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#cuz the point is: I love history
witchyanya-7 · 1 year
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I really fucking love my History major, dude
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daddyplasmius · 1 year
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okay, so, I've collected a bunch of DP fandom stuff that I remember off the top of my head, specifically in chronological order & colour coded here in this post (fics/comics, tumblr posts, important imo) for no reason other than I saw a post asking for Phandom history & it triggered my biggest, most long-running hyperfixation & now I'm curious if anyone else remembers stuff.
this link is going to be the permanent version I will be updating, but I'm posting what I currently have (gonna go through my old laptop later for more) just to let people know. you can also find the link on my blog, but only on desktop. It isn't colour coded there, sorry.
please share more if you got anything else cuz I'm 100% sure I'm missing a lot of stuff & am too interested now. the biggest reason a lot of stuff isn't here is that I simply can't find it. second biggest reason is i forgor. things not included here aren't "unimportant," this is just the first stuff that comes to mind.
putting it under a cut 'cause it got kinda long
Mars by JadeRabbyt (2005)
Checkmate by pearl84 (2006)
Conversations of a Ghost Gabber by Cordria (2006)
The Foley Maneuver by bluemoonalto (2007)
One Thousand Years by Nylah (2008)
Lab Rat by AnneriaWings (2009)
Lost by Cordria (2010?) [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]
Phantom of Truth by Haiju (2011)
Ghost Deaths (2012)
Through Coals and Rain by Kakawot (2012)
Shadow of a Doubt by Haiju (2013)
Pink Pants (2013?)
Wes (2014) [original] [1] [2] [3] [4]
this "I'm Inevitable" gif (2014)
Space AU (2014)
Treading Water by The Full Catastrophe (2014)
Danny, you dead IDIOT!! comic (2014)
wash away the darkest days by anthrop (2014)
Reverse Trio (2014)
Inverse Trio (2014-2016) ALT
Halfas are "feral children" (2015)
Burn the Streets, Burn the Cars by anthrop (2015)
It's Not Gay if He's Dead by phantomrose96 (2015)
You Smell Like Death by starfleetrambo (2015)
Ghost Bird AU by @rest-in-peachs (2016?)
Things I Can(not) Do In Amity Park by RedHeadsRock1010 (2016)
KEtTLE by Cordria (2016)
Deeper, Darker by Silvermoonphantom (2016)
Danny Phantom Punches Butch Hartman In The Face by MistressVintage (2017)
Dannypocalypse (2017)
Ghost Train (2017?)
Ghost Physics by jayrockin (2017)
Ghost Infographics (2018)
The Taxonomy of Ghost Cores: An Observational Study (2018) Communicating with Ghosts Professionally: A Study (2018)
Species in Danny Phantom (2018?)
Diddles Piddles by diddly-darn-ghost (2018)
Broken Ectoplasm by ghostanimal (2019)
Ghost of Heroes by Enigmaris & ScarletNightFury (2019-2020)
do not stand at my grave and cry (i am not there, i did not die) by blueh (2020)
Undercover Phantom by artistfingers (2021)
Corruption is a Two Way Street by datawyrms (2021)
Things That Bleed by artistfingers, kkachis, & Perfectly_Inconspicuous (2022)
10,000 works on AO3 (2022)
Ghost Speak:
Danny's handwriting (2015?)
Cordria (2015)
Fiver-Rivers [1] [2] [3] (2019)
Rubber Chicken Sounds (2019)
#Danny Phantom#Phandom History Archive#do you even understand how hard it was to find the original Wes post????????#i spent like 2 hours on that alone#Wes Weston why are you so hard to find#just realizing that a lot of shit happened in 2014#like. 2014/2015 ish#i joined somewhere between 2014 & 2016 so i guess i literally came here right at the peak of phandom activity#the height of tumblr's paranormal activity. you might say#i think i'm just biased though#should i put my own fics on here. Phantom is pretty important to me being my first DP fic#& also the thing that got me back into writing#it's not very good but by god if i dont love it. & anyways i put Bird AU on here lol i think i can put Phantom up at some point. as a treat#also if any links are broken tell me cuz i'm not checking them again. it's 4am#reminder: gotta find those Bird AU fics i read & put em here. there ARE actual Bird AU fics. i know there are. i did not hallucinate that#it just might be the hardest thing on earth to do since that was years ago & i have no idea what they were called#anyway gonna add a fuckton of fics & (hopefully) tumblr posts when i go through my old laptop. i got everything bookmarked on there#like. so many fics. i had them organized too based on what kind of fic it was. but they all have stupid names cuz i was like 15#me: i should do my stencil art today. just to be a bit productive & also maybe make money#my brain: what if you organized Danny Phantom fandom posts into a big archive for people to look at? for free. until 4am.#me: you know what that sounds so much better let's do that
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waywardsalt · 9 months
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i think ive seen this idea around a few times but not too recently, but i dont really understand when people say that skyward sword fucked up zelda lore or whatever. idk if i missed anything in sksws story or just happened to miss something in general but ig. i dont really understand that opinion
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homo-house · 2 months
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is lovin hazbin hotel legal yet
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ariesbilly · 6 months
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That lil autistic witch girl obsessed with Halloween in trick r treat is me as hell
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thedisablednaturalist · 4 months
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How to not derail a physically disabled person's post -guide for abled neurodivergents
Hey this is a huge problem and a ton of my and other peoples posts about physical disabilities have been getting overrun with comments making it about mental illness and completely derailing the post.
Here's some things to think about before adding a comment/reply onto a physically disabled person's post:
Is the person talking about disabilities in general? Or are they only talking about physical disabilities?
Do they say specifically that neurodivergent people are welcome to comment? Or do they have a banner or tag that says DO NOT DERAIL
Check the comments and reblogs that are currently there. Are they already overrun with people making the same points you are? Are physically disabled voices getting drowned out?
Is the post tagged with cripplepunk only? (Aka not neuropunk or madpunk)
What is your addition adding to the conversation? How is it related to the original post? Is it shifting the conversation or generalizing it?
Did you actually read and internalize the post or did you only focus on adding your point of view.
Who is the intended audience for the post? Is it you? Are you listening or arguing?
Are you using their language for yourself?
Could the addition stand on its own as a separate post? (If so it probably should)
Think about how you would feel if someone did that to your post and everyone only talked about their problems and ignored your original statement. Think about how angry you'd be if they then said "you're not allowed to get mad cuz I said I wasn't derailing! I love you people!"
Also these questions can and should apply to other posts made by people who are frequently talked over (people of color, fat people, etc.) No your adhd autism does not count. There is a long history on this site of neurodivergent people talking over and taking over entire disability spaces and the problem persists today. This problem is why cripplepunk was created in the first place.
Yes mental illness deserves to be talked about. I'm proudly neurodivergent and often reblog posts from neurodivergent blogs. But you are able to make your own posts, you don't need to take over ours, especially when we are specifically pointing out how our physical disabilities differ from mental disabilities.
Also respect when someone asks you to please delete your addition. Mistakes happen what matters is how you respond to them. Learn from it and move on. Don't cry about the meanie cripples "censoring" you.
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bluecloudsandwhitesky · 7 months
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Ok so the ONE thing I will give Crowley a little bit of shit for ( and even then I’m so sorry bbg but just listen) is the “ no nightingales” line.
Cuz that was so unnecessarily cruel?? Like at this point they’d already broken each other’s hearts. This is before his last hurrah to communicate via smooch. So like just why?? Why throw that in his face? Your song? The symbol of your love? Yeah it smushed our hearts but it cut Aziraphale deeper than all of us combined. Look at his face after Crowley says this. He’s not just hurt. He’s angry. He’s pissed that not only has he been rejected ( his POV) but now Crowley is just kicking salt in the wound. I think this is the only time on their whole entire history Crowley has truly and willfully been cruel to his angel. Which like.. Crowley you dumbass! You can’t just say the worst possible thing to the person you love most in the universe and then kiss him!! On what planet was that going to work?!?!
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shotmrmiller · 1 month
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cbf! johnny or simon watching porn with you (bonus points if it leads to mutual masturbation)
i miss your cbf au’s 💔
me too :(
you'd be trying to show simon something on the phone and then the porn site pops up cuz you forgot to use incognito. you'd be screaming crying throwing up because the man you practically grew up with just saw your masturbation material. he, ofc, takes it in stride. uses this as his chance to offer himself to you. it ends in sex, not masturbation.
johnny on the other hand, is a horny mf who would tease the shit out of you for it. see, he always be taking your phone, holding it up way above your head to where you can't reach while he goes through your shit and oh ho ho. "what's this, bonnie?"
his voice is so fucking smug, you can practically hear him smiling. johnny probably wraps an arm around your waist to keep you firmly in place as he goes through your history. it gets him fucking feral because you're getting yourself off to this? bloody naughty is what that is. didn't take you as the type. he types in his own favorite video and is like let's recreate that, aye?
does not end in sex because he loves to tease and wants you to beg for him to fuck you. and he's not giving in. either you beg or you get nothing.
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domain-expand-me · 2 months
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I've been going bonkers over Megumi x DILF!Reader because I know that boy has some serious daddy issues, having the reader being completely oblivious and doing things that definitely get the boy hot and nervous is MY SHIT.
I would love to see you expand on your writing about DILF/MILF reader with Megumi a bit more
Imagine
Megumi Fushiguro with a DILF!reader
Aged up characters, reader is in theirs 40s, cuz when i say dilf i mean it.
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Imagine being the stereotypical dilf. Body broad and covered in a layer of fat, laying on top of strong muscles that comes from many years of physical labor. After moving into the house near the sorcerer campus, maybe after you got divorced, you somehow end up attracting the different sorcerers in the area.
But most of all, Megumi sticks around the most. You don’t truly notice at first, too busy digging around under the hood of whatever junker car you spend your time on, or banging around in your garage or shed like the most stereotypical dilf. But you start seeing him more and more, and at some point, you just start telling him to hand you different tools or help you out with your yard.
The first time you pat him on the back and praise him for helping, he goes bright red and immediately feels how hard he gets. Being oblivious and just thinking hes sticking around to be nice, you just ruffle his hair and move on, unaware of the way Megumi feels like his knees were about to buckle.
The other members from the campus notice pretty quickly where Megumi runs off to each day. Well, maybe not Yuji, but the others figure it out quicker than Megumi wants. Him returning with oil stains and wearing one of your ancient band t-shirts doesn’t help his case though.
Imagine Megumi realizing he has a huge daddy kink because of you. You jokingly say something like “who’s your daddy” after doing some kind of difficult task, and Megumi almost drops the toolbox he’s holding, blood rushing to both his heads, and he has to use the toolbox to cover the throbbing bulge in his pants.
Imagine Megumi coming to you for “dating advice”, since he wouldn’t be able to find it in himself to just make a move on you. Instead, he gets your dating history, and all the moves you pulled to get your ex. When he learns you are also into men, he almost has a heart attack. Maybe you’ve been drinking, having also offered Megumi some, since who are you to stop, and as you a slightly tipsy, you end up describing the best way to go down on someone in bed, and how to make a partner stay just from rocking their world on the regular.
Megumi ends up laying in bed later that night, teary eyed and huffing the shirt you let him borrow that day, his other hand tugging at his aching hard shaft, his entire body shaking and jolting from overstimulation as he made himself come over and over just thinking about you.
Imagine Megumi buying his first personal toy because of you. One day when you are laying by your pool, a pool you built yourself with Megumi’s help, naked as you assume you are alone, and you are too old to feel ashamed of your body. He gets a nice view of your cock, and even though its soft, he stumbles over his feet to hurry back to campus to take care of his very aching problem.
He spends a couple of lust fueled hours finding the perfect shape and size, getting a toy that has your skin tone. The next morning what one might call late post-orgasm clarity hits him. But when Megumi gets the package, he still squirrels it away, ashamed to use it. That is, until you just wind the poor boy up too much, walking around shirtless and sweaty, baseball cap on your head and shorts from your college days.
Imagine Megumi fingers deep in himself as he tries his damnest to suck down the entire length of the toy, tears gathering in his eyes as his gag reflex struggles against the silicone being forced down his throat.
Imagine Megumi clutching the sweaty shirt you had been wearing that day to his nose as he bounces on the toy, his own hard cock bouncing with his movements as he whines and whimpers, licking and sucking at the shirt that tastes and smells just like your sweaty manly musk.
Imagine how lightheaded he gets when he comes, having to choke down the noises he makes so as to not let everyone on campus know what he’s doing. Afterwards Megumi flops down on the bed, his entire frame shaking from the aftershocks of his orgasm as he pants into the sheets. His shaft gives another twitch when he takes another inhale of your shirt, the spikey haired sorcerer pushing himself up again, sinking down on the toy once more even as his insides throb from sensitivity.
Megumi would be too nervous and flushed around you to make a move on his own, at least when you are sober. But if you happen to be a little more than tipsy one day, sitting on your couch, trying to find something worth to watch on the tv, he might find the bravery and balls to crawl into your lap. If you ask about it the next day, he can just act like it was something your mind made up, right? So for now, he could indulge himself, grinding against you like a pup in heat, panting into your neck as your strong large hands grope at his hips and ass, your deep voice rumbling praise in his ear.
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sunkissed-zegras · 14 hours
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I’m just saying…. headcannons for paige with a bestfriend to partner who’s an introvert.
And I mean those introverts who seem quiet but the moment they get comfortable around you it’s over, but like only they get to see that side.
Paige seems like an extrovert that adopts introverts, like just imagine her having to drag her partner out of their room all the time cuz they’re a damn hermit.
-🐹
─ warnings | mention of drinking, teasing, fluff, nothin' else?
─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!
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honestly, you are so right in that assumption
she definitely gets closer with more introverted people, bc opposites DO really attract
when you guys first met it was your freshman year at uconn, at first you'd probably think she's WAY too much ─ maybe even cocky LOL (but who can blame her she's the best)
but when you spend more one on one time with her, you realize she's really funny and sweet
because you're so quiet, paige would be naturally drawn to you cus she gets to know you
so she just pesters you until you eventually give in and hang out with her
from that point on, the one is never seen without the other
you guys would always be together
but like... usually, you're just WITH paige so people don't really acknowledge you cus you're so quiet
but then paige would like force you to socialize
"this is y/n, i promise she's fun you just gotta put a little liquor in her-" "PAIGE."
she would push you toward her close friends the most, def like ice, azzi, nika and kk
ESPECIALLY kk!
and then you eventually would get really close with them, you all have your cute little friend group
you and ice would make fun of paige and kk together, you and azzi are kinda similar so you find yourself hanging out with her alone a lot more, and nika would force you out your shell a lot too
after a couple months of being friends, paige would definitely find herself catching feels
like i've said in my other headcanons, she just thinks you're such a big source of comfort for her and it slowly just becomes full-on adoration cus
she adores you
and you compliment her personality so well she is just like "i NEED to have her right now"
she ends up confessing one night after a really terrible game and then y'all kiss ...
and the rest is history 🤗🤗🤗
jk here's some relationship headcanons
again, you are so right nonnie
like i mentioned, one is never seen without the other
so you're always tied at the hip, especially at parties
at first she has to force you
like FULL force
she calls backup ofc ice and kk come and then its 3 vs 1
they end up winning
and this happens time and time again, you just get so worn down you'd rather just endure the damn party then listen to all three of them scream at you
which was the goal 🥰
and you're definitely the sober one 95% of the time so you will be taking care of a very drunk paige
(maybe some separate headcanons for her if yall want)
and sometimes even ice/kk but it's mostly just your girlfriend
anyway, yeah you take her home, take of her and then get her into bed
and when you try to leave she will be so dramatic, she forces you to stay with her
you don't mind cus you love cuddly paige
but the 5% when you're the one who's blackout drunk, paige is gonna take such good care of you
because you're so introverted when you're sober, you're probably gonna be such a rowdy drunk
yes im her shes me
so paige makes sure you don't get into trouble and gets you home safe and sound
but if you do something stupid, she will never ever let you live it down
"remember that time you jumped into the pool and-" "SHUT THE FUCK UP"
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↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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astralnymphh · 7 months
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patterned palmistry ⋆ | ellie williams headcanons
༺ ellie x witch!reader headcanons/scenarios ༻ ☽𖤐☾
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✧˖ ° 🕯 bright blessings!
an: being the witchy little gremlin i am i just had to throw some hcs together for myself but ofc i'd share them here🙄ive been practicing witchcraft since i was 15 so it felt fitting to incorporate it whenever i brace my delusions at the bootycrack of midnight that r all abt ellie 💀 regardless this def isnt gonna be my only witchy hcs post i just didnt wanna spoil all my ideas right away <3 tags: MDNI, slight nsfw (no detailed smut), boob jokes, witchcraft (obv), tarot, palm reading, mostly convos, flirting, not mentioned in the writing but u 2 r alrdy dating, playful bickering, more natural casual writing with some bigger words, no specific religion tied to the practice, generally a fluff piece, lowk cute moments. °________________________⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆__________________________°
I. ��� ellie definitely had a peak in curiosity the first time you mentioned you immerse yourself in the world of the craft, her ears perked figuratively and were tuned in to learn what that entails. she may not forfeit a nip of skepticism right away but she's more than happy to engross herself in the idea of it. you'd stay up till first light rambling on about the 'rituals', 'divination', the history tied to it and why you practice it. you'd be lying in bed adjacent to her, heavenward to the ceiling, but interwoven in a warm and loving cuddle with her palm residing on your lap whilst you chatted.
"mmmmh-" ellie's hum churns 'round your bedroom, "so that's why you collect rocks."
"crystals."
"same thing," she drones an inwardly giggle, "which crystal will give me superpowers?" a witty remark springs from her tongue.
"babe.." you pout, acting offended yet none is taken.
"didn't mean it like that, y'know I believe you, it's all just new to me." ellie tapes an assuring kiss to your temple, "tell me about your favorite crystals, hmm?" 
⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆
II. ☆ now because of this, anytime you're out on patrol and delight the opportunity of scavenging, she always keeps in mind to find you flowers, rocks, unused candles and other oddities of nature.
"hey babe! I found a black candle for'ya." ellie bolstered a long glass cylinder filled with an opaque charcoal wax, wick still intact, "and- ..some wild lavender." her other arm swings from behind her back, twines of dusty purple lavender upheld in a pinch.
"fuck yeah, needed this stuff.." you graciously tweak the lavender from her, whiffing up its poignant scent.
"always on the lookout.." her voice resembles her proud countenance outwards, essentially, a dorky smirk.
⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆
III. ☆ obviously, the second you mentioned the art of tarot to her, she begged for a reading. whenever a card flew from your shuffling motions, she'd patiently wait for you to place it before her and then she'd swipe it up and admire the art piece detailing the cardstock.
"whew! look at the boobs on this one!" 
"oh- my god, of course you'd point that out." you snatch the card from her, shamelessly ogling the nude depiction that had her attention.
"you're looking at them too!"
"cuz' you said something 'bout it!" you flick the card towards her face, noting, "those are some nice boobs though." 
"why thank you~" 
"wasn't talking about you, idiot!" 
"eh, but.. urs' are the best." her hoarse tone binds a nonchalant flirtiness in its rumble.
"oh really? should we compare the.. four?"
that really stole her attention.
⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆
IV. ☆ the first time you entertained her with a palm reading, it had her all dappy and touched to the essence at the paltry contact you made with her hand. your fingerprints drafting her calloused palms with such a gentle focus on every river lining her hand. she just wanted to smother you with kisses.
"and… this is your heart line." your finger hovers the crevice of her palm-pads stretching from index to pinkie, "ah.. it's a broken one.."
"is that.. bad?" her juniper eyes study your expression meticulously.
"it just means u're closed off, stubborn, have some emotional trauma.. stuff like that." you mindlessly fiddle with her fingers, "lines can change though, so.."
she nods, taking in the insight. she licks her slightly chapped lips clean, "am I stubborn?" her voice rises partially an octave, bending playfulness in her question.
"mm.. no."
"why'd you hesitate?"
"well- the only times ur' stubborn is refusing to let go whenever you hug me- ur' a life-size sloth!" 
"I like huggin' you though." a puppy pout frowns on her lips, "you're like a pillow!"
and oh, how your heart capers a beat, "is that all I am, williams?"
her swift speech conjuncts, "whaddid' I say about that name?!"
"I don't know, I think you like it." 
"nuh-uh I don't!"
you pepper a haste kiss to her knuckles still forcepped in your clasp, totally deterring the crime you've just committed when a half impish half taken aback smile creaks her lips.
"c'mere." vaults from her tongue before she lunges her body forward and tackles you in a saucy position riddled with love bites. guess you'll be reading her palms in a different way tonight.
⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ V. ☆ an bonus hc, you'd totally mention out of the void about her tattoo n the mystic meanings surrounding moths, like, its for sure one of the topics you'll ramble about one night cause you just feel so wise for knowing. "y'know, moths play a pretty large role in the metaphysical world." "really? i mean, i knew they had some kind of.. 'symbolism' to them-" ellie's hand rolls over the knoll of her forearm, reading the bumps glamoured in that beautiful inking. "yeah, like- luna moths represent transformation, renewal.. oh! and death-head moths are an omen of death.. an- and black witch moths mean either good luck, or bad-" ellie is amused at your prattle shown by her raspy giggles, legitimately having to conceal her scrunched face. "what?" "nothin' you- you're just so cute." "stop.." the embarrassment catches up to you, now having to hide your face to the shadows beneath your hands. her finger cranes out to hook and uncover your nerdy grin, assuring, "never stop tellin' me bout this stuff, ok babe?" a wide delighted beam syncs on her cheeks. goddess above, her dimples and nasal lines are to die for. ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆
𖤐
in general; she's a curious dork n will ask you oh so many questions, i mean, she loves space and a futuristic sci-fi comic for crying out loud, she's alrdy so imaginative so ofc she'd be open to a realistic amount. she'd also be so respectful and helpful n defend ur practice with so much love. maybe she'd pick up some little traditions and customs like folding letters a specific amount of times, drawing little pentacles, mixing liquid in specific directions, just the simple things that grow on her.
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vhstown · 8 months
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time out (part 1)
[boxer au] — 42!miles g morales x gn!reader
summary: Miles Morales makes boxing history. Your boyfriend isn't there to celebrate.
warnings: angst-ish, description of (boxing) injuries, self-destructive behaviours, briefly implied death, pov switch (yay), gtranslate spanish
word count: 3.9k
a/n: ive never written 42 miles before but he's a cool lil guy split into two parts cuz it was too long 😭 semi-edited (for the millionth time)
PART 2 → / THE AU
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"Just six rounds in, Miles Morales knocks out the Vulture!"
Screams and cheers exploded from your phone as you laid in bed, watching the recap of your boyfriend's boxing match. Your eyes were straining from how close you were holding the screen to your face; this was probably the third time you’d watched Miles’ win. After training to hell and back, he’d made it to the national league with you and Aaron to support him. He did more than just “make it”, in fact. His “revolutionary” victory was plastered all over social media and the news. Everywhere you looked was: “17-YEAR-OLD NYC BOXER OVERTAKES LIGHTWEIGHT CHAMPION ‘VULTURE’ IN US NATIONALS”. Miles Morales — your boyfriend — had made boxing history.
The giddy grin on your face only grew wider as he came up again on screen, sporting the stoic expression he'd perfected over the last few months behind the overly-done editing and animations of the recap. As much as you'd wanted to go out and see him live (though begging your family to let you go to Vegas wasn’t exactly feasible), he'd made it clear he didn't want you, or anyone for that matter, in that arena. It was something about having "total focus" — and it must've worked, you thought, as you watched him give his post-fight interview.
“I jus’ hope you watchin’, cause I’m here. Miles Morales made it!”
Despite his boyish, adrenaline-fuelled shout at the mic, the quiet laugh you let out was one of pride rather than embarrassment. He had every right to celebrate, and you were watching, even if it wasn’t live. Everything he'd done up until this point was well worth it: the constant training, sparring, the late nights and early mornings — maybe even the countless unanswered texts and missed calls too. Miles had worked himself to the bone, and while it might've worried you at the time, it was nothing compared to the satisfaction you felt while watching him on screen. He knew what he was doing; Miles was semi-professional at this point. You had to let him do his own thing, even if that meant letting him go for a while.
Right now, though, Miles was home from Vegas. Tapping out of the video, you scrambled to your messages. The last ones were from you, sent weeks ago, a "good luck" and "i love you" read and without a response. Your fingers kept missing the keys, and you frowned at yourself until you finally were able to hit send.
CONGRATS BABY!!! Not delivered
IM SO PROUD OF YOU Not delivered
You tried resending them, only to be met with the same red message.
why arent my texts sending Not delivered
miles??? Not delivered
Not delivered? It'd almost been three days since the tournament; Miles always had his phone on.
"To leave a message, please press one—" The call went to voicemail for the third time. Your stomach swirled with something like uncertainty. It didn't even ring at all. Miles made it a habit to always be available, so why...?
Boxers needed time to recover, he was probably just tired and turned his phone off. Or he could be busy with an interview; Miles Morales was sort of a celebrity right now — who wouldn't want to talk to the 17-year-old boxing prodigy? You knew you wanted to, prodigy or not.
It was probably because you hadn’t seen Miles in so long, but possibilities kept forming in your head, disappearing just as fast. What if he blocked you? Or he could’ve changed his number. Were you over? No. Nope. No way. Not like this.
There was one other reason that made some sort of sense, but you decided to think against it. Miles had made it to the semi-finals in entire the National League. It was over; he'd gotten what he wanted. He was supposed to be resting right now.
Miles wasn't that stupid, right...?
You pulled up Rio's contact. It was better to be safe than sorry.
Riiiiiiing, riiiiiiing…
Better for him to be safe than sorry — or stupid.
"Hello?"
"Hola, tía, uh, could I speak to Miles?" You felt just a little crazy as you held the phone to your ear, but there was no harm in calling his mom.
"Ah, he's not home right now — said he was going out with his tío."
"Oh… Do you know where they went?"
"I'm not sure. Something important. About a... contract?"
"Contract…?" you muttered to yourself. “Okay… thank you.” It wasn't like you knew anything about a contract, though it wasn't like Miles would tell you anyway. At least he was safe, and with Aaron. It was probably important, official — something that didn't involve you. Not a lot of things in Miles’ life involved you, it seemed.
"How have you been?” Rio's voice interrupted your thoughts. You had called her out of nowhere, and after a while. "Have you eaten yet?"
"Oh, um..." The last time you'd talked to Rio was… right before Miles had left for Vegas. Well, you hadn't exactly talked. All you remember is just comforting her in silence. "Yeah, tía. Have you?"
"I have, but I've just been all over the place recently. So many reporters…" Rio's voice lifted up slightly in exasperation. You could only imagine what it was like for her. Your feelings suddenly felt a lot less significant, and you were back to your comforting mode all over again.
"I see. Must be exhausting." You attempted a polite laugh, which came out more like a sigh. If only you could be as patient as Rio…
"I'm so proud, though." Her voice warmed with a smile. If your chest ached with melancholy or empathy, you didn't know. "I didn't want him to leave home so soon. I still think this whole… professional thing is a bit too much, but… I want to trust him also."
"I'm sure he'll be fine, tía. If he's in the nationals already, he's probably getting a lot of support." It was more like you were trying to convince yourself. "I'm sure he has great coaches... and he's got me and Aar— uh, his uncle, too."
"I know…" For a moment, you weren't sure if either of you had anymore to say.
"…If not, I'll have to go there myself and give them a piece of my mind, eh?" she continued. You weren’t sure if it was a joke, but a smile formed on your lips anyway.
"Yeah…" A quiet laugh leaving your mouth at the image of Rio cussing out Miles' poor manager, in two languages no less. No wonder he was such a good boxer — Rio must have passed down her fighting spirit. "Maybe you'd even get signed,” you joked, the image of that even more amusing (and a scary possibility.)
Rio let out her own laugh, and your smile only grew; talking to her always made you feel better. "Me? Boxing? Nunca (Never.) — I'll work in that hospital until the end of me."
There was another stretch of silence. You thinned out a sigh, trying not to let the smile leave your face, even if she wasn’t there to see it.
"Come over for dinner tomorrow. I'll tell Miles to come and get you."
"Sure, tía, I'd love to." He probably just needed a break. Not from you specifically, but in general.
"You know tú y Miles sois mi vida, ¿bien?" (you and Miles are my life, right?) It wasn’t often Rio said that, but you always remembered every time she did, and how it made you feel — like you were family. Rio was pretty much a second mother to you. It made you wonder what Miles' father would've been like.
"Well, it's getting late, and I have a lot of laundry to fold." Rio's tone had a fake sort of enthusiasm — tiredness? You couldn’t really tell with her; the woman was always upbeat. "Take care of yourself, okay?"
"I will." It was late, you realised, and the sky outside your window was a lot darker than it had been before. "You too, tía."
“Descansa, ¿sí?” (Get some rest, yes?)
“Sí, tía.”
The call ended, and you were left facing your messages, a bittersweet feeling hugging you from behind. Right now, Miles was out with Aaron, about some contract, probably to do with boxing…
But why weren't your texts going through?
miles are you ok? Not delivered
im really proud of you Not delivered
i wish i couldve seen you live Not delivered
It wasn’t like there was much point, but…
i love you Not delivered
Maybe it was just out of habit; maybe you just missed him. Your reflection frowned at you behind the messages, thumb hovering over the power button to shut your phone off, until your phone pinged with a notification — Aaron was texting you.
Hey man
Out of town
LMK if miles breaks in
You sat up immediately, fingers floating uselessly above the keys for a moment.
sure Read at 11:24PM
are you out of town already? Read at 11:25PM
Ping!
Yeah
@ Queens
Miles was with Aaron about some “contract”... and Aaron was in Queens?
You knew Miles hadn't blocked you, or turned his phone off — he had no signal. And there was only one place in Brooklyn you could think of that had no reception, and that MIles had any reason to be in. It was also the one place you didn't want him to go to: that damn warehouse.
The place he’d spent training all those weeks — what reason did he have to be there right after finishing the tournament? Putting on your jacket, blinking back the sleepiness and collecting the fleeting remains of patience you had left, you could only hope that Miles had even a shred of common sense with him.
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THWACK! THWACK! THWA— Crack!
"Mierda..." (Shit...) Miles hissed, drawing his glove away from the punching bag. His hand was paralysed for a moment, a deep, gnawing pang running through his fingers down to the rest of his arm. The tight gloves only suffocated him more, doing nothing to ease the pain as he gritted his teeth and waited for it to dull down.
Why was he even here? It was over — that Norman bastard had blown him off hours ago. It felt like a couple minutes, the words still fresh in his mind. Searing pain shot through his hand when he tried to flex his fingers, the rest of his muscles starting to ache too. This was going to hurt after the adrenaline wore off. Damn it, Morales.
The walls flashed white all of a sudden, a faint rumble of thunder interrupting the pounding of his heartbeat as he tried to straighten himself out. It was quiet, except for the sounds of the incoming storm. The playlist he was listening to had finished ages ago — your playlist. If he didn’t want to think about you, he wasn’t doing a good job of it.
Rain blasted quietly against the windows, and Miles’ eyes stung with dryness as he squeezed them shut. There was no way he'd be able to go back now, not to you, definitely not to his mom. She'd probably go on and on about how he should've taken his jacket, how he ruined his hair in the rain again, maybe how he wasted his damn time being a boxer...
It was probably fair; his mom had enough on her plate trying to support them both — especially him right now. She’d done everything in her power to make sure he got to Vegas, and he’d just left her alone again right after. But how was he meant to face her now? He was supposed to make her proud, make his dad proud, but it wasn’t like he had any pride left after he’d lost his contract. The Green Goblin had probably set the record for fastest knockout when Miles lost to him. Of course just the semi-finals weren’t enough; Norman Osborn was the big shot of boxing, and if Miles lost to some rookie in just about 15 seconds, then maybe he wasn’t worth the investment.
It didn’t make sense — nothing about The Green Goblin (or “Harry”, whatever they liked to gossip about) made sense. He’d just debuted, but didn’t even look like a boxer; he didn’t stand right, his style was inconsistent, his head movement was all over the place, but his punch had almost knocked Miles’ brain straight out of his skull. It was almost superhuman. Even with no openings, the freak of nature had forced his way through like an animal. And he was scrawny, not nearly as built as Miles at least, like he should’ve been in the weight class down. Either way, the asshole was being celebrated, and Miles was out of a contract.
And Miles had just stood there, while Norman berated him and tore Miles’ dream apart right in front of his very eyes. Maybe he’d hoped too much as an “amateur” boxer. That’s all he was, apparently — no matter how hard he worked, or what he achieved, or what he promised.
“Why should I keep you? The Vulture was destined to lose at his age.”
“Even rigged matches wouldn’t get you anywhere.”
“I mean, you’re as good at fighting as one of those street kids.”
“That’s all you were before I decided to give you a chance, no?”
The image of the Norman’s uncanny, sneering face sent his good fist reeling towards the punching bag. Should’ve pummelled his pelirojo (redhead) ass to the ground—
"Miles!"
The glove crumpled mid-air against the bag, arm going rigid. It was silent as he let out a breath through his teeth — he wasn’t hearing things, was he?
The rush was starting wearing off, his mind starting to cloud and pain faintly radiating again from his other hand. His good fist tightened inside the glove, pushed against the bag which was still and awkwardly tilted.
You’re losing focus, just punch the damn thing—
"Miles, what the hell are you doing here?"
The noise of the door shutting made him turn around, floor squeaking under his stumbling feet. It was you by the door, breathing just as heavily as him and dripping head to toe with rain, in a jacket that was way too thin for any sort of weather.
Dios... (God...) He knew he couldn’t be hallucinating that disapproving look on your face.
Rain was pattering gently against the glass as he pulled his arm away away from the bag, letting it swing in front of him before his eyes met yours.
"It's midnight, what are you..." A sharp intake of breath interrupted your words — a shiver.
"What’re you doin’ here...?" Miles asked instead through a grimace. His voice came out wrong — hoarse. Cold sweat was clinging to his skin, and his throat was dry and tightening. A mess — that’s what you were talking to right now, barely your boyfriend. All he could do was stare as the rush died down and his senses were coming back to him. The fog in his mind made it hard to speak, even harder to look at you.
"My texts and calls weren't going through— You weren't with Aaron or your mom, I just..." You sucked in another breath through your teeth; raindrops were glistening on your skin. He should’ve just stayed home, damn it. "Was just worried."
Well, he certainly looked worrying, even more so than you. Swallowing back his breathlessness wasn’t helping; it was like he’d ran a marathon with his fists. The pain from his knuckle was starting to bleed into the rest of his hand so much so that it might’ve been broken.
"'M good... You, though?" He let out a bit of a growl to clear his throat before deciding to cut straight to the chase: you’d come here in the middle of the night, in the rain, by yourself. As much as he was being an idiot right now, the amount of times he’d told you to not do any of those things, pleaded with you even, was making you look like the delirious one in his eyes. Miles was being stubborn, but he knew you were worse.
“You insane…?” he muttered, taking a step away from the bag. “Did Aaron tell you to come here or sumn’?"
"No, he was supposed to be with you," you shot back, eyes narrowing at him from under your hood before thunder bellowed from all around. The rain was growing into a loud static noise, and your voice was muffled as your expression grew more exasperated. "You came home 3 days ago and you didn't even text me. Yeah, I probably should've texted you, and I tried, but now you're here training alone again when your mom thinks you're with Aaron and—"
"You come here to scold me?" His jaw crunched a little as he tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice. Miles wasn’t trying to be mad at you — he was just mad in general. It just so happened to be in your direction right now.
“Huh? No, I came here because you scared the hell out of me — and Aaron told me to not let you break into his place.”
If it was supposed to be funny, the laugh he let out was anything but amused. At least Aaron wasn’t here for him to disappoint too, or get a weirdly-phrased life lesson from, or both. “Well I’m not breakin’ in, and I told you, I’m good, so I don’t get why you’re still here.”
You stepped a little closer, and Miles’ heels dug into the ground to keep himself from moving. “Isn’t it obvious? Or are you just being difficult on purpose?”
“Difficult?” he mirrored dryly, trying to push back the growing exhaustion clouding his head.
“Can you not just take a break for once? It’s over, Miles; you already won—”
“I didn’t win.” The walls echoed with his voice, words having escaped on their own. It wasn’t at you, but he didn’t know what he was mad at, resolve fading as he watched your face straighten with realisation.
“Don’t tell me that’s why you’re here…”
His fingers unconsciously clawed into the boxing glove, pain shoot through his hand. Nothing came out of his mouth, but his silence was loud — incriminating. That was the reason, right? That he didn't win?
“Kid didn’t stand a chance.” What was the point of you being here?
“A one-punch concussion — on a newbie, no less.” It was over, like you said.
“It’s a shame, I bet on him too.” Everyone had given up on him.
“You should be resting right now— you’re shaking, Miles.” So why wouldn't you?
“No ‘m not…” is all he could muster, flexing his shoulders uncomfortably. Your hand was on his arm before he could realise, and he was met with a stern look as he tried to keep his gaze from shaking too.
The velcro on his gloves crunched as you started undoing them, and he couldn’t bring himself to stop you. It’s not like he had the energy.
“You coulda’ got hurt on your way here.” The croak in his voice made him sound more hopeless than reprimanding as you slipped off the first glove, pausing half-way down his palm. His bare palm.
“…I could’ve got hurt?” Miles held back a sigh as he was made to look at his own hand. Bruised, blackened, branded with anger — it hurt more to look at it than anything. “You didn’t wear your wraps?”
The other glove slid off, revealing the fresh, festering swelling coming from his middle knuckle — the aftermath of that sickening cracking noise. You took his curled hand, easing up his middle finger and making him hiss under his breath.
“Think you can straighten it?” you muttered, gently trying to do it yourself only to lose his hand from your grip.
“’S gonna be fine,” he mumbled, eyes fixed to the side as his hand closed back up.
“It won’t if you can’t move it properly.”
“You a doctor now?”
“Nah, but your mom’s a nurse.” You carefully held his hand by palm, thumb tracing over the tender, split skin, his fingers wrapping around the side of your hand in futile protest. He’d have to bother his mom again — he didn’t even think about that. “You basically just punched yourself.”
Everything you were saying was right — it always was. He hated that fact.
“You a boxing expert too?” he thought to retort.
“Thought that was supposed to be you.” Miles’ eyes narrowed, and yours narrowed in response. “I don’t get it, baby...” you sighed, shaking your head a little as you put down the gloves to the side.
Baby. His breath almost hitched. You were dating, and it didn’t even seem like it anymore. Not after all those weeks apart. The word didn’t even feel endearing, it was condescending, like he didn’t deserve it. Maybe he was being a baby, and maybe he always had been. You were the one who always had to drag him out of this make-shift gym. Right now was no different, except…
“…Why are you still doing this?” he heard you mutter, still turned away with his hand in your grip. You didn’t even know the half of it.
“Why are you still here?” His hand tried to slip away again, but you only took it by the wrist instead, now facing him.
“Why won’t you answer my questions, Miles?” Your voice deadened into a whisper, only serving to frustrate him.
“I don’t know why you care so much.” He let out a quiet huff, staring at your hand when your grip ceased to relax.
“I care because you look like you’re about to pass out and I can’t let my boyfriend kill himself over something stupid—”
“I’m not killing myse—” A pained groan escaped his mouth as you ruthlessly pushed up his injured finger.
“Don’t push me, Miles.” Oh, you were serious.
“You’re pushin’ sumn’,” he strained through gritted teeth. “Mierda… quit it already.”
The pain tore on another moment, and he was just now realising how bad it actually hurt. All you were doing was staring at him, brows knitted together. “Cariño, please…” he whispered, a wince forming on his face.
Your hand loosened, and he let out a quiet, frustrated, somewhat relieved sigh.
Still a sucker for nice words... He didn’t say them as much as he would’ve liked.
“You need to take a time out,” you stated after a beat of silence. The expression on your face was serious again, killing any sense of tenderness you might’ve shown.
He freed his hand from your grip with the opportunity, before giving you a dubious look. “Like, for kids?”
“Like for boxers, dumbass.” Your gaze followed his retreating hand for a moment before falling back on his eyes. “But if you want me to treat you like a kid…”
“I’m good.” Another roar of thunder rang out before he could add anything, and the rain was so heavy that anything you could see from the windows became a blur.
“…You got your jacket?” you suggested, without much hope.
The idea only made Miles’ eyes squeeze shut again. A shallow exhale left him, and he tried not to let his fatigue cloud his judgement. If he kept talking stupid to you, he’d probably have worse to worry about than a broken knuckle. “You think imma go outside?”
All you could do was sigh. It seemed like the two of you would be in “time out” for a while.
🕸️🔭👾
thank you for reading part 2 soon but then again its not my fav fic in the world 💔 i rewrote this like 8 trillion times and it still wasn't clicking for me 😭 idk i just got sick of editing it again and again
this isn't as short as my usual fics because i felt like i needed to add context... I've never written an au or anything remotely original so this is just yeah... im tryna figure it out! i have . too much lore for this au
reblogs appreciated lmk if you did like it (i hope this is someone's cup of tea lmao)
catch my atsv masterlist here !
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layaboutace · 4 months
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the tenth doctor was so out of character in the girl in the fireplace its painful, the past mentions of him being with other girls throughout history when all his previous incarnations were pretty definitively asexual and aromantic, was SO PAINFULLY moffat. of course the doctor has shacked up with histories hottest and most powerful broads, thats what moffat would do with a time machine after all! the doctor never once expressed interest of a sexual desire with rose, he simply loved her, and yet not only does he "dance" with madame pompadour, but he meets her as a child, only to meet her again with her having completely fallen for him as an adult! when to him its been 2 minutes! all because moffat was read the time travelers wife once and became fixated on the plot point of meeting a woman you'll later have sex with when shes a child! and ofc over the around 12 hour time span hes known her he falls in love and when hes seemingly trapped there he decides hes not going to try to get to the future, he'd rather stay with the woman he loves, rose who? moffat treats her so badly in this episode too, shes the stupid poor girl in comparison to the refined and upper class madame pompadour, who instantly has a connection to the doctor, and the doctor seemingly has the same and immediately gains feelings for her! not only does he get jealous and competitive with the king of france, but he literally rides in on a white horse to save her fully prepared to spend the rest of her life together! it feels like it would be better with ANY other nuwho doctor, minus the romantic stuff, cuz none of the doctors would even begin to fall in love that quickly. honestly what i hate most is his treatment of rose, he just completely sidelined her this episode, and has the doctor just be rude to her, the story makes her out to be the inferior option to madame pompadour, loud and dumb and "like her mother" when trying to calm the doctor down like, the doctor would never say that! steven moffat when i catch you, this episode has been praised far too long, just like pretty much everything moffat does strong premise at the expense of characters worth a damn
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Hiii congrats on 2k! 🥰😘 can I request canon post war Levi x reader exploring the world they fought for and cuz I have to include this the reader blurting out how pretty he is and him calling her a brat
Sorry for this oddly specific weird request I'll go back to my corner now lol
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I LOVE THIS PIC SM SDKFJKSDJF HE'S SO POUTY
turned this into a oneshot oops LMAO i just love postwar dadvi sm 😭
also shout-out to @chaotic-on-main for the cute idea of levi trying to explain the rumbling through shitty drawings
Just Being You | 2K Follower Event | Post-War Dadvi Oneshot
✧ word count ➼ 1.2k ✧ notes ➼ post-war, fluff, levi's attempt at explaining the Rumbling to a six year old lol
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"Daddy, why is the island the only place that doesn't need to be fixed?"
You looked down at your six-year-old daughter that had been spinning in circles just a few seconds ago that was now kneeling next to Levi in his wheelchair, bombarding him with questions regarding the Rumbling.
The three of you were currently on a boat traveling back from Paradis Island, having decided to take a few weeks of vacationing to see the Titan-free world that so many had been sacrificed for. You were on your way back from the island after showing your daughter where her parents met, as well as some of the nicer areas of the island that wasn't overwhelmed with their military forces, like the beach or the meadow that you and Levi commonly snuck off to when you were overwhelmed.
You quickly tried to formulate some response about how it was too complicated for you to explain right now, not wanting to expose your six-year-old to the horrors that nearly caused the extinction of humanity, but you looked towards Levi as he reached into his bag to pull something out to help answer her question.
This wasn't that much of a surprise to you. Levi wasn't a fan of lying to her. He never was the type to sugarcoat or make up some cheesy story to avoid exposing kids to the grim reality of what had happened, and he especially wasn't the type to do that to his own kid.
You saw him pull out his sketchbook that he had recently picked up, wanting to pursue some type of hobby that he could do from the couch or his wheelchair on days when his knee was flaring up.
You watched as he began to draw out the Titans, explaining how big they were compared to humans, and how colossal the Titans involved in the Rumbling were, eventually going on to explain that the big Titans came from the island and spread throughout the world. You found yourself considerably impressed with how he was explaining the war without going into too many details regarding the xenophobia the world had against the Eldians.
"What's that?" your daughter asked, genuinely interested, but also confused as Levi began drawing the structure of the Walls.
Levi wasn't a great artist. He had started drawing the Walls to explain how the Titans moved during the Rumbling, but it was from a top-down perspective, so it just looked like three circles surrounded by stick figures.
"The walls that used to be on the island," he explained with a sigh.
"Is that the island?" she asked, pointing to the dot at the center that was supposed to represent Mitras. "Why were the Walls built in the ocean?"
"They weren't," he explained, trying to hide the irritation in his voice over his inability to draw something comprehensible. "That was Mitras, the Capital and center of the island. The Walls surrounded it."
You watched her nod rapidly as he explained whatever it was that he was trying to draw. Despite how much he was struggling to get his point across, she seemed to be genuinely interested in the history of the island.
"Why are there people floating?" she asked after he began explaining how you used mobility gear to fight against the Titans to compensate for how large they were.
"Is that supposed to be me?" you asked, finally leaning over to see what it was that he was trying to draw, and pointing at a stick figure that vaguely had a hairstyle matching yours.
Levi paused and you could tell that he was getting exasperated with the comments and questions.
You could almost hear him blatantly groan in relief as he cursed underneath his breath once your child's attention was ripped away by a dog belonging to another one of the tourists running by.
"Mommy, can I go play with the puppy?" she asked excitedly while tugging at your shirt.
You nodded, reaching down and fixing a strand of her hair that had formed into a loop after getting tangled.
"Just don't go too far, okay? And be nice to them. I'm sure that poor puppy is overwhelmed."
You watched as she ran off to play with the dog while incoherently explaining Levi's history lesson to them.
Sighing, you sat down on the bench next to Levi as he pinched the bridge of his nose, quickly developing a headache from how flustered he had gotten while trying to explain a somewhat complex topic to his child that had yet to develop an attention span.
"Maybe we can pay for you to get art lessons once we get back home."
"Don't start," Levi grumbled, barely letting you finish your sentence.
You chuckled at his reaction as you grabbed at the drawings he had produced. They were indeed terrible and barely comprehensible, but ended up looking quite cute as a result, despite the fact that they were attempting to depict a bleak reality.
Your smile gradually faded as you got reminded of the horrific events that occurred surrounding the Rumbling, and even before then, when you were trapped within the Walls, with your comrades dying left and right while fighting in what seemed like a hopeless war.
"Lev'," you voiced, getting his attention, "don't you think she's a bit too young to be explaining all this to?"
He glanced over at you.
"What, you want me to lie to her instead?"
"She's six," you reminded him. "I don't know if she can even comprehend the fact that nearly all of humanity was wiped out."
Levi paused for a moment, knowing that you were right. It was a big topic to be explaining to someone so young. Still, he wouldn't have felt right lying to her in a vain effort to protect her innocence while living in a world that was nowhere near innocent.
"She's a smart kid," he eventually murmured. "She'll manage."
After noticing that you weren't responding, he looked over at you, and saw you eyeing him with a warm smile on your face, despite the fact that the two of you were in disagreement over this topic.
"What?"
"Hmm? Oh nothing, it's just..."
You trailed off, slightly shaking your head as you tried to keep the smile on your face from growing too wide.
"I just love seeing you with her like this. It's almost like it's in your nature—being a dad," you mused, your heart warming. "Never thought I'd be fortunate enough to get to see papa Levi on a daily basis."
You looked at him as you smiled, noticing the slight tint that had appeared on his cheeks.
"Plus, I never get to really appreciate how god damn pretty you are when you're just...being you."
Levi was clearly struggling to hide the blush forming on his cheeks and ears at this point, and cleared his throat as he shifted around in his chair after averting his gaze.
"What?" you teased, noting his struggles in maintaining that aloof demeanor that you had worked so hard to break down throughout your relationship.
"You're such a brat sometimes," he grumbled, annoyed—and a tad embarrassed—at the fact that you pointed out his natural tendency when it came to fathering your child.
You chuckled as you leaned forward and placed a gentle and quick kiss on his cheek.
"Love you too, Ackerman."
tagging since this was an actual oneshot! :3 #: @chaotic-on-main @levisbrat25 @leviismybby @moonmalice @averysmolbear @cathybarn @tclbts @emiwhore @bejewelledd @sad-darksoul @ackermendick @aomi04 @apolloshaiku @laraackerman @pulpolicia @raenacreates @nube55 @roseofdarknessblog @saenora @noctemys @sixpennydame @sleepyfairyxo @heichoucleanfreak @svftackerman @catskze @nixie-writes-aot @la-undercover-latina @v4mp-wife @darkstarlight82 @professorweezy @braunsbabe
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yoo whats up i have a request for you, poly ghostface x male reader who has quite the similar personality to stu, but the reader is a metalhead, especially into death metal. he has like hella long hair and a massive cd stash (maybe even a pot stash too..) i dont really mind if it takes place before or during the kills, but billy & stu are like highly intrigued by all of the gorey album covers + shirts and how he's a bit gore obsessed. thanks my dude
Billy Loomis x Stu Macher x male reader
Headcanons
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I haven’t written for these two in a while, sorry it took a while for me to answer this request lmao.
-          Now in the beginning the three of you probably weren’t friends, maybe you were Stus friend since you have such similar personalities, and that you are kinda an outsider being a metalhead in a town like Woodsboro.
-          There is definingly a lot who looks down on you for how you dress, how long your hair is, or your interest in the darker things like horror movies, dark cd covers, etc.
-          But as you get closet to Stu by extension you get closer to Billy, and in the beginning, Billy would just put up with being around you, since he and Stu are most likely already dating, and Stu seems to really like you.
-          Then they visit your place and see just how cool your room is, with your huge collection of CDs, band t-shirts, posters and alike. Billy would immediately be interested in your CDs with darker covers, if I remember correctly there’s even covers out there with real bodies on them, so if you had those Billy would find them very cool.
 -          So, you end up close to both of them, and as time passes it develops into more. It would probably be Stu who fell for you first, and at some point, Billy reluctantly admits he’s fallen for you too.
-          You would not pick up on any of their attempts at flirting since your kinda daft at times, but that’s okay, they like that about you. They would start out more subtle with their flirting, at least Billy would, I don’t think Stu has a subtle bone in his body when it comes to people he likes.
-          When you just think they’re extra friendly no matter how much they try to give you hints, cuz it’s the 90s so just telling a guy you like em probably isn’t that easy, even though Billy and Stu are already together, they both wanna bang their heads against the wall.
-          I could imagine it finally clicking one night when the three of you are smoking together, using the stuff you have, so your all kinda high, and I get the feeling Stu is the giddy giggly kind, whilst Billy is more the calm and thinking kinda high.
-          You would be laying with your lap in Stu’s lap as he plays with your hair, the guy talking about how pretty it is and asking what kinda soap you use to get it this soft.
-          Then at some point Stu would just look at you and state that he really wants to kiss you, and since you are also high and have had feelings for the two you jokingly tell him to go for it.
 -          Stu being well, Stu, leans down and kisses you. You kiss him back just as enthusiastically, arms thrown around his neck and pulling him down till Stu is also bent in half cuz your still in his lap.
-          Billy just sits and watches as you go from kissing to full on making out, and before the three of you know it, you’re sitting in Stu’s lap and his hands are up your shirt. At some point Billy scoots his way over, pushes your hair to the side and kisses your neck.
-          Pulling back from the kiss, Stu confesses in a very Stu kinda way, aka he just says, “I love you man, I wanna be your boyfriend” and you just say you love him too, and Billy. Billy just chuckles a little and says he loves you guys too, and the rest is history.
-          The three of you wouldn’t be out to the public about being together, seeing as Billy and Stu weren’t out before, but you get “friendlier” aka you start hanging out with them more between classes, you wrap an arm around each other or lean against one another, those kinda things,
 -          When the killings happen, you are one of the top suspects, because you are an outsider and weirdo to the townspeople. You end up having a good alibi though, having been at work in the record and CD shop in town.
-          It doesn’t stop the rumors though and people look down on you even more than usual, but Billy and Stu stay.
-          I have a feeling you would discover they were the killers, and right when they worry about having to kill you or you freaking out, you just give them a lazy grin and ask to join.
-          They fall in love with you even more and now there are three ghostfaces, I could see you listening to music when killing too, which Billy tells you not to do, but Stu will sit beside you and listen to it too between killings.
-          A night of massacres always ends up with the three back at one of your guys places, cuddling and maybe smoking and maybe more If you are all in the mood.
-          You end up converting them to like your kind of music, so Billy and Stu can regularly be caught borrowing CDs from your collection, or adding more of their own when they find some you don’t already have.
-          You’re a group of murder boyfriends who are all stupidly sweet on each other, and Billy has the braincell for the most part, but he loves you guys anyways.
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pinkroseblooms · 2 months
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i just started Bucchigiri and love your stuff!!! 😭 Can you do one for Matakara having a crush on a new transfer girl? She wears the boys uniform and a hoodie over her head so she doesn't get attention. He only finds out cuz she helped treat his wounds after a fight once and it's been their secret ever since
Thank you so much! Hope you like this!
Just Between Us
Matakara/afab!Reader
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Summary: Matakara takes it upon himself to befriend the new introverted transfer student and develops a crush, unaware they're both keeping secrets from the other. wc: 2.2k a/n: no warnings, mostly just fluff and a few swear words. reader is afab but I personally written them as being gender fluid. I also headcanon Matakara as bi disaster. Enjoy!
You yawn, barely paying attention as your teacher goes on about something to do with…history? English? Biology? At this point you don’t bother keeping track; no one else does. Usually everyone in your homeroom is openly hooting and hollering over the lecture; on good days, most of the other students are zoned out or passing notes, not even attempting to be sneaky about it.
Speaking of, a folded up card gets flicked on your desk; you look, puzzled at it, and back to your seatmate. On your right is Matakara Asamine, smiling patiently and pointing to the paper.
You roll your eyes but smile back; he has your number, the two of you could easily have a whole conversation over text if you wished to. Still, you open the little piece of paper and read what Matakara scribbled: he’s asking if you want to see a movie after school. You stifle a chuckle and write back an affirmative, deliberately sliding your hand over the surface of his desk; after he reads your answer, Matakara pumps his fist silently in a display of excitement. Your profile is obscured with your hood up and your head turned, so you hope he doesn’t see how wide you’re grinning. 
It’s only been a few months since you transferred to Ichizu and you’re grateful to have made a few decent friends; with the district's reputation, you hadn’t expected to do much in the way of socializing. You weren't particularly street smart or experienced in self defense even: you were one of the few students who fell into the “harmless wallflower” category. There were a handful of kids at school who were like you; they just sort of walked around, didn’t speak much, and were largely ignored by the majority of the school populace as too weak and plain to bother with. 
The Minato Kai and Siguma members mostly kept to themselves, interested in their own rivalry and their own personal circles of friends and acquaintances. Normies like you were mildly entertaining to mess with, and while you did get some teasing and the occasional shove in the hallway, you had sufficiently flown under the radar.
At least, until Matakara Asamine decided he wanted to make you his friend. From the beginning you were surprised, but not especially wary. The general opinion of Matakara was that he was strong and had integrity, two traits that Minato Kai prized; his revered older brother would surely be proud, who you had also heard good things about. With all that in mind, you didn’t hesitate too much when Matakara and his friends asked you to sit with them to eat or tag along to the batting cages. Frankly, you let everyone else do most of the talking; it was fun though. You genuinely enjoyed the company and Matakara shot down any attempts to get you to pledge with their gang. 
“What are we going to see later?” You ask as you take a seat next to Zabu, handing him the manga he had lent you a week prior. “Sorry it took so long, I lost it in the pile.”
“Eh, you can keep that if you want.” Zabu scrunches his nose at the volume, sliding it back towards you. “I’m not into that sappy shit.”
“Huh?” You raise an eyebrow. “Why’d ya buy it?”
“I heard it was supposed to be good, but it was cliche as hell.” Zabu shrugs, jabbing his elbow into Sakegaki’s side; said boy had been reaching his chopsticks into Zabu’s bento to nab a piece of grilled meat. “What movie? Are we going to see a movie?”
“Um-”
“Hey guys!” 
Matakara almost startles you with how loudly his voice booms; he plops down onto the bench next to you. “Sorry, the bread line was crazy today.”
“Figures, it’s half off day. What’d you get?” Zabu asks curiously.
“Yakisoba, here,” Matakara takes one of the sealed baggies of treats and puts one on top of your plate. “I owe you for last time, your favorite is the melon bread, right?”
“Yeah, but you didn’t have to.” You add. “Thanks though.”
“No problem.”
Lunch period comes and goes and you completely forget to ask what movie the four of you are going to see, but it doesn’t bug you much. You don’t really mind if it means you get to sit by Matakara again; the last time you went to the movies with him he had shared a bucket of popcorn with you, whispering into your ear every now and again to comment on something. You spend the rest of the day hoping you’ll be able to sit next to him again, maybe have one of those moments where your hands touch by accident. Zabu doesn’t know what he’s talking about in your humble opinion: if it was up to you, your school life would be one big, romantic comedy cliche, and Matakara would be the male lead.
Except, as things are now with you passing for a boy, you’re pretty sure your role as of now is the quiet friend, the awkward loner adopted by the popular kid. Not a bad deal all things considered, but it makes having a crush something of a pain in the ass. Still, you’ll take some yearning on your end if it means you can continue going through your school days mostly unnoticed and unbothered. The fact of the matter is presenting as a girl is a hassle; even the toughest girls in your class have to deal with being pursued and bugged by obnoxious wannabe casanovas who think they’re the earth’s gift to women. 
So far, you haven’t had any risky encounters: the gender neutral bathroom, dirty and falling apart like everything else in the school, helps avoid your secret getting out and you skip changing for gym because…well, pretty much everyone else does anyway and the teachers don’t care. You can’t see any reason why you shouldn’t keep passing as a boy until graduation; not to mention, the boy’s uniforms are comfier. 
“Where’s the guys?” 
It’s the late afternoon and you’re changed into baggy sweats and battered sneakers; inside your jacket are four packages of candy picked up from the convenience store you’re presently loitering outside of to sneak into the theater. Matakara is late; you’re about to text him when you hear his voice calling out to you. Down the sidewalk, Matakara is running your way, smiling wide and out of uniform; as he reaches you, your eyes widen.
“What the hell? You’re bleeding man.” You step up to him, craning your neck to get a good look at the cut over his eyebrow. “What the hell happened?”
“Ah, one of Siguma’s guys challenged me on my way here.” Matakara raises his fingers to the small gash. “Oh wow, I didn’t realize his kick landed that hard.”
“Matakara, hold on a second.”
“Where are you-?”
You rush into the store; in three minutes you’ve returned with a box of bandages, a small bag of cotton swabs, disinfecting ointment, hand sanitizer, and a bottle of water.
“What’s the water for?”
“Flush out the wound. Some of the blood’s drying.” 
You make Matakare sit down on the wooden bench on the side of the building and lay out the supplies. He watches you silently as you pour some of the clean water onto a swab and begin to carefully wipe off the dried blood, soaking up the bit that’s still oozing. Matakara is obediently still and doesn’t wince as you swipe a few dabs of ointment over the injury after sanitizing your hands properly. 
“You do this a lot?”
“Nope.” You confess, handing him the bottle of water. “Here, have some. It’s always a good idea to drink water. I’m gonna put the bandaid on; can’t believe you didn’t realize you got hit so hard.”
“I was kinda in a rush.” Matakara’s hand dwarfs the plastic bottle; he’s looking down a bit guiltily. “Sorry I was late. I thought it’d be over quicker.”
“Well, the guys are late anyway, so it works out.” You gently smooth the bandage across his eyebrow. “There, it should be fine. Are you sure you don’t feel dizzy or anything? Maybe we should skip the movie.”
“No!” Matakara says, sitting up straight. “I’m totally fine, seriously. Thanks for taking care of me.”
“I should be the one saying that.” You sit next to him with a sigh. “Don’t apologize; I’m lucky you want to hang out with me at all.”
“Of course I do! You’re fun to be around and you’re a good listener and you’re really-” 
Matakara stops talking; he suddenly looks away and takes a sip of water. You stare at him, a bit flattered and a lot confused. Matakara's been acting a little off all day come to think of it.
“Should I text the guys? You told them where we were gonna meet, right?” You check your phone while Matakara finishes the water. “Think they went straight to the theater?”
“Um, actually, Sakegaki and Zabu aren’t coming.” Matakara tells you; he scrunches up the bottle and tosses it cleanly into the recycling bin next to him. “You don’t mind, right?”
“Oh. No, it’s cool.” You’re not lying but now your curiosity has peaked. “Is everything okay with you guys?”
“Yeah, nothing wrong.” Matakara says quickly. “If you want I can call them, if you’re not comfortable with it being just us.”
“Why wouldn't I be?”
“Because…” 
Matakara’s hands are clasped and he’s still looking at the ground; he looks troubled and you feel bad for pushing the issue, whatever it is, but something is definitely wrong. 
“I don’t mean to presume.” Matakara begins slowly, measuring his tone. “It’s none of my business, but I, um, when you got close to me, I kinda felt…your chest.”
You stare at him blankly; Matakara’s cheeks flush and he finally gives you a ‘look’. 
“Oh.” You blink. “Shit. I guess you found me out.”
“So, you were born a girl?”
“Yeah.”
“Why are you…?” Matakara averts his stare. “Wait, sorry, it’s none of my business.”
“No, you’re fine. The thing is, it’s just kind of easier to pass myself off as a guy, ya know?” You pat his shoulder. “So, would you mind keeping it between us? Honestly, I don’t really care if people see me as a guy, girl, whatever, but it would make my life easier if you didn't go telling anyone else.”
“A secret?” Matakara perks up. “Between us?”
“I’d appreciate it.”
“Sure!”
You’re a bit taken aback; you know Matakara’s a nice guy and all, but you didn’t expect him to be this easy going about your charade.
“You can trust me.” Matakara puts a hand over his heart. “I can swear it in blood.”
“No, no more bleeding!” You blanch at the thought. “Dude, it’s not that deep.”
“I know, but it’s just nice.” Matakara rubs the back of his neck; he’s beaming at you, eyes crinkling in the corners, cheeks flushed. “You know, we’re always around other people or you go off on your own; when we are together, you don’t say much…I feel like we haven’t actually gotten a chance to really know each other, so I like we have this thing that’s only for us. Does that sound weird?”
“A little, but I see what you mean.” You tug the strings of your hoodie so it closes more around your face. “If you want, we could do this more.”
“This?”
“Hanging out,” You clarify, voice softer than you mean for it to be. “Just the two of us. If you want.”
“Then, it’s okay I didn’t invite the others? You’re not uncomfortable with it?”
“I probably feel the most comfortable around you, Matakara.”
You chance peeking out and realize you’re screwed: Matakara is leaning over, right in your face, eyes glued to your face and almost shining. He radiates warmth, like he’s trying to make you gravitate closer to his side, unknowingly pulling you toward him.
"Really?"
Actually, it’s more like his hand is placed over yours and he’s moving his face close to yours; for a moment you and Matakara stare at each other mutely. His hand covers yours and you don’t feel uncomfortable but your heart might actually combust inside your ribcage from how tenderly Matakara is gazing at you. 
“Do you really mean it?” Matakara breathes, voice almost like a sigh. “Can we go to the movies now? Just you and me?”
“Uh huh.” You nod dumbly, swallowing the spit you didn’t realize was pooling from glancing at his lips. “I, um, bought candy for everyone, four of them.”
“More for us.” Matakara smiles brightly, standing up; he’s yet to let go of your hand. 
“Works for me.” You don’t try to pull your hand away, allowing Matakara to pretty much lead you down the sidewalk in the direction of the theater. You’ve never seen him act almost childishly eager and his attitude is admittedly infectious. “Let’s share a popcorn bucket, it'll be less expensive.”
“Yeah, we should split a drink too.”
Matakara looks back, and you can’t miss the mischievous glint in his eyes as your cheeks grow hot.
“…I’m gonna have to watch out for you.”
“I don’t mind. In fact,” Matakara is grinning a little too innocently for the look he’s giving you over his shoulder. “You can look at me all you want.”
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