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May I please ask for headcnons for Mammon reacting to mc has enough of his tsundere act and saying this:
"Mammon just stop, please. Fine, if you don't like me I'll ask Lucifer to change you so won't be bothered with. I don't why I fell in love with you when all you do is hurt me. I try to be kind but you hate me"
Short Story
Much to Mammon's annoyance, he started to fall in love with this human that was just recently picked for the exchange program. He put up a tsundere front, never admitting it especially not in front of his brothers or MC.
It was after RAD in MC's room, after Mammon got peeved at Asmo cozying up to the human, who was just awkwardly smiling. Asmo went on to tease the second eldest which led to Mammon once again denying his little crush, but this time, MC had enough.
"Mammon just stop, please. Fine, if you don't like me I'll ask Lucifer to change my guardian. I don't why I fell in love with you when all you do is hurt me. I try to be kind but you hate me."
They escape from Asmo's grasp and walk off, supposedly to go to Lucifer. The two stood there in shock as something pushes Mammon to follow them.
Reactions
Mammon
He didn't want this to happen, not at all
Mammon loved this human, but his own stupid denial of that love led to this
"Hey! Human, wait!"
As he gave chase, he managed to stop MC in the hallway
He could feel their stare as they look back with an unimpressed expression.
"What is it, Mammon? You clearly hate me--"
"You're wrong!"
There was heavy silence as Mammon stumbled to find the right words.
"I-I don't hate ya! I mean.. Yes, I was annoyed... But ya grew on me.. But I just kept denyin' it and pushin' the feelings down.. I realized that it doesn't help anythin'..."
They still didn't look entirely convinced, so Mammon continued.
"So yea... I do love ya.. But "love" issa bit too extreme for just.. 4 months in, ain't it?"
They hesitantly nod, so Mammon nods back and lets go of their hand.
"So... If ya still wanna go through with the whole "swapping guardian thing, I won't stop ya... But that doesn't mean I'll be happy 'bout it."
They laugh and shake their head.
"I think.. I'm okay, now."
"Great... So uhm... There's a festival coming up and.. I was hopin' I could take you?"
"Are you asking me out on a date?"
"....Maybe."
"Sure~ I'd love to go."
"Cool, cool.."
Mammon's face was very, very red, despite trying to play it off cool
Summary: While you’re busy with some guy who’s clearly not worth your time, there might be something better waiting at your door...
Words: 2.3k
Note: Happy Valentines Day remember chocolate will be on discounted on Saturday
--
“I’ve got a problem,” you proclaim, putting down your phone onto the counter, making sure to turn the screen to the bottom. From where he’s standing at the stove, Tyson raises an eyebrow without looking at you.
“I’ve got many problems,” he deadpans, “but you go first.”
You know Tyson is talking about the struggles he’s been having with scoring, not enough goals after his name in the stats. But this is, arguably, more important.
“It’s almost Valentines Day.” At those words, Tyson somewhat freezes, before finally turning around to face you.
If you weren’t so caught up in this issue, you would’ve told him to keep watching the rice. Last time he tried cooking for you and took his eyes off the stove, everything literally crashed and burned.
“So?” he asks.
“So I haven’t heard anything from Calvin yet! How am I supposed to know whether or not to keep my evening free this Friday, if he doesn’t text?”
“Your evening is free anyway,” Tyson says, not unkindly. Which, it might be true, but that’s just rude, so you take the spatula that’s on the counter and throw it in your best friend’s general direction.
“Hey!” Tyson yelps, jumping to the side. “No throwing kitchen utensils! And I didn’t mean it in a bad way, just, you’re gonna keep that evening free anyway, so.”
“That’s so not the point,” you whine. “The point is that Calvin shouldn’t expect me to keep that time free, he should text me and ask me to keep it free!”
From Tyson’s expression, you can tell he doesn’t really get it. That’s not surprising: your best friend is annoyingly practical, and annoyingly male, and guys just don’t get this kinda stuff.
And then there’s the tiny detail that Tyson really, really, really doesn’t like Calvin, anyway.
You’re not sure why; they’ve barely ever interacted. They met once when you ran into Calvin while buying groceries with Tys, and Calvin was perfectly polite and nice, while Tyson spent the entire 10 minute conversation shooting daggers at your...
Well. Boyfriend would be too big a word. You’ve not ever had that conversation.
The thing is, things are complicated between you can Calvin. You met months ago in a club and you've been dating since, but not very regularly. It’s like one day, he’s interested, and the next he’s not. He texts you either twenty times a day or not at all for a week. He’ll either tell you he thinks you might be the one or tell you he’s just not ready for anything serious.
It’s like, headspinningly stressful, to never know what he’s thinking.
And yet, Tyson is probably right; saying no to him is simply not an option for you. It’s not even... Calvin is not the greatest guy you’ve ever met. He’s not the kinda guy you can count on, which was made clear to you when he failed to show up to help you move some boxes - you called Tyson for that, later, and he showed up within 10 minutes - and instead you got a call from him at 4am from some kinda club. Calvin is also not super funny, he doesn’t make you laugh like Tys can, and he’s not...
He’s not even that hot.
It’s just.
He’s interested in you. Sometimes, or maybe even most of the time. And it’s been a while since you had someone like that.
So.
“You should come over Friday.”
Tyson’s voice shakes you out of your land of dreams, and you land harshly with two feet on the floor.
“Huh?”
He rolls his eyes. “For Valentines Day. You should come here. I’ll cook for you.”
“You, cook?” you grin. “And this is supposed to make me want to come here?”
But Tyson is genuinely looking a bit distraught, his cheeks red and eyes fixed on the floor, and you do love how your best friend always tries to be your knight in shining armor, so you nod.
“Okay, sounds good.”
“You gotta keep your head up, babe,” Tyson says, before turning back to the stove, and you smile.
He always says that, whenever you’re complaining about your - nonexistent - love life: “gotta keep your head up”.
You imagine that must be pretty easy for him to keep his head up: he’s Tyson, he’s a professional athlete, he’s funny, he’s easy to talk to, he’s kind and caring, he’s attractive and cute - yes, they’re different things - so girls would be lining up to go on Valentines dates with him.
But you know he mean well, so you roll your eyes.
“Sure, Tys. How about the rice, is it ruined yet? Am I ordering pizza?”
Tyson’s voice is small when he answers: “Maybe.”
---
You’re about ready to leave to go to Tyson’s apartment for your dinner and movie night when your phone rings.
“Babe, happy Valentines!” It’s Calvin, because of course it is. You check your watch; 10 to 6.
“Hello,” you say, carefully. You haven’t heard from him a few days, apart from maybe two Snaps that were of very little interested to you, so it’s kinda strange that he’s calling.
“So, you, me, dinner at the Ivy, I’ll pick you up in half an hour. How does that sound? I made reservations and everything.”
Your heartbeat picks up; you know this is stupid, you should say no, you already have plans, because you do. You’ve got plans with Tyson and he would be annoyed if canceled now. How could you even get ready in half an hour? You’re in your sweatpants, for Christ sakes. He didn’t even take the time to text you before, he didn’t even bother to ask...
“Okay,” you hear yourself say, and Calvin says something you can’t really make out before hanging up.
Fuck.
But you’ve said yes now and Tyson is your best friend, so surely he would understand, right? Tyson is your best friend, so why do you feel like your hands are made of lead as you lift the phone to call him.
“Y/N?” Tyson’s voice is cheery. “Are you running late again? You know you don’t have to call me for that, I always add at least 20 minutes to whatever time we decide on.”
An involuntary smile makes its way to your face before you remember why you’re calling, and it drops immediately.
“Uhm, Tys, I’m really sorry, but...”
“Oh,” Tyson says, and all the cheeriness has disappeared from his voice. “You’re not coming.”
It’s not a question, it’s a statement; he knows you just a little too well.
“No.” You hate how small your voice sounds, how guilty you sound; you don’t want to do this to him, but if there’s even a small chance that Calvin wants to be with you, you need to take that opportunity, you need to...
“I’ll throw the food in the freezer,” Tyson interrupts your trail of thought. He sounds flat, like he’s trying not to show you that he’s annoyed; it doesn’t really work.
You know him quite well, too.
“I’m really sorry Tys, I just...”
“Don’t,” Tyson cuts you off. “I’ll see you later. Have a nice night.”
Then there’s nothing but the flat tone of a dead line, and the nagging thought in your mind that you might’ve made the wrong decision.
---
Two hours later, you’re standing outside Tyson’s door, your arms folded around yourself. You knock, but when the door opens, it’s not Tyson.
“Oh, JT,” you say, a bit weakly. “Hey, I just came to...”
“To apologize, I hope,” JT interrupts. He narrows his eyes, looks you over. “Where’s your coat?”
“I don’t have one.” You blink, a bit confused. “Wait, what are you doing here on Valentines? Shouldn’t you be with...”
“My girlfriend? Yes. But when my friends are upset and need me, I’m there for them.” There’s an underlying tone to his voice that you can’t quite place. “Your date didn’t work out again?”
And, oh. You like JT, but you rarely talk to him, so the only way he can know about Calvin is if Tyson told him. The idea, for some reason, makes your stomach churn.
“No,” you admit. “Listen, can I come in? I need to...”
But you don’t get to tell him what you need to do, because before you finish, JT steps aside and suddenly you’re met with Tyson’s apartment.
Except it doesn’t look like Tyson’s apartment at all. Because Tyson’s apartment doesn’t have a million candles scattered across the place, doesn’t have a nicely set up dinner table in the middle, doesn’t have a big bunch of roses in the middle of that table.
It doesn’t have Tyson sitting on the couch with a bottle of red wine in his hand.
“Let her in,” Tyson calls to JT, and you can immediately tell he’s been drinking the bottle. He’s not pissed drunk, not quite slurring his words, but he’s definitely mumbling a bit.
“Fine,” JT says. “I’ll be going, then. Call me if you need anything, Josty.”
And then he’s gone and you find yourself standing in the middle of the room, staring at Tyson.
“What’s this?” you ask, and you can hear your own voice as if it’s echoing in the room.
Tyson laughs, but it’s clear he doesn’t find anything funny.
“This was for you,” he says, with no malice in his voice. “I wanted to give you a proper Valentines date. But I guess Calvin beat me to it, huh? Did he show up this time?”
You stay silent, and he sighs. “He didn’t, did he?”
And it’s so stupid because you’re clearly the one in the wrong here, Tyson should be yelling and screaming at you and probably throwing you out of his house, but there’s tears burning behind your eyes and he takes one look at you and opens his arms.
It feels safe and familiar, to fall next to him on the couch and crawl into his arms. He smells like red wine and he’s wearing a nice button up, the one he usually saves for fancy Avs business.
“Want some?” he asks, handing you the bottle.
It’s quiet for a while, before you manage to bring out the words you really should’ve said the moment you walked in.
“I should’ve never ditched you for him, Tys. I’m so sorry.”
“No, you shouldn’t have,” Tyson agrees, and he sounds sad. “But it’s okay, I’m not mad. I just wish....”
He cuts himself off and you allow him a few seconds before your curiosity can’t take it anymore.
“Just wish what?”
“I just wish you found someone who loves you like you’re worth.”
It’s like everything in the room freezes, Tyson’s words echoing in your head. But he’s still talking, not giving you time to process.
“It’s just, he keeps leaving you for dead. There’s no way that makes you happy, you know? You’re worth so much more. It’s like you don’t know what you’re worth, but I know you deserve so much more than this.”
Tyson sighs. “I’m gonna stop talking and go to bed because I’m slightly drunk, but don’t forget what I said, okay? You deserve someone who picks you up when you’re down, who loves you at your worst.”
He stands up, stretching out in the middle of the candle lit room. “Someone who always puts you first, who wants nothing more than to see you smile.” He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Blow out the candles before you leave, will you?”
And then he walks out and the door of his bedroom falls shut behind him, a million words swirling through your head.
There’s no way he could mean... him. Right?
Except, what if he did?
---
You go home that night confused and still upset with yourself, and you barely sleep that night. Every time you close your eyes you see the sadness in Tyson’s brown eyes, but also the understanding.
Like he knew this was going to happen. Knew you were going to ditch him and then come crawling back.
Maybe he did.
But you also think about other things. About how Tyson always drops anything and everything when you need him. About how he makes you laugh even when you feel like crying. About how he’s always your biggest supporter, but never expects you to be at any of his big events. How he lets you complain without judging, always offers a shoulder to cry on and a listening ear, ready to give advise when asked but never shove it down your throat.
About how he loves you at your best, and at your worst.
And for the first time, that night, you think that maybe you could be worth it.
---
“Y/N?”
It’s not surprising that Tyson looks slightly confused and a little disheveled when he opens the door, because it’s only 9am, but you really couldn’t wait any longer.
“You,” you breathe out. “It’s you.”
“Huh?” Tyson rubs in his eyes, presumably trying to get rid of the sleep, and stares at you. “I mean, yeah, it’s me. I live here.”
“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean, what I deserve. What I’m worth. It’s you.”
Tyson’s eyes widen and for a second, a terrifying, horrible second, you think you read it all wrong; he didn’t mean he wanted to be that, he was just being a good friend, he just wants somebody to be that, he didn’t mean...
“Finally,” Tyson grins. “I told JT you would get it after all the candles.”
A weight lifts from your shoulders.
“It took more than just the candles,” you admit a bit sheepishly. “I guess I really needed you to spell it out for me.”
Tyson opens the door wider, motions for you to come in. “I could relight some candles. I don’t think last night’s pasta is gonna be very good, but I have cereal.”
“Hmm,” you pretend to think about it. “Aren’t I worth more than cereal?”
He waggles his eyebrows. “Lucky Stars.”
You step inside and throw your arms around his neck.
“Show me the way.”
But then he leans in and his lips touch yours, and well.
This is an apology to anyone who follows my tumblr or reads my posts. I am a terrible at spelling and my posts often have errors.
The only time I ever got an “F” in school (3rd Grade) was in Spelling and Penmanship.
Typing instead helps with Penmanship.
I “think” too fast so I regularly drop suffixes when I type.
Auto-Correct only helps with false words.
My fingers may have gotten fat (self-isolation weight gain?) because I’ve been hitting the letter next to the one I intended.
AND I have a scotoma - although I do reread items before posting them, I often don’t recognize a spelling error until AFTER I posted it.
Sometimes I will share an item with a friend via email or text. Because I think they may find it humorous or insightful. But some friends reply only with spelling corrections - not about the content. That puzzles me.
It’s like going back stage after a friends has performed in a show. If you only say, “That was interesting” you’re basically saying you hated it and can’t think of anything better to say.
Is that’s what’s happening when someone focuses on spelling instead of the message?
For one of my tumblrs, I’ve hired a proof reader to review the profiles I am writing. The content is more important to me so I want it to be more professional. But for other tumblrs? It would be too expensive. I hope my content comes through despite spelling errors.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Still struggling with the tenses. Just asking - Is there anybody here who is actually very good in English and would volunteer to proof-read this once it´s done (in about a hundred years)
Sometimes I´m just so frustrated that English isn´t my first language and I have to look up so much, even though I´m not that bad.
But I admit that challenging myself with a scene written in “Past Perfect” wasn´t the best idea - for someone struggling with that and writing a story for, like, the first time. I am not quite sure if it´s okay to jump between tenses. Since it´s already almost a felony in my own language, I am convinced it´s no different. But it also sounds weird if I use Past Perfect all the time.
So many hads (not hats!)
Besides, I am not a regular writer so this is pretty new to me. But my good friend, @teenagestudentducksblog already gave me like a thousand encouragements to continue. (Btw - she is kind of cowriting this)
So here I am - seeking for help!
