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#BUT I WANT TO SHOW EVERYBODY SO BAD SO I NEED TO BECOME NORMAL AND POST IT BUT I'M SHY

greatooglymooglyyy · 29 days

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If We Were Vampires (C.S.)

summary: chris learns to look past his fear of growing up for a future with the girl of his dreams

contains: angst, lots of emotions, chris pov, 3rd person, a bit of fluff, some suggestive content, cussing, 1.5k words

“So what, Chris? You expect me to just sit around waiting for you to man up?”

“I never said you had to. If you feel like you wanna go, then go.”

Chris replays the moment over and over again as he lies in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. It’s been a week, and he still can’t figure out what went so wrong. He doesn’t even know how it started. But then again, he doesn’t know how any of this started.

Everybody knows what he thinks about relationships. Or more accurately how much he never thinks about them. There were just a million other things he found more interesting than chasing after some fairytale of finding the one.

But then he met her. She’d come out of nowhere, like a siren in her flowy white dress, and he’d been stuck in her orbit ever since.

He tries to call her again, but the phone goes straight to voicemail. If it wasn’t for his texts going through, he’d be sure he was blocked. Frustration floods over him and he goes to make another call before realizing she is the one he’d normally call when he felt like this.

“God, I feel so stupid.” He says, sniffling and burying his face in her neck.

“It's not stupid. You’re allowed to be sad.” She replies, her voice soothing as she runs her fingers through his hair.

“Over the fucking ninja turtles?” He asks, laughing a bit at himself at how dramatic he feels.

“Over your childhood coming to an end.” She supplies, pulling away so she can look him in the eyes. “You’re allowed to be scared of what comes next.”

He lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding as his eyes bounce between her kind warm ones. Somehow this girl he never went looking for has become one of the only people who can talk him off the edge.

He rests his head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat for a while before he speaks again.

“Come with me to what’s next," he requests quietly, a prickle of fear rising when he realizes how much he means it.

She's silent for a beat before she holds him tighter. “If you let me,” she whispers, the slightest tinge of sadness coating her words.

The only thing in his head now is her face. Her face when she lay next to him, wiping away at his tears. Her face when he’d agree to watch one of her lame shows just to see her smile. Her face before she stormed out of his house, her hand swiping over her eyes to fight back any tears. It makes him sick to think of her like that. But it makes him even sicker to know it was his fault.

He wants to go to his brothers’ room for advice but he knows what they will say and he needs to figure this out for himself. Opening up his notes app, he begins a list of pros and cons, making the title her name and typing until his fingers ache. He stares at the list, his vision going blurry with emotion. One side is so much longer, it’s almost comical and he chokes out a laugh that turns into a sob.

There’s only one thing that haunts both sides of his list and it makes his chest ache. ‘one day, I’ll lose her.’

It’s the truth no matter which way he spins it. They might get months. They might get forty years. But one day one of them will be left behind.

Chris closes his eyes, resolve taking hold of him suddenly. He might lose her eventually. But it doesn’t have to be today.

He picks his phone up to send her a voice memo, hoping against hope that she’ll listen and understand. “Hey…I tried calling but…um…I guess you don’t want to talk to me yet. Which I get.” He sighs, annoyed at himself for how bad he’s rambling.

“Listen, I’ve been an idiot. All that bullshit about labels and dating, I didn’t mean any of it. I was just scared. But I’m way more scared of letting you walk away from me. I’m ready to grow up… or at least I’m ready to try.” He pulls his finger up, letting the memo send as he cringes at his stupid way with words.

Shaking his head and letting go of whatever morsel of ego he has left, he records another message. “Anyway, if you think you can give us another shot, please come tonight. We’re still having our craft night. It will be fun. I know Nick wants to see you… and I.. I need to see you too. Let me know.”

Hours later, he’s leaning against the kitchen counter staring at the nonexistent replies in their thread when Matt walks over.

“You alright, man?” He asks, a hint of concern in his tone. He takes a spot next to his brother, peering over to see what has his attention. Matt sighs when he sees her name and places a hand on Chris’ shoulder. “You gotta stop torturing yourself.”

Chris looks up at his brother, trying and failing to hide the shine in his eyes. “I really fucked this up, didn’t I?”

Matt can’t quite find the words for a moment, stunned at the hurt on his brother's face. He composes himself quickly, biting his lip and shaking his head. “It’s going to be okay. She’ll come or she won’t. And then we’ll know.”

As their friends start to pile in and crowd around the table, Chris forces himself to stay in the moment. After his third time of running to the door at a knock and it not being her, he stays glued to his chair, trying to focus on his diamond painting.

He tries feebly to be a good host, making small talk and mild quips about Madi’s technique, but he’d like nothing more than to head downstairs and rot in his room.

Nick catches Matt’s eye, the two exchanging a brief “what the fuck do we do” glance before they head over to him. Nick leans over his shoulder, commenting on how hard of a pattern Chris chose but he just gives a disinterested nod in return.

Determined to make him laugh, Nick starts to go big, starting down rants that he knows Chris will love. He considers it a personal win when he hears Chris’ trademark laugh and places his hands on his brother's shoulders.

Chris looks up at his brothers, knowing despite their efforts to be sly exactly what they are doing, and gives them a small weak smile. He places his phone face down and gives his friends his full attention. There will be plenty of other nights to miss her.

“Must be the pizzas,” Nick mutters when he hears a faint knock on the door. He jogs down and swings the door open, stopping in his tracks when he sees her. A smile of relief breaks across his face and he pulls her into a tight hug, whispering a soft “thank god.”

They go up the stairs together, anxiousness taking hold of her when she spots him across the room. “Hi everyone.” She says quietly, the chatter pausing for a second as they look up at her.

They call out greetings but she doesn’t hear a word because Chris meets her eye, blinking slowly as if he’s convincing himself she’s really there. She wants to apologize. For being late, for ignoring his calls. But there are so many people here so she waits.

He wants to go to her and sweep her up in his arms. He wants to kiss her until they run out of air, make her understand exactly how much he wants this. But there are so many people here so he waits.

But it’s okay. For the first time, he’s confident that they’ve got time. For the first time, he’s relieved with how much time left there is to give her.

Tonight he’ll tell her for the first time how much he loves her. Tonight she’ll tell him back in a thousand different ways, her nails leaving small trails down his back as his skin meets hers again and again. And tonight he’ll watch her chest rise and fall until he can make himself believe she’s real.

But for now, he just breathes out a ragged breath and holds out his arms for her. So she goes to him, settling into his lap and starting a painting of her own. And even if he can’t make this last forever, he can have it now. And maybe it will even be enough.

🏷️: @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @mrsmiagreer @asturniolos

@teapartyprincess4two @whicked-hazlatwhore @sukiipjs @fratbrochrisgf @sturniolosmind @imfromthediningtable @rootbeerworshiper @st4rswrld @thvvluvr @sturnssmuts @littlenerdybee @sturniolossss @iloveneilperry @eclipzw @chrissloverrrrrrr16 @sstvrnioloo

@clemlament @maryx2xx @fwskullz @luv4kozume

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orchidyoonkook · 1 year

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Under The Willow Tree | MYG

Title: Under The Willow Tree

Pairing: Bad Boy!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (T) | One Shot, Small Town AU, S2F2L, Implied Age Gap, Slow Burn, Angst, Touch of Fluff, Darker Subject Matter, First Kiss, Silce of Life

Summary: The town outcast shows up in the one place you find solace from it’s residents. The people you force yourself to fit in with, even though you never want to be anything like them. Will he ruin your only place of salvation, or become the most unlikely friend?

Warnings: PG16, some not necessarily positive non-specific religious discussions, people using religion in a negative may, plot twisty, cursing, kissing, semi-apparent abandonment issues, discussions of dead parents and guardians, mentions of alcoholism in a parent, mentions of illness in a parent, yoongi has tattoos and a motorcycle, motorcycle lessons, longing, mishandled emotions, catharsis.

Word Count: 7401

Release Date: April 10, 2023, 4:05PM

A/N 1: This happened due to a writing prompts post I shared sometime in late march. I’m quite proud of it considering I hadn’t planned anything so the entire story was written as I was writing. Very different than my normal writing process.

A/N 2: Thank you endlessly to @borahae-k, @katykatmeow, @here4btsfics and @phthartic-fox for beta’ing this. I love you all for your help, support and kindness.

It happened under a willow tree. A weeping willow.

Your favourite willow, to be specific. Even though there’s just the one.

It’s by the pond deep in the woods behind your house, where you watch ducks swim through the long, wispy branches that just reach its shore. Where you sit at the base, waiting for the sun to set the sky ablaze with colour as it falls into the horizon for another good night's sleep.

The one under which you had your first kiss.

You’d been waiting. Wanting it to be special, with the right person.

But a brief brush of soft, pink lips with the last person you ever expected had you wanting more, more, more.

It’d been a few months since he started coming to the willow. You’d assumed for the same reason you did.

To get away. From anyone and everything.

There aren’t many places in your hometown that allow for privacy, and you imagined he needed it more than anyone. Somewhere far from the residents' judgmental stares that were always nothing less than smothering.

Hailing from a very small, very rural, religious town where everybody’s known everyone for generations, your community is one where you follow in the footsteps of your parents and grandparents before them.

Where your life is already decided for you at birth, whether you know it or not.

Copy. Paste.

Copy.

Paste.

You’re born there; either at home with a midwife or in the one floor hospital down the main road. Raised there; a hand-me-down wearing, bike riding, creek-playing child.

You go to school there; stuck inside the same four walls from the ages of 4 to 18. Get your driver's licence there; from the sheriff after a road test that a 9 year old could pass.

You graduate there; from the same high school your friends, parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents went to. Get a job; in town or on a farm, the only two options there are.

And marry there; before 25, lest you become a spinster, subject to the gossip vultures also known as your neighbours. Then have some kids before growing old and dying, your permanent resting place dug in the same graveyard as everyone else that came before you.

Copy.

Paste.

It’s a suffocating fate that petrified you to your core. And you’ve known you didn’t want it for as long as you can remember.

You never liked their rules. Didn’t want to become one of them, to do as they do, live the way they live.

You’d skillfully escaped making any true friends as you grew older, but kept the people you could tolerate close enough to not be bored on weekends. They’re all temporary placeholders in your life anyway, people who sound like robots stuck in the same settings. People who would hold you back.

What’s worst of all is that you don’t share the religion they claim to be so hallowed and wonderful. The one that’s unwittingly forced them all into this life of monotonous repetition.

You dream of more. Of life outside this dreaded purgatory.

Of leaving.

But no one ever leaves. They’re stuck here, in this downwards spiral of life you’re so desperately trying to dig yourself out of. It makes you feel like a fraud, constantly pretending to be one of them. Always wearing a mask just to make it to the next day alive, unharmed by them and their values.

It makes you feel like there’s always a pair of eyes watching, waiting for you to mess up and reveal your blasphemous self.

You’re terrified they’ll discover the truth. Terrified of the ostracisation that will come the second they know you aren’t one of them.

You’ve seen it in real time. What they do to people who don’t conform.

Seen how they treat him.

Two years older. Bleach blond hair and a sleeve full of tattoos. A leather jacket he wears like armour with all black clothes to match. And last, but certainly not least, a motorcycle.

You daydreamed about that bike. Taking it and riding far, far away.

The busybodied people of your town never had a kind word to be said about him. Instead, choosing to call him any and every horrible name under the sun.

Beast, bastard, demon, monster, criminal.

Unable to understand him, understand anyone different.

They herd their children away from him in the streets; parting like the Red Sea when he walks by.

As if he were acid.

As if he was evil itself, and not just a young man.

You’ve never even heard him speak because no one dares to talk to him, worried any contact could turn them, seduce them into whatever his sick ways were.

And you’re ashamed to admit you’re one of them…sort of.

You aren’t worried about speaking to him, you’re worried about what being seen speaking with him will do to you.

You’re someone whose only salvation from complete and total social isolation relies on fitting in.

And even if it kills you to pretend, you only need to do it for a little while longer.

You just had to make it to college. You’d be the first one in decades to go. Their mindset of ‘you have everything you need here so why bother leaving’ having not once in your life resonated.

You can deal with them and all of their beliefs about what you should do with your life for the short hours of school and occasional shifts at the diner, so long as you can escape to your willow tree, you’ll be okay.

The weeping willow in the middle of the forest behind your house is the only one in the area. You never understood why that is, but it’s your oasis away from everything you hate.

The tips of its branches sway rhythmically in the wind, and moss creeps up its trunk. It’s surrounded by dense, plush grass for you to sit on, and after all the years of sitting in the same spot, a little groove in the shape of your body has formed at its base.

Its canopy protects you from the outside world, creating a space where you don't have to hide. Where you can proudly be yourself without fear. Where you spend as much of your time as you possibly can to keep your sanity intact.

No one bothers you here.

Your mum died years ago from an illness they never diagnosed, her plot in the town’s graveyard long since filled.

And your dad never notices you gone, too drunk in your house up on the hill to care.

So as long as there’s a constant supply of food on the counter and beer in the fridge, you’re free to do as you please.

Under the willow you do your homework and sketch. You take pictures and eat breakfasts and lunches and dinners. You listen to music and dance under the safety of its shade.

Under the willow you read great adventure novels, and dream you’re the protagonists whisked away on grand adventures. Anywhere but here.

Under the willow is your home away from home. Next to the pond, under the stars.

So it’s to your great surprise when an unexpected guest pries open the curtain of flowing foliage one spring afternoon. A bleached blond, leather jacket wearing, motorcycle riding, guest.

You don’t see him at first, too focused on the sketchpad in front of you. He steps in, and watches you work quietly, waiting for you to notice him.

You fascinate him. Every other girl in town can be found at one of three places, yet you were never at any of them. Not at the restaurant sipping on a milkshake. Not at the library studying. And not at the church volunteering.

You’re always elsewhere.

And he’s finally figured out where that is.

He was nervous at first. To follow you. You’d never spoken but that wasn’t anything new to him. No one in this town ever did.

Not to him.

But you don’t look down at him like the others do. Or jump out of the way when he walks by. You don’t tear away from his gaze as fast as the others. You hold on, even if for just a second longer.

Unknowingly, you’ve captivated him more than anyone else he’s ever met.

So he followed you to see where you vanish off to, not expecting you to go into the forest behind your house.

For a half second he considered you dangerous, because what on earth could you be getting up to in a forest for hours? But as he trailed the sounds of your footsteps and saw the small clearing with the tree, it began to make sense.

After jumping ten feet from seeing something tall and dark in your periphery, you exhale a large breath when you realise you aren’t in any danger, and shake out the nerves.

You’d normally worry he was there to hurt you, but something in you knew he never would. Never could. Maybe it was the look he gave as he regarded you.

Soft. Wistful even.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, wary. The first words you’ve ever spoken to him.

Barely contained inside the limits of the willows perimeter, he shrugs, and takes a long look around your little sanctuary.

And as he does, you get your first real look at him.

He’s handsome. Stoically so. And for only a moment do you wonder about all the stories hidden behind his eyes.

The ones now focused on you.

“Wanted to see where you disappear to. You’re never in town.”

So what if you were never in town? Why did he care? Wait—How did he know? Does he pay attention to you?

…Why you?

You didn’t think he cared to notice anyone in this town, let alone you enough to know you don’t follow the social expectations of someone your age.

To pick up on the fact that you’re never there at all.

It makes a million things run through your mind—Why does he care about where you go? What about you is so special? Does he even know your name?—before one resounding thought hits you like a ton of bricks.

Can you trust him?

No one else in this town does, but all of their reasons are superficial bullshit.

All you know is you don’t know the first thing about him, and that now he knows about the one place you feel safe.

“That’s intentional,” you say, cautious. Not giving away anything but not saying much either.

“Can’t blame you,” he responds, before checking out the rooftop of bright green and muttering, “Eyes and ears everywhere.”

Those four words alone are all you need.

He gets it.

“Yeah.”

Maybe you can trust him.

Observing each other for a silent minute, there seems to be an unspoken understanding forming between the two of you.

And he shoves his hands in his pockets, asking, “Mind company?”

You think about it for only a second.

No. No you didn’t.

“As long as you’re quiet. I’m trying to focus,” pointing the eraser end of your pencil to the sketchpad on your lap. “The cattail leaves are the hardest to get the lines right.”

He nods, finally breaking free of his position at the branch's edge. Nearing the base of the tree, he crouches down, about a quarter of the trunk's diameter away from you. It’s close enough to still see each other, but far enough to not bump into one another.

And before nestling in fully, he extends a tattooed hand to you.

“Yoongi.”

An introduction.

“Y/N,” you return, putting your pencil down in the crease of your pad and shaking.

His hand is calloused, the ones you get from years of working with your hands. And strong, a firm grip. The kind you’d want to pull you up if you were dangling over a cliff.

So many stories contained in a 3 second touch. Yet you find yourself wanting to know all of them.

Releasing, he settles in.

What surprises you most about the whole encounter isn’t his arrival, or speaking to him for the first time, or even the handshake.

It’s that when he’s comfortable, with one leg up for an elbow to rest upon, he digs a book out from the confines of his jacket.

Jules Verne, The Mysterious Island.

Your favourite.

Spring fades into a wonderful summer of late nights and early mornings. Of beautiful blue skies and vivid sunsets you appreciate a little more now that you have someone to share them with.

Yoongi comes almost, if not, every day to the willow. Always a different book in hand. Always one of the classics.

The Iliad, 1984, Jane Eyre, Moby Dick, Anna Karina, Dracula, Little Women, Frankenstein, Catcher in the Rye, and those are just the ones you can remember because you’ve read them too. Some of them more than once.

You never expected to have anything in common with the boy that sits next to you. But from the little you’ve spoken to one another over the months, you’ve found that you share so much more than just reading habits.

On a warm April afternoon he told you he reads because he loves it but also to escape the daily hell that is your town.

“Mmm, what’s your favourite?” you’d asked.

Yoongi was lying down with an arm behind his head, staring into the treetop. Brave New World sat opened and facedown on his chest, his hand resting atop it.

“Pride and Prejudice.”

That was the last answer you expected.

“Why?”

He lifts his head to look at you.

“I thought the answer would’ve been obvious.”

After a cold drink on a hot June morning he told you his dreams of moving across the country. As far away as he could get.

“Just have to save up enough money first.”

You wondered how he made any. He definitely didn’t work anywhere in town…maybe waiting to inherit?

Who knew?

Both on a blanket you’d brought, Yoongi’s lying opposite and beside you, his feet by your hips. He used his balled up jacket as a pillow while you sat in your usual spot, capturing the way the branches swayed in your sketchpad.

He’d taken to reading to you while you drew, including you in the grand stories he now knew you loved to read too.

That day he had The Great Gatsby, a story you’d read about 20 times.

You often dreamed of attending one of his parties. Of seeing the green light across the way, or having a conversation with Nick, why he stayed.

“Are you anywhere close?” you asked, in reference to his saving goals.

“Getting there,” was all he gave.

And on a miserable, rainy night in the middle of August, is when you learned he’s all on his own.

Sitting beside each other, you both huddled underneath his jacket for what little protection from the rain it could give. Water droplets fell from the tips of his bangs as he spoke.

“My parents died in a car crash when I was 9, and then my grandma who took care of me, when I was 15.”

You grieved for him as he told you his story.

How he had to raise himself.

Just like you did.

“I’m sorry,” you’d replied gently. Softly. Knowing how it felt to have no one support you. No one to help you.

Knowing how it felt to be alone.

You understood.

You did, you did, you did.

Yoongi just stared at the ground, unable to meet your eyes. And you’d wondered if any of the water on his face was salty as he breathed out a quiet and heartbreaking, “Thank you.”

It made you question how many kind words he’d heard since his family passed.

And also incredibly pissed off at the people in your town for how they’d treated him.

How you’d…treated him.

A silent promise was made then and there. Never having felt more embarrassed and furious with yourself than in that moment. You’d learned your lesson, and hoped that offering up your own piece of vulnerability might help him feel not so alone.

Though you watched the rain turn the pond into a canvas of vibration as you did. Words dragged from the deepest parts of your soul, burning the back of your throat as they left.

“My dad hasn’t been sober a day since my mom died. His eyes are turning yellow,” you said, hugging yourself to stop shaking, convinced yourself it was because of the cold.

Even though it was August.

“He doesn’t recognize me most of the time.”

You closed your eyes, a familiar tang washing over your tongue as you licked the water dripping from your lips. He gave no response, but an arm found its way over your shoulders and squeezed.

He understood.

It’s the beginning of September. The air’s started to nip at your cheeks, and the ground crunches a little more everyday with all of the leaves falling underfoot.

The tips of the willows leaves have begun to turn the colour of the morning sun, and by the time mid October rolls around, it’ll look like golden hour every hour of the day.

Yoongi finally tells you about the job he has at a mechanic's in the next town over. He explains how they don’t pay him nearly what they should, but he doesn’t complain because every cent brings him closer to leaving.

Just him and his bike.

You turn sheepish.

“Can I tell you something?”

He sits closer after all this time, more comfortable around one another. Still not enough to touch, not crossing that invisible boundary line, but enough that you don’t have to turn your head much anymore to see his eyes.

Brown and endless.

“Yeah, sure.”

You take a deep breath.

“I kind of always dreamed of taking your bike to get away from here and never come back.” He gives you a look and you shrug. “Seemed the easiest route to take.”

A smile that starts as a smirk turns into a healthy laugh.

“What’s so funny?” You demand. He has to calm himself down a bit before answering.

“You just uhm…don’t seem the criminal type to me, Cattails.”

There’s a flutter of something in your chest at the stupid nickname. For the drawing you did the day you met.

He continues, unaware of the goings on inside you. “Stealing? You? Nah. Not a chance.”

You open your mouth in mock outrage, scrunching your brow and bringing a hand to your chest.

“I’ll have you know I’d make an excellent criminal,” you lie to his face. He knows it too.

But giving in, you detail the plan you’d always kept in your head for emergencies, heat slowly rising in your cheeks with every word.

“I’d take the key from you when you weren’t looking, duplicate it at the hardware store, and slip it back into your pocket before you ever noticed it was gone. Then go to your place in the middle of the night and be halfway across the country before morning.”

“Oh yeah?” he says with a raised brow you don’t trust.

“Yeah,” you confirm with a little too much faux confidence.

“And where do I keep my key, Y/N? Hmm?”

“Your jacket pocket,” you’d deduced long ago.

“Mmm,” he tsks with a shake of his head. “Nope.”

Oh. Well then it must be,

“Your pants pocket?”

“Nuh uh, try again.”

Damnit!

You’d never thought much about it. How many places can someone keep a key on them without a bag and it not be in their pockets?

“Ummm, in your wallet?” Far-fetched but worth a shot.

“Ooo,” he blows through pursed lips before smirking at you again, but this one was different. It caused something very deep inside of you to turn to lava. “Good guess, but also no.”

Closing his book and setting it down, Yoongi straightens and reaches inside the collar of his shirt, retrieving a necklace you didn’t know he wore.

It’s small, the key, and almost silver. The colouring is tarnished from years of use, with worn teeth and some lettering at its base.

He holds it against a palm to show you.

“Why there?” You ask, wondering if there’s a reason aside from convenience.

With a sad tug of his lips, he answers. “Bike was my dads. I like to keep him close.”

A tender smile meets your own plush as you stare at the little key, appreciating it more after learning the importance it has to him.

And Yoongi watches you, viewing his ticket to freedom with the biggest eyes he’s ever seen, full of that same compassion and understanding you’ve always given him.

An understanding he didn’t think he’d ever see again from this place.

One he doesn’t know if he deserves.

Before you can respond, he’s taking the chain off and sliding it over your head, hand lingering for a second longer than necessary at your nape.

“Yoongi,” you hesitate.

It’s the first time you’ve said his name out loud.

You like the way it feels on your tongue. Warm, sweet. Like honey.

What you don’t know is he loves the way it sounds coming from you.

You falter. “W-what are you doing?”

“What’s it look like I’m doing?”

“But it’s your key! Don’t you need it?”

“Nah, got a spare in the storage compartment of the bike,” he says, gesturing to the one you now hold in your palms. “This way you won’t have to go through the hassle of stealing it.”

“But I—”

“Keep it,” he cuts you off. “In case you need it more than I do.”

It never leaves your neck.

“You want me to what?” You ask as you walk towards the forest edge, Yoongi trailing on your left.

“Take her out for a spin. See if you even can. You’re the one who has all these grand plans but doesn’t even know how to turn it on,” he explains, referring to his motorcycle.

“Those were just daydreamed plans! I never thought I’d actually use them! What if I crash?”

He was kidding right? He must be.

For all the time you two have spent together, you’ve never spoken or been around one another in public. An unspoken agreement.

What happens under the willow tree, stays under the willow tree.

So to be out in the open? On his bike? You don’t know if you can. Or if you should.

But then you remember a promise you made not long ago.

“You won’t crash,” he says, like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.

“How do you know? Like you said, I don’t even know how to turn it on,” you hmph.

“Because I’ll be there.”

And maybe it’s the tone of voice he uses, or the fact that you trust him, you find yourself saying,

“Okay, fine.”

Minutes later you’re swinging a leg over the bike, and sinking on to the surprisingly comfortable seat.

“Where do I put the key?” You ask, taking it from your neck and handing it over.

Yoongi puts it in the side of the motorcycle, somewhere close to your knee.

“Here,” he shows as he turns it to the ‘ON’ position.

“Oh.”

What a weird place for an ignition.

“Mhm,” he acknowledges, then points. “Put your hand on the brake, it’s the part that sticks out on the right hand side. Hold it firmly against the handlebar. Don’t roll the handle bar itself back though, okay? That’s the throttle.”

Doing what he says, you hold the brake tight against the handle bar, murmuring an ‘okay’ under your breath.

“Now hit that button there on the right to let the fuel pump start up,” referring to the button beside the brake near your thumb. You do so.

He checks a little gauge on the side near the ignition. Seemingly pleased, he continues. “And now hit the button on the left to start it.”

Following his words once again, the engine roars to life the second the button is pressed, purring powerfully.

You feel exhilarated and a little terrified. But he’s here. You know you’re safe.

Voice a little louder to combat the noise from the motor, he says, “Okay, now on the left handle bar, grab the clutch. I’ll show you how to move into first gear, and look at me,” your eyes meet his, “do not let go of the clutch.”

You nod, but for extra precaution, he clamps his hand over the one you have holding it. You watch as he bends to put your left foot on a pedal and presses it down till you hear a pop, pushing up the kickstand when he rises.

The bike is heavy, now that you’re the only thing keeping it up right, you can feel its weight. And you understand why they’re designed to be able to have your feet on the ground even when sitting. You’d probably fall over otherwise.

“If you’re uncomfortable you let me know, yeah? And if you get scared just do what you’re doing now with this hand,” he squeezes for emphasis, “it’ll take all the power away from the engine and you’ll just coast until you stop, okay?”

“Okay!” You say, more excited by the minute. Your toes and fingertips are starting to tingle.

“I‘m gonna let go and you’re going to very, very slowly let up on the clutch—not all the way. Just enough that you move at about a pedal bike's pace. Let me jog down the road about 50 feet or so, and then you meet me there. Hold tight to the clutch again when you’re about 20 feet from me and I’ll catch you. Sound good?”

Nodding one more time in confirmation, nerves crawl all over your skin. You can’t describe the new feeling fully, but the closest you can find to it is probably the beginnings of an adrenaline rush.

You watch as Yoongi jogs down the road, throws his hands up over his head, and gives you two big thumbs up.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly release some pressure off the clutch and begin to move forwards. You know your feet are supposed to go on the metal foot rests below you, but you're so focused on not falling or crashing that you just stick them out so they don’t touch the ground.

Halting your left hands release at the speed he said to, you cruise along, wind picking up with your increased pace.

Holy shit!

You’re riding a motorcycle!

You never thought you could, it was just a dream for so long. Something you kept in the back of your mind just for fun, but now you’re actually doing it! Your driving down the road on an actual real life motorcycle!? All by yourself!?

Turns out all you needed was a little encouragement and someone you trust to spot you.

Aiming for Yoongi, you clamp down on the clutch once again, cutting power to the engine. You drift right into his awaiting hands braced for the impact, and he slides a little on the gravel road before getting you to a full stop.

He presses one of the buttons you did earlier and the bike shuts down, allowing you to jump off.

You’re positively giddy.

“Oh my god did you see me?! I just did that! I just drove a motorcycle! Can you believe it?! I can’t believe I just did that!” You don’t even register what you're saying, too full of excitement to care.

Yoongi can’t contain his grin as he gets the bike standing on its own. Your joy is too infectious not to take part in, and he walks over for a high five to celebrate.

But to his surprise, you bypass his hand completely and embrace him, throwing your arms around his neck.

It takes only a second before he’s enveloping you with his own, not letting the chance to hold you go by.

“Thank you!” You say, before letting go, not even realising what you did. You’re too busy catching your breath from all the rambling and jumping around, still filled with the remnants of your elation.

Meanwhile, Yoongi can’t get the feeling of your body against him out of his head. How soft you were. How warm. The way you smelled like a mixture of your natural scent and outside.

And he’s asking, “You wanna to go for a ride?” before he can tell himself not too.

The question makes you pause. Was he serious? Because you can’t think of anything you want more.

Staring at him, your answer is far too gentle for someone who was just screeching with joy.

“Really?”

He nods, still untrusting of his mouth, confirming with a ‘mhm.’

You don’t hesitate. You want to feel like that again.

Not a minute later he’s giving you the helmet and securing it tightly. He also makes you wear his leather jacket to protect your torso, leaving him in just an oversized black t-shirt and dark ripped jeans.

Swinging a leg over, he pats the seat behind him.

And you’re glad to have the helmet on because without it he would most definitely see your inability to meet his eye. You can barely focus on anything aside from the sight in front of you and being wrapped in the scent of him. But then he gives a tattooed hand to help you hop on, and says,

“You have to put your arms around me and hold on. Otherwise you might fly off the back when we accelerate,” holding his hands behind him to guide yours.

What? You didn’t think this far. He—you have t—Ummm, well...

“Okay,” you answer, voice small, letting your hands be guided.

Despite the loss of his jacket, he’s still deliciously warm, and the heat in your cheeks increases tenfold with your hands now splayed over his abdomen.

Lightly defined muscles meet your fingertips through the thin material of his shirt and you do your best to memorize them as he turns on the bike and pulls away from the curb.

He starts slower than normal to make sure you’re alright, but when you give him the thumbs up, he speeds up to just over the limit and you hold tight.

You’ve never felt so free, loving the rush of wind that flows over your body from going so fast. It’s pushing a welcomed cold through the fabric of your clothes as your body temperature has only increased since getting on.

You could go anywhere, do anything. Nothing and nobody could stop you.

You want that. You want it so bad. And he gave you the key to be able to.

Literally.

But now when you think about leaving, you think about leaving with him. Yoongi driving and you sitting right here on the back, nothing but each other, the road, and hope for the future.

Growing confident enough to release your grasp after a few minutes, you raise your hands in the air, and let the wind catch your fingertips. A whoop of joy leaves you at this newfound feeling he’s given you.

Then another, and another, before returning them to their place around him.

Yoongi can’t help but smile the biggest he has in years when hearing your squeals of glee.

Because for the first time in a long time, he feels it too.

Yoongi doesn’t come to the willow for almost a week.

He’s never done that since he started coming. Not once.

And you’re worried.

Where is he? Is he okay? You have no idea.

It’s not like you can go looking for him.

And you two aren’t anything anyway, so you shouldn’t even be this worried in the first place. If he’s safe, or in the bottom of a ditch somewhere.

But you can’t help it.

Just like you can’t help the feelings that have blossomed for him over the months. The feelings you didn’t want to admit to yourself for fear of him not returning them.

Yet there they were, and there isn’t anything you can do about them now.

They make you wonder if you’ll ever see him again.

Six days.

It takes him six days to return. Stomping in, and visibly pissed off.

“What’s wrong?” You ask once he’s close enough to hear.

“I’m leaving,” he says flatly, uncaring. Like you asked him what colour the sky was.

And your stupid, silly little unrequited heart shatters.

“What?”

“I’m leaving. Taking off. Getting out of here. I can’t do it anymore.”

Piece by piece it falls from your chest and into the depths of your stomach.

“B-but why? What happened?”

“I got fired.”

“Fired?”

“Yeah, fired. I tried all week to fix this one stupid mistake I made,” he explains, smoothing over his creased brow with two fingers. “But it cost more to fix than to keep me around, so they fired me. I don’t have the amount of cash I planned for, but I have enough to make it work. And I can pick up odd jobs on the road if I need to.” He nears, extending a tattooed hand. “I just came to get my key and say goodbye.”

Your hand reaches for it, clutching it tightly. You don’t want to give it back.

Who the hell is this? Because you barely recognize him. It certainly isn’t the Yoongi you’ve come to know.

The wonderfully kind, classics reading, dream-sharing, motorcycle instructing, freedom key giving man.

The one who told you about his grandmother, and his parents. Who read you stories while you drew and ate meals together. Who taught you how to ride his motorcycle.

The Yoongi you fell for.

Your Yoongi.

The person currently standing in front of you isn’t him at all.

He’s the hard, cold exterior, crafted over years of verbal and societal abuse. The one everyone avoids at all costs when walking through town. The person he had to become in order to survive.

You don’t know this person.

And you hate it.

You hate it so much it decides to exit your body in the form of tears. Ones of sadness, frustration, and heartbreak.

He’s—he’s leaving.

Actually leaving.

This place, it’s people.

You...

The few remaining pieces of your heart plunge to the floor, crumbling to dust as they hit. Nothing but a hollow, empty cavern remaining where it once sat.

“But I–you…,” the lump in your throat only getting bigger when you try to speak. You face away from him.

Don’t let him see you cry.

He’s clearly never felt anything close to what you do for him, so suck it up. Reign it in. You do it everyday. So why can’t you do it now?

You don’t get to feel this way!

Shove it back down, get it down!. Crush it all until it’s nothing.

Make it go away. Far, far away.

Yoongi’s face is falling while you’re taking deep breaths to calm down.

In all of his rage and despair at his terrible week, he’s forgotten who he was speaking to.

His kind hearted, music-sharing, been through hell and back, kickass girl. The one he can call his only true friend.

He’s such an asshole. He hadn’t seen you for almost a week, which killed him in of itself. And then the second he does, all he‘s able to do is spew the frustration and misery he’s been feeling the entire time you were apart.

Nah, he’s worse than an asshole.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t ha—”

But he freezes at the sound of a small, wet inhale.

You’re crying.

He made you cry.

And a regret bigger than the ocean drowns him.

“Hey, wait, please,” he says, rushing over, but you hold out a hand to stop him. “Please, don’t cry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

He reaches for you again, and again you stop him. You can’t let him comfort you.

Not when he doesn’t realise he’s become the only person in this whole godforsaken, judgemental hellhole of a neighbourhood wasteland you have.

Your grandparents are dead, along with your mum. Your dad’s an abusive drunk, too far gone to remember he has a daughter. You don’t have any aunts or uncles or cousins to rely on, nor do you have any real friends.

You have no one, aside from Yoongi.

And now you won’t even have him.

So you can’t let him comfort you. Can’t let him see you break.

You can’t, you can’t, you can’t.

Because you don’t know if you’ll be able to put yourself back together without him if you do.

But a quiet, “Y/N, please,” imbued with pain you haven’t heard since a rainy August night leaves his lips. A last ditch effort to get you to look at him, to let him help.

And it breaks you completely, bursting into a million tiny pieces to match your heart on the floor.

An unrestrained sob falls from your mouth, and he pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you. Yours go to his neck as he drags you onto his lap, gripping tight.

He holds you through every whimper and hiccup and stuttered inhale and shudder. Through every muttered ‘please don’t go’ and ‘please don’t leave me,’ that escapes, stroking a hand along the back of your head and down your spine, soothing.

He whispers, “it’s okay. I’m right here. It’s okay,” on repeat with the motion. Over and over and over until only occasional sniffles and deep breaths remain.

You hug him tighter as you start to shiver, the warmth created from your breakdown beginning to wear off. Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to slide off his jacket and throw it over your shoulders. An instant cocoon of warm and comfort.

When his hands find their place back around your waist, he dares to speak.

“I got you.”

“I know.” And you do. Your voice is a little wobbly, as you’re unmoving from the embrace, but you most definitely do.

This is your Yoongi. The one you’ve come to know. To trust.

Of course he’s got you.

You use one of your long sleeves to dry your eyes and under your nose. With the nearing autumn weather, you’ve returned to occasionally wearing them.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe into his neck after a long beat of silence.

“What could you possibly be sorry for, Cattails?”

The return of your nickname has a grin threatening to emerge.

“For freaking out. I didn’t know that was going to happen.”

“Don’t be,” he says firmly. “I sprung that on you in such a shit way because I was in an even shittier mood. And you clearly weren’t prepared to hear it. I should’ve known better, so don’t you dare be sorry about anything,” he loosens his hold to pull back and look at you. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

You look down, hiding, not wanting him to see you like this.

“None of that,” he whispers, and brings a finger to your chin, tilting up.

It doesn’t meet much resistance.

Your eyes are still a bit swollen and patchy, but it’s the concern in his that makes you crack the smallest of smiles, if only to see his worry erased.

He already has enough on his plate. No need to add to it.

Not able to offer much more than a quirk of the lip, you’re relieved that it’s enough when he starts to wear one of his own.

It’s then you realise your position. Like the sight of it cleared your brain fog.

You’re kneeling over his lap, sitting on his thighs, face inches from his. One of his hands is holding your chin up while the other rests low on your waist, your own still loose around him.

So close, yet so far away.

Because he’s leaving.

And that thought alone allows you to throw caution to the goddamn window. It’s not going to matter once he’s gone, and you’ve wanted it to be with someone special.

He’s as special as they come.

Leaning forward, you close your eyes and the gap between the two of you.

Eyelids fluttering as your lips brush his. Soft, and gentle.

Like him.

You hold only long enough to make sure it counts before pulling back.

It’s funny, really.

It was just a few seconds, but you already find yourself wanting so much more with him. An unfamiliar but welcomed electric pulse finds itself running through your blood at the thought, and it makes you want his lips everywhere.

Your mouth, your jaw, your neck.

Anywhere he can reach.

Sparks pool inside you. Sparks and butterflies and fast flowing lava.

You let yourself relish in the glorious feeling for a single moment, before the reality of what you just did sinks in.

And then you’re scared.

Terrified, actually.

To open your eyes, see his face. His reaction.

What if he hated it? What if he’s never felt anything but platonic affection towards you and now you’ve gone and done this?

Sure, he’s leaving. But now that you think about it, does him leaving mean you’ll never see him again?

What if you just ruined everything?

Teeth sinking into the plush of your bottom lip, you take a peek.

For the second time today you feel your heart breaking, this time at the look on his face.

Is it shock? Or worse.

Disgust?

Doesn’t matter.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt. Not knowing what else to say.

“I’m sorry,” you say again, trying to get out of his hold, but he keeps you there. Unyielding. And you start rambling. “I shouldn’t have done that. You clearly don’t—It’s just that you’re leaving and I—“

Lips on yours shut you up.

It’s fervent and needy and passionate as he pulls you closer by the hips, desperately trying to get you as close to him as physically possible. Your nails drag over his scalp as your fingers snake through his blond locks. They elicit a delicious groan from his mouth that you consume with your own.

It’s the most intoxicating sound you’ve ever heard, and you want more of it. So you do it again, and again, and again.

He moves down your jaw and neck, sucking at the tender flesh near your pulse point, and your mouth drops open at the feeling.

You’ve always wondered, but…you didn’t know it could feel like this.

Every touch, every whisper, every press of his lips to yours feels amazing. He’s pulling pleasure out of places you wouldn’t have thought possible before him. And you never want to go back to not knowing.

The sweetest of whimpers leaves your mouth as he gently bites a soft spot, then soothing the glorious pain he created with the kindness of his tongue.

Yoongi swears to any god who will listen that he’ll do whatever they want so long as he gets to hear that sound repeatedly and for the rest of his life.

He returns to your lips and says, “come with me.”

You’re so focused on feeling that it takes a moment for his words to land. “What?”

“Leave with me. Let’s get the fuck outta here, and never look back, the both of us. Together.”

Yoongi looks so serious but..

He—he can’t be serious can he? 15 minutes ago he was going on and on about leaving and needing his key back and saying goodbye.

And now?

Sensing your hesitance, he punctuates each of the next three words with a kiss.

“Come. With. Me.”

It makes your answer arrive without really thinking. You don’t need to think. Not when you know deep in your newly reconstructed heart that it’ll always be the same whether you think about it or not.

So long as you’re with him, you know you’ll be,

“Okay.”

“Yeah?” He questions like he can’t believe it. Can’t believe you'd agree.

You make sure there isn’t a single doubt in his head as you look him dead in the eyes and confirm.

“Yes, Yoongi,” another kiss. “I’ll go with you.”

He pulls you into him for what feels like a million more under your shared willow tree.

Your salvation.

And you know they’re going to be the firsts of many, many more to come.

Three days later, and two bags packed full of all your earthly possessions, you’re on the back of Yoongi’s motorcycle.

In those three days he’s prepared everything else you’ll need. He’s gotten a cute leather jacket and helmet for you, some reading materials for the road, snacks, drinks. A place by his side for the foreseeable future.

In the same span of time, you’ve given him a home in your heart, someone he can rely on other than himself. Talk to, trust, experience life with.

Something he hasn’t had in nearly ten years.

Something he never wants to lose again.

He swings a leg over and you unclip the chain from your neck, handing him the key to the bike, to your now shared future.

Driving out of town—straight down Main Street—you watch as all the people you grew up with, who you almost destroyed yourself to fit in with, gawk.

Watch as they judge you for being with him, your best friend. For leaving, and not doing what they all expected of you.

For not being like one of them.

Because you’re not one of them.

You never have been.

And just like the dust that flies behind the wheels, you feel weightless, not giving a single fuck what they think for the first time in your life.

You don’t have to anymore.

You’re free.

A/N 3: Thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

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ystrike1 · 7 months

Text

Yonezawa-san Is Done Being Human - By Eisuke Kawata (7.5/10)

A happy puppy and an evil, abusive yandere boyfriend. At first glance the two men could not possibly be more different, but neither of them are anything close to normal. Here we follow the story of a f**ish call girl, who chooses her sweet and clingy client over her controlling and paranoid high school sweetheart. Wait, is the dog a stalker too?

Haru Yonezawa has a good job. Everybody relies on him. He's calm and kind and a little handsome. He's been dating a beautiful woman for about a year. He's got it made. How does he do it?

Haru is a puppy. When I say that I mean he uses puppy play to decompress after work. He does it multiple times a week, and he loves it. He holds toys in his teeth. He rolls around. He wears big paw gloves so he isn't tempted to do human things while playing.

One day he has a stressful day at work.

He forgets about his at home dinner date with Mei.

She even has a key. He totally forgot because he wanted to play puppy so bad.

....nobody is really in the wrong here. Haru Yonezawa is allowed to be disappointed. They did date for a year, and Mei immediately breaks up with him. Calls him gross. Everything.

But.

He also wasn't honest with her, and a f**ish like this is a big deal.

He's a sub kind of puppy. He wants to be coddled. He knows finding a partner is nearly impossible. Now that Mei is gone buying a rental master isn't cheating. He decides to stay away from traditional dating for awhile, because he needs to satisfy his puppy needs.

He's shocked.

His new master is Mitani! His mousy and unproductive coworker. She's a weak link at work! She always makes mistakes...but she is a gentle and good master. She knows what Haru wants. She's good at giving it. He starts to enjoy playing ten times more.

Mitani is genuinely into it by the way. She thinks Haru's sub behavior is super cute.

Hooray.

Validation.

Praise!!!!

Let the weirdness begin!

Participating in f**ish play is totally normal. Having a secret second job in this economy is also totally fine....they agree to meet up regularly. Consent. Cool.

Haru follows Mitani home one day.

Um.

That's how he finds out a terrible truth. Mitani has a boyfriend, but she's stuck working two jobs because he's an abusive creep. He told her to be a call girl, to test her loyalty??? What? He's totally twisted. She's been with him for four years, and he's a loser. He's a failed musician, and he blames her for literally everything. It's brutal.

It's bloody.

Things escalate.

Mitani is DEEP in an abusive relationship. Yuki, her first crush and love, has become a total monster. Haru starts ramming into her private life to save her. It's heroic and cool and I'm not gonna lie it's a little weird. His intuition is spot on though.

Mitani is with Yuki for two reasons.

Pity, and fear.

Haru admits that Mitani is the perfect master. That's why he's so attached to her, but he can't let her suffer. He can't enjoy her services and send her home to a monster. He can't be a dumb dog. He can't sit in his safe home and wait for her.

She resists. She thinks her fear is love, but Haru shows her puppy love. Total joy. He embraces being a dog eager for love, so she can feel the affection she's missing in her relationship.

Yuki has been recording her.

Her twisted, possessive, deadbeat, guitar playing boyfriend planted a recorder in her phone. Specifically so he could record her play sessions with other men. So he could be certain that no "real sexual stuff" was happening. When Mitani shows real affection for her customer, Haru Yonezawa, Yuki goes ballistic. He starts threatening to send pictures of her as a call girl to her company. He actually does it. Her identity almost gets exposed but she finds the envelope before it gets opened. He says he'll email the recordings he has to the customer service email.

He is truly evil.

Yuki only loses because Haru and Mitani team up. Mitani temporarily moves in with Haru. Then Yuki uses ANOTHER tracking device to find the apartment. He breaks in. A fight breaks out, and Mitani hits him. She fights back for the first time.

She cries.

She says it's over.

Yuki blinks.

He packs his things. He shakes her hand. He says he knows they can never meet again. The cops don't get involved. It's all very real. Mitani cuts him off. No financial support. No free place to live. The loser yandere has to leave.

The last arc is nuts.

Mitani has to save Haru from a female yandere. It's even messier.

#Yonezawa-san Is Done Being Human #yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #seinen

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toastermoth · 4 months

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hellloooo~ could you possibly do a Teru Minamoto x male reader who gets rlly nervous when around anyone he doesn’t know well- but he only actually knows teru so he’s basically nervous all the time and teru is his comfort person-? I hope this isn’t too vague 🥲🥲🥲

Teru Minamoto x M!Reader

It's not to vague dwdw! Sorry if this isn't what you had in mind but I had fun writing this!

Saying you were a nervous person was an understatement. Yes you were able to make it through school and in public spaces on the outside but in the inside you were usually nervous. Even with friends by your side it was like the nervousness and overthinking never stopped. So when Teru Minamoto, literally the most popular and most liked guy in the school, was chosen to be your partner to sit by in class for the rest of the year, nervousness wasn't even a synonym for what you were feeling. Once you told your friends they were.. supportive in their own way. "Lucky!! You get to sit next to the Minamoto!!" *well get isn't really close to forced* So for the first month you maintained your distance and stayed quiet, talking when only you needed to and Teru (feeling a sense of rejection from his class partner) decided it is now his goal to get you to talk to him. It started off with saying hi whenever you came in the classroom with a smile beaming from ear to ear to sitting by you before class starts and just talking about the most randomest shit from homework to what his brother is doing. And eventually for the first time, you felt not forced to give an answer and even though he'd wait patiently for an answer he didn't seem to make you give one. It started from nodding to show you were listening to a few worded sentences to eventually you responding back in an engaged convo. He noticed even the smallest things about you from the way you write your letters to the way you have with words that makes him swoon. He also quickly notices how nervous you become with most things, how sometimes you bounce your leg to tangling your fingers when his friends are loud and boisterous talking to him.

"Hey, sorry if my friends are loud, but if you ever get too nervous don't feel bad to hold my hand alright?"

That's all you needed to fall for him even more. Truth be told, you were content with your sexuality and your friends knew. That's one thing you weren't worried about until Teru came around and then your brain went *You think he's your friend? Now how about CRUSH?* When you held his hand for the first time when the teacher was yelling at everybody to be quiet you noticed a small hue of pinkish red on his face and a genuine small creeping onto his face. He looked down at your hands and intertwines them and somehow you felt calmer and your breathing went back to normal rather than small fast breaths. Eventually he writes in your palm, which wasn't unusual but he wanted to make sure you were looking. Once he knew you were looking at your guys' hands he drew out "I <3 Y O U." He got worried that he overstepped his boundaries when your legs started bouncing up and down but quickly you opened his hand and drew "I <3 Y O U 2"

From that point on you and him were almost always seen together, not because you were always nervous and needed him around (though you wanted to say that-) but because HE wanted to be around you and make sure that you weren't nervous. From school, to him walking you home, to even going to public places with him whenever you were nervous. No matter what even in different classes than the ones you shared, he always texts you periodically and will drop everything to comfort you. Since the teachers love him, they wouldn't ever question it if he needed to go somewhere since he always got his work done.

His ways of comforting you can include, writing on your hands, holding your hands, letting you drum your fingers on his leg, laying on him, and hugging you when your nervousness gets exceptionally bad.

He loves you, and he needs you just as much as you need him.

#tbhk x male reader #tbhk x reader #teru minamoto #tbhk teru #tbhk teru x reader #tbhk teru minamoto #tbhk teru minamoto x reader #teru x male reader #teru minamoto x reader #teru minamoto x male reader #tbhk #toilet bound hanako kun #jibaku shounen hanako kun

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professional-demon-master · 1 year

Text

Cutting you off pt.2

Mammon

Light angst/ fluff. Good ending !! GN reader

* Listen he might have been a little bit rude to you since you got here, but he is the one you spent more time with.

* So it isn’t a surprise when you start feeling a little bit more comfortable around him.

* Even with his constant nagging, he’s not that bad most of the time, ignoring those moments when he tries to convince you to lend him money or start a very sketchy business with him.

* Soon you start sharing your interests with him, even if he didn’t showed a lot of interest most of the time.

* After a few movie nights in your room you start bringing more and more movies from the human world, you wanted to be able to show him movies just as good as the one he showed to you from the Devildom!

* Quickly that becomes the topic you use to bond with him, so most of the time you spend it telling him about the movies you like, the directors you can’t stand and the actors you liked seeing in the screen.

* After some weeks mammon starts to get tired of you asking him to come see a movie with you. Do you know how much of his time you’re using? He could be making Grimm right now instead of watching an animated movie with you!

* Despite that, he isn’t going to deny he enjoys spending time with you, watching you get excited every time something happens, even when he knows you’ve already watched the movie a thousand times before.

* But it all changes after you invite him to another movie night.

* You’ve been trying to find him all day long so you can invite him to watch “pretty woman”. You had already told him all about it and how it was a human realm classic, so he needed to see it too.

* When you finally find alone him near his locker, you decide to take the opportunity, if you’re lucky enough, you could watch it together that same night!

* “Hey Mammon! Movie night in my room? I found the movie I told you last week about! It’s a classic, a lot of romance but it won’t bore you, I promise!” You spoke fast while looking at him with a huge smile.

Mammon looked at you, and before he could answer he noticed the demons that walked past you, some of them laughed, some of them whispered something to each other and even him could tell they were mocking him. He did spend most of his time telling everybody how he didn’t wanted to spend time with you after all, he kept telling everybody that it was just that Lucifer made him spend time with you and he couldn’t say no.

And before he could actually analyze the words that he was about to say, he crossed his arms and looked around while answering loud enough “Pfft, I don’t know what ya talking about. I have better plans than watchin' some human chick flick with some human!” He flicked his tongue while finally looking at you. He tried really hard to ignore the way your excited face had turned to one of sadness and even some embarrassment.

“Y-You’re right, we’ve seen enough movies already” you tried to brush it off smiling at him, like this was just another joke, but even he could tell how fake it was. “I’ll see you around then”

* Mammon felt a knot in his stomach watching you practically speed walk away from him.

* For the rest of the day he tried to tell himself it was okay, you’ll get over it and soon you’ll be as close as you were before, watching weird movies that you liked and comparing them to the ones mammon liked from the devildom! It was just a matter of time! One day and you’ll be back to normal!

* When classes ended he noticed you sent him a text explaining that you were going to walk back home with Levi, since it was one of those weird days where he actually attended school instead of taking online classes. He didn’t think much about it, he supposed you’d probably want the rest of the day to yourself, but still, by tomorrow morning you’ll be back to normal!

* Except tomorrow arrived and Mammon still felt like there was an invisible wall between the two of you.

* You weren’t exactly ignoring him either, during the walk to school you even exchanged ideas with him about a recent model gig mammon had landed, but it was different.

* Mammon still tried to convince himself that you probably just needed some more time. Friday was just around the corner, and taking in count your movie nights took place on Friday nights, he was sure you’d be back at his door asking him to see a movie with you. It’s science (not really, but don’t let him know)

* Friday arrived but you didn’t. It was already 6pm and he was losing his patience. What could take you so much time?

* But like the great demon he is, he decided to take the first step, he knows humans can be dumb creatures sometimes. You should be thankful the Great Mammon was giving you the opportunity to ask him to watch a movie!

* He marched to your room and what he saw when he opened the door made him stop in his tracks before he even began to speak.

* There you were, watching a movie and with Asmo of all people!

* “Hey! Knock next time before you enter a room! We thought you were a ghost!” Asmo yelled kinda startled while you paused the movie to look at mammon as well.

* “What’s this? What are you doing in MC's room?”

* “Isn’t it obvious? We’re having a slumber party!” Asmo squealed happily while wrapping an arm in your shoulders and bringing you closer. “Yeah! I ran into Asmo while going for a horror movie, turns out he likes them too so now we’re having a marathon!” You smiled at him “he also thought this could be a good time to do a skincare routine together so it’s a good bargain if you think about it” “good? Darling it’s great! As soon as we remove this face mask you’re gonna have that porcelain skin everyone wants”

* Mammon felt that knot coming back to his stomach. Slumber party? Movie marathon? Those were your things! How could you be doing it with someone else?

* “Pfft, y-yeah. Whatever, only losers stay home on a Friday night.”

* “You sure mammon? You could join us. I know scary movies aren’t really your thing but-“

* “Yeah, no, I’m sure. I have plans. See ya”

* And with that final word, Mammon closed the door feeling conflicted. He finally had time to do his plans but none of them seem as appealing as laying in your bedroom floor eating trashy food and watching a new movie together.

* But he was as prideful as his brother when it came to this situations. He wasn’t just going to accept and show he was more than okay with dropping everything to be with you. He could always find something else to do.

* The second best thing to do was spend his Friday at the Fall. But as the shots keep coming in and he kept on dancing with every person that appeared in his vision he realized this just felt wrong.

* He felt confused and a little bit angry. Before you came to his life, this would’ve been the definition of a great night! But now, as he kept on declining invitations to continue partying in a more “private” place and stopped chugging drinks, he realized he felt empty, he kinda wished he had stayed at your room, sitting next to you and hearing you talk about what was happening in the movies you kept showing him.

* At around 4 am he decided he had enough of people pretending they liked him just for the free rounds and went back to HoL.

* Once there he entered as silently as he could and walked straight to his room, he wanted to sulk a little bit in his loneliness a little bit more before going back to bed.

* Once there, while he started getting into bed, he felt all the sleepiness leave his body when he found another body sleeping there.

He screamed a little bit louder than intended, making the body in his bed raise fast. He quickly recognized your form.

“WHAT THE HELL!” He grabbed his chest, feeling his heart beat quickly. “What are ya doing here? Ya scared the shit outta me!”

You grabbed the sheets while sitting up looking at him. “I’m sorry! I was waiting for you, but you were taking too long and I felt asleep!”

Mammon recovered his posture and cleared his throat. “I thought you were having a slumber party with Asmo” he crossed his arms while trying to look casual.

“I was, but he ended up going back to his bed when he noticed my sheets weren’t made of silk and I might have had a nightmare while sleeping alone” you confessed a little ashamed. “ I didn’t wanted to sleep alone so I came looking for you but you weren’t home yet. I’m sorry”.

Mammon was impressed. You felt scared and you came looking for him? And then waited for him to come back? At this point he was grateful the lights were out cause he would’ve hated for you to notice the redness of his cheeks. “Y-Yeah, makes sense. Who’s better to protect ya than your first man? No one” he sat at the edge of his bed while you moved to the side to make room for him. “Yes, I’m lucky the great mammon is here” you said while you lied next to him a little bit too happy.

You looked right into his eyes, capable of identifying his features thanks to the moonlight that peeked through his windows and gave him a dreamlike look. “I missed you today”

“Ya did?”

“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, I loved spending time with Asmo, but I missed my noodle buddy. Yesterday I bought some of those spicy noodles you like.” You admitted with a little sappy smile. “I figured we could eat them together. No human movies this time, promise.”

Mammon looked at you a little bit sad at your last comment. He exhaled a before actually answering this time. “Uhm, I-I guess one movie a week wouldn’t be so wrong. Ya' have some good movie recommendations” you smiled at him fondly, a slow blink appearing once you finally felt the tiredness come back. Your first man was back and you could finally relax “I would really like that, yes”.

“Why don’t cha tell me what that scary movie was about ? It must have been pretty good to give you nightmares”

Im really liking this series, lol. What about you?

#mammon avatar of greed #angst/comfort #mammon obey me #obey me mc #yandere mammon #obey me mammon

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propertyofwhitney67 · 6 months

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When I saw the answers about how Whitney would react to a dead PC, I couldn’t help but send it to you sorry. I’m not even a writer, but I woke up with this random urge. Have a nice day though! -😭 anon

First thing’s first: Denial.

You’re not really dead, right? They’d probably forget you’re gone the first few days after your passing. They’d wait in the park when it’s raining with their cigarette for you to show up as always with the occasional milkshake before it hits them that you’re never going to step foot in that park again.

They don’t even attend maths classes anymore. It hurts to see your empty chair.

However, I feel like Whitney would quite quickly float through the first stage and land hard in the second: anger.

WHY did you leave them? WHY did YOU, the only person who doesn’t irritate them, the only person they'd loved like that, have to FUCKING leave them? Their friends had to suffer through his small outbursts occasionally too. I feel like he’d lose a few of them over it.

Though it wouldn’t get too physical until they finally stepped foot in maths class to see somebody sitting in YOUR seat. The seat YOU always sat on when you were alive. The seat they’d always shove other students from just to sit next to.

Let’s just say, things weren’t pretty, and that student was beaten to a pulp until River had to find a way to drag Whitney out of the class.

The next stage: Bargaining

Though they might not show it, deep down, they’d be thinking about what-ifs. Internally, they’d be blaming themselves and others in this stupid fucked-up town.

If only he was nicer to you, then this fucking world wouldn't be toying with him like this.

If only they were there with you, they could have avoided all this.

And, if they were indirectly the cause (like temporarily giving you off to the wrong person), then if only they left you alone that day or dragged you along with their lackeys, then you wouldn’t be gone.

You’d still be roaming the halls, sitting next to them in maths class, or bringing them with you to the orphanage sometimes.

The depression stage would probably find its way in with this.

They’d start dealing with bad coping mechanisms. They’d start smoking and drinking more often, drowning themselves in alcohol and nicotine to make themselves feel better.

They’ll also start sleeping around with other people. Are they trying to find that spark they had with you? Or are they trying to find you in this temporary fling? Who knows. It could be both.

But what is known is while the relief is temporary at the moment, they get out of that one-night stand feeling as bad as they did before, if not worse. So they sleep around again, and aggressively so. Especially if that person shows even the slightest resemblance to you.

I don’t know whether Whitney would be able to fully reach the acceptance stage. Would they really be able to live with themselves normally without you by their side? And, with the case I mentioned above, would they be able to live with the guilt that they indirectly put you in the line of fire?

Only time will tell. But if they do get there, it will take them a lot of time, but they won’t find anybody like you. Not anybody they’d give that note to that you left hidden in the second drawer next to your bed, to be forgotten by everybody but you and them.

“I love you, slut”

I gonna fucking cry. It hurts

My poor baby. I think even if it wasn't his 'fault' he would still be mad at himself. He couldn't protect you, he wasn't there for you when you needed him.

I don't think he would ever fully accept what happened. Will try to forget about you but can't because everywhere he goes you're there, waiting for him. When he fucks somebody else you're there when he wakes up, looking disappointed. When he drinks until he can't anymore you're there, watching him sadly. You've become his shadow, he talks to you when he's alone. He begs you to come back. He apologizes for all the things he's done to you. He just wants you with him again.

If one day your ghost disappears he will lose it. He won't be able to go on.

#ive got myself worked up and now im crying #dol #dol whitney #whitney the bully #asks

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bsgpiece · 6 months

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How will the final months of pregnancy be and how is the crew's reacting to the baby coming soon?

Yayyy, let's slowly get back to answering questions 🥰 LONG POST SORRY

I have a few doubts myself about how it would be at the end, but here we go!

I do think everybody will be very excited for a baby in the crew! I can totally imagine they all reunited wanting to name the baby and competing over the best names (not that Nami or Sanji would pick any of them), who would become the babie's favorite uncle or aunt and things like that.

Until the third trimester they'd be only picturing the good stuff, like, what bad could a baby do?

It's so cute and fun!

As time flies and her body changes, belly getting bigger, Nami will start to have normal limitations for advanced pregnancy, and the crew will spare her from too much effort or stress.

I imagine her feeling guilty about it at first, thinking she's slowing down the crew and giving them extra work (not that anyone actually thinks something like that), and try to compensate doing a lot of extra stuff!

Of course it won't last longer, and Sanji will show her how the crew only cares about her and that it's perfectly fine she's not the same anymore. She doesn't have to be.

She's changing, they're changing. Their lives will never be the same anymore! And you know what? It couldn't be better! They couldn't be happier together and the crew knew and cherish that.

As the due date comes closer and closer, Sanji and Nami will get really anxious about some serious questions: is the sea a safe place to raise a baby? What if Nami goes into labor, is the ship a safe place for it? Should they stay the next months or even years in some island? Start new lives? Give up being pirates?

They knew the crew would support any decisions they make, but it wouldn't be easy.

I can't decide which way they'll take, but I don't think they would leave the crew. Perhaps go back to the east blue? Stay there for the first months or year? Maybe that's more likely.

At the end I believe they'll trust Chopper to help delivery the baby (and I imagine all the crew making big efforts to equip the ship with everything he'll need for that), but at the same time try to go near the coast of an ally territory in case of need.

The crew will definetely be by their side in everything, wanting to make sure the baby arrives in safety. They would never blame Sanji or Nami for changing the crew's dynamic or something like that. They'd be all genuinely happy for them.

I honestly think Sanji and Nami will eventually realize there's no safer place then being around the strongest pirate crew on Earth lmao and just trust their nakamas to protect them.

HOWEVER

I do believe this will be a breakpoint for all the other strawhats changing perspective about their lives and maybe thinking about different lifestyles they may want, settling down and having their own families. Not all of them at once, but maybe, just maybe, they'll slowly start looking for what will comes after piracy.

Here's one last sketch of Sanji and Nami waiting for their lovely daughter

Thanks if you read until here! I love everything about Sanji and Nami, sharing my ideas and headcanons like that makes me really happy. There are so much detail to talk about yet! Hope I can get to it someday.

Anyone feel free to ask me anything, I'll answer everybody, just might take a little time 💕

#sanami #sanji #sanji x nami #sannami #nami #nami x sanji #one piece #headcanon #straw hat pirates #strawhats

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punkpandapatrixk · 8 months

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The Kind of Sad You Can’t Understand

Certain days I feel very deeply that I want to cry but I don’t know why.

For such a long time I lived with this kind of mood without being able to express it anywhere, not to anyone. I was struggling for my sanity; I was constantly thinking of destroying myself; and I was hoping someone would see me, and rush to save me. But nobody ever saw that of me.

I was a badass. I was a cool girl. I seemed to everybody else a smart, talented, expensive girl who's got all her shit together. Even on days she wasn't all that together, she had an enviable life anyway. I appeared on the outside too glamorous for anybody to even imagine that on the inside I was rotting. I was this close to being dead, all the time.

Who in their simple-mindedness would've thought a girl like that could be so macabre all the time? And that’s how I experienced an entire life witnessing people’s lack of empathy. I guess my point of view was fragmented but that was how life was for me anyway. Ironically, some intuitive peeps who were able to see the macabre in me thought I was frightening more than anything HAHAHAH That was all the same in the end. Enough with the gossips. I don’t know what normal people expect from everybody else they meet, to be honest. I don’t know what I’d expected from them either.

I guess it’s because the society I grew up in was like that that I couldn’t bring myself to show anybody my distress. Trauma. Mental illness. Disordered personality. All of that was nothing but insanity. And insane people don’t belong in society.

So simple. Yet so cruel.

Thank you, Jesus. Mother Mary. Catholic Church. Thanks for all the rejection. I’m SO happy now!

That’s fucking twisted.

In a society brimming with nothing but pretenders, we meet and chit and chat and act like all of our troubles are manageable to say the least. ‘Yeah, it’s not that bad, to be honest.' But it was; you've just got to pose real strong otherwise people think you're a loser. 'I guess I’m OK.’ But you weren't; you've just got to really make it sound like you're still keeping it together. 'I'll be just fine.' But you wouldn't know; you didn't even know if you'd still wanna be alive tomorrow.

In the midst of all those meaningless exchanges, I hated quite nothing more than to hear, especially from men, how strong I was as a woman. I hated it like I'd never hated anything in my life.

It was suffocating to be seen as holding it together when you were literally breaking at the seams...

I wanted someone to be able to notice I was screaming on the inside. That I was gasping for air every second I was sitting there listening to their trivial chitter chatter. Who cares about your silly drama? Would you care for mine if you knew my life was on the line? And I hated those expectant eyes. All of them. Were they expecting me to share in their self-made woes and console them in the end? HAH. Go to hell, losers.

I always thought, none of MY problems were created by my own reckless behaviours that would've obviously hurt myself or others. Not in the beginning, at least. Unlike some idiots, I was never into drugs, one night stands, or even smoking; I never caused anybody any trouble. So why did everybody cause me trouble when all I wanted was just a peaceful, normal life? Shit, what even was my IDEA of a normal life? I can't remember now.

Certain days I feel very deeply that I want to cry but I don’t know why. There's always not enough reason to do so now. Haah... If it weren't for my abundance of Aquarius, which makes me incredibly lazy and antisocial, I'd have paraded around town and rallied to become a Neo Hitler and kill everybody in this rotten world. I hated this world so much.

The first ever PAC I put out here was ‘What’s Your Crazy?’ What ever was my reason for writing that? I was crazy and I needed some explanation.

I used to look like the girl in the third pic before I chopped all of my hair off everyone began to suspect I was gay. I wasn’t gay; I was depressed. Those unassuming idiots.

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pinkandpurple360 · 4 months

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I just wanted to say THANK YOU for being one of the few people who are normal about Blitzø! Everybody either overly demonises him or infantilises him and it’s so annoying.

Most of the Stolitz crowd either twists every mistake Stolas makes to somehow be Blitzø’s fault or they act like Blitzø is just a sad uwu boy that can’t accept Stolas’ love because he’s too insecure to see how Stolas really feels about him.

And a lot of the VivziePop critical crowd overly focuses on Blitzø’s flaws and mistakes, which is fair (I admit Blitzø has done some fucked up shit and I like seeing the show hold him accountable for it), but sometimes it seems like people give the worst possible interpretation of him and miss the nuance of his character.

It’s frustrating too because there are good criticisms you can have about Blitzø, but the annoying part is that most of that good critique of him lies in his relationships with people who AREN’T Stolas (M&M, Loona, Fizz, Verosika) and yet Blitz gets dragged through the mud by the show, fans and critics alike for his treatment of STOLAS of all people?? I’m a huge fan of Blitzø and I CRAVE good criticisms of him and I wish the show would actually focus on developing its main character.

Not sure if this is makes sense (I’m sick rn and my brain is not fully functioning lol) but I wanted to thank you for your posts!

No problem at all!! After seeing him with Loona and Fizz my opinions have changed a lot and I realise I’ve been too hard on him myself

Honestly stolas just isn’t a fair look at who blitz is. Can you really blame him for wanting out of a forced relationship. Six episodes this was non consensual and an unhealthy sh blitz was clinging to out of loneliness, suddenly becoming romanticised in season two. Stolas is a client at best, and at most an investor who gets far too involved and far too clingy and creepy.

The people who absolutely obliterate blitz for crimes such as not….liking a cigarette being put out on his head…or choosing his daughters healthcare over saving stolas, when he didn’t feel in danger at first. They’re just trying to convince themselves stolas isn’t a bad person, and are trying to force a ship, even if it destroys a character, a show, an entire cast of characters even.

The real time to go into blitzø is with IMP, fizz, verosika, other imps, hellhounds (who he actually treats as equals unlike a lot of other imps like even Millie). His hero complex is arguably his kindest trait that people admire him for, but also a big flaw when they start to feel indebted, or when they don’t want his rescue, like Loona wanting to have her own life once she turned 18, and Barbie wanting to keep her one good job.

Barbies scene was brief but it told us a lot. first off, how both twins prefer to be the boss with underlings of their own, possibly having a competitive rivalry. She does speak to him at first, and gives him a chance when he says how worried he is, explaining that she has honest work, that she’s fine, but needs to get away from her clingy brother. but Blitz keeps poking holes in the job, and just lets Moxxie try to kill the target, sabotaging Barbies job and that’s what makes her so mad. I have a feeling she actually doesn’t blame him for the fire, but it still really traumatised that they were ok for some time, but he kept doing shit like this. He possibly just abandoned the old showbiz job and got labelled a deadbeat. Then he kept visiting constantly, maybe every time he got upset, like he does with Loona.

#helluva boss critical

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lesbianballofgender · 6 months

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Okay but in all seriousness the writing of season two is perfect to portray exactly who Ed and Stede are and who they’ve always been. If David Jenkins had said “fuck it” and given them a happy ending right away it would’ve been magic, but so false. Stede and Ed aren’t perfect like that so a perfect and easy ending isn’t correct for them.

They’re going through another break up over the pettiest of shit (I mean a fish for fuck sake) but that’s exactly what Stede and Ed would do. Because we all know it’s not actually about a fish. As Ed was running away he said ‘fishermen and pirates are nothing alike’ which just surfaces a whole bunch of new things they need to talk through. Because in that scenario Stede is the pirate and Ed is the fisherman, a complete 180 to season one’s dilema where Ed’s the pirate and Stede an Aristocrat. Stede knows it’s not the real reason he’s leaving because he even yells ‘it’s not about that’ to which Ed yells back ‘it’s everything about that! It’s everything about fishing!’ yet there’s no reason it would be. Ed is making up an excuse because he’s afraid. He kept repeating how he wanted to take things slow yet (like he mentions) everything has been doing the exact opposite. They had sex but I don’t just mean that. Stede also was very close to confessing his love for him, which to Edward I’m sure would be a huge deal as no one has probably ever loved him truly and purely before in that way. And I’m not being funny but especially a man. Ed killed his own Father and as far as we know the only person to have loved him (besides like ig Izzy) is his Mother. So it may be difficult for him to accept love especially from another man because he never received it growing up. The entire episode ‘man on fire’ also highlights exactly how truly whim-prone Ed and especially Stede are. It doesn’t take much for Stede to get swept away by praises from his fans, enough so he even gets his ear pierced. And Ed deciding to become a fisherman from catching one fish is really… the best example.

Even in ‘Calypso’s birthday’ when Ned calls Stede Ed’s ‘pet’ it brings about these doubts Stede could have about Ed’s true feelings for him that, paired with ‘Man on fire’, is fucking incredible. Because right after Stede has been told that his boyfriend only likes him because ‘of his bumbling amateur status’ he changes completely, kills two men (Ned and the man on fire), has gay sex for the first time, gets his ear pierced and a bunch of people start to get tattoos of him on their bodies. These doubts need resolving though but instead of talking it out, of course his initial response is to bottle it/have sex… though it isn’t like he was given much of a chance to bring it up to talk about it because Ed ran away (a response that is so fucking accurate to both of them as characters).

I’d just like to point out that I love the detail of Stede always preaching for everybody to ‘talk it through as a crew’ yet I swear he has never practised what he preaches. This man running away back to Mary instead of talking his feeling out but telling the crew to share their thoughts is one of the most realistic thing about his character.

No one can say this show has bad writing. The inevitable conflict was hinted at so many times throughout the season. Ed and Stede could’ve never stayed happy as soon as they met up in ‘Fun and games’ because Stede still hadn’t met his goal of being a known pirate (his whole goal from season one) plus he literally ran away from having a normal life so of course he wasn’t going to give up the seas quite yet while Ed has been so clearly saying he’s done with pirating for a long time. The entire persona of ‘Jeff’ is the only evidence we need. He wants a normal life, not as Blackbeard but as ‘Edward Teach born on a beach’ or as ‘Jeff’ - the innkeeper or accountant. It’s impossible not to pick up on this. Even the line ‘you wear fine things well’ is just this idea incarnate. They both say it to each other on severed occasions, it being a complement showing their adoration for one another. When Ed tells Stede those words it’s a comedic moment because he’s relaying Stede’s words, it’s sweet because they kiss and it’s such an obvious thing to say because Stede is (as he put it in ‘a gentleman pirate’) landed gentry so of course it suits him. Yet when Ed’s being told he looks good in nice things it’s the best thing someone has ever told him, because Stede looks past him being a pirate and a murderer and says “hey, that suits you”. No one has ever seen him as someone worth anything more so he feels seen more then he ever has before. That one line is so powerful and that’s probably why it’s repeated in season 2; because it feels like proof they will end up back together again.

They don’t understand their own feelings half the time, they’re whim-prone and they’re very good at running away, however they see one another for who they are and so far have always found their way back to each other.

#ofmd #ofmd season 2 #our flag means death #pirates #lgbtq #i love this show #I love these stupid gay pirates #gay #thought dump #stede bonnet #edward teach #ed x stede #ofmd spoiler #stede fucking bonnet #man on fire #David Jenkins

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viviennelamb · 1 day

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I got through 1/4 of your book today and I'm loving it so far! I liked the little bit you wrote about "romantics" because that's something I was thinking about yesterday, how much of a role they play in keeping people attached to delusion. Tumblr is filled with these "romantic" types who boast how passionate they are about art, love, nature, etc, but to them art is sex, love is sex, nature is sex, everything is sex. All they know how to do is write pretty words about disgusting things.

Pleased to hear that you like it!! 🥺

Art, love and nature can only be fully appreciated and recognized, by a sober mind. A destroyed nervous system/body cannot correctly perceive what is happening around them. This is why it’s important to not listen to their opinions until they’re at least humble and seek true health. Too bad this usually happens when the sex-addict is on their death bed.

Billie Eilish is a perfect example of a recent Romantic outburst. I didn’t look to deeply into it because I’m genuinely disgusted, but the lack of self-awareness is evident. The primary job of people who sign their lives away is to promote sex to the Human Farm. That's why executives tell them what they can and can't create and why artists need to give up their rights to their original work. Anybody who doesn't promote sex is blacklisted and fades into obscurity.

People want to talk about self-righteousness and narcissism, but there's nothing more self-aggrandizing than expecting somebody to put their mouth on one's own genitals. I can’t even imagine the superiority complex somebody has to have to engage in sex, but it’s almost everybody. It’s all very man-conscious.

Fornicators talk about "romanticizing their life" when that's normal for people who live in reality. Nothing from a sex lover is real. They have nothing of value to offer ever and they're extremely fickle which is why they brag about the transient orgasm. They ridicule others for not being able to "last long" when their sanity doesn’t last long either.

Once an individual stops having sex with their partner, the feigned connection will be revealed for what it is, showing that their relationship was completely sex-dependent. The sex-addict will either become resentful, cheat or leave. Enduring love is very rare during these times.

#ask

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ystrike1 · 10 months

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The Archduke's Gorgeous Wedding Was a Fraud - By 은려원 (8/10)

A gradual slow burn yandere and a slavishly devoted stalker are bitter enemies in this story. Their rivalry grows deeper when they fall for the same woman. This is an otome isekai. It would have been a solid 9 if it wasn't, but it is still above average.

She is a painter with magic. Her paintings can take shape and come to life. That's a cool power, but having a special ability can suck. She shows up as a slave in the beginning, because assholes love to collect rare things.

In the original story "Shay" was a dumb stalker who was only interested in drooling over Archduke Lucien. He goes yandere for Shay later....after her body is randomly possessed by a Modern Korean Woman with No Flaws.

(Sigh)

The otome isekai part is needlessly complicated and annoying, but yeah.

It's there.

In the beginning we think Shay was a total loser with no friends who died unloved. Now, in her second new life she is a slave who gets bought by Lucien.

Lucien needs a beautiful, magic wife.

He doesn't want to get married, so he buys Shay to use her as a shield. It's actually a really cruel plan. He's tired of dealing with suitors. He knows Shay will get attacked but that's not his problem.

Poor Shay.

She spends a whole chapter gushing about her new pretty face.

She acts sassy and then it all becomes clear.

Lucien isn't mean.

It was love at first sight and he doesn’t know.

He dropped big money to make sure nobody would buy her.

He thought her anger and pain on stage was beautiful. He talks about using her but yeah...no...

Lucien proposes when he figures out that Shay is not affected by his latent magic. He has the blood of the Sun God. It makes him sexually irresistible. Women are creepy around him. Predatory. They steal his hair and they constantly try to break into his home etc.

He's strong.

That's the only reason why he isn't a concubine in a harem somewhere...

Shay says yes.

Her name is changed to Titania permanently....

...

Seriously why is this an otome isekai?

She agrees to marry him and protect him with her magic.

They become a good team.

Lucien really likes having normal conversation with somebody who isn't trying to take his pants off.

There's a horny princess who wears suits.

Kind of yandere...but not she only cares about collecting and controlling beautiful people...actually she's kinda boring moving on.

The other yandere is Kun. He knew Shay. He loved her BEFORE Shay became Titania. (Hence his yandere behavior feels less...legit)

This sucks.

Imagine with me here.

Story opens.

Shay is an idiot stalker who gets sold off as a slave because everybody hates her. Lucien comes to save her because he knows she isn't affected by his magic. She's just regular crazy obsessed. He tells her to please chill in exchange for cash and she agrees because she's been reduced to a slave. She needs money/the fake marriage to live another day. Shay cruelly leaves Kun behind because she is finally with the man she likes, and he pines over her. He did bad stuff and crimes for her, and she is all he has in this life. Blah blah blah Shay learns to like Lucien as a person, not an object, when they get closer. She realizes that letting Kun fawn over her is bad for his mental health. She apologizes and helps him get a hobby maybe and plot twist Lucien is also a yandere. He's worse than Kun ever was, but he hides it for the sake of her smile. Real marriage. End. Everybody in the trio becomes a better, more well-adjusted human being.

But nope otome isekai I guess.

Kun's intro is good.

He bested Lucien in combat before.

Both men see each other as a real threat. Lucien can't just snort and kick him out.

Titania has no clue who he is...but Kun says nothing but yandere shit about his love for Shay.

Something happened to make him so obsessed, but the author probably won't explain because...say it with me...

Otome isekai...

Lucien gradually becomes more jealous.

His thoughts get more unhinged too, and it's fun.

He's a doting yandere, and he doesn’t know it yet. He designs a fine painting room for Titania. He hates it when mere servants gawk at her beauty, and the sight of Kun makes him go quiet with rage.

He's good.

I really, really like the contrast. These two yanderes are not the same. They have their own charm points. Too bad about the otome isekai plot holes though.

#The Archduke's Gorgeous Wedding Was a Fraud #yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #webtoon #otome isekai #otome games #otome

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ravenalla · 1 year

Note

I so agree with your statement about Season 3… I didn’t even finished it, it was too much. And the shippers here didn’t help either lmao. My boy needs no woman and certainly not an ex death watch.

He was doing fine till now, they made him look like a damsel in distress so SHE can save him, she can be a goddamn good girl… Like her past is erased from everyone minds? They have amnesia? And he became a second character in his own show?? Yup, no, call me when everything became normal again

I know it’s not technically canon yet but it reminds me a lot of when a character’s entire purpose is just to support their partner in a ship. Also people can ship what they want of course but in what way has anything between them been explicitly romantic in canon? They’ve just been working together on missions and barely talking about anything besides the matter at hand. I saw more desire for a relationship between Boba and Din than this. If they decide to suddenly say Bo and Din had feelings for each other the whole time in the two episodes we have left I’ll be so mad. Omera was Din’s obvious love interest if they were going to give him one, but no lets put him with the white terrorist lady who insulted his and others entire existence.

Also people forget that Din isn’t stupid. The fandom likes to make himbo jokes sure but Din is incredibly smart, he spent however many years working as a top rated bounty hunter, one of the most dangerous jobs in the galaxy, Din got beaten up all the time but he also had so many wins and badass moments, they balanced each other out so he wasn’t invincible but he wasn’t incompetent either. Most of Din this season is just him needing to be saved or aided by Bo-Katan so far, because apparently SHE is the Mandalorian everybody suddenly needs to use their brains or they’ll combust into flames or something I guess 🙄 and spoiler warning for the next episode under the cut.

So leaks say that Din gets captured by Moff Gideon at the end of the episode and Bo has to rally Mandalorians to go save him. Man how much more impactful would that be if Din was Manda’lor, Bo had the chance now to become it with him gone, but she actively chooses instead to help him after being bitter and aggressive towards him all season, thereby giving her growth that doesn’t actually mean turning her character back 180 out of nowhere. I like the idea of Din getting captured on its own and coming face to face with Gideon again but after he’s done literally nothing all season and has had no personality other than “help Bo”? That’s insulting af, Din just looks more and more helpless. Like again what if he was Manda’lor and trying to prove his worth both to Mandalorians and himself? We could have gotten a really cool scene where he questions his abilities as a father and as a leader, wondering if other types of Mandalorians would even come for him and ending the season with an episode about Din finally coming into his own with the darksaber while other Mandalorians rally behind him to defeat Moff Gideon once and for all.

But no. It’s probably gonna be a chance to display how Bo absolutely deserves another chance at ruling after proving nothing about how she is different from last time while Din is just there as bait and they’ll kiss or some shit afterwards. God this season has turned out so bad, I really am hoping they don’t go that route and make it somehow worse. I don’t blame people for hopping out now.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #grogu #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian season 3 #mando critical

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discar · 28 days

Text

HZD Terraforming Base-001 Text Communications Network

Chapter 12 | Prev chapter | Next chapter Chapter Index

FlameHairSavior: Hey Erend, are Oseram traveling shows common?

ForgeLordAleMaster: I DON'T KNOW IF COMMON IS THE BEST WORD. BUT, YEAH. THEY'RE DEFINITELY AROUND.

ForgeLordAleMaster: WHY?

FlameHairSavior: I met a trio delving for hologram projectors when I was retrieving POSEIDON from Vegas.

ForgeLordAleMaster: WAIT... WERE THEY A DRAMATIC GUY, A GRUMPY NUMBERS GUY, AND A CHEERFUL INVENTOR GUY?

FlameHairSavior: Yeah, you know them?

ForgeLordAleMaster: EVERYBODY KNOWS MORLUND AND HIS BUDDIES! I THREW A WRENCH AT THEM ONCE!

FlameHairSavior: ...I thought Stemmur was joking about that.

β: why would you throw a wrench at them

ForgeLordAleMaster: THAT'S HOW YOU LET THEM KNOW YOU DON'T LIKE THEIR STORY.

β: please tell me thats not normal

HIMBO: The Nora throw fruit if we don't like a story.

Zo: The Utaru just sing louder.

Marshall Kotallo: Among the Tenakth, our stories and histories are sacred. To leave in the middle of a telling is both rude and unwise.

FlameHairSavior: Really. No Tenakth ever interrupts a story.

Marshall Kotallo: Of course not.

Marshall Kotallo: ...although if you happen to spot a machine that needs to be fought, or a chore that needs to be done, then that is clearly an emergency and you can be forgiven for leaving.

ForgeLordAleMaster: SEE, THIS IS WHY THE OSERAM HAVE THE BEST STORIES. THE BAD STORIES GET WEEDED OUT QUICK.

β: survival of the fittest is not supposed to take the form of a wrench to the head

ForgeLordAleMaster: HEY, THEY DODGE!

ForgeLordAleMaster: USUALLY.

HIMBO: So Aloy, what happened to these people? You said they were looking for something?

Marhsall Kotallo: I assume you helped them find it.

Zo: Probably solved a long-standing feud in the process.

ForgeLordAleMaster: NO WAIT, I'VE GOT IT: SHE FULFILLED THEIR WILDEST DREAMS COMPLETELY ON ACCIDENT, AND BY THE TIME SHE LEFT THEY WERE CRYING TEARS OF JOY!

FlameHairSavior: …

FlameHairSavior: There was no crying.

HIMBO: Erend just fell out of his chair laughing.

β: i can hear him from down here

ForgeLordAleMaster: YOU REALLY CAN'T GO ANYWHERE WITHOUT FIXING EVERYTHING, CAN YOU?

FlameHairSavior: In my defense, this situation was much less complicated than the Tenakth, so it really wasn't that impressive. I basically just swam around a little.

ForgeLordAleMaster: UH-HUH. THE IMPORTANT PART IS THAT VARL OWES ME MONEY.

FlameHairSavior: Did you bet on whether I'd find POSEIDON?

ForgeLordAleMaster: NO, WE BET YOU'D BECOME THE SAVIOR OF YET ANOTHER CITY OR CULTURE.

HIMBO: I really don't think three people count as a culture.

ForgeLordAleMaster: SURE. ALOY, WHAT ARE THE THREE IDIOTS DOING NOW? HEADING BACK TO THE CLAIM?

FlameHairSavior: No, they're staying in Vegas. They want to, um.

FlameHairSavior: Revive the city and its culture. They were really inspired by what happened when the system rebooted.

ForgeLordAleMaster: HA!

HIMBO: Fine. I admit defeat. Take your money.

ForgeLordAleMaster: OW. RUDE.

HIMBO: You were supposed to catch it with your hand, not your face.

ForgeLordAleMaster: I WOULDN'T HAVE BET SO MUCH IF I HAD KNOWN YOU WERE GOING TO THROW IT AT ME.

HIMBO: Good to know.

ForgeLordAleMaster: WHAT? OH, DAMMIT.

β: maybe you two can go down to vegas and spend all of it

ForgeLordAleMaster: ARE YOU TRYING TO GET RID OF US?

β: yes youre loud

ForgeLordAleMaster: YOU REALLY NEED THAT ALE.

Chapter 12 | Prev chapter | Next chapter Chapter Index

#horizon #horizon zero dawn #horizon forbidden west #zo #aloy #varl #erend vanguardsman #kotallo #beta horizon #HZDBaseChat

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comecloserwouldyou · 1 year

Text

The End of the “Human Exchange program” Pt.1

🔜Part 1.5

(‼️keep in mind this is only an au‼️)

(‼️‼️Everybody × reader (angst) ‼️‼️) Everybody knew this would happen. Everybody knew the end of this human exchange program is was near. Of course it was near. It was inevitable after all. But what the didn’t know was it would end this fast. The end of the “Human exchange program” was here and now it was time for the human exchange to go back. Here are some background (inner) thoughts and feelings.

Lucifer:

It feels like a dream. The poor guy can’t get a break. He feels like it’s his duty to….subtly…..hold everybody together. Top all of that off with the fact he’s overworking himself to keep his mind off of you. Bad situation. His sleep schedule has once more declined, to a point that it’s even worse than it was before you left. He constantly sees, hears and related everything to you. He has always been hyper vigilant of everything and everybody in the house. It made him feel like he could be in control and protect everybody, and you were no exception to the rules (well you almost always were but he digresses). “MC…no…come back. I’m so sorry for everything. Please come back. You’re the only one I can love and trust. My pride is nothing when you’re around. You are my walking pride, my love. Please come back…come home.”

Mammon:

He’s absolutely stopped in his tracks. He can’t even comprehend that you’re gone, and when he finally does it’s not pretty. Lots and lots of tears. The house is going to be barren for Kleenexes for a while. He goes out almost everyday and gambles away what little does he have, but he doesn’t care. It’s something to do outside the torture of the House of Lamentation. He also has a habit of getting himself drunk, and subsequently getting himself yelled at by lucifer. His only comeback was the he couldn’t handle the loss, and surprisingly lucifer put a blanket around his shoulder and gently told him to go and sober up. “Nonononononono! Stay! There’s no need for you to go home! Isn’t this your home too? Don’tcha wanna stay? We had so much fun! We can continue to have fun! Just…p-please… don’t a-abandon me like everyone e-else.”

Leviathan:

Levi’s first reaction is to lock himself up in his room and go into full denial. Eventually, he lets the cold exterior melt off and his true colours become fully transparent. Much like his brothers, he submerges himself in his activities: video games, comic cons updates and other otaku related things. He doesn’t leave his room for days on end, and when he does it’s only for food and water. He’s jealous of every human who even gets to see your beautiful face in the human realm, but his biggest regret is never going out and doing anything with you. Even his precious Ruri-chan can’t do anything to ease his heartache. “I-I don’t care. Y-you’re just a n-normie. It d-doesn’t m-matter. I have p-plenty of friends o-online. I-I don’t n-need y-you. I- I….need you. Please! Please! C-come h-home! I-I still don’t k-know so m-much about you. I-I should have been l-less selfish. I should have t-tried to g-get to know y-you b-better.”

Satan:

(Goes into bedroom and throws a major tantrum.) Basically, this guy lost his anger translator and when that happens…bad things happen. Once more lucifer finds him on the receiving end of pranks, but not normal pranks. His pranks become harsher, his anger showing through them. He has also raided the bookstore more times than beel raided the fridge last year. Which is definitely an impressive feat in and of itself. You’ll find that his precious book pages are covered in tear drop stains. You taught him to love, to be truly calm and so much more. Please, bring back the anger translator for everybody’s sakes. “Come back please? You’re the eye of the hurricane. The calm. Please…come back. Please? We can do anything you want. Anything! I’ll never deny you another walk. We can go whenever you want! Just please, come back.” Asmodeus:

Sad. Break. Up. Songs. So what if the boy didn’t break up with her, same general gist. Girl leaves boy, boy can’t see girl and ta-da it feels like a break-up has occurred. The boy doesn’t party. He doesn’t do his skin routine (which absolutely no one can tell), and acts like an insomniac (fully evident in his overly sassy behaviour). Basically, not like the Asmodeus everybody knows. He wishes you could come back so he would have his spa, manicure and pedicure buddy back. “Mc you made me feel beautiful, inside and out. Come back. I promise, I’ll always tell you how beautiful you are. You are the most gorgeous being alive, even more than myself. Please…come back…. I’ll treat you like a princess. I p-promise.”

Beelzebub:

Poor baby boy isn’t hungry. He doesn’t eat, except when forced. His work out routine has sky rocketed from an hour and a half to over three hours. If he’s not working out then he’s either crying, laying with Belphie to feel some semblance of peace, or at sports practice. Most of all, he misses your sweetness. You always could work out any situation, and even better you kept the peace and happiness of the house alive. “Please Mc, come home. Come back to your family. We…I need you. We can hang out just like the good old days. Get food, snuggle with Belphie, fall asleep watching movies and more. Whatever you want, just name it. Just…come home to us, to me.”

Belphegor:

He honestly wonders if he kills everybody that you know up there if you’ll come back to them. Just a thought. (Might want to text beel a thank you for saving your family’s lives.) He is very annoyed and confrontational about everything and everybody, except beel. He wants to sleep to escape, but then he dreams about you. Then he wants to stay awake, but he’s just so tired and things, places and certain things remind him of you. Basically, he’s losing his precious sleep because of you, but he isn’t annoyed at you. He’s just lonesome for you. “Mmmm…..Oh, it was just a dream. Mc isn’t really here. Please come back. You would scold me for being so harsh, heh. Please come back…..starlight.”

(‼️ there is a part 1.5 for dateables‼️)

(Yes, this shits gonna be a series 🤡)

Kay, bye! ( took me a week to do this nah- 🤨📸⁉️)

#Obey me #Obey me lucifer #Obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #Obey me Satan #Obey me Asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me mc #obey me angst #obey me also actually hurts my hand #Took me a week #lmfao #this so cringe #Why am I doing this #so many tags

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