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#but someone please take away my internet i need to stop posting
unoriginal-and-dumb · 5 hours
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heello do you have any tips for noobie artists? ur art is just so very neat to me :) plz never stop arting
Never do what I do unless it is drawing all the time
Use references!! Always use them!!! Seriously please use references never let a stupid little rat in your ear take that away from you, they are always so valuable
If you see art you like, don’t be afraid to basically try recreating the same exact thing. All you have to do is not claim it as youre own, and better yet don’t post it online! It’s for practice, people don’t need to see practice in the end it’s only for you
Tracing is NOT wrong. I’m tired of people saying ohhh tracing is bad don’t do it ITS LITERALLY NOT!!!! Just don’t trace over someone else’s work/images and claim it as your own it’s that easy. If youre struggling with hands take photos of your hands and trace over it! Break them down into simple forms until you have an understanding of them in a meaningful way!
Do some studies of specific things. Struggling with leg anatomy? Draw a page full of legs, just push and pull and scribble and see what works, study images and see how you can reproduce it or stylize it
Never feel like you need to find your own art style immediately, that task is practically impossible. Everything comes from something, be inspired by others take little art bits from styles you like and only then can you create your own style!! (I mean dawg my style can be broken down into adventure time, owl house, invader zim, gooseworx, eddsworld, sr pelo, a few others im probably forgetting)
Don’t worry about broadcasting your work, not everyone needs to know all that you draw, the internet can be a hateful place and it really does suck a lot but also try not to rely on strangers online for support on everything you do, I know it is hard and that approval feel good I cannot deny it but remember to keep some stuff for yourself, a little treat where nobody can criticize you :)
Try to draw everyday! Or having a sketchbook where you make it a goal to completely fill 2 pages a week, and if that’s too much then just some doodles! Art takes a lot of constant practice, and there’s really nothing more fun than just having a little sketchbook with you where you draw random stuff all the time. When I was doing that I would make 2 page mini invader zim comics
I feel like a bit of a hypocrite because I do maybe 1 of these things but i know they are really good, I have done them before and they were super helpful! But in the end I think the best you could do is just keep at it! Don’t let people get you down, do your own thing, break rules if you want, it’s all art and art is AWESOME!!!!!!!
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ozzgin · 2 months
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Hello!
🌟 here again! I'm here with another request for our lovely bodyguard yandere.
Have you ever seen videos of fans jumping up onto stages with kpop idols? Then get carried away by security behind stage?
I'd love to see how our lovely violent baby girl would react to not being able to react with immediate violence as a reaction given all the eyes and cameras on him. Would he be stone faced just carrying the stage crasher by the collar like a cat? Or would he be dragging him by the legs into hell?
The reactions of fans to the bodyguard would be interesting too, I could see Reader being jealous over people thirsting over bodyguard on Twitter or something lol. Or bodyguard confused on why people would say stuff like "he could snap my back like a twig and I'd say thank you" about him.
Hope you are taking care, and I have my fingers crossed to hear from you eventually
Sincerely
-🌟
Long overdue and I'm terribly sorry about that! I had the ideas for a while now, but I could never find the proper words to assemble everything. ;-;
Yandere! Bodyguard x Idol! Reader (III)
Your bodyguard has gained sudden Internet fame after dealing with a crazed fan on stage. Naturally, he couldn't care less about anyone else, but that doesn't stop you from trying to make him jealous in return. Someone will have to be the sacrificial lamb to his murderous possessiveness.
Content: female reader, obsessive behavior, violence, death, reader and yandere are both psycho
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]
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The screen of your phone lights up again and you only need a quick glance to know what it is. Another post about last night’s event. About your bodyguard. You sink your nails into the leather chair and look ahead towards the mirror, exchanging a smile with the hairstylist.
“Oh, it looks lovely! You always do such a great job.” You compliment the woman as you tilt your head both ways, admiring the gentle curls. Now get the fuck out already.
“I’m so glad! Is there anything else you’d like me to-”
“No, that’s all. You can go”, you respond curtly.
The stylist collects her products and waves at you, exiting the room. The phone vibrates once more with a new notification, and you promptly throw it against the door. It scatters in large chunks of scrap across the plush carpet.
The whole ordeal happened within seconds. You were performing the final song of the evening when a fan hurled himself over the security barrier and onto the stage. The people standing at the very front began screaming and some took their phones out, scrambling for a good angle to record everything.
“Please, (Y/N), I’m your biggest fan!” the man pleaded, approaching you with shaking hands.
You froze in place, observing his actions with the same indifference of watching a TV ad that goes on for too long. Before the stranger could even reach your proximity, your bodyguard effortlessly and speedily threw him over the shoulder, giving you a reassuring nod and retreating backstage. He had that smile on his face that signaled he was pissed, and your mouth hung open in realization: You wouldn’t be able to witness the massacre.
You knew that expression all too well. That man would never see the light of day again, and under normal circumstances you would be right behind your bodyguard, cheering him on and suggesting ways to further torment of whoever dared to get too close to you.
And yet, your little ritual had been interrupted. You stood there on the stage, baffled, as the other idols gathered around you with worried looks. You poor thing. That must’ve been terrifying. The audience was shouting words of support, encouraging you to continue as if nothing happened. With pursed lips, you tightened your grip around the microphone and reassured everyone of your well-being. The show had to go on, regardless of your bloodlust.
This morning, you woke up to hundreds of posts online about the incident. Or rather, the way your bodyguard dealt with it. You scrolled through photos, videos, and confessions regarding the mysterious stranger who protected you from harm.
“I need a man like that in my life!”, “I know, right? So cool!”, “Imagine how easily he’d pick you up”, “The broad shoulders! I’m in love <3”
You don’t even have time to be properly upset about it. Your schedule for the day is packed with interviews and photoshoots. You glance in the mirror one final time and exit the room. The bodyguard has been waiting for you, resting against the wall with crossed arms.
“I need a new phone”, you tell him in a casual tone.
“What happened to the previous one?” He inquires, somewhat confused by your sudden request.
“Just do it!” You snap at the large man, rushing past him without providing any window for a reaction.
Ideally, you would very much like to tell him that the sudden influx of attention irritates you beyond comprehension. Then he’d reassure you that his indifference towards everyone else has not changed whatsoever, and thus your worries are entirely unfounded; but, if you need an outlet to release all that stress, he can easily find an empty changing room and service you like he always does.
Unfortunately, there is no time for that.
The bodyguard follows your movements with raised eyebrows, perplexed. What could’ve gotten you into such a sour mood? Has someone caused you to be upset? Are you still pouting after the missed playtime? He ponders the possibilities as he searches for an assistant.
The employee is visibly startled upon hearing his deep voice calling her. She turns obediently and nods, flashing her best customer-facing smile.
“Can you get (Y/N) a new phone?” he asks plainly.
“Huh? Sure…Did she specify any preferences? What was her previous model?”
He stares in confusion.
“…Can’t you guess?” she insists.
“I’m not good with these things.” The bodyguard rummages through his pocket and pulls out an old, cracked device to prove his point. “I don’t use phones much.”
Why would he? The only time he needs a phone is when he’s apart from you, which hasn’t happened since the Christmas incident. He previously considered a more modern option, so he could stalk your social media and make sure you don’t have any perverts sliding into your messages. That proved to be unnecessary, as you frequently leave your phone unattended or involve him in the process: most of your photos posted online nowadays are actually curated by his truly.
“Oh, so you don’t know about the recent craze?” The woman chuckles and takes out her own phone, speedily tapping on the screen before presenting it to the man. “See? You’re trending!”
He scans the multitude of messages. Ah, so that’s what it was. His lips curl into a grin. To think he’d witness his spoiled idol struggle with jealousy.
“That will be it for today!” the photographer announces, gesturing with his hands and guiding his helpers with the expensive equipment.
This was it, the last photoshoot. You unscrew the cap from your water bottle and take a healthy sip from it, wiping the sweat off your forehead with your other hand. The only good part about the continuous work was that you couldn’t check more of those annoying posts drooling over your bodyguard. Remembering it is enough to increase your heartbeat. The male model you were paired with for this campaign walks in your direction.
“Say, do you have anything planned after this?” He questions smugly. “You could come back to my place.”
What a ridiculous idea, you think with a grimace. Does this asshat think he’s worthy of your company? After a second of contemplation, you’re flooded with the same disappointment you felt back on the stage, watching your fan being carried away like a mere piece of cardboard over the much larger frame of your bodyguard. You might just consider the stupid offer. Why not? It’s not fair to be the only one plagued by jealousy.
“Sure. I know a better place, though.”
Your eyes narrow in a bright smile and you lead the young man towards your backstage room. As you pass by your bodyguard, you remember to mention in a low voice: “Make sure no one disturbs us.” He doesn’t answer, merely gazes at you with an empty expression.
“Man, that guy is scary as hell”, the model remarks as he throws himself in your vanity seat. “Are you not afraid to be alone with him?”
“Not really, no”, you respond idly. “You, on the other hand…”
“Excuse me?”
Now then. To set the scene, you gingerly climb into the man’s lap and adjust your arms around his neck. What a frail little human in comparison to your bodyguard. You blush in anticipation and begin counting in your head.
“H-hey, what did you mean-”
The young man is interrupted by someone’s abrupt intrusion. Your bodyguard throws you a quick glance before turning to close the door behind him. Alright, he can’t be too excited. He must pretend he’s furious, baffled, out for the hunt. You went all the way out for him. He even checked his watch to make sure you had enough time. He can’t let his enthusiasm betray him.
You jump out of the model’s hold with a gasp.
“It’s not what you think~!” you exclaim with feigned surprise. “He started flirting with me and I…” Your words trail off and you rub your arm nervously.
The bodyguard approaches the other man with monotonous movements and grabs him by the collar.
“Wait, you can’t possibly…he’s a well-known model!”, you protest with a fake cry.
Sweet little darling. Worry not, he won’t disappoint you. He’ll put on the best show for your sake. Anything to soothe your innocent heart.
“Could be the President himself”, your bodyguard confesses with a dash of theatrics, “and I’d still break his fucking neck for touching you.” He pulls out his pocketknife and looks at you. “I’ll deal with you in a moment, Miss.”
Your knees weaken and you have to rest against the vanity table. Among the screams and pleads for mercy coming from the poor butchered model, you can only focus on one thing: the violent fucking you’re about to receive.
Your bodyguard truly knows you best.
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depravitycentral · 4 months
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Enji Todoroki General Yandere Profile
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Yandere! Enji Todoroki x fem! reader
Tw: kidnapping, stalking, power imbalances, financial trapping, mentions of physical/domestic abuse, mentions of non-con, sexist undertones, Enji wants you to be his cute little housewife, mentions of breeding/pregnancy, a few mentions of making sure you eat enough/food, Enji is patronizing whoo boy, he makes you share a toothbrush and yes he's weird about it, this is set in a divergent timeline where Enji and Rei are formally divorced and his relationship with his family is loose and not super tight, fem reader, MDNI
I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!
WC: 11K
DARLING PROFILE:
Kind
Enji is, simply, harsh.
His quirk, his mannerisms, his attitude, his everything, really, is a bit rough around the edges, forming a man with only enough self control to get what he wants. He’s lived his whole life bitterly, constantly jealous, constantly wanting, willing to throw everything away in order to achieve his goals.
And once everything starts caving in around him, his family and career both taking unexpected turns, Enji finds himself so, so painfully alone. He doesn’t pretend to delude himself into thinking he’s not deserving of his fate, but this places him into a position where he shoulders the guilt while desperately trying to find any outlet to forget it.
And this is where a darling who is kind comes into play – he needs someone who won’t judge him for his past. He needs someone who doesn’t treat him like scum, who is still polite and empathetic to him and his emotions. A darling who is able to consistently praise him will have him smitten quickly, growing emotionally dependent on hearing their sweet words in order to function, in order to not let the depression and stress get the better of him.
And even once his obsession has formed and he’s deep in the depth of his infatuation, a darling who is just too kind to kick him to the curbside is absolutely essential for him – they must be doting and caring, helping rebuild his shattered confidence and psyche, and with every compliment they dish out, Enji vows that he’ll return the sentiment tenfold, in his own way of course.
(This means buying his darling millions of yen worth of their favorite things, all kinds of wonderful gifts that he hopes will sway them in his favor, that will get them drooling over him and all that he can provide for them.)
Hardworking
Although he’s in a mental state that leaves him much more susceptible to finding a partner once he divorces Rei, Enji is still a picky man. He won’t fall for just anyone – no, they must fit his standard, be acceptable and meet the rather long and detailed checklist he has for those he considers as potential romantic partners.
And near the top of this list is determination. He’s a man motivated by his own goals and is willing to stop at nothing to achieve them – and so, a darling that can at least somewhat match this aspect of his personality is critical.
He has no patience for a darling that gives up easily; he wants someone that’s willing to put in the effort to see it pay off, someone who understands the concept of self-discipline and holding yourself to certain moral standards.
He finds it wildly attractive when someone has strong character, and his interest would immediately be piqued with a darling who brings an attitude of perseverance and hard work into every aspect of their life, be it work, their hobbies, their relationship, and everything in between.
He wants someone who is perhaps not quite as stubborn as him, but is still serious in their goals.
(He hopes that one day, making him happy and pleasing him will be one of these goals – just as pleasing his darling is one of his own. And he’s more than happyto please them in whatever way they so desire. More than happy.)
Motherly
Because he views his darling as the perfect wife, his darling absolutely must possess at least somewhat of a motherly air about them. He likes the idea of having a nurturing partner, if only because he finds it endearing when they care for others.
As a hero he shares this sentiment, and although it may sometimes be overshadowed by his need to become the best, deep down inside he does very much wish to help others – his methodology is just a little more violent, a little more overt.
His darling, by contrast, should prefer a methodology that’s much gentler, something that focuses more on making others feel safe and heard and cared for.
Besides, Enji very much desires to have children with his darling; to build a second family, one that he’ll care for and nourish much better than his first. And so, if his darling is to be a good mother, they must embody these traits.
Besides, although he doesn’t fall for his darling because of his fantasies of making them a mother, once the feelings are formed these daydreams only further his feelings, deepening his obsession because oh, he’d give absolutely anything to see them pregnant with his child, carrying his seed, creating something that symbolizes the love and dedication between them.
And so, his darling needs to be someone who naturally takes care of others – and in return, Enji will take care of them. Just how it should be.
Pushover
This trait is a bit less crucial compared to the others, but it’s still most definitely a positive from Enji’s perspective.
Of course he likes a darling who has strong opinions and stands up for them, but he loves a darling that will let him guide them through any hard decisions, or really any decisions at all.
Although he’s not as outright controlling with his darling, he still very much feels that he wears the pants in the ‘relationship’, and thus he is the one calling the shots.
A darling who is happy to let him take over their life like this is a massive help to him – he doesn’t have to fight for control, nor does he have to argue with them about why certain decisions really should be made by him as the more dominant partner, as the one who knows more about the world, as the man. It’s an outdated view and it’s one that he doesn’t really want to admit out loud, but he enjoys the idea of a partner who will revere him and allow him full control.
He wants to be loved and cherished, and in return for a love like this, he’ll do his best to provide for and take care of his darling in every way he possibly can – so really, if his darling knows what’s best for them, they’ll step back and let him make all the tough decisions.
They’ll nod and smile and agree with whatever he chooses, pressing a kiss against his cheek and telling him how much they trust him, how they know he’d never hurt them, how he only wants what’s best for them.
Just the thought makes something warm swell in his stomach, the level of trust making him feel wanted, needed, a concept so foreign that it almost feels wrong. But oh, how he likes it.
GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:
Controlling
But in a very, very strange way – a lot of what fuels Enji’s obsession is this desperate, innate need to right his wrongs. He’s very, very aware of how thoroughly he ruined his family, how horribly he treated Rei, how he was a poor excuse of a father and husband, and he sees his love with you as almost being his second try. With you, he can do all the things he should have done with Rei and his children – he should have been sweet and loving, a present father that cared about each of his children equally. He should have been a doting husband, spoiling his wife and making her feel loved and desired.
But he didn’t, and although Rei has long since divorced him, Enji finds himself feeling lonely, incomplete, restless to try again, to properly provide for a sweet little thing he can call his own. And this is where you come in – and from the moment he realizes his feelings for you are more than a simple attraction, he dives in head-first.
He decides he'll approach everything with you in a way as opposite from his previous marriage as possible – he's all grand, romantic gestures, always showing up with a bouquet of flowers in hand and just the slightest pink tint on his scarred cheeks.
The grand, romantic gestures are, of course, merely things he’s seen in rom-coms; the women always look happy when the love interest swoops in with flowers and gifts and pretty clothing, the beaming smile and large hug the man gets as a reward seeming very, very appealing to Enji, despite his rigid exterior.
(Just the thought of you hugging him has his heart racing – it’s something so intimate, so entirely new that it makes every nerve in his body stand on edge, a shiver running up his spine as he imagines the way your body would feel pressed against his, how you’d sigh and sink further against him, how you’d squeeze him and god, the view he’d get when he looks down to see your body pressed so tightly against him that not even a breath of air could separate you -)
He’s scouring through women’s magazines, burying his nose in the glossy pages and searching for ideas and clues as to what women enjoy as courting gifts.
(He has to scoff under his breath every time he sees a new dieting tip or regiment, internally frowning and worrying that you’re seeing these ads and potentially obsessing over your weight. The last thing he’d want is for you to be unhappy with your body – certainly not when he’s so very happy with it. Not to mention the nutritionally heinous foods the magazine recommends – he’d sooner have you eat raw paper than follow this ludicrous advice.)
He’s even caving and very, very awkwardly asking his female sidekicks and employees at his agency about their tips on how to seduce a woman. He struggles to make eye contact with them when he asks, his imposing figure almost reminding them of a shy, nervous teenage boy with the way he’s so earnest about his question, his eyes lighting up when they mention an idea he hasn’t tried yet, pressing them for details and specifics and you must tell me what to say to her – how does one follow up gifting a puppy?
It would be sweet, really, how devoted he is to making sure that you’re absolutely spoiled, that you get a whole variety of lavish gifts designed to sweep you off your feet. It would be wonderful, really, except that Enji has never understood the concept of being too much – which is how everything will start to feel very, very early on in this process.
 It was nice at first to receive a fresh bouquet of roses every morning at your desk with a handwritten card attached. (Written in impeccable handwriting, the cursive letters looping and elegant as they spell out short, simple, sweet messages signed with a capital E at the bottom, reading please make sure to eat enough today and that skirt looks lovely on you.)
 It was nice at first, but after the second week of daily bouquets and even a few finding their way to the doorstep of your apartment, the sight of the pretty red flowers makes a sinking feeling swirl in your gut.
(Enji notices this, dismayed and frustrated by your lack of a positive response, and decides to double down and just gift you bigger flowers, because maybe your lack of joy at receiving the bouquets is because they aren’t big enough, aren’t grandiose enough, aren’t good enough.)
It was nice to get the cute, small stuffed bunny on your desk one morning, and you’d even grown so fond of the little thing that you perched it on the edge of your desk, assuming it was a one-time gift. But it wasn’t – the stuffed animals kept coming, getting bigger and more detailed and much, much more expensive, you’re sure.
(Enji is careful to remove each and every price tag on every gift he sends you, simply because he doesn’t want you to feel that you owe him financially, nor does he want you to be swayed into accepting him as your partner by mere economic standing – that’s an asset that you’ll come to know, of course, but he’d rather lure you in via more traditional ways. It doesn’t exactly stay secret, though, because once the necklace with a delicate array of at least five diamonds in it arrives at your front door, your secret admirer’s wealth becomes very, very difficult to hide.)
He’s gifting you jewelry with more precious jewels and gold and silver than you could possibly wear, and outfitting your closet with all kinds of dresses and skirts out of materials and cuts you could never hope to afford for yourself.
(And, of course, they’re all tailored to fit you perfectly – how Enji managed to get your exact sizes is still a question that haunts you, one that makes you scared to upon the nicely wrapped boxes that you find in excess outside your front door.)
It’s all just too damn much – Enji is suffocating with his attempts to woo you, his every gift and gesture leaving you feeling uncomfortable. What he’s trying to do is very, very obvious – and it feels wrong. He’s the number one hero, a busy man with much more important things to be doing – so why is he going after you? And why with such ferocity?
His forwardness will scare you off, driving you to avoid him and grow suspicious of his motives, and Enji does not like this development. This wasn’t supposed to happen – you’re supposed to want him, to be seduced by all of his efforts, to be swept off your feet and swooned by his gifts and words (delivered with the grace of a garbage truck, of course, but the sentiment is there – even if looking at your pretty face distracts him, all the words leaving his head and making him stand there gaping like a fool).
 Enji doesn’t like it, and so he presses harder, stepping up the frequency and volume of his gifts, only effectively pushing you further and further away from him as you grow more uneased and unsettled. And if you were to confront him about it?
Well, this is where his controlling tendencies come into play – denying who he naturally is can only last for so long, and despite being a man with superb self-restraint, the moment that Enji feels you’re slipping from his fingers he’s morphing back into the man that commands your every move.
Suddenly he’s no longer presenting you with the newest shampoo you’ve been talking about (it’s salon grade, the best stuff out there, and much too expensive, but not for Enji – nothing is too expensive for him when it’s for you) but rather letting this expression wash over his face, one that you’ve never seen before.
It’s cold, remarkably so; his lips are pressed tightly together, his brows perfectly straight, those eyes lifeless as he tells you to stop fighting, go inside and change into the green dress I gave you last week. We’re going for dinner, and you’ll order the house salad and a slice of chocolate cake for dessert. Do you understand me?
 It’s weird and unexpected and scary, and it’ll have you immediately stuttering out a yes and scurrying inside, too frightened to disobey. And really, while Enji winces every time he does this, eventually he finds himself trying to justify it as simply ensuring your relationship will last.
Obviously it’s not good that he has to force you into these small, minor, inconsequential things (like going on a date with him or letting him accompany you home afterwards), but this is different from with Rei – you want this, right? You’re just too shy to tell him how flattered you are about all the attention he’s giving you.
You’re just playing coy, acting on your age-old feminine instincts to make men chase after you, to be demure and make your partner work for your affection and love. And eventually, Enji will convince himself that this is different, he’s wooing you and getting you into a relationship with him willingly – you want him.
You practically love him already – things are going well. They’re successful.
They have to be.
And so, while Enji doesn’t mean to be controlling, the end results is that although he plays the nice guy that spoils you and gives you anything your heart desires, at the end of the day he is the one in charge, and he is the one dictating your relationship.
And really, what can you do to stop him? He’s strong, both physically and with the general population – one word from him and you’d be hunted for like a madman, ostracized from the community, brought back to him like a pup to its owner.
You belong with him, and it’s his job to make you see that – even if you want to remain blind.
Possessive
Enji Todoroki doesn’t share. Once he decides that he wants you, you become unequivocally his.
Sure, he wants to do things a bit differently with you and get you to harbor more loving feelings towards him, but from the moment his infatuation forms you don’t really have a choice in the matter.
 You can pretend like you do, if it makes you feel better (and it will, because at least you can pretend that you have even an ounce of control in the relationship, that you aren’t just some adorable little thing he’s decided he wants hanging off his arm and warming his bed), but at the end of the day you’re subject to Enji’s whims.
And although Enji lets you harbor this fantasy of your relationship being truly consensual, the moment something occurs that threatens it, his true colors are shown. Namely, when he thinks your attention is veering away from him, his jealousy and anger become difficult to keep in check, his quirk acting up and letting off small sparks and flames all along his body. His fists clench and his jaw tightens when he sees another man around you, and although he tries to rationalize that the man likely doesn’t want anything to do with you, just simply being in your presence is enough to make Enji suspicious.
Even if the man isn’t talking to you or acknowledging you in any way, he’s anxious – he’s scared that something about this man will attract you, that you’ll somehow find him better than Enji.
Maybe the man is friendlier – Enji’s aware that he isn’t exactly the most approachable person on the planet.
Maybe he's funnier – Enji knows he can’t crack a joke to save his life.
Maybe he’s a better conversationalist – less formalities and awkwardness, able to get you laughing so hard you snort.
It makes Enji’s skin crawl, his knuckles turning white from how hard he’s fisting his hands, and before long he will intervene. He’ll grab you as gently as he can on the elbow, guiding you carefully but quickly away to the other side of the room and physically maneuvering so that his body is blocking your sight of the man – and more importantly, blocking his sight of you.
He’ll try to talk with you, trying to distract you and get your mind off of the other man, all in an effort to get your attention back on him. He’s reminding you that you have him, that you don’t need some other man, that you already have one who’s capable of providing for you and caring for you as you deserve.
Frankly, he discovers just how deeply his feelings for you run in a situation where jealousy gets the best of him – you’d been approached at a small gathering by a man from another agency who was clearly hitting on you. He was leaning in close, smiling with a smarmy smirk and nursing on his cocktail like a lifeline.
Enji had noticed the two of you out of the corner of his eye, and immediately he’d gone stiff. He couldn’t stop staring at the way the man kept getting gradually closer to you, how he kept leaning in further, how his hand slid from his pocket to your shoulder, then your arm, down to your hand and oh, oh god, it looks like he’s bringing it down to your waist –
Enji had been by your side in mere moments, his gaze card and harsh as he’d stepped in front of you, making some poorly toned excuse about needing to speak with you for a moment, before unceremoniously dragging you away from the stupefied man.
From that day, Enji absolutely refuses to allow anyone close to you. And really, can he be blamed? After all, he fell for you, so why wouldn’t anyone else? You’re beautiful and caring, smart and dignified, and if he can see your potential as a lovely, perfect little wife, surely others can too.
And so, Enji ramps up his controlling tendencies the more he’s presented with situations where the green-eyed monster accompanies him. And this control takes its main form through financials – that is, while Enji originally didn’t want to attract you to him via his material wealth, he decides it’s a necessary evil in order to have you staying by his side only.
He starts ‘forgetting’ to peel off the price tags of the gifts he gives you, pretending not to notice how your eyes practically bug out of your head when you unbox the pink pendant he’d bought for you.
He starts inviting you out for lunches and dinners more often, ordering for you and choosing the most expensive items off the menu despite your numerous pleas that you’ll opt for something – anything – cheaper.
(It’s frustrating, too, because as angry as you want to be at him for ordering for you, he always chooses something you end up liking – of course it’s because he’s done extensive research and stalking, finding out your favorite foods and what flavors you dislike, but it all seems like one large, awfully strange coincidence to you.)
Exerting financial control over you keeps you complacent, because the guilt you’ll feel at how much money he’s sinking into you will have you following his every word, even if it his commands are a little strange and off-putting – like spending less time with any male friends (or really any friends for that matter) or slipping the small photograph of him into your purse (it’s weird and you do so hesitantly, making sure the polaroid is at the bottom of the bag – and trying to ignore the way his muscles are oh-so fucking defined in the tight black shirt he’s sporting in the photograph).
It’s all just a big ploy to keep you from running off with some other man – but really, if you somehow did manage to do that, Enji won’t be particularly merciful. He will be cornering the man as he leaves your apartment and he will be holding him by the neck against the cold concrete wall, threatening him to leave you alone or experience the rather unpleasant sensation of burning alive.
It’s not particularly heroic, but Enji doesn’t care – he can’t, not when the threat of you leaving him for another man is very much present and real. It’s too scary, too much for him to handle – it would mean you rejecting him, his second fuck-up in love, and the loss of someone who fits absolutely every one of his desires in a woman.
You’re too perfect for him to lose – so instead, he’ll own you.
Dependent
He will never admit it, but there’s this part of Enji that grows stronger day by day, every time he sees your face, that tells him in the most raw, real way that he absolutely needs you.
He’s essentially lost what he had of his family, and with the sharp uptake in responsibility as the new number one hero, the new symbol of modern peace, Enji finds himself turning to you in his time of need, in his more vulnerable moments.
Because really, though his exterior is tough and jaded, he’s only human – he too needs someone to love, someone to hold and latch onto, and latch he does. You’re his, and he expects you to understand that even if he doesn’t verbalize it.
He cherishes your very existence, each and every thing you do, finding you to be remarkably weak yet remarkably endearing, your inability to defend yourself simultaneously adorable and frustrating. He needs you to realize that you’re his everything; his whole reason for living now, even if he doesn’t give you many clues into this.
He isn’t the best at expressing his emotions, and although the love and desperation he feels for you is constantly overwhelming him, overflowing from his chest and making him dizzy, he doesn’t articulate just how deeply these feelings run.
Of course he’ll tell you how you’re beautiful, or that you’re my responsibility to protect, but he’ll also say significantly less romantic things like how you belong to him, how he's never letting you out that front door, how he’ll never let those disgusting, filthy villains touch something as perfect as you.
He thinks it’s sweet and exactly what you want to hear, but it’s not – it’s scary and strange and weird, but these are your biggest clues as to his dependence on you.He won’t tell you, but his expectations for you are honestly monumentally high; he wants you to be his perfect little wife, everything that Rei wasn’t, and this includes giving you every ounce of his love.
He wants you to be diligently cooking him hearty meals, keeping the house tidy and clean for the two of you, to be massaging his shoulders while he relaxes from a stressful day at work. (Hell, he even wants you to wear cute little aprons, collars with his name stitched onto them, those maternity/breast feeding bras before you’re even pregnant…)
He wants a domestic fantasy with you, and this extends to other, more vulnerable things as well. He expects you to embrace him as he walks through the door everyday returning home, to give him a light peck on the cheek and ask about his day, to let him hug you from behind and kiss your neck as you slave away over the stove.
He never really got the chance to do such loving things with Rei (not that he particularly wanted to), and as a result he honestly feels like he’s having to make up time, that he needs to be taking every single ounce of affection and love you can possibly give him, and he’ll feel no guilt at all.
He won’t outright ask you to cuddle him, but when he sits on the large, overstuffed leather couch and stares at you expectantly, you’ll quickly learn to run over to him and snuggle up into his side, to bury your face into his chest and wrap your arms and legs around him even if his body heat cooks you alive.
He won’t ever explicitly ask you to give him those fluttery, soft morning kisses he’s seen all the time in terrible corny rom-coms he religiously watched for inspiration while trying to court you, but the moment you smile sleepily at him and press a kiss against his lips while you holds you close in the morning glow?
God, it’s in those moments that he wants to give you absolutely everything he has – every part of his body, soul and heart, every single cent he owns, every piece of fame and fortune he’s ever amassed.
Enji just wants to please you, and although he comes off as an odd mix of demanding yet generous, terrifying yet strangely awkward, inside his heart is hammering against his ribcage every time you so much as smile at him, every time you so much as look at him. In the hazy afterglow of a round of passionate morning sex (in which you’ve realized that fighting will get you nowhere – it’ll only earn you an Enji that’s more frantic and desperate to get you moaning and crying out his name), when he latches onto your smaller, exhausted and sweaty body, pressing you as tightly against him as possible, sometimes his demeanor will crack.
He’ll lean down to deeply inhale the scent of your hair, to watch the way your chest rises and falls, and he’ll whisper in the softest of voices that he loves you, you’re the light of his world. He doesn’t know what he’d do without you, but Enji is hellbent on never finding out – after all, there is no chance of escape with him, and he’s sure you’ll learn your place soon.
After all, pretty, submissive girls like you always do.
DEALING WITH RIVALS: 
Enji is, regrettably, terrible at hiding his jealousy.
He’s always been in a constant state of envy, whether it was vying for the top spot in the heroing world against All Might, desiring the perfect offspring in order to have the Todoroki name and himself live on, and countless other examples. He’s prideful and so fucking jealous of everyone around him, and this is only heightened when it comes to you – his possessiveness over you is nothing to sneeze at, and the minute he feels that your attention is threatened, that you could possibly be yearning for another?
He’s wasting no time stepping in, mercilessly shutting down each and every opportunity you could possibly have of being with anyone other than himself.
As much as he’s loathe to admit it, his jealousy and possessiveness stems from a place of insecurity; he’s aware that he’s by no means the perfect partner, and he rationally knows that you could do much, much better than him.
And so, as a sort of panic-induced response, Enji decides that you simply aren’t allowed to interact with any other men – this way, you aren’t presented with the opportunity to even let the feelings form. And he’s diligent with this theory, too – he’s always standing near you, acting as your shadow with watchful, hawk-like eyes trained on your figure.
He’s never been the best at reading people, but he’s able to tell from miles away when someone approaches you with intentions that are less than innocent, and immediately his lips are thinning, his brows furrowing, his entire body temperature raising by five degrees because you’re his, and this piece of scum disguised as a man obviously doesn’t realize this.
He’s your guardian angel in many ways (though really, he takes the guardian portion much too far – even men who have no romantic intentions with you are viewed as potential threats, shooed away with a vengeance that will make them too afraid to even think about you without imagining themselves engulfed in flames), though at times it will make you feel more than a little patronized.
It’s as if he doesn’t trust you – you don’t really have a relationship, at least in your eyes, but you know the number one hero wants something more than friendship with you. And so, you do your best to avoid evoking his anger and wrath by not romantically involving yourself with another man – and yet that’s not enough for Enji.
It can’t be, simply because as pretty and sweet and smart as you may be, Enji will always know better. It’s a controlling tendency and a mildly sexist view, but he thinks of you as his doting, loving housewife-to-be, and it’s the man’s job to make these sorts of decisions.
You’re just too sweet and outgoing for your own good – you’ll get mixed up in all sorts of trouble if you’re not careful, and lucky little you has someone like Enji to watch out for you and make sure your pretty head has nothing to worry about. And so, Enji sticks to you like glue, warding off potential suitors with grueling stares and a presence and reputation too strong to ignore.
Enji’s day had been long, and one of those days that made him seriously question his abilities as a hero. A villain had managed to trick him, and although Enji had of course eventually arrested the perpetrator, his deception had led to a lot of wasted time and more damage to surrounding buildings than was acceptable.
His head was pounding, his body still feeling overly hot from all of the fighting, and though not normal, he’d decided he was done for the day and left the rest of the agency’s calls to his sidekicks. Leaving early had felt almost freeing in a way, the world looking a bit different with all this extra time – walking down the sidewalk, Enji scanned the windows of each shop he passed.
As per usual, you’d been on his mind all day – flashes of your face sitting just behind his eyelids, your name just a hair away on his tongue, the feeling of your phantom touch sending shivers down his spine. It was irritating, distracting, heavenly, and with each window he passed, he kept an eye out for anything you might like.
He’d gotten you a pretty tea cup set yesterday, and although you’d been hesitant and visibly uncomfortable at receiving such a gift (the set was very, very obviously expensive, the marbled china too perfect and pristine to have costed anything less than a year’s worth of your salary), Enji was eager to gift you something that would be received better today.
Streets passed by, nothing quite suiting his vision for what you deserved – he’d need something more subtle today, something simple and sweet and something he knows you like – The confectionary is small, with swirling black letters over a baby pink banner spelling out the name of the store. The windows are lined with all sorts of chocolates and candies, all wrapped up in pretty, ornate packaging that makes Enji immediately pick up his pace, practically storming into the small shop.
It smells like vanilla and sugar as the door shuts behind him, and although it makes him wince, he knows you’d love it. Shelves nearly as tall as him line the shop in narrow rows, displaying all sorts of sweets that he’s never heard of before – caramels, gumdrops, chocolates, lollipops, anything and everything under the sun.
He’s only been in the store for roughly five minutes, staring at a collection of truffles with furrowed brows and a downward curl of his lip when he hears a small laugh over the gentle, happy classical music playing quietly over the speakers. Immediately he’s perking up – the laugh sounds familiar; the lilt of it, the tonality, the soft intake of breath right after it stops.
His lips part, eyes going wide, and before he can even really control himself he’s rushing towards the source of the noise, his entire face growing warm when he sees you – you’re at the register, a few candies sitting on the wooden slab, your purse in hand as you fish for presumably your wallet.
You look gorgeous today – you’re wearing a shirt he’s never seen before and your favorite pair of jeans (the ones that make your ass look so, so very perfect – perfect to squeeze at, to grope and touch and smack and press himself against…), and although he’s briefly disappointed that you aren’t wearing an item of clothing that he’d gifted you, he notices the clerk all too soon.
The clerk – Hyoshi, his nametag says – is smiling at you. He’s all teeth, a grin that makes the hairs on the back of Enji’s neck stand up, his nostrils flaring because you’d been laughing, and it must be this man’s doing. This man, who’s visibly weak even under the ridiculous confectionary uniform he’s sporting – arms that couldn’t hope to lift even a fraction of what Enji can, a chest that isn’t ruggedly defined like the hero’s, and a stature that’s frankly pathetic compared to the frame of the redheaded man behind you.
Enji’s angry, and as the man opens his mouth to presumably say something else (potentially something that’ll make you laugh again), his words die on his tongue as he glances behind you to see the behemoth of a man who’s quite literally acting as your shadow.
His eyes widen and immediately he’s stuttering out a w-welcome in, Endeavor! At that, your shoulders go stiff, your mouth parting into an adorable little ‘o’ that Enji can practically see in his head, and you slowly turn around.
Oh, hello Endeavor, aren’t you normally on patrol right now?
Enji’s jaw works, and although a small part of him is pleasantly surprised that you’d remembered his patrol shift, your words only serve to further frustrate him. You knew it was his time on the clock – and yet, you’d still ventured out into the heart of downtown, completely on your own, defenseless except for the measly, very sad pepper spray you keep in that worn purse of yours – both of which he keeps pleading with you to let him replace.
(He’ll get you new pepper spray and a taser and a pocketknife, just because he knows how dangerous these streets can be, and with your pretty face and your pretty body he’s sure villains would be lining out the door to get a taste of you. And of course, the new bag – he’s bought you plenty, in a wide variety of styles and colors, each gift getting more and more desperate to be the one you finally deem as being good enough to use, but alas.)
Enji doesn’t even bother with a greeting, instead stepping up to the counter, slamming down his credit card and stepping in front of you. I’ll be paying for her sweets. His voice is cold, firm, and sends the clerk into a scurry to process the transaction, meanwhile you’re staring in mild shock from behind the hero.
Of course you’re not surprised – how can you be, when he insists on spoiling you in every possible way? And yet the raw animosity he’s radiating right now can’t be ignored – you get the feeling as if you’re somehow in trouble, though you can’t figure out what for. As soon as the card reader beeps, Enji’s scooping up the card and your sweets, his thick fingers wrapping around your wrist just barely too tightly and marching out the door, telling the clerk over his shoulder to keep the receipt.
It takes every bone in his body to not turn back around and swing at the man behind the counter, his eyes shutting tightly in concentration as he tells himself that it’s not worth it, the media will find out, your reputation will be damaged. But as his eyes peel open and he realizes the way you’re squirming in his grip, he only sighs and releases you, those teal eyes of his appraising you with a frown.
You’re feeling guilty again, unsure of yourself as you gently rub your wrist, and for a moment Enji feels regret – did he hurt you? He hadn’t meant to, he’d just been angry and it was already hard enough to not harm the man who’d made you laugh, and surely you’d understand that he didn’t mean to –
You break the silence before he can voice his concerns, clearing your throat and thanking him in a meek voice. Enji merely nods, a small grunt your only response as he begins walking again, your sweets – and your purse – firmly in his hands, just so that you won’t have to carry them.
When you don’t immediately follow him, Enji pauses, looking back over his shoulder with a brow cocked.
What? Follow me – we have dinner reservations this evening, at that new seafood restaurant by the harbor. Fuyumi tells me it’s quite good; order the crab legs and the caviar.
There’s no room for disagreement in his tone, and for a moment you just blankly gape at him, the situation too strange for you to really process.
But all too soon his eyes are narrowing, and you’re practically tripping over your feet to follow him, keeping your gaze cast downwards as Enji’s hand rests on the small of your back, guiding you even though there’s not a civilian in sight on the desolated sidewalk he leads you down.
TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:
Honestly, Enji is complicated as a yandere; there’s a part of him that knows that there are aspects of his relationship with you that mirror that of his previous marriage. He knows that although you may not be treated as terribly (and that you have more purpose to him than simply an incubator), you’re still trapped, essentially a slave to his will.
And yet, as time passes and his dependence on you grows stronger, he can’t help but justify his actions, deciding that yes, you may be stuck with him, but at least he spoils you rotten with your favorite foods, expensive clothing and jewels, an unlimited supply for each and every hobby you may have. He may have you trapped between a rock and a hard place in terms of leaving him, but at least he genuinely loves you - he aches to spend time with you, to hold you in his arms, to feel your heartbeat against his ear, your lips against his, your body writhing below his.
He’s convinced himself that this time is different, that you’re different, and as such he eventually decides that it’s really in both your best interests to just relocate you, to get you officially by his side. It’s really paranoia that drives this decision – he’s a working hero and a man with many, many enemies, and so it’s really the only option that keeps you safe.
Stealing you away into his private home – he’s the sole inhabitant, aside from a cleaner or two, since moving out of the Todoroki household – is the best option for a multitude of different reasons. You’re safer this way – the state-of-the-art security systems he’s installed around the estate are the best money can pay for, able to detect intruders and any suspicious activity in the blink of an eye. Enemies don’t have much of a chance of getting inside, and even if they had managed to, Enji will be right there to burn them to a crisp for even daring to get close to his beloved.
And even aside from outside threats, keeping you trapped at home will allow him to keep an eye on you and make sure that you don’t accidentally hurt yourself – you’re ridiculously clumsy to him, your every action having him hold his breath slightly in anticipation, in fear that you’ll somehow trip or fall or bruise your pretty skin. Plus, this way he’ll know that you’re eating healthily and in the right quantities, that you’re getting proper exercise, that you’re relaxing as you should, that you’re spending adequate amounts of time in the interior courtyard he’d prepared in preparation for you.
(It’s beautiful, as loathe as you are to admit it – all kinds of flowers bloom along the walkways, bamboo and tall grasses and trees growing in neat lines and providing shade for the flowerbeds on hot summer days. There’s even a small stream flowing through it, the gentle trickling noise almost enough to cancel out the painful silence that exists between you and Enji when he decides to join you for your scheduled garden time in the afternoons – uninvited, as always, and yet still unable to sense how desperately you wish you’d get these times alone to yourself.)
Aside from your safety, keeping you in his home helps feeds into his domestic fantasies of the two of you – you’re so very precious to him, and from nearly the beginning of his obsession with you, he’s always viewed you as the perfect wife – specifically, the perfect housewife.
He’s a traditional man, believing in traditional gender roles, and although he doesn’t view you as being less-than based upon your status as a woman, he does expect certain things from you. He’s the breadwinner, the strong, capable one who provides you with a roof over your head, food, and any gift under the sun the moment you make even the slightest inclination of wanting it.
And in return, you’re to be his caring, nurturing wife – the one who keeps the house neat and tidy, a room dedicated to only cleaning supplies that you get always stay stocked and ready for you, should you become inspired and wish to fulfill this domestic fantasy of his. The cleaning products are all diluted down to a level that wouldn’t be dangerous if you were to ingest them – you’d get sick, surely, but it’s nothing a home-trip from a doctor who’s been sworn to secrecy can’t handle.
There’s also, unfortunately, a drawer within the room that a particularly bored you had one day opened only to immediately slam it shut. Dozens of cleaning outfits sat neatly folded in the drawer, the black and white getups looking much too tight and much too short. A few weeks later you’d returned to the drawer, bored out of your mind while Enji was away at work, peeling one out with careful and trembling fingers. And of course, to no one’s surprise, the outfit fit like a fucking glove – hugging your curves and accentuating them, the skirt full and flouncy and very easy to flip up, the bustline practically choking your breasts with how tightly the black cotton pressed them together. You’d changed out of it shortly after, the rather disturbing and shameful fleeting question of whether this was the type of thing Enji liked making you too disgusted, guilty, and bashful to really consider.
In his idealized domestic world, you’d cook for him, too, but it takes a very long time for him to trust you enough to not purposefully burn or cut yourself in the kitchen. He has daydreams about coming home from a hectic work day to see you standing over the stove in a cute apron, humming some song and lighting up when you hear the door open and close, his announcement of being home making you practically bounce on your heels.
He wants to have you cook for him, to see you slave in the kitchen putting every ounce of your concentration and time into making him a meal you know he’ll enjoy, but that fantasy has to wait for the time being – just until he thinks you’ve finally lost that rebellious streak of yours, just until you finally come to realize that you belong by Enji’s side.
And so, in the meantime he’ll have you make him small things that hold little potential for you to hurt yourself with – simple sandwiches with pre-sliced ingredients, so that you won’t cut yourself chopping tomatoes or slicing bread. He'll have you prepare a sandwich for him and one for yourself, too, ordering you to sit down at the dining table with him and share a meal – though the conversation is hard to come by, and each attempt he makes at starting it is only met with single word answers from you.
(Another domestic fantasy he harbors but would never tell you about is to have you sitting with him at the table, looking at him with those pretty eyes and your voice dropping to a sultry volume, your chopsticks bringing the food you diligently and loving prepared for him up to his lips, your tone teasing as you tell him to open wide! He’d keep eye contact the whole time he chews, never once breaking it as he tells you in that low, gruff voice of his that it’s perfectly done, the seasoning is impeccable. He wants you to be bashful, to smile and hide it with your hand, your lashes fluttering as you glance at him then back to the food again, too shy to say much but your body language showing just how much his praise effects you, just how good it feels to be the center of his attention, the apple of his eye, his absolute everything.)
He wants you to be his sweet housewife, and although he won’t force you into any of the work, it’s extremely obvious what he wants of you – he’s always telling you about when you get adjusted, how you’ll be more open to fulfilling your role.
When you’re more adjusted, you’ll be happy to iron his clothes; perhaps you’ll spritz a bit of the perfume he buys you onto his shirts, just as a reminder of you during his long days.
(As if he needs a reminder – certainly not, when you’re on his mind nearly every minute of the day.)
When you’re more adjusted, you’ll be pleased to see the positive pregnancy test in your trembling hands, your voice riddled with joy as you announce the good news to him, watching him drop the phone and keys in his hand and instead hoist you into the air, spinning you with a grin on his face so bright it nearly blinds you, concluded with a passionate kiss and a few tears on his cheeks because he just can’t fucking wait to have you as the mother of his child.
It’s all this talk of ‘when this’ and ‘when that’, but the strange thing about Enji as a captor is that he’s incredibly patient with seeing these fantasies come to fruition – sure, he may be forcing you into being a housewife just as he did with Rei, but this is different – you get a choice about some of it, unlike her. You don’t have to do the dishes, but you can if you’d like. You don’t have to bear his children, but you can if you’d like.
(And frankly, it’ll be hard not to – once your need for human contact and your strange, mixed feelings for him grow, you’ll eventually give into his requests for intimacy, and once the floodgates are open, you will end up pregnant from the sheer frequency and volume at which he pumps you full of his cum.)
All that being said, life as Enji’s captive will honestly not be too terrible – he’s still following you around the house like a shadow, but he’ll let you sleep in your own bed at the start, let you have your own bedroom and bathroom, and he won’t even force you into spending time with him at the beginning.
Because really, as tortuous and painful as keeping you away from him is, he repeats the mantra over and over in his head that eventually it’ll be worth it – eventually you’ll see things his way, and eventually you’ll come to see just how deeply his feelings for you run. You’ll realize that he’s only ever loved you, that he cares for you more than any other man possibly could, that he only has your best interests at heart – that’s why he always swung by your apartment at the end of his patrols, peering in at you through your windows, just to make sure you were safe and sound.
That’s why he kidnapped you, to ensure your safety and keep you in the arms of the only man truly capable of providing for you, just as you deserve.
That’s why he’ll never let you escape him, no matter how you beg and plead for your freedom – you don’t understand the outside world like he does. You think you do, but each villain he arrests is a nail in the coffin of your freedom – you have no fucking clue how dangerous the world is, and Enji isn’t hesitant to remind you of this.
You’re unhappy with him? Well, your options are here, in his warm house where he’s willing to give you every ounce of his attention, love, and touch, or out in the big, scary world where women like you are easy targets for men who love destroying easy targets.
So really, you’re in the best hands with Enji – he knows how to take care of you, and he’ll spoil you with every possible treasure you could want. What’s not to be happy about?
PUNISHMENTS:
As a general rule, Enji doesn’t ‘do’ punishments. Because he views his relationship with you as his second try at finding a companion, there is no part of him that actively desires to hurt you. He loves you, in some sick, twisted way that’s much too obsessive and desperate to ever be considered healthy, but it’s still love nonetheless.
And as such, Enji does genuinely want your relationship to be as wholesome and sweet as possible; he wants you to want him, to actively choose to spend your time with him, to want to be in his presence every moment of every day. He wants everything to be as perfect as possible – the idealized life, a life where he’s the number one hero coming home to his lovely wife who cherishes him and he cherishes in return.
And so, when you do something that doesn’t quite line up with this fantasy, Enji is understandably upset. Why can’t you just accept that this is your reality now? Why do you insist on fighting him, even when you know you won’t win? How could you?
He’s Enji Todoroki, Endeavor the Flame Hero, and you’re just you. You’re pretty, of course, and smart and sweet and caring, but you’re still just you. There’s nothing you can do against someone like him – which is why Enji is able to excuse your poor behavior most of the time.
He understands; it’s difficult to accept that you’re weak and powerless, and he understands that when you lash out and act out, you’re just expressing frustration and fear at being taken care of so wholly and completely by someone so much stronger than you. It must be scary, after all – Enji can be so intimidating and he knows it, so he’ll try his absolute best to calm down anytime his anger starts to flare.
The last thing he wants to do is harm you, and he wants everything in your relationship to be as different as possible from that with Rei – and hurting you in any way would too closely resemble his previous marriage, ruining the beautiful illusion he can live under with you.
And so, most of the time Enji is able to grit his teeth and shut his eyes, letting the anger subside by telling himself about all the wonderful things about you – things that always get him feeling calmer, that make the buzzing sensation in his head and the suffocating feeling of anger dissipate. Nine times out of ten, he’s able to calm himself down this way – and if that’s not enough, normally exiting the room and getting a breath of fresh air is enough. He’ll tell himself that he absolutely cannot fall into the same habits he did with Rei – you’re different, you’re special, and he’ll calm himself down as often as he needs to in order to avoid being seen by you as the big, scary man who will hurt you if you disobey him.
Thus, getting Enji angry enough to the point where he can’t simply calm himself down is actually quite difficult – generally, this involves you hurting yourself. Most other things he can twist into seeming not so bad, rather just being you not having adjusted to life as his woman quite yet. He can write off your escape attempts as you still clinging to this ludicrous sense of independence you seem so hellbent on keeping.
Attempts to harm him can be discarded as your misplaced sense of anger at your situation, because although in your heart of hearts he’s sure you’re happy to be in your natural familial setting (as the wife of a strong, capable man of course), you’ve confused yourself by trying to reject something that’s just so right.
Of course these events don’t make him happy, but they’re able to be disregarded – but when your blood is drawn by your own accord, even Enji can’t pretend this is something else. This is you purposefully trying to injure yourself, purposefully trying to show him that you aren’t happy, that you don’t want this – an idea that makes him panic, that sends his fists clenching, that gets him pacing and his mind racing as he tries to figure out how to set you straight without harming you. And so, Enji eventually decides that after he cleans up your injury, rather than simply hitting you
and physically showing you that he won’t stand for this sort of misbehavior, he has to be more restrictive with you. He won’t be so lenient for the days following your bad behavior – you won’t be so spoiled, your rights won’t be so freely handed to you.
You must understand that Enji is charge, and that he’s being generous and loving and kind by allowing you such free reign around your shared home. Really, he doesn’t need to be so generous – and he’ll teach you that an angry Enji is much, much worse than the normal doting, lovesick Enji you’re used to.
Enji is frozen as he opens the front door. He’d come home a bit early from running some errands, the groceries in his hand dropping onto the hardwood floors below him. His jaw is dropped a bit, the sight of your bright red blood staining your forearm making a wave of sickness wash over him.
Who did this?
Who could’ve hurt you like this? There’d been no security alerts while he was gone, and there was absolutely no way that you’d left the interior of this house in the two hours he was gone. In the next breath he’s rushing forward into the kitchen, by your side before you can even blink, paying no mind to the way you gasp and stumble away from him, as if you’re afraid of him.
It makes Enji’s chest ache, but the sight of your blood is too distracting for him to focus on the uncomfortable ache. Instead, he’s thrusting your arm under the kitchen sink, the lukewarm water making you wince ever so slightly as it runs over the wound.
Enji’s brows furrow as he examines your arm; the cuts are long, zigzagging in every direction in a way that looks strange, not like any normal attack pattern he’s seen before. This doesn’t look natural, either – not like a regular scratch, not like you just slipped and fell and had unfortunate luck. No, this looks like something else entirely – like something purposeful, like their appearance marring your pretty skin isn’t accidental in the least. It’s only then that Enji sees the glinting silver fork out of the corner of his eye, sitting on the edge of the counter with a bit of red staining the ends.
Immediately his body is freezing, his grip on your arm squeezing tighter as the gears turn in his mind. You must have…
His jaw flexes as he grinds his teeth, those blue eyes of his slanting over to look at you with such intensity and anger that you physically shrink in on yourself. His grip is too firm for you to pull your arm back, Enji absolutely unwilling to let you run away from this.
Did you do this to yourself?
His voice is surprisingly even, given the look on his face, and immediately you’re shaking your head, your entirely body paralyzed with fear. You’ve never seen Enji look this scary before – or at least not towards you.
Your answer only serves to further anger him, it seems, because soon he’s literally snarling, his face twisted up into this ugly look of  rage that’s only heightened by the scar across his eye.
Don’t lie to me, I will always be able to tell when you’re untruthful with me. He pauses, taking a deep breath, his voice just the slightest bit unsteady. Did you do this to yourself?
This time you nod yes, tears prickling at your eyes and starting to spill down your cheeks, and at the sound Enji makes, they only flow faster. He looks like he’s in more pain than you are – his face is red, and a few flames lick up around his shoulders. The heat washes over you, and soon the begs are slipping off your tongue before you can help yourself.
Enji pays you no mind, every ounce of his self-control going towards not slapping you in the face for your blatant stupidity. Soon he’s letting go of your hand, stomping towards the small first aid kit he keeps in the kitchen, entirely silent as he carefully wraps your arm in bandages, not paying your rambling any attention or mind.
As soon as you’re securely bandaged, he leaves the room and you hear the sound of his bedroom door slamming shut reverberating throughout the house.
The rest of the night passes in a blur, with you somehow getting from the floor of the kitchen where you’d laid down and eventually fallen asleep all the way to your bed, with the blankets carefully slotted over your body.
Nothing seems to be amiss the next morning, your footsteps cautious as you approach the bathroom, your brows shooting up when you notice that the counter is completely bare – your toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, and mouthwash are all missing, as are all the expensive lotions and facial scrubs Enji normally keeps in piles for your convenience.
The kitchen is empty, too, you notice – the silverware drawer is completely empty, and there are no cups or mugs of any sort in any of the cupboards. It’s unnerving, and immediately you’re getting goosebumps all over your body, the air feeling prickly and cold, as if there’s something lurking that you don’t know about. Biting your lip, you make your way to the table, gingerly sitting down and trying not to jostle the bandages too much – the bandages that had been changed, you distantly notice.
A few minutes later, Enji joins you in the kitchen, his expression not exactly jovial, but not particularly hostile. He greets you as he normally does, before placing the mug you now notice is in his hand under sink. The sound of rushing water gets your mouth watering, not having realized how thirsty you were until this moment.
Wide eyes watch him turn towards you, making his way to your seated figure with slow, heavy steps that get your heart thudding in his chest. He stops right next to you, before telling you to open your mouth. Hesitantly, you do as he says, jerking slightly when his fingertips – always unnaturally warm – cup your chip and bring the cup up to your lips, the water cold as you’re forced to drink it.
Enji watches with neutral eyes, though you see the corner of his lip curl up slightly as you drink the entire glass, the pacing of the water flow nearly too much and nearly choking you. Soon it’s gone, and Enji uses his thumb to wipe at the corner of your lips.
Since yesterday’s little spectacle has shown me that you can’t be trusted with basic household supplies, let me know if you require another drink, if you’d like to brush your teeth, or if you’d like to wash your hair. You obviously can’t do it alone, so I will be joining you. Now, go lay down on the couch. I need to change your wrappings again.
You’re dumbfounded, watching him keep the mug in his grasp as he heads towards the living room. And though the threat seems too extreme, Enji means it – you only last a few hours before you reluctantly ask for another drink, your throat too dry and sore to go without it.
And that night, when you shamefully ask him for your toothbrush, you’re not particularly pleased to find out that he’ll be the one brushing your teeth, using his very own toothbrush to get the job done, just to make sure you don’t even think about trying to choke yourself with the brush.
(And when you finally have to shower, well, Enji’s face turns bright red when you ask, rushing to his feet much too quickly, grasping your hand and practically pulling you to the bathroom before applying all sorts of soaps and scents to the bath he draws for you. His breath is hitched as he turns around so you can change in privacy, but don’t be surprised to see him sneaking glances at your bare body beneath the water’s bubbly surface. Don’t be surprised when later that night you hear a suspiciously rhythmic thumping sound and muffled groans through the wall that  your bedrooms share, the faintest wet, squelching noise accompanying them.)
And, roughly a week later when you wake up to the cups and mugs back in the cupboard and your shampoo back in the shower, you’ll decide against hurting yourself anytime soon. It’s not worth it – not if that’s how you’ll be treated; forced to ask permission for your basic needs.
And Enji couldn’t be more pleased – now you’ll think twice about using that fork again, or anything else for that matter.
(And he can still force you into using his toothbrush – under the guise of furthering your bond and intimacy, of course. And because he’ll use it after you, savoring the feeling of the bristles against his tongue like some sort of drug.)
OVERALL DANGER:
 7/10
Enji isn’t necessarily dangerous, but rather inevitable.
He’s a determined man, driven by motivation for his goals, no matter the methods he uses to get there. And once he sets his sights on you, deciding that he wants you, that he loves you, you’re certainly no different – he will have you, and there’s not a single thing you can do about it. He’s a force to be reckoned with, and really, what sway do you have?
He’s a professional hero, known in the public sphere responsible for saving more lives than you could ever hope to, and who are you? You’re just a pretty face, a woman who happened to have the exact set of traits and physical appearance that Enji finds desirable – you have no real way to combat him, and who would believe you, anyway? Enji is the new symbol of peace – as far as the Commission is concerned, he can have whatever the hell he wants, and if that one thing is some civilian, then you can kiss your freedom goodbye.
But really, all things considered, Enji isn’t too terrible – he’s trying desperately to right his wrongs, to love you in a way that prioritizes your happiness and is just better, and although you’re certainly not happy being trapped by his side, he can at least pretend like this is better.
He wants you to be his pretty little thing, to be his housewife and treat him like your devoted, loving husband. He wants you to greet him with a kiss on the lips when he comes home from work, helping him out of his jacket and asking about his day, then lead him into the clean kitchen where you’ve got dinner waiting for him, then join him in the shower and then the bed, letting his hands wander to where they please, then fall asleep on his chest, letting him feel like he’s protecting you even in his sleep.
Is that really so much to ask for? Enji thinks not – besides, isn’t that the dream for you?
All you have to do is let him take care of you, to spoil you with flowers and chocolates and jewelry and all sorts of things that make women swoon. You’ll be spoiled rotten, treated like a goddess, and all you have to do is let Enji make all the decisions for you, to let him take control of your life and your future – it’s better this way, he promises.
This way, you’ll be properly cared for, kept safe and secure and comfortable by his side. You may not see it yet, but Enji is sure this is really what you want – you’ll come around eventually, he’s sure of it.
And if you don’t? Well, at least he’s not a monster, right?
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Text
POV: YOU’RE DATING CALLUM TURNER
pt. ✌🏻
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cturnerupdates Cal & Y/N spotted at a cafe in Paris today - March 23, 2024
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fan12 I SHIP IT BUT IM JEALOUS
y/nfan two lovers in the city of love 🥹 fitting ♥️
user23 I’m calling it now these two are gonna be it for each other. They’re end game.
yourinstagram that’s the goal🥹
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keoghan92 Context: Cal taking his bird away because we were apparently “pissed ” 🙄
Photo credit - me 🫡
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anthonyboyle baftas are always a fun night eh?
yourinstagram he saved your ass, i had you!!!
keoghan92 love I’ll out drink you any day
yourinstagram tbh we weren’t even that drunk
rafflaw you were crying cus you “lost” your boyfriend but he was holding your hand the entire time and barry thought the stalls were narnia entry
keoghan92 that’s a solid night mate
fan23 damn y/n looks good
yourinstagram tits out & every thang 🤗
keoghan92 Oi her heads big enough
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yourinstagram trying to enjoy my lunch but this weird (cute) guy won’t stop bothering me (i love him)
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user12 i need to know what its like to be her
fan23 callum is so down bad for her #relatable
fan21 what did she cover up 👀
yourinstagram lol just cal being cheeky
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yourinstagram hi handsome ♥️
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fan23 THE WAY HE’S LOOKING AT HER 🙌🏼😭😭
user68 i wonder if he’s aware how many photos she takes of him and she posts them all its weird
yourfriendsig lmao trust he’s aware & he’s obsessed when it comes to y/n
fan21 ppl see shit on the internet & think they know everything ugh 😑
yourinstagram guys let’s all be nice and enjoy looking at my beautiful boyfriend! 😍
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jimmyfallonshow Tune in tonight 10/11 CT to witness Callum Turner swoon over ‘amazing’ girlfriend 💕 ….
When asked if he’s aware how iconic she’s become on social media he said he’s well aware and he isn’t at all surprised before divulging to Jimmy “she’s the one.” 💍 👀
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user23 After watching the interview I’m 100% convinced he’s the golden retriever and she’s the black cat. Y/N loves him but gosh … the way he was talking about her and looking at her?
fan13 IMA CRY ITS NOT LETTING ME WATCH SOMEONE SHARE
y/nupdates It starts with Callum sharing a joke and Jimmy didn’t laugh but Y/N did from the crowd 😂 Callum recognized her laugh and said “thanks baby” and then that’s when Jimmy asked about her IG fame. Callum said “she’s the one man - we aren’t worried about that.” When Jimmy asked how they deal with the attention.
user12 starting to wonder if they’re secretly married/engaged
fan31 Nah and I think it’s beautiful even though they’re aware they are it for each other she’s willing to wait and support him as he enters a new kind of fame
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yourinstagram Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. Daddy - 🥵
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callumfan Y/N PLSSSSSS I CANNNOOOTTT
user41 girllll yes !!!!
fan53 can i please be you???
user91 ur man is so daddy he’s fire
user33 Y/N and Callum daddy kink confirmed
keoghan92 That’s what we called him on set
yourinstagram back off my man barry
rafflaw … we really did though
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drewbarrymoreshow Hilarious, gorgeous, and kind — yes these guys, but I was referring to the star of tonight’s show Callum Turner’s girlfriend. Her Instagram page is one of my favorite’s, tune in to watch me fan girl over three stars tonight.
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yourinstagram unreal !! i adore you !!❤️❤️
drewbarrymoreshow Text me for our date night 🤗
fan23 everyone loves y/n it’s beautiful to see someone being praised when they’re authentically themselves
user12 shoulda interviewed her too
drewbarrymooreshow 🌚
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yourinstagram Y/N by me (Cal) 💍♥️😍
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fan31 HIS EMOJI USE?!?? rip me
user12 im gonna cry she’s so smol he’s so tol
fan23 Cal make your own page!!! We know it’ll just be Y/N and we’re okay with it!!! It’s what we want tbh !!!
keoghan92 “why the fuck are you taking a photo” is what she was mid saying
user25 omg he probably crushes her she’s tiny it’s great
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yourinstagram 🥹
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fan23 ugh the height difference kills me
user12 they’re so in love it makes me happy
fan33 I believe in love because of them tbh
fan67 idk how he hasn’t popped the question yet
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cturnerupdates Callum spotted with Y/N and his mother in London back in Feb for his birthday. The group had a picnic at the park and Callum’s mother even braided her hair — Feb 19, 2024
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user13 ohhhh he’s gonna be a girl dad fs
fan54 she’s got the momma’s stamp approval it’s gonna happen
user23 what i wouldn’t give to be his gf and have a picnic w him at the park and have his mom braid my hair
fan56 Is anyone gonna talk about how he’s looking at her? 🥹🥹😍 Definition of heart eyes
————
I’m so down bad for this man so I really couldn’t resist making another one. He’s handsome and charming and manly and ughhhhh kill me!
P.S slight FC use of Olivia Dejonge. Not only is she gorgeous but she’s so smol and I find it so beautiful, especially with how large he is. Needed that picture for a specific use to help identify the size difference between the two but feel free to keep imagining whoever. He’s dated Vanessa Kirby and Dua Lipa so the hair color constantly changes in pics 😭
Don’t have a tag list but thanks to everyone for all the love, hope ya’ll enjoy this one as well 💕
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landoslvr · 2 months
Text
MRS TELEVISION | a. frederick
summary: a scroll through your internet presence as 'mrs television'. [social media AU.]
pairing: fem!reader x arthur frederick (arthurtv)
faceclaim: bri kerr
notes: first piece for mrs television out of the wag universe. bri is gonna be the main fc I use for mrs television, hopefully you like it!
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liked by arthurtv, arthurfhill and 1,129 others
yourinstagram helped out on someone else's video for once, chris finally let me leave the dungeon!!!
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user she kills me
user hottest producer award goes to...
chrismd_10 drinking on the job?
yourinstagram constantly
user she looks peppered in the 3rd slide
user first risky pic from y/n ever on the 6th slide
georgeclarkey thanks for the candid of me and my man 😌😌
arthurtv please someone get him away from me
user y/n's friend is inhaling that guinness 🫢
arthurtv great photography for the 1st and 3rd pictures, big fan!
yourinstagram humble as ever mr television
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yourinstagram lots of fun at work recently, constantly mixing business and pleasure 🥂 chrismd thanks for keeping me employed even if I drink at work
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user I can't tell if shes joking about drinking at work 😭
user its definitely a joke, most bts has y/n yelling at chris to pull his head in lol
user she keeps him in line!
yourinstagram have been going on 15 years
user we thank you for your service 🫡
arthurtv no jerseys at the match???
yourinstagram the nerve!
chrismd_10 who's that handsome fella in the last slide?
miniminter leave the md clutches and come to sidemen
yourinstagram throw in talia and you have a deal
georgeclarkey you drunk
yourinstagram seems to be the new normal now, just embracing my new brand (like you and your Invisalign ads)
georgeclarkey too far
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yourinstagram more of a traveller atm than a producer! enjoyed spain very very much, definitely swipe to the 8th slide to see what arthur classifies as a front flip
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arthurtv it's called being flexible, you wouldn't know anything about it
yourinstagram your six-year-old sister does a better front flip than you
arthurtv leave flora out of this
user guys stop flirting in front of us 😭😭 the false hope hurts
georgeclarkey always appreciate meeting a fan
yourinstagram die
calfreezy that photo was sacred y/n
chrismd_10 I feel ashamed, embarrassed
willne the absolute cheek
user why is no one talking about how good y/n looks in these pictures??
faithlouisak Im thinking the same thing?
user literal island princess
user is that danny aarons in the 5th picture 😭😭
yourinstagram dont even ask how he got the invite
chrismd_10 we're still not sure tbh
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yourinstagram filmed a very *cool* video this week 🌨️
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arthurtv again, who is your photographer???? such raw talent is exquisite
yourinstagram im very close to letting him go actually, you can have him!
user arthur being the first to comment on her posts fuels my mrs television heart really, give us something guys
user I love them at my core I can't lie
user she is just so pretty
chrismd_10 get back to work
yourinstagram I literally just want to breathe chris
user someone make chris let y/n go, she needs to be a free woman
bezhinga faiths phone is dead but she says 'u look leng'
yourinstagram I love you faith kelly x
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yourinstagram very good friends! (happy one year doofus)
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user A WHOLE ASS YEAR???????
user who even are they????????
user I feel like I have been swindled here miss l/n
user can we finally call her mrs television??? shes more than chris' producer now, she's one of us
arthurtv best friends for life! (I love you very much)
user I can't tell if im going to cry or faint tbh
user why is he always playing chess, arthur PLEASE
yourinstagram I'm asking this question all the time?
chrismd_10 I take credit for this relationship btw
yourinstagram how so?
chrismd_10 if I hadn't sat with arthur in class and then dragged you into our group project, I like to think this wouldn't have happened
georgeclarkey I love all of the fans so much but please stop sending me these pictures of my fiancé wrapped around another woman
user GEORGE PLEASE
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redclercs · 10 months
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DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.
xi.it’s okay we’re the best of friends
— the one where all you do is think about the feelings that you hide.
warnings: guys, my brain was failing during this so not really proofread, also please pretend the dress is the same in both pics lol, alcohol consumption. 2.5k words.
currently playing: drive by halsey!
masterlist ✢ next
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softyn FIRST POST SINCE MAY AND MOTHER WANTS US DEAD
ynstars I LOVE YOU SO MUCH SLAY
aid4anfeels ugly bitch
lecsainz516 whose wedding is this, charles and carlos were there too
formulayn did @/charles_leclerc take these?
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THE COMMENTS FOR THIS POST ARE LIMITED.
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August 5th, Madrid, Spain.
WHEN Charles said you needed to make new memories in Spain to replace the bad ones, you didn’t have a wedding in mind. However, with the rollercoaster that is your life as of lately, you don’t swim against the current anymore. Just going with it is not a bad way to live when you’re still trying to reach the surface and get away from the wreckage.
Things aren’t good. Not yet. The press is still having a field day with all that he said, she said merry go round. Aidan and Victoria are fighting to play the victim and Mia Kim is on a mission to paint you as the worst sister-in-law who could have ever existed. Which, to be fair, paints her in a weird Freudian light.
But things are better than they were the last time you were in Spain. And that’s something to be grateful for.
“Are you sure?” You asked Charles on FaceTime for the third time that night two weeks ago, he had just asked you to be his plus one to one of his Ferrari mates’ wedding. “Are you a hundred percent sure they won’t mind?”
The last thing you wanted was to feel like an intruder, and with the type of attention you carry around like a dark cloud over your head, ruining someone’s special day was not an experience you wanted to add to your repertoire.
“Of course they won’t mind, soleil.” Charles assured, he was still in Hungary after the Grand Prix. “Tommaso told me I could bring anyone, and I want to bring you.”
The last time you saw Charles in person was in New York City, almost two months ago. It doesn't mean, of course, that you stopped communicating. Whenever Charles is on his phone, you can be certain you'll receive a text, a picture or a random iMessage drawing. You handle time zones as best you can without sacrificing too much sleep time, especially for the one who has to drive a car at 300 km/hr.
Although he insisted on you coming to any Grand Prix of your choice, you thought it best to stay away from the paddock for a while. Plus, you had some work to do. You didn't love Talk Shows while promoting, most hosts did horrible, unfunny jokes, and you were the butt of a lot of them, but if being in some of them helped you to speak about your situation and dismiss whatever rumor Victoria, Aidan or Mia (or just about half the internet) had going on, you were willing to make the sacrifice.
You were also willing to attend a complete stranger's wedding just to see Charles again, but you didn't want to give that thought the depth it demanded from you. Not in the seven hour flight from New York to Madrid, and not now, as you're getting ready for Charles to pick you up to go to the wedding.
Your blue dress is frankly magnificent, and you are aware of how good you look, but it doesn't hurt that the first thing Charles does when the doors to the lift open, is compliment you. Well, to be fair, the first thing he does is gather his thoughts and try not to feel stupid after basically picking his jaw up from the floor.
"You look gorgeous," Charles says, clearing his throat. His sudden anxiety makes you chuckle, as his Adam's apple bobs up his neck. "I missed you so much, soleil."
You are mildly disappointed when he doesn't hug you the way he did back in New York, and you dismiss the feeling almost as quickly as it appeared. Although his words linger in the air, he missed you, and you did too.
"I don't want to ruin your hair," he explains, as if he's read your mind, and smiles wider.
"Right," you shake your head, it was obvious. "You look pretty good yourself, Charlie," you add, always trying to return the compliment, and only managing to make it awkward.
There is something about men in suits that makes them twice as attractive, and it's unfair when it comes to someone like Charles, who is already way too handsome as it is.
"Thank you," Charles is always nice enough to accept your half-assed, anxiety induced compliments. "Shall we?"
You nod, and when he offers his arm to lead you to the car, you link yours through it taking a breath so deep, it makes your lungs ache.
"Do you like weddings?" Charles asks as the engine of his car roars to life. A red Ferrari is the only way you manage to describe it, afraid of getting details wrong. Although you're certain Charles would patiently explain anything you needed to know about it, you don't ask.
"Everyone likes weddings," you reply, setting both hands on top of your knees. "Right?"
Charles chuckles and shrugs, "I guess so,"
You love weddings, except when you're expected to be the bride.
"Charles," you pat his shoulder and he takes his eyes off the road for the briefest second. "Are you completely sure the bride doesn't mind my presence?"
You don't want to give yourself some sort of importance you don't deserve—the bride has more important things to worry about—but particularly nervous about how your presence will be received at the celebration.
"Seriously, y/n," Charles soothes, his right hand leaves the steering wheel and searches for your own blindly, accidentally landing on your empty lap. He takes his hand back immediately, red creeping up his neck. "It's fine." he resolves, his sight way too focused on the road now.
"Alright," you whisper, smoothing the skirt of your dress. "Alright."
Both of you remain silent the rest of the way as you take in the Spanish landscape and Charles drives like his life depends on it. You promised yourself you'd ask for as much information on the happy couple as you could, but your voice is lost in the pit that opened in your stomach.
And the evening is just beginning.
It's after the ceremony, at cocktail hour that you find everything out about Tommaso and Bárbara thanks to none other than Carlos Sainz, who seems to really have a thing for gossip and also, for making fun of you for crying during the vows.
"Leave me alone, Carlos," you warn for the last time, this time threatening him with your closed fist. "Not my fault you don't have a heart in that big-ass chest."
This makes him laugh harder, and even Charles chuckles against the lip of his whiskey glass.
"I miss you so much around the paddock, y/n!" Carlos sighs, patting the place above his heart. "For real."
You click your tongue. "Sure you do,"
Carlos and you talk a lot less than Charles and you do, of course. But if Charles calls you during whatever free time he has while in the Ferrari Suite, you can trust Carlos to insert himself in the conversation.
"And a lot of the other drivers do too," Carlos' tone is mocking again, and you glower at him.
"Stop picking on me," this time you punch him on the shoulder.
"I'm being serious. Lando has a crush on you,"
You talked to Lando a few times, mostly when he and Carlos were being boys and hitting each other in the balls outside the Ferrari Suite and Lando made small talk as he tried not to touch his private parts. A crush is an exaggeration, Lando just told you he thought you were cool for making movies.
"Why don't we take some pictures?" Charles suggests before downing the rest of his whiskey. You don't miss the look he gives Carlos.
"Why not?" you smile at Charles, shrugging. The place is beautiful and you would love to have a memory of this whole thing that you can go back to.
"I'll catch up with you guys," Carlos calls as you two walk away, uninterested in the impromptu photoshoot.
Charles directs an annoyed look at him again and then makes it go away to return his attention to you.
"What was that?" you ask, taking Charles' arm again for him to lead you to where the rest of the guests are more scattered and won't photobomb your pictures.
"What was what?" Charles lifts an eyebrow, forever the expert at playing dumb. Or, not really.
You shake your head, this is another deep thought you don't want to venture into. There is enough of this weird tension already, and you're not sure if Charles feels it too.
─────────
"Your girlfriend is beautiful," a lady is patting your hand, a gentle smile on her face as she looks at Charles. She's the spouse of another Ferrari team member, and the first thing she did was compliment your dress before even asking for your name.
"Oh, I'm not—"
"We're just friends," Charles clears up, gentle as well. "But y/n really is beautiful."
The woman raises both eyebrows and laughs, an 'oh you kids' snicker that isn't unkind. "Of course, of course."
It's the first time of many during this party that Charles has to say you're not in a relationship, and it seems to get easier every time the words come out of his mouth.
Although it's true, you're not sure why it nags at you.
You cry again during the couple's First Dance and verbally threaten Carlos to leave you alone as you wipe your tears carefully, doing your best to keep your makeup intact. He laughs, but takes your threat seriously and remains quiet. This whole Tom and Jerry thing is amusing but he doesn't want to actually make you angry.
A few songs in, after you're done bickering with Carlos and you have finished your third glass of champagne, Charles asks you to dance with him.
An slowed-down version of Sixpence's 'Kiss Me' plays as you take the dance floor. You blame your giddiness on the fact that you finished that flute of champagne in record time.
"What is it?" Charles questions, smoothly placing one hand on your hip while the other holds your palm. His thumb runs up and down the curve of your wrist.
"What if I step on your foot?" you retort, looking up at him. That's only one thing that makes you nervous, although you know how to dance. You took lessons for both Supercut and Parisian Valentine.
Laughter bubbles from Charles' chest and you join in, although this makes you even more nervous. It would be stupid to say you don't see how handsome he is, even if he's just your friend.
"I won't mind," Charles promises, and his fingers press a little harder against your hip bone.
"Okay, then."
It's obviously not a complicated endeavor to sway around the dance floor with Charles, he lets you set the pace, lacing your fingers together after you spin back to him.
"Thank you for coming with me, soleil," he says in a low voice. You can smell the alcohol in his breath although it's been a while since he stopped drinking, he still has to drive you back to your hotel. "I really missed you these two months."
"I love weddings. Thanks for inviting me," you squeeze his shoulder, the contrast of your manicured nails against his shirt distracts you momentarily from the fact that you can feel his breath against your jaw.
It's the second time today that you miss the chance to tell him you missed him too, and you know he notices it by the way he leans away.
The song ends before your tongue decides to respond to you again and Charles lets go of you. A few seconds feel like an hour as you stare at each other, unable—or unwilling—to say anything of what either of you really want to say.
"Care to dance?" a guy with longish hair and dark eyes is offering you his hand now, as a faster song starts and the lights around the room turn brighter.
You break eye contact with Charles and when you look at him again, he just nods, taking a step back to your assigned table.
"Sure," you tell the guy, a tense smile on your face. "Let's dance."
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The ride back to your hotel is silent again, and you're too tired to find a way to fill it.
Charles' energy has shifted and this makes your stomach turn. Your anxiety worsens every time you feel someone is 'off' towards you, and that someone being Charles makes it a hundred times worse.
He takes the elevator to your room with you, placing his hand gently in the middle of your bare back to let you in first.
"We're okay, right?" you whisper, looking at your distorted reflections on the silver wall of the cubicle.
You see Charles' reflection frown and then his face turns to you. "Of course we're okay, y/n. Is something wrong?"
You shake your head, the loose strands of your bun tickle your nape. "I'm just wondering."
Charles is never bothered by your need for reassurance, not even when he needs reassurance himself. That he's not being a complete and absolute moron by wanting the woman all the boys want to dance with, and holding onto that little slither of hope that he might have a chance with her. He's the one standing next to you after the party, still.
"We are okay. Didn't you have fun today?" he asks, pushing those thoughts aside. You're friends. Just friends.
"Of course I did!" you inhale sharply, "I just— nevermind." you take your hand to the back of your head, already tired of the half undone bun that threatens to give you a headache.
"I had fun. I always have fun when I'm with you," Charles follows you out of the elevator and down the hallway to the third door marked with a 3321.
You're still struggling to find the exact hairpin that holds your hairdo together, and Charles pinpoints it almost at the same time as you do, pulling it out swiftly to make your hair fall down your shoulders.
It's a meaningless gesture, Charles hasn't given it a second thought or stopped walking. But a shiver runs down your back as his knuckles graze your nape.
"Thanks, Charlie." You say, swallowing.
"Of course," Charles puts the pin inside the pocket of his trousers with a shrug.
You stand in front of the room for a minute, having a stare down again as you rub the back of your head.
"Thank you again for today, Charles." you're the one to break the silence, keycard already between your fingers. "I had a great time."
"I'm glad, soleil." Charles his dimples appear when he smiles and your breath hitches when he leans towards you. It feels like you've been showered with ice cold water. "Good night, y/n," he says and presses his lips against your cheek.
"Good night, Charlie," you wave him goodbye from the door as he walks back to the lift.
The feeling of his lips against your skin is there, even after you've washed your face and tucked yourself into bed.
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─── team principal radio: ❝thank you for reading! surprisingly, i don't have much to say this time other than i really hope you enjoyed this chapter, and that I appreciate each one of you dearly!♡❞
✰ paddock club members: @sassyheroneckgiant @flowerchild-96 @fangirlika @shegotboreddsoo @roseamongthorns13 @cissyp @chimchimjiminie16 @saturnsrinqs @roni-midnights @gayyvodka6 @studioreader @its-ash-not-grey @lu-morningstar @ferraribabe @reidsworld @feelslikestrawberries @celestialams @kosmosgalore @heeseung-baby @missenclod @buendiabebeta @mycenterfold @aces-tattooartist @burningrred @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @rainybabe25 @ru-kru @lazybot @teenagedreams-cl @cool-ultra-nerd @kuskumu @formulakay3 @bisexual-desi @somanyfandomsbruh @icarus-nex @haziefairy @xjval @xoxoloverb @sainzleclercs @headinthecloudssblog @incoherenciass @bookophiliac @torrie421 @nooshytushie @azxulaa @steephanie07 @anonymous8462 @tbisloneely @pukklv @bn7921 @be-your-coffee-pot @fdl305 @lovely-blackinnon @landonorizzz @ruleroftheuniverse @ivegotparticulartaste
want to join the paddock club? click here!
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igotanidea · 11 months
Text
No strings attached (1) : Jason Todd x plus-size!reader
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Summary: Madison was Jason's stalker and he was tired. When Y/N moved into the neighbourhood he saw that as an opportunity to get rid of the baggage. Accidental meeting led to something more than friend, never a relationship though. He was not into tail, surely not, right? So why sudden change of behaviour when she pushed him away? And why would she push him away in the first place?!
Warnings: not in this chapter, but definitely smut and angst in the next ones. I'll post individual warnings in each chapter
***
„Why the fuck can’t you just leave me alone?” Jason sighed deeply leaning onto the doorframe of the apartment next to his. Honestly he had no idea what was happening to him lately. Maybe it was the effect of getting back to Gotham, but he became more depressed than before. Guess being back from the death and realizing your family replaced you does such things to people. Of course, there was his hole Red Hood persona, but Jason? Jason Todd was insecure, sensitive and in desperate need of someone to love. And someone who would love him back. However, all those traits were skillfully covered by sarcasm, edgelord attitude and harsh behavior. So why wasn’t he able to just tell this girl to fuck off and leave him alone? Why couldn’t he say something mean, which will left her offended and disappear from his life.
He just couldn’t and it was really getting on his nerves.
“But Jason….” the girl whined “why can’t you see it?”
“See what exactly?” he raised an eyebrow
“We are just perfect for each other!” she squealed and almost jumped into his arms in an attempt to hug him “Come on, just give this a chance!”
“Please, go away, Madison.”
“You remembered my name!”
“Of course I remembered your name. How could I not?” he rubbed his forehead “you left like a hundred notes with your name and number in my mailbox. And sticky notes on my bike. And you tormented my ….’ He hesitated, the word brother, not getting thought his mouth “nevermind. I told you, I am not interested.”
“You just don’t know what you’re missing, Jaybird….”
“Stop calling me that! I hate it! Who …. Who the fuck taught you this nickname!?” now she actually managed to anger him. Maybe it was good, maybe for the first time in a while he would be able to take some direct action and get rid of that stalker of a girl.  
“I got my ways.” She smiled mischievously “nothing ever gets lost in the Internet and I got just the right tools to dig deep.”
“Listen up, Madison….”
“Oh, I am listening. Extremely carefully.” She took a step towards him and he immediately flinched. Cornered by a girl, fucking great. Grayson would never let him live this down. “Come on, Jason, let me in….” she cooed, her hand tracing up his arms towards his shoulder “you remember how much fun we had last time….”
“It was one time! One fucking time and it was a mistake!”
“The kind you want to keep repeating?”
“What the fu…..” he started, but another female voice joined the conversation successfully cutting him off. A very annoyed female voice.
“I’m sorry, but could you two take this conversation, elsewhere? You are kind of blocking the door to my apartment and I would love to take this off.” She pointed towards the heavy backpack she was wearing.
Oh, right. There have been a lot of talk in the building about a possible new tenant. Guess she was the one. And the timing was just perfect for Jason, who immediately jumped into the occasion.
“Baby!” he almost screamed and both girls looked at him with wide eyes. Madison in surprise, bordering shock, the other one with “what-the-fuck” expression, probably wondering if he was mental. So much of a good first impression “you are finally here!” he continued, hugging the girl lightly to not startle her.
“What the …..?” she hissed into his ear, but before she could finish the sentence he squeezed her tighter, almost getting a kick in the groin.
“Come on, just play along with me for a minute.” Jason whispered, so that only she could here “I need to get rid of her, I’ll buy you a wine or whatever, just help the neighbor out.”
“You’ll owe me much more than just a wine if you keep your hands where they are now.”
Oh, shit. Only now, he realized that his right palm was definitely way to low on her back. But damn, the girl got curves in all the right places and he was just a man.
“Sorry.” He mumbled and pulled away, acting like they knew each other for eternity “Why didn’t you call me, princess? I told you to do it the second you get in town! I can’t believe you carried all this weight by yourself!”
“I just wanted to surprise you…, em…, honey.”
“You most definitely did.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Hold right there.” Madison came in between them and pushed the other girl away slightly “who the fuck are you?”
“She’s my girlfriend.” Jason blurted, hoping his new neighbor would really play along.
“GIRLFRIEND!?”
“Yeah, um, hi, I’m Y/N. Nice to…..”
“Did you know you’re boyfriend is cheating on you, sunshine? No wonder, though.” She gave Y/N a look over  “You should really lose some weight, sunshine. Will do you good. ”
“I’m sorry, what….?”
“Hey! You have no right to talk to her like that!”
“Sure not. but for some reason you choose me over her multiple times….”
“ONCE!”
“Whatever, Jaybrid. If you ever get bored with her, again, you know where to find me. I’m not giving up on you, baby” Madison raised onto her tiptoes and kissed his cheek briefly. Jason almost didn’t stop himself from wiping it off his face. “as for you, girlfriend” she almost hissed the last word “I don’t; think this is going to last long. Too bad for you.” her vicious laugh filled the whole staircase “love you Jaybird, call me!”
And leaving just a thread of perfume she was  gone. Not that she left furious Jason and absolutely confused Y/N behind.
“I’m sorry about ….” Jason turned around, ready to do some explanation, but much to his disappointment, the only sound he heard was clicking on the key in a keyhole. From inside.  “Hey, come on, Y/n! Open up!”
“Go away, you freak!”
“Let me at least apologize face to face, not through the door!” a moment of silence on her part gave him unreasonable hope.
“Apology accepted, now move out of my door or I’ll come at you!” if only she knew who she was threatening….
“I promised you a wine for helping me, remember?”
“I don’t care! If you don’t leave in ten seconds I’m gonna call the police!”
“Hate to break it to you, princess, but it’s Gotham. I’m the best chances at protection you have. Or you can always call upon Batman, but I don’t see that being successful.” Jason scoffed, starting to walk back and forth.
“Oh, yeah, right. That really sounds exciting. Meeting the big, bad bat in person.” Her voice reverberated somehow clearer and closer than before and when he raised his gaze realized she actually opened the door and was now standing right in front of him.
Shit, she was pretty with her h/c hair, flowing around her face, a bit fuzzy because of shitty Gotham weather, shiny e/c eyes and pouty lips. She might have been a bit on the heavier side, but it only added to her charm and fire that she showed before by putting on the little display.
She was beautiful and even tiredness of the journey couldn’t hide that.
“Hi.” Jason whispered, a little taken aback and filled with guilt of dragging her into his mess.
“What the fuck was that?” she sighed deeply “Look, Jason, I am exhausted. I had a long journey and as much as I would love to take you up on that wine offer I had no power in me to do that. So how about we just forget about this whole mess and say farewell to each other, hm? I have no interest in interfering in your personal life, especially with the girl who called me fat the second she laid eyes on me.”
“Don’t you want to know your handsome neighbor better?” he smirked and realized that even though it just slipped through, there was a chance that his old self was getting back to life. Was it because of her?
“Nah, not really. I think I’ve seen enough. And like I said, being back in Gotham sucks, but what can a girl do, right? Life sucks as well sometimes.” She shrugged and started closing the door
“Wait!” he put a feet in, before she managed to actually do it.
“What now?”
“Are you from around here?”
“Born Gothamite. Glad you can’t tell it just by looking at me. Now, I really want to go to sleep, if you don’t mind…..” she yawned and rubbed her eyes in the cutest child-like manner, making him feel to many things. Too many dangerous things.....
‘Right, sorry. I’ll leave you to it. Good night, Y/N.”
“Yeah, night, crazy boy.”
She already had a nickname for him.
He definitely wasn’t going to let this acquaintance end up at this….
next part ->->->
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pap3rcherry · 11 days
Note
OH IT'S OKAY!!! I DIND'T KNEW THAT
So i hope you don't mind, i can request that same concept with Engel or Abby?(idk if i wrote their names right)
Like imagine having a obssesion with the (not so)perfect student: They make part of the student council, haves a honor roll(or is in idk how to say), haves straight A, teacher's favorite and these things
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✮⋆˙ LOVE ME MORE ୨୧
YANDERE ENGEL X "PERFECT STUDENT" READER
A/N:I know i said i wouldnt write for minor yanderes, but im trying to get more flexible and going out of my comfort zone, ill give a shot for this one, although, if this IS problematic please warn me so i can take this post down.
Tw: Yandere topics, obsession, he tries to manipulate and gaslight you, i refuse to make reader have a happy ending.
type: Light angst/fluff, romantic, headcanons
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୨୧ I think it would be a bit understandable how Engel would get hooked up on you so fast, i mean, he is a very smart student himself, so i think he would have a heavy infatuation for you because of your inteligence and maturity.
୨୧ Engel would get close to you by talking about your favorite subjects and being extra informed about it, for example: your favorite subject is marine biology? bam, this boy is going to tell you all the fun facts he learned about whales on the internet so he could impress you.
୨୧ After Engel gets more intimate with you, he would try to keep his cool around you at the beginning, but there would be discreet signals, he would let his possessive side slip a bit sometimes because of how much you get praised for your effort on studies.
୨୧ Ah yes, the praising... the praising is what makes Engel get so possessive and jealous, because in his eyes he should be the only one to provide such compliments and take that sweet and gentle smile and laughs out of you, not others.
୨୧ But overall he would be very chill in the first few 2-3 months, but past the 3rd month is where it gets... very weird, Engel would get way more possessive and would show it more.
୨୧ Engel would start to dismiss both of you whenever someone compliments you, going from calm and collected to "uh huh, they really appreciate it but we need to go now, bye" and pushing you away meanwhile being oddly clinged to your arm.
୨୧ And because of you being really smart, you would notice it really fast and maybe pick up on his crush for you, and you would have to choose between confronting him or just leaving it aside.
୨୧ If you do choose to confront him about it, he would try to dismiss it and paint you crazy and gaslighting you, but it wouldnt really work on you since you are very smart, and that personally bothers him sometimes.
୨୧ Now if you try to toss it aside, it would get worse and worse until he doesnt even let you stop to help or get complimented by someone, just pushing you past them like they werent talking at all, and it probably would get to the point where you have to do the first scenario: confronting him.
୨୧ If you try to leave him in any way, he would show himself more smarter than you think, contorning any plan you have of leaving him, like if you try to ignore him, he would make you fall into situations you are forced to talk to him, like having to do a group work and etc.
୨୧ He may like how you are smart, but he can be more smart than you, dont try him, hes just trying to do whats best for you <3
୨୧ "You never ever getting rid of me ♡"
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teecupangel · 9 days
Text
Based on @auroramoon-draws16’s idea in this post.
Desmond lost Altaïr.
He really can’t explain it.
He thought Altaïr would be fine. He seemed to have a grasp on the situation and looked like he was taking everything in better than Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton.
“The Apple has shown me visions of this future. I’ll be fine, Desmond. Just give me a phone with this internet thing in it.”
Oh god.
Desmond should have not trusted his words.
He should have anticipated something like this.
That Altaïr would get lost in the crowd of this…
Anime convention?
Oh fuck.
Desmond needed to find Altaïr before he gets suckered into Vtubers or one of those toxic fandoms (he seriously didn’t want to see Altaïr having an oshi or going to Twitter to fight some rando because they had differing headcanons) or worse…
Hentai.
Desmond did not exactly have any memories of Altaïr’s love life (thank god for that small mercies) but he knew that Altaïr was a curious little shit and would definitely research hentai and kinks and-
Desmond needed to find Altaïr for both his sanity and the purity of the Brotherhood’s image of the great Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad.
“And the winner of this year’s Cosplay Competition is… Altair from Abstergo’s video game franchise: History’s Hit Men: Murder in the Levant!”
Desmond froze.
Please.
Please, for the love of god, let this be a coincidence. Pleasepleasepleaseplease
“It’s Altaïr.”
Fuck.
Desmond tried to get to the stage as the MC laughed before asking, “Okay, Altaïr, how about a few words to share to everyone? Why did you choose to cosplay this character and did you learn to parkour because of him or did you cosplay him because you do parkour?”
“I was trained by-”
“-by our awesome parkour trainer!” Desmond shouted as he jumped onto the stage, placing himself between Altaïr and the MC. He gave the MC a charming smile that caused the MC’s cheeks to reddened and a few of the people in front of the stage to cheer.
“Oooohhh a modern take of the Assassins?” The MC flawlessly asked as Desmond kept a tight grip on Altaïr’s shoulder to stop the man from running away.
“Yup! We’re sorta a duo.” Desmond said, trying to bullshit his way out of this while Altaïr remained quiet.
Desmond wanted to believe it was because he knew he fucked up.
But no.
Most probably, he was quiet because he wanted to see how Desmond would get them out of this.
Asshole.
“He’s cosplaying Altaïr as the game showed and I’m cosplaying Altaïr if he was an Assassin of our time.” Desmond said.
“Oooohhh, that sounds nice.”
“He would totally wear leather pants!” Someone in the audience shouted.
No. He definitely would not. That shit was too tight. It would be hard to freerun… parkour… wearing them.
“On behalf of my partner, we are grateful that he won and we’d like to go now because, I’m gonna be honest with you, we haven’t eaten yet.”
That got a few chuckles from the crowd.
“Alright, give it up for Altair and uuhhh… Modern Day Altair!”
The audience clapped while Desmond walked Altaïr off the stage by pushing him.
“Dad’s going to kill me.” Desmond hissed.
“I will talk to him.”
Desmond rolled his eyes as he said, “That won’t do anything. He’ll just kill me after talking to you.”
“I’ll make sure he won’t.” Altaïr promised.
The saddest part of this entire thing is that Desmond actually believed Altaïr could do it.
“By the way, Desmond. Can I borrow a bit of money. I would like to buy fanmerchs of my oshi.”
“I left you alone for an hour, Altaïr!”
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azrielgreen · 4 months
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I feel like no matter how hard I try I can’t get over jealousy and insecurity and constantly comparing myself to other writers in the fandom. It’s either I don’t write enough, or I don’t write fast enough, I don’t write interesting or unique enough. If I get kudos, someone gets more, if I get comments, someone gets more thoughtful comments. It’s like a dark spiral in my brain. Do you have any tips on pushing through despite all the inner turmoil and noise? I’d be very grateful for your help!! 🖤
Hello, love, I'm sorry for the delay in answering. I wanted to give your Ask the proper attention in answering it.
Comparison is the death of joy.
I think jealousy and comparison in fandom is rife and no matter how much positivity and success someone projects, they too have had their dark moments comparing hit counters and kudos. In a fandom of THIS size it's deeply unhealthy, I personally believe, for us all to be so interconnected and visible.
I also believe that writers should write for themselves and the joy of creating something and crafting it, never expressly FOR the outcome of comments/attention but of course, that's becoming the norm now. People write to be popular. I see so many people at this point in the fandom not getting anywhere near the same amount of interactions they were a year ago, so comparisons and jealousy unfortunately become widespread, and equally, cliques begin to form to police the remaining attention as it slowly simmers down.
My tips for pushing through this would be first and foremost, write for yourself. Keep your true passion alive by writing what you fucking LOVE! Writing for other people will only ever go so far because attention wanders, interest fades and hyperfixations dissolve. If you write for yourself first, and share second, then you'll always be true to your inner creator and you'll always have ideas, passions and authentic stories coming alive inside you.
Secondly, and I know how hard this is for people, but stop comparing as much as you can. There will always be someone who has more than you and there are people who have less than you. Writing is art, art is to make people feel things they would not otherwise feel. To provoke humanity and lead us towards self exploration. To give comfort, empathy, guidance, joy, cathartic heartbreak and much more! I think so much of the true meaning of writing has been lost by the imposing domination of social media in fandom. I always recommend people trying to find that spark again, that little flash of magic that reminds you why you started.
And thirdly, this is hardest to hear, I know, but when you feel like this, it's usually a good indication to take a break. When you feel anxious, unhappy or low, you're going the wrong way. Move away from what is causing this, especially if it's anything on the internet - a dangerous and often toxic microcosm with an echo chamber effect.
Writing in real life is a beautiful thing, too.
Write something just for you, don't tell anyone, then orphan it, never read the comments, and move on. Rekindle your passion however you can, romanticise your methods, find new sources of inspiration and above all, please, have fun! and if you're not having fun in fandom - a place intended for fun and fuck all else - then please, take a break, love. Nothing is more important than your mental health.
P.S - also take into a account how MASSIVELY skewed A03 stats are due to longevity/legacy fics. There is ✨NO WAY ON EARTH✨ if I posted YD today it would make it into the top 1000 fics out of 24k and that would be wonderful still, that has always been my experience in the past. No comparison is ever justified or solid and it is truly the death of joy. Write for you, for your friends, and the people who will read it in 10 years time who NEED it. Nothing else matters.
💜💜💜
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htchnr · 6 days
Text
heya you guys, just to make something clear that apparently needs to be said;
TLDR ; sending the same requests to multiple authors at once isn't cool. therefore i'll be posting the ones that i've noticed that have been double sent to other authors behind a paywall on my Patreon. it'll be $6,50 to read all of them once they're all out. read the post for more details and which fics i'm talking about.
i'm sorry i'm taking a little while with some of these requests that y'all have sent me — but to see the exact request in someone else's inbox (on waaay more than just one occasion) is not cool.
i'm not a writing machine, i've got college and work besides also having free time to do things with my hobbies.
it feels pretty dang sucky when i see requests i've gotten a week and a half-ish ago in other people's inboxes or already having been written by other people that you've sent the requests to. it's not nice nor cute to double send requests to multiple authors.
therefor i'll add each request i've found either directly coppied into other people's inboxes or already fulfilled by other authors on this site or others in a list below that will only become available on my Patreon. i do still really want to post the fics i've been working on, since the requests are super neat and really cool, but i will be putting them behind a paywall for the reason listed above.
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I CAN DREAM, CAN'T I?
THE CHEMISTRY BETWEEN US.
OLD WORLD BLUES.
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now my Patreon is not pricey, it's $6,50 to able to read all the posts once they're all posted. and i will post here and let y'all know once they're all out so you don't have to pay and then wait (that would be really dang lame i know).
i really do not like to have to get negative here, but writing is one of my biggest hobbies and i really deeply enjoy it and it's truly an outlet for my feelings and my love for characters. but please keep in mind that your favorite authors are humans too, and have lives outside of the platforms they post on!
also, another note while i have y'all here,
please stop double or even tripple requesting things from me! yes lovelies, i see every message in my inbox and i write them all down. just cause i haven't responded to a message or posted it does not mean i'm not working on it nor that i haven't seen it. i check my inbox waaay too many times per day (fr, someone take the internet away from me LOL) so i see every message/request. don't worry your pretty little heads about it.
lots of love,
Aurora xx
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vaspider · 2 months
Note
Do you have any advice you're able to give currently on dealing with ableist harassment and dogpiles? It's the whole nine yards - people putting words in our mouth even to the point of claiming we said the opposite of what we said; calling us crazy and insane and saying we should be institutionalized; blaming us for horrific and violent ableist harassment of people who also reblogged the same post we did who disagreed with us; and directly talked over and erased my experiences as a severely disabled person.
(What I said literally boiled down to: "hey, let's not moralize having hobbies because it doesn't make people less capable of harm or more likely to be an asshole, and also please stop saying all disabled people are abled enough to have hobbies because I've been disabled enough before to not be able to have even consumptive (meaning like watching tv or listening to music) hobbies for long stretches of time". There's a similar longer version of that on my personal blog as well, but the harassment is on my shared disability sideblog.)
Like I guess I just... it's okay if people disagree, but the amount of other disabled people who were actively cruel and literally saying people like me don't exist and being so desperate to shut me up talking about my experiences with ableism that they spam harassed the blog is really hard. Like I've been on the internet long enough to know that this is utterly par for the course for disability discourse and even to know that any claim of "can you believe someone said [ridiculous thing] is ableist" is a dogwhistle that it's either manipulation of or outright lies about what the original disabled person actually said in order to shut down the actual conversation but...
I know you've dealt with this, so do you have any more advice on how to handle it than "turn off anon, temporarily turn off asks if necessary, delete the reblog if the harassment gets too much" (already done, mod health comes before discourse as a hard rule)? Especially for like, dealing with the internal emotions about it and not just the situation?
Um also if you don't want to answer this at all feel free to just like, put a stop sign emoji or something and I won't send any more asks about it. I know you publish all asks but since I know this is a stressful subject I still wanna let you know that I will NOT be an unsafe person if you just wanna tell me to fuck off X)
This has been sitting in my inbox for quite a while bc I didn't have the energy to answer it.
There's no one good way to deal with dogpiles, and you've already listed most of them. A couple more, randomly:
Make sure you take time away. Go see a movie bc it'll make you put your phone away, you know?
Have someone else look at your asks and emails so you ain't gotta.
Report shit. It won't really do anything, but it'll make you feel better, anyway.
If you're actually physically threatened or any of the things really twig your "something is really wrong," make a Google Drive folder and stash screenshots in case shit escalates to you needing to talk to law enforcement. If nothing else, it'll help you feel like you're in control.
The last one is more helpful than you'd think.
I hope it's let up for you.
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shining-star-system · 2 months
Text
Tw syscourse heavy, transRAMCOA & RAMCOA mentions, transCSA mentions, transProgrammer/transProgrammed mentions. Again HEAVY syscourse. Not happy about all of this so it’ll probably come out strong (I don’t mean it strongly just in annoyance).
Every time I pop up and just look through Tumblr, the horror stories of endos and whatever other non-traumatized “system” really irks me. That and these “transRAMCOA” assholes.
The endos first. All endos want to say is that they’re invalid to claim they have a trauma disorder without trauma. That literally goes against itself in a single statement. “I have a trauma disorder but I have no trauma.” You are quite literally contradicting yourself in the same sentence.
“But what if they don’t remember their trauma?!” If they aren’t sure of being plural and won’t do genuine research and say, “hey, my symptoms line up with this and I realize that this term isn’t what I am” then that’s a big iffy. I know some people always want anti endos to be “endo neutral” but nah. Fuck that. I’ve seen so many other blogs comment about how endogenics send them anonymous asks to say rude and mean things completely.
“But why do you believe those?” Because the ones that aren’t truly being victimized will always go and hound someone’s ass because they’ve been called out. I’ve never seen one person that was truly dealing with OSDDID comment to someone else wanting them to go harm themselves because they got called fake and invalid, I’ve seen a majority breakdown. Ourselves included.
I’m surprised with my standing about not receiving any anonymous messages telling us things, but I feel like the last time we said anything about it, we did say we’d post the ask any way and just mock. Hell, we enjoy vicious mockery (heavy D&D need).
But on the topic of transRAMCOA, transProgrammer, transProgrammed, transCSA.
All of you are twats. Complete and utter assholes. And I’ll stand by that. True survivors have a very little space to be able to go to and to find a community. And I thought here would be fine but no.
You REALLY don’t want genuine torture to happen to you. I don’t want to get into the parts of it that we can comment on. But what the fuck? Why must all of you say shit like “I want this to happen to me!” “I want to do this to people!” “I want to be this!” “I should have experienced this!”
What does that do to genuine survivors? Endogenics and their supporters are already making it hard for genuine systems to get a diagnosis and not a lot of licensed professionals are following the dissociative disorders due to TikTok trends. What do you think you’re all doing to genuine RAMCOA/OEA survivors? You’re taking away the little things we genuinely have and that’s messed the fuck up.
No one should have to go through shit like that, let alone children. It’s completely and utterly mad that adults and children want to wish this something like that happened. And if you’re a minor, please stay safe. Stop saying shit like that before you genuinely do get hurt because it will happen. The internet is fucking crazy. It’s not a bad thing to practice internet safety before it’s too late.
I know we spill our guts here on this blog but I’d rather someone be able to relate to the things I spew than have to out themselves and have a target on their back.
But this whole tirade of bullshit like this (it is bullshit), I can’t support anyone who says something like that.
Sure, they might not remember their trauma, but they’re associating with a term against our dni. And I won’t support them with that term anywhere.
That’s just our thoughts on the matter. And I’m not happy about the things I’ve seen recently. Stop being jealous and romanticizing someone else’s trauma. It’s disgusting.
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nburkhardt · 1 year
Text
Quick, modern day!
He’s stuck. He’s twenty years old and he’s stuck. Been out of high school for a few years, didn’t get into any college his family wanted. All of his friends either he ditched them or they’re all too young. Working a dead-end job, not loving it and quickly getting into a routine that’s making him go crazy.
“Stuck” is the only way to describe him.
His only outlet is writing out whatever thoughts he has, usually just phrases that make no sense to others or it seems like lyrics or poems. It’s doesn’t see the light of day, all of them locked up in his notes app.
It happens by accident.
He’s not one to believe in signs, not really. But after coming across multiple people change the direction of their life by just leaving their hometown, well, who could blame him? Seeing someone admit on the news that they just packed up their stuff in their car and drove and drove and drove away, was the best thing for them. Even if they had no money to their name or a house to call their home.
It was freeing, it was a second chance. It was amazing.
Reading back on one of his notes, his eyes taking in some of the words and seeing lyrics to something jump at him. Without anything but a simple beat and a rough voice, he started recording and eventually ending up with his goodbye. His note to anyone that would care for him. Telling those that this is his chance, he’s done being stuck and needs an out. Telling his parents that he did his best, that it should’ve been enough. That this is his life, that he’s not angry anymore.
This is his second chance at life and he needs this.
After getting the video all set to his liking, he quickly picked his bags and threw them in his car, started to drive away. Waiting until he’s long past the Hawkins welcome sign, pulling to a stop on the side. To post the video, to send the video as well.
“Please don’t be angry, I’m not afraid. This goodbye is a second chance for me”
A few days later, the video is trending. The internet wondering who this guy is, where he’s going and what made him take a risk. The only clue to who he is being his username: TheHair
———
This definitely popped into my head while listening to Shinedown’s “Second Chance” and it wouldn’t leave me alone. I even stopped painting something to type this up, it probably doesn’t make a whole lot of sense since it has no name to the character or that there’s no dialogue.
If it didn’t click once until the end, it’s about a modern day Steve. Throw canon out the window okay? This Steve helped the Party once or twice. Only Dustin taking the time to get to know him but there’s still a good chunk of years between them. He and Nancy broke up and he ditched Tommy still, but since the upside down isn’t a thing here…he never met Robin or Eddie. His parents aren’t terrible but they aren’t that loving either.
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