#Most woman in my family did. But I also recognize that not every woman is a farmer
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going absolutely fucking feral. fuck?
I’ve been getting a lot of TERF posts rec’ed to me through the #feminism tag lately. And they’re most often only tagged something like #feminism or #woman, so filters aren’t catching them. And it’s all just… anti-woman and anti-feminist take after take. Like. How have they hijacked the narrative and monopolized the meaning of feminism to be something so reactionary and reductive? They genuinely believe takes like, “women should be forced to abort children” are feminist. BFFR. They just hate other women having bodily autonomy.
I saw one just now where someone was like, “I was daydreaming about men just disappearing”— like being raptured— “and then realized that all women don’t know how to do male jobs and got angry” (and they did say ALL). They then went on to talk about how no women knows how to operate machinery because women have been prevented from EVOLVING to do the same things men do because men forced women to EVOLVE to serve them. Evolved. They were like, “all men could just… build a wood bridge but we women are kept from that knowledge. We have no teachers.”
Further fucking proof that these misogynistic asshats do not build community with black, brown, indigenous, poor, rural, or working class women. They live in a theoretical fantasy world daydreaming about men disappearing and “female separatism” rather than offering real fucking solutions. They live in a world where every last woman has the same lived experience as them. They assume all women are oppressed in the same way. They ignore intersectionality to purposefully minimize ableist, racist, classist, heterosexist, and cissexist structures so that everything is organizable into a simple and universal M > F dynamic. This way, in their chronically white movement, they, the white woman, is always oppressed and never responsible for the marginalization of others.
Oh. And the OP had the label “fascist” in her username. They’re self aware now, but at what cost?
Trans Exclusionary Radical Fascism, everyone:
The patriarchy is inevitable. Change is impossible. We are never escaping this hell hole.
Some other “gems” I saw, TW for racism, misogyny, ableism, and abuse:
The amount of Arabophobia, Islamophobia, racism, misogyny, and ableism I see in the #feminism tag every day is truly sickening. Like 1/4 of the posts anymore seem to be from white radfems sexualizing Arab, Asian, and Black women (while denigrating and singling out typically Arab, Asian, and Black personal-care and beauty practices) while another good 1/4 of the posts seem to be anti-queer. And then some 50% are porn bots with #sissy kinks. The tag has been trashed by bigots and bots, and I’m surprised that Staff hasn’t marked it mature content yet for the sheer level of porn bots using the tag. Oh, wait. I do know why. It’s because Staff employs JKR stans who would rather label #transfemme as mature content than combat the porn bots.
#misogyny#In their weird rapture fantasy#I would not get raptured despite being a man/man-adjacent (or maybe I would given they want us ‘troons’ to keel over too)#but. as a former farm girl. this rhetoric is personally insulting#do they think farm girls are all like the wealthy trad wives in TikTok?#‘I spent today baking bread and organizing flowers with my baby on my hip’#and the oven behind her is— like— $80000#I spent my childhood building platforms and decks and bridges#as well as operating combines and tractors and wielding a machete (the machete was fun)#‘No woman knows how to do these things’ 😔#Most woman in my family did. But I also recognize that not every woman is a farmer#Like. Yeah. I’m sure that the OP of that post has no clue how to drive a combine#but she doesn’t need to know because there are already women out there harvesting this nation’s feed and food#and I’m not gonna clown her for not knowing. because— again— she’s never needed to know#but here she is complaining about women being helpless because of men and how we’re all just screwed and there’s no digging ourselves out#I saw a post talking about how defeatism is oft a feature of white mentalities and worldviews and I’ve been chewing on that#like. the idea fate is predestined and nothing can change. we are just beholden to our base ‘natures’ is VERY Catholic Natural Law of them#which tracks given the foundation of radfem ideology is Catholicism#also makes sense why they’re so keen to embrace the idea of women being ‘inherently’ one way (oft good and beautiful . etc…)#and men inherently the opposite way#see: screenshot about natural predators#or their support for rape as a biological strategy natural to men’s psyche rather than a way to reinforce & take power under the patriarchy#they’re constantly arguing that the patriarchy is natural and inescapable#cool. fantastic. so… you have no real solutions or answers?
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I suppose this is statement rather than question...
I am a queer woman, and my niece came out to me as pansexual 4 years ago (she was 11). She, of course, had an ally in me. When she came out to the rest of the family a couple years later, there was a lot of anger directed at me... What did I tell her? What did we watch together? Why did I keep this a secret from them? Etc.
What did I tell her? That she was my beautiful girl, and I would love her no matter what and no matter who she loved. What did we watch? Good Omens. (Like seriously, every time she's here lol). Why did I keep her "secret"? The last thing on earth I would have ever done is betray her trust.
I truly believe that being a hardcore #Good Omens stan who is obsessed with Crowley and Aziraphale gave her the confidence to look inside herself and become who she is. That it let her see both the vastness of the universe while also recognizing the love here on the ground with us.
If there is one book/album/movie/show that I am most grateful to have shared with her, it's Good Omens.
So, as your biggest #Sandman fan and the godmother of your biggest Good Omens fan, I just want to say thank you. It's been a privilege to read what you've written.
That's unexpected and marvelous. Thank you!
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The Hand That Feeds
Featuring; Sevika x AFAB!Reader
Rating; 18+
Other Notes; Mutual pining, strangers to kinda-friends to 'yeah, we fuckin' -> Porn with plot. This was a gift that I wrote for a friend's birthday. I already shared it with them and got good feedback, so, I'm unleashing it to Tumblr.
Content Warnings; Smut, reader is AFAB, if you don't like the nickname 'princess' my condolences. Smut won't be until the second NSFW banner.
Word Count; 3.3K
Link to Masterlist
You have a tradition.
Every new moon you would sneak out of your aunt’s residence — she was a kind lady and took you in and gave you free reign — and travel across the river into Zaun.
Yet, despite what others may have thought at your regular travels, it wasn’t for thrill seeking or for nefarious activities. Part of it was out of sheer boredom, as Pilotver, while being the city of progress, was also a city of bureaucratic stillness and policy. A dreadful place when you needed a bit of chaos and authenticity.
Which is how you found yourself in The Lanes time and time again. But it wasn’t purely out of sheer boredom and wanderlust that you kept on coming back into the Undercity.
While many people had their own interests at the forefront — both in Piltover and in Zaun — you mainly came to help; bringing in fresh food. Bread, fresh vegetables and fruit, and cured meats. You used the bit of wealth that you had left from your family to give to others less fortunate. To those that had no one else to turn to.
You had been doing this long enough that you knew familiar faces and even some names. And tonight was no different in that regard.
You may not be from Zaun, but you have been to The Lanes enough to also recognize people who stuck in the background, watching.
For the past five months, a woman always stayed in the background, leaning outside of The Last Drop. She never approached you, but when your eyes crossed paths, you knew that she had been watching you give food to those that you could.
The past five months when you had come into the city she had only watched, assessing what you were doing. Seeing if it was for some ulterior motive.
Was the food spoiled? No.
Was it poisoned or traced with something? Also no.
As far as she could see and from the information that the people gave her about you, you did this for no other reason than you wanted to. And Sevika knew from when she first saw you that you weren’t from the undercity — there wasn’t the same edge that the people here had, you were sweet.
You were giving food out and this time she approached you. The dim lighting from the flickering neon signs reflected on her metal arm, catching your eye. Giving a little boy enough food for the day — as giving them too much would make them a target for theft — you turned to the newcomer.
She didn’t say anything, just giving you a once over, still assessing you.
“So,” she cocked her chin to the side a bit, talking down at you in a guarded yet curious tone, “how long have you been doing this for, topsider?”
Topsider.
You knew that you didn’t really fit in in The Lanes, but most people didn’t give you any trouble, just giving you a side glance before minding their own business.
A small smile, born out of the expected politeness of Piltover, graced your face. “Years? It’s hard to say.”
Sevika quirked her brow, “Why?”
“Why not,” you answered back.
Sevika’s mouth twitched in both amusement but also annoyed at the answer. Amused because you said it genuinely, as she was expecting a bit of sass and entitlement. Annoyed that you seemingly had no ulterior motives.
“Alright then.” Sevika just stood there for a moment, and you resisted the urge to shuffle as she continued to assess and try to come to a conclusion. Your eyes once again cross paths and she turns back and goes into The Last Drop again, leaving you alone.
Strange.
You were back in The Lanes and the sack of food had been emptied, all of it being handed out.
Ever since the woman with the metal arm had been keeping an eye on you there were fewer people who tried to push you around. It could also be the large visible knife that you kept strapped to your thigh, but having her presence around also kept people with ill intentions away, letting you be able to help the people you needed to and wanted it.
She was at her usual spot, standing by the door of the pub. Watching.
It has become a part of your routine. You had come to expect her to be there. Even though you didn’t even know her name, she had become a comforting presence in the background, like she was watching your back.
She wasn’t there tonight though.
No one had tried anything, as the knife was good enough deterrence for now, but it felt off without her there.
Placing the empty bag in your personal satchel you took the time to explore The Lanes. This was the original reason why you came into the undercity, but upon seeing how much worse the conditions here were, you sought to try and help where you could. People were just trying to survive and make ends meet.
“There’s a fight–” a guy bumps into you and keeps on walking, talking to his companion.
Around the bend you could hear a commotion, and curiosity got the better of you and you followed the noise.
There was a fight in full bloom, and the woman that you had expected to be silently watching you was in the heart of it. The fight was reaching its end though, both parties looking worse for wear, but the guy she was fighting was way worse off. The thing about having a metal arm is that it does a lot of damage to whoever it hits, and Sevika may have had some of her blood on her, but most of it was from the other guy.
He hit the ground, unconscious, and Sevika crouched down and whispered something in his ear before getting back up and walking away, but not before she saw you in the crowd. She paused for a second before continuing on, walking away from you. She had changed direction, like she was avoiding you. Going against your better judgement, you followed her, going into a dimly lit pub and looking through the sea of faces before you spotted her at the bar, ordering something.
You don’t know her. Why are you doing this? This is a stupid thing to do—
You sat down next to her and she gave you a sideways glance.
She had a cut on her face and a bloody nose. There was definitely going to be a large bruise on her arm by tomorrow. And despite being just in a fight and looking worse for wear, she was taking a long drink like this was nothing. But it probably is nothing to her.
This was also the closest that you had gotten to her, and despite her being beat up and the shit lighting in the pub, she was a very — pretty isn’t the right word, she was more than that — handsome woman.
“What are you doing,” she asked, slightly turning her head so she could properly look at you.
“You’re hurt,” and I wanted to make sure that you’re okay. But you don’t add that. You two don’t know each other. You aren’t friends. Hell, you don’t even know her name!
Sevika huffs, amused. “You saw the other guy.”
You had. “Still.”
She puts down her drink and fully turns to you, leaning forward a bit. “Listen, sweetheart, I can handle myself.”
Sweetheart. The nickname, while meant to be demeaning, made you … you didn’t know what it did, but you liked it.
She leans back, pays for her drink and leaves the pub, leaving you alone.
Sevika was back to standing guard over you. She had picked it up after hearing the silent murmurs about a topsider frequenting The Lanes.
In the months that she’s been watching — far longer than you had started noticing her — she knew a few things.
You always visited during the nights of the new moon, using the darkness as a cover.
You carried a large knife on your thigh. You never had to use it, since people knew she was keeping watch, but she saw how you would twirl it around when bored — it wasn’t just for show.
You were kind. She may not know your name, but she mentally called you Sweetheart. It seemed fitting.
And a new forth thing: you apparently made it a habit to be in the same places that she frequents when you really ought not to.
The fight had been by accident, but she hadn’t expected you to follow her into a pub.
Then again when she was making rounds — you had crossed paths with her and you gave her a nod before continuing on.
Once when she was coming out of the brothel that she frequents when pent up — something that was becoming more often as of late. You didn’t say anything, but you did walk past faster than usual, and Sevika felt a tinge of disappointment.
She had come to expect you. As much as she was an expected presence in your routine, you had become one in hers.
Tonight was the new moon, and Sevika was standing where she typically did. Waiting for you.
But you don’t show up.
Some of the regular people ask her where you are, as whenever Sevika is watching guard, you aren’t far behind. But she didn’t know. She didn’t like that she didn’t know where you were. It lingered in the back of her mind the next night.
This time you do show up, and when the last bit of food gets handed out she walks towards you, determined.
“Where were you last night?”
You turn around, not expecting her to really take notice that you were missing last night, but also she noticed.
“There was a blockade last night. The city is on high alert, so I couldn’t cross last night,” you answer.
It was true. Due to recent events, Piltover was on high alert. You couldn’t have crossed, not without suspicion or your monthly visits coming to light, so you decided to wait it out.
Sevika runs her tongue across her teeth, trying to think of something to say, but all that she knows is that she’s relieved to see you. She accepts your answer though, giving you a grunt.
You both stand there for a moment, as if waiting to see who would say something first. Who would break the slightly awkward tension. Hell, it was worse than the time you had bumped into her after she came out of a brothel — that was awkward.
You lick your lips, “Did something happen last night? When I was gone?”
No, nothing happened. “No. People just missed you.” I missed you.
Sevika caught the motion of your mouth and she also noted your appearance. She had always thought you were pretty, hell, beautiful, but she never made a move. Why, though?
She was a cautious woman, especially with those she let close. “Be careful, sweetheart.”
There’s that name again. This time you felt something warm in your chest, but she had already walked away.
You had finally learned your mystery woman’s name. Sevika. It had been several months — a year to be exact, but like you were keeping track of every time you saw her (you were) — and you finally knew her name from asking one of the bartenders at The Last Drop.
You were standing in her usual spot. You were early, the sun just starting to set, and Sevika was not expecting for you to be waiting for her.
“We need to talk,” you said, getting up from where you were leaning.
Sevika crossed her arms, not expecting the bold move. “About what?”
You walked over to a more private area, a back alley, “You keep watch over me. You have been for a while. Why?”
Ah, you finally asked the question that Sevika had been asking herself. Now, she could be honest about it — which would shed light that she had taken an interest from the rumours and then taken an actual interest in you — or she could keep it simple. Uncomplicated.
And then she remembers your answer to her question all those months back when you had first talked. “Why not?”
You pause, looking at her. You hadn’t expected that answer. You hadn’t expected her to be giving you an intense longing look that screamed more than just wanting to talk.
Fuck it.
You stepped forward and did something that you’ve wanted to do for months, placing your mouth onto hers.
And Sevika’s mouth slotted against yours, reciprocating the kiss you initiated. Once given the permission, she threw caution to the wind, finally doing what she had also been wanting. The reason why she was so pent up. You.
She ran her tongue across your lip, asking for silent permission to enter your mouth and once you did, your tongues moved against each other and she groaned into the heated kiss before breaking away. Her eyes were simmering with want, and like hell she was going to continue what you started in a dank alley.
“Didn’t know you felt that way, sweetheart,” she huffed, breath hot against your ear, making the hair on the back of neck prickle in a pleasant way.
You groaned when she pulled back. You had finally started to get what you wanted only for her to pull away. “And you feel the same way.”
It wasn’t a question. You knew. It was damn telling the way that she took over and led the kiss that she wanted you the same way you wanted her.
Sevika hums at your answer, her hand playing with the ends of your hair gently, “Do I?”
She usually wasn’t a tease, but she enjoyed seeing your reactions, wanting to hear you say the words. “What do you want, sweetheart?” She asked, nearly purring.
This woman will be the death of me.
You place yourself to where one of her legs was in between yours, “You.”
Sevika ground her leg into your core, sending some much needed friction to where you wanted her. “You’ll have to wait for a minute, princess.”
Like hell she was going to ravish you here, so picking you up, she went to a better place, using one of the back doors to get into one of the private rooms of the pub where no one would intrude — thankfully this one had a bed.
Once the door is locked, you’re both back to being on each other. Hot mouths clashing. And then the back of your knees were hitting the mattress.
You sat down, bringing Sevika with you, and she began kissing down your neck, leaving you wanting more.
A thought came into her mind, and she left a rather sharp nip on the space between your neck and shoulder, her thigh slipping between yours and flipping your positions to where you straddled her thigh. “Ride it, sweetheart.”
The timbre of her voice made you shudder and a pool of heat to form again at your core. You began to grind yourself against her thigh, annoyed that you were both clothed but wanting some sort of release. “Clothes,” you mutter, trying to control how desperate you were for her, “off.”
Sevika chuckled, amused, but obliged, taking off both of your clothes — again, leaving hot kisses on your shoulder. Once her damned pants were off, you began grinding on her again, and she could feel how wet you were and she grinned.
She could tell that you wouldn’t be able to get off just with that, but you were putting on a good show for her. “You’re doing so good, baby. You feel so wet. Fuck.” She groaned, popping one of your nipples in her mouth, and rolling the other in her mouth.
You keen, arching into her touch, wanting more. While the friction from her muscular thigh was delicious you needed more. “Sev, I –” you slightly push her head down, silently asking for her to go down on you.
Sevika put her hands on your hips and dragged you up towards her mouth, “I know.” And she placed a kiss to your inner thigh before tracing your cunt with her tongue, taking your clit into her mouth.
“Fuck,” you moan, finally getting the friction you so badly wanted. Your hands tangling in her hair for something to hold on and she groaned, the vibrations just adding to your pleasure.
Slowly, Sevika added a finger into your cunt, probing until you arched when she found your g-spot. She could tell that you weren’t sitting so she nipped your clit when she felt you hovering, “Sit.”
Once you put your full weight on her face she hummed, satisfied, and added another finger to reward you, putting extra pressure there.
With her fingers going in and out of your cunt and her tongue tracing your clit, you were reaching your climax, feeling your thighs clench up when Sevika removes her fingers and slows down on your clit, delaying it.
“W-why did you stop?”
Sevika hummed, taking the fingers that were once in you into her mouth, cleaning them off. “I didn’t.” And she moved you higher up so that her tongue was now in you and her nose ground into your clit.
She loved seeing you like this, fucked out on her fingers and her tongue, and if her tongue wasn’t doing the most mouthwatering movements in you, she would be telling you how gorgeous you were. Praising you and your body — mind you, she fell for you for how you treated others first.
You grabbed for her hand, the one that was just in you a moment ago and placed it on your neck, and Sevika carefully squeezed, choking you in the right way. “You’re doing so good, princess.”
You were reaching your high again, and Sevika was not slowing down, if anything, feeling the way that your thighs tensed on her face made her push forward. The slight pressure on my airway made you melt in her hands, and did a particularly mean nip to your clit before continuing eating you out. You were sweating by now, and moaning into her touch.
“Are you going to cum for me, baby?” She groaned, and added a bit of pressure to your lower stomach, her tongue going in deep.
Tugging a bit more harshly at her scalp you felt your breathing hitch, your eyes roll back, and you shuddered as your high finally came.
Sevika didn’t ease up, instead taking the hand that was on your neck back down to your cunt, adding three fingers inside you this time as her tongue continued on your clit. That move during your climax and the stretch alongside the pressure on your lower stomach had you seeing white and Sevika groaned as she felt you release.
You whined a bit as Sevika slowed down her movements, sensitive from your climax, working you down from it.
Giving your inner thigh a kiss, she laid you down next to her on the bed, before getting up and grabbing a warm damp cloth to clean you up with, even though your release was still on her face. She licked it off of her lips and dragged some down from her cheeks to her mouth before using the same cloth to clean her face and thigh, laying back down next to you.
She placed a hand on your face, tracing the planes of it.
You snaked your hand downward, but Sevika stopped you, bringing your hand back up, “You don’t worry about that.”
“I want to make you feel good,” you breathed, annoyed that she had stopped your wandering hands.
Sevika traced her tongue over her lip, looking at you, “You did.”
Oh. Even though she had literally just eaten you out within an inch of your life, hearing her say that she was satisfied just by giving you pleasure made you clench your thighs.
That movement didn’t go unnoticed, “Mmm, you’re still sensitive, sweetheart.” Her hand travelled down your body, promising another round once you weren’t so sensitive, although she wouldn’t mind seeing you cry from it.
#arcane#arcane x reader#arcane smut#sevika arcane#sevika x reader#sevika x afab reader#sevika smut#i wrote this over a week ago and got good feedback so *unleashes the fic*#in other notes; i survived black friday in retail. and this is the second smut piece i've written - the other time was in 2021
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Changed Woman - Chris Sturniolo
Babydaddy!Chris - Positive - Mama - Scavenger Hunts & Cinnamon Rolls Pairings - Babydaddy!Chris x fem!Reader Summary - Your babydaddy, Chris, comforts you after morning sickness continues to kick your ass. Warnings - established relationship, pregnancy, mentions of morning sickness, mentions of vomiting, sassy Nick, lil fluff Word Count - 1950 Authors Note - I knoww it's short but it would've been way too long if I didn't break it up. With that being said, another part will be out soon! I hope everyone enjoys! 🫶🏻 Also I made my own dividers, feel free to use! The own used in this post is also mine🫣 (not proofread yet) Masterlist Current Series - City of Love
Clutching the countertop in a death drip, you suck in a deep breath in an attempt to steady yourself. Recently hitting ten weeks a few days ago, your morning sickness had been kicking your ass ever since you found out you were pregnant. ‘Morning’ sickness was a horrible term because it lasted all day and night for you. Half of the things you ate your baby didn’t agree with, even if you craved it for days on end. Throwing up sporadically throughout the day made your body exhausted and achy from all the heaving. Currently in the family bathroom of a local Chili’s, you were trying your absolute hardest to pull yourself together, mainly because you were out to eat with Chris, Nick, and Matt.
Chris made you vow to keep it a secret until he was ready to tell them, but you knew time was ticking. With your small bump getting bigger by the day, the secret was getting harder to keep. You wore baggy clothes to keep the growing bump concealed but you could only do so much, you were a pro at hiding the fact you were running to the bathroom every 30 minutes to either pee or puke. The boys were starting to catch on, and both you and Chris knew it. There had been a few times where you stumbled out of bed in the middle of the night, rushing the bathroom the boys shared to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet, forgetting to shut the door behind you which gave Matt the perfect view when he’d walk out of his bedroom. Matt would rush to Chris’s room every time, waking him up to tell him what was going on, but he’d never ask questions, always assuming you were just sick. Nick was too observant, when he noticed your sense of fashion went out the window, he began to ask questions and make teasing comments - “well don’t you look bummy today,” and “why’re always in one of Chris’s hoodies? You have one on like every day.” On most occasions, Chris would be by your side to defend you by saying a quick-witted comeback like - “My girlfriend can’t wear my hoodies?” or “so what? She’s comfy.” Other times, you were left to defend yourself all by your lonesome, whether Chris wasn’t there or just wasn’t paying attention.
A light knock on the bathroom door snaps you back into reality. “Just a minute,” you manage to call out. “It’s me,” the familiar voice echoes from the other side of the door. As you recognize the voice, you reach a hand out to the door, unlocking it to let him in. Chris gently pushes it open, stepping inside of the family restroom with you and closing the door behind him, “you okay?”
Looking up at your boyfriend, you see a sympathetic look engraved into his face. He had been worried about you, ‘no way pregnancy made a woman throw up this much,’ is what he thought each time he saw you scurrying to the bathroom. Chris did his best to help out where you needed it, holding your hair, rubbing your back, and always having a water bottle in hand. He couldn’t help but feel like it wasn’t enough, like it was all his fault. It was starting to take a toll on him, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he broke down to his brothers, telling them you were carrying his baby.
When Nick and Matt started asking questions, he started making up excuses and little white lies to cover both of your asses. Lying to the two people he had always been closest to made him feel like the worst person in the world, but he knew the time wasn’t right. Right before he left the dinner table to check on you, Matt asked if you were throwing up again, making it obvious what Chris’s plans were. Whether he meant it in an innocent way or not, it didn’t put Chris’s mind at ease.
Sucking in another deep breath and nodding to your boyfriend, “m’fine, Chris. Baby didn’t like the mozzarella sticks. I don’t know, I had them last week and I kept them down just fine,” you ramble. Ten weeks in and you felt defeated and drained. Watching as Chris rubs a hand down your arm, pulling you in for a hug, “hey, it’s okay. You’re not doing anything wrong, he’s just being indecisive,” making sure to give you the reassurance he always did. His calm demeanor soothes you almost immediately. You nod a few times and turn to the mirror, looking over yourself. You were pale as a vampire; it looked like all the life and energy was sucked out to you. If this is what pregnancy was like, this baby was for certain going to be your one and only.
Chris inches behind you, letting both hands fall to your waist. A nervous expression plastered on his face as he tugs his bottom lip between his teeth, “we have to tell them soon.”
Sucking in another scattered breath, you open your mouth to speak, “I know.” You let out a lengthy sigh, “they’re catching on.” Chris nods slowly, agreeing with you, “asking too many questions,” dipping his head down to plant a kiss on your temple. His hands smooth over your small bump, lifting your shirt up, “and he’s getting big. Can’t keep him a secret much longer.”
His words put you at ease, making a smile pull at your lips. Chris had been manifesting a baby boy ever since he found out. He only referred to the baby as he or him, never she or her. You wanted a girl as bad as he wanted a boy, so it pinched a nerve every time he mentioned it. Deep down, you didn’t care what the gender of the baby was. As long as they were healthy, you would be over the moon, and you were sure Chris would be too. Regardless of the short amount of time you and Chris had been together, you knew your baby was made with so much love.
“You’re gonna be real shitty when we find out it's a girl,” you poke at him. You can tell by the way he screws up his face that he doesn’t agree with a single word you said. Bellowing out a laugh, “a girl wouldn’t be bad,” you tell him, running your hands down his arms and pulling your shirt up further to expose more of your growing bump. He lets out a soft sigh, “I know. I just really want a mini me,” he muffles, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “Well, don’t get your hopes up. We don’t know yet,” you tell him before turning your attention to your reflection in the mirror. Your bump looked bigger than normal. It seemed like every time you raised your shirt to look in the mirror, your belly grew in size - kind of like Pinocchio and his nose.
“We should tell them tomorrow,” you blurt out. Chris digs his head out of the crook of your neck, “tomorrow?”
“Yea, why not?” you beam, even though you dreaded the thought. His brothers could be a bit judgmental at times, especially Nick, who had no idea what a filter was. A lot of the time, he’d impulsively say the wrong thing, but he’d always feel bad and apologize later on. It’s not that Nick didn’t like you, he just didn’t care to not be himself around you. Matt, on the other hand, didn’t seem to give two fucks. He was happy for Chris and his intuition told him you were a perfect match for his brother. He was the main person Chris vented to which made Chris feel like he was keeping everything bottled up. He wasn’t wrong. Chris lets his hands drop to his side, pinning his bottom lips between his teeth once again as he takes a step back, “I don’t know, baby. I don’t think tomorrow is a good idea.”
“Nuh-uh,” you grumble, “what happened to a few minutes ago when you were trying to convince me the time was right?” You spin around, wrapping your arms around his neck, and playfully narrowing your eyes at him, “we’re telling them tomorrow. No ifs, ands, or buts. I mean it, Chris!”
“Yes ma’am,” he holds a hand up to his forehead, jokingly saluting you before pressing a soft kiss to your lips, “let’s get back out there, yeah?”
You follow Chris back to the secluded booth Matt had picked out for the group. Going out to eat was out of the norm for the four of you, usually you guys would go through a drive thru, but Chris suggested it and didn't let up when everyone was opposed to the idea. He wanted to get you out of the house and if he was being honest, he wanted to butter up his brothers before he broke the news to them. Chris was nervous to tell them. Nervous was an understatement. He was so scared to tell them, he felt like telling his parents would be a piece of cake.
"Please don't tell me y'all were fucking in the bathroom," Nick spits out in a playful tone. You give him a funny face, scooting into the booth while Chris mimics your actions. He didn't find it that funny, though. Nick had been giving you shit over a lot of things, from your sudden change in style to the way you ran to the bathroom. Even though you all knew Nick loved to pick on you like the little sister he never had, your hormones were at an all-time high. Chris knew your waterworks were a ticking time bomb and you were ready to explode at any given opportunity. He had not been super attentive since you revealed your pregnancy to him, he had become really overprotective. Nick constantly picking on you didn't sit right with him, but he knew if he told his brothers that you were in the bathroom throwing up again, they'd ask questions. The last thing he had the patience for was more questions. He already had too many of his own.
The four of you sit together, chatting about numerous topics as the boys finish their food. The mozzarella sticks being the culprit of your sickness just a few moments ago, you didn't dare touch them. You had thought your reluctance to finish your meal had gone unnoticed, but the waitress came back to set the bill down, asking if you need a to-go box in the process. You give her a toothless smile as everyone turns their attention to you, "that'd be great. Thank you," you tell her sheepishly.
"You didn't finish your food?" Matt asks, still chewing his last bite as he sets a few twenties down on the table. The boys get up from the table, and you follow quickly behind. You shrug off Matt's question, "you guys eat too fast," pulling the excuse out of thin air, "and I was in the bathroom." Your comment earns a nudge from Chris, indicating he liked your comeback. He crouches down to your level, "good one," making sure to whisper so his brothers don't hear.
"She didn't order her henny margarita either," Nick points out as you guys walk to the nearby exit. His comment makes Matt come to a realization, "you do always order a henny margarita!"
"What can I say? I'm a changed woman," you shoot out playfully as Chris intertwines his fingers with yours, squeezing lightly to let you know your response was valid.
🏷️ - @lvrsturniolo @ribread03 @unknvhx @m11rx @emely9274 @loveparqdise @frickin-bats @sweetshuga @thepubeburgler @katie-tibo @leila-marie4 (I think i got everyone. For some reason my tags weren't working in my last post?? Idk tumblr always acts weird to me 😫 Let me know if anyone else wants added. Going to make an actual taglist post soon!)
© All Rights Reserved to m00nl1ghts1vt. I do not wish to share my work.
#♡‧₊˚ cheyenne's works#♡‧₊˚ Babydaddy!Chris#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#chris x reader#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo smut#sturniolo#the sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo
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Did anyone watch the horror movie 'The Substance'? I've seen it because someone recommended it to me, and I saw one of the three directors was female, but now I just have few thousands words of criticism and upset about it. Click if you want to read it. Tw for themes of women abused in tv industry and the fear of aging out of their jobs.
So, the substance is about a woman aging out of her role in television where she runs a fitness program, and she is distraught to realize she's going to get replaced. Sadly she blames her own aging process about it! She gets in an accident, and then a male nurse gives her an usb showcasing 'the substance', a serum that makes a younger version of you come out of your body.
She takes it, and her body opens up to let out a younger version, a different acctress, come out and look at herself in the mirror. I was already upset by this point about the depiction of a woman losing her job for aging and hating herself, and not the industry and the males in it, but now I was in disbelief. It was funny that they wanted me to believe another woman exited from her back and didn't break her spine in the process, whatever, but now she was in a new body, and immediately went 'yas slay look how hot I am' Excuse me what?
I thought, at least one part of the horror would be feeling off and alien if forced to switch consciousness to another body, a body that is unfamiliar, that you didn't grow with, it would be traumatizing. No matter how much more 'socially likeable' a new body was, I can't imagine looking at my own hands and legs and having them look completely different, and being okay about it. It would cause a crisis in anyone, your identity would be in shambles. You couldn't get used to it, you'd have trouble looking at the mirror at all, and would forget it and constantly be reminded of it when seeing glimpses of your own hands, and it would shock and disturb you every time. How would you talk to your friends and family now? How would you deal with people you loved who couldn't recognize you? It would be mentally scarring.
If she had one single friend to talk about this, the entire premise would fall apart because it would become obvious that this is stupid and shouldn't be done.
Watching on it turned out they cut this woman out from any social context of her life. She had no friends, no family, not even any acquaintances. The only person who ever talked to her was one(1) single ex classmate, and other than that, she seemed to have zero people in her life who even knew she existed. But there's nobody like that. Yes, you can be socially isolated, but hardly to the point where nobody in the world knows you exist. If you go outside people memorize you. She didn't have anyone who knew her. She was supposed to be a popular figure on tv. But she didn't exist. This woman had no past, no existence in anyone's world, no connections to other people whatsoever. It made her less of a believable character to me. Nobody can exist completely out of social context of their life. We didn't get an explanation of why she has no family, or friends or acquaintances, or past loves, or anything like that. It was almost like she was now so irrelevant due to her age that the world just cut her out, which is scary but also ridiculous, she looked young!!
Another glaring flaw in the movie was that... the older woman in the movie was so clearly more attractive than the younger. They tried to shoot her face in harsh lightning and highlight whatever they thought was wrong with her body, but she just looked excellent under any kind of standards. What do you mean this teenager is 'hotter' than the original protagonist. She looks 17, she looks like she shouldn't be allowed outside after dark. The idea of her being filmed by older males gave me nausea, get that child away from them. I had to skip most of the scenes with her because it looked like child pornography. They had her wearing breast prostetics to make her look adult and put her in clothing no woman alive would find appealing or comfortable to wear, it was painful, uncomfortable and horrifying.
The entire existence of the younger woman was dehumanizing. She didn't eat. She didn't watch tv. She didn't do anything human. She was a male idea of a 'hot young girl', who only existed to look like what males think is appealing, dance on stage, and get male approval. That's it, we never see her exhausted, sad, commiserating how difficult it is to be around males who objectify you all day, we never see her complain about sexualizing and so obviously ignored sexual harassment she was put trough – the movie acted like sexual harassment didn't exist. Males around her appeared to only care about how much money she could make them and even though that was disgusting too, I don't believe for a second that a woman in that scenario doesn't get extensively sexually harassed. But the movie skipped over that. Like it just didn't matter. She doesn't have mental health issues because she's an attractive female child on television. She isn't human to them.
The younger woman had to switch bodies with her original counterpart weekly, and at first I found these little moments soothing, because the older woman was clearly showing signs of pain, hunger, exhaustion, irritation, depression. I thought 'oh, there's the humanity I was missing!' and was just happy to see her eat something. But then, to my horror, these little moments of humanity were ... demonized. The fact that she was eating was a flaw and a failure in the movie. She was depicted as addicted to food, jealous, bitter, angry and like giving in to any human urge for entertainment and rest was her 'wasting her life'. I was chilled by this notion, because I realized that's how males see female needs in real life. A waste.
Another thing I found upsetting was the amount of completely naked scenes the acctresses had to go trough, because I can't imagine anyone feeling okay and comfortable with being filmed like that. It felt invasive and uncomfortable for me to see. I knew it was done like this for male satisfaction, it wasn't catered to me. It disturbs me to think they felt comfortable looking at that. Female discomfort is a source of pleasure to them.
The movie progresses in the protagonist taking more and more time being in the younger body, resulting in the older body deterioration. She ends up feeling like she's two people, which is logical at least; you would feel like you're someone else if you're a different body, it at least displayed that little bit of 'you are your body' consequences. The male nurse who gave her the substance starts stalking her, and talking to her in public, and I found this part interesting. The male tried to get her to relate to him, said things like '7 days is long' and 'has she started eating at you already', and to me it became obvious that the male nurse knew exactly what this was going to do to her, and did it anyway. Because he felt lonely and wanted a female companion who also switches bodies. He picked her out and victimized her because he wanted company who also suffered and struggled with the same problem, he spread the misery for his own benefit. I thought we were going to look at that? I thought we would unpack that for a second? Male selfishness and bringing misery into female's life for their selfish purposes? But movie said no and we never see him again.
The younger version seems to forget she ever had any more age, and recklessly parties and does public events not caring that her counterpart is getting destroyed, until at the end, they both end up in some kind of monstrous shape, which okay, the extra teeth were fun, add extra teeth on women yes. But she is ultimately killed when appearing in on a social event looking like that. The ending just shows her dreaming about being famous and cheered on by the crowd, and it looks almost like the movie thinks her endless greed for glory and fame did this to her. Like this is her own fault, she destroyed the body she had in pursuit of eternal approval and gratification of a cheering crowd. I was looking at this like, who was this made for? Nothing about this clicks, is this for people obsessed with their own fame? Is this just a made up idea of what the world looks like for women who are trying to be famous? Because it wasn't clicking with any reality I was aware of.
We've listened to women going trough fame and popularity, and we know what these stories entail. First half of it is being introduced to it too young, forced into it by their parents or guardians, being overworked, missing on childhoods and schooling and family time, not getting enough sleep or rest, being pushed into substance abuse just to get trough the day. And then, endless sexualizing, endless situations where they're in the presence of predators and unprotected. The industry ruthlessly rejecting their personality and forcing them to mold into whatever the public wants, or the producer wants, having their identity crashing with the public opinion of them. Lack of privacy, lack of safety being outside, getting harassed and crowded on the street, not being allowed to live a normal life. Having body issues due to being forced to focus on how you look, because you're under constant scrutiny and now your job depends on how your body looks like, developing mental disorders due to lack of control over your life, and due to control you have to have over your every action. Having your opinions and wants dismissed because your word doesn't count in the industry when you're a woman, being forced to hide what people have done to you in private, often suffering sexual abuse and being forced to keep quiet if you want to keep your job. Breakdowns, suicidal thoughts, both fearing to lose relevancy and wanting out of the industry for your mental health, but it's all you've known and you don't know how to function otherwise. Getting jaded, realizing your own value drops with age, learning to despise everyone who took advantage of you and dropped you the second you weren't making them enough money. Being sick and tired of males talking down to you and dismissing your humanity. Not knowing where to turn for understanding and safety, because the charade has to keep on going in order for the industry to go on.
This is what I would expect a woman in the industry to have learned after being put trough all that, and instead the main character was so void of any backstory, any real experiences, any thoughts or criticism about it, any anger or bitterness about the abuse she'd have suffered in there, and was sorely upset about her lack of job security and that she was no longer looking like a commercial. She would have learned from this, that this is an inherently insecure job industry, it's not worth being in it, but she doesn't seem to learn this. She isn't even angry they hired someone else without telling her. All of her anger was directed towards herself. And the movie was not challenging it. It was saying 'yes, it is your own fault, both for aging, and for wanting not to age. Look what you did.'
And by the end of the movie, she was just the same as the beginning, still just longing for the fame and cheers. She is a character who is not allowed to learn from her experiences, in fact seems to have no experiences, even of the things that happened to her in the movie. She cared for nothing but male validation. She only seemed to care about the younger body for the sake of this validation. Even at the very end when she was killed by the same males who she gave everything to impress for, she wasn't mad at them. She just wanted more validation from them.
And I'm watching this thinking, this must be whats inside of a male brain. He did that because thats how he would act in this situation. Males are incapable of learning from experience, so they assume women are too. Males think that having a body of a young female in their posession would resolve all of their needs and desires, so they think for a woman that would work too, in fact that she would destroy herself to get there. The creepy male fantasy of what a woman would do. It was done to validate their dumb opinions.
One thing I was surprised with was the road not taken in this movie, because it had a lot of potential symbolism! The younger woman exiting the woman's body, was reminiscent of birth. When I noticed it's a different acctress, I thought maybe we were making a parallel of mothers and daughters. Because it's a thing that happens sometimes; women with daughters will look at the daughter and feel she is a prettier, younger version of themselves. It reminds them of their own potential when they were just children, before their lives got decided by marriage and male ownership. And when daughters start receiving male attention, due to the flock of predators always creeping by, mothers will sometimes forget that this is a child bonded and dependant on them, who is now in danger, and instead get jealous, and want that attention for themselves. They'll try to vicariously live trough their daughters, get themselves into the spotlight, or win attention of the males attracted to the child. It's a horrifying event each time, I was reminded by it while watching the movie, seeing how angry the woman was at the younger counterpart for partying, being on tv, being in the spotlight that was now unreachable for her. But the movie ignored this cruel reality as well.
The movie's conclusion is just 'this is somehow the woman's fault', while trying to be a movie about the pressure of the tv industry on women to not age. The pressure is real and experienced by all women, so the movie could have been about analyzing the source of it, showing us the other side of it, how dehumanizing and cruel the males are benefiting from this, how it makes absolutely no sense to cater to them or to care about what they think of female age and appearance. It could have been about male selfishness, greed, pedophilia and predatory nature, it could have pointed us in the horrifying direction of women sacrificing so much of their health and life only for males to have financial benefit and sexual gratification from it. It could have depicted how hard work of women is unappreciated and only rewarded with further abuse.
Instead it focused on pulling women inside out to make horror of their bodies, and depicted teenagers as the ultimate goals for anyone. I think that's where I experienced the most horror, seeing the younger version being dehumanized and depicted as a sexual dream, her every private action looking like a commercial, making her into a reduced non-human robot that only acts the way males think women should. And the woman who actually looked like an adult, was not allowed to learn, criticize, or long for anything except male validation, another fantasy that is as far removed from reality as possible.
#the substance#feminist analysis#radfem analysis#movies and tv#holywood#failed movie#explored male fantasies instead of female realities#took agency and critical thinking away from women and put it in male hands#gross movie
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[Resident Evil Village] Donna Beneviento x Female Reader - "Attached"
[Requested]
Summary: Donna gradually manages to get used to how affectionate you can be. So much so that she starts to initiate forms of affection herself.
Word Count: 7.29k Content + Warnings: Slightly OOC Donna (and possibly Alcina), talks of insecurity and loneliness, language (?), brief allusions to sex
- - - - [Masterlist] - - - -
[A/N]: I got a little carried away with some of the dialogue. This was just fun to write, honestly. I couldn't think of a good way to write the ending, so the pacing might seem a bit off. Also, I'm trying out a new banner for my stories, but I'm not sure if I'll keep it.
Enjoy!
Affection wasn’t something that was necessarily common in the Beneviento household. Even with her dolls there to keep her company over the years, Donna very seldom found herself being comforted by their small embraces, subconsciously reminding herself that they weren’t doing it of their own accord. Being reminded constantly of the fact she was in control of every action each doll made, she never truly felt as though there was love in them.
It had been so long since her parents had been around, and even though she was taken in under Miranda’s supposed care, not once in her lifetime did the priestess show her the affection, nor the approval, she had been desperately craving.
All throughout the rest of her childhood, adolescence, and most of her adulthood, Donna found herself alone. Even when she was surrounded by her “family” during meetings and other events, she could never seem to truly rid herself of the feeling of loneliness. She had convinced herself with time that she would be fine all alone – she deserved it, and it would be better for everyone anyway. As a result, she hardly ever left her home unless someone forced her to or if she had to visit the Duke for new supplies.
She grew accustomed to the silence in that cold manor, every unexpected sound causing her to panic until it passed. Improvising unfamiliar acts of affection was difficult to do on her own, which ultimately led her to create new dolls that were more mannequin-like that she could cradle or lean against when she felt particularly lonely. Some mannequins were designed specifically to be able to hold her close, and although she was immune to the effects of the pollen she used to cause hallucinations, she still managed to find a way to force a heartbeat and breathing that wasn’t there in order to bring herself some deluded sense of comfort.
Often, she ended up falling asleep cradled in the wooden arms of her creations, usually in the den on the couch, or on the sofa in the study during the middle of a movie. It was a rare occurrence for her to sleep in her own bed. It was too painful most nights to roll over and see the empty side of the bed, cold and lacking anyone there for her to wake up to in the morning. Most nights, she wouldn’t let herself sleep until she physically couldn’t stay awake any longer.
Because of all of this, her twenties dragged on for an eternity.
Once she realized just how alone her younger sister was once she reached her early thirties, Alcina took it upon herself to send one of her best maids to the Beneviento household to provide her both with help around the house and some much needed company.
She hadn’t given any warning, only sent the poor girl out to the grounds in a carriage with a few other trusted servants to ensure she made it safely. Had she been sent to walk there instead, Donna would’ve taken notice immediately and likely killed the young woman. However, she recognized her sister’s carriage instantly and stopped herself from reacting too harshly. She answered the door herself when a knock echoed down the halls, assuming it was either Alcina herself or her daughters.
Frozen immediately at the sight of a stranger standing there at her doorstep, Donna found it impossible to speak. When you bowed your head and explained your situation, the Lady subtly motioned for Angie to answer for her, screaming at you, the stranger, and asking why there was no warning of your sudden appearance.
“Oh, my apologies, Lady Beneviento. I had assumed Lady Dimitrescu had called or sent a letter prior to my arrival. I hope I’m not intruding on anything important,” you had whispered, your voice so gentle and sincere that Donna couldn’t find it in herself to be entirely angry with you. ‘It wasn’t the poor girl’s fault,’ after all, it was Alcina’s, and she made a mental note to call her later and give her a piece of her mind.
Wordlessly, Donna lifted her hand as a gesture to stop talking, one in which you obeyed immediately. “You silly girl,” Angie screeched, laughing almost maniacally as she clambered to your legs and climbed to your shoulders. “You worked for the Big Hat Lady, didn’t you? Why would she send you here? Were you too useless around her crusty, old, gigantic castle?”
“Oh, no,” you answered with a small laugh, puzzling Donna on how calm you seemed to be. She reminded herself that you had probably seen far worse and more bizarre things while under Alcina’s reign. A talking doll was surely something unordinary, though there were deeper horrors out there that outweighed even the pure discomfort Angie brought to others.
“Nothing like that. I assure you I do my best.” Donna hummed, disinterested and unamused. Still, you continued. “If I’m being completely honest, I’m not entirely sure why she sent me here, but I’m sure she has a good reason. I was honestly hoping I would be able to ask if you knew why, but… well, it seems we’re both at a loss.”
You seemed so casual about everything: you weren’t uncomfortable standing in front of possibly the most feared Lord in the village, you didn’t seem scared or startled when Angie came bounding around the corner, and you weren’t trembling even a little bit under the unsettling views that surrounded you. As annoyed as she was with this sudden intrusion, Donna had to admit she was still a little intrigued by you.
Perhaps some good would come from your stay after all. It would certainly be a nice change to have more time to herself outside of her projects. If someone was there to help take care of the cleaning and organizing, she would have more peace. More effort could be put into her dolls, she would be able to spend more time reading and researching, and she wouldn’t be alone. Regardless of knowing she likely wouldn’t be able to bring herself to talk directly to you, it was still a comforting thought to know there would be someone there – someone she couldn’t control, but someone she could instead rely on to make things lighter on her shoulders.
A moment passed before she sighed, stepping aside and welcoming you almost unwillingly into her estate.
“Thank you, my Lady,” you murmured with another charming smile, lifting your suitcases and carrying them inside. Once the front door was closed, Donna turned to find you standing there, patiently waiting for your first order. “I’ll show you to your room,” Angie announced, still perched on your shoulders. Without getting down, she grabbed ahold of your sleeves and began yanking them in the direction she wanted you to go.
Biting back a small snicker at her motions, you followed her demands and made your way to the stairs, still clutching your bags in your hands. Donna watched until you disappeared into the guest room that used to be her bedroom as a child. She didn’t know you entirely – only caught glimpses of you occasionally during her visits to the castle – though she still hoped that old room would be suitable and you would find it comfortable here. Using Angie distracting you to her advantage, she made her way to the lift and lowered herself to the basement, where she found her landline and dialed her sister’s phone number with a practiced motion.
Two rings before Alcina picked up, and it seemed she already knew who had called.
“Donna, darling, before you start lecturing me, will you give me a chance to explain myself?” Snarling through her words, Donna agreed to stay silent and listen. “Yes, but it better be a good reason. You know very well how I feel about strangers.”
“I know you aren’t fond of new people, but I can assure you I sent that girl with the best intentions in mind. She’s one of my best maids: kind, obedient, very level-headed. I figured she would be a good fit for you. I–” “Scusi?” Donna interrupted, on the verge of hollering. “Oddio mio! Fai sempre quello che vuoi, ed è esasperante!” Before she could continue with her verbal tirade, her eldest sister interrupted once again, prompting her blood to boil further. “Donna, please listen to me, dear,” her voice was almost strained.
A small slipped past Lady Dimitrescu’s lips, almost silent from the other side of the phone. Donna could picture her pinching the bridge of her nose as she spoke – could see her brows furrowing and causing her skin to crease in disdain. “I promise you I will explain myself, but you must listen to the entirety of what I have to say.”
“Make it quick. If there’s no viable reason for that girl to be here, I will send her back immediately.”
“I’m explaining my reasons, if you’ll be patient with me for just a moment.”
When silence fell between them, Alcina took it as a sign of the doll-maker’s reluctant compliance. “I noticed over the years that you’ve been lacking any sort of assistance down in that manor of yours, amongst other things. I know you won’t enjoy hearing it, but you’re alone, Donna, terribly alone. Anyone can see it, that’s how painfully obvious it is. That can lead to horrible tricks from the mind. You shouldn’t have to do everything by yourself. Some company would do you good, even if it’s just a maid there to help keep things tidy. I worry about you, truly, but there’s so little I’m able to do for you if you won’t accept the help I give you.
“That’s why I’m asking you to give this arrangement a chance. A month, at most. If you still aren’t satisfied or comfortable with her being there with you by then, I will send for her return, but I would appreciate it if you tried.”
“Alcina–” Donna started, grunting in distrust.
“Only for a month. I’m in no way suggesting you try to court this girl or even grow close to her. Just be cordial so you’ll have someone there with you that you can rely on at any given moment. She’s kind, patient, and respectful of any person, which is why I assumed she would be a good fit for you. She won’t step over your boundaries or interfere with anything you’re struggling with unless you ask her to. Please, whether you’re ready or not, give her a chance.”
A brief moment passed where Donna could only part her lips, though no words would come forward. She wanted desperately to protest against what her sister had essentially thrown on her so unexpectedly, though some part of her – the loneliest part, she knew – wanted to have someone here with her. Her sister trusted you, and you hadn’t caused any trouble that resulted in reprimand while you were still under her care, so there was a chance you wouldn’t be a nuisance the way she thought just a moment before.
Her mind wandered without her realizing it, filling itself with every potential way of what could go wrong. Silently, she was grateful that the familiar, comforting voice of her sister filled the space once more. “Donna, dear? Are you willing to give her the opportunity to stay with you? I only ask a month of your patience on her behalf.”
“You promise you’ll have her leave if I’m not satisfied with her company by the end of the next month?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Cazzo,” she whispered under her breath, tilting her head away from the phone to hide her words further. Suppressing a small groan, Donna nodded her head, though she knew her sister couldn’t see her. “Fine, she has one month. Be prepared to have one of your carriages sent here by then.” A soft, satisfied hum escaped Alcina’s lips in response. “I’ll have one prepared in case things go awry, but I assure you that you’ll enjoy her company. I hardly wanted her to leave myself, which is why I’m entirely confident that the only reason I’ll need to see her again is when my daughters and I come to visit during the summer months. They’ll be thrilled to see her again either way.”
“If we’re done with this conversation, I’ll have to hang up. Since there was no warning that this girl would be showing up on my doorstep, I’ve made no plans on what she’s to do around here. I’ll have to come up with a few things as I go.” “Yes, I understand. I’ll call you again next month to check in and see how things are going. Does that sound alright with you?”
“Yes. Goodbye, Alcina.”
“Thank you, Donna,” was her only reply before Donna placed the phone down, refraining every part of herself that wanted to shatter it and toss the remains far away.
Just above, she winced at still being able to hear the shrillness in Angie’s voice, and she knew she’d have to join you and the mouthy doll soon enough. To give herself a moment to breathe and steel her nerves, she took the time to straighten out her veil and suck in a deep breath. It took more effort than she would’ve liked to admit to force her legs to carry her back to the lift and not collapse beneath her as she stepped inside, turning hesitantly to tap the arrow and send herself back to the main floor.
When she arrived, Angie was already making her way to the elevator door, cackling as she tugged your hand so you’d follow her. “Donna, the silly girl told me she knows how to play piano! Isn’t that great? Now you’ll have someone else to sit with you and keep you company while you make new friends!” Scowling down at the doll, Donna shook her head, though she didn’t have a chance to speak before you did.
“Angie,” you started, chuckling at the doll’s antics, “I don’t want to impose on anything. I’m sure she’d prefer your company over mine. She seems far more comfortable with you.” Somehow, in the short amount of time you had been left alone with her, you had managed to get on Angie’s good side, which was made evident when you crouched down and lifted the doll into your arms. A smile painted your lips, even as you looked back at Donna.
“Now that you’re back, I was wondering what you’d like me to do around the house. I’m willing to do whatever you need.” Taking some time to think of what needed to be done, Donna made a small motion with her hand, silently asking you to follow her back into the small study. Angie, once you were close enough to the sofa, leaped out of your arms and landed on one of the cushions, excitedly bouncing up and down and causing you to chuckle again.
The Lady sauntered to the desk tucked on the far wall and slid the top drawer open. Her hand dipped into the small drawer and plucked a sheet of paper from a stack, as well as a pen, which she then placed onto the surface of the desk, pushing the drawer until it closed. As you wandered over to join her, she scribbled out a list of chores for you to do, adding a small note at the base of the sheet. When she turned and handed it to you, your eyes immediately scanned over her neat handwriting, specifically the words formed at the bottom. ‘Under no circumstances will you go to the basement.’
She stayed there, standing rigid as a board and staring at you expectantly. “Thank you, my Lady,” you suddenly blurted, that gleeful smile never faltering. Surprised, she blinked. She had partially expected you to question why the basement was off limits, then reminded herself yet again of all you had likely witnessed at her sister’s. “I’ll get started right away. Angie,” some part of her felt disheartened when you turned away to plant your focus back on the small doll still hopping on the sofa.
“Will you be keeping Lady Beneviento company?” From behind her veil, Donna’s eye shot over to Angie, awaiting her answer. “Nah,” the small doll replied, stilling her movements on the cushion and making a dismissive motion with her hand. “I’ve got to make sure you do everything right, after all! Besides, Donna has her other friends to keep her company.” “Other friends?” “The other dolls, silly girl!”
“Oh, I see. I’ll have to meet them sometime.” Donna couldn’t resist clenching her jaw tightly at your words. “Are you mocking her?” Angie accused, now speaking for Donna as she crossed her arms. “No, of course not,” you answered truthfully. It didn’t seem you noticed how thick the tension had grown. If you had, you certainly didn't pay it any mind. “Dolls can be friends. I’d be happy to meet them someday, if you’d allow me to, my Lady.” You turned to her again, and she couldn’t help but fall motionless at the sincerity in your eyes.
You truly weren’t mocking her.
There was no hint of judgment or sarcasm in your tone, nor did it seem like you were saying it out of duress. You were being honest.
Unsure of how to respond, she could only offer you a simple nod, one that would’ve gone unnoticed if you hadn’t been staring directly at her.
Again, you smiled at her without a shred of fear, another gesture she would have to grow used to.
“I’ll get started now. Is there anything specific you’d like me to prepare for dinner?” At that, Angie shook her head rapidly. “No, no, Donna will cook, not you!” A little puzzled, you looked over at the doll-maker yet again. “Would you prefer to cook?” Another wordless nod was sent your way. “Okay, well… in that case, I’m excited to see what you’ll make.”
Then you left the room, still cradling Angie in your arms and entertaining her endless banter. With the list clasped in your hand, you began working around the house, cleaning, tidying, and organizing everything you were instructed to. By the time dinner was served, it was clear you were exhausted, though you made no comment on it. Instead, you were given a plate of one of Donna’s favorite dishes to prepare, left to eat it on your own accord in the dining room.
Donna, still adjusting to the idea of having someone else in the house with her, insisted she’d eat alone in her workshop down in the basement, which was still off limits to you.
Angie was there to keep you company and let Donna know what was happening. The doll-maker couldn’t bite back her prideful grin when you raved about how delicious her cooking was, cleaning your plate off in record time. You were visibly relieved and excited when you learned that she would be cooking every meal herself.
This routine continued over the next month. You’d be given a new list of chores to do for the day, meet briefly with Donna in the kitchen until breakfast, lunch, or dinner was ready, eat alone in the dining room, then carry on with your duties until you were finished. A few days in, Donna had taken notice of how quickly you managed to complete your given tasks, watching with curiosity as you tried to create ways to entertain yourself.
Angie wasn’t always there with you to keep you company, so you had to find new things to do on your own without overstepping your bounds. It didn’t take long before Donna gave you free reign of everywhere but the basement. You were allowed to pick any book you could find throughout the house, could prepare your own snacks in the kitchen, could watch a film if you desired, you were allowed to do pretty much anything once you were finished working for the day.
Donna had forgotten about her scheduled call with Alcina, hardly even giving it a second thought at first when she heard her sister’s voice over the phone. “Donna, dear, how have things been?” Humming, the doll-maker shrugged to herself. “Things have been good here. How are things with you?” “I’m doing well, thank you.”
A long, drawn out silence followed, one in which Donna grew increasingly confused. Finally, Alcina cleared her throat, audibly expectant of something specific from her younger sister. “Well? Do I need to send for her?”
“Hm? Send for who?”
An exasperated sigh greeted her. “The girl, Donna. The maid I sent to you a month ago?”
“Oh, yes, of course. Her.”
“Do I need to send for her?”
She paused, staring blankly at the ground. Off and on throughout the weeks, she had been preparing herself to scold her sister for even having the idea in the first place. She thought of the few choice words she would sneer at her as she snarled out her demands to make you leave at once. The entirety of the past month had been expected to be a living hell, though after she thought to herself for a moment, she realized that hadn’t been the reality at all.
You had been incredibly helpful, never failing to be courteous and respectful with the special charm only you seemed to have. The manor had never been so clean, not even when Donna was a child and still had her parents to help out around the house. No matter how strenuous it was, you ensured you’d clean every part of each room from top to bottom, never missing a spot.
Angie had grown to like you on top of everything, which was a hard goal to achieve. Not once had you treated the doll unfairly. You always joined in on her tea parties, kept her company when Donna needed to be alone, cracked jokes without scolding her for her unruly sense of humor, and overall treated her kindly.
Kind. That’s what you were.
Even towards Donna herself, you never seemed to hold any sense of resentment or disregard for her comfort or security. You’d learned to read her body language alone to know if she was in the mood for chatting, and even on the rare occurrence where she voiced her own thoughts without using Angie, you didn’t pressure her to say more when she fell silent. There was an understanding, it seemed, one that didn’t need to be pointed out to know it was shared.
She was insecure, that much was obvious. Still, you were as patient with her as you were with Angie, and that was something she’d never be able to understand. She was appreciative of how you treated her – seeing her as who she is rather than fearing her every move. In the beginning, she had grown nauseated at the idea of someone convincing you to leave her each time you left to retrieve supplies from the village.
She didn’t understand why she was so anxious over the possibility of you leaving because of her. After all, she was the one who had been on the verge of begging Alcina to take you away. It seemed you had grown on her in such a short amount of time. It was a hard thing to admit to herself, especially as she stood in that hallway on the phone, but she liked you. She enjoyed your company, regardless of the fact she rarely had the courage to speak with you on her own.
She didn’t want you to leave. She couldn’t let you.
“Donna?”
Forcing a small shaky breath to steady herself, Donna was brought back to the present at the sound of her sister’s voice. “No, you won’t need to send for her.”
Alcina chuckled on the other side of the line. “I told you you’d enjoy her company. She’s quite a sweet girl, isn’t she?”
“Sweet, yes. She’s very kind, even to Angie,” Donna murmured, ensuring her voice lowered itself for the last comment. Another gentle laugh greeted her ear. “Well, take good care of her for me, will you? She’s very dear to my daughters, as well as myself. It will be quite a hard task to find a maid as valued as her.” A soft smile graced the doll-maker’s lips. It was rather calming to know her sister thought so highly of you. It lowered the chance of you somehow ending up hurt if you ever joined her on a trip to the castle.
“I promise you she’ll be happy here,” was her reply, voice thick with reassurance and sincerity.
And she kept true to her word, constantly finding new ways to keep you content and even opening herself up to you. It surely took time, however. You hadn’t been given the opportunity to see her face uncovered until you had already lived there for two years. She had led you into her workshop in the basement, requesting for you to tidy things up after she had realized she had neglected the cleanliness of the room for too long.
As you cleaned, Donna returned to her projects, propping up a doll and a few pieces of cloth. A small notebook laid beside the doll, filled with different measurements she’d need for its clothing. It only took a few minutes before you heard her cursing under her breath. When you turned from the desk you had been dusting, you found her holding the notebook almost taut against her veiled face, clearly struggling to read what she had written.
“Lady Beneviento, are you alright?” You had asked, cautiously moving to stand beside the table she was standing at. Her head perked up, turning to you as if she hadn’t realized she had spoken aloud. “Yes,” she stammered, glancing back down at the small notepad, “I’m just used to putting my veil away while I work here. It’s why I haven’t let you down here with me before. I’m afraid I can’t see my writing very well with it on.” A nod was your reply, though you eventually moved to tidy up the desk again.
“Well,” you started, turning away, “you’re still free to take your veil off, of course. Please don’t let my presence here with you stop you from working comfortably.” She shook her head, more to herself than you. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. I’d only scare you away with the hideous monstrosity I hide.” “I can assure you, my Lady, you won’t scare me. I’ve seen horrendous things both in Lady Dimitrescu’s and Lord Moreau’s domains. Besides, if you’re anything like your portrait by the stairs, I highly doubt you have a hideous monstrosity hidden away beneath that veil. You must be just as beautiful.”
Although she stood dumbfounded at your blunt choice of words for what felt like an eternity, you were soon greeted with a scoff. “You’re a fool to believe such a thing. You know nothing of me.” You turned to her then. Seeing the look of pure confusion and what seemed like betrayal contorting your features nearly made her regret her words instantly. “But… Lady Beneviento, I do know you. These past two years–”
“Stai zitto.”
Your small journey to return to her side was cut short at her harsh tone. Such a plain-spoken phrase, laced purely with a concoction of venom and insecurity. You couldn’t bring yourself to move any closer. “All you know of who I am has come solely from those wretched villagers who smear my name through the mud at every given opportunity. They’ve painted a portrait of me, and it’s been glazed over time and time again with their harsh judgment. That portrait is not me, nor is the one you claim to find beautiful.”
Her breathing grew ragged as she spoke, voice leaping in volume as she recalled every rumor that found its way floating through the village like a fog. A short moment passed before she had to drop the notebook onto the table. Her hands were shaking far too violently for her to hold it comfortably.
“Cazzo,” she hissed, clutching at her palms and squeezing them tightly together in a futile attempt to steady them. Finally regaining your courage, you stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder only for it to be slapped away. “Non toccarmi!” With your hands held up in surrender, you allowed yourself a brief moment to choose your words carefully. “Please, my Lady, listen to me.”
A mocking laugh met your words, Donna now turned to you with her arms crossed. You could see how her nails dug into her sleeves and skin to a painful degree. “I have no reason to listen to you,” she retorted coldly. “I know that, my Lady, but I’m only asking for a short amount of your time. Will you hear me out?”
Had you been able to see past her veil, you would’ve seen how her eye narrowed as it focused on you – would’ve seen her brow furrowing deeply and creasing her skin – and you would’ve seen her lips pulling themselves tightly back into a scowl. Regardless of being unable to see such things riddling her face, you could tell from her tense figure that she was truly uncomfortable. Even so, when she made no effort to decline again, you parted your lips to speak once again.
“I know you must think that I’ve followed and believed every rumor there is out in the village related to you, but I assure you I’ve never paid any mind to such unnecessary lies. I’ve seen you, and I’ve seen how you treat others, even if Angie is the one to speak for you. During my time at the castle, I was able to watch when you’d spend time with Lady Dimitrescu or her daughters. It was clear there was some tension with your sister whenever you’d speak to her about your meetings with Mother Miranda, but you always treated her kindly.
“I couldn’t understand why the other maids feared you each time you’d come to visit. I still don’t understand. You’re everything the villagers claimed you aren’t. You’re a kind soul, my Lady, and you’ve only continued to show me that with every passing day I’ve stayed here. When I grew bored after finishing my tasks for the day, you and Angie would help me find a way to entertain myself. You’ve provided me with shelter, food, security, and a type of friendship I’d never thought I’d find.” Slowly, you took her hands from her arms and cradled them in your own, watching as the pads of your thumbs grazed soothingly over the backs of her knuckles. She stiffened, though she didn’t pull away.
“I promise you that, regardless of whatever you may think is bad enough to keep hidden even in the safety of your own home, I will never judge you for who you truly are. There’s nothing you could do to make me turn away from you.” Silence became tension once again, though you weren’t sure if it was caused by your words or your close proximity to the doll-maker.
You didn’t pull away, instead standing there and waiting for any kind of reply from her, even if she were to shove you away. Surprise flooded your senses when you felt her hands finally shift in yours to comfortably squeeze them back in return. “You’re an incredibly naive woman,” she mumbled, though there was only affection in her voice. It was clear she was smiling as she spoke. You smiled back at her.
Hesitating, you wondered if it would be acceptable for you to ask her to remove her veil. As though she could hear your thoughts, she slipped her hands out from yours, lifting them to her veil and toying with the hem. When she paused, you glanced back up at her with curiosity. “Would you mind turning around for a moment?” You nodded and obeyed instantly without a word, turning on your heel and waiting patiently for her to let you turn her way again.
It only took a moment for her to shuffle a bit behind you before you were granted permission to face her. When you did, you smiled at the sight of her veil pinned partially away from her face, only revealing half of the same face you saw each day when you’d pass her portrait.
“I was right. You’re beautiful.”
You had managed to gain enough of her trust for her to reveal the healthier side of herself, though it took even longer to see that part of her consistently. Another two years flashed by. You had grown rather close to Donna, so much so that you were finally allowed to address her by her name, and she sat you down in her room one night for a talk. It was then that the whole of her veil was finally removed and set aside. Putting every bit of her trust in you in that moment, she showed you the worst part of her – the part she despised the most.
She had expected anything but the reaction you had. As she built up her courage over time, she had imagined you losing every ounce of color in your face, your skin growing clammy. She pictured you screaming or groaning in utter disgust. She even envisioned you treating her like the monster she was and running for your life, leaving her all alone again.
But you did none of those things. You smiled at her so kindly, and it was a shock to her system to see the adoration in your eyes only grow at the sight of her. “My god,” you whispered, lifting your hands and cradling her face in them without hesitation. It was impossible for her to hide the crimson reddening her face at your actions, affection still an entirely foreign concept to her. “You’re just as stunning as I figured, Donna.”
A quiet laugh escaped her as she shook her head as much as she could in your hold. “I’ll never understand how you find everything beautiful.”
Even as she protested against how genuine you were being, some part of her finally felt at ease. She had shown you her biggest vulnerability, and you were still desperate to stay by her side. Each time she took her veil off in your company, you were nothing but positive, tossing out compliment after compliment in her direction.
Soon, she could be found lingering around the house as she worked, lacking her veil on most days. She’d tug it back on if the Dimitrescus came for a visit or if she had another family meeting with Mother Miranda and her siblings, but she found it far too comfortable when she was alone with you to hide herself away. With time, her trust in you grew alongside her endearment, and it didn’t take long for her to understand what her feelings for you were. She denied them for months, but Angie eventually scolded her for being so cowardly, expressing her annoyance with seeing just how hopeless Donna was on her own.
She spent time – weeks leading to months – trying to conjure up a plan on how she could let you know of her feelings. There were so many things she wanted to try, wanting to ensure her confession was genuine and romantic.
However, none of those plans came to light. Her feelings were made known purely by chance.
You had invited her to watch a movie that Angie had picked out from the Duke’s cart. She accepted with glee, thrilled just as she always was when you made an effort to include her in your plans. With her help, you set up the film and flipped on the projector before planting yourself on the sofa and making yourself comfortable. Donna watched fondly as you bundled up underneath a soft blanket and grabbed the bowl of popcorn you and Angie had prepared ahead of time.
With a smile, she joined you on the couch, albeit leaving a few inches of space between you to avoid coming across as too bold. She let herself lean against the back of the sofa, resting her head against the cushioning with a content sigh as her gaze focused forward on the film. As the movie progressed, you shared a few words with her, though – much to Angie’s dismay – it quickly turned into playful banter, something that had become a common occurrence.
Already knowing where things were headed, Angie snuck out of the room without notice. At one point, Donna moved closer with one of her teasing remarks, her hand sliding to you and resting on your hip without much thought. You didn’t refuse her touch, nor did you seem uncomfortable. You seemed rather inviting with her affection. You made it clear that you didn’t mind when you pulled her into your arms and practically cocooned her with the blanket.
She yelped in surprise at first, but you both burst into fits of giggles immediately after. Her laughter settled before yours, and she was left to gaze up at you, eye stricken with so much love that she was sure you could see hearts in it. Her smile was warm when you calmed yourself and stared back down at her. Curiosity sparked in her for a moment, wondering if you could feel her heart hammering heavily against her ribs as clearly as she could hear it in her ears, though it was diminished and replaced with the all-too-familiar feeling of need and desperation.
No other words had to be shared, she knew. It was clear from the small gleam in your eyes that you were needing her just as badly as she needed you in that moment. Surprisingly keeping her composure, Donna leaned up until she hovered above you, leaving you to feel her breath on your lips as they brushed against hers. One look back at you let her know everything was okay, and she finally allowed herself to close the gap, sighing in satisfaction at the feeling of being so close to you.
Every urge and ounce of desperation for intimacy that had built up over the years finally melted away peacefully that night and was instead replaced by the love that swelled up in her heart. As you laid in her arms, head resting against her bare chest as you slowly caught your breath again, she tilted her head down and pressed another feather-like kiss to the top of your head. When you turned to look up at her, she smiled.
“I love you.”
The next several days that followed, those three words were shared between you and Donna on a near-constant basis. They were heard so frequently that Angie insisted she carry a blanket or pillow around to cover her ears with, whining each time you or the doll-maker made a flirty or corny comment to the other. Donna had essentially attached herself to your side, always wanting to be where you were and vice versa. When you’d end up alone in a separate room, it wouldn’t take long for her to find you and join you in whatever you were doing.
A week after her confession, she’d unwillingly headed off to another family meeting. You had to convince her that morning to get up for the day. She clung to you in bed, groaning and whining anytime you tried to pull away, until you ultimately managed to wake her up properly with the promises of those kisses she adored so much. Reluctantly, she got dressed after a quick shower and wandered downstairs with you, where you peppered her face in kisses before helping her put her veil on, watching with a smile as Angie hopped into her arms once she made it to the front door.
You waved goodbye to her as she left, then returned to bed to rest for a while longer. After waking up only a couple of hours later, you trudged to the lift, then across the house until you made it into the kitchen, which only caused your stomach to growl loudly in anticipation. Rummaging through the cabinets and pantry resulted in you finding a small box of pasta and several herbs and spices to add to it. It didn’t take long to collect everything you needed before you found yourself standing by the stove, chopping up your chosen ingredients with a practiced ease.
After accumulating everything onto the small cutting board, you shifted carefully to the stovetop, where you then began scraping the chopped up herbs into the pot of boiling water, then placed the board to the side as you grabbed the spices and sprinkled them in.
Shortly after setting the pasta into the pot, you heard the front door open and shut. Immediately after, Angie’s quick footsteps echoed throughout the house until they eventually vanished upstairs. You hummed and smiled to yourself. She was most likely looking for you. “Tesoro?” Donna’s voice called out gently, helping you realize she was still by the front door. Heavier but slower footsteps were heard rounding the corner and nearing the entrance to the kitchen, ones in which you recognized right away. You turned to look at her when she walked in, smiling gleefully when you saw her veil had already been removed, fully allowing you to see how her eye lit up and her lips tugged upwards into a smile at the sight of you.
“Hey,” you whispered, voice still thick with fatigue. “You’re home.” She nodded, sauntering to stand behind you and plant her hands firmly on your hips, leaning forward to let her lips graze over the side of your neck. “I missed you,” she murmured against your skin, smiling when you chuckled. “You were only gone for a couple of hours.” “Yes, but I wasn’t exactly thrilled to leave this morning, if you recall. Those damned meetings are never useful anyway. I’m not sure why Mother Miranda insists we have them. It always just ends with Alcina and Karl arguing.”
Humming in thought, you slipped your hands down to rest on top of hers, briefly lifting one to peck the backs of her knuckles before lowering it to rest on your hip again. “Well, it’s over now, so you can relax again. You’re home.”
A sigh slipped past her lips as she moved to pull you back until you rested comfortably against her front, allowing her to wrap her arms around you properly. Again, her face returned to hide in the comfort of your skin, her lips pressed gently against your shoulder. Far before you ever arrived at her home, she had gone to countless family meetings, all of which ended the same: returning to the manor with a throbbing headache that she would have to deal with all alone.
She supposed she owed thanks to her older sister for introducing you into her life. Next time, she promised herself, she would tell her how grateful she was, but for now, she only wanted to cradle you in her arms and let all the stress and tension from the day melt away. You were the very thing that made this place a home – you were her home. Never again would she have to worry about isolation, nor would she dread returning to the estate each time she left, the cold, empty silence a long-forgotten memory now that she had you.
Humming, she hid herself further against you, allowing her eye to fall shut as she took in everything about you that never failed to bring her comfort and peace. She nodded.
“Yes. Now that I have you in my arms again, I am.”
Thanks for the all of the support, by the way!
Started on: November 7th, 2024 Finished on: November 18th, 2024
#x reader#female reader#fluff#slight angst#resident evil village#resident evil#heavy fluff#donna and angie#donna beneviento x y/n#donna beneviento x female reader#re8 donna#donna beneviento x reader
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hi ice! im sorry that you're dealing with other stresses, please don't feel any pressure to answer this quickly or anything.
im wondering if you have any advice for a Black person overcoming a lot of internalized anti-Blackness? especially pertaining to feeling like a disappointment specifically for being Black (i struggle with feeling like i will ever be attractive to a partner because of it, even if theyre also Black), and presenting in a way that makes me happy (i want to grow out an afro but i get afraid of looking "too Black", same with wearing my durag and similar things). also are there any books that you would recommend for working through that, or even just learning about Black history (reading often helps me to logic myself out of negative thought patterns and feel inspired)?
thank you! sorry if this ask is too complicated/encompasses too much
Hi! Well first, I am sorry that you've lived a life and in a world that reinforces you to hate yourself. You do not deserve that, and I'm proud of you for asking for more, and I hope you one day live a life where you love yourself and recognize how much you deserve.
If it's okay, in addition to some resources, I could give you some pointers that I gained from my own life experience unlearning internalized antiblackness. It's not an easy or short process, and there's plenty of hard truths and happy truths. I am not the sweetest advice giver either, but I promise I mean well:
1. Release the Shackles of Respectability Politics!
I was already starting to really grow into my Black identity by undergrad (my family had at least tried to help me get there through my childhood) but what really cinched it for me was the state murder of Sandra Bland. Sandra Bland was everything "right"- multiple degrees, pretty, educated, in a historically Black sorority, a college educator, a woman who spoke up for justice. Respected in her community! She was everything I thought I was supposed to be!
And the police still captured her, beat her, and murdered her in her jail cell (and lied about it, and potentially posted a picture of her dead body as her mugshot) for the audacity to question them. She's still dead! She still wasn't "good" enough to live!
No amount of being a "good, well-behaved" Black will save you in a society where being Black itself is deemed a sin. So every time you get a thought where "this isn't what society wants" or "I'm embarrassed" or "if I do this, I'll look like a bad-" cut it off! Fuck em! IT'S NOT TRUE! Recognize that you could be the finest, richest person on the street and you'd still be just a n***a in many people's eyes. 🤷🏾♀️ Point blank. They don't like you for your racial identity. They can be racist to Barack Obama and Beyonce, and they sure can be racist to you lmao.
It's not about you, you are not the problem! James Baldwin himself once said that racism is the white man's problem. It's not your responsibility to make them "like" you and "not be disappointed", it's their responsibility to respect you as a human being regardless!
2. Take Back Your Autonomy
This ties into the first one. Let's all thank Lil Nas X for this one, bc he did for my bisexuality what I had to do on my own for my Blackness. 🙏🏾
If they hate you anyway, you might as well be your most authentic self 🤷🏾♀️
Don't die disappointed because you wanted to reach white acceptance. Don't do it. If they're gonna hate you suppressed, they might as well hate you out loud 🤷🏾♀️ it's your life! It's why I don't shut up about racism lmao. You already hated me, now we'll both be uncomfortable and imma speak 🤷🏾♀️
So when you wear that durag, or wear your afro, recognize that 1) there are people just like you who love how you look because you look like them, 2) you should love how you look period because you're who matters, and 3) the day I receive a check with an undisclosed amount of reparations on it is the day I'll sit and discuss allowing whiteness to designate how the fuck I'm suppose to wear my hair lmao (and the answer will still be no). 😤
3. Accept that you're worth it
It's going to be hard. Even by wearing your afro, your own natural hair, you are making a statement of pride in your Blackness, and everyone won't understand or respect that. That was one of my first steps in high school, was cutting off all my permed hair and loving my afro. I had to write affirmations that I read daily to love myself, I was so scared. But it was worth it. My hair is healthy and happy. I had to learn brown skin was beautiful. But once I did, I couldn't stop fawning over it, on myself and others.
There are people who live their lives told by society they are perfect. Why do they get to think they're beautiful, and you don't? They're not better than you, yet they can tell you that you should hate yourself. What gives them the right? Who do they think they are? Fight back! Accept that the fight is hard, but you're worth it! Your Blackness is beautiful, and it fought hard as fuck to make it this far- honor that by honoring yourself!
4. Find some community; dive deep into Blackness
This one is self explanatory. You're gonna have to be around Black people that love themselves. Surround yourself with it. Find things they do that you like. Learn to find love in it. It could be creative, political, hell even finding a hairstyles group that shows cute ways to wear your hair. That can be a way to grow more confident and try new things. (All skinfolk ain't kinfolk though, so be aware.) But being around Black people, who care about the same things you care about, and make you feel heard, will help break that... Mind space where you feel alone and wrong. Trust, if I didn't have other Black people on this site, I would go mad from people gaslighting me that the racism I was seeing wasn't real. You need some more of us around you that reinforce your love for us, and yourself.
Here is a long paper discussing internalized antiblackness; you said you like to read lol. It admittedly focuses on Black women, BUT it might also help to use the sources that they cite to go on your own journey regardless! You could also just surround yourself with bloggers and beautiful poems and Black creations. There's beauty in all of it, you gotta let yourself find it.
I hope this helps 🙏🏾
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Propaganda
Lauren Bacall (To Have and Have Not, The Big Sleep, Key Largo)—"Just put your lips together...and blow" excuse me ma'am i'm briefly going to turn into a kettle. She's the quintessential Femme Fatale who may betray me in the end but I'd let her it'd be worth it
Pearl Bailey (Carmen Jones, St. Louis Blues, Porgy and Bess)—vintage crush of all time, the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, and my GOD the PIPES! She wasn't in nearly enough movies, but every time I see her I'm aghast all over with what a gorgeous woman she was. Vote Pearl for diva glamor like no one else! (also....she was on the Muppet Show!)
This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Lauren Bacall:
"She is soooo neat. And hot. And everything. That one scene in To Have and Have Not where she says "you know how to whistle don't you? You just put your lips together and blow" altered my brain chemistry during media archaeology class and here we are."
youtube
"The VOICE, the SLINK, the EYES. Woof."
"Lauren Bacall was a major lesbian awakening for me. Every picture of her makes it look like she’s about to destroy you physically and emotionally (why is that so hot, I may need help). She had incredible long running chemistry with her husband, Humphrey Bogart, but was an absolute star in her own right. I’ll never be over my crush on her."
youtube
"She's got that confident, no-nonsense air about her. She's a boss babe who knows what she wants and gets it DONE. Staunch liberal Democrat her whole life. Campaigned for RFK. From Wikipedia: "In a 2005 interview with Larry King, Bacall described herself as "anti-Republican... A liberal. The L-word". She added that "being a liberal is the best thing on Earth you can be. You are welcoming to everyone when you're a liberal. You do not have a small mind."" Beautiful hair. Beautiful eyes. Beautiful lips. She's just beauty. LISTEN TO HER VOICE. TELL ME THAT'S NOT THE STUFF THAT DREAMS ARE MADE OF."
"HER VOICE. Like yeah, she was absolutely stunning but oh my god, I'm obsessed with her voice"
"A gorgeous lady inside and out. One half of an absolute power couple with Humphrey Bogart, tended to him and other actors suffering from malaria whilst filming the African Queen, generally radiated grace and poise throughout her life. Also her last role was in Family Guy so she needs justice for that"
"She was stunning. Tall and beautiful with a distinctive voice and able to carry her own in a male dominated field. She won the heart of millions, including one of Hollywood's most iconic leading men, Humphrey Bogart. Their story was the stuff of legends, and the chemistry between them was apparent in the multiple films they started in together. She personified the film noir dame and yet she also adapted as Hollywood changed. Her career spanned decades, and she was honored multiple times."
Pearl Bailey propaganda:
"Pearl Bailey was an absolute POWERHOUSE! She's best known for her career in music and theater (she's a DIVINE singer, and very funny). But she also did several feature films, including a controversial adaptation of Porgy and Bess (controversial because of the story; the actors were pretty much coerced into it). She's got a style all her own, you can recognize it from a mile away. She's got you chuckling and crying from one phrase to the next. I love her <3"
youtube
"Cheekbones to die for"
youtube
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Can I request a “Mr. Villain’s day off” fic..
The General x Human fem reader, who makes and sells stuffed animals in a little shop near the Zoo..
And maybe The General grew suspicious of her when he Sees “Red Ranger” practically abused her on her walk home one night, asking Reader to join the Rangers, because her family has a reputation for incredible combat skills.. and her flatly refusing, Reader even saying in a calm no shits given voice, and with a completely unbothered smile on her face.
“Well most humans are Asswholes anyway, we’ve been destroying our own planet for generations.. why is it so bad if the Evil League takes over the Earth?? They’d clearly treat the planet better than we have… I won’t fight for humanity, it’s shity.”
And then she just casually walks home..
Our lovable Mr. Villain is very interested curious about the Cute strange human woman..
So he goes to the shop she works at the next day to learn more about her.. and she’s in the middle of making the biggest.. Fluffiest.. CUTEST… stuffed Panda teddy-bear.. he’s ever seen… in that moment… he’s an absolute goner.
He’s smitten, lovestruck, infatuated.. She looks like an angel to him…. Also, he will make sure nobody but him will buy that huge stuffed Panda.. made by the loving hands of his “soon to be” beloved..
[ This is awesome, my first Mr. Villain request featuring the main man himself. Please let me know how I did, I tried to make the story interesting. I used the name "Warumono-san" because that's what I've seen other posts do. Not sure if that's correct or not. Regardless this was about 12 pages in Word, so I hope you enjoy it! As stated in the request this is a FEMALE READER INSERT. ]
You sighed before clenching your jaw and curling your hands into fists, practically feeling the steam seeping from your nostrils. This was getting old, and you were sick of Red Ranger constantly bothering you with his useless nonsense. “Aw, come on!” He whined.
“Will you shut up!?” You snapped, baring your teeth like a cornered animal. How could one human being be this damn annoying? How could he not take the thousands of hints you’ve given him!? No matter what you said or did to him, he only continued to pester.
Warumono-san smiled and looked at the plastic bag in his hand, the contents of which contained the goods he just purchased from the convenience store. Oh yes, he was eager to try the newest flavor of ice cream recommended to him by the convenience store worker.
It pained him to think that when he finally conquered Earth in the name of his mother planet and annihilated the Earthlings she would, unfortunately, perish. However, until then, he would enjoy her insights and the warmth her smile brought him whenever he walked past those double doors.
However, he stopped short when he heard yelling and turned to see two individuals standing on the opposite side of the street. His eyes widened when he recognized one of them was Red Ranger and his body tensed up. No doubt an embedded reaction because of his complicated past with the Rangers.
A sense of anger filled him, making his stomach twist. If there was one thing he hated, it was those damn Rangers who attempted to stop him at every turn from accomplishing his goal. ‘Yes…damn you Rangers!’ He frantically thought, ‘You will not stop our efforts to take over Earth!’
He was tempted, oh so tempted, to close his eyes and transform into his supervillain alias. The one with a menacing glare, cold-hearted aura, and dark clothing. ‘But tomorrow is the start of my day off,’ all at once that tension seemed to melt, and his shoulders relaxed.
As of now, it seemed that neither Red Ranger nor you noticed his presence, and so he remained spectating on the sidewalk. There was a slight concern that his ice cream would melt, but he assumed he had a couple of minutes to spare.
Red Ranger frowned, and the usual happy sparkle in his eyes all but faded. “B-but…tch…” pressing his teeth together, he couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit frustrated. He didn’t understand! Why wouldn’t you consider being part of the Rangers!?
Your family had an honorable and well-respected reputation for protecting others through perfected combat skills passed on from generation to generation. Yes, maybe you didn’t have the power the Rangers possessed, and couldn’t see the dark aura surrounding the enemy.
But it would be useful to have someone who could teach the Rangers the way of combat. His eyes moistened over causing the faint moonlight to reflect off them and a soft breeze came, ruffling his hair before he stepped forward. ‘I need to convince them to join us, whatever it takes!’ He thought before locking eyes with you.
“Why won’t you join the Rangers!?” He demanded, pressing a hand to his chest. Warumono-san’s eyes widened. ‘He wishes to recruit more Rangers!?’ The present number of Rangers was enough to deal with, how dare he try to recruit more.
‘Damn you again Rangers!’ His shoulders grew tense and his grip tightened around the plastic strap of the bag he held. ‘You and the rest of the Earthlings truly want to die!’ A growl rumbled in his throat, and he was prepared to intervene, even at the cost of allowing his precious after-work treats to melt.
He’d teach that damned Red Ranger and you a lesson. However, he paused when he heard your response, and it was so strange that it caused his lips to part and his mind to be rendered blank. What you said was unlike any response he would expect from an Earthling.
You knew that it may be unconventional and that not many would think or even say such a negative thing about their own species. But it was the truth, and it was a truth you learned the hard way. Through all the pain, suffering, and heartbreak you went through in this so-called, ‘life.’
From being forced to do things you did not wish to do, to feeling as if you had to do certain things out of guilt. It wasn’t fair! But that was the punchline of the joke. Life was not fair, and it didn’t care who it stepped on to get its way, and because of that you and everyone else unlucky enough had to suffer.
Red Ranger knit his eyebrows when he saw a smirk across your face. Placing your hands on your hips, you said, “Humanity is awful,” in a cold tone, “most of us that inhabit this planet are only killing it, and we can’t even show kindness to each other.”
His jaw dropped and his eyes widened, his pupils shaking with disbelief. “H-how can you say that Y/n?!” He demanded, curling his hands into fists. “The people here aren-” he stopped short when you held up your hand. Your eyes narrowed, and he shivered at the hateful glance now directed at him.
“What would be so bad if that Evil League you’re always talking about takes over Earth?” You demanded, taking a step toward him. “W-well, I…that’s-” he tried to come up with a reason, but you continued forward causing him to stumble back.
“They’d treat the planet better than we have. They’d probably even reverse most of the damage humans have caused!” You snapped, stomping your foot against the ground. “Ah!” Red Ranger cried out when you roughly grabbed the collar of his hoodie, forcefully pulling him down to your face.
“So, for the last fucking time,” you growled, tightening your grip. “I won’t fight for humanity. I won’t fight alongside the Rangers. Not for such a shitty planet,” you could hear him audibly swallow before he made the bold choice to wrap his fingers around your wrist.
“Don’t even think about it!” You repositioned your stance, separating your legs, and firmly pressing your feet against the ground. You already had a secure grip on his collar, and while his hand grasping your wrist may be a problem, your skills far outweighed the consequences of whatever he could do.
In one fluid motion, you pivoted and used the momentum to swing him off balance. As expected, he was caught off guard by this and the sensation of his feet lifting off the ground as he was propelled forward and over your shoulder.
Warumono-san watched the spectacle with his jaw dropped, he had never seen an Earthling cause harm to another Earthling using aggressive domination and force. He felt a sense of satisfaction wash over him when Red Ranger hit the ground and let out a painful grunt.
Silence filled the air seconds later before you towered over the man on the ground. “Idiot,” you mumbled walking past him, your steps a little heavier than normal. It was too late to be dealing with such stupidity, you needed to get home and prepare yourself for tomorrow.
After all, you had a business to run, and you couldn’t function without a proper night’s rest. “Heh,” Warumono-san clasped his chin, revealing his pointy teeth in a happy smirk. “I need to know who that Earthling is,” he concluded before his attention shifted back to Red Ranger who grunted again as he sat up.
His face twisted, and his hand rested over his stomach as if he had been punched. “W-wait…” he faintly squeaked out, reaching toward you with his other hand but you only got further and further away. However, because you were such a distance away, his attention was refocused as he suddenly sensed something nearby.
He turned, gasping when he noticed Warumono-san, and immediately panicked. He looked back at you. ‘No, I have to warn Y/n before-’ he went to get on his feet, ready to sprint down the sidewalk after you but Warumono-san cut him off.
Placing his bag of frozen treats down, a black whirlwind surrounded him as he transformed into his villainous persona. His hair now standing on end, and a menacing shadow cast over his face. A large dark cape now draped over his shoulders, weighed down by two claw-like hands.
The cape ran down his back and concealed part of a large black tail. His chest was exposed, and the strange blue-like markings that colored his waist and part of his pecs were visible. The bottom of his outfit remained the same.
He grinned and was quick to move, leaving behind a strong gust of wind that raffled the few trees embedded into the sidewalk. Their leaves rustled violently in response, and some even fell to the ground in the wake of the sudden shock of what occurred.
He grinned, amused by Red Ranger’s shocked expression. That innocence of wishing to protect another shining in his eyes, and yet regret overtook that hope. “Ah!” He cried out when Warumono-san’s hand grasped his throat and the ground underneath his feet disappeared again.
The twisted smirk on the other’s face was something he wouldn’t soon forget, and he desperately grasped onto the hand wrapped around his throat. Warumono-san realized he could have used the provided tail on his cape to render the Ranger useless.
However, there was something much more satisfying about holding the Ranger up with his bare hand. Being able to control his flow of oxygen and hear him choke as he begged for air sent a delightful tingle through his body. Yet, there was a more pressing matter at hand.
“Now Red Ranger…” he grimaced, allowing smoke to seep from his mouth as he pulled the boy closer. “Who was that Earthling?” He demanded, only to receive silence in response. Red Ranger clenched his jaw, opting to glare at Warumono-san instead of answering him.
When he picked up on this hostility, he tightened his hand around the other’s throat, momentarily cutting off his oxygen supply. Red Ranger’s grip on his wrist grew desperate, and despite feeling those nails digging into his flesh, he smirked yet again.
Yes, he enjoyed seeing his enemy struggling for oxygen. “It is clear she is not willing to side with you Rangers.” His eyes widened at Warumono-san’s words, and his jaw clenched, revealing his teeth which remained pressed together.
Was it true? Did you have no interest in protecting the Earth? Did you really want humanity to perish? No…he refused to believe it. He wanted to know what made you think that way, had you faced such unkindness that it rendered you to decide that Earth was not worth saving?
In his opinion, you weren’t a horrible person. You just needed a friend. Someone to make you believe in humanity again, and he wanted to be that person. His eyes focused on Warumono-san, taking in his happy but twisted expression. The man currently choking him wasn’t a horrible person either, although most wouldn’t believe that.
Yes, Warumono-san and the evil organization he was a part of were the Ranger’s sworn enemies, but he had seen and experienced firsthand how kind the villain could be. And if that were true…then could he not return that kindness?
Was protecting you the wrong thing to do if Warumono-san wouldn’t do harm to you? His eyes burned slightly, filling with tears that reflected the light provided by the streetlamps. When he noticed Red Ranger’s eyes moisten, a sign that he would soon cry, his grip on his throat loosened.
Red Ranger sharply inhaled, coughing slightly before he noticed himself being lowered back to the ground. “Huh?” He looked around, pressing his feet against the sidewalk a few times before looking back at Warumono-san who sighed and transformed into his civil form.
He leered at the Ranger who was now massaging his throat, a few tears slowly dripped down his cheeks as he attempted to regain his steady breathing. “Well,” Warumono-san stated, making the red-haired boy pause and look at him. He tilted his head to the side, exposing his sharp teeth, “What is that Earthling’s name?”
Red Ranger’s hands curled into fists, and once again, he debated telling the other what he knew. The internal struggle was clear on his face given his slanted eyebrows and tense posture and while Warumono-san noticed this, he didn’t care about how the Ranger felt.
An angry Earthling meant nothing to him. This, however, didn’t stop him from being caught off guard by the next set of words that left the Ranger’s mouth. “I-if I tell you…” he hesitated, and his lip quivered but he needed to say this!
“You...you have to promise not to hurt her!” He demanded, and part of him grew surprised to see the hint of humanity shine in the villain’s eyes. Silence lingered in the air, apart from the rumbling of distant traffic and the chirping of crickets and other insects.
He grasped his chin. He was uncertain why Red Ranger wished him to promise such a thing. Yes, his goal was to annihilate humanity and yes, he would feel bad for killing off certain people he had come to know. But you…well, you had struck a fancy in him.
Perhaps you’d be the first Earthling he’d spare from such a devastating fate. Pulling the corner of his lip up, he grimaced down at the Ranger. His stomach twisted with unease knowing he was about to bend to the other’s will, but if it got him the information, he so desired, it was a worthy sacrifice.
“Fine,” he replied, lowering his hand with the intent to shake Red Ranger’s. “It’s a deal,” he stated, and while he suspected the Ranger to be hesitant for him to keep his word, that suspicious stare of his didn’t lessen the feeling of annoyance.
Earthlings were indeed strange, even when you gave them your word, there was still so clearly doubt. This was unlike the people back on his home planet who would keep their word and keep themselves in good standing with others.
While his hand trembled, he managed a steady handshake with Warumono-san. However, he was struck with panic when he felt the pressure of nails against the top of his hand. “Now what is her name?” He demanded, having grown too impatient for Red Ranger’s nonsense.
“Mm,” even if he was still uncomfortable with this, he couldn’t back down now. “Her name is…Y/n,” his eyes lit up. “Y/n,” he repeated, although he wasn’t partial to complimenting or even caring about Earthling names, yours sounded so sweet on his tongue.
Red Ranger nodded. “Yes and…” he paused again, wondering if he should say any more. However, he had the other’s attention, and that grim stare only convinced him to continue speaking. “She…has a shop near the Uenono Zoo,” he stated, watching the other’s eyes light up.
He knew that Warumono-san favored the zoo, particularly the panda exhibit which explained why his eyes beamed with happiness at his words. Although he hadn’t informed the other that you made and sold stuffed animals, he assumed that would be self-explanatory. “Heh,” Warumono-san smirked, “I see.”
He planned to visit your precious little shop at his earliest convenience. He turned, his eyes settling on his bag of frozen treats that remained on the sidewalk across the street. He couldn’t help but frown knowing that they were likely melted as he wasted more time than he had anticipated dealing with Red Ranger.
“Thank you for the information,” he stated, walking across the street with his hand held up. “Huh!?” He stiffened and drew his bottom lip into his mouth, watching the villain grab his plastic bag filled with who knows what before walking down the sidewalk.
He continued to watch until Warumono-san disappeared around the corner of a building, more than likely headed home. He let out the breath he was holding but his relaxation was short-lived when he heard two distinct voices behind him.
“Wow, he’s lost again, isn’t he?” A high-pitched voice said. “Still can’t find your way around the block, Red?” He blinked and slowly turned to see Sora and Mugi. As usual they were standing close together, their hands interlocked as they looked at him with unamused expressions.
“Sora, Mugi!” He shouted, alarmed that the two were by themselves, and dropped to his knees, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. “What happened!? Why are you out here at night!?” He demanded, his eyes wavering with fear.
“We’re not alone,” Sora replied, her tone somewhat snarky. “Yeah, Blue is following us,” Mugi stated, pointing behind him. “Huh?” Red shifted his gaze to see a tall boy with bright blue hair, and equally blue eyes running up to them.
He was wearing an oversized dark-colored hoodie, with jeans and black shoes. As soon as he approached, he leaned over, placing his hands on his knees. His soft pants filled the air before he swallowed thickly and glared at the twins.
“Don’t run off like that again!” He scolded before a sigh passed his lips and he pressed his hand against his forehead. “Black would kill me if anything happened to you guys,” he stated, lowering his hand to resume glaring at the pair who responded with a pout.
Blue’s eyebrow twitched, even if he tried, he would be unable to explain just how irritated Sora and Mugi made him sometimes. He sighed again, trying to push his anger back before grabbing Sora’s hand. “Come on,” he urged, “we need to get back before Black gets mad.”
The last thing he needed was a lecture about how it was past Sora and Mugi’s bedtime. Red watched the interaction before looking in the direction Warumono-san went. ‘I hope Y/n will be okay,’ even if you continued to reject the idea of being part of the Rangers, he didn’t want you to be harmed by anyone.
“You too, Red!” Blue shouted, snapping the other out of his paranoid thoughts. “Huh!?” He turned his head back, looking at the three ahead of him. “Oh, r-right!” He replied, running to catch up to them. Maybe a good night’s sleep would suit him well and take his mind off you and Warumono-san.
However, that didn’t change what he had said before. If anything happened to you at the hands of that villain, he’d make sure he paid the price. ‘A shop near the zoo, a shop near the zoo…’ he thought as he walked past the Uenono Zoo.
His desire to see his precious pandas was high, but he had a mission to complete. ‘Yes!’ he thought, ‘Pandas must wait! Locating the Earthling, Y/n comes first!’ His eyes scanned the area. ‘A shop near the zoo, a shop near the zoo…’ he repeated before resuming walking.
Several small shops lined the street near the zoo and made him come to a halt. He tilted his head, grasping his chin in contemplation, and ignored the strange looks he got from passersby. Yet another odd set of behaviors he noticed Earthlings engage in.
What was so fascinating about his appearance that their stares remained fixated on him even as they walked away? Well, it mattered very little. He would not miss those stares when the Earth was overtaken in the name of his mother planet. A sigh passed his lips as he lowered his hand and yet again glanced along the row of shops.
There was only one logical thing to do now. “Yes!” He declared, making the Earthlings around him stop and look. ‘That is it! I must visit each shop to determine if it’s Y/n’s!’ He thought frantically, bending his knees, and raising his hands above his head, ignoring the fact he was indeed a spectacle.
‘Now,’ he straightened his posture, leering at the spectators who seemed to shudder and quickly walk away. “Heh…” he tried not to let his pride distract him as he, once again, looked at the shops. He lightly tapped his lips, ‘Which one do I start with?’
He quickly concluded that it didn’t matter and walked to the first little shop on the left. His eyes immediately catch the delightful display of fluffy creatures, primarily teddy bears that lined the display window. His hand fisted into the front of his shirt, his heart pounding with excitement at the uniquely crafted plush companions.
‘W-what is this!?’ He pressed his palms against the smooth glass as he observed each teddy bear. There were varieties of colors and sizes, and each one was placed in a playful pose that beckoned him to take them home. He noticed the craftsmanship of them and the intricate stitching and embroidery that truly brought them to life.
Some were even wearing tiny outfits, with miniature hats and scarves while others had delightful ribbons around their necks. Like a present you would give away on the Earthling holiday, Christmas. He was at a loss for words as he contemplated which ones he wanted to purchase.
However, they were quickly forgotten when he gazed up and his breath hitched. ‘It’s Y/n!’ He grinned, his heart now swelling with pride. ‘I found her.’ He was prepared to walk into your shop when something else caught his eye.
“Hm!?” He watched you threading a needle before leaning over to pierce it through something, but not just any old something. ‘WHAT!?’ his jaw dropped, and his eyes widened as he watched you sew two pieces of fabric together.
One was colored white, and the other black. He knit his eyebrows, noticing that the fabric looked incredibly fluffy and almost defied gravity, standing out in all directions like a cloud of softness. Its dark button eyes shimmered in the light of the shop, and its silly freshly stitched together tongue hung out amidst its black-yarned smile.
“P-panda?!” Not just any panda, but the biggest, fluffiest, and cutest stuffed panda teddy bear he had ever seen or imagined. He was in awe as he continued to watch you create the stuffed companion, and his fingers curled against the glass.
You seemed unaware of his presence, and while that would normally work to his advantage, he wanted your attention. He also wanted that panda bear you were creating. He clenched his jaw, feeling a soft ache course through his teeth.
‘Yes…’ he thought, his hands now trembling. “I must make sure nobody gets the panda bear!” He pushed off the display window, stumbling as he ran to the door. He grasped the handle desperately and felt the weight of the door give way and a bell ring as he barged in.
The change in atmosphere was astounding, there was a certain warmth that surrounded him. The soft lighting that cast a gentle glow over the plush companions that lined every corner only added to the already inviting surroundings. The aroma of fabric with the faint undertone of sawdust filled his nostrils.
However, there was another scent that caught his attention. Something like a hint of lavender and cedarwood. “Hm?” You turned your head, the needle and thread still securely placed between your thumb and forefinger.
“Oh…” your eyes lingered on the strange man who entered your shop, noticing his black shirt, trench coat, and curly mess of hair that hid a portion of his face. Not to mention his long, elf-shaped ears. ‘Well…that’s some look,’ you thought, deciding to shrug it off and greet him.
“Heh,” you forced a smile and tried to muster the sweetest tone, “Hi, welcome to my shop!” His heart accelerated at the sound of your voice, and he straightened his posture. The odd feeling of warmth rushing through his cheeks almost made him think something was wrong.
For a moment, he wondered if this was a trap or if he had contracted some strange new Earthling disease. Had the Earthlings made some new weapon that weakened his kind!? Despite his internal dismay, he hummed in response to your words.
No, this reaction couldn’t have been caused by any Earthling disease. Rather, he suspected that perhaps unlike the rest of the Earthlings on this miserable planet, he had unintentionally selected you as the sole survivor when the Earth was taken over.
And the reason was that…you had caught his interest, or uh, curiosity but what would he do now that he was so close to you!? What could he say? Surely you didn’t wish to talk about the incident with Red Ranger, although that was the incident that triggered this situation.
Given that you didn’t know he had a connection with the Rangers or that he was present when you were interacting with Red Ranger, it would be unwise to mention it. In addition, he did not wish to lose something he had yet to obtain.
His eyes lingered on the stuffed panda you were currently constructing, and his shoulders stiffened. ‘Yes…the panda!’ he reached into his trench coat, pulling out his wallet. ‘I must make sure no Earthling purchases it!’ his steps echoed through the empty shop as he approached you.
“There, at least that section is finished,’ you thought, quickly cutting the remaining thread on the needle before noticing the strange man had approached you. “Uh…” glancing at him up close, you noticed just how tall he was and the slightly intimidating aura that surrounded him.
Although since you were trained in combat, you had very little to worry about. If he tried anything, he’d get his ass kicked the same way Red Ranger did. However, despite your assumptions about him, he caught you by surprise when he pointed at the panda and asked, “How much?!”
You were slightly alarmed by the panic in his voice, as if he were afraid that the stuffed panda you were working on was going to disappear out of thin air. In addition, it struck you as odd that a grown man would want such a stuffed companion. Then again, maybe you shouldn’t judge.
The man could have a family or knew someone who had children who might appreciate your craft. Of course, you knew your customers well and realized you hadn’t seen this man before. “Uh…what’s your name?” you asked, turning briefly to stick the needle you held back into the pin cushion next to the stuffed panda.
“Huh?” Warumono-san frowned. ‘What is this? Is she attempting to distract me away from the panda?’ He irrationally thought, gazing at the inanimate object before looking back at you. His eyes carefully scan you from head to toe, noting that your posture gave away your attitude.
Your hands were on your hips, and that ever-so-interesting hint of a pout on your lips, yet your furrowed brows indicated your annoyance. However, this only reminded him of what an intriguing Earthling you were, and a certain feeling overwhelmed him as he continued to stare at you.
Like a flutter of a hummingbird’s wings, his heart, no…his whole body felt light. “Heh,” he smiled. ‘Yes…well played Y/n…trying to distract me away from the panda!’ He thought, resisting the urge to frantically move his body as he normally would when consumed by his thoughts.
‘Very well, I shall play your game! But know this, the panda is mine!’ He swallowed, his grip tightening around his wallet. “Warumono-san,” he replied, his tone deep and authoritative. Given his position as General of an evil organization that set out to destroy Earth, he was used to speaking with certain tones.
Said tones were normally reserved for putting others in their place. Not that he was ruthless or unjust, no. But he wasn’t foolish enough to dismiss the idea that he deserved a certain level of respect, and even in cases where he did not receive such respect, from Trigger for example, he remained calm and collected.
Respect was earned yes, but you could not expect everyone to respect you. Yet, this ideology was quite amusing considering he found himself respecting you more than any other Earthling simply because of the way you treated Red Ranger and your opinion of the Earthlings. You blinked, tilting your head to the side.
Your hands moved from your hips and rested against your inner elbows when you crossed your arms. “Warumono-san?” You repeated, finding his name or what he liked to be addressed by rather strange. But this world was full of strange, stupid people. So, you shrugged, deciding to go along with the charade.
“Okay?” you replied, taking a breath. “My name is Y/n, I own this shop,” there was a certain bittersweet tone to your voice that made him concerned. Yet, something else took precedence at that moment. “How much for the panda?” He asked again, pointing to it, and noting your eyebrows furrowing again.
“This…” you sighed only being reminded that his behavior was odd. But he hadn’t done anything harmful, and he didn’t smell of booze, so it was safe to assume he wasn’t intoxicated. “This isn’t for sale yet an-” you stumbled back when he shoved a handful of yen into your face.
‘I must make sure nobody else gets the panda!’ His jaw clenched as he intensely stared at you. His eyes held an almost predatory glance. ‘I will not tolerate any other Earthling purchasing what was made by this Earthling!’ And when he spared your life, you could make more stuffed animals.
A stuffed animal for each of his comrades on his mother planet, oh yes! Your body stiffened, and you resisted the urge to grab his wrist and flip him over your shoulder and onto the floor. Pressing your fingertips together, you took a deep breath and felt your stomach sink and your body heat up with the slightest bit of anger.
Like a small match, ready to cause destruction if used correctly. Yet, you tried to remind yourself of the purpose of this shop. The stuffed animals that lined the walls and shelves were the legacy of what your grandparents left behind, as they believed you deserved an easier life than the one your parents tried to force you to have.
‘Right…’ you let out the breath you were holding and returned your gaze to the man who still held out a handful of money. ‘They wouldn’t have approved of me denying this man...’ your eyes lingered on his stone-cold face, ‘As strange as he is.’ Another sigh passed your lips.
“Fine,” you replied, taking the money from him, and quickly counting it. You glanced at the panda, knowing you could always make another one. It would be easy, like clockwork considering you’ve done it your whole life. “I guess this will do,” you said, folding the cash in half before tucking it into your pocket.
“But this particular panda isn’t going to be done for a couple of days,” you informed, casting a soft glare his way. But his reaction was not what you expected, it was almost like he hadn’t heard you. He remained standing there, with the strangest smile on his face.
Although you couldn’t see his eyes because his hair obstructed them, you could feel his stare and it was beginning to make you feel a little self-conscious. “Um…” you crossed your arms. “Hello?” You said, unaware that Warumono-san was simply beaming with happiness.
Not only did you agree to give him the precious panda but knowing that it was made by you made his heart even lighter. He had not felt this way since he was a young one before the crushing weight of the workforce pulled him down.
As he continued to stare at you, he noticed something about you, and it made him grasp his chin in thought. Some form of radiance surrounded you, like a golden hue. Was there not an Earthly term for that? ‘Oh yes,’ it suddenly came to him, he had read about them in one of the religious books certain Earthlings seemed to abide by.
You looked like what they depicted as an angel. Unfortunately, your angelic reign on Earth would soon be over. Yes, he had promised not to harm you, but nothing was said about capturing you. “Thank you,” he said and watched with some amusement as your eyebrows raised as if you hadn’t expected him to speak.
“Yeah well,” you huffed and glanced away from him. “I make and sell these things,” you said, motioning to the in-progress stuffed panda. “So, I guess it’s not a big deal if someone wants one before it’s finished being made,” you concluded.
“Hm?” Warumono-san sensed a heavy tension filling the air, and the frown on your face indicated you weren’t exactly the happiest now. But he remained quiet, allowing you to speak as you wished. Your throat tightened, forming a lump that made you swallow heavily.
“You know, I never really envisioned myself doing this,” you confessed, although you weren’t sure why you were revealing this to a stranger. Maybe it was because he wouldn’t judge you, not that you would care if he did. Maybe it was because you hoped you wouldn’t see him again after this.
Maybe still, there was something about him that made you feel like you could be truthful or vent a little. Beating up Red Ranger only helped so-so. “It just started off as one of my grandparent’s hobbies, and then it turned into this,” you explained, waving your hand through the air.
“Spent most of my childhood helping them with the shop, and learning how to make stuffed animals even if my parents didn’t approve,” you chuckled slightly. “All they cared about was fighting and training in the name of the family reputation.”
Yes, you were grateful that you had learned how to defend yourself, but they pushed you beyond your limits. They acted as though fighting and training were the only qualities that equaled someone being worthy. Because of that, they forced you into that lifestyle or at least it felt like they did.
It was like you never had a choice, and there was constant tension between them and your grandparents over what was best for you. The only time you seemed to get peace away from your parents, and the weight of responsibility lifted from your shoulders was when you were with your grandparents.
They showed you that there was something else you could do with your life and that you had the right to choose what you wanted to do. Of course, this was before you had learned that they left their business to you. Sometimes you think you made the choice to keep their shop alive because you felt like you owed them.
Still, it was the first choice that you had made in your otherwise suffocating life, and because of it, you were disowned by your family which only added salt to the wound. Yes...life was not fair, and the unlucky suffered because of those who thought it right to step all over others.
‘Humanity is awful,’ you thought before looking at Warumono-san. ‘But...at least I can show kindness when I wish to.’ Your chuckle didn’t fool him. It was evident there was a bittersweet sadness you were attempting to cover. “I...” he noticed your hesitance and the subtle pain that shined in your eyes.
“When they died, they passed the shop onto me. Guess I’m just trying my best to keep it alive for their sake,” you concluded with a shrug. “Mm…” perhaps this was another reason why he felt so…infatuated by you. That strong front you put up, that wall that separated your true feelings was much like his.
Yes, everyone looked up to and feared him, but was he truly as evil as everyone depicted? The answer was quite obvious. Yet, there was a tenderness underneath that front that longed to be set free but could only do so seldom. Yes, perhaps you two were more alike than he realized.
He glanced at you, the sadness that enveloped your features was something he detested, perhaps even more than the Rangers. ‘So, the business was passed down to Y/n. Earthlings are known for performing such acts for their offspring or relatives,’ although he didn’t have a solid opinion on how he felt about such things.
There was still so much to learn and comprehend when it came to Earthlings, but this didn’t change the knowledge that once something important was handed to you, it was your job to protect and let it prosper. Things he was going to do with you, very soon.
“I see,” he replied after a moment, daring to step closer to you. “We have similar exchanges on my mother planet,” he confessed before realizing his words. You knit your eyebrows. “What?” You replied, and he shook his head, deciding to choose the strategy of silence.
Although he wanted to reply and make some phony explanation as to why he said what he did, he found himself unable to think rationally. The pounding of his heart echoed in his ears and his simmering hot cheeks only added to this inability.
Yet, one question screamed out in the back of his mind. How could he reveal such confidential information without a second thought!? “Uh…” you blinked, noticing the way he was positioned. He was hunched over, his knees bent and practically pressed against his chest.
His hands were tangled in his messy crop of hair, and his lips were pulled up, revealing his unusual pointy teeth. ‘Is he having some internal crisis?’ You wondered, but just as you stepped forward, he snapped out of his daze, and you saw the faintest hint of his golden orbs peering at you from behind those chocolate-colored strands.
Your eyes widened at the sight of them. Yes, you had seen some unusual things in your time, and the stories Red Ranger told you were extremely difficult to believe, let alone picture. Somehow, Warumono-san’s eyes had you frozen. But not with fear, rather something else. Something…unearthly.
‘Wait a minute...’ it slowly dawned on you. ‘Is this...one of the members of the evil organization?’ A small hint of panic consumed you, but you tried to keep your thoughts straight. That was...ridiculous. If this man was part of that organization, shouldn’t he have done something horrible to you by now?
He stood up, his posture now stiff and his hands loosely curled by his sides. He looked at you, his lips pressed out in a thin line. He could feel the tightness growing in his throat and made the choice to play ignorant, although this was his least favored tactic.
“Thank you very much,” he stated, bowing slightly before he turned to the door and the ends of his tailcoat drifted through the air as he walked away. He wrapped his hand around the metal bar across the door, and once again the bell gave a soft ring, signaling his departure.
However, he paused and looked at you from over his shoulder. His gaze lingers and makes you feel that same strange sensation as if he was from another planet. “Little plushie maker,” he purred, finding some amusement at your wide-eyed expression before walking out of the shop.
He planned to return in a few days to bring the desired plushie panda bear and possibly you home. Once again, his heart fluttered at the thought, and he smiled as he slipped his hands into his pockets, heading back toward the Uenono Zoo.
His steps echoed against the paved grooves that made up the street, and as he looked up at the sky he thought, ‘I must privately report this.’ His eyes focused on a cloud passing by, ‘The day I decided to take an Earthling as my soon to be…beloved.’
#warumono x reader#mr villain x reader#kyuujitsu no warumono san x reader#x female reader#fem reader#faulty writes: warumono san: 24#faulty writes: warumono san: one shot: 24
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can i just say that Elizabeth and Darcy from Pride and Prejudice are the old school version of Stiles and Derek?
Cause i will shout this from my balcony till it breaks beneath me!
Stiles (Elizabeth or if you want, 'lizzy') not giving a flying f about Derek (Darcy) cause this rich dude has no care for others and just runs on raw pride, which lead all his decisions. Which ultimately makes him look like the worst man on earth to Stiles' eyes, which is why he stays away from Derek.
But then, solitary man Derek will start to fall in love with this intelligent and fine creature (stiles) because he couldn't be more difficult to get!
Stiles doesn't care about society, stiles is sharp and of an intellectual awareness that defy every man in search of the tipycal silly type to ask for marriage, and Derek cannot stress himself enough about this sweet, pretty thing dancing around at balls and answering rudeness with politeness mixed with the most sublime undertone of confidence and assertiveness.
cause stiles doesn't care about money or status, stiles cares about marrying someone he truly loves and when he realized derek did love him, he felt sooooo ashamed of how judgemental he had been of this poor man who just wanted his hand! because derek loved him enough to forgive stiles for his harsh words towards him (cause stiles thought of him as a bad individual and spoke of it to him) from the past and was then a more genuine version of himself.
And as Derek and Stiles tangle their lives together because of friends and family, they end up as the most tight knot that will not be undone! especially after derek hear about stiles' high chin and firm words of 'i may not be engaged to him now, but fear i may will' that he spoke to Derek's aunt when she went to stiles to disagree of their possibile engagement
and what did stiles do?
respond to the rudeness of this lady with the sharpest and most confidence tone of 'we will choose for ourselves' which, when derek heard about this, made him go so out of his path to get stiles.
because they didn't know each other, then they did, and they fell in love. and they weren't going to NOT act on it.
(summary: enemies to lovers. which is now my new obsession- yes, i never invested into enemies to lovers, but now i might do some digging)
I'm gonna write a retelling of this so bad.
imagine.
this kind of pretty stiles (with a sharp tongue and pretty look that defy how his mind actually thinks and hides how much 'intellectual power' he has since, for the time the story it's set in, lizzy is an unusual brave woman who would rather marry the poor guy, love of her life over the rich, cold man with money)
pretty because lizzy is viewed as a very pretty women who is recognized as such in society (which dancy then calls 'the most beautiful women I've even seen in my entire life' after someone says she's not even that pretty)
who's personality can go from this ⬇️
yk, funny, outgoing, polite (sort of) and overall a wonderful presence to have conversations with and engage in sharing opinions and dance with during balls (in which her figure is gracefully dancing and all the other stuff i dont remember)
to this ⬇️
a wonderful undertone of 'f you with respect' and 'who do you think you are', who will also be able to undo you in 30 seconds in a verbal battle cause he has the intelligence and intellectual knowledge to do so and WILL do so without much regards for consequences cause he'll do so in a way that will makes it unable for you to bite back cause you'll end up the one being labeled as rude.
pared with
this angry looking fool, who looks more arrogant than anything most of the day, to most people (and even those who knows him talk very little of his doings, because he hides his true emotions and intentions. and despite pride being his fuel, he's still a caring man who is not talk about much if not for his money = they talk about his fortune and not the values he has, despite the sort of 'contorted' way in which everything is based on pride)
(which could also be older, but who know what I'll end up choosing when i write this - because yes, i love older men ⬇️)
who, ultimately, will look at stiles like this⬇️
because 'damn, you are the only person i want by my side for the rest of my life' and he wont be able to move his gaze elsewhere cause despite being an a-hole to stiles for the major part of theirshared time, he was still able to redeem himself by showing his kindness and actually gets stiles.
while stiles is like
because after pulling up the bad facade of 'i dont give a f about you cause i think you are rude', he felt ashamed when he found he was wrong about him but then darcy (derek) forgives him and he can't hold his feelings anymore and just shows everything through his eyes and the soft laughter he lets out when they talk cause he has still to process how much these two are gonna love each other (this, before they are engaged)
so.
I'll buy the book (cause i read a school fitted version of it), annotate things, write down some coherent line of plot and one day, I'll write everything down.
till then, I'll scream about this from my balcony, thanks for have come to this sort of tedtalk.
and this is for you, my sweet @dontcallpanic, i hope you'll like my little gift as I'm still working, rather slowly, on my replies for you 🩵🫂
#i feel like this is soooo fit for them#just imagine the tension#wip i will write#sterek#fanfic project#pride and prejudice#derek hale#teen wolf#derek x stiles#ao3 writer#my thougts#stiles stilinski
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Yanderetober 4/10
Yandere Demon x Female Reader:
TW:
❤️️The singing demon❤️️
Back in the 20th century, there was a young woman named (Y/n) (Y/a), who belonged to a high-class family and was married to a kind and handsome man named Alexis. They were a couple of twenty-two and twenty-seven years old, having been married for about five years respectively.
They met when the young (Y/n) was seventeen years old and he was "twenty-two" with a young appearance. She was a girl who still lived with her parents and siblings; while Alexis was beginning to make himself known in the world of music, showing his incredible talent and attracting a lot of fans and audiences everywhere.He approached her after her family invited him to a relative's birthday party to sing and play. That man noticed her immediately, but it was difficult to gain her love, since unlike his fans, she did not fall under the hypnosis of his music at the first moment, which was a challenge for him.
It wasn't until he gave her some beautiful flowers, albeit with a strange scent.
From there, she slowly fell in love with him and slowly reciprocated his flirtations until she was completely crazy about him, becoming his girlfriend, and currently his wife. He was quite good, respectful and kind to her. In addition to being a hard worker, he was intelligent and diligent. He belonged to the high society of that time, so he was a man of money and renown, which made (Y/n) considered a lucky woman.
--You were great, Alex-- She congratulated him when they arrived at the front of the mansion and (Y/n) got out of the car.
--Ah, eh… I think I'll be a little late again, darling-- He excused himself when he saw that she was waiting for him to enter with her. This greatly disconcerted her, so he approached her and gently held her chin.
--Seriously? Again?-- (Y/n) asked with slight annoyance. He nodded.
--Yes. I have to coordinate not only my next concert, but I also have to coordinate the radio shows I was invited to; and also, I have to coordinate a party that is next Saturday, which I want you to go to with me-- Alexis replied, holding her hands and giving her a soft kiss on the lips.
--A party on Saturday? Great! It coincides with our anniversary-- His discomfort dissipated a little, showing his smile. He loved his anniversaries with him (in addition to every day of coexistence, obviously); And of course, she wanted to do something for him this Saturday at home, but this idea seems much better.
--Yeah. I want you to look splendid for that day. But returning to the subject; I don't know what time I return, I just know what will be late-- He kissed her and then got into the vehicle. --Good night, darling-- Alexis said goodbye, and the driver led to the desired fate, leaving (t/n) there in the house, only with some maids.
She entered the house and thought more about the situation. She suspected that she was being a victim of infidelity on the part of her husband, so she made the decision to follow him for the next few days.
The first few days and nights were normal, but everything changed on Friday night, when she never imagined what she would end up finding.
She managed to follow him to what appears to be a church out of the city, thanks to a taxi. She walked to the entrance of said church, in the middle of a forest; the church in question looked normal from the outside. (Y/n) walked, following her fiancé from afar and watching him enter said church from behind a tree. She looked out one of the windows and was horrified by what she saw.
There were other people inside, who she recognized as some of her husband's fans and fellow producers, but what struck her most were the demonic decorations and paintings or photos of her smiling next to what Alexis really is; that is, a demon.
(Y/n) watched as her husband walked down the center to what appears to be the altar of the church, transforming into the demon he truly is. She was horrified and very terrified at what she saw, trembling in fear. The other members just stared at their master in fascination. (Y/n) walked away from the window, and in that she accidentally stepped on a branch, which especially alerted the demon who already detected her scent. He immediately sent his followers to look for her and they were quick to go after her.
(Y/n) walked away from the window, and in that she accidentally stepped on a branch, which especially alerted the demon who already detected her scent. He immediately sent his followers to look for her and they were quick to go after her.
--Oh no!-- She immediately started running away, but was still soon surrounded and grabbed. The fans immediately brought her to "Alexis", referring to (Y/n) as "queen". When they finally left her before that demon, she couldn't say anything out of fear. Her husband smiled in fascination and gently stroked her chin with his claws.
--(Y/n), you are such a curious person, to the point of putting yourself in the lion's den. I was planning to reveal myself to you tomorrow night, but you simply accelerated the inevitable. I imagine you suspected that I was unfaithful to you, right?-- He spoke to her in his deep but hypnotic voice. She could only nod as she trembled and cried in terror.
--But still, it's good to know that my queen is here, with us and that you will never leave us.-- He then proceeds to hug her while he has her under a trance, proceeding to give her a passionate kiss on the lips, marking her as his.
-The end.
#yandere#yandere oc#cw yandere#yandere love#yandere x you#yandere male#platonic yandere#tw yandere#male yandere#yandere x reader#irl yandere#yandere x darling#actual yandere#yandere aesthetic#yandere boy#yandere concepts#yandere concept#yandere community#yandere darling#yandere fanfiction#yandere imagine#yandere male x reader#yandere monster#yandere imagines#yandere headcanons#yandere oc x reader#yandere oneshot#yandere writing#yanderecore#yandere boyfriend
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Tim Through the Years - The Talk
Series Masterlist
Summary: You and Tim have a serious talk.
Warnings: discussion of poor family life and past abuse, fluff and comfort. 0.7k+ words.
Things were getting serious between you and Tim. You talked daily, grabbed dinner or lunch together, and spent every weekend together (if Tim's schedule allowed). You knew it was time to talk to Tim and tell him everything, about all the things in your past because you could see spending the rest of your life with him. You decided to wait and bring it up before movie night so you could know what to say, and Tim didn't worry.
“Hey, can we talk?” you asked Tim as he sat down with a big bowl of popcorn.
“Of course, is everything okay?” Tim said and quickly grabbed your hand to rub circles on it.
“I just want to talk about my life before California. My life in Kansas,” you said softly.
Tim looked at you and smiled softly. “I’d love to get to know you more”.
“I just want to be honest, I won’t be upset if you decide to end our relationship. I’ve prepared myself for this,” you told him with a sad smile.
“I’d never leave you because of your past, you know my past and still love me all the same. So please tell me everything,” Tim said and gently squeezed your hand.
“My mother died in childbirth, so my brother Dean and my Uncle Bobby took care of me and Sam. Uncle Bobby watched us while my dad was who knows where until Dean was older and then he took care of us. Our father would be gone for weeks at a time and didn’t leave us much money for food. So, Dean would mow yards or do chores around the neighborhood to earn money for us so we could eat or get clothes. Bobby gave Dean the car they’d been working on for years as a present for his 16th birthday and a job in his garage. Dean did a lot for us, he basically was the dad I wanted our father to be. He was there for us through everything, he showed up to everything we did. Now our father, when he was home… he was either drunk, angry, or both. Dean took most, if not all, of the abuse our father dished out onto us. Our father would yell a lot and throw dishes at the wall all the time. He once showed up to our high school because Sam got in a fight with someone and he did nothing. Sam was a small guy back then, and an easy target, so our father decided to fight Sam to teach him to defend himself. Sam had to get three stitches… He also locked me into a closet for two days because I got suspended for three days for getting into a fight. I was defending Sam but it wasn't 'lady-like' in my fathers eyes. He would even tell me and Sam it was our fault our mom wasn’t there. Then, when Dean graduated, he moved out of the house and lived with Uncle Bobby. Things got really bad; so bad that he showed up one day with the police and paperwork saying we were under his guardianship. He didn’t even recognize us, we were to-the-bone skinny, bruises everywhere, cuts all over our faces, and Dean pressed charges against our father. So we all moved into an apartment together. It was really hard to walk around freely; Sam and I would flinch at any sudden loud noise. Dean had to work with us really, really hard to get us not to be scared and back to a healthy weight. When Sam and I moved to California to get away from Kansas and to start better lives, Dean followed to protect us and so we could all be together. My brothers mean everything to me, we are all so close that it’s hard to even think about one of us leaving,” you finished with a shaky breath and felt Tim softly rub a stray tear from your face.
“You are the most beautiful, amazing, and strong woman I know, and I love you so much,” Tim said passionately as he pulled you into a big, warm embrace.
Bonus
“You said Sam was small. I’ve seen pictures of your brother. He’s huge!” Tim exclaimed.
“His nickname is Moose, because of how big he is. But as a high school freshman, he was so short!” you told him while watching the movie.
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There are many reasons why I love the entire camp cretaceous series so much but while I was watching Choas Theory season 2, I was hit with yet another one!
JWCC and JWCT consistently develop the characters's psyche. They keep evolving and growing, nearly every single experience changes them a little bit in such a compelling and human way. What more important - those changes become entwined with the characters' personalities - not forgotten. And the show just. Keep. Doing. That. (spoilers for season 2 ahead).
First, we have Darius who lost his father pre-season 1 jwcc and this experience changed him for life. Although by now he has made peace with it - notice how he reacts to Kenji's joke about Daniel's death in the current timeline. His expression is completely different from the expressions of other characters because being half-orphan is one of the things that shaped him as a person. And the show doesn't forget about that.
We also have Ben who - as we all know - went through a severe trauma on Isla Nublar. Who's "glow-up" was essentially a trauma response. I said it before and I'll say it again - JWCT is handling him perfectly. He is the perfect blend of that shy little boy from jwcc season 1, the boy who survived in the jungle on his own, and the boy who understood that there's still space for him to keep changing. I love it so much when the show runners remind us that Ben used to be that shy, awkward boy, who was unsure how to handle emotions, but always tried to voice them out. I love that he is conflicted so often - that's just our Ben. Most of his battles have always been on an emotional level - and putting him in the situation with Brooklyn in season 2 just proved it once again.
We have Yas... Oh, I could talk about her for hours. A girl who openly acknowledged her trauma. A girl who went from being socially awkward to a woman who recognizes destructive patterns in others and sees her old self in them. A girl who learned how to be emotionally and socially smart and isn't afraid of using those skills - because she has always been capable!
Sammy... don't piss me off. That's my girl through and through. A girl who would do anything for her loved ones! Every single time when she spent time with Aminata in season 2 - we could finally see how she probably used to interact with her family. We also could see how - even tho the camp fam are her family - she misses her family still. That was such a powerful move - a move that reminded us what Sammy was capable of in jwcc season 1. A move that reminded us that she is willing to take those risks - which she wanted to do again in season 2 when she and Yas were separated.
Brooklyn is...- As I was watching season 2, I found myself growing more and more hungry for her screen time. I wanted to see her, hear her. I was cautious of her every word. Did she change? Yes. But she was always madly determined. Ever since the beginning of the jwcc - once she set her eyes on something it was hard for her to focus on other stuff. Remember the frozen flowers in jwcc? Remember her obsession with going "behind the scenes"? That's the same determination right now. She has never lost it, it only evolved into something more dangerous, and who could blame Brook for that? the world, in fact, is more dangerous than 13-year-old Brooklyn thought.
I left Kenji for the end. Because both season 1 of JWCT and season 2 blew my mind when it comes to his character. He is. perfect. Currently, in terms of character development, he is probably my favorite. His daredevil-like tendencies in season 2? shut up. his interactions with his father in season 1 and everything Daniel's death followed? This is peak character writing and I mean it. I have never expected the show to go that deep but god lord, I should have seen that one coming. Kenji who in jwcc learned how to love and appreciate people properly, lost so many of them in jwct? of course, it damaged him on levels that are hard to imagine. At the same time - his behavior isn't completely out of character - even Darius points out at some point that (in season 2) Kenji acts "beyond" the way he behaved in the past. The same trait but Kenji's out of control of it now. Genius.
JWCC and JWCT are shows that are brilliant. Shows that have a clear and very simple message: your relationships with others define you. if you see them eaten, it's going to scar you forever. if you lose them, their shadow will stay in your pocket for a long time.
#jwct#jurassic world camp cretaceous#jwcc#jurassic world chaos theory spoilers#jurassic world chaos theory#jwct spoilers#jwct season 2
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tommy shelby x finn's teacher!reader pt.3 || pt.2 , pt.1
you smoothed your dress for what felt like the millionth time that evening, running your fingers through the orange and golden fabric.
you stood outside the garrison, noise and light filtering from the inside. if one listened closely, a few tipsy men could be heard faintly singing to some even faintier orchestra music. but you were too lost on your thoughts to pay any mind to it. tommy's words reverberated in your head. wednesday evening. it appeared he was throwing quite a party inside the pub. weird, considering it was wednesday, but who were you to judge.
though the sky was darkening and the streetlights emitted very dim light, you glistened against the night. gold jewellery adorned your ears, neck, arms and fingers. you looked radiant. nevertheless, the fact that you were going to be seen only increased the bundle of nerves in your gut.
you tried to remind yourslef that this was just an invitation to a party at tommy shelby's pub, strictly that. it was by no means exclusive. but you knew better than to believe that. though it might come off as insignificant, it incapsulated something more. with thomas shelby it always did. even the most ordinary actions turned intimate and compelling.
after what felt like an eternity to you, you finally gathered the courage to walk the few steps that separated you from the pub and get in at once. a wave of heat washed over you as the temperature rose from inside. the music was louder, delicate and harmonical, with chattering everywhere.
you found yourself contemplating the beautiful ornaments of the garrison that fascinated you so much. the interior lights brought a glimmer to every corner. and then a particular glint caught your attention.
an ocean-colored depth, captured in a pair of piercing eyes, already familiar to you by now. but they didn't fail to draw you in every single time.
he was leaning against the bar, and he didn't even wait for a second to make his way towards you once he saw you.
"y/n" thomas called out as he approached you.
"hey" you greeted, cheeks rosy from the chilly weather. "how've you been? how's everything?"
"not bad, not bad. how 'bout you, things alright?" he replied, cautiously eyeing the way you glittered- beyond your accessories, there was a certain glow in your skin, silkness in your hair. and that dress fitted your figure perfectly.
"everything in order" you smiled, not missing the chance to take a good look at the man who had been plaguing your mind for the past few days. he had always felt like a mystery to you, but now you were looking forward to explore said mystery. "it's quite a party you've got in here"
"thought you'd like it" he said. he rather meant something along the lines of 'i wanted a desperate excuse to see you again', but he kept that to himself.
"i absolutely do. thank you for inviting me, the party looks lovely" you smiled his way, heart fluttering in your chest.
"it was all polly's doing" tommy admitted.
"polly?"
"my aunt" he replied, gesturing with his head to a more private room near the door.
he put his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it softly as a welcome, but guiding you to the secluded room where his family and some of the peaky blinders were in.
he held the door open for you. inside sat two men who you recognized vaguely, arthur and john shelby. there were also a woman, a few men and-
"finn? hi!" you acknowledged your student, sitting at a corner, trying not to frown once you saw the beer in his hand.
the boy's eyes widened, his face flushing lightly.
"miss y/n, hello" he mumbled, too shy to look at you.
"isaiah, take the boys to the cut or somewhere, will ya?" arthur muttered to one of the men, who gave him a nod and took finn away to gather the rest of the younger boys.
"everyone, y/n y/l/n" tommy introduced, hand still on you as he guided you to a seat. "these gentlemen are my brothers, john and arthur; and my aunt, polly gray"
ah, polly gray. you took a careful glance at the elegant, classy lady, who exuded charm. yes, the party seemed proper of her.
"care for a dance?" tommy asked, leaning slightly towards you.
the two of you had exited the room a while ago, mingling with other people and enjoying some drinks.
you gaped at him for a moment, suddenly breathless and at a loss of words. you knew everybody would be watching, but your concerns went further than that. wasn't all this going too quickly? but also, weren't you enjoying every last bit of this?
"oh, i'm not sure, tommy, i-" you stuttered, trying to excuse your way out of it. though you had done your best to hide it, you had no clue on how to dance. "i don't dance..."
" 's okay" he reassured, a smile on his lips. "follow my lead, eh? you'll be alright."
you tried to refuse again, but tommy had already grasped your hand, gentle but firm, and was dragging you to where the people were mingling, dancing and enjoying themselves.
he didn't let go of your hand, placing it on his shoulder instead and putting his hand on your lower back, bringing you closer. his other hand clasped yours and rose it, as a slower piece began to play.
"just back and forth. easy, eh?" he guided your every step carefully, making sure you got how it went before falling into a rhythm.
you occupied your mind with keeping up with his steps, focusing on the music, avoiding instead thinking about the softness of his hand on the small of your back, about how you were so close you could see the freckles on his skin.
you soon got enhanced by the man dancing with you. the expensive cologne, the way he smiled down at you as encouragement, his finger rubbing circles faintly over the back of your hand. it all wrapped around you dreamily.
as the music came to an end, you met his gaze. maybe you shouldn't have, because you weren't able to look away. because, reflected on the captivating blue, were mirrored the same feelings your eyes spoke for you. and he realized that too.
without wasting any further second, he dragged you away from the people, exiting through the back door of the pub, taking you to another room, this one empty of people, poorly decorated.
you immediatly found yourself in tommy's arms again, fingers travelling his body as he leaned even closer.
you stayed like that for some instants, a silent allure settling down over you. his hands on your waist, yor hand on his cheek. taking in the other's presence, as if you were going to disappear at any second.
your mind was racing with worries. how even had you ended up in this situation?
"tommy, i-" you bit your lip, trying to find the words. "should we-"
suddenly his face was inches away from yours, noses brushing, breath fanning over the other's lips. the sudden closeness- even more than it had been before- left you wordless, and any doubt you still carried dissipated.
he said your name in no more than a whisper, as if asking for permission. you corresponded with an impatient nod, your hand upon his cheek caressing it slightly.
tommy's lips captured yours in a gentle and lasting kiss. the contact was delicate, his mouth careful on yours in a way you'd have never exoected of him. his grip on your waist tightened, drawing you closer as the kiss deepened, slow but steady, as if you were savouring every moment.
his silky touch surprised tommy himself; he felt like he wanted to treasure you, keep you with him, too scared to let go. as the kiss fell into a more passionate pattern, he became aware of how fast his heart was beating, hammering in his chest at the scent of your hair, the sound of your erratic breathing. x
your hands found the collar of his shirt and grasped it adamantly, needily almost. your lips danced now to a perfect symphony. he tasted like whisky and cigarettes, and right now it felt like a banquet to you.
tommy broke the kiss for a mere second, face still close, just to admire how the dim lights traced your features, how your lipstick was faintly smeared, how your eyes fluttered open, how your breathing became needful in his abscence.
not being able to hold back longer, you pulled him into a kiss again, a much more heated one, and he complied, more than satisfied with the sight.
© heartcereql, 2023 || thank you for reading ! 𓆩 ♱ 𓆪
taglist: @budugu ☆ @tatumrileyslover ☆ @stayaways-world ☆ @amberpanda99
#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby imagine#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby#peaky blinders x reader#tommy shelby#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy#heartcereql
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Carmy wants to be understood more than anything
Thinking about this magnificent post (their gifs) and the core of what I ship sydcarmy.
Carmy seems to feel rejected by his mother since early childhood, and tolerated a portion of their extended family humiliating him for his career. He was bullied for leaving home, and when he came home, he was resented for making a decision of not doing it sooner. I want the show to address this last aspect because of the horrible abuse he suffered in nyc every day, then loosing the closest thing to a parent you ever had, he probably had some sort of breakdown.
Regardless, my point is that Carmy rejects a lot of parts of his persona, because everyone around him also did. That is probably why he had a stutter (it is common in kids who don’t feel anybody wants to listen to them) he himself said that he was afraid of speaking half the time. Rejection is his core wound. Hr never felt understood or truly embraced. He didn’t have friends. He needed everybody to valid his relationship with Claire before being comfortable with putting a name to it. He doesn’t recognize his talents in drawing, he had to fake a whole personality to get through a social gathering with people his age.
Claire was okey with him pretending to be someone else in that party, she acted like it was cool. She pushes him to do a lot of things without asking for his opinion. For me, she is ignoring his voice at various levels too. She is even dismissive “talking about dead brothers you wanna go to a party”
And then you have Syd, a woman who is also romantically interested in him, that wants to know his side of things. Most of their grow as partners had to do with mutual honest communication, they have this telepathic conversations about a shared passion. She sees him. She understands him even with how little she has.
I am not saying it is about how many things he has in common with Claire vs Syd. Is about how Syd has seen the worst of Carmen and stills helps him to get better because she also sees his kind nature. It is about how she knows when he is being shitty and held him accountable. It is the lack of difficulty in their understanding and mutual respect, even when they are pissed at each other.
If Carmy chooses the dismissive ex girlfriend over the partner that had understand him more than anybody else he has ever meet, I am sorry, but wtf are you trying to tell me?
#like give me a good fucking reason and I will respect it#but you haven’t give me nothing#fuck me up season 3#very anti claire bear here#the bear#sydney adamu#sydcarmy#the bear fx#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto#the bear meta#carmy the bear#carmy x sydney#sydney x carmy
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BIRD HUNT — three
nonidol!choi line x f!reader
gotham city is a gutter running rampant with the ill, corrupt, and the insane. at times, justice and vengeance must be served by one's own hand... no matter the lengths one must go to do so.
▷ genre, au, etc. bat family au, dc comics inspired, dark, vigilantes au, slow burn, ceo/billionaire au, cat woman!reader, murder mystery au, action, suspense, angst, slow burn-ish?, love square??; choi line inspired by dick grayson (csb), jason todd (cyj), and tim drake (cbg), including bruce wayne for choi minho and damian wayne for nishimura riki, inspired by 2022's The Batman
▷ chapter warnings. swearing, mentions of death and murder, mentions of weaponry, depictions of violence, use of pepper spray, breaking and entering
▷ word count. 4.4k // taglist: open
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FILE_03 : by the tail
gotham city.
[seven days since your mother was murdered.]
"Is she here?"
The voice was familiar to your sensitive ears, and although your eyes remained fixed on Mrs. Lee, you shifted your attention mentally to the two—no, three—wait… four?—figures making their way over to where you and Mrs. Lee stood in the home office space. Their footsteps were as quiet as heeled loafers could be against hollow wood floors. The Lees' home in the suburbs was a safe distance from the heart of Gotham, so the neighborhood was much nicer and much more like a home. The Lees had been ushered here after Lee Sungjae had been found murdered, and they'd resided here since.
You had been called in the day after the incident happened—that was the day after you had gone to see your father. We must work fast, Yn. They've already gotten to one of my… men. That was what he'd told you, and when he elaborated, you had discovered that every news channel now blasted footage of Lee Sungjae's dead, glassy eyes.
You had been busy since, trying to both grieve in peace and work at the same time.
"—take more time, Yn-ah. Losing a loved—" Mrs. Lee's voice cracked slightly and she covered her mouth.
"Mrs. Lee—"
She waved your hand away, angling her body away slightly so she could regain composure. "No, no. It's alright. I'm alright. I just… I know how it feels, and I think you deserve time to yourself, as well."
Of course you told her about your mother. You had to take another day off when one of your coworkers had noticed how spaced out you were when you came in. No, you didn't tell her your mother was murdered the same way her husband had. That was between you, your father, and the motherfucker who did this.
But for now, you were supposed to be here to answer the police's questions about your employer. You had been one of three of Mr. Lee's secretaries for the past several months now, having come under his employ about a year ago after Choi Enterprises turned you away. But magically, a few days afterward, this offer from the office of one Lee Sungjae had arrived in your inbox. When one door closed, as they said, another opened. Whatever guardian angel was looking over you then certainly wasn't looking over you now though.
"Miss Ln?"
You turned around and expected to see Commissioner Kim Namjoon and your co-secretary, Shin Ryujin, but you hadn't expected the two others with them. They stood behind the two aforementioned, both in black domino masks that covered the top halves of their faces. Their suits were skintight, most likely to allow for more mobility, but they also accentuated their starkly muscular figures. The taller one wore a suit of dark blue and black, while the other donned a maroon red and black ensemble. You recognized them, respectively, as Gotham's very own Nightwing and the Red Robin. Vigilantes. What were they doing with Commissioner Kim?
Ryujin bowed her way out, gently taking Mrs. Lee with her. That left you with the others.
"Hello, Miss Ln," Commissioner Kim greeted with a tired, but not unkind, smile. He fished a small notepad out of his coat pocket, ballpoint pen clicking to life. "My name is Commissioner Kim. These two… not sure if you need any introductions."
When you remained silent with only a nod, he continued, "We're here investigating the murder of your former employer, and we were informed that you often handled his familial affairs. We've already spoken with Miss Shin and Mr. Yun, but we wanted to ask where you were last Wednesday night at ten o'clock."
You were very aware that Nightwing had decided to wander about the office, eyes taking in the shelves and the notes and the desk… then there was Red Robin, who's attention was pinned intently on you, arms crossed firmly over his chest. There was something awfully familiar about these two. "Is that an accusation, Commissioner?" You asked, leaning against the edge of the desk.
"It doesn't have to be," he said airily. "Just answer the question, Miss."
"I was at home," you answered, schooling your face into neutrality. "You can ask my employer's wife and my coworkers—I was taking time off to grieve my mother's death."
The shock was not the most stark on the commissioner's face, but on Red Robin's. "She's dead?—" He coughed; even Nightwing had paused his movements. "I mean, I'm sorry for your loss." You didn't recognize the voice, but you suspected it was probably being disguised with a voice modulator.
The commissioner sent him a bewildered look, but turned back to you. "I'm very sorry for your loss, Yn. Truly." He asked with almost a grimace, "Can anyone corroborate your whereabouts? I understand you were most likely home alone, but perhaps a neighbor, a significant other…?"
And there it was again—that shift in energy as both the vigilantes in the room stopped to focus on you.
You shook your head with a tight smile. It probably wouldn't bode well if you revealed to them who your father was or that you paid the Iceberg Lounge a visit that day. You were also a little too preoccupied with survival to have a significant other, and you hadn’t been close enough to a neighbor in years. "No. Just my cats."
There was something so familiar about this Red Robin character, but you couldn't put a finger on it. Or maybe it was the way he was staring at you with such pity (and sympathy) that made you wish he was someone else. Either way, you needed to know why these two vigilantes were put on the case, and what they might have already found out. At the moment, it didn't seem like it would pose a problem, but you thought it wouldn't hurt to be a little more careful.
When you arrived home that night, bones aching as much as your head pulsed, you collapsed on the couch. A few of your cats began to swarm your legs, soft fur tickling the skin exposed when your pant leg lifted. Blue, a very introverted Russian Blue who you managed to make an extrovert when it came to you, plopped himself onto your lap like a warm, vibrating mass. You ran your fingers through his fur to the symphony of someone's purrs (you figured it was Byeol; he was quite vocal).
"Should I invite him to the funeral?" You murmured to Blue in question.
He stared back at you, then silently turned his gaze to a particle of dust floating in the air.
You exhaled back against the couch cushions. "I'll take that as a yes."
In the dead of night—because there was always a dead of night, even for Gotham City—you pulled a dark beanie over your head and the top half of your face. Two holes had been cut and sewn for your eyes to see through, and at the top of the hat, two little triangles sat akin to ears. You recalled the night you had crocheted this on a whim, your mother having done most of the work.
"Blue wants it to have cat ears, mama," you'd told her just as she brought out her tub of yarns.
Your mother's eyes glittered. "Is that right? Well, we'll have to add cat ears then, won't we?"
You thought it would be fitting to find her killer in this. You thought it fit you quite well, at least.
The rest of you was dressed in black, and your hand grazed over Soul's fluffy, white head as you propped open the second floor window. "I'll be home soon," you whispered to the last of your family, then disappeared into the night.
"I can't get why this is so familiar to me," Beomgyu voiced into the echoes of the Batcave, hands braced against the main monitor as he stared at the copy of the note: A Debt Repaid. He had been staring at it for the past week, not consecutively, but it hadn't left the forefront of his mind. Like you.
Soobin trudged over to his brother with a bowl of cereal cradled in his large palm, the other hand spooning the sweet milk and wheat flakes into his mouth. "Mm. Maybe give it a rest for a little, Beom."
"And do what?"
"How do you know Ln Yn?"
Beomgyu whirled around just as Soobin settled into the desk chair, waiting. Beomgyu made a scoffing noise, eyebrows flying up to his shaggy bangs. "Where did that come from?"
Soobin smiled and shrugged. "You tell me." He slurped up a bit more milk before adding, "You're the one who reacted like that in front of everyone when she said she was grieving her mother's death. You sounded shocked that she died."
"Well yeah, wouldn't you be shocked to hear someone else died so close to another's death?"
"Stop trying to bullshit him, Gyu."
Both the brothers looked up at the voice who had just entered the underground space. Yeonjun strolled into the main area in a white tank top and sweats, hair sticking up in different places. He stretched his arms above his head and yawned loud and wide.
Soobin cocked a brow at him. "Nice of you to finally join us, hyung. How'd the date go?"
"Great," Yeonjun quipped. "We're going on a second one soon. I think Felix almost sent me off with a kiss goodnight." He slumped onto the edge of the desk, eyes lazily taking in the images and information displayed on the many monitor screens. "This is our stiff, huh?"
Soobin sent him a look that distinctly said 'No, we're just looking at dead bodies for fun.'
"Yeah," Beomgyu replied. "The note the killer left is so familiar to me though. Have you seen it before?" He knocked his knuckles against the monitor with the note.
Yeonjun's eyes narrowed on the screen, before he leaned back with that bored look renewed on his face. "You're both idiots. It's from that one killing a couple weeks ago."
Beomgyu and Soobin traded looks. "What?"
Their eldest brother leaned down to reach the lowest drawer at the desk. From its depths, he fished out a large bag of chips and grabbed a handful to stuff his face with. "Y'know," he garbled and gestured vaguely with his crumb-dusted fingers. "Beomgyu, you know! You were there with me. It was that one lawyer guy who was found dead in his car beneath the bridge. That same note was taped to his windshield."
"Oh yeah," Beomgyu drawled, while Soobin shook his head with a sigh. The former then knocked his foot against the latter's shin. "Aye! You didn't even know it."
"Yeah, because I wasn't on that case," Soobin fired back. He finished off the rest of his bowl of cereal and set the empty ceramic in his lap before crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes, like his brothers' were lined beneath with heavy eye bags. Someone was supposed to be on patrol around the city right now, but neither of the three brothers were in any rush to get up. "So it's just one person going after these people then."
Yeonjun chewed his bottom lip. "Then we just gotta find the connection."
"Was the lawyer guy from a couple weeks ago Lee Sungjae's attorney?" Soobin asked.
Beomgyu grabbed a hold of the wireless keyboard on the desk and braced it upon his thighs. He pulled up an internet browser and typed in their inquiry. All three brothers made noises of disgruntlement; if the lawyer hadn't been Sungjae's attorney, then how were they connected? It was no secret that 99.9 percent of the population here in Gotham had some sort of… shadow looming over their shoulder. It was almost impossible to get anywhere without the help of a corrupt figure, whether that be a mob boss like the Penguin or loan shark with special strategies to get someone to pay up.
Either way, there would be lots of digging required.
"Let's start with Lee Sungjae and the lawyer's records,'' Soobin decided as he sat up in the chair. "We'll sort through phone records, acquire security footage of their movements, their texts, etcetera."
"I call none of those," Yeonjun said. When his younger brothers scowled at him, he raised both hands in feigned surrender with a giggle. "Fine, fine. You're both lookin' at me like I murdered your favorite puppy."
They remained silent.
"What, too soon?"
The basement headquarters suddenly erupted in a dull siren sound, and Beomgyu was swift to pull up a set of footage on one of the monitors. It displayed a section of the sky, a white spotlight circle cast against a massive, dark gray cumulus cloud with a distinct bat shape in the center—their call to action.
All three men were on their feet in an instant—keyboard and cereal bowl abandoned on the table, capes and utility belts clicked into place.
"Meet you losers there!" Yeonjun hollered as the cave filled with the revving roar of his motorcycle engine like a clap of thunder.
Soobin and Beomgyu hurried over to their respective cycles. "Hey, we're not done talking about Ln Yn!" Soobin called to his younger brother.
Beomgyu flashed him a thin smile. "That's what you think!" And he sped away down the runway.
Soobin chuckled to himself, grinning. Then he revved his engine and launched himself after his brothers.
To be completely honest, you had no idea what you were doing. Actually, that was a lie. You kind of knew what you were doing, but that was leagues away from completely knowing what you were doing until it was muscle memory. Right now though, as you gripped onto the side of the building, fingertips digging into the concrete ledge like a lifeline (because it might as well had been one), you couldn't wait until it became muscle memory.
God, your arms were going to ache tomorrow morning.
"It's worth it, Yn," you muttered to yourself, under your breath, and that was what made you reach up one more time and grasp onto the ledge of the window sill. You had always wondered why buildings like this lacked security cameras, but based on its practically smooth facade, it was no wonder. Only a crazy person would dare scale something like this.
The law firm building was not one of the largest nor one of the dingiest. If it had been some place like Clark & Field, you would have considered other ways to get into the building, but it would probably be through the inside (because scaling a fifty story skyscraper without a net was not on your bucket list). And if the building had been on the dingier side, it would have, frankly, been much easier to find footholds and places to brace. Except for any mold or crumbly parts. That was not fun either.
Or maybe you could classify scaling buildings as just… not fun in general. But the skills and the strength would come with time.
This time, however, was fueled by pure willpower.
But the universe was on your side for once, and the window you clung to gave way and granted you entry. The stupid lock picks had actually worked.
Despite being dead for two weeks, Yang Eunhyuk’s office still looked like its owner was still alive. There were documents left out in the open, all of the furniture had yet to be touched, there was an old (upon further investigation, really old) cup of coffee on the desk, and a two-week-old calendar for the week’s appointments and cases. You peered at the calendar and skimmed its contents, but found nothing terribly noteworthy. You strolled by the bookcase, footsteps light as a cat’s, and glimpsed the titles. There were a lot of convoluted-sounding titles on the shelves, and honestly, you doubted that he even read half of the books there. They were probably just for show when clients came in.
After you had given yourself a tour of the space, you determined that no one had truly cared enough about this man to really clean up for him. The door out into the hallway was locked, and through its frosted glass door, you could make out the distinct yellow police tape crossed over the frame. This was no crime scene, but the police had still had the room locked down… odd.
You figured they didn’t care enough. But maybe this guy had more connections than you were giving him credit for. He had been one of your father’s clients, after all. (Actually, that wasn’t enough to determine whether or not Yang was smart or not. Resorting to your father’s ever-generous solutions was stupid; and you were very well-aware that that made you stupid, too.)
Your father had sent you to this office for something in particular.
“Yang Eunhyuk was an idiot and a half,” your father had told you the day you had come to him. “But he knows how to hide his things when he needs to.” He had carefully relayed all of the necessary information to you as the two of you sat on the couch together to outline your next steps and what exactly he was asking of you. “He owes me a compilation of files and a burner phone.”
When you’d asked what for, there was that gleam in his eyes as if he found the question amusing. “Well, to find out who betrayed us, of course.”
“To find who killed Mom?”
He had nodded at you—waved his hand flippantly. “Yes. That’s the same thing, Yn.”
A burner phone and a compilation of files. Your father had already searched Yang’s personal place of residence, but there had apparently been nothing but “shit." So here you were… sorting through more shit.
You drummed the pads of your fingers on the surface of the desk.
“Where would he hide you, hm?” You murmured to yourself. You tried all of the drawers under the desk—four of the seven came up locked. The top three drawers were all filled with a smorgasbord of knick knacks and junk like a fidget spinner, fidget cube, a package of cigarettes, and even a used gum wrapper. (Gross.) You slipped a lock pick out from your sleeve as you considered the remaining four locked drawers, then realized that Yang Eunhyuk might not have kept your father’s files in the same place as his regular, ol’ case files.
And so, you moved away from the desk.
You figured there were specific places a lawyer would keep their most sensitive files to ensure discretion and privacy. You recalled how your late employer, Lee Sungjae, often had his most precious files stashed away in a place that was so obvious that no one would ever assume any person in the right mind would hide such things. For Sungjae, it had been a picture frame on the wall of his office, the one with him and his entire family pictured. It was cute; but when one peered behind it…
There was only one picture frame in the entire office space. It was small and it housed his law degree. You wondered if it was phony.
You decided to give it a chance and reached for it with a gloved hand.
When you took the frame off the wall, a frown slipped onto your face at the solid wall behind it. Huh. It was worth a—
You stepped backward and inhaled sharply when your leg hit the back of his cheap office chair. You managed to right yourself, but your ears had also perked up at a curious sound. You swiftly replaced the frame on the wall and knelt down by the desk chair and twisted your body to peer beneath it.
The sound you had heard had been a soft swish. It was subtle and not at all loud, but thanks to the empty office and your own hearing, you had picked up on it. It was practically a miracle.
Your heart pounded in excitement as you stuck your hand beneath the chair and felt up the bottom. There—you felt a distinct, padded folder—and there—
Your fingers wrapped around a small device no bigger than the palm of your hand. It must have been attached to the bottom of the chair with some kind of tape, and you gave it a good yank. And behold… in your hand was the alleged burner phone, staring up at you, just begging for you to sneak a peek into its logs. But before you could, you removed the file that had been hidden beneath the chair as well. It was a standard manila folder stuffed to the brim with papers and, you assumed, lots of sensitive information. Your eyes were widening like your smile as you just struck gold.
Not too bad for your first time in a while.
You startled at the sound of a thump.
There was a figure, a shadow, standing on the window sill by the end of the desk. He was familiar to you with his dark hair and domino mask, and his red and black uniform. His cape flowed from just off the precipices of his shoulders and hung around the backs of his knees—imposing and regal but not in the way of any movements he made. The Red Robin had stood before you just earlier in the day at Lee Sungjae’s suburban home. He had been the one with the familiar presence to you, along with his… colleague? You didn’t know his and Nightwing’s association or relationship, but you weren’t about to interact long enough to find out.
“Breaking and entering is illegal, y’know,” the masked vigilante mused, and you could just make out the shadow of his smirk in the darkness. “Even at crime scenes.”
You rose from your spot on the floor, slipping the burner into the holster pocket on the garter around your thigh and tucking the file in the crook of your arm. There wasn’t really a place you could hide the chunky piece of shit. Despite your heart palpitating in your chest, you maintained a cool exterior. He didn’t know who you were, and you expected that he wouldn’t be able to recognize your voice since you had only spoken to him once.
“Nothing done in Gotham is illegal,” you replied to him.
His head cocked to the side, arms folding over his chest. “You’re not wrong about that. But…” He nodded at the file folder. “I really can’t let you leave with that.”
Oh, dear god. You needed an escape plan—and fast.
Nothing was coming to mind; it was just get out get out get out! (Very helpful, as always.)
“I’m sure you can make an exception for me,” you said with a mocking pout. “How’d you even know I was here? I didn’t realize Yang Eunhyuk had a connection to Gotham’s exclusive Bat Boys.”
A scoff from him. “He doesn’t. Your luck just happened to be running out, sweetheart.” He stepped off the window sill and entered the office, stalking toward you with slow, methodical steps because he knew you were cornered. You really should have tried that office door when you had the chance.
As you began backing away, you shook his head and tsked. “C’mon,” he coaxed. “Give me the folder.”
“And I can go?” You wondered how fast you could disappear once you flung yourself out of that window.
He smiled. “If you give me that burner, too, sure.”
Your heart stopped for a millisecond. God damn it.
He must have seen the doubt in your eyes, and that fucking smile of his widened. Something about that was tug-tug-tugging a nerve. He stopped walking toward you as you slowly made a move to set the file down on the floor. “Good girl.”
The file flopped onto the wooden floor.
"Slowly," he drawled, eyes glued to your form as he watched your hand move toward the holster pouch.
All the while, you were counting down in your head.
Before he could blink, you swung a leg out and kicked the file back behind Red Robin and toward the window. His head swerved in that direction, and you launched yourself at him before he could realize his mistake.
You kicked at him, one-two, adrenaline pumping through your veins like a virus. He blocked your blows, just as you swung around and made a grab for his mask.
He caught your wrist; you whirled—it was a high stakes tango you had not been prepared for. But you jabbed your elbow behind you, fist flying up toward his nose. Every move you made was desperate and offensive.
You slipped free and ducked, body curling under his arm, under his cape, until you ended up in the flurry of the dark fabric.
The vigilante knew his own cape though. You gave him that much.
He grabbed the opposite end and arced it over your head, arm coming down to wrap you in it—but you threw yourself out of it, landing a swift blow to his shin. Wouldn't do much except make him curse and loosen his grip slightly.
The file was in sight—oh god, it was right the fuck there.
You made a mad dash for it, leaning down slightly and reaching out with your hand—
"Not so fast, kitty—"
You hit the floor with a curse, palms flat against the wood. His foot had hooked around yours and tripped you, his knee set against your back like his own palm as he held you against the floor.
You felt his breath by your ear. "What's in the file, sweetheart?"
"None of your concern," you gritted out, then throwing your head back until you heard and felt that telltale "fuck!" from Red Robin.
You ignored the throbbing in the back of your skull to fling yourself around and throw off his balance again. Your hand dove into your holster pocket to retrieve the small cylinder of mace, then sprayed it in a final move of desperation, breath and chest heaving.
The man sputtered, hand flying up to his mouth as he stumbled backward and tried to eject the chemical from his body. "Dirty fucking move," he spat as you turned tail and made for the file.
Only—
"Looking for this?"
Two others had joined the party, to your absolute horror. Nightwing stood with the file in his hand, while Red Hood—the vigilante from the bank, and supposedly Choi Yeonjun based on your deductions—was perched up on the window sill with zero care in the world.
Well shit.
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permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @meosjinnn @hyunjaespresent-deobi @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @soonyoungblr @loveliestfelix @zhaixiaowen @justanotherkpopstanlol @w3bqrl @kangfication @fluorescentloves @haechansbbg @super-btstrash-posts @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @mars101 @rikizm
series taglist: @winterchimez @mosviqu @boba-beom @strawbrinkofdeath @baek-at-it-again95 @todosmash @loveforred @rocarecs @megseungmin
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