#I want to paint and draw again and enjoy it
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frescacactuscooler · 1 year ago
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Trying to reclaim life after letting it fall apart for years and years is hard. But hey, making steps to truly have hobbies. Starting a music class in January and very excited about it!
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princema-k · 2 months ago
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so draw your blade, you wretched fiend and let's you and i fight like the dishonourable dogs we are savage, violent, yet free and when the curtain calls, let me put you out of my misery
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 year ago
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you cannot tease wei wuxian and hua cheng hunting for funsies and not show that to us??? it has to go one of two ways right? either an absolute visious blood bath where everyone cowers in fear or the equivalent of a teenage girl's slumber party. both??? both.
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Hunting each other for sport is the keystone to a fun slumber party
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cali · 1 year ago
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darkraiiiiii
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vilelittlecritter · 16 days ago
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ACHTUNG! ACHTUNG!
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So Signalis is gooooooood
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ghosttotheparty · 2 years ago
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also on ao3
(cw: tics, bullying)
Eddie started shivering in seventh grade.
Even when it was hot, even when he was sweating and desperately wanted a non-rattly fan or a better air conditioner. They weren't normal shivers. He wasn't cold. But his shoulders would jerk or shake, or he would tremble for a second, and he didn't know what else it could have been. Others didn't question it for a while, because it started in October. Everyone was shivering. But by March, it hadn't stopped, and he had to explain himself when people gave him questioning looks or asked if he was okay. (Back when people cared.)
'S just a shiver, I'm fine.
He wasn't fine. It got worse over time. He got used to it, to the weird feeling that took over his body for a few seconds, got used to telling people he was cold, joking that he must be low on vitamins or iron, joking that in the future, someone is walking over his grave. But other people didn't get used to it. They thought he was weird. That was fine with him. Wayne realised something was wrong before Eddie started the tenth grade, because he wasn't just shivering anymore. His whole body was jerking sharply, suddenly, his shoulders drawing up, fists clenching. Eddie didn't question it. Wayne did.
It wasn't normal. But nothing about Eddie was normal. Wayne took him to see a doctor. The doctor make him do things, walk in a line, hold his arms out and push the doctor's hands away as hard as he could, follow a flashlight with his eyes without moving his head. It was all weird. It kind of scared Eddie. The doctor kept writing things in a notebook, and Eddie couldn't tell if he was doing well or not. But Wayne was there, watching and listening intently.
The doctor said he had tics. It sounded funny to Eddie, but then it wasn't funny, because the doctor didn't give him anything for it. He just said there wasn't anything really wrong with him. His brain just worked a little differently. (Which Eddie was already used to hearing.) That his tics could get better or go away as he got older, or they could get worse.
They got worse.
By the end of that summer, his arms were moving, flying over his head suddenly, randomly, and his head was jerking back so sharply it hurt. Wayne was worried about him getting whiplash. Eddie was worried about going to school.
That year, he became the freak.
At first, he tried to explain it to people. The movements were involuntary, he couldn't control them. Wayne contacted all his teachers, who mostly got it, but still preferred to make him sit in the hallway so he didn't distract the class. But the other students thought he was possessed, faking it for attention, and everything in between. They'd throw things at him, and complain to the teachers that he was distracting even when he wasn't moving, just to get him out of the room. They would mimic him, make fun of him, and by September, he learned that the tics get worse when he's upset. He could hear them all snickering and giggling as he shoved his hands under his legs and tucked his chin to his chest or held his shirt over his face, as he held his limbs tense so they wouldn't move, so tense he was exhausted and sore all the time, and then he'd go home and cry because he couldn't control his own body.
He'd have to sit on the sofa so when his head threw itself back, it would hit the back of the sofa instead of the wall, and Wayne would just wait, watching with that fucking sadness in his eyes that made Eddie ache even more. When it finally stopped, sometimes after a few minutes, sometimes after an hour or two, he was so exhausted he'd fall asleep right there on the sofa. He couldn't do his homework. His grades dropped even more, but he managed to keep himself afloat. He did the best he could, doing his homework early in the morning before school or in detention. (Some of his teachers thought he was faking. Mr Peterson was in charge of detention, and he was nice. Considerate. Eddie counted him as one of his few blessings.)
His tics got worse.
In December of his junior year, he started making noises. Short screams, grunts, quiet vocalizations. It scared him. He didn't want to go back to school, but he did. The laughter around him got louder, and he was sent out to the hallways more. He started skipping classes. He knew he'd be forced to leave anyway. So he'd sit in the boys' room, on top of a lidded toiler, his feet up on the stall door, and he'd leave cigarette burns on the walls.
Not everyone was awful. Some kids were just curious about him, asked why he acted the way he did, and he did his best to calmly explain it all. I can't help it, actually. It's just my brain works different. That turned into Eddie's brain's fucked. It's broken. He's a fucking--
So he used it. Eddie the Freak. Attention-seeking, desperate for people to notice him. So he started making devil horns, yelling from tabletops, making himself The Freak so no one could use it against him.
No one, not even Wayne, saw him cry at night, because the attention he got was never the attention he wanted. Because he was tired. So fucking tired. His limbs were sore and his voice was rough, and his neck hurt, and he was sick of being laughed at. But that was all he got.
He kept counting his blessings. Mr Peterson, who never minded Eddie's noises or the way his fists would bang against the table loudly in the silent room, who scolded the other detention-goers when they tried to tease. The Hellfire guys, who got used to his tics fairly quickly, and knew when to pause whatever they were doing if Eddie couldn't hear them over a scream or was distracted by his own body. That nice girl, Chrissy Cunningham, who would slip notes from the classes he missed or skipped into his locker or backpack with sweet smiles. (If Eddie wasn't gay, he would have fallen in love with her.) The other few students that ignored him when his tics acted up, just glancing and moving on. Wayne, bless his soul, who would come to the school to confront Eddie's teachers and complain to the principal about Eddie being mistreated by the staff.
And, oddly enough, Steve Harrington.
Eddie never saw it coming. It was a particularly bad day. He was at his locker, trying to line his books up, but a tic threw his hands up, and some books fell from his locker to the floor. He watched helplessly as papers scattered across the floor, as most students stepped around them, ignoring them, as some jocks trampled over them, over Chrissy's neat handwriting, his fists clenched at his sides. When they passed, he kneeled, picking up the books, and when he looked up, Steve Harrington was kneeling too, gathering the crumpled papers and carefully straightening them out.
He gave them to Eddie with a smile, and Eddie thought he might be dying, in some weird, upside-down dimension where Steve Harrington smiles at Eddie Munson. Eddie took them hesitantly, said thank you, and then he hit him.
He was mortified, almost dropping the papers again, jumping back as his whole body flushed with heat, staring at Steve's shoulder where his hand had just landed heavily, and he burst with a Fuck, I'm so sorry, oh my god--
But Steve had just laughed. Amazingly, it was a kind laugh, with sparkling eyes, and soft cheeks, and he said It's okay.
And then he was gone. Down the hall, after his friends, and Eddie realised his hands were trembling.
Steve kept smiling at him. Even when his friends were making fun of Eddie's Satanic cult, and of the way he couldn't keep still, and of his sad, broken brain. Even when Eddie's brain made him flip Steve off across the cafeteria, Steve saw how Eddie pulled his hand down sharply, and Steve just... laughed. Eddie fell in love with his laugh. It was kind, and it made Eddie feel better, even when he wanted to cry.
Steve graduated the next year. But he didn't leave Eddie alone. Eddie couldn't stop thinking about him, and his kind laugh, and his pretty eyes, and then the sheep Eddie adopted told him all about how cool and brave Steve was, and Eddie fell harder without even seeing him.
The world went to shit. But Eddie got to see Steve again.
Steve was still kind, even though the world was ending, and even during serious discussions, plan-making, how-to-save-the-world conversations, Eddie's tics kept going. His body jerked and shivered, and his head threw back, and his fists hit his own chest and shoulders, and he had to sit down. And Eddie found out that there are more kind people than he thought. When his tics slowed, Nancy wordlessly got him an ice pack to hold to his chest, and when he flung it across the room, Robin caught it with a casual oops, and brought it back to him. No one questioned him, or stared, or laughed, even though he knew how annoying he was.
When he woke up in the hospital, he hurt so badly he couldn't move. He just cried. Steve sat by his bed and held onto his hand. He was crying too. When Eddie stopped crying, Steve carefully slid his rings, clean of blood, onto his fingers.
This one goes here, right?
Yeah.
On the second day, his brain didn't care that he hurt. As Steve was telling him about what was going on with the others (Max was staying with the Sinclairs, Dustin's leg was almost healed), Eddie's hand smacked him across the face sharply, the sting of his rings bringing tears to his eyes before he even processed what happened. Steve wordlessly crawled onto the bed, carefully pulled Eddie against himself, and set a pillow over Eddie's lap for when his fists started hitting his legs. He'd just murmured those words, the first words he'd said to Eddie years ago.
It's okay. It's okay.
And he waited until Eddie's body fell lax against him before he carefully found Eddie's hand, laced their fingers, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.
Eddie was released from the hospital a few weeks later. He stayed in the Wheelers' basement for a few days until Steve's parents left town, for good this time, and then he moved into the Harrington house.
He likes it there. Steve is still kind. Always. He lets Eddie lay his head in his lap when his body hurts or won't stop moving, and he drags his fingers through his hair or holds a joint to his lips for him, and he smiles. (Eddie would go through the end of the world all over again for that smile.) When Eddie's head hits the wall while they're in the waiting room of the hospital for a checkup, Steve just shifts to face him and holds a hand up to the back of his head so his hand hits the wall instead, saying quietly that Eddie isn't allowed to beat his record number of concussions. He drives Eddie to Wayne's even though Eddie doesn't tic when he drives except for a few facial or vocal ones.
When Eddie whistles one night, Steve just smiles at him and says Was that a tic or are you hitting on me? and Eddie freezes, his face burning. Which would you prefer, pretty boy?
Steve kisses him.
And then Steve starts holding his hand even when he isn't having tics, even when they're with the Party. Eddie moves into Steve's room. (They always slept better when they accidentally fell asleep on the sofa together anyway.) Steve holds him when his tics are bad, and Eddie holds him during his migraines, pressing kisses as softly as he can to his forehead and his temples. Steve takes his hand when it moves to hit Eddie's face or chest. Eddie stands steady and holds Steve's hand to himself when he gets dizzy. Steve keeps ready-made ice packs in the freezer to hold to Eddie's chest and legs when they bruise from his fists. Eddie keeps his handwriting as neat as possible when he writes notes in case Steve forgets anything. When they wake up at night, breathless and sweaty and crying, the other is there, arms open, lips waiting.
One night Eddie says very softly, You know, they used to say my brain was broken.
Steve just says, Mine too.
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disposal-blueeee · 10 months ago
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another super self-indulgent chapter 20 / 21 drawing
edgar belongs to jhonen vasquez
scriabin belongs to @zarla-s
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doubleedgemode · 5 months ago
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The Dandy with his Hand on his chest
I wanted to do a big piece before the month ended and I had been thinking on drawing a study of "The Nobleman with his Hand on his Chest" by El Greco with Slayer for a good while, because I adore that painting and believe it fits him, since it has a mysterious yet noble aura to me. Very dandy!
I love Slayer's Rev2 Color 4, so I got really happy when it returned as Color 10 in Strive, now with a very stylish nail polish, too.
#ok I'm attempting to keep my kilometric rambles in the tags instead of the post to not scare away people so keep reading if you want#slayer#guilty gear#guilty gear strive#guilty gear fanart#art tag2b named#before this painting I wouldn't have counted the og painting as one of my favs but now I do#I remember first seeing it in an artbook as a kid in which it was described as dismal and that actually scared me lol. It impacted me a lot#for a painting.. nowadays I feel it's awesome but again I still find it to have a bit of a mysterious aura. I hope this doesn't come off as#me going “I don't get this artwork so oooh it's scary!” but me thinking it has an aura that captivates your imagination#that being said I DID want MY version to be a bit unnerving or spooky because. color 10 slayer come on! I hope it worked#tried to do proper more complex lighting this time. I learnt a lot.. I def made the face's more dramatic but couldn't get the rest to look#the same plus I kinda like the face's contrasting with the rest of the lighting. also I do enjoy the end result of the body lighting#slayer's face is so tough.. that alone took me three days#idk what was going on w the background. it's a bit similar to my hos/ab.a pic's but fair enough#one day I'll learn to make complex detailed backgrounds. not today. it kind of came out like sm64d.s character portraits which could be a#bit unsettling for young me so it just works#sorry I enjoyed drawing this a lot so I have a lot of thoughts about it. thank you if you read. hope you enjoy the drawing :)#eye contact
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forsty · 3 days ago
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ngl I actually wanted to do obx fanart but after getting s4 part 2 slammed in my face last week i've just felt so discouraged to do so
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cohozuna · 7 months ago
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one of the biggest things i had to come to grips with art wise is that i can do realism pretty well but just completely fail at anything stylized. sure i can make a pretty picture from what i see but what does it matter when the only thing people take from it is "waow so good thought it was a picture" yeah its a compliment but its one that makes me feel awful bc i realize i do not want my shit to look like a picture. i FUCKING SUUUUCK at drawing and that isnt me being hehe quirky artist who says they cant draw and actually can i mean this shit is difficult as fuck and nobody would understand the extent to how awful i am at actually drawing unless they see me try to. all of my finished pieces were absolutely painstaking and i see ppl do the stuff that takes me many hours much quicker and with more personality with about the same experience shit makes me insane i am trying to learn but my god its like my brain just does not want to cooperate with me it makes it so so hard because i just have an awful mental block. genuinely used to just draw effortlessly (albeit not as well so at least i AM improving somewhat) but now even the simplest shit just overwhelms me. idk what it is. i like to think im pretty good with paintings but god it is so so difficult to do what i wanna without it taking far too long. i am so jealous of ppl who can do quality sketches on a whim. ive noticed i do a lot better blocking out a silhouette and then drawing lines over that when i sketch. makes me think im just not very line-brained?? stupid way to put it idgaf its 5 am. i dont wanna just whinge and cry about it but it is truly aggravating and so deeply frustrating to feel like im regressing in my ability to Just Draw because its undoubtedly a psychological thing. ive just been in this rut for yrs now its awful. thinking about buying a sketchbook again tbh
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sucktacular · 2 years ago
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friendly reminder that if you wanna draw you should draw because I wanna see it and reblog it and eat it so it'll be with me forever
you MADE something!!! that straight up DIDNT exist before??? that's so incredibly metal and amazing and sick as fuck im so proud of you
#i dont care you 'skill level' or whatever nonsense#YOU DID THAT!!!#and my god you should be so proud because I am#i should get magnets to print out ppls art and put on my mini mini fridge that only holds like 4 cans of soda#but like esp if youre in you're 20s??? LATE 20'S???? PAST YOUR 20s???? HOLY SHIT IM SOO SO PROUD OF YOU#cuz its so so hard to get yourself to make and create after youre a kid or a teen#esp if you never really fostered that creativity as a young person#like you DID that you mADE that youre so so amazing#this also applies to writing and crafts and anything where you made something#like ive struggled for a long long time to like my art let alone want to make art but listen listen listen#everytime you make something it gets easier to make it again#you dont have to compare yourself you dont have to strive to draw like whoever#the secret is everyone wants their arts to look better or be better or easier even the really really talented professionals#we are learning creatures no one is perfect and its so so beautiful that that is a thing cuz like#i dont want to see beautiful rendered sistene chapel paintings everyday!!!#like theyre great and im in awe but i could be in awe and enjoying art jim bob down the street doodled on a bench#i see my partner doodle in my notebooks when they make phone calls and are on hold and i think its so beautiful#its just shapes but like they were there and they did that and I didnt? its beautiful and fun and reminds me they were there#you are here and im so glad you are because we get to enjoy things and create and love and just exist#life is hard and we created a society that can be so cynical and were so busy all the time#but i love us i love people i want so badly to love us all because we are different and dont always agree but we create and we exist#and i think thats enough at the end of the day. to just exist.#so you made a lil doodle? i want to see it because ive never seen it before and i think its so awesome genuinely that you did that#sucktacular sucks
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fondcrimes · 6 months ago
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how to promote community-oriented politics/lifestyle while also advocating for the importance of being alone and doing things for yourself… I’m always contradicting myself in this way
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matd0 · 1 month ago
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HELLO HELOO i am. alive. ermm. ok so long story short i am very very tired and unable to do like. anything. :P oof.
here's a toby drawing i completely forgot??? that i did??? like months ago??? found it in my files while looking for any drawings I've actually finished recently and im pretty happy with it so I'm posting it here :''3
honestly i just haven't been happy with anything i've been drawing so only stuff i've done are studies because i want to improve but idk. i feel really self critical. yk how it is being an artist, never feeling happy with your skill level :p i'm working on it though, got pretty into traditional painting for a change? idk i'm trying new stuff to find inspiration. hopefully more art SOON (for sure this time) (idk if i can promise that)
okok health update:
been very very stressed out, basically. got bad again, getting better again?¿? got more help though, so i should be getting therapy maaaybe and help getting back into school, not sure, trying to make something work out. not looking at my phone has been helping
in other news; fall is awesome, love halloween !! birthday is coming up aswell, which is pretty cool 👍👍👍 been hanging out with friends again, which is very nice too. uuuhhhhh the silent hill 2 remake finally came out!!! and it's actually good!!! like really good!!! life has meaning again!!!!
TLDR: I am so very tired. but it will get better, for sure !! just need more time? maybe? in any case, i will be back to post more whenever i am able to. thank you for enjoying my art, it does mean the world to me.
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imaginedisish · 3 months ago
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All I Need (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)
A/N: AHH! This took so, so long. Anyway, here is the period-comfort fic! Needed this. Loosely inspired by "All I Need" By Radiohead and "Let the Light In" by Lana and Father John Misty. Hope you guys enjoy! P.S. I'm so sorry if I forgot to tag you, or if the tags don't work.
Summary: Your period is awful this month, but Logan is there to take care of you...in more ways than one...
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!! SMUT!!! Fingering, PIV, period sex, soft!Logan, praise kink (if you squint), friends to lovers, softdom!Logan (if you squint again), mentions of blood (bc period), so much fluff, feelings, cursing, afab!reader/fem!reader, definitely some grammatical errors bc I struggled through proofreading...and I think that's it!
Word Count: 4,474 it was supposed to be short
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You’re no stranger to pain. You’ve been in countless battles and fought more fights than you can remember. And yet, nothing makes you feel as obliterated as your period does. 
Your cramps have always been terrible, but this time they were particularly bad. You sit in your bed, on a Saturday night, alone, struggling. You couldn’t find the heating pad. You couldn’t find the ice cream you wanted. You couldn’t find anything to watch. And, of course, everything hurts—your breasts are beyond sore, and your head is aching. You look up at the ceiling, wanting nothing more than for your period to be over. 
Your lower abdomen pulses with pain and you groan audibly, not caring how loud you are as you turn over onto your stomach in frustration. 
But then there’s a knock at your door.  
“Hey, everything okay in there?” It’s Logan—of course it’s him. “Didn’t mean to be nosy. Just happened to hear you.”
“I’m okay!” You call out, rolling back onto your side to face the door. 
“Are you sure?” Logan asks. You can hear his hand on the knob. “Can I come in?”
Heat suddenly rises to your chest. Logan? Coming in here? Now? In reality, this shouldn’t be a big deal. Logan has been in your room before—albeit very briefly and in passing—but you can’t help but feel nervous. You’re always nervous around him. You’ve been harboring a crush on him for months now, and it’s brutal. You’ve grown closer, but not quite close enough. At least not in the way you want.
You swallow nervously. “Y-yeah,” you stammer, your voice almost cracking. “You can come in.” 
Logan immediately twists the knob and pushes the door open, stepping inside your room. You can’t help but smile at the sight of his familiar beater and blue jeans. He takes another step and closes the door behind him—he’s just a few feet away from you, his arms crossed over his chest.
He smirks, tilting his head down. “It’s Saturday night, and this is what you’re doing?” He steps towards you, approaching the bed and sitting down. 
“Not feeling great,” you admit, wincing as you sit up in bed. 
Logan’s brows immediately furrow with concern. His hand comes up to rest on your knee, and you have to stop yourself from shuddering under his touch. “Are you okay?” He asks, his thumb drawing gentle circles into your skin. He sniffs once, and you know he can smell the blood between your thighs. “Do you need anything?” 
“I’ll be fine, don’t worry,” you say, trying to politely brush off his concern. You don’t want to trouble him, don’t want to hold him back from his Saturday night plans. But Logan’s brows are still furrowed, concern painted clearly across his face. “Really, I’m okay,” you reassure, but he doesn’t budge. 
“I know you’re not okay,” he says, his eyes looking deeply into yours. “Let me help you, yeah?”
“I’d feel bad. I’d be holding you back from whatever plans you—”
“No plans, princess,” Logan says, cutting you off. You try to hide the way your breath hitches in your throat at the familiar nickname. “Just you. Whatever you need.” He smiles widely, his thumb still drawing circles into your knee. 
It’s so soft, so delicate, so unlike the way Logan is with others. There’s something domestic about this, something especially comforting and gentle. He’s sacrificing his Saturday night for you—to make sure you’re okay. Your heart squeezes in your chest at the thought. 
“Is it bad?” He asks, his voice low and calm. You’re so lost in your thoughts that you almost don’t notice the way Logan inches closer; don’t notice the way his hand slides down to your lower stomach. The warmth of his hand feels so good that you have to stifle a moan at the sudden contact.  
“Y-yeah,” you stammer, leaning into his touch. His hand presses firmly into your stomach, rubbing gently. “But your hand feels nice,” you admit, your voice a bit shaky as the words fall from your lips. 
He’s next to you now, sitting on the edge of the bed, his hips in line with yours. His touch, his presence—it’s all simultaneously relaxing and exhilarating. You’ve never had him this close, never felt him touch you like this. Your heart beats out of your chest as his palm pushes against your aching lower abdomen. He’s in tune with you, registering every movement you make, every half-moan you can’t seem to suppress as his hand soothingly rubs your stomach. 
You watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “Do you want me to get you anything?” He asks, smiling widely. Your mind immediately goes to the lack of ice cream in the freezer, but you’re hesitant to ask. Getting you something would entail leaving. And the last thing you want is for Logan to leave. 
“I’m okay,” you answer, but you know your voice comes out as unsure. 
He arches a brow, his caring smile turning into a knowing smirk. “You sure about that, princess?” He nods his head towards the door. “I saw you all disappointed after lookin’ in the freezer, earlier.”
You can’t help the grin that forms on your face at Logan’s words. He noticed you. “There wasn’t any ice cream left,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. 
Logan chuckles and stands up, his palm slipping away from your stomach. You want to reach out, to yank him down and force his hand back where it was. “I’ll be right back,” he says, walking towards the door. “Don’t move an inch. I mean it!” He keeps his eyes on you as he backs out of the room, opening the door and closing it carefully behind him. 
Not even a minute later, Logan comes back with a silver spoon and a pint of your favorite ice cream. “No way,” you mutter, shaking your head, your smile spreading across your face. “How did you know?”
Logan smirks. “I just do,” he answers, sitting back in his place next to you on the edge of the bed. He passes you the silver spoon and the pint. “Knew that’s what you were looking for. Went out to the store to grab it the second you walked out of the kitchen empty-handed.”
“You’re amazing,” you whisper, still in awe of how he got you the ice cream without asking. He simply noticed. He remembered your favorite flavor—you never had to tell him a thing. He just knew. 
You open the packaging and dig into the ice cream, wrapping your lips around the spoon. “Oh sorry,” you mumble, your mouth full of ice cream as you pull the spoon from your lips. “Do you want some?”
You dig the spoon back into the ice cream and scoop out a big serving, pointing the spoon in Logan’s direction. He smirks before opening his mouth, waiting for you to feed him. Your breath catches in your throat as you hold the spoon up to him. His lips wrap around the ice cream, and he takes the spoon from your hand, his fingertips brushing against yours. 
He sucks and pulls the spoon from his mouth. You swallow harshly at the sight, watching as he digs into the pint and takes another scoop of ice cream, this time bringing the spoon to your lips. You open your mouth, inviting him inside, closing it around the cold ice cream. You silently wish you could taste him on the spoon. 
You grab the spoon from his hands, his fingers lingering before pulling away—like he’d do anything to touch you again, to savor the feeling of your skin against his. 
“Thank you, Logan,” you say, taking another scoop of ice cream and shoving the spoon past your lips. “Really, it means a lot.”
Logan shakes his head, his hand finding that spot on your stomach again. “It was nothing,” he mutters. “I’d do anything for you.” He soothingly rubs side to side, the warmth of his palm enveloping your lower abdomen. “Is there anything else you wanted?” He asks, nodding his head towards the T.V. on the other side of your room. “Wanna watch a movie or something?”
“Sure,” you say back, reaching for the remote on your nightstand. You flick the T.V. on and look over at Logan. “W-would you wanna stay?” You ask, nodding your head to the other side of the bed. 
“Wasn’t planning on going anywhere, princess,” he husks, standing up and walking to the other side of the bed. He settles in next to you, lying down on the mattress. You’re shoulder to shoulder, and his hand quickly finds your lower abdomen again. 
You scroll through the movies on various streaming services, and nothing seems to click until you find an old, campy B-movie from the 80s. You turn to face Logan, grinning widely, pointing the remote to the television. He rolls his eyes playfully as he reads the description. “Whatever you want, pretty girl.”
Your heart stops at the epithet. Pretty girl? Princess, sure—you’re familiar with Logan’s classic princess nickname. But pretty girl was entirely new. Different. Certainly not friendly. Princess was teasing, tongue and cheek—a way to mess with you, to slip under your skin and rile you up. Flirty? Perhaps. But not inherently romantic. Pretty girl? 
Pretty girl seems like…more. 
You decide to take a chance, letting your head rest on Logan’s shoulder as you press play on the movie. You spoon ice cream into your mouth, waiting for Logan’s next move. After a few seconds, he sits up. His shoulder separates from yours, and his arm reaches around your shoulders instead, tugging you into his chest. 
“This okay?” He asks, his lips brushing against the side of your head, pressing what feels like the ghost of a kiss to your temple.
“Y-yeah,” you stutter. “It’s perfect.” You can hear Logan’s heart beating in his chest. It’s loud and fast. His fingertips draw circles into your shoulder as he pulls you closer. 
The movie starts, but you can’t seem to concentrate. You nervously shovel scoop after scoop of ice cream into your mouth, hoping to take your mind off Logan, but it obviously doesn’t work. Not with the way his arms are wrapped around you—one draped around your shoulder while his other hand is tucked in its place against your lower stomach. 
You somehow finish the entire pint, and Logan notices immediately, taking the container from your hands and placing it on the nightstand next to him. His hand is back, soothingly rubbing your abdomen, within the blink of an eye. He’s endlessly attentive, listening carefully to every breath you take, watching every wrinkle in your forehead crease and every wince you make when a bad cramp comes on. 
A sudden, sharp pain builds in your abdomen, and you squeeze your eyes shut, grinding your teeth as the pain worsens. You take a deep breath through your nose and out your mouth.
“Hey,” Logan coos, pressing his hand a bit harder into your belly. “Is it getting bad?” He asks softly, holding you tighter. 
You swallow harshly, taking another deep breath. “Yeah, it hurts right now,��� you choke, wincing as you let yourself lean completely into him. 
Logan pulls you into his lap, one arm draping across the front of your chest while his hand slips underneath the waistband of your athletic shorts. He stops just above your panties. “Is this okay?” He asks, his warm palm messaging your stomach. 
The pressure is so nice, and the heat from his palm is delicious. “Yes,” you groan, your legs intertwining with his. You squirm a bit in his lap, trying to get comfortable. “You’re so warm,” you whisper, turning on your side, still situated between his legs, your head on his chest. “F-feels good.”
Logan presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Are you sure you’re okay?” His arm slides up and down your body before settling on your waist. “You sure you don’t need anything?”
“I-I don’t know,” you admit, pressing your face into the center of his chest. All you can smell is him—pine and musk and denim and leather. It’s perfect, dizzying, distracting. Just need you, you think to yourself. 
“Need me, pretty girl?” Logan asks. You lift your head up, furrowing your brows as you realize you let that thought find its way to your lips and out of your mouth. “I’m right here.” 
His face is just inches away from yours. His breath fans across your nose, your cheeks. His lips are close, too—just a bit closer and you’d be kissing. “L-Lo,” you stutter. “I…” You trail off, unable to form a coherent thought. You can feel the tension in the air, feel the heat building between your thighs. Fuck, you want him. Need him. 
His throat bobs as he swallows. “What’s going on here, sweetheart?” Logan murmurs, his forehead pressing to yours. 
“W-want you,” you admit, your voice shaky. 
“Want you too, darlin’,” he says, his fingertips playing with the waistband of your panties. “Let me take care of you,” he husks. “Let me take the pain away.” And you want him too—more than anything. 
“Please,” you beg as his hand slips under the hem of your panties. You flip the T.V. off and throw the remote to the floor.
His lips finally press against yours, slow and languid. His fingertips find your clit, drawing tight, quick circles around the bud. “I’ll tease you next time, pretty girl,” Logan whispers at the shell of your ear. But all you register is next time. There’s going to be a next time. “Just wanna make you feel good right now.”
“F-fuck,” you moan, your hips rocking against his hand. He swirls around your clit, pinching gently between his strokes. 
Logan’s free hand comes down to your thighs, gripping your flesh tightly and spreading your legs wider. “That feel good, princess?” He rasps, stroking faster. 
Your head falls back to his shoulder. “Yes, so good,” you whimper. His lips find your neck, kissing your pulse point and sucking softly. His hand slides back up your body, slipping underneath your shirt, trailing over your stomach. 
His fingertips climb tentatively towards your chest. You remember you aren’t wearing a bra as Logan’s fingers brush against the underside of your breasts. “Please,” you beg, arching your back into his touch.
Logan presses another kiss to your neck as his hand palms your breasts, massaging gently, alternating between one side and the other. He hikes up your tank top, giving himself better access to all of you. His fingers continue their tight circles on your clit, swirling around, releasing that pressure at the bottom of your stomach. Your walls clench down around nothing as he presses harder into your core. 
“Thought about this for so long,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. “Thought about touching you, fucking you. Wanted you this whole time, sweetheart.”
“Logan,” you moan, bringing your lips to his. “I wanted you too,” you confess. You can feel yourself hitting your peak, ready to fall apart. “I’m c-close.”
“I know, darlin’,” Logan soothes, his fingers quickening. “I’ve got you.” His lips melt against yours, fitting together like magnets, like you were always meant to find each other. “So beautiful,” he murmurs, his tongue swiping along your bottom lip. “Wanna make you come, wanna watch you let go.” 
It all happens so fast—your orgasm crashes into you, and Logan swallows your moans with another kiss. “That’s it, pretty girl,” Logan coos, still stroking your clit. Your walls flutter as pleasure courses through your every nerve ending. His strokes slow down until his fingers rest, unmoving, on your clit. Logan’s hands still palm your breasts, messaging the tender flesh gently. “You okay?” He asks softly. 
“Yeah, p-perfect,” you stutter, curling into his chest. “Felt so good.” 
Logan presses a kiss to the crown of your head. “Relax darlin’,” he husks, taking a deep breath. 
“Lo?” You whisper, looking up at him, his eyes immediately finding yours. “Do you really want me?” You ask, suddenly embarrassed to be saying anything at all, and yet you find yourself rambling. “When you were saying all that when we were—” 
But his lips are on yours again, hungry and desperate. He pulls away like he doesn’t want to—like it hurts to be away from you for even the briefest second. “I want you, pretty girl,” he says, pulling you back into his chest. “You’re all I think about…” He trails off, his voice less stable than it was just seconds ago. “You’re all I need.” 
“Logan,” you say, smiling widely. “I’ve wanted you for months. I didn’t know you felt the same way.” 
You can feel his chuckle reverberate through his chest. “How could I ever want someone else?” He asks. There’s levity in his voice, but you know he’s being serious. “You’re it. You make me think that…” he pauses, and you look up from his chest. “You make me think that there’s some purpose to all this.” He meets your gaze, and you can see the sudden shift in his expression. His eyes are glossed over. He works his jaw. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this. For love. For you.” 
You know that Logan has had everything taken from him, time and time again. He’s an undeniably selfless person, the type of person who would let the world destroy him to protect those he loves—and he has—it’s happened. But he’s still here, and now he’s here with you. He deserves happiness. He deserves love. And the thought that he finally feels those things with you is too much to bear. You try to smile, but you can’t help the tears brimming in your eyes. “I love you,” you whisper. “So much.” 
“I love you too, beautiful.” 
His lips are on yours again, melding, coming together, building something unbreakable. You straddle him, his hands finding your hips. He squeezes firmly, keeping you in place on top of him. His tongue swipes your lower lip, asking permission to slip inside, and you happily oblige. You want Logan, all of him, now. Forever. 
“Always gonna want you, just you,” he mumbles against your lips. “So fucking beautiful. Never wanted anyone like this.” His hands guide your hips to roll over his. Your core drags along his erection—large and straining against his jeans. 
“Want you so bad,” you whine, grinding down onto him. But then you remember the reason Logan is here in the first place. “B-but I’m on my—”
Logan rocks his hips against yours, ignoring you. “As long as you want this pretty girl, I want this. Don’t care about that.”
Fuck.
You nod, your lips pressing to his. He swallows your whines, his tongue brushing against yours, his teeth grazing your lower lip. His hands slide up and down your back, your tank top still hiked up over your breasts. Logan’s nails trail across your skin, drawing along your curves, taking in every inch of you. 
You bring your hands down his chest, finding the hem of his beater. You tug it up his body, revealing his skin. “You want this off?” He asks, smiling against your lips. You nod, and he breaks contact for just a split second, tugging his shirt up and over his head. 
He’s so beautiful, his abs, the thick, dark hair scrawling across his chest. You bite your lip at the sight. “You’re perfect,” you mutter, letting your hands feel his exposed skin, searching him, growing familiar with his every curve.
He smirks, his hands finding your hips again, squeezing tightly. “That’s all you, princess,” he rasps, shaking his head. “Beautiful girl.” 
You grind your hips against his again, and he presses his forehead to yours. “Need you, Lo.” His arms wrap around your back, pulling you in so that your chest is flush with his. Your fingertips find his belt, fumbling with the buckle until you get it undone, and sliding the leather out of the loops of his jeans. You toss it to the floor and quickly work at his button and zipper. 
“Slow down, sweetheart,” Logan chides, grabbing your wrists with one of his massive hands. “Let’s take it easy, yeah?”
You can’t help but pout. “But I want you so bad,” you whine, grinding down onto him. Logan groans, his hips bucking up into yours. He brings his hands to the hem of his jeans and tugs them down. You take the opportunity to grab a condom from the drawer of the nightstand next to you. 
When you look back, Logan’s erection is free from his jeans. He’s massive, so much bigger than you ever imagined. You swallow harshly, handing him the condom with shaky hands. He smirks, opening the little package and rolling the condom over his cock. “Don’t worry, darlin’,” he husks. “Gonna take it slow, okay?”
“Okay,” you mumble, and then his hands are on your hips again, flipping you onto your back so that he’s hovering over you. He quickly finds the hem of your shorts, and you lift your hips up a little, helping him tug them, along with your panties, down your legs. He places them at the end of the bed and lowers back down over you. 
He balances on his forearm as his free hand guides his cock to your folds, sliding through you, nudging against your clit. “You have no idea how much I need you,” Logan whispers, his tip teasing your entrance. “No idea how much I love you.” 
He shoves himself deep inside you with one thrust, bottoming out, down to the hilt. “Fuck,” he curses, his cock filling you up, stretching you out, giving you a chance to adjust to the sheer size of him. “You feel so good,” he praises. “Knew you’d feel perfect. Fucking made for me.”
He finally pulls out only to thrust back in, somehow deeper this time. “Logan,” you moan, your nails digging into his muscular back. “S-so big, so good,” you breathe, stumbling over your words. 
“Love it when you say my name, pretty girl,” Logan pants, slipping out and pumping back in, setting a slow, languid pace. His free hand reaches between your bodies, his fingertips finding your clit with ease. He draws those familiar, tight, rapid little circles into your bud. 
You curse under your breath as he splits you open, his pace growing faster every few thrusts or so. He’s holding back, and you can see it in his face—his eyes all dark as he works his jaw, feigning patience. You know he wants more—to take all of you and make you his. 
“Logan, y-you don’t have to…” You trail off, your eyes fluttering closed as he hits that sweet spot deep inside you. 
“Eyes on me, pretty girl,” he says, demand in his voice. Your eyes flutter back open. “What do you need?” He asks, softer now, attentive as ever.  
His fingers swirl against your clit, adding more pressure with every careful stroke, making it near impossible for you to form a coherent thought. “Y-you don’t have to hold back,” you stammer as he sinks into you. “I-I can take it.”
He presses a kiss to your lips as he pumps in and out. “Just wanna take care of you this time, beautiful.” He pinches your clit lightly before stroking again. “Next time I’ll take you how I want.” There it is again. Next time. 
His hips snap against yours, his fingers working dexterously at your clit. It’s all too much, the way he bites your lips, burying his face into the crook of your neck and kissing your pulse point, whispering praises against the shell of your ear. Taking me so well. Doing so good for me, darlin’. So fucking beautiful. Such a good girl. 
His cock drags along your walls, and you clench down around him. He twitches inside you as he buries himself deeper, hitting that sweet spot again and again. “Logan,” you whine, your eyes struggling to stay open. “I’m so close.” Logan’s cock throbs as the words fall from your lips. 
“F-fuck,” he stutters, his composure slipping. “I know, princess. Me too.” His hips rock into yours, his pace growing faster with every hit. “Wanna feel you come on my cock, wanna get there with you.” 
You arch your back, your chest pushing flush against his. “Yes,” you moan as he thrusts into you, the pads of his fingers firmly circling your clit. It’s too much—you know you’re coming undone, unraveling underneath him. Your walls clench down around him again. 
“That’s it, beautiful,” Logan soothes. “Come with me.”
The tension snaps, splitting in two. It’s uncontrollable, a raging fire, blinding heat. You let go, melting into the mattress, your orgasm wracking through your body. Logan twitches inside you, and you know he’s coming too. You’re trembling underneath him, legs shaking as his thrusts slow down. With one more slow pump, Logan stills inside you. His fingers stroke your clit lightly, working you through your high, bringing you back down to Earth. 
After a few seconds, his fingers slip away, and he pulls out of your cunt. You can’t help but feel empty now that he’s gone, already craving more of him. He sits up on his knees and climbs off the bed, taking the condom from his cock and tossing it into the garbage. He grabs his boxers from off the floor and tugs them on. 
Before you can beg him to come back, he’s crawling onto the bed. He grabs your panties and your shorts, dragging them up your legs, making sure everything is back in its right place. 
“You okay, pretty girl?” He asks, tugging you into his chest. “You need anything? New pad? Water?”
“I’m okay,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to the center of his chest. “Just need you.”
You can feel him smiling against the crown of your head. “You have me, beautiful.” He whispers. “Always gonna have me.” He tugs the sheets and the comforter over your bodies, the warmth of him and your bed dragging you under the current of sleep. 
You wake up a few hours later. Logan is still there, next to you, his arms holding you tightly to his chest. 
“Lo,” you whisper into the darkness of your room.
“I’m here.” His voice is cloudy, tired, filled with sleep. “Never gonna be anywhere but here.” He presses a kiss to the crown of your head. “Go back to sleep.”
“I love you,” you say, because you can, because you mean it.
You can hear the sleepy smile in his voice. “I love you too.”
tags: @banlaineslawyer @gothgoblinbabe @alsoprettyinpink @librababe99 @ponygyatt @yoursrosie @itdobe-foggy @gplol @healmydesires @qardasngan @princessterek @alastorssimp @yawnetu @chronicallybubbly @corvid007 @muffin-berry @emmdog2999 @kieekto @creepsbeware @starrdustss @evasmlp @figsnpassionfruits @spiderset @ilysmdovie12 @silversprings-mp3 @prettyseaveins @derbygracie @pedrohoe04 @wittyjasontodd @theasiaabattoir @movhoney @honeyfwr @fanfic-writing-barbie @manipulatour @cosmiccandydreamer
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anxiousbabybird · 10 months ago
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Love and Deepspace men x fem!reader slightly unhinged and NSFW HCs, PART 2!
Once again, minors do not interact! I made you guys a part 2 of my current thoughts. No plot or card spoilers in my comments or reblogs, please and thank you 💙
Part 1
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Rafayel
Have you met this man? He wants to know where you’re at and who you’re with at all times. So jealous. It’s probably in your best interest to forget other men exist once you’re dating him
Convinced you to suck his dick while he’s painting to see if it helps convey emotion into his painting—he accidentally pushed the paintbrush through the canvas when he came
Loves when you ride him—it’s so cute watching you bounce on him and use his body for your own pleasure. This also allows him to sit back a little and enjoy every sound you make, every facial expression, every feeling. Of course he does eventually get bored and flips you onto your back for his turn
Before you’re dating, he persuades you into being a nude model for him. He takes his time caressing your skin and telling you he has to “feel” the art, lets his hands wander and linger as he moves your body little by little until you’re in the exact position he wanted. Spends hours staring at your naked body, pretending to draw it (he finished his sketch hours ago but he doesn’t want you getting dressed yet)
Kinks/fetishes: biting, marking, breeding, spit, primal, spanking, mirror sex, praise, wax, shibari, choking, exhibitionism
Loves a pussy job—just sliding his cock between your folds and tapping at your clit like he’s knocking on a door until he cums all over you. Loves this for two reasons: 1) you look exquisite with your clit swollen and body spattered in cum, and 2) the banter between the two of you during a pussy job is top tier. It’s not quite degradation, but you’re both going back and forth in the most teasing way, riling each other up.
Has the biggest praise kink. He thinks he might actually die if you don’t tell him how amazing he is at least 12 times a day
Part of the pretty dick club. It’s actually perfect—thick but not too thick, long but not too long, nice veins wrapping around and well groomed at the base. Some would say it’s perfect.
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Xavier
Sometimes when he’s flustered by you, his body emits a soft glow because of his evol. You notice it for the first time when you surprise him with a kiss to his cheek. He glows a little brighter the first time he kisses your lips too.
He’s fallen asleep during sex before. Usually after several rounds, he’s cum twice already, and you’re laying on your sides on the bed and he’s lazily thrusting into you from behind and all of a sudden he stops. Sheathed inside you and an arm around your waist. When you look over your shoulder, he’s sounds asleep and already softly snoring. You have no choice but to do the same, falling asleep in his arms and keeping his cock nice and warm all night
His favorite position is missionary where your legs are wrapped around his waist and he’s slowly, deeply thrusting into you. He likes seeing every expression on your face, really feeling you sucking him in, hearing every breathy moan you try to hide from him. And he likes that he can kiss you whenever he wants
Likes to read at night, even though he falls asleep doing it. When you start staying nights at his place, he convinces you to read out loud to him and you do that every night until he falls asleep with his head on your chest.
Kinks/fetishes: hair pulling (he likes when you give a little tug), overstimulation, marking, cum play, face sitting, cockwarming
Loves fresh flowers and brings you new ones every week. He thinks they’re pretty and hopes you appreciate them the way he does. Sometimes he buys them or sometimes he picks them from some lush patch in the forest. Always takes some for himself so he knows when they start dying and he needs to get you new ones.
Loves to lay his head in your lap so you can play with his hair
The kind of guy who will keep his hand holding yours no matter what because he wants to make sure you’re staying beside him. Sometimes takes one of your hands and puts it in the pocket of his sweatshirt with his just so it stays warm.
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Zayne
He was very opposed to fucking in the hospital at first but then on a day he was super stressed, you stopped by and sucked him off under his desk while he reviewed charts and he was able to successfully perform a surgery other doctors thought was inoperable—he was more lenient on sex in the hospital after that
Kinks/fetishes: size kink, spanking, brat taming, choking, degradative praise, impact (spanking/flogging/paddle), breeding, edging/denial, thigh riding, dirty talk
Has absolutely bent you over his knee to spank you when you’re being a brat and talking back to him all the time with no regard for your own well being. All he wants is to take care of you because you never take care of yourself. And he would take the best care of you.
Cunt smacks. No further explanation needed.
Favorite sex position is prone bone. He likes hitting it from the back because sometimes the prolonged eye contact that can come with facing each other makes him uncomfortable. But doggy style isn’t what he wants because he wants to feel your body against his, holds you as close as possible. This position works best because every inch of him is atop you and he can feel your body there beneath him, he gets to tuck his head into your neck to bite or kiss or moan into, he’s close to your ear and can whisper filthy things or tell you how close he is or how good you feel around him, and most of all, this position has him so fucking deep inside you that he swore nothing in this life felt better the first time he entered you in this way
Allergic to saying nice things to you 98% of the time.
He runs cold because of his evol and sometimes when he cums, it feels like ice inside of you. Made you scream in surprise the first time but leads to some fun temperature play where he uses his tongue to warm you up after. He’s also often cold and loves to curl up against you and tell you that you’re his heater.
#ThickDickClub
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@luffysprincess @seraphofthesimps @adaurielle
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8mitsurikanroji8 · 1 year ago
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𝒦𝓃𝓎 𝒞𝓇𝓊𝓈𝒽 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈
ɪɴꜰᴏ : ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɴʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼
𝘛𝘢𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘳𝘰. 𝘡𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘶. 𝘐𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘶𝘬𝘦. 𝘔𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘰 . 𝘚𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪 . 𝘖𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘪 . 𝘎𝘪𝘺𝘶 . 𝘒𝘺𝘰𝘫𝘶𝘳𝘰 . 𝘔𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘪. 𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘣𝘶.
────────────────────────
𝐓𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 ⋆˙⟡♡
. Not obvious at all ?
. He’s a sweatheart to everyone he meets ahem Tanjiro effect?
. Blushes whenever you get close ><
. Would offer moments with you
. “Y/n want to eat together ?” “Y/n want to train together?” “Y/n want to take a stroll” etc
. You think nothing of it but for him his heart beats fast and is comforted by these actions
. Doesn’t realize he has a crush on you
. Just thinks you have an amazing personality that draws him in
. It’s just that, right ?
. He finally gets the hint when you guys were alone on a stroll catching the sunset. He caught himself staring at you while smiling as you stood and watched the sun fall, painting the sky orange
. His face goes RED when he realizes ><
. He turns away trying to calm himself down
. You notice, concerned, you take your hand and put it on his face thinking he has a fever
. Faces is literally fire
. Other than that you don’t really realize his feelings for you as he seems to be the same. Only asking for more time with you and more blushing but your mind waves it off
. Little do you know he stares at you while your mind is adrift thinking
. His heart beats fast and his eyes soften
. Yep. He likes you.
𝐙𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮 ⋆˙⟡♡
. Now this one you KNOW [ Sorta ]
. I mean he ask you to marry him only 2 minutes in meeting for the first time
. “YOURE THE PRETTIEST GIRL I HAVE EVER MET. PLEASE MARRY ME!”
. You are dumbfounded with his open admiration
. A little flatter? Yes. Caught off guard ? 100%
. Soon within getting to know him you learn of his lovely dovey personality
. Realizing he is like this with every girl you push aside his comments of marriage and admiration
. I mean he would say that to any one, right ?
. Wrong [ also right tho >< ]
. He would say this to almost every girl he’s met
. But after you ? Oh honey
. You don’t realize how he’s actually fallen for you. Deeply
. Follows you around like a duck
. Someone criticize you [ Even if it’s just critiquing so you know what to work on ]
. That person will not hear the end of it
. “Y/N IS THE BEST PERSON EVER AND IS THE GREATEST DEMON SLAYER SO YOU SHUT UP!”
. Cringey ? Mhm. Cute ? A little.
. If you use sweet words to him [ You mostly say them to everyone tho ] like “honey” “sweetie” “cutie” “sweetheart”
. What color do you want your wedding bouquet?
. He’s planning it all
𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞 ⋆˙⟡♡
. You don’t know and neither does he ._.
.”FIGHT ME RIGHT NOW. LETS SEE WHO WINS!”
. That’s something you will never hear the end of
. He has no idea about what a crush is nor love
. He just thinks you’re a good fighter and wants to fight you whenever he can
. And you just think he’s being his normal weird self :)
. You don’t mind it [ usually ]
. He likes to eat with you
. If you both are heading to a mission and forget to pack yourself food
. He will eat his infront of you and say
. “HAHA IDIOT”
. You roll your eyes ignoring him
. Suddenly his food is being shoved down your throat no comment added
. You better not ask about it
. Your ears won’t be able to handle anymore of his yelling blabber
. But you take his action to heart and enjoy it
. His face is a bit pink
. BUT only because his boar head is warm, right ?
. Sureeee ._.
𝐌𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨 ⋆˙⟡♡
. Who are you again ?
. Oh right. The one who gives him the hebegebees
. Jkjkjk
. well
. He’s too lost in the clouds to realize his feelings for you or even realize you’re the only one who’s company doesn’t annoy him or pushes away
. And you don’t realize because his vocabulary is just so grand
. “Mhm” “No” “Yes “I believe so” “What did you say?” “I assume” “Could be” “I have no opinion”
. You tag along him to the point where others know
. “Oh there’s Muichiro. Y/n must be near”
. And vice versa
. He doesn’t realize how close together you guys alway are
. When you’re away on a mission he finds himself with a unfamiliar feelings
. Oh you’re back! Never mind the feeling is gone nothing to worry about !
. You just like his character and enjoy spending time with him
. He won’t realize but he thinks the same
. And more ><
. Both of these are unaware to you and him
𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢 ⋆˙⟡♡
. Oh boy
. You may be strong both physically and mentally
. You’re enduring both his need to constantly train and his vicious tongue
. You most likely match his adittuide
. Oh he’s got something to say? So do you
. Everyone believes he HATES you
. I mean he does insult you and always wants to fight
. Poor guy doesn’t know what it is he’s feeling
. He didn’t really see romantic love in his childhood
. So he just stuffs those fast heart beat, pink cheeks and fuzzy feeling deep down and try’s to ignore it
. He doesn’t realize but one of the reason he always want to spear with you is because you guys spend close time together
. Also because he’s Sanemi
. And you being you, you don’t mind and take it as another challenge to conquer
𝐎𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐢 ⋆˙⟡♡
. You talk and he doesn’t
. Perfect match <3
. Here goes another damage one !
. His love language is definitely quality time
. You’re eating ? Under [ or up ] a tree? Simply walking around the garden ?
. Oh look there he is too!
. He definitely catches on to his physical and emotional reactions to you
. And you just thinks you guys are the closets of friends !
. You guys always seem to travel together
. Even in your free time you are found with him strolling around a village together
. Some one insults you?
. You’ll just ignore it and move on
. He doesn’t. Pray for that person.
. Kaburamaru seems to have also found a fondness for you
. He may be jealous of that fact
𝐆𝐢𝐲𝐮 ⋆˙⟡♡
. You don’t know what the others are talking about
. Giyu is lovely to talk to !
. He may be one of your favorite hasira to spend time with ♡
. He’s gentle and kind spoken [ with his little use of words ]
. He pays for your meals no matter how hard you insist and listen to you ramble for hours on end with no sign of annoyence
. Why would the others hate him?
. He’s like this with everyone, right ?
. Oh honey.
. You take these actions as part of his character, while he assume he act this way because of his admiration for you being so nice to him !
. I mean you are one of the few who do talk to him without insult
. It never clicks for him what the feeling really is
. That’s until one day
. [ Shinobu ] “Good evening Tomioka”
. [ Giyu ] “Evening Shinobu”
. [ Shinobu ] “You look as bland and boring as ever. How are you”
. [ Giyu ] *no answer*
. [ Shinobu ] “I must say without your little friend you somehow appear more dull. It is odd to catch a moment with you two apart”
. [ Giyu ] *nothing*
. [ Shinobu ] *Giggles* “It’s almost like you two are in a romantic relationship with how close you are.”
. His heart stops with that comment
. And his brain finally realize the feeling
. I mean he’s never felt this way before ♡
. His eyes trail off and soften, catching Shinobu attention
. [ Shinobu ] *Giggles* “ I was only just kidding. It’s not like someone like Y/n could admire your dull personality”
. Oh. Right.
𝐊𝐲𝐨𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐨 ⋆˙⟡♡
. “YOU ARE ONE SKILLED SLAYER” “I ADMIRE YOUR TECHNIQUES” “GREAT JOB” “YOU HAVE INCREDIBLE SKILLS” “WONDERFUL WORK”
. He praises you non stop
. I mean who wouldn’t with your talent !
. You take his compliments as a part of his cheerful personality and respect it
. And maybe take a bit of flattery with it ><
. He does too
. He just admires you skill is all
…….
. He offers to dine with you or take you out to eat
. “Y/N WOULD YOU LIKE TO SPEND TIME AND DINE WITH ME!?”
. [ You ] “Oh um, sure okay!”
. “SPLENDID, LETS GET ON OUR WAY!”
. He always ask where you are
. Remembers the small things
. You like that color ? Oh look he just bought you a keychain with it. That’s your favorite food? Guess that’s where you guys are eating tonight
. His acts of romantic feelings fly over both of your guys head
. But not to anybody else
. *Kyojuro and you side by side laughing together*
. [ Slayer 1 ] “Are they together?”
. [ Slayer 2 ] “isn’t it obvious ?”
𝐌𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐢 ⋆˙⟡♡
. You guys are actually inspectable
. Always together <3
. She loves your company !
. Mitsuri finds everything about you adorable
. From they way you eat to your fighting techniques
. You make her feel safe ♡
. More touchy with you than others [ expect hugs, face pokes and hand holding when she’s around ]
. She definitely realizes her feelings for you
. She is the love hashira after all
. But she doesn’t act on it afraid you won’t feel the same and forever ruin the relationship you guys already have
. She’s oblivious to the shared love you have for one another
. *Mitsuri thoughts* Oh they just see me as a friend
. Mhm okay ._.
𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐮 ⋆˙⟡♡
. This one is a slow burn
. Every mission with you she seems to oddly enjoy
. Whenever you walk into her estate she feels a warmth
. Her heart flutters whenever you hug her or compliment her
. Your smile makes her smile
. She always watches you [ not in a creepy way >< ]
. She just finds herself drunk on the way your eyes light up
. Once it hits her why she feel this way poor girl try’s to ignore it
. Afraid to allow herself to get too close in this field of work
. But the heart wants what is wants ♡
. You begin to dine after missions together
. Have light conversation when running into each other
. And occasionally meet ups outside of work
. She compliments you often
. Once you start to spend more time together she will accidentally graze her hand over you thigh or your fingers just to see you reaction
. This girl knows what she’s doing
────────────────────────
A/n
ᴀʜʜ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰɪɴɪꜱʜᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ ! ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ !! ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ꜰʀᴇᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱʜᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴘɪɴɪᴏɴ. ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇꜱꜱᴀɢᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ <3 ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴄᴀʀᴇ 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
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