#idk yes there are behaviors that are like. not great but it’s also like
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#one thing of social interaction online while being autistic is the ever present fear of being treated like a child when your behave#there’s a certain sort of. demeaning/teacher sort of vibe to it#maybe I just get that vibe bc I witnessed and experienced a lot of that in school#it’s the whole. demeaning in a way that is meant to shame while giving the people who are doing the shaming a way to make themselves feel#better bc they are reinforcing a standard of quote unquote normal behavior#it’s a really nasty feeling of shame and it’s one where you quickly learn to just keep your mouth shut#so you don’t tip people off again so you aren’t demeaned like ur a child again#idk yes there are behaviors that are like. not great but it’s also like#damn just bc I don’t experience the joy and whimsy of the world in the same way#doesn’t mean I deserve to be shamed about it#vaguely related bc it’s a memory of shame but I still vividly remember being told as a child#that I was not shy. the teacher laughed about it too#not that im not seven years old I see that it was me having issues#connecting w others. I felt like I didn’t connect well bc I was. the autism#idk the early 00’s of elementary school education in the Midwest was a trip being an autistic girl#I was just thinking about past experiences in fandom. and the desire to connect being undermined by the terror of being shamed#just autistic girly things!!!!!!!!!! I’m dying inside just a little bit!!!!#owen talks#I’ve also been back on gender feelings and I’ve been trying. very hard to slam the lid on that shit
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i'm thinking abt if/once shane becomes more involved in jas's life (trying to do better by her & stuff) that at events her & vincent will tire themselves out & shane will pick jas up (she's sleeping or almost asleep) & make eye contact with jodi or kent holding a sleepy vincent & it's just. silent understanding.
#i think their families would eventually have dinner together so jas & vince get to have play dates more#shane weirdly is in a position where he relates to jodi & kent but also relates to sam#so despite his anti social behavior if it's just them#he's chill & can handle a convo abt whatever#idk?????#i think there'd be more mutual appreciation#like i think jodi is friends with marnie not like GREAT friends but ye#& shane has always been an enigma but then she sees the look in his eyes once he holds eye contact#she understands#kent also understands but it's a different part of him that he understands#sdv#stardew vally#sdv shane#sdv jas#sdv jodi#sdv kent#sdv vincent#ramblings#IDK if this makes sense but#my headcanons
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Cool non-binary pronouns you got in your profile there. It'd be a real shame if you started acting like a man on the internet
#idk if they were afab or amab and frankly it does not matter#they were acting like toxic masculinity was still a-brewing#listen the spectrum of gender is great but you gotta actively work to undo biases inherent in the gender you were primarily socialized in#so talk the talk but also curb the behavior you know#I can do at least 16 hours on identifying and breaking down biases#so if a rando on the internet has an innocuous opinion you disagree with maybe just let it go and don't double down#and ofc ~not all men~ but enough that it's a trend#and yes I do think about my biases and what I post and choose not to post and engage with#and you should too it's good for you#but I'm also very aware of performative activism and performative social media antics#this is my revenge bedtime
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Yan! JJK Men x Reader: You're sick. Literally.
Description: Oh no, you got sick? Poor thing? Luckily the gorgeous man who kidnapped you will take good care of little ol you!
Characters: Satoru, Suguru, Nanami
TW: Mentions of sick things (throwing up, coughing, ya'know sick stuff), Yandere behaviors, Pet names. Reader is a non sorcerer. Suguru didn't defect, still an insane yan though. Nanami's is the darkest.
WC: 3.9k
A/n: Comfort fic for ME. Some little gremlin at my job got me sick. This could be...better? Idk my mind hazy but I couldn't sleep without writing out my little silly thoughts.
Satoru - You'll be smothered to death
You got sick.
Of course, it would happen now, while Satoru was off on one of his endless missions, leaving you to fend for yourself in the pristine prison he called an apartment. He hadn’t been home in days, blissfully clueless to the fact that even swallowing felt like trying to gulp down shards of glass. Your muscles ached, your head throbbed, and every inch of you craved nothing more than a warm drink and a blanket.
Dragging yourself to the kitchen, you held onto a sliver of hope—maybe there was tea or, if you were really lucky, a sad packet of instant ramen. But every cabinet you opened revealed a whole lot of nothing. Great. You checked the fridge next. Also empty, naturally. Your meals were always mysteriously delivered by someone you'd never met while Satoru was away. Maybe they'd bring you soup…or were you destined for another serving of that fancy sushi you could barely stomach in this state?
You almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of complaining about such “luxuries.”
And cooking for yourself? Yeah, right. Satoru had confiscated the knives ages ago, forbidding you from using them unless he was there to watch over you like the lovesick freak he was. You cast a sarcastic, vulgar gesture toward one of the many cameras he’d installed around the apartment. Not that he’d ever actually check the footage, right? …Right?
With a sigh, you shuffled into the bathroom, opening one cabinet after another, desperate for something—anything—that could bring a sliver of relief. A cough drop, even a crusty, ancient one, would’ve been a miracle right now. But no, it seemed that the only things Satoru deemed essential were shea butters, body scrubs, and various impractical “essentials.” Your throat burned, each swallow a new brand of torture, and frustration prickled behind your eyes.
Before you knew it, you’d sunk to the floor, tears slipping down your cheeks as exhaustion took over. You tried to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, but it came out as more of a weak wheeze. Trapped, sick, and utterly alone, you let yourself drift off on the cold tiles, surrounded by empty cabinets and an even emptier feeling gnawing at your chest.
You weren’t sure when you’d fallen asleep, but the faint sound of the front door clicking open stirred you from your feverish dreams. Footsteps echoed through the apartment, far too energetic to belong to anyone but him. You groaned softly, squinting against the bright light as Satoru’s familiar voice filtered through the fog of your headache.
“Yoo-hoo! I’m home, sweet cheeks! Did you miss me?”
You tried to sit up, but the ache in your muscles protested, leaving you slumped against the wall. Before you could answer, Satoru poked his head into the bathroom, his usual grin plastered on his face—though it faltered as his blue eyes landed on you. In an instant, he was crouched at your side, his hands hovering around you as if he couldn’t decide where to start.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he tutted, his grin morphing into a mock pout. “Did you get all pathetic while I was gone?” His fingers found your forehead, and he clicked his tongue, his eyes widening as he felt the heat radiating from your skin. “You’re burning up! Were you planning to bake yourself in here like a cute little fever muffin? And why didn’t you ping me?”
Ah, yes. The pager. Right. Because apparently, pagers were still a thing in Satoru’s world.
You groaned, trying to turn your face away from his intense stare. “Satoru… I was fine.”
“Fine?” he echoed, clearly amused. “Yeah, sure, if by ‘fine’ you mean pathetically slumped on the bathroom floor.” Without warning, he swept you into his arms, ignoring your weak protests as he carried you to the bedroom. He laid you down with the same exaggerated care he reserved for something truly precious, pulling the soft white sheets over your shivering frame.
“Do you realize,” he said, half-joking, half-scolding, “how irresponsible it was to get sick while I was gone? Honestly, you should know better.” He bundled the blankets around you so tightly that you could barely wiggle a finger. “You don’t have permission to be sick without me around.”
“Permission?” you mumbled, your voice muffled, eyes half-lidded as the fever continued to fog up your mind.
“Exactly!” He ruffled your hair with that chipper enthusiasm. “If I’d been here, I would’ve made sure you ate properly. And I would’ve personally spoon-fed you medicine—doesn't that sound delightful?” His eyes sparkled with a teasing glint, though there was something unsettlingly serious beneath it.
“Are you going to… let me breathe in here?” you managed to ask, noting just how thoroughly he’d cocooned you.
“Oh, no no,” he chuckled, settling onto the edge of the bed with an exaggerated sigh of satisfaction. “You’re not escaping my care now. Not after letting yourself get sick while I was gone.” He leaned in close, his face inches from yours, that unnervingly charming smile back in place. “I’m on nurse duty, and you’re my sole patient. Lucky you, huh?”
You whined as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. Sure, he was sweet, even doting at times. But he was also, without a doubt, a little bit of a freak. He left, claiming he’d be back with “supplies” that you could only imagine were absurdly over the top.
An hour later, he returned, brandishing a spoon and a cup of soup, and propped you up as if you were some doll. “Now, open up,” he cooed, lifting the spoon with exaggerated gentleness. “You’re going to eat every bite, and then we’re binging every Studio Ghibli movie you’ve never seen. You love those, right? You mentioned it on our first date.” His eyes flashed, a brief, intense look that was almost… possessive, before softening again. “And if I hear even a hint of a cough, I might just smother you in blankets until you forget what a cold feels like.”
You tried to roll your eyes, but the warmth of the soup soothed your throat, and despite the fever still clawing at you, you managed a faint smile. Satoru kept feeding you, chattering on about his mission, each story punctuated with exaggerated gestures that made the soup tremble on the spoon. His presence was overwhelming, but, for once, you didn’t mind.
“See?” he said proudly when you’d finished, grinning down at you like a smug nurse. “All you need is a little Gojo love, and you’re practically healed already.”
He moved to start up Porco Rosso, something you’d never seen but that he insisted you’d adore.
But as he fussed over you, you caught a flicker of worry in his playful eyes—a soft, fleeting look, as though he truly believed you were the most fragile thing in his world. And despite everything, despite the suffocating way he hovered, you felt a strange sense of comfort. Perhaps in a way you were growing insane day by day. He’d stay by your side, even if you were only here because he’d pulled you into his world and held on so tightly, refusing to let go, because losing you was something he couldn’t bear. He couldn't lose someone so important to him.
Suguru - Just let him take care of you, yeah?
Your muscles ached, and your eyes felt swollen, as though you’d cried them shut. Everything hurt, every shiver that wracked your body twisting the ache deeper. Cold sweat clung to you, dampening the sheets that Suguru had so carefully arranged around you. You were caught between chills and feverish heat, unable to reconcile how you could be shivering and sweating all at once.
He’d left early this morning after a long, restless night, one that left its marks painted across your skin. The ache wasn’t entirely unfamiliar, but you could still feel each bruise, each bite—a reminder of his hands, his mouth, his possessive need to leave you claimed. Maybe that was why your muscles were so sore, why each breath felt like it only barely filled your lungs.
You swallowed, the pain flaring in your throat. You stared up at the wooden beams of the traditional ceiling, another piece of this house he’d locked you in—for your own good, as he liked to remind you. Once, you’d tried to tell him you needed space, that the relationship was too much, that he was too much. Now, the only “space” you had was this house, shared with him, furnished to his tastes. The traditional Japanese garden beyond the window, with its perfectly placed stones and swaying bamboo, felt like a prison as much as it did a picturesque scene out of a movie.
You drifted off to the rhythmic patter of rain against the shoji screens, wondering how he'd react when he saw you like this. Unease filled you.
A sound brought you back, barely louder than the rain—a soft, padded footfall just beyond the sliding door. A familiar twinge of anxiety stirred in your stomach, the kind you had yet to shake whenever he approached. The door slid open with practiced care, his silhouette filling the frame before stepping inside.
"My love?" Suguru's voice was gentle, almost reverent, as he moved toward you, closing the distance with graceful precision. His violet eyes swept over you, dark with concern, though a small smile tugged at his lips, as though he found a strange beauty in your frailty.
“You’re not feeling well, are you?” he murmured, his voice softening further as he knelt beside you. A sick smile on his lips as if he enjoyed this. One of his hands brushed a damp strand of hair from your forehead, his touch tender, and intimate. “You poor thing… it’s no wonder. You’ve been keeping everything bottled up. All those silly little thoughts and worries…”
He pressed a warm cloth to your forehead, his fingers gentle, almost soothing. Yet there was something in his touch—a possessiveness, a kind of pride in seeing you like this, dependent on his care, trapped under his gaze.
“You know,” he whispered, his voice low and sweet as he continued to smooth back your hair, “you don’t have to hold back with me. I’ll take care of everything—everything you could ever need. I’ll make sure you never have to worry about a single thing. Not your health, not your happiness… not even your freedom.” His smile softened as his hand moved to cradle your cheek, thumb stroking softly, possessively. “All you have to do is trust me, my love.”
A faint shiver went through you, whether from the fever or his touch, you couldn’t be sure. You tried to turn your face away, but his hand held you firmly, coaxing your gaze back to him. “Rest, darling,” he murmured, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ll stay by your side. I’ll make sure you’re safe, warm. Isn’t that what you need?”
His eyes, gentle yet held something so dark in those violet irises, held a depth of obsession that left no room for refusal, and despite the fever clouding your mind, you could feel it—the certainty that no matter how many walls you tried to build, Suguru would tear them down, piece by piece, until all you had was him.
The last thing you heard as sleep overtook you was his voice, murmuring soft reassurances, as he brushed his lips over your forehead.
Suguru adjusted his hold, wrapping the blanket more snugly around you as he cradled you closer, pressing a few soft kisses to the top of your head. You felt his fingers trail down your arm, gentle yet something dark lurked under such a touch, as though even your feverish skin was something precious to him.
He shifted, leaving the bed momentarily, though his gaze never wavered from you, his eyes flickering with a hint of unease at the brief separation. He returned a moment later, a bowl of rice porridge.
Something he must have prepared while you were half-asleep. “I made this just for you. Something gentle, soothing… I didn’t add anything too spicy; I know your throat’s sore.”
He carefully lifted the spoon to your lips, watching intently as you sipped with half-lidded hazy eyes. “Good girl,” he encouraged softly, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Eat up. I’ll make sure you do. I’ll stay right here, feeding you every bite if that’s what it takes.”
You shifted slightly, trying to sit up more reaching for the spoon, but Suguru’s hand pressed gently against your shoulder, holding you down. “Ah, ah, don’t try to get up, my love,” he chided, a faintly scolding edge to his tone. “You’re in no condition to move around.” He gave a soft sigh, though there was a smile in his eyes as he leaned closer, “Just rest. Let me dote on you as much as you deserve. I don’t mind taking care of every little thing.”
He continued to feed you with small, measured bites, murmuring reassurances and encouragements with each spoonful, as though the simple act of eating was an accomplishment he was proud of. “That’s it,” he whispered. “You’re doing so well. Just a little more, love… There’s no need to be shy.”
As you finished, he wiped your mouth gently, his gaze softening as he watched you with a near-adoring smile. “There,” he said, his tone full of satisfaction as if he had achieved something profound just by keeping you fed. He pulled the blankets back up, tucking them so tightly around you that it was almost suffocating, as though he feared even a single draft could harm you.
With a sudden look of inspiration, he began fussing over the room itself, adjusting the windows, pulling the shoji screens shut just a bit tighter. “Can’t have any chills sneaking in, can we?” he said, more to himself than you. “You need warmth, peace… not a hint of discomfort.” He glanced back at you with a pleased smile, clearly contented by the thought of keeping every single detail in perfect order.
Finally, he returned to your side, pulling you back into his arms, and settling you against his chest again. “There we go,” he murmured, his fingers combing carefully through your hair, untangling every knot with precise, gentle strokes. “You don’t need to worry about anything—not about what you’ll eat, not about what you’ll wear, not even about how you’ll get up tomorrow. I’ll handle every little thing.”
You tried to shift, but his hold only tightened, his warmth both comforting and stifling. “Just relax, my love,” he crooned, his lips brushing your temple. “All you have to do is lie here and be good for me, let me keep you safe. I’ll take care of every breath you take if I have to.”
A faint pang of claustrophobia crept in as he held you, but his soothing, rhythmic touch on your hair made it hard to resist sinking back against him. His fingers trailed down your spine, rubbing gentle, possessive circles as he murmured sweet nothings, his voice a soft, dark lullaby.
“You’re everything to me,” he whispered, his tone dipping into something almost dangerous, though his touch remained gentle. “There’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do to keep you safe, keep you here with me.” He stroked your cheek, his gaze intense as he watched you, his face softening as he took in every detail of your weakened state. “So don’t even think about leaving, whether that be in life or death.”
In his embrace, you felt yourself drifting once more, lulled by the warmth, by the touch that was both smothering and tender. And as you lulled to sleep, you couldn’t shake the feeling that with every little act of care, every gentle touch, Suguru was binding you tighter and tighter, locking you in a world where you would always be his to protect—his, and only his.
Nanami - Just to be sure
You awoke abruptly in the night, a sickening wave rising in your stomach. You slipped from his tight grip as quietly as you could, pressing a hand over your mouth as you stumbled to the bathroom, desperate to make it in time. The door shut behind you with a muffled slam, and you collapsed in front of the toilet, gripping the cold porcelain as your body heaved, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. You didn't care whether your captor heard you or not as you continued to drain every ounce of you. You slumped over the seat, letting your cheek rest against your arm as you tried to steady yourself.
But then came the soft, deliberate click of the lock turning. Your heart plummeted as his shadow filled the doorway. Nanami’s gaze was heavy, his sigh almost… indulgent, as if he’d expected this. You couldn’t even bring yourself to meet his eyes.
"Rough night?" he murmured, his tone deceptively soft. In his hand, you heard the faint rustling of cardboard being opened. Medicine, perhaps? You flinched, a prickle of fear clawing up your spine, as your eyes met the cardboard box. "Here," he said, stepping forward and extending a small, pink test between his fingers. "Take this for me.”
The sight of the pregnancy test twisted your stomach again, but this time with a different kind of nausea. You swallowed hard, feeling your hands tremble as you stared at the item he held out so calmly, that familiar, unsettling smile ghosting over his lips.
“Please,” he continued, voice coaxing, his smile a bit too unsettling. “It’s the holidays, after all. Good news would mean so much to me.” His eyes gleamed with a strange intensity, one that made your skin crawl. “Ino and Yuji would love to hear about our little addition.”
Your hands shook as you took the test from his hands, too frightened to refuse, too exhausted to protest. You didn’t dare push him further. You knew what lengths he would go to. You were lucky he wasn't forcing you to piss on it on the spot. The lines between his kindness and his control had long since blurred, and you knew the cost of defiance.
“Could you… step out?” you whispered, your voice barely above a rasp. His expression tightened, a flicker of annoyance clouding his face before he relented, stepping back, but only leaving the door open a sliver.
“I won’t look,” he promised, though his voice carried that familiar edge. “But I’ll be right here in case you… need me.”
His words hung ominously in the silence, and even with him just outside, you felt his presence pressing in on you, felt the weight of his watchful attention. Fucking freak. You forced yourself to go through with it, nerves fraying with each second, each stolen glance you imagined him taking through the door. Finally, the result appeared: one line. Negative.
When you opened the door, he stood waiting, his face unreadable, his gaze fixed. He didn’t say a word, simply handed you another test, and then another, his lips thinning further with each negative result.
A dark shadow crossed his face as he let out a slow, disappointed sigh. “Must just be a stomach bug, then,” he murmured, his tone clipped, tinged with quiet frustration and disappointment. He reached for you, his touch firm as he wrapped an arm around you, guiding you to the shower, reaching to lift the hem of your nightgown. "Let's get you bathed, shall we? My little wife." he said softly.
The words hung heavy in the air—my little wife. There was a possessiveness in his tone, one that sent a fresh wave of dread coursing through you. His hands, steady and unrelenting, guided the straps of your nightgown over your shoulders and down your arms, letting it fall to the floor in a soft whisper of fabric. You felt his gaze travel over you, inspecting you as if to memorize every detail, every inch of skin he considered his.
He turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature with his usual calm precision. The warm water began to fill the silence, though it did nothing to wash away the creeping chill that had settled in your bones. His hand remained on your shoulder, a steadying presence that felt more like a shackle than a comfort.
“Step in,” he murmured, his voice soft, almost coaxing, as though this were some intimate, shared moment between husband and wife, as though you’d chosen to be here.
You stepped under the water, feeling its warmth spread over you, but Nanami didn’t move away. Instead, he reached for a cloth, lathering it with soap, his movements deliberate, almost ritualistic. He ran the cloth over your shoulder, then down your arm. You could feel the weight of his gaze, his attention never wavering.
“My little wife,” he murmured again, the words slipping from his lips with unsettling ease. “You’re too fragile. You need someone to look after you… how do expect us to build a family, if you don't let me take care of you?”
His touch moved to your back, the cloth trailing down your spine. Every motion was painstakingly slow, as if he was savoring the moment, drawing it out. His fingers pressed just a little too firmly, a subtle reminder of the control he held, his grip tightening slightly whenever he sensed the faintest hint of resistance.
“You’ve been so stubborn,” he continued, his voice a quiet murmur just above the sound of the water. “I’ve had to go to such lengths to make sure you’re safe, to make sure you understand that this is where you belong. With me.”
You swallowed, the words dying in your throat as you felt the cloth glide down your arm again, his movements lingering, methodical. He was talking as if he truly believed this—his delusion woven so deeply into his mind that he couldn’t see it for what it was.
As he finished, he reached to turn off the water, his hand lingering on the knob for a moment before he looked back at you, his smile too kind for comfort. “I’ll dry you off,” he said, almost tenderly, reaching for a thick towel off the counter and wrapping it around your shoulders.
He guided you out of the shower, his hold firm as he began patting your skin dry with a soft towel. His hand brushed your cheek, wiping away a stray droplet, his gaze softening in a way that would’ve seemed caring if not for the dark gleam beneath it.
“You’re everything to me,” he whispered, his voice low and sickeningly sweet.
His words sent a shiver down your spine, but before you could pull away, he held you tighter, pressing his lips softly to your forehead, a mockingly gentle gesture that only served to deepen your dread.
“Let’s get you back to bed, my little wife,” he murmured, his tone soft and full of sickening love that made your skin crawl. He guided you out of the bathroom, his hand firm on the small of your back, and with every step, you could feel the walls of your world closing in, tighter and tighter, until there was no room left for escape.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#yandere geto suguru#soft yandere#yandere geto x reader#yandere gojo#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere gojo x reader#yandere gojo satoru#yandere jjk#yandere nanami x reader#yandere nanami kento#yandere nanami
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ermm ermmm ,,,,, , cannibal!reader has like a sad past right (i saw u mention they were abused hence the obsession w approval) ,, well okay what if the hotel residents found out? like ... idk one of reader’s parents shows up at the hotel ... idk , honestly i just really love how you write cannibal reader theyre wildly silly
Crazy for you!
--- cannibal chef m.list
a/n: AWWW THANK YOU SO MUCHHH they/she is indeed very silly, i most of my inspo from myself and other fans of alastor and their reactions lmao. ive been stuck on one fanfic for days i gave up today and words just flowed for cannibal chef reader, i can't--. also plsplspls if you find any of this triggering pls turn back, i want all of you to be in a safe space.
warnings: abusive mother, shaming choice of clothing, weight shaming, typical asian behavior of 'be a doctor or lawyer' but rudeness level maxed out, being called ungrateful, useless etcetc DISCLAIMER: Any scenarios are entirely fictional and have no direct relation to any person and taken from behaviours I see, read or hear from. Thank you. word count: 1292
You, Alastor, Niffty, Husk, Angel and Sir Pentious got together and were enjoying a lazy weekend just lounging around the parlor just enjoying each other's company and talking amongst each other. The lot of them fitting on the couch and the floor. You stood beside Alastor sitting on a chair by himself drinking his coffee indulging himself in a casual conversation.
You all turn your heads when the door opens expecting to see Vaggie and Charlie, preparing to greet them and get them to join you all. However, they stop in themselves from doing so when they see the both of them touring a person in.
Your constant smile drops at the sight of her. You immediately recognize the face and voice making you slowly and quietly hid behind the chair Alastor making yourself small as to not catch their attention. Alastor, of course, notices this action and raises his eyebrow.
"And this is Angel and Sir Pentious our other guest, Niffty our cleaning maid and Husk our bartender. Alastor here is the host of the hotel, he's the who supported all our endeavors!" Charlie states.
"Oh! Isn't that the Radio Demon? Dear it is him! I'm a big fan of yours," your mother mooches at Alastor earning a displeased static sound from him when she abruptly shook his hand without his permission.
"Alastor, where's (y/n)? Aren't they always with you?" Charlie asks making you cringe as you cautiously walk towards them.
"(Y/n)? Is that you?" your mother asks in disbelief before enveloping you in a hug, which made you sick to your stomach. "Oh gosh! It's been years! Look at you! You look so skanky with that clothing. You also look like you've gained weight. I told you not to go to culinary school and be a doctor or lawyer instead. You look so fat now, probably from all that meat you're eating. You should've gone vegan look how your Aunt Karen slimmed down, she's been going around and teaching, crazy bitch. Anyway, take my luggage to my room, I need to talk to everyone here. Good? Great."
You tried to get a word in with dejected eyes but lose your voice when she gives you harsh glare. You sigh and take her bags and answered, "Yes mother."
Without you noticing, all the others went deathly silent as they watch you look so sad. Your almost permanent smile disappeared from your face making them surprised and worried. You always smiled around them, mimicking Alastor's grin that was plastered on your face. Sure, they've seen you drop the smile when you were separated with Alastor before but eventually you opened up to them and was seen constantly socializing and smiling around them making them feel relieved being the youngest of all of them, but they never seen you look so sad before. Coupled with the backhanded comments made by your mother, they couldn't help but feel hostile.
Indeed, you were crazy and a bit of a monster, but you were the sweetest most thoughtful thing that ever happened to them. Any occasion was prepared by you ranging from the Hotel's Anniversary, Birthdays and even as miniscule as just a mission accomplished on their rehabilitation program. This encouraged everyone to do better with how much faith you put in them. (That and your cooking is so out of this world that even Angel would dial his drug intake from a 15 to a 13 for a treat.)
So, when your sweet and genuine smile faded, they glared at the perpetrator that made you react so drastically. However, in respect for Charlie they held their tongue first.
"Sooo, what's your relationship with (y/n)?" Charlie asks trying to be polite despite the tense atmosphere.
"Oh, her? She's my daughter. Ungrateful little wench, I took care of her her whole life and the thanks I get is her running away home. Next thing I know she's in a boarding school for taking culinary classes. Where'd that bitch even get that money, she should've paid everything he owed to us first! Her parents! Say, can you make me a drink Whiskers? Just thinking of that bitch makes my head hurt. Make it snappy," she orders around slumping onto a vacant seat making herself very at home.
"Don't call me Whiskers, only my friends get to call me that. And I ain't taking shit from you," Husker replies turning his back at her.
She gasps dramatically and yells, "You call this hospitality?!"
She stands up trying to reach Husk, Angel stands in between them along with Pentious and Niffty before a black tendril shoots out from the ground wrapping around her.
"This is where I draw the line," Vaggie growls pointing her spear at your mother.
"What? You actually like that girl? Pft, what the fuck's that all about. She's ungrateful and good for nothing. You actually like someone as useless as her?" your mother laughs at the protective group, her eyes widen as she sees Charlie change into her demon form.
Alastor gently pushes her behind him stopping her in her tracks. He says, "I'll handle this. This obviously concerns my closest companion so this will fall into my hands."
Your mother scrutinizes him finding his tone and gesture quite odd then her eyes lighten up in recognition. She laughs at him and yells, "You can't be serious! You like that--"
She gets cut off as the tendril wraps around her mouth and drags you in his shadow, ceasing her muffled screams. As soon as she disappears, you come down finding all of them but your mom.
"Where's my mom?"
"Sheeee changed her mind! Yeah! She told us that she had something to do," Charlie lies between her teeth with an anxious look in her eyes making Vaggie elbow her despite her doing the same.
"Oh, I see," you say still not smiling, "Will she come back? Her things are still here."
"Nah. She ain't comin' back, sweet cheeks. She's got better shit to do apparently and wanted us to drop off her stuff on an address," Angel casually lies beckoning her to sit with them petting your head after.
Husk nudges Pentious making him confused for a while before getting the message, answering, " Y-yes! I will do it right now. Eggbois! Take the woman's things outside the hotel!"
While the little eggs tottered to do their master's bidding your eyes slowly light up but not fully their yet.
"Look kid, we won't prod into your business but know if you ever need someone to talk to, you've got a bartender right here," Husk jokes with a grin holding onto his suspenders in a pose making you slightly giggle.
"Hey, hey you got us too!" Angel, Charlie, Niffty and Pentious (that got back from telling them to throw the old bat's shit into the garbage) joined in earning a smile from Vaggie and Alastor.
After you felt better, you called in for the day and left to your rooms. After escorting Alastor to his room he snags you inside then comes in close before petting your head tenderly.
You look at him surprised, although without your normal heart eyes that you give him, confused at his actions.
He brushes his fingers against your cheek electrifying you and states, "Whenever you get into trouble, tell me. I'll handle it myself, after all you are mine."
Your eyes shape into hearts, legs turning into jelly, heart beating faster and faster by the millisecond, trying to comprehend the weight of his words and engraving them into your brain.
"Understood?" he asks pleased with your reaction.
"Yes, Sir~" you breathed out finding yourself flushed red, breath hot and heavily.
"Good," he smiles devilishly.
(I'll leave the ending as ambiguous 😌)
#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin angel dust#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin lucifer#hazbin husk#hazbin charlie#hazbin vaggie#alastor x reader#alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor the radio demon#radio demon#hazbin hotel alastor#cannibal chef reader#harleehazbinfic
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Persona 5 fandom, I beg of you, please stop with the casual (and likely very unintentional) ableism. This is less about one specific person and an overall trend I see whenever people post bad takes on Akechi. Going "Akechi is a murderous psychopath" is harmful because it spreads an unfair stigma about psychopathy and mental illness in general as this "crazy" and violent thing, which has been normalized for far too long. And also, it's just not true. Anyone who thinks Akechi is this "remorseless psycho" (keeping in mind this use of the term isn't great) simply does not have more than a surface level reading of the character. His missable November texts make it abundantly clear that he is not happy with what he's doing under Shido. Which, granted, HIGHLY missable text. You have to basically delay Sae's Palace and not go in at all until mid-November. Engine room, 12/24, multiple times in third sem... his remorse is there, it's just subtle or not presented as shaking and crying and begging for forgiveness, because he's a guarded mess of a person (with deep psychological scars, make no mistake- this is not a healthy kid). But even without those texts, there are plenty of times where these feelings are conveyed. His sad reaction when Morgana explains changes of heart (if he had known sooner), his regrets in the engine room and lamentations about Joker's freedom, and I basically did a whole meta post breaking down the important visual and spoken symbolism to Akechi's character that gets boiled down to "hehehe crazy murder boy". Hate or dislike him? Cool, sure, but the normalization in fandom communities of just throwing around mental illness related terms in a derogatory fashion... really isn't good? Like even if Akechi was literally a psychopath or sociopath or had npd or other specific mental illnesses, that doesn't inherently make him evil, nor does it erase his victimhood, which is so integral to his role in the story.
He killed people, yes. That's not really up for debate, and yes he gets feral and over the top in third sem... but that's just over the top edgelord behavior directed at Shadows and focusing only on that ignores everything else he says and does in third sem, yet it happens so much (even though other Phantom Thieves, like Haru, have fun fighting Shadows too). Are we just gonna ignore all the times he's cool, collected, and reasonable in third sem to throw around this antiquated and hurtful idea of what the word "psychopath" means? ._. Just... blarg. I've made many Akechi rambles/rants, but the normalization of ableism surrounding him is not great? I think it's mostly down to ignorance and lack of media literacy, but yeah. Plus it's kinda fucked up how little weight is placed on Shido for teaching him how to do shutdowns (his own admission), the fact that the moment Akechi revealed himself to Shido, he was screwed, because this is a man who took a bump on the head as a reason to ruin Joker's life.
Idk. I think it's not just a P5 fandom trend, even, because it's so normalized the same way people think OCD is this funny quirky mental condition because of shows like Monk when it's an actual disability that can deeply affect people in horrible ways... Mental health awareness is good is all I'm saying.
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Devotion.
Lewis Hamilton x BLACK!FEM!Reader
WARNINGS: DARK THEMES, cult behavior, cult leader!Lewis, Idolizing, blasphemy(kinda?? idk girl), mentions of religion(no specifics), SMUT, unprotected (wrap it before ya smack it), mind broken reader, stockholm syndrome (not written in but kinda implied), breeding k*nk, short.
SUMMARY: Lewis chooses you.
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Was he really as sadistic as the papers said? How could he be when he was so sweet to me?
He nursed me back to health when iIl, when I was at my lowest, he lifted me in spirit. He gave me hope when I had none. He gave me something to believe in. He would never hurt me, he wouldn’t violently touch a hair on my head. He was consistently perfect. He was what all men should have been.
Dressed in black gowns, all of my sisters stood around with roses propped in their hands, veils on their heads and envy in their eyes. I’ve been there before. Envious of any woman that was next to him. Now I no longer remember what that felt like.
“You may kiss the bride”
I heard from beside me. My heart instantly swoll ten times it’s size. He took me by the hand and brought me closer to him before lifting the white veil over my head. His hand grazed my cheek and his lips hovered over mine. I could physically feel his breath over me. It confirmed that he was indeed real. He wasn’t just a vessel or embodiment of the purest form of a prophet, he was now also my partner. I was one step closer to heaven.
Hours later after dragged out sessions of meditation and eating food served on fine china, I found myself finally feeling solace.
I use to deeply craved to be with him at all times, not just to be in the same room to read or pray. Now he was touching me. Breathing the same air as me, taking my breath away with each stroke of his fingers. He told me he was getting me ready, his lips hovering above mine. He breathed in every sigh I made and the thought of my oxygen entering his lungs made me grateful.
He told me he would break me before making me whole again. He reminded me the entire time that this was just the beginning before I truly became the woman I was always supposed to be. His.
Yes, I was one of the many women, but I was the one. He told me.
“My beautiful, beautiful girl”
I kneeled before him, him only on one knee like when he proposed. A puddle of my own release was beneath me with his fingers still deep inside, pressing against the spongy part of my walls until I came again, my body slumping against his. My mouth had been wide open, unable to close for longer than a few seconds before another moan was exiting. Drool dripped from the sides of my mouth and he easily wiped it clean with his tongue like nothing, tasting the wine he offered earlier on me.
I was like that for what felt like hours until he allowed me to taste him. My mouth had never been on him like this before, before I couldn’t remember if he had ever touched me at all.
My jaw ached and my throat was sore, but he kept pushing and I took it just for the approval. I hear quiet sighs, moans that were almost whimpers above me, him looking down at the sight. His eyes were darker than before, pink lips parted to whisper out my name every time i’d take him completely, not coming up until I physically gagged and was forced to pull back.
When I disconnected from him there were strings of my spit still attached to him and he took the liberty to tap the tip of himself against my swollen lips, watching me flinch with the first few pops.
We transitioned for the third time that night and I began to wonder if the other women got the same treatment. He couldn’t be this great for all of them, I had to be special.
“You’re doing so good”
He breathed into my neck, arms wrapped around the front of my body as he rutted his hips into me. It felt as if I was on my knees all night, and I was tired, but he told me if I prayed with him on my knees, then everything else sacred needed to be done that way too.
His hand squeezed at the front of my throat and his other caressed up and down the side of my ribcage, tracing the tattoo of his name written into my skin with his fingers. I had his name symbols of him on multiple parts of my body, each place he had kissed tonight.
“You listen so much better than any of the other ones. That’s why I picked you. That’s why you’re my favorite”
He confessed into my ear, sharp teeth grazing the shell of it before they pressed onto the skin of my neck, his thrusts becoming more erratic.
I could feel the knocking of his tip inside of my stomach somehow, the spasms of my walls supplying him with just the amount of grip he needed to finish, the grip he claimed to have been thinking of since laying eyes on me.
My breathing hitched, then sped up and synched to each pound, pathetic whines leaving my mouth on impact. Every sensation felt so much more real now, I could feel everything. The wet skin of his chest pressed firmly against my back, the slapping of his hips against my ass which I was sure was slightly bruised by now, the scratching of his low cut nails against my curves.
Even if he broke skin, I knew not to fret. He’d lick me up again if I asked.
He lets me go and allows my weak body to fall flat on his bed, his hips still never stuttering as he follows after me, dipping his hips low while simultaneously lifting mine to meet him pound for pound.
My time was now. Now was the moment for me to prove that I was truly his, that I was ready to be saved for the rest of my mortal life, that I was in fact the best partner and the most devoted. That’s what he needed, what he deserved. Devotion.
With each question he managed to ask while somehow keeping his pace, I nod with no hesitation whatsoever as his hand slips down under and in between my wet thighs to rub at my sensitive bud, my body jerking so intensely that he slipped out of me mid stroke and his free hand wasted no time to help put himself back in and build up his momentum again.
“Would you give me a child, darling? Would you like to play a part in what greatness is to come?”
He already had babies. 10 of them and counting. But he asked me to carry the one he chose, and I was no one to tell him no and starve his desire.
✮✮✮✮
💌~ did yall like it? yes, no? 🥴 also i know yall TIRED of the short fics 😭 sorryyy lmfao
#henneseyhoe#black fanfic writer#black fanfiction#black!reader#black reader#black!fem!reader#masterlist#black!oc#lewis hamilton au#lewis hamilton fanfics#lewis hamilton one shot#lewis hamilton fanfiction#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton fic#lewis hamilton smut#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton x black reader#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x black!oc#lewis hamilton x black!reader#lewis hamilton x yn#black writer#black stories#x black fem reader#black fanfic#smut masterlist#oc smut#smutty smut smut#dark themes
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❛ HYBE BOY ❜
🧸🩰 i’m a lucky fella, i’ve just got to tell her that i love her endlessly
summary - quinn hughes, captain of the Vancouver Canucks, is dating model, y/n y/l/n and hard launches his relationship leaving people shocked at how beautiful she is and making his brothers question how he managed to pull her.
pairing - model!f!reader x quinn hughes
side note - miranda kerr will be used as a faceclaim for the ig posts. but like she’s so beautiful omgggg 😻😻 *careless whisper starts playing* anyways uni is going so well. my professors are so chill like literally it’s amazing. i barely know anyone here (yes after a whole month here, i only know like 6 people). but uni is amazing my roommate is the best and it’s js a great experience!!
✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫
_quinnhughes
liked by lhughes_06, user01, trevorzegras, and 81,920 others
_quinnhughes i’ll keep this one, thanks. 😃
tagged: @/y/n.y/l/n
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colecaufield found in the wild 🐗🕵️
_quinnhughes ❌
user81 Y/N Y/L/N DATING A HOCKEY PLAYER??!! MY WORLDS ARE COLLIDING 🥲🥲
jackhughes 👁️🌊🫵
user17 jack what is this??! 😭😭
user38 he’s weird
user82 he js built diff
trevorzegras quinnifer got (no) game??!
_quinnhughes at least i have a girl where’s yours *looks around* oh i forgot 🥲
trevorzegras you’re my girl @/_quinnhughes don’t worry 😘
jackhughes AYE!!
_quinnhughes @/jackhughes @/y/n.y/l/n idk what he’s talking abt 😥
y/n.y/l/n trev wishes 😔😔
user93 NOOOO😭!!!!
user72 sad day for us quinn girlies 😔
user57 trevor and quinn are umm…
y/n.y/l/n weird and not okay i know and also very much in love with each other???
user57 yes
y/n.y/l/n have you fixed the bed yet??
_quinnhughes no..
lhughes_06 the beds broken?? oh 😐
y/n.y/l/n he jumped on it to hard and made a leg break
jackhughes YO WHAT
_quinnhughes @/jackhughes in my defense she was chasing me
y/n.y/l/n @/_quinnhughes you caused that to happen when YOU THREW A PILLOW AT ME
_quinnhughes @/y/n.y/l/n IM SORRY TAKE ME BACK
y/n.y/l/n @/_quinnhughes YOURE NEXT TO ME STUPID
trevorzegras ☕️☕️
user92 SHES SO PRETTY OMGGG 💕💕
user29 new wag alert!!!
user69 girlie so fine 😻😻
bradytkachuk emma said to stop forcing her to say you guys are together
ehtkachuk yea bc she’s MY wife not YOUR gf
y/n.y/l/n @/_quinnhughes ^^
_quinnhughes @/bradytkachuk @/ehtkachuk @/y/n.y/l/n why are you all after me 😔😔
colemcward mama y papa? mama. papa.
y/n.y/l/n my son is all alone 😭😭
_quinnhughes he’ll live
colemcward @/_quinnhughes no i won’t
lhughes_06 @/y/n.y/l/n why is he your son and not me???
y/n.y/l/n @/lhughes_06 bc you’re the annoying little brother i wished i had growing up
elblue6 my beautiful daughter 💕💕 and her interesting bf
_quinnhughes i’m your biological son??!
y/n.y/l/n quinny shh 🤫 ALSO MAMA EL 😘😘♥️
user48 parents so cute 🥰🥰
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y/n and quinn had been together in michigan for a week now and his brothers were yet to meet her. she had met his parents a couple months before and they’ve loved her ever since. ellen treated her as if she were her own daughter. they would talk about quinn and his behavior and quinn would be in the back, getting offended. jim was like her second father. he was protective of her and was his little girl even if they weren’t blood related.
the couple were on the couch, all cozy and cuddling when they heard a car pull up outside. quinn looked down at y/n who had her eyes closed, trying to go asleep after being out that day. “babe,” quinn heard a mumble come from the girl, “they’re here.” she grumbled in response.
quinn had told her last night that they would arrive at the lake house tomorrow evening. she was half asleep when he told her so all he got from her was an “okay,” before he began to hear soft snores come from her mouth.
“quinny, let me sleep please,” y/n whispered, “i’ll meet them later.”
quinn just smiled and leaned down to kiss her temple. he rested his head on top of hers and closed his eyes, hoping to sleep as well.
unfortunately, in this household, a good nights sleep was never a thing. that was proven as the front door suddenly burst open which quinn jumped slightly at the action and caused y/n to stir in her sleep, letting out a small whine.
“honey, we’re home!” an, oh, so familiar voice announced.
quinn turned his head to the side and peaked over the couch. as soon as he saw his brothers, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes at their antics and go back to trying to go to sleep.
he heard chattering and the padding of footsteps get closer, indicating they were coming his way. he began to think of a way of how he would get up without waking up y/n. there was no way.
quinn reopened his eyes and saw two figures standing in front of him. “what the fuck?” he questioned and his brothers laughed at his face.
“i see you’ve been having fun.” luke said and his eyes traveled down to y/n’s sleeping figure and he raised an eyebrow at quinn. “like i knew you had a girlfriend but she’s way out of your league.”
quinn let out a fake chuckle. “get the hell out and let us sleep.” he commented and wrapped his arms around y/n, his arm covering her face from jack and luke.
“but we just got here.” jack pointed out and luke murmured in agreement.
“then go up to your rooms.”
“but we want to meet your girlfriend.” luke stated with a fake pout.
quinn glared at the pair. “she’s sleeping so leave,” he stated and closed his eyes, protecting y/n from their view.
“we’re coming back when you’re both wide awake.” jack pointed a finger at quinn before he and quinn went to the front to get their bags and head upstairs.
quinn shook his head and went back to sleep, awaiting the moment of when y/n wakes up.
the couple had surprisingly slept for an hour and a half. it surprised quinn since he knew his brothers and the amount of noise they made whenever one of them were sleeping.
y/n had begun to wake as she had begun to squirm in quinn’s hold. he let out a groan and held her closer to his body, her squirming subsiding. “q, let go.” she mumbled into his chest. he held her tight. “quinn.”
“go to sleep, princess.” quinn whispered, his eyes still closed.
y/n started to squirm once again. “no, i have to meet your brothers as i said before.” she really wanted to meet luke and jack but with quinn’s hold keeping her restrained, it was impossible.
“they can wait.”
“no we can’t.”
quinn snapped his head towards the voice and y/n lifted her head and looked towards the boy. “why are you everywhere luke?”
luke shrugged, “i don’t know,” he sat at the end of the couch, “i just am.”
quinn rolled his eyes and looked down at y/n. “well you’ve met luke,” he told her.
“and the other?”
“i have a name.” jack.
y/n turned towards the boy, “yeah i know. sorry jack.”
jack shrugged and sat next to luke who gave jack a look. “what?” luke stared at him for a second before using all his force to push jack off. he fell with a thud and quinn, luke, and y/n laughed. “asshole.”
“man whore.”
jack looked up at luke. he got up within a second before he pounced onto luke. the two began to fight, jokingly, of course. jack had an arm wrapped around luke who let out a scream. “get off of me.” luke managed to get out despite jack’s arm suffocating him. luke continuously slapped jack’s arm in an effort for his older brother to let go.
“no.” the two continued to fight and quinn and y/n just stayed there laughing at the two.
“well you’ve met thing 1 and thing 2.” quinn said as he looked down at y/n. “i don’t know how they haven’t killed each other in jersey yet.”
y/n looked up at him. “you have a wonderful family.”
“aren’t we just lovely?” luke asked as he wriggled under jack’s hold. “also one more question,” y/n and quinn looked at him, “did quinn force you to get with him?”
jack’s head perked up at this. “oh yeah, did he?” he let go of luke as he turned towards his older brother and his girlfriend.
y/n only chuckled and quinn gave them a death stare. “no, i didn’t. she simply fell in love with me.”
jack and luke looked at each other. suddenly, the two bursted out laughing. both quinn and y/n were confused. they had a look on there face as the younger pair continued laughing. “what?”
“oh, we’re sorry but how is it that a girl like her, take this in a good way, would fall in love with a guy like you?” jack said and luke was still too busy laughing.
quinn looked at them, offended, “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“she’s beautiful! and you’re just..you.” luke exclaimed. “like let’s be real here.”
y/n turned to them, “i didn’t fall in love with him because of his looks, i fell in love with him because of his personality,” she looked towards quinn before looking back at the younger brothers, “although sometimes he’s a little interesting.”
“what do you mean interesting?”
“a wet cat.”
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i fucking hate this so much like actually wtff 😭😭 anyways here’s my monthly post and hopefully some of you enjoy it. uni is my new home and umm it’s great!! now my roommate and my friends are making go to a frat tmrw so uhh hopefully it goes well (ik it won’t) wish me luck 🤞
#quinn hughes#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes x reader#nhl imagine#vancover canucks#nhl#nhl hockey#hockey#jack hughes#luke hughes#isa’s works 🦭
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Hii! Could you do some Mr.Compress headcanons pls? Tysmm! 💗
HCS OF HIM AS YOUR BOYFRIEND ⸻ atsuhiro sako / mr compress
INCLUDES — gn! reader, fluff, headcannons, drabbles/one shots WARNINGS — reader is implied to be part of the lov/lives together with the
main masterlist — mha masterlist ༊*·˚
he lovess bragging about you to the other members.
literally will not shut up!!
atsuhiro leaned back in his chair, a smug smile on his lips as he sipped his drink. across from him, sat twice who looked like he was being held hostage. "you wouldn't believe the day i've had," atsuhiro began, his eyes sparkling. "y/n cooked for me today! it was so remarkable and exquisite! they made this-" "listen man," twice interrupted, trying to put on a pleasant expression. "i'm really happy for you and i love that you enjoy your time with y/n! but..how long are you planning to keep talking about them? it's been like almost 4 hours."
dates with him are always unique and memorable. private magic shows, picnics in scenic spots or romantic candle lit dinners in secret places.
a HUGE gift giver!
he will go all out! oh you were eyeing a pair of cute shoes today? he stealthily compressed it and presented it to you proudly. or maybe you had to reluctantly leave a cute giant teddy bear behind at that one shop...only to find out that the marble atsuhiro left on your desk was actually the teddy bear!
yeah he's technically stealing them instead of buying but its the thought that counts! (he is a villian after all, what can you expect?)
he's not afraid to show you his love openly.
expect grand declarations of love, like surprise dates or writing you countless romantic letters as if he were a lovesick teenager.
the other lov members are sick and jealous of you two.
he always respects your personal space and boundaries and makes sure you don't get overwhelmed by his dramatic personality.
as much as he is confident and flashy in public, he's incredibly affectionate and sweet in private.
late night cuddle sessions while you two talk for hours on end, comfortable in each other's arms. honestly, that's his favorite part of the day.
he can be a bit possessive, but not in an oppressive way.
usually more dramatic and pouty when he's jealous, making the situation more silly than serious.
in the dim glow of your room, atsuhiro sulked dramatically on the edge of your bed. you were completely engrossed in your book, sitting with your back pressed against the headboard of your bed. "do you know," atsuhiro began, letting out a melodramatic sigh, "how dreadfully overlooked and unimportant i feel at this moment?" you glanced up, an eyebrow raised. "oh really? and what is that supposed to mean?". atsuhiro shifted, leaning forward with an exaggerated pout. "well, it's not everyday one finds themselves overshadowed by a book of all things." you giggled softly, setting the book aside. "aww are you jealous of a book?" "jealous?" he scoffed, "whatever made you think such a thing? i simply can't bear to see my amazing presence overshadowed by..pages. that's all!" "alright, oh great one, i apologize for this disastrous behavior of mine. please forgive me" you reply, matching his tone playfully. his pout softened into a smile, the dramatic flair melting into warmth. "well, perhaps if you could indulge me with a bit more attention, i may consider forgiving you." "yes yes, my attention is now all yours." you reply, wrapping your arms around him as you place a soft kiss on the top of his head.
NOTE — omg i can finally make posts with the asks!! it used to glitch for some reason before when id try to make longer posts with it 😭. anyways i kinda giggled while writing this ugh im so delusional 🤭🤭. also added two drabbles/one shots (idk what to call it) just becauseee. sorry if this might seem a bit ooc, i referred solely to google to get an idea of his personality because honestly i dont rmb shit of what he said or did in the anime 🧍.
©loveriotss — all rights reserved to me. please don’t try to copy/steal my work. please do not use any of my ideas/translate my work without my permission.
#loveriotss#anime#mha#bnha#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#mr compress#sako atsuhiro#mr compress x reader#gn reader#x gn reader#female reader#x female reader#male reader#x male reader#fluff#headcannons#dating headcanons#drabbles#one shot#mha fic#bnha fic
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Hey if you're looking for Hotch requests, what about Hotch dealing with a crush on a non-bau sunshine reader when he's still sad after the divorce/Foyet but he's so confused by his feelings because it's been so long that he doesn't know what's going on??
Like if it's case related, maybe he thinks reader is a suspect because why else would he be so on edge around her and it's just so painfully obvious to everyone else. Idk if that makes sense but I just think Hotch being so out of touch with his emotions despite being a profiler would be funny lol
Feel free to adapt and make it your own!! Thanks!!
Thanks for your request! I hope it lives up to your expectation!
You were the best damn bartender in Quantico, Virginia. At least, that's what you thought to yourself. You made work fun. You worked in a club environment so if you wore something scandalous, flirted with the customers a bit, you were sure to bring in a hefty tip at the end of the night.
But, you loved the hustle and bustle of it. You loved the interactions, loved singing along to the bands or the good music. You loved having conversations with the locals, loved celebrating parties for kids turning 21, people getting married, or hell, people getting divorced.
Then you met who you swore is your soulmate. Something in you stilled when you were bartending. You never froze up at your job. You were good at what you do. But seeing him walk through that door, looking all handsome in a suit, he took your breath away. You watched how he interracted with the bouncer.
You watched him show his badge to your best friend. FBI. An average Joe wouldn't just waltz into your bar, you knew he was a sophisticated man.
But when he locked eyes with you, you felt like the bar had heated up 100 degrees. Making his way over to you, you were trying to calm down. What had you feeling like this?
"Hi, I'm Agent Hotchner with the Behavioral Analysis Unit for the FBI. It's my understanding from the gentleman at the front that you are the lead bartender?"
You finished making your drink for one of the locals and asked your partner to manage the bar. Luckily it was early evening and the college kids had about another hour before they started flooding in so you knew you'd be okay leaving her by herself.
"Yes, I'm Y/n Y/L/N. It's nice to meet you. How can I help you?"
You shook his hand, and you swore you both held it for longer than you both intended.
All I could think was that she was beautiful. No, no, I can't think like that. My wife, ex-wife was brutally murdered a little over a year ago. Something's different talking to her, to-Y/n. Something I haven't felt in a while but I don't know what it is.
She's a bartender. I hear she's a damn good one. Maybe that's why she's about to be the suspect in a string of murders. Men have been killed shortly after they leave this bar. Traces of posion have come back on the tox screen. Bartenders have access to the drinks and alcohol before they serve, y/n's the perfect suspect.
But she's beautiful, and I haven't seen her stop smiling at all. She has a gorgeous smile. She'd be the sunshine on the rainiest days for the men that have been murdered. Before I know it, my thoughts and feelings consumed me, I'm still holding her hand. I could feel Dave's eyes burning a hole into me.
"Have you heard about the three men murdered around town?"
"Yeah, I have. It's very unfortunate. They were great men. At least to me. They tipped well and always had friendly conversations. They also stood up for me if some men coming in here for the first time were getting a little handsy with me."
Oh how I wished I could be the one to make sure no one got handsy with her. Wait, what am I saying? She's a suspect, she doesn't know it, but she is.
"How were they killed?"
Agent Hotchner's partner spoke up to answer your question.
"They were poisoned."
Ugh, these poor men. Had to die a slow pain, they didn't deserve it. They deserved justice now.
"We just wanted to come in to see if anything unusual has happened lately."
"I've seen a lot of crime shows with my ex-boyfriends before. You're really trying to see if I did it. Which I didn't. I don't think I have the heart to kill anyone. I broke up with my last ex because he hunted and I couldn't bare the thought of killing animals."
Of course you broke up with your ex because of that. But I have a job to do and I have to investigate further. Plenty of killers have lied straight to my face before.
"We'll be in touch Ms. Y/l/n, thank you for your time."
You smiled and shook their hands one last time before you went back to working your shift. Something about Aaron caught my eye. Maybe it's the way he was blushing like a school boy. You're not sure, but he was handsome.
Just when Aaron walked into the bar, you smiled at him, offering him a drink.
"Agent Hotchner, it's good to see you again."
Your smile never waivered. Maybe you would shoot your shot with him.
I can't believe I have to do this. Arrest someone this pretty. Arrest this girl who Rossi thinks I have feelings for. What? Feelings? That's an intense word, but I have to arrest her.
"Unfortunately I'm here to place you under arrest."
I watched all the color drain from her face. I watched her smile fall so fast. But it had to be her. Rossi and the team wasn't so sure, but I have a gut feeling it's her. Of course with it being my team, they weren't going to stop me. I took her sunshine away.
"Agent Hotchner, I, I didn't do anything."
Your manager saw what was going on, he was like your work dad. He took care of you like his daughter, despite him having sons, he treated you like his princess. You heard him say say, "Y/n, I'm getting you a lawyer, do not speak. I know you didn't do this. But I'll meet you where they're taking you."
You smiled back at him, tears filling your eyes. You wanted to make everyone happy, you never wanted to hurt anyone. How are you being arrested? You didn't do anything wrong.
Your ride back in Aaron's SUV was silent. How could you think he was your soulmate? Your soulmate would never arrest you. But you were still feeling something, you couldn't explain it.
I keep looking in the rearview mirror at her. I had to trust my gut. She poisioned those men. But why do I feel so guilty arresting her. From the time we had met her, been surveillencing her, up until I placed the handcuffs on her, she had smiled. Everyone spoke highly of her. I took away her sunshine. I did that.
As you walked into an interrogation room, Aaron sat you down in the seat, then took off your hand cuffs, handcuffing one hand to the table instead.
"We'll wait for your lawyer, do you need anything?"
"No."
You couldn't even look at him. How could her. You told him you didn't do it.
As I walked out, I was greeted with Penelope. "Sir, she has nothing on her record, not even a speeding ticket. I've looked through her social media posts and everyone spoke so highly of her. Friends were making special post to thank her for being a great friend. She took care of everyone. Sir, I-I know I'm not an agent, but I just can't believe it's her."
Penelope was cut off by my phone ringing, picking it up after viewing the caller I.D.
Morgan said, "Hotch, we got the wrong girl. It's Y/n's bartending partner. I just watcher her slip something into this guy's drink. I'm bringing her in, we can cut Y/n loose. You can be happy now. Y/n's not a killer. What that gut feeling is, is your feelings that you like her Hotch. You haven't felt that since Haley. I know it's been 20 years, but trust me man. Y/n is something special, according to the track record she has. She's the opposite of a killer. She's just the type of sunshine that you and Jack need in your life."
Aaron walked in and said, "I'm sorry, there has been a huge mistake. You are free to go. It was the other bartender you worked with.
"What? There's no way. She's amazing at what she does."
Aaron shook her head and said, "One of my agents was in the bar watching the entire time, he was undercover. He watched her slip something in another man's drink."
"Oh. Well, I'm glad you got the right killer. If, if you don't mind, can one of your agents give me a ride home? I don't have my car, obviously."
You didn't know how to feel. You knew you didn't do anything, but was Agent Hotchner always going to have a doubt in his mind that you were a killer?
You got in his car, this time sitting in the front seat. A storm was coming in, you enjoyed the rain and thunder, it calmed you. You two rode in silence, when he dropped you of at your apartment, he walked you up.
When you opened your door, you turned around to thank him, instead that didn't come out.
"I told you I didn't do it, ya know?"
"I know. I know. I'm sorry. I. There's something about you, y/n. I thought you were a suspect, but you should've never been one."
As your eyes were red and filled with tears, you looked at the man who you thought was your soulmate, instead, he had ruined you. Yes, you two didn't date, yes, you didn't hook up, but there was something there.
"Well then why the hell did you do this, Aaron? Why arrest me?"
"My ex-wife passed away a year ago. I haven't had feelings for anyone in nearly 20 years. My feelings for you confused me. I didn't know what I was feeling. I didn't know what these feelings were because I've been so out of touch with them. And it took me a minute to realize that these feelings are because I didn't think you were a killer, I thought you were beautiful. I think you're beautiful. But that gut feeling was that I think. I think I've found my soulmate."
As she stepped closer to me, I watched the sunshine fill her eyes again, her smile creeping up her face. God, was she beautiful and amazing, and from her friend's testimonies who I interviewed, she was a down right amazing person. Just the absolute sunshine to be around.
You were going to kiss Aaron. You were glad he figured out his feelings. This was going to be the start of something new. You didn't know what happened to his ex, you'd find out someday. You took the chance. You placed your hands on Aaron's hips and leaned in to kiss him. You were so happy that Aaron felt the same way. How did you know this? He placed his hands on your face and kissed you back like you were the only sunshine he'd ever see again.
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner x female reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner angst#aaron hotchner fluff
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Hiya 👋🏻
It’s not really a kinktober request, but maybe you’ll consider doing it? No pressure though))
Ajaf era James, where he was drinking a lot. He understands that that affects him and turns him into a monster. He’s afraid he’s going to hurt reader, but he can’t break up with her for her safety, he loves her too much. So he comes up with stupid plan of making her break up with him because of his behavior? So he starts to undermine her efforts, e.g. the meals she cooks “could have been better”; makes fun of her simple 9-5 job , saying that’s she lucky she can have a relaxed job cause he’s earning most of the money and covering the bills. Although she’s hurt, she is staying as she loves him and thinks it’s the alcohol talking. James, realizing his plan doesn’t work, makes the final move: after they have sex one evening, he tells her that groupies do a much better job. That’s too much for her to take so she leaves him.
Unfortunately, after break up he feels even worse. Lars is worried so he interrogates him, and drunken James confesses. So Lars finds reader and locks her in the studio with James for them to reconcile (can we have smut here)?
Few weeks later when they start recording black album, James plays her a song (which will become nothing else matters), saying that it’s his way of telling everyone how much she means to him?
I’m sorry I can’t write short asks 🥲🥲🥹🥹
You are a great writer so I really hope this will become a story 🙏🏻
hihi!
and omg its here. took me 9 days to write it lmao but yeah
i cant explain how much I loved this idea pls marry me annon
also ~~~ means POV change (yes there is James and reader pov)
this fic has legit everything so I hope y'all enjoy it bc I busted my ass on it
some parts may be confusing idk
anyways
word count: 10623
warnings: mentions of achohol/drugs, death is mentioned, toxic relationship, break up, angst, smut, fluff, I'm prob forgetting smth
OR SO I THOUGHT (1989)
It had been a rough couple months with James. I felt determined to help him with his only worsening alcoholism, though he only continued to shut me out. I could feel the guilt when he was around, but it didn't make him stop. I tried, I really did, encouraging him to talk to me, to help me help him.
It was the same sad scene every night. James would come home, probably around midnight, and I couldn't sleep without him next to me, so I was up, all those hours, wondering as I tossed and turned as to where he might be. All I knew is I was in for a scary time when he got back, but I eventually grew tough skin to deal with this. Understood that this wasn't safe for me, or him, and I stressed that so, so much to him, but James never understood. Well, he never told me he did. Maybe there was more going on in his heart I never knew about. But, of course, I could never discover as he would always close himself off so much.
It was another day where the cycle would repeat. I woke up at three am to the sound of James stumbling in, mumbling something under his breath before he plopped down on the bed beside me, and I knew well enough to hold my tongue, to not provoke him. I pretended I was asleep, which he believed, trying, or at least I think he was trying, to snuggly up next to me, but he had his back to me. His arms weren't around me. Maybe that's all I yearn for now, to be loved and held.
Once I could finally go back to sleep, I was awoken not much later by the sound of my blaring alarm. It was seven am, time to get ready for work. James is a heavy sleeper, he never woke up from my alarms, though I always rushed to turn them off, just in case they would wake him. Slipping out of bed with a groan, I observed his sprawled out body, his shoes still on. I'm glad he made it to the bed this night, as others he would end up on the couch, or in his car, or somewhere I had no idea of.
I pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, like a mother caring for her ill son on a school day. I slipped off his shoes, trying to get him more comfortable. I scurried towards the closet to grab my work clothes for the day before getting changed in the bathroom and rummaging through our medicine cabinet, finding some pain killers and then getting him a cold glass of water, leaving the items on our bedside table. I paused to watch over him as he slept, his slow, steady breaths that rose and fell from his chest. I loved him too much to change this lifestyle. I loved every part of him, and if this was part of him, then so be it. I'll help him get better. He loves every part of me, no matter what, right?
Or so I thought.
I slipped on my heels, walking into our messy kitchen, the sink filled with unwashed dishes James was supposed to do. But, he isn't well, so I must do them for him. After washing the dishes, I brewed coffee, poured myself a cup and left some for him and began to make breakfast. James had been off lately, different to how he already was off, but that slowly became part of our normal, so one new change did not stick out too much, but this one did. I don't know what it is. He just felt… lifeless, cold, I guess. I decided to make one of his favorite breakfast meals, a nice, warm and fluffy stack of pancakes with eggs and bacon, cooked just the way he liked it. I spent extra time trying to make it the best I had. I knew they would probably be cold by the time he woke up, but hopefully he'd appreciate my effort. I ate some eggs before scrambling for a notepad, getting a pen to write him a sweet good morning note, explaining I was at work, when I'd be home, how much I loved him, and where the other meds were if he needed them. I wrote these notes almost daily, but this one I made longer and more love filled. I figured he would want my love.
Or so I thought.
I came home around six pm, the evening traffic being worse than usual. Instead of seeing James' car out of the driveway and the house dark, he was still home. The soft sound of the TV buzzing was easy to hear as I unlocked the door, walking in to see him on the couch, leaning against the couch arm and holding his head up with his hand. He was too engrossed in whatever he was watching to nice me walk in, so I tried to have him notice my presence.
“Im back, Jamie,” I said softly to not startle him, my voice filled with love as I moved to sit next to him, he looked over at me, like a confused puppy. “How are you feeling?” I asked, gently stroking his back, though he moved from my touch.
“Oh, hi. Yeah, I'm fine. Busy right now, yeah?” He mumbled as a response as he resumed watching TV once more, brushing me off with his simple, cold words. I knew I had to respect his space and not probe at him, so I just nodded with a sigh and got up, slipping off my shoes and setting my bags down,
“Are you hungry?” I asked, digging through the fridge to get things to make dinner. He didn't answer. “James, are you hungry? I can make dinner,” I offered again, noticing the cleared plate that I had made him for breakfast, the note missing. I assumed he threw it away, just like the others. I never saw them in the trash cans, but after everything piles up, you can just assume. I heard James sigh from the couch, “Uh, yeah, sure, whatever. Breakfast was cold, so I threw most of it away anyways,” He admitted, and I felt a small ache in my heart. I thought he liked the dish since there was none left on his plate, but clearly he proved me different. Why I even put effort in these things, I don't know. THats a lie, I do. I love him, and want him to know it, to feel it. I should’ve been doing this as part of my own insecurities, but to make sure he knows I'm there for him, always.
I thought of what to make for dinner, seeing if he had eaten anything since breakfast, only finding empty beer bottles and a half eaten bag of chips. It was probably only the alcohol making him act like this. I decided to make steak with potatoes, something he normally liked and said I made pretty well. It was easy to make, and I know it was one of his favorites I made him, but normally I would wait for a bigger step in life, like celebrating something about the band, or something in my career, but I knew he deserved it still.
I finished after 45 minutes, preparing the plate to be gorgeous, something I wish I could hear from his lips for once. But, he loved me. I know he thinks I'm gorgeous, he wouldn't have to tell me. Right?
“Jamie, the food's ready, I made steak,” I said warmly with a smile, setting a dinner table for us. I didn't get a response, just a grunt as he stood from the couch and walked his near empty bottle of beer, finishing it off and grabbing another from the fridge. I sat at the table, waiting for him to come and join me. His eyes landed on the plate, pulling out the chair to sit down. I couldn't read his emotions, he didn't look too happy, but he didn't look mad. He just looked.. plain. James grabbed his fork and began to eat, the metal scraping against the porcelain plate, waiting for his nod of approval. It never came. He didn't talk, but not in a way like he was mad. He just didn't speak. But he didn't need to, he didn't need to say the things I knew already. I took a breath and began to eat, and it might've been one of the best I had cooked in awhile. Perfect tenderness, juiciness, seasoning, and cooked perfectly, something you could get at a restaurant, now in our home.
“What do you think, baby? I think it's pretty good, no?” I inquired, seeking the validation I craved from him. He just shrugged.
“It's fine, I guess. It could've been better.”
It shouldn't have hurt. It really shouldn't. He just didn't like the dinner I cooked. The dinner I poured my time into. The dinner I made was special. Special for him. But, what did I know? I doubt he meant it. That's why it definitely shouldn't have hurt. He was drinking. ITs just the alcohol making him act like this. He would never say something like that to me. Why did tears prick at my eyes. Why did it actually hurt?
“Oh, uhm…. I'm sorry, I'll do better next time, do you want me to make you something else..?” I choked out, fighting back my tears.
“No, don't waste your time making something mediocre, yeah?” James insisted, insulting me bitterly once again.
I took a shaky breath, another sting to my heart. Hes. Drunk. This can't be what he means, right?
Or so I thought.
“Alright, uh, do you wanna cuddle on the couch..? We can watch anything you want? Or not watch anything, just sit together.” I offered again, pleading to get love from my partner.
“I was probably gonna go to bed. You mind cleaning up?” He pushed me away again, and every word stung. I want him to see me, to notice me, just to love me. But I reminded myself again and again, he's drunk, he doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean it. I'm just being sensitive and pathetic. Maybe it's just my hormones.
I nodded, forcing a smile, “Sure, yeah, go ahead and go to bed, I'll clean up and join you in a bit, ok?” I informed him and he just nodded and got up, walking to the bedroom, still carrying his battle with him. My eyes stung, and once he was out of sight, I felt tears streak my face, but I continued to fight them away. I quickly got up to clear James’ and my own plate, then cleaning the kitchen, washing everything with great care to keep it tidy.
I came into the bedroom, James half asleep under the sheets. His hair was astray as he slept near the edge, his limbs tight together. The now empty beer bottle sat on the nightstand, another reminder of James’ habits. I glanced around before getting changed into my sleep clothes, a nice little night dress James had gotten me for Valentines Day earlier that year. It was nice and pink with some fluffy pieces at the bottom and lace dancing across it. It flowed nicely and hugged my body in the right places, going down to a bit above my knees. It had some other pieces, like stockings and a garter. In reality, it was more so lingerie than a bed set. But, it was one of James’ favorites for me to wear. Maybe this would make him open up more, or just show me the love I'm craving. I crawled in beside him, though I doubt he noticed the weight accompanying him, trying to cuddle closer, pressing myself against his back.
“Jamie?” I asked softly, kissing the back of his head.
“Hm.” James answered in a sleepy tone, barely aware of my presence.
“You doing ok? You've been acting differently…” I kept a quiet tone, my hands gently running down his arms and back as I pondered on what may be hurting him so much.
He took a deep and large breath, sighing, “Yeah, I'm fine… why do you ask..?” James mumbled in response.
“Nothing, you just seem off, I guess,” I rushed out. I didn't want to upset him, but he just seemed so soft and sweet, something I hadn't seen from him awhile.
“Oh, well, alright then… love you..” He mumbled out, slowly succumbing to sleep after saying the words I knew were true.
Or so I thought.
The office today was exhausting. Absurdly exhausting. And infuriating. A stuck up and snotty boss whos full of himself ordering me around to do his mundane dirty work, my co workers giving me side glances of judgment for my more rushed than normal appearance, not having as much time this morning as I had to help James with yet another hangover, getting him to the bathroom in time before he painted our bed green in vomit, making him some foods to keep him comfortable and having to buy more pain killers, my 3rd trip this month, all before heading to work. All I wanted was to come home, sleep, relax, and be held by the love of my life.
As simple as an office job 9-5 may seem, how it is not. No one else wants to do their own work, always needing some kind of assistance, and of course, I none the wiser, agree to help them.
It was another late evening with heavy traffic, not allowing me to come home until seven, again. I had stopped at the market, grabbing food and other supplies we were running low on. And more beer.
The door to the house was locked, something that had been happening more and more as I came home, only growing worries on James' worsening habits, the idea of drugs coming to mind, but I tried to shake it from my head, just wanting a nice time at home.
I unlocked the door, the house quiet except for the soft strum of a guitar in James’ mini studio, which was just an extra bedroom we had turned into a spot for him to store his instruments and for his practeing. We hoped one day for it to become a nursery, a room for our future child.
I followed the music, the half open door allowing me to peek at James, hunched over one of his explorers, fiddling with the strings as he danced around the fretboard with his talented fingers. I smiled at the sweet sight, slowly entering the room.
“Whatcha working on?” I asked, announcing my arrival home. James looked up at me, at first a smile on his face, but he quickly dropped it. His actions only confused me further.
“Uhm, not much, just… a couple riffs and stuff for the new album..” He answered, still picking at the strings with something unreadable in his eyes.
I nodded, smiling at him, “It sounds good, I'm excited to hear it,” I responded before speaking again, “Work was so exhausting today, I don't know how I put up with it anymore,” I said with a laughy sigh, trying to lighten the statement.
James just shrugged. “I mean, I don't really see how a nine to five can really be that tiring,” He disputed, but his tone sounded unsure, shaky like how it did when we first met. But there was a force, an anger of some kind.
I was even more lost with his shift in attitude, “Well, what do you mean? You don't work one, you wouldn't know,” I argued back with more aggression than I meant.
“Yeah, I don't work one. Your job is light and relaxing feather work compared to the shit I do. You are out doing twelve hours a day for months on end at a studio, being out for a year just to tour and shit, you don't make anything working that job, I'm the one paying the bills with my money.” James spat, cold and bitter. His words rung in my ears, repeating each syllable like a painful stab. My brain scrambled for reasons to understand his reaction and response to my complaint of work.
James' piercing blue eyes still starred up and me, my mouth agape in shock. Why would he act like this? He loved me. He just told me he did the other week before we went to bed. I don't know what I'm doing wrong. What is wrong in his life that I don't know about, that he wont tell me about.
My eyes scanned the room, searching for anything that might explain this behavior of his. Truly, anything that would help explain such a swift and sudden change in his mood, but deep down ZI knew, I was just looking for bottles, cans, cups, glasses, anything that would contain the fizzy and bitter liquid he loved. The only thing I could find was a half empty bottle, freshly opened next to the chair he sat in. That's it, that's why he's acting like this. He's just drunk. He doesn't mean it. He doesn't mean it.
Or so I thought.
Even with my new found reasoning, his words still hurt a great amount, the pain struggling to leave. A simple insult, just telling me how I don't work as hard as him, that my job isn't as crucial as his. I took a breath, trying to control and reign in my emotions before I could meltdown in front of him for such a stupid reason. Drunken words, not filled or backed by any true thoughts. Right?
But they do say drunk words are sober thoughts.
“I- well,” I tried to speak, but I couldn't come up with the words. What would I say? I didn't want to make him any more upset than he seemed to be, but I didn't want to submit to him so easily, especially after such disrespect. But I knew better. I don't lash out, I keep him happy. We will work this out together, we have to.
“I'm just gonna go to bed,” I muttered under my breath, fighting back tears that needed to spill out, James rude comments only adding fuel to the fire that had been burning in me all day. Not a fire of anger, passion or desire, but a fire of hurt. Once I shut the bedroom door behind me silently, I broke. The bottle shattered, and my tears overflowed my face, covering my mouth as I cried, trying to calm myself down as I got ready for bed at such an early hour, even forgetting to make James something for dinner.
It was my day off, a relaxing Saturday I could use to have some me time, as James was gonna be out with the band all day as the brainstormed for the new album, which was still taking its baby steps into production, nowhere near any concept for songs yet. At Least that I knew of.
James had been really tense this week, and I had tried everything to get him to relax and cheer up. Taking him out to his favorite restaurants after I came home, making him home cooked meals, getting him gifts and all things. Though there was one thing I hadn't tried. Sex.
I spent all day dolling myself up, wanting to be as bare and beautiful as possible for James. I shaved everywhere, leaving not a single trace of hair anywhere except for my head,, of course. I scrubbed every nook and cranny of my body, putting on James’ favorite set we bought together, doing my makeup just the way he liked it, lighting the candles he got for my birthday, and dousing myself in his favorite perfume I owned. All the lights were out, except for the lowlights of the candles in the bedroom. I laid on the mattress, waiting for James to come home, hoping this would finally get him to unwind from his stress.
I heard James’ keys jingle in the door, and I could feel myself getting more and more excited for his arrival. This would be one of the few times I would have him sober, as when they worked on material they rarely drank or did anything crazy, thankfully. His shoes thudded on the wooden floors, a sigh escaping his lips as I heard him slowly walk towards the bedroom.
“Are you home?” He called out to me before approaching the bedroom door, taking in the sight of me and the room I had spent the evening preparing for this moment.
“Hey baby,” I mused with a smirk, looking up at him with loving eyes. His eyes met mine, looking warm for the first time in awhile.
“What's all this for?” He asked, still taking in the well decorated bedroom and my sexy form.
“Wanted to help you relax… you've been so stressed,” I replied, grabbing his hand to try and bring him closer, to get into the bed with me.
It didn't take much more conniving, and James had given in pretty quickly to my offer. He was being more loud than normal, probably because we hadn't had the chance to be intimate like this in awhile. I loved this so much. Well, I loved being close to James again. He wasn't hitting the right spots or focussing on pleasuring me much, but that's fine, he's the one who needed to relax anyways, and I have enough time on my hands if I wanted to please myself, I guess. It didn't take long for him to come, pulling out and painting himself on my abdomen and my breath labored, coming down from…. Well, not an orgasm, but being close to one. James was beat after that, and I don't blame him for that. He had been so busy recently, I was happy we just got to share a moment like this together again.
I laid close to him under the sheets as we both recovered, James already half asleep. I had his hand in mine, kissing each knuckle of his and more, pouting all of my love into that moment. I looked up, having felt James’ eyes on me for a while. I met his blues, and there was a slight guilt in them, a gestation and regret. But, it didn't last long as he blinked it all away, taking another breath.
“How are you feeling now? Did it make it any better?” I asked, my voice heavy with sleep as I lazily continued to press kisses to his hand.
“I mean, yeah, I guess… It wasn't like, amazing though… I've had better, normally the groupies can do a bit more than that, y’know?” James said cooly, acting as if the words he just said didn't mean anything and had no weight to them.
“What?” Was all I could muster out, the tears already filling my eyes as I tried to process all of this.
“You heard me, the groupies normally do better.”
The words came so normally from his mouth, as if he was just telling me the date and time. But no, he was comparing me to prostitutes, previous women he has slept with. I began to cry, not just out of hurt and sadness, but this time anger. How could he say something like that to me?
And then the worst part hit.
He was sober.
Something I would've wanted more than anything else just a few days ago is now what is causing this experience to be even worse than it is with the horrible comparison and insults James had spewn at me. He meant it. Alcohol was toying with his brain, making him into the aggravated man I had grown to know quite well over the years.
“Are… are you serious? After everything? I put myself through hell to deal with this, to go to work, to do EVERYTHING for you! I have tried so hard James. And Yet you still compare me to them?! Sluts with prices on their heads?!” I cried, anger and hurt filling the fire in my eyes, and I could swear I saw Jamw\es’ cold attitude falter for just a moment. Maybe it was what I was hoping for, that it was all an act, that he truly did love me deep down, but maybe he didn't. Maybe this is the truth I had been hiding from all these months.
James didn't res;ond, just sighing with a shrug.
That's what pushed me over the edge.
“Are you fucki ng serious? You're not even gonna try and fight for this? Get out of here! We're done. Since you don't appreciate anything I do for you nowadays, I don't want you in here anymore. Pack your shit and leave.” I cursed at him as I continued to sob, processing the moments that passed, feeling as if the earth was slowing, each second hitting me hard and heavy.
I could see a slight guilt in James’ eyes, and as much I wanted to believe it was true, I couldn't give it in myself to do that anymore. I couldn't keep living this lie. He nodded, staying silent as I cried, slipping on his clothes and grabbing some things he'd need for the night.
“I loved you because you loved me, or so I thought you loved me, truly you don't give a shit!” I called out again, hearing James breath hitch at my harsh words, but he just left. No goodbye, the final words spoken to us only filled with hate and hurt, though millions went unspoken.
— —- — —> A FEW MONTHS LATER…
Not a lot has happened since I broke up with James, but a lot has changed. Maybe for the better. I miss him terribly, but a lot of weight is off of my shoulders now. I'm no longer worrying about having to make elaborate meals for him, or to do everything in my power to make him happy as [possible, watching my words at all times to make sure I wont say anything that might upset him. It was a large change. The house is still cold like how it was with him, but its a different kind of cold. There is no warmth of another body. Its quiet, no more TV static and laughter or guitar. Work had only gotten more tiring, but I had recently gotten promoted, something I had wanted for a long, long time.
I haven't spoken to James since we broke up. I know he had come by the next day, as when he left that night he only took clothes to last him the night, and when I came home from work, all of his belongings were gone, and his spare key was left on the counter, all of his music gear out of the house, leaving me a now empty room, not to house his guitars, and no longer holding the hopes and dreams of a future child.
Or so I thought all of his stuff was gone.
I came home after work, the house dark and silent, turning on the lights before going into the former music room, which had now become my office for the time being, as I needed one for the promotion, to be able to have a comfortable spot where I could do other work tasks from home. I set down my purse, sitting in my computer chair and sliding off my heels. I saw something in the corner of my eye, something that somehow had never caught my eye all these months.
An ashtray, repurposed to hold James’ many guitar picks. It was behind a lamp that was in the corner of the room on an end table. There was more than just guitar pics, but one of his rings. Like the ones he always wore on stage, the cool reflective metal that shone brightly under the spotlight. I paused, only having gotten one heel off, so confused as to how I never noticed. I sat in this same chair, facing the same direction, taking my heels off the same each day. I quickly got the other off before walking towards the table, picking up the ashtray, having remnants of cigarette butts and ash, some of which covered the pics. There had to be at least 20 of those pics, I don't know how James could forget such a thing, along with one of his more favorite rings. He wore it when we met, but I never made the connection as to that being the reason he left it. I missed him, yes, but having these almost made it worse. Like the world was teasing me that he is gone, that I won't be able to be held by him again, because he doesnt love me anymore. How I still love him, I don't know. Part of me still wants to believe he never meant any of it, but the chances of that being true is slim now. But, I didn't have the heart to call him, to return them to him. He would have come to get them by now, right?
I picked up the cold metal, holding it in my hand before slipping it on my ring finger. It was too large, slipping off quite easily. I tried the next, my middle finger, and it fit well enough to not fall off. It felt so wrong to wear, but it made me feel closer to him. I hated it, but I loved it. A little piece of him to be with me always. ‘God, I sound like a wife mourning her husband who died in a war.’ Was all I could think to myself, setting back down the ash tray and taking off the ring before sitting back down in my office chair, trying to shake my head of the matter so I could focus on the important task at hand, work.
I spent about two hours on the assignment before finishing it among other things, now exhausted even further. I stumbled towards the bedroom, changing into my pajama pants and a sleep shirt. Since the break up, I have refused to wear or even look at the clothes sJames had bought me. I didn't feel any desire to wear those things now that I knew he would be the one to see me in them. I never really wanted to wear clothes like that, but knowing he liked it made me like it. Now that he's gone, so is that enjoyment. I layed down on the mattress, sinking down as it swallowed me and the day whole. I had gotten used to the loneliness of sleeping alone, even after having a body next to me for the last four years. Maybe it was an easier adjustment as towards the end it was like sleeping next to no one.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The last few months are hard to describe. I can't explain it, I really can't. I've never been more lonely in my life, drowning all of my sorrows in the bitter bottles that wasted away each night and day. I've tried putting my energy elsewhere, focusing more on the band than I was earlier, trying to pour my emotions into guitar and lyrics, but nothing works. Nothing matches what I once had. What I threw away. What I ruined. Though, all my life, through all my struggles, there was one thing I learned.
Mask your emotions, hide your turmoil. It's something I had quickly gotten good at from a young age.
Or so I thought.
I went out for drinks with Lars to discuss lyrics and other parts of music for the record, as we normally had for our other productions and everything. We had another few weeks before we went into the studio, where we planned to record for many months, wanting this release to be the best we ever had.
Before I had even gone out to the bar with Lars, I had already had a few bars at home, or what I had tried to make into my home. It was a home, yeah, but it didn't feel homey. There was no warmth or touch to it to make it seem whimsical or joyful. I know I have a problem, but what is there I can do.
When I got there, Lars’s car was already outside, and I knew I was late by thirty minutes, having to build up the motivation to leave the house for a reason other than food, so trying to get up and socialize and talk about important stuff was not on my top choices to do.
I trudged in, my eyes darting around for the Danish, who was never that hard to find. And as I expected, I found him somewhat quickly, taking a seat next to him and ordering a drink for myself.
“Hey man, where the fock have you been? Been waiting here ages for ya,” Lars commented with his laugh, sipping on his own drink.
I just shrugged, “Sorry man, there was just…” I tried to think of a reasonable excuse, but none could come to mind. “Traffic, y’know, it gets bad around five or six, all those people getting off of work,” I explained, thinking I was an expert at this facade.
“Alright, whatever you say. Let's get to work now, yeah?” Lars tried to believe me, but it was clear he knew there was something more to what I said.
I just nodded, “Yeah,” I answered, and Lars took out his notepad where he already had some ideas for songs. The mask was as strong as stone, no way to see in.
Or so I thought.
Lars looked back to me, a thought popping back in his mind, “Traffic? There's normally not much in this area, I mean before you moved out of that place, shit, traffic was bad, but here? No way,” Lars questioned me, no longer believing a word I had said.
“Well, I guess it was just different today…” I muttered, “Let's just start now, leave it be,”. Lars agreed reluctantly, and soon we were sharing ideas sas I jotted down lyrics, Lars taking turns as we debated on the new project.
Of course, as we worked, we were drinking. Me more than him, and it was getting me tipsy, and then drunk. Normally we wouldn't get drunk during lyric writing, just a bit.. Wobbly, I guess. We were just reviewing the lyrics for the third song we were jotting up and I had ordered another drink.
“Jesus man, you only focused on drinking? We got shit to do!” Lars complained to me, and I just shrugged. “Sorry, got my priorities here…” I joked, and Lars only gave a pity laugh.
“Is something up? You've been acting weird as hell for the last few months. We barely see you anymore, and when we do, you're late.” He informed me firmly, clearly not wanting to put up with my demeanor much longer.
“I'm fine, didn't I already tell you that?” I responded, and at this point I just wanted to go home. “Well, you can tell me it a million fuckin’ times and that doesnyt mean Ill believe you,” He rebuttled, and I sighed. “So, what's up with you?”
I didn't want to answer, well sober me would've deflected. But drunk me? He doesn't have much of a filter. Who does when they're drunk anyways?
“Nothings up with me, just dealing with shit…” I answered, taking another sip of my drink.
“Ok, well dealing with what?”
“The breakup, and everything,” I answered, my eyes avoiding Lars’s own.
“Ohh, yeah, I see. What happened anyways? You never went into detail, just saying she kicked you out in the middle of the night. The fuck did you do to her?” He laughed, but the sting of the memories still remained.
“I.. well, I told her she was a shit cook, lazy, didnt work as hard me, and that groupies fuck better,” I admitted. Lars' face changed from a small smile to a look of shock.
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah”
“What would make you say something like that?! That's totally messed up!” I knew this would be shocking, especially coming from me to say something like that. But I didn't expect him to be this shocked.
“No, I did it for a reason, I'm not just some asshole! I didn't want to break up with her, and I didnt want her to break up with me, but I knew I had to get her to break up with me. I keep drinking, and it makes me into… I don't know, I'm a different person and I don't want to hurt her. The only option was to force her to break up with me.” I tried to explain, but Lars was quick to respond.
“Only option?! Have you heard of rehab? Getting help? Did she just let you waste away?”
“I didn't want to go to rehab either, and no, she did try to help, but I don't want help…” It was getting embarrassing at this point, showing how weak I had become.
“James, not everything is about what you want! There's things you need to do, but you don't want to. Those are just as important.” He paused, hoping my worlds would process through me as he thought of an idea. “How about this, clean up your act a bit and I'll get her back over here and you can go back to paradise, alright?” Lars offered and I perked up a bit.
“How the hell do you expect her to come back to me after all of that?”
“I never said she'd come back to you, I said I can get her over here, make you guys talk or something.” He corrected me, and I just rolled my eyes.
“Well how are you gonna get her to come here? She probably hates me at this point,”
“I have my ways, we were closer friends than you probably remember,” Lars’ words didn't help. He could never explain his plan, and that's what always ticked me off about him.
“Fine, whatever, work your midget magic or something,” I muttered under my breath.
“What did you just say to me?”
“Nothing, nothing, just do whatever it is, alright?”
“Fine.”
— — — — > A WEEK LATER…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Time moves slow these days. But not in a bad way, it was nice that life was hitting the breaks a bit instead of the pedal. Though, that joy wouldn't last long.
I sat in my office chair at work, working on some papers my boss had handed me a few minutes ago. He was giving me stack after stack after stack of papers today, all coming with my promotion I got a bit back. More money means more work, and more work means more money, so I guess it isn't all too bad in the long run. I glanced up from my paper, eyeing the now double repurposed ashtray, one being made for the intents of cigarette butts, then guitar pics, and now it held my keys and some other trinkets, including one singular guitar pic of James, one of his favorites.
I was startled out of my thoughts by hearing the office phone ring, quickly reaching to grab it, assuming it was a customer call.
“Hi, this is Capital Advisors, how can I help you?” I offered in a cheery tone, but the voice I heard response was not what I had expected.
“Hey man, look, it's Lars, something happened to James, you mind heading down to the studio?”
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Sure, Lars and I were close, but we haven't talked much since James and I’s break up. My words caught in my throat, processing the second half. “Something happened to James? What happened? Is he ok?” Even though he proved himself worthy of a break up, I still couldn't shake my love and worry for him.
“Uhhhh, yeah, no, sure he's fine, but you just needa come to the studio?” Lars rambled, not sure how to keep up his lie.
“Ok, yeah, of course, when do I need to be there?” My mind was racing, Lars wasn't being direct with what happened, so my mind could only think of the worst. He always poland things off to make them not seem as bad as they were. What if James fell and hurt himself? Overdosed on something? Only darker thoughts hit my mind.
“Like, now, this can't wait,” Lars demanded, and I had no choice but to agree.
“Yeah, I will be there as soon as I can, ok? Tell him I’ll be there soon, I don't want him to worry,” I gave in and then Lars thanked me and hung up.
Now I don't know what to do. My boss wasn't the type of person to just let me leave whenever I want, and I had already promised to Lars I would be there immediately. Though, my worries got the best of me and I quickly began to gather my stuff together. I grabbed my keys and my purse, quickly heading to my boss's office.
I always hated going in here, it was freezing since the AC was always blasted, and it reeked of musty air freshener. I gently knocked on the door before I heard his baritone voice respond, telling me to come in. I entered, seeing him sitting there, filing papers.
“Can I help you?” He said in a monotone voice, opening and shutting cabinets.
“Yes, I need to leave, like right now. ITs an emergency, family matter,” I tried to briefly explain, but it didn't take long for him to come up with a new response.
“Emergency? Of what? Is someone dying?” His eyes looked up from his papers, meeting mine as he waited for an answer.
“I… Well, I don't know,” I muttered, and it was true, I really didn't. With Lars’ vagueness, I tru;y didn't have a reason to not assume James was already on his deathbed.
“How can you not know?” He questioned me as if I was stupid, then noticing my pale and shaky look of true worry, “Fine, yes, you can go, but you're leaving three hours early. I want you working those hours back tomorrow. Understood?” He finally made an offer, and I quickly accepted without hesitation.
“Yes, thank you, and I'm sorry,” I responded with a smile and a nod, quickly leaving the office and getting to my car as fast as possible. Lars never specified where exactly the studio was, but I had been there a few times with James to hear them practice and record. I did my best to remember the way there, speeding in some places and having to make a couple U turns to figure out the exact spot. The whole time my head was buzzing, I could not think of one normal reason as to why James would want me there. He clearly didn’t like me much towards the end, even though I still like to think he never meant it and that it was only the alcohol talking, but I was probably wrong. Why did I still care so much after being so wrongfully disrespected? Part of me still loved him. Still wanted to wake up next to him every morning, hear the faint strumming of a guitar whenever I came home from work. Now those days were gone, and never looked like they would return. I still worried for the worst for James, endless horrid possibilities arising in my brain, all trying to piece the puzzle together.
When I finally pulled up, I saw two other cars out in front, not seeing James’ car, assuming Lars gave him a ride and KIrk giving Jason one. No cop cars or ambulances or fire trucks, so he isn't dying, or maybe they already left. Maybe I was too late?
I quickly got out of the car, almost running to the studio door, knocking until Lars came and opened it for me.
“Hey! There you are, took ya long eno-” Lars was quickly cut off by my own anxieties.
“Where is he? Is he ok? Was I not fast enough?” I quickly voiced out, my eyes darting around the inside and searching for him.
“Yeah, relax. He's fine. He's inside-”
“If he's fine then why did you make me come here from work?! I thought he was dying or something crazy,” I cut him off, questioning his efforts.
“No, none of that, you worry too much. He just wants to talk with you,” Lars answered, and my previous worries and a new suspicion grew in me.
“Just want to talk? Last time I talked with him he was critiquing me! He hates me! He doesn't want anything to do with me!” I voiced the feelings that had been clawing at me for months, never having anyone to tell them to.
“Or so you think. Look, just talk to him, that's all this is, ok?” Lars grew tired of my attitude and clearly I would have to give in soon.
“I want to, I want to talk to him, but I doubt he wants to talk to me,” I responded, trying to further explain my hesitations.
“I just told you that he wants to talk to you! Go in there, please!” Lars pleaded with me, and I sighed, finally agreeing.
“Ok, ok, I will,” I answered, beginning to head into the studio.
“Thank you! He's just down the hall, in that room with the sound equipment and everything,” Lars informed me, and I followed him, seeing James hunched over a table, scribbling down on a piece of paper. My heart was racing now. I hadn't seen him since that night. I didn't know what I would say to him, I was worried what he would say to me.
Then he looked up at me.
His cold, piercing blue eyes, a newfound softness in them as our eyes met. I avoided his eyes, but felt his lingering on me. Lars guided me in, shutting the door behind himself, leaving us alone. I was unsure of what to say, my eyes lingering on the floor, hearing James set down his pen.
“Uh… hi…” He started, probably just as unsure as I was.
“Hi,” I responded back shyly, avoiding his gaze, though I could still feel his own on me. The sound of footsteps approached me, instantly recognizing them as James’, and then I heard a click. Lars had locked us in here, now forced to talk.
“I.. I'm sorry, I really am,” He mumbled, and I looked up at him, seeing a true guilt in his eyes, “I wish I didn't do it, that I didn't say those things, that I didn't make you hurt so much like that… I should’ve been much more, well, mature about it. I feel like shit for everything,” James explained to me, but this only caused me to have more and more questions.
“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice still a hushed whisper as a wave of various emotions crashed down on me. “I had reasons for what I did, I just wish I went about it differently. I wish I had listened to you when you had offered me help. I didn't want to hurt you with my habits, and I couldn't break up with you, I didn't want to be the one to do that, so… so I tried to make you break up with me, and you did. Everything I said, it was a lie. I never meant it. You're a great cook, you work hard, you're just… you're amazing, you're too good for me.” James confessed, and I could feel a bit of the cold melt away, though still a hurt in my heart.
“Then why make me come and tell me all of this? This would only pour salt in that wound, no?” I was still confused at why he would make such an effort, but I still found it touching.
“Because I still love you. I want things back the way they were. I swear on everything, I've changed. I miss you more than anything-” I cut him off with a sweet kiss to his lips, and he melted into me, wrapping his arms around me in a comforting and loving embrace.
After James pulled away, he looked me in my eyes, “How could you forgive me for saying all of that to you?” He began, “Id think you would just… hate me, I was a total jerk,”
“Or so you'd think. I still love you and miss you more than you could imagine,” I responded with a small smile, and James matched mine, kissing me again. “Can… can I show you how much I've missed you?” James asked in a mumbled tone, clearly a bit embarrassed. My cheeks heated up at his offer and I giggled, nodding as our lips met a third time, a new hunger and desire now displayed. Slowly, he walked me to the table until I had backed up into it, his hands trailing up my sides until we broke away, his lips now going down my neck, eliciting a needy whine from the back of my throat, my hands pulling him closer, snaking under his shirt to trace his skin.
James’s fingers slipped under my shirt, working to get it off of my head, leaving my neck for only a second to remove the fabric before attaching himself to my sensitive flesh, feeling him suck and nibble, definitely leaving bruises. He gave a more harsh bite, causing me to whimper, then soothing it over with his tongue before pulling away. Soon his gaze focused on my breasts, still confined with my bra. His eyes met mine again, “Can I take it off?” He asked ,already reaching around my back to work on the clasp, which had become an easy task for him. I nodded, and soon the garment was now on the floor with my shirt. The cold air caused my nipples to erect immediately, and James’ eyes were locked on them, cupping the in his hands as he squeezed them and pinched at my nipples, making me make high needy sounds, causing him to smirk, kissing around the soft flesh, teasing me with every movement he made.
I began to claw at his shirt, trying to take it off of him, so he reluctantly pulled away from my chest, removing his own shirt, giving me a view I had missed more than I care to admit. My eyes dragged slowly over the newly exposed skin, and his lips crashed down on mine again, pushing me back so far I was now laying down on the table, the cold wood causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. I tugged at James’ pants, feeling myself grow wetter at the moment. He slipped down his pants, leaving him in only his boxers as you pulled down my skirt, leaving me in only my panties. I could see the bulge in his final layer grow at the new sight, and then he got on his knees, gripping the sides of my aunties and taking them off in a swift motion, leaving my glistening folds exposed to his hungry view.. His warm lips teased my thighs, kissing around the area I needed him most, making me writhe with desire. Eventually, his tongue found my center, giving it soft licks at first, parting my folds with his tongue. A moan escaped my throat, and James took it as his sign to keep going, burying his face between my thighs. He licked and sucked at my hole, probing at it with his tongue as his nose nudged my sensitive clit. My hand snaked into his long blonde locks, gripping his scalp tightly as I pulled him closer. I could hear him groan into my flesh, causing a vibration to coarse through me, making me moan again as I came closer to my first high. Eventually James moved further up, giving more attention to my aching clit, giving it gentle licks first to tease me before sucking it into his mouth, biting it softly, making me squeal from his ministrations.
“Jamei, fuck, Im gonna cum,” I whined out, tugging on hair harder, causing him to let out another low groan as he continued to feast on me. “Cum for me pretty girl,” He mumbled into my flesh, and like that my orgasm washed over me, a breathy moan falling my lips, feeling my core pulsate , releasing my grip on James’ head, allowing him to pull back.
James chin was drenched in my essence and his spit, some caught in his facial hair, wiping it off on the back of his hand. I dont think Ive seen anything hotter. His eyes landed on mine, and I noticed a lustful darkness in them, kissing me again as our tongues tangled in a battle for dominance, James winning in the end, and soon his boxers were on the ground, both of us bare in front of each other again.
JAmes broke the kiss, trailing his lips down my neck, leaving new hickeys and bruises in his wake as they now peppered my neck. I felt his tip at my entrance and I squirmed, his lips leaving my bruised flesh. “You ready, baby?” He asked, taking my hand in his, and I nodded, feeling him slowly push into me, the stretching sensation stinging my insides, a delicious stretch my body had missed as I tried to accommodate his size. Once he was to the hilt, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, squeezing his hand tightly.
I gave him a look of a need, and he gook note, slowly beginning to pump his hips, untwining our fingers as he positioned himself with better support, placing his arms on either side of my head. With every thrust a moan escaped my throat, tears pricking at my eyes from the pleasure. “Fuck, you’re so tight… haven't had anything since me, hmmm?” James whispered to me, and I could only whine in response, his calloused fingers sneaking down to my clit, brushing the bud lightly with the pad of thumb, and I began to squirm around his cock, feeling his thrusts increase with speed, more grunts falling from James.
The table I laid on creaked beneath from our frevorus movements of need, completely forgetting we were still in the studio. The band was still in that studio. This room wasn't for recording, very little sound blockers. Anyone in this building could hear us. The thought didn't pass my mind once throughout the whole experience, only focused and becoming closer with James once again, not just in body, but in our connection reforming with every minstration from either of us.
James' thrusts grew relentless, only increasing the pleasure for both of us as he chased his own high, helping me with mine, continuing to toy with and stroke my clit, moans and whines leaving me with any movement he made. “So pretty like this, baby, taking me so well,” He groaned, his small grunts and moans filling my ears like sweet music. I began to buck my hips, knowing that my orgasm was approaching, James not far behind, his vocal expression of pleasure growing in number and volume, mixing with my own mewls and moans, that and the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room, my nails clawing his back.
My eyes began to roll back, James’ name falling from my lips a thousand times as my legs wrapped around his waist, trying to pull him deeper to finally bring me to edge. James noticed and thrusted harder, hitting that special spot with every movement, making me have to cover my mouth with my hand, the unholy noises escaping me growing too loud for us to stay secret. James disapproved, “Mmmm, don't do that baby, let me hear you cum around my cock,” He cooed, and that was all the encouragement I needed to come over the edge, a high pitched moan coming from me, feeling my walls clamp down on James’ length, pulsating as waves of pleasure cascaded over me. James helped me ride through it, still rubbing my sensitive nub, his thrusts losing rhythm as he approached his own high.
“Fuck, sweetie, gonna cum inside you…” He grunted, his pace increasing as his movement became erratic with pleasure. “Take it, take it like a good girl, baby,” He moaned, his load shooting deep inside of me and painting my walls white with his seed. His hips sputtered, bucking into me as he collapsed on top of me, our sweaty foreheads clinging together as we both recovered from the intense orgasms, trying to catch our breath. James pressed soft, lazy kisses around my face, reminding me how much he loved me and how he'd never hurt me again if given the chance.
After a moment, we both had come down from our highs, James’ softening member sliding out of me with a pop. He looked down at the mess between my thighs, all evidence of our pleasure with each other. “Youre fuckin’ perfect,” He muttered, his eyes dragging over me.
“Are the groupies still better?” I teased him, remembering our bickering that was one real, or so I thought it was real fighting.
“Oh, hell no, they don't stand a chance to this,” He responded with a smile, and I smiled back.
We cleaned up, slipping back on our clothes so we were somewhat presentable. Only now did the realization that we were never once alone in this studio and the rest of the band was outside had hit me. A wave of embarrassment flowed over me, my cheeks flushing even more than they were before given the previous activities. Both James and I looked quite disheveled, our hair a mess and clothes wrinkled. I tried to shake off whatever nervousness I had in me as James put his arm around me. We went to reach for the door handle, only to find out it was still locked. Now it would be even more awkward. James knocked on the door from the inside, calling out to Lars, or anyone else in the studio.
“Guys? Lars? Can someone unlock the door?” And it wasn't long before footsteps approached, hearing a key click as the door swung open, Lars, more curious than ever eyed both my own and James’ appearance, noticing the hickeys, the slight wobble I gave, and any other imperfections that we might have displayed.
“I take it you two worked things out?”
— — — — > A FEW WEEKS LATER…
It had taken some time, a lot of talking, and more than just one hook up for James and I to work out any other issues that we had with each other. We met up a lot in the recent weeks after that, discussing different ways on how to help James with his drinking, and just trying to regain eachothers trust.
Soon enough though, James had moved back in with me. I kept my office space, but now the room was split in two halves. I worked in one half, while James did his guitar work in the other half. It was a fairly large room, so we both had our own spaces and rarely bothered each other. If I had a work call or anything that required silence, James would just migrate to the living room.
It was the same old schedule we had all those months ago, and I was now returning from work. It was Friday, now I would have plenty of time to relax and be with James. I pulled into the driveway, parking and getting out of my car as I walked up to the porch, the click of my heels following my steps on the cement. The lights were on, the door unlocked. I could hear a faint strumming coming from inside, meaning James was hard at work on new material for the album. It was my favorite thing to listen to while doing work assignments at home.
I walked in with a huff, setting down my purse and keys on the counter before heading to the shared office space. James wasn't playing much, just sounded like scales and chords for his warm ups. “How was work, baby?” James greeted me, still focused on his guitar. “It was a bit tiring, but it was good. I think my boss is starting to like me,” I answered, settling into my chair. He nodded in response, going back to fiddling with the strings.
It wasn't until a little later a soft, sweet and melodic tune had hit my ears. Much different than what Metallica normally plates. James hummed along to it, almost like he had lyrics already written out. But knowing him, he probably did.
“What are you playing? It sounds really nice,” I started, listening to a few more notes before continuing, “It's not what you guys normally play,” I commented, and James let out a deep hum in response. “Just something new I'm working on,” He replied, and I nodded, getting back to work.
Only this time, I couldn't focus. Normally James’s music helped me to focus, becoming a comforting background noise. This time though, I couldn't get my mind off of that melody. He kept going, and each second I kept getting more and more captivated by it.
“That songs really pretty, I like it,” I said, scribbling down whatever notes I couldnt on a piece of paper. “Thanks, it's actually, uhm..” He trailed off, and I knew something was up. I spun around in my chair, going to face him. “It's what?” I asked, confused by his shy demeanor.
“It's called ‘Nothing Else Matters’,” He stated, finally stopping picking at the strings. “Nothing Else Matters?” I repeated, connecting whatever the lyrics might be in my head to the melody. Normally their slower, melodic songs were dark and heavy topics, so I expected the same with this one.
“Yeah,” James answered, “I wrote the lyrics about you, actually,” He muttered softly, though I still picked it up. “About me?” I questioned, slightly shocked. “Yeah… I've thought a lot about, well, everything recently. Ever since that point a few months back I've reflected and everything… Rumors spread, and I just want everyone out there to get the right idea,” He paused, searching for the right words, “I want people out there to know that you're all I care about, you mean more than the world to me, and I want everyone to know that,” He stated, his tone true and emotional. I had never heard him say sweeter words to me, and I knew that he was speaking nothing other than the truth, I could see it in his eyes, there's a way to read people, and James wasn't easy to read, but you soon could learn the lingo.
“That means a lot to me, Jamie,” I answered, smiling at him. I got up from my chair to sit next to him on the couch, leaning against him. “Thank you,” I said, kissing him on the cheek. “You don't need to thank me, sweetheart,” James responded, wrapping his arm around me.
And now, I knew my whole world was whole again. What was once hatred, or so I thought was hatred, was once again love, everything as it should be.
#metallica fanfiction#j4h7#metallica smut#metallica x reader#james hetfield smut#james hetfield x you#James hetfeild x reader]#James hetfield#metallica#Metallica fanfic#this is so long#I love you annon#James hetfeild fanfic#megadeth#metal#Metallica x you
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I've been seeing a lot of eurylochus hate on tiktok and I've come to rant about how you're allowed to hate him if you want to (I understand) but also, from my point of view, the man doesn't deserve it all. (this is in no way hate towards odysseus, I love the dude)
the way I see it, he literally is just a man. he's made mistakes, obviously. shouldn't have opened the bag, shouldn't have questioned odysseus in front of all the crew, shouldn't have eaten the cows...
but people are calling him a hypocrite for the way he shouts at ody for sacrificing 6 men when he was ready to run for his life when they were with circe. and stupid for opening the bag when he had one job. and dumb for eating the cows.
here's the thing though. eurylochus started out in the musical as the guy that's worried for the dangers that await, he just wants to get home, like everyone else on the ship. he's the first ready to battle for the chance of food to feed themselves and skeptic at polites' view of being nice. he's all "let's get our food by force and get going, we gotta get home" ("I say we strike first, we don't have time to waste, so let's raid the place and-")
but then the kindness plan sort of works. for a quick second, before they start to get slaughtered by a cyclops. odysseus gets them out of it because he's a great leader tho. smart and with a plan, the kind of man eurylochus has relied on for over 10 years. his brother.
but... his brother is tweaking a bit, he had this fight with his matron and lost one of his best friends along with idk how many men that we're under his care... anyone would be traumatized, even if Odysseus doesn't see it yet (I believe he had a time of denial where he wanted to stay positive like polites, but deep down he was spiraling). and eurylochus shows his concern in luck runs out. was he wrong for voicing his concern in front of the crew? absolutely. but I think eurylochus' brain was also tweaking. bro was worried and wants to get home. he also can't help but think how in his war experience, there's many plans that have gone wrong, people around him keep dying and so what if? what if one of his captain's plans goes wrong and they're all goners? and Odysseus understands!! ("thank you for the concern (...) I understand that we're tired, I understand that we're fazed"), but he tries to remind him to have faith in him. so eurylochus does. and I think he's always had faith in his captain, he just didn't trust the gods to be in their favour anymore, because lately, they haven't. he also voiced it at the beginning of the song ("don't forget how dangerous the gods are").
and then eurylochus opened the bag. big fuck up. and maybe it's too far fetched and I'm just looking for ways to justify his behavior BUT. I don't think he did it just to disobey captain's orders. if he had done it because he didn't trust odysseus then guilt wouldn't have been eating him later. I understand it might be because Poseidon suddenly showed up and killed most of the fleet like a minute after he did, that's a big possibility, yes. I also don't think he did because he believed the bag held treasure. he trusted odysseus' word over anything else, so when he said the bag had the storm inside eurylochus believed him. but what if, just what if, by opening just enough the winds would propel them to Ithaca? then again, if the storm was holding them from getting there in the first place why would a man desperate to get home try that? this is not my strongest argument tbh.
then he wants to leave the men as pigs and go home. he truly just wants to go home (10 years of war, a horrible journey back when it should've taken like a week at most, my dude just wants his mom to pick him up and take him home and honestly, same). but bruh. he's been the one that's repeatedly said that they shouldn't trust strangers or gods, reminding everyone to be on their guard, and suddenly his men see a woman and forget all about it???? the guy is traumatized, mourning, tired, and angry. on top of that they placed an enemy that his men should've easily been able to defeat had it been a regular woman and they ended up as pigs, so he really sees no way of beating her and getting anyone back. of course he wants to run away!!! safe whatever is left before he loses himself completely ("look at all we've lost and all we've learned, every single cost is so much more than what we've earned, think about the men we have left before there's none, let's just cut our losses, you and I, and let's run")
and that's exactly the difference between eurylochus in puppeteer and odysseus in Scylla and mutiny. eurylochus wants to run away because he doesn't see another way out. he's seeing his friends disappear one after the other either to death or to magic, and he's on survival mode. whoever is left, whoever is still alive, they should leave before they aren't anymore. they all need to get home. odysseus however, he's blinded by the need to get himself home to see his wife and son. he's the one that has to get home, and to ensure that, they have to pass by Scylla's lair, because if they don't go that way, Poseidon might get them and if he does, he won't let Odysseus get out alive this time. so if 6 men is what it takes, he'll do it. it's not running away, it's sacrificing.
i think the next turning point for eurylochus is actually mutiny. but here it's important to talk about how much the journey has changed him, odysseus, and their relationship and the way they see each other. like i said, eurylochus starts the journey worried about what's up ahead and, like everyone else, thinking only about getting home. but he trusts his captain with his life in every decision he makes. he also speaks for the entire crew. odysseus also starts the journey tired and thinking only about getting to ithaca. but he's got 600 men to think about as well. as captain, their lives and deaths are on him, and with every turn, he loses more and more of these men. like it or not, he's responsible for it, even if he tried his best, even if he didn't mean for it to go in that direction; he's in charge, he's responsible. it's sorta like when parents tell the eldest kid they're the model for the younger siblings.
but in the polyphemus' cave, when odysseus panics and eurylochus has to wake him up from his unresponsive state, it's not only a blow for ody, it's also a blow for eurylochus. he relies on odysseus to carry them through and he wasn't answering. they were all going through the same thing, watching their friends die, but he was the one that's supposed to keep it together the most. alas, they're all just men. and that's when eurylochus' concerns and picture perfect of odysseus start to show and blur.
odysseus still tries his best to lead with kindness like polites showed him, taking care of everyone as he should, but with every passing day and with every hardship, it becomes more and more difficult to do so. and then, just when he thinks he's about to get the answer that will save them all, by going down to literal hell, the guy with the answer tells him he won't get home to his wife and kid (the thing that's been keeping him sane and giving him hope throughout this shit of a journey). that everything they've done, all the kindness, all the being nice, has been for nothing. he also realizes that he's taking way too long and he's losing too much, like his mom, who was left waiting. so he breaks (monster).
throughout this whole thing, he never doubted eurylochus would be by his side, and he lowkey neglects and takes him for granted. dismissing when he wants to tell him something ("whatever you need to say can wait some more, of that i'm sure" in puppeteer, and if he'd let him talk he probably would've been able to prevent mutiny, but he was too distraught and wanted time to think), and he was warned in keep your friends close too, even if he didn't know it. he was also warned by the prophet, but he still didn't know it ("i see a brother's final stand"). i think it's because while odysseus did want them all to go back home, at least during most of their travels, he mostly wanted to get home himself. deep down, he was always ready to make the sacrifices, life just hadn't forced him to make them or hadn't made the right circumstances or traumatized him enough.
eurylochus sees how the experiences change him from the outside, and what it means for the rest of them every time odysseus loses himself some more. but this is odysseus, it's his brother, the man he entrusts his life to, the man that's guided them through war and the underworld, taken them out of the weirdest troubles, and the man that's most desperate to reach ithaca. and the guy that's seemingly gotten his shit together (finally) and is ready to do whatever it takes, slay whoever now (different beast). so he'll pull through, right? he might be a monster towards the dangers that are trying to get them, but he's always done his best to protect them, so there's nothing to worry about.
so a part of eurylochus has trouble believing odysseus would really sacrifice six of their friends, because he doesn't want to believe it. but the smartest man he knows wouldn't just tell them to "run for their lives" when he's well aware they're in a fucking boat. and he is desperate. eurylochus asks, begs, odysseus to tell him he's wrong in thinking he didn't just do what he did, because he needs his brother to not have gone completely off the path they paved at the beginning of the story ("use your wits to try and say i'm crazy and mad, that this is all a trick the gods have sent").
but he's too far gone in his tunnel vision, and eurylochus has to think of himself and the men that are left too, who also want to get to their families. and at the rate this is going, he's losing too many friends. at first, odysseus was to blame only in the "he's responsible for all of us because of his role as captain", but he never meant for their men to die and he tried with all his might to keep them safe, but as of right now, he used them as bait and let them die on purpose. he can't stay in charge if he won't fulfill his role as keeper of them. so eurylochus stages mutiny. rightfully so? maybe, maybe not. i personally think he didn't do it out of hate, he just didn't see another out. but he wasn't a hypocrite any more than odysseus was, so in my opinion, he was justified.
anyway then they get to the sun god's island. and people like to say that he shouldn't have killed them cows. and this is one of the parts were the hate makes me lowkey mad. as humans, when we're pushed to a point of heavy starvation or anything that endangers our lives, we enter survival mode, where instincts take over and we do things we wouldn't do if we were in our right minds. and that's exactly it, eurylochus and the rest of the crew weren't in their right minds anymore. they're hungry, and they don't have the willpower odysseus seems to have. they've given up after everything they've been through, and they're hungry and don't think they'll make it home anyway, so they eat the cows. eurylochus can't help it, and even after all, he still cares for odysseus, but he doesn't believe in their chances anymore ("ody, we're never gonna get to make it home, you know it's true", "i'm starving/tired, my friend"). he's past the point of hoping, he wants it all to end, and he can only think of his hunger, the one thing he can actually do something about in that moment. ("how much longer must i suffer now? how much longer must push through doubt? how much longer must i go about my life like this, when people die like this?" he repeats it in plural as well, voicing the crew)
so in the end, he kills the cow. and then odysseus gets to choose and he chooses himself. he has to see his wife and he'll take any opportunity that allows him to. he's on survival mode too, just with a different goal, the one that keeps him sane and makes him push through everything horrible that happens to him.
the odyssey is a story that shows how its characters lose themselves to sorrow, each in a different way. so neither odysseus nor eurylochus are to blame for the way they acted, life pushed them to the edge and they each responded in different ways. it wasn't fair to either of them, they're just men that can only withstand so much.
#epic the musical#eurylochus#odysseus#they all just wanna go home!!!#all of them#not just ody#i love the development they both have even if uts tragic#it's very human and I think it's great bc of that
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Anyways I'm bored BSD no nuance hot takes
Yosano could probably beat pretty much everyone in the series with the exception of Fukuchi bc. Y'know
Dazai's not that hard of a character to understand if you've had depression from a relatively young age
Chuuya's not an alcoholic
He is gonna have heart problems when he gets older though
Kyouka's mischaracterization is so blatant in fandom but basically never bought up
Naomi and Junichiro have relatively equal amounts of focused screentime and development and in fact Naomi shows more initiative separate from Junichiro than he does from her
Also the theory she's a manifestation of his Ability has already been disproven
idk if this is even a hot take. Mori's not a predator. It's annoying and inaccurate and also boring as fuck to insist he is.
People write Ranpo too nice. Ya'll he's an asshole let him act like one.
Any problems people have with how Kunikida 'treats' Dazai are the same as how Chuuya treats Dazai and there's like zero argument there
Dazai wouldn't self harm
Atsushi's a great main character, one of the most interesting in the series, and does his damn job AS the main character
Chuuya's a good character, yes. There are also other fucking characters in this damn series than him and Dazai
Oda and Dazai pedestalized one another; this wasn't a healthy dynamic. However Oda really did understand Dazai in the end of Dark Era and WAS the reason Dazai was able to better himself and move away from a path that was gonna kill him and was one of the only people who could have convinced him to better himself.
The ADA-PM trade isn't gonna happen
Kunikida is both a well developed and fascinating character who's behaviors stem from stress, trauma, and likely high functioning mental illness, and is not as predictable as fandom makes him out to be
Also this isn't even a hot take but neither he nor Teruko are perma dead
Akutagawa did in fact Do That Shit. He did in fact Think That Way. He's having development but he does still believe the weak deserve to die and is only now learning not to have his instinctive reaction be murder. Like he can do what he wants but the fact his development is so good is undercut if you ignore how he started.
Also the PM is like. Not a good place? For anyone? Like the characters are sympathetic and we've been made aware of the complexities surrounding how it benefits the city but also as an organization and structure it's not at all healthy and BSD is. Pretty clear about that.
This fandom is like definition of "why are you going for moral simplicity in the nuance store" or however that post goes credit to the postmaker
#bsd#bungou stray dogs#bungo stray dogs#chuuya nakahara#dazai osamu#kunikida doppo#kyouka izumi#atsushi nakajima#akutagawa ryuunosuke#mori ougai#fukuzawa yukichi#yosano akiko#ranpo edogawa#teruko okura#junichiro tanizaki#oda sakunosuke
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Do you think ford would try to make a clone of the person he's obsessed with? Idk i feel like it might be up his ally to pull something freaky like that. Like obviously it's not actually them but they would have similar reactions to certain "stimuli" 👀. He's curious and no one has to know.
Also on another note about somno stuff, what if before you wake up from being drugged you have a wet dream about him and you feel so bad like hes so much older than you and here your lusting after a man thrice your age. He could be your father for christ sake but hes so goddamn cute and sweet and brilliant, its like watching nuclear fusion in real time.
You offer little acts of affection that can be brushed off or you think fords sleeping while you kiss his cheek/forehead or touch his arm or hand. You think you're not good enough for a literal genius and he's just going full send into creepville.
Using while you sleep, stealing your things keeps MULTIPLE journals on your habits, preferences, and anything password protected from him wont be for much longer. The man cant be bothered to touch himself anymore because its utterly lackluster in comparison to being inside you.
Also seeing you be sweet to mable and dipper?? Mans is gone, he's thinking about everything he missed out on while he was stuck running for his life for decades but the domestic moments have him hook, line, and sinker. He considers what it would be like to start a small family or just pretends that his great niece/nephew are his and your kids. Just desperate for the normalcy he lost for so long.
tw // implied noncon, somno, stalking
omg so yes on the clone thing. like absolutely he’d make a clone of them. he’d definitely use the clone as practice for the real you tho.
also the somno thing, you feel so bad for it and you can barely look him in the eyes. and he’s still reeling at the fact that he managed to get away with it. he starts to notice how you’re becoming more affectionate too and he takes that as sign to be even more aggressive with his behavior cuz obviously you’re falling for him.
i feel like seeing you interact with the kids is def one part of why he fell in love with you too.
#minors dni#yandere#x reader#yandere x reader#gender neutral reader#yandere stanford pines#tw implied noncon#tw somno#stalking
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Leo kurosagi analysis
this was requested but tumblr wont let me post to their ask so: Okay, Leo is selfish. I'm not gonna deny all the bad things people say about him, or even deny he is a bad person, but he is a GREAT set up for a character. I would like to say that Tokyo debunker is giving set up for growth from each character, Leo is just the most Jarring, for the fan base. full disclosure, I did not like Leo or even consider liking him until I saw the HATE on here, I'm not just trying to be quirky by liking the most disliked character either. I tend to just want to see the good in what most people dislike. I like kpop and I tend to bias the most criticized or least biased members of a group, because I think it's an amazing feeling to give love... Although I understand it's cathartic to hate too, and that's probably why the Leo hate is so strong. I also still don't LIKE Leo, but I really do want to explore his character and I probably will make more posts as we see him more and as I experience him more myself. The Leo cu*king tho, is maybe my least favorite "trope" in TBD fanfic rn... but I don't k*nkshame y'all :*
I also would like to say Sho is his friend, not his victim or Rapunzel. There is some value to Leo in Sho's eyes and I think we shouldn't degrade that because we see that if Sho doesn't like someone he will not engage i.e Ren. Sho is a sweet character and I think he might be friends with Leo because he wants to see the best in him or knows his more repulsive behaviors are a defense mechanism or explained by other reasons we the MC are yet to see. Why I think that is even tho the weird blob guys in the mystery diner suck at making food he still wants to see the best in them, and that very scenario could be a cheeky analogy from the writers themselves, about Sho and Leo. Obviously Leo could be blackmailing Sho, I know that is a commonly held belief, but I do have some perspectives that could debunk that thought. Leo doesn't Garner blackmail on his peers. I think Leo is nosy, and invasive, but he is also incredibly capable, implied by his contributions to the vagastrom group case. If he wanted to figure out who Alan killed he could with his hacking prowess, but instead he asks Mido himself. In invasive ways yes, but he could just have found the information himself, whether by hacking or asking the countless witnesses of the clash. Rather he asks Mido face to face, and, correct me if I'm wrong we can't say he wouldn't have taken no for an answer because Mido just gets mad at his antics and never gives him a straight up no. Again I could be wrong so let me know if Alan does give him a straight no. It's been a while since chapter two for me.
Right now I want to explore some possibilities for his character given the information we have about him ATM. I mentioned above the fact his little nasty, mean, degrading comments could be a defense moreso that he wants people to try and push past that to see if they're viable as his friends. Especially because he is micro-influencer he might be protective of himself because of that. As well as being a chronic liar online he may want to know if he can trust you not to expose him online. I think exploring his past would be amazing because even his stigma makes him seem like an overly cautious person, as well as invasive. Cautious? I feel like its cut and dry that wanting to hear what people say when you aren't around could hint to him being quite anxious about what people think about him. like idk I also feel like the jealousy we see towards Sho might also be more about people finding Sho more approachable. I think because Leo wants to be more involved with people in power he might have not been trying to scare Subaru away because "Sho is mine >:(" and actually could have been jealous that Subaru noticed Sho first and not him. Still awful right? but also like I said I don't see Leo as enjoyable but more so a lot of room for redemption, or explanation. Sympathy or empathy might be something we feel for him a lot if he is properly explored.
Obvs these are just possibilities right :) I actually find him very cute and I like his catty behavior, especially because in comparison to other nasty ghouls he is like a kitten hissing at you, harmless. Like dude Taiga shot me, and you're just a nasty baby, I smell your fear on the inside, you just want to be loved like everyone else. He's a true tsundere and not that "I swear I don't like you!!" shit and I appreciate that. I hope nobody misconstrues this as defense of his toxicity more-so that the point of tokyo debunkers focus seems to be everyone is demonizing these teens who seriously are just teens, and sometimes teenagers are catty are toxic, but they're still learning. Especially when the adults suck too... if not more because they are adults. AND LEO IS HATED FOR BEING STINKY AND MEAN BUT TAIGA AND ROMEO ARE LIKED BUT SO MUCH MORE MORALLY DECREPIT... so idk that especially irks me. I still would like to know what people think and if you are also excited to see the exploration of the ghouls especially Leo, and what theories you may have on him yourself.
#tokyo debunker#tdb#leo kurosagi#i love difficult characters#character analysis#tokyo debunker headcanon#tbd headcanons#tech savvy gays are always a lil evil#share your thoughts
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You've got some cool headcanons for Nuzi and Vuzi, but what about the third? You got any for EnVy?
Wow i suck at answering these on time smh. sighhhh, in my defense i procrastinate answering some questions cuz i don't wanna just put together some random stuff and call it a day-
i actually wrote some stuff for some asks before but had to delete it last minute cuz i thought its worth putting more time than that, i guess TvT sorry, im probably taking this too seriously idk.
My eNVee headcanons TvT:
[yall know the drill, the drone versions only, the human versions aren’t involved, and no nsfw- for now.]
k so, light envuzi involved too, Uzi is the mediator here, whether u consider her a friend here or their mini toaster in the middle- also there's some of the stuff from my future version where V is safe and sound thankfully. and also maybe some stuff from their past too.
With how N was realizing that V was lying or hiding stuff from him in a constant manner, naturally he grew to grieve the loss of who V USED to be, and with that loss he tried to accept that he has to let her go, because the V he fell in love with was long gone. despite this, when they both started teasing each other over their relationship with Uzi and N started to bite back a bit at Vs behaviors with more self confidence, they grew to form a completely different kind of relationship. Uzi was just having fun seeing them try to win her over lmao; but in the end they kind of started enjoying eachothers company again. Uzi felt happy seeing them get closure for the things they went through and was more than happy to support them through it.
Back at the manor V was fixed up after J and N, she was one of the later drones added to the family, she hardly spent much time at the manor at all before the great yeetening happened- she was originally a maid drone for a family before she was broken and dumped in the drone corpse junkyard. Maid drones are programmed with sweet and soft AIs with more round/short body shapes to have a friendly image in a household, they are made to be able to deal with both adults and kids, and they are best made for cleaning and setting up the house in mind. N was made as a butler/chauffeur before getting broken and yeeted in the junkyard [yes he can drive]. Due to V getting broken for some sort of mistake during work, she was left scarred after her reboot to make any more mistakes, which left her slightly jitter-ish and clumsy. Tessa put N in charge to help her around and although at the beginning V didn't talk much and felt unsure, slowly N became her safe space- especially since Tessas abusive parents remind V alot of her old household. N in turn thought V was always cute, he helped her with her work, having more steady hands, which ended with a lot more hand touching and blushing on both their ends :p
N was the one that suggested glasses for V which Tessa decided to try doing to see if it would help her visual efficiency in any way, and it did. V as a DD often tries to rely on her real eyes rather than look through her main visor, the glasses remind her too much of N...
N and V sometimes used to get out of the manor in secret spots to spend some time away from the chaos to help V calm down. during this time they would read books, learn stuff from each others past lives, and sometimes draw lol, but V just liked watching and listening to N, she felt happy with him. although unlike N, V felt a bit nervous around the animals in the area XD
N and V actually have shared kisses, just not on the lips. with N kissing her on the back of her hand as a gentleman and V giving him kisses on his cheek [Tessa's idea of a cute plan to put them under a mistletoe lol], but Vs last words to N was a promise to give him a kiss before she became comatose. as more drones in the manor stopped working and Ns efficiency and work became less useful to the manors occupants due to him wanting to spend time with V all the time, Louisa and James started becoming more impatient with Tessa's drones, which lead to the whole "get rid of them" line...
back in the current time V is obviously trying to protect N in her own traumatized way; but even then, most of the things she had done to "shelter" N, was probably not the best choice one could make, and some of it was done out of jealousy towards N and Uzi getting closer. However, slowly she started convincing herself that N deserved someone like Uzi. V had convinced herself that she deserves nothing. She was willing to give up everything for N and keep him safe from the beginning, even if it meant knocking N down a few limbs/heads just to keep him away from danger- which is problematic in itself. she made choices based off fear and urgency. she was always traumatized.
When N and V started getting along together a bit more and hanging around a bit in the human cities- V takes N to a bookstore she found once and they spent the whole day in the shelter of the store reading different old books. V still does not admit she did this to see N happy again lol.
When N started showing V affection again, V started becoming heavily touch starved and dependent on him again, just like the manor days, which she feared, which caused a minor set back for a while where she tried to avoid N. Uzi had to come and fix this shit cuz apparently only she can scold 2 dinosaurs without feeling intimidated. after N and V kiss for the first time PROPERLY after the whole solver BS ends, V just gets more touch starved and she hates both N AND Uzi for this lmao.
N and Uzi know that one of the only ways to make V calm down is to act soft with her, occasionally praising her and calling her nice things; even when V is literally threatening to bite their head off- [shes bluffing-.......mostly.]
N is usually the one that initiates any closeness with V. after their first kiss, N does tell her that she's done stuff that he might not be able to casually forgive, but at the same time he has seen her grow, and she does have good in her that he still loves her for.
V has nightmares and hardly ever sleeps, and when she does, its usually cuddling N or Uzi.
V tries to wear her glasses more often in the future. N likes it a lot :"3
V is surprisingly a good mom :p [spoilers for my au lmao bye] but yeah, since her original OS was for a maid, she still has some functions to be good with little ones. she cant help herself, she just really likes babies and kids.
N likes sometimes ballroom dancing with V for old times sake...
[i think this is as far as my brain will allow me, please excuse me as i jump off a cliff :") ]
#murder drones#snowballflo#snow rambles#envy#envee#goldenmemories#serial designation n#serial designation v#n x v#v x n#envuzi#violentbitingbiscuits#nuziv#uzi doorman
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