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#I mean he still very much looks like him so who knows
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“The Ambiguously Brown Character™”- The Attachment to Eurocentric Beauty Standards
“maybe im petty but i wish people knew how to draw like different nose shapes. Sometimes I’ll see a character I like but im like that is not what their nose would look like.” @the-eldritch-it-gay
You’ve seen them before. The one character that has brown skin… And everything else about them is… an enigma. They’re not supposed to be white! You know that much… right? You can see what the designated white characters look like, so at least it’s not that. You could claim them as Black, if you want, and sometimes creators even demand that this character is Black. Depending on the quality, you’re either like “no, what the fuck is this” or you’re like “okay they’re cool, we’ll take them”. Representation is important. But… There’s a pit in your stomach that wonders… Are they really? Are they really supposed to be Black, is this really representation, or did the creators just toss a brown person in so all the Brown™ people could “have something”, so that they would look like they cared about “diversity” on their art resume?
Examples
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Theseus, in my opinion, looks like a white man with a tan. Dionysus looks a little better with the similar skin tone, due to his purple hair coloration. Apparently people do think that at least Dionysus is a man of color. What’s interesting about both of these characters, is that they’re only about two desaturated browns lighter than Patroclus, a character in the game that we’re supposed to believe is Black (whom, in my opinion, also looks like a brown bucket tool character. I’m still claiming him, he’s my guy. But his design should have been more explicitly Black). Theseus and Patroclus are the two darkest-skinned dead humans in the first game. So… what was I supposed to think about these two? Was I supposed to think they are really dark white people, due to the thin textures of their hair? Are they men of color? Are Theseus and Patroclus supposed to be ashy because they’re dead, is Dionysus ashy because he’s dehydrated from wine? Why don’t the white dead people look off color? Hades was entirely too striking a game in use of color for the browns to look like… this.
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Noe and Hibana are interesting. It was complete coincidence, the purple hair and eyes thing btw. Hibana is interesting because Ogun is an unambiguously Black character in Fire Force, and there are at least three other unambiguously Black characters in Soul Eater as well. So we know the mangaka knows how to draw Black people in their style! So… was this on purpose? Is this another of those ‘tanned anime girls with titties’ meant for shounen fan service? I’ve claimed Noe (Case Study of Vanitas) because Black French people exist and France has stolen so much from us already, but it is never actually specified what Noe is. He’s just the One Singular Brown Guy in this show, with regular, untextured anime hair. Are there more brown people in the manga? Is this explained? Because we know who is supposed to be white! If anyone else wants to claim Noe, they absolutely can, because we have no idea what he’s supposed to be. Hot Chocolate thinks he’s Indian, and I’m not going to argue that because… who knows! He very well could be!
My very first lesson addressed this, albeit lightly! There’s a reason that I said that if you gained nothing else from me, that’s what I want you to walk away with. Now that I’m on stronger footing with this blog, I can really get into the nitty gritty of what that really means.
Obligatory disclaimer: we are not a monolith!* As of 2015, it has been researched that African populations have the highest genetic variation on Earth*, with a lot of that genetic diversity in sub-Saharan Africa alone. This means that YES, there very well can and will be Black people with naturally thinner textures of hair, blonde, light brown, and red hair, straight, narrow noses, monotone lips, and lighter skin that comes more often with white people. There are enough genetic combinations within African peoples and of the African diaspora that I’m sure there are plenty of people that look the way people seem to want Black people in art to look, if those genes so express within them.
*as a scientist, I will say: while these papers seem fairly legit and I looked at many related articles and their sources, take Nature with a grain of salt. Though their vetting process has become much better, you can and should always do further reading on your own!
Here’s the thing: the possibility is not the issue here!
The first issue: I don’t have to teach anyone how to draw those features on Black people! It is evident, from the professional and fan art I’ve seen, y’all already know how to draw the features deemed highly by Eurocentric beauty standards. Those features are excessively focused on and promoted as part of “good art”.
The second issue here is that the average artist drawing a poorly done Black person is not considering things like genetic diversity when they draw them (and if they are, it’s usually as an excuse post-confrontation. Yes, I have seen it.) These creators are not designing these characters with the intent of them being Black with those features, they are designing “Black” people with features that they deem most aesthetic and are most comfortable with drawing.
And why do they deem those features most aesthetic? We’ve circled back to the point of this lesson!
Eurocentric Beauty Standards
Definition: beauty standards as defined through a white, western cultural lens, including but not limited to: straight, blonde hair, light eyes, pale skin, high cheekbones, narrow noses, thinness. It’s a way that white western people want other white western people to look to be considered classically attractive… and then enforced that on everyone else.
It affects people of color worldwide. Anyone that has ever had to deal with European colonization or imperialism has to deal with the interjection of Eurocentric beauty standards.
Examples
-Black women, standing at the intersection of Blackness and womanhood, especially deal with the constant pressure of Eurocentric beauty standards, being consistently told to hate ourselves due to our own ethnic features. It’s incredibly damaging to your self-esteem growing up; my mom told me that until I went natural at 17, I was determined to look ‘like a white girl’ because I thought it would make me beautiful, and it hurt her. And as for me, it was a stunning realization that at 17 that I had never really seen my own natural curl pattern before. My hair was in ponytails and such as a child, but as a teenager, growing into my identity, I had always wanted straight hair. I was in love with my coily texture, I couldn’t believe that I’d never seen it. An entire part of my own body, gone unknown, because I wanted to fit a beauty standard I would never reach.
-Kenneth and Mamie Clark: The “Doll” Studies: Black children- age 3-7 were shown white and Black doll babies, and were asked a series of ‘positive’ and ‘negative’ identification questions. Even by that young an age, most of the Black children associated things like beauty, kindness, and positivity… with the white dolls.
-“The Golden Ratio”: a survey was done in Britain (oh boy, here we go) to determine what people felt was the ‘most beautiful’ face, and apparently it all came down to “symmetry”. “International blueprints of beauty” they claimed, were applied, as humans “naturally seek symmetry”. In 2015, according to ye olde Daily Mail, this was the most beautiful woman. You'll never guess:
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(It’s not even her natural hair color!)
-Another “research study” using E-FIT (Electronic Facial Identification Technique -- a facial recognition software used to create criminal profiles based on eyewitness descriptions; no WAY that THAT could get problematic!!) to determine what 100 people thought was the “most archetypal face of beauty”.
They came up with a figure similar to Kendall Jenner as the female option.
(Guys, we’re never getting out of here at this rate.)
-We’ve spoken about discrimination against Black hair before, and how natural hairstyles will be deemed less professional or appropriate for school, regardless of the brilliant mind that sits underneath it, and even the history of Black women having to cover their hair so as to “not steal the desire of white men” and ruin the status of white women.
Appropriation:
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I try to have nuance on the Kardashians, but I have never liked Kylie, and it’s not because she’s not allowed to do what she wants with her body. I watched the world claim that she was so beautiful, that her kits were why her lips looked “so good”. Everyone wanted to have “full, plump lips” like the ones Kylie BOUGHT. But Black women’s full lips have been treated horrifically since racism was invented. In 2016 I watched racists dogpile and mock Ugandan model Aamito Lagum for her naturally full lips in her MAC campaign, after saying in just 2015 that Kylie’s lips were “top fashion and everyone wants them”. And she lied (not that we didn’t all know that)! She appropriated a look, and she lied about it to move product. And people who had no right to forgive her did so, and everyone moved on to make her a billionaire. Because full lips looked good… as long as they weren’t on a Black woman. I can’t even have my own lips, but she was rewarded with an industry for appropriation. No, I’m not getting over that.
I could go on, but I won’t. So what are some ways to address the existence of Eurocentric beauty standards potentially biasing our creation?
First thing: LET’S TRASH THE IDEA THAT BROWN SKIN AUTOMATICALLY MEANS BLACK.
Black people are not stupid, and we do have expectations. Splashing brown paint on your otherwise white character does not mean I’ll automatically think they’re Black. I’m going to look. When I see brown people in real life, I can usually tell when they don’t look like me. I don’t look at a South Asian similar to or darker than my shade and say “they’re Black”. Blackness is not just skin color, it’s an entire identity and sociological construct. Yes, you can tell us apart.
Acknowledge when you’re holding a bias:
For example: “Tall, dark, and handsome.” What did you picture? You must understand that different people had different ideas of what this meant, versus who it was actually meant to be. Because on its surface, that description includes tall Black men with dark brown eyes and dark hair! We’ve talked about this in lesson 3! Whoever came up with this phrase didn’t mean skin though, they meant hair and eyes- they meant white brunettes. Even in this, it was only meant to include whiteness. And we were all supposed to assume that, be damned anything else.
Part of that is knowing what things do and don’t fall under the category. They were listed off earlier: straight and wavy hair, blonde hair, colorful eyes, thin noses, high cheekbones, double eyelid with round eyes that “show youth and innocence”. People have been going the “aquiline nose” route lately to claim more diversity in nose shape but like… even that isn’t always going to be the case. Every Black person is not going to have an aquiline nose. It is not the “middle ground” of diversity. Draw us with some round noses. We look fine.
Often ignored (in depictions of Black people): afro/coily hair and natural styles, large, round noses, full faces, brown eyes, full figures that aren’t oversexualized, body fat. One of the characters from Craig of the Creek that makes me so happy is Nicole, Craig’s mother. When I look at her design, I see my own mother. I see a Black woman that… actually looks like Black mothers I know. It made me happy and comfortable.
White folk, you even do it to yourselves! I mentioned to a friend once that a good chunk of stories in our fandom with the blonde/brunette white character dynamic read like an Aryan fantasy: the blonde character will be treated like a god on high, the most beautiful of humanity, and then you’ll get to the brunette and it’s “my meek, mousy brown hair, my dull, brown eyes like dirt, and my tanned skin with freckles; no one would ever notice someone plain, nerdy, and unimportant like me until him” lmao like excuse me? Author, you okay there pal? Do you need a hug, lmao? I can’t take it seriously anymore. If y'all are being this mean to each OTHER about not hitting Eurocentric beauty standards, y'all are certainly not being nice or respectful about people of color- who never can- in your content! (and no, exoticizing Blackness is not respectful.) You should look out for how often this happens, and catch yourself when you’re doing it.
Creating with Intent (and the lack thereof!)
(This is so important I made the header larger)
You have to actually consider and reference REAL Black people when you’re drawing Black people. That seems like such an obvious thing, and yet it must not be, because these sorts of arts/the techniques used in them still happen.
For example:
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credit to my friend @devilatelier; I asked for the worst Black art ever and he heeded the call!
I abhor art like this, and art that does varying versions of this. To the pit of my soul, hatred. I will not share your work if I catch even a whiff of it. Why? Because people know that this isn’t what we look like! If you get on the computer and type in “Black man with short hair”, option A is not even remotely on the first page. You’ll get nonblack men that show up, thanks to Google’s algorithm (another conversation), but the Black men don’t look like A. If you get on the computer and type “Black man with long hair”, you’ll even get Black men with all textures and styles of hair, including straight! And they still don’t look like B. Go ahead, I’ll pause- go type it in and see what you get. Have you ever seen a Black person that looks like these images? Be honest with yourself. Why do you let them slide, if you haven’t?
Why This Matters
So it’s not about the actual Black people in their lives that they’ve seen, that makes artists draw characters like this, nor a dedication to accuracy. Because if you were looking at us at all, you wouldn’t draw this. And yet, people draw it, and post it proudly. So there must not be any shame behind it, or they at least are comfortable enough with their target audience to think it’s presentable! That begs the question- who is your target audience, and do you include Black people in it?
It’s how people like Jen Zee can have a successful career at Supergiant despite drawing dark skinned people the way she does. It’s because studios recognize when their target audiences are not perturbed by, and therefore will still buy, their product. If poorly drawn Black people does not perturb audiences enough to affect the almighty dollar- or, in fanart situations, the value of popularity- then there’s no motivation to stop doing it! Who cares about the value and the demeaning of Black fans, right?
Think about it like this. You remember how everyone bullied the Sonic studio and they scrapped their entire reel? People do not get that much up in arms in solidarity about the antiblack treatment and depiction of Black characters. It’s how you end up with Wyll Ravengard on the drop of BG3. Because Larian could have stood on business, had some integrity, and said “this is a character we are going to develop, because there will be fans that look like Wyll, and deserve to receive our best efforts at inclusion.”
But instead, Larian said “this is what our majority fanbase wants, and apparently it is not a well-developed Black character” and released that game as it was. To rousing success. That was a choice. The antiblackness of both the fans and the studio, via their lack of concern about Black gamers, was involved in making that decision. We have to let go of the idea that antiblack racism is incidental, and not a part of the process- and that includes in character design.
I cannot tell you how much it shrivels my heart inside when I see a “Black” character with wavy hair. One, because I know the artist’s first thought was not to have a Black character with wavy hair, but because they draw white people with that hair and thought it was transferrable. Two, because if you wanted the aesthetic of hair down to the back… Locs could have worked! The same shape would be there! You can style locs in any way, and it would be fine! Even if you wanted them to have thinner hair, fine, but… I can see where the intent (and the lack thereof) is. We can see when you aren’t even trying for us!
I asked Angel how he felt about creating the “white man with the brown bucket” images, curious about how he felt given that he is more than capable of drawing Black people. His response was noteworthy, and consistent with my hypothesis:
“Thinking about it, these two drawings have been the most difficult thing I’ve had to draw, period. And it’s the first time I’ve actually felt nauseous during the drawing process from start to finish. I constantly felt like I was fighting off the part of myself that knew better, telling me that this is wrong. It felt like a betrayal, knowing what Black people actually look like and still choosing to be disrespectful. Especially because I worked on the first two and immersed myself in references and also Black youtubers, researching Black hairstyles. It felt like a betrayal to all of that to call these two (deliberately poorly drawn) characters Black, because they’re not. None of the Black people I found during my research (both photo references and videos) looked like these. at all. It felt cheap, it felt lazy. Creatively lazy in the way that you just take a white person and paint-bucket them brown and call it a day. In the way it makes you feel no pull to change what you do, or learn something new. Kinda like a thought terminating cliche. Unlike the first two, I used no references for them, but I mostly based them off of actual designs I’ve seen in fandoms, both fanmade and not.”
Conclusion
So what I want us to consider for now is: if we know that’s not what Black people look like, but so many people are willing to do and/or accept it without any mental dissonance… how much do they care? Why is this allowed to ‘pass’, if we recognize that it is not accurate, unless we think what we are being presented with is acceptable? Or at least, not worth fighting over? Why not? Why do you not think that this Black character deserves to be unambiguously Black? And why does that ‘better’ way to exist always come back to whiteness?
We’re going to get into this, as well as more into the other, more overt and equally harmful manifestation of these beliefs in the next lesson on Whitewashing! But I want you to simmer on this part, first.
When you draw a character that you want to be Black, not only should you keep in mind your intent of how you’re going to draw them, but it also means putting in the work to make sure you’re doing so. You do not put pen to paper and “accidentally” draw a white man lol, it came from somewhere- let’s shatter that connection that views white features as superior, as 'ideal for attention grabbing', so we can create better. Because remember, it is the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!
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Sunshine [3] - Downpour
AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You're amazing! ❤️
I hope you like this as well, and please don't forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰
Thanks to @chibi-lioness for beta reading!
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader
Summary: Evening rain comes out of nowhere.
Word Count: 4540
CW: Smoking cigars, explicit language
Series Masterlist
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Fine.
Maybe you did have a crush.
And maybe the said crush was taking over all your thoughts to the point that you could barely focus on anything other than him, but that was completely normal.
Just like you and your best friend analyzing every single second of your interaction with your crush was completely normal.
“He actually lifted your car?”
You nodded your head, filling both her glass and yours with wine before tucking your legs under you.
“With one hand,” you said, leaning back to the arm of the couch. “He did that with one hand.”
“And you didn’t jump his bones right then and there?”
“No but I may have rambled about going to jail if the car fell on him and also not knowing who would take care of Theo.”
“What is that even supposed to mean?” she asked with a scoff. “I’d take care of Theo. We’d come to visit you every weekend.”
“Thanks Julie.”
“I’d even sign you up for those inmate dating websites.”
You blinked a couple of times. “Uh, no thank you.”
“Hey, if you accidentally kill the ridiculously hot mutant guy—”
“Logan.”
“Yeah, Logan. If you accidentally kill him, you might as well exchange some dirty letters with someone else.”
“Can we please focus on the fact that I actually have a crush on him?”
“We absolutely can,” Julie grinned, swirling the wine in her glass. “Aw look at you! It’s cute.”
“It’s not cute!” you whined, slipping a little on the couch. “Julie, I talk absolute nonsense whenever he and I cross paths.”
“Babe, I mean it in the best way possible,” she said and motioned at your face. “I doubt any guy really listens to any word coming out of your mouth when you look like this, so you’re fine.”
“So not true,” you stated and sipped your wine. “I mean either way, it’s not like anything could happen between us so I’ll just, you know, fantasize about him and gaze at him longingly. Should be fine.”
Julie rolled her eyes at you. “Come on.”
“No seriously, because Theo—”
“Sweetheart,” she said. “You got pregnant at 18. Don’t get me wrong, I think Theo is the most perfect kid in the entire world but keep in mind that while we were all out partying, you were taking care of a baby.”
“It’s fine, I lived vicariously through you.”
“And now that you’re in your twenties and hot as fuck,” Julie said, ignoring your comment. “You don’t think it’s time to live a little?”
“It’d confuse Theo if I started dating around, especially with Logan—”
“Fine, then don’t date Logan. Just fuck his brains out.”
“Nope,” you said, shaking your head. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because the moment I sleep with him, I will be trying to decide on the wallpaper of our future cabin in the woods,” you pointed out, getting a handful of popcorn from the bowl and she scoffed.
“I still can’t believe you want a cabin in the woods.”
“I want a cabin in the woods and I want a horse and a cat and two dogs,” you insisted. “Anyway, the point is, no strings attached is not a thing for me when it comes to a guy that hot. He lifted a car for me, Julie!”
“And you want him to lift you up and down repeatedly,” Julie said with a grin, making you throw a popcorn at her.
“I doubt I’m his type,” you said and she groaned.
“You cannot be serious.”
“No I am, because men like him go for…” you trailed off and threw your head back. “Ugh, I so want to show you his picture so that you’ll know what I’m talking about but I don’t have one!”
“I have this mental image of a very hot lumberjack in mind.”
“That would be correct,” you said before taking a sip of your wine, but then your phone started vibrating on the table and you frowned, then snatched it off the table when you saw the caller ID.
“Theo?” you answered immediately. “Are you alright?”
“Hi mommy!”
You let out a breath at the cheerful tone of his voice, then pressed a hand on your chest and checked the time on the phone.
“What are you doing up, bean?” you asked. “It’s late at night.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “What are you doing?”
“I’m with auntie Julie,” you said and Julie grinned.
“Hi Theo, I missed you sweetheart!” she called out, making Theo giggle.
“Hi auntie Julie!” he said. “Mommy, I thought about it, and I solved how I can have fish.”
You closed your eyes for a moment, a smile pulling at your lips as you shook your head.
“I’m listening, bean.”
“Okay so,” he said. “We will get two fish, and we will put them in an aquarium, but like a bowl, not a huge aquarium.”
You hummed.
“That’s where they’ll stay at the weekends when I’m there,” he said. “And then, on weekdays, I will bring them here, and put them in the lake, and that’s where they can stay within the week! They’d even make friends with other fish!”
You let out a small laugh.
“Theo, my love,” you said. “How will you catch them again if you put them in the lake?”
He paused for a moment.
“Um, I’d call them by their names,” he said. “Cheeto and Popcorn. They’d come.”
“Fish don’t do that baby,” you said softly. “How about you make friends with fish there in the lake and on the weekends they can just spend time with their own friends?”
“Yes but—” he started but then got distracted for a moment by something. “It’s my mom!”
“I know bub,” you heard Logan’s deep voice and your eyes widened. You sat up straight immediately, making Julie tilt her head in confusion. “Tell her I said hi.”
“Mommy, Mr. Logan says hi to you.”
“Uh, tell him I said hi back,” you said after a beat, hearing Theo parrot what you said as you covered the bottom part of the phone with your palm, then mouthed ‘Logan’ to Julie.
“What?!” she whispered and you cleared your throat.
“And tell him to please watch that you don’t have any sweets before bed, for his sake.”
“No!”
“Bean.”
“Ugh fine!” he said. “Mr Logan, my mom says please watch that I don’t have any sweets before bed for your sake.”
You could hear Logan’s chuckle, making you bite at your lip before he spoke.
“Can I borrow the phone for a minute Theo?”
Your jaw dropped and you motioned at the phone frantically, and Julie pulled you by the arm and made you lower the phone a little so that she could hear as well. You pressed your finger to your lips, signaling her to be silent before Theo’s excited “sure!” and there was a shuffling on the other line for a moment before Logan’s voice reached you again.
“So no chocolate before bed then?”
Julie gripped your wrist, mouthing “hot voice!” to you and you let out a giggle, trying to focus.
“Nope,” you said. “Trust me, it’s for your own good.”
You could hear Theo in the background; “I think I can have one chocolate.”
“No no,” you said, shaking your head. “He can’t.”
“Sorry bub, whatever your mom says goes.”
“Um, Logan,” you said, your mind going overdrive again. “If he’s up this late, he will turn the puppy dog eyes on for dessert, and he can be very, very insistent but sugar makes him incredibly energetic, and he will end up blowing a hole in the wall because of his powers so you can’t—”
“Relax princess,” Logan said and you could almost hear his faint smile. “It’s fine.”
Julie’s eyes widened and she fell on her back onto the couch dramatically, kicking her legs in the air while slapping the pillow and you stood up, your heart beating in your ears.
“How’s the car?” he asked and you licked your lips.
“Oh I changed my mechanic, so it’s at the new mechanic’s shop for a couple of days. My friend has been driving me to work—” Julie waved a hand from where she was lying down on the couch. “But apparently it’ll be fixed the day after tomorrow so it’s totally fine.”
“Are you being safe?”
“I am,” you said. “Are you?”
“Am I being safe?”
“Yeah,” you said with a smile. “What with lifting cars and stuff, it can be dangerous.”
“Half a chocolate!” Theo said as if it was the brightest idea in the world. “Half—Mr. Logan, can I have the phone back please?”
You ran a hand over your face and cleared your throat.
“Sorry about that,” you said and Logan chuckled.
“Not a problem,” he said. “Good night.”
“Good night Logan,” you said, your head spinning with excitement and you heard the shuffling, then Theo took a deep breath.
“Mommy, half a chocolate!”
“Not at night,” you said. “We’ve talked about this bean. You can have chocolate tomorrow morning after breakfast, okay?”
“But—”
“Theo,” you said. “After breakfast.”
He heaved a dramatic sigh.
“I know bean,” you said softly. “You’ll be fine, I promise.”
“Mkay,” he said with a huff. “I’m going to sleep then.”
“Okay, I love you!” you said. “Call me tomorrow and be nice to your teachers, okay?”
“I will,” he said. “Love you too!”
He hung up and you let out a breath, then tossed the phone on the couch while Julie sat up.
“Oh he talks you through it!” she said, slamming the pillow on the couch. “I just know he talks you through it!”
“Julie!” you exclaimed, your cheeks burning and she let out a laugh.
“Oh please, with that voice…”
“That’s what I mean!” you said and flung yourself on the couch. “He’s…he’s so amazing and Theo adores him and he’s so good with him too and to repeat, he lifted a car for me!”
“Aw,” Julie said. “He’s gonna be such a good stepdad to Theo.”
Your jaw dropped and you shook your head.
“We’re not even thinking about that,” you said, pointing at her. “We’re keeping our expectations very, very low, okay?”
She hummed, then tilted her head.
“Do you want to check Pinterest for cabins in the woods to see which one could be your and Logan’s in the future?”
You paused for a moment, then shrugged your shoulders.
“Yeah,” you said. “That sounds like keeping our expectations low, sure.”
                                                *
Despite having drunk until midnight and consequently having a hangover in the morning, the next day went without a hitch. You’d only had a couple of rude customers, which in service industry counted as a normal day if not a good one, but because of last night you were more than ready to get home, eat a bunch of snacks and go to sleep.
Towards the end of your shift, rain started pouring and you couldn’t help the whine escaping from your lips, leaning back to the counter. You could hear your friend Stacey’s small laugh as she looked out the window, then back to you.
“It’s just summer rain love,” she said. “It’ll stop.”
“Yeah but I’ll have to walk to the subway under that rain and I don’t have a coat with me,” you pointed out. “Ugh. Great. I’ll look like a horror movie protagonist by the time I get there.”
“This is why I am a huge advocate of waterproof makeup.”
You hummed, chewing on the pen in your hand as you grabbed your phone to check the weather forecast, faintly hearing the door opening behind you.
“It says it’ll rain until—what?” you asked Stacey when you lifted your head to see her raise her brows at something by the tables area and you turned your head to look over your shoulder, your heart jumping to your throat the moment you did so.
“Logan?”
Jesus, he looked way too handsome. He gave you a small smile, running a hand through his dark hair as if he was trying to get rid of the raindrops clinging to it, then approached the counter.
“Hey.”
“H—hi!” you said, your voice going way too high-pitched all of a sudden. “Uh, welcome! It’s so nice to see you, what—what can I get you?”
“I can take his order love,” Stacey said helpfully. “Your shift is over, get home before rain gets worse.”
“No no, I can stay.”
“I’m not here to eat actually,” Logan said, making you pull back a little.
“…Is Theo okay?” you asked, your stomach dropping as the thought hit you and he nodded his head.
“Oh he’s fine don’t worry,” he quickly assured you. “He was trying to name all the fish in the lake with his friends while I was leaving. I came to take you home actually.”
You blinked a couple of times.
“You drove all the way here from the institute just to take me home?” you asked just to make sure you had heard him right and he nodded again as if it was completely normal.
“You said your car is at the mechanic’s.”
One of these days, you were going to melt into a puddle in front of him.
“You really didn’t have to,” you said. “I’d hate to be a bother, and I’m sure you have other things to do, so I can just—”
“What did we say about you being too polite?” he asked, his voice almost chiding in a teasing manner, making warmth spread from your chest to your fingertips and a smile you couldn’t stop lit up your face, making you shift your weight, way too excited to just stand there.
“Um,” you said. “Just—just wait here okay? Don’t go anywhere.”
The corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. “I won’t.”
You took a step back, and rushed to the kitchen, making the line cook turn his head.
“Hey, leaving already?”
“Yeah. Paul, where’s the pie?”
“Over there,” he said, motioning at the counter. “What’s the rush?”
You grabbed the pie to put it into the container while Stacey entered the kitchen.
“Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend, and more importantly, why didn’t you tell me he was this hot?!”
“What boyfriend?” Paul asked and Stacey motioned at the window.
“Look, right there.”
“He is not my boyfriend,” you said, your cheeks burning and Paul stole a look out the window, then let out a whistle.
“I was going to try to win you over but holy shit, that’s one hot dude.”
“And get this, he came here to drive her home.”
“He’s just being nice.”
“Car sex in the rain, got it.”
“He is my friend!”
“Oh really? So you’d be okay if I went out there and gave him my number?”
You blinked a couple of times and scoffed a laugh.
“Yeah but he…” you trailed off, desperately trying to come up with an excuse. “He has a girlfri—he’s married,” you changed your mind mid-sentence, nodding solemnly. “Yeah. He’s not wearing a ring because he is having it cleaned, and also he has—he has this condition that he can’t have sex with anyone. A disease.”
Out of the corner of your eye through the small kitchen window, you could see Logan tilting his head like a confused puppy.
“When he does, his partner’s… lower region just falls off, and it’s very gruesome, and if you haven’t heard of that condition, it’s because he’s like the only person in the world who has it, they named the disease after him,” you added. “Doctors call him a medical wonder.”
Stacey turned to Paul.
“She’s so gonna fuck him in the car.”
“She’s not gonna do that!” you exclaimed and cleared your throat, pushing the box into a plastic bag. “I’m—I’m leaving, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
“Theo doesn’t need a sibling yet, use protection!” Stacey teased you and you shook your head, then pushed the kitchen door and stepped out.
“Hey,” you said breathlessly, your whole face on fire and you held up the plastic bag. “The pie as promised.”
He gave you a calm smile, his eyes darting over you.
“You didn’t bring a coat?”
“Um no, but it’s fine—” you started but before you had the chance to say anything else, he had already taken his leather jacket off to put it over your shoulders.
“What about you?”
“Don’t worry about me,” Logan said as he opened the door for you and you stepped outside, Logan gently steering you to a truck with his hand on the small of your back, making you bite back a smile. As soon as you reached the truck and got in, you let out a breath and put the plastic bag on the back seat, then put your seatbelt on. Logan got in as well, then started the engine and began driving.
“Thank you,” you murmured. “Really.”
“No problem.”
“I could just put it in the GPS or…” you trailed off when you noticed that there was no screen or phone or phone holder in sight so you nodded to yourself. “I don’t—you know, I’m against being a prisoner to technology myself so I can totally relate, and yeah I’ll just put my phone here.”
You quickly found your home address and touched the screen, then carefully placed it on the dashboard and stole a look at him.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” he said. “As long as it’s not about my condition.”
“Your condition?”
“Yeah, that disease you were talking about just now?”
Your eyes widened, your jaw dropping as embarrassment hit you, your cheeks growing hot and a whine escaped from your lips.
“You heard that?”
“Mm hm.”
You slipped a little in your seat, burying your face into your hands, the sight making him chuckle as you took a deep breath and lifted your head to look at him again.
“I can explain,” you said. “It’s just that…Stacey is—you know, she’s incredibly nice but I don’t think she’s over her last boyfriend and I was trying to spare her feelings. Wait, did you want to get her number? Because if you did—”
“No.”
A small spark of hope shot through your system.
“Oh,” you managed to say. “Okay. Um, sorry I made up a nonexistent STD about you.”
“No problem,” he said with a smirk. “But for future reference, you might want to go with the wife lie. I can’t get diseases.”
You nodded slowly. “Because of clean eating?”
“Because of the X-gene.”
You blinked a couple of times, staring at him.
“Wait, what?” you asked. “But Theo got sick multiple times after his powers showed.”
“Not for every mutant,” he said. “My body heals itself.”
“Against everything?”
“Mm hm.”
“What if we had a car crash right now?”
“I’ve been in car crashes, healed in a second.”
“What if someone attacked you with a knife?”
“Happened before, healed instantly.”
“What if someone shot you?”
“Multiple people did in multiple wars. I healed.”
You tilted your head. “I’m sorry, wars?”
“Like I said,” he said after a beat. “My body heals itself. Against injuries, and time.”
You frowned slightly, trying to make sense of what you’d just heard and as soon as the thought hit you, you gasped.
“Oh my God, Logan,” you said. “Did you know Marie Antoinette?”
“What?” he asked with a grimace, turning to look at you better. “What is it with you and Theo and France? He asked me if I knew Napoleon the other day.”
You raised your brows. “Did you?”
“No!” he said. “No, I was born in 1832.”
Holy shit, Julie was right.
You did have a thing for older men but having a crush on an almost 200-year-old man was just a little bit excessive, even for you.
A silence fell upon the car and he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “You okay there?”
“Yeah, just in disbelief,” you muttered. “Do you miss it? Back then?”
He shook his head.
“Not really,” he said. “It was terrible. Now is better, it’s just a little too...”
“Chaotic?” you asked and he scoffed, then nodded.
“Yeah,” he said. “A little too chaotic.”
“I mean I wasn’t born in the 19th century but I know what you mean,” you said. “Seriously, if I could just live in a cabin in the woods with Theo and a cat, two dogs and a horse, I’d do it. I even have all their names.”
“What are the names?”
“I’m glad you asked,” you said. “The cat will be Catapult—”
“Are you seriously going to name your cat after a pun?”
“Damn right I am,” you said, counting with your fingers. “The dogs are Underdog and Overdog.”
“Jesus.”
“And the horse’s name used to be Princess Pink Sparkle Her Highness when I was six, but now I think I’m just going to name her Hi-Horse so that someone can tell me to get off my high horse one day.”
Logan looked like he was in actual pain for some reason.
“But listen, the list used to go like, a cat, a dog and a horse, and I figured like, if I get one dog, why not have two, you know?” you asked. “I couldn’t possibly leave Underdog without a friend, because as much as I love cats, they can be kind of assholes sometimes to dogs, they can’t help it, so that’s how Overdog came into being, and there were also ducks named Comma, Colon, Semicolon, and Exclamation, and their babies were going to be named Parenthesis, Dash and Hyphen but then I realized that would mean I'd need to have the cabin next to a lake, and ever since I watched that one creepy horror movie I’m terrified of lakes at night because I really don’t think we should mess with any bodies of water and—” you managed to stop yourself and cleared your throat. “Just…feel free to stop me when I do this.”
“I like it when you do it,” Logan stated without taking his eyes off the road, as if he was talking about the weather and your heart started pacing in your chest while you gawked at him.
“…People usually hate it.”
“People are idiots.”
“Someone I used to know would cover my mouth whenever I rambled too much.”
“And you didn’t break their hand?” he asked and you scoffed a laugh, then shook your head.
“Nope,” you muttered. “That sounds like a good idea though.”
“It is,” he said, reaching out to grab the cigar resting by the gear stick, and opened his window a little.
“Do you mind?”
“Not at all,” you said. “You smoke cigars?”
“Mm hm,” he said, patting his jeans for a lighter, then looked around the car before his hazel eyes fell on you. “I think my lighter is in the jacket pocket, would you…?”
“Oh sure!” you said and felt around the leather jacket over your shoulders, then pulled out the lighter and flicked it, the warmth caressing your hand for a moment before you held it out for him. Logan stole a look at you, his gaze stopping on your face illuminated by the flame before he leaned in to hold the tip of the cigar to the flame.
You had no idea why, but it felt strangely intimate.
“Thanks,” he murmured and you offered him a hesitant smile, flicking the cap of the lighter back before carefully placing it beside the gear stick.
“Sure,” you said, trying to snap yourself out of it. “Um, I used to smoke cigarettes. Mostly to look cool.”
“Did it work?”
“Not really,” you admitted as he stole a look at the GPS, then back at the road. “Never a cigar though, do you mind if I try it?”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
Corners of his mouth curled upwards. “Are you trying to look cool right now?”
“Hey, if you don’t think I’m cool after learning my future pets’ names, I don’t think a cigar is gonna help it.”
That coaxed a chuckle out of him and he held out his hand so that you could take the cigar from him. The moment your fingertips brushed against his skin, his hand twitched, a warmth spreading from your hand to your whole body. You swallowed thickly, your heartbeat getting faster and you brought the cigar to your lips with a trembling hand, then took a drag.
“Don’t inhale—” Logan started but you had already inhaled the smoke, a sharp pain stabbing you in the chest as soon as you did. Logan pulled over and through the coughs, you realized you were right in front of your apartment but you couldn’t even thank him as you pounded your chest with your fist, then took a deep breath and wiped at your eyes with one hand while handing him the cigar back with the other.
“Ugh, that’s terrible!” you whined. “You smoke that willingly?”
“You’re not supposed to inhale it.”
You made a face and wiped at your eyes again, sniffling.
“Not supposed to inhale it?” you repeated as you straightened your back to look at him better, your brows pulled together in almost a petulant manner. “What’s the point of it then?”
The calm smile that graced his lips was almost taunting and he reached out to wipe at the remnant of a tear under your eye with a knuckle, your breath catching in your throat.
“The taste, princess,” he said, his deep voice sending an excited shiver down your spine as he pulled his hand back. “The taste is the point.”
…Oh.
Oh you were so going to melt in front of him one of these days.
That wasn’t supposed to sound as suggestive as it did, you were sure of it but that did nothing to stop the fire spreading over your cheeks, making you shift a little in your spot before he nodded to the window.
“Is this your place?”
You had to force yourself to drag your eyes away from him and looked outside even if you knew where you were, then nodded fervently.
“Yeah!” you said. “Yeah that’s—that’s me.”
A silence fell upon the car and you cleared your throat, trying to snap out of the daze you were in.
“Thank you,” you said after a beat. “For…for all of this, really.”
“Don’t mention it,” he said and you looked outside again, now realizing the rain had stopped so you grabbed your phone off the dashboard, unbuckled your seatbelt and slipped the jacket off your shoulders, his unwavering gaze almost too hot on your skin.
“Good night Logan,” you said softly and opened your door to step out of the car, then made your way to the building. You climbed up the stairs, a giggle you couldn’t stop escaping from your lips as you unlocked your door, then stepped into your apartment and closed the door behind you before leaning back against it.
“Alright…” you breathed out, your heart beating in your ears. “Yeah, okay. I definitely have a crush.”
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eleganzadellarosa · 2 days
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Forgive and Forget
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pairing: mingyu x fem!reader
genre: smut (fluff if you pat your head and rub your stomach)
warnings: MDNI!!! (size kink (sorry I can’t help it, he’s just so big 😍), oral (f receiving), slight manhandling, breeding, lots of cum)
word count: will update later
A/N: it’s about that time yall, he always slithers into my brain at some point in time 🙄💕it took everything in me to not throw in some dacryphilia, the parasites in me really wanted to. Honestly I have nothing else to say except enjoy and thanks for reading :)
You’re far too in it to remember what the argument was about, but you knew you were right. It wasn’t often that you and Mingyu had disagreements of this caliber, most of the time they were “friendly”. Right now you’re angry, very angry actually, over something that you still don’t remember but you’re making sense and he’s clearly in the wrong. He raised his voice at you and vice versa, the argument was pretty heated but that was as far as it would ever go.
“You’re not even acknowledging that you’re wrong right now Gyu and you know you are!” Your finger was pointed but you were more so pointing at the space around him than at the actual person.
“Baby it doesn’t even matter, I know I’m wrong I just don’t like what you said!
He knew he upset you but the things you were blaming him for weren’t true and that’s kind of how the argument started; he just wanted to clear his name. You were so infuriating at times like these, standing your ground and not taking no for an answer.
“Fine whatever! I’m over this!” You threw your hands up and went to walk away but he grabbed you by the arm, pulling you back toward him.
He first caught you by the waist then held your face in his hands. You looked so pretty all the time, even when you were angry. He hated fighting with you, it made his heart ache and he always subconsciously thought you hated him a bit every time it was over. He knew that was a stupid idea and way to feel because you obviously loved him but he couldn’t help but be nervous. You couldn’t hate him, it would tear him up from the inside.
“Baby I’m sorry, you know I didn’t mean to make you upset right?” He rubbed your cheeks with his thumbs.
Your heart softened seeing the slight pout on his face. You didn’t like it either; raising your voice at each other as if you had no love in your hearts. “Mm” a small whimper of agreement leaving your throat because if you spoke, maybe your eyes would start to water.
“You forgive me? Hmm?” He kissed the top of your nose and touched his forehead to yours. When you nodded and he saw the early glimmers of tears in your eyes, he got down on his knees. “You sure? I won’t know unless you say it.” He ran the edge of his nails up the back of your thighs; you forgot you wore this little skirt.
Your cheeks were burning and no thoughts ran through your head as you watched this man who was obviously bigger than you, beg for your forgiveness on his knees as if you were the keeper of his soul. You were always weak to those puppy eyes he would give you so unintentionally but that only signified just how desperate he was to hear what he needed in order to feel better. He was kissing at your stomach now, one hand still on your thigh and the other under your shirt.
“Of course I forgive you Gyu.”
“Really baby? You don’t hate me?”
Hate him? You could never hate him; he never gave you reason to. “Why would hate you Gyu? I love you so much.” You gently caressed his face with your hand.
That put a smile on his face and he wrapped his big arms around your waist and rested his chin where his lips previously laid. “You gonna let me make it up to you?”
That sparkle in his eyes; going from desperate to happiness, now to a mixture of lust and excitement. “You don’t have to do that Gyu, it’s okay.”
“Pleeeease? I’ll make you feel so good baby, I promise.”
Your heart beat thumped in your entire body; your neck, your fingertips, your chest, you were suddenly aware how fast it was going. “Okay, but only if you want t-“
He was already pushing you against the nearest wall, still on his knees. He slid that tiny little skirt he loved so much down your legs along with your panties and draped a leg over his shoulder. He tapped on the other one to get you to let him do the same. He was sturdy, a big wide frame for you to comfortably rest your jelly like legs as he settled his tongue right between your juicy folds. He was so good at getting you wet, or maybe you just couldn’t help it.
He was right, you did feel good. Your hands tangled in his fluffy hair, back arched and head leaned back against the wall. You weren’t going anywhere but he had a tight grip over your thighs to keep you still while he got to work. Flat tongue exploring every inch of your dripping pussy. He made rough circles over your clit, stopping to suck on it every now and again. He was enjoying himself; grunting, moaning, whimpering at the taste of you flooding his tastebuds. Nothing was sweeter than you, nothing made his body feel like it was on fire like you did.
Toes curled and thighs shaking, you were close to what was to obviously come. “G-Gyu, gonna cum.”
There he was again, looking up at you with those same eyes that crumbled you into a bunch of tiny pieces. He grabbed higher on your thighs, bringing your pussy closer to him, sticking his tongue as deep as it could go. His fingertips dug into the flesh of your ass, your hands tugging on his hair slightly. His nose pressed against your clit and that along with everything else pushed you over the edge.
He loved being the one to get you like this. To be the only one tasting you in your most vulnerable form. He was twitching in the pants he wore; you were absolutely lethal. When you came down from your high, he gently let your legs down and stood up; chin and lips glistening. He smiled at you when you stood on your still wobbly legs. You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him down for a sloppy kiss. His hands rested on your ass until he lifted you so that your legs wrapped around his waist.
He carried you to the bed, still kissing you and placed you on your stomach. You were left in nothing but your top, your bottom half on full display. You looked over your shoulder and watched as he removed everything until he was left in nothing but his skin. He was behind you now, propping you up on your knees so that his fat head could rub against your entrance. He grabbed your hips and slid in; hissing as he reached the hilt. Breathing heavily, he slowly built up a momentum, rocking his hips faster and faster.
“Mmm Gyu, feels so good…”
“Hmm? Feels good baby? Want more?”
He didn’t have to see you nod, your hips bucked back to meet his thrusts; just a way to tell him you needed more. Your walls sucked him in, inviting him to have no boundaries and to fuck you to his heart’s desire.
“Love you so much, don’t wanna fight no more.” His thrusts were quick now, fat dick stretching you out so deliciously.
No words could accurately describe how amazing it felt to be under him. So big and so heavy in all the right amounts. To have your face in the mattress while he grabbed at you as if you would slip away. He leaned forward, hands sliding under your shirt to fondle your breasts. His hands were soft, big but rough and mean all at the same time.
“Love you Gyu…love youuuu” you were moaning and whimpering; it all felt too good and your body felt tingly.
Your voice so pretty too, letting him hear how good he made you feel. He was no match for you, he couldn’t go on much longer before he wanted to fill you up just so he could hear you some more. He was addicted.
“Love you baby, love this warm pussy too, love everything. Wanna give you more. Wanna give you it all.” He wrapped his arms around you, trapping yours at your chest while he rut into you like a dog in heat.
Absolutely perfect, all of it. You loved how even though he could easily crush you, he made sure to use his size to protect your smaller body. He was getting so deep at the angle, a huge creamy mess forming at the base of his dick. His knees were between yours to keep you nice and spread for him.
“P-please Gyu…want it” your voice slightly higher pitched than it was earlier or better described as: the way your voice would change when you couldn’t take it anymore and needed to cum.
He sped up, thrusts so deep and fast, tip bullying your cervix. He squeezed you a bit tighter, prepping you and him for the massive load he was going to release. He was panting in your ear, breath warm and tickly. This only caused your pussy to flutter, walls clenching down on him. It was turning his pants into moans; gosh he was so close but so were you. You kissed at his bicep closest to you and it drove him crazy; you drove him crazy.
“Fuck, baby can’t hold it…gonna fill you up.”
And fill you up he did. A few more thrusts and his warm cum flooded your walls, slipping out and dripping down your thighs. You were both still moaning as you came down from your highs. He freed you from his trap and laid down next to you. Neither of you had the energy to move, panting heavily as the effects wore off. He built up the strength to pull you close to him because he couldn’t deal with you being so far.
“I’m sorry Gyu, I didn’t mean to yell at you and accuse you of all those things.”
He stroked your hair and kissed your forehead, “It’s okay baby I know, we don’t have to talk about that. Just lay here with me okay?”
Soon the silence engulfed you both and slipped you into a peaceful slumber.
Would y’all forgive him? 👀
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midday-clouds · 2 days
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Yandere Batfamily x Neglected & "Immortal" Reader 》
There are many yandere batfam x neglected reader but I can't get enough of them--- So here is a silly story idea I have
I don't go into too much detail about how the reader is immortal but I'll probably share about it another timeee
CW: Neglect, Self-Degrading, Kidnapping, Violence(Being shot at)
Reader is a product of a hookup between Bruce and some random other woman, your mom
You and your mom had a decent relationship. The two of you would help each other out and have fun playing games. You were so content without knowing who your father was.
Your world begins to collapse when your mom doesn’t come home one day. A bunch of strange people suddenly come into your house and drag you out. You never understood what happened that day besides that you were now alone.
After your mother is announced dead, you find out that you are related to the millionaire, Bruce Wayne. You don’t know much about him but still find yourself put on the Wayne Manor's doorstep
Bruce had just gone through the loss of Jason and had just taken Tim in. He would have happily made some space in his schedule but a case always comes up and makes him forget about you.
Due to Bruce being too busy, you never properly mourned for your mother. Alfred would try to help you but you needed your dad.
For the first week, you locked yourself in your room, almost immediately forgotten by the rest of the family. Alfred would bring meals to your room, knowing that you aren't ready for any sort of interaction in this state. 
Alfred tries to convince Bruce to prioritize your health but there is always a case that takes up all of his attention
After that first week, you become comfortable enough to try and get out of your room at least.
With you around the manor more, the family begins to see them more often but not enough to care.
All of them were busy being vigilantes and weren’t interested in connecting with you. Sure, don't mean to neglect you, but some criminals just don't know when to stop
This worsens your mental state, making them regret not trying to bond with their family earlier. If they had tried in the beginning, then maybe they would have made connections with your new family. Now it feels like they've lost their chance
Alfred would do his best to comfort you but he could only help so much.
When you met Dick, it was when he was stopping by to talk to Bruce. You both had a fun conversation together but that was it.
After that first interaction, you tried to talk to Dick more often when he stopped by, but it seems the first time was just lucky. Dick always had something that didn't allow for a quick chat,
Meeting Jason was honestly terrifying. You were in the kitchen when you heard some noise from outside. It's dark outside so you walk up to the window to see what the sound was
Because of the darkness outside and lights inside, you mainly just see your reflection when looking outside
You squint your eyes to try to see past the reflection when a red helmet pops up and frightened you
Falling onto the ground, you stare in shock at seeing the stranger open the window and step inside
Jason tries to relax your nerves by taking off his helmet, showing he isn't a threat. It doesn't help much when you don't even know who he is
He explains himself after seeing your confused look and you both end up having a small conversation. It was nice until Bruce came in and pulled Jason away.
You never seem to meet Jason again
There were very few instances where you interacted with Tim. Even though you lived in the same house, Tim was always busy.
You’d both exchange small greetings when seeing each other in the hall but that was it. You didn't want to disturb him so you never stopped by his room
you hoped that when Tim had free time, the two could hang out. However, Tim always made plans that you couldn't fit into
Sometimes you would hear that Tim has been playing a game with his friends and you would play it but by yourself.
After a couple of years, Damian enters the family and you were so excited
Because Damian was new to the family, you thought it would be the perfect opportunity to bond with him
That didn't go well. He almost stabbed you
Your opinion of Damian was quick to go sour.
Damian's acts to show authority have gotten you scared of walking around the manor and frightened of animals. Specifically Titus.
It is quite unfortunate as you love animals and to have a dog in the family would bring you so much joy. Too bad Titus has attacked and chased you on multiple occasions
You didn't know what to do with the violence Damian had been taking out on you. You don't feel comfortable talking to Bruce and don't want to bother Alfred. This leads to you bottling up your emotions and locking yourself in your room
During your time, you spent reflecting on your life. Being in the manor isn't helping your mental health so it would be good to go outside more. Due to your constant attempts to bond with your family, you don't spend too much time with your friends from school
Seeing this as another perfect opportunity, you make plans with your friends to get out of the house and have a bit of self-care
Once the day comes, you quickly pack a small backpack and leave the house, only leaving a note for Alfred that says where you're at.
Finally getting some “fresh” air and being surrounded by those who feel more like family than your real family
You all have the best day and make plans for more get-togethers. 
It may not be the safest to be out so often but you’ve lived in Gotham your whole life, you know the safety procedures to stay safe. There isn't much news on you so people don't even recognize you as Bruce’s kid
Of course, something had to happen
You and your friends had just finished a fun day and you realize that your bike was stolen, meaning you don't have a way home. Your friends offered to take you home but you declined out of politeness. If something does go wrong, you ask your friends to call you to check up on you
Your walk home is longer than expected and it’s getting darker. As you walk through the streets of Gotham, you’re suddenly pulled into an alley and are threatened with a gun
There a three masked guys and one of them seems to have recognized you as Bruce’s kid, changing their plan to use you for ransom
You’re knocked out and taken to an abandoned building where you’re tied up to a pipe in the back
The kidnappers have a ransom letter and take it to the Wayne manor, including the small backpack you carried around
Unfortunately, Alfred was on his month-long vacation and Bruce was the one to receive the letter
He takes the time to contact "all" his kids and they're all perfectly fine and he doesn't recognize the backpack that was sent with the letter. There was a wallet but no ID card of any kind. The letter also didn't have a name on it.
Bruce brings up the case to the rest of the family but they agree that it may be a scam. 
The letter was likely from some desperate person who was trying to trick Bruce into giving money so it was put on the side while the family worked on a bigger case. 
Because of this, you’re held hostage for an unknown amount of days before the kidnappers get tired of waiting and shoot you in the gut out of frustration 
You’re filled with immense pain from the bullet before darkness consumes you.
More days pass before you wake up, still tied to a pipe and blood stained clothes
It seems your kidnappers had left your body behind rather than getting rid of it. You’ve been struggling with the rope since you have been taken and it was paying off because you can see that you can almost get your hands free.
Once you're out of the building, it is midnight. You immediately run back to the manor the moment you find a family path.
No one is there to notice you make your way back to your room. Because of how long it's been, you don't leave a trail of blood. Maybe some dirt but hopefully it won't be too hard to clean up
You debate on what action to take next. Looking in the mirror, the injury from the bullet is gone and you don't want to go to the hospital
One thing that is clear though is that you are extremely hungry and how dirty you feel. With this on your mind, you do your best to clean yourself up before going down to the kitchen
You don't feel comfortable talking to anyone so thankfully the rest of the family is busy at night,
Once you are sure no one is around, you take a bunch of snacks and hurry back to your room
In your room, you eat everything until you finally feel full. Hopefully, you don't just throw everything up because it feels so nice to finally have something in your stomach
Your nerves begin to relax and you truly take in the events that happened
How are they still alive? They were shot at and haven't had food for half a month. What happened? Did Bruce not get the ransom letter? Why did no one save you? Did your friends call you?
Quickly remembering your friends, you look for your phone but are unable to find it. Not wanting to worry your friends, you open up your laptop to contact your friends through there. You see that you've gotten multiple calls and messages from your friends and it honestly makes you happy, knowing that there were people that worried and cared about you. You quickly text your friends and tell them what happened (Not mentioning how you survived being shot)
During your chat, the topic changes to college stuff. Your senior year has just ended a couple of weeks ago and it would be good for you to move out and be closer to those that make you happy. Also, after the kidnapping, you don’t want to be near your current family. They were the reason you were kidnapped and didn’t even bother to help you
Your friends suggest going to college outside of Gotham, perhaps in Bludhaven.
After many years of being stuck in a family that does nothing but hurt you, you got an acceptance letter for a school in Bludhaven. You were so happy and had a small celebration with your friends. Unfortunately, none of your friends would be joining you but you couldn’t wait to truly be free. 
Alfred returns from his vacation and reviews all the work that he left behind, along with Bruce’s mail. He knows Bruce has likely already reviewed them but it helps Alfred get back on pace with his work
He finds the discarded ransom letter and immediately checks up on you.
When he goes to your room, he finds the room empty besides some items that you weren’t planning to bring to college with you. This worries Alfred more and goes to Bruce’s office to confront him about the letter.
Bruce is filled with immense guilt when he realizes he forgot that you existed and now you could be dead in an abandoned building. Him and the rest of your family completely forgot about you
Bruce has an emergency meeting with everyone where he explains the situation. Once a plan is set, they all go out in the night to find you. However, they only find loose restraints with dried-up blood and a broken phone.
When the family returns to the manor, Tim goes to his room to fix the phone, Bruce and Damian go to the Batcave to review the cameras, Dick and Jason decide to visit your room
With Alfred’s help, Dick and Jason find your room and take a look around. It isn’t the biggest and barely has anything in it. 
Jason finds some old and filled journals and looks through them. There is a checklist for school work, notes to yourself, and personal entries. He understands the emotions you put in your journal and wants to protect you. Especially when he reads your last entry about your kidnapping 
Dick looks at the decorations you have on the wall. There are some glow-in-the-dark stars, some posters from school events, etc. One of the posters is for a theater show and he wonders if you were a part of it. Either an actor or tech person, Dick wonders why he never heard about your shows. He attempts to take a poster off the wall but the tape used peeled some of the paint off the wall.
Bruce loads up the camera and looks at what happened the day the ransom letter was given to Bruce. You had this happy smile as you made sure you had everything you needed before going through the front door. About a week later, Bruce sees you on the camera, in bloodied clothes and completely exhausted. This brings a wave of relief to Bruce while Damian looks closely at the camera footage. The front of your shirt is covered in blood and has a hole in it, but you seem completely uninjured. 
The last thing the two see of you is you slowly taking your stuff out of the manor and officially moving out
Bruce and Damian find your room to update Dick and Jason on their findings.
They’re thankful that you’re alive but still need to see you in the flesh. Looking around your bedroom, there aren't many clues about where you have gone. 
Tim takes a few days to fix the damage on your phone. At the very least, he needs to save the data that was kept on the phone. After messing with a few parts of your phone, he transfers all the data to his computers.
Once everything is saved, Tim lets his curiosity get the best of him and looks through all of your stuff before informing the rest of the family. All your photos, text messages, etc. He sees all the calls and voicemails your friends sent you on the day you were kidnapped.
Tim continues to learn more about your interests and your efforts to spend time with the family. You ranting to your friends about only playing a game or reading a book because someone in the family has read or played it.
Tim ends up having a copy of all your data for personal use before speaking to the rest of the family
Your phone is finally fixed and Tim can use it to find the location of your laptop. All the way in Bludhaven
With new hope, the family begins their search for you
They just need to take you home and keep you safe
Forever
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iamgonnagetyouback · 18 hours
Text
𝟷𝚔 || 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊
♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You go through a whirlwind of emotions when drunk.
♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: drunk!reader, Reader annoying Sirius
♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: James Potter x drunk!Reader
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You were slumped between James and Sirius, giggling uncontrollably, your legs swinging off the armrest of the couch as you hiccuped. The room was warm, and everything felt so funny. Especially Sirius's hair.
"You know what, Pads?" you slurred, poking Sirius in the cheek. "You look like a... a giant poodle. But a mean one. Like, the poodles at the dog shows that bite people."
Sirius's jaw dropped. “A poodle? You—no, absolutely not. I am—what did you say I was, James?”
James was trying not to laugh. "Uh, majestic, I think."
"Majestic!" Sirius pointed at you dramatically, like that would prove his point.
You snorted so hard you almost fell off the couch, but James caught you, his arm wrapping around your waist and steadying you. "Sure, sure, 'Padfoot the Majestic Poodle.'"
"It's mostly because of your hair—" you giggled, reaching out to pat the top of his head, missing entirely and booping his nose instead. "It's so fluffy, like a big, angry puppy!"
Sirius frowned, swatting your hand away dramatically. "I am not a dog, and my hair is majestic, thank you very much."
"Fluffy," you repeated, poking him in the cheek now. "Sirius, fluffy like a… like a poodle!"
James tried to hold back a laugh as Sirius looked properly offended, folding his arms with a huff. "Are you serious?"
You snorted at his pun. "No, you’re Sirius!"
Remus groaned from beside Peter. "Oh no. Not this again."
Peter shook his head, barely holding back his own giggles. "Here we go…"
“Are you lot serious right now?” Sirius grumbled, crossing his arms. “A poodle. Really.”
“Sirius is serious,” you added, and then cracked up at your own joke. “Sirius is Sirius—wait, Remus, did you hear that? It’s his name.”
Remus rolled his eyes, but there was a smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, we got it.”
“But I’m not a poodle,” Sirius muttered, still offended, while you continued to giggle.
James still eyed the bottle of firewhiskey in your hand like he wanted to take it away. Not that you noticed. Nope. You were too busy trying to poke Sirius in the cheek.
“You’ve got—got something there,” you slurred, leaning in far too close to Sirius’s face.
“What? Where?” Sirius asked, looking genuinely concerned as he wiped at his cheek. “Did I get dirt on me?”
“Yeah, it’s called your face,” you giggled, falling back onto James and laughing like it was the funniest thing you’d ever said.
Sirius gasped dramatically, hand over his heart. “How dare you! James, do you hear this? Your girlfriend is cruel.”
You waved him off, turning your attention back to James, who was trying not to smile. “He’s just mad ‘cause he’s not as pretty as you,” you said, squinting up at James like you were stating the most obvious fact in the world. You reached out and patted his face, a little too hard. “So. Pretty.”
James chuckled, grabbing your hand before you could slap him again. “Alright, love, I think you’ve had enough for one night.”
“Noooooo,” you whined, stretching out the word. “M’fine, Jamie. Look! I can sit up perfectly straight.” You immediately leaned to the side, almost toppling over onto Peter, who yelped and quickly scooted out of the way.
“Maybe… maybe a little too much,” Remus said from beside Peter, watching with raised eyebrows.
“Remus!” you called, throwing your arms out toward him. “You’re so boring, you know that?”
“Hey, I like boring,” Peter mumbled from his chair, crossing his arms.
“Yeah, Wormtail likes boring!” you repeated, pointing to Peter like he was your greatest proof.
You sat up suddenly, looking around the room, eyes wide and dramatic. “Wait. Wait. You guys can’t ever leave me, okay? Promise.”
The Marauders exchanged confused looks. “Uh—okay?” Peter said hesitantly.
“I’m serious—not like Sirius serious—" you hiccuped, "But you guys can’t leave. We have to stay friends forever or I’ll—I’ll hex all of you!” You threw your hands up, trying to look menacing, but it came off more like a flailing octopus.
James quickly wrapped his arms around you as you dramatically collapsed into his chest. “Love, we’re not going anywhere.”
“Speak for yourself,” Sirius muttered, though he was still looking somewhat offended by your earlier insult. “I don’t think I can handle another ‘your face is the problem’ comment.”
But you weren’t having it. You pointed a shaky finger at them, wobbling slightly. “You better not, Sirius Black! Or I’ll—” You narrowed your eyes dramatically, trying to look intimidating. “I’ll hex you into next week! I know spells, you know!”
James bit his lip, trying not to laugh as Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? What spells?”
“Spells!” you repeated, waving your hands in the air as if that was a valid explanation. “Dangerous ones!”
Peter snorted. “I’m terrified.”
Sirius held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright! Merlin, you’re scary when you’re drunk.”
“Good,” you said, immediately softening. “Because I love you guys, even though Sirius is a poodle, and Remus won’t laugh at my jokes, and Peter—well, Pete, you’re just so cute, aren’t you?”
“Thanks,” Peter mumbled.
Tears welled up in your eyes, and you reached out, pulling all of them into a big, awkward group hug. “I just love you guys, okay? Don’t leave me… ever.”
James chuckled, his hand warm on your back. "Alright, let's get you to bed, yeah?"
“I don’t wanna go to bed,” you pouted, leaning into James like a rag doll. “I wanna stay here and annoy Sirius more.”
“I’m not listening to this nonsense,” Sirius huffed, throwing his hands up.
“Oh, but Sirius—don’t you wanna cuddle like a big, fluffy dog?” you teased, blinking innocently.
He narrowed his eyes. “You’re going to regret this in the morning.”
James stood up, pulling you gently with him. “C’mon, love, you’re barely standing.”
“Wait, no, no, no—you're all amazing, even you, Remus, boring and all.” You paused, eyes widening as if you had just realized something horrible. “Wait—don’t ever leave me, guys.”
Your lower lip started to wobble.
“Don’t leave me! You can’t! What if you just disappeared? Poof! Gone! And I’m all alone. I’ll die. I’ll actually die.”
James squeezed your hand, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “I think you’re driving everyone mad, love.”
You looked up at him, beaming. “But not you, right, Jamie?” you gushed, running your fingers through his messy hair, making it even worse. “You’re perfect, James Potter. Like… a Quidditch god! And your glasses are so… shiny.”
Sirius fake gagged. “Ugh, I’m gonna be sick.”
“Shush, poodle!” you shot back at him, your words blending together into a cute mess of slurs. “You’re just jealous ‘cause James is my shiny glasses boy.”
Remus rolled his eyes, but there was a fond smile tugging at his lips. Peter was full-on laughing now, while James was just gazing at you, completely smitten.
You huffed but allowed him to help you stand. “You’re the best, James,” you said, leaning heavily on him as he started to guide you toward the stairs.
“You’re pretty great yourself,” James chuckled, tightening his grip on your waist so you wouldn’t stumble.
Just before you reached the dormitory, you stopped, looking up at him with bleary eyes. “No, really, Jamie. You’re the best. Don’t ever change.”
James grinned down at you, his heart melting a little. “I won’t, love. Now let’s get you to bed before you start threatening to hex me too.”
You smiled sleepily, letting your head rest on his shoulder. “I’d never hex you. You’re too pretty.”
And with that, you were out, leaving James with a fond smile and the rest of the Marauders shaking their heads behind him.
Downstairs, Sirius was still sulking. “A poodle… unbelievable.”
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i love drunk!reader so much!!
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roosterforme · 3 days
Note
Okay, but how about the first time Jake and Darling have a fight? How would that go?
I really like your stories bc while it is fiction, I feel like you show every aspect of a relationship, not only the good parts.
🩷
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OMG, nonny. I'm swooning. I try to make my stories realistic (as much as they can be for fanfic). Nobody is happy and confident all the time. Everyone is stressed about something. Relationships are hard work, and dealing with someone else is sometimes weird and annoying. So thank you, I appreciate that so much.
Jake and Darlin' argue all the time about all the small things in life. They have different opinions on a lot of things, but it's never usually anything they remember by the next day. I think their first big fight would happen shortly after she moves in with him, just after she graduates from school and starts her new job. (angsty below).
"I had the longest day at work," you muttered, shoveling the last bite of the dinner Jake made into your mouth. You set your fork down and stretched as you stood. This whole week was dragging. You realized you were probably complaining more than usual, but you were just over it. "Let's go take a bath and just go to bed. I'll clean up tomorrow morning."
Jake looked at you, his lips pressed into a firm line. "Go ahead. I'll clean it up."
You reached for his hand, but he was already stacking the plates. "You cooked. I don't want you to clean up. I'll do it later," you reiterated.
"Just go get in the bath," he snapped, carrying everything back to the kitchen.
"I don't want to take a bath without you!"
Jake dumped everything into the sink and spun around. "You're not the only one who's working full-time, but you're certainly acting like it."
With narrowed eyes, you asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"
Jake took a deep, practiced breath and let it out slowly. "I know you're tired, but it would be nice for you to acknowledge that I work longer hours than you do. So just go relax in the bath by yourself while I clean up."
"Well, now I don't want to!" You were suddenly so angry, you couldn't see straight, and you also wanted to cry. "You're treating me like a child!"
"You're acting like one."
His words hurt you more than a slap across your cheek would have, and your jaw dropped open. But then his next sentence made it even worse.
"In my house no less."
"Wow," you gasped, turning and running toward the bedroom as you started crying. It wasn't like you weren't paying to be here. You knew it wasn't much, but you had been insistant about giving Jake five hundred dollars per month. And for what? So he could act like you were an unwanted guest?
You ran into the bathroom and slammed the door behind you before you curled up on the tub mat on the floor and sobbed. Work wasn't like school. Trying to figure out how you fit in with your coworkers was exhausting, and you were still learning all the ropes. You drove back here every day mentally drained, and up until tonight, Jake was always the one who seemed willing to listen. You should have just cleaned up the kitchen, because now you felt like you didn't belong anywhere.
"Darlin'." Jake's voice was as sharp as his knock on the door. You tried to dry your tears, but it wasn't working, and maybe you really were a child compared to your boyfriend. "Darlin'!"
"It's not even locked!" you shouted, but it came out as weak as you felt. Jake opened the door, and in an instant, he was curled up on the floor with you, pulling you into his arms.
"Fuck. I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry I acted like an asshole." You tried to wriggle away from him, but he wouldn't let you. "I think I'm more exhausted this week than I'd like to admit, and I shouldn't have taken it out on you."
In spite of the fact that you were on the floor crying, you mustered up the courage to whisper, "I'm not a child."
"You're an adult," he said firmly. "An adult who just started a very impressive job. You're holding it together better than I did when I was in flight school." He kissed your forehead. "And you're absolutely right. We should have just climbed in our bathtub and then gone right to our bed. The fucking dishes do not matter right now. They can sit in our kitchen sink until whenever the fuck we feel like cleaning up."
Jake rubbed slow, soothing circles against your lower back until you were all cried out. If you thought you were tired before, it was nothing compared to how wrung out you felt now. You wanted to put forth a peace offering and just get up and clean the kitchen, but his lips were on your damp cheek and his voice was in your ear. "I love you, Darlin'. It has been a long week for both of us. I would like nothing more than to climb in a hot bath with you, relax until the water gets cold, and then get in our bed and go to sleep."
You nodded and started the water while he got two towels ready, and then both of you undressed. Jake kissed your bare shoulder and held you while the tub filled. "You belong here," he whispered. "I don't want you anywhere other than our house."
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darnell-la · 18 hours
Text
𝗜'𝗟𝗟 𝗚𝗜𝗩𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗪𝗔𝗡𝗧
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pairing: old man!logan howlett x young female!reader
warnings: staring, rude people in public, Logan with no emotion, begging, oral (male receiving), riding, doggy, neck kisses, slightly forced cream pie, multiple orgasm, moans from both sides, very rough sex, angry animalistic Logan, etc.
request: Hi! I love your work, Could I request Oldman!Logan x young fem!reader (22 years) that has a baby fever and really wants to have Logan's baby (also to shut the mouths of those who make fun of her dating an older man), she decides to prepare a surprise for him so that he can get her pregnant soon. Reader is needy and Logan is rude.
note: Logan as always is mean and an over-thinker, but he can’t seem to not give what his perfect girl wants. A breeding session.
teaser - Logan gets kinda subby in here. can’t stop cumming…
———
How do you guys feel about an X-Men story with the reader? Logan is rude Logan at first, then slowly shows small affection towards the reader. Jealousy and things of that sort. They soon hit it off, and after Logan starts acting rude again because he’s scared of the love he grew for her. It’ll be a long story, but something to read at night. ALL ON WATTPAD! Comment below, please!
———
“Stop gettin’ in your feelings, Bub. They ain’t gon stop,” Logan said, talking about the people looking their way in the expensive restaurant Logan decided to take y/n out at.
“But, isn’t it rude? Why do they care so much about who I’m with? Or who you’re with!?” Y/n tried whispering and keeping her facial expressions normal. She didn’t want them to know she was bothered, but it wasn’t hard to see.
“Just relax, Bub — Ain’t nun gon happen with a few eyes lookin’ attcha,” Logan had picked up the menu to continue searching through what he wanted to order for himself and his girl.
“Are you two ready, or shall you get more time?” The man asked in an accent that made Logan roll his eyes. “Just appetizers for now. Gonna get the cheese bites with a side of marinara sauce, and two Caesar salads,”
“And drinks?” The waiter asked as he looked at y/n, wanting to hear the young lady talk as he was done listening to the older grumpy man.
“I’ll have a whiskey, no ice, and she’ll have water for now,” Logan ordered for her, eyes still on the menu as y/n faked a bright smile on her face so at least one of them looked like they wanted to be here.
“Are you sure that’s all you want? We have a lot of cocktails. Even mocktails if you’re not feeling alcohol going lady,” Logan laughed at the small sign the water gave. They always go.
“She’s fine, trust me,” Logan said, leaning his girl from head to toe. He knew her like a book. He knew her life at the back of his hands. He loved showing it too.
“I’m fine, thank you,” y/n smiled at the man as he looked at Logan. He wanted to speak, say something, but he couldn’t. Logan wasn’t actually doing anything to make the man complain.
“Get a load of that guy,” y/n rolled her eyes as he walked off. “Yep,” Logan said, not really caring. “Why are you always so calm? He was disrespecting us. Disrespecting you,” y/n said, confused about why the man never cared.
“I’m still alive, aren’t I? You’re making it seem like that fetus of a man shot at me,” y/n rolled her eyes and sat back as she crossed her arms, upset at the lack of care Logan had. She felt like she was the only one who cared about things.
Throughout the night, Logan made small talk with y/n to ease her mood. She tried to stay upset at the man, but the hand grabs, foot nudges, and complements made her melt
“Said you had a surprise for me, Bub?” Logan asked as the two made it into the hotel that Logan bought for the night. The top floor had a good view, a view he knew y/n would love.
“Yeah, but I thought we were going back to the house,” y/n pouted, a bit tipsy as Logan carried her through the door. “I know, and I apologize, princess. If you left it at the house, you can give it to me tomorrow. Or I can go get it now?” Logan suggested.
“No, no, you don’t have to do all that. I-I got it. I got it,” Y/n said as she kicked her heels off and walked towards the bed with Logan.
He had a few drinks, but that never affected him. She prayed it would tonight so she wouldn’t have to work hard, but she’ll deal with it.
Y/n knows Logan’s a hard one to crack, but the man loved her. He’s so anything for her, so a long session of begging or anything of that sort, would make him crack. Only for her.
“Get comfortable — I’ll be back,” Y/n said as she stumbled to the bathroom. Logan chuckled as he got undressed, already knowing y/n wanted to have sex. She always does, and he never says no.
Y/n didn’t take long to get stripped and walk out of the bathroom slowly. The lights were dim, and Logan sat up against the headboard of the bed, legs spread and waiting for his perfect girl.
“I-I know you’re against it, and I know you always shut me down, but tonight is special. I-I really, really want you tonight,” Y/n said, slowly crawling on the bed as Logan’s chest rose.
“You always get me, Bub, so what’s there to beg about?” Logan said as he rubbed his thighs. “I want you to cum in me,” y/n looked at him with those eyes he could barely say no to.
“Y/n, don’t start tonight. Ian tryna ruin the night,” Logan has rolled his eyes with a sigh. “Baby, please,” y/n begged, trailing her hands up his legs until they were mid-thigh.
“Keep beggin’ for that shit, and ima turn around and go to sleep,” Logan warned the girl, but she ignored him and put his cock in her hand. “C’mon, daddy, please,” y/n said, bringing out the word she used in once in a blue moon.
“Nah uh, get off, y/n. I told you what was gonna happen-“ Before he could finish, y/n wrapped her wet mouth around his tip, sucking down hard as her tongue moved up and down his slit.
“F-Fuck,” Logan’s legs shook as he gripped the sheets. “Y/n, remove your fucking mouth,” Logan demanded, but she ignored him, looking into his angry dark eyes as she slipped down onto his cock, taking all the inches in that she could.
“Y-Y/n!” The man groaned loudly, hips bucking as his hand went to her hair, pulling her up to get her off, but not strong enough. He was physically stronger than her, so she knew if he wanted her off, he’d get her off.
“Fuckin- Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ bad,” Logan said as his other hand cupped her cheek. “But you take my cock so well,” Logan admitted with a chuckle as he slowly began moving her head at a pace he wanted her to suck in.
“Always so fuckin’ needy — Needy little slut can’t just enjoy my cock. Always needs my cum to satisfy her,” Logan said, now moving his hips, allowing his cock to thrust up into her throat.
“That’s it, kid — Fuckin’ suck me up since you want it so bad. You ain’t gettin’ it in that cunt. You ain’t earn it yet,” Logan said, watching spit spill from her mouth.
Y/n did her best to look up and into his eyes. Her was glossy, streaming tears as he grew dark. He couldn’t hold back his deep groan at the sight of her taking his cock like this.
“Don’t fuckin’ look at me like that,” Logan said, getting angry at her. He hated how bad she was, but loved that she’d do anything to get what she wanted from him.
“Fuckin’ brat,” Logan growled, snapping his hips faster to make her gag and cough on his cock. Maybe if she was too busy trying to focus on taking him, she’d stop silently begging for him to breed her.
It’s not like the man didn’t want to. He was just insecure. Yeah, he and y/n had been dating for a while, but the people roaming about are right. At least that’s what he thought at the time.
What if he is too old for her? He’d basically be baby-trapping her if he gave her what she wanted. He swore she’d regret it.
He forced himself to think that way, but every time y/n took his cock, rather that was with her mouth, cunt, ass, or anything, she’s beg him to breed her. Something in him knew she wanted it, but the other part held him back.
“Fuck, y/n, stop it! Stop fucking looking at me like that!” Logan shouted at the girl, an animalistic tone slipping out as he fucked her throat.
Y/n didn’t stop. She continued, whether her eyes could barely stay on him or not, she kept looking up at him, begging him to breed her.
“Y/n, I can’t — I fucking can’t,” the man had thrown his head back, whining as he felt himself near. He’s me we did that before, but him trying to yell her no but also seeing her beg, was too much for him. He was overstimulated by his thoughts.
Y/n slapped Logan’s hands off of him and quickly crawled onto him. She grabbed his cock and aligned herself with him before sitting down.
The moan that escaped her mouth made his eyes widen. “F-Fuck, kid, stop it!” Logan said, but his hands came to her waist and kept her in place. She tried to bounce, but he didn’t even allow her to do that.
Logan’s feel curled as his fingernails dug into her sides, causing her to feel in pain, but also pleasure. “Do it, daddy, please,” was all had to say on his cock before he jumped over the edge.
Logan’s mouth parted as his whole body stuttered. No noises came from his mouth for a second as y/n felt his warm seed coat her walls.
“Yes! Yes, daddy, yes!” Y/n cried out with happiness before she buried her face into the crook of his neck, sucking into his skin hard. That pulled all of his groans and moans out.
Logan’s hands wrapped around the girl's back and waist, pulling her into his body as she grinned against his pelvis, letting her swollen bud feel all the affection it needed.
“Please, more, Logan. Please. Please,” y/n continued rubbing against him as her whole body felt numb. She was going to cum, and Logan knew it. Damn her.
“Fuck, kid — F-Fuck,” Logan’s legs kicked as he tried keeping himself in, but he couldn’t. She squeezed him so hard for him not to do what she’d been begging for, for the longest.
“Y/n,” Logan’s voice cracked as his nails broke the skin on the young girl's back and waist. “Yes, yes!” Y/n almost cried as her body kicked up and she came, sucking the man too hard. To damn hard.
Logan’s mouth parted once again as his eyes crossed, feeling too much pleasure as he spilled into y/n for the second time and took the love bites y/n gave him on his neck.
Logan was pissed. He was so damn pissed at y/n for not listening to him. He wanted to punish her, but how? How could he after he bred her? He wouldn’t be able to pull out. And fuck a condom. He was fucked. He broke the promise he kept to himself. He really fucking loves her to let her do this to him.
“You’re so fuckin’ bad, y/n,” Logan breathed out into y/n’s ear, alarming her. He wasn’t relaxed. He was angry. “You like gettin’ what you want?” The man asked as he slowly lifted y/n off of him. She was being held in the air.
“Then ima give you what you fucking want,” before y/n knew what he meant, the man flipped the two, allowing him to hover over her.
“S-Sorry, I just- I really needed you. I-I love you so much, and I-I — I want you to give me a baby. I-If you don’t want it, I-I’ll just take the plan b tomorrow. I promise,” y/n couldn’t stop stuttering.
She felt a slight fear. She knew how Logan got, and now that he’d already come in her, he’d be worse.
“Fuck that plan b. You wanna baby? Then deal with the fucking consequences,” Logan turned y/n around and forced her onto her hands and knees. Before she could process anything, he plunged into her.
“Fuuck!” Y/n screamed at the new angle and the hard thrust. “Shut the fuck up, and take it,” the man groaned as a hand came down on her ass. “Take my fuckin’ kid, since you wasn’t em so damn bad,” he added.
Y/n cried into the sheets, thinking he couldn’t fuck her hard until his claws came out. He’d never done this before, but she knew what he was up to.
The man’s claws punched into the wall right in front of the two. He gripped tightly, making sure he wasn’t going anywhere before he pounded her into the mattress.
The young girl's neck and back belt pain. He was breaking her and didn’t care. She wanted this.
“Lot,” y/n whined, not being able to say what she had to say. She was beyond fucked. “Don’t worry, Bub — You’re gonna make a damn good mom,” Logan said, making sure she knew he was up for this.
Y/n slightly smiled as her cunt quivered, finally letting out another orgasm as her eyes closed. “S-So good,” she said as she slipped away. “I know, baby — I know,” the man growled.
Logan never stopped his thrust, making sure she’d feel the soreness when she woke up. And the loads he was going to leave in her.
316 notes · View notes
eternalmoonlight18 · 3 days
Note
Hi! Can I request a shanks x fem reader where she’s a famous doctor who shanks is trying to recruit and he locates her in Sabaody. He thinks she’s like an old man or something but it turns out she’s shakky and rayleigh’s daughter (love at first sight situation)
thank you🩷🩷
WOAHHHH i love this request! thank you for requesting it anon! i hope i did it justice, i really enjoyed writing this hehe
An Apple a Day Keeps the Doctor Away
Akagami no Shanks x afab!reader
CW: mentions of doing the naughty if you squint. otherwise sfw!
wc: 2.4k
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A rumour spread across the Grand Line Paradise and into the New World that an infamous doctor poisoned and killed a Celestial Dragon on Mary Geoise. The doctor fled, of course, and the World Government was chasing that individual all across the seas.
While others argued that it was nothing but a rumour, Red Haired Shanks believed that it was very much real.
Leaning against the rails of the Red Force, he looked at his first mate, Benn Beckman, who was lighting up a cigarette.
"Say, Benn, I wanna meet this doctor. He's got the balls to poison and kill a Celestial Dragon and get away from it, so he earns my respect." he started.
The first mate gave a huff of smoke. "You believe someone did that? And even if he did do it, do you believe he's still alive?" he asked.
The red-haired captain hummed. "Ya know something, Benn? This world is full of surprises. I mean, look at Luffy! Who would've thought that little twerp we knew back then would become one of the most notorious pirates in this day and age?"
Benn chuckled. "I guess you're right. I have some intel from your fleets near Sabaody that the doctor is in hiding there. Shall we set course?" he asked.
A bright grin flashed on Shanks' face at the proposal. "Men!" he shouted. "Let's head to Sabaody for some fun!"
--------
The bright morning sun seeped into the room you were sleeping at. You groaned and tossed your head away from the light, hoping to go back to sleep. However, those plans were tossed out the window when you heard a gentle knock on the door.
"(Y/n) get up. Time for breakfast," a deep voice gently reprimanded.
Moaning in frustration, you kicked your sheets off the bed and sighed. "So early, old man? I wanna catch more sleep,"
A hearty chuckle echoed. "At your big age, and you're a freeloader, aren't you? Your mom isn't going to be happy that you're overstaying."
"Hey, I'm helping with the bar, okay? Unlike you, you drink every day, you damn alcoholic of a father." you snorted as you got up to open the door.
There stood your father, the infamous first mate to the Pirate King himself, Silvers Rayleigh. A small grin appeared on ur face as you looked up at your old man.
"You do know I'm on the run, right dad?" you pouted.
Rayleigh put a gentle hand on your shoulders and sighed. "You know, that was pretty reckless of you for killing that Celestial Dragon. You barely escaped."
A giggle passed through your lips. "That prick got what he deserved. What can I say? I'm the daughter of the one and only Silvers Rayleigh!"
"You may be my daughter, but it seems like you got your recklessness from your uncle Roger instead," he said, grinning as he remembered his old friend.
A soft sigh escaped your lungs. "I wish I was able to meet him; he would've been a great uncle."
Rayleigh and Shakky weren't your biological parents, but they found you stranded on the shore of Amazon Lily when you were ten years old. They decided to take you in as their child, and you've been with them ever since. Crocus, Roger's doctor, taught you everything you knew about medicine. You decided to use that knowledge to treat Celestial Dragons, much to the dismay of your parents and Crocus, but your underlying mission wasn't to heal them but to kill them off secretly. You managed to keep your relations with your parents a secret and created an alias for yourself, The Beaked Doctor, due to the dark robe and beaked mask you donned while you were a doctor on Mary Geoise.
And now you were no longer a doctor, on the run from the World Government, and leeching off your aging parents.
"I'm sure Roger would've loved you. Now, head down; your mother is waiting for you," he demanded.
You reluctantly listened and started to make your way downstairs before you heard some commotion from outside. You paused on the stairs and listened closely. The CP0 was in Sabaody looking for you. One of the Celestial Dragons was able to provide a brief description of your face unmasked. You groaned.
"I've overstayed my welcome. I'll leave tomorrow, but I need to gather some supplies before I leave." you sighed.
"It's fine. Just be careful out there later on." Rayleigh said as he made his way down the stairs. You followed suit and made your way to Shakky, who was behind the counter cleaning shot glasses.
"Hi, Mom," you greeted.
"Y/n, go eat breakfast," she said kindly as she took a huff from her cigarette.
"Maybe later. Gotta run some quick errands since I'm leaving tomorrow," you said.
Shakky put her hand on her cheek. "Leaving soon? I did enjoy your help around here, my dear."
You shook your head and laughed. "CP0 is here. As much as I'd love to stay, I can't stay and get you and the old man involved in my shit."
Your mom hummed as she continued to wipe shot glasses. "Alright. Take a robe and cover your face if you can. Don't worry about Rayeligh and I, we'll be okay."
You quickly grabbed a large robe and put the hood on. Before leaving the bar, you glanced at Rayleigh. "Hey, old man, tell mom to quit smoking. Gonna damage her lungs one of these days." you chimed.
A rumble of laughter escaped the man. "You know she won't listen to me. Besides, I've got a daughter who's an excellent doctor."
Shakky simply smiled and laughed at the conversation.
You laughed as you left the bar.
----------
As soon as Shanks stepped foot off of the Red Force, he could sense the tension in the air. Although usual business continued, the Red-Haired Pirates could sense that something was going on.
"Hey boss, just spotted a bunch of Marines near Grove 47. I also saw a CP agent wandering, too." Yassop lowly informed the captain.
Shanks briefly scanned the area and confirmed that Yassop was right. It only solidified his suspicions that the doctor was here.
"Alright, men, go stock up and enjoy yourselves. Since Marines and CP are here, we're only going to stay here for a night," he ordered.
Once the crew dispersed, the Red-Haired man started to stroll around the markets of Sabaody. As he looked around, he saw a hooded figure make its way into a Pharmacy. Intrigued, Shanks quickly followed them into the store and hung by the open entrance to listen in.
The shopkeeper with a weirdly long square nose greeted you with a hello once you entered the pharmacy. You quietly greeted back.
"Do you have any empty pills? I'm a medical student, and I need some for practice." You quietly asked.
The shopkeeper took a glance at you and nodded. "Sure thing, miss." He promptly headed to the back to get the supplies you needed.
You let out a soft sigh as the breath you were holding was let out. You noticed that someone had walked in and started browsing the shelves, but you paid no mind. Soon, the keeper came back out with the supplies in his hand and began to ring up the total. Once you placed the Berries on the counter, you began to promptly walk out of the store before the keeper spoke up.
"Have you seen the Beaked Doctor around here? Everyone's looking for them," he asked inquisitively.
You froze but didn't turn around. "Nope, no idea who that is." you squeaked.
You heard footsteps nearing you. Your heart started beating fast, and you wanted to run, but your feet were glued to the ground.
"That's a shame." the man called as you heard a revolver click. "Because there's a poster with her face plastered across town, and it looks exactly like you, doctor.
Before you realized what was happening, a strong arm pulled you down as you heard a gunshot ring throughout the building and into the streets of Sabaody. Stumbling on the floor, you saw a red-haired man glancing down at you with wide brown eyes.
Oh, he was gorgeous.
‐--------
As soon as he saw the shopkeeper, he knew that he was a CP0 agent. But what he couldn't understand was why the agent was undercover.
He quietly walked into the pharmacy and started to browse the shelves in an attempt to get more information. Once the keeper was back, the hooded figure and he made an exchange, then the hooded person proceeded to make their way out. But within a few seconds, the atmosphere went from relaxed to tense as he watched the keeper pull a gun at the mystery person.
"That's a shame." the man said as Shanks heard a revolver click. "Because there's a poster with her face plastered across town, and it looks exactly like you, doctor."
Doctor!
Shanks shot his head up in realization and acted fast. As soon as the undercover agent pressed the trigger, he quickly shoved the doctor down to the ground. The woman groaned, then looked up at him.
Shanks' breath hitched at the sight. The doctor wasn't some old man or careless, ugly medic; she was a breathtaking, stunning woman.
--‐------
It felt like time had stopped as the two of you were looking at each other. A light blush appeared on your cheeks once you realized that you were staring at the red-haired man for too long. But, your mind clicked once you realized who your savour was.
"Red-Haired Shanks?!" you gasped.
The shopkeeper froze once he heard the name. "What?! Red Haired-Shanks?!" I gotta call backup! He sputtered as he ran out the door.
The two of you watched the keeper run out.
Shanks offered you his arm and hoisted you up to the ground. He flashed a bright smile your way. "Wow, and here I thought that this infamous doctor was an old geezer. Turns out you're a gorgeous woman." he smoothly said.
You scoffed as you brushed the dirt from your pants. "Save it, ya womanizer. We gotta get out of here, now that they've seen my face, everyone's gonna come after me."
You grabbed Shanks' only hand and sped out the door and into the streets. He couldn't help but laugh as he followed you.
"Aren't we moving too fast? At least take me out on a date first!" he joked.
"This isn't the time Red-Haired! Ugh, you're just what the people say you are!" you groaned.
He chuckled. "You seem to know everything about me. But yet I know nothing about you." he pondered.
"Oh, trust me, I know you well, even if this is our first time meeting. Now, come on, my dad would want to see you." you urged as you picked up your pace.
"Your dad...?" he questioned.
Soon after, the two of you stopped in front of Shakky's Rip-Off Bar. Shanks glanced up and let out a surprised grunt.
"Hold on, if you say we're seeing your dad, and he's here, that means-!" he started before he was cut off by Rayleigh.
"Ah, Shanks! Good to see you! I see you've met my daughter Y/n!" your father greeted at the doorstep.
The red-haired man let out a laugh and looked at you. You glanced up and gave Shanks a sheepish smile. "Yeah, my old man is Silvers Rayleigh. Surprise!"
"Oh, sweets, you're full of surprises, aren't ya? Let's head inside before other people see you," he said as he led you in the establishment.
--------
You saw that the Red-Haired Pirates were drinking away at the bar, and your mother was busy making drinks. Loud, rowdy laughter echoed through the bar as you, Rayleigh and Shanks proceeded to sit at the bar table in front of Shakky.
Your mom took a look at you and smiled. "You made quite a commotion, dear. I can see the Marines are flooding the archipelago right now," she said.
You rubbed your hand behind your head. "I tried my best to stay low, Mom. Good thing Shanks here saved me."
The man you spoke of who was sitting behind you gave a smile. "Believe it or not, I was looking for your sweets. I heard what you did at Mary Geoise, and I gotta say, I want you to join my crew!" he laughed.
"Hey, captain!" Hongo spoke up from a table. "Did ya forget that I'm already part of your crew?" he argued as he guzzled down a pint of alcohol.
The crew burst out into laughter, and you couldn't help but laugh along.
"Hey, now!" Shanks chided, "What's wrong with having two doctors? Hongo needs all the help he can get, especially when we're all hungover!"
He faced you once more and smirked. "Whadd'ya say, sweets? You've captured my heart already. Why don't you come along with us?" he proposed.
Your father chuckled. "Shanks, you've got balls to flirt with my daughter in front of me." he joked as he took a swig of alcohol.
"What can I say? Didn't Captain Roger say that I was going to steal your future daughter's heart one day?" he laughed.
You felt yourself heat up. "Hold on, you big flirt. What's in it for me if I join?"
"Easy! Since you're probably the most wanted woman right now because of that awesome stunt you pulled, I can give you protection!" he said. Then he leaned and whispered in your ear, "Plus, protection is not the only thing you can get."
He pulled away and winked at you, leaving you as a blushing mess. Shaking your head, you smiled softly towards the man beside you.
"You make a hard bargain, Shanks. Alright, I'll join. But before you try anything, you gotta take me out on a date first." You teased.
"I might have to put a raincheck on that date, sweets, there's nothing romantic about the Red Force, and these idiots would ruin our date night." he chuckled.
You got up to head up to your room. "Alright then, guess I have to gather my stuff." you declared as you hopped off the chair.
You patted Shanks' cheeks and gave him a soft peck on the cheek before you walked away with a wink. The red-haired man gave a toothy grin as his heart started to pick up.
The crew saw the interaction and made wolf whistles.
"Don't you worry, Rayleigh, Shakky, I'll take good care of her," he said as he softly smiled at the couple.
Shakky simply smiled and continued making drinks.
"You better keep your word, you punk. Or else you'll meet Roger very soon." your father grunted jokingly. Shanks couldn't help but laugh. Shanks couldn't help but laugh. Who would've thought that this infamous doctor was a beautiful woman, who also happened to be the Dark King's daughter?
--------
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fumiliar · 2 days
Text
in your dreams - kento nanami
✎... fluff
everyone knew your crush on nanami in highschool. it was a public secret, from your classmates to upperclassmen, they all knew. when you first entered jujutsu high, you saw the most beautiful upperclassmen, kento nanami. ever since you've noticed the man, you followed him like a lost puppy. taking any chance to strike a conversation with him, you had 2 goals in highschool, graduate and most importantly get with nanami.
when you came back to jujutsu high as a sorcerer, their first words to you were:
"you're the one who liked nanamin right?" the blue eyed man asked
"yeah, i can't believe you still remembered," awkwardly looking around, trying to stare at anything but his face. it was a very embarrassing time of your life.
"everyone remembers, but don't worry, nanamin won't come back anytime soon."
and how wrong he was. 3 months after you came back to jujutsu, kento followed your footsteps, joining as another jujutsu sorcerer.
"i heard nanamin was single, you don't wanna try asking him out y/n? maybe you'd have a different fate," gojo winking at you before he went to take his leave.
you contemplated on asking him out on a date tonight. it wouldn't hurt, right?
as you arrived to the field to supervise the students, you saw a familiar figure, kento nanami. you took your time walking there, admiring the man. kento being the observant man he is, noticed your staring, reciprocating it back to you, making you look away instantly.
as you stood beside him watching the students, kento started some small talk.
"how was your day y/n?" kento asked, lowering his body by just a pinch to hear you better.
"good, what about you?" you replied.
"good as well," kento answered.
"wanna go out on a date with me?" you whisperef, avoiding his gaze, making sure no one was paying attention.
"of course y/n, i'm flattered that you asked me out," kento replied with a soft smile.
you tried to cover your joy, but it was too much. a smile slowly manifesting itself on your face.
"Ms.Y/n, why are you smiling?" yuuji asked.
"nothing.."
when you had entered the break room, gojo and shoko were already sitting, waiting to interrogate you.
"so are you going out on a date with nanamin tonight?" gojo asked expectantly.
"of course, we're literally married," you answered while taking out your lunchbox from the fridge.
"i know he agreed to go on a date with you, but that doesn't mean you're married to him too y/n," shoko talking to you with a tone she would use in a misbehaving kid.
"in your dreams y/n, i love you, but these delusions need to stop," shoko agreeing with gojo for once.
"what delusions?" kento asked. in the middle of your conversation, kento had also entered the break room, only hearing gojo's part.
"i told them we're married, and they don't believe me," a chuckle escaped kento's lips as you huffed. he slowly approached you, leaning down to give you a kiss on the cheek.
"yeah, we are," kento holding up your hand flexing the matching wedding bands you both had. you and kento thought it would be funny to play a game with the jujutsu high people. at first, you wanted to tell them as soon as you arrived at jujutsu high. but due to gojo's incessant teasing, you decided to see how long you could trick him and everyone else. it wasn't like you guys were hiding it, you both wore your wedding bands everyday, it's just kento isn't a big fan of PDA in the workplace.
"what...are you serious..."
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writeriguess · 3 days
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Can you write Bakugou x reader.
They was Childhood Friends and very close friends until he began to bully Izuku, and she stop talking to him and then he confessed his feelings to her after his kidnapping
Growing up with Katsuki Bakugou had been like having a personal firework show. Explosive, brilliant, and demanding all of your attention. You’d been friends with him for as long as you could remember, running around the neighborhood, sharing secrets, and imagining the day you’d both become heroes. He was always so determined, and you admired that about him.
But everything changed when he started bullying Izuku.
You tried to brush it off at first, thinking it was just Katsuki being... well, Katsuki. But as time went on, it got worse. The insults, the violence, the way he towered over Izuku with that arrogant smirk—it broke your heart. You couldn’t stand it anymore, so you pulled away. Stopped hanging out with him. You didn’t even say goodbye.
It hurt more than you’d admit. You missed the old Katsuki, the one who was protective and competitive, but not cruel. The one who was your best friend. But you couldn’t ignore what he was becoming.
So, you moved on. Or at least, tried to.
The first time you saw him after his kidnapping by the League of Villains, it was hard to believe that the boy standing in front of you was the same one you’d grown up with. His sharp, crimson eyes looked… different. Less wild, more exhausted. His usual bravado seemed tempered, worn down by whatever horrors he had faced.
You stood by the door, gripping the edge of it nervously as he sat on his bed in the hospital room. The silence stretched on uncomfortably. He looked at you, not with his usual glare, but with something else—something more vulnerable.
"I—" he began, but his voice cracked slightly, and he cleared his throat. "I know I was a real jerk back then."
You blinked, taken aback by the sudden admission. Katsuki never apologized, not even when he was wrong.
"Yeah," you finally replied, crossing your arms. "You were."
He flinched slightly, but he didn't lash out. Instead, he ran a hand through his ash-blond hair, staring down at his lap.
"I don’t—" he stopped, biting his lip as if searching for the right words. "I didn’t know how to deal with... stuff back then. I—damn it, I don’t know how to deal with it now either."
You watched him, unsure of where this was going. He wasn’t the type to talk about his feelings, not ever.
"I thought I had to be the best. That it was the only way to be a real hero. So, I pushed everyone away. Even you."
Your heart clenched at his words. It wasn’t the apology you were expecting, but it was more than you’d ever imagined hearing from him.
"Katsuki…" you said softly, taking a step closer, but still unsure if you should get too close.
"I was scared," he admitted in a low voice, his fists clenching the bedsheets. "Scared of losing, of being weak. So, I took it out on Deku… and you. And I regret it every damn day."
The raw emotion in his voice left you speechless. Katsuki Bakugou, the boy who never showed weakness, was baring his soul to you.
"I—I didn’t just push you away because I was angry," he continued, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. "I pushed you away because... because I couldn’t stand the thought of you seeing me as weak."
Your heart pounded in your chest as his words sunk in.
"Why does it matter what I think of you?" you asked quietly.
He looked up at you, his red eyes full of something you hadn’t seen in a long time: fear.
"Because I love you."
The words hung in the air between you, heavy and full of meaning. You stood there, frozen, unable to process what he’d just said.
"I loved you back then, too," he confessed, his voice shaking slightly. "But I was too much of a coward to say it. I didn’t want you to see how much I needed you."
Tears welled up in your eyes as you realized the weight of his words. He wasn’t just apologizing—he was laying his heart out for you.
"Katsuki, I…" Your voice wavered, unsure of how to respond.
"I don’t expect you to forgive me," he said quickly, his tone desperate. "I just... I needed you to know. Even if you hate me now."
You took a deep breath, the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. Yes, he had hurt you, pushed you away, but he was standing in front of you now, broken and vulnerable, and it was clear he was truly sorry.
"I don’t hate you," you whispered, stepping closer until you were standing right in front of him. "I never hated you."
He looked up at you, eyes wide with surprise. For the first time in a long time, you saw a flicker of hope in his gaze.
"But you hurt me, Katsuki," you continued softly. "You pushed me away, and I didn’t understand why. I thought… I thought I lost you forever."
His fists tightened again, but this time, he reached out, his hand trembling as it brushed against yours.
"I’m sorry," he whispered, the words sounding so foreign coming from him. "I’ll make it right. I swear."
You took his hand, squeezing it gently, and for the first time in years, you felt that familiar warmth that only he could give you.
"We’ll see," you said with a small smile. "But you’ll have to work for it."
He let out a shaky laugh, his grip tightening on your hand as if he were afraid you might slip away.
"I will," he promised. "I won’t lose you again."
And for the first time in a long time, you believed him.
Requests are open. Send as many as you like.
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Text
Eddie noticed things. Well, not always right away, but he noticed things. He noticed that Steve liked to be affectionate with the people he cared about: Robin, Dustin, Nancy, and so on. He tried not to read into it when Steve immediately started doing it with him in the Upside Down. He could still feel the tingles from when Steve had placed his hand on his lower back for the first time. The shock that shot through Eddie and the realization that it might not be just women for him nearly sent him crashing to the ground. Worst time to have a sexuality crisis. It had made him realize that he had been checking out Steve on that boat, though. They hadn't gotten together for a long time, though, with them both still healing and Eddie dealing with the aftermath of everything, still dealing with the weight of Chrissy's death. Not until after the kids had gone back to school again.
"I'm just worried, you know! Nancy, Robin, Jonathan, and Vickie graduated. Who's going to look after the kids? Plus, becoming a basketball coach is something I would definitely enjoy doing. Is that stupid?" Steve asked.
Eddie was leaning back against the counter, watching Steve restock the shelves in Family Video. It was empty except for them. He loved the way that Steve’s eyes lit up all protective-like when he talked about the kids. It made Eddie's insides all fuzzy.
"Fucking marry me," Eddie had blurted out.
"Buy me dinner first," Steve said, blushing.
"Okay," Eddie said. "It's a date."
Steve looked at him for a moment, trying to decide if he's serious or not. His face split into a grin, and he put the wrong video on the shelf. He was ridiculously goofy-looking with the way that he grinned, the way his hazel eyes got bigger, and his prince charming hair just looking even better today. Eddie couldn't help but let out a dreamy sigh. That was that. Being with Steve was an adjustment because he had to change his entire view of jocks. He could no longer look at them all as the enemy. It was just a game, just like his own game. The real assholes were the ones that hunted him down, who accused him of murder, and bullied him and his group of misfits. No, the real enemy were the people like Higgins who thought there needed to be division and hatred because they had different interests. Eddie couldn't prove it, but he was pretty sure that Higgins had encouraged their behavior and, because of that, had given Eddie a skewed view of jocks. So, it's all Higgins' fault, really.
Over the last few months of being with Steve, he had come to accept a few things: that jocks weren't all bad, that he was actually starting to like sports, and that he was absolutely in love with Steve. Though he wished Wayne would stop cackling at him. Yeah, yeah, all the shit he gave Wayne about liking sports, and Eddie had to go fall for a jock. The one thing he really loved about Steve was how much he would do for the people, but he hated that he would sacrifice taking care of himself to do it. Although, Eddie was guilty for taking the opportunity to swoop in like a brave knight to help take care of the former king of Hawkins High.
"Where do you think you're going?" Eddie asked from the doorway of Steve’s bedroom.
"Dustin needs a ride," Steve groaned as he rolled out of bed.
"How are you going to do that when you're sick?" Eddie asked.
"I'm not sick," Steve scowled. "I do not get sick."
Steve sneezed so hard that he fell back onto the bed. He groaned, a snot bubble coming out of his nose.
"Sexy," Eddie grinned.
"Fuck off," Steve groaned.
"You say such sweet things to me," Eddie said.
Steve got up off the bed, stuffed his feet into two different pairs of shoes, and tried to move past Eddie. He grabbed Steve’s shoulders.
"I got to give Dustin a ride," Steve said. "I promised."
"Hm, okay, what day of the week is it?" Eddie asked his very stubborn boyfriend.
"It's Tuesday," he scoffed.
"Yeah, try again, big boy. It's Thursday," Eddie said.
"If it's Thursday, does that mean I already gave him a ride?" Steve asked.
"I gave him a ride, and I'm here now. You don't have to be a single mom anymore, Stevie," he teased, flashing his dimples. "Daddy's here."
Eddie picked Steve up and laid him on the bed.
"You're just trying to get into my pants. I'm not sick," Steve said and coughed up phlegm.
"And what's that?" Eddie said.
"I forgot to swallow again," Steve said. "I'll do better. I just need practice."
"Right."
Eddie had stayed all week to take care of Steve and another week for Steve to take care of him when he got sick. Supposedly, he had been worse than Steve, but he was pretty sure that Steve was lying. Steve hadn't complained about it, though. Apparently, he had gotten used to it when he had to take of Eddie when he gotten bit by the bats. Eddie really didn't remember how needy he had been, but apparently, he had been. It was amazing how easy it had been to slip into the role of caring boyfriend, considering that he had never really been one. The first girl he had been with had been a dare for her, and the second had been Paige. He had epically screwed that up. He wasn't perfect, and neither was Steve. Oddly enough, he liked that about their relationship. They didn't have to try so very hard to be perfect. There's always a little give and take in every relationship, though.
"Steve, honey, what are you wearing?" Eddie asked him one day when they were hanging out at Steve's house.
He was dressed all in black. Okay, the black pants were a good fit, but there was something off about everything else. There was something missing.
"You don't like it?" Steve pouted.
"I mean, I do, and I don't," Eddie said, shaking his head. "Where the fuck is your polo?"
"I just thought a change might be good," Steve said.
"No! Nope! No way!" Eddie exclaimed. "If I wanted to date myself, I would take my hand out for a nice little dinner!"
"Robin said - "
"Robin also believes that there are little demobat eggs waiting to burst out of us like in Alien," Eddie said. "So, what she says might not be so trustworthy especially since there's the possibility that she's fucking with you."
"So, you really don't like it?" Steve asked.
"Steve, baby, I love your sweet little sexy numbers," Eddie said. "Do you know why I love seeing you in them?"
"Why?" Steve asked.
Eddie sighed and pulled Steve into his lap.
"Because you like wearing them," Eddie said. "I don't want you to be me or anyone else. I fell in love with Steve Harrington, and Steve Harrington is what I'm going to get. I love everything about you, from your pastel colors to your polos to you playing basketball. Everything. So, if you don't want to wear these clothes, you shouldn't."
"I love you, too," Steve said. "I mean, I kind of like the black pants with the polo, but other than that, I'll change back."
"Yeah, I figured," Eddie grinned. "I mean, there's nothing about me that you want to change?"
"No! I love everything about you," Steve said. "I mean, I wish you wouldn't leave the wet towels on our bathroom floor. I totally busted my ass on them the other day."
"I think I can work on that," Eddie said and caressed his butt. "Wouldn't want to do anything to damage this sweet thing. But seriously, Stevie, don't change a thing. I'd rather you butt ass naked than try to be me."
"I think I can work on that too," Steve grinned and kissed him. "Let me go change."
Eddie sighed and watched him walk out of the room. When Steve came back in, he wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing, and his hands were firmly on his hips.
"Well, I was going to put on my polo, but I got a little hot and bothered," Steve said.
"Goddamn, darlin," Eddie whistled, stood up, slapping Steve’s ass. "I guess I have to go put up those towels. It's not fair if only you make the effort."
"I love you!"
"I love you more!"
"More than Dungeons and Dragons?!"
"Don't push it!"
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Invitation
Inspired by this post, I miss my precious vampire but schl work says no bg3 for me
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Astarion stares at the closed tent flap in front of him, at a loss of what to do. He didn't think the argument the both of you had was that serious, but the silent treatment he was receiving right now said otherwise.
You'd stormed off in a huff, retreating into your tent and hadn't come out since, not even for Gale's cooking. That had made the others worried, and Jaheira had advised him to talk to you, but that was proving to be harder that he thought.
He pokes the flap of the tent, watching as the fabric caves beneath his fingertip and then bounces back. He knows you can see the fabric caving inwards, you're not blind, and yet he can hear no movement coming from inside the tent.
Why are so you so mad at him? It was a harmless joke, nothing more than one of his usual quips, yet you didn't react how he thought you would react. He'd rather die again than admit it but he was genuinely very concerned that this argument had broken your relationship. He didn't want to lose what the two of you had, he enjoyed it, enjoyed the moments it had given him, enjoyed the fluttering feeling in his chest it had given him.
Still, the words "I'm sorry" remain buried beneath the honeyed words he's used to saying. Apologising never meant anything good back under Cazador's thumb, and he's uncertain saying those words will do anything to quell your anger. For all he knows, you could react like Cazador, dealing pain and punishment despite his apologetic pleas, but maybe you won't. You haven't laid a hand on him yet, only giving him the silent treatment and stalking off to your tent. He continues to wait outside your tent, fiddling with his thumbs until he gathers the courage to say something.
"Darling? I know you miss me as much as I miss you. We can forget any of this happened, put it all behind us." He laughs nervously. He wants nothing more than pretend nothing happen, to erase the argument if it means you'll continue adventuring with him, continue protecting him. Still, there's no movement from the tent, no indication that you've put the argument behind. Worry gnaws away at him as the silence grows longer, but just as he is about to head back to his tent, the flap to your tent opens and you peek your head out.
His heart soars, chest fluttering with hope at the sight until you duck back into your tent, leaving him all alone outside once more. His shoulders droop and he turns away, crestfallen, but not before pawing at your tent in a last ditch attempt to grab your attention.
Your head pops out of your tent again, an annoyed look on your face. "Make up your mind about whether you want to come in or not."
Astarion blinks. "You'll have to invite me in first if you crave my company, darling."
"I don't believe I have to invite the vampire who isn't burned by sunlight and can stand in running water into my tent," you snort. "But if you sorely want an invitation, I can extend my dearest vampire Astarion Ancunin an invitation into my humble tent."
Astarion's cheeks flush, dusting them a light pink as he wordlessly ducks into your tent, settling on your bedroll out of habit. You seat yourself next to him, a good sign, and watch as he wrestles with what to say. A small smile creeps onto your face as he fumbles with his words, carefully picking them out so as to not offend you while being as genuine as possible.
"I forgive you." Your words are simple, but they cut right through.
His eyes widen, taken aback by the ease with which you say it. You smile softly, reaching for his hand but he pulls away, shaking his head.
"How…how can you forgive me so easily? What do you want from me in exchange? What can I do to earn your forgiveness?" The words tumble out of his mouth unbidden.
"Earn? After I gave it to you?" You tilt your head in confusion.
"I know forgiveness isn't freely given, but I don't understand what it is you want me to do. You don't want to sleep with me, you don't want me to serve you, so what exactly do you keep me around for? Just to pick locks? I'm confused by you and what you want from me!" Astarion nearly screams in frustration, then shrinks, anxiously babbling an apology.
He shies away as you try to move closer to him, his body trembling. His hand move to shield himself, reflexes honed over centuries of torture kicking in. You move backwards, giving him some space and he shakily looks up at you, confusion written all over his face.
"I'm not going to hurt you, Astarion. I will never hurt you, I swear." You upturn your hands, showing him that you pose no threat and he slowly relaxes.
"I…" He mumbles, picking at his nails nervously.
"It's alright, you don't have to say or do anything." You wave your hand. "Take your time."
He quietly sits there, contemplating his next move as you busy yourself with fluffing up the pillows and neatly arranging the bedroll. He silently watches you, his chest fluttering weirdly when he realises you're preparing the bedroll for him as well. This sort of affection…was a rare occurrence and even if it did occur, it was never to such a degree. Astarion lets out a sigh, and decides the best course of action is to address the argument the both of you had.
"Y/N…about the…little argument we had earlier…"
"Mmhm."
"I…want to apologise for what I said. I didn't…realise it would affect you that much." He takes a deep breath, forcing the next words out.
"I'm sorry."
You smile, reaching over to rest your hand gently on his. "I know, and I forgive you. I can't seem to bring myself to even hate you."
A laugh bubbles from your chest and you give his hand a squeeze. He squeezes back, the tension within him dissipating as you continue laughing, and soon he finds himself smiling. A fuzzy warmth envelops him and he shifts closer to you, wanting more of the warmth and light emanating from you. You tentatively wrap an arm around his waist and he leans in, indulging your need to be in physical contact with him. He lets your hand rest on his cold cheek, relishing in your gentle touches.
"Next time, invite yourself into my tent, Star." You press a chaste kiss to his lips, grinning cheekily.
"As you wish, my dear. Don't you regret saying it." He pulls you into a full kiss, hungrily devouring your lips.
"Never."
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juniperdugong · 2 days
Text
Super Weird - Vernon
WC: 867 || Genre: Fluff || CW: Suggested bullying (?)/ reader being an outcast || Vernon x GN!reader (established relationship)
A/N: For all my weirdos because I'm a weirdo and Vernon is too, ain't no denying it, just a buncha freaks in masks huh?
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"Do you think I'm weird?"
Vernon looks at you, eyes squinting in confusion and his expression shifting into a scowl seeing that you're completely serious, "Whaf dar haw ah yo tarking abo-?" (What the hell are you talking about?)
His mouth is filled with the last and biggest spoonful of food that you knew you couldn't finish so - as the routine goes - you gave it to Vernon. He furiously chews at a pace that you know probably isn't safe and with a large and rather painful-looking gulp his mouth is free of obstructions. "What did you just say?" his tone sounds more lightly confused but his face gives quiet anger more than anything.
"Hansol you heard me. Do you think I'm weird?" You speak very monotonously, a trait the two of you shared.
"Of course you're weird." He says it like it's a matter of fact. His expression completely drops into the deadpan face you're used to. He ignores how perplexed you look as he brings the dishes to the sink.
"And you're okay with that?" You ask out of genuine curiosity, you know that most people would outcast someone they think is weird - it's something you've often experienced at school and work. So if he thought you were strange then why would he stick around?
"Why wouldn't I be?" He looks up at you almost accusatorily as he scrubbed the dishes and put them to dry.
"I mean- It doesn't bother you at all that I'm abnormal or weird? I know people talk about how I sound or that I'm too... strange and stuff. It isn't lost on me but if you also know that then why do you stick around?" You let your words spill just wanting to get down to the root of the issue while escaping the heavy-handed approach of blurting out "Why would you want to be with someone you find weird?".
"Nope." That was his reply. His. Entire. Answer. Just "Nope." and then he picked his phone up from the table and went to sit in the living room. You know he saw your face as it contorted into even more confusion and bafflement but he ignored it!
You did the only sensible thing, of course, and immediately trailed him and sat right next to him, snatching his phone out of his hand as he opened up a game. You had his attention and yet he seemed confused? As if he wasn't the one who completely dodged your questioning before.
"Yes?"
"You have nothing else to say?"
He gave himself a moment to think, you thought for a millisecond that perhaps he's finally found a more appropriate answer, "Nope."
"Huh?" You shake your head completely bewildered. "You know I'm weird and you still want to be with me, why is that?"
"It's probably because I love you or something weird like that-" He turns to you as a blush sets in. Chuckling he gives a small pinch to your cheeks, fighting the cuteness aggression he feels, "Don't think about it too much though, that's a fact you should already know about by now... I would hope you know about by now..." He tilts his head as he says that last part as if questioning if you really did know about his love after all this time.
Vernon's love for you was something you never questioned, even though he wasn't exactly the best at physically expressing it he always made sure to assure you through words, actions, or gifts. It was a bit odd honestly, like he had some sort of psychic powers to know what your needs are. Maybe...
"I think you're the weird one actually-" you start thinking out loud.
"Yeah? Maybe."
"And you accept that, Han?"
"Mhm." His answers are blunt and to the point, you have to wonder if he's just saying this to satisfy your curiosity- "I'm not just saying that by the way. I know that I'm weird, babe."
"You a wizard?" He squints as he looks at you, waiting for clarification, "You read my mind like one."
"Nope, I'm just a really good boyfriend I think." He relaxes into the couch, pulling you onto his lap and retrieving his phone from your grasp.
"So we're both just weird and we both just have to accept that?"
"Looks like it, babe."
"huh..." You ponder on it for a moment as your eyes look around your shared apartment. Shelves filled with knick-knacks of yours, pillows in the shape of cartoon characters, anime on the TV currently... "Yeah, okay." You retract your worry as quick as it came, it was an absurd thought that you let yourself get caught up in any way. You wrap your arms around his neck, leaning your head against his shoulder as you watch him play his game.
"Hansol?"
"What?"
"Why am I seeing a half-naked man on your screen right now?"
"That is my current boyfriend, Sylus."
You look at him and raise an eyebrow, he meets your nebulous expression with a peck on the lips. "You are weird, Han."
"I know baby. It's honestly weirder that you heard me say all of that and that's your only reaction."
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A/N: Hahaha totally not something to sate you guys as I continue working on the Cheol angst fic... (Please help me I'm 3000 words in and still haven't gotten through half of my bullet points) Tbf I did say it was gonna be long though... First Vernon fic though! Plus comeback around the corner, yeah let's all talk about all the whiplash that's been going on in Caratland rn...
Please Reblog and Comment (They act as power-ups for me)
Taglist (OPEN): @bemybabiibish @bath1lda @porridgesblog
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inuiiwonderland · 3 days
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PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE HEAR ME OUT..
Y/n who falls out of love when [twst character of your choice #1] doesn’t show interest, and when Y/n does fall out of love they get all sad because they DID really try for that person. But then comes in [twst character of your choice #2] who comforts Y/n and then they kinda just fall in love from there. BUT what Y/n DIDNT know was that [twst character of your choice #1] knew that Y/n was in love with them and also had feelings for them but didn’t know how to express it
IS IT vISIONINGN?!?!?
—🐍anon
ISNSNDKD YES I SEE THE VISION ANON!!! I had a really fun time writing this so enjoy!🤍
Sorry if it’s ass. I haven’t written anything in a fat minute🥲
Dead and new feelings
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Character pairing: Ace x gn! Reader (feat. Azul)
Words: 1.5k
-
A huge frown was shown in both of the boys' faces as they watched you fawn over the octavinelle housewarden. Ace brows furrowing even further seeing you talk highly of the octo mer and having a deeper frown the more he heard you call him “cute” and “amazingly smart”.
Yuck
He can already feel the throw up in his mouth
“He’s so cute and smart!”
“You mean a bitch?” He says. Arms crossed over his chest as he gave you a disgusted and judgmental look.
“Ace!” Deuce says as he quickly looks around to make sure said housewarden or his minions aren’t nearby. He’s still traumatized by the events that occurred not so long ago with octavinelle housewarden and his two companions.
“What?! Don’t act like I didn’t hear you calling him a bitch the other day when he walked past us in the halls” The boy shrieks as he slams his hand over Ace's mouth.
“Shut up!”
“Ew get your hands off me!” You rolled your eyes as you continued to day dream about Azul.
“What are you two doing?” The three of you both scream as you all turn around to see the heartslabyul housewarden.
“Housewarden!”
“Riddle!”
The young boy raises a brow.
“I thought you two said you were going to be studying”
“We are! Look see” Deuce shows him all the books and papers as he gave his housewarden an awkward smile. Riddle sighs. Clearly annoyed.
“You two must be in the dorm by 3. Don’t be late or else it’s off with your heads” The two freshmen nod. Ace mutters a low “bitch” under his breath as you kick his foot from under the table.
“You got it housewarden!”
Satisfied, he leaves without another word.
“Ace you could’ve gotten in trouble if he heard you!”
“IF! But he didn’t” You smack his shoulder before standing up and gathering up all your things.
“Well then, I’ll be leaving now”
“What?! Why?” Ace whines as he tries to pull you back down to your seat.
“Because unlike you, I have very important things to do!”
“Lameeee” Deuce smacks the back of his head.
“It’s not lame if the prefect wants to focus on more important matters!”
“Ugh lame! Both of you!” This time, he gets two smacks from the both of you.
-
It wasn’t a secret that you have a thing for octavinelle housewarden. All of your friends knew about this “little” crush on the second year boy.
Even Floyd and Jade know about your crush on their housewarden. Much to your embarrassment.
You blame Ace for that. You came to his basketball practice after class since he was BEGGING you to come and watch. When they went on break, he jogged over to you as you handed him his water bottle.
“How was class?” He asks as he takes a sip of his water.
“Amazing!” He raises a brow at you, motioning to you to tell him more.
“Today in Mr.Crewel class we had to pick a partner to do this small little assignment. I was going to ask Silver if he wanted to work with me but before I could go up and ask him Azul came up to me and asked if I wanted to work with him!” You squealed as you repeatedly punched his arm.
“He definitely wants me!” At that, Ace lets out a LOUD cackle which causes him to choke on his water. This obviously caught the attention of a certain eel who then made his way towards the both of you.
“Heyyy shrimpy are you telling jokes? I want to laugh too!” You froze as Ace continued to just cackle. Without thinking, Ace turns to Floyd and repeats the same words that you told him.
“They said that Azul wants them because he picked them as a partner for a quick assignment!” You gasp and your blood runs cold.
Oh you're definitely going to kill him
“Ace! You fucking idiot!”
“Ow! What the fuck did- ohhhh” He stops laughing and looks up at Floyd.
“Uhh…you're not gonna say anything…right?” Floyd just laughs as he runs away from the two of you.
So yeah, that’s the story of Ace being a loud mouth and blurting out your crush's name to one of his friends.
You remember being paranoid for WEEKS thinking that Floyd might’ve told Azul after he found out. You ignored him for a while after but once you saw that he wasn’t acting weird or different whenever he was around you you knew Floyd didn’t snitch.
Which you remember being grateful for
But that was in the past! Azul hasn’t been in your mind in a long time. In fact, you were starting to move on from your silly little crush on the octavinelle housewarden!
It did hurt at first. You truly did like Azul! But it was slowly starting to just become a little….draining? And a little embarrassing?
You did so much to make him notice you and the feelings that you had for him. But he was just not interested. You would even try to go out of your comfort zone for even a tiny piece of his attention! But you soon gave up afterwards knowing that your feelings aren't reciprocated.
And you remember feeling sad the day you realized that he doesn’t have the same feelings for you as you have for him. And that day was a tough day. You had grim and the ghosts comforting you that night as you cried your little heart out.
You remember Ace's comment the next day. The moment you entered the classroom with red eyes and a blank expression. He decided to be an ass that morning and make a comment about how you looked like shit.
You looked at him for a second before taking your seat next to him and remaining silent for the whole class period.
Obviously, Ace being Ace did in fact NOT like how quiet you were and how you didn’t react to any of his jokes or snarky comments when someone dared to try him. You remember him pulling you into an empty classroom that day and was ready to interrogate you about why you were so quiet today in class and why it looked like you were crying before class. But before he can continue with his rambling you broke down crying in front of him which immediately shut him up as he froze.
“Woah hey are you okay?” He grabs ahold of your shoulder as he leans his head down to get a good look at your face since you were facing down.
“Azul….” The first year immediately knew where this was heading and just pulled you forward in a hug.
“Ugh…I knew this day would come” You smacked his chest.
“Not now you Jackass”
“Oh! This is how you treat someone who’s trying to comfort you?!”
“Well you aren’t doing a good job at it!” He gasps in mock offense.
“Well excuse me for not meeting your expectations!” You both stayed silent before breaking into a fit of laughter. Ace hugs you tightly one last time before letting you go.
“But seriously I knew this day would come. Azul is an ass and he has ZERO experience in the love department” you raised an eyebrow at him.
“And you do? Didn’t you ghost your ex girlfriend-” He covers your mouth with his hand.
“Anyways! I’m sleeping over tonight. I can’t have you bawling the night before and appearing like a zombie the next day- OW WHAT THE FUCK!?”
“That’s what you get jerk!”
And that's when your moving on from Azul journey begins.
You were grateful to have a friend like Ace. Yes he can be an ass sometimes but when you were dealing with your unrequited love for Azul, he was there to comfort you in the end.
The two of you were close, yes but out of all your friends (minus grim. That’s your son), you were closest to Ace and Deuce.
During this time, you and Ace grew closer together. He would walk you to your classes, carry your bag even though you told him multiple times you’re capable of carrying it yourself, sneak out of his dorm late at night so the two of you can do movie nights, skipping class with him at times so the both of you can just snack on whatever stuff he bought from Sam’s shop.
He was helping you forget about the love you used to have for Azul. And you were grateful for that.
And you don’t know when it happened. But the two of you slowly started falling for each other. And months later, you two started dating.
And for Azul?
Well
He was in shambles
He was busy with some paperwork for the mostro lounge when Floyd suddenly slammed the door to his office wide open as he blurts out the news for him.
“Shrimpy and crabby are together! I saw them being all lovey dovey in the halls! Yuck”
The color drained from his face as he just sat there in complete disbelief.
“Pardon?”
This is impossible! He knew that you liked him. It was obvious! And he also likes you too! So how can you be dating ace?! Ace of all people?!
Now everytime he watches you and Ace walk past in the hallway. Goofing off while the two of you run hand in hand so you wouldn’t be late for class. He watches with deep regret.
Regret that he never was able to show or tell you that he likes you too.
-
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on the topic of fandom racism.. wanted to ask an outside opinion on this.
so without much detail bc i don't wanna get this person harassed or something, i'm in a fandom where most of the characters are japanese and look pretty similar, so the diversity is Not Great. recently i saw an artist, who is white, draw a character with slightly darker skin than the rest of the cast as Black, where he was ambiguously brown before. my problem with this as an outsider is that i think that plays into a ton more stereotypes than if he was just tan or something. this character is regarded to be misogynistic, overly sexual, and especially to his #fffff white japanese (girl) friend.
i, as a white person, would like to approach this artist and ask if that's really the message they wanna send, but god forbid i do not want to sound like those people that believe in "black-washing" or just hate to see more diversity in an anime lineup. would it be white knighting to point this out, or approach that, hey, maybe your only person of color in this cast shouldn't be the one that acts Like That...
Hm. I see what you're saying. I'd suggest a few things, which is really my go-to for everyone white fighting fandom racism:
1) first, look out for the voices of Black fans in that space and see what they're saying. If they are perturbed by what they see, then I would amplify their voices and support them first. Let them know they're not crazy. They're the ones experiencing the harm, let their voices be the ones prioritized. If no one Black has said anything, that could be a sign that this entire fandom isn't safe for that kind of feedback (which... Often.)
2) look at that person's page to see how they treat this character. Do they actually offer them depth? Are they a fan? Have they shared anyone's good perspective of him? Do they actually care about him, and think his being Black serves a better narrative? Or is it really just this character is a douchebag and now he's "Black" because they wanted some diversity points without thinking about it. Hell, does the original media do right by this ambiguously brown character lol? Because that can often be the larger issue too.
3) does this person positively interact with Black people at all? Like people, opinions, topics, politics, anything at all? Or is this their Token Black Blorbo Barbie™? Because that's a red red flag lmao.
4) if you still feel strongly about it, send them a DM. I'd say make sure to be genuinely polite, not because you should be respected more because of it, but so that it's on record that you wanted to give them the space to amend ("Hello, I mean no harm, but I was worried that this may-") You're white too, so it'll be safer. DMs are really a kindness, a last chance for grace; sometimes people are just like "fuck it, that's a racist and imma treat them like it". And I don't begrudge them that, this shit is exhausting and enraging.
5) accept that you may very well approach with the best intentions, and this artist may very well act a complete asshole* about it. They may make excuses, the classic "I would never be racist", they may accuse you of all those things that you just said, try to cast you as the problem, and their friends may very well make you out to be the racist for pointing out the racism. Welcome to fighting antiblackness and racism in fandom 👍🏾 it's a minefield out here.
*keep in mind, even if they "respond sweetly", the whole "thanks 💕" schtick is still them being an asshole. Racism in sweet words is still racism.
6) if they do respond like an asshole, it is not a reflection of you, but of them. 👍🏾 They are now purposely choosing racism. Block them and move accordingly.
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thewhumpcaretaker · 10 hours
Text
⚜ Marquis of Los Angeles: Ch. 2 - Domination
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ཐི♡ཋྀ Thank you for the beta-read, @evrensadwrn! ཐི♡ཋྀ
Summary: LaCroix briefs Vincent on the new world he has just entered into, with the expectation that he will be an obedient ghoul. But Vincent is still struggling to gain the upper hand.
Author's Note: I made myself sad writing this - I want Sebastian to turn from Whumper to Caretaker already!
TW: mind control, emotional manipulation, strangulation, kidnapping
It was not LaCroix’s habit to keep his subordinates close to him. If it was wise to keep enemies close, then it was wiser to keep envious inferiors at such a distance that they had no opportunity to become enemies. Ghouls ought to have no knowledge of their master’s weaknesses, and no importance as anything other than pawns. They ought to view him as a solitary, impenetrable figure, above even their understanding. But Vincent Bisset de Gramont proved himself an enemy from the start, and therefore, an exception.
LaCroix repeated that name in his head and smiled, rolling it and playing with it, along with the bullet in his palm which he had decided to keep as a souvenir. Vincent had become so incensed when LaCroix refused to use his title that he determined on the spot never to use it again. The man had to be taught a lesson. “You are no Marquis any longer, let alone an ‘Autem Imperator,’ Vincent. Those titles have no meaning here. You will learn new titles. ‘Prince.’ ‘Regnant.’ ‘Domitor.’ And they will belong to me, not to you - as do all things where we’re going. Know your place.” He leaned back into the quilted suede of his seat, letting starlight and the dimmed glow of the cabin play across his features to what he hoped was a mysterious and intimidating effect.
“Your hubris knows no bounds, Prince,” Vincent spat back, clutching the arms of his seat as if his wrists were lashed to them. “They’re looking for me even now. Do you think you can walk into a High Table duel and make off with the highest ranking –“
“No one is looking for you, because no one knows you’re missing. Everyone who saw me believes they saw a kindly priest who said his respects over your body before helping that fellow – The Harbinger, I believe you call him – lay you to rest in a casket for your mortician to carry away. Tomorrow, that empty casket will be buried.”
A flash of panic before his pretty green eyes lit up again. “The mortician will – “
“The mortician wasn’t your man. He was mine. I sent a local friend to take his place, and to oversee the proceedings. You’re as good as dead, Vincent. I’m dreadfully sorry.”
He went as ghostly white as his travelling companion then. He remained very quiet while Sebastian explained to him the meanings of those important titles he’d mentioned, as well as other relevant words such as “Masquerade” and “Camarilla” and “Ventrue.”
LaCroix’s hope of entertainment during the flight was very much fulfilled. Vincent made for a captivating (if pitiful) image, with blood still smeared across his forehead and wetness sparkling in his eyes. LaCroix couldn’t stop staring at him and wondering whether he’d really cry or not. It filled him with a strange mix of sadism and sympathy that kept the Prince continuously in suspense. It sent him inexplicably trembling to hear Vincent say, “You’ll have to forgive me, Sebastian, I’m just so confused. Please…help me understand everything.”
He was coherent enough to ask intelligent questions though, and always seemed to latch onto those subjects that were a little too top-secret for a first conversation with a ghoul, whilst sighing that he was just so confused and scared. Clearly, he knew his way around a syndicate like the Camarilla and went straight for the vital information. When at last the Prince tired of this game and started to inquire about Vincent’s own organization, he refused to divulge anything.
It confused Sebastian a little. Every other ghoul he’d ever created had hung on his words in an ecstasy that totally drowned out the loss of their former life. They typically begged to repay him for saving them and fell over themselves to please him until he was either amused or disgusted. They certainly didn’t issue desperate pleas and threats about returning to their old life, or try to ply information out of him, or protect their old secrets. But Vincent? Well…there was no doubt that Vincent was affected by Sebastian. Sometimes his eyes lingered on LaCroix as if he wasn’t quite able to look away. But the look there wasn’t puppy love, it was…horror. Hatred. As if Vincent was looking at an old grudge who had wronged him grievously. Something wasn’t right.
He wasn’t in deep enough, that was all. He’d only taken the first sip of vitae – two still remained to form a full blood bond. And he was hardly a pliant individual, that much was evident. For now, Sebastian supposed he’d have to secure the ghoul’s cooperation via commands. “Vincent. When I ask you a question about the High Table, you will answer me directly, honestly, and without embellishments. Do you understand?”
A glazed, vacant look replaced the pitiful one. “I understand.”
There, good. Sebastian let out a breath, only just realizing how tense he had become, and began his inquisition.
He knew a little about the High Table already. It was not so different from the Giovanni, but even larger by membership the Camarilla, and impressive for a human construction. It was difficult to be anyone significant in either the human or kindred underworld without running across the High Table’s activities at some point. But the Autem Imperator (Sebastian might not call him by his title out loud, but he wasn’t forgetting it for an instant in his own mind) offered a unique view of its proceedings. Within minutes, LaCroix knew who held each seat, how communications passed between members, how those communications might be intercepted, into which countries their influence had spread (it was most of them), and even where the Elder resided.
It had been no idle tip, he realized, that suggested he should pay a visit to his home country and rest in the basilica that day. It had been, in fact, pure gold in the form of an anonymous email. He almost passed it up as an attempted ruse or ambush, even with all the power promised by the stranger on the other end. But it also spoke to a Masquerade violation, and even the Nosferatu could not trace it. The sender must have had a contact, someone who could encrypt on their level. So he went personally, just for 24 hours, with the resolution that he would return to the safety of LA as soon as possible.
Remembering at last to the original purpose of his visit, LaCroix asked his ghoul one final question, shortly before landing.
“Do you have an associate who would go by the initial ‘C’?”
Even under domination, he rolled his eyes. “Of course I do. You’ll have to be more specific.”
Sebastian held out the message on his phone. “Who could this have been?”
“Is it true that you can help someone live beyond death? If you really are I’ve been told you are, then come at once, to Paris. Come to the Sacré-Coeur Basilica just before dawn. If you’re lucky and I’m unlucky, you will find a man there who cannot escape death any other way. If you keep him alive, he will offer you knowledge and power equal to your own, pertaining to a human organization you may know as the High Table. Take him away from me, change him, disappear him, I don’t care. Only save his life and make him happy, and you will have my eternal thanks. He does not know, and will never know, what he means to me.”
- C”
“My bodyguard, Chidi.” His voice was strained almost to the breaking point, and his eyes still fixed on Sebastian’s phone even after the email was closed. Sebastian had no questions about whether he was faking his tearfulness this time.
“A ghoul of your very own, of sorts! Where can I find him?”
Vincent closed his eyes for a moment before mustering an answer. “…He’s dead.”
“Ah, splendid. That saves me a great deal of trouble.”
And then Vincent did what no ghoul, whether on one sip of vitae or three, should have been capable of doing. He sprung forward and closed hands around his domitor’s neck.
.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸. ཐི♡ཋྀ.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.
It took Vincent much longer than it should have to recall that Sebastian didn’t need to breathe. By that time, he was already being dragged off by the enormous, visibly supernatural thing that Sebastian had introduced as “The Sheriff.”
“Get this brainless lump off of me!”
“Hey,” The Sheriff grunted. Vincent paid him no mind, and continued addressing LaCroix with exactly as much civility as he deserved, all the while straining against the boulder-heavy hands holding him back.
“You will not SPEAK to me that way and you will not – “ Fuck, he hated the way his voice was shaking… “You will not speak of my bodyguard’s death as – as ‘splendid!’”
“And you will not speak to me at all until you can behave yourself!” LaCroix retorted. “SILENCE!”
The voice seemed to go out of Vincent’s throat. All his resistance had been used up in the outburst and he sunk numbly back into his seat.
LaCroix was panting, a shaking hand against his neck. He adjusted his tie and recovered himself enough to laugh. “Imagine trying to strangle a vampire! And the one holding your life in his hands, no less. You’re one to talk of brainlessness. And just when I was beginning to respect your cunning.” Vincent opened his mouth and nothing came out, so he spat in LaCroix’s face instead.
“Oh for god’s sake - You don’t speak AND you don’t move!” Vincent smiled as he watched LaCroix wipe at his face with a handkerchief, scowling. But another wave of terrible compulsion spread through his limbs, and then he was paralyzed.
It was such a strange feeling, being “dominated.” It was the same magnetism that drew him to LaCroix when he first laid eyes on him (that must be the “vitae” he had spoken about), but stronger, and more concentrated. Making him capable of magnificent feats, making him motivated, drawing his focus, making things important to him. As if a power was bursting out from inside of Vincent. It wasn’t so unlike being high, and not wholly unpleasant. But it was not his to control, not a part of him. It was LaCroix’s, and he hated it for that, and he hated LaCroix for that too. Maybe, if he just held onto that hatred…
But LaCroix’s conversation with his Sheriff broke his concentration. “No, I don’t want him in a cell, much less his own apartment. He’s not fully dominated and it’s a security risk. I don’t understand it, but I need to maintain a tight hold over him even if I have to do it by manual override. He stays in the penthouse, with me.”
If The Sheriff understood that, he conveyed it only by grunting.
Damn it. Any chance to get out of LaCroix’s grasp was slipping away. Again, he struggled to protest, but it was useless. He couldn’t speak. His own body was refusing him. It felt traitorous and alien and there was no one to help him, no one looking for him, no Chidi ever again and absolutely nothing he could do. If he had a voice, he would probably be screaming, he realized. But instead, for the second time that day, he floated on a sea of bloody misery, gasping worse and worse by the second. As the jet went into final descent, its weightlessness hit him in the stomach and drove home a second wave of fear.
LaCroix was watching him, leaning over him, speaking to him, in much the same way one might speak to a broken printer shortly before kicking it. He lay a hand on Vincent’s chest to feel his shallow heartbeat and the very core of Vincent’s being rebelled against the way that it soothed him.
“Why are you not calm? You shouldn’t be feeling this way, I don’t understand why it’s not working…” He fixed LaCroix with the most hateful stare he could manage without moving his facial muscles. Why do you think, you useless fils de pute? He felt tears rolling silently down his cheeks. Fine. Good, even.
Again, LaCroix’s magnetic voice overpowered his will with a rush, even more hideously blissful than before. Perhaps it was more in harmony with him than the last had been... “Be calm, Marquis. I command you. Don’t be so afraid.”
And all the wild contents of his heart slipped away into a soft, empty, merciful void.
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