#willing to go to hell LITERALLY go to hell if there was a chance to get the woman he loved back

[rexscanonwife]

Hear me out.....

[mixingandmelting]

Heavy Blanket

Summary: You were cold and needed a blanket. He decides to be that blanket only to get too comfy and lay on top of you longer than needed

Simon "Ghost" Riley

You’re hot. Sweltering. Wheezing. Lungs close to collapsing. And no matter how many times you tell him, he won’t. Get. Off.

“Simon, please.” You gently nudge his shoulder, trying to get him to look at you. “I’m suffocating here.” 

He simply grunts, nuzzling his face into your chest as his arms tighten around your chest. You suppose it’s your fault, having told him that you were cold and not wanting to get off the couch to get a blanket. You just.. didn’t expect him to take it quite literally and provide you a heavy, weighted one (i.e., him). 

You sigh. Maybe you could push him off…? You glance down only to be reminded how massive he is, easily engulfing your being so that it looks like there’s simply a single person on the sofa. Hell, the only indication you’re even lying there is your head and arms poking out from underneath. No body, just ligaments. 

Yeah. It’s Not happening. As if sensing your disgruntlement, he lifts his head so his eyes would be looking into yours. For a moment the two of you stare, waging a wordless battle.

“…For a person called ghost, you’re so cheeky.”

He snorts, going back to comfortably resting his head on your chest.

“Only to you, love. Only to you.” 

Took the words right out of your mouth. 

Shaking your head in exasperation, you card your fingers through his hair. Welp. laundry is definitely not getting done today. 

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish

“Johnny?”

“No.”

“Johnny.”

“No.”

“John Mactavish.”

That gets him to lift his head up. You try not to snort at the offended look he gives you, his eyes asking if you had seriously just used his full name over something like this. Instead, you take this chance to finally get some precious O2 in your lungs and enjoy weight being lifted off of you. Literally. 

You had forgot and now remembered his biceps are the size of your head when he props onto his elbows, bright blue eyes staring directly into yours. 

“Luvie, I’m not John Mactavish to you. Am I?” 

“No. But,” you shuffle to get around but he doesn’t budge. Dammit. “You are a furnace. Heavy, hard, and exuding only heat.” 

Instantly you regret saying that, recognizing the glint in his eyes. 

“Heavy and hard, aye?”  

One hand to cover your burning face, you use the other to smack his chest. You and your stupid mouth. Him and his stupid, smug, smirk. Chuckling, he moves and gets comfortable before snuggling you again. At least he’s being mindful this time, making sure you aren’t feeling as if you’re being flattened into a pancake. As for you, you nuzzle your face into the junction where his neck and shoulder meet. It’s going to take a while for you to function, the embarrassment still fresh and searing your soul. 

Kim Hong Jin "Horangi"

You swear you’re dating a giant cat, not a tiger. The ones that enjoy pushing a glass off the table while you’re looking and begging with your eyes not to. Smiling as some crying lady points at them over a salad. 

You’ve been shoving and pushing him by the shoulders, and so far you’ve successfully freed half of your upper body (more like that’s the only leeway he’s willing to give but you choose to ignore that).

“Hong Jin.” You pant between each word, exhausted and having much of your strength sapped out of you. “You need to let go.”

“싫은데?“ (Don’t want to?) 

…This man and his nerves. 

“No, seriously.” You nudge him, hoping it would get your message across. “I can’t even feel my legs.”

“Just five more minutes.” His groan coming out muffled from him burying his face into your tummy. 

Five minutes ago he said that. Which was also what he said five minutes before that. Now you’re uncomfortable, feeling the half of you he’s holding onto sweat while the other feels chilly from the sudden loss of heat. Worst is how effortless it is for him to keep you still, lazily lying on top of you being enough to stop you from worming yourself out. Like sure, you do enjoy how well-built he is but not like this! 

Sucking a breath in, you go back trying to pry yourself off as he stays where he is, eyes closed and a grin plastered on his face. 

König 

A king-size mattress. That’s what he is. And certainly feels that way too with how he easily engulfs both you and the bed. 

“Konig.” You gently shake him, only for him to turn his head. 

You don’t know whether to laugh or cry though, at the moment, it would hurt if you do either. Every time you try calling him out or getting his attention, he’d turn his head where he’d lie on one cheek then flip to the other. He doesn’t even make a sound. No harrumphs, grunts, or a sigh. All of you wanted to do was go get ready since the two of you are supposed to meet with his friends. Now? Not happening. 

“We need to get ready. It’s already quarter past five.” 

He squeezes your waist in response, snuggling himself into you. Just like a petulant kid, thinking if he doesn’t say anything and pretends to not hear you, you would stop. You try to slip from being underneath him, not enjoying being the filling in the mattress sandwich. Unfortunately for you, fortunately for him, you give up in less than ten seconds realizing how much you’d have to go through to just get a hand out. 

You raise your hand to place it on his shoulder until he stops you by grabbing at the wrist. He drags and presses it against his cheek, making you feel stubbles under your fingertips. Biting your lip, you close your eyes and mentally count from ten. 

“You better text them we’re not going.” You grumble, cupping his face in your hands. 

“Already did.”

You shake your head. This man. 

[nochepsicodelica]

Bear Boyfriend Toji returns. ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ <- Hell yeah, that's the clingy thing <3

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ᕦʕ •`ᴥ•´ʔᕤ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Don't let him catch you wearing his clothes, unless you want him relentlessly tailing you for the rest of the day until you both go to sleep. It's one thing to put his shirt on to go to bed, but it's a whole other thing to wear it in broad daylight, while cleaning the house, cooking, folding and putting away your laundry, etc. He will follow you and try to corner you as you make your way around, trying to get all these things finished. You have to be very strong-willed in order to duck under his arms and escape him when he tries to seduce you by caging you against the wall. It doesn't deter him when you leave him standing there with his hands still planted on the wall. He laughs it off, mutters something under his breath about you being a tease and keeps chasing you, his prize.

Cooking is the hardest thing to do in his clothes. You're literally working with fire, sharp knives, and multitasking it up, while he's clinging to you and whispering in your ear all the filthy things he wants to do to you while you wear his shirt. You're crying your eyes out while you cut an onion and when you ask him to watch the pot, he Toji Taxes you. Says, "Yeah, sure, I'll stir... For two kisses and a squeeze." Unbelievable, but you need that help, so with a much called for roll of your stinging, bleary eyes, you make your way to him and let him take what he wants in exchange for his assistance. After one very long squeeze to your boob over his shirt and two kisses, he happily has a wooden spoon in his hand. Indulging him in his demands only fueled his desire to get you back in his grasp. It's that damn shirt, it fits like a short dress on you. Another thing he loves is that if you reach high enough for something, he gets a peek at the mere pair of underwear you're sporting under it.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ᕦʕ •`ᴥ•´ʔᕤ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ When it rains, good luck getting this bear of a man off of/away from you. It's hard enough to get out of bed on a daily basis because of how he constantly drags you back until he's ready to get out of bed, but rainy days are something else entirely. It's cold, the sky is gloomy, everything is wet, and worst of all... the chances of getting wet socks are much, much higher. It's not his favorite, but the one thing that makes it all better is you, so his clinginess is on another level—it's really like he's being powered by the storm.

He loves when your schedules align during this kind of weather. Neither of you has to leave the house for work, so there are no alarms set and you both wake up at your own times. Days like this transition from being wrapped up in each other until your stomachs start growling, to putting on big sweaters that smell like him, so that you can run to the car together through the heavy rain, to get something to eat. Once you return, you make that same run through the rain to get back to your home and you both head straight for the bedroom, where you are once again made his prisoner and caged in his arms for the duration of your afternoon nap.

He doesn't want to leave the bed anymore, and that extends to him not wanting you to leave either, even when you say you have to pee. "Hold it, mama. We're still sleeping." "I've been holding it for half an hour." "Shh... If you last the whole hour, we'll go make that coffee you were chirping about, earlier." He definitely chides you when you can't fall asleep later at night, but is more than ready to help you in any way that expedites the process.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ᕦʕ •`ᴥ•´ʔᕤ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ With how long you've been together, it's to be expected that you feel safe around Toji, but there are just moments where he stands back and thinks about the things you do that demonstrate how emotionally and physically comfortable you are with him. He's glad that you see him as your confidant and that you don't feel the need to dial down your feelings, just so that he can easily digest what is going on with you. He's a strong man, he can handle your tears of varying emotions, so, when you come home from a terrible day at work or you feel like you are losing your mind, because nothing is going right, he openly invites you to plop yourself on him and just lie there until you're ready to talk out what has you feeling the way you do. You don't have to say anything until you are ready, but if his presence comforts you and helps you relax a little more, he prefers that you seek him out for solace.

The physical aspect of feeling safe around him is shown in many ways, like when you fall asleep on him or even just fall asleep around him. You trust that he will look out for you during these moments of vulnerability and he does. He can easily tell when a nightmare is preventing you from getting good sleep and he does not wait for you to wake up in tears to comfort you, because what is being abruptly woken up, to enduring uncontrollable fear your mind creates?

When you go out together, even just being subtly maneuvered so that you are walking on the inside of the sidewalk, makes you feel protected. You already get automatic scary bear privilege with him, so you rarely feel like you are endangered by others, but the little things he does are very much considered and appreciated, too. Like, when you're walking through a large crowd and he holds your hand tight or he hooks his arm around your waist and pulls you into his side, so that you don't get lost. Or when he switches places with you and becomes a barrier between you and the group of sketchy looking men walking by.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ᕦʕ •`ᴥ•´ʔᕤ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ This bear loves when you fly at him like a dart and tackle him or at least try to tackle him after a long day of not seeing each other. Sometimes he'll stumble back on purpose just to make you laugh when he says something along the lines of "woah there, pretty girl. We almost went through the wall." It's gotten to be a routine for whenever you come home from work before him. As soon as he shuts the door, he's silently and slowly turning around, throwing a smirk at you in anticipation of you jumping on him. Sometimes, he crouches down slightly and scoops you up before you even have the chance to try and knock him over. The way you laugh as he carries you back to where you were lying on the couch, while he rapid fires kisses onto your face, is everything. This is definitely one of his favorite parts about coming home to you.

Before anything, you read Toji's body language, because sometimes there are days that don't call for this kind of silliness. Like when the door shuts, signaling that he's finally home, but he lets out a tired, heavy sigh. You greet him in a much calmer manner, simply walking up to him and asking him how his day went and if he wants to freshen up before he eats dinner—questions of that sort—while still being mindful of not overwhelming him with too many of them. It's very much about reading his mood, but also attempting to lift it by doing things like reminding him that he's about to eat one of his favorite meals, even when you know he knows, because the entire house is flooded with the aroma, or telling him about a new little food spot that you saw on your way home from work and suggesting you go try it together sometime.

Most of the time, you're able to lighten up his mood, and if it's not before you go to the bedroom, it's while you're lying in bed together, getting ready to go to sleep. Quiet investigative murmurs reach his ears, while his head rests on your chest. You play with his hair to ensure that he feels calm and secure enough to talk this out with you, and he usually does cave and spills what's on his mind. It's mainly tiredness and work being a stressful hassle at times, inevitably preventing him from getting home to you when he's supposed to. He feels better once he gets it all off his chest and sleeps like a cub, attached to you, as always.

NSFW Below

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ᕦʕ •`ᴥ•´ʔᕤ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Dirty bear, dirty bear, dirty bear! He has more wet dreams about you than he would ever admit. It makes him feel ridiculous, given the consistency and then some, of the amount of times you and him have sex in a week. His mind is so greedy, already cluttered with images and moments with you, yet it continues to create more scenarios while he sleeps, giving him these "humbling experiences". Sometimes he has to get up in the middle of night—under the guise of going to use the bathroom—to change his boxers, because he ruined them with an involuntary overflow of cum and he needs to hide the evidence. It's something he gets all bashful and "c'mon, Toji..." about, while he's cleaning himself up, but when he catches you in the middle of experiencing a wet dream, he thinks it's the hottest thing ever. For a few seconds, it's just you grinding against the covers, quietly mumbling his name, before you still, again. And oh, he's a hypocrite. He will tease the living hell out of you about it when you wake up, his sleep ridden voice bombarding you with questions like... "How'd you sleep?" "Dream anything interesting?" "Who was there?" "What did I do that had you all riled up?" "Was dream me realistic enough to make you cum?"

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ᕦʕ •`ᴥ•´ʔᕤ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ This enormous, "intimidating man"—in the words of others—does not mind at all if you wake him up in the middle of the night because you need him. Especially, if you wake him up by pressing soft, butterfly kisses to his lips. He's willing to do anything you ask of him if that's how you ask for it. All it takes is a sultry, whispered "Please," from you and he's sitting up, getting ready to fulfill your needs. He doesn't even need to ask you what you need, the way you flip over to lay on your stomach and raise your oversized shirt over your hips, revealing your panties to him, tells him everything.

Toji is sure that this is just going to lull both of you back to sleep, but he does it for your sake. He goes for the usual position that these spontaneous sparks of nightly desire call for—prone bone. Even during the early hours of morning, with both of you still half asleep, the act keeps its intimacy. His face is pressed close to the side of yours, his nose brushing your cheek as sloppy, lazy kisses meet your skin. His hands go to the backs of yours, interlacing his fingers with yours on your pillow.

Short, languid rolls of his hips against you are what you receive, and it's enough, because your body is so sensitive after having just woken up, that it tricks you into feeling like he's giving you way more. It's all quiet, shuddered breathing, until you release the cutest little whimpers and cries into your pillow, once you cum. The way your cunt clenches and spasms around his cock has him releasing deep groans into your ear, as he nears his own climax. Slightly more punctuated thrusts that jolt you into the mattress and heavier breaths, are followed by thick spurts of cum that brim your walls. For a second or two, you feel like he might break your fingers from how hard he's squeezing them, but the pain vanishes, and you're distracted from the fact that it was ever there when his arms envelop you and his lips smear wet kisses over the side of your face, again. A quiet check in is conducted, and when you confirm that you're fine and you feel good, he fully relaxes and just slumps on you. You both end up falling back asleep just like that.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ᕦʕ •`ᴥ•´ʔᕤ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ He loves having hush hush sex at least once a week. He takes you out to places where there are lots of people—a restaurant, for example—he'll move his chair so that he's sitting beside you, and he'll start touching you under the table. He relishes in the fluctuation of your composure, the way you nibble on your lip while nervously looking around, how your eyes shut tightly just before you shudder out a sigh and let your head hang, your knuckles protruding as much as they can without tearing through your skin.

The sight of you quickly spending all your grounding techniques, goes straight to his dick, and it's not long before things are moved to the bathroom. He won't do the whole, i'll meet you in the bathroom in five minutes, scene. He really doesn't care who sees you two, so he's dragging you along with him to the men's bathroom, hand in hand. He'll check to see if it's all clear, and if it is, he'll pull you into the bathroom and lock the door, immediately pinning you to the door. You're lured into the sloppiest make out session ever. While one hand is bunching up your dress, the other is going under it to feel up your chest and the rest of your torso. Then the bumping against the door begins and your moans are being shushed by him. "Your pretty moans are for me, right?" "Mhm." "Keep it that way. No louder than this, or i'll stuff my fingers in your mouth so no one gets to hear them."

Of course the people outside know what you did. It's a couple coming out of the men's bathroom together, and the woman is clinging to her man, while she walks back to her table with very obviously trembling legs. Once Toji helps you get back into your seat, he digs into his lukewarm meal, as if nothing ever happened. He smiles all lovingly as you pick up your fork with a shaky hand and start eating as well.

[bitebitekxll]

Do they purr - genshin non-humans

៚ Zhongli ✧ Xiao ✧ Wanderer ✧ Albedo ✧ Venti

Notes: Holy hell how do I have 50 followers??? THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR SUPPORTING MY SILLY MUSINGS. This literally was just my way to learn how to write smut and post self-indulgent head canons but I’m glad people are enjoying this with me :DDDD

𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈 ᥫ᭡

Yes, 100%. He will deny it every time but lay on this man’s chest, maybe press a kiss to his jaw, and his chest is going like a fucking engine. He will insist that it’s not a purr, it’s simply a content growl— or perhaps a rumble, at most. He isn’t some measly cat, after all, he is a mighty dragon, the Prime Adeptus—

It’s definitely a purr.

Get him a cat ear hairband. He will give you the most long-suffering, unamused look while he wears them, but he will wear them. Anything for his beloved ♡~

𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎 ᥫ᭡

No, unfortunately. You have found no evidence that your stone-faced Yaksha is capable of emitting a purr, or purr-like sound (though certainly not for lacking of trying).

However… there is the matter of whether he is able to trill or coo like a bird, given that is his true nature.

He gets annoyed when you ask him, adamant that is not something he can do, and how dare you even entertain such a notion. Have you no respect for the adepti? Hmph.

…but you swear you’ve heard him chirp when you catch him off guard: kissing him without warning or praising him unabashedly.

It seems this will require further investigation.

𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀 ᥫ᭡

Not purring, but whirring!! Got this idea from @seabirdtxt ‘s Glitch in Irminsul fic (it’s SAGAU focused on the diff vers of scara existing at the same time, go read it it’s great) and it just makes so much sense to me.

As a mechanical puppet, and an advanced one at that, Scara has tons of machinery going on inside of him. Though it usually can’t be heard, if you get especially close to his chest— a privilege only reserved for you and maybe Nahida during hugs —you can hear the whirring and clicking of his moving parts inside. It doesn’t sound the same as a purr, not exactly, but it’s pretty damn close.

Most of the time it’s pretty faint, but sometimes Scara might just make it louder— it’s got nothing to do with the way your face lights up or how you smile when you hear it, don’t be stupid.

Of course, the only way he can make the noise louder is by overworking his system, making the parts inside move faster than they’re supposed to. If he does it too much or for too long, well…

You’ll know it’s time to lecture him on taking better care of himself when he starts burning up. Overheating is the first sign he’s about to overload his system and shut down (or from everyone else’s perspective: pass out).

You’re the only one who can make him stupid enough to be willing to break his own mechanisms just to see that adorable ridiculous expression on your face. (He might come back to his senses in a petulant huff if you start calling him a cat, tho)

𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐎 ᥫ᭡

Sadly, purring is not a feature homunculi come with. But this is Albedo we’re talking about, he can definitely figure it out.

He won’t tell you just what idea you’ve sparked with your question— you always worry when he starts self-experimenting —but it’ll be fine! He takes all the necessary precautions, limits any risk, because there’s always some risk in life, and downs a concoction or two in his quest to see if he can change the makeup of his own body. As an artificial life form, he’s less delicate than an organic one, so he doesn’t need to worry about pesky issues like rearranging his (non-existent) organs in a fatal manner.

And it works! Well, sort of. You come back home to a boyfriend that is fully capable of purring!! And also!! Has, uh, cat ears…

Albedo would consider it a success— he accomplished his goal, even if there were a few side effects. And you get a pretty catboy equipped with the cute, twitching ears and a fuzzy blonde tail; everybody wins! ♡

Of course, there’s always the chance his experiment just turns him into a cat entirely… but it wears off after a day or so, so it’s not the worst thing Albedo’s done to himself.

Either way, congratulations, he can now purr for the next 24 hours. And regardless of his cat-to-boy ratio, he will be expecting pets. Get to it~

𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈 ᥫ᭡

He has bird vocalisations! Except he’s worse at hiding it then Xiao may or may not be. It’s not outright chirping, but it is a cooing trill in the back of his throat, too vibrational to be a regular hum.

It’s the sound he makes when he’s perfectly content, laying in a warm patch of sun on the soft grass, sat atop a roof with alcohol warming his veins, and curled up in your arms, round cheek smushed against your chest. He takes in a deep breath, filling his lungs with your scent, and then releasing it in a sigh, accompanied by the musical tones of his little trill.

He makes shorter ones when he’s pleasantly surprised; when you unexpectedly toss him an apple or pat his head. He’ll grin or lean into the touch and make that sound in his throat. Too quiet to be heard by the people around you over the din of the town, but you’ll hear it. It’s a sound just for you ♡

[sceletaflores]

ghosts, ghouls, goblins, and other things that go bump in the night!

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4.5k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, drinking, resident bestie diva wade wilson, matching costumes ofc, established relationship, p in v, semi-public sex (bathroom), rough sex, mirror sex, gratuitous amounts of dirty talk, light degradation, light hair pulling, light choking, nasty dirty breeding kink (@guiltyasdave infected me with the breeding kink disease...it's all her fault), 4k words for straight up porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: happy halloween! sort of...i obvi couldn't wait to post this until the actual day cause i have absolutely zero patience so here you go! i thought up this idea in the middle of the night and literally got out of bed to start it. it's a nasty self indulgent mess...hope you love it! kisses <3

cutie divider by icon @saradika-graphics!

you and logan have some fun at wade's halloween party...

Unsurprising to no one, Wade Wilson knows how to throw a party. 

Every year since the two of you became neighbors, you’ve gotten a gaudy invitation decorated with cartoon bats and devils slipped under your door just in time for Halloween.

Of course, it’s always in some cheesy font, red and glittery. A crappy pun about “scaring up some fun with your favorite mercenary” with a return address listed as ‘Hell’s Playground’ inscribed on the front.

It's awful. You haven’t missed one yet.

And not just because you’re a sucker for free booze and cheap decorations. It’s like tradition now, you can't have your perfect attendance streak cut off four years in. That's just bad manners.

Besides, this is the first year you’ve gotten to do a couples costume.

“I look fuckin’ ridiculous,” Logan mutters, deep voice laced with irritation as he messes with the wolf ears perched awkwardly on his head. “Can’t believe I let you drag me to this thing.”

You don’t turn to face him, but you can still see the frown tugging his lips down in your mind. Logan’s never been one for costumes, but his options were either dress up or stay home while you went and had fun without him.

He was dead set on staying at home for most of the day.

One look at the frilly white bloomers that came with your costume and he changed his tune.

“Quit being such a baby,” you toss over your shoulder, pouring your second cup of whatever Wade mixed together in the mini cauldron sitting on his bar. “You look great, babe.”

He really shouldn’t complain, his costume is barely a costume. An old flannel with the sleeves ripped off and some mangy jeans.

The fake ears and tail were a struggle and a half to get him on board with, but Logan’s all bark and no bite. He was more than willing to roll over and show you his belly after enough begging.

Logan scoffs, big hand pawing at your hip to drag you to his side. “You owe me for this,” he rumbles low in your ear, the playful threat sending a shiver down your spine.

“You’ll survive,” you tease, a smug grin spreading across your face as you tug playfully on the tail clipped to his belt loop. “Unless you wanted to switch?”

Logan’s eyes drag over your body shamelessly, all the way from the floppy sheep ears sitting on your head to the lacy white corset and matching bloomers that do little to hide your curves. 

You don’t miss the way his eyes darken, how he runs his tongue along the sharp point of his canines like he wants to sink his teeth into you.

It sends a familiar heat coursing through your veins, warming your insides just as much as the vodka with a hint of mixer you’ve been sipping at.

You start to wish you shelled out for the fake fangs at the party store.

Logan tugs you closer, his lips curling into a slow, predatory smirk. “Not a chance in hell,” he rasps, voice dipping a couple octaves lower. “Looks better on you, baby.”

You hum idly as his arm snakes around your waist, fingers splayed along your lower back, inching dangerously close to the swell of your ass.

“You better behave,” you chastise, though it’s more playful than stern as you look up at him through your lashes. “We’re in public.”

Logan’s grip tightens, a soft grunt leaving him as he leans in, nosing along the side of your face. “Doesn’t seem like much of a party when all I’m thinkin’ about is how fast I can get you outta this damn costume.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks, the warm puff of his breath over your skin makes your knees feel weak. You try to keep your cool, but it’s hard when he’s practically radiating heat and that intoxicating scent of leather and pine fills your senses. 

Before you can respond, a loud call of your name grabs your attention. 

"There you are!" Wade shouts from across the room, already making his way towards you.

All six foot two and half inches of him is wrapped in blue and white lace, paired with a matching hoop skirt that bounces with every step he takes. His shepherd's staff thuds against the floor when he comes to a stop in front of you. “Fashionably late, I see.”

“We’ve been here for thirty minutes,” you point out, brow cocked as you take in his costume. “Where’ve you been?”

“I’m the hostess with the mostest, honey bunny,” he says, throwing his arm out to gesture towards all the dressed up guests crammed into his living room. “Can’t spread myself too thin.”

He eyes Logan's wolf ears and fake tail, then turns back to you, wiggling his brows suggestively. 

"Kinky,” he comments, flicking the little gold bell hanging from the choker around your neck. “You two just couldn’t resist a little predator-prey roleplay, huh? Should I be worried about you getting all ‘Animal Planet’ on my couch?”

Logan’s grip on your waist tightens, his mouth brushing your ear as he mutters, “I’m gonna kill him before midnight.”

“Now, now, big bad wolf, no need to huff and puff and blow my skirt up. We’re all here to have a howl of a time!” Wade continues, undeterred. “Plus, if you behave, I might just let you keep your sheep when the night’s over.”

You can practically feel Logan’s eye twitch, but you snicker, leaning into him just a little more. “Play nice, Wade,” you say, trying to smother your laugh. “The wolf might eat you first.”

“Please,’ Wade snorts, twirling his shepherd's staff deftly in his hand. “If that’s on the table, I’ll lay out the fucking fine china.”

Logan lets out a huff of air, dropping his hold on you and brushing past Wade with a grunt. "I'm gettin' another beer."

“Try not to stab anyone!” Wade shouts after him, loud enough to be heard over the Monster Mash blaring from the speakers. “Al might blow the whole complex if any more blood gets on the linoleum!”

Logan throws a middle finger over his shoulder as he disappears into the kitchen. 

You watch him go, a grin plastered to your face at the way the tail swings with every step he takes. Something warm and fuzzy settles in your chest, blooming in the empty space of your ribcage.

You know Logan hates this–the people, the lights, the music, the costumes.

But he’s here anyway, for you.

Here wearing the stupid wolf costume you bought for him, surrounded by drunk people in inflatable dinosaur costumes and witches with dollar-store broomsticks. And despite all the grumbling, he hasn’t bolted for the door once.

All for you. And that makes your heart thump a little harder in your chest, your smirk softening into something sweeter.

"You’ve got him whipped," Wade deadpans, crossing his arms, the lace of his sleeves rustling as he does. “It’s really disgusting.”

You snort, shaking your head softly. "More like he's got a soft spot."

Wade eyes you skeptically. "Same thing, toots."

You hum noncommittally, turning back to him. “Cute outfit,” you comment, eyeing the white bonnet secured by a neat little bow under his chin.

“You like it?” Wade does a quick twirl, the blonde curls of his wig nearly slap you across the face as he does. “The guy at party city kept giving me weird looks, but I think he was just jealous of how well I fill in the blouse.”

You rake your gaze over him slowly, taking another slow sip from your cup. “The stockings are a nice touch, but don’t you think running around as Little Bo Peep will send some confusing messages.”

“Well, duh. That’s only the whole point, Sherlock.” Wade snorts, shaking his head like it’s obvious. “I’m way too emotionally invested in this relationship to not try and wiggle my way into throuple territory.”

You can’t help but laugh, rolling your eyes. “A throuple? Hate to break it to you, Peep, but Logan doesn’t really strike me as the sharing type.”

Wade leans in conspiratorially, cupping a hand around his mouth like he’s letting you in on a secret. “That’s why I’m playing the long game. Gotta wear him down with my irresistible charm, and when he finally snaps, I’ll swoop in with a bottle of Jack and a promise of no strings attached.”

You shake your head, chuckling into your drink. “You’ve got it all figured out, don't you?”

“Oh, honey,” Wade purrs, winking at you with a dramatic flutter of his lashes, “I've got a five-year plan.”

You roll your head to the side lazily, sheep ears swaying as you do. “I’ll give you points for persistence.”

"Damn straight," he says with a grin, straightening his bonnet proudly. “This level of commitment takes stamina. And by the way, I’ve got great stamina. My record is thirteen.”

You raise your brow, intrigued. “Thirteen what? Rounds? Hours?”

“Wouldn't you like to know,” he scoffs indignantly, rolling his eyes. “I’m more than just a pretty face in a killer dress, thank you very much.”

You groan, giving him a light push. "You’re impossible."

Wade grins, leaning closer to throw an arm around your shoulders. “I’m just pulling your tail, Wooly. You know I’d never come between you and your beefy boy toy. I mean, look at him. He’s practically pacing the kitchen like a caged animal just looking at you in your slutty nursery rhyme getup. How pathetic.”

You turn to steal a glance at Logan, who’s leaned against the counter scanning the room from behind his beer bottle. You feel a thrill at the idea that he’s watching over you like a hawk, making sure no one gets too close, slowly working himself up over the mere sight of you. 

But more than that, it’s the slight reluctant smirk tugging at his lips as he takes in the party. You can tell he’s managing to find some enjoyment in all this, even if he’d never admit it.

“Well,” Wade starts, dragging the word out slowly. “Since you’re all cozy over here with your alpha male, I’m gonna go find someone to share these…”

He holds up two shot glasses filled with some unidentifiable neon liquid, “…artisanal beverages with. Maybe that guy dressed like a merman. I’ve always wanted to see what's going on under those tails.”

You snort, raising your own cup to your lips. "You're awful."

“Only on the outside, sugar,” he says leaning down to kiss your cheek with a wet smack before flouncing away into the crowd, his skirt swishing as he goes. “Don’t fuck in my house without at least inviting me to watch!”

You laugh to yourself, watching as Wade fades into the crowd of gyrating bodies. You take another long sip, relishing in the familiar burn as it slips down your throat.

The laughter, the music, the chaotic energy of the party—it’s all intoxicating in its own right, but it’s nothing compared to the way Logan’s eyes are boring a hole through the back of your head.

You can feel his gaze like a tangible force, wrapping around you and drawing you in. Logan’s not just watching; he’s assessing, hungry for something that goes far beyond the Halloween festivities surrounding you.

The heat radiating from his gaze only intensifies your already buzzing anticipation, mixing dangerously with the two drinks swirling in your stomach, making you bolder.

You throw back the rest of your drink, setting the empty cup on the bar and making your way across the room. You weave through the crowd seamlessly, the music pulses around you, drowning out the laughter and chatter.

You feel a daring grin spread across your face as you saunter closer, reveling in the way Logan tracks your every move like a predator zeroing in on its prey. 

When you’re finally standing in front of him, you lean against the counter, giving him a good view of the way your corset dips lower. The fabric hugs you in all the right places, teasing him with glimpses of your skin beneath the delicate lace. 

"Looks like Little Bo Peep lost his sheep," he mutters, voice like gravel drenched in honey.

You smirk, tilting your head to the side innocently as you step around the counter. “Maybe I was already planning to run away, to go looking for a big bad wolf to play with.”

You slip two fingers through the belt loop at the front of his jeans, tugging him closer with a rough yank.

Logan’s goes willingly, taking a step closer. His breath hitches as he does, the hazel of his eyes darkening as you press your body against his, not letting an inch of space between you.

“You're really pushin it,” he warns lowly, hands finding your waist, fingers digging in hard enough to send a shiver cascading down your spine. "Makin’ me watch you run around in this fuckin’ thing.”

“Am I?” you reply coyly, fingers toying with the button of his jeans. “I’m just—” you start, but the words are swallowed by the thumping bass of the music as Logan’s lips crash against yours, silencing you with a hungry kiss.

His mouth moves against yours with a fervor that leaves you breathless, and you can’t help but melt into him, feeling the world around you fade away.

The taste of beer mingles with the vodka on your tongue as you sink into the kiss, his hands tightening around you as he pulls you even closer.

“You have no fuckin’ idea how hard it is keepin’ my hands to myself,” he murmurs against your lips, his breath hot and heavy. 

“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea,” you tease, biting your lip as you pull back just enough to meet his gaze. You can see the fire smoldering in his eyes, the predatory glint that makes your stomach flutter with excitement. “But maybe you could show me just how hard it really is.”

Logan lets out a low growl, and before you can blink, he’s snatching your wrist up and dragging you through the kitchen. 

Laughter bubbles out from your chest as you trip over your own feet in an attempt to keep up with him. Adrenaline pulses through your veins, the warmth in your stomach dipping lower to leak sticky and wet between your thighs.

He’s not rushing, but there’s an undeniable urgency in his step, a raw need that makes your pulse race in sync with his heavy stride. Weaving you through the crowd and out into the hallway until the noise of the party gets lower and lower. 

You’re familiar enough with the layout of Wade’s place to know where Logan’s taking you, the bathroom.

The door is hardly shut before Logan’s spinning you around and crowding you against the sink. His lips are on you before you can even catch your breath, rough and possessive, as if he’s been starving for this all night. 

The kiss is rougher than before, dirty and all consuming as he claims your mouth. A mess of teeth and tongue and spit that sends your head spinning, body arching off the counter and into his instinctively. 

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he growls, trailing his lips down your neck, kissing and biting his way to your collarbone. “Drivin’ me so crazy, baby.”

You bite your lip, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as his calloused fingers trace over the swell of your breasts, kneading the soft flesh with a possessive grip that makes your breath hitch. 

Your arms circle his neck, dragging him down for more filthy kisses. The thick length of his cock pressing against your stomach insistently has you keening, a hard plane of scalding warmth even through the thick material of his jeans.

You let out a soft whimper as his fingers brush against your inner thigh, and he grins at your reaction.

He leans in, his breath hot against your ear. "Bet you’re already soaked for me, aren’t you?" His voice drops even lower, a filthy rasp that sends a jolt of heat straight to your core.

You don’t answer, can’t answer, because Logan’s already got his hand between your thighs, fingers teasing over the soft fabric of your bloomers.

His touch is feather-light, but it’s enough to have you gasping, head lolling back to expose even more of your neck to his fever hot lips.

He groans when he feels how soaked you are, his breath coming out in a rough exhale.

“Figures,” he grunts, his fingers pressing harder, rubbing slow circles over the slick fabric. “Could smell it on you from across the room. You’re fuckin’ drippin’ for me, baby.”

You whine, high in the back of your throat, chest heaving with every quick breath. Your legs spread, thighs widening like you can’t help it. His words send a wave of heat straight to your core, fanning the fire of need festering inside you. 

“Next year we’ll get you in a skirt,” he says, nipping at your bottom lip teasingly. His fingers slip under your bloomers, running through your slick folds teasingly. “Easy access.”

You let out a breathless moan, your hips bucking against his hand, begging for more.

“Logan,” you whimper, but he just smirks, applying more pressure with his palm as he leans in closer, his mouth hovering over your ear.

“You like that, don’t you?” Logan rasps, his voice thick with desire. Dark tone laced with satisfaction as he dips one finger inside you, making your breath catch in your throat. “Look at you, drippin’ down my hand. You want more, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you nod frantically, your breath coming in shallow pants as he continues working you with skilled, relentless touches.

Two thick fingers plunged in your aching pussy, his thumb rubbing over your swollen clit. "Please," you whimper, gripping the edge of the sink so tight your knuckles turn with it, needing more, needing him to ruin you. 

“Please what, honey?” he rasps, leaning in to press a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You gotta be more specific.”

You grind against his hand faster, desperate for any kind of relief from the unbearable heat building between your legs. “I need you,” you breathe out, your voice trembling. “Need you to fuck me.”

Logan’s response is immediate. A low growl tearing its way from his throat as he gives your bottoms a rough tug, letting them fall down the length of your legs to pool at your ankles.

He slips his fingers out of you, ignoring your displeased whine and spinning you around to face the mirror, hands gripping your hips as he roughly bends you over the sink.

You find his eyes in the reflection, and the hunger there makes your pulse quicken. His lips are swollen, red and slick just like your own. Hazel eyes blown out and stormy, as he meets your gaze.

The fake whiskers and nose you drew on him before the party using an old eyeliner pen are smudged across the lower half of his face along with the red remnants of your lipstick. You have matching black marks scuffed along your cheeks.

"You’re gonna watch while I fuck you," he growls, popping the button of his jeans and pulling them down just enough to free his cock. He strokes himself once, twice, before lining up behind you, dragging the blunt head along your soaked entrance. "Don’t take your eyes off the mirror, baby. I want you to see what you do to me, what I get to see every fuckin’ time."

You nod breathlessly, eyes locked on his in the mirror as he pushes into you with one hard thrust. You gasp at the stretch, head falling to your chin at the pleasant burn of his cock.

"Fuck," Logan groans, his eyes glued to your reflection as he bottoms out inside you, the sheer size of him making your body tremble.

"Tight little fuckin’ pussy," he mutters, his grip on your hips tightening as he starts to move, setting a brutal, unrelenting pace. "You were made for this, weren’t you? Made to take my cock."

You can’t stop the moans that fall from your slack lips, pathetic little uh uh uh sounds that get punched out of you with every sharp thrust of his hips.

“Take me so fuckin’ well,” he growls, one hand coming up to grip around your throat, tugging meanly at the bell of your choker that rings as he pounds into you, each thrust harder than the last. “Such a good little sheep, lettin’ your mean old wolf fuck you like this.”

 "Fuck," you moan, the sound broken and desperate as he drives deeper, the thick length of him hitting that spot that has your knees buckling beneath you. “God, Logan…”

“Look,” Logan commands softly, reverently. His lips brushing your shoulder with every word as he tilts your head back up to the mirror, making yourself watch as you take his cock. “Look at how fuckin’ pretty you are getting wrecked on my cock.”

Your reflection in the mirror is a mess—flushed cheeks, eyes glassy with lust, your lips parted in a constant stream of breathless moans. You feel embarrassment mixing with the arousal swirling through your stomach, thighs shaking wildly from the onslaught of pleasure.

The loud slap of skin on skin rings through the tiny bathroom, underscored by the wet gush of your pussy around him each time he buries himself in you.

If anyone were to walk by, they’d surely hear it. They’d know someone was getting fucked, really taking it. The thought alone has you tightening around Logan’s cock, velvety walls clenching around him desperately. 

Logan notices, because of course he does, clever eyes picking up on the way your own drift to the door, lingering.

He threads his fingers through your hair, meanly yanking your head back to the mirror, a feral grin stretching across his face as he watches the way you fall apart for him. 

“Want me to howl for you, baby?” he teases, breath hot against the shell of your ear. You can feel the way his lips curve into an evil grin at the pathetic whine that bursts from your lips, at the feel of your pussy drooling around him even more than before.  

“She likes that, huh?” he chuckles darkly, his thumb finds your throbbing clit, rubbing tight circles as his hips speed up impossibly faster. “Dirty fuckin’ girl, you want everyone to know how good I’m givin’ it to you?”

You whimper, overwhelmed by the raw intensity of his words and the rhythm of his thrusts. Your thighs are trembling, barely able to hold you up as Logan takes you apart, piece by piece, with every deep, punishing stroke.

"Answer me," he growls, voice dripping with dominance as his hips snap against you, the head of his cock slamming into that perfect spot inside you again and again. "You want everyone to hear what a dirty little slut you are for me, huh? You want them to know how much you love being fucked like this?"

“Yes,” you gasp, your voice shaky and breathless as pleasure floods your system. "Yes, Logan, fuck—ah! Just—just don’t stop."

Logan growls, low and feral deep in his chest. It shakes through your body, rattling your bones just as much as the heavy smack of his metal laced pelvis against the raw skin of your ass.

“Greedy fuckin’ pussy, I can feel the way she’s sucking me in, baby,” he grits out, hips stuttering slightly. “She want my come, darlin’?"

You’re a mess of gasps and whimpers, nodding frantically as his words push you closer to the edge. Throwing your hips back to meet his thrusts as the spring inside you coils tighter and tighter, a hair's breadth away from snapping.

"Yes, please, Logan," you moan, your fingers digging into the counter as you brace yourself for the relentless onslaught of his cock. "I want it, want you to come inside me." 

Logan’s hips stutter as he slams into you, his cock buried so deep inside you it feels like he’s splitting you in half. He’s close, his breath coming out in ragged pants as his hand tightens around your throat, fingers pressing against your pulse just hard enough to make you dizzy.

“You’re gonna come for me,” he growls, heavy balls slapping against your ass lewdly. “Gonna come all over my cock, aren’t you? And then I’m gonna fill you up. Gonna fuck my come so deep inside you, you’ll be beggin’ me to give you more.”

That’s all it takes for the coil in your belly to snap, pleasure surging through you in hot, uncontrollable waves. You cry out, your vision blurring as your body clenches around him, and Logan lets out a rough growl, driving into you harder, faster. 

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow, dragging out every last second of your orgasm until you’re shaking, your voice hoarse from how loud you’re moaning.

“Goddamn, baby,” he mutters, his voice thick with lust as he keeps fucking into your trembling body. “You’re squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight—gonna come so deep in you.”

Your breath is coming in short, desperate gasps, your entire body still shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm. But Logan isn’t finished. He used the fistful of your hair still trapped in his hand, tugging your head back to meet his wild gaze in the mirror. 

“Eyes on me,” he commands, his pace growing erratic. “You want me to fill you up? Want me to come in this tight little pussy?”

“Yes, Logan,” you manage to choke out, your voice barely a whisper. “Please—I need it.”

With a deep, broken groan of your name, Logan slams into you one last time, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you, hot and thick. His fingers tighten on your throat, and you moan at the feeling of his cock pulsing, filling you up to the brim. 

You can’t stop the whine that falls from your lips at the feel of his come spraying your insides, completely drenching you with it. So much that it just has to take.

A shudder runs through you at the idea, pussy clenching around his spent cock weakly.

Logan sighs contently, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder as he catches his breath, hands falling to your waist like it's the only anchor keeping him from floating away entirely.

For a moment, the only sounds in the room are your ragged breaths and the faint thump of the music outside bleeding through the walls.

Logan tips his head back up, meeting your hazy eyes in the fogged up glass of the mirror with a shit-eating grin. “Happy fuckin’ Halloween,” he says smugly, dropping a kiss to the sweaty skin of your shoulder. 

You huff, rolling your eyes with a reluctant fondness. The thought of walking back out there makes your stomach turn, nerves and arousal churning together at the chance that everyone knows what you two were doing after disappearing for so long.

You only hope the white fabric of your bloomers is good enough at hiding the come already leaking from your pussy.

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

[miniaturesuitgladiator]

One chance, will you succeed? II

Synopsis: being forced to live with your supposedly 'father' you have finally succumb to your fate. But what if you have one more chance to get out? But you'd have to sacrifice your pride for your future. Can you do that?

In school you had learned that a muskrat would chew off its own leg to get out of a trap.

You had mixed feelings about that at the time.

It was brave what the muskrat what doing, but it was also kind of stupid. Atleast that's what you thought.

But now looking at what position your in ,you begin feeling exactly how the muskrat must've felt when trap clamped down on it's leg.

Muskrat aren't that smart and they don't have hands. They wouldn't know how to take off the trap even if someone showed them.

Now, you feel exactly how the poor animal felt.

Helpless.

You wouldn't describe yourself as a helpless princess waiting to be saved. But you sure wouldn't deny anyone willing to help.

But alas you have no one to help you. So you have to do the dirty work instead and in doing so maybe lose a bit of pride and dignity.

But who's to blame you when this is the only option you have? Well, there's no one here to blame you or know what you're planning on doing...

Well except the desperate boy beneath you...

But not even he knows your true intentions and that's clear by the way he keeps his hands tightly around your hips.

As if he's scared you'd vanish if given the chance. (You would.)

His breaths comes out in whines and he can't help how his hips push up into yours. You can barely even tell what he's saying at this point something like "Please, I'll be good." But you don't really care either.

You should push him away since everything has gone to plan. Your tracks are covered there's nothing else to worry about...but what would be the fun in that?

"Your pathetic." You mutter but he hears it. And he doesn't even deny or try and defend himself. Because what's the point? Right now that's exactly what he is... Pathetic.

He squims beneath you trying to get any friction possible.

Being tired of his needy please you kiss him in hopes of shutting him up.

The kiss is rushed and you honestly just want it to be over but he holds your face firm against his keeping your lips locked together.

He kisses you roughly not daring to let go. His hold on the back of your head is firm and you wonder if he's actually trying to kill you by how your losing air.

Eventually he does let go and you both gasp for air and you see it in his eyes. His sick deluded eyes.....

He's inlove with you.

Now thats some deep shit. You had thought that his obsession was nothing deeper then him just wanting to know you.

But as you look into his baby blue eyes you can see it clear as day.

Your sure that if he was a cartoon there'd be literal hearts in his eyes.

He doesn't give you much thought on that though ,as he slightly pushes you off just slightly though. And you think that he's trying to get you off his lap but he's not.

You quickly try and get off but he stops you and keeps a firm hand on your hip as the other goes to unbuckle his pants.

You look at him confused did he really want it to go this far? Oh, who are you kidding of course he did! He's as pathetic as lovesick puppy.

He positions you right back onto his now very hard buldge and now the only thing that's separating you two is his boxers and your clothes.

"Don't stop....please?"

And when the hell did his voice get so cute when he's whining? You can see the tears of frustration and pure need on the edge of his eyes almost daring you to make them fall.

But then the gods above must've seen your position or maybe you just got lucky either way you aren't complaining.

'Ding!' Your phone goes off and Tim's to lost in the moment to even hear it. But you do and your quick to grab it.

And you ignore Tim's childish pout as you check the message.

'Sister, I require your assistance on this particular painting. Meet me in the art room ,immediately.' The texts reads and for once your actually glad that Damian texted you.

"Sorry I gotta go. Damian needs me." You mutter pushing his hands off your hips and standing up.

"You can't just leave like this....please?" Tim begs and he follows your action and stands up.

"I'm sure the brat doesn't need you that bad." He continues trying to reach for you but your quick to pull away.

"And if I don't go he'll come looking for me...and how would we explain what we were doing? Huh genius?" You say mockingly. You wanted what you were saying to hurt.

You wanted him to feel how you felt everyday inside the manor ,hurt.

"Of course the Demon brats a cockblocker too." Tim whispers under his breath but you don't hear him. No, your already out the door before he can try and persuade you to stay.

Walking down the hall and up some more stairs you found yourself at the door of the art room.

Only damian would demand your attention at 2am. But you can't act to suspicious or look like a mess.

So you make sure your hairs decent and your clothes are smoothed and take a deep breath before walking in.

Walking in Damian already standing infront of a canvas covering whatever is painted on it..

"What took you so long?" Damian asks his eyes never leaving the canvas.

"I was asleep, like you should be." You say adding a fake yawn to sell the act.

Damian scoffs rolling his eyes ,decideding to ignore the obviously fake yawn.

"Well art doesn't sleep, sister."

"Well your not art." You retort , voice still holding that same venom you've had ever since you met him. Or more like they forced you to meet him.

"You speak so little of me ,sister...as if you do not care." He says the pout on his face now very clear as he turns around to face you.

"I don't." You mutter under your breath as you scoff but you don't let him hear your words. No, you'd be a fool to do that. Last time you did that the outcome was not in your favor. So you say it quietly...

"What are you painting?" You ask as you move infront of him to look at the painted canvas.

Your movements are so fluid as if he's not there and that causes the small boy to pout even more.

"Don't you ever get tired of painting me?" You say as you look at the canvas that was almost mirror-like.

It looked just like you, you couldn't help as your hands traced the outline of your painted face on the canvas.

It was almost cute how Damian looked up to you. Almost. It started off simple a sketch now and then ;then it turned into full on murals.

It was nice knowing he looked up to you. But you draw the line at the obsessive amount of painting dedicated to your face solely.

"Don't you ever get tired of hating me?" He says his eyes looking at you with adoration but you can tell he's memorizing every inch of your face. Probably for another painting.

"Fair enough." You whisper more to yourself then to him.

"Do you like it?" He asks ,his voice quiet waiting for your approval. Needing your approval.

"Its....realistic." You murmur eyes still on the undeniably beautiful painting. But you'd never tell him how much you truly admired his work.

He hums heart squeezing in his chest at how you barely react. It should get easier each time you critique his art or each time you verbally state you have no interest in being his sister.

But it doesn't.

It hurts just the same each time. Even worse on some days.

The young ex assasin boy will always yearn for your approval no matter how much you deny him.

"That's the point." Damian mumbles but his words have no true bite to them like they would if someone else would've committed on his painting. No, his words are soft and hurt.

His eyes now at the floor unable to look you in the eyes. As of he's disappointed ,not you ,but at himself.

And for a moment the room is calm as you stare deeply into the painting that replicates you completely.

Tearing your eyes away you turn to Damian. Sadly he doesn't look at you back. Instead he stands like a kicked puppy begging for acceptance. Atleast that's what he looks like. And kinda is.

Looking at him now he doesn't look like robin. Or an ex assasins...just a kid. But you have to remind yourself what he's done to you. What they've done to you.

So you don't show any empathy as he continues looking pitiful. Though his eyes continue looking at the ground you notice something.

Something different.

You tilt your head and your hands make their way to his chin lifting it so his eyes meet yours. And he gladly let's you since he's so eager for your affection.

His eyes look at you softly waiting for anything ,but your to worried about something else.

"Your eyes...their blue." You say your voice just a whisper as if verifying it to yourself.

Damian tilts his head like a confused puppy.

"They have always been blue ,sister" Damian says his voice soft but also mocking.

"No, they were green..." You say your eyes never leaving his now blue ones. What was going on?

His eyes have always been green you were so sure of it. Though yes you despised him you couldn't deny his eyes were beautiful.

Green like the forest you thought. Never blue. One of the traits he got from his mother... atleast that's what you thought.

"Are you feeling well ,sister?"

"Stop lying. Your eyes have always been green." You say your grip on his chin tightens almost instantly but not harsh. Never harsh.

Damian looks at you like you just just said something ridiculous and that makes you confused. He really isn't lying is he?

Letting go of his chin you step back.

"Are you sure your alright, sister? I'll go get Alfred..." Damian says worry etched on his face as he looks at you. You look fine just....confused.

"No, don't get Alfred. I'm fine...just need some sleep." You say hoping he'll buy the lie. Even though part of what you said is true.

Because how the hell did his eyes change colors over night? Yeah you definitely needed sleep.

"I'll assist you to your room ,sister." Damian say his feet already making their way towards you.

"There's no need damian. I know where my room is." You say sarcastically already making your exit out of the art room before Damian could protest.

You rub your temples on your way to your room ,clearly stressed. Were you really losing your shit?

"You okay sweetheart?" Bruce voice rings throughout the quiet hall till it reaches your ears. Of course you weren't alright your losing your damn mind! But like he'll your telling him that.

"I'm fine ,dad."

Dad? Dad. God's you hated calling him that but you knew what would happen if you didn't. And sitting through an entire movie with your overbearing father was not on your wishlist.

"Just tired." You mumble as you continue walking. Trying to escape having a full conversation with the man you couldn't stand.

"Get some rest!" Bruce all but shouts as you continue walking to your room.

You sigh as you finally lay down in your room. Peace. This was peace. But what do the always say? Oh, yeah.

Calm comes before the Storm.

You yawn your eyes finally drifting shut as you roll to lay on your side only to fill something crumb beneath you. Groaning you lazily try and pull whatever is underneath you out.

But it doesn't budge so you tiredly sit up. And pull the piece of now crumbled paper from under you.

"Shit I thought I put up my homework?" You mumble tiredly but the rooms to dark to see what's on the paper.

But wait this doesn't feel like just a piece of paper. Something inside you is deeply telling you but you toss it aside decideding to wait till tomorrow. Because right now you need sleep.

The next day you wake up to thunder a big storm. Yawning and wiping your eyes you hardly even glance at the raging storm outside but what does catch your eye si the piece of paper from lats night. Actually it's a note.

Your gut gets that feeling like you're about to puke. But you brush it off. It's just a dumb note right? Probably from dick telling you about his day or jason telling you he'll see you today. Or maybe even Tim annoyed about the state you left him in last night.

Either way it's just a note right?

Wrong. The words in the note twist your stomach like you've been pushed down a forty feet tower.

And in this moment you feel just like the muskrat who chews off his own leg to escape the trap.

But you also understand one thing from the muskrat now ,that you didn't before.

Maybe the muskrat wasn't stupid or brave.

Maybe the muskrat knew he'd die if he chewed of ihis leg.

But maybe dying was better then living his whole life with his foot trapped in a cage....

Oh! and what did the note say? Simple words really.

'It worked. NOW RUN.'

Who knows this might be your way out. But you could be just as stupid or brave as the muskrat.

The question is are you?

Thanks for reading!

Likes comments and reblogs are appreciated!!

Taglist: @alwaysholymilkshake @0sunnyside01 @a-taken-url @hearts4mica

[asidian]

I've seen a lot of talk about how breathtakingly devoted Charles is for walking down into hell to rescue Edwin, but one thing I don't think I've seen talked about anywhere is how astoundingly brave it was.

Put yourself in Charles' place, at this point in canon.

Literally all Charles has heard about hell is what Edwin has told him. And all Edwin's said, over and over again, for thirty years, is how terrible it was. It's the worst place with the worst people, and, well, Edwin trauma Olympics like a champ. Even if Charles doesn't know the full story, and he plainly doesn't, he knows that it's Very Bad.

He's walking into an absolute nightmare, and he knows it, and he does it with his eyes wide open.

And then take a look at how he's getting there.

The last time he saw the Night Nurse, she forced him to relive his worst trauma in real time and was threatening to split the pair of them up - to drag Edwin back to hell herself.

You can actually see Charles' expression shift when Niko suggests the Night Nurse look in his head again; he's afraid, and he's trying hard to mask it. He's afraid, but he's willing to let it happen, because he will do whatever it takes to get to Edwin.

So he stands aside and lets her poke around in his mind again, no matter how much pain she caused him the last time she was there.

And then?

Then he's got to rely on this woman who has literally only ever done him harm to uphold her end of the bargain.

Add to all of that the fact that Charles doesn't know if he can do this.

The only time he forcefully tells Crystal no, without any apology or softening of the words, is when he tells her she can't come to hell with him.

That's because he doesn't know if he can keep her safe. He doesn't know if he can make it back.

This is on the heels of the Devlin house, where he was able to do nothing to save the family trapped inside. It's on the heels of the Night Nurse showing him how powerless he is. It's on the heels of the Two Dead Dragons, where he spends the entire episode certain that he's a terrible person. It's on the heels of the debacle in the forest with Monty, where Charles is able to do nothing at all. He has to rely on Crystal to save the day.

He does not know if he can do this, and even if he can, he does not know whether he can trust the person letting him have a chance to fulfill her end of the bargain.

But he doesn't even hesitate.

He's going after Edwin because he has to go after Edwin.

He's got to. Because the alternative, leaving Edwin on his own again to suffer this fate he's suffered for too long already, is unthinkable.

And so he walks into hell, and he rewrites the whole damn narrative with bravery and devotion and desperation alone. And that is so unspeakably lovely that I'm still not over it, all these months in.

[quarterlifekitty]

…Dad!König and his chunky as hell baby… perhaps Dad!König wanting… chunky baby number two? I mean, get a load of this guy (literally)

I think we can all agree that König kinda fuckin’ REEKS of only child. So I think in his mind, it would be best to have more than one. Less likely that they turn out all fucking awkward, like he did.

And of course he gives you huge babies. Look at him. You probably bruised his hand during labor and cursed him to hell and back for doing this to you. Absolute unit of a baby.

And he loves a bit of symmetry. Having a baby in one arm just makes him want to have a baby in the other arm.

He’s worshipping the ground you walk upon during your pregnancy, by the way. But it’s even more extreme right after you give birth. He knows it was extremely difficult, and that you’ve given him something he’d never dreamed he’d have. Something he thought he was past the right age for. And, a bit selfishly, he pampers you so intensely because… he wants you to look back on this time with your fresh new baby as fondly as possible. Because that will increase the chances that you’ll be willing to go through one of those hellish labors for him again so that your baby can have a sibling.

[johnbierce]

It's finally launch day for my new book! The City That Would Eat the World, book one of the More Gods Than Stars Trilogy, is out now on Amazon and Audible! More Gods Than Stars is socialist sword and sorcery progression fantasy starring a pair of wandering lady adventurers, set on a gas giant's habitable moon, featuring a mimic-based ecosystem, uncounted millions of gods ranging from ones for individual teakettles to gods of entire cities, a ridiculously complex magic-based economy in the vein of Max Gladstone's Craft Sequence, anime-inspired fight scenes, a trans deuteragonist (and plenty of other queer characters), a pseudomedieval megastructure arcology spreading uncontrollably across the landscape, and last but definitely not least, the god of counting flagstones.

"An incredibly imaginative adventure through the corrupt underbelly of a world-devouring and ever-expanding city and its gods-blessed inhabitants. Magical engineering, economics, divine blessings and human corruption combine into an adventure through a truly original setting."

Cameron Johnston, Author of Age of Tyranny & The Maleficent Seven

Art by Lukas Ketner, Cover Design by Virginia McClain

Thea is a washed-up mimic exterminator who expected more out of life, not some hero from stories. Aven is an impulsive wandering adventurer whose personal goddess is constantly getting her into trouble. Neither of them have the slightest interest in getting involved in world-shaking historical events. History doesn’t care what they want, unfortunately, and it’s fallen right into their laps in the shape of a godslaying weapon from a fallen civilization. Thrown together out of chance, Thea and Aven will have to learn to work together if they want to survive their pursuers. Because if they fail, and the weapon falls into the wrong hands? The results won’t be pretty. No one’s going to be using it on some random street corner goddess, teakettle god, or any of the other countless teeming millions of divinities on Ishveos. No, there’s one target that sits above all others. Cambrias, Whose Watch Never Ends. Cambrias, whose power has given rise to Cambrias’ Wall, the greatest city in the known multiverse- a city that has already covered much of a continent, and is strip mining entire mountain ranges for space and building material. A city that threatens to spread across the entire surface of Ishveos. And there’s no shortage of folks willing to kill Thea and Aven in order to stop the Wall, no matter the consequences.

I'm incredibly proud of this one- I spent years on the research behind its world, reading literally dozens of books on architecture, economics, leftist political theory, and theology. Though, for all that I genuinely tried to say something important with The City That Would Eat the World, I also did my best to keep it a fun, high-octane fantasy adventure- and I'm pretty dang confident I succeeded on that latter part. It draws heavily in inspiration from Terry Pratchett, China Mieville, and Max Gladstone; as well as the classic sword and sorcery adventure stories like Jirel of Joiry, Fafhrd and the Grey Mouser, and their ilk. More Gods Than Stars is set in the same multiverse as my other books, the magic school series Mage Errant and the standalone epidemiological fantasy novel The Wrack, but you don't need to have read either of them to read this, or vice versa.

"The City That Would Eat The World is easily one of the most impressive books I've ever read. Not only has Bierce conjured up a hell of an adventure from page one, but he's also crafted a strange and gritty world with stunning depth, jammed it full of fantastic characters, then topped it all off with an explosive ending. The next book can't come soon enough."

Kyle Kirrin, author of The Ripple System

[scrimblescromble]

Hello, I'm back, with things I have noticed about Eragon that makes parts of the book very strange or funny or sad

Garrow's farm is TEN MILES OUT from Carvahall, which is already small. What the hell was he thinking??? It takes like 3.5 hours to walk that much???? And Eragon walks FURTHER THAN THAT to go hunting at 15???? Go behind you??

When hunting in the beginning, Eragon spends days just going for one doe. Which, all things considered, is not a lot of meat, especially for what's probably a 4 day hunt. For one person, it's unrealistic to carry more than that, but still.

Leading on from that, I'm led to believe that their family probably mostly ate bread and vegetables, and maybe cheese. No wonder he's pretty attached to meat.

Despite living so far away, Brom knows Eragon's knack for asking Too Many Questions, which implies this happens often.

How the hell does Brom make money? Storytelling??? There's only so much money that can get you in fifteen years, he's definitely got something on the side. He was a gardener in Morzan's estate for a while...

So far up north and isolated, Eragon DEFINITELY has a STRONG farmer's accent. Combined with his formal training with the elves, he probably has the weirdest way of talking, where it's both overly formal and casual at the same time.

Eragon is such a prodigy it's not even funny. By the time he meets Murtagh, he's a good enough swordsman after JUST A FEW MONTHS that they're literally equal. Murtagh has been doing that his WHOLE LIFE with a really good swordsman. Magic also comes pretty good to him, even if he's not always sensible with it. He learns to read well enough to read full books in a week.

Eragon and Roran are pretty similar with the dangerous stunts they pull, except Eragon's are usually with magic and Roran's are physical. They are both absurdly intelligent too, even if Eragon is known to act like a dolt sometimes. In his defence, he's stressed and like 15-17 years old. All things considered, he could be far worse.

Somehow, with his back ripped open and cursed, with his dragon crashing through the crystal ceiling which is raining on top of him, Eragon is able to not only remember to stab Durza in the heart (requiring turning around), but also shout an unnecessary spell.

Eragon probably could do magic before he bonded with Saphira. His mum wasn't a rider and had the "genes" for it, and his dad was a rider. It wouldn't be as strong, but maybe he's such a powerful spellcaster because he had some sort of baseline.

I bet that the first time Eragon wandered into the Spine, he was pretty young, and everyone kinda assumed him dead. He came out a week later with a bunch of rabbits or something

The fact that the Blood Oath Celebration made Eragon very pale implies that he's naturally the whitest boy ever and he just had a constant tan going (likely, because he's a farmer). This is just very funny to me, that in removing all injuries it took his tan.

Another point for absurdly powerful Eragon - the fact that his accidental curse had such an impact on Elva, to the point that it straight up affected her development. It wasn't even a spell! Or intentional!

I'm sorry, but Eragon casting empathy and that unintentionally killing the bad guy is so funny. He was SURRENDERING, but cut a bitch so deep that he imploded himself. Iconic.

Literally he is just so nice. Willing to run across the world, separated from Saphira, to support Orik in his campaign - when he totally could have given an excuse, or even just say the truth, which is that he's very much needed where he is. There's so many more examples, but he's just a good person.

I'm sorry, but Oramis was kinda a bitch for assigning the one hour of duelling in his training. Like, it flares up his seizures like crazy (which he ALSO SUFFERS FROM), AND he doesn't stand a chance against the elves in strength. I understand the point, but something had to give there. At the very least, reassign someone that won't actively torture him??

Adding onto that, we know that he's only able to succeed at the listening to the forest task after the transformation. I suspect that the mind is a sort of "sixth sense", and we know that elves have stronger senses; it's possible Eragon would have to have been bonded for a decent while for this to even be possible. I bet anything that human riders were usually trained by elder humans, and Oramis was struggling with a fledgeling human instead of an elf, as well as the time constraint.

Why the hell does Brom look so old? Yeah, he's old, but Galbatorix doesn't look that old? Is it something to do with his dragon being dead? The way I assumed it would be is that riders look like thirty for a verrrryyyy long time, no? Is it because Saphira died? Was he just going to perpetually age? Or does the beard age him?

Your cousin who feels like a brother goes missing, ran away, after your father's death. Soon you're leading everyone you've ever known to the rebellion in a desperate attempt to keep them safe and save the woman you love. Your cousin is wanted, even more than you are. He returns. He's different. Barely human anymore, hardly the boy you once knew. He's their last, and only hope. His war cry has been the same since he was six.

Now that I think about it, Garrow really is the odd one out in the family. His sister was the Black Hand, a highly dangerous assassin and magician. His son is Stronghammer, one of the deadliest soldiers in the country. His nephews are Eragon and Murtagh, both highly skilled swordsmen and magicians, riders, and both known as Kingkiller. Garrow is a farmer who can read.

Selena naming her son Eragon is soooo funny. "His dad - who is a secret! - is a rider, and Eragon was the first rider. It's so uncommon a name even among the elves that literally nobody will know this. My abusive husband and the evil king both know I hail from this place. He totally won't stick out in any way whatsoever!" Iconic, 10/10. It worked???

If any of these are inaccurate please remember I am going off my very deep-seated knowledge from reading the books so many times at a formative age. I haven't actually read them in years

[rokiibrok]

I honestly don’t think Caleb as much as a freak as everyone says. A perv maybe(lovveeee pervy Caleb)

But I don’t believe he’s choking you. I don’t think he’s a rough lover at all. After all he yearns. In fact I think he’d rather die than ever bruise you. I think he’d be extremely gentle. Almost too gentle. Like you’d have to reassure him. Constantly too. Not to mention I think he’d be sorta pathetic. Just all puppy eye and willing to bend at your mercy. Want him on the floor? Got it. Want him on top? Easy. Want him to eat you out for hours? Already ahead of you. ALSO I don’t think he’d degrade you either. He’s only praising. I cannot CAN NOTTT IMAGINE THIS MAN saying ANYTHING mean about you. ESPECIALLY CALLING YOU A bitch or a slut. Like Caleb? The man who would die for you KILL for you. Caleb the type of guy that would threaten somebody because they called you out of your name. He could never. He would tease though. That’s just who he is. Like “why are you so bossy?” Even though he’s doing whatever you’ve asked. This man would be such a gentle lover. I mean he’s been yearning for literally ever. And finally he gets the chance to explore your body?!?!? He’d take it painfully slow. In fear of hurting you or scaring you but also in awe. Like he cannot believe he’s the one that gets to see you like this.

DO NOT GET ME WRONNGG he is very very very possessive though. He’d say little things like “im the only one who gets to see you like this,” it’ll sound like a question but it’s not. Or the way his hands caress every curve. Not only is he basically worshipping but he’s printing it to memory. The thought of being the only man who sees you like this. Knows you like this. Hears and feels you like this. It gets him GOING. Like simply telling him you belong to him?!?!? That’s his Achilles' heel.

But if you’re into the choking and the berating he’d try. It would take him awhile but he could do it. Especially if that’s what you want oh hell yea. Like he’d choke you. Maybe even slap you not too hard. Never. Might even call you a bad girl. But never bitch. Maybe slut. Never ever bitch. Just the thought of calling you a bitch turns him off.

BUT BUT BUT BUTTT i believe there are two sides of Caleb. Childhood friend, the boy you grew up with and chip in his neck colonel. Which breaks my heart. I feel like you wouldn’t see him often. Like the Caleb reintroduction type beat. Like when he’s integrating you. Or the “I’ve always held myself back and endured. Day,after day, it was suffocating,” LIKE the best example is in the farspace bloomfall card. Where he’s like “let’s go back. Or else you’ll catch a cold,” then he goes to pull you off the bench but you don’t move and he kinda stares at you. LIKEEE AHHH like it breaks my heart but like I hope you know what I mean. Like that man would be the freak everyone writes about. (Still not calling you out of your name) I think he’d be more condescending. Again another example of “you can’t convince yourself to hate me with every fiber of your being can’t you agree?” CHATZ ITS THE WAY HE SAYS IT. Like this is the man that is rough. Who chokes you. Like his emotions are so unstable thisss is the freak. Likeee this is the only time he’s ever rough with you IN THE GAME. It’s like high stressful moment for him. That’s the only time he manhandle you. It’s def because of the chip and that destroys me.

I hope this 4am babbling made sense. Long story short I ADORE CALEB SO MUCH LIKE I LOVE HIM!! Sometimes I feel like he gets the same mischaracterization as Sylus does.

[certifiablyinsanez]

Okay, I’m not coping well with the emotional whirlpool I’m experiencing after Mastermind. And this scene right here:

Is something that is haunting me. Because it’s not difficult to see what troubles lie ahead for them, what consequences await for the events of the trial. What do we already know about Blitz? That he has deeply hated himself for many years. Maybe he felt slightly better after Millie’s monologue in Ghostfuckers, but I think we all know that such a deep seated hatred of oneself doesn’t disappear in a single conversation. This much is clear by the pictures in Blitz’s apartment still being blacked out that we can see in the background in Mastermind. And any relief he may have felt from Millie’s sincere story is going to be completely shattered.

I have no doubt personally that Blitz has always thought he ruined Stolas’ life. He’s not a stupid man; he’s observant. He knows the struggles Stolas has gone through with the advent of their deal and relationship. He’s seen the wedge he put between him and his daughter. He knows the kind of hell the divorce has put him through. But now?

If there was any doubt he ruined his life before, it’s gone now. Because Stolas has now utterly, and completely, lost everything. His titles, his status, his wealth, his home, his power. All that’s gone. But worse? He’s entirely lost his daughter now. Blitz will probably never forgive himself for that. I mean shit, he literally said this:

Stolas is a much more powerful being than Blitz. But Blitz believes he deserves to die rather than put Stolas in harms way. Blitz will probably be wishing that he died rather than live with the fact that he’s brought Stolas low. Stolas’ punishment is far longer than Blitz’s life span. The consequences of saving his life will outlive him. There no chance Blitz will accept this as Stolas’ choice. Not only will he have to deal with the trauma of the trial before Stolas arrived, but also the result of what it’s done to the man he loves more than life itself.

But Stolas? Stolas would do it again. The way he says it, “Always”, is just so raw and softly powerful. Because he’s just had his powers ripped from his body. He’s lost it all, he’s lost his child. But he would do it again. There was no other choice to be made. There was no alternative. He said it himself:

Stolas is a suicidal figure. He prepped his daughter for the day he wouldn’t be around. He doesn’t value himself or his life at all. He’s suffered tremendously. He probably already believes he’s lost his daughter. His daughter has made it clear that she hates him. Outside of Blitz, who is his light in the darkness, his soulmate and true love, what does he have to live for? To Stolas this was a no brainer. He went to that block with dignity. He was so willing to die for his love.

So when Blitz thanks him for saving his life, Stolas, breathless and weak, says “Always”, because he will always love him, need him, cherish him. He will always put him above himself, which is something Blitz wouldn’t understand but is second nature to a gentle spirit like Stolas. Stolas who escaped the torments of his life in his books, who is humble and sweet with a lowly imp because his body and soul needs Blitz like he needs air. A true romantic, a soft demon who gave it all up for love and would do it again.

Always, he says, and means with every syllable.

[lustlovehart]

Hi hi hi I love your blog I love how you coordinate the characters you like it makes it way easy to see if we have any similar faves! For twst do you have any Yan!Rollo thoughts to spare? Any crumbs at all? 🎤

I'm happy the setup for my character list actually worked! I'm willing to write for a lot of characters, but I do have preferences (not to say I hate writing for characters that aren't my favs, sometimes you js get a spark of inspo and NEED to write) so I wanted people to easily know who I enjoyed to write/draw for more!

Warnings: [Yandere], Obsession, Idealization, Delusions, Kisses, He's a freak (Literally)

Yandere Rollo who's the type to not bask in your glory, but rather simply, linger, in it. Oh, but don't be fooled, if he had the opportunity to he would swallow you and your entirety like fine wine.

But he doesn't, because despite his wicked need to be your one and only, he knows the only way you'll ever be his, is to trap all your affections in a bottle and keep it close to his heart.

This doesn't mean he can't find someway to bypass his own rules. It may be a misdemeanor in his morals, but he isn't truly hurting you.

Rollo, who is the type to try and be realistic with his affections, yet a deeper part of him pushes past all rational thought and imagines you as his light. An even more suppressed part of him wishes for himself to be your light.

"Do you really only eat grapes and croissants? I'm not sure if that's a very nutritional meal..." Rollo's tired eyes glance up from his plate at you, poor table manners having you lean on the surface as you stab at a piece of cake.

"You speak like that and eat different variations of dessert at least once a week." his expression doesn't change, but his point of focus does, trained at the piece of frosting on the corner of your lip.

"Well i'm sorry for not wanting to eat the same thing over and over again." You point down at his plate, 14 grapes and half a croissant left on the dish. He's ready to say something, but then a hint of defiance glints in your eyes, your hand quickly taking the croissant from him. "Well, you can get something else or trek back to town for another one." You place the pastry on your lips, opening your mouth to engulf the rest of the bread, but before you have the chance to eat any of it, you blink at Rollo's face on the other end. With each bite of the other half letting him close in on you. "Rollo-"

In the last consumption, he steals your end from your lips. It has you tense at the proximity, and he's leaning in, and he's coming closer to your lips...

And his hand is quickly turning your chin to allow his thumb to swipe the piece of frosting away. You stare at him wide-eyed at the act, questioning what just occurred. But before you can ask him what the hell that was about, he leaves.

Because he knows, he would tell you if you ask.

Rollo who keeps this obsession compressed in public, but the moment he's alone, he smiles to himself, thoughts of you racing through his mind.

Throughout the day, Rollo avoids you lest he jump to his desires. But he will notice the way he sticks out his tongue to lick his lips, savoring you from your half of the croissant. Secretly, he wishes to have left the bread longer in your mouth so more of you would sog its flavor.

He even notices the way he bites his thumb, tongue peaking out to strip clean the flavor of icing. Even after its essence is wiped clean, he continues. He imagines himself indulging in sin. Rather than swiping the frosting he should've cleaned it with his own mouth.

Or maybe even, continued going after the entirety of the bread was gone, taste you rather than a pastry.

Oh, but you might be sweet, too sweet for even him. The thought though, has him clench his fist...

Rollo who keeps a secret journal filled to the brim of you.

Pictures you had taken, items you left in his room when you were sleeping over, even more personals no one other than you should have. It's truly horrific. There's an entire page sprayed with your perfume (That he personally hunted down himself.), that he lays next to him at night to imagine you're there.

There are also words scribbled in neat handwriting, detailing the love he wishes to spill for you.

Rollo who, despite how hard he wishes to keep you far from harm and the outside cruel influence, will wait until your heart is for him.

Because, you are his light, one that must continue to shine in order to light the horrible life he has lived. He will harbor you growth for as long as he can, until the moment your candle burns for him, and you're all his.

Once that happens, he will never have to worry about his delusions, being delusions any longer.

[hametsukaishi]

FUNDRAISER FOR THE ALHABIL FAMILY

Once again I reach out to y'all on behalf of a family in need; Mohammed and Aya (@alhabil, @aya2mohammed) parents of three wonderful children: Ahmed, Osama and Mira. They also take care of Mohammed's elderly parents, who both suffer chronical conditions that have worsened since the genocide started.

The situation is this: They have been displaced seven times already and are staying now in Nuserait, wich is not safe as the IOF troops are bombing it.

They lost the buissnes that supported the family, the little kids have fallen ill because of the lack of resources.

They are eight, six and four years old. Do y'all remember what were you doing at their age??? Sure as hell wasn't constantly escaping from death or trying to battle deathly ilnesses.

They deserve a childhood, a chance at a full and happy life. Their parents deserve to see them happy, and not having to worry about their family crumbling. Mohammed's parents deserve a tranquil retirement. They deserve everything, so let's make our best to make sure they get it!

Donating is the base of everything. Small acts of kindness really go a long way, and have a huge impact, just like big donations. Even a dollar can make a difference, if there's somebody else willing to keep it up.

However, if you are truly unable to donate, I ask you to share this, and do it properly! Read their blogs and open your heart to their story and struggles. Don't dehumanize them: they are a family like the rest of us, and they deserve to be taken as such. Comment, tag people supportive of palestine and reblog.

This is literally the only thing I do and it has had a huge impact in a lot of people's life, so y'all can do it too!!

@dykesbat @witchywitchy @slashermilf @tamarrud @dxsqz

[tootiecakes234]

Your Ex-boyfriend Katsuki Bakugo

The ex boyfriend who acted like he couldn’t care less when you told him you were leaving.

The ex boyfriend Katsuki, who told anyone that asked that about you, to shut the hell up.

Ex boyfriend Dynamite who was on the front page 2 weeks later because a reporter wouldn’t stop asking him about you.

Ex boyfriend that still has to see you often because you have the same group of friends.

The same ex boyfriend that can’t keep his eyes off of you when you’re around. And he tries, he really really tries but it’s instinct to always know where you are and if you’re safe.

Ex boyfriend Dynamite that uses chunks of his patrol time to follow you when you’re out and about. You never even notice him, but he’s there.

Ex boyfriend Katsuki who gets drunk one night and calls you sounding like he’s in tears. Spilling his guts to about how he’s so so sorry, and you’re still all he thinks about. He knows you always deserved better than him and even though it’s ripping his heart out, all he wants is for you to be happy.

Katsuki who can’t meet your eyes the next time he sees you because he remembers every word he said to you and he knows it doesn’t make a difference.

Ex boyfriend whose heart nearly stops beating the first time Mina mentions you have a date because he can’t believe it. You’re moving on.

You’re at a party when he finds you outside alone and tells you that if any of the guys you’re dating ever do anything to hurt, he will hunt them down and end them. Fuck his hero status.

Ex boyfriend who ends up chatting with you for a good long while time and then you laugh and he hasn’t heard that laugh in so long. It melts the ice he’s been feeling in his chest since you left.

Ex boyfriend Katsuki that kisses you in the midst of you laughing.

The man you melt against because it’s second nature. He keeps kissing you as long as you’ll let him because he knows, this is probably the last one he’ll get.

Ex boyfriend who cuts you off before you call that kiss a mistake and says he won’t do it again. He just wanted to say goodbye.

But then you kiss him again. When you pull away you tell your ex boyfriend that maybe you want to try again but you both have a lot of work to do. That it can’t go back to being the way it was or you’d leave and there wouldn’t be anymore chances after that.

“Ex” boyfriend Katsuki who swears on his life that it won’t be the same. That he’ll be whatever he needs because he doesn’t want to live this life without you.

Fiancé Katsuki Bakugo who still thinks of those 4 months without you as the worst 4 months of his life.

Fiancé that 100% keeps his promise and proposed to you 2 years later to the day and was honestly shocked that you said yes because in he is still convinced you could still do better than him. But if you were willing to settle, he’d give everything he had to try and be enough.

*i tried with this but honestly, I ain’t leaving that man.😭

Katsuki Masterlist

Let me know if you want to be added the the tag list💕

Tags: @dreamcastgirl99 @xxvendettaxx @justbepeace @moonpieshawdy @theloveofnagiseishiroslife @mintsbubbletea @darkstarlight82 @anon-mouse223 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @i-literally-cant-with-this @flowerbedbaby @kit-katsukii @blaize-hewwo @sweetblueworm @tippy-toes @superlegend216

[yeostars]

hii :)) I saw your post about ateez with an older s/o, and I was wondering if you were willing to do one about ateez with a younger s/o (not too much just like 1-2 years)

you don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable or if you just don’t want to though, I was just curious about this kind of dynamic

𓆩♡𓆪 dynamics study: ateez members dating someone younger than them / having a younger s/o <3

𓆩♡𓆪 hongjoong, yunho

• would be protective over you 100%. They are originally the kind of people who get jealous naturally, even if they can't help it. Might be slightly more possessive and protective over you than usual and you freaking love it. Would give you head pats every single time they find you endearing or adorable. Would warn you to be extra careful if you're driving late at night/ walking alone at night, going to the lengths of texting you and checking in with you every ten minutes to make sure you're safe and coming home soon. Would give you loooots of forehead kisses <3 would sincerely teach you about new things & hobbies if you ever mention about getting interested in them.

• always your no.1 supporter, no matter what. Whether you've accomplished a small achievement or a big one, they would never fail to show you how proud they are of you, would show off about your smallest achievements to their friends and family members, always leaving you slightly embarrassed but they assure you that you deserve to be appreciated about every single thing you do ><

• they're always the one taking initiatives- whether it's planning a date or helping you take the random-est of decisions, they're somehow always taking the lead. Them being older than you naturally leads them to be the ones taking the lead. Most importantly, they always make sure your needs and preferences are ahead of theirs. Basically they don't mind sacrificing something they like if it means putting ahead something you would love- all of that just to see that cute smile on your face. Would let you win in small and playful arguments, just to see that happy sparkle in your eyes upon winning.

𓆩♡𓆪 seonghwa, san

• they always, ALWAYS make sure you're comfortable. in literally any situation - could be when you're having a movie night at home, they arrange the pillows & blankets just right so that you're always cozy. they even go to the extent of you leaning against their shoulder for HOURS, using their arm as your pillow, even if it means that their shoulder is going to be SORE the next day- they don't care as long as you're sleeping peacefully.

• would LOVE stroking your smooth, soft hair. it's literally their favourite thing to do, and just like yunho and joong, they'd also give you lots of head pats because they're always endeared by whatever you do. They're always gentle with you, would treat you like you're a delicate doll for real. Especially because of you being younger than them, although there's barely 1-2 years age difference between the both of you, taking utmost care of you would be their responsibility. No matter the situation, they'd lend you their jacket even if you're a little cold, sometimes even draping it over your shoulder before you can even ask.

• they're ALSO quite protective over you. Would show their protectiveness in the form of quietly wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to them when you're talking with a stranger who's making you uncomfortable, as if showing them who you belong to, and proving to you that they're always there for you. Would also naturally shield you in crowds, keeping you close to them to make sure no one bumps into you. Would call you nicknames like "baby" "my love" "sweetheart" which you swoon over everytime.

𓆩♡𓆪 wooyoung, mingi

• not gonna lie, your dynamics would be quite similar to that of an older brother and a younger sister. Even though your age difference is barely 1-2 years, the both of you would be teasing the hell outta each other, annoy each other every chance you get, yet care the most for each other and show your love in the tiniest, most random ways. Their nature is like that- they're quite unserious and so are you. Dating mingi and wooyoung with them being older than you would be like having a best friend, older brother & boyfriend all in one.

• similarly, like an older brother would be naturally protective of their younger sister, they'd be protective of you. Considering how dramatic these two can get sometimes, they'd throw tantrums when you ask them to pick you up late at night but would always be there to pick you up the fastest. They'd keep an eye around you in front of others, when you're out in public or around new people, you're always in their eyesight, making sure no one's making you uncomfortable.

• Would slightly mess up your hair after giving you head pats, and you'd scold them for it, but they just do it to annoy you and to be endeared by that pout on your face. Your kisses would always last longer than necessary because they just don't want to let go of you so soon. They can get quite clingy sometimes, requesting you to stay the night and cuddle at their place to spend more time with you, making you question who's the younger one between the both of you, lol. They'd also be the type to tuck you in safely in bed after coming home exhausted from a date, and stare at your peaceful resting face for hours, carefully fixing the hair on your eyes so that it doesn't bother you. These two would show their love in hidden ways like these, admiring you even more when you don't notice.

𓆩♡𓆪 yeosang, jongho

• would be extremely gentle and caring with you. Sometimes maybe even more than necessary- they'd be the type to hold your hand at literally any chance they get. Although these two don't like showing their physical affection often- when they're in a relationship with a younger s/o, they would love to interlock their fingers with yours, gently swaying it from side to side. Would help you out with the smallest of tasks- such as holding your shopping bag/ purse which is heavier than usual for you without question. Would try to help you out in all ways possible, as their way of showing their love towards you.

• they would be especially protective over your health and well-being. If you're a student, they'd make sure taking breaks in between studying, would always text you to remind you to have your regular meals and make sure you're eating well. During exam times they'd come over and make sure you're not staying up too late revising, would get you to study during daytime itself so you get enough sleep at night & make sure you don't procrastinate.

• They would also stand up for you & firmly defend you- be it someone talking harshly to you, or you disagreeing with someone, they'd calmly step in but would stay there by your side until everything gets resolved. They're quite mature like that & you admire that side of theirs a lot. When you're walking alone late at night, they'd either accompany you or stay with you at all times on the phone, talking about random stuff until you've reached home safely. Would surprise you with little gifts (your favourite chocolate, snacks, some book you wished to have) even if it's not a special occasion because they know that you love surprises & would spoil you with them from time to time.