#that gets messed around with but he has basically nothing else. he still has at least got ''intense skill'' as an excuse for his presence

[flower-boi16]

https://www.tumblr.com/flower-boi16/774678304341016576/i-thought-you-already-learnt-in-literacy-class

yeah, the issue isn't wanting the show to have a moral spelled out at the end or even that stol1tz is problematic.

the issue is that the show outright romanticizes its problematic ship - it isn't trying to be some character study of two messed up people without wanting the audience to come to any conclusions. It's blatantly obvious that the show is designed to make the audience think two things:

one: Stolas is only a tiny bit not really flawed and is basically the innocent wronged party in the relationship breakdown and 99% of the problems were caused by Blitzo and his insecurities and selfishness

and two: they actually want us to root for Stol1tz to work out.

and anyone who points out that they have no chemistry or that how Stolas started and continued the whole affair is textbook sexual extortion (something which the show has completely swept under the rug and refused to address) somehow gets accused of being a puritan or having low media literacy? even though critics are ones actually paying attention to the details that suggest stol1tz is a car crash waiting to happen and Stolas has been nothing but babied through the entirety of s2?? make it make sense

absolutely nothing about their duet in mastermind reads ironic, it's all terribly trite and sincere in expecting the audience to think their romance is tragic and moving. there's no reason to think the show is all that interested in exploring the dynamics of a messy relationship because the show outright refuses to meaningfully discuss the worst and messiest part of it except in passing i.e. the transactional deal. ffs, they spent all of apology tour calling Blitzo and Stolas "exes" when they never even dated. the show is outright rewriting its own history solely to avoid talking about the messy stuff because it would make Stolas look bad

also it's incredibly rich that people keep pulling out the "you just want a morality tale where you're told what to think, and that's bad writing!" card when this is literally what apology tour was. the show was outright screaming at the viewer to think that Stolas is the victim, that Blitzo is way worse than s1 had built him up to be and that Blitzo needed to apologize. the whole thing is structured around the moral of Blitzo needing to apologize and Verosika outright saying the point of the episode: "if you wanna change, say good for him (when he runs off to make out with someone else first chance he gets after claiming he loved you)"

I mean Blitzo basically says to the camera "the only reason I rejected Stolas was because the class difference made me insecure and I push away everyone who could care about me". it's incredibly blunt, garbage obvious storytelling

the writing isn't subtle at any other time (cough cough, Stella, cough) but suddenly when it comes fans asking why the writers aren't calling Stolas out for basically any of his shit suddenly the show is treated like some nuanced high art character drama where no one is allowed to openly discuss the sexual extortion shaped elephant in the room.

and it's blatantly not that. the closest helluva ever got to well done storytelling was in s1 and Viv flushed all that down the toilet the minute s2e1 happened

I still find it amazing how my post critisizing the fandom for not knowing what the actual critiques of the show are still holds up today. These are the kinds of fans that pretend that the highest amount of hard-hitting critique for Helluva and Hazbin comes from randos on tumblr when the critisicm these shows get extends far more than just tumblr. If anything, tumblr is less than a FRACTION of the people voicing their issues with the show.

And, if you actually payed attention to discourse surrounding the series on other platforms, mainly youtube....you would find people have far more nuanced critiques than "PROBLAMATIC = BAD!!!".

HELL, Sarcastic Chorus, one of the most popular Youtuers discussing the series, initially liked Stolitz BECAUSE of the problamatic elements, but he stopped carring for it because the show WASN'T ACTUALLY ADDRESSING THEM!!!!

But these fans focus more on trying to strawman critics rather than actually trying to meaningfully engauge with disscussion on the issues with the shows.

Because they can't handle people critisizing their favourite demon show.

[tropical-lazor-beams]

okay but honest to god the reason the king of town has taken the most notable dip in appearances outside of mocking his own character is because he was always a character with no decent relationships with others. i mean coach z had basically nothing to him outside of the accent & some sports things that didn’t last very long, but he’s got some relationships with marzipan & bubs that have given him room to stay. strong mad is & has been very similarly one-note to the kot but he’s got not only his relationship with sb & the cheat as a trio but his straightforward bond with the cheat on its own. they can appear together doing lots of things. meanwhile what has the kot got, the other members of the castle? if they had stuck with him being marzipan’s father that’d give him an excuse to have some kind of dynamic with her but as it stands he has got no relationship with a member of the main cast that isn’t just that other character’s default manner of interacting with someone else.

[demonic0angel]

DC x DP Prompt: Family dinner with the Fenton Family and the Waynes. Chaos ensues.

If looks could kill, Danny would’ve been killed a thousand times over, with his body cremated and his ashes thrown into the farthest volcano with salt then being tossed along the dirt afterwards.

Dan had never looked so vicious as he glared daggers at Danny, who was his eyes closed and his hands in front of him, like a prayer. However, he was definitely praying for patience because he had a dinner knife in one hand that Cass was trying to take back from him to no avail.

Dani had her arms wrapped around Tim’s, a wide grin on her face as she noisily snacked on the roast potatoes and watched the battle between Dan and Danny. Tim was trying to hold back a smile, but he pulled the bowl of potatoes closer to her. Kon, who was sitting on the other side of her and was invited by Tim, was also wide eyed and grinning, an arm wrapped around the both of their chairs when he leaned back.

Jazz just looked at Alfred and Bruce with a shameful look on her face and beading tears of embarrassment in her eyes as she muttered, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over again.

Jason was trying to soothe her and not-so-subtly motion Dick to step in and stop the fight while said man was staring at his boyfriend in horror, looking between both of the psychically fighting men with strange looks.

Damian had his head down, whispering to Stephanie and Duke who also had their heads ducked as they gossiped about the situation. Jon, who was sitting on Damian’s other side, was also leaning in and listening with a grin.

Bruce was just looking back and forth between Dan and Danny with wariness and confusion.

“… do you two know each other?”

“Know each other?” Danny said, looking up and finally opening his eyes. “Oh, we definitely know each other.”

Dan bristled at some invisible offense. Dick snapped back fo awareness and grabbed him, chuckling nervously as Dan growled.

Danny raised an eyebrow and sneered, continuing, “Yeah, I know him, alright.”

Dan suddenly grabbed a fork and threw it at Danny. It sank into the wall and pandemonium erupted as the Bats lunged backwards as Dan flew over the table to jump at Danny. However, Danny wasn’t going out without a fight because they immediately began punching and kicking with even some biting. Cass and Dick lunged forward to pull them apart while everyone else moved away.

Dani burst out laughing, but when Jazz burst into tears, that was when everything got even worse.

(I actually wanted to write something like this lmao.

If I continued this, it would be too long, but basically, Jazz has been on her last nerves for the entire day bc this is the first time she’s ever met her boyfriend’s family, and then SUDDENLY she finds out all of her siblings are dating people from the same family and then now her brothers are fighting bc none of them knew that they were dating a pair of siblings, and they thought they could finally get away from each other, and she’s both so embarrassed and so anxious that she started crying.

Immediately, it’s like a *record scratch*, the fighting stops and both Dan and Danny make up really, really fast to comfort their sister and then all of the Phantoms, including Dani bc she did nothing to stop the fight, help clean up the mess and the day actually gets better bc it becomes a bonding activity between the Fentons and the Bats. Jazz is still very embarrassed but it works out.)

[unintentionalseductress]

ok, so I'm really thirsty about the new quadbanner like everyone else, and I really don't know how to request this, but can you write something about Zayne's how he pulling down his zipper, telling us how it would be enough.. tysmm 😔

I think we've all been thirsty since the quad banner came out. I'm like what am I doing with my life, can it just be the 31st already 😩😩😩

Just The Tip

You're struggling. You loved being called a good girl but Zayne made it so hard to be worthy of receiving that praise. Even now. His instructions were simple. Lay naked on the bed and do nothing. No restraints, no punishments. He was trying to make it easy for you. But at the moment it felt like even the simplest things he was doing were making you dangerously close to snapping.

You'd lain there as he'd teased your nipples, working the little buds into aching peaks, and you'd gasped and tried not move as he'd gathered slick from your dripping core and stroked it onto your delicate, swollen, clit, his smoldering eyes darkening as you'd tried to control the building need rising within you. The promise of an orgasm hung in the air but you became careless; one tiny miscalculated action of bucking your hips, and Zayne had stopped, leaving you tingling and bereft.

You'd watched with desperate eyes as he circled around the bed, coming to a halt near your head, wearing a sexy smirk that sent a rush of arousal into your core. "Tch. You make it so hard to praise you, you know? I gave you the most basic of instructions. It appears lying still and doing nothing is too much to ask of you."

Devastated by his lack of approval, you give him your most rueful look, trying to appear apologetic, then whimper as he forcefully grasps your chin, his mouth covering yours as his tongue sensually enters. The wet slip of it against your tongue has you melting, becoming heady from the taste of him as your pussy throbs almost painfully from the lack of stimulation.

Withdrawing, he pushes away hair from your face, cupping your cheek almost tenderly. "Well since it appears you're doing the bare minimum, unfortunately, that's all I can give back to you."

You watch with wide eyes as Zayne opens the zipper of his slacks, and tugs them down along with his underwear, letting his cock spring free, thick and already swollen with arousal, a bead of precum visible in the slit. You almost groan at the sight, imagining how good it would feel to have him fuck you into the mattress, his hot meat stroking your slippery inner walls. You almost forgot that Zayne was not rewarding you at this moment.

He huffs, then positions himself between your spread legs. "Did you really think I was going to let you have all of this?" You let out a small gasp as you feel his tip breach your entrance, pushing in slowly, each minor inch moved making you feel like you might lose your sanity. You try to stay still, letting him do as he pleases, then let out a noise of disappointment as he withdraws. He repeats the process over and over until your arousal has dribbled onto the sheets, making an absolute mess, your mind in a sexual fog.

Zayne's tip is covered with your fluids that have leaked over his velvety column, and he prepares himself to enter again, and the pathetic look of helplessness on your face almost makes him laugh.

"What're you looking at me like that for hmm? Did you think you'd get more with your poor behavior?" He rests his tip halfway inside your canal and stops, feeling the hopeless little clenches of your walls on his cock, as though it eas trying to suck him in further.

"I think that's enough for now." Zayne pulls out completely and you give up, crying out in protest. He chuckles as your reaction before tucking himself back neatly into his pants, fixing his shirt and running his fingers thorough his barely disheveled hair. He offers his hand to you, and you take it, perplexed, and let him help you sit up.

"Get your clothes back on. Yvonne will help you make another appointment. Use that time to work on your discipline and maybe I'll reward that behavior."

© unintentionalseductress original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

[raerae2727]

When they blow up at you: multiple One Piece men x reader

You make them upset and they lose their temper + how they apologize

Includes: Ace, Kid, Law, Sanji, Crocodile, Doflamingo

GN! Reader, established relationship

Warnings: language, crocodile is neglectful and doffy is toxic, both reader and kid are lowkey toxic together, ace sanji and law’s parts are sweet tho💋

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Ace

He’s always pretty upbeat and tries not to show anger around you, but one day you make a joke that takes it too far. Your relationship had always been full of humor and you simply misunderstood what was acceptable to joke about and what wasn’t. You know you messed up when Ace goes quiet and puts his head down. You put your hand on his shoulder and frantically try to apologize, but he clearly isn’t having it as he stands and tries to walk away from you.

“Ace, wait! Listen!” You call as you try to pull him back, eager to explain yourself and properly apologize. He suddenly turns around and, in front of everyone, begins to lecture you.

“Why don’t you ever take anything seriously?”

Your guilt quickly turns to anger at the hypocrisy of Ace’s words. It always seemed to you that no joke was “too far” because of the way he so freely poked fun at you, your interests, and those you care about. How dare he pin this accusation on you?

“You’re the one who can’t take anything serious!” You respond, raising your voice louder than his.

He’s basically yelling when he responds, “At least I know where to draw the line!”

“What about all those times you made fun of me? Is it only an issue when I do it back?”

Everyone is staring at you two by this point, but all you can focus on is holding back tears when Ace yells, “I guess we just don’t go well together!” He slams his hand on the table, “Good luck finding someone else who’ll put up with you for as long as I have!”

Ashamed and heartbroken, you rush to your room and cry into your pillow. It feels like an eternity before you finally hear a knock on your door. You don’t respond but Ace opens it and lets himself in anyways, setting down his hat. He sits on the edge of your bed and breaks the silence with, “Good thing I stayed calm out there, right?”

Amazed that he still has the audacity to joke around, you sit up and scold, “Ace!”

He holds up his arms defensively. “Sorry, Sorry, I’m ready to talk about it if you are. And for the record, I love putting up with you.”

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Kid

Your relationship was always explosive because of your captain’s temper, but he must have already been on edge today because this was worse than usual. Killer wanted some rest so Kid is trying to make dinner for the crew, but he absolutely sucks at cooking. He refuses to listen to your advice and tension is growing as you continue to try and help.

“Stop being so controlling! I’m the captain here!”

The smell of burnt food is getting stronger, and you can’t help but take the pan off the burner yourself. “We’re hungry. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with just accepting help for once.” You try to keep your tone neutral to avoid a fight - which is clearly ineffective as Kid grabs you by the arm and pulls you outside of the kitchen.

“Why are you so set on embarrassing me in front of my crew!?” He shouts, gripping your shoulders.

You roll your eyes and speak calmly to make him feel like he’s overreacting. “It’s not that big of a deal. It would be more embarrassing if nobody was able to eat because your ego is too big to let me help.”

Kid is infamously bad with words, so he just responds by cursing and shoving you with much more force than intended. You go tumbling back until your head hits the wall and you fall to the floor. Kid looks shocked but before he can kneel down to help, you shoot up and shout, “What the fuck was that!?!”

“I don’t know!! Are you okay?” He yells back, panicked.

“No! I’m gonna tell Killer that you’re abusing me!” You scream, not realizing the whole ship can probably hear you two by now.

“No!” Kid responds fearfully, one-upping your volume and holding you in place by your shoulders again. “I swear I’ll always listen to you from now on! I promise! Please don’t tell on me, you know it was an accident!!”

Before you can scream back, the kitchen door swings open and you two stare at Killer like deer in headlights.

“Get in here and set the table. I knew you guys wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

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Law

Law always stretches himself too thin between working late, taking care of his crew, and making sure they don’t get themselves in too much trouble. He must have been losing a lot of sleep because of this, as he’s asking you to bring him his 4th cup of coffee today and it’s not even noon.

You tell him, “I don’t think I should do that, babe. I’m sorry. You should get some rest instead.” His under eye bags are especially dark today and his hair is messy.

“I have to get this done,” he responds calmly, though you can detect a hint of annoyance in his tone. “Can you at least get someone else to make it?”

When you go behind him and rub his shoulders, he sighs and leans back in his chair. He must be exhausted. “Please, babe?” He asks once more.

“Law, you of all people should know the importance of rest.”

He pulls away from your touch and crooks his neck to look in your eyes. “And you, of all people, should appreciate the work your captain does to keep this crew out of harm’s way.” He doesn’t yell, but the scolding tone of his voice hurts you more than yelling ever could. He stands up and walks to the kitchen, presumably to make his own coffee, and you follow behind. “Can’t you just give me some alone time for once?” He snaps.

You’re growing increasingly frustrated at Law’s stubborn attitude. “You need to rest! I’m not going to leave you alone when you’re putting your health at risk.”

“Sometimes,” he grabs you by the chin and leans in, “I have to make sacrifices for this crew. Be thankful.” You can’t help but start to tear up. His harsh words stung extra when he looked at you like that. Law lets go of you and his gaze softens when he realizes how upset he’s made you. The tone of the conversation immediately shifts. “Sorry, I-” he pauses, “I didn’t realize you cared that much.”

“Of course I care.” You cry. “I love you.” You pull him into a hug and he leans down to rest his chin on your shoulder.

“I’ll take a nap if you promise to stop crying.” He whispers, rubbing your back.

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Sanji

“Can you add a dash of salt to the soup, love?” Asks your boyfriend. He’s recently taken to including you while he cooks, which is an honor coming from someone who takes it so seriously. He’s gentle, patient, and excessively romantic with you in every aspect of the relationship, though sometimes finds himself being a bit more firm when cooking. You waltz across the kitchen, handing over him a knife, stirring a pot, or cleaning dishes for Sanji, whose hand finds your waist each time you pass. You dip your finger into the sauce he’s making and give it a taste.

“It’s good, maybe a bit bland though,” you comment.

“Noted, head chef,” he teases back playfully while accepting your criticism and adding more seasoning. When you go to take another taste, your elbow knocks over an inconveniently placed jar of olive oil, spilling it into the sauce and all over the counter.

“Shit! I’m sorry Sanji, I’ll clean it up.” He looks a bit disappointed, but gives you a soft smile and pat on the back.

“Don’t worry love, it happens,” his tone shifts to something more firm yet still gentle, “but we only have one jar left, so try to be a bit more careful for me in the future, yea?”

“It won’t happen again, promise.” Your mistake makes you shaky with nervousness because you know how seriously Sanji takes food waste. When you reach for a towel to clean up the oil, of course you accidentally knock over a pepper shaker. It falls to the ground and shatters, pepper corns bouncing all across the floor.

Panicked, you stutter out a pleading apology while you scramble to find a broom. “Oh my god babe, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I’m so clumsy to-”

“How about you just leave the cooking to me.”

You look up, surprised at his stern voice. He doesn’t look back at you, just grips the handle of his mixing spoon angrily. Your heart drops into your stomach in shame.

“Go find someone else to help me clean up this mess, okay?” You can tell he’s trying his absolute hardest to contain his disappointment, but it’s still evident in his tone. You silently leave the kitchen, embarrassed tears stinging your eyes.

You try to calm yourself down in your room before dinner, you don’t want any of your crew mates to know about your humiliating mistakes. Not even five minutes after you had left the kitchen though, your door swings open. Sanji is on his knees with a bouquet of flowers and big puppy dog eyes looking up at you.

“I have no words to describe how sorry I am for getting upset at you. My anger was a bigger mistake than any amount of spilled food.” Your emotions quickly turn upside down and you laugh at the dramatic display.

“Sanji! I should be the one apologizing!” You run up to him and pull him into a tight hug. You reassure him, “It’s okay to get frustrated sometimes. I’m not mad!” He lets out a relieved sigh and squeezes you tight.

Smelling the bouquet, you ask, “Where did you even get these?”

“I have a stash,” and you both burst into laughter.

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Crocodile

It seems like all he does is work, and you’re fed up with it. You get so bored sitting around in Crocodile’s mansion all day while he’s locked up in his office. Luckily, he left the door ajar today and you’ll be able to force him to give you the attention you deserve. You slink through the door and hoist yourself up onto the edge of his oversized desk.

“What.” He says gruffly, not looking up from his papers.

“I’m booored,” you whine, swinging your feet, “wanna go swimming?”

Crocodile sighs and rubs his temple in annoyance, still not looking up. “Go fetch me a drink and I’ll consider it.”

“No you won’t!” You argue, “you always say that!”

He slams a fist on the table and finally looks up to meet your eyes. “Maybe I would want to spend more time with you if you weren’t so whiny! Now go!”

You’re shocked and hurt by his unexpected anger and leave defeated, looking back one last time to see him continuing his work, seemingly unbothered.

Later that night, as you’re lying in bed reading, you hear the door softly creak open. Crocodile is holding an unopened expensive perfume with a ribbon tied around it.

“I know I haven’t had a lot of time for you lately, and I’m sorry.” He sighs, setting the gift on your nightstand and undoing his tie. “We’ll go swimming next week, I promise.” He places a gentle kiss on your forehead before getting into his robe.

As you drift off to sleep, you look at the various expensive gifts he’s gotten you as apologies, knowing he will never follow through with his promises.

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Doflamingo

Making Doflamingo angry is always the last thing you want to do, but his immature sense of entitlement can be infuriating. The two of you were watching the sunset by the poolside and discussing your latest reads while waiting on a servant to bring another bottle of wine. You didn’t notice how long it was taking until he brought it up.

“What’s taking that damn worm so long?” What’s so hard about fetching a bottle of wine?” The veins in his forehead started to bulge, a telltale sign of his annoyance.

You take his hand in yours and rub your thumb into his palm, trying desperately to keep him calm. “I’m sure it’ll be here soon, Doffy. Let’s not worry about it for now - keep telling me about your book.”

He could see right through you. Any attempt at influencing his emotions always only made it worse.

“Don’t baby me. This is an act of utter insolence and I don’t know why you expect me to tolerate it.” He slaps your hand away. “I’ll give that rat a piece of my mind once it gets here.” As much as you want to just leave it at that and enjoy the rest of your evening, your unrest with Doflamingo’s behavior has been growing for weeks and you speak before you can think.

“Can’t we just have one nice evening where you don’t have to abuse someone over the tiniest thing? It’s just some wine, we’ll live.” You’re terrified to see his frown turn into a wide grin as he starts to laugh.

“Have you forgotten who I am? Who you have the privilege of being close to?” With one sweep of his arm he knocks your glass off the table, shattering it and making you jump in fear. “Get out of my sight,” He hisses.

Offended by his quick switch-up, you bargain, “Doffy, can’t we just talk abou-”

“Out!” He yells. “And that’s Young Master to you!”

You scurry inside the palace, knowing things could get ugly if you chose to stick around. You wait all night for him to come knocking on your door with a superficial apology, even a passive aggressive one, but he never shows.

That petty man child was avoiding you. A whole week goes by before you even see his face. As you’re playing chess with Diamanté (who’s even more insufferable) to pass the time, you find yourself wishing you were with Doflamingo instead. As if on cue, he struts in and ruffles your hair from behind.

“What do you say we go share a drink together, just you and me, hm?” He muses, rubbing your shoulders as if he hadn’t just disappeared for a week. Your anger towards him subsides at his touch. You know you only feel this way because of his manipulative charm, but you let yourself love Doffy anyway.

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[httpiastri]

nsfw alphabet – ln4

author's note: this pretty much wrote itself, oh my god. hope you enjoy (and hoping for some good results this weekend!!)

nsfw content below !! minors dni !!!

a – aftercare (what he is like after sex)

after sex, lando craves having you near him. he needs his skin on yours, he needs to kiss you, he needs to hold you. it doesn't matter if he's just fucked you senseless, he still can't live on if he doesn't feel your body pressed up against him.

lando gets soft and mushy after sex, and especially if he's been in a certain type of mood; he just needs to make sure you're alright and that you understand that even if he got a little too into it, he's still your cute and sweet boyfriend. he thanks you for being there, he asks you if you're feeling good, and makes sure he wasn't too rough with you.

another thing about lando after sex is that he loves cockwarming. the first time you tried it was probably just because he was lazy, too tired to pull out, but after then it's so much more. again, it's that craving for your touch and what better way than to completely drown in you all night? he doesn't care if you're both sweaty or sticky or if your combined juices make a mess of the sheets. that's a problem for another day.

b – body part (his favorite body part of his and also his partner's body)

lando likes a lot of his own body parts for different reasons. his tongue because of the way he knows it makes you feel and because he's confident in his skills with it. he likes his hands, the size of them and the way they never fail to make your back arch off the bed (and because of how they look wrapped around your wrists, your legs, your waist, your neck...). he knows his neck makes you go crazy, and he'll think about you leaving a trail of lovebites down it whenever he does his neck exercises at the gym. but honestly, i think he just really likes all of his muscles, partly because of how defined they are and how good they look, but also a lot of it is because of how strong he is; he loves being able to hold your body down in bed, or hold you up in the shower, or throw you over his shoulder and toss you onto the bed.

i genuinely can't figure out if i think he's an ass guy or a boobs guy – i'm pretty sure he's both, and he's obsessed. it doesn't matter if you're petite or curvy or somewhere in between, he's pretty much gawking at you 24/7. if you're turned towards him, he's happy to have a view of your chest. if you've got your back turned against him, his eyes won't be leaving your gorgeous butt. his hands will be on them all the time, doesn't matter if you're out in public or home in your apartment. he needs to feel you, and nothing satisfies his needs as much as having his favorite body parts of his favorite person in his hands.

c – cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

oh he's good with anything. coming inside you, in your mouth, over your chest, doesn't matter. he finds it all so insanely hot. seeing you lick it up? he's dead. seeing you lick your own cum from his fingers after he's fingered you? even more dead.

d – dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of his)

lando loves a good photograph – and that definitely goes for pictures of you. you bet he's got a whole private folder on his phone of just pictures of you on top of his covers, hickeys adorning your skin... ass or breasts on full display... tied up to the bed frame or with one of his hands wrapped around your neck... of course, the two of you have had a serious conversation about it to make sure it's consensual, and he would never ever even think of showing anyone else, he's far too possessive for that. they're purely for his own enjoyment.

the only thing that makes him even more aroused than pictures of you is videos... he's a bit shy to bring it up but he would love to make some kind of softer sex tape one day. but for now, he'll settle for the short clips he has of himself slowly thrusting into you or you riding him.

e – experience (how experienced is he? does he know what he's doing?)

lando is experienced, no doubt. mostly with casual hookups, though, which i think influences his style. he definitely knows what he's doing, he knows every little secret about your body and what every touch will make you feel. he also surprises you with a new trick every once in a while that just blows your mind because how can he still impress you even after all this time? that's just lando.

f – favorite position (this goes without saying)

lando doesn't settle for just one position, he wants you every way all the time. he loves to switch positions mid-way through just to get another angle and another feel of you. plus, the bonus of getting to see different parts of you is great. doggy just to have his hands on your ass, cowgirl to get to see your breasts bounce... he doesn't really have a set favorite, anything that makes you both feel good is perfect for him.

g – goofy (is he more serious in the moment? is he humorous? etc.)

oh he can definitely be goofy with it. lando laughs at pretty much everything and that doesn't just go away in the bedroom. it's not overly frequent, like he doesn't just crack jokes out of nowhere, but he's a smiley dude. he's also very teenage boy-ish, which leads to a lot of laughter and funny situations.

h – hair (how well groomed is he? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

i don't think he cares too much, to be fair. he's tried shaving a couple of times just to see how it looks, but he's much too lazy to keep up with it. as long as you don't mind a lot, he will just let it grow however it wants.

i – intimacy (how is he during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he's intimate, sure, but not overly romantic i think. there are moments or certain occasions where he definitely is, though; he enjoys getting all romantic and fluffy for you every once in a while. but for him, most of the romance comes after it. the aftercare is where he'll show just how sweet and domestic he can be.

j – jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he used to love a good handjob, especially during a race weekend when he didn't have access to any girls and just needed to blow off some steam. but ever since he started getting with you, it's just not the same anymore... he misses your touch, the feeling of sinking into you, getting to hear your whiny breaths as he fucks you. he doesn't properly get off by himself unless he's watching a video of you or looking at a particularly suggestive picture you've sent him.

k – kink (one or more of his kinks)

i think lando definitely has a bulge kink. seeing your stomach move around when he thrusts into you makes him so weak. also, i'm sorry but he has a bit of a pregnancy kink, too. especially after spending days with baby relatives or just seeing kids around. it doesn't come out very often, but don't be surprised when he gets all "you'd look so good with my baby inside you" and "let's make that belly round and beautiful, hm?"...

l – location (favorite places to do the do)

i feel like the location doesn't matter a lot to him. bedroom, kitchen, living room, bathroom, the windowsill that any of his neighbors could look through any day... having someone watch you two doesn't matter to him; he just feels like a generous boy for giving them a treat.

he isn't shy to get it on in public, either. obviously, behind closed doors is a must, but if he gets particularly horny at a friend's party? then the bathroom seems like a good place to spend some time. he isn't shy to play a little with you in public either, his hand on your thigh underneath the table at the club slowly but surely inching up... and giving you a few teasing strokes until you're begging for him to just take you home...

one of his weaknesses is swimming pool sex. as long as there's no one else in the pool, it doesn't matter if there are friends nearby (if it's a pool party, etc.); he just loves the feeling of the water around you and how easy it is to slip into you.

don't know where else to put this than here, but i think it's very important to add that lando does not care at all who else is near when you're around and he's in a mood. pda is his middle name, and his hands will be on you at all times. holding your hand, wrapping an arm around your waist, a hand on your ass...

if you're at a party, lando will be upset if you choose a seat that isn't his lap. having you straddle his thighs or sitting sideways in his lap is his biggest wish, and he feels like the world's luckiest man whenever you give him the pleasure of doing it. he also loves it because it means he can make sure you're not off talking to some creepy dude, and that everyone sees who you belong to. lando is very possessive and this is the perfect way to keep his possessiveness in check.

m – motivation (what turns him on, gets him going)

honestly, it's not hard at all to rile lando up. he can and wants to get with you at all times. but drunk lando = extra horny lando. never is lando as frisky as when he's downed a few drinks (or half a champagne bottle on the podium). his hands will be on you constantly.

whenever you wear anything that shows off your cleavage, he's done. his brain will short circuit.

as i've covered before, and will cover again, lando is possessive, but also quite easily jealous. seeing you with some other dude makes him really easily riled up. it's not that he likes it – he hates the thought of you actually being with another man – but just a little teasing never hurt anyone. he's too confident in himself and he knows that you love him and only him, that even when he sees you flirt with someone else, it doesn't upset him because he understands that it's all just a game.

n – no (something he wouldn't do, turn-offs)

lando doesn't like to share you. he thinks it's cool that you flirt with other men, but if you were to ever cross the line and actually do something with another man, he would be so mad (and not in a good way-). he could possibly be up for a threesome if you really want to, but he needs to be there and he will be watching over the other guy with so much suspicion. he would want to make sure that you're enjoying everything he's doing much more than the other dude, and to be fair it would pretty much eventually turn out to be just regular sex between the two of you with the other man just not being involved.

o – oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he loves both of them. he's a messy giver, hastily licks and just eating you out like a starved man. he loves the taste of you – he swears it's one of his favorite things in the world – and he will just never get sick of it. he can go over and over, a million rounds, until he has you completely ruined underneath him; legs trembling, eyes rolled back, brain empty of thoughts.

your blow jobs, though, are like god's gift to him. he would never force you to give him them, but oh does he think about them about 24/7. unless you're completely oblivious, you'll understand quite quickly how much he enjoys them. and why would you not want to please him and make him as happy as he wants? he gets completely lost in the feeling, his hands tangling in your hair and fingers pulling on it, guiding you up and down... and he just can't hold back from thrusting ever so slightly into it. you're just too good – and you bet he'll praise you for it.

p – pace (is he fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

i think this can vary a bit, actually. fast and rough sometimes, slow but deep and hard other times. it's not often that he's on the sensual side, though it does happen every once in a while. but you bet he's going to pour all of his energy into it and make it real hot and needy, no matter the pace.

q – quickie (his opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he definitely likes a good old quickie! you've both gotten quite used to them, especially during race weekends when you have a tight schedule. if you're really really tight on time, a quick blowjob does the job, too.

r – risk (is he game to experiment? does he take risks? etc.)

definitely. he loves trying new things to spice things up, and he's not shy to experiment and take a risk that maybe not everyone else would. he would adore having a partner who's as open to experimenting as he is, it would just make him feel so free and non-judged. if you get to see lando in his fully comfortable state, you'll definitely find him suggesting all kinds of things.

s – stamina (how many rounds can he go for? how long does he last?)

lando is obsessed with you, so nothing can tire him out. he can last forever (or, at least so he thinks).

t – toys (does he own toys? does he use them? on a partner or himself?)

as we've talked about already, lando is up for anything. bring up any kind of toys and he's sold. he's also really curious about how you please yourself when he's away, so you bet he will love watching you get off without him helping you out.

u – unfair (how much he likes to tease)

lando is definitely a big tease. pressing pecks all over your body except for where you really need and want him, fingers stroking up and down your sides a little too lightly for your taste; leaning back when you lean in to kiss him, pressing a finger to your lips with a silly grin on his lips; pulling out of you just as you're about to reach your climax, tilting his head and letting out a little "oh? you wanted to come? sorry, baby. you'll have to beg for it"....

this also happens, maybe even more, when you're in public. he doesn't care who's around; he knows you get a little extra tense and that you're easier to work up when you don't want anyone to know what lando is doing to you. his specialty is kneeling down and pretending to tie your shoelace or brush away some dirt from your heels, and when no one is looking, he makes sure to press a short trail of kisses right above your knee and up the inside of your thigh. it makes you react with the same wide eyes and speechlessness every time, and he loves it. almost as much as he loves seeing your friends ask you what's wrong.

v – volume (how loud he is, what sounds he makes, etc.)

lando is not scared of being loud, he's very very vocal during sex. he loves to moan, seeing it as a way to let you know how good he thinks you feel. he's the type to moan and groan even when he's the one doing the work; just watching your juices drip out of you brings a warm sensation to his chest because he's the one who did that. you react like that to him and only him.

he also loves to talk you through it. a lot of guiding, even though you already know what to do, and a lot of praise.

w – wild card (a random headcanon)

one thing lando thinks is the maybe hottest thing you can do is pull on his chains when he's wearing them... just yanking him towards you so that you can press your lips to his, it has him dead in seconds.

he also has a thing for seeing you wear necklaces or chains (esp his chains) because it reminds him of this other type of necklace that he loves seeing around your throat much more...

x – x-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

he's a big boy for sure. thickness is his strongest suit but he's got some good length too.

y – yearning (how high is his sex drive?)

as i've said before, lando is obsessed with you, so he could have sex with you anytime anywhere. there's not going to be a time where he doesn't want to have sex with you.

z – zzz (how quickly he falls asleep afterward)

i think it depends. if you've been at it for a while and he's very energetically drained, he'll be quick to fall asleep. but in some other cases, it takes him a long while to mentally calm down from his high and actually relax his mind. he'll be all pumped up.

[hyuuukais]

heyllo :3

can i request reader x chan? reader is overwhelmed but keeps it in because that’s what they see chan doing a lot of the time. but eventually it builds to a breaking point where the stress causes them to completely shut down. chan doesn’t know exactly what’s wrong so it might be cute if he just sits on the floor in front of reader and plays clips from a song he’s working on and asks for their opinion (by basically talking out loud to himself) and then after reader calms down they are able to verbalize they just need a human weighted blanket and to be told they are doing amazing and their efforts are not going unnoticed.

im fine. 🥲

just hold me, tell me you love me

pairing : chan x reader

notes : me vs the long title. anyway thank uuu for being my first request! i hope this lives up to ur expectations and can provide u some comfort 🫶 sending u hugs and love 🫂💙 sorry it's taken a bit long to get back to! kind of was getting this feeling myself and have been unable to write, but i think i'm getting back

warnings : reader is overwhelmed, mentions of anxiety, fear of opening up to someone, reader is called pet names (love, baby), reader breaks down

wc : 1.4k

All week there's been a growing pressure in your chest threatening to spill all over the floor and leave you a mess, lying on the ground with nothing else to give. Give, you've given all you can, and now that you're home, you can't do it anymore. You seek peace in the quiet of your shared bedroom, your boyfriend still at work in his studio.

Your boyfriend, who works hard day and night. Your boyfriend, who's loving and caring and sweet. Your boyfriend, who you're scared to open up to when things get really hard, because he doesn't share with you either. Although the relationship isn't fresh, going on a year and a half, there are still things you don't talk about. You don't want to burden him with your struggles when you've always been able to power through by yourself.

Fisting the sheets under you, you can feel the need to cry in your body, the hollow feeling in your chest and the tightness in your throat, but nothing comes. It's like your body knows you're too tired for even that simple of an action, for even one tear to slip. So instead, you sit the the blanket over you, face peeking out to stare at the wall with tired eyes. You can't sleep. If you close your eyes, you know you won't drift off and wake up feeling better, you'll just lie there for hours.

"Baby?"

Something spikes in you when you hear Chans voice ring out through the apartment, curling into yourself more. He shouldn't be home this early and yet, here he is, calling your name and wondering where you are; you're never in bed this early. Chan continues to call out for you until you hear the bedroom door opening quietly.

"Love?" Chans footsteps get closer, and you can feel the edge of the bed dip with his weight as he sits down. "My love..."

His hand brushes over your shoulder, but you can't face him. When you bring the blanket over your head more, he seems to get the hint, shifting to lean against the headboard next to the statue that is your body, unmoving and heavy. You can feel him fiddling beside you, and soon, a soft melody fills your ears. It's enough to distract you temporarily from the raging storm in your head, focusing on the beats, and when Chans voice comes through, it's like you can feel a sense of comfort washing over you. Although it's not enough to completely take these feelings away, you're grateful for what he's doing.

"This song has been giving me trouble," Chan comments over the music, sighing heavily. "I can't figure out if I like the chorus or not, and it feels like it's missing something in general, but I don't know what. What do you think, baby?"

Unable to answer verbally, but still wanting him to know you're listening, you roll around so you're facing him. He chuckles as you bury your face under his thigh when you see he's sitting cross-legged, the pressure on your face oddly comforting. Chan places a hand on your back, his arm resting behind your head as he rubs small circles over your thick layer of blanket. Another song starts playing after a while, another soft one, too. You relax under his touch, feeling the vibrations through his body as he hums along to this one and makes occasional comments about changes he'd like to make.

Exhaustion hits you like a ton of bricks, your eyes fluttering shut as he keep playing different songs and telling you all about them. Both of you are aware that he shouldn't be playing so much unreleased music, but all Chan cares about in this moment is you, helping you, calming you, loving you. The company will never know anyway.

"Chan," You whisper, voice barely audible. His humming stops and he pauses the music, looking down at your limp form with furrowed brows. Moving your head slightly, you're able to look up at him on an angle, the cool air of the bedroom breaching your blanket cocoon.

"What is it, baby?" Chan moves some hair from your face, leaving this palm to rest on your cheek.

"Can you just-" You clear your throat, one hand coming up to play with the hem of his shorts at his knee to calm you more. "Just hold me, tell me you love me?"

Without words, he shifts down to your level and nods. Carefully, Chan guides you to face away from him and brings you close to his body, your back pressed tightly against his chest. His chin rests on your shoulder, now enveloped inside your blanket as he holds onto you tightly, scared that if he let's go, you'll fade away. The thought of you being in so much pain, whether physical or emotional, is something he can't bear; he can't sit on the sidelines and watch you wither away. Neither of you speak as you lie there for what feels like hours, although it must only be a few minutes. The feeling of Chan's breath on your neck is oddly comforting, your own hands finding his arm around your waist and holding onto him.

Something about the way Chan is holding you, comforting you without the pressure of being asked what's wrong, has you finally breaking down. It starts small, holding back a few tears, but a few escaping despite your efforts. Then Chan shifts closer, pressing soft lips on the skin behind your ear.

"I love you, you know that? So, so much," He whispers, inhaling the scent of your shampoo as he buries his face into your hair. "You're doing amazing, baby, and I mean that. I thought... I thought something might have been wrong, but I didn't know how to go about this. I'm sorry it got to this point, I should have asked. I want you to know you can always turn to me, okay?"

His words have the dam breaking and soon enough, the sobs ripping from your chest have you gasping and hiccupping like there's no tomorrow. You don't register the way Chan tries to soothe you as he pulls you around and into his chest. Subconsciously, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and roll his body onto yours, his head sitting in the crook of your neck. The weight feels nice, grounding, and you can finally hear Chan speaking again.

"Shhh, it's okay, you're okay." Chan whispers into the skin of your neck, one of his hands smoothing back your hair. "You're okay, I'm here, now breathe, alright? Breathe, baby."

He inhales deeply, and you do your best to mimic his movements. It's shaky, but you're doing it.

"Good job, you're doing great," Chan keeps his voice low as he speaks. "Keep breathing."

It gets to the point where you don't need to think about breathing anymore, your head throbbing slightly from the sudden outburst of emotion. Chan's body stays on yours, but he props himself up enough to look at you, his palm on your cheek and his thumb wiping away any remaining tears. You can barely look him in the eye.

All he does is stare at you with those pretty, dark eyes, but you realize there's a dampness under them matching yours. You open your mouth to question it, but he shakes his head, a soft smile on his face.

"I don't want you to be in pain alone ever again." His thumb continues to caress your cheek, even though the tears have dried. "I love you too much to let you go through that. Whatever's going on, tell me when you're ready, yeah? For now, just let me gush about my beautiful partner until they're feeling better."

You can't help the small laugh that escapes you as Chan surges up to pepper your face in kisses, saying praises in between each one. With every kiss, you can feel your face heating up until you try and cover it, but he just grabs your wrists and pulls your hands away. Eventually, he slows down, pressing one last kiss directly on your lips, and settles back onto you.

"Let's stay like this for a while," Chan suggests, knowing you need it, but so does he. "My favourite place is in your arms."

-

─── taglist : @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @staysinbloom

[muletia]

guys... please let me cook... and hear me out on this...

obsessed!megop x reader

but not in a 'we're rivals fighting for the love of our lives' or 'sharing our darling' way — more like 'after the messiest divorce in the universe, we got back together, but now YOU are entering this relationship with us'. basically, a poly relationship sprinkled with insanity and horniness

very incoherent and loose headcannons word count: 1100 18+ content at the end (nothing detailed tho)

Let’s assume Megatron and Optimus sort things out. After eons of brutal fighting, they go back to their roots—being with each other, not against each other. They find common ground in their conflict, reaching a compromise between ideologies. Maybe it’s when you entered their lives, and their intense feelings for you began to overlap, eventually aligning on the same wavelength. They realized they could allow themselves a fresh, better start. Build a relationship anew, this time on sturdier foundations. Escape the trap of repeating the same moves— ones that only slowed their rival down rather than destroying him outright. In this case, you’re the catalyst for peace, the olive branch that reconciled two warring factions, all while bringing an end to the longest, most toxic divorce trial in the universe.

When there’s a breakthrough in their relationship, the tangled mess of emotions—hatred, longing, and fervor—slowly begins to untangle. That’s when they disappear from your life for a while. From everyone’s daily life, really. Megatron no longer sat brooding on the Nemesis, scheming your next abduction, and Optimus never returned to base after announcing he was going to "clear his mind." They vanished like stones dropped in water. Zero contact. Not even Soundwave could locate his master. The Autobots were just as clueless.

For you, this situation seemed perfect—you could finally start living a normal life. No more getting kidnapped at 3 a.m., no more being stuck under house arrest at the Autobot base. No more deranged warlord holding you on his lap, promising passionate fantasies that could never come true as long as his rival kept a protective watch over you. And no more overprotective Autobot leader spending hours parked in your driveway. You were free. For about a month.

Ratchet is the first to inform you. After weeks of complete radio silence, they finally managed to locate Optimus. And despite the routine drama of abductions and rescues, you couldn’t help but feel happy. And relieved. Because you missed him, even if you were exhausted by his antics. Maybe you even missed Megatron a little... Despite his madness, he could be charming and intriguing, at least. And everything was going great, just fine—until Ratchet informed you that Optimus was at your house. And he wasn’t alone.

From that point on, you became entangled in their fledgling, turbulent relationship. Passionate, yet resembling a ticking time bomb. Still unexplored. And the funniest part of it all? You were living a much better life than before, even though you were the only sane person in this relationship.

They’ve infected each other with their mania, directing it toward each other whenever you’re not around. It’s especially convenient for you because now Megatron has someone else to fixate on when he feels possessive or craves physical contact. He can take it out on Optimus, who also acts as a brake on his partner’s urges when they get too overwhelming when the need for touch prickles at his claws. No more abductions and schemes—now he can vent on Optimus. That doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, though. When you come home from work, both of them are eagerly ready to show you just how much they’ve missed you.

They quickly find a way to insert themselves into your home. To have a space that’s yours, where they know you’ll always return—and they take full advantage of it. You come back from work, and they’re already there. You’re just taking off your shoes, and you can already feel warm claws brushing against your exposed neck, followed by gentler servos caressing your cheek. Megatron wastes no time, pressing his sharp dentae to your bare skin. Optimus, ever the considerate one, asks how your day was and reminds his partner that you deserve at least a minute to relax. A brake. You go to prepare dinner, and behind you, there’s the subtle sound of metal tapping against metal and an even quieter, low moan...

With two Cerberuses at your side, you’re practically untouchable. And while Optimus doesn’t go beyond stern verbal warnings or intimidation by size, Megatron is ready to demolish your boss’s house if he dares make a snide remark at you. This dynamic also shows when you’re around the Autobots (it took them a long time to accept the new reality, by the way). One sassy comment from Arcee, and your protector is ready to return to the warpath to defend your honor. There are even times when Optimus fiercely defends his partner when someone on his team doubts Megatron’s reformation.

Even though they have each other now, content with their companionship and finally feeling fulfilled, they still can’t stop talking about you. Declarations of the passion they feel for one another almost always transform into monologues about you—about their longing, the softness they associate with you, the belief that if you were with them right now, they’d feel that sense of completeness again. Wholeness. Fulfillment. Harmony. Caught up in each other, but still aching with longing for their human. Their beloved. Without you, they’re like planets without a sun—lost, unproductive. They need you to function on a basic level. The three of you are inseparable.

The end of the war means more free time. Both of them are now unemployed, so all their attention shifts to nurturing your relationship. Including in the bedroom... Suppressing their feelings for so many years, burying them deep in their sparks even as they fiercely clawed for freedom, they’re surely brimming with frustration—frustration that spills into their most intimate, primal needs. They infect you with their fever, proving just how unbearably they’ve missed you and how deeply the desire to have you has consumed them. How it’s burrowed into their processors, taking over their lives, manipulating every choice and decision.

Some days, they can’t wait. The conversation about you goes on too long, dives into too intense, too intimate territory, mocking their self-control and teasing hidden components. Sometimes they climax, chanting your name, even when you’re not around. Sometimes you witness their "games." You don’t intervene, yet have full control. Watching with your own eyes just how utterly dependent they are on you, how they can’t release without your approval.

If having one titan in love with an ordinary mortal wasn’t already an empowering feeling, now you have two, completely at your mercy. Both burning with their own desire and all the tools needed to relieve it—yet it is your word that is final.

try not to develop a god complex challenge, lmao

[gibberishfangirl]

Hello! I'd like to request Bofurin (and anyone else if you'd like) with reader who's very feminine

Pink dresses, bows everywhere, sunshine energy.. You get it

WIND BREAKER | dating the coquette girly

Synopsis ✰ head cannons of the boys dating a girly coquette sunshine girl who is aesthetically pleasing

Characters ✰ Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Hayato Suo, Akihiko Nirei, Mitsuki Kiryu, Toma Higari, Jo Togame, Choji Tomiyama

Contains ✰ sfw! boys being mesmerized, cute content of them admiring your style

★ a/n <3 : I LOVE THIS. i love all my cute girly girls out there. i envisioned a coquette aesthetic/style when i first saw your request so i ran with it! hope you don’t mind and this is what you were also thinking <3 ★

Haruka Sakura ᡣ𐭩

𝜗𝜚 your style makes him more bashful

𝜗𝜚 he’s very protective over you

𝜗𝜚 fights off any creeps whose eyes linger on you for too long

𝜗𝜚 “stop staring, it’s creepy.”

𝜗𝜚 loves how nice, gentle, and optimistic you are

𝜗𝜚 you’re the only person he has photos of saved onto his phone

𝜗𝜚 blushes and stares at his phone for hours whenever you send him selfies

𝜗𝜚 “what are you looking at Sakura?” “nothing!”

𝜗𝜚 such a shy blushing mess whenever you happen to wear sundresses or short skirts

𝜗𝜚 on guard 24/7 wanting to make sure no one else is looking at you inappropriately

𝜗𝜚 his favorite season quickly becomes spring since it reminds him of you

𝜗𝜚 secretly loves whenever you take his phone and snap cute selfies of yourself (he constantly has a new wallpaper because of this)

𝜗𝜚 100% gets teased by his friends for having so many photos of you

Hajime Umemiya ᡣ𐭩

𝜗𝜚 matches your energy perfectlyy

𝜗𝜚 you two bounce off each other so well

𝜗𝜚 loves how cute you are

𝜗𝜚 literally plants flowers that remind him of you

𝜗𝜚 loves to take pics of you with his plants (hello?? pics of his favorite things on earth together? consider him obsessed)

𝜗𝜚 he’s obsessed with you

𝜗𝜚 loves to show all the cute photos he has of you to his friends

𝜗𝜚 bro is literally kicking his feet and giggling over you

𝜗𝜚 his mood instantly gets better with you around

𝜗𝜚 is even happier once he finds out you and Kotoha get along

𝜗𝜚 strongly convinced that he will marry you in the future

𝜗𝜚 tempted to propose now

𝜗𝜚 loves to watch you get ready and do cute hairstyles on yourself

𝜗𝜚 learns how to do ponytails so he can help you with your little half up half down pigtail hair-do’s (hopefully i made that make sense LOL sorry if i didn’t)

𝜗𝜚 you can practically see heart shapes in his eyes whenever he looks at you

Hayato Suo ᡣ𐭩

𝜗𝜚 fell in love at first sight

𝜗𝜚 he was star struck when he first saw you

𝜗𝜚 you’re literally his ideal type

𝜗𝜚 loves how pleasing you are to look at and be around

𝜗𝜚 has a hard time believing you’re real

𝜗𝜚 100000% will let you put bows in his hair

𝜗𝜚 keeps a close eye on you since he doesn’t want you to get bothered by anyone

𝜗𝜚 takes you on the cutest dates ever

𝜗𝜚 takes the cutest pics of you during your dates

𝜗𝜚 will ask you to send him selfies everyday

𝜗𝜚 his social media accounts are basically fan accounts of you

𝜗𝜚 sweetest couple alive

𝜗𝜚 your gentle energy matches well with his

𝜗𝜚 is slightly taken back by how genuine you are (in a good way)

𝜗𝜚 has the urge to protect you from the world

𝜗𝜚 constantly thinks about how lucky he was to cross paths with you and be your boyfriend

Akihiko Nirei ᡣ𐭩

𝜗𝜚 being the fashionista he is, he loves your outfits

𝜗𝜚 is in love with the aesthetic and totally gets the picture

𝜗𝜚 will help you plan out your outfits on facetime

𝜗𝜚 still can’t fathom why someone like you would choose someone like him

𝜗𝜚 feels lucky you to have you and never takes you for granted

𝜗𝜚 he always assumed someone as cute as you would go for a guy more like Suo or Kiryu, so he feels special that you wanted him

𝜗𝜚 loves to go shopping with you

𝜗𝜚 buys any cute item he sees because it reminds him of you

𝜗𝜚 expect him to gift you tons of things due to that

𝜗𝜚 “here i got you this because it made me think of you!” (CUTEST BOY)

𝜗𝜚 will always defend you if anyone says anything

𝜗𝜚 literally becomes your personal photographer

𝜗𝜚 you guys are such couple goals on social media

𝜗𝜚 blushes whenever you’re very caring towards him

𝜗𝜚 you help boost his confidence since you always have so many positive things to say about him

Mitsuki Kiryu ᡣ𐭩

𝜗𝜚 have you seen this man? he lovesss your style

𝜗𝜚 thinks you’re the most precious thing to ever exist

𝜗𝜚 he loves to hold your hand in public and show you off

𝜗𝜚 spends most of his day resting his cheek on his hand while admiring your cuteness

𝜗𝜚 will match with you if you ask

𝜗𝜚 will twirl you around so he can watch your cute dresses/skirts flow in the air

𝜗𝜚 brags about how cute his girlfriend is to others

𝜗𝜚 compliments you whenever he has the chance

𝜗𝜚 takes so many pictures of you

𝜗𝜚 his phone screen is definitely a photo of you dressed up all cute in a field of flowers

𝜗𝜚 loves to fix up the bows in your hair

𝜗𝜚 won’t mind if you ever ask to put a bow on him

𝜗𝜚 both you share love for the color pink

𝜗𝜚 loves it when you sit on his lap during hang outs so everyone knows your his

𝜗𝜚 of course no one is surprised to find out how adorable Kiryu’s girlfriend is

Toma Higari ᡣ𐭩

𝜗𝜚 he’s very shy about how polar opposites you two look

𝜗𝜚 no one really saw you two coming

𝜗𝜚 you’re like a breath of fresh air to him

𝜗𝜚 loves how peaceful you are in comparison to his chaotic lifestyle

𝜗𝜚 you live in bliss as your boyfriend practically scares off anyone from messing with you

𝜗𝜚 feels refreshed being around you

𝜗𝜚 seriously you’re like a glass of cool water on a hot day to him that’s how much you affect him

𝜗𝜚 loves how caring you are about him and those around you

𝜗𝜚 your hopeful attitude rubs off on him after hanging out with you consistently

𝜗𝜚 definitely has a problem with anyone who makes any weird or sly comments about you or your relationship with him

𝜗𝜚 has no problem defending you in any case

𝜗𝜚 gets very flustered by your wardrobe choices at times

𝜗𝜚 might want you to change sometimes if your skirt is too short

𝜗𝜚 will consider beating up any guy who looks at you

Jo Togame ᡣ𐭩

𝜗𝜚 he’s a sly dog

𝜗𝜚 100% checks you out when you’re not looking (hell, he’s doing that even if you’re looking)

𝜗𝜚 loves how dainty and delicate you look in comparison to him

𝜗𝜚 he’s all over you 24/7 even if it’s just casually hugging you from behind

𝜗𝜚 definitely makes sure everyone knows your his girl

𝜗𝜚 very protective over you

𝜗𝜚 won’t be afraid to check anyone if they’re being inappropriate towards you

𝜗𝜚 finds you very sweet for being so nice to him and being very considerate of him

𝜗𝜚 ruins your outfits by making you wear his jacket over them

𝜗𝜚 he thinks his jacket makes you look cuter with the way it swallows you

𝜗𝜚 makes you wear his jacket because it shows to others you’re his and it makes people back off

𝜗𝜚 encourages your clothing choices

𝜗𝜚 “wear whatever you want, i can fight.” (HEAVY ON THIS ENERGY)

Choji Tomiyama ᡣ𐭩

𝜗𝜚 has the same “wear whatever you want, i can fight.” energy

𝜗𝜚 be careful, he will literally beat anyone into a pulp if they look at you funny, talk about you vulgarly, hits on you, etc. all he needs is just one reason

𝜗𝜚 he doesn’t really understand fashion but thinks you’re beautiful

𝜗𝜚 loves how confident you are and how you know exactly who you are

𝜗𝜚 admires how much effort you put into getting ready

𝜗𝜚 always wants to take you out to lunch, dinner, the movies, anywhere he can just so he can see what new cute outfits you can come up with

𝜗𝜚 compliments you 24/7

𝜗𝜚 will ask you to put your hair accessories on him

𝜗𝜚 definitely the dresses up gf and dresses down bf couple

𝜗𝜚 he actually likes how much you stick out when you’re next to him

𝜗𝜚 always wants to suffocate you in hugs after he sees how adorable you look that day

𝜗𝜚 two peas in a pod

𝜗𝜚 you both radiate the same energy at times

𝜗𝜚 you help him stay at a happy place, if he ever feels himself feeling sad again you’re always there to grab his hand and pull him right out <3

[norikuna]

r/AsksReddit | Help! I think I accidentally summoned the King of Curses ! ⌦ part one of ?

💬 hi reddit, i know this sounds fake but i swear on my life it's true. i was just messing around with this prank book my friends got me last christmas and it had some 'ancient' summoning spells in it. i didn't even think it would work but there's a 7ft demon looking guy sitting on my couch and i don't know how to get rid of him.

Sorry, this post has been removed by moderators of r/AsksReddit. MOD: Please ask real and serious questions, thank you.

💬 update! the mods removed my post but i'm genuinely telling the truth here. anyway, it turns out that by summoning him, i think i bound us together for eternity. sukuna (that's his name) isn't that bad and he's kinda like a big, lazy cat.

u/9to5exorcist : Ryomen Sukuna? Are you quite sure? u/tenshadowsanimalcrossing : You're joking, no way u summoned sukuna lmfao. u/you : not joking! i took him grocery shopping today! u/SixEyesSensei : dm me asap!!!! please!!!!!!!!!!!!!

inspired by @kasukuna and the most amazing dumbass boyfriend!sukuna fics 🤎

absolutely refuses to use your furniture properly. sukuna insults your apartment for at least 2 whole days and calls it a sad, little domain. he has no idea what paying rent is like in this economy. lounges across the couch with all four arms spread, sits on the kitchen counters, and insists on rearranging your entire living room spread so he can move around it easier.

now you're constantly sleep deprived by having this deadbeat, massive behemoth of an awful flatmate. sukuna keeps telling you that he's a medieval sorcerer, someone who flattened entire clans and mountains but it's hard to take him seriously when he keeps hitting his head on your low ceilings. he's always so loud around the apartment, complaining about how boring it is for him to be stuck and bound to you forever. if you're a university student or just someone who's employed, he thinks he's being helpful by offering to curse your professors/employees.

you have to beg him to get some real clothes. you're slowly getting used to the anatomically strange sight of a 7ft man with four arms, but you know that others are going to call the police. he's usually wondering around your apartment and loitering in his loose, wide pants. nothing else, not even a shirt. occasionally sukuna will drape a cloak around his torso but you have to basically wrestle a baggy shirt over his head. and he bites you, at least thrice.

refuses to help clean, and claims he's very much above menial labour. one day, you threaten to leave sukuna hungry if he doesn't contribute for at least five minutes. he begrudgingly starts picking up after himself, but not before bestowing you with the ugliest death threats of all time.

sukuna is the very definition of a lazy freeloader. well, you told him to be useful and get a job, but then the idea of him causing more problems and insurance paperwork later made you break out in a cold sweat. so he usually spends his hours just loitering around your apartment, and draining your resources. never puts dishes in the sink and still doesn't grasp the concept of a fridge so he's always leaving the door open.

but he is very curious about modern day life. seems like the world has really moved ahead in the one thousand years that sukuna hasn't walked the earth. asks a million questions about wifi, the internet, a phone, streaming services and so on. he will be the last to admit it but he loves trashy reality television, and he enjoys watching 'pathetic humans squabbling over pathetic things'. has an ugly, evil-ass laugh that wakes up your neighbours at 3am.

after weeks of being cooped up in your apartment, he starts complaining. loudly. stomping around and getting even nastier, to the point where you have to give in. he tells you that he is no house pet, and if you don't let him outside, he will go anyway and have his own fun. god help you, sukuna's idea of fun in the big city will involve blood and destruction so you relent and prep him with a million rules that he ignores.

has a beef with a bunch of birds that sit outside your apartment every morning. definitely the type of weirdo that glares back at birds and throws rocks at them. backfired, because the entire swarm started flocking around him. but you did promise him that you'd let him go outside, so you decide to start with somewhere easy. grocery shopping.

already impressed with the idea of grocery shopping and parking lots. has no clue why humans would cram their 'carriages' in one place, and has no concept of traffic laws. you try patiently explaining that these cars weigh tonnes of metal and they can really injure a person. sukuna's pretty confident that no car could ever even scratch him. cue the big delivery truck that almost runs him down.

completely fascinated by sliding doors. it's already embarrassing enough being outside with a loud, rude tank with pink hair and tattoos. but now he's holding up gruntled customers trying to figure out what enchantment allows glass to move so smoothly on its own. keeps stepping back and forth in front of them to watch them open and close. almost breaks them with the strength of just one cracked fingers before you plead with him to keep moving.

sukuna encounters an escalator for the first time and refuses to step on it, and vows to bash in the head of the little kid who gave him a big side eye. after five minutes of arguing, he finally steps onto the moving belt and almost tilts off-balance, but he's got a tattooed hand practically gripping the side for dear life.

literally the biggest hater when he's inside properly. makes snarky remarks about how this flashy bazaar can't possibly be for real merchants who respect the trade. you try to show him the different types of stores, but he's more interested in people watching. loud people-watching. you almost go home when sukuna asks another man why he's swallowing wet balls. hint: it was an innocent guy having bubble tea.

entirely interested in new fruits and vegetables that he's never seen before. but he'll pretend he doesn't give a flying fuck. has taken a deep liking to tomatoes, and comments that these delicious, tasty red globes were not around during his era. sukuna thinks colourful cereal boxes are the worst things to ever happen to mankind, and you fear that you gave him too much internet access when he sneers at you for picking up a box of froot loops - suddenly muttering things about artificial and fake foods with fake flavours.

baffled by the concept of frozen food, and wonders what sort of jujutsu keeps the meat cold and fresh? practically wide-eyed when he reaches the butcher's stand until you tell him that 'no, sukuna. you can't buy steak and eat it raw here. we have to get home and cook it.' he's just happy to see the deli. he opens the freezer and fridge doors for too long and lets all the cold out.

he has no concept of modern money or a credit card. insists that there is no need to trade for these goods, and he can just take what he wants. you believe him but you're trying to avoid the mall police, but he just stands behind with his arms crossed, while you sigh and take out your credit card to pay at the self checkout.

sukuna refuses to sit still at the food court, and towers over the poor workers. demands to know how the food is made, "is it poisoned? who are your chefs?" the poor teenager working the kebab store has to call the manager to get this fiend of a man to back off. he's able to polish off a doner kebab in two, nasty bites. refuses to carry any of your shopping bags and claims that he's not a mule. you remind him that he put in five tubs of ice creams and two watermelons, and he begrudgingly slings the lightest bag over his shoulder and leaves you to haul the rest up.

but who knew the key to keeping your local king of curses happy was to just simply take him out for a walk? sukuna seems more energised (while you feel like death warmed over) and he's already tearing open a bag of your favourite crisps, insisting that next time he will be able to conquer this 'shopping centre' properly and rule it with ease.

[mixingandmelting]

Hey so how do you think the bat boys would deal with a s/o who’s like the sweetest thing ever and he just sees them get mad, mama bear mode at a super powered hero who could end s/o if they wanted too. Like this super powered hero abused their powers and hurt someone on purpose cuz they’re thought it was funny or like violated their mental privacy with psychic abilities and messed with their head just cuz they are slightly annoyed at them over something mildly inconvenient and basic, (), (a fellow ally hero) and for some reason didn’t see a problem with it and they look confused like they didn’t see the problem as to why they’re being scolded like a bad child and apologise to s/o to appease this s/o cuz they’re friends, and s/o like, “are you kidding me? It’s not me that you need to apologise too and not do that again!”? Maybe the boys have seen slight glimpses into their s/o having some fire in them sent the boys way in the form of some sass when the boys are wrong about something and be stubborn about it?

Dick: 

Does he laugh or cry?  Donna’s covering her mouth with both hands while tapping him every other second to ask if the team should step in. Wally is making him concerned about the potential chance of him dying from hypoxia because he can’t stop laughing. Maybe he should’ve been the one to give the whole lecture why abusing powers for personal reasons is a big no-no. And he was going to do it too, already having the infamous Batman-glare from not being happy, at all, for witnessing the misuse of power for a petty reason. But so far, in his opinion, you’re doing a pretty good job at getting the message across. 

“-Oh, so you think you’re the next Superman or Green Lantern, huh? All big and tough when you resort to using your powers for being called jumbo?” 

See? Plus he’s pretty sure no one, including himself, wants to interfere when you’re like this. You left the Titans a strong impression when you, the warmest and kindest person he has known, showed this side of you before Dick and Gar were about to go at it with each other during a mission that was going wrong. Not only had you asked him if he was trying to prove he’s babygirl  by snapping at his fellow teammate over speakers of his phone, you had gone after everyone else the second your sharp hearing caught the sound of snickering. It was quite a humbling experience to say the least. They managed to actually get themselves back together and  improve their teamwork, starting with everyone comforting each other as soon as you hung up (too bad it didn’t help his case. He still remembers standing in front of the door for over five minutes, hesitant to enter his own home on the day he came back). 

“Are you kidding me? It’s not me you should be apologizing to. Go apologize to the right person and don’t do it again!” 

Oh, no. Well, there’s nothing he can do about it now. He gives the other his condolences, understanding what they must be going through. Doesn’t make the scene any less ridiculous though, the vigilante ten times your size and more powerful, slightly bending forward with a sad puppy look while you’re waving your arms. He plops himself on a broken part of a building and sits back to watch the other party turn around and drag their feet towards the victim while you walk right behind them like a disappointed mother. 

Jason:

He’s turned around, his hand is on the intercom, the other wrapped around his waist to sell the image he’s in the process of tying the loose ends of the finished mission. But it’s getting harder by the second to not burst from the conversation you’re having with the other vigilante. 

“So what you’re telling me is that using your powers to get back at someone because you were annoyed with them is perfectly acceptable and not immature, childish, or stupid. And you’re sure you’re not being immature, childish, AND stupid.”

He covers his snort with a cough. Listen. You’re already considered tiny when with him. Muscles, strength, give or take height. Your heart is the one exception, wider than the sea and accepting to most including himself. To the vigilante? You’re an ant. But here you are, lecturing them to the brink of their ears falling off while they look like a child getting scolded. 

He gets it. Had he been in the hot-seat, he probably would look the same. Out of good faith once, he took Duke  on a mission that involved Black Mask, To give the teen the taste of working as a solo vigilante even though he was far from completing vigilante training. By the time Bruce and the rest of the gang had arrived, his head hung low, standing as if he was the military. You, on the other hand, were forty-one minutes in and counting on your lecture, the poor teen behind you at a loss on whether he should stop you or not. Trust no one in the family to keep silent when people he doesn’t know come up to him at gatherings to ask if the story of him getting served by you is true. He’s still bitter, especially with everyone knowing he can’t do a single thing. Not when it’s tied to gentle and loving you. So when someone who’s close to you and/or him goes through the same misery, it brings him joy from gaining a new comrade, a sympathetic companion. 

“You better get going and apologize right this instance or so help me I will-” 

“That’s my babe.” Jason murmurs, faking a tear from how moved he is under his helmet. Proud that his one love is able to verbally go face-to-face with someone that can squash you if they wanted to. Until it registers in his mind that you’re silent. Turning around, he flinches and awkwardly waves a hand at your glaring form. Well damn. When things were getting good too. 

Tim:

He doesn’t even bat an eyelash to what’s unfolding behind him, going over the mission like normal despite all the glances the JLA gives over his and the rest of Young Justice’s shoulder. 

“Based on how the sediments that were being transported in the crates, we were able to rule out-”

“Sorry to interrupt Robin, but what’s going on behind you four?”

It’s a record-breaking moment. Their responses have never been as in-sync or instantaneous until then.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“It’s not an issue.”

“I don’t see a problem.”

“There’s a problem?” 

The JLA members force themselves to ignore it for the time being from the expression all four of them give. Good. The less questions asked, the better for the team. It was the other day Cass had to face you from the stunt she pulled during said mission they’re going over right now. He knows for a fact that Conner and Bart remember all the times you remind all three males the fire that resides in the soft and sweet you when not taken seriously. When it’s him,Tim can never manage to make eye-contact with you for a few days. Bart hides behind the nearest and largest object the second you’re within a ten-mile radius of him. Conner? He has it the worst. Often left in skin and bones, he used to lie on the floor of his bedroom and contemplate the meaning of life every time someone enters and tries to talk to him. He’s gotten better, having progressed to where he seems to freeze on spot if ignoring the miniscule sniffle he makes. 

You do manage to amaze Tim at the same time, proving to him how  “if there’s a will, there’s a way” is a scientifically proven phrase from the way you stay perfectly fine despite going on for five minutes straight without breathing. 

He does sympathize for the vigilante that can probably kill you on the spot had you not been their friend. From the background of his screen, he can see you point at a certain location before the other dejectedly floats towards that direction. Just in time too. He was running out of ideas on how to stop the league from further finding out Young Justice can’t function without you momming them. 

Duke:

He sends a prayer, wishing the victim to rest in peace. He’s seen you before, experienced first-handedly how you are when you’re in mother-hen mode. And he can say, with complete confidence, the person on the receiving end is a goner. 

Duke’s first time was back during the We Are Robin movement. Looking back, he has to admit younger him was an idiot to think he could dismantle a bomb on his own with no experience, nonetheless one set by Penguin’s men. But him in the past was in his emo-teen phase. Meaning, he didn’t acknowledge or consider all the red flags blaring at his face from how dangerous it was going to be, his mission on proving how useless the adults were to keeping a city safe taking priority. Needless to say, he was a mess when he got back to the base, barely managing to escape with his life intact. 

He thought he knew what was coming when everyone pats his shoulder as they walk out and leave him with you in their meeting room. You didn’t scream. You didn’t yell. The worst part?  He couldn’t defend himself. There was no room for any counter arguments because you knew he knew everything you were saying was right (and because he had a massive crush on but that’s besides the point). Charred front and back, he was instantly put in place and shedding out of his phase there and then. Hence, that moment being the last encounter with that side of you from all the efforts he had put in to do anything to avoid having those horrid times he experienced that day repeat itself again.

“What part of you makes you think it’s me you need to apologize to? On top of messing with a person’s mind because you didn’t like their attitude toward you? Are you sure you’re trying to help save the city? Or are you just- ” 

He shakes his head. He watches the remaining fight in their eyes disappearing, face becoming impossibly paler and ashen when you proceed to shred the remaining dignity in them. On one part, it almost, almost, makes him want to step in and save the other from further looking as if they wanted to dig a hole and bury themselves in it. On another, he’s glad he’s not the one facing your wrath. He can do another day of not going through it, thank you very much. 

Damian: 

He’s having the time of his life. Not as much as he usually does when he ruins a criminal’s perfect night, but still, nonetheless enjoyable. Despite the disapproving eyes Jon shoots at him, his grin grows wider at each strike you give to the vigilante. 

It satisfies him deep in his heart, the image of you destroying their soul piece by piece. Them tasting the hell he constantly goes through.

He suspected you had a fire in your heart since he first met you. How else would it explain your warmth and care you showered others in, including himself? Most cases, he has to maneuver himself to keep most of that warmth to himself. When he doesn’t, that’s when he gets burnt. 

Somehow you always manage to catch him, finding out from someone, perhaps from Drake, Brown, or Todd, about all the reckless actions he did during the mission he went on. Remember the Amazo suit mission he had with Super Boy? You were waiting at his and Super Boy’s hide out the day after it was over. The incident at Lazarus Island? He never wanted to die so much as he did when he had to endure your motherly wrath in front of Suren and Maya. Twice, in fact, after he chased the two that snickered at him during the whole session with his katana.

“Mr. Damian Thomas Wayne-“ is not where you stop. Your grip on his ear is surprisingly strong, where he can’t get you to let go no matter how much he struggles from pure resolve to have him stay where he is. His family had once laughed when he told them how terrifying this skill was, only you in possession of it to his knowledge. Now they, too, fear it having experienced it when they tried to thwart his very much valid and warranted concerns once in front of you. 

“You need to apologize to them, not me! And-Hold on! What do you think you’re doing? Don’t use psychosis! Actually say sorry to them!” 

There’s distraught written all over the vigilante’s face. They aren’t given the choice to choose seeing you don’t budge, leading them to childishly stomp their way towards their fellow teammate, grumbling all the way. They could’ve not listened to you and retaliated back if they really wanted to. Unfortunately, for him, it seems that they want to be in your good grace. Something along the lines of being your friend. Too bad, he disapproves. They’ve been too chummy with you the past few days for his liking and need to be taught the bare requirements to be close to you.

[yandere-romanticaa]

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓 who took a sudden interest in you once you moved to your new place. Finding this place was relatively easy and the rent was dirt cheap. The previous owner was also beyond eager to be rid of this property as soon as he possibly could be. His demeanor when he was showing you around the place was incredibly odd, not to mention that it made you feel jumpy. He was constantly toying with his hands, the sweat he was oh so obviously trying to hide had already created massive puddles all over his white button up, he even tried putting on some cologne and lighting some incense but nothing worked. You decided not to comment and chose to only follow him around, asking him the most basic questions anyone could think of. At the end of the tour the man had turned fully towards you, a big grin suddenly on his face as he raised his arms slightly upwards in a dramatic gesture.

"I'm sure you'll be very comfortable here. Take these keys - welcome to your new home!"

And with that, he was out the door and gone into the night. Holding the metallic key in your hand you closed the door shut and took one last look around the place for the evening. Unfortunately, you were in no position to turn down a place so cheap. It was this or the streets. It'll only be a few months, you had said to yourself.

What could possibly go wrong?

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓, who had been following you around the moment you stepped foot into the place. At first he did nothing but observe as he needed to get used to you, his new roommate. It was enjoyable watching you live out your mundane life, cooking, cleaning and the sorts. He was also interested in your possible hobbies - did you read? Write? Paint? Play an instrument? He has been dead for quite a while now and staying dead can get very tedious and outright boring. He always got a little kick out messing with the owners of this place but there were times when he would go overboard. With a scoff, those thoughts were banished from his mind almost immediately.

It's not as though he was here completely alone. There were... others. Hiding in the shadows. Some more dangerous than others. The rest were human souls such as he was, unable to pass onto the other side. They weren't as proactive as he was as they were not too keen on the living.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓, who starts leaving you little clues and hints around the house. Old books that you couldn't possibly own, newspapers which dated all the way back to his era. A broken glass here, a suspicious handprint there. He particularly enjoyed praying on you while you occupied the bathroom. Don't get him wrong, he was no pervert! Heavens no!

... Maybe he was a little. No need to worry, it's not as though he can act out on any of his urges anyway.

But there was just something so vulnerable to see you so exposed, so completely alone in your element. There was no one else who could see you like this (he always laughed a little at your cluelessness). Your image was etched into his memory like a record that played over and over, if he had the ability to paint you, he would.

Watching became tedious though. He wanted and needed more.

Even in death, he was still just a man.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓, who was trying to get you to talk to him. By simply calling out to him was enough, at least at the start. There was an old ouija board hidden beneath an old bed and it was the perfect means of communication.

He just wished there were other, more safer options than that. He knew all too well that if a person was not careful they could summon something else completely.

That was how he got into this mess into the first place.

That thing would also catch wind of things. He couldn't allow that. Feelings he hasn't felt in decades started to come flooding back but they were even stronger than they ever were in life. Panic, fear and worry - they were all consuming and nothing could ease his mind. Even as he stood at the foot of your bed and watched your chest rise up and down, up and down, there was still no peace for him. He was bitter at your liveliness and your ability to breathe but at the same time, the softness of your cheeks and the song of your laughter became addictive, dare he say like a drug. He wasn't too fond of the fact that other people came over so often, that was not fair.

It was supposed to be just you and him! Even if you didn't know it yet!

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓 who amps up the hauntings and starts becoming more aggressive. He is sick and tired of these games, he wants you all to himself. Windows are forced open and shut, books and other objects start flying off shelves in the dead of night and you even manage to catch a glance of him one evening in the bathroom mirror.

You tried running out the door, barely even dressed but he had locked all of the door beforehand.

His voice could be heard tandem echoes, all teasing and petrifying. He wasn't sure if he wanted you alive or dead anymore.

He just wanted you to stay.

[mrslaflour]

📸 cheese babe.

pairing — taehyun x reader

warnings — noncon filming, restraints, reader is drugged tf out, taehyun totally just cum shotted all over reader, somnophilia things but no sex scene, didn’t proof read shit, all lowercase

notes — VERY QUICK DRABBLE. yes, yes i did post this before grape party kai. this is a tiny drabble to hold you over that i just scribbled down basically :p.

you feel numb. tingles spreading throughout your whole body but you can’t move a single muscle. your eyes can only part slightly, everything else remaining blurry. god, how late is it? was this just another late night nap? you hear a click and then a bright flash come through your eyes causing you to groan.

“you’re awake?”

another voice. in your room? you live alone. you go to speak up but nothing comes out. nothing can come out. it’s like your tongue is just dead and your lips refuse to fully part. you go to sit up but even that task isn’t possible. your arms are stuck behind your back, you finally notice that. but still. you should be able to lift your chest. now you’re worried and your breathing becomes heavier and more strained. it wasn’t until you felt a cold hand press against your chest that you realized you probably were naked. you say probably considering that fact that you can’t move your head to look and you can barely see out of your eyes in the first place.

“you’re my muse for the night. you’re drugged the fuck out though, so if you’re freaking out due to the sensory issues, there’s your answer.”

a man’s voice. that’s all you could get out of what he just said. well, other than the fact that he definitely either kidnapped you or has you out in the back of an alley, once again, you’re literally in the dark. it’s starting to even become difficult to think straight. he moves his hand from your chest and brushes a hair behind your ear.

“i’ll show you the pictures when i’m done and well, when you’re not so out of it.”

he moves away and you hear a few more clicks and see a few more flashes. your eyes shut, and you decide to keep them like that. you feel him push you onto your back and spread your legs open. feeling an extremely cold breeze against your sex. you hear him mumble a few things, but you can’t make them out.

“can you smile?”

it’s silent. you can’t respond and he just laughs. you feel what feels like a giant weight on top of you and two fingers prodding at the corners of your mouth pushing it into a smile and the click of his camera again. that noise was gonna drive you crazy. you feel his arms move lower and start rubbing your sides and gliding through your collarbone.

“i could really have my way with you right now. don’t have to worry about you bitching, screaming for me to stop, pushing me away…”

he pauses.

“but that would be too easy. a struggle is always fun.”

he slaps you and tilts his head to the side with a questioning look on his face.

“could you feel that? are you still there?”

you slightly open your eyes and the tiniest tear pokes out. he hums in content.

“assuming you can hear me, just know you shouldn’t piss me off. i’m not afraid to kill you. it’s not hard for me to find someone new.”

he stands up off of you and you close your eyes again once the camera flash blinds you again. you feel him go to mess with your wrists and the slightest bit of tension seems to be released. he has a hold on one of your wrists and moves it over to your crotch and your other hand to your breast. moving you around like a doll.

“say cheese…”

another click. another flash.

“you look like a fucked out drunk little bimbo. i should live stream this and have people tell me what i should do to you. would give me some more ideas of what positions to put you in for my photos.”

you’re passed out. well…not completely. you can feel everything he’s doing, hear everything, but you can’t think anymore, and you can’t even open your eyes anymore. more tingles bouncing throughout your body.

the sound of a different button can be heard as well as the sound of the camera being placed on the floor. you hear his footsteps come closer to you and the sound of a zipper.

“i know i said it’d be too easy but i have plenty of chances to let you play hard to get after this.”

you hear him groan a couple times before you feel something cold dripping on your stomach and slowly moving up to your face.

“what a shot. can you say cheese for the video?”

he leans down and you feel his hand touch your face before he moves your face on its side. presumably so you can face said camera. you then feel full all the sudden. a sense of splitting in you and you groan. the feeling starts to become painful.

“sh, just lay there and look pretty and let me do all the work.”

he goes deeper in you as he moves up more so he can put his finger on the corner of your lips and moves it up into a smile again.

“say cheese!”

[tracklessreason]

Hi. It's me again.

WHERE THE FRICK IS BUMBLEBEE?! Sorry, let me calm down and retry.

Thank you for answering my last ask, I can't help but notice how no one knows where Bee's ghost is. And Megatron is the one looking into the Matrix... Is he haunting Megatron? Trying to stop him from doing it? Helping him?

Is Optimus's ghost following Ratchet around like a sad puppy?

Also just the pairings- Jazz with Megatronus? THat sounds... like fun.

Do the primes miss the other Primes and ask their host if they can check on the other bots that got shrapeneled? Maybe one of them asks if they can find a way to talk with the others... or maybe they can talk trough the hosts... maybe... (ah ah possessed arc)

(PS I really vibe with Hive's whole deal, he is very cool :D and I'm devastated that I'm the one that discovered how he explodes)

Hug hug!

Hi again!!! Don't worry, Bee is still here!

His spirit is just...struggling. He's weak at first, flickering like a dying light bulb. He hasn't left the fractured core of the Matrix still in his corpse, but his soul signature is so weak no one can find him. He's just sort of trapped there for a while, in the burnt out room he died in. Until Megatron of course.

Megatron breaks into the autobot base, walks past every sleeping mech he could easily have snuffed, and steals the Matrix core, and by unintentional extension, steals Bumblebee. Now at first, Bee is rightfully upset. He hates being at the gloomy decepticon base, he hates Megatron for taking his voice, he's just mad. Time passes as Megatron tinkers with the core, and Bee regains strength enough to....throw things???

It shouldn't be possible. Somehow this unstable remnant of the Matrix doesn't contain him, but merely houses him, and as he grows stronger, he can appear as an apparition to Megatron. He uses it almost solely to hinder him. With no voice (even ghost Bee gets no respite) all he can really do is mess up Megatron's workspace and insult him through pantomime. Really he doesn't understand why Megatron puts up with it, but aside from the occasional fit of rage at his antics, the decepticon leader ignores him as much as possible and puts his all into trying to restore the Matrix.

Before long he starts having one sided conversations with Bumblebee. Its mostly complaints at first, and insults towards him and the autobots and whatever else goes wrong in his life outside of this little workshop Bee cant leave. It soon gives way to more private matters; intentionally or not, Megatron is revealing his very convoluted, very mixed feelings about Optimus Prime.

The war has gone on too long, why couldn't that idiot just see things from his perspective, he deserved to die, he will be brought back, how could his oldest friend just leave him like this...

To Bee it sounds...exactly like how Optimus felt about Megatron, just drowned in molten anger issues. Against his self preservation instinct, Bee decides to work towards putting this whole mess to bed. Nothing better to do.

With what limited knowledge and communication he has, he does his best to try and help Megatron fix the Matrix. They have spats still, and plenty of set backs, but things smooth over when Megatron (begrudgingly) admits to feelings of regret over taking Bee's voice. As an olive branch, Bee explains something to Megatron that he's been dying to know: how Optimus died.

Things sour fast. Megatron is determined to murder Starscream, Bee is frustratedly trying to explain that if he does so, this little partnership of convenience is over, and he will ensure that the Matrix is never restored. The end of the war relies almost solely on Megatron reeling in his damn anger, and Bee doesnt intend to allow any slip ups. He has no idea how this will end when Megatron leaves the workshop that night.

On the other side of things, the Primes are having a real...weird time?? The ones without hosts can communicate with each other, but the other four are basically cut off from all but their hosts. They don't have the ability to take control anymore, and even if they did, their hosts are nowhere near as easy to possess, nor as willing, as Hive Prime was. Ratchet especially has threatened to tear the Matrix metal from his frame and grind it to dust if Prima so much as thinks about trying it. The other three hosts are similarly put off.

Once again the Primes are relegated to giving advice, but it's not advice anyone seems to want, and yeah, it's mostly because of the wild pairings. Megatronus is constantly clutching his pearls over Jazz's laid-back attitude and deliberate ignorance of his wishes. Prima's calm rationality does little to temper Ratchet's snappy demeanor and only really gets on his nerves (how can you be so calm after what you all did?). Ironhide straight up refuses to acknowledge Quintus. Drift is probably the only one feeling alright with all this. Alpha Trion is generally reasonable, and isn't interested in having control over Drift's form, nor was he interested in it with Hive, so they just vibe like college roommates.

It's uncomfortable, but the Primes are used to sharing space. The worst part is actually sharing it with fewer mechs than usual. The Primes all miss each other to varying degrees, but for the most part are either too egotistical to admit it, or think it improper to mention.

Of course, grand prize for worst ghost time currently goes to Optimus. Dying, watching Bee suffer, feeling his friend's life force extinguish...

He might as well be a husk right now, full on silent treatment is all he's capable of at the moment. The other Primes know better than to try and speak with him. This is their doing to begin with, the channeling of their energy that strained Bee so heavily. Optimus follows the elected council around during the days, but at night he sits outside the room where Hive's body rests. He was there the night that Megatron broke in.

It takes immense effort to travel far enough out from the base to go see Megatron, and he needs several cycles to recover after every attempt, but he keeps doing it, knowing he could fade away permanently. When he gets there, he's too weak for Bee or Megatron to detect him. But he can hear their talks. He misses them both more than words can say.

(Sorry the response is so long, lol. This ask really got the gears turning in my head. I hope at least that makes up for being the one to find out that Ending 3 Hive dies bloody. I'm really flattered to hear you like him! For me that's quite high praise coming from you. Hug hug!)

[pastorpresent]

Part 2 to this, as an apology, except as with everything I write, it gets worse before it gets better lmaooo

-

Things had been tense between them, since that night. So tense that Wade had taken to making up a makeshift bed on the floor, and that was about the only time Logan even saw the mercenary.

During the day, their paths rarely crossed.

Mary Puppins was loving it. Their lack of communication meant that Logan was fairly certain she was ending up with double the food and double the walks.

Al was sick of both their shit, and had made sure to let them both know several times. The phrase 'emotionally constipated dick for brains assholes' sprung to mind.

Logan knew it wasn't functional, but then again he was barely functional these days. If he wasn't too drunk to be conscious, he was chain smoking on the couch watching shitty reality tv, trying in vain to conjure up Wade esque commentary alongside it in his head (and wasn't that fucking crazy, to miss the idiots ramblings) and pretend that the arms he wrapped around himself belonged to somebody else.

He'd looked at other apartments, but he couldn't afford the rent, and there was still something tethering him here. Maybe he was clinging onto something long gone, but maybe it was salvageable. He needed to believe that, because he'd never had anything worth clinging too since his old team, and that had been a long time ago.

So he couldn't bring himself to leave. Because even if him and Wade only saw each other in passing for what was likely a grand total of thirty seconds a day, he needed those thirty seconds.

He was fine. It was fine.

Well, that is until one afternoon when he'd arrived home from a grocery run.

When he'd opened the door, he was surprised to see Wade's shoes on the rack. He had been at work when Logan had left, and normally he was there until at least five.

He very almost called out for the man, but decided against it. Whatever reason it was, Logan was certain it was none of his buisness.

He headed to the kitchen, noting their shut bedroom door, which also wasn't all that uncommon these days. Wade spent most his time locked away in there, likely in an effort to avoid him.

There was something niggling at him, though. An anxiety he wasn't used to feeling, because he wasn't used to caring about people enough to agonise over their wellbeing. It had been too long, and so the feeling felt unfamiliar and wrong, and it compounded onto everything else that was unfamiliar and wrong in his body.

He was about ready to buckle under the weight of it.

What if Wade had left work early because he'd been hurt? What if someone had come for him for whatever reason? What if he was sick? Could he get sick? What if he-

The carton of milk he'd picked up to put away burst under the strength of his grip, getting all over him and the floor.

Fuck it. Fuck all of it. He'd just check quickly to make sure the bastard was okay, and it would mean absolutely nothing, and then he could go back to putting the groceries away and not destroying half of them in the process. He was only checking on him because he couldn't afford to replace more food, basically, which was a completely normal thing to do. Obviously.

He goes to their room and flings the door open.

Wade is fine. He's... he's more than fine, probably, Logan thinks vaguely as he stares at the scene in front of him.

He'd not seen Vanessa's shoes at the door. Had they been there? Maybe he'd missed them. Maybe he'd been too focused on Wade's. He should go check.

"Logan-!"

He shut the door. Because it was the right thing to do when two people were fucking, and despite the general concencess - he was polite. Not because he couldn't look at them without wanting to scream and break shit and throw up.

It's a blur, leaving the apartment. He almost slips on the puddle of milk dogpool is currently lapping up, and he hopes Wade has the sense after... after he's done to mop it up so Al doesn't slip.

Wade, cleaning up his fucking mess. Again. Ironic that that's exactly how this whatever-the-fuck between them is going to end.

He shoves his shoes on, skips out on a jacket because he needs to be out of here now, because the air is too thin and he's going to fucking suffocate, regenerative powers be damned. This is what dying feels like, actual dying, and he's certain of it.

His skin is burning. So are his eyes.

He doesn't take a key. Doesn't need to be back. He's never coming back in again, he's sure of it.

What the fuck was he thinking, staying here? Bombarding into Wade's life like a piece of a puzzle that doesn't fit properly, leaving gaps around him and fucking the whole thing up.

He's wrong. He doesn't fit here, because he's from another puzzle entirely, and he should never of left his box. Maybe that's why everything was so fucked. His body knew on a level that his brain refused to acknowledge yet that he didn't belong in this world. He didn't belong with Wade, even if it's the safest he'd felt in years.

He's sobbing and probably completely incoherent by the time he stumbles into the nearest TVA post, but they don't question his state or why he makes his request. They just do it.

//

"Logan-!"

Wade pushes Vanessa away from him rather than making a grab for the covers, which says more than he'd care to analyse at the minute.

Logan doesn't say anything, which is the worst outcome. Wade wants to be cussed out. Have a liquor bottle thrown at his head. Anything, dealers choice!

But not the crestfallen expression as he quickly shuts the door. As if Wade's exclamation had been from aggravation at being interrupted, rather than a place of genuine oh fuck no.

It's his own fault, and he needs to fix it now.

"Wade, where are you going?" Vanessa asks, her frustrations thinly veiled as he scrambles off the bed and tries to find his clothes.

"Logan- he... I need to make sure he's okay," Wade explains in a rushed sort of garble, and where the fuck did he throw his shirt?! He wanted to punch his horny self in the face for not neatly folding his clothes atop of the nightstand.

"He's 200, and didn't he live in a mansion with a bunch of teenagers? I'm sure it's not the first time he's walked in on people having sex," Vanessa deadpanned, and Wade wanted to shout at her that she didn't get it, but that wouldn't be remotely fair.

How could he expect her to know anything about the thing him and Logan had failed to even discuss themselves? Especially... especially when he'd called her for this exact purpose.

He'd been having an awful day at work. Beyond shit. He'd been spoken to like an idiot by some asshole who only seemed to come to car dealerships to flaunt his knowledge of each vehicle for an hour straight. His manager had screamed at him for an hour over a two dollar till discrepancy, and he'd learnt they were taking away two lots of commission from him due to his name not being 'cohesive' enough on the paperwork.

That, on top of how royally he'd fucked up things with Logan by pushing him too far too quickly, and he just needed to feel like he could do something right, and experience a few minutes of sweet post orgasm bliss.

He'd called Vanessa, been pretty fucking transparent about his intentions of it as a one time hookup, clocked out early under the guise of not feeling great and met her at the apartment.

Logan was out on the grocery run, which normally meant he'd be out a couple of hours.

He wasn't meant to come back earlier. He wasn't meant to open the door.

Because Wade knew how it looked, he did. It looked like he'd given up on... whatever the hell they'd been building, because it had gotten messy and he just wanted to get his dick wet.

And he'd done some real fucked up things in his life, but if Logan thought that was remotely true, even for the five minutes it would take Wade to find him and correct it, that was going up there with the very worst.

"I need to find him, 'Ness. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I just..." he couldn't say it, because he was an emotionally stunted child, and he needed to apologise to her properly too, for dragging her into this - but his brain was going too fast for his mouth and he was left without the ability to say any of it.

"Wade," she interrupted quietly, pulling on her own shirt and coming over to him with his own dangling from a finger, "it's okay, alright? I'm not blind, I know he means a lot to you. I just wish you two assholes would figure it out," she smiled softly, and Wade frowned.

"I- I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called," he murmured, and she shrugged, kissing his cheek and pushing the shirt against his chest, "eh, one last hurrah was needed before you settle down with that one. Pretty sure you'll never be single again, Wilson. Or will it be Howlett?"

Wade let out a surprised sound, choking on air momentarily while she laughed at him.

He pulled on the shirt, giving her one last small smile before rushing out the room.

//

He'd been searching for days. He'd went into every bar in a ten mile radius of their apartment, had spent an entire weeks wage on cabs just driving the streets. Looking for literally any sign of him.

None.

He was fucking desperate. His calls went straight to voicemail, and he even got fucking missing person posters made (he was too depressed to even photoshop kitty ears onto the photo he used which, come on).

He wasn't sleeping. The idea of never seeing Logan ever again all because he was too much of a pussy to talk to him? It killed any sembelence of appetite he had, and any hope at settling enough to sleep.

The TVA was his very last avenue of hope. They could see everything, so they'd have to be able to find Logan.

He hadn't even bothered to put on his suit, and the agents looked thoroughly confused when he entered, not used to seeing him without it.

It was hung up in the closet right next to Logans. Taking it away from the untouched yellow felt too much like an omen for Wade to proceed with, if he was being fully honest with himself.

"I need your help," he said, feeling the eyes move with him as he strode across the room up to the lead agent. He didn't know his name, and didn't frankly care to either.

The guy frowned, "Wade Wilson, right?"

"Can you locate people? Get a general whereabouts for them? My friend is... missing," he interrupted, cutting right to the chase. He didn't have time for pleasantries, and God knows he didn't have the temperament as of right now.

"Ah," the guy hummed, "you're looking for Logan. Well I regret to inform you, Mr Wilson, but he requested that information remain quiet-"

Wade might not of packed any weapons, but he tended to thrive with improvisation, which was how he ended up with the fucker pinned against the console, a pen inches from his eye.

"My friend was feeling a smidge unstable, so you'll have to forgive him for making you make promises you can't keep however," he pushed down an arm against the guys neck, who choked beneathe it, "I'm substantially more unstable, and unless you tell me where the hell he is right now, I'm going to ram this pen so deep into your skull it pops out the other side, then I'm going to make you use it to write down his exact coordinates. Understood?"

And maybe it was overkill. Just slightly, because the guy just seemed remarkably harmless, but there was no way Wade was leaving here without knowing the exact address of whatever bar Logan had opted to drink himself to death in.

The guy nodded frantically, raising his arms in surrender.

"He- he's returned to his own timeline, I'm afraid."

Wade stumbled backwards.

No. He must've heard wrong, because Logan wouldn't of done that. Couldn't of left forever, not when... not when they hadn't fixed things.

"I am sorry, Mr Wilson. But Logan was very clear that he wanted to return to his home-"

"I'm his fucking home!" Wade screamed before he could reign in the building anger, tears burning in his eyes, "this is his goddamn home, you fuck. Our- our beds here, and our apartment, and our dog and... and me, so you're going to give me your stupid time jumping thing and let me go bring him back to his actual home," he seethed, his chest heaving as he glared at the man.

"I can't just give you my tempad. You've already proved yourself dangerous to other timelines previously-"

Wade laughed, and laughed, until the guy gave a nervous chuckle himself, forcing a smile, and then Wade grabbed him by his neck and tossed him onto the ground, grabbing his tie as he did in order to choke him before crouching down and getting uncomfortably close.

"You think you've seen me be dangerous? What I'm going to do to you if you don't give me what I want will make all of my past actions look like a kitten riding a fucking unicorn over cotton candy clouds in order to go to an ice cream parlour," Wade threatened, and he meant every word.

He pitied the stupid asshole who kept him away from his Logan. Fucking idiot. And it was so fucking stupid, because Logan probably didn't want anything to do with him anymore. I mean, could there be a clearer message that quite literally hopping timelines to get away from somebody?

But it couldn't end like this. He wouldn't let it. It couldn't end with them barely speaking, two ghosts sharing an apartment. It couldn't end with Logan believing what they'd had for so many months, and what they very almost had that night a few weeks ago, meant nothing to him.

The fact was - it was the thing that meant the fucking most.

He loved Logan Howlett, and something about that thought, hitting him with such clarity as he threatened to murder a man, made everything make so much more sense.

He needed to see Logan. Now.

Maybe the guy could see the emotion in his face and pitied him. Maybe the universe was rewarding him for conjuring up genuine emotion and acting on it. Maybe the guy just didn't want to be decapitated.

Either way, Wade ended up with tempad in hand. Logistics and reasons were no longer relevant.

"Thanks, sweetness. See ya soon!"

He pressed the button, dissapearing from the room and leaving behind a dozen horrified employees.

//

The first time he'd been to Logan's timeline, he hadn't exactly seen much. He spawned into the bar practically atop of him, and he'd dragged his unconscious body through the portal back to his own world in that same bar.

He wasn't exactly wanting a full tour regardless. From what Logan had divulged after too much alcohol and the safety of their bedroom walls, his world was very anti-mutant.

Logan insisted a lot of it was down to him, but Wade believed people fucking sucked, and if they wanted to hate something, they didn't waste time looking for a reason to do it.

When he stepped through the doorway, it was into a dark street.

He didn't recognise where he was, and he could only hope he was somewhere close to Logan.

He glanced around, but nothing really caught his eye, until he noticed a shrouded alleyway, with a metal door.

It didn't seem to be attached to any store front, and Wade figured it probably fit the description of shady ass bar slash potential strip club enough for Logan to be inside.

He knocked. A burly guy opened the door, and glared at him, "fuck off, your kind isn't welcome here you fuckin' freak," he spat, about to slam the door, but Wade stopped him.

He wanted to break the guys face, lecture him on acceptance while pummeling him into the concrete, but there was a sinking feeling in his stomach that was nagging at him to get inside, and to do that he'd have to play it smart.

"You think I'm one of those mutant freaks? Fuck no. Sick bastards. This? Is from a warehouse fire," he gestured to his face, and the guy looked immediately apologetic.

"My bad man, my bad. Can never be too careful, y'know? Thought we'd almost eradicated the fuckers, and then one turns up at the door a few days ago. Luckily for him, we were needing some entertainment around here since the last catch kicked the bucket," the guy smirked.

Wade had to swallow down bile.

"That's what I'm here for," he replied, unable to really formulated anything else around the suffocating fear filling his lungs. It wasn't an emotion he was used to feeling, but the idea of Logan being used as 'entertainment' in this place was enough for the blood in his veins to freeze up with it.

"Come on in then, man. Just down the stairs, to your right," he stepped aside, and Wade quickly pushed inside, following the directions.

The hallways grew dimmer as he went, lights flickering and buzzing, and then... cheering.

The fuck was this place?

Posters spewing death to mutant slogans were littering the walls, and Wade forced himself to keep moving, hoping and praying that Logan wasn't in this twisted fucking place. That he'd gotten it wrong, and the brunette was in some slightly less terrifying place drinking away his emotions.

He rounded the corner, pushing open the double doors, and the cheering grew into a roar as he entered a room full of bodies, people herded in a circle surrounding a cage.

A cage, which Logan was currently in.

Wade pushed his way to the front, getting drinks spilt down him as he shoulder checked men double his size. He stumbled forwards like a moth to a flame, eyes wide, grabbing the bars and staring at the man he loved in utter horror.

Logan was chained to the bars in thick metal cuffs, and he had a collar strapped around his neck that Wade was far too familiar with. He was on his knees, slumped forward, bleeding from wounds Wade couldn't see properly. He was stripped down to a pair of dirtied boxers, breathing heavily, muscles pulling from obvious pain.

"Twenty dollar entry, and you can do whatever the fuck you want to him, folks! A genuine, dirty fucking mutant - and not just any, either - The Wolverine himself!" The crowd erupted in yelling and boos, the stench of alcohol overwhelming as men pushed into him from behind, trying to get a better view.

Look at me, baby. Look up. I'm here, I'm going to get you out. I'm so sorry.

Wade wished that Logan could hear his thoughts. He wished so badly he could just tell him it was going to be alright.

He started trying to move his way to the door of the prison where the presenter freak was, pay his dues. If he could just get in there, he could open up a door back to their timeline and pull Logan through. Easy.

Someone beat him to it.

"Alright, get ready for the show, folks!"

The door opened, and unless you were really searching (Wade was, because he's always searching Logan's expression, always wanting to know how the other was feeling) you wouldn't notice the slight flinch Logan did when he heard the sound.

Wade watched with baited breath as the sick fuckface approached. His fingers itched for his gun, so he could empty a few dozen rounds into the bastards smug mouth.

It was cowardly and fucking pathetic. Having Logan chained up, powers suppressed, helpless to do a damn thing all while he was beat on.

The man wasted no time.

He kicked, and punched, and stomped every inch of Logan that he could, being utterly brutal with it, blood splattering on him and the ground and a few drops even landed on Wade, who was watching the scene on the other side of the bars, screaming Logan's name, begging him to at least try to fight back.

He didn't. His only movements were the jolts from the impact of the beating, and Wade was fairly certain he had to be unconscious until the man dug his fingers into his hair and pulled his head upwards, giving a better view of his face.

Wade choked on a building sob, the air being yanked from his lungs.

Logan's entire face was battered and bruised, swollen beyond recognition. There was more blood than skin visible, some fresh and some sticky looking, half dried, and some flaking off. A testament to how long he'd been trapped in this hell hole, to how many men had paid just to make him bleed.

Guilt gnawed uneasily at his stomach. If it wasn't for him and his stupid selfishness and inability to express his goddamn emotions, Logan would never of left. He wouldn't of ended up here, and he wouldn't be about to die in some disgusting back alley fight club while all Wade could do was watch helplessly. He caused this. He caused the person he loved the most in the world to be quite literally dying on his knees, at the mercy of assholes who had none to offer him.

The guy punched him hard across the jaw, earning a sickly crack, before spitting on his face. The crowd cheered him on, laughing and whooping.

Logan didn't react, blinking blearily beneath two swollen black eyes. When the grip of his hair dissapeared, he slumped back towards the ground like a rag doll.

Wade needed to get in that fucking cage right now. He shoved his way to the door, where the presenter guy was stood, looking almost bored.

Wade's desire for murder was going fucking crazy today. It should be a genuine testament to his self control that he hadn't killed half the stupid fucks he'd encountered, even if said restraint was only born from a need to save his friend.

"I've got one hundred. I want in now, but I want the cuffs off," Wade held up the crumpled bills, and the guy looked between the cash and the cage.

"Cuffs off? Don't think you get how dangerous this one is, kid. He's got a list of victims longer than the damn Bible, and I ain't getting in there to pull you out if he decides to gut ya like a fish. His powers may be suppressed but he's still fuckin' strong," the guy warned, and Wade plastered on the sleeziest smirk he could manage.

"I've got it, I want to be able to snap all his fingers in two. Doesn't seem right that they are protected away in those cuffs, they deserve the same treatment as the rest of him," his brain was screaming at him, the words physically hurting as he spoke them, like razor blades crawling up his throat and cutting his mouth to ribbons.

The man shrugged, "whatever," and a buzzer rang out.

"New contestant entering the ring!"

The door was opened. The man who had just been beating Logan strode out with a satisfied look on his stupid face, and Wade might of been refraining from actual murder, but absolutely anyone could've stuck their leg to the side and tripped the fucker. Anyone at all, really!

He followed the presenter into the cage.

Logan didn't move, or look up.

The cuffs got removed, and Wade got a pat on the shoulder as the man left, along with a sadistic "enjoy, all yours."

Logan was slumped into a heap on the floor, and now Wade was closer, he could better see the extent of the damage.

Every breath Logan took was laboured and wheezing, short pained gasps. The blood truly was everywhere, along with... other bodily fluids, which Wade sort of expected. This didn't seem the sort of job that allowed for frequent bathroom breaks.

He crouched down, reaching out to lightly rest a hand on Logan's bicep, on the area with the least damage, which was sickeningly hard to find.

Logan whimpered beneathe his hand, curling in onto himself further, a whispered "stop," barely audible under the weight of the crowds chants as they goaded him into beating the man in front of him further.

"Logan," he breathed, but the older man seemed to be buried too far in his own head to realise it was him.

Wade wasn't wasting anymore time. He needed Logan out of here, and the stupid inhibitor collar off of his neck so he could heal before he died from his injuries.

He opened the portal, and before anyone could even unlock the cage to get in, he was dragging all 300 pounds of Logan back into their apartment, and quickly shut down the gateway.

He left him bleeding on the carpet while he raced to the kitchen, rifling through drawers until he found the small metal magnetic device. A gift from Colossus a good while ago, which had the ability to open up those awful collars. Something told him brute force wasn't an option for Logan right now.

He returned, that uneasy pit in his stomach only growing when he discovered Logan was still in the same spot he'd left him in, staring up at the ceiling but seemingly not seeing anything.

"Hey Lo, I'm gonna take that collar off now, alright?"

His voice earned no reaction either, and Wade swallowed, reaching out for the device wrapped around his neck.

Logan flinched back when he did, shaking his head sluggishly, "no, no more, pl'se, no," and Logan sobbed, trying to curl up but hissing in pain when he moved.

"Peanut-"

The brunette tried to get up, but quickly came crashing back down when his legs instantly buckled.

"Logan, it's me, yeah? It's Wade," he assured, and he watched as Logan stilled, trying to focus in on his face, those big wet eyes filling up again.

He let out an awful, pained sound, and grabbed onto his arm so tightly it hurt.

"M...'m dead? I- want Wade," he cried harder, and Wade frowned.

"No baby, I'm here. You're alive, you're okay. I got you out. I'm here," he promised, squeezing Logan's hand in his own.

"Stop! S-stop! N-not real, not..." Logan choked, gagging out blood onto the carpet, and all Wade could do was whisper an apology before grabbing the collar and pulling Logan up enough to reach the back to open it, all while Logan screamed and thrashed and tried to fight him.

The collar popped off with a click, and Wade shoved it aside, shushing Logan softly with a hand stroking through his greasy hair.

To his relief, Logan started healing fairly quickly, his wounds closing themselves up and the bruises fading from where they'd once painted his skin unforgiving shades of blue and purple.

"You're alright, everything is okay. I'm here," Wade continued to assure quietly, and Logan's screaming tapered down into simmering sobs, ripping out of his chest just as brutally.

"'M, 'm sorry," he hiccuped, still clinging onto him for dear life, and Wade shook his head, still playing with his hair.

"No, nono, no baby. No 'sorry', you didn't do anything wrong," Wade said, but Logan thrashed, getting more distressed.

"Ru'n everythin' I touch. Messed up you're l-life, 'm not... shouldn't be here," Logan cried, trying to move away, but Wade stopped him, staring down at him.

"Is that really what you think?"

How could Logan even start to believe that? How could he think for a single second that he was impacting negatively whatsoever on Wade's life? He was Wade's life, could the idiot really not see that?

"Logan, look at me right the fuck now."

Logan hesitantly looked in his direction, "i- I shouldn't be here. You- you had a life, a future," he said, and Wade could tell this wasn't just something that had came to him in that moment. The way Logan spoke, the utter pain laced through the words like poison, this was something that had been eating away at him for a while.

God, Wade wanted to scream. He wanted to grab the dumbass and shake some actual sense into him, because seriously?

"There isn't anywhere else I'd let you be, peanut. You could hop fifty universes over and I'd march into the TVA and kill any fucker who tells me I'm not allowed to follow. You're stuck with me, get it? You're my present, and my future, and I'm not letting you dip out of that," Wade promised, because it was exactly that. A promise. Logan wasn't going anywhere without him following behind. Wade would make sure of it, no matter who he'd have to kill or worlds he'd have to eradicate in the process. It was all just pointless collateral to Wade, if it meant staying beside Logan.

Logan was looking at him with something akin to awe, bright eyes shining through the layers of blood and dirt smeared over his face, like he couldn't fathom that Wade would choose him to mean so much.

It was sweet, and yet made him want to rip his own heart out at the same time, to know that Logan thought so ridiculously little of himself. For him to think that, even after the months they've had together, that Wade could ever be so quick to discard him.

That was partly his fault. He knew that. He hadn't exactly showed a willingness to fight for... this when he was sleeping with Vanessa.

"Wade you... you're good. You're too good and you deserve someone who's not completely fucked up," Logan sat up a little, a bitter laugh erupting from his chest, "fuck, I couldn't even... I couldn't even get through sex without fucking breaking down, and it's not fair on you to carry that burden-"

Wade couldn't listen to Logan's self deprivation any longer, and leaned in to kiss him hard, one hand moving to cup the back of his head.

"Shut up," he said when the kiss broke momentarily, both of them panting inches away from each other, "shut the fuck up, alright? You are not a fucking burden to carry, and besides - you really think I'm good? You really think I'm a walk in the park? I kill people on the regular just for the crime of pissing me off. I never stop fucking talking. It's takes me six to twelve buisness weeks to process an emotion, and I'm a terrible friend-"

"Wade stop it," Logan begged, voice tight, hand on his thigh.

"No, you're not the only one with flaws here, baby. I could write you a whole book of mine, get you to sign it like a fucking contract," wasn't a bad idea, actually - having Logan legally binded to him just a little, "the point is," he kissed Logan's jaw, splayed his fingers over his neck, dug in his nails just a little, just enough to make the brunette whimper into his mouth, "I fucking love the shit out of you, Lo. You don't have to say it back. That's not what this is, alright? I just need you to know."

Logan broke their almost embrace to sit back, staring at him. Wade couldn't breathe for a second, waiting for the impending rejection.

Instead, he was met with three hundred pounds of adamantium skeleton atop of him, Logan's arms wrapping tight enough to hurt around his waist, his face buried away in Wade's neck which was rapidly growing wet with tears.

"I- I love you too," came a shaky whisper, and Wade just might of air punched in celebration if he was capable of moving at the present moment.

He leaned down to drop a kiss to Logan's hair, nuzzling his face into it. Logan practically purred, lifting his head up enough to kiss him, tongue slipping in without inhibition, and Wade moaned against his mouth, running his hands all over, knowing he'd probably need it after so long.

He was proven right by the way Logan's body went limp and heavy, soft noises escaping his throat as he plastered himself against Wade.

They lay like that for a while, on the blood stained rug, sharing lazy but desperate kisses, all while Wade touched Logan as much as he possibly could, reclaiming every inch of skin as his own, until he almost forgot where one part of himself ended and Logan started.

Logan mewled, bucking his hips down, and Wade kissed his cheek tenderly, "soon, big guy. Let's shower and get you something to eat first, kay? Let me take care of you, then I'll fuck you so hard you pass out. Pinky promise," Wade hummed, and Logan murmured his agreement, letting Wade help him up off the floor.

A few hours later when, true to his word, Wade had quite literally washed him, scrubbing his scalp clean with gentle fingers, made him his favourite meal despite his hatred of cooking, and then fucked him so good Logan did genuinely pass out briefly at his climax, they were laid out in bed together, tangled together loosely.

Wade was playing with his hair. Logan was leaving trails of peppered kisses over Wade's chest.

And Logan thought, for the first time with a clear brain, the voices gone, that Wade would never have to follow him across fifty universes, because Logan would rather gouge his own body apart than be more than fifty feet away from him ever again.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for asking my gf's son not to call me dad?

I (22M) have been dating my gf (24F) for 4 years now. She has a 7 year old whose dad isn't in the picture anymore - he hasn't been since the kid was born. My gf says he was abusive and I think there are some charges against him but as far as I know, nothing was proven. He has other kids too who he does have a relationship with but he doesn't have custody rights with my gf's son so they hasn't been allowed to have a relationship.

My gf and I live together and are both in college. I am going to be a surgeon and she wants to study science but she hasn't decided what to do with it yet. Because we're both busy with that, her son doesn't live with us full time. He stays with her parents during the week. This means that we have to dedicate our weekends to looking after the kid. I didn't really mind this at first but her parents are really pushing for her to look after him during the week now too, which we don't have time for. I hear how that doesn't sound great but the plan has always been that her parents will take care of the kid until she finishes with school. She has classes for 4+ hours from Mon-Thurs, plus she needs to spend a few hours studying every day, then she has labs on Friday for most of the day. I have classes all week for fewer hours each day but next semester I'll probably be doing an internship so I'll have more work to do. Then we pick up her kid on Friday evenings and spend the whole weekend with him. There's hardly any time for us to spend time alone together. I like her son and he's usually fun to have around but both of us are obviously stressed from having no down time so most weekends my gf and her son get into an argument or something and things escalate. I try not to get involved when that happens. Sometimes my gf and I are the ones who end up arguing and in that case, I usually go to my parents house.

Basically, I'm not super involved with the kid. Her parents want us to spend all of our free time on parenting despite originally agreeing that it was better if my gf focused on school. He has a dad who could probably be more involved but my gf and her family don't want him around. I've suggested that maybe it would be a better solution for her son to live with his dad full time, that way she can focus on school and then her career and still have time for herself and for us. I love her but she doesn't really have maternal instincts and she doesn't actually want kids, she has said a lot that she regrets not giving him up for adoption.

Recently, we were out for dinner with my gf's sister and kid, and the kid called me his dad. He's done this a lot and usually I just kind of ignore it, but no one else corrected him this time and I felt like the kid deserved the truth. I asked him then and there not to call me dad because he has a real dad who probably wouldn't like it. He didn't seem upset by it but my gf's sister lost it. She thinks I don't want the kid around and that I'm the reason my gf doesn't spend more time with him. She also thinks this was the first time my gf's son heard about his bio dad. Total conjecture, but she won't hear my side of it. The kid knows I havent been around since he was born so he obviously knows someone else must be his dad. I told my gf I don't think it's fair to let the kid call me dad when he has a real dad out there and she sort of agrees. She told her son not to call me dad anymore and they had a long talk about it. She still doesn't want the real dad involved but that's a whole other battle.

Here's why I think I might be the asshole: I said this to the kid in a moment of annoyance, which probably wasn't the way to bring it up. Like I said, he didn't seem upset by it but I wasn't there for the longer conversation so I don't know exactly. I think he's old enough to be allowed to know about his real dad in a more serious way. It's kind of messed up that he could run into his dad in the street (we live in a pretty small town) and wouldn't know it. I'm not his dad and for the foreseeable future, I won't be responsible for him as a parent because he still lives with his grandparents. I think it's reasonable to say that he shouldn't call me dad. So, AITA?