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Finders Keepers
Summary: in which alien!reader crash lands right in front of Gojo and your story with him begins Word Count: 1k (just trialing a new concept so it's a quick opening) Warnings: a little cursing, allusions to experimentation and alien warfare, reader is naked but not in a sexual manner
“I can’t believe aliens actually exist,” Satoru mutters to himself.
This has been an incredibly wild evening.
When he stepped out of his apartment to throw the bins out, he hadn’t expected to see a blinding flash of light zoom past him and explode in the parking lot. Thank goodness for his infinity, otherwise he would not have fared as well as the minivan you landed on.
Yes.
You.
The woman who came straight from the sky and fell on top of a car, missing him by just two metres.
At first, he thought it was a curse; these things get pretty weird sometimes, after all. But using his Six Eyes, he could tell you were different. Sure, you looked like any other person, with arms and legs and a head. But you had a unique aura to you, positively otherworldly.
If he was any other kind of man, he would have just left you there and pretended nothing happened — ignorance is bliss and whatnot — but what kind of Honoured One would he be if he didn’t do his duty and helped you out?
So, he slides down the massive crater you made (boy is that going to be a pain for maintenance to clean up) and carefully cradles your naked body in his arms, carefully so as to not touch bits and pieces no gentleman has a business looking at. Why are you naked anyways?
Sensing people making their way down the stairs to inspect the commotion, he teleports back into his apartment quick as a flash before anyone could think to look through their windows.
He throws a blanket at you and leaves you on the sofa as he paces the length of his living room and ponders what to do. On one hand, he could call the police and leave it up to them to deal with you. The government would know best about how to deal about falling space women, right? But then, don’t all the sci-fi movies talk about inhumane experimentation, weaponizing alien technology, and Area 51?
That wouldn’t be a very nice thing to do, at all.
And on the other hand, he could just take care of you himself. He has the means to, that’s for sure. You really don’t look any different from everyone else — surely, you need the same things he does: food, water, shelter and warmth.
Right?
Just as he’s about to pick up the phone to call his doctor friend, you begin rousing from sleep. Your eyes flutter open and they’re a normal colour, which freaks him out more if he’s going to be perfectly honest.
“Uh,” Satoru scratches the back of his neck, shuffling on his feet a little, “hey? I’m Gojo Satoru. You can just call me Satoru, though. If you want, or can, I guess.”
You tilt your head, scanning his body, and you open your mouth. What comes out is definitely an alien language. Or maybe he needs to travel more. But he certainly does not comprehend a single thing that you say.
Clearing his throat, he tries to smile comfortingly. “Okay, so I didn’t understand what you said. Sorry. But uh, do you need anything? Like, do you know where you are? Yeah, you definitely don’t know what I’m saying either, do you?”
You tilt your head again.
“What is wrong with me? Seriously. What was I thinking bringing you home? You may have fallen from the sky but I’m the one that clearly hit my head. I really am an idiot.”
Glancing around the room, you don’t look any bit as frazzled and panicked as he is. Actually, you’re as cool as a cucumber, and there isn’t a hint of shame or embarrassment on your face when you push yourself off the sofa, blanket sliding down your body.
“Woah! Woah!”
Satoru presses his hands to his eyes and leaves them there for a second or two before realising that does absolutely nothing and when he pulls them down, he doesn’t flinch when you’re standing before him, inquisitive eyes meeting his.
His infinity is on and he’s ready to subdue you if you prove to be a threat, but so far, he’s simply letting you reorient yourself, getting used to your surroundings and giving you the opportunity to decide he’s not a bad guy.
That being said, however, he’s still deciding whether to keep you or not. He doesn’t want you to be poked and prodded — that wouldn’t be a very cool welcome to planet Earth and he doesn’t need you to go around telling your alien friends humans suck, though they do. But he also doesn’t know if that’s the best decision.
You could be a danger to jujitsu society, to his students, to the world. What if, right at this very moment, you’re leaking deadly radiation? And what if his infinity can’t keep it out? Can’t keep you out?
Gosh, there are so many things that could go wrong.
It’s entirely possible too that you’re a blood sucking monster intent on wringing him dry for all he’s worth. Maybe you’re not even an alien. Maybe you’re a special kind of curse, the kind that can bypass his Six Eyes, though he’s fairly confident that’s not the case (there’s no one stronger than him, after all).
What if this is Kenjaku all over again?
Yeah, on second thought, he should definitely call the police. Or Ijichi, or the Prime Minister of Japan, or whoever will believe him when he says there’s a naked, alien lady in his home, and no, he’s not a pervert playing out some sick fantasy.
But just as he’s lifting his phone, you lift your hand the same time he does and cover your eyes.
Then you say his name in perfect Japanese with a sweet, soft voice, not a hint of hesitation or unsteadiness. You smile, eyes still obscured, and he feels himself mirroring your gleeful expression.
“That’s right. I’m Satoru. It’s nice to meet you.”
He decides, there and then, to hell with radiation, alien armies, and the deadly risk you pose to everything he knows or cares about. The military, conspiracy theorists, and scientists be damned.
He’s going to keep you.
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this is prob silly but i appreciate you being so candid about not interacting with much media (like film/tv/pop culture stuff). it's kind of hard to be on tumblr or really even exist if you're not able to interact with media but it's a big trigger for me so i just... can't. like, i've never had anyone understand that it's not a choice i'm making to be special/different/lazy i just have extreme and unhealthly reactions to most media, except some books and comics. which idk if that's how it is for you (its not my business or anything) but i've never felt seen/represented about it before so im thankful, yk?
i appreciate you for sending this! i don't find it silly at all
i think it's very good for you to acknowledge that you have an unhealthy relationship with most forms of media. i'm sorry that you're going through this, but consuming media is not a requirement nor is it something that you genuinely need for your mental health, so it's okay that that's how you feel. i appreciate this because it gives me a chance to talk about something that is important to me, but people struggle to understand why that is
my parents used to make fun of whatever i was watching or playing as a kid over my shoulder. i used to get relentlessly mocked every time i put on a show i liked or played a game in front of either of them. it caused me to have severe trauma for years where i couldn't watch or play anything around other people at all. i still don't like when people ask me to put on things that i do like for a big group. the stress i feel when other people don't enjoy it is not worth it. i'm still very uncomfortable doing this to this day
i've felt pretty alienated all my life due to this. it seems like now more than ever, media, especially fictional media, is so important to general modern culture that it creates a barrier between people who do and don't engage. and it's not like it's a passive thing, i have people get offended at me when i say i haven't seen a movie or TV show. not talking about anyone on here, or any anons i've answered about media! people have been kind and respectful here. but in my real life and in conversations with other people, i have genuinely been mocked or insulted because i don't engage with most television, movies, books and comics.
i've had people question my autism over this. when i've told people in the past that i do not engage with pop culture, fictional media and so on, i've had people actually say "but i thought you were autistic????" like it's genuinely frustrating that it seems like people have shifted to thinking that autistic people's special interests are always cartoons, games and TV shows. it worries me because at times it feels like people are turning the common definition of autism into Media Consumption Disorder. my special interests are queer history & culture, animals & nature, and medicine & psychology. i genuinely enjoy research, it's something i happily do for hours because it stimulates my brain and motivates me. it excites me just as much as i think fiction excites people who can enjoy it. it's more than okay for autistic people to have a piece of media as their special interest, i'm not saying that its not! but it frightens me that people seem to conflate "autistic" with "loves fictional media".
due to my DID, i can't remember plots. like at all. plots confuse the ever loving hell out of me because i can't keep track of what's going on. real life doesn't have a plot. science doesn't have a plot. i don't know if fully understand the point of a plot, honestly. expecting people to be able to remember such an absurd amount of information in order to figure out something that happens down the road or at the very end feels like a herculean task to me. i can't remember what happened to me 10 minutes ago, there's no way i'm remembering a tiny event that happened hours and hours and hours ago. scripted interactions feel so stiff and unnatural to me
people tell me i'm saying i don't know what they're talking about to "be an asshole". i used to have a best friend who got really into dungeons&dragons and it traumatized me for years because i got into at first, then quickly lost interest once i realized how boring actually playing the game is for me. my friend did NOT take it well. he continued to force me to play. if i would ask him to please change the conversation topic he would start insulting and berating me and telling me that i was pretending to not be interested anymore to be mean to him. he couldn't understand that i grew out of it. he never got any better with this, as he was obsessed with marvel films and would get super pissed off if i told him i had no interest or didn't know what to say to him. it was frustrating because i didn't have a choice whether or not i could like something. it was "if you don't like this, you're an asshole."
and it's not just him that's treated me that way. it's been most of my friends. for whatever reason, when you tell the average person that you haven't seen, or god forbid don't like a piece of media, they take it personally for... some reason. as if i said "no i don't watch that because that's bad" as opposed to what i actually say is "i don't know what that is" or "i haven't seen that". you would not believe how insecure people get when you tell them you don't like a piece of media they like. i'm not sure why people feel like their favorite media is an extension of themselves, but it's an unhealthy relationship. it's not healthy to get offended if your friend tells you they haven't seen a piece of media that you have.
i have aphantasia, which is the inability to picture things in my head. i don't get "sucked into" media like people with clearer mind's eyes do. i don't picture anything cool or epic or fun happening in my head because i can't. as a result, i don't get pulled into shows, i don't get invested in tabletop games, i don't really get that affected by the media that i watch because i am painfully aware that i'm staring at a pre-recorded and scripted show the entire time. i'm painfully aware that i'm staring at an actor in a costume i just cannot get immersed in most forms of media save for very rare video games but even then, i immediately stop thinking about it the second i'm done interacting with it
i just don't listen to music and that one baffles people as i'm punk. most music is just straight up overstimulating to me due to my autism. i'm not saying that music is bad, it just overstimulates the everloving hell out of me. most of the time it just hurts my ears or gives me a headache or triggers my misophonia, which results in me getting irrationally pissed off. it's not something i can control. i prefer to listen to nature sounds, very simple meditation music that is a few simple tones, or nothing at all. i actually enjoy silence. i enjoy not overloading my ears. i enjoy being alone with my own thoughts. i can't think when there's too much noise happening
video games are more enjoyable than anything else due to the interactive element, but that does not mean i am paying attention to the characters or the story. it's very rare that a game can actually make me get interested in the characters themselves. i'm just there for the gameplay. generally i prefer games like rollercoaster tycoon, tower unite and other games that don't have a plot at all and are strictly focused on gameplay. i have no idea how people memorize all the different characters and interactions and story beats in games that have an overarching plot.
it's a personal choice. you're allowed to choose what your hobbies and interests are. if pop culture stresses you out, you do not have to engage. i just straight up do not get pop culture references at all and i've had people laugh at me for it but i just really don't care, it's not what i'm interested in as a person. i feel like a lot of people aren't quite realizing that most popular media is made for profit, not to be something genuinely well written or entertaining. i'm not saying those things are bad but what i am saying is that it's a product meant to be consumed in order for you to help a generally huge company profit. there's very little soul and whimsy when it comes to most AAA games and big box office films. the artistic integrity is severely lacking
anyway, thank you for giving me a chance to talk about this more at length! it's why i'm just very honest about it because i'm not going to force myself to change my interests because some people find how i approach life strange, or take it personally. you're allowed to choose what you interact with and don't. you're allowed to define your own interests and hobbies. and i think you're doing a great thing by acknowledging that you have an unhealthy relationship with pop culture. a LOT of people do right now. it's manufactured to be addicting on purpose. binge watching things is encouraged and is becoming seen as a new norm. i don't think people like you or i deserve to be mocked for approaching life in ways that make sense to us. take care of yourself, i appreciate you!
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Donald O'Connor (Singin' in the Rain, Francis, Call Me Madam)— LOOK AT HIM. Those giant blue peepers. Those tappy tappy little feet that don't quit. The ears that stick out like little wings, ready to lift him up to goofy heaven. The way his face contorts into the strangest yet most endearing expressions. His ability to sing and dance alongside the hunk that is Gene Kelly and yet pull all attention away with his big-eyed buffoonery. The way his energy is unmatched in songs like "Make 'em laugh" - bouncing off the walls and tumbling through the air straight into my cold cold heart. Who else but a true scrungly lil guy would sit upon the witness stand and defend a talking mule with all the love and affection in the world - staring out into the court room with his bright wide eyes and eternally mouse-like expression, openly admitting that the mule is his best friend?!??! I see him and I want to pull him from the screen into my hand and just squiiiiiiiiiiiiish with all my might. I want to pinch his cheeks and have him bat those eyes at me. He just makes me go "eeehehehehehe" every time I see him and his silly little self. He is pure chaotic, ridiculous, scrungly perfection!
Mantan Moreland (Mr. Washington Goes to Town, Cabin in the Sky)—i love mantan moreland SO. MUCH. and he is the pERFECT scrungly little guy!!!!! like a lot of black actors at the time he was always getting sidelined into small parts, but unusually he also managed to become a star in his own right and was almost one of the three stooges! he was a groundbreaking comedic actor known for his distinctive stare (very good for the horror movies he did), and he always is way more fun to watch on screen than anyone else. he had a famous double-act where he perfected this technique of non-conversations (where both people keep finishing each other's sentences before any actual information is conveyed). a lot of his movies are free on youtube and i really enjoy seeing him do his silly little guy thing in all of them!!! anyways yeah please include mantan he deserves some recognition as peak scrungle
This is round 3 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you’re confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.
[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]
Donald O'Connor:
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My silliest little guy. My funnyman. My horsie. I have watched many a bad movie for this man. The scrungliest fact I know about him is that he was supposed to star as Danny Kaye's role in the iconic White Christmas (1954), as he had known Bing Crosby since he was a child, but couldn't because he caught a mule disease while working on those Francis the Talking Mule films Universal endlessly made him do. I wouldn't exactly recommend those movies, but Don's character getting psychologically tormented by a sardonic mule does make for quite a good movie night, if you know what you're getting into. Are You With It? is another one I don't exactly recommend, but it does open with Donald as a math genius actuary who is about to kill himself over a displaced decimal point before getting taken in by a traveling carny instead. His more well-known and beloved roles have plenty of scrungliness too, in my opinion. This man slapsticked so hard he wound up bedridden for his physical exertion! Rather than submitting Make 'Em Laugh, which the electorate has likely already seen (I hope), I'm submitting an underrated dance number of his, where he explains maths through tap dance. That movie is Not good, but god do I love him in that role.
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I think it's arguably very scrungly to seemingly be a real life cartoon character made out of rubber, as proven by how slapsticky the list of scrunglies is so far. In which case, Donald O'Connor? He scrungles supremely. He even played Buster Keaton in a movie (that apparently can't be recommended, but still).
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Mantan Moreland:
here's his double act in action!! [editor's note: Benson Fong cameo too!]
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He just had a scrungly look about him and he played big with his roles so any of it became especially scrungly. Plus he was very funny in the way only scrungly people can be.
the FUNNEST GUY TO WATCH ON SCREEN. he was an immensely gifted physical comedian, able to convey loads with his eyes, and while some of his parts are so sad and cringeworthy, I feel like he always brought a humanity and humor that lifted them beyond cheap stereotype.
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sodapop patrick curtis thoughts on my desk by the end of the week or ur DONE /j
How I feel about this character
Uh like he’s perfect and should be my wife i think
Nah but fr Soda’s one of my favorite characters ever. He’s sweet and all, but he’s so much more than that. Pony says he’s movie-star handsome, that he can go from gentle one minute to “blazing with anger” the next, that he gets drunk just on living, and understands everybody. Soda’s a Kerouac-style “mad one”- “mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes Awww!”
He’s a guy who’s sensitive but strong, a “bawl baby” who’s tough, he’s probably got ADHD and dyslexia, the school system failed him. His folks died and left him holding his brothers together by a thread. He’s pretty but not pretty enough for Sandy to stay. He might end up dying in Vietnam, and thank God that isn’t canon, but it’s still there. He’s happy to live life simply, behind a white picket fence with a wife and kids- hell, he’s thrilled to. But that’s not gonna happen, at least not for a while, because Soda is a tragedy. But he loves his brothers and his friends so much that he becomes a beacon of hope despite it all.
I love Soda. Honestly, this barely scratches the surface of how I feel about him. I haven’t even touched on the adrenaline junkie stuff or the ways he’s sometimes so relatable to me that it hurts.
All the people I ship romantically with this character
Steve, and sometimes Evie.
I’ve found I’m a friends-to-lovers enjoyer, so Stevepop scratches that part of my brain lol. To have someone who’s got your back through thick and thin, aware of your flaws but in spite of them- well, ain’t that the dream? The angst of it being the 60s makes it interesting to me too, because there’s a lot of ways to handle that. Man, when I first read the book I didn’t get the hype for them at all, but idk. It clicked. I get it now.
And then Steviepop is my roman empire lol. It’s all I love about Stevepop, but Evie adds even more complexity. I like her a lot and I love writing her, and I love writing her with characters who I also love. There is absolutely no canon anything to back this ship up. But dammit that’s the point of fandom.
I will say though that I like exploring Soda’s dynamic with Sandy, but I don’t really ship them. I think the fact that Sandy left him (and I mean cheated on him, even if that can be read ambiguously) implies that there’s something about him that could be undesirable, romantically. I don’t mean cheating is good or that people deserve it, just that in this case, the idea that Soda’s an imperfect boyfriend adds layers to a character who is mostly just positives. We’ll never know Sandy’s POV on it, and I don’t think Soda will either. Sandypop to me will never have closure. That’s what makes it hurt so much. That’s what makes it relatable
My non-romantic OTP for this character
I mean honestly? Steve. I know this isn’t really fair, since I like Stevepop and all, but idk, there’s no one else who I think it could be.
Steve’s a character who’s cocky and troubled and prone to assholeish-ness, but even he loves Soda. He knows about Sandy and gets angry on Soda’s behalf at Pony for mentioning her, which means Soda can tell him- angry, tough Steve Randle- about sensitive stuff. And Soda, who I think is a little in love with everyone he meets and could have anyone he wants, sees this bastard and sticks with him. He sees the parts of Steve that Pony can’t. Parts that make him worthy of being his best buddy.
It’s been said before, but no matter how you look at it, romantic or platonic, they’re each other’s person. I don’t think I could put anyone else in this slot.
My unpopular opinion about this character
I have a few lol.
1- I see a lotta fics and takes where the whole “drunk on living” thing is a lie Soda feeds Ponyboy, and while I like that take, I do also think it’s totally possible and even plausible that Soda really doesn’t drink and Pony’s view of him (in that aspect) is right.
I dunno, I mean, I know firsthand what it’s like to just get drunk on adrenaline/excitement. Adrenaline is a hell of a drug, and the rush from it is better than any other high I’ve had. Thrill rides make me act as stupid as someone drinking- when I’m excited, I lose all ability to filter thoughts or fight impulses. I’ve done all sorts of dumb moves- climbing onto tables, singing loudly without knowing or caring if it bothers people, play-fighting my buddies so hard we both get genuinely injured, standing up in a convertible going down the freeway... (This is obviously anecdotal and not real evidence or anything, but like, duh. This is an opinion piece lol.)
I guess what I’m saying is that there’s a lot of interesting things that can still be done with a Soda who genuinely doesn’t drink. (Or at least not much.)
2- I love darker takes on Soda. I love when people dig into his addictive personality, his temper, his relationship with his looks/self image, all that stuff. I love his flaws, and I especially love when they co-exist with his earnest sweetness and genuine sensitivity. In a few of my fics, I’ve explored some slightly darker Sodas- Sodas who are impulsive, pent up, semi-narcissistic and occasionally manipulative. I haven’t delved deep into it or anything, and I usually keep his character wholesome, but I love it when other folks don’t.
3- I actually really like the Vietnam War storyline. I mean it hurts, but it seems plausible. I hate the idea of him dying there, but I like exploring the idea of him being drafted. Hell, maybe he even enlisted. The military is known for being a good way to earn enough money to pull one’s family out of poverty, and this paired with the flawed ideas of masculinity and strength of the time lead to a really interesting version of Soda’s future.
I’m real glad it isn’t canon though.
4- This isn’t technically unpopular but brown eyed Soda will always be canon to me. I like Rob Lowe’s Soda a lot but man….he coulda used brown contacts, yk? /hj lol
One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.
Well I still think it’s a crime his emotional monologue got cut outta the original version of the film. Thank God for the full novel version, but man, still.
Woulda also have been cool to see him mentioned in That Was Then This is Now, but I get that SE Hinton wasn’t trying to make an Outsiders sequel really.
Idk, Soda served his purpose, I think.
tl;dr- I love him
#sodapop curtis#the outsiders sodapop#soda curtis#the outsiders#the outsiders 1983#stevepop#rambling#ask game#ask#sodapop curtis my beloved#i actually initially wanted to dislike Soda when I first read the book cos his description annoyed me#(i was newly 15 and was jealous of all boys prettier than me which is /ridiculous/ to admit but whatever)#…but i couldn’t dislike him even when I tried. he’s just so…/good/. idk soda’s such a great character#maybe not the most plot-important but he makes the book so much better just by existing. it wouldn’t be as good without him.#ALSO sorry this took a minute to reply to anon! I love Soda and I had to do him justice yk?#long post
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MY PROBLEMS WITH THE LEGEND OF ZELDA MOVIE
Okay, hi.
I have a LOT of reasons this movie should never in a million years happen, but my family is getting sick of hearing them, so I'm here to share them with you because I'm very frustrated with some school things right now and I need to channel my anger into something that matters.
First is that it's going to be live-action.
This was a terrible choice on their part because no matter who they cast as Link and Zelda, they aren't going to be good enough for the role. And no, I don't mean as in acting skill, I mean in terms of appearance. They're just not going to be able to capture it.
Second of all, casting.
Casting for this movie will be tricky for multiple reasons. Like I said previously, whoever they choose to cast won't be able to capture the physical essence of the characters. Not only that, but they can't cast a super famous guy (ESPECIALLY not Tom Holland) because Link is always supposed to be a little nobody twink who shows up with a 'i have no idea what I'm doing but I'm doing it anyway' mentality, not some hotshot guy everyone knows.
Third, twink-y-ness.
As we all know, Link is twinkier than a Twinkie, and if they fail to capture that, what is even the point. We need to see Link in at least one slutty outfit with a stupid hairstyle or else that isn't Link, that's just Chad.
Fourth, the target audience.
The target audience is probably my main concern with this movie, if I'm honest. Based on recent media, I've seen many things get taken over by 10 year old humor, Jack Black (no hate on him, but I think ykwim), and bad graphics. That's where I get concerned.
A good majority of the people who love the Legend of Zelda like I do are older than the age of 10 and don't want this movie to be overly goofy or 'watered down'. Like I said before, the Legend of Zelda games are whimsical, but also very dark at times. That's what makes them perfect; there's a balance.
Fifth, Link himself.
If you didn't know, Link doesn't usually talk or have a super distinguishable personality because the creators designed him with the audience in mind. You're supposed to be able to imagine Link in any way, even as yourself.
Now, that's not to say he can't have a personality. I'm just saying that whatever personality they give him will not work.
Not only that, but I just know they're going to make him talk. I know it. Now, i know some people are probably like 'wEll, DrAgON, How aRe theY suPPOsEd to MaKe him INterEstIng If HE doEsN'T TAlK?', to which I pat them on the head and remind them of the incredibly successful movie 'The Quiet Place' where all of the characters were silent and used sign language. In this movie's case, ONLY LINK would be silent, making it even EASIER for them.
Sixth, is Hyrule.
Now, I don't have too many concerns about Hyrule itself since it's pretty easy to make a movie pretty in terms of the landscape, but if it looks anything remotely similar to the Minecraft movie trailer, I will not watch it.
Seventh is the Villain.
My main concern with whichever villain they choose (most likely Ganon, but I think it'd be interesting to use a different villain like Vaati or the Demise), only because I don't want them to act like Bowser did in the Mario movie. Don't get me wrong, I think that worked for Bowser. But for Ganon? No. And I swear to you, if the villain or ANYONE is played by Jack Black, I will have an actual meltdown. (Love you Jack Black, but please no)
Eighth is the music.
As we all know (or at least you should), the Legend of Zelda has some of the most beautiful music ever. The Song of Storms, Zelda's Lullaby, Ballad of the Wind Fish, these are all great songs. If they screw this up, I will hate it.
And finally, number Nine: the essence and vibe of the movie.
This is my other main concern. Can I explain to you why I love the Legend of Zelda so Much? No, I can't. All I can tell you is that the 'feel' of it is what I love. If they fail to capture the whimsy and the wholesomeness but also the underlayer of darkness that the games possess, this movie will bomb.
Let me give you a few examples of other medias that failed to capture their source material:
Star Wars (The Force Awakens, The Last Jedi, The Rise of Skywalker). All three of those movies sucked imo because they didn't feel like a Star Wars movie, they felt like a Star Wars fanfiction. This isn't any of the cast's fault, either. They did good for what they were given. But the movie itself (expecially the character changes in Luke) lacked that feeling the other Star Wars movies hold.
Star Trek Discovery and Picard. Both of these shows are objectively the worst Star Trek series. And, it's for the same exact reasons as those Star Wars movies. THE PEOPLE MAKING THEM AREN'T FANS OF THE FRANCHISE!!! They don't understand them, they don't understand why people LIKE them. But if you look at their newest show, Strange New Worlds, it's doing spectacularly. Why? BECAUSE THE NEW WRITERS ARE FANS OF THE SHOW. THEY GET IT.
If you couldn't tell, I'm very passionate about this one.
In conclusion, you can tell that my hopes for this movie are incredibly, painfully low. Can you blame me, though? This is my favorite thing in the world, an I'd love to have a movie about it. But in recent times, movies and shows based off of already beloved things have not been doing well because they don't capture the feeling of them. The people put in charge of these movies most likely haven't played a single Legend of Zelda game in their lives, so they don't get it and they aren't going to be able to capture our souls like the games do.
Thank you for listening to my messy rant.
#legend of zelda#loz botw#botw#breath of the wild#loz#the legend of zelda#tloz#tloz botw#tears of the kingdom#i hate this#rant post#rant#angry rant#zelda#ocarina of time#majoras mask#links awakening#skyward sword
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I don’t usually make posts like this, but I’ve been seeing a lot of anti-intellectual junk lately, and I really think we need to put the word “pretentious” up on a shelf until people learn what it actually means.
It doesn’t describe someone who likes artsy-fartsy deep meaning media. People who are pretentious are fake. They’re posers trying to be sophisticated and unique, not like other girls. They pretend to only like stuff they think will make them sound cool when they talk about it. They want to act like they know something you don’t, and they want attention for it.
By definition, if you genuinely enjoy something, you can’t be pretentious. If it resonates with you, and you analyze it, and you don’t care what people think, that’s the polar opposite, actually. If you love obscure experimental prog music, if you watch underground high concept indie films through English teacher eyes, if you spend hours in a modern art museum reading each piece as a vessel for storytelling, if your backpack’s full of poetry books that inspire you, if you play underrated games that were someone’s passion project, if you have an interest in studying the classics or the masters, you are not pretentious.
Of course, some people just don’t like some stuff, and that’s fine, but that’s not what this is about. Don’t let anti-intellectuals shame you for enjoying things just because your interests are inaccessible to them, because they refuse to be brave and put effort into critical thinking. You’re not stuck up for refusing to overlook the craft of artists.
#anti intellectualism#media#movies#books#music#critical thinking#my friend who primarily listens to one very popular band once said that people who listen to obscure music are annoying and pretentious#which rubbed me the wrong way because 1 she knows that I listen to obscure music and 2 it’s such a cowardly consumerist take. anyone can#make music and hey a lot of the people who do make GOOD music. and this goes for all *obscure* media#this post was mostly inspired by people talking about Barbie and those anti pick me girls like the pick nobody girls who insist thinking is#for boys and having fun with an empty brain is for girls. Greta gerwig is an artist. I haven’t seen the movie yet but I know it has a deeper#message than haha cute pink! I’ve seen the summaries about the true meaning. the pinkness and popularity doesn’t negate the narritive.#though in the notes I saw a lot of tumblristas comunistas shitting on the film for being one big ad that people *fell for* which tbh is#tbh almost as anti-intellectual. don’t get me wrong they milked this film to sell hella shit but I don’t believe kids who play with dolls#are the target audience as these people claim. Barbie is a culturally iconic symbol almost archetypical of societal expectations for women#you say barbie people think unblinking perfect plastic pink girly. reminds me of the poem The Last Mojave Indian Barbie. yeah yeah you all#hate brands but this one carries undeniable significance and makes for a powerful literary device. it’s been used many times before#sorry for writing a tag essay about a film I haven’t even seen but I’m tired of internet people focusing so much on proving others wrong#that they end up oversimplifying everything just as much as the other person. god I saw people doing this to Nimona saying transphobes were#looking too deep into her character and they’re reactionary clowns for making that jump. like for once the transphobes are right. she is#trans. it’s a queer story. and irl the first people who notice queerness are the bigots who can tell you’re different. sick owns telling#them the story’s not that deep is harmful and it’s like they’re ignoring the real message on purpose. okay enough rambling hehe! thanks#barbie#nimona
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People who are censoring Emma Corrin at the Nosferatu premieres are the worst!
I’m not going to comment this on the Instagram post I’m referring to, because I’m not going to instigate anything hostile on that platform specifically because it’s not worth it, but to whoever you are, you’re so frustrating.
For anyone confused, here is what Emma wore to the Nosferatu premiere in London a few nights ago. A gorgeous Victorian-nightgown esque dress that compliments the one they’re seen wearing in the trailer. (Also their makeup was chefs kiss, 10/10, no notes.)
Today I was just checking my Instagram, and I came across an account that decided it was up to them to dictate how this wonderful actor was perceived on the red carpet…for a film they play an important role in…
First of all, what on earth is this? In the world we live in, in the situation the western political scale is falling right now, do you seriously deem it appropriate for you to pick and choose how this person is allowed to be perceived on a red carpet event for a movie they worked hard on??
Do you seriously think it’s appropriate for you to censor someone’s body, which is their form of expression and statement, because of a personal, borderline outdated, opinion? If Emma’s style choice is not to your taste (which is a bigoted take anyway because a quick scroll will show you the shirtless Bill photos on this account, so wonderful, you’re just ignorant), then…crop Emma out if that’s something you don’t want on your blog? Like I’m sorry there is absolutely no need for this. It’s so, so, so disrespectful.
I completely understand that this account belongs to a person, and they are within their right to decide what they do or don’t want on their blog (even if I disagree), HOWEVER, there are ways to do it without being deemed oppressive, condescending and bigoted. Cropping Emma out removes them from the focal point, again something I don’t agree with, but it doesn’t shove negative attention onto their choices either. Highlighting it with an ugly photoshop is not only rude, but actually insulting, and seems as though you’re purposefully forcing Emma’s look into the spotlight.
Let’s zoom in on that comment a little more, as well.
‘With a little help from me to Emma Corrin’ a condescending insinuation that you think they need your help, in need of your assistance, which immediately puts them below you. When, if I recall correctly, this is Emma’s livelihood and daily job. They seem to be quite well versed in how to rock a red carpet.
‘Just disrespectful 😒’ - how so, to who and to what? Just say you feed into the over sexualisation of breasts and go. Be honest about your bigoted view, don’t sugarcoat it with the essence that you’re ’doing them a favour’. Nobody else at the premiere seemed bothered, everyone was happy and taking photos and there wasn’t a hint of awkwardness to pick up on.
The second photo was at the Berlin premiere, but shows equally, if not more, nipple. (Which weirdly the poster I’m referring to had no issue with that outfit, but the London one? 🤔
Oh and also? Don’t put Emma’s name in the hashtags if you’re so damn scandalised by their attire.
And before anyone comes for me with ‘you’re overreacting’ or ‘it’s not that deep, don’t freak out’, it actually is that deep. This is disrespectful at best and hateful and oppressive at worst, even if the original poster didn’t intend it that way. It’s essentially saying ‘I’m taking away your self expression because it doesn’t fit with I deem acceptable for someone with breasts’.
In this vile world where women/afab trans people in general are consistently being oppressed, ordered around, abused and more, seeing someone be blatantly so rude like this is just…gross, especially around such an anticipated movie and with a wonderful cast. Please try and do better in the future, there’s no need for this.
Also. Here’s those shirtless photos of Bill, in case anyone wanted evidence of that. (Who is also slaying may I say!)
#I already know people are not gonna be happy about this but Idc tbh#my mutuals will know I’m super passive about most things because I hate confrontation but I just think this is unfair#and before anyone is like ‘you’re only saying this because it’s an actor you like 😤’#….yeah….because an actor I admire and look up to is going to get my attention as opposed to someone I don’t#but I still wouldn’t accept this behaviour towards anyone#anyway. Emma. even tho you’re not reading this. you’re slaying. it’s a moment. you’re a moment#(and BEFORE anyone is like ‘it’s just to get people talking about the movie’#1) you don’t know that. we don’t know why these are the looks Emma is going for. its never an actors sole decision anyway.#2) even if you’re right - so ???? still doesn’t call for obstruction does it#ANYWAY.#s things#nosferatu#nosferatu 2024#bill skarsgård#emma corrin#nosferatu premiere#Emma Corrin the monarch you are. please never stop slaying#I’m going to see Emma in the seagull in late Feb actually#I told my script writing lecturer about that and she was like ‘I want notes when you get back’ so 🫡 watch out seagull cast. I’m reporting#back to a professional play writer (and all I’m gonna do is gush gush gush.)
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Been seein some rather cold takes about Daisy lately…
I’ve seen some people say that she has no personality outside of fanon, but that’s just not true. There is a very very common misconception among the fandom (at least that I’ve noticed) that if a character doesn’t appear in a “mainline” game, then they have no personality. But I’d argue that the spinoffs actually offer waaaaay more in terms of looking into character personalities. And no, I’m not talking about the RPGs ala M&L and Paper Mario as those are obviously full of personality (and Daisy isn’t in those). I’m talking about the Party, Kart, Tennis, and other sports games.
Yes, Daisy hasn’t appeared in any mainline game since her debut, but she’s been in nearly every sports game and her traits, stats, abilities, victory/loss animations, and various other tiny details add up to her personality. The fact that she’s nearly always yelling or just speaking really loud in general (noticeably more than any other character), the fact that she constantly feels a need to say her name and make herself known, how she loves flowers and considers even a small patch of flowers worth protecting, how she’s easily bored by tasks that don’t excite her and isn’t so reliable for them. She tends to jump around a lot, and spin and dance around when she’s excited! She’s apparently a rather fast runner and that is considered her specialty! These are all traits that are displayed in the spinoffs, and there’s probably soooo many more that I just can’t remember right now.
Now, I do think her tomboyish nature is probably fanon, as I don’t really remember seeing anything to show that she acts that way in the games. I think people probably think she’s tomboyish due to how loud and energetic she is. But hey, there’s plenty of fanon for just about any character from any fandom out there. And what’s so wrong with that? Isn’t the whole point of making fanworks to expand on the framework already provided by canon? If we want to stick to what’s actually “canon” then nearly everything the fandom has created would have to be tossed, because there really isn’t much to work with. Fanworks and fandoms thrive on what fans can create based on the canon work, not just sticking to it perfectly.
It’s fine if you think the “fanon” Daisy outshines the “canon” Daisy and you dislike that. But to say that she has no personality aside from fanon interpretations just tells me that you have a very narrow idea of what counts as “canon” in an already rather simplistic world. The Mario games are very simple and straightforward without much consistent lore that actually makes sense cohesively, but the characters are what keep everything tied together despite that. The characters are nearly always consistent, and that includes Daisy. Even when the setting is completely different and some random new villain shows up with some random new power source to steal or species to torment, our same well-known lovable characters will be the center of the story and that’s what makes it fun!
#devin speaks#super mario bros#princess daisy#i mightve gotten a bit too personal with my views of canon vs fanon but i still think it needs to be said#people who argue over what is considered canon in a video game series are so funny to me#especially a series like mario that has expanded soooo far from its original premise#its different than a show or movie since most shows will finish their main story before delving into spinoffs#most of the mainline games are literally just bowser kidnapped the princess and mario has to save her#very few of them offer any insight to personality of anyone#that isn’t to say theres none at all but i still think the party kart and sports games offer waaay more#of course everyone is entitled to their own opinions and if you dislike daisy or think shes boring then whatever you do you#i am simply sharing my opinion as well :)#sorry time to be salty real quick#literally the entirety of waluigis personality comes from the spin offs but no one talks about him???#he is literally in the same boat as daisy but i never see anyone saying they dislike him for his ‘fanon personality’#really makes you think#people rag on peach for ‘having no personality’ too but hers shines through the spinoffs as well#and even the rpgs!! shes actually in those and has multiple voicelines and cutscenes and people *still* say she has no personality!#i know this is about daisy but gosh mario ladies in general are treated rather poorly unless theyre eye candy#im glad rosie debuted in a mainline game with a clearly given backstory spoon fed to the player so she doesnt get this treatment lol
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alright, gonna get something off my chest. Then i'll watch Youre Getting Burgers
#You know those trailers that played right before the movie?#I remember seeing those in the theater IRL.The first film was Jack And Jill and the second was Alvin And The Chipmunks#(I could be wrong; but i am ALMOST CERTAIN that's which movies they are)#When i saw those in the theater i was just a few years younger than stan is#And i was about stan's age when i started to become just like him#Like him i started to dislike stuff fir people my age. Then i suspected i was 'mature'. But turns out i wasnt that either#There was no apparent cause. I just didnt get joy out of anything anymore#And it ruined my ability to have friends. But i could stil get out of bed and go to school so it took me longer to realize things werent ok#And when i finally had friends again i spent a while struggling with addiction and needed it in order to be social#I wish i had seen YGO+AB much sooner. But knowing me; i still wouldnt have figured out i had a problem#I hate that i'll never get this part of my life back. I missed out on so much when i was young#Just because i was too depressed and cynical to do anything but go to school then go to my room and not talk to anyone#Well. Im doing better now than i was before. And thats what matters#Now lets watch stan go through the same thing
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Personal bitching but I'm unfollowing/blocking anyone in sight that posts about f/naf. Idc if you just got into it or it's a niche you've liked for a while, it's a literal dumpsterfire all the way to the core and I'm not tolerating it around me after 7 years of encouraged braindamage from the creator/fanspace surrounding it all ✨
#'what'd the creator do' google it but he's a far right pile of garbage#anyone who tries to start shit: i was in that fanspace for 7 years since the release of the game#it's filled with gr//mers + egotistical asshats + constant depictions of childgore encouraged among young artists + tons of lgbtphobia#the list goes on#like i said idc if you just get into it or what#i'm not putting up with looking at it or tolerating it when it's a huge source of so much trauma in mine/my bf's lives#it's literally just cheap mascot horror badly written by a religious far right white guy admitting he regularly lies to his supporters#and guess what i'm right because i bought the main series of books and followed the games up until the latest one before shit dropped-#so i know what i'm talking about#'can't i just like the movie' i mean considering watching it/buying merch directly supports the guy who donates to people like t/ump lol ok#yeah it's bitter thinking about the shit that happened in that space directly influenced by the creator#i don't sit cursing at the sky about it lol we just laugh about it together and talk shit#but the point stands that yeah fuck that shit#rosebud posting 💐
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me in the theater watching michael have a nightmare about getting stuffed and william getting springlocked while new fnaf fans scream in horror
#that’s my theory about the suit with the moving locks!!!#almost like a fnaf 4 call back is how I see it#getting lots of tags of people mostly just wanting to see it for josh which VAILD#but if anyone doesn’t know the basis of the lore of the games and wanna know before the movie#I’d be happy to discuss!!!#I think it’s so fun because just about all of it is theories#and since this is an adaptation we never know!#welcome movie goers it’s very chaos!#angel talks 💕
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the vast majority of fanworks are bad, and that's fine, actually. they are bad for the same reason that the average number of legs for a human person to have is less than two: statistics. like with all endeavours and especially creative ones, most people who write fanfiction or draw art of their favourite characters are bad at it. if you line up all the crochet projects in the world, most of them will be, well, bad. some are bad because they're the first thing a person ever made, or the second or third or tenth, and this kind of thing takes practice. others are bad because the person who made them is just not very good at it. maybe they just learned how to make granny squares and they're perfectly happy to never expand or improve on that. most people who dance or bake or garden or braid hair are not amazing at it! and you'd never go to your kid's dance recital or eat your friend's homemade carrot cake and expect the same experience as you'd have at a professional ballet performance or award-winning bakery. And that's if we assume there is an objective measure of Good Art, which there isn't! Some art is just "bad" because you don't like it!
I think though that specifically with fanfiction, we sometimes forget that when we read a book or watch a movie, dozens of people have looked at it and given feedback and made changes and done quality control before the final product reaches our shelves or screens, and that's not counting the original writer's learning process and past experience. A published book is not anyone's first crochet project, even if it is their debut novel. But with fanfiction, the barrier to entry is so low (on purpose! this is a good thing!) that we do get to see a lot of wonky granny squares, and on sites like AO3 they're sitting on the same shelf as the hand-made silk lace wedding dress and you can't always tell just by looking at it which is which. The consequence of this is that we encounter fic that we think is unpolished, has bad punctuation, is out of character, and we are tempted to think "well, this is awful! how dare this person put this wonky granny square on the same shelf as the lace wedding dress!" But that's not how fandom is supposed to work! That wonky granny square is somebody who is really excited about this TV show they just watched and they are reaching out into the void to share their excitement with you. To scoff at them for not making a lace wedding dress is really, really rude. Even if they did make a lace wedding dress, maybe it's just really not your style, or you think they should have used a different pattern, and it's still their wedding dress. You don't have to wear the dress and you don't have to read the fic.
We all know that there is some fanfic out there that is incredible. I think it's important to talk about that! But the vast majority of people who post their writing online are just sharing their little hobby projects that they make for fun and I also think it's important to remember that.
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fwb!suguru who knew he wanted to fuck when he first laid eyes on you. then wanted to take you out to endless dinners to chat his ears off when he first spoke to you.
fwb!suguru who grew to like you without fucking you, almost forgot it was what he wanted you for – a life together or a night together?
fwb!suguru whose dick got painfully hard when you taunted him, rolled your eyes at him or outwitted him. he lived for your sassiness.
fwb!suguru who happened to fuck you on a random night unexpectedly and it changed the trajectory of his life.
fwb!suguru who stayed after every dick appointment. cuddled with you on the bed, watched movies or your favourite TV show, ordered take out and held you in his arms till you both inevitably fell asleep.
fwb!suguru who couldve sworn he wasn't in love with you. he would still fuck other people (and then come back to you, poor baby was thinking of you the whole time)
fwb!suguru whose grown accustomed to your presence. he calls you when he isn't feeling okay, you call him when something bothers you. he's grown used to you telling him all about work, how you got your nails done, how you saw a cute cat near your apartment. trivial details, which coming from anyone else he would hang up, but he looks forward to them with you.
fwb!suguru who eventually stops fucking other people and is just your man, without you knowing.
fwb!suguru who is determined to mark you up in placed people will notice. your neck, your thighs, your collarbones.
fwb!suguru who believes in giving you his all. all of his long girthy dick that pumps you full it should be criminal, his long slim fingers that have made you orgasm so often and hit that deep spot with unbeat ease, his long tounge... oh god his tounge. he thinks maybe even his long life ahead is yours too, all yours. his little kids too maybe? he doesn't like to think too much about that.
fwb!suguru who has to have your pussy checked with his tounge daily. he has to lap up your insides no matter any circumstances. his voice purrs across your body when he talks you through your orgasm.
"mhmm yeah cum all over my face beautiful, I know you want to"
fwb!suguru who gets sick at the thought of you sitting so pretty for another man when you tell him you're going on a date. suguru who looks so disturbed at the thought of another man even looking at his pretty girl who isn't really his.
fwb!suguru who takes you to corporate events just so he can call you his girlfriend, even if it's just pretend. when you question him it's always "easier explanation than a friend i fuck on the regular, isn't it?"
fwb!suguru who knows how you like your coffee in the morning. he knows what you like for breakfast, your comfort food, your hobbies, your favourite movies, your least favourite movies, your icks, your past. he knows you like he knows himself. he thinks of you when he passes your favourite cafe, he texts you when he sees something in the colour you like.
fwb!suguru who is sure he hasn't felt this way before, who is so vulnerable with you that it scares the shit out of him.
fwb!suguru who is afraid, angered at everything about you. he's angry at how you lull him into a sense of security, how you hold him, how sweet your voice sounds when you call him by his name, how you take care of him, how you listen to him. he hates how your pussy clenches his dick for dear life, milking it dry and how you never let a drop of his cum go to waste, licking it up like a little slut. he's fearful too. about losing you. about where loving you the way he does leads. loving you? wait. he loves you? fuck. fuck. fuck. this hasn't been according to plan at all.
#somebody lied to her#aniya writes ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა#jjk#suguru ♡#jjk smut#jjk x reader#geto suguru#jjk geto#geto x reader#geto smut#jjk suguru#suguru geto smut#jjk ^ ~
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Something I miss from the start of the pandemic was being able to watch movie theater releases from home.
I know why they’ve gone back to in theater only releases, but as someone with multiple disabilities and a compromised immune system that makes movie-going hard, it was the first time in years I got to enjoy new releases as they came out.
I didn’t even particularly mind that it was costing me $20 to rent it for a single viewing. To me it was just another disabled tax, but one I was actually happy to pay for the price of finally feeling included in the experience of enjoying new media. (Not to mention actually going to the movie theater costs something closer to $40 these days.)
Factor in that I got to control my environment (not too dark or loud to avoid migraines. No nerve compression from sitting in chairs not designed for my body. Access to food I could eat and bathroom breaks as needed without missing anything.) the sheer joy alone of being able to talk to my friends about movies as they came out was really something I hadn’t realized I was missing until I had it back.
Normally by the time I get to see new media it’s several months later and everyone else has moved on.
It’s alienating.
The whole experience of being disabled alienates you from most of society, but it always tends to be the big things you think about and not the little. And that was one of the little things I missed.
And now there’s a new Superman movie coming out next year that I’m actually so, so excited to see. But barring a miracle of Biblical proportions, I know I’m not going to be able to hobble my butt into the cinema without risking my health.
So, I’ll be watching it months later when the hype has already died down. And my enthusiasm for it won’t be counted in box office figures despite being the type of person who would go see a movie multiple times in the cinema if I enjoyed it.
I dunno, man. It just sucks. I wish they had like, memberships or something you could pay to watch things at home.
And before anyone is like “just pirate it” — that’s not the point of the post. The point is people are excluded from things in ways you don’t even think about and the pandemic made it really clear that there were always ways to accommodate people like me.
People just don’t want to.
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terrible company — logan howlett x reader
secret time i never used to like wolverine because i thought i was cool and then i saw deadpool 3 and my jaw dropped and i watched most of the x men movies in like three days and now here we are
side note the tiktok edits went absolutely crazy with this scene
back at school needed to write something to keep me sane enjoy
barely edited we die like overworked students men
minors fuck off plz n thnx
as always, warnings: smut smut smuttt, enemies to lovers, fingering, p in v sex, dirty talk, light face slapping (trust me!), logan's a dick
—
“what, sweetheart? — afraid you might like it?”
you rolled your eyes at the man before you: logan howlett, the most obnoxious and formidable man you had ever met. his eyes twinkled with mischief, but his smirk hinted at so much more. this was the fifth or sixth time or so that he had flirted with you outright since you had first met him, and you had still found yourself being caught off guard from his honesty and lack of embarrassment.
he was an enigma to you — such terrible company, always brooding over something. then, randomly, he would see you and his eyes would get that look — as if he forgot what made him so miserable — and flirt with you so inappropriately that you didn’t know what to do, nor feel.
you sighed, staring at him. “can always count on you for shock value, can’t it?”
he smirked then, and you rolled your eyes. continuing, you spoke, “i’ll never get you. you are so mean to everyone — besides the people you want to fuck, of course.”
you turned away then, shaking your head. you didn’t hear him follow you. you grew angry after that realization, causing another sharp breath of air to leave your nostrils in a huff. you weren’t sure if you were angry at the fact that he didn’t follow you and immediately apologize even though he would never do that, or if you were just angry at how you were upset he didn’t follow you.
you tried not to think about it. you had work to do.
your next mission would be based out in the north somewhere — cold, dark, barely any service or electricity, and horrific weather. all of that would’ve made anyone groan, but none of that was the worst part.
not even close.
the worst part was that logan was your partner.
it made bile rise in your throat at the thought.
you generally didn’t mind him — he was grumpy, sure, but someone like old yeller would be grumpy after how many years he’s been alive and after what he’s been through. what pissed you off and what you couldn’t forgive — is how he treated different groups of people. he picked on a lot of people, and even if it was just “harmless hazing” — you didn’t care. it wasn’t cool and it definitely wasn’t hot. it was hurtful and you didn’t like it. he made fun of your friends, and that was where the hate began — and there was no end in sight.
but the best part? oh — the fucking cherry on top? his endless flirtation. he flirted with you shamelessly as if he wasn’t ruthless with your friends moments prior. did he think you void of loyalty? did he think you would sleep with him after he roasted your friends just because he threw a few sleazy comments your way? how little respect did he have for you? or, worse — how little respect did he think you had for yourself?
made your fucking blood boil.
that no good, rotten, fucking —
“hey, sweetheart —“
when you were within fifteen feet of him, it felt like all you did was roll your fucking eyes and bite back a quip. all you wanted to do was put him in his fucking place, or stay as far away from him as possible. however, with a mission so important — so dire — you couldn’t ask for a reassignment and make the team succumb to immature whims. you put up with logan because neither you, the team, nor the government had more options or time.
“what, logan?” you spat, pursing your lips as you turned around to face him.
fuck, he was so goddamn handsome. his skin was tanned from constantly being outside, looking perfectly aged. his facial hair and hairstyle were out of the ordinary as well, but it only kept your attention on him longer. he was strong — so strong. his muscles could kill in mere seconds, and you realized you hated yourself for thinking this way. for falling into the trap of a man so annoying — so undeserving of your attraction — your only response was to clench your jaw and fucking glare at him.
he raised his eyebrow at your attitude. “others already took the cars and helicopter. looks like we’re takin’ in my chopper.”
he didn’t wait for you to disagree. in fact, as you were winding up your “aaaabsolutely not” he immediately turned around and left towards the front — where his motorcycle was parked outside.
you stared at him as he walked towards the bike — broad shoulders clad in the leather jacket he always wore. his legs, even covered in jeans, were so trim and muscular that you could see the power behind each stride. when he swung one leg over the seat, and two hands gripped the handle bars — you would’ve said he was attractive if it wasn’t for how horrendous he was. you would’ve bit your hand at how broad his shoulders were and the strength behind them. you should’ve torn your gaze away from him — because at that moment, the moment where you were contemplating your attraction towards him and how it worked with your hatred for him — he caught you staring.
he caught you staring — and the fucking bastard smirked.
you cursed then, and then started towards his bike. like he once did, you swung your leg over and wrapped your arms around his midsection.
“hold on tight, sweetheart,” he spoke, the vibrations of his deep voice felt against your chest. “can’t say i’d let anything bad happen to you, though.”
“just drive, logan,” you spat through gritted teeth.
he chuckled darkly then, revving his engine. “yes ma’am.”
with his back to you, unable to see his reaction — it was the one moment, the one fucking time that you didn’t roll your eyes at him. your reaction to his words — yes ma’am — was raw and surprising, unsettling almost. you shifted in your seat and adjusted your grip on him as a warmth settled in your stomach, and on the apples of your cheeks. your breaths turned shallow, too, as your whole body succumbed to the blush that overtook.
no, you thought. you think he’s hot. that’s fine. assholes can be hot — we just can’t act on how hot they are. that’s fine. it’s fine. everything is fine —
but the way he smelled? oh god, the way he fucking smelled? logan was what bath and body works modeled those mahogany or whisky or leather or whatever-the-fuck candles after. part of you wanted to curse him out, making up something to be mad at him for — but the other parts wanted to wrap your arms around him tighter and stick your nose in the back of his neck like a depraved lunatic.
but you couldn’t. you wouldn’t let yourself. you sat up straighter then — trying to put as much space as possible between you and him on a vehicle that was not meant for a rivalry between driver and passenger.
you were disgusted with yourself. so, so disgusted with yourself.
fuck, you thought. this is going to be a long night.
when you reached camp, you immediately began setting up. you set up shelter and got your supplies in order, and logan went out looking for food. that was logan’s one quality that not even you could take away from him — he was an excellent hunter. you tried to busy yourself as best as you could — setting up the tent, starting the fire, the works. the sun would almost be down before logan came back.
when you heard his footsteps, your head immediately flicked up towards him. there he was — dinner thrown over his shoulder, clad in a white tank top, and cigar in his mouth. a cloud of smoke followed behind him as he walked towards where you had set up camp.
“showing off?” you cast your gaze down, putting another log on the fire.
“…is it working?”
you couldn’t help it. you let out a small laugh.
fuck.
you cleared your throat immediately, hoping he didn’t hear it. unfortunately, there was no use in that. fear struck you when you saw the tiniest smirk on his face. you brushed it off, leaving him to go get a sweatshirt as he dressed and cleaned the animal.
“scared of a little blood, sweetheart?”
you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his comment. “it’s an animal, logan. not our enemy.”
“…fuckin’ vegans.”
“okay, old yeller —“ you quipped, poking at the fire. “you don’t feel a drop of sadness when you go after bambi?”
“it’s meat,” that was all he said on the subject, and you didn’t feel like poking the bear.
you ate in silence and went to bed in silence. actually — you went to bed. logan stayed out by the fire until you retreated to your tent. you left him with a bottle of jameson on his right, and a cigar in his left hand. his eyes were trained on the fire.
you didn’t like the look on his face. it was either an expression of zoning out, sadness, or a mixture of both — you couldn’t be sure. any time someone had asked logan what was on his mind, it was usually met with some rude or mean insult from logan. old yeller didn’t like feelings, and that worked out well for you — because you didn’t want to hear about his feelings.
you thought he would stay out all night if he could, never sleeping. however, he did end up going to bed — but you only knew that because he woke up screaming from a nightmare.
him yelling was extremely inconvenient and frankly dangerous — it could blow your cover. in your exhausted state, you sprung up and out of your tent and dashed over to where logan was curled on the ground. he was thrashing at the air — knocking over his bottle of whisky and kicking at the fire.
“logan!” you hissed, trying to force yourself out of your discombobulated state. the thrashing continued, and in a moment of desperation — you got on top of him.
straddled him, to be more exact.
in a moment, his eyes snapped open. your back was on the ground and he was above you — one of his claws at your jugular. logan’s instincts woke up before he did as he laid on top of you and over you, breathing heavily as he kept his blade drawn at your neck with his eyes blown wide.
“you were having a nightmare,” you choked out. “you’re okay —“
he was still staring at you and breathing heavily. it was like he was in a trance — unaware of how to navigate the feeling of peace and a fight or flight response. his pupils, blown wide, showed no sign of calming down.
you reached both hands to grasp at his cheeks, feeling the tickle of his beard on your palms. “you’re safe — it’s alright.”
he dropped his head then — on your collarbone. it hung in shame, guilt, and exhaustion. the unholy trinity that followed logan howlett around for his entire life. one of your hands slid to the back of his neck, cupping the base of his head as his thumb stroked his skin.
“i’m sorry,” was all he said, head still in the crook of your neck.
“you’re good — i get them, too.”
“i’m not looking for a pity party, alright?” he snapped, pushing himself up.
that was it. the final straw.
you reached forward them, yanking him by the shirt so you were nose to nose — tongue on fire, throat hoarse with anger and tight with sadness. “you’re such an ass, you know that? all you do is insult my friends, expect me to sleep with you, and then the moment — the one fucking moment — you show any sign of humanity, i extend a fucking olive branch, and you snap at me? — the fuck is your problem, logan?”
he raised his brows then, almost in a beckoning fashion. “you think i need a shoulder to cry on, huh, sweetheart? — that’s the thing with you young people, why your friends annoy me so much — there’s no fucking time to spend whining when there’s a fucking job to do.”
“jealous, logan?” you spat, still gripping his shirt. “can’t stand the fact that i would rather console the people you insult rather than let you fuck me?”
“what you do in your spare time is yours, sweetheart —“ he scoffed. “if you want to spend it with people who don’t respect you, fine by me.”
“don’t respect me?!” you spat. your face was red and hot now, burning with rage. every word that left your mouth was coated in venom hoping to strike him like his words struck you. “you’d fuck me, leave, and then probably treat me with as much disdain as you treat everyone else — how the fuck is that better?!”
oh — you shouldn’t have.
you really, really shouldn’t have.
you felt the regret as soon the word “better” left your mouth — only a moment before you saw something switch in logan’s eyes. the switch was followed by a twitch in his jaw, the movement he makes before he basically uses someone’s spine as a tooth pick. you knew he wouldn’t hurt you — he couldn’t, he wouldn’t — but damn, the realization of how much weight your statement held in his chest concerned you.
you watched his nose crinkle in anger.
he let out a frustrated, slow breath.
another.
and another.
and then another. he was still on top of you then — staring down his nose at you. you were cocky, cocking your chin up at him — trying to feign looking him in the eyes despite your lack of height. you didn’t want to be a sexual object, there for his free use. you didn’t want to be something he could discard, worthless. you didn’t want logan to give you the same treatment he gave your friends — because that would mean you were no longer worth anything to him.
you braced yourself for his words — what you always thought would come, sooner or later. the end of flirting, and the beginning of rejection and hatred.
“that’s it, huh?” he spoke low then, fighting back anger. “the princess thought i’d leave?” his lips were barely touching yours then, threatening the barrier and final boundary of air between you two. your chest was rising and falling with every word, unable to keep your cool. he continued, “maybe i should — since now you sound like your friends — bunch of fucking whiners.”
you slammed at his chest then, trying to push him off for his hurtful words. he didn’t budge — he was the fucking wolverine, what could you do that would get him to actually move?
“the problem is, doll —“ he took both of your hands and pressed them down next to your head. “i know you’re not like them — and i like you too much to leave.”
you scoffed, gritting your teeth. “stop fucking —“
he let go of one of your wrists and grabbed your chin in his strong hand, silencing you. he stared down at you then, and no words had the chance to leave your lips. anger sent daggers from your eyes to his, but something swirled within his irises. something worse than anger — darker. stronger. harder.
“are you going to stop fucking whining and let me kiss you?” he spat. “or are you going to crawl away with your tail between your legs and be forced to use that stashed vibrator you keep in your bag?”
you sucked in a sharp breath then — eyes going wide as your lips fell open in surprise. he smirked then, obviously pleased. your chest was still rising and falling, but now it was with shallow breaths as something else filled your lungs and abdomen.
heat. pure heat. warmth spread throughout your ribs, abdomen, and core once you absorbed logan’s words. he was so mean — so fucking rude and mean — but his “no bullshit” attitude forced you to keep out of your own way in a way you didn’t want to admit you liked. you were still then — and all you could do was stare up at logan with your big, dark eyes as a smirk crept onto his face.
“that’s it, baby,” was all he whispered before he kissed you.
the hand that once held your face slid around the back of your head, holding the base of your skull up and out for him. he planted his spread knees in between your thighs, cementing himself in place as his other arm held himself up.
logan kissed you with demand in every movement. his lips lead you in a fashion that so passionate and so dominant that your brain and body were fucking putty — his to mold in his hands as he deemed fit. you should’ve been disgusted, tormented by the fact that he would do such a thing — but you couldn’t keep up the act any longer. having logan so close, so warm — it was the ultimate act of comfort.
men had kissed you before — but no man from before could kiss you like this. this. no man had the power to claim you in the open, dangerous air while on top of you and still making you feel so safe and protected. you didn’t feel the need to go out of your way to show dominance — and it felt so fucking good to turn your brain off, even for just a moment.
and logan? fuck — logan? he had wanted nothing more for months than to be exactly where he was now; on top of you, tongue exploring the mouth that loved to insult him. he knew how on edge you were, how you were always caring about everyone but yourself — he just wanted to see what you were like when you could only think about one thing, and one thing only: your own pleasure.
it started with his fingers tightening on the back of your neck ever so slightly. your throat let out a quiet sort of mewl — like he had squeezed the last shred of focus out of you. he wanted you out of focus — not necessarily under his control, he just wanted you to lose control. crying, screaming, taking out your anger on him for all he cared — but he just wanted to be the one that made you forget about everything for a little while.
…so when he felt your hands running up and down the length of his upper body, curious as to the muscles of his shoulders — he knew what to do. he couldn’t help himself, should’ve asked —
he lowered his lower body down and ground against your clothed core.
instinctively, your legs tried to wrap around his — trying to bring him closer. you were struggling, it was so cute to him. he thought about how mean it would be to tease you, even if it was for a little bit — but would quick fun honedtly help you? the stick up your ass would probably never leave, he thought — he had to do this right.
and when he did it again — the smallest whine built in the back of your throat, sending vibrations throughout your body and senses. logan’s hyper sensitive hearing sent shivers — actual shivers — up and down his spine, and right to his cock as his strained against his zipper.
he felt you clam up then, tighten — insecure. he could sense it. smell it.
“don’t you dare —“ he breathed, demanding another kiss from you. he would swallow you whole if given the choice. “those whines you make? those sweet, little noises? — they’re mine, doll. mine. you don’t get to take what’s mine, do you?”
“no —“ you whimpered, shakily. “but — i — i thought —“
he let your neck go, much to your dismay, but that empty feeling was replaced by his large, flat palm pressing against your clothes core. you jumped for a moment, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as you peered up at him through your lashes.
“thinkin’ i hate whiners?” he laughed, biting on the skin of your neck as he kept palming you. “not when they sound as pretty as you, doll. ‘m so hard for you — gotta know you want this as much as me.”
you almost let out a struggled gasp then, close to tears. he was so mean. the stress and pain of waiting could be felt all over. he was being so sweet — so generous with his touches — but you wanted more. needed more.
“wan’ it so bad, logan,” you gasped, almost hiccuping. “don’t fuck with me anymore, please — no more games.”
you felt his hand slide your zipper down its track, smirking. “no more games means you’re mine, doll. i don’t fucking share.”
you watched as his large hand — calloused from years of war, labor, and pain — found its way under your pretty, lacy thong. he wanted to rip it off you, free you from the tight clothing — but he needed you now. you needed him now, and he wouldn’t deny you any longer.
you were soaking wet when you felt two fingers slip in between your folds, sending a sharp breath to be sucked in between your lips. logan watched in awe as the flames of the fire caught the glistening wetness on his fingers, illuminating the reflection for both of you to see and witness.
it was obvious to him now — you wanted him so badly, for longer than you had ever let on.
he should’ve been slow, loving, maybe even tender — but that wasn’t him. never was, and never would be. your grip tightened on his as he slipped two fingers inside your pussy, sucking him in desperation.
you immediately tried to bite back a squeal when you felt his fingers finally slide all the way inside you, leaving no space undiscovered. the pads of his fingers were nudging at the roof of your pussy as the meat of his fleshy palm rubbed against your lonely clit — pink, puffy, and pathetic. so desperate. you were biting your lip now, screwing your eyes shut — trying to fight the urge to scream his name.
“oh, i don’t think so, doll,” he grunted. “look at me.”
you tried to look at him. you really did. when you couldn’t manage it, your eyes blurry — you couldn’t believe it: he lightly smacked your jaw.
it should’ve sent you reeling, absolutely fuming — but it only caught your attention. he was glaring down at you, fuming, with a pink hue on his cheeks. “what did i say, huh?”
you couldn’t respond. he had halted his movement, leaving you to buck into his hands.
“those moans are mine,” he spat. “you’re goin’ to be loud, and you’re goin’ to let me know exactly how it feels, alright?”
“okay,” you whimpered. “please just —“
“fucking christ —“ he spat exasperatedly. his movements were rougher now, more than ever — sending you closer and closer to the edge. “your wound so tight, you know that? so fucking concerned and always thinking — you’re goin’ to let go for me, doll, and i’m not taking my eyes off this pussy until it sings for me.”
“fuck, logan —“ you threw your head back, screwing your eyes shut.
“you wanna close your eyes, baby, huh?” he grunted with cockiness in his voice. “too much for you?” his voice was low and guttural, turning you on more and more. “need to see what it’s like when you break for me, baby. — lose it for me, yeah? come on — that’s it — that’s a girl —“
every muscle in your body was tightening with every word. you were straining against him — wanting to pull him close and push him far away at the same exact time. you wanted your orgasm, he wanted your orgasm — and you both fought the other for it. you were grinding your hips up to meet his hand — and he was pushing you back down to the ground so you’d sit-the-fuck-still and take whatever he gave you.
logan hovered over you, knees still planted between your thighs. he still worked at your pussy, still forcing it to consume everything he had to offer. his free hand grabbed at the hair at the top of your head, pulling it back so you were at his complete and total mercy, gasping and whimpering for him — and only him.
“yeah, baby — get lost in it. show daddy how much you needed this.”
you couldn’t take it anymore. you couldn’t. you just couldn’t. the relentless need to stay strong, to keep your cool, always remain calm — gone. all of it — gone. shockwaves went up and down your body, every muscle now taught. your neck stretched back and your back arched up into logan’s chest as your orgasm ran up, down, and through every vein. your throat was dry and cracked — as were any and all coherent words that left your mouth. gasps, cries, whimpers — they all went straight to logan’s cock the minute he smelled the sweet and tangy scent of your juice flowing onto his hands and palm. he wanted to lick you up and down, swallow you whole — but logan wasn’t a patient man, no — never.
and there he was. smirking, above you — not even slightly tired.
he kept up his torture — hand still working at your pussy.
“that’s it, baby — ride out that high,” he grunted in your ear, biting at your shoulder. “nice and easy. come down for me, sweetheart — daddy’s not done with you yet.”
you fell back against the dirt, gasping — wondering where the fuck you were and how logan got you there. everything about you — blurry. your eyesight, your hearing, your sense of smell — all of it: blurry. numb and tingling. you could feel everything and nothing all at once, all while trying to catch your breath.
the only thing you could do, the only thing — was reach for logan’s belt buckle, whining for more.
he smirked down at you then once more, taking his cock our for you to wrap your small, weak hand against its girthy base. you were still reeling from the orgasm, but he didn’t mind.
“greedy girl.” he kissed you, mouth hot and demanding. “pussy feels empty without me, huh? gotta change that.”
he threw one of your legs over his shoulder, your muscles stretching and conforming to his will. you pulled him close to you, whining into his kiss. he swallowed every feverish moan with everything he had, his mind now also buzzing with pleasure.
“bet your pussy feels so warm and wet —“ he breathed. “gonna let me use you, baby? hmm?”
you shook your head feverishly, tears coming to your eyes. “please, logan — please use me.”
that’s all he needed. he slid his long length inside you, and he felt every stretch. your pussy was so sweet — ready to mold to whatever he gave you. he heard your head fall back in pleasure, a loan erupting from your chest — but logan couldn’t care about that right now. all he could focus on was how your pussy opened wide for him, sucking him in like if needed him as much as he needed you. he felt himself grow longer and thicker inside of you, almost painfully.
“jesus fucking christ —“ he hissed, grabbing a fistful of your hair and shoving his face into the crook of your neck. his guttural, deep moans were sent straight through your ear and down every nerve in your body. he grunted, “gonna let me take what i need, baby? let daddy use you?”
“yes, please —“ you cried. “need it so bad.”
he bent your leg back to your chest now, and suddenly the head of his cock was hitting a spot you had never felt before. so deep, so hidden — hot tears sprung to your eyes when he found it. every part of you was sensitive, buzzing for his touch — and all you could think about how there was more and more to give to him, only his to take.
“right there —!” you sobbed.
“that’s your spot, huh?” he spat through gritted teeth. “no boy has found that, i can tell. i can fucking smell it. you want me to pound into you there, baby? gonna let a real man show you how he fucks his girl?”
you were sobbing at this point, pulling him closer and closer into you if there was any space. you couldn’t respond. you didn’t have the strength or the brain to do so. all you could do was bite down on logan’s shoulder as he fucked into that spot — that one fucking spot — as he let out animalistic groans in your ear.
“all mine.”
“my fucking pussy —“
“good fucking girl —“
“gonna cream in this pussy until you can’t take it.”
your second orgasm ripped through you then as tears leaked from your eyes. your teeth broke logan’s skin, blood flooding your mouth as he moaned. the pain coursed through him with the pleasure, mixing within his veins until everything else and around him was forgotten. the only thing that mattered was the greedy pussy sucking him in, and the sweet girl beneath him.
logan was a fucking animal with how he chased your high. he ripped and clawed at the dirt as he drank in your second orgasm, feeling you go limp beneath him. the adrenaline coursing through his veins had a mind of its own — he wrapped your arms around his neck as he took your hips in both of his hands. he held you both upright then — smashing your hips down to meet his as you hung on for dear life. deep, broken grunts were pushed through his gritted teeth as he fought tooth and nail for his orgasm. he dove head first into it, letting you both fall to the ground.
you felt logan’s body shake — fucking shake. you had never known him to succumb to something so peaceful and powerful — so demanding of him. his muscles strained against the control like they were chains and he needed to break free. he groaned into the crook of your neck and tresses of your hair as he fucked himself into your puffy pussy, your cries mixing with his groans. logan’s thrust were desperate as he fucked his cream inside you, part of it coming out and leaking onto his cock as it mixed with your juice. the sight of it ripped through him as the want to claim you again and again took him too. he found your lips once more, both of you gasping into a kiss as you both settled back into the dirt.
it was going to be a long, long night...
#logan x reader#logan howlett#james logan howlett#wolverine x reader#wolverine#wolverine smut#logan howlett smut#wolverine x you#logan howlett x reader#the wolverine#logan howlett x you
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FAN BEHAVIOR
characters: dick grayson, jason todd, tim drake summary: batboys with a celebrity! reader content/warnings: fem! reader, fluff
DICK GRAYSON
You’re an actress who has had a meteoric rise, moving from doing small, one-off parts in TV shows to becoming a breakout star on a particularly popular series to being cast in major movie productions
Your stardom is still a little surreal to you and when you’re invited to a wayne enterprise charity gala, you contemplate not going — what business do you have being somewhere with people far more famous than you? But when you tell your agent this, she gives you a look that says you’re insane for even considering declining
You’ll forever be grateful that she urged you to do so because that’s where you meet Dick
He’s standing with Bruce Wayne, chatting with some frequent donors, dressed in a perfectly-tailored navy blue suit when he sees you out of the corner of his eye and he lights up. He approaches you first with that megawatt smile and introduces himself with an extended hand and says, “I’m a huge fan! I’ve been watching your stuff since you were in Legends of the Kingdom!” And the rest is history
Dick goes to every red carpet event you invite him to and he makes it a point to attend every private premiere screening and public opening night
He definitely shushes anyone who talks during your movies or TV shows and does not care if people think he’s obnoxious.
You’re definitely the ‘it couple’ and your faces are plastered constantly on magazine covers and two-page spreads
There are people who try to sow discord in your relationship and their go-to is either pointing out how different you are to Dick’s former girlfriends; that you’re not his type, that this isn’t going to last, etc., or that you’re not talented enough for the fame you have or to be dating Dick Grayson
It definitely gets to you and does nothing to whatever lingering imposter syndrome you harbor but Dick is such a grounding force, reminding you that it’s all just noise and that he loves you completely and unconditionally
At home, he likes to rewind your scenes in shows and movies, and it flatters you as much as it flusters you
He also likes to read through scripts with you when he can and his voices for the various other characters bring you to tears from laughter
So many intentional and unintentional thirst trap couples pics. Like, a selfie you post one morning — Dick is shirtless and you’re in one of his old t-shirts and its sliding down your shoulder and showing your collarbone and you’re both laying on your stomachs in your shared bed, hair sleep (and sex) tousled with the morning sun making both of you look like you’re golden and glowing
JASON TODD
You meet Jason as Red Hood first when you’re running from the paparazzi but you don’t know it’s him
They chase you down a couple of blocks before someone tugs you into an alleyway and you’re about to scream for help when you see who it is. Red Hood shields you as the paparazzi pass and when you ask him why he helped you, he simply says, “I hate the paps and you looked like you needed a hand.”
Once he’s sure the coast is clear, he walks you back to your hotel using the back alleys of Gotham. You make several attempts to strike a conversation up with him in the first few minutes of your walk but what seems to catch his interest is when you start rambling on about just finishing Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment.
You’re disappointed when you arrive at your hotel and you’re rush inside to find a pad to scribble your number on but he’s gone when you return, disappearing into the night
It’s by chance that you meet him again (unbeknownst to you), this time in his civilian identity as Jason Todd. You’re in disguise at a bookstore in Gotham when you bump into him and spill his iced coffee all over both of you, apologizing profusely and offering to buy him another drink, which he accepts. (His voice is oddly familiar to you but you can’t put your finger on why)
You two keep in touch and start dating privately. The long-distance is difficult at times given your very different and busy schedules and Jason is pretty cagey about what he does but you both make time for each other as much as possible
He tells you that he listens to your music during his workouts and in the background while he’s doing stuff around his apartment. He hums along too.
He recommends your songs to anyone who listens, which raises suspicions in the Batfam, and it obviously doesn’t take long for them to figure out that he’s dating you but he makes them promise to keep it to themselves.
Whenever you have a concert in Gotham, which you make a point to do frequently, Jason is in the VIP box, bobbing his head and mouthing along to your songs. When it ends, he’s right there backstage with flowers and a thermos of tea for your throat
Your relationship goes public when fans capture of video of you two leaving one of your concerts together, Jason’s leather jacket draped over your shoulders
You eventually move to Gotham to be closer to him and the two of you spend every free moment either of you have together, making up for lost time.
You still try to keep your relationship as private as possible but fans eat up any crumbs they get, including the occasional selfie of you both
He is your biggest inspiration for songs and also your biggest help. You love bouncing ideas off of him and he likes sitting with you when you pick at your guitar strings and mumble a half-formed melody
(You eventually do find out that he’s Red Hood when he tumbles through the window of your bedroom, bleeding profusely, and you have to take his helmet off to assess the damage)
TIM DRAKE
You’ve known Tim since you were kids given that your parents ran in the same social circles
You started out as a child model in department store clothing catalogs. Tim did some shoots with you too but while his parents eventually stopped auditioning him for such jobs, you continued until the present day, and you’re now a well-known supermodel
You two have been friends forever and the internet laps up your interactions together. There are compilations of videos and photos of the two of you at banquets and red carpet events and memes with text like “when will someone look at me like that?”
Before you two even started dating, there were articles about a supposed romance and sexual tension between you two. In interviews, you would vehemently deny anything asked about it and reiterate that you two are just good friends
At some point, however, you start seeing your childhood friend in a different light. He’s kind, brilliant, funny, attentive, and very handsome. It’s not that you didn’t know that before but it’s different now. You find yourself shying away his casual touches and suddenly conscious of your actions around him — did you laugh too loud? Is your hair in your face? Does he know how you feel? Can he tell?
You don’t want to ruin your friendship, as cliche as it sounds, so you did your best to keep your feelings under wraps, which resulted in you distancing yourself. When Tim would text to congratulate you on your latest Vogue cover or runway show, you would simply shoot a simple ‘thanks!’ text back instead of the usual ‘THANK U’ followed by five heart emojis.
He confronts you about it one day and you’ve never really been a good liar in front of him so you tell him, bracing for a gentle rejection but instead receiving a kiss.
You made a hard launch post with him on Instagram and received hundreds of DMs of people saying they were vindicated in believing that “friends don’t look at each other like that”
Tim is in the front row at every single runway show you have, dressed impeccably in an expensive suit. He takes pictures of you and visits you backstage with your favorite sweet treat.
After fashion shows and other events, you return to his apartment to let your hair down and put your feet up. You do your skincare routines together, sheet face mask and all, and snuggle on the couch for some TV or just to hang out and talk endlessly
You’re very active on social media with him and you two have a lot of couples posts together. When you both have time, you do Instagram lives where people watch you two make dinner together or answer some questions from viewers. A fan favorite is when you choose outfits for each other.
During a runway, you blow a kiss at Tim in the audience and the camera zooms in on his face, where he just watches you with a lovestruck expression and bright red ears — it’s in almost every video compilation that’s titled something like ‘15 minutes of Tim Drake being a simp’
#✶ nove writes#dc comics x reader#dc x reader#dick grayson x reader#nightwing x reader#jason todd x reader#red hood x reader#tim drake x reader#red robin x reader#nightwing scenario#nightwing imagine#red hood scenario#red hood imagine#red robin scenario#red robin imagine#dc comics imagine#batboys x reader#fic: fan behavior
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