#i always sort of processed it as like when you see a person in a dream
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hiii rose!! back with another fem reader x Minho request because I love the first one you did 🥰🫶🏼
Could you do one where fem reader is wondering the glade one day and exploring it by herself because she’s curious and still fairly new, and she ends up in the deadheads, finding the runner’s hut. Coincidentally, the runners were having a meeting inside and she’s curious so she watches them through one of the holes between the branches. The meeting is adjourned and they all leave except Minho who stays behind and continues working, she hides from them as soon as they leave the hut but stays back to watch Minho cause she lowkey has a crush.
Minho hears noises outside and gets defensive, “Who’s there?! Only runners are allowed here-” etc. but he softens when he realises it’s her. And lets her inside to show her around. LOTS of seggsual tension cause it’s only two of them in the hut and this is their first proper interaction with one another. And the rest it up to you hehehe (idm if it ends in spice or fluff) 🥰🥰
Thank you for yet another request!! this one is so cute and wholesome I literally couldn't wait to do it. I really hope you like it <33
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Soft Spot (Minho x fem!reader)
Context: Read above ^ (pre-Thomas)
Warnings: none, just fluff, sunshine!reader x grumpy!Minho if u squint
Wordcount: 2.8k (proofread, but again, if u see spelling mistakes don't be surprised)
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You'd been in the glade for about a week.
And fortunately, it only took a week for majority of the gladers to get over you being a girl. But that only really happened after Alby threatened that the next person who made any sort of advance on you would have two days in the slammer, without food or water. His rule did seem a little harsh to you, but you were thankful that his means of discipline proved to be effective because most boys practically steered clear of you from that moment on.
Every boy except for Chuck. The little shank was one of the few people in the glade to treat you like a normal person and you had to thank him for that. He showed you around the glade and told you as much as he could about it, which wasn't much because he'd been there only a month longer than you. But still, you appreciated his help nonetheless.
The next issue you needed to overcome in the glade was finding out what you were good at. Embarrassingly enough, through a process of trial and error, you found out you weren't good at a lot of things. But you were good at one thing, being a medjack.
To be fair though, there weren't a lot of qualifications for the job. You knew how to bandage people up but your best skill by far was being able to send everyone that walked in the medhut with an injury, out in a better mood than the one that they had walked in with.
You'd like to say that that was one of your greatest abilities, you cared about everyone's feelings. You were positive in negative situations, and you were always there to listen to anyone's problems and anxieties. That's probably why every glader had developed a soft spot for you. Even Gally out of all people recognized how you boosted everyone's morale and he couldn't help but respect you, along with all the efforts you made toward being someone the gladers could rely on.
So it's safe to say you were slowly becoming an important part of the glades community, but despite that, you still didn't know much about the glade. That being said, whenever you weren't in the medhut or when work got slow, you spent your time wandering the glade and areas you hadn't explored thoroughly. And today was no different.
The maze doors were closed and you had just finished eating dinner. The area you planned on visiting today was the deadheads, the place you'd been looking forward to exploring the least. It didn't help that it was already getting dark out when you set foot in the forest. Branches and leaves crunched under your feet as you walked further, and a crisp breeze traveled through the air making you shiver.
You didn't quite know why the deadheads creeped you out so much. I mean, maybe it was the name. Like seriously, deadheads? Really? They couldn't have chosen anything that sounded slightly less intimidating?
So the name was definitely a contributor. But it's not exactly like there were any animals or any monsters in the woods, nothing that should prove to be any sort of threat. Regardless, something about it still made the hair on your arms in the back and the back of your neck prick up for some reason.
Before you could convince yourself that you'd visit the deadheads another day, you heard a noise. It was a voice, but it sounded like it was coming from further into the woods.
Out of curiosity, you followed the direction where the noises you heard seemed to be coming from and eventually, you came across a poorly built hut made out of branches and wood, held together by string and cement.
You could tell you weren't supposed to be there, or have found this place to begin with. It was concealed well by the forest but somehow you stumbled upon it anyway. Against your better judgment, you decided to walk further towards it to try and hear what was being said by those inside better.
"What do you mean you found nothing new?" Minho asks irritatedly to someone else in the hut. Your heart skipped at hearing Minho's voice and you cursed at yourself for how you subconsciously reacted to hearing his voice.
It was hard to believe that it's only been your first week in the glade and you'd already started developing feelings for Minho, a boy you've only talked to once. You couldn't help but think it was stupid that you liked him because you barely knew him, but then again it was hard not to find yourself crushing on him. He's held in such high regard by all of the gladers and he's the main person looking for a way out of the maze for everyone.
Also come on, with a build like that, anyone could find themselves daydreaming about him.
"Shuck Minho, what do you want me to say? I'm sorry that I explored areas we already explored and didn't find anything?" You heard another voice pierce the air and you could recognize it as Bens. You stepped closer to the hut, avoiding stepping on anything that could blow your cover and peeking out through one of the branches that the walls of the hut consisted of. Thankfully it had gotten dark so no one would be able to see you peeking in.
You could see Minho, Ben, and two other runners inside. Ben and Minho were standing up, and it was clear they were in the middle of an argument. You weren't able to recognize the other gladers but they were sat down at a large round table which had scattered papers and- a scaled-down model of the maze? Okay, you definitely weren't supposed to be there.
"Minho come on. How much longer are you going to keep denying it?" Ben asked again in response to Minhos silence. You suddenly felt guilty about eavesdropping on a conversation like this because you had a feeling that what they were talking about definitely wasn't meant to be heard by you or anyone else in the glade.
"There has to be a way out, I know there is-" Minho starts, trying to calm himself, but he gets cut off again by Ben once more.
"Seriously? Because it doesn't look like there is," Ben said with a cruel laugh as he exasperatedly threw his hands up before speaking again, "Just face it, we're shucking stuck here."
"Slim it alright, Ben?" Minho shouts while slamming his fist on the table which definitely makes Ben and the others jump slightly. "You know what, just get the shuck outta here. Meeting adjourned or whatever," Minho finished with a sigh.
"Minho come on," Said one of the two other runners who had now stood up.
"No, it's fine. I just need some time to think, alright? It's getting late anyways." Minho explained and after seeing his expression, you're assuming neither Ben nor the rest of the runners had any hope of getting through to Minho tonight so they began making their way to the door of the hut.
Suddenly, you remembered that you weren't even supposed to be there. You quickly hid behind a nearby tree and waited to hear the runners walk off. As their footsteps grew more and more faint, the coast was clear.
You should've walked away then. You should've understood that you'd already intruded on enough and heard way too many things that you shouldn't have, but part of you wandered back to your spot standing near the door of the hut.
You tiptoed closer to the slits in the hut wall, looking at Minho as he fiddled with papers and checked them with the model of the maze that you're assuming that he and the other runners had made.
You were so interested in watching, and kinda sorta stalking Minho, that you shifted your weight on one of your feet and accidentally stepped on a twig, snapping it in half during the process.
Oh, shuck.
The noise the twig made after breaking in two was nothing short of loud and it definitely gained Minho's attention.
You backed away from the hut quickly as loud footsteps approached the door of the hut, "Hey, who's there!? Only runners are allowed over here!" Minho says angrily as he reaches the doorknob and twists it.
His gaze is hard as he opens the door but once he sees you standing on the other side of it, his gaze softens. His jaw unclenches, and his body unstiffens as you stare at him, scared out of your mind that he might yell at you more.
"I'm so sorry, I really didn't mean to eavesdrop. I mean- I didn't hear anything I just-" You could barely say more than two words without stuttering, and thankfully Minho cut you off before you could embarrass yourself more.
"It's fine, don't worry about it," Minho sighed while leaning against the doorframe with his foot propping the door open. He crossed his arms before he brought one of his hands up to the back of his neck, rubbing it while he spoke again, "Sorry if I scared you," He added while giving you a genuine look and a soft apologetic smile that made your cheeks redden.
"Oh- no, it's okay," You say while crossing your arms and clearing your throat, "Cool model you got there. I'm guessing that it's related to the maze out there right?" You ask, nodding your head behind Minho and to the maze model sitting on the table, and you regret ever having said anything the second the words come out of your mouth. Why couldn't you just mind your own shucking business?
"Oh shuck." Minho mutters while looking behind his shoulder and then back at you, "Sorry it's just uh, you really weren't meant to have seen that. But I'm guessing that's not the only thing you've seen or heard tonight is it?" Minho asked you.
"Well, I might've heard a couple things," You lie, trying to avoid eye contact with Minho but you can tell he's giving you a look, "Alright I might've heard a lot, but I really didn't mean to. I'm sorry," You finally reply.
"It's okay." Minho sighed, "Want to come inside?"
"What?" You replied a little too quickly, "I thought other gladers weren't allowed in here?" You asked with a look of confusion on your face.
"Well, I think it's a little too late to be keeping any more secrets from you." Minho chuckled, "And you don't seem like the type to go around telling everyone about this," Minho looked at you, hoping to confirm his statement.
"Right- yeah of course I won't tell anyone. Your secrets are safe with me."
Minho smirked at your response and he held the door open for you as you walked in after him. You sat down in the seat right next to Minho's and looked at him as he ran his fingers through his hair. Past his stoic expression, you could swear you saw stress mixed with exhaustion in his eyes.
"Are you alright Minho? You seem a bit stressed," You asked.
"Yeah it's just- shuck I don't know," Minho replies frustrated as he rests one of his arms on the table and pinches his eyebrows with his other hand, leaning his head down as he does so. You can tell there's something more that he wants to say but for some reason, he's stopping himself.
"Hey, it's okay," You say while putting your hand on top of his on the table. "I really don't know anything about what's going on in the maze, but I'm always here if you need someone to talk to," You continue while giving Minho a soft smile. You can swear you see a blush on his cheeks as he removes his hand from his head and looks at you.
"Alright then," Minho replies while leaning back in his chair but he begins holding back onto your hand as he continues, "I'm sure you've kinda already heard, but it's not really looking too good for us with the maze. We've discovered basically the entire thing and we still have no idea how to get out," He finished. He looked at you to see if you were even paying any attention and you looked at him eagerly, giving him an encouraging look and urging him to continue.
"And well, I don't know. I just really expected us to find a way out by now. I mean it's been two years. Two shuckin' years and we still haven't found a way out." Minho continued.
"Well, I don't think the people who made this place intended for it to be easy to get out of did they?" You replied.
"What?" Minho looked at you confused.
"I'm saying that even though it seems like there isn't a way out, doesn't mean that there isn't. And just because things aren't looking good right now doesn't mean that there isn't hope for us." You say as look up at him, "They wouldn't have just trapped us here without an exit. Regardless of that, everything that you've been able to accomplish since coming here is beyond impressive Minho. If anyone is going to be able to figure out the maze, it'll be you." You say with a warm smile while giving Minho's hand a tight squeeze.
Silence filled the room for a moment before anyone spoke, "Do you really mean that?" Minho asks with genuine concern. You can see his cheeks redden the longer you look at him.
"Of course I do Minho," You reassure him. The look in your eyes made Minho feel hopeful and appreciated as he wrapped you in a warm embrace.
You were shocked at the sudden advance but quickly reciprocated the hug. Your arms found themselves wrapped around his back while his were wrapped around your waist. Minho held you tightly and firmly, almost as if he was afraid you could slip away if he ever loosened his grip.
"It's okay. It's all going to be okay," You cooed softly into Minho's ear while rubbing his back.
After a moment longer, he pulled away, looking at you silently. You practically held your breath as he took one of his hands away from your waist and brought it up to your face. He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear and your heart was going a million miles per hour as he did so.
Suddenly you felt the temperature in the room increase drastically. Thick tension filled the air, it was a mix of longing and desire and it was itching at you. You couldn't help but feel a burning sense of eagerness, and as you looked into Minho's eyes, you could tell he felt it too.
Minho's eyes lingered on your lips, and almost as if it were an instinct, you both leaned in, his lips merging with yours.
As he kissed you, it was as if time stopped. The only thing that mattered at that moment was you and Minho and how heavenly it felt to be kissed by him. It made both of you forget about everything else that was going on in your hectic lives. You could only remember how Minho held you, how he made you feel so safe and secure, and especially how his lips felt on top of yours.
You moved your hands and wrapped them around his neck as he kept one of his arms around your back and the other on your cheek. You couldn't help but melt into his touch as he pulled you closer to him.
Minho pulled away from your lips first, pressing his forehead on yours as he spoke, "Thank you," he murmured, and rather than replying, you put your lips on his once more.
As he kissed you again, he was gentle and he held you carefully as if you were so fragile that with one wrong move, you could break. Minho felt nothing but loved and cared about whenever he was with you. You were the only person who made him feel hopeful and optimistic about being trapped in a maze. He felt motivated by the idea of being able to find a way out of the maze, if not for him, then for you and everyone else living in the glade.
The kiss became more passionate and heartfelt as it intensified. Being held and loved by him was better than anything you'd ever felt before, and you could already tell that you'd gotten addicted to Minho and how he made you feel. You wanted to stay there forever. It didn't matter if the world began to crumble around you, as long as you were with Minho you felt safe.
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All right thats it yallllllll. I think this may have been my favorite one to make so far, I just love how wholesome it turned out. I thought I should take a lil break from all the smut and spice anyways 😪
But seriously I hope you guys like this as much as I do!! I love reading and working on all of your requests and I really hope you guys continue to send me them!!!! It genuinely makes me happy knowing you guys like my writing so much <33
BTW THANK YOU GUYS FOR 40 FOLLOWERS!!!!! i really cant thank you guys enough for how nice you've all been and your compliments mean the world to me!
#the maze runner#tmr fandom#minho the maze runner#minho tmr x reader#tmr#tmr fanfic#minho tmr#minho fic#x reader#minho x reader
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face
#omniscient reader's viewpoint#omniscient readers viewpoint#orv#kim dokja#kdj#SO... i ended up not making this 1 literally faceless but this is sorta inspired by how i personally interpreted the face censorship#i always sort of processed it as like when you see a person in a dream#like you know who they are in the moment and you dont necessarily realize if its indistinct? but you cant recall it once you wake#anywaysss i think im starting to get a handle on drawing this mfer so thats a relief for me
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who up seeing their disorder in a fictional character but feel like its not their place to put a name on it
#id have to be waterboarded before i can talk abt how i see a lot of my adhd and personality in mitsumi iwakura let alone post it#idk how to talk abt this without feeling like im talking over or invalidating ppls experiences relating with a character#someone was talking abt how ppl tie laios' autism to special interest and social difficulties but not much else which kinda flattens it#and then went into a respectful in depth analysis of other autistic behaviour that laios exhibits and it wasnt phrased meanly#its fascinating and important to me to hear someone explain a little bit abt traits that they recognized and often go overlooked#because it does help me learn more about it. but i think thats also where hesitancy kicks in when it comes to depicting it accurately#like i have adhd and some of my adhd symptoms overlap with autism (time blindness and pattern seeking behaviour) but that only means#it feels familiar to me even without having autism. on top of that traits arent always cleanly determined as being /caused/ by#a disorder. to understand my environment i compare it to something unrelated but similar to make it more familiar and for the longest time#i thought that was a personality thing and not an information processing thing since i loved playing pretend in my head as a kid#so if you make a character who experiences that hoping to reach people that also experience that and tell them its not weird or#smth youre making up like. thats the goal. ppl who dont get it arent expected to it just means it doesnt cater to them but it helps them#become familiar to it yk? since i dont have autism myself i dont feel confident i can depict it properly or explain it in my own words#but that doesnt mean im trying to dismiss it or try and cut it out completely.. ill just leave the floor open to someone who /can/#a lot of issues around fanon depictions are when smth is baselessly popularized or a characters personality and behavior is flattened#especially to fit them into a trending meme. its harmless and its supposed to be for fun but it gets tricky when you drag things that#need to be carefully explained beforehand or else it gets lost in translation. like that tweet abt 'hyperfixating' on cooking pasta#once it becomes popular language usually the original meaning is left out for the sake of simplifying it for everyone that when it#circles back theres a sort of hesitancy like. am i using it the way it was intended or am i unknowingly using the popularized version of it#actually thats probably why i felt wrongfooted during diagnosis bc it felt like i was misusing the words i heard to describe what i felt#i /know/ i see a lot of myself in mitsumi because our minds are always somewhere else and we tend to put good faith first and for me#that personal connection is enough. but idk it feels like its always gonna have to be 'palatable' first before i can talk abt it openly#mad respect to writers and creators who stick to their story even if theres the looming fear of ppl misinterpreting it and letting them#have it.. its been almost 2 weeks and i am so close to deleting that m3 dunmeshi drawing bc ppl keep saying chilchuck wouldnt have 200 HP#IT LITERALLY SAYS I MADE IT WHILE WATCHING EP 1. I USED EARTHBOUND LOGIC AND I WASNT EVEN TAKING IT SERIOUSLY CHILL#yapping
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long tag ramble below u have been warned
#ok i feel like i should say Something before i start being active again#but i dont want it to be a Statement which is why i’m putting it in the tags#(also bc i procrastinated doing this for weeks so i know this is a very stale topic by now#but i also haven’t been on tumblr literally at all so this is 100% my organic authentic opinion lmao)#so read if you gaf and ignore if you don’t#anyway: george def could’ve done more to ensure she was comfortable#and as someone who has also gotten in over my head with older men and regretted it#her hurt is valid and i’m deeply sorry she feels the way she does about that night#but with that said i see no reason to believe george Should have known how she really felt#or that he deliberately took advantage of either her youth/inexperience or her discomfort#and that’s the most important thing for me— he fucked up and misread a situation but that doesn’t make him an evil person#and i hope they can both move on and grow and heal#as for my future in the fandom: i honestly dunno how active i’ll be going forward#i was already becoming pretty disconnected so this might’ve just sped up the process? i’m tired of being put through the wringer#but i also don’t really have a fandom to replace this so i might just continue casually participating in the way i have been#either way rest assured i will never become a rabid anti. that shits embarrassing#i got HORRIBLE drolo rsd the other day when tommy’s mom needed clout and vagued him so like if nothing else. droloisms are forever#also as a last thing— this feels kinda silly and self centered to say but i will anyway#sorry for not opening up my blog as a forum for discussion again the way i did with the drituation#i know i helped a lot of people sort out their feelings and that was (and is) really really important to me#but it also tanked my mental health (mostly as a result of the fallout and not the act itself but still)#plus my life irl was pretty stressful at the time when everything was first going down#so i just didn’t feel up to putting myself through that again#but i’m sorry if anyone wanted to discuss w me but wasn’t able to#anyway. i think that’s all i have to say!#i don’t want to turn this into a capital D discussion but as always my askbox and dms are open#love you all tons! i hope you’re having a good day 🫂🫶#bella talks
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gojo and vibrator overstim??? he pleasures u like crazy after u guys go to a party and he sees a lot of guys checking u out, but instead of taking it out on u he decides he just wants to worship u😭😭 and he makes u cum a lot of times dkslmds idk
When your girlfriend is too hot for her own good ft. satoru gojo x reader
this is the longest thing i’ve ever written i absolutely loved this prompt..
contains: fem reader, established relationships, whipped!gojo, jealousy, perv!npc’s, vibrators, sooooo much dirty talk, praise, like a ridiculous amount, body worship, cockwarming, overstimulation, mating press, multiple orgasms, no condoms in sight, breeding kink if u squint, squirting for the first time, domestic af
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔
After Gojo finished zipping up your dress and hooking the clips at the top to secure it for you, he slapped your ass, grabbing the fat in his palms, “Goddd, i’m so fucking lucky,” he sighed dramatically.
Sliding his large hands around to the front of your body and cradling your hips, resting his head on your shoulder while he admired your current look.
Makeup applied just right, not a glitter of highlight out of place, hair styled in a way that gave his intruding eyes free roam to admire back of your neck, dress fitted perfectly to your body, accentuating every curve and dip of your perfect stature.
Opting to wear your shorter heels because knowing satoru, you two would be at this “party” for a very long time.
Everyone always wanted to talk to Satoru every time he showed himself in public. It was no suprise, considering his popularity throughout the jujutsu world from his incredible technique and strength; maybe a little from his blunt and childish personality too; and non jujutsu sourcerers we’re quick to swarm him from just his handsome looks alone.
Eyes that lit up any room, a perfectly symmetrical and slim face that looked like it had been hand chiseled from the finest stones, and his snowy white hair to top it all off. Satoru always getting asked the same question from girls and guys alike, flirtation laced in their voice when they spoke, “So, is that your natural hair color??”
His height sure didn’t help in making him any less invisible than he already wasn’t.
You two didn’t attend parties or anything of the sort too frequently though, usually only making an appearance at certain events when you had to.
This time it was a little different. Shoko had insisted on Gojo trying out this new club she started to frequent, rambling about how the ambience was just perfect; of course she didn’t fail to mention the high quality liquor they housed in the process.
Satoru hadn’t been to a club in a minute, since he started going out with you. Not seeing the need to anymore.
He only went to clubs before to let off steam after a particularly hard mission, letting some stranger dry hump him on the dance floor, or drinking some too-sweet non alcoholic drink with shoko at the bar, complaining about his day.
He never took any of the strangers home though, he just needed to get out of his head, letting the lights, shitty blaring music, and sweaty bodies overstimulate his mind for a night.
Then he found you. Perfect, sweet, little you. He found that he much rather would wrap his arms around you in the comfort of his quiet, familiar home, and lay on your breasts while you ran your fingers through his hair.
Nails raking comfortingly over his scalp as the stressors of his day melted from his brain. Why was he even stressed again?
See? This was a hundred times better than the club.
But when shoko was insistent, she was thoroughly insistent.
When you stepped through the thick doors of the establishment, guided by satoru’s comforting palm on your lower back, you couldn’t help but notice this felt a lot more lax than what you were expecting.
Music not overbearing, people mingling with each other, and weirdly seeing a lot of familiar faces in the crowd.
“Satoru, where are we right now? I thought this was a club.” you asked, tilting your head up at him while he led you in the direction of the bar, to get you something to loosen you up; he knew how you got antsy at these things sometimes.
“Ah, I didn’t explain very well did I?” he giggled, “Thisss,” gojo paused to splay his arm out in front of him, “Is where Jujutsu sourcerers come to relax!” that explains why you saw so many familiar faces…
“I think that’s why Shoko loves this place so much, people tend to stay away from her here..” pursing his lips pretending to think, “She can be quite intimidating when you know her..” he finished, shaking his head dramatically like he was trying to forget a scary memory.
“Anyways, how are you feeling sweet thing? wanna get a drink first?” Your handsome boyfriend asked you, hand still resting against your back as he gave you a little smile.
“Yeah I uh-“ looking over Gojo’s shoulder before continuing, “I think that blonde guy is trying to get your attention.” pausing your response to your boyfriend as you tipped your head forward, signaling behind gojo.
He turned his neck, shoulders perking up when his eyes focused on the man, “Yooo! How’s it goin!” Gojo waved his free hand at the man as he chirped cheerfully at him. “Was sent on a mission with him once when i was a third year, some ‘rival school bonding’ activity.” he explained.
“Looks like it worked,” you laughed, bringing your hand down to pat him on his firm behind, “You should go talk to him, it sounds like you haven’t seen him in a while.” Encouraging him, starting to slip out from his hold.
“You sure baby?” he asked, slightly pouting, not wanting you to feel awkward or neglected by yourself. God satoru was so sweet. You laughed at his antics before smiling fondly, reassuring him, “I’ll be okay toru, jus’ gonna go make myself at home on a bar stool.”
Gojo gripped your waist, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he started off for his old acquaintance. Your heels clicked on the ground as you made your way over to the bar in the other direction satoru had gone off in.
You ordered yourself a drink, something sweet, and not too strong, just something to relax your nerves as you were now by yourself in a space you’ve never been before.
Just when you started thinking you should go make small talk with someone there, a tall man walked up to you, noticing the few buttons on his shirt undone. For some reason this made him look less intimidating; you were already walking around like there was a stick up your ass, so seeing someone look a little more laid back eased your nerves a bit.
He introduced himself, giving your figure a quick one over that you missed as you stuck your hand out for the man to shake, introducing yourself politely back.
The two of you got lost in conversation, talking about how harboring your jobs were, the only common subject you thought of to talk about with the stranger.
Gojo had made himself comfortable on the halfmoon sofa adjacent to the bar, conversing with a small crowd now, all catching up and laughing with each other.
After maybe half an hour or so, when the conversation was diverged away from him, he averted his gaze to you, watching you giggle at something the dark haired man said.
He didn’t recognize him, but he did recognize the hungry look he had on his face. The same one gojo had whenever he looked at you.
You looked completely oblivious to the man’s gaze as you continued ranting, the alcohol obviously having some affect on you, looking so relaxed while you talked to him.
Gojo couldnt take his eyes off of the scene in front of him for the life of him. People around gojo’s voices starting to become distorted at he channeled 110% of his focus onto you.
Giving a quick glance around the room and catching two guys staring at your ass. The way you were perched on the stool, body leaned into the counter a bit, making your back arch, poking your backside out in association, made you look incredibly seductive.
One of the men elbowed the other in the ribs, making him look at the sight he was witnessing; that of which being your body.
Gojo stared at them like if he tried hard enough, he could make them go blind with his mind.
Satoru would never in a million years stop you from wearing something you wanted out of the house; scandalous or not.
He loved seeing you feel good in your body, so if that meant wearing nipple pasty’s and a fishnet bodysuit out of the house? so be it, he would be in his rightful place on your hip the whole time.
But right now, he really wished everyone would stop looking at what was his.
He knew you looked good, you always did, but that didn’t give these sleazeball’s the right to oggle you like a piece of meat.
Bringing his attention back to you and the man you were conversing with, he noticed his hand had placed itself on the side of your stool, dangerously close to your thigh.
His lip twitched at the thought of his filthy hands touching your sacred body.
Giving a one over to the people around him once more and realizing that a lot more than just the man you were talking to and the 2 sluts objectifying you in the corner were passing glances at you.
“Gojo? you good?” His old acquaintance asked skeptically when he realized the veins looked like they were threatening to burst in gojos hands as he squeezed at the arm of the sofa.
Satoru stood up without saying so much as a goodbye to the people he was with, not caring about how rude or disrespectful he came off, as he quickly made his way over to your side of the room.
“Haha, I agree,” the man laughed a little to hard at something you said that truthfully wasn’t all that funny, “Mind if I get you another drink cute thing? Looks like you finished that one.” he flirted.
Finally picking up at his flirtations you started to reply, “Oh! uh.” uncomfortably shifting in your seat at the pet name, suddenly way to aware of his hand on your stool next to your leg. When did it even get there?
Looking over to where Satoru was supposed to be, eyes widening slightly, when the familiar face was nowhere to be found.
“Sorry cute thing, did i scare ya?” gojo mimicked the man across from you, staring daggers into his eyes with his intimidating orbs as he wrapped his arms around your body, large frame towering behind you.
“Satoru! jus’ figured you went to the bathroom or somethin’” you said, rubbing his hand that was placed on your torso with your thumb affectionately.
“Uh we were having a conversation.” the man interrupted your affections to one another, not listening to Satoru’s very obvious hints that you were not on the market. He figured he would make it a little more obvious for the strangers dense little head.
“Sorry buddy, i’m not feeling too well right now, so I need my cute little girlfriend to take me home.” emphasizing the nature of your relationship as he pouted his lip fakely at him.
“Not feelin good toru?” you asked, turning your neck around to look at him, face full of concern.
He felt his heart skip a beat at your worried tone. “Yeah ‘m sorry baby, you looked like you were havin a good time, but I really wanna get outta here.” overwhelming eyes glancing over the room, scaring off each and every last person’s ravenous stares on your body.
You stood up, smoothing out your dress as gojo fell into position like always, hand on the slope of your back as he crouched down to lay his head on your shoulder dramatically, trying to get you to baby him.
It worked, your hand coming up to ruffle his hair, “It’s alright toru, my conversation here was just wrapping up.” you referred to the man who unbeknownst to you was trying to come onto you throughout this whole interaction.
Sticking his tongue out childishly at the man when you weren’t looking, the two of you started for the door.
Gojo never got self conscious about himself, but you were different. He didn’t realize how much he really hated people looking at you like you were nothing but a body until you were in situations like these.
He wasn’t scared you would leave him for someone else but…ok maybe he was slightly scared you would leave him for someone else.
He’s the great Gojo Satoru!! The strongest sorcerer of the modern age!! People think he wasn’t aware of how obnoxious his personality got sometimes, but he was. He was aware of it being a turn off for many people.
He never thought that you would feel like that about him though, but seeing all of these admittedly attractive people who possibly had less annoying tendencies than him made him hold your body against him tighter.
“Are you feeling alright satoru? you never wanna leave these things early.” you asked, coming to stand in front of him when you finally exited the building. Standing on your tippy toes to reach his forehead, placing the back of your hand against it to feel if he was coming down with something.
Gojo relished in your warm hand against his soft skin, closing his eyes at the contact and groaning when you pulled away. “M fine, people just have fucking staring problems.” he mumbled under his breath.
“Huh?” you asked confused when he didn’t elaborate. Gojo grabbed your hand, dragging you in the direction of the car.
The walk was a short one. When you finally arrived, he opened got door for you, helping you into the car as he shut it behind you, walking around to his respective side of the car and sliding in before turning on the ignition, pulling out onto the dark street.
You rubbed your hand on his thigh comfortingly when he stayed silent.
“You love me right?” He spoke up, uncharacteristically insecure.
“You big dope, did you get jealous watchin me talk to someone else all night? You left me first remember?” hand coming up briefly to pinch his cheek, making him groan, before dropping back down to his thigh.
“Course I love you.” you admitted truthfully. 
“Ugghhhhh” gojo groaned loudly, slightly tipping his head back, being sure to keep his eyes on the road when he did so, “but he was practically fucking you with his eyesss.” drawling our his words childishly, pouting over at you.
“He what?” you asked in bewilderment.
“So oblivious baby, you need to be more careful, someone besides your big strong boyfriend might try to eat you up one day” grimacing slightly as he shook his head at your lack of picking-up-when-people-wanna-fuck-you radar.
“What kinda of weird things are you imagining in that head of yours, huh?” letting out a short laugh at his ridiculousness, retracting your hand back into your own lap.
“I’m seriousss,” he whined, glancing over at you, “He was lookin at you like he could fuck you better than I do.”
You almost choked on your spit at his words, “Satoru gojo!” you chastised at his bluntness.
Now it was his turn to drop his hand onto your thigh, squeezing the fat there when he spoke, “I’ll prove him wrong when we get home, gonna show him how much better I can make you feel.” He said, determination, laced in his voice.
“Satoru I don’t even remember his name.” You replied honestly, not denying that his promise sounded very intriguing though, still internally scoffing at his childishness in the current situation.
“Bet he remembers yours.” Making a point to slide his big hand higher up your thigh.
“Bet he memorized every inch of your body too, fucking undressing what’s mine with his eyes, who does he think he is.” gripping your thigh tightly as he got angry at his own words.
You gasped quietly, thighs squeezing together almost unnoticeably at gojos rough treatment of your leg.
"T-toru you're making stuff up again. You stuttered out, watching his jaw clench under the pressure of his teeth pressing tightly together inside his closed mouth.
Satoru ignored your words completely as he kept voicing his thoughts, "He wouldn't have any idea how to touch you like I do."
"Satoru, please." You begged, starting to feel yourself grow wet at his dirty words.
"What is it princess? The thought of me touchin' you getting you all excited?" Finally stopping his chatter about the unwanted man.
"Yes, please for the love of god stop talking." you gripped his wrist connected to his hand that was still tightly on your thigh.
"But I love making you feel good baby, wanna make you feel good all the time." He wines. You drop your gaze down to his lap and notice the massive tent in his pants, twitching every so often.
He really wasn't lying when he said he loves making you feel good. Figuring that part of the culprit for his huge boner was gojo's own words, working himself up for no reason. Not like you were complaining, as it was sounding like you were about get the best dick of your life soon.
Satoru had nothing to prove to anyone in your eyes, but in his, he had multiple faces burning into his retinas of people from the club that he wanted to line up in front of his king bed, and make them watch while he showed them how to properly treat someone like you.
"You make me feel so good satoru, dont think anyone's denying that, but ur makin' me feel all needy, please shut ur mouth till we get home. Don't know if I can take it." You whine, rubbing your thumb on the back of his hand.
He giggled, retracting his hand from your thigh, opting to place his elbow agasint the center console, grinning as he shut himself up, cock still throbbing for attention against his zipper.
The rest of the car ride was silent, air palpable, and thick with the need you both had for each other. When the car came to a park in his garage, he calmly slid out of the car, shutting the door behind him. Walking at a steady pace over to your side of the car while you waited patiently, hands crossed in your lap as you swallowed harshly.
When he slung your door open his hand came into your view, placing your palm in his larger one, he assisted you out of the car, shutting the door behind you. He let you walk in front of him, trailing closely behind you.
Getting your keys out of your purse, you flipped through them, trying to find the one that led to satoru's garage door, shaky hands trying to steady themselves when you felt Gojo press himself against your back.
You felt his clothed boner press against your ass first, followed by his hands sliding over your lower stomach, eyes rolling back at the feeling. Then you felt his plush lips against your neck, leaving soft kisses down the sensitive skin as you fought your brain to work properly so you could insert the key into the door and get on with him.
He whimpered your name into your neck, followed by a "hurry" right when you successfully cracked the door open.
Gojo swiftly spun your body around, pinning you against the door and shutting it in the process, pressing his chest to yours as he assulted your lips with kisses, moaning against you.
He slotted his thick thigh between yours, forcing a whimper out of your mouth as he undid the hooks to your dress on the nape of your neck.
"Bedroom" you managed to get out in between kisses. He started removing his tie, quickly undoing the top 2 of his dress shirt buttons, and pulling you backwards with him when he started for the bedroom.
The light of the night seeping in from his floor to ceiling window wall being the only light the two of you had to be able to navigate through his large house.
You whimpered his name into his mouth, cursing when he slid your zipper down your back while you made your way to the bedroom. You kicked the fabric off your body and he leaned down to scoop you up in his arms, now having unobstructed access to your body.
Wrapping your legs around his hips, panty-clad cunt grinding into the rough material of his pants when you bounced along his body as he walked. "Need you," he muttered against your lips between kisses. while he reached a heavy hand around your back and expertly snapped off your bra.
Bumping you both into the wall quite a few times, easing the tension a bit and making you both giggle into the kiss, before he finally made it to the destination of his bedroom.
Plopping your back down on the bed, legs still tightly wrapped around his hips. Gojo started needily humping against your heat, hand coming down to undo his belt quickly.
"Fuck me satoru." you moaned into his mouth. Gojo had to slap himself mentally at that, gaining a sliver of his rational brain back. He had something he wanted to do before he fucked you good.
"I will baby, I will. don't worry" gojo left his promise all over your lips.
Finding his zipper with ease he slid the metal down, leaning back from your frame to try and slide his pants off, proving to be a challenge when your legs stayed wrapped tightly on his hips.
"Gotta let me go so I can get ready for you princess." He smirked. Your eyes were lidded, face flushed, and lips swollen from his lips assault. Breathing heavily you whispered out an "ok" before dropping your legs against the mattress.
"Such a good girl." Gojo praised, sliding his pants and boxers off in one swift motion, long curved cock flopping up against his abdomen with a wet "plp" sound from he dripping tip. His cock looked so angry, the tip a darker shade of pink than it usually was from how aroused he was right now. Nothing but the thought of pleasing you on his brain.
You pressed your knees together in front of him, trying to relive some of the neediness you were feeling between your thighs at the sight of his thick cock. Your eyes flitted between his deliciously curved member, and his beautiful eyes when he leaned over you again, sliding his fingers underneath the fabric of the panties resting on your hip, and sliding them off of you.
Satoru groaned out loud when the cloth peeled away from your cunt. The part that cupped your mound sticking to your skin from how your wetness had seeped through in anticipation.
"Haven't even done anything yet and you're so fucking wet." he moaned, balling up the panties in his hand and throwing them in the pile he was creating, currently made up of just his pants and boxers, making a mental note to keep that specific pair to himself after this.
Undoing the last couple of his dress shirt buttons he let it drape off his large frame sensually, joining the mess on the floor, leaving him completely nude. You yourself were not fairing any better, having been stripped naked in the hall, expensive dress forgotten somewhere in the living room.
Placing his hands on your kneecaps, he spread you open for him, staring hungrily down at your cunt, shaking his head at his disbelief when he saw the slick practically gushing out of your little hole, clenching around nothing.
"Please do something." You begged. Gojo didn't waste any more time, he wrapped his hands around your hips, and placed his back against the headboard in a sitting position, plopping you down on top of him, smaller hands pressing themselves against his pecs.
His cock throbbed, hovering right under your pussy. If he just thrust his hips up slightly, it might accidentally slip in.
"Want you to face away from me, and sit yourself on my dick." He requested, "Dont worry about movin' jus want you to take it all in yourself." He comforted.
Gojo never got tired of watching you struggle to take in his ridiculous size, little moans and cries slipping out between your lips as your face scrunched in pleasure, tears forcing their way down your cheeks. The latter reaction he unfortunately wouldn't be able to witness this time, as you started into action.
Turning your naked chest away from him; much to his dismay; bracing your feet on the bed, one hand coming back to stabilize yourself against his hard abs while you used the other to align his impossibly hard cock with your tiny hole.
Rubbing the tip and his precum alike against your enterance, before your other hand came down to hold your weight against his abs, cock sliding into you with litte resistance thanks to how wet you both were.
"F-fuuuuck 's so big," You whined, tipping your head back and squeezing your eyes shut at the stretch. Gojo bit his lip, hand gripping bruisingly into your hip, relishing in your warm walls constricting around his cock.
"I knoww, takin it so good though princess, just like you always do," He praised, rubbing his fingertips against your skin as he kept talking you through it. Both of you letting out a groan together when you finally bottomed out on his cock.
You let your weight off of your feet and hands when Satoru placed his own on the bed, slinging your legs over his thighs, and making you hold your legs open for him as he placed kisses to the back of your head, "Did so good baby, took the whole thing so fucking good." His words made you clench around him, a feeling he didn't miss, as he smiled against your scalp.
"Satoru...move," you pleaded, noticing how he was staying still. He told you not to move, so you didn't, but you didn't know if you could take it if he only wanted to cockwarm you right now.
"Patience baby," Your body moved with his slightly when he leaned his body sideways, cracking open the bedside drawer and pulling out a baby blue bullet vibrator, clicking the toy on to make sure it was charged, before clicking it beck off when it successfully vibrated strongly between his fingers.
"Gonna make you feel so good princess," Confused at the brief buzzing sound you heard, about to voice your question when you felt the buzzing this time.
Gojo had pressed the vibrator against the inside of your thigh, slowly dragging it up and down your skin teasingly.
“T-toru- what are u doin?” you asked in a small voice, legs twitching, threatening to close in on themselves if it wasn’t for your hands keeping them open.
“Gonna worship you baby, just lay there n keep those legs spread for me ok?” His tall stature meant that even sitting, he still towered over you. This gave him a great view of everything.
Staring down at you he could see the side of your face; and the blush that covered it; the way your body folded, your wetness sticking against your inner thighs. Gojo was in heaven.
Using his free hand, he splayed his massive palm out right under your breast, keeping you pressed against his body.
He felt your pussy twitch around his cock steadily, feeling the heartbeat in your walls as you continued rubbing the soft silicone that coated the vibrator, over your skin.
The continuous pulsing around his shaft was making him dizzy, eyelids drooping heavily on his face, body buzzing with warmth and arousal at the situation.
His teasing finally ceased when he heard you whimper out his name sweetly, begging for the last time without words that you needed him to do something.
Placing the vibrator on its lowest setting against the hood of your clit softly, rubbing it in small circles over the nub. Gojo alternated between the latter motion and pressing it directly against your clit, pushing the hood of your clit out of the way, being forced to make room for the toy.
Your stomach clenched, body jerking in on itself when the toy touched a particular part of your pussy, and the stimulation became a little too much.
“o-oh my go-d toruuu,” you whined. Gojo’s watchful eyes never left his ministrations on your clit, absolutely enthralled with the scene in front of him. “looks like that feels so fucking good,” he moaned into the shell of your ear, wincing when your walls squeezed around his cock like you were trying to milk him for all he was worth.
“s-oo good f-fuck.” your breathily moans filled the air as you tipped your head back on his shoulder. He quickly started pressing little kisses all over your cheeks as you shut your eyes, letting him take care of you.
“That’s right, let go for me baby, I got you.” he softly whispered against your cheek, diverting his eyes back on your pussy. If he looked close enough he could see the way your opening squeezed around him, the sight being almost too erotic to handle.
“Keep your body against me baby,” he said before he left his hold on your torso and joined it down between your thighs with his other hand.
Using a couple thick fingers, he traced around the opening of your cunt, feeling how the soft flesh was pulled taught to make room for his girth.
“That t-ickles,” you wined, feeling him make a V shape with his index and middle fingers, rubbing them around where the base of his cock and your pussy met.
“Does it only tickle?” he asked, proving your words wrong when he pressed the vibrator harder against you, the buzzing sensation making your toes curl.
“So erotic..” he let out a little giggle, “Wish you could see this right now.” he continued, drawing little shapes on your clit and rubbing around the rim of your cunt, “Pussy is stretched to the limits while she’s huggin my cock.” he spoke, amazed.
You whined at his dirty words, silently wishing he would shut his big mouth, but not daring to say it out loud. His words not-so-secretly making you even wetter.
His cock had been leaking steadily into you throughout this entire interaction. Balls tightening with the need to release his seed inside you, to really fill you up and mark you internally as his.
Gojo closed his eyes, relishing in the intamacy, pressing his plush lips to your neck and sucking, leaving little bruises all over the expanse of your neck that he could reach.
After a while, he noticed your breath had started to pick up, cunt squeezing him continuously now instead of pulsing, “T-toru, think i-i’m gonna cum.” you whined softly, tilting your head towards him, making his raise his from his place against your neck, and stare into your eyes.
He smiled, already knowing from what your body was telling him before you spoke. “Go ahead baby, want feel you cum around my dick, you deserve it.” he spoke sweetly.
As much as he wanted to watch your pussy when it gushed out around him, right now he was so enthralled with your face. The both of you staring at each other, breathing heavily, your expression was pulled in an aroused pout, while his lips were formed in a smile.
You knew this orgasm was going to be a big one, stomach tingling with a stronger sensation than normal. Internally panicking slightly before you spoke, “f-feels d-ifferent toru.” you warned.
“Feel kinda like ur gunna pee?” he knowingly questioned. It took every molecule in his body to not cum when you nodded your head twords him, “Aww ‘s ok princess, just let it out okay? promise it’s gonna feel so fucking good.” he encouraged.
You were about to squirt. This was something he thought about in the back of his mind every time he fucked you. Always wishing that when you came, something else would come out too.
You were squirming around in his hold at the unfamiliar feeling coiling itself in your tummy. The steady buzzing and delicious circles he was keeping up on your clit only increasing the intensity of it.
Feeling yourself begin to tip over the edge, you hurried out your words, “T-toru, kiss meee, p-please,” needing him to help you through the sensation that was about to come.
“I got you, I got you.” he giggled, pressing his lips to yours, messily tonguing the inside of your mouth while your moans raised it pitch, whimpering into his cavern.
“mhm, mhmmm,” he encouraged, as he started thrusting his hips up, fucking his dick in and out of you, helping you feel even better as his tip beat repeatedly against your gspot.
Your mouth stopped cooperating, jaw going slack as you felt your orgasm start to wreck you. Eyes rolling back in your head as the waves of your high washed over you, “yesyesyes,” gojo groaned out laughing, feeling the first trickles of your squirt spray out around him.
You were moaning so loud, broke cries of his barely coherent name leaving your mouth as he quickly rubbed the vibrator back and forth across your clit.
Balls finally releasing his seed into you at the feeling and visual of your squirt absolutely drenching the sheets underneath the two of you.
He groaned into the air, breathy laughs mixing in with them while he humped each and every last rope of his cum into your womb, pressing his balls hard against your ass when he thrusted inside.
“Holy shittt,” he dragged out when he started to come down from arguably one of the best orgasms he’s ever had in his life.
“That was so fucking hot, good job baby,” bringing his attention back your face, leaving sloppy wet kisses all over your cheeks, licking up the tears that had fallen.
You looked so fucked out, chest heaving, and cunt twitching around him in the aftershocks, eyes fluttering at the intensity in which you just came.
“You did so fucking well, how did that feel?” he asked? Giving yourself a second to catch your breath before you spoke, you mumbled out, “intense.”
“Awww I bet, looked like it felt so good to let it out though, pussy almost snapped my dick off with that one.” he giggled into your cheek.
“Thank you toru, needed that.” you spoke breathlessly.
“Don’t thank me just yet sweet thing” he said. You cracked your eyes open when you felt him slide out from underneath you, situating you in the missionary position.
Gojo placed the breifly forgot about vibrator back on your oversensitive clit, making your legs squeeze around his hips as he used the tips of his fingers to guide his still hard cock back into your warmth.
“Fuck! S-satoru what are you doing?” you panicked as painful pleasure started wracking your body, trying to jerk and jolt away from the stimulation.
“J-jus came ‘m s-sensitiveee.” you whined, fat tears rolling down your face as he started a rough pace, fucking his cock into your gspot, making your words break up when you spoke.
“Cuming just once isn’t enough for my pretty babyyy, you deserve more than that,” abandoning the vibrator for a second to push your thighs against your head, and placing your ankles over his shoulders as he put you in a mean mating press.
“C-cant t-take it.” you voiced in between thrusts, pussy spasming uncontrollably around his fat cock. Once gojo had manhandled you where he wanted you, he placed the bullet back on your puffy clit, making you scream out.
You were feeling so overwhelmed, thighs burning from being pushed to the limits in flexibility, feeling his weight crush you while he bullied his cock into your drenched walls, and the toy? You swore this would be the night gojo killed you during sex.
“Just let yourself feel it baby, relax your body for me let me do allll the work.” he spoke, trying to reassure you as he dropped his gaze to where the two of you were connected, loud squelches emitting from him fucking into you at how wet you were, gojo feeling lightheaded seeing the thick ring of cum at the base of his dick.
Without warning he felt you squeeze around his length impossibly tight, feeling something spray against his abdomen, realizing you were squirting again.
“Yeaahhhh fuck, that’s what I wanted to see.” He brought back his hips before slamming them into you harder, feeling impossibly aroused seeing this new orgasm crash over you a second time.
Your moans and protests were incoherent at this point, tears and drool covering your face as he fucked you through another intense high.
Satoru started to feel himself reach his peak again but he needed to see that one more time before he allowed himself release.
“Good girl, gooooood fucking girl.” he praised at your lack of resistance when your body went lax against him.
You gave up on fighting the pleasure, really letting your brain go numb at the feeling of, well, everything. There was so much going on, his lips would be on your neck one second, tongue in your mouth the next, babbling some dirty talk you were too fucked out to comprehend.
The vibrator was being slid all over your folds with no rhythm, but it felt so fucking good.
“Cmon you can do it, one more time baby just one more time, need to feel you squirt around me, please.” he begged.
Gojo was fucking you both stupid at this point, he was drooling, feeling so fucking pussydrunk as he mindlessly thrusted his cock in and out of your wetness.
Quickly and sloppily sliding the bullet over your clit one last time before he heard you whimper out a warning of your orgasm, impressed you were still able to form words at this point.
His jaw dropped as he came with you, electricity zapping down his spine feeling you gush around him while he stuffed you full, his moans were so needy and high pitched, overstimulating himself by rolling his hips into yours, making sure your cunt swallowed every drop of his cum.
“F-fuck, loveyousomuch.” he slurred, dropping his entire weight against your folded body, making your tendons scream at the stretch.
“S-satoru..hurts.” you voiced, successfully getting him to lean back, letting your legs drop onto the sheets, thighs and toes tingling when the blood started to circulate through them again.
“God you’re fucking amazing, hope u felt as good as I did.” He murmured into your chest.
“are u kidding? almost died.” you whispered, brain still tingling while you gained your braincells back slowly.
He wrapped his strong arms around your body, keeping his softening cock snug inside you, his chest pressed against your was firmly.
You both relished in the feeling for awhile, intertwining your legs and feet together against the bed, wanting to feel this intamacy for a little longer before you ultimately had to clean up.
“So…think club guy could make you cum harder than that?” he spoke into your breasts.
Using your arms to gather all of the strength you had left, placing your sweaty hands on his cheeks, making him raise his head to look up at you, “Satoru,” you chastised, “don’t ruin this.” falling into a fit of giggles when he groaned in defeat, sending vibrations through your lungs.
#greenest flag gojo#this took like 6 hours lol#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x reader#jjk smut#gojo smut#gojo satoru#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x geto#gojou x reader#jjk gojo#gojou satoru x reader#gojo saturo#jujutsu gojo#gojo x you#gojo fluff#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru fic#jjk satoru#jujutsu kaisen satoru#satoru smut#satosugu#gojou satoru smut#satoru x suguru#jujutsu satoru#gojou satoru x you
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hi, i ireally love your work and i don't know if you've answered this before but, what kinds of studies do you do or how did you learn color theory? i wanna get better at rendering and anatomy but im having trouble TT TT
Hi! Long answer alert. Once a chatterbox, always a chatterbox.
When I started actively learning how to draw about 10 1/2 years ago, I exclusively did graphite studies in sketchbooks. Here's a few examples—I mostly stuck to doing line drawings to drill basic shapes/contours and proportions into my brain. The more rendered sketches helped me practice edge control & basic values, and they were REALLY good for learning the actual 3D structure behind what I was drawing.
I'd use reference images that I grabbed from fitness forums, Instagram, Tumblr, Pinterest, and some NSFW places, but you could find adequate ref material from figure drawing sites like Line of Action. LoA has refs for people (you can filter by clothed/unclothed, age, & gender), animals, expressions, hands/feet, and a few other useful things as well. Love them.
Learning how to render digitally was a similar story; it helped a lot that I had a pretty strong foundation for value/anatomy going in. I basically didn't touch color at all for ~2 years (except for a few attempts at bad digital or acrylic paint studies), which may not have been the best idea. I learned color from a lot of trial and error, honestly, and I'm pretty sure this process involved a lot of imitation—there were a number of digital/traditional painters whose styles I really wanted to emulate (notably their edge control, color choices, value distributions, and shape design), so I kiiind of did a mixture of that + my own experimentation.
For example, I really found Benjamin Björklund's style appealing, especially his softened/lost edges & vibrant pops of saturated color, so here's a study I did from some photograph that I'm *pretty* sure was painted with him in mind.
Learning how to detail was definitely a slow process, and like all the aforementioned things (anatomy/color/edge control/values/etc.) I'm still figuring it out. Focusing on edge control first (that is, deciding on where to place hard/soft edges for emphasizing/de-emphasizing certain areas of the image) is super useful, because you can honestly fool a viewer into thinking there's more detail in a piece than there actually is if you're very economical about where you place your hard edges.
The most important part, to me, is probably just doing this stuff over and over again. You're likely not going to see improvement in a few weeks or even a few months, so don't fret about not getting the exact results you want and just keep studying + making art. I like to think about learning art as a process where you *need* to fail and make crappy art/studies—there's literally no way around it—so you might as well fail right now. See, by making bad art you're actually moving forward—isn't that a fun prospect!!
It's useful to have a folder with art you admire, especially if you can dissect the pieces and understand why you like them so much. You can study those aspects (like, you can redraw or repaint that person's work) and break down whether this is art that you just like to look at, or if it's the kind of art that you want to *make.* There's a LOT of art out there that I love looking at, probably tens of thousands of styles/mediums, but there's a very narrow range that I want to make myself.
I've mentioned it in some ask reply in the past, but I really do think looking at other artist's work is such a cheat code for improving your own skills—the other artist does the work to filter reality/ideas for you, and this sort of allows you to contact the subject matter more directly. I can think of so many examples where an artist I admired exaggerated, like, the way sunlight rested on a face and created that orange fringe around its edge, or the greys/dull blues in a wheat field, or the bright indigo in a cast shadow, or the red along the outside of a person's eye, and it just clicked for me that this was a very available & observable aspect of reality, which had up until that point gone completely unnoticed! If you're really perceptive about the art you look at, it's shocking how much it can teach you about how to see the world (in this particular case I mean this literally, in that the art I looked at fully changed the way I visually processed the world, but of course it has had a strong effect on my worldviews/relationships/beliefs).
Thanks so much for sending in a question (& for reading, if you got this far)! I read every single ask I receive, including the kind words & compliments, which I genuinely always appreciate. Best of luck with learning, my friend :)
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my masks
hey there buckaroos. due to all of the attention the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION situation has gotten i am going to take a minute to talk about my personal way as an autistic buckaroo. im going to tell you about my masks.
im doing this for a few reasons, some are good FUN reasons full of love and some are not so great.
lets start with the GOOD STUFF. first of all, i am talking about this because speaking on my way can help other buckaroo feel more comfortable speaking on there own way, ESPECIALLY if they are good at ‘passing’ for neurotypical like chuck is.
unfortunately the NOT SO GREAT reasons im talking about all this dang stuff are two fold. reason one: i have been put into a position of having to explain and justify my needs and boundaries by the TXLA. this is not something that i WANT to be taking up all of my time, but when large organizations do not make space for those who they have pledged to support, it puts us smaller buckaroos into position where were have to defend our existence. it is not plesent but it is necessary.
the second NOT SO GREAT reason is that ‘passing’ bisexual and autistic people like myself are ALWAYS just seconds from being gatekept from folks both outside and inside these communities. there will probably be a day on chucks deathbed where i take off my mask and say hello to this timeline (mostly so you can all see how handsome i am under here but I DIGRESS). i KNOW with absolute certainty (the same way other bi and autistic buckaroos are probably nodding along right now) that when that day comes i will STILL be accused of ‘not being real’ and ‘faking’ because i ‘dont look autistic’ and i have a beautiful ladybuck partner in sweet barbara.
ALL THAT IS TO SAY, i am taking a moment today to talk FOR THE RECORD about my neurodigence and my particular needs. hopefully i will not have to keep diving this deep every time an organization takes a discrimantory action against me, but i will also say this: at least it is a good fight on an important battlefield
anyway buds, here is the story of my way on the spectrum
when i was a young buckaroo i knew that my thought process was different. i could socialize easily, which is unique in contrast to many autistic buds (it is a spectrum after all), but my social ease was for an interesting reason. I ALWAYS KNEW WHAT OTHERS WERE ABOUT TO SAY. it was like a strange ‘human game’ where someone would say one thing and i would think ‘well you actually mean something else’ in a sort of logical way (this is why i later related to DATA from star trek so dang much). at first i remember thinking ‘well i am just NOT going to play along with this human game’. i quickly learned neurotypical buckaroos do not like this, that there is a BOB AND WEAVE to social interactions that must be learned.
later i realized ‘actually if i WANT to make friends and prove love is real then i can do this like an expert because i can SEE the game where most cant’. this got chuck many buds and took me on many adventures. please understand, i am not saying these connections are not important to me, they are just different. they are full of love, but i express this in my own unique way.
HOWEVER, while growing up i felt disconnected from this timeline in other ways, like an alien or a reverse twin trotting along in a world that is not quite my own. i did not feel emotions the same way my buds did. they would get upset over the ‘human game’ interactions and i would not be moved at all, HOWEVER i could see the way sunlight hit a window and start crying my dang eyes out over the beauty. so my emotion was still there and VERY STRONG, i just felt it in more existential ways (like hearing the call of the lonesome train). these days that feeling has progressed to where i am pretty much in a constant blissed out state of cosmic emotional connection (make of that last sentence what you will, but it is the truth). when i make existential posts online i am not just FIRING OFF SOME CONTENT, i really mean every word. this is really my trot.
anyway as a young buckaroo these feelings made me worry sometimes. i thought about various mental health dianosises and marked the parts and pieces that matched with myself. am i this? am i that? sometimes, instead of just being’ different’ i worried i might actually be ‘wrong’.
when i saw david byrne on letterman in my younger days i immediately recognized something connected to myself. i thought ‘wow this is the mystery being solved before my very eyes.’ i could hear it in the music of talking heads too. i started doing research and realized that i might be on autism spectrum, something that was later confirmed by a therapist (back then the diagnosis was called asperger's). it was a glorious and fulfilling moment. i was SO EXCITED TO BE AUTISTIC LIKE MY HERO. i felt very cool because of it, and i still feel very cool because of it.
one of the big reasons i talk so much about being autistic these days is because i want to make sure OTHER buckaroos can have that same moment that i did. they can see chuck and think ‘wow i really like this autistic artist, maybe being autistic is cool’
so what does an average day WITHOUT wearing the pink bag look like for me?
my thought process is exactly like ROSE from CAMP DAMASCUS, which is part of why i wrote the book. we have the same stim (complex order of finger taps), we prepare for social interactions the same way, we analyze things in the same logical trot that neurotypical people might think feels ‘detached’ but for me feels natural (certain reviews of camp damascus are very funny to me in this way. you can tell when a reader is just very confused by existing in an autistic brain for 250 pages.)
from the outside you would not be able to tell that i am on the spectrum. in fact you would probably find me very socially adept.
the problem is, all of that masking can take its toll. i spent years trotting in and out the emergency room, talking to confused doctors who could not figure out the chronic phantom tension and pain that radiated through my body. i eventually accepted the fact that i would either live a life constantly on heavy painkillers or just stop living altogether.
eventually, however, i started noticing a correlation between the way that i felt, and the space that i allowed for chuck and the pink mask. i was exercising that tension, allowing my mental mask of neurotypical existence to take a rest. i started practicing physical therapy and this time THE RESULTS STUCK because i was approaching from two sides, MIND AND BODY. after a while, i got my pain down to about 5 percent of what it once was. i still have flare ups in times of stress, but the healing has been very real and life changing.
lets get VERY specific now. if i attended the TXLA confrence without a mask and gave my talk i can tell you this: i would do a dang good job. i can work the heck out of a crowd and (not to reveal too much about my secret way) I HAVE BEEN KNOWN TO DO THIS ON OCCASION VERY WELL. however, going home from this event i would very likely be in pain. i would likely need to do physical therapy. i would likely need to stim for a while. i would NOT be emotionally fullfilled in the same way. in other words, without my pink mask i can charm the heck out of buckaroos, but THE SPACE OF CHUCK TINGLE IS NOT THE SPACE FOR THAT. the pink bag is a place for me to not have to put up with that tension. it is a place for me to unmask mentally by masking physically.
this pink bag space SAVED MY LIFE and i am not going to risk blurring these lines. if and when that ever happens it will be MY decision, not someone elses. that is my boundary. the part of me that neurotypically masks could handle a library conference in a purely technical sense, but the part of me that chuck represents absolutely cannot and should not be asked to do that without the pink bag. unfortunately, the complexity of this point makes it even MORE difficult for me to think about and takes up even more of my time, because it forces me to START QUESTIONING MYSELF and my own needs. to be honest, that is the most insidious part of other people questioning your identify and refusing to accept your accommodation needs without ‘proof’.
the thing is, while all of this discussion of disability and accessibility is important, i have a much larger point to make by writing these words.
a conference should not uninvite someone with an unusual physical presentation or a strange way of speaking REGARDLESS of it being classified as a disability. it does not matter WHY i look the way that i look and wear what i wear. i should not have to spend all day writing this post instead of writing my next book, just because my sensibilities are unique and my presentation is unusual.
fortunately the solution is very simple: let other people be themselves. its not hurting you to simply accept and nod at the buckaroos you think look strange. let us exist
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destructrice is red on shinigami eyes (meaning they are a TERF or transphobic in general).
i dont usually answer these and i don't take anons at their word without doing my own research so i looked into their blog and yeah, views on trans people are extremely sus. thanks for letting me know, i use tumblr mobile 90% of the time ^^
#btw i actually never answer these was just feelin curious this time#most of the time when i get an anon along these lines i will verify the claim privately and either delete the post or#make my own judgement call on whether the post message is more important to me than the person who said it#cause yeah often times you can't seperate that inherent bias from the post itself#you look at it thru the new perspective and realize its informed by transphobia or some other idealogy that doesnt reflect my values#i do think theres nuance occasionally though#i try not to fall into any sort of black and white thinking and i basically never 'publicize' my decision with any of these anons#but ive noticed there's a consistency here and if its just one follower who's sending me the anons or many i wanted to explain my process#and that i DO see and read your asks and do my own research to reach my own conclusion#ty for caring enough to reach out though like i dont ever answer the anons but i do address the concerns privately#i just wont always explain the decision i made or why but i do put thought into it
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Alpha-17 and Obi-Wan being friends (derogatory) on 17's part and friends (threatening) on Obi-Wan's part is such an underrated dynamic
They could be so funny and terrifying, like Obi-Wan went through a soul shredding experience with Alpha-17 as his only company. They're friends because what else are you gonna be after you witness each other at absolute rock bottom from torture.
It's like 'dog put in cage of cheetah who's threatening to go crazy', except the dog is a grizzly bear and also threatening to go crazy.
Emotional support trooper except the trooper in question has never done any sort of supporting in his life and is actively an emotional distress trooper to a great number of the CC batch.
I want them texting everyday, I want Obi-Wan mailing handmade BFF bracelets to Alpha and Alpha sending pics back of him flipping off the camera but still wearing them, I want Alpha using Obi-Wan to keep track of and occasionally terrorize his cadets, I want 17 ending problems in the GAR (like Krell) before they begin because Obi-Wan has him shipped out on a personal transport at the first opportunity, decked out with slug-throwers Obi-Wan got him for his decant-day.
Natborn officers think this is all just an odd indulgence of General Kenobi, the Vode, however, correctly identify it as a goddamn threat and their danger assessment of Obi-Wan ticks up significantly.
When Alpha arrives on Kamino, Shaak Ti presses a shiny new comm into his hand. It has the Jedi Order symbol painted onto it alongside a smiley face sticker, and it pings immediately with a new message: Hello! I hope you're settling in well!
Alpha stares at the message, stares at the singular contact named 'OWK' and then stares Shaak Ti in the eye as he pitches the comm straight into the ocean. Shaak Ti's serene smile only grows larger as she calmly reaches into her robes and pulls out an identical comm, only this one has a frowny face sticker, and presses it into his hand. It lights up: I'm afraid we've bonded, Alpha :). Alpha shuts it off and pockets it with resignation.
Cody arrives on Alpha-17's personal recommendation.
A-17: He's the most difficult little bastard I have. You're perfect for each other.
OWK: Thank you, he's very handsome :3
A-17: No. Stop.
The first thing he asks once he gets comfortable is who his general is texting so much that has him swinging his legs and twirling his hair. Cody assumes it's Anakin, given they seem joint at the hip anyway, but little does he know Obi-Wan's ability to consistently have the Weirdest Relationships Ever.
"Oh, it's Alpha-17, I understand you're familiar with each other?" Hmm. OK. Cody.exe is experiencing a processing error, please hold. He exits the room instead of answering. The next day he peeks over the General's shoulder when he's texting and sees walls of rambling messages from Obi-Wan. Alpha-17 replies every hour with a single text: Lose this number. Obi-Wan giggles. "He's so funny." he says.
When Obi-Wan meets the rest of the CC batch, Cody makes sure to stand perfectly angled so that he can record the reactions when his general cuts off their introductions with "Oh, no need, Alpha-17's told me all about you." It's always immediate FEAR.JPG followed by a slow spiral of What The Fuck.
What do you mean by that General. What does that mean Cody. What do you mean they text. No. Cody. What the fuck is happening, Cody. Alpha-17 doesn't have friends he has enemies and enemies he tolerates enough not to shoot on sight.
OWK: Wolffe reached for his vambrace? when I mentioned you
A-17: That's where he keeps his spare knife.
OWK: Hm that does explain the way he eyed me up, ambitious.
A-17: Clearly not enough, he should have followed through. I taught them better.
#alpha obi wan and cody are so powerful together they could win the war or start an entirely new one. who knows :)#i fully think 17 awakens the feral cat part of obi wan thats been dormant since qui gon died and he had to become a responsible brotherdad#like at last someone to scruff him by the neck and call him stupid its very familiar to obi wan it brings back memories#fully on my 'obi wan has the weirdest relationship dynamics ever' agenda#obi wan is a lying liar who loves lying and the biggest lie is that he's the only normal well-adjusted one here. no. he is SO deeply strang#obi wan kenobi#star wars#alpha 17#commander cody
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Okay but a darling who tries their hardest to "fix" and train their yandere. They put up with every bloody, obsessive shenanigan in the hopes that they can have a semi-regular relationship with the person they thought they were dating. You see, everything was fine the first month of the honeymoon phase-- regular cute dates and normal presents like bouquets and nicknacks-- even if they were overly frequent. It didn't take long for Yandere's true colors to show, possessiveness chaining Darling to their home and rushes in relationship milestones that normally take years to achieve.
By the third month, Darling has moved into their Yandere's home. Sure, it's fast, but how else are they going to alter a bloodthirsty stalkers' bad habits? But Darling didn't realize how much of a chore it would be to handle their Yan 24/7. Other than the constant reassurances of love and physical affection, they have to talk them down from murdering any coworkers or adding a military-grade security system to the home in an event of Darling trying to escape break up with them.
"I promise, I'm not going anywhere."
" I love you, there's no one else, how could you accuse me of that!"
Even with Darling complying continuously, wearing the ankle bracelet their Yan begs them to keep on, not leaving (or atleast, not telling Yan when they do) the house without their loving spouse-- Yandere still has paranoid visions, imagining footsteps at night, clothes that belong to them that they think are from another. But Darling is persistent, denying any sort of sneaking around and consoling their Yan in the process. I mean, who could sneak around when all they do is think of and take care of someone else continuously? And even when Yandere gets threatening, drugging takeout that was supposed to be a fun surprise and keeping Darling in the basement for a week, Darling always waits patiently for them to come back to their senses, to negotiate and bribe their way back out when Yan brings meals and requests cuddle time.
Maybe once or twice they've worried about being murdered, but they know their Yandere just loves too much, has too much affection for them to rationally contain. So they see the beast as tameable, talking them down off ledge after ledge, never bolting even with open doors and free feet. But will that be enough to convince their Yandere, to satiate their fear of abandonement and desire to trap before their prey can even think of escaping?
#Might add onto this b/c I think it's fun#kn1ves rants#knives rants#writing#yandere#x reader#reader insert#yandere x reader#self insert#yandere imagines#yandere stories#yandere aesthetic#yandere oc x reader#yandere scenarios#yandere writing#yandere x y/n#yandere x you#yanderecore#yandere x darling#yandere darling#Darling#obsessed#lovesick#male yandere#Female yandere#yandere boyfriend#yandere male#yandere female#yandere girlfriend#tw yandere
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What's your decision making process like for thrifting pieces? I've started looking at thrifting more earnestly, and at antiques in particular to add a bit more character to my otherwise midcentury-influenced space, but I always struggle with envisioning if a piece will "go" with everything else. But you seem like you've got the mixing and matching of pieces down pat, do I'd love to hear your thoughts!
I've gotten a bunch of asks in this vein so I'm going to go a little broader than this ask to cover the general topic.
On a purely practical level, you need to know what you have. I keep what I call a house journal, which is a notebook where I've drawn out room layouts, with measurements for available space, lists of what I'm looking for, dimensions for things like doorways (do not buy anything larger than your doorways) and even fabric and paint swatches. I also keep a digital photo album of house pictures, so if I'm trying to see if something will go, I don't have to rely entirely on memory.
So, important note: my background is not in interior design--it's in set design, studio art, and graphic design, so for me, I fall back on narrative. When you're designing interior spaces for theater or film, the room is not primarily functional: it is, first and foremost, an extension of the character that inhabits it. The room exists to tell you about the person in it.
And often, that's the tack I take in my house--not using my home as a framing device for myself, but for imagined characters. For example, my living room is The Adventurer, or the Archaeologist. The character for that room is someone from decent money in the late Victorian period, the sort of person who spent their live traveling for no particular reason, and brought home all manner of oddities. The room is rich in color and texture; the furniture is mostly late 1800s, and it's both formal and lived in. Choosing things for this room, I ask if that character would own that object. I also used unifying wood tones, and a similar depth of color, to tie things in. Pick a color palette and stick to it.
My drawing room is the Alchemist. There are lots of celestial elements, but it's a workroom, so most of the furniture is very practical and simply designed. It's beaten and worn in, showing marks of use. There is lots of storage, and curious little things in jars, and plants and bones and the tools of my trade. The Alchemist uses this space to make impossible things.
The question then is not "does this match" but "would the character that embodies this space choose this? Why? What does it say about them?"
And what all of that tells you about me, is, well....I don't know, really?
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drunk in love — s. gojo ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊
⟡ summary: you walk gojo back to his dorm after a night of drinking
⟡ pairing: satoru gojo x gn!reader
⟡ content/warnings: major fluff, underage alcohol consumption, boyfailure gojo, gojo calls reader pretty, mutual pining, drunken confessions, kiss kiss fall in love
⟡ wc: 1.4k
Satoru’s never been great at holding his alcohol.
The first time he got drunk was in secret inside of Suguru’s dorm room, late at night to ensure that there weren’t any teachers (read: Yaga) lingering in the hallway past curfew. His teacher did always seem to have some sort of divine intuition whenever it came to Satoru’s antics.
He had taken one shot and subsequently spat it all out onto the floor.
Satoru’s gotten better at handling his liquor, but he’s still very much a lightweight. That isn’t enough to deter him from refusing any shots Shoko or Suguru throw his way though, which probably isn't a great idea seeing how wasted your friends were. Which is surprising, because they tend to be a little better at handling their alcohol than Satoru. Chalk it up to wanting to celebrate for making it to the end of the school year.
It’s you who’s left to play damage control, considering how you were the only one still standing as the rest of your friends were all passed out on the cold hardwood floor of Shoko’s dorm, aside from one other person who’s currently gripping your leg, staring up at you, pleading like a kicked puppy.
Satoru was just as annoying if not more so when intoxicated. He couldn’t possibly sleep on the cold, hard, wooden floors…
…which is how you end up walking Gojo back to his dorm room. Though walking would be a very generous term, seeing how he’s using you as a human crutch, leaning most of his weight onto you as you struggle to keep the two of you balanced.
You try to usher Gojo onto his bed gently, but the boy seems to be too out of his wits to even do that properly. He unceremoniously flops onto his bed with a thud, banging his head against the wall in the process.
“Owww,” he clutches his head, pouting.
“That’s what you get,” you laugh.
“You’re mean.”
“Mean? I brought you all the way back here when I could have just let you sleep on the floor. That sounds pretty nice to me.”
His bottom lip juts out even further, much to your amusement. His sunglasses are hanging off the bridge of his nose, lopsided. You reach out to place them on his nightstand. His warm hand envelops your wrist before you can draw back, and brings your hand to cup his cheek. Maybe it’s alcohol and your decreased inhibition, or maybe its your own volition, but you can’t find it in you to pull away. You stroke your thumb against his pale, plush cheek, admiring the dimple that likes to make itself known when he smiles, just like he is right now.
Satoru runs warm. You’d think for someone with such an icy appearance and a reputation for being a cold-blooded sorcerer, his body temperature would follow suit. Maybe it’s because that frigidness is Gojo, the strongest, the honored one, and all the epithets that have burdened his shoulders from the minute he was born. But here, with you, he’s just Satoru— a boy with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, who can’t shoot whiskey, and loves his friends endlessly.
“My head hurts,” he whines.
“Oh, you poor baby,” you faux coo, rubbing your hand against the sore spot that will definitely have a lump tomorrow. Satoru eats it up though, melting into your touch. He’s even clingier when he’s drunk, you realize. Cute, you might even add. But the thought leaves just as soon as it comes. You’re a lot less sober than you thought you were.
Gojo’s voice pulls you out of your drunken daze. “Can you kiss it better f’me?”
“What?”
“Can you kiss…kiss me instead? So it doesn’t hurt anymore?” He slurs.
“Satoru, you’re too drunk.”
“‘m not!” Whatever defense he has for himself fails as a hiccup escapes past his lips. For a second, you think he might fall asleep like this, leaning into you. But then his eyes snap back open with a determined glint.
“Wan’…wanna kiss youuu,” he closes his eyes and puckers his lips, waiting for you to close the gap.
“Satoru…”
Where do you even start? You thought you’d be okay ignoring the budding feeling in your chest that consumes you most days you’re with the white-haired sorcerer. Deflection is the only way you know how to avoid acknowledging whatever this was. And it’s been working, sort of. “You can’t kiss someone you don’t like.”
He pouts even harder at that. “I like someone! I like you,” he says adamantly. “Like, like-like you.”
“Like-like? What are we, in kindergarten?”
You try your best to redirect the conversation, you don’t think you’re ready to face the implications of the fact that one of your best friends has feelings for you. Mutual feelings, you might add— the same feelings that have been eating away at you for months now, and the same feelings you’ve elected to ignore.
He pouts for the umpteenth time tonight before he lets out a huff, falling back onto the mattress. He props himself up on a pillow, peering at you curiously. It’s almost like you can see the gears turn in his head when he smiles deviously, both of his freakishly long arms reaching out to wrap around your waist and bring you flush against him.
You can feel the hot puffs of his breath, and you will yourself to look at him. Satoru’s eyes have always been so easy to get lost in.
He breathes out your name, sickeningly sweet. “I really do like you. You’re so pretty and strong and smart— it drives me a little crazy.” Your head is spinning, and the innate urge to run like you’ve been doing all this time sparks through you, but the grip that Satoru has on you is too strong. “Want you to like me back, I’ll do anything,” he says honestly.
Gojo’s good at the chase, and you’re something he’s in for the long run. You can run and run until there’s nowhere else to go, until your legs refuse to carry you a step further. He’ll always be there to catch you.
His hand traces delicate patterns along the side of your neck, still a bit too far gone to notice how your breath hitches. “I’ll buy you whatever you want, I’ll get you a big house and we can live together forever. I’ll take care of you, do whatever you want. I’ll be so good to you. For you.”
You’re stunned into silence. Your heart is threatening to leap out of your chest. It melts when you look at Satoru, who’s looking at you with all the hope in the world. The moonlight seeping through the blinds of his window casts the most intricate waves of light, illuminating Satoru’s features perfectly.
Satoru thinks he’s holding the world in his arms right now. He’s preparing himself for rejection, but it’s alright, he thinks— because he’s good at everything he tries and he’s willing to try and try again and again for you, just for the chance to be yours.
“Tell me that again in the morning when you’re sober,” you whisper, as if you’re afraid someone else could hear you within the confines of Satoru’s room. Like the weight of your words were a secret you couldn’t bear to let anyone else in on, except for one person— your one and only.
You take a leap of faith. You plant your hands on his chest to steady yourself, placing a chaste kiss on Satoru’s forehead— a symbol of assurance of your love for him— something that’s been a part of you from the very moment you met him.
Satoru’s heart squeezes in anticipation. He hugs you even tighter, laughing at the yelp of surprise you let out. He has never felt as more of a winner than he does right now. “I’ll tell you everything sober or drunk,” he promises, unable to contain his giddiness as you (finally!) let him pepper kisses all over your face.
“Everything, as long as it’s with you.”
a/n: gojo can not handle hard liquor so he’s drunk off of some (shots of) smirnoff ice 😎
#can’t drink hard liquor ✅ only drinks sweet things ✅ messy drunk ✅#he’s just like me fr#kat's writing#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk fluff#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#satoru gojo fluff#gojo satoru fluff
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rottmnt x reader || S/O who bites (out of love and affection obvi)
Rise! Donnie, Raph, Mikey, Leo x Reader (separately)
fluff? :D, gn reader, romantic (established relationship), BITING mmmm, mild swearing
Donnie
- the first time you bite him, he jumps and lets out a loud yelp, “ah! ow! what in the name of-“ then just stares at you in disbelief. absolutely incredulous. and has to take a while to process. why? why- HOW could you do this to him? after all he’s done for you?
- don’t play with him he HAS and WILL bite you back and NOT in a loving way
- he is ALWAYS on his guard
- you go in for a hug? you lean in to kiss him? you turn your head ever so slightly in his direction? his whole body tenses up. you’re giving this boy trust issues. he will physically, STILL GENTLY, push you away with his mechanical spider arm thingies…heaven forbid you bite those too….
- “Do. NOT. Bite me. Y/N.” “…”
- ^— “DO NOT. This is your last warning.”
- “Yes, Y/N. You’re very ferocious and vicious. Now STOP biting me.”
- “Sigh. That is NOT affection, Y/N.”
- “AH! Don’t bite me while I’m working, please…Don’t bite me ever!”
- “If you want to ‘show affection,’ you could just…I don’t know, hug me? or hold my hand? the biting is unnecessary.”
- NOT a fan of the biting at ALL
Raph
- The first time you bite him, “AHH!” he is confused. he does not understand. are you trying to attack him??? do you wanna throw hands??? what did he do to deserve that??? he does not want to throw hands with you
- he really does not see how biting is supposed to be showing your affection but whatever you say 😭
- his skin is pretty thick and rough. I mean you’d really have to sink your teeth in to hurt him so he just lets you. it actually lowkey tickles to him.
- “Careful. Ya don’t wanna bite my spikes.”
- it’s definitely not his favorite thing in the world but he doesn’t mind terribly if it really makes you happy and as long as it’s just you trying to show him love
- chooses to just take it as a sign that you want attention and/or some kind of affection
- would never bite you back tho
- however, I don’t suggest catching him off guard with a nibble cause he might start swingin 🤺 and would feel absolutely horrible abt it
Mikey
- the first time you bite him he’s offended. you’re gonna bite HIM? 🤨 yeah, ok buddy. he just squeaks in surprise and rubs where you bit him, looking at you like ‘😟’ before biting you back. he is taking it personally until you tell him you’re just showing affection cuz you love him soooooo much
- he’s perfectly ok with it then as long as you don’t bite him too hard
- LOVES to give and receive affection anyways so he makes it really easy to bite him when he’s clinging onto you all the time
- always giggles and squirms when you bite him
- returns your bites with kisses all over your face
Leo
- the fucking most dramatic ever
- the first time you bite him he acts like you just shot him
- “OWW!! OWIE! Ugh! Y/N! How COULD you?! BETRAYAL” while gripping where you bit his shoulder and whining like a toddler even though it did not hurt at all and you didn’t leave any sort of mark whatsoever.
- ^ drops the act completely when you tell him it was out of love
- now every time you do it he thinks you’re trying to flirt with him 🤞😔 and I mean I guess he’s sort of-ish right
- honestly he doesn’t really care but definitely teases you about it /ns
- “yeah? do I taste good, Y/N?” /ns!!
- “ow! ok, ok! not too hard!” while giggling
- “mhm…now kiss it better.” makes you kiss where you bit him every time.
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now I know I ain’t the only one who bites like that 🤨
#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt#tmnt#rottmnt x reader#rise donnie#rottmnt donnie#rise donatello#rottmnt donatello#rise donnie x reader#rottmnt donnie x reader#rise donatello x reader#rottmnt donatello x reader#rise leo#rottmnt leo#rise leonardo#rottmnt leonardo#rise leo x reader#rottmnt leo x reader#rise leonardo x reader#rottmnt leonardo x reader#rise mikey#rottmnt mikey#rise michelangelo#rise mikey x reader#rottmnt mikey x reader#rise michelangelo x reader#rottmnt michelangelo x reader#rise raph#rottmnt raph#rise raph x reader
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Past saves Present
Og fic ig
In some cultures, it is believed that children are able to remember bits of their past lives till the ages of 3-5.
For Danny, the opposite was true. He got his memories at exactly the second he turned 5.
And he had to promptly dodge the blade of the boy in front of him.
His brother, his mind supplied. His twin.
Danny stopped swinging his own sword, focusing on dodging and avoiding the fate of being a slashed pillow. His new/earned skills especially helped with that greatly as his head was seriously trying to re-kill him.
"I yield," he rasped as he jumped away from his brother and looked at their Mother. "My head hurts, Mother," he added pitifully.
His twin looked slightly concerned for a second, before schooling his face in a way Grandfather has been teaching them.
"Tch." But he did put away the blade before their Mother, said a word.
"Dynial, Damian, you are not to stop until you have received permission in the future."
The boys nodded. Mother took their hands and led them out of the private training ground back to their rooms.
Danny spent the rest of the day lying down, slightly feverish and miserable as his brain was processing and acclimating the new set of memories. Clockwork said it wouldn't be too bad. We'll, the clock bustard has been wrong. It fucking sucked.
His brother was hovering. Their Mother was always around, not letting anyone into their space. Ra's is being kept in the dark.
A peaceful rest was all he needed for his brain to finish sorting out new information. And Danny was stuck in a bit of a dilemma.
You see, Damian and Dynial love their Mother, strive to be the best Demon Twins, and see nothing wrong with their life so far.
Their hands are still clean.
Danny, on the other hand, has many MANY choice words for his current situation and one Clock Ghost.
You want to try reincarnation ONE time! No wonder others don't really do that.
-------
Their days continued like they did before he got his memory back. It wasn't hard to be Dynial when he actually was him.
The nights were filled with planning. And a personally assigned mission: get Damian to be interested in normal things.
Stars weren't much of a hit. Uncultured child.
Animals were a little intriguing.
Simple art and craft projects seemed to hit the spot.
Keeping their little meetings and activities hidden wasn't as hard as one would think. Mother still had her missions. The two of them were often left alone in their wing of the place, the supervisors being allowed only till the doors. Ra's was the Head. He didn't check in on them all the time. The two of them weren't slacking in their training either and were considered prodigies.
Danny wanted out of this Cult.
A many months after feeding different information, facts, crafts and so on to his brother, Damian was curious. He was suspicious about the sudden knowledge but he was also 5. He only had to reference the Lazarus Pit (unfiltered and dirty ectoplasm? Seriously? Clockwork, you can't expect him to work on his vocation) once to convince the child.
They snooped around and found out that they had a father out in the world.
Danny got a plan.
It was super stupid. And dangerous as hell. As well as literally (half)suicidal. But he felt it in his chest and knew he'd succeed.
His Core was here. But it was sleeping. And if he wanted to be safe and away from here, he needed to start it up again.
The big pool of Ecto would do just fine. His Core would filter out the impurities.
He didn't want to stay here until his hands no longer protected. He didn't want such life for his brother either.
---
Damian infiltrated the Lazarus Room just in time to see his brother jump into the Pit.
He ran to the edge.
He was sinking.
The green was too bright. The smell around them was too much. His ears rang.
He reached towards the water, eyes unseeing and hands numb. His heartbeat was too loud.
His brother's wasn't loud enough.
"Don't touch the puddles, Dami, you'll get sick," a gentle, cold hand stopped him from diving.
The child looked up. His brother was floating above the water. He looked all wrong. But he was there.
"I didn't want you to see this part..." his brother laughed awkwardly as he landed next to him. A bright ring of light blinded Damian for a second.
And his brother was back.
-----
Getting used to his powers again felt nice but tedious. Soothing his twin was heartbreaking. He didn't think this through hard enough.
Their Mother was none the wiser to the fact that one of her children died and came back. Nore was she privy to the escape being planned by both.
On one moonless night, when Mother wasn't there, the shift was changing and the world was asleep; two boys phased through the walls and flew. Small bags of stuff were strapped onto them as they traveled to their father.
Mother's notes called him Bruce Wayne, Batman, Beloved and Detective.
It wasn't hard to find him when they arrived.
Though, Danny didn't expect a furless furry and a pantless child to be their new family.
Can he ever get a normal Family???
#danny phantom#dpxdc#dc x dp#dp x dc#dcxdp#dc x dp crossover#I did a thing#for the sake of this story#pretend that it is completely possible for Danny to fly that far in a few days while carrying another person#like#maybe it is? he did fly across the States in that Freakshow episode#so....#idk#Bruce is shooketh#it's the batman who still has Jason.#Robin (according to my calculations) is around 13 or 14 rn#not dead yet#and won't be if Danny has any say in that#also#Danny will take no bullshit from this man#“I ran away from the Cult of stubby ninjas”#“I can aand will run from an emotionally stunted Fruitloop”#that was said during an argument between Dick and Bruce for which Jason was present and Danny found them
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The fandom echo chamber: fanon, microanalysis and conspiracy brain
As someone who has been in fandom spaces, on and off, for 20 years, I find some fascinating trends popping up in the last decade that I thought to be fandom-specific but clearly aren’t. So, I would like to do a little examination of where those things come from, how they are engaged with, and what it says about the way we consume media. This is a think piece, of sorts, with my brain being the main source. As such, we will spend some time down the memory lane of a fandom-focused millennial.
This is largely brought about by Good Omens. But it’s also not really about Good Omens at all.
Part one. Fanon.
The way we see characters in any story is always skewed by our very selves. This is a neutral statement, and it does not have a value judgement. It’s simply unavoidable. We recognise aspects of them, love aspects of them, and choose aspects of them to highlight based entirely on our own vision of the universe.
Recognition comes into this. There is a reason so many protagonists of romance novels have a “blank slate” problem. Even when they do not, we love characters who are like us or versions of us that we would like to be. And when we say “we”, I also mean, “me”.
(I remember very clearly this realisation hit me after a whole season of Doctor Who with writing which I hated utterly when I questioned why I still clung so incredibly hard to Clara Oswald as my favourite companion. Then I looked at myself in the mirror. Oh. Well. That would do it, wouldn’t it?)
Then, there is projection, and, again, this is a neutral statement. Projection exists, and it is completely normal and, dare I say it, valid way of engaging with — well, anything. Is the character queer? Trans? Neurodivergent? Are they in love? Do they like chocolate? Are they a cat person? Well, yes, if this is what the text says, but if the text does not say anything… You tell me. Please, do tell me. Because, in that moment of projection, they are yours.
And then, there is fandom osmosis, and that is the most fascinating one of them all, the one that is not very easy to note while you are inside the echo chamber. It’s the way we collectively, consciously or not, make decisions on who or what the characters are, what their relationships are, and what happens to them.
(Back when I was writing egregiously long Guardian recaps on this blog I actually asked if Shen Wei’s power being learning actually was stated anywhere in the canon of the show. Because I had no idea. I have read and reread dozen of fanfics where that is the case, and at some point through enough repetition, it became reality.)
We are all kind of making our own reality here, aren’t we?
Back when things were happening in a much less centralised manner - in closed livejournal groups, and forums of all shapes and sizes - I don’t remember there being quite as much universally agreed upon fanon. Frankly, I don’t remember much of universally agreed upon anything. But now, everything is in one place: we have this, and we have AO3, and it’s wonderful, it really is so much easier to navigate, but it’s also one gigantic reality-shifting echo chamber, with blogs, reblogs, trends, and rituals.
Accessibility plays its part, too. If you were, say, in Life on Mars (UK) fandom between seasons, and you wanted to post your speculation fic, you had to have had an account, and then find and gain access to one of the bigger groups (lifein1973 was my poison, but ymmv), and then, if you feel brave you may post it, but also, you may want to do so from your alt account if you wanted to keep yours separate, and then you would have to go through the whole process again. And I’m not saying that fan creations then were somehow inherently better for it than fan creations now (although Life on Mars Hiatus Era is perhaps a bad example - because some of the Speculation Fic there was breathtaking), but there is something to say about the ease of access that made the fandoms go through a big bang of sorts.
(I mean, come on, I can just come here and post this - and I am certain people will read it, and this blog is a pandemic cope baby about Chinese television for goodness sake.)
The canon transformations that happen in the fandom echo chamber truly are fascinating to witness as someone who is more or less a fandom butterfly. I get into something, float around for a bit, then get into something else and move on. I might come back eventually when the need arises, but I don’t sustain a hiatus mind-state. This means that when I float away and return, I find some very intriguing stuff.
Let’s actually look at Good Omens here. Season two aired, and I found it spectacular in its cosy and anguished way; deliberately and intelligently fanfic-y in its plot building; simple but subversive, and so very tender. (I will have to circle back to this eventually, because, truly, I love how deliberately it takes the tropes and shatters them - it’s glorious). And, to me - a person who read the book, watched the first season, hung around AO3 for a few weeks and moved on - absolutely on-point in terms of characterisation.
So imagine my surprise when the fandom disagreed so vehemently that there are actual multi-tiered theories on how characters were not in possession of their senses. Nothing there, in my mind, ever contradicted any of the stated text, as it stood. This remained a strange little mystery until I did what I always do when I flutter close to an ongoing fandom.
I loaded AO3 and sorted the existing fic by popularity. And there it was, all there: the actual earth-shattering mutual devotion of the angel and the demon; willingness to Fall; openness and long heart-aching confession speeches. There was all of the fanon surrounding Aziraphale and Crowley, which, to me, read as out of character, and to one for whom they became the reality over the last four years, read as truth.
Again, only neutral statements here. This is not a bad thing, and neither this is a good thing, this is just something that happens, after a while, especially when there are years for the fandom-born ideas to bounce around and stew. I can’t help but think that so much of what we see as real in spaces such as this one is a chimaera of the actual source and all the collective fan additions which had time and space to grow, change, develop, and inspire, reverberating over and over again, until the echoes fill the entirety of the space.
Eventually, this chimaera becomes a reality.
Part two. Microanalysis
Here are my two suppositions on the matter:
1. Some writers really love breadcrumb storytelling.
Russel T Davies, for instance, on his run of Doctor Who (and, if you are reading it much later - I do mean the original one), loved that technique for his seasonal arcs. What is a Bad Wolf? Who is Harold Saxon? Well, you can watch very very carefully, make a theory, and see it proven right or wrong by the end of the season.
Naturally, mystery box writers are all about breadcrumb storytelling: your Losts and your Westworlds are all about giving you snippets to get your brain firing, almost challenging you to figure things out just ahead of the reveal.
2. We, as humans, love breadcrumbs.
And why wouldn’t we? Breadcrumbs are delicious. They are, however, a seasoning, or a coating. They are not the meal.
Too much metaphor?
Let’s unpack it and start from the beginning.
Pattern recognition colours every aspect of our lives, and it colours the way we view art to a great extent. I think we truly underestimate how much it’s influenced by our lived experiences.
If you are, broadly speaking, living somewhere in Western/North-Western Europe in the 14th century, and you see a painting in which there is a very very large figure surrounded by some smaller figures and holding really tiny figures, you may know absolutely nothing about who those figures are, but you know that the big figure is the Important One, and the small ones are Less Important Ones, and the tiny ones are In Their Care. You know where your reverence would lie, looking at this picture. And, I imagine, as someone living in the 14th century, you may be inspired to a sense of awe looking at this composition, because in the world you live in, this is how art works.
If you, on the other hand, watch a piece of recorded media and see the eyes of two characters meet as the violins swell, you know what you are being told at that moment. You don’t have to have a film degree to feel a sort of way when you see a green-tinged pallet used, when cross-cuts use juxtaposing images, or notice where your focus is pulled in any given shot. This stuff - this recognition of patterns - has been trained into us by the simple fact that we live in this time, on this planet, and we have been doing so long enough to have engaged recorded media for a period of time.
As humans, we notice things. Our brains flare up when they see something they recognise, and then we seek to find other similar details and form a bigger picture. This often happens unconsciously, but sometimes it does not. Sometimes we do it on purpose: finding breadcrumbs in stories is a little bit like solving a mystery. It allows us to stretch that brain muscle that puts two and two together. It makes us feel clever.
So yes, we love breadcrumbs, and, frankly, quite a lot of storytelling takes advantage of this. It’s very useful for foreshadowing, creating thematic coherence, or introducing narrative parallels and complexity. It’s useful for nudging the viewer into one or the other emotional direction, or to cue them into what will happen in the next moment, or what exactly is the one important detail they should pay attention to.
Because this is something media does intentionally, and something we pick up both consciously and not, it is very hard to know when to stop. We don't really ever know when all of the breadcrumbs have been collected. It becomes very easy to get carried away. There is a very specific kind of pleasure in digging into content frame by frame, soundbite by soundbite, chasing that pleasure of finding.
But it is almost never breadcrumbs all the way down. They are techniques to help us focus on the main event: the story. I truly believe those who make media want it to reach the widest possible audience, and that includes all of us who like to watch every single thing ever created with our Media Analysis Goggles on and those who are just here to enjoy the twists and turns of the story at the pace offered to them. And I think, sometimes in our chase to collect and understand every little clue we forget that media is not made to just cater for us.
One can call it missing a forest for the trees. But I would hate to mix my metaphors, so let’s call it missing a schnitzel for the breadcrumbs.
Part three. The Conspiracy Brain.
If you are there with me, in the midst of the excited frenzy, chasing after all those delicious breadcrumbs, then patterns can grow, merge together, and become all-encompassing theories. Let’s call them conspiracy theories, even though this is not what they truly are.
So, why do we believe in conspiracy theories?
One, Because We Have Been Lied To.
All conspiracies start with distrust.
If you are in fandom spaces - especially if you are in fandom spaces which revolve around a queer fictional couple - especially-especially if you have been in such spaces for a period of time, you have most certainly been lied to at one point or another.
We don’t even have to talk about Sherlock - and let’s not do that - but do you remember Merlin? Because I remember Merlin. Specifically, I remember the publicity surrounding the first season, with its weaponised usage of “bromance” and assertions that this whole thing is a love story of sorts, and then the daunting realisation that this was all a stunt, deliberately orchestrated to gather viewership.
And, because we were lied to in such a deliberate manner for such an extensive period of time, I genuinely believe that it forever altered our pattern recognition habits, because what was this if not encouragement to read into things? Now we are trained to read between the lines or see little cries for help where they might not be. Because we were told, over and over again, that we should.
(Yes, I think we are all existing in these spaces coloured by the trauma of queer-bating. I am, however, looking forward to a world where I can unlearn all of that.)
Two, Cognitive Dissonance.
The chain reaction works a bit like this: the world is wrong - it can’t possibly be wrong by coincidence - this must be on purpose - someone is responsible for it.
Being Lied To is a preamble, but cognitive dissonance is where it all originates. In so many cross-fandom theories I have noticed a four-step process:
A) this is not good
B) this author could not have made a mistake
C) this must be done on purpose
D) here is why
(Funny thing is, I have been on the receiving end of the small conspiracy spiral, and it is a very interesting experience. Not relevant to this conversation is the fact that a lot of my job revolves around storytelling. What is relevant is that my hobbies also revolve around storytelling. And one of them is DnD. Now, imagine my genuine shock when one of the players I am currently writing a campaign for noticed a small detail that did not make a logical sense within the complexity of the world, and latched on to it as something clearly indicating some kind of a secret subplot. Their thinking process also went a bit like this: this detail is not a good piece of writing — this DM knows how to tell stories well — this is obviously there on purpose. It was not there on purpose. I created a clumsy shorthand. I erred, in that pesky manner humans tend to. And, seeing this entire thought process recited to me directly in the moment, I felt somewhere between flattered and mortified.)
This whole line of thinking, I think, exists on a knife’s edge between veneration and brutal criticism, relentlessly dissecting everything “wrong”, with a reverent “but this is deliberate” attached to it like a vice, because it is preferable to a simple conclusion that the author let you down, in one way or another.
Three, Intentionality
I believe that there is no right or wrong way of engaging with stories, regardless of their medium, and assuming no one gets hurt in the process. While in a strictly academic way, there is a “correct” way of reading (and reading into) media, we here are largely not academics but consumers; consumption is subjective.
However, this all changes when intentionality is ascribed.
The one I find particularly fascinating is the intentionality of “making it bad on purpose” because, as open-minded as I intend to always be, this just does not happen.
It certainly does not happen in long-form media. Even in the bread-crumb mystery box-type long-form media.
When television programs underdeliver, they also underperform, and then they get cancelled.
If all the elements of Westworld Season 4 that did not sit together in a completely satisfactory way were written deliberately as some sort of deconstruction for the final season to explore, then it failed because that final season will now never come.
(There will likely never be a Secret Fourth Episode.)
And look, I am not here to refute your theories. Creativity is fun, and theorising is fantastic.
But, perhaps, when the line of thought ventures into the “bad on purpose” territory, it could be recognised for what it is: disappointment and optimism, attempting to coexist in a single space. And I relate to that, I do, and I am sorry that there is even a need for this line of thinking. It’s always so incredibly disappointing that a creator you believed to be devoid of flaws makes something that does not hit in the way you hoped it would. It’s pretty heartbreaking.
Unfortunately, people make mistakes. We are all fallible that way.
Four, Wildfire.
Then, when the crumbs are found, a theory is crafted, and intentionality is ascribed, all that needs to happen is for it to catch on. And hey, what better place for it than this massive hollow funnel that we exist in, where thoughts, ideas and interpretations reverberate so much they become inextricable from the source material in collective consciousness.
Conspiracy theories create alternate realities, very much like we all do here.
So where are we now?
I am not here to tell you what is right and what is wrong; what is true, and what is not. We are all entitled to engage with anything we wish, in whichever way we wish to do it. This is not it, at all.
All I am saying is… listen.
Do you hear that echo?
I do.
#fandom thoughts#fanon#good omens#good omens 2#bbc sherlock#merlin bbc#think piece#it's been years and I still have no idea how to tag#conspiracy theories#fandom content#all fandoms
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Could I request headcanons for Harleep, Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor with kind and patient gn s/o? This is quite self-indulgent of me because I have been told I'm too nice & so patient so I'm curious how they would react XD
first of all sorry for being so late, but my small brain has to process things multiple times to make sense, so i wrote this like... 5 times? So it takes me a while, but i hope that waiting was worth it.
Also i saw you sent a second ask to see if i recieved this one, so ill put dammon and rolan there cause this is starting to get a bit long:3<3 thank you so much for your patience!:3
Taglist: @sessils @spacebarbarianweird
Headcanon: BG3 men with kind and patient s/o. (pt. 1)
Zevlor:
Zevlor is emotionally a wreck already, he considers kindness a virtue and it definitely makes him swoon when he notices you put extra care in making sure he's treated with kindness. At the end of the day, he basically got bullied on all fronts when all he really wants is to prove himself worthy of the title he carried for so long.
Zevlor has a short temper too, and he appreciates so much your effort and patience in dealing with his outbursts, whether they are of rage- not towards you of course- or of sadness, you offer always a shoulder for him and he cherishes it so much.
He is lowkey jealous when he notices that your kindness is not mostly exclusive to him, he has learned that people can abuse one's patience and care, and 1. he doesn't want you to get hurt, 2. he wishes your kindness was maybe reserved to him. Call him selfish, but after being deprived of it for so long, he is hesitant to let go of it.
Astarion:
Initially he would be very wary, in his experience being nice always lead to him getting hurt, so why would he trust someone who's default reply is kindness? At the end of the day the last time someone was '''''kind''''' to him, he was turned in a vampire spawn, so he takes it extra slow, he has just regained control over himself, he won't blindly accept kindness. He's lowkey afraid you are just part of a bigger scheme that will bite him in the ass and leave him shackled and caged again.
Once he gets accustomed to your kindness and finally accepts it, he revels in the kindness you offer and your patience, especially the smallest gestures like opening a door for him. He will literally melt for it, he's already smitten, your kindness leaves him like mush in your hands.
Nevetheless every good side, comes with a negative one. He is dead afraid your kindness will bring you to get hurt. He often reminds you to be weary and keep all your kindness for people you trust (HIM), rather than going around and helping every lost soul that asks for help. He will fight you on this a few times- especially if you do get hurt or it is obvious you are about to- he will not bite his tongue and keep it for himself, and that's one of the moments when he's glad you are patient.
You understand where it comes from and you try your best to find a solution that would make both happy. Your patience of course doesn't stop there, he knows he's an handful: he carries an heavy trauma baggage and he has a feisty personality, yet you always show him you don't mind, that you are there for him and that he can take all the time of the universe to sort his problems out.
Wyll:
Wyll would find it so endearing, how you are ready to go to someone's aid, you stop on your tracks to support someone in need, and he would love seeing you being kind to everyone. It's probably one of the reasons why he falls in love with you. Unlike Astarion he encourages you to be kind to everyone, cause he considers it a virtue, he incourages you to be the best version of yourself, and he reminds you that if you do get hurt, he will be there to pick up the pieces.
As far as patience goes, he's grateful to the moon and back, he knows he is an handful, especially if he doesn't break his pact with Mizora and has to leave more times than ever. He makes sure once he's back though that he makes up for lost time, whether it is with gifts or by taking care of you.
Haarlep:
Harleep is so used to Raphael that honestly he's taken aback at first, living in the hells means that kindness is hard to come by and around Raphael? It's either a trick or a miracle, so he brushes it off, not repelled like Astarion would, but definitely not eager like Wyll either.. he would be probably the one that takes it as it is, just.. that. But when he gets used to it? He becomes unsufferable. So unsufferable that he goes around demanding Raphael to be treated with kindness and patience! He purrs whenever you are nice even the smallest, thanking you and praising you like a goddess. He even tries to be nice himself- to you only- and despite it has to be and effort, since he has never been exposed to much kindness, he does become a little more mindful, even asking before taking your form or just with small acts of services.
One time Rapahel makes sure to send a message to you through him. "Tav, Raphael asked you stop being nice to me, cause if i demand it from him as well, he's going to turn me into fertilizer", message delivered with a pout that begs exactly the opposite.
Harleep is another that is deeply afraid of your kindness. Let's be real, you can defend yourself as much as you want, but people tend to use people and your kindness is one of those characteristics evil people would pry on- he knows well since its literally part of what he does, and a facet of what Raphael does as well. He probably scolds you a lot for this reason, he does it in a sweet way- don't get me wrong- he sugarcoats the shit out of it, but he will let you know when you are about to get in peril or you are too careless with your kindness.
Gale:
Gale is touched by your kindness, already from the first days after meeting him.
You had helped him out of his blotched portal, you fed him artifacts, you didn't question his secrets or push him to reveal anything, and he doesn't give that for granted. Once he's closer to you, and he learns that you are unconditionally kind to everyone, he's scared.
He starts warning you to be a little less nice, to use your judgement before you blindly trust a stranger, but he doesn't push it past a warning. As much as he wants to protect you, he doesn't want to take away your chance to grow from your errors.
In matter of your patience he's so grateful, he spends days thanking you when he's still afflicted with the orb condition, he cooks as a form of apology or thanks depending what he did, he gets baths started for you, he's treating you as a queen/ king. He alread would do it, but with you? He's even more protective, he almost feels like he has to match your kindness and patience with as much attentions he can muster.
Halsin:
Halsin is a fair man you think he wishes everyone was kind, but he actually wants you to be fair, he wants you to be mindful of who you give kindness to, he wants you to be a reasonable judge rather than unconditionally nice cause it is the way of the nature as well. Nature is not only nurturing and lush, it's also the poisonous vipers and herbs.
Does he appreciate when you are kind? Absolutely, he thinks it's the best gift Silvanus has ever bestowed him, but it doesn't take away the fact that he wants you to be treated kindly as well, so the moment someone crosses the line and starts abusing your kindness or becomes rude, he's definitely stepping in to s h a m e the other person. "You are lucky you have met Tav, cause they are kind, but nature wouldn't be so understanding and patient" He says it with a rage you rarely see in his eyes.
He will do his best to remind you to surely practice kindness but also to be mindful who you help and who you are kind to, cause there's always rotten that can harm you, and lowkey if you get hurt he will invite you to take back what you gave.
Despite this Halsin considers kindness the bare minimum a person should be, and what stops him from encouraging you to be kinder, its just the knowledge that you might get hurt.
#baldurs gate 3#bg3#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#bg3 x reader#astarion#bg3 astarion#astarion ancunin#astarion bg3#vault: lynn ☆#ask: lynn ☆#asklynn☆: request#halsin x reader#halsin bg3#halsin x tav#tav x halsin#bg3 zevlor#zevlor x reader#zevlor x tav#bg3 haarlep#haarlep#haarlep x tav#haarlep x reader#gale x gn!reader#gale x reader#gale x tav#gale x oc#gale x durge#wyll x reader#wyll x tav
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