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doberbutts · 3 months

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Thank you for making the schindler post, it perfectly illustrates why I hate the way people will act like people who hurt others (like active nazis and racists) aren't capable of regular emotion and thought. Second chances are often seen as bad when it comes to violence and crime, but if you never give someone the chance to change, form different opinions, or see the damage they or their associates have caused, they'll just keep taking the path of least resistance, keep following orders. I just want people to take a serious look at a nazi who changed his mind. There is nothing inherently evil about anyone, there are only moral and immoral choices.

It helps, I think, to understand that he did not join the nazi party because he hated Jews. Even what research I did on the real man said that for the most part his reasons for siding with Hitler were purely economical. And, as I've said before, Hitler did not start with "I hate Jews let's kill them all" but with "look how bad the economy sucks! And who is doing well while the economy sucks? The Jews. That means they're the ones behind making the economy suck!" to get people on his side.

I think Schindler did have some internalized antisemitism. How could he not? He thought of the plan to use almost exclusively Jewish slave labor as good business sense. Cheaper than Poles, more desperate for the work and thus less likely to complain about conditions or quit, can't fuss about wanting wages or better hours, what's not to like? Supposedly his workers were treated well. I don't know if that makes it particularly better. I wonder how his workers felt, staring at the emblem proudly pinned to his jacket, knowing it stood for the extermination of their entire people.

I wonder if any of them ever considered it might be a trick. An elaborate long game to get them to trust and slip up. To get them to reveal the hiding places and secret messages and the others striving to find or make a way out.

I think the movie played with that concept a little bit, when the character of Stern (who apparently was 3 different real guys rolled into 1) is portrayed as always being a little standoffish and cold to Schindler until close to the very end. He was afraid of him. Schindler held not only his life but the lives of all of the people working there (plus more, irl) in his hands. He rubbed shoulders with high ranked officials and knew personally more than one known sadistic bastard that actively got off on murdering Jews. All it would take is a single word and it would be more than just those in the factory who died.

But then the ghetto was cleansed. In history, Schindler had advance warning and made his workers lock themselves in the factory overnight to spare them. In the movie, Schindler did not have warning, and saw the chaos from atop a vantage point as he'd meant to pass by.

Either way, both in life and in film, that was the line. He was, at minimum, willfully blind and passive to the evidence of what was happening up to that point. Once he couldn't deny it, he put his foot down and said, no more. I'm not doing this. I can't save everybody but you aren't getting your hands on anyone in my charge. Put me in jail if you have to. This is wrong.

He had everything to gain by continuing to look away. In the movie, Stern says something to the tune of "you'll have to hire Hungarians and Poles. They cost a little more but you'll still be rich" when they're both faced with Hitler's final solution. No more cheap Jewish labor when they're all dead, after all. It is at that point that they come up with the list- to get as many Jews as possible out of Germany before they're all sent to their deaths. He could have just said "yeah, sorry. I tried". Stern even more or less gave him permission to do so, like he was expecting it.

But he didn't. He said no fuck that, it's bullshit. It's not happening. I'm not letting it happen. They can arrest me or kill me if they want but if I'm alive for it I'm not just going to stand back and watch.

But I think it is difficult for people to grapple with that level of complexity. Not everyone he saved thinks he was overall a good person. His motives were not always pure. In fact many times his motives were just about lining his own pockets. But when he saw atrocities happen, he put his foot down and refused to participate. Even at his own cost- he had the equivalent amount of money back then as would be needed to retire early nowadays from his factory labor. He spent it on bribes and rations to keep them safe. He went to jail several times for refusing to back down. He risked his own neck by networking with other factory owners to get them to do the same. He could have been executed for this at any point. Nazis loved public spectacle executions for traitors and for collusion with Jews.

He wasn't a perfect ally. But I think I'd rather an imperfect ally do whatever they can to help, than no allies at all.

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hannigramislife · 6 months

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I just encountered a person comparing Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli, saying how Jiang Cheng got his parents' worst attributes and Jiang Yanli got the best, and after a whole lot of bullshit I'm not gonna repeat, another really tried to erase Jiang Cheng's sacrifice by saying he didn't distract the Wens in the book, but lost his golden core for revenge.

I think this has been a little eye-opening for me, as to why people hate Jiang Cheng and why they can't stand to see the good in him.

Because to see the good in him, is to acknowledge that he is not the man they make him out to be, which, obvious so far. But to really see the good in him, is also to see the hurt in him. To see the suffering that their image of "cold, cruel jc" can't allow.

And to see the suffering means to acknowledge the ways his family - all of his family - failed him.

His father failed him completely, and I don't even have to elaborate. His mother failed him by always putting him on the spot, straining his relationship with his brother, not supporting him in learning for the sake of the leader he was going to be, but out of spite to her husband. Wei Wuxian failed him post-war, because he pulled away from Jiang Cheng completely, causing the chain of events to lead to what it did.

This is not taking into account the emotional toll and influence that Wei Wuxian's presence had his entire life, since they met, because most of that wasn't on Wei Wuxian, but only the fact that Jiang Cheng was given the tall order to rebuild Lotus Pier and take care of his sect, and Wei Wuxian made that all the much harder, and then he left of course.

Jiang Yanli also failed him, and this might be controversial, but this is my opinion as an older sibling myself. The fact that we don't have a single scene where she's offering him support exclusively, without Wei Wuxian in the picture, can be attributed (maybe) to the fact that the story is from Wei Wuxian's pov, but I still think that Jiang Yanli was wrong to go to that battlefield, defenseless, because what happened? She died in Jiang Cheng's arms, leaving him with the added trauma, as well as an infant child to care for.

I realize this is all from a particular point of view, and not taking into account the reasons others did what they did. I know they have their reasons. And they are always allowed those reasons, they justify their actions.

Why isn't Jiang Cheng, who was the youngest of the Jiang family, a boy who had to become a man so his people could rely on him, a boy so traumatized by what happened, what he witnessed, what he went through—

Why is he not allowed his reasons? His grief? Why was he not allowed ignorance?

#the untamed #mdzs #jiang cheng #mo dao zu shi #will defend jiang cheng #to god

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panickingpansexuality · 1 year

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I'm Right Here

Yandere Elliott finding out your pregnant

Elliott x FEM bodied reader

This is based on a scene in the game after you divorce Elliott. Mentions of depression and an attempted suicide.

Shit. Shit. SHIT.

You looked at the pregnancy test on the sink, the two little lines indicating a whole new world of bullshit. Five months ago you and Elliott had gotten divorced, his obsessive behavior finally becoming too much for you but now...now what you wouldn't give to have him here at least to comfort you.

Three months ago you and him were at the Saloon and you both had one too many drinks and one thing led to another and in the morning you had a familiar ache between your legs and enough energy to run out of his cabin without looking back.

Looking at one of the tests you put one in your pocket and take a deep breath, he's got to know. You have to tell him, you have to tell him a lot of things.

You go outside in the pouring rain, the flag to your letterbox is up, you open it and see a letter from Elliott asking you to come to the beach.

You feel sick to your stomach, so many horrible possibilities run through your brain. You two haven't spoken since that night and you've heard from Leah that he wasn't doing so great, her and Willy keeping an extra sharp eye on him. It made your stomach churn, fear that you'd miss your chance to tell him.

Shoving the thoughts down you decide what must be done, you turn towards your house to grab a jacket finding it locked. You curse, Elliott most likely still has his key. Hopefully you can catch him on time.

By the time you make it to the beach, Elliott's standing in the dock, he looks weakened like he hasn't been taking care of himself, the bags under his eyes are deep and prominent, the he looks thinned out, his muscles looked weak, even his hair looked greasy.

"Elliott?" You call out coming closer to him, you're shivering and when he turns to you he notices.

"What are you doing without a coat?!" Elliott says rushing to meet you in the middle of the dock, he throws off his jacket and puts it in you.

"I locked myself out.." you admit shamefully.

Elliott sighs and pulls out his house key from a chain around his neck, with it his wedding ring.

You don't want him to take it off, it physically pains you to see the chain come off and fall into your hand.

The cold metal of your ring presses against your chest and reminds you that you two are more alike than you think.

"Why did you want to meet here?" You ask clutching the necklace tightly.

Elliott's quiet for a moment, then he walks towards the edge of the dock and speaks:

"Remember the last time we were out at sea? I spent a long time thinking about it after finishing my novel..."

You did, you remembered the entire moment like it just happened and you loved every moment of it.

"I always knew things wouldn't end well between us and deep down I always knew I'd never see the day I'd grow old."

Cold fills your veins, dread fills your heart. You reach forward and hesitate to grab his hand, to pull him off the dock and into his home.

"As it turns out not only are the unsuccessful but the unfortunate are afraid of death.."

"Elliott.." you say.

He turns and smiles at you, he lets out a small chuckle and says;

"Don't worry I'm not going to die I'll probably come back as a fish or something.."

Without thinking you throw yourself at his back wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms over his chest, he stumbled backwards.

"WILLY!" You scream out, hoping that he hears you.

"(y/n)!" Elliott almost yells at you. "Let me go!"

"No!" You scream out. "WILLY GET THE FUCK OUT HERE!"

Thunder roars and Elliott moves swings you around trying to get you off of him.

"If you go, you're going to take the two of us with you!"

Elliott pauses, your weight is doing more to him than you think, without thinking he reaches behind him and presses a hand to your unusually firm stomach.

You're starting to cry the rain thankfully mixing your tears. Finally the door to Willy's place opens and he sees you two.

"HELP ME GET HIM OFF THE DOCK!" You yell.

Willy understands what's happening immediately, and rush to help you. You hop off his back and Willy helps you take Elliott back to his house. He doesn't fight you two.

You three enter and Elliott goes on his bed and sits there unable to look at either of you.

"Keep him inside." Willy says, "I'll go get Harvey."

You nod and sit with him.

For a moment the only sound you two hear is the rain hitting the ceiling, the smell of the rain and sea mixing together in the house.

"You didn't mean Willy up there." Elliott says softly.

"No.." you say, "I didn't.."

"Are you pregnant?" He asks looking over at you, his eyes are red and he looks so broken.

You nod and start to tear up. For a moment he's quiet, and then he looks over and with humor in his voice he asks;

"Is it mine?"

You grab his pillow and make a swing at him, he smiles and puts a hand up to deflect the hit.

"Asshole!" You grunt out, Elliott grabs the pillow and you two struggle with it before the both of you are hanging onto it tightly, you're glaring at him but he's got happy tears going down his face.

"I know I'm just joking."

You let go of the pillow and he puts it beside him.

"I'm keeping it." You state, "I know you don't want to stay but...but if you did and if you wanted to know them..you're more than welcome to."

"I'm gonna be a dad." He breathes out.

"Ellie..." You say, "You can't try and leave like that again..please I can't..I can't- they won't understand and I'd..I'd miss you too much."

"You'd miss me?" He scoffs.

"I wasnt that drunk." You say the tears come easily.

"I miss you, I know how you can get but if we can work together on it so you don't keep me in bed rest just because you're jealous..."

Elliott winced, he isn't proud of his past actions.

"Then I'd welcome you back.."

"Ok." Elliott states, "I'll work on it, I'll get better and I won't leave you, I don't think I'd have it in me after..this."

You press the hand that still holds the necklace and press it back into his hand. Wordlessly he unclips the necklace and puts his ring back on his finger.

"I'll get you a new one." He promises.

"No need." You say pulling your necklace out and unclip it and put your ring back on your ring finger.

Once you're finished you notice Elliott's watching you, for how long you don't know. You stare at each other for a moment before he leans forward and kisses you. You pull yourself more on the bed, Elliott presses himself against you like you're air, like he's trying to make sure you know how much he loves you. His hand goes on your stomach and he breaks for air, his head going into your shoulder. You feel his entire body start to shake and his small cry goes to a sob.

You hang onto him tightly, as his cries continue to grow.

"I'm sorry." He sobs out, "(y/n) I'm so sorry, for everything. I love you. I swear I do I'll get better for you, for us, I swear."

The door opens and Harvey and Willy walk back in.

Elliott and Harvey talk for a long time, Willy stands at the door and you sit beside Elliott holding his hand.

At the end of it, Harvey says he's going to call a friend in the city for Elliott but tonight he shouldn't be alone.

"He can stay with me." Willy states, "Or if (y/n) wishes to keep an eye on 'im."

"I'll go with them." Elliott says, "They locked themselves out and I still have my key.."

Harvey nods and looks over at you for reassurance which you give in the form of a nod.

Once you and Elliott reach your place and he unlocks the door you're both soaking wet.

"I'll go get some spare clothes." You tell him, "I still have some of yours.."

When you come back into the living room Elliott's taken off most of his clothes and set the wet ones in the dryer.

You've seen him naked before, you've seen him fully clothed, but you can never prepare yourself the sight for how beautiful he is to you.

You wish the storm had taken out the power because you're blushing so incredibly hard at the sight of him.

Elliott gives you a soft smile at the notice of your expression. He walks forward and kisses your forehead before taking his clothes into the bathroom.

A few minutes later you're changed and both of your clothes are in the dryer, Elliott comes out holding one of the positive tests in his hand. He looks up at your with tears running down his face and asks:

"Can I frame this?"

You giggled and nod, grabbing his hand you lead him to your bed, hesitantly he puts the test on the nightstand and crawls under the covers with you.

"Are you sure?" He asks

"Yes." You say, "Are you ok with it?"

"Absolutely," Elliott says, he takes your cold hand from under the covers and presses a kiss to it. "I haven't been able to sleep since we divorced."

"You slept pretty well last time I saw you." You grunt out curling towards his chest.

"That's because I had a wonderful work out before then." He says,

You both chuckle at his response and you sneak one of your hands in his, gripping it tightly.

"I'm right here." He says, "I'm right here."

"So am I." You say, "I'm not going anywhere again."

Elliot's hand grips yours and his other sneaks around your waist.

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sadcat5544 · 2 years

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“I know you better than you think.”Jinx x General Neutral reader.

This is a rough draft. I wanted to post another post anyway and practice my writing a bit more. So this scene takes place in the long-awaited season two. Your character (along with the entire main cast) has managed to capture Jinx and have her held prisoner awaiting trial possibly being sent to death. You believe she can be changed and deep down still has feelings for you, so you do whatever it takes to save her, even if it means your own death.

You approached the jail cell, alone in the dark, wet silent dungeon. Despite Piltover having a bright and beautiful future, their prison system was still shit. The cell was dark and cold, with very little light to shine through. A figure sat in the middle of the darkness with its knees to its chest, two bloodshot pink eyes staring back at you between the bars, like a monster in the darkness.

“Come to throw peanuts at the monkey like the rest of the zookeepers?” The figure asked in a raspy voice.

“I just want to talk.”

The figure scoffed, stood up, and walked slowly over to the cell door. Blue and pink fingernails interlocked between the bars and she pressed her face against the opening, not once ever taking her eyes off of you. You stood strong with your arms by your side and your head held high. Jinx looked at you with a small malicious smirk. “How's your side holding up? Still a little sore are we?”

You subconsciously reach over to your scar. A flashback plays in your head to you backing up from a hug. After releasing her from a hug you heard a loud popping sound and stepped back. Looking down to your stomach, you see a red hole and blood began to form and pour from it. your wound.

“So you came to try and talk some “sense” into me huh?” she air quoted while chuckling softly.

“No, just to talk.”

“About?”

“Whatever you’d like..”

She tilted her head and sneered. “What if I don’t want to talk?”

You placed your hands in your pockets and walked slowly over to the cell. Despite your outside demeanor, you will always have that need for comfort. Deep down you want to believe she can change. You long for the old Jinx, the beautiful, crazy girl who taught you how to shoot and advance your mechanic skills. That was your jinx, the one you knew. You long for the jinx that you love. The person in the cell with pink eyes and a malicious smile is not her.

“I'm not going to force you to,” you look around the jail hallway. “Despite how things seem right now, I promise I'm not your enemy. I want to help you.”

A sad smile formed on her lips and her eyes took a kinder appearance. In a twisted way, she almost looked like the old Jinx. The person you love.

“Same old (Y/N), always looking out for the little people.” her small smile turned back to a smirk. “If you think I'm going to stand here and listen to your bullshit, You know Silco was right, in the end, everyone betrayed us. I'm alone.”

“I'm trying to help you, Jinx.” you pleaded.

“Really? I don't see you in a cell.” she scoffed while lazily rolling between the bars.

“I was trying to save the city, not burn it to the ground!” you retorted. She giggled while glaring at you.

“That's rich! Judging by such a good job you've done, I’d even go as far as to say that you’re a class act!” she said snickering. You lowered your gaze and you tightened your arms closer to your body.

“I've made my mistakes, I'm not going to deny it. But what I've done has been to help people to the best of my ability.”

“Spoken like a true hero (Y/N).”

“Please sweets I-”

She slammed her hands against the bars, causing you to flinch slightly. “Do. Not. Call. Me. That.” she seethed slowly. Her grip around the bars tightened making her already pale knuckles turn stark white. “You lost the right to, the minute you betrayed me.” Her anger grew. “You’re no hero, you’re a failure. You failed to save Piltover, you failed to stop the movement of shimmer and you failed to save me.”

Tears welled up in your eyes. How did things come to this? Why does she insist on hurting you like this? You turned away slightly and quickly wiped away your tears. No matter how much she treated you like this, you refused to have anyone see you as such. Not for being seen as weak, you already had enough of that going around. You hated when people you love or care for saw you break down. You didn't see it with your back turned, Jinx’s anger had died down her expression faltered to a mixture of regret and sadness. Slowly she lessened her grip on the bars of the cell and reached out for you partially, pulling her hand back through and back onto the bars.

“They want to execute you, you know?” you said still facing the other direction.

“And I guess I'm supposed to thank you for not allowing that to happen?” she asked.

Sighing you turn back around. “They don't know I'm here right now.” she narrowed her eyes a bit.

“So what's your point?”

You step forward cautiously. “The citizens of Piltover and Zaun don’t know you as I do. They see you as this vile, horrible, bomb-toting psycho who will kill anyone in her way no matter what the cost. They see you as a monster Jinx.” you say sadly.

“Well, they’re right.” she smiled. This made your heart drop down to hell.

“You are not a monster Jinx.”

“Yes, I am. I’ve accepted it, why haven't you?” she spat.

“Really? Ok, prove it.” She eyes you up and down as you walk toward her cell door and unlock it. You pull open the door and step back. “You're free to leave.”

Jinx looked up at you and smirked with her devilishly pink eyes trained on you. “Oh really?” she giggled. Like a cat, she leaped off her cot and strutted towards the open cell door, and stopped at the entrance.

You don't answer her, you look away from her predatory gaze and glance at the floor.

“For a smart guy, this was an incredibly stupid move (Y/N).” she giggles, baring her teeth like a predator. Crossing her arms she continues to look at you, you can feel her gaze burning into your soul. “What’s the catch toots?” she asked.

“Like I said you are free to leave, but to do so, you have to kill me.”

Her smile widens. “Is that all? Really?” she steps out of the cell and invades your personal space immediately. Your gaze meets hers unwavering. You stare into her pink eyes looking to see if you even see a fraction of the person. That once was. “You want to fight, is that it?” she asked smiling widely and unervingly.

“No, I don't want to fight you, Jinx. Like I said you can leave, but you have to kill me first.”

“Don’t think I won’t,” she warns. As soon as she moves, you pull her pistol out and aim it at her as quickly as you can. She runs almost directly into the barrel of the gun and holds her hands up. Her eyes were wide as saucers and shocked as all can be. She smiles and backs up slowly, putting on a pouty, almost innocent expression. “Oh no, (Y/N) you wouldn't shoot little ole me now would you?” she mocked.

You lower put the safety on and twirl the pistol around your finger until the barrel is facing downwards and you raise it to her. She looks at you confused and then snatches the gun away with annoyance added to her voice “, That's no fun, at least make it a challenge toots.”

“I told you I'm not going to fight you.”

She smiles and slowly walks toward you. “Maybe I should shoot you again, remind you that I'm not that person anymore. That jinx that you loved? She’s gone. I'm all that remains.”

“Good, then this should be easy for you.” You say. She looks down at the gun and back at you. Her grip tightened around the handle. “What are you waiting for?” you ask. She turns her gaze back onto you, glaring at you. “Here, let me make it easier for you.” you grab her hand with the gun and you raise it to your forehead, and place the barrel between your eyes. Her eyes widen and her hand starts to shake a little bit.

“What's the big deal?” You ask. “You’re the big bad villain everyone says you are right? This is what they do! They kill their friends and family.” she lowers her gaze a bit. “Their loved ones,” you say quietly. “They do whatever is necessary to get what they want right?...RIGHT?!” you say sharply, yanking her arm harshly. A scowl grows on her face and her jaw tightens. “Come on, Sweets, kill me.”

She raises the gun and cocks the hammer back. Her arm shaking like a leaf and her eyes glaring into yours. A silence fell over the both of you. A few seconds roll by as they seem like hours. She tightens her grip on the gun and growls. Still nothing. “You can’t do it, can you?” you ask. You reach out slowly and push the barrel down towards the floor. “No matter what you tell yourself or what others may say, you still care. Otherwise, you would have killed me that night.”

“I missed.” she scoffed.

“No. You missed it because you chose to. I've seen you shoot before and not once have you ever missed a shot. Even when you are distracted you always hit your target. You wouldn't have missed it unless you had meant to.” you say. “Underneath all that hate and shimmer is still the Jinx I fell in love with. It's still you and I’ll never give up on you, no matter what happens.”

Tears fell from her cheeks. She let go of the gun and it clattered to the floor. She wiped the tears as they fell and you walked closer to her and lightly wrapped your arms around her. She flinched at the tender touch at first but then slowly melted into your hug and cried Into your chest. Her sobs were muffled by your jacket. You wrapped around her tightly and lowered your jaw on the top of her head. You closed your eyes as a few tears of your own slowly fell from your cheeks.

“It's going to be ok, I’m going to get you out of here,” you said.

I hoped you guys enjoyed it. Please let me know if you want me to try and write any particular ones you would like to see, I'm trying to practice my writing and that should include any genre. Thank you for reading.

#arcane #jinx x male reader #jinx x fem reader #jinx x gender neutral reader #jin x reader #yandere jinx #comfort #jinx and silco

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thatlittleegyptologist · 1 year

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Hi! First off, I love your blog - I look forward every day coming off work to what you and your friends post. The King Tut ducks post<3 Stuff like that makes my day. Anyway I wanted to ask, because some of my friends can be real jerks even though I love them to death, but they always insist that history isn't important unless it's economic or scientific. I'm not good with debate so they don't take my responses seriously, and I wondered if you had any persuasive arguments that could help. Thanks!

Ahh it’s the classic “science vs arts” bullshit, which if you ask either a scientist or an arts student they’ll tell you both are important. Both are the backbone of society and take inspiration from each other. History is a science, but it’s a social science and thus people who are snobbish about what counts as science (and yes I’ve seen people refuse to believe Archaeology or Ancient Linguistics are sciences) will use it to dismiss the field entirely. You can’t say ‘well it’s only good if it's the ‘science part’ because that’s the whole part. It’s analysing patterns and data in human behaviour to understand the past. That’s science.

The ‘it’s only useful if it makes money’ is capitalism and I bet they love the taste of boot leather.

I don't think I have any persuasive arguments per se. I'm trying to form an argument against people I don't know, whose arguments I haven't heard in full and thus it makes it incredibly difficult to structure a response. If people shit on history in my presence I tend to not allow them to be in my presence after that. Don't respect what I do? Don't want to know you. Simple as that. You don't get to shit on things I like and then get to stick around. I mean that genuinely. I wouldn't even consider arguing with them. They'd be out of my life so fast.

The study of History is important due to the need to build an honest and complete (as much as we are able) picture of where we've come from to inform where we go from here. Understanding where we've come from, and the decisions people have made to get us to where we are informs much of the way we live our lives. We are where we are as a people and a planet due to the decisions of those in the past. Saying it’s unimportant to learn this speaks of a lack of understanding of why things are the way they are. Without history you can’t answer questions like:

Why are so many roads in Hong Kong named like streets you’d find in England?

Why does Britain have so many place names written in French, but pronounced completely differently?

Why is Germany restricted to an army of 100,000?

How did we learn to make cheese?

When was the wheel invented?

Why did Henry VIII get married so many times?

Why did the Egyptians build the Pyramids?

How did Hieroglyphs end up forming the script I’m using to write this right now?

I could go on, but you get the idea.

This brings us to how we see our world now. Politics and Foreign relations are based on laws or policies written in the past that tie directly to how a country was formed internally (how it got its name/name changes it’s been through or how the borders have changed), and how they relate to countries around them (wars/peace treaties/trade/help with natural disasters). If you fail to take these things into account, then you're likely to cause a diplomatic incident. Say you're trying to mediate a dispute between Russia and the USA. Are you going to ignore the history between the two countries because it's not important? You're going to disregard potential flashpoints in discussions because you thought the history of the Cold War was unimportant? Congrats, you've sent us all to Nuclear winter.

History cannot be used prophetically, but it can be used to see where we've made previous mistakes or when we're in a pattern of behaviour that's led to things like World Wars and Genocide. In fact, due to the study of History we’re able to make lists of warning signs for a descent into fascism, that we can look at and say ‘hey that’s happening right now, we should do something about that.’ History teaches us not to blindly trust what every politician or lawmaker says, because they have been known to lie. Knowing how politicians have lied to us previously allows us to spot it in the present, especially when it’s on easily verifiable information. Imagine if no one had fact checked America’s President (2016-2020) on the absolute bullshit coming out of his mouth about historical events. Imagine knowing what was being said was a lie, but not having anything recorded from history to use to point it out and therefore having no one believe you when you tell them it’s a lie? Your country is going to hell very quickly. Even so, as historians we know that it is very difficult to move or sway people’s opinions about history unless we’re telling people what they already want to know. People have as many prejudices and biases, as you’ll find in any historical text. Often, the best way forward for a historian is simply to acknowledge the information history has given you about a situation, and move yourself to a path on which you can attempt to avoid it. The more people that do this, the more people that recognise the patterns history shows us, the less likely the thing is to happen.

I think the thing most people don’t understand is that history happens whether you like it or not. Yesterday is history. Today’s news headlines will be history by the time the clock hits midnight. That car crash on the busy road this morning? History. You can use the history of car crashes on a road to work out how, why, and where people are crashing and to inform where best to implement new road safety features. Ignore the history of crashes on a road? People die. You can use someone’s social history to see what they’re like as a person. A person has a lot of history getting into fights with people, and their ex-partners say they have anger issues in previous relationships? Their history is telling you that you should probably steer clear. Want to prove someone was at an event they don’t remember attending? The photos of that event on your phone from 3 years ago are the historical proof that they did.

History is in everything we do, but so often it’s not called history and thus we fail to appreciate it as such. Everything that happens is linked by a history of events, and you can’t unlink these things from one another. It’s in our culture. It’s in the ideas we have and the way we view things. You have opinions and behaviours because you learned them from somewhere, usually your parents. Your parents will have learned them from their parents, and at some point there will have been a moment in time where an event in your ancestors life will have caused that opinion or behaviour to form. I keep a lot of canned food in the house. It’s what my mother taught me to do in order to always have something to eat. She got it from my grandma, and my grandma got it from her mother. My great grandma did it because she went without food due to rationing during WWII, so she’d always keep cans of food in the house so if money was tight there was always something that could be eaten. The point is, I did not originate the idea. I got it from somewhere else, and it appealed to me. I may modify the behaviour or even forget where the idea came from, but it’s still as a result of the history of my family. Your upbringing, your culture, your friends/family are all things that have shaped who you are. That comes from the past, and those people got it from their past, and their sources from their past, etc.

Our collective past is inescapable. No matter how hard we try, it’s always there. To pretend like that’s not important is to fundamentally ignore the reason you exist in the first place. If you don’t think your own existence is important, I think you may have bigger problems than not liking history.

In the end, if someone thinks like the way you’ve described there’s going to be relatively little that will change their minds. You could construct the Perfect Argument and it will never be enough because they’ve already decided that this is the way it is. The stubbornness of those unwilling to accept that they might not actually know or be right about everything is not a great trait, but it’s one a lot of people have. Sometimes you have to just let it go...or remind them that mocking your friends interests probably isn't the best way to go about keeping that friendship.

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bellamer · 2 years

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How to Be Husband and Wife:

(It took me 8 months to write this bullshit)

Despite being able to see seconds into the future, this was not how Katakuri expect his wedding night to go.

It wasn't like he expected it to go completely well, after all, it was an arranged marriage, but he didn't expect his wife to put on a happy facade through the entire wedding and wedding party, only to run away from him and into the bathroom and sob her eyes out immediately once she stepped foot into her new home. She hadn't even taken off her wedding dress yet.

His mother thought it was about time to marry him off to strengthen her relationship with the Kerási Kingdom. The Kerási Kingdom was a Kingdom that grew beautiful and bountiful cherry trees that produced the sweetest and tastiest cherries anyone could imagine, the Kingdom making quite the profit from them.

King Kirsche was eager to marry off his eldest daughter, Princess Cereza. However, Princess Cereza screamed and fainted when she saw Katakuri and refused to even be near him, so King Kirsche cut a deal with Big Mom, saying that he would provide her with thousands of pounds of delicious cherry desserts monthly, if Katakuri would marry his youngest daughter, Princess Cherrisue, which Big Mom agreed to.

Cherrisue didn't have much of a reaction when she met Katakuri. She was quiet but she never indicated that he scared her or made her uncomfortable in any way, though they didn't spend much time together outside of meetings between his mother and her father, but Cherrisue tried to engage in conversation with him.

She was really sweet to him each time they met, but he kept her at a distance, not wanting to accidentally scare her. Their wedding day went smoothly, even though he didn't kiss her, too afraid to remove his scarf.

So why now, was she breaking down ? Did she not want to be married to him him ? Did it just now sink in that she was to spend the rest of her life with someone like him ? He didn't know the problem so he didn't know how to comfort her and he had no one to go to for advice. The only siblings who could give him a tiny fraction of advice defected from the family and contact with them was forbidden. This was something he was going to have to figure out himself.

He approached the bathroom door and hesitantly but gently knocked on it.

"Cherri....Cherrisue ?" He asked, trying to be gentle with his voice. "You've been in there for a while and I'm worried for you... will you talk to me so I can fix it ?"

He heard her sniffle and shuffle.

"Why should I ?" She asked, her voice watery.

"Because I'm your husband." Katakuri answered.

"Don't pretend like that means anything to you !" Cherrisue snapped, which caught Katakuri off guard. "I'm not going to play pretend with you when you don't even want me !"

Katakuri didn't know what to say, so he continued to let Cherrisue rant.

"You probably wanted Cereza because she's prettier than me and more graceful and ladylike, but you got stuck with the less pretty one instead !" Cherrisue wailed. "You didn't even want to kiss me and you've been so cold towards me, you're mad you got stuck with me instead of Princess Perfect !"

"Cherrisue...." Katakuri started. He had to think of what to say. "I wouldn't want to be with Cereza because she wouldn't want to be with me...you saw her reaction when she first laid eyes on me, and she didn't even get to know me, I couldn't be with a person like that." He leaned his head against the bathroom door. "It's not that I don't want you or that I'm intentionally being cold towards you, I just didn't want to scare you and me not kissing you was for the same reason."

Cherrisue didn't answer.

"I was afraid that if I showed you my true self, it would change the way you treated me, since that's what happens when most people see...I didn't want to get close to you, then get hurt if you rejected me because of my appearance..." Katakuri said. "But...I want this marriage to work and I'm willing to trust you and let you get to know me and vice versa, but we'll take it slow."

Katakuri heard a sniffle and then heard Cherrisue unlock the door. He stepped away from the door as Cherrisue opened it, wiping her wet eyes. Katakuri squatted down to look his wife in the eyes, with her only being 5'5 while he was 16 feet tall.

"You promise ?" Cherrisue asked with a sniffle. Katakuri nodded.

"I promise that as your husband, I will put in the hard effort to make sure that our marriage will work and that I will no longer push you away and I will take the time to talk to you and get to know you, something I regret not doing sooner." Katakuri promised.

Cherrisue nodded, wiping away the rest of her tears and actually smiled a genuine smile towards Katakuri. Katakuri's cheeks dusted pink when he saw the smile. Thankfully his blush was hidden behind his scarf.

"I'll promise, as your wife, that I'll do the same." She said warmly, making Katakuri's heart flutter.

On the first official day of them being married, Katakuri woke up to a delicious and familiar smell. Doughnuts.

He looked to his side to see that Cherrisue was gone. They had slept in the same bed that night, although Katakuri tried to give her some space, she insisted that they sleep in the same bed together. He had went to bed with his scarf on that night and had barely gotten a wink of sleep.

He got out of bed and headed towards the smell that was coming from the kitchen. When he stepped inside, he noticed that his usual chefs weren't there, instead, Cherrisue was, humming softly, her back towards him.

Katakuri cleared his throat to get her attention, so that she wouldn't be too startled. She turned her head to look behind her and smiled.

"Good morning !" She said cheerfully. "I let your chefs have the morning off so that I could make your breakfast, you're just in time too, I just finished icing them !"

"Hm ?" Katakuri asked. "Icing what ?"

"The breakfast specialty of the Kerási Kingdom, of course !" She said, turning around to reveal what was on her tray. "Cherry jam filled doughnuts with vanilla bean icing and cherry infused tea !"

Katakuri's mouth immediately started watering from behind his scarf as he saw the huge doughnuts and tea on the tray. He reached out to take one but stopped himself when he realized that in order to eat one, he'd have to remove his scarf.

"Don't be shy, I made these just for you, doughnuts are one of the best snacks for breakfast or any time really !" She said, watching Katakuri's hesitation. "Unless...." her face fell. "Unless you don't like doughnuts... I'm sorry, I should've asked first, I'll put them away..."

"No !" He objected quite loudly, making Cherrisue jump a little, the tea cup rattling on the tray. "It's just that... I usually eat doughnuts at a certain time of day... they're my favorite food."

"Oh." Cherrisue said. "Well then, I'll warm them up later and remake the tea and you can have them then, okay ?" She said with a bright smile.

"I appreciate it." Katakuri said, glad that she was so understanding. Maybe one day, he would be able to trust her enough to show her what was really under his scarf and let her join him on his merienda.

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece original character #one piece oc #katakuri x oc #charlotte katakuri #charlotte linlin #big mom pirates #big mom #one piece x oc

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letsgetrowdy43 · 5 months

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Ignore this!!

It's a Christmas prompts list for a cell that is in the works rn

❄︎ Dialogue

"Stop trying to get me to walk under the mistletoe."

"i said UGLY Christmas sweaters not nsfw Christmas sweaters, we can NOT wear these, my boss will kill me"

"That should be our Christmas card this year."

"Why'd you turn the music off?"

"I know we said no presents this year but."

"I hate Christmas shopping." - "I love Christmas shopping!"

"Do you want to put the star on the top of the tree?"

"What do you think? Like the tree?"

"Open your stocking!"

"It's snowing!"

"What are you doing?" - "Making a snow angel."

"Do people even use nutcrackers?"

"Do you still believe in Santa?"

"You'd make a cute elf."

"Look! Reindeers!"

"Is that supposed to be a snowman?

"You didn't really think I'd let you spend Christmas alone, did you?"

"You'd make a really terrible Santa"

"It's a time of good will, not whatever the hell you're doing"

"Aren't you just Santa's Little Helper?"

"You call this decorated?"

"How on earth did you get tinsel there?"

"Wow, you really go overboard with decorations, don't you?"

"It looks like Santa threw up here"

"What are you doing to that poor wrapping paper?"

"Exactly how much more hinting do I have to do?"

"Have I told you how much I hate

Christmas shopping?"

"Secret Santa is bullshit"

"Tell me what you want for Christmas"

"Why are you so impossible to shop for?"

"Please tell me you aren't searching my room for where l've hidden the presents"

"I thought we weren't doing gifts!

"Do you have any carrots?"

"This is the best gift you could've given me.

"You have snow on your eyelashes, looks cute."

"Come here by the fire."

"Please don't make me wear this, I look ridiculous."

"You've really made my Christmas this year.

"I thought you were going home for Christmas." - "Well, I couldn't leave you all alone."

"I'm never letting you convince me to go carolling again."

"Here, you can have one of my gloves."

"Did you get us matching pyjamas?"

"You look so beautiful in the snow."

"It's bold of you to assume I haven't eaten my entire advent calendar.

"Christmas hot chocolate is not normal hot chocolate. Where are the marshmallows?"

"Smell this candle, it's amazing."

❄︎ Scenarios

Decorating the tree

Dancing in the snow

Present shopping

Gift giving

Wrapping gifts

Making a gingerbread house

Gingerbread house competition

Snowball fight

Sledging

Mistletoe

Christmas baking

Christmas market

Making snowmen

Christmas party

Watching Christmas movies

Dancing to Christmas music

Going ice skating

Christmas dinner

Making Christmas dinner

Fake dating for Christmas Ball

sharing! a! long! scarf!

a being an ass and putting their cold hands on b's warm neck

christmas! market! dates!!!

decorating wars complete with Too Much Glitter

ice skating dates and which one's kinda unstable and clinging cutely to the other

fireplaces.

you took me on a cut-your-own-christmas-tree-farm date & holy frick you make a cute lumberjack I WAS UNPREPARED

the power's out & we're snowed in, how on earth will we stay warm???

candy cane sword fights & how quickly they can escalate

your family sucks so you're kinda meh on holidays, lets make some fun, new traditions together!

we were going to go walking around the neighborhood to see all the pretty lights but you woke up feeling a bit under the weather and not up to being outside in the snow so i snuck out early this morning and made a video of them all for you so you didn't have to miss out

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grambini · 6 months

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Field Notes- Rüdiger "Odin" Torvik

Some shrink told me to start writing down my thoughts during operations. Said it would help with the flashbacks or some other kind of psychological bullshit. Feels like I'm writing a damn diary if you ask me. Oh well, doctor's orders am I right?

Day 1:

We came to our destination late last night. 'Area was clear, the others went and camped out at the safe house while my operation had just gotten started. But wait, I'm supposed to be telling you how I'm feeling, correct? This isn't some mission report, huh?

Alright fine, here you go, doc. I'm tired. I haven't slept in more than 48 hours. The grease paint on my eyes makes them stick together worse when I can barely keep them open as is, but ain't no way I'm closing them anytime soon. Other than the constant nagging nightmares, my operation is more involved than the commissioned jævler you have back on base. I'm not even part of your jævla unit, but if I want to get my money I had to promise to make these damn reports. But I digress, you got on to my ass for using too much profanity in my last entry already. Back to the sappy stuff even if it makes me feel like Å drite seg ut.

Day 2:

I officially separated off the main unit last night. Took more of their rations than I meant to (someone smuggled a bottle of bourbon so don't shoot me for taking it). Anyway, I'm posted next to the objective location. I'm sure the others would be bitching and moaning about the cold right now, especially that squat one named Frost. Ironic though, isn't it? How am I supposed to write about my feelings if I myself don't even understand them?

Day 10:

Large skip in days, huh doc? I guess now is better a time than never to really "let down my walls" as you call them. Dritt hit on day 3 of the operation. The enemy knew that the little task force was coming and ambushed them. I could hear the shots from my recon point miles away. By the time I made it back to base to give the drittunge my help, they had already scattered like mice. So naturally I followed your English ways of doing things and called in what happened. They told me to keep at it. Said I was a "wild card" because they didn't know I was here. So yes, it is just me out here in the middle of fucking nowhere. Oddly enough though, it feels like home. I've taken the rest of the rations left by the unit and have been surviving off those. The enemy is still on alert. 'Thinking your force is going to regroup and try again. Uff! Like they would ever do something so noble. I've still got a check waiting to be cashed once this operation is over, so there isn't any room for me to turn tail like your little posse did.

-a large expertly drawn hand giving the middle finger is drawn-

Day 25:

Things are finally moving forward. Funny how one man can make two weeks' worth of rations last 20 days. Just kidding. Still, my spirits are high. Killed a couple of the svin yesterday. They let down their guard finally, so I plan on tonight being my last night here. I was given permission to do whatever necessary to get the intel I was sent here for. Why else would an organization hire a mercenary? Still, this might be my last entry and you'll find this book on my cold dead body. Or I'll be seeing you in a week where you'll psychoanalyze every word I write and the way I write it. My answer still stays the same. I'm not translating my language for you. Let me have some of my words not get banned by your posh preference of vocabulary. Uff! Even that sounded like something you'd say. So... Faen!

Day 30:

Turns out I needed more than a day. There were more of them than I thought. Like breaking down walls in an old house and hundreds of mice scampering away. I had to resort to blowing up their entire base including me. found the perfect little detonation spot. Stockpiled all their grenades and other explosives as well as their fuel tanks in a single location close to the middle of the building they occupied. 'Was on my way out when one of them decided to take a look at the racket I was making in the middle of the night. It was about time too. I started at 2300 and finished at about 3000. Luckily I got the drive before I finished my explosive pile. Un-luckily(?) I had to detonate myself with it. Got thrown a couple yards away in the blast and managed to bust my leg pretty good. I was able to get far enough from the location so if they did send reinforcements I wouldn't be found.

Day 31:

They say that people can change. But can they really? I've done so many things in my life. My crimes started when I was young. I've learned every underhanded war tactic there is. Using my training and knowledge to commit so many atrocities Normally I can keep them inside. Keep them hidden within me. What am I even saying? This mission has made me soft. No, not soft. But aware of what I've done. Are these the "walls" you were talking about, doc? Anyway. I've slowly been dragging myself towards the extraction point.

Day 33:

I stumbled upon an abandoned church today. 'Couldn't help myself but to go inside. There are skeletons everywhere. The place looks like it must have been ransacked long ago. A piano was at the far end of the room. Completely ruined and wasting away. All the keys were worn and broken. None made a sound. But yet, as I played I could hear the music clearly. The song my mother always played sounded in my ears as I pressed down on the stiff keys. It took me back to those quiet warm evenings. I would finish with my tutoring and sneak down the stairs to listen to her play. My sister would also join me on the stairs, hidden in the corner. When she played thinking that no one was around, it would feel like her feelings would merge with the songs and it would take flight, carrying you away with it to her world. It wouldn't last long though, once she learned she had an audience she'd quickly usher us down and turn back into a teacher rather than a mother. The music she played would give us more warmth and comfort than any of her lessons. Sometimes I wonder where I'd be if the accident never happened. If my life was never turned upside down. Would it still feel as empty as it does now? Feeling the cold from having a family without affection, or the cold from the winter plains somewhere in Russia.

Day 40:

I got a message from base today. They'll be picking me up at 2100.

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bigshot · 1 year

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NOW'S YOUR CHANCE TO MEET A [[BIG SHOT]]!!

Permanent Plotter Call for Spamton G. Spamton I made the first one in the old editor and back when I was still getting a grasp on writing Spamton, so I'll be deleting or ignoring it and rewriting it entirely! If you already liked the first one, you can still like this one.

Spammy needs himself some long-term relationships, be they good or bad, so hit this up if you want to let this awful little man into your muse's life! All are welcome and I'm always up for suggestions!

Liking this post definitely nets you:

Memes! Loads and loads of memes!

A live horse (me) stampeding your DMs!

Maybe an unexpected starter or meme reply!

AND MUCH MUCH MORE!!!

Wanna see some fun suggestions for potential palling around? Or whatever the opposite would be, if you hate him that much? Click Here!!!

Friends! Spamton's great at making people think he likes them, but it takes a specil kind of person for him to trust! Muses who see straight past his bullshit are the best candidates, as he wouldn't feel like he's gotta sell himself or his products to them! He's got serious abandonment issues, though, so it may be an uphill battle to make him believe someone's kindness is genuine.

Enemies! It's easy to upset him if you go for the ego and he's not exactly an easy person to talk to. In fact, he probably annoys most people to death! Be ready for some nonsensical and colorful insults if you get on his bad side and maybe even a fight! If you wanna kick Spamton's ass, go for it! He is small and awful. He also bites pretty hard.

Business Partners! This guy's been around the server a few times by now, so he's got a fairly firm grasp on running a business and crunching numbers! Things just... tend to go downhill once he starts acting on his ideas. He doesn't care so much about the money as he does being able to run things his way, so he'd be totally willing to hand out advice or help behind the scenes (... ironically, for a price).

Customers! That said, he does love making a sale! If you're looking for somebody willing to obtain and sell your muse something a little less savory, you've got a muse gullible enough to buy absolute junk, or you got a job nobody else is desperate enough to do, Spam's your man! If the price is right, he'll sell or do it!

Romancing! (Why!!?) Haehehaha....! Wait... you're serious!? Spamton's all but convinced he isn't really worthy of affection (hm yes, woobify the scrimblo), fully aware of how ugly most people (including himself) think he is, and every relationship he's had in the past was either shallow or exploded extraordinarily (and that was BEFORE the whole puppet thing happened). He keeps himself pretty guarded when it comes to his own feelings, so if you're really up for it... well, [[God]] speed and buy him things. I do love my angst.

Star/Sungazing/Nature Lovers Spamton is in Heaven right now, literal or not. Most of his previous life was devoted to escaping his home in the Dark World (specifically, the Internet) and getting into the (presumably) Light World, which he called Heaven. He's never experienced things like a natural sky, wild animals, weather changes, seasons... He's often taken hostage by the beauty of it all, he practically worships the sun, and may need help figuring some of it out. Guy's liable to fall into the ocean or get stuck in a tree or just melt his eyes staring at bright lights.

Staring Into The Void Until It Stares Back (But With a Bro) Have you ever been so far even as decided to use go want to look more like? Why do they call it oven when you of in the cold food of out hot eat the food? Spamton's great at following nonsensical discussions and gets a lot of joy out of it when people entertain or understand his glitching thought patterns, but he's also somewhat aware of his status of being a side character in a video game. Self-Aware muses, ones prone to mad ramblings, or even other Internet citizens would find an amazing conversational partner in him!

And there's always more ideas!! Like I said before, I'm always up for anything and if I ever write up a meme for you that screams "turn me into a thread," know that I'm TOTALLY game.

#isola rp ad #isola plotting call #isola plotter call #isola plotter #how many more tags uhhh #also i might be slow to slide into DMs im a nervous bab

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im-always-the-problem-its-me · 7 months

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dear tumblr, i forgot about you again. i'm always abandoning you for what i think are more nobler pursuits, but then i remember some things can't be shared publicly. some things go beyond the pages of my private journal. some things need this outlet that stains my memories and reminds me that if i post some things maybe they'll transform. the void makes them concrete. tangible. something i can look back on and think 'oh, i remember that.' 'i remember those feelings' or 'wow, i'm still right there.'

i have escaped a place that was killing me. i have healthier eating habits now (meaning, i'm actually eating). i am very active. my pain levels have decreased. i feel happier, but i still have secret dramas to contend with.

i am in a place with family i barely know, but am getting to know. how strange not to grow up with people you share blood with. especially such close blood. a new sibling. the father who actually contributed to my biology, even if he had nothing to do with my upbringing.

i am surprised by the mix of things i feel although it seems totally normal to feel how i do. i am happy. i am trying to 'fit in' with new people which is bringing up the horror of how i used to feel in high school. i'm too old to feel 'nobody likes me' but i do. i analyze all i say in social situations and wonder if that was 'too something' for people.

i have been told i'm 'too much' for the majority of my life. is this true? i know i'm 'out there', but i'm kind. i don't feel the need to assert my opinions. i feel i listen to others very well and am not argumentative. i share how i feel. i still write my surface bullshit, terrified to actually bare my soul, and still debating whether or not to get back into publishing.

i quit a lot. i gained a lot too though. life will always be a battle. i just don't really fight anymore. i just slowly let everything fall apart and fall back into place again.

i am at a crossroads. again. i have a month to make a decision that will probably destroy my life. i'm leaning toward not going through with it of course. i don't even think i can. i mean, i just got used to being happy. why do i have to be my own wrench in every good plan?

i don't feel so confused anymore. i only feel bad for others' involved who will be affected. i can't keep secrets. well, i can...but they destroy me inside. never a good idea when you're a fragile girl who already has a stomach ache about life in general 82% of the time.

i realized that i hold a lot. everyone talks about autumn and how it teaches us to let go. what if you don't want to hang on but you do...like, you can't control that you do?

HE says to learn to be cold and indifferent in certain areas, but i am all or nothing. either i'm numb to everything, uncaring, cruel even...or i'm feeling everything so intensely that the only way to release it all is to scream.

i'm in this post-transition phase i guess. i just made a big change. a big move. i am used to my surroundings and finally, i love them...but i'm worried about finances, i'm worried about all i feel and flipping out on my new family...and i'm worried about the possibility of seeing HIM in a month. i'm pretty sure it's happening but i don't know WHAT will happen when we're in the same room again and i have to have some control or my entire life will burn down.

i once said i was ok with that. i'd do that for HIM. but HE doesn't want that. he doesn't want me destroyed. too late though. what can't be, could have been, maybe will be...all that eats me alive.

i warned HIM. HE can't hold anything against me if he chooses to do so because i have been clear about how i am and how i handle things. which is always 'not well'. i'm good. i'm not good at being bad. i'm just really good at feeling bad when there's no reason for me to.

i'll figure this out. or i won't. i'll sweep it under another rug and discover it again in the future.

it's what i always do.

#personal #writing #tumblr #life #its not you its me

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sylvanfreckles · 1 year

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So. I caved (ha) to peer pressure and watched The Descent, because it seems my plot idea for the DeanCas Horrorfest has some parallels.

I texted live reactions to my friend the entire time I was watching. Under the cut for spoilers.

-Oh who could have predicted the happy family outing in the first five minutes would turn to tragedy

-I'm assuming the main conflict comes when Sad Widow and The Homewrecker come to blows

-I'm not scared, I'm just waiting for these women to stop whining. They've been together five minutes, I think their periods have synced.

-They're sliding down a rope without gloves now. Why are they doing this without gloves?

-OH NO BAD CGI BATS DURING THE DAY

-"Be careful, these caves get pretty cold. That's why I'm not wearing any sleeves, so I can intimidate the cold with my patented Homewrecker Guns."

-"I don't get lost" says the woman who is definitely going to get them lost.

-Oh, look, Captain Homewrecker led them all into danger because no one understands her fEeLiNgS

-Oh, NOW they have gloves

-It's more than halfway over and the scariest monster is Homewrecker's hubris.

-Oh, hey, actual monster. Only took 51 minutes.

-I can't remember all their names, but we have our main character, Grieving Widow, along with Homewrecker, Adrenaline Junky, Experienced Caver (who is done with Homewrecker's bullshit), Medical Student, and English Teacher (who can understand cave paintings?)

-Grieving Widow saw the monster and of course no one believers her. Who would ever believe Grieving Widow when Homewrecker knows everything about caves?

-Those aren't dead animals. Those are bones. Of moose. So there's a moose-sized hole somewhere nearby. Optimus Prime could climb in through a moose-sized hole.

-Fucking fuckbags jumpscare

-And Homewrecker was the real villain. I knew it!

-I know Adrenaline Junky just died, but I'm not sure who of the interchangeable other three did too.

-So either the med student (still useful) or the English teacher (she already read the cave painting so she's dead weight now) is dead. And being eaten!

-Ah! Medical Student survived! Surely she can do an impromptu autopsy in this cave while there are other monsters roaming around!

-Well. Grieving Widow's gonna have some nightmares after this.

-Hey, blood pool!

-Something something...caves represent the female reproductive system...something something birth trauma, I'm sure.

-I mean, it's fitting. The males of the species are blind and navigate by wound, while the females can still see. This whole movie is just a man trying to explain your period.

-Grieving Widow has a higher body count than the monsters

-Homewrecker is like "I'm not leaving without her", and Grieving Widow is like "fuck therapy , I should have been killing monsters!"

-Well, just two left.

-Covered in blood, hooting like a monkey, our lone surviving Grieving Widow speeds off into the fading light, her friends left behind to feed the mountain.

It was okay. Not as scary as the premise made it seem, probably because of all the interpersonal drama surrounding it. It kinda lost the tension for me when Sarah started killing monsters left and right. I'm not gonna say I could do better because I haven't actually done full horror (unless Walrider from Whumptober counts, but that's mostly homage to Outlast and I'm pretty sure it's worse than this movie). I just didn't find it all that scary or compelling.

#the descent #freckles watches movies #live reactions #scary movies #horror movies

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kpop---scenarios · 3 years

Text

Cravings || One

Pairing: Vampire! Hongjoong x Reader

Warning: None Yet

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: If you would like to be tagged, let me know!

"Babe, hey babe." Your boyfriend, Chad calls out to you, as you're sitting at the kitchen table, running over over bills again and trying to figure out how the fuck you're going to try to pay everything. You worked damn hard, and barely had anything to show for it. Ever since Chad had moved in a few months ago, without an invitation, you were stressed. Everything had gone up and doubled since he hadn't left, and he also hadn't contributed anything financially towards the household. You paid for rent, utilities, groceries and you even paid when the two of you went out for dinner. Chad worked full time, but where his money was going, you had no fucking idea. He constantly went out with his 'boys' , often coming home obliterated, and just expecting you to have your legs spread open for him when he rolled in, apparently that was your duty as his girlfriend, according to him. As if not contributing and acting like a man child was such a turn on. Not to mention the countless hours he spent on your gaming console, yelling and talking to his friends, leaving you no time to play any games that you like, unless you wanted to wake up a few hours before you had to work to sneak on it. But by the time you got home from work, cleaned up the messes he made throughout the day, made yourself dinner, showered and got into your PJ'S, you were too damn tired to do anything. You knew you had to wake up the next day and do it all over again, so any sleep you got was precious.

A part of you often wondered why you were in this relationship with him. Maybe you were scared to be alone, maybe you didn't think you could do any better than him, but you stuck with him, because for some reason, you loved the guy.

"What do you want, Chad?" You sigh, walking into the living room where he's sprawled out on the couch, headset on and his match paused. "I'm trying to figure out bills, you know that thing that keeps us warm, and with light and hot water, that you said you'd help pay and haven't."

"Yeah, babe, can you go to the corner store and get those Takis, you know the ones I like? The not so spicy ones though babe, cause remember I have acid reflux, and a diet coke." He says, turning back to the screen, laughing at something said through his head phones.

You could feel the rage building up inside of you, awfully quick, and it was seeping out of you even quicker.

"Are you going to pay for said snacks?" You ask, trying to keep your voice calm.

"What?" He laughs. "Babe, no, come on. I'm broke. I don't get paid again for two weeks. You know this."

"You just got paid yesterday." You breathe through gritted teeth. "Where the hell did all your money go?" You ask, your hands balled into fists.

"You know babe, I had the fantasy football league entry, plus I owed Kyle money for the keg bomber last weekend, and I took the boys out for supper yesterday. Shit adds up." He says, never looking at you, only focusing on the game.

"And that's my problem, why exactly? Why is it always on me just because you're not financially stable. Grow up, you're 35 for christ sakes!" You yell. You stomp to the kitchen, grabbing your purse and slipping on your shoes before heading back into the living room.

"Yeah, she's got her shoes and purse." He laughs. "She's definitely going to get my stuff."

"You know what Chad? I'm definitely not going to get your snacks, get your own fucking snacks, Chaaad. I'm going for a drink, with my own goddamn money." You spit, storming out of the house.

You're wandering down the street, like you had been for the last thirty five minutes, and finally you found somewhere that looked decent enough. You walk in, and the lights are on very low, the place is almost dark, had it not been for the red lights swinging above tables, or the string of red lights wrapping around the ceiling. Your eyes wander the open floor of seating as a soft beat vibrates through the building. Every person in here who was sitting with someone was leaning closely to that person, seemingly having an intense conversation. The vibes felt dark and eerie, but you welcomed it, you enjoyed it instead of being around Chad's fuck boy mentality. You walk towards the bar, sliding onto one of the empty bar stools and setting your purse on your lap. Your eyes were looking down when you felt a presence standing in front of you. You look up and see quite possibly the most beautiful man you have ever seen.

"What can I get for you?" He asks, his voice is deep, yet so smooth and calming.

"Double vodka and coke please, and for the love of god, keep them coming." You sigh. After your comment you see the slightest hint of a smile appear on his lips, disappearing even quicker than it came.

"Bad day?" He asks, beginning to pour your drink.

"Bad relationship." You groan. He nods his head as he slides your drink towards you.

"Wanna talk about it?" He asks, leaning on the bar with his chin resting on his hands as he waits for you to speak. You look into his eyes, and they're so warm and mesmerizing, you felt safe and secure, like you could tell him anything. Which is exactly what you did.

"What's your name?" You ask.

"Hongjoong." He replies. "You?"

"Y/N."

"Okay Y/N, what's bothering you?"

"My boyfriend, we've been together for just over a year, and well.. he's something, and not the good something like people usually say. He moved in with me, without even asking me if I wanted to, and I just kind of accepted it. He doesn't pay anything, no bills, rent, groceries, nothing. It's all on me, even though he does work full time. He forgot my birthday, went out and got absolutely plastered with his 'boys'. On Valentine's Day, he took me out for dinner, and can you guess who was there?" You ask.

"His boys?" He answered.

"You sir, are correct. I was ignored the entire evening, and then he and his boys left, I ended up paying the bill, and I had to uber home because he had driven us there. Not to mention the fact that he assumes I'm just there for his pleasure, expecting me to be spread eagle for him whenever he decides to show up." You finish, chugging your drink as you try not to gag on the strong taste of vodka.

"Why are you with him then? He doesn't sound like he contributes to the relationship at all, so why do you stay?" He asks.

'Honestly, I'm not entirely sure." You answer as he slides another drink in front of you.

"Now that's a bullshit excuse." He replies. "There's a reason that you clearly don't want to admit."

"Do you ever smile?" You ask him.

"No." He answers. "Now, why won't you leave him?"

"Because it's safe, I guess? I don't know if I can do any better than him." You shrug.

"Y/N, you have no idea how much better you could do." He says.

From the moment Hongjoong had a whiff of the scent that was coming into his bar, he knew that it was the scent of the one. He intensely watched the door, waiting for the one it belonged too to walk through the door. As soon as you did, it was almost as though his heart could have started beating once again, the ice cold blood that ran through his body could have turned warm just by the sight of you. He isn't sure what it is about you, but he had always been told that he would know when he found the one, and having been alive for over a century, he had just assumed that it wasn't in the cards for him, and now he knows why. Because all his life he had been waiting for you. The person that he would do anything for, the person that he would be anything for had finally walked into his life, and for once he felt an ounce of hope, until, you had mentioned the filthy human you were in a relationship with, not to mention one that treated you like absolute garage, and you had assumed that no one better would love you, but shit were you ever wrong. He was standing right in front of you, and though you had just met him, he loved you with everything he had and would do anything and everything to protect you.

"I appreciate your advice, Hongjoong, but it's getting late and I have to work tomorrow." You sigh. "How much do I owe you?" You ask, grabbing your card from your wallet.

"It's on me." He tells you, grabbing your empty glass.

"Well thank you." You smile. "It was nice meeting you." You tell him as you slide off the stool.

"You too." He says, watching you walk away from him.

That night when you got home, you couldn't get Hongjoong off your mind, a smile spread across your face as you walked through your front door, and headed into the living room, then it instantly dropped. Chad had not moved from the spot you had previously left him in a few hours ago. "Oh, babe." He says, sucking the cheeto dust from his fingers. "Kyle brought me some snacks, since you threw a huge temper tantrum about my snacks, you can just venmo or cash app him, k?" He says, going back to playing his game.

You went to bed that night, dreaming of one man, who was not your man.

Over the next few weeks, you had absolutely no desire to be at home. So you headed to the bar that Hongjoong worked at, everyday after work for a drink, or two, or four. In those weeks the two of you spent an ample amount of time getting to know each other, you were sure he knew you better than Chad ever did. You didn't want to see Chad, you didn't want to be near him and it was bad enough that he constantly texted you throughout the day, sending you lists of things to buy from the grocery store, as if he wasn't able to do it himself. But much to your surprise, he didn't text you when you never came home with his snacks, he didn't check in with you throughout the day, and honestly it no longer bothered you.

You felt your feelings for Hongjoong deepen with every encounter the two of you had, every time you saw him it was like nothing you had ever felt with Chad, your emotions were amplified around Hongjoong and you weren't sure how much longer you could keep them hidden.

"One more." You tell Hongjoong, as you set down your fourth glass.

You can tell he wants to smile, but he's too good at controlling his emotions. "You've had enough, I'm cutting you off." He tells you.

You pout, trying to give him your best puppy dog eyes, but absolutely nothing got to the man and it was frustrating as fuck.

"A bad storm is coming, you should probably get home." He tells you, drying off some glasses.

"I don't want to go home, he's there." You scoff, just thinking about Chad made you want to vomit. "I guess I could just get a motel room, at that place across the street." You say, pointing over to the run down motel, that had flickering lights, and probably a rat and cockroach infestation.

"You will do no such thing." Hongjoong replies. "You can stay at my place." He says. "Give me a minute." He walks from around the bar, towards the back of the building, and you can't help but to turn in your stool and watch him walk away, damn he looks good.

Within seconds he's back, grabbing your bag and scooping you up into his arms as he effortlessly carries you out the door.

"I can walk." You object.

"I know." He says, his face stone cold.

"You're very pale." You tell him, as if he didn't know.

"I know." He replies, unlocking the door to his car.

"And you're very cold." You say.

He sighs. "I know." He finishes as he slides you into the passenger seat of his car.

As soon as he started his car, the rain began pouring as thunder and lightning jolted the sky.

"You were right, there's a storm." You say, watching out your window.

"I know." He replies, this time it sounded different. You turned to look at him, hoping you'd catch him smiling but no such luck.

He continues driving, taking you out into the middle of nowhere, out of city limits, this was it, this was probably when you died. You panicked slightly but you felt it in your entire body that he was not going to murder you, at least not that night.

Hongjoong pulls up to a gate, punching in a few numbers to open the gate, which just blocked off a winding road. You squinted as you tried to see where you were going but it was far too dark for you to see anything, until you pulled up to a beautiful mid-century mansion that made your mouth drop. It was absolutely stunning and you couldn't believe that he lived there.

"Seriously? This is where you live?" You say.

"MY family, but yeah." He answers, parking the car near the entrance.

He hops out of his seat, walking towards your side to open the door for you, pulling you inside before you get too wet. He dragged you up a large flight of stairs, not letting you admire the inside of his house. He put you inside a large room, with a large bed and a bathroom ensuite. "There's towels if you want to shower, I'll be back in a bit to check on you." He says, avoiding all eye contact before walking out of the room.

You let out a deep breath as you take off your heels, unbutton your pants and unhook your bra, placing it all next to the bed. You sit down on the bed in your underwear and t-shirt, wondering what to do, until your phone rings.

Looking at the caller ID, you didn't want to answer it, but you felt it would be unfair for you to do so.

"Hello?" You answer.

"Hey babe, it's me.. it's Chad." He says.

"I know who it is." You sigh.

"Look.. I know you've been terrible, oh, wait, I mean I've been terrible in our relationship lately but I want to make almonds." He says. "No idiot, it's amends." You hear from the background.

"Are you kidding me right now? Do you seriously have Brad over to help you?" You yell.

"Well yeah, he noticed that we were drifting apart and offered to help me get you back." Chad explains.

You get up off the bed, pacing on the hardwood floors as you tried to process what he just said to you.

"The fact that you didn't even notice that we were drifting apart is all that I need to hear. You know what, Chad? I'm done. I'm done with this relationship, I'm done with you. Just get out of my apartment, I'm over it." You yell, hanging up the phone.

You stand there, taking deep breaths as you replay the conversation you just had, he didn't even care enough to notice that you'd been pulling away. That kind of hurt, but then again it was Chad. He was never very perceptive.

A knock at the door before it suddenly opens, reveals Hongjoong, walking into the room. He tried to play it cool with the fact that you were practically naked in front of it.

"I heard yelling. You okay?" He asks as lightning strikes, causing the power to flicker.

"Chad called, he had his friend Brad over to feed him lines because Brad noticed we were drifting apart." You explain. "But I did it. I ended things." You proudly admit.

"Good for you." He says, staring at you, while you stare back at him. A crack of thunder hits loudly, making you jump, and within seconds Hongjoong's arms are wrapped around you, like he was protecting you. You look at him and he looks at you, and before you can tell yourself not to, your lips are pressed against him, and he is kissing you back.

The kiss turns passionate and needy in seconds, both of your desires for one another coming out without any control. He moves you both to the bed, laying you down as he hovers over you, his strong arms keeping him above you. You wrap your arms and legs around him, pulling his body closer to yours, feeling him near was all you'd wanted. His ice cold fingers touch your stomach as he begins to lift your shirt up, you can feel his cock slowly becoming harder. You begin lifting his shirt, when his phone rings. He stands up, whispering an apology before answering his phone, barely speaking any words.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I have some things to take care of." He says.

"Oh, yeah, no problem." You say, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Get some sleep." He tells you before walking out of the bedroom door, leaving you alone once again.

You tried to fight the exhaustion you felt, but it was far too hard. You got snuggled underneath the blankets, watching the door, hoping he would come back but your eyelids got too heavy for you to keep open, and you swiftly drifted off to sleep, finally feeling some peace.

The warm sun was shining into the room, waking you up. You let out a little stretch before opening your eyes, only to see five men standing around you. You sit up, moving to the wall, as these men stare at you. You looked at them all, and they all looked similar to Hongjoong. Pale skin, dark eyes, dark head, blood red lips.

"Who are you?" One of them asks.

"Y/N." You whisper.

Another one speaks up, looking at the other four men. "Who the fuck brought a human home?"

#kpopscape #noonasinnetwork #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong #kim hongjoong #vampire hongjoong #ateez #vampire ateez #ateez imagines #ateez smut #hongjoong smut #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop writing #kpop icons #kpop imagines #kpop smut

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neo-nomatrix · 2 years

Text

Are you real? Oikawa Tooru x reader

-Warnings: Angst, implied age gap (reader is in their early twenties and Tooru is a little younger than 30) swearing-

Word count: a little over 1.5k

Inspired by Taylor Swifts “All Too Well” short film

“Tooru, be honest, are you real?” you ask, staring into his eyes.

“What's that supposed to mean?” he laughs, slipping his fingers into yours.

“I don't know, I just feel like I made you up.”

—

One memory you had always kept close was when you had first seen Toorus's childhood home. The air was crisp and cold, but some part of the house welcomed you with warmth and brought a smile to your face. The crimson scarf you had wrapped around your neck found its place hanging on the stair railing.

Even now Tooru had kept it in his drawer, seeing the red pop out every time he opened it.

Not many days after he had taken you upstate to a riverside forest, the newly autumn air nipped at your skin, forcing you to stay close to Tooru, your hands in his almost the entire time.

You can still picture the scene after years have gone by.

He walked you out to the one open spot in the forest, just sat above the river, the sun casted its glow onto the water.

His hand is brought up to your face, you can't help but lean into the warmth it brought you. He pulls you closer to him, his lips press against yours. Your hand trails to his bicep while his comes down to you jaw, he was holding you as close as possible, like he was about to lose you at any second,

Every part of you remembers it all too well.

You felt so happy, so young, so naive at that moment. How fleeting that feeling was.

It was one of the many cracks in the relationship, if you were to take a guess you’d say it was the first.

Tooru hadn't seen his friends from Seijoh since he graduated, undoubtedly he was excited but this? You couldn't have expected this. The entire night he hadn't looked at you, hadn't even acknowledged your presence. If he wouldn't pay attention to you, maybe you needed to make the first move, the second he let go of his wine glass and set his hand down you put yours on top of his. Yet he gripped your hand, moved it to where it was before and let go, returning his hand to his wine glass. Throughout that “interaction” he still hadn’t looked at you. You were taken aback to be quite honest, he blatantly ignored you, even when you two had a disagreement in the past he had never done something like that.

You had stayed quiet until you and Tooru were alone washing dishes. By now everyone had left, but you still felt a little uneasy being around him.

“Are you pissed off right now?” he asks looking at you for the first time this night

“I'm not pissed off, what makes you think I'm pissed off?”

“You’re acting pissed off, that's why,” he explains, “it's ridiculous, those were my friends, you barely said a word to them. They were so fucking nice to you too.”

“I like your friends, I really do. But i really didn't like how you acted around them,” you set down the plate you were cleaning to look at him.

“Oh, really? You were being shy and quiet the entire time!” his eyes widen and his lips purse as he says it.

You knew no one in that room besides him, you thought it was perfectly reasonable to be quiet.

“You never talked to me the whole night! You didn't even look at me, Tooru!” your voice raises more than you wanted it to.

“That is such bullshit,” Tooru mumbles, not quite enough for you to not hear him.

“You dropped my hand! You literally ignored me!” you say, scoffing.

“What are you talking about? I dont even fucking remember that!” He complains.

“I feel so out of place there, they’re all older than me, you are the only person there I know! What do you want me to do when you’re ignoring me?” Tears nearly build up in your eyes, yet you refuse to allow yourself to cry right now.

“I was catching up with people I haven't seen in like 10 years! Even if I did do that, which I doubt I did, it wasn't on purpose!” He tries to defend himself.

“You were making me feel stupid out there!” you say, finally finding the words you’ve been looking for.

“Honestly I think you're making yourself feel that way, I don't even remember doing any of that!” He says, running his hands through his hair.

“You know, you're acting really selfish right now,” he says after a few moments of silence.

“Oh I’m acting selfish right now?” Your eyes start to brim with tears again.

“C’mon, don’t look at me like that.” His eyes shift to focus on something, anything else besides your tearful eyes.

You turn around to the sink, resting your hands on the counter, looking down while biting the inside of your cheek.

“Hey, hey, I don’t wanna fight, okay?” Tooru says, wrapping his hands around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

Your hand still rests on your cheek, wiping away the fallen tears. Your head tilts back onto his shoulder as you let out a small sob. He kisses the top of your head, a trail of “I’m sorry” being let out.

You turn around to meet his eyes, your lips are pursed together and he kisses your forehead, maybe you can let this time go.

The days that follow seemed to be perfect, only arguing about things like what the crossword answer was. The nights spent in front of the fireplace eating alfajores Tooru had learned to make while in Argentina. You danced in the kitchen listening to Nuestra Cancion while Tooru sang along, the light from the refrigerator shining on his face.

Yet, these days were fleeting.

“If we were closer in age it might have worked out better,” Tooru said, rubbing his hand against his neck.

This wasn’t how you wanted to end the night

You walked into his room and saw him staring down at the floor.

“Is something wrong?” You asked him. He had asked you to sit down as he had something to tell you.

“We need to break up,” the smile on your face faltered, your eyes turning wide.

Did you ask for too much? Did you say something that he didn’t get? Did you do something? For years you thought it was yourself who was the problem, and how wrong you were.

“We’re too different, maybe if our age gap was only a year we’d be okay,” he said, not daring to look you in the eyes.

“Our age gap?! That’s what this is about? That’s fucking insane, this has nothing to do with our age! This has to do with us, it’s you or me who’s the problem, not our age,” you yell at him, upset and on the verge of a breakdown at the same time.

You remember it all too well.

Only a few hours after him getting out of the house he wouldn’t stop calling you. Your phone vibrated the bed as you sobbed into the pillow, unaware of what to do now. Your chest pained, you had no clue if it was because of your crying or the pain of remembering Tooru.

It was your art that kept you going, your paintings that were hung up in galleries that kept you on your feet. Yet, at every show you felt alone in your own exhibit. You knew no one there, you felt so alone in a room of people.

Your 21st birthday was supposed to be fun, right? You couldn’t help but miss Tooru, you couldn’t help but want him hugging you while you blew out the candles.

Tooru knew it was a mistake, he knew he missed you, and craved you every day. He also knew his own words tore you apart. That crimson scarf you had left still laid in his drawer. He kept it because it reminded him of when you were his. It still smelled like you and on days he sometimes needed you he would turn to the scarf.

God, he wished you were still his.

He took so much of you for granted, every day he’s reminded of how stupid that was of him.

Less than a year had passed and you were finally revealing the piece you had been pouring your heart and soul into for the last year. You had this date set for a while, it was something Tooru knew far too much about. He had the date saved in his calendar, ready to see your art when the day came.

Yet, he found himself not being able to go in. Your scarf wrapped around his neck while he started into the window, staring at your smiling face. Your smile lit up the room like it always had. It was honestly a toss up between if you were the art or if the canvas that stood beside you was.

God, he wishes you were still his. Every kiss, every loving moment, every date had run through his head hundreds of times. It’s pathetic really, how he’ll pretend what you had is still real, that he never made the mistake of giving you up.

He remembers everything you had all too well.

#neos drabbles #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu angst #haikyuu!! x reader #hq!! angst #oikawa toru x you #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa x you #oikawa angst #oikawa x reader

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brownflower23 · 3 years

Text

Not My Father

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

*Mature Content Warning*

Summary: Reader gets arrested at a bar. Her boss comes to save her, but after months of frustration she doesn't get the response she expects. However, she receives much more than she can handle.

"That pervert is lucky all I did was break his nose" You roll your eyes at officer idiot questioning you. Treating you as some sort of criminal, when in actuality you put the worst of criminals away. "Well we called your supervisor; you can take it up with him" The officer snickered, a lump instantly formed in your throat.

"You called who?" You yell at the dumbstruck officer in front of you, clearly not expecting your panicked response. Just after the words left your mouth, your boss crossed the barrier into the holding room. Your stomach instantly flipped, as if you had been caught by a parent as a child. Your eyes meeting his; he stared with the same scolding glare you were expecting. The same look you'd seen many times; it always gave you chills. However, you had never been the one sitting on this side of the table feeling its full force. He folded his arms tightly over his broad chest, eyes lingering at the cuffs connected to your wrist.

At that moment, you couldn't find words to defend what he was seeing, you could only imagine his thoughts. Your barely appropriate dress, your makeup, unlike anything he had seen at work. He finally peeled his eyes off of you, somehow that making you feel even worse.

"Please remove the cuffs, I can handle it from here. Thank you again for the call." Hotch finally spoke, but only to the officer, nodding to him. He returned the nod and quickly walked over removing your restraints.

"Thanks." You gripped at the idiot who arrested you, rolling your eyes at him again. Hotch shot you a warning glare, causing you to sigh while massaging your wrists. This night was utter bullshit. The officer finally left the room, you stood expecting to follow.

"Where do you think you're going?" His stern voice forcing your body to freeze, sending chills down your entire spine. "Um, I thought I was allowed to leave." You replied without looking directly at him, you didn't think you could handle it right now. "You have nothing to say for yourself?" Hotch scoffed.

"I'm sorry?" You questioned, failing to sound sincere. He doesn't respond this time, after an uncomfortable moment of silence you finally looked to meet his stare. He let out a frustrated sigh "Let's go. Before I change my mind." He cautions before leading us through the police station, again thanking the captain and same officer.

"Where is my car?" You ask once outside after you were returned your phone and I.D. "I'm guessing still at the bar you were picked up at, or by now at a towing company. You can deal with that in the morning, get in." He answers not stopping his strides toward the black SUV. You hurry to enter, afraid he might leave you here, the cool night air sending additional chills over your body, still buzzing from earlier.

The ride has an eerie silence, you had never made Hotch this mad at you, the feeling honestly made you want to hurl. You notice you aren't familiar with the street signs you were passing. "Can I ask where we are going?" You break the silence. "My place." He answers blankly, not removing his attention from the road. "Why?" You dare to question. "Because it is late, and you were picked up from a bar." He shot back gripping the steering wheel tighter, not seeming to give you another option.

After ten more agonizing minutes, he finally pulls into a parking garage. You quickly jump out of the car, following Hotch through a few hallways. You felt a wave of awkwardness once he finally stopped at the door. He quickly unlocked it and opened the door for you. You look at the open door, feeling like it was a threshold you shouldn't enter.

"Look I'm fine, I can call a cab to take me to my car." You insist, still not crossing the threshold. "No. You shouldn't be driving, you can stay here." He replied like it was an order. "We aren't at work." You spat not believing him. "Lower your voice, your yelling will wake others." He corrected you again, you noticing the clenching of his jaw. You groaned pushing past him into the apartment.

"Look I appreciate this but.." you start to continue your previous argument but his deep voice cuts you off. "You're correct agent, we are not at work. Meaning, that I did not have to leave my home in the middle of the night, coming to save you from being thrown in jail. You're lucky Jack is away or you would've been there until Monday." He chastised you again, but this time he was right. Although; still being a dick to you of all people.

"I didn't ask you to, I didn't even tell them I was an agent so don't try to make me feel guilty." You plead your case as he began to walk away. "I'm not trying to make you feel anything, maybe if you had more control of your actions you wouldn't be in this situation." He argues turning back in your direction. You finally noticed his different appearance, no jacket or tie, but jeans with an athletic shirt, his hair not styled but falling casually onto his face.

"I don't even want to be in this situation, I'll just go to my car." You huff turning back walking to the door. You just reached the handle, when a large hand came in your line of sight, pushing against the door.

"I'm not letting you leave like this. I don't know your mental state." You hear spoken close behind you. You spin on your heels, slightly taken back by how close your boss was to you. "I promise I'm fine. I wasn't drunk, and it's been hours." You roll your eyes again. "Obviously not, I have never seen you act like this." His voice was desperately trying to hide his frustration with you for the evening, you could see his chest rising against the fitted shirt.

"What? Not perfectly following your orders? Not everyone is perfect like you Hotch." You were yelling at this point, and you didn't care. You had never seen a person with more patience and composure than Hotch, but you finally broke him. "You allegedly assaulted someone at a bar drunk, get arrested, risk your career, the reputation of the BAU, and my credibility as Supervisor. You honestly think you should go back out right now?" He yelled back shocking you, feeling his minty breath fan across your face.

"You don't even know my side of the story!" You gasp at his assumptions. "How am I supposed to when you wouldn't tell me?" He hisses, still holding his same position, you had never seen such fire in his eyes.

"You are not my fucking father Hotch" You yell again, refusing to let him overpower you.

Your back hit the door with a thud, causing you to groan into his mouth. His hands gripping onto your hips roughly, pulling your bodies as close as possible. One of your hands latching his shoulder to steady yourself, while your other tugged at his soft hair.

"Then stop being a damn brat" He all out growls directly in your face, not missing a beat. Your not sure who moves first, you honestly think it was instantaneous, but before you blinked your mouths clash desperately, hands frantically grasping onto wherever you could reach first.

You purposely tugged harder, retrieving a groan from him, hearing it igniting a hunger in you. His lips slightly parted, so you took advantage sliding your tongue over his, still determined not to be overpowered.

Your control is short-lived, as he shifts his leg up, making you gasp at the contact, your head craning against the cold door. Even on your tiptoes, you couldn't relieve the pressure, perching you upon his thick thigh, causing your dress to bunch leaving only your damp underwear as a barrier.

"Did you think after your little game, I'd let you control me, sweetheart?" He huffs against your ear, in an even deeper tone than he usually held. You had never been affected by a pet name, but just coming from him made your walls clench, further agonizing you. You finally open your eyes, batting up at his dark eyes innocently. "I don't know what you mean" you smirk. You felt a low chuckle in his chest, and then you were swiftly moved, flipping you to face the door.

"I'm having a hard time believing that y/n. You've spent months purposely teasing and frustrating me. This..." he pauses his sentence, using his foot to spread your ankles, gripping your wrist together. "Is exactly what you wanted correct?" He completes the question as a whisper against your ear, making you shutter against him. You weren't giving in that easy.

"I honestly didn't think you had it in you...old man." You further push him, knowing your slight age difference being one of the things you regularly tease him about. He groans lowly at your words, pushing you harder against the door. "I still remember exactly how to handle a brat like you"

He punctuates the end of his sentence by effortlessly ripping your thin underwear from under your skirt, throwing the torn fabric to the floor. You shook at the cool air hitting your core, finally noticing how wet you were. His fingers brush over your center, gently spreading your arousal. You bite your lip to keep in the moans your body desperately want to release.

"Then why are you so wet for me sweetheart, hum?" Hotch hums in your ear, pushing his thick finger slowly into your pussy. You don't bother trying to hold in your moans this time, overwhelmed by the feeling of your muscles clenching around this finger, attempting to take it as deep as possible.

As if a single finger wasn't enough, he added a second stretching you delightfully. You scratch against his hand, as if some sort of plea, but the last thing you wanted was for him to stop as you could feel the pleasure building in your stomach. "Something wrong?" He coos arrogantly, watching your face morphing, as your pants of pleasure increase.

"Nothing" You manage to smart back without it sounding completely of a moan. By this point, you drenched his fingers, coating them entirely, letting him fuck his fingers into you as fast as he pleased. You hear a faint growl come deep from Hotch's chest, almost sounding frustrated. "Don't you lie to me; If you are not honest you don't get what you want sweetheart" "And what do I want?" You laugh through a heavy breath.

He shifts an unoccupied finger up to graze your clit every time his fingers plunge into you, making you gasp against the cold door. He leans down to your neck, tickling your skin with his beard. "To be fucked like you wish those boys you entertain would fuck you." Hearing your boss talk like that sends you spiraling, throwing your head back onto his chest to support you as your legs began to feel weak. Just as you clench around his fingers he retracts them, leaving you dripping down your thigh, craving satisfaction.

"What the fuck?" You yell spinning quickly to face him, he catches you by the neck placing you against the door again. Your breath caught, you felt like you didn't have a voice with his large hand around your throat. The way he was staring at you, like his prey. It made your knees weak.

He lifts his other hand between your bodies, you could see his middle fingers glistening. He keeps his eyes nailed to yours, you still trying to calm your pathetic pants. Your mouth gapes as you watch him take the fingers in his mouth, he groans out twirling his tongue, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment savoring your taste. You were fucked.

He removes his fingers slowly, still watching you staring at him with big doe eyes. Then wiping the edge of his mouth with his hand. "Watch it, sweetheart. I'm not sure if you haven't caught on... but I always give the orders. You will not cum until I allow." You whimper loudly at his declaration, you had never had a man command you like this, but you couldn't deny the effect it was having on your body.

"I'll do what you say." You whisper, barely audible, looking away from his eyes. Loosening his hand on your neck, using it to make you look back up to him. A faint smirk now played at the corner of his lips. "What was that?" He lightly chuckles. You suppress the urge to roll your eyes.

"I said I'll do what you say. Happy?" You return the smirk. "Hmm, honestly I thought you'd be harder to break. I think you're just trying to get what you want." He informs you, moving his face closer to yours. You shrug your shoulders innocently. "Is it working?" You breathe against his lips before gripping onto his shirt pulling him flush against you.

His mouth explores yours again; it's without a doubt the best kiss of your life. He was so skilled in his movements, and how he taunted you with his hands without actually pleasuring you. Maybe you had been dealing with boys before.

Hotch gripping into your hips, lifting you slightly before walking your bodies away from the door. You hardly notice he was moving you until your legs hit the back of a couch. He instantly spun you around making you a bit dizzy, folding you at the waist over the couch.

You couldn't help the smirk that grew on your face hearing the chime of his belt buckle, you were getting exactly what you wanted. "I wouldn't gloat so quickly y/n" Hotch warns. You try to look back to observe but cannot move from him keeping a hand on your neck, pushing your chest into the oversized cushion.

"And I shouldn't because?" You entertain his warning. "Because this" is the only answer he provides, and you then feel the pressure. That of him forcing his cock in you with a single plunge, burying himself to your brim, ripping through any defiance left in you.

"Aaron!" You scream out his first name, gasping for the air he just knocked from your stomach. He was massive, stretching you uncomfortably, you didn't have to see it to know you had never taken a cock this big. You were also sinfully a sucker for pain.

"Fuck" he groans above you, surly your tightness was affecting him also. You knew that he rammed into you purposely, not wanting you to be able to conform to his size before punishing you.

He made the single motion again, burying himself again and stopping, making you cry out again. "What's wrong sweetheart? A brat like you can take it right?" His breathing is labored now, one hand still tightly holding you down, the other now roughly gripping your hip. He repeats the same hard single thrust, you can feel tears building at your lashes. The way he filled you was overwhelming.

"Please" you beg, squirming under him. You weren't sure what you were begging for at this point, you just needed him. Every time he stills you could feel his cock pulsing deep in you, not delivering enough pleasure to relieve you, but only to further drive you mad.

"Oh, now you want to do what you're told huh? Now you beg like a pathetic whore." He responds with another snap of his hips. You couldn't take much more, you felt as if you could combust at any second. "Aaron I can't..please" you cry, feeling the tears stream over your face, he had finally broken you.

"Go ahead baby, call me what you really want. Go ahead." He groans, pulling your head back by a fist full of your hair. He didn't have to say it, you knew exactly what he meant, and he knew you wanted it. So you let everything out, all the months of frustration boiling over.

"Daddy, please...I'm yours...please" You wish you could've recorded the sound that escaped Aaron at that moment, a loud groan mixed with a needy whine. Matched by feeling his cock twitch inside you, struggling to stay composed hearing that name.

He throws his hips into you again, but this time it follows with another quick thrust, over and over, filling the room with a slapping noise and your moans. He keeps your hair pulled back, making your body hold the arch for him to angle deeper, brushing your g spot with each hard thrust.

"Yes yes yes, don't stop" You scream, him finally giving you what you needed. "Can you take it, baby? You're so damn tight" He grunts, you weren't going to last with him calling you baby. "Yes, daddy, harder please" you plea, wanting him to ruin you. He grants your wish, fucking you harder, you gasping feeling it all the way in your stomach. You would certainly be bruised tomorrow, but the pain would be worth it.

"Fuck daddy. So good... so fucking deep." You cry, feeling your body begin to tingle, your legs shaking against him. He groans feeling you tightening "Cum for daddy sweetheart." He encourages through his heavy breaths, and that's all it takes to make your body snap. He slows his motions slightly letting you ride out your orgasm, your walls still fluttering around his thick cock.

He releases your head, you not having the energy to stay upright you letting it hang down against the couch. "Shit that's was amazing" You whisper, causing him to chuckle and slowly begin to move into you again. Your eyes flash open realizing he still hadn't finished.

"Aaron I can't" you whine, your body couldn't possibly take more of this. "Oh I'm not finished, and neither are you" He growls in your ear, you couldn't help but moan out at his tone. "I can't take anymore" You whine again, only fueling him. He releases the hand that was holding you, now gripping onto both of your hips harshly, definitely leaving a mark. There was no reason to restrain you anymore, he knew you were his.

Hotch returns to the same pace he held previously, causing your eyes to roll back as you yelp, grasping onto the couch for dear life it felt. "Don't forget your place sweetheart. You're done when I say brat..." he pauses his sentence, repositioning one of his hands to your front. "And I think you can give me one more." He states as he set fire to your body rubbing fiercely over your clit, steadily pushing himself deep, determined to make you unravel again.

"Daddy" You scream, feeling your body giving in to him, his thrust becoming frantic, his moans become beastly with each thrust. "Give it to me y/n. Ahh... fuck. I know you want to baby." Is his final pleasuring cry to take you with him, as he made a final slap against your body to sheathe himself fully.

"Oh, Aaron" Is all you can cry as the air hitches in your throat. All at once, your body erupts again, feeling him filling you with his seed. Grasping onto him to anchor yourself to reality, uncertain this level if euphoria is real, or if you'll ever get to relive it again.

Drained of any energy, your body collapses into his, feeling his arms catch you and lifting you sweetly into his embrace. Although; unable to open your eyes, you feel him carefully carrying you, and then the soft cushion of a bed. You weren't sure how long he was gone, but your body slightly jumps at the feeling of a wet cloth between your thighs.

"Wha..what are you doing?" You mutter against a pillow and hear him softly laugh at you. "I've got you, sweetheart, just rest" He replies in a very tender voice. He softly wipes your leg, erasing the proof of your shared pleasure. Even half-conscious you had never felt so adored. Following; you feel him slide the heels off your feet, and then tug at the end of your dress to remove it. Your dress is finally off, and you feel it would be silly to care about after the deed you two just committed.

You are only naked for a couple of seconds before he wiggles a soft t-shirt over your body, oversized enough to be a nightgown. It smells strongly of him, which comforted you, but not as much as him pulling you into his bare chest, kissing your forehead just as you slip into an exhausted sleep.

Please let me know if this should be turned into a short series! Thanks loves!

#aaron hotchner #hotch #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #Smut #ssa hotchner #hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x y/n #thomas gibson #thomas gibson x reader

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jeojahari · 3 years

Text

03 | kiss it better | myg

🠒 summary: you're one of the lucky ones, everyone else tells you. finding your soulmate the day you turn 18 isn't something that happens to a lot of people... but you and your other half are going to have to make a lot of progress to be able to tolerate each other.

or, you and yoongi can feel everything the other feels, and you're hell bent on causing each other pain.

🠒 pairing: yoongi x reader

🠒 genre: angst, fluff, e2l!au, soulmates!au, college au, crack?

🠒 warnings: profanity, implied smut

🠒 word count: 1.9K

🠒 notes: Y'ALL i can't with you guys thank you so much oh my gosh 🥺❤️❤️ thank you so much for sticking with this! *is very honored and touched* hope you enjoy this chapter :D

also! from here on out i'm going to start putting in parts from yoongi's pov too so y'all can get an idea of what's going on in his head c:

also, just a little shout out to an anon whom i got a very comforting, uplifting message from... thank you so much anon! this part is going to be last-minute dedicated to you ❤️❤️

part 03: three roses

series m. list

Yoongi’s only met you two days ago, and yet he can’t get you off his mind.

“It’s probably just a soulmate thing,” his roommate tells him, typing away at his laptop — the paper is due in half an hour, and he is rushing to get it done. Procrastination has time and again proven to be a horrible habit, but he never does let go of it.. “Regardless of how you feel about her, the universe decides who you’re stuck with.”

“It’s not like that, Jin,” Yoongi groans. “I’m not saying I don’t ever want to be with her. I’m saying it wouldn’t hurt to give it a shot, if she would just let it happen.”

Jin spins around on his chair, giving his friend a curious look. “What did you even say the first time you met her that made her hate you this much?”

“I, um.” Yoongi shifts around, suddenly aware of how cold he must have seemed to you that day, way before you turned eighteen and knew what the future was to hold. “Told her not to waste oxygen. And left.”

“Wow. So in a nutshell, you fucked up.”

“I did.”

“And she hates you for being an antisocial grump.”

“I’m not! But yes, she does.”

Jin proceeds to take another sip from his mug of (now cold) tea, deep in thought. “You gonna tell me who the mystery girl is?”

“Park Y/N,” Yoongi winces as he says your name, not liking the way it easily rolls off his tongue, or the kaleidoscope of butterflies it sets off in his stomach — or the way his heart seems to skip a beat at the thought of you. He doesn’t want it to, but what can he do? “You know, the one who rooms with Park Jimin from the arts department. They’re not related, though.”

“The Y/N who has an impossibly obvious crush on Jimin’s cousin? Taehyung, right?”

Yoongi chuckles, staring at the blank white wall. “I’m pretty sure there’s only one Y/N in this entire school, but yes. That’s her.”

“So you two don’t get along and she has a thing for another guy. Man, the universe really fucked up, didn’t it?”

“And you’re not helping right now,” Yoongi scoffs, scribbling down another abstract equation on his paper. “The goal is not to make her fall in love with me, dumbass.”

“But that’s precisely what the goal is! She falls in love with you, you date, get married, have kids, you know the deal. Happily ever after.”

“I think you’re forgetting the part about me not liking her at all.”

“That can change, can’t it?” Jin swivels around in his chair, eyes wide and hopeful. “What’s stopping you from falling head over heels for her a week or so from now? You two are already bound; it can’t be that hard.”

Yoongi presses his pen to the paper again, but a sharp stinging sensation makes him flinch backwards, curling his index finger inward. “Stupid,” he mutters, wincing. “Y/N seriously has a thing for giving herself paper cuts on the daily.”

“See?” Jin grins widely, feeling very accomplished for no reason at all. “You’re already worried about her well-being!”

“The only reason I even care is because I feel it too!” Seconds later, another twinge of pain comes, this time shooting through his head. “Ow,” he groans, frustrated. “Really? Are we seriously going back to this now? What’s she doing this time, banging her head on the wall to get on my nerves?”

Jin drains the rest of tea in one gulp, side-eyeing the shorter male from his spot at the desk. “Figure it out, my guy,” he says under his breath. Whether he likes it or not, he’s concerned about his friend — though he knows that if he brings it up, Yoongi’s only going to chide him for being so worried. “Second chances don’t come often. Don’t screw this one up.”

The study group meets again (is this a daily thing now?), and much to Yoongi’s surprise, you’re there without fail, squeezed in between Jimin and another guy he doesn’t think he’s ever seen before. As Taehyung grabs his hand and yanks him down onto the bench, he notices the slightly pissed off glare you send him, too tired to return one of his own.

No one speaks, and it’s strange. It’s awfully awkward; usually Taehyung and Jungkook would be arguing over something stupid, and there would be yelling… but now, there is only complete silence, save for the rustling of pages and the occasional cough from Namjoon.

“Hey,” Jungkook whispers from his left after a few minutes, nudging his elbow as a greeting. “How come you’re not sitting with Y/N?”

“Huh?”

“Aren’t you two supposed to be together?” Ah, right. Once again, Yoongi curses fate’s horrible decision making skills, sending another why me? plea to the heavens.

“It’s fine,” he brushes it off instead, sorting through his books. He’s trying not to look like it affects him, but he’s always been rather terrible at hiding his frustration. “She has Jimin and that other dude anyways.”

Jungkook doesn’t look convinced. In fact, he sees right through the half-hearted lie. “You want to sit next to her,” he deduces quickly. “But you’re not. You two fought or something?”

“What would you know,” Yoongi mutters, irritated. “Of all people.”

Jungkook frowns slightly, but the merry twinkle doesn’t leave his eyes, the trademark of a person who’s just happy to live life. “What do you mean? I’m very experienced in these things, I’ll have you know.”

“Right, because fucking a different girl each night is your way of showing off your expertise.”

“Yoongi, I’m trying to help you. You two aren’t the best at covering up; we know you hate each other’s guts,” he sighs. “You need to talk to her, patch it up, do something—”

“Shut up,” Yoongi snaps sharply, thoughts distorted. His cantankerous mood is rising now, only worsening with every word he hears. “Shut up, Jungkook. You don’t fucking know anything.” His voice is loud enough to catch the attention of everyone else at the table, and he’s well aware of your worried eyes on him. “Stop trying to educate me on this bullshit called romance when all you fucking do is sleep around!”

The weight of his words hit Jungkook hard, and it’s written all over his face, shock and something like sorrow in his expression. Yoongi regrets it as soon as he says it, immediately wishing he could take it all back — but he doesn’t, because the anger, the pain, the empty, hollow feeling of having his soulmate near but unable to love her… it’s eating away at him.

Then he hears your voice, soft and gentle in contrast to his own, and it almost grounds him, calms the storm inside his head. Almost, except for the fact that your words are just as harsh, stinging him far more than expected. “You’re such an asshole,” you say, giving him nothing but a stare he can’t comprehend.

“Y/N—”

“Jungkook can do what he wants; he’s an adult and he’s not harming anyone. His actions do not justify yours,” you spit, the resent clear in the way you speak to him.

Have you always hated him so much?

“And neither of us have been particularly great about this, but you had no right to say that to him,” you continue, glowering. The rest of the table just sits there as you talk, still processing what just happened. “You fucking jerk.”

There’s a lot Yoongi wants to say to you. Explain. Redeem himself. Apologize, maybe, if you’ll let him — but he knows you won’t. It’s one of the things he’s picked up on in two days; you won’t listen to reason when you’re pissed off, and right now you’re certainly in no position to hear him out.

“Okay,” he mutters instead, rising from his seat and earning a worried look from Taehyung. He gives you one last look before he forces himself to look away, your heated gaze burning into him. “I’ll leave first, then.”

Jungkook left almost immediately after, and the rest of the group quickly followed suit. Now, you’re cozied up on the couch with a cup of green tea while Jimin works on what he couldn’t finish earlier, sitting beside you.

“Well,” he breaks the silence. “At least now you know that he’s somewhat invested in whatever’s between you two, if Jungkook was trying to give him advice.”

“That’s just Jungkook being invested,” you grumble. “Not Yoongi. The guy doesn’t even look like he cares.”

“Do you?”

The question makes you stop and think. Do you? Do you care enough to try? Growing up, you’d so strongly believed that love was only ever a temporary thing; it never stayed long enough to blossom into something beautiful the way it was portrayed in the media. You had always been surrounded by the dark side of this seemingly magical emotion, listening to your mother’s crying late at night when she thought you were asleep, to the point where you’d sworn it off.

But something in you wants to question it. You want to shatter that ominous what if, throw off the shadows of your own childhood and grow into something more, be able to experience the magic firsthand.

And really, Yoongi’s a fucking asshole and you’re still mad at him. But one day… maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t hurt to give it a try. Give him a try, a chance.

Still, it’s a “no” that you answer Jimin with, lying through your teeth. He doesn’t say anything, just humming a single note in response, his right hand doodling something mindlessly on your skin with one of his black ink pens. When he pulls away a minute later, there are three dainty roses resting in the valley between your thumb and index finger, clustered together in a bunch.

You hate roses. They do nothing but remind you of the one thing that hurt you the most.

“You know,” he says after a while, “I think you’re being a bit childish about this whole thing. Y/N, you two are acting like you’re in some kind of high school drama. You say you don’t like him, but for what? His coffee addiction and his personality?”

“You’re just making it sound worse than it really is…”

“No,” he presses, turning to face you directly. “I’m serious. You’re my best friend and I want to see you happy. Not you screwing this all up. People have differences, it’s normal.”

“It’s not about that—”

Jimin takes your hand, tapping it twice and then rapping his knuckles against the side of your head. “Y/N, you wonderful idiot. You don’t hate him. You’re just desperately searching for reasons to hate him.” His eyes soften. “I know you don’t like this because of how your parents ended up, but not everyone's the same. You don’t have anything to be afraid of.”

“I—” You stop for a second, a bit on edge. “I don’t like this, Jimin,” you say truthfully. You’ve always known it was bound to happen someday, but… the way your heart races around Yoongi and aches when he’s away both bothers and excites you, afraid at the prospect of more but still tempted to see what the future holds. And you can’t decide on either one.

“There you go. What were you waiting for?” he laughs, bringing you in for a comforting hug. “Now you’ve just got to do something about it.”

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#yoongi #yoongi soulmate au #yoongi enemies to lovers #yoongi college au #bts #bts fanfiction #bts college au #bts soulmate au #bts enemies to lovers #fluff #angst #crack?? idk #yoongi series #mine #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #part 3

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