#this is not directed at anyone btw i just feel this way about one of my coworkers on other social like i feel like they hate me with passio
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ganondoodle · 1 year ago
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i have grown kinda tired of all the studio ghibli and totk comparisons bc i love most of miyazakis movies and its so annoyingly obvious that if totk actually took inspiration from them its all just the surface level aesthetic and none of the good story telling
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polarmary · 7 months ago
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I’ve come across some posts stating that Kotoko having a normal upbringing and no trauma would make more sense with the whole “being able to see yourself in the characters” and that “anyone can be/ turn out this way” unlike if she had an unhealthy upbringing and a traumatic past but, bear with me-
This post is not about her ideals in any way, as those can form in someone that suffered injustice themselves, watched injustice happen in front of them or simply watches the news.
What I want to say is that, when it comes to looking at someone - or a character for that matter - and being able to think “that could be me/I could turn out like this” comes with specific circumstances. After all, which makes you feel like it could be you, a character that didn’t go through any hardship or trauma going after their goal or a character that went through trauma and hardship? Doesn’t the latter give a feeling of “if they can end up like that then maybe I can too” even if you never went through anything yourself?
The “normal” character already had a head start - not having mental or physical problems blocking their way - While some “normal” people could still be able to view the character as someone they could turn out to be, others couldn’t and specifically people that went through trauma and bad upbringings. They would be put apart, the thought it gives is simply “of course, they didn’t have to go through xxxx, I could never turn out like this” and that breaks the whole purpose of this type of character no?
However, a character that does have a complicated past that left scars - either mentally or physically or even both - still choosing to chase after their goal instead of giving up does give a feeling of it being possible to become like them no matter what your upbringing was, not setting anyone apart and truly being what this type of character is supposed to be!
Of course this is merely my opinion on the subject, I’m not the voice of reason after all!
I also want to note that I’m not trying to say that kotoko’s behaviour/ mentality and ideals are a good thing to have as they are both harmful to others but also much more harmful to herself
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brown-little-robin · 28 days ago
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you restore my faith in humanity. idk you're just so genuine and unobstructed from being yourself and loving everything around you. every time i think the world sucks i think about Robin From Tumblr and i'm like Hm maybe it isn't all bad
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AW THANKS <33333 I TRY
#favorite posts <3#I didn't come to humanity pre-fabricated with no barriers to love I've just been. working on it y'know. and I've been shaped this way#ok and not to get religious on you but#(points at my ani-sama the Christ) he helped#mostly by putting a lot of wonderful people around me so I could see his love working in them. in humanity#btw this is a tangent but I absolutely adore this Japanese Christian term for Jesus: ani-sama#because ''ani'' is such an intimate casual direct way to say ''big brother''. to the point of almost being rude how intimate it is#and -sama is the highest honorific <333 and together it's just so good because it's like. yeah. my deeply revered adored big brother#he who I respect and love and who is closer to me relationally than anyone else while also higher in status than me (positive)#it really wraps up the feeling of going ''oh I want to be like you''. the kind of literal hero worship only a good big brother can inspire#(looking at all my mutuals + honorary mutuals) do they know I can see god in them? do they know their love and goodness is divine#I got an extra half hour of sleep tonight and it's making me so sappy about humanity. we are such wonderful beings we have so much potentia#—potential every single one of us#but yeah it has taken me so much intentional taming my fears and comforting the lonely little child who lives inside me to get this way#basically what I'm trying to say is THANK YOU SO MUCH and also YOU CAN DO IT TOO <333 and also THANK YOU EVERYONE WHO HELPED#–ME GET HERE
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eldrichfuck666 · 1 year ago
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why every time i log on tumblr i feel like everyone hates me secretly and hardly can interact because of this stupid feeling like something bad is going to happen or that i shouldn't try to interact with anyone since it's useless and everyone literally hates me with passion already and everything i do and say is wrong and bad and i shouldn't exist?... LIKE I SWEAR every time i'm online i feel just like that for no reason at all... maybe i shouldn't be here at all?.. i hate feeling this way since i barely get any hate and like.. its just the inner feeling and my brain
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tender-rosiey · 1 year ago
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“GOOD! NOW PUNCH HIS FACE!”
— when your baby and gojo, geto, nanami, toji, and sukuna get protective over you (f!reader)
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a/n: I am alive!! as an apology here is a multi-character post 🙏 btw in toji's part, you're megumi's mom
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GOJO SATORU:
two peas in a pod, twins, copies: these are all things people have called your husband and son.
honestly, they’re not wrong. your son has his father’s looks—satoru swears he has your nose and ears but anyway—and he carries the same protectiveness and love he holds for you, if not amplified.
you can’t count on one hand the amount of times the house has been turned upside down because of their fights for a cuddle session with you.
of course, you have always tried suggesting them simply sharing you, but these problem children would rather eat raw zucchini than ever share the cuddle time.
so while your son is barely six, you can still count on him to team up with satoru against anyone who wrongs you in anyway like what’s happening right now for example.
you’re out with your lovely family to buy some groceries, and since they both were whining about getting some sweets, you allowed them to go and snatch a couple from the next aisle.
on the other hand, you stayed to look for another type of detergent to clean the floor—especially since satoru got this new type of paint for s/n and it’s quite an endeavor to remove it with a regular detergent.
however, being in the cleaning supplies section never guaranteed the lack of filthy men who can’t take no for an answer. this one man approaches you, smug grin on his face as he leans on the wall, “what’s a pretty lady like you doing alone?”
“buying groceries like a normal person; now please leave me alone.”
he quickly frowns, “don’t be so stingy doll,” his hand extends towards your arm, “I can show you a good time; I promise—“
the man is swiftly smacked with an egg on his face, and he is left with the egg dripping down his face, “what’s your wrong with your kid, man?!” he yells at the person behind you.
he then grumbles, “ruined a potential good night.”
“my kid was absolutely right in what he did,” you hear satoru’s voice. you then feel a hand on your shoulder, and you’re pulled into a chest you’re all too familiar with, “’toru—“
your husband shoots a small smile your way, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, before looking at his son, “that last throw was very good, s/n! throw another one but just below his stomach."
a cheshire cat-like grin is plastered on your husband’s face as s/n prepares to launch another egg at the man.
there is a very evident scowl on your son’s face as he yells, “don’t you ever bother mama again, you stinky bum crumb!”
the man gasps and tries to make a run for it, but your son wouldn’t be the son of gojo satoru if he doesn’t manage to land the hit exactly where he wants.
the man quickly crumbles to the ground screaming and alerting literally everyone in the store.
so satoru picks both you and s/n and makes a run for it.
you hold tightly onto him, “wait, ‘toru, the groceries!”
“we can always order! saving my princess and son is more important!”
your son grumbles, “but I want to hit the rude man!”
“me too, champ, but—“ satoru sweat-drops and glances behind him, “I doubt the angry security guards would like that!”
GETO SUGURU:
your twin girls are one of the sassiest to exist.
in a way, they take after their father who is also pretty sassy but very low-key.
the sass of all three combined is terrible to be the victim of. luckily for you, they don’t dare direct their triple ray towards you, especially—in any argument—at least one will try to win you over.
if it’s suguru trying to stay on your good side, then he is hugging you from behind, pressing feather-like kisses on your shoulder and whispering about how sweet you are. if it’s the girls, then they cling to your legs and keep yelling about how much they love you.
so it is safe to say that you have a small squad to protect you from any potential “danger”.
“oh my, dear shouldn’t you focus on refining yourself a bit more?” you hear a woman say beside you.
you turn towards her, offended, “excuse me?”
“I mean,” her eyes scan you, disapprovingly, “you look average at best, and with that you won’t be able to find yourself a husband, let alone have children.”
you’re still processing her audacity as she continues, “but then again, it’s probably for the better that you don’t have children; you can barely take care of yourself.”
“can I help you?” your husband says as he approaches the woman.
she smiles condescendingly before chuckling, “I was simply telling this lady to take care of herself more; she hardly looks presentable.”
geto’s smiles tenses up as he is about to give the woman a calm peace of his mind, but his daughters beat him to it.
your older twin stands in front of the woman, scanning her with pure disgust in her eyes.
she grimaces and voices out her thoughts, “you are like a crunchy lizard.”
the woman gasps, “how dare you—!”
you cut off the woman, curious about your daughter’s conclusion, “why a crunchy lizard, sweetheart?”
your daughter looks at you with a small frown, shaking her head, “a crunchy lizard is an ugly sad lizard.”
a snort escapes your husband, and you’re barely able to contain your smile.
your other daughter follows up, looking at her twin sister, “the lady looks like that one green thingy we saw yesterday,” she taps her little foot, trying to remember and beams at the woman, “shrek! you look like shrek!”
then they both glare at her, frowning, “you’re a monkey!”
your husband doesn’t let it go as he deals the final—subtle—blow, “come on now girls; we shouldn’t bully the lady with the mcdonald’s like hairline anymore.”
it seems like the woman can’t take it anymore as she starts sobbing and running to the hills.
a moment of silence is shared across the four of you, before you carry both of your girls in your arms and start tickling them, “I don’t know whether to be proud of you or scold you, little evil girls!”
they squeal, trying to escape your hold and calling for their father.
geto chuckles and wraps his arms around the three of you, “let them have it for tonight, y/n,” he ruffles their hair, “they were brave and defended their mom, after all.”
“yeah, papa is right!”
“yes mama, please!”
you pout then smirk at geto, “well I don’t mind, and since papa is also very proud of you girls, he will buy any toy that you guys want today!”
the color drains from your husband’s face, and he watches motionlessly as his girls latch onto him, screaming about the toys they want.
you giggle at his expression and blow him a kiss. he reluctantly blows you one back, while the girls excitedly pull him towards the toy store.
NANAMI KENTO:
you and your husband were blessed with the sweetest girl as your daughter, and she was just recently joined by another sweet girl.
you can never forget the happiness on your daughter’s face when she saw her baby sister.
it also seems that no matter how many times you give birth, your husband can’t help but get emotional when he holds your baby. his hands are forever delicate as he cradles her to his chest.
you remember what he said during the birth of your first daughter.
“I feel like a piece of heaven has been plucked and placed in my arms.”
the way he always goes soft for the three of you is honestly adorable.
today, you were going on an outing with your—now 6 months old—baby and your older daughter who is almost six.
your husband never brags about his muscular form, but he never misses a chance to carry the baby or the baby supplies.
you have offered to at least carry the bag, but he always refuses, stating that ‘you already carried the baby for nine entire months in your belly; this is the least I can do.’
so yeah, sometimes you wish to smooch your husband till forever, but that’s not the point.
you’re walking hand in hand with your daughter as she sings her favorite song. you hear someone click their tongue, so you look to the side and lock eyes with an old lady. she takes the opportunity and approaches you.
“you should be ashamed of yourself!” she yells pointing at you, “your husband shouldn’t be carrying the baby supplies nor the baby itself for the matter,” she scowls, “that’s your job!”
“with all due respect ma’am, but that isn’t her job, and taking care of the baby should be something we are both responsible for.”
“yeah!” your daughter huffs, “and don’t take out your sad life on my mama!”
your eyes widen as you stare at your daughter.
on the other side, your husband is just as speechless. your daughter pays no one any mind as she continues, “mama works hard every day! you wouldn’t know that! you immature nugget!”
nanami frowns lightly, “d/n, that’s not nice—“
and for the cherry on top, your baby daughter throws the bottle cap she was playing with at the old lady, and frowns at her.
she starts babbling some nonsense that you're pretty sure are curse words in baby language.
having had enough, the old lady huffs, “the utter disrespect,” and starts walking away.
the rest of the spectators’ eyes follow her till she is out of sight. finally then, people start minding their own business, and you and your little family are left to the aftermath.
you giggle, “that was funny.”
“really?!” your daughter beams.
nanami cuts her off, “no,” he then looks at you with a small frown, a sigh escaping his lips, “y/n don’t encourage them—“
your baby daughter screams happily when she sees her sister smile. she starts kicking her feet with the biggest smile on her own face.
your older daughter starts laughing with her and tries to make her little sister laugh more—she was successful.
meanwhile, you chuckle, leaning on your husband’s shoulder, “admit it, kento; it was kind of funny.”
his resolve softens at the sound of laughter from all three of his girls, “okay, maybe a little, but—“
“yay!!”
ladies: 1
kento: 0
FUSHIGURO TOJI:
your husband and son are so alike, save for the part that your husband is a bit more shameless, and your son is more on the shy side.
however, they both have the same bluntness and the tendency to give anyone who they don’t like attitude.
for example, today, you were walking in the park with the both of them to unwind a bit.
not to mention that megumi wanted to walk his dogs which was a plus, since you would be able to watch your dear son play around with them.
it was all going great until you saw an old ‘friend’ who came running at the sight of you. he was someone who has always been way too touchy and in your personal bubble.
you have tried talking to him about it, but you’re confident that he does it to somehow force you into reciprocating the intimacy.
even if you’re a married woman with a freaking kid.
he giddily clasps your hand, “y/n, ‘been a long time!”
“h-hey,” you smile awkwardly.
he laughs, “I was passing by when I saw your figure, and I couldn’t help but come and say hi.”
you nod, “that’s great, but I am busy, so maybe later?—“
“you’ve gotten even prettier!” he exclaims, “I wish you would finally take me out on a—“
“can’t you see that she is uncomfortable?” your son retorts, “also, you should step back; you shouldn’t touch someone like this without asking them.”
megumi squeezes himself between the both you and glares at the man.
the guy was about to reply to your son, but toji pushes him back with ease, pulling you beside him and hand resting on your waist almost by instinct, “kid is right,” he tilts his head a bit, “ever been taught manners or do I have to do the teaching for you?”
the guy is taken back; offended, he snaps “you can’t speak to me like that!”
“and you can’t hold my mom’s hands like that, but here we are,” your son cleverly sasses him.
on the other hand, your—shameless—husband pulls you into one scandalous kiss and smirks at the guy when he pulls back, “and you can’t hit on a married woman, by the way.”
you hear your son gag in disgust at his dad’s actions, but you’re too busy burying your face in your husband’s chest, hoping that the guy disappears before toji makes even more of a bigger scene.
you also hope that the ground would swallow you, but that’s the alternative option.
the guy clutches his fist, before walking away, spewing insults at the sky—since he is too scared to cuss out your buff husband. once the man is out of sight, toji ruffles megumi’s hair, chuckling, “good job, kid.”
your shy bean’s cheeks redden slightly as he looks away, “…thanks.”
you’re still thinking about what just happened when you slap your husband’s chest, “toji, literally why?” you grumble, patting megumi who started holding onto your leg the moment you hugged toji.
“why not,” your husband shrugs with a small smile, taking pride in your flustered form.
“dad, I want ice cream.”
“no, you just want me to let go your mom, so you can hog her for yourself,” toji grumbles, staring down at megumi.
unfaltering, megumi looks up at him ,“dad, I want ice cream.”
“god damn it, listen here you—“
“divine dogs.”
RYOMEN SUKUNA:
there is no denying that both your son and your husband care for you very much, and they both—very aggressively—compete for your attention.
I am talking he literally throws the kid across the room kind of aggressive, and your son, in turn, throws whatever he has at him.
it’s eventful, but you would be lying if you said that it wasn’t one of the reasons why you will get grey hair earlier than everyone else.
so their very aggressive nature is also shown in their protectiveness over you.
a person doesn’t need to insult or even dare flirt with you for your devil duo to make their life a living hell; your husband and son don’t tolerate someone speaking to you if it causes you to ignore both of them.
for example, this one new servant was clueless to where the broom is, and unluckily for him, he saw you sitting with your husband and son in the gardens. he humbly approached you, “excuse me, m’lady.”
you turn to look at him with a smile, “yes?”
he clears throat, a bit flustered by the attention, “I—I wanted to ask where the—“
“up your ass, you disgusting fiend,” your son sneers followed by his father’s ever-permanent scowl.
“who gave you the permission to come and speak to her so casually?” sukuna presses, and the servant quickly falls to his knees.
“m-my apologies, my lord! I did not mean to disturb you!”
sukuna crosses his arms, “well, you did, and you also disturbed your queen and prince,” his eyes narrow at the servant, “what do you have to say for yourself?”
meanwhile, you’re watching all of that, mouth agape and trying to articulate anything to save the poor guy. you finally find your voice, “sukuna, it’s okay; he didn’t mean—“
your son hugs you tightly and glares at the servant, “to think he would so brazenly speak to you like you’re old friends is terrible, mother.”
you can almost see your son’s cursed energy flaring, and you can spot the small smirk on your husband’s face as he watches his son.
before it escalates any further and you find yet another dead corpse in your palace, you pick up your son, kissing his cheek which makes him flustered and causing him to bury his face in your neck.
you look at the servant, “you’re dismissed, and you can ask the head maid about anything you need, okay?”
“y-yes, m’lady!” he, however, stays glued to the ground, “may I have the permission to lift my head?”
sukuna grunts, “sure.”
“thank you, m’lord,” the servant says, before scurrying towards the gate, having secured his freedom after his little mistake.
or at least, that’s what he thought.
your husband slices his legs off with a flick of a finger, and your son, who has inherited his father’s technique, slices the head off.
and so the body falls to the ground, and the other servants hurriedly start cleaning up the mess.
you frown at your husband, “sukuna! he apologized!”
he rolls his eyes, and pulls you by the waist, “do I look like I care? he shouldn’t have interrupted our time together.”
“aww, you’re jealous!”
“no, I am not—“
“hands off, old man!”
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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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thedreadvampy · 3 months ago
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update they messaged me to say they felt I had been very hostile to them the last 2 times they saw me (almost fair - I was very hostile to them 2/3 of the last 3 times I saw them) and "can we address this?"
so I said "no, not really" and they said "well do you know why" and I said "yes, but I don't think I can productively have that conversation with you so I'm not going to." and they haven't messaged since.
suuuucccessss????
there is a person in my life who I Do Not Like Being Around. they trigger all sorts of shit for me that makes me extremely irritable, defensive, tense, reactive, snappy, etc. I think it would be fair to say I hate them in that I see or hear about them and I'm already mentally squaring up.
(and that is an unusual experience for me. I am a dyed-in-the-wool hater of THINGS but I find it fairly difficult to maintain a lot of distaste and anger towards PEOPLE)
but the problem is.
a) I am conscious that I am not behaving rationally. I do not like the person I am around them.
and
b) I canNOT fucking get away from them. they are in basically all my social spaces, and every time I get involved in organising they're there trying to Be In Charge In A Non-Hierarchical Way. They're my best friends' best friend. They're my ex's partner. And even when I'm not anywhere near them people end up talking to me about how irritating they are. they are haunting me.
#red said#it is a mixed feeling tbf#on the one hand. no this isn't about things within their control. they trigger the shit out of me for reasons more to do with#how other people defend their behaviour than how they behave#i feel i have to constantly choose btw walking on eggshells and caving every time they stamp their feet OR everything being a huge blowup#and that. i do not think. is entirely in their control. it's other people sending that message.#now i do not think other people defend them so much out of love or agreement as out of the fact that if they're unhappy it makes#everyone else unhappy and they're one of these people who like. RADIATES their misery out.#now that is a fault of theirs. but not one that's in their direct control. some people just uncontrollably Emit an Aura of Grump.#i know this because i am one and i have yet to find a way to avoid it other than leaving.#now i do ALSO think that they're a bossy selfcentred entitled public school kid who treats their friends and loved ones very poorly#and who is intensely defensive about their own emotional needs and boundaries while flippantly trampling everyone else's#and separately that they're a really irritating theory bro who talks constantly about how they're the prevailing expert on nonhierarchy#and that's why they should be in charge of how nonhierarchical spaces happen#and that they constantly refuse to let anyone else have any degree of agency over how things are organised or managed#then sulk because THEY have to do EVERYTHING#but these are not the reasons i am perpetually angry and reactive at them.#(except the bossiness. i do not react well to being told what to do and i recognise that this is as much a me problem as a them problem)#the reason i cannot keep an even head around them is because every time they're unreasonable people wave it off as normal or sympathetic#and every time someone is unreasonable to them that person is expected to apologise because of how supposedly fragile this person is#and i am. VERY reactive to that feeling. for Several Many Reasons.#i guess the reason i cannot productively have this conversation. other than. primarily. that i don't want to.#is: this is not me reacting reasonably. this is me reacting to the idea that i have to be reasonable and accommodate their unreasonableness.#EVERY TIME. and EVERYONE has to accommodate them being unreasonable#and EVERYONE has to be entirely evenhanded if THEY act unreasonably and try and understand where they're coming from#and another thing that triggers me here is the inescapableness. fairly or not i feel like I'm not allowed to leave.#i can't avoid them and if i try to push them away they pop up to ask why. and that's not unreasonable on their part!#but it's TRIGGERING AS FUCK on mine. i HAVE anger issues and i am VERY worried about disliking people bc i do snarl unfairly.#i don't LIKE being unreasonable. especially because. unlike some people apparently. i don't think that explaining it makes it ok.#i would prefer to not be a cunt. so i need to not be in a situation where my buttons are getting pushed. bc i am then a cunt.
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bnpd · 5 months ago
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Golden Boy ! ᡣ𐭩
"so this is gojo satoru."
you first heard of gojo when you were a freshman in high school, you first saw gojo when you were a junior, you first talked to him when you were a senior, and then you disliked him. but he first loved you when he first met you.
basketball player!gojo x photography/journalist!reader DRABBLE WORD COUNT: 3K
SPOTIFY PLAYLIST : ᡣ𐭩 NAVIGATION : ꩜
NOTE: basketball gojo is rotting my brain btw! so here’s another AU of them, enjoy. not a fic, more of a really really long drabble. posting this while you guys wait for long shot part 3! okay sorry too much yap! not proof read sorry chat
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high school: 2007
you grew up with a fascination for cameras–photography as a whole–, and the idea of perfectly capturing the moment.
when you first started high school you would bring your camera and a journal everywhere. it was a small camera your parents bought to allow you to explore your life-long interest. 
you were very much kept to yourself. if you didn’t have to talk to anyone, you didn’t choose to. you liked being alone, and there’s nothing depressing about that. you only had one friend, and her name was utahime. 
you were a geek! not in a bad way, but in a way where you had a passion for books, writing, games, photography, you name it.
if anyone asked about you, no one would know how to answer. no one really knew much about you. with that in mind, you were still approachable, and kind.
if anyone engaged in conversation with you, you didn’t shy away—you politely engaged back. 
now, things stayed like that for the entirety of freshman to spring semester of sophomore year because one day your graphics and design teacher, mr. mendez, caught you taking pictures of inanimate objects, offering you a position on the yearbook team.
your high school was huge, and names weren’t frequently known, especially not yours. but those rules didn’t apply to athletes. especially the golden boy—gojo satoru. 
gojo satoru was a well-known name—gojo, itself, was a well-known name—his family came from money and they funded the entire school. you never actually met, or saw him, considering your schedules were completely different. but, in your junior year that changed. when your teacher asks you to go to a basketball game to cover the athlete section since the boy who was initially covering it got sick. 
you’re frowning to yourself the entire day just thinking about having to stay after school to watch the game.
the time comes and you’re sitting at the back of the stands, holding onto your camera, waiting for the game to start. it’s a packed game. that doesn’t surprise you. what does surprise you, is how crazy everyone is going over a mere game of basketball before it even starts. 
you almost jolt out of your seat when you feel someone tap your shoulder, and turn to see someone sweetly smiling at you. a boy. “I think mr. mendez is trying to get your attention,” he extends his finger, pointing, and you follow the direction of it. and, indeed, your teacher was trying to get your attention. 
you sweetly mutter a quick ‘thank you’, to the boy before collecting your things, and walking towards mr. mendez. 
“so, i figured you’re new to this, but when you take pictures during sports events, you’re usually pretty close to the court, standing,” he motions to the court with his hands, and you give him a confused look even though you understood exactly what he was saying, in hopes of a different alternative. unfortunately he does not give you one.
so, now you’re standing next to the court. camera, in hand, when the lights dim down just a tiny bit and cheerleaders emerge from the sides to begin their routine.
you take this as your opportunity to snap a few pictures. you capture a picture of the captain smiling, a few others of flyers mid-air, and some of the perfect routine moments.
after they finish, you find an empty seat at the very front. you think of all the things that you could’ve been doing at the moment. like reading on your porch swing, watching the sun set. 
then the coach blows the whistle and finally the game is about to begin. the faster this goes, the faster you’ll be home, snuggled up in bed with your dog keeping your feet warm. 
you stand to take pictures, and watch as the players emerge from the locker room, one after the other, jogging down to their designated seating area. but you don’t have a particular reaction, until you see another figure emerge, and you’re a bit struck at how handsome he is. gorgeous, even. 
‘so, this is gojo satoru.’
he’s smiling, and you just know he thinks he’s hot shit with the way he jogs over to the rest of his teammates. ‘we’ll see about that’ you thought to yourself. 
and see you did. 
he was incredible on the court—professional level good—.
you took a great number of pictures, ones where he’s doing some kind of handshake with another star player, geto suguru, another set of pictures of other players, some of gojo by himself, but your favorite one, by far, had to be the one after he shoots the final shot, and almost as if he sensed the camera, looked your way, and smiled. a cute boyish smile. you looked at your camera in shock and disbelief.
you felt your face heat up by a billion degrees.
it was the most perfect picture you ever captured. and you don’t even think he noticed because he runs back to his teammates, as if nothing had happened. 
you went home that night in a bit of a daze. a new crush had developed. a very tiny, atom sized crush, but a crush nonetheless. 
the next day mr. mendez asked for the pictures you took at the basketball game, yet you found yourself not uploading the picture of gojo smiling directly at the camera to the USB drive. it felt wrong. 
so you kept it to yourself. 
you still didn’t see him much after that. he was like an enigma to you. everyone knew so much of him.
senior year rolls around and you’re now the head of the yearbook team. you’re applying to colleges/unis, and you’re really shooting high for this specific ivy league university because of the amazing combined photography–journalism program they offered, praying that they give you the full-ride you applied for. 
you’re sitting in the graphic and design room one day, editing some final touches of the yearbook, when mr. mendez calls your name, “we have a yearbook interview for the time capsule and photoshoot for the basketball team today, and i need you to be there to direct both, is that okay?” 
you nod and reply with a simple, “sure”. 
in reality your heart is pounding because you know you’ll have to see gojo again, and actually talk to him. 
it’s finally after school, and you’re setting up the equipment for, not only, the photos, but the interviews as well. 
you hear the ruffling of the setup behind you while you try to position the camera for the interviews at the right angle, you let out a small frustrated groan “mahito stop fucking around and help me–”
“mahito?” the voice asks you and you feel yourself still because that voice is not mahitos’s. you get up from your position, and you almost die in your spot when you see gojo standing there with an unreadable look on his face. 
an unreadable look that studies you.
“oh, im sorry i thought-”, he cuts you off before you can finish.
“hm,” he lets out in a rude manner and you almost reel back at how condescending he looked. (canon high school gojo i fear).
 ‘this can’t be the same guy that I had a crush on last year’
but it was. 
the worst part is, the entire time you took the team’s photos, he wasn’t outwardly mean. but he had an energy to him that put you off. one that told you he thought he was better than you. his mannerisms screamed arrogance, and carelessness.
you kept to yourself for the majority of the photoshoot, muttering occasional instructions. 
the rest of the team were really nice. they’d strike up a conversation, here and there. you, of course, responded politely and engaged in conversation, returning their enthusiasm. but the entire time you felt piercing blue eyes. 
you’d catch him whispering to geto, and even though you knew they weren’t talking about you, it left you paranoid. 
for the interviews, you kept it polite. until you got to gojo. you hit the record button on the camera, asked him the question, and listened to him as he talked about how great and amazing he was. you found yourself drifting off. 
‘there’s no way this guy is that full of himself.’
he was. 
you wrap up the interviews and go home. a bit caught off guard by his behavior. it wasn't that he was mean, but why would you willingly be in the presence of someone like this? and from that point on, you disliked gojo satoru.
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college: 2013
in the end, you got accepted into the ivy league you had hoped for, got a full ride, and were accepted into the photography and journalist program. you looked completely different than how you did in college (you were grateful for this). things couldn’t get any better, but they could get worse. 
you found out you actually went to the same university as gojo. you didn’t realize it until you saw his huge basketball banner in the gymnasium one day. you’re not paranoid of bumping into him here. if you didn’t bump into him in high school, you definitely won’t here. 
but perhaps a party. 
let’s say, one of your friends invited you, and gojo definitely notices you because he finds you somehow familiar and attractive. still, he hasn’t recognized you because you’re not angled in a manner that he can see you.
so he goes to talk to you, and let’s say you don’t take it lightly. you're not rude or anything, but you reject him, and he’s shocked. 
you stare at him before walking away, leaving him standing there in bewilderment. 
he watches you leave, and it takes him a while as he’s standing there but it clicks. he can’t be upset that you just rejected him in front of people, nor can he be upset that you walked away from him. he’s just honestly elated to find you here. 
the only thought in his head is that you’re here and he finally has a chance again after realizing his attempt in high school was not it. he didn’t know you in high school, nor did he know you now, but he thought you were the most interesting person back then. and it looks to him that you still are. 
now’s his chance, and he’d be damned if he passed it up. 
so he kind of finds out where you work part-time, and goes to the campus diner around the corner (where you work). it’s a late evening, and the only customers around were the old couple who visited every friday, the frequent patrons (who were college students), were all at a party that’d been advertised all week. 
it was only you, the couple, and now gojo. 
you don’t look up when you hear the door bells jingle, only gently shouting a “welcome!”, while you’re too busy wiping down the milkshake bottle. 
gojo is a bit nervous, but he pushed forward. 
he sits on the barstool by the counter you're now wiping down, sensing a presence you look up are surprised to find gojo, “hi,” gojo starts, you narrow your eyes at him a little. 
“hello,” you reply back, “what can i get for you?” you ask him before reaching under the counter to grab a menu, placing it in front of him. he doesn’t touch the menu, nor look at it, he stares into you as he says, “i’d like to start off with the sweetest milkshake you have.” 
since that night at the diner he would often show up on fridays, sit on the same stool, and order the same thing. if he didn’t order the same thing, he’d ask you for any recommendations. whatever you told him to get, he’d get it and completely finish it. 
gradually you began to warm up to him. it blossomed into a sweet genuine friendship. after that checkpoint, he would wait for you to finish your shift, and walk you out. 
when your friendship developed into something deeper—something more—he knew he had it good. he was so smitten, anyone who saw you two could tell. 
your first date happened after he came to the diner one night. 
“what can i get for you?” you asked him with a cheeky smile, leaning over the counter with your elbows on the table. he takes it as his sign to also lean his elbows over the counter, mirroring your stance.
satoru’s head slightly tilts playfully, eyes briefly landing on your lips before landing on your eyes again. 
a pause. 
“a date.”
it took him only a single date to ask you out because he knew before the first one that you were the one. 
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now
“daddy was mean to mommy?” your son asked, an extremely worried and shocked look on his face. 
you gently laugh before settling into a smile but satoru has a big frown on his face.
satoru puts his hand on top of your son's head, “well, daddy was an idiot, i was just trying to impress your mommy,” he explains.
“daddy is a jerk!” your daughter then speaks, and satoru’s jaw drops. you’re trying to contain your laughter as satoru stands up and grabs both of your kids off the couch, throwing them over his shoulders as they squeal. your daughter lets go of the scrapbook you made, but you catch it just before it hits the ground. 
you gently place it over the coffee table as you follow your husband up the stairs to the kids rooms. 
they’re both squealing when satoru puts them both in their respective beds. 
you watch silently from the door as he kneels between both beds to whisper something to the kids and your heart leaps as you watch their eyes light up. just like their father. he kisses them each on the forehead as he tucks them into their beds. 
“mommy! we want your kiss too,” your son says. you walk over and give them both loud forehead pecks. 
you’re so incredibly happy with your little family. 
satoru stands up from his kneeling position to stand behind you, wrapping an arm around you. 
“goodnight my little angels. sleep well, you’ll need energy tomorrow for the aquarium,” he tells them sweetly. 
you turn on their night light before turning off the room light, “and don’t forget, mommy and daddy are here if you need anything,” you remind them. 
“okay mommy,” you hear your babies say. 
you shut the door and head to your room. 
satoru is on you in seconds. 
his hands move from your waist to your rear as he peppers kisses all over your face, and neck. you sigh happily into him as you wrap your arms around him. 
he gives you a squeeze, and he swallows the moan that releases out of you in a passionate, and longing kiss. 
“missed you so much,” he admits in between kisses. satoru had been away for two weeks for some out-of-state games, but he would call, text, and facetime you every chance he got. he’d call first thing in the morning as soon as he would wake up, while he was getting ready, during breaks at practice, before a game (always before a game), after a game (you watched every single game), on his way back to his hotel, right before bed, and even in his sleep he’d ask to stay on the phone. 
you’re a bit embarrassed to admit to how many times you two had phone sex during the away games that you couldn’t go to. 
before you had kids, he would take you everywhere with him, and while that is still somewhat the case. the children have school so it's a bit harder to manage to travel with him. 
“me too ‘toru,” you moaned, your tone earning a tiny whine from him.
“don’t do that," he starts "you know what calling me that does to me.”
he leans in to capture your lips again, but you’re leaning away. satoru pulls you closer in an attempt to kiss you again, but you refuse again.
you settle with a quick peck on the lips.
“we need to go to bed too because we have to be up earlier.” you remind him, and he’s smiling at you, “i know what’ll put you to sleep.”
you playfully push him off, “that's what you said right before i got pregnant with our second child,” you joke. 
he’s trailing after you like a puppy into the restroom as you ready yourself for bed, “maybe i want a third child,” he challenges and you look at him through the reflection in the mirror. 
you take in the serious look on his face, and you stand straighter at his admission. 
“'toru–” you start before he cuts in, “i’m retiring,” he starts, “i want to focus on our family. basketball is great, but it’s not my life. you are. after we win finals, im retiring.” 
you turn to him completely, and pull him into a strong hug. “I love you,” you gently admit. “I love you so much more, you have no idea,” he tells you, wrapping you in his arms. he engulfed you in his safety.
you share a moment of silence, before satoru ruins the moment. 
“I’m telling the kids you stalked me and secretly took pictures of me,” you pinch him. 
“Ow!”
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BONUS ୭ ˚
your parents had convinced you to try out for the cheerleading team in high school. and you did. 
it was on a sunny afternoon, every school sports team imaginable was outside in the field. even the basketball team. they were doing their laps around the track field, which circled the current patch of grass that was hosting the cheerleader tryouts. 
“alright everyone, let's get ready for toe touches,” the captain announced enthusiastically. you’re a little distracted when you briefly make eye contact with a certain white-haired boy from across the field then you remember where you are and what was just said. you felt a little out of place, “i’m sorry,” you started, “what are toe tou–”
“ready? okay!” she shouted. 
you stand dumbfounded in the middle. however, you soon find out what a toe touch is as the girl beside you launches her foot into your face, knocking your head back from the force and collision. the impact is unexpected and the girls gasp. 
you’re too busy on the ground to realize a certain boy also created his own commotion on the track field when he collided with his best friend, sending them both to the ground because of his momentary distraction. 
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feel more than welcome to submit a request <3 ᥫ᭡ join my tag list :
TAGLIST : @luvwithau : @sugacor3 : @bloopsstuff : @fushitoru : @serenityfauna : @luna-v-roiya : @rjswrld : @fartm : @manyno : @altyx : @deluluforcarlos55 : @fangirlingoverfanfic : @gojostit : @jaelahh : @nvmlolo : @lavender-hvze : @um-no-ok : @jotarohat : @plutosgold
gojo and reader loser agenda
©2024 bnpd. All rights reserved to the copyrights owner. Do not share, plagiarize, or translate. I WILL FIND YOU.
943 notes · View notes
exhaslo · 6 months ago
Note
I KNOW IM LATE FOR EASTER BUT WHAT IF Y/N DRESSED AS A LITTLE BUNNY W/ THOSE BUNNY SUITS TEASING MIGUEL WHILE HE'S WORKING THEN CATCHING Y/N OFF BY FUCKING HER SENSELESS?? (You should include "Want a carrot" and just include Miguel simply making y/n give him a BJ >_<) ITS ONLY IF U WANT TO BTW YOU DONT NEED TO IF YOU DONT WANT TOO :(
AND I'M TOTALLY LATE IN RESPONDING LOLOLOLOLOLOL
Warning: MINORS DNI, SMUT, oral (m-receiving), role play, teasing, dirty talk, rough sex, breeding kink
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Alright, the Spider-Society should be pretty quiet today, so no one should notice me sneak in. You'll take care of the cameras, right Lyla?"
There you were, standing nervously in front of a mirror while speaking to the AI. Today was Easter and you had wanted to surprise Miguel while he was working. Give him a little stress free day while having some fun.
"Yep, just say the word when you're there and I shall get those doors open for you. Not a single soul will know you're there!" Lyla said with a chirp.
That gave you some relief. You were Miguel's girlfriend for two years now. You knew about his secret life and happily supported him any way you could. And right now, Miguel needed a break! He had been hold up in either Alchemax or the Spider Society for about three days now.
What better than to give him a little treat on Easter?
You took deep breathes as you fixed your tight bunny suit. The tail so cute and fluffy and the ears were being held in your coat pocket. It was difficult to make your way to Miguel's secret second life without anyone questioning your trench coat.
Once Lyla gave you the all clear, you rushed into the building. Normally, the Spider Society was impossible to enter for normal people. Miguel didn't want anyone accidently stumbling in. Which was why you had to rely on Lyla.
Chuckling nervously as you followed Lyla's directions, you were starting to feel the heat rise to your face.
This idea sounded so good in your head.
Placing the bunny ears on, you couldn't help but admire the structure of the building. Everything was so different and unique. Made for a Spider. Resisting a chuckle, you hurried to Miguel's office. The place really was empty.
"Alright, best of luck," Lyla said with a grin before disappearing.
You took a deep breathe before entering that dark lair. Dropping your trench coat, you proudly showed off your sexy bunny suit. A nervous smile against your lips as you saw Miguel on his platform, grunting and complaining about why it was lowering.
"Aye! Lyla!" Miguel hissed. You just smiled,
"Sounds like someone needs help from a little bunny~" You cooed. Miguel jolted slightly before turning to face you,
"(Y/N)? What are-What are you wearing?!"
"Happy Easter, Miggy. Care to feed this bunny a carrot for the long trip?" You asked, your hands stroking down his chest.
Miguel scoffed softly, capturing your lips in a kiss. He licked your lower lip, grunting softly as you started to stroke his dick through his suit.
"Amor (love), you could have gotten caught,"
"I had help,"
You got on your knees, kissing and licking Miguel's crotch. Your glossy eyes glancing up at him, waiting for him to cave and get rid of his suit. With another grunt, you got your wish and began to swirl your tongue against the length of his shaft.
Miguel groaned and grunted to every lick and stroke you gave him. Happy to see this reaction, you placed your lips against his tip and began to suck. His hands resting against your head, guiding you against his harden cock.
"What a bad bunny," Miguel hummed, "Sneaking into this place just for a quick fuck?"
"MhO mphm a (Who said anything about quick?)" You said to say.
"Shit,"
Miguel gripped your hair, fastening your pace. He moaned and whined against his cock, causing Miguel to lean forward. You knew that the vibrations of you talking against his dick sent shivers down his spine.
Which was why you liked to do it.
With another whine, you felt his dick hit the back of your throat. Your rolled your eyes back as heat pooled down to your cunt. Miguel grunted as he thrusted once more into the back of your mouth, cumming. With a hard swallow, you pulled away, panting softly,
"Someone...needed that..." You said with a soft chuckle.
"Says the one seducing me," Miguel lifted you up with ease, kissing you firmly, "Does my little bunny want this carrot anywhere else?"
Before you could say anything, Miguel's fingers were already over your soaked sex. You shuddered and whined as his fingers easily made a bigger mess of your suit that it already was. With a smirk, Miguel used his talon to rip the cloth over your pussy.
"M-Miguel! I spent a lot on this suit!" You pouted. Miguel silenced you with another kiss,
"Then I'll buy another. Can't keep my horny bunny waiting too long."
"Mphm~!"
You flung your head back as Miguel laid you against his desk, sliding his cock inside your folds. With ease, Miguel made himself at home with his dick kissing your cervix. Your gummy walls tightening around him so perfectly.
"Does my little horny bunny enjoy this?" Miguel pressed his hips against yours, causing you to moan and squirm, "You know what they say about that, right?"
You shuddered in response, holding onto Miguel as he slowly thrusted inside of you. Your whines not bothering him as he continued to torment you. His slow pace making you wetter as you tried to move your own hips to fasten the pace.
"Guess my bunny really wants a baby,"
"Mhm~ Ah~ M-Migueeeeeeel~" You whimpered.
Miguel leaned down to kiss you once more before he finally picked up his pace. His hands against your hips as his thrusts began rapid and rough. Your body shivering as you felt jolts run up your spine. Your cunt convulsing against Miguel's cock as you cam around him.
"Feel that? My bunny can't wait to be filled by me," Miguel whispered in your ear.
Your moans were getting louder as Miguel abused your cunt. Your head spinning as you focused on his dick. Miguel chuckled as he kissed you before slapping himself once more, giving you the first of many loads of his cum.
"Is this a tail I feel?" Miguel chuckled as he turned you on your stomach. His eyes sparkling at the sight, "How tempting. How long has my horny bunny been planning this?"
"Hn~!" You gripped onto the edge of his desk as Miguel entered your filled pussy again, "J-Just...ah~ ah~"
"Can't hear you," Miguel started his rough pace again, enjoying the sloppy sounds of your juices against his cock, "Want my babies that bad, little bunny?"
"Yesh~ Yesh~" You cried out, feeling your core burning once more.
"Then can my bunny keep up with me?"
You gasped as Miguel pinched your clit, causing you to come undone by him. Your body trembling in pleasure as his cock kept thrusting inside of you. Miguel lifted your ass up slightly, hitting you deeper than before.
"Good girl,"
---------
"Hm? Is my horny bunny finally waking up?" Miguel asked with a soft chuckle.
You groaned softly, feeling sore and groggy. Fluttering your eyes open, you noticed that you were back at Miguel's home. With a deep inhale, you nuzzled your head against his chest, wanting to sleep for a bit longer.
"Awe, can't have that. It's still Easter, and as far as I know...my cute little dirty bunny hasn't had her fill yet."
"Miggy...." You whined, looking into his lustful eyes, "You need to destress more often."
"I am," Miguel chuckled as he pinned you against the bed, "Now, let's keep making that baby."
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HOPE YOU ENOJYED!!!!
Hopefully the next holiday request I update in time, hahaaaaa
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louloulemons-posts · 3 months ago
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Saw that alphabet headcanons are starting to become popular and I was wondering if you could do both versions of the alphabet too ( SFW and nsfw alphabet head canons) for Logan?
SFW Alphabet
Wolverine x Reader
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authors note : this is such a cute idea! i love reading these so much - i probably won’t do a NSFW one because i don’t write much content like that 🫶🏻
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
A = Affection
(how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?)
heres the thing, in public he’s barely affectionate at all, it’d be a hand on your waist or rubbing his fingers on your shoulder. in private he’s the opposite, he is all over you like a leech, cuddles, kisses. at one point you had to stop him holding your hand when you went to pee.
B = Best Friend
(what would they be like as a best friend? how did the friendship start?)
just like he is with everyone, logan is quite standoffish with you when you first meet. you met through charles at the mansion, but after a week or so, and many smiled, logan warmed to you. you became really close really quick, talking about anything and everything.
C = Cuddles
(do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?)
logan is an cuddle bug, he loves a hug. as soon as you get, or him, get back from a mission he’d be on you. wrapping his arms around you and holding you close, your own legs wrapped around his waist.
D = Domestic
(do they want to settle down? how are they at cooking and cleaning?)
as soon as you and logan get together, he knows he wants to be with you for the rest of your lives. he wants a simple life, no more fighting, a little home away from everything. he’d be better at cleaning than cooking, you’d cook and he’d wash up and dry.
E = Ending
(if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
logan would never want this, it would be worse comes to worse. you were in danger. he’d hate it, say it was to protect you, which would break your hate, and in turn you’d hate him in a way. but he’d always come back - logan always did.
F = Fiance(e)
(how would they feel about commitment? how quickly do they want to get married?)
he’d probably wait a year or two, promising to love you forever. you’d have a small private wedding a few months later, with your closest friends and wade would fight to be bestman.
G = Gentle
(how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
he’d learn to be more gentle with you, forever gentle with you, never wanting to cause any harm. soft touches and words are key for logan.
H = Hugs
(do they like hugs? how often? what are their hugs like?)
as said above, big bear hugs, holding you close. it’d be secure, you’d feel so safe when he hugs you. rests his head on top of yours and presses his lips on your hair constantly.
I = I love you
(how fast do they say the L-word?)
either a couple months into the relationship, or as he’s first asking you out - no in between.
J = Jealousy
(how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?)
ha. so yeah he is kinda jealous, he’s just scared you’ll find someone better than him (logan that’s not possible btw babe), he’d become more touchy or death glare anyone who looked in your direction - definitely would end up in you comforting, kissing all over his face and telling him how much you love him.
K = Kisses
(what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they liked to be kissed?)
kisses with logan are always full of love and passion, his favourite place to kiss you is your lips of course, but does place his head in your neck and kiss your pulse point on a regular. he’s a sucker for forehead kisses for sureeee.
L = Little ones
(how are they around children?)
he’s scared of them.
when he meets laura that doesn’t really change, but my god he’s a good dad and you take her in as your daughter - he absolutely adores the both of you and seeing you together melts his heart - but not when you join forces and gang up on him.
M = Morning
(how are mornings spent with them?)
slow and soft. waking up slowly with kisses all over your face, shoulders and back. gentle whisperers to bring you from your slumber and hushed voices when you wake up.
N = Night
(how are nights spent with them?)
soft giggles, hushing you to sleep, but obnoxiously loud laughter if you’re quiet for too long. your head rested on logan’s chest, feeling it shakes as he tries to hold in a giggle. but soon wrapped around one another, fast asleep.
O = Open
(when would they start revealing personal things? do they say it all or tell you slowly?)
logan doesn’t know why but he feels so comfortable about you, he speaks about his childhood, his brother, the wars, the adamantium … everything. he tells you everything, you hold his closely and quietly as he does so, running your fingers through his hair, just letting him talk.
P = Patience
(how easily angered are they?)
… this is logan we’re talking about. he doesn’t get angry at you, annoyed yes, if you hurt yourself doing something silly. his claws slip out with ease when he sees someone making you upset or uncomfortable, not even thinking before acting.
Q = Quizzes
(how much do they remember about you? do they remember every detail or forget everything?)
he would not forget a single thing about you, even silly small things. you stopped believing in the tooth fairy at 7? he knows it. your favourite smell is vanilla? logan’s got a vanilla candle. you love green? guess what? he’s got you a green blanket.
R = Remember
(what’s their favourite moment in your relationship?)
your first kiss for sure, he could never forget it, he was being broody and rambling about issues you may face in the future. you just grabbed him by his worn flannel and kissed him straight on the mouth - he instantly shut up.
S = Security
(how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they want to be protected?)
so fucking protective, he’d protect you with his life. you walk on the inside of the path away from the cars. an overly bark-y dog approaches, you’re behind him. you feel uncomfortable, claws are drawn.
logan needs mental protection more than anything, whatever he tells you in confidence, stays with you, it stays quiet, never used as an insult, it’s precious and makes him him.
T = Try
(how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
as said above he never forgets a thing about you, so if you ever make a passing comment, he will remember it. gifts are forever heartfelt and unique. anniversaries are quiet and just for you, same with dates, never one the same. and every day tasks, logan will sit you down and do everything if you asked.
U = Ugly
(what are some of their bad habits?)
takes an ungodly amount of time doing his hair. that’s it.
V = Vanity
(how concerned are they about their looks?)
okay okay, his outfits are always great. he looks good all the fucking time, but he’d look great in a bin bag. i think he throws on whatever … but as i said before … hair.
W = Whole
(would they feel incomplete without you?)
oh 100% a second without you is too much. he wouldn’t know what to do with himself, he’d feel lopsided if he was on a solo mission.
X = Xtra
(a random head cannon)
scared of frogs. you’ve chased him around the mansion with one.
Y = Yuck
(what are some things they don’t like, in a partner, or just in general?)
someone who doesn’t listen, like at all, just someone who is totally self obsessed. he couldn’t deal with that.
Z = Zzz
(what’s a sleeping habit of theirs?)
BLANKET HOG
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
this was so much fun to do, thank you for the request i loveeddd it.
leave any requests, they’re slowly coming i promise 🫶🏻
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its-avalon-08 · 3 months ago
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can i request a logan x reader: reader sees his ex at the paddock one day and gets insecure thinking he invited her and leaves but it turns out the ex is now dating a mechanic from another team or something like that…
just a silly idea i had and it’s totally ok if u don’t feel 100% comfortable doing it! and btw i love your writing sm
my ride or die (ls2)
✦ pairing - logan sargeant x female!reader
✦ genre - comfort, tears, angst
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The paddock buzzed with the usual pre-race excitement as Y/N made her way toward Logan's garage. She spotted Logan talking with his team, a confident smile on his face. Just as she was about to call out to him, her eyes landed on a familiar figure – Emily, Logan's ex, standing a few feet away, chatting and laughing with some team members.
Y/N's heart skipped a beat. "Why is she here?" she muttered under her breath, feeling a surge of confusion and anxiety. She approached Logan, her voice slightly shaky. "Logan, look who's here," she said, pointing discreetly toward Emily.
Logan, engrossed in a conversation with his engineer, glanced in the direction she pointed and, without really paying attention, smiled and nodded. "Yeah, great," he said absentmindedly, turning back to his discussion.
Y/N's stomach dropped. His casual reaction felt like a confirmation. She took a step back, her mind racing with thoughts. "He invited her," she whispered to herself, feeling a mix of anger, hurt, and betrayal. She turned on her heel and started walking quickly toward the exit, her emotions swirling.
Logan finished his conversation and turned to look for Y/N, but she was already gone. His heart rate quickened as he realized something was wrong. He began to search the paddock, asking people if they had seen her.
"Hey, have you seen Y/N?" Logan asked one of the engineers.
"No, man, not for a while," the engineer replied, shaking his head.
Logan's worry deepened. He pulled out his phone and tried calling her, but it went straight to voicemail. He ran towards the parking area, hoping to catch her before she drove off.
Y/N stormed out of the paddock, muttering to herself as she headed toward her car. "Of course she'd show up… flaunting herself around… why did he have to invite her?" She tried to keep her tears at bay, but her eyes were already glossy with emotion.
As she reached for her car door, she felt a hand grab her wrist. She turned around to see Logan, his face etched with concern. "Y/N, what's going on? Why are you leaving?"
Y/N pulled her hand away, her voice trembling with anger and sadness. "Logan, did you invite her? Did you invite Emily here?"
Logan's eyes widened in shock. "What? No, I didn't invite her. Why would you think that?"
Tears finally spilled over as Y/N looked at him, her voice breaking. "Because she's here, Logan! And she's a model, she's perfect, and she always flirted with you even after you two broke up. How am I supposed to feel?"
Logan stepped closer, reaching out to hold her shoulders gently. "Y/N, listen to me. Emily is not here for me. She's here because she's dating a mechanic from Haas. I swear, I didn't even know she was coming."
Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with doubt and insecurity. "But she's so… perfect. How can I compete with that? She's glamorous and confident, and I'm just… me."
Logan's expression softened, and he pulled her into a tight embrace. "Y/N, you don't have to compete with anyone. You are more than enough for me. I love you for who you are, not because of what you look like or what you do."
She buried her face in his chest, her tears soaking his shirt. "It's just hard, Logan. She made me feel so small, like I wasn't good enough for you."
Logan held her even tighter, his voice gentle but firm. "You are more than good enough, Y/N. Emily is in the past. She doesn't matter to me. You do. I love you, and I want to be with you. Not her, not anyone else. You."
Y/N sniffled, lifting her head to look into his eyes. "You really mean that?"
Logan nodded, his eyes filled with sincerity. "I really mean that. You are the one I want to be with. Forever."
She let out a shaky breath, a small smile forming on her lips. "I'm sorry I doubted you. It's just… seeing her brought back all those old insecurities."
"I understand baby," Logan said softly. "But I promise you, you have nothing to worry about. You're the only one for me."
Y/N nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. "Thank you, Logan. I love you."
"I love you too," he replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Now, let's go back and enjoy the rest of the weekend together, okay?"
"Alrighty american boy, lead the way." she agreed, feeling the warmth of his love and reassurance.
time skip
Logan had an incredible qualifying session, securing a spot on the front row. The team was ecstatic, and he was feeling on top of the world as he made his way back to the garage. As he walked in, he saw Y/N waiting for him, a mixture of pride and guilt written all over her face.
"Logan!" Y/N called out, running towards him. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, burying her face in his chest. "You did amazing!"
Logan hugged her back, smiling. "Thanks, Y/N. I'm really happy with how it went."
Y/N pulled back slightly, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. "Logan, I need to apologize again. I feel so ridiculously guilty about earlier. I shouldn't have doubted you. I'm so sorry."
Logan's expression softened as he cupped her face in his hands. "Y/N, it's okay. You don't have to keep apologizing. I understand why you felt the way you did."
"But I overreacted," Y/N insisted, her voice trembling. "I should have trusted you. I let my insecurities get the best of me, and I hurt you in the process. I'm really, really sorry."
Logan shook his head, feeling a pang of sadness for how upset she was. "Hey, don't do this to yourself. I love you, and I understand why you felt insecure. It was a tough situation, but we worked through it together. That's what matters."
Y/N sniffled, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I just hate that I made you worry and feel bad before such an important session. You deserve to be happy and focused, not dealing with my doubts."
Logan pulled her closer, resting his forehead against hers. "Y/N, your feelings are important to me. We dealt with it, and I still had a great qualifying. Please, don't beat yourself up over this. We're stronger together."
Y/N nodded, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "Thank you for being so understanding. I promise I'll work on my insecurities. I don't want to make you feel like this again."
Logan kissed her gently, wiping away her tears with his thumbs. "We all have insecurities, Y/N. What's important is that we talk about them and support each other. I love you, and nothing's going to change that."
"I love you too, Logan," Y/N whispered, finally allowing herself to smile. "And I'm so proud of you. You're going to do great tomorrow."
Logan grinned, feeling a wave of warmth and gratitude. "With you by my side, I know I will. Now, let's go celebrate this qualifying session and enjoy the rest of the day together, okay?"
"Okay," Y/N agreed, feeling a sense of relief and happiness. "Let's do that."
As the evening settled in and the celebration for his successful qualifying session began to wind down, Logan found himself quietly observing Y/N. She was laughing with some of the team members, her eyes sparkling with genuine happiness. Her smile was radiant, and the way she effortlessly brought joy to those around her made Logan's heart swell with love.
He took a moment to step back, leaning against the wall, and simply watched her. Every gesture, every laugh, every glance – it all reminded him of how lucky he was to have her in his life. She was his rock, his support, the person who believed in him even when he had doubts about himself. Her vulnerability, her strength, her love – it all made him fall deeper in love with her every day.
Logan felt a profound sense of gratitude wash over him. Despite the challenges, despite the moments of insecurity and doubt, they had come out stronger. He realized that her presence in his life was a blessing he never wanted to take for granted. She was more than just his girlfriend; she was his partner, his confidante, his everything.
In that quiet moment, Logan made a silent promise to himself – to always cherish her, to always support her, and to always remind her just how much she meant to him. As he watched Y/N continue to light up the room with her presence, Logan knew that he had found something truly special. And he was determined to hold onto it with all his heart.
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appleblueberry-pie · 10 months ago
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yandere miles 42 when a guys asks you out to prom yk like where they make a whole scene a cardboard box cut into a square and it has will you go out to prom with me 😭😭 and says the most cheasy thing making you cringe and a large group of ppl are surrounding you two but we reject them and they get mad and you tell miles all abt it ^^ i love your posts btw🙏🏽
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[Come back home to me.]
You knew something funny was gonna happen when people were smiling your way, giggling and whispering about you. And the further you trekked down the hallway, the more crowded it was. You tried to keep your eyes to yourself as you slithered through the crowd. Clutching your backpack straps harder. Phones were out and on you, you felt a little nervous. This day has been hard enough for you. Long, grueling hours in class, people chatting up a storm in your ears, a mind-blowing headache that you've had all damn day that you could only take medication for just 30 minutes ago. You were tired.
"Hey, Y/n!" You tense up before sighing, shoulders dropping. How much happier would you be if you just ignored the call of your name and dealt with the backlash tomorrow, instead? You recognized the voice, and knew that if you ignored him...you'd be dealing with the consequences forever. You decided to turn around.
There goes Travis. His dark brown complexion and well-maintained dreads make him stand out. They were pulled back into a low pony, probably because he knew these videos would be the talk of the school for a while. He always loved the spotlight. A junior, like you, giving you that smile that all of the girls bothered him to give to them. It's directed right at you while he holds a beautifully made sign. It's humongous. And pink. And purple. Colors that you don't remember telling him were your favorite. Your head begins to hurt again when you notice your name drawn in amazing detail and care, followed by something among the lines of "prom" and "love of my life."
Somehow in the time span that you scanned your eyes over the sign that determined your possibly inevitable doom, a perfect circle was formed by the students who stood and watched you two like hawks. The flash on phones made you calculate that these videos wouldn't leave the internet for at least a month. Great. A month of reminders. A month of prodding and picking at your sanity from a place you have to go to damn near every day for an education. And a month of replays of a rejection.
You're not telling him yes.
Travis's homeboys hoot and holler to encourage him. "Y/n..." He starts, taking a step closer to you. A fake smile wobbles onto your lips and you stare up at him. "......yes...?" Everyone suddenly goes silent as you two begin to converse.
The way he stares at you makes you feel like....what he's looking for in you isn't something you'd give up for any high school boy anytime. Because what he wants, you know it isn't genuine love. So it makes you nervous the way he seems to tower over you during his, so called, "profession of love".
"Your beauty and smarts is something I've always wanted in a girl." His voice is loud and clear. It echoes throughout the hallway, like he wants everyone to hear. You don't think the halls have ever been so quiet. "Everyday, I'd pass you in the hallways while you carry your textbooks and wonder what it'd be like talking to you every morning before class. What it would be like to love you the way you deserve to be loved." His vague explanation of his love towards you had you wondering if anyone else also realized how fake this whole thing was.
His dark brown eyes never leave your face and he's right in front of you now. "So, I made this sign...to show you how much I love you. And how much I want to be with you. So, if it isn't so much to ask," Travis slowly puts the sign aside and drops to one knee, taking one of your hands into his, holding it carefully. "would you please go to prom with me? And let me be your man?"
The longer he watched the live feed, the harder it was to not burn his work space to the ground. The longer he listened, the harder he tweaked his claw he was attempting to fix. He was trying. He was trying so hard to stay calm. Because it's not like you'd say yes. But at the same time, no matter how often he kills or beats niggas up, "They just keep fucking touching you, puto cabr��n!" He swipes the table, his tools and broken claw flying to the ground. Miles takes deep breaths, holding his head in his hands.
He stands up, turning off his phone and begins pacing. He didn't wanna see the rest of that. Why does he have to keep doing this? Don't they understand your his? Just his??? Yes, you're the shining light that keeps Brooklyn alive, yes, yes, this isn't news. But he's always with you. So why do they keep bothering you?
It doesn't matter because he's gonna keep killing them until they get the message. The more roaches he brings into the light, the better. He suddenly rushes to his phone and quickly dials your number, chest heaving as he tries to calm himself.
Your phone silently vibrates in your back pocket and your heart drops. It had to be Miles. Because he wasn't at school today and this definitely wouldn't have happened if he was here. You're so fucked, you think to yourself as everyone cheers at Travis's speech. And it goes silent again as they wait for your answer.
Suddenly, Travis is so hard to look at. You didn't want to be stared at like that when he's gonna die in the next few hours. Miles was gonna get him and it'd be your fault. He always said it wasn't and would caress your face as reassurance, but there's no excuse when he only kills these guys at school because they talk to you. And not for any other reason. You always have to be where the line is drawn.
"No, I can't go to prom with you." You say, chest lifting of the thousand pound weight that held it down. Travis didn't even look sad, he still had that adoring look in his eyes. And you then knew that he was faking all of this. "Why not? Is it because of Miles?" He stands, still holding your hand and shakes his head. "If he's bothering you, I could....get rid of him if you want. Cause that nigga, he a fucking weirdo. And he clearly, like, has you hostage or something, cause he ain't nothing special. Any one of us is better than him." He scoffs at the mention of him and his friends laugh with him.
You shake your head and take your hand away. "No, sorry, Travis. I just....don't wanna go." He rolls his eyes and smiles at you, picking up his sign. "Whatever. That's aight." He tosses it in the nearest trash can. You wonder if he even made that himself with the way he tossed it with zero regards. He turns back to you one last time and nods. "I'll holler. Let me know when you get rid of yo little guard dog. He be stinking the halls anyway."
And everyone dispersed.
You let out the breath you didn't know you were holding. You think this city is going to be the death of you with how many times you've gotten unwanted attention based on your looks. You tense up once more when you remember that Miles was calling you. The sudden silence after multiple calls was never a good thing. You yanked your phone out of your pocket and saw the 20-something missed calls and whispered to yourself in fear.
Immediately, you began your journey to his place.
His room was dark and cold. Only the light from outside his window illuminated it. You softly dropped your backpack into the usual corner and backed up to sit on his bed, but your back softly collided with a warm wall that also wrapped it's arms around your torso. You flinched as Miles exhaled in your ear, his head resting on your shoulder. "Miles, what the hell...."
He squeezes you a little and backs you both up, until he brings you to sit on his lap on his bed. He shifts you, so that you're facing him, his hand caressing your face and rubbing your back. "Hermosa como siempre, mami. How was your day?"(Beautiful as always, mami.) He whispers it to you, to calm you down. You're visibly nervous at his actions, expecting him to explode any minute.
"Um...it was alright. I did my project in 3rd period and got a coffee drink with my lunch. And..... I got asked to prom." You stare down at him, watching him scan you up and down, and let him 'check' your pockets before resting his hands on your waist. "Yeah? Who asked?" He already knew the answer, but wanted to hear it from you.
You severely struggled to tell him it was Travis. You were tired of him killing people. You were tired of the apologies from men who were beaten half to death because of you. You scrunched your eyebrows as your throat began to close.
"Hm?" He asked. You hated how calm he was about this. How he held you so dearly as you fidgeted with your uniform skirt. Tears built up in your eyes and you shook your head. Miles pulled you closer, immediately wiping your eyes. "No, no, por favor no llores, nena. No estés triste. I just want you to tell me who did it, that's all."(No, no, please don't cry, baby. Don't be sad.) You break into full out sobbing and wipe at your eyes.
"I don't- don't want to because you're gonna kill him!" You stutter and manage to spit out your words, voice wobbly. Miles shushes you and rocks you back and forth, resting your head on his chest. His voice rumbles in your ears when he speaks. "You don't have to worry about a thing when I'm here with you, N/n. All I want is for you to drop his name, and everything else doesn't matter."
He kisses your forehead sweetly, letting his lips linger for a few seconds. "Okay?" You nod and try to take deep breaths. You couldn't win against him. He probably already knew who proposed to you, and Travis's fate still wouldn't be unavoidable. "Travis." You felt immense guilt and despair the moment you dropped his name.
"Travis...." Miles repeats. Just putting his name in the air made him pissed all over again. He stays silent for a few seconds before tilting his head to the side. "I just realized why that name is so familiar," He starts. "That's that nigga who robbed and threatened you last year, ain't it?" Miles scoffs and turns to look at you. "Is that why you didn't leave when he brought up that sign? Cause of what he did to you?"
You scrunch your eyebrows at his words and sit up. "How do you know about that?" You didn't meet Miles until a month after you were robbed by Travis in your sophomore year. So, him knowing about that was weird, especially since you never brought it up to him before. Miles ignores your question and continues. "I should've known some shit was off." Miles places you on the bed and gets up, grabbing some clothes to change into.
You rush to stand in front of him to stop him. "Miles, wait! Please- please don't do this. He didn't even do anything to me. All he did is ask me out. I said no. What's wrong with that??"
"What's wrong with that is that nigga is gonna keep fucking getting at you until he can get into your pants, baby. I'm not stupid. These niggas know what they doin' riling you up and sending you back home to me crying and shit. Ain't you tired??" Miles begins to size you up, backing you towards his bedroom door, clothes clutched in his hand as he stares down at you.
"I am fucking tired. And I'm also tired of you ruining my life by making more rumors for niggas to spread about me. Nobody wants to be near me because of you, Miles!" You jab your finger into his chest and he grabs your hand. "You don't need nobody else." You hear his breathing speed up and realized you should've kept your mouth shut.
It's too damn silent for your liking. All you can hear is him and your heartbeat in your ears. "When the fuck have you ever needed anyone else besides me?.....I take care of you. I feed you, I do your fucking hair every morning, I walk you to and from school, I protect you. Es que no es suficiente?(Is that not enough?)" You don't respond and stare up into brown eyes that glare down at you. "How 'bout I show you how good you got it?" You try to pull your hand back, but his iron grip isn't letting up. "What.....? Miles, let me go."
"What's wrong, mi corazón? Don't wanna see?" Miles almost jokingly asks about your sudden concern. He steps into your space once more and firmly grabs your face. "Look at me when I tell you this,"
He shakes his head. "You don't know how to protect yourself. I'm the only one who knows how to keep you safe in these fucked up streets. When was the last time you felt protected before you met me? Huh? Cause I know you haven't. I'm meant to be here with you! I'm protecting you from the horrible fucking things that are happening out there that could've been happening to you, baby. You heard?"
You struggle to remove his hands from your face and he makes no move to stop the distress he's putting you in. "Okay, okay, Miles. Just...please stop."
Miles places a kiss onto your forehead before holding you in his arms. You sigh relief at the release of pressure and let him hold you. "Volveré pronto, okay? And then we can do whatever you want."(I'll be back soon) You allow yourself to relax and your eyes flutter shut. Sometimes you wonder how much it'll take for him to stop taking his obsession out on Brooklyn.
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orchidniins · 9 months ago
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Helloooo i LOVE the Serendipitous beginnings😍😍😍😍 the tension is giving✨️
Btw can i have a reaction for mr.television for being possessive towards his girl, bcuz ms gurl is so pretty and many people want her💅.
Question: Do u also write for chaos crew or sidemen??
Possessive | Arthur Frederick
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A/N: Thanks for the request! And I'm so glad that you loved my first ArthurTV fic! I'm absolutely in love with this idea and I hope this is what you had in mind. As for your question Anon, I currently only write for Choos crew (Mainly ArthurTV, Arthur Hill and George Clarke) and ChrisMD. Hope you enjoy!! Pairings: ArthurTV x GN!Reader Warnings: Fluff Word Count: 1k+
Masterlist
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Arthur wasn't typically the possessive or jealous type.
Throughout your relationship, he trusted you completely, especially after you had told him about you past experiences with possessive boyfriends. He had full faith in you, never feeling the need to control or restrict your interactions, even when you had male friends who would often come over to your place to hang out.
You were currently getting ready for a mini reunion with some old classmates from school. You had spent your time getting ready quite nicely this evening. The venue they had picked to meet up at was slightly fancy, so you wanted to dress up to suit the occasion. You opted for a cute outfit that complimented your figure and complexion perfectly, and you styled your hair to perfection.
As you finished getting ready, Arthur couldn't help but admire your beauty. "You look absolutely beautiful," he remarked, his hands gently resting on your waist. You smiled in response, a hint of appreciation in your eyes as you thanked him. Arthur leaned in and planted a quick peck on your cheek.
He couldn't shake the possessive urge to keep you all to himself. Despite your initial hesitance, if it weren't for him convincing you to attend, he would have gladly kept you at home, wrapped up in his arms. He had assured you he would accompany you, especially since many people would be bringing their partners.
Arthur remembered you talking about feeling unpopular in school and simply coasting through without much attention from guys or anyone really. He was shocked, he thought you were absolutely beautiful and would often voice his disbelief, but you would just shoot it down.
Once the two of you reached the venue, Arthur initially let you go off with your friends, especially when one of them pulled you away to meet the others. He decided to hang back at the bar, allowing you to have your moment.
As you mingled with a group of classmates, compliments about your stunning appearance and your transformation since school filled the air. However, despite not typically being the possessive type, Arthur couldn't shake off the pang of jealousy as your male classmates openly flirted with you, despite your polite rejections and mention of your relationship status.
Arthur, currently standing with a few of your friends that he had met previously, tried his best to resist the urge to draw closer to you. He did not want to suffocate you with his presence despite the overwhelming desire to do so. With each flirty remark directed at you, his jealousy simmered beneath the surface, yet he maintained his composure, engaging in conversation while ensuring you remained in his line of sight.
Almost as if reading Arthur’s mind, you leave the group and make your way back to him, momentarily easing his tension. However, his relief is short-lived as he watches someone intercept you on your way, attempting to chat you up as well.
Arthur's jaw tenses as he observes from where he’s stood, and a flicker of possessiveness flashes across his eyes. He turns to your friends, his tone edged with a hint of annoyance, "Who's the guy?"
As Arthur watches your body stiffen, his gaze never leaving your form, he senses your discomfort.
"Oh, him," your friend begins, catching the shift in Arthur's calm demeanor. "I didn’t know he was coming. Y/N had a bit of a crush on him in school, but he was kind of a dick to them. Like he was one of those stuck-up pricks, thought he was too good for everyone, you know?"
Feeling a surge of possessiveness, Arthur's grip tightens around his glass as he excuses himself from the conversation. He walks up to where you are standing, his demeanor protective and possessive. Wrapping his arms securely around your waist, he draws you closer, the warmth of his embrace enveloping you. Pressing a tender kiss to the side of your temple, he feels your body relax against his and your tension melts away in his embrace.
His voice, low and commanding, cuts through the air, "Hi Love, who’s this?"
Standing slightly taller than the other guy, Arthur squares his shoulders, introducing himself, "I'm their boyfriend."
The man hesitated, clearly intimidated by Arthur's imposing presence, before hastily retreating with a muttered excuse. Your pulse quickens as you look up at him, feeling a rush of arousal at his dominant display.
"Shall we?" Arthur's voice cut through the charged atmosphere, his gaze intense as he extended his hand. With a nod, you place your hand in his, allowing him to lead you back to your friends.
The rest of the night, Arthur throws his own rules out of the door, abandoning any pretense of restraint. He stays glued to your side, His arm draped protectively around your waist, or sometimes resting tenderly over your shoulder, as if to claim you as his own. He wanted to demonstrate to everyone present just how stunning you were, and more importantly, that you were his.
On your drive back home, you in the driver’s seat, a weighted silence fills the car, both grappling with the events of the night. Eventually, it was Arthur who broke it, his voice soft and filled with concern as he spoke, "Sorry if I seemed a bit too… clingy tonight. I didn’t mean to, I suppose I got a bit carried away."
You reply, your eyes remaining fixed on the road ahead, your tone reassuring and expression soft. "No, you don’t have to apologize. It was fine, honestly," you assure him.
The atmosphere in the car drifted into a comfortable lull, a moment of uncertainty, before you decided to break it with a teasing question, "So, Arthur, were you feeling a little jealous?" You glance at him, a playful smile tugging at your lips.
Arthur chuckled lightly, shaking his head in denial. "Not at all," he replied, though his expression remained hard to read as he turned to meet your gaze.
They came to a stop at a traffic light, the red glow illuminating the car. You turn to him, still teasing, "So, you weren't jealous?" you asked, pointing at him with a grin.
Arthur reached for your hand, intertwining their fingers and bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. His eyes held yours, and he said, "Just remember who you belong to, darling."
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Check out my other fics and oneshots here. Not working on any new requests currently but feel free to drop into my asks for a chat! 😊
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simplyafountainpen · 5 months ago
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Phantom Filled Nights
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{𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼}: Ciel Phantomhive x Older!Brother!Reader x Sebastian Michaelis
{𝓓𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓹𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷}: Life has finally caught up with (Y/n) but he refuses to break down. Ciel and Sebastian help him realize that even Guard Dogs need a break.
{𝓣𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓼}: Huge amount of angst, fluffy ending, familial reconciliation, Reader has extreme burn scars, Reader is implied to be heavily disfigured, Reader uses cane and has prosthetic, Reader implied to have PTSD to some degree, Reader goes through traumatic flashback (described to the best of my ability)
{𝓡𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽}: ❝I'm always shy when I make a ask, but i'll try. It's about black butler. I was thinking about a reader who is Ciel's big brother, like 3 years more older than ciel (u can choose) Like, male reader is overloaded with something (work or psychological things), you could put sebastian and the rest of them. I'm sorry for my bad English, im trying to not use the translator… i love your writing, btw❤❞ - Sasattan (@sasattan)
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When your little brothers disappeared, you were alone. No matter what anyone said or did, you refused to believe that they were dead. And so you waited. You never listened to your Aunt claiming it was time to move on, because how could you when they were still out there, holding on? You had to keep going, keep believing, not letting any lick of hope slip past your fingertips because the day when your two baby brothers would return was soon, you could feel it.
But as you eagerly awaited their return, time passed. And you grew older. And older. And older still. A mere two weeks passed and suddenly, you officially took the title as the Earl of Phantomhive, and the Queen’s Guard Dog. At fourteen years old, you bore responsibilities no child should ever have to.
And you had just turned fifteen years old when only one of your younger brothers returned, with that hellish butler of his.
·:¨༺ ♱✮¨:·ᨐฅ ᨐᵐᵉᵒʷ·:¨✮♱ ༻¨:·˚─── ⋆⋅⛥⋅⋆ ──
Owls cried beyond the window behind you as candle light washed the room you were in with a golden glow. The sound of a pen dashing across pages also filled the room. You sighed, deep and filled with melancholy, as you pushed a stack of pages by another - a finished pile - and grabbed another and quickly began to work. You knew it was long past midnight, all the servants in their quarters asleep.
And hopefully, Ciel as well. You had only just gotten him back a few months back. He had been painfully thin, eyes sunken into his skull and hair ridiculously thin when he returned. No matter how you or your Aunt pried and asked, Ciel wouldn’t answer where he’d been all that time. That one, God awful month of painful waiting. Your one birthday wish - a direct month after the manor burned - was that they would return.
And there Ciel would stand before his tomb. A ghost of the past returned to you in the most awful of ways.
Being the Guard Dog came with the side effect of witnessing the underbelly and gore of an England that worked under the cover of night, drenched in ash and blood. But what that eye held as he stared, limp and lifeless at you as that man, if you even dared call that beast a man, stood behind him smiling like he had won something. It would haunt you.
The pen dropped from your hand and your face fell forward onto the mahogany, falling to the side of the paper you had just been working on with a resounding ‘thump’ that echoed off the walls and reverberated in your ears. No matter how much you asked, or rather, begged him to let you in, to let his walls down and allow you the great pleasure of helping him work through whatever hell he evidently faced in such a long-feeling-yet-short amount of time, he refused. He’d look at you in a way you couldn’t understand, couldn’t comprehend, and mutter some ‘it wouldn’t matter’ under his breath and walk off with that dark thing following behind him.
Your head raised slowly and stared into the fire that crackled wildly with passion, focusing on your breathing so you didn’t spiral. You’d been stressed as of late, working on a particularly hard case while trying your best to be the shoulder Ciel so evidently needed to cry on. Endless amounts of paperwork had been forced on your shoulders and for some unspoken reason Funtom had suddenly taken a hit from a competitor, and working on a new product was sucking the absolute life out of you.
Your eyes were naturally drawn to the fire, gazing at the flickers of light and the bursts of cinder that would fall to the hearth and ignite in a final moment of flame before being silenced forever. Your eyes closed as the fire grew louder and you focused, brows furrowing as the world grew silent except for the growing roars of flame, ash and soot. The air seemed to grow heavy, mixing with a scent you hated but knew oh so intimately.
The case you had been handling lately involved the serial burnings of homes, each with families inside. The fires would always be set at midnight, and the homes were usually those of a wealthier lot. Nothing like an Earl or a Duke, but people with money nonetheless. The families always consisted of a mother, father, and at least one son, the most being quadruplets, never a daughter however. After the burning, the family would be confirmed dead by the suspect or suspects - you assumed it may be either a duo or a team - usually by caving heads and chests. The worst one so far had been a family where the father had just received a raise from his occupation - a butchers assistant - and all had died not a day later. What made it so bad was that fact that the twins burned in the fire were infants. Just barely two months old.
The remaining smell singed your nostrils and made your eyes water but you could not tear your eyes away from the group. The mother and father lying over the boys cradle, holding them in their arms.
You couldn’t help it. Shaking in your chair as your grit your teeth, trying to remove yourself from the thoughts that would replace that family with your own, hearing the panicked cries of your little brothers as fire consumed the walls and stairs, making escape nigh impossible.
You couldn’t help it as one of your hands trailed up your body, filled with blotches of burned flesh and stitches, gross and red and raised, that textured your skin under your bandages and thick, heavy clothes. It was sensitive. It was numb. You could feel the flames licking your skin as the crackling grew louder, breathing becoming harsh as hands raced to protect your face when the flames climbed the walls in your bedroom, making you scream.
You fell from your bed, night shirt clinging to your chest as sweat poured from your skin, crawling across your floor, which burned across your being, and pulled yourself up to wretch your door open, crumbling into the hall as you shouted for your family. You shuffled through the halls as servants ran about, screaming and crying. The smoke and heat stung at your eyes but you pushed forward, desperately calling for your mother and father. You collapsed into a wall, going low to take a deep breath and wheezing at the smoke you inhaled instead. You coughed, falling to the floor once more but continued to crawl, your calls much weaker than before.
Suddenly you were in the doorway of the study that held your family as fire burned through everything around you. It roared, forcing you back as you saw them huddled together, mother and father above your brothers. They screamed at you to stay back but you, ever the brash child, jumped through the flames to reach them, only for the floor to give out beneath you, leaving you trapped in the middle of the flames. It quickly ate away at you, nightshirt burning away and your skin blackening and peeling, your screams echoing across the home, actively being the loudest amongst the chaos. You struggled and cried, tears quickly drying up and evaporating, hands clawing at everything they could reach to pull yourself from the pain.
Hands wrapped around you, strong and safe, pulling on you. Unfortunately your leg took the brunt of the damage, snapping as you were pulled up from the ground. You cried, leg jutting at a horrible angle as you were rushed into the embrace of your mother, father cursing as he rushed back to the group. Your brothers clung to you, and you didn’t care as their nails dug into the fresh burns, stinging and bleeding. You looked up at your parents who were talking before your father spoke.
His voice was muffled, drowned out by the noise of the fire, and the group shuffled close to a window you hadn’t noticed, moving inch by inch in case any more floorboards were lose or weak. Your arms were tight around your brothers, hushing and shushing them, kissing their foreheads and patting their hair in attempts to comfort them. You all were as low to the ground as possible, the heat seeping into your bones and scorching your soul.
As soon as you all made it to the window, the fire had claimed over half the room and was right on your heels, its light blinding you. The adrenalin was the only thing keeping you from passing out from pain, mother's grip growing tighter as father rushed to the window and forced it open, eventually punching through the glass and lifting it that way, the noise imprinting itself in your brain.
You were torn from your brothers, a scream immediately shredding itself from your throat. Thrashing to the best of your ability, you were only calmed by your father’s hands on your shoulders. He glanced outside - to see if it was safe to jump you assumed - and leaned in close, pressing many kisses to your head. You looked back and saw your mother, who was still holding your brothers, smiling at you.
“You are the most injured of all of us. You need to go first.” Your father began. You immediately shook your head, pointing to your brothers but father shushed you.
“No. They’ll be out right behind you, I promise. I love you, so so much, and so does your mother. Please.” You looked back at the fire that was consuming the floors and walls at a rapid pace, creeping closer to your family. You sniffled, nodding, and hugged your father. He hugged you back, lifting you and carrying you to the window, mindful of the glass.
“Aim for the bushes, my little soldier. They’ll cushion your landing.” You nodded again. Before he dropped you, you turned to your father and family.
“I love you all.” You whispered. And you were met with declarations of love back. Then, the wind whipped wildly around you as you fell.
You didn’t know what happened, what changed your trajectory, why you were suddenly in so much pain.
… Your lower back hurt. Bad.
Something crashed above you and your saw the window you just fell out of grow dark, as though something fell in front of it inside, then flame burst forth from remains, glass raining down over your withered form, that of which screamed and cried.
You were never very religious. Church was not something your family partook in to often, but in that moment you preyed. Clasped your hands above your head and preyed, cried, and screamed. Your eyes were clouded with tears, and noticed that a red blob followed by several other blobs raced towards you, scream-like-noises emitting around you.
Voices sounding like they were calling from the bottom of the sea rung in your skull and made you cry more, hands coming to your ears as your vision darkened around the edges.
“BROTHER!!”
You didn’t react, covering your ears with both hands, begging that the noises and the lights would go away. Your leg, you couldn’t feel it. The damn thing felt like lead weight attached to you, the burns were itchy and your fingers raced to scratch at them, the heat of the flames making everything unbearable.
You started stripping, if just to cool off the tiniest bit, but something stopped you. A hand, it seemed. Before you could scream again you were sat up against a wall, figures dancing in your corroded sight. Your face, tainted as it was with scars, was wet with tears - bloody tears mind you - and drool from your stuck-open mouth, moaning and gasping and sobbing.
Your entire body shook as someone sat beside you, not saying anything for a moment. Finally, you heard a choked cry that wasn’t your own from that shadow beside you.
“What’s wrong..?” It whispered. The voice was soft and scratchy, as though it hadn’t been used in a long while. You sobbed again as the flames licked your terrorized flesh.
“The fire…” you murmured. Though before it could speak again you spoke more. “It took them from me… it burns… everything hurts… my leg…” your voice grew ever quieter as you strained, double vision making it hard to see your lap as you looked down and towards the leg that burned oh so painfully. In a moment of agonizing pain, your hands wrapped around the dead weight of your leg, teeth grinding together as you pulled at it. The voice gasped as you screamed out, the leg finally being torn from your body and launched across the field of grass you lay on. You cried harder as it flew and clattered against the dirt, the pain only getting worse. The voice was silent for only a moment more before speaking again.
“What do you need me to do?” It whispered, and you screamed. “MAKE IT STOP!.. MAKE THE FIRE STOP OH PLEASE!! IT BURNS LIKE HELL I CAN’T TAKE IT!!!” Your cries echoed as you slid on the wall until you were curled in a sideways fetal position, face pressed against the grass as you hiccupped.
More muddled voices filled your hearing as your vision blurred and danced, making the world spin and leap, disorienting you further. You pushed your head into your leg, sobbing even louder still. It stayed silent for a bit longer but the presence came closer and began breathing loudly, holding his breath for a couple seconds and exhaling just as loud. He did this a couple times and you couldn't help to copy, your breathing slowly matching that of the other's. Your tears still fell, but the shuddering came to a halt.
"(Y/n), where are you right now?" He questioned. You kept breathing, thinking with your eyes closed.
"I'm outside. T-the manor is on fire and... and uhm-" "Breathe." You nodded, stopping to breathe. The person beside you also kept breathing with you, emphasizing the deep breaths and long exhales.
"You're not outside, (Y/n). You're in a hallway inside the manor." Your breath shuttered and his breathing immediately got louder and you followed. "That night was a few month ago. The manor is fully rebuilt. You're in a hallway just outside the study. It's around... one? One AM, I believe." You nodded, still in fetal position. You whined, and curled a bit further into yourself. The other sighed and scooted closer.
"(Y/n)... can you look at me please?" You shivered, but nodded again. It took you a few seconds but eventually you were able to sit yourself back up and looked over, meeting the teary eyes of Ciel. You blinked, staring at him. It took you a moment, really taking in the fact that he was before you, not in the manor? You finally began looking around, breathing growing heavy again as tears welled up in your eyes.
"(Y/n)! (Y/n), look at me. You need to keep breathing." You nodded but kept looking around. You sniffed, rubbing at your face and eyes and itching at any burns on your face. "(Y/n), can you stop scratching please?" You huffed, and didn't comply. In fact, you scratched a little harder, skin braking and breathing a bit harder. You heard Ciel shuffle around, before appearing before you. He stared into your eyes, then raised his hands slowly. They slowly moved to your wrists, but you flinched back, thus making Ciel flinch. He kept looking you in the eye, an unspoken staring contest sparking between you. He broke it first, sighing.
"(Y/n), may I touch you?" You jumped, staying silent. You continued to stare, breathing deeply more. You nodded. He nodded as well, once more moving slowly and steadily to gently grip your wrists, pulling them from your face. You looked down as he muttered something about needing to bandage the wounds.
"Sebastian in going through the house and putting out all the fireplaces." Ciel suddenly mentioned. You looked up, still allowing him to hold onto you - which was now him holding your hands in his lap - and tilted your head, silently asking him what he meant.
"Earlier you said something about fire," he was purposely omitting what you said, you noticed, "So I sent him off. To put out all the fires in the manor, I mean." You got the double meaning relatively fast. He understood the man made you remarkably uncomfortable, and sent him away before you could even recognize he was there. You nodded again, acknowledging his statement.
“Do you want me to bring you your leg?” He asked. You squinted and he sighed. “I meant- Your prosthetic. Would you like me to bring your prosthetic leg to you? As well as your cane?” Your head rapidly shook and you shrunk into yourself.
“Do you want to go to your bedroom? Or office?” He looked confused, which was fair as you shook your head again. “Do you want to… stay here?” Finally you sighed. Ciel continued to sit before you, taking in the sight of such a shaken version you.
You looked so tired, eyes sunken and sweat rolling down your forehead. Your scarred and heavily bandaged face still had tear tracks, and the bandages trailed beneath the collar of your shirt and traced your arms and - assumedly - your remaining leg. You still shook a little, though much less than earlier. Your hair was a mess of fly-away’s and frizz, some even stuck to your cheek from when you collapsed in your office.
Both you and Ciel stared at each other, taking each other in. The signs of trauma literally stamped themselves all across you both, tailing each of you with a scent of death that wouldn’t go away no matter how hard you scrubbed at your skin. For a moment, both your breaths stilled. Then you started crying again.
Your head curled towards your chest, hands rushing to your face. Ciel immediately went to comfort you, but your head was then thrown back, knocking back on the wall, though that didn’t deter your laughter. A wide grin had found with way onto your face, eyes closed and tears streaming down your cheeks. Both your hands quickly found their way around Ciel’s shoulders, drawing him into a tight hug. Your head rested on his, sobbing into his hair.
Ciel sat there, gobsmacked, but finally leaned into your touch, his arms embracing you and nuzzled into your chest, tears finally finding their way into his eyes, and a muffled wail made its way from his throat.
“You’re here with me..! I... I can feel you! Don’t leave, okay? P-promise me you won’t leave..!” You cried. Ciel was pulled firmly into your lap so you could fully wrap around him, entirely engulfing him in your embrace. Both of you continued to hold each other, sobbing and laughing and crying. Everything seemed to piece together as you held each other, finally having your little brother in your arms. He hadn’t been this emotionally available since he returned, and work had kept you from interacting to much with him, so this? Feeling him against you when both of you were long past the line of breaking, it was nice.
Being here, with him, in this moment of weakness, was nice.
·:¨༺ ♱✮¨:·ᨐฅ ᨐᵐᵉᵒʷ·:¨✮♱ ༻¨:·˚─── ⋆⋅⛥⋅⋆ ──
{𝓝𝓸 𝓞𝓷𝓮'𝓼 𝓟.𝓞.𝓥}
Sebastian walked through the halls lit only by the candle in his grip after extinguishing every single fire place in the manor. He walked back to the last place he’d seen his young Master, that being with his older brother in a hall as said brother had an attack.
Sebastian would be a liar to say he hadn’t wanted to be there and “help” - he just wanted to see what that kind of attack was like, really - but unfortunately, he’d been sent off to make the teenager much more comfortable, even if he couldn’t see the fires in other rooms.
Something about “being able to be assured it won’t happen again” or whatever his Master had said.
His eyes stalked the halls, the candle nothing more than a formality as to not scare the children when he would find them, a dull smile plastered on his face. He truly wanted nothing more than to go back to his room and enjoy the latest cat he had stole- adopted.
His brisk pace paused as his gaze finally landed on the intertwined bodies of the two remaining Phantomhive children, (Y/n)’s body enveloping Ciel’s in a firm embrace, the duo sound asleep against the floor. (Y/n)’s leg was a length away, and the candle Ciel had was little more that a nub surrounded by wax. Ciel’s head was cushioned by (Y/n)’s hand, the elders own body being the thing the majority of Ciel’s own body rested on.
Sebastian stared at them for a moment, simply taking in the view, and walked towards them, slipping a hand under (Y/n) and balancing Ciel on top of him, walking them both towards the Earl’s bedroom. The walking seemingly jostled them a bit, as (Y/n) groaned and hugged Ciel tighter. One of his eyes peaked open, looking at Sebastian who kept his eyes forward.
His eyes stayed on the older’s face, trained on his features. Sebastian ignored the look and kept pressing forward through the cold halls, candle somehow still balanced in his hand but far enough to not distress the drowsy boy anymore for the night.
“… Thank you.” (Y/n) muttered, eye closing back and falling back into sleep. Sebastian finally eyed him as the boy snuggled Ciel closer, who only grunted into his chest. The rocking motion led (Y/n) back into slumber, evident by the deep breathing and the most relaxed expression Sebastian had seen on his face.
The Demon only huffed, a ghost of a smile on his face. He walked them to (Y/n)'s bedroom, pulling back the sheets of the bed and laying them both down. He didn't even try to separate them, knowing that it would be useless to even try with them both in the emotional state they were in, even if in sleep.
Sebastian pulled the covers over them, running a hand through both heads of hair. With candle still in hand, he walked out the room, closing the door till a crack, staring at the two children who pulled the other impossibly closer. Something deep in the man's eyes shined, though it was nothing but a dull glimmer.
"Goodnight, Young Masters." He breathed. He gently closed the door behind him, leaving the two to dream the night away.
The moon danced over their sleeping forms, the cloudless night offering stars to light their paths deeper into the realm of sleep. Both subconsciously reaching out to their sibling to calm their troubled minds and finally find some semblance of sleep for the first time in weeks.
Finally reunited, though with much work of reconciliation ahead of them, was nice.
Being together, holding each other; knowing the other was there, safe and sound, was nice.
This first moment of true calm mental silence, was nice.
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{𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓼}: I hope this pleases, because for some reason this was incredibly difficult to write. I did, however, give it my all and push through so that I may deliver. Again, I hope you enjoy nonetheless.
-🖋️
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All publishings on this account belong to @fountain-pen-anon. I do not authorize my fics being altered, translated, stolen or published/reposted to other sites, thank you.
© fountain-pen-anon - all rights reserved
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genericpuff · 6 months ago
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oh boy it's that time again
when rachel posts 'video progress' of her work and we proceed to dissect it like a frog in 9th grade science class
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like ok first the caption of "is persephone the chicken and hades the egg" makes no fucking sense except to anyone who overthinks it and goes "wait is that a reference to the popularly-perpetuated version of the myth where persephone went down to the underworld willingly and hades didn't actually exist???" because if it is ima scream lmao
but MORE IMPORTANTLY-
Here's the transcript of what she's saying in the video:
"I think I've always wanted to write Hades' and Persephone's story because obviously I really like them. It's like very much a chicken and egg situation because I think in the beginning I thought that I was going to use a very abstract black and white style, and I realized it wasn't very enticing or fun for me, um... and I started drawing these very like vibrant characters and as I drew them I understood more about the story the more that I explored the art style, um and I guess an example of that is, y'know, Persephone is like a very bright color um, and the Underworld, is a very dark dark blue, and so when she says she really sticks out so it's just environmental uh processes like that that really helped inspire the direction of the story."
(despite her expanding on the "chicken and the egg" bit it still doesn't make sense imo lmao)
But what we're seeing isn't S1 LO, it's actually from S3 of LO:
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But um... you notice anything interesting about the screenshot I just showed you?
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That literally looks NOTHING like what we see in the final panel. At the VERY least I think this goes to show how overcooked it becomes in post-production, when they add the canvas layer and hypersaturate the shit out of the colors, but even the blending technique just isn't matching up?
A lot of what she's doing in this video also feels very... non-existent, like she's brushing her pen around but very little is happening so it feels more like her just putting down random brush strokes to try and make it seem put-together but really she's just kind of pushing colors around and/or doing nothing. Especially when, again, what she's painting here looks nothing like the final picture (so at best it's a lot of wasted work??)
And knowing what we know about the assistants drawing the characters separately so that Rachel can rearrange them in the final episode layout... I don't wanna call foul play here, but this feels like yet another attempt on Rachel's behalf to make her process seem more involved than it is by simply redrawing a scene for the performative aspect of it all. It's like the "sketches" in the books looking way too 'clean' for the final product and giving the impression that she just sketched over the final panels to make them look pretty enough for print.
I also wanna mention that for some reason she's drawing this on her iPad when she owns a Cintiq. It could be because she was drawing this while abroad in the US for her conventions last fall, but despite clearly being ahead of schedule, she still wound up drawing the final episode the night of-
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Oh yeah and btw there are like a million clipping layers for what looks like just a simple drawing of Demeter. And this lines up with our previous theories about her using like 128549021809 layers for literally one character.
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And aside from all that her commentary, as always, is very nothingburger, just a bunch of word salad. Like she's literally trying to explain LO's color theory as "well Persephone is bright pink and the Underworld is dark blue so she sticks out! That's all you need to know!"
IDK, I'm not coming to any sort of ironclad conclusion based off this one video, but it does feel like yet another desperate attempt to prove that she does work on LO and doesn't just leave it all to her assistants to do at the last minute. But like... she's kind of screwed in that argument either way, because even if she draws the majority of panels in LO, that just further proves the argument that she's stopped trying.
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i-yap · 6 months ago
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Classic ask but Batboys reaction to gn s/o wearing their clothes 🤞
Yessss i love that one ive read so many but I'm gonna change it a little bit and talk a bit more about the type of clothes they prefer and what they usually wear themselves. Just a headcanon about clothes.
Its gonna be a series cuz its kind of long .
Also i may suck at writing gn I'm sorry if I offend anyone or write something stupid. Im a cis fem she /her who grew up in a very close minded family so I'm really sorry just let me know if I write anything stupid and ill edit it okay?
WARNING - there is mention of bodies like some specification on what the readers body may look like. and a little about sex
Batboys reaction to gn s/o wearing their clothes - Dick grayson edition
dick grayson
dick wears a tank top and shorts at home which make his ass look hot(it always does).
He really likes it when you wear his boxer shorts or pajama pants or sweatpants which is tied to the hips and a simple cloth bra(if you wear one or shirtless if you don't) ( they're a little different from sports bra super light and so comfortable). but he loves just seeing you in any underwear and not just for sexual reasons.
it just makes him feel warm inside thinking how comfortable you feel around him and how your not insecure about your skin showing around him. for example If you had an insecurity about your stomach but can walk around in just shorts and shirtless/bra with him, it makes him feel like he has won against those stupid negative thoughts you have .
there is a very thin layer between you guys while cuddling And dick is really really warm so this way there is not too much overheating since direct skin to skin makes it uncomftably warm. I mean if you get cold easily you are welcome to take those off. Plus don't pretend that you wont slide your hands under that tank top to feel his abs.
When walking outside , Rather than taking off his entire coat to give you, he pulls you inside his coat so that you're sharing it or giving you the coat and then pulling you into his side and since your body is therefore pressed against his, more warmth. . he also will take off his scarf and gloves and basically wrap you up in it .
If you complain and say " you'll get cold tho" he'll laugh it off and say something cheesy like " you keep my heart warm..plus babe you know just how hot I am"
He loves wrapping you up in clothes in the gotham winter. " dickie your gloves are too big for me, I don't need glovess" , "bigger gloves mean more warmth, and you'll need them in just a minute"
you did need those gloves btw.
Also he likes wearing a little something of yours. Like if you wear multiple rings , he will buy you a much more meaningful and better quality one and then you're like " ugh I feel pressured to get you something you're too nice to mee" he just takes one of those rings that you got from a roadstand when you had change to spare and be like "we're equal now"
He will wear that ring everywhere , like will not leave without it.
also gets you a nightwing logo small pendant made out of the strongest material ( so u arent scared of breaking it) or some neckpiece he has been wearing forever ( he has in some comics) and it'll be long enough to easily hide (between your breasts/pecs/chest making it a fun sex thing )And wants you to wear it forever and never take it off.
He also likes it if you wear his shirts. Like dick wears these nice classic shirts which are well fitted ( a little tight too cuz its dick) and nice beige pants. So if you can wear his shirts without them being super tight( its hot when its a little tight around the chest/boobs/pecs ) or super drowny when you go to work , he loves it.
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sammiesallow · 2 years ago
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Sebastian Sallow headcanons
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summary- dating headcanons with Sebastian. a/n- all my personal opinion! cw's- mentions of violence/blood, use of crucio, angry Sebastian
the jealous type. we all know this.
he gets so jealous when you spend time with Garreth, but then you reassure him it's ok :)
"I could never replace you with anyone else seb, you're my pretty boy"
melts at that btw.
nicknames galore!! he wants to call you everything and he expects it back from you too
'angel, darling, honey, sweetheart, pretty boy.
"you think I'm pretty? really?" "of course I do, Seb."
he gives you the most blinding smile you have ever seen. absolutely adorable
y'all are so loving?? he is definitely a lover of pda, doesn't mind holding hands, a hand on the thigh(not in an intimate way, just for some physical touch :D), a kiss on the cheek, etc.
Sebastian is always touch-starved and craves attention from you. even a look in his direction or a "Hi Darling!" as you're passing him in the hallway will have him smiling like an idiot for the rest of the day
more intimate moments are shared in private, however, like in the undercroft.
Merlin knows those paintings, gargoyles, suits of armor, even the floo flames lady will eavesdrop on y'all and tattletale to a professor if you do anything more than share a kiss on the cheek.
Sebastian loves you with all his heart. he couldn't bear the thought of you getting hurt or worse
every time you leave the castle, please send him an owl. it lets him know where you're going and it tells him you're safe.
he's worried sick if you come back with even the slightest scratch.
"Merlin's beard! darling, are you alright? are you hurt anywhere? do you want me to kiss it better???" he says as you come into the undercroft with one scratch on your face LOLL
it's all fun and games until someone hurts you. let's say you're on a quest together, somewhere in a cave and you two get ambushed. it would probably go like this:
"Diffindo!" an Ashwinder threw out the spell in your direction, hitting your abdomen and leaving a large gash in its wake. Sebastian yelped, not having noticed your state, and threw a quick "arresto momentum!" in the enemy's way to stall their time. "merlin! are you alright-" Sebastian stopped all movement when he saw you- you were hunched over in pain, groaning as you tried to stop the bleeding coming from the gash on your side. At that moment, he felt nothing but pure and unbridled rage. "you BASTARD!" Sebastian turned to the Ashwinder, (who was quite literally about to cast Avada kedavra on him) and cast crucio. nobody touches his girlfriend.
that's definitely one of his red flags.. he has anger issues, and won't hesitate to hurt someone if they hurt you. it's kinda endearing though
speaking of red flags- I'm not gonna ignore them? we all love him but he does have negative traits that will show through in y'alls relationship.
He's overly possessive and gets super upset when another boy tries to flirt with you. if you don't say something to the guy- sebastian will; and i dont think you want that.
he's not very in-touch with his emotions. he has a hard time expressing his feelings because of a) his insecurities and b) his ego.
but on a more positive note, you help him through these things!
meeting ominis and becoming friends with him gave you the opportunity to ask another person about sebastians troubles, and you can confide in him for advice when you need it!
you're sebastian's sunshine- quite literally. you help him through his tough times, and on a regular day, you brighten his mood imensely.
ON TO THE CUTER RELATIONSHIP STUFF!!!
HE WANTS TO CUDDLE YOU.
if he's tired he becomes 100% more affectionate- which means cuddles in the undercroft, his head on your shoulder in class, a hand on your under the table at dinner, etc.
Sebastian isn't the brightest, but if he has a class with you, he'll listen to anything you have to say.
he adores your smarts- whether or not you're actually smart is up to you, but it's not like he'll care. you could be the dumbest mf in the world and he'll still be proud of you!
he's your cheerleader! in crossed wands, the broom race against imelda, summoner's court, even an arm wrestling contest, he's there to cheer you on
it's because he never had someone to do that for him- losing his parents at such a young age, he didnt have cheerleaders to be proud of him through his achievments, so he does it for you!
in return, you take him on cute little dates!
little picnics in the vivarium are his favorite. he loves the feeling of laying of the grass and cloudgazing with you.
you know he needs to relax- so it becomes a regular thing for you two to sneak off to the room of requirement.
the undercroft is still a regular hang-out, usually used for absolute tomfoolery.
i mean, you sebastian and ominis will have stupid competitions all the time.
"let's see who can cast confringo the farthest!!" "Sebastian no!!" "Sebastian yes!"
chaos trio.
more importantly, chaos duo.
you enable his stupid ideas and make sure that he does them safely.
unless it's something stupidly unsafe- then you'll have to lure him back to the undercroft with cuddles and kisses. <3
A/N- MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!! pls send me ideas!! :)
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