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#because i thought the cards were ugly
fluffleforce-mysdrym · 10 months
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Person: Are you selling any more pokemon cards?
Me: So many. What exactly are you looking for?
Person: Can you just send me pictures of what you have?
Me: I have 4 binders I'm trying to get rid of, thousands of cards. Can you be more specific for what you're looking for? Like a certain set or a specific card you're missing or...?
Person: Anything vintage.
Me: That means nothing to me.
Person: Holos.
Me: So I have over a hundred of those and ebay has been finicky and won't let me load pics with more than 3 cards at a time (well, sometimes 6 if I'm lucky), and I can only put 5 pics at a time per message. It would really help if we could, like, focus on a specific set. Some sets, I have almost the whole thing, some I'm not selling, and some I have a whopping single card for.
Person: Any holos before 2013.
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I should not have posted any cards before finishing my inventory of what I have. This is 100% my fault, but god damn would it be nice if someone would work with me and ask about specific sets/cards. I can find those faster than a nebulous, "Haha, whatever you have."
I don't even know what all I have.
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leatherbookmark · 5 months
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ootd features the words "black dress" in its lyrics and people are like oh! this is a reference to another group's song, "black dress"!
i'm unwell.
#shrimp thoughts#also 'you people just Don't Understand' part 2: apparently there will be Part Two. just like with gee idle's allergy and queen/card#which. lol. apparently 'when allergy came out people were shocked because the it was basically 'if you're ugly tough shit just get a#surgery' but once queen/card came out everything was clear!' and like. how was it clear. what was clear.#one song is 'boo hoo i'm so ugly i hate looking at myself in the mirror and no one likes me i should get plastic surgery'#and the other is like 'ya hoo i'm so hot and sexy i'm like these two western celebrities!!!! i'm so cool i'm twerking on the runway'#kp/op kinda sucks balls in that it's like.... musical equivalent of tjlc crossed with marvel. it's basic ass pop made to sell except with a#faux deep garnish. and sometimes the garnish stands on its own! like if you take guerrilla it's clear that there's actually no deeper or#more detailed philosophy behind it. it's not really n.o where the 'rebellion' was actually supposed to be against something concrete#it's like. we want to feel! we don't want... not to feel! but the sound and visuals are strong enough that you don't mind it#like fuck yeah the lads are staging a revolution now! and now they're outlaws in a western! sort of! and now it's alice in wonderland!#but v often the companies actively make use of the fact that kp/op stans will obsessively look for Depth and Serious Themes in their#cultural reset slaying sotys. a girl looks at a butterfly? oh the song is about having an identity crisis like in that one poem about a guy#dreaming about being a butterfly. it's actually very deep and you can see it was all planned because there was a little butterfly icon#above the tracklist. and the fans get so attached to their headcanons theories and interpretations that they don't stop for a second#to check if there was anything in the 'text' in the first place#remember that one magritte post? this is also how kp/op stans interpret things. she wears a blue dress here and blue is the color of summer#and summer is when you have holidays and don't have to go to school! so by this blue dress she's trying to say that you should love#yourself and strive to be the best version of yourself by embracing your hobbies and extracurricular interests. this is so genius 😭
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gay-dorito-dust · 9 days
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Hello could I please request civilian!reader staring at the batboys for a long time and goes “why are you so perfect and handsome, I’m so lucky to have you and I will protect you with my tiny body and hands” 🌸
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Idk whether or not this is what you wanted anon but I hope you like it at least in some way 😂
Jason can’t help but let out a full belly laugh upon hearing your declaration after having stared at him for a full hour, as he walked over to you to cup your face in his hands and rest his head against yours.
‘How sweet you of chipmunk, I’ll make sure to keep that in mind whenever I’m in trouble.’ He murmurs as his thumbs stroked your cheeks.
He found it extremely endearing and sweet that you would ever go out of your way to protect someone like him but he preferred if you were to stay at home where it was relatively safe. Jason cared way too much about you to loose you, even if the comment was made in a lighthearted way.
Gotham was far too cruel for someone like you and you both knew it, the city was bound to swallow you whole before you even made it down the street.
The other thing that stuck in Jason’s mind how you thought he was perfect and handsome, to which he would always respond with;
‘I’m far from being either of those things chipmunk, but I’ll take the compliment.’
Jason didn’t view himself as an ugly dude but nor did he think of himself as handsome either, he grew up in Crime Alley and was taken in by a billionaire, he never had times to focus on the way he looked or acted in the eyes of others. Until you of course.
To Jason, Dick was someone many would consider a handsome and perfect man while those same many often regarded him as the complete opposite under the same breath. So whenever you held his face in your hands and called him handsome or perfect with a look of utter love and adoration in your eyes, Jason can’t help but find himself slowly starting to believe that he was in fact a handsome man.
If anything Jason views himself as the one who is lucky to have someone as good and as perfect as you and he reminds you of it day and night, whether he was Jason Todd, your perfect man or Red Hood, feared vigilante of Gotham.
Dick: found it really cute that you thought you could protect him, someone who had the insane flexibility and agility of a cat, but he wasn’t one to crush your dreams and aspirations.
‘My hero has finally come to save me?’ He’d gasp dramatically as he practically falls into your arms, causing you to buckle under his weight and collapse on the bed and giggle at his theatrics.
However he wouldn’t dare let you put yourself in danger in any way shape or form for the likes of him, he refused it as this life had nothing but take and take and take from him anything and everything he held dear.
He still remembered how he felt partially responsible for Jason’s death that he tries to make up for it by being in his corner when it seemed as though everyone thought ill of him.
So Dick really doesn’t want you going and pulling the heroic card on him as he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle it, he’d act like he could when in reality he was doing far worse then anyone could imagine. So it be better if you let him do the saving.
Now Dick was aware of his own attractiveness and appeal but when you were the one calling him perfect and handsome, he’s smiling widely and internally kicking his feet and saying silly shit like;
‘You still have a crush on me? How embarrassing for you.’ To which you respond with ‘Dick we’ve been dating for 8 months-‘
When anyone else calls Dick handsome they are pointing out an already pre established fact, but when you’re the one saying he’s handsome it has more meaning as it felt as though he was being shown something that he never knew was there before. He lived for every time you called him handsome and it wasn’t because of an ego thing, he just like you calling him handsome and would never want to live in reality where he never heard you say it ever again.
Damian;
‘I can protect us both without issue so there’s no need for that.’
He sometimes takes your word a little too literally, regardless whether you were joking or not.
He was the crime fighter out of you both, so just let him do all the fighting, he doesn’t want your eyes to be burdened with the violence and criminal activity that he was accustomed to.
Also when you called him perfect and handsome, Poor Damian didn’t know what to think as it wasn’t something he viewed himself as nor expected anyone outside of his family to either.
He could handle insults and such but soft words laced with love and care towards him was an entirely new feeling for him in general that it both scared and excited him simultaneously. Besides Damian wasn’t interested in tibial things such as being conventionally attractive or whatever troubles the average person, he never thought it of any importance when other things took presidency in his life.
However when you compliment him, Damian couldn’t help but feel as though he was a little boy again, he would feel himself stiffen for a moment before the appropriate response came to him as easy as breathing, because caring for you was as easy as breathing to Damian and he’d do anything to make sure you were safe and sound wherever you are; for without you he’d be deeply lost.
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pauli-writes · 1 month
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May I request an Aventurine with a reader who's a member of the Astral Express?
Have a nice day!
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warning: reader is suffering from nightmares, references to gambling (it’s aventurine after all), flirting
pairing: aventurine x reader
author’s note: this man has taken over my mind, i’m so excited for 2.1 !!! also thank you for requesting, sorry this took so long i had private matters to take care of :3 (this is once again not proofread and partially written at 3am)
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being quiet was never really your forte.
whenever you couldn’t sleep at the night you’d restlessly wonder around the astral express, the morning after dan heng would usually complain that you were too loud even though you were trying real hard to stay quiet.
now in the reverie, the hotel in penacony you were staying at, the space was much bigger and the occupants much more lively, not to mention dan heng wasn’t even with you, so he had no chance to complain.
another restless night and you wandered around the hotel. while other guests indulged in the dreamscape, you stayed in reality, afraid that the usual comfort of the dreamscape will twist into something ugly and gruesome for you because of your nightly terrors.
you looked around, most people were asleep, only a few guest were awake, sitting by the bar or enjoying the music. without your friends from the express you felt a little out of place.
“oh, and what do we have here?” a voice snapped you out of your self pity. you looked around, only to find that ipc guy from when you were checking in standing next to you, a golden coin being twirled in between his fingers. “aren’t you a member of the astral express? i think i saw you earlier...”
“i am…” you replied cautiously, not sure of his intentions. “you’re with the ipc, correct?”
he smirked, he threw his coin in the air before pocketing it. “yes. tell me something, why aren’t you dreaming with the rest of your friends?”
you tensed up, unsure of how much you should reveal to him. you didn’t even know his name yet. “i don’t sleep well.”
he paused, looking at you curiously. “do you now?”
“yes.” you said defensively and slightly annoyed. he wasn’t exactly making a good first impression on you despite his rather attractive appearance. “why aren’t you dreaming?”
“let’s just say i have business to take care of first,” he replied, in the same breath he pulled out a pack of cards. “although i have some time to kill until my meeting, care for a game?”
you thought for a moment, before nodding. “it’s not like i have anything better to do…”
the blond smiled and started shuffling the cards with his skilful fingers, you didn’t even know what game you were playing yet, but found yourself at least slightly interested. you gained your hand and he explained the rules, but a few turns in it was apparent that he was much better than you. he won easily.
you sighed and gave him his cards back. “you don’t mess around, huh?”
he chuckled, “of course not. i play to win.”
“even without a wager,” you mused with a smile, watching as he put the cards away. he chuckled too.
“i have too leave now. it was nice meeting you, i hope to see you again, sweetheart.” he flashed you a charming smile and a wink.
you rolled your eyes playfully, “you don’t even know my name, i doubt you’d even remember me.”
“oh, i think it’d be impossible not to remember you. you’re very unique believe it or not.” he stepped closer to you, it was then that you noticed how he was slightly taller than you. you opened your mouth to give him another snarky remark, but was stopped as he pressed a gentle kiss on your cheek. as he pulled away you could feel your face heating up.
“cute.” he said with a chuckle as he stepped away from you, “we’ll meet again after everything is over. i promise you that.”
he walked away, giving you a nonchalant wave over his shoulder and leaving you sitting at the bar with a bright red face. you watched him walk up the stairs, disappearing down the hallways leading to the rooms.
once he was out of your sight you calmed down a bit and gathered your thoughts, it was then that you noticed that there was a foreign object in the pocket of your coat. you grabbed it and looked at it, it was a playing card, queen of hearts, on the back scribbled with a golden pen was:
something to remember me by
- aventurine
you couldn’t help but grin and pocketed the card, just in that moment you saw mr. yang and himiko walk down the stairs talking animatedly. did you really spend the entire night awake…?
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astrologanize · 2 months
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pick a card : what making out with you feels like for them ᡣ𐭩…
could be someone you're already seeing or your future person, whatever it is...whoever you are asking about...this is what it feels like for them (: *please take a moment to take a deep breath and choose the image you are most drawn towards*
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for pile 1 ✩˚
well, hello there. while trying to channel and synthesize this spread i thought about how this pile has something very instinctive going on within the makeout sessions, there's viscera, and cillian murphy came to mind somehow?? he does have a very mars look imo so maybe that's why, but it reminded me of a gif that i believe is from peaky blinders (never seen the show but i exist on tumblr so...) that i will add (it's a lil nsfw i guess?). anyhow. when it comes to your makeouts with this person, it feels like a nice balance of release and control for them because on one hand they do feel very disarmed while making out with you but at the same time they're acting deliberately - which is why instinct is coming through...it's like having a flow of reflexive movement. i'm not seeing you two going crazy and having vigorous kisses, there is a slowness to it, there's a building of inertia. making out with you makes them feel like their life is in their hands, their free will is palpably felt, and it brings out a sort of self-discipline in them
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for pile 2 ✩˚
this person looooooves making out with you, they feel like they're having a movie moment when you guys are kissing, and the connection itself is what is at the forefront when they're kissing you. this seems like someone who hasn't had great experiences with romance and making out with you imbues them with so much hope. it's like if this person had a horribly messy breakup a couple years prior, they were with someone for quite a while and it ended up turning into a nightmare that left an ugly mark and they became jaded by it. making out with you feels like a rebirth - they don't feel afraid, they feel uninhibited, their cup is wonderfully full. they are not in the slightest bit doubtful of how they feel for you and they are certain that they want this; when they kiss you it will feel like a sweet plead - please love me back. there is no ego when it comes to kissing you because they are happily willing to give their all. making out with you does help them to move on from any residual gunk they've been dealing with
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for pile 3 ✩˚
what is wanting to come through strongly is that this person is the one somehow taking the lead in the makeout session because when they're making out with you they feel firm, they feel empowered, they're like 'i got this'. lol...funnily enough though, whatever it is about making out with you...they don't expect it to go the way it does and it throws them off their game. something about making out with you is new for them, there's a notable oscillation happening within them, an internal battle of hot n cold energy. the makeout session itself won't be all over the place, once you start making out you guys just keep going at a constant and indefinite pace. this person is probably used to getting what they want/doing what they want/being reckless, this person is hardened - they keep their feelings in check and like being in control. & even though they feel in control while making out with you and do like feeling as such, there's something about making out with you that wakes them up and brings out a softer side. making out with you feels like a stream of consciousness for them
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for pile 4 ✩˚
this is my fun makeout sesh pile 😛
what you guys say to each other before/during making out is being highlighted so maybe there's some steamy words being exchanged, some sweet talkin' perhaps. y'alls makeout session(s) involves experimenting, it's messy, it's sloppy, there's coloring outside the lines, it's an indulgence and you guys change things up during it. it does seem like this is more casual and that this person might be hesitant to take things further. this may be someone who is really attached to their independence and/or is perpetually single so even though they're having fun with it, they are holding back and not giving their all. making out with you is going to make them try to consider and factor feelings into the equation, they may just take the leap for once
love this song for pile 4
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kjdkive · 9 months
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couple questions with vogue — jjk.
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summary: yn, world-famous model and jungkook world-famous artist are invited as a couple to answer some questions for vogue on a video. both known to be a chaotic couple are expected to show their competitive side.
pairing: idol! jungkook and model! yn (afab)
warnings: cursing, some dirty jokes? jungkook being the best boyfriend ever i want him so bad, third person narration
a/n: thinking about doing this for some other bts members but not really sure lol let's see how this one goes and go from there. also i used to be a wattpad writer and there we use — not " and i actually hate writing dialogues with " oh and also i mention a few things that are not true about jungkook but this is my universe and in this universe that happened yn happened
— hello, vogue! i’m yn and it’s so nice to be back here — yn says to the camera. 
— hello, i’m yn’s boyfriend, jungkook — jungkook says, smiling to the camera — i am also in a band but not that that matters. 
— i’m your fianceé, babe, remember? — yn lifts her left hand to show her engagement ring.
— she’s my soon-to-be wife, guys — jungkook giggles and stands up from his seat a little to give her a short kiss on her cheek.
— okay, my boyfriend’s humble as you can see but we’ll see if he’s a good boyfriend/fiancé because we’re gonna do the couple questions challenge! — an assistant hands her some cards with the questions on them — are you nervous, babe? 
— not at all, i actually think i’m gonna crush you — jungkook responds. 
— confident much? — yn asks. 
— dude, come on, let’s go, i’m ready. 
video cuts abruptly to the intro, showing a few pictures of the couple and jungkook’s seven playing in the back. 
question no.1 for jungkook: how did you first meet? 
— it was at a party in L.A. — jungkook replies — june 28th, 2017. she was wearing a black dress and her favorite manolo heels because she told me that the same night, also her purse from a special chanel collection because she told me it gave her luck. 
— it definitely did, baby — yn couldn’t stop smiling — it made me met you, so bless the chanel bag. so, answer’s correct! 
— ever since that night i fell in love and my band members were sick of me talking about her. 
— just want to say that it took him two months to ask me on a date — yn laughs — like i literally said no to a few guys in those two months because i was waiting for him to ask me out and when he did i just told him “finally, bro.” 
— you guys don’t understand, she was and still is too pretty for me — jungkook whined, making yn laugh — i thought she was gonna say no and also tell me that she doesn’t date ugly guys? 
— weren’t you literally like on the top 5 of the hottest guys of the world? — yn asks him and he stops. 
— i think i was? i don’t remember. 
— of course you don’t, darling. next question. 
jungkook: 1 
yn: 0
question no.2 for yn: who initiated the first kiss? 
— oh! oh! this one’s good — yn says — i did! and it was a mess.
— no, you didn’t — jungkook tells her. 
— oh, yes, i did because you were shaking when you grabbed my face and you literally froze so i was like “well, let ME do this” and then i was the one to grab your face and kiss you — yn points at him. 
— okay, fine, i did froze but you tasted like fish — jungkook starts — and although i love fish, tasting it from someone else’s mouth isn’t that delicious. 
— you had just taken me out to eat sushi! what were you expecting? — yn asks him — besides, you tasted like banana because you had to eat your banana dessert of course. 
— guys, if you ever go out on a date and you think you’re gonna kiss — jungkook looks at the camera — do not take them to eat fish or pasta because else they’ll get pesto on their teeth or their breath will smell like fish. 
— oh, right — yn laughs  — in one of our dates you got pesto on your teeth. 
— stop, i don’t wanna remember how you had to get me a tooth pick cause i couldn’t get it out — jungkook rolls his eyes and yn keeps on laughing at him — if your girl gets you a tooth pick, marry her, that’s what i’m gonna do in a few months — he winks at the camera and laughs at yn blushing. 
jungkook: 1
yn: 1
question no.3: which songs did jungkook write about yn? 
— now this is a good one because you always get confused — jungkook laughs — which songs did i write about you? 
— still with you, dimple, love maze, home, seven the explicit and clean version — yn winks at the camera. 
— babe! — jungkook blushes and giggles.
— oh, so you can be no.1 on billboard, mind you the explicit version but your girlfriend can’t talk about it? 
— don’t get off topic, finish the list — jungkook laughs again — and you’re my fiancée, not girlfriend. 
— okay, fine — yn moves on her seat — your part in my universe, dna, paradise, best of me, my you and that’s it. 
— WRONG! — jungkook yells at her and stands up from his seat to jump and laugh at her — you’re a loser! 
— jungkook, what? i got them all correct! shut up! 
— you forgot the one i have performed the most! — jungkook stands in front of the camera — vogue subscribers, my wife doesn’t love me. 
— oh my god! — yn yells — i forgot euphoria and jesus christ, jungkook, sit down now, stop being dramatic. 
— how dare you forget the amazing and unforgettable euphoria? 
— i’m sorry, my love, please forgive me for i have made an awful mistake — yn holds his hand. 
— i shall forgive you. 
— thank you, my king. 
— i love you — jungkook kisses her hand and doesn’t let go of it — but i’ll never forget this. 
jungkook: 1
yn: 1 
question no.4: what are the top 3 celeb crushes of yn? 
— this one’s so easy — jungkook says — it’s matthew mcconaughey, chris evans and bradley cooper but as his character in the hangover. 
— wrong — yn laughs. 
— yn, you know i’m not wrong, those are your top 3. 
— babe, you’re a celebrity too, you’re my no.1. 
— don’t lie, yn, i’m not your celeb crush. 
— yup, you’re right — yn gives up — he got the answer right, whatever, next question. 
jungkook: 2
yn: 1
question no.5: when jungkook first started as an artist, what did he do to calm his nerves when he performed? 
— I PRAYED — jungkook yells before yn can say her answer — I PRAYED AND I PRAYED. 
— he didn’t — yn looks at the camera with a serious expression. 
— YES, I DID — jungkook sits back on his seat — I DID. i did. 
— can you shut up now? — yn asks him — he used to- — yn gets cut off. 
— PRAY. HE USED TO PRAY. — jungkook yells again and all yn does is stand up from her seat and put her hand on jungkook’s mouth. 
— he’s licking my hand right now but i couldn’t care less — yn still had a serious expression — he used to touch his bandmates’ butts and when they would question him he’d say “nothing better than your butts, you guys!” 
— she’s wrong — jungkook says. 
— jungkook, ew, you left my hand freaking wet — yn wipes her hand on jungkook’s shirt — and yes, i’m right, you can call up jimin and he’ll tell you i’m right. 
jungkook: 2 
yn: 2 
question no.6: yn has a scar and has had a broken arm, how did both happen? 
— on her chin — jungkook replies fastly. yn nods and lifts her head to show up her chin. — that’s like the only one from an ugly accident the other ones are just her being silly cause she has some scars, blame of our cats when she tries to shower them and another one from when she was trying to make some chicken nuggets on the air fryer last month and she burned herself.
— he’s correct. 
— the broken arm… she told me she was playing outside when she was in kindergarten and she fell and broke her arm, she also told me the school didn’t call her parents right away and waited until her grandma picked her up from school but she took her to the hospital right away. sadly, they didn’t sue the school because they’re good people, the teachers weren’t. 
— that story is also correct. 
— ugh, so tiring being the best boyfriend/future husband out there — jungkook sighs. 
jungkook: 3
yn: 2 
question no.7: how many tattoos does jungkook have? which one was for yn? 
— jesus christ — yn says — i kid you not, jungkook doesn’t even know how many he has himself. 
— i don’t know the total number but i do have a close number, if she reaches it she’ll get the answer right. 
— fine, uhm, the eye he had before was my eye but i told him to cover it because it was done really bad like the eyelashes and the color were a mess but there are other ones about me, the thunderbolts and the flower on your elbow, right? 
— yes — he nods with a smile. 
— and i think, you have a total of 21? 22? with the new seven tattoo behind your ear i think so, yeah. 
— she’s not close in the number but she’s right about the tattoos about her — he smiles at her. 
jungkook: 3
yn: 3 
question no.8: what are yn’s favorite hobbies? 
— reading, learning languages and trying out new restaurants everywhere she goes. 
— that is correct. 
— she’s currently reading beach read but her favorite book is the portrait of dorian gray because my girl is into classics but they have to be a little gay; she speaks 4 languages those being english, italian, korean of course and french. the latest new restaurant she went was momofuko ko here in new york and she loved it.  
— i love you — yn couldn’t stop smiling as she got close to jungkook to give him a little kiss.
— i love you more — he said, after kissing her back. 
jungkook: 4 
yn: 3 
question no. 9: what is jungkook’s pet peeve? 
— damn, he has a lot — yn laughs — but i can name a few. 
— i don’t have a lot! 
— oh yeah? — yn asks and then turns at the camera — jungkook can’t eat if he notices people being loud while chewing but he is the loudest chew-er ever, he gets mad if whoever is driving doesn’t know how to park and oh! he despises when people walk slow but he had to be patient with me because i am a slow walker. 
— she’s really slow but since i love her i can be patient with her. 
— thank you, means a lot. 
jungkook: 4
yn: 4 
question no.10 (final question, decides the winner): if yn hadn’t been a model, what would’ve she been? 
— oh, my girl’s born to shine — jungkook holds her hand — because she wanted to be a UN ambassador when she was young because she loved learning languages. 
— oh my god, i did! — yn intertwines her fingers with jungkook’s — but i don’t even remember telling him about this. 
— you said that on an interview but you also said that to me when we were on one of our first dates — he smiles at her. 
— i did? 
— you said you saw it on tv — jungkook nods — and that you wanted to travel the world like them. but now you travel around the world as a model, either way you were gonna be successful. 
— reached full success now that i’m marrying you. — yn kisses him — i guess you won. 
the interviewer behind the camera asked them if they wanted to say anything else before finishing the video.
— my soon-to-be husband has released a song called seven, not that it needs promotion because the song's killing it but if you haven't listened to it you should, the song saves lives.
— yeah, i released a song, i wrote it and it was just for her — jungkook smiles — my girl is also releasing her own clothing line so make sure to check that out too — jungkook points at the camera — and before we finish i want to say i won, yn lost — jungkook looks at the camera with a serious expression — vogue subscribers, i am here to tell you again that yn is a loser and i will write on my wedding vows to always call her a loser until death do us apart. 
yn hits him on his arm and jungkook giggles.
— i hate you, jungkook. 
— i love you too, my sweetie cutie pie, come here.
jungkook brings her in for another kiss.
— thank you, vogue! see you next time — jungkook says while squishing yn's cheek with his own cheek.
— save me — yn mouths.
and the video finishes.
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oatmilk-vampire · 3 months
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Birthday Blues
Read part 2 here.
Steve hates his birthday.
He knows he may not be the only one who gets "birthday blues" but he feels like it's a lot deeper than just the blues.
When he got closer with Eddie and learned of his own shitty upbringing, he thought it'd be a bonding moment for them. Eddie has to hate his birthday too, right?
Wrong.
Despite Eddie’s mom dying when he was only six, and Eddie’s dad being a deadbeat, leaving Eddie on his own before Uncle Wayne took him in, Eddie loved his birthday.
The Munsons may not have been rich but Wayne always did his best to provide Eddie with new(er) clothes, or dice, or guitar picks. A new album or poster for his bedroom walls. Maybe even his favorite food at the diner--something they didn't do often as they usually survived on box cereal and spaghetti-Os.
And when Al Munson finally rolled into town conveniently around his only child's birthday, well he'd give the sort of shitty, low-commitment gift only a father could give.
And Eddie looked forward to it all the same. One or two shitty presents in six years is better than none when it comes to his father. He'd take what he could get.
So, when Eddie's birthday comes and goes and Steve gets invited to his and Wayne's get together with the kids, and then a later party with the members of Corroded Coffin--well of course Steve goes. And he showers Eddie with love and meaningful but still kinda pricey presents, because he can. And he wants to. Despite the merciless teasing he endures. The look on Eddie's face makes Steve feel like he's the one that got the greatest gift of all.
This, of course, all falls apart when Eddie points out Steve's own birthday must be coming up, and he's right. And because he has no tact he announces in front of everyone who realizes in horror that they've gone years of knowing Steve and celebrating his birthday exactly zero times.
Steve's equally horrified now because now everyone is tripping over their feet desperately trying to make it up to him with cakes and ice cream and movies and handmade cards and weird action figures Eddie probably would have liked better.
It's only after Steve gracelessly accepts all of their gift-giving, and fends off at least three panic attacks and two migraines that he has to put on his bitch voice and scream that the only thing he wants for his birthday is to be left alone.
And like usual, the kids do not listen.
Until Eddie steps in. He makes them go, Robin too, even if she is pissed about it. But they go when Eddie assures them that Steve probably just feels a little overwhelmed right now and needs some space.
He's close to leaving too, knowing he may have made a mistake and should probably get out of his hair... But then Steve starts crying and Eddie has to stay.
It's not loud or ugly, just these little, tiny pitiful things like Steve is trying his damnest to not cry. Like the act of tears falling would kill him.
Eddie cautiously slides next to his shaking form on the couch, careful not to jostle him too much.
He bites his lip as he experiments with placing a hand on Steve's shoulder.
Steve tenses under his touch until Eddie speaks,
"Stevie, I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. None of us did."
His parents were hardly around. Never gave him practical toys he wanted, just whatever they thought a boy should have to shape him into a "proper young man", if they thought he needed toys at all. No parties. Ever. He briefly wanted to throw ragers when he realized he was old enough and his parents wouldn't be home, they never were, but those made him feel even worse so he got used to spending the day like any other. All alone in a big, empty house. Not a home.
Eddie continues to rub soothing circles into Steve's back as he lets it all out, explaining his woes as best he can through a sore throat and runny nose. Eventually he pulls Steve into a proper hug-turned-cuddle until his breathing steadies and he isn't shaking anymore.
"I'm sorry." Eddie holds his breath, hoping it doesn’t trigger another panic attack.
"No--don’t be. Thank you."
"For what? Making you cry?"
"For caring enough to bring it up, even if it was a lot. But mostly for being here, after. Just..."
Steve didn't have to finish his sentence. Eddie knew what he was trying to say.
Thank you for staying. Thank you for holding me. Thank you for loving me.
"Always, Stevie. I'll always be here for you."
Steve squeezes him, and Eddie squeezes back once, twice.
He doesn't say it, but Steve understands.
Happy Birthday... I love you.
746 notes · View notes
churipu · 3 months
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( OO2 ) ★ dude (romantically) , gojo satoru
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featuring. gojo satoru x reader
warnings. cursing, 2006 highschool era, one sided enemies to lovers (alias u hate him bcs of "reasons", and u think he hates him too), gojo being such a fucking tease i love hate him so much, a lot of cringe and weird pet names from gojo bcs he's kind of a little shit, you being mean to him and you make him sad (but you'll make up dwdw, i don't need angst rn), um...kissing (yhyh u guys kissed, so what >:() // wc: 4.0k
ENTRY ( OO2 ) OF THE "INTO THE IPINVERSE" MILESTONE
"i hate you." "say that again?"
tags: @sad-darksoul, @sweeneyblue1, @idkuluka, @colorful-happy-shit
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there are a lot of moments that you hate in life, but with all due respect, meeting gojo satoru has got to be at the top of your fucking list.
white hair, blue eyes deeper than the ocean. god, why does he have to be so pretty? why couldn't he be born with no hair and no eyes at all? because that, that would make it easier to hate him completely — yes, you're implying that he's physically attractive.
"hey, apple pie," gojo sings out, slinging an arm over your shoulder, "i missed you."
you pushed him away harshly, "don't call me that, gojo. and i don't fucking miss you," a strained whine escaped his throat as he feel the distance in between you both widen at your push.
"come on, sugar bear."
"jesus christ, stop calling me those fucking nicknames." you seethe out at him, standing up to walk away — escaping this hell, escaping gojo satoru and whatever tricks he had up in his sleeve.
"i know you like them," gojo sings out, skipping to catch up with you. shoving both of his hands inside his pockets, "come on, annoyed acrylic nail."
you stopped for a bit, amazed at the nickname. so amazed that you almost actually pulled out a laugh card at him — god, he's insufferable, "what the fuck was that nickname?"
"you kiss your mother with that mouth?" gojo asks, leaning down a bit to put his ugly face up close to yours. frankly, it's frustrating because he's an absolute beauty, what a prick.
"my mother's dead."
gojo widened his eyes a tad bit, "my god — pumpkin, it was just a saying." he sighs, scratching his nape awkwardly, "sorry for your loss."
you rolled your eyes, continuing your aimless walk. the sole point of this walk was to avoid the male, yet here he was, walking alongside you. silently. as you turned corners after corners, he trailed behind you, turning the same corners after corners.
"can you," i look at him, "leave me alone? why the hell are you following me?"
gojo shrugs, "no reason. can't i do that now?" you shook your head, "and why not?"
"this is — stalking. an act of following me around, i feel intimidated. do you want me to file a report, huh? huh?" gojo chuckles at your ramble, finding you quite adorable; in his eyes, you were like this small creature, trying to be intimidating.
"definitely not." he chuckled, "come on, chatterbox. you should let me take you out sometimes, what d'ya' think? sounds good?"
"no. just — don't talk to me, don't look at me, don't even breathe the same air as i am," you muttered out, flipping your middle finger at the male out of annoyance making him guffaw.
his slender fingers grabbed your hand, pushing it down gently, "are you implying that i should die?" his voice came out cheeky and teasing.
"yes."
he rolled his eyes, "you're gonna miss me when i do actually die, bet you'll cry and say y'miss me." the male laid his hand on top of your head — patting it lightly, "come on, bonbon. let me take you out, for food, for smoothies, for desserts. anything you want, i'll give it to you."
you heaved out a sigh, "gojo, no — just, no. and leave me alone."
the male eyes you, "you hang out just fine with suguru. all sunshine and rainbows, why d' you not give me the same treatment, huh?" he questions, almost offended at the thought of both you and suguru laughing and joking in front of him.
"'cause you're not him, obviously."
gojo furrowed his brows, expression filled with frustration, "what does that even mean? what's so different about suguru and i? he's a good guy, but 'm a good guy too. right?" he asks, voice low and meek.
"just — shut up, alright? leave me alone."
this time, the male complied; refusing to trail your figure as you disappeared around the corner. his eyes following you until you were gone, chewing on his lip in annoyance.
he didn't understand you, in his eyes you were like a lost cause. and it perturbed him, his peace, his life. the male is dying to know whatever the hell he'd done wrong to make you hate him so much, whether it being his constant nickname for you or was it because of the fact that he's always there to make fun of you?
gojo wouldn't be this bothered if you were like this to everyone. however — the fact is that you're only like this to him. and why? he didn't know.
and he hates it.
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very helpful google.
the teen boy threw his head back, sighing out loudly — a few hours since that conversation with you and he still hasn't been able to get you out of his mind.
"what'cha doing?" a shadow peered over him, the white haired male fluttered his eyes open slowly; the afternoon sun gracing his face as he tries to make out who the person above him was.
"nothing," he muffled out, looking to the side — geto chuckled, jumping over the male's head before taking a seat next to him, "did you just jump over my head?"
"mhm," geto hums, "so? is it about y/n?"
gojo looks at his friend, "was it that obvious?" geto chuckled, nodding his head mutely, "try to think about it — as far as we've known each other, what the hell have i ever done wrong to them? i'm so lost."
"who knows? maybe they like you."
gojo rolled his eyes, "who in their right mind, would act like that to the person they like? that's just stupid." geto chuckled.
"people like y/n obviously."
the white haired male huffs out in defeat, "is it because of the weird nicknames? in my opinion, they're really cute. i mean — pumpkin, sugar bear, apple pie? you'd like to call your partner that too, right?" he babbles out, still in trance, wondering what he ever did wrong to you.
geto spared a glance at his friend, "no, that's stupid. it's pretty cringe," he honestly informed.
gojo's jaw tightened in response as he stared at his friend in betrayal, his lips parted as he wanted to deliver something — but the blue eyed male slowly shuts his mouth, pondering for a bit before delivering his comment, "okay, you're partly right. but i enjoy calling them that. they're cute, and my nicknames are cute." he pouted, his glasses slipping down a bit.
"annoyed acrylic nail? really? you can do better than that, satoru."
gojo's head snapped towards geto, "how'd you know about that one?" he narrowed his eyes.
"y/n, who else?"
"traitor. and mind you, i got that from a quiz i was playing on the internet."
geto tittered out in pure amusement, "they were just telling me about what happened," he explained, "and boy, was it interesting to say the least."
"what'd they say about me?" gojo asks, his voice soft. almost scared to question his friend, scared to hear about how you'd describe him — despite being this, "calm", "coolheaded" man he portrays, when it comes to you, it felt like judgement day.
"oh, nothing much," geto uttered out calmly, "how they can't stand you sometimes and how you maunder out the oddest nicknames on earth — oh, and how they find you physically attractive." geto finds himself whispering the last part.
geto was one to say the truth about these kind of things. except, he's now being a little cupid, alias . . . you never told geto that gojo is physically attractive. but the first two comments were the absolute truth.
"they did?" how cute.
geto nods his head mutely, "maybe you should go meet them, they were pretty intent on describing you as quote unquote, the most attractive boy they have ever met," the lie rolled over his tongue smoothly that gojo couldn't help but to grin widely.
"tell me about it, suguru. please, please?"
geto was most delighted to do so. the male enjoying this banter more than anything — if he wanted one result, it was to get you and gojo together. frankly, he finds it quite the mediocrity that you and gojo aren't in an established relationship as of now.
"they were saying how you have these pretty blue eyes that they'd love to look at every hour," geto started, "and how they actually don't mind some of your nicknames — like, sugar bear. they find it endearing."
little bastard. gojo was smiling like a fool right now, his long legs crossed happily as he sighed out in content, "i fucking knew it."
"well, what're you waiting for?"
gojo hops up, peering down at geto who was still seated, "i owe you one, suguru," geto chuckled, shaking his head.
oh, he owed me more than one. geto thinks to himself, waving his friend goodbye.
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"hey, sugar bear." gojo confidently approached you, crossing his arms with a knowing smirk on his face, "i missed you."
groaning out in response, you covered your ears with the palm of your hands; not wanting to engage in the conversation right as it started. gojo chuckles softly, circling his fingers around your wrists, pulling them away from your ears, "come on, why're you always so mean to me?"
"you get on my fucking nerves. asswipe." you muttered out, pulling your wrists away, "and don't touch me."
gojo winced, "ouch. so, heard from someone that you called me attractive, huh?" his eyebrows danced up and down in delight, as if he was mocking you.
you arched your brow in confusion, because for all you know. one, you never said that to anyone. two, even if you did find him attractive, you didn't remember ever telling that to just anyone — hell, you don't remember telling anyone about it either.
"excuse you?" gojo gave you a lop-sided grin.
"so? why're you keeping up with the attitude?" he whispers out, shaking his head.
"gojo, what the fuck? who did you hear that from?" you interrogated the male, one of your hand resting on your hips, "whoever the fuck gave you that information is making shit up — no, i don't find you attractive."
the male rolled his eyes at your stubborn demeanor. well, you weren't particularly stubborn; you were partly framed at this point since you don't remember ever saying that to anyone.
"come on, why'd you have to lie to me? it's not like 'm gonna be angry or anything," you sent a sharp glare at him, because he is wrong for saying that — you made it clear you never expressed that forbidden thought to anyone. so why was he saying this to you?
"gojo—"
"why do you call suguru by his first name but me by my surname?" gojo cuts you off.
"gojo, listen—"
before you could say anything else, the male confidently hushes you down, yet again cutting your words off. and if there's anything else you hated more than gojo satoru, it's being interrupted while you were talking.
"gojo, respectfully, shut the fuck up." you scowled at him, and that indeed managed to shut him up almost immediately — the glare you had in your eyes signifying that you were actually serious. gojo can't help but to swallow the non-existent lump in his throat at the sight.
"i never said anything about you being attractive, and whoever the fuck said that to you is a pathological liar. this is getting tiring," you slowly, and calmly tell him. way too calmly for his liking, "you're bothering me. so with all due respect, can you like . . . maybe, leave me the fuck alone and never talk to me unless it's mission related. it's fucking annoying."
gojo was silent. he was clueless of how to react, a part of him wanted to get angry, he has so much questions to ask you. but another part of him just wanted to lay down low and walk away. and gojo went after the latter.
his stomach churned as he processed your words silently, his smile dropping, and his gaze softened. the male inhaled sharply before nodding his head, "okay, sorry."
and he turned his heels, slowly walking away out of your sight — you stared at his back, watching him walk further and further.
letting a string of curses escape your lips, you felt the urge to reach out to the male. call out to his name. say you were sorry and how you didn't mean that — god, sometimes you think it was you that should respectfully shut the fuck up.
" . . . goj—" you shook your head, deciding to just stay silent for now. for now.
this wasn't the first time you've told him off; and he always comes back the next day, so gojo would probably be the same old him tomorrow, right?
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wrong.
gojo was dead set on what he was doing, avoiding you. and damn, he was pretty good at it — that it pisses you off. because why isn't he calling you those weird nicknames? why isn't he trailing after you anymore? why isn't he talking to you? why isn't he batting an eyelash at you? one week and still going strong.
"heartbreak problems?" geto appears beside you, taking a seat next to you, whistling out loudly, "over satoru? that's a first."
you wanted to retort back to the male, but honestly, there isn't any point to it. so you actually bobbed your head, "guess so," you muttered out lowly, balling your fists.
"what happened?"
his question made you side eye him, you were pretty sure gojo would've told him by now — after all, they're quite the pair at school. so this was an honest surprise, "shit happened. i said things that i obviously didn't mean, and now i'm suffering the consequences of my own actions, fairly enough, it fucking sucks."
"so, you're openly admitting to me that you do like him?" geto questioned softly, his eyes traveling to the ceiling of the classroom, "satoru? the one you shit-talk about every single day?"
you grunted, "jus' because i shit-talk him. doesn't mean i hate him," geto blinked feverishly before laughing out, "the hell are you laughing at, asswipe?"
"i told him you found him attractive. but i guess things didn't go as i expected," geto spouts out the truth, his laugh dying down slowly into a small smile, "what did'ya say to him?"
"thought you'd know by now, and that was you? fuck." you murmur out, "i told him to leave me alone and never talk to me unless it's mission related. i said it was annoying— that he was annoying."
geto hums out, "why're you always so angry towards him anyways?"
good question. why?
"that's . . . none of your concern, suguru." you ended up shutting down his question, chewing your lips in pure annoyance.
the male raises his hands up, "right. it's not mine — but it is satoru's, you should talk to him," he advices, "he's been miserable, trust me."
"he looks like he's doing fine, and doesn't he like . . . hate me?" geto raises a brow in disbelief, wondering if you were just plain dumb or too oblivious — or both. the male shakes his head, "oh. i thought he would by now."
"y'think he would do all that thing to you when he hates you?"
"well, it's him so it wouldn't be surprising. really." you chuckled out hoarsely, "and are you really giving me advice right now? because i can't fucking believe i'm actually getting an advice from you out of all people."
"that offended me." he smiled.
"well, sorry. i've never taken you for the advice giver type of person, so? is it really my fault?" you questioned, making the male roll his eyes in response.
"you have a man to chase, why are you still talking to me?"
right. you did, "bye suguru, i owe you one."
geto sighs out, remembering the same words that gojo had said to him a week before — and how the tables have turned. he was thoroughly enjoying this all.
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"gojo."
the male stopped when heard your voice. your sweet, loving voice. oh how he missed it — your voice, your glare, you. finally sparing his first glance at you after a week.
it was hard. he's miserable. he wanted to approach you, he wanted to call you the nicknames he'd searched on google before morning comes, he wanted to talk to you even if it ended up on you scolding him with very nice words, he wanted to see you. gojo just wanted to see you.
the white haired male has never felt so miserable in his life. this was the farthest he has ever been from you, and it was honestly killing him inside.
"what?" he asks, wondering if he had done yet again, something to make you approach him first like such. because one thing he was confident in is that, you, y/n l/n, would never approach him for anything besides missions or . . . anger, "what did i do wrong this time? i didn't talk to you like you told me to. so?"
"you're fucking unbearable." you muttered out, fists balling tightly — very much angry at him, and at yourself.
gojo raises a brow, "i'm unbearable? what makes you think you can come up to me and tell me that?" he asks you, his voice soft, and a ghast of his blue eyes reflecting behind the dark lenses of his glasses.
"god, i hate you so much."
no, no, no. it wasn't supposed to go this way, you weren't supposed to say that you hated him — and the way gojo furrowed his brows at your statement made your heart drop. why couldn't you just mutter out the word "sorry" and everything would be back to normal.
when people tell you that, "sorry", "thank you", and "please" are the hardest words to say. you didn't take it literally — but now that you were in a position to say one of them, you could finally agree on it. why was it so hard to mutter out a five letter word?
"okay, you made it clear last week. what else do y'want me to say?" he muffled out lightly.
"i hate you." you repeated, "so fucking much."
gojo shakes his head, prompting to ignore you. he turned his heels and began to step away from you. he didn't need anymore hurtful words from you; from someone he deeply has feelings for, "don't fucking walk away," he heard you speak.
"don't . . . walk away." your voice dropped down a tone, "please."
the male hesitated, but he stopped walking in the end. gojo had only stepped away a few times and he couldn't fucking stand it, the way you called out to him — lord, if this hasn't been so serious. he swore he would be running to you right now, how he wanted to have you in his arms right now, even if it ended up with you pushing him away. he would take the chance.
it was better than having to ignore you like this.
"what?" he breathes out again, this time a little curious to what you had to say.
you blinked, parting your lips to say something, but nothing would come out. a few seconds passed, and your lips are still parted. and you were starting to grow desperate, desperate to say something — anything at this point. anything to make the male stay, to stop him from walking away.
"y/n . . . i don't have time for this." he mutters out, trying to keep his act up, even if he was fighting back the urge to just drop everything and run to you.
"no, wait. gojo— satoru." it took one specific word to roll over your tongue, and his heart was racing rapidly. his cerulean eyes intently looking at you from behind the dark lenses, "please, i . . . i'm sorry. i'm so sorry, so please don't walk away from me. don't do that again."
gojo felt his heart began to pound. the male stood there, his breathing growing rapid, "i didn't mean what i said to you — it was my fault. i'm fucking miserable, satoru. i don't know what to do," you tell him, voice lacing in desperateness, "i fucking hate you for this. i swear to god, it's disgusting . . . the feelings. i've never felt like this before and i hate it. i think about you all damn time, i hate you because why the fuck am i feeling like this? i can't stop, satoru."
the male parted his lips to respond, but you cut him off, continuing your words. groggily fiddling with your uniform, brows furrowed, eyes glassy, you continued, "so don't fucking walk away from me. don't fucking ignore me, please."
it took gojo no time to stride over to you, "fuck. do you know how fucking miserable i was for one. whole. week? do you think i wanted to ignore you? to not look at you?" his large hands cupped both side of your face, "i was fucking miserable, y/n. i just wanted you to know how much i fucking missed you. one day," he raises up a finger, "one day felt like a whole year, i can't stand it much longer. so, please — don't push me away anymore."
you look up at him, lips slightly parted, "i hate you."
gojo tilted your face up to him, "say that again?"
his fingers traveled down, brushing the skin of your neck vividly. even with his glasses on, you could see his eyes perfectly — and how they gleamed brightly. gojo smiles lightly, using his other hand to grab your right hand, placing your palm on top of his chest. where his heart was. the constant rapid thuds that you could feel against his chest made your heart flutter.
"god, i fucking love you," he breathes out, drawing your face towards his, his lips inclining towards yours — and your mouths fell together, a few seconds passed and gojo pulled back slightly, his lips parted, "i fucking love you, y/n," he whispers softly, capturing your lips into another kiss.
the hand you had on his chest lightly crumpled against his uniform, holding the male in place as you yearned more of the taste of his lips. it was vague, but you could taste strawberries — and . . . cream cheese. pulling away, you stared at him, "dude."
gojo arches a brow, etching your fingers off of his uniform. lacing them together with his — like a perfect puzzle piece, it was like his hand was meant for yours, and yours for his, "what did you say?"
clearing your throat, you said, "dude, but romantically."
the male chuckles, "you ruined our kiss and our moment, for that?" he pressed a kiss onto the tip of your nose, maintaining eye contact, "d'you know how long i've been wanting to do that? to kiss you?"
you shook your head, "no, but did you eat something with strawberries? and cream cheese? i could taste it."
gojo blinks, "oh, yeah. i had some daifuku," he replies, scratching his nape sheepishly, "why did you have to bring that up now, couldn't it wait until later?"
"dude." he looks at you in disbelief.
"but romantically, again." you added, and gojo smiles, "i can't help it — i don't know what to say."
"i do," he pressed a kiss into the hollow of your forehead, "date me. i promise i'll treat you well. i won't call you those nicknames anymore, just — i just need you to be close to me."
"what if i said no?"
"after that kiss?" he pulls away from you.
"kidding, dude."
the male whines, "stop calling me dude," he said, "can't you call me something else? baby? honey? darling? cutie? handsome? none of that?" he asks out.
"dude is pretty romantic." you rolled your eyes, "do you ever hear me calling anyone else with dude?"
he shook his head, "you never call anyone with a nickname anyways." gojo grumbled under his breath, looking away, "fine, what do you prefer? i don't do well with — nicknames."
"i like the sound of baby, or handsome. i am handsome, right? right?" you rolled your eyes, but gave out a subtle nod, "i knew it, you did find me attractive after all."
"shut up or i'm sticking with dude."
"no," he brushes his lips against your cheek, "i'm baby now. and you — you're sugar bear, pumpkin, apple pie, annoyed acrylic nail, and more to come."
"didn't you say you won't call me those nicknames anymore?" you questioned him with a light smile.
"uh . . . no, you heard wrong."
"okay, dude." you chuckled.
"y/n!" he whines.
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
907 notes · View notes
herseraphwings · 4 months
Text
18+ A Glimpse Into The Most Intense Sexual Encounter Of Your Lifetime😈💦🍆🍑
It's been months & I had to step away from Tumblr to focus on business! I'm sorry to those who took the poll and didn't get the readings! Here is a steamy pick a card to make up for it. Hopefully I can contribute more pick a pile's to this side of Tumblr more consistently now!
Copyright 2024 © Tellot Tarot
All original works posted on this platform are copyrighted. Unauthorized use or reproduction without permission is prohibited. This pick a pile/image/card is meant to give you an idea of what the most steamy and intense sexual encounter of your life will be. This encounter could be at any point! Enjoy!
Minors DNI!!
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✨This will be a creative writing pick a card✨
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 Pile #1
Your Song: Love Is Stronger Than Pride - Sade
Prime Lyric: “I can’t hate you, though I have tried.”
It's a shame this is happening here. 
The cold of the marble countertop against your exposed skin sends quivers up your spine and frissons of blessed goosebumps across the curve of your rear. A warm but equally gentle and rough hand cups your derriere while twin digits grip your jawline. Timeless lips suckle at your needy neck as you draw in unsteady breaths, grasping at the walls to support the arch of your back. Thick, honeyed lust pools lower and lower with the current of your strong but fluttering heart, drawing your thighs together like aching soft magnets. Just a few minutes ago, there was gnashing of teeth and an attempted divergence witnessed by the Gods as a spectacled exchange of bitter thoughts raised like christened knives against your throats. 
It was the supposed last stand. The conclusion of your story, where you're completely, utterly, officially separated.
But as you both faced off on your war-torn battlefront for the last time, you were ambushed. Your armageddon was due to rear its ugly head and place the four horsemen of pride, betrayal, uncertainty, and, sadly enough, money issues on all sides of your connection. But surprisingly, those demons watched from up high. For the Devil always has a trick up its sleeve. This isn't the first time you've launched into battle and escaped bloodied. But it is the first time the warzone has turned sanctuary- nestling you, cuts, bruises, and all to its tempting bosom. 
What better way to fight than to fuck?
Now, your limbs are entangled while you paw at each other, vulnerable and mutilated by past sins in the bathroom of a mutual acquaintance. Hands you caressed and caressed a million lives over now grab you with need. A need for understanding. Atonement. Rehabilitation. A need to strip you even more bare than their painful words could leave you because it's you. It's always been you. You're the one that chips at their inescapable pride. 
You do this to them- challenge them to be better and tear them down to be much worse when they've failed you.
Heady kisses trace down your neck to your collarbone, all the way down, planting seeds of love; another could never hope to see bear tempering fruit like they could, down to where the heat of all you could ever want and need rests eagerly within the cage of your thighs. "
“Open your legs.”, They look up to you and whisper; their voice tickling you with vibratory lust. 
As you part, you feel teasing nips and pecks mark your sensitive skin with seductive swirling licks to echo, shifting deeper to the core of your desire until a pleasant moan escapes you.
You're not sure if you'll leave your tryst hand in hand or even on the same accord, but you at least know one thing. You both can rip profound emotions out of the other- deep from the marrow. Day or night. Spring or fall. You won't worry if that's a good or bad thing for now because as they beckon your climax to greet them at the edge of their greatest weapon against you, the past pain loses its power. 
Every precise movement of their tongue is like perfect jolts of electricity through your body. Fuck they know you so fucking well. 
Their soft lips and hums of pleasure in pleasuring you are where the true power lies. The sensual dance of their fingers strokes at your sweet spot, but the sudden rustle of the door knob snaps you back to reality. Shit! You shouldn't be doing this here. Before you allow sense to overshadow the moment,the heat builds as your moans grow more intense. You're grateful for the ruckus on the other side of the wall. You sense them smirk beneath you and lock eyes with an individual who is determined to pluck at the strings of your desire until they're taught, and muffled screams rain down on them in a frenzied zenith. Passerby be damned. Once they've drunk enough of you, you'll be ready to return the favor with equal vigor. 
This moment is a storm. Just like your love. A great and terrible storm. Strong enough to tear through villages of memories built on the foundations of a long connection. And just like you have weathered many before as enemies and lovers, these moments provide enough energy to brace yourselves for inclement weather. 
The soul beneath you loves you harder as you writhe, faster, stronger until your beautiful climax hits you like a truck. 
It's such a fucking shame this is happening here. 
You see red. Are you back on the battlefield?
The Devil rises slowly to lay a peck at your ear and whispers, "There's a thin line between love and hate."
Notes: 
This person is may come off as moody or too passionate for others. You have been together for a while at the time of this experience.
At the time of your encounter they are struggling with money.
You are separated, but attempt to find common ground at a social event
This may be the direct doing of a friend. 
I don’t subscribe to the concept of twin flames personally, but this person may truly be your twin flame.
Your relationship with them at the time may be so deep that any little act that may harm the other can blow up to extremes because the feelings run too deep. There’s so much passion!
Thank you for allowing me the honor to read/write for you, Pile 1!✨ Follow for more readings like this!
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Pile #2
Your Song: Hours - FKA Twigs
Prime Lyric “ Who’d have thought, I’d be in your mouth, loud and clear?
I once read that the best love stories are the ones that start with two people who can't stand each other.
 At the time, I thought it a stretch of fictitious delusion. Understand me, Rosaline. I've had my fair share of entertainment from the comedic tropes I've watched on my various screens and read in books, but that's because the hands that pressed pen to paper or finger to keyboard behind the scenes knew how to write a good story. 
There is power in prose. 
We can all agree that the prodigal hate fuck always satisfies an audience. But that's not real to me. 
How you eclipse the moonlight of the bedroom window to stand naked before me as the birth of Aphrodite itself is real to me. It's more vivid than any lucid dream or waking hallucination I could conjure in my insanity for you. How you languidly stalk towards the edge of the bed and make prey of me as your supple breasts softly and teasingly bounce is real to me. 
I've never known anyone to be so graceful as they lower themselves to their knees. 
The throbbing ache of anticipation you draw out of me as your hands open the gate of my thighs, and your beautiful face rests at the threshold of me is real to me. That first gasp-inducing sweet lick followed by the sacred scent of your hair penetrating my nostrils is intoxicating. And, the taste of me on your lips as you pause to greet me before you take me to church is so enchantingly real.
Why? Because the most striking and tangible things of this world aren't isolated to what we can experience with the five senses. It's the things that shake us, move us, change us, and stir something profound within us that is true. We don't even have to understand the why at first. 
And oh, how you stir the most primal and obsessive urges within me. 
I raise a quivering hand to caress your crown as you lick, nip, and tease my most erogenous areas, but you smack my hand away in a warning. Your eyes pierce mine, and you remind me that you are untouchable. 
You remain as unattainable as the day I met you. 
In the beginning, that side of you was cruel. You were so severe. So chaste. A person who seemed to constantly move the goalpost as I chased and chased. Our story was an epic on the destructive nature of gravity. I wanted to be your orange moon as your sunlight cast down upon me, but your pull always threatened to consume and scorch me if I dared to neighbor you. Your glares were like ice, and your mouth spat fire at anything that had something to do with me. It must have been something that I said. But I was no child, and neither were you. We cut the bullshit and found the necessary 60 seconds to get clarity. 
Now, we're very clear on one another. Our vision is 20/20, and God, if you aren't magnificent. The noises you make as your tongue continues its assault on me are provocative, eliciting moans from the bottom of my throat while my eyes roll back and my hips writhe beneath you. Vibrations emanate from your lips as you moan in response to how you undo me, slurping and licking at me deeper and faster to build on your high. Your hands grip me tighter, locking onto the soft of my thighs, not because you need to hold me down but because you want to anchor yourself. The sensual masochist in you knows how badly you want to slowly snake your hand down to feel the wet heat of your trembling cunt- but she won't let you. 
It's the idea that someone like me would beg for the opportunity to just lay beneath and watch you as you gave yourself the depraved release you will forever deserve that drives your lust. In these moments, I'm the one lucky fool under your spell who gets to have a taste of you, but only under your rules. 
That is why tonight is extra special because I agreed to let you do everything that you wanted to do to and or on me, and to be honest, your fantasies are not as wild as you think.
As my climax overtakes me, I gaze back down at you and admire your work. 
You may see me as a fool, but I am a victor. 
The same person that insulted me, frowned at me and rejected me is the same person that now in a delicious turn of events
has my cock down their throat. 
Notes: 
This person is someone that may have chased you or made you chase them
You both misunderstood each other and miscommunicated frequently, for some to the point that you couldn’t stand each other. 
Rosaline is the original apple of Romeo’s eye. She made a vow that prevented her from marrying so she is seen as unattainable and the cause of Romeo’s strife before he lays eyes on Juliet.
For some this night of pleasure is after you have a moment of realization and see that you both actually vibe really well.
You may choose to secretly scurry off to get to know each other better, or end up having this night of passion after you deepen your commitment or get married. 
You or this person could be in a situation where one has already promised themselves to someone else, but you both have a last minute moment of truth and choose to secretly give in to your desires without getting caught.
This is a slightly kinky pile
On this night you may be exploring water sports. I see a woman squirting over their partner or their partner asking to watch them squirt or pee into a glass 
I see nipple play
Similar to pile one, there is an edge of not being seen or organizing a secret rendezvous. 
I feel like it’s the more feminine person with the Rosaline energy, they may come off as bitchy or have severe resting bitch face, but the surprise is that they are the more kinky person.
They love your breasts, but get lustful when they see your opening.
Thank you for letting me the honor to read/write for you, Pile 2!✨Follow for more readings like this!
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Your Song: Seventh - BOSCO
Prime Lyric: “Giving you permission as I'm breathing, Finger on the trigger, now we reset, Here to hide, Will we die? No.”
It's such a beautiful day. Your limbs are tangled in mine as we rest peacefully under the shade of a lone tree before the chapel courtyard. Your beautiful head against my chest gently anchors me to the grass as you listen to the rhythm of my heartbeat. I gaze into the blue sky, contemplating the recipe of cool teals, turquoise, and sapphires God chose to bundle the earth. Sometimes, I wonder why God still allows us to roam this beautiful garden of Eden we call our planet. Maybe it knows that after falling so painfully hard, there really is nowhere to go but up. Or, at least in my case, look up. 
 It's so quiet that you can hear the trickle of a nearby stream. As I look around, everything seems so vivid. Each blade of grass and round tree leaf is a more lively green and rustles so clearly against the gentle currents of air caressing our cheeks- that my spirit can't help but reach toward the surface of an all-encompassing consciousness. The sky, the leaves, the air, and the stream are alive- as alive as I am right here with you. I can see it now. Is this what it's like to be high? 
How could I not be after what we just did? Even though the ceremony was intimate, I was nervous that one of our friends or family found it and somehow turned up at the last moment. 
You shift your hand to draw feathered circles on my chest and snap me out of my musings. You look up at me with a mischievously giddy smile and trace me lower and lower until you reach the hem of my pants, pulling teasingly at the elasticity. I arch my brow in surprise, looking for signs of the clergy. It would be a disaster if one were to stumble across us on their holy walk to find you performing the most unholy of acts. My eyes scan the clearing. I gather myself on my forearms and take a peek back. You're also looking around, but those naughty eyes flash with an undercurrent of different intentions. I would have missed it if I hadn't known you so well. 
You want to get caught. 
My quick scan tells me that we're alone. But you're already gripping me, slender fingers wrapped tightly around velvet steel, ready to receive your touch. You stroke me firmly and languidly as the clouds pass by overhead, and my eager tip moistens with salty essence. I won't let you pull too many moans out of me. We don't know who may be listening despite another quick look around. It feels like I'm floating in a blessed eternity as you touch me until the chapel bell rings unexpectedly. We rush to compose ourselves- one more than the other. You giggle as I try to thrust myself back under my pants and hide my shame before we embarrassingly cross paths with someone on our walk back to the car. I don't return the sentiment.
It was a bad idea anyway. If the Universe is alive and God is real, that must have been a warning. A sort of "Congratulations, but do it in private." 
I know when to listen to divine intervention. I won't allow us to suffer judgment because of your lack of self-control. So I will become a mascareri and punish you myself. 
I want you to think you crossed a line during the car ride back. That our perfect day may not be so perfect after all. You got too impulsive- too excited. So you start entertaining regrets. It's a little cruel, but you'll forgive me later. 
A few hours post your voyeuristic episode, we're diving into champagne and wine bottles. You begged me to pop one open in the spirit of celebration, but we both knew you wanted to flood the nerves in your body with libations. But your consumption of liquor is a double-edged sword. 
Three, four, five glasses down and you're swimming. Your cheeks are a luscious plump shade of rose, your skin is warm to the touch, and your feet are too light or maybe too heavy because you stumble across the floor and fall into my arms. I open a window to let the night cool you down. I'm still nursing my first glass, so I trust myself to securely hoist my bride into my arms and lay her tenderly onto the mattress. Your arms lock behind my neck, and I meet the longing in your big, beautiful eyes. You search me for emotion. Anything that would reveal the current truth of my inner world, but I keep my mask on. 
You wanted to give the Universe a show today. So let's give it one. 
I'll tear the clothing off your body so roughly that cool night air will douse your heated skin with prickles of goosebumps. You won't have time to gasp at my movements because I'll already capture your beautiful mouth with my own- my strong body pressing yours into the mattress of our lover's nest. You will squirm in need, but that won't be enough for me. I need you to whimper, to whine, and mold your begging hips so close to mine as I caress slowly, achingly, down toward heaven. I'll cup my hand at the pearly gate and watch your troubled face as you wait what feels like a millennia until you crack from desperation to feel more of me. 
But there is a warning in my eyes you have never seen before. Something that tells you that this is different. It grips you into submission, a sense of fear and excitement battling within. You've never experienced me treat you like anything other than an angel. Until now, I would never have allowed you to fall. But now I truly have you.
 ALL OF YOU. 
Tonight, you will discover that when angels fall, the devil is there to catch them.  
After our week of heavenly sin in our temporary Garden of Eden, we can deal with the backlash that awaits us. 
Notes:
-This is the person you will marry or at least form a deep commitment with.
-At the time of the sexual encounter, you are trying to eagerly move the commitment forward formally, but you're seeking help to try and make it happen.
-Like looking for an officiant or going through pre-marriage counseling.
-However, you are feeling a little confused and lost or at least frustrated at the situation because things are proving to require more work.
-This may be because other parties are trying to but in with their opinion.
-You feel like you are meant to be with this person. Or you could have already done the deed, and need to break it to your friends and family. 
Thank you for letting me the honor to read/write for you, Pile 3!✨ Follow for more readings like this!
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brightjimini · 1 year
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High up in the tower
Xavier Thorpe x reader
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The sirens song reaches y/n later than other students..
Warnings: reader gets hurt and spoilers for ep 8. (Havent really checked the spelling yet.)
word count: 1.2K
masterlist (from this wannabe writer)
A/N: I love Xavier in the show. I love the whole show. But he has a special place in my heart. I actually was supposed to post a Burce Wayne fic today.. but I got distracted by the show. Sooo I had to write something for this character. Let me know you thought!
-
The only thing that was going through my mind was that there was danger. What kind of danger? I didn't know, and the fear that clouded my mind did not allow any time to think rationally. I just had to get out of the school. 
The problem was that my tiny single room was in one of the highest towers at Nevermore. I hurried down the steps as fast as I could. Nothing else mattered to me, I just had to get out. A tiny voice in the back of my head screamed at me that something was wrong. This did not feel natural. But my body did not listen. 
The sounds of screams and footsteps could be heard echoing through the halls. I finally made it downstairs. Another sound reached my ears. A deep shout echoed through the halls of the ground floor. “-you abominations from this earth!” As far as I could see the hall that I was running through was empty and the angry screams came from somewhere by the fountain. 
I just made it past one of the open windows when from the corner of my eye a sudden bright light came closer. The fear I felt was not unnatural anymore and as I put one of my arms up in instinct my body lifted off the ground and I was slammed against the stone wall. 
-
There was a ringing in my head. Everything felt too hot and some places on my body were very painful. Without realizing it I had opened my eyes. It took a while for my eyes to get used to everything and be able to concentrate on something. That something being a boy with long blond hair and pale skin. He was kneeling over me. His mouth was moving but I could not hear what he said. 
My brain was foggy and it felt like every sense was coming in too late. The air smelled burnt and when I felt something pressing against my back I realized it was the hand of the boy. That I still could not recognize. 
Another man's face came into my line of sight. He looked older and had shorter blond hair. At least that is what I thought because there wasn't that much light. My body was picked up off the ground. There was something familiar about the younger boy. His name was on the tip of my tongue. Blue and red lights illuminated his neck and jaw. Before I could come up with his name my eyes closed and everything went silent.
-
The smell of lavender, cheap soap and antiseptic is the first thing I noticed when I slowly started to gain consciousness. With a little bit of effort I opened my eyes. Light streamed into the room from a window at my left. I heard footsteps coming down a hall towards the room I was in. I was in a giant hospital bed. The walls were an ugly light turquoise color. My upper body laid down against surprisingly soft pillows. So that I could clearly see what was happening around me.  The door in the right corner opened. 
“Xavier?” My voice sounded very different than normal. My throat was dry and my voice cracked in the middle of his name. He hurried towards me and sat down on a stool that was next to my bed. My eyes found the source of the lavender smell. A bouquet of lavender was on the plastic table next to get well soon cards, a pot of honey and a black book. 
“You told me the smell calms you down. Everyone sent you something even Wednesday.” 
I smiled at the kindness and  looked back at Xavier, he was wearing his uniform, but without the blue and black striped blazer. Instead he wore a vest on top of it. I looked back at his eyes. He had a worried expression on his face and my smile dropped. 
“What happened?” I asked. That seemed to bring him back out of his thoughts. He reached for a water pitcher and poured some water in a plastic cup and handed it to me. While I was taking a few sips he kinda filled me in on what happened. A crazy man from the past came back from the dead to kill all the outcasts. The sirens had used their song to get everyone out. But because my room was high up in one of the towers it probably reached me a little later. He didn't tell me every detail, but promised he would when I was healed enough. 
Almost my entire right arm was covered in white bandages from the burns. A part of my hair was also burned. I had a concussion and a few other little wounds and bruises. 
Xavier had found me in the hall after the crazy pilgrim was killed by Wednesday. I did not remember that part but I was conscious. I only had images in my head that were blue and red. Sadly Principal Weems was killed. He stopped explaining what happened at that point. 
“I should probably let you rest now, your parents are coming later today. Everyone is going home tomorrow.” He said. “They- The rest of the semester is canceled. After, you know everything..” His shoulders dropped and he leaned his head against the bed. 
It was silent for a while. The only thing I could hear were people passing the room we were in. Carefully I lifted my right arm and stroked his long hair. “Thank you.” I said after a while. The water had helped a little. He softly grabbed my hand and sat up. That is when I noticed the tears in his eyes. 
“I thought you died.” The pain in his voice was clear. I did not know how to respond to that. 
It seemed like he also did not expect one because he said: “I like you- I don't know- maybe even love you. But when I saw you laying there the only thing that was going through my mind was-” He took a deep breath and wiped a few of his tears away. I felt my own eyes water. 
“I was just praying that you werent.” He coughed and his grip on my hand tightened. I didn't even notice the slight pain that went up my arm.  
I was used to trying to lighten painful moments with my dumb humor. So the first thing that came out was. 
“Well i'm glad that I'm not.” smiling at him. Xavier let out a laugh and wiped the rest of his tears away.     
“But- yeah.. I like you too.” My voice suddenly more timid and shy. I had never confessed my feelings for someone. He leaned closer to the bed and pressed a kiss to my hand. And clutched it between both of his hands.
I forgot that we were in a public space for a moment and the door of the room opened. Xavier and I both looked as a nurse with a clipboard walked in. Her eyes went from him to me and again from him to me.
“I told you to call out when she woke up.”            
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bowieandqueen11 · 4 months
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Buggy Falling In Love With You Would Include...
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Request: hi there~ would it be possible to get buggy x reader headcanons of their time growing from friends to lovers? buggy is completely thrown for a loop when it comes to reader because they're polar opposites, but he grows to love how genuinely nice she is. she's able to bring out a more softer side of himself, which terrifies and frustrates him, but eventually buggy learns to accept it.
P.S. good luck on your surgery! i'll be wishing you a speedy recovery!
I genuinely love this clown way too much like Jeff Ward had no right to look as good in this role for real - also thank you so much sweetie!! I'm very nervous right now but getting back into writing such sweet requests is helping :3
Warning: slightly NSFW although nothing explicit, mentions of knives and cannons and slightly strong language!
(I do not own One Piece or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @goodsirs.)
☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°
Look, I love this man, but he is a full on idiot. He would not deal with these emotions well. Perhaps it was because of the thorn Shanks had left in his side that he refused to allow his heart to entrust itself into someone else's hands again: to be left disappointed once again. Perhaps, it was even the deep rooted, long-suffering repressed fear that he would lose you; the life of a pirate was an ugly one, full of bloodshed and tenuous treaties. Of a life lived from moment to moment, of foiled plans and devastating lows. There was no place for kindness, or selflessness, or care. Tenderness. The last time he had left himself concern for another flood his brain, he had been left bawling in front of Gol D. Roger's execution tower. He vowed then, he vowed that he would never allow himself to feel that weakness for another person again.
Tenderness. Yuck. Even the word still made him shiver in his boots.
And then you had to come along, and ruin every. single. one. of his incredibly well thought out plans. He was going to be King of the Pirates. He was going to kill that little Strawhat brat and take back his map to the Grand Line. And he wasn't, most definitely not, going to fall head over heels in love with you.
Speaking of, your entire relationship didn't exactly get off to a great start; during the practice for the Grand Entry of performers into the ring, Buggy was far too busy glancing his eyes sideways to notice where he was walking. He was far, far too busy trying to swipe the dopey look of his usually stony face, replacing it with a melodramatic frown as he tried to figure out, why oh why, his heart was striking his chest in tune to the marching band every time he dared steal a look in your direction. Far, far too busy growing more and more petrified about how stifling a presence you had on the tent as a whole, that this man dead-ass hit the toe of his boot off the striped edge of the ring and fell arse over teakettle into the sand. It would have maybe... *maybe* been a little less mortifying for Buggy if you hadn't rushed over to help him while he was trying to spit out grains of sand and smudged lipstick from his tongue with a disgusted splutter. The absolute derision in his curled fist as he swung his head away from your offering hand was the final blow to his already delicate pride.
You were getting in the way, and it was starting to infuriate the clamorous clown.
As soon as you would enter the tent, every crew member's head would swivel round towards you like five seesawing spotlights. Being so kind and attentive to the different members of the crew and their varying personalities: dreams, fears and wants, it seemed only natural that each member would gravitate towards you. Plus, it was an added bonus dumping their ropes and wonkily written cue cards to instead lumber over to your corner and escape Buggy's rant about the 'brightness of the spotlight being so dark it would make the sun look black!'
Since this man is genuinely such an attention hoe (mood), seeing everyone completely turn their asses to him and ignore every stamp of his foot and seething word from his curled lips would immediately set him firmly on edge. Queue the theatrical man folding his arms and huffing like a steam boat when he watches Cabaji offer you his hand to stop you from falling over some scattered wrist chains still left on the floor after the Buggy Pirates' last village destruction.
Buggy snaps everyone back to work with a brusk yell, the sound of your giggle as another member of the crew shows you how to use the red flares tipping his anger straight over into the abyss. His teeth grind harshly enough to leave a trail of dust behind his feet as he slaps the tent flaps open; he immediately flops down on one of the stacked crates by the entrance, thumping his head onto his folded arms as he tries to calm himself down. He swats everyone that comes his way away, pretending he's busy counting how many knives he has left stored away so he could bury his head into the wood and hope that no one would notice how devastated he looked.
The worst part of it all? Buggy, if he was being truly honest with himself, was unsure if he was so jealous over you stealing the spotlight, or by the way his whole body had bristled seeing you place your fingers so delicately against a palm that wasn't his.
Bless your heart, you make it a point to try and cheer him up the next chance you get, feeling so guilty about the fact that his whole face was nearly as red as his nose for the entire day, and he refused to enter the tent again. Once you're all safely back on the Big Top, you try your damn hardest to try and soften the captain to you a bit: or even better, to try and figure out why he seemed so antagonised by you. It was exceptionally hard: when you waved to him on the deck, Buggy's eyes fell as wide as saucers as he nearly fell to the ground trying to duck down behind Mohji, waddling away behind him like a duck. Or you would try and knock on his quarters' door, only to see an arm... and then a leg... and then the stupid man's grimacing head fly past the port windows and out of his room. One time, as you were heading down to the galley, you swore you heard a gaudy exhale and a sigh of relief come from one of the shaking barrels up by the railings.
This man was a tough shell to crack, but you were determined to finally win the great Pirate Buggy over.
After about three days of constantly trying, you managed to make him yell and nearly jump out of his coat up on the deck; he swivelled round when he felt a soft triple tap on his shoulder, and there you stood: hands tucked nervously behind your back, a kind smile brightening your face as you noticed him gaping at you.
'Good morning, Captain Buggy!', you swing a little from side to side, noticing the thick swallow he gave at the sound of your voice. Did he really despise you so much, that just four simple words could make the bile rise in his throat?
Inside, Buggy was burning. By all the seas, did the sound of your wind-rushing voice make him want to do nothing more than grab onto your face with an clad-iron grip and do nothing but kiss you silly until the saccharine saffron sun dawned. His gloves clenched at his sides, will-power winning out as he threw you a shit-eating grin and raised one leg comically, as if he were about to run over the edge of the ship.
'I'm a little busy right now Y/n. See?' He pointed a finger towards the ocean, and then held them up by his shoulders and shrugged.
'But-', you started, grabbing onto his collar and nearly toppling the man over with how shocked he was. 'I just wanted to ask you about your battle with the Golden Lion Pirates!'
His eyebrows raised, and his head tilted slowly to the side. 'You... you know about that?'
'Of course! That's why I joined your crew! Only a talented and clever pirate could have sailed with Gol D. Roger - that's why I respected you and your crew so much! And don't forget devilishly handsome!'
You... you respected him? Oh no. Oh no no no. This was worse than kindness. Far worse than tenderness. The words fall on short-circuiting ears: the branding pain of your fingers brushing over the bare skin on his wrist as you held tightly onto his sleeve forgotten as his brain worked overtime trying to figure out what you had just said. ...Handsome?
He cocks his head back to you, blinking rhythmically, as if he were a wound up spring toy rather than a man. But he looking at you: really looking at you for the first time. His face softened a little - the cracks finally beginning to show through his gaudy façade. As you reached up on your tippy toes to press a chaste kiss against the skull-and-crossbones lying over his left eyebrow, little could you know that no one had shown Buggy that much care since he was thirteen years old.
Oh noooo. He was falling in love with you, and it terrified him. But damn it all if he doesn't want to feel this flash of lightening strike through every nerve ending in his body every chance he got: if he didn't want to feel his breath stick in the back of his throat at the slightly sticky feel of your lips pulling away from his forehead. If he didn't want to be greedy, and steal away the flushed smile you gave him before scurrying off, hoarding it all for himself.
Buggy comes to practice his new jokes on you every chance he gets after that encounter, the feeling of being near you so addictive it almost swings round from love and back to annoyance again. He stands awkwardly at the swing door of the galley: a nervous shadow creeping around the fringes of your scintillating smile. Everyone on the crew just pretends they can't see him lmao, even when they can hear his impatient 'oh, come onnn' and 'how long does it take to eat a bologna sandwich?', moaning and muttering and spluttering from the corridor. Was it so hard for the poor man to get a minute *coincidentally* alone with you? Considering he had done nothing the last week but try and do the exact opposite oops Buggy I love you but you're a straight up histrionic dumbass-
He literally grabs people by the collar and hurls them out the door like a cannonball if they walk past him too slowly.
When he comes sliding up on the bench beside you, elbow on the table and head resting nonchalantly on his fist like a slipping squid nearly knocking itself into your torso head-first, you can't say you're too surprised by his antics. Bless, he looks so proud of himself for fooling you into thinking he was here so candidly that you can't help but giggle, which turns into rip-roaring laughs once he starts up his routine. Truth is, as he spends hours and hours telling you terrible, cheesy ass jokes, he just wants to hear your laughter. Wants to feel your knee knock against with each shake of your belly his until his whole body jolts. Wants to admire you up close, to mark down in the depths of his mind the way the corners of your eyes crinkle when you're especially happy.
He wants to outline it all in his head: memorise it, lay it out so it covered every inch and crevice and recesses of his vindictive brain. All he wanted in that moment, as you tried to choke back your laughter with a spluttering cough, was to frame the most important map he would ever find: the intricacies of you.
When he slaps his hand down on the table at a particularly rib-tickling crack, and you accidentally bring yours down to settle on top of his glove, he starts so suddenly you're worried he's going to start avoiding you again. And although he stops giggling, and although his face falls to gravely stare at your skin resting on top of the white leather, he surprises you both by twisting his hand so he could grip loosely onto the tips of your fingers. He's so embarrassed when you start knitting your pinky finger between his larger, slender one that he tucks his left hand between his knee and has to turn his head to face the wall, still trying to swallow down his pride and allow himself to indulge in that disgusting word... tenderness again.
One time, while you were pouring over some old maps the crew had stolen from a Marine base a couple of weeks ago, you absentmindedly reached over to where Buggy was sewing up his coat on the sand and began twirling the surprisingly soft strands of his hair between your fingers. Thank goodness the two of you were alone, because the uncomfortable tent that grew between his shuffling thighs, and the gasping splutters that blew out of his mouth mortified the clown to his core.
He was still getting used to all this. Just give him some time. And a whole lot of reassurance.
You're the only other person that Buggy will allow to sit on his make-shift throne. When your Captain had asked you to come help chart out a path to whichever small village you thought was best to steal restock supplies from, you imagined you'd be standing by his armrest like his right hand man does. Surprise surprise to the both of you when you end up nearly glowing, puffs of steam escaping both your ears by how maroon you both turned.
When he had faux-confidently clapped his knees and beckoned you over to him with a wave of his hand, he was only, like, 30% certain you would take him up on his offer. When you slid onto his lap, he was nearly as gobsmacked as you were. He tried, he really did - he tried to hide his curling smile and wonderstruck widening eyes behind your neck, but his warm breath grazing over your collar bone kept making you squirm. Which, of course, with each shove backwards of your hips, and well... your buttocks against his pelvis, he kept having to moan internally and grit his teeth to stop himself ripping off your clothes right there and then.
It really doesn't help that he starts tapping the heel of his boot against the floor as if to expel all of his nervous energy, making his knee bop up constantly against your inseam, making it hard for you to concentrate on anything but holding onto his forearm for dear life to try and settle yourself.
Buggy's own grip on the chair was tight enough to chip off wood when you shakily pulled the crumpled map out of your back pocket, the feeling of the back of your hand brushing innocently against his inner thigh making Buggy throw his head back and close his eye in intense concentration.
Oops, too bad you had to go back since you'd forgotten your compass; wrestling deeper into the pocket, your hand accidentally brushed over the most sensitive Buggy's crotch, making him buck his hips up and nearly sending you flying across the room.
It's when he gently places the side of his head against your cheek and reads almost absentmindedly over your shoulder, despite how hard he was pretending not to be breathlessly glancing at you through his thick lashes intently enough to burn a hole through the hull of the ship that you finally realise.
Oh. He doesn't hate me. He likes me.
His nose bumps against the edge of your Cupid's Bow, and you take a chance. You lean forward, both your breaths frozen as Buggy follows the trail of your lips until he goes almost cross-eyed, finally computing that you had just pressed a sweet kiss on his nose.
For a moment, he's stock still. He just gawks harshly at the inner seam of your bottom lip, as if lost adrift a tumultuous sea of thought. And then when I say this man pounces, I mean he pounces.
All the rest of the crew are too afraid to come in and disturb Buggy about the small three-manned boat encroaching on the horizon, though, because of the absolutely ringing, frantic noises coming out of Buggy's throne room.
Let's just say, although they were incredibly glad you brought out a softer, mushier side of their Captain, they all now had another problem on their hands: his raging protectiveness. Now, not only were they getting yelled at for messing up his entrances, they were getting honked at and prodded with his dismembered hand anytime someone dared to even look at you for a second too long.
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dcxdpdabbles · 7 months
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i don’t know if I’m allowed to ask right now and feel to ignore this but I just really like your shit so here I am :D
anyway
I love the thought of Fanny being the ghost king and the crown not fitting on his head so it falls to his neck line where it hangs off his neck and is either the spikes(idk what the call the pointed bits-) are short enough to see his face or they are thin enough to see though and then when he’s in his human from the crown turns into a black neck tattoo that’s really pretty and stuff!! So imagine this, Danny in Gotham and he’s a singer for Penguin and some rouges or something and he’s irritated so instead of running he continued to sing and it actually sways the course of the fight in favor of his allies while the enemies ears or like bleeding or something as his hair turns white and his eyes go green as the crown shins around his neck and let’s say that his outfit is quite androgynous and nice looking but he’s really pissed because it was a gift and it got damaged or bled on and this starts a rumor that Danny is a meta so the bats and birds go to investigate
Hope you like it and do a little Drabble :)
They hear about the Siren for the first time after a bit of trouble happens to go down in Old Man Rob's. At first, they were a little shocked that anyone would dare give Rob any sort of trouble, seeing as it was a general unwritten role to leave the old man who made clothes for the working girls/boys and for the Gotham Rouges well enough alone.
His work was so well appreciated that the Rouges would even send their minions to outfit them with the standard hire goon outfit. Joker swears by his purple cloth that only Rob could make his men look good.
Old Man Rob made the clothes right out of his home, so anyone who went to him would have a hot cup of tea and soft music from Rob's home country playing in the background. Everyone agreed that Old Man Rob's was welcoming and neutral grounds.
So imagine the uproar when some stupid out-of-city punks attempted to follow some working girls into the house and trash the place. The girls had taken refuge with Old Man Rob after realizing the punks were much more dangerous than they first thought.
When Rob tried to defuse the situation, things turned ugly as one of the men punched the old man to the ground- injuring his back. They had then attempted to take the screaming girls, gone about the house for anything valuable, and smashed everything that wasn't with a bat.
That's when Siren walked in. The androgynous being looked around before throwing themselves onto the men like the snaring mystical creature they earned their name from.
Siren had taken care of the men and had even had them hand-delivered to Penjuin when the supervillain caught wind that the fools were responsible for Rob not being able to complete his latest suit due to his back injury.
One of the working girls had texted her boyfriend, who was employed with Penguin, and that meant the Rouge, with a group of men, had rushed over to help not even ten minutes later.
Once everything was settled, Rob had enough time, as he was being transported to the hospital, to give Siren their outfit as a gift, and Penguin overheard the old man wishing Siren luck on his audition.
After a bit of question, Penguin gave Siren his card and told them to swing by the Iceberg Lounge for an audition if the one they were going to didn't work out.
That was all the Bats were able to gather from the last working girl, who is Jason's informate. Since Siren had no other known sighting, the Bats let them fade into obscurity until rumors of a hot new singer began to feature at the Iceberg Lounge.
Their voice left hundreds of clubgoers memorized, even those who didn't often prefer slow seduction songs when going to the club. The Iceberg does have a more classy feel about it but Siren could make anyone stop for their voice.
Bruce thought it was wise to investigate the meta after rumors that Siren would often help security when someone got too rowdy by singing a tone that could make human ears bleed. So far, there wasn't much information past rumors, and Penguin hadn't made the singer a member of his crime yet, but it was only a matter of time.
No one that powerful could remain neutral with the company they kept.
That's why Dick, Cas, and Jason all dressed to the nines and visited Iceberg Lounge with Brucie Wayne's unlimited credit card. They are treated VIPs- as the Lounge is a legitimate business despite everyone knowing the owner is Penguin- and are seated right before Siren's stage.
The lights drop, and the music tickles to a stop so the live band can get into place. Dick adjusts his cuffs, presses the record button on the hidden video camera on the metal, and leans on his hands to point it to the stage.
They are all wearing earplugs, hoping to stop Siren's powers, but it's better to have someone far away who won't be effect by the sound watching just in case the three get mind-controlled.
The singer who takes the stage is beautiful androgynous in everything from their outfit to their features, but none can deny their beauty of them. They stand in a shimmering black suit resembling a modern king attire, with a half veil dripping from their shoulders. A particular ice crystal snowflake design tattoo circles their neck in a breath-catching upturn of their head.
Once Sirens opens their mouth in the first verse, Cass can understand why the mythical creatures could lure sailors to their water deaths. The voice is as beautiful as the singer, and she can't look away.
She rises with the tempo, falls with the beat, and flouts into the rhythm of Siren's voice. It's not until the singer descends the stage to sing to the lucky few upfront does she realizes she has forgotten why she came here tonight.
Jason carefully presses his foot against her, and she struggles to take her eyes off Siren to look at her bother. His face is relaxed and cocky, like the wealthiest man son can be, but his body language screams worry.
Worry for her.
Shoot, had she allowed herself to fall under Siren's spell?
The singer struts back to the stage, arms raised before slowly lowering on the last long memorizing note, and the lights drop. She clasps politely along with the rest, her heart fluttering.
"That was amazing!" Dick cheers, whistling like a loon. His civilian persona does resemble Brucie the most. "Encore! Encore!"
Siren looks at their table with a bashful smile, and Cass's heart falls. Before she can do anything knowing what that means, the doors to the lounge get blown right off the hinges, and screams erupt through the room.
A rival gang is tearing through the room. Cass hits the ground with her brothers, mentally cursing they can't blow their cover as the thugs quickly round up hostages. One grabs Siren's veil, ripping it right off as the singer tries to run. The action causes them to trip over the stage's long walkway before falling into a table stacked with wine glasses.
She fights to urge to scream when Siren falls. Cass needs to focus on finding a place to change and get control of the situation. Siren could be hurt, they could be-
"You asshole!" The siren screams, standing up and neck tattoo flaring a bright blue. "You ruined my suit!"
The man scoffs, pointing a gun at their head "So what? It couldn't be that expensive for Penguin's little plaything to offered."
"It was a gift!" The siren screams in a sound voice as cold as ice and as unforgiving as death. Cass feels the air freeze over, and suddenly, Siren is signing. But it's not the sweet song from before; now, it's a dead melody that promises death.
She presses herself against the floor more, trying to escape the sound. Her heart is beating so fast that she wonders if she is dosed with Fear Toxin. Cass doubts the others are fairing better as sobs break through the room.
The man holding the gun drops to his knees, screaming and clutching his ears.
Siren remains standing, hair bleeding into white, eyes a blazing green, and his neck tattoo expanding into a crown that seems to cover the lower half of their face. It's a beautiful sight as much as it is terrifying.
Cass can't look away.
Just as quickly as it started, the signing ends when the man falls unconscious and Siren looks human again. They fret over their suit uncaring of the stares from the rest of the club, and make their way to the changing room without a by-your-leave.
Cass is in love.
"We have to report this to B," Jason hisses. "That was Lazaurs Wails."
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neil-gaiman · 11 months
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Hi Neil. You've been my favorite author since I was a child, and last year I got to see you in Eugene, Oregon. Though, I nearly didn't have the chance to go.
The fall before, just a few days before my birthday, I attempted suicide but couldn't go through with it at the last minute. I had been in the store to get what I needed and I saw this truly awful hoodie. Lavender with full body tigers printed all over in black ink. It made me think of my childhood friend who I was still close with. It was ugly but, she would've loved it. I went back to the helium tanks and just stood there almost like I had suddenly forgotten why I was there. I just thought about that hoodie. I ended up buying it with the money I had planned to use for the tools I was going to use to end my life. I got to my car, looked at this thing in my lap, and remembered what I had been there for. I cried and called the hotline, because now I had to live so I could send it to my friend. In that moment, I just wanted to give my friend something that would make her smile more than I wanted to die. And, at that time, it was enough. My 29th birthday a few days later carried this weight of knowing I nearly didn't see it. Last year, I survived to 30 and couldn't help laughing at what felt like absurdity.
When I saw you were coming to Eugene last year, I was so excited. I went alone since I didn't have anyone who was as interested in going. I'm not one for celebrity or anything like that. I had admired you for so long for all the things you created that it felt surreal. You're not just a writer, you're a storyteller. You've created stories using all sorts of different types of media and I've always thought that was amazing. Like a magician. Whether they use a coin or hat or card, they make magic. To me: whether it was a book or a comic or a movie, you made magic.
This is probably a bit long-winded so I apologize for babbling but all of this is for me to tell you something I've wanted to tell you since that day in Eugene. I took so long to say this because I wanted to find a way to tell you how much weight this carried for me. I drove home that night, thinking to myself, "I'm glad I'm still alive." That was the very first time since the attempt and, frankly, in my life that I had ever thought that. I had always lived for other people and their happiness. I survived in part for the same reason. That night, it dawned on me that it was okay to live for my happiness too. Even if it was small. I felt like I had the sun in my chest and it was everything. I wanted you to know what that meant for me. So, thank you. Truly, thank you
Oh, thank you. I'm so glad you bought the hoodie, am so glad you came to see me in Eugene, and am really happy you are here and that you got to be happy. Stick around.
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starry-bi-sky · 4 months
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more clone^2 thoughts
you know who i just remembered ALSO has long hair? Vlad. Vlad Masters. Danny's worst enemy and biggest pain in the ass ever since he sent those vulture ghosts after his fucking dAD. Danny having long hair would make Vlad so inSUFFERABLE. Like look!! Proof that you are much better off as MY son. We have matching hair lengths! Come be my son! I will make you a halfa like me and we will become powerful allies together!
Danny almost chops it off out of spite. He ends up not doing it because he likes his hair long, actually, very much so and he's not growing it out again just because you're crazy! He's attempted to take a pair of scissors to Vlad's hair though -- THAT was a fight that got ugly. Danny's go-to threat whenever he sees him after that is that he's going to chop off vlad's hair when he's not looking - just you watch, Masters. He'll do it. HE'LL DO IT.
And if Danny wasn't keeping it a tight secret, he'd turn around and taunt Vlad about being a) a clone and b) a clone of BRUCE WAYNE. he'd say stuff like:
"How's it feel knowing my parents cloned a man richer than you"
"you're just mad that bruce wayne is more my dad than you'll ever be!"
"it could've been you that my parents accidentally cloned instead of Wayne, but instead you fucked off for twenty years instead!"
but also its a constant question Danny asks himself how he and no one else ever figured it out sooner that he was a clone. He doesn't understand how Vlad of all people didn't realize it when he went to college with the man with his parents and was also stinking rich, before remembering that he doubts Vlad remembers anyone who wasn't his parents in college, and has been a rich, recluse loser this entire time.
its a good thing though, danny's pretty sure vlad would attempt a hit on the man if he found out out of pure jealousy and indignant rage. And then he'd get his ass beat by Batman and his army of children.
All in all, Dany is a pure menace towards Vlad whenever he gets the chance, as is normal, and then Vlad's suffering gets doubled after he makes Ellie - of which she is even worse than Danny because she's the halfa that Danny Is NOt and thus has the powers to break into his house easy peasy and wreck shit. She steals his obsidian black card and goes on a shopping spree. This is a regular occurrence.
(and for anyone who isn't aware - Ellie is the same age as Danny in clone^2 bc i thought it'd be fun)
And then it gets tripled once Damian joins the family and gets caught up to speed on all of Vlad's tomfoolery and whoops, Damian's got better stealth skills than Danny and looks like Ellie has a partner in crime whenever they need to sneak into vlad's house to cause him grief.
Vlad's walls are the first canvas for Damian to test out his new spray paints on once he gets them :)
next up
Wes weston! i love this guy, he's so funny and he definitely knows danny is the Phantom in the clone^2 au. it's not as easy to figure out as it is in canon since its not just a simple colorswap, but perhaps he sees Danny taking off his mask after a daytime fight. and after that he becomes determined to reveal that quiet, strange fenton is the vigilante phantom.
he's putting some real,,, detectiveness? stalkerish? skills to use because catching photos of phantom is not as easy as it is if he were a halfa. He can't just snap a few dozen photos of fenton and phantom and then color compare the two of them either - Phantom wears a mask, and works primarily at night or in evenings, and typically avoids the living during the day. And he doesn't speak to the living either. Wes has to put in some extra work into his investigations and evidence.
He also makes the dumb mistake of cornering Danny in the bathroom one day early on and telling him he knows he's the Phantom -- now that Danny knows that Wes knows, he's going to be even more careful not to get caught. He puts in a little extra work in both Fenton and Phantom - another layer, perhaps a jacket, as Phantom, and baggier pants and boots he never wears as Fenton. His hood stays up in the daytime.
He was already putting in some extra effort to appear creepy and unsettling as Phantom - things like crouching low, tense movements, fluid movements. If he's perched on something he does a kinda-crawl like movement - think a mix between a bear and a gorilla crawl. It's weird, creepy. And he stares. Danny's mastered the art of not needing to blink for long periods of time, so if he sees you and sticks around he stares. It doesn't help that you can't see his eyes that well through his mask - its just two piercing green.
It helps endear him to ghosts and his enemies though - the annoying little human boy is engaging in ghost culture! That's eliciting some form of begrudging respect from his enemies.
And then compare that creepy, almost cryptid-like behavior to Fenton who, while considered a freak, really isn't anything more than just some dorky weirdo with occasional heart problems. He's kinda unsettling - he has those 'stares into soul' eyes - but its leveled by the fact that he's kinda just... dorky. It reads as normal, awkward kid behavior, and then gets disregarded completely as he gets older and it bleeds into 'very chill teenager'. Fenton being Phantom doesn't compute that much.
Paulina: you think Phantom is Fenton? Wes: I don't think, I know he is! I have proof-- Star: Just because they both have black hair doesn't mean they're the same, Wes. That's like saying Paulina and Manson are sisters because they also have black hair.
Wes's attempts to out him as Phantom means that Danny is a little more wary of him than he is in canon, since his vigilante identity isn't an entirely different ghost form its just him, so he has to be careful about where or when he takes off his mask in case Wes is around. Especially during daytime fights.
But other than that he has a lot of time messing with him. Wes is trying to convince his table group at lunch that Fenton = Phantom (again) and Danny just so happens to be within earshot of him and starts making fun of the idea.
"You think I'm Phantom?" and he's got the most disbelieving grin on his face that's only partially convincing. "That's totally bogus, man. The Phantom famously doesn't get along with my parents, why would I be a ghost hunter and not work with them?"
He has this most shit-eating, delighted look in his eyes that Wes knows is pure manic glee at being able to mess with him and get away with it. Wes is going to strangle him.
"Besides, dude, did you forget I have a heart condition? I can't be chasing around ghosts - my heart would give out from all that running and jumping."
Although Danny can get really serious at the flip of a coin if need be - especially with Wes when he gets too pushy about him being Phantom. A notable instance is when Wes cornered him in an empty bathroom to again talk about him being Phantom.
Except Danny, who had been working on a really difficult cold case about the death of a child, and hadn't gotten much sleep in the last 72 hours, plus a plethora of other stuff (like recently acquiring Damian, fighting ghosts, etc), wasn't in the mood to entertain him. It ended with Weston getting pinned to the wall and lowkey threatened by Danny. He apologizes for it afterwards but it's not forgotten.
Additional note: Wes Weston having a crush on Danny Fenton is a hilarious trope to me so Wes absolutely has a crush on Danny and the only one in denial about it is him. Everyone else - except Danny because he's more focused on the fact that Wes knows his identity, and has other things to worry about - knows about it, and everyone chalks up his obsession with Danny as being part of said crush.
Wes' friend: you know usually when you have a crush on someone you normally confess, maybe ask them out, pine from afar....
Wes: i dont--
Wes's friend: not accuse him of being the local ghost-fighting vigilante. Seriously, wes! His parents are ghost hunters!
Wes: i do not have a crush
Wes's friend: and ghosts aren't real! everyone knows that's a lie!
next up
Dan! Or Dante, but i'll call him Dan for the time being. Even if I dislike the name with a passion. Much like Wrath from my Childhood Friends au, Dan here is pretty different from his canon counterpart. Mostly because I wanted to experiment with Dan and different interpretations of him, and I thought; hey, where no better than an au where Danny has no powers?
so, dan? Dan is not a combination of Danny and Vlad's ghost halves -- now, don't get me wrong, danny still ends up under vlad's custody care after the death of his family, but he just doesn't fuse with Vlad's ghost.
So, what happened? What happened is that Vlad convinces a grieving Danny that he should let him make him a halfa (despite the fact that he has no idea how) because the he could go find his family in the ghost zone. Danny is in no mental state for any kind of experiments, but his hope and want to see his family and friends again gets him to agree.
It backfires. Vlad doesn't make Danny a halfa, he just ends up killing him completely. Danny comes back instantly as a ghost however, and enraged over being lied to, betrayed, and murdered, ends up killing Vlad in furious cold blood. He doesn't fuse with his ghost half, there's no ghost half to fuse with.
So a grieving ghost, Danny flees into the ghost zone. And, in this iteration, doesn't end up destroying the world. So how does TUE end up happening? Well, ten years later - with Danny remaining a forever 14 year old ghost - Dan ends up finding out about time travel. He finds out a way to travel back into the past, and he does.
So he can take over his past self's life. Danny just thinks he's fighting a weird doppleganger ghost, but ends up getting overshadowed. It's like being in a weird limbo, and Danny's not really sure what's happening - but his friends figure something out. After all, its been ten years since dan saw his friends, something has to give.
And that episode happens. Danny ends up meeting clockworth, beats Dan. But, well, it's not really happily ever after - somewhat. Ehh.. sorta. Danny's been traumatized by Dan's overshadowing - making him realize that despite everything, there are things ghosts can do that danny simply cannot and he needs to prepare for it. Onset paranoia, anyone?
Dan tells them his whole tragic backstory - there's a chance for redemption here, for him. For forgiveness. Not immediately, not yet, but its there. And he doesn't want to go back to the future - he's alone there. He's tired of being alone.
But he ends up being convinced - he needs to learn to look forward, not cling back. He can build himself up again, find new family. He doesn't have to be alone. So Dan goes back to the future.
"But come tell me if Vlad's giving you trouble --" and he smiles something wicked, "I'd be happy to handle him again"
and finally
not so much as any concrete thoughts as it is just me being emotional over Danny and Damian's brotherhood in this au and also Danny's hands. Again.
lIKE.. I put it in the tags of my reblog of my "danny's scarred hands' ficlet but im putting it here and its just?? Danny grabbing the blade of Damian's sword. Him grabbing the sword multiple times despite the fact that he knows it will hurt, that he will hurt himself. That he will keep hurting himself until Damian himself stops.
its just like??? whats it mean to spill your own blood just so that this little boy you've just met won’t have to ever again. he doesn't know any english and he is hurting you and yet you take him home and get him new clothes. he runs away and you go looking for him, every single time. you teach yourself arabic first so that you can converse with him.
this boy is a clone and so are you. you're a clone of his father he's a clone of your son - by nature of your existence this is your child. except its not your child, you don't have one, its just a little boy who happens to share the same dna as you. and you take him home and he becomes your little brother.
what's it mean when its you whose been hurt rather than him? whats it mean when you’d hurt yourself again just so that he can start to heal, so that he knows that he’s worth it? you cut your hands on his blade, catch its swing, just so this boy can know, can learn, that there’s someone who will bleed for him. that there's someone who will scar their hands just to make sure that you wont scar yours.
you’re a bleeding heart and its spilling out onto your palms. you take bloody fingers and wrap it around your little brother’s and say "its okay. it’s okay. you’re safe. no one will hurt you here. i promise. i wont let them. no one will hurt you so long as i'm around."
"put the sword down. i can show you how. let me show you how."
and damian in this au just reminds me of the song "eight" by sleeping at last. like?? the lYRICS. he is sO "eight" coded
'show me how to lay my sword down for long enough to let you through.' 'here i am. pry me open. what do you want to know?' 'im just a kid who grew up scared enough to hold the door shut and bury my innocence' 'but here's a map. here's a shovel. here's my achilles' heel. im all in palms out. im at your mercy now and im ready to begin. i am strong enough to let you in.'
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"by nature of our existence we are father and son, but by choice we are brothers. we are brothers we are brothers we are brothers. and i love you"
#dpxdc#dp x dc#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc crossover#dpdc#clone^2#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp dc#dp dc crossover#dpxdc au#dpdc au#ITS JUST. THEM. IM SORRY BUT ITS THEM AND I LOVE THEM.#damian's guilt of hurting danny and the consistent conversations they have from that. danny always tells damian he forgives him.#'i hurt you' 'i know' 'im sorry' 'i know'#'one day i hope you forgive yourself just as much as i have forgiven you.' 'repeat after me: its not your fault'#'youre my brother and i hurt you and im sorry. i love you.'#i should get around to making a post about the batfam meeting them but i just!!! I love damian and danny i love their dynamic#and i know that i was the one who decided that its years before they meet the batfam after meeting each other but its still just a choice#that im stil so happy about because they become brothers! they meet the batfam and they're expecting baby damian to be like how damian was#when he arrived in the manor but he's not. he's not. he wears funny graphic tees and his older brother is bruce's clone and its so clear#that they love each other. bby dames steals his brother's flannels and gets chased around by him. and they roughhouse like brothers do#and his older brother is bruce's clone and he throws damian over his shoulders and calls him 'dames' and 'dami' and 'my boy' and its so#so obvious that this clone of bruce utterly adores damian.#and i had the idea before writing this that damian's first english word is 'star' and he turns to danny and calls him star when he wants#his attention for something. he points at him and says 'star' and he doesn't do that much anymore now that he knows english#but its one of the first signs of him trusting danny when he first arrived.
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hwanchaesong · 9 days
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Sanctuary (Love Epiphany) Preview
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pairing: Heeseung X F!Reader
synopsis: Cupid's arrow was thought to be amiss, but as the world slows down and the gravity of reality pushes the feelings out just for the arrow to pierce through it, causing flowers to start blooming even during winter.
word count: tba
genre & warnings: angst, smut, fluff, warnings tba
a/n: this is a teaser for the upcoming Enhypen: Tropes & Parallels series that i've been working on. i hope y'all look forward to it. please don't hesitate to tell me if you wanted to be added to the taglist. tysm 🩷
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Heeseung felt his lungs burn, desperate for air. He felt his knees buckle, begging for a few minutes of rest. He felt his heart beat faster, tired of pumping blood to keep him oxygenated. He felt his brain go numb, shutting down from how much thinking he's done for the past hour.
But he couldn't stop yet, no, he's not gonna pause his mission on finding you.
He needs to see you, to talk to you, to hold you, to hear your angelic voice once more or else he'll go insane from how much his entire being is longing for your presence.
"Heeseung? What are you doing here?"
Heaven sent, he must have done something good in his past life if he's being rewarded like this despite being a fool who couldn't play his cards right.
He turns to where your voice came from, and my god, you were as gorgeous as the day he first saw you in your backyard, wearing your soiled red overalls and ugly crying about some toy that you accidentally destroyed.
Except right now, you stand in front of him, wearing an ivory colored polyester coat, strands of your hair falling perfectly to frame your endearing face, the tip of your nose slightly red from the cold due to the winter season.
You are spectacular, more so when he saw a glimpse of the silver bracelet that he gave you before you left his side. The bracelet with his initials on it.
"Heeseung? Are you okay?" you asked him once more, worry etched on your features when he didn't answer the first time.
You were astonished to see him here, not once in your wildest dreams did you think that you'll meet the man whom you swore to bury in the back of your mind.
But then again, buried treasures are meant to be dug, to be appreciated. They are meant to be seen by the world, one that Heeseung was holding in the palm of his hands as he approached you and cupped your face.
"I'm here to look for my home." he mumbles, and you had half a mind to ask him to repeat what he said because your fuzzy senses might be playing tricks on you.
You might have heard him wrong, only to be slapped by the fact that you heard him right.
"I followed my walking diary here. My safe place, my comfort zone." He lowered his head, nuzzling his nose with yours.
"I'm here to be with my sanctuary."
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taglist
@lilyuwon @ramenoil
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hezuart · 6 months
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New helluva boss episode is out, any thoughts?
Season 1 Fizz: Robo Fizz was mean and called children ugly. Real Fizz called his guests “freaks”. Called Moxie an "ugly little bitch". Bragged about his fame and the money made off his robots and was even really pissed off his robot was destroyed at that theme park and wanted to sue
Season 2 Fizz: Extremely insecure, extremely nervous, hates the robots produced in his image, never bad mouths anyone and is really kind and nice to his competition, knows ASL and gives inspiration to children 
Who on earth is this guy???? You’re not Fizz??? By god, she’s done it again! Another male main character has been uwuified!! 😰When will it end???
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Mammon: “You’ll be like the son I never had!” Fizz is elated at this, but Blitz’s dad already treated Fizz like the son he never had? Literally gave him a card saying he wished Fizz was his son. He was treated super well and was the most beloved within his circus. I mean, he did lose that, and him explaining everything he has is because of Mammon, and so I get it, he has an attachment to all this. I like that we are expanding on his character, but I feel like its overdone. The insecurity is a little too much. The panic attacks are a little too much. (Dude lost his arms and legs in a freak fire accident and its a creepy fan that he probably has to deal with on a daily basis that sets him off? I feel like he would be a tad bit mentally and physically stronger to deal with. I mean, he fricken talked back to STRIKER, a serial killer holding him for ransom locked in a cage last episode??? But he freezes up when an annoying fan criticizes him? Just feels inconsistent.) 
Mammon saying “If you’re a chick, give up on your dreams, because woman ain’t funny” and then Vivziepop’s name appearing in the corner… there’s so much to unpack there. I think Viv meant it as like “I’m a woman, so I can write that joke!” or “I’m a woman, who wrote this show and is therefore funny so Mammon is wrong and it's ironic!” But it's been established that Viv neglects and mistreats her female characters. They’re either all bitches or cardboard cut outs whose entire existences revolve around a male character. It’s low-key sexist. On top of the fact that, Viv may not actually be funny because most of the actually funny jokes in the show were written by Adam and Brandon, who are both men. So its VERY ironic, but not in the way she believes it to be. 
The irony of Mammon hiring an Imp who idolizes him only to exploit him and treat him like garbage… weren’t their exworkers of spindle horse that felt that way? 
Some people think that Fizz’s creepy fan is like.. Viv’s poke at her critics but I don’t see a comparison at all. This guy is a super super big fan that wants to work with Fizz, which isn’t what the Viv critics want. I’m pretty sure that’s the whole point- is that they want nothing to do with her? So I’m pretty sure this guy just represents a creepy fan, which everyone gets. Like a Syndrome character. 
Also in season 1, Blitz killed imps left and right for Stolas, but when that fan is actually getting close to Fizz and threatening his life, Blitz doesn’t kill him on site. He just hits him with a gun. Thank goodness he kills him later but Blitz has never really been discreet. It was just weird forced timing I guess. Season 1 Blitz would have never hesitated. He would have killed that guy on site.
I will never get over Asmodeus’s weird coat, his anatomy changes with whatever he’s wearing lkdsgjldkfj 
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Mammon and Fizz are pretty much just Valentino and Angel Dust , but no physical exploitation (other than his robo replicas)
The Glam and Glitz sisters are really cool I’m obsessed with their performance, but we go right back to Viv’s 2 types of women: bitches. They’re bitches to each other too. They’re sisters who have like amazing choreography and on stage chemistry, and yet they constantly fight, like… how do they even function 
ALSO THEY GOT TOM HARDY TO SING HE’S NARRATING THE COMPETITION YOU GOT THE INTERNET’S FAMOUS MUSICAL COMEDIAN TO SING A SONG FOR YOUR “COMEDY” SHOW WHERE THE SONG ISN’T EVEN FUNNY It looks like he wrote it himself but… if even Tom can’t make it funny then who can???? I’m mad on his behalf 
Also… the ASL imp
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…. “I want to be a clown just like you! : D “ Fizz: Exploited for money as a clown ever since he was young, gained a boatload of insecurity because his boss was so pushy, forced to deal with sexual encounters, sold his likeness into a popular sex doll without actually wanting to, lost his arms and legs in a freak fire accident because the circus tents aren’t safe- Also Fizz: “You can do whatever you want to : ) “ This would have been a sweet moment if this wasn’t Helluva Boss!!!!!! This is Hell!!! what on earth are you doing Viv!!!! Kid pls do literally anything else with your life  Also how and why does Fiz know ASL
Ozzie and Fizzie getting a love song is cheesy you know, but…. Stolas X Blitz fans wish man… they WISH Oz x FIz is literally just the better Stolas x Blitz. Like this what the Stolitz fans want but its given to the side characters for some reason. Fizz’s end song was nice but All our main characters are just so flat Sad uwu special sweeties that have done nothing wrong... I'm just so sad to see them become former shadows of their badass selves. Our main characters were greedy, selfish, mean, sometimes creepy assholes. Now they're not. It was either an accident, they're hypocrites, or they were abused- and im like... this is Hell, can't we still have our main demon characters be assholes? I'm so curious what the explanation is gonna be for Blitz x Verosika. Is she gonna be framed as the bitch who ruined the relationship? Did Blitz "accidentally" steal her car and credit card because he was drunk? Like what else are we gonna strip away so he's "relatable"?
Nice to see Wally Wackford back I missed him 
I like how fiery Ozz’s design gets Ozzie confessing he loves Fizz to an entire crowd so all of Hell knows and everyone is like “OMG I KNEW IT! GOOD FOR THEM!” Being with a low class demon was something to be ashamed of. A power imbalance. Something seen as taboo in Hell. Now we have 3 top sin embodiments dating the lowest of low class in Hell and not only do people not care negatively, they’re happy for them. There’s no stakes. Our main characters can do whatever they want “You’re gonna regret revealing that Ozz!” how who are you gonna tell? the romance police? fricken Now we have Mammon! Add him to the reoccurring villains I guess!!!! yeesh 
(Clowns are apparently also like… influencers in this world for some reason???? I still don't understand Vivziepop's clown obsession I think this is just not my jurisdiction )
All things considered, not a bad episode for season 2, but im kinda at the point where I don't think helluva boss is gonna deliver anything outside of abused main characters with cute relationships I don't think they're gonna do anything else
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