#{ some strange songs xD } | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

helen-with-an-a · 2 months ago

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Heyy, i hope you're doing well! I wanted to ask if you would be down to write a fic based on the song "drown" by bring me the horizon. I absolutely love this song and it has a place in my heart because this band and also this song carried me through some dark times ( I cried so hard when i heard that song live for the first time 2 months ago xD) . Maybe it could be a barca x reader fic that also deals with $elf h@rm if that is a topic you're comfortable writing about, because reading books and fan fics about this topic has been helping me immensely with my own recovery. So if this is an idea that interests you I would love to read that fic, but if it's a topic you're just not comfortable with feel free to just ignore this ask. (But seriously listen to drown it's such a beautiful song)

Hiiiiii - I hope I did this request and song justice. Please know if you are struggling, you are loved. You are so, so loved and people want to help you. I know asking for help is really hard, but I promise it is worth it. You are worth it.

Drowning

Barça femeni x reader

Description: R feels like she is drowning and the team comes to help her

Word Count: 5.4k

TW: Undescribed Self Harm; Brief mentions of cutting; Bad mental health

Kelly Clarkson once sang that whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, that it turns you into a fighter, and helps you stand a little taller. Those words are meant to inspire resilience, to remind you that adversity is supposed to build character and fortify your spirit. But as much as you wanted to believe that, as much as you tried to let those lyrics resonate in your heart, the truth is, you weren’t sure if they were true. You wished with every fibre of your being that they were, but deep down, you felt the weight of life’s challenges pressing down on you. Instead of feeling stronger, you often felt worn down, as if the struggles you faced had chipped away at your resolve rather than bolstered it.

You wanted to feel like a fighter, to stand taller in the face of hardship, but more often than not, you found yourself struggling just to stay on your feet. It was as if each obstacle left a scar that made it harder to move forward, rather than easier. The hope that you’d emerge stronger sometimes felt like a distant dream, and you wondered if that strength Kelly sang about was something you’d ever truly feel.

Half the time, it felt like you were floating – weightless, as if you were drifting through life without a solid anchor. There was a strange sensation of being unmoored, detached from the world around you, almost as if you were existing in a bubble that separated you from everything real and tangible. In those moments, you felt neither grounded nor fully present, as if the weight of your worries and responsibilities had somehow lifted, but so had your sense of purpose and direction. You were there, but not really there – drifting in a kind of limbo where everything seemed just out of reach.

The other half of the time, it felt like you were drowning – barely able to keep your head above the water as the weight of everything threatened to pull you under. The world seemed to close in around you, the pressures and responsibilities of life crashing over you like relentless waves. Each day felt like a struggle just to stay afloat, as if you were constantly treading water in an ocean of overwhelming emotions, fears, and uncertainties.

Your mind was a whirlpool, dragging you down into dark, turbulent depths where it was hard to breathe, hard to think, and hard to see any way out. Every little thing seemed like an anchor, dragging you further beneath the surface, making it harder and harder to find the strength to push back up. The sensation of drowning was terrifying – your heart raced, your breath quickened, and panic took hold as you fought desperately to survive the relentless tide.

In these moments, it felt like you were being suffocated by the weight of your own thoughts and emotions, as if they were water filling your lungs, making it impossible to take a full breath. You tried to fight against it, to keep yourself above the water, but the effort was exhausting, leaving you drained and gasping for air. The more you struggled, the deeper you seemed to sink, and the idea of finding solid ground again felt increasingly out of reach.

There was one thing that brought you a small measure of comfort, a fleeting moment of relief that made you feel a little better. It was like a lifeline thrown to you in the middle of the chaos. Just for that brief instant, your feet were on solid ground again, and you felt a sense of stability that had been missing for so long. In that split second, you weren’t drowning in the suffocating depths of your anxieties, nor were you floating aimlessly through the fog of disconnection.

Instead, you felt anchored, grounded in a reality that was steady and secure. It was as if the storm inside you had paused, and the world had stopped spinning just long enough for you to catch your breath. In that moment, you were fully present, aware of yourself and your surroundings in a way that made everything else fade into the background. The weight that usually pressed so heavily on your chest lifted, and for that brief period, you were able to stand tall and feel the earth beneath you, firm and unwavering.

It didn’t last long – those moments of clarity and peace never did. They slipped away as quickly as they came, like sand through your fingers, leaving you once again adrift in the chaos of your thoughts. The sense of calm and stability that you craved was always fleeting, a temporary reprieve that left you yearning for more. But in the aftermath, when the world once again became overwhelming and your mind descended back into the chaos there was one thing that lingered: the small, neat red lines.

These lines were the only reminder of that brief lucidity, etched into your skin like a secret code that only you could understand. They were delicate but precise, almost methodical in their appearance, as if each one was a calculated attempt to bring some order to the chaos within.

The red lines were your way of marking time, of grounding yourself in a reality that often felt too slippery to hold onto. In those moments when clarity slipped away, when you were once again floating or drowning, they were there to remind you that, for just a moment, you had found your footing. The pain they brought was real, sharp, and immediate – something that could cut through the numbness and confusion, anchoring you back to the present.

It hadn’t always been like this. There was a time when life was simpler, when the world seemed brighter and full of possibilities. Your dad used to tell you stories of when you were just a baby, how you were the very picture of happiness – all gummy smiles and infectious giggles that could light up a room. He would describe how your laughter was so pure, so full of joy, that it could make even the grumpiest person smile. In his eyes, you were a little bundle of sunshine, radiating warmth and love wherever you went.

You often wondered what happened to that little girl, the one who seemed to find joy so easily in everything around her. Where did she go? What changed between those carefree days and now, when the world feels so heavy and your heart so burdened? You tried to remember the last time you felt that kind of unrestrained happiness, but the memories were hazy, like trying to recall a dream that had long since faded.

You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when things started to shift, when the lightness began to slip away, replaced by something much darker. Maybe it was a gradual process, so slow and subtle that you didn’t notice it happening until one day you woke up and realised that the little girl who used to laugh so easily was gone. Or maybe it was something more abrupt, a single event that changed everything, though you couldn’t quite remember what it might have been.

There were times when you’d catch a glimpse of her, that little girl, in the mirror – perhaps in a fleeting smile or a brief moment of joy – but she was always just out of reach, like a shadow that vanished as soon as you tried to hold onto it. The happiness that once came so naturally now felt like a distant memory, something that belonged to a different time, a different version of yourself.

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss, a mourning for the person you used to be, for the life you used to live. What had happened to that carefree spirit, the one who saw the world as a place of wonder and possibility? Where did all those smiles and giggles go, replaced by the weight of anxiety and the burden of unspoken sadness?

You wished you could find your way back to her, to that little girl who knew how to be happy without even trying. But the path seemed unclear, the way forward uncertain, and all you were left with were the memories of who you used to be and the quiet hope that maybe, someday, you might rediscover that lost joy.

Ingrid had sensed that something was off the very first time she met you. It was as if she could see right through the façade you were trying so hard to maintain. You were just 17 at the time, still so young, yet there was something about the way you carried yourself that spoke of a weariness far beyond your years. Most teenagers were full of restless energy, eager to explore the world and discover who they were, but you – there was a heaviness in your eyes, a kind of fatigue that no child should ever have to bear.

When you stood before her, Ingrid could see that the weight of the world was already pressing down on your shoulders. It was in the way you held yourself, as if every movement took a conscious effort, every step a deliberate act to keep from being overwhelmed by the burden you carried. You tried to smile, to present yourself as just another teenager navigating the usual challenges of adolescence, but even your smile seemed strained, like it was something you had to force rather than something that came naturally.

Ingrid noticed how you seemed to shrink into yourself, as if trying to make yourself smaller, less noticeable, perhaps in the hope that the world might go easier on you if you took up less space. But it was impossible to ignore the sadness that lingered behind your eyes, a sadness that seemed to have settled there long before its time. It was as if you had lived through experiences that had aged you in ways that others your age couldn’t begin to understand.

There was an unspoken tension in the way you interacted with others, a hesitation that suggested you had learned to guard yourself carefully. Ingrid could tell that you were wary of letting anyone get too close, as if you were afraid that if someone saw too much, they might unravel the carefully constructed image you were trying so desperately to hold together. It was a kind of self-protection, a shield you had built to keep the world at arm’s length, but Ingrid could see through it.

She saw the exhaustion etched into your posture, the way your shoulders slumped ever so slightly, as if the weight you carried was too much to bear alone. And though you were still just a teenager, still supposed to be discovering the joys and freedoms of youth, there was an undeniable gravity about you, a maturity born out of hardship that no one your age should have had to endure.

She had gone straight to Mapí, her heart heavy with worry and a sense of urgency she couldn’t ignore. Mapí had always been her anchor, the one person she could turn to when everything else seemed to be spiralling out of control. There was a comfort in Mapí’s presence, a kind of steady reassurance that made the world feel a little less chaotic. And in that moment, when she felt like she was drowning in her own thoughts, there was no one else she could think of who could help her make sense of it all.

As she approached Mapí, she could see the girl was already watching her, those perceptive eyes filled with a quiet understanding. Mapí had always been like that – intuitive, almost as if she could sense when something was wrong without a single word being spoken. It was as if she could read the unspoken emotions, the things that others overlooked or dismissed, and she knew just how to respond without being told.

“I’m worried about her,” Ingrid said quietly to Mapí, her voice tinged with concern as she gestured with her head in your direction. There was a seriousness in her tone that caught Mapí’s attention immediately. Ingrid wasn’t one to express worry lightly; if she was concerned, it meant something was truly wrong.

“Who?” Mapí asked, her brow furrowing slightly as she tried to follow Ingrid’s line of sight. She turned to see who Ingrid was referring to, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on you.

“Den lille,” Ingrid replied softly. It was a name that fit you perfectly, even though you were no longer a small child. To Ingrid, you would always be den lille, the one who needed looking after, the one she couldn’t help but worry about.

Mapí’s gaze lingered on you, taking in the way you sat off to the side, your shoulders hunched slightly as if you were trying to make yourself invisible. She saw the way your fingers absentmindedly traced the edges of your shorts, a nervous habit she had noticed before but never truly understood until now. There was something about your posture, the way you seemed so withdrawn, that tugged at her heart. You looked like you were carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, and it didn’t sit right with Mapí.

“She’s been different lately,” Ingrid continued, her voice barely above a whisper, as if saying the words out loud would somehow make them more real. “I’m scared, María.”

Mapí’s heart ached at Ingrid’s words. The concern in Ingrid’s voice was palpable, a stark contrast to the usual composed and confident demeanour she typically displayed. The way Ingrid had hesitated before speaking, the trembling edge to her voice, suggested that this was more than just a fleeting worry – it was a deep, gnawing fear that had taken root in her heart.

Mapí turned her full attention to you, her eyes softening. There was an undeniable shift in your demeanour that had been building over time, and it was clear now that Ingrid’s fears were not unfounded. The way you sat, so isolated and withdrawn, seemed like a cry for help that was too quiet to be heard. Mapí could feel the gravity of the situation pressing down on her, the realisation that something needed to be done before it was too late.

“Ale will know what to do,” Mapí said with false bravado, trying to mask the tremor in her voice behind a veneer of confidence. Her words were meant to reassure Ingrid, to offer a glimmer of hope amidst the growing uncertainty, but inside, she felt a pang of doubt.

Mapí had always relied on Alexia’s wisdom and experience, believing her to be someone who could handle even the most complex of situations with ease. She had a way of approaching problems with calm assurance and a strategic mindset that often brought clarity and solutions where there seemed to be none. Mapí hoped that, with Alexia’s involvement, they could find a way to help you navigate the turmoil you were experiencing.

She knew, however, that this situation was different. The weight of it felt heavier, more personal. Her usually steadfast confidence was being tested, and despite her efforts to maintain a brave front, she couldn’t completely suppress the anxiety that gnawed at her.

Ingrid glanced at Mapí, a mixture of hope and scepticism in her eyes. “You really think so?” she asked, her voice laced with both trust and apprehension.

“Absolutely,” Mapí replied, her tone firm despite the fluttering unease in her chest.

Alexia had noticed the changes in you too, though her observations were more subtle, filtered through a lens of quiet concern rather than overt worry. She had seen you through different stages of life, from the carefree moments of adolescence to the more introspective phases, but lately, something had shifted, and she couldn’t ignore the signs any longer.

It was in the way you interacted with others, or rather, how you had started to withdraw from those interactions. Alexia, who had always admired your vibrant energy and effortless charm, now saw you retreating into yourself. The once bright and engaging conversations seemed to dwindle, replaced by a more subdued presence that she struggled to reconcile with the person she once knew.

She noticed how you would often linger on the periphery of group activities, participating only half-heartedly, if at all. Your laughter, which used to come so easily, had become rare and forced, a stark contrast to the genuine joy that used to light up your face. Even your physical appearance had changed; where there was once a confident posture, there was now a noticeable slouch, a sign of the weight you seemed to be carrying.

Alexia also observed the small, telling habits that had shifted. The way you fidgeted with your clothes or avoided eye contact during conversations spoke volumes about your internal struggle. It was as if you were trying to make yourself as inconspicuous as possible, a stark departure from the once lively and assertive person she had known.

“Ale, we need to talk,” Mapí said firmly, cornering Alexia in the changing rooms after training one afternoon. Her voice was low and serious, carrying an undertone of urgency that instantly drew Alexia’s full attention. The usual post-training chatter and the clamor of lockers being shut were fading into the background as the gravity of Mapí’s tone cut through the noise.

“Is everything okay?” Alexia asked, her voice betraying a hint of concern as she met Mapí’s gaze. The look in Mapí’s eyes was one Alexia hadn’t seen very often – an earnestness and resolve that spoke of something deeper than just a casual chat. The air between them seemed to thicken with unspoken tension, the room suddenly feeling smaller, more confined as the weight of the conversation settled in.

“No, it’s not,” Ingrid replied, her tone steady but laden with emotion.

Three sets of eyes turned to look at you, the subject of their concern. You sat on a bench, somewhat apart from the group, absorbed in your own thoughts, unaware of the intensity of the discussion unfolding just a few feet away. The distance between you and the others was more than physical; it was as though a chasm had opened up, underscoring the emotional divide that had grown.

You looked so tired. It was a weariness that went beyond physical exhaustion, a heaviness that seemed to seep into your very bones. The vibrant energy that once defined you had dimmed, leaving behind a shadow of your former self.

Your eyes, which used to sparkle with curiosity and joy, were now clouded with a fatigue that spoke volumes about the battles you were fighting internally. They were deep and dark, the kind of tiredness that comes from sleepless nights and unspoken worries. The once bright and animated expression you wore had given way to a distant gaze that struggled to focus on the world around you. When you did look up, it was with a slow, measured effort, as if the simple act of meeting someone’s eyes required more energy than you had to spare. Your gaze seemed to drift in and out of focus, mirroring the exhaustion that you felt but could not escape.

Your training top seemed far too big on you now, the fabric hanging off you like a draped shroud. It was as if the clothes themselves reflected the way you had withdrawn from the world; they looked oversized and loose, emphasising the contrast between your current state and the vibrant person you used to be.

Every small movement you made seemed laboured, as though even the simplest actions required a tremendous amount of effort. Your shoulders slouched slightly, as if weighed down by an invisible burden that made every step feel heavier. The casual confidence that once characterised your movements had been replaced by a tentative, almost cautious mannerism, as though you were trying to conserve every ounce of energy you had.

Your breathing was steady but shallow, and every now and then, you let out a sigh that seemed to escape from somewhere deep inside you – a sigh that spoke of exhaustion and resignation. The small, subtle gestures you made, like tucking your hands into your sleeves or curling your legs up on the bench, were instinctive attempts to find some semblance of comfort or protection in a moment where you felt particularly vulnerable.

“Oh, cariño,” Alexia whispered, her heart breaking at the sight of you. The term of endearment slipped from her lips like a soft breath of sorrow, laden with a depth of feeling that words alone could not fully convey. It was a tender utterance meant to bridge the emotional chasm that seemed to separate you from everyone around you.

As Alexia watched you, her eyes were filled with a deep sadness that mirrored the gravity of the moment. The sight of you, sitting apart from the group, lost in your own thoughts, was more than Alexia could bear. Her heart ached as she took in the full extent of your weariness. It was clear that this was not just a fleeting moment of fatigue but a profound, ongoing struggle that had seeped into your very being. The vibrant spirit she once knew seemed overshadowed by a deep, unspoken sorrow that had taken hold.

You weren’t sure why you phoned Ona, out of all people. It wasn’t like you were particularly close with her; in fact, your interactions with her had always been somewhat limited and casual. You knew her mostly through mutual friends and shared activities, exchanging pleasantries and brief conversations but never delving deeply into each other's lives. Yes, you considered her a friend, but your one-on-one time had been minimal, mostly restricted to group settings or casual encounters. She wasn’t someone you confided in regularly, nor did you have a history of sharing personal struggles or intimate details.

Yet, in the midst of your crisis, when everything felt out of control and the world seemed to have narrowed to the confines of your bathroom floor, Ona’s name was the first to come to mind. You sat there, the cold tiles pressing against your legs, a razor gripped tightly in one hand, its cold edge a stark reminder of the darkness you were grappling with. Your thoughts were a swirling mix of desperation and confusion, and in that chaotic mental fog, Ona’s name emerged almost instinctively.

It was an odd choice, and you struggled to understand it yourself. Perhaps it was the nature of your relationship with her – though not deeply personal, it was still a connection that felt solid enough to offer some semblance of support. Sometimes, the familiarity of a person, even if not deeply entrenched, can provide a sense of comfort in moments of profound vulnerability. Ona had always been approachable and kind, traits that, despite the limited interaction, might have seemed reassuring in your current state.

There was also something to be said for the randomness of human emotion and instinct. In moments of deep distress, the mind often grasps at whatever feels familiar, even if it’s not the most logical choice. Ona, being someone who had always been friendly and supportive, perhaps embodied a sense of stability and kindness that was desperately needed in that moment.

“Hola?” Her voice came through the phone, laden with sleep, thick with the grogginess of having been abruptly roused from slumber. There was a softness to her tone, a slow, drowsy lilt that spoke of the deep relaxation she had been in just moments before. The initial, half-hearted curiosity in her voice quickly sharpened into something more alert as she processed the unusual hour and the unexpected call.

“I …” You began, but the words caught in your throat, tangled with the overwhelming emotions that had gripped you. Your voice trembled, barely more than a whisper, laden with a mixture of vulnerability and desperation. It was as if the sheer effort of making the call had drained you, leaving only a fragile thread of sound that barely carried your intent.

“Pequeña?” Ona’s voice was suddenly more awake, filled with concern. The fragility in your voice, so unlike the casual exchanges you had shared before, pierced through her initial drowsiness. The realisation that something was seriously wrong caused her to sit upright in bed, the sense of alarm and urgency pushing away the remnants of sleep.

“Help me,” you managed to utter, the words escaping in a pained whisper

You woke up in hospital. The room cold and sterile. The first thing you noticed was the biting chill that seemed to seep into your very bones, despite the layers of blankets draped over you. The air felt thin and clinical – you had never known such an impersonal space existed. The walls were a clinical shade of white, interrupted only by the occasional piece of medical equipment or the sparse, functional décor meant to provide minimal distraction. The lighting was bright and unyielding, casting a harsh glare that made the room feel even colder and more impersonal. The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed softly, their steady hum creating a rhythm that seemed oddly out of place.

Your bed, positioned at the centre of the room, was surrounded by a fortress of medical paraphernalia. An IV drip hung beside you, its clear fluids slowly trickling down a tube that was taped to your arm. The beeping of a heart monitor provided a steady, monotonous cadence, a reminder of the life support systems that were now a part of your immediate environment. The rhythmic sound was oddly comforting and unnerving all at once, a constant reminder of your current state and the care being provided.

The air was filled with a faint, antiseptic scent – a mix of cleaning agents and medicinal odours that seemed to hang in the atmosphere like an unwelcome guest. It was a smell that clung to everything, from the freshly laundered hospital sheets to the disposable gowns and sterile gloves that the medical staff wore.

There was a warm weight in your right hand. It took you a moment to realise what it was. A hand. A hand connected to an arm, that led to a shoulder, that was attached to a whole person. The fingers resting gently in your grasp were familiar and comforting, their gentle pressure offering a steady reassurance. You turned your head slightly, and through the haze of your groggy state, you saw the face of the person whose hand you were holding.

“Hi,” Ona smiled softly, her expression a blend of warmth and reassurance.

“Hi,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. It was a weak echo of her greeting, laden with the exhaustion and vulnerability you felt. Your gaze drifted to the hand still resting in yours. She followed your stare, squeezing gently when she realised what you were looking at.

“The others have got to get food,” Ona continued, her voice gentle but firm. “It’s just us, if you want to talk.”

“What’s there to talk about?” you countered, the words a defense mechanism. If you denied it, it would all go away.

“Do not play dumb, pequeña.” Ona’s voice carried a note of gentle reproach. Her tone was soft but resolute.

“I …” you began, but the words seemed to falter before they could take shape. The enormity of your emotions was difficult to articulate, and the effort to speak felt almost insurmountable. You struggled to find the right words, your thoughts jumbled and disjointed.

But how could she truly understand? What little you knew about her life seemed almost painfully perfect by comparison. From the outside, Ona’s existence appeared to be a seamless tapestry of success and happiness. Her football career was thriving, each game a testament to her skill and dedication. She was admired and celebrated by teammates and fans alike, her talent on the field a source of pride and achievement.

Her relationship was also the stuff of dreams. Ona had Lucy, someone who seemed to bring out the best in her, their interactions marked by genuine affection and mutual support. They were often seen together, sharing moments of joy and laughter that spoke of a deep and abiding connection. Their bond was one of those rare partnerships that seemed to transcend the everyday challenges, offering a glimpse into a love that was both passionate and enduring.

Her circle of friends appeared to be equally ideal. They were supportive and loyal, always there for one another through thick and thin. The camaraderie and warmth of their friendship were evident in the way they interacted, their shared moments of happiness and mutual encouragement. It was a friendship that seemed to offer a solid foundation, a network of support that was both comforting and reliable.

And then there was her family – an image of stability and happiness. They were often seen together, their interactions filled with laughter and love. The family dynamic seemed to be one of mutual respect and genuine affection, a supportive backdrop to Ona’s life that added to the picture of her seemingly perfect existence.

In contrast, your own life felt chaotic and fraught with difficulties. The weight of your struggles seemed all the more daunting when juxtaposed against Ona’s polished image. It was easy to feel that her understanding of your pain was limited, that the perfection you saw in her life might somehow preclude her from fully grasping the depth of your own challenges. You wondered if her empathy was genuine or if it was simply a reflection of her innate kindness, an attempt to reach across the chasm of your differences and offer comfort despite the apparent disparity between your lives.

“If you don’t want to talk yet, that’s fine. But let me show you something.” She pushed up her sleeve.

C O N T ; N U E

“You’re not alone in this, pequeña. No one is ever alone.” Ona’s voice was steady, a soft but firm anchor amidst the storm. She shifted slightly, her fingers gently tracing over a tattoo on her arm. “I got this just after I moved to England,” she began, her tone becoming more reflective. “I felt so alone. I didn’t speak the language very well, I had no friends, and we were in lockdown. Everything was different.” Her gaze softened as she looked at the tattoo, her fingers moving lightly over its surface, as if the act itself was a form of remembering and honouring a past struggle.

The room seemed to grow quieter, the beeping of the monitors and the distant murmur of the hospital blending into a background hum as Ona continued. “I almost did it, y’know. I was really, really close – had the bottle and everything.” Her voice wavered slightly, a rare crack in the veneer of her composed exterior. “I haven’t even told Lucy this.” She laughed humourlessly.

“Why didn’t you?” you asked, the question hanging in the air.

Ona took a deep breath, her eyes meeting yours as she smiled gently. “Alessia knocked on my door. She noticed I looked a little down and came to check on me. I don’t know if she saw the pills or not, but she stayed with me all day.” The warmth in her eyes deepened as she spoke. “She asked me to teach her some Spanish, she taught me how to make pasta from scratch. She didn’t let me leave her side for three days. Even then, as soon as she left Tooney appeared.”

“Wh-why are you telling me this?” Your voice quivered, the words struggling to get out over the lump in your throat.

Ona’s eyes softened with a blend of compassion and determination. “So that you know you’re not alone,” she began, her voice steady and full of quiet resolve. “I don’t know the ins and outs of what you’re going through, but just know that I’m here, we all are. We aren’t going anywhere.” She promised.

She paused, allowing her words to settle, as if to let the depth of her meaning fully resonate. You blinked, trying to hold back the flood of emotions that were threatening to overwhelm you. Tears began to well up in your eyes. The tears were a mixture of relief and sadness.

“You are loved, pequeña. So, so loved. And we will be here for you, no matter what, no matter how long it takes.”

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i-have-no-idea-for-name · 6 months ago

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Ok, so here's Amy (Amethyst)! Peri's and Irep's dauther!💖

and here's her story (I've already told it in other comments and reblogs, but I want to put it here as a whole so as not to make a mess :3)

So it started with Peri and Irep co-parenting Dev, who in the meantime learned a little about them, how fairies and anti-fairies are born and how they came into being. And since he felt lonely despite having fairies (who were constantly arguing), he decided at some point that he wanted to have fairy sibling, so during one of Peri and Irep's many arguments, he wished for sibling and they unknowingly fulfilled it XD and that's how Peri got pregnant XDDDD

When this came to light, both fairy worlds were terrified and angry at this fact. After the birth, when it turned out that they had only one child who didn't have her opposite, various strange anomalies and inequalities in the universe began to occur (and I don't know how, but somehow they managed to deal with it XD) (sorry, but there's a void here :'D)

Later, Dev started learning responsibility and how to be a good brother (and person) which made everyone very proud 💖

as for her character, I like the idea that while growing up she started suffering from a split personality which separated her good fairy nature from her evil anti-fairy nature (something similar to Jekyll & Hyde) (I think the song "confrontation" suits her) (unfortunately her anti-fairy grandparents wanted to take advantage of it)

ok, I'm tired and I don't feel like writing anymore XD

(AND PLEASE DON'T HC THAT IREP GAVE BIRTH TO HER I DON'T WANT THAT)

#the fairy oddparents a new wish #the fairly oddparents #fairy odd parents #fairly oddparents #fop #fop peri #fop irep #peri x irep #dev fop #fop dev #perirep #fop fanchild #dev dimmadome

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punkpandapatrixk · 5 months ago

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👑Your Destined Person’s Anima vs Persona ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

According to Carl Jung, the anima is a man’s feminine (Yin) aspect, and thus unconscious in him. Correspondingly, the animus is a woman’s masculine (Yang) aspect, and thus unconscious in her. The anima is the Masculine’s hidden psychology, essentially.

In the grand scheme of the Cosmos, the Yin is the dark, the magnetic, the VOID—the empty space where all creations are first dreamt. In this dark space, it is up to the Masculine individual whether or not he wants to succumb to the allure of Lilith the Destroyer. In Jungian psychology, apparently, they have this thing called The Devouring Mother LMAO

All things considered, in the name of character development, it is up to the man—if he ever so chooses, which, one must first always make a choice for things to go a certain way—to make the unconscious conscious.

When the Yin and the Yang in a person are united and fully realised, that person becomes what we call Divine~ Man or woman, this person then becomes a more complete Human being. He or she then becomes the master of his/her own Destiny~⛵️

GNOSIS: A Man's Anima Reveals Itself In Sexual Fantasies as explained by Marie-Louise von Franz (entertain the comments section, peeps~)

SONG: Say You Love Me by EXO KAI

MOTHA: Kim Kardashian plays a SAVAGE version of herself in AHS Delicate 😩 by Offensive Tea

deck-bottom: XVIII The Moon Rx, Red Geographer (Marco Polo) & Priestess of Illumination

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings] [buymeaboba]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Evil Fuck vs King

‘Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.’ – Carl Jung

VIBE: Reason by EXO KAI

anima – XV The Devil

Look, babe, we keep it real in this household, OK? XD We don’t know if your Destined Person has Mars/Pluto in the 8th or 12th House—or possibly—Neptune itself in the 5th or 8th House, but essentially, your DP is a person who’s deeply fascinated by SEX and all the taboos surrounding it. They could struggle with having a lot of improper thoughts, quite often, at inappropriate times and places, deep inside.

Your Destined Person most likely watches a lot of porn or indulges themselves in those types of activities/media, and on top of that, prooobably has some mummy issues. At the very least, they could have a strange/unhealthy relationship with their mother figure or have a difficult time accepting/integrating the Yin aenergy inside of them.

Overall, this strange combo of Scorpion/Neptunian qualities in them lends to your Destined Person’s macabre fascination with all things ‘dark and sexual’. Be that as it may, this doesn’t automatically mean that your Destined Person is simply a depraved piece of fuck. Don’t be surprised to know that things changed drastically for them by the time they graduated their 1st (or 2nd if they’re slow LOL) Saturn Return~

persona – 9 of Cups

There is something about the way sexuality is expressed in this Human world that feels strangely fascinatingly depraved, which is genuinely incredibly foreign to your Destined Person’s Soul XD If they’ve felt inexplicably drawn to it, it’s because they want to UNDERSTAND fully what makes ‘sex’ in the Human world so…icky and disrespectful. 9 of Cups here is literally indicating that your Destined Person’s Soul is incredibly pure and altruistic.

And that is exactly why they are endlessly perplexed by the darkness—the sickness is more like it—surrounding SEX in this wicked world which they realised is almost completely deprived of Love. The sheer lack of a soulful cosmic connection in most sexual activities in this world puzzles the living shit out of your Destined Person!

It may take some maturing from your Destined Person until they finally understand that this dark fascination is actually quite common for people with their kind of natal configuration or let’s say, psychology. Their Saturn Return phases will play (or have played) a critical role in their awakening to a Higher Truth that eventually liberates them from the chains of a strange addiction to… yeah…

Divine Human – Queen of Pentacles Rx

At some point in Life—most likely after their, at least, first Saturn Return—your Destined Person understood why some things simply don’t add up for them when it comes to how Humans connect with each other to enjoy these…worldly pleasures; which then led to a great spiritual liberation from all the deceits they’d been told about sex and sexuality in this…mortal world.

Your Destined Person is somebody who’s quite inexplicably cosmic, you know. Either they feel to you like an alien or a fairy. They simply can’t fit into the expectations of ‘normalcy’ in most of Human societies. The depraved things people so take for granted, none of that feels ‘normal’ to your Destined Person. This is someone who’s actually incredibly decent and polite.

Your Destined Person is not the type that wants to hurt you in intimate situations. They probably don’t even prioritise the sensual sensations more than how they connect with you on an emotional level. This is a person who wants to ‘fill you up’ spiritually through a divine sexual activity, which, now that you know, explains why they’ve had to learn to unlearn the lies of sex and sexuality in their younger years ^^v

WHAT IS LOVE🔻💜

honey? – Priestess of Solitude

poison? – Priestess of Faith

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Many Dreams vs Unworthiness

‘One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious.’ – Carl Jung

VIBE: Amnesia by EXO KAI

anima – Knight of Pentacles

There is a chance that your Destined Person has some significant Virgo-Pisces bullshit going on in their birth chart. This is the axis of sacrifice and self-undoing of the zodiac wheel and this in itself could cause a person to ‘self-sabotage’ out of a fear of becoming happier than everybody else. It sounds crazy, right? But people with a harshly afflicted Virgo-Pisces connection tend to be somewhat of a martyr.

In practice, where your Destined Person is concerned, this affliction plays itself out in the form of endless rumination, as well as a sense of not being worthy of what they’re actively daydreaming about. This is almost giving me that main character from the movie Parasite. This guy dreams and plans a lot, but fucks everything up in the end because he’s simply not…capable enough?

OK, that’s a bad example but this aenergy is almost similar to how the guy is portrayed by the very end of the film XD This afflicted Piscean aenergy especially, is making your Destined Person, most likely subconsciously, afraid of letting themselves happy. So then, as a means to reaffirm this ‘belief’ their brains ‘course-correct’ by fucking up whatever nice bit of Reality they’ve manifested…

persona – 5 of Swords Rx

After experiencing the same kind of bullshit for some time, could be a number of years for some, too, your Destined Person could’ve become dejected. This is a very normal human response, right? They could’ve developed some kind of inertia within themselves. Always frozen mid-air when thinking of actually jumping into the next breakthrough or any other sense of adventure. They tend to not take action towards liberating themselves from either boredom or a dead-end of a situation.

A lot of people who interact with them regularly probably only know them as a mild-mannered person who’s quite pleasant to talk to. But deep inside, your Destined Person is raging chaos, waiting to murder someone. They’re sometimes possessed by this strong feeling of wanting to destroy something massive or ruin another person’s Life completely. All because they’re superbly frustrated by the lack of action or excitement in their own everyday Life…

At minimum, this is a person who could struggle quite a bit with regulating envy or jealousy upon seeing another person’s success, freedom and happiness, but most of all, another person’s sense of advancement in Life. This isn’t to say that your Destined Person is simply an evil fuck of a devil incarnate; actually, quite far from it! It’s just that this person has dealt with, really, quite a bit of systemic letdowns from the Universe itself…

Divine Human – Page of Pentacles Rx

Life rarely feels fair when someone’s Virgo-Pisces axis has harsh afflictions. Then again, this is quite literally your Destined Person’s ultimate test of strength and of character. That’s precisely why their Soul chose to be born with such afflictions in the first place. To see how their Human Avatar would navigate this type of crazy in their psyche~★ I promise you that you aren’t destined to marry an actual psychopath LMAO But, let’s see…

In the beginning, your Destined Person could’ve struggled with looking into the depths of their own disturbed psychology. This could be a fear from within themselves and so they refused to do so, but especially if your Destined Person is an XY, this could also be their environment/society’s wrong reinforcement when they say, ‘Boys will be boys, riiight?’ as a means to excuse your Destined Person’s refusal to learn and grow from their failures and mistakes *smh*

Whether XY or XX, your Destined Person’s mother could’ve been a pick-me or straight up a narc; and due to this lack of proper guidance, structure and discipline in your Destined Person’s childhood, they could’ve grown up to embody somewhat of a dark triad personality. In actuality, your Destined Person wasn’t allowed the chance to grow up emotionally or psychologically—honestly, whoever their mother figure was, she failed them.

WHAT IS LOVE🔻❤️

honey? – Priestess of Abundance

poison? – Priestess of Love

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – Lazy Escapism vs Mahoroba

‘People will do anything, no matter how absurd, in order to avoid facing their own souls.’ – Carl Jung

VIBE: Blue by EXO KAI

anima – 7 of Wands Rx

Your Destined Person is out with lanterns looking for themselves~ Doesn’t this picture make you think that? ^^ Your Destined Person is a walking paradox to say the least; they are the type that may not always be honest with even themselves. I sense it is because they feel this burden from all around them to be the highest-achiever or the best-mannered or whatever else. Other people have put such high expectations on them that they originally thought they too had to think precisely that way.

In the beginning, your Destined Person might not have known who they were at the core of their Soul. They had only known themselves through the lens of other people’s perception and expectations. Though they might have thought this normal when they were small, at some point in Life—possibly when Saturn made its last aspect at around age 21—your Destined Person was nudged by the Cosmos to go on a Soul-search.

During this time—and all through their first Saturn Return—your Destined Person realised for real for the first time that they are quite a rebellious spirit, and when met with the wrong situations, can honestly be quite vengeful XD At this point, they may have developed some bitter feelings about how they had allowed others to murky their own perception of themselves! This Soul-search could’ve been quite world-shattering for your Destined Person…

persona – 3 of Swords

Most people don’t seem to notice this but a self-denial kind of issue is actually really quite painful on an emotional and psychological level. Like this feeling of not knowing themselves, not embracing their inner child, not allowing themselves more freedom, all of this, upon being realised, broke your Destined Person’s heart so horribly. It was such a deep psychological issue that they may not have found any person to confide in.

Some of their friends, even closest friends, might’ve perceived that your Destined Person was distant from them. They sometimes felt standoffish or simply…well, distant. Not quite there with the rest of them or they could also have avoided hanging out too much with even those closest to them. They became somewhat of a loner. To process their feelings, your Destined Person often disappeared into the dreamscape.

In many ways, I think your Destined Person became quite deluded, if not delusional XD The dreamscape, their escapism, provided so much more comfort and excitement than real life. In the daydreams, they could be so much more real than what they’re allowed to be in the real world… So when you realise the reason, it’s really quite sad and poignant.

Divine Human – 6 of Pentacles

Your Destined Person is truly a Divine Human in that they do truly have such a generous, charitable heart. If this is your main pile, a common ground here is that your Destined Person is so much more kind and gentle than appearances may give—even if they’re already perceived as kind and gentle~ It’s almost unbelievable that someone as pure as this still exists in today’s world, especially if your Destined Person is an XY LMAO

This person, all they wanna do in Life is to be good and to love people and share good times and promote good deeds. Alas, that was very childish of them tsk tsk tsk… It took them a real smacking on the head to realise they’ve been victim to so much gaslighting practically their entire Life. Because in this wicked world, ‘goodness’ is weaponised by bad people to victimise actually good people.

A total mindfuck, yeah, took them a while. As they grow older, your Destined Person learns to balance between what is ‘fake short-term good’ and what’s ‘divinely good in the grand scheme of the Cosmos’. All in all, whether or not they have the technical knowledge, your Destined Person is actually a WITCH. Some of the most powerful witches out there—an alchemist of the highest order😉

WHAT IS LOVE🔻💚

honey? – Priestess of Inspiration

poison? – Priestess of Energy

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings] [buymeaboba]

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glitchgh0sty · 1 month ago

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asking here when it comes to deciding was exactly what soundwave will be; if he was a harpy would you go with the pjo disign for him or the tradishonal version from mytholigy; and if you chose a siren would you go ithe the ones in the sea or the bird ladys that actuly sing the songs that loer in sailers? exuce my bad spell in i was rushing

I cannot even tell you the number of times I’ve tried responding to this ask,, tumblr keeps forgetting my drafts and it’s killing me to death,, 😭💀✨

SoOo, I may be a liiitle indecisive, how about we squish a couple of concepts together why don’t we? 👏✨

Fundamentally,, I consider Soundwave to be a bird siren with just, a couple more feathers, XD,, like if I saw him chilling on a rock, my initial reaction would be “LOOK AT THAT BIRD!?” as opposed to “LOOK AT THAT FISH!?” 🫵🤨

Background wise Soundwave likes to chill next to the water because it’s easier to blame strange trills and noises on ocean echos or waves to passerby’s, then it is to get the kingdom guard off his back if they had found out about his abilities 📻🥷

I’ve never considered Soundwave to be a knight as he was created long after the initial knights fall, and only gained his Siren-like abilities due to a pledge he vowed to simply the belief of their existence,, [mostly to protect his cassettes <33] He unintentionally lost his sight to Primus in exchange for these cybernetic abilities because of this vow, u-u✨

Speaking of “Cybernetic Advancements” 👏òuo,, Soundwaves siren abilities are [mostly] used in self defense so what’ll happen [more often than not,, *evil snicker*] is that he’ll wait for his subject to wander into his territory, and create a frequency that matches their EM field rate and make subtle shifts that the target feels and reacts to,,

Making them stressed / anxious,, meaning that if they don’t leave immediately, then they’re usually just scared enough to run away screaming if he pops out at them 😤✨

And, why the tfp Soundwave design? 👀?

UHhm,, aesthetics?? Just look at him! Those big metal bits on the tfp design are literally begging to be some funky wings and feathers 👏😂

#tf cursed knights au #transformers #tfp soundwave #tfp laserbeak [if you squint hard enough >;] ✨]#I was so exited to get this ask #you’ve got no idea 😭#I was right in the middle of these wips and got the notif-#my immediate reaction was -#*Megatron esc laughter* yeES #with the eyes going in two different directions and everything TuŤ #let’s hope to PRIMUS that this post does not delete itself again 😭#🤞⚔️✨

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seyaryminamoto · 5 months ago

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My latest completed commission may have been a bit ambitious... because I went wild with it. But I certainly relished in doing so :') Combining my favorite ship with my favorite-ever Disney movie is, uh... a dangerous concoction :'D

The commissioner specifically requested for Azula as Mulan, Sokka as Shang, and Xin Long (my OC dragon from Gladiator) as Mushu. The rest of the cast was up to me to choose, and I pretty much went wild rewatching this movie and picking out some of my favorite moments to recreate them in my style, with these characters. I came up with a lot of correlating characters between both ATLA and 1998's Mulan, but I couldn't hope to draw EVERYTHING, unfortunately. Still, if you want my reasoning for the cast correlation... check out the Read More! Beyond that, feel free to reach out to me if you'd like to commission me, or if you want to join my Patreon!

The Herbalist as Mulan's grandmother might feel arbitrary but she honestly felt like the ATLA elderly lady with the most similar personality to Grandma Fa. Fickle, with a unique connection with a seemingly perfectly ordinary animal, old and sassy? Figured it fit! So for once, the Herbalist is Azula's grandma! xD strange notion, I know, Azulon/Herbalist is not a ship I ever thought I'd accidentally put out in the world but there have been wilder ships than that in this fandom...

Momo became Cri-Kee, I wasn't 100% sold on it but when I considered that Avatar features soooo many hybrid animals... I figured he could be a hybrid cricket-lemur. Weird, I know, but eh? Better than nothing xD

Aang as Chien-Po was a no-brainer. He's the only character I settled on instantly, never even considered anyone else for the role. Their personalities line up really well, and Chien-Po's tendency to be OP and resolve things that are outside of other people's reach sounded like he was prime Avatar material! So, while their dietary preferences are an obvious difference between them, I decided to go for it nonetheless considering all their other similarities!

Kino (another Gladiator OC) is Ling, and he actually did give me a ton of trouble to choose. I considered many characters for the role right up until I realized that Kino's personality actually lines up fairly well with Ling's, down to being a class clown type (who ABSOLUTELY would have cut gym class!) and breaking out in song about the hypothetical woman he'd like to fight for? Yeeeeah that's right up his alley xD but there's another reason why I picked Kino...

... And that is my likely unexpected choice for Yao:

ZUKO.

ZUKO IS YAO.

YES.

I'M NOT EVEN SORRY.

(For the uninitiated, Aang, Zuko and Kino are best friends in Gladiator, very often together, and they make a really good team, so that's the extra reason why Kino became the obvious choice for Ling aside from having really similar personalities, definitely closer personalities than, say, Jet, for instance.)

People have likened Zuko to Shang a LOT since ATLA aired. This is the main reason why I'm even making this huge note! I suspect it's primarily because of the aesthetic, let's be real here, and because he becomes Aang's teacher, but people have exaggerated Zuko's alleged similarities with Shang, or taken them out of proportion, in many ways. I actually remember an AMV ages ago with "Be a Man" and it was Zuko "training the Gaang"?? It... didn't feel right to me. Obviously, someone might rebuff with "well, how does Sokka make MORE sense than that, though?" And believe it or not, I have arguments for that... (when do I not...?)

Not only is this what the commissioner specifically requested (and it obviously lines up with the ship we love!), but let's examine the actual reasons why Sokka as Shang adds up:

Sokka actually had to train a bunch of toddlers who weren't paying any attention to him. You know. Kind of how Shang had to train the unruly soldiers who weren't getting anything right. Sokka has a positive relationship with his dad (Zuko, ofc, does not). Shang also has a positive relationship with his dad! And not only this, but there's a military component to both relationships, specifically with Shang wanting to follow on his father's footsteps and aid him in the war... so much like someone else I know, who jumped at every opportunity to rejoin his father in the war, even wishing to join him as a child until Hakoda tasked him with protecting their Tribe instead (kinda like Shang is tasked with training soldiers rather than joining a battlefield).

And the final cherry-on-top that I'd loooove to hear Zuko fans try to argue against... is sexism :') didn't Sokka get characterized as a sexist guy for four episodes, which made people decide that this was his main character trait even if it went away that quickly? Um, yes, that happened. Shang literally sings the memorable song that's a crazy ode to masculinity, including the rather sexist line of "did they send me daughters when I asked for sons". Shang outright abandons Mulan once they discover that she was a woman all along (while, admittedly, choosing to abandon her rather than KILL HER, which as we saw from Chi-Fu, he was NOT supposed to spare her!)...

So, is this REALLY what Zuko fans, who willfully believe their boy is a feminist king (... why? beats me...) are trying to compare their unproblematic blorbo to? :'D Me? I have no problem linking Sokka with Shang due to Sokka's beginnings and due to the fact that both Shang and Sokka have similar growth when it comes to accepting femininity is as valid as masculinity, and as they both learn to respect women as fighters and potential heroes! (I simply do not believe Sokka's ENTIRE tenure in ATLA was about that, though, and that's what I continue to clash with the fandom over...) So... all this is why I've reasoned that Sokka is a VERY solid choice for Shang, in fact, better than Zuko could hope to be.

... but this isn't all.

Maybe some might accept my arguments for Sokka-Shang. And then, they might ask:

WHY ZUKO AS YAO, THO??

... And the truth is it took me long to see it, myself, but HOLY SHIT, DOES IT FIT!

What is the primary thing we remember about Yao in Mulan? This guy is constantly itching for a fight, to prove himself, surely riddled with insecurities that he exteriorizes through overcompensation of masculinity. He's funny as fuck, but he's taking himself 100% seriously as a manly man all the time, and he's always ready for violence. But there's one more thing...

He treats Mulan as his RIVAL.

And more often than not? SHE SCREWS HIM OVER. Intentionally or not.

What does that sound like? Why, yes, it sounds a LOT like Azula and Zuko's sibling relationship!

The fact that Yao is a temperamental dude who lashes out easily at things (oh, something he has in common with Zuko!), that he specifically resents Mulan (in this case, Azula, just as Zuko does!) and is either constantly looking to defeat her and prove his superiority over her (... wait, just as Zuko with Azula??), that he has a black eye perpetually across the movie, and it's his LEFT EYE (just as Zuko's scar is on his left eye! :'D), that he's friends with a pacifist he has basically nothing in common with, personality-wise (just like Zuko and Aang!), and that he pretty much has a REDEMPTION ARC in which he goes from a bitter, asshole rival to Mulan to treating her as a friend and ally, to the point where he was disappointed to leave her behind and THEN joined her at once when she says she has a plan? :') I have always been critical of Zuko's redemption arc, goes without saying. But if ANY of these characters redeemed himself in any significant way, it certainly seems to be Yao to me, and with people gushing NON-STOP about Zuko's redemption? Why, he ought to be the character who goes from bitter rival to loyal friend, right?

So. I'm not even sorry. Zuko is Yao. And I'd dare say that he should be flattered by the comparison, even, because Yao ends up being cool as FUCK!

I don't really talk about this much nowadays, but Mulan was my favorite Disney movie growing up, it ABSOLUTELY had a formative influence on me as a little girl, and Mulan was my favorite female character for a looooong time. Thus, any excuse to rewatch this movie makes me happy as heck. With the wisdom of age I know, of course, that it's not perfect, it's not what China wants, it's not the most thoughtful depiction of Chinese culture or the most faithful adaptation of Mulan's poem (... but I'd also dare bring up that the 2009 Chinese adaptation ISN'T all that faithful either...), but it has a kind of magic in it, a solid storytelling flow, so many memorable moments one after the next, that I could hardly choose which scenes to depict... Disney has never again seen the storytelling heights it reached with Mulan in 1998. I don't even care if that's a controversial opinion in any way... this is their best animated feature for me, and nobody can change my mind.

So... depicting Azula, my beloved, in all these scenarios as this character I adored and idolized as a child, was so damn fulfilling for me. While some might think that, personality-wise, these two ladies don't have much in common, the fact that Mulan is sent to a matchmaker who basically tells her she looks good but is going to be the worst wife ever...? Our girl Azula, with all those insecurities about being unloveable and a monster, probably would relate big time to that.

Mulan is also an INTELLIGENT soldier rather than a brawny one, which is how she starts to make progress in the army, it's how she manages to overcome the huns with that avalanche... and Azula's primary difference with most other antagonists in ATLA is that she's smart as fuck. She is very strong, no doubt, but a LOT of that strength comes from her intelligence, from assessing situations in unique ways, from planning and strategizing. The way Mulan finds the most unexpected solutions that still pay off reminds me a lot of how Azula achieves unexpected feats through rather unorthodox means, capable of taking over a city with basically no bloodshed while her nation has spent 100 years trying and failing to do so through major army incursions and who knows how much senseless violence. Obviously, I'm not saying what Azula did is GOOD and it's kind of dumb that we always have to point that out... I'm merely comparing the magnitude of the feats, and the fact that they both come from ladies who use strategy and intelligence to achieve their goals rather than muscle and physical power.

And while anyone would rage at me for the comparison between Fa Zhou (her dad) and Ozai, the truth is the dynamic between them CAN be compared, if loosely: Mulan literally goes to war to keep her father safe. Azula goes to war under her father's orders. Hell, she makes herself BAIT in the Eclipse to make sure the Gaang won't get to her dad?? While it's very much possible to say that both characters have different personalities and attitudes in life... I'd also bring up that their contexts are evidently completely different. I wouldn't say for certain that Azula, had she been raised outside a Royal Family, would be EXACTLY like Mulan... but they might have more similar traits than one might expect. Ultimately, though... I love them both. And this opportunity to swap their places was pretty much a dream come true!

Alright, that was plenty of rambling xD ultimately, I had a blast doing this commission, as I'm sure is obvious by now. So! If anyone wants to commission me, feel free to check out my prices right here and hit me up if you're interested!

#sokkla #sokka #azula #mulan au #xin long #zuko #aang #kino #the herbalist #momo #if you squint he's there okay he is just too damn complicated as a hybrid cricket-lemur alright #Xin Long is scale-less because he was too small and it was gonna look weird so for once he was a little less tricky :'D #I wish I could've had MORE epic scenes really this movie is a goddamn GEM #goldmine of glorious moments #it's just wonderful #I usually get sick of things as I work too much with them...#... Sokkla and Mulan are clearly a glorious exception to that rule #I wish I could've put in scenes with other correlating characters #Combustion Man was gonna be Shan-Yu #Chi-Fu was gonna be Long Feng #I can't remember who I had in mind for the emperor anymore #wasn't Kuei because he had to be old but welp #and yes it's too bad it's too sad there are not enough female characters here for the rest of the ATLA female cast...#but while I BRIEFLY considered making Toph one of the trio (Yao ofc)#the naked scene convinced me of the opposite quickly #... Toph would not succeed at convincing anyone that she was born a man she would straight up not even try #she'd just beat everyone up and scare them into shutting up #and while I'd LOVE to see that... it absolutely takes out the stakes from Azula being discovered as a woman pretending to be a man :'D #how tf would you kick one girl out while keeping the other one in the army #when the other one should be bold enough to stand on a rock in her birthday suit showing herself off in front of everyone

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bloodismymedium · 3 months ago

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Mona x Tina Toxic Yuri Headcanons because I’m a bad person 🫀🌸🔪🧁

Ya’ll can blame @dollsleeper for giving me the toxic yuri bug. I am officially a Tona shipper thanks to them XD

TW: references to sexual assault, stockholm syndrome, stalking and abuse

☠️ Mona didn’t think much of Tina when she first laid eyes on her, she was just another piece of meat to be used in her art, what really made her fall in love with Tina was when she heard her scream. She heard so many screams before her and always took twisted pleasure in hearing the screams of her victims but Tina’s screams just hit different, it was like a beautiful song to her and she wanted to hear it forever. Ironically, Tina’s screaming was what saved her life because it made Mona do what she never did with any of her victims… she hesitated in killing her. Mona would have many lesbian thoughts about Tina since that fateful day, she often wondered how soft her hair must be and how much she yearned to smell the perfume on her body again.

☠️ Mona became completely obsessed with Tina after hearing that beautiful scream of her’s and would end up stalking her for the next two years, memorizing her schedule, occasionally stealing her belongings but she didn’t make a move on her until after watching her interview. Mona took Tina’s “once you’ve been to hell, you don’t come back” quote as a sign that Tina wanted to come back to her, like a piece of her was still with Mona since that day and she was beckoning Mona to take her back… It was the most romantic thing Mona has ever heard in her life.

☠️ Mona actually tries to make sure Tina is as comfortable as possible. She took her beautiful, bloodstained lace bedsheets with her to put over the dirty mattress she has Tina placed on, she actually cooks her food even if they don’t turn out right most of the time, she’ll cuddle up with her if she looks like she’s cold, she’ll check to see if the pretty pink collar she picked out for her isn’t too tight, she even bathes her semi-frequently.

☠️ Tina is constantly trying to fight off the warm, fuzzy feelings that Mona gives her. She doesn’t want to admit how much she melts when Mona touches her thigh, she hates how good she feels when Mona says things like “you inspire me so much” and “you’re so pretty when you cry”, she finds herself actually blushing when Mona compliments her. Every day is an inner war to stop herself from falling in love with the woman who killed everyone around her, dismembered her and now keeps her hostage in what looks and smells like a lived in sewer.

☠️ Tina hates herself for finding Mona so pretty, she’s a monster, one who killed her sister, her boyfriend and her mother, mutilated her, keeping her alive just to treat her like some kind of toy or pet… and yet she thinks her long, black hair is so pretty, her eyes so beautifully haunting, the expressions she makes when she paints those horrible portraits are strangely charming, that course yet oddly soothing voice that makes her feel a strange combo of fear and comfort. She just can’t keep Mona out of her head and she hates it.

☠️ Mona loves to doll up Tina, dressing her up in pretty outfits and doing her makeup, trying out different hairstyles, she would even do her nails if she still had hands. Tina hates this but she’s learned not to fight back, having come to fear making Mona angry and besides, every day, against her better judgement she likes Mona’s games of dress up a tiny bit more. Mona knows this too, remembering the time when Tina blushed after Mona said she had good fashion sense.

☠️ Mona and Tina surprisingly have a lot of common. They both have a major sweet tooth, they both have a love for nature even though Tina is a deer girl and flower enjoyer while Mona is a rat and bug lady who collects molds, spores and fungus, they both have artistic talent and an interest in the arts (Tina being a knitter and sewer) and they even have a shared quirk in a tendency to play around with their hair when bored or anxious.

☠️ Tina is bisexual but she’s kept her sexuality a secret from her mother since she’s a conservative christian type and she feared she wouldn’t accept her if she found out, Jack and Flora both knew however. It can be surmised that Mona is pan since she has a very “a hole is a hole” mentality when it comes to sex but she wouldn’t identify as pansexual since she doesn’t really care for labels.

☠️ Shockingly, Mona hasn’t gone too far in forcing herself upon Tina. She could easily subject her to her darkest, sexual fantasies like she has done to so many others and you better believe she’s had some real devious thoughts and yet the worst she’s done to her is groping/squeezing her breasts and thighs on a regular basis or licking her face. Tina of course is horrified and disgusted by these acts and yet… why does her face and nethers feel so warm when she does it? And why does she whimper and mew the way she does when Mona bites her neck and shoulders even when she draws blood? And why does she always kind of look forward to when Mona cuddles up to her even when she’s soaking in blood?…

☠️ Bill is VERY jealous of all the attention Tina gets from Mona and is always thinking about murdering and getting rid of her so that he can be Mona’s “favorite” again but has enough smarts left to know that he would be severely punished, maybe even killed if he did so he has no choice but to grit and bare it. His patience will always be tested when Mona talks about her while they’re out murdering like when Mona finds some kind of accessory or article of clothing and will ask Bill “do you think Tina would like this?”. Bill will scare the shit out of Tina when Mona isn’t around in a vain attempt at revenge against her.

#mona x tina #tona #toxic yuri #headcanons #mona lanius #tina rosenburg #bill collins #urbanspook #urbanspook the painter #the painter #also yes the dividers are suppose to represent mona and tina respectively and the general vibes I get from them❤️❤️❤️

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paintbrushnebula · 6 months ago

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Ghostflower Headcanons

As romantic gestures, Miles loves setting up these elaborate (if a little overkill) activities for Gwen to do, whether it's a special occasion or just. whenever feels like it. They're always these elaborate treasure hunts that he'll set up for her to complete. Like for Valentine's Day--Gwen never stirs in her sleep, so he'll surround her sleeping form with lilacs and peonies all around on the bed so she can wake up basking in their scent. Then this gesture will be somehow tooled as the first clue in this elaborate scavenger hunt across several dimensions, each stop being a cute little romantic gesture like a lovely written note or souvenirs from their times together. He'll have like, puzzles that require playing music or reading scores to move forward in the hunt. And Gwen LOVES them. She likes adventures and the ones Miles orchestrates for her always involve her having to use her many talents. She kinda sees Miles' games as a sweet, fun way of staying sharp. ^_^

Miles will mindlessly rub his face against Gwen's cheek whenever when he greets her or bids her farewell after a long day. A lot of people find it a little strange lol, but know better than to judge Miles in front of Gwen.

Ghostflower's petnames....so Miles sucks at pet names. He can't think of any good ones besides whatever he's heard his Mami say to Jeff (so just the usual "mi amor.") Mamita works for her too. But aside from that, all the typical English pet names (so like "honey," "sweetie," etc) just feel weird coming off his tongue, he thinks they're cringe and he hates saying them XD. Besides there's just something about how much he loves saying Gwen's name. He loves her name. It's like music to him. And every new time he says it makes his heart flutter more than the last. Gwen's pet names for Miles on the other hand are very... eherm...varied. Like she does use all the typical English pet names, but she'll also randomly spout some very creative names that have to do with situations they're in or objects she just saw or smth, I hope I'm explaining this right 😭 So for example, "my weighted blanket" (if they were just sleeping), or "cupcake brain," "coffee bean," "my bespeckled cheekster" or some other stupid thing she randomly comes up with on the spot XD.

Gwen is big spoon but Miles will jump off a bridge if Hobie finds out

Lol in fact, a lot of how Gwen treats Miles (fluffy pet names, cuddling him) is stuff Miles never wants Hobie to see XD. So picture Miles melting into Gwen on the couch while she runs fingers through his hair, then Hobie walks in and Miles flings himself right out of Gwen's arms, sitting up straight and clearing his throat, "aherm, wh-whassup' man." And like, Hobie probably wouldn't even give a dang XD. But Miles feels the need to keep up this... intimidating "not some feeble gumdrop" reputation around certain spiders like Hobie, Miguel, and now Peter B, etc.

Gwen hates the heat, she always has to have the AC on or at least a fan in front of her. Sometimes both. But Miles is very sensitive to the cold. So this becomes a dilemma when they're in the same room. Then it breaks out into a back and forth "no it's okay, I can turn it off/No it's okay! I can just put on a jacket!" Eventually they'll reach a compromise: Gwen can have the AC, but she has to cuddle Miles close so he can keep warm.

Miles likes to paint or draw on Gwen a LOT. Like it basically becomes the norm Gwen's their friends and family to see her walking around with what appears to be temporary "tattoos." Sometimes there'll be "Miles x Gwen" in graffiti-styled lettering on her shoulder, or little spider-man chibis with little speech bubbles, or a jumble of illustrations of places they've been to, lyrics from songs he likes, and just colorful geometry painted all around her arm like a tattoo sleeve, or sunflowers on her cheeks, or just random lines and shapes here and there on her knuckles, arms or jawline. Miles will paint on her whenever he has the chance, whether she's in conversation with a completely different person, or she's doing work, writing, eating-anything. She always lets him, she loves it. And when they're alone and he's drawing on her, they'll sit in a comfortable silence the whole time, it's very...entrancing for Gwen when they're alone in a quiet room and he's hardly making any noise while she feels markers and paintbrushes dancing across her skin.

#atsv #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #gwen stacy #miles morales #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderverse headcanons #ghostflower #gwiles #gwen x miles #miles x gwen

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mokulule · 2 years ago

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Ghastly Glacial Goodies

What is this Moku? Another AU? Yep, sorry not sorry. It's cute okay! I'm gonna be doing illustrations and stuff. Also ice cream, who doesn't love ice cream? I blame this like 70% on @clockwaysarts cause they were playing around with a blob popsicle design (a blobsicle XD) and this thing spawned. Thanks to the people who took part in brainstorming on the Dead on Main server.

Chapter 1 - Polaris

The evening was dreary that day. Jason couldn’t tell you what had made him want to take a pre-patrol walk of all things. The light drizzle wasn’t terrible, but he’d been out so long his hair was plastered wetly to his forehead. The sun hadn’t quite gone down yet, but the clouds stole a lot of the light. A white mist had rolled in from the bay, softening the corners of buildings, and it almost made the world feel unreal. It dampened the sounds of the city and echoed his steps.

That was when he heard it, like little bells or a music box, a haunting tune. He frowned and followed the beckoning sound. He knew that melody, though it played a bit slow. What was the name again? He walked, unknowingly matching the notes as they slowly gained speed. A sense of urgency rose in his chest. He turned a corner and froze, stunned.

In the light from a hazy streetlight was an ice cream truck.

In this weather? Jason’s befuddled brain protested as he took in the downright baffling sight of the truck and the surprisingly many customers in line as well as the groups of people chatting and smiling eating ice cream in the rain.

The truck was all soft rounded edges with minty green accents, a cartoon ghost that looked as surprised as Jason felt with wide eyes and a mouth in an o decorated the side of the truck beside the counter. A quaint canopy stretched out over the counter. Its white and pastel pink stripes ended in festive tapered triangles which looked more at home at a fair, than some random street in Gotham. Apropos Jason looked up trying to figure out where he was, but didn’t find any street signs, just the sign telling him this street was a dead end.

The music was still playing, pleasant bells clinging softly. It didn’t feel so urgent now. He remembered the song suddenly: In the Hall of the Mountain King. A strange song for an ice cream truck, Jason thought as he walked to the back of the line. In the play wasn’t it for when Peer Gynt was escaping the mountain? That seemed in a way like the opposite of what an ice cream truck should signal. But then again as long as people recognized the song that would draw them in anyway. It was still a very impressive line for the weather.

The line moved slowly but steadily. The happy chatter was like a comforting blanket of background noise and Jason felt his shoulders slowly relax. He reached a sign that showed off various shaped ice creams on sticks in the shape of what looked like cartoon people and a happy green… blob? with red eyes called a blobsicle. It was a ghost Jason suddenly realized, of course that was the theme going by the truck.

Polaris the sign said in big swirly letters and then underneath in a smaller type it said “Ghastly Glacial Goodies” - someone had really wanted the alliteration there, Jason thought bemused. That person might be the young man behind the counter who just wished a girl and her mother a good night, before turning to the last person before Jason. I was hard to judge the man’s height since he was inside the truck, but he struck Jason as short, he was on the slender side an impression only enhanced by the formfitting green striped west and the way he whipped around inside the truck filling the newest order.

Apparently the current customer was buying for his friends, there had been pointing to a waving group standing a few yards away. It gave Jason another moment to ponder his options. The glass shield had stickers on it detailing the various scoopable options - they included such gems as Booberry, Spookistacchio and Rum and Raising, which had a small cartoon zombie on its sticker. Jason felt almost like he could have stayed there all day chuckling over all the silly puns, they had certainly committed to the bit.

Finally the last order was handed over with a wide smile. The ice cream guy exuded such a genuine warmth, that had nothing to do with the actual temperature - in fact it was really cold Jason noted as he sniffled to stop his nose from running.

Finally ice cream guy, Danny his name tag said, faced Jason in his classic ice cream man glory; striped vest, sleeves rolled up to his elbows he even had a silly little hat in his unruly black hair, it was a miracle it stayed on.

Danny looked a bit startled to see him, but then his smile was back and he leaned on the counter slightly to be eye level with Jason. Jason felt his breath hitch just slightly in his throat; It was almost like those blue eyes sparkled like stars.

“Why hello there, haven’t seen you around Polaris before.”

Jason shook himself out of it, grasping for something to say in return, what popped into his head was the oddity of the music, what came out was, “So are you the Troll King?”

For a moment everything was silent, then Danny burst out laughing. Hand over his mouth, he leaned on the counter. His shoulders shook as he tried to contain his snickering.

“You-“ he lost control and laughed, “are the first person” - more laughing - “to remark on the music.”

The laughter was infectious and Jason found himself chuckling. His cheeks hurt slightly from smiling. He wasn’t sure when he’d last smiled this much.

Danny finally gained control over his laughter. He peeked up at Jason through his fingers from where he was practically lying over the counter.

“Not quite the Troll King,” he snickered again before straightening up and gesturing around himself “but welcome to my castle of ghastly glacial goodies.”

“Did you have to think hard on that one?”

Danny’s face turned mock serious. “You have no idea, there were even thesauruses involved.” Then in a lower voice he added to himself, “violent little bastards.”

“What was that?” Jason said, not sure he heard that right.

“Never mind,” Danny smiled, “so what can I do for you? You’re my last customer of the night.”

Jason frowned confused and looked around. To his shock, somehow everyone had left without him even noticing, it was just him, Danny and the truck in the lamplight. He had to be really off his game tonight maybe he was coming down with a cold. He sniffled again and saw Danny frown worriedly. Ice cream wasn’t suitable for the wet weather, but it seemed silly to have stood in line and not get any.

“Do you have any recommendations?”

“Well, all ice cream is made by yours truly so I can’t really pick a favorite, but bloop of the month is Rum and Raising.”

Of course it was the zombie one, wait-

“Bloop?”

“Yeah instead of scoops? I was told it was cuter than gloops.”  Jason blinked.

“Here let me show you.” Danny grabbed a cone and expertly swirled the ice cream scoop round his fingers once before scooping up a mostly round ball of Rum and Raising and plopping it in the cone, he then considered for moment before adding another scoop, this time of “Cosmic Crunch”. He then pressed four small round red gummies into the ice cream, two on each “bloop” and held it out for Jason to inspect and huh, they had eyes now - a bit similar to the Blobsicle actually, except these were stacked on top of each other. It was a kinda cute idea, kids probably loved it.

Jason took the ice cream.

“How much do I owe you?”

“Four dollars, and this is on the house.“ He pushed a cardboard cup of steaming coffee towards Jason on the counter. “That will bring back a bit of life to you, you’re looking a bit ghastly.”

“Ha ha, very funny.” Jason rolled his eyes, but he was feeling pretty cold and he sniffled again as he found the money and put it on the counter next to the cup. “But thanks anyway.”

“Have a good night.” Danny smiled warmly and Jason couldn’t help but smile in return. He lifted the cup as a salute and turned around to walk away. He took a small sip and instantly felt warmth spread in his chest. That really hit the spot. He kept sipping at the coffee until a drip of melted ice cream hit his fingers and reminded him of the ice cream.

Oh yeah, he had paid for this.

He licked at the droplet and quickly followed it back up the cone to make sure there would be no more dripping. Cosmic crunch he quickly discovered was hazelnut with lots of crunchy nuts and he didn’t really know how to classify the rest. There was something indefinably delicious about it. Yes, it was all the things ice cream should be, creamy, smooth, rich, but there was something more. Like something he never knew he needed. Before he realized it he was down to the last bits and biting into the cone. Only a few more bites and it was gone.

That was-

It was easily the most delicious ice cream he ever had, but not only that; he felt sated, calm and almost floaty. Was the ice cream drugged? Alarmed at the thought, he spun around, but all that met him was a long empty street with no ice cream truck in sight.

Had he really walked that far already?

He would track down the ice cream truck later. He looked at his phone, it was almost midnight. How odd… He must have stood in line longer than he thought. No patrol was happening tonight, he realized with a yawn. He was much too tired.

The walk to his apartment was a blur, and it felt like it was only a couple of steps until he fell over on top of his bed, clothes and all. Everything was so fuzzy and nice.

Jason slept with no nightmares.

Okay, so this is definitely a small back burner project I'm working on, so don't expect any regular-ish updates, they are gonna happen when they happen. And now that I've gotten that out of my system I can hopefully focus writing the next bit for Catnip.

#dp x dc #dead on main #it's cute #and kinda spooky #Jason has no idea what's going on #do you?#Danny is indeed not the troll king but he is something of a troll #Danny has an ice cream truck AU #cause he's got ice powers #it needed to happen #was considering for a moment if Danny would freeze actual blobs for the blobsicles #or if just ectoenhanced ice cream #Jason is dead adjacent #Polaris #ghastly glacial goodies

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waayoutofline · 3 months ago

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Murder On The Dance Floor (part 3)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Prompt: Vigilante!Reader x Agent!Natasha

Summary: Natasha isn’t having the best of luck in trying to bring one of the ex Hydras general down. You however may be able to assist her. Will you two be able to cooperate? Or is it your fate to always stand on opposite teams?

Warnings: Nothing too explicit. Just angst-

WORD COUNT: 3849

A / N: Helloo! So, this is a lengthy one. Remember when I said that this was a trilogy? Well, clearly not-There will be at least one more xd Thank you all for reading and interacting <3

***

When it came to Agent Natasha Romanoff, the word easy was never in your vocabulary. If anything, your dynamic was the opposite. Between the two — both so different, so stubborn and set in your own ways—peace never had a chance to take root.

But as you two glided onto the dance floor with a scary synchronization, an old ‘70s song playing softly, that elusive word was the only one that came close to describing the moment.

It was staggeringly, painfully easy.

The redhead took the lead almost instantly, with a grace and serenity that seemed worlds away from her usual strict persona. The lights cast errant glimmers of gold and silver over her, making her pale skin seem to glow. The faint scent of her perfume left a trace in the air that you couldn’t help to notice.

In these fleeting instances, the woman you’d been at odds with for years seemed subtly, strangely changed.

As if swaying to the beat, guiding you effortlessly through each step, was something she was born to do—like reuniting with an old friend from the past.

You might’ve been confident in your own skill, but you were briefly relieved that Natasha clearly knew what she was doing. If you hadn’t known her better, you might have mistaken her for any of the prestigious dancers here.

Struck by the unfamiliarity of the moment, you were startled back by the countdown of Ethan Cole.

“One, two, three, one!” With that, the music changed to a more upbeat song, and everyone sprung into action.

With a firm grip on your waist, Natasha pulled you closer to her, her lips lightly gracing your ear. You could feel the warmth of her body contrasting against your usually chilled skin.

”So, what now?” She blurts out, straight to the point. You create some just enough distance to blink up at her innocently.

“Oh, whatever do you mean?” You asked sweetly. The redhead didn’t even blink as she stared you down with an unimpressed look.

”Please, we both know you're not planning on winning this with the honour of sportsmanship, so let's cut down the chase.” You couldn’t help but laugh at that. Oh, perhaps she did know you.

“But that’s my favourite part!” You practically whined.

She was right, of course. You weren’t stupid enough to let season veterans surpass you so easily. “You wound me, Natasha. I can play nice, y’know.” You defy, but she merely looks at you.

“Perhaps. But you don't really want to, do you?” She mutters, lowly enough to almost get engulfed by the base notes of the song. But you hear it loud and clear, the words sending a pang of excitement which further increases as you see the tiniest of smiles graze her lips. “So, who is it going to be first? The Barbie and Ken you have been eying up since we first arrived? Or perhaps that one couple who just came out from a 70s disco ball special magazine?

Your smirk went into a full-blown grin. ”Ah, perhaps some of my mischievousness has rubbed off on you.” You taunted defiantly.

“You wish” She scoffed, now with a small smirk of her own. This was no different from your usual banter, but instead of the underlying aggressiveness, there was just harmless playfulness. It felt familiar but strange all the same.

“Just…-“

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” you interrupted, rolling your eyes with a playful huff. “Don’t worry. It’ll be a… bloodless murder on the dance floor. Just try not to kill the groove, and we’ll get that pass.”

Natasha arched an eyebrow at your quip, a glint of challenge in her eye. Before you could process it, she pulled you in close, spinning you around with a swift, practised move. In an instant, you found yourself pressed against her, her hand settling confidently on your hips.

Heat flushed your cheeks as her face leaned in close to your ear, her breath warm against your skin. You could practically feel the overconfidence radiate off of her when she whispered, “Oh you got it twisted Raven. You will be the one trying to keep up with me.”

You gulped, not really knowing how to react to this sudden shift in her attitude. No, you were the one who usually teased her, not the other way around. It was throwing you slightly off balance.

After another beat, she spun you around again, bringing you face to face. You pray to the high heavens that she doesn’t notice the slight pink on your cheeks.

As if on cue, a call of ‘The all together’ rang out. In the blink of an eye, the dancers fell into a line formation, their bodies synchronized, down to the stomps on the ground. Arms raised in a clap, performing a series of dramatic moves in perfect unison.

You seized the brief moment of distance from your peers to gather your thoughts. This wasn’t the time to lose focus. No, you were here for a reason. This time there was something higher at stake.

Natasha distracting you shouldn’t even be a factor! But ever since stepping onto the floor, it was as though she had done a complete 180 on you.

The intensity rose, some couples are already being disqualified, but there were still too many people left, you realized. Shaking your head, you took a deep breath. Concentrate, Raven.

Graciously, Natasha seemed to float above the air as she reached for you again. Once you two were together again, you scanned the other participants' positions, trying to find an opening.

A sigh escapes you, thinking how easy it could have all this been if Natasha didn’t force you to play nice.

As the two of you engaged in some movements, you eyes landed on the various couples. Some were already moving with impressive confidence, reaching cockiness.

You cursed softly under your breath. This just barely started and you already have seen someone being spun through the air like a helicopter.

But if they think they are going to get away with victory, you are going to prove them wrong.

”Move us to the right.” You mutter in her ear as she pulls you in close after yet another crossed movement. Surprisingly enough, the redhead complies, easily moving you around to where you desired.

Rolling away, you “accidentally” flex your leg, just in the nick of time to make a woman trip and fall on her backside.

There was a commotion as the girl’s partner stumbled, desperately trying to catch her up, but it was too late. One of the judges noticed the mistake and promptly disqualified the two.

The girl, red-faced with fury and indignation, started throwing accusations in your direction, her words growing more frantic as she was pulled away by her partner—and eventually by Cole himself, who seemed to have none of it. Her protests were muffled by the booming call of the “All Together.”

Natasha stepped up beside you, gawking.

“What?” you said, shrugging and refusing to look her way. “It got the job done, didn’t it?

Her lack of answer was enough for you.

Your attention shifted to an obnoxiously coordinated trio of men directly in front of you. You rolled your eyes, already setting your sights on them. Before you could make your move, Natasha’s hands found their way to your hips, effortlessly guiding your body to the rhythm.

Her movements were fluid, her touch steady, and your coordination fell perfectly in line as though you two have been practising this for weeks. Was there anything she wasn’t good at? You asked yourself in a mix of confusion and subtle admiration. Not that you would ever confess the last one of course.

As she extended both your arms outward, her free hand brushed over your shoulder in a deliberate motion. Your breath hitched, your eyes fluttering slightly at the unexpected gentleness. You weren’t used to this—weren’t used to her like this.

“I know that glint,” she muttered near your ear, her voice knowing. “Got another victim in your sights, don’t you?”

You hummed in confirmation as you guided her with your eyes to the next person to sabotage, not trusting your voice to sound steady. Natasha caught on to your plan as you slipped from her grasp, gracefully executing a cross-body turn.

She was quick to guide you back into rhythm as you swooped in, swiftly grabbing the thin strap of one of the competitors’ dresses. With a tug, the whole dress fell, pooling at the woman’s feet.

A gasp escaped the blonde as she scrambled to cover herself, fleeing in panic with her partner chasing after her.

“That was mean,” Natasha admonished, though the laugh she barely stifled betrayed her. The corners of her lips twitched upward, and for a moment, the guarded edge that so often was present in your exchanges softened under the shimmering light of the mirror ball.

“Oh? Is Agent Romanoff actually having fun?” you teased, unable to hide your delight at the rare shift in her demeanour.

Natasha huffed, but the faintest trace of a smile lingered on her lips, betraying her amusement.

It caught you off guard. The usual tension and harshness that defined your… relationship, seemed to dissolve in the glimmering light. For once, there was no mission, no stakes—just the two of you, sharing a laugh in a moment that felt painfully human. Having a nice, casual moment

A voice laughed mockingly in your head at that.

This went on for a while to the point where even less people remained. The only issue was that the quality of them was also notoriously good.

Through the speakers, one judge announce a small break time. The competitors were expected to keep a bit of a groove going, but it was also a chance to grab some refreshments. It did give you an idea.

“If you’ll excuse me,” you said softly, stepping away from Natasha. Before she could ask what you were about to do, you managed to slip through the crowd, your movements fluid enough to blend in with the rhythm of the room.

Spotting the drinks table ahead, you made your way toward it, gliding with purpose. You glanced around, making sure the coast was clear, then discreetly twisted the hidden compartment on your ring, revealing a small amount of white powder. Just as you were about to mix it into the lemonade, a familiar presence stopped you.

Natasha.

This time, she succeeded in intercepting you, catching your wrist. Her grip was firm but not rough.

“Raven—” She started, with doubt. It wasnt as accusatory as usual, but it had enough distrust.

“Natasha,” you interrupted, mimicking her tone, though the seriousness on her face made you falter slightly.

The playfulness from earlier was briefly diminished, replaced with a slightly sharper gaze that meant business.

Of course. You were briefly enchanted by your timed truce. Natasha’s trust in you still remained as fragile as always.

You sighed, deciding to drop the act. “Geez relax, I’m not poisoning anyone. It’s just laxatives,” you admitted with a chuckle. “Lame, I know, but effective.”

Her eyes narrowed as she studied you, searching for any sign of deceit. But you held her gaze steadily, unflinching. After a tense moment, she finally released your arm. “Thank you,” you said while forcing a grin, stepping past her toward the table.

You didn’t know why her distrust stung, it wasn’t like the two of you were friends.

“Now shoo—you’ll scare off the boys.” You winked with an overexaggerated enthusiastic expression before turning back to your task, feeling her eyes linger on you for a moment longer before she moved away. Quickly putting in the powder, you stirred the drinks, stood pretty and waited.

Quickly enough, the trio of men from before approached you, each one wearing what they likely thought were “million-dollar” smiles. You greeted them warmly enough, keeping your expression as unassuming as possible.

“Hey there. Saved some drinks for us?” one asked cockily.

Feigning shyness, you nodded and held out the drinks.

“I’ve been watching you,” another added, his voice dripping with confidence. “Quite the pretty thing with some decent moves, aren’t ya?” His eyes gave you a once-over, and you fought the urge to roll your own. Oh, you’d been watching them too, alright.

You accepted the compliment with a small, bashful smile as they eagerly grabbed their drinks, clearly parched.

They didn’t hesitate, drinking quickly. It didn’t take long for discomfort to show on their faces. Their grins faltered, replaced by pained grimaces, and just as quickly as they had arrived, they were stumbling away, clutching their stomachs.

You finished your own drink with a satisfied grin, which you quickly replaced with one of feigned confusion.

However, your moment of triumph didn’t last long. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Montgomery’s sharp gaze locked onto you.

You froze briefly, then scanned the dance floor for Natasha, only to realize that she had noticed too. When her eyes met yours across the room, an unspoken understanding seemed to pass between you.

Before you could process what was happening, Natasha moved swiftly. Taking advantage of the distraction caused by the participants crowding the drink table, she slipped out of sight, disappearing behind the curtains. A moment later, you caught a glimpse of her grabbing Montgomery—the older woman’s face twisting in surprise—before they both vanished from the floor entirely.

You blinked, momentarily stunned.

Huh. You didn’t think she had it in her to play along with your games.

She soon enough came out of the shadows, moving towards you as if nothing happened, just in time for the dance to resume. Guiding you yet again to the dance floor, you couldn’t help but so sneaker. She huffs while moving to position.

“That was reckless.” She comments. You shrug, hands returning to your rightful place.

“What’s life without a little risk? Besides, now we only have two judges to care for.” She doesn’t look necessarily pleased with your justification, but relentless nonetheless.

“Spin me around.” You muttered, subtly patting your chest with your free hand. Always observant, Natasha caught the motion, her curiosity piqued as her eyes followed the movement. When she didn’t respond, you felt slightly put off.

“Natasha?” you called again, your tone playfully insistent.

When her gaze finally locked with yours, you seized the moment, winking with a knowing smirk and raising your eyebrow, questioning.

It could have been the rising temperature or the suffocating heat of the lights, but you were certain the blush that crept up to her ears was very real. Ah, got caught.

She was embarrassed, you realized. It felt a bit nice, seeing for once the imperfect and human person under the secretive superspy. Not that she would ever really show you willingly, you thought.

Finally, she lifted both your arms with deliberate ease, guiding you into a smooth spin. With flawless timing, you used the momentum to grab the butter packet you snatched from the snack table, flicking it right under the heel of a currently spinning dancer.

Grinning with satisfaction, you watched as the pair stumbled when she slipped and lost their footing, resulting in yet another immediate disqualification.

This pattern continued throughout the night. Your personal favourite moment came when you managed to slip one of your lacy thongs into the pocket of an unsuspecting male dancer. The garment was just visible enough for his partner to spot it, her face twisting in fury before she slapped him hard across the cheek.

Hiding in Natasha’s arms, you parted away from her chest as if startled by the scene, gasping dramatically.

“Wasn’t that one too far?” Natasha murmured, her tone low, brushing past playful. “I think you just broke a relationship.”

You shrugged, your smirk teasing as you feigned innocence. “Hey, I paid the price,” you said with a light-hearted tone, but then your grin turned sharper, your eyes glinting with mischief. You leaned in as if to share a secret. “I looked really, really good in those.”

Your voice dipped just enough to charge the air, and as you pulled back, you met Natasha’s gaze through your lashes, your head tilted ever so slightly in a challenge.

You didn’t miss the way her breath hitched. The mask of her usual composure faltered, her eyes darkening ever so slightly as her grip on your waist tightened. For a fraction of a second, you felt her fingers curl against you, her control slipping.

“Careful,” she said finally, her voice low and rough, almost a warning.

She knew what you were doing. You were using the same techniques that seemed to be engraved in you. The seductiveness, the calculated teasing. A mechanism.

It was one thing that set her off, not knowing when the real you started or ended.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’m just practising.” This made Natasha’s eyebrows furrow, a characteristic wrinkle appearing right above her nose bridge when she was confused. You always noticed it because, well, it was probably the expression you made her feel the most.

“The slick brunette seems to hold Harper’s attention. I’m going to redirect it to me,” you said with confidence. But before you could head to the judge’s table, something tugged at you.

Ugh, Natasha couldn’t seem to let you go. If it were any other circumstance, you’d be flattered, really.

You turned around again, fully expecting a judging look and a disapproving frown. Or even something you were all too familiar with in your life—people who looked at you as if you were a nuisance, always glancing down at you from above their shoulders.

But no, what you encountered was… worry. A strange, almost foreign expression in Natasha’s repertoire that she had reserved for you, and one you’d never seen directed at you.

But there was no mistaking it. Her eyes seemed to glimmer, her lips tugging downward in clear displeasure. Her mouth opened slightly, but only a shaky breath escaped for a few seconds before she seemed to regain her composure.

You had never seen this kind of worry on her face, not when it came to you.

Finally, Natasha straightened, her body language shifting into something calmer, almost careful, as she stepped toward you.

“There’s no need for that.” she said, her voice soft, as if she were trying not to scare you away.

Still confused by the sudden change, you tilted your head up to meet her gaze. “It’s nothing I haven’t done before,” you replied, trying to sound casual.

Her expression, however, didn’t relent. The weight of her concern hung heavy in the air, and you hated it. You hated the shift in the atmosphere, the way her focus seemed entirely locked on you, unyielding. It was making you restless.

This just didn’t happen between you two. It couldn’t.

Your dynamic was never like this, and for a fleeting moment, you felt a spark of resentment at her sudden change.

You’d bantered, teased, and danced around each other almost two years now. You couldn’t allow her to start caring—not like this.

“But you don’t have to.” she shot back firmly, as if sensing your inner turmoil. “I just…we have an actual shot at winning now. Let’s just keep doing what we’ve been doing until now.”

You huffed, glancing around as if to find some excuse to shake this off. “Natasha, look around. We’re down to the final six. Any trick we pull won’t go unnoticed now.” You tried to sound exasperated, but there was a small tremor in your voice. “C’mon, it’s not like I’m going to sleep with him,” you added, trying to inject your usual teasing tone, but it came out with a shaken breath of desperation.

Desperate for her to return to normal. Desperate for her to stop caring so suddenly and openly. Desperate for things to go back to the way they were. You couldn’t stand this.

Your banter with Agent Romanoff was one of the few steady things in your life. It was entertaining yet distant, predictable yet invigorating—like a perfectly choreographed dance. It was something you relied on, something easy and familiar. Something you desperately needed.

“Don't say that just— I know that you can, but why do it just now? I…we—are going to find another way that doesn’t involve you seducing the pig.” She insisted. As if also, somehow, begging. You didn’t need to hear the words between the lines to understand. You could see it in her.

You both knew it. Not only that, but you were both trained for it—trained to wield your bodies like mere tools for any ends, stripped of your identities for however long it was necessary to get the job done. But the weight of that knowledge, the sheer detachment it demanded, always gnawed at your soul, voracious and unrelenting.

You two fought. She clearly disliked you. So why was she acting like she worried?

It wasn’t meant to be like this. You both weren’t meant to be like this. Frustration starts to build at her sudden change. How dare she take this away from the briefest of moments?

But this wasn’t Natasha, you realized as you dared to meet her gaze again. Her stormy sea-green eyes had shifted into something softer, something more vibrant—a glimmering jade.

No, this wasn’t Natasha Romanoff.

This was a rough sketch of Natalia Alianova Romanova.

A mystery you hadn’t unravelled.

For the first time since meeting her, you felt your blood drum faster, your chest tightening with a nervousness you hadn’t experienced in years. You had always known how to handle the ruthless, unflinching Agent Romanoff. But standing before Natalia?

You were at a loss.

And you were too weak to handle it.

Releasing an exasperated breath, you broke the now unbearable eye contact and drew in a steadying breath. This was going too far—you wouldn’t, couldn’t, let it. So, when you opened your eyes again, any trace of Y/N Y/L/N faded into the recesses of your mind, locked away and chained.

When you spoke to her again, it wasn’t you any more, not quite—it was Raven. Every grin, every flicker of movement, every perfectly placed mannerism was calculated, deliberate, practised.

You saw the realization hit her, the weight of it sinking like an anchor in the sea-green depths of Natasha’s irises. Her expression barely shifted, but you could feel it. The tension, the shift, the subtle acknowledgment that you had drawn a line between you both, a barrier she wasn’t meant to cross. But she did.

”Don’t worry, Agent. I’ll get us those passes.” You smirk, overconfident, but even you could feel the detachment in your own voice.

Slipping away, you managed to avoid her brief disappointment. Finally being able to just breathe normally, you shook your head.

Something between you and Natasha had shifted. You felt it in the erratic thrumming of your heart, like a bird desperate to escape its cage, and the faint tremble in your knees that betrayed your composure. You didn’t know how to handle it—weren’t even sure if you could.

At the table, your hands quivered, a crack in the carefully constructed mask you wore. With a subtle clench of your fists and a steadying breath, you forced the tremor away, slipping into the practised ease of a smile. Whatever had just passed between you and Natasha—it couldn’t matter.

Not now. Maybe not ever.

#nat x f!reader #fanfic #mcu #natasha romanoff #avengers #marvel series #natasha x fem reader #natasha romanoff x reader #vigilante reader #shield agent natasha #marvel

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bolddeducktionneverfails · 13 days ago

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☁☁☁☀️ New year, new art! 🌑☁☁☁

🌾🌾🌾🌻🌷🌼💕🌄💕🌼🌷🌻🌾🌾🌾

I was thinking about the eclipses in the season finales and thought it was...really strange that S3 didn't have one. 🤔 That finale took place in a very sunny environment and a sun was even placed on the floor of The Lost Library.

Both Sun and Moon are needed to make an eclipse and there seemed to be an interesting uptick in moon imagery throughout that season too; in spite of things like The Spear of Selene, the invasion and Penny's homesickness being settled. Whenever the Moon is in focus, or just Space in general, we're more likely to think of how closely Della is associated with these things. Both of the eclipses we saw in the show had something important to do with her: The first one preceded the discovery of her still being alive and the second one happened when she reunited with her brother.

Considering the reflective nature of the show, it would make a lot of sense for her to be involved, in some kind of way, if a third eclipse were to have happened. Could the other instances have been hinting towards the third one being a loose combination of the two? And if it involves another character, who could represent the Sun well enough to match up with Della's Moon connection? 😏

So, yeah, I wanted to draw something that resembled my thoughts on what could have been. I mainly drew inspiration from DT version of "The Kiss" painting Gladstone had in "Lamp".

I pretty much intended to recreate that but had trouble with the posing. 😓 I was also inspired by "Neverrest" and a couple of lyrics from "Ragnarok"s hero song. ✨

I had said that I wanted to add more effects to my work, and this piece certainly delivers that! I was gonna try a lens flare out too, but I was getting tired of working on this piece. 😂 The process for this one and the last one were dragging out too much... x_x

Heh, as I was putting this description together, I realized that my last post from last year had a sunset and my new post for the new year is a sunrise...I love that it. xD

Well, uh...time to work on next month's pieces. 🚶🏾‍♀️

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katyspersonal · 2 months ago

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*happy autistic noises*

Found a dump of some nice Dark Souls 2 close ups ( x ) on Japanese page! And they are in neutral lighting FINALLY!! Guys check the page it is great

Chloanne with really nice green eyes

Creighton is one of those characters who were modelled with the helmet on so no face, but his eyes are less blue than I thought! Greenish-grey, actually!

Benhart

Cale has Lady Maria's eye color, apparently xD

Okay I know close-up of Lucatiel is actually something widely seen since she is very loved, but let's look at her again fdsfsd God, I love how elaborate her eyelashes are. Pretty woman

McDuff

I like how Targray's eyes are SO blue when he is a Blue Sentinel.. like, yeah, man, we can tell fsdhfghdsfd

^^^ By Moonlight Ruin ( x ) Also modelled with helmet on, so no hairstyle

Milfanito that was trapped behind cell with Embedded has eyes open, and they're very purple

And the Milfanito found before Demon of the Song has cool red dots as her pupils! Damn iirc someone in DS1 fandom draws human Manus with eyes just like this? What a coincidence because I swear she is the only example of this in the trilogy, and it is sooooo well hidden!

I was 1000% sure Rosabeth had dark brown eyes, but turns out they're actually emerald? Well, actually black with specks of emerald in the middle! Super cool!

So I JUST found out that Carhillion normally has his eyes shut, because the first close view of him I saw was with eyes:

^^^ This image is by Moonlight Ruin on Xitter ( x ). But yeah, this particular page missed out on his eyes. They're blue!

This dataminer didn't include the version of Straid without the mask, so time for Moonlight Ruin's tweet ( x ) again:

These are really strange eyes xD But confirmation on short hair!

Petrus at home Licia

Felkin. Girl these are some big eyebrows

Also a few from actual Twitter from Moonlight Ruin ( x )

Vendrick

Bell Keeper

Navlaan (nobody needed to see it but have it anyways)

Pate. He is shaved.

Okay now back to that Japanese blogger from the start but with another two pages ( x ) ( x ) These pages reveal how all the NPCs like invaders and summons and so that use player data share the same exact 7 preset faces! @val-of-the-north made a post about it already ( x ) so honestly, neglect all these fuckers unless their face is legit visible! So here are just points of interest:

Pate's brown eyes

Magerold

Maughlin

Cromwell (yet another bald wife xd)

Drummond

Grandal

Melentia! Didn't think she also had unique face!

Okay I've hit 30 images per post limit so I'll post a few more images in a reblog, one second

#dark souls #dark souls 2 #dark souls references #screenshots #multi character post #as someone who legit has anneurism if I draw someone's eye color wrong or shit like that?#super happy

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xjulixred45x · 1 year ago

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Satoru Gojo/Suguru Geto x Idol! Reader

Gojo/Geto x S/o who is a Japanese idol/Singer.

Reader: female/male

Genre: Headcanons

Warnings: Gojo xd, some Canon divergent with Geto, mainly set in Star Plasma Vessel Arc, S/o has a ritual technique related to singing, the Idol industry is toxic ASF, fluff.

Main idea i have: You are a student at Jujutsu High, but you work part-time as an Idol (and you take advantage of the bad work environment to exorcise curses)

Satoru Gojo

Of the two, he is the most likely to know about your career as an idol.

When he sees you for the first time at Jujustu High, he looks at you strangely for a long time to try to remember where he knows you from (you look something different without all the production).

but when he finally realizes it, like the FREAK he is, he points it out shouting at Geto, killing him with shame, and you end up meeting your future significant other.

As you may have noticed, he is quite open about your career, probably using the excuse that it is because it is related to your cursed ritual, but the truth is he just wants to show you off xd.

Although of course, if you ask him to stop, he will. But when you see how tiring it can be to have to juggle two jobs at the same time, being a Sorcerer and an Idol nothing more.

If we talk about more advanced terms of relationship, Gojo probably has AT LEAST a small set of your merchandise, AND HE'S GOING TO SHOW IT OFF TO YOU, he just really likes to embarrass you (in an affectionate way).

I have the idea that Gojo couldn't sing even if his life depended on it, so it would be funny if you tried to teach him your technique (which requires SINGING the high notes) and he, wanting to imitate, only comes out with a sound similar to a drowned duck(?)

If you borrow his phone to search for something and look at the playlist, chances are you will find several of your own songs,even the Acapella versions (no instruments, just the voice), in a way it helps him relax a lot, especially when you go on different missions.

I can see him going to see you at one of your concerts, just to embarrass you a little, screaming and making a mess, at first glance he seems like an average Famboy, but he's YOUR average famboy 😅

If he doesn't go to your shows, at least try to cheer you up, either by going directly to your dressing room to lighten things up a bit, even though it ends up being the opposite.

Gojo: YOURE A BAD BITCH!

You:IM A BAD BITCH!

or leaving a voice message so you know you have his support :3 (although the first is more likely)

Moving on to more serious things, Gojo really worries that working in two stressful environments (one much more lethal than the other) will end up screwing up your mental health in the long term.

Even more so when he finds out how toxic the Idols' work environment is.

leaving aside the "debt" with your company (which is covered by those of the institution), the competitive environment, the haters who constantly harass you online (and in real life), the "fans" who rather are sick people who follow you everywhere--

He can't even be publicly physical with you or any kind of PDA! or say that you have a partner, because oh God knows how people would react to that.

It honestly makes him a little sad to see how you break your back to keep both jobs relatively stable, only to have your effort swept under the rug. it frustrates him.

Gojo isn't that worried about your physical appearance (although the outfits you wear to shows are very cute), but he won't let you starve yourself>:( If he eats something, get assured he'll make you eat too.

When he sees that you are having a particularly bad day, first of all he will try to make you feel better by making you laugh, if you refuse, then he will tickle you! or if you want to vent and let out work frustrations, go ahead.

lots 👏of 👏cuddling👏and👏hugs👏

He's just very clingy, and since he can't show much affection outside on the street and has to limit it to home and school, he makes the most of it.

He may or may not offer you some kind of more domestic date, like playing video games and intentionally letting you win, making comments that he knows will lift your spirits.

If we talk about the most current Gojo, it is most likely that you have already retired from the world of Idols, but you are still part of the training industry part-time (actress/actor or something similar).

and also by that time your relationship with Gojo would be more public (to his delight), of course, there was some commotion, but it is the least important when you live in a world with Curses.

aside, honestly, any Stalker/paparazzi you might have had before, he got screwed as soon as he was even on the same block as the two of you, Gojo is just intimidating when he wants to be, and he appreciates his time with you TOO much for someone to come and try to ruin it. (keyword, Try).

Get ready, now that Idol's job is not a problem (something like that), he's going to take the opportunity to have the most ABSURD amount of PDA you can imagine.

hugs, holding hands, you hang on to his arm, his arm around you, kisses, pet names, he has a whole arsenal.

He still really likes listening to you sing, but I especially imagine that he likes you singing to him to sleep, canonically this man doesn't sleep much, so having you sing to him would probably help him sleep much easier.

It's a good way to relax when he's had to deal with the big boys, just laying on your lap, eating something sweet while you sing him one of your songs. a strangely domestic moment.

He even takes off his blindfold to see you when you sing, it's kind of cute.

If you stroke his hair in the process, it's an absolute BONUS.

Even if you end up leaving the singing career completely, Gojo will always, ALWAYS find a way to show it off to his peers (everyone finds him EVEN more annoying than before thanks to this, Even his students, well, minus Itadori maybe).

Overall, find your Idol career endearing.

Suguru Geto

He's less likely to know about you as Idol than Gojo, but you seem familiar to him in a way.

It's not until 1- either Gojo tells him directly that you're an idol or 2- you go on television and he just sees you. both are equally likely (Gojo wouldn't say it right away just to annoy him for a change).

Be that as it may, at first he is much more interested in your Cursed technique related to singing than to your secondary career.

(note: this occurred to me because the musical note "Si" would literally translate into Japanese as "Shi" meaning "death", you could say that this may or may not be part of your cursed ritual, it's interesting).

It's similar to cursed speech, after all. So initially your friendship with him begins out of pure fascination and curiosity about your abilities.

Although of course, your other work does not go unnoticed, Geto honestly believes that it is something ingenious, because initially you would never think to find so much negative energy in a place like the Idol world(people seen as "pure and angelic"), and it turns out to be quite the opposite.

He found you fascinating in many ways, which only piqued his interest more.

Unlike Gojo, Geto is much more focused on your work as a Sorcerer than as an Idol, which doesn't mean he sees it as a bad thing! Not at all, it's just that it can connect with you better with the first more than the second.

Although yes, he also really likes to listen to you sing (without a cursed ritual or not, it doesn't matter, he thinks you sound very good either way). He feels especially proud when you sing him a future song alone.

He just stands there watching you sing and smiles like a fool. It's therapeutic.

Even if he's not as hyped about your work as Gojo, I can definitely see him giving you a lot of compliments when you wear the outfits they give you for the shows, they're so CUTE! And they make you look even more adorable!

He also cares a lot about your health! He always makes sure to have throat medicine nearby (whether outside or on missions) in case of emergencies. Apart from the fact that he wants you to have a healthier weight (by the beauty standards of the Idols, it is quite difficult).

He feels worried when he sees you worried about losing your supposed "extra weight" when the only thing he sees are your ribs☠️

Geto:"lets get you a Burger"

You:"i can't eat tha-"

Geto:"LETS GET YOU A BURGER, I CAN SEE YOUR BONES"

He can, wants and will take you to eat junk food after each mission, and when I say each one, IT'S EVERY ONE. He simply doesn't want you to end up hospitalized for anorexia or worse, faint in the middle of a mission due to lack of nutrients, the possibility scares him a lot.

Aside from the fact that he won't let you feel bad for being a healthy weight, and he won't tolerate anyone saying anything bad about it (unless they wants to see the rainbow dragon, but not in the friendly way).

He was already pretty aware that the idol environment is pretty bad, but hearing it (and in some cases, seeing the consequences) from you directly is a whole new level.

The slave-like schedules, the impossible standards, the "diets" that practically boil down to not eating, the strange people you run into on a daily basis, it honestly surprises him that you can stay like a Sorcerer with how little you eat and sleep.

At least he doesn't have to worry about money, although I still highly doubt he'll let you buy him things at first, he prefers that you give YOURSELF some self-care

Although he is calm knowing that you can handle yourself well, he definitely can't help but get a little angry when he sees your name on some gossip page or something like that.

Unlike Gojo, I think he will directly ask you to leave the Idol job, but with good arguments, and obviously understand if you don't want to leave, after all doing this kind of thing takes YEARS of preparation, it makes sense that you want to continue with the work as much as you can.

especially if you like it.

but he will definitely be more aware of your situation and in general more present in these types of things and not only those related to Jujustu.

You two become a more stable couple, so to speak.

Going forward to the present day, regardless of whether Geto remains in Jujutsu High or turns evil like in canon, the two remain close.

Mimiko and Nanako ABSOLUTELY admire your old work as an idol a lot, like, a lot, especially Nanako. which is quite cute to see, since you give them the same hairstyles that you used to wear in your youth or even singing your old lyrics to them, Geto could die of cuteness right there.

Listening to you sing when he's had a day full of dealing with "monkeys" is the perfect way to end the day sincerely, even if it's just a hum, it practically puts him in a good mood right away.

Unlike Gojo, I think he would also like you to sing as a form of entertainment (if you feel comfortable), like having background noise while he does things, according to the "work better that way." He says, but only wants You to sing SPECIALLY for him.

The family LIVES to hear you sing too, if you are with them while they wait for Geto, Mimiko will probably ask you with puppy eyes to sing them something to kill time. works 9.5/10 of the time.

Like waiting music.

If you're still in the entertainment industry, you two probably take advantage of money from whatever association hires you >:).

IMAGINE HIM COMING TO SEE YOU WITH THE FAMILY IN SOME VIP SESSION! The girls are taking a lot of photos or recording videos (I imagined them doing the Oshi no Ko dance 🤣😅) and simply admiring how the monkeys are idiots and you are unattainable to them

In this case, I don't think it's necessary to say what happens with the paparazzi or stalkers you used to have >:)

if we talk about Teacher! Geto is not very different from Gojo in several aspects, perhaps just a little more insistent on the issue of choosing only ONE job.

I think if you chose to stay as a singer and leave Jujustu's world, he would be VERY relieved in a way, at least he would never have to worry about him losing you to curses, and you know how to defend yourself very well, so the chances of you something bad happens as a singer are low to none.

In short, he will let you do what makes you happy as long as it is healthy and you are in control. He loves you too much to care about your work.

See your career more as an accessory, in a good way, you will always be more interesting ;)

Shares, reblogs, and comments are very welcome!

___________________________

Ahhhhh ONE DONE!

I have two Request in waiting, but first i Will try to Write one o two other scenerios that i want to make. Have patience with me :')

I hope You like it!

#headcanons #fem reader #male reader #jjk #idol #jjk gojo #jjk geto #jujutsu kaisen geto #jujutsu no kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader

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