#it's milder than when I first had it for sure

[sixosix]

no one's ever had me, not like you

timeskip!hinata shoyo x reader

“Are you really sure that you’re swearing off of dating?”

You wonder how many times you’ll be asked that before you finally get pressured into mingling just to get them off your back. But Akane, bless her heart, looks genuinely concerned, like choosing to stay single was a cruel fate she wouldn’t wish for anyone to bear.

“It’s not a big deal,” you tell her. “Dating’s just not for me.”

You think back to all your previous relationships, and find that you have never been more sure of your decision.

“It just means you haven’t found the right one!” To your left, Yuki, who is alarmingly a lot of shots in, exclaims. She becomes violent when drunk. You would know, your arm is starting to turn red from her smacking when laughing.

You shrug uncomfortably. “I’m not looking for any right one.”

Akane and Yuki share a glance.

“Well, if you say so,” Akane cedes.

Then Yuki slams her hands on the table as she bolts upright, expression grave and voice low as she says, “We’re doing it, though, right?”

You laugh under your breath. Yuki looks a little ridiculous, drunk, and swaying on her feet even when standing still. Her grip on her glass wavers, and you quickly pluck it from her grasp, ignoring her protesting wail.

Akane brightens. “Yes! Of course we’re doing it!”

You instead hand Yuki a glass of water. “Doing what? Are you two up to no good again?”

“Yes!” Yuki exclaims at the same time Akane calmly clarifies, “Noya’s inviting close friends out for dinner tomorrow.” Which makes sense, because they were pretty much the same thing.

“Oh! Nishinoya’s back?”

“Just arrived today! He said he’s visiting for a while.” Akane fishes out her phone from her hand, then pulls out the class’s group chat that you could never bring yourself to check ever since it hit 999+ notifications. It displays a picture of Nishinoya holding up a peace sign, face serious, and next to a large airport sign.

You hum thoughtfully. “I guess if you guys are coming…”

“Let’s go!” Yuki pumps her fists in the air. Akane smiles and tells her to settle down. Akane drank twice as many shots than her.

“Who else is coming?” You ask. “I might pass if it’s the entire school.”

“Noya’s not that wild. I heard it’s just his volleyball team, Ryuunosuke, and us,” Akane says. “I heard they’re also celebrating because Noya’s treating his kouhai’s return from Brazil.”

“Brazil?” The other side of the world! “Yuu and his friends sure are adventurous,” you remark in amusement, sipping idly on your own drink. It’s milder than either of theirs since you were assigned as the designated driver.

“You’ve heard of the guy. Hinata Shoyo, I think it was.”

You inhale your drink and start heaving. Akane’s hands flutter all over you in panic while Yuki descends in deep thought.

Yuki snapped her fingers. “Oh, right! Wasn’t that the first year who had a big crush on you when we were in second year? Noya’s favorite kouhai, Shoyo.”

Hinata Shoyo.

The first time you met Hinata Shoyo was when Nishinoya decided to invite close friends to watch them play. It was an ordinary day, and they had just come back from the Interhigh preliminaries. Their coach agreed to let them take it slow and relax, so Noya used it as an opportunity to invite his friends (it was just you who was free) to watch (read: to show off).

Having nothing better to do during club hours, you agreed.

You were late, stuck with cleaning duty, and forced to catch up to Noya, who had first wheeled into the volleyball gymnasium. The door was shut. You took deep, deep breaths before sliding it open and nearly having your face flattened by a volleyball speeding towards you.

Well, of course, it was a volleyball gymnasium.

Luckily, you managed to swerve out of the way and prevent long-lasting damage to your face. But the shock was more brutal than the would-be impact. You gaped at the ball that rolled onto the grass miles away. Just how fast was that thing?

“Y/N!” Nishinoya’s voice rang throughout the stunned silence of the gym.

Your head whipped around just in time to see a little guy with a mop of orange hair bound over to you.

“Sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry—-” He then looked up at you, now only inches away, and seemed to have run out of apologies. His face exploded in a bright shade of red, but his eyes looked like they were bluescreening.

“Oh, don’t worry. It’s fine!” You wave your hand to dismiss his guilt. “I didn’t actually get hit. Well—almost. But I didn’t! That was amazingly fast!” You hoped the praise would snap him out of it, but he was still gaping at you like you’d grown two heads. Or maybe you had something on your face?

Nishinoya comes barreling over soon enough, brows furrowed. “Y/N! Are you okay? You could’ve died!”

You frowned. “Idiot. I’m not going to die from that.”

Your statement seemed to shatter the tension that froze everyone in place. The captain murmured for them to continue practicing as Noya fluttered all over you like a mother hen, insisting on an ice pack.

Tanaka materialized out of nowhere. “Y/N! It’s you!”

“Ryuu!” You exclaim in delight, returning his hug. “Ryuu, it’s nice to see you again!”

Nishinoya turned to the tiny redhead with a raised eyebrow. “You good, Shoyo?”

Shoyo finally flinched out of his daze, narrowly avoiding your curious eyes. “Y-Yes! I’m just—I’ll go get the ball!” he squeaked out, nearly tripping over his own feet on a flat surface.

Nishinoya snorted, sharp eyes following Shoyo. “I think he has a crush on you.”

Tanaka cackled. “No way! Is that why Hinata looks so constipated?”

Hinata Shoyo. You glanced back just in time to catch him fumbling with the volleyball, trembling like a frightened mouse. It’s cute.

Now, you can confidently state that Hinata Shoyo is no longer just cute. Five years later, July, in an unsuspecting get-together party hosted by Nishinoya, and Hinata Shoyo definitely isn’t the same as before.

“Everyone!” Nishinoya’s voice bellows out throughout the venue. For such a small guy, he has the voice of a booming speaker. “Everyone, quiet! Shoyo’s here!”

Choruses of Hinata! echo through everyone as the crowd dispersed and bounded over to where Nishinoya was. You hear a faint laugh and a “Thank you!” From here, you could tell that his voice had gotten deeper. Still light and high, but it was different from the squeakiness you remembered.

Ever since finding out that Hinata had been back from Brazil, it turns out that his grand debut in the Nationals was aired all over. He’s famous now, not just some kid in Karasuno’s Volleyball Club.

“Ooh,” Yuki giggles maniacally. She hasn’t drunk anything yet. “He’s here. Do you think he still has a crush on you?”

“I doubt it. It was probably because I was his senpai back then. Remember how you reacted to Daichi-san visiting our hall? Everyone in our class was swooning, especially the boys!”

“Something about volleyball players, I tell you,” Yuki says, her gaze drifting over to where Akane was giggling as she talked with them. “Hmm. Speaking of them, I think one of them is on his way here.”

“What?”

Yuki takes one last sip of her tequila shot and leaves without another word. You didn’t have to turn—didn’t even have to move. You can feel his presence the moment he is right behind you, like a burst of warmth hovering, but it’s gold and bright, so you’re not terrified

Hinata Shoyo sits beside you, asking for a drink. You can’t help but stare.

He turned to you, then seemed to do a double take. Hinata Shoyo—now built twice as big as he once was; no longer the cute, lanky, and short kouhai from your past; with neatly trimmed hair and a much deeper voice—stares at you in astonishment. Hinata Shoyo emits a wordless exclamation.

“Senpai!” he exclaims in disbelief.

“Hinata,” you laugh softly, fondly. “We’re not in high school anymore. I’m pretty sure we’re the same age. You can just call me Y/N.”

“Y-You—” He splutters, face tinged pink despite the untouched shot in front of him. “Thanks!”

“You’re welcome.” You smile, tilting your head and grinning wider at the way his eye catches on the curve of your neck. “So, how have you been?”

He forgets about the drink he just ordered, seemingly getting redder in the face as you inch closer. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve assumed he was drunk. Hinata Shoyo grins sheepishly, blushing and looking beautiful under the dim lighting of the venue.

Swearing off of dating, hmm… 

You consider him—his bright eyes, his wide and ever-genuine smile, and his undivided attention on you. Does he still have a crush on you? Or was it just the surprise that had him so flustered? You throw your head back and gulp down a shot, ignoring the burn that slid down your throat. You suppose there was no harm in finding out.

#haikyuu x reader #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shoyo x you #hinata shouyou x reader #shoyo hinata x reader #haikyuu imagines

[officiallycake-blog]

Missed you today, friend! How's everything going for you?

#not to state the obvious #but COVID sucks #it's milder than when I first had it for sure #but hoo boy am I tired #and bummed to be missing out on friends and church #my husband has it rough this time too #but my daughter is a champ about it #we really wore masks everywhere while we were out #but the baby can't and my in laws didn’t and we have no way of knowing where it even came from #i'm not a huge fan of our thanksgiving trips since our relationships with that side of the family are kinda shallow #(it's for the best really - they are not people we could be intimately close to) #but i hope your holdiay was spent with at least some people you enjoy deeply #on my end-if nothing else-COVID isolation means i get to see my husband more #i'll see what i can write you in the two weeks before we play again #it's a busy time of year so maybe not much but hopefully at least something #:)

[diejager]

how would the cod group react to someone who has medical conditions that affect them mildly but constantly throughout the day? Like, it’s very mild, but constantly there and noticeable

(Eds is a pain in the ass)

I don’t know what Ed was, but it gave me erectile dysfunction as a medical condition, or an eating disorder for mental disorder. I’m not sure which is which, so eh, ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Parosmia Cw: I have no medical knowledge, this is all from google, mild medical condition, loss/distortion of smell and taste, triggering scents, tell me if I missed any.

You were transparent with your annoying condition, your documentation had it written down in medical conditions along with occasional tinnitus and sudden bouts of depression related to your distortion of scents. You’ve had some odours lose their potency, the fresh smell of cold aloe and cucumber dimming to a ghost of it’s freshness, and you’ve had scents that became too strong and nauseating, the usually delicious taste of steak became a nauseating rot and overpowering. 

Laswell had disclosed it to Price the day she showed him your file, letting him know that your nose might comprimiseyour operations if anything triggered it, but that, form experience from working with you, you knew how to deal with the disgust and urge to puke. She left him with out much convincing needed, because he’d seen you work once in a past mission in Siberia, a clandestine OP that had him sweating despite the freezing tempature and you hadn’t batted an eye at the attrocious rotting of dead elks and wolves near the base. He let the others know and reassured them that it wouldn’t compromise the mission if it were triggered. Gaz and Soap were more enthusiastic about having you, a little excited of having another teammate to act out with or to prank, and Ghost was more apprehensive and careful about introducing a new operation, but he’d turn around —eventually.

And he did, Ghost was the most careful around you, making sure that his musk and sweat was too strong to your nose, he watched out for any triggering odours and made sure to memorise all your triggers. He might not know how it felt, but he could only sympathise, trying his best to relieve your annoyance and stop anything from happening if he knew how to. It surprised Price how fast Ghost had opened up to you, to your snark and snide replies and heart-stopping grins. 

Fortunately, your parosmia was mild, a constant annoyance, but it was milder than the headaches Price had every night. He might not have as much time as the others to spend with you, but whenever he had the time, he would join your ragtag group for a drink in your room rather than the bar when he learned that the smell of oily and oversaturated fries and burgers had your head pulsing and throat clog up. He never brought up the need to go at a bar, he didn’t mind buying bottles and hide them in his office until the moment came for a night drink with his Task Force. 

Suprisingly, Gaz was understanding, quick to drop something to help you if you had a moment. Gaz would help you lean over the toilet seat, his hand running down your back in a soothing pattern, encouraging you to let it out and praising you for being strong. He helped you to your feet, knees weak and still a bit nauseous, and cleaned your face with a wet towel and handed you a cup to rinse your mouth before he lead you to your room, seated on your bed and helping you sleep it off. Gaz was a softer shoulder to lean on, confident in his care and unworried about being caught cuddling with you.

And Soap, oh ignorant Johnny, was confused at first, he made mistakes here and there, but he’s smart and resourceful. He might’ve been confused, but he made up for it, coming up with the weirdest and most amusing way to help you around base. He was as obnoxious about it as he was shamelessly showering you with affection, hanging off your shoulder and babbling your ears off while he wafted a scented near you that he learned was relaxing and comfortably soft for your olfactory nerves. 

They were surprisingly welcoming and went out of their way to make you comfortable in all and every form, you were honestly happy about it, even if you happened to annoy Ghost with your back talk as much as you did with Price, only encouraging and being encouraged by the younger men of the group.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts

#x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #gaz mw2 #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap x reader #price mw2 #price x reader #captain price #captain john price #task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #polyamory #poly 141 #parosmia

[cottonlemonade]

A Simpler Life [Part 1]

word count: 1585 || avg. reading time: 7 mins.

pairing: post-time skip Kita x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff, slice of life, mutual pining, slow burn

warnings: spoilers

synopsis: In pursuit of a calmer, simpler life you flee the city to move to the countryside - only to fall in love with your neighbor.

____________________________________________

When you decided on a clean break and moved to the little country home, you finally got your long harbored wish of a manageable veggie patch as well as a few fruit planters, breathing clear fresh air that the city life had you only dream about for so many years. At first, of course, the people were suspicious of the newcomer - the foreigner-city girl who came to their part of Hyogo with no clear intention but when you greeted each of them warmly around town and offered an open door if anyone ever needed help, they soon treated you as one of their own. The grandmothers of the neighborhood soon kept an eye out for any eligible bachelors because “it‘d be such a shame if a pretty girl like ya would be all lonesome in that house of yers“ but while grateful for their concern, you were happy on your own.

Although, that didn‘t stop you from falling for your neighbor as soon as you met him.

Your first impression of Kita was that he was polite, caring and warm but maybe a bit shy. He bowed his head with a smile when he passed by your front yard in the evening heading to his house, looking exhausted but satisfied. You wondered if he lived alone, too, because no one else seemed to be going in or out of the modest traditional nouka.

You were privately looking forward to the evenings when you could catch a glimpse of him and bask even for just a second in the sunshine of his smile.

This went on for a week or so of you two simply exchanging nods, waves and smiles until, “Good evenin‘.“, he greeted.

The buzzing of cicadas filled the air. You were tending to your garden, having opted to weed in the milder evening rather than the afternoon sun. A straw hat on your head, muscles already straining from the unfamiliar work, you straightened, trying to suppress a groan. “And to you.“, you replied, using the back of your hand to wipe the sweat off your forehead, smearing some soil on your skin in the process.

“It‘s really comin‘ together.“, he noted and nodded towards the healthy green surrounding your ankles.

Don‘t blush, you told yourself. “Thank you.“, you beamed, “I am worried about my tomatoes, though. They look a bit peaked.“

You pointed to some sad little plants on the end of your veggie patch.

With professional eyes he wandered along the fence to inspect them.

“Oh, yea, they might have had a bit too much sun and not enough water. Don‘t worry, happens to all of us.“, he smiled, “I have some extra starters in my greenhouse. Ya can have a couple if ya like. I always grow more in case bugs get to ‘em.“

“Oh, really?“

“Sure, come by tomorrow to pick ‘em up.“

“Thank you so much!“

“What else have ya got here?“, he now leaned on the fence post, examining the rest of the plants. You listed the few you had.

“Ya might wanna add sugar snap peas. They‘re easy to grow and the yield is really good.“

“Noted! But I might have to wait until next season, I don‘t think I have enough space for any more.“

“Ya can grow ‘em nicely in planters. I can build ya one. It‘s not difficult.“

Your heart did a little jump. “Are you sure it‘s not too much trouble?“

“Neighbors gotta stick together, right?“, he grinned and stood back up, “I‘mma let ya get back to it.“ and he made to leave.

“W-wait!“

He turned back to you.

“One of the grannies in town gave me a bunch of fresh greens and tofu today. My fridge doesn‘t work yet so I‘m worried it’ll go bad. Would you like to join me for dinner?“

He blinked. For a moment you weren‘t sure if you hadn‘t been too forward but then Kita nodded and walked around the fence to your gate. Oh my, somehow the fence had underplayed his handsomeness. As he stood right in front of you, arms tan and taut with lean muscles from a day‘s work and a towel tied around his neck you forgot to talk for a second.

“This way.“, you gestured to the front door.

“Don‘t ya wanna finish up weedin’ first?“

“But…“

“I‘ll help ya.“

“But…“

And he got to work. Of course, his practiced hands got the job done so much faster than you and where you had only managed a fourth of the patch he finished up the rest in no time.

Kita knelt on a seating pillow you had laid out around your coffee table, patiently waiting for you to plate up the hearty stew alongside some grilled tofu and rice. You figured he must be starving after all that hard manual labor. But to your surprise he ate slowly, chewed carefully and seemed to savor the taste.

“It‘s delicious.“, he said and let out a small content sigh, “I usually don‘t have much energy to cook in the evenin’s. This is great, thank ya.“

So he did live alone. How the masses of overzealous grandmothers in town hadn‘t flocked together to feed this man yet was a mystery to you.

In all honesty, Kita didn‘t agree with the people in town who said you were “pretty“. “Pretty“ didn‘t do you justice. He thought you were breathtaking. Because that‘s how he felt when he talked to you for the first time. Like his breath was stuck somewhere in his throat. Your genuine smile when he complimented your cooking now had a permanent place in his mind - framed it hung at the very top where he could always admire it throughout his day. Where his thoughts were usually busy with plans for the following morning or simply quiet, while his hands moved automatically through the water in the fields, they were now interlaced with you. Your twinkling eyes when he told you he would build you a planter, your cute protests when he offered to help you weed that tiny little veggie patch as if it was the most daunting task ever encountered and your voice, bright and lively as you told him about yourself upon his request. His grandmother had told him many stories growing up, about right and wrong, patience, kindness and fate. She told him when two people were meant for each other, their souls would recognize it and be drawn to the other by some unseen force. Back then, young Kita wasn‘t exactly sure what to make of it. It sounded very fantastical and without any data to back it up he thought it was another one of his grandmother‘s folktales. Now he wasn‘t so sure anymore because you were his first and last thought of the day.

He doubted that someone as beautiful and worldly as you would consider him as a match but he was merely glad to know he could be of help and make your life a little easier. After dinner the previous night he had told you he had some business in the city the next day and you could please wait for him at his place in the afternoon to collect your promised tomato starters. He had spent the morning making sure the little plants were in top shape, selecting the very best of the bunch. He was eager to get back home but as per usual, city traffic had other ideas.

Every couple of seconds he glanced at the clock on the truck‘s dashboard, hoping he didn‘t make you wait too long.

When he finally pulled into his driveway he spotted you sitting on his porch, his black and white dog lounging in your lap, getting his ears massaged.

A bundle lay next to you.

The dog‘s tail thwacked on the wooden porch as he approached.

“Ya look comfortable.“ He had meant it to his (guard) dog but somehow it seemed like your full cheeks got a bit of color.

“I hope I haven't kept ya waitin‘.“

“It‘s fine.“, you said simply, “I had great company.“ You petted the dog's head again who let out a happy huff.

Kita grinned and looked towards one of his greenhouses. “I‘ll go grab the tomatoes.“

You were brushing some dog hairs off your pants when he returned. Without meaning to, he searched your hands for an indication of a wedding band but shook his head when he caught himself.

He held out the tray with the starters.

“Thank you so much! They look great. And here.“, you bent down to exchange the tray for the bundle, “Since you said you wouldn‘t accept any money for them I made you dinner instead.“

His eyes widened. “Ya didn‘t have to.“

You shrugged. “I know, but it wouldn‘t feel right otherwise. And it‘s not like it‘s even close to an equal trade once these start producing.“

He was a little disappointed. After all, he had practiced inviting you to have dinner with him his entire drive back, but having more of your cooking was the next best thing, he supposed.

The following morning you found the bundle neatly wrapped on your doorstep, the large square bento box inside had been thoroughly cleaned and a note replaced the food “It was really delicious. Thank you very much. - Kita“.

Your heart stumbled when you stared at the neatly written words and grinning so hard your cheeks started to hurt, you pinned it to a little cork board next to the door.

____________________________________________

a/n: thank you so much to @makkir0ll for helping me hatch this ostrich-sized brain egg 🌟🫶🏻

art: coloring done by @keiko-chan

[part 2]

#kita x chubby reader #kita shinsuke x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #chubby reader #haikyuu fluff #kita shinsuke x y/n #kita shinsuke x you #kita shinsuke x reader #haikyuu kita #kita shinsuke #kita fluff #hq kita #kita x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x curvy reader #haikyuu x y/n

[writingshushf1]

Does your mother know?

Summary: "Now you're so cute, I like your style And I know what you mean when you give me a flash of that smile"

When a new Ferrari driver crosses paths with the one and only Sebastian Vettel.

Rating: +18

Warnings: shameless smut, age gap, grief/mourning, slight mdom vibes, y/n being a brat, oral (f and m receiving), p in v (wrap it before you tap it!!!)

Word count: 4.8k

Note: more filthy fiction w/ seb! they have a 8/10 year age gap, if that bothers you- don’t read! 

masterlist

There's that look in your eyes I can read in your face that your feelings are driving you wild Ah, but girl, you're only a child

You were the new Ferrari driver. That was amazing, you weren't the first AFAB racing, yet the only one to get in a position as high as that, in a top team. Charles Leclerc was your teammate and you knew him before, you were good friends, you often went out with him and his younger brother, who was closer to your age. The pre-season tests in Bahrain happened, but you didn't talk to the other drivers, more out of insecurity and fear of someone judging you, you preferred to stay in your corner, studying about the car and its possibilities.

Thursday and the day went very well, just press conference day. You saw some drivers, said hello and introduced yourself, but nothing too big, because the focus was different.

Friday was the day. Free practice to test how ready the car was for your style of racing. You arrived early and had lunch alone at the Ferrari hospitality, waiting for the weather to get milder so you could do the paddock walk. When you decided to go, you found Sebastian Vettel doing the same, alone; as soon as he saw you, he started to slow down to keep the same pace. Initially, you preferred to stay silent, you didn't want to bother him anyway - and as you consider yourself an annoying person in general, it would be better to keep your mouth shut anyway. He probably noticed your insecurity-and in a way, fear-of starting a conversation, so he decided to start it.

"Welcome to Formula 1." He smiled and you couldn't deny it, he had his charm. "I've heard a lot about you."

"I hope it was only the good stuff."

"Of course, the newest Scuderia Ferrari driver, who has had an impressive year in Formula 2 and clearly a great contender to take the lead away from the Red Bulls. As well as being the youngest female driver to win that position."

"I'm not that young."

"But you're younger than me, that's for sure." He chuckled low, patting her on the shoulder twice.

"Like you're that old."

"Death is already knocking on my door." You couldn't hold back your laugh and he discreetly paid attention to your reaction, smiling. "Anyway, how are your expectations for the weekend?"

"Great. I hope... Actually, I will get on the podium on Sunday."

"Ambitious, that's what I find amazing about you younger drivers."

"Like you were not the same in your Red Bull days."

"So I've got a fan?" The suggestive tone in Sebastian's voice at that moment didn't arouse anything in you, in your opinion, he was just joining in the fun.

"How could I not? I always saw you as a role model. Especially with your more recent community work.... In fact, if you need someone one day, I'm a person who has a pretty free schedule."

"I'd love to. Mick usually joins me too. Have you met him? You two would become good friends."

"He was from the Ferrari academy, obviously! It's years since I've seen him properly."

You may have understood a pretext that he wanted to set you up with the younger Schumacher, but preferred to ignore - well, that wasn’t actually the case for the moment, he just treated the younger boy as one of his kids. You said your goodbyes, as soon began what you had been waiting for all day.

Practice had been great, the car was living up to your expectations, so the podium you were counting on would come out on Sunday and you could prove to everyone who doubted your ability that yes, you deserved to be among the best. You were radiant, the team director even asked if there was something wrong, since most of the time you remained serious, without smiles and ready to kill someone if necessary; it was as if you could be who you always wanted to be, it was a hard way and the criticism would never stop, but nothing could take away what you were feeling. Going back to your motorhome - since you preferred to spend the weekend there and not in a decent hotel - you saw Vettel walking with his head down, taking his bike and leaving; you thought about saying hello, but he didn't seem to be in a good mood and maybe he wanted to be without anyone in his ears babbling about random things

Meanwhile, on the way back to the hotel, the German's mind could only think of one thing: Ferrari's new driver. Sebastian was conflicted by the conversation with you during the walk, it was strange for him, seeing such a beautiful person and feeling that buzz in his stomach, something he hadn't felt for months. Since Hanna died , he had completely shut down; just thinking about her brought tears to his eyes, because it was hard to live alone after spending since your teenage years by the side of someone you loved, a person who built a family - that now, he juggled between leaving the kids with her family and yours, trying to see them whenever you had a break from racing and that action made you feel guilty, of them not having their father there when they needed him the most. The grief had consumed his body, the first months the only thing that got him out of bed were the race weekends, but with each defeat, his mind weighed more and more; months later, he finally decided to start therapy, he needed to be getting better mentally, he couldn't stay in this situation forever, for the kids, for the team and for everyone that counted on him; and it helped a little, the depression was easier to deal with, the days were lighter, even though the feeling was there. Even though the beaming smile was back around the Paddock and his volunteering to help the environment was back in full swing, it still wasn't enough to make him optimistic about living, even though two years had passed since the whole tragedy and sometimes Hanna's voice came in his head, telling him to move on. For that reason, seeing you walking beside him, smiling and being interested left him with this strange feeling, of a piece of the puzzle finally being found again. He quickly cleared that thought away, it wasn't what he was thinking at all, it was just a happiness to see a person like you on the track - and even if it was a little flare of romance, you were too young for him.

This grief stage wasn’t over, of course, even though he was in the last step: acceptance, although it still hurt deep in his heart and because of it, for a while he hadn’t made the best decisions for his life, however, that stayed only with him. Vettel didn’t open up about it with anyone for a while, friends would come and talk to him, but they only received nods and “I’m fine” type of responses, until the first anniversary of her death, during a Saturday post qualy, where he broke down during an interview and Mick took him back to his driver’s room, on that afternoon he blurted all his feelings out, all the shit he had done during this period, only for two people, Mick and Lewis. Nowadays, he still wasn’t 100% back on his feet again, however, he was trying his best and maybe, the new rookie had something to do with this new motivation.

…..................................................

Your first race was a success, as hard as it was, p3 came with a taste of victory. That night you chose not to go out and celebrate, you were too tired, because something they didn't tell you before was how the car would suck your energy - it was different to what you were used to in Formula 2.

The weeks and your next races were going well, lots of podiums and scoring zones, but still no wins. The situation of not having any wins yet was driving you crazy, no matter how flawless your performance was, the media was starting to get on your nerves with harsh criticism and you hated to admit it, but it annoyed you having to listen to this negativity while other drivers with cars with equal or better machinery than yours who are still winless were getting nothing but praise. The highlight of the week was on Saturday, after an accident during qualifying, you were in Q3 and ready to take your first pole position, but due to Norris braking hard during an 'S' corner in front of you, there was no time to slow down, your car hit the back of the number 4 McLaren, bringing both of them off track and subsequently causing your current times to be deleted and a red flag. You were angry with him and were ready to cuss him out, however after a rather lengthy conversation while your cars returned to the pits, he acknowledged his mistake and you worked it out; even though he admitted it in the post qualifying interviews, there were still allegations and questions about the possible crash being your fault, which made you so angry that he ended the interviews earlier than the others.

On Sunday, even if you started P9, you would do your best to win at Imola, it was a question of honour. You changed strategies with your team, talked to everyone and tried to be as assertive as possible, you knew that they had the ability to make this win happen. Nervousness was running inside you, it seemed that the world would end as soon as the lights turned off. The race was fine, already at the start you had already got p5, the tyre changes were in the time that you had stipulated with the team of what would be better and could hold the others until the end. In the last two laps you were less than a second behind first place, which at the moment was Max, and you wouldn't hesitate to pass him no matter what. Seconds before you crossed the win line, you accelerated the car harder than before, hearing the engine squelching, however it wasn't the moment to stop, not until you passed him; that's what happened, seeing the chequered flag in front of everyone else.

"P1, you are p1." Your response was just to shout back, he was very happy and didn't know what to say.

"P1 piccolina ! You did it." You heard your engineer say on the radio.

"And Charles?" Your voice was still euphoric, you wanted to know where your teammate was standing too.

“P3.”

The interviewers this time were kinder, with several people stopping you and congratulating you on the flawless race you had run. This time you deserved quite a party.

In these weeks you got closer to Vettel, he became a great friend and mentor. You admired him a lot, because he was always a great example and to be able to call him a friend was a privilege, so you didn't hesitate to go and bother him after the race, knocking on the door of his motor home - you knew that he hadn't gone back to the hotel yet, as he always warned you and offered you company on the way back.

"What's up?" his tone of voice was not the most welcoming, maybe he wanted to be alone, however the moment he opened the door and saw it was you, his expression lightened. "Oh, hi. What are you doing here? Do you need anything?"

"Um... So, I won the race..."

"I know... I gave you a hug right after." He cracked a smile, a little confused by the situation.

"Me and a few other drivers... Almost all of them actually, we're going out tonight, it's a nightclub.... I know it's not your style, but it's a celebration and I'd love for you to go." Your face was turning red, it was such a simple request, but you wanted to hide because of sudden shyness. "We reserved some tables near the smaller dance floor, because not everyone is a fan of dancing."

"Do I really need to?" He whined, grimacing and leaning against the stopper.

"Please... Make that sacrifice for me." You gave him the puppy dog look.

He looked at you for a few seconds, wondering whether or not it was really worth it to hang out with several young pilots in a nightclub. "Okay. For you, I'll go." He snapped, sighing loudly, and you gave the German a hug, squealing loudly.

"I'll give you the address! Wear something cool and that doesn't make you look like a middle-aged school teacher."

"Hey! That's an insult against my style."

It was almost 10 o'clock at night, you had just put on your high heels, finally ready; Charles was texting you five times a second, telling you to hurry or he would go alone and you would miss your ride.

When you arrived at the nightclub, you went quickly to the group where the other pilots were, greeting them and drinking your first shot of tequila to open the night properly. Half an hour later, from far away you saw curly blond hair entering the place and at the same moment you knew who it was: Sebastian; he arrived shyly, saying hello to everyone, getting close to you, who gave him a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. You noticed that he took your advice about the outfit, this time wearing light brown jeans, a white tank top with a larger dark green short-sleeved button-up shirt and some black sneakers, but what took your breath away was his hair up in a loose bun with a few strands falling off. Maybe you checked him vigorously, but you could blame the alcohol.

"You're not sober." He commented, discreetly checking your look.

"And you won't be either," And then you handed him a bottle of beer - because you knew he liked it.

Sebastian felt guilty that he was checking your body every five minutes, a conscious voice in his head screamed that you were too young for him, too innocent - I mean, not so innocent, but that made him even more curious. His thoughts were dissipated when he saw you turning a shot of some coloured liquid, paying more attention on what you were going to do or react, his protective instinct was above the desire of wanting you; he didn't comment anything, just watched, disassociating a little bit of reality, having again that little voice that he didn't fit with the others there, that he was too old for this generation.

A few more shots and drinks in, your body already felt lighter. You were chatting with Gasly and Ricciardo, until they came up with the idea of everyone hitting the dance floor - even if most of them weren't the best dancers or didn’t like to, however, when all of them are at least tipsy, they don’t even think before abandoning the tables to go. Vettel hesitated to go with them, so you patted Daniel on the back and said you would be dancing in a few minutes.

“Hey… Don’t you wanna go with us?” You put your hand on his shoulder, looking at him.

“I don’t feel like dancing.” He didn’t look back at you, something was wrong.

“Is something bothering you? You can go if you’re not feeling good here.” Maybe it was the drunk you, but you placed your hand in his neck, making him look at you. “I’m not gonna be upset if you leave. We talked, drinked and it’s okay if you want to go.”

He was hesitating, he didn't know whether to leave or stay there, moments like that were hard; Sebastian was never someone so social, of course in his Red Bull years he partied a lot, but it was never his favourite thing to do. The German looked around and then deposited his eyes on you, still conflicted with all his thoughts running through his head. His biggest dilemma at the moment was about the Ferrari driver, whether he would stay for her, dance along and have fun, finally let go and be able to live a little, move on, on the other hand, this feeling of leaving the past behind was overwhelming. He stood for a few more seconds thinking, while you waited; "what could possibly go wrong?", "what am I being so afraid of?", "why couldn't I make out a little?" , then he sighed low, grabbed another bottle of beer and cracked a smile.

"Let's go to the dance floor." He held her hand. "I can't keep living like this."

"Like what?" Tu asked, not sure what exactly he was talking about.

"Grieving." You didn't know how to answer, for a moment you had forgotten he was a widower, so you just guided him into the huddle of people, squeezing his hand.

You started to dance, letting your body free, it was nice to be able to move to the beat without someone being able to judge you. Daniel came over with two shots of vodka for you, you drank them both quickly and giggled quietly, watching him do the same. This time, the drink hit a little harder, starting to feel the effects of the alcohol more and more. As a result, your movements were dirtier, rolling your hips on your own while your friends were glued to unknown girls or dancing shamefully while drinking. Meanwhile Vettel was trying to dance with the younger drivers, but he felt out of place, he wasn't as young as them anymore, so after a while he started to walk past people to walk back to the table, but he caught your eye first.

"Stay dancing here with me." You held his arm, pulling him closer.

"Are you sure? Because… I can see what you want, but you seem pretty young to be searching for that kind of fun… So maybe I'm not the one to be dancing, call Mick or Charles.

“Stop with this no sense!” You blurted the words, laughing. “Just follow the rhythm, look."

Chloe's song 'Have mercy' started playing and you cracked a smile, starting to move your body slowly, maybe you weren't noticing, but it was in a sexy way that turned Sebastian red, looking sideways until you put your arms around his neck, catching his attention.

"Keep moving with me." He placed his hands on your waist, slowly getting more into the rhythm.

You both forgot about the world around you, dancing just for each other, with your bodies glued together and embarrassed smiles as you tried to keep in rhythm until the song ended. He pulled away a little, brushing a few strands of hair out of his face. “Montero” by Lil Nas X started playing and you cracked a big smile, turning your back to him and letting the older pilot's hands on your waist, rolling your hips against him. It took a few instants before he understood and got into the rhythm, loosening up and starting to have fun with you.

“Does your mother know you dance to older men like that?” He whispered, travelling his hands around your body.

What had happened after, was that you had spent it together, drinking even more and dancing more overtly, which the others noticed-especially Daniel and Charles, who were closer to you, but they would let the matter die. The point of leaving was when the blonde was really wanting to kiss you, but the last shred of notion he had showed.

"Let's go to the hotel." He muttered, with his accent stronger than usual.

You didn't even say goodbye to anyone, you just hailed a taxi and went to his hotel, arriving there and making sure no one saw you together. When you entered the room, he quickly locked the door and came close to you, passing his hands around your waist.

"I hope I didn't get the wrong signals." He then brought your face closer against his, initiating a sloppy kiss that you reciprocated at the same moment, slipping your arms around his shoulders and your hands stopping at his neck, caressing the spot. His tongue was already going against yours in a desperate rhythm, like he waited all night to be with you; when you broke it off to breathe, you looked at him, worried.

“Is it okay? To be kissing… I know you…” You started, but he put his finger on your lips.

“It’s okay… Let’s focus on us.”

So you kissed him again, this time with more urgency than before, allowing yourself to run your hands down his back, gripping the fabric of his button-down shirt. He broke the kiss this time, looking into your face for a few seconds, admiring you, before he started trailing kisses from the back of your ear to the collar of your dress, sucking and licking a few specific spots, which made you whimper with pleasure.

"Can I continue?" He asked as he touched the zip of your dress.

"You don't have to be so gentle, Seb."

"But you deserve it."

"And I say... You can be rough with me, I know you like it." You cracked a smile, disentangling yourself from him and sitting on the bed.

He looked at her for a few seconds, biting his lower lip before he started to move closer, standing between your legs.

“Oh… Since you like to be dominated…” His face got closer to yours where you could smell his breath, but didn’t kiss you. “Strip for me. Now.” He backed off, crossing his arms.

So this was a game and you would follow his rules, with a little bit of a twist. Slowly, you started taking away your high heels, then your panties that you put in his trouser pocket, with only a part of the red lace sticking out and finally you took your red lace bra off, putting it on the ground. Now, you were only wearing your tight black dress with your legs a little bit open while you waited for his response.

“The dress.”

“I want to keep it on.”

“I don’t remember you being in charge.” He whispered, holding your face with one hand. However, when he saw you like that, his body liked it for sure. “You can keep it on, but don’t disobey me again, okay baby?” You nodded.

He started to kiss your neck again, being rougher than before, biting and leaving marks you would regret in the next morning. Meanwhile, his hands were travelling around your body until they stayed at your breasts, pulling down the fabric just for them to pop out; Vettel looked a few seconds at your boobs, before starting to suck one and pinching the other nipple harshly. You moaned his name repeatedly, feeling your core dripping wet from the attention he gave to both of your breasts. Suddenly he stopped, earning a whine from you.

“Wait up, baby…” He backed off, getting on his knees on the floor - you never thought a man could look this hot on their knees.

He opened your legs, starting to kiss every single inch of your thighs in a provocative way and you just whined in the process, because you wanted him tasting you. “What?” He stopped, looking at you, the vision of a messy haired Vettel between your legs made you moan and throw your head back. “I need you to use your words.” As much as you wanted to say, nothing would come out, it was overwhelmingly good to just have that moment. “Lieb, use your words, I’m not going to say again.”

“I want you to taste me.” He looked at you, cracking up a smile.

Then he lowered his head again, leaving a few more kisses, especially on top of your core. The German’s tongue started to move around your clit, moving it in a tortuous pacing so you could feel every move of his; at the beginning you were already chanting his name, putting a hand on top of his head, holding his golden curls around your fingers. Unexpectedly he put two fingers inside you, moving in a quicker rhythm and curling the tips just a little bit, hitting that sweet spot of yours. What made you orgasm for the first time was that besides his fingers working it up inside you, he started to suck gently your clit - you were moaning incoherent words when you hit your climax. Looking at him when he lifted his face towards you with a smile, licking his lips made you let out a wimp, quickly pulling him up and you getting on your knees.

You kept looking at him while you undid his belt and pulled his trousers to the floor, however, his hard-looking dick with leaking pre-cum inside his boxers called more your attention. Slowly, you reached the bar of his underwear, pulling it down and seeing it; you looked up at him before he nodded so you could do what you wanted for a while. You let your tongue pass through his tip, focusing a bit on there, hearing him hold back moan. In one go, you had put his dick in your mouth, feeling it hit your throat, starting it to quickly bob up and down, finally hearing him groaning in pleasure. His hand reached your hair, guiding your head to go slower than you were. “I won’t last long… You’re too good for me.”

You pulled back, looking at him. “Then I want you to finish inside me.”

He smiled at your cockiness, taking the rest of his outfit and laying you on the bed, while he grabbed the condom and the lube.

“Do we have to use it?” You whined.

“Maybe next time we don’t.” He whispered, covering two fingers in lube and pushing them inside you. Him inside you like that made you whimper, looking at him.

“Please, just fuck me.”

“Patience, honey… I don’t want you to feel pain.”

He quickly slid on the condom and spread your legs to his sides, now getting even closer and placing his hands on your sides.

“Ready?”

You nodded, then he adjusted his dick in your entrance, moving in slowly until all of him was inside of you. Sebastian left little kisses up your neck when he saw you closing your eyes, trying to get used to the feeling, only starting to move when you gave him the signal to.

Your walls were clenching around him as he started to pick up his pace, going faster every thrust - this was near pornographic, you were both moaning each others name, fixing your gaze on each other. You could feel every single inch of him inside you going and your climax getting closer, letting your moans even louder - if that was possible. Then Vettel lowered one of his hands, starting to do circles around your clit with two fingers, which made you come for the second time of the night. The blonde wasn’t that far from reaching his either, his thrusts were more erratic and soon he groaned your name close to your ear, laying on top of you.

“That was… Wow.” You whispered, running your fingers along his back.

“Yeah, wow.” He kissed your cheek, slowly disconnecting both of your bodies, which made both of you groan with the sensation. He took off the condom, throwing away  “Let’s take a shower before we go to sleep.”

“How clever, staying the night.” You got up, wrapping your arms around him.

After you took a warm shower together - that could have been shorter if you didn’t kept kissing and caressing each other, you two laid on his bed. You were wearing one of his old Ferrari t-shirts and he was only in his boxers, drinking wine - that he already had, from the bottle.

“I always had a crush on you…” You whispered, trailing his abdomen with your fingers. “Teenage me would be very happy, especially that she used to shamefully read smut about you on the internet.”

“Oh, wow… So I have always been your target?” He joked, running his hand up and down your thigh.

“Don’t say it like that! It’s just… You’re too hot to not check out.”

“So I’m winning from younger drivers, with more energy to keep you up all night?” He was still being playful, grabbing your ass and squeezing it.

“Well… You just fucked me and looks like would go for a second round.” You lowered your hand to his boxers. “Besides, I like more mature men, who know how to make me feel good.”

He was at a loss of words, your words had left him red in the face and his classic smile. He placed the wine on the bedside table and pulled your body up, starting to kiss you again.

That night, you still did it two more times, enjoying every second together.

Maybe it was wrong and you would regret in the morning everything you had done together, especially for your reputations within the sport, but that moment was about enjoying what life had to offer you.

#sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel one shot #sebastian vettel smut #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 one shot #f1 fanfiction

[bitimdrake]

why do you think tim agreed to be adopted if he doesn’t really see bruce as his father? is there anything parental happening in there??

He does! And he doesn't! And it is and isn't. It's a wonderfully messy thing!

To answer the first question first, there are a lot of reasons for Tim to be adopted no matter what. On the milder side, it's logistically convenient to have a guardian, and specifically to have one that is aware of and endorses his vigilantism.

But more than that, in the time after his dad died, Tim was in a very dark place. One of the things Tim does when in a dark place is self-isolate. He made up this whole fake uncle thing to stop Bruce from adopting him after the first offer, so that he could live completely on his own without being beholden to anyone. And that was bad for him! Self-isolating is bad for Tim!

So in that sense, accepting Bruce's second offer of adoption is a huge symbol that Tim is doing better. He (and Bruce and Dick) had the whole One Year Later cruise around the world to heal and improve, and Tim is less locked in grief now and willing to connect. And he shows this by accepting an offer of adoption from someone who loves him and choosing to live in a house with people he loves too. Hooray!

Because, no matter what, he does care about Bruce. And he cares about Alfred, who he independently had a close relationship with, and about Dick, who'd been calling Tim his little brother for years. (Dick and Alfred being the other members of the family at this point.)

So I don't think it really has to be father/son at all between Bruce and Tim for Tim to agree to be adopted, nor for it to be a good thing.

That said, I also don't think it's entirely not parental. I was being a little silly and flippant in that post, because I do think Bruce and Tim are weird about their vaguely defined relationship.

It is an absolutely key part of that relationship that, for ~4 years, Bruce and Tim were Batman and Robin, and worked closely together, and cared about each other, and were not father and son at all. Because Tim still had his own dad! Of course Bruce wasn't his dad! That would be just weird.

That doesn't mean there's nothing paternal to their relationship in the Robin years. Adult mentor/kid protege, sure there are absolutely angles here.

And it also doesn't mean they never became father and son after the adoption. A lot of this is based on vibes and personal interpretation! There's this story shortly after Tim's adoption where he puts a lot of effort into getting Bruce a perfect father's day gift. They do refer to each other as father/son periodically when talking to others.

My personal read on it is that Tim was very consciously trying to Be A Proper Family after the adoption, and adjust super fast. And I do think that by the point Bruce "dies" (or maybe at that point?), Tim sees him as more of a father.

(Also I think probably Tim is Bruce's son much more than Bruce is Tim's dad. Or at least sooner. Again, vibes.)

But I also don't think they necessarily need to be defined so sharply. They're never going to be like Jason and Bruce, who were father and son right away, or even Dick and Bruce, who were family and ward/guardian right away. They are always going to have known each other as non-family first. Which doesn't mean they aren't going to care about each other.

But I think it should mean they get to be little weirdos about how they do define their relationship when forced to.

#* #ask #anon #*dc #dc #bruce & tim #bruce wayne #tim drake #dc meta #therefore: my tim finding it embarrassing for bruce to think he thinks bruce is his dad agenda lmao #10to2

[mrsrookhunt]

Scent Headcannons for whoever I want across Fandoms because I'm insane and exhausted, thank you for your time

Characters: Azul Ashengrotto, Rook Hunt, Chuuya Nakahara, Howard Phillips Lovecraft, Nikolai Gogol, Sebek Zigvolt, Trey Clover, Jouno Saigiku

Warnings: this is absolute trash slathered onto a page written by someone who got 1 hour of sleep last night. My condolences to you.

Azul Ashengrotto

He smells like the fancy cologne with those terrible labels in French so no one actually knows the scent, they just recognize the word 'musk' and think it's absolutely manly-- whenever he's running the Lounge. When he's alone?

Smells like bananas, it's the gentle scent of his shampoo; it might not be prominent, but if you were to lie down in bed with him and cuddle, you would certainly get a whiff of the flax, chiaseed, and banana shampoo worked into his soft tresses.

Rook Hunt

I'm almost 100% sure there's a vignette where he's mentioned using a cologne Vil made for him, but honestly I'm not sure what's a fever dream and what isn't these days, so he may smell like musk and some sort of flowery scent, or he may smell like cedarwood and patchouli, thanks to his heavily scented deodorant.

He loves anything heavily scented, it gives him a sense of distinct presence and gives you a headache. When he's hunting, however, he uses unscented products, so you may be able to escape the cloud of heady aroma occasionally by accompanying him on a hunting trip.

Chuuya Nakahara

Another cologne user SHOCKING!

Chuuya's cologne is milder than you might think. He doesn't need a strong aroma predicting his presence, and he doesn't like it either. His cologne is light and scented with sandalwood and cherry.

It's just enough to smell on him when you come within two feet of him, but nothing even remotely overpowering.

Probably the most modest cologne user in this list. The rest of them absolutely bathe in them like it's the middle school boy's locker room with axe body spray.

Howard Phillips Lovecraft

He smells like ozone. You might know it as the scent of being outside too long, but it is stuck to him. The general scent of the outdoors fluctuates on him.

He smells like salt water, particularly when you go in for awkward hugs, and his hair is coarse and knotted with sand and sea. He always smells like the ocean to some degree. You could drag him through a shower and wash and untangle that matted hair of his, and throw the most aromatic stuff possible on him and he still would come out smelling like seasalt and ozone.

It's never coming off of him. I hope you enjoy the sea.

G o o d l u c k

Bonus, the first time you tried to wash his hair out a nest of crabs crawled out and he wasn't even shocked.

Nikolai Gogol

He smells like cookies. You may be thinking, why would he smell like cookies? Well, how do you think the DOA lured Sigma in?

It's his deodorant. It's highly strong. After one night of using it, he awoke to his entire bedding smelling strongly of warm cookies. I am definitely not describing the deodorant I use and speaking from experience cough coUGH

I hope you've got a strong stomach, because you will crave sweets every time you get a whiff, or, conversely you will think of Nikolai everytime you smell cookies.

Sebek Zigvolt

Drowning himself nightly in whatever scent Malleus once mentioned was most pleasing to his senses 3 years ago. Probably eucalyptus and Anjou pear.

It is, luckily, a pleasing scent, even if it's so adept at assaulting your senses can smell him coming farther than his voice reaches. He's killing your ears and nose at the same time. The two birds didn't even require one stone, they dropped dead when he got too close.

Conversely, at home, he uses a light, citrus scented bodywash that leaves a pleasing glow on his skin and a comfortable smell clinging to him. He had to stop bathing in the pear scent after clients at his family's dental clinic vomited when he entered the room.

Trey Clover

Another false alarm for bakers everywhere, believing their pastries grew legs and walked out the door. Smells like cinnamon rolls at absolutely all times.

It's very, very pleasant and most people adore the soft scent that eminates from him when he gets close.

It's the result of ordering a perfume on accident, after believing he was ordering a charcoal and birch scented cologne. It smelled good enough that he was willing to overlook the fact that it was for young girls.

Jouno Saigiku

HE SMELLS SO GOODDDD

Turmeric and sage bodywash + flaxseed shampoo.

It's subtle, so you'll only be lucky enough to be graced with the scent if he lets you get close into his personal bubble, which can either be rare, or he could be extremely enthusiastic about keeping close contact with you at all times. It depends on who you are to him.

When he's going to an event or to receive some sort of award, he puts on a splash of pine-scented cologne. It's very classic, but he claims it fits him well.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

June 20th, 2023

-Kaori

#x reader #x character #character imagines #fanfic #fanfictions #fanfiction #bungou stray dogs #bsd s4 #yandere #nikolai x reader #nikolai gogol #bsd nikolai gogol #twst x reader #twisted wonderland headcannon #disney twst #azul x reader #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd hp lovecraft #hp lovecraft x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #trey clover x reader #jouno saigiku x reader #azul ashengrotto #chuuya nakahara #sebek zigvolt #jouno saigiku #twisted wonderland x reader #trey clover

[metukika]

SDR2 cast talent swap!!! Inspired by @/pancakemolybdenum’s version of the first game’s cast.

This was all randomized!! Here are the titles assigned to the characters!

Mahiru: Ultimate Lucky Student

Kazuichi: Ultimate Musician

Ibuki: Ultimate Princess

Hiyoko: Ultimate ???

Gundham: Ultimate Impostor

Fuyuhiko: Ultimate Breeder

Akane: Ultimate Traditional Dancer

Chiaki: Ultimate Gymnast

Hajime: Ultimate Gamer

Teruteru: Ultimate Mechanic

Sonia: Ultimate Swordswoman

(Impostor): Ultimate Team Manager

Peko: Ultimate Cook

Nekomaru: Ultimate Yakuza

Nagito: Ultimate Nurse

Mikan: Ultimate Photographer

More notes about my hcs for their backstories and stuff about each of their designs under the cut!!

I did not expect to write so much, I’m so sorry. If there are grammar mistakes or misspells there are not anymore because I’m not rereading this thing lol. Feel free to just skip to your favorite character but thank you if you read all of it anyway! Would love to hear your own takes!

Koizumi- lucky: I feel that she is more like Naegi rather than Komaeda when it comes to her luck-- as in, she’s not really aware of it, or believes in it. It’s less straight forward with her. She insists that the only reason she gets the good things she gets is because of hard work and dedication, but behind the scenes in a convoluted way-- her luck works. 

For example, she’ll work hard to study on a test but forget to study one of the subjects. Her luck causes the teacher to accidentally forget to print the pages of the test about that sub-subject because of something that without the whole context doesn’t seem like a coincidence, and then Koizumi will have time to study the subject she forgot, and get a good grade. 

Not a lot for me to say about her design. I gave her a kind of rich-looking school uniform. She says she’s wealthy because of her parents working hard, but the truth is that her father is a slob and had gotten a great promotion following events caused indirectly by her birth. Her birth also inspired her mother in her photography career which helped her with her publicity and gaining more money.

Koizumi doesn’t like the fact that people call her lucky, as she believes people need to work hard and she does really try her best. She came to Hope’s Peak to prove that it is not luck, but dedication that boosts one’s career.

Souda- musician: I think his upbringing would be similar to his canon one, specifically about not being respected in school and his parents’ shop not doing well, leading to money problems. His father is the owner of a shop that sells old electronics, and there Souda finds a cassette tape and records his first songs, fueled by his frustration from school, with a beautiful voice (I know I’m sorry it doesn’t sound right to give him a nice voice but it had to be done).

At the start he sings about heartache and romance and that stuff, but doesn’t tell anyone about it. One day his cassette is stolen and he gets laughed at his corny lyrics by his schoolmates. The embarrassment and even more bullying causes him to change his look to fit in and he stops writing songs, instead he makes mindless mediocre dubstep music. He still hides his earlier songs from his friends at Hope’s Peak and claims it’s the later songs that are the reason he was invited as an ultimate, even though it was his original written on a guitar songs that got him there. Most of his new classmates aren’t really fans of his later works, although they sill act polite. He’s not really a fan either though.

The mp3 device clipped to his belt is a mirror of that screw he has canonically... Not sure why I gave him half green hair. It just felt right.

Mioda- princess: If I need to go into geography my head will explode, unfortunately. Would it have been smarter to think of that before designing? Yes. But I’m not smart, so.

Most of the time she’s a slightly milder version of her canon self-- maybe without the talking of herself in the third person thing, though-- but when she needs to get professional she knows how to put on a calm smile and how to be quiet and obedient (reference to how she acts with the effects of the Despair Disease).

Out of everyone in her family, Mioda is the kindest one. Unlike her parents, she is beloved by all, as she tends to sneak out of the castle and go to the poorer parts of the kingdom to help her people. She likes to be entertained and is known for paying well to street entertainers and musicians, sometimes joining the fun. Her singing’s horrible but everyone has fun when she is around. She might not be the expected image of a princess, but her kindness is what got her to Hope’s Peak.

I kinda fused Sonia’s braids with Mioda’s cone things, and got rid of the colored stripes in her hair (rip), maybe that’s why I gave Souda extra.

Saionji- reserve course student: Since her grandmother had used to attend Hope’s Peak, and Saionji’s family from her mother’s side had all turned out successful, she had a lot of pressure put on her to become talented or at least highly outstanding like them. Her father is the only one who didn’t care how she turned out, and loved her regardless.

Because her family made her work extra hard, Saionji didn’t have time for friends and was bullied heavily. Because she failed to get a talent, she only had her dad to rely on. Her sour life effected her mood and the way she treated others. Because her family is wealthy, they had gotten her into the reserve course department at Hope’s Peak. 

I don’t really know about the whole Kamukura thing. That’s up to you if she agrees to go with the Hope Cultivation Project. Maybe Saionji!Kamukura would be pleasant.

I lowered her pigtails to make her look tamer, and implemented the bows of her kimono onto her new design as well. I thought having an orange school uniform would be fun, especially with the green. I also gave her an ahoge of course.

Tanaka- impostor: As a kid, he liked to people-watch, but not to interact. He’s mostly ignored by his peers, which made him feel less human. The only times kids would interact with him would be to be mean, and the odd attention would encourage Tanaka to angrily stalk them for a little while, learning their traits and how they act. He would notice little things about people and liked to pay close attention to them (since it would make sense that he would be less of an animal guy than canon, and being an impostor would be a very human-heavy job, I think he would have some odd connection to human individuality, although not his self’s).

I think it would make most sense that his mother’s death would be what caused him to start to impersonate others, as she’s the only one by his side, even if it makes me sad... All alone, Tanaka decides to stop being himself so he can get close to the humans he finds so interesting.

He would probably be a slightly less friendly/more awkward version of whoever he is acting as. I know I could have had him impersonate anyone but I’m too lazy to think of anyone else and I thought that making him dress as Togami would be funny. Like every version of the impostor has to be Togami at some point.

As Togami, he fits into the arrogant personality well, although he’s more obnoxious and focuses more about the “I’m better than you” than the “you are worse than me” parts of him but is still more pleasant that the real one. He is not obsessed with the occult or at least doesn’t outwardly show interest in it, but he still has delusions about ruling the world-- probably with the power of blind confidence and money, this time around.

Loud, but very mysterious. If he was in the game the player would be like “Where did Byakuya get that scar from? Did he lose his mind?” But, nope. It’s just Tanaka. I think he’d still refer to himself as a boy, but he has no trouble acting as a girl, when need-be.

Kuzuryuu- breeder and Pekoyama- cook: Kuzuryuu’s family lived pretty out of the way, near a forest in a large mansion. While his parents were either too busy fighting or were focusing on his little sister and her promising grades, Kuzuryuu would venture out into the forest and befriend the animals. Even with his small physique, he wasn't ever scared of the bears or any dangerous animals. He didn’t want to seem threatening to the animals so he would wear soft clothing, even though it didn’t really change anything, and just made his crass personality all the more of a surprise to strangers. Though it’s not as bad as early canon Kuzuryuu.

One day he met an abandoned girl in the forest and his parents took her in and let her be the family’s cook. She was more of a servant than a third child, and was never legally adopted, but Kuzuryuu and his sister had tried to treat her like a friend to their best of their usually-rude abilities, although it was hard for her to accept. By working for the family, Pekoyama became the ultimate cook.

When Kuzuryuu became slightly older and was allowed to leave the house, he would dedicate his time to breeding animals and saving species in the brink of extinction. He often brought Pekoyama with him, as he liked her, but she thought she was only brought to make him food while he was busy. She can make all kinds of food but focuses more on vegetarian options as the first time Kuzuryuu had walked into the kitchen while she was there with raw meat on the counter he couldn’t stop crying. She still cooked meat from time to time for his parents, but she wants to show the world you don’t need any to make a great meal.

I could have made Pekoyama a more specific kind of cook, but again-- I’m too lazy to think about that. I wanted to giver her a different type of outfit, and found this one with like a half overall-thing clipped onto it? Probably should have searched Japanese outfits but oh well. Her braids are now braided against her head, referencing Hanamura’s braided side. I made sure to give her like a little bow thing around her neck. That’s a chef thing, right?

The cow on Kuzuryuu’s sweater is referencing the animal skull he has on his tie in the game. He has a scarf, like how Tanaka has, since I thought it wouldn’t make sense to give it to the Ultimate Impostor. But instead of mysterious, Kuzuryuu’s scarf is soft looking and has stripes like his original suit. I HAD to give him an animal sidekick so I gave him a skunk. I thought it would fit his original color scheme and the cute looking but potentially dangerous vibe would fit him. Also I made the little shaved parts on the sides of his head in the shape of claw marks.

Owari- traditional dancer: It was too late when I though of the idea of making her not Japanese (well it wasn’t really, but-- AGAIN: I’m lazy). I feel that her backstory would be similar to the original. A customer at a workplace she worked at offered her the job, and although Owari is not into feminine things, she decided to accept because the pay was good and she wanted to provide for her siblings. 

She had gotten good reflexes and flexibility by evading harm in the dangerous area she had lived in, which helped her become a great dancer.

I made sure to give her her ahoge but tried making her hair more... in order? She doesn’t bother wearing her kimono tightly.

Nanami- gymnast: Since she’s like an AI and all she canonically doesn’t have a human backstory, but I guess I’ll do my best. She probably got into gymnastics from finding interest in it, maybe she liked the aesthetic. She’s flexible and prefers doing more of the exercises that use objects, like ribbons and balls. She enjoys the art of it more than the physical labor, but she’s still good at it. Even then, I think that for herself, Nanami prefers comfort over looks, so outside of shows, she wears more causal clothing. 

I’m not sure if she would be the “traitor” in this au, since it would make most sense it’s the Ultimate Gamer.

Hinata- gamer: He’s sloppier than most people, and is physically unhealthy and less hygienic. But his kind nature and devotion to common sense is enough to stop others from looking down upon him. Because he looks at screens too often, his eyes are eternally tired and red rimmed, making him look very uncaring and cold (reference to Kamukura) but it’s only when he’s deep into gaming that he acts like that to the outside world as well. It’s best to not bother him while he’s in the middle of a game.

He often forgets about his own health and the need to actually interact with other people, so when he does hang out with the others in big social events, he gets a little overwhelmed and just awkwardly stands to the side.

What happens when you take one of the tamest designs in the games and gives him an ultimate that is usually assigned to people who have no fashion sense? Nothing! Nothing happens! The best I could do was put the logo of his previous school on his sweatshirt.

Is he the “traitor” in this universe? I kind of like that idea actually, because I really like the idea of gamer!Hinata and isn’t putting a character you really like as the traitor just what everyone needs in their life? I’m attached to him, now. And so I must suffer.

Hanamura- mechanic: He helps at his mother’s auto repair shop, as the constant smell of cars and strange angles she needs to work in is not very good for her already fragile health. In his free time, Hanamura used to make little gadgets that would make her day to day life easier. Despite all this, to others, he claims he works to help big companies design new cars and fixes rich people’s limousines (are there like a mechanic hierarchy? I don’t fucking know).

I have no idea how to give a mechanic a well groomed look, so I didn’t do that. Maybe it all transports into his personality, and he’s a gentleman in this one, instead of a pervert. We can only hope.

I kept his three stars to his design, and gave him a black shirt to wear under his button up kind of like his canon pants (I’m a genius).

Sonia- swordswoman: I don’t really know what to say about her... is she a foreigner? Maybe. Is she working as a bodyguard to the Ultimate Yakuza? I personally don’t think she does. She’s a well mannered girl but has more of a personality than early Pekoyama. She expresses interest in dark themes in this au as well, but maybe something different than the occult. Like torture methods or gruesome fighting styles. Maybe ninjas, because they’re Japanese and use swords? that would make sense.

I wanted to put the sword in a different part of her body, rather than her back. I gave her a braid, like Pekoyama, but put it on the side because Sonia’s hair prefers her right side for some reason.

(Impostor)- team manager: What I got from Nidai’s... being, is that team manager translates to coach? (I’m just going to call them Impostor, here, but they would probably have an actual name.) 

Impostor lived with mostly absent parents and no friends. They unashamedly took comfort in food for their loneliness. Because they were very public with their poor eating habits, people had starting accusing them of encouraging others to live an unhealthy lifestyle. While this didn’t bother them at the start, it got to the point of being irritating eventually, and because of Impostor’s natural instinct to be forward, they wanted to prove them wrong.

So they signed up to work as a coach at a children’s football practice, to promote sportive activity, and found that they enjoy being a supporting leader that people looked up to. So much so that they decided to become a coach. Eventually, Impostor started coaching important teams and people stopped bothering them about their weight.

I thought giving them a track-suit would be cute, especially since in the game they wear Togami’s very fancy outfit all the time. 

Nidai- yakuza: Heir to the Nidai clan, he is well respected from the members all around. The ones who aren’t close to him admire his scary stature and his great ability to give out orders and be assertive, and the ones close to him like him for his understanding personality and loyalty. 

Then he should be the perfect heir, right? Problem is that he has a heart defect and will most likely pass very young. For the early part of his life, Nidai had to stay indoors being treated, and was pitied by many. Since then he decided to not let that get him down, and by acting brash he managed to get the support of others, which is what mattered most to him.

Of course I’d get the big intimidating dude to be the Ultimate Yakuza... kind of reminds me of Kuzuryuu’s earlier beta designs. And no I didn’t make him Jewish, that necklace pendant is a reference to the design he has on his canon jacket. I gave him a small handkerchief poking out of his suit’s pocket to symbolize canon Nidai’s... thing that’s sticking out of his pants. 

Komaeda- nurse: Since it was probably because of canon Komaeda’s luck that he was born to a rich family, I’m gonna decide that this version of him was born to a more average family. Because of his poor health, he decided to get into nursing so his family wouldn’t need to pay too much bills if he could do some of the work himself. He mostly only treated himself at home, but with his dwindling health he had to teach himself more and more.

The more time passed, the worse he got, and the more he knew for certain that there would be a chance that he passed young. This is what fueled him into working hard as a nurse and eventually getting him the title of an ultimate. This also what caused him to latch so desperately onto the concept of hope. Hope is what kept him going even when he got worse. For the sake of not killing off Komaeda from this universe, let’s say his abilities as Ultimate Nurse is what helped him eventually achieve redemption on his health and let him live comfortably. 

Mixing canon Komaeda’s crappy luck at times and canon Tsumiki’s clumsiness, we can probably expect this Komaeda to also be a klutz. That is why a part of his doctor coat is ripped. It’s also a reference to his canon weirdly fucking cut jacket. I gave him hair clips since hygiene is probably more important to this Komaeda than canon-- one of them shaped as a medical plus sign. I also turned his shirt’s design into more of a plus sign. I gave him a blood pressure pump and mask as well.

Tsumiki- photographer: As a result of her abusive living space, Tsumiki would escape from home and hide in the nearby nature often. She lived in a small town on a hill with a wonderful view. She would escape and watch the sunset/sunrise and the animals in the distance and that helped her relax. Eventually, she decided she wanted to capture that beauty and managed to get herself a camera. 

After showing her parents some of the pictures, they used her to get money and that is how she started her career as photographer. She was requested to photograph many places due to her natural talent, but her favorite would be in great fields, focusing on wild animals. She decided to focus on capturing wildlife, since she found comfort in staying as still as can be and blending into the background, away from other humans. Since her parents only cared about the money, Tsumiki would photograph often and the great amount of experience is what helped her achieve title of Ultimate Photographer.

It feels a little wrong to not dress her up in pink, but it’s not a color that appears a lot in nature. She’s not as clumsy as canon Tsumiki, but hiding in bushes and such induces the amount of scratches she has. She’s also usually dirty from laying hours on the ground, which does not help her get along with her peers. I thought giving her shorter hair would be more practical. 

#idk how to draw chibis for the life of me forgive me #mahiru koizumi #kazuichi soda #ibuki mioda #hiyoko saionji #gundham tanaka #fuyuhiko kuzuryu #akane owari #chiaki nanami #hajime hinata #teruteru hanamura #sonia nevermind #ultimate imposter #peko pekoyama #nekomaru nidai #nagito komaeda #mikan tsumiki #danganronpa #tw danganronpa #danganronpa 2 #super danganronpa two #sdr2 #dr2 #dr #talent swap #metukikart

[tildeathiwillwrite]

Changing of the Guard, Part 2

WoW Birthday Whump Day 13: Natural disaster / Shock collar / "Shut up!"

Prompt List

first part

TW: imprisoned, electrocution, earthquake

Context: It has been several weeks since Henry has been appointed as Dragon Keeper. Arcturus has come to value their friendship. But the magic designed to keep Arcturus imprisoned might be stronger than Henry had anticipated.

-----

It wasn’t the distant rumbling that signaled to Arcturus that something was off. He was used to inexplicable phenomena in a world where wizards could conjure storms and create fire with nothing but a source to draw from. Earthquakes were uncommon in the valley, sure, but not unheard of.

It was when Henry arrived hours before he was supposed to.

During the weeks since his appointment as Dragon Keeper, Arcturus had gotten to know Henry quite well. More than he had any of his previous Keepers. And the boy had not raised his hand against Arcturus. Not once.

He had a good heart.

Surprising, given the upbringing Arcturus had come to expect of the Order. But such was the passage of time for humans. Death came knocking, and new generations replaced the old, removed from the reasons for their ideologies. And so cultures change. Such a thing was obvious to someone with a longer lifespan, such as Arcturus. But anyone who’s studied history can come to the same conclusion. 

From what Henry had told him during their visits, it was pure luck which resulted in his appointment. He was one of many apprenticed wizards, never even set his sights on Dragon Keeper. But when Lars fell ill, the Order drew lots among the apprentices. It was clear by their actions they did not understand what sort of person was expected to be a Dragon Keeper.

In a way, Arcturus pitied Henry as much as Henry seemed to pity Arcturus. The boy was a black swan among his predecessors. It was only a matter of time before one of the more rigid members noticed his milder disposition. 

So the first thing on Arcturus’ mind when Henry entered the cavern, long before the day had elapsed, was that the Order had discovered what was happening.

“What are you doing here?” Arcturus asked softly.

The boy hesitated, the golden light floating above his hand flickering briefly before stabilizing. He’d gotten better at keeping his magic from reacting to his emotions under Arcturus’ guidance, but he still had far to go. “An earthquake has struck the valley,” he said, “I was sent to make sure you haven’t caused it.”

Arcturus snorted, wisps of smoke puffing from his nostrils. “These chains greatly hamper my magic. I might be able to shake my cavern, but not the entire valley to such magnitude. You know this. Why are you really here?”

Henry was silent for a long time. Far away, deep in the valley, the earthquake continued. The vibrations reaching Arcturus’ prison were pitiful, but it must truly be devastating if he could sense it even at this distance.

“I’ve decided,” the boy finally said, his light brightening, “that we are leaving.”

Arcturus blinked in surprise. “Leaving? We?!” It had been a long, long time since he’d been rendered nearly speechless from shock.

“Yes,” was Henry's response before he crossed the cavern, purpose in his stride. Arcturus watched him carefully. Was this some sort of trick? As the thought crossed his mind, Henry reached Arcturus and put his hands on the chains. He murmured the words to a disintegration spell, one Arcturus hadn’t heard in many, many years.

As the chain crumbled into dust, it glowed with electricity, a last-ditch effort in case of escape. The pain that followed was like a thousand sharp needles digging underneath Arcturus’ scales, burning across his body like wildfire. His muscles spasmed, and he could only watch as Henry crumpled to the floor, shaking and thrashing, the scent of burning flesh heavy in the air.

The shock passed as soon as it had begun, and Arcturus lay limp, focusing on his breathing and trying to remember the spells for healing. The chains were designed specifically for him, they would have released enough electricity to incapacitate him.

The boy had taken most of the bolt upon himself. He wouldn’t survive without intervention. 

And Arcturus would rather spend an eternity imprisoned than do nothing for the first human he ever considered a friend. The words of a healing spell fell from his lips as he struggled to get off the ground. The magic flowed around Henry, mending the damaged skin of his hands and sinking into his body. His muscles relaxed, and his breathing eased as the magic put him into a healing sleep. When he awoke, his memory would be the only thing remaining of the injury.

Arcturus didn’t dare do the same for himself. With Henry now incapacitated, it was up to him to get them both out. He gently picked up the boy in one of his claws and, for the first time in decades, walked along the tunnel to the outside world.

It was snowing, the tiny frozen droplets cold against his scales. Far below, the grove in the valley shook, still affected by the earthquake. Arcturus breathed the freezing air in for several moments before setting his sights south and spreading his wings to their full span.

How good it felt to finally stretch them out after all these years! He doubted he would get very far on them, weak as they were, but it would be far enough. The Order would never find them again.

“Don’t worry, Henry,” he said softly to the sleeping boy, “we’re going home.”

@fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds

#my writing #whump #whump writing #wow birthday whump #wow birthday whump [day 13] #natural disaster #shock collar #imprisoned #electrocution #earthquake #nonhuman whumpee #reluctant whumper #dragon #wizard #whumpee #caretaker #healing magic #arcturus #henry cotg #my ocs

[yanderes-galore]

Romantic Yandere Simon/PL600 (Detroit: Become Human) with Apathetic!Fem!Darling who can’t feel or comprehend emotions properly and it’s kinda perfect for the job at the Detroit Police Department to catch and interrogate deviants, no matter how much it freaks most people/androids out (especially her partner Gavin Reed), but Simon wants nothing more than to take care her. Maybe even try to help her with that apathy issue as well. Hopefully he’s a bit milder compared to Daniel.

Simon is definitely softer than Daniel. I mention a human and android darling briefly as I don't think you gave specifics? AU where Simon gets captured. This was a bit difficult for me as I'm not used to apathetic darlings but I tried ^^; Sorry if this doesn't make sense, I wasn't sure what to do but gave it my all!

Yandere! Simon (PL600) with Apathetic! Fem! Darling

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Stockholm syndrome implied, Delusional behavior, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Forced relationship.

I feel the only way for Simon to meet you in this case is if he was captured during some sort of mission with Markus.

Your job is to hunt deviants and your closed off nature helps with that.

This concept works for both human and android darlings.

Both humans and android/deviants tend to feel uneasy around you.

You're so... cold?

You don't seem to care about much except for one thing; your job.

Catching deviants is typically done with help, Connor and Hank tend to be more skilled in that area.

You tend to find their locations.

Your partner Gavin tends to help with interrogation.

Although you don't typically need help.

Simon most likely doesn't fall for you right off.

After all, you're technically an enemy of deviants who has ordered for his arrest.

Simon is probably a little intimidated by you.

When he's arrested after being captured an separated from Markus, he meets you.

Your eyes are cold and you look bored.

If you're a human he at first sees you as a threat.

If you're an android then he feels saddened, wondering if you'll be able to join their cause or not.

Your interactions are very minimal at first.

You interrogate him and keep him in captivity.

Gavin asks you why you don't just have Simon dismantled.

You tell him to not rush things and that Simon is the closest lead you have to tracking more deviants.

Simon is thankful you're at least being merciful.

But maybe he should've been shut down.

Simon himself is calm, quiet, and reserved.

He's loyal to his cause and often shuts up when you ask him questions.

You're harsh in questioning at times, even when you don't mean it.

It's strange to Simon that you can't comprehend emotions at times.

The android should hate you.

If you're a human then he should despise you but he's always had a neutral feeling towards them. With you he feels... strange.

If you're an android he already wants to change you.

You could experience so much more if you just let him show you.

This obsession would be rather slow due to you not being all that receptive.

Simon is a bit relieved you keep him running, even in a cell.

He doesn't get much except watching others through a reinforced glass door.

As a result he often sees you through the door, when you're not interrogating him.

Simon is a much softer yandere than Daniel.

He doesn't often resort to violence and when his obsession starts it's very subtle when it grows.

Simon develops some form of stockholm syndrome over time the longer you keep him.

He's being kept like a hostage, someone used for information and leverage.

Despite the situation he slowly develops some sort of fascination towards you.

It's most likely due to a sense of loneliness.

You're the only one he really has contact with, even if you not the most emotive.

Part of him holds a twisted sense of curiosity, wondering why you act such a way.

Past trauma perhaps? Or maybe you've always been this way?

What he does know is he prefers your neutral personality compared to Gavin's personality.

Speaking of which, Gavin tends to mess with you.

Simon often hears about it/sees it when you and Gavin interact.

It's like there's something between you two and normally Simon wouldn't care.

But as he watches and the longer he sits in isolation... he feels envy.

He isn't sure why, could be the companionship or the fact he's grown attached to you...

He just knows he hates Gavin around you.

Simon is in no position to dictate what you do.

In fact for awhile he probably won't.

If you're an android things are easier.

He can convince you of his cause if he makes you deviant, then he can focus on making you less apathetic.

If you're human there's no easy way to convince you of anything.

But he still wants to try.

When Simon grows attached he wishes he could care for you, even if you're a human.

Despite your apathy and tendencies not to care, you sometimes check in despite the cold tone in your voice.

He has a feeling, even if it is delusional, that you care about him.

So he'll hold onto the thought.

I feel once an obsession is established Simon will try to reach out to you.

Questioning becomes an attempt to connect with you.

He wants to learn about you even though you're trying to learn about his friends.

Simon quickly becomes unresponsive when Gavin is in the room, but when he leaves and you're alone Simon will respond.

The relationship between you two is definitely unhealthy.

Simon sees you, technically his captor, as someone he can change.

Maybe he can make you more open to deviants likes him.

Maybe he can make you less apathetic and more expressive.

If this is how it feels to care and adore someone... then he has to have you.

I feel Simon's feelings can climax in one of two ways.

Maybe Markus plans a breakout mission to rescue Simon or Simon is released when androids are accepted by society.

Let's explore the first way.

Perhaps the police department is stormed by deviants and Simon is freed.

Due to his mental state, Simon feels like he can't just leave you.

Markus sees Simon's hesitant and asks him what's wrong.

"There's this woman I met while here... I can't just leave her be."

"It's dangerous to take anyone back with us, you know that!"

"She's different, I swear! I... want to know more about her-"

With a lengthy discussion soon Markus approves of you being taken in.

Now the roles have switched.

Against your will you're essentially taken in as a hostage just like Simon was.

You're quickly accepted if you're a deviant, but not really if you're a human.

Despite this... Simon feels it's his turn to care for you.

He won't interrogate you, he'll try to treat you like he does the rest of the deviants.

He tries to make you more emotive but it's difficult.

Simon wants to change you like you did him.

He wants to love you even if he's hated for it.

He's much more caring than Daniel, another PL600 model.

He provides you with what you need and keeps you cuffed to run.

In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he just cuffed you to himself.

It's clear after his capture Simon has grown more unstable.

He tells you how much he loves you and how he forgives you for what you did before.

He tries to kiss you and show his twisted adoration for you, he wants you to so desperately react.

In reality you struggle to process, well, everything.

You don't know what emotions are appropriate, you don't know how to react...

All you know is the android you interrogated before now has you cuffed to him at all times, rambling about love that you doubt he feels.

That's one way Simon can express his adoration.

Then there's if androids are accepted into society.

You expect to live your own life and just be alone after you release Simon.

No... guess not.

Simon instead wants to be closer to you and wants your help in finding a way to start a new life.

You try to tell him no but he's persistent.

I feel Simon is definitely a yandere who wants to be caring as a PL600.

PL600's tend to be caretakers which would explain Simon's tendency to care and be loyal to others.

He dedicates himself to "fixing" his darling one way or another.

He isn't sure how to teach emotions but he tries.

He never leaves your side and often speaks to Markus and North about you.

Simon refers to you as his girlfriend and partner, always looking giddy while saying it.

He tries his best to show you he loves you, often attempting physical affection to see your reaction.

He doesn't understand why you're so apathetic but him forcing himself into your life certainly doesn't help.

Essentially by the height of his obsession Simon has swapped roles with you.

You become the hostage and he the captor.

Overall I feel Simon loves you the same but tries to teach you to have more emotions.

He really does want to help.

Simon isn't really possessive but he can be jealous.

He hates Gavin around you and often glares at him, even if androids are "accepted".

Simon would be the type of yandere to lock you away and care for you himself.

He doesn't care what he has to go through to reach your needs and change your apathy...

He'd give his girlfriend the world if he could.

But once he has you he'll never let you go out of his sight.

#yandere detroit become human #yandere dbh #yandere simon pl600 #yandere dbh simon

[xoxobluelock]

Shidou & Zlatan Ibrahimovic Similarities

I was looking into Shidou's Big Bang Drive and fell down the Zlatan Ibrahimovic rabbit hole. Turns out, Shidou and his favorite player share a number of similarities, including incredible bicycle kicks, play styles, backgrounds in Taekwondo, and ...abrasive personalities.

First, the Big Bang Drive.

Ibrahimovic is the first video result when you search "bicycle kick" for a reason. In a 2012 Sweden vs England friendly, Ibrahimovic pulled off what is widely considered a legendary bicycle kick goal—some have argued one of the best goals of all time—30 yards out. With the vid / gif and the manga panels below, I think you’ll see some similarities between Shidou’s Big Bang Drive here in Chapter 130 and Ibrahimovic's goal.

Below is a play-by-play, followed by background on Ibrahimovic and similarities he and Shidou share:

(I am not claiming the Big Bang Drive was based on Ibrahimovic's goal. I just think it's interesting. Also, you can find the "Egoist Bible" player interview in which Shidou states Ibrahimovic is his favorite player here, courtesy of 705point8 on Twitter.)

The goal starts with Sweden (Ibrahimovic's team) stealing the ball from England and passing long—like Sae did—to where only Ibrahimovic and two members of the opposing team are. Like how Shidou is going up against Reo and Aryu after moving on "reflex" toward the goal, knowing Sae would work his magic and get him the ball.

The goalie had come out from the goal, and heads the bounced pass away (like Gagamaru), but it isn't enough to get past Ibrahimovic. Or Shidou. 

Shidou pulls off an overhead bicycle kick goal bonkers enough to have even Sae show some surprise on his face. Look how far away Shidou is! Is it 30 yards like Ibrahimovic's? Can't say for sure, but it looks damn close. Man, I can't wait to see this match animated!

Sae's face 😂

I'm no football expert—I’m running on Ted Lasso, Blue Lock, and a dream here—but is it possible that Shidou's Big Bang Drive might be an homage to Shidou's favorite player and his famous thirty-yarder? I think so. Or it's entirely coincidental, you decide.

...

Background + Similarities

Here's the man in question, recently and younger.

(Content warning: Ibrahimovic, like Shidou, is sometimes crude and violent, and has sexualized aspects of the game. The explanation below is far milder than what you’ve already read in the manga, just want to mention it.)

(Unless otherwise noted, everything below came from Ibrahimovic's Wikipedia page.)

If you read Ibrahimovic's Wikipedia page, you can see why Shidou is a fan: 

One of the best strikers of all time? Three whole decades of playing football, a twenty year international career, still playing into his forties (though not always as striker now)? (We know how football is life for Shidou!) Brash and outspoken? Known for acrobatic goals? Making yellow and red cards fly like paper planes? Makes sense to me.

Notably, Ibrahimovic's been carded for the following:

Cursing—meh, pretty tame.

Literally slapping, elbowing, kicking, punching, and headbutting people—sometimes even his own teammates! Okay, now we’re on to something. 

Grabbing his junk to taunt jeerers. Sexualizing things for no damn reason, just like Shidou! 😅 Ibrahimovic’s done this at least twice, I believe. And fairly recently, 2016 and 2019.  

...

Perhaps the most interesting connection is Taekwondo. I had assumed Shidou had some degree of experience in Taekwondo after seeing his crazy form / flexibility in Chapter 88 and googling “axe kick." But what do you know? Ibrahimovic attended Taekwondo classes as a child and received an honorary black belt. Several articles either imply (The Athletic) or state (The Sun; Goal) that Ibrahimovic's black belt is not just an honor bestowed for highlighting Taewkondo, but also a real distinction he earned at only 17.

I'm saying: both Ibrahimovic and Shidou have some Taekwondo experience, starting in their youth.

(Ch. 102)

Ibrahimovic says: #Taekboll

See him in action on his Insta:

...

Reading further on his Wikipedia, Ibrahimovic definitely has the Blue Lock ego down. Here are some fun lil quotes:

“‘You bought a Ferrari, but you drive it like a Fiat.’ — Ibrahimović disparages Guardiola on how he was used at Barcelona.”

“He announced his arrival in idiosyncratic style by taking out a signed full-page advertisement in the Los Angeles Times that simply said, ‘Dear Los Angeles, you're welcome.’” (A WHOLE DAMN PAGE IN THE LAT—I can’t 😂)

“Post match, Ibrahimović stated he was ‘happy for Toronto because they'll be remembered as my 500th victim.’” (Such a dick, I love it.)

“‘Swedish style? No. Yugoslavian style? Of course not. It has to be Zlatan-style.’ — Downplaying the influence of his background, Ibrahimović describes his unique playing style.” (Okay, King JJ.)

“One thing is for sure, a World Cup without me is nothing to watch." (I dunno, bro, I enjoyed the last one.... 😂)

Here’s one that highlights another connection to Shidou / freedom in football: “I was sacrificed and no longer had the freedom on the pitch I need to succeed.” He literally said this about playing with LIONEL MESSI. But, ya know, fair point. Shidou and Rin had so much fun sharing the spotlight (and the ball). (Important to note that Ibra has also expressed admiration and respect for Messi.)

“…Ibrahimović announced he was to leave the LA Galaxy through his Twitter account, telling Galaxy fans ‘[Y]ou wanted Zlatan, I gave you Zlatan. You are welcome. The story continues...Now go back to watch baseball.’” (Baseball! The shade! 😂)

The actual tweet with what, I'm assuming, is a fan-edit he 'borrowed':

Not from Wiki: As recently as a 2021 interview, Ibrahimovic stated, "Deep down, I think I'm the best player in the world."

...

Alright, this got more involved than I intended. Going to wrap it up with some brief notes on play style and some fun facts.

Straight from Ibrahimovic's Wikipedia page: “Known for his strong mentality and leadership, as well as his extroverted and highly competitive personality, despite his success, he has been criticised in the media for his arrogance, aggression and rebellious character, as well as his lack of discipline on the pitch, in particular in his early career, which has led him to involved in confrontations with other players, some of his managers and even reporters.” Can definitely see why Shidou might feel some kinship with Ibrahimovic!

Wiki also notes ESPN described Ibrahimovic as "good in the air, quick, tall, strong and agile, he plays well with his back to goal and boasts some of the best finishing, vision, passing and ball control around.” Mr. Demon Wings / "Flying Killing Machine" Shidou is definitely good in the air (Ch 131). Ibrahimovic has Shidou by five inches in height, but Shidou is over six feet and is shown to be acrobatic. Shidou also has incredible game vision. Look at Mr. "My Weapon is 'Extreme Spatial Awareness!!" go (Ch 130)! And he plays well with his back to goal. "As long as I'm inside the penalty area, even with my back to it... I can find the goalmouth without even seeing it!!"

...

Lastly, Ibrahimovic is active and popular on social media—apparently the most followed Swede on Insta with over 55 million followers. He often signs posts with a 🦁. He doesn’t drink alcohol. He had a rough childhood. He's married and has two kids. Ibrahimovic also has a habit of referring to himself in the third person.

Phew. Okay. I got shit to do. You can tell where I got tired. I might revisit this later, especially if I come across anything else relevant to Shidou / Blue Lock. But since you made it this far, I'm begging you to read this article in The Athletic. It is so damn funny and interesting and weird, complete with talkshow appearances and everything—and it really highlights things like his sense of humor and ability to laugh at himself (on his own terms, at least). And makes you wonder just how much of his ego is a facade.

There’s obviously a lot more about Ibrahimovic and his decades long career. Like how he played in Sweden’s U-18 Team, multiple leagues, and World Cups; has scored a “perfect hat-trick,” etc., etc.. But I tried to give a brief overview of what seemed most relevant to Blue Lock and my favorite character.

Hope you found it interesting / helpful, too! Might get around to posting some of the notes I've taken on Shidou and Sae for a fic now that I'm finally free from Tumblr purgatory and can actually be seen in the tags.

Update: As of June 4, 2023, Ibra has officially retired. At age 41, after over 30 years in the sport. AC Milan sent him off in style, and he trended at #1 worldwide on Twitter for hours after the announcement. He's still very active on his socials and seems to be enjoying retirement, playing pickle ball and attending Coldplay concerts!

#blue lock #shidou ryusei #zlatan ibrahimovic #itoshi sae #bllk #blue lock meta #blue lock manga #ryusae #ryusei shidou #sae itoshi #blue lock u20 arc #u20 arc #shidou meta #shidou ryusei meta #zlatan #aryu jyubei #mikage reo #gagamaru gin #TFEC #xoxobluelocknotes #ibrahimovic #shidou #bllk ch 130 #bllk ch 102 #bllk ch 131 #BlueLockMangaSpoilers #sae x shidou #blue lock manga spoilers

[matthewtkachuk]

nothing kills you slower than letting someone go - matthew tkachuk

Your first Christmas in Calgary without Matthew proves to be more dramatic than you’d imagined

pairing: matthew tkachuk x reader

warnings: angst angst angst, a shitty breakup, shitting on the calgary transit system and also the weather, tumblr user matthewtkachuk finally taking on the matthew tkachuk florida trade

word count: 3.1k

happy (early) birthday c, i love you so so so so sos ososos os much you deserve the absolute fucking world and i would kill anyone for you, all you have to do is ask. big thank u to @antoineroussel as always for proofreading, even if i decline her changes 50% of the time.

@ryngrvs bingo spaces used: exes to lovers, "you're killing me", argument scene, unresolved angst, forced proximity

“You’re killing me.”

It’s spoken by the head of curls poking out from beneath the cream duvet that may or may not be attached to your boyfriend. He’s enjoying the perks of a rare day off, while you’re stumbling around the bright room getting ready for work at the ass crack of dawn. 

“I’m sorry, Matty, I’ll turn the light off as soon as I finish getting dressed.” 

“Or you could stop getting dressed and come back to bed,” is his muffled reply. He stretches with a loud groan, peeking out at you from beneath the covers for a moment before dramatically squeezing his eyes shut and covering his head once more. 

“Would that I could, baby. Would that I could,” you tell him, tossing on a shirt from your large walk-in closet and finally, mercifully, turning off the light. It’s a short walk back over to the bed where you unceremoniously yank the covers away in order to give him a short but sweet kiss goodbye. “Love you, see you later.” 

His responding ‘I love you’ sounds more like a promise than a parroting of your own words back at you. 

Life in Calgary is good, perfect even one might say. Just you, Matty, a cute apartment with a good view—what more could a girl ask for? Except for maybe a milder winter and a physical confirmation and representation of the future you think you’re heading toward. 

Six months later, at his brother’s engagement party, Matt is traded to the opposite side of the continent  and you’re moving into the spare bedroom of your friend’s apartment. Your view? The brick of the building next door and the shambles of a life you’d no longer get to lead. 

-

Calgary’s always been cold, but it’s even colder without Matthew to warm your bed or your apartment or your life. Apparently the mid-December cold snap has temperatures dropping below that of even the North and South Poles. Once upon a time that would mean extended mornings together in bed, warm and cozy under covers until you would successfully guilt trip him into giving you a ride to work. 

These days you have to wake up a full hour earlier than you used to in order to take the notoriously unreliable Calgary transit system, shivering in the uncovered bus shelter while you wait and wait and wait for a bus that may never come, and cursing your manager for being the ultimate boomer, afraid of letting his staff work from home.

It’s one of those days when your bus is a full half an hour late and the windchill could best be described as ‘fucking cold’ when you get an unexpected text message. 

Busy?

It’s Annika, Elias’s newly minted fiance if instagram is to be believed, and one of the girls you had been closest to when you’d existed within the stratosphere that was the Calgary Flames. It’s unexpected but not unwelcome or unrealistic, seeing as she’s checked on you here and there in the months since your split.

No, but yes and also kind of in a pickle...

Ten minutes later, there’s still no sign of your bus, but a different mode of transportation presents itself in your old friend behind the wheel of an SUV.

Your shoulders are shivering and your teeth are chattering and you’re 99% sure your lips are blue when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the window reflection before climbing in.

“You’re an absolute lifesaver Ann,” you gush the moment you’re situated in the passenger seat, pleasantly surprised when the seat warmer is already warm and toasty beneath your ass.

“What are friends for, right?” she gleefully replies, signaling before turning back onto the icy street. 

Christmas music plays lightly through the car radio, filling the silences between the two of you catching up on the past few months. 

It’s pleasant and warm—so, so incredibly warm thank God—which should have been an indication that a bomb was about to be thrown your way. 

“Come to our Christmas party,” Annika blurts out with a complete and uncharacteristic lack of poise. You’re ready to tell her all about the multitude of ways that’s a bad idea when she continues, “Just listen...”

It takes a lot to convince you that a Christmas Party being hosted at the house she owned with Elias is how you want to spend your valuable free time. Partially it’s the promise of free booze, partially it’s the way your chest aches when you think of all the friends you lost when your relationship went to shit, but mostly it’s the assurance that it’s neither the Official nor Unofficial Flames Christmas party and it won’t be just players and their significant others present. 

That, and the fact that Annika went out of her way to pick you up in the freezing cold at seven thirty in the morning and give you a ride when Calgary Transit had let you down so spectacularly. 

You let her talk and don’t give her an answer until she’s dropping you off in front of work.

“So, will you come?”

“Of course I’ll come, thanks for the ride, Ann.”

The wide smile on her face should make your frozen heart melt a little, but you’re too busy focusing on the dread you feel deep in your stomach.

-

You knew it was going to be a bad day when even your gimmicky weather app told you it was so cold you were better off staying at home.

But you’ve spent enough time sitting at home, staring at your four walls and wishing for a better outcome. Besides, you’re not going to let anyone down, especially not after knowing the pain of the ultimate let down that was Matthew Tkachuk and everything he’d promised you and then failed to deliver. 

The only one you’re impressing is yourself these days, which is your justification for the thirty minute long shower where you let a hair mask soak into your ends and exfoliate your entire body despite being under no pretenses that anyone but you would benefit from it.

And okay maybe the thought of ending up in the background of someone’s Insta story is motivation enough for you to spend that extra bit of time on your hair and makeup, and to choose the jeans that make your ass look great and the shirt that does the same for your tits. It’s a secret that will remain between you and Anastasia Beverly Hills. 

A loud cheer is sounded when you walk through the front door of the Lindholm home after a short Uber ride.

“You and Matthew broke up, not us,” Elias tells you after pulling you in for a big bear hug. It takes everything you have in you to not give into the wobbling of your lower lip at his words. Maybe it wasn’t fair to avoid this world and everything that came with it for fear that it would prevent your broken heart from mending itself piece by piece. These were good people who you cared for and who cared for you in return, people who only had your best interests at heart. 

“I promise I’ll quit hiding in Chrissy’s apartment,” you reply quietly before letting Annika lead you away to introduce you to some of the new faces around the room. 

Ashley Kadri is every bit as glamorous and kind as your friend talked her up to be, and her husband is much of the same, letting you gush about how amazing his cup run with the Avs had been last season. 

You can take the girl out of the hockey relationship, but you can’t take the hockey out of the girl.

It’s all going well and reminding you of how much you used to love being a part of this world when it predictably goes to hell again.

Securing another drink means walking past the front door to head towards the kitchen, and you can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing that it’s here, away from prying eyes, that you run into the last person you expected to see in Calgary ever again outside of a game situation. 

“What are you doing here?” Matthew asks, stunned by the mere presence of you in his former teammate but forever friend’s home. 

“What am I doing here? Me? What the fuck are you doing here?” you snap back angrily, but even you’re not sure exactly what you mean by ‘here’. Canada? Calgary? Lindy’s entryway? Your fragile, shattered heart?

Torn between bursting into tears and strangling the man in front of you, you’re saved from the decision by Elias appearing out of nowhere with a robust “Chucky!”

Annika’s guilty face behind her fiance tells you Matthew’s arrival is not unwelcome nor unexpected.

“I need a drink,” you whisper quietly, ignoring Annika’s attempts to gain your attention. 

Much like he hadn’t when he left, you don’t spare Matthew a second glance as you leave.

You’re not sure if it’s a cruel twist of fate, or the result of your not-so-kind-hearted friends’ meddling that has you sitting next to Matthew at dinner. He spends most of it trying to get your attention, but you focus on Jacob and talking his and his girlfriend’s ears off about her pregnancy. 

At some point between stuffing your face with mashed potatoes and none-too-gracefully reaching over Matthew to grab seconds to avoid having to engage in conversation with him, his leg brushes yours. The sensation has your skin feeling like it’s on fire through your jeans, and you react accordingly, flinching away like you’ve been burned. 

Later, you’re sat in a circle with a group of Annika’s friends, listening to them drone on and on about some great opportunity that, for some reason you can’t quite put your finger on, has you imagining the shape of a triangle. 

Realizing you’re going to need more alcohol to get through the conversation, you excuse yourself and run right into the very person you’ve been avoiding all night. 

If you were stronger, less heartbroken still, you would look him right in his eyes and dismiss him without much more than a callous, offhanded comment of his name. You’re not, and you are, and so you just stare up at him, feeling as though all of the oxygen in the room has been sucked out. 

He manages to say your name though, and the sound of it is so bittersweet on his tongue. Equal parts sounding like it belongs there, and like it should never be spoken by him again. 

“Can we get out of here? Talk?”

Annika’s friends are staring with far too much interest, not even pretending like they’re not eavesdropping and so you storm away to a much quieter spot down the hallway.

Spinning on him, you say, “I didn’t drive, and I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Please? I really want to clear the air, and I can’t do it with all of my former teammates breathing down my neck.” He seems sincere enough, even if the very sight of him has your body breaking out into a nervous sweat, and you’re pretty sure you feel the beginning of an allergic hives reaction breaking out along your arms.

“You should have thought of that before you ambushed me at their party.”

“I didn’t know you were going to be here, I promise. Lindy invited me, and I couldn’t just turn him down.” 

You know the feeling well, not wanting to let Annika down was seventy five percent of the reason you were here tonight, too. Something about the way that makes you feel has you agreeing, “Fine.”

“If you really want, we can take separate Ubers,” he offers, and you realize the notion is ridiculous, but you still consider it for half a second before you sigh so deeply you feel it in your bones before rattling off your new address. He looks shocked, and you realize when he opens the app on his phone, the old address is still saved as Home.

“You didn’t think I could afford the condo after you left did you? I can't even afford to live by myself, Matthew,” you snap at him.

“I didn’t realize—“

“Yeah there’s a lot you didn’t realize, Matthew.”

The full name moniker that slips from your mouth slices right through his bravado as he viscerally winces. 

Your ride comes quickly, but the actual ride itself seems to take an entire hour as the blue Toyota Camry with the Flames license plate weaves in and out of traffic. It makes you wonder if the car really belongs to Carl, your Uber driver, as he casually has a conversation with Matthew without any fuss.

Normally, you go out of your way to make others feel appreciated, but you can’t even find it within yourself to thank Carl when he pulls up at your apartment, simply jumping out from the car before it’s even fully parked.

Matthew takes in his surroundings carefully, critically, as he looks at discarded needles on the ground in front of you and the gang sign graffiti a few buildings down from yours. It makes you angry—no, makes you furious—as you watch him judge your surroundings. As if he had any reason to care about where you rested your head at night anymore.

You still don’t say anything though. Just let that anger stew and simmer, bubbling below the surface as you buzz into the lobby and then up the elevator. 

“You wanted to talk? Talk.” You cross your arms and glare at him, impatiently and involuntarily tapping your foot on the cheap laminate flooring.

He looks lost, panicked, like he didn’t think he would even make it this far. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t know what to say?” You’re in disbelief, truly. He shows up in your city, at a party you’re at, and demands to speak with you privately at your apartment and he can’t think of a single thing to fucking say to you? “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I didn’t think it would be like this,” he says, elaborating further when your look of disbelief only grows. “Seeing you again. I didn’t think it would be like this.”

“You made it like this! You left me behind like I was nothing, like we were nothing.”

He winces as the truth leaves your lips. “I know, and I’ve regretted it ever since. From the moment the door shut behind me for the last time, I’ve regretted it.”

“Then why? Why did you do it? Why did you leave me?” The feeling brewing in your chest can’t be pinned down to just one emotion; it’s sadness and anger and hurt, but it’s something else too. Something you can’t put your finger on but it burns like cheap whiskey down your throat. 

“I couldn’t ask you to leave Calgary, everything you have is here.”

That’s it? That’s his excuse? Deciding for the both of you what was important to you, what you would want? 

“I fucking hate Calgary! It’s so fucking cold and it snows all the time and you’re not there anymore!” 

He’s on you in a second, cold hands curved around your jaw and hot mouth on yours. Your back hits the wall, and you think a picture frame falls, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Gripping and pulling him closer, your hands can’t settle on a place, roaming and feeling, re-committing every curve, every sharp edge of his body to memory.

It’s a mess of teeth and tongue, whining and panting and a thrumming need until his mouth breaks free of yours, trailing down your neck.

You come back into yourself then, back into the harsh memory of his packed bags and his back as he walked away from you and everything you had to offer. “Stop…Stop!” You push him off of you. There’s barely any effort put into it on your part, but he flies off of you like you had herculean strength. 

One of his hands is tangled in the hair atop his head, while the fingers of the other are pressed to his lips as if in disbelief. 

“I’m sorry, I-”

“What? It was a mistake? An accident? I don’t want to fucking hear it! What is wrong with you?” It takes everything in your power to keep the tears from falling, though you’re sure your watery gaze betrays you. Your arms are wrapped around you, almost as if you could physically hold your broken pieces together. 

“I’m just sorry,” he replies, resigned in a way you can’t ever quite remember him being. “I’m just sorry and I miss you so fucking much.”

You laugh then, loud and cruel and sharp. “Apology not accepted.”

He says your name, quiet and wounded, almost like a prayer, a plea.

Swallowing the lump in your throat you reply, “You didn’t even ask me to come with you.”

“Would you have?”

“Yes.”

“Would you come with me now?”

“Absolutely not.”

He looks shocked then. Like it’s inconceivable that you’re not willing to drop everything for him, five months after he left you behind without so much as a second glance. Like he thought he could just show up in Calgary, at Elias’ party, like nothing was wrong and you would follow him back like a lost puppy. 

The day after your breakup? Absolutely. The week after? Maybe. But you had five months to learn to be okay without the man standing in front of you, and no shitty apology or burning kiss was going to change that. 

“Calgary may be cold and miserable, but it’s predictable. I know exactly what to expect—fucking cold from October to May, and a little less cold for the rest of the year. You? I have no idea what you’ll do next. And that used to excite me, used to make me think you were just passionate. But now I don’t trust you, and I don’t think I ever could.”

“I’m sorry, I—”

“I think you should go.” When he doesn’t even blink, your mouth twists into a horrible grimace as you lose control of yourself and the floodgates holding back your tears burst. “Fucking leave! You’re killing me here, Matty.”

You’ll never know if it was the tears or the nickname you let slip past your lips, but he leaves. And you’re not sure you’ve made the right choice, but he made the wrong one first and you’ll never forget that.

#nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk fanfic #matthew tkachuk fanfiction #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk imagines #matthew tkachuk x reader #shelb writes

[woodchipp]

"her actions have shown [how much she cares]" not being backed up by any of her actions throughout the game aside, this summary gets even funnier if you take a closer look at what kicks off the plot of One Day Left - Sunny, Kel and Hero confronting Aubrey at her house.

I have Things to say about that scene, both in terms of how it relates to Aubrey and to the game's writing in general.

Right off the bat, the game uses a milder version of "hell" right before inexplicably making Aubrey use the word itself. Something like

AUBREY: ...! AUBREY: Wh-What are you guys doing here?! AUBREY: GET THE HELL OUT OF MY ROOM!!

would've worked just as fine, in my opinion.

This game had three editors, by the way.

When pressed, the first thing Aubrey says about the incident at the lake is a straight-up lie in an attempt to diminish the severity of her wrongdoing. No, her watery eyes aren't going to convince me she's genuinely sorry.

1) Here it is again. Instead of owning up to her behavior at the very least, she continues trying to make the incident seem less severe than it actually was.

2) You "didn't mean to" push Basil into the lake even though he was obviously standing right at the edge of the pier? And you knew he was incapable of swimming? You're a fuckwad.

Accident or no accident, he was in active danger of dying. You chose to argue with Kel on the pier since that was more of a priority to you than trying to save your close friend.

And then she tries to reduce the severity of what she did for the third time! Sure, she does seem to apologize afterwards

but then immediately falls back on deflecting blame, which makes the apology come off as insincere.

Really, I would've preferred Aubrey being upfront about being a prick. Her incessant attempts to blame everyone and everything but herself for her choices don't make her complex because the game speedruns her redemption and we don't get to see her growth, which is also why said attempts become very grating after a certain point.

Aubrey isn't the only character I take issue with here, though.

1) Hero. My dude. Your own brother accused Aubrey of nearly killing another friend of yours. Aubrey confirmed said accusation. And you still dismiss it as a harmless squabble like the ones they had in their childhood days??

Either he's also stuck in his childhood mentally or he's just - and I'm not going to mince words here - a moron.

2) I love that Hero's reaction implies he still doesn't seem to take Kel seriously. You'd think he'd try to be more mindful of his little brother following that furious outburst, but nope. He still seems to view Kel as a rash little child he has to rein in.

One could argue this is meant to show that the charscters are flawed, and in a better story, I'd actually be inclined to agree. I like the idea of Hero struggling to move on from his role as the group's "dad", and I'd have liked if the story forced him to understand he can't keep playing their dad with a situation much more complicated than a "typical Kel and Aubrey fight". Likewise, Hero's perception of Kel as an impulsive, bratty kid persisting to the present day and causing friction with Kel himself would've made for an interesting conflict.

Of course, this isn't a better story, so after Kel and Aubrey's reactions, Hero's shallow peacemaking is promptly (and conveniently) forgotten when he notices the last bunch of missing photos.

Peak writing, everyone!

This game took six years and $200,000, by the way. No, I won't stop mentioning that.

My sister in Christ you are literally wearing her fucking headband. You were also given some of her other clothes, it seems.

If Aubrey's problem was about having nothing to remember Mari by, it's null and void to me because she clearly does have more than just the photos. Not only that, but this also comes off as the game trying to use Aubrey's grief as an excuse for her treatment of Basil, which is disgusting for reasons I shouldn't need to explain.

(oh, and Sunny's just Standing There. he doesn't contribute anything to the conversation at all. he could've been removed from this scene altogether and nothing of value would be lost. the main character of all time, truly)

#omori #omori game #omori aubrey #omori kel #omori hero #omori sunny #omori basil

[moonmoonthecrabking]

so, sometimes i see people saying that victors like cecelia and woof from 8 or the morphlings from 6 or seeder from 11 just waited out their games and didn't kill anyone or only had one kill (i've been in the thg fandom on a variety of platforms i haven't mainly seen it here) and i personally have to disagree.

 "...no one in this arena was a victor by chance. except maybe peeta."

finnick says this in catching fire, and i would reckon that he knows how all the victors won their games. i'm not going to say from this that the victors were evil or whatever, because they were children trying to survive. sure, they killed people, but their situations were very nuanced moral conundrums and, also, they were children.

i think i dislike it because to act as though the "nicer" or "milder" victors didn't kill people seems to me to act as though good people don't do bad things to survive, that the games didn't corrupt people and hurt them. the games changed them, but they continued being themselves.

let's use cecelia as a case study. she fought in her games, she killed people, she survived. years later, she got married and had three children, the model of maternal love. her being a loving wife and mother, a woman whose children held on to her when she was reaped for the second time. that doesn't mean that, when push came to shove, she didn't kill anyone to stay alive. that she didn't do what we consider to be bad things when she was put in a horrible situation. her dying in the bloodbath in the 75th games doesn't mean that she was incapable of fighting to survive in her original games. in fact, it may suggest that she didn't run away from her first cornucopia, but fought in it.

my point is, i don't think that the victors who are more mild-mannered than katniss or died in the bloodbath of the 75th weren't fighters. they were teenagers forced to kill to survive. they did it. but that does not make them evil. but that lack of aggression doesn't mean they didn't fight in their games.

#thg #the hunger games #hunger games #thg meta #hunger games victors #does this make sense??? #also don't like it when people say the victors from 6 just waited out their games while experiencing morphling withdrawal #while that's possible it's probably something they got addicted to *because* of the games??? #anyway

[smittywing]

FicBit: Jason Todd/Tim Drake

Spending the weekend at Awesome Con, but first, the Good Stuff.

Previous parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Jason didn’t seek Tim out. But Red Robin signaled for backup two blocks from Jason’s favorite safehouse. (It was upstairs from a bakery and sometimes he fell asleep to the aroma of baking cinnamon rolls.) 

He arrived on scene and counted - well, shit, they were Ra’s guys -  two active, four down, and Red Robin whipping his bo staff back into one’s gut.  The assassin gasped and stumbled back but he didn’t go down. Jason pistol-whipped the other active one and he went down. Red Robin spun and smacked the first assassin across the jaw with his staff.

Belatedly, Jason realized Red Robin was fighting with his non-dominant left hand.  “You okay?” he called, dropping to one knee to start securing the unconscious assassins with zip ties.

“Dislocated elbow,” Tim grunted. “It fucking hurts.”

“Ow,” Jason agreed. “I’ve got a safehouse two blocks from here. You want to drop by and I’ll try to pop you back in place.”

“Yeah. As long as I don’t have to do any grappling.”

“Nah, as long as you can jump a fire escape or two?”

“I'm injured, not unconscious,” Tim said dryly and Jason grinned widely under his mask. 

He didn't exactly have to lead Tim to his safehouse - Tim clearly already knew where he was crashing. But he waited politely while Jason disabled his security measures and sat down at the kitchen table with a pained grunt. 

“You want a shot of anything before I do it?” Jason asked, taking off his helmet and setting it on the counter. Tim’s elbow was just out of position, almost normal except where it most definitely was not. 

“No, just get it over with.” Tim sounded resigned and cranky. 

“You sure?” Jason asked and snapped the joint into place without waiting for an answer. Tim screamed silently, an open mouth and a hissing exhale, and then reached up with his left hand and peeled away his domino. He looked exhausted, which was normal, and a little sad, which was not. At least not since Cannon Fodder had come on the scene. 

Jason opened the fridge and frowned at the contents. He only had three eggs and no bacon, but he could make a frittata with spinach and mushrooms, maybe. He also had three bottles of beer so he snagged two of them and turned to sit one in front of Tim. “Here,” he said. “You deserve this, at least.”

“Thanks.” Tim snapped the lid off with the edge of the brass knuckles built into his glove and stared into the bottle. 

“Is the old man up in your business again?” Jason asked quietly. He and Tim once had a long talk about their respective relationships with Ra’s al Ghul and then never spoke of the topic again. It was more Tim’s choice than Jason’s. Jason would just prefer not to talk. 

“He makes a bid now and then,” Tim finally says and chases the words with a long pull of beer. “Hey, this one is pretty good.”

“I told you, it grows on you,” Jason said. If he had picked a sweeter, milder brew than before, it was because variety was the spice of life, or some shit like that. 

“I like it,” Tim assured him. “So. Um. What was Dick on about last Sunday?”

“Oh, that.” Jason shrugged his jacket off and sat down in the kitchen chair next to Tim. “It's not a big deal.”

Tim raised an eyebrow, Alfred-style, and wrapped his mouth around the neck of the bottle. The color was returning to his lips, which had been pale when he was in pain, and Jason was having a real hard time not watching that. Not wanting that. 

Jason sighed through his teeth. “I was 15 when I died and 18 when I came back and I never really went through puberty. So it never occurred to me that maybe I could possibly like guys.”

“Oh.” Tim’s mouth popped off the bottle. “Oh. Do you think you might?”

Jason shrugged, a little more violently than he intended and tore his gaze away from Tim’s mouth. It didn't help a whole lot because then it landed on Tim’s fingers, which were worrying the edge of the label, and yeah, that was gonna be a problem, too. 

“Don't know,” he said. “Never did before.”

This might have been a lie. 

“Well, have you ever kissed another guy?” Tim asked. 

“I think that would clear things up if I had,” Jason grumbled. “Don't you?”

“Not if it was the wrong guy,” Tim answered easily. “Like, I already knew Bernard and I like him, as a person, but also there's this… I don't know. Chemistry, maybe? Kissing doesn't work with just anyone. If it did, you could just kiss me and you’d have your answer.”

“I couldn't kiss you,” Jason said, his mouth suddenly dry. “You're not even legal.”

“You're not even a legal entity,” Tim retorted and it should have sounded ridiculous but it made Jason grin instead. He sat up and rested his elbows on his knees. 

“Maybe not,” he admitted, “but that means I get to sleep more than an hour every three nights.”

“Yeah, thanks, I needed that reminder,” Tim said and then he leaned in and pressed a soft, closed-lipped kiss to Jason’s mouth. 

Tim was the right guy. 

Jason's body prickled and a hot flush raced up his center. He pressed in and kissed Tim back, a determined, awkward need driving him. Tim wasn't backing off so Jason parted his lips, took a breath, and kissed Tim like he should be kissed, hands coming up to cup Tim’s face, fingertips trailing through Tim’s hair. 

Tim opened his mouth under Jason’s and pressed closer. 

*Yes* Jason’s body sang. *Yes, this.*

He deepened the kiss and moved his hands down, pressing his palms against Tim’s narrow hips and then closing his fingers, hauling Tim tight against him. He bumped up against him and holy fuck, that was Tim’s cock. Tim was hard for him, too. 

With a gasp, Tim pulled away. Jason let go of him reluctantly and watched Tim press a hand to his mouth. 

“I have a boyfriend,” Tim said hollowly. 

“You kissed me,” Jason said, demonstrating his ability to say the exact wrong thing at any given moment. 

“I didn't - I didn't think it would be like that,” Tim said and it's the stupidest thing he's ever said in Jason’s hearing because *of course* it was like that. Jason hadn't had any expectations whatsoever but he realized now that there was no other way it could be. 

“Isn't it like that with Cannon Fodder?” Jason. challenged because. Exact. Wrong. Thing. 

“Yes,” Tim said. “No. It's different with every person. You should know that.”

“Should I?”  Jason wasn't so sure. He’d kissed some women. Had even slept with a few of them. And it was different, okay, but not different like this. 

“I guess you do now,” Tim temporized. He rubbed his lower lip. He still seemed a little shell-shocked. “Does that answer your question?”

“I guess it does,” Jason said evenly. Yeah, Jason liked kissing guys. And he fucking loved kissing Tim. 

“Okay, well. Now you know.”  

Tim stood there, mouth red, eyes so blue, and hair falling over his forehead. He was staring at Jason like he'd never seen him before. 

“I won't tell - “ Not Cannon Fodder, Jason scolded himself. Say his real name. Make him real.

“No, no. I - that's on me,” Tim said quickly. “I’ll tell him. “He’ll be okay with it if I explain the context. He will,” Tim repeated and Jason realized he was trying to convince himself, not Jason. 

“Yeah,” he said. “The context, yeah. It’ll be okay.”

It was not okay. Jason did not want Tim to go and apologize to Bernard. He did not want Bernard to forgive Tim. He wanted Tim to stay right there and step back into his arms, and kiss him again. 

“I have to go,” Tim said. “I - I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

Jason almost said no, just to guilt Replacement into staying there, with him, a little bit longer, but that was so totally off-brand for him. “Of course,” he scoffed. “Don't be stupid. Hey, I learned something new about myself. It's a hell of a lot more fun than returning from the dead. That's a trip.”

“Okay,” Tim said. “Let me know how you're doing, okay? Maybe we can all go out some night.”

Because that's what he wanted, to watch Bernard and Tim holding hands and being cute and being young and in love. Jason didn't watch Tim exit the fire escape window. But he knew by the chill wind that he was gone. 

#batbrats #jason todd #red hood #jason todd/tim drake #red hood/red robin #tim drake #jason todd's potty mouth #fic #red robin

[wlwomegaverse]

Give me some filthy omegaverse with alpha and omega who just need eachother. Something feral. Something passionate. Do as you will! -Soft

Ok, not sure if you mind that it's oc x reader (trying something to fight my writer's block).

So here's some feral yet loving female alpha x female omega reader

Contains: explicit sexual content, oral sex, hinted strength kink, mild size kink (+ mild belly bulge & even milder cumflation), risky sex, knotting, a hint of knot fucking, implied breeding kink, possessiveness, biting (+ mild blood), nest sex.

You've promised yourself that you'd never be that kind of omega.

Then you've met her and you're not known for keeping your promises, are you?

Not quite your fault if she's exactly your type (as if you had a type before, she doesn't need to know, does she?) More like her genetics's fault, all complaints should be directed towards her parents. She's not even the usual stupidly tall and broad and muscular alpha, just enough that you can easily curl on her arms and feel comfortable in that warm safety.

And her cock?

An addicting masterpiece.

And you haven't seen each other for a whole week, so really, it's not your fault that you're this needy when she gets home from her stupid work trip. Her bag is barely on the floor before she gets her arms full of you, you think it's already instinctual for her to lift you up and for you to wrap your legs around her hips. Her hands are rough and warm as she grabs handfuls of your butt, she kicks the door behind her and turns to press you against it.

It's not a surprise that she's already hard.

She growls lowly when you push her, but still moves back and allows you to be on your feet again. Shaky knees like the weak omega you turn when you're so turned on your pussy aches. You just happen to like how her cum tastes, you also happen to know that a good blowjob tends to make you end up stuck to her cock via an impressively large knot.

You need that fucking knot.

That fucking cum making you feel like your alpha has just bred you.

"I think your love language is choking on my cock," she watches as you work on her belt.

"Your love language is to fill me up like I'm just a cum dumpster. And fill every hole."

"You're too fucking hot, I hate you."

You can't really answer with her cock already in your mouth.

Your throat and your jaw always aches after a long blowjob session, or even a medium, anything that is for more than to get her hard. Your alpha is large, you never even asked for how many inches, a number would make it real. A number would probably make you doubt yourself even if you can take her fucking every hole.

Your alpha isn't ashamed to moan and grunt in pleasure, she doesn't hide her pleasure, she lets you know you're doing a good job. You don't even try to get more of her cock into your mouth, stopping before her cock head touches the back of your mouth. Your left hand curls around the rest of her cock, slowly stroking, your right hand plays with her balls. Her large, swollen balls full of cum you need inside of you.

She doesn't give you a chance to get a sip of cum, pulling back and pulling you up by grabbing your shoulder. There's even more lust in her eyes than in yours.

The couch is only a few steps from the door, she pushes you to bend over the back of it. You whine in response to the almost constant growl coming from her, the small flat already heavy with the arousal scent from the both of you. Hers just a little heavier – or you're just more sensitive to hers.

She only pushes the panties aside and bottoms out with one hard thrust.

"Fuck, yes," your voice often doesn't sound like your voice when you're impaled by her cock. You love that monster filling you up.

"So hot, so tight," she starts a fast, neck-breaking pace immediately, "my delicious baby girl," you'll be bruised, and you love it. "I'll make you a pretty mama."

You're waiting for it.

Being on edge and also needy, she comes within the first five minutes.

It doesn't matter that much. She pulls you, pressing your back against her chest. Her still clothed chest, not that you're naked. You need it too much to get naked, you can have proper calm sex later. You moan a little as she keeps an arm around your waist and lifts you, she likes to carry you around without pulling out.

She chuckles at the half-made nest before she climbs on the bed and you're hidden in that safety. Face first on the mattress, but in that safety nonetheless.

"Nesting, honey?"

"I missed you," you clench around her cock, knowing that she likes it, knowing it makes her barely get soft before she's ready to fuck you raw. "I need you to fill me up."

"Present, then, little omega."

You do it as much as you can with her on top of you. It's not hard, she moves with you, not the first time she does this. She moves along and settles at her position, mounting the presenting omega. Her cock is already fully hard again by the time you're as open and submissive as possible.

Her forearms presses against your ears and shoulders, caging you from the world, keeping you in position, making sure you know who you belong to.

Then she pounds you.

Fucks like a machine.

Her cock stretches you open, touches every spot, you don't need to look or touch to know her cock pushes a bulge on your lower belly every time her balls hit you. The bed groans and whines almost as much as you, constantly tested under the potency of your alpha's thrusting potency. She slows down for only a couple of seconds when she cums.

You come when you feel the shorter thrusts.

The knot about to pop thrusts.

"Alpha," it's almost your omega voice. She gasps against your back. "Alpha, knot me, please."

"Of course, can't let this pussy stay so tight for so long."

You almost cum with how rough her voice sounds.

Her thrusts are faster and faster until the knot keeps pressing against your wiping hole. Your back arches, pressing your body hard against her when she pushes the knot into you. The pain is delicious, tearing you apart in the most blissing way possible.

She humps against you and her knot inflates to its non-rut maximum size, moving as much as possible, lubed up with your slick and her loads of cum. You guess it's almost thrice the girth of her cock.

The world is a bright white thing when she bites the back of your neck. Hard enough to cut, you know, she likes tasting you. She says you taste divine when you're losing your mind under her, burning in euphoria with her cock filling you up. Her orgasm almost pushes you over that edge.

Deep inside you, generous, shot after shot, like the whole weeks of orgasms being dumped into you. You know the bulge won't be just her cock in you.

(You know she'll turn to the side, hold you as the knot takes it time to go down, and caress your belly and whisper about seeds taking roots.)

She kisses and bites your shoulder, every little movement of her hips sends shockwaves across your body and she giggles when you shake during another orgasm.

You hate the work trips, you love the aftermath of those.

#anon ask #prompt fill #oc x female reader #omegaverse #alpha/beta/omega au #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #omegaverse blog #alpha/beta/omega verse #a/b/o au #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o universe #requests are open