#I was about to make a sarcastic post about how there doesn’t seem to be a reason for Nudge-Sparrow to be in the show

[cry-stars]

Komaeda and Dementia: Part 1 of 5: Introduction and Overview of FTD

Hi everyone!

I’m an aspiring Komaedologist with an interest in dementia. I often see people doubting Komaeda’s stated diagnosis of frontotemporal dementia, since it presents differently in him than in the common portrayal of dementia in the media. While his portrayal may not be completely accurate, there is a lot of truth to it, and there are many symptoms visible in-game. I wanted to share a few posts about dementia symptoms that we do see canonically in Komaeda’s portrayals in SDR2 and DR:AE, and share some information regarding his specific diagnosis as opposed to Alzheimers, for example.

I work with people living with dementia as a recreation worker. This means that I see them living their daily lives, and know about difficulties they might have with recreational or day to day activities. There are a lot of observations that I might make that can’t be backed up scientifically yet, but do make sense in a practical way. Everyone with dementia is different, and since I work with seniors for the most part, some observations won’t transfer onto Komaeda. However, I’ll do my best to back up whatever I can with sources.

This post is just for fun and to give people ideas. It means a lot to me to see a fascinating and endearing character like Komaeda portrayed with dementia, since it is a sad and terminal disease, and I usually see it end badly in my job, so I hope to give people ideas on how to portray it, or just to notice things in a different way they might not have before!

My main sources for this post and the following ones include “Dementia Diaries,” which is a really cool project where people with dementia talk about their experiences, National Institute on Aging, Alzheimer’s Association, Alzheimer’s Society, and my own work experience. I plan on doing more posts about specific symptoms that we see in Komaeda later, but I would be happy to hear from other people who have dementia knowledge, or to answer any questions that I can.

For the most part, I'm only going to be talking about SDR2 and a little bit of DR:AE. I haven't finished watching the anime yet and have not read any of the manga. If anyone has ideas from any of those sources, I would love to hear about them!

Overview of FTD: Which Variant does Komaeda Have?

There are two major forms of frontotemporal dementia. The first, which Komaeda likely has, is the behavioural variant (BvFTD), which is also the most likely for young people to develop. This variant of FTD mainly affects behaviour, empathy, judgement, and planning.

Komaeda is less likely to have the other variant of FTD, primary progressive aphasia. This form of FTD mainly affects language skills, including speech and comprehension.

Komaeda doesn’t seem to have very much trouble with understanding the concrete content of what people say to him, but he does occasionally seem to have trouble fully comprehending hidden meanings behind statements (for example, taking statements literally rather than as sarcastic). To me though, this is less connected to him not being able to understand the words or content of statements, and more not picking up on the emotions hidden in the statements (which I’ll address more in the behavior post). He does seem to have some trouble with word-finding in the Japanese version of the game, but again, it doesn't inhibit his ability to express himself given enough time to speak.

Another thing to note about FTD is that, in its early stages, it mainly affects behaviour and language processing, as stated above, rather than memory. In later stages, memory does start to be affected as well, but it’s different from Alzheimers (probably the most well-known form of dementia) in that memory loss isn’t the main symptom.

FTD’s prognosis is about 6-8 years. Komaeda states in his fifth free time event that his life expectancy is between half a year and one year. However, he is also referring to his lymphoma diagnosis, meaning he expected to die from a combination of both illnesses within that time frame. In SDR2, Komaeda is probably in the early to middle stages of FTD, since he was diagnosed right before entering Hope’s Peak, and was a Remnant of Despair for some time without treatment, so while we can see evidence of memory issues (which I will address in another post), it’s something he’s able to cope with and isn’t a debilitating symptom yet.

One more observation: while dementia as a whole is usually seen in elderly people, Komaeda’s specific frontotemporal dementia diagnosis has an earlier age of onset, usually between ages 40-65, and is rarely seen in elderly people. Even though being diagnosed in high school seems unlikely, it is not impossible. According to Alzheimer Society Canada, early-onset or young-onset dementia (between ages 18 and 65) accounts for 2-8% of all dementia cases.

Thank you for reading! I plan on making five posts total. The other post topics will be Outward Behaviour, Judgement/Thought Processes, Other Symptoms, and Writing Ideas.

[carmypen]

I was going to make a post about the poor Jymato gardener and how he just wants his plants to be happy.

Uh….I guess he finally got what he wanted.

[imaginaryf1shots]

Hidden | Max Verstappen

WC: 1.5K

Max x wife!reader

Summery: May has always a private person, but is he that private that he could hide his wife of 8 years and 2 year-old son.

Warnings: none

AN: This is a little something, while I’m working on two big fics

Masterlist

Max Masterlist

Max Verstappen is many things, and when people ask you to describe him they always have a lot to say. He’s a great driver, at the top of his career, he’s aggressive, he’s sarcastic, definitely has an unhealthy relationship with his skinny jeans. He’s also incredibly private, not much is known about him that he doesn’t want to be known, how he does it is a mystery.

You both value your privacy, and any post made of you before he made it to F1 was deleted the second there was a possibility he would join. You were both young, and you knew how much hate some wags get and you didn’t want that. While Max was off racing, you were back home finishing your studies, the moment you finished high school and you were both 18 you got married. A small wedding with only family and very close friends in attendance. Some of your families were against it at first, saying you’re too young, too naive but you never listened to them. Both you and Max knew what you wanted, and there was not stopping you from getting what you wanted.

You finished Uni and when Max moved to Monaco you did too, you met some of the drivers, the ones close to Max, you met some of the team that were also close to him. And you even attended a few races, but no one paid you any attention, thinking you’re just a fan.

However the last time you made it to a race was well over a year and a half ago, you gave birth to your baby boy last winter, and after a hard delivery and a long recovery, where Max stuck by your side through it all. Your boy is almost 2 and he misses Max every time he’s away from home.

”Are you sure this is the right time?” Max asked you as you got yourself ready, Karel happily playing with his toys next to Max on the bed.

“I mean we’ve been married for 8 years now, and dating for three before that.” You point out and finish the last touches to your make-up. “We have a son and I want him to grow up seeing you do what you love to do, I don’t know when you actually want to retire, so let him see you do it before it’s too late.”

You walk over to your husband and sit in front of him with a smile.

”You’re right.” Max leans over and presses a kiss to your lips, that leaves you craving for more, Max pulls back leaving you chasing after his lips. The dutch driver laughs and lets you close the gap, your lips meeting for a bit longer, before you have to pull back or things would escalate.

“Don't forget your ring.”

“Already wearing it.”

Walking in the paddock with your son on your hip and your hand in Max’s turned a few heads for sure. It was the tack of the paddock, Max has a girlfriend and a son? There’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that the boy you’re holding is anyones’s but Max, he’s a literal mini Max, with the small red bull merch and everything.

”Oh my god! Loca.” Lando said seeing you both, your son wiggles in your arms. He loves Lando who he sees a lot when you’re all in Monaco. Lando is one of the few people who knew about you for so long and he’s seen Karel mere days after he was born. “Come to uncle, Lala.” Karel leans out of your arms and easily goes to Lando’s. “I didn’t know you guys were bringing him today.”

“We weren’t 100% sure.” Max explains and you give him a look. “Okay, I wasn't 100% sure I’d want to bring him.”

”Well, I’m for one glad that you did.” Lando said entertaining your son.

”That makes the two of us.” You say smiling, as Max pulls you closer to his side.

After Max is sure you and Karel are comfortable at RedBull, he goes off to do his round of interviews and media duties. And it's just his luck that, he's on the panel today.

And it didn't take long before he was being questioned about his family.

“Question to Max, you seem happier today, does that possibly have something to do with your ring and those that came with you today?” Max chuckles, he looks at his wedding ring. On the panel today with him, Charles who knows about his family, Lewis who has no idea, Oscar who has no idea and Pierre who has a suspicion but hasn't been confirmed by Charles.

“Eh, if you're talking about this ring, yes. My son is here for the first time, he's finally old enough to come.” Max is smiling but just because his family came means he's suddenly open with the press and will spill everything.

“You have a son?” Lewis asked confused the gossip hadn't reached Mercedes yet.

“I'm not over the ring, you're married?” Pierre asked, Oscar was looking super confused at the RedBull driver, he heard Lando talking about Max and a child and wife but he thought it was the other Max not this Max.

“Karel's here?” Charles asked, smiling.

“Yeah, I have a son, he's almost 2 and I'm married.” Max said as if he didn't Just drop the biggest news in F1 at the moment.

“You knew about it?” Pierre asked his friend feeling left out, Charles looked cheapish and shrugged.

“It was a secret mate.”

After the panel the drivers waited for Max to ask him some more questions.

“When were you married?”

“Did you get married because of the kid?”

“What's his name?”

“Why did you hide them?”

”When can we see him?”

and so on and so forth, Max knew that this would cause quite a stir in the media but he had no idea the other drivers would be interested.

”Okay calm down everyone, let the man speak.” Lando, the latest person to join the circle said. He wrapped his arm around Max’s shoulder. ”Let me answer the oblivious stuff. His name’s Karel, he was born during the winter break of last year, he’s a carbon copy of Max, and yeah, I knew about everything for a few years.”

Lando looked so smug with himself for being in the know.

”And you’re married? Never saw you wearing a ring before.”

“Yeah, got married when we were 18-“

”EIGHTEEN!!” There was a gasps and repetition to the number 18.

”Mate, that’s over 8 years ago.” Pierre said with wide eyes, he’s been Max’s teammate and he was married and he had no idea.

”Yeah, we were dating for 3 years before that, and decided to just do it.” Max explains, he was itching to get back to the garage and see his family. But he had to stand there for a few more minutes to answer all their questions, which he was comfortable with anyways.

You could see a few of the drivers shaking their heads as they dispersed from the circle in disbelief. The gossip and new information was hot, it will be all they can talk about this weekend.

You were out of his driver’s room, and standing beside Max’s car talking with a mechanic as Karel was looking at his dad’s car in fascination. It’s the car he saw every week on the TV.

“Hey.” Max greeted coming in and giving you a quick kiss, he took Karel from your arms and kisses his cheek. “How’s everything?”

”Good, Karel wants to get in the car.” You inform your husband, smiling as your son nodded his head furiously.

”Dada, car.” Karel says cutely and points at his father’s car.

”You can sit baby, don’t think you’ll see anything but you can sit.” Max says and places his child into the cockpit, RedBull cameras snap pictures and take videos.

”Future RedBull champion in the making.” You tease Max and grin, Max had this adoration look on his face. “You should get in and put him on your legs so he can see.”

Max does as you say, he hands you Karel, who you shower with kisses making him giggle and push your face away. Max gets in and you hand him Karel who he places on his lap, the child now able to see out of the car.

”Here Max.” One of the mechanics hand him the steering wheel, and Max puts it in.

”Dada, drive.” Karel says and takes a hold of the steering wheel, Max helps him turn it right and left, it’s. too heavy for him to do it alone. You take out your phone and also film this moment.

If there was ever doubt about bringing Karel, just seeing them making memories and enjoying themselves proves that it’s the right thing to do. There’s no guarantee for how long Max will stay in F1, the motorsport is forever changing and you’ve always wanted Max to make these memories with your son. And if Karel continued showing interest in cars as he does now, there’s no doubt in your mind that you’ll be back at karting tracks soon enough, and replete the cycle that you went through with Max with your son.

Max looks at you and smiles, you couldn’t help but lean over and press your lips to his, in a sweet and short kiss.

”It’s good that I can kiss you whenever now.” You comment and wink at Max before you pull back.

“Lucky me.”

Maintaglist

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life

[steddielations]

Steve acts on instinct.

There’s this guy in all black walking in front of him, he’s too busy looking down at his phone to notice, but Steve doesn’t trust that lamppost. He’s been going for daily runs, he likes to keep it simple during the off-season, and that post has been getting more rickety every day. Now it’s swaying dangerously in the wind and he knows it’s about to tumble.

There’s no time to call out to the guy, so Steve just plows forward and tackles him out of the way.

They fall in a messy heap and Steve unfortunately lands heavily on top.

“Holy shit! What the— ugh!” The guy heaves in pain and Steve hurries to scramble off of him.

“Sorry, that post was about to fall on you, man. You alright?”

Pieces of grass stick to the guy’s long hair as he takes stock of Steve and what happened. With a labored breath, he surprisingly jokes, “Guess I’m lucky the best football tackler alive happened to be right behind me.”

It’s sarcastic as shit but Steve smiles with a tug of amusement as he offers his hand. “Baseball, actually.”

“You’re in the wrong league, man,” he lets Steve pull him to his feet and groans on the way up. “Well, nice to meet you, Baseball, you pack a hell of a first impression. I’m Eddie.”

Steve would appreciate his ability to joke so soon after taking a hit, but people are starting to gather around. There’s already phones pointed at them that probably caught the whole thing on camera. Steve’s used to public attention by now, knows the press is going to have a field day with this and he hates causing a scene, but he wants to make sure Eddie is okay.

“Just Steve is good. You wanna…? This way,” he gestures toward the sidewalk and thankfully, Eddie seems just as eager to get out of there too, shuffling next to Steve as they round the corner.

He’s wearing so much metal jewelry, it’s like a costume, the jingle jangle of his every step accentuating how shaken up he seems. They get far enough behind a building and Steve stops to have a real look at him and… well he’s interesting to look at.

It’s like he hopped off the album cover of an 80s rock band, or one of Steve’s Bon Jovi posters that he hid under his bed in high school. Way too much leather and way too much hair for the California sun, all disheveled with grass and dirt.

“You sure you’re okay? Here, you got a little…” Steve’s hand hovers until Eddie nods that it’s okay from him to pluck the grass from his hair and lightly brush the dust from his shoulders. Eddie watches him the whole time, his eyes big and dark, an intensity in them that Steve can’t quite read but he can feel. “Didn’t hit your head or anything, did you?”

Steve lowers his hands, stepping back a little when he realizes how close they are. Eddie’s eyes follow him, a slight quirk to his lips that makes Steve feel the heat of the sun a little warmer on his face.

“I’m touched by your concern, sweetheart, but my brain has been through worse damage than a little bump.”

Steve frowns at the ladder, but the first bit definitely makes him feel the heat. He’s admittedly a bit out of practice but he can still recognize a come on. One that he definitely invited with all the touching and indulgent looks.

Then Eddie starts profusely thanking him for the whole ordeal, asking to treat him somewhere nearby for lunch. It’s not that Steve doesn’t want to, he’s very interested actually, and thankful that out of all the jewelry Eddie’s sporting, there’s no wedding ring. That’s why he’s reluctant because he’s all sweaty at the moment. Not to mention, he didn’t finish his run yet.

“Surely saving my life was enough cardio,” Eddie jokes lightly and Steve snorts.

“I saved you from a minor concussion, maybe,” and okay he’s gotta accept now.

The place is small and unassuming, burgers and sodas type joint. Steve’s likely to be recognized there, which he doesn’t mind meeting fans in public just preferably not now, it might be jarring for Eddie.

He heads for the booth tucked in the back corner, the most private looking spot that Steve had his eyes on too. They get a round of sodas from the waitress and right away, Eddie starts thanking him again.

“I noticed that lamppost wobbling days ago,” Steve sparks a conversation instead of accepting any more thanks, “I was planning to let it fall on me so I could sue the shit out of the city.”

He’s pleasantly startled by the big cackle that gets out of Eddie, “Any chance to stick it to the man. I admire that.”

“‘Course I would’ve really stuck it to ‘em and donated it back to the community,” Steve adds.

“Giving the people’s money back to the people, imagine Big Brother’s horror. Noble guy.”

Eddie seems to bubble with contagious delight that doesn’t match his whole leather and chains thing at all, but it fits into the somewhat magic of him. It's a wonder to Steve.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” Eddie ventures, a glint of recognition in his eyes that Steve’s seen a thousand times. He doesn’t ping Eddie as much of a sports guy and he’s not vain enough to assume everyone knows who he is. Eddie’s probably seen him while flipping the channel past ESPN or something. Or maybe an ad for that Netflix thing he did documenting last year’s season.

“I think I’d definitely remember you.”

Steve didn’t mean it as a come-on, just that Eddie’s appearance really isn’t forgettable, but he can tell by the wicked little grin Eddie sports that it was taken as one. Steve likes that even better.

“Have you ever modeled, or anything? You’ve got the looks for it.”

Biting back a smile of his own, Steve shakes his head. “I bet you say that to everyone who saves your life.”

“None of them were half as good looking." That sounds concerning but Steve’s distracted by Eddie swirling his straw in his drink, regarding him with a long look. “Really though, I just feel like I’ve seen you before.”

Steve’s done a few covers of Sports Illustrated, but he doubts Eddie has ever picked up a copy of that, so he shrugs. “Must’ve been in your dreams.”

Eddie laughs softer this time. “You trying to sweep me off my feet or something?”

“Already did.” Steve leans back, enjoying the way Eddie’s eyes follow him.

Conversation sparks and it never really dies out. Eddie just grabs topics out of thin air, talking about the city and what they like to do and movies and his amazement that Steve knows all about D&D because he’s a nerd magnet. Eddie’s personality spills through everything he says like it can’t be contained. He’s talkative in a good way, not to a point where Steve can’t get a word in. He listens intently, has a way of putting all his attention onto Steve like he’s the most interesting person he’s ever spoken to.

It’s surprisingly easy to relax. Not because Eddie has a super calming presence or anything, his energy is just all-encompassing, it’s hard for Steve not to get sucked in and hang on to every word he says. It’s one of the rare times in public that he’s not hyper-aware of everyone around him and too paranoid of having a photo snapped and taken out of context to even enjoy himself.

That happens a lot, being one of the only professional athletes who’s open about his sexuality. The media is extremely invasive with his private life. If he’s seen with any guy friend, there’s a whole press storm about Steve Harrington’s “secret beau” within the hour. It’s ridiculous and he tries so hard to keep his lovelife under wraps that maybe he’s been neglecting it entirely, at least that’s what Robin says.

Of course, that’s when his phone lights up with a message from her. His heart sinks a little when he sees the title of the article she sent to him. He quickly shoots her a text and locks his phone without reading it.

“Everything alright?” Eddie notices the shift in Steve’s mood right away.

“Yeah just,” he sighs, bracing for the inevitable part when Eddie realizes Steve isn’t worth the hassle of all this, “Someone filmed us earlier and now it’s all over the press. I’m really sorry, I totally get it if—”

“Nah, don’t worry about it, it’s fine. I figured that would happen,” Eddie brushes it off, but Steve shakes his head.

“I don’t think you understand, it’s—”

“Wanna bet?” Eddie smirks for some reason, “I’m fine with it, I promise.”

He tosses a chip into his mouth and picks right back up with the story he was telling.

Steve is stunned for a moment, wary that maybe Eddie doesn’t fully grasp how deep this goes. But he stays there with Steve, seemingly thrilled to keep talking with him even when a family comes in and keeps staring their way, obviously building up the courage to come over and ask for a picture. Eddie’s acting like Steve’s the only person in the room and that’s enough to assure Steve that he’s really fine with it.

He’s so locked into Eddie, he barely registers when the older son from the family’s table finally wanders over and asks for a picture.

Steve is in the middle of wiping his face with a napkin, about to greet him when suddenly, Eddie pops up and asks Steve to excuse him for a minute.

“C’mon little man, let’s do it,” he says and much to Steve’s confusion, the teen excitedly goes with Eddie to his family’s table.

Steve watches, utterly baffled, as they start snapping photos and expressing what big fans they are and Eddie takes it with such bravado, laughing and chatting like he’s with a group of friends.

What the— Steve grabs his phone, opening the article Robin sent him at lightning speed.

At first, he wonders how the press was able to find out Eddie’s full name so quickly, then he sees the words "troubled rockstar" and "recovering star" so many times, it becomes abundantly clear.

Oh.

He’s not so worried about the troubled part, everyone has their shit and he doesn’t read into any of it. Those are Eddie’s stories to tell Steve if he chooses, not some tabloid. But the rockstar part connects a lot of dots that have come up in the last couple of hours since meeting Eddie and—

Yeah, just. Oh.

Part 2

[jyoongim]

I literally kick my feet anytime I see you post your writing is so good. Fuckin biting my nails and screaming !!!!

Mayhaps something with alastor and like stoic reader. Like she’s badass, nothing gets to her and tries so hard to seem dominant (cause she knows compared to alastor she really isn’t). Has never fucked annoyed cause it’s the “I only need myself, I can get myself off” mindset

At one point she ends up getting snippy with alastor and he like grabs her by the throat or something to stop her and she immediately just looses all resolve. It’s viable in her eyes as she quickly goes from defiant and brash to meek and submissive just by something so simple because she’s so unused to the feeling.

Thank you for enjoying my writing🥹🥹🥹 I hope I can continue to give you everything you desire🩷

You took a seat beside Velvette as the Overlord meeting started. She was practically fangirling next to you, sneaking a few pics of you for her socials.

The meeting went as smooth as one could go with a bunch of powerful Overlords. 

You were chatting with Carmilla about business, catching sight of a familiar red demon leaving when Velvette quite literally stole you away, she sported a big grin on her face “Ooh babes, Voxxy wants to know if you’re accepting his dinner invite?”

You wanted to groan. Vox had been quite persistent in trying to gain your ‘affections’. 

You were a relatively powerful overlord. As one of the few female sovereigns, you always made sure to carry yourself with poise and elegance. You got your power on your own, never having to sleep your way to get what you want. And you kept it that way. Your dominant cold personality made sinners shake in fear.  You possessed a great mind for business, able to build or break someone’s business. 

Many sinners would be lucky to have you oversee their management.

And Vox could see you bringing him more money then he could count.

With you under him, he would dominate in sales.

You shook Velvette off, smoothing out your suit. “For the nth time Velvette…no. I am not some power clutch for Vox to try and woo” you growled at her, eyes flashing.  She rolled her eyes “babes you dont know what you’re missing” You rubbed your head as you made your way out the building, trying to ease a migraine coming through.

Your sneer must have still been on your face because you heard a voice teased you

”Frowning doesn’t suit you my dear”

Alastor.

The tall red demon was leaning against a wall, smile ever present.

You felt your eye twitch before quickly regaining your composure, spine straightening and lips pulling into a straight line.

You and Alastor were something like friends. You liked to keep your distance from the Radio Demon, but somehow he always found a way to bother you and keep you close enough for ‘entertainment’. He made you uneasy with how intimidating he was. His ever present smile could make people shit bricks alone and you knew what happened to those who crossed him…

But he didn’t scare you…much.

You growled slightly at his comment, your irritation was blinding the fact that you just barred your teeth at THE Radio Demon.

He tilted his head “trouble in paradise?” he asked sarcastically. If anyone didn’t know, Alastor knew how much you despised Vox.  

”Oh piss off Alastor” you said walking pass him.

You didn’t get far before you found yourself pressed into the building wall.

You blinked, brain catching up to the fact that Alastor had a claw around your throat holding you up against the wall.

You growled out of instinct, eyes glowing and squeezed his wrist “Are You fucking crazy!? Unhan-!” 

 The tightening of Alastor’s hand had your eyes widening.

“Watch your tone darlin’ ”

 your body went slack as a purr escaped your throat.

Alastor chuckled darkly “hahaha oh what’s this? So you aren’t so scary after all”

You blushed immediately.

You weren’t used to being manhandled by anyone. 

You didn’t take orders from anyone.

You were always a force to be reckoned with…

But the way Alastor towered over you, pressing into you, you melted as he established his dominance over you.

A pout formed on your lip as you looked away shyly, feeling small “s-sorry”

Alastor hummed, loosening his grip, favoring to catch your chin with his claw for you to meet his gaze

”that’s a good girl”

@absurd-ash @simphornies @altruisticalastor @markster666 @crazyforbarnes @catherine69420 @yourdoorisunlocked @strawberrypimp666 @sssandychemd @dasimp777 @dennsfz @alastorsaries @confessioncassette @horrorartsworld @alstorloml @scaramoochiie @alishii (I can’t tag you) @gojosaturos-wife @prosciuttosblog @wedream-wecreate @coleisyn @alastorsfawn @eviebuggg @spalimly @senseichaos @thewinchestah @queenariesofnarnia @polytheatrix @zombiesnips-blog @lunaramune @freekyfangirl @kassa-stardust

If I’m missing anyone just comment hehe

[unknownmads]

i’m so obsessed with the idea of Frat guy/popular Gojo and Weird girl Y/n.

Y/n who’s a little rough around the edges but actually really kind.

Y/n who has dyed hair and eccentric style,

Y/n who doesn’t take bullshit

Y/n whose music is a bit out there or odd.

And Frat Boy gojo who is absolutely Smitten by her. falling in love with her style and attitude alike.

Frat Boy gojo who saw her getting harassed at one of his Fraternity’s parties and was about to step in when she was already was a step ahead of him. The guy bothering her having tried to grab her ass under her skirt y/n quickly turning around slapping him so hard it Gojo winced at the sight. Then she cussed the man out about manners before storming off. He never got her name but he knew how badly he wanted her since that night.

Frat Boy Gojo who spent the rest of the night trying to find Y/n only to find out she left not long after the incident. Sighing as he spends the rest of the night trying to find out her name.

Frat Boy Gojo who now sees her everywhere, always managing to spot her around campus on her way to class she’s all he can see. Who spends half his time stalking her socials shamelessly following her impatiently waiting for her follow back.

Frat Boy Gojo who asks everyone he can about Y/n needing to know all he can about her.

Frat Boy Gojo whose heart starts to race when he gets the notification that she followed him back. Liking a few of his posts along the way.

Frat Boy Gojo who feels as if the universe is on his side when he spots Y/n in the campus cafe on her computer mindlessly sipping her drink. The big Window she’s seated in giving him a full view of her outfit that day. Quickly making his way to the Cafe and ordering a drink of his and walking to your table and speaking sweetly with his signature charming smile.

“Hey is this seat taken?”

Frat Boy Gojo who swears he’s going to faint when you finally look up at him a sweet smile on your face as you speak to him in a quiet voice. Who almost bursts out laughing as he remembers the night he first saw you mentally laughing at the switch.

“oh no it’s not. go ahead”

Frat Boy Gojo who spends the rest of his time in the cafe chatting with you trying to make you smile and laugh.

Frat Boy Gojo who mentally signs away his old life as he hears you laugh at his cheesy flirting and puns. His heart racing out of his chest the entire time he speaks to you. You’re sarcastic come backs matching his puns. He’s already married and has two kids with you in his mind at this point.

Weird Girl Y/n who is a little shocked when Satoru gojo follows her but deciding to just brush it off and follow him back. Looking through his posts mindlessly liking a few.

Weird Girl Y/n who’s even more shocked to see that same man at the cafe she was studying in now asking for a seat at her table.

Weird Girl Y/n who can’t help but laugh at his silly attempts of flirting and cheesy puns. She know his reputation but it’s not as if she’s doesn’t also have one of her own.

✮❀✮

this was just racking in my brain i love when those popular guys date weird emo chicks and i just feel gojo would be absolutely SMITTEN by a Y/n who dressed very eccentric and stood out by her style. After like so many sorority girls i think y/n would seem like a breath of fresh air to him.

i also fully believe this same situation would happen with Atsumu Miya, or Yuji.

[cesilly]

- you owe me

hamzah x reader

18+ MINORS DNI

contains: arguing, swearing, oral (fem receiving)

my first actual post don’t come for me ok idk how this works and idk if it’s too long cause idk when to stop ok thx

————————————————————————

“god, fuck!”

you’re rudely startled awake in the middle of the night by a string of loud cusses and grumbles. you quickly sit up straight, stiffening as you glance around the dark bedroom belonging to mandy and martin, in their apartment where you were currently sleeping for the night while the two of them were on vacation.

a little frightened, you hear the cats begin meowing loudly as heavy footsteps can be heard throughout the living room.

“shh, shh!” you can make out the sound of frantic pleads for the animals to stay quiet when you get out of bed and press your ear up against the door.

“where is it? martin, fucking call me back right now. jesus!”

you continue to listen, and now you recognize the voice.

hamzah.

you and hamzah have somewhat of a complicated relationship, due to both of you always being around this apartment, especially when you’re trying to hang out with mandy and he’s trying to hang out with martin. the couple has tried easing you and hamzah into being friends, yet you both have no interest in being around each other because of this annoyance that has only grown between you two over time.

you gently push the door open, being met with the humid summer air that resides outside of the bedroom, where you have a fan plugged in to help you sleep. you catch sight of him, pacing around the kitchen and living room, searching with his phone’s flashlight.

he doesn’t notice you.

you think about the easiest way to make your presence known without scaring the shit out of him, so you decide to just flip the switch to turn the hallway light on.

“huh?” he exclaims anxiously, his eyes quickly darting over and landing on you. “what the hell are you doing here?”

his voice is harsh and unforgiving as he shines the flash into your eyes, not even giving you time to adjust to the overhead light.

you shield your vision from the brightness, letting out a groan. “i could ask you the same thing. i just needed a place to sleep. which you’re interrupting right now, by the way.” you clear your throat.

“and shine that thing somewhere else, please.”

he grumbles and tosses his phone down onto the kitchen counter with a loud clatter. “i don’t have time for you right now. this is great, this is great!” he rambles. you watch him with furrowed brows as he tangles his own fingers in his hair and tugs on it, his back to you, seeming as if he’s struggling to keep his composure.

“what is your problem?” you ask, already not appreciating the way he’s speaking to you.

“no, no, you don’t get it.” he mutters. “if martin took the fucking key, if he took the fucking key with him, he’s dead. i can’t find it. i have so much work in there, and i can’t find the goddamn key.” his frustration increases with every word, as he stalks over to the couch and throws the pillows to the floor, feeling a for this key.

you assume he’s talking about the key to the studio that him and martin share for projects and whatnot, but you couldn’t care less about that. him being here has already aggravated you enough, you don’t want to help him at all.

“this is not my problem. i’m going back to sleep so, keep it down, okay?” you say with an small, sarcastic smile.

“no, no. you’re here, you’re going to help me.” he replies, his back still turned towards you.

this makes you laugh. “um, no? i’m not going to do anything for you.”

in less than a second, he turns and around and he’s suddenly an inch away from you. the room is almost unbearingly hot, the humidity making your skin sticky. you can feel the warmth radiating from his body.

his voice sounds like a warning when he speaks again. “whether you help me or not, i’m not leaving until i find this thing, so you’re most likely not sleeping any more tonight unless i do. if you’d just fucking look, maybe we’d get done faster and i won’t have to be around you any fucking longer than i’ve already had to.”

you stare up at him for a few moments, realizing that it technically would be better for you if you at least looked around a little bit.

“you’re sure that it’s here?”

“yes.” he says, with his jaw clenched. “fucking obviously.”

“fine.” you say affirmatively. “you’ll fucking owe me if i find it for you.”

“fine.” he replicates your tone, heading towards the bedroom without another word.

•••

it takes you over an hour, but you find it.

the key was shoved under a notebook in the drawer of martin’s desk. stupid fucking spot.

you clutch the small key attatched to a little chain in your hand, walking into the bedroom where this man is currently looking underneath the bedside table. you stand and watch his frantic demeanor, fighting back a laugh before somehow he senses your presence and turns to look at you.

“what?” he says impatiently, his knuckles going white as he grips the edge of the small nightstand.

you smile and let the key drop from your palm, holding onto the little chain and dangling it around like it’s a prize you’re showing off.

he immediately stands and steps toward you, his face lighting up as he snatches the key from you and simultaneously grips your waist with his other hand. he doesn’t even realize where his hand automatically flew, he’s just staring at the key, looking puzzled.

“where? what?” he mumbles.

you stay silent, frozen in place. you’ve never come close enough to this man to let him touch you, and you don’t know why his hand is making you feel nervous.

hamzah snaps out of it and looks at you, then down at his hand, retracting his arm silently. he pockets the key in his shorts. “where?” he repeats, looking down at you.

“desk.” your voice is barely above a whisper.

he shakes his head. “it makes me even more annoyed with you because you found it before i did.” he says.

you chew on your lip. “doesn’t matter.” you say with a straight face.

he cocks his head to the side, looking aggravated, confused, and curious all at once.

“you owe me.” you remind him with a slight nod, your baby hairs sticking to your forehead as result of the heat in the small apartment.

“right, right.” he nodded. “what do you want?”

as you think of a response, he looks at you like an animal hunting prey.

“what are you willing to give me?” you reply.

“don’t ask me that.” a breathy laugh escapes him, and he rakes his hands through his hair like he’s stressed. “you have no fucking idea.”

“i don’t?”

“no, not a goddamn clue.” he runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek.

the sound of your own heartbeat rings in your ears, your pulse quickening. you don’t know why this ongoing tension you’ve had with him suddenly feels different, like a switch has been flipped.

“what do you mean?” is all you can manage to say as you look at him and his bewildered face, seeming like he’s lost in his own thoughts.

“what do i mean? jesus, what do i mean? yeah, fuck, i can show you what i fucking mean, okay?” he grabs your face in his hands. “you bother me so much. i can’t fucking figure out what it is with you.”

you hold onto his wrists, meeting his eyes, seeing his expression that seems almost challenging.

“god, just shut up.” i whisper urgently.

he pauses for a few seconds, but quickly makes up his mind. “yeah. ‘kay.” he responds too casually, like he can read your thoughts. he runs his thumb along your bottom lip. “can i?”

you nod.

“no, say it.” his voice is barely audible.

“yes, hamzah.”

his lips then press to yours with the urgency that his tone was lacking.

his hands travel to your waist, gripping harshly as his lips overtake yours. “fuck.” he starts to mutter as he breaks away repeatedly, like he’s trying to control himself but he just can’t stop coming back to your lips.

“m’gonna,” another kiss. “give you,” another. “what you deserve.”

you exhale against his lips, snaking your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist when his grip tightens on you and he lifts you up.

he carries you to the couch where he had thrown all the pillows from earlier, sitting you on the edge. he slides his hands under your shirt as he sinks down onto his knees.

watching him kneel before you finally makes it painfully clear what he was intending on doing, because this was what he’s willing to give you.

“oh,” you whisper.

he looks up while he’s in the middle of positioning his head between your legs.

“what?” his brows drop. “not good?”

you gaze down at him. the way he got into this position so quickly, it gives you the impression that maybe this isn’t the first time he’s thought about this.

you start to have doubts, but watching him stare up at you on his knees..

jesus christ, why the fuck not?

“no. s’good.” you nod, lifting your hips up off the surface of the couch. “c’mon.”

his lips part and he lets out an exasperated sigh, wasting no time before he tugs down your shorts and underwear. his breath hitches as your entire lower half is exposed.

“i hate you.” he says. “i hate you, and you’re so beautiful. c’mere,”

he hooks one of your legs over his shoulder and extends his fingers toward you.

“hold my hand.”

your heartbeat is overwhelmingly fast, and you can barely believe the words you’re hearing and the sight before you. your thoughts aren’t even coherent right now, so you decide to ignore them and interlace your fingers with his, your hands clasped together as they now rest upon your stomach.

“squeeze as hard as you fucking want,” he murmurs, finally leaning all the way in to kiss the inside of your thighs.

your grip automatically tenses, your body reacting embarrassingly quick to the fact that his lips are so fucking close to tasting you.

you hear and feel him laugh against your skin like it’s a million tiny electric shocks in your stomach. aside from all your desire, you still feel frustrated with the fact that you hate each other so much, but he’s still buried between your thighs right now.

not just frustrated, you’re angry. he owes you.

“hamzah,” you breathe out, holding onto his hand so tight, you feel as if your bones are touching his. “just fucking- ugh,”

you rake your other hand through his hair, easing his face towards your pussy that’s painfully aching for him by now.

you see his eyes flash up at you for a split second before he responds almost immediately, latching himself onto your pussy and eating you out like his life fucking depended on it.

a constant waterfall of gasps, moans, incoherent mumbles interrupted by groans of his name come spilling from your lips as you feel his tongue working against you, his nose rubbing against your clit.

he doesn’t let go of your hand once, making sure he glances up at you every few seconds to watch your pretty face become damp with sweat, and see how your chest rises and falls with each sharp breath.

“so fucking good,” his voice vibrates against you. “how could i ever hate you, really?”

you can barely hear those last few words, but you’re too caught up in the moment to actually process what they mean.

“i feel, mm,” you can hardly put a sentence together when he’s stimulating every single part of your body so perfectly. his blunt nails gently trace along your leg that he holds over his shoulder, a stark contrast to the way he’s absolutely devouring you right now.

“hamzah, i’m..”

“i know, beautiful. let it out,” he groans.

“oh, shit, fuck!”

your orgasm possesses your whole body within seconds. your thighs trembling, sweat dripping down your chest, your face flushed, your hand still interlocked with his as you release.

it’s silent in the humid room as both of you regain your composure, hamzah taking it upon himself to lay his head against your thigh.

“hamzah..”

he perks up.

“i still don’t like you, you know.” you breathe out with a lazy smile.

his lips spread into a grin. “shut up.”

————————————————————————

[bambiimutt]

Hello, I loved your writing, and I wanted to request some relationship headcons with Masky

Relationship Head cannons

I wanted to do this for everyone I write for cuz I want them to get some attention too!! I hope that’s okay!

TW!! Mentions of stalking, talking of perverts but not super heavy, possessiveness, if I missed anyway let me know!!

Masky/Tim Wright

-Honestly at first he’s a bit awkward, i see him as socially awkward in general so him being in a relationship? Oh my fuck. And it’s not the Awh such a cutie patootie he’s so awkward. No like he’s so awkward he doesn’t know what to do with you. He’s so awkward he goes silent. Awkward babe.

-once the relationship grows into something deeper he’s better. He definitely still has his moments, but it’s now more how he landed you. How he was able to find someone that cares for him and puts up with him. He’s not much honestly just his random outbursts and waking up with no memory of his nights before.

-speaking of. A lot of trauma lays on his shoulders. After jays death who you don’t know much about and everything leading up to the events of marble hornets. All you knew was that he was supposed to be in this student film.. but shit happened. And he refuses to talk about it. You’ll ask him sometimes if you can watch the tapes but he tells you time and time again. No. More because he knows what he is and he doesn’t what you running from him. He’s with you yea but he doesn’t want to expose you to the operator.

-as mentioned in a few of my other posts. He’ll leave for weeks on end and if it’s not for weeks its almost every night. He’s leaving and coming back at ungodly hours. Most of the time you’re asleep and he waits till your asleep to do this. There’s been a few times his mask is left out because he comes home so drained that he kinda forgets to hide it.. and when you question it sometimes he does remember, and most times he doesn’t. But when you ask he’s stammering. He knows why he has it but doesn’t know how to tell you, doesn’t want to.

-he’s not the date night kind of guy but he doesn’t mind spending some time with you from time to time. He doesn’t want you to think he’s ignoring you or just not care for you because he leaves for weeks.. he wants you to know he loves having you around. It’s just. He can’t tell you about his life fully. When it comes to a date night it’s probably lots of time at home, watching a movie on his couch, cuddled up against him. If you fall asleep he’ll make sure you have all of the blanket. He can fully not be as tense, relaxing into you as you sleep against him.

-very very very sarcastic, it earns him smacks to the arm like 10 times a day.

-he’s alright with public affection but again he’s awkward.. sooo maybe don’t be so affectionate in public. But at home, he’s all over you, sleepy man, cuddled up to you, following you around the house. He seems so big and tough but he hates being away from you.

-Tim’s not crazily over protective. Maybe insecure at times but deep down he knows that you are with him because you truly love him. So if anyone ever approaches you he trusts that you can handle it yourself, if not he will 100% help you.. by torturing the guy the same night, and he’ll come back having that be his only memory.

Tobias Rogers

-ARF ARF ARF BITCH IS A FUCKING DOG. I’m telling you that mother fucker IS ALL OVER YOU. Now I’m not saying he isn’t one scary mother fucker. But he tries to keep his shitty ass fucking life out of his love life. Because really.. this isn’t what he wanted ever. He didn’t want to be part of this operator shit. So he tries to be normal? As normal as Toby can get.

-you actually help him a lot with his tics. If he can focus on something for long enough they don’t get as bad as they can get, they actually become more tame, so if he ever has a really bad tic attack, you’re always the one to talk him through it, to calm him down and to focus on your voice. And he’s better in no time.

-TALK ABOUT BEING A PRETTY MOTHER FUCKER.. YOU NEVER GET OVER HOW PRETTY THIS BITCH IS. messy brown hair, brown tired eyes, nicely shaped face, pretty fucking smile. He never used to have one but he ended up growing a semi beard. More of a patch on his chin. And what does he love the most? Hearing you tell him how pretty he is. Running your hands through his hair, kissing his face all over. God he could eat you right up.

-he’s a closeted pervert. But like not to the point where it’s unbearable but like he’s all over you. He’s grabbing your thighs.. he’s leaving hickeys all over. He’s a boob/chest guy. He just wants you close. So close you could fuse into one. He likes you in panties.. he also likes taking them whenever he has to be on a mission for weeks.. and we all know what he’s using them for.

-socially awkward mf. When you’re both out in public he’s so quiet. And he can’t do it alone anymore, not since he’s met you. If you’re ever on the bus, he’s as close as possible, hands fidgeting with your fingers, and staring down at them so he doesn’t have to make eye contact with others. Though there’s been a few times he’s had to interact with the people who complain about how much space he takes. He’s tall and lanky but the man manspreads like there’s no tomorrow. You have to grab his leg and pull it in because he’s just glaring.

-he kinda forgets that you can feel pain. Because he grew up not feeling pain he’s learned to be gentle with the things he cares about. But if you ever want to play fight he can sometimes forget, and get a little rough. So when you get hurt he’s pulling away instantly. “Fuck.. i.. I didn’t t-think that would h-hurt. Baby let me see it..” he’s babying you the rest of the night.

-now even though he’s a pretty good boyfriend he can be a bit much.. at times. He doesn’t mean to trust me. But he can get agitated quite easily. Certain tones can make him start to overthink, he can grow angered, upset. Just try to be reassuring and he should be okay.

-Toby is one of the overprotective ones. He will do anything and everything to go make sure whoever was all over you is not longer waking the fuck up. He might even steal you a little gift to make you feel better.

Ben Lawman/Drowned

-you might wanna buy some shit to keep the house from smelling like weed. And I mean it. He tries not to go crazy because he knows you don’t want the apartment smelling like it, but he can’t help himself sometimes.

-I’m not gonna lie to you, he most definitely watches you through cameras and your computer and shit. He’ll send pop up messages to you just to freak you out, etc. he thinks it’s so silly seeing you get so spooked out.

-he’s typically at home often. He doesn’t really go anywhere, aside from chilling in the fucking computer. So you get to have him around a lot.

-except it can get so fucking annoying. All in all he’s a really calm person, and keeps to himself but when you come along.. he’s all over you. Like suffocating. He wants you on his lap, he wants you sitting between his legs, cuddled up underneath his shirt, please just BE CLOSE. He’s much like Toby in that aspect. He just likes the physical love. Anything physical. I think it kinda brings him comfort too to be honest.. finally feeling the touch of someone. Something.

-like Toby he’s a fucking pervert. But like it’s hella known. He doesn’t keep that a secret. He’s a dirty motherfucker. Like I’m talking footjobs, cosplay.. but like that gamer girl, slutty look.. you name it he likes it.

-he likes to game so a lot of your time is probably spent watching him or playing with him. If you play with him though, be warned he’s a sore loser. He doesn’t rage but more or so finds excuses to show he should have won. But all in all, he’s just fooling around.. he enjoys that you can play with him, he likes that you like what he likes.

-immature. Not all the time but most definitely immature at times. To be fair when he died, he was still fairly young so sometimes his humour can be a bit.. questionable. Even if you aren’t laughing, he’s slapping his knee and pissing himself laughing, looking at you so that he can see your reaction. Just smile.

-he’s not overprotective. Like Tim he’s just really fucking insecure and I mean really. Really insecure. He sees other couples. How normal they are. How alive they are. And he can’t be that. He feels bad that he can never keep you warm because he’s an actual freezer. He feels like compared to others.. you could do so much better. So when someone hits on you.. he’s sulking. He’s walking further away from you. He’s just insecure. And scared to lose you. But these boys are also.. murderers. So knowing Ben.. well. That person shouldn’t have done that.

Jeffery Hodex/Jeff The Killer

-Asshole. Asshole. Asshole. Dickhead. Did I mention he’s a fucking asshole. He may seem like he doesn’t care about you. But I promise you he does. He just has weird ways of showing it..

-an actual fucking bully. I’m sure he’s made you cry time and time again, but you don’t do it in front of him, you don’t want him to think it hurts. Oh but if he knew.. if he knew how much it hurt you he’d beat himself up over it.

-he may seem like a fucking hard ass but he hates when you cry..he’s never one to show his emotions but it’s when those tears fall that he could break right there.

-hates public affection.. but at home? Different story. “Play with my hair.” “Jeff no, I’m busy.” “Please.. pretty please” there’s a moment of silence before you’re rolling your eyes and his head is on your lap.

-talk about sec when he’s angry. It’s a good way for him to get out his pent up anger, or if something happened he just needs you. So really what I’m trying to say is underneath all that hard exterior.. he does need you in many ways. Wether he likes to admit that or not.

-even though he’s an asshole.. he makes up for it with his rare sweet moments. To me. Jeff is.. not like others? I just mean, look wise he was always the odd one out not that he was ugly but like because he didn’t look like every other normal kid there. So having a metal head boyfriend..? With some kinda cool scaring by his lips in the form of a slight smile. Pale skin long black hair, tall and fit…. You know he’s playing the guitar to you. Yknow the room is gonna be filled with a bunch of black shit, band stuff, his weird collection of knives. On the note of he makes up for it with his sweet moments. Sometimes he’ll go through his collections with you. He will play the guitar for you, he’s also quite a good singer so expect some of that. (He most definitely sings you to sleep.. but he makes sure you’re half asleep first so you don’t remember it.)

-he’s not as horrible as he seems, he just.. doesn’t like showing his true emotions. He likes to look like the big bad tough guy. But really.. that scared little kid that hates the world is still in there. So what he needs is comfort. And you provide that. Just give him some time.

-overprotective. And if that was an understatement it would be far more then that. He is wayyyy too overprotective, possessive. You’re his. And his only. Nobody should speak to you in any form of flirting, nobody should look at you, touch you. You. Are. His. Now he keeps the killing out of your knowledge… as much as possible. Sometimes almost getting caught by you.. anyway. The person that looked at your ass and you didn’t even know? Yeah dead by 11 pm. You most definitely find out.

-type of motherfucker to have pictures of you on his phone with his hands around your throat, sitting on his lap, etc. post it. He wants you to. He’ll send them to you just to do it. He likes to show off what’s his.

-when I mentioned he was an asshole. I meant it. Because he doesn’t know how to handle his own emotions he can’t handle yours either. He internally freaks out. So what does he do? Does what he does best. Shuts you out and gets angry at you for showing your emotions

-please don’t be too upset.. he’ll be wandering in some point that night to hold you. He just doesn’t know how to tell what he’s going through.. so just hold him. It’s his way of being vulnerable with you.

Brian/Hoodie

-to be honest. He may be One of the more normal ones. Though when he leaves for weeks on end and comes back for a good while he’s just not himself. He’s quiet. He wants to be alone. He hates being touched, he snaps so much easier. But other then that. Brian tries to completely forget about everything he does and focuses on you.

-a lot of the time, he likes to spend quality time with you. Walking in the local park, doing art, helping him edit his “silly” little videos as you call them. Oh how oblivious you are. He’s a sweetheart, kind, caring. He’s gentle. He knows your likes and dislikes like the back of his hand. He knows what makes you tic, what makes you sulk, what makes you smile. You can thank him stalking you for that.

-yeah remember what I said about him being the most normal, he may have a few quirks. He stalks you from time to time. Not that he doesn’t trust you.. he just. Can’t take his eyes off of you. Ever. Because he doesn’t know what the operator could do.. and well. He just wants to see you, but more to keep you safe.

-he can’t sit still unless he knows where you are at, if you’re okay. And once he knows he can be at peace. So you can only imagine how fucking hard it is for him to be gone for weeks. He ignores all text messages he gets aside from yours. He’s constantly talking to you, making sure you’re okay. he just needs some reassurance and he’ll be okay.

-his camera is full of videos of you. He likes to take these home styles videos of you. Cooking in the kitchen in you’re underwear and his hoodie, you dancing in the living room, sleeping. He likes to look back at them from time to time.

-he makes sure to keep his pills and if you take any medication, organized and separated. He’d freak the fuck out if you accidentally took some of his. That and he needs a specific dosage.. one a doctor didn’t prescribe for him. Ahem. More his dosage of what he pleases. Don’t worry he claims he’s okay time and time again.

-he’s not like Tim with his memory loss, but he can forget things from Time to time. So if you can, if you were there just try and sit with him to help him remember. All he needs is to know that you’ll be patient.

-he likes kisses. Give them to him. Immediately. He wants them all over. His lips, cheeks, forehead. He’s such a sweet man.

[livelaughlovesubs]

hello hello!!! as for the event can i ask lyney (if you write for him, ofc!!) with "making them perfom tricks" plus "begging"? i thought about him right when i read the first prompt. 😭

hope you have a nice day!!! :D

Thank you :] I was a little lost on what to do as ‘tricks’ but @illustrious-ia helped me brainstorm

Dom!reader x sub!lyney - reader is GN

Warning: strip tease, anal play, dildo & bullet vibrator, teasing, voyeur (?)

Anniversary event

The click of the door, loud footsteps as he walks up the stairs, a heavy sigh before he enters your room, all blushy already when you two locked eyes. “How did your performance go?” You stared up from the bed, sitting up, smiling softly. “Everything went well, you’d expect nothing less from the greatest magician.” Lyney said, ruffling one hand through his dirty-blond hair. “A shame you weren’t there to watch me.”

Slowly, he got closer to you, kneeling down at the bed post, looking at you with such adoration. “You are right, so, won’t you give me a private performance?” His eyes lit up at that, and he smirked mischievously, “my pleasure.” Afterward, he stood up again, undressing himself with a teasingly slow pace, feeling your gaze on his body. “Please watch me carefully.” The boy mumbled, untying every single ribbon on his body. This was a game he enjoyed to play, to test your patience and to egg you on.

“You shouldn’t let your audience wait so long, they might get bored and leave you know?” You said, hinting at something, though you knew he wouldn’t fall for that. “I have no need for an audience who can’t appreciate the art of waiting.” Lyney answered you confidently, now taking off his gloves and peeling off his leg wear. The way he did it was provoking, wriggling his hips around, doing his best to show you his chocolate side. Seeing how much effort he was putting in, you decided to give up, “mhm, is that so? Fine, I’ll wait.”

Once he was entirely stripped of his clothes, he did a little twirl as if to showcase a pretty dress, though he wasn’t wearing one. He let you take a good look at his body, not an ounce of shame present in his actions. You clapped sarcastically, saying, “oh lyney, our greatest magician, please show us a worthwhile trick~” he bowed at your two faced compliment, replying with, “why of course, I’m sure the next act will be splendid!”

Then, to your surprise, he grabbed a nearby chair and put it in front of you, so that you’d have a good view of the object. After that, he grabbed his black hat and continued his little show. “Next, my lovely audience, I’ll pull an item out of my hat~” he kept going with this persona of his, acting as if he was searching for something with an arm completely buried in that hat of his. “Ahh, my apologies, it seems it’s quite cramped in here.” You waited with bated breath, staring at him intensely as he pulled out… some cards, some tape, a plushy, a rose bouquet that he drew at you, some vibrators and a suction dildo.

“Haha, sorry for the long wait, there it is, what I was looking for.” Now he was grinning all excited, pressing the toy against the chair, strapping the vibrators to his chest and already fully erect member. Once he was done, he hovered above the silicon toy, using the tip to poke at his entrance, before slowly taking the gland in. He didn’t use lube nor did he prepare himself, and with one swift motion he sat down completely. “Nghh~ w-what do you think, y/n? Pretty impressive, huh?” Finally he broke his facade, one hand clenching the edge of the chair, the other one holding a book.

You caught the bouquet with a confused look, wondering if it was a part of the shoe. It must be, considering he doesn’t do useless things. When you looked closely at the bouquet, you found remotes in it, which were probably for the vibrators on his nipples. With a big grin, you turned it on, listening to the low vibration sound and his lustful gasps. He was withering, an aroused look across his features as his insides tightened around the toy. You stared at the way his small body eagerly swallowed the huge toy, clenching around it with such fever. “Yes, I am enjoying myself. Go on, mr. Magician.”

He took a while until he could maintain eye contact with you, then declared with a shaky voice, “n-now, I’ll read you a s-story, hnnGggh.. while riding this, ah, toy.” So, basically he was saying, ‘watch me while I become a needy bitch for you’. You wanted to comment on it, to maybe stand up and ‘help him’ as an assistant, but he continued his speech with, “p-please stay seated until the end. When I’m done, we can gladly do some fan meetings ♥︎”

[judesmoonbeauty]

Jude Jazza's IF Prison Guard Story Set: "Immoral Interrogation"- Story One

MDNI. NSFW. This is part 1 of the story. Translations will include heavily cropped screenshots as mentioned here. Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do not post my translations elsewhere. Thank you, for you support! ☾.

CW: DC/NC (?) I don’t think it needs this, but some might feel triggered.

Okay, let’s go now while there’s no guards.)

(The exit is just up ahead—)

???: - Stop right there.

When a sharp voice called out from behind me, my shoulders flinched and my feet came to stop.

???: Raise yer hands ‘n c’mere. Any unnecessary movements ‘n I’ll shoot.

The commanding voice was indifferent, and it didn’t sound like a mere threat.

If an escaped prisoner such as myself were to resist, I’d be shot dead by the enemy.

(Because I can’t die now….I have no choice, but to obey.)

I raise my hands and look backward —

— His cold amethyst eyes stared straight at me.

I was arrested and thrown back into prison, where I was roughly rolled onto the cold floor.

As I lay on my back, the man casually placed his foot on my defenseless stomach.

Kate: [Gasp]……!

???: Prisoner number R5328...If I’m not mistaken, yer one of the intelligence agents from the neighborin’ country.

???: Ya were imprisoned after a failed attempt to steal secrets from this country…

Kate: Ha….you know me so well. Are you a fan?

When I responded sarcastically so as not to be overwhelmed by his spirit, he laughed mockingly at me from deep in his throat.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: I’m a guard of this prison. I’ve got all the prisoner’s information memorized.

Kate: But that doesn’t look like a guard’s uniform.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: I’m off duty today. Was ‘boutta rest up when I saw ya tryin’ to escape.

Kate:…..You’re so loose-lipped. Is that okay? Telling me that you’re off duty.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: Even if ya know that much, it ain’t no skin off my back.

I guess that’s not just big talk.

I’d heard before that the guards of this prison were superior, and that once you’ve been caught, you’d never escape again.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: Seems like no matter how much they tortured ya, ya wouldn’t say thing.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: What’s more, it takes a lotta guts to plan a prison break. I like a lively woman.

Kate: Walking all over the woman you like, the guards of this country have extremely great tastes.

As I collapsed in a wretched state, I glared at the guard, provoking him.

Even though my stomach was being stepped on, I didn’t want it to reach my heart, so I mustered my best bravado.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: Yeah, those defiant lookin’ eyes.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: Even though yer a prisoner with no power ‘n no freedom, ya still haven't given up, have ya?

The foot that had been stepping on my stomach moves away slowly.

I thought it was a chance to sit up, but when I tried to move, I put pressure on my legs, so I couldn’t move carelessly.

……That’s when the guard shoe came between my legs.

Kate: …..Ahh.

The tip of the shoe gently stimulates the space between my legs, making me let out an unexpected cry.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: Yer so cute it’s worth torturin’ ya.

(Such bad taste….!)

The guard finally removed his foot, as if he was satisfied that I’d raised my voice.

Giving up on escaping, I got up and sat on the prison bed.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: Maybe ya were plannin’ on meetin’ up with yer friends after escapin’…..but it pointless.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: Feel sorry for ya, but ain’t no one comin’ here to help ya.

Kate: On what basis….

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: I was readin’ somethin’ interestin’.

The guard handed me a newspaper that was printed in my country.

The shocking headline read, “BETRAYAL BY OUR COUNTRY’S OWN SPY.”

(This, is about me….?)

— Two months ago, it was reported that a a spy sent by our country had been taken prisoner by the enemy country.

However, newly discovered evidence shows the spy had been in contact with the enemy even prior to being captured.

Kate: I’m a traitor who’s been in contact with an enemy army?!

Kate: That’s BULLSHIT! I’d never do that!

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: …..That’s the reality.

(Huh….?)

Was it just my imagination that those muttered words sounded soft somehow.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: …..Well, ‘course they’re gonna make ya out to be a traitor.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: If they say they’re gonna abandon a spy who’s sworn their allegiance ‘n worked hard,

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: Not only does that sound bad, it’s affects morale.

Kate: ……

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: Betrayed by yer homeland, ya got no one on yer side.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: Even if ya escape ‘n go back, they’ll silence ya by killin’ ya.

I know the guards are taking this chance to crush my spirit, make me despair, and trying to win me over —

(Is there really no one who wants me to comeback alive….?)

— My heart sinks at the information before me.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: ….But, if ya spill all the information, I’ll be on yer side, sound good?

His words seep into the cracks of my crumbling heart like a sweet poison.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: Country doesn’t matter. …..I’ll be yer sole ally.

Kate: …..Seems like, you plan to seduce me with sweet words, and then extract information from me?

Kate: I’m saddened by my homeland’s decision, but I’m NOT going to give up information -…..mm!

Suddenly, the guard kisses me hard, cutting me off.

I tried shaking him off, but he pulled on the chains that cuffed my arms, and pushed me down on the bed.

Kate: N……ngh…..ah……

The more I struggle and resist, the stronger the kisses become.

My lips were bitten, my tongue sucked, my breath melted, and my thoughts become muddied and caved —

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: ….Ha, looks like it feels good.

Kate: How does this feel good…..Tss, Nngh…..

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: Denyin’ it even though yer makin’ sucha sweet voice?…..Bad woman.

The guard reached down to my breasts. While kissing me, his large hand cups and squeezes them.

Because the prison uniform was thin, I could clearly feel the guards' hands, and my body inevitably became hot.

Kate: Ah……Nnghaa……!

I tried to hold back, but I let out a moan due to the sweet ache.

Hearing this the guard parted his lips from me with a somewhat satisfied smile.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: …..Wasn’t it yer country that betrayed ya first? Then, it’s okay if ya betray ‘em too.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: If ya tell me everything, I’ll make ya feel even better?

The guard’s fingertips move down from my chest.

They trailed down my stomach, between my legs, and under my clothes.

Kate: ……haa.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: If ya want me here, then have a nice chat with me.

In this situation where I had no one to rely on, the guard's words sounded extremely appealing.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: Force size, strategic objectives, chain of command, codes….

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: …..Share all the information ya know.

The combination of pleasure and fatigue begin to dull my thinking.

But before my mind was completely overtaken, I came to my senses.

Kate: I won’t tell you anything….!

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: …..Why’re ya so stubborn? I can’t understand it.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: Is there anything in yer homeland that ya would go to such lengths to protect?

As he spoke, the guard’s fingers came in and penetrated my muddy spot.

Kate: Ahh…….

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: I don’t dislike it. Ya can tell me all by yerself how good it feels when I touch ya.

The guard’s fingertips crushes my secret bud, and stimulates my shallow spots.

My body writhes in inescapable pleasure.

Kate: Let go……Mmm….Tss

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: I’ll stop if ya spill.

Still, I can’t give up information about my country just because of a lewd interrogation.

Kate: Ah…..I….made a, promise….

Amethyst-Eyed Guard:….A promise?

The finger movements that tormented me, came to a sudden stop.

Kate: When I was a child….there was a boy from a neighboring country that I was friends with.

Kate: I hope to meet that boy again someday…..

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: …..

Kate: Shortly after the promise was made, the two countries went to war….

Kate: But if the war can be brought to an amicable end, diplomatic relations may be restored…..!

….At present, the country where I live is somewhat on the losing side of the war.

To return the situation to an equilibrium and conclude peace, we spies had no choice but to gather information from neighboring countries.

Kate: That's why I can’t share the information, so that way I can reunite with that boy, Jazza, someday…..[1]

After being tortured and interrogated by the guards, what I ended up spilling was not information about the state, but a promise I made as a child.

It was the number one reason why I became a secret agent... and I guess I just blurted it out.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: ….Forget about that promise ‘n take it easy.

Those words were supposed to encourage me to confess, but for some reason, the guard's expression contorted as if he was enduring pain.

For a moment, the color of his eyes, which seemed to be tinged with bitterness, seemed to overlap with the color of the boy with whom I had made the promise.

(…..But, I’m sure it’s just a mistaken resemblance.)

Kate: I won't listen to a man from an enemy country whose name I don't even know.

Kate: I won’t divulge any information, and I will fulfill my promise someday.

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: ……

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: If ya can’t forget or break yer promises….

Amethyst-Eyed Guard: Inside the adult cage, you’ll be teased, tormented, ‘n loved by me.

The amethyst eyes lit up with a sadistic color, and my body shivered. Was it fear —

Ftn [1] Kate actually calls him Jazza-kun here. AWWWW!!!!

Jude: Tell me everything I wanna know, and I'll make ya feel even better. Kate: No. Jude: *Proceeds to finger her anyway* (I think you missed the point babe.)

Just you all wait for part 2 .........because dayyumm.

[Master List] [Part Two] Dividers: @.natimiles

Tags List: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @letter-from-afar @nateko @cosmowgyrall. @lunaaka

Please let me know if you want to be added to my tags list by commenting below.

[floralcyanide]

⊹ when in copenhagen

request: a basic one to start! shower sex with carmy? in which you and Carmy argue your way into showering together.

↝ pairing: Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Fem!Reader

↝ warnings: spoilers for The Bear (kinda?), smut (mdni!), unprotected sex, penetrative sex, brief nipple play, fingering, arguing (a lot), shower sex

↝ word count: 2k

↝ author's note: finally watched The Bear!! so guess what that means lol (I hope you all enjoy this!! I didn't edit lowkey but oh well)

masterlist ⋇ divider credit: @cafekitsune

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

There’s not a lot of room on this boat.

It’s your first thought as you take time to tour where you’ll be residing for a while. You’re in Copenhagen, Denmark, for some cooking lessons, but not alone. You’re with your fellow chef and another student of Andrea Terry’s, Carmen Berzatto. You aren’t quite sure why Chef Terry sent both of you here simultaneously, but you have a few ideas. One of them is that the two of you solve the weird tension you have going on while you’re here. The other is to obviously kill two birds with one stone and send more than one chef to learn new ways to create. But the first idea seemed the most likely. The houseboat where you and Carmen, or Carmy, as he preferred to be called, are going to stay for the foreseeable future is fairly dinky and barely has room for two beds. One of them is technically the couch that pulls out into a full-size bed. You and Carmy will probably argue over who gets which bed. The two of you argue a lot over just about everything. Chef Terry is probably ecstatic that she gets a break from it for a while. 

It isn’t long before a disagreement on who gets to shower first begins. There’s also a side banter on who is making dinner or whether or not you’re ordering in and who is doing the ordering. It’s sort of your dynamic to never agree on anything, ever. You wish you had taken this trip separately, but of course, Chef Terry had to deal you a bad hand. Enriching your palettes is one thing, but your stress levels are another. You can’t see the tension between the two of you resolving any time soon, so you fear this supposed adventure isn’t going to be as enjoyable as you thought. 

In a moment of pressed anger, a sarcastic comment leaves your lips, “We could always just shower together and shut the fuck up about it.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” Carmy rubs his chin before turning around and grabbing two towels from the linen closet.

“What?” you laugh incredulously, “You can’t be serious right now.”

“Look,” Carmy rolls his eyes, “It’s better than standing here arguing all fucking night, is it not?”

You cross your arms and stifle a pout, much like a child, but meet Carmy’s eyes reluctantly, “Fine. Just don’t look at me while I shower.”

“That’s going to be a little difficult since we’re going to be right next to each other, but I won’t have to try very hard anyway,” Carmy rolls his eyes.

You’re slightly offended by his comment but recover enough to follow him to the bathroom without responding. Carmy pulls off his shirt before turning on the shower and tossing it onto the floor. You do the same as the two of you quickly undress, avoiding each other’s gaze. You frown at the somewhat weak stream of water coming from the shower and dare to glance at Carmy’s bare back. You aren’t blind by any means; Carmy is attractive as hell. He’s built quite nicely in a physical manner and has flattering features. Plus, you can’t help but be attracted to how quickly he can match your attitude. So, keeping your eyes averted from Carmy’s naked, sculpted body is a little difficult on your end. But it doesn’t seem hard at all for your fellow traveler to avoid staring, as you had asked him to. It’s a little disappointing, but at least you finally get to wash off the stale sweat you’ve been sporting for hours. The shower stall is small but spacious enough to some degree for two people to fit.

Once both of you find yourselves under the water, Carmy wastes no time scrubbing himself with the soap he brought with him. You do the same, keeping your eyes to yourself and trying not to accidentally nudge him with your elbow. The two of you struggle to rinse off without nearly slipping or bumping into each other. 

“How about one of us washes first and rinses, and the other one goes next?” Carmy turns to you, sighing in frustration.

“Who goes first, then?” you raise an eyebrow, expecting to argue some more.

“You can, by all means,” Carmy offers, and your jaw almost drops.

You furrow your brow at him, “And what do I owe you for this lack of fussing?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs innocently.

The reality is that Carmy just wants to watch you. Not in a creepy way, or maybe it is sort of creepy, but he thinks you’re attractive, too. The no-watching rule doesn’t count if you aren't caught, right? Carmy just needs to be slick about it. You hesitantly take up the offer to fully wash first, squirting some shampoo into your palm before lathering it into your hair. 

“If you need me to get your back, just let me know, sweetheart,” Carmy offers jokingly.

You snort, “I will. Thanks.”

You manage to wash and condition your hair in peace, unknowingly having the burning blue eyes of Carmy on you. When it’s time to wash everywhere else, you take Carmy up on his offer just to see his reaction. You turn around to face him, his gaze quickly averting away.

“Actually, if you could get my back, I’d greatly appreciate it, Carm,” you smile cheekily, offering him your loofah.

“Oh,” he says, “I didn’t think you’d actually take me up on it,” he scoffs, taking the loofah from you.

“Stranger things have happened,” you shrug.

“Hmm. Really?” Carmy starts to gently scrub your back, “Like what?”

“Us showering together is literally one of those things,” you say plainly.

“No need for sass,” Carmy leans into your ear, “We were doing just fine there for a minute.”

You fight back a shiver at Carmy’s closeness, “You’re right. I’ll be quiet now. Keep scrubbing.”

Carmy switches the loofah for his hand, spreading the suds around with his palm, massaging your tense shoulders. You let out a small sigh at the feeling of yourself relaxing for the first time today. Carmy snakes his arm around you, handing you the loofah back.

“Who said for you to stop?” you turn your head around at him, and you’re met with his eyes being darker than usual.

“I could keep going, but uh,” Carmy clears his throat, “I can’t promise I’ll stop.”

“Why’s that?” you ask curiously, borderline teasing.

“Don’t trek into dangerous territory,” Carmy warns.

You turn to fully face him, “I know your comment earlier wasn’t true. About you not having to try hard not to stare.”

“How so?”

“You stare at me all the time. Don’t think I don’t notice it, Berzatto,” you smirk.

Carmy runs a hand through his wet hair, wondering if he should be so bold to respond with what he wants to. Instead, he takes you by surprise and grabs a hold of your hips, his thumbs bruisingly pressing into the fat of them. 

“I told you not to trek,” Carmy mutters, his eyes serious but darkening more by the second.

“What if I want to?” you say, testing just how far Carmy would go.

One of his hands wraps around the back of your neck, bringing you close to his face so he can crash his lips onto yours. You find yourself kissing back, your fingers tangling into Carmy’s hair at the nape of his neck. He pushes you against the shower wall, his one hand still holding you by your hip. Carmy slips his tongue inside your mouth, taking more control of the embrace. He takes a moment to run both hands along your sides, pulling your body closer to his. You feel him hard against your stomach.

“Need some help, Berzatto?” you pull away from the kiss, glancing down at Carmy’s length at attention against his toned abdomen, “I’m already trekking far enough, so why not?”

“Only if you let me make dinner after this,” Carmy says.

“Deal,” you shrug.

You reach between your bodies and begin stroking Carmy slowly, to which he lets out a breathy moan. He has thought about this moment far too many times- you grasping him and getting him off. Carmy thrives off your anger toward him, and you thrive off of his, too. It only seems plausible it’d end up like this.

Carmy daringly grasps one of your breasts as you pump your hand along his shaft at a quicker pace, squeezing you and teasing your nipple with his thumb. You hum at the feeling, spreading around the precum on his tip. Carmy’s hand moves from your chest down your stomach and to your heat, where he cups it, hesitant to go any further without permission.

“Don’t get scared on me now,” you look him in the eyes, “I expect something out of this, too. So go ahead.”

Carmy wastes no time dipping a finger into you, wanting to make a dig at you for being so wet already just from touching him, but he refrains. Instead, he adds another finger, using the heel of his hand to press against your clit. He thrusts his fingers inside you, finding a spot that causes you to grip him harshly in response.

“Keep doing that, and we’ll have to fuck,” you whine.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” Carmy says, his free hand now carding through your hair, his fingernails grazing your scalp.

You pull Carmy’s fingers from you, replacing them with the head of his cock, “Take this as a promise and not a threat, then.”

Carmy drags himself along your slit before guiding himself inside your entrance, wincing at how tight you are as inch by inch is taken by your needy cunt. Once he’s fully inside you, Carmy boxes you in with his arms, pressing them to the shower wall on either side of your head. You wrap a leg around his waist and brace your hands on his chest as he starts thrusting. Carmy’s eyes bore into yours, drinking in your sounds and facial expressions with every jerk of his hips. You move an inch forward to capture his lips into a heated kiss, moving your body along with every movement of his. You moan pitifully into Carmy’s mouth as he hits a spot inside you that makes stars appear behind your eyelids. 

“Do that again,” you say weakly, and Carmy repeats the action except a little harder this time.

“Taking my cock so well that you can’t argue about it, can you?” Carmy says in your ear, “Now I know how to shut you up.”

“I’ll do whatever you want if you keep fucking me like this,” you throw your head back against the wall, your back pressed flush to it as Carmy fucks into you as fast as his hips allow.

“I’ll take you up on that, sweetheart,” Carmy smirks, nibbling your ear playfully.

You feel the familiar tightness in your belly growing, “I’m close.”

Carmy sneaks a hand between you and strokes your clit with his fingers, urging you to cum. You teeter closer to the edge as he presses his fingertips harder on the bundle of nerves, rubbing tight circles. With one particularly angled thrust, you orgasm hard around Carmy, your walls clenching his length pitifully. The feeling of you coming undone then triggers his release, and he fills you up to the brim with a low, guttural moan. The water has since turned cold, and once you unwrap yourself from Carmy, you immediately turn the shower off. 

“How about that dinner, Carm?”

Carmy is busy catching his breath but replies, “Sure thing. Just don’t argue about what I’m making, and we’ll be fine.”

You grab your towel, “You make it sound like I argue about everything, which isn't true. Sometimes, it’s you who wants to whine and complain.”

Carmy purses his lips at you, smacking your ass with his towel, “Just be grateful I fucked you and am also making you dinner.”

Once bedtime arrives, the two of you decide not to fight over who gets which bed and opt to share the main one. It’s better than making a fuss. Plus, falling asleep with Carmy’s arms around you was worth all the pent-up tension you had dealt with for so long.

[acewritesfics]

Hopelessly In Love | Tommy Shelby

⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS. UNFORTUNATELY, I HAVE TO DO IT THIS WAY. MORE INFO IN MY PINNED POST.

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: No

Fic Type: Imagine

Warnings: Sarcasm, teasing, two idiots in love.

Word Count: 1,821

TOMMY SHELBY MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

“I need you," Y/N hears from behind her and turns around to see her best friend standing there, looking exasperated. 

“Good afternoon, Y/N. I sincerely hope your day is going well,” she begins sarcastically as she finishes hanging her mother's latest shipment of dresses on the racks.

Y/N works in her mother's boutique. A boutique in Small Heath sounded ridiculous considering the surroundings but her mother had opened the store, claiming that women needed a nice place to shop among the smoke and grime. “Well Thomas, it’s going so well that I’m sure nothing will bother me for the rest of the day, even when my best friend storms in like some neanderthal claiming he needs me like it’s a matter of life or death.” 

Tommy stood there, his hands in his pocket, looking at her unimpressed, his brows creased into a frown. A smug smirk stretches across her face. 

“What can I do you for, Tommy?” She asks, moving back behind the counter. 

“I need you to go to the races with me,” he tells her removing his hands from his pockets and stepping closer to the counter.  

“What? Has Hell frozen over or is it finally the day women have stopped throwing themselves at Thomas Shelby’s feet?” She teases her childhood friend. “Oh, Tommy, it must be hard,” she says pouting, giving her him a look of false sympathy.  

“Shut it, you,” he glares at her, elbows resting on the counter as he leans forward. “I’m being serious.” 

“Why do you want to take me to the races?” She questions him. They hadn’t been to the races together since before the war. It was sort of their tradition, one that was so easily forgotten when the war was over, and Tommy had thrown himself into making a better name for the Shelby’s. Instead of making the name better, he also made it fearful. “Why don’t you take that pretty barmaid you seem so smitten with. Or Lizzy, who’s more than eager to have a proper date with you.” 

“Why should I take them when I can take you, eh?” he asks, watching her as she busies herself with the clutter on the counter. She looks unsure but Tommy can tell that she’s thinking hard about it. “What are you afraid of?” 

“That you’ll forget all about the barmaid and fall hopelessly in love with me again,” she quips with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just like when we were kids. You could never resist my charm and we don't want to break the barmaid's poor treacherous heart.” 

Y/N couldn't deny that she did like Grace, the barmaid Harry had hired, at first. She seemed lovely and got along quite well with her until she realized Grace was asking her a lot of questions about Tommy. At first, she thought the blonde woman fancied her best friend and she wasn't sure how she felt about it. Grace wasn't the first woman to end up with a crush on the blue-eyed devil. Tommy wasn't hard to fall in love with. But when she started asking her about the Shelby family business and the Peaky Blinders, she became suspicious that Grace's interest in Tommy wasn't as genuine as she made it out to be. And then there was the time she caught Grace eavesdropping and snooping around. She began to put two and two together. 

An Irish inspector and a pretty Irish woman, step foot in Small Heath at the same time. The barmaid, who's never actually worked in a pub before now, conveniently gets herself a job at the Garrison, the pub the Shelby Brothers frequent often and just so happens to set her eyes on the leader of the Peaky Blinders.  

She'd tried to talk to Tommy about it, but the stubborn man wouldn't hear any of it so she went to Polly who had also done the math. For a man who claimed to be smart, he became the stupidest idiot she's ever met when it comes to a pretty face. 

“I knew that love tea would have consequences,” he smiles thinking of the times they sat with his mother while she did what she called magic. He purposefully ignores her comment about Grace. He didn't want to talk or think about her right now. His sole focus is on convincing Y/N to go to the races with him, like old times and how he'd promised her all those years ago. “Maybe it’s why I never stopped being hopelessly in love with you.” 

"Don't tell Grace that," she says looking back at him before moving on to inspect the next dress, a pretty deep forest green with black beading and a black lace hem. 

"Fuck Grace," he scoffs, rolling his eyes. "This is about us." 

"There is no us, Tommy," she sighs and moves on to the red dress that's not as pretty as the green.  

"Just come to the races with me," he begins. "I haven't taken you in a while. Let me take you again." 

"Do I have a choice?"  

He shakes his head, "No." 

She looks at him, her brows creased into a frown showing her frustration.  

"Wear the green one," he adds, dropping £7 onto the counter.  

"It's only worth £5," she informs him, knowing there is no point in arguing with him. Once Tommy was set on something, there was no stopping him. 

"Buy something to go with it," he suggests. "Maybe some new shoes," he adds as he takes the dress off the mannequin and hands it to her, placing a soft kiss on her cheek before he starts making his way out of the store. "I'll pick you up at 8:30 tomorrow morning." 

"I despise you, Thomas Shelby," she calls after him. 

"And I love you, Y/N L/N" he says when he reaches the door and turns to look at her once more. "Hopelessly love you." 

Her smile goes from ear to ear this time as she watches him leave, with a slight shake of her head. She turns to go back to the counter to wrap the dress up and startles when she sees her mother standing there, a knowing smirk on her lips.  

"It's about time that boy made his move," her mother says, taking the dress from her and folds it neatly on the paper they use to wrap the clothing in. "Better late than never, I guess." 

"It's not like that, Mum," she says picking up the £7 Tommy left and placing it inside the till.  

"Of course, it is," her mum argues, walking towards where the shoes are and picks out a pair of black t-strap heels, to match the beading on the dress and brings them over to the counter. "Thomas Shelby has been in love with you since you were both five years old and you've been in love with him for just as long," she adds placing the shoebox on the counter next to the dress. "Don't waste any more time, Darling." 

"I do love him," she admits. "Some days I wonder why." 

"And you'll have plenty more of those days," her mum chuckles. "Now get out of here and go rest up for tomorrow."  

"I love you, mum," she says hugging the woman who gave her life.  

"I love you too, sweetheart." 

"I must admit, I did miss this," Y/N says, sitting across the table from Tommy as they sat in the VIP area of the racecourse, in the forest green with black beading dress he paid for and heels her mother picked out. 

After a successful day at the races, they made their way up to the VIP lounge where they got a drink, a meal and did some dancing. Tommy was unable to keep his eyes off her from the moment he saw her standing on the curb waiting for him to pick her up. It made driving a little difficult since he tried his hardest to concentrate on the road and not the beautiful woman sitting next him. And then when they got to the races, he glared down, silently threatening the men who dared to let their eyes linger on her.  

"Do you remember the first time we snuck in here?" he asks her, a soft smile on his lips. Leaning back, he watches her as she thinks back to it.  

They were 16 at the time and she had come along with him, his brothers and his father. He'd been to the races plenty of times before, but she'd never been until that day. They both got dressed in their finest clothes back then, which were nowhere near the standard of clothing they were in today. Tommy had tried to talk his way into the VIP section, using that silver tongue of his that he had been born with. Unfortunately, it didn't work, and they had found a space in the back that they could use to sneak into the elegant area reserved for the wealthy.  

They'd spent 10 minutes in the area before they were escorted out and off the grounds of the racecourse and were made to wait there until his dad returned from being inside. That night Tommy had made her a promise. 

"I promise that one day, I will buy you the prettiest dress and we'll go back there, and they'll let us in. When they do, we'll spend the night dancing and when I take you home afterwards, I'll kiss you goodnight." 

She feels her heart skip a beat as she remembers word for word what he had promised her. As she got older, she had always played it off as a silly childish promise that held no real meaning.  

Tommy stood up from his chair and moved round the table, standing beside her as he held his hand out towards her. "Let's go home, Love." 

Y/N takes his hand and stands up, grabbing her clutch off the table and lets him lead her back to his vehicle.  

Once they arrive at the passenger's side, Tommy decides he can't wait until he drops her off home. Stopping her from getting into the car, he pulls her close, a hand on her waist and the other caresses her cheek. 

"Tommy," her voice comes out as a whisper as her heart jumps into her throat at the little space left between them.  

"I can't wait," he breathes, his voice soft as he plants his lips to hers in a soft and sweet kiss. Both their eyes flutter closed as a rush of warmth envelopes them as they pull each other as close as they can, deepening the kiss. 

Tommy is the one to end it when they start to become breathless. "I am hopelessly in love with you." 

"I know," she says, unable to hide her grin as she kisses him again. "I am hopelessly in love with you too, Thomas Shelby." 

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[astropookie]

Sun houses and fathers 🌞

Yoshitomi Nara

✨first post of 2024✨

take what resonates, leave what don’t 🎀 you don’t have to necessarily identify with it.

*I use whole sign system -house system- for more certainty

9H: you’re learning constantly from your dad. he teaches you what he’ve learned through his life. he’s teaching you about his mindset, the origin of his beliefs, why he stands for them. he could be someone very religious or faithful, and through that faith he could have teach you things he know now. also, he could be really philosophical and probably has a fixation with politics, investing. he could seem very patient or is constantly worried trying to understand how he can help you.

10H: your dad could be someone really hardworking, who you could have seen work really hard through all this years, making sure you’re satisfied in the economic and study aspect. he could have not been present too much when you were growing up and when he showed up he was too strict, he probably wasn’t conscious or didn’t know how to approach you -could be bc they thought him to bottle up his emotions-. you could end up studying/working on the same career/field your dad’s in.

11H: your dad it’s okay with who you are, or what side you show to them🧐. you’re their fav or they left you. you could feel like the only child/you are. he could seem too disperse, take it how you want to. idk why but mostly of dads of sun 11H are younger than what’s expected. he’s permissive. you were a spoiled kid, that has to do with your dad. “dreams” that word is important, he had a lot of influence and power over yours, he could have destroyed them or making sure you have all the resources -depending on the aspects-.

12H: your dad won’t judge your decisions or you. he’ll be a support. he could have difficulties to put limits in a father-son relationship, you could have felt stressed when you’re seeing how your dad is being bullied by your siblings bc of that attitude. you could have being the one who is protecting them or you’re the more serious/introverted one in the dynamic. or the total opposite: he’s too strict and you had to be careful on how to act. there’s something that happened there… you two could share something obvious, an interest, physical appearance, an adjective, etc. something everyone can point out. also, you could feel a strong or subconscious connection with your dad’s sight of the family.

5H: idk why I have the feeling you didn’t saw your dad for a long time and then you saw him, I’m trying to express that your relationship with him it’s not constant. he could be explosive or impulsive. he could contradict himself so much. he could have had you without planning it/unexpected -you were a surprise for him 🤩-. could be that your parents were young when they had you and etc. that’s why you’re like an experiment 😭 your dad doesn’t know how to approach you and he has a temperament. emotions here are fiery, when each other express their emotions they don’t take a seat and have a chat with a cup of tea, they’ll say how they feel crying and screaming.

6H: your dad could have OCD, no, I’m lying, but he could be really fucked up about order. “thinks have to be like this, why you didn’t let me this at this time?” Or the total opposite, not in the middle. he could get sticker in his routine and if things are not how he planned he get stressed. a perfectionist. he could be strict or conservative. he’s sarcastic, that’s why you could be sarcastic too. he’s hardworking and also could help on campaigns and etc. at some point you could have helped him on working on his health. and you could be the one who end up taking care of him/being the sibling who spends more time with him.

♡ Based on personal experience and what I’ve analyzed in my surroundings.

♡ English is not my first language.

♡ I’m not a profesional astrologer.

Thank youu. baibaiii🫣🫶🏼💋

Do not copy. Please give me credits.

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

I just got out of my psychology class and I kept having thoughts about Leon and how his mind works. Here’s a psychoanalysis on Leon bc I truly do like how his brain works:

TW: mentions of mental illnesses, substances, substance abuse, suicide. (Guys- I am not a medical psychologist or a medical psychiatrist. This is strictly based on my psychology class, take this with a grain of salt.)

Leon suffers from Combat and Violence Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). This type of PTSD (because there’s subcategories) is most often common in veterans and in men.

More often than not, one can tell when someone’s suffering PTSD (flat voice, substance abuse, inability to sleep, change in personality, etc.)

Leon in RE2/RE2R didn’t necessarily show signs of PTSD until after the events took place. Leon was too busy trying to survive that his brain shut off the emotions he was feeling “in the heat of the moment.” He was scared but it was his survival instinct that allowed him (or the player) to move forward. Hence why I think he also suffered from Depression and Acute Stress Disorder (ASD).

ASD is commonly found in patients with PTSD, ASD is kind of like the first stage after a traumatic event took place. PTSD victims often find themselves having frequent panic attacks. I think it would be safe to assume that Leon in RE2/RE2R had several panic attacks during or after Raccoon City. I don’t think he’d go to therapy/psychiatrist/psychologist because in RE4R he stated that he immediately got called to the White House after he survived RC. And this is where I think it got worse.

RE4 and RE4R both portray very distinct Leon characters. One is more “fine” than the other in short words. Leon in RE4og doesn’t necessarily show signs of having mental issues but maybe he’s just good at masking them. Leon in RE4og often finds himself being very witty or very lean back. He’s less serious but I think it’s a coping mechanism. Up to that point in his life, he’s been in very serious situations that I think this is his way of gaining some of that control he lost when the virus first started. His brain is fighting battles of being in control or letting others control him. In this case- the situation is controlling him. He wants to have that sense of individuality and most of the time this is a coping mechanism. To gain back some of the things he’s lost in the process.

In RE4R, however (and I’m going to be very bold with this one), we don’t know much about how he feels. He is flat and his demeanor is distant to an extent. I’ve noticed a few changes to him from when he first started the game to where the player made it halfway. In the beginning of the game (when he’s with the two Spanish cops) he’s similar to RE4og- sarcastic and a little unserious. Which can be guessed as his normal personality. He doesn’t really show how much he’s actually been through with those two strangers. He’s got better things to worry about- he neglects his own issues. When he tries to find Ashley and he sees the zombies again- his PTSD gets triggered and it makes him be able to pull the trigger (aside from the player lol) There are few types of reactions when PTSD gets triggered and I think Leon’s reaction is a bit depressing.

When Leon sees these zombies again, his brain automatically jumps back to the memories of Raccoon City and almost immediately finds himself back in his former self’s shoes. But he doesn’t have time to linger, he forces those thoughts away and keeps going. I don’t think he wants to have time to think about what just happened because he’s often trying to keep his brain occupied “sorry, must’ve slipped” or any other phrase he says makes me believe that he’s just trying to make himself laugh (because believe it or not, laughter really does help with mental issues) or he’s trying to make the situation seem lighter. Or maybe he’s in denial, his brain hasn’t processed that the same thing that happened in RC is happening all over again. And when you’re in denial, you are repressed. Sigmund Freud said that repression is when someone turns something (trauma, thoughts, events, feelings) away. They deliberately choose to cast their thoughts and feelings aside. Leon bottles his emotions, it’s his defense mechanism. He doesn’t smoke (as mentioned in the game) nor does he drink (there’s a Reddit post that perfectly summed it up for me) He knows substances aren’t good for you and the fact that he’s against them makes me believe that he has other ways of dealing with PTSD such as exercise. I’m not saying this just because Leon looks very built, I want to think that maybe half the reason he works out isn’t just for his job. I think it also because it helps him mentally.

Mobility, sleep, and nutrition are the most important things to keep yourself mentally and physically healthy.

I’ll get on to RE6 because in that game, he pulled a 180 imo. RE6 Leon is more empathetic. He cares about the people that could’ve survived. He suffers from survivor’s guilt. After RE4/RE4R, Leon probably became more aware of his struggles and has tried to deal with them. He’s become more human, he’s allowed himself to feel human. He’s still the same serious guy with the flat effect but he’s becoming more open about his thoughts and feelings. I think the game is trying to hint at us that MAYBE he’s getting better. (Guys this is a stretch okay. RE6 is lowkey messy)

Now on to the films (I’ve done the liberty of researching a ‘order’ of when these may have taken place and not by the release date order so you guys won’t get confused):

ID Leon: He’s very compassionate in this one. He has a sense of self righteousness but I know why. He wants to make up for the losses of the people he’s seen die. He wants to fight against the corporation and wants to end the spread (submarine scene when he talks about RC) He wants to make up for what he couldn’t save. (Hence why he didn’t give Claire the chip- he wanted to protect her because he cares for her)

Degeneration Leon: Protection can only go a long way. Leon is more… assertive in his objectives, if you will. He’s back in his RE4 days in other words (any of the two games tbh, this Leon is complex) Leon wants to keep fighting for his cause. Not only is he forced to be a soldier for the government but he also has found a drive. All his pent up PTSD and trauma has shifted into something else. If no one could’ve been the hero then HE’LL be the hero himself, does that make sense?

Damnation Leon: Haha Russia go brr (sorry) Again, he’s become more chill. When he’s with JD, he’s funny but still cautious (bc let’s be honest, JD could’ve still shot his ass) nothing much to comment, I think he’s been consistent since Degeneration.

Vendetta Leon: NOW WE GETTING JUICY. This man- this Leon is the epitome of what a relapse does to you. Leon is seen drinking away his problems. He’s relapsed back into the mentality where his brain is finally processing everything. He’s even tried to attempt suicide- that’s how bad he got. His PTSD, his ASD, depression (bc you can’t tell me he didn’t have depression) it all came back to him and it made him feel shitty. He lost his power over himself, he no longer feels useful. He feels empty and broken. That’s sh he drowns himself in his own sorrows. Because he’s learned that if you drink until you pass out, you don’t dream. He doesn’t sleep- no. He’d rather black out because when you’re in an unconscious state, you don’t dream at all. You’re simply just lying there on the floor with your eyes closed. And that’s the feeling Leon wants to feel. He wants to forget everything for one minute and just calm down. And alcohol does that to you, that’s why people with PTSD become addicted to substances.

DI Leon: homeboy somehow got better (I’ve yet to watch DI lol) but from what I’ve seen, he’s definitely back to his “normal” self. He probably learned that maybe living life is the best thing. That if his attempt would’ve succeeded, then he wouldn’t have been able to live to his fullest. Regret makes people do a lot of things and I think Leon matured and learned.

[silverthehedgehoganalysis]

Here is a list of traits Silver has shown in the games, Sonic Channel and other Sonic Team made content:

Righteous, has a strong sense of justice and is driven to make things right

Kind-hearted, puts other people’s happiness before his own and will drop his mission to help others, is motivated by his desire to protect smiles, wants to use his powers not for himself, but to help others.

Extremely Determined

Optimistic and Hopeful, believes there’s always a chance as long as you don’t give up, inspires hope in the people he works with in Forces, the final story of Sonic 06 and when he helps Elise through her performance anxiety

Pure, has a “sincere, unpretentious and kind” demeanor and wears his heart on his sleeve, this genuineness and purity gives him an “enduring charm” that is one of the biggest things his friends, particularly Blaze, enjoy about him and makes others want to support him

Forthright, is very direct and frank with people and has a straight to the point mentality, is straightforward in his actions and thinking

Earnest and blunt to the point of naivety, expects people to believe and cooperate with him when he says he’s from the future, hides very little and is so honest that he announces himself when attacking Sonic

Not trusting post 06, doesn’t give Sonic a Chaos Emerald until he proves he’s real in Sonic Generations and is the most suspicious of Dodon Pa

Snide and Sarcastic, sneers at Eggman’s theme park in Sonic Colors and has a snotty attitude towards anyone he can one up, remarks “What am I doing?” when going with Amy

Brash, has rude/informal mannerisms and can be abrasive, particularly to people who are not his allies

Juvenile, described as young and immature by his creator Shun Nakamura, this immaturity ties into many aspects of his character as well as his purity but is also the source of his snotty attitude and rude behavior, supposedly he doesn’t like green peppers which is the Japanese equivalent of children not liking broccoli 

Focused, proactive and practical mindset, seen particularly throughout Sonic Forces

Focused on his goals, Does not care what the plan is called in Forces, only that it works and when asked about his favorite race item he says that he likes Jade Ghost because “It lets him disappear and focus on the race”

Inquisitive and proactive, questioned others about how the world was destroyed in the Iblis future his whole life, fought Iblis to try and clear the sky himself, spent most of Team Sonic Racing cracking down on Dodon Pa and Eggman, reads into “Ancient Wisdom” in the good future

Sharp and intuitive, Figures out how to revive Sonic in 06, sees through Eggman Nega's disguises by noticing small details, does successful detective work in Sonic 06 and Team Sonic Racing, intuits Blaze trying to control great powers when seeing them for the first time, has solved various puzzles and mysteries by himself, “knows a lot” according to Sonic in Silver’s Sonic Channel introduction story

Skilled and Crafty, skillfully accomplishes various tasks during his Town Missions in Sonic 06, turns his fight with Sonic into a race to collect Chao in Sonic Rivals 2, Vector refers to him and Blaze as professionals in the Team Vector Nintendo Dream interview, has had jobs as a delivery boy, a figure skater, a “genius” skating coach and a butler

Trains off-screen and makes steady efforts to improve his abilities, seems to be self-taught in his skills 

Sometimes takes everything on himself

Warrior with a warrior mentality, described as a warrior, enjoys fighting and will fight his friends for fun, fought and struggled for half his life in the Iblis future, values bravery and facing things head on, dislikes cowardice and indirect tactics, can endure “pain beyond description” and is undeterred by injuries (Shadow’s infamous kick to the head only made him mad)

Competitive and proud/confident in his abilities, has a smug attitude about his abilities and can get competitive over something as simple as handling Orbot and Cubot, clashes with Blaze the first time(s) they meet because of this

Headstrong and Confrontational, confronts Infinite alone because of this, gets offended when Blaze she calls him “weak” and treats him like an amateur 

Very Emotional, tends to rush in and deal with things too head-on because of the strength of his feelings and start confrontations because he gets heated, his passion drives him forward but this same passion can cause him to be rash as his actions are dominated by his feelings

Hot Tempered and impatient, can be easily angered and gets frustrated or indignant when things don’t go his way, can get annoyed at things that get in the way or impatient with things that aren’t to the point, his sense of justice causes righteous indignation at great injustices, his temper can be quite similar to Blaze’s

Has Aggressive energy in both his demeanor and body language, generally has confident or determined expressions, often makes fists, punches things when he's frustrated and gets up by punching the ground

Can be Ruthless, has resorted to playing possum, sneaking past Soleanna guards, robbing people and killing to accomplish his goals

Courageous to the point of being Reckless, puts other’s safety before his own, instantly reacts to protect those around him when attacked in Sonic Comic, Instantly battle ready when surprised in Generations, fought against Iblis and its monsters from a very young age growing up in an extremely hazardous devastated future, both values bravery and dislikes cowardice, recklessly went off to face Infinite on his own and is noted to not back down even in the face of his mighty power, will sacrifice himself without a second thought if necessary

His way of life inspires others and makes them want to cheer him on, this even extends to real life as the illustration at the top this post inspired everyone in the office to give him a high five that day

Cannot lie but can change the subject

Doesn’t know how to explain/express himself at times

Scratches his head with his index finger when processing his thoughts

Feels joy and anger loudly but is quiet in sadness and contemplation

Gets rowdy, riled up and puts his all into things he’s feeling but is very low and quiet when something is on his mind or he’s feeling down(He’s totally autistic, this is autistic volume)

Has a mischievous side

Like apples, ate apple flavored rations in the Iblis future

Deeply appreciates peace, prosperity and people‘s smiles, beautiful vistas and people living peacefully leave him breathless

His desire for peace is seemingly driven by strong empathy for both the people and environment around him, blue skies make him feel at peace, natural beauty and people living prosperously takes his breath away, desolate or destroyed areas sadden and upset him, he can’t help but smile when he makes others smile and can’t stand to see the suffering in his destroyed futures

Has a very quiet, introspective and empathetic side (he deeply and quietly reflects on the morality of his mission throughout 06 and quietly takes in everything about Elise’s past)

AB blood type meaning that he's dual natured and adaptable based on the situation

Is a Taurus

[simping-on-the-daily]

Some Kind of Angry Beaver

Summary: The Wolverine’s massacre has made you lose everything. Your friends are dead, you’ve left home, and the world’s hatred for mutants grows worse. You promise to yourself you’d have a few words to him if you meet again, and you do, at one of the shady bars where you both grieve your losses.

Notes: Reader is a mutant and was with Wolverine for a brief time, very very brief implications of sub!Logan. Not romantic anymore, and yes the title is from ERB deal with it. Worstie is a lot more sad and pathetic since this is early post!slaughter, gender neutral reader, not beta read we die like this universe’s X-Men, I wrote this in a day and it’s absolutely gonna show

Warnings: Logan killed some of Reader’s friends in his rampage, story is based on grief and death, mutant racism, Logan tries to kill himself but he comes back dw, and a whole lotta swearing

Before you met him, you had no clue what a wolverine was.

You’d barely heard of it, having skipped over it in some animal documentary to focus on more interesting animals, like sharks and alpacas. When you passed by a bar with a few cage fights, you heard the name Wolverine for the first time. When looking at the man’s body, admittedly luscious hair with canines and claws, you had assumed a wolverine was some type of dog or cat, before nailing it down to a wolf. Wolverine, wolf, they just added some more syllables to make a difference.

“It’s a weasel.” The man who you now knew was called Logan answered curtly upon your question, looking away from the bed which smelled of steamy intimacy from last night, and thus, turning away from you, who was on the other side, putting your clothes back on.

“That doesn’t seem very threatening,” You quipped back, putting your shirt on. “The fuck’s a weasel gonna do to the lucky guy?”

Logan gave a quick grunt. “They should be more worried about what I’d do to them.”

“If you can avoid their little collars, that is. Fucking bastards and their dampeners.” You said with a sarcastic sigh. The Senate was trying to make them more commonplace, and though the clapback was fierce, you were still a bit wary.

He gave a quick hmph, and that was that.

You stayed together for a few months. It was unforgettable, to say the least. Watching that man squirm under your touch was an accomplishment for the ages, and the moment you made tears come out of his eyes you did a little victory dance in your brain. You bought him dogtags and things you thought he might’ve liked, while he defended your honor in your ring, beating the shit out of anyone who dared to shittalk you.

“You shouldn’t have, sweetie,” You jokingly answered, upon noticing that his knuckles were still dripping red after passing by a beaten guy carried by his friends, making small comments about how dumb he was. You noticed some scars subtly close in, and turned away, pretending you saw nothing. “His ego can’t take another hit.”

“Can yours?” He answered, and your only response was a pinch of his cheek.

Of course, it didn’t last. Nothing bad happened, you simply just went in other directions. Logan kept hopping between different clubs with cage fights, and you settled in a small town and made a life there. You never forgot how it felt to touch him, but you’d seen him in action. Dude could do just fine.

You got a job, and got your own group of people. Majority of them were human, but like hell if that mattered. You shared good drinks of booze together and you cared for them. Brittney gave birth to a child, and god that kid was the cutest, fattest little fucker you’d ever seen. A few years had passed since you’d met Logan, and by then you were content. Your abilities were accepted, you’d gotten your own little found family, and you comfortably nested yourself in the community.

Brittney and her new fiancé, Ken were going to NYC for a vacation, and trusted the rest of you with their child. For the best, you know now.

“The X-Men are dead. You should be staying here.” Charlie said, crossing his arms to the couple. He wasn’t exaggerating, the X-Men were dead. Their mansion was ransacked and their bodies were fucked. You remember holding in the urge to puke, as the censoring on the news was done horrible, all the guts and gore visible. Jayden didn’t, you remember, running to the toilet and letting out a combination of a vomit and sob.

“We can’t just cancel. I promise, we’ll be safe.” Ken said, though it was obvious he was nervous. “That money can’t just go down the drain, and we’ve shortened it to just two days.”

“The fuck’s the point on going a vacation, then?” You spoke up, eyebrows raised. Brittney looked at me, before back to her now crying baby, probably from all the arguments.

“I have a gun for a reason.” Ken shrugged, and you and Charlie died down. You knew you weren’t gonna win.

“Just….keep Hope safe, alright?” Brittney’s query ended the conversation, as you nodded before giving her a hug. Charlie left the premises, and later you’d see him in the casino, trying to drown out the worry you felt.

You should’ve pushed more. You should’ve tied them to a fucking chair, drugged them with some sleeping pills or whatever. Anything to prevent what happened. But you can’t turn back time, that wasn’t your mutant ability, and now your friends are dead.

So many people were dead.

You spent three days in lockdown. All from some….monster, indiscriminately slaughtering everyone in a path that couldn’t be determined. New York was fucked, Brittney and Ken were fucked. You saw their names on a list of casualties. Jayden wailed for the loss, and you let out a few tears yourself. This shouldn’t have happened, this shouldn’t ever have happened.

The three days ended, but it felt a lot more like an eternity of Hell. Your town wasn’t touched, but you still saw so much blood as you left your home. Nothing changed and yet it all changed. This didn’t feel like home, not anymore.

When the news told you the culprit of this massacre, you couldn’t resist the urge this time. You puked in your toilet, tears running down your face. Your friends were dead to someone who you knew, who’s cheeks you gently pecked. The hands that you once held were used to slaughter Brittney and Ken and so many innocent people. Logan had killed your friends, had killed you in a way.

The bodies were returned, and you cremated the couple at their funeral. You still had some tears to cry, face blank as you stared at their urns. That was your second last day in that town. Everyone hated you now, your mutant powers were despised once more after Logan fucked everything up. No-one looked at you normally anymore. Their gazes were full of hatred and prejudice and pity and god you fucking despised it. With the knowledge that Charlie adopted Hope and Jayden had absolutely run out of tears, you left, wiping your face as the downpour consumed you.

You passed by, traveling across without a goal. You became closely acquainted with the train and bus, and you once more learned to hide your powers, something that you never thought you’d have to do again. Any progress people might’ve been working on towards total acceptance went down the drain, organizations quickly scrambling to make speeches about how ‘one mutant shouldn’t define an entire race’. You would’ve agreed, but the carnage was massive and you still saw dried blood on some walls from the Wolverine’s rampage is you looked closely enough.

After it rained again, you sought refuge in one of the nearby bars. It smelled of shit of booze, and you took a seat near the front.

“Whatcha want?” The bartender asked, gruff in his voice noticeable, and you thought for a second, looking at all the glasses behind him.

“Second heaviest thing you got.” He nodded, and quickly poured some beer in a glass. You had him a note before drinking.

You comfortably fell in the routine, sitting in silence, all the other conversations providing ambiance to your casual misery. Then, like a lightning strike to a tree, it just had to end.

The door opened again. You didn’t care, but when all the conversation stopped, you looked up. You retched upon seeing the fucker’s face, and moved farther away from the door until you were on the opposite end of the counter.

Logan either didn’t notice or didn’t care, sitting at the counter. “Fuck off,” The bartender almost snarled. “We don’t want ya kind here.”

Logan pulled out a few coins. “Not a paying customer?” He spoke, as if he was ignorant to all the shit he pulled just a few weeks ago.

The bartender grunted, pouring him a glass of wine that was obviously cheap and old. The mutant accepted it anyway, taking a long sip. He shouldn’t be enjoying himself, you thought with disdain, he should’ve been rotting in Hell without a drop of drink and no flames to light up a cigar.

The ambiance stopped, no-one wanting to talk while the beast was around. For some fucking reason, you didn’t move from your seat, and so you were just a few meters away from the ex who took so much from you.

After five drinks, you had enough. You got up from your seat and left some change behind as a tip. A more conscious you wouldn’t have tipped someone who was likely a mutant racist, but you weren’t really thinking. You wanted out, you wanted away from the monster, you wanted away from that bloody wolf.

You walked a few steps away from the building when Logan came approaching you. You paused in place, perhaps by the audacity of his actions.

“I’m sorry.”

Your eyes widened, but you gave a small growl, turning them narrowed again. “For what?”

“I wronged you.” You always did need observational skills to become a good tracker.

“Their names,” You shot back with a snarl, “Were Brittney and Ken, and they were heading to New York. They did nothing to you. And you still killed them.”

“I did. I’m sorry.” He repeated, as if that would make it any better.

“I don’t care if you’re sorry!” You yelled out, pointing a finger towards the other mutant as you took a step forward. “You slaughtered my friends you fucking bastard! You lost your family, big whoop, what right does that give you to make mine too, you bloody prick?!”

You had thought about this type of scenario before. You wouldn’t give him a verbal beatdown, no, you were too classy for that. You’d say one sentence that would crush his resolve and leave him astounded as you walked away, knowing that your friends were at peace. But you were drunk and angry and your family was fucked over because of this one man, and so you went on, like a lion going overkill when it finally encountered their prey.

“I wish I never fucking met you! It’d be sooooo easier if you were just some psycho rando, but I fucked you! We slept in the same bed and I kissed you and god I fucking knew you. You were one of the X-Men, you were supposed to save the world, but all you do is make things worse!” You sobbed, dropping your hand to your side as they shook.

“And it’s god’s greatest wish that you die alone and scared, just like your fucking victims, but it’s also god’s little gift that you can’t die! And you just had to in-fucking-flict it upon all of us! All you do is make things worse for everyone, you ruined everyone’s life, you ruined my life, god fucking damnit!” You put your face into your hands and sobbed. You must’ve looked so pathetic, having this breakdown on the road in front of your murderous ex.

“I should’ve tried harder.” You murmured weakly to no-one in particular. “I should’ve stopped them. Shouldn't have relented when Charlie did. Should've done more……” Tears and hands muffled your voice. “But I didn't and now they're fucking dead.”

You finally looked up, and just like you, Logan's face was covered in tears. Good, you thought. Let him suffer.

“Should've been there for them.” You didn't expect him to talk. “Should've gotten off my ass and done something. And now they're ten feet under cuz’ I didn't.”

A stray sob escaped your throat again, looking at him, covered by rain and tears and now the moon was out. “Guess we both fucked up, huh?” You tried to smile, head tilted, with it only just looking broken and fake.

“They'd all be disappointed.” Logan confirmed somberly, as he thought back to Colossus and Professor X and Scott, all too aware of their hypothetical reactions if they knew of his actions.

“The X-Men were supposed to be heroes, weren't they?” You looked up at the stars, and held a hand up like you were trying to catch them. “But you were always the best at what you did, and what you did was never heroic. You told me yourself.” Answering your own question, your hand flopped to the side again. The stars didn't feel so luminescent, not right now.

Logan gave a small grunt, trying to wipe away his tears. “I know. I'll carry it for the rest of my life. It's what I deserve.”

“It's what you deserve.”

You spoke at the same time, before you gave a fake small chuckle. “God, you're fucking horrible.” You paused for a second, letting out another pretend giggle. “Thanks for telling me what a wolverine was, Logan. Cuz’ I know that you’re the fucking worst one.”

You lunged forwards and punched him in the cheek. It hurt like hell, and Logan didn't flinch, but fuck did it feel good.

“Fuck you, Logan. I hope you rot in Hell, you bitchin’ bastard.”

He only nodded, tears still cascading down his face as you stormed away and walked away, just like you did to your home.

You found yourself sitting on a bench, still raining and still wet from your encounter. Your ass was fucking freezing. Maybe you deserved it for being such a bad friend. You wouldn't be here if you had been there for Brittney and Ken. You had a lot of tears in your body, you realized, as you sobbed once more, grieving the loss of everything you once had. God, you hated beavers.

Logan hated himself too. That should’ve made you feel better, but it didn’t. You were still just as empty and sad as you were this morning, just this time you were drenched and drunk. You looked up at the stars again, and though they were still just as dull as they were when you encountered Logan, you still gazed anyway. They were all you had left.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Logan rushed into the dump he called a home, a retch stuck in his throat as he frantically searched. Your words were repeating once more, becoming one with the fucked up chorus that was his mind, mocking him for even considering that you’d want him back. It was a passing thought that he immediately disregarded, but the voices milked it, acting as though he’d been pining over you for years.

He’d never forgotten you, you were important to him. But you moved on, and so did he, and he tried to shoot his shot with Jean. But Jean’s dead, and you weren’t, and you hated him. As you should, he didn’t blame you, he hated himself. And yet it somehow stung.

The cacophony roared with laughter at his turmoil, and he clutched his head, praying they’d get out. He couldn’t handle your voice, he couldn’t handle Jean’s voice he couldn’t handle Colossus’ voice he couldn’t handle Scott’s voice he couldn’t-

Finally, he found it. He snatched the gun that was hidden in the sofa, a desperate last resort who times like these, when they wouldn’t stop. His finger stroked the trigger almost tenderly before putting it to his head.

“You know this isn’t gonna work, right?”

“Bro forgot he has a healing factor. Did all that killing make him braindead or what?”

“You don’t deserve to die. You deserve to live with this for the rest of your life.”

He knew that. He deserved all this pain, but Logan was never the paragon of morality. He was a selfish prick, who ruined everything he touched and yet he was the last one standing. But he wanted the voices to go, he wanted them to stop, and he wanted to stop crying because God it’s just been a dam breaking on his face since you yelled at him.

He was alone, and he was scared. Just like you wanted him to be. He embraced the trigger, and felt tranquil as the surge of bullets went through his brain.

It was only serene for a few minutes, but for Logan, the worst Wolverine who killed so many innocents, who ruined any chances of the world accepting mutants, who drunk so much it got his family killed and still drunk? Even a second of that serenity was a touch of heaven that Logan didn’t deserve.