home.

Only... what was that sniffling noise from that dark, scary alleyway?

Of all the creatures he was expecting to find, the littlest prince of the Koopa Kingdom certainly wasn't it.

Star Wars

the tiger is out by elumish

Wolffe looks like he’s regretting having a second Jedi with them.

DC

Cryp-Tim by PrinceJakeFireCake

"The cons of dating Tim Drake were innumerous. For one, he was almost impossible to photograph, and so none of Kon’s friends at school actually believed he existed. His family was scary, horrifying really, and all of them seemed to find joy in making Tim regret ever being born. And Tim had charmed Ma and Pa Kent so thoroughly, they had ditched their shovel talk to instead coo at him and offer him pie and compliment him for fixing their tractor, so Kon was at a disadvantage when it came to intimidating someone with his family.”

Kon and Tim date. It goes pretty well, all things considered.

Tim Has a Hero Worship-y Crush on Every Robin Ever by PrinceJakeFireCake

"Tim as an adult was bad enough, Tim with no filter as a child was too much to be around."

Cork Board Contingencies by PrinceJakeFireCake

If you don’t use a cork board to obsessively plan contingencies for every possible way a date with your best friend can go, how can you go on a date at all?

Excerpt: “Are you free next Saturday?” Tim asked, pretty sure that Kon’s jumble of words was agreement that he wanted to date Tim.

“Maybe!” Kon exclaimed.

“Cool,” Tim commented, taking another sip of his drugged grape soda (“Dammit, Tim,” he mentally told himself. “Do not give in! Buy new grape soda! Stop drinking the drugged grape soda! I’ve shotgunned another can of drugged grape soda, haven’t I? Dammit, that makes five!”) then saying, “That gives me just enough time to pass out for fifty-two hours and plan our first date."

Immunology by JustGettingBy

Hypothetically speaking. Could a hybrid creature become suddenly not viable? Like say it survives being an embryo, makes it through growing up, and then just one day… stops? the text from Kon reads.

Tim’s heart spikes up through his ribs. Kon. What’s happening?

(OR Kon gets the flu. It becomes Tim's problem.)

Change of Plans by PrinceJakeFireCake

"Who’s your friend, Tim?” the voice asked.

Jason hissed. This was his baby! Not his friend!

“Sorry, sorry,” the voice hastened to apologize. “I mean, who’s your parent, Tim?”

AKA, who has the time to be a murderous crime/drug lord when there are kittens to adopt

Motion Blur by sElkieNight60

At Damian's school art showcase, Bruce realizes he needs to help Tim reframe their relationship.

[beansmack2021]

She's Yours Now (Pt. 2)

Platonic!Teen!Reader x Hazbin Crew

TW: Mentions of abuse, death, murder, Reader is lowkey kind of op lol, mentions of drugs

Charlie wasn't really sure who she'd expected to see when her father sent her straight into the heart of Pride. She just knew that Lucifer himself didn't believe that this new soul deserved to be damned to Hell for eternity. Or until the next extermination, if she was one of the unlucky casualties.

She tried not to think too hard about the fates of many of her people. She'd start seething soon enough, and then she'd be practically useless on their trip to find their newest arrival. Still, she couldn't help the sensation of her blood boiling when she pictured the masked angel exorcists.

"Char, breathe. You're crushing my hand."

She snapped out of it pretty quickly. "Sorry, Vaggie. I'm just... I'm thinking about the extermination. We don't have much time, and I mean, we have plenty of people who don't even deserve to be here, but they're going to die again. This new arrival is apparently the perfect example. My dad doesn't even think she should be here."

Charlie personally didn't believe any sinner deserved the punishment that Heaven had dealt them. The whole point of her hotel was to make the people of Hell see the light and bring them to their utopia. It hurt to know that even if every other soul in Hell left, she'd never be able to, but she also knew that her life's mission was to help others.

She took a deep breath, the sulfuric smell and red haze of Hell reminding her that she couldn't just wallow, and she definitely couldn't rage. She, Angel Dust, and Vaggie had been walking for what felt like hours. They'd passed plenty of bloodied up sinners, a few shaking each other down for some baggies of white powder, but still didn't notice anyone out of the ordinary.

That was until they heard a crashing sound in the alley to their right. Vaggie readied her spear, leading the way quietly down the alley. They heard another rustling sound and Vaggie quickly pointed her spear at the source of the sound.

Charlie put her hand out in front of Vaggie to lower her spear, taking in the girl before them. She was small, definitely younger, and terrified. She had doe-like features, like fluffy ears, a snout, white freckles, and big eyes. Her hair was dark and curly, and she had curtain like bangs. She definitely didn't look like she belonged there. They found their new arrival. She sniffed once, eyes wide as she stared at them.

"Please. Don't hurt me." The young doe was practically whispering.

"Oh! We're not going to hurt you! We're here to help." Charlie crouched down, offering the girl a warm smile. "I'm Charlie Morningstar. I run the Happy Hotel here. Our mission is to redeem as many sinners as possible so that they may make it to Heaven someday."

The girl looked at the ground in front of her, thinking to herself for a moment. "So... this really is Hell, huh?"

Charlie nodded once, trying to maintain her composure. She really just wanted to hug the young doe, but she knew that that was probably the one thing the girl wanted the least.

"I know why I'm here. I know I did a bad thing. I just didn't realize the one bad thing could outway so much good. Especially since I did a bad thing for a good reason. I was trying to make sure nothing happened to anyone else, the way it happened to me." She put her head in her hands, laughing once, but it wasn't a happy laugh. She was in shock.

Charlie reached out a hand, trying to comfort the girl, but it was almost like she sensed the movement in the air. She flinched, grabbing onto the wall behind her and the trashcan beside her. She pulled herself up and took off down the road.

"No! Come back! We're just here to help!"

Vaggie met Charlie at the end of the alley, putting a hand on her shoulder. The same gesture that had the doe-ish girl running for the hills. A gesture that was supposed to be comforting and instead scared her more.

"Uhhhh... toots, you're gonna wanna see this."

Angel Dust stood staring at something on the ground where the girl had once been. Charlie gasped as she took in the sight before her.

"Did she do this?" Vaggie mumbled.

"This" was... definitely a sight.

The trash can was no longer in its original state. There was a gaping hole, with ashy edges. The wall wasn't looking much better. The small girl, who seemed so terrified and helpless, had disintegrated the bricks and metal that had surrounded her.

Charlie looked at Vaggie. "We need to find her. Before someone gets hurt."

[rowretro]

𝕄𝔼𝕋𝔸𝕃 𝕄𝔼𝔼𝕋𝕊 𝕃𝕆𝕍𝔼

✧taglist✧: @baevsxii @nikisdubblchococake @manooffline

✧warnings: Yandere themes, toxic themes, unhealthy love, mentions of blood, manipulation(?), shirtless-ish Riki

♡synopsis: Nishimura Riki. The Robot created by Yang Jungwon himself, a robot that is insanely human like, inside and out. No one could tell he was a robot. However, the Robot had possessed demonly powers, from Satan himself. So I guess you could see it's a half robot. Yang y/n, the younger sister of Jungwon finds herself stuck to this robot 24/7 no matter what she tried, he will always be by her because she's his muse, his world, his love, his obsession.

(PART 4)

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"Trust me Y/n I've tried everything... I even tried throwing acid, not even the skin got affected!" Jungwon exclaimed in a whisper as Y/n sighed. "I have an Idea... lets just attack him w everything we have!" She said as Jungwon thought for a second before nodding. It was at least worth a try, no matter how badly things may end up going.

Y/n watched as the robot worked around in the kitchen. Multiple pots and pans being used at once. The stove was on which made things perfect. Y/n pulled out the aerosol air spray, aiming it at the robo man. However Riki was quicker "Hazard detected. No flammables allowed near flames. Aerosol spray is a safety hazard!" He explained, yanking the can away from her, putting it far, out of her reach, where it'd be safe.

Riki turned the stove off, carrying y/n to the living room "Don't come in the kitchen... I've a feeling you might hurt yourself" The man simply said, his tone monotonous as Jungwon rolled his eyes. There and then, Y/n sprayed his eyes with a different aerosol spray, the robot not even flinching, Jungwon on the other hand, set fire to him with a lighter, yanking Y/n away, as he ran through the hallway, his grip on y/n firm, making sure she was with him.

The 2 came to a sudden halt. There before them was the metal man himself. Not a scratch, not a burn. just his poor clothes tattered clothes, with some flames on them. The robot man's gaze was dark, he slapped off the flames, slipping off the worthless shirt that revealed the majority of his abs. "You want to kill me?..." The robot asked as he stared at the 2, he suddenly approached Jungwon, seeing this, Y/n jumped in front of him "DON'T HURT MY BROTHER." She warned as Jungwon pulled her behind him. "Why would I hurt you 2?..." he asks, sounding a little hurt...

Y/n and Jungwon didn't know what to say or do. His eyes were holding sincere emotions, he looked like he was betrayed by someone he trusted with his whole living. "And you Jungwon? the one who created me? the one who's practically like a father to me?... Jungwon hyung? d-do you really hate me so much you wish I was gone hyung?" The robot asked, his eyes now swelling with tears. Y/n felt a little bad... not as bad as how Jungwon felt though.

"A-And you y/n?... i-if that's what you want then go ahead my darling, my world, my everything. I kill for you of course I'd even die for you sweetheart, I'll do anything for you to be happy!" The teary-eyed robot said, opening his chest, revealing the metallic ribs, and other human-like organs that were all metal and not so gory, inside was his heart, red, beating, real heart. "Stab it. if you want me gone stab my heart." He simply said, giving Y/n the knife.

His hands held tightly onto hers, making her grip the handle tightly. The blade inches away from his beating heart, yet he forced for her to stab it. Finally, y/n pulled away, not stabbing his heart. The robot closed his chest, the robotic system out of sight. "I-I'm sorry..." Y/n trailed off, as Jungwon hugged him. Riki hugged him with one arm, his eyes on Y/n who was staring at the ground.

A troubling smirk made it's way onto his lips as he examined how guilty she looked. Like she could kill him? his heart was indestructible. God humans are such idiots, little fools, so easy to break. Oh how Y/n believed him so blindly. It just adds to why he should be there to look after her, and keep her to himself 24/7.

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[futurequibblerjournalist]

Sorry if youve explained b4 but why did you name your shipes those names? :0

I don't think I've covered that so far? Not all of them were made up by me tbf, most of them came from @literallysleepy but I'd be happy to explain them! I've not mentioned them all on here I think, but I'll cover what I've got. Obviously there are some we didn't come up with you I figured I'd just include them all

Cosmiccreation/Xenophilius x Pandora: A reference to their hippie-ish attitudes (a common headcanon for them in general but especially in aus) and the creation is based off of Pandora's occupation as an inventor. I have seen quillseer for this two as well, the quill from Xenophilius's occupation as an editor for The Quibbler and seer because it's a popular headcanon that Pandora is one, but since I don't follow that headcanon it doesn't make sense for me to use that shipname. If I see a shipname with seer in it, I'll likely think it's for Sybill

Crownest/Severus x Igor: It originally started as Crow's Nest but obviously it doesn't fit with the way a shipname is usually written. A crow is a dark bird (obviously) and then a crow's nest is also a structure in the upper part of the main cast of a ship, so there's the dark bird for Severus and then there's the bird in reference to Igor as well and then the ship is a reference to Igor and him being from Durmstrang and the fact that they travel by ship and all that

Flowerpot/James x Lily: Just a fun name for jily, really, I know it's not used as much but yeah,,, Lily=flower, James=Pot(ter)

Ratseer/Peter x Sybill: Peter's animagus is a rat, Sybill is a seer.

Rosekiller/Barty x Evan: Rose comes from Rosier and killer is just,, well it's Barty and he's a murderer so like,, yeah rosekiller

Seabunny/Charity x Igor: Similar like how a crow's nest is a thing on a ship, the sea comes from Igor's connection to Durmstrang and their chosen mode of transportation aka a ship sailing the sea. The bunny part comes from Igor calling Charity "Bunny" as a nickname because she's bunny-like in his head. She scrunches her nose when she smiles and laughs (like a bunny nose twitching), she's very bouncy in general, and during sex she'll thump her foot in the air like a bunny

Starchaser/Sunseeker/James x Regulus: Regulus is a star, James is the sun, chaser and seeker are common headcanons for their quidditch positions. James is chasing the star aka Regulus and Regulus is searching for the sun aka James

Starrynight/Aurora x Severus: It feels a little self-explanatory, but the starry comes from Aurora and her fascination with the stars and night comes from Severus and him generally

Whitecastle/Lucius x Narcissa: It's a reference to their light palettes and their high status

Wiseprince/Edmund Jr x Severus: The Avery family is represented by Barn Owls and owls commonly symbolize wisdom, hence the wise and Severus's mother's name is Prince and it's been used for his half of a ship name in other ships. These two were also called emofaggot for a while lmaoooo cause,,, Edmund's a faggot and have you looked at Severus?

Wolfstar/Remus x Sirius: Wolf=Remus, star=Sirius

This was super fun to go through, I'm honestly surprised no one asked before! Cause like in my head they obviously make sense but yeah they might not to everyone else vfnbjgnbjg

[cocomintcat]

Hazbin Hotel x Seraph! Reader (platonic)

Info and get to know her

My first small oc idea that I'm making an x reader type deal! Info:

Reader: angel name Eliora, fallen name (y/n) || 150 years old? (aka 15 in human years ?? I'm guessing cuz Charlie presents like a 20 year old while being 200+ ) aka child seraph that is smaller than emily and around a few inches shorter than lucifer || blended Blush on the cheeks and nose, little heart nose

Angel form looks: gold halos around her neck, wrists and ankles along with above her head, eye on her collarbone area and one on the back of her hands, pastel/soft colors for this form, dress is a flowy yet comfortable gown with ballet flats || 6 wings from her head, can transfer them to be bigger wings on her back

Fallen: horns sprout from her forhead like Charlie and lucifer (because she's not acclimated properly to hell she can't hide them) || her gold halos are now black and slightly broken/bent) || she now has a heart tipped demon tail || more red colors but still light, colors darken with anger/negative emotions || main outfit is an sweetheart topped a-line dress with a black headpiece with an attached veil (your imagination to what you want the headpiece to be), for shoes she has simple black heels over some black tights || has both set of her wings (head and back) showing most of the time, her head wings act like ears now moving to her emotions

More notes: sweet, innocent but not necessarily naive (she knows things but is more innocent as inexperienced), shy, kind, sometimes there's not a thought behind those eyes (innocent puppy look), affectionate, can fight only to protect others, She is aroace (because I am and I said so)

Likes: chocolate, Saf, animals, Lucifer and Charlie, red and purple, lemon rasberry soda, hugs, seeing those she cares for happy

Dislikes: cruelty, unfair punishment, pure evil, the dark, being alone, the cold, others crying, herself crying in front of others, burdening others

Readers angel pet: a small seraph (just an eye with wings, basically acts like a bird + a puppy) named Saf (short name for a small seraph, get it, I'm not sorry)

Eliora is known as God's little princess, she's favored among the elders as she is very innocent, Adam likes her too (takes on older brother role). Though everyone thinks she's too sympathetic towards sinners and hellborns (alongside lucifer).

The fall, it wasn't really a fall as much as it was banishment. She got wrongly accused by a jealous winner who wanted to rise in ranks, she befriended Eliora only to betray her and frame her. Unfortunately no one believed Eliora's innocence even with proof that she was (fearing she had become too much like lucifer). She was banished to hell, she can't become too demonic since her sin wasn't true nor actually done that's why it lightly affects her appearance but the longer in hell she is her body will change to adjust.

When she was sent, Lucifer witnessed it, immediately taking her under his wing. He gave her the name (y/n) to help her try to move on. After a while of taking care of her he let's Charlie know of her existence. Of course this becomes found family and well you get it... It's a new adventure of reader joining the Magnes family to bring sinners to redemption!!

I'll do a more indepth Prologue but for know this is your summary and info to know!!

Spoiler-ish but the dynamics I plan:

Heaven

Adam- older brother

God- "bio" dad type feel (daddy issues anyone)

Lute- kinda mean cousin but cares deeply about you

Sarah- motherly friend

Emily- 100% big sister vibes

Bia (bee-uh) treh (tre-ey)- BFF (not for long)

Hell

Lucifer- adoptive dad that made everything better (actually her brother but acts more like a dad to her)

Charlie- she adopted (y/n) no choices allowed you are her sister now anyone who hurts you gets a first or second death (she's also technically ur niece but is that really a big deal?)

Vaggie- sister in law to the rescue (she knew you in heaven and is pissed for you)

Angel dust- big brother (he treats you like Molly ain't gonna let anyone forcefully take your innocents)

Husker- same as angel but more of a 2nd father figure (he got claws that he will use)

Alastor- weird uncle that becomes like a distant father figure (he trying to avoid soft spots but it seem you happen to remind him a bit of his mother [in the loving kindness sense])

Sir pentious- Weird cousin that is also weirdly a younger siblings that's actually older than you (immature older person with mature and caring younger)

Nifty- she is like a young aunt that acts like your older sister in a weird way and we love it

Rosie- Mom (need I say more lol)

Cherrybomb- your her Lil sister and she is going to bring you into all the chaos

(That's all I can remember atm I'll add more later)

Hopefully I feel motivated to do the prologue and parts soon (struggling rn)

[ilovescaredysquirrel2]

Inside Out 2 was decent (possible spoilers)

Okay so I don't really get hyped for Inside Out 2 as much as everyone else does, but I'm not denying that it was a cute movie, it had it's pros and cons. It's nothing special, though. I enjoyed the fist one and I love the new characters in the sequel. I'll start with the pros because there's more cons.

Okay, so I mostly love how they didn't push any romance tropes, other than Disgust hitting on that video game guy (that i noticed Anger and Fear kind of checking him out as well) and personally I think giving Disgust a love interest was out of character for her, but it worked. I mean, she's usually disgusted at everything but seeing a hot purple hair anime warrior calms her down. I actually LOVE how they had Riley crush on a video game character an not a boy at her school, I was so happy about that. Those of you who wanted Riley to be lesbian, I'm so sorry! I'm okay with that personally, even though I support LGBT, because I think it's more relatable for me the majority of girls watching that they didn't make her a lesbian. Maybe Disney will make a lesbian protagonist someday? And if not, maybe a better movie company will! Also, there's no romance between any of Riley's emotions, yay! It doesn't make sense if there was! Also, I like how they referenced to Dora the explorer in a funny, lighthearted way, instead of making fun of it in an offensive way. I hate when people make fun of innocent kids shows to be offensive, I really think they referenced to Dora just for laughs. Also, Anxiety's a decent character. I like her, personally. I like the idea of Disney not having real villains anymore, because not everything is just pure bad or good. Anxiety was just an antagonist and it's okay, she also got redemption too.

Now for the cons... and this is gonna be long. Okay, I DO NOT SUPPORT DISNEY! I mean, I don't think this movie should be the thing that brings Disney/Pixar back from their dark ages, but I'm not hating on the Inside Out 2. I do think it's overrated. My biggest complaint was the fact that THEY STOLE CHARACTER DESIGN FROM ANOTHER MOVIE and here's the pictures to prove it

Yeah, that dark secrets character looks almost exactly like Dark from Orion and the Dark, a movie that came out BEFORE Inside Out 2! and those of you saying "but they were working on both movies at the same time" WRONG! The movies were released at least 4 months apart and Disney does often rush their recent projects like they rushed the making of Wish! Another thing, the human animations in Inside Out 2 looked a little less rendered, while the emotion animations and facial expressions were PERFECT! Also, is it just me or does Riley sound younger in this sequel than she did in the first one? Which it doesn't make sense since she went through puberty, right?

In conclusion, the story is pretty decent but I don't think it's worth spending money to see in theaters. If you really desperately want to see it in theaters, fine! I prefer watching it online and don't forget that the free websites exist. The illegal copy of the movie (you know, the hidden camera recorded version with the slot machines) is on the free websites like Actvid and Kisscartoon. Go ahead and watch it on there if you're like me and you're just watching it because of extra free time, and you don't really want to give your money to the Big D.

Anyway, I'm basically neutral on this movie, feel free to state your opinion. Again, I'm not a Disney fan and yet I'm not denying that this was an okay-ish movie. I just don't think it's worth seeing in theaters when you can watch it online for free and Disney won't be robbing you.

[herteitr-runar]

hi! idek how to introduce this so here we go

(genuinely so sorry if this is the weirdest ask you have gotten in your life or i sound like a crazy person or anything at all like that 😭 really i just admire your skill and creativity a lot)

so- when i was trying to find the art style i wanted to have there was this super specific appearance and like feeling i wanted it to have but i could not really conceptualize it or figure out how to do what i wanted to do. like i wanted it to be kinda dark in tone and like similar to a look that another artist i like has but more like realistic but still working with a cartoonish vibe sometimes. but very specifically with all of that i wanted it to be like a really old fairytale books illustrations feeling mixed with anime ish-ness

to my eyes at least, your art is the exact feeling i really wanted my art to have, like i saw it for the first time scrolling in the norway tag and kind of just stopped? it was like- actual out loud „Holy shit that is incredible“ moment. so! uh yeah! seeing your works is really really awesome and i really enjoy all of your different art styles and works

anyways i wanted to say all that because i think artists deserve a lot of appreciation and to know directly their work is appreciated, and also your art is like- one of my favourites ever so i thought i should let you know? anyways! i hope you always find enjoyment in making art and wish you the best :D!

i've only opened the app again to see this and i've been reading it over and over and over looking exactly like these

DON'T BE SORRY !!! THAT'S GENUINELY THE NICEST THING I'VE LIKE. EVER RECEIVED AND I'M AT SUCH A LOSS FOR WORDS ON HOW TO EVEN START TO THANK YOU ... 😭😭❤️❤️

just knowing that my art is something that had such an impact on you on these aspects ..... !!!!! I don't even know how to describe how astounded i am . seriously 🥲 astounded is far from the best word i'm like. feeling every feeling ever x10000 (i am very articulate with my thoughts as you can see)

from the bottom of my heart it's such an honour to read this 🫶 and i wish the exact same for you as well !! keep on drawing to achieve everything you must ❤️

(if you would ever want suggestions, some tips or anything else regarding art, art styles & artists please don't hesitate to lmk also! there's a lot i'd be happy to share if needed!! 🫶)

[vnyverse]

may i request a scenario with haerin where, they’re about to sleep facing each other and despite the darkness around them, reader still manages to see and capture haerin’s beauty. slightly touching her features to feel it and smiling at just how lucky she is to have haerin.

this is too specific but i dreamt of it and can’t get it out of my head. also just because i love haerin so much 🥲

side note: i really really really love and enjoy your work AND I AM NOT EXAGGERATING. i love the way you narrate and everything. you’re my favourite author out of everyone. keep writing wonderful works, vyny!

a/n: I’m glad you like my writing, and I hope you like my playful take on this! I'm still exploring what lenses I’d like to write through, and am currently experimenting between multiple writing styles so I apologise if my works seem to be inconsistent or have gaps! Always open for requests and criticism. I’ve personally never been attached to anyone, been in love with or crushed on anyone before, so sometimes I sort of write in my own way of how I am able to appreciate what I sense and see, sorry if its a little oddball-ish. A little embarrassing when I think of it sometimes heheh

Bts I guess but I listened to a whole christmas playlist writing this because I think christmas songs are what give me most warmth even if I don’t celebrate xmas? (Think jazz, Louis Armstrong, Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald, an occasional sprinkle of Chet Baker.)

 Cold, seemingly bland spaces can be warmed up with the presence of belongings. Belongings that tell a story, or for the matter of fact reveal anything about its owner, that a homeowner may be an adult who values utility, a child that is obsessed with aeroplanes, or a teenager that likes punk music. Today, the rain’s gentle pitter patters and the ensuing cold made it as if you were a cold space in need of light and warmth. The television host of whatever gameshow was playing was so perky you wanted to give her a slap, but it did its job of holding your attention hostage till the centrepiece returned- your dearest Haerin. Just as you think of her, a knock on the walnut door is heard. 

 Her presence was made known with the little shuffles- what you knew as attempts to remove those shoes she complained were too tight. You made a mental note to get her another pair one size bigger. What you didn’t expect, however, was that she came home bare-faced, like she had conquered the day of nosy reporters and blinding camera flashes without any make-up. It was a pleasant change, and you wish it could be that way, she was in her full beauty without makeup, you always thought so, and you genuinely wished that she could do whatever she found comfortable, of course that was not to say that olive-coloured contact lenses, some lip tint amongst other beauty products had no effect of enhancing her beauty. It was just because it was simply a pity the world would never get to appreciate her in her most natural form. No, she was not a black cat, a dancer, singer or a girl group member. In the moments you spend together she is her inquisitive self, a soul deserves happiness, a young maiden that finds beauty in making sense of her surroundings. God even knows what it was that made her chuckle at her own antics sometimes, just like now, with little sounds summoned by her almost tripping over your shoes, the very corner of her pillowy cherry lips threaten to remain high up, and then she does the little thing where she bites one side of her bottom lip, leaving the side out playfully-as if it took the place of a tongue that was supposed to stick out. That’s a part of what makes her so lovely and refreshing.

 You take your time with her, as you always do. How could you not when she looks at you like that? When she looks at you like you’re her whole world. God sure took his time crafting this girl’s features. She melts into your touch as you ready her for her skincare routine by gently brushing her long, dusty ash coloured hair, before tying it together in a neat bun. You think to yourself how everyone else can always be classified as a colour, but Haerin in essence would never be so one dimensional that she simply falls under any one specific colour. She could be a sky blue if she wanted, or maybe a lilac purple, hell, the girl could even be a dark maroon if she desired so. Now she was all ready for bed, and you could not resist tracing your fingers through her features, what she responded with was a curt nod coupled with unmistakably happy orbs, what you’ve deciphered to be simultaneously  a green light and a yes please. 

 You’ve thought for long how exactly to piece together her beauty to Haerin herself in words, the best you can and without thinking you muster up something between nothing and everything, a coughed out ball of adjectives you somehow managed to deliver. You could, as cliche as it sounded, and did in fact exaggerate that you would have a video camera pan in and out of her features, edit it, and have an audience gasp at the entirety of the video, and this is how you envision it goes. You cringe at your idea now, thinking of yourself as a genius no more as you reveal your elementary idea to God’s now dozing off magnum opus. 

 You were sure every glance at her kittenish countenance would be a perpetual wonder for you. Her hair, when tied up, revealed little ears that seemed to perk up excitedly, whether out of shyness when she faced you, or if they maybe wanted to take a peek at you when your eyes weren’t on hers. How her kind, gentle brows seemed so gently slant it allowed your eyes to follow them and slowly move south like a traveller, onto large and curious almond eyes that put other honey coloured eyes to shame, not before taking a gentle descent down the slope of her nose, her shapely soft cheekbones, and perfectly deep dimples that were lethal for any pair of eyes to travel toward. The journey does not end there, of course, your eyes would then take a trip to how the area near the ends of her lip would subtly crease at whatever little observation she had that successfully demanded her attention, and how her puffy cheeks were annoyingly soft. 

 But until you are sure you can express the entirety of your absolute and spontaneous  appreciation for her, you express it through the little things. 

“Night night beautiful.”

“You too.. loveyouy/n”

 Now you pull the sheets over the girl, for your exploration could take place after abundant rest and maybe then you would find something new and equally intriguing on your next. 

___________________________

This girl is just so adorable 🥰

[typingcorgi]

sanctuary; part ii

read part i here

pairing: joel miller x f!reader (no y/n)

warnings: tw for mention of blood, mild gore, violence, age difference hinted, no smut yet but honey have you met me? it's coming (and so is joel, and you, ey-ohhhh)

word count: 1.5k

author's notes: canon divergent aka no ellie I'm sorry kids cramp my style

still no smut i'm so sorry but i needed a little bit of a bridge from the last chapter before you and joel go to bone town. So this is violent-ish (I'm a very vanilla writer so if you are seeking major thrills you aren't going to find them here lol)

As always, if you like this, please leave a comment or reblog!! I am so happy to be sharing this garbage with you, whether you like it or not, and can't wait to get to the next part. BRING ON DA SMUT

also thanks @magpie-to-the-morning for reminding me you can put cars in neutral

taglist: @avengersfan25 @fairytale07

Gunshots used to remind you of Outbreak Day.

You weren’t old enough to comprehend the severity of the circumstances. Looking back on it now, severity doesn’t even seem strong enough of a word. It was more of a cataclysm, a shattering of the world you’d known for a world you weren’t prepared to enter. 

New York was the first city to be bombed. The outbreak was impossible to contain on the thirteen-mile island, the Infected found on every street corner, every bend in Central Park. You were young, just beginning to experience the storm and strife of your teenage years when everything you ever knew had been ripped from beneath you within a matter of hours. At the time, you’d been in Boston with your family, unaware that when you’d arrived, you’d never leave.

Gunshots used you remind you of Outbreak Day. Now, you’re hard-pressed to go twenty-four hours without hearing them.

—

The pistol Joel had directed you to use lays useless in your lap. You turn the safety on, even though you’re pretty sure you’d fired the last three bullets mere hours ago. The truck, now essentially your immobile mobile home, is parked on the edge of a side street, overgrown with enough shrubs and greenery to make you believe you’re situated in the middle of a meadow.

It’s unsettling, really, to sit in the passenger seat of your pickup, to feel the rays of the golden sun warm the skin along your cheekbones and reflect against your tired eyes when you had a run-in with death in the dark hours of the morning. To be fair, you have a run-in with death typically multiple times a day, now that you’ve managed to get out of the QZ. The monsters out here are scarier than the druggies and corrupt FEDRA officers you’ve gotten used to. These will continue to track you down like bounty hunters until you’re just as harrowing and inhuman as they are.

And while the rational part of you knows this is life in 2023, this is your New Normal, you hate the idea of your actions dragging both you and your partner into unnecessary danger.

“Here are our options,” Joel mutters over the folded edges of his map. “Marlene mentioned there was a base in Mansfield. We can fuel up there or find a lowlife to siphon from along the way. But there aren’t many discreet ways to get there. If we cut around this way, though, southeast—we should probably be able to manage ourselves.”

A part of you wants to scoff. Probably. Every moment is a probably.

But in Joel’s rare moment of muted optimism, you don’t want to rain on his parade. You nod in quiet agreement.

You are not fully able to manage yourselves.

—

Without your truck, the protective cover you and Joel once reveled in now leaves you open and exposed to the dangerous world around you. The most you can do is put the truck in neutral and push the damn thing down the path Joel’s planned out for you.

It’s exhausting; even in the mild New England spring, you’re breaking a serious sweat. Evidence of exertion forms along your browbone and temples, and at one point, you tie the flannel you’ve been wearing for weeks on end around your waist, leaving your arms and chest exposed in a dark tank top.

“There’s a house up ahead,” you observe, hours into your arduous task. The sun is just starting to slip beneath the horizon, painting the sky in a series of blues and purple-pinks. Against the backdrop of the sky, the house looks eerie and dilapidated, almost out of place. You shake your head and remember it’s the rare moments of beauty–a sky at dusk, the glimmer of the Charles on a golden afternoon, the twinking diamonds of midnight stars—that are out of place. A broken-down home with a hole in the roof is all too ordinary for your liking.

Joel nods through a grimace, broad palms against the trunk as he continues to trudge forward. “Uh-huh,” he acknowledges. “Okay. We’ll stop.”

While the house is seemingly empty, the front door is open, which is never a good sign.

Your stomach twists as Joel examines the doorway, then looks at you. It’s as though his eyes are telling you what his words cannot—I’m right here with you. I’ve got you.

It’s wishful thinking, maybe.

“Let’s go,” Joel says instead, and your heart sinks.

You nod, following behind him. Joel’s grip is tight around his shotgun, with your hands around the neck of his pistol, aimed right in front of you.

Your steps are quiet. The interior smells like dirt and demise. You gulp, following close behind your partner, your unofficial party leader, considering it’s rare you’re the one guiding the both of you into the dark.

Joel is so quiet, you can’t even hear him breathe. Exhale too loudly, and you give away your position to potential enemies. Step the wrong way, make the floorboards creek, and you’re an absolute goner. You mirror his actions, placing your feet in every invisible footprint he leaves in his wake, nearly holding your breath.

You move around the first floor of the house, observing what might have been a living room, a functional kitchen, a decorated hallway. You wonder who lived here on the side of a main road. Was it a family? Did they make it out of here alive?

Or did they get turned before they even had a chance?

You shudder at the possibilities before Joel gently, strategically, opens a mahogany door to the next room. You’re met with a basement entrance, a damp cement staircase, and a musty odor.

But more importantly, more shockingly, you’re met with an ear-curdling scream.

Joel slams the door immediately, eyes widened without giving away every ounce of worry you wonder he might be feeling. “Fuck!” he hisses, and then his hand is on your wrist. He pulls you away from the door, down the hallway, and toward the entrance that’s now become your dire exit.

You hear the clicker clambering up the stairs, its cries violent and deafening. You can hear its frustration as it punches a rugged fist through the basement door, as it scrambles to find the pair of you, to get its rotten hands on you, and transfigure the fibers of your humanity to something decidedly inhuman.

The house isn’t particularly big. It’s not hard for you and Joel to try to make it out the front door alive, but it’s also relatively easy for the monster on your heels to launch itself onto both you and Joel as you practically leap down the front steps.

Your head slams against the ground, and before your body is able to register the pain, the shock of knowing there’s a damn clicker on top of you, and you’re about to die—or worse, turn—begins to sink into every pore and fiber of your being. 

“Joel!” Your scream is ragged and desperate. Tears form in the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall down your dirt-stained cheeks. Your eyes close, unable to meet the sight of the snarling monster above you, its predator hands holding you in a bone-cracking grip before it can take its prey.

“Joel—help—I need—”

You hear two gunshots fire, and while your eyes are still squeezed shut, you sense the clicker’s blood—among other things that you’d rather not think about—splattering against your face. The monster’s grip along your wrists goes limp and falls away.

You survive. For now.

By the time you open your eyes and rise to your feet, you can’t help yourself—you sob into the fabric of Joel’s worn denim, unable to fight off the emotion as well as Joel had fought off the clicker. It’s impossible, knowing you’d been so close to losing yourself, losing this strange life you’ve cultivated alongside a man that can hardly articulate how he feels for you. Does he feel anything? Have you fabricated it this entire time?

It’s not the moment to mull it over, f you’re being honest. But you can’t help it if the thoughts come.

“J—Joel,” you stammer. “Holy shit, I almost—you almost—”

“I know,” he exhales, and you can hear the exasperation in his voice. After months of practice, he doesn’t know how to do this.  His arms are a loose loop around your body. Despite your relationship and the amount of time you’ve spent together, you know vulnerability isn’t Joel’s strong suit. He’s not one to run a hand over your hair and tell you you’re safe. He’s not one to encourage you to cry it out.

But you do anyway, because it might be all you have left to give.

You both decide the truck is safer. He lets you take the first sleeping shift, offering his backpack as a pillow before locking the truck doors.

You’re dozing off. You think you might have heard Joel whisper brave girl in your drowsy haze, but you chalk it up to exhaustion.

[desultory-novice]

I'm sure that you may have heard about Kracko really hating Kirby? It's implied by some pause descriptions to my knowledge, like one from Kirby Fighters Deluxe.

What are your thoughts on this subject? I think it's a funny concept. That some recurring non-final boss character - on the same boat as Whispy Woods, more or less - may hold a serious grudge against Kirby and that could potentially be one of the many reasons it keeps showing up.

I have indeed heard the thing about Kracko and Kirby and I agree with you 100% it's funny in the best way?!

I mean, we have King Dedede, Meta Knight, and far worse last bosses than them who have come around as friends but this cloud... oooh, this cloud! It just HATES Kirby!

You'd think Whispy Woods would be in the same boat, or would hold claim to that title first, being the perennial first stage boss. But no, Whispy just seems kind of...cranky to be woken up or disturbed. And Whispy is fairly easily pacified - except when it decides to go all second form on you.

But Kracko is just...

You know, Kracko themselves is unusual in a variety of ways that makes the whole long-standing, one-sided grudge between Kirby and Kracko all that more interesting?

Like, Kracko Jrs can become full-fledged Krackos! Whatever a "full-fledged Kracko" even IS! And different Krackos can reform into new Krackos?! Or rather, OUR Kracko, while other Krackos, like Twin Kracko, are implied to share the memories of previous Krackos - enough to know that they feel anguish at their multiple losses?!

Are they a hive-mind? (*) Are they a species at all?!? And bopping back to the Whispy Woods thing, at least we can understand why Whispy attacks. They get woken up or otherwise disturbed.

But Kracko?! Kracko hates Kirby from the moment it laid eyes on our lovable pink puff! Who DOES that? (*) So the weird grudge Kracko has doesn't even seem to have an origin! It is LITERALLY that "woke up and chose violence" meme.

You know, I haven't really gone back and done much pondering on (Super) Kirby Clash since the big reveal from the Magolor Epilogue, but before then, I (like many others?) saw it as both an alternate universe and a sort of fairytale-esque retelling of Kirby's past! After all, there's Galacta Knight, only they are still considered a "hero" at this time and four Kirbys representing the four heroes of yore!

The reveal that it is one of many (!) possible dimensions just seems to expand Kracko's power. Because now Kracko(s) can be angry at Kirby from across different dimensions?!

...Gosh, could that have been where the grudge started? There was some original Kracko out there, a happy, peaceful cloud, and some Kirby from some other dimension, long in the past or otherwise did something horrible to Kracko and those memories are carried on each time Kracko reforms itself. The hatred and pain never going away. Tears recycled into water vapor, forming anew. Dreaming of the day it could have vengeance! The moment they meet again (?) on Bubbly Clouds in Dream Land 1 should have been the most important day of Kracko's life. But for Kirby... it was Tuesday.

(Sorry! I just love that meme!)

--

(*) But okay, the other thing I think we have to talk about with regards to Kracko is of course, the "Is Kracko related to Dark Matter?" question. It's crazy, right? 

Or is it? Again, there's the hive-mind thing. The weird "what kind of matter is Kracko even made of" question. The fact that it only has ONE eye and it spits out Waddle Doos as helpers. And Crystal Shards showed (a) Waddle Dee transform into a Waddle Doo when it got possessed by Dark Matter. That's not to say that Waddle Doos can't spawn naturally without the presence of Dark Matter. After all, Kracko makes them.

...But it would make a kind of sense of Kracko was able to do that because it had some connection to Dark Matter. Or another power. For as much of a mean jerk Kracko is, it actually has a very soft, sensitive looking eye.

It's a bit like Galactic Nova's eye. Sympathetic-ish looking. It's not the eye of a villain. Except that Kracko does occasionally spawn a more villainous looking, slit-pupil eye. Which reminds me...

I had my wild theory that Dark Nebula, the Master Crown, and Morpho Knight's sword were all elemental versions of the same power. But since Kracko has "the" eye, maybe they are the "wind" in this hypothetical 4/5 elemental grouping!

We know that Gooey is Dark Matter but isn't 100% similar to the others we've seen. Although to be fair, the 64 Dark Matters don't look 100% similar to Swordsman either, who is what we as the fandom consider the "typical" Dark Matter. But is he really? He disguised himself in a semi-humanoid form and had individual desires, so IS he normal? I was vaguely under the impression that the Dark Matters Zero sends at you are basically a "reset" Swordsman, but I might be wrong on that...

...Sorry, got off on a tangent.

Speaking of things half-remembered, isn't Kirby supposed to dislike rain? (Or was that from one of the Drama Tracks?) I have to assume at this point that is a subtle nod to Kracko, if it is indeed true at all.

I could believe it though, as despite the number of water-based stages in Kirby, there isn't really a "rainy" stage, is there? (Please feel free to jog my memory if I'm forgetting a really obvious one! Or a more obscure one! ^_- )

Another last minute thing I just thought of that's very funny about Kracko is we all know how Kirby feels about naps. Always taking them in the middle of the day. Dream Land is very snoozy, and sleeping under the clouds sounds ideal... except that there's a cloud out there specifically out to get Kirby! Doesn't that feel almost evil?! Is that why Kirby is so often napping under a tree? Is Kirby actually aware that Kracko seems out kill them ruin their day?!?

Anyway, good question! I welcome more thoughts about Kracko! Maybe they are just a cloud, but maybe... they're more??

[watercolor-hearts]

[Kinky shopping-talk]

Guys.

I'm in a Discord server and there's another cardiophile and Flavy (Esteban's girlfriend) posting her new(?) stethoscope in Instagram story brought up a bit of kinky talk about stethoscopes and pulse oximeters and manual blood pressure cuffs and cardiophilia and medical kink, and some people said that the pulse oximeter is really comfortable to wear and they really like it and it made me realize that it's probably the cheapest kinky device for a cardiophile and I still don't have it even though I discovered my cardiophilia in 2016 and have bought some stuff since then. So I was like okay, time to spend some money. 😃

And then someone talked about having a manual blood pressure cuff and actually knowing how to use it (Goddddd this is a so fucking sexy skill) and it made me realize that even though I have a thing for blood pressure measuring, I don't have a manual blood pressure cuff, only a digital. So it was time buy one of those, too.

These were the things I originally wanted.

But.

One the webshop I found these things there were other medical equipment, too, and Guys, I usually don't talk about the dark side of my cardiophilia but now I will a bit because I found something there that's a really, really old dream of mine and it was cheaper than I thought it'd be. (I never looked it up because I thought it was insanely expensive like most medical equipment.) I obviously added it to the cart because God, dream come true honestly. And it'll do no harm because I don't have the devide that'd make it work (and I don't even want it), plus I don't want to mess with my heart, I just want the sensation of those things. (I honestly don't know if it's a good idea to write the name of it here because dark cardiophilia is a really risky thing to talk about and I don't want anons about how disgusting I am.)

Another thing that's the cardiophile dream for me is the EKG. Especially the stickers on the chest but to be honest the whole EKG thing, hearing/seeing how different things affect the heart rate, things like that. But for some reason the stickers on the chest alone are so fucking aesthetic foe me... I thought I'd check if there were stickers and leads (because I know the monitor is insanely expensive so that's just not an option, obviously), and there were different types of stickers and suction cups and things like that and I almost bought some but I really needed the wires for it and those were really, really expensive (I was actually surprised at it), especially the 6-12 lead ones, so yeah, I couldn't buy it. It stays a dream. (But next time I might buy a 3-lead, that's still better than nothing.)

All of these are really nice and fun but after you pay for these things and get the confirmation email, you just sit there, realizing that you were shopping like you have someone to use these things with and you live in your own apartment/house so the sounds aren't a problem. But in reality you're single and you don't live alone so you can rarely use things that give sound. So yeah, this is the less pleasant side of kinky life. (And even if you have a partner, it doesn't guarantee that they'll engage in your kinky things (in a level you'd want them to.))

Sorry it turned sad-ish by the end. I'm still happy but I really wish I had a partner. 😃