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stargirlsturniololover · 3 months

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rafe’s babydoll

request: no this is actually a dream that i had a daydream that is… but since day one i’ve said that rafe could run me over with his motorcycle i swear i’m sane

warnings: no slight mean!rafe but like rafe is always slightly mean. very much bimbo!ditzy!reader tho

summary: you show rafe your new biking jacket when he takes you to get your nails done.

also: i swear i’m not like an anti-feminist that is just like girls are dumb and are all bimbos or something bug😭 i just love the idea of rade with a bimbo gf is that a crime

also also: i’m imagining season 1 (only cuz i literally started watching this show yesterday but it could be whenever ig)

also also also: i just finished season 1 so now i’m starting season 2 in case y’all were wondering

also to the 4th: i HIGHKEY think i ate this up and i’m a sucker for sweet rafe like mean rafe is good in moderation but i’m down for sweet bf rafe anytime😜 (if i didn’t eat please tell me, tell me if i did eat too)

fit check:

reader: this with the pink helmet and pink jacket from the heading (very much lela from teen beach movie core aka MY CHILDHOOD MOVIE… anyway)

rafe: kinda this or just his normal polo and board shorts combo.

rafe cameron x fem!bimbo!ditzy!reader (sorry for all those exclamations😭)

“rafey….” you whine, stomping into the living room of tanneyhill.

rafe sighs as he stands up from the couch and walks over to where you stood huffing in the hallway.

“what is it baby….? ‘s something wrong?” he questions, grabbing you by the waist and giving you a once over to make sure everything’s alright.

you hold up your hand to show rafe the broken nail on your right hand.

“i was just helping wheeze cut out some papers for her diary and the next thing you know my nail broke in half.” you blubber, resting your head on rafe’s chest.

“oh princess…” he says in a mocking tone, “we can’t have that, can we?”

“no rafey, and tonights the midsummer party and now my nail is all gross.” you say, pressing your chin into his chest so you can look up at him.

“alright princess, go grab your helmet, i’ll drive you to the nail salon.” he says, folding at your adorable little pout.

“but rafey, why can’t we take the truck….? don’t wanna ride on the motorcycle.” you whine.

“now babydoll, if you want your nails to be nice for the party, you’re gonna go get your helmet like i asked.”

“sorry rafey,” you pout, sulking back to rafe’s room to grab your pink jacket and helmet from his closet.

“‘s it still wet outside R?” you ask, still not sure on the weather after the hurricane that swept through the county a few days back.

“if you’re wondering if it’s the right weather for that jacket of yours, it is.” he responds, slipping on his boat shoes.

you squeal as you run back downstairs, jacket and helmet in hand.

“that jacket of yours” was the jacket that had just arrived after a couple months in the mail transit.

it was a light pink biker jacket that you had perfectly color matched to the helmet rafe bought you for when you rode his bike with him.

if it were any other regular pink biker jacket, it would have arrived about 5 and a half months earlier, but this jacket was special.

on the back of the jacket, in pure swarovski crystals, were the words “rafe’s babydoll”.

you had wanted it to be a birthday present for rafe, but since it was so late it was more of a just cause gift.

“look rafey.” you squeal, slipping the jacket on and giving him a twirl.

“oh babydoll, it’s adorable…. you’re adorable.” he states, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you into a kiss.

“thank you rafe, ‘s just for you.” you mumble, pressing a kiss to the slope of his nose.

after rafe zipped up your jacket for you, he walked you outside.

“now precious, do you remember the rule for riding rafey’s motorcycle?” he asks, setting you on the back and sliding your helmet over your head.

“mhm” you hum, smiling at rafe through the visor of your pink helmet.

“ok and what is it.” he asks, clasping the helmet under your chin.

“hold on to rafey at all times….?” you state, with little confidence because you can’t be bothered with rules when rafe can just re-tell them to you.

“right baby, hold on to rafey at all times.” he confirms, sliding in front of you on the bike.

you slip your hands around his middle as rafe starts the drive to the starlight nail salon.

• • • •

after your appointment, you and rafe walked out of the salon, you admiring your fresh pink manicure and rafe admiring you.

he took in your pink biker jacket, hello kitty cropped t shirt, and your light denim short shorts.

he leans in and presses a lingering kiss to the side of your perfectly styled hair.

you look up at rafe and smile, gently placing a kiss to his lips.

“thank you for taking me to get my nails done rafey,” you say, grateful for your boyfriend that can’t help but spoil you.

“no problem babydoll, it’s what ‘m here for.” he responds, as you arrive back to where his bike was parked.

“now let’s go get ready for this party, how’s that sound?” he asks, slipping onto the seat in front of you.

“sounds good rafey.” you hum, resting the cheek of your helmet to his back as he pulls out of the parking lot.

#rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe fluff #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x bimbo!reader #bimbo!reader #obx fic #outer banks

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sammiesallow · 1 year

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Could I request a list of only Ominis’ headcannons??? Please?

YES YOU CAN I LOVE HIM

Ominis Gaunt Headcanons!

The sweetest most gentle soul ever

Even if he has his wand, he always appreciates you "guiding" him around

Grab his hand in the halls and gently pull him around

He knows where he's going, he just wants your touch all the time

Sleepy boy!

Cuddle him, hold his hand, sit with him in class and he's immediately falling asleep

Sleeping next to you makes him feel safe

He's very romantic! Brings you flowers, chocolates, jewelry, new robes, etc

(It's not like he doesn't have the money LOL)

Sugar daddy basically (but not in a gross way)

You go to hogsmeade together and the first thing he asks is if you want anything

He has such a sweet tooth!! Buy him stuff from honeydukes and he'll love you for the rest of your life

Or if you're a Hufflepuff, sneak him food from the kitchens!

Pda isn't really his thing, but hand holding or a gentle hand on his shoulder will have him blushing to his ears

Like in class, you gently put your hand on his to help him with something

He has a charm that will turn his pages to braile, but sometimes he still struggles because he can't exactly *see* what he's doing

Especially in potions, that's his worst class because he can't see what color his potion is

But you help him with his studies!

His favorite thing is your voice.

Read to him please! Read him books and novels from the library

Sit in the undercroft with his head in your lap and quietly read him any book of his choice

Or you can do other things in the undercroft!

Like spell practice! Tell him how you perfected a recent spell, like accio

Use accio on him, or his tie

PULL HIM IN FOR A KISS THAT WAY???

shocks him at first but you tell him what you're doing and ask if it's ok beforehand

Afterwards he literally flushes from his neck to his ears and down to his d

Anyways he thinks it's really hot

He's so sweet with you and gets really worried when you come back to the castle hurt after a mission or assignment

(Or if you go out in general)

always concerned for your safety because he's so worried about the dark magic he knows you deal with

Hearing sebastian cast crucio on you was one of the worst things he ever had to listen to

Tries so hard not to cry because he knows the pain that you had to go through

Runs over and holds you afterwards, gives you wiggenweld

Immediately after you get out of the scriptorium he's holding you and ranting about how he hates dark magic and saying how much he hates hearing you in pain

You talk him through it and hold him in your arms in the undercroft

He just a 10/10 boyfriend, Ominis loves you so much and is the most kind-hearted and loving man you'll ever meet

A/n- I love him so much RAHHHH

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy x reader #ominis gaunt x reader #hogwarts #hogwarts legacy x you #ominis x oc #ominis x mc #sebastian sallow

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genericpuff · 3 months

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ok listen right

please don't take the implication of what i'm about to say the completely wrong way, there's a point i have to make here

there's this gross thing that happens in LO that's been definitely talked about numerous times (by many people) where fashion is used to label a character's like, "alignment" between "good" "bad" "pure" "tainted" etc. this is something that comes up a lot when discussing Minthe and Persephone because there are a LOAD of double standards in how Minthe was treated and viewed for dressing like a "slut" but then Persephone wears the exact same fit and suddenly she's a queen-

(image courtesy of @anoldplace on Instagram, I'll be showing a couple of their posts in this because they show off a lot of the great - and frankly disturbing - parallels in LO, whether intended by Rachel or not)

-but can we talk about how the "bad ending" version of Persephone where she ends up with Apollo slaps WAY FUCKING HARDER than anything we've seen her dressed in since she got with Hades ??

fucking hello?? where's THAT fit ??

you're telling me this girl is queen of the underworld and the best she can do in the fashion department is looking like a color-swapped version of Hera ???

and I WANNA MAKE THIS PERFECTLY CLEAR, this isn't me trying to say "Persephone would have been way cooler if she got with Apollo", that is FAR from the point, more so just pointing out the pattern of Rachel aligning "bad" with "dresses with more flavor than an extremely out-of-touch conservative boomer". Even when she tries to draw Persephone in more "out there" clothing it just comes across as ... tacky? And only at her own detriment?

Like, how the fuck is this supposed to be Persephone being drawn through a literal male gaze (Apollo):

And THIS is supposed to be Persephone being drawn from a female gaze (her own because she dressed herself):

Like literally how? How does this happen? Especially when the latter is STILL being framed from a male perspective (the green guy behind her, "Jeffrey") but we're supposed to believe it's some "boss babe" moment for Persephone to just be walking down the street while getting oggled inappropriately by a male onlooker? How could these scenes be any more different and yet more alike? She's still being objectified for the characters around her and the audience, but we're supposed to believe the second is better than the first one because... she chose to wear that?

Sure, one could argue that at least she dressed herself and that definitely gives her agency, but it's really Rachel telling on herself where her priorities are in trying to write a "feminist comic" that she had Persephone dress herself and then STILL have its only purpose be for men on the sidelines to stare at and objectify her. When you just know this same outfit would have undoubtedly been used to slut shame characters like Minthe or Thetis or Leuce.

I don't even know, man. The intentions in LO's writing are so confused, contradictory, and ultimately pointless. It's trying so hard to be "feminist" and a "deconstruction of purity culture" but then it turns around and reinforces all that same shit it's claiming to be fighting against anyways. Persephone would be an evil slut if she was with Apollo, look at her outfit! But not here, not the banana purse dress being oggled by strangers on the sidewalk, not now that she settled down with her old rich husband who she only knew for a couple weeks before being separated for 10 years but their love was just so strong and the thirst for dick so real that she and him loyally waited for one another until she was old enough to make it "not be creepy" anymore for them to hook up, but only after marriage. She's definitely not a gold digger like Minthe or a vapid slut like Thetis or a homewrecker like Leuce, nah.

I just wish she'd dress herself, for the love of god. Let her dress herself with her own input and not the influence of the people around her or the tone of the comic's own internalized misogyny that demands "woman must always be objectified for better or for worse, that is The Rule!"

Of course she can't "dress herself" though. She's an extension of Rachel and Rachel herself writes like an out-of-touch boomer who will and has gladly gone about how men are just clamoring at the bit to stare at her and get to her... but then claims she "didn't realize sexism was all that bad" until she started working on LO.

Sorry, this post got very long and very mean, I initially just wanted to make the comparison in a very silly haha "wild how bad ending Persephone has way more visual personality than good ending Persephone" way, but then I thought about it too long and pissed myself off LMAO

And no, I don't want to go back to beating the dead horse of "banana dress bad" because honestly, I think in any other context or comic, sure, it would be very cute to see her walking around in an outfit she chose herself even if it's "objectively" not a great outfit, it shows agency and not caring what other people think which is VERY freeing. But we're not reading that comic, we're reading LO, where a woman's worth and value is only determined by how the men around her react to her and only Persephone is allowed to be empowered by wearing outfits that would otherwise be treated as "slutty" if worn by anyone else.

I don't want the message to be "Persephone looks like a dumbass bimbo" or, on the flipside, "Persephone looks boring and out-of-touch", I want the message to be "Persephone is valid for dressing how she wants, just like how the women around her are valid for dressing how they want regardless of whether or not they're protagonists or antagonists."

Quit using women's fashion as an alignment chart, quit using these "not so sly for a misogynist guy" dogwhistles as a way to "other" the women around the power fantasy main character. Women deserve to dress how they want without shame or objectification - all women, not just the women you like.

#lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical

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ghostfanwriter · 6 months

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✨🥐 𝐊𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐝 🥐✨

Part two to Pink Velvet.

🥐 Pairing: Single dad, young Joel Miller x Baker! Reader

✨ Setting: No Outbreak Au! Joel's the biological father of Sarah and Ellie.

🥐 Synopsis: Joel starts working on the renovations around your bakery. But he's willing to do more than just fixing your floors for you.

✨ Features: Joel and reader flirting some more, reader being helplessly down for Joel (and Joel eating it UP), a lot bit of a competency thing from reader.

🥐 Word count: 4.2k

✨ About this/Author's note: You guys seemed to really like part one, I can't tell you how happy I got with all the comments on it 🤧 This one is pure fluff and flirtation. I love watching them being all awkward and giggly next to one another. It's cooking, friends, and they know it.

Hope you like it 🩷

You hear a soft sound while you're putting the chairs up so you can sweep the floor. After you don't pay it any mind, you hear a proper knock on your door, and it startles you, making you jump and laugh while you walk towards the door, Joel laughing on the other side.

"Sorry, I tried not to scare you, but you didn't hear it the first time." He says, laughing as you make room for him to walk in.

"Not, it's fine. I just wasn't expecting you to be here early, I was trying to finish cleaning before you arrived." You explain yourself, locking the door back.

"Did you just close?" He asks, noticing the dirty dishes on top of a few of the tables.

"Well, my closing time is never my closing time, you know? People arrive five minutes before closing and I just can't tell them to leave." You say.

"And they never even ask what time you're closing?" He asks and you laugh.

"Some do. But they stay anyway." You say, and he shakes his head.

"Well, I'mma help you so we can sit down and talk, then." He says and you smile.

"Thank you, Joel." You say as he gives you no time to protest, going to the dirty tables and picking up the dishes, putting them on the counter, then going around and putting the remaining chairs on top of their tables.

"You know what's really unfair?" He asks, and you frown.

"What is really unfair?" You ask.

"You know my name and I don't know yours." He says, and you smile, saying your name.

"Nice to meet you." He says your name, and you love how it sounds on his lips.

"Nice to meet you too." You say, swiping a table so you can sit down.

...

"So, tell me about what needs to be done here." He says, sitting across from you.

"Well, first the floorings." You start. "They're... Not great. There are hollow pieces, uneven parts, it's all scratched and the color's not so nice anymore, the tiles of the bathrooms are stained and gross. So I'd like to change all of them." You say, and he nods, a cute pout on his lips as he keeps his eyes on you while you talk.

"Alright, fully changing the floorings will require a few hours to work on them and then a while of no one walking over them, is that ok?" He asks, leaning down to touch the floor.

"Yeah, no problem. Sundays I only open in the morning, just to sell some bread, but it's always the same people, so I could just let them know I'd be closed on Sunday. Maybe try and deliver them the breads if they want." You say.

"Great. I could start on Saturday night and let it rest until Monday morning." He says.

"You can do the whole flooring in just one night?" You ask, shocked.

"Yeah, my brother helps me out when I need it. I'll just bring him with me and we should be done quick. Maybe in like... Four or five hours" He says.

"Alright, that sounds good. I can work on the bread for delivery while you two do it. Does Saturday night works for you, though?" You ask.

"Yeah, any day that works for you works for me." He says.

"Oh, ok. It's just that, you know, Saturday night. Maybe you'd have something to do." You say.

"Trust me, I don't know what going out at night feels like for a very long time now. I'm always working at night." He laughs.

"I know. I miss it, but since I opened I haven't really been going out much neither." You admit.

"Well, now you're gonna spend the nights here watching me renovate your shop, how exciting is that?" He jokes.

'Oh, watching you be skillful and fix things, carry heavy stuff around and make my bakery look better? That's very exciting.' You think to yourself.

"Can't wait." You say, and he laughs.

"So, floorings we can't do much for at least a week, then. Is it ok if I work in one bathroom at a time? Maybe you keep just one, would people hate that too much?" He asks.

"No, I don't think so. I'm ok with that." You say.

"Alright, so I can work on it before the floorings. But you mentioned the walls and lights too?" He squints his eyes.

"Yeah. I think the old renter used to hang big and heavy stuff on the walls, so they're full of big holes." You say, and he looks around, frowning when he doesn't see anything. "I covered them." You say. "With the paintings."

"Why do you need me then? You're already so good at this." He jokes, and you laugh.

"I'm talented." You shrug, laughing.

"That you are. That cake?" He says, his eyes growing wide as he remembers the taste.

"You liked it?" You ask.

"Oh, I fucking loved it!" He says. "We ate the whole thing in like... Ten minutes." He says.

"Really?" You ask, your smile even bigger, even though you can't help but wonder... Who's we?

"Yeah, I mean, I'm sorry." He says, his tone suddenly getting serious as he leans over the table, touching your forearm, your chest suddenly filling with air. "But we destroyed that beautiful thing you created." He says, laughing.

"Oh, my poor baby." You whine dramatically, making a cry face, and he laughs.

"Do you do it all yourself?" He asks, and you nod.

"I do." You say.

"Well, you're in the right business, that was insane." He says, and you can feel your cheeks on fire. "Is there anything else?"

"What?" You ask, a silly smile stuck on your face, still flustered with his praising.

"Anything else you want to work on?" He asks, laughing.

"Ah, yeah, hum... There's an infiltration on the open patio, on the back." You say, and his eyes grow wide.

"And we're here talking about holes in the wall?" He asks, concerned, his laugh telling how funny he thinks your priorities are.

"I'm sorry!" You say, laughing at yourself. "They just annoy me so much."

"Can I see it?" He asks.

"Sure, it's over there." You point to the patio, getting up, and he follows you.

...

You remove the planter from the corner where the infiltration is and he bends down to take a look at it.

"Well, this is not looking good." He says.

"Is it too bad?"

"Yeah, the concrete is pretty wet, there may be a broken pipe underneath here." He says. "Was it like this when you rented?" He asks.

"Yeah. I asked my landlord about it and he said he'd get a guy over to check on it, but it's been a year and still nothing." You explain.

"He won't fix it." He says, like he's certain of it. "But neither should you." He says.

"But you said it's not looking good." You say, confused.

"Because it isn't." He says, getting up, standing close to you. "But it's not your problem, you shouldn't pay for it."

"I was gonna ask you about that." You say, your voice small as he's towering over you. He smells so good, he's so big, so... "Do you want something to drink?" You ask, your throat dry all of a sudden.

"Yeah. Do you have coffee?" He asks.

"Coffee at night?" You laugh, walking back inside.

"Still got a lot to do when I get home." He says, sitting down as you brew him some coffee.

"So, how much of what I have to do here do you think I should ask him to help me with?" You ask.

"Anything that's structural, permanent or semipermanent." He starts. "The infiltration, the tiles and the floorings, basically. You won't take the floorings with you when you leave, and they seem like they haven't been touched for a long time, so you're gonna up the value of the space. The infiltration is here since before you, so it's not your problem." He says. "He should fully pay for both, as far as I'm concerned."

"Don't know if he's gonna like to hear that." You say. You know the man, unfortunately.

"I can come over if you want. I can bring you a detailed budget and project plan, we sit down and talk to him." He offers.

"When, you think?" You ask, bringing him his coffee, sipping on some water.

"Thank you." He says, drinking it. "I just have to take a look around, take some notes, see what kind of materials you want, maybe in one week we can have it all. Maybe earlier." He says.

"Cool. One week is long enough to decide everything and tell everyone about the Sunday when I'll need to close."

"Alright. So I'll take a look around." He says.

"Ok, I'll be in the kitchen. Just call if you need anything." You say, getting up.

...

You finish what there was still left to do in the kitchen while Joel inspects the place. After you're both done you close everything.

"Do you want a ride?" He asks after you close the door.

"No, it's fine. I gotta run some errands, buy some groceries." You say. "Thank you, though."

"No problem. I'll text you tomorrow so we can talk floorings and tiles." He says.

"Uhum. Thanks, Joel. See ya." You say.

"See ya." He says, waving goodbye before crossing the street, going to his car, and you walk away.

For the next three days he texts you, you send him the type of floorings you want, he explains to you the durability and maintenance costs and efforts of each option, and you ultimately decide everything you want.

You set a meeting with your landlord, and Joel says he'll join you, like he promised he would.

...

"So, how do you want to do this?" He asks.

"I don't know." You admit. "What do you think?" You ask.

"I think you should talk to him, and I should just back up what you say." He suggests.

"What if he doesn't listen to me?"

"Then I'll deal with him." He says, his tone almost intimidating.

"Ok." You agree as you watch the man walk inside.

"Alright, now what's this about?" He asks, as sweet as always. His eyes roaming from you to Joel, and Joel hates how the man eyes you up and down.

"Hi, Michael, look, I wanted to do some renovations, like I told you, so I called Joel." You say. "And we talked about the floorings and the infiltration on the back—"

"You're not expecting me to pay for it, are you sweetheart?" He cuts you, his tone condescending, and you see Joel's nostrils widen.

"Those were bad before I got in, you knew about the loose tiles, the worn out floorings, the infiltration was already pretty bad. And you know that." You say, angry. "You even said you'd fix that before it became too much of a problem." You add.

"Don't remember that." He laughs.

"Do you really wanna fucking do this?" Joel asks, his ever so deep voice even deeper, none of the usual softness coating it.

"I'm not here to talk to you, ok? You're just trying to make money out of this situation." Your landlord tries to sound convincing.

"If you don't work on this I'm gonna have you sign this aknowledgement notice saying that you were aware of the infiltration before she rented the space." Joel says, placing a paper on top of the table. "Because if that shit gets worse and she loses equipment, one of her clients or God forbid, she gets hurt... She's gonna sue you and then you're gonna lose a lot more money than you'd spend to fix it now." Joel says firmly, and you take a deep breath in. He's always so sweet to you, but the angry yet somehow professional tone he's using with your landlord makes you almost melt.

"How much is it gonna cost?" He asks, his bravery finding a short end on Joel's dominant presence.

"I made a budget for her. Found the most affordable materials and I separated my labor's cost on each part of what needs to be done here." Joel says, handing him a folder filled with numbers and project details.

"And what else needs to be done?" He asks you.

"Some of the lights are not working, even after I changed the lightbulbs, the floors are terrible, some of the tiles on the restrooms are falling down and the walls are filled with holes." You say. "Now I told Joel I didn't mind paying for part of this. Especially the floors, because I need a specific flooring, and it's a little more costly than other, worse options. So I suggest I pay for Joel's labor in all of these, except the infiltration and split part of the costs of the floorings with you." You add.

...

After some more back and forth you get to an agreement you're all satisfied with. Your landlord ends up paying for all the structural and permanent fixes, and Joel tells you that it's ok for you to pay him a bit per month.

On the first day of the renovations, Joel's working on the infiltration, breaking the old and humid concrete so he can access the pipe and see what's wrong with it.

He wants to make sure he at least changes the pipe today so the leaking stops, so he's outside, focused on finishing it as fast as he can.

But his work is interrupted when you scream from the kitchen.

"Fuck!" You scream, and he comes in running, his eyes and nostrils wide, his protection glasses still on, a cloth on his shoulder, his neck glistening with sweat, his hair slightly stuck on his forehead, his arms so big, his torso and belly slightly outlined on his shirt—

"Are you ok?" He asks, scared, pulling you out of him.

"Me?" You ask, confused, finally finding his eyes.

"Yeah, you!" He says. "You screamed, I thought something happened to you."

"Oh, God, no! No, Joel, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry." You say, starting to laugh. "I'm just used to being here alone, I... I'm sorry, I'm fine." You explain yourself, and he laughs, his shoulders dropping as his body relaxes.

"Jesus, you almost fucking killed me." He says, a little out of breath while he removes his protection glasses.

"No, I'm sorry." You say, laughing, feeling funny for him caring about you.

"What happened?" He asks, leaning on the doorframe, still catching his breath.

"Oh, it was my fucking mixer. It was weird for a while and now it just doesn't wanna work anymore." You say, frustrated, going towards it to grab the dough that's inside it.

"Do you want me to take a look at it?" He offers.

"No, it's fine. You're already busy out there, I can call some technician tomorrow." You say, and he makes a 'tsk' sound, grunting at you.

"I'm already here, I'll see if it's something I can fix. You don't need to spend more money." He says, his look telling you he wouldn't let you say no as he uses the cloth he had on his shoulder to clean his hands.

"Thank you." You say. "Can you take that tray for me, please?" You ask, and he holds it in front of you, so you throw the dough in it and he puts it back on top of the table. "Thanks, gotta finish kneading it now." You say, setting a timer for fifteen minutes and starting to knead it.

He kneels down next to the mixer and uses his flashlight to inspect it.

"Did you smell anything burnt?" He asks, and you frown.

"Don't think so." You say, struggling with the dough.

"What did it do, exactly?" He asks, turning to look at you.

"It started kinda like... bumping, instead of it's constant movement?" You say, trying to see in his face if your words made any sense. "Like, usually it's pretty smooth, but then it started doing like—" you say, moving your arms to mimick it's bumpy and stiff movements. "And then it just stopped."

"Great demonstration, thank you." He says, his face showing pure satisfaction, and you laugh.

"Told ya. Talented." You joke, making him laugh before turning back to the mixer.

"Alright, I think I saw some oxidated parts. You'll probably have to change them, but I can oil them so you can use it until you get the new parts." He says.

"Sure, thank you." You say, and he goes outside, coming back with a can in hand.

He grunts as he kneels down next to the mixer, putting his flashlight in his mouth so he can properly oil the machine.

You watch him as he opens the can, throwing the lid on the floor besides him and wetting a brush, oiling the mixer parts.

His proactivity, his capacity, his availability to help you makes your knees weak, make you want to go to him — jump on him —, kiss him, thank him, fuck him.

Make sure he's well fed, well taken care of, make sure he's happy, he feels loved. Show him just how much you appreciate him.

"You got paper towels?" He asks, already up, startling you.

"Yeah, yeah, hum... They're over there." You point, almost out of breath. Both because of the kneading and your thoughts.

He rips two sheets of the paper and comes back, kneeling back down besides the mixer.

"I made a mess on your floor." He says, sounding apologetic.

"Ugh. How dare you, Joel? Make a mess while you fix my broken mixer for me?" You say, playfully. "How dare you try and not make me knead everything by — grunts — hand?" You say, grunting with the force you're making.

"That's a lot of dough, huh?" He says, standing next to you, watching you knead the dough from behind your shoulder before walking away to throw the paper away.

His smell — God his smell —, so woody and masculine, so strong and so gentle at the same time, the comforting warmth his body emanates, his soft and deep voice, so close to your ears...

All of him making you feel lightheaded, like you're drowning on the man, like you're incapable of peacefully coexisting with him without having him take over you.

"Yep, brioches, rolls, sweet breads." You say before the pause gets too long. "All the same dough." You add, almost jumping when your timer goes off. You look at it, turning your head, confused.

Has it been fifteen minutes already?

"It's this one." Joel says, coming back close to you with another timer in hand. "Croissants." He reads the name written on the tape you put on the timer, and you sigh.

"Shit." You say under your breath.

"What's wrong?" He asks.

"The croissant dough is chilling, and it's good to roll out and shape now, but I still got ten minutes on this one." You say, and he catches the distress and tiredness on your tone.

"Can I help you?" He asks, his voice soft and gentle.

"Don't tell me you know how to shape croissants?" You joke sweetly, looking up at him and laughing.

That'd be too much to ask.

"No, that's not I'm my book, sorry." He laughs, his own tone sweet and playful. "But I know how to squeeze things." He says, almost suggestively, you could swear. "I mean, how hard can this be?" He says, pointing at the dough with his palm.

"Oh, yeah? Go wash your hands." You say, and he goes, smiling.

He comes back, his sleeves rolled up, forearms looking obscene almost, his strong hands looking like they would feel so good, like they'd squeeze and hold you so nice...

"What do I do?" He asks, pulling you out of him again.

"You're gonna knead it like this. You lift it, then slap it down, then turn it and do the same. As soon as it gets less sticky you can start doing more like, pressing down and rolling it motions." You say, showing him how to do it.

"Alright, cute, thank you. Let the professional work now." He jokes, pushing you aside with his body.

"Ten minutes, huh? Professional." You say, and he gives you a desperate smile.

You grab your dough on the fridge and come back. Then you take the rolling pin and smack the dough a few times, startling Joel on the first one.

"Love for the craft, right?" He jokes, noticing the lack of delicacy on your movements.

"I like to think about some clients when I do this part." You say before thinking, and he laughs.

"Sounds therapeutic." He responds.

"The butter is actually pretty hard. Gotta break it a bit so I can roll it out." You explain, and he smiles.

He could listen to you talk about baking for as long as you wanted.

You start rolling the dough out, and he focuses back on his own dough.

"Look." He calls your attention. "Not sticking anymore."

"Now you can press and roll it." You say. "If you stand on your tiptoes you can put more force into it."

You set the a ruler at the top of your dough and start cutting it in long and thin triangles. But then your sight escapes from it, finding Joel at the other edge of the table.

His arms muscles flexing as he kneads the dough, his thick fingers piercing into it, his nostrils widening as he uses all his force and body weight — he learned so fucking fast — to work the dough. You're completely lost in him. Lost until you hear...

Your name?

You look at up at his face, a cocky smile on his lips.

"If you told me croissants we're about measurements I'd have done it." He jokes, his smile getting larger as your eyes widen. "Did you mess up your measurements? 'Cause I wouldn't have messed mine up." He teases, his puffy and red cheeks showing how hard he was holding his laughter back.

"No. No, I'm just—I'm just thinking here." You say, embarrassed to be caught mid daydream.

"Thinking, huh?" He asks, panting. "How much longer, again?" He asks, turning his head to look at the timer in front of him.

"Five more minutes." You say, laughing, and he shakes his head.

"Fuck— alright, I take it back. This is hard, Jesus Christ." He admits, stopping as his muscles give up with his laughter.

"To think that I used to wake up at four in the morning to make these everyday." You say, and he shakes his head.

"That's what you were thinking about?" He asks, smirking.

"Kinda." You admit.

You weren't... But he doesn't have to know that.

"You always did it all by yourself?" He asks.

"Pretty much. At first I had my mom help me, but then I realized that overnight proofing and simplifying my menu was better than working all day everyday, and now it's just me." You explain. "Well, me and my mixer." You say, pitifully looking at it.

"I'll fix it, don't worry about it. It needs some rest too." He says. "And well, you have me while it's broken, so that's not perfect but... At least you're not alone." He says, smiling sweetly at you.

"It feels good. Having someone to talk to." You admit. "Though I'm starting to really worry about how many rolls I'm gonna have to make you to pay you for this." You say, and he laughs.

"Never enough." He says, going back to knead the dough.

As the renovations progress, Joel spends each day more and more time in the kitchen with you. Even after he fixed your mixer, he still found reasons to spend some time there talking to you.

And it's not like you didn't escape your own chores to go talk to him. Your favorite thing to do was using him as a beta tester for new or improved recipes.

...

"Do you like raspberries?" You ask, coming close to him while he's applying the new tiles to the bathroom.

"I do." He answers, smiling. His smile sweeter everytime he looks at you.

"Try this." You hand him a small spoon with a raspberry custard. "Is it a bit too sweet?" You ask.

"Just a little, but yeah." He agrees. "Is it for a cake?" He asks.

"Donuts." You say, and he pouts, closing his eyes like you've hurt him.

"Get away from me." He says, handing you the spoon, gently pushing, and you walk away, laughing.

...

"Joel, catch." You say on another day, coming under his stairs and throwing him a pesto roll.

"Fucking amazing." He says with a mouthful after taking a big bite.

"Thank you. I'm testing them." You respond, almost skipping on your way back to the kitchen.

"Make some garlic ones!" He shouts.

"No!" You respond from the kitchen.

"Why not?" He yells, almost disappointed, his voice chocked on the rest of the roll he shoved in his mouth, and you come out of the kitchen.

"Because people come on dates here all the time!" You yell. "I don't want them kissing each other with garlic mouths." You say, already closer to him.

"Hmm. Is the atmosphere here romantic?" He asks, screwing a lightbulb.

"Very romantic." You say, smiling up at him. "Don't you think?" You ask him, and he finishes with the light, that starts brightening all of his best features as he climbs down the stairs, stopping close to your body.

"The only way to know is having a date here." He agrees, his eyes scanning your face, a sweet and adoringly smile on his lips. "You—"

When he opens them, one of your times goes off.

"My donuts." You say quietly, and he smiles, watching as you walk back into the kitchen.

...

"Are you ok with my brother coming over tomorrow?" He asks, throwing his equipment on the back of his truck.

"Yeah, sure. I don't want you going through the whole floor by yourself if you can have some help." You say, smiling.

He nods and stands near you, awkwardly shifting on his feet.

"Can I... Ask you something? And it's ok if you don't want to, I mean..." He stutters.

"What is it?" You ask.

"Is it ok if I bring us something to drink tomorrow?" He asks.

"Sure, I was already gonna bake you some rolls anyway." You say. "But is it to give you energy or to celebrate after you're done?" You ask with a smile, and he frowns, making you tilt your head to the side.

"No." He laughs, scrunching his eyes, gathering the courage to just say it. "I just — laughs — It's not for me and my brother... I wanted to ask you out, but we're already gonna be here tomorrow, so I was thinking of asking if we can hang out here, since we're already gonna be... here." He says, speaking fast so he doesn't have time to second guess himself.

"So you're asking me out... But in?" You ask, playfully, trying not to sound too excited.

"Yeah." He laughs. "Exactly." He says, his cheeks puffy and red as he looks down at you. "But I mean, I get it if you don't want to, if you want to keep it professional, you know?"

"Hmm, professionalism is kind overrated." You say.

"Alright, tomorrow night then." He's quick to say, not giving you time to second guess yourself. "We kick my brother out and hang out." He says, sighing, all of his stress leaving his body at once.

"Sure." You agree, laughing.

"Don't bake any garlic rolls, though." He adds, that sweet smile back on his lips.

"Oh, I'll exclusively bake them." You joke, and he smiles.

"See ya." He says.

"See ya." You say, walking away from him as he gets on his truck.

You're trying not to get your hopes too high. You are.

You're telling yourself there must me something about him that'll shatter the man you know. He can't be this charming, funny and good person he seems to be.

Or maybe you got lucky. Maybe he is all that.

Maybe tomorrow you're gonna have a great time, maybe you're gonna kiss him tomorrow.

You can't wait for tomorrow.

Hope you liked it 🩷

I wrote it right after finishing Pink Velvet, and spend the last week editing it. This series is so warming and comfortable for me that it hurts, I'm so happy you seemed to like it as much as I do 🩷🫶🏻

My Masterlist 🩷

#joel miller x reader #ghostfanwriter #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal characters #fanfic #pedro pascal's characters #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #young joel miller #no outbreak!joel miller

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levmada · 29 days

Note

hello! how r u doing?

can u write something angsty with either no comfort or comfort at the end (whatever u want). basically, reader has been having a pretty shitty week and has been working nonstop, and is the type to not about what's bothering them until they can't contain it anymore or they're calm enough to talk about it because they know they can get snappy and say some very sharp words that can be very hurtful. levi of course knows that, because he is our observant pookie, and leaves the reader alone, just acts normal. one night, let's say levi maybe says something snarky or whatever, that the reader has been some pretty bad attitude which is unlike them, and usually reader wouldn't take his words seriously and know that he's perhaps trying to help them open up. this time, it doesn't go the wau it's supposed to, and reader just fully snaps at levi and say some very harsh, petty and hurtful words to him. the rest is up to u!

and thank u btw, i love ur content❤️

yes, yes i can. ty for such a detailed rq :) this became angstier than intended😭but it's ok bc it was 10x more painful to write being mean to levi.

reader/us also has a distinct personality kind of built off the way you described, so i hope it's what you expect😅

➥ pairing: Levi x gn!reader

➥ c/w: college!au, Levi pov, Levi not realizing he has trauma for 1400 words, apologizing, selective mutism...?, heavy hurt and some comfort

➥ wc: 1.4k

If ever he ranked cleaning activities in his mind (which he has), organizing isn’t very high, but it doesn’t occur to him not to help you out with the little things when your week has been poisoned with the dual evils, shitty and exhausting.

Ever since you got back from class, you’ve sat there at your desk. He’s kept you in the corner of his eye, and that same scowl from an hour ago is still there, illuminated by the light of your laptop. You’ve paid it more attention than to anything else—which is not at all, even to your basic needs.

It’s best to give you space when that look is on your face, and has and will continue to, but not when it comes to eating and-or sleeping. Other than that, he’s content in the background. Whatever he does to help out, you always notice, and tell him thank you with a weak smile, but not today—today when you look particularly like you’re at your wit’s end.

When he finished organizing the apartment (including the fridge), he bypassed your desk and sat on his computer playing solitaire for a solid half-hour. Inevitably, he gets bored, and he’s giving you as much time as he’s willing to before he drags you out to eat something.

Unsatisfied without the job completely done, he rolls up his sleeves and starts at the end of your desk by emptying your pencil sharpener, making a face at how full it is.

To his satisfaction, your focus hardly wanes. Which is good, but he knows how you like everything anyway. With an undistinguishable but distinct fondness, he notes your quirks; even the way you hold your pen melds with your existence in his mind.

Or no, maybe that’s wrong. You’re a part of him; not a visitor, or even a resident, of his heart and mind.

“Levi, I need those pencils; leave them there.”

You’re referring to the plastic tin of a few colored pencils in his hand, which sat near the middle beside your computer. He looks at you, but you’re definitely serious about it, so he sets it back down.

“If you say so.”

You say nothing and go back to your work. Skipping the tin (which he wants to wash because of all the gross graphite smears and shavings at the bottom), he takes the pencil case beside that, and pops it open. An eraser found its way into a sea of colored pencils somehow somehow, as well as crayons—probably Hange. Not too long ago you had them over working on a class project. He starts picking out these imposters.

“Levi,” you huff, your expression severe as you look daggers at him. “Just leave it alone.”

“Tch, you’re kidding. You’d rather I waste my time sorting the bookshelf in reverse alphabetical order instead? That’s stupid, so why?”

He always gets ‘Are you okay?’ wrong, but this time you turn towards him with your fist tightly curled over your notebook. He doesn’t look startled, but he barely catches the beginning of your revile.

“Stop messing around!—I just told you to stop fucking with it, so quit being a fucking idiot and get out of my space!! This is so stupid, do you not see I’m busy!? ‘Cuz you clearly can’t listen!”

Ironically the angrier you sound, the less emotion shows on his face. Only at the end—you already look guilty—amidst silence like a bomb’s fallout, he wears the scowl of a frightened animal.

He waits until your lips start moving to turn around and leave.

At the door, he stops again with his hand clutching the knob, and glares at you over his shoulder. When your lips go to form his name, he slams it harder than necessary.

This is so stupid.

That was far from the first time someone has yelled at him in his life, and besides, is getting yelled at not an experience absolutely everyone’s had?

Even so, he can’t seem to make himself do fuck-all besides quietly sit, sit in your dark kitchen at the dining table, his legs folded to his chest. He feels like a gargoyle—odd, ancient, and unthinking.

Maybe he just never expected you would ever lose your temper, which is naive of him.

He doesn’t know what to do, until, your voice speaking softly makes him bolt up straight.

“I’m sorry, can I turn this on…?” you ask softly.

For now, your profile is merely a black shadow in the doorway, with your back illuminated by the one in the tiny hall. The switch you’re gesturing to would light up above the oven, rather than the whole room.

He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. But it’s not a no.

Despite the nature of turning on a light, it feels so slow.

He must’ve sat a while, because he even cringes, blinking feverishly. Before his vision even adjusts, the guilt etched into your expression is almost painful for him to look at, like a cavernous gorge shoveled into the earth miles wide and deep. You’re holding something to your chest.

“I’m so sorry for snapping like that. You didn’t do anything wrong at all. I’m so sorry, Levi. I’m never, ever too busy—fuck, I was frustrated and I never should take it out on you, not in any way, ever. I’m the one who’s an idiot.”

As you speak, you come until you’re by the table, standing like a magnet constantly being repelled from it.

Then you set what you were holding down in front of him—one, an expensive piece of paper (the kind that bends, not tears) with a drawing of some sort he doesn’t want to look at right now, and a rice cake wrapped in clingy wrap.

His favorite.

“I’m so so sorry,” you continue apologizing profusely. At this point your eyes are wet, but they keep darting away, with your nails surely leaving half-moon-shaped indents in your knuckles. You pray very quietly, “I’ll do anything ‘cuz you’re everything.”

Wide-eyed, he can’t seem to respond except for a raw sound in his throat after you say that. An instinct seems primal, as much as pumping blood is, that if he says anything, the likelihood that you’ll leave him will increase an unknown amount.

Normally he’s so calm under pressure, and he didn’t say anything before either—you’ll get the wrong idea. The best thing he can think of is to robotically slide the offerings closer.

You’re still trying not to cry when you go.

He stays there, just as he was, for another little while. He’s not really feeling anything, but at the same time, he’s running out of breath from the effort to calm down.

Ugh…

The way you clearly felt is probably what you get, but he doesn’t want that for you anyway. Even if you did mean any of it.

But you didn’t.

It’s midnight or so—too early for Levi to usually be asleep but very late for him to be coming to bed—when he taps the bedroom door open with a few fingers and slinks inside. To prevent from waking you up, he did most of his business in the bathroom in the dark.

It now helps him make out the shape of you under the covers on your side of the bed. He comes like a wraith, so much that he’s near-silent crawling into bed beside you, and using the edge of the covers to slip under.

Your back is in front of him. He wants to make sure you know it’s okay… but he doesn’t know how. He closes his eyes and rests his forehead right between your shoulder blades and the thin material of your tank top, the only place you’re touching. You’re warm, you smell good.

By the slight hitch in your breathing then, you know he’s here.

After a while, he brings his hand up to your waist, or rather a bit before it. It’s not long before you gently rest your fingers on top of his. He lets them slot in-between.

His eyes are heavy. He doesn’t bother opening them as he reaches around, bringing you his way, with your head nestled in his chest. That’s the only time you make a move, since he made it clear it’s okay for you to.

He holds you tightly and breathes you in. You both relax.

Levi masterlist | main masterlist

#levi x reader #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #captain levi x you #levi drabble #levi ackerman drabble #levi ackerman oneshot #levi ackerman fluff #captain levi x reader #aot oneshot

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narutobrainrotstuff · 22 days

Text

The moon in Naruto and Japanese mythology

Side note before I begin the essay:

(Skip this part of you like it’s not relevant to the rest of the essay)

Japan is called land of rising sun, Nihon 日本, due to a certain history. China used to call Japan the land of Wa which is a derogatory term as it means submissive. I guess out of spite the Japanese came up with different fancy names yet it was Prince Shôtoku who came up with Nihon when sending a letter to the Chinese Emperor “The Son of Heaven in the country where the sun rises (Nihon 日本) addresses a letter to the Son of Heaven in the country where the sun sets”. Clearly no hard feelings at all in this letter from the Prince lmao 😂😂.

Anyways moving on

(This essay is four parts so it’s a long ride 😂😂)

Part 1: Tsukuyomi-no-Mikoto

In Shintoism, Tsukuyomi-no-Mikoto was born from Izanagi’s right eye and was tasked with ruling over the night by his father as the moon deity. Tsukuyomi was notable for his immense beauty, cold reserved attitude, and obsession with enforcement of etiquette and order, sometimes even killing to enforce it.

He’s a mysterious figure and notable for one myth which is the killing of the food goddess (Uke Mochi).

In a nutshell, Tsukuyomi went on behalf of his wife, Amaterasu, to attend a feast held by Uke Mochi and was disgusted at how she prepared her food (she spat out food from her mouth and anus. I don’t blame him for killing her that’s gross as hell) so he ended up killing her. This angered Amaterasu who called him an “evil” Kami and banished him from plane of heavens. Tsukuyomi would end up chasing Amaterasu across the sky but never catch up to her leading to the creation of night and day. He would spend the rest of his days fighting to go back to how things were as punishment.

(This kind of matches up nicely with eye of the moon plan which is turning back the world to how it was without chakra similar to Tsukuyomi’s struggle to go back to his wife which how his world was).

Part 2: Tsuki-no-Usagi

Tsuki-no-Usagi translates to rabbit on the moon and it’s a popular myth imported to Japan from China.

The moon god or Buddha depending on the version (disguised as an old man) comes across a rabbit, a monkey, and a fox and asks them for food. The monkey climbed a tree and brought him fruit. The fox brought him fish yet the rabbit couldn’t bring him anything as he can neither climb nor swim. Instead he offers himself as food and prepares to jump into the fire. The moon god touched by the rabbit’s self sacrifice rewarded him by taking him to the moon. In the legend it is said the rabbit pounds mochi in a mortar to make rice cakes or tsukimi dango.

Kishimoto links this myth to Kaguya as she is referred to as rabbit goddess which is a reference to her moon origins. Moreover, Kaguya takes the form of a rabbit in her battle with Naruto and Sasuke.

Part 3: Blood Moon

The blood moon (lunar eclipse) has been considered a bad omen particularly in the Heian and Kamakura periods of Japan.

Here’s an excerpt as I’m not smart enough to paraphrase this 😂😂😂:

“Historical names as Kujo Kanemi and Minamoto no Yoritomo wrote about the blood moon. Kujo did a specific type of Buddhist practice to prevent bad events during a blood moon. The first shogun of the Kamakura Shogunate stayed inside to avoid the blood moon. There was also a famous poet during the Heian period, Saigyo, who mentioned in one of his poems about the lunar eclipse when the blood moon happens”.

The link to Naruto is obvious to all of you I’m sure 😂😂😂. Madara casts infinite tsukuyomi on the shinobi world by reflecting his rinne sharingan eye onto the moon which is colored as red.

Part 4: Very brief overview of the moon in Japanese culture

Ok this is the last part as this essay dragged on too long guys 😂😂😂

Buddhism played a huge role in incorporating the moon as a motif in Japanese art and culture. Buddhism was introduced to Japan through China and Japan later formed its own school termed Zen Buddhism. The Buddha himself is sometimes referred to as “bright moon who illumines the world”.

In Zen Buddhism the full moon represents not only enlightenment but it’s used in paintings to evoke spiritual messages.

Here’s an example:

This is a painting by a Japanese monk Hakuin showing a monkey trying to grasp the reflection of the moon on the water.

The explanation for the scene:

“Misperceiving reality, the monkey fixates on an illusion. The reflection in the water (like everything else) depends on a constellation of conditions. The instant the moon sets, or other conditions change, the reflection will disappear. It has no independent existence. Still, we cling to the things we have and strain for the things we want. Suffering ensues. The Buddhist concept of delusion encompasses mistaken views, ignorance, self-deception, and mental illness”.

Coinciding with Buddhism incorporation, the Heian period was a time where art and poetry was the main theme in Japanese society. A festival termed tsukimi or moon viewing became popular where aristocrats would gather under the full moon of autumn to observe it and write poetry.

Tsukimi is still celebrated to this day and the Japanese prepare special food for this festival as tsukimi dango and moon cakes. The day for celebration falls on either September or October.

(Tsukimi dango or moon dumplings)

Yeesh finally done!

If you actually read all of this I applaud you as this is honestly way too long 😂😂 but it’s an extremely brief overview so I’ll link the sources I used if you would like to read more as I left a few details out.

Sources for Tsukuyomi-no-Mikoto:

1-https://symbolsage.com/tsukuyomi-japanese-god/

2-https://www.timelessmyths.com/gods/japanese/tsukuyomi/

Sources for Tsuki-no-Usagi:

1-https://dekanta.com/rabbits-moon-japan-celebrates-autumn/amp/

2-https://mingeiarts.com/blogs/celebration-of-mingei-journey-through-japan/tsukino-usagi-the-moon-rabbit-beautiful-center-of-water-rabbits-selfless-and-making-mochi-on-the-moon

Sources for Blood Moon:

1-https://www.nihongomaster.com/blog/the-significance-of-the-moon-in-japanese-culture#:~:text=At%20the%20end%20of%20the,written%20about%20the%20blood%20moon.

Sources for Buddhism:

1-https://www.huffpost.com/entry/full-moon-zen_b_9801342

2-https://dhammakami.org/2018/08/26/the-significance-of-the-full-moon/

Additional source for Moon in Japanese art:

1-https://www.asianartscollection.com/id/Themes%3A-The-Moon-Through-the-Eras/17

Source for Tsukimi festival:

1-https://www.jrailpass.com/blog/tsukimi-harvest-moon-festival#:~:text=The%20Tsukimi%20tradition%20dates%20back,or%20compose%20poetry%20by%20moonlight.

Source for history of Japan’s name:

1-https://www.japan-experience.com/plan-your-trip/to-know/understanding-japan/japan-land-of-the-rising-sun-meaning

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ryxiez · 1 year

Text

Lazy Day

Leviathan x gn!Reader

Super Fluffy, comfort, and almost tooth rotting

This is just a short fic I made while feeling touched starved

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

You were not feeling your best today. The combination of school work and the chaotic brothers fighting all the time had your energy running low but your stress running high. Homework and tests were thrown at you left and right, almost like nobody could understand that a human couldn't comprehend this amount of work.

However, you knew just what you needed to fix burdening crisis.

*knock knock*

"What's the password." His voice called from behind the wooden door.

"The second lord... blah, blah, blah." You respond with a sigh, not wanting to play these kinds of games at the moment, no matter how many times you found it to be the cutest thing in the past.

"Fine, come on in." He said as you already had the door open, knowing that he wouldn't deny you access anyway. You were his one "true friend" after all.

You shut the door softly behind you as you entered the dark blue room. Your eyes remind half lidded while adjusting to the change in brightness and your over sized comfy clothes absorbed your whole figure. Levi didn't bother to turn around to look at you however, he stayed fixated on his gaming device in hand, playing something about fire and emblems.

"Hey Levi?" You said in a hushed voice, almost ready to fall asleep on the floor as you approached him in his classic gaming chair.

"Hmm?" He said while turning his head slightly your way, but his eyes were still glued to the action packed screen. Pressing buttons non-stop, he seemed unbothered by your presence, but on the inside he was panicking. Did he do something wrong? Did you never want to see him again?

"Can I please just cuddle with you, I need a little attention to help me rest at the moment..." You stated, getting straight to the point of your sudden visit. You didn't have the energy to beat around the bush anyways. Moving towards him, your hands spun around his gaming chair once he paused his game and finally looked at you.

Your hair was a little messy while you had the most comfortable looking outfit on. You could say he was jealous of your coziness, but he was too consumed in how cute you looked right now to even care. His heart melted and skipped multiple beats as his face became red in color.

"W- why would you come to a g- gross otaku like me? I bet I'm the least comforting person out there." He asks while he lowers his gaze, no longer looking you in the eyes.

"Levi, please don't say those things. You are the only person who can make me feel better right now... so please?" You said as you fiddled with your sleeves before reaching your arms out, inviting or asking the purpled haired demon for a hug

"O- ok." He stuttered as he finally set the gaming device aside and opened his arms up for you as well. Smiling, you crawled into his lap. Your arms snaking around his waist, bringing him into a tight hug.

You may have squeezed him a bit to hard at first and broke him for a minute, but soon he wrapped his arms around you in return. Resting his chin onto the top of your head, simultaneously rubbing small circles into your back. Taking a deep breath, he finally started to relax along with you.

His face still burned red from the close contact, but the biggest smile also rested on his face. It wasn't like he was going to admit it anytime soon, but Levi enjoyed your touch very much.

He loved the way he could listen to your heart beat if he tried hard enough. He loved the way his breathing would automatically start to match yours after a while of being in each others embrace. He loved how you came to him, out of all of his other brothers, for comfort and relaxation.

But most importantly he loved you and nothing could change that.

His hand continued to trace little shapes into the small of your back as you were already off in dream land. His touch finally putting you to sleep after the long day you had.

However, he soon felt him self do the same. Sinking into the cushion of his chair, he nuzzled his check onto the top of your head, his hold on you getting tighter as he breathed in your blissful sent.

Before he knew it, he was off dreaming with you by his side. You were the royalty and he was your knight in shining armor.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

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jesterable · 10 months

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am i danganronpa posting in the year of 2023? yes. i am. anyways sdr2 will forever be one of my favorite casts of characters and i love them all dearly. so i basically just drew all of them as stylized as i could.

these were 90% done from memory except for mahiru bc i forgot what she looked like entirely besides her color scheme.

thought process for all of them under the cut in order of when i drew them

mikan: my brain went to that one sprite of her as it does. and she’s purple and honestly doesn’t have enough specific craziness to have more than one color so she’s very one-color

kazuichi: very sharp. very square. very pink as well, but just pink didn't feel right. he has to have that gross green

akane: i couldn’t see her colors being changed v much but not so much that its. too normal.

teruteru: very proud of his face. he's very oval. and still not crazy enough for many colors

hiyoko: it was a very specific vision to have her with the UGLIEST yellow hair. also i don’t like the banana shape so i tried several other pigtail shapes to be normal about

gundham: took me about 3 tries to get his drawing right. i still have a crush on him. he’s mostly magenta but i felt like that was too little so i gave him red eyes

ibuki: i am proud of her. needed her to look fucking radioactive

sonia: silly girl! she's relatively normal looking but she is not a normal lady. very :3 coded

chiaki: im sOOO proud of my color choices for her. idk why but the dull pink and blue combo is my fave. also i completely went off base with her design on purpose bc i don’t like her actual design. my girl is a GAMER. let her look like one.

mahiru: i don’t know much about her i actually had to google just her so i knew what her hair looked like. ok bowl cut you eat that up!

nagito: he’s fucking insane. don’t like how his hair looks ingame so i made it better. i also totally forgot his outfit if you couldn’t tell. love giving crazy people neon eyes

fuyuhiko: made him accidentally smaller than the rest but i think it fits. baby face... little fucker

peko: tried to make her colorful but at the same time incredibly gray. she gives gray to me. she radiates gray

monokuma: i don’t like the strictly black and white design so i might it alot more red, and just made all the extra bits bright fucking red

imposter: i didn’t know what to do with him but my brain told me to make him orange so i did.

nekomaru: originally he was just gonna be blue, but my brain was like no... give him a more prominent smile. so i did !

monomi: had to make her soo pink and silly coded... gave her a closed eye, a tongue out, and made her folded ear just tilted down a bit more.

hajime: i tried to make him the most normal looking out of all of them. he just had to be.

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viburnt · 5 months

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Some Hawks thoughts:

Keigo playing in rain puddles and drawing with crayons.

—Do you have those scented markers? The fruity ones.— He asks, laying on his tummy as he keeps coloring the drawing you printed for him. It was a racing car, he picked it himself.

You kneel to pass him a can full of markers.

— Here! You are doing a good job, Kei. That car looks very fast!

Keigo buying another Endeavor doll and all the stuffed animals his heart desires.

—How many squishmallows are too many squishmallows?— He asks, laying on a pile of pastel colored plushies. You laugh, joining him between the soft cushioned toys.

—Never enough! Do you wish to get another one?

—Can we? I'm missing a cow.— He says excitedly. You just nod and pat his head.

— Mamma is gonna get you a cow then.

Keigo staying up all night watching cartoons and reading comics.

— Kei, I got you season one and two of Adventure time. Do you need a drink? Want some blankets?— You offer, watching the pro-hero cuddling in the couch as his eyes drink every detail of his current favorite show.

—Do you think you could sit with me?— He says, patting the seat by his side. —I wanna watch this with you.

He fell asleep after finishing the whole season.

Keigo dressing up for Halloween and trick or treating with you.

—You look adorable, Kei! Want me to take your picture?— You say, holding the camera.

He decided to dress as Endeavor for Halloween, his wings carefully decorated with paper flames.

— Do you think it's OK?— He mutters a little insecure. — You know how media can be.

You kissed his cheek tenderly.

— We are doing this for you though, not for them.

Keigo eating chips and playing with “kid toys” when he is bored.

—What the hell is a fidget spinner?— Hawks says, licking of the cheesy Cheeto dust that had stuck to his fingers.

You lazily look at him, and type the name of the toy on your phone.

—Something like this. You place it between your fingers and simply make it spin.

—What? That simple? It doesn't sound very entertaining. — He remarks, munching on his second bag of chips.

— It can be for a while. Wanna try?

Keigo learning current slang and allowing himself to listen to popular music.

— What's updog? — Keigo says, making you snort.

He wonders why you are laughing, confusing your reaction with slight mockery.

— Hey, don't me mean. I'm asking because a kid said to me today.

— What. Is. Up. Dog.

—Oh- Oh, fuck- Does that mean rizz is also a joke or something?

Keigo being a person instead of a hero, picking up on your habits and implementing them as his own.

— What are you doing?

—Putting fries on my ice cream, it's yummy.

Keigo looks a little grossed out by your dessert arrangement but decides to give it a try anyways.

—Holy crap, you're right! It does taste good.

—See?

—Show me your secrets-

Wow, Keigo being enamored with life, being enamored with you.

—We should get married.

—We are already married, Kei.

—We should get married twice then.

Like my content? Comment and follow! The feedback encourages me.

#my hero academia #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami #mha hawks #hawks x reader

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hyperfreaksating · 6 months

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NEVER LEAVE ME AGAIN - 6/9

Hey Buggy simps ! I hope y'all are doing well. I juste woke up and I immediately run to my computer to do this post. I couldn't wait to post part VI ! ｡゜(｀Д´)゜｡

Usual note : English is not my native language, this is my first fanfiction ever & this is my first fanfiction ever, I just started the anime & didn't read the manga, I count on Buggy's fanbase to be indulgent ♥

Tag : FemReader x Buggy, no use of Y/n, no physical description except for hair color

Content : unexpected pregnancy, childbirth, abortion and fears about pregnancy are mentionned. Fluff with a bit of anguish because hell yeah pregnancy ?! With Buggy ???! of course you're scared. Mostly about Buggy being the sweetest with his pregnant wife. (you're not married, he calls you his wife anyway)

[ FANFICTION MASTERPOST ]

Side note: it's pretty hard to write about Daddy Bugs without being inspired by the amazing work of @writingoddess1125 ! I asked her if taking inspiration from her work was ok and I have to say she's the sweetest person ever. As promised, here I tag you ! Hope you'll enjoy the read. (づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ ♥

Grab a daddy Bugs illustration for your sake ༼ つ ಥ_ಥ ༽つ

TRIPLE THREAT - 6/9

"We're gonna have a baby."

You and Buggy were sitting beside each other on your bed, pale face, eyes wide open, looking at the wall in front of you. Buggy started to laugh nervously while your face was collapsing.

The two of you started a conversation that wasn't really one. You were both thinking out loud more than you were talking, Buggy's happiness was growing in his voice as you sinked in fear.

"I'm gonna be a dad.

- I'm gonna carry another human being in me.

- They're gonna be perfect.

- They're gonna destroy my body.

- I will teach them every stupid puns & tricks I know!

- How are we gonna handle this ?! Holy shit ! We can barely take care of ourselves !"

Saying so, you exploded in tears.

Buggy turned his head to you, surprised, before cupping your cheeks in his hands.

“Hey, babe, it’s ok. It’s a fucking big news.”

You looked at him, tears still going down your cheek. Buggy caressed your face in a tender gesture, before looking at you with a whole new serious glance.

“Reddie… You have to know… If you don’t want to keep them… I’ll understand, ok ? I knew some doctors who… Well, you know, before meeting you I sometimes had to pay for… Argh, you see what I mean.”

You nodded, not knowing exactly what you wanted right now. Your heart was full of an explosive cocktail of emotions. Fear, anguish of course. But another thing, deep inside your guts, like a primary thirst you didn’t know was here all this time. Without you realizing it, your hand covered your belly, soon joined by one of Buggy’s detached hands. He tenderly put his forehead against yours, whispering reassurance words you were craving to hear. You let yourself cry against him like this for a moment, not realizing what was happening. When you stopped sobbing, you stood up a little in bed, and looked at your belly. A wave of heat hit you by surprise. You looked back at Buggy, and saw in his eyes all the trust he put in you. But most importantly, you felt how much you actually trusted him back. Having a baby with this idiot who stole your heart wasn’t really a part of your plan, but right here, right now, you desired it more than anything in the world.

“I want it.” you whispered, almost for yourself. “I want to keep this baby, Buggy.”

Seeing how Buggy's face exploded in joy, you knew you took the best decision.

You never thought your belly could become this big.

You were almost full term and you couldn't leave your bed. To say you didn’t enjoy pregnancy would have been a gross understatement. Maybe being hit in the chest and almost dying right before learning you were pregnant didn’t help, but bloody hell, you didn't think your body could felt this heavy and hurt you this much. And fuck, you were so fucking tired. Going and taking a walk in the village felt like a marathon.

However, Buggy was amazing. When your nauseousness became insufferable, he decided to stop the boat on a small and peaceful island, and to install the circus here till the birth. He cooked every single of your meals, to be sure you wouldn't eat something bad for the baby, but also caring for every one of your weird cravings. He also managed to find a doctor for the delivery - and you were almost sure he did so without coercion. The frightened looks the poor man gave Buggy every time he came to check if your pregnancy was doing well made you doubt a little of this point.

And small moments of joy sparked your journey, too. Every time the baby moved in your belly, or every time you bought toys and stuffed animals for them. Since the plan was to go back on the sea after the delivery, you didn’t work on their room yet. You and Buggy decided they would sleep in your room until you could build them a place of their own somewhere in the ship.

This night, you were lying on your bed, embarrassed by your belly as usual. Buggy was sitting next to you, a hand on it.

“I can’t realize they’ll be here soon,” he whispered.

His eyes were full of stars. He couldn’t detach them from your round stomach. You could read pure fascination in them, like he was looking the most incredible thing ever.

You stood up a little, gasping for breath.

“Urgh, that’s weird cause - urrf ! Personally I realize it pretty well...” you grumbled.

Buggy let out a tender laugh .

You leaned in to give him a kiss, but suddenly bowed as a crippling pain struck your stomach.

Holly shit.

The baby was coming.

“Come on, come on, come on babe you can do it.”

Buggy could feel every single bone of his hand being crushed under the pressure of your grip. You were yelling insults at him, your eyes bulged and your face marked by sweat and tears but he took it all. Nothing was important for him right now, except your wellness, and the wellness of your baby.

Damn, your belly was so big. He didn’t say anything about it, not wanting to hurt you - but also not wanting to be punched in the balls, you became a little sensitive during your pregnancy. He couldn’t keep his eyes out of it. He didn't meet any pregnant woman at term in his life, so, well, maybe it was normal. But it was so fucking big…

This baby must be really huge… He thought.

Really, really huge…

A big baby… or ..

Or maybe… twins ? He swallowed in anguish.

No. No. Impossible. We can’t have two kids at once, this would be crazy. We could never handle this.

“Let’s go, Reddie, I believe in you, you’re amazing.”

He said, turning back his attention to you, chasing away this stupid idea of twins.

Three.

Three babies.

You gave birth to THREE babies.

Buggy was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, the doctor and his nurse saying they needed space. When he heard the baby's screams filling the room, he melted down in tears. A nurse held him a little package of towels, in which there was a small, round, pink, wet, crying creature. A little boy, with your red hair, and buggy’s nose.

“Come on my little treasure… come and see daddy”

Buggy whispered, grabbing his son close to him. He cradled him tenderly, tickling his chin with his thumb, eyes full of fascination for this little being.

He blinked in surprise when the nurse came back to him a few moments laters, holding him another package, containing another baby boy who was exactly identical to the one in his arms.

“T… twins ?” he stammered as the nurse put the newborn close to his brother in his arms, his eyes wide opened. “Ok.. this is… what I was worried about, but we can manage it Reddie…”

He started to say, sit in the chair, a screaming newborn laying on each arm.

“The last one is coming.” the doctor interrupted him, still taking care of you.

Buggy’s face collapsed. At this exact moment, he wouldn’t have needed any makeup to be as white as the snow.

"Holly fucking shit you must be kidding me doc" he said, his voice full of unbelief and a bit of fear.

He looked at you, a frozen grin on his face, and added with a nervous laugh :

"Damn Reddie we should use your uterus in a magic trick, you hide babies in it the same way I hide handkerchiefs in my sleeve

- KEEP YOUR FUKCING MOUTH CLOSE BUGS OR I SWEAR I'M GONNA … AREGGGGGG"

Well, you didn’t seem really open to hearing jokes at the moment. He shut up and returned to looking at his boys with adoration.

“Aaaand it’s a girl !” the doctor said, putting the last baby on your chest. Buggy looked up. You looked so tired, your hairs like a messy red cloud all around your head. On your chest was lying the last of your babies, a little girl screaming with all the force of her tiny lunges.

She didn’t look like her brothers. She had your nose, but everything else was a carbon copy of her father, wet strands of blue hairs growing here on here at the top of her head. Buggy stood up, and came back to you, your two sons in the arms. He put one of them on your chest, next to his sister, and kept the other one close to him. With his free hand, he caressed your hair tenderly while you started to cry - another kind of cry than the one you made during labor. A happy one. He leaned in and gave you a tender kiss on the forehead.

“You did it, Red’. I’m so proud of you.” he whispered, and all you could do at the moment was smile weakly. Buggy stopped caressing your head to send his hand pulling his chair next to your bed. He sat down close to you, and put your other son on your belly so you could feel his warmth. The look of you quite literally covered in babies was the most spectacular thing he ever saw. He started caressing your head again, the other hand helping the babies to stay on the bed with you.

His eyes went down to them. The girl and one of the boys fell asleep, the last one fidgeted, looking for a breast.

Three babies. Three amazing babies. Three perfect babies.

He pointed at your belly with a bit of concern.

"I hope you don't hide another one in there.

- Buggy shut up."

I really hope I didn't mess up writing pregnancy !! I took a lot of liberties in order to keep it entertaining I hope it's ok.

Next monday i'll go on a trip on another country with my wife, meaning you'll probably don't get the next part before a week...

I prepared a soft interlude to post next week ! I hope you'll like it !

#buggy the clown #buggy simp #captain buggy #buggy one piece #buggy live action #buggy x female reader #buggy x you #op buggy #buggy #buggy fanfiction #daddy buggy

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