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Christmas tendencies
Yandere!king x fem!reader
Summary: spending Christmas with Edmund can't go wrong<3 can it?
Warnings: Edmund not being nice, in fact being quite naughty, jealousy
Word count: 1.7k
A/N: i thought it'd be a waste to not post this when it was so near completion! So please enjoy and have a merry Christmas if you do celebrate it♡
As if on purpose, the snow has graced the earth for Christmas after not showing itself for the entirety of december. But now, a thick layer of snow covers everything that was once dead and grey. You can’t help but feel excitement. Maybe Christmas with Edmund won’t be hell after all?
You’re standing in one of the gigantic windows, looking out over the castle grounds—the very same you’re not allowed out in. The castle’s gardeners have decorated every bush, every tree, with lights and decorations.
“You’ve been standing here for a good forty five minutes now, my jewel”, Edmund says as he walks over to you, fixing his golden cufflinks. “How much more interesting can it get after ten?”
“You don’t get it”, you reply over your shoulder. “The gardeners have spent a lot of time decorating the grounds, shouldn’t one get to admire their hard work?”
You feel how Edmund comes up behind you, sneaks his arms around your waist and buries his chin into your shoulder.
“The staff has put a great detail into the interior too”, he mumbles. “Why don’t you stare at that for an hour or two?”
You scoff.
“I think it’s pretty”, you reply and turn your eyes out the window again. “With the snow and everything. Besides, I’ve already inspected every decoration inside, I helped hang them up.”
“You did, and it’s very pretty. Just like you. I like your dress.”
It’s a red velvet dress reaching down to the floor with long, cape sleeves.
You turn around to get a look at him. He's wearing a black suit with loose white pieces that puff out. Golden cufflinks and a white bow. His fluffy dark hair has been brushed back, face newly shaven—although there never was anything to shave to begin with.
“You look like you've been tortured”, you joke.
“Haha, funny”, he replies sarcastically, clearly not impressed. “I've told them time and time again that I have an extremely sensitive scalp but no one listens, they force me to do silly hairstyles like this. I think I must have lost at least half of my hair.”
You reach to fix a strand of hair that escaped his hairstyle. You can feel him shudder under your fingertips.
“You’ll live”, you say. “Besides, you look more grown this way.”
“Do I?” Edmund smirks proudly. “Do I look manly?”
“Don’t push it.”
He scoffs.
Weirdly enough, Edmund has agreed on letting you out of the castle today. Just because it's a special day. The townsfolk are having a market that you have begged to visit and who is Edmund to deny your Christmas wish?
“Are you ready, my love?” he asks and takes your hand. “The carriage it out on the front yard. Let’s get this over with.”
“Can’t you at least pretend to be excited?” you ask with a sad pout.
He sighs and rolls his eyes before nodding.
“I’ll have to take a long, scolding bath right after coming back”, he mutters. “Who knows what kind of diseases they can carry? Oh, you’re taking that bath with me, by the way. My Christmas wish.”
He’s like a child when it comes to your bare body, getting eyes wide as moons when he gets to see the most vulnerable parts of you. It confuses you. In his past he has allowed himself to a majority of women and their bodies, so why does he look at you as if he’s never seen it before?
It’s one of the few times you see him without his cocky exterior. He looks at you with eyes of gratitude, as if showing yourself to him is the greatest gift of mankind.
Edmund holds your hand tightly as you walk out to the royal carriage. The driver holds the door open for you, but Edmund insists on helping you up in it. He sits down in front of you. The carriage is decorated with golden details and small cherubs.
“You don’t have to look like you’re being driven to your execution”, you say and raise your eyebrows.
“I’m not happy about this”, he says. “This is something you want.”
“Can’t you be happy for me, then? Please, Eddie?”
His cheeks take on a red tone. The nickname has only been used by you, ever. You gave it to him, you’re the only one that is allowed to say it. The firs time you had said it, he hadn’t known how to react. He had been staring at you with large eyes, wondering what prompted you to give him a nickname when no one else had ever imagined to do such a thing. At first, he was unsure what he thought of the name. He was king Edmund. Had once been prince Edmund. Rarely Edmund. Never Eddie.
“Fine”, he says and clears his throat, trying to play it off. “I’ll try. But don’t call me that when we’re there.”
“Are you scared that the townsfolk will lose respect for you if they hear that you have a cute, little nickname?” you giggle.
Edmund rests his elbows on his knees and leans forward.
“No”, he says, smirking devilishly. “Because I don’t want other people to know what you call out in bed.”
Your jaw hangs open in shock and you grab the pillow behind your back, hitting him. Edmund covers himself with his arms, laughing.
“Watch the hair!” he shouts.
“You didn’t like the hair anyway”, you remind him.
“It’s Christmas, you’re supposed to be nice. Don’t be naughty!”
“Naughty? Who the hell started talking about naughty stuff? You started it!”
Edmund laughed. His blue eyes glittered.
The carriage rolls into the town. You turn your eyes out the window to look at what you’ve been watching from afar. You get out together, Edmund holding onto you so that you don’t fall. The townsfolk keep a distance, knowing that the knights will go to attack if they come to close. Their bright eyes watch on as if they’ve seen something extraordinary. And maybe, you think, for them this is something extraordinary.
Their eyes follow you to the christmas market.
“All eyes are making me shy”, you whisper to Edmund.
“Drink it all in, darling”, Edmund replies quietly. “They worship you, but not as much as I do … and if they try I’m going to kill them.”
“Be quiet!” you hiss.
Edmund scoffs and rubs your back with his hand. You walk through the streets to the town’s square where multiple small sheds are put up, full of candy, baked bread, knitted goods and alcohol. While you walk around chit-chatting with the vendors, Edmund stands close behind you, a hand on you always. A warning, to everyone around you. You are his, and no one is going to forget that—absolutely not you.
You buy something from every stand and insist of carrying it yourself. Edmund can’t understand why you want such … cheap crap. He can give you the same things but done well, made by professionals who cost him a fortune. He doesn’t let you eat anything and keeps a constant, watchful eyes around.
“Smile a bit more, why don’t you?” he mutters in your ear.
His jealousy is like a wildfire, spreading through him quickly and dangerously. With no easy way to stop it.
“Edmund”, you whisper quietly. “Stop it.”
“You bought so much from that man”, he continued. “What did you hope to achieve?”
“Edmund!”
He stays silent the rest of the Christmas market. As soon as you get back to the carriage, he can’t keep quiet anymore.
“Those are so fucking ugly”, says as the door to the carriage closes.
“That is so unnecessarily mean”, you hiss back at him. “They don’t have what you have. They do their best. And, for having as little as they do, I think they look great.”
You hold your new treasures in your lap closely.
“I don’t want to spend more time with you if you’re going to be like this”, you mumble without looking at him.
You’re happy for your new things. But he doesn’t understand. Edmund sighs heavily, clenches his jaw and nods.
“Okay”, he mutters and takes your hands in his. “I’m sorry … but I could have given you so much better things. If you wanted new mittens, I could have given you them. These things … who knows what could actually be in them?”
You put on the hand knitted mittens.
“Take them off”, Edmund says, but he doesn’t sound angry or demanding like before. “Darling, my jewel, I’m serious. I don’t want you getting a rash, or something.”
“We’re taking a bath when we get back, don’t we?”
Edmund sighs and gives up. You hold up your hands.
“Aren’t they kind of cute?” you ask. “A little?”
“Fuck no.”
“What if I had made them?”
“You wouldn’t have. If you had knitted mittens, they’d be a thousand times better.”
“You are so mean.” You keep your eyes on your hands. “You were jealous out there too.”
“Of them? Of those filthy peasants?”
“Of those men.”
Edmund leans back in his seat, jaw tightening.
“Men”, he scoffs and turns his head towards the window. “I wouldn’t call them ‘men’.”
“Childish jealousy doesn’t look good on a king”, you point out.
“You like it when I’m childish though. You laugh, whether you want to admit it or not.”
“You don’t need to be jealous over them. I don’t know them.”
“Everyone wants you. And it makes me sick.”
“Everyone wants you too.”
“They want to be me. But they want you. And I will never let that happen. You are mine.”
“I know. You’re the last person to let me forget that.”
When you get back to the castle, the two of you walk straight to the bathroom where the maids have poured a hot bubble bath that is burning to the touch. Edmund holds you close to him in his arms.
The rest of the day is spent in the big living room, in front of the gigantic christmas tree that needed a dozen workers to decorate. Edmund wanted the entire town to be able to see the lights from his tree.
“Merry Christmas, my love”, he says and holds out a red box.
You remove the wrapping smd open the box, finding a necklace with large, round pearls. It's heavy in your hands, and even heavier around your neck.
“These pears cost me quite a lot”, Edmund says and touches the pearls carefully. “But they're cheap in comparison to what my love for you is worth.”
And he means it. He really does.
#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere drabbles#yandere oc x you#yandere oc x reader#yandere oc#yandere king#female reader
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Bucktommy Ι WC: 3400 Ι Christmas fic Ι cw: unintentional self-harm
I might have some kind of fixation with writing them drunk but well... I love seeing them messy and pathetic sue me 😞
also on ao3
"Bar fights on Christmas Eve. Why is this a thing?" Hen muttered.
Eddie adjusted his gloves, surveying the scene. "Maybe Santa didn’t bring what they wanted."
Chimney chuckled. "Or someone sang ‘Last Christmas’ one too many times."
Buck stayed quiet, his mind already churning with a mix of irritation and exhaustion. As they approached, a police officer waved them over.
"This one’s yours... I think," the officer said, jerking his thumb toward someone sitting on the curb. Buck’s stomach sank as soon as he recognized the messy mop of dark hair.
"Tommy?" Buck’s voice came out in disbelief.
Hen tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. "Oh no.”
Tommy looked up, his face marked with a bruise along his cheekbone and a faint cut near his eyebrow. His hair was disheveled, his shirt wrinkled and slightly damp as if someone had spilled a drink on him. Despite all of this, he grinned widely. "Heyyyyy! Look who’s here! Evan! No Buck!! My favorite ex!"
Chimney blinked, caught between disbelief and amusement. "Okay, Christmas just got interesting."
Buck groaned, already dreading whatever explanation was coming. "What happened?"
Tommy tried moving, the cuffs clinking as he gestured grandly. "Do you know how great you are, Evan? You’re like—like Santa, but with better arms!"
"Okay, he’s drunk," Eddie said, trying—and failing—to hide his amusement.
Hen smirked. "No kidding, detective."
The officer sighed. "Bar fight broke out. He didn’t throw any punches, but he got hit, refused medical attention, and wouldn’t leave when we asked. Kept insisting he was fine."
"I am fine," Tommy slurred, his voice betraying just how much he wasn’t. "They didn’t mean it. They were just… passionate about pool tables."
Eddie raised an eyebrow. "They punched you in the face."
"And the ribs," Tommy added cheerfully. "But I didn’t hit back! Isn’t that the Christmas spirit?"
Chimney snorted, already enjoying this far more than he should. "You got sucker-punched, and your takeaway is holiday cheer?"
"Forgiveness is key, Howie," Tommy declared dramatically. He leaned back slightly, his cuffs clinking. "I’m basically a saint."
Hen crouched in front of him, tilting her head. "How much did you drink?"
Tommy squinted, holding up his fingers. "Two? Maybe four? Could be six. Math’s hard."
The officer crossed his arms, visibly irritated. "He was trying to mediate, but when things got heated, one of the guys turned on him. Said something about him 'looking smug'—whatever that means."
Tommy perked up. "I do look smug! It’s my default face."
"Congratulations," Buck muttered. "You got punched for your great personality."
Hen smirked. "To be fair, it’s a punchable face."
"Thanks, Hen. Love you too," Tommy shot back, swaying slightly. "But seriously, I didn’t even fight back. I just told them to calm down, and, bam, fist to the face. It was… educational."
Eddie crossed his arms. "You learned nothing."
"I learned not to stand too close to drunk strangers holding beer bottles," Tommy said wisely.
The officer announced. "Look, if you can take him off our hands, I’m willing to let him go. Just… keep him out of trouble."
Tommy perked up. "See? I’m very cooperative. Just ask—what’s your name again? Officer Friendly?"
Buck said shocked and unbelieving “Let him go? You said he didn’t even hit back! Why is he even cuffed?? Why didn’t you just let him leave?”
The officer shrugged. "He was being stubborn. Kept saying he was fine, didn’t need help, and that he was 'the spirit of Christmas.' You try reasoning with that."
Tommy nodded proudly. "I am the spirit of Christmas. Forgiveness, love, and mild head injuries."
Chimney shook his head, grinning. "Oh, this is gold. Someone should write this down."
Eddie crouched beside Tommy, examining his bruised face. "Doesn’t look like it’s broken, but you’ll need an ice pack.”
The officer muttered something under his breath while uncuffing him, and Eddie stood up to help Tommy stand.
"You’re lucky they didn’t haul you in," Eddie said, steadying him. "But seriously, you okay?"
Tommy waved a hand, swaying slightly. "Never better. Just a little… dented."
"Dented," Buck repeated, his jaw tightening as he noticed the way Tommy flinched when Eddie accidentally brushed his side. "We’re checking those ribs now.”
Tommy looked at him with an exaggerated pout. "Evan, you’re still bossy. I missed that."
Buck rolled his eyes, biting back the mix of worry and frustration bubbling inside him. "Let’s go."
Tommy suddenly leaned toward Buck, sniffing dramatically. "You smell good. Like cookies. Did you bake? You totally baked."
"Sit down, Tommy," Buck said, guiding him toward the ambulance. "And stop sniffing me."
"Can we keep him like this?" Hen asked. "He’s much more entertaining."
"Yeah, it’s like finding a unicorn," Eddie added. "Drunk, unfiltered Tommy. Never thought I’d see the day."
Once Tommy was helped into the ambulance, Buck followed close behind, his jaw tight with concern. Tommy sat on the gurney, looking dazed but still trying to joke.
"See? I’m fine. You’re overreacting. Classic Evan."
"Take your shirt off," Buck said, already pulling gloves on. "We need to check for bruising."
Tommy leaned back against the gurney, his grin widening lazily. "Oooh you are a medic now? If you wanted to see me shirtless, you could’ve just asked. No need for the whole Christmas emergency."
"Tommy, stop," Buck said, exasperated, his voice sharp with worry. "Just let me check."
Tommy shook his head, folding his arms defiantly. "Nope. Not letting you play doctor."
Hen stepped in, putting a hand on Buck’s shoulder. "Let the professionals handle this, Buck."
"I can handle it," Buck argued, his eyes fixed on Tommy. "He’s hurt."
Chimney appeared on Buck’s other side, smirking. "He’s always been stubborn. You’re not gonna win this one. Let us do our job."
Buck hesitated, his hands falling to his sides as Hen gently nudged him out of the way. She crouched in front of Tommy, her voice calm but commanding. "Alright, Tommy. You don’t get a choice. Shirt off, now."
Tommy sighed dramatically, wincing slightly as he pulled off his jacket and shirt. Underneath, dark bruises were spreading across his ribs and a faint red mark lingered along his shoulder.
Hen frowned. "That looks nasty. You’re definitely going to the hospital."
"It’s just a bruise," Tommy said with a wave of his hand. "Tough guy stuff, you know."
Chimney raised an eyebrow. "Tough guys don’t take punches like that without flinching. Which you did, by the way."
"That’s because I’m cool under pressure," Tommy said with exaggerated flair.
Buck, standing nearby, crossed his arms tightly, his jaw set. "Cool under pressure doesn’t mean you don’t need help. You’re going to the hospital, Tommy."
Tommy tilted his head toward Buck, his smile turning genuine.
Buck didn’t wait for him to speak, his eyes flicking to the bruises before meeting Tommy’s gaze. "Let’s just get you taken care of."
Hen cleared her throat. "Alright, playtime’s over. Chim, get the monitor. We’re not taking chances with those ribs."
Tommy slumped back against the gurney, his grin faint but still there. "You guys really are like family. Dysfunctional, but family. Awesome."
As Hen and Chimney worked, Buck hovered nearby, his concern palpable. Tommy—even drunk—noticed, his voice softening. "Hey, Evan. I’m okay."
"You don’t look okay," Buck said, his voice clipped.
"But I will be," Tommy murmured. "Thanks… to you and all of you."
The ambulance hummed quietly as it crossed the dark streets, the faint sound of sirens cutting through the stillness. Buck sat on the bench across from Tommy, his eyes fixed on him as Hen drove and Chimney worked on notes up front. Tommy leaned back against the gurney, arms folded across his chest, his bruised face turned toward the ceiling.
"You going to tell me what happened?" Buck asked, breaking the silence.
Tommy tilted his head, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "What? Didn’t the officer give you the play-by-play? It’s pretty simple, guy punches me, I forgive him, everyone moves on."
Buck’s jaw tightened. "That’s not what I meant."
"Well, you gotta be more specific, Evan," Tommy said, the grin widening. "I’ve had a lot of adventures tonight. Bar fights, karaoke, getting arrested… It’s been a full Christmas Eve."
Buck leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "I mean why you were even there. Why were you drinking alone? Why did you let someone hit you and just—wave it off?"
Tommy shrugged, his expression still light. "Maybe I was spreading Christmas cheer. You know, turn the other cheek and all that."
"Tommy," Buck said, his voice sharper now, "this isn’t funny."
"Neither are you, but we all have our flaws," Tommy quipped, winking. "Come on, lighten up. It’s Christmas."
Buck’s patience frayed. "You’re covered in bruises and sitting in an ambulance, and you’re joking. Why can’t you just be serious now for five minutes?"
The grin on Tommy’s face faltered, and he turned his head away, looking at the far wall of the ambulance. His voice, when it came, was quieter. "Because serious didn’t help."
The tension in the small space grew, and for a moment, neither of them said anything. Buck exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his face, trying to rein in his frustration. His eyes drifted to Tommy again, and that’s when he noticed it—his eyes, red and puffy, like he’d been crying before the fight.
"Tommy…" Buck started, his voice softer. "Have you been—"
"Don’t," Tommy interrupted, his tone flat. "Just… don’t."
Buck fell silent, studying him closer. The faint hollows beneath Tommy’s cheekbones were more pronounced than he remembered, and the way his jacket hung slightly looser over his frame caught his attention. He wasn’t skinny, but he was leaner—more muscular, yes, but not in a healthy way. It looked like someone who’d been skipping meals and pushing too hard.
"You’re not eating enough," Buck said, the words slipping out before he could stop them.
Tommy glanced at him, his expression unreadable. "Didn’t realize you were also a nutritionist now."
Buck’s concern only deepened. "You’re overworking yourself. You’ve always done that, but this—this is different."
Tommy’s jaw tightened, and he looked away again, his voice barely audible. "I’m fine, Evan."
"No, you’re not," Buck shot back, but Tommy didn’t respond. He stayed quiet, his gaze fixed on the window as the city lights blurred by.
After a long stretch of silence, Tommy murmured so quietly that Buck almost missed it. "I HATE Christmas. Stupid captain—‘You are taking Christmas off, Kinard.’ Stupid, stupid."
Buck glanced at him, startled by the soft admission. Tommy’s head lolled slightly to the side, and his eyes were heavy-lidded, but the slurred bitterness in his tone cut through the haze of drunkenness.
“Stupid Christmas. Stupid captain made me take it off. What else was I supposed to do?”
"Tommy…" Buck started, but Tommy didn’t look at him. Instead, he muttered something unintelligible and leaned back against the gurney, his expression shutting down entirely.
The ambulance fell silent again, save for the faint hum of the engine. Buck leaned back against the bench, his hands gripping his knees as he tried to process what Tommy had said—or what he didn’t say. He wanted to push, to get answers, but the look on Tommy’s face—the shut-down, closed-off expression—stopped him. For now, at least.
…
The fluorescent lights in the hospital room buzzed as the doctor stood at the foot of Tommy’s bed, flipping through his chart. Tommy sat up slightly, one hand rubbing his forehead as he squinted at the doctor. He was more coherent now, though his eyes still held a hint of fatigue.
“Here’s what we’re looking at,” the doctor began. “Bruised cheek bone, two stitches on the cut above your eyebrow, bruised ribs, and—” he paused, giving Tommy a pointed look, “—a mild concussion. Turns out you did hit your head during the fight. But with how drunk you were, it wasn’t immediately obvious if it was the alcohol or a concussion causing your symptoms.”
Tommy groaned, leaning back against the pillows. “Great. So I’m a walking disaster. Is that what you’re saying?”
The doctor didn’t smile. “I’m saying we’re keeping you overnight for observation. It’s standard with head injuries, and given your condition—”
“I’m fine,” Tommy interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. “Look, thanks for the concern, but I don’t need to stay here. I just need some water, maybe a snack, and I’ll be out of your hair.”
The doctor raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “You have a concussion and bruised ribs. This isn’t up for debate.”
“Debate? Come on,” Tommy said, his voice edging on pleading. “I’ve had worse. I’m a firefighter, I know what I’m saying. Just let me go home, and I’ll sleep it off.”
“You’re staying,” Buck’s voice cut through the room before the doctor could respond.
Tommy turned his head sharply, his tired eyes narrowing. “Why are you even here?” he snapped. “Just go. You got me checked in, that’s enough. Thank you very much!”
Buck didn’t flinch, didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he took a step closer, the tension in his face eased, despite the frustration still lingering in his voice. “I’m not going anywhere. And you’re staying the night. End of discussion.”
Tommy scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest before wincing as the motion aggravated his bruised ribs. “Unbelievable. You think you can just waltz in here and—”
“Tommy,” Buck interrupted again. “You need to rest. Stop arguing.”
For a moment, Tommy just stared at him, his jaw clenched tightly, but he didn’t have the energy to keep up the fight. He let out a frustrated sigh, looking away. “Fine. Whatever.”
Buck nodded once, then turned toward the door. “I’m going to tell everyone your state and that you’re staying the night.”
That stopped Tommy cold. “Everyone?” His voice was sharper now, his head snapping back toward Buck.
Buck paused, glancing over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. “Everyone who needs to know.”
…
When Buck came back Tommy was lying back against the pillows, his face slightly turned to one side. His breathing was slow but uneven, like he was trying to stay awake despite the pull of exhaustion. Buck sat in the chair beside the bed, scrolling through his phone, his leg bouncing slightly in nervous habit.
Minutes passed, the quiet of the hospital only broken by the occasional beep from the monitor. Tommy stirred slightly, his eyes fluttering open. For a moment, he just lay there, staring at Buck, who hadn’t noticed he was awake. Tommy’s gaze lingered on him, taking in the familiar slope of his shoulders, the furrow of his brow as he focused on his screen. Finally, Tommy sighed, his voice soft and scratchy.
“Another Christmas at the hospital. Old habits die hard, huh?”
Buck’s head snapped up, startled. “Uh, you woke up.”
Tommy smiled faintly, shifting slightly on the bed. “Yeah, happens sometimes.”
Buck leaned forward, tucking his phone away. “How are you feeling? Do you need anything? Should I call the doctor?”
Tommy shook his head and immediately regretted it, wincing as pain shot through his temple. “Ow. Nope. Definitely no head shaking.”
Buck stood quickly, his concern sharpening. “You okay? Want me to get someone?”
“I’m fine,” Tommy said, his voice sharp. He looked at Buck and gave a small, sheepish smile. “Thanks for staying, though. Uh… sorry about your shift.”
Buck moved to stand beside the bed, waving it off casually. “Bobby gave me the rest off. I’ll cover another shift later. It’s fine.”
Tommy winced again as he shifted to sit up a little straighter. “Yeah, sorry… you know you didn’t have to.”
Buck’s expression relaxed, but there was a weight to his gaze as he looked down at Tommy. For a moment, neither of them said anything. Then, without warning, Buck reached out, his hand brushing gently against Tommy’s bruised cheek.
Tommy froze, startled by the touch. His instinct was to lean back, but instead, he found himself leaning into Buck’s palm, almost without thinking. “Uh, what…”
“Tommy... you’re hurt,” Buck said, his voice quiet and firm.
Tommy blinked at him, then let out a soft, breathy laugh. “Duh.”
Buck didn’t move his hand, his thumb grazing just below the cut near Tommy’s eyebrow. “No, Tommy,” he said, his voice heavier now. “You’re hurt.”
The words landed with a weight that seemed to knock the air out of the room. Tommy stared up at him, his expression unreadable, until his eyes began to glisten. He blinked rapidly, turning his face slightly to avoid Buck’s gaze. “I’m fine,” he murmured.
“You’re not,” Buck said, lowering his hand but not stepping away. “And you don’t have to pretend with me.”
Tommy swallowed hard, his jaw tightening as he tried to push the emotion back down. “It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he said finally.
Buck pulled the chair closer and sat down his eyes drifted to the bruises shadowing Tommy’s cheek and the faint red line where the stitches had been placed, “You don’t always have to handle it alone, you know. You can… let someone in. Let me in.”
For a long moment, Tommy didn’t respond. Then he exhaled slowly, leaning his head back against the pillow.
“I think I forgot how.” his voice quiet, almost fragile. It was the kind of admission that wasn’t meant to be heard aloud.
Buck’s chest tightened at the words. He gave a faint, sad smile. “Then we’ll figure it out.”
Tommy’s gaze flicked toward him, a flicker of something in his eyes—doubt, maybe hope, but definitely vulnerability. It wasn’t a side of Tommy Buck had seen often, and it wasn’t one Tommy would have willingly shown under normal circumstances. But here, under the dim hospital lights, stripped of his usual defenses, he couldn’t hide.
Tommy shifted slightly, his fingers absentmindedly brushing the edge of the hospital blanket, where Buck's hand rested. “You’re stubborn, you know that?” he muttered, his tone lighter now, though the exhaustion still lingered.
Buck let out a small laugh. “Takes one to know one.”
Tommy smirked faintly at that, but the expression didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I don’t know why you’re still here.”
Buck leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Because you need someone to be.”
Tommy swallowed hard, his jaw tightening. “I don’t know if I deserve that.”
Buck’s response was immediate, no hesitation in it. “You do.”
For a moment, Tommy said nothing, his eyes drifting toward the window, where the faint glow of the city lights filtered through the blinds. “I’m not good at this,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Buck straightened slightly, his gaze steady and unwavering. “You don’t have to be. I told you we’ll figure it out together.”
Tommy looked at him again, his lips pressing into a thin line as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words. Instead, he nodded—just a small, almost imperceptible movement—and leaned his head back against the pillow once more.
Buck hesitated, then said quietly, “Uh… Merry Christmas…?”
The words seemed to break something loose in Tommy. He suddenly sat up, his movements sharp and panicked, a decision he regretted immediately. His face contorted in pain as he squeezed his eyes shut, a wince escaping his lips. “Shit,” he hissed, his hand instinctively clutching his side. “Shit, Evan, it’s Christmas!”
Buck blinked, caught off guard by the outburst. “Tommy—”
“You should be with your family, not in a hospital!” Tommy’s voice cracked slightly, and his hands trembled as he rubbed at his face. His breathing hitched, and for a moment, it looked like he was on the verge of tears. “I didn’t mean to— You shouldn’t be— God, this is all—”
“Tommy,” Buck interrupted softly, standing and taking a step closer to the bed.
Tommy shook his head, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You should be with your family. Or—hell, with the 118—they’re your family anyway.”
Buck sighed, ducking his head for a moment as he tried to steady himself. Then, with quiet determination, he moved closer, cupping Tommy’s face with both hands and gently forcing him to meet his gaze.
“Tommy,” he said firmly, his voice steady and filled with certainty. “Don’t you get it? I am exactly where I want to be.”
#bucktommy#tommy kinard#evan buckley#i needed to get this out of my head#okay last drunk fic for them#no promises tho lol#*
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Merry Sinsmas
Alastor x Reader
Just a little thought I'd like to share with you because I’m in the Christmas mood.
I hope you enjoy reading it and if you celebrate Christmas: I wish you a Merry Christmas. And if you don't: I hope you have a great few days anyway. :)
And to all of you: Merry Sinsmas. :D
Warning: I hope you don't mind that this short story briefly mentions that you are from Germany. If you can't identify with this, just see this sentence as a joke to wriggle out of a situation.
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You're standing in the hotel lobby with a clipboard in your hand, working through a to-do list. You are in the middle of your Christmas preparations. Charlie and Vaggie are busy decorating the big tree in the centre of the lobby next to the stairs, Niffty is cleaning and judging by her crazy laugh, she's in a very Christmassy mood.
Lucifer is tending to the fairy lights, Husk is making punch for everyone and Angel and Cherri Bomb are getting the sound system ready.
As you stare at your clipboard, thinking about what you could do next, you notice out of the corner of your eye a shadow rise from the floor and stand next to you.
You don't even have to lift your eyes to realise that it's Alastor, standing so close to you that his large body is pressed against you.
You hear a snap of fingers, but you skilfully ignore it.
You're too busy dealing with the fact that the radio demon is invading your comfort zone - as he so often does.
It doesn't take long before he clears his throat meaningfully, inviting you to give him your attention.
So you raise your eyes and suppress your annoyed expression as best you can.
You look at him expectantly. What does he want?
He looks down at you with a mischievous smile. Then he takes a quick look at the ceiling before his eyes wander back to you.
You look up and see a sprig of mistletoe hanging directly above you, obviously conjured up by him.
You sigh slightly.
So he wants to be kissed.
Alastor is really trying everything he can to get to you. You realise that he's been trying to make advances to you for months and win your heart with small - and also very large - gestures.
What you keep to yourself the whole time: He won your heart a long time ago. But you don't want to admit it.
Yes, you fancy Alastor - oh, you're so in love with him!
But your fear of commitment and the fact that he's one of the most dangerous demons here in hell stop you from getting involved with him.
Much to the displeasure of your friends, because the tension between Alastor and you has left its mark on them too and now they really want to see you two as a couple.
"Hahaaaa, there's a little green branch hanging right above us. What funny coincidences there are, aren't there, my dear?" he says euphorically in his radio filter voice.
"Real coincidences, yes," you reply sarcastically and leave it at that. At least that's what you try to do, but there's no way Alastor will let you get away with it.
He steps closer to you - it's hard to believe that's still possible - leans forward slightly and says: "You know I'm a man of tradition. In my day, we followed every custom without even batting an eyelid. It would be a shame for me and my inner well-being if you didn't appreciate my traditions, sweetheart."
You give him a wry, cheeky grin. Then you turn away from him and say: "Well, it's just a shame that I'm from Germany and this mistletoe tradition isn't practised there."
You move away from him and leave him standing there in his indignant static noise.
"OH NO, DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!" Angel suddenly shouts across the lobby. He jumps up from his chair and stomps angrily towards you, grabs you by the shoulders, spins you around and pushes you back on your heels under the mistletoe, where he sets you down right in front of the radio demon.
He grumbles: "We're not in fucking Germany here, we're in hell! And here ya don't just kiss under the mistletoe, here ya even fuck when ye're standin' under it! So do yerself and us a favour and respect our traditions! Ya kiss that creepy man now, understand?"
#alastor#alastor the radio demon#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel#radio demon#alastor imagine#fanfiction#alastor x oc#fanfic#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#alastor x you#alastor fanfiction#alastor hazbin#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor hazbin hotel x reader#alastor radio demon#hazbin alastor x reader#the radio demon#hazbin hotel x reader
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Oh, I'm sorry, but my ideas for Leclerc's stepsister are in my head and there are so many of them, I don't have the nerve to send them all, but... I just want her to be very different from baby Sainz, she was very independent, hardly accepted help, was a little (and sometimes a lot) shy, defiant, but at the same time for the Leclair brothers she was a princess, and their parents wanted to enjoy the fact that everything was fine
With love from CH 💜
Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!
- xoxo babygirl ♥️
No Part 2!
Independent, but Loved
It was a typical sunny afternoon in Monaco, and the house was alive with the sound of chatter and laughter. Yn was sitting cross-legged on the couch, her manicured nails clicking against her phone screen as she scrolled through her social media feed. The comments on her latest post were already piling up.
@queenYnislife: “She fixed her car and still looks better than me. HOW??”
@monaco_royalty: “Yn, the real princess of Monaco. Bow down, everyone.”
She smirked at the comments and tapped her nails thoughtfully against her chin. "You know," she said, her voice laced with playful sarcasm, "I should start a DIY YouTube channel. 'Fixing Cars with Yn.' I'd show everyone how to slay while being a mechanic."
From across the living room, Arthur groaned. "Yn, you didn't fix the car."
She raised an eyebrow at her 19-year-old stepbrother, her dark brown eyes sparkling with mischief. "Excuse me, mechanic Arthur. I literally fixed it myself. My nails were covered in grease for days!"
Lorenzo, the oldest at 25, laughed as he walked into the room, carrying a tray of drinks. "Oh, princesa, you really think that car is still the same one?"
Yn frowned. "What do you mean?"
Arthur leaned forward, unable to suppress his grin. "We got you a new car."
Her jaw dropped. "No, you didn't!"
"Yes, we did," Lorenzo confirmed with a shrug, his grin widening. "Do you honestly think you ‘fixed’ a blown engine with a wrench and some nail polish remover?"
Charles, who had just walked in after a training session, leaned against the doorway with an amused look. "To be fair, you were very convincing with your grease-smudged selfies."
Yn stared at her brothers, utterly scandalized. "Wait a second. You mean all my TikToks about ‘fixing’ the car were based on a lie?"
Arthur snorted. "Pretty much, yeah."
"You guys distracted me?" Yn accused, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at Charles.
Charles threw his hands up in mock surrender. "Guilty. But it was Lorenzo's idea!"
Lorenzo chuckled, clearly unbothered. "You deserved a better car, princesa. That old one wasn’t safe anymore."
Yn crossed her arms and pouted, her glossy lips forming a perfect little scowl. "You could have told me instead of treating me like a clueless baby."
"You're not clueless," Arthur said quickly, his tone softening. "We just wanted to make sure you were safe. You know we only do these things because we care about you, right?"
Her pout melted into a small smile. "Fine. But I'm still mad that you lied to me."
"We'll make it up to you," Charles promised. "How about dinner on me tonight? Wherever you want."
"Anywhere?"
"Anywhere."
Yn grinned, her previous annoyance already forgotten. "Okay, but you’re paying for dessert too."
"Deal," Charles said, ruffling her hair.
---
That evening, as they all sat around a table at Yn’s favorite restaurant, their parents, Pascal and João, joined in on the fun. Pascal raised his glass, a proud smile on his face. "To my incredible children. I love seeing how well you all take care of each other."
"Even if it means pulling off elaborate car heists," Yn teased, earning a round of laughter from everyone at the table.
João, always the peacemaker, smiled warmly at her. "They just want to make sure you're happy and safe, filha."
"I know," Yn said, her voice softening. "And I love you guys for it. But don’t think this gets you off the hook for messing with me."
Arthur rolled his eyes. "Great, here we go."
Yn smirked, leaning back in her chair like the queen she was. "Just wait until I prank you back. The internet will love it."
Lorenzo groaned. "Please, no more viral chaos."
"You should know by now," Yn said with a wink, "I am chaos."
Charles sighed dramatically. "And we wouldn’t have it any other way."
As the evening went on, the teasing and laughter continued. Yn, their sarcastic and fiercely independent little sister, was their princess. And while she might never let them forget their sneaky car replacement, the love and bond between them was unshakeable.
They were, after all, family.
#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#xoxo babygirl 💋#charles leclerc x reader#arthur leclerc x leclerc!reader#arthur leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x leclerc!reader#leclerc!reader#charles leclerc x sister!reader
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Materials for spinning/weaving/knitting/crochet/etc are also generally quite expensive in the quantity needed for garments, but if you keep an eye out for people's destash stuff it's better.
Spinning is the slowest part of making any garment from scratch. Look at any of the back to back / sheep to jumper/sweater competitions and see the ratio of spinners to knitters. That said, spinning is very accessible and simple (particularly if you're spinning the most common kinds of wool), and once you've got the muscle memory built up it's quite mindless.
If you buy second hand looms or spinning wheels at an op shop or estate sale or otherwise not from the person who used it, be aware that it may require fixing up before use. Again, your local Spinners and Weavers Guild is the place to go for help and advice. I go to the same guild that @madanimalscientist goes to in Brisbane, and I've been going there on and off since 2002. If you're in Australia and want help finding your local guild I'm happy to give it a go!
A note about the poor quality commercial clothing thing - it is so true. I've been doing a lot of wardrobe culling lately and pulling so many dead clothes out. But now that I weave (I've only been weaving the past few years, I was a spinner and knitter long before that), I've started turning all the cheap dead clothes I have into rag rugs! My house is cosier, my cats love them, and it's a lot longer until all that poor-quality fabric ends up in landfill. If you haven't already, I highly recommend watching the ABC's The War On Waste show for some great material (pun intended) on the fast fashion waste problem, which is very much tied to the fast fashion poor quality problem.
I'm so pissed right now. I know that fabric has been declining in quality for a while but I just bought new pajamas from kmart and they are literally see through. Not just through one layer of fabric either; I can see through the leg, that is, through 2 layers of fabric. These aren't clothes. I am not exaggerating when I say that I have strained soup through cheesecloth thicker than these pants. These are men's flannel pajamas, the kind people wear in winter, and they are made if shittier thinner fabric than even the most bargain bin bullshit halloween costumes. This "flannel" feels like plastic and is thinner than a chux wipe. Why is this even for sale.
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Mafioso
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Warnings: Murder, manipulation, drugs and violence
Terry Richmond X OC!Marina
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The collective clink of champagne glasses filled the large venue as self-made millionaire and philanthropist Terry Richmond concluded his speech at the second annual charity event for Black women and children. Thunderous claps and cheers bounced off the walls as he exited the stage and came down to thank each and every single person that had come out to support and donate to the amazing cause. He was elated and proud of the turnout; truly grateful.
At 43 Terry felt at the height of his career. The comings and goings of life reflected well on his face and he carried all those trials and triumphs with him on his sleeve next to his heart. His story was a story of the people.
The night was a huge success. A large volume of high profile people had pledged and donated to this cause right along with him. Close family and friends came out in support and he circled around the room checking in on them and taking breaks to hit a shimmy or two on the dance floor.
He had also allowed some of his favorite black journalists and reporters to give interviews, but he was most interested in one in particular that had been very vocal and fierce about the safety of black children in spaces that society deemed not fit for them. How many times had a black child been harmed or put in a traumatic situation due to racism? Far too many times to count and they deserved a space to perfect their crafts without fear or judgement.
Marina Evans was a woman of poise, integrity, and culture, and at 25 she was at the top of her game. Not many could deny her journalistic credentials. She was the first person he wanted to give an interview to tonight and he sought her out quickly through the sea of people. The bold black gown had been a wondrous choice against her bronzed skin. Honey blond braids highlighting the warm undertones of her skin and dark expressive eyes styled with a natural set of wispy lashes. She was a show stopper. A true beauty.
She had just ended an interview with Weston Troy, a filthy rich middle aged man that owned a few hospitals in the area. Her eyes drifted over to him and she began to set up for his interview. A warm welcoming smile graced her face and he made sure to return it. Cameras and microphone ready, Terry adjusted his black suit and freed his mind.
“Tonight I am here speaking with local philanthropist and founder of ‘Hearts of Grace’ a charity founded to give aid and relief to underprivileged families…and without further ado I’d like to welcome Mr. Terry Richmond. How are you feeling about the turnout tonight… did you project the earnings for year two to surpass year one by so much?”
“ I’m feeling amazing tonight, the turnout was more than I could have ever imagined. When I initially started this charity I had no idea that anyone would ever give money to the cause at such a high volume, it's too often that things within the affiliation of the black community are not taken seriously or into consideration… I would like to change that, and with all the resources at my hand I'd be foolish not to invest it into people who look like me and sound like me.”
“I love that, what you did here tonight was jaw dropping. The kind of things I want to see more of, what does it mean for you to give back and support black families,businesses, and neighborhoods?” He pondered a bit before answering and pulled his lip from his teeth.
“It means that I have an opportunity to cater to and serve these underprivileged families, I too come from very humble beginnings. I grew up in a single parent household, it was just me and my mother so sharing this wealth with many people is top priority.”
“Terry, that is just amazing, I’m excited for more people to hear your story… for you it's been a long time coming, but for many of us this is our first time seeing someone who we relate to so much do as many great things as you have…and that brings me to my next question. How does being a role model to the younger generation speak to you?” Her questions were definitely living up to her reputation, she asked the real shit and he paused to gather his words, this was a passionate subject for him so finding the right words was essential.
“Being a role model for the younger generation entails a particular type of character and finesse… I want them to know that yes hard work and dedication can afford you the luxuries of life, but I also want them to understand that mental health is just as important um..if not more important than any career field or industry they choose.”
“I also saw that you named your charity after your mother Grace, how does it feel tonight to share this with her… I’m sure she is so proud of you.”
“My mother means the world to me…for any time I was ever in trouble or needed her she picked up the phone, she lifted me up, and she molded me into the man I am today. I don’t care how old I get or how many things I achieve, I'll always be her baby.”
“It was such a pleasure to interview you tonight, I thank you so much for taking the time out of your busy schedule to allow me to talk and pick your brain.” Marina had interviewed many men and women of different backgrounds and profiles, but none had ever struck her as truly genuine people quite as he did. He truly meant those words.
“Oh no anytime..you’ve had the best questions I thank you for that. And when I’m ready for another interview I know how to find you, thank you for coming out tonight Ms.Evans I truly appreciate it.” Terry left it plainly at that. He didn’t wanna seem weird by telling the young girl that he was an avid viewer of her podcast and hadn’t missed any episodes thus far.
The night carried on and people filled their bellies to the brim with liquor and a catered banquet of savory mouth watering food. Terry was on his second plate of food and had been cackling loudly in his mothers ear, all tipsy and giggly from the constant glasses of champagne.
“Boy you are just tickled to death ain’t you, what’s so funny son?” He rested his head onto her shoulder and squeezed her into a warm hug.
“I’m just happy ma..that’s it. Tonight turned out amazing and I get to honor you right along with it..I hope you’re proud.”
“Son is proud even the word for what I feel? You make me ecstatic, I hoped and prayed for so many long nights for you to have something…anything to call your own, and look at you now.” Grace pressed a kiss to her son's forehead before standing from her seat.
“Walk your mama to her car, I’m going to turn in for the night.”
Terry walked his mother to her car and watched her disappear into the distance before he walked back into the building. Standing with his hands in the pockets of his smooth slacks, he surveyed the area with calm eyes. He was looking for someone. Ahh there she is. Honey blond braids swaying gently behind her as she rocked in her chair to the music. Headed in her direction he grabbed a freshly poured glass of champagne from the table and handled the delicate glass in his hands carefully.
Cognac eyes met his as he finally made it into her line of vision. “Champagne? I wasn’t aware you were still here Ms.Evans.” Her pretty manicured hand accepted the drink from him and she sipped a little before answering him.
“Yeah I guess I’m a bit of a recluse…I prefer to fade into the background at events like these. Sometimes it’s better to just watch.” Terry hummed in his throat before taking a seat in front of her crossing his left leg over his right.
“And on that point we do agree…for causes such as these I can show up no questions asked, otherwise I’m home nose deep in a good podcast.” His deep rumbling laugh coaxed a cute chuckle from her mouth.
She sipped a little more of the sweet champagne before she answered him. ”Oh wow me too , so you have a favorite one you listen too?”
“Yes…yours. It’s the only one I can sit through and enjoy without a missed episode. You’re great at what you do Ms.Evans…very captivating topics.” Terry watched a hand press to her chest in shock as her mouth fell in shock.
“You watch lil ole’ me, wow Terry I really appreciate that. And I try to make things interesting as well as informative… I'm happy it reaches you well.”
“There’s nothing little about the work you do, remember that.” Maria shyly tilted her head to the side, peeking up into his face from under her lashes.
”Thank you so much Terry, you have the kindest eyes by the way…sorry if that was weird.” He dropped his head and let his eyes lock onto hers and watched her skin heat up under his gaze.
“No no, not weird at all. I receive that..thank you beautiful.”
Terry enjoyed picking her head for the reminder of their time together. By 9pm the event had wrapped and everyone filed out of the large double doors to head home. Terrys large hand graced the small of her back not wanting to lose her in the crowd of people, he hated that their time was cut short because he had really enjoyed chatting with the smart woman.
“Did you drive here?” He looked down at her once they’d made it outside, the middle of people around them creating the perfect bubble for tj to talk.
“Mhmh I did.. I’m right over there, the black Acura.” Her dainty finger pointed at the sleek Acura suv that was coincidentally parallel parked behind his Manhattan Green BMW X6.
“ I’ll walk you..we’re parked right by each other.” Her heels clicked against the dark asphalt and she let a yawn escape her pretty lips.
“Tired Ms.Evans? Sorry to keep you so late, I’m sure you have other obligations.”
“Mhm it’s all the food and champagne getting to me, and no please don’t apologize I had such a nice time tonight… thank you again for extending an invitation to me.” The two stopped in front of her suv and it had Terry wishing he could turn back time.
“And miss an opportunity to talk to the gorgeous and seriously intelligent Marina Evans… not a chance. Thank you for your support, and drive safe.” He helped her step into her vehicle before he closed her door and watched her leave before pulling out his phone to make a call.
“Yeah she just left..keep close to the plan and do exactly what I told y’all to do. I find out you niggas did anything other than what I asked…yall are finished.” He hung up the phone and hopped into his car heading to his house. He knew what he was doing was fucked up, but rarely did Terry ever not get what he wanted. Only this time he wanted Marina Evans and he was willing to stage whatever freak incident he could think of to appear as the white shining knight in her story.
The contemporary home was a perfect mix of neutral earth times and dark greys. Features within the home had donned it with eco friendly and smart house features putting it at a price point of a whopping 1.2 million dollars. A price point Terry would pay and then some for a house that was exclusive to him. The story he told the public about his upbringing was slightly altered and fabricated. The money was only halfway clean, but his appearance needed to be crystal. No past offenses or charges, no run-ins with the police, and no witnesses.
He put people in the dirt for a living and that was just the true facts. The true underground king with an empire spanning throughout the states.A dr. Jekyll and Hyde if you will. The boogeyman. An assassin with the precision to kil. Right now his cousins were ransacking the cute little craftsman style house that belonged to Marina Evans. A sick way of pushing her into his arms he knew but having her would make it all worth the risk.
A new obsession had squirmed its way into Terrys head one night during a masturbation session. The video practically screamed out at him and he had nutted enough that night to fill the Mississippi River; twice,his eyes were glued to the computer screen as he watched the younger woman be pumped full of grown mature dick. The idea had crossed his mind plenty of times, something young and hot to trick on and fuck whenever he wanted to. It seemed maybe he’d be getting his wish sooner or later.
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Paranoia and fear gripped Marina in the coming days after the charity ball. When she had made it home and into her driveway that night she knew something was off. The linen curtains that lined her French doors to her kitchen blew in the night winds, signaling the doors had been smashed. Eyes wide with fear and shock she held her hand over her mouth in disbelief. She frantically dialed 911 to report a burglary. Her house was a mess, picture frames broken and everything rummaged through. The following nights she spent in the guest room at her moms house, too afraid to sleep in her own house.
She had called into the local newspaper that she worked for letting them know of her unfortunate situation. Work would have to be put on the back burner for a few days right along with her podcast episode. She was still practically new to this neighborhood having only just closed on her home two months prior. It was a quiet safe neighborhood, and all her neighbors had kindly welcomed her into it. But now she wasn’t so sure about it being safe. What if she had been home When this happened, would she have lived to tell the tale?
She felt hopeless and the police had no leads yet. What was life without a curveball? She was currently wrapped up in her mothers guest room
sick with the flu. Coughs and sniffles were the soundtrack of life right now and the pungent smell of Lysol was in the air. She had no appetite and a slight migraine sat at her temples, and yet her phone began to ring excessively loud into her ear.
|“Hello?” She was sure she sounded as stuffy as she looked.
|”Marina..hey sweetheart it’s Terry. I called as soon as I heard the bad news, I’m so sorry.” His deep voice sounded apologetic over the phone and she had almost forgotten the exchanging of numbers almost a week ago at the charity event.
[-My uncle works at the police department..he mentioned your name and burglary in the same sentence and I just had to call and check in on you. I hope I’m not overstepping.
[-No not at all I appreciate you calling me..um yeah it hasn't been the best week for me so far it’d be better if I could find out who did this to my house…and now I’m sick with the flu.She heard shuffling and muffled talking on his end and she sat up further on the headboard of the bed.
[-Let me send you something Marina, a little get well soon basket…if that’s okay with you I can have my assistant drop it to you. Marina pondered a bit, and honestly what was the harm in accepting it?
[-I don’t know Terry, I couldn’t ask you to do that. One day you'll have to let me repay you back for your kindness.
[-I insist, and pay me back in good health.. and let me take you out some time when you’re feeling better. Some time had lapsed and he had seriously caught her off guard with the question.
[-Marina? You don’t have to give me an answer right now… my ego can handle it, trust me.
[-Sometime when I’m better definitely, I’m completely in the dumps right now..but I could definitely use that basket if it’s still on the table.
[-It is..I’ll get my assistant to contact you and get everything delivered to you. Get well Marina I’ll talk to you soon.
The call ended and she finally felt some strength in her to get up and tend to herself. Her braids had been in her bonnet for the last 48 hours and her face looked drained of all her color. She definitely wasn’t in any shape to look Terry’s handsome ass in his face. Her moms house was quiet, and she knew her mother wouldn’t be home from the hospital until 7 that evening so trying to get better was definitely the plan for the next few hours.
As he said, Terry had his assistant message her about her location to send the basket. It arrived well packaged with an aroma that was clearing her nasal passage. Two dozen crimson red roses and a large woven basket was on the front porch waiting for her in less than an hour. She hurriedly sat it on her mothers dining table and pulled the contents from the basket. Each item she was excited to use. Multiple face masks to bring back the color to her face, an expensive looking full body massager, a cozy pajama set, and a container of chicken noodle soup that was still piping hot from the deli uptown.
“How freaking sweet, now these are gifts worth having for sure.”
She sent a picture over to Terry letting him know that everything was revived with the highest appreciation. He hearted her message but didn’t send back a written reply.
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“Didn’t I tell you to stay out my fucking city?!” Terry let his bloodied fist fly into the man’s face for a third time, he winced and shook his hand quickly before his phone vibrated in his pocket. A picture from Marina showing him the basket had made it to her and would be used gratefully. But she'd have to wait. Terry was in his mode. The kill a nigga and ask questions later mode, he had two run ins prior to this one with the same pesky ass excuse for a human being.
“Pass me my shit, I’m ending this. Motherfuckers need to know that I don’t speak twice.” The heavy gun was laid in his hand and he screwed on the silencer. The man in front of him cried and begged for his life, but time was out for him.
“Mario Brown…I’m sentencing you to death for not obeying the nigga that owns you.” A quick pull of the trigger put a silver bullet right through his head. His crew needed no words as they immediately rolled the body into a tarp to be burned.
Terry shrugged off his suit using it to wipe the blood from his face and neck. He had a warehouse stacked to the brim with cocaine that needed to make it to El Paso, Texas. Terry wasn’t a cliche in the world of drugs, he chose the mafia life willingly; it didn’t choose him. It was all he knew and it was all he’s ever done outside of his coverups, that consisted of real estate and stocks. All three things he needed to know the ins and outs of to keep up the facade. He was no good person and he was no angel. He maneuvered through this life cunning and forcefully, and yet he did so with grace.
Drugs had afforded him the type of access he wanted in life. A payroll full of law enforcement, cars and houses, and the baddest bitches on the continent. But he was getting older and more irritable with it all, and that was bad for business. A man that stayed irritated was a man bad for business, he had stacked and put so much money away his grandchildren’s grandchildren would be rich. And yet having all he had he still longed for a woman to call his, someone to marry and give his last name and kids too. Marina Evans was what he wanted-no needed, and he would pull out any stop to have her.
His clothes would be a pile of ash by the time he finished using the warehouse shower, black and purple bruises littering his back and side from a recent brawl with a new business partner who would ultimately be his way out. He didn’t believe the old heads that told him he only had one way out of this kinda life, he refused to put that shit on himself. Death was not the only way out, past men just didn’t have his sharp mindset and it showed because they all rested eternally in cemeteries.
His matte black Range Rover practically drove itself home. He was worn out and needed food and sleep. Public speakings to keep the wool over the public’s eye and the night time escapades that always ended in a dead body or two lying around, were getting the best of him. For the next month he planned to pull back from the public slowly but surely, only popping out to speak when absolutely necessary. The only person he cared to be around was her. What a fucking joke. Terry knew better about this situation and still refused to do better, he wanted what he wanted. Marina… Just the sound of her name rolling off his tongue enticed him and his dick had jumped multiple times in his pants when she complimented him at the ball.
A pretty lil thing with a good head on her shoulders and outside of wanting to put her through his mattress he was actually genuinely intrigued by her. And when he finally laid down it was her pictures and voice that invaded his privacy so badly he stalked all her socials. Her vibrant colorful pictures on her Instagram page pulled a smile from him, such an interesting girl.
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The next morning came to Terry in peace. No nightmares and no tossing and turning, he felt well rested above all else and the pain he felt from his bruised body had subsided and drowned out without painkillers. His morning routine came effortlessly and he ended it all with a 30 minute meditation to thoroughly decompress his body to prepare for his day.
He scarfed down a savory bagel sandwich and washed it down with his herbal tea. His agenda for the day was light as planned, he was to be kept updated on the whereabouts of his drugs every hour on the hour and not a second late. A large sum of money was headed his way if shit went smoothly.
His fingers itched to message Marina; so he did. He wanted another try at seeing her. To his surprise she had responded quickly and said she was feeling well enough to meet at her house. She spoke of wanting to replace the broken glass on her French doors so he dressed casually and responded letting her know he’d see her shortly.
His Ford Raptor rounded the block into a cute quaint neighborhood. Children rode their bikes and sprayed each other with water hoses as their parents watched, and the background noise of barking dogs made it all full circle. He spotted Marina’s suv quickly and pulled in alongside it in her driveway. Getting out he noticed her still sitting inside and tapped on her window lightly.
“Hi Terry… I know I look weird still sitting in here. I’m just scared to go alone.” She gave him a bashful smile and opened her driver side door. Black biker shorts showing off her thick thighs and plush lower half, had him shaking his head. A Tupac graphic tee shirt and white sneakers completed her looks and her neat braids rested atop her head in a tight bun.
“Come on I’ll go with you, nobody will mess with you while I’m here I promise.” She obliged and walked side by side with him to the side of her house where the doors were. Terry measured where the glass was supposed to be and got the measurements for replacements and let the tape measure shoot back into itself before turning to Marina.
“I have a guy that does this kind of work. I'll get in contact with him for you. No cost to you, but for now I’d say invest in security cameras…they’ll bring you a good peace of mind.”
“Will do, that’s not even out of the question anymore… thank you for extending this kind of generosity to me.”
A smirk graced his face as he stared down at her, hands itching to touch her. “Let’s get lunch and you can thank me all you want afterwards.” He helped her up into his truck with a hand on her waist, green eyes going wide at her ass in his face, and on his way around the truck he was silently praying to god.
She was definitely chatty when she got comfortable, but he didn’t mind listening. They filled their bellies with Korean bbq and sushi and Terry was still ordering appetizers.
“Please no more, are you trying to stuff me?” In more ways than one he thought to himself, he just loved watching her eat. When she tried something new amongst the appetizers she hit a little happy dance if she liked it. They had ate their fill in food with plenty to bring home, Terry paid the bill and carried their Togo bags and she kept up beside him sipping quietly on her lychee tea. His phone buzzed in the console a few times and he ignored it knowing it was about his shipment, he would get to it when she was no longer around.
“Do you need to get that… am I intruding or something? You can let me know, I’m sure you’re practically booked and busy. Please don’t let me hold you up.”
“They can wait, you’re more important right now.” She turned slightly in her seat and her cognac eyes held his for what felt like hours. And she leaned closer into his space, holding that eye contact.
“You have the most beautiful eyes… they just seem never ending.” His stare intensified and he watched her smile dreamily at him, whatever effect he thought he had on her had been confirmed.
“You keep complimenting me like that and I’ll start to think you got a little crush on me Ms.Evans.”
“Would that be so bad…me liking you?” He shook his head and tucked a braid back into her bun fingers slowly grazing her neck. How bold of her,
“Only if I didn’t like you back.” He smirked and rubbed his fingers against her open palm watching her fingers twitch slightly. “You’re an amazing woman Marina… I’ve been interested in you for a while, but things just didn’t make sense then.” He thought back to a few months ago when he had initially intended on meeting her but he was busy trying to wipe a whole bloodline out at the time and that was time consuming.
Her eyes danced around his face as she listened to him intently, and his right hand rose to her chin to focus them, letting her lean into him to initiate a kiss. But she put her hands up pulled back slowly.
“But Terry what if-“
“Shh.. put your hands down and let it happen, let me in.”
His hands found her face and he pressed his lips to hers in a rush. Her tongue tasted sweet from her drink and the strawberry flavored lip gloss had him sucking her lips into his mouth like a savage. She gripped his shirt and he pulled her into him with a hand on her waist hand rubbing along her back soothingly, chest to chest heads turning left to right to increase the experience. He pulled away from her reluctantly and brought a hand to his lips to kiss.
“Give me a chance to court you and prove myself…if you don’t like what I offer you, then that’ll be it and I won’t bother you again, but if you do..I have so much to show you.”
“A deal is a deal Mr.Richmond..let the games begin.”
__
A/N: The girls called for Mafia!Terry??? HERE HE GO😗. Like and reblog if you enjoyed this🫶🏾
@venusincleo @grlsbstshot @yassbishimvintage @avoidthings @pocketsizedpanther @writingsbytee @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @simplyzeeka @zillasvilla @blowmymbackout @kimuzostar @playgurlxoxo @kumkaniudaku @megamindsecretlair @theereina @keyaho @brattyfics @hotgrlcece @henneseyhoe @starcrossedxwriter @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @uzumaki-rebellion @blackmoonchilee @invisiblegiurl @blackerthings @19jammmy @ovohanna24 @talkswithdesi @notc0rtez @becauseimswagman1 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @mysteryuz
#terry richmond #aaron pierre #terry richmond x blackoc #rebrl ridge
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I Got My Love To Keep Me Warm🎄✨❣️
summary: It’s your first time spending the holidays with your boyfriend and his uncle and it’s nothing but the perfect Christmas.
warnings: guys it is only a very fluffy christmas special, i hope you enjoy it. the reader and eddie are dating btw (if that counts:))
wc: 1.8k
Happy Christmas :)
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You woke up with a freezing foot pressing against your own feet. You squint and hear a giggle from the boy next to you. “I’m going to put my cold hands on your butt Eddie, get off.” You said with a grumpy tone and still waking up.
“No you won’t, cause if you do i’ll put my cold hands on your boobs. I’ll have to take my revenge.” He teases you but still places his hand on your cheek and smile at you like the sweet guy he is. “I’m sorry that i woke you up like that i couldn’t resist-“ You playfully push his hand and his face making him grab you tight into a hug, a way to keep you still. “I just wanted to ask you if you wanted to help me with some chores today, all christmas chores… What do you say?”
You open your eyes but you only see Eddie’s neck since he’s pressing his cheek on your forehead while he hugs you tight. “Christmas chores? Tell me more” Eddie knew you were going to be intrigued, you had that christmas spirit, always excited for ‘the most beautiful time of the year’.
“Well, my uncle is going to a christmas tree farm because, even though we don’t have a lot of money to put up with a big tree, Wayne have a friend from his old days that works in one of those farms and got a nice price on a nice tree.” As Eddie explained you got up on your elbows to listen to his story carefully. “So, while he goes there to pick up our tree, you can come get the ornaments with me so we can decorate later and also go to the grocery store to buy some ingredients for those recipes you wanted to make.”
You’re smiling without even noticing. Now you really woke up and were ready for everything. “That’s great Eds, of course i’ll go with you! You just described a perfect day!” Eddie also was smiling without even noticing now. He loved when you got all excited about the things you truly loved.
So you two got dressed and went on your little Christmas adventure. First you take the ornaments in the self storage Wayne keeps the things that don’t fit in the trailer (he recently got to pay the rent thanks to Eddie’s help and his hard-earned money), and they made the place look bigger. You took the two medium boxes and went to the grocery store that wasn’t that far away. The place was crowded, of course it would be, there were only two days left until Christmas.
“Do we really have to get those ingredients?” Eddie said looking at the big line of people inside the store. It was probably going to take a bit more than thirty minutes.
“We don’t have to, but without them i can’t make those desserts.” You replied a bit annoyed that everyone got the same idea as you. “But come on, it’s gonna be worth it i promise!” You pull Eddie into the store.
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When you got home, it was already afternoon. Wayne was already outside the trailer with the tree, cutting some twigs that expanded way too much. “Hey you two, what took you so long? Was it too hard to find the boxes?”
“Wayne you’re not gonna believe what happened there!” Eddie got out the van and started to tell the story excitedly. “I mean, we took only ten minutes to find the boxes, the real fun was in the market. The place was crowded, we started to get the missing ingredients when a lady tried to-“
“EDDIE! I told you… I told you not to say anything to your uncle.” You tried to mumble to him and your cheeks got red with embarrassment.
“What happened?” Wayne asked a bit concerned for the discrepancy in your reaction and Eddie’s.
“I’m sorry mr. Munson I- I was just… There was just a bit of a hustle in there because another woman tried to take the last container of cinnamon powder that was already in my hand and that was the most important ingredient in the recipes i wanted to make. So I got a bit carried away and-“
“She put the woman in her place, it was metal!” Eddie interrupted you and you cover your face with your hands.
“Eddie don’t be that dramatic, i was rude, yes, but only you and the lady heard what i said. I tried not to be too scandalous. At least she heard me and went her own way.” You got so stressed, the only thing you wanted to do is go back to your plans on making your christmas chores.
“I probably helped you scare her away. I gave her my bad guy look.” Eddie made that face again and you couldn’t help but fall into laughter. He was happy that he could pull a smile on your face after so much stress.
“That’s a story huh. It’s fine, just be careful with those type of ladies here in town, they not very nice.” He said giving you a small grin. Before Eddie could take you inside he stopped you again. “And hun’, you can quit the whole mr thing, you can call me Wayne, a’ right?” And you just replied with a grin and nod.
After that you just got back to your plans. You called your mom to let her know you were fine. Your family was spending Christmas at your grandparents house and you asked them if this year, you could spend the holidays with your boyfriend and his uncle. Miraculously they said yes. Now you were here, spending your first Christmas with Eddie (and also the first time you spent more than three days together) and you couldn’t be more excited. Everyday was being better than the one before.
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In the next day, the tree was all pretty and colorful on the little corner of their living room. You spent the day making dinner (a tradition of theirs, a simple dish, mac n’ cheese, which you also offered to make) and the classic desserts, the gingerbread cookies and your cinnamon rolls. Of course, the moment you started to bake, Eddie offered to help. So it’s been like this the whole day, you trying to teach Eddie how to cook. You could only laugh in each five seconds.
“Stop laughing you dork, help me!” Eddie said laughing his ass off too. He was trying his best and, it wasn’t so bad, it was just funny.
“Come on Eds, do it as i said.” You contain yourself and take his hand, helping him mix all the ingredients together. You could feel his heavy sight on you. “You have to concentrate.”
“I’m trying.” He recomposed himself and started to mix again. “You’re not helping though.”
“What? What am i doing?”
“Besides of laughing at my face at every five seconds…” You giggle at him “You’re way to pretty with your hair up like that, wearing my shirt and with flour all over your face.”
“What?” You run your hand on your face and it was actually dirty. Eddie was laughing at you, so you take your time to tell him how pretty he was. You take a bit of flour and throw it at him. He stoped, too stunned to speak and then open a mischievous grin. That meant ‘run’.
Regretting instantly, because Eddie always takes those jokes very seriously, you start running around.
“Wait, Eddie wait! Don’t turn the room into a mess.”
“You started it. It’s just life babe, when you do something, there’s a consequence.” He’s laughing too and you run outside, avoiding the possible big mess inside the trailer. But when you open the door you’re surprised by the cold breeze and the snow falling down.
You just stop to look around and up the sky to feel the snow on your skin. It was really really cold, but it was amazing. You feel Eddie behind you, remember what you were playing before, but his hands were free and were wrapping around your growing cold body. It felt like you just stood there for a second, but maybe you were there for a little longer.
“Isn’t it amazing?” You speak and your chin trembles. Eddie turns you to him so he could embrace you into a warm hug. “You’re so warm. And you’re smelling like gingerbread cookies.”
“I hope that’s a good thing.” He chuckled
“It is. You smell like home.”
After that, You finish all your chores, take a very warm and needed shower and you stay our little christmas together. You three have dinner first and now, voted by Eddie and Wayne, you should come spend every christmas with them because it was the best mac n’ cheese they’ve ever eaten. You talk about things from your year, the ups and downs, your favorite moments, all that while you prepared the goodies to watch a classic christmas movie, something that Eddie came up with. One of his favorite things to do if he was honest, he used to do that on halloween but he brought that tradition to christmas too, to add a bit more to your special night together.
If they ask you, it was a perfect christmas day. You loved every second of it, specially because you got to spend your favorite holiday with your favorite person. By the middle of the movie you were sleeping on Eddie’s lap. When he realized, he felt something inside him, a warm feeling contrasting with the cold weather that he was growing accustomed to more and more and he could never get tired of it. While looking at you, a million thoughts passed through his head but the main thing was, he was sure that he never wanted to let you go. He loved you to much to even think about it.
“What’s on your mind kiddo?” Wayne asked as if he was reading his mind. He was actually, but he was reading his expressions, full of love looking down at your sleeping body.
“Nothing…. Just think i really got lucky. There’s no way i would get her without a bit of luck.” He tried to make a joke up that uncomfortable moment he got caught.
“I think that she’s the one Ed. And I mean it.” Wayne said bringing Eddie’s attention to him. “It’s pretty obvious to anyone who’s out watching you guys as i did the last couple of days. The way she treats you like you just gave the world to her, the way she looks at you like you’re her prince. It’s special Eddie and it doesn’t happen twice. You know it.”
Eddie is stunned. He didn’t disagree with what his uncle said, but to have someone telling him that you’re feeling the same way he is, that it is visible…. it really caught him. He was overwhelmed even. To have his feelings reciprocated in the same intensity.
“I think so too Wayne.” Eddie turned back to look at you. “Shes my girl. Shes the one.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson fic#eddie stranger things#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie x reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson headcanon#eddie munson x y/n#christmas#stranger things#merry xmas#xmas#eddie munson fanfiction#happy hollidays
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Angst Villain x civilian where the villain cheats on civilian with hero
“If it is of any comfort, it didn’t mean that much to me." The villain cocked their head, as if they were thinking about something intensively - which they weren't. They looked at the civilian, but failed to conjure any pity.
Their partner, well, probably ex-partner now, looked at them with wide eyes and tears rolling down their cheeks.
"I-" The civilian's hands were shaking, their face contorted in pain. "What did I- what did I do wrong?"
Their voice was shaking.
"Nothing."
"I..." The civilian took in a deep breath. "Oh god..."
They gasped for air desperately but the villain couldn't help but think about the hero in their bed, moaning lovingly. It was true that the civilian hadn't done anything wrong. They were quite good company to keep around. They were tidy (which was very important to the villain), they were nice, avoided conflict, didn't ask too many questions. The perfect kind of person to keep around, someone who wasn't getting involved in the villain's business.
But when it came to pure desire, the hero was simply more tempting. It was about power.
The civilian wasn't a challenge in bed.
The hero on the other hand...
"Oh god...I can't-" The civilian gasped for air over and over again, coming very close to mimicking a panic attack.
"I can move out if you want, or you do. Whatever you like."
"I wanted to marry you, I - I love you, I..." The villain raised a lazy brow.
"We can still get married if you want to, but I'd like to screw the hero every now and then," the villain said. The civilian turned away, but the villain could obviously tell that they were crying harder now. They would have never brought this up, but unfortunately, the villain had gotten a bit lazy and the civilian had found out about the affair.
It wasn't the end of the world, but the villain had planned to keep the civilian around for a little longer. More than once, they had thought about proposing to the civilian out of pure necessity, but the amount of work linked to that, had spoiled the idea quickly.
"You don't have to decide now," the villain clarified. "It's an option, that's all."
The civilian's back was still turned towards them.
"I had so many plans for us," they whispered, almost mumbled the words. "What did I do wrong, why are you doing this to me...?"
The villain rolled their eyes.
"Like I said, it didn't mean that much to me. They're attractive. They showed up at my work. We fucked on the desk and started to meet regularly." A lot of lies. Technically, they had been flirting with each other for the last year. "Work" meant their usual nightly activities. The thing with the desk was true, though.
The civilian turned around, eyes bloodshot.
"Did they force you? Because they're the hero?" The villain pursed their lips. Interesting. It was probably pretty easy to turn themselves into a victim in this situation (the civilian was by no means rational right now), but they had already admitted that they wanted to meet the hero in the future, so keeping up with that lie was going to be exhausting.
"No," the villain said. "Their ass just looked great that night."
"I don't understand, I thought you loved me?! We've been together for three years..." The civilian wiped away their tears but new tears followed and followed.
"...I like your company, yes."
"That's it?"
Once again, the villain cocked their head, staring at the civilian.
"Come on. A hero. The hero. Who can say no to that? It's a sexual thing. Has absolutely nothing to do with you. You're great." They shrugged. "Stay here. Get some sleep. We can talk about the rest tomorrow."
The civilian stood there, didn't dare to move.
"My love, you must be exhausted."
The civilian took in a deep breath. They nodded.
"There we go," the villain said softly. "You look lovely right now, by the way."
It wasn't that the villain liked being cruel - they just couldn't help it.
#absolutely SMASH the like button to punch this villain in the throat#writing snippet#heroxvillain snippet#heroxvillain prompt#heroes and villains#hero#villain#heroxvillain#hero x villain#request#an answer for an ask#villain x civilian#angst
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Ahhh thank U hope the day is good!
right back at ya @aphantimes 💖. Got great art, makes me think about paper craft and your concept sketches do so well at conveying emotion and the feel of the scene, you got really goodbrain thoughts and I Love vibing with you. Very cool person.
@charleecat-bat you’re also getting a tag from me cuz you’re so cool. I adore your aus, their art and all the thought put into them. It’s been a lot of fun throwing things back and forth with you. You always give so much care to all the characters
@mama-qwerty you have super good character analysis takes and do really great hit with the angst then heal with the wholesome. And you’ve helped me many times this year so big thank you for that. And I’ve seen you give wonderful kind advice for your anons to.
@quazart you have a super cute and huggable art and you have such creative designs. You do such a good job at scenes with lots of characters and things going on and it’s still so clear and able to pick out so many details.
@mcfanely I’ve had so much fun talking and coming up with ideas with you. You’ve got such a great energy and i wanna thank you for helping to create the server that lead to me meeting and getting to know so many of these amazing people.
@acespeon you’re another person I’m always very happy to seen in my notes. You’ve been really great to interact with and I’ll be happy to chat whenever.
@guardian-of-da-gay yet another really cool writer/artist. (Amazing job on how much you got out during whumptober btw. Really impressive feat.)
@mushroomflood you to are an amazing artist! You make the characters look so sweet and vibrant. (And the same brain moments always give me a smile)
@sayurime I love chatting to you too! I really like so many of the concepts you come up with and chatting about them to.
@rapidhighway i must say I love the stuff you got going with licho and knuckles, super great dynamic there.
@heckinconfusedparade we may not have chatted in a bit but I still think of you with so much fondness
ands there’s plenty of people I see popping up again and again in my notes that make me go “oh hey it’s you :D” i appreciate your presences and makes me smile when I’ve seen you go through and like/reblog a bunch of my posts.
positivity train!
if you see this or are tagged in it, tag a couple of your favorite mutuals/blogs and let them know you appreciate seeing them on your dash!
@h0neysugarfree @blueberrylovv @bequiteanddriveeeeeee @cherri-bomb-bomb @eg0mechan1c @fatrexicisback
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There’s always pressure😣
parings: charles leclerc x sister!f2 driver!reader, arthur leclerc x sister!f2 driver!reader
in which: she’s very proud of them after racing alongside each other, but the pressure is always still on her..
requested: yes, by anonymous: Leclerc!sister being a F2 driver, watching Arthur & Charles both driving in FP1 session and being very proud of them but also feels a bit left out and feels there is going to be so much more pressure on her
Part 2 Part 3 (coming soon)
//
Y/n Leclerc, a rising talent that is currently driving in formula 2. She had just entered the f1 paddock to watch both her older brothers drive in FP1 together.
She smiled and waved at the cameras pointing to her, and made her way over to some of the fans that are waiting for her to sign stuff and take photos.
A few fans started to shout over to her..
“Imagine if you were driving today, Y/n!”
“Three Leclerc’s on the grid need to happen!”
“Why are you apart of Mercedes’s junior team and not Ferrari’s?”
“Don’t you feel like the black sheep of your family?”
“You need to get into f1 soon!”
Y/n smiled awkwardly when the fans shouted them, she quickly signed and took photos before heading her way to the Mercedes garage.
“Sweetheart, isn’t your whole family in Ferrari? What you doing here?” Susie Wolff, asked the young girl.
“Y/n, I told you that you don’t need to be anywhere near our garage today as both Arthur and Charles are in FP1 together” Toto said as he saw one of his junior drivers in the garage.
“I know, just don’t need to be reminded what’s happening today as I had enough of that walking into the paddock just now, I’m going to see Kimi so see you guys later” Y/n added as she left.
“Media never lets the kid breathe without comparing her to her brothers and why she’s not apart of the Ferrari junior team,” Toto said watching Y/n walk away.
“Well, she’s in great hands with us. Tell Lewis to keep an eye on her, he knows how to talk sense in her when she bottles up her feelings” Susie added.
//
“Y/n! There you are, where have you been?” Pascale asked her daughter who just entered the Ferrari garage.
“Just in Mercedes, sorry maman” Y/n mumbled as she stood by her mother.
“Toto and Susie told you that you didn’t need to be in there today due to this special moment between your brothers today” Pascale added.
“I know, sorry” Y/n replied quietly.
“Hey kiddo!” Carlos said as he messed up her hair making her slap him lightly.
“Hi Carlo! Do I need to remind you again not to touch my hair?” Y/n replied as she glared at him.
“Oh leave her alone,” Rebecca said as she appeared from behind Carlos.
“This is why I like her more than you!” Y/n teased as she hugged Rebecca.
“Love you too kiddo” Carlos mumbled.
A few moments later, Y/n watched as Charles and Arthur soon got into their cars and made their way out onto the track, she smiled proudly at them so ensure her mother and everyone she was happy but deep down she was feeling the opposite.
//
Y/n had managed to slip out of the Ferrari garage just before FP1 was finished. She quickly went back over to the Mercedes garage, before she was caught.
“Hey kid, you okay?” Lewis asked.
“Oh, hey Lew! I’m good!” Y/n replied.
“Why aren’t you in Ferrari? Family must be proud watching Charles and Arthur today, special moment for you all” Lewis added.
“Yeah, very proud of them” Y/n mumbled as she looked up to the TV screens that were showing Charles and Arthur with the whole family hugging.
“Shouldn’t you be with them?” Lewis asked.
“Rather stay out of the way, a moment for them to enjoy with the family” Y/n added.
“Y/n, c’mon kid you don’t need to pretend with me. Toto told me as he can read you like a book, I know you are feeling left out and you think there’s more pressure on you due to what the fans were saying when you walked in today” Lewis told her softly, as she look away.
“It’s not just confusing, I love them and very proud of them. But no one really takes notice of me, I feel left out and just adds more pressure to me as I’m their little sister and should be good at racing like them..” Y/n mumbled.
“Don’t even realise I’m gone..” Y/n whispered looking back to the TV screens that are showing what’s happening in the Ferrari garage.
“Hey, c’mon you’re still their little sister and you mean everything to your family. You are creating your own name for yourself in racing, you joined Mercedes which is a different route to both your brothers. I know how bad the media can be, you can’t let them bring you down as you are doing amazing in F2 right now” Lewis told her.
“Why are you so good at talking, I just want to be sad but you’re making it hard!” Y/n joked with a smile on her face.
“What can I say? C’mon, let’s go the hospitality as it will be comfortable and we can talk more” Lewis added as the youngest Leclerc nodded.
//
Lewis and Y/n has been in the hospitality for 30 minutes when Toto and Susie joined them, the five of them had been there for some time and Y/n kept getting messages from her mother..
Maman❤️
Y/n, darling! Where have you wondered off to?
You should be here with us all celebrating this special moment with your brothers!
It’s so disappointed in you, that you have decided not to be here!
You better be in Ferrari as soon as possible.
read
//
Part 2 anyone?👀
#f1#f1 imagines#formula 1#formula 1 imagines#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x sister!reader#leclerc!reader#leclerc!sister#arthur leclerc x sister!reader
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see the lights, and hang the stockings
Eddie finds out that Buck has never ever had a Christmas stocking of his own. He's very determined to change that and share a few Diaz family traditions.
ao3 link
for week three of @winterofbuddie - holiday history.
Eddie knew he was inclined to go a little overboard at Christmastime. It was his favourite holiday, and he’d inadvertently (and very happily, might he add) made it Christopher’s favourite holiday too, their house always filled to the brim with decorations, Christmas music playing on a loop as soon as Thanksgiving was over, and he and Christopher agreed it was socially acceptable to dive right into the Christmas of it all.
Eddie loved Christmas, was the point, and even now, when Christopher was a relatively grumpy teenager, so did his son, Christopher happy to spend one of his precious Saturday evenings decorating the tree with Eddie, and Buck, instead of hanging out with his friends.
Well, to a point.
They’d gotten the tree decorated before Christopher had sneaked off to his bedroom, the chatter of his teenager calling his friends comforting background noise as he and Buck carried on the decorating duties. There had been a time where Eddie had worried he’d never have a house filled with the noise of Christopher simply living his life again, and so he was grateful for it - even when he’d hear Christopher up chatting far too late, his bedtime long past.
Eddie only got to have his kid be a kid for so long, and he’d lived through a dark few months where he hadn’t gotten to have his son around at all - so, he could be forgiven for being a little lenient with him sometimes.
“Mulled wine,” Buck hummed by way of explanation, pressing a mug into Eddie’s waiting hands. Eddie liked getting to do this, decorate, with Buck. Buck was his best friend in the whole world, and Eddie had done enough work unpicking a lifetime of repression to know that his feelings for Buck went a bit further than solely platonic, but even putting the whole, being in love with him, thing aside, Eddie just loved to spend time with the other man.
“Thank you,” Eddie hummed, inhaling the comforting smell of spices, the aroma of mulled wine sinking into every inch of Eddie’s house. Christmas baking would join the party soon, he knew, because Buck was determined to make all of their nearest and dearest cookie boxes this year, like he’d seen on TikTok, and Eddie knew that his kitchen would be the stage of choice when Buck committed to executing his twelve-point plan for perfecting cookie gifts.
“I think it needs more cardamon,” Buck admitted, a tiny frown furrowing the space between his eyebrows. Eddie sort of always wanted to kiss it.
“It’s perfect,” Eddie disagreed, taking another sip of his drink. “You make the best mulled wine.”
An adorable flush appeared on Buck’s cheeks. Just another thing Eddie wanted to kiss. “You’re an unreliable reviewer,” he shook his head. “You like everything I make. I can never tell what’s really good, and what’s just okay, because you tell me everything is good.”
Eddie grinned, setting his mug on the fireplace. “That’s because I think everything is good,” he shrugged. It wasn’t a lie. Buck was a fantastic cook, and a great baker, and Eddie’s house was ground zero for many delicious experiments - the cheesy, twisty garlic bread Buck had made for their Italian themed family dinner had been a recent highlight. Buck’s sourdough starter even lived in Eddie’s fridge, not his own, for crying out loud.
Pressing play on his carefully curated Christmas playlist, the sound of Wham! and Last Christmas filling the living room, Eddie passed Buck a snowglobe, his best friend indulging and setting it down on the coffee table, where it always lived. It was a cheap, silly thing that Eddie had bought the first Christmas he’d been out of the army, from the Dollar General, but it held so much sentimental memory now, Eddie didn’t have the heart to throw it out. Buck had bought them a beautiful snowglobe a few years previously, from a small business based on the Northern Californian coast, and that was pride of place on the fireplace, but the cheap one still had a home - different eras of Eddie’s life all coming together here, in LA, in the first place he’d really chosen for himself.
“I love your decorations,” Buck hummed, careful fingers tracing the lettering on one of the tree decorations - it was an imprint of Christopher’s tiny baby hand, the black writing announcing to the world that it had been his very first Christmas. “They all have so much meaning.”
Eddie hummed. “You know me,” he joked. “I’m a sentimental old fool.”
“No - it’s good. Great, even,” Buck paused, for a minute. “My parents' Christmas tree had a colour scheme, growing up. There were no sentimental ornaments - only these picture perfect gold and red baubles. I broke one - I think I was seven, or eight - and my mom yelled at me for so long that it made me cry. She said they didn’t make the ornaments anymore, so she’d have to change them all now, because of me. I didn’t think she had meant it, but the next year, she’d thrown out all the red and gold, and we had green and silver.”
Eddie knew that Buck had grown up with emotionally neglectful parents, but sometimes, in moments like this, when Buck made an admission about the reality of his childhood, it really struck him how bad it must have been for Buck, growing up - how lonely, and sad, he must have been. It was amazing, really, how Buck turned out to be so kind, and wonderful, given the house he grew up in. How Buck was still Buck, despite everything he’d been through. “Buck, I…”
“I’m sorry,” Buck shrugged it off, like he always did. Buck never wanted to burden other people, and sometimes it made Eddie want to yell, and scream - it made him want to beg Buck to burden him with every thought and feeling he had. Eddie wanted to be there for him - he wanted to know what Buck had for breakfast every morning, and what he thought came in the afterlife, and everything in between. “I don’t know why I said that. Tonight’s meant to be happy, and here I am, making it all about me.”
read the rest on ao3
#911 abc#911#eddie diaz#evan buckley#buddie#in which i ramble#in which lorna writes fic#winterofbuddie#eddie fixing bucks childhood is something that is so personal to me
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Dialtown is the most USA-core game I've ever played. It's so fucking American that it's scary, and I've lived there my entire life! Like, this feels fundamentally tied with the game's themes and narrative, that's how extreme it is. And it's not even alienating OR nationalist?? It makes such genuine commentary? And then there's so much other shit to think about too; Dialtown has a very real identity outside this that anyone could love?
One: I am VERY impressed that you have done the USA and its people this well. I am actually astounded, bewildered, and chuffed. I've never felt so seen by a video game, culturally-speaking. I didn't even know there was a culture to see.
Two: WHY did you do that. Dialtown is like USA Culture Absurdified: The Visual Novel. What drove you to make a game this rich with American culture and ideas???
Hello!
It would've been odd for an outsider (non American) who enjoys reading up on history to make my setting nationalist or alienating. America is a country with a lot of serious issues. You can't really study how America is (and has been) internally run without facing glaring and obvious systematic issues. DT's setting is one of scarcity and most of the main characters you follow in DT are kinda just scraping by without much hope for true mobility/advancement. A lot of Americans (especially younger generations) would agree this sorta encapsulates the national mood of the country right now.
Of course, the systems that run a country don't define its citizens - many of the finest people I've ever known are American and are victims of the whims of those with power, not willing participants in this system. I could be wrong, but that's why I think the setting connected with a lot of people. We all know Randys, Olivers + Karens, people who've fallen through the cracks in some way. To them, America's spirit of self-determination isn't about individual identity - it's more "you're on your own."
Why I chose to set DT in America would be a novel length answer in of itself, but it mainly came down to history + narrative opportunity. I wanted to set the game in the epicenter of where the phone-revolution came from and Crown likely couldn't have pulled his plan off anywhere else and probably not during any other time. It had to be 1960's America.
Of course, some parts of DT are sorta universal and were inspired by the the Great Recession and what followed. I remember there was an area not that far from my house that was full of green fields when I was born and when I was a kid (and when real estate boomed), stuff started being built there. Parts of it looked really nice, not quite like anything nearby. Like the future was coming. Then the economy crashed and stuff was left sitting there, half-built for like a decade. Skeletal, unfinished buildings. DT is much the same.
There's a feeling that the city could've been something better and while things could be more equal, it does feel like there are no easy solutions to fix everything - unless someone very smart and determined somehow bypassed every safeguard that was set up to halt radical change and enacted a genius plan to somehow eliminate scarcity. It happened once and might never again.
I don't think most people understand the intricacies of stuff like global commerce all that well (myself included), but when you're sitting looking at a half built neighbourhood mere hours after speaking to a friend who just kicked out of rented accommodation and doesn't have a stable family unit to fall back on, you'd have to be a real dolt not to understand that things aren't great right now. Most people are scraping by and feel if they could just get affordable housing locked down, if they had maybe one good opportunity - maybe there's hope that things could change for the better.
The end of DT isn't really utopian, things don't massively change for the better and indeed, the town has a lot of rebuilding to do. But, a collection of lonely people are now looking out for each other and through the relationships they have, now feel like they have a place in this world. That no matter how bad things really get - they aren't truly by themselves anymore. Most individuals don't have the means to significantly advance change on their own - but you can live your life, love those around you and support others and plan for when the opportunity to affect change comes about.
I guess that's what life is, in America or anywhere else. Sorry I rambled for so long. Hope this answered the question!
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40k Nsfw alphabet - Leman Russ x F! Reader
Merry Christmas everyone. As usual, apologies for grammar and spelling errors, ooc or other such mistakes. Hope you all enjoy :)
(as requested by @yanagikou. I'm working thru everyone else's requests dw, just let me cook lol)
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Surprisingly tender and thoughtful. Leman Russ may look like a barbarian on the outside side, but behind closed doors he is a kind, caring and gentle lover.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Leman likes a woman with meat on her bones. He loves belly bumps and love handles. He loves thick thighs that he can sink his fingers into. Also, Fenris is such a cold, wintery place that it's almost essential that a baseline person be a little thicker.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
While finishing inside you will always be his favourite, Leman also loves finishing on your belly or your chest. He loves the sight of you covered in his seed, the smell of it mixing with your sweat and pheromones. He also loves the smell and taste of you. Often, after you two have made love, Leman will be loath to clean himself up- the thought of washing the scent of you from his body is unfathomable to him.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He wants to try pegging but he's way too scared to ask you. Nothing further, your honour.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Leman is one of only two primarchs (the other being Fulgrim) that ACTUALLY has ANY previous sexual experience. That, paired with his naturally out going and self confident personality, means that generally, Leman feels very confident in bed. He knows all those little tricks. Like propping your lower back up on a pillow and pressing down on your abdomen when he's on top. But don't mistake that confidence for arrogance. If there's one thing that Leman has taken away from his past experiences, the one little trick he will always remember, it's that the only way he can be sure to pleasure his partner is to listen to them. It's to follow their direction. Simply put, he's not the kinda man to rub your inner thigh for 2 mins and ask if you finished. No. He's the kinda guy to tell you to take his hand and guide it to exactly the right spot.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Doggie (self explanatory. I mean, come on. This is Leman Russ, the big WOLF man. It's basically a requirement at this point.),
missionary (For when he's craving tenderness and intimacy) and spooning (best of both of the above)
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Leman can pull off both very well. But the most important thing to note here is that for him, sex is something to have fun with. He wants you both to just enjoy yourselves. If that means being serious, then great! If that means giggling, calling each other funny names or breaking the sexual tension with wise cracks, then great!
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
The clue is in the name, frankly. Leman Russ is the Great Wolf: of course he's gonna look the part. It's thick. It's bushy. His chest and back are also super hairy.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Leman is a surprisingly romantic man. So much of his time is spent warring, fighting, and generally acting like a barbaric ruffian. So, more often than not, by the time he makes it to bed with you, he is craving intimacy and gentleness. Of course, as things spice up he might want to get a little rougher, but it always comes from a place of love, fun and pleasure.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Leman makes as much noise when he masturbates as he does when he's having regular sex. Which is a lot.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
First up is breeding. Regardless of whether or not the pair of you actually want to have children, the thought of pumping you full, of making your belly swell with his seed, is irresistible to him.
Second; menstruation. Everything about it turns him on. The scent of your changing pheromones. The implications of those changes- that your body is not only ready, but yearning for his seed- that feed directly into his breeding kink. The fact that sex provides you relief from your cramps, giving him extra motivation to make love as fiercely and passionately as he can. The red river doesn't bother him either, so no matter how heavy your flow is, he's still gonna eat you out if you want him to.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
In the living room of his chambers, in front of the hearth, right on top of the largest, most luxurious animal-hide rug that's sprawled out on the floor in front of the flames.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
One word: scent. And I don't mean perfumes or anything like that. I mean the smell of you. Your pheromones. Your bodily musk. Leman loves it. It's like a drug for him. And when you're feeling turned on or you are ovulating? It sends him absolutely feral.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Anything that involves threatening, demeaning, hitting or choking you and anything else in that vein. The reasons why are pretty obvious: Leman loves you. The thought of hurting you or causing you distress is practically heresy.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.).
Leman is a pussy eating king. When he's giving it to you, he's absolutely ravishing you, so much so you're gonna be aching the next day.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Leman enjoys both as much as each other. It all depends on how you're both feeling.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.).
While he'd prefer to have all night to make love to you, Leman is down for a quickie. This is particularly true when you're ovulating or having your time of the month, as the scent of your hormones makes him horny to the point of frenzy.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Absolutely! So long as it doesn't involve any of the things mentioned back up in N, Leman loves experimentation.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Come on. Seriously. This is Leman frickin Russ. This man can go for DAYS.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Leman doesn't own toys, and his ego might be bruised if he learns that you like to use them. He'll get over it though. You won't give him a choice.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Leman is totally a tease. Even more so when the two of you are in public. He likes making you blush with dirty words whispered in your ears and startling you with slaps on the ass or surprise bear hugs from behind.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Leman is utterly shameless when it comes to making noise. He encourages you to be the same. Sounds he makes include in order: growls, moans, roars and whimpers.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
When he's going down on ou, he loves it when you pull his hair. Nothing further, your honour.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Imagine the beefiest beefcake of a Viking man, then multiply the beefiness by 3.5. That's Leman.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
High. Very high. He'd make love to you twice a day if it was viable. He just adores you, your body and how they both make him feel so Throne-damn much.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Leman is always absolutely ragged at the end of your love-making sessions. As much as he wants to just fall straight asleep, however, he insists on caring for and cuddling with you first. He may fall asleep first after that, but only ever after that.
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one thing that often crosses my mind, is the brothers watching mams fall in love with Mc and they just can’t bring themselves to be upset about it,
Because all of a sudden he’s getting lost in thought staring at them, he starts to actually save some money just to buy things for them, he gets bashful whenever they’re around and tries extra hard to tell a story or two were he seems cool.
At first they think it’s laughable(and maybe a little pathetic), but every time they go to tease him about it the only thing he can really manage is a simple “shut up” before continuing on, mostly because he knows they’re right. He’s inlove with a human.. and so what!? He’s the Avatar of Greed! One of the seven lords! The Great Mammon! He can do whatever he wants, however he wants, whenever he wants!
but as time passes he doesn’t even say anything back to them when they go to tease, maybe one day asmo leans over to ask what he could be staring at- only for mams to not even mumble anything back or look his way, because he’s just so occupied with staring at Mc who’s just across the room. Maybe they aren’t even doing anything, maybe they’re in class and the teacher called mc up to do a problem on the board- or maybe they’re at diavolos place and mc is chatting with someone. Whatever it is, the look in mammons eyes is enough to not make asmo offended from being blatantly ignored. Sure he knows he couldn’t understand what mams see’s in that human, but knows love when he see’s it. so, over time as asmo starts to watch his brother and the human, he gains a small appreciation for their dorky little relationship… though the appreciation stops being small since he fan girls whenever he see’s them holding hands or whenever mams rushes over to gift mc something small, only for mc to gush and act as if he just gave them the entire world! They’re both just the cutest together!! And he has no idea how he didn’t see it before!? Sure it’s funny to his older brother acting a fool,(when is he not?) but it’s adorable to watch him stumble over himself when doing something as simple as walking Mc to class! It’s just so cute!!
asmo then starts defending mams whenever the others say something or try to tease, maybe at first it’s a quick, “oh don’t say that,” “they’re cute! Don’t be so rude!” “Oh guys don’t tease,” But one day, when mc and mammon both leave the dining room, maybe to go grab something or to do a task that clearly doesn’t need two people, and asmo pipes up, ”you know, im serious,”
everyone turns to look at him a little confused,
“..as in they’re absolutely adorable together!”
“oh barf.” Levi says, not looking up from his phone, a few others mumble in agreement,
“what! You guys seriously can’t say you haven’t noticed how mammon is around them, it’s the cutest!”
There’s a moment of silence at the table and Asmo huffs,
“come on, when was the last time any of you saw him saving his money to buy someone ELSE something?? It’s clear he’s taking this seriously!”
they all take a second to think before exchanging looks with each other,
then from that point they all start to really pay attention- honestly, I could imagine mc and mams not really being quite open with their relationship when they finally do make it official, but they are REALLY bad at hiding it. so the entire household takes notice once the two start holding hands more often, giggling at seemingly nothing at all, running off together randomly at different points in the day, sitting much closer together during meals, and the two are always touching each other, from a full on grab to just leaning on each other. So of course instead of mocking mams for his feelings.. the teasing moves on to flustering the two about their very obvious not-so-secret relationship. Even luci joins in, occasionally asking mc when they’ll marry his little brother, which flusters the both of them. And unfortunately causes the others to join in.
at least they’re supportive<3
#obey me#obey me mc#obey me mammon#obey me asmodeus#obey me leviathan#obey me lucifer#obey me one master to rule them all#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me satan#obey me mammon x mc#obey me mc x mammon#obey me fluff#obey me brothers#literal cuties:(
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Human decepticon designssss
Star is my favorite, but I love them all very much. Shockwave is kinda the most I had fun drawing since I had to take the most creative liberties! Soundwave looking great as always and ofc Meg has a huge coat big bad guy style.
based off of g1
#transformers#tf soundwave#tf starscream#tf shockwave#tf megatron#starscream#megatron#soundwave#shockwave#decepticons#maccadam#transformers g1
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Since some Rooks are Dalish already, let's go one better:
Rook summons the entire group for what they think is a big important "I HAVE NEWS" meeting, and asks for the worst profanity options in every culture represented at the table. Not just linguistically, but idiomatically. Rook is just like, "I want to be able to cuss him out for twenty-four straight hours, minimum."
Bellara: Comes through with little snippets of profanity she's heard from Veil Jumpers from all over the place, messages Strife to ask for suggestions from the folks at their current camp, and tells the Nadas Dirthalen to give her a list of every horrible thing any of Anaris' enemies called Anaris back in the day.
Davrin: Not so great on ancient elvhen, but given that the Grey Wardens are a place you get conscripted by and/or exiled to when you have Done A Bad, as well as someplace you can go to become a hero, he has so much invective from all over Thedas that gets ... particularly colourful in its idiom. Suggestions that one perform various sex acts on darkspawn are particularly apt in this situation.
Emmrich: Turns up with a pile of parchment two inches thick of particularly filthy swearing in ancient Nevarran. Apparently Nevarran is a very good language to swear in. Emmrich did attempt a pronunciation guide but recognises that he has to go through the entire list at least once to get the full nuance. He manages to get Manfred to go play with the wisps while the tutelage in ancient Nevarran profanity happens.
Taash: The Qun doesn't have a lot of swear words (or so Shathann has told Taash over the years, and they don't know enough to argue), but Rivaini has some really juicy idioms and sounds really lovely.
Harding: She spent too much time playing "I am nice and likeable so please don't be a dick" in Ferelden to really get much of Fereldan profanity, but years in the Inquisition made up for it. She does tap her few contacts in Orzamarr, but apparently no one really knows how to pronounce the ancient dwarven runes anymore.
Lucanis: Coffee with Teia and Viago. Teia has great idioms. They mostly invited Viago to see him pop a blood vessel, but his idioms are better than Teia's. Spite, surprisingly, joins in subtly with languages no one's heard of and may not exist outside the Fade.
Neve: Sits Rook down with Elek, Tarquin, Rana Savas, Maevaris, and Dorian with several bottles of good wine, then sets them to talking about the Venatori and lets the profanity flow while the Tevinter Brigade are too drunk and raging to notice Rook taking notes.
The next group meeting gets ... colourful.
Rook sitting Bellara and Davrin down all somber and they're expecting some sort of serious conversation only for Rook to go "I need you to teach me how to curse in elven. The common tongue isn't enough. I need to cuss Solas' ass out in his native language."
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