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ozzgin · 10 months

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Girl I love Daitou but I'm ngl I need more of Yazuya😭 if you can, can you write headcanons about him please? I'd appreciate it thank you <3

Yandere!Yakuza x Reader Headcanons

Ultimate dating guide and palate cleanser featuring the gangster boys (Kazuya and Daitou). For those that have been left hanging for proper romance.

Content: gender neutral reader, mildly NSFW

Tags: @swagbucksjester @lucienbarkbark @moonieper @nu-vino @vee-love @tamaki-simp @pinkazelma

[Yakuza Masterlist]

Kazuya

Kazuya was raised in a brothel, surrounded by women, so he is much more knowledgeable than the average man when it comes to feminine matters. Similar to someone who grew up having sisters, you can talk to him about anything and everything and not only will he be empathetic towards your problems, but he might offer tips and tricks you didn’t even know about. Not too shocking when he’s already heard multiple variations of whatever is bothering you.

The downside to his upbringing is that intercourse has always felt terribly transactional to him. He has a hard time associating it with intimate relationships. He will flirt a lot with you, but despite all the sexual innuendos, he won’t actually do anything until later in the relationship. He struggles with the irrational worry that sex will somehow taint the quality of your bond, making it feel cheap. Dating you has helped him realize that such things can be done out of love as well.

He is extremely affectionate and well mannered when dealing with you. Which may sometimes cause you to forget there’s a reason him and Daitou are good friends. While he isn’t as ill-tempered as his younger self, it doesn’t take much to anger him still. It’s a rare occurrence for you to witness it, but when he has it out for someone, he nearly matches Daitou in ruthlessness. He's very prideful and protective and will not hesitate to crush whoever challenges him or messes with you.

If you have a group of (girl)friends, you can confidently bring him with you with the only risk being that he’ll steal your spotlight. He can charismatically slide his way into any kind of conversation and you can hardly believe that this is the same man cracking gross jokes over his latest murder to his fellow criminal buddies. You might consider him a social chameleon, having no trouble adapting to any environment.

Smokes like a chimney and you have to slap the cigarette out of his hand sometimes because he’ll just light one up anywhere (including your bedroom).

Now this one is for the ones that are into it: God forbid you accidentally call him Daddy because he’ll ride that high until the end of time. He loves the idea and will tease about it with every opportunity. “Terrible weather today. Should Daddy drive you to work instead?”, or “Is that any way to talk to Daddy?” for when you’re out in public.

Daitou

One neat detail about being with Daitou is that you get to see a lot of things you took for granted in a new light. Whatever you assumed was a common experience for everyone, like having a picnic or going to the amusement park, is utterly foreign to him. He was raised by the Yakuza and barely interacted with anyone before meeting Kazuya; civilian past times were never presented to him. So you get to witness his shocked and delighted expression as he tries all these things with you.

Thankfully you don’t have to worry about teaching him the…intimate aspects of a relationship. Kazuya has that covered. And Daitou seems to be a rather fast learner, because he’s incredibly gentle and careful with you. Part of it is due to his own fear of messing it up. He’s only ever been good at breaking and killing people. Despite that, he loves you so much. He has to be the best boyfriend for your sake. Surely these hands of his can do more than just damage.

He might actually be a little too eager to learn the ropes. More than once you’ve walked in on him reading a graphic manga and nearly choked, mumbling an apology for interrupting his…activity. He’ll look at you with a confused expression, completely unbothered and wondering why you’re so embarrassed. He was flipping through the pages for ideas, given he’s never had any kind of experience himself. Ah. That explains the random kinky gestures he’s started doing without shame or doubt. You’ll have to do some tweaking in the near future.

This may come as a surprise, but Daitou is exceptionally good at household chores like cleaning and cooking. Registering with the Yakuza involves a mandatory apprenticeship of several years where you do menial tasks for your higher ups. Additionally, the time he served in jail has left him with a lot of discipline and organization. Somewhere between adorable and comical is how you’d describe the sight of him kneeling on the floor and carefully folding the kitchen towels while waiting for the stew to simmer.

Daitou isn’t exactly what you’d traditionally call jealous. His only frame of reference is Boss, thus he will treat you with the same kind of loyalty and dedication. You wouldn’t expect a mere nobody to walk up to the Head of the Family, so anyone approaching you will, similarly, be violently kept away until their intentions are clear. You are his most prized possession, after all. He’d do anything for you.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #female reader #yandere yakuza #yakuza x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere mafia #mafia x reader #yandere original character #yandere oc #male yandere x reader

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spongeyspot · 10 months

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Toxic Traits/Red Flags HC

Characters: Arthur, Javier, John, Lenny, Dutch, Micah, Charles, Sean, Hosea, Mary Beth, Abigail, Tilly, Karen, Sadie, Molly

(A/N): WE WERE JUST TALKING ABOUT THIS DAWG. I LOVED @cowboyfromh3ll 's take on that shit sm and these hcs have literally been swimming in my head for weeeeeeeeks bro

Edit: some of these were kinda hard because there's not a lot of bad in the characters themselves... I had trouble with specifically Charles, Lenny, Mary Beth, and Tilly. Sorry if they may be OOC. IM EVEN DOING THE GIRLS BECAUSE IM IN A SILLY GOOFY MOOD

Content Warning: female reader, jealousy, self hate, narcissism, gaslighting, physical abuse, verbal abuse, mental abuse, mentions of murder and violence, mentions of infidelity, mentions of sex (Sean, Micah, Sadie kind of) (MINORS DNI)

Not edited btw

The boys

Arthur Morgan

- Honestly, I feel like Arthur would have this insane, crippling fear of rejection, especially when it comes to dating. - His self hate/deprecation plays a huge part in this, and quite honestly, him and Mary not working out probably also probably contributed to it. - Very emotionally distant. Has a hard time expressing his feelings openly due to that same fear of rejection.🚩 - Bottles shit up until he feels like he's gonna explode 🚩 - His impulse control is almost nonexistent 🚩 - Will resort to saying things that he doesn't even mean. He just says things when he's angry🚩 - Will hate himself even more if he makes you cry - Won't hesitate to run away from camp for a while to cool off. This isn't necessarily a bad thing per se, but he usually takes his time away to overthink the fuck out of everything - Prone to acting violent. (not to someone he cared about, but to other people, absolutely)Also due to his poor impulse control. 🚩

Javier Escuella

- Has a flirty personality, but around women, it just seems to get worse. 🚩 - Tells you you're overreacting if you tell him it bothers you🚩 - Overprotective of you. Always has his eyes on you, and practically orders you to stay in camp where it's safe. - As if you step one foot outside the camp without him, you'll spontaneously drop dead - Jealous asf. Are you laughing at what Bill just said? It wasn't even that funny. Why are you standing so close to him? You should be at least 6 feet away from him, not 5 and a half. 🚩 - Also has a problem with how you dress sometimes. God forbid your shirt is ever low cut. He'd probably ask you to change. 🚩 - And if you get offended or upset, he'll lie and tell you it's because he can't stop staring at your chest, and he'd like to focus of whatever it was he was doing.🚩

John Marston

- Stubborn as all hell. Doesn't listen to anybody for anything.🚩 - Commitment issues up the ass - Says mean things out of anger and sometimes actually means them 🚩 - Won't apologize half the time. He thinks kissing it better actually makes it better 🚩 - Regularly ignores his own bad habits instead of actually facing them 🚩 - Will run away from problems like Arthur, but worse. He'd be gone a really long time.🚩 - Gets annoyed with you if you get angry at him for leaving and staying away for a while. He told you he needed space, didn't he? What else do you need from him?? 🚩 - Ignorantly clueless half the time. Head empty, no thoughts.

Lenny Summers

- Not assertive in the slightest, and usually, respectfully, keeps to himself. -Takes orders without verbal complaints but inside he's annoyed as fuck 🚩 - Even if he hates doing something he'll probably just go "Okay" and do it anyway, and he'll sulk all day afterwards - Refuses to tell you what's wrong because he thinks he'll sound childish.🚩 - If you push the issue, he might snap at you out of annoyance like "Would you just let it be??" - Immediately feels guilty and shameful, and he'll hide away until he's ready to apologize and face you again - Also kind of a know-it-all... He'll correct you a LOT. It would get annoying 🚩 - Would blatantly tell you you're wrong before correcting you🚩 - Not necessarily an asshole about it but he still tends to get under your skin sometimes

Dutch Van Der Linde

- The BIGGEST Narcissist you'll ever meet.🚩 -He loses another piece of his mental state with every breath he takes. Slowly but surely losing his mind.🚩 - King of gaslighting🚩 - How could you even think that about him? He could never do anything wrong! You must be crazy...🚩 - Tries to recite his "pretty words" from Evelyn Miller to try and sound smarter than he actually is 🚩 - Expects you to just feed his ego without him actually doing anything to earn it🚩 - Will try to correct you even when he's wrong🚩 - Refuses to admit he's wrong. He can never be wrong. That word isn't even in his vocabulary unless he's talking about literally anyone but himself🚩

Micah Bell

- Where do I even start with this guy - Not above putting his hands on you if he doesn't get his way. Let's be honest here.🚩 - Mega Narccisist, almost as bad as Dutch 🚩 - Will brag and share every sexual encounter you've ever had with him like he's talking about the weather🚩 - VERY prone to Violence 🚩 - NO impulse control. Murders people for fun.🚩 - Backhanded and borderline abusive compliments 24/7 "You'd look so good if you weren't so fucking fat..." 🚩 - Selfish lover. Thinks just sticking it in will do the trick, and it does, for him at least.🚩 - Little to no affection. What are you? His girlfriend? Wait...🚩 -If he actually does show you affection, and you react in surprise, he'll tell you to go fuck yourself, and that that's the last time he ever does anything nice for you.🚩

Charles Smith

- Impossible to read sometimes - Like Arthur, Charles tends to keep a lot of his emotions bottled up until he feels like he's gonna pop 🚩 - Like most of the men in the Van Der Linde gang, Charles is also prone to acting violently. I mean, he started a bar fight with a fucking chair, and he fights in street fighting rings, let's be real for a second.🚩 - He's incredibly quiet and reserved a lot of the time, and sometimes you just assume that he's listening to you when you talk, but a lot of the time, he's lost in his own thoughts. - Will do everything anyone asks him to at the expense of his own free time and energy, and sometimes he works himself to exhaustion just to try and please everyone.🚩 - In doing so, he sometimes doesn't have time for himself at the end of the day. It also seems like you spend time together less and less as the days go on. - If he ever got himself hurt and you tried to help him, he'd decline any help with anything to save his own pride. The last thing he needs is you thinking he's weak. 🚩 - Extremely Overprotective. Like to the point where he'd beat the shit out of anybody you asked him to🚩

Sean Macguire

- An Alcoholic🚩 - horny 99% of the time, but half that time he probably has whiskey dick. Still asks you to try but doesn't understand that it's like trying to play pool with a rope... - If he can manage to be sober enough to actually get it up, and you're not in the mood, he'd get pissy and annoyed with you for "wasting his boner" 🚩 - Will probably also brag about having sex with you to everyone🚩 - Needy as all hell - Bro sulks on purpose - Low key loves the attention you give him when you continue to ask him what's wrong, but he never actually tells you and constantly says "I'm fine..." or "It's nothing..." 🚩 - But then sighs dramatically and continues sulking and dragging his feet so you keep giving him more attention 🚩

Hosea Matthews

- Ignores his physical health until he's practically dying. You've told him to get that cough looked at for literal years and he just says "I will" and does nothing 🚩 - sometimes talks to you as if you're a child especially if he's around Dutch -low key gaslights you sometimes 🚩 - and he says it with such a gentle tone, its hard to catch it 🚩

The girls

Mary Beth Gaskill

- Daydreams way too much - Likes to live in her romance novel fantasy land rather than face reality 🚩 - Cries a lot - Tries to be angry but can't help but cry instead - If crying makes you feel bad for her, she'll probably do it on purpose so you comfort her and give her attention🚩 -If you're in a fight, she'll turn on the crocodile tears to get you to stop being angry with her or whatever it is you're arguing about.🚩

Abigail Roberts

- She can be verbally abusive if she's pushed far enough 🚩 - Holds in a lot of her emotions🚩 - Neglectful of her own personal needs to make sure you or Jack are fully provided or cared for🚩 - a lot of the time, when she's upset with you, you're probably given the cold shoulder and the silent treatment - incredibly protective. Not necessarily a bad thing, but she can sometimes be super overbearing.

Tilly Jackson

- Tells it how she sees it, sometimes accidentally sounding a lot colder than she means to 🚩 - Too sarcastic for her own good 🚩 - Laughs a little too much sometimes when you tell a joke, and you can often tell it's actually incredibly fake🚩 - gets irritated really easily, especially if she's bothered while doing her chores. The last thing she needs is Grimshaw on her ass again.🚩 - irritable a lot of the time, unintentionally becoming short or snapping at you - like john, she also believes that kissing it better is better than actually apologizing

Karen Jones

- An alcoholic 🚩 - picks fights with you for fun, finds it entertaining to see how red your face can get from anger 🚩 - Screaming matches are a regular occurance between you guys, and she starts it almost every time 🚩 - Pretty jealous when it comes to the opposite sex🚩 - Has self doubt and believes that she can't give you everything a man probably could

Sadie Adler

- The nosiest woman in America. No chill. She reads everyone's mail. - Makes a lot of loose threats 🚩 - Anger issues🚩 - Low impulse control🚩 - Can be a little too rough sometimes 🚩 - If she's upset with you, she'll either yell or storm off. Sometimes both. 🚩 -(She tends to walk away a lot more often because she's actuall self aware that her anger issues are a problem) - She'd never admit that to you though.

Molly O'Shea

- Even more jealous than Javier🚩 - Glares at and envies anyone you talk to that isn't her🚩 - Has immaginary conversations with people in her head🚩 - Rubbing her hands together when the real life conversations are following the script she had planned out in her brain - Needs constant reassurance - "D'you even love me anymore?!"🚩 - Overthinks everything 🚩 - Paranoid as hell about infidelity - Gets mad at you when she dreams about you cheating on her🚩

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decolonize-the-everything · 1 year

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(to preface this, i am white. figured i should make that known off the bat) i wanted to come bounce an idea off of you that i've been rolling around in my head for a bit. i have this pet theory that, for the population ill call here "white progressive queers who know very little about poc and racism", a large underpinning of this group's interaction with poc is a Fear of Fucking Up and more generally, moral purity thought. they (maybe even "we"- im still hopefully learning myself) get so paralyzed by this idea and line of thinking that goes something like this: "1) since i know nothing about poc & racism, then 2) clearly in discussions about these topics, i will fuck up and say something wrong or perhaps even Bigoted, which if i did 3) makes me an Irreparable Ontologically Evil Racist, hence 4) i should just be quiet and never ask questions/speak on these topics" which then results in said White Progressive Queer and those around them never learning. i wanted to know what you think abt this and tell me if im on the mark or not

also thank u for the work u do on this blog, ive found so many helpful resources through you

You're right. In my experience that's exactly how it is.

I want to add tho: yes they're uncomfortable that they might fuck up and be considered racists sure, but a huge part of that stems from the massive inability to place the discomfort where it belongs. Which is with their own guilt.

Instead they blame the conversations for making them uncomfortable.

And let's take some worthy notes here: this is not how white people feel all the time. Because white people are not uncomfortable making these fuck ups in front of other white people.

So it's not that the conversation is uncomfortable. They are made uncomfortable. And they are made uncomfortable because even when discussing anti-racism they step into the role of oppressor (the little fuck ups or accidentally bigoted comments) so naturally and God forbid other (not white) people can See how easy it is.

My advice for white people that are like this (that nobody asked for) is

Your fuckups do not define you but how you react to them does

Listen, respect, learn

That's it. That's the whole list. Say something bad? Apologize, but don't over-explain yourself. Ask how to fix it. Google how you fucked up so you understand why it wasn't okay. Google again to get idea of how your fuck up hurts people. Google some more to make sure you don't do it again. Go to some safe space and ask some clarifying questions. Listen, respect, learn.

Maybe the people you fucked up with don't forgive you and that's okay, they don't have to. But YOU won't ever make anyone feel bad or less than in the same way ever again and that's what matters.

Having one less person making racist comments matters even if it's a struggle for that person to get to that point.

I need y'all to understand that none of you are gonna just wake up being suddenly perfect anti-racist allies. And we will literally never ever have allies like that if y'all refuse to even sit with your own discomfort.

•°•°•

This weird morality issue white people have over looking racist is also just such a non-problem. Like if y'all want a PoC perspective: white people are already being racist ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ ....we Already see y'all as racists. And also I'm gonna experience racism anyway so I'd rather it be because someone was just being ignorant on the path to anti-racism.

Y'all are so worried about how shit Looks that you can't be bothered how really things are? Like you're so afraid of looking racist you'd allow yourselves to continue being actually ignorant and casually racist. And to avoid what? Being uncomfortable for a minute? Being called-out? A mean comment?

We are trying to stop hate crimes and genocide. Like that's what we are dealing with okay. Accountability for your actions is an acquired taste but I think y'all can handle some discomfort considering.

#every time im confronted with the idea that white feelings are why BIPOC are being killed daily i get umhinged tbh #like i might die if i call the cops cuz YOUD feel bad if you talked about racism? AND YOURE JUST KEEP NOT DOING IT?? WHY #asked #answered #sorry #some asks just like #do this to me #white people like this make me wanna shake them back and forth viscerally #whiteness

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ckret2 · 5 days

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Ya know, as someone who suffers from a physical disability myself who read your recent post, i'm sorta curious for more details on how both Scalene and Bill viewed their shared condition. Scalene in particular, by your post, seems to have had a weird combination of pride in it (how it made her exotic and all) but also, being ashamed of mentioning it and going out of her way to medically correct it in her own child...How would you describe her, and, for that matter, Bill's, feelings?

(For anyone arriving late, this is a follow up on this post here.)

You know how some disabilities end up with a public perception where they're adored for certain "positive" aspects but people still don't understand (and are ableist about) the less positive aspects? Like how depression is romantic when it's "brood romantically like a goth heroine" but gross when it's "can't get out of bed, shower, or meet social obligations"; autism is cute when it's "hand-flapping stimming and getting super interested in a topic" but annoying when it's "noisy stimming & body rocking, won't stop talking about a topic I'm not interested in, and poor social skills"; or the face of albinism is "supermodel with porcelain skin, snow white hair, and crystal blue eyes" and never "cross-eyed sunburned dude perpetually squinting in the sunlight"?

I imagine that her condition is like that, and that she zealously latched onto the positive perception of her condition and worked that for all it's worth; but she wants to be perfect, she wants to be admirable, she wants to be beloved, so the parts of her condition that aren't "popular" have to get hidden and dealt with privately as much as possible. The pageant stage is for showing off her curves; standing funny to try to relieve her side pain is for when people aren't watching.

It's okay to have a disability, but god forbid you look disabled.

Though I wouldn't characterize the medical treatment she got for Bill "going out of her way" to try to correct it. For the most part, things like braces & physical therapy weren't for aesthetics or public perception, but actual quality of life improvements. Without that early intervention, he'd be dealing with serious chronic pain & mobility issues before adulthood.

It's like how if you have significant scoliosis as a child, wearing a back brace during your puberty growing years helps protect you from getting such a crooked back as an adult that you need spinal surgery for the pain. Even if you have no negative feelings about having scoliosis, avoiding a major invasive surgery in 30 years is probably a sound medical decision.

... It just turned out with Bill that more benign issues got swept in with the actual problems.

For Bill's part, the condition is something he'd been led to believe as a child would be a much bigger problem in his life than it ended up being. For one thing, the way the condition presented in him made him a squishy baby, but not as flexible as his mom as an adult. (Though she also worked to increase her flexibility, against every single doctor's advice ever.) And for another, he got turned into an energy being more or less at peak health, after all his childhood medical interventions did their job and before his condition inevitably started to decline in adulthood; and when he doesn't age, doesn't change, doesn't even have a physical body, the condition doesn't progress. He got the best possible outcome, and he feels weird about it.

He'd never claim he's unhappy to not be dealing with chronic pain—that'd be a dumb thing to be unhappy about, and anyway Bill is sooo happy and mentally healthy and nothing ever bothers him ever!!!—but, unspoken, he has a strange sense of loss around it. Another thing missing from the life he "should" have had. Caught in a perpetual limbo where Health Problems™ are always looming 10-15 years in front of him, and have been looming 10-15 years in front of him for a trillion years.

#headcanons #scalene cipher #bill cipher #euclydia #anonymous #ask

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pink-sparkly-witch · 10 months

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Take Care of You

Summary: Y/N is run ragged. Her employer keeps throwing more work at her, and she’s too nice to say no. She’s also been keeping Jensen’s businesses afloat while trying to keep an eye on their families with him away filming. She’s overwhelmed, stressed and hasn’t been sleeping well. When Jensen comes home after finishing his movie, he notices his girl’s not doing great and plans a weekend filled with “her” time.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female Reader

Rating: 18+ Only

Bingo Square: Established Relationship for @jacklesversebingo

Warnings: tw: mentions of cancer, tw: mentions of cancer treatments, tw: dementia, domestic fluff, massage, smut, oral sex (f rec), p in v.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: This is a very self-indulgent story that I wasn’t sure would ever be shared. This has been my life for the past few years, and when I sat down to write something, this is what word vomited onto the page, and I couldn’t stop it.

My Masterlist AO3 Ko-Fi

Consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite or leaving a comment. It really does fuel a creative’s muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

“Honey, I’m home!” Jensen declared as he opened the front door, quickly closing and locking it behind him. The lamp in the hallway was on, your purse and laptop bag were sitting on the sideboard, and by the text you’d sent him two hours ago asking if he wanted anything special for dinner tonight, he knew you were home. Why then, he frowned, was the whole house silent?

Dropping his bag next to the sideboard, Jensen moved further into the quickly darkening house. “Y/N? Babe?” he called out again, still being met with silence. Walking into the living room, he huffed an annoyed breath, shaking his head in disbelief at the state he’d found you.

You were still in your work clothes: pinstripe pencil skirt, black button-up blouse and tan stilettos. Your hair was still in a tight, professional bun, and your glasses were pushed up on your head. From the look of things, you got home, put your bags down and immediately fell asleep on the couch.

That damn job was going to be the death of you. They took and took and took, giving nothing in return. You were eager to learn, take on more responsibility and help everyone around you. They took advantage of that and turned your kindness and willingness to be a team player into an expectation. Not only was it expected, it was now frowned upon if you said no. So you didn’t, and God help you if you told someone else in your team that they had to be the one to stay late because heaven forbid, you did actually have a life outside of the office.

Jensen sighed as he looked over your beautiful face, blemished by dark circles around your eyes that makeup could no longer cover. How long had this been going on? He’d been away filming for a month and, with other commitments, hadn’t been home. He was contractually obliged to attend conventions on two of the weekends. Another was his own doing; he was exhausted and couldn’t be bothered packing and travelling to spend only thirty-six hours at home. So, instead, he promised he’d come home next time and went to play golf with a buddy. The only problem with that plan was that he couldn’t come home that weekend either as you’d caught Covid. The guilt he’d played golf instead of coming home to you still ate at him.

You both knew you didn’t need to work. Jensen made enough to support you and allow you to live comfortably, but you wanted to work; you needed to. And when he was away for work, you got lonely and threw yourself into work. Jensen had tried several times to convince you to travel with him and spend your free time doing what you loved most: writing. He thought he’d made a fool-proof argument for his case, but you outsmarted him with a flaw in his master plan; you had responsibilities to your family. And to his. Someone needed to help care for your elderly grandparents. God, both your parents were now at an age that even they were considered elderly, and you felt it was your responsibility to do all the heavy lifting for the generations that came before you.

So many aspects of your dad’s health deteriorated since he battled stage four prostate cancer a few years ago. The chemotherapy weakened his immune system, and he never fully recovered from its poison. The treatment exacerbated his arthritis, and his joints were now in constant pain. But it was his memory that was now concerning you. He was forgetful during his treatment, which was understandable because it was one of the side effects. That, and his mind probably ran through a million different scenarios about his mortality. It was just that it wasn’t getting better. It was getting worse. He’d told you the same story twice in the hour you’d visited last week, and now there were changes in his behaviour that doubled your worry.

Jensen hadn’t meant to worry you when he’d asked you after Christmas dinner with your family if your dad was doing alright. He’d told Jensen the same story several times while you were there, and he thought he was helping you out by mentioning it. He’d been upset when you admitted you’d been concerned for a while and hadn’t told him. When Jensen asked why you hadn’t talked to him about it, guilt flooded him when you said work was keeping him busy enough and that he didn’t need to be stressing about anything else just now.

You’d told him back then that you’d been trying to convince your mom to talk to him and seek help, but they were as stubborn as each other. When the woman wouldn’t even stop smoking after having a partial lobectomy because of lung cancer and radiation treatment for throat cancer, you knew you were fighting a losing battle.

A light had been switched on, though, when at your mom’s birthday dinner, there were just too many things that couldn’t be ignored, including your dad calling you his recently deceased sister’s name and acting completely inappropriately for a restaurant. Your five-year-old niece had behaved better than him. Finally, you managed to convince your dad to see a doctor. Eight months and various appointments and tests later, a diagnosis of frontotemporal dementia, one of the rarest kinds of the disease, was confirmed. Two days before your birthday, no less.

As he watched your sleeping form, he knew something had to give before you became ill, and his plans for a weekend filled with couples excursions and dates quickly changed. It was now your weekend. You had a family barbecue up in Dallas that you couldn’t miss on Sunday, but until then, he’d take care of you and everything else that needed doing in the house. He’d force you to relax all weekend if it was the last thing he did. And it started with making your favourite comfort food: mac and cheese.

Jensen lit some candles around the living room to give a dim light rather than switch on the brighter lamps and wake you. Heading to the kitchen, he put a pan of water on the stove to boil before pulling his phone from his pocket and calling his mom.

“Hi, sweetie! How are you?” Donna greeted cheerfully.

“Yeah, I’m good, ma. How’re you doing?” he replied as he opened the cupboard and pulled down the box of fake cheesy goodness.

“We’re fine, son. How’s Y/N?” his mom asked, and he smiled softly at the affection in his mom’s voice. His whole family adored her, welcoming her into their family with arms and hearts wide open, taking her in as one of their own without hesitation.

“Uhm, let’s just say I’m glad I’m home for a few weeks. My girl needs a little looking after,” Jensen chuckled dryly.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry. I don’t think she’ll ever change. She always puts others before herself. Is there anything we can do to help? You know if you need to miss Sunday, you can. We won’t be upset,” Donna sympathised.

“We’ll be there on Sunday. I think it’ll do her good, you know? Relaxing by the pool and seeing family. But I wanted to ask you something,” he said.

“Anything, son,” she said instantly, and Jensen chuckled at his mom’s worried tone.

“You know that lavender bath stuff from the place in Dallas you got her obsessed with?” Jensen asked, grinning at his mom’s relieved laugh.

“I just sent her some. It arrived the other day. There are bath salts, bath bombs, bubbles, and some candles. And the pillow spray. Oh, and the essential oil! You could give her a little massage!” There was a grin in her voice, and he shook his head with a chuckle.

“Alright, I get it!” Jensen chuckled. “I was going to ask if you could pick some up for us coming up there, but if she’s got some, that’s even better! I just need to know how to use it.”

“Okay, so you want to start with lighting the candles...”

You could feel something soft and warm caress your cheek, and you start to wake. Your eyes flutter open, taking a minute to focus through the dimly lit room, and finally, find the forest-green eyes of the love of your life, and you smile at him with a contented hum. Jensen smiled softly back as he continued to stroke your cheek gently. “Hey, sleepy head,” he whispered.

“Jay, you’re home!” you grinned, voice husky from sleep. “I missed you, baby.”

“I missed you too, darlin’. It looks like someone came home and crashed out,” Jensen chuckled softly.

“What time is it?” you ask, rubbing at your gritty eyes and yawning. You had to admit that although it wasn’t your intention to indulge in a nap, you did feel much better.

“A little after nine,” Jensen answered and laughed at your gasp.

“Nine!? I’ve been asleep for three hours?” you groaned in annoyance.

Jensen smiled and gently gripped your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Yeah, and by the look of this, you need much more,” he gently runs his fingers under your eyes. “Those dark circles would make a panda claim you as one of their own, and that was before you rubbed at your eyes and messed up your mascara!”

“Oh, God!” you groaned.

“Hey,” Jensen said, “you’re still beautiful, baby,” he smiled. “I made you mac and cheese. Eat. I’ll grab a quick shower to get the plane smell off me, then I’ll run you a bath,” he held his hand out to silence your protests. “And if you’re a good girl and let me take care of you, you can have a massage when you get out,” he grinned boyishly, knowing he had you where he wanted you.

“A massage or a full body massage?” you giggled as you watched him search for the right response.

“I’ll tell you what. Eat, bathe, and pamper yourself in the tub with a glass of wine and a face mask, and after, I’ll give you a normal, completely innocent massage. If, and only if you still want that,” Jensen licked his lips and smirked, “full body massage to help relieve any deep-rooted tension, then darlin’, I am at your service,” he rasped in his ‘Dean’ voice, and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s been a month. The only way to get rid of that kind of tension is for those talented fingers to work it out of me,” you lowered your voice seductively. “And I think it’s gonna take a few… releases,” you smirked at his darkening eyes, “to get rid of it completely.”

“Fuck!” Jensen groaned, and you grinned mischievously.

“Oh, and if you need to relieve some tension, my hands and mouth are at your service. Although,” you teased further, “I can think of somewhere else that’ll appreciate it a lot more, and I guarantee you won’t regret using it to your advantage,” you winked.

“You’re gonna kill me one of these days, baby girl,” Jensen grumbled as he headed upstairs to shower and prepare your bath.

You cleared up the mess Jensen had left in the kitchen, rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. He’d be mad at you for doing it, but you didn’t care. He was also tired and deserved not to worry about a messy house.

Opening the cupboard, you pulled out two glasses. A crystal tumbler for Jensen’s whiskey and a wine glass for you. Filling the ice bucket, you pulled one of his good bottles of Scotch from the cabinet, put it in the bucket, added a bottle of wine, and went upstairs.

The scent of lavender filled the hallway, getting stronger the closer you came to the master bedroom. Smiling, you stopped inside the door and leaned against the wooden frame. You watched with a soft smile as Jensen moved around the room and lit candles. Most were unscented pillar candles, but you noticed the little glass votives on each bedside table and knew they were somewhat responsible for the soothing fragrance permeating the room.

“Found my secret stash, huh?” you spoke, grinning at Jensen’s damp, hedgehog hair and guilty look. “Hey, I’m not mad, baby. Thank you for doing this,” you gestured to the candles and the soft acoustic music playing lowly.

“Anything for m’girl,” Jensen walked over to you and pecked your lips. He took the ice bucket and glasses and placed them on the dresser. “I put your robe over the heated rail so it’ll be nice and cosy when you get out,” he glanced at you with a soft smile, opened the wine bottle and poured you a large glass.

“Thank you,” you walked over to him and wrapped your arms around his waist. He chuckled and pulled you closer, arms around your shoulders and tucking your head under his chin. You sighed and melted into his body.

“What’s this for?” he asked, kissing your hair.

You shrugged, “I just need a hug.”

Jensen kissed your hair again and pulled away slightly, looking down at you with pure adoration. “Well, you can have all the hugs you want for the next three weeks.”

“Promise?” you grinned into his chest.

Jensen chuckled and pulled you in tighter, “I promise. Now, let’s get you in that tub, huh?”

“Yeah,” you smile. “It smells amazing in there!”

Jensen let go of you, filled the wine glass and handed it to you. “Go on in and enjoy. I’ll be here when you get out,” he kissed your forehead and gently pushed you towards the ensuite bathroom.

You gasped at what Jensen had done in there. It was lit only by candlelight, and the steam billowing from the tub filled with bubbles and the lavender scent surrounding you immediately made you relax.

You sighed as you walked to the double sink and stepped out of your heels, kicking them under it. Grabbing a brush and a hair tie, you pulled your hair free of its constraints and brushed it out. Replacing the tight, professional bun with a much more comfortable, messy one, you opened the drawer, grabbed your face cleanser and began to remove the day’s dirt, grime, and makeup, frowning at the dark circles under your eyes.

Finally, you stripped your clothes off, leaving them in a pile on top of your shoes, intending to put them in the laundry basket later. You looked through the sheet masks you kept in a little basket on the counter, settling on one with chamomile and aloe vera, keeping the relaxed vibe in the bathroom.

Sinking into the tub, you sighed loudly as the hot water encompassed your tired body, enveloping you in a warm hug. You placed the mask over your face, rested your head on the bath pillow, and sighed again, letting the water soothe your body, and the lavender soothe your soul.

Relaxed, warm and sleepy, you walk into the bedroom with your fluffy robe wrapped around your body.

“There she is!” Jensen smiled when he saw you. You already looked more relaxed, making him feel lighter than when he first saw you.

“Come on, lie down,” Jensen said, placing a towel over the bedding to protect it from oil. You walked towards the bed, untying the robe. Despite seeing you naked thousands of times, Jensen turned his head to give you privacy. Once ready, you crawled up the bed and lay comfortably on your stomach.

“Comfy, baby girl?” Jensen’s voice is quiet, and you feel the bed dip with his weight. You hummed in response and shivered as his warm hand ghosted down your spine. Jensen poured the lavender aromatherapy oil on his hands and rubbed them together, warming the liquid between his palms.

Straddling your thighs, but careful not to put too much weight on them, he rubbed your lower back, sweeping his hands over your skin, covering it with the slick oil. Moving to your shoulders, he tuts and shakes his head.

“Poor baby, all knotted and tight up here,” he murmured as he increased his pressure.

“Hmm,” you moaned. “Feels good, Jay.”

“Yeah?” Jensen asked, working his thumbs into the knots along your shoulder blades.

“Yeah, it’s perfect,” you purred. You hardly ever took time out for self-care, but when you did, it was something you enjoyed, and you wondered why it was something you didn’t make more time for.

Jensen’s hands continued to work out the knots, and he smiled softly with every moan and hum that left you unchecked. Feeling you relax under his touch and sink further into the mattress made him relax, too.

“How do you feel?” Jensen whispered, not wanting to startle you or ruin your tranquil state as he sat back on the bed.

“I feel good, baby,” your voice was soft – lazy almost, as you turned over to lay on your back, biting your bottom lip when Jensen’s eyes went straight to your naked breasts. “See something you like?” you teased, giggling at his smirk.

“I do,” Jensen’s voice was deep with arousal, “so, can I interest you in a full body massage, or would you like a rain check?” Jensen was always a gentleman; you could see in his eyes (and sweatpants!) that he wanted you, but he knew you were exhausted and would never push you to go further.

“I think,” you smirked, “I want that full body.” It had been a month for both of you, but the excitement on his features made you laugh. “You’d think we never have sex with that look on your face!”

“Can’t a man miss his wife?” Jensen chuckled. “Miss her body because his hand just won’t cut it after a while?” he bit his lip and placed his hands on your chest, rubbing and caressing your breasts and down your torso. He hooked his fingers in the fabric of your simple cotton panties and pulled them down your legs.

Dropping them on the floor, he kneeled between your legs, gently pushing them up before pulling them apart, placing them on either side of his body and opening you up to him.

“Hmm,” he hummed, licking his lips at your glistening folds. “A month is far too long, baby girl. Never going that long without you or this pretty little pussy again,” Jensen murmured and lowered himself to your core, licking a long line up your slit.

You had missed this. Jensen’s tongue was unbelievably talented, never failing to make you come multiple times over hours when he was in the mood. Still, you knew tonight wouldn’t be one of those nights. Tonight, you’d fall apart embarrassingly quickly on his tongue, and then he’d be too desperate to tease you more.

Jensen slid a hand up your body, cupping your breast and grinned into your folds as he felt your body arch further into his touch. Your hand covered his and squeezed, forcing him to grip your breast harder. Taking the hint, he slid his other hand up your chest and began to play with both.

That was all that it took for you to fall over the edge. You grabbed Jensen’s hands from your chest and linked your fingers with his, moaning incoherent curses as your body convulsed through its climax.

“That’s m’girl,” Jensen murmured as he placed one last kiss to your centre before dragging his lips up the rest of your body, nipping and sucking along the way. His warm hands skimmed your body, and he hummed lowly at the softness of your skin, making you putty in his hands.

Jensen’s kisses finally reached your lips, and the combination of his soft lips and your taste on his tongue sent another wave of arousal shooting through your body. Your hands grabbed the hem of his shirt and tugged at it viciously until he got the message and pulled it off.

His eyes rolled as your nails gently raked over his lower back and around his stomach. You dipped your hand into his sweats, finding his erection and clasping your hand around it. The groan that rumbled from him was the sexiest thing you’d ever heard, making his desperation for you clear as day. He dipped his head and placed his lips to yours once more, the kiss slow and sweet at first, but as you began to pump your hand up and down his length, he pushed his tongue into your mouth and deepened it.

Jensen’s hand moved from your hip and skimmed up your torso. He gripped your breast and squeezed before trailing his fingers back down and settling between your legs. Running his thumb down your folds, he coated his thumb with your slick before expertly finding your clit and flicking the tiny bud.

“Good girl,” he mumbled, breaking the kiss as your legs automatically opened wider for him.

Jensen focused his lips and tongue on your breasts, sucking a nipple into his mouth with a contented hum. You moaned loudly as your body arched up, forcing yourself into him further, the movement causing his thumb to press into your clit just a little bit harder and pushing you just a little bit closer to the edge.

Wanting more, you started to grind your hips into him, increasing the pressure of his thumb against the tiny bundle of nerves. “That’s it, baby, take what you need,” Jensen growled as he trailed kisses up your chest, “tonight is all about you.”

You continued to grind against his hand, tumbling straight into another climax the second his lips attached to your throat. Jensen held you closer, slowing the flick of his thumb and prolonging your high just a little without overstimulating you.

You shivered, suddenly feeling cold, as you returned to yourself and whined when you noticed Jensen standing at the edge of the bed. Chuckling, he pulled his sweatpants off and crawled back up your body.

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere, baby,” he smiled, kissing the tip of your nose. “Are you ready?” he whispered while rutting himself through your folds, coating himself in your arousal.

“For you, always,” you smiled, but as he pushed his hips forward and entered you, your head fell back, and a low moan tore from your throat. With a growled string of curses, Jensen filled you to the brim and stilled.

“Fuck, Jensen!” you gasped.

“You okay, baby?” he asked, stroking your cheek, his brow furrowed in concern.

“I’m good. I missed this. I missed you,” you whimpered and wrapped your arms around Jensen’s neck, pulling him towards you and pecking at his lips. Slowly, Jensen pulled his hips back and thrust forward slowly and gently.

The lazy way that you made love was everything you needed and more. As you both succumbed to your climaxes, you knew that you’d always be safe in his arms and that he’d always take care of you the way you took care of everyone else.

Tags: @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720

#jacklesversebingo #take care of you #jensen ackles x female!reader #jensen x reader #jensen ackles rpf #jensen ackles fluff

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mae-gi-writes · 9 months

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everything that i'll never be | kim mingyu . seventeen

You'll never be his first and that bothers you, that she had his heart before you ever did.

genre: angst, relationship problems, insecure! reader. Mentions of self-harm.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

She's so much better than you. In so many ways.

There's no way you can compete. You're not even competition to her. Come on, it's almost as if trying to compare a Ferrari to a stupidly tiny honda that would break down whenever it had to breach the motorway.

This is how envious you are of the girl that once had your boyfriend's heart.

And you hate yourself for it, because every argument that arises is because of that sole reason; you can't stand the thought of her having him first. You can't stand the thought that Mingyu had the opportunity, all his firsts, with a girl that was someone other than you.

Which is why the words suddenly fly out of your mouth one day without warning.

"How was she like? Your ex?"

The words sound raw and painful, even coming from your mouth. You hate it. You hate yourself the most at this particular moment. Even more so when Mingyu stops in mid-action and blinks at you like you've just told him you'd committed a first-degree murder.

It's not that it's surprising. It's just that-- more so -- it's been six years. Six years already, and you still haven't gotten over it. So there is, ultimately, a problem. With you.

Mingyu lowers the knife he's been using to chop the carrots into tiny thin slices. He suggested bringing duck to your annual family dinner this Christmas, which you thought was a good idea, until you realized the amount of preparation that came along with it.

So here you are, on a beautiful 24th December night with the snow falling like soft petals along the sky line, making sure that the duck that you've put into the oven a few minutes ago isn't roasting itself to death.

"Why are you asking now?" is Mingyu's question.

You shrug half-heartedly in an attempt to show him that it isn't that much of a big deal whether he answers your question or not. Though it is, as you keep your eyes trailed on the timer on your phone, "I had a nightmare," you admit.

"About?" his eyebrow raises a fraction, body stilling to await your answer.

You struggle to find something coherent, put together, that doesn't sound so lame once you say it out loud because god forbid it is the most childish thing to think of when it's been six years of your relationship.

And yet, she's still the gap, that empty space, that lingers between the two of you like the unsaid corpse filling the room.

"About you," you pause, "and her."

Mingyu lets out a soft breath, "Y/N, we can't be having this conversation six years down the line. I love you, and I'm with you--"

"I know that." he doesn't have to talk to you like you're a child.

"Then why are you still on about her when clearly you're the one I've chosen to be with for the rest of my life?" the hurt in his voice is real and it makes your heart ache with guilt. You shouldn't have asked him anything in the first place. You know, more than anyone, that Mingyu would steal the moon for you had you asked for it. It's undoubtable, the love that he bears for you, the way his eyes find yours across the room like you're the sun that makes his earth rotate.

He continues now, pent-up frustration laced in his alto. Almost like he's about to cry, "it hurts me too, to hear you talk about her over and over again. It gets tiring after a while, Y/N. I'm tired of it, honestly."

"Alright," tears prick at your eyelids but you refuse to blink, gaze permanently latched onto the oven as you fight against the flood of emotion building in the pit of your stomach, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you anything, but--"

"it's not doing you any good either. So why do you do this to yourself? What triggered it?" he's on a roll now, not caring what you have scrambled for an answer, the need to hear your reason a priority in comparison to the millions of excuses you have stacked up against your tongue, "because this isn't about just the nightmare, is it? You've mentioned her at least once during these two weeks and I--I'm tired of it, Y/N. I don't want to keep going through that. She's a part of my past and yes, we were in love once. But I don't love her anymore. You're the one I chose to be with," he holds up the peeler and the carrot in evidence, "isn't that exactly what I'm doing right now? Why do you have to ruin this for us?"

"I--" his speech hits you like a truck. You hadn't expected Mingyu to just spit out his feelings without filter or remorse, which makes it even worse as you try to struggle and comprehend what his words mean exactly. The ache in your chest grows. For a moment, you can't breath, the soft pants stinging the back of your throat as it burns with effort of restraining tears.

You swallow thickly, harsh gulps of air that makes you shudder. Finally, you manage to whisper out a soft, "I'm sorry, Mingyu. I shouldn't-- I shouldn't have bought this up. You're right. I'm just--I'm just a walking time bomb and I'm pathetic--" you shake your head, the tears now spilling down your cheeks as you bite down onto your lower lip. You catch sight of Mingyu's stance faltering ever so slightly, but you move back, as if the physical distance might help you keep your broken heart in check, '--I'm really sorry, Mingyu."

You don't wait for him to answer before you're swiveling on your feet and dashing through the open doorway of your bathroom. It's not much, but it's enough physical space for you to lock the door and slide down onto the floor.

You let the sobs take over, your shoulders hunching over your knees as you start crying. Once you do, you can't stop. You can't.

Because the truth is, you're scared.

You're scared that you'll never be enough for Mingyu and that -- whatever happened in the ktichen -- is the exact proof of that. You're not her. She's --gentle and kind and just agrees to everything that Mingyu ays without putting up a fight. And they made a cute couple, and she's prettier. Prettier than you'll ever be and you wonder what Mingyu even saw in you in the first place.

And she's his first. Will always be his first. Something that you'll never be, no matter how hard you try.

You're so focused on feeling your body shatter with tears and pain and guilt from the past that you don't hear Mingyu's voice until he starts knocking against the door.

"Please," he murmurs, "can we just talk?"

"I'm fine," you blubber out, "please just leave me alone. I really don't want to talk about this right now."

"Y/N, I didn't mean to hurt you, what I meant was--"

"I know already, Mingyu. Just stop." you sniffle and wipe your snot with the back of your hand, "I got it. It's me. I'm the problem. I'll always be the problem."

"That's not what I said, don't put words in my mouth--"

"Just leave me alone." And as if that might help, you whisper, "please." So he does. you hear his footsteps retract after a few beats of agonizing silence, and when he does walk away, you slump back into a small puddle of broken pieces of your heart as you try to hold it all together.

But it's not a memory that you can erase with just a few beers or some good sleep. It's a stain that will last forever, and you're not quite sure how you'll deal with that.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

"Hey Y/N?"

Your head rises from the slump of your arms. You're not quite sure how long you've been in the bathroom.

Mingyu knocks. You let out a sigh, but don't say anything. Nothing feels right at the moment, no words can seem to fill the empty, now awkward space between you and Mingyu.

"Y/N, I can leave you alone if you want," he pauses, "but...do you mind if I use the bathroom? I kinda...need to pee."

Fuck. Of course. Just when you're about to lose your mind and go on an existential crisis.

You unlock the bathroom after a beat of silence, not even bothering to look up at his face as you sidestep your boyfriend and make your way to the couch. You plop down onto it, hearing the sound of the door shut close as you find your usual navy blanket. It's warm and comforting, wrapping you up in its warmth as the toilet flushes, Mingyu's coughs reaching the living room area. The scent of roasted duck fills the room and you sniff appreciatively. Despite it all, it seems that the food has survived, a proof that no matter how much humans may suffer, they could still go about and do their things right.

"Y/N."

You jump slightly, turning your head in his direction but allowing your eyes to stray along his shirt. The silence answers in your stead.

"How are you feeling?"

You shrug once more. How are you even supposed to feel?

It's a weird contortion of things that make you want to hurl the living room chair at the tv and one that makes you want to curl up in bed and cry and cry and cry.

The couch dips under Mingyu's weight once he joins you on the couch. Still, you don't look at him, rather deciding that picking on your nails is a better option.

"Y/N," he says once more, before his big hand is reaching for yours and stopping your actions with a gentle grip, "don't do that. You're going to hurt yourself."

"That's the whole point," you mutter to yourself, though it's not quiet enough that he doesn't pick on it.

He squeezes your hand in response, "we talked about this before, didn't we? The nervous hand-picking."

"Can you just--" your voice raises, as if in a holler, only to die mid-way up your throat. You slump against the couch. You're tired and overwhelmed, and it shows.

The silence seems to stretch out before you, with only the slow hum of the fridge keeping you company as you keep on staring at the blank tv screen. How have you come to this? How are you fighting about someone that isn't even in the picture anymore?

Ah yes, because you decided to re-open that door and let yourself wonder, picture, your boyfriend with the likes of her when you know it's only going to induce more pain.

“I’m not going to tell you what to do, or how to feel,” Mingyu starts, his voice shattering the silence like glass. “But just so that you know, every time you talk about this — about her — it hurts me too, because she’s not my present and I’m not in love with her, not anymore. You talking about it makes me uncomfortable,” he peers over at your face, “do you understand that, Y/N?” He says it gently, all his words without bite.

“Then maybe if you had just talked it through with me without avoiding my questions all the time, maybe we wouldn’t be here,” you shoot back, “maybe you like to take the easy way out a little too much.”

“I did give you the chance to talk about it. Remember that night when I told you to ask me anything about her that you wanted to know about?”

Another onset of tears builds at the back of your throat. Why is he doing this to you? What have you ever done to deserve this?

You turn away from him almost instinctively. This time, Mingyu lets you do your thing, not even bothering to try and call your name and honestly, you don’t mind. You need some space to cry it out and be with yourself for a little while.

There’s so much you want to tell him: why did he even break up with her in the first place? Why did he choose you instead? Would things have been different if you hadn’t told him of your feelings?

Would you have been happier right now, if you’d never been together?

ʚ♡ɞ˚

It’s been a few days and you feel like a corpse.

Your life is a walking nightmare, your mind plagued by nothing but the pain of realizing you’re a second option to your boyfriend. You wish that he could walk in your shoes, only to get a glimpse of what’s going on inside your head. In any case, life feels dull and void of colour in contrast to the lights blazing across the streets to celebrate the new year’s coming up.

Mingyu doesn’t offer to talk it through and you take it as his way of telling you he’s not interested in your bullshit. So wrapping yourself up in your thickest blanket, you barely leave the flat on the days to come, if only for groceries. After all, you don’t see the point when your world is crumbling.

It’s on a Wednesday afternoon that Mingyu sends you a text while he’s at work. You receive it in mid-workout, frowning slightly as the message pops up on the screen.

Mingyu: do you have time this afternoon? Can we talk?

You type back your reply with a mere “yes” before resuming your squats with even more conviction. You decide that you have to brace yourself for anything that might happen, considering that you really did fuck up this time.

Will your heart be able to take it if he tells you to break it off?

All thoughts and memories of what would be your wedding, the concepts you’d conjured, the white dress that you’d fantasized over. All those things seem awash with the pain of knowing that maybe this won’t become a reality.

That hurts.

The afternoon crawls by at a snail’s pace and you spend it lumbering back and forth across the hallway as your brain tricks you into concocting all possible scenarios that might unfold; you and Mingyu breaking up is at the forefront of your mind, no matter how much you try to steer yourself away from it.

The door creaks open to signal Mingyu’s arrival. You freeze, fingers finding purchase onto your shirt as you grip its corners, panic suddenly overwhelming your senses.

He’s here, and he hasn’t greeted you yet.

You’re not sure how your heart will take it.

“Y/N?”

The scuff of his boots squeak against the silence of the corridor as he pulls them off. Small a small gesture, which holds so much meaning once you realize you might never hear it again.

You force out a reply, “yes?”

A few moments later, your boyfriend appears looking disheveled and, to your surprise, holding a bouquet of roses.

“Sorry if they’re a bit wimpy,” he says sheepishly while handing the flowers over, and you hope he hasn’t taken note of how your hands are trembling, “I was late to pick them up from the florist’s.”

Tears burned at the corners of your eyes. You looked up at him, eyelashes glimmering as your vision slowly blurred, “why?” You murmured.

“Because,” he shrugs then, a small gentle smile making its way to his face, “I know you’ve been going through a rough patch, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be taken care of.”

You couldn’t help it.

You burst into tears.

And Mingyu holds on to you as you sob and soband keep on sobbing. All the pain, the fear of losing him, the thought of never being enough… all of these mesh into you and cras through your body in waves that rocks your entire ecosystem. Mingyu is there through it all, murmuring soft encouraging words as he rocks you back and forth against his chest.

The crying stops at some point, leaving you numb and tired, a slumped figure that leans against your boyfriend while he’s gently pawing away at the caked tears along your cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur out, breaths shaking from emotion.

But Mingyu shakes his head, “it’s okay.”

“It’s not—okay, and I shouldn’t have acted this way,” you whisper out, “and I’m sorry if I keep pestering you about her but the truth is, I’m scared I might never be enough for you, Mingyu, because I’m not. You—You deserve everything.”

Mingyu stays silent, still brushing the tears away as you wait for his answer. He finally turns you to him, holds you close in his lap so that there’s no chance of escape even if you wanted to.

In his dark eyes tou see your reflection; a disheveled maniac looking like she’s been haunted for days.

Mingyu probably thinks so too.

“I understand,” he starts off softly, “how hard it is for you to imagine me with other people, it sucks. And it’s not great, especially when you know these people.”

Your chest aches, another pang of hurt ringing through your heart at the mention of her. You suck in a breath, but he continues:

“But I think otherwise. I think she made me realize that maybe, she’s not what I want, nor what I need,” something softens in his eyes then, hands squeezing your waist, “what I need is right here, and nowhere else, Y/N. So you can cry about not being the first, but trust me, I want to make you my last.”

Another sob racks its way up your throat. You blink furiously, hands finding purchase onto your sweater sleeves to bunch it up nervously, “do you—“ you stammer out the words, “do you mean that?”

Mingyu nods, the softest of smiles on his face, as your hands come up to wrap around his neck.

“You’re sure sure?” You peer up at him.

He chuckles, “I’m hundred percent sure.”

And proceeds to kiss your next words away as if to seal the deal, to show you that yes, you are the woman he’s been waiting for, the only one he’ll ever have to wait for.

Maybe that’s just a baby step in your world. You will have more days like this, more days of insecurity and fear and straight up panic. That’s not something that you fix overnight.

But for Mingyu, you’ll try anything to make your happy ending.

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montaguespades · 3 months

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I'm very sorry that your NPD diagnosis came in and everyone made you feel bad about it, but coming after victims of narcissistic abuse who in no way imply that NPD itself is the problem is only digging the stigma deeper for you and the rest of your community.

Everyone made me feel like crap for every diagnosis I received over the years, and even for not responding to treatment the way I was "supposed" to. Why do narcissists get an extra special stigma pass on the internet?

Right, because they want one, and God forbid a narcissist not get what they want on any platform. In fact, it's so forbidden, that they'll publicly sacrifice their own illusion of reading comprehension to try and win an argument that would require them to admit that;

If my posts bother you, you probably don't want to admit that your personality disorder doesn't make you hurt people, you're just choosing to. Maybe you're insecure about someone you've hurt in the past, but they have a RIGHT to speak on who hurt them, and that scares you so much that you'd rather restrict their right to bleed than fix your own behavior.

#narcissistic abuse #narcissisticabuserecovery #cptsd recovery #raised by narcissists #living with cptsd #surviving narcissism #narcissistic abuse survivor #narcissistic abuse support #narcissistic parents #toxic parents #narcissistic abuse recovery

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kimetsu-no-yaiba-writings · 1 year

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Lol headcanons for Douma and Akaza pregnant demon wives being besties? Like Akaza hated Douma but the wives are like best friends and often go get tea? Like headcanons

The idea of Akaza sat (absolutely fuming) watching his wife having fun with Doma's - both of you laughing and drinking tea like no ones business - all the while, Doma's sat next to him yapping away, genuinely makes me giggle.

Akaza sat there with a face of thunder while Doma's all smiles (≧▽≦) and the wives sat enjoying themselves

Also for those who haven't read the headcanons about the pregnant S/O's both can be found on my masterlist but for ease I've linked them HERE (akaza) and HERE (doma) and while you don't have to technically read them to read this set of headcanons, please give them a read if you want!

I'll be starting with Akaza's reaction first and end on Doma's (^ω^.)

P.S I will be adding more stuff to this later but where i am is currently going through a heat wave and its causing me to melt (T^T) so i'm not running at full capacity

Doma and Akaza's pregnant S/O's being friends - Headcanons:

While Akaza's happy for you (his wife) to have a friend - especially someone who understands on a physical and mental level what its' like being pregnant and is going through the same experiences you are (even if they do differ slightly) - he's just not happy that it's doma he has to hang around with on occasion...

Now, Doma's wife is lovely so Akaza has no problem with her - always respectable towards her (as usually) and she's always a delight to talk too

Plus she's your best friend so it's safe to say that Akaza's always welcoming with her

It's just Doma he has a problem with....

More so than usual..

Always having to tag along when his wife comes over for one of your daily catch-ups especially the further along the both of you are with the pregnancy...

And while akaza understands the need and want to be near his spouse, it had to be fucking doma that was your friends spouse

Your best friend (absolutely lovely) and Doma (her husband) is a combo he hates

Genuinely when its one of your tea "party" meet-ups, Akaza wants to pull his hair out and break Doma's face because he just doesn't shut up - like, at all - once he starts talking

You'd have thought he'd have built up a tolerance for Doma earlier - especially with upper moon meetings and all - but surprisingly he hadn't until now

75/100 Akaza's in protective husband mode

Greatly amused and very happy!

Happy that you - his pregnant wife - have a friend who's going through the same labor of growing a life form inside of you AND it being Akaza's kind wife

Honestly Doma didn't really care who your friends (and their spouses) were until hearing its your bestie and her husband Akaza

The it became a whole other ball game

A game which he absolutely makes the most out of it

Did try to butter-up your bestie to get info on Akaza (for blackmail) but all that happened was they became friends too - Now those two are the one's with all the gossip.... A scarily large amount of gossip...

You see his eyes light up with glee whenever a friend date's been organised cause he knows that Akaza's gonna be there with your friend - at least he's out of your hair for an hour or two even if poor Akaza's the one he's now annoying

God forbid you start making plans in front of him with your bestie

Much like an excited puppy he sits there patiently, listening, waiting for the time to strike to slip in a simple, "Oh why don't you just stay for dinner? Possibly even the night?" - you'd be surprised how many times he's suggested this

There's a 50/50 that he goes off to bother Akaza, ends up in a fight and gets being brought home by your bestie (and akaza) just because you haven't seen her in awhile (and he wanted to bother akaza..)

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moonrisecoeur · 11 months

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soothing - leon kennedy

a/n: (PLEASE READ) hey! this is moon! this post would not show up in the tags with the long and detailed warning i put on it, so i made that a separate post. please read this post first before you even look at this one (that post will have the normal info like what content is it and word count along with more notes).

—

leon knows you’re… obsessive. he’s noticed your harsh glares and you possessively holding his waist when you’re both out together. he doesn’t miss the way you talk to other people, especially other people you know would theoretically be leon’s type. he assures you that he’s yours, he belongs to you, that no one will never get to have him the way you do, but it doesn’t make those feelings go away for you; it only mellows them for a short while.

he can’t say he planned for his partner to be so insanely obsessed with him, but it does make him feel better sometimes. especially when he’s having really rough days. when he feels worthless, like the only purpose of his existence is to be a weapon for the government to apathetically throw at problems, you’re there. you remind him, in your own twisted little way, that he’s valuable to someone. even if it’s in a “i need you like i need oxygen so no one else can ever have you and no one else deserves to lay a finger on you i will cut their hands off if they try” kinda way.

the world is fucked up anyway, who’s to say he gets to judge moral character? you make him feel desired and wanted, so what if you’re not a good person?

he’s rather introverted anyway, so it’s not like he’s going out every night and meeting new people. combine that with low self esteem and trauma from, well, being leon, he’s drained and can’t be bothered to care if you’re a little too obsessed.

hell, his last ‘relationship’, if you could call it that, was with a girl who tricked and betrayed him time after time and yet he loved her despite it all. maybe he has a type for the bad ones.

he loves you now. he knows he loves you. he knew he loved you when you once risked everything to save him, and he knew you loved him when you got very brutal revenge on his behalf. he kinda likes your violent side when it works in his favor.

but he still tries to keep you from doing the worst that he knows you’re capable of. he knows if he said more than a few words, or god forbid smiled at any of his friends who you thought ‘wanted him’ (because why does literally everyone want to fuck him?) you’d lose it. he tries to keep your temper contained, so he plays nice, though it’s worth it to him.

to have someone want him so badly that they’d kill for him and do anything to keep him… the idea makes leon’s knees weak. he’d do anything to feel wanted and needed for you. the more you claim him as yours, marking your territory, the more butterflies he feels in his stomach.

you tell someone, “he’s mine, so either back off or i swear that i will fucking rip out your teeth one by one.” he watches them run away pitifully, before turning his attention back to you. you’re smiling at him, and bring your hand up to play with his hair.

“sorry you had to see that, know you don’t like it,” you say softly.

he brushes it off, because he always does. he knows you mean well (even if you don’t). he knows you only threaten others or act violently because you love him and he needs that love. besides, you’re so thoughtful for apologizing because you know he doesn’t like seeing this side of you (which is not entirely true but he did feel bad for that person).

one day, you stumble upon him in your shared room while he’s crying. he tells you it’s okay, it happens, he’s learned how to get through it by himself. you shake your head, noting that this obviously isn’t okay. you sit next to him on the bed, wrapping your arms around him, and you two sit like that for just a moment.

“you’re okay,” your voice stills the air, brings him back to reality, “you’re not in danger, and i’m gonna be here to protect you, okay? i’m here because i care about you, so let me care for you, baby.”

he nods with tears in his eyes, resting his head on your shoulder. he’s forgotten what it feels like for someone to really care, to hold him and tell him he was going to be alright.

after a moment, he’s able to get his breathing under control.

“thank you…” he whispers.

“of course, baby, i’m here for you. i’m always gonna be here for you, i care about you so, so much, leon. no one else will ever care for you the way i do, as much as i do,” you murmur, and he doesn’t seem to notice something glaringly wrong with what you just said.

he doesn’t notice the thoughts swirling around in your head, adoring how fragile he is right now, wanting him to always be like this so he’s always this vulnerable, this dependent on you. he can’t notice any of it. he just lets you hold him, and holds you back in return.

you hold each other until he starts to pull away first, rubbing his teary eyes with the back of his hand, “god, i- i’m sorry. jeez, nothing even set it off. one minute i- i was fine! and the next…” he trails off, and you tell him he’s okay. he’s allowed to be vulnerable and emotional with you. you like him like this anyway. or maybe you just like the way his blue eyes shine when he cries.

and you’re wayyy too overpowering just as a person for him to ever be in charge, especially in bed. sometimes it’ll be soft, just two lovers touching and fondling each other, gasping and moaning and kissing wherever possible. but sometimes your possessive side comes out. it happens the most when he does something you don’t like, i.e. ‘flirting’ with someone else (he was just talking and joking around).

he does like your possessive side though. he likes being pinned down, and if you think you’re not strong enough, trust me, you can put yourself in the right position to make it so he can’t get out from under you. or you could just handcuff him or tie him up, that always works, but there is just something about being physically held down and kissed until his brain shuts off that makes him into a perfect fucktoy.

he likes when you pull out a marker and write stuff like ‘mine <3’ or ‘property of y/n’ on him. especially if it’s with a permanent marker and in a place that people can easily see, on his wrist or neck. he feels claimed, owned, a sense of being property belonging to someone else, not himself.

despite loving your darkness, leon appreciates that you’re rather… soft on him. you take it slow so he has time to adjust, make his heart jump with love and affection every single time you praise him (which you do often bc how could you not? it’s leon, c’mon now) he knows you have it in you to be harder, to fully degrade and humiliate him if you really wanted to. you choose not to.

one day you come home, covered in what he can assume is not your blood. his stomach drops at the thought of what you did, and he goes through every possible interaction he had that day that could have made you do something so drastic, so terrible and cruel. he comes up with nothing.

“what… happened?” he asks, nervously. he tries to keep distance between his body and yours, but you’re closing in on him.

“killed two birds with one stone… literally…” you smirked as he takes a cautious step back, feeling what used to be butterflies in his stomach turn to this heavy sense of dread, “that girl that told you your eyes were ‘so pretty’ and… that guy that touched your arm like he wanted to fucking bite it. don’t worry, sweetheart. i took care of them.”

were you expecting him to thank you? for… committing murder? he’s… at best he’s disappointed and at worst he’s literally horrified.

and it’s terribly timed, but on a separate note? you look insanely hot covered in blood. maybe the feeling in his stomach is only half fear and half something else, or maybe one of his kinks is being afraid for his life. who knows?

you come closer to him, and he can’t find it in himself to ask you to stop approaching him, closing in on him like a predator does it’s prey, “baby,” you murmur to him, softly like you do when you’re soothing him when he’s crying, your hands both coming up to cup his face, getting blood all over his cheeks. your thumb brushes against his bottom lip and he swears you’re intentionally smearing blood on it, “it’s okay,” you say.

it’s not okay, dude. you just killed two people.

maybe you’ve killed more that leon doesn’t know about, and tonight was the night you felt like having him see you like this. you could have gotten away with it if you wanted to, and he would never have known, but you chose to let him find you like this, clothes ruined from how much blood splattered on them, that sadistic ass smile on your face.

you wanted this. you wanted him to see you like this. you wanted to take him like this.

you lean in, pressing a bloody kiss to his forehead (imagine whatever kinda scenario necessary that fits this height wise for u i’m sorry >.<) before leaning in to kiss his lips, both tasting the iron and feeling the wetness of the blood dripping down your chins as he touches you back gently, his hands caressing your arms as you hold him and landing softly on your hips, like he’s saying it’s okay, i accept you for the monster you are.

he knows it’s wrong, he knows he’s a good person and you’re not and there’s a clear line that you’ve brazenly crossed, but he can’t help the butterflies he gets when you’re the darkest, cruelest version of you. covered in blood and all, you want him. despite all his flaws, you want him. he can’t deny you, not when you’ve only ever soothed him when he has traumatized breakdowns and assured him that he’s more than just a weapon or a tool, that he’s loved and needed and wanted.

you press one of your legs between his thighs, forcing his legs open and he lets you, whining as you continue to kiss him, and your hand palms him over his jeans. he feels weak, cornered, and you know you’ve got him right where you want him when you lean to whisper in his ear, “mine.” and he whimpers pathetically, nodding fast as you kiss his neck just a couple times, gently and bloodily.

despite everything, you’re just so endlessly gentle with him that he can’t help but let you get away with this. maybe if he could just get the image of their faces out of his head, he could get over it. once you’ve made him cum three times in a row, his body on the brink of giving out on him, safe to say that’s when he finally forgets. he can’t really think much of anything.

“oh, sweet little thing, don’t you understand? i had to get rid of her, she wanted to get in the way of our love,” you say. and he’d just nod dazedly.

“o-okay,” he mumbles. his brain is foggy and your touch makes it hard to think, but if you say it’s true, then he’s inclined to believe you. clearly, you were doing the right thing by getting rid of her. obviously.

“and that poor boy, it’s too bad that he was a whore, wanted to grope your muscles so fucking bad, hm?” you smirk, “did you like it when he did that? when he touched you?”

“n-no, i-i only like when you do stuff like that to me,” he says he exactly what you want to hear, grasping onto you for support, knowing without you he’d fall apart, “please, i don’t care what you do or… or who you hurt because you love me! just please love me!”

“of course i’ll love you,” your tone softens, you take the victory with a smirk turned soft smile, brushing his hair out of his eyes behind his ear, “you’re so pretty when you’re obedient.”

conditional praise; truly the best way to manipulate him for example: “you’re such a good boy when you only look at me.” that’s his kryptonite, because leon thrives off of praise. being told he’s a good boy makes him giddy on the inside, even if he tries to control his reaction. praise is how you control him.

and after you’re done with him, you put your clothes in the washing machine, take a shower, and walk out like your normal self. he makes you both dinner and you cuddle him to sleep just like usual. though while you’re fast asleep, he lays awake, thinking about what just happened.

he’s always known this could happen, and maybe this isn’t even the first time you’ve killed someone because of him. he’s known for a while now that you’ve become cruel and violent when it came to his relationships with other people, but he can’t shake the feeling of fear deep inside his soul when he physically saw what you’re capable of.

even in your sleep, you touch is soothing to him, and he remembers that he doesn’t really have any better options. he’s convinced no one will ever love him as strongly as you do (not just because you’ve told him that but because again, he’s got low self esteem and you’re way nicer to him than he feels like he deserves).

does he just let you be? no, that wouldn’t sit right on his conscious. does he continue to try and curb your violent tendencies against his better judgement and morals?

or does he try to leave you? he thinks he knows you wouldn’t ever truly hurt him, and he wonders whether or not you’d let him leave if he tried. (he’s not going to, but he wonders...) he just… doesn’t see what else he would do. find someone else? they won’t love him like you do. be single? sure, and be miserable every day because all he can think about is your love, your touch, you.

“what do i do with you…” he mumbles to your sleeping form, resting his head against your chest, feeling the slow heartbeat pumping inside. he likes how it shows your humanity, your normalcy. the one thing about you that doesn’t feel so far away from him.

leon loves you. truly. he doesn’t want that fact to be overshadowed by how disproportionately and insanely you love him. he loves you, still cares about you, still wants to see you happy. you make him happy, in some ways, even if you really terrify him in others. you comfort him and soothe him, you assure him that he’s safe with he wakes up with nightmares from the horrors he’s seen.

he wants to care for you, wants to be the one to hold you when you’re sad and you’re having a bad day. somewhere deep inside his heart, he wants to protect you and keep you safe. even if he knows that’s absurd (because you’re a killer… god he can’t get over that..) he can’t help that his nature is to care for people. maybe that’s what drove you to such insanity in your love for him: in his heart, he never stopped caring about other people. he is the same selfless hero he always was. his softness and care for everyone around him is what made you fall for him… and what made you insane when it comes to your love for him.

despite how terrible you are, he remembers all that you’ve done for him, the moments where your softness and gentleness really showed. he loves that side of you the most. that’s the one he fell for, after all. but he’d be amiss to think that’s the only side of you, or to not acknowledge the other. your cruelty towards people other than him is a side of you just like your kindness towards him is a side of you. they coexist whether he likes it or not.

he comes to the conclusion that there is no sweet you without cruel you, and he must learn to love both or to love neither. he decides he’ll love both, but still maybe try to keep the evilness contained. maybe he can try to talk you out of killing more people.

and when he begs so pretty for you to focus on him and not on the girl trying to flirt with him at the coffee shop, how could you refuse him? if you pulling him away to suck dark, tender hickeys into his neck is the alternative to you killing that poor girl, then he’d say that’s a win-win.

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mageknight14 · 1 year

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The Dangers and Flaws of Idolization: A NEO TWEWY analysis post

Transplanting and expanding on a thread I made on Twitter to fit within a Tumblr format.

One of the most interesting aspects I see in NEO TWEWY that I don’t see many people touch upon is the commonality between Rindo, Fret, and Shoka in how they look up to others as role models while simultaneously being blind to their flaws/who they actually are up to the end and how the game's themes are reflected in those relationships and today, I'd like to showcase why.

First, we have Rindo and Motoi. With that relationship, the game makes it pretty clear that Rindo looked up to Motoi as An0ther and used his words as encouragement to get through his own daily life and anxiety. The kid could barely decide what he could even eat for dinner before he had come across the account, so if you thought his current indecisiveness nature was bad, he was even worse before the events of the game.

However, what I find interesting is that even though he constantly spouts An0ther's sayings in an attempt to try and steel himself for the challenges he faces, he thoughtlessly does so and only lives by the sayings half-heartedly, since his indecisive nature and fear of responsibility prevent him from committing all the way. I think it's telling that despite claiming that "don't miss your chance to make a friend" is one of his favorite quotes, he's constantly at odds with the idea of bringing potentially new players on board the team even before he gets the chance to properly know/meet them and grimaces at the thought of the structure of the old Reaper's Game in the original.

Keep in mind that Beat saved Rindo's life at the hands of Susukichi at least two whole days ago before this occurrence.

Nagi’s Dive into his head on W1D3 actually does a LOT to reveal aspects of his character: he puts other people at arm’s length (besides Swallow due to their online anonymity) because he’s afraid of the fallout of what would to happen if he got involved with them.

"What if I end up taking on more than I can handle? What if other people end up dragging me down with them? If I just stay at the sidelines and shift the blame onto others, I won’t get into trouble for this."

"I'm in a group project; everybody is contributing and making decisions about how we should go about doing things. I keep my mouth shut and refrain from pitching in despite maybe thinking some of their ideas misses the point of the assignment, because God forbid my ideas could be helpful (or maybe they won't; that's life, but I won't know unless i speak up). We end up handing in our project and whoops, we got a C-. I guess I'm not responsible for receiving that grade because I never made a decision, therefore I shouldn't be accountable for my lack of contribution. It just makes sense."

If you've known/are a person that have had similar thoughts to this mindset, then congrats; you know/are a Rindo Kanade in real life.

This culminates into him latching onto others he finds capable and taking the relationships around him for granted, tying other people's worth to their prowess in might or influence. After all, why bother relying on yourself and others when you can just rely on someone else for you to solve your problems? Especially since it means that if everything goes south, YOU won’t take the fallout for it. After all, they’re clearly much more capable than you are.

To get back to his dynamic with Motoi, Rindo looks up to him immensely after finding out that he was his idol an0ther and came to value his input regarding matters within the Game. So when he eventually finds out the truth and is forced to confront the fact that his hero was nothing more than a content thief and a schemer who would trample over others just to survive, he’s understandably heartbroken.

However, instead of just leaving it there, the game decides to flip the script and have Motoi legitimately apologize to Rindo for his actions, leading to the lad in question learning to recognize that Motoi is ultimately an incredibly flawed human being instead of just writing him off entirely, (even giving him another chance!) and is, in many ways, a mirror to Rindo. Like Rindo, Motoi was deathly afraid of responsibility and the fallout of letting other people down, leading to him copying and pasting other people's quotes so that he wouldn't have to face that possibility. This aspect of himself only got worse when he got trapped in the Reaper's Game for multiple loops on end, forcing him to become a worse version of himself, lying, cheating, and backstabbing just to survive and even looking towards becoming part of the Reapers, the same group that trapped him there in the first place, just so he wouldn't have to be Erased, un a manner that's eerily reminiscent to how Rindo would took towards overly relying on others so that he would make it out okay. In that sense, Motoi is a look at what a grown-up Rindo would look like if he didn't take the lessons he learned within the Game to heart, which is part of why the latter decides to take Motoi’s copypasted quotes and apply them to his life in a positive way, deriving his own meaning from them so that in a way that contrasts him following them in a shallow manner from before.

Next up, we have Fret and Kanon, who form a interesting parallel to Rindo and Motoi's dynamic. Whereas Motoi is a look at one of the worst possible paths that Rindo could take if he didn't learn how to properly deal with his flaws, Kanon actually tries to coach Fret into becoming more true to and genuine with his actual self. She also shows herself to be a genuinely affable and honorable person even in spite of the bad first impression that she had given at the beginning of the game by stealing Rindo and Fret's pin for herself.

However, that's only the surface level stuff, as the game actually goes deeper with her character. While Kanon at first seems to be true to herself and genuine at her core in a way that Fret isn’t, we can see from the Dive into her head on W3D3 that she’s holding back a LOT underneath the surface.

"You always did have a way of destroying things" tends to get glossed over by some and for those who do look at the words, they seemingly come out of nowhere and can be seemingly brushed off as her just being under the influence of the Plague Noise. However , when you look back at some of Kanon’s actions and her words towards the Twisters (accusing the Twisters of sabotaging Fuya and making Motoi drop out of the Scramble Slam against his will, her mood changing when she finds out about Fuya challenging the Ruinbringers in one timeline as opposed to her more cheerful attitude towards Fret when she didn't find that out just yet, her acting suspicious towards the Twisters regarding their prowess as a team, etc), the implication is that she doesn’t just resent the game as a whole but also secretly the Twisters as well.

The thing about the Player teams is that they have formed an unspoken agreement where the top 3 teams (sans Ruinbringers of course) keep their footing by sending new players and other teams to last place, which the Wicked Twisters screw up just by existing. Their synergy and impressive Imagination powers (well, Fret, Nagi, and Sho’s at least) threaten the balance the teams have struggled to keep up for so long, hence why Kanon initially just sees them as another team to point snipe before she changes her mind on them. And while the Twisters do almost bring about change by beating the Ruinbringers, it ultimately doesn’t even matter in the long-run due to how incredibly rigged the Shinjuku game is and as a result, the DRS are eliminated, getting rid of Kanon’s and Motoi’s safety net.

Imagine this from the players’ perspective: you’re stuck in essentially what is a never-ending death game but you’ve got a system going where you can at least stave off your deaths for a bit longer. Then a couple of kids come around and throw that whole system entirely out of whack. And you think, "well, at least they can take out the top team and give us a fighting chance, right?" Only for those hopes to also get dashed because the rules are just that rigged. Like Kubo said, life ain’t fair and the afterlife sure as hell ain’t either. W1D5 and W2D4 are excellent explorations of this kind of mindset as it showcases the player teams falling victim to their desires and abusing their powers as a result of being stuck in an endless loop of playing the Game over and over again with no hope of escaping, as well as highlights paints certain comments made by the leaders in an even darker light.

With all of this in mind, it’s honestly no wonder that Kanon resents the Twisters but what’s interesting is that she tries to keep this resentment under wraps because she knows that it isn’t fair to them. They’re just kids after all who would have no idea about all of that. Hence why she admonishes herself in her Dive for wishing that they had just wipe out the Reapers altogether and why Fret is shown to be hurt hearing her inner thoughts about the Twisters in a way that’s pretty reminiscent of Rindo’s reaction when he found out about Motoi.

And finally, we have Shoka and Ayano. While it’s pretty clear that the two do genuinely care for one another, it’s a relationship that’s been tragically scarred by the events surrounding Shinjuku and the Reapers in general, resulting in a mutually unhealthy dynamic.

What I find interesting about the relationship is that while Shoka gets pissed whenever Rindo insinuates that Ayano must’ve treated her badly, she sadly realizes in another convo that she doesn’t know much about Ayano on a personal level or what her interests even are.

In spite of how close they are and how much they mean to each other, Ayano still put up emotional walls and closed herself off, never allowing herself to be on equal footing to Shoka and instead just be someone who guides and mentors her over the 4 years they were together.

This is due to her feeling betrayed by Shiba/others while simultaneously using Shoka as her one stable point in life regardless because everything is going up into chaos surrounding the Shinjuku Reapers and she finds herself unable to trust anyone around her anymore. And Shoka herself doesn't even realize this until the end when it’s too late because she was just happy to simply have Ayano by her side without thinking deeper about her and their relationship as a whole due to her own emotional issues and troubled past.

When it comes to children from broken homes, they are prone to imprinting on any adult figure that interacts positively with them and in Shoka's case, this is exactly what she did with the Shinjuku Reapers, especially Ayano.

A running theme throughout all of these instances is how they all involve the younger generation looking up to the adults in their lives as idols as opposed to just role models and thus fail to see them for who they are as actual human beings. And by the time they that finally do, it's too late for the adults.

You also see nods towards this theme via the Shinjuku Reapers and their relationship with Shiba or Shiba’s (who himself is parallel to Rindo if his tendency to subconsciously take on the values of others and mistake his as his own was twisted into the worst possible outcome) relationship with Kubo, with Hishima even flat out stating as such. "You fell at the feet of an idol like an utter fool", indeed.

And this all fits, as well, into NEO's larger theme that even as a 'follower', you have to question the 'leader'. Role models aren't bad -- but idols and failing to recognize their limits/flaws/toxicity are and will end up screwing you over in the long run if you aren’t careful. And I think NEO did an excellent job at exploring the little nuances that come with that, from Kanon’s internal resentment she knew wasn’t fair to the unseen distance between Ayano and Shoka to Motoi being a complete deconstruction of it all. It shows the good and the bad of idolizing someone too much. It shows how you can see the real them and turn the image you liked into something more with Rindo, or how to hold them in your heart while moving on like Shoka. It's okay to acknowledge the flaws and shortcomings of the people you look up to. Hell, it’s probably healthy to do that in some ways. As long as they’re still a good person or even helped you grow, you can still celebrate the good they brought

#neo twewy #twewy #the world ends with you #neo the world ends with you #analysis post #rindo kanade #shoka sakurane #tosai furesawa #fret furesawa #kanon tachibana #motoi anazawa #ayano kamachi #ntwewy

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citysweet · 8 months

Text

一 hot woman stranger

curtesy of nel 🙌 @moonystoes

《 wc: 443

《 rushed, but i wanted to write it before i lost motivation

《 might edit and make longer laterr

you swear your heart drops to your ass when some creep comes up to you. god forbid you try to have a good time alone. however, you try to play nice and kindly decline their advances. but when they don't seem to take the hint and back you into a corner, panic settles in your chest.

your eyes are trained on the ground as you silently hope to disappear from this situation somehow. then suddenly you do? a strong arm pulls you away from the wall you're against and into someone's side. "there you are baby, i've been looking for you." your hero says before you look up to give the voice a face.

she's got short hair and pretty eyes, you'd have endless things to compliment her on if that creep wasn't still staring at you, clearly bothered you weren't alone anymore. you give a somewhat truthful grin and your hands hold onto her arm. "i got lost, sorry love." she smiles and turns her attention back to the predator. "are they bothering you mon amour?" she asks,

you shake your head, not wanting to further the altercation, let alone drag some (pretty) stranger into it. but before you can speak, you're cut off. "no. we were just leaving actually." they say, reaching forward to grab your forearm. your eyes widen slightly, but then even more when your savior grabs their hand before they can touch you.

you watch her knuckles go pale from her grip, along with the dark glare she gives them. "you aren't going anywhere with her." she says firmly and you see the creep's demeanor change from brooding and cocky to something of fear. they quickly mask it and scoff, pulling their hand away from hers. "whatever, 'ts a waste of time anyway." they mutter, avoiding the short haired woman's eyes before walking away.

your hands cling onto her arm and you're still tucked into her side when she looks towards you. "are you okay?" she asks, her tone much softer than just a moment ago. you nod, "y-yeah, thank you. so much." she grins, shaking her head. "no problem at all." she says before quickly letting go and backing up slightly.

"sorry." her apology quick and quiet, worried she might've made you uncomfortable. to which you shake your head, "it's okay. really." she smiles before sticking out a hand, "elisa."

"y/n." you answer before talking her firm hand in yours and shaking it. "well, y/n. would you like a drink?" she offers, leaning slightly closer so you could hear her better. "yes, i would." you answer, suddenly happy you wouldn't be spending your evening alone.

一 everyone say ty nel for the idea

#一 citysweet's works #elisa de almeida #elisa de almedia fluff #elisa de almeida x reader #psg #woso #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso one shot #i love my wife #elisa fluff

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zairene · 8 months

Text

BAD ROMANCE. osamu dazai

* ˚ ✦ synopsis: trying to maintain a relationship is difficult when your boyfriend is apart of the armed detective agency while you reside with the port mafia.

* ˚ ✦ genre: headcanons

* ˚ ✦ author’s note: more dazai content!!!!!

you and dazai’s relationship is complicated to say at the least.

not because of you two, you two were perfect. he was anything a girl could ever asked for in a man.

kind-hearted. spoiled you like hell, and knew how to love you in all of the right ways.

the problem was the fact you both worked for long-term rivaling organizations. this was years of hatred between its leaders and it wasn’t something that could be reversed overnight.

so the both of you found a workaround.

trying to find time in between work days and missions to meet up and spend some time together.

going on dates in public is incredibly risky since everyone knew about you being in the port mafia and dazai being in the armed detective agency.

word spreads like wildfire—so it was best that you both had these moments together in the comfort of your own homes.

these escapades had been a huge breach of trust from both sides, but the both of you didn’t care. you both loved each other, and love conquers all. right?

“dazai—mmm—i have to go…”

he pulls away from your lips, and a dejected look on his face arises. the time that both of you could have together is extremely limited due to your busy schedules. trying to squeeze in quality time has been difficult especially when trouble has been lurking on the streets of yokohama for weeks.

“what is it now?” dazai said, slightly annoyed but a hint of concern laced in his voice.

“mori needs me. he says it’s important.” you started to fix your clothes, and got up to grab your jacket. you heard a small groan slip from dazai’s mouth.

“you sure you can’t stay just a little longer, darling? i haven’t been able to get you alone all week.” he grabbed your hand and pulled you back down on the bed. you frowned. he sounded so upset.

“i can’t ‘samu. you know how he gets, and he doesn’t like waiting.”

“i know that. i’m sure you could come up with some type of excuse as to why you’re a little late, right?” his words take more of a seductive tone as his hand starts to trail down your arm, and both of his hands snake around your waist. you almost start to melt into his touch before realizing what is going on. “dazai—i can’t. i have to go.”

you pull him in for one last kiss, his lips seemingly never wanting to leave yours. you also place one more on his forehead before slipping from his touch and darting out the front door thinking you had already spent too much time with him than usual. he sighed deeply knowing you wouldn’t get another moment like this for a while.

being from two different agencies makes dazai worry a lot sometimes.

he knows you’re more than capable of handling your own, you were literally one of the strongest port mafia members.

nonetheless, he couldn’t help but resent mori for putting you in life endangering missions.

what if one of those times you don’t come back alive?

he wasn’t exactly prepared for the moment he would learn that you were dead because of “unfortunate circumstances.” he couldn’t handle losing someone else that he had to learn to love and care about. not again.

this leads to him being slightly overprotective. sometimes blowing up your phone and asking where you are at, wanting to send someone to keep an eye on you so he can make sure you’re safe at all times.

god forbid that you don’t answer your phone after telling him you’re going on a mission.

sometimes it could be overbearing but you’ve kind of accepted that this is the life you signed up for. you were already constantly under surveillance by mori so being watched by your boyfriend wasn’t something that bothered you anyways.

plus it keeps him sane knowing he could swoop in and save you in any moment the situation is taking a turn.

< 4 new messages >

osamu <3: where are you?

osamu <3: are you okay?

osamu <3: if you need anything please let me know.

osamu <3: you know i would do anything for you. you know that right?

my love: yes, osamu, i know. i’m fine. i’m just a little busy right now. i’ll ttyl later, okay?

osamu <3: alright. stay safe for me please. i love you so much.

my love: i promise i will. i love you even more. 💗

trying to keep things a secret from the port mafia is actually incredibly difficult.

you were quite impressed with yourself until tachihara caught you text dazai during a meeting.

tachihara wasn’t a snitch by any means, so he minded his business and didn’t confront you about it until after the meeting.

he approached you and asked what was the deal with dazai. you tried to act coy, dismissing the idea. on the inside, you were freaking out. you couldn’t risk one of your biggest fears becoming a reality.

he quickly reassured you that he wouldn’t tell and lightheartedly said he knew how to keep secrets. he had noticed you being a little more distracted sometimes and looking at your phone a bit too much.

you remarked that you were extremely relieved. you didn’t give him the entire rundown of what the situation was between you and dazai but you told him enough that would help him understand.

same thing in dazai’s end, but he’s a master of manipulation and gaslighting. not even saying this as a joke, he would legitimately gaslight any member of the ada into thinking they were crazy that he was in cahoots with anyone—let alone someone from the port mafia.

plus, as much as he cared about them, this was for their good. because if they found out about anything, they would make it their mission to end things and he wasn’t thinking about doing that any time soon.

(📦) — BUNGOU STRAY DOGS TAGLIST // @4nthonyyliving @qqingque @lacunaanomymoused @ishqani @tanishtakuroko @yzilology (if your user is crossed, i could not tag you!)

(📝) — TAGLIST FORM :: sign to be apart of the taglist!

#✏️ :: — fanfiction !#bsd fanfiction #bungou stray dogs fanfiction #osamu dazai x reader #osamu dazai x black reader #dazai x reader #osamu dazai fanfiction

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thebiggestfuckgiven · 7 months

Text

a lil prompt for the few dp x marvel gremlins around. i see you and ily.

Be Like Danny:

-> get contacted by the X-freaking-Men to try to get you to join their school for mutants

-> say no because you can’t explain that you’re technically not a mutant, just half-dead

-> live a normal (Fenton standard normal) few months afterwards

-> get kidnapped from your own school by evil scientists (that surprisingly are NOT the GIW)

-> escape facility using your sheer wits (being annoying) and ingenious fighting strategies (screaming and blasting)

-> run away across rooftops from the guards hunting you down while being injured (and holy shit are we in new york??)

-> get distracted by trying to spot the empire state building

-> get shot with a tranquilizer by aforementioned guards

-> painfully fall down into an alleyway, without seeing the empire state building (boo)

-> begin passing out but not before you see some red guy with literal horns (satan??) fight off the baddies after you

-> wake up hours later in satan’s lawyer’s (???) office, confused, dazed, and a little scared

-> pretend to still be passed out while desperately thinking up how to explain why guys with guns were chasing you down in the middle of new york without getting dragged off to the police

-> hope for the best

Random Excerpt-

Matt didn’t feel comfortable leaving the tranq’d (and fully knocked out) teen out in an abandoned alley. Very few people would, out here in Hell’s Kitchen. He also didn’t feel like bringing in a potential new problem into his home, so he decided on the next best place: the office.

Needless to say, Foggy was scared near shitless when Matt burst into their office in full Daredevil regalia with an unconscious boy in his arms. In Matt’s defense, Foggy wasn’t supposed to be here. He sent out a small thanks to God that at least Karen was nowhere to be seen. Heard. Semantics.

“Is that a kid? Oh my god, Matty, are you carrying a dead kid around? Is there a dead kid in our office?”

Language, Matt bit back.

Foggy’s heart beat a violent staccato as he followed Matt into their conference room, breathing stuttering when Matt laid the kid down on the table and his head turned limply to the side, his hair softly shuffling against the metal.

“Matt!”

Foggy waved his hands around wildly, the sound fluttering in Matt’s ears. Without a word, he grabbed Foggy’s arm and dragged him out of the room.

“Please keep calling me by my name in front of a stranger,” he hissed out, annoyed.

“In case it may have passed your attention, that stranger is unconscious. Or dead, for all I know! Because you haven’t said a damn word since you slammed your way in here by the way!” Foggy was whisper shouting, staying close to Matt’s side. He could almost see how Foggy’s eyes were wide, if he tried hard enough. Listened closely enough.

“He’s not dead,” he let out before walking to the front door to lock it and make sure no one was around.

There was a light slap sound as Foggy raised his hands in a pointless gesture and brought them against his legs.

“Oh, yeah, that’s reassuring,” he said to himself, but not bothering to hide it. Matt heard him walk back to the conference room. He held back a sigh, ignoring it for the time being. There hadn’t been anyone following them, but he’s been doing this long enough to know that some people knew how to keep their distance well, or even knew how to disguise their heart beats (God forbid the Hand had any involvement in this). They could even have a tracker on the kid.

Taking all of this into consideration, he would rather be safe than sorry. He was standing by the locked door, listening intently for any odd sounds outside the building or on any surrounding roofs. Like the same footsteps going by, feet shuffling as though someone was waiting, heavy breathing, the smell of gunpowder, or the sound of a bullet moving into its chamber.

He waited, hearing no signs. It was one minute before he heard the exact moment Foggy found the kid’s pulse.

“Matt,” he heard Foggy’s voice, a whisper. “He-he’s dead. He- oh my god, I’m going to be sick.

The kid’s pulse, or to anyone checking by regular means, lack thereof.

Matt waited one more second before moving away from the door to save himself from the stench of throw-up.

“I said he’s not dead.”

#dp x marvel #i will say the original plan for this in my head was for dd to bring spiderman in #spiderman: *investigating a series of teen kidnappings in the city that he connects to a country-wide mutant experimentation conspiracy*#daredevil: hey so guess what #out of pure indulgance deadpool also ends up involved cuz he had been investigating on his own when #he crossed paths with spiderman #daredevil calls spiderman to tell him what happened #immediately regrets it when he hears deadpool’s with him #’nevermind the kid’s dead actually. no need to come over’#’too late we’re on our way already!’#matt @ foggy: we need to burn this place down now and fake our deaths #no idea whether matt actually hates deadpool or not but i just get that vibe

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idontplaytrack · 4 months

Text

Birds Of A Feather

Janis ‘Imi’ike x fem! reader

Warnings: angst, coarse language, mentions/descriptions of suicide & sickness, chronic pain

In which reader has had enough of the physical pain and wants to put her suffering to an end.

“What’s wrong, Janis?” Damian asked.

“Have you talked to y/n?”

“No, why?”

“I’m worried about her. She hasn’t been answering my texts…or calls. And she hasn’t been in school for what, two days now?”

“Did you go��”

“First thing I did.” Janis sighs, “Her Mom says she’s in the hospital but doesn’t want to see anyone. But apparently that means cutting everyone off.”

“Girl, you know she’s having a hard time right now.”

“When is she not?” Janis snaps.

“Janis.” Damian gasped, “That’s not like you.”

Janis sighs, shutting her locker. “She’s my best friend, I love her. But every time, every time she has a bad day, or has a bad flare up, god forbid she gets a migraine episode— she doesn’t tell me. She doesn’t tell you, she just suffers in silence. I have to pry and then she gets upset, then I get upset for upsetting her. Why is it so bad that she talks to me about stuff like that? Why does she have to go through all of that alone?”

You and Janis have been neighbours your whole entire lives. Quickly, you two became friends, then best friends. Going to the same school, you two only grew closer and became a trio with Damian. But there was a stark difference between your personality and theirs— while they were outspoken, you were an introvert. Janis loved you to bits but hate that you were so hard to get through to. Stubborn, afraid to be a bother, anxious.

Janis was the only one who knew how to handle you. Other people didn’t exactly know you like she did. Janis knew you were dealing with all sorts of shit— you have been for a big part of your life. You’ve been sick, due to more conditions than one. Well, other people couldn’t tell that you were. They were what your doctors called ‘invisible conditions’ and thanks to your freakishly high pain tolerance that you’ve built up over the years, you could function even when in pain. Janis could never figure when you needed help because you never asked for it. What’s more, this wasn’t the only time you were in the hospital for similar reasons and didn’t tell anyone.

You’d admit, you would love to just be held by Janis while you cried and slept through the pain and be comforted by her— your best friend. You knew she’d readily agree, but you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed if you did ask so never did, and just went through each and every ‘episode’ alone. You and Janis did everything together, everything. Experience a lot of firsts together. Everything, but this. Your chronic illness and pain was something you shared with her but she’s never witnessed your lowest of lows. Ever.

Eventually, Janis persuaded your Mother to give her the hospital’s address and your room number. You thought you were hallucinating when you saw Janis walking down the hall to your room. You locked eyes with her right before she knocks on the door and stepped inside the hospital room.

“Why the fuck are you here, Janis?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re my best friend and I’m worried about you?” Janis bites back a scoff, but her words cut through your heart, “I don’t get it. Why is it so hard to admit to me that you’re in pain. I may not be able to take it away, but I want to help you. Be there for you. We’ve been friends our whole lives, y/n.”

“All my life…I was always the problem kid. Something’s always wrong with me, something about me always worries someone, keeps someone up at night. ‘oh, she needs to take this medication every six hours’, ‘y/n has to go for an MRI scan every four months’, ‘oh, no, poor y/n needs to go get poked and prodded again because the tumor grew back’. I’m sick of it. I don’t know why you even bother with me, Janis. Why? Why can’t you just leave me like everyone else? I don’t want to be someone else’s burden. Anymore than I already have been. Especially not yours.”

“So that’s it, you just want me to get up and leave?” Janis sighs, her words harsh but her eyes…they were filled with heartache, brimming with tears. Janis couldn’t bear to leave you, not when you were so distraught. Not when you clearly need someone there to hold you.

“Don’t you want to get up and leave?” You answered, “I know I want to. I want to leave and never come back. Leave this earth so I don’t have to be in pain anymore. I don’t want this anymore.”

“That’s…” Janis exhales, “That’s so selfish.”

“Is it so wrong for me to be just a little selfish? I haven’t felt like myself in years, Janis. So I’m sorry, I’m feeling this way but I’ve had enough of pretending to be okay when I’m clearly not.”

For the first time in your life, Janis bursts into tears. She was sobbing, right in front of you. “Baby,” She holds your hands in her own, “Please don’t leave me.”

You swallowed the painful lump in your throat, trying to free your hands from hers, but you fail. “I’m tired of fighting, Jan.”

“Let me do it. Let me do that for you, I’ll stay strong for you when you can’t.” Janis says as tears streamed down her face, “I can’t live without you, y/n. Please, we’ve always done everything together. I don’t want you to give up now, baby. Anything you need, I’ll do my best to give it to you, to help you get through the bad days, please.”

Seeing her cry made you cry like a baby, “What the hell— what the hell are you saying, Jan? You don’t—”

“I mean every word. From this moment on, you tell me when you need to take the time off school to stay home. You tell me if you need painkillers, a heating pad, soup, tea, for me to hold you, cuddle with you and kiss you till you fall asleep and get some rest. I don’t care what time of day it is, I don’t care how shitty you think you look, I don’t care how far away I am from you, I will be there to look after you. I care about you, please don’t push me away. I love you.”

“You— what…?” Your breathing hitches.

“I love you.” She looks at you right in the eyes, “I love you, y/n. I’ve got you, it’s okay to…not be okay all the time. With me, you’re safe. I will never ever leave you like other people did. We made a promise remember? That we’ll always stick together.”

“Like birds of a feather.”

“Like birds of a feather.” You nodded, sniffling.

————

Okay, full disclosure, my mind just wandered and I thought of this little scenario and I had to get it out of my system so it’s not a polished fic by any means, but here it is anyway.

#auli’i cravalho #janis ‘imi’ike #janis ‘imi’ike x fem reader #mean girls 2024 #x reader #reader insert #reader imagine #female reader #lgbtqia #queer #lesbian #wlw #fanfiction #mature themes #Spotify #drabble

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