#I am not giving you permission to bug anyone else
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Sarita
Bug and Company masterlist
Taglist: @littlespacecastle @flowersarefreetherapy @whumplr-reader @whumpinggrounds @painful-pooch @i-eat-worlds @a-funeral-romance @rainydaywhump
Introducing Sarita, a very mistrustful new rescue who's just woken up at Alix's safehouse.
Sarita appears very briefly in The vet.
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CWs: BBU, pet whump, dehumanisation, derogatory language about sex workers and sex, past rape, religious mentions (in a bad way), victim-blaming, discrimination against Romantics, self-loathing, stabbing (brief, with a fork), past betrayal, caretaker new whumper, multiple whumpees
When Sarita wakes, she's nowhere she recognises.
So she's not back at WRU. That's good, the handler didn't catch up to her. She's not on the streets, which is odd, that's where she last remembers being. Not back at the safehouse that betrayed her either. So it's somewhere new.
Who the hell's decided they own her or 'rescued' her or whatever this time?
It's an old-fashioned kind of a room, decorated with sickly green and purple like some weird 70s nostalgia trip. The curtains, mostly shut, are heavy and dark red with patterns.
It's really weird and she doesn't like it.
"Yeah, I know. Not the nicest room to wake up in. But at least you did wake up."
Sarita looks sharply to the side to see a dark-skinned woman watching her intently. She has Bantu knots (at least that's what Sarita thinks they're called) and a braid on either side of her face, beaded at the ends. There's also beads of some sort in the knots themselves.
"Adalia, or Bug. They/them. Do you want some soup?"
Sarita sits up abruptly. Adalia doesn't seem surprised to have an injured woman in their house, and she has a bad feeling about this.
"Where am I?"
"Alix's safehouse. You collapsed on the street in front of me, and I brought you here once I found your barcode. You should really cover that up, by the way."
Sarita snorts under her breath. "Safehouse". Yeah, right. Maybe to someone who's not a dumb slut like her, who didn't give up their life to lie on their back all day. Never mind that she was a receptionist later, never mind that she cared for children and took care of the house and is taught and educated and was trained as a multi-purpose pet. All that ever matters is that she was trained for sex and had sex and so apparently she wants to open her legs for every damn bastard who so much as glances her way.
She doesn't listen to the rules (Adalia just assuming she'll stay for longer than it takes for her to get out of bed, apparently). She knows what they'll be. Don't get too close to people, don't try and have sex, don't lead people on, you can use the common areas but only when the other pets are gone and clean up after yourself (she rolls her eyes at that. It's not like she's going to contaminate anyone), make sure to pray for your soul because apparently being raped every night for years means she's going to hell, and oh yeah, don't even think of getting comfortable because we'll sell you out to WRU at the first opportunity.
She never chose that. She never chose this. She still hurts from the handler. And she wouldn't have even come here if she'd had any sort of a choice. Stupid body, betraying her like that.
She's not surprised. Everyone else has.
"And that's everything. What's your name?"
Instead of answering, Sarita shoots out of bed and dashes for the open door.
"Wait! Calm down!"
Sarita ignores them, running downstairs. It's taking too long, someone will catch her, but she couldn't have jumped out of the window. Not on the first floor at least, not when she doesn't know if there's a flat roof or what the ground's like. Not unless she was absolutely desperate.
She spins around in the hallway. The front door will be locked, safehouses don't like pets leaving without permission, especially her, but the back. The back. There must be a back door.
Where?
Where's the back of the house?
Front door's that way, back door must be the other way. This can't be too different a layout to the other safehouse, it can't be far away. She runs in that direction, ignoring Adalia calling after her.
She enters the kitchen and skids to a halt. It's a nicer room, she recognises vaguely, clearly redecorated recently, but that's not what she's really focusing on.
There's a woman blocking the door.
She shifts to the side and takes a step towards Sarita.
Sarita panics. She picks up the nearest thing she can find – a fork, four prongs, silver steel, gleaming in the sunlight – and stabs it into the back of the woman's hand.
The woman screams, stumbling, and Sarita bolts past her into the small garden. There's got to be– no– fuck, fuck, fuck. There's no exits from the garden.
There's no exits from the garden.
The majority of it is scrubby grass, although there is a shed at the end. It's green, metal, small, old. There only seems to be one exit. That's good and bad. It means she'll be able to see what's coming. There might even be tools in there she can use to defend herself. But she won't be able to escape easily.
She runs into the shed. It's mostly empty, but she dives into the corner, crouching, eyeing the door closely. It hurts it hurts she hurts so much from earlier, it burns, she wants to curl up around herself but it's too dangerous, she needs to be able to see what's coming.
She crouches there for a while, listening to the sparrows and moving leaves outside. It's nice and quiet, and she's not currently being hurt.
Then she hears uneven footsteps outside and scrambles to her feet, legs shaking, grabbing a pair of secateurs and holding them out in front of her.
A young woman limps inside. She has a colourful cane in the opposite hand to what seems to be her bad leg, and is wearing a choker and a knee-length black dress with a long sweater over it, the sleeves rolled up to uncover her hands.
"Hi. I'm Maria. Will you drop the garden shears?"
"Fuck you," Sarita replies vehemently. She's not going to leave herself undefended for this woman and all the rest to betray her.
Maria shrugs. "Okay." And she doesn't move.
Sarita doesn't really want to talk to her but she apparently can't help it. "Why are you still here? I stabbed your stupid safehouse owner. You going to hand me back to the reacquisitions team personally?"
"We're a safehouse. Emphasis on the word 'safe'."
Sarita snorts. "Yeah, right. And you're also safe for dumb sluts like me who chose to be a pampered whore because I couldn't be bothered to do any real work. Pull the other one."
Maria's face is strangely blank. "Do not. Don't say things like that. Please." There's a hardness in her voice that wasn't there before.
"Why? That's what everyone says about me. Why shouldn't I say it?"
"Because you shouldn't talk about yourself like that. And–"
She hesitates. Sarita is listening more closely now. No-one's ever told her that before. They're usually too busy insulting her.
"And I don't want to be insulted like that either."
Sarita blinks. Wait, what?
"Alix – the woman you stabbed – she specialises in Romantics. Those with Romantic training. The non-WRU equivalent. So don't talk about us like that."
That stops Sarita dead in her tracks. She finds herself unconsciously lowering the secateurs before catching herself.
"You're all slu- Romantics?"
"Yes. Well, some of us are joint. O's both Object and Romantic. Max isn't Romantic. But he came with me from the same owner and we weren't being separated."
"How long have you been here?"
"Three years, give or take. O's been here longer and Bug came with Alix."
That seems a bit long if Alix was going to betray them all. But still.
"Are you sure it's not just because it's easier to hand you over if you're all in one place?"
"Yes." Her voice is tight. "I know you don't trust Alix, but can you give us a chance? Or at least stop being so insulting."
Oh, fuck all of this. It's not just Alix, it's everything. She can't trust anyone. How does she know Maria is telling the truth? Sure she doesn't act like an owned pet but that doesn't mean she's not lying. Sarita stabbed Alix, who Maria seems to like (and from Sarita's experience, safehouse owners are not to be liked or trusted). Everyone she's ever met has betrayed her. Safehouses are just another type of trap. Why the fuck would she trust anyone? Trusting people just leads to betrayal. And letting herself get close just makes it hurt more.
"Of course I don't trust you. Why the fuck should I give you a chance?"
"You won't be trapped. There's a loose fence panel behind this shed in case of a raid. Just talk to Alix, that's all I'm asking. Then you can leave if you still want to. Please? At least leave with supplies."
Sarita narrows her eyes, trying to work out if Maria is telling the truth. She supposes she doesn't have to go very far into the house. And the kitchen has plenty of knives she can take. Because she doesn't fucking trust them even if Maria seems determined to persuade her otherwise.
"Fine."
Maria smiles tightly. "Good. Will you drop the garden shears now and come with me?"
Sarita drops them (she can't exactly bring them inside, after all) and edges around the walls of the shed, coming to stand near Maria, just out of arms reach. Maria nods to her and Sarita follows cautiously back to the house.
Alix is sitting on the flaking white step, Adalia wrapping her hand. Maybe the wound isn't too bad then, if they've dealt with it with a first aid kit.
Not that she'd feel guilty if it was. Fucking safehouses.
Alix looks up and smiles as they approach. Adalia tucks in the end of the bandage and looks up too, glaring at Sarita. Alix nudges them.
"Fine. I'll leave you two alone. If you hurt her deliberately again I'll kill you."
That last is directed at Sarita, and she nods. Not that she's planning to, but if she does hurt Alix it'll be because she has to run, so Adalia won't get her anyway. But seeing someone be so protective makes her insides ache.
Maria and Adalia disappear inside.
Alix moves her hand out, winces, and nods at the seat beside her instead. Sarita stays where she is, just out of reach, every muscle tensed, ready to run when she needs to. Alix shrugs.
"Sorry, Bug can be a bit overprotective at times. I'm Alix, she/her. Leader of this safehouse. What's your name?"
"Sarita. She/her." She thinks she uses those pronouns anyway. She doesn't really care. But other people do.
"Nice to meet you, Sarita. I think it's time we talked."
#whump#bbu#pet whump#whump writing#bug and company#maria oc#sarita oc#alix oc#box babe#lady whump#christians against pets are not a good organisation#to say the least#theres a spectrum re their safehouses but obviously Saritas is towards the worst end#its a terrible to least bad spectrum though#for romantics anyway#multiple whumpees#caretaker new master#whumpee and caretaker
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Hiii I hope it’s okay if I rant about a male to you but feel free to ignore me if it’s not ^^
So about a year ago I let a male friend live in my tiny, one bedroom apartment with me. He slept in my living room on a mattress I gave him.
He literally trashed my apartment—he left fast food bags, wrappers, cups, dirt, etc. all over my floor; he practically refused to do ANY basic household chores; he brought his other male friends into my home, most of the time without my permission, and played video games loudly in the next room at night while I was trying to sleep.
All I asked of him was $200 a month to help with rent, groceries, & the utility bill. This fucking asshole couldn’t even scrape up that much money when he had absolutely no other financial obligations. I worked full-time, 40 hours a week while he worked 10, sometimes 15 hours a week. And I still had to do all the chores if I didn’t want my apartment looking & smelling like an absolute pigsty 24/7. He was fully able-bodied btw and there was no reason he couldn’t get a full-time job like a big boy or at least do basic chores.
Instead he stayed home, watched TV, and played video games all day long while dirtying up my house, running up my utility bill almost three times as much as it was without him there, and eating all the food I bought with my own money.
Not to mention he litERALLY BROUGHT FUCKING BED BUGS INTO MY HOME MAKING ME HAVE TO THROW AWAY MY ENTIRE BED AND BUY A WHOLE NEW ONE. FUCK.
Thankfully this is the closest I’ll ever get to having a man-child husband as I’m a lesbian, but the experience was more than enough for me. I kicked his ass out but not after enduring his shit for a few months.
I feel so embarrassed and ashamed of myself. I am known by most people as a tough, strong-willed woman who doesn’t take shit from anyone, especially men, but somehow I let this male walk all over me bc I cared about him.
And it was easier for me to get rid of him than it likely is for straight/het-partnered women to get rid of their man-child husbands/boyfriends. I feel for them sometimes, I really do. Some of them are dependent on their husbands/boyfriends in more ways than one, but especially financially.
Well, I will never, ever let a male (aside from my cat) live in my home again. FUCK that.
HIII!! yes of COURSE its okay for you to rant to me about a male, i encourage all my followers to rant to me about the shitty males in their lives!
after reading your entire ask all i can say is... holy fucking shit
why are men so repulsive and dirty, i swear to god its like theyre in a constant state of being mentally two years old, they cannot clean up after themselves, take care of themselves and dont give a fuck about anyone else except themselves, NOT EVEN GIVING A SHIT ABOUT THOSE WHO HELP AND CARE FOR THEM!!!!
listen, you have no reason to be ashamed of yourself, if anything it shows that youre a good person, and friend, youre kind and thats a terrific trait to have
unfortunately someone took your kindness for granted, and im proud of you for sticking up for yourself and kicking his dumbass out
i love you so much anon, i hope youre doing okay now !! <3
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Things I would like non-wheelchair people to know
Do not touch my chair. Unless I've lost control of my chair and am rolling into traffic, if I have not given you explicit permission, that is a huge violation of my personal space. Think of grabbing my push handles like grabbing someone's shoulders. That's not a thing you just do to people.
If I don't know you, nothing about my chair, my body, my situation, or what I'm doing is any of your gods damned business. Think of commenting on these things to a stranger like catcalling. (If I know you it's probably fine, as long as you're respectful. Just like any other personal topic you might ask someone about.)
If I decline an offer of help, do not insist. I know what things I need help with a lot better than you do. (Nothing wrong with offering, help is definitely welcome sometimes, just respect my response.)
Okay, things that should be obvious out of the way, here's what the post is actually about:
I still prefer the terms "walking" and "running" for the ways I get around. I might say "rolling" or "wheeling" if the distinction is relevant for some reason, since I am ambulatory some of the time, but in general I prefer the same words as you tall people.
I need a much wider space to turn, or especially to turn around, than I do just to pass through a space.
Ask me, rather than assuming you know whether or not I can do something. I would love to go hiking with you, actually, if the trail is light and friendly enough to wheels. No, I can't ice skate, but I'd still rather you ask if I want to come along than assume I don't want to be included.
Which activities are notably more difficult is often not obvious. Popping a wheelie to get over a small amount of difficult terrain or even climbing a single step (if I have something to pull myself up with) can actually be pretty easy. A long stretch of ground tilted slightly to the left or right takes a ton of effort. Carrying anything that fits in my lap is trivially easy, but transporting anything that doesn't fit in my lap is quite hard (though I recently discovered my vacuum fits nicely on my footplate if I wrap my legs around it a little which is cool.) I am constantly surprised by little things that are or aren't harder than I thought they'd be, or are actually easier than before because I'm sitting.
If you are in my path, you moving suddenly is actually really unpleasant for me. I know you're there, I'm not going to run you over. If you're in my way, please do move! But jerking suddenly makes you unpredictable and I might have to stop suddenly to be certain everyone is safe while I process the change, just like if I were driving a car. Also like driving a car, stopping suddenly is unpleasant and a lot of effort, but the small adjustment to my direction I was planning to make is very easy. (Same goes for bikes honestly, or any other vehicle. That's what the chair is, a vehicle.)
If we're walking around together and need to get past some stairs, it's nice if you come with me on the ramp, especially if that ramp is out of the way. It can be really isolating to have to go a different way than everyone else.
If we need to walk close together for whatever reason, you walking directly in front of me is best avoided if possible. Bumping into your heel with my metal footplate is going to be a lot more unpleasant for both of us than it would be if I were on my feet.
In general, you should let me speak for myself. It's my joints that don't work, not my brain or my voice. But. If someone else is being disrespectful, your voice is likely much more impactful than mine in that situation. Use it.
I'm not expecting anyone to memorize these things; as long as you're treating disabled people like people, that's enough. And if you want to do more than that but don't know how, respectful questions are generally welcome. I just wanted to share these thoughts, for people who don't live with them all the time. There are a lot of little differences to being seated all the time that you just don’t think about until you’re there.
Also, while I think most of this is generally true for anyone in a wheelchair, obligatory reminder that I speak only for myself.
#okay to reblog#Encouraged in fact#Also okay to ask questions#To me specifically#I am not giving you permission to bug anyone else#paws.txt#it me#wheelchair#disability#we're just people#long post
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So my best friend's birthday is within 2 days, and she has this stammering condition or also known as childhood-onset fluency disorder, she loves Lady Dimitrescu and Donna Beneviento I was hoping if you could do a fic about a reader that has a stammering condition, you could do either with Lady Dimitrescu or Donna
I hope you take your time, there's no rush or anything😊
First of all - A very Happy Birthday to your friend 😊 I hope she enjoys this little snippet 💕
"I understand, my darlings. Bring them in."
You could hear the Lady's commanding voice even through the thick wood of her office door. All three daughters had personally escorted you there after explaining that they're mother sought council with you. And though they assured you everything was alright, you couldn't stop the soft tremble in your fingers.
It was Bela's small smile that greeted you as the door opened, quickly moving to the side to let you in.
"That will be all, daughters. Thank you."
"Of course, Mother." All three answered in unison before bursting into a cloud of various bugs and disappearing.
You swallowed hard, you had never been this close to the Countess before. Having been sent there by your father just a day ago, you hadn't the chance to meet her yet. Her sharp gaze following you as you made your way closer to her desk, a ring of smoke encasing her face as she leaned back.
"Have a seat, dear."
You gave her a nod and quickly took your seat.
"My daughters tell me you're newly arrived here, is that correct?"
You nodded again.
"I see.. well, I do apologize for taking so long to welcome you to the castle myself. Unfortunately, the work of a Countess is never done."
When you only nodded again, she raised an eyebrow.
"So, it seems what else my daughters have told me is also correct.. that you haven't spoken to anyone and won't answer their questions."
You shifted nervously in your seat. While, you knew this moment would come, you were hoping to have a little more time before anyone would notice.
The Lady sighed, sitting up to her full height as she came to face you.
"My dear, I can not help you if you don't tell me." She added, watching you closely. "That is.. can you speak?"
You took a deep breath and nodded. "Y-yes, my l-lady. B-ut when I s-peak.. p-people t-tend to-"
Alcina waved her hand, cutting your words short as she rose from her desk.
"I understand. People can be rather cruel, yes?"
"Mhm." You replied with a soft nod.
"Is it always this bad?"
"S-some days are b-better."
"Mh, and even still.. I'm sure it's something that has brought a lot of bullying in your life?"
"Y-yes, my lady."
"Well, I can't have a staff member not answering when they're spoken to..." She replied, giving you a stern look that swiftly turned softer as she came around the large desk. "But I can't have one feeling uncomfortable here either."
"M-my l-lady?"
"I'll inform my daughters immediately of the situation. Anyone seen bullying you will be first warned, and if they continue.. well, my daughter's will be given explicit permission to punish them for it."
"I-"
"I do not tolerate bullying of any sort in this castle!" She added loudly, forcing to you only to nod.
"Now.. " The Lady continued, straightening out her dress. ".. on days where you find your stammer is worse than most, you may use a notepad and paper to communicate. Does that sound doable?"
"Y-yes, my lady. Th-thank you."
"Think nothing of it. I'll also make some calls and look into a speech therapist for you - given that's something you think would help."
At this your jaw fell completely open, staring at the Countess as if you had never been shown such kindness.. and to honest, you hadn't. It was the whole reason your father had sent you there to work, after all.
"Y-you d-don't have to do th-that, my lady. I am just a s-servant-!"
"You are an employee of the great House Dimitrescu. And you will be treated at such. End of discussion."
The finality to her tone made you immediately stop and take a deep breath.
"Thank you, my lady."
She gave you a satisfied hum, making her way back to her seat.
"Very good. That will be all for now then, pet. Though, I have a feeling I'll be seeing you around."
She gave you a soft wink that immediately brought a flush to your cheeks.
"Y-yes, my lady."
You swore you saw a tiny smirk curl across her lips as you gave her a small bow - feeling for the first time in your entire life, that you were finally safe.
I hope this brings your friend some comfort and a smile for her birthday, dear! The both of you feel hugged 💕
#depravity answered#anonymous#resident evil village#lady alcina dimitrescu#alcina dimitrescu#lady dimitrescu x reader#re8 fanfiction#i truly love writing dialogue for alcina#shes such a great character#i hope you enjoyed this 💕#re8 asks
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Pacify Him { Daniel Ricciardo x reader } /// WARNING EXPLICIT ///
Chapter : One shot
Rating : Mature / Explicit / NSFW
Words : 3,622 words
“Pacify her, she is getting on my nerves, hold your bitch before I push her away. You’re free to bring anyone here as long as they are behaving, but her … I don’t judge the person you are seeing, obviously I could give two shits about it but please tell her to calm herself down … This isn’t professional.”
You were fuming as you entered Daniel’s driver room,as his PR assistante you never interfere in his frequentation, but when it was impacting the reputation of the team and bugging people visiting the motorhome you had to step him. You calm yourself after a few breaths, stepping aside from Daniel a bit before looking at him again.
“ I didn’t mean to come that hard on you Daniel, but please you know how this is important right. You always ask for my honest opinion and there it is, I didn’t mean it for it to step out this hard on you but I can’t apologize for my words when I was thinking about them. She is toxic for you, she brings the bad in you when you are someone adorable usually. What is happening to you that you don’t trust me enough anymore to tell me when something is going wrong ? And before you are shushing me off, you know I am right, you and I are a package deal. “
He was defeated, not even looking at you, his whole body was shutting down and his legs were giving up on him. He takes the closest seat near him, almost falling and barely able to sit gracefully like he used to do.
“ I don’t know … I am so lost, I keep doing stuff wrong, I can’t find my soul anymore, I’m not very myself recently, I can’t even find my smile being genuine in the morning when I wake up in the morning. I’m putting a mask for people to see, but I’m like an empty shell. This bitch as you call her is only here to distract me and try to make me feel alive. She is nothing and it was a mistake to bring her… “
You were very concerned about Daniel’s attitude, it was the first time since you have known him that he worries about you right now. You were kneeling in front of him, trying your best not to invade his personal space. It’s something new for you, not invading it, you never ever thought he needed one but he looked so fragile, then you were under the impression that if you were touching him he would vanish into dust.
“ You are scaring me, what’s happening, is it the team ? Something personal ? You know you can tell me everything … “ A long silence got installed, your eyes were starting to water by all the pain you were seeing in him. You thought he wouldn’t open up, he was shutting you out by the way his body was curling up and turning to avoid your gaze on him. He was protecting himself like a kid that was terrified of a big stormy night.
You wanted to be the one to reassure one, but you were practically sure you were part of the problem. You stand quietly, ready to leave him alone in his driver room because there was nothing you could do if he wasn’t letting you.
His reaction was imminent, the driver inside of him was popping up and his muscles memories acting for him as it was his turn to get up and close the space between you, shutting the opened door. You yelped out of surprise before feeling his pressing body against you. You were stuck between the wooden door and his warm torso. Feeling his heretic heartbeat pounding in his chest. You couldn’t speak, you were too shocked for that. You and him were friends, close friends but not that physically close. You never cross that boundaries, but today was different, you felt it was.
The seconds looked like hours waiting for the confirmation of your assumption. Daniel seems to be as surprised as you to have acted the way he did, it was too late to back away now.
“ Don’t leave … don’t walk out that door “ His forehead was now resting on the back of your head, slightly not to hurt you and put weight on it. You wanted to ignore all the fuzzy feelings flooding in your whole body, but you couldn’t. Having him so close to you awakens a deep feeling hidden in you. “ The bitch will go away I promise, I am sorry “
Why was he apologizing to you, he didn’t disappoint anyone, yet. You weren’t even mad, you learn better to not judge someone's fucked up attitude when you could recognize the coping mechanics of someone keeping a secret and trying to turn the attention away from himself for nobody to catch the true meaning behind these actions. Does that make it acceptable ? It was each individual to have their own opinion. It was annoying you, that Daniel was suffering but preferred to distract himself and run away from his problem instead of talking to you or anyone else.
You close your eyes, your own forehead finds the cold surface of the door, his own head following yours not breaking the contact. HIs hands find the side of your hip.
“ The bitch isn’t the problem isn’t it ? “ You asked without any certainty he will give you a proper answer to that. His thumbs were caressing the skin of your hips through the tissues of your teamwear shirt, drawing a circle. You were sure he didn’t even notice he was doing it, his body was only responding to one mood and it was the auto-pilot one.
You were searching for breath and the driver’s room was starting to get tighter by the meanings, you were about to suffocate if the situation in which you both were wasn’t going to change fast enough.
“ You are the only one that can take away my pain … “ It could pass for a simple sentence if it wasn’t so Daniel, you had learned the code of conduct of Daniel Ricciardo and that … that was a declaration. “ It was you and I before, remember ? “
You were missing a piece of puzzle here, what was he talking about, is he drunk ? You never act differently around him, nothing changes, it never does. Yes it was him and you, always have been.
“ What are you talking about Daniel, you are confusing me “
“ Why did it change, the two of us … “ He was responding to your question by another one, like he was having his own conversation in his head, you were tempted to let him speak his mind to discover the bottom of the problem.
“ It didn’t change Daniel … “ You were trying as much as you could to put everything together, in vain.
“ It did change, I can’t look at you the same way as before … “ There it was, a little clue. If only he knew that it has been a long time since you have been able to look at him the way he used to when you meet him the first time. It was more than annoying you that he had brought someone with him for the weekend, more than it should. You were fuming when you saw the unknown name on the list of guests and asked someone to lighten it for you.
“ I know you are lying, why would you react the way you just did before if you weren’t “ You wanted to look at him, but his body was still pressing you against the cold wood. You had so much to say and him as well, all this unspoken tension you both tried to make yourself believe was a liar. You were both frauds, your friendship switched into something more months ago after a drunk night. Nothing happened that night, only looks were exchanged. The battle you both had as a joke at first turned into something way more deeper than you both were expecting and when you both tried to pull out of it, the damage had been done. That night was an epiphany moment for you, awaking the true desire between you. Your bodies couldn’t lie, the need for them to touch, the flaming sensation of his skin against yours like it was happening right now. Everything happened before and since that night, it never was the same thing for Daniel and everything went downhill.
You move your hand, posting on the door and Daniel understands the message and detaches himself from you. You slowly turn, god he was a mess and you bet you weren’t better.
“ You bewitched me that night, seduced me with your eyes. It was a game at first and now look at us, where is the game now ? “ He wasn’t accusing you of anything, it was a simple statement, an understanding between you. Two people were playing the game and two people ended up losing.
“ That wasn’t my intention, I tried to pull away, it was too late “ Who sounds defeated now, the tables have turned and he brings you down with him to the bottom of his misery. A couple bruises on your heart that he created was all you needed to have the proof that at least you two had shared a moment. It had to stay professional, but as his face was closing up the gap, all your convictions were being erased one by one.
You didn’t wait for him, you joined him in the middle, your lips connected quicker than he had anticipated, your eyes shut down in synchronisation. You didn’t who reacted first and kissed the other one back. That lip was perfect, far from it, it was messy just like him, but it was passionate. His teeth were teasing your bottom lips, asking permission to tear the flesh of it apart. You moaned when his tongue was inviting you to open your mouth. The taste of your two saliva was so intoxicated that you almost fell and he had to catch you with both of his arms, supporting you from your lower back. His smile came back to life against your mouth, letting out a childish giggle and you hit his arm to make him stop making fun of your lack of stability.
HIs reaction was quick, if you couldn’t stand up anymore he would use that door to help you. He pushes you toward it and your back gets lean on it, his arms unlocking themselves to explore your body, finding where they were before except this style the hem of your shirt came loose, letting the palm of his hand directly enter in contact with your skin, sending you shivers.
You had forgotten your environnement, too busy burying your own hands in his dark curls, bringing him closer as much as possible. Your teeth were still clenching and air was starting to lack in your lounge. You didn’t want to let go, scared for the reality to be brought back. You have been dreaming for months about this. Having the fantasy in your head when the night was setting and the moon shining.
DSaniel didn’t let you think for another second as he used this little moment of rest when you stop kissing him for a second, to lift you up, grabbing your ass, his palm firmly around it. He moves you and remembered to lock the door before turning back his focus on you as he finally break the kiss to look at you. Lust could be seen all over your two faces. His face was not showing any sadness anymore, only mischievousness and happiness. If you knew that all you needed to do to bring back the Daniel you knew was to let your own desire take over you, you would have done it sooner.
He took the direction of the massage table beside him, putting you on the edge before finding your neck and kissing the soft skin. You let a snort escape when his scruff tickles a sensitive spot behind your ear. He laughs against the skin and the vibration changes the snort into a whining complaint. He traveled all the way down to your clavicle but the fabric of your shirt was stopping him. He didn’t wait for your approval to remove it, the force of the removal making you lift your arm automatically. They fall back on his neck when he throws the piece of tissue somewhere you will have a hard time finding back.
That was extremely hot from him and by your legs starting to spread a little bit and the heat you were starting to feel between them, he noticed acknowledge the effect he had on you and smirk, visibly proud of himself. It was not the time to hide yourself even if you could feel embarrassed, this man in front of you was everything you had dreamt of and it had the talent to make you feel confident of your body, just by the way he looks at every detail of your body.
You were eager to let him take the situation under his control and only his, not doing anything and just being the prize he was working on to have for so long. All the torment, the torture and the conviction he will never have you, he deserved it. You will get your prize another time … it was only the beginning for you.
He was taking his time with you,no matter how much his desire was waking up, he had one mission and one mission only; your pleasure. You could see the forming bulge in his pants and felt for him, imagining how inconfortable it must be for him.
It all went to dust when his hands found their way under your bra cupping your breast and his lips traveled your chest as he was kissing his way down. He was leaving wet kisses and blowing air on it, goosebumps started to appear quickly, head being jolted back.
You wish you knew what to do with your hands but they were gripping the leather of the massage table so hard your knuckles were getting white by the second. He didn’t seem to care as his hands found your pants, he pushed you a bit behind, making unspeakable demands for you to lift your ass so he could slide the piece of clothes down for it to join your shirt somewhere in the room.
You could barely keep your eyes open as you witnessed the extremely hot scene in front of you. Daniel between your legs, keeping the same pace with you, kissing his way up toward the inner of your thighs. You sensed his teeth nibbling your skin, licking every spot afterward, like he was trying to heal the pain he just caused you. Little did he know that pain you were feeling was arousing you even more, your panty was starting to visibly licked your excitement. It was feeling like torture, you thougth that Daniel would be like the others partner you had, your skin would get used to the touch after a moment and the horniness would stop at a certain level, thinking you had reach the maximal of his possibility. How wrong were you when you were on the verge to cum without him actually pleasuring you in this area. You knew it was coming, Daniel kisses were more hungry, teasing the flesh of your thigh turning red by the bite and the kisses.
His lips were swallowing, getting bigger by the unusual exercise they were carrying on, his tongue would feel numb if it was for the desire he had to taste you, letting it survive for a couple minutes still. You watch him, leaving a kiss on the wet fabric of your underwear, your eyes were blurrying by the anticipation of him finally finding your clit. His teeth end up moving the piece of dentelle that was the last barrier between you and him.
It was like he was home and belonged there, here with you, right in this instance, it was you and him against the world. Forgetting your environnement you let a cry escape a little bit too loud as soon his thick tongue was licking arousal. You thought that seeing the start was a legend, a fantasy, but Daniel had made you become reality as your head was banged back, finding the cold wall, your neck was stretching so hard that the blood was lacking in your brain making you see some sparkling spot. He needed you to stay quiet and as he tried to put one of his hands on your mouth he ended up finding the neck instead, squeezing it enough for you to moan his name as he was continuing his exploration of your pussy.
Your hands finally leave the grip of the massage table to find their new place around Daniel's arm. You were stretched out in front of him, so vulnerable, just for him and you were unable to give a proper reaction to being buried in the pleasure he was giving you. His tongue was teasing your entrance, making it hardening, pushing himself in you as you will. The thumb of his free hand was moving in a slow circle around your clit. He didn’t know the dilemma you were encountering, keeping your eyes shut and your head back or fighting his firm hand on your neck for you to see him eating you alive. You sure had to make a decision quickly because you were soon to arrive at the edge before you will let the orgasm consume your whole body.
By the sound you were making, Daniel had the confirmation he was doing everything in the right way for you. He never experienced such joy to make someone lose their composure due to his actions. He was feeling proud that he was finding it out with you. Every woman he had been with didn’t sound or look as beautiful and real as you spread in front of him right now. He could spend hours tasting you, how good you were for him, how reactive and sensitive your skin was becoming after being torn apart by him. How the thought of fucking you with his tongue had haunt his dream for the past couples of month now, but the reality of this was surpassing all his expectations. He wanted to be rough with you, all the dirty thoughts came back rushing into his brain, overwhelming him and sending twitch to his dick. Rather than being dominant, it was all about showing you how much he had wanted you and how willing he was to give you anything you wanted, because you deserved it. You deserved for him to make you forget every man you had sex with. Replacing all the bad and good memories with his own. Changing all the faces in your dream, planting his own in the own DNA of your imagination.
He could feel that you were holding it together for it to last longer, even if that meant losing the self-control you had in you. Your wall was tightening around his fat tongue. You were completely losing your mind at the foreword of sensation throwing at you at the same time. You were sure it was too much for one person and you could care less about the verbal explosion you might have in a couple of seconds. Daniel however, foreseeing your release, put two fingers in your mouth holding your jaw from your mouth, your lips closed themself around them and your tongue was soon relaxing on them. You bite his knuckles when his tongue replaces his thumb in one flick of the tongue, finally letting cum. Your legs were shaking and Daniel had to hold you for you not to hurt yourself, your eyes were rolling back as your orgasm hit you in small waves, sending you jolts of electricity around your body. Your brain was shutting down, the stifled moan never reaching the exterior of your mouth, dying down on Daniel’s fingers in sensual vibration that made his bulge react, begging to be taken care of.
It tooks you minutes to come back to the open world, Daniel’s eyes not leaving you for a second, admiring his work. You slowly come back to reality and automatically search for him, missing his touch already. Your eyes were still not open when you found the collar of his shirt and pulled him rather violently, crashing your lips together, taking a taste of your own juice still lingering on his lips. You sigh in the kiss, reassured that what just happened wasn’t just a dream and that you were far needing to wake up from it.You rest your forehead on his, the wave of pleasure was still leaving some after effects on you including dizziness.
You had to clear your throat as you realised no sound was coming it out the first time you tried to speak.
“ That bitch needs to go, tell her you replace her with a more living version. “
You couldn’t help but laugh at your own words and Daniel was smiling at the way you just described yourself.
“ She’s already gone, she was already gone before you burst into my room.
You didn’t know how to respond to that, but one thing for sure is that you will have a hard time making people outside of this room say that nothing happened between the two of you. At least you would not pissed them off and you were able to pacify him at any time.
MASTERLIST
#daniel ricciardo fanfic#daniel ricciardo imagine#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo one shot#daniel ricciardo fanfiction#formala 1 oneshot#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 fanfiction#formula 1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 one shot#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#formula one x reader#formula one imagine#formula one fanfic#formula one fanfiction#formula one oneshot#happyself#happyselves
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every day
w/c: 1.2k
warnings: little bits of angst
summary: you want to care for arvin the same way he does you
a/n: this came out of no where but i miss arvin for some reason so yeah here y’all go :D
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you cup both of arvin’s cheeks as your lips dance across his. his hands stay on your hips, thumbs hooked in the waistband of your skirt while you kiss, brushing over your stomach. the feeling tickles and makes you giggle against him. arvin smirks and tilts his head to the side to catch your lips better. you’re on top of him while he lays on his bed. it’s small, but just big enough for the two of you.
his tongue pokes out, running across your lower lip. you hum and bring one hand down to his chest, holding him in place, starting to kiss off to his jawline. arvin groans at the lack of kisses on his mouth.
he’s always trying to get right into things instead of letting you take your time. you find it kind of sweet how into you and your body arvin is. in every way, not just when you’re straddling him. he likes to make sure you’re warm if you stay over, and he’ll cuddle you until you’re nice and toasty. he’ll keep you safe by his side on late night walks or drives to the lake.
arvin has lost so many people over the years, suffered so much heartbreak that he carries around and covers up with anger. he’d like to keep everyone around who’s still here, so he loves passionately, even though only a handful of people get to experience it. knowing that and all he’s been through, you do your best to stress to him you’re not going anywhere.
you want to care for him the same way he does you.
“think i like ‘em better up here,” arvin rasps, your lips now trailing down his neck. he feels you smiling while you pepper soft kisses across his skin. when you’re in the reversed position, he’s leaving marks. deep, purple marks. you’ve agreed to calling them love bites because that’s essentially what they are. they stick on you and say the words every time you peek at them.
“well, i’m doing something else right now,” you murmur back and punctuate it with a longer kiss to the side of his neck. “bein’ a creep, you mean?” arvin pokes your stomach to tease you. you’re grinning despite wanting to be serious. “no, arv.” “what, then?” he wonders, you just shrugging in response. your not saying anything worries him. he’s quick to worry about you, about anyone in his life.
his hands moving to your waist, he suddenly sits up. you stay in his lap, a frown setting on your face. “something bugging you, angel? ain’t gotta hide it from me,” arvin speaks quietly and holds you in his arms. you were supposed to be giving him the attention right now. “this,” you sigh out, gesturing to him coddling you.
it’s physically noticeable that his past trauma is kicking in. he gulps so hard you hear it, heart pounding hard in his chest at the mention of him being the problem. this sounded an awful lot like us to him. he’s scared. he’s terrified you’re over him, that you want to break up, which isn’t what you meant in the slightest.
reading his mind, you take his hands that rest on either of your hips. “that’s not what i meant, arvin. i love you so much, you know?” arvin looks down at your thumb running across the back of his hand and nods slowly. “i love you, sweetness,” he murmurs back, locking his fingers with yours. “not sure i follow what you’re on about, though.”
“i feel like...” you bring his hands up to your waist, letting out a breath. “i don’t do enough for you.” arvin dips his head down so you’ll meet his eyes. “that ain’t true, y/n/n. not one bit.” he pecks your lips in reassurance and lets his arms snake around you, you smiling sadly at the gesture. he’s rubbing your back, never once breaking eye contact. you grab onto his biceps.
“see, this is exactly what i’m talking about. you’re always making me feel good-“ “damn right i am,” arvin cuts in to lighten the mood. a quiet laugh escapes you, then you get back on track. you squeeze one of his arms lightly. “i’m just saying... i never really get to do the same thing.” he shakes his head with furrowed eyebrows. “you losin’ that pretty little mind of yours?” your gaze falls from his face and down.
arvin tucks a piece of hair framing your face so it’s behind your ear and presses a kiss to your temple. “y/n/n, you make me so happy. ain’t smiled in years ‘til i saw you,” he tells you lowly. “that’s everything. you don’t have to kiss on me like that to be doin’ enough. you already do just what i need.” his words paint a real grin across your whole face, you winding your arms around his neck. “though, i don’t mind it,” he adds.
“stop being fresh,” you laugh out, arvin hugging your waist with a chuckle. “you sound like grandma.” “she’s right. never been wrong a day in her life.” you kiss the corner of his lips lazily before he’s burying his face in the side of your neck. he leaves what feels like millions of kisses going down it. “i really make you that happy?” you wonder aloud. arvin hums in response. “course, angel. every day.”
you’re reminded all over again how kind of a soul he has, how lucky you are to be in his bed and in his entire life. he’s so open with you. he lets his vulnerable side show through, which is rare for most others, and you feel so connected to him because of it. you aren’t sure what it is about you that arvin loves so much or that brightens his world, but you’re glad something does.
he deserves only good things from now until the end of time.
most people don’t understand him. they make up stories and believe whatever lies they’re told, and don’t even give him the chance to prove them wrong. he tends to pay no mind because it doesn’t matter, anyway. as the girl who knows arvin better than practically anyone else, you can tell that’s not true. the nasty things he hears about himself around school or in town hurt, stab him deep.
that’s why you’re here to pick him back up when he plunges into a hole of self hate. you’ll tell him who he really is, erase their gross words with loving ones. you have no idea how much that means to him.
“can i get back to what i was doing before?” you pull back so your legs are on either side of him, face inches from his. arvin quirks a curious eyebrow. “appreciating you,” you explain and steal a short kiss. he rests his arms behind his head, pursing his now swollen lips. “i won’t stop you.” your kisses resume at his chest as soon as you have permission, pushing up his old t-shirt while you go.
“if i can return the favor,” arvin says in a cocky way, his breath hitching when you put a hand on his thigh. “this is about you,” you drawl and continue dragging your lips across his bare skin. his eyes fluttering shut, he smiles to himself at the idea of being admired by you. “alright. i’ll leave you to it.”
#tom holland#tom holland fluff#tom holland smut#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#tom holland x y/n#tom holland fic#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland imagine#arvin russell#arvin russell fluff#arvin russell smut#arvin russell imagine#arvin russell x reader#tom holland au
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You bite your lip as Astarion approaches, his attempt to be casual somehow just makes him a little more unnatural, seems to make the arrogant swagger a little more pronounced.
“Hello darling,” He licks his lips, eyes running up and down your body slowly. “Don’t you look a tasty treat this evening.”
You try to ignore the blush that brings to your face, your pulse already racing at being alone with him. He sits down on the dry tree stump, giving you a slightly crooked smile as he gestures you forward. Despite the concerns of your group about the amount of time you spent with him, about the amount of influence they believed he had over you, letting Astarion feed from you made you feel good. He was a part of your team, you couldn’t just let him starve.
You had thought at first that he was lying to you when he asked if he could drink from you regularly, manipulating you for some unknown reason in order to… you’re not sure exactly. Keep you weak? Vulnerable? You were a team though and you were the main linchpin in your group, the leader. Having you defenceless would be more self-sabotaging than not.
Then as his requests, demands, increased to every day you started to feel more reluctant. Refusing completely until an attack had left you and Gale pretty badly injured, Astarion unable to help as he hadn’t fed in a while, was too weak to help you put up a fight. It had provoked a pretty serious argument after you had all limped back to camp, until he gently reminded you that “you have to eat every day, don’t you darling? So do I.”
You’d felt bad then. Guilt gnawing at you until you agreed to let him drink every other day, despite your companion’s objections. Even then it felt too much, feeling light headed, disoriented more often than not. But his gratefulness, his praise, the admiration that he cooed into your ear after every meal made it feel more than worth it. Even when he drank perhaps a mouthful too much he was incredibly apologetic and remorseful. Looking after you, bringing you food and water, being a constant protective presence over you the next day and keeping your companions at a suitable distance so you could rest. Letting you rely on him until you could hold your sword straight and could fight once more.
“I’m not used to such delicacies as you my love, not after surviving on bugs and vermin.” He shudders, eyes sad and distant, his mouth always in a slight pout until you reach forward and caress his cheek, reassuring him it’s ok.
“Darling?” His bemused call breaks you from your reverie. Watching you so intently as you approach that it sends a shiver of apprehension down your spine. You walk up to stand in front of him cautiously, and he pats his knee. You miss the annoyed frown that flickers across his face as you hesitate.
“I can go hunting if you don’t want to help me darling,” he grasps your hands, bringing them to his lips to press a gentle kiss to your fingers. You shake your head, and he smiles, tugging your hands until you turn around and sit on his lap, your back to his chest.
“I appreciate this, I appreciate you.” His mouth is suddenly very close to your ear, his nose brushing along your neck as his fangs just barely scrape over the skin.
You flinch at the sensation and make a noise akin to a whimper that has his fingers flexing hard into your hip.
“Not too much alright? Wyll thinks-”
He cuts you off with a small hum, body tensing beneath you. His hands drifting under your shirt and across your ribs, his fingers dancing across the underside of your breasts. “It doesn’t matter what Wyll thinks does it?” His thumb brushes over your nipple and you whine. “We know what we’re doing don’t we? I know how much you can handle.”
His touch is starting to cloud your mind a little, starting to lose yourself already to the aroused haze he always seems to provoke in you whenever he gets too close, and you nod, a little confused.
“I know don’t I?” he whispers. You can’t remember what he knows. You’re trying hard not to move, to not grind yourself against his thigh, you’re already wet and way more turned on than you want to be.
“Yes.” You’re not sure what else to say, but it seems to be the answer he’s looking for as he relaxes.
“Are you ready?” he asks, and your whole body shivers.
He doesn’t wait for your consent; his mouth closing over your throat in a gentle sucking kiss before his fangs press deep. You immediately arch into his hold, a ragged moan escaping your throat as he loops one arm tight around your waist to hold you flush again him, the other sliding into your hair, his fingers curling painfully as he pulls your head to the side.
He chuckles as he drinks, your intense reaction to his bite still amusing him as much as the first time.
You reach back to grip his hair and he lets you, but as you tug he bites harder, driving his fangs deeper as a warning until you give a cry of genuine pain and release your hold. He doesn’t always let you touch him, and if you do so without his permission he has no qualms about reminding you of your place.
He grunts as you try to grind down against him, the feel of his cock hard against your back making you moan. His hand slips down the front of your pants and you’re as grateful as ever that he insists on feeding away from camp as you thrust clumsily against his hand, two slender fingers slipping inside you easily.
You hiss as he swallows deep and he pulls away, nails scratching across your scalp soothingly as his tongue laps hotly at the wound in your neck. ‘Too much?”
Your attempted nod is uncoordinated and makes your head spin. He sighs, the hint of disappointment in it stings. “Just a little more darling, I thought you could handle this,” he presses his thumb a little harder against your clit, making you jolt. “Just a little more?”
His fingers thrust harder between your legs and you whine, so close to orgasm that you can’t focus on what he’s saying.
“Aren’t I making you feel good? Where’s my thank you, hmmm?” He nuzzles into your neck, breathing deep as his tongue flicks across the still oozing wound. “Don’t you want me to feel good too?”
You do, you want that, but, but? You can’t think, something about Wyll and -- Astarion’s soft murmur of your name draws your attention back to him. A third finger pushes inside you and suddenly nothing else matters, you just want him. The thank you’s slipping from your lips repeatedly as he continues fucking you with his hand. He doesn’t always indulge you, doesn’t always touch you like you want, like you need, but when he does he makes sure you tell him how grateful you are.
“Mine, aren’t you pet?” he presses a flutter of gentle kisses over your bare shoulder. “Such a well trained little pup.”
A brush of his lips over the sensitive skin of your neck has your heart skipping a beat before his fangs sink in and for a moment nothing exists outside the circle of his arms. the overwhelming pleasure as you finally reach your peak draws a strangled cry of his name from your throat, intensified by the black spots that are starting to dot over your vision as he swallows greedily.
I'm usually a 'kitten' person but Astarion calling you a 'cheeky pup' if you convince him to say 'please' before his sex scene just hits different!
Oh! Simply divine! The manipulation, the fine edged cruelty, that subtle but firm hand of ownership- Love it. Absolutely love it.
Falling steadily down that slope until he shoves you off the cliff entire and there's no return from the pit. Sensing the impending danger and doom but just totally powerless against him to stop it. Falling easily into his arms despite it being quite possibly the worst place for you to seek comfort. Literally ridding yourself of one danger only to walk directly behind and follow another.
I do not care what anyone says. This man is capable of insane amounts of possessor/pet potential and I am feral for it. Gods, this man will be the absolute death of me, I just know it.
This was absolutely wonderful! Thank you so so much for allowing me to read and share it!
#Astarion#nsft#not tomura#Long post#Morgana and friends#THANK YOU so much for sending me this I needed this#I love when people send me things I LOVE WHEN PEOPLE SEND ME THINGS#Dude i need to get help#my obsession with silver haired sadists is really ruining my life at this rate
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Do Not Fight Back - Yandere Purge AU
Hey! So this was part of a server wide event I did with other members of Lovesick! They’re all super amazing and you should DEF check out the others who took part! This is inspired by the yandere purge AU created by @yanderemommabean (we have permission to use the AU). Read the linked post to find out more, but to cut things short. Yandere’s are legally free to capture their darlings, and it lasts from 6pm to 6am!
Beta’d by the best person ever: @drxwsyni
This contain YANDERE CONTENT!!!
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It’s yandere purge night and you’re accidentally outside when it starts. It would be a shame if a certain flame hero was watching...
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Your job ran late today, because of course it fucking did. It was yandere purge night, not that your boss seemed all that concerned. Although, from the look on his face…well, best not think about that. He probably wasn’t after you, hopefully. You walked down the urban street, past the closed shops and locked buildings. You glanced towards the sunset, the sun's orange glow disappearing over the horizon. Wait, what? It wasn’t THAT late, right? Sure, work ran late, but you finished at 5 PM, not 6 PM?
You opened your phone, you had…a minute before the sirens…fuck.
You dashed into an alley, crouching next to a vending machine, it wasn’t ideal, but staying out there could mean certain death. You’re an idiot for even letting this happen to you. You’re NEVER meant to remain outside during tonight. A yandere could kill you if they even THINK you’re trying to interfere. You rummage through your pockets...nothing except a phone and some loose coins.
The sirens ring throughout the city
No weapon, no quirk, no safety, no chance. You hold your head in your hands, freaking out. No one would think of helping you, you could be a yandere trying to get at them. Your best bet is to stay here until it is over, potentially using the vending machine for dinner.
Your phone buzzes.
---6:01PM---
[HellFire]: Hello.
[HellFire]: You do not know who I am, but I have been keeping my eye on you for a long time.
[You]: Oh god…please don’t say you’re after me…
[HellFire]: I propose a hunt.
[HellFire]: I catch you, the obvious happens.
[HellFire]: You evade me for the next 12 hours? You go free.
[HellFire]: The rules? Always keep your phone on you and online, I will be sending messages. Respond to my messages, or you will pay dearly. Do not worry about other people, if they try to hurt you, I will burn them to ash. If I catch you, no fighting back. Break any of the rules, and there will be hell to pay.
[You]: What?! Can I at least ask some questions? Is my phone bugged? Do you know where I am now? Can I hide or do I have to keep running? Why me?
[HellFire]: Mind, I do not expect you to win. I am the number one hero for a reason.
[HellFire]: The hunt begins. Do try to have fun tonight, my dear.
…Endeavor?! Enji Todoroki, the number one hero, was after you?! You’d be flattered if you weren’t shaking with fear. You try to take some deep breaths.
---6:03PM---
[HellFire]: I would run, my darling… I doubt hiding behind a vending machine will do you any favours….
[You]: How do you know my location already?!
You run out of the alley; the street illuminated poorly by streetlights. Enji knew where you were, specifically that you were behind a vending machine. He’s either got cameras, or he was right in your line of sight. You sprint down the street, most people aren’t stupid enough to be out, and you give most yanderes a wide berth. You see one with a darling, you force your eyes away and continue to run.
Your lungs are burning, exercise isn’t your strong point, and one can’t operate on adrenaline alone.
---6:09PM---
[HellFire]: Tired already? I did not realise you were so weak…such a pity, I expected a fight from you…
[You]: No one expects to be running down a street from a goddamn villain?!
[HellFire]: …disrespect?
[HellFire]: Unacceptable.
As you’re running, a car behind you blows up, fire scattering onto the street. You still can’t see him.
You notice a mall still open. None of the shops would be in business, but the area might provide a suitable hiding place. You run into it, sliding doors opening to let you into the air-conditioned space. You steal a glance behind you, no one visible on the street or rooftops.
---6:11PM---
[HellFire]: A shopping centre? I hope you do not expect a gaudy fountain to save you.
[You]: Fuck you, honestly.
[HellFire]: That is quite a bold statement for someone in your position.
[HellFire]: Most criminals at this point are kissing my boots, begging for mercy, and yet, you show defiance. Breaking you should be fun.
You run down a corridor, reaching an entirely empty circular food court. Fast food shops line the walls, with two, opposite facing exits to the area, both leading onto streets. Silence is abundant as you run through, dodging chairs and tables, desperate to make it to the other side.
The sound of an electronic sliding door reaches your ears. Panicking, you dive over a business’s countertop, hiding behind it as you try not to breathe too loudly. You hastily switch your notifications off, so him texting you won’t reveal your location.
---6:15PM---
[HellFire]: You know something I learnt from my job?
[You]: What?
[HellFire]: Someone can know they are being hunted, but not know they are already trapped. The villains are overburdened by fear and hope, of both capture and escape. They desperately reach their hands out to touch a goal you know is impossible to reach.
[HellFire]: That feeling… of knowing their entire future is at my mercy…
[HellFire]: is sublime.
[HellFire]: …
[HellFire]: Say, how are you finding that uncomfortable food stall floor?
“Hello, darling…”
“No! Get away from me!”
You bound over the counter, avoiding his hands, and desperately try to reach the exit. You turn around, and he is just…standing there. Looking at you. With a smirking grin on his face. He’s wearing his hero suit, flames dancing up his body. He loves this, he likes thinking you’re some object to be captured. You run out onto the street, cold night air hitting you in the face, the sun has entirely disappeared now, all traces of it gone.
Where the hell can you go that you’ll be safe?! It hasn’t even been 30 minutes of this torture; you’ve got so much time left! Panting, you notice he has exited the building too, but he just stands there, looking at you, grin adorning his face. You spot a train station.
You run towards the train station and don’t look back. You jump the ticket gate, feeling that your life matters more than a civic duty. You run up the stairs onto the platform. The trains won’t be running, but maybe you can run along the tracks if it comes down to it? As you try to catch your breath, you realise something…you turned your phone notifications off in the mall, which means he could be messaging you, and you wouldn’t know.
Scrambling you pull out your phone.
---6:22---
[HellFire]: If I were you, I would not take another step towards that train station.
[HellFire]: ...?
[HellFire]: Oh, are you not checking your messages now?
[HellFire]: I warned you, remember that…
---6:30---
[You]: I’m sorry! I swear, I didn’t mean to ignore it! It was my phone
[HellFire]: I can not believe what I just saw.
[HellFire]: You leapt over that gate like a common criminal.
[HellFire]: So, now I have to punish you for multiple reasons. You ignored so many rules…
[You]: I didn’t mean to, I swear! I’m sorry! Please don’t hurt me!
[HellFire]: You fought back when you were captured.
[You]: It wasn’t fighting back?! It was escaping, capture would be grabbing me.
[HellFire]: You didn’t check your messages.
[You]: Like I said, my phone was off, it was an accident!
[HellFire]: You IGNORED my commands.
[You]: My phone was off! I didn’t KNOW there were commands!
[HellFire]: You broke the law.
[You]: I was going to go back and pay the $1.50 tomorrow!
[HellFire]: And we are only 30 minutes into this hunt.
[HellFire]: Tell me, darling.
[HellFire]: Did you really think you could outrun me?
[HellFire]: The top hero?
[HellFire]: I knew you were not the smartest person, considering, well, everything about you.
[HellFire]: But this really takes the cake.
[You]: Oh, honestly, fuck you. Why do you even WANT me?! We’ve NEVER met!
[HellFire]: …you’re quite disrespectful…
[HellFire]: I will have to fix that.
“Face me.”
You whip around to see him staring at you, sadistic grin adorning his face. You turn to run, but his large hands grab your arms, holding you in place. He picks you up and turns you around, so you’re facing him. His hands are noticeably warmer than they should be.
“There. Captured enough for you?” He says with a smirk.
“Please! Just let me go!” You shout, struggling against his arms fruitlessly. You scream and kick, managing to bring a foot against his knee. He noticeably winces.
“I warned you about fighting back, you insolent brat!” His face steels as his hands become warmer. You can now feel his breath down your face as your squirm, desperate to escape the burning hands and singing clothes.
“I…I…Why me?!” Tears start to fall down your face as you realise this might be your fate.
“Because you shouldn’t be anyone else’s. Do you recall that train villain? Such a stupid villain, but I digress. I saw you try to help people, helping people off the train when it arrived at the station and calming that little kid. It was so…kind, so generous. You were a true hero. I need that in my life, so you are mine.” He at least has the decency to not look you directly in the eyes. His hands cooled down a bit while he was speaking. He seems somewhat ashamed by what he’s done.
Somewhat.
“You could’ve just approached me! Hell, I’m not going to turn down a meeting with the number one hero?! You’re a fucking idiot!”
“Attacking someone while they are vulnerable is usually considered bad form, brat. But I see you have no qualms attacking me.” His palms heat up again, but he seems to have a looser grip on you. Maybe if you…
“I’m sorry, okay? This is just a lot to take in. I…I do admire you, as a hero y’know? I always considered you so calming. You made the city feel so much s-safer, you made ME feel safer.” You look him in the eyes, trying to act as small and gentle as possible. His warm breath washes over your body as he seems to re-examine you. Just a little bit further and…
You bring your knee into his lungs as he is breathing in, winding him. He drops you and you turn on your heel and jump onto the train tracks, running off down the tracks.
He shouts after you.
“Bad idea brat! You want to be punished? Fine then!”
You stare ahead, no trains seem to be running, so you won’t have to make a choice between death and getting run over by a train. You follow the train tracks until you reach a tunnel. You turn around and see him merely walking menacingly toward you, not even running. He has such an angry look on his face, flame beard shooting out in rage. The fire touches a signal box, and it melts to the ground almost instantly. Yeah, no, you aren’t dealing with that. You turn and run inside the tunnel, desperate to escape him. You hear a roar from behind you as fire shoots past your head, hitting the cylindrical wall and dissipating.
“I missed on purpose, stop at once! I will not hesitate you ungrateful bitch!”
You stop and turn around to face him, tremors running through your body.
“Stop approaching me, please?! Can’t we just talk?!” You say shuffling back with each step he takes towards you.
He raises an eyebrow, and astonishingly, he stops, about 8 paces away.
“Fine.”
“I…please, just let me go! I don’t want this!” you say, tears running down your face.
“And why would I care what YOU want, bitch?”
“Because y-you love me o-or ..desire me or something?!”
“Pfft. Maybe, but you know how this works by now.” He takes a step forward, you stand still. His flames cast flickering shadows against the tunnel walls.
“I’m sure you have co-workers, family, friends, who disappeared never to be seen again, OR have a pet of their own.” He takes a step forward, you stand still. His feet leave the rocks red hot.
“You know you cannot escape me. It has not even been an hour.” He steps forward, you stand still. You can feel his heat now.
“Do you expect to run all over the city, making daring escapes and just barely being able to stay out of my grasp for 12 hours? To evade capture from the number one hero?” He steps forward, you stand still. His flames die down, but your body feels like it’s overheating.
“You woke up at 5:12 AM today and had a shift from 7 AM to 5:45 PM. You are not going to be able to keep up this adrenaline and energy til 6AM tomorrow. Being awake for 24 hours is not an easy feat, my dear.“ He steps forward, you stand still. Your tears on your face start to evaporate.
“Oh, do remind me to thank your boss for keeping you late. Money does wonders to people's sense of ethics.” He steps forward, you stand still. He chuckles quietly at the situation and examines your body.
“You cannot escape me, you have no quirk, no talents, no skills. This is not a fair fight because it is not a fight, my dear. It is a hunt, and you seem to have this silly notion that the fox can escape the hound.” He steps forward, you stand still. His hand reaches out to grab your arm, and you do nothing to stop it.
“Advice for your new life, when I give a command, my dear, it helps to oblige. So, hear me when I say: Do. Not. Fight. Back.”
You do not fight back.
#endeavor#enji todoroki#yandere#yandere bnha#yandere mha#bnha#mha#reader insert#gender-neutral reader#yandere enji todoroki#yandere endeavor#yandere enji x reader#enji todoroki x reader#yandere purge#yandere purge au#lovesick collab#implexedactions#enji x reader#Long Fic#ImplexedWriting
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Stuffies
PART 3! Sick Cuddles!
Description: You are in sick and need of lot of hugs and cuddles!
or….adventures and cute stories with a reader/MC who carries stuffed animals around all over Devildom.
Pairing(s): NONE!
Word Count: 2,436
Link to my AO3: Click Here
Author’s Notes: So sorry for the long wait, I am super happy to be writing again! Enjoy the fluff~
Part One Part Two
_+_
This was the worst ever. You would think the common cold had no place in the Devildom but how wrong you were.
You coughed into your forearm and groaned. “Whyyy me,” you moaned.
Lucifer sighed. “Because you decided to go on a midnight stroll with Mammon. With no coat, might I add.”
You glared halfheartedly at him, but he glared ten times stronger back. He was too powerful. You sniffled and melted back into your bed, laying against a stack of stuffed animals and fluffed up pillows. Everything was sore, and you were freezing. So cold that even the multitude of fluffiness around you did nothing.
The Avatar of Pride hovered over you, his arms crossed and stern looking. “Just rest for now. I have Solomon preparing some medicine that you’ll be able to take.”
You stiffened. “So-solomon…?”
He chuckled. “Don’t worry. While his food is terribly inedible, he is one of the best potion makers we have around. I trust him in this.”
“You won’t let me die, will you Luci?” you said, then sneezed violently. So bad your entire head shook.
He made a disgusted face, but afterward he nodded at your question. “I won’t let you die.”
You reached a hand out, clenching and unclenching it, and whispered, “Come here.”
Lucifer looked a little scared at first, because Lucifer did not seem to like anything to do with colds at all, but he did lean down, probably feeling bad for you. So you took your chance and grabbed his oversized sleeve and tugged. He wasn’t ready for that and stumbled into your bed, and you held on to him like he was a giant stuffie. You hummed at his warmth.
“What are you doing!?” he shouted, struggling immediately. He was clearly not trying to hurt you but also trying to get out of your clutches. He pulled back far enough to be able to look at your sickly expression and furrowed his brows.
You shushed him, “My head hurts, I’m cold, just snuggle me for a bit… please?” Being sick was awful, and all you wanted was a hug. Couldn’t he allow you that much?
Lucifer was the only brother you hadn’t gotten a pact from yet, so you couldn’t exactly force him (not like anyone else would reject your hugs, especially Belphie or Asmo).
Lucifer was stiff and looking out of place in his full outfit while you were in pajamas and a haphazard blanket thrown over you. Still, soon enough he sighed for the umpteenth time as he looked at your face, which you hoped showed the misery you were feeling. “I will allow you ten minutes. That is all I will allow, understand?”
That was plenty enough time, you would no doubt fall asleep by then. He hummed. His hand came to rest on your lower back a moment later. Then he scooted backwards until he was sitting partially up on the bed, and you lay in his lap instead.
You smiled and pulled your blanket over yourself more and pressed your face into his chest, feeling his body heat start to overcome your own coldness. “Thank you.”
“Rest now. Your medicine will be here soon.”
You fell asleep to his soft touches on your head and back, warm and comforted.
_+_
“Noooo…” you cried. You clutched to your chest Po and avoided the spoonful of medicine being pushed at you. “It stiiiinks…”
Solomon sighed. Luke laughed. They both came by to check on you, and Solomon to drop off the potion. It wasn’t going so well for you at all. But, Luke was like an cuddle bug and because he was an Angel this sickness couldn’t get to him so you could snuggle him, too. He currently lay beside you, giggling.
“You have to drink it, or you won’t get any better,” Solomon said. He tried to push the spoon at you again, but you pursed your lips together and moved your head.
“I can just sleep it off, please don’t make me,” you sniffled.
Luke pet your arm. “Solomon, isn’t there any other way?”
“No, Luke, she has to drink this. Twice a day. For the next three days.”
You sobbed. “Why meee…”
The door burst open, and in came Beel. His twin was being dragged right behind him. “I heard you were sick. Are you eating?”
Belphie yawned. “I can put you to sleep, too,” he murmured. He took a seat on the other side of the bed, and over took your pillows and stuffies. You let him, he was warm and smelled like chamomile and it was comforting.
The sorcerer in the room sighed from where he stood at your bedside, hovering with a potion bottle in one hand and spoonful of the same substance in the other. He looked frustrated, but that didn’t mean you felt sympathy. You were not taking that stuff. “She just needs to drink this and go to bed. A little help would be great,” he said dryly.
Beel frowned at the potion. “It smells.”
You nodded sadly.
“But if she has to,” Beel continued.
You gasped. “Beel, no!” You were betrayed.
Belphie chuckled. “Here we go.”
What did that mean?
Suddenly, Beel was on the bed on his knees. You were so shocked you gasped, and in that shock he had taken the spoon from Solomon and shoved it between your open lips. You tried to move away before anything could happen, but his hand held the back of your head and his hand was so big and he was so strong you were defeated.
You swallowed, and then cried. Belphie and Luke both hushed you and pet your head and arms, Beel getting off the bed and doing the same.
“That—was—icky!” you cried. Your mouth tasted like sour candy, and you hated sour candy.
Beel shushed you. “You did such a good job,” he said. He put his hand on your forehead, and it was hot. “You need to rest, your fever is high and you need to sleep. Belphie?”
“On it,” the younger twin said.
You were put on your side, Belphie behind you, and Luke took this as his time to move. He frowned at you but let the twins do their job. Still, he handed you Po, who had fallen off the bed, and you thanked him.
Belphie’s voice was in your ear, and you couldn’t recall what he was saying exactly but the intention was clear: go to sleep. And you did, with a terrible taste in your mouth.
_+_
“She looks so pale, poor lovely,” Asmo pouted.
“We should give her something to eat,” Beel said.
“Can she even eat?” Mammon asked.
“Of course she can, dufus,” Satan responded. “She can have broths and tea, and probably some crackers and juice. And of course she needs to rehydrate so lots of water.”
You felt surrounded and like a Zoo animal. You were laying on the common room sofa, having had 2 days of drinking Solomon’s nasty potion and lots of bedrest. Lucifer gave you permission to leave the bedroom as long as you stayed in this one room.
So of course, everyone came to see you. You came in around noon after waking up late, and had been in here quietly for a few hours before they came home from RAD.
“Ah, she looks so cute with her stuffed doggy, though, doesn’t she?”
You whimpered when Asmo said that, and pressed your face into Fido’s belly. He just cooed again. You didn’t know what it was, but right then you just wanted to be left alone and to breathe. You’d been cramped in your room for so long and now you felt cramped again. You felt a tear slip out of your eye, and tried to push yourself further into the couch.
“Enough. She needs to rest still. You all need to stop hovering around her and speaking as if she is not there.”
Lucifer came in the room and Simeon was behind him with a tray. The Angel had come over to check up on you and make sure you were taking your medicine as Solomon was out on an errand for Diavolo as of yesterday.
The brothers mumbled but moved away, wandering around the room.
“Sit up, please,” Simeon asked gently. You did, with some help from him maneuvering your blankets and pillows. He gently wiped at your cheek from the little tear drops that fell, and gave you a soft smile. “Here you go, darling,” he said, setting down over your lap a tray with warm soup and water. There was also a cup of steaming tea that smelled of honey.
“This is the last one and you have to take it.” Lucifer handed a potion bottle to Simeon along with a spoon, the Angel having taken a knee beside you. “She won’t do it herself, so you must force it on her.”
You glared at Lucifer, and he just raised a brow back but you saw a small smirk on his lips. He was not wrong…
Looking around at the brothers doing little things, Satan pretending to read, Asmo looking at his reflection in his hand held mirror but occasionally looking over at you, Beel and Mammon talking but pausing and glancing over at you and then acting all flustered when they saw you noticing them. It was overwhelming, and you still felt a little embarrassed being sick and fussed over like this.
You grabbed Fido and squeezed him for comfort.
Simeon hummed. “They’re just worried, lamb.”
You nodded. “I know, I’m just…”
“Tired? Wanting to be well again?” he guessed.
You nodded again. “Yeah…”
“Poor dear.” He pet your hair from your cheeks, and felt your forehead. “Still a bit warm, but you shouldn’t have a fever as of tomorrow.” He held out the spoonful of terror with an angelic smile. “One more, okay?”
You sniffled. “Okay…” You let him spoon feed you the potion, and you swallowed it with a grimace. He gave you water and you swished it around to which Simeon just laughed. “Ugh.”
Lucifer took the potion back from him. “Drink your tea and eat the soup. What you can’t stomach tell Mammon take away, this is partly his fault after all.” He titled his head at Mammon, who fussed but agreed. “And drink all the water as well, you’re obviously dehydrated.”
“I will, I promise.”
Lucifer gave his nod of acceptance. “Good girl. Simeon, let’s leave her be. She’ll be watched by my brothers for now.”
Simeon bid you a soft goodbye and a get well soon. Then it was time to eat. You struggled a bit, but ate half the soup and drank all the water. The tea was nice and tasted good, felt good on your throat, too.
Beel helped you settled back down while Mammon took the tray away. You thanked Beel for adjusting your blankets and pillows so they were fluffed up. He said, “I do it for Belphie’s bed all the time. Sometimes he forgets, and his neck hurts the next day.”
Satan glanced over at the tray before Mammon took it to set on a table in the corner of the room. “Not bad,” the blonde demon said. He quickly took a spot at the end of the sofa, and put your feet in his lap. “You should have eaten more, but that will do I suppose.”
You giggled when he tickled your ankle. “I’m full, Satan, I can’t eat anymore.”
Asmo half sat at the head of the couch, and he started to play with your hair. “Don’t force her to have any more or she might throw up.”
You tilted your head to let Asmo begin braiding your locks. “Mmm…” It was luring you into sleep, the soft touches on your scalp. Also the full stomach helped with that.
Asmo smiled down at you. “Go to sleep, dear,” he said. “The best medicine is a full 8 hours of beauty sleep~”
“No it isn’t,” Mammon said, leaning over the couch. “The best medicine is laughter.”
“Well, are you going to tell her a joke then?” Satan asked.
They proceeded to argue back and forth, and you yawned. There wasn’t time to ask them to stop, because sleep was coming fast. “Goo’night.”
They stopped arguing, and gave you soft ‘goodnights’ of their own. Even though it was 4 in the afternoon… And you went to sleep just like that.
When you woke up that night, you had been put back into your bed. Beside you lay your favorite trio of stuffies, Louie, Po, and Fido, and on the nightstand was a glass of water. You reached for the water and drank it all.
The clock said it was an hour past midnight. You were sleepy, but not from the sickness. In fact, you felt much better. But you wanted to cuddle someone…
You crept out of you room, after grabbing the smallest stuffie, Louie, to take, and knocked on Levi’s door. He was the one up at this hour a lot just like Lucifer.
“Password?”
You smiled and gave it. He heard your voice and opened the door, and was shocked to see you. “I—are you still sick, are you okay? Do you need anything? Water, or maybe some more tea? Lucifer told me that tea makes your throat feel better when humans are sick—”
“Levi,” you stopped him before he really rambled. You reached for him and hugged him. “Can I sleep in your tub-bed with you?”
He flinched, but then relaxed and hugged you back. “S-sure, c-come on it. I wasn’t going to bed soon because I have a game releasing in an hour but I can still cuddle you?”
You hummed, that sounded nice. “’kay…”
He climbed into his tub first, and then reached for you to lift you up and lay you in with him. Sometimes you forgot how strong he was. It took some expert maneuvering but you found a spot right between his shoulder and neck and snuggled in, Louie tucked in your arm. It was soft and warm. He put a fleece blanket over you both and that was even better.
Levi’s hand went up and down your back. “Sleep, little one,” he said, unlike him in the moment. He pet your hair and a soft rumble came from his chest.
The blue light from his fish tanks gave you a strange comfort and it lulled you to sleep along with his caresses. You did hate being sick, but all the cuddles were a big benefit.
#obey me fanficiton#shall we date obey me fanfiction#reader#reader fanfiction#obey me lucifer#obey me solomon#obey me simeon#obey me asmodeus#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me beel#obey me belphegor#obey me mammon#obey me luke#sickfic#fanfiction#ao3 link#my fics#stuffies reader fic
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~Kurama~Main Story Chapter 16~
Warning!! This chapter contains attempted murder and strong language
Chapter 15
*
*
*
--------Part 1--------
Yoshitsune: “First of all, I apologize because we assume that you might be in danger.”
Yoshino: “Danger...?”
One morning, Yoshitsune-sama visits my room and his first words made me blink.
Yoshino: “Why am I in danger?”
Kurama was also sitting next to Yoshitsune-sama, and he opens his mouth casually.
Kurama: “I’m told there are people in this mansion who wants to assassinate you.”
(Ehhh....)
I felt the blood draining from my face.
Yoshitsune: “Our army is being reinforced in preparation for the first war against the Shogunate. Not a few of the new recruits had a grudge against the Shogunate for one reason or another.”
Yoshino: “But why would they want to kill me...?”
Yoshitsune: “It’s still unconfirmed but Yoichi is working on it. Until this matter is settled, I want you to stay in this room, just in case.”
Yoshino: “....Okay.”
My voice trembled when I replied.
(I was prepared to put myself in danger on the battlefield one day.)
(But I never thought I’d see the day when my life would be directly threatened in this way.)
(No matter how kind Yoshitsune-sama and the others are....my presence is not interesting to the soldiers of the Rebels)
My fingertips are as cold as if they were immersed in ice water.
Kurama: “Why are you trembling?”
(Kurama...)
Yoshino: “No, no no, I was just surprised. But I’m fine.”
Kurama frowned when he saw me forcing a smile.
Kurama: “......... Take this.”
(Hm?)
I took what was offered to me and it was a whistleblower.
Yoshino: “What’s this for?”
Kurama: “It’s got my spell on it. In this big mansion, I’d be able to hear it from anywhere.”
(Wow! That’s amazing!)
Kurama: “I want you to use it.”
--------Part 2---------
Kurama: “I want you to use it.”
I was stunned when he looked straight at me.
(I’ve been feeling a bit out of sorts since that night in the garden with Kurama....)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
1. I’ll do my best.
2. I’ll take good care of it.
3. That’s reassuring.(+4/+4)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yoshino: “That’s reassuring.”
Kurama: “I’m giving you that this time because it’s special. I don’t like to be treated as a shikigami used by humans.”
Yoshino: “Ohh, umm....thank you.”
Yoshitsune: “It’s only good for a few days. I want it to be a good luck charm in case of emergency.”
I agreed without a second, but....
.................
......That night.
Yoshino: “Eh, you haven’t caught the killer yet?”
Rebel vessel 1: “No. Although we are still in the middle of our interrogation, Yoshitsune-sama has asked me to report to you urgently before we take our leave.”
Yoshino: “Thank you.”
(Even though he is under interrogation, can I be a little relieved....?)
After the retainer has left, he breathes a sigh of relief.
My body slowly relaxed and I realise that I was more nervous than I thought.
(Yoshitsune-sama probably gave me the report so that I could sleep a little more calmly. I must thank him tomorrow.)
(Let’s read and sleep for the rest of the day.)
I reached for the tabletop to read the history book I had borrowed to review the knowledge Kagetoki-san had taught me.
..............
Yoshino: “Oh, no! I was told I had to return this book by today.”
(I’d forgotten all about it in the assassination fiasco.)
(I thought I’d ask someone to give it back to library.)
Perhaps it was the noise of the assassination attempt, but the vassals passing through the corridor were not in the mood to be approached.
However, I felt bad about calling them all the way.
(Because it would be unpleasant for the Rebels to take up my errands as a member of the Shogunate that everyone hates.)
Yoshino: “....The library is not far, so it should be fine, right?”
My heart ached for the thorn that I could not pull out.
(But something is bugging me----)
(Because I know that the Rebels, like everyone else in the Shogunate, are fighting for their friends and their beliefs.)
I was walking in the corridor while thinking about this, when----
(Nn.......!?)
Suddenly, a hand reaches out and covers my mouth, pulling me hard from behind.
Yoshino: ”Nnn...nnn....”
Man 1: “Shut up!”
I was pushed into a spare room and the sliding door slammed shut roughly.
Yoshino: “Nn....what the!”
Man 2: “How dare you, a member from the Shogunate walking around with her head held high in front of our eyes.”
------Part 3------
Man 2: “How dare you, a member from the Shogunate walking around with her head held high in front of our eyes.”
Man 1: “Yeah, I’ll avenge my comrades who were caught.”
Two men stood in front of me with swords.
(They’re going to kill me-----)
My blood froze with fear and my toes began to tremble.
(So there are two people!?)
They smile mockingly at me as I slowly back away.
(What should I do? I’ll buy some time and then....)
I remembered the whistleblower in my pocket and reach out for it------
Man 2: “...Our former comrades were killed in the war against the Shogunate.”
(If I call Kurama, he’ll surely kill them....)
(But, even I’d hate my enemies if they killed my friends....)
The words came out of my mouth in a rush----
Yoshino: “Look, we can talk this over...okay?”
Man 1: “Huh?”
(....I’m sorry. I know I’m being reckless, but....)
The faces of the two men became increasingly grim.
Yoshino: “Please, I beg you. I won’t tell Yoshitsune-sama and the others about you.....”
Man 2: “Are you kidding me? Woman!”
Yoshino: “No I....”
They held down my body as I tried to escape and I struggled.
Man 1: “Shut up! We’ll finish you off quickly and you won’t feel a thing!”
(NO!!)
I saw the white blade shining brightly while he was on top of me.
Regret and fear nearly overwhelmed me when----
Kurama: “Footsteps and squeaks like rats in the night.”
(Kurama!)
The men stopped moving when they heard a low voice.
Man 1: “Kurama-sama!”
Kurama entered the room and narrowed his eyes coldly at me.
Kurama: “.....What are you doing, Yoshino?”
Yoshino: “I...”
Man 1: “Kurama-sama! Please don’t move!”
The man screams while pointing the sword at my throat.
Kurama: “Who gave you permission to move? I forbid you to move against my will, not even a finger.”
Men: “!”
As soon as they felt the space distorting, their faces were filled with astonishment.
Man 2: “W-What is this?”
Man 1: “I can’t move!”
(Maybe he used Kotodama!?)
Kurama: “If you come in my way again, I’ll block your breathing.”
It was a blizzard of frost and they both lost their blood, their mouths still tightly shut when they should be free.
Kurama(glare): “Yoshino. Answer me. Why didn’t you call me?”
-------Part 4------
Kurama(glare): “Yoshino. Answer me. Why didn’t you call me?”
A stinging, deadly energy emanated silently from Kurama’s body and filled the room.
(....If I give a bad answer, he’ll kill everyone in this room including me.)
Yoshino: “I....I was almost killed.”
Kurama: “Why didn’t you blow the whistle when you knew you were?”
I can’t breathe properly because I feel the mass of air around me has increased so much.
Yoshino: “B-Because.”
I struggled to speak under the cold stare.
Yoshino: “I thought it would only be natural that there are people in this house who hates me because I’m an enemy. So, if we could talk it through....”
Kurama: “Oh. So, you want to die.”
(......!!)
Yoshino: “No, I----”
Kurama: “You already declared right in front of me that you’re on the Shogunate’s side. Then, why are you trying to make peace with these guys? I despise with all my heart anyone who would describe that warmth as kindness.”
The low voice, crushed my rebuttal.
Kurama: “Yoshino---is it horrible to be hated for real by someone who is right in front of you?”
(Ah.......)
I couldn’t even speak because it was so true.
(Yes, I didn’t want to be the bad guy.)
(I’m afraid of the malice directed at me by someone else, so I tried to look away from it.....)
(As a result, I almost lost my life.)
(If I die, I won’t be able to help everyone in the Shogunate anymore, but I made the wrong decision.)
Kurama: “Be proud to be an enemy that someone hates, if that’s what you’re willing to do with your life. If not, you may disperse here and now in disgrace.”
(.....Those serious eyes.)
With all the energy in my body, I looked straight back into Kurama’s eyes.
Yoshino: “-----I don’t want to die. Even if someone hates me.”
Kurama: “If you want to live, you must beg, and you must risk the lives of others.”
---------Part 5---------
Yoshino: “-----I don’t want to die. Even if someone hates me.”
Kurama: “If you want to live, you must beg, and you must risk the lives of others.”
Kurama snapped his fingers high in the air.
Men: “....!”
As if on cue, the bodies of the men escaped from the Kotodama.
Man 1: “Fuck you!”
Yoshino: “!!”
(No, I want to live!)
I pushed the man’s chest and scream as I struggle.
Yoshino: “Help! Kurama----”
Kurama: “That’s right. Beg me from the bottom if your heart.”
Strong wind blew around the room.
Man 2: “What the hell!?”
One of the men winces as he is cut down by an invisible blade of wind.
Man 1: “Ku...”
The other one, who was cutting at me, immediately seized his hand and removed his sword.
Kurama: “Surrendering already? You got no guts at all.”
(Finally....!!)
Man 1: “I-I heard you were a foreigner. Why would you use such great power to protect a woman of the Shogunate?”
Man 2: “Yeah! We’re just trying to avenge our friends.....”
As I sit there stunned, the men screamed at me.
Kurama: “It is the prerogative of the strong to choose where they wield their power. But before you accuse me of being unworthy.....”
The blood colored eyes took the men in their stride for the first time and penetrated deep into them.
Kurama: “You took Yoshino by surprise in a place where its not a battlefield. It seems to be for a great cause, but it’s only a matter of venting your resentment on an entity that you’re sure has the upper hand. What a pathetic petty way to live.”
Men: “Nn...........”
(Kurama.........)
I can’t help but be drawn to the way he says it with such strength and grace.”
(To everyone, Kurama is fair and merciless.)
(But, I’m sure that’s because.... Kurama himself is not ashamed of his life to anyone.)
The tension that I had felt earlier had dissipated, and I could feel the hot blood flowing through my body.
Kurama: “Yoshitsune will be the one to deal with you. It’s stupid, I’m not even interested in your life or death. Don’t ever stand in my line of sight again. Also.......”
(!!)
As if remembering, Kurama grabbed my hand and pulled me up.
Kurama: “This woman belongs to me. If you have a problem with that, you can tell me who owns her.
Chapter 17
#ikemen series#ikemen genjiden#ikemen mc#ikemen genjiden kurama#main story translations#otome#cybird#cybird otome#cybird ikemen
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swim captain (chapter three)
pairing: bang chan x reader
genre: angst
warnings: mentions of possible sexual assault, mentions of slight violence
word count: 3.2k
a/n: look at me posting kinda consistently and shit
chan watched as you left the building with jaemin and his friends, head flooding with thoughts of you and his realization.
since when did he like you like that? he’s known you for years, why now was he falling for you? why not last year when he didn’t know who to ask to the dance or earlier this year when he needed a plus one to an important swim meet? you ended up going as minho’s date to both of those things, and chan had ended up taking some random girl.
but it didn’t matter, he couldn’t have asked you to those things as anything more than a friend anyway. whether he fell for you now or a year ago or any time, he needed to cut it out.
it felt inappropriate to have feelings for you. you were the manager of a team that he was captain of and there was a feeling of responsibility that came along with both of those positions. and even if that didn’t matter, how was he supposed to know if you thought of him any different than you thought of the rest of the boys? if anything, you seemed less interested in him than any of the other boys. he probably got one hug for every five the others got, ten if it was hyunjin or minho.
he was sure you saw him as a brother. a good friend, and that was all. you obviously didn’t see him as anything else, or you wouldn’t have left with jaemin. but that was fine, because it would be inappropriate if you did. it was inappropriate that he did.
he tried to think back and figure out when his feelings changed. he couldn’t pinpoint anything specific that would have changed the way he feels towards you, but it made sense of things. like why he had been extra focused on you the past weeks and why minho’s actions were bugging him now, even though they were the same as always. he was forced out of his train of thought when someone called his name.
“chan, you coming?” changbin called from a few feet away, the boys already heading for the door, which chan failed to realize as he was caught up in his own thoughts.
“yeah,” he began, “uh, yeah, sorry.”
he figured it best to go with the boys. they would offer some sort of distraction from the fact that you were with jaemin at that moment, and a bunch of his friends. plus, he had made a point of expressing that he was going out in his attempt to get you to stay with your team and not leave with NCT, so it would look weird if he didn’t go now.
the boys piled into felix’s car. his family had came to the meet and drove his car along with another one, leaving his since they knew the boys would want to hang out after the meet. all of the boys fit in the large crossover, but it was definitely not legal to have that many people packed into one vehicle.
finally deciding on a small ice cream shop, felix pulled into the small parking lot and shut off the car. the boys immediately stormed out of the car and into the diner.
after ordering their ice cream and sitting down, the 8 of them began to chat about the days events. chan didn’t bother to tune in much. that is, until he heard a certain subject being discussed.
“he seemed pretty nice,” seungmin joked, “you know, for someone from NCT.”
“no joke. and he’s pretty, too.” added changbin.
“hey,” felix began, “you trying to steal y/n’s man?”
chan interrupted the bantering, “what about that guy came off as nice to you guys? he was creepy! like, who walks up to a stranger and asks them to leave late at night with them and their friends? that’s weird!” he paused, “and he didn’t even acknowledge that we were there! isn’t he supposed to get, like, permission or something?”
“permission? yeah, from her dad, not her 8 annoying best friends, dumbass.” hyunjin responded.
“seriously, how are you guys so chill about this? we don’t know the kid or anyone on his team.”
“y/n’s a big girl, chan, she can handle herself.”
“against a group of that many guys?” chan scoffed, “yeah right.”
“chan, why are you automatically assuming they’re going to hurt her?”
“why are you assuming they’re not?”
“i don’t know, maybe because there’s no history of NCT being a bad school? maybe because none of those boys have a record?”
“they’re top athletes, hyunjin, you really fucking think the school would let that type of shit on a public record if anything happened? and risk their reputation?”
hyunjin let out an unamused laugh, “we’re top athletes too, chan.” he gestured to everyone around the table, “we have clean records.”
“yeah, clean as long as minho’s assault charge stays expunged.”
he mumbled, pushing his chair back and standing up, headed for the door.
minho stood up with him, moving to grab his arm and stop him from leaving, “are you forgetting i caught that charge defending y/n?”
chan shrugged his shoulders, pulling his arm from minho’s grip and continuing his path to the door, “it’s just an example, minho.”
“how are you gonna get home?” felix called before he could leave.
without turning around, chan responded, “i’ll figure it out.”
and the door shut behind him.
the 7 boys looked at each other, felix practically pulling minho back to his seat to stop him from following chan out the door. that was expected, minho was a hothead, but chan was usually calm and practical, even when upset. and he knew better than to make a scene in public.
“jesus,” jisung laughed, “he flops one race and he turns into a 2 year old having a tantrum.”
“yeah,” minho let out a scoff that the rest of the boys played off as a laugh, “because it’s race he’s pissy about.”
meanwhile, you were sat inside of a fast food restaurant surrounded by a group of curious boys.
“stray kids, huh? aren’t you going to get, like, guillotined for conversing with your enemies?” a boy, who jaemin had identified as lucas, joked.
you laughed, “nah, we keep the competition in the water.”
“tell that to that one guy, he seemed like he didn’t get that memo.” spoke another one of jaemin’s teammates, one you couldn’t remember the name of.
you cocked your head to the side in confusion, and he continued.
“blonde, curly hair. bang, maybe?”
“oh, chan!” he’s just upset about his race, i think.”
“whatever his name is, he’s scary.” spoke the boy you think introduced himself as jeno.
“yeah,” jaemin chuckled, “honestly, i thought i was gonna get my shit rocked. like maybe i’d asked his girlfriend out or something.”
you blushed, letting out a surprised laugh “girlfriend?”
did it really seem like you and chan might be a couple? did chan really seem jealous that jaemin asked you to hang out? you felt butterflies in your stomach at the idea. despite being out on a ‘date’ with jaemin and surrounded by his attractive friends, you still found yourself feeling weaker at the thought of chan than any of the boys around you at that moment.
“yeah, he did not look like he liked the idea of me asking you out, to be honest.”
you didn’t think it was possible, but your face reddened even more. before you could respond that chan was just always super protective of his team, your phone went off, signaling that you’d gotten a text message.
you held your phone up, “speak of the devil.”
channie: hey, let me know when you get home safe, yeah??
you smiled at the message, typing a quick reply.
y/n: gotcha
chan’s message reminded you that it was indeed a school night, and that you should probably head home. you slid your phone back in your pocket and turned to jaemin.
“hey, i should get going, there’s school tomorrow. see you around?”
jaemin shot you a big smile, pulling his phone from his pocket and holding it out for you.
“i would love to see you around. i’ll text you?” he questioned, to which you responded with a smile, taking the device from his hand.
you typed your number into jaemin’s phone, sending yourself a message from it so you would have his number, too.
“need a ride home?”
“no, thank you,” you replied, “i’ll call a cab or something, you stay and have fun. thanks, though!”
you called for a taxi and send a quick message to chan.
y/n: just called a taxi. on my way home.
channie: he isn’t giving you a ride?
y/n: i didn’t want one
chan, sitting in the backseat of his own cab, felt his stomach drop.
channie: did something happen? are you okay?
y/n: i’m fine, just didn’t wanna make them leave just because i wanted to head home.
chan relaxed into his seat.
y/n: how about you guys? headed home soon?
channie: i am. i’m not sure about the others.
y/n: ?
channie: i left early
y/n: still upset about the race?
chan sighed just as the taxi pulled into his driveway. he stepped out, handing a wad of cash to the driver and telling him to keep the change.
he stepped into his house and headed straight to his bedroom, falling onto his mattress. he stared at your message for a few seconds before replying.
channie: something like that.
y/n: it was probably just an off day, don’t beat yourself up about it!
chan looked at your message and tossed his phone on the bed beside him, pulling an arm over his face and groaning in frustration. he was worn out from the day, not even having the energy to shower the chlorine off of himself, he decided he was just going to go to sleep as soon as possible. just as he was nearly dozed off, his phone let out a ding.
y/n: home safe and sound! night, chan
he didn’t bother typing a reply, letting himself fall into a restless sleep.
chan woke the next morning sporting the same outfit as the day before. he grabbed for his phone to check the time, having a mini heart attack when realizing he only had 40 minutes to shower, get ready, eat, and drive to school.
he jumped up, grabbing a random assortment of clothes and headed to the bathroom. he hissed when he got into the shower and felt his skin burn, it was cracking from not having the chlorine washed off of it from the night before.
he and the rest of the boys always had cracked knuckles and chapped lips from being in chlorine so much, but it got significantly worse when the chlorine didn’t get washed off as soon as possible.
he hurried to ready himself before jumping into his car without eating anything. if he wanted to get to school on time, he’d have to skip breakfast.
chan arrived in the school with five minutes to spare, which wasn’t a completely unusual amount of time, just a bit less than he would usually like. heading to his locker, he caught sight of you standing in front of your own, staring down at your phone. he offered a small “hey” as he walked past you and opened his locker.
upon noticing him, you shut your phone off and shoved it into your back pocket.
he looked from you to his locker, speaking as he focused on putting what he needed for the day in his bag.
“have fun last night?”
“yeah! the NCT boys are super nice. you guys would love them!”
“yeah,” chan mumbled, “i’m sure i would.”
with that, you walked past him and towards your first hour class, playfully shoving him as you passed him. it earned you a small smile, and that was enough to make you think his mood from the night before had improved, but he still felt the same cloud of confusion and frustration as he watched you walk down the hallway. he hated himself for thinking it, but just for a small second, he wondered if maybe it would be easier if something had happened and you didn’t like jaemin and his friends.
you and chan didn’t share any morning classes, so he wasn’t able to see you again until lunch, and that was probably good. he decided it would be best to attempt to shove his emotions as far down as possible and act as normal around you as he could, hoping maybe the feelings would go away as quickly as they had came.
because of this, he made no attempt to sit by you at lunch, but tried to converse with you normally, just as the other boys did. just like he did before he realized his feelings towards you. the boys were making it very difficult for him to keep his calm, though, when they wouldn’t leave the topic of you and jaemin alone.
“so, y/n,” jisung teased, “you gonna leave us for NCT and your hot new boy toy?”
you threw a fry from your plate at him with a laugh, “he is not my ‘boy toy’ jisung, he’s my friend. plus, i’d never leave you guys.”
“even if NCT beats us in competition again?” minho pouted.
you smiled at the boy sat across from you on the table, leaning down to rest your elbows on the table as you spoke, “even if they beat us in comp this year.”
minho smiled at you from across the table, eyes glancing over to chan seated beside him for a moment before focusing back on you.
it was obvious to minho that chan had feelings for you, and vice versa. how no one else had caught on he had no clue.
minho thought of himself as a good friend. good friends help their friends out, and even though maybe the idea of pissing chan off after the shot he’d thrown at minho the night before could have been enough for minho to pull a stunt, it did help that good could come out of it. after all, maybe a little jealousy was the shove chan needed to finally ask you out.
minho decided that since chan wasn’t even looking at you, choosing to stare down at his food instead, he would make him look at you.
he reached cross the table and ruffled your hair, “that’s my girl.”
he snuck another glance at chan. it was apparent that although he hadn’t been looking at you, he was listening to what was happening. his head had slightly raised and his eyes were locked onto minho.
deciding to push his friends buttons a bit more, minho locked eyes with chan and cocked his head, pulling a painfully obvious fake look of concern, “you look grumpy, bud, what’s up?”
chan forced an equally fake smile back, sitting up straight and dropping his fork onto his lunch tray with a loud clang.
“just tired.”
minho hummed in response, barely acknowledging chan’s response before turning back to you.
“y/n, i gotta go to the library before lunch ends. come with?”
you nodded, not having caught on to the tension between minho and chan. it wasn’t hard to miss, especially when no one else at the table was paying it any attention either.
“actually, minho.” chan stood from his seat and placed a hand on minho’s shoulder, “coach wanted to see you. you know, about your race yesterday.”
minho raised an eyebrow, “can’t he talk to me at practice?”
“nope,” chan offered no further explanation before grabbing his tray and heading to dump it in the trash. he motioned minho to follow him, “let’s go.”
minho jogged to catch up with chan as he lead them both to an empty hallway.
“isn’t coaches office that way?” minho gestured in the opposite direction.
chan scoffed, “you know damn well that was an excuse. come on dude, stop fucking with me.”
minho raised his eyebrows, feigning innocence, “what do you mean?”
“oh my god minho, you know what i mean.”
minho shrugged, “clearly not. why else would i be asking?”
“because you’re a fucking prick.” chan muttered.
he sighed, running a hand down his face and taking a deep breath, “i know you know i like her, okay? i mean,” he put his hands up and mimicked quotation marks, “‘i would never do that to you.’” he let his hands fall to his side, “you knew before i did. so stop being an asshole. i can’t make the stupid crush go away if i’m pissed off 24-fucking-7 because you’re hitting on her.”
chan ran his hands through his hair. he’d never even admitted it to himself out loud before. this was the first time he’d heard himself say it out loud. he didn’t know if saying it out loud or telling someone would help, but minho obviously already knew. there was no harm in admitting something to someone who knew before you did.
“chan, this is how me and the rest of the boys have always been around her. like yeah, i’ve amped it up a bit recently so you’d finally get it through your thick fucking skull that you’re in love with her and i’ll calm it down again when you’ve stopped being a pussy, but it’s not something that’s going completely away. not from me, not from any of the boys, and honestly dude, probably not from jaemin. you can’t expect her to stop having fun with her friends simply because you’re crushing on her. not even when you’re dating her.” he paused before continuing, “if you end up dating her. jaemin seems to have more balls than you.”
chan groaned, “i know, minho.”
“then make a move.”
“i’m not making a move.”
minho frowned, “what? why not?”
“i’m just not, minho.” his words came out harsher than he’d intended, “but can you please just stop? just until i can shake these stupid fucking feelings, then you can go back to trying to get into her pants.”
minho shoved him, “if i wanted into y/n’s pants, i’d be in them.” he nudged chan again, “but seriously dude, why shake reciprocated feelings?”
chan finally brought his eyes to meet minho’s again, “what?”
minho feigned confusion, “what?”
“repeat that.”
“repeat what?”
“the thing you said about feelings.”
“oh,” minho began, “i said why shake the feelings?”
“that’s not what you said.”
minho frowned, “i’m pretty sure that’s what i said.”
“no,” chan pressed, “you added another word. what did you say?”
minho shook his head, pretending to think about it. “no, i think that’s like word for word what i said.”
chan shoved him, “minho, seriously, what did you say?”
instead of a proper response, minho looked towards the ceiling of the school. he’d given chan enough advice for the day.
“i think that was the bell. i gotta go. see you at practice!”
“minho!” chan yelled as minho jogged down the hallway. the bell had most definitely not sounded, “asshole.”
#skz#stray kids#bang chan#skz imagines#skz blurbs#skz scenarios#stray kids imagines#stray kids scenarios#stray kids blurbs#bang chan imagines#bang chan blurbs#bang chan scenarios#skz angst#stray kids angst#bang chan angst#skz smut#lee know#lee minho#stray kids smut#lee know angst
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❤ ──── ·․ under watchful eyes (pt. 3)
━━━ SYNOPSIS: the reader and arvin are forced to go to a pre-marriage counselling session with reverend teagardin.
━━━ WARNINGS: teenage marriage, allusion to sexual harassments.
━━━ NOTES: This one was little short, sorry! I’m gonna try and make part four longer. I don’t condone any of Arvin's action he clearly has severe anger issues at least and mentally ill as a result of his traumatic childhood at worst. Hope you enjoy!
━━━ WORD COUNT: 1,253
━━━ PART(S): part four
✦·․ ──── ❤ ──── ·․·✦·․·✦·․ ──── ❤ ──── ·․·✦·․·✦·․ ❤ ․·✦·․·✦·․· ──── ❤ ──── ·․·✦·․·✦·․ ──── ❤ ──── ․·✦
The room was filled with tension. You sat in your nicest clothes, shifting around in your seat. Arvin places his hand on your knee, and you can feel it's warmth through your tights; you stop turning and look over at him. Arvin had his shoulders pulled back and back straight. He looks uptight and uncomfortable. He never sat like that. His jaw was clenched, too, as his gaze went back to the man you were both waiting to speak.
Reverend Teagardin. He grabbed his cup of coffee and brought it to his lips before clearing his throat. "So," he began, "You two would like to get married? That would help things, I'm sure."
Arvin scoffs but bites his tongue. He doesn't want to be here, but your parents required it until they'd let him marry you. Arvin nods. "Yes, sir."
Reverend Teagardin looks over to you. "I suppose that would be nice. Of course, your families asked me to talk to you two before. Marriage is a big deal, you know, that's a lot of commitment for people so young."
"People are age get married all the time," you say, "and Arvin and I have been together for a while. We love each other too."
Teagardin nods. "Well, that is important. It's just sometimes you'll want to explore other people," his gaze was on you as he said it. You look away from him, and Arvin gives a glance to you. He didn't like how he said that.
"I don't want anyone else," Arvin says quickly. "Never will."
A small smile finds itself on your face but quickly fades away as the Reverend stares you both down. "Well, are there any concerns you two have about marriage?"
You and Arvin look at each other for a moment before he speaks up. "I mean, there's obviously money, but my Grandma is gonna let us live with 'er. We have a little hutch on our property, and I'm gonna fix it up to have our own space. And I have a job lined up in the summer, so we'll have our own money."
Reverend Teagardin nods, "That sounds like a good plan, Mr. Russell," the compliment sounds forced. "Y/N, do you have any plans after marriage? Do you two want children? I know many young couples like you often get married under specific circumstances, so maybe we'll see one soo-"
"Shut your mouth, you bastard!" Arvin lurched up at Reverend Teagardin. "Y/N ain't knocked up! We just love each other, that's all."
Reverend Teagardin stood up, "I'd watch yourself. If you hadn't pulled this little stunt, the two of you wouldn't even be seeing each other."
Arvin shook his head and went to round the table, but you grabbed his arm. "Both of you stop it!" you stand up and look at Reverend Teagardin. "Now, all three of us know we don't actually need your permission to get married. If we wanted to, we could go up to the courthouse and have it over within five minutes, so what's gonna happen is we're going to walk out, and you'll tell our parents you think this is a great idea. If you don't, I'll tell 'em about you watching Arvin and me that night. Understood?"
Reverend Teagardin gave you a stern look before shifting his gaze to Arvin. With a huff, he nods. You and Arvin leave, not stopping to talk to your parents. While you wait outside, Arvin grabs you and brings his lips to yours. "I don't think I've ever seen that side of you, sweetheart," he kisses you again. "I gotta say I like it."
You giggle. "Well, you better stay in line, mister, or you'll see her again!"
Arvin laughs with you and brings you back close to him. Holding you gently, he wasn't usually this affectionate. After he proposed, though, you could see a change. He seemed happier.
"Y/n! Come on, we have to get home!" you heard your mother yell from the other side of the parking lot.
You pull away from Arvin. "I love you," you tell him. "I'll see you at dinner." Arvin nods at you and quickly kisses your hand before letting you leave. His grandmother and Lenora came up to him, and they all went to the car. Arvin couldn't help but notice how Lenora kept looking at herself in the mirror. She had been acting different lately. Arvin saw her dressing nicer, putting more time into her hair, and she even borrowed a light lipstick from you.
It wasn't like Lenora to act like that. She didn't like makeup beforehand, and she had been spending less time at home with Arvin and Grandma. Maybe she had gotten a boyfriend, but Arvin swore she would've mentioned it to him.
As they rounded the corner, Arvin couldn't help but smile as he went inside. The two of you were getting married, and soon enough, you'd be living together. It was everything he wanted. In all honesty, it was the only thing he actually knew he wanted. You were the one thing he's so sure about. It was Saturday, so he didn't have to worry about school or anything like that, just get his chores down and head to work around twelve. His Grandma made him clean up a little, she wasn't the type to just make Lenora do it, but as he swept the floor, he heard something wrong.
Vomiting. Arvin pushed open the bathroom door to see Lenora on her knees in front of the toilet, her head laying on it as she moaned in pain. "Arvin," she said softly, her throat hurt too much to speak loudly, "Go get Grandma."
Arvin quickly found his grandmother bringing her back. Lenora assured her she just had an upset stomach, maybe even a stomach bug, and so she went off to bed. His grandmother made Lenora tea, and by the time he left and came home from work, Lenora was back in her room working at her homework.
"You feeling better?" Arvin asks.
"A little," she said. Lenora looks over at Arvin and gives him a small smile. "So, you happy to be engaged?"
Arvin smiled like an idiot and shuffled on his feet, embarrassed. "You know I am," he mumbled.
Lenora laughs. "Isn't it excited? I bet Y/N is excited to pick out her wedding dress. I can't wait to see it."
"Don't have to wait long. She's gonna take you when she tries them on, you know?"
Arvin hadn't seen Lenora smile so bright. "Really?" she asks excitedly.
"'Course! She'll probably make you 'er maid of honor too."
Lenora was ecstatic.
Though it didn't last too long because by the time you came by, she was throwing up her stomach again, but Arvin felt at peace for the moment. His sister seemed happier than ever, Grandmother was excited about the wedding too, and he was gonna spend the rest of his life with the woman of his dreams. Nothing could bring him down.
Then two months later came. Arvin held his wife's hand, both dressed in black as rain poured just as fast as his grandmother's tears. It wet the ground that his sister lay underneath. Unspoken and nonmoving. With one thing on his mind. It wasn't the same thing that plagued his mind two months ago. It wasn't a wedding, you, his sister, or his future. It was a prayer. A simple one at that. One that you shared.
A prayer for the right time.
✦·․ ──── ❤ ──── ·․·✦·․·✦·․ ──── ❤ ──── ·․·✦·․·✦·․ ❤ ․·✦·․·✦·․· ──── ❤ ──── ·․·✦·․·✦·․ ──── ❤ ──── ․·✦
I hope you enjoyed part three! It was a little short. I haven’t been feeling very motivated lately, just kind of in a funk. But it’s a new week and I’m gonna try and do more! Starting with writing part four and hopefully getting it out by the end of the week. I have a plan for when this series will end and I think it will be around five to six parts.
Don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment!
━━━ MASTERLIST
#arvin russel#arvin russell#arvin russell imagine#arvin russel imagine#arvin russell x reader#1960s#the devil all the time#tdatt
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TGF Thoughts: 5x08-- And the détente had an end...
I did not like this episode! I had many problems with it! More under the cut...
A purple line is painted on a curb and then we’re watching footage of Wackner’s show. Question: do they only wear the costumes when it’s a low profile case? It was very noticeable they didn’t have them on in the cancel culture episode, and they don’t have them on in the Julius scenes in this episode...
Also, can I pretend that the horse and cat wearing tiara are meant to be BoJack and Princess Carolyn?
Del is remote-watching a focus group about Wackner’s show when Liz walks in. He refers to Wackner as “your guy” and Liz replies, “Must not be going well if you’re calling him my guy.” Sounds like “why is she my stripper when she does something bad?”
The focus group is in Vegas “where the real Americans live.” The clips from Wackner’s show being tested seem to be only the most ridiculous ones. Unsurprisingly, the focus group hates the show.
And here is my first question: Why are they testing a version of Wackner’s show that seems to be exclusively silliness? I know, you know, the writers know, and Del knows that that’s not funny.
Wackner Rules is not a good title.
I love Liz being amused by the focus group going poorly.
Why don’t people like Wackner Rules? Well, the cases are stupid—fights over barking dogs, shoes that don’t fit. They’d rather see burglary or robbery. This is silly, because while I’m sure most of Wackner’s cases are silly, we've seen a fair number of cases with a little more substance (or at least zaniness that makes them less mundane), including the one with the high profile comedian that was filmed explicitly to be part of this reality show. So is Wackner Rules, despite its cases financed by David Cord, just the most boring shit possible? And if so, why? Again, everyone involved here knows better than that.
Also is this just Del’s pet project? Is that why he is producing it, testing it, and approving it?
Liz rolls her eyes at the “wisdom of the crowd” on display. Then she shuts the laptop without realizing what she’s doing and jokes around about it.
If I were Del and my partner had just disparaged my work and then shut down my laptop while I was working, I would be furious. However, this is a bad episode of a television show and I love Liz so I am amused.
Del goes to fill Wackner in on how the focus group went. Wackner does not care about the opinions of twelve people. (This is funny, given that he has decided he is the most important person when it comes to making decisions and also that juries have twelve people too.)
No, dear god, no, please do not make me sit through tiny office jokes again. Have we transported back in time to season seven of TGW? I hated the door slamming against Eli’s desk then and I hate the sudden addition of this “joke” to Wackner’s chambers now.
The calendar says February 2021. Is it supposed to be February?
Apparently, the focus group likes the court, the costumes, and, mostly, Marissa. Just not the cases.
Marissa’s all, “well what do they want, a murder case?” and Del gives her a look like, “Can you???”
Again, the cases weren’t so silly they were boring in any other episodes and we know that Del/Wackner/Cord were meeting to discuss the best test cases for TV. So, like, how did people waste their time and energy making this obviously awful episode of TV for the focus group? No one involved is that clueless and it makes me dislike this plot.
AND RIGHT AFTER LAST EPISODE WHERE THE CASE ESCALATED TO THE POINT OF PRISON? I think that’s maybe my biggest complaint about this plot, and this episode as a whole. The last episode gave the this season a lot of momentum. Prison! Stakes are raised! Will Marissa say anything!? How much power is too much power for Wackner?! And then we get this episode, and it’s like, jk, forget about all that, now Wackner’s cases are drying up and everyone involved has zero critical thinking skills and we’re going to forget the prison thing ever happened!
“His court needs this show. Look at Trump. He wasn’t shit until The Apprentice,” Del tells Marissa after Wackner exits. Marissa does not react to the Trump reference, which may be the low point of this episode. Does Marissa Gold want to build the next Trump!? Is Marissa Gold not concerned that someone has just suggested that the goal of her show is to make someone in to Trump!? Hello?! This is not a reference you drop casually! I would be concerned about partnering with Del if I heard this! Marissa would be too! So why isn’t she?!
Also, this line + the “real Americans” as the target audience for Wackner’s show + the USA! Chanting at the end make me think the point here is somehow supposed to be about Trump and, like, cults of personality? I don’t really see it but I’ll reserve judgement until I see where Wackner’s arc ends up.
Julius heads to Wackner’s court to meet with Cord. He pitches them on his new firm. How is Julius going to start a new firm already? Wasn’t RL the only place that would take him? And pitching Cord on a firm with the 20% of staff that was laid off is a stupid idea, too. As Cord says, hiring the people laid off means hiring the “B-Team.” I dunno if that is actually true, but I know that Cord and anyone else who knows those were the people who were laid off will see it that way. Why is this in Julius’s business pitch? Like, is Cord wondering where Julius would get employees from? Is that a question?
Reddick & Lockhart, Julius says, is no longer eligible for no-bid government contracts. I want to know why: is this because RL is actually STR Laurie, or is this because Diane is white? If the latter, then you’d think we’d hear a little more about it...
Why is Cord calling the Copy Coop somewhere near the courthouse in a business district in Chicago “the middle of nowhere”?
Anyway, Cord passes on the new firm because it is not innovative and it does not disrupt anything.
Then Julius pitches the firm but with known-innovator Diane Lockhart and her client list. Cord is kind of interested. Cord cares that much about Diane? Alright.
Julius, after involving Diane, calls her to tell her what he’s done. When he gets back to his car, he is being given a ticket for parking in a purple zone. A purple zone is, apparently, court staff parking for Wackner’s court.
Julius rips up the ticket, then gets another ticket for destroying the ticket, and another ticket for destroying that ticket.
Wackner asks Marissa to find out how he can get out of the reality show. Marissa refuses and says she’s going to find out how they’re portraying Wackner, since the show benefits him. This is because he has “fewer cases this week than the week before, and fewer than the week before that. This court goes away unless more people know you’re here.” What? Where did that come from? I’m so confused. Last week Wackner had infinite money and a prison and was dealing with cases with settlements in the millions and famous comedians. Now his audience is dwindling and I’m supposed to care about this plotline? Thanks, but I cared about the plot you already sold me on, writers!
Hey, wasn’t there a thread at some point in this season about David Lee bugging Liz’s office? Odds we ever hear about that again?
Diane does not like Julius’s new firm idea. “David Lee is insisting that I stay,” Diane says, as though David Lee actually has that kind of power over her.
Julius points out that all the other partners are threatening to resign unless Diane is replaced, and “at a certain point, it won’t matter what David Lee says.” Diane says she’ll think about it.
Julius tries to talk to Cord again and finds that his car has been towed. This scene is too long, and watching Julius get confused by shifting, fake rules feels a little too much like the first Memo 618 episode. This episode only has a 40-minute run-time and we spend a lot of it on building up this plot. I don't really get why. Sure, it’s fun to watch people act incredulous, but we already know Wackner’s court is trying to put some muscle behind its authority (violence to encourage compliance, literal prison) so I don’t know why we need to spend so much time on what feels like a lower key bizarro version of a theme we are already aware of.
Just, like, do a boring ass case of the week episode if you don’t have ideas. Don’t regress the plotting and kill the momentum.
SPEAKING of killing momentum, remember how Carmen got a stellar introduction, a few episodes of development, and then pretty much disappeared for several consecutive episodes?
Then there’s another one of these scenes where Julius tries to get his car and more and more people enforce Wackner’s fake ticket.
I do not like “Wackner’s City of Chicago” being on the seal. I think he'd have something more clever than that on the seal.
David Lee calls Cord in to pitch him on bringing over all of his business. This scene confuses me, because you’d think Cord would be a big get for giant corporation STR Laurie. But no, David Lee wants Cord to bring his West Coast, East Coast, and Europe business to boutique firm Reddick Lockhart. Or, at least, that’s what Cord’s hesitance suggests to me.
Cord tells David Lee that Diane is leaving and that he won’t go to a firm that is breaking apart. David Lee denies it.
THIS sounds like the Hitting the Fan score.
David Lee insists that Liz and Diane drop what they’re doing and come up to his office. They do.
David asks Diane if she’s leaving. She says she was asked to join another firm, and that she was told that the equity partners are planning to resign unless she resigns, so she’s considering it.
“No one is threatening to resign without my permission,” David responds. Those must be some contracts if he is this powerful...
David warns Diane about poaching clients and she’s all, they’re free to leave if they want (ah, so they’re free to leave when you’re leaving but they’re your clients and can be stolen when YOU’RE losing them, I see). Liz is irritated by all of this and pre-accuses Diane of stealing clients after what she’s already done to keep her position. Fair.
David asks Diane what her issues are. “I’m a name partner being squeezed out of the decision making process,” she says. “And why is that, Diane?” Liz asks. “Because of my race!” Diane insists. “Because no one respects your decision to stay in your position. It is not yours by right,” Liz says.
“I’ve fought as hard as anyone here to keep this firm solvent. And I didn’t inherit this firm. I was invited in, and I earned...” OOOH FINALLY WE ARE GOING TO ADDRESS THAT LIZ HAD NO EXPERIENCE RUNNING A FIRM BEFORE THIS ONE FELL INTO HER LAP. Shame it’s a throwaway line.
STRL’s presence both adds and removes tension here. I wish they pushed this a little further. Sometimes David Lee seems to be functioning as an outside mediator; sometimes he has more power. What’s the point of all of these dilemmas and battles if at the end of the day, STRL owns and controls everything? How much can RL really mean to them? There’s even an RL in their name that doesn't stand for Reddick/Lockhart. I just don’t understand what it means to be a name partner in a black firm when that firm is actually controlled by some giant company. The way I see it, Diane should want out of RL because she’s past retirement age and being controlled by David Lee and that can’t be fun, and Madeline et al should want out because the mandate to focus on profit over social justice is not mostly coming from Diane or even Adrian’s legacy... it’s coming from the giant power and profit hungry corporation that owns you!
David has Diane and Liz stand on opposite sides of his desk. “Are you gonna spank us?” Liz says. I love funny Liz. Funny Liz is my favorite. But you know what I wish we also got more of? Liz’s thought process in general.
David’s point with this is that David is going to “come live and work with” Diane and Liz if they don’t figure it out themselves. I know they can’t easily get out from under STRL but Adrian did it so there’s surely a way to resign... this feels so demoralizing... I can’t believe Diane just takes this.
As they walk downstairs, Liz says, “If you’re going to leave, there’s nothing to talk about. “Liz, I don’t want to leave this firm. And you don’t want me to leave. So why don’t we hire a partner to replace Boseman?”
(1) I like that they’re acknowledging that Liz and Diane clearly want to work together and like working together and are having this fight mostly because they have to have this fight, not because they actually want to. Pretty much nothing Liz has done suggests she actually wants Diane to step down and pretty much nothing Diane has done suggests she actually wants to switch firms. So good, that’s text instead of subtext now.
(2) Weren’t they going to hire a partner to replace Boseman in the first place? Why didn’t that just... happen then and avoid all this?
Liz says she’ll think about it, but we all know that this is what she and Diane both want. This is where they should’ve been weeks ago.
OMG okay I knew they had talked about it before! In 5x02 Diane suggests this strategy from the start! Why does it go away!? It’s clearly the right strategy and doing it that early could’ve prevented a lot of conflict and tension. At this point, it feels almost too little, too late. What’s it going to do other than smooth things over with Diane and Liz?
They really are keeping the cameras rolling for Julius’s dumb parking ticket thing? Guarantee this does not make Wackner look good. As trivial as parking spaces seem, this feels like the sort of issue that would really piss off a lot of people. Maybe that would make good TV, but you want people to like and trust Wackner to keep people coming back to a reality show...
Julius, being Julius, refuses to apologize to Wackner and make the whole issue go away. I think why this rubs me—and so many others; I have seen nothing but negativity about this episode among friends and on the internet—the wrong way is that this feels like power for the sake of power. It is trivial, self-important (“Wackner’s City of Chicago”), disconnected from anything resembling reality. That’s not to say anything else about Wackner has been realistic, but the writers have been walking a very fine line between surreal, allegorical storytelling and straining credulity. This feels so mundane and unneeded that I actually have an easier time accepting that Wackner has created his own prison system than I do accepting that he’s tried to reserve parking spaces for his staff. At least with a prison, I see the larger-than-life point the writers are trying to make.
The parking attendant tells Wackner she wants to add more reserved spaces up the street and Wackner is like, oh, good! I don’t understand! Who is this lady that just wants to enforce Wackner’s rules? Does she want more spaces because it’s kind of a powertrip to give people tickets? Why do they need more reserved staff parking when cases are dwindling? Who is Wackner’s staff? Why do they need more parking?
And like, it’s one thing when Wackner’s antics affect people who are part of his little bubble, since they all have agreed to be there. How can he just reserve street parking? Wouldn’t this get shut down in a day? Julius would NOT be the only one furious.
Then Julius decides to steal Wackner’s book of seals so he can make it look like his ticket is paid.
So if they have footage from the cancel culture episode of Wackner Rules, why wouldn’t they have used it? We see it here, in the editing room, so why are the cases so boring again? (I’m sorry, I know I've said this like 1000 times, but it’s bothering me so much that this episode isn’t even internally consistent.)
(This whole plot is a time-filling detour tbh. I have no problem believing Wackner Rules could be an interesting TV show seeing as how I am watching it as part of an interesting TV show, so I don’t get why we need to spend all this time on how this obviously bad first draft of the show is bad and that it can be improved by fixing a non-existent problem? Also, there are zero stakes because Del owns the show and is also the one deciding whether or not to air the show.)
(Like, there could be a version of this where the focus group really helps us get into where Wackner’s stuff does and doesn’t translate and the changes he’s asked to make and how the fact it’s television changes the court, blah blah blah. Instead, the premise seems to be that the show is capturing what Wackner’s court was like in the days before Marissa or Cord or Del became involved, which makes no sense and is also boring!)
They’re mentioning Marissa being in the IDF again. This comes up because the re-edit of Wackner Rules is all about Marissa. This is kind of fun and meta! Marissa would definitely be a favorite on a reality show!
It turns out this re-edit is mostly about how the editor has a huge crush on Marissa.
I know that these tv writers know the process for tv writing and production better than I possibly could. I still do not believe that this reality show has one producer (Del) and an editor who is making executive decisions about the content of the show, and that this is for some reason happening in a mobile trailer parked outside of the court. Surely there would be meetings about what direction to take, not just a vague instruction to “make it better”?
In case I needed more evidence that the writers did not bring their A-game for this episode, we get Diane talking to RBG, again, because apparently now there are no other ways to clue us in on what Diane’s thinking. This is just lazy.
The RBG thing worked for me in 5x06 because it felt like a novel way for Diane to get to talk out loud, and that episode that wouldn’t have worked if we didn’t have a way to see what Diane was thinking. Here, it feels like the writers are doing it because they did it before and it worked and it’s thematically connected and it’s easy.
Doesn’t this entire scene just radiate laziness????
I know not every episode can be great but just don’t try to do something interesting and innovative if you’re going to half ass it.
I’m not even bothered by the thought that Diane daydreams about conversations with RBG. I buy that. I just don’t need this conversation (which feels way too much like it’s supposed to be an actual conversation for my taste).
OMG please stop talking about how RBG and Scalia were friends, I beg you, if you’re going to do this device again can you at least have a different conversation.
So much exposition. Diane knows someone named Allegra through EMILY’s List and thinks she’ll be a perfect choice for the third partner. Diane did hear she had a meltdown, though.
Julius gets arrested for stealing Wackner’s sticker book. When he starts shouting about how it’s a fake court, the officer is like, “As real as Officer McFinely’s death?” calling back to the last episode. I do find it interesting the police would be willing to overlook Wackner’s complete disregard for the law because of a grudge involving the law firm, and I like that choice.
Allegra is basically a slightly more toned-down version of Elsbeth. She has a messy, rented office, and trails off mid-thought. Since she’s kind of a familiar character type, I’m not overly impressed by her, but she’ll be fine to add some little bits of humor to the office drama, I think. My hope is that they use her in small doses, because I have a low tolerance for quirk.
Allegra’s office has tons of books. I can’t see what most of them are, but she has a copy of The Nix, and I liked that book! It’s the only fiction title I can spot; the rest seems like political commentary or pop sociology/business stuff.
Diane mentioning her RBG hallucinations to Allegra is probably a very smart way to win over Allegra.
Marissa encourages the editor, whose crush is so obvious it’s uncomfortable, to put Wackner’s outburst in the show. The one about how Del is using the show to rehabilitate the comedian!? Why would Del air that?! How does this help anything?! If the goal is to get Wackner’s court more cases, why would this make anyone choose to take their case there?
The police bring Julius to Wackner’s court, which I have a slight bit of trouble believing (not that any of this is believable, but you know what I mean—I don’t feel like it’s logical given everything else I know about this premise) but I'll roll with.
Now there’s some ridiculous, awful fake lawyer who was “devil’s advocate” with devil horns in the last episode and David Cord is prosecuting Julius and... what the actual fuck is going on in this scene? This Devil’s Advocate man would not have lasted a second in what we’ve seen of Wackner’s court before this point—he is an obvious liar and showman who Wackner would have no patience for. And if Cord has a bone to pick with Julius, this is an odd way of showing it, because it feels like Cord is there as a familiar face and not for a story reason.
Like, does Cord actively HATE Julius? Is... that supposed to be the point of this?
Seriously though, Devil’s Advocate would get like two sentences into his story about how Julius grew up poor before Wackner would make him stop, and if he got farther than that, Julius interrupting to ask “What are you talking about?” would’ve prompted Wackner to hold up that “cut the shit” card.
This humor is so fucking lazy. In the worst moments of this show, they take gags that have previously been successful and run with them until you can’t believe you ever found them endearing. That’s this scene.
Also it just occurred to me when I referenced the “Cut the Shit” card that we’ve seen Wackner be able to get audience responses to his cases. Seems to me like you pretty much already have your focus group results, no? You do more of the things that make the live audience excited and fewer of the things that make them get up and leave. The things that the live audience plays along with and reacts to are the catch phrases you’re going to put on merchandise. I’m not a TV producer and this is very obvious to me.
Instead of telling this lying lawyer to stop, Wackner instead asks the court musician to play “This is Us like music.” Make it stop. I don’t know who finds this funny but it’s not me!
Can you IMAGINE the fake reality show airing any of this? I dislike it and I know all of the players and context.
There is a shot of Del looking excited to see what’s going to happen. I’m sorry, but if Del’s instincts are this bad I just do not believe he runs a streaming service. Maybe his main role is to do the business stuff, not the content stuff? (But if so, why’s he always hanging around Wackner’s court?)
This episode is full of extremely essential scenes, like Marissa and the editor having sex as they watch footage of Marissa. Good for Marissa, I guess? This could’ve really easily just been implied. And if you really want to give Marissa more material, give her an arc, not a hookup where the focus of the sex scene is the editor dude. Or, like, just let her react to the whole prison revelation from the last episode. WHY ARE WE NOT TALKING ABOUT HOW WACKNER IS SENDING PEOPLE TO PRISON?
Liz and Allegra meet. Allegra makes it sound like it is about her book but then she’s extremely (and intentionally, I think) obvious that she’s there to be the third partner and that Diane scouted her.
What is the point of Allegra asking if Liz has a view of Willis Tower and misidentifying the building? Presumably Allegra lives in Chicago, so you’d think she’d know its most recognizable building by sight (and would probably also call it the Sears Tower).
Liz likes Allegra.
Now there are a ton of cops in court and Del is loving the drama. Sure, it’s dramatic, but is this really want you want to air? Some convoluted thing where a bunch of police officers intimidate a lawyer who works at a firm that was unfairly linked to a cop killing because that lawyer refused to pay a parking ticket issued by a fake court? Who... who is this for?! What’s the angle? Who is amused by this?
Marissa sees Julius is the defendant and jumps into action. She asks Wackner why he’s prosecuting Julius and he says it’s his job. She argues that Julius is from their firm and this is bullshit. Wackner still won’t let him go.
If Julius is from the firm and Wackner employs the firm, is Julius NOT covered under the court employee banner? Why do I even care.
Wackner acts like he’s just not bending the rules, just like Marissa wanted. I’m not interested in this enough to decide whether I agree that this is consistent or think this is actually a different scenario. I just want to be done with this episode so I can forget about it.
I imagine—maybe hope is a better word—that this episode is bad because it’s hard to write five great episodes in a row without kind of phoning one in. I wish this episode didn’t kill the momentum coming out of 5x07 but I’m hoping that it is an isolated issue and not a drop in quality that will also spoil 5x09 and 5x10.
Wackner closes the door on Marissa, which I think is supposed to be meaningful, and Marissa calls Diane down to Wackner’s court to help Julius.
Diane and Liz both go to court. “I’m about to be sent to prison for parking in a purple zone,” Julius explains. “What does that mean?” Diane asks. “If I explained it to you, it wouldn’t make any more sense,” Julius says.
Oh so now we remember that Wackner’s prison exists. When I said I wanted more about it, I didn’t mean that I wanted it looming as a threat... I meant I wanted to explore what it meant that Wackner was promoting prisons...
Diane asks if they should call the police, “the real ones.” I like that it takes her a second longer than Liz and Julius to understand the cops are real. Liz also notes that the SA’s office won’t help either because they might be happy with anything that fucks with RL. This scene is decent. Some of the themes in here are decent. It just feels poorly timed and with the emphasis in the wrong place. I imagine the goal here is to show that Wackner is now more concerned with enforcement than with the process for trials, and that enforcement brings with it a lot of uncomfortable questions. I wish that we’d spend less time on the incredulous reactions and silliness and more time reckoning with those questions.
The next focus group likes the Wackner anger outburst, because, in Del’s mind, they want to see Wackner care about something. Does Del have the worst judgment ever? Wackner looks invested in every single thing he does—how could anyone accuse him of not seeming like he cares? His whole thing, the whole thing that got Del’s attention, is that he pays each case the kind of individualized attention it deserves. Now he only looks like he cares if he blows up? Even if the thing he’s caring about in the explosion in question is his own reputation? Is Del trying to make Wackner into a mid-2010s anti-hero? And if so... why?
Wackner’s outburst that accuses Del of corruption is apparently so good it got an unprecedented “95%” from the focus group. Sure. Why not.
Then Del tells him to keep doing cases “just like this” and they’ll keep the court going. Does that mean just like the ALREADY HIGH PROFILE AND ALREADY HAND PICKED FOR TELEVISION cancel culture case, or cases like the Julius case? If the first, well, duh, that’s why they picked that case in the first place. If the second, again, why?
“You and your colleagues think you get to decide when and how justice is determined. You think it is your right to make and break the rules as you see fit,” Wackner says to Julius. UM, WACKNER, THAT IS LITERALLY YOUR ENTIRE DEAL???????????????????????????
That’s the point, right????? Please tell me the point of this is that Wackner is supposed to look totally hypocritical and like an egomaniac who thinks his own judgment should not be questioned but everyone else’s should be????????????????????????? If this line isn’t meant to be supremely ironic I... I wouldn’t even know where to start.
“The law belongs to the people,” Wackner says, and the cops start chanting, “USA!”. What?!
And then we cut away from this and suddenly we’re welcoming Allegra to the firm and... did I miss an entire episode or something? What happened with Julius? Why are Liz and Diane smiling? How did Diane and Liz’s conversation about Allegra go? Did the other partners agree to this? Did David Lee? This is a very big development! I need more!
Madeline seems welcoming towards Allegra. She and another partner are still suspicious of Diane because they have seen right through this strategy. So... I guess we aren’t done with this arc yet.
Aw, Liz has a picture of herself with her son when he was a baby on her desk.
Diane and Liz drop Wackner as a client. It takes longer than it should for Marissa’s name to come up in this conversation.
If you were wondering about the Julius case we spent most of the episode building up, it’s resolved off screen by Wackner releasing Julius with time served. Why? Don’t know. Did it seem like it was headed that way during anything we previously saw? Nope.
Wackner won’t let Diane and Liz back out, saying he gets to choose his representation (does it REALLY work this way?) and also, probably more importantly, that they won’t be able to get all of Cord’s business if they piss him off by dropping Wackner.
Wackner also notes that they picked up his pilot. I’m sorry, what? Del didn’t just decide that the series he created for his streaming platform would be straight to series? That whole little “Wackner doesn’t test well” plot was resolved by showing an episode with the COTW they obviously should’ve shown from the start and then Wackner made a total of zero changes to his behavior or attitude and now the show is a huge success? What was the POINT? Why did I just watch that?!
“Fuck,” Liz says as the episode ends.
I’ve kinda always thought this, but it’s worth saying again: Madeline and company should resign from the firm. BOTH RL and STRL care more about profit than anything else. Liz and Diane want to work together. Liz and Diane both take the threat of losing Cord’s business seriously. If Madeline wants a firm that’s focused on social justice, it doesn’t matter if Diane is name partner or not. Liz is probably even faster than Diane to decide things based on money, and even if she weren’t, STRL owns them! Plus, I have a feeling that Diane, her clients, Liz, and Cord are probably individually worth more to STRL than Madeline and the other partners combined. If Allegra is down to pursue profit and deal with corporate overlords too, then Madeline and the others matter even less to STRL. Just cut your losses and start the firm you want to start. At this point it won’t even compete with RL.
Don’t get me started on this absolutely idiotic title sequence for Wackner Rules. I’m sure this is someone’s idea of a joke. If I take it seriously, then I have to write about how it is even worse than all of the things I just complained about for the entirety of this recap, and honestly, I’m exhausted.
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Tempting Fate - Part Six
Paring: Tommy Shelby x Reader
Warnings: Nothing major.
Word Count: 1,815
Story Summary: Tommy is not a believer in fate or destiny. However, a new resident in Small Heath will question his beliefs and push his boundaries outside his comfort zone.
Chapter Summary: Tommy gets attacked by Sabini’s thugs. You help him recuperate at home. He tells you of his plan to meet with Alfie Solomons to join forces against Sabini.
A/N: While this story takes place during season two of the show, I made some changes to the timeline. For instance, Tommy meets May before meeting Alfie Solomons. Tommy also gets attacked by Sabini’s men long after meeting May. I just wanted to make that clear. The Garrison got bombed and rebuilt before the start of the story.
Please do not post any of my fics to other sites without my permission.
Tag list: @owenniasstars
You knew it was not a good idea for Tommy, Arthur, and John to go to London to appear at the Eden Club. The jazz club was owned by Darby Sabini, the man who currently controls half of the southern racecourses. These are racecourses Tommy desired to take over for himself. To no surprise, the Shelby brothers more than let their presence at the club be known, making sure to cause a raucous and leaving destruction in their path. Typical antics by the Shelby brothers. You and Polly adamantly told Tommy that being reckless was not how to get noticed by Sabini, but Tommy merely brushed them both off.
"Sabini is aware of us now. That was the whole purpose of the trip. He'll make his move, eventually, and when he does, we will be ready," Tommy voiced nonchalantly.
You merely shook her head in disapproval at Tommy. "Okay, the fact that you gave Sabini the upper hand is a really dumb move," you said honestly. "Why would you do that, Tommy? Do you have a death wish or something?" you asked him, concerned for his wellbeing.
Tommy got up from his chair to stand in front of you. He placed his hands on your shoulders and began to gently rub them to help calm your nerves. He softly spoke your name and told you that everything was going to be okay. "You got nothing to worry about, love. You got to trust me on this. I know what I am doing; nothing about my plan is out of place," Tommy reassured you.
However, the small voice inside you was telling you otherwise. It did not take long for your fears to come to fruition. You were at the betting shop helping Polly and Esme on little tasks when they got word that Tommy was in the hospital. Apparently, Tommy got set up by the Jews who asked him for a sit-down only to be attacked by Sabini and his thugs. You told Polly that you were going with her to the hospital. Before she could refuse, you held your hand up to say, "I'm going. Don't try to stop me."
Polly waved you along to follow her to the car and told Esme to watch the house. On the way to the hospital, you kept shaking your leg right leg and fidgeting in your seat.
"I told Tommy something like this would happen, but he didn't listen. He never listens," you almost shouted.
Polly could only sigh, "That's Thomas for you. He always claims to know what is right. He never takes what others think or feel into consideration."
You pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, and let it out. "It's always going to be like this, isn't it?" you asked, looking towards Polly. "Always worrying about him?"
"Yes. If you are going to be with Tommy, then that will be your life from now on. Think you can handle it?"
"I don't know. But I know no other woman would be able to. He needs someone to look after him, even though he may not think so," you told Polly, who let out an amused chuckle.
"What?" you asked her, confused.
"Nothing, dear. You really were made for Tommy. The two of you are written in the stars," Polly praised happily. "I'm glad Tommy has you around to look after him. Helps ease off my load."
When you and Polly made it to the hospital, it didn't take long to find Tommy. The doctor told you both that Tommy was lucky to be alive. Polly asked you if it was okay for her to see Tommy first. You agreed and waited until she was done.
Polly was only in the room with Tommy for fifteen minutes.
"We're leaving," said Polly.
When she reached for your arm, you pulled away. "What? No! I need to see him!" you shouted.
"Shhh!" ordered Polly. "He says he doesn't want any more visitors. He needs to rest, now let's go."
But you pulled out Polly's grasp and walked towards the hospital room. You saw a row of beds, and Tommy was at the very end. You slowly walked up to him and sat down. It pained you to see him in such a state. Cheek cut, eye swollen shut, ribs bruised and broken. It took all of your strength not to break down in front of him.
He looked at you but didn't say anything. Leaning his head back on the pillow, Tommy let out a disappointed sigh. You didn't say anything. The last thing you wanted to do was scold him or tell him, "you told him so." That wasn't what he needed. So you reached for his hand and intertwined it with yours. He squeezed it tightly. It was his way of thanking you for being there with him.
Nothing was needed to be said between the two of you. Tommy was grateful to have you next to him, even if he didn't actually say it. Your gesture showed him that you were not going anywhere and that you would stay by his side no matter what happened.
What's worst is that Sabini's men also accosted Ada. Thankfully, Tommy already had some of the Peaky Blinders watching out for his little sister. But it was Ada who eventually fought off the thugs herself. You had yet to meet Ada but heard a lot about her from her brother's and aunt. You found out that Ada's husband, Freddie, had recently died from pestilence, and they had a young son, Karl. Ada decided not to move back to Birmingham but chose to stay in London for she didn't want much to do with her family. However, Tommy was not too keen on letting his little sister cut him and the others out of her life so easily. Typical Tommy, you thought.
You visited Tommy every day at the hospital for the first week. By the second week, you could tell he was getting restless. "I need to get out of here," he kept telling you.
"Tommy," you began, "You need to rest and heal."
Unfortunately, Tommy didn't listen and checked himself out of the hospital. Luckily, you caught him as he was getting ready to leave.
"What do you think you are doing, Thomas?" you scolded him. But he didn't say anything.
Tommy struggled to put on his coat. You let him struggle as you knew helping would only make him feel emasculated. When Tommy finally looked at you with pleading eyes, you walked over and helped him into his coat. You folded his collar down and smoothed out his shirt underneath.
While his face had healed up nicely, it still pained you to look at him. His ribs were still bruised but still managed to be able to move around. You offered your arm for him to take, which he did.
Slowly, you both walked out of the hospital.
"I couldn't stay there anymore. Sabini's men would have come to finish me off eventually or someone else," Tommy told you. What he did not tell you was that Chester Campbell visited him earlier. Campbell found out that Tommy killed Eamonn Duggan and threatened Tommy to work for him as a spy or be jailed and hanged.
"Take me back to your place," Tommy instructed. "I'll finish healing there, okay."
"Well, that makes me feel a little bit better," you said with a small smile.
When you got Tommy home, you took him up to your bed, where he slept for the remainder of the day. You fed him when he got up and cleaned his wounds. You told him to stay put when you went for your shift at The Garrison. He was already asleep when you returned. You snuggled next to help and held him while he slept peacefully. Polly, Arthur, and John would make trips to your house to check on Tommy and give him updates on the business. This routine occurred for another week before Tommy became eager to get back to work physically.
He told you that he was heading back to London to meet Alfie Solomons, the leader of the Jewish gangsters in Camden Town. "I'm going to offer Solomons to join forces with us. I also need to stop by Ada's home to see how she is doing. If she is going to stay in London, then she needs a better place to stay, so I bought her a house," Tommy shared with you that morning.
"How are you getting to London?" you asked him curiously. "More than likely, Sabini's men or folks he hired are keeping watch to let him know of your whereabouts."
"I got that covered. I'm meeting up with Charlie and Curry in an hour down by the canal. Curry will take me to London on a barge. It will take a couple of days to get there…"
"Is anyone else going with you?" you interrupted Tommy.
He shook his head 'no' and lit a cigarette. "I need to do this myself," Tommy said to you.
While Tommy knew that you more than likely would have wanted to go with him to make sure he stayed safe, you nodded your head as a show of understanding. You realized that it would be in your best interest to trust Tommy and not doubt him.
"Well, while you are gone, Esme and I are going to meet up with Johnny Dogs to head to a fair not too far from here. The kids have been bugging John and her about going to a fair. John couldn't go, so I offered to go with her. I think Esme is a little bit homesick. She misses traveling."
"Please stay out of trouble while I'm gone," Tommy advised firmly. "I don't want to picture the trouble you and Esme will no doubt get into. Both of you, please behave yourself."
You couldn't hold back your laughter. "We're going to have the kids with us, so not much trouble the two of us can get into. But don't worry, we will behave ourselves," you told Tommy and got up to kiss on the lips.
Before you could step back, his hand grasped the back of your head and deepened the kiss. With Tommy's injuries, the two of you hadn't been intimate with one another in a long while.
When Tommy stood up, he began unbuttoning your blouse and walking you back to the bedroom.
"Tommy, we can't. You're still hurt," you pleaded, but it went on deaf ears as Tommy guided you to the bed.
"I need you, love. It has been too long. Trust me, being inside you will make me feel better," Tommy uttered while kissing your neck and chest.
Who were you to deny the man? You needed him just as he needed you.
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Since I loved the last one so much here’s another if you’re up for it :)
For Amy x Laurie
“you’re mine, and i don’t share”
Laurie stood in front of his full-length mirror, adjusting his stance to the weight of the small, palm-sized box in his pocket. It wasn’t that heavy, but it might as well have been for how aware he was of its presence.
“Amy…” said Laurie, putting on his most serious face for the mirror. Immediately, he turned away. “No, no, it sounds like you’ve done something wrong…” He turned back to the mirror, a debonair grin stretching across his cheeks. “Hey there, little lady — No, that’s worse, that is so much worse!”
He paced the length of his bedroom before diving for his phone on his bed, suddenly struck with a brilliant idea: call Jo.
“Hey, Teddy.” The brunette appeared on his screen.
“Hey, I have your permission to ask for Amy’s hand in marriage, right?”
“Hold on.” Jo turned around in her leather armchair and yelled with her full chest, “Mama, does Laurie have our permission to ask Amy’s hand in marriage?”
“Yes!” the girls’ mother yelled back.
“Jesus! Don’t tip her off!” Laurie’s eyes were nearly bugging out of his head.
But Jo just waved him off, her long nose scrunching as though he was something that mildly annoyed her, like a pebble in her boot or a pen out of ink. “Amy’s gone out. Christmas shopping.”
Laurie exhaled heavily. “I swear, you’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days.”
“Not if you give me an aneurysm first,” Jo quipped.
Laurie laughed. “Right, so now that we’ve worked that out: How should I ask her?”
“That’s your job to figure out. I’m not going to help you be lazy —”
“I am not being lazy!” He sat up indignantly, taking his phone with him in such a haphazard way that only half his face was in the frame only half the time. “I’ve tried —”
“How many times?”
“What?”
“How many times did you get up in front of your mirror and say something you thought was stupid?”
“Like… two,” he mumbled.
“Call me when you get to a hundred.”
“No, no, no, Jo! Don’t leave m—”
Beep. The call disconnected.
“Ugh…” Laurie flopped down onto the floor. “Amy, you’re mine and I don’t share, will you marry me?” He flipped over so he was lying on his stomach, his hands lightly clasped under his chin. “Amy, love of my life — no, she is literally going to tell you you’re full of it and laugh in your face while putting the ring on her own finger, goddammit.”
Quite literally, Laurie wracked his brain for the right words. His hair was in such disarray by the time he stilled. He knew Amy would most likely say yes. They’ve talked about marriage before. They’ve talked about building a life together, even having kids (they both wanted exactly one), and he knew this should have set him at ease, made the proposal flow naturally, but he was still nervous, more nervous than he’d ever been in his life (and he’d asked Jo out and she was a regular bulldog).
Laurie got up, only to get down on his knees and take the small box out of his pocket. He looked up at where he imagined his girlfriend’s beautiful face would be and popped the box open. “Amy… I love you… the kind of love that felled empires and broke hearts and started scandals... but also... the kind of love that built homes in hostile lands and made hearts whole again and didn’t care what anyone else thought… I love you… and I will love you for the rest of my life, the only question is… will you take it?”
“Yes,” she whispered behind him.
He spun around quickly, still down on one knee, and promptly fell sideways to the floor. And that was Amy’s favorite part of the story to tell at Christmas, Thanksgiving, every. Single. Occasion. Over. And over. Again. For the rest of their lives.
thank you for this ask, @thatmartinskishit! i had so much fun with it! hope you liked it and happy holidays! xx
#welcome to the cheese factory#we make proposals#and domestic fluff#and all your otps basically#jeannie bean writes#amy x laurie#little women fanfiction#amy march#theodore laurie laurence#jeannie bean gets asked#12 days of christmas
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I had two people ask for some advice on starting up/running a blog, so I thought I’d make a little post for anyone else looking for advice! There’s no one right way to run a blog and I am by no means an expert. This is just a compilation of some of the things I’ve learned :)
Feel free to add advice to this!
- The first thing is something I cannot stress enough. Write for yourself first. You will be absolutely miserable if you’re only writing for attention. I’m not saying it’s easy, but it’s so incredibly important. If you don’t like a prompt, fandom, or scenario? You don’t have to write for it! A personal example: I’m a theatre kid and total musical nerd. I could probably write some compelling Dear Evan Hansen or Hamilton headcanons if I wanted to, but I don’t. That’s fine! I’m allowed to say I won’t write for it and deny prompts/requests for those fandoms.
- Set boundaries. This is a very mixed community with all sorts of creators and participants with hands in different baskets. Don’t want minors to interact? Put minors DNI in your bio. SFW only? Put it in the bio. No RP? Bio. This goes for private conversations/askbox/other interactions as well. If someone comes into your askbox/dms and says something that makes you uncomfy, shut it down.
- My advice is more geared towards writing than art or video, but I suppose you could apply this advice as well. Make what makes you happy! If you’re only in one fandom, feel free to stay there and make content for it. Multi-fandom? Excellent! Completely non-fandom? Epic! Make the content that you want to see and the content that makes you happy to create, especially if you’re in a more niche fandom/area.
- Organization. ...I’ll admit this one is more of a personal pet peeve than something urgent, but it is something that people positively respond to. If you have some sort of consistency/organization to your blog, it’ll make it easier and more enjoyable for people to navigate. Make a fandom list/indicate your fandoms somehow (mostly for prompt purposes. people can’t read your mind, so it’s important to tell them what you will write for and what you won’t, however you want to do that)!
Make a masterpost/link your fic tag! Use a fic tag of some kind. Give your fics summaries and leave a little bit of the fic above the ‘read more’ to intrigue folks (look at #my fics and my masterpost for basic examples of how I do this, if you need!). Use read mores. Please use read mores (if you can, idk if they’re on mobile. regardless no one wants to encounter a three thousand word block of text on their dash). (No seriously though, organize your blog, even if it’s super simple. literally just a ‘mine’ or ‘my fics’ or ‘[pseud] writes’ and a fandom tag. It’ll make it easier for people to find your stuff and support you)
- Practice general internetiquette. Please remember that the people in this community are real people with feelings, boundaries, and lives outside of the blog that they run. Be genuine and people will respond to you! Don’t manipulate people into likes/reblogs/attention. No one wants to be on the other end of that. Being in this community isn’t a transaction or a mosh pit, it’s an experience.
- Be ever-so-liberal with the block button. Someone’s user makes you uncomfortable? They give you bad vibes? They’re a minor/older than you and you don’t want them interacting with your content? You don’t wanna see their blog for some reason? Block em. This goes for anons too. That’s what the button is for. Don’t feel guilty for using it. Use it.
- How you write is 100% a personal choice and not really something that I can give advice on, but embrace your style! take prompts if you want, or don’t. Write oneshots, series, drabbles, or novels. Write romantic, or don’t. Etc. Change things up if you feel like it. Do what you want. Your blog, your style, your rules.
- Numbers matter. Don’t let them define you. This is a bit of a harder one to explain, but I will try. I often say that I don’t care about numbers, and I really don’t, but that’s not to say that I don’t see them and they have zero effect on me. I absolutely notice and am bummed if a fic doesn’t get notes, or at least the notes that I was expecting. That is entirely normal and okay to experience. What isn’t okay, though, is creating for the sake of getting notes/numbers/attention (re: write for yourself first, internetiquette). If you find yourself relying on tumblr for gratification and a reward, I implore you to take a break. I’m not your therapist or your parent, I’m not gonna tell you what to do, but when you make things only for the sake of notes, people notice. Celebrate your milestones. Know that it’s okay to be bummed about low notes/celebrate getting plenty. Just make sure that you don’t depend on the numbers for your happiness, or you will be miserable.
- You’re (probably) doing this for free. You are providing people content: a service. Produce as much or as little as you’re comfy with, but always remember that. No one is entitled to what you make. If someone asks you for headcanons, sends a prompt when prompts are closed, etc, and you don’t feel like fulfilling it? You have no obligation to do that. Getting commissioned is another story entirely, but as long as you’re making free content, you have zero obligation to do anything for anyone and certainly no time constraints. It can take me months to finish prompts, and that’s okay. I do them when I do them and I fill them how I want to. If my prompts are closed, I deny new ones until I’m ready to accept them. Make yourself happy first.
- How you interact with others is up to you! It’s generally considered good practice to like/reblog your mutuals fics/art, but this is not necessarily a hard and fast rule. I veeeeeery rarely reblog fics for fandoms that I’m not in, even from my mutuals. What you can do to show your support (and you should try and show support somehow. No one is in competition. Everyone’s in your boat, whether they have no followers or 1k) is send an ask/reply to the post/leave tags to let the author know you liked it. Like the fic and don’t reblog it, if you don’t want to. Just make sure you show your mutuals (and others in general!) roughly the same support they show you, however you decide to do that. Treat others how you want to be treated, as cheesy as it sounds :)
- Don’t repost content that isn’t yours without express permission from the original creator, and credit them appropriately. If you see a cute piece of tickle art and the artist doesn’t want it reposted? Don’t repost it. Don’t post fics/videos/gifs that aren’t yours (obviously if it’s like a scene from a movie/a clip on youtube that’s different, but don’t take credit for things you didn’t make, including ideas). Can’t tell you how frustrating it is to have work stolen from you. Don’t be that person. ‘Credit to original artist’ and ‘credit unknown’ is total bullshit btw. Link/tag the creator in the original post and make it clear you don’t own the content. Best practice is to ask the original creator if they’re okay with reposting, work inspired by or connected to theirs, etc. This goes doubly for saving/downloading someone’s fics.
- It is not illegal for a minor to have normal, nonsexual, healthy friendships with people older than them. There’s a weird attitude that minors have nothing of value to offer adults besides a relationship/sex, which is...not true? Minors are thinking, living human beings with feelings, thoughts, and opinions. You can talk to them like normal people, because they are. Just obviously don’t talk about/introduce sex or endanger them. Minors don’t bring up sex/activities you’re underage for with an adult. IDK this isn’t a seminar just...don’t be weird. Adults can offer great life experience, support systems, and the basic joys and needs of human connection. Minors can too. Mind your business unless someone’s actually in danger. The next point is a caveat, though:
- If you’re a minor, don’t interact with NSFW blogs/blogs with ‘Minors DNI’, NSFW blogs don’t interact with minors, etc etc. Not your parent or whatever but this is pretty common sense and it’s for everyone’s safety, but especially the NSFW person. internettiquette!
- If you use your TK blog as a side blog (meaning you have another blog as your main blog, not two separate accounts) and don’t want your main exposed, that is up to you. I recommend not liking posts. Also, follow people that you trust. These actions route through your main blog and your main will show up in the notes. You can reblog from a sideblog. If you want to send an ask “as your tk blog”, send an anon and sign it somehow, like ‘hey :) // @/tickle-bugs’. It should tag you in the post so you get a notification when it’s answered!
- Find your people! As an anxious person this one has been hard for me, so I know it’s hard for a lot of people. Fandom is literally a community of shared interest. Peachy and I have an iron bond almost two years later and we met talking over shared interests. You can absolutely find your people here. If someone makes you happy, strike up a conversation! Send an ask! You never know what doors it might open or whose day you might improve :)
- If you were an anon/lurker on someone’s blog and they inspired you to write/submit/start your own, sign your messages!! the common form that I see is either an emoji or [noun/context of the ask]!anon (prodigal!anon (i miss u every day), butterfly!anon, etc.) Let us know how to find and support you!! Those messages produce good brain juice.
- The big finale: Have fun. If you’re not having fun here, maybe you could tweak something to make things enjoyable. Running a blog is like driving a car. Keep your hands on the wheel, respectfully indicate your intentions (flashing lights optional), and be safe. Poebody’s nerfect, y’know. If you make a mistake, course correct. I’m by no means perfect. Your favs aren’t either. Just do your best and have a good time :)
@rosytickles and the anon in my inbox, I hope this helps! Thank you for asking me, I’m very honored that you value my opinon/experience/advice. I apologize if I come off as preachy or aggressive, I envisioned grabbing my younger self by the lapels and shaking me vigorously while I wrote this. Probably a bad idea.
Anywho, hope it helps. Anyone with questions, additions, or comments, my askbox is open! Just be constructive, is all I ask.
#bug speaks#advice tag#sorry again if this sounds preachy or aggressive at any point i literally wrote it like i was grabbing younger me by the lapels#these are all things i learned through experience/observation i promise im not talking out of my ass here#the largest obstacle to maintaining a blog is how you view your happiness in relation to it. talked about it above but yeah.#also like i said: not a professional and not your parent. just giving friendly advice sine i was directly asked for it.#might add more to this if I think of more#my askbox and dms are open for questions/comments/additions just pls be respectful and constructive#other tfb community members feel free to add to this!
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