#i can only block so many people before it starts to hurt

[starberry-skies]

is it relevant to staple my identity to everything i do? prob not. do i kinda have to do that anyway bc otherwise i'll interact w ppl who hate me? yup

[kittlyns]

I had yet another long, strenuous day yesterday and didn't finish work until super late and then I couldn't fall asleep until well past 2am cuz I was in so much pain from standing literally all day

[blughxreader]

platonic yandere batfam thoughts...

how you end up integrating into the family.

I think we often forget how insidious the long-term effects of kidnapping are. Your whole world narrows and you have nothing fulfilling outside of them.

Realistically, how many weeks straight can you do nothing but look at your phone/watch TV? I know we do this every day, but we have school/work/friends/family to provide actual fulfillment and joy. But when you take that away? And have to decide whether you should scroll through monitored social media or talk to your captors?

Especially because the TV doesn't distract from the cold, hard gaze of the surveillance cameras in your room.

Even if you read and craft and cook, it's so difficult to keep your mental health in-tact without having a positive interaction with another human being.

It would start small.

It's morning and Cass smiles at you from across the breakfast table. Not wanting to be rude, you smile tightly back.

Jason wordlessly slides you a book. You take it.

After a few months, you feel slightly more comfortable about taking up space in the manor. Alfred is out of town for the weekend, so you make a sandwich with Tim.

Bruce talks to you about the new scientific breakthrough at Wayne Enterprises and keeps you relatively up-to-date on major world events. You begrudgingly learn more interesting facts than public school has ever taught you.

Soon, you've watched everything good on Netflix. You exhausted your tolerance for social media. You've given yourself headaches reading so much. You've hit an art/writers block like never before because your input has run dry.

With no other source of entertainment, you become more attentive to the Bats.

Of course, you've always watched them out of fear. But as months tick by and you've learned their hearts (and delusions), it's obvious that they would never hurt you. Furthermore, operating within their expectations is easy enough as long as you never challenge them, so the constant danger-sense slowly turns off.

However, because you don't have any outside noise to occupy your mind, drama in the house becomes almost life-and-death to you.

Peace is so fragile, and it's all you have.

Damian and Bruce return from patrol in a rage one night. Damian's furious echoes bouncing upstairs, followed by Bruce's low, indistinguishable scorn.

Fuck, you think. Now your and Bruce's talks are going to be stilted and uncomfortable. Now Damian is going to sulk in your room for hours, unwilling to talk about what happened yet wanting some kind of reassurance.

You can't keep them from fighting, but you want to protect your peace.

When you first arrived in this dreadful manor, you never would have imagined you'd offer them kind words and affection. However it's the only thing you can do now.

There's conflict. The house is tense--your world is tense.

Should you call Dick? He has a day job again, so he can't come over until tomorrow night. It's up to you to ease the tension.

So you do, slowly, with homemade food and Bruce's favorite coffee blend and Damian's favorite hot chocolate. You sit with them individually, shoulder to shoulder (much closer than you would normally sit), and pretend everything is alright. They're surprised but very quick to snap back into a good mood.

The house is suddenly back in order and you did it all by yourself.

And with these vigilantes, conflict is ripe. There's always people coming and going, fighting and playing, and you're unwillingly the most in-tune with the well-being of everyone's relationships.

You protect your peace. You protect the house.

this shit makes me gnaw at my enclosure. if you're fem, it's worse because ✨ stereotypical woman archetype ✨ anyway this has been on my mind because i've been taking care of my baby chicks and cooking dinner most nights, so i'm like 💁‍♀️ i could be a captive house wife click here for my yandere batfam masterlist

[princessbrunette]

I need to see how deer!reader and rafe would interact with each other. Whether it be a failed talking stage kind of scenario where deer realized how scary or intense rafe is or rafe realizing deer was pretty but just not for him.

Idk😭 I know you said you couldn’t see rafe and deer together at all but I want some crumbs of what their relationship couldve been like. Only if you want/can of course, thanks x

so the thing is with deer!reader and rafe — i feel when rafe wants someone really badly, in order to get them he kinda morphs himself into what he thinks they want. not always, like with bunny!reader for example, she liked him for exactly who he was, so he stayed himself, maybe even became worse. but deer!reader is this old wise almost motherly soul sometimes, just in a shy and sensitive girls body. he craves that, real bad. he wants someone to bring him back to earth, to listen to him, validate him, need him just as much as he desperately needs them — and you’re the perfect candidate.

so for the first few weeks, he’s perfect. not only the perfect gentleman but sweet and sensitive, holding back on every snarky, classist comment, entertaining her weird and wacky ideas, standing by the pier talking about how many fish he thinks are in the ocean when she asks. it was kind of a facade, but he starts to realise how nice it feels to let down his guard for a while and just be happy.

but he’s still wrapped up in the wrong crowd. days that aren’t spent with her are spent wrapping up business, doing drug deals, pressing a pistol to the back of the guy that harassed her at the library and telling him if he talks to you again he’ll blow his fucking brains out.

it’s all a downwards spiral from there. deer is intuitive, always snooping about and hearing things — so naturally she finds out about rafe and his habits. she gives him the chance to come clean, and he lies to her face because he doesn’t want to lose her. deer doesn’t like being lied to, so her guard goes back up. rafe gets frustrated and starts to give her attitude before eventually exploding on her. he’d never hurt her, but in the moment she wasn’t sure. she’s terrified, flees, and blocks him.

he is devastated. he really liked her. he continuously tries to get her back, but the more he tries — the more people he confronts to get to her, the more he shows up at her front door, or parties she reluctantly attends, the more terrified she becomes. he just wants to explain that he wouldn’t ever hurt her, that he really likes her, hell— he’ll even just accept proper closure at this point. but she doesn’t want to be anywhere near him. he writes her a letter and leaves it on her doorstep, but pope finds it in the act of pursuing her and throws it in the trash.

rafe never gets over her.

[janiehellion]

Breaking Through

ONESHOT

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Daryl’s reckless behavior on a supply run nearly gets him killed, pushing you to remind him how to stay humble. Little did you know, his attitude was hiding something much deeper that only you could break through.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: DARYL DIXON X FEM!READER

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: MOMMY KINK / SMUT / BODY WORSHIP / ORAL SEX / EDGING / TEASING / HURT / COMFORT / AFTERCARE / LANGUAGE

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 7.799

ꜱᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ: LATE S5 & EARLY S6

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ: @mayday2007

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇ: I truly hope I did your request justice! I also hope that the length of it is okay and that it met your expectations. And thank you so much for your patience!

MASTERLIST

You leaned against the porch, one of the few spots in Alexandria that didn’t make you want to rip your hair out. It all felt too damn clean sometimes, too fake even. Here, it was easy to forget how the world had gone to shit, but... Daryl? He never let himself forget. He was walking around by the gate, looking like an animal waiting for a fight, and you knew why...

Rick and a few others were getting ready for a run—another trip outside the safe walls to scavenge for supplies. But more than that, it was an excuse for Daryl to escape the suffocation of Alexandria. He’d rather be out there with the walkers than in here, playing pretend.

"Daryl," you called out, and he stopped pacing and turned to face you, his eyes narrowing like he was already preparing for a lecture from you.

"What?" He grunted, sounding as defensive as ever. He was always on alert these days, and it was only getting worse since you arrived in Alexandria.

"Listen," you started, stepping down from the porch and running toward him as he prepared to leave. "I know you hate this place, and I understand; I really do, but you need to keep your head on straight out there. You’re not just out there for yourself. You’ve got Rick, Glenn, and Michonne with you today. You fuck anything up; they could get hurt too. Please, just be careful."

He looked away, scuffing his boot against the ground like a stubborn child who didn’t want to hear what you were saying. "Ain’t no damn kid. Can handle myself," he growled back at you.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. This wasn’t the first time you’d had this conversation, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last. "You might be able to handle yourself, sure, and we all know that you are more than capable of doing that, but that doesn’t mean you can act reckless. You need to listen to Rick, do what he says, and stop acting like a damn brat. You keep pulling this shit, and one of these days, it’s gonna bite you in the ass. Literally."

Daryl clenched his jaw and scoffed, and for a moment, you thought he might actually argue with you. But then he just shook his head. "Yer done now?"

"No, Daryl, I’m not done," you snapped back, feeling your frustration grow and almost boil over. "I’m tired of watching you do this bullshit, okay? We’re all trying to make this work, and you’re out there acting like you’ve got a death wish. We’ve lost too many people already, and I’m not about to lose you or anyone else because you couldn’t keep your damn self in check."

For a second, you saw something like vulnerability, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. He looked away again, like he was trying to block out your words, not wanting to listen to you.

"Just... think about what I said, okay?" You said, the tone in your voice softening slightly. You didn’t want to push him too hard, but you couldn’t just let this slide again all the time. "I’m not trying to piss you off, Daryl. I just don’t want to see you get hurt. We all need you to come back. I... I need you to come back."

He didn’t say anything; he just gave you a nod before finally turning away. But as you watched him walk toward Rick, you couldn’t ignore the feeling that something bad was going to happen on this run.

Rick was already waiting by the gate, his hands on his hips as he looked around Alexandria. He seemed to be tired, but when he saw you approaching as well, he gave you a small smile.

"Did you talk to him?" Rick asked, his voice whispering, so only you could hear.

"Yeah," you replied, glancing over at Daryl, who was busy playing around with his knife. "But you know how he is. Stubborn as hell."

Rick laughed a little, but there was no real humor in it. "Yeah. Isn't that the truth? Don’t worry, I'll keep an eye on him while we’re out there, alright? If he does something stupid..."

"You'll make sure he doesn’t," you interrupted, not needing him to finish the sentence.

"Alright. Got it. We’ll be back before you know it," Rick said, louder now and turning to the gate as it opened, and Glenn arrived with the car. "We’re heading out. Stay close, keep quiet, and don’t take any unnecessary risks. We get what we need, and we get back. That's it."

You watched as Daryl took his crossbow and walked with Rick and the others over to the truck. You were worried, sure, but you forced yourself to stay calm. This was Daryl Dixon, after all. He was tough, he was resourceful, and he’d been through far worse than this. But still, there was that uncomfortable feeling in the back of your mind, the one that told you things weren’t going to go smoothly today.

Rick took Daryl aside in the meantime. "Listen, Daryl. We stick to the plan, and we get back without any extra bullshit. You got that?"

Daryl glared at Rick but didn’t say anything. You knew that look; it was the one that said he was going to do what he wanted anyway.

With that, Rick and the others—Glenn and Michonne, in this case—headed out, leaving you in Alexandria with the rest of the group.

You turned away, heading back to the house, but your thoughts were still with Daryl. You just hoped he’d listen to you for once, or rather, Rick. Because if he didn’t, you weren’t sure you’d be able to forgive him—or yourself—if something went wrong.

The truck stopped at the side of a parking lot some time later. Abandoned cars were standing around all over the place, with their windows shattered and rotting corpses still sitting in some of them. It was a graveyard. Rick turned off the engine and looked over to the building, his face already showing that things were about to get rough.

"This place is full of walkers," Rick mumbled, looking around the area. "Okay… We get in, we get out. No fucking around. Got it?"

Everyone nodded, even Daryl, though the look in his eyes told a different story. Alexandria was killing him slowly, suffocating him with its safety and daily routine, and one could see he was just waiting to break free, to remind himself what it felt like to be out there again, in the real world, and not living in an illusion.

"Stick together," Rick continued, his eyes narrowing at Daryl like he could read his mind. "We’re hitting that grocery store, grabbing what we can, and getting the hell out. Nothing else, no bullshit."

Daryl grunted in response, his hand tightening around his crossbow. He wasn’t making any promises; that was clear enough, but at least he wasn’t outright showing it. That would have to be good enough. The four of them got out of the truck, their weapons ready, and slowly made their way toward the store. It looked like it had been raided a few times already, but Rick had heard from Aaron that a shipment had been left behind in the storage rooms—lots of canned food, water, and even medicine inside the small pharmacy of the store, locked up in the back, just waiting to be taken. Easy, if they played it safe.

Of course, playing it safe had not been Daryl’s way of doing it lately, not when his blood was boiling, and especially not since the prison, Terminus, and the other hell everyone went through. And especially not ever since Alexandria.

They went through the side entrance, which was once for the people that had worked there, the glass doors hanging off their hinges, and one could easily guess how most of the walkers got into the store in the first place, apart from those walkers that’ve died inside while scavenging. The inside of the store was pure chaos, with broken shelves, rotten food, and other empty products all across the floor. They moved quietly as Rick led the way, his Colt Python out and ready as always, Glenn close behind with his knife drawn, and Michonne with her sword, while Daryl was at the end, pointing his crossbow around as well. They soon made it to the back of the store, where the stockroom doors were, without drawing any attention so far.

"Alright," Rick whispered, motioning for the others to cover him. "Glenn and I will try to open the door. Michonne, watch our backs. Daryl, you—"

But before Rick could finish, Daryl was already moving. He didn’t like waiting, didn’t like standing around while others decided what to do, or having to wait for a plan. Without a word, he went off to the right, disappearing down one of the side aisles, his crossbow at the ready.

"Daryl!" Rick hissed, but there was no stopping him.

"Shit," Glenn grumbled in a bit of annoyance and panic, his eyes looking at Rick. "Where the hell is he going? What is he doing?"

Rick shook his head in frustration. "Just... just stay here," he ordered before walking after Daryl, cursing to himself with every step.

Daryl moved fast, his crossbow raised as he approached the loading dock at the back of the store from another side. He could hear the sounds of walkers moving behind the metal door, but this was exactly what he was looking for. He shoved the door open with a grunt, with the door making a noise that could be heard all throughout the whole store.

The walkers inside turned at the sound, and they immediately moved forward, their arms outstretched.

"C’mon, ya ugly bastards," Daryl mumbled, the first bolt killing the nearest walker in an instant. The walker fell to the ground, but the others kept coming.

He reloaded quickly, but just as he was about to fire again, a hand grabbed his shoulder, pulling him off balance. He hadn’t noticed the few other walkers, hidden in an open employee restroom nearby, their fingers grabbing his vest with their teeth only inches away from his face.

"Fuck!" Daryl growled, kicking the walker in front of him back and grabbing his knife. But he soon stumbled, falling down to the floor with the two of them on top of him. The impact knocked the knife from his hands, letting it slide across the floor, just out of reach, as he struggled to push the walkers off.

Then, just as the walkers’ teeth were about to bite into his flesh, several gunshots could be heard. Daryl gasped for breath, shoving the dead off him as he got to his feet, his heart racing while he looked over at Rick standing in the doorway with his Colt Python.

"You stupid son of a bitch," Rick said, lowering the gun. "What the hell were you even thinking?"

Daryl wiped the blood from his face, glaring at Rick but not saying a single word. He didn’t need to—he knew he’d fucked up, and Rick certainly knew it too.

But Rick didn’t wait for an explanation. "We need to hurry. Get your damn ass back to the truck. Now!"

For now, Daryl didn’t argue. He grabbed his crossbow and knife, putting it over his shoulder as he moved past Rick and over to Glenn and Michonne. He could feel Rick’s eyes on his back, judging him, and it took everything in him not to lash out. But he knew Rick was right. He’d been reckless, and it had nearly cost him his life. Not only that, but the supply run failed with the other walkers in the front of the store now moving toward the storage room.

Once outside, Daryl couldn’t ignore the thought that he’d fucked up more than just the run. He’d broken the trust, not just with Rick but with you. And he knew he’d have to face the consequences when he got back.

The sun was starting to set when you saw Rick and the others coming through the gate. You’d been waiting, walking around Alexandria, trying to distract yourself. But the deal had been clear—Rick would bring Daryl back in one piece and tell you every detail. But the moment you caught sight of Rick, you knew something had gone wrong. It was written all over his face, as was the fact that they had no supplies with them.

"Rick," you called out, running over to him.

He looked up at you, nodding and narrowing his eyes. You hated that look. It meant bad news, and you were tired of bad news.

"What happened?" You demanded as he walked next to you. "Where’s Daryl?"

"He’s fine," Rick said, holding up a hand to calm you down, though it didn’t do shit for your nerves. "I don't know where he is right now. Jumped right out of the truck. Physically, he’s okay. But, hell, it was close. Too close. Again."

Your stomach dropped at his words. This was getting out of hand. "What do you mean, 'close'?"

Rick rubbed the back of his neck, looking away for a moment. "We were in that store Aaron told us about, wanting to get the supplies. Daryl decided to go off on his own, like he always does lately. Didn’t wait for us as a backup, just did his own thing. Not even telling us that there was an easier way and that he has seen it. Next thing I know, he’s nearly got two walkers biting into his damn neck."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" You asked, your hands balling into fists at your sides. "I told him—hell, we both told him so many times—not to pull that lone wolf bullshit anymore! And he still did it? I can’t fucking believe it!"

Rick nodded. "Yeah. Same old Daryl, too stubborn for his own good. I got there in time, but if I hadn’t... well, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now."

You sucked in a breath, trying to calm the rage inside you. But it was hard—damn hard—when you pictured Daryl almost getting himself killed because he couldn’t follow simple instructions. "What the hell is wrong with him, Rick? Why does he keep doing this shit? Is Alexandria that bad for him? I mean, yeah, we all aren’t used to this... illusion, but hell, we’re at least trying to make the best of it! All of us!"

Rick sighed, leaning against the porch railing once you both arrived at the house. "I don’t think it’s only about Alexandria, not entirely. But yeah, it’s too controlled, too... fake. So he goes out there, trying to prove he’s still... still who he was out there. But it’s not like none of us tries the exact same thing. We all do. Or did."

You shook your head in frustration. "I get it; I do. But we can’t keep going on like this. He’s going to get himself killed—or worse, get someone else hurt. I’m fucking done sitting around, hoping he’ll pull his head out of his damn ass!"

Rick looked at you with a small smile. "By now I was thinking the same thing on the way back. We’ve tried to talk sense into him, but he isn’t listening. He’s too stubborn."

"That’s it," you finally said. "I’m handling this. If he won’t listen to you, maybe he’ll finally listen to me. But one way or another, this shit stops today, I swear."

Rick’s eyebrows moved up in surprise before he nodded slowly. "You sure? I don’t think you should push him into a corner."

You smirked, but it was more due to annoyance than amusement. "Oh, I’m sure. He’s going to learn today that there’s more than one way to get his damn ass in line. Trust me, Rick. Otherwise… Otherwise, I just don’t know what to do anymore."

Rick laughed a little and shook his head. "Alright then. Just don’t go too hard on him. And you must remember that it takes time. With… all of this."

You waved him off, already halfway down the steps of the porch. "He’ll be fine, Rick."

As you headed toward the garage, where you knew Daryl was probably working on his bike, your mind was already racing with what you were going to say. This wasn’t just about Daryl acting like a reckless asshole—this was about keeping him and the others alive, keeping him from throwing away everything you’d fought so hard for in this new world, with the rest of the group.

The moment you stepped into the garage, he barely looked your way, too focused on tightening a bolt that didn’t even need any more tightening. But you weren’t about to let him ignore you, not after what Rick had told you.

"Daryl," you started, but he only grunted in response, and that was about it—just a damn grunt, like he couldn’t be bothered to reply with words. And it pissed you off how he could be so nonchalant after nearly getting himself killed.

"Look at me," you snapped, stepping closer to him. "I said... Look at me, Dixon."

He paused, his hand stilling on the wrench, before finally looking into your eyes with a scoff.

"You think you can just go off on your own and do whatever the fuck you want? Well, guess what, Daryl? You almost got your damn throat ripped out today. And for what? Because you couldn’t listen? Because you’re too stubborn to accept that you’re part of a community now, and not some lone wolf out there in the woods with a group he helps out every now and then?" You said, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Ain’t like that," he mumbled, but it didn’t really sound like he was trying to defend himself.

"Bullshit!" You shot back, stepping even closer until you were right in his face, close enough to see the way his eyes widened slightly. "It’s exactly like that, and you know it. And for what? To prove something? To whom? You ain’t gotta prove anything to me, Daryl. And certainly not our group. But you do owe it to us to stop acting like a fucking idiot!"

He turned away from you, but you weren’t done yet. "This isn’t just about you anymore, Dixon. Every time you pull this shit, you put everyone at risk. Everyone! You get bit, we lose a member of this group. A member of our damn family! You die, and we all suffer! Do you even get that? Or are you that stuck with your own damn head up your ass that you can’t see that?"

"Ain’t need ya shittin’ on me," he growled, his voice quiet, but you caught something like guilt in it. "Can handle my ass."

"Clearly," you snapped at him with sarcasm. "Because you handled yourself so well today that Rick had to pull your ass out of a walker’s mouth. Real smooth, Daryl! Real fucking smooth!"

He flinched at that, his eyes narrowing as he turned back to face you. "Ain’t like I needed any damn help."

You didn’t back down, though. You were way past that. "And that’s the problem, Daryl. You think that you don’t need anyone. But guess what? You do. You need us, and we need you. So stop acting like an asshole and start thinking about what you’re doing to everyone else."

For a second, you thought he might lash out. But instead, he just looked at you—really looked at you—like he was trying to figure something out. "Why ya care s’ much?" He finally asked.

You huffed, rolling your eyes. "Because I give a shit, you damn idiot. Because I... care about you more than anyone else here even knows, and I’m not about to watch you throw your life away over some macho bullshit, or whatever you’re trying to act like. You think I want to lose you? You think any of us do?"

He stared at you. "Ain’t tryna make shit harder," he muttered, looking down at the ground, shrugging his shoulders. "Jus’... can’t stand it ‘ere sometimes. Ain’t me ‘round ‘ere."

"Who you are isn’t some reckless idiot who doesn’t give a damn about anyone else. Who you are is someone who’s saved more lives than you can count, someone who’s part of a family now. And yeah, maybe it’s different here and maybe it’s hard, but that doesn’t give you the right to check out whenever you feel like it, as if this community is a fucking hotel!"

He didn’t say anything; he just kept looking at you with those blue, searching eyes, like he was waiting for you to give him something—some kind of direction.

You took a deep breath. "Daryl, you need to stop this shit. You need to stop before you get yourself killed. And if you won’t listen to Rick, then you’ll damn well listen to me. Got it?"

"Yeah," he said, almost whispering. "Got it."

"Good," you said. "Because this stops now. You’re done running off, done putting yourself at risk for no damn reason. From now on, you listen, just like before. We’re all a big team, Daryl, and we still are despite everything. Understand?"

"Yeah… Do ya still lo—" He started but stopped himself from speaking any further. "Are ya mad?"

"What? No, I’m not mad," you answered, stepping back to leave, wanting to give him some space. "But I’m hurt and disappointed."

Daryl sat there for a long time after you left. He gritted his teeth, and his fists were clenched, but it wasn’t anger. It was guilt. Shame even. All he knew was that he’d fucked up.

"Stupid, stupid fuckin’ idiot," he mumbled to himself, running a hand through his hair while he could still hear your voice in his head. "Fuckin’ piece o' shit. Can’t even keep yer damn head straight."

He felt like a fool, like a stubborn kid who’d just been put in his place. But it wasn’t just the anger that stuck with him—it was the look in your eyes, the pain and fear of what could’ve happened to him.

"Gotta make this right," he grumbled, now walking around the garage. "Ain’t gonna let her think I’m some reckless asshole who don’t care ‘bout nothin’." He rubbed the back of his neck. "She’s right… Been actin’ like a damn idiot. But… shit, need t’ prove I ain’t just some fuckup."

He knew you’d left him alone on purpose, letting him think about it, just like you’ve done several times before. But this time, he wasn’t going to sit here and wait for you to come back. He had a plan—a rather half-baked plan, but it was all he had. He needed to show you how much you meant to him and how much he needed you.

"Fuck, she’s gonna kill me," he sighed, shaking his head as he made his way out of the garage. And he knew exactly where and in what house he was going to find you.

You were already half asleep, lying on the floor on a mattress, when you felt someone being there—before you even opened your eyes. It was Daryl, of course, kneeling over you as he carefully pulled the sheets back.

"What the hell are you doing, Dixon?" You mumbled, still groggy. "Leave me alone."

He didn’t answer right away; he just pressed a kiss to your shoulder, then another, moving down your arm, his lips barely touching your skin. It was slow on purpose, like he was trying to worship every inch of you to make up for all the stupid shit he’d done. And it was working, even if it pissed you off that he thought he could just... seduce his way out of this.

"Daryl," you warned, but your voice was weak due to the way his strong, big hands were now sliding down your sides to your waist.

"‘M sorry," he whispered, before he kissed the sensitive spot on your neck. "Fucked it up, I know that. But need ya to know... I ain’t a fool. I need ya, more than ya fuckin’ know."

You wanted to stay mad, to shove him away from you and tell him to get his shit together, but his touch—God, it was like he knew exactly what he was doing, like he was taking away your anger with every kiss and every touch of his hands. And when he put his head lower, kissing along your ribs after he pulled up your shirt, you felt almost frustrated.

"Daryl," you breathed out as a warning again, but he didn’t stop. He slid his hands further up your shirt, pulling it over your head as he kissed down your ribs, his fingers grabbing your body like he was trying to show you that he was still alive.

"Need ya," he mumbled against your skin, his voice sounding almost desperate. "Need ya t’ know I ain’t takin’ this for granted."

"Daryl, stop…" You started, but your words were cut off by a gasp as he found that spot just above your waist, his lips kissing you harder, and his teeth softly biting your skin. You felt a shiver run through you, and hell, you hated how much you wanted this, how much you wanted him to keep going.

"I’ll stop if ya want me to, I swear," he whispered, but he didn’t stop, not really. His hands slid down, undoing your pants and wanting to slide them down, which made you stop breathing for a moment.

You were looking at him, your eyes narrowing. "You think you can just—" You started, but then he shut you up—kissing you hard and long, cutting off your words. And fuck, if it didn’t make your whole body shiver with need.

"Can’t help it," he muttered against your lips, his voice a little shaky, like he was losing control. "Can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout ya, ‘bout how much I need ya."

"You think this makes up for what you did? For your reckless behavior?" You asked, shaking your head slightly.

"Nah," he admitted. "Gotta show ya somehow. Gotta show ya how much I fuckin’ care."

You grabbed his wrists, pulling his hands away from your pants, even though you were already aching for him. "You don’t get to touch me like that," you said. "Not until I say so."

He swallowed hard, his breath stopping as he nodded, his eyes wide. "Please," he whispered, looking up at you and waiting for permission.

"Please what?" You demanded, tightening your grip on his wrists. "You think you can just come in here and expect me to forgive you? After everything?"

"Nah," he stammered, his eyes looking down to the floor again. "But… I need ya. I need ya t’ see that I can make it right."

"You wanna make it right, Daryl?" You asked again. "Then you’re gonna do exactly what I say, like I said."

"Yeah," he answered, his body almost trembling with the need to make you forgive him. "I’ll do whatever ya want."

You let go of his wrists, letting them fall back to his sides. "Take off your clothes," you ordered, the tone in your voice leaving no room for argument.

He hesitated for just a second, but then he started to stand up and get out of his clothes, his hands shaking as he got out of his shirt, then his pants, and the rest, until he was standing there, naked and vulnerable before you.

"Now get back on your knees," you demanded, watching as his eyes widened.

He dropped to his knees, waiting for your next command. And fuck, if that didn’t send a rush of power straight through you.

You stood over him, your hand reaching out to grab his hair, pulling his head back so he was forced to look up at you. "Look at me."

And he did. He slowly looked up in shame.

"You don’t get to play the lone wolf out there," you continued, stepping closer, your hand grabbing his chin, moving his head up further. "Not anymore. You almost got yourself killed."

"I know," he muttered. "‘M sorry..."

He wanted—no, he needed—to show you how he felt about his mistakes, and he was ready to do it on his knees if that’s what you demanded.

You let go of him, letting him fall forward, as you lay back down onto the mattress. "Show me," you simply said.

And he did—God, he did... He kissed every inch of you, his lips moving lower, his hands gripping your hips like he was afraid you might disappear, and he held onto you like you were the only person able to keep him safe.

He didn’t need to be told twice—he knew what he had to do to make things right.

You leaned back on the mattress, spreading your legs just enough to invite him closer, and watched his hands shake a little as they slid up your thighs.

"Yes," he whispered quietly. He was trying to be tough, but you could see through it. The man was already lost in you, in the need to make you feel good to make up for his earlier bullshit.

No, he couldn’t keep his hands off you; the way he now nearly ripped off the rest of your clothes was almost urgent.

"Goddamn," he whispered, his eyes wide and hungry as he took in the sight of you. "So fuckin’ beautiful."

His hands were trembling as he reached for your bra, fumbling with it before finally getting it off. He slid it off your shoulders, throwing it over to your pants on the floor, his eyes never leaving your breasts.

Daryl’s mouth went dry as he leaned in, his lips stopping just above one nipple. "Can’t believe yer lettin’ me touch ya like this," he whispered, more to himself than to you. Then he closed his mouth around your nipple, his tongue moving over it, making you gasp.

He sucked and licked, using his teeth just a little, sliding them lightly against it, while his other hand was pinching and rolling the other.

"Fuck, Daryl," you groaned, your hands moving through his hair, holding him close as he worshiped your breasts like they were the most important things in the world. "Don’t stop."

He growled against your skin and kept going; he kept sucking, licking, and teasing until your nipples were swollen and hard, sensitive to every little touch.

He soon pulled back, a line of spit connecting his mouth to your nipple before it broke, and he greedily licked over it once more. His eyes were full with need, his breathing heavy as he looked up at you, like he was waiting for permission to keep going.

"You’re going to be a good boy and keep worshipping me?" You asked, your voice teasing and commanding him at the same time.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Please… Need t’…"

"Then do it," you ordered, and that was all the encouragement he needed.

Daryl’s hands moved lower, sliding down your sides, moving along your hips before coming to a stop between your legs. His fingers brushed against your pussy, finding you already wet and wanting, and he let out a growl.

He started slowly, almost with hesitation, like he was worshipping at some holy altar. His lips brushed over the inside of your thighs, soft at first, but when you grabbed his hair again, he got the message. His mouth found your pussy the moment he ripped off your panties, and it was as if a switch flipped.

Daryl buried his face between your legs, his tongue working desperately, like he couldn’t get enough of you. You let out a moan, your hand tightening in his hair, guiding him but also keeping him under your control.

"Fuck, Daryl," you breathed out. "Just like that."

And he couldn’t stop, even if he wanted to. Every part of him was focused on you—on the taste of you, the way you trembled when he hit just the right spot. He was completely at your mercy, with the need to prove himself to make you proud.

You could feel him moan against you and how he was getting lost in it, in you. You knew he was desperate for more, desperate for any sign that he was doing good and that you’d forgive him. But you weren’t about to make it easy for him. Not yet, at least.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to get him away from you, and he looked up at you, his lips wet and parted, already missing the taste of you. "Please," he growled out, and you could see the need to do more, to have more of you.

"You keep listening to me. You understand?" You asked, caressing his head gently.

"Yeah," he stammered and nodded in return.

You pushed his head back down, with his tongue slipping inside your pussy almost immediately, like he was trying to eat out every bit of forgiveness he could get.

And fuck, did it feel good. The way he was eating out your pussy, every little move of his tongue, the way he sucked on your clit just hard enough to make you see stars—it was like he was made for this, made to worship you.

"Fuck, don’… don’ make me stop," he growled out in between. He was trembling now, hands still gripping your hips tightly, his eyes wide with something that seemed close to panic, like he couldn’t stand being away from you for even a second.

But you leaned down, grabbing his chin, forcing him to look at you. "You want to make this right? You wait until I’m ready."

He nodded quickly, swallowing hard, his eyes pleading without a word and barely holding it together. He was ready to do anything you asked, to wait as long as you wanted him to, just for a chance to taste you again.

"Good boy," you moaned, suddenly pulling him up to kiss you, tasting yourself on his lips. He kissed you like he was starved for it, holding on for dear life.

And you could feel how hard he was—the desperate twitching of his already leaking cock against your thigh—but you weren’t done teasing him yet. "You’re doing so good, Daryl. Go on now."

"Yes, mommy," he whimpered, the word coming out of his mouth before he could even stop it.

"What did you just call me?" You asked in shock and froze.

Daryl’s eyes widened in shock and panic. "Didn’t mean t’ say that," he said, his voice trembling. "I jus’—"

"Say it again," you commanded, cutting him off. "Say it."

He swallowed hard, his eyes looking around as if searching for an escape, but he knew he couldn’t hide from you. "Yes, mommy," he whispered quietly, a shiver running through him as he said the word again.

But you didn’t miss the way his eyes dropped to the floor. "Good boy," you simply answered. "Go on…"

He didn’t hesitate, his hands following the curves of your body again, his lips following close behind. He kissed down your neck, in between your breasts, along your stomach as he moved lower, his hands soon enough sliding up your thighs and over your pussy.

"Shit," he mumbled, his eyes widening as he realized just how ready you were for him. "Yer so fuckin’ wet."

He didn’t say anything else, too focused on what he was doing. His fingers moved through your wet folds, teasing you until you were trembling with need, and he circled your clit with his thumb slowly on purpose, watching your face for every little reaction.

And one moan—that was all he needed. He leaned in, his mouth replacing his fingers, his tongue sliding over your clit, licking and sucking it gently all over. He didn’t rush, didn’t hurry, and took his time.

"Fuck, Daryl," you moaned, your fingers gripping his hair, holding him in place as he devoured you. "That’s it… don’t stop."

He didn’t need to be told twice. He kept going, kept licking, sucking, and teasing until you were right on the edge and close to coming.

The control he was giving you made you feel powerful, and hell, if that wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever experienced.

"Please, mommy," he begged. "Lemme make ya cum now."

"Keep going," you commanded, feeling yourself getting closer due to his words. "Don’t stop. Oh, fuck…"

He obeyed, and when you finally came, you gasped and moaned, your body arching and trembling under the force of it. But as soon as you began to come down from your orgasm, you noticed how he started to get more aggressive, his hands gripping your hips harder. He pulled back slightly, his eyes burning into yours as he moved back up.

"Wanna fuck ya," he growled almost primal, grabbing his cock and pushing it against your pussy.

But you shoved him back. "Not so fast," you said. "You’re going to do it my way."

He looked at you with frustration and desperation. "But… I need ya," he said, his voice cracking a little bit. "Please!"

You didn’t give in. Instead, you watched as he tried to hold himself back. "If you want more, you’re going to have to do it my way, Daryl. How many times do I have to tell you?"

"Yeah, ‘kay," he murmured and nodded, his voice trembling.

"Not yet," you said, wrapping your hand around his shaft. The hardness of his cock was pulsing against your hand, and you enjoyed the power it gave you. "You’re going to wait a little longer."

Daryl’s breath hitched, his fingers digging into the mattress as he tried to control himself. "Please," he begged, his voice raw and desperate. "Need it."

You only smiled, slowly stroking him, your movements maddeningly slow. "You want more?" You teased, leaning closer to him. "You want me to keep going? To make you cum already as well?"

He nodded quickly. "Yes! Please, mommy. Can’t take it no more!"

You took your time, each move up and down his shaft, making him moan and writhe.

"Fuck, don’ stop," he groaned. "Please, I can’t—"

"Hush now," you interrupted, squeezing his cock. "You’re going to wait until I say so. If you want to be a good boy, you’ll follow my instructions."

Daryl’s cock was coated in his pre-cum and throbbing in your hand, and every time you squeezed just a little harder, he would shiver, his voice breaking into pleas and whimpers.

"Please… ‘M so close," he whimpered. "Can’t hold back much longer."

You looked down at him, smirking, and then you jerked him faster and harder, bringing him right to the edge. His body was tense and almost painfully trying to hold off his orgasm.

"Daryl," you said softly, your hand driving him mad. "I want you to beg for it. Just a little bit more."

His pleas turned into desperate murmurs as he struggled with himself. "Please… Need t’… Jus’ let me... Oh fuck!"

With a final pump, you brought him right to the very edge again, feeling his cock throbbing against your palm. Then, just when you could see he was about to break, you pulled back, stopping altogether.

Daryl let out a whimper, his eyes desperate. "Fuck, please… Need it."

You leaned in close, kissing his neck. "Not yet. I want you to really feel it, to know how much you need me."

"Please," he begged again. "Please..."

"Tell me how much you need it," you smiled at him.

He swallowed hard, his voice cracking as he spoke. "Need it so bad, mommy, please... Need t’ cum for ya. Need ya..."

You gave him one final, hard stroke, and then you stopped again, making him groan and tremble over you, the muscles in his arms tensing up painfully hard. "Good boy," you whispered, finally giving him permission to slide into your pussy, just not all the way.

"No further," you said. "Just the tip. Hold it back."

He groaned, his hands gripping the sheets next to you on the mattress. "Please," he begged, his voice breaking. "Lemme fuck ya..."

You ignored his pleas, your hand still pumping up and down his shaft. "Say it," you commanded. "Say you’re my good boy, Daryl."

"‘M yer good boy," he mumbled, closing his eyes in embarrassment.

Finally, when you could see the look on his face—the way he was practically begging to come—you leaned in. "You want it now?"

"Yeah," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Please, mommy..."

His cock was pulsing, the tip pressing into you just enough to make him groan but not enough to give him what he wanted.

You watched as a sudden tear rolled down his cheek—a single, small, and tiny drop. The sight of it—so rare for someone like Daryl—made you widen your eyes. You could see the complete surrender—the way he was completely at your mercy.

Without warning, you pushed against him, taking him all the way in, and made him cry out, his body shuddering as he filled you up and feeling your pussy stretch around his cock. The look of shock and ecstasy on his face was too much, even for you. His eyes widened, his lips parting slightly, and his cock was pulsing inside you, his body trembling uncontrollably.

"Fuck! Fuck…"

And the moment you took him in fully, he came hard inside of you with a loud groan, his body trying to push in as deep as possible as he reached his orgasm, while you held him close, feeling the last of his cum filling you up as he finished.

You soon lay there, your body still tingling, but Daryl, on the other hand, was a mess after he quickly pulled out of you. Now his walls were coming back up, and he was doing his best to act like he didn’t need a damn thing from you.

He was trying to play it cool, turning his face away, still shaking a little bit. "Jus’… gotta go," he mumbled, trying to shove you away. "Don’ need ya all up in m’ shit now."

"Oh, come on. You can’t be serious," you smirked, running a finger teasingly down his chest.

He glared at you, trying to push you away once more. "‘M fine. Jus’ leave me ‘lone," he grumbled.

"Look at you, all tough and cold again. But you were begging for it only a minute ago." You let your hand move over his skin, feeling his muscles twitch. "And now you’re just going to be an ass about it? Not a chance."

He froze as you touched him. "Shut up," he snapped. "Don’t need yer damn pity."

You rolled your eyes, leaning in close. "Pity? This isn’t pity, Daryl."

He tried to pull away again, but you held him close, your hands moving up to his chin. You tilted his head so he had no choice but to look at you.

"Seriously?" You said with a smile. "You’re going to act like a brat now? After everything?" You moved closer, teasing him with a kiss on his lips.

Daryl’s breath stopped for a second, and you felt him shudder under your touch. "Fuck off," he muttered, but it was sounding rather weak, almost as if he was trying to convince himself more than you.

You laughed, cupping his chin more firmly. "Make me. Or... maybe you really are just a brat who needs to be put in his place all over again."

He shivered as he fought with himself. "No… Don’ need this," he mumbled, but it was clear he was losing the battle against himself. His voice was getting quieter, and he knew that he was failing miserably.

Then, you finally met his lips with yours. It was a slow, gentle kiss, with you wanting to give him reassurance. He moaned against them, the sound full of desperation.

When you pulled back, you saw how his eyes were wide, and he suddenly nuzzled up against you, his face buried in your neck, his body trembling as if he was trying to hold onto whatever was left of his defenses.

"‘M so sorry," he murmured against your skin, his voice breaking. "Didn’ mean t’... I jus’—"

You ran your fingers through his hair, cuddling him closer as he clung to you. "Quiet," you whispered, putting your lips against his forehead. "It’s okay."

He wrapped his arms around you, his grip a little rough as if he was afraid you might slip away. "I fucked up," he said. "Almos’ got m’self killed an’ hurt ya. ‘M so damn sorry."

You held him close, his body pressed against yours. "I know," you said softly. "But you’re still alive, Daryl."

But the moment of calm was ruined when Daryl’s body tensed up again, with him starting to sob violently.

"Shit," he choked out, tears rolling down his cheeks. "‘M such a fuckin’ asshole. Messed everythin’ up. Could’ve died an’—"

You shushed him, holding him even tighter, pressing kisses to his temples. You didn’t say much, letting your actions speak louder than any words even could.

He kept mumbling apologies, his sobs so intense that they shook his whole body. "Ain’t good ‘nough. ‘M worthless. Jus’ a useless piece o’ shit," he sobbed further, his voice cracking.

You gently cupped his face again, lifting it so you could look into his wet eyes. Slowly, you wiped the tears away with your thumbs, kissing his cheeks where the tears had been rolling down.

"Hush," you whispered softly. "You’re not a useless piece of shit. You’re not worthless. You made a mistake, but you’re here, and you’re alive. That’s what matters."

He needed to hear that you weren’t disappointed and that you still loved him despite everything.

Daryl looked up at you, his eyes all red and swollen, but his sobbing began to calm down. And as he finally started to relax, his grip on you softened, but he didn’t let go. He was still clinging to you, needing you to remind him that he was loved and that he was enough.

"Thanks," he whispered quietly. "For… everythin’."

You smiled to yourself, playing with his hair. "Anytime," you murmured, pressing another soft kiss to the top of his head.

You didn’t need to say anything more; your arms around him were enough to help him find his way back to feeling okay. The walls he’d built were finally down, and for now, he was just Daryl—raw and in need of someone to help him piece himself back together.

TAG-LIST: @itwasntaphasema

[nawoken]

How will the NRC boys react when you overblot with the thought of suicide?

I don't know what I am doing, but since many people are interested in Suicide Overblot Reader, I will write something for it then. Reference to this post.

I think I will try to do all of them. I hope...

Some might be OOC because I don't understand their character enough (Trey and Cater in this post case), sorry if it bothers you guys.

I don't really write it as platonic or romantic, try to keep it neutral so u can read it the way u want?

Warning: Mention of suicide, self-destructive, angst, depression(?), blood,... a bit heavy thought I guess?

Part: Hearslabyul

Riddle

- When he reaches Ramshackle and sees you got overblot, he is uneasy but still remains calm and serious.

- Slightly think that part of this is his fault for not paying more attention to you. He knows that you had to bear a lot of things lately, with school, with Crowley's unreasonable quest,...

- But, he has to stay strong, he has to, he is a Housewarden after all.

- But... when Riddle sees you hurt yourself, he is stunned and terrified. This can't be happening, it shouldn't be.

- He hears your faint cries about your insecurities, your fear of being a burden... and your wish to disappear.

- It makes him heartache, wonder what has made you reach this point. Then, it hit him, every word he told you when you guys first knew each other, before his overblot, and before he changed.

- This must be his fault, he has hurt you... Riddle lost in his guilt, almost overblot right then and there.

- Even Trey can't pull him back to reality, but Ace's punch can.

- "Stop blaming yourself, don't you want to save them?" It actually helps Riddle calm down.

- Riddle braced himself, he had to make it right, so he could apologize to you properly.

- You got him traumatized. And you guys will also have a longgg conversation after things end.

Trey:

- He is... a lil bit shocked and worried about the situation. But, years of taking care of Riddle and his maturity helped him stay calm.

- Even when you hurt yourself, he only flinches a bit before pulling out his pen and trying to destroy the black inky thorns without hurting you.

- Things get worse when Riddle loses his sanity and starts to blame himself while Ace and Deuce lose their cool, kicking and fighting to get to you.

- Try to calm Riddle down. But it's no use.

- Ace's outbursts still make him surprised every time, but at least things have become more stable. They can focus on the main problem now.

- He keeps calm through it all, but when everything comes to an end, he falls to the ground and exhales all his built-up tension.

- He will check in on you a lot more. Reaching out to you, asking about your day, and baking you a lot of treats. Become your figure mother at some point...

Cater:

- Like Trey, being the third-year he is, Cater is much more mature and reliable than he seems.

- Use his unique magic, protect the first year, and even try to lighten the mood while keeping an eye on you.

- He is not too worried since everyone is gathering here, to save you! So nothing can be wrong... right?

- The moment he sees the blood splatter out of your body, he inhales sharply and trembles slightly before turning around to block the view of the freshmen.

- But he fails to keep them from the view, so now Ace and Deuce go berserk. At least Epel and Jack are still sober enough to hold the duo back.

- Multitasking. Become much more serious.

- After it all, he won't force you to tell him things but he will talk with you a lot more, maybe about this funny meme or some new trend on Magicam. Do his best to make you laugh.

Ace:

- He first tries to joke about this when he sees you in your oveblot form. Act cool and funny but can't hide his care for you. Swear that he will knock you on your head a few times for making them worry sick.

- The moment you hurt yourself? Ace and Deuce tried to rush toward you but got held back by other first-years.

- Scold you, told you to stop hurting yourself, and even threatened that if you don't stop he will fight you...

- Also scold you for being stupid. Yes, you're magicless but you also have survived many life-or-death situations that even a pro mage can't. You're not useless!!!

- Asked Riddle to do something just to find out his dorm leader is having a mental breakdown right there.

- He punches Riddle (the second time), how can he act like that when you're still in danger?!

- Ace also cooled down after that, he left the job of returning you to normal to the Dorm leader while helping others destroy those blot-made thorns to prevent them from hurting you.

- You guys will have to talk a lot after this, and you know can't avoid it, Prefect.

Deuce:

- His face turned pale the moment he saw you. Out of anyone, he doesn't think you're the one who got overblot.

- Especially when you stab yourself, he lost his mind. The moment he runs out to you, Epel holds him back. Others told him to calm down, to make a plan.

- But, Deuce can't even hear a word, all he can hear is your whimpering and the scene of the thorns lunging through your flesh keeps playing in his mind.

- Like Riddle, he also blames himself. The difference is that he blames himself for not looking out for you more. You guys have been friends since the beginning and you are always taking care of them, but they have failed to do so for you.

- The guilty feeling building up inside him made him mad, he wanted to punch, to fight, to take his anger out on something.

- After the "fight" between Riddle and Ace went off, Deuce finally calmed down.

- After things end, the moment you back to normal, he will immediately run to you and hold you close, afraid that if he lets go, you will disappear.

- Says sorry to you again and again...

- Become a bit paranoid and protective after your suicide attempt.

____________

5.C: This took me forever to finish, now I have 17 more to finish. Gotta say, Riddle is the easiest person to write about.

[dragonsbluee]

So I've recently been re-reading TCF And chapter 196 is such an excellent example of how Cale interacts with the people around him, how he views himself and how they view him. This is also at the point in the novel where he hasn't really accepted that he is Cale now, not KRS, because he doesn't feel like he can.

So anyway, we start the chapter seeing the people of Rain City react to Cale's shield and they say something important!

"Won't he faint is he uses such a large shield? Why doesn't he just activate it when the northern bastards come?" "Can't you tell? He doesn't want to see us or the territory getting hurt at all."

At first, I thought this was just the regular drama of people reacting to Cale, but then Choi Han, the kids, and Ron tell him he's being ridiculous, and I realize the townsfolk are right.

The Wyvern Battle is only the 2nd or 3rd major battle Cale has been in so far but only as Cale. As KRS, he's done this before, and having read later chapters, we know Cale holds so much guilt over those battles and how he wanted to keep those he cared for away from it all but couldn't. After all, record only gives him information to guide them and make plans; he often couldn't physically protect them. How many times has he defended a shelter or teammates and wished he could have just covered them all with a shield instead of giving commands from the back? We know how guilty he feels over Choi Jung Soo and Lee Soo Hyuk's deaths.

He knows he doesn't have to keep it up, and he's the one who spreads a rumour that it's taking all of his energy, but he's already considering himself a "bad person" for taking military command and only giving orders. (except that's what it means to take military command?) There is absolutely another motive for keeping the shield around the city. Cale wants the opposing forces to view him as weakened, or he doesn't want people to think his power is as strong as it is. However, at the same time, he's absolutely protecting them because, just like the townsperson says, he doesn't want to see any of them get hurt by an attack he could have blocked.

Cale is doing what he can to undermine himself while claiming he's going to make everyone else the hero of this battle, but he won't drop the shield, which means no one can disregard or forget his involvement. It's not intentional! He's just literally made himself the first line of defense as a direct parallel to every time he was the last line as KRS. He wants to stay at the back, he does not plan to get involved unless he has to, but Cale won't let himself stay out of it. So the shield goes up and stays for multiple days.

Meanwhile, all Choi Han, Ron and the kids see is Cale surrounded by paperwork (because taking command of the entire Northeast is a lot of work), keeping a shield up that's known to make him cough up blood (they don't know about it getting stronger or the vitality of heart), and only sleeping 1 to 2 hours a night (thank you crybaby), so they assume it's a combination of work and concentration to keep the shield up. As usual, they're worried and frustrated at Cale's self-sacrificing tendencies.

We haven't even gotten to the actual battle yet, but this is such a great setup of how it's going to go and how the novel goes.

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Hot-Hot Rock Debut: Super Mario Bros. Wonder

You know something I love about the Mario series? Its tendency to use reduplication to put emphasis on certain words. You thought your average everyday mountain was tall? Well this is a Tall Tall Mountain. You've never seen docks quite this dire before! And it's not even just adjectives that get in on the fun! Rock Rock Mountain, Ice Ice Outpost, I love that something can be more "rock" or "ice" than something else. Sometimes a word is so nice, you just wanna say it twice twice.

Hot-Hot Rocks are one of the latest additions to this long-running Mario trend, and also one of our latest Cubic Companions! You know, Blocks are very important to the Mario franchise, but how many enemies can you think of that are blocks...? The answer should be a lot. This was a Mod Hooligon Trick and you may or may not have fallen for it. I can't tell unless you tell me, alright?

Hot-Hot Rocks first appear in the level Hot-Hot Hot! (this is an example of a linguistic phenomenon known as "threeduplication"), where they serve as one of the primary obstacles. As long as Hot-Hot Rocks are Not-Hot, you can stand on them like any other platform. But when they start glowing red, you better get out of the kitchen, because Mario and friends can't stand the heat!

Of course, a little water is all it takes to turn Hot-Hot Rocks into Not-Hot Rocks for good, so spray them with Elephant Mario's trunk or a precariously placed pot of water, and they won't be able to hurt you anymore!

Hot-Hot Rocks have a symbiotic relationship with another new enemy called Kerpop, which will probably get its own post someday, likely courtesy of Mod Chikako. These guys act like Goombas most of the time, but when they touch a hot Hot-Hot Rock, they will pop and begin jumping around! How cute! This attention to detail is what makes Super Mario Bros. Wonder truly special.

That's about all there is to Hot-Hot Rocks, but we're not quite done yet, because this post is about to get all philisolophical(sic)! Because as Weird Mario Enemies, an important part of that title-we-love-to-defy-and-love-bringing-up-how-much-we-love-to-defy-it is knowing what an "enemy" is to begin with. And so we must ask ourselves: what is an enemy? What separates an enemy from an obstacle? And is there even a meaningful difference...?

I can't say I can give you an answer. But I can give you a bunch of thought exercises under the cut! You like those, right?

You do like those! Thanks for looking under the cut, I really appreciate it.

So if we want to have a discussion of what counts as an "enemy" in the context of a video game, we should probably have a rough definition of what we think an "enemy" is in the first place. It's tough to look for edge cases of something that doesn't have any edges.

I personally think a good starting definition is along the lines of "a character designed with the intent of hurting the player," or something roughly like that. And now that we have a definition, we can scrutinize the hell out of it!

On the left we have Thwomp. Thwomp is a classic Mario Enemy. The kind you'd see featured on @regularmarioenemies. We invite Thwomp over for dinner every Sunday, and Thwomp always smashes the dinner table because that's just what Thwomp does. On the right we have Karamenbo. Karamenbo does the exact same thing that Thwomp does, but it doesn't have a face! And despite the fact they act the exact same way, this simple design difference leads to most people considering Thwomp an "enemy" and Karamenbo an "obstacle"!

Is the difference between an enemy and an obstacle really something so simple as having a face? And if so...

What do we make of Lava Bubble, another Classic Mario Enemy that only sometimes has a face? Are they only an enemy when they have a face? Or are they allowed to always be enemies in spite of their occasional facelessness? Or alternatively, are they prohibited from being enemies despite their occasional befacedness? I don't know, and my "the fact I am writing for this blog" tells me I should probably be an expert in this field!

And what about Moonsnake? What could easily be dismissed as a simple obstacle like a Spike Bar is revealed by in-game text to be a living creature! Does this allow it to be classified as an enemy instead? Does something become an enemy just because there's text saying it's alive? Do ghosts and robots count as alive? Is a thorny flower an enemy instead of an obstacle, or does the specific choice of the word "creature" make a meaningful distinction here?

What if I told you there's official text calling Karamenbo a type of Thwomp, does that change your perception of it?

And we haven't even started touching on the idea of whether or not enemies need to hurt you. Let me ask you an important question...

Are Hoppos enemies? They can not hurt you. Whenever you touch them, you just bounce off, and sure, you might be bounced into something that can hurt you, but Hoppo is just an animal. Is it really Hoppo's fault? Could Hoppo be charged with manslaughter for bouncing Mario into a bottomless pit? Are bottomless pits a type of enemy?

Flomps, Bomps, these can not hurt you directly, but they can cause you to get hurt! And they're relatives of Thwomp, too! Do these factors matter in defining them as an enemy? Bomps act basically the same as the Push-Blocks from Super Mario Odyssey, and the wiki classifies those as mere platforms!

Is mayonnaise an enemy? I don't even know anymore!

Basically, enemies are a subclass of obstacle but there's not really a meaningful distinction that separates them. Literally the only thing that separates an enemy from an obstacle is the Vibes. Nothing else matters! Sorry! But what does that mean for our blog...?

Absolutely nothing! As I've said multiple times, we stopped caring about that distinction ages ago. We're hardly even a Mario blog anymore! I just wanted to subject you to my ramblings because I've had this in the back of my mind for a while now and well I had to say it somewhere.

And since I subjected you to several paragraphs of ramblings that amount to basically nothing... am I an enemy...?

[literaila]

Ok it's headcanon time what do you think Peter's reaction would be when him and his friend who've been bffs for years and are very comfortable with physical touch suddenly starts to pull away from him cause she saw him flirting with another girl at thier college mixer and so she starts to pull away from his physical touches cause she feel like she should finally be able to move on from him and start her college life without pining after him all the time and slowly peter starts noticing that she always give him affection when he needs it on his tough days but refuses his touch even when he remotely comes near her

🌌

just so you know

tasm!peter x fem!reader

a/n: sorry this took ages, i forgot how to write (there was a more perfect gif but tumblr hates me)

*

“what’s going on?”

you look up again, meeting uncertain eyes with a fake sense of amusement. you know what you’re doing, and so does peter.

“what?” you tease, running your hand over plastic price tags and years of dust, staring down at ceramic mugs and tiny scentless candles.

peter puts his hand on your back, walking with you, and as a subtle and graceful friend, you quickly move away from him, pretending to kneel down and look at a set of plates.

“that. this—this thing that your doing.” peter points to you like it’s a physical entity. some thing you’re holding just to hurt him. a handful of tricks.

“looking at cat mugs?” you ask, eyebrow raised.

“avoiding me. pretending like you haven’t been evading every question i’ve asked.”

you frown, but don’t look up. you finger a curved handle, swallow and let the lies slip from your mouth without any effort. if you’ve been distant from peter recently, it’s nothing but an accident. a practiced maneuver. “i’m not avoiding you.”

“you haven’t looked at me all day.”

“i’m looking at you right now, peter.” and so you do.

peter smiles, laughs a bit, his chest rising and falling, but it’s frustrated. he runs a hand through his hair, shakes his head. and then he bends down and wraps his hand around your arm, pulling you up before you get the chance to stop him.

and you would stop him, you know, if he hadn’t already pointed out that you’ve been doing it all day. for at least the past week.

his touch burns, like a singe on your already red wounds. and even though he’s smiling at you, being as gentle as peter always is, you can see your tension, can feel your own hesitation in his skin.

“did i hurt you, or something?” he asks, biting the inside of his cheek. “i know we—well, we’re not um, that hesitant with being close, touching and stuff, but if i did something accidentally—“

“you haven’t hurt me, peter.”

“okay… then what’s going on? do you need to discuss boundaries with me?”

“what?” you laugh.

“i’m not trying to make you uncomfortable,” peter says, softly, like you’re some breakable thing. “i just want to make sure that you—that we’re okay.”

“of course we’re okay, peter.”

and then, that’s not quite true.

when you look into peters eyes, it’s not an auburn storm that you see. it’s not even yourself being reflected in his irises.

it’s flashing lights and music that made your head pound. there’s sticky floors and too many people—so much air, and too much breathing in such a small room. you see people laughing and singing, hands and bodies intertwined like it would hurt to be apart.

and it’s all sort of beautiful and disturbing, all sort of a lot—but then, there’s familiar hands, running up an unfamiliar body. peter had asked you to dance, but you knew it was only so he could laugh because he knew that you couldn’t.

when you look into peters eyes you see her. and there’s such a strong fire ignited in your chest, such a vehement jealousy that you have to look away.

you have to physically pull yourself away from him just so you don’t feel like that. just so you can tell yourself that it’s not fair.

“we’re fine,” you repeat, softly, and you look away from him. turn away, so you can block yourself away from his all too knowing stare.

you don’t pull away from his hands, but god do you want to. you want to take a break from him, a break from all of this until you can promise yourself that you just don’t care.

that you don’t crave his side stepping and hand holding and resting your head on his shoulder or leaning against his chest. that isn’t fair.

you clear your throat; you can’t lie to him, and it’s not like peter is going to let you. “it’s just…” you start, stepping towards him and then away. “i don’t know if lindsay would be comfortable with it.”

peters face flinched, he tilts his head at you. “lindsay?”

“i don’t want to get in the way of anything…”

“get in the way of what?”

you meet his eyes and laugh. “c’mon, peter. you’re not as discreet as you think you are. there was that night at the club and then the “study” dates you’ve been going on.”

“that wasn’t anything—“ peter is quick to get out, but you shove his shoulder, pretending your laughter isn’t painful.

“save it, loverboy. if you want to hold someone’s hand,” you tease, “it should be your girlfriends. i was surprised you even asked me to come gift hunting today.”

peter swallows. “she’s not my girlfriend.”

you nod, turning away from him. “yeah, okay.”

“i’m serious. we’ve been working on a project for bio-chem, that’s all.”

“i’m not blind, peter.”

he walks when you do, leaning his head down until he can see your face. “don’t you think i’d tell you if started dating someone and it was serious?”

“um, no, not really. we don’t ever talk about that stuff.”

“yeah, because you get weird whenever i bring it up.”

“i don’t get weird—“ you say, turning to glare at him. he’s closer than you expected though so whatever you were about to say falls into the air. it blows away with the feel of peters breath on your cheek.

“i would tell you,” he says, “if i had a girlfriend.”

you lean away from him, taking a deep breath in. “okay, peter. but the point still stands. you shouldn’t be holding hands with me while you’ve got a girl who’s waiting for you to get your head out of your ass. or stop lying. whatever.”

“i don’t want to hold her hand.”

peters voice is soft, and his hand is gentle as it lands on your waist. he pulls you to him, like he’s sure that you’re going to run away.

“well now i know why you don’t have a girlfriend.”

peter chuckles, staring down at you with burning eyes. and this time, when you look at him, you see only a secret catching fire. “i don’t have a girlfriend because i want to hold your hand,” he whispers, a finger brushing up against your jaw.

“o-oh.”

you stare at him, unsure what else to say.

what other announcements need to be made, what other proclamations you should probably get in writing.

peter smiles again, wider. he lets go of you and turns so his shoulder is to you. and then he grabs your hand.

“just so you know,” he says, smirk far too much.

just so you know.

*

[starkwlkr]

Can I request a protective Max going above and beyond to keep his gf or fiancee (you take the call) safe from a stalker? I'd leave the rest to your imagination on how to make it dramatic cause I love drama.

nothings going to hurt you baby | max verstappen

Y/n was always a private person, but that all changed when she met Max. She was often seen in the paddock supporting her boyfriend. She went from staying in on Friday nights to traveling around the world to watch Max race. She realized how many eyes were on her when her friend sent her multiple articles with her name in bold letter on the front cover.

It was the first race of the season and Y/n was once again in the paddock. This time though she was alone. Her friend that usually accompanied her to the races was busy. As she walked towards the Red Bull hospitality, the usual photographers took her picture. Even after years of dating Max, she was never getting used to the constant flashing lights that belonged to the cameras.

When she reached the hospitality, she sat at a table near the window and took out her phone. It was a regular routine for Y/n now. Stay a few minutes in the Red Bull hospitality, meet up with Max before the race then went up to the paddock roof and watched the race from there.

After spending sometime alone, she put her phone in her pocket and walked out of the hospitality, completely unaware that a man had followed her out. In a few short minutes, she found herself entering the Red Bull garage.

“Is Max in his driver’s room?” She asked Max’s engineer, Gianpiero. He nodded with a smile and continued his work.

Y/n walked to the driver’s room and knocked lightly until she heard Max’s voice telling her to come in. She opened the door and saw Max finishing putting on his race suit.

“How are you feeling?” Y/n asked, approaching Max and giving a kiss on the lips.

“Well since you’re here, I’m feeling pretty good. You know I always do well when you’re here.” Max replied. “I don’t want you to be alone so you can stay in the garage instead.”

“Max, I’ll be fine. There’s going to be people around me so I won’t be alone.” Y/n assured him.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Some fan might want to bother you. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable during the race.”

“I’ll be fine, Max.”

Of course that didn’t happen.

During the race, she could feel eyes on her. It was kind of normal since most fans recognized her as Max Verstappen’s girlfriend. But this time, Y/n felt different. Her mother always told her to trust her gut feeling. So in that moment she did. Y/n walked down the stairs of the paddock roof and tried to walk to the Red Bull garage but some man ran into her.

“I’m so sorry. Oh, you’re a very pretty girl. I’m sorry.” He told her.

“Excuse me, I need to be somewhere.” Y/n tried walking away but he blocked her way.

“Where to? You look lost.”

“I know where I’m going so please move.” Y/n started feeling scared. She should’ve listened to Max.

“Woah, no need to get mad. I’m a nice guy. Why are girls always mean to the nice guys?” He asked.

“I’m done talking to you.” Y/n pushed past the man. She had a feeling he would start to follow her so she walked a bit faster towards the garage that only the Red Bull team (including her) could enter. When she arrived, she let out a sigh of relief.

She remained in the garage until the end of the race. Max had ended up on the podium once again. Y/n wanted to celebrate with the team and Max, but she once again had the feeling that the scary man would take the opportunity to find her so she stayed in the garage while the team celebrated another win.

When Max arrived to the garage, he first went up to his girlfriend, obviously confused as to why she wasn’t out in the track.

“I’m sorry. I was scared and I should’ve listened to you and stayed here. I’m so sorry.” Y/n rambled as Max gave her a much needed hug.

“Hey, what’s wrong? I’m here.” Max assured her, pressing light kisses to her forehead.

“On the roof, I had this strange feeling so I was on my way down here and this guy wouldn’t let me walk away, Max. He tried following me so I came here as fast as I could.” Y/n explained. “I should’ve listened to you.”

“You’re okay now. You’re here with me and that’s all that matters. I’m not letting some guy hurt you.”

Max had talked with Christian about making sure someone was always with Y/n during a race. The team leader even made sure the garage had more security. Now, Y/n felt more safe. Every race after the incident, she stayed in the garage and if she wanted to watch the race from a different location, someone was always with her, even when it came to watching Max celebrate on the podium. Max wasn’t going to let anyone hurt the woman he loves.

Right after the podium ceremony, he would make sure to check on Y/n before he was pulled away for interviews.

“How are you feeling?” Max asked Y/n as he wiped his face with a towel. Y/n smiled at him and kissed his lips that tasted like champagne.

“I’m more than okay. Thank you.” Y/n replied.

“I have a couple interviews to do. Sarah said she would stay with you.” Max informed his girlfriend.

“Sometimes I feel like Sarah is my babysitter. I love her, remind me to get her something good for her birthday. I’m thinking a trip to the Bahamas.” Y/n chuckled.

“I think she’ll love that.”

[girl-in-the-chairs-void]

Hold me, Console me

Pairing; Logan x reader

C/w; hurt/comfort, fluff, Logan having nightmares

A/N; LOGAN HAS BEEN ON MY MINDDDD. Here’s a little mind dump for ya. Listen to “no one noticed” by the Marias because it’s literally the inspo for it!!!!

part 2 heheh

You and Logan were…different. He felt different with you, having all his walls broken down within weeks of meeting you; he never thought he’d feel so open again.

But there was something that always tugged at you. He leaves, during the night when you’ve dozed off into a deep sleep. He dozes off on the couch.

His groans and grunts when he has his nightmares was not unfamiliar to you and you wish you could help him through it but just won’t open up, won’t take down that last wall that you’ve been trying so hard to climb or break or just paw at.

He was having another one of those dreams- no nightmares, his past, dead faces everywhere. Flashes of the people he’s loved and lost; his mind mocking him with the fast forwarded slide show of all the horrible things that he’s endured. He doesn’t hear you at first. Your muffled pleas, calling his name.

Then he hears a desperate “Logan, please, wake up.”

And suddenly everything goes white. He takes deep breath through his mouth, sitting up on the leather couch suddenly. His claws come out in an instant as you jump back to avoid getting impaled, eyes wide.

His breathing is heavy- ragged, you were too close.

“Logan,” you crawl towards him, slow. A prey approaching its predator willingly.

He sheaths his claws in a blink, heels of his palms squeezing his eyes shut. A sharp, “no” is uttered before he’s reaching for his shirt and making a beeline for your door.

You run after him, blocking the door before he can reach the it.

“No, Logan! Not today,” your eyes are puffy, and pleading for him to stay. Just this once. “Please, stay”.

So fucking polite. He thinks. He could melt into you right then and there but he can’t. He can’t because he almost killed you. Almost hurt you.

You hurt her, like you hurt them. You hurt- you almost killed her. You killed them. You killed them. You killed her.

His face hardens at your plea but with one hand on his chest and a push, he can’t help but follow your orders.

“Baby…” He starts, choking back words, thinking in the fear of saying the wrong thing.

“Talk to me, Lo. You’ve been hiding here every night, in pain. I don’t like seeing you that way.” You sit him down on the plush yet worn out leather, sitting next to him. It groans under the weight of him and you as you let him sink further in.

He has half the mind and a full urge to pull you to your rightful seat on his lap, but he knows he can’t. Not right now.

“I can’t” his voice comes out shakier than he wanted it to. He doesn’t know what he can or can’t tell you. The horrors of his past have led him here, to you. Something he feels is permanent.

“You’ve endured a lot, life has given you too many hardships and I know it hasn’t been easy for you.” You say, reaching out your palm to wipe a stray tear away from his cheek, his beard tickling at your skin.

“But I want you to open up, please. Don’t like seeing you in pain, Lo.” You can feel your own tears running down your own cheeks.

He pulls you onto his lap, making you straddle him as he wipes your tears away silently. Pressing his lips to your forehead, he apologises in silent whispers; “I’m sorry” a kiss on your temple, “I’m so” his lips move down to your left cheek, “so sorry” then to your right before landing onto your own lips. It’s tender, filled with a thousand apologies and a million ‘I am here for you’s. He loves you, he really does.

“It’ll take time, bub.” He pulls away, hands still caging your face, calloused thumb brushing against your bottom lip as you up at him.

“It’s okay, take your time,” you cup his palm into your own, bringing it to your lips, peppering sweet kisses in the inside of it. So sweet.

“I’ll wait forever, but not too long, yeah?”

If only. If only that forever was actually as long as the word implied.

Because the next morning, you don’t wake up in the arms of the love of your life. There is no trace of him besides the lingering scent of his cigar.

He left without a trace.

[zerosuitsammi3]

If I can take a moment to share my experience as a trans woman on the internet

My experience is by no means unique, it's just one experience in the plethora of trans feminine experiences and not unique to only tumblr. Though, I'll mostly talk about what I've experienced here. In the light of recent events, the reaction of "the ceo," and the comments he contributed regarding dog pile harassment; I simply wish to share my experiences that I have had to juxtapose the dynamic of his statements against a lived experience.

This account started as a way to document my social transition and eventually my journey with HRT. Tumblr had always had a large lgbtqia+ community. The queer people here inspired me and gave me hope. What I didn't know, but soon learned, is that there were people here who hated me for being trans. Being early in my transition I was a prime target. TERF groups would plan raids on my account. What this entailed was: rebloging my selfies into circles that would say the most vile things about me, threaten to kill, tell me I was ugly, tell me that everyone I knew thought I was a joke, I was a monster, my family hated me, that I should kill myself, they'd download and edit my photos into caricatures or depictions of violence. They would fill my ask box with hundreds of asks detailing how they'd kill me, call me slurs, describe the ways that I should kill myself, and pretty much everything else I mentioned above with the reblogs. Their words were carefully curated to try and break me, break my spirit, break my will to live. I tried reporting it. But it was impossible to keep up with, and like many others I saw no real response. Eventually I learned that I had to block all of them. 100's of blogs, eventually 1000's of blogs. My block list these days is incredibly extensive. I had to wade through their blogs, traverse sickening hate speech and imagery to eliminate entire circles of people harassing me. I became jaded to the hate speech, hardened to it. But mind you, I shouldn't have had to expose myself to all of this just to be at peace here amongst my community. I received no help, I was left to my own devices to protect myself. The people who hurt me never saw consequences. It was painful, it was unfair, and no one else should have to put the hours upon hours of effort and exposure to hate in to protect themselves like I did. But again my experience is not unique.

I have had to repeat this process of preemptive blocking periodically once a new circle discovers me. Blocking them all before they can start the process of hate all over again. A process of hate that seems to be hitting my community with rapidly increasing fervor as of late.

I've seen others experience far worse than me. The TERF circles will hunt down their personal information and doxx them. Expose their home address, telephone numbers, names of their family members. I can't begin to imagine the terror my queer siblings must feel when someone tells then that they want to murder them all while showing them that they know where you live. This is not a new thing, not a rare tactic, it happens. And we've all seen the news stories of trans people being murdered by people who planned it and were vocal about it.

I know this is depressing. And it doesn't reflect all of my experiences. I've had wonderful experiences here, met amazing people, made close friends, found inspiration, found hope. I found a community.

And it's my community, and I never want to let it go.

I do have fear that making this statement will get me banned. But, I wanted to say it. I wanted it to exist in the world so that everyone who doesn't know our experiences has a chance to understand and with luck empathize.

I'll part on these words and hope for the best both for myself and for every member of the community.

[yoru-no-seiiki]

VILLAIN! READER WITH A YAN! MASOCHISTIC! PROTAGONIST

tw/cw: DDNE, mentions of abuse, actual abuse (by reader), implied parental neglect. protagonist’s gender is whatever you want it to be. gn pronouns.

[ second part ]

MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI OR I WILL BLOCK YOU.

You wholeheartedly believed that you’d rule the world one day. The oracles deemed it so, and the rest followed. The only problem being is that you’d rule with an iron fist, causing the death of millions under your tyrannical reign. Many opposed your position as heir to the throne.

In comes the protagonist, your adopted sibling who is also destined for great things. The difference being is that they’ll gain it through defeating you.

Everyday is a murderfest with you trying to kill the kid but because of plot armor they’re resistant to any and all sorts of spells, weapons and even people you’ve hired.

Yan! Protagonist who had been abused their entire life saw this as just an act of love. Even moreso since you were so determined to hurt them everyday. It must mean you adored them does it not? They don’t understand why they’re not able to die or properly get hurt by you though, so at times they’ll even try to get in your way to make it easier.

But this just ends up with you hating them further and further.

As the two of you grow up, tactics start to become even more underhanded and deadly. You had lost all sense of empathy and kindness at this point. You had also halted trying to hide your attempts as your sibling clearly knew of it anyways.

But with your duties increasing as well, you are unable to execute much of your assassination attempts much less see your sibling directly. It came to the point of dull poisoning plots of which Yan! Protagonist had literally gained an immunity to with how frequent it was.

Yan! Protagonist never wanted to become ruler. A kingdom was far too much to manage and think about. All they wanted was to relax and be with you.

But with you being all busy and ignoring them. . . they simply can not stand idle and let this be!

And so they throw themselves into their studies. Those that doubted the Protagonist are now in awe of the way they picked up things in addition to their overflowing determination. They must really want to take you down.

Unbeknownst to them, they were simply doing this so you’d go back to giving them your attention.

Years after you’d officially taken the throne, they barged into castle. Thousands of troops behind them as they declared,

—

“Exalted sibling, I’ve come to take the burden of the throne from your hands!” The protagonist stood before you in all their glory. Magnificent as the scriptures had foretold. Absolutely befitting for the next in line for the throne. Blessed with a face sculpted by the gods.

You wanted nothing more rip it from their skull and watch the blood rain down on their regal clothing.

“You’ll have to take it from my cold, dead body.”

The protagonist froze in their tracks. Your words and pure confusion taking a while to settle in.

Wait, what?

. . . to be continued

Anyways that’s just a smol part from one of my webtoon ideas i’ve been writing haha. It probably won’t be expanded on until I officially published that one and it’s like further down the list of webtoon order so oop-

©️ yoru.no.seiiki - yun | 2023

[minniesmutt]

hai hai haii bangchan + mamacita 👀

﹙ 🪐 ﹚

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐦𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐚

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: BANG CHAN X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: MAFIA!AU, MAFIA BOSS! CHAN, MISOGYNY, GUNS, ORAL (F. REC), FACE RIDDING, UNPROTECTED SEX, ☾ ━━━ WC: 1.2K ☾ ━━━ NOTE: not me listening to MAMACITA when you sent that hbjad ☾ ━━━ send me Chase Atlantic songs and a member to write a blurb about ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     The only person Chan trusted more than his seven friends was his girlfriend. Especially when he needed to give people a little push. Maybe because she was just the right level of crazy to date— let alone join his gang— a mafia boss.

     He had her on his arm at a banquet for the underground world. Security was tight for the event and Chan knew coming in, he was fine if someone tried something. Y/n stuck close to him the whole time. Her arm wrapped with his while she held a glass of champagne in the other. He watched how many other men looked at her as they walked by. It boosted his ego more.

     “Mr. Bang! How nice to meet you finally!” Something he’d heard all night

     “Mr. Lee. It’s nice to meet you as well,” Chan greeted the target, being the cordial businessman he was.

     It wasn’t long before more men he’d spoken to over the phone had joined his conversation, including some sons who were due to take over their father’s spot. He’d proudly introduced Y/n as his girlfriend to the group when asked. Y/n smiled and gave a small wave to the group.

     “How do you manage to pick up such a pretty lady Mr. Bang?” One of the sons asked

     “Pure luck,” Chan answered

     “You have her well trained. Been quiet as a mouse all night.” Mr. Lee joked causing the other men to laugh

     “Maybe you’re just not worth speaking to Mr. Lee. Your fourth wife seems to think so at the moment,” Y/n smiled as she sipped her drink

     “Excuse me?” Mr. Lee looked shocked

     “Obviously not trained enough,” Another remarked

     “You let her speak this way, Mr. Bang?”

     “I prefer she does,” Chan smiled

     Chan didn’t worry about his girlfriend mouthing off. He’d thought it was attractive to watch her do it to others. It’s how things seemed to get done.

     “And you’re the current head of the underworld bosses? Can’t believe you have such a mou—”

     “You can finish that sentence if you prefer glass in your throat,” Y/n interrupted

     The look in her eyes alone kept the men silent for a moment.

     “I believe the council will need to discuss our leadership now,” Mr. Lee said

     “You’re just looking for an excuse to take out Chan, Mr. Lee.”

     “I most certainly am not!”

     “It’s really amazing what a few high ranking members of your family will say with a good drink and a pretty face in front of them.”

     “I beg you’re pardon?”

     “Then get on your knees and beg.”

     Y/n watched as he reached behind and pulled out a gun. Point it at her, which just made security— all who worked for her boyfriend— pull theirs out and surround the group.

     “Thank you, for showing you’re true colors, Mr. Lee. If any of you would like to join Mr. Lee, please feel free too. But let this be a warning not to question my leadership.” Chan smiled

     One of the security guards grabbed the gun from the man while he was escorted to a different room.

     “You let yourself get—” one of the sons started speaking put was cut off by Y/n’s champagne flute colliding with his head

     “Deal with them,” Chan sighed and escorted his girlfriend out of the room. Bringing her back home and carrying her up to their room.

     “Chan!” Y/n squealed

     “What?” He laughed as he walked up the stairs

     “I can walk.”

     “Mm, but I know you’re feet hurt from those heels baby.”

     Chan opened their bedroom door before setting her on the bed and kneeling infront of her. He quickly slipped her heels off and set them in their closet. Y/n smiled as he turned back to her. “I’m so glad I get to call you mine,” Chan said as he crawled over her and pressed his lips to hers.

     Y/n moaned into his mouth and pushed his blazer off his shoulder. Their hands roamed the other’s body, pulling off the fabric of the clothing. Tossing them somewhere in the room for someone to deal with later. Y/n managed to get her boyfriend on his back as she grinded herself against him. 

     “Let me prep you baby girl,” Chan said as she kissed down his neck

     “Let me ride that pretty face tonight?” Y/n asked

     “Whenever. Get up here.”

     Y/n moved up his frame. Wet pussy hovering over his face before he pulled her down to his mouth. Tongue sliding into her and coating her walls with his saliva. Y/n grabbed onto their headboard. Rolling her hips against his face, nose hitting her clit while his hands gripped her ass. 

     Y/n moaned into the large room. The tip of his nose hitting her clit with each roll of her hips. “Channie.” 

     Chan moaned into her as his hands had migrated to her hips and helped her rock against him. Her moans were muffled from him by her thighs. Her legs got tighter around his head with each swip of his tongue and nose.

     “Need you inside, Channie,” Y/n moaned

     Y/n peered down at him. Eyes closed as he ate her out. Enjoying the taste of her to the fullest. Chan kept her flush against him as she whined. The knot in her stomach tightening with each motion. Y/n moved her hands to grip his wrists. Holding on to him as he orgasm washed over her. A loud moan ripping from her throat. 

     Chan helped her through the high he set off before letting her off his face. Y/n sat up a bit and caught her breath as he moved her back over his hard cock. Y/n lifted his leaky dick from his stomach, positioning his tip at her entrance, and slowly sinking down. Chan held her hips as she sat down on him. Watching her head roll back as she took his size. 

     “Such a good girl for me,” Chan praised her 

      “Only you,” Y/n hummed as she placed her hands on his chest. 

     Slowly she started bouncing along his shaft. Chan took in the sight of her. Just like he always did in bed. His hands caressed her sides as she squeezed him just right.

       His hands grabbed her hips again as she picked up her pace. Helping her bounce on him as her nails left crescents into the skin. Dragging her nails down his chest. Chan moaned under her as she smiled down at him. Dick twitching inside as she clenched around him for fun. Rolling against him as Chan tilted his head back into the pillow.

     “Fuck baby. ‘M close,” Chan moaned

     “Fill me up Channie. Pretty please.” Y/n begged 

     “Whatever you want.” Chan sat up and pressed his lips to hers.

     Y/n wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Her tongue slipping into his mouth and playing with his tongue as his hands gripped her hips tighter. Burying himself inside her as his orgasm washed over him. Whimpering into her mouth as she tried rolling her hips against him.

     He flipped her onto her back, leaning down to her neck, “You’re turn baby.”

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[ssamchu]

Hi, so could you please write a oneshot with Eunchae having a crush on 6th member fem!reader and being kind of confused about it because she didn't think she likes girls and she goes to one of the others members for help and she tells her to confess?

Deep feelings (Sorry for the long, long waiting)

It was the third time in the day that Eunchae tried to calm her heart. Upon waking, her friend, who was a month older than her, woke her up by jumping on top of her and hugging her, or in the practice room when they took a break and sat on the couch while Yn rested her head on her lap and like now, as Eunchae was getting ready to do her work on Music Bank, her friend gave her a kiss on the cheek and hugged her. "See you later, Eunchae," she whispered in her ear, and the blonde girl prayed that she wouldn't notice the blush on her cheeks.

On the way to Music Bank, Eunchae pondered many things, especially her relationship with Yn. She couldn't deny it, things were different when it came from her. She always wanted to wrap her in the sheets and watch movies to feel her close. She also liked it when they held hands and didn't want to let go, she even missed her when they didn't see each other for a day.

Feelings are confusing for a teenager, especially when they are new. She felt like she could explode at any moment. She didn't know why she had such a need to be with her friend so much or why she felt this way only with her.

Eunchae was running through the hallways of the building to get to the room she shared with Yunjin and Yn, hopeful to receive Yn's hugs upon entering. However, silence filled the room when she crossed the door. She checked the girl's room, but she wasn't there. Even more confused, she knocked on Yunjin's door.

"Come in!" shouted the redhead from the other side of the door. Upon entering, she was disappointed to see that Yn wasn't there."

What's wrong with that face?" asked Yunjin, concerned but laughing. "Where is Yn?" "Ah, that's what it was about, she's with Sakura unnie, she needed her help with a game," she laughed.

"Oh, okay," before turning to leave, she thought Yunjin might help her with her confusing feelings.

"Unnie, can we talk?" she asked nervously, playing with her fingers.

"Mhm, what's up?" asked Yunjin as she patted her bed for Eunchae to sit down.

"I don't know how to explain it, unnie, I feel weird when it comes from Yn. It's like I have nausea, and when she does the slightest thing, my chest hurts, and my heart races. I don't know if I have a crush, I've never liked girls. But it's strange because even when you guys do the same thing, I don't feel what I feel with her. If I like her, I don't know what I would do. How would people react? What if one day I tell her about this, and she starts to see me weirdly, and our friendship gets ruined?" expressed the teenager, looking at the wall while feeling Yunjin's gaze on her.

"I was waiting for you to talk about this," her friend laughed. "There's nothing wrong with liking girls. I understand that you feel attracted to Yn, she's sweet and pretty. People don't have to matter because those are your feelings. You are the happy one, and it's your life; no one decides for you, only you. Don't worry about that. Besides, you know how Yn is, she couldn't make things uncomfortable, she loves you, and I really know that," she said, and just with that, Eunchae thought she should have told Yunjin earlier. She felt so relieved; she needed those words and didn't know it.

Eunchae looked at her with tearful eyes and hugged her. "Unnie, I should tell her, right?" she asked with a trembling voice. "Only if you want to, baby." Yunjin patted her back, wondering if there was anyone more tender than those two.

The sound of the door opening and a shout echoed through the room. "EUNCHAE IS HERE!?"

Yunjin and Eunchae looked at each other and laughed.

I was thinking about doing a second part but rn I'm in HORRIBLE writer's block 💔💔

[plump-lips-imagine]

Hello (◍•ᴗ•◍) u saw that your request were open. Can you write some romantic headcanons of bowser with his s/o, it can be fluffy or spicy whichever you're comfortable with thank you in advance

Alright, Coming up!

Bowser Romantic Headcanons.

Meeting:

You know how dragons like to make hoards of anything that’s shiny, and glimmering, and just want it all to themselves?

That’s the closest thing that Bowser felt after he met you.

Granted, it was pure accident that you met because he accidentally kidnapped you instead. Well, HIS minions made the mistake of kidnapping you.

You were Peach’s Royal Attendant. You were taking care of some of Peach’s documents while she was in a meeting when it happened.

“You ain’t Peach!!” Bowser Growled at you with his claw dangerously close to your face. You gulped nervously at the predicament you were forced into. “N-No Sir, I’m not. I’m just her attendant. Please don’t hurt me”.

 He huffs in frustration. He’ll be sure to punish the idiotic minions that make this mistake. But what to do with you? “...You’re not totally useless. I can make this work.” “Huh?”

 He was going to use you as a hostage to make Peach agree to marry him. She cares way too much for her people to leave you in danger. It’s the perfect plan!

So that’s how you were trapped in a cage, waiting currently for someone to rescue you as Bowser planned a letter to threaten the Peach with for your Safety.

Welp. With nothing better else to do, you might as well try to make conversation if you’re going to be here for a while.

“So….Got any hobbies?”

Bowser raises an eyebrow at you. “What?”

Safe to say, Bowser was very annoyed at your attempts to make small talk. But he entertained the idea since he was running blank on what to write to the Princess.

Maybe if he decided to talk to you a bit, You’ll eventually stop talking altogether.

And maybe fix this writer’s block.

Neither happens. 

You were a chatterbox, and he seemed to lose interest in the letter altogether.

You were genuinely curious about him since you’d only heard about him From Peach.

He was Scary, but you couldn’t help but look at him in interest.

And he….didn’t mind. Actually, the way you looked at him in curiosity when he talked made him a little Bashful. Not many ask a lot about him

No one appreciates his awesomeness in all its glory, so you asking about him kinda…made him want to talk to you too.

Peach is usually silent when he tries to talk to her, so it's nice to talk to someone for a change.

Both of you didn’t realize how late it was until Kamek came to remind him that Dinner was ready.

It was shocking to him he talked to you so much without getting bored and shocked him even more that he didn’t want the conversation to end.

That lasted for about 3 days before Mario and Luigi came to the rescue.

And Of Course, he got his ass handed to him.

Mario grabs your hand as he walks away from the barely conscious Bowser. “Come on-a (Y/N). The Princess was-a so worried about you.” You followed the bros out the front door of his castle, but you turn quickly to look at Bowser. “Bye, Bowser! See you Later!” Bowser lays there as the three of you left, contemplating was you just said. ‘’Later’?...later…..Later.” 

There was definitely going to be a Later.

Pre-Relationship:

  He starts ‘kidnapping’ more frequently. To the Point where Both his minions and Peach notice it.

“Sire, Why are we taking this Human instead of the Princess? What could the servant provide that we can’t just get from the Princess immediately?” Bowser Glares at the Koopa, and stomps towards them, making the Koopa jump in fear. “Are you questioning me!? I know what I’m doing! We need that servant because she’s more likely to tell us things without a fight! I’m going to use it against this Kingdom when the time is Right!” Translation: I miss this human a lot but couldn’t think of a reasonable way of seeing them again so I kidnap them so they’ll have no choice but to spend time with me, but I won’t admit that to anybody.

Princess Peach runs up to you to inspect your face as Mario and Luigi save you again. “Thank Goodness you're alright! Did that Monster hurt you? I’m so sorry you got dragged into this.” “Princess, I'm Fine, Really. Don’t worry about it. Mario and Luigi saved me so all is good with the world.” Translation: Bowser has no idea how to ask to hang out so I gotta keep up this facade until either I ask him personally to hang out. I had a fun time with him but I don’t want you to freak out at this.

He has obvious favoritism for you. 

It’s laughable to even call you a prisoner because you don’t even sit in the cage when he kidnaps you.

He orders his minions to prepare a room for you.

He even made sure they got delicious food sent to your room when supper was ready.

You don’t attempt to run since you enjoy his company and he enjoys yours.

Kamek and the rest of his minions as You and Bowser talk about certain topics walking down the Royal Hallway. Bowser notices this and glares at them. “Is there something you need to say?” He rhetorically asks in a dark tone.” They stop looking and stand guard quickly. Bowser's face softens, looking down back at you. “As you were saying?”

He is also a little touchy with you. He usually has his hand on your back when you talk. Also has you sat on his forearm when he wants you to be closer.

He’s a little touch-starved. He forgets that he has to act like he’s holding you prisoner.

 Mario and Luigi came to ‘rescue’ you for the 8th time. It was different today. They defeated his defenses but when they came to the throne room, he wasn’t ready for them to come. He was asleep. He was on his some curled up in a sleeping position and there you were, next to his face as he held you down with his arm, pulling you close to him.

The Mario Bros stare at yall in shock. You shush them when you spot them and waved them over quietly. They come and you carefully wiggle out of Bowser’s Grasp. “Let’s go.” You whisper quietly. They nod and head out the front. You take a piece of paper and leave a note. I’ll be coming over next week, You don’t have to pick me up anymore. - (Y/N).

You tuck the note under his hand, and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, leaving before he woke up. He smiles in his sleep.

                   Post-Relationship

      Congratulations! You have the Koopa King’s Heart in your Hands now.

Achievement unlocked: Bowser will now kill for you.

But yeah, if you thought he was sweet before. Get ready for that time 3.

He just wants to make you happy and bathe you in riches.

Are you hungry? He gets the minions to make a 5-star gourmet dish just to your liking.

Thirsty?  He will bring you a gold chalice embedded with shining jewels.

Is it too hot? Minions! Fan my lover and get them the coldest water we got!

Enemy needs to be wiped out? Say the word and he will bring them to your knees begging for mercy.

Calls you Starlight and Firefly because of how you brighten the room.  Along with nicknames like Honey, and Sweetheart.

Also, be prepared for him to be right under you or more like you very close to him

He will pick you up in his hands just because. No reason. He just wants to hold you and keep you close.

He is very gentle when he has you in his hand. It makes you feel safe when he wraps his fingers around you lovingly. Claws never tearing your clothes or breaking the skin. You are treated as fragile as precious glass art.

He still has this urge to just pinch your cheeks and squeeze you a bit. You’re just too cute for your own. (Even when you’re doing absolutely nothing.)

Have you sitting on his lap when he’s sitting on his throne until yours is done being built.

Please kiss is on his snoot. He will melt at the affection with hearts in his eyes.

Please kiss him more. He craves it. He will wag his tail when you do.

You know how possessive and protective Dragons get with their treasure. Be prepared for that.

He will be so stubborn when you have to go to the Peach’s castle and try to get you to stay longer.

Do you have to go so soon? It’s early. Why don’t you stay another hour…or 2. Or you can’t wait till tomorrow? Or next week? Next Month? Next Year?    

He has to fight this instinct to just grab you and keep him under him so that he can keep you all to himself.

…He only controls it 3 times out of 10.     

Literally has you cuddled up under him in your shared bedroom because he doesn’t even want to share you with the Princess.  You were a little annoyed.

He gives you his best puppy dog eyes to make you less angry. You can’t stay mad at that face.

Fine, But You’re going in the next hour.

He lets out a content purr as you settled into him.

He literally loves you so much. He hopes you stay forever.

He is so ready to ask for your hand in marriage.

He hopes you say yes.