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todayisafridaynight · 2 years ago

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INCREDIBLY FUNNY that I refused to settle for just saying "bread" but yes it was those! So in that sense, the lavish bread physics are integral to conveying how important the little things were in getting him through prison. Still, for the sake of the drip…...... perhaps sacrifices are needed...

But yeah, I'm thrilled you noticed those things about the evolution of Jo's design, too! It's super interesting to think about in terms of storytelling, I don't think you're inarticulate in saying that at all. Speaking of, I also just look up "holder" to find prev asks at this point lol

Jo and Ichi's dynamic is also a major topic of interest for me (as we've seen). I think a lot of what's going on with them is definitely some variation of "old habits die hard." That's natural when you form that kind of uneasy coexistence. But like you mentioned, it's also telling that Jo picked up the nickname in the first place, because I went back through the entire script, and it really is the case that only Arakawa, Masato, Jo, and the people who raised Ichi call him that. It's reserved for his family.

I think this line about Aoki (that I completely forgot about before looking at the script again lol) may also shed some light: "A long time ago, I knew him as the young master. He knew me as Ichi." Because they all do that, don't they? Ichi still says Captain, Boss, and Young Master, Jo still says Boss, Ichi, and Young Master, Aoki still says Dad and Ichi.

Even though on paper these relationships should've dissolved with Ichi being expelled, Masato becoming Aoki, and Jo taking over as second patriarch, to one another, they're all still who they used to be. And as an aspect of how they communicate, the "learned language" that forms in families, it stands out when they're all on the same page with the terms they choose to use.

This line from Ichi also stood out to me: "But my aniki taught me different. He said whoever makes the first move is the victor. The guy with steel balls wins." Like, that's clearly Jo, right? For one thing, the "flavor" of aniki is different from Captain, of course--one is directly an appointed post, and one is more open to interpretation--but it also clearly shows that Jo's imparted his "philosophy" to Ichi in some ways.

I think, to a degree, it's one of those holdovers from RGGO that wasn't fully implemented. Because they're more or less the same in RGGO in this regard, but RGGJo does outright say it makes him weirdly happy that Ichi still calls him Captain, so that's a clearer indicator and makes the idea feel more "complete."

With what I said before about their "learned language," too, the Arakawa Family has this way of saying goodbye that's specific to them, and I really miss it in Y7. It is referenced briefly, but it's not a "thing" like it was in RGGO. It's kinda like how The Gang in It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia greet each other with "Hey-ohhh!" LMAO idk but. I Enjoy. But that's also why it stood out to me that LaD8Jo greets Ichi the same way as Y7Jo and RGGJo.

ALSO that is so sick the author of Soliloquy saw your art…… incredible……….. + as an aside since I was reminded, it's very true that sometimes people seem to "fill in the blanks" with tropes, and my favorite is honestly when it's both funny and offensive. There was this whole "phase" (and to everyone's credit it was short-lived) of playing Mine up like this Huge Misogynist because he's not attracted to women, and it's WILD to recognize that he's gay but still pull up homophobic tropes for funsies.

Like I was mad at the time mostly on account of the mischaracterization (because come on, even if you've only seen Y3, he is still uncharacteristically soft with Katase… not that he wasn't INSANE for The Slap, but it also wasn't at all rooted in the same things as say, Nishiki slapping Reina might've been.) But it was funny. Perhaps not in the way it was intended to be, but it was funny. And, you know, that's why I'm happy to stay in my own little corner as well.

You coulda just said bread it's ok 😭 I WAS right though it WAS a carb......

On the subject of language though, it's def something I picked up on (if my last ask wasn't any indication lmao)! It's a real neat detail and something I think helps push that 'family' theme Y7 has going on (or at the very least demonstrates how despite the times changing, they still have those bonds with each other whether they acknowledge it or not), it definitely being a case of picking up a habit/term from family.

About tropes in fan works though, I can't act like I'm guiltless of it LMAO so I don't have too strong of a leg to stand on when it comes to criticizing it (and I can't lie, sometimes I do find playing into the trope funny if it's at least based on something from the text and it's just exaggerated For The Bit yeah). However I do think the strangest thing was linking misogyny and Mine (I made a post rambling about it but deleted it like. .3 seconds later) because nothing he does in either Y3 nor RGGO is explicitly misogynistic? In the slightest? And as we talked about before he's considerably pretty respectful towards women? Again, he surely did slap a little girl, but it wasn't because she was a girl you know (still cringe to do but if we're gonna talk about it let's do it right please and thank you). As you say though, pushing that trope onto Mine just feels like perpetuating the harmful stereotype that gay men hate women, and in cases like that then I can't really take the piss out of it without having a weird taste in my mouth.

#long post #snap cahts #on the note about language though..... you just reminded me that i wanted to make fun of jo for his particular usage of 'balls' ☠️☠️#like first time i was like fine. yk it's a common saying but then second time i was just Alright I Got It Champ Balls Are Crazy #and if jo really WAS the one to say that to ichi then like.. my guy.. three times is no longer a coincidence.. whole lotta talk bout balls.#in all seriousness though that much repetition from jo really does help confirm that the quote ichi says /is/ from him #and helps validate that bond they had. because sure jo's an asshole but it's clear ichi still took his words to heart #in that respect. i like that jo has a favorite term- its pretty human i guess you can say #cause yk we all have certain phrases or words we like to particularly use so its sweet to see that. in the funniest way possible but still #SORRY im five i still laugh at dick jokes anyways #NO NOT TO GET CONTROVERSIAL BUT ABOUT NISHIKI SLAPPING REINA i see so few people talk about it #and if they do they try to make reina seem like the villain and that nishiki was faultless for hitting her... like what...#i mean reina wasn't being nice in that scene but she was also upset about losing people she loved too..#like yeah nishiki hitting reina is diff from mine hitting haruka- both dick actions but def diff #hitting a kid after you talk bout bulldozing their home and then they Rightfully hit you for it yk. cringe. get it together she's 13 ☠️#threw hands with a 13 y/o moment... actual mustache-twirling-evil shit LMAO #with nishiki it's like. my man that's your friend... you guys are going through shit together why are you getting mad at her..#we get it youre insecure but dont take that out on your friend bro she's distraught too #im gona ruffle SOMEONS feathers with them tags i just know it.... oh well #point is. dont hit kids dont hit your friends and dont hit women. unless it's consensual then by all means go WWE on each other

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hyukascampfire · 3 months ago

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𝓖INGER & 𝓢NAP ` ꕀ. k.th

you were the last person taehyun expected to appear on his doorstep. sweet and fluffy and oh-so-proper; he never thought he’d see you again. but... there you stand. and, much to his own chagrin, he fears that nobody else could get him more bothered. ׄ ⋆ ִ

་༘ ՚՚ ꒰ 🪵 ꒱ ･ 7.9k

ρairings gingerbread!taehyun x frosty puff!reader

𝒢 ‧̥ smut, fantasy, strawberry shortcake au

⍵arnings brat taming, brat tamer!taehyun & brat!reader, his cum is frosting, creampie, ofc no sex ed in strawberryland, thigh riding, oral m!receiving, cumming into mouth, cum eating, corruption of innocence & innocent!reader, banter, chubby!reader and buff!taehyun, manhandling, he throws her around a bit and she's so into it, they don't like each other but also def do, he likes to teach her manners, reader is also spoiled & rich and taehyun is not, hair pulling, he gets mean, no protectiom, let me know if i missed some!

✎୭ ashlynn's note this collab has been seriously so fun. writing fics is fun, but there's something about talking your friends and scheming all the yummy ways you can incorporate certain things into your fic. @thetxtdevil mae baby, thank you so much for being the best and even coming up with this idea. your mind amazes me... like actually. everybody did so unbelievably good, and i'm blessed to have been a part of it. now... let's get foody and smutty lol. some of this was written in a benadryl haze, but that's the fun part. i'm sorry mine came out a lil later than everybody else's, but hopefully it's still fun!

... back to the masterlist ⌇ back to strawberryland

Raising your fist to the door, your knuckles rap against it with a few thick knocks. The door is frosted around the edges in little swirling white puffs of icing, framing the gingerbread door. It’s the same all around his house: gumdrops and candy canes and the like, all twinkling with sugar crystals.

It’s all so sweet—unbelievably so. The man that calls it home is the very antithesis of sweet. He does not take after the gumdrop, nor the sweetness of the icing, and most definitely not the brown sugar and molasses of the gingerbread. Taehyun is the quick snapping of a leg, or the sharpness on your tongue when you get to the cinnamon and nutmeg.

You loathe it. Even being stood here, knocking at his door, you hate. He is everything uncouth and abrasive—he is everything you should not entertain.

Here you are, entertaining it. The door swings open. Your fingers and toes have begun to slow with the cold, like frosty-whip in the fridge. Through the forest, stepping over sugar bushes and cocoa streams, you had fought the bite. Why did he have to live all the way out here? Secluded, as though the rest of Strawberryland were beneath his meddling. You know why: it’s that he believes it. He is exactly as your parents told you he’d be, all those years ago. Of course, they were right. They always are.

When he catches sight of you at his door, his distant eyes morph, and his lip tugs into a scowl. The rise of his brows ruffles your feathers with an infuriating ease. “Is there something you want?” he asks. His tone is infuriating, too. It’s the kind of question that means much more beyond the words said. You catch exactly what he means—how he intends to get under your skin.

Hidden behind the door, he has one hand on the handle. It's an unspoken thing, too. He wants you to remember that he could close it. You can’t let him, or else you’ll have drug your pretty new furry winter boots through the powdered snow for him to slam a door in your face. “Yeah, actually. There is.” You run preening fingers through the ends of your hair. “We’re partners for the bake-off.”

“I don’t do the bake-off,” he says. His eyes would be chocolate and smooth if it weren’t for the way he wields them sharp. “Sorry. You’re gonna have to find somebody more your speed for that.”

Barking an incredulous, perhaps even snobby, laugh, you look around. Snow comes down on the ground, sweet and creamy. It’d been enough of a battle to come here. If you were going to give up so easily, you would’ve turned your little bottom around perhaps two hours ago. Does he think you hadn’t considered that? It was a long walk; you had plenty of time to mull over the many things he might do. Sometimes, you imagined him diplomatic and affable. You stomped those wispy thoughts out. Perhaps it’s been years since you’ve spoken with him, and perhaps what happened between the two of you is dusted over, but you know better. Here he stands in front of you: bitter as ever.

“You’re just gonna leave me without a partner?” you say. Your jaw trembles, seized finally by the cold. “Everybody is already paired up. Literally everybody.”

Shrugging, he says, “I don’t see how that’s my problem. I didn’t sign up for it.”

Your brows knit. That means somebody else had signed him up. You have a sneaking suspicion who might’ve—Blueberry Kai always tells you that he just feels excluded. It’s hard not to laugh when he does. Taehyun? Excluded? He is exactly where he wants to be. Where most are sweet in Strawberryland, the snappy gingerbread finds it easier to justify his bitterness when he lives off in his little gingerbread home, out and away in his own neck of the forest only to be found by a winding gumdrop road, where he can pretend he’s above it all.

It’s entirely ironic. Him, better than you? Gingerbread, and all his ruggedness? His unpolished edges? Once, you’d believed that the two of you weren’t so different. That you could be friends, even. Seeing what he’s grown to be, you think you understand why your parents stepped in. Back then, though, as just that soft little girl who followed the charismatic boy around with crystal stars in your eyes, it had been the worst thing to ever happen to you. He had been so gravity-defying, moving through the soft, marshmallow edges and the sugar-whipped reality of Strawberryland as something different.

No. Not gravity-defying. Rather, in the powdery and sweet sweet Strawberryland, you think that he is the only thing with gravity.

“That’s not fair.”

“Not fair?” he echoes, letting a little patronizing laugh out along with it. “That’s sweet.”

It’s hard not to shift or cross your arms over your chest, abraded by the dripping sneer.

“What? It’s not. It’s not fair that, just because you don’t want to at least give it a try, I can’t participate,” you say. Really, you should just crawl back home and beg to join somebody’s duo, but you can’t lose like that. You can’t lose to him. If you leave it like this, then he’ll have gotten the better of you.

“Can’t get everything we want, huh?” he says, straightening up and taking the door in his hand once more. “Just because everybody else has bent backward to give you what you want doesn’t mean that I will.”

“Wait,” you say, sighing in a white swirl. “Don’t close the door. Don’t you know your manners? It’s rude. You’re just going to let me freeze out here? I walked all the way out here, and even got snow all over my new boots, just for this, just for you to slam a door in my face? I mean, a gentleman would at least invite me in to warm me up.”

Lips twitching into a laugh and his eyes suddenly alight, he says, “A gentleman, huh?” He pulls the door open a little further. The warmth from his home, warm and spiced and oh-so-inviting like oven-warmed gingerbread, brushes over your twinkling skin. “Sure. Show me your manners, then. I want you to ask me nicely.”

Your jaw tightens. Sending him a once over, sharpening your eyes, you decide to just do it. His tone is nasty, but you don’t want to be disqualified for not having a partner. Even if he’s the worst you could’ve been paired with in all of Strawberryland. Or maybe the best, because it’s a gingerbread house competition this year. “Will you just do it?”

“I said ask nicely. Say please.”

He wears a mean smile—he’s having fun watching you squirm. So, you make a conscious effort to straighten up. “Will you please be my partner for the competition?” you say, making your voice sugary and batting your eyelashes in an overdone way. He thinks he’s funny.

Stepping out of the doorway, he motions you inside. It might look gentlemanly if it weren't for the sting in his eyes. You swallow down petty words and push through, your arms full with supplies. Arms aching, you finally let them clatter down over the countertop. The inside of his home is fresh-baked and spiced, aromatic like a true gingerbread cookie straight from the oven. You’re sure the glowing fire helps carry the smell in warm air. It wraps your cold bones up and smooths over some of the frayed edges. You’d been out there for so long… Nobody else had to walk that far for their partner.

Better just to get this done as quickly as you can. You just have to put up with him today, and you’ll be done, and then you can have fun with the competition. He won’t even show up for it; you’re sure.

“I’ll do it all if it’s that big of a deal,” you tell him, laying out the walls and warming the icing between your palms. “You can put the peppermint on, I guess. So then we can say we both worked on it.”

Hair the fluffy brown of true gingerbread and dusted with snowflakes like powdered sugar. Taehyun shakes his head, and it moves with him. “No,” he says, the corners of his lips still turned up as though he knows something you don’t. He rolls the sleeves of his gaudy, knitted Christmas sweater up to his elbows. The corded muscle there, flickering with movement, catches you off guard. Gingerbread, built like that? Tearing your eyes off him with the effort of metal tearing itself from a magnet, you watch him approach the kitchen counters. “I’ll help. We’re partners, right?”

No matter what he says, there’s a twist of something sparkling in those sharp eyes that has you watching him closer—has you trying to gauge exactly what he’s playing at. “Uh… Yeah. Sure. If you want to, I guess.” You gesture at the walls. “Two for us, and ten for display. Can you start the walls?”

“Ten?” he says. “We’re making twelve gingerbread houses?”

With your lips pulled taut, you say, “Yeah… Twelve. Is that too much? I didn’t think any amount of gingerbread houses would be too much for you. That’s a little ironic.” Everything is warm in his home—even when you look down at your own hands to tug off your white woolen gloves, your skin that usually sparkles like frost rests just beneath the surface is tinged with the warmth.

“I can handle it just fine,” he says, taking the wall and base sections of one. “Just wouldn’t want you to ruin your pretty outfit. Twelve is a lot of icing.” He spits the word pretty out like it tastes bad. On his tongue, you’re sure it does. He never cared for pretty things the way you do. Your mommy always said that he was just jealous, but when the both of you were little, before your parents’ meddling, you learned that it was just a different lifestyle. One that you don’t understand, perhaps. Who doesn’t enjoy dressing themselves in lush furs and sugar crystals over their necks?

“I’ll be fine,” you say, snipping the tip of the piping bag open. “I wore these knowing they’d get dirty. They’re my baking clothes. My boots already got all messed up…”

“Oh,” he says. “You put on cashmere knowing you’ll get it dirty. Mommy and daddy paid a pretty penny for that, huh? And it’s your throwaway outfit?”

“Look. If you like it so much, I’ll let you have it when we’re done, yeah? Maybe you’ll make a pretty penny off selling it.” You ice a warm white line down the length of a wall. “Can you hurry? I’m already icing. I don’t want to be here all day.”

There’s a few long, thrumming moments of quiet, where only the sound of your piping back crackling fills his home. Finishing a wall, you tear yourself away from your work to spare a glance his way.

Taehyun’s jaw is tight, a muscle flickering where he grits his jaw in the low light that washes over him. There’s a fire blazing in his eyes, and though he doesn’t turn them on you, the smoke rolling from them is enough to make your skin warm. You’d successfully gotten under his skin. Why stop here, when seeing that look on his face is so fun? He looks as sour as an apple; as spiced as cinnamon. “Wall?” you say, sharp and haughty as you offer your hand out to him in an impatient demand.

Snapping his head up, he hands you a wall with the heat of a thousand ovens in his face. You feel the scald he intends for you with it, and you revel in it.

You bark commands at him, watching his shoulders grow tense and his lips twitch with each. Crush the candy canes, you tell him. Melt the icing. Sprinkle these over that. Soon enough, you’re sitting back and watching him work more than anything.

He doesn’t say a word. You see them brimming in his eyes, but he doesn’t let them burst out all venomous like you know he wants to. It’s quite the show.

“Would you at least help me hold this up?” he says, holding the walls of a house together with one hand. His hands are a mess of runny sugar and powdered sugar for snow, and yours are perfectly clean. You can at least help a little bit if you want to claim any part in the competition.

You reach for the piping bag, fat with the sweet sweet icing, and straighten a wall up. You trace the seams with it, thick and like glue. With a bit too much pressure, the side of the bag bursts. White rivulets of slow icing run down your fingers and over the table. You curse, dropping it to the counter. That’s all of your icing, flopped down and deflating over the surface all sad-like. It’d been so much, that you thought it would last you each house and then some. Of course, you hadn’t brought extra.

Bringing your sticky fingers up to your mouth, you suckle the mess off. It’s so very sweet—warm and weeping, nutty and spiced with something like nutmeg. It’s Taehyun: the smell of it, the way it spreads over your tongue… You stick your tongue out to catch it where some drips down your forearm. “Mmm,” you say, sticky-armed. “Tastes good.” That’ll be good on the gingerbread houses; maybe the two of you do have a chance at winning.

When you look up to Taehyun, he stands frozen in place, his hands still holding up a half-constructed gingerbread house. His eyes are different. It’s a look you don’t recognize—a look you’ve never seen before. Rather than deep and warm, his eyes are blackish and heavy. A swallow goes down his throat; a tense, barely contained thing.

You frown, your lips still a sugary mess. “I didn’t mean to make a mess. Sorry. I’ll clean it up…”

Clearing his throat, Taehyun says, “Yeah…”

He watches you clean the counters, where the icing had pooled, and now the bag is empty, with the same intensity. You can feel it on your skin in a foreign, itching way. You swipe and scoop and work at the spill, and still, he watches. He does not speak.

You survey the houses you’ve managed to finish. They’re pretty, and absolutely competition ready: looping swirls of icing like shingles on the roofs, peppermint chunks all red and white catching light where you’d sprinkled them into the frosting, gumdrops lining the paths true to Taehyun’s own home, and powdered sugar sifted over the entirety of it like snowfall. It’s all great, but there are only four. “What are we supposed to do now?” you say, lips pouty. “That’s all the icing I brought. We literally can’t make any more.” You wipe at a smear on your cheek. How’d that get there? “I think I’m gonna have to come back tomorrow… Can you hold on to the houses for me?”

“Yeah—yeah, sure. Tomorrow,” he says, blinking something away. He straightens. “It’s a long walk. I think you should get going.”

You want to say something snarky or ask him why he wants you out of the house so fast, but it’s true. Night’s creeping over Strawberryland, and you have no icing, and tomorrow’s the last day before the bake-off. If the two of you don’t work harder tomorrow than you did today, then you won’t even make qualifications. You’ll lose before even starting.

You never lose. Not like this, and certainly not to the man standing before you.

ꕀ

“C’mon. You can do better than that, can’t you?” Taehyun says, drooping icing from rooftops like icicles as you sprinkle crushed candies over the top.

You grit your teeth. If he’d been snappy yesterday, he’s made it his mission to be your worst nightmare today. You think it’s his sort of revenge for ordering him around how you did. “What would you like, then?” you say. Maybe it’s feeding right into what he wants, but your life has lent you a short fuse. “You don’t even care about winning. Why does it matter? Let me do it how I want.”

He’s in another sweater. The sleeves are bunched up to the elbow just like yesterday, but you think he’s making a point with it this time. The shifting of his muscles is a bit too intense for piping icing. You’d made it through three more houses, wrangling your inner demons with each passing snide remark or nasty smile the whole time. It doesn’t help that he keeps his home terribly toasty, and you run cold down to the core. You melt and melt until all that is left of your temper is a puddle on the floor beneath you. Gone.

“We’re partners, remember?” he says. He doesn’t even look at you as he says it. “I don’t do things half-assed, Frosty.”

You’re sent reeling with the old nickname. It’d been sweet then, back when it was just the two of you against the world, but now it’s gone sour like milk. It even comes from his mouth soured. It’s something that you thought you’d left a million lifetimes ago, never to hear again. With Taehyun, though, it’s hard to pretend that you are no longer that.

He will not let you forget that, at one point, the two of you were friends. An unlikely pair, especially looking at you now. You thought it was all nothing to you, but seeing him has kicked up dust.

“You don’t?” you say, shooting him a quick glare from the side of your eye. “That’s funny.”

Strong brows shooting up, Taehyun quits mid-piping to look at you. “Funny? What’s funny about it to you?”

You can’t settle the obnoxious smile that curls at the edges of your mouth, mean and taunting and falsely sweet. “Oh, nothing.” You shake a sifter full of powder against your palm. It falls like true snow down over the house.

“No, tell me,” he says, his eyes trained and heavy on your dismissive shrug. “Tell me what you think of me. I wanna hear it.”

Oh, this will be good.

“It’s just that,” you say, “you’re not really known for doing things the best way, you know? Living all the way out here, an ass when anybody tries to talk to you… Well, really, it’s just that nobody likes you. But, don’t worry! I’m sure there’s at least somebody that does.”

His face falls, the twinkle of delight at taunting you that he’d been holding in his eyes gone away. All that’s left is the peaking of something deeper and roiling from out of the cracks. You get the funny feeling that maybe you’ve taken it a step too far.

But, you never lose.

“Is that what it is?” he says. “I work for my shit. You? Everything you’ve ever had has been handed to you.” He measures his words delicately. Like a measuring cup full over the top, he cuts the excess words and coarseness off. He doesn’t say all that he thinks, but you see all he leaves unsaid toiling furiously behind his eyes.

His eyes. They’re clear and, sharp as they are, they pin you. It’s a reflection of that look he gave you yesterday: deep and swirling and wild. It’s more than that, this time, though. It’s laced with anger and bursting at the seams of him. You’re not sure he’ll be able to hold back whatever it is that storms just beneath his skin, this time.

“It is,” you say, punctuation your words concisely. “It’s exactly why my parents said I shouldn’t hang out with you. They said that I’m above… all this.”

Oh, you’ve absolutely taken it too far now. You don’t really mean it. Sure, that’s what they told you, but you don’t really believe it. For some time, you did, but not now. It’s too late for sorries, though. Taehyun’s jaw goes tense.

For a long, awful moment, you just stand there and burn in his silence. It’s worse than any words he might spit. It’s hot—hot, hot, hot, and you turn liquid in it.

In a blink, nothing more, you collide against his countertop. Something clatters and thuds behind you. The gingerbread houses? That doesn’t matter right now—all that your dizzy mind can manage is his body crushing you and his fingers biting into the plush of your cheeks.

Where he had fractured, like true gingerbread, he snaps. You can see it in his eyes; even you know when you’ve pushed too far. Perhaps you ought to have seen this coming.

His knuckles curl white around the edge of the counter beside you, and his fingers dig deeper into your face. He’s oh-so-hot up against you. “I’m sick of your fucking mouth,” he snarls. His breath is hot as it fans over your face, too. “Someone needs to put you in your place. Where are your goddamn manners?”

Your heart thrums in your chest, and your pulse goes wild in your neck. You can’t form the words to answer him.

“Quiet now, huh?” he says. The husk in it makes the place between your thighs feel weird. You don’t know what’s wrong with you.

He shut you up real quick. You’ll give him that.

That funny feeling does flips, roaring to life when his fingers hook under the waistband of your bottoms. “That’s your problem.” His eyes send a chill up and down your spine. “You’ve never been told no. You’ve always gotten what you wanted.” Peeling down all the layers, he tugs your knitted stockings and your little fur skirt, and your sweet frosty panties, too. They bunch at your feet. Between your thighs, right where those foreign, throbbing waves reign, cool air laps at a wetness there. The hair all over your body rises. You’ve never felt anything like it. “Not with me. I'll set you straight. I don’t put up with spoiled brats.”

“I’m not a brat,” you say. “You’re just an ass.” They’re the first words that come to you. Damn your temper.

With the same hand he’d been holding your face in place with, he curls his fingers right into your scalp and yanks hard, baring your neck to him. You lose a strained squeak, tears pricking the corners of your eyes at the sting. If your heart had been racing before, it runs wild, now. You strain your eyes to look at him and his curled lips. Painted with a sneer, he says, “Watch your mouth.”

A swallow goes down your throat hard. It’s all unfamiliar: the aching between your thighs, the burning in your blood, and the dazing of your thoughts. “Taehyun, I… I feel weird. It feels weird.”

Something knowing passes over him. “Yeah?” he says. “Show me where. I can help.”

Show him? You hesitate, searching his eyes for an ounce of joke or aversion. You find none, and that pounding is syrupy-sweet, and he says he can help. That’s all you want; all you need. Taking a trembling hand, you bring it down your body, running the palm down the planes of your belly and resting it just over the spot where the lower bit gives way to the apex of your thighs. Going any further—the thought tightens your throat and pinkens your cheeks the color of strawberry frosting. “There. It feels weird there.”

Taehyun smiles a snappy, spiced smile. He likes that. “Want me to make it feel better?”

Your thoughts feel replaced by something powdery and weightless. You give him a dumb nod.

“Say please.”

Something bratty crawls up your throat, but you want help, and he’s the one who will give it to you. He’d meant that: teaching you a lesson. Melted around the edges already, you say, “Please, help make it feel better.” Your voice wavers.

“There we go. That’s how good girls talk. That’s how you ask to get what you want.” He nudges your thighs apart with a knee and slots it between them, pressed right up against that coolness. Right up against that need. “Grind down on it.”

Neck aching at the angle, you say, “Grind?”

He brushes his clothed thigh right up against you. The friction is delicious—sweet and melty and just what you need. It shoots yellow sparks throughout you.

It feels so good. Your mouth waters in anticipation.

“Grind,” he says. It’s harder, this time. Not a sweet suggestion.

You bring yourself back down on it, gasping at the contact, and you do. You grind, tummy tightening at every brush of the fabric hard and delicious. Your chest constricts, one hand flying up to dig your fingers into his shoulder and the other fighting the hand he has still in your hair. It aches and hurts, and so does the friction as you grow more gaspy and frantic.

It feels so, so good. You want more—you want him to touch you there and everywhere else. He smells just right all over you, nutty and musky like a gingerbread twist. “Taeh—hyun,” you mewl. It burns, but something slick eases the burn a little bit. Just enough for you to enjoy that burn.

“That’s it,” he coos. It’s not a sweet coo; it’s the type of sound one might make when you play right into their mean game. It’s mean. “Make yourself a mess on my thigh. I don’t even have to touch you. What would mommy and daddy think of you now, huh? What would they think if they saw their precious princess fucking herself on my thigh?”

No. That would be the end of you. You whine, thighs twitching. Something twists in your center, scary and foreboding, and still you chase it. None of your thoughts are solid enough to stop. Each time he flexes a muscled thigh or presses it harder into you, you shudder and curl your fingers into his shirt harder.

“Don’t like that, huh?” he laughs. “Then you haven’t learned your lesson. You’re no better than me; I mean, look at you.”

You want to cry when he pins your hips back to the counter, stilling your wild bucking. Squeezing your eyes shut, you claw and reach for that wave, even as it recedes from you. “Why?” you say, voice thin. It’d been so yummy—the sweetness still rests on your tongue. Your heart thumps hard, longing for it.

“I said, look at yourself,” he growls, taking his hold on your hair to crank your head down.

Right where you’d been on his thigh, there’s a sticky, marshmallowy mess. Your mess.

Taehyun releasing his grip on your hair is almost a relief, but he doesn’t even give you time to relish it. The walls of his house blur around you. All that you register in between the motions is his shoulder in your belly and your limbs dangling from you. You dig your hands into his back to balance yourself, but he’s got you.

He has you slung over his shoulder. He’s carrying you like you weigh nothing at all. That place between your thighs flutters anew. In all your life, you never worried too much about the plushness of your belly or your thighs. It is who you are; all mallow and soft around the edges and starkly sweet. But you did get nervous when somebody tried picking you up. Usually, you protest and giggle it off. Watching somebody strain to pick you up when they lift other girls like sacks of flour is just something that makes you feel a little strange.

But, Taehyun does not strain. He doesn’t huff; he carries you right down the hallway and into his room, and he even manhandles you down onto the bed with a bounce without so much as a sound. He is a solid pillar beneath you, and then he is a solid, muscled chest above you. With strong fingers, he pins your hands to the mattress above you. With the other, he leads your shirt up.

He’s so warm against your cold skin. His breath like waves from the oven over your mouth, he says, “You think you’re so much better than me because you have all this?” Curling his fingers around a necklace circling your throat, he tears it off with a clattering of a few snow-drop beads.

You gasp, glaring right into his eyes. “What the hell?” you hiss, arching your chest to wiggle beneath him. Your necklace. Who does he think he is, breaking your stuff? That was one of your favorite necklaces, and now it lies all over his floor. Still, your center pounds and longs for the return of his touch. Everything about him just calls for more from you. You don’t know how you went so long without him, or how you made yourself forget just how drawn you are to his magnetism. Maybe he is just what your parents turn their nose up at, and you too, but that does not make him any less a powerful personality.

He knows exactly who he is and what he wants, as solid as the gingerbread cookie. And you, plush and impressionable as whipped marshmallows, take to him just right. It’s something you once knew, but the sneered words of adults obscured that memory.

“Don’t whine,” he says. “I want to see your pretty neck without all that shit. That’s your problem: you’re spoiled.” He reaches down to mess with his pants.

His length springs free. Cheeks flushing, you take it in. You can’t look away, even as embarrassment crawls spindly legs over your skin at the interest you take in the sight. You’ve never seen anything like it—long and hot and weeping something thick and white from the slit at the pinkish tip. A pearl of it dribbles down, landing on your belly in a string where he holds it.

Taehyun collects that wetness and then urges more from the tip with a few drags down the length of it. Wrapping his fingers around it, he begins to slowly work his fist up and down it. It’s nothing short of impossible to tear your sights off it—it’s another thing that inexplicably fans the flames of something roaring in your center. “Do you want to touch it?” he says, watching your tongue dart out to wet your lips.

The sight of him growing restless over his pumping fist is enough to get you nodding.

“Fuck,” he says, sharp and under his breath. He lets his hand off it. “Go ahead. Touch it. I won’t tell anybody you did.”

When he frees your pinned wrists, you reach out a slow hand. You curl your fingers around it the way he had. Your fingers don’t even touch around jt. The weight and warmth of him in your palm makes your blood tingle. Looking up, you search for guidance in those intelligent, swirling eyes. His bangs hang over his eyes as he watches.

Placing his hand over yours, he drags it up and down his rigid length the way he had been doing a few beats ago. “Like that,” he says. “Just like that.”

You pump your closed fist up and down him, encouraged to squeeze harder and flick your wrist faster with each tight breath he lets slip. The skin of your palm gets stickier and stickier, the slick sounds sending your ears and core burning just the same. You like that it makes him feel good—that he’s making those noises just for you.

He twitches under your fingers. “Feels just like I thought your pretty hands would…” he says, stomach tight. “See—what happens when you give up that bratty fucking act? Shit… harder—give it to me harder, Frosty…” Shivering at the name, you oblige him. You reach your thumb up and collect more of that beaded liquid from the slit, and you work your arm harder. Faster. Your forearm begins to burn, but you don’t let it slow you. All you want is more of this; more of him. Finally, he lets sounds out from his chest freely. He grunts and hisses through his teeth, letting his head fall back. “Holy shit. I’m gonna—gonna ice your face, okay?” he says. “You said you liked the taste, huh? Wanna taste it again? Give me your tongue…”

Whatever that means, you push yourself up and situate your face in front of his length, your tongue out. Taehyun’s sounds tighten, and his hips begin to stutter and chase your hand. He picks his head back up to look down at you half-lidded—to watch. With only a few last runs of your palm down his length, skin so slick that your hand just slips and slides up him, he growls through gritted teeth. The weight of him in your working hand twitches once more, and from that weeping tip he shoots dancing ribbons of white. It lands on your tongue hot and sweet, melting out all spiced and snappy.

Snappy like gingerbread. Like gingerbread icing. Swallowing it down, you meet his gaze. He pants, chest rising and falling, but there’s something clear and knowing in his heavy eyes when you do. You think you know now, why he’d been so dazed as you made a show of licking that same sticky icing off your hands and said how good it tasted.

When you release him from your palm, it glistens with his sweet essence. He softens in front of your eyes just the littlest bit.

Eyes just as hungry and still catching his breath, Taehyun says, “Open your mouth. I wanna see your tongue.”

Belly doing wicked twists, you do. You stick your tongue out for him, still laden with the headiness of his taste. He does taste good.

“Swallowed it all down?” he says, eating the sight of you with your mouth dropped open up. “You really are so nasty. They all think you’re so sweet—you think you’ve got them all wrapped around your finger.” He pushes you back down to the bed with a palm. “Well, not me. I know that you’re just as filthy as you are spoiled. Somebody had to deal with you.”

Like always, snarky words swirl in your mouth. All it would take is letting them fall off your tongue. But you don’t—not with the feeling between your thighs, and not with the way your blood, frost turned to snowmelt, begs for him to fix it. Not when you know that all it will get you is more of Taehyun’s wrath.

It’s not like what he says is true, or anything. That’s what you tell yourself anyway.

“Taehyun, please. I need it…” He takes a marshmallow thigh of yours, pressing it up so that it melds with your belly. Cool air reminds you once more of that strange wetness between them.

Dark, blown eyes catching the sight of it, his lips quirk into a scoff. “Need what?” he says, reaching a hand down. At the contact of his fingers, just as they had against his thigh, your hips jolt and an explosion like the breaking of sugar glass shoots down the muscles of your thighs. He scoops that stickiness up from its source, bringing the soft cream up to his mouth. Tongue darting out, he has a taste of you just as you had tasted him. “Shit—you taste good too, frosty. You’re so sweet, how’d you turn out like this? That’s okay. I’ll deal with you, and then you’ll be just as sweet as you taste.” That fat tip of him presses flush to the source of all your want. “I’ll straighten you out.”

You don’t know what that means, and you are absolutely sure that you don’t deserve it, but any sass is staunched with the utter sweetness of the stretch in your center. Taehyun presses his hips up into you, slowly and internalizing the dropping open of your mouth, the pinching of your brows into a worrying line, and the press of your palms to his broad chest. He takes it and metabolizes it down like cream cake or the plumpest fruits, and he gives you more. More, all the way up until there is no length of him left to give, and nowhere else for him to go.

You feel so, so full. No amount of twinkling jewels or new skirts hold a candle to this. You don’t know what it is, and you don’t know why Taehyun knows, but whatever. Who cares? Breathing out a shudder, you squirm beneath him to search for that dazzling feeling he’d made you feel earlier.

“Stay still,” he barks, steadying himself beside your head with a sturdy, powerful arm. When had he lost his sweater? You don’t know. You might drool over the definition and warm skin there if he didn’t pull the length of him out until just the tip of him threatens to pop out, and then drive right back in before you could. A gaspy breath falls from your mouth, devolving into mewls and whimpers when he does the same over and over and over again, quick with snapping hips and the smacking of his skin against the soft skin of your bottom. Your thigh quivers in his hold, his fingers digging into the fluff of your thigh as he holds you into it.

Each and every time he slides up against something inside you that makes you feel different. Different from what you felt when you were on his thigh, and different from anything else you’ve felt in the entirety of your life. It’s deeper, right at the very bottom of your belly, sending your veins lazy and your hips twitchy. You want to chase it as much as you want to hide from its power, so all you do is stay in a hazy limbo of sharp gasps and long, drawn out mewls for more.

“No,” he says, his face right in yours. The smell of him, manly and so very sweet like oven-warmed gingerbread, settles over your bones and wiggles its way through your thoughts. It does something to your melted mind, planting a need to cling to him right in the center. Your hands perch all over him: the hair at the back of his head, his working waist, his biceps that flex and strain with his effort, and finally around him so that you can push your cheek to his chest and feel his heart racing there. “You’ll take exactly what I give, and thank me for it. You don’t get to ask for more; not with your mouth.”

“Why?” you say, whining. “I want it—so bad. Please? I’ll be so… so good…” Your voice bounces with each collision of your bodies, and your toes flex and curl at the twisting in your core. Nonetheless, you want more. Whatever this is—this syrupy, pure goodness—Taehyun has shown you something that you will never be whole without again. He has bloomed a flower right in the chest of you, something hungry that will want and want this, and you fear that he will be the only one able to satiate it.

The thought of the smile he’ll wear, should you come crawling back to his doorstep just for this…

Taehyun stops, pushing off you with a curled lip. “What will it take to get you to fucking listen?” he says. He pulls himself from you, leaving you to whine and long for that feeling once more. You want to complain and pull him back over you, but with the fire churning in his dark gaze and the sight of his length, covered in that same white, whipped stuff you’d left all over his thigh.

You’d made a sticky, frosty, frothed mess all over him once again. Really, what would people think of you now? Your mom? Your dad?

Manhandling you again, he flips you onto your hands and knees and shoves your face into the bed. Any yelp or gasp that tears from your chest is muffled into the sheets. Taking the swell of your hips, his fingers like bites against the powdery, soft skin there, his voice comes from behind you. “Won’t you just listen to me? If you’re gonna be mine, you’re gonna have to start learning how to hear no.” Curling your hair up and pulling it like a handle, he snaps your head back into another stinging, awful tug. It turns the arch of your back into something that you can imagine is a sight to be seen. If the burning where you feel his eyes raking down the curve of it has something to speak of it, that is. You squeeze your eyes shut as if that’ll help you any. “You don’t get everything you want. That’s not how this works.”

You don’t say anything. You have nothing good or sweet left to say.

“Say thank you, and I’ll give it to you good, okay?” he says, running a flattened hand down your spine. “That’s all I want to hear. Show me you can be good.”

The last thing you want to do is to thank him. That would mean admitting that you’ve lost, and that ruffles your preening feathers. But you want that goodness back, you want his hips snapping into you and that tight knot back in your belly. You’d do anything for it; even forget your ego.

Your mind is gone, anyway. Whatever your rational self would do, it doesn’t matter. There’s one thing that you want right now, and getting it is so easy. “Thank you, Taehyun. Thank you so much… I’m sorry I’ve been a brat, and I’m sorry about what I said to you. Please, just… help me. Please, I need you so bad.”

You? Sorry? It’s absurd, and yet, you entirely mean it. Maybe it’s your lazy brain talking, or maybe he really has won.

“See? So sweet when you act right,” he says. “Let me show you what happens when you do.”

You could cry real tears when he sets that same pace, his hands bracing on your hips to pull you deeper into each thrust and the front of your body bouncing against the sheets with each. Your cries grow hoarse and beyond needy, and your insides twist and turn even more dangerously.

You are on the brink of something divine. Something that will melt down so well, good on the tongue and as smooth as chocolate, but as sharp as the snapping of gingerbread.

And, snap, he has.

“Yes!” you cry, straining your shoulders as you reach behind you and curl your fingers around the place where he meets your skin. “S..So good! Right there—thank you, Taehyun!”

He doubles down on you. His length hits a spongy spot in your core, pounding up against the walls there and turning your insides against you. It’s almost too good. “There we go,” he says, voice shaking with a growl. The delivery of his thrusts grows sloppy. You think he feels just as good as you do. “That’s what—” Falling over you, he supports himself with each strong arm dug into the mattress beside your head, his solid front melded to your soft back. “That’s what I like to hear. Here you go—fuck, I’m gonna give you what good girls get, okay?”

You hope it’s more of that melty icing he shot from his length earlier. The knot in your belly tightens, just on the brink of a glittery, bright explosion. “Mhm!” you say, your voice cracking. You want it—you want it so bad. The intensity of it, turning over in your veins and rendering your thighs jelly, sings in your ears. It’s a frightening greatness, but you rage against the urge to drop your hips into the mattress and run from it. You need to finally taste what you’ve been chasing. “Taehyun! Right there—please, don’t stop!”

You were demanding more from him again, but Taehyun didn’t stop this time. Not when his growls and whines against your shoulder tell you enough about how he’s feeling. He tongues and nips at your shoulders, the only sounds echoing off the walls of his room, the hollow smack of his hips against your bottom, and the only smell of the sweet mingling of his gingerbread sharpness against your heady marshmallow. It’s good enough to eat.

Crying out with a frantic whine, the feeling deep in your belly changes once more, and you’re writhing and squirming against him. Your hips buck and chase and run, wild and just as explosively as the tightness shooting down your thighs and up through your lower back.

Everywhere. You feel it everywhere. It’s in the continued bouncing of your body, in each nudge of his tip to a sweet, spongecake spot deep inside you, in his breathless pants into your skin, and in the curling of his fingers into your hair when he releases a hip to do so, and in your pleads when he chases his own delicious release. Your throat tightens, and suddenly the sheets are all too warm around you, and you realize with blistering intensity that another one of those knots builds up in your belly. It’s quicker, short, and bright. You’ve barely even made it through the last, but still, it comes.

“Holy shit,” he growls, hips stuttering and then stilling. He reaches a hand down between your thighs and finds a very sweet button. The breath in your throat catches, and in nothing more than a blink of an eye, you crash again, and then your bodies are two twitching, elated things. He presses himself impossibly deeper into you before shooting that same hotness, sweet ropes of sugary icing right into you, and your fluttering insides hold him tight and eat it up. Your heart pounds in your chest, running amok in your ears and your neck, and you try to catch running breaths to no avail.

Occasionally grinding up into you, though there is hardly any space between your joined bodies to do so, Taehyun shoots more lazy spurts for a few long moments. His breaths slow against your skin, and yours do in your chest. Slowly, you recover as two entangled bodies, all clammy and melted like left in the oven for a bit too long.

Pressing hot, wet kisses to the back of your neck, and then down your spine when he pushes off you and pulls himself out, his tongue darting out against your skin for some, he says, “Taste so good… So sweet, even on your skin…” He brushes the wild tangles of hair from your face and adds, “I wonder if you’ve gone all sweet inside, too? You look like it…” The mess of you, your thick creaminess staining your thighs and his runny load pooling from your hole, is all over. It even makes the sheets beneath you dirty with dribbles of his release as it drips. “I told you I’d get you sweet.”

If that sluggish, sugary thing moving through your veins is sweetness taking over you from the inside, perhaps you have gone sweet. Or, perhaps you now have every reason to become his worst nightmare—just if it gets you this.

You’ll play sweet for now. The softer kisses he seasons your skin with are no less enthralling than the delightful goodness still ebbing away between your thighs. You think that, for the first time, you have lost.

And, to your very own dismay, it tastes so very sweet.

... back to the masterlist ⌇ back to strawberryland

✎୭ ashlynn's note BRAT TAMER TAEHUN, amirite?

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moonstruckme · 29 days ago

Note

hi, how are you?

really move your writing, it has def helped me through tough times, so thank you for that so much, I cannot tell you how much appreciation I carry for you

I was wondering, since you are okay with writing about self harm scars (I think, if I understand your list or off-limit request stuff correctly, if not, sorry, then just ignore this) if you would maybe write something with Sirius x reader, where maybe r isn’t feeling all that great abt her scars (preferably on her thighs, but if not also totally fine) and Sirius draws on them and reassures her and all that stuff

Hope you have a great day, sending you lots of love

Sending love back angel <3

cw: past self harm, discussion of scars

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 922 words

“What’s that supposed to be?”

“Gorgeous, you can cut the shit. We both know I’m a modern Poussin.”

You smile, radiant in the sunlight spilling into your sitting room. You came here to read, but Sirius was hellbent on distracting you, and as always he’s succeeded. Your book has been long since closed, the two of you lazing the day away with kisses and go-nowhere conversations while Sirius draws on your skin in black ink.

“You’ve just said some obscure artist to show off,” you accuse. “You know I don’t know who that is.”

“Yes, well, two can play at the game of belittlement.”

Sirius is quite obviously drawing clouds. They live in the crook of your elbow, and they’re perfectly nebulous. You’re only pretending not to know because you enjoy playing with him. Luckily for you, Sirius enjoys letting you.

“Is there going to be a sun?” you ask after a while.

“Don’t need one. That’s you already, sunshine.”

You make a phony groaning sound, clearly delighted. “You’re so cheesy.”

“I know. See what you’ve done to me?” Sirius grins, tilting his head up for a kiss.

You indulge him. You’re in an indulgent mood, all sun-warmed and languorous, reclining against the cushions like a goddess. You wouldn’t likely let him doodle all over you otherwise. Sirius is taking advantage of a rare opportunity.

He goes back to work, adding some raindrops and then stars trailing up your arm. He thinks you’re dozing, but when Sirius turns to look at you again your expression has gone solemn. You’re looking down at your own lap like it’s a piece of gum stuck to your shoe.

Your scars bother you, sometimes. Sirius can never really predict when those times will be—it depends on your mood, how often you’ve been thinking about them, and a slew of other things inside that lovely head of yours—but here in the sunlight he can see how you got hung up. They’re showier than usual, light and shimmery in the crease of your thighs. Faded, but there.

Sirius puts his hand over them. Not to cover, but to caress.

You seem to snap out of your reverie. “Sorry,” you say.

“What for?” he asks.

It’s a trick question and you know it. You’re silent for a time. Silence is not usually Sirius’ favorite thing, but he lets it lie, stroking his index finger over your leg.

“I’m just,” you admit in a soft voice, “not liking them very much lately.”

“Yeah?” He looks up at you, seeking. “Have you been feeling okay?”

“Yeah. I have, really.”

“You’d tell me if not?”

You nod. Not quite looking at him, but Sirius knows that’s more evidence of shame than dishonesty. You trust him, and he trusts you.

“I don’t think you have to like them, baby.” He kisses gently beside your chin. “I’d like it if you didn’t hate them, but I know you can’t always help it.”

“I don’t know if I hate them.” Your eyes seem glued to where Sirius is rubbing your leg. Your voice is small. “I just…sometimes I don’t care if people see them, but other times they feel so embarrassing.”

Sirius scoffs. “Well, that’s silly.”

You frown. “Why?”

“Because,” he says, uncapping his pen again. You don’t stop him when he starts drawing small flowers over and in between your lines. “I—look, you’re allowed to feel any way you want about them, okay? Obviously. But the way I see it, they’re just something that happened to you.”

Admittedly, Sirius didn’t always feel that way. When he first saw them, he’d been angry—at you, at your brain, at anyone and anything that had ever made you feel awful enough to do this to yourself—but it hadn’t taken long for that initial wrath to deliquesce into a wet, formless sorrow. Sirius doesn’t like not having anyone to blame. He likes thinking of the people he loves hurting even less. But it was a reality for you at one time, and there’s nothing either of you can do about it now. All Sirius wants now is to keep enough light in your present that maybe someday it washes out the past. It may never happen, but he can hope. And he can hold your hand no matter what.

He twines the fingers of his free hand loosely with yours, making looping lines for petals on your leg.

“I don’t like that they did happen,” he admits, “but I don’t like that I broke my arm in fourth year either.” He senses your eyes going to the scar on his forearm. Once large and long, but now faded. “Nothing we can really do about them, though.”

You hum. “Yours was an accident.”

“I know,” Sirius murmurs. He looks at you. “I know they’re not the same thing, baby. But I don’t think you wanted your scars any more than I wanted mine, right?”

You hold his eyes this time, your gaze tentative but full of love. “No.”

“Right.” He kisses you. Lingers until you soften into it, your lips parting for him. Sirius pecks the corner of your mouth once he’s done. “So, you just keep talking to me, and I’ll tell you when you have something to be embarrassed about. Okay?”

Your smile comes almost unwillingly, your eyes slipping from his to look at the blooming garden covering your legs. “Okay,” you say.

“There’s my girl. Now, do you think it would tickle terribly if I drew a circus on the bottom of your foot?”

“Yes.”

“Perfect.”

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joedirtymadre · 9 months ago

Text

Apologizing after your First Fight

Part 2, (Pls send requests, I like making these!)

MONSTER TRIO + LAW, ACE, SABO

LUFFY

You spent the next day in your room, refusing to eat or just say hi to your worried crew mates. You hugged yourself h def the covers, wondering if you went too far with your words. Maybe you should have said it in a different way…? You continued to wonder whether you should take your captain’s words to heart… “Maybe it would be best if I do start my own crew… a crew that won’t lash out when anyone speaks their mind…” you sighed as you nuzzled deeper into your bed.

Luffy’s POV

I stared off into the sunset while sitting on top of Sunny’s head. “She didn’t have to be so mean…” I grumbled as I continued to stare out into the open. “Luffy!” I heard Bami call out. “Wha-“ I was cut off by a smack to my head. “Ow!” I shouted. “Good! Why is (Y/N) still in her room? Why haven’t you checked up on her?” She asked, annoyed. “…” I stayed quiet. “Answer me!” She glared as she pulled on my cheek. “We haf a fighf,” I said nervously. “A fight?” Robin asked as she joined us. “Yeah,” I said as Nami let go of my cheek. “What did you do?” Nami asked as she crossed her arms. “Nothing! Or… nothing serious! I don’t know why she’s mad at me and trying to boss me around like she’s captain,” I huffed.

“Are you talking about yesterday?” Nami asked as she sat down beside me. “Yeah… she yelled at me because I left the ship to explore the island,” I explained. “Well why do you think that made her angry?” Robin asked as she sat on the other side of me. “I don’t know… cause I didn’t stay on the ship like I was supposed to… but I got bored!” I groaned. “Ok, but what else did she say?” Robin asked.

“Well… she said she’s mad that I didn’t listen to her, but I’m not a kid!” I argued back. “Ok, well think about it this way. What if you asked (Y/N) to make you a giant meal and she said ok, and later you find out she never made it because she got bored or distracted. Wouldn’t you be mad too?” Nami asked. “Yeah I would, but…” I trailed off. “I get it now, she’s mad cause she asked me to do something and I said ok but I went off to do my own thing…” I said softly, finally understanding. “Good, now go apologize!” Nami said. “Ok!” I said quickly as I jumped up to run to (Y/N)’s room.

I knocked on her door, hoping she’d answer it. “…coming,” I heard softly. I braced myself for a beating, but when the door opened I saw my girl in front of me. She had frizzy hair, swollen eyes, and was wrapped in a blanket. “(Y/N)…” I said softly. “What do you want?” she asked. “Can I come inside?” I asked. “You’re the captain, you can do whatever you want…” she glared as she walked back towards her bed. I followed her inside and shut the door behind me.

“(Y/N), I’m sorry… I didn’t understand why you were mad, but I get it now. You asked me to do something and I didn’t… I went out to do my own thing…” I said softly as I opened my arms, hoping she’d hug me back. “You really hurt my feelings,” she said softly. “I know, I just didn’t like being told what to do… and at the time I didn’t see what the problem was,” I explained. “You told me to go start my own crew… why would you try to kick me out of the crew so easily?” She asked as her eyes became glossy. “I was mad, I’m sorry… please don’t leave, don’t leave me,” I said as I pulled her into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry, I’ll always listen to you, cause I know you’re just trying to keep me and everyone else safe,” I said as I squeezed her tighter. “Alright… but you know you have to make it up to me, right?” She asked softly. “Yeah,” I replied. “It’s gonna be a mean punishment… I mean it,” she laughed as she looked up to me. “That’s fine, as long as you don’t leave. You can’t leave, I won’t let you,” I grinned. “Ok, but I haven't forgiven you yet. That punishment is gonna be big,” she said with a mischievous look in her eyes. “Bring it on,” I laughed.

ZORO

I sat in the dining room, just wanting to clear my head. I know I messed up, but did she seriously have to run away from me? I groaned as I slammed my head on the table. “Hey Moss head, break that forehead somewhere else. We eat there,” Curly brow frowned. “Whatever…” I replied. “Woah, no come back? Did you break one of your swords or something?” He asked as he sat across from me, wiping his hands. “I said something stupid to (Y/N), and I made her upset… I regretted saying it, but in the moment it slipped out… Now she’s been ignoring me for the past few days. “That’s why I’ve been seeing her in Chopper’s office more often,” he said. “Yeah, anytime I find her she runs away…” I groaned.

“So what did you say?” Sanji asked as he took out a cigarette. “I said… I said I feel like she’s smothering… me,” I said softly. “You dumbass! To (Y/N)?! I should shove my foot down your throat for uttering words like that to her!” The cook glared. I bit my tongue, not wanting to fight. “Did you at least talk to her about wanting space?” He asked. “No…” I sighed as I banged my head against the table again. “You really are a dumb marimo,”

Sanji said. “I know, so what can I do?” I asked. “You’re asking me for advice? That’s a first,” he scoffed. “Well, I would first apologize, and then you need to tell her the reason behind your little tantrum. Cause now she thinks you think she’s a bother, when she’s not,” he said. “That’s… really helpful,” I said. “Now hurry the hell out of here, before I try to steal her away from you,” he said he leaned into his chair. I nodded and rushed out of the dining room.

“(Y/N)!” I began calling around the ship, but no one’s seen her. “Where could she be?” I asked myself. “(Y/N)? She’s in the library,” Chopper said as he walked out of his office. “Thanks!” I said as I rushed off.

“(Y/N)!” I called out. “Yes?” I heard in a cold tone. I walked towards the voice and found her in a corner reading, not once looking up from her book. “Hey,” I said awkwardly as I walked closer. “What do you want?” She asked. “I wanted to… to see you,” I said slowly. “You sure? Cause I thought I was suffocating you,” she spat. “(Y/N)… I didn’t mean that, I don’t know… in the moment I just felt every-“ she cut me off.

“No need to explain. You want space, I’ll give you space,” she said quickly. “Oh thank god, I was scared you’d leave me… so you understand that sometimes I-“ she cut me off again. “Yep, so there’s no need for us to be together anymore if you find me so suffocating,” she smiled and quickly shut her book. “Wait, what?” I asked. “Why be with someone you find too clingy? I get it, might as well live that lone wolf style you want so bad,” she said as she began leaving. “No! Just please let me explain, just 1 minute,” I pleaded.

“Ok, 1 minute,” she said as she turned to face me. "I don’t find you annoying, clingy, or anything! I just… sometimes I just miss having alone time, but I don’t want to be alone all the time. God, even I don’t understand myself! I just… I felt like if I said anything you might leave me, but I don’t want you to leave… I love you…” I felt my ears turning red. “If you love me, then why did you think you couldn’t talk to me about this? I understand people needing their personal space, but you really didn’t feel comfortable communicating with me about this? You really think I’m the kind of person that would freak out over that?” She asked as tears welled up in her eyes.

“I’m sorry… you shouldn’t have to put up with me,” I said, feeling defeated. “Don’t say it like that, I like being with you.” She smiled softly as she stepped closer to me. “Please forgive me, I really don’t want to end things,” I said. “Alright, but make sure you talk to me from now on. Please?” She asked. “Yeah,” I nodded as I pulled her into a hug. “Oh, and you definitely have to make it up to me,” she smiled. “Definitely,” I smiled back.

SANJI

TW* (Eating Disorder, Starvation, Insecurities, etc.)

It’s been a few days now and I’m seriously worried about (Y/N), I grabbed the untouched tray from her door step. “(Y/N) please open the door! Please!” I pleaded as I pounded on the door. No response. I looked at the tray with worry, it’s been 4 days and she hasn’t stepped out of her room once. She hasn’t touched any of the trays of food either… “I’m sorry!” I called out, before finally kicking the door down.

I heard a small yelp. I looked inside and saw her room, clothes thrown everywhere, her closet emptied, and my eyes finally fell to her. She was sitting at her small vanity table, hair disheveled, pale skin, and dull eyes. “You really broke my door down?” She asked as she turned back to the vanity mirror. “I was worried about you, you haven’t stepped out of this room in 4 days, eaten in 4 days! I’m supposed to protect you, take care-” I was cut off. “Shut up! You don’t even care about me!” She spat.

“Why would you say that?” I asked as I stepped closer. “Because look at me… I’m not as pretty as her, not as thin, tall, have crappy hair, dull eyes… I can’t even compete against Nami…” she said softly as her body began to tremble. I stood behind her and softly placed my hands on her shoulders, turning her around to face me. “Are you crazy? You’re perfect, why are you comparing yourself to her?” I asked. “Because I see the way you look at her… the way you talk about her. I mean… you wouldn’t even let me touch her stupid dessert!” she glared.

“(Y/N) I love you, there’s no other woman that I want to be with. You have to believe me,” I said. “Kinda hard to believe you after that day,” she said as she avoided my eyes. “Please, I never wanted to hurt your feelings. My chef hat must’ve been too tight that day… I hate seeing you like this. I miss seeing your beautiful eyes whenever you watch me cook. Your smile can light up 10 billion islands, I love seeing you fight with your hair, I love how you can’t stay clean when we cook, I love how you never get tired of listening about my dream, and I love how you’ve always been so patient with me… Even when I’m being a shitty boyfriend…” I said softly as I wiped her tears with my thumbs.

“I… I can’t trust you,” she confessed. Those words felt like a knife went through my heart. “I understand…” I said softly as I stood up. I held out my hand, she stared confusedly. “Sanji?” She asked as she looked up. “If you’ll allow me, I’ll happily spend the rest of my life trying to prove to you how much I love you. I won’t let you feel 2nd place ever again,” I smiled softly, hoping she’ll accept. She stared at my hand for what felt like an eternity, but slowly placed hers in mine.

I quickly pulled her into a hug, “I know this doesn’t mean you’re forgiving me, but thank you for giving me another chance,” I said softly as I held on tight. I felt her tense up, but slowly relaxed in my arms. “Now, come on,” I said as I lifted her up. “Huh? W-Where are we going?” She asked, gaining some color back onto her face. “To the kitchen, I can’t let a goddess starve any longer,” I smiled as I walked towards the kitchen. “I-I can walk,” she blushed. “No way, I told you… I’ll happily spend the rest of my life proving myself to you,” I smiled.

LAW

You tossed your wrench, “Fuck!” you cursed as you laid on the floor next to the wiring you disassembled. That’s it, you’ve given up… you were starving, cold, and exhausted. “What time is it?” You asked yourself and checked your watch to see it was 10PM. “Woah… have I really been here all day? I haven’t eaten… I- Law!” You said as you scrambled to your feet. “He’s gonna be so mad at me… I acted so stubborn and stupid earlier,” You said worriedly as you rushed to your bedroom. You stopped right in front of your bedroom door. “I didn’t even fix the stupid motor, so now I look like a useless asshole,” You whispered to yourself as you slowly entered the bedroom.

“The asshole part is right,” you heard. You turned to see him sitting in the corner of the room reading under a lamp. You walked up slowly, “Hi,” you said softly. “Hey,” he glared. “Did you end up fixing the motor?” He asked. “N-No,” you stuttered. “Mmm,” he nodded, focusing back on the pages of his book. “L-Law… I’m sorry,” you said softly. “Sorry? For what?” He asked, acting clueless. “I acted like an ass earlier, I just wanted to fix the stupid motor. I wanted to help, but I probably made things worse,” you sighed as you sat in the chair beside him. “Oh well,” he said and closed his book. “I know you just wanted to help me earlier, but… I don’t know. There’s no excuse for my behavior earlier,” you said as you watched him walk to bed. “Well, thank you for your apology,” he said as he tucked himself into bed.

You sat awkwardly in your chair, maybe this is his way of asking for space? “I-I’ll go bunk with Bepo tonight, you deserve some space…” you trailed off as you headed towards the exit. “I didn’t say you could leave,” his voice boomed. You slowly turned around and walked towards the bed. He stared at you for a few seconds, “Come on already, I know you’re exhausted,” he said as he lifted the blanket. You rushed over and hopped into bed with him. “I’m sorry,” you repeated as you nuzzled into his chest. “It’s fine, we all act like assholes once in a while. I know you just wanted to help fix the motor, but next time take my advice and take a break,” he said as he kissed your forehead. “Mhmm, forgive me for my outburst earlier?” You asked. “Yeah, but you owe me. I had to spend one of our days off alone,” he grumbled. “Alright,” you smiled before falling asleep in each other’s arms.

ACE

It’s been 2 days since our argument and (Y/N) has been avoiding me like the plague. “Something wrong?” Marco asked. “I just don’t get why (Y/N) is so mad at me… You guys leave all the time without telling us and we don’t say anything,” I sighed as I banged my head against the bar. “Well, we’re not dating (Y/N). So she doesn’t really have the right to know when we’re leaving, but she does for you,” he said. “What?” I asked. “Well wouldn’t you be oissed if (Y/N) took off one day without even saying a goodbye, or even mentioning that she had a personal mission to do?” Marco asked. “Well I mean yeah, but… God I’m such a shitty boyfriend,” I groaned. “Now you get it!” Marco laughed.

“And if I were you, I’d apologize quickly. Heard through the grapevine she asked Pops to go on a personal mission for a while,” Marco said. “What? Without even- oh god I’m an asshole!” I said as I raced towards her bedroom. “(Y/N)! (Y/N)! (Y/N)!” I said as I knocked on the door repeatedly. “What?” She asked as she swung the door open. “I heard you’re leaving? Why?” I asked. “None of your business,” she said as she tried to shut the door, but my foot stopped it.

“It is my business, I can’t just let my-“ she cut me off. “Your what? Cause last time I checked I’m obviously not your girlfriend because you see me as nothing more than a crewmate,” she glared. “No I… I’m here to apologize,” I said slowly. “I didn’t get why you were so upset, but now that the roles are reversed I get it now… I’m acting like a shitty boyfriend, I should have told you that I was leaving. The thought of you just leaving without telling me anything… scares me, because you’re right, what if I never see you again?” I explained as I pushed my way through. She stepped back, “Please forgive me,” I pleaded.

“You don’t get how many nights I laid awake wondering if I was never going to see you again. If you were ever going to hold me again… why would you put me through that?” She asked. “I wasn’t thinking… I never think, I’m just a big dumbass with an amazing girlfriend who actually puts up with me,” I confessed. “You’re right, you are dumb. But at least you realize how amazing I am,” she softly smiled. I quickly pulled her in for a hug, “Don’t think I’m forgiving you just because you understand what you did wrong,” She said. “I know, I know. How should I make it up to you? Maybe I should spend the whole night making it up to you?” I asked slyly as my hands slid down her back. “Oh u-umm…” she blushed.

SABO

You have been ignoring Sabo for the past week. No matter how many times he’s tried to talk to you, give gifts, or whatever. You were sick and tired of him, you sat on a rock staring out into the sunset. “Hey (Y/N),” you heard a voice behind you. You turned to see Koala, “Hey Koala, what’s up?” you asked. “Nothing much, but I noticed you and Sabo had some sort of argument. He hasn’t told me anything, but I’m nervous I had something to do with it,” she said nervously as she sat beside me.

“Well to be honest, you’re only a small part of the problem. The real reason we fought is because he doesn’t want to spend time with me… The few hours we have free he always spends it reading or training, that we can’t goof off because we’re supposed to always be on high alert. But when he’s with you or anyone else he’s ok with goofing off and running off to go do something fun? I’m over it, he asked me to be his girlfriend. So why should I have to put up with his behavior as if he’s doing me some huge favor of being with me?” You asked. “I’m sorry… I didn’t even think about that… That is pretty crappy of him,” she said slowly. “Yeah, but it’s fine. We can go back to just teammates if that’s what he wants, since that’s how I’m being treated,” you sighed as you laid on your back.

“You’re really not going to give him another chance?” She asked. “I don’t know, but I do know that he’s in the trees behind us listening to us,” you said as you glanced over at Koala. “H-Huh?” She asked as she spun her head around. “Used you as a cover,” you shrugged. “Jeez…” Koala huffed. “It’s fine, but I guess I’ll see you later,” you smiled. “Yeah, don’t be ‘too’ hard on him,” she winked at me and I shrugged in response.

“Hey…” Sabo called out as he sat beside you. “Hi,” you replied. “I was just p-passing by I swear,” he smiled nervously. “You’re such a bad liar,” you said. “Look… (Y/N), I just wanted to say sorry. I haven’t been treating you so well these past few weeks and instead of spending my days off with you doing things that you like, I’ve gone off and either ignored you or left you alone…” he said slowly. “Yep. I’m glad you realized how crappy you’ve been,” you said as you glanced over to him. “Please forgive me?” He asked as he scooted closer to you. “No,” you said, bluntly. “At least give me another chance? I promise you won’t feel like this ever again,” he said as he grabbed your hand. You stared at him for a few seconds, “I guess, but if you ever pull this type of behavior again… who knows what will happen to you,” you playfully shrugged. “Sounds like a deal,” he smiled. “But… you do owe me, I still haven’t forgiven you,” you smirked. “Jeez, won’t let me off the hook so easily, huh?” he chuckled nervously. “Nope,” you said.

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landorris · 1 year ago

Text

friends with my ex | lando norris x fem!reader

summary; where y/n and lando are still friends after the breakup but fans start to think y/n still likes him because of a certain video she posted | based on this request

fc; isabelle mathers

warnings; i literally don’t know how to do narratives, english is not my first language

taglist; @thef1diary @bigsimperika @shobaes @d3kstar @stinkyjax @the-untamed-soul @bibissparkles @judespoision @weekendlusting @formula1mount @tremendousstarlighttragedy

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

yourusarname

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell and others

yourusername my new youtube video “week of workouts | ft. my ex” is out now!! go watch it

landonorris i have a name

yourusername ik i just dont care

landonorris guys im cool go watch it

maxfewtrell muppets🤦🏽‍♂️

yourusername love you too fewtrell

user1 did you guys saw what i saw?

user2 they should def get back together

user3 not them checking each other out during the whole video

user4 yn was ready to risk it all when he helped her get up after the crunches

yn’s phone

yourusername

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell and others

yourusername oh he was definitely checking me out

landonorris no shame about it

landonorris i love you

landonorris pookie

user1 yeah we knew it

user2 no longer child of divorce, who cheered?

maxfewtrell finally

landonorris

liked by yourusername, maxfewtrell and others

landonorris she definitely wanted me to kiss her

yourusername i thought you would never do it 🙄

yourusername you’re so slow

yourusername not on track tho, i love yooou

user1 the love bullying is so cute

user2 i want what they have

user3 she’s so pretty

user4 i want her

user5 lando can you fight?

maxfewtrell mate everyday i would get a text from you saying “she’s so pretty i want to kiss her”

so sorry if this is shit but i have another draft to finish and i’ve been studying a lot😔

#formula 1 #f1 #moodboard #cars #grand prix #aesthetic #f1 smau #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #mclaren #mclaren f1 #lando norris smau #lando norris moodboard #lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando norris x you

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angelyuji · 2 months ago

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LADS yandere headcanons

sorry that some of them weren’t long, i didn’t want to make the post too long :( but hey!!! caleb day!!!! guess who got to welcome caleb home after 200 pulls!!!! (imcryingrealtearsrn) tbf i have almost all of his 5 stars and a couple 4 stars now :) all of my saving up helped thankfully

i didn’t write any nsfw but i have some ideas for the characters…. so lemme know if u want it :)

tw // yandere, kidnapping, violence (physical, emotional, mental abuse), manipulation, fauxcest, implied noncon and more, just general freaky nasty stuff

zayne:

zayneer;speojfso;ias doctorrrr doctorrr i think i sprained my ankleee gimme a full body checkup pleaseee ;)))))

he’s very cold to you, but like its just cuz he loves you so much he doesn’t want to scare you away with his actual feelings (thinkkk tsundere)

soooo overprotective over your health and safety

he wants you to quit being a hunter and stay at home, safe from danger

he’ll eventually convince you too, he’s so manipulative, using your heart condition against you

he wants to take care of you until he dies, a giverrrr in more ways than one *wink wink*

he wouldn’t kidnap you, but will convince you to move in with him (probably by saying smth about how it’ll be easier to keep track of your heart and care for you)

you trust zayne a lot easier than xav, raf, and sy becuz he’s your doctor and also your childhood friend (similar to your relationship with caleb) and he’ll use that to his advantage

now lets talk about doctor zayne’s behavior hehehe

in reality, yes everything about your relationship is against doctor-patient rules and all that but like who gives af yk

doctor zayne is the type to prefer doing your weekly check-ups at home in private

and by weekly check-ups i mean not just a regular physical, but a full body check-up

he’s sooo anxious about your health that even if violates your boundaries, he’ll strap you to the bed and snap some gloves on to feel every part of you

(for your health of course, def not cause he wanted to feel your warm skin without you struggling)

rafayel:

THIS MOTHERFUCKERRRR BRO

hes the clingiest person ever, he quite literally never gives you a moment of peace

constantly calling you, never leaving you alone.

he’s very bright and cheery whenever he sees you

but he’s very cold and mean to people he doesn’t care about, he’s very manipulative in that sense

raf is def, in my eyes, kinda the spoiled brat type

he hates when you say no to him so he pretends like you didn’t

if he asks you out and you tell him you can’t cause you’re busy, he’ll make up some excuse to get you to him

whether it’s calling your work and saying he has an emergency or calling you and guilt tripping you, he’s going to get his way no matter what

rafayel would most definitely kidnap you if he feels like you’re not giving him enough attention

like too many dates canceled, too many friends keeping you busy

he’s OVERRR ITT. you’re his inspiration, his muse, his very reason to live so he wants to keep you as close to him as possible

if that means keeping you chained up in his bedroom… then yeah he’s keeping you chained up babes

he’s very hot and cold with you as well

if he’s happy with you, he’s showering you with affection and love. being a silly goofy goober as they say

but if he’s mad at you, he’s cold to you and cruel

raf can be really fucking mean to you but the moment you retaliate, he’s shocked and like “why would you say that :((((“

raf is similar to xavier that he’s clingy, but raf is more confrontational with you. he will accuse you of cheating and force you onto your knees to show him how sorry you are. (he’ll also go and make sure that whoever it was that was taking your time and attention, never gets to talk to you again)

very much a pathological liarr

as much as he is annoying (i say affectionately), he’s constantly looking for your praise

wants you to compliment him and be comforting him at all times

and he’ll force it out of you if he has to.

xavier:

i feel like xavier is the most yandere of all of them like even in canon (this was written before i caleb’s trailer lmao. he’s 2nd most yandere now lolol)

he’s constantly stalking you. finding out who your friends are, what your daily schedule is, what shampoos and soaps you use

you’ll constantly feel like you’ve seen him at the store, but when you go and look, he’s not there (he’s done that before in game lmao he’s so cute)

xavier to me is also a typical yandere but more self-sacrificing. (i saw a tweet about xav and caleb where someone said they’re both yandere lovers but xavier is selfless and caleb is selfish and that perfectly encapsulates what im thinking)

very sneaky sneaky guy

he would kidnap you but that’s a last resort

he mostly just wants your attention and praise so only if he feels that you’re in danger, he would kidnap you

he’s very sadistic when it comes to people that try to take your attention away from him (will torture/kill a guy if they try anything with you)

he’s a jealous and petty i fear

if he feels like you’re talking to some rando too much, he’s immediately at your side, arm around your waist and glaring at them

my little star my cutie pie it’s hard to not fall for his innocent words/behavior becuz he speaks with such an airy voice and cute face

does unhinged shit with a cute smile and you’re usually blissfully unaware (or at least pretending to be), believing xavier def didn’t kill that guy you always say hello too on the way to work

it only gets worse from there once he realizes you’re letting his crazy slide

sylus:

sylus is very gentle and teasing in game and i feel like that also transfers to his yandere version.

contrary to his looks, sylus is not a violent yandere. because of the nature of his work, he doesn't want for you to be involved or see that violent side of him ever.

he's most def a sugar daddy type, very possessive. he wants to know where you are and who you're with at all times.

but he’s not like scary macho man about it, he’s informed you of how dangerous the N109 zone is so you know that his possessiveness is out of fear for your safety

he has most def put a tracker on all your clothes and electronics

if you are and want to continue being a hunter, sylus will support you

the only reason sylus would try to stop you is if you get mortally wounded, then he’s like “yeah no, kitten. you’re staying here with me where it is safe :)”

i feel like sylus would only kidnap you if the situation is that dire for him

like he’s fighting for his life for your attention and you’re giving nothing. he’s gonna be like “omg kitten, why are you not getting the hint :(“

alsooo he’s such a tease like theres nothing he loves more than constantly teasing you about everything

when he leaves for gang leader stuff, he gives you free reign on his black card as well as the house

he does not gaf if the whole house is pink when he comes back as long as you’re home

loves loves loves dressing you tho like he loves buying you clothes and dressing you up like his personal doll

my cute little sugar daddy

caleb:

i’ll be following the canon story for caleb’s headcanons

you guys grew up together, keeping each other safe and being each other’s best friend

and caleb had been in love with you since the moment you guys met

he def toed the line a lot when you guys were kids: making you promise to marry him and telling you that he’ll never leave you and that he would hurt himself if you left him

which at the time, didn’t worry grandma. I mean, you were all he had and vice versa so its not surprising that you’re both so attached

but as you guys grew up, his obsession with you worsens

he sabotages your relationships, keeps a tracker on you at all times, and have crossed a lot of your boundaries

but then caleb “died” and you lost your best friend.

caleb, i feel, is a very core yandere. like if you search up yandere in the dictionary, his picture shows up

he is obsessed with you to the point that it’s unhealthy for the both of you

some of his lines remind of jumin han’s bad ending 2 (from mystic messenger)

like this mf wants to collar you and keep you in a cage so you could never leave his sight. he wants you to be safe and there with him at all times

he would def kidnap you to do exactly this

he most def stalked you btw after he came back from the “dead”

he watched and stewed in jealousy as you interacted with the other LI’s. (yes i know that all the love interests stories are happening in different universes simultaneously but just for this… for the angst)

he hated when you went on dates when you were young, so seeing you again after so long just made his obsession and his hatred worse

he would try to threaten and kill anyone that stood in his way to have you

(also the ARM???? OKAY WINTER SOLDIER!!!) (im hoping the arm is a permanent feature but i wont get my hopes up)

when you guys were younger, caleb def snuck into your room to steal your clothes or anything that had your smell and he most DEFINITELY still does that

i honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he had a full-on shrine for you that kept him going until he could see you again

anyway the lines are kinda blurred on the familial relation, cause in the game, he talks about how although you guys were technically siblings, neither one of you considered each other as siblings

but i’ll leave it here with this, you guys lived together in your formative years so you most definitely experienced and learned (wink wink) a lot with caleb before anyyyyy of the other love interests

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