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drabblesandimagines · 8 months ago

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Leon Kennedy x female reader, commissioned piece Lots of dumb fluff ahead! Thanks so much to the lovely @porcelainseashore for commissioning me with the brief of Leon using a dating app! I've said it before and I'll say it again - please do go check out Porcelain's fics! x

“So,” Leon places his elbows on the counter behind, leans back and flashes a winning smile, “how about dinner later?”

The auburn-haired woman waits for her coffee to finish dispensing before she shakes her head, lips pursed. “No, thank you, Agent Kennedy.”

“Oh.” He was sure they’d had some sort of connection. Their eyes had met across the office on more than one occasion, flirtatiously so – had he read it wrong? “You have plans already tonight?”

“Mm, something like that.” She smiles, politely, picking up her DSO-branded mug and heading out of the break room without so much as a glance back.

Leon shrugs it off – he’s good at that – and places his own mug under the spout, about to make his coffee selection when a familiar voice chirps over his shoulder.

“Have you ever thought of internet dating?”

He spins round, surprised. “Claire?”

“Hi.” She waves with a smile. “So, internet dating?”

Leon’s brow furrowed, about to ask why she was here, but from the visitor lanyard around her neck it was clear it was down to some sort of TerraSafe business, but why is she going on about internet dating?

Oh.

“Wait, did you hear…?”

“The dinner invite? Oh, yes.” She nods, crossing her arms. “Does that ever work?”

“Yes.”

Claire quirks an eyebrow.

“Okay, not recently.” He retorts, turning back around and pressing the button for his black coffee to start dispensing.

“Uh-huh…” She steps forward, turns to lean against the counter to look at him. “I’m telling you, Leon - internet dating. I finally convinced Chris to give it a go about six months back, and he seems pretty happy. Been seeing a nice girl for three months now – a florist.”

Leon shakes his head, watching the coffee dispense with feigned interest. “Surprised Redfield went for it. How the hell do you introduce anyone to what we’ve seen?” At least with women from work, he didn’t have to skirt around what the hell he does all day.

“Heard of keeping work and homelife separate?”

“And Chris manages that?”

“I mean, she knows what he’s shared with her, but he took it slow. It’s not like the government can keep everything secret these days – not with everyone having a smart phone.” Claire grimaces, remembering the videos of the Alcatraz attack popping up on social media on a live stream. It was taken down pretty quick, but still popped up occasionally. They can’t hide it forever.

“Anyway, enough about Chris’ love life, I’m trying to help yours. Have you tried it? There’s websites and apps…”

Leon recalls a week of medical leave – battered, bruised and laid out on the couch on high doses of meds, flipping through the cable channels and losing hours to a show about people falling in love over the internet, only for the person to be using a fake photo of an entirely different identity and being crushed when they met in person.

“Isn’t that where the catfish are?”

Claire rolls her eyes. “We won’t set your radius that large.”

He looks down, a little confused. “My… radius?”

Leon’s not present on social media, but that’s hardly a surprise with his work. Maybe, if things had been different, he would’ve trawled through it at some point – joined a group for graduates from the Police Academy of ’98, checked in, gone to some sort of graduating class reunion where they would’ve swapped stories from precincts over a lukewarm beer or two in a hall dressed up with balloons and streamers.

Come to think of it, he doesn’t really remember the names of anyone in his graduating class, though he’s not sure if that’s down to a certain amount of knocks to the head throughout his career getting to him. He could look them up – they’ll be in some sort of database somewhere that Hunnigan could help him locate, but what would he say?

“Me? Well, I had one day on the job – hell of a first day, actually – and then I was ‘recruited’ into military training, so technically not a cop anymore either.”

“Phone, please.” Claire has moved to sit down at one of the small tables in the kitchen, now holding out her hand expectantly. He finds himself joining her, mug of coffee in one hand and the other pulling out his cell from his suit jacket pocket. He hands it over because it’s Claire and he’s known her long enough now to know she’s not going to drop the subject so easily.

“Have you got any selfies on here?”

“Don’t think so. Why?”

“To put on your profile. Anything I shouldn’t see in your gallery?”

He shakes his head.

“Seriously, Leon?” She must’ve opened the app by the way she’s scrolling down on the screen. “These are all sunsets and photos of your motorcycle.”

“What should I be picking pictures of?”

“Oh, wait… Here’s one.” She turns the phone around. It’s him, grinning, next to a corpse of a zombiefied lion. “I repeat – seriously, Leon?”

“Ha, yeah.” He smiles in acknowledgement. “I was trying to get Hunnigan interested in fieldwork with the spectacular sights.” Claire turns the phone back around and the sound of a camera shutter clicks out of the speaker.

“Ooh, that’s a good candid – and no-one needs to know what you were looking at.”

“Look, it’s nice of you to offer, but I don’t know about all this…” He rubs the back of his head.

“It’s 30 days free. Just try it and if you still don’t like it by the end of the trial, you can delete it off your phone and I won’t bring it up again.”

He stalls, taking a long sip of his coffee as he thinks. Claire means well, after all and if Chris has had luck with it, considering what Leon knows he’s seen and lived through, what does he have to lose, really?

“Fine. 30 days.”

“Great! Now, let’s set up your profile…”

Claire had given him a tutorial – swipe left if you’re not interested on a profile, right if you are. If the person swipes right in return, it’ll set you up as a match and you can start a conversation – signaled by a small speech bubble icon appearing on the bottom right.

It wasn’t until that evening that Leon tried it out properly, sat on his couch, killing time before bed and begins to swipe through. It feels a little odd – he usually likes to get to know a person somewhat before offering out his dinner invite, but this is mostly on looks alone, with a tiny snippet of profile information – age, location, what they’re looking for.

He swipes right on a blonde, her profile full of photos from beach vacations or something, says she’s not too far away from him and is ‘looking to connect with someone deeply.’ A chat box pops up immediately and after a moment or two, three dots show Beauty – he’s not sure that’s her real name - is typing.

Hey, big boy. What’s bigger – your forearms or… An eggplant emoji?

Oh.

He hesitates over writing back a response. He can flirt with the best of them, but how is anyone meant to make a genuine connection over this app? Maybe he’s too old for this shit.

He puts his cell down by his side and switches on the television instead.

“So…” Claire drawls over his shoulder over three weeks later, tracked him down to his desk.

“So…” He mocks back with a tease, swinging around in his office chair.

“Any good dates recently?”

He laughs. “How do you even get that far?”

“You’ve not gone on one?”

“Not for lack of trying.” It’s true. After Beauty, he had struck up conversation with a few more genuine girls that seemed to be going well until he’d broached the idea of a date and they’d drop off the radar. “A couple seemed interested but then stopped replying. I got one date – she didn’t show up.”

“Oh, come on.” Claire leans against his desk. “That can’t be everyone. Let me see.” There’s the expectant hand again. He sighs, picks up his phone and opens the app before handing it over to her.

She sets to scrolling through new arrivals for him, before she pauses. “Well, this one looks sweet.”

“Claire, I appreciate your concern but I just don’t think this app is for me. I gave it a go, I swear.”

“I know, but you’ve got a few days left on the free trial at least - you won’t lose anything. Just take a look?”

He takes the phone back and looks at the screen – a cropped picture of you, it looks like, your friends’ arms around your shoulders, a big, genuine smile on your face. Not a pout or a smolder in a night club mirror.

“Aw, you’re smiling.”

“Fine.” He swipes, but the message bubble doesn’t pop up. That’s the one thing he doesn’t like about this app – you never know if the other one will swipe back.

“No match.”

“Give her a moment,” Claire elbows him, playfully. “Not everyone is scrolling for dates at work.”

“Hey-”

“Speaking of, I’ve got a meeting. See you!”

You throw yourself down on the bed, a little bit tipsy after an evening of drinking with your friends, and hold your phone dangerously above your face – you’ve been so close to giving yourself a black eye from the drop so many times but never learn – and open up that stupid app. Your friend had encouraged you to sign up to it after declaring you’d been in a pity party for long enough now after your last break-up and it was time to get back out there.

You scroll through the latest arrivals, swiping left as you go. Everyone internet dates now, you don’t know why you only seem to attract utter creeps on it. You’d been on a few dates, but they’d all been entirely awkward outside the safety of the chat box.

You pause on one new arrival, Leon, 41, the first photo in the set clearly a candid. He’s dressed in a suit – no tie. Businessman, you wonder? Amazingly hot and maybe the most shiniest hair you’ve ever seen.

You roll over onto your stomach and swipe right, smiling when a chat bubble appears.

Leon had just settled into bed for the night when his phone vibrated angrily on the bedside table. He threw a hand out, blindly, and looked at the screen, half expecting it to be an email from work or a message from Hunnigan.

It’s neither – a notification from the app.

Hi, Leon. Thanks for swiping. Can I ask something?

He frowns – a unique opener, but it could still go the way of the others, he reckons. He’s not a prude, per say, but he’s seen a lot more than he was intending to these past few weeks. He backs up and has a quick scroll through your profile, vaguely recognizing your face from when he’d swiped right earlier that day – the girl Claire had deemed sweet.

Hi – ask away.

A bubble appears with three dots within.

How do you get your hair that shiny?

Leon barks out a laugh - definitely refreshing.

I’m sorry, I don’t think we’re at that stage of our relationship yet where I’m comfortable sharing my beauty secrets.

Please? Mine is so dull.

He clicks on your profile again and onto the photos but can’t see why you’re worried about your hair. Truthfully, all he registers when he looks at the picture is that sweet, genuine smile.

Looks pretty good from what I can see.

The camera adds all the shine. Are you using a filter?

Trust me when I say I wouldn’t know how.

Don’t know about filters but using a dating app? That doesn’t gel.

My friend suggested I give this online dating thing a go, so here I am.

Well, you’ll have to thank your friend for me.

Leon hesitates a moment, before shrugging it off.

I’ll be sure to, especially as it’s got me talking to you.

Your scalp tingles, but it seems nothing to do with the alcohol consumed earlier.

Too cheesy? I told you I’m new to this, right?

Nah, you’re gouda.

Leon grins.

The conversation continues to flow over the next few days. You talk about work – he keeps it vague, works in the government, can be called away on business trips last minute – and you are equally elusive in your response of office work. Internet safety, he reckons, smart girl that you are. Hearing his phone ping with a notification has quickly become his favourite sound.

Nice day? Definitely. Picked up my motorcycle – it’s been in the shop a while. Dare I ask what happened? He hesitates. Chasing a bioterrorist down a highway is perhaps a little too much…

Hit by a truck. I wasn’t on it - obviously.

Jeez. Insurance not just buy you a new one? I can’t think how that’s salvageable.

It’s my favourite, I couldn’t give up on her. You ever been on a motorcycle?

Uh-uh. Too scared.

What of?

Falling off, mainly.

No danger of that if you ride tandem - just need to be sure to hold on real tight.

You bite your lip, mulling over a response, but Leon fills the gap.

And I’d look after you, of course. Make a nice first date, don’t you think?

First date? That’s more, like, third or even fourth date material.

There’s your chance, Kennedy – don’t mess it up.

Well, then we better get the first date out of the way.

You bite your lip as you type back a response. Is that your way of asking?

If it is?

If it is, then I’m free Friday...

Perfect.

Friday morning arrives and Leon’s at his desk, typing up a report when his phone chimes. Checking over his shoulder, he pulls it out of his pocket and smiles when he sees it’s a text from you. You’d exchanged numbers the other night, deciding it time to take communication off app ahead of meeting up.

Morning. Question?

Morning. Still after my shampoo secrets?

Yes… But not that. How am I meant to recognize you?

I thought that’d be easy – by how shiny my hair is, apparently.

It’ll be dark out, though.

Is this you trying to be subtle about asking for another photo?

No comment.

Leon locks his computer, the screensaver switching to today’s date and time on a black background. He swings his desk chair around, looks around again to make sure no-one’s on their way past, and opens the camera app. He flips the viewfinder around and tries out a couple of smiles before snapping a selfie – if Claire could see him now…

He sends it through.

Included the time and date and all. Happy?

No comment.

Well, how will I recognize you?

Easy. I’ll be the one coming up to you and saying, “Hi, Leon.” See you tonight x

Until then x

The two of you had decided to meet at a bistro – varied menu for all tastes, not too intimate, excellent wine, spirits and craft beer menu.

Leon is nervous as he stands to the side of the entrance – an emotion he hasn’t truly entertained since 1998. There had been no time for it when bioweapons and death were staring him down the face. But, tonight… Well, he’s out of his element on this one. Leon had only ever approached women through work and, yes, it was to varying degrees of success but they’d already seen him properly in person, heard his voice, aware of what he does. There was a horrible niggle at the back of his mind that the date who had stood him up a few weeks ago had caught sight of him and turned heel on the spot.

He looks down at this watch to see it’s bang on 7.30. He’d arrived ten minutes too early, but didn’t want to chance being late and showing up in a fluster. When he looks up, slipping a hand back into his pocket, a figure with a familiar face is walking towards him, greets him with an anxious smile and an awkward half-wave.

God, you’re adorable.

“Hi, Leon.”

“Hi,” He smiles, one hand still in his pocket, the other hanging down by his side. He wonders if he should’ve gone in for the kiss on the cheek, but he’s missed his chance.

“Erm…” You wring your hands together. “You okay?”

“Great. You?”

Why does he feel as giddy as he did when he picked up his girlfriend for prom back at high school?

“I’m good. It’s nice to put a… voice to a face?” You laugh – light and airy - and Leon’s already desperate to hear it again.

“It really is. Er, shall we?” He gestures forward with his arm.

You nod. “Let’s.”

The conversation is stagnant at first, a sentence here or there as you peruse the drinks menu and move on to ordering starters and entrees. With a little liquid courage, though, the two of you soon slip into easy conversation.

It’s just after the appetizers are cleared when Leon realizes he’s completely and utterly smitten.

You don’t even know where the time has gone, but all of the sudden the two of you are the only diners left and it’s clear the wait staff are looking for you to leave so they can begin their nightly clean down.

He follows you out and onto the sidewalk, a few metres away from the bistro entrance, standing awkwardly opposite each other – mirroring the beginning of the evening.

“So, fancy a ride?”

You tilt your head at him curiously before you burst out into laughter and he grins, rubbing the back of his head, awkwardly, as he realizes the context.

“I mean, I brought my bike here. I can give you a ride home - on my bike.”

You smile. “Not on the first date, remember?”

“Of course.” He nods. “Sticking to your principles – I respect that. Well, can I call you a cab?”

“Oh, actually, I’m gonna walk. I live just in that building over there…” You point up to an apartment building about halfway up the next block.

“I could walk you across the street?” He cringes as he realizes maybe he’s coming on too heavy-handed. “I’m sorry, I promise I can take a hint-”

“No.” You cut across abruptly. “I mean, walking me home would be nice.”

You cross the road in silence, both wrapped up in your own thoughts. You wish you lived slightly further away so you’d have longer to work out what to say, how to end the night.

“So…” Leon begins the other side of the road, the entrance to your apartment block just ahead. He’s trying to keep calm and collected, but there’s just something about you that has made his heart race, his palms sweaty. Don’t fuck this up, Kennedy. “I had a really lovely evening.”

“Me too.” You smile back – and you mean it – but you can’t help but brace yourself. Is this the part where he says, yeah, he had a nice time, but he’d rather not do it again? It seems all too good to be true. He’s the same as he was on the phone, messages and photos.

“Great…” You take a deep breath at his pause, unconsciously clenching your fists, “..cos I was wondering how you felt about a second date?”

“You’re really desperate to get me on that motorcycle, huh?” You tease, instantly relaxing. “But, seriously, I’d like that, to see you again.”

“Is tomorrow too soon?”

“That depends what you have in mind.” You stop, suddenly – the apartment foyer to your left. “This is me.”

“Well, we’ve done dinner, shall we work backwards and have lunch next?”

You take a step closer. “And then breakfast?”

“Fourth could be a midnight feast?” He steps forward too, misjudging the distance and something hard brushes against your stomach. Leon’s eyes widen in alarm. “Oh, wait, I…” He dips his hand into his trouser pocket and pulls out a travel-sized bottle of shampoo with a sheepish smile. “I meant to give you this at the end of dinner – my beauty secret.”

You yank him forward by his jacket collar and kiss him before you can even think properly about what you’re doing. You step up onto your tip toes to deepen the kiss, a hand bracing yourself against his chest for a moment before you mean to step back, maybe even apologise for pouncing on the man, but Leon’s arms wrap around your waist, holding you in place, kissing you back incessantly before you both have to retreat for breath.

“Well, if I knew the shampoo would get that reaction I would’ve started the night off with it.” He murmurs, pulling away and resting his forehead against yours. “I gotta ask though - you’ll kiss on the first date, but not ride a motorcycle?”

You shrug, half-heartedly. “One’s more dangerous than the other.”

He kisses you once more, softly, ending with a teasing nibble on your lip.

“Oh, we’ll see about that, sweetheart.” -- Masterlist . 1,000 followers event

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff

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barcaatthemoon · 6 months ago

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guard dog || lucy bronze x reader ||

lucy cheers you up when the internet has it out for you.

"i think i'm gonna go lighter with my hair."

you had no idea the trouble those words were going to cause you. lucy had tried hard to keep you out of the spotlight, but it wasn't as easy as when you first started dating. you'd been with lucy since college, and over the years, fans had taken notice of you frequenting lucy's games. it wasn't until the euros, however, that lucy had finally confirmed your relationship.

it wasn't good for you to be on any social media when it felt like every other post was about you. you had dealt with a bit from fans before, but this was worse than you could have ever imagined. it was one thing to be accused of cheating by strangers, but it was the constant affirmations of things that you already thought about your relationship and yourself that got to you.

lucy was amazing, and you had never felt like you were right for her. she was always too smart or too ind for you. she was out of your league attractive. lucy bronze was too good for you, and it felt like millions of people agreed with that.

"hey, are you okay?" lucy's brows furrowed as she watched you lean forward. you were starting to hyperventilate as the world felt like it closed in on you. lucy rushed over to kneel beside you and tilt your head to look at her. "hey, what's going on?"

"i didn't cheat on you, i swear." it was something lucy already knew. you knew that she was well aware that you would never even think to do something like that, but it was all you could say. you needed to reassure her in case she saw the pictures and didn't recognize herself.

"i know that, i never said you did." lucy would have laughed if you weren't obviously so upset. "talk to me, what's going on?"

"the pictures after you got your hair done, when we met for lunch. i took your car, and they don't know what the other looked like. your hair was different, they think i'm cheating. they know that i don't deserve you," you rambled. lucy pulled you into her arms and held you against her chest. she ran her hands through your hair as she pressed gentle kisses to your temple.

"hey, it's okay. i will get this sorted out, i promise. can you go downstairs and pick out a takeout menu for us? i know that you were gonna cook, but not if you're upset. i want you to just relax for the night," lucy said. she gave you a squeeze before she let you go downstairs.

it wasn't easy, but you managed to take your mind off of everything after lucy hijacked your phone. lucy ordered your favorite takeout, even if she knew a few places that served the same thing that she liked better. you were truly pampered in a way that you hadn't been in a while. lucy was a busy woman at barcelona, not that she had ever been anything else. this was just different, and things often took up a lot more of her time than either of you expected.

"am i done with phone jail?" you asked lucy as the two of you laid out on the couch the next afternoon. lucy had helped you with breakfast in the morning, although you didn't let her lay a finger on your coffee. the two of you had spent most of the day catching up on the american sports that you had been missing out on.

"i don't know. do you promise not to make fun of me if you see anything too sappy?" lucy asked you. she looked a bit ashamed of herself, as if she had done something hastily last night. you knew that lucy could be fiercely protective over you. she had nearly beaten up one of her teammates when the two of you moved here and the girl had gotten too friendly with you for lucy's taste.

"that depends on what you did. lucy please tell me that you didn't say anything to get yourself in trouble." you stared at lucy, who just handed you back your phone. she tried to shift away from you, but you threw your weight down more securely on top of her. you opened up instagram to see that lucy had tagged you in a post. "aw baby."

you swiped through the pictures, each one from a different milestone in your relationship. they weren't necessarily your favorite pictures, but you knew that they were lucy's. there wasn't a single one where one of you didn't have a lovestruck look on your faces. most of them were lucy staring at you, but you definitely took note of the few thrown in where you looking at her like she was your everything.

"shut up," lucy grumbled. you looked at her with fresh tears in your eyes, and lucy just sighed to herself. "fuck, this wasn't supposed to make you cry."

"i love you so much," you said as you cupped her cheeks. lucy let you kiss her, but she tried to hide her face immediately once you were done. "you're so sweet. thank you for this."

"just stay off of twitter for a while," lucy told you. you nodded your head, but as soon as you went into one of your text chains with the few of her teammates you had befriended over the years, you saw what she wanted to hide from you. lucy was a woman of few words most of the time, but when she had something to say, she made sure to get her point across. you thought she was being a bit harsh, but lucy's message was sure to shut everybody up about getting at you.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze x reader

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depravitycentral · 20 days ago

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Yandere! Kiyoomi Sakusa General Profile

Yandere! Kiyoomi Sakusa x fem!reader

TW: kidnapping, stalking, drugging, controlling behavior, Kiyoomi is secretly a wee bit of a misogynist, he makes a few comments about Reader's weight but there's no explicit descriptors, allusions to reader purposefully hurting themself, reader suffers a minor concussion but it was an accident, implied noncon, mentions of physical abuse, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 10K

DARLING PROFILE:

Considerate

Kiyoomi is not an especially generous person. He’s civil, sure, and adheres to social customs enough to not be considered too rude, but he’s never really understood the need to stick out one’s neck at the expense of others.

And so Kiyoomi is equal parts intrigued and frustrated by a darling who’s empathetic and cognizant of others’ desires and wants. He thinks it’s admirable, if not a bit naïve, but it’s not until they stick their neck out for him that he really begins noticing them.

It’s small things – offering him the package of communal sweets first so that he can have the first bite, their smile seeming too big when they tell him that they know he hates when other people touch his food first. It’s the way they always ask about his day, asking about specific details when his blanket statement of fine doesn’t seem to be enough.

(And specifically, it’s the way they ask about how he felt, rather than simply what he did. It makes him pause and think, glancing at them like they’re crazy, but finding himself slightly intrigued because he can’t remember the last time someone had asked about his feelings.)

It irritates him, more than anything, but as his friendship with them grows, Kiyoomi finds himself almost growing protective over how invested his darling is in others. It’s dangerous to be so selfless, don’t they know?

They’re practically asking to be taken advantage of, and while Kiyoomi tries to convince himself that he doesn’t care in the beginning, it becomes harder and harder to maintain that air as his feelings slowly begin festering.

It’s just a sign of stupid kindness, he thinks, but it nonetheless draws him in, desperation to be seen by his darling insatiable.

Smart

Unfortunately, Kiyoomi is a bit of a snob. And although his profession isn’t exactly academic, he still likes to think of himself as a man with decent taste, or at least someone with a good head on his shoulders. And so, having a darling who is equally as intelligent is something that Kiyoomi absolutely must have.

He can’t tolerate a ditzy partner, finding himself growing too irritated to stand being around them. Instead, he needs a darling that’s quick-witted, perhaps even snarky like him to match his wit and challenge him intellectually.

Despite what proves to be a distinctly possessive and controlling edge in his relationship with his darling, he does truly find their intellect and ability to think for themselves wildly attractive.

(He limits this, of course, feeling that his thoughts and feelings are ever so slightly better for his darling’s wellbeing, but it’s still a significant source of where his attraction is stemming from.)

And because Kiyoomi needs to have been friends with his darling for a significant period of time before his infatuation fully settles in, his darling needs to be smart enough for him to feel like they’re an equal in a platonic, friendship-based setting.

They don’t need to be a genius, but Kiyoomi respects those who are inquisitive and able to foster a healthy curiosity about the world around them. It’s sweet, and while he’s never given much thought to having kids (because while he feels he’d be a decent father, he’s not sure if he could handle having such disgusting things latching onto his leg or drooling over his shoulder), the mother of his children absolutely must have a good sense of judgement and wits about her.

It’s just so appealing to him, and even as his obsession festers and grows, eventually trapping his darling away, he still expects to see that fire in their eyes, loving the way they seem to understand what he’s thinking without him even needing to say it.

Flexible

Because Kiyoomi is so particular, in order to develop a friendship with him, his darling needs to be flexible. They need to be able to understand his preferences, and understand that he’s moody.

A stubborn darling that butts heads with him will only lead to Kiyoomi growing frustrated, and instead he’d prefer someone who’s more complacent with his own desires. It’s a trait that Kiyoomi is a bit embarrassed to say he finds attractive, if only because it’s an admission of knowing that he can be difficult to be around, but the comfort that his darling provides for him in this aspect is one that makes his feelings grow exponentially.

He wants to feel comfortable and cared for in their presence, and a darling that’s willing to do whatever he would prefer not only soothes his anxieties, but it spoils him in a way that makes his heart flutter, his cheeks blooming ever so slightly pink and his palms clamming up a bit.

It’s just so very sweet, and it leaves him feeling only more eager to be in their presence, desperate to spend every waking moment he can with them.

And as his infatuation continues, this is a key trait that allows his feelings to fester and grow to the degree of feeling constantly on edge without his darling in his sight.

He’s able to insert himself into their life more easily this way, able to control every aspect of their life, keep them away from potential suitors, keep them looking at him and him only.

Clean

This one isn’t as imperative, but similarly to matching his intellect, Kiyoomi appreciates a partner who’s naturally cleaner. He’s comforted by the knowledge that his darling isn’t dirty, that when he gets brave enough to reach out and oh so carefully, hesitantly run his fingertips over the soft skin of their palm, that they’ve washed their hands recently.

He likes knowing that the wonderful, lovely scent of their hair is a mixture of their natural scent and shampoo, making his eyes roll to the back of his head because he just wants to keep inhaling and inhaling, breathing in as deeply as humanly possible to consume as much of them as he can.

There’s this subtle sense of pride that settles into his chest when he enter their apartment for the first time, pleased to see the way their living-space reflects his own – perhaps with elements of their personality, maybe more colors or patterns or photographs of friends and family, but it’s almost too easy to see himself pulling his darling into his side on the spotless sofa sitting in their living room.

It’s disturbingly easy to fantasize about pulling the covers of their well-made bed over his head, black curls brushing against his darling’s navel as he travels lower and lower, listening to their gasps and moans as he greedily laps at the spot between their freshly washed legs.

It’s just reassuring, and it only pushes his obsession deeper because he takes it as yet another sign that he and his darling are entirely compatible, a perfect match that he’d be a fool to let go.

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Gradual

Despite his status as an internationally known professional athlete, Kiyoomi’s habits haven’t changed much since his youth. He’s still not especially interested in any sort of romantic relationship – he’s picky, incredibly so, and it takes him an extremely long time to feel comfortable enough with someone to actually be willing to be open and vulnerable with them.

(Particularly in the context of anything intimate – he needs to be very, very comfortable with them to reach the point where he’d willingly kiss them, touch them, or, god forbid, be inside of them.)

He’s not fully against the idea, but he’s realistic enough to know that he’d be a hard partner to please, and he just isn’t all that interested in finding someone. He’s got his career to worry about, and with all the traveling he does and his own personal idiosyncrasies, it would just be easier to not have a significant other.

And frankly, this mentality sticks with him – you have to have known Kiyoomi for quite some time before he develops feelings for you. At the absolute minimum, he must’ve been truly friendly with you for three years; that way, he can solidly say he finds you tolerable, that you’re acceptably clean, not too annoying, someone he doesn’t hate being around.

And even once his feelings begin forming, it’s a slow process – he doesn’t just suddenly wake up and decide that he’s in love with you. No, it’s much more gradual, much more subtle – he doesn’t even know it’s happening until it’s too late, after all.

It starts off as little things that he notices; a new haircut of yours (it was just a trim, something small and something even you had difficulty noticing) that he comments on absentmindedly, telling you it looks nice, this hairstylist is much better than the last one.

He’ll notice that you’ve changed your style a bit; maybe you bought a new pair of pants and you’re a little nervous about wearing them because they’re cute, but it’s a new color or a new cut or just a little bit outside your comfort zone. (He’ll blink and stare when you settle into the other chair at the café, your nerves getting the better of you as you ask what he’s staring at, only to get the rather flat response are your pants new? I like them.)

He's always been observant, noticing little things about you, but normally they’re things about your personality, or things about your likes or dislikes. He knows your favorite ice cream flavor, and which brands to avoid when he’s buying you some for your biweekly movie night (something you had to beg him to start, but now he finds himself looking forward to – enough that he’s counting down the minutes in practice that day, dark eyes glancing at the clock every few minutes and sighing lightly at how slowly time is moving).

He’s always known you were a bit of a klutz, and that your spatial awareness leaves a lot to be desired, just because he knows you. You’re tight friends, after all. But lately the things he’s been noticing are less platonic and less general, and more relating to your looks.

He’s never noticed that you have a fleck of another color in your eyes – it’s pretty, and when you turn your head just right in the sunlight, it makes your eyes glow.

He’s never noticed that you fill out your clothing very well; he’s gotten teased for spending so much time with you, sure, Hinata or Atsumu’s dramatic assertions about how the two of you must be more than friends always making him scoff and roll his eyes, disgusted by the implications. But now he finds himself wondering, late at night, with guilt gnawing at him, what it would be like to actually undergo those implications – being physical with you, that is.

His gaze is lingering on your pants a little more than usual, dark eyes staring just a hair too long at your ass, the jeans tight and accentuating every curve you have.

He’ll force himself to stop thinking about it, wondering where the hell that thought had sprung up from, rolling over in bed and shutting his eyes tightly, praying for sleep to come and for the images of the few, accidental times he’d seen you in your bra to stop flashing through his mind.

He notices that his thoughts towards you are changing a bit, but he tries not to think about it. You’re friends – aside from Komori and his teammates, you’re his closest companion, and developing feelings for you would ruin the fragile thing you have. Except his denial of his feelings doesn’t magically make them go away – he’s noticing how often he touches you, without even consciously realizing it. When you hand him some cash to repay him for some snacks he bought you, your fingers brush against his, and he actually freezes when he feels it.

(Your hands are so fucking soft – not hard and calloused like his, not rough and scratchy from years of smacking rock hard volleyballs.)

He never realized that he unconsciously let his hand rest on the small of your back when you guided him through crowds, trying to find the shortest route to minimize his discomfort. (He’d always liked that about you – your acceptance of his dislike of large crowds and germs, never making him feel weird or like a freak for it. You’d even shared an irrational fear or disgust of your own, just to make him feel better – it didn’t, but he appreciated the sentiment.)

Small things begin compiling up for Kiyoomi – things he’d never really noticed or thought about before, but now seem to be at the forefront of his mind. And yet, he still represses his feelings – no, he doesn’t want a girlfriend, and if he acknowledges his feelings for you, he'll want to push your relationship in that direction, to not suffer in silence because he wants more more more.

And yet, as time passes, Kiyoomi finds that he simply can’t not acknowledge what he’s feeling – it’s too much, too strong for him to ignore. His heart physically aches when he’s not around you, his mind racing and whirring with thoughts of what you’re doing, how you’re feeling, who you’re with, if you’re thinking of him.

It’s overwhelming, and it gets to the point where Kiyoomi literally cannot function without recognizing just how far gone his feelings for you are – it's effecting his playing, his relationships with his teammate, his eating habits, even his sleeping. You’re just too all-encompassing, his feelings to fucking intense – intense enough to leave him staring at his ceiling night after night, the bright screen of his phone illuminating his bedroom as he scrolls through photo after photo after photo of you.

Always you.

Possessive

Kiyoomi’s feelings, while strong and nauseating and so, so very good, really end up intensifying to an unbearable level from a single, main cause – he absolutely cannot stand watching you interact with other men.

He can’t repress the way jealousy claws at his throat, making his mouth taste sour and his gut twist because who the fuck is that man you’re talking to?

All it takes is one instance of a man flirting with you while Kiyoomi is present for these feelings to spark up – frankly, he's shocked that the man had the gall to approach you when you’re with someone as famous and handsome as Kiyoomi Sakusa, but perhaps he’d only felt confident enough because you were smiling at this stranger, standing close to him, laughing at a joke.

His fists clench up, dark brows drawing tight as he watches, the bustling café too loud for him to pick out exactly what’s being said. Seeing the way another man looks at you makes his gut sink, and even once you return back to him (with the food you’d ordered for both of you, since you know how much he hates talking to strangers), he can’t shake off his sour mood. From that moment forward, Kiyoomi is forced to confront his feelings – specifically, the ugly, twisting mess of emotions he feels whenever you’re around another man.

He grows possessive of you remarkably fast, hating when your attention strays from him, particularly if the new target is another person. Another man, really. It makes all these insecurities begin sprouting up in his chest – things he thought he’d long moved past, doubts and self-criticisms that make him feel weak, helpless, pathetic.

When he sees you catch eye contact with the man passing you on the sidewalk, your smile and small good morning makes him think about whether this stranger can stand being in a crowd for longer than three minutes. (He probably can, something Kiyoomi can’t – this man could take you to all those concerts you talk about, and he could take you to fun amusement parks and be in the crowd at sporting events and museums and all sorts of things that Kiyoomi can’t.)

When he sees you laugh and apologize to the man you nearly ran over with your shopping cart in the grocery store, Kiyoomi can’t help but notice how easily the man’s smile comes, his entire aura radiating positivity and happiness, the little tease and joke he makes in response to your apology making Kiyoomi’s hair bristle, unease sitting in his chest because no matter how hard he tries, he just can’t be so carefree and socially comfortable.

(Would you prefer someone more confident and natural in social settings, someone who can make you laugh so easily and introduce himself to strangers, shaking their hand and telling them with any sort of honesty that it’s nice to meet them? Kiyoomi hopes not, please be no.)

He grows pessimistic at the prospect of you interacting with others, because Kiyoomi recognizes that he probably isn’t your type. It makes him feel insecure, worthless, ugly, but more than anything it makes him panic, his fingers shaking and his knee bouncing because he absolutely cannot allow another man to come along and sweep you off your feet.

He needs to do something – and do it quickly, because you’re beautiful and gorgeous and funny and sweet and smart and so fucking perfect, and surely another man will realize that soon and you’ll be gone forever, all while he’s left to watch and stand by, forever regretting that he let this happen. And so, Kiyoomi decides that his only option is to try and limit your time with other men – meaning, he needs to monopolize more of your time, keep you with him, your company limited to only your family, coworkers, and him.

It’s the only way – and while he’s never been particularly subtle about anything, even you will be shocked at how blatantly he acts on this desire.

He's calling you up more, sending texts with flying fingers asking if you’re busy tonight, if you’d like to move your movie night up a few days, if you’d like to go get lunch at the ramen shop Bokuto won’t shut up about, if you’d like to stay the weekend with him at the VRBO he’d already rented on a beautiful little lake.

(He won’t tell you he’d chosen that one specifically because there was both a lake and a hot tub present, meaning he’d get to see you in your swimsuit hopefully more than once, but still.)

He becomes desperate to get your attention solely on him, and while you’ll be surprised, you won’t give it too much thought. Kiyoomi’s always been a little strange, and if he wants to further your friendship, you wouldn’t put up a fight.

But then he’s also scowling when you bring up the name of any other man, even when you’re alone – talking about any of your friends or any of his teammates gets him clenching his fist so hard his perfectly manicured nails dig into his palms, sometimes even pressing hard enough to draw blood.

You’ll notice his discomfort, the way he tenses up, how his voice gets terse and he talks less than normal, and when you ask him about it, he’ll only bite out an I don’t want to talk about another man with you. It’s cryptic, kind of, and it’ll take you aback, but you’ll respect his wishes, mentally noting how odd his behavior is.

And really, that’s how it’ll all progress – you’ll write off Kiyoomi’s strange, possessive behavior, which only makes him further push the envelope, not allowing you to talk about another man in his presence, or even look at them or stand close to one. It’s too much, and it’ll make you uncomfortable, but Kiyoomi’s too far gone.

And frankly, before you pluck up the courage to actually seriously confront him about it, it’s too late – your mouth is already being covered with the chloroform rag, your body going limp and landing in his arms, the sound of him deeply inhaling next to your hair and the low whimper he lets out making you dread when you’ll awaken even more.

He just wants your attention on him, and even more than that, he can’t accept the idea of you leaving him – you’re close, you’re friends, even though the word makes him spit, and he won’t let you leave him. You aren’t allowed to, he won’t let you. So don’t even bother trying.

Controlling

Tying into his more possessive traits, Kiyoomi slowly begins morphing into someone you hardly know.

He becomes blinded by his obsession with you, allowing himself to become more and more omnipresent in your life, worming his way into every little aspect of the way you live, from who you spend your time with to the clothing you wear. Though he’s not particularly subtle, the beginnings of his more controlling behavior will actually spark up long before he realizes how he feels for you.

Much before he’s come to the conclusion that he wouldn’t mind waking up with you wrapped in his arms every morning, he’s telling you that you really should consider waking up at a more reasonable time. It doesn’t matter if you’re a chronic oversleeper, or if you rise with the sun every morning – you’re always doing something wrong, really, and Kiyoomi will point it out to you.

(This is done in a genuine effort to get you to healthier, though. It doesn’t really feel like it when he’s criticizing you for your lack or overindulgence in sleep, his words snarky and cutting, but the motivation behind his prodding into your sleep schedule is to make sure that your body is getting the appropriate amount of rest. To make sure that you’re taking care of yourself, really – because Kiyoomi simply doesn’t trust that you know how.)

Long before he realizes that he wants to press kisses against the column of your throat and feel your soft, warm pulse underneath his lips, Kiyoomi recognizes that you don’t take perfect care of your skin. You could always use a better moisturizer, a better toner, take more time in the mornings and evening to make sure your skin is glassy and smooth and soft.

(He won’t insinuate that you’re ugly, of course, because Kiyoomi is many things but not a liar. But that doesn’t mean he won’t make comments about how he thinks you’ve gotten more pimples recently because your creams are expired, dropping skincare recommendations on you unsolicited and without batting an eye. And when they arrive on your doorstep the next day, shipped with the fastest service possible that you know costs nearly double the regular speed, you can’t even truly get mad at Kiyoomi – after all, his skin is perfect, and maybe he does know more about skin care than you do. The least you could do is try the new products, right? It would be rude not to.)

He’s always been a bit controlling about how he wants things done, but where you’re concerned this is only amplified – it’s a response to caring about you more than anything. He loves you, feels such deep, horrible yearning for you that he feels he must have a say in your life. He’s a successful man, with the last puzzle piece of his life missing being a sweet, loving wife who dotes on him and he on her in return.

And perhaps it’s a coping mechanism to make up for all the years of feeling ostracized, having minimal friends and even less romantic pursuits, finding himself suddenly feeling the pressure to make sure that everything is absolutely perfect because can’t fuck up what he has with you.

He’s become too dependent, too reliant on your presence in his life, and he becomes all-consumed and paranoid at the thought of accidentally doing something to dissuade you from wanting to spend time with him. He won’t change himself for you (or, at least, not too drastically – just enough to keep you interested in him, just enough to keep you in his life), but Kiyoomi is putting every possible effort into making sure that everything goes according to plan.

Expensive dinners are meticulously analyzed, dark brows furrowing at each potential obstacle as he mentally rehearses for the date.

(He’ll order to smoked fish fillet, and you’ll have either the pasta or maybe the salad. But wait. Is it rude to recommend the salad to you? Would you perceive it as a comment on your weight? He wants to see you eating more vegetables, but he doesn’t want you to think he finds your body displeasing – absolutely not, not when he spends most mornings with a hand pressed against the shower wall, water mixing with sweat and dribbling down the curves of his back, other hand feverishly pulling and tugging at his cock, your name slipping between his lips like some sort of prayer.)

He's planning out who will attend your wedding, the seating arrangements, the colors and flower choices, even what your dress will look like and how you’ll style your hair. (It sounds sweet, really – except that it isn’t, because if things don’t go exactly how he’s expecting them to, Kiyoomi will panic, worry eating away at him because no no no! Everything needs to go according to plan, otherwise things will fall apart and you’ll look at him with disappointment and just the thought is making it hard to breath and he needs to see you right now and reach out and touch you and hear you say his name fuck fuck fuck -)

He becomes overly concerned with every little behavior that you exhibit, always making a comment on this or that, his eagerness for your approval (and your obedience) making it difficult for him to notice the way you roll your eyes or how you hesitate, slightly offended at the way he tells you to stop eating like you’re poor, chew slower.

Everything is done with the intent of trying to better your relationship, to make sure the two of you are as compatible as possible, but the execution will leave you often times feeling as if he’s purposefully belittling you, your irritation and anger growing but then tapering out when he looks at you with those eyes.

It’s hard to stay mad when you’re nearly his only friend, the authenticity in his voice when he says that he loves you making it hard to stay mad at one of your closest friends. Just don’t say that – it’ll have his eye twitching, something ugly clawing at his chest because in what fucking world are you two just friends?

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

As a general rule, Kiyoomi does not handle jealousy well. He’s always been an envious person, but once his attachment to you forms and he becomes aware of just how badly he needs you – both emotionally and physically – his jealousy only increases, his intolerance of other people greedily sucking up your time lowering monumentally.

Because really, that’s what it is, isn’t it?

Other people – worthless, unknown, people who don’t even really know you like he does – wanting your time and attention all for their own selfish, gluttonous desires. It’s disgusting, frankly, how these people think they have any right to see your smile, to hear your voice, to feel your hand brushing against their own when you’re handing something to them.

(And oh, what an experience that is – Kiyoomi’s entire body stiffens up when he feels your skin against his, his mouth feeling dry and his pupils dilating because god, you’re so soft and warm and he’s never felt this urge before – the urge to reach out and take more, to keep touching you and feel his way up your arm, to press against the curving bones of your collarbone, to thumb over the plains of your ribcage, to take a handful and squeeze what he’s sure are two very, very soft and supple breasts… Just the thought has him breathing heavily, staring at you with this look that makes your skin crawl ever so slightly, the intensity and the concentration nearly scaring you.)

His possessive streak is bad enough that he finds himself actively seeking out men who may be interested in you when he’s in public with you – you’ll be happily chatting away, animatedly waving your arms as you tell him about the latest episode of your show you’ve been watching, and while he wants to be listening, to give you his full, undivided attention and watch the way your mouth moves when you speak, how your eyes light up, hear how you occasionally say his name, the lilting Ki-yoo-mi making his knees weak, he can’t focus.

Instead, he’s glancing around the cafe you’re sitting in, mentally noting every man and what they’re doing – there’s a brunette in the corner with his laptop open, what looks like email after email being fired off with rapt, quick fingers flying over his keyboard.

An irrational pang of fear shoots through Kiyoomi – do you ever receive emails at such a rapid pace? How often do men email you, and is truly as professional as you claim? How well do you know the mind of a man looking at you as nothing more than a walking pussy?

Another man is sitting near the fireplace, his phone in hand a scowl sitting across his features. He’s practically yelling into the receiver, telling off what Kiyoomi presumes to be his secretary because of some misplaced papers. Kiyoomi winces, grinding his teeth and clutching onto his coffee cup tighter because has any man ever yelled at you like that? Have you ever been screamed at, wrongfully blamed for something, or have you ever cried because of some horrible, lousy man?

(Kiyoomi isn’t a particularly violent person, but the mental imagery of leaving the man’s face purple and blue makes something warm and fuzzy and good settle in his chest, a sense of satisfaction and a rush of adrenaline nearly making him dizzy.)

Even the cashier has Kiyoomi on edge – he’s smiling like an idiot, greeting each customer with that infuriating, chipper tone of his, and it’s immediately making your coffee partner irritated, wondering with only the smallest big of insecurity whether you’d like that more – someone more outgoing, someone more friendly, someone less difficult than him.

Every time he's with you, the constant feeling of sizing up the other men in the vicinity is always weighing him down, the fear that you could potentially lose interest in him and instead develop an attraction to someone else leaving his paranoid and quite frankly scared – you wouldn’t leave him, would you? You wouldn’t abandon him, would you?

The thought is enough to make him guide you towards a less crowded area, back towards his apartment, back to where it’s just you and him – how it should be.

Kiyoomi knows he shouldn’t have let you talk him into coming to the supermarket. There’s a reason he pays for his groceries to be delivered to him – it’s too busy, too loud, too many unaware people walking around with no regard for personal space or respect. It’s irritating, really, but you’d been looking at him with those pearly eyes and fucking pouting, and how could he have possibly said no to that?

Not when you were saying his name with that low tone of yours, practically purring it, making it nearly impossible for him not to snap and tangle his fingers into your hair, to pull you as close as physically possible and suck hickey after hickey into the sensitive, delicate skin of your neck. He’d been a goner the moment you’d brought it up, and it’s only now, as he’s standing at your side in the bread aisle, that Kiyoomi feels the full regret of his decision.

After all, the rather attractive blond man at the end of the aisle certainly hasn’t slipped his notice – the man’s tall (though not as tall as Kiyoomi, of course), decently muscular (though Kiyoomi knows he has much more definition in his quads, the lines dancing along his thighs and calves drool-worthy compared to the stranger’s), and staring rather intently at the shelved loaves in front of him.

It makes Kiyoomi’s eye twitch; he’s purposefully placed himself between you and the stranger, hoping that this vantage point blocks as much of the man from your view as possible. You’re too engrossed in your selection process to really notice, Kiyoomi knows, but that doesn’t stop him from worrying, the nagging voice in the back of his head urging him to minimize your chances of even acknowledging this mildly attractive stranger.

He’s still got that familiar unimpressed look in those dark eyes (mixed with a touch of adoration as he watches you bite your lip and furrow your brows, the sight pulling at his heart and almost, almost making him forget all about his jealousy), and that look only darkens as he hears footsteps on the linoleum flooring behind him.

He moves closer to you, opening his mouth to tell you that you should just grab the nearest loaf and leave, but the man beats him to it. His voice is timid, scared, even, and for just a split second it leaves Kiyoomi feeling smug – for all this man’s physical attractiveness, surely you wouldn’t want such a meek, submissive man. Not when you could have someone like Kiyoomi – someone stronger, more masculine, more dominant, more of a man.

The man’s question is innocent, all things considered – he reaches towards the loaf of bread you’d already stashed away in your shopping cart, pointing a finger and asking where did you find that?

Immediately Kiyoomi’s stiff, every muscle in his body going taut because no matter how you react to the man’s question, he won’t like the result. Your mouth parts into an adorable little ‘o’ that gets Kiyoomi biting his lip, before you smile and point towards the opposite end of the aisle, answering with a chipper, oh-so-fucking-cute response of right down there!

Kiyoomi’s brows knit together as the man thanks you, moving forward to go in search of the loaf you’d guided him towards. As the man passes, those dark eyes settle on his figure, leaving him to pick up his pace, the heavy weight of Kiyoomi’s stare making him noticeably uncomfortable.

As soon as the man is out of earshot, Kiyoomi snatches your wrist, his grip tight and making you nearly wince, his other hand reaching out to grab the loaf you’d been eyeing. Come on, we’re leaving, is all he says, walking with purpose in the opposite direction of the man.

You’re out of the grocery store before you can blink, Kiyoomi slipping his credit card back into his wallet and guiding you towards his car. You’re confused, really, and as you blabber on about how he didn’t need to pay for your groceries and ask about what’s gotten into him, Kiyoomi can only usher you into the front seat, throwing the grocery bags into the trunk and taking a final glance around him. The man seems to still be in the store, and Kiyoomi clicks his tongue, a small pang of relief racing through him.

As he settles into the driver’s seat and puts the car into reverse, he glances over at you, soaking in the sight of you in his car with his old sweatshirt on. His lips quirk up at the edges, the smile small, before stepping onto the gas, driving away from the store and trying to forget the sight of your smile being aimed at someone else.

He grips the steering wheel hard, focusing on the sound of your voice to calm him – your voice saying thank you for the ride, Kiyoomi, you’re the best.

(A sound replaying over and over and over in his head later that night, with the too-bright screen illuminating your photographed face and casting shadows over his naked body covered in a light sheen of sweat. The best, huh?)

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

Really, as soon as Kiyoomi realized that his feelings for you were something so much deeper than he could ever imagine, he’d begun planning for your eventual relocation to his home. There’s a variety of reasons why he’s so eager, so insistent: it’s easier, and it makes more sense.

Because really, while Kiyoomi doesn’t want to steal you away, he doesn’t really have much of a choice, does he? You’re too independent for your own good – you’re always going out and doing things, seeing people, putting yourself in a position not only of meeting potential love interests, but also one of danger.

Kiyoomi rationally knows that you’re strong and can make informed decisions, but there’s a part of him that slowly grows to doubt your abilities. It’s not that you’re incapable, but more like you aren’t the most qualified to make choices about your own health and life.

And really, doesn’t it make more sense for him to guide you? Kiyoomi, who is successful, wealthy, the pinnacle of health and fitness, and much more calm and collected than you. Surely he knows better – and you’d agree, wouldn’t you?

You always seem to support his choices, laughing and telling him that he’s so predictable and logical whenever he rants about his teammates and general annoyances. You always sound so in awe of him, the praise and tone going directly to his head, making his palms feel a little clammy and his voice getting a little hoarse because oh, being seen and complimented by you feels very, very good.

And so really, it only makes sense that Kiyoomi steals you away – he’s already controlling, but he isn’t with you at all hours of the day, and can you really be trusted to be constantly making smart, responsible decisions every waking moment?

You don’t know what’s best for you, and in order to have you in peak health and keep you utterly, completely his, this is the only way. But to Kiyoomi’s credit, he gives you ample opportunity to willingly come to him. His attempts to ask you out are, objectively, not particularly romantic, but his requests for you to stay the night are met with little resistance from you.

It’s typical, after all, for you to stay over at his place in his spare bedroom after you’ve drunk just a bit too much, sleeping off the tipsiness because Kiyoomi will be damned before he lets you out on the road in the wrong state of mind.

(Not for the safety of others, of course – solely for you, because if you were to get injured or, god forbid, die, Kiyoomi genuinely thinks he may never recover, the pain and guilt of losing you driving his mad with grief. Besides, you look very, very enticing all tangled up in his spare sheets, your pretty body so scantily clad in the t-shirt he’d loaned you and a pair of workout shorts that ride very, very low on your hips. Enticing enough to have him standing in the doorframe of the room, entirely motionless as he watches you slumber, swallowing thickly and not letting his eyes drift from your form for sometimes hours on end, just watching and waiting.)

But then those requests to spend the night start happening more days out of the week than you’re comfortable with, happening multiple nights in a row, so much so that you’re starting to spend more time at Kiyoomi’s place than your own – and so when you start denying his requests, he resorts to one final tactic.

Of course, it doesn’t feel good to be unscrew a few things under your bathroom sink as he ‘uses the restroom’, but it’s necessary. When you call in a panic later that day about how your apartment is flooded and your landlord is furious over the water damage, Kiyoomi will try his best to be sympathetic, to not sound as flat and mildly pleased when he offers to let you crash at his place for a few days until it all gets sorted out. He’ll mess with your piping first, then your thermostat.

(He’ll tell you on the phone that losing your heating during the height of winter isn’t a joke, I don’t care how many blankets you have you’ll still freeze to death – and who’ll have to organize your funeral? Me, so don’t be selfish.)

Then he’ll go so far as to start stealing things out of your apartment – of course, he’s always been a bit heavyhanded in ‘borrowing’ your things (mostly inconsequential things that he knows you wouldn’t notice, like little knick-knacks or pairs of clean socks – things that make him feel more connected to you and are the perfect size to fit underneath his pillow at night, of course), but then he starts looting away more serious items. Your books go missing, your jewelry, cups from your cupboards, even going so far as to steal your laptop or your speakers or anything else he knows you’ll miss.

And when you’re running to him and telling him that someone’s targeting your apartment, that you’re feeling unsafe, that you think someone’s been repeatedly robbing you and breaking into your apartment, he'll only sigh and tell you that you’d be stupid to not live with him for a while, that you’re practically asking for death by staying in that tiny little thing you call an apartment for any longer.

And in the event that you’re still planning on living on your own after all these attempts to force your dependence on him, Kiyoomi will see no other option – having you live with him is like his own personal heaven, and he’ll be damned if he loses the feeling of falling asleep under the same roof as you, of hearing your pretty snores and seeing the peaceful expression on your face as you slumber.

You’re just too damn perfect, and so you really, really shouldn’t be too surprised when Kiyoomi’s got the rag held over your nose, his words cold in your ear as he tells you to stop struggling, you’re only making this harder. After all, he’s made himself perfectly clear – it’s not his fault you didn’t pick up on the signs.

As a captor, Kiyoomi retains a lot of his mannerisms from before stealing you away. He’s still a bit harsh with you, his tongue biting and cold, but the difference becomes that Kiyoomi doesn’t bother trying to hide the nature of his feelings anymore.

You’d been aware that his interest shifted from a more platonic to romantic nature sometime along the way, but now there’s absolutely no way to misinterpret his actions – not when he’s resorted to making you sit so close to him on the couch, those dark eyes expectant when you don’t immediately shuffle into his side. He’ll stare for a while, before sighing, like it’s all some big chore, then grabbing you and forcing you to practically sit in his lap, all the while grumbling about you being so damn difficult, aren’t women supposed to love cuddling?

He’s making you take all your meals with him, forcing you to sit at the modest wooden dining table, the rather bland meal of white rice, fish and a roasted, unseasoned vegetable looking less appetizing with every day.

(He won’t let you cook, however – his protective tendencies show most when it comes to you being in the kitchen, if only because he doesn’t trust you to not injure yourself. There’s just too many possibilities – you could cut yourself, burn yourself, use the cheese grater or the potato peeler to tear off a layer of skin, you could squeeze lemon juice into your eyes or get jalapeno residue at your waterline. There’s just too much that could happen, and while Kiyoomi would absolutely love to have you entirely dependent on him if you were to become injured, the idea of knowingly letting you hurt yourself makes something bitter tinge in his mouth, his legs getting restless and his fingers twitching because he needs to do something to prevent that from happening.)

He’s curating a wardrobe for you, making sure to dress you in his favorite colors, rich fabrics, comfortable designs, things that he thinks will make you happy but still fit his tastes. (And besides, you’ve always complimented him on his own fashion choices – surely you’d trust him on this too, right?) There’s lots of complimentary colors and designs to match his own clothing, enjoying the way you two look right when you’re together, a smile gracing his lips and prompting him to twirl a lock of your hair around his finger, bringing it up to his lips and letting his tongue dart out ever so quickly, just to catch a small taste of you.

He’s controlling, always dictating what you do, what your plan for the day is while he’s gone, but it’s always done with the intention of trying to keep you safe and what he hopes will make you happy.

He’s investing a large portion of his very generous salary to getting the best supplies of any hobbies you have (as long as they revolve around music, art, anything that couldn’t possibly hurt you), always demanding you show him the progress you’ve made that day. It’s a desire to get you to interact with him, but it also makes pride swim in his gut to know that you’re getting better using the things he bought for you.

(And perhaps, there’s even some small part of you that’s improving to impress him… Just the thought makes him gulp heavily, having to shift his pants ever so slightly because the idea of you wanting to impress him, to seek his approval, to make him happy gets him hot under the collar.)

Life will become very monotonous with him. It’s a routine, with any deviation planned out in advance, Kiyoomi finding comfort in the order and consistently. It helps quell the anxiety stirring in his gut when he’s away for tournaments or away-matches, his knee always anxiously bobbing as he imagines what you’re doing.

He’ll whip his phone out nearly ever five minutes, tapping into the multitude of cameras he has set up around the apartment just to keep an eye on you, visibly relaxing when he sees you tucked up into bed, stepping out of the shower, or even reading on the sofa.

(He’s harsher than normal when Hinata bounces up and asks what he’s looking at, his words dripping in an extra layer of venom as he tells his fellow spiker to get away from me, it’s a private matter. Because he’ll be damned if he lets anyone see you in any sort of intimate, raw way – you’re for his eyes only, and Kiyoomi would rather cut off his left hand than let the redhead get even a glimpse of you.)

Kiyoomi is omnipresent, a trace of him present in every aspect of your life, and while it’s exhausting, humiliating, enraging, you’ll eventually grow tired of trying to rebel. He’s a patient man, but you can only handle so many derogatory comments, so many failed escape attempts (he has the best, most up-to-date security measurements around the apartment, of course) before you decide it may be better to simply accept this as your new fate.

After all, Kiyoomi isn’t that bad, right? You’d been friends for years – you know he’s a good person, and perhaps this is just a lapse in his judgement. Maybe he’s not thinking clearly. Maybe he’ll lose interest in you, or decide that what he’s doing it wrong.

You’ll cling onto the hope, repeating the mantra over and over in your head, but by the fifth year of living under his lock and key with a baby nursing at your breast, it’ll be very, very difficult to pretend that this isn’t your reality.

So really, it’s in your best interest to just accept him, to accept this – you’ll be happier this way. He promises.

PUNISHMENTS:

In general, Kiyoomi is actually remarkably patient with you. Somewhere deep down, below all of the twisted, dark manifestations of his feelings, he does truly love you. And while his controlling behavior and the way he expects you to give him all of your time, attention, energy, and focus is exhausting and at times dehumanizing, Kiyoomi never truly wants to hurt you.

And as a result, it’s unlikely that he’ll ever lash out in a way more substantial than verbally. He’d never physically hurt you, as seeing you with even the slightest discoloration or bruise makes him near inconsolable, anger seeping into every part of his body because you absolutely cannot be hurt, not when he’s the one who’s supposed to be your perfect, caring, protective partner.

He won’t take away your basic rights, either – though, in all fairness, they’re effectively gone once he realizes the depth of his feelings for you. He forces you to spend all your time with him, share meals and wear the clothing that he picks out for you, and so aside from forcing himself to be present while you relieve yourself or perhaps feeding you with his own hands, there really aren’t too many personal rights that he could take away even if he wanted to.

Kiyoomi does have a tendency to be a bit mean when he gets frustrated or afraid, however. You’ve always known this about him – his snarky personality is what initially drew you to him as a friend, but there’s something more cutting and biting about the way it feels when he’s looking at you with a mix of such devotion and anger, the love pooling in those dark eyes scaring you even more than the way they crinkle at the edges, wrinkling dotting his forehead as he frowns and scoffs at you.

It’s hurtful, really, when he makes comments about things he knows you’re insecure about – perhaps your weight, your smile, your curves, your laugh, your intelligence, anything and everything because he needs to make you understand how you’re making him feel, how it hurts him just as much as it hurts you.

It’ll make your eyes sting, the venom in his voice enough to make you crumple in on yourself, and it’s only after Kiyoomi’s left and calmed down enough to breath normally again that he realizes just how truly devastated his comments make you. He’s softer, after that, approaching you with shaking hands and a tone that’s laced with something almost akin to fear, calling your name and pretending that it doesn’t slice through something soft and vulnerable and weak inside him when you flinch at his touch.

He’ll be kinder after that, spoiling you with your favorite foods (even the unhealthy ones, which would normally never be available to you, what with Kiyoomi’s obsession with keeping your diet squeaky clean), watching hours upon hours of your favorite movies and shows, even material purchases of new clothing and expensive jewelry.

It’s not enough to truly make you feel better, but as time passes and the realization that Kiyoomi is truly all you have in this lonely penthouse apartment of his, you’ll grow to appreciate it, even if his words still echo in your head.

But really, what primarily sets Kiyoomi off is your disobedience – his controlling tendencies are so ingrained into him by the time that he’s stolen you away permanently into his home that he simply cannot handle when you aren’t utterly compliant with his every whim and wish.

In his fantasies of you living with him and staying by his side, fueled by possessive need, you’re always so eager to please, doing anything and everything you can to make Kiyoomi happy. And when you contrast this idealized version of your behavior, it’s a rude awakening for him that you aren’t truly happy with him yet, that things aren’t as perfect as he wants them to be. And so, as a defense mechanism he lashes out, spitting out words and lies that make both of your hearts hurt.

But truly, what really warrants the term ‘punishment’ is what happens when something even bigger happens – when you hurt yourself. It doesn’t even have to be purposeful; it still results in utter, blind panic consuming him, his heart racing in his chest and a cold sweat dripping at his brow because you’ve somehow managed to cut your thumb while he was at practice.

It makes him see red, desperation tinging his movements, making his hands tremble and his feet practically flying as he rushes you into the bathroom, applying too many anti-bacterials and wrapping your thumb tightly enough to nearly cut off the circulation. It’s pure, unadulterated dread that seeps into his bones, a panic like he’s never felt before, and this leads to the most extreme reaction Kiyoomi will have to your behavior – that is, he doesn’t like slipping the pill into your food, but your body needs time to rest. You need time to rest. He needs time to simply hold your limp, unconscious body in his arms, clutching onto you like a lifeline and pressing you as tightly against his body as possible just to prove to himself that you’re here, that you’re alive, that you haven’t left him.

Kiyoomi doesn’t necessarily like drugging you, but it’s the only way to keep you from hurting yourself again for the next day or so, the only way to make sure you don’t have a repeat offense.

You hadn’t meant it – really, you swear you hadn’t – when you’d left the shower curtain a little too open. The water wasn’t supposed to be splashing out and leaving a puddle directly outside of the tub.

You know how Kiyoomi gets – irritated by the mess, those dark eyes clouding and frustration settling across his features because you’re so damn clumsy, can’t you notice when the shower curtain’s wide open? As you glanced at the clock sitting against the stark white walls of the bathroom, you bit your lip. He would be home any minute now from practice, surely needing to be in the exact space you currently were, aching to get every bit of sweat off his skin.

The towel clutched in your hand wasn’t absorbing as much as you needed it to, the gray already turned a dark, near black color despite how much water was left on the tiled ground. Cursing, you sat back on your heels, resigning yourself to needing to dirty another one and having to deal with Kiyoomi’s multitude of questions.

But as you shifted your weight, hands braced against your thighs to sit up, the sudden impact of the back of your head against the edge of the marbled countertop make you cry out, the stinging sensation followed by a dull thud making you collapse down. Clutching at the injured area, tears pricked at your lashes, body curling up into a feeble position despite the water now absorbing into the freshly clean clothing you’d just changed into.

Your vision was hazy, everything looking warped and bent, and you only very distantly hear the sound of the multitude of locks on the front door opening, Kiyoomi’s grumpy I’m home resounding through the apartment. His footsteps are heavy as he wanders through the rooms, slowly growing in speed and weight as he begins worrying, unable to find you.

But you do hear when he gets to the bathroom doorway, wide gaze catching sight of your curled-up form and the slew of curses falling past his lips as he immediately drops his bag and stumbles down to you. You’re clutching your head and through your bleary eyes you can see the way all color has drained from his face, eyes blown wide.

He doesn’t bother asking what happened as he scoops you into his arms, adrenaline coursing through him and forcing him to run through the apartment to your shared bed, settling you down as gracefully as possible. Before you can orient yourself he’s already pressing cold cloths against your scalp, shoving thermometers into your mouth and compulsively checking your pulse points, terror still running through him.

He’s muttering under his breath, what sounds like your name mixed with mantras of she’s okay, she’s okay, she’s okay, though it sounds less like a statement and more like a hope.

It doesn’t take long for you to slip into unconsciousness, only being awoken a while later by Kiyoomi’s thumb stroking at your cheek, his eyes red and watershot, as if he’d been crying. Drink this, he tells you, holding a glass of what looks like water out to you.

When you don’t move, he grimaces. Please.

Your sips are slow, your head feeling like cotton, and Kiyoomi watches with baited breath, a hand still placed high on your thigh over the covers of your shared bed.

Those dark eyes are still fixed on you as you lean back, sudden exhaustion rolling through you, your own eyes fluttering closed once more. It’s hard to tell how long you’ve been out once you wake up, but it’s early morning now, from the looks of the barred window, and as you slowly come back to consciousness, trying to ignore the sharp pain in your head, you notice Kiyoomi standing at the end of the bed, seeming to loom over you.

He doesn’t say much, only rushing forward to grasp at your hand and once more check your pulse, sighing with relief when it comes back steady and normal. He doesn’t let go for a long time, still silently staring, watching the way you squirm and wince as your headache throbs. And when you eventually wander out of the room that night to see him making dinner, you won’t bother asking why the calendar shows that two days have passed, nor why there seems to be a thick rubber padding on every desk, table, and counter corner you see. It’s not worth it, really, because you already know the answer.

And as Kiyoomi spots you, the small smile that spreads across his lips makes your skin crawl, your thighs shifting weight as the lacy panties you know you didn’t have on previously tickle against your skin.

Sit down, love, dinner is ready.

And he can only smile when you do, something flickering in his heart at the sight of you looking at him with wide eyes, all confused and pretty and so very pliable. Sure, your concussion is no small injury, but the way you’d been sleeping so soundly in his bed, the smallest snores slipping past your lips and your body seeming to mold against his when he’d pulled you against his chest made him almost grateful for your clumsiness.

Stupid girl, he chides to himself. This is why you need me, can’t you see?

OVERALL DANGER:

8/10

While Kiyoomi himself isn’t inherently dangerous, what makes him such an intense yandere is his blatant disregard for hiding his feelings from you. He doesn’t care whether you see how deeply obsessed with you he is, whether you become aware that he wants nothing more than to keep you with him forever and ever.

Kiyoomi is resourceful and follows through with his plans and goals, so once you’ve gotten his attention, you can kiss any ounce of freedom goodbye. He’s controlling and possessive, and it’ll almost feel like you aren’t even yourself anymore, but Kiyoomi will always be there - looking down at you with an impossible to read expression, before a small flush will coat his cheeks and he’ll gently flick your forehead, telling you that he loves you and that he’s happy to have you with him, where you belong.

Of course, it’s not like you have a choice in the matter, but there’s something deliciously pleasant about pretending that you want to be here, something that makes his heart race and blood rush to both his cheeks and between his legs.

Kiyoomi is a tricky case, because your initial friendship with him and the odd charm of his strange idiosyncrasies will leave you naively blind to the way he slowly devolves into a deeper and deeper state of obsession. You can’t see the way he begins losing himself, all his time and focus beginning to shift only to you, and by the time you truly realize just how far gone he is, it’s too late to get away from him.

Because Kiyoomi has thought of absolutely everything – it’s practically impossible to get away from him, and really, can you so easily disregard years of friendship once the warning signs become clear? Are you so inhuman and cold as to pull away from your closest friend once he starts acting strange?

Perhaps you’re the crazy one here – a sentiment that Kiyoomi will only encourage if it means getting you to touch him, if it means you saying yes to spending the night at his apartment, if it means you say yes when he tells you that pregnancy would suit you.

But really, it doesn’t matter – after all, you’re Kiyoomi’s now, and absolutely nothing will change that.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere sakusa #yandere kiyoomi sakusa #_haikyuu #_kiyoomi sakusa #_lee's profiles

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thelastairsimblr · 9 months ago

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Family Pack #4

I’m happy to share some sims with you all today! In this post, you’ll find 12 households (40 sims total), each with their own stories and biographies. All of these sims have additional Everyday outfits, skills, bonus traits, Likes and Dislikes, sexual orientations, pronouns, family dynamics, and Lifestyles. You can find them all on the gallery under my Origin ID: TheLastAirSimmer or in the tray files linked under the cut! As always, feel free to tag me if you end up using them.

Abreu

A respected food critic, Maria’s opinion is highly valued by all as the towns’ baked good connoisseur. Her husband Joaquin, a renowned pianist, is no exception; he worships the ground she walks on. Together, they project their creative outlooks onto their sons. Santiago, the eldest and a romantic, has the full support of his parents and wants to become a professional wedding photographer. Even though young Rémy feels he didn’t inherit his parents’ imagination, he still wants to make them proud.

Naval

Aparna owned her own restaurant while raising her two girls alone. Hema was able to help out when she was old enough, allowing Aparna to find success and receive critical acclaim by publishing her own cookbook. Today, Hema is focusing on her engineering studies while trying to find love; she’s very smart and sincere, but a bit naive. Ridhi is chasing a riskier path; she wants to be a famous musician. And while Aparna hopes that this is just a phase, she supports her youngest daughter anyway.

Monaghan

As young parents, Stefan and Marianne sacrificed a lot. Stefan became a cop to support his family, but still gets caught up trying to relive his youth from time to time. Marianne longs for the day that she can quit her job at the local diner and become a singer. Soren feels pressure to please his parents, but really just want to play videogames all day while Tatum and Aria constantly bicker, not at all concerned with their parents’ feelings or the wellbeing of Hunter, who just wants attention.

Larson

Quite the jazz singer in his day, Clive is desperate to find ways to stay relevant in the ever-changing music scene. Fiona, longing for the authentic soul who serenaded her years ago, knows she can inspire him again; she’s stood by him through a lot. But until then, you can find the melancholy art critic drinking to yesteryear at the bar. Jade dropped out of college to pursue a career in social media (much to Fiona’s discontent) while Candice is following the artistic path her parents paved.

Agawa

Ever the class clown, Yuto knew that he had a knack for entertaining people. This was only confirmed after he went viral on Social Bunny for the first time! When he told his parents that he wanted to pursue a life in the public eye, they saw it as further evidence that he couldn’t take anything seriously. He makes a decent living streaming video games and his eccentric personality is pure internet gold. Though to be fair, he should probably be a bit cautious with what he says and does online.

Hollifield

As a teen, Whitney’s future looked bright. But she forfeited a lot of opportunities to pursue a whirlwind romance with a boy who had a dangerous edge. They were happy for a time, but it didn’t last and the only thing she kept from that relationship was her daughter Emma. She now works a lowly job in fast food while taking classes at Britechester, hoping to find a career in social media. Her days are busier as a working single mom, but Emma keeps herself entertained by befriending her neighbors.

Catton

Following the loss of her son to avoidable circumstances, Dottie found herself in the care of his two children. Filled with regret for not doing more for her son, the college professor watches the kids like a hawk! She’s keen on using her connections to better their lives. Temperamental Owen does well to make her proud with his grades, but he has an artsy side that he only shares with those closest to him. His little sister Bonnie would rather spend time making friends than studying though.

Qian

After founding a groundbreaking app, Shirong found a place among the company of the rich and powerful. His charming wife Meifing, quite the schmoozer at elite parties, is constantly looking for funding for her next big venture (while also being the go-to-girl for all the neighborhood gossip). Nuo chose to move home after grad school to save money, but is ready to leave and start her own law firm. Her younger brother Haoyu adds to her restlessness by barraging her with his antics.

Sullivan

Atticus’ dad Clifford, a retired veteran, supported his sons’ musical dreams fully, having raised him alone after his wife died. While roaming the world, Atticus met Elisa; a fashion guru with a fiery disposition. The pair had three children and Clifford moved in to help with the newborn. Like her dad, Lydia also wants to be an artist (whether if it’s for her love for acting or a desire to be in the spotlight remains to be seen) while Malicia, afraid of being unseen, finds relief in her friends.

Kingsley-Ramirez

Jaime and Paxton met/moved in together before they could actually get to know each other, both having been new to the city at the time with zero connections. They found themselves compatible not only as roommates, but eventually boyfriends as well! Jaime always puts others before himself; it shows in the passion he has for social justice causes he advocates for. Meanwhile, Pax works a parttime job at a small coffee shop, but is intent on putting himself through school to become a veterinarian.

Tanaka-Murdock

Nigel and Shannon met at Foxbury and developed feelings for each other during study sessions. Though Nigel was the only one to graduate, he admires Shannon for making the decision that was right for her. He enjoys being the breadwinner while Shannon follows her artistic instincts, though he wishes he had his wife’s free spirit. Shannon is quite hard on herself and works tirelessly until she makes something she’s proud of while their son Kason, while a quick learner, really just wants to play.

Miyake

Even if he’s never been the most social person, Kenzo is a loyal and fierce friend to those lucky enough to make it into his circle. A patron of the sciences, he cares deeply about precision and perfection. However, when it comes to raising his son Akira, he wants the boy to follow his own path, even if it’s not exactly the one he would choose for himself. Akira seems to be doing just that; far more sociable than his father, he never fails to leave a lasting impression on anyone he meets.

#the sims 4 #TS4 #sims 4 #sims 4 cc free #sims dump #sim dump #sims 4 vanilla #family dump

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sterredem · 5 months ago

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enough for you

Lando norris x ex!Singer!reader

Face claim Olivia Rodrigo

Warning comparison, angst (not really), not proofread, spelling mistakes (as always)

Summary basically just the song enough for you

A/N no part 2. I really love this one. It’s a bit short but still one of my favs.

Don’t forget to repast and comments. And dead back is also welcome❤️💜

Twitter

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Real life

Y/n was miserable. That was to say the least.

While her relationship with Lando was at the beginning beautiful now it was… not. As the internet has seen she has changed herself. She begin to where make up. That was because she thought if she looked like the people he had dated before he would like her more. All that and all the hundreds of dollars spent on make up only for him to say he wasn’t the ‘compliment type’.

She also began reading his self-help books. That was because she wanted him to think she was smart- she was. That was besides the point, but she wanted her to seem intelligent in the things he read too.

Besides those things she did some things that he would like; she learned his coffee order, and how you can make. And she learned all his favourite songs. She now knew all of them by hard.

And still, with all that. He was an asshole. Sure he wasn’t mean but he could surtenly be nicer. Because while y/n did all those nice things, Lando just couldn’t get himself to appreciate it or acknowledge what she did.

And that is how she ended up here. Crying on the bathroom floor after she realised everything he did wrong. She realised it after seeing the comments left on her newest YouTube vlog. After that she also saw some twitter threads and then everything hit her. He was in the wrong, not her.

And she was done.

After a few hours of self pity she decided that it was time to get ready. What was she getting ready for you ask? A date with Lando…

Yeah maybe that wasn’t the best idea.

But she stood up and made herself look presentable. After waiting a few more minutes the doorbell rang and she walked to the door. There he stood. He looked good. But she knew what was to come. They greeted each other kind of awkwardly. They both knew that their relationship wasn’t the same as before.

They walked to his car and got to a restaurant where the date was.

That part of the date was alright. The part where it got wrong was when they both returned to the girls house. She invited him in and he took the invasion.

Once in and seated on the couch Lando began talking “Y/n I am so sorry to do this to you.” He began.

“Can you just get to the point?” The girl cut him off. She already had teary eyes.

“Alright. I want to break up. We just aren’t the same anymore. You are never satisfied with anything I do, and I just don’t love you anymore. I care about you as a friend, but not as a partner.” Lando said. It almost looked like he was trying to fake cry. But that happened more than once. Y/n had just accepted that he didn’t have much emotion for her once the 1 year mark passed. And that was 1 year ago.

Y/n was speechless. Well not really. But all what he had to say was ether insulting him, screaming at him or saying things she will regret. So she just waited till he soos something else. She knew that there will be something else. Thief relationship was more complicated to just leave because he ‘didn’t love her anymore’. She knew that.

“Y/n, say something. Please.” She didn’t. He repeated the sentence a few times. Every time he said it a bit louder. Until he was almost screaming. “Say something dammit! Be mad at me, scream at me, punch me. Anything! Just not silence.” Lando said. She had a suspicion why.

“Why Lando?” She whispered. Lando almost didn’t hear her. But he did. And he had a questioning look on his face.

“Why what?” He asked aloud. His voice a little softer than before.

“Why don’t you love me anymore? What is it? I know these is more to the story than you are saying.” She said. She was now talking aloud.

“I- Y/n. I am so sorry.” He said. He didn’t want to say it out loud. “I-“

“Just say it Lando! I deserve to know. You are breaking up with me. Just let me know why.” The girl said.

“Y/n. I don’t want to hurt you.” The boy said. She gave him a look. “Alright. I just- I haven’t loved you for some time. And so I just began talking to some people. And there was this girl- we didn’t do anything. But I have come to love her. I just- I am so sorry Y/n.”

That was the breaking point for the girl. She had a suspicion about it but him really saying it hurt. “Please just leave.” She said. She was now almost crying.

Lando took the hint and walked out of the room. He walked back with some paper towels for her and placed it on a table. “I will go home. I will bring your things at my house to your friend. Can you maybe packs a box with mine? You can just drop that off at mine when I am away on a racing weekend. I will put the keys of your house on the table by the front door.” Lando explained. With that he walked out of her house and placed the key on the table.

When she heard the door close she broke down. At this point she was filling crying. He found someone more exiting. All the things he had said hurt hear deep down. All she had ever wanted was to be enough for him.

Maybe she just wasn’t as interesting as all the girls before. But still- he couldn’t have cared less. She loved him more than she had ever loved someone else.

After a few more minutes of crying she stared thinking again. She didn’t want his sympathy she just wanted herself back.

She didn’t just broke her hard- he broke so much more.

She needed to think about something else. She first needed to poor her heart out and then get a distraction. But how could she do that best?

She had an idea. So she walked towards her music studio, grabbed her notebook and began writing. She sat there for a few hours. Writing, making melodies, recording voice notes and music notes. Until she almost had a whole song.

After that she called het best friend for a distraction. But not befit she had sent all the notes to her producer.

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Instagram

Liked by TaylorSwift and 4.836.836 others

Yourusername ‘Enough for you’ out now! This is a song that is very close to me. I wrote this song a time of my life where it felt like there was no hope. I hope that you will all love this song as much as I do💜

View all 206.835 comments

Taylorswift Amazing song💜

SabrinaCarpenter A real masterpiece

Y/f/n 💜💜

Charles_Leclerc Another banger Y/n!

LewisHamilton Great job Y/n👏

OscarPiastri Always a great song when it is an Y/n y/l/n song

Maxverstappen1 We do love the song as much as you💜

Carlossainz55 Isn’t that good waste?

User1 OMG SO GOOD!!

User2 SO THIS IS ABOUT LANDO??? I am now a Lando hater!

User3 OMG! There are so many drivers in the grid! I think Lando last almost all his on grid friends!

User4 BANGER

User5 💜💜💜💜💜

User6 THIS SONG IS JSYRBYSCEJSGENAUS

User7 WE LOVE IT💜💜

User8 I love how supportive her friends are (the singers and drivers)

User9 AAAAHHHH

User10 Do we maybe get moreee????

User11 YOU FOUND SOMEONE MORE EXITING

User12 THE NEXT SECOND YOU WHERE GONE

User13 This song really hits hard after a break up

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reptileyan · 2 months ago

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Transferrable Skills (naga x reader)

For Anyshiptober 🎃

Cw: breeding, dubcon, intox via venom, being shoved underwater, brief vomiting, bitching back and forth. I love this stupid naga he's a weird little obnoxious cunt

You do not like snakes, and you like them much less than usual today. Running isn't fun, it hurts and makes you louder, and you should have never tried to better yourself by hiking like some kind of nature loving idiot. Most people who love nature are smart and pack well and can read maps and research for warnings and this results in them surviving. Most hippies succeed in self betterment, and don't get hunted down by snakes that speak human language. You can decide whether or not this really happened later.

The quickmud is very inconvenient, and reminds you of that time you nearly died as a kid. You certainly haven't gotten any brighter, just less optimistic.

The snake is much bigger than you, hurriedly slithering up to the edge of the quickmud. It can smile very wide. Good contender for the villian of a children's movie, back when they were hot and interesting and irredeemable.

It preens before deigning to speak to you. You want to say shit that would get you cancelled on a snake version of the internet, as soon as you can think of anything that isn't a plea for help or screaming. It speaks with a drawl.

"Hi."

You sink another inch.

"Hi."

You fucking hate nature and you love concrete so much. What you wouldn't give for an Arby's parking lot.

It coils up and waits.

You don't like strategy games. You like naps. This is very far from napping. You sink a few more inches and develop an interest in playing along.

"You gonna let me drown?"

It smiles. Naga. Not a snake. Sort of a snake, but they're called Naga if they're this big and sentient. Very useful information.

"Yeah, probably."

"Cunt."

It spits when it laughs, coiling up on itself as its eyes water. You would be endeared were it not letting you die in mud.

It rubs its eyes. Its smile seems genuine, if condescending.

"You're funny!"

You hate. It. Here. You are going to stage a coup at whatever corporation has a lot of bulldozers, and then you will personally bulldoze every forest. You'll live in domes with fake air and fake everything and it'll be amazing.

"Yeah. I get that a lot. From children. Babies. Five year olds. Who think swear words are funny."

It studies you, sighing after the laughter leaves. It has soft, chubby cheeks. It looks huggable, not sleek and vicious. Cool. Fascinating. Your last thought is gonna be about snake lust.

"You have children?"

"No-can we have this conversation somewhere else?"

It has a stupid face, with stupid markings, moons and planets and freckle constellations, gold scales interrupting the cerulean. Its grin is back.

"Nope! I'm comfy here."

"Happy for you. Wouldn't want you to be uncomfy."

"Me either!" Chipper fucking bitch. "You were saying, about babies?"

You draw out your words. "Theeee otheeeer huuuumansssss payyyyy meeeeee-" you sink a bit and become more interested in hurrying "to babysit their kids sometimes a lot so they can do drugs will you PLEASE get me-"

"So you're useful!"

"Yeah, I bet that's a novel concept. Get me out."

It tilts its head. "What's a drug?"

You are unlocking new emotions that have no name, so you give them names. Rage two. Fear five. "You'll never know if i drown."

"Eh, there are other humans."

You blink. Then faceplant in the mud.

And just like that you're dragged ashore, into a nearby river, your face aggressively dunked into the water. It hisses and spits, eventually managing words.

"That mud is TOXIC, if you swallow too much you can DIE-what's wrong with you?!?! The other humans never get near here because it's a death trap-"

You cough, and vomit, and swipe deliriously up at it. "Are snake bitches scarce around here or something? Gotta resort to stray humans?"

You're shoved underwater, pinching at it until it pulls you back up, vomiting more river sludge and water. The hissing resumes as you're carried back to its den, deep underground, beneath walls you could never climb unassisted. You're stripped of your clothes and shoved into a hot spring, the reason the cave is so warm-it's huge, multiple chambers flow into each other.

"You said you were useful."

"I said I was useful to the humans who paid me, and then I elected to eat mud because i was bored of drowning."

It takes a deep breath. Lets it out slowly. "Do you remember why you were useful?"

"The mud tasted bad."

"You. Are. Useful. Because of this." It points at your tits. "And this." It flicks your cunt, hard. You yelp, draw back. It continues.

"Naga are rare."

"Aw man."

It grits its teeth. "I have no mate."

"Wonder why, you are so charming."

You dodge under the water, and manage to avoid the first strike. The second lands, and you're pulled ashore, the rocks scraping at you until you're held in the air.

"I want a mate. You know how to care for children."

"Human ones. Human. Do you know how biology-"

"No, I'm stupid. Of course I know there are differences, but you'll figure it out, because you have to."

"Great. So where are the kids?"

It looks at your eyes, squints, then bursts out laughing. "Guess I'm gonna roll the dice on having dumbasses like you. It's almost cute."

"I'm adorable." You pose in midair.

"You're crazy."

You nod solemnly. "Babies where?"

It carries you to a soft pile of... discarded clothing, leaves, blankets. "Humans leave shit behind."

"You're defo gonna eat me, huh?"

"Nah."

It grabs your head, tilts your neck, and bites. You feel floaty. Tired. Needy. You reach for the pretty, weird thing in front of you.

"Was-i-i wanna. Wanna nap ummm-oh hi! Like your colors!"

It rubs its snout against you. "That's better. Dummy. Thanks for getting lost. You've been super ungrateful though, i saved your life and you didn't even say thank you."

Your eyes tear up. "Mm sorry! That's not nice."

It nods and pulls you close, rolling onto its back. "I know baby, you were very mean."

Tears start to fall down your cheeks. "Din mean it, mm sorry, pretty, like you."

"That's good to hear. Don't tell yourself, but I like you too. Cute little squishy human. Well-fed like me."

You wiggle slightly and nod in agreement. "Mm squishy. Like you. Good?"

It pets your cheek, down your chest and stomach, weighing your belly in its hands. "Mmmhm. You know why?"

You think really hard. "Pillow?"

"No sweetheart. Although i'll take it under consideration. You're perfect for what I need, you'll be so cozy for my babies. You're gonna be their mommy and keep them safe growing in your fat little tummy, how does that sound?"

You brighten. "Good! Like babies! Cute an take care em. Even when they bite n throw up."

"Good little mama."

It rubs you against its bulging slit, groaning as its cock slips out and starts to force into you. You whine and squirm, but you want to be good! You want to have the babies it promised!

You make enough noise that it starts to worry. "Hey, if it's too much you gotta-"

You shriek as he starts to lift you off. "NO! No, want more, in please, want to be full, babies, yours, all warm!"

"Oh." It flushes, bright red, beautiful under the markings. You plant a messy kiss on its snout. "Mwah. Babies now. An harder please, so big, ss nice, better than toys."

It doesn't know what to say. It hugs you, tight, tearing up. "Thank you."

You nod sagely. "Im very good responsible. With babies. An kissing. An you're cute. I like funny evil reptiles. Even if you're nice, like some kinda loser. Fuck me now please."

You are lifted up and slammed down, your new mate wide-eyed as it watches you take and take and take, only complaining and screaming a bit about how big it is, and pouting when it slows. You're flooded with cum, head back, digging your nails in, finally telling it thank you.

You fall asleep full of cum, its flare lodged securely inside of you. You insisted, just in case. You like being full, you want its babies.

It's happy to give you what you want, drowsy and warm. You were watched from the moment you entered the forest. You were never in any danger, from drowning or anything else. Dumbass human. You look beautiful full. You'll be mad as hell when you wake up, simultaneously thrilled to discover your fate, to be a beloved mate and toy and baby mama.

#yandere terato #yandere teratophilia #nsft #naga #naga yandere #monster x chubby reader #monster yandere #monster fucker #reptile terato #terato #naga terato

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arixiie · 11 months ago

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My opinions on the MBTI types

ESFP - Very cheerful and social, cares a lot about people's opinion and fashion

ESTP - Quite social and a bit arrogant but can be kind and helpful to loved ones

ISFP - Adventurous, artistic, tends to hide their feelings and are kind

ISTP - Also adventurous, tends to care a lot about nature and seems insensitive and uncaring but really just lack the emotional intelligence to express that they care about others, Everyone either simps for them or hate them

ESFJ - Very social, enjoy helping others and very kind but can be insane and violent when they want to

ESTJ - Hardworking, not very emotional, perfectionistic and basically every teacher's favourite student

ISFJ - Enjoy helping, smart, very kind, loyal and empathetic

ISTJ - Hardworking, seems quite serious but can be funny and kind sometimes

ENFP - Cheerful, energetic, depressed, kpop stan, impulsive, kind

ENFJ - Social, wants to save everyone, helpful, the least weird intuitive in my experience

INFP - Compassionate, Sensitive and kind but can be assertive and cold if they have to

INFJ - Spiritual, way too many of them on the internet, quiet, once you hurt them, you're doomed.

ENTP - Depressed, ambivert, funny, could destroy the world if wanted to, memes.

INTP - I don't know, they stay at home too much for me to analyse them

ENTJ - Hardworking, ambitious, strategic, intellectual, seems uncaring and insensitive but really love their family, can be emotional once they've opened up, not as evil as people portray them as

INTJ - Intellectual, quiet, introvert, hides their feeling, can be emotional, very selective of their friends

(Sorry if this was offensive, this are my opinions on the mbti types in my experience and everyone is different so obviously this aren't fully accurate. Also if you're gonna say "no one asked" , You're being childish and illogical so please do not say that)

#MBTI #my opinions #Esfp #Estp #Isfp #Istp #Esfj #Estj #Isfj #Istj #Enfp #Enfj #Infp #Infj #Entp #Intp #Entj #Intj #intj thoughts

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spitblaze · 7 months ago

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Okay I've witnessed it happening enough in Queer Internet Circles that I think I can confidently say something about it.

Can we PLEASE stop picking arbitrary lgbt+ demographics out of a hat and having entire conversations about how they 'aren't actually queer' and 'taking valuable resources' for the crimes of 'some of them are cringe' or 'some of them are assholes' or 'they have a nebulous privilege over the rest of us so they're the oppressor, actually'.

Like look, some conversations are absolutely worth having. There's a lot of transmasc shitheads who latch on to toxic masculinity or seem to completely forget what it's like to navigate a world that considers you a woman, or completely fail to realize that being transgender yourself doesn't suddenly mean you don't have to examine yourself for internalized transphobia or transmisogyny. And that should be addressed, every community has its issues, no community is a monolith, no demographic is made up of entirely good smart righteous people or evil bad oppressive abusers. Obviously.

But I'm not talking about that!

I'm talking about people bringing up the same tired rhetoric they used when they tried to claim that nonbinary people are clout-chasing attention seekers who will keep cishet society from taking the rest of us seriously, that people used when they decided asexuals were actually cishets who co-opted our movement for their own personal gain, which was recycled from when people tried to claim that bisexuals are het-passing fakers and if a REAL queer has sex with one they'll be left for a cishet because that's what bisexuals do, which is the same as the shit they spewed at whoever the target was before that! It's paranoid nonsense all the way down, people looking for an acceptable target to take their shit out on!

Can we stop doing this, please?? Can we stop picking demographics within our own community that people arbitrarily decide are fine to bully and mock and kick out of the spaces they helped create because you think that they're cringe or that speaking about the issues they face is privileged whining? Can we stop giving bigoted cishets free reign on already vulnerable communities because someone arbitrarily decided that THESE queers are evil and cringe so its okay to make shitty comments and jokes about them? Can we PLEASE stop the cycle in its tracks while we can still see the crosshairs moving onto tranfems and trans women? We can stop this now before it starts getting uglier and deadlier, but we HAVE to be aware and do more than complaining about it online.

#spitblaze says things #and im ESPECIALLY worried because i have an extremely bad feeling that the next target is gonna be transfems and trans women #so KNOCK THAT SHIT OFF! ALL OF YOU!!!#long post #i have been wrong before! i will be wrong again! im not a spokesperson or an authority im just noticing trends #THAT HAVE ME VERY FUCKING CONCERNED #ugh. i feel like i should stop making posts about queer community stuff. i probably should for my mental health #but mostly it feels like i dont have any place to talk. unsure if thats true or anxiety brainworms but.#its never brought me anything except frustration and anguish anyway so. dont expect more original posts on the subject

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arenabreadandbiscuits · 1 month ago

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Writer In Need! - Writing & Art Commissions Available, Please Read The Whole Post And Vote To Help Me!

My mom has been admitted into the hospital today.

Hey guys, serious post so please treat it as such but genuinely I need commissions. I'm currently at the hospital with my mom and I won't bore any of you anymore with the many issues I have but commissions would be both helpful on her to help pay for things that's are more low priority while bigger money is dealt for bigger things. Nonetheless my point is commissions are open. I'll draw but pieces take longer but I am happy to do Hazbin Hotel, Demon Slayer, and various OCS no matter where they're from so please just ask me.

Hazbin is my biggest fandom right now so I prefer working in that fandom but I can hear others out. I'm a part of quite a few.

Though I can draw I do prefer more writing commissions over other things so please ask for those. At the top of my page it mentions what I will and won't do so please refer to it but I'll write cc x cc, OC x cc, OC x OC, angst, smut, fluff, 3k, 6k, 10k words... Just please look at my account and read everything before commissioning ANYTHING.

I will only take payment as Cash app, Chime, and/or Venmo but I'd really just like to have the money for peace of mind. Don't pm me with offers of other things... 'sugar daddy' looking for a baby desperate for help? Please stay away from me. I ONLY want genuine commissioners and if you choose to be one I will talk to you fully about your commission to make sure I get all the right info and actually start your story if you send full/half pay.

It's just... I'm going through so much. I hate having to ask the Internet for help because sometimes people don't listen and offer times they don't care but bless any soul out there who reads this and bless your life if you decide to actually commission me in this time of need.

I'm putting a poll for interaction to hopefully actually get commissioners. I usually beg people who aren't serious to not vote but sometimes people enjoy getting others hopes up so I know most likely it'll still occur but I have to try. I think maybe months ago I made a goal to see if I could reach 400 dollars just from commissions. It'll take work but work that I will and have to accept.

Here's some pictures of me currently at the hospital because I know people don't really listen to these things when they don't trust them and that's smart and completely fair.

I have videos as well but here's just a couple. Once again I'm looking for serious commissions. Want a 4k, 5k, 8k(?!) story of your OC smashing Lucifer I'll do it just please give me your money. I'm desperate and my mentally is trying to keep stable so please gods and goddesses let people see and be serious about this post like I'm begging for them to be.

Here's the poll

Please don't vote if you aren't going to do one of these two things. I'm in genuine need of help again and I'm hoping this works this time because it hasn't in a while now.. I have many examples of writing on this account though I'm aware I need to make another master list..

I'm also more than happy to write and/do art for:

Obey Me

The Arcana

Stardew Valley

Harvest Town

Dislyte (specifically writing since I haven't practiced my art style with them)

Demon Slayer

Tokyo Revengers

Possibly more...

If you've voted or you're a commissioner looking to give me work, thank you. I'm happy you're here and hopefully.. you enjoy your stay here while you have it. Honestly if I don't get commissions after this post I just honestly don't know what I can do.

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spot-the-antisemitism · 1 month ago

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Did you see the latest Tamamita sponsored scam where he makes a guy in a vague desertic place hold a smart phone in perfect condition with tamamita's Tumblr blog full of that fox girl from Fate as "proof" it's legit lmfao

https://www.tumblr.com/tamamita/765050379178229760/please-help-nader?source=share

So Tamamita blocked me after I proved he slandered me there I incorrectly said he photoshopped a screenshot of me saying islamophobic things by photoshopping a "not" out a statement. I misremembered it, it was this other guy, starlight or whatever. Because Tamamita can't photoshop to save his life

Here we can see proof that tamamita could NEVER because look at this shitty ass shop job. you can see the edges of the screen don't match up with the phone. He snatched some photo off the internet and edited his tumblr on it badly. I bet you can find the original and something like IDK Bisan or his Gofundme or even some ad is on his phone.

also WHY would someone trust some fucker's tumblr? Not even whatsapp or something? like 90 ghost and Ibitsaams are actually using their real names and that's why I kinda trust them more.

this soooo disengenious and I don't feel like this is his gazan friend (is this man even gaza?) this feels like "OOOH gonna steal some money from dumb white people"

how did I get this screenshot? well this anon who might be a literal nazi sent it to me with the words "fatetard" and "degenerate" in them and I blocked the ask but kept the screenshot until someone hinged asked about it

can't wait what tamamita will slander me with next after I said this

#leftist brainrot #leftist hypocrisy #tankie punks fuck off #psyops #photoshop #donation scam #donation scams

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fuck-your-proana-blog · 5 months ago

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Fellow disabled people/in recovery people/suicidal people, please avoid interaction with @skylarthethompson .

I tried to kill myself last year because of my ED and chronic pain. I was in a coma for 2 days, in the hospital for 2 weeks, and am still suffering the after affects of the damage the 3 months worth of pills I swallowed did to my brain and body, and I'm still struggling with suicidal thoughts due to my many physical and mental illnesses. I just hope me exposing this cruel human will keep them from hurting anyone else who is also struggling.

Telling someone they have nothing to live for is so fucking beyond ok and I just want to warn anyone else who is suffering from chronic pain/illnesses/disabilities and mental illnesses/suicidal ideation that this person is a cruel and insensitive troll and to not let them rent space in your mind.

I reported them; anyone else who sees this please report this despicable behavior so they don't do any further damage to the mentally ill/chronically ill community here on Tumblr.

The first comment is clearly suicide baiting, and I guess they realized that and tried to seem a little less depraved; but you can't undo saying shit like this:

Also, take a look at the victim mentality at work here: "you're a smart smart nice person and I'm a dumb dumb mean person." 🙄.

And then there's the fake "do-gooder" story. So telling a very disabled person that their life isn't worth living is helping, and "a good coping mechanism"?? Anyone with half a braincell can tell you're just trying to seem less like an asshole when you've been exposed as one. Nice try to not seem like an absolute garbage person; but it didn't work.

And this selfishness: "I don't feel safe now! I don't want my virtual life ruined! I don't want gross people telling me horrible insults when my mental health can't take it!" Funny, because I didn't want your gross opinion on why I should just kill myself because my life is too miserable to be worth living with all my mental and physical illnesses. Nice ableism you got there. Also I didn't ask anyone to send you "horrible insults." I just asked my followers to avoid and report you for suicide baiting; which is a very severe problem on the internet that no one deserves; least of all mentally and physically disabled people like me and many of my followers.

"Please don't ruin my life over this!" If you say things online that you don't want everyone to see, that you can come to acknowledge are the actions of an asshole, that's your problem. Don't tell people they should just give up and kill themselves if you don't want people to see how heartless you are. If your life is "ruined" by something you said you have no one to blame but yourself.🤷

And of course the classic "I reported your post; I won't let you ruin my Tumblr life." ...are you even serious? You wrote those words; all I did was take screenshots and show them to my followers so they don't become victims of your harassment themselves- not everyone has the great support system I do, so they deserve a warning about people like you. Plus I said nothing wrong, I just told you that telling people to kill themselves is fucked up and made a post exposing your cruelty so you couldn't harm others who struggle like I do. If your "Tumblr life" gets "ruined" from this, your have no one to blame but yourself because all I did was post the words you put on my posts. I don't give a shit that you're "only 18;" you're still an adult and should know better than to tell strangers on the internet that their lives are so horrible they should just kill themselves.. also if you were actually "sorry" you wouldn't have said more cruel things after your oh-so-sincere apology.

There were even more responses they made saying they were going to kill themselves and it was my fault because I posted things they publicly said on a public platform, telling me they were going to Livestream their suicide and publicly blame me for their death, etc. (I reported those comments to Tumblr for a suicide threat but didn't get screenshots before they were deleted.) You can look at the amount of notes on said posts; this one has 27 replies with only 2 from me so they were harassing me all day with 25 comments while I went to some of my many appointments, so obviously I didn't get screenshots of them all, but the ones I did screenshot are more than enough proof that this person who told me I should just die and was trying to blame me for their mental state; saying I was guilty of something THEY actually did to ME, and that if they killed themselves it would be my fault... For simply making a post telling vulnerable people to be aware of them and their disgusting behavior because no one deserves to be told their life isn't worth living; especially when they've been fighting with those thoughts in their own mind for years and don't need some asshole online trying to push them over the edge towards suicide.

When I was a fucking child I knew that telling people to kill themselves is wrong. Not my problem that you're so cruel you can't see it that way and harassed me all day as I went to my disability appointments finding out if I need more surgery while my notifications were going off at a ridiculous rate as you were trying to convince me I'm the bad guy for warning vulnerable people about you; a person that told someone they don't even know who is a suicidal, ED recovering, physically and psychologically disabled person, that their life isn't worth living and they should just kill themselves.

This person is a threat to the mentally and physically disabled and they need their blog to be terminated so they can't trigger people on the edge like me and so many of my followers and others in the disabled/ED communities on Tumblr.

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adrl-pt · 3 months ago

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Saving Activist Andrey Gnyot. VPN Protest. Charity Lecture by a Political Philosopher.

You are watching the news from the weekly rally at the Russian Embassy in Lisbon. Today is August 24, 2:30 PM.

Since the end of last week, Belarusian and Russian activists have been holding a protest demanding that Belarusian activist Andrey Gnyot not be extradited to dictator Lukashenko. On August 21, Andrey and his lawyers shared the details of his case on the European Radio channel. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-upcgkIwWSA

On August 25 at 2 PM, we will gather in front of the Serbian Embassy in Lisbon at Rua de Alcolena 11. https://www.facebook.com/events/1043644033328903/

If you cannot come, please take photos with posters and send them to us at [email protected].

Sign and share the petition that could help Andrey in the Serbian court. https://www.peticije.online/slobodazaandreja

Also, support the fundraising for his legal defense. https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-andrey-gnyot-save-his-life

We believe it is important to support Andrey because we understand the problems that dictator Lukashenko creates for Belarusians. Recently, with great difficulty, the rock band Bi-2 was saved from deportation to Russia. https://www.change.org/p/thailand-free-bi-2-rock-band

Currently, Russian citizen Vladislav Arinichev is under threat of deportation from Croatia. The reason is that Putin labeled him a "terrorist" and "extremist" for his anti-war statements. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RU2JQ9NArqo

In April, Novaya Gazeta Evropa reported that Rosfinmonitoring is adding both people suspected of terrorist activities and, for example, employees of an Orenburg gay bar in a case about the alleged "extremist LGBT movement" to this list. This list already contains more than 14,000 people, including well-known journalists, politicians, and theater figures. https://novayagazeta.eu/articles/2024/04/02/s-nachala-2024-goda-spisok-terroristov-i-ekstremistov-rosfinmonitoringa-popolnilsia-na-rekordnye-669-chelovek-17-iz-nikh-nesovershennoletnie-news

Back in 2018, Novaya Gazeta reported how law enforcement agencies find "extremism" in social media posts. https://novayagazeta.ru/articles/2018/08/21/77560-etot-spisok-grazhdanskaya-smert

In the Freedom House Internet Freedom Rating, Russia ranks fifth from the bottom, while Belarus is seventh. https://freedomhouse.org/countries/freedom-net/scores?sort=asc&order=Total%20Score%20and%20Status

On August 23, the director of the "Internet Protection Society" Mikhail Klimarev reported disruptions in the work of Telegram, WhatsApp, and Viber. https://t.me/zatelecom/28739

On July 26, he shared two working methods for bypassing the blocks and slowdowns of YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jbTGhCYFIsY

These are the Ceno Browser and VPN generator. https://censorship.no/ru/download.html https://t.me/vpngeneratorbot/?start=BrSh2607

The Telegram channel "Tech Talk" published a link on how to purchase Amnezia VPN while bypassing the blocking of their main site. https://t.me/ru_tech_talk/543

They also provided instructions on how to connect MTProxy, which helped with Telegram blocking in 2018. https://t.me/ru_tech_talk/544

While Russians are protesting by installing VPNs, Ukrainian journalist Yuriy Butusov burned the files of Russian draft dodgers at the Sudzha military registration and enlistment office, calling them "smart people." One of the comments under this video reads: "One Ukrainian soldier helped these people more than their native Russia." https://www.youtube.com/shorts/qaeEidnquCE

On August 27 at 7 PM, we will hold a charity lecture on what a revolutionary situation is. The lecture will be given by political philosopher Ilya Budraitskis. We recommend registering using the phone number listed on the poster so that we can better understand how many viewers will attend. https://www.facebook.com/events/1021147643042506/

We are holding this event as part of our regular support for the Netherlands Orphans Feeding Foundation, which works to return stolen Ukrainian children. If you can't come, please make a donation from home. https://www.every.org/orphans-feeding-foundation/f/help-us-return-the-deported

Proofs and links are in the description. Subscribe and help!

#freeandreygnyot #belarus #philosophy #vpn

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 7 months ago

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Life Is Short So Make It Sweet

Chapter 27: Creating New Habits

Summary- 5.5k Curtis Everett x Plus!Sized Reader. Making the decision to step way out of another comfort zone is hard but taking that chance on yourself? Something you want to do. Curtis is thrilled to get to help you on this journey.

Warnings- Smut. This is an 18+ only blog. Reader dealing with self-doubt and harsh self-talk.

A/N- Thank you to everyone following Curtis and Honey's journey. It means so much to me as this series is such a personal comfort of mine. Special shout out to @what-is-your-plan-today and @mumbles411 for giving this a read over before posting. Dividers made by the talented @firefly-graphics. Likes are appreciated, but if you enjoyed this, please leave a comment and share, it really means so much to me. Thank you again!

Chapter Twenty-Six / Masterlist

What are you doing here Y/N? Your mind raced as you peered out your windshield at the old brick building with a sign that said Big Jon’s Boxing.

You should wait till Curtis can come with you.

You were petrified, the gym was so daunting, but you wanted to prove that you didn’t need Curtis to just come here.

Gyms were a nightmare for you, you had seen the videos people would post of bigger people working out. That was probably your biggest fear, a video of you plastered all over the internet while you struggled. You could hear Jake’s snickering laugh at your expense, the one he used whenever you embarrassed yourself in front of one of his friends.

“She can’t be brilliant all the time, can you Babe?”

“Whatever Jake, shut the hell up.” You whispered out loud to no one really, just an attempt to drive his voice out of your head.

You can do this, You want to do this.

You prepped talk yourself while pushing the door open and stepping into the parking lot.

After all, you are just checking it out today, nothing else.

You stepped into a well-lit area, wide open full of equipment and a few boxing rings scattered around. People milled around, minding their business and never glancing at where you awkwardly stood and looked around. Upbeat music played from various speakers scattered around and a few televisions were hanging above equipment with the screens fixed on different channels.

A nearby desk had a large older man sitting behind it, on his computer when he looked around it to where you were standing. “Hi, can I help you?”

You stepped towards the desk, giving a light shrug of your shoulder. “I’m just checking the place out. My boyfriend said this gym was the place to go to learn some self-defense moves.”

“We can certainly do that here, we offer some one-on-one courses or group sessions. Who is your boyfriend? He sounds like a regular here.”

“He was, his name is Curtis Everett.”

“Oh ho, Curtis! You tell him Big Jon has been wondering where the hell he has gone off to. Grey told me he met someone.” He grinned as he held out his hand towards yours to shake. Your hand felt swallowed in his as you returned the gesture. “How is he doing?”

“Oh, he is doing good, busy as always.” You said with a small smile. It was hard not to with this man’s energy. Big Jon certainly did remind you of Grey, his presence calming even though he was more vocal than your friend was. Warm eyes twinkled and the lines creased on his face as you two started talking more about Curtis.

“That sounds about right. I’ve never known him to sit around doing nothing. Always got something happening.”

“That certainly is Curtis.”

Big Jon hummed in agreement, his large arms folding over his chest and leaning back slightly against his desk. “So self-defense, smart of you to learn.” He reached behind him and grabbed a pamphlet. “Of course feel free to check out the facilities and take this with you, think over what best suits you.”

You took the pamphlet with a soft thank you. “I will be sure to.” Behind you more people came in, splitting off to talk to Big Jon. You took that moment to walk around, and get a feel for the atmosphere. Everyone was just stuck in their own headspace, mostly ignoring you or giving a brief glance as you passed by.

Maybe this isn’t so bad. You finally admitted to yourself after your tour, returning to the car and sliding in behind the wheel while your thoughts started to gain more confidence. Doesn’t even have to be a class, I can get Curtis to teach me after all. You glanced down at the gym membership card now in your hand. I did it.

This was a huge moment, you felt the exhilaration of facing this fear after a lifetime of being self-conscious about even stepping into a gym. The last time you had, Jake had made you feel so bad about trying that you had quit that very day. But not this time, this time you weren’t worried that Curtis would have some snide remark about you trying. If anything, he was going to be just as thrilled for you as you were.

Already feeling better about the whole idea of joining a gym, you started the car to head back to Curtis’s house for the night.

You were just coming down the stairs after a shower when you heard Curtis’s truck pull into the driveway. Within moments his heavy steel toe boots were thumping on the steps and the front door was opening to let him in. Your steps down went a little faster, causing him to glance up from where he was unlacing his boots to watch you come down the stairs.

Dark brows shot up with interest and his blue eyes seemed to drink you in as the sundress he had picked out for you swayed around your thighs.

The little tingle of pride in making him pause zipped up your spine and gave you a buzz. “Honey, you look…”

“Cute?” You asked with a teasing tone, pausing on the last step, giving you an advantage of being closer in height when Curtis straightened.

“Cute is used when you cocooned yourself in the blankets and I have to unravel you out while you’re protesting the entire time,” Curtis smirked as he finished getting his boots off and with silent stocking feet approached that bottom step. Letting his hands flow along the curves of your hips while he brought you close to the step edge, leaving almost no space between the two of you while your arms went over his shoulders and you fiddled with the chain at the back of his neck.

“Oh god, that is not cute.” Your nose wrinkled at the image, knowing fully how you just weren’t a morning person, no way you could be cute at that moment.

“I say it is. No, right now you are beautiful and sexy as hell wearing my dress that I picked out for you.” His hands wrapped suddenly around the back of your thighs, at some point he had been able to sneak them just under your dress and with a yelp of surprise from you, he wrapped them around his waist.

“Curtis James!” You clutched at him while he gave a huff of a laugh at your response but started kissing all the sensitive spots on your neck, starting right at your racing pulse and then down towards your shoulder. “One day you’re gonna-”

“If I hurt my back, then that is on me Honey.” He was quick to cut you off your protest, clearly enjoying having made you wrap around him even if you protested. “You do realize I will never get tired of doing this to you.”

You giggled, allowing your actual happiness to take over any of your worries as your hands loosened on his upper back and you let them slide up over his shoulders and along his neck to cup his bristled face. “Guess what I did today?” You pressed a kiss to his lips, teasing him with light nips that made him groan deeply while trying to keep you in contact. You managed to pull away again to see a flush start to rise on his neck and the tips of his ears redden.

“Mmhh, what did my Pretty Girl do?” Curtis rumbled out as his fingers flexed into a tighter hold on the back of your thighs.

“I went to check out that gym you suggested. Met Big Jon and got a membership.” Your grin spread as you said it, showing him just how happy you were about it.

Curtis gave a whoop and spun enough to make your dress flare out, your outburst of a laugh melding with his praise. “Honey, you’ve made my day.” There was no missing his kiss this time, making everything in you tingle, your fingers curling around his cheeks to hold on and keep up. Within seconds your toes touched the floor as he let you lower back to a stand. “Honestly Y/N, I am so fucking proud of you for this.”

You gave a shy little shrug, the praise making you feel good and it was still such a new feeling for you. “I figured it was time.”

“Hey…” His fingers brushed against your chin, tilting you up to meet his gaze. “If it’s what you want, then it’s time.” He said firmly and you nodded to confirm that this was what you wanted and nothing else.

“Cross my heart.” You made the motion across your chest, his eyes teasing as they dropped to watch the criss cross of fingers across your cleavage.

He rumbled a bit, his tone dropping in timbre. “Quit distracting me.” Curtis teased, letting his fingers trace over your collarbone and darting in to press his lips to yours once more.

You managed to mutter between his swift kisses. “One more thing, before we get too carried away.” Your hand pressed against his firm chest and he immediately paused with an arch of his brow to have you continue with your request.

“You’re right. I should go take a shower.” He suddenly muttered, looking down at himself covered in some grime and grease from his day at the trainyard. “Shit, I wasn’t thinking Honey.” He swiftly apologized but you fisted your hand in his shirt before he could pull away.

“You know I don’t give a shit about that. Can you take me down the cellar to see what you have down there for workout equipment?”

“Of course, Honey.” He grabbed his lunch bag and your hand to lead you into the kitchen, depositing his bag by the sink. “It's a bit of a clutterfuck down there though. Some of Gram and Gramp’s very dated furniture made its way down there and I just haven’t hauled it away yet.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at him, letting him lead you down the old wooden stairs while artificial overheads started to flicker on below you. “I’m not one to judge, my apartment is currently a disaster.”

Curtis gave a chuckle while he worked his way down, you following behind him carefully. You glanced around the space as this was your first time coming down and indeed was a bit of clutter, but you could see that he had one section cleaned out around the furnace and their was a small section of that squared off with a workout bench and a dusty punching bag. A frame of weights stood near the bench, neatly aligned weights by size. When you were able to glance at the amount of weights still attached to the bar, your eyes widened a bit, from a quick count of numbers, he was certainly lifting more than you weighed.

“Holy shit…” You muttered and Curtis glanced at you to see you adding on your fingers just to be sure. Again that red crept up his neck and his hand clasped at the back of his neck, rubbing at it.

It was rare to see Curtis get a bit bashful and it made you grin. “I mean, that was back last summer Honey, I don’t know about doing that much now.”

“It probably wouldn’t be safe to just jump back into it.” You agreed while he worked some of the weights off the bar, your head tilting to admire the way his back flexed under his shirt during the process, and gave a wistful sigh at the view.

Curtis gave you a knowing look as he wiped the dust off the bench and sat down while flexing his hands before laying back to inhale deeply. You did the math from the amount of weights left on the bar and your eyes widened a bit. “Curtis you sure about…”

“I’m fine Honey.” His hands fitted on the bar and moved to lift it off the frame. Your breath held with apprehension at first, he claimed he was fine, he certainly lifted you plenty of times even though you would protest, but you also knew that sometimes his back would spasm and you would hate for him to hurt himself.

Curtis didn’t seem to struggle though. Sure all the muscles in his shoulders and chest tightened with the effort. Your worry melded into arousal at the view while, at the same time you felt almost envious in the way he was able to so easily lift that weight in such a fluid motion, like it was an ease for him. All too soon he was putting the bar back and pushing back up to a sit.

His brow arched at you, his knowing smile flirting with his slightly pink-tinged face from his workout. “Com’ere Pretty Girl.” Patting his thigh with his palm. You took a breath and approached him, glancing at his thigh with trepidation before moving to straddle him while his hands slid around to rest on the fullness of your backside. “Tell me what you were just thinking about.”

Your arms slipped over his broad shoulders, your fingers brushing against the back of his neck to brush against the hairs there. Your gaze roamed his curious face, mapping out the slight arrangement of freckles darting across his nose to his dark lashes that were almost sinful to be on a man. Dropping to the soft pink of his lips among the darkness of his trimmed beard. “I was admiring how incredibly fine you are.”

Your head dipped to his, your nose trailing against his while breathing in deeply, his cologne heightened cause he was heated up a bit more. You whispered as you pressed your lips to his. “You also smell really good.”

Curtis shifted a bit, his hands finding a stronger hold on your ass while arching you closer into him. His cerulean blues darkened slightly, the air around the two of you charging with arousal. “I should have brought you down here sooner.” He grunted while your hands slid back over his shoulders and down his chest, your hand fisting in his tee to tug it over his head.

“Yes, you should because damn if that wasn’t a turn-on.” You said earnestly as your hand twisted in his chain and you arched in close, your mouth finding his and giving a searing kiss. He ground you into him again, this time a lot harder against you, his hips pushing up to meet you. You whimpered into his mouth, your pussy starting to throb and grow wet with need to have him. You could taste him, his smell permeated your senses and made your entire mind grow fuzzy with desire. As dirty as he was from his day at work, it was now driving you mindless. You tugged at his pants while a hand slapped at your ass, making you sting.

Your dress was tugged away, roughly while your nails streaked down to grab at his belt, working it open. “How much do you like these leggings Pretty Girl?” Curtis just about growled out as your bra got yanked down, his mouth finding its way between your cleavage, the graze of his beard rough against them, and you chased after that feeling.

“These leggings?” You said with a gasp, wriggling your hips in an urgency. “Burn them off if you gotta Curtis.”

His moan vibrated into your chest where his face was buried, kissing and worshipping your breasts while he had them exposed to his tongue and teeth. You got his pants yanked open enough to pull his cock out, stroking it with one hand while you moved the other to grab at the back of his head, keeping him pressed in against you.

Everywhere you felt him nip with sharp teeth his tongue soothed the sting away and left you wanting more. His cock throbbed in your hand as you moved it just how he liked it, the slight squeezes and speeding up to give him the friction, your thumb collecting the small beads of precum collecting to suck off the pad of your finger, humming with eagerness. Curtis pulled up, taking in how your lips parted to suck, his fingers digging into your leggings like they were now pissing him off.

“No one knows just how dirty you can be, do they?” His tone dropped, a whole hunger burning in his voice as you smirked at him, popping your thumb from your mouth, now cleaned of the pearly droplets. Your hips were yanked, the fabric giving away as easily as if he was opening a present.

“Only for you Curtis.” You teased, giving a slight cry as his fingers stroked along your soaked panties, your head falling back to be able to focus on how your body was weeping to be fucked, how his fingers were pushing between slick folds to tease you to something greater than the need you were in now. Curtis was pushing up into your hand, fucking him with your touch just as he was starting to with you, his fingers thick as they filled your needy, weeping hole.

“Hell yes only for me.” Possessively intimate in his touch, your pussy squelching as they squeezed his fingers stroking you, touching you in the way only he could, your hips started bouncing up and down on him, one hand still on his cock, jerking him off while the other braced against his shoulder, nails digging in to get the leverage needed to ride his fingers. “Your wet needy hole needed to be filled by me, Pretty Girl.” Your head nodded to confirm as your moans of his name got louder. “So fucking messy and perfect riding my fingers. But I want you coming all over my cock as I fill that greedy hole.”

“Curtis, please.” Now that he put that image in your head, you needed more than his fingers bringing you to the edge. Pulling up enough to slide his cock between your thighs, you waited long enough for him to move his hand and then started to sink down, stretching you open and making you gasp at the burn. He was always going to stretch you, and you welcomed that feeling of him seeming to sink into your wanting pussy for so long.

“Thatta girl, you can take me.” His messy hand grasped the roll on your hip, pulling you down onto him. “Always just swallow my cock, fuck.” He hissed as he pushed up, meeting you with a pounding thrust.

It was just what you needed, bouncing now to meet him Your hands grabbed at one another to hold on, his grunts of effort were matched with your panting moans. Your body went tacky with sweat as your movements became rushed. Your pussy wept around his pounding cock, sucking him in as he hit your sweet spot over and over.

His mouth found yours, swallowing your moans as his own while you started to break for him, crying with a sharp plea. Wave after wave of pleasure consumed you, making you lose your rhythm as you fell into his chest, clinging to him. His touch turned harder, moving your body to ease you through as you buried your face into his shoulder. “Got you, Honey.” His words slurred, his movements turning rushed and desperate.

Your head lifted, your lips brushing against his ear as your arms slipped around his neck to hold onto him. “I need you Curtis, fill me up and let me feel full of you.” Your voice was soft against him, gentle quiet pleads that were all for Curtis. “You are so good at making me satisfied.”

You teased his earlobe, nibbling and kissing along the shell, he wrapped you tighter to his hold while your legs trembled and you sank in against him letting him support you. He groaned loud, muttering a curse while warm sticky cum filled you, making you hum with satisfaction that not only did you come, but he did too.

Your touch on his skin was everywhere, stroking your fingers against tensed quivering muscles and letting him hide against you for support as you did him several times, murmuring how much you love him for making you feel so safe and satisfied with him.

“I love you so much, Curtis.” You pressed kisses against his shoulder, letting your head rest in the crook of his neck, soaking in the moment. It didn't matter where you two were, it could be in the lush bed of the hotel in Florida or his dusty cluttered basement, it always felt so good being this way with him, it always ended with you feeling worshipped and satisfied.

“You got this Y/N, you're not going for power right now but just hitting in the same spot.” Grey held up his padded hands in front of you as you focused on the center of his palm and lashed out. You felt weak in your movements though, unsure as you hit against his hands one after the other, alternating which arm was throwing the punch.

“I feel like I’m not gaining any progress.” You sighed with frustration, pulling back to run your hand against your forehead to wipe away the sweat and catch your breath. Grey loosened one of the gloves, pulling it off.

“More than you think, you're more consistently hitting and a lot harder too.” His palm flexed to get the sting out. “I know it seems to take forever to notice any change though.”

You tried to take Grey’s words to heart as you wandered to your water bottle to grab a drink, leaning against the ring ropes for a breather. Your gaze fell on Curtis not too far away, his stance wide-legged as he mimicked what you were just doing, only he was hitting a heavy bag, making it swing. You hadn’t even managed to get that thing to move with your punches.

The back of his shirt clung to his upper back, dark with sweat and you could see the flush of red on the back of his neck creeping up. It didn’t escape you that you were openly admiring the scene before you and tried to subdue it a bit. But it was hard not to, what could you say… Curtis was fucking hot when he was focusing on his workout.

You still had yet to see him in the ring boxing with another opponent, claiming he was too out of shape for anything like that for now.

“Hey Curtis…” Grey called out as he started working his way out of the ring. “I gotta go pick up Soph, you wanna come take over?”

You noticed the immediate change in Curtis, his stance relaxing, shaking out his arms, and all that coiled forced power fading from notice. “Yeah… Tell my niece I will see her this weekend.”

Grey grabbed his stuff, ready to head off to the locker room. “According to Ella, she hasn’t stopped talking about you guys taking her to that butterfly exhibit.” Grey waved a hand at you in goodbye, you mimicked the move back at him.

“We’re excited to take her.” You took another sip of water, feeling your breathing start to slow back to normal.

“Keep up the good work Y/N, remember every little bit is progress!” Grey shouted over his shoulder as he disappeared. Curtis pulled himself up, slipping onto the mat while fitting on gloves.

“He is right Honey. You are stronger already.” Curtis looked you up and down, just as obvious as when you checked him out. “Still need a breather?”

You glared at him as he gave a slight grin at your expression, You were dripping sweat, hair mattered and although he was red-faced and had beads dotting his hairline on his forehead, he looked still fresh. But your breathing had gone steadier and you didn’t feel that wobble in your arms as much.

“Put them up.”

Curtis hissed in approval, eyes flashing proudly as he lifted his mitted hands, ready to block you.

“That's my girl… Don’t hold back.” You went to hit, but at the last second, you veered off, unable to make contact. Your arm jerked away, not wanting to smack the gloves held up for you.

“Damn it.” You pulled back with hesitation and Curtis shrugged it off, thinking you simply just missed.

“It’s okay Honey.” He repositioned himself to prepare for you. “Try again.”

Your nose wrinkled a bit as you tried zeroing on his hands, ignoring that you were about to hit Curtis. But you couldn’t, it was still blaring in your head and when you threw your hands into the hit, they weakly plunked off of his hands. “Ugh!” you huffed frustrated as you turned away from Curtis, putting space between you.

His own hands dropped, concern marring his features. “What’s wrong? Are you tired cause we can call it a day.”

“No, I’m not tired.” You bounced around on the heels of your toes to try to shake the anxiety that was building in your chest. Your whispers muttering to yourself. “Just do it Y/N, stop being this way, stop being weak.”

Hearing you talk to yourself bothered Curtis, the way you were so harsh to yourself. You hadn’t done that in a long time and he wasn’t about to let you continue. “Hey Baby, Look at me.” His tone was a command more than a request, he gripped at the velcro tie on one hand with his teeth and ripped it open to shake his hand out. Within a step he was standing in front of you, his freed hand cupping your cheek enough to stop you. You averted your eyes for a moment, anger making them darker but finally they flitted up to him with regret. “Deep breath in, please.”

You almost defied him, but you softened and let the air fill your lungs and his deep timbre requested an out, your exhale giving a bit of relief to all the thoughts racing in your head. “Sorry… I-I” You fizzled out a bit. Your hands went to his other glove, working it open. “You should take this off.”

He pulled his hand away from your grasp enough so you couldn’t take it off. “Talk to me Honey, what just happened.” Curtis's head tilted closer, keeping the conversation between just the two of you. His fingers brushed against your cheek, pulling his thumb away enough to show the glisten of frustrated tears at the end. “I want to help you through this.”

You struggled a moment with it, finally admitting your downfall. “I can’t hit you Curtis. I just can’t, when I even think of hitting you it makes me feel sick.”

“You’re not hitting me though Honey, this is practice. You’re not going to hurt me.” He pointed out the obvious, an arm easing around you and you stepped in closer to let your face press against his damp chest and sigh against it while you felt supported.

“It feels like it though and I can’t bring myself to follow through with what Grey has been teaching me.”

A heavy hand rubbed at your back, now that it was out there, you couldn’t just take it back. You were sure Curtis found this just as ridiculous as you.

He is gonna think you are trying to get out of exercising. That you’re fat and unwilling to make the effort. Just listen to your breath when doing the minimum.

That nasty voice plagued you, sounding so much like Jake that you felt your shame flare up all over again.

But his hand never stopped and finally, he tipped you back up to look at him. “Okay, I get it. If you asked me to do that, I would stress about that too.”

“You don’t think I’m being stupid?” You sniffled a bit and he shook his head, now brushing your loosened hair back from your face.

“No, I don’t ever think that Honey. You wouldn’t be this upset if it didn’t matter. Let’s try something else- together.” Curtis added, sweeping down to grab at the glove he had discarded earlier and led you to the edge of the ring, helping ease you out. “There is plenty of equipment here, you can punch on all that instead.” He winked at you and already you could feel the knot in your chest start to loosen up.

Curtis ended up taking you across the gym to a punching dummy, masculine in its features.

You reached out to touch it, the material firm but had some give. “Yeah, I can hit on this.”

“Mmh, I thought so.” His arm was slung around your shoulder while you explored the dummy. You gave a bit of a punch to see how it felt, grinning when you felt it sway just a bit.

“Just imagine this is that prick from the bar or your ex.” He whispered against your ear before stepping back. This time when your arm swung back, the force you hit it made it sway back. “Like a champ Honey.”

His praise replaced that anxious feeling.

“Remember the hammer strike Y/N?” Grey asked from the side of the ring, Edgar standing before you while Curtis watched from the opposite side. You looked confident while Edgar jokingly teased.

“Be easy on me.”

Curtis grinned as you flashed a smirk, sensing the way your muscles were tightening as you prepared the move Grey was asking for.

“Scared Edgar?”

“Maybe a little!” He made like he was going to attack you, but you were quick on your feet, dancing back a step and striking out for his head. The helmet he was wearing blocked your attack, but you kept at it, making him back up till Grey clapped his hands together sharply to have you break apart from him.

It was a stroke of genius on Tanya’s part to suggest Edgar after Curtis was talking to Grey about how it went after he had left. He never went into details about what happened, but simply said that you had conflicting feelings about practicing the self-defense on him.

Tanya’s hint was not so subtle when she turned towards Edgar who was sneaking out a donut from the box on her desk meant for the break room. “Have Y/N practice on Edgar, you would do it, right?” She arched a brow at Edgar like she dared him to say no. “Do anything to help out, I just know you would Edgar.”

“Uh-” Edgar stuttered, being put right on the spot. “Sure, I mean of course I would. I haven’t been to Big Jon’s in ages anyway.” The donut getting crammed into his mouth quickly.

“Good man.” Tanya smirked, clapping a hand on his back.

At first, you had balked at the idea, not wanting to hit him either but Curtis was able to convince you. Last Halloween also might have been a lasting memory about why you wanted to rough Edgar up a bit. You finally relented, far more enthusiastic about training with Edgar’s assistance.

Now Curtis saw your confidence build as Grey moved you through the moves, eventually ending with you dragging Edgar down onto the mat after escaping from a bear hug, you were gasping for breath, sweat running down your face as you put your hands to your knees for a second to catch your breath, but you looked triumphant.

A big booming clap sounded right next to Curtis, making him glance over in surprise at Big Jon slamming his hands together. “Damn, that was a sight to see! Edgar getting whooped all over the ring. Good job Sweetheart.”

The grin on your face got wider as you wiped your arm across your forehead, a bit of bashfulness but happiness making you squeak out. “Thank you Jon.”

“She is doing incredible.” Jon said a lot gentler while you reached for Edgar’s hand, helping him back to a stand and retreating to grab some water.

Curtis hummed in agreement. “That’s because she is. She overcame a lot to come here for this. I’m so proud of my girl.” He pulled himself up into the ring, leaving behind Big Jon for the moment while stalking across the mat.

You were cleaning yourself up when you flung the towel around your neck, holding onto the ends as you gave him that questioning grin. “What did you think?” Your teeth snagged at your bottom lip, nervous about what he would say.

“Fucking badass is what I think Honey.” His voice was deeper than normal, his eyes darkening as his hands rested on your hips, dragging you in close. With a dip of his head towards your ear, his beard grazing along your cheek while whispering. “Driving me insane watching you, I’m not going to make it back home till I have to fuck you.”

Your eyes went wide and excitement fluttered through your chest to settle low, and then lower still while you subtly clenched your thighs together, your heart racing all over again for another reason. His mouth hotly pressed to yours, drawing out a surprised sultry moan as you got lost in the kiss, the whole gym fading away for those few seconds.

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