#I’d be a liar and a hypocrite

[daydadahlias]

hey <3 what do you think of dead dove fics?

don’t eat <3

nah I’m just kidding. rip in advance if you wanted a concise answer to this bc u def came to the wrong person for that 💙

Anyway, I have a lot of Thoughts on dd fics (unsurprisingly so bc I have a lot of thoughts about everything) but I will preface by saying if anyone who followed me in 2021 is reading this and going “well that’s definitely not what you said back then you little minx 🤨” just know that sometimes it takes time for people to mature and better understand concepts to form articulate, educated opinions on them. And also, I was evil back then.

That being said, I think the concept of dd fics is more layered than some allow it to be. And, largely, this comes down the dispute of 1) what is safe sane consensual kink and 2) does fiction exist inside a vacuum?

Personally, I don’t think fiction does and I don’t really have a lot of patience for people who say “it’s just fiction it doesn’t mean anything or affect anyone stfu 🙄” bc that’s just showing a lack of understanding for how art and life interplay.

I think that if you read enough fucked up material (or material about anything) - especially when you’re younger and developing and don’t have appropriate models to contrast it to - you end up having your perceptions of life warped around nonexistent ideals.

So, I do worry greatly about young people reading dead dove fics and potentially not understanding that’s what they are. I’ll just go right out and say that happened to me! I read a lot of really fucked up material when I was super young bc hello unlimited internet access and it severely affected my brain and my perspectives on the world and it has taken me a very long time to reconcile that and understand myself. And I wonder a lot about what I would be like if I HADNT been up at 2 am reading torture porn when I was 12 lol!!

And of course someone could argue with me on this point and say “well but Jess that’s not the creator’s responsibility to protect readers from themselves; it’s the consumer’s responsibility to know whether they’re mature enough or not to read something” but my problem is that it is and will always be the writer’s job to at least say in the A/N “hey, this is not ok irl, and is not an accurate reflection of sex. Please do not practice this irl” or something to that effect.

If people want to write “fucked up” fics, far be it from me to tell them not to!! Especially when I myself have plenty of concerning kinks! Like, I’m literally into kidnapping?? That does not scream stable! But writers have an obligation to tag their material correctly and update tags when asked. And that’s something I’ll always believe no matter what!! And something I will always pride myself on in my own writing/relationship with my audience.

Anyway, in terms of kink itself, here’s where things get a bit tricky for me to explain. I do, to some extent, believe that all kinks are “valid” in the sense that I genuinely know kinks and fetish aren’t controllable for an individual. You don’t just have full choice to decide to be into something (what an easy life it would be if you could). But, what you can control, is the way that you choose to interact with content related to your fetish.

If you have a potentially “damaging kink” — say, for instance, a cnc kink or an outright rape kink (which are often the subject of dd fics) — it is your responsibility to interact with that content in the safest way possible to keep people irl — and also yourself! — safe.

This means, if you write rape fiction, you need to have warnings in place to say this is NOT okay to recreate irl and it is NOT okay if you treat someone like this or someone treats you like this.

And I know you’re thinking “Jess?? Readers aren’t stupid?? They know rape is bad?? They don’t need to be told that??” But, here’s the thing, children do need to be told that. And if you’re posting on the internet, there is a STRONG chance a child/adolescent with unrestricted access to an iPad will read that content you’ve made and not understand what it is and it will affect their view of sex. And if you’re a writer who isn’t considering that potentiality, you don’t need to be posting fic or writing publicly and that’s my ~opinion~

Moving forward from that, I think there’s different types of dead dove fics (rape is an example but we also have stuff like beastiality, murder, gore, necro, scat, etc) and I’m not saying some are more “valid” than others but I think some are, in my personal opinion, more defendable than others in my own view. And there are some that I think are not defendable at all.

For instance, pedophilia fics (ie. fics that actively portray sex scenes between adults and minors for the gratuitous, erotic nature of it) are, to me, completely unredeemable.

If I were to find out a person I knew actively read pedophilia fic, I would forcibly remove them from my life. Because I do genuinely believe that people who read those stories are bordering on being as criminal as those who watch pedophilic videos. I think they need clinical psychological help. I do not think there is any reason whatsoever even remotely that a person should ever be reading or writing such material for personal pleasure.

So, for dd fics like that, my opinion stands as “this is concerning on a larger scale than just fiction as this could very well perpetuate pedophilic ideologies among readers and the writer and could lead to the harm of actual real life children.”

Now, for dd fics that are about, say, murder or gore… I think the line gets a bit fuzzy there for me because I personally love a torture moment. I’m not a murder stan and it kind of gives me the Ick when people romanticize murder but, like, I sure did write a ton of incredibly graphic fucked up gore when I was a kid and I still search “torture” willy nilly on ao3 in my fave fandoms. Certainly not for 5sos though bc it being rpf provides a few ethical concerns for me personally that I wouldn’t feel comfortable with. Which brings up the topic of, is dd different for rpf than it is for fictional fandoms? Personally, I believe so, but I think that’s very up to the individual.

I think that, really with dd fics, people just need to be aware of how to tag appropriately and protect readers from inaccurately perceiving something as normal that could be harmful.

But, I also understand that dd fics can be used to help people process trauma and heal from internalized shame. So, I would be hypocritical and kind of a dick to say I denounce them entirely. But i do also think there should be some consideration of Why certain things are being written/read and what the larger implications of them are on our society :)

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 22] || [Chapter 22.5] || [Chapter 24]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.1K~ cw: selfish john price, also john price is a hypocrite/liar? Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: Their drinks + nicotine of choice is fully INSPIRED by this post by @ceilidho

Chapter 23: Kiss and Tell?

Simon, Kyle and Johnny sat outside the base, in the open air, each one of them engaging in their typical vices.

Simon with a milky breakfast tea and a nicotine patch, Johnny with a vape and an Ultra Blue Monster, Kyle with a weird green tea drink and a cigarette.

It’s way too early in the day for them to be doing that… But they are nonetheless.

They’re just having some downtime, talking to one another, shooting the shit… Not at all waiting for you to wake up and text them back, not at all.

John joins them soon after and sits beside them, carrying a cup of black coffee and one of his usual cigars. He sits down with a groan before kicking his legs up on the ledge of the outdoor table.

“Captain.” The men greet him as he lights his cigarette and grumbles a “Lads” in return.

“A word?” John says as he puffs from his cigarette, wet lips and tongue tasting the brown wrapping as he sucks in the smoke.

That attracts the attention of the other three, all of them glancing over with varying degrees of displayed intrigue.

“I’d like in on your little… agreement.” He says casually while exhaling the smoke and taking a sip of his pisswater-like coffee.

The lads look at each other, almost like silently begging each other to say something.

“Why, Captain?” Kyle ends up asking, leaning forward on his knees to glance at John.

“What Ghost said resonated with me.” He explains. “How I enjoyed my time with them as well.” He says simply.

“Right, but that’s different from datin’ them.” Ghost retorts as he sips from his milk tea, brown eyes locked onto John as if trying to read his intentions. “Can’t just force something that isn’t there.”

“I know that, Simon.” John retorts, his eyes boring into Simon’s harshly, causing a blonde eyebrow to raise in response. “But I wanted to talk with you lot about it before I go on pursuing them.” He explains.

Simon can tell John is hiding something, but he knows better than to address it in front of everyone. He knows Kyle and Johnny trust John blindly, and he doesn’t want to ween them of that with a harsh reality check.

“Well…” Ghost says with a shrug, fingers nudging at the nicotine patch on his shoulders while pretending to stretch his arms a bit. He’s been wearing them as an extra ‘pick me up’ for a decade now. “Not like we’re a… ‘closed’ relationship.” He explains.

“We’re not?” Johnny asks playfully. “Ye’re seein’ more people on the side, L.T.?” Johnny quips with a smirk on his lips while setting his Monster can down and taking a hit from his flavored vape.

“Yeah, you cheating on us?” Kyle jokes with a smirk.

“Oh, piss off, both of ya.” The blond retorts and rolls his eyes, sipping his tea once more, earning some laughs around the table. “Bloody insufferable, you are.” He adds, causing the younger sergeants to nudge each other while murmuring “He’s talking about you.”s to one another.

“What I’m trying to say is,” He tells John as he looks the older man in the eyes. “you shouldn’t be askin’ us about this. It’s all on them if they take you into the fold.” Simon retorts.

“Already did.” John replies, eyebrows raising as he takes another puff of his cigar. “Paid them a visit last night, explained what I felt about your situation, they eased a lot of my worries…” He trails off. He’s mostly saying the truth.

“Helped me realize maybe I was just… feeling left out.” He says. He conveniently forgets to mention he spent half of the night rearranging your guts. They don’t need to know that.

“No way, Captain, ye were jealous?!” Johnny teases and then bursts into laughter, for which Kyle joins him.

“Yeah, yeah, take the piss out of me all you want.” John quips and rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance, but hiding a little satisfied smirk behind the rim of his mug. He’s not going to deny it.

“Well, I’m fine with it… The more the merrier!” Soap says to Price with a chuckle and a wagging of his brows.

After a sip of his green tea drink, Kyle speaks: “Filthy pig.”, earning a nudge on his side. 

“Haud yer wheesht! I weren’t the one balls deep in ‘em last week.” Soap retorts.

John’s attention is turned to the bickering Sergeants, having been unaware of that detail until now.

“I was just being a good friend!” Kyle retorts as he takes a drag of his nearly-burned-through cig. “Was shaggin’em for Simon.”

“Don’t drag me into this… I didn’t ask you to do that.” Simon retorts as he narrows his eyes at Kyle.

“Oh, please, as if your blood didn’t rush ‘down south’ before I even arrived-” Kyle continues his playful tease.

“Right. Ye’re speakin’ as if ye weren’t jerkin’ off the whole time, L.T.” Johnny adds.

“Wait, he was jerkin’ it?” Kyle asks with a gasp as he turns to his right side to glare at Johnny.

“Aye? Ye didn’t see? Ye were there!” Johnny tells Kyle.

“I was occupied, Johnny!” Kyle replies, though he looks like he’s a bit sheepish about saying it aloud.

“That ye were.” Johnny quips with a smirk. Kyle rolls his eyes. “Didn’t peg ye for a shaver.” He adds.

Kyle groans in frustration, even he getting a bit flustered/annoyed by Johnny’s teasing. He looks over at Simon, as if seeking out help only for the blond to say. “Don’t worry, Kyle, it’s good you shave. You’ve got a really pretty cock.”

“That he does.” Price slips in casually as he sips his black tea again, which causes the other men’s eyes to widen as they stare at him like he’s just said something unexpected.

“What? I’ve seen all of you naked.” John shrugs and smirks playfully under his mustache.

That leaves the other men sputtering a bit, exchanging glances, three pairs of eyes trying to wordlessly figure out if the others know that the Captain isn’t just hinting at ‘locker rooms’, ‘showers’ or ‘urinals’ for all three of them… 

Trying to figure out if the others have figured out that all of them have been below the Captain at one point or another in the last decade.

John knows better than to let them figure it out, so he instead changes subjects: “So… when are you planning on making it official with them?”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @cod-z , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

[po11yannaswife]

𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑁.𝐼 ๋࣭⭑𝜗𝜚

𖹭 𝑃𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝐺𝑟𝑎𝑦 𝑥𝐹𝑒𝑚!𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𖹭 ;

𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝐼𝐼 ; 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝐼 𝑜𝑓 𝑐𝑖𝑟𝑐𝑎 1923-1924

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑠𝑒𝑚𝑖-𝑎𝑏𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠, 𝑔𝑜𝑟𝑒, 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑧𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑜𝑝ℎ𝑜𝑏𝑖𝑎, 𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑟-𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠, 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ, ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑦 𝑑𝑒𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑃𝑇𝑆𝐷.

𝐅𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟒

How I’ve been busy these days.

Grace and Thomas are getting married in two weeks, and I have been expected to help plan it, help with the customs of her dress, make sure Charlie is taken care of if Thomas and Grace have chosen to go out and plan themselves. Or fuck. In return I’m being taught Romani and have a nicer paycheque.

I’m too nice to reject helping the two, even if I don’t fancy Grace. She has a notorious past of being a snitch to the Shelby family, a liar. Somehow, she made her way into Thomas’s heart, and now they have a child together and she is to be joining their family. It’s not my family, so I don’t think I have the right to say much..do I? I don’t have a clue anymore.

When I say I don’t fancy Grace, I mean I don’t trust her. I dislike her. The only reason I am helping, is because she makes Thomas happy. She gave him a child. She gave him the ability to feel true love, to feel the beauty of romance once more and unleash a more affectionate side of him. For that, I do appreciate her for. Usually, if someone did what she did to Tommy, they’d be six feet under, only remains of their bones to be found and the blood would be on Shelby's hands. But, odd enough, he did the complete opposite.

I’m not one to judge being in a very odd love situation, though. I’d be a hypocrite. I have been, for the past four bloody years, desperately in love with Polly. Everything she does ignites this peculiar sense of happiness and fluttering feeling inside of me. Every time she speaks to me, god forbid praises me for my work, my feet kick on their own and an uncontrollable smile happens. I feel like a giddy school girl who has a crush on their superior. It’s awful.

I don’t know if she has noticed. If she has, I’d be surprised she hasn’t shot me yet and gets it over with. Who would want a younger girl hopelessly in love with them? The same bloody sex as them? I couldn’t imagine the stress, the disgust. I feel as if I’d kill myself first if Polly were to make it known she was disgusted or repelled by me, though. And luckily, I don’t think she is.

Ada on the other hand, most definitely has and that brings a sense of fear to me once more. She talks, and it’s not like I told her!  She said she knew by the look in my eye whenever I see Polly, how they dilate immensely, how my cheeks go slightly red..I don’t know. She just blatantly asked when Polly left the room and I couldn’t deny it..I tried.

What scares me is that Polly is much more aware and she knows everything. Does she know about my infatuation with her? God, does she know of this journal? Four years of pure mind vents of my love for her? I think I’d burn this, then go hang myself before I bloody burn in the flames of hell.

With Love.

"Excuse me, Miss Y/l/n?" Francis interjected, capturing your attention as you turned your head. "Do you happen to know where Grace would like this?" She gestured towards the enormous painting of a horse, particularly Tommy's favourite.

You gazed at the painting for a moment, closing your journal in the process. Feeling a bit uncertain, you rose from your seat and surveyed the walls of Tommy's office. As the other maids' murmurs filled the air, you pointed hesitantly at a blank space between two bookshelves and suggested, "I believe this spot should work well, I think."

Oh, yes, the part no one could forget. Partially designing their new countryside mansion! Extremely exciting and absolutely not stressful at all! Why would such a joy ever be stressful?...get the sarcasm yet?

Watching as they went over to that wall and began to place it, looking over at you for your reference. “Here? Or higher?”

"An inch higher... no, a bit lower," you directed, unintentionally losing sight of the strain the maids were enduring. Their discomfort went unnoticed as they struggled to raise the artwork above their heads. One of them held a nail and a hammer, wincing quietly. "Higher," you insisted, the collective groans of the maids unintentionally disregarded.

"Higher- Oh, fuck!" Fortunately, your close proximity allowed you to just manage to catch the priceless painting before disaster struck. "The centre will do! Just in the middle!" You made your decision right then, feeling how heavy the painting was.

With urgency, the maid on the stool grabbed the nail and swiftly drove it into the wall. The frame's edge pressed into your shoulder, a pang of guilt striking you for not fully acknowledging the two women who awaited your decision. "Gently lift the painting upward, that's perfect." The maid on the stool commanded softly.

As a bunch, you guided the artwork, skillfully hooking the wire onto the sturdy nail. The two maids released their grip as you carefully pressed the painting against the wall, ensuring it hung straight. You slid your hands together swiftly afterwards, taking a deep breath. 

“I apologise to the two of you for not choosing quicker.” You spoke to the two women who stood behind you, massaging their own hands as mumbles came from the both of them. “That is one bloody hefty painting, innit Francis?”

“I would’ve made sure to warn you if I would have known you were to help hang it,” She admitted as the third maid climbed down the stool, getting out of your view. “Thank you.”

“Why is that fucking thing so heavy?” You breathlessly rhetorically asked, rubbing your shoulder. “I mean, I get it’s a painting, but fucking Christ.”

Francis chuckled, “Mr. Shelby has exquisite taste, and I presume his taste means we have to almost kill ourselves decorating with it.” You agreed with a hum, turning back to the woman. “You should go home, it’s getting late.”

“Can’t do that with how much they expect of me,” You sighed, “There’s work to do, and if I don’t do it, it’ll stress me out that I have to do it.”

There was silence between the both of you until Francis spoke, her statement making your heart just slightly drop.

“You’re turning into Mr. Shelby.”

𝐅𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝟏𝟒𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟒

It is Valentine’s day and I cannot say I am happy today for any reason.

Francis has a day off, which means I am taking care of Charlie. Ada is too far in London, and Polly is taking care of the betting shop. Now, I don’t understand why another maid cannot just take care of him. But, what can I do? I’m not gonna let the boy be alone. I make this sound like I take care of him everyday, which isn’t the case, but I’m here quite often. Somehow, I’m starting to miss Small Heath…fuck, am I homesick? 

It’s not like I have any romance with anyone, any partner. I’m not missing out on a fancy outing with my significant other or a good fuck. I never even had a fuck but, still. I’ve always heard in the magazines and books I read it feels good and magical almost. How intimate it is and it’s the best when miracles of life come from it. In real life on the other hand? I've heard quite a different perspective, especially from housewives in places like Birmingham and France. They describe it as becoming monotonous after a few repetitions. According to their accounts, the husband's experience is often centred around his own satisfaction, with little consideration for the wife's pleasure. This seems incredibly..unfair to me. What's even more perplexing is that these same wives end up getting pregnant repeatedly without seemingly experiencing any pleasure from the act. I get so confused. Why does the man receive all the satisfaction while the woman is left with the responsibility of taking care of his children, especially when he might be engaging with prostitutes under the guise of work? I've encountered numerous such men at the betting shop, and I've managed to restrain my reactions in their presence, despite my feelings about it.

Thing is, I don’t want a man to fuck me. Cocks have never gained my attraction, they scare me. And men with their entitlement and nasty personas, just wanting a weak housewife for her to take care of him..it repulses me. I’ve never felt any sort of sexual attraction really, until I think of Polly. It’s this funny feeling, I’m not dumb to not know I’m turned on. I just don’t know how to..take care of it. I think I’m sexually frustrated. Romantically, everything. I’m frustrated with my love life because the person I love is a bloody woman..whom I haven’t seen in a week and I am beginning to go mental. I need to hear her voice again and a single embrace. I love spending time with Charlie and in this beautiful home, but I love her more. 

On the other more serious side, Thomas has let me know that we’ve begun business in Russia. They need weapons, imports, things like that. Britain has gotten him, well, us involved with this to be civil Russian war..it’s hard to understand. Thomas supplies them with weapons since Britain cannot show their support for the capitalists. I’m not good at political topics, but I have some base. I have the burden of being one of the only people knowing this as well, thanks to Tommy. Then, we are dealing with Italians once more, the Changrettas. I pray that they won’t start a war or anything of violent matters.

Oh, not to mention, Arthur has this really religious woman that he plans on marrying, Linda. I don’t like her. She’s real odd. But I suppose love is love, even with some weird eerie Catholic lady.

With Love.

𝐅𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝟐𝟕𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟒

The day of Tommy’s and Grace’s wedding and I cannot deny that I am nervous. It is six in the morning as I write this in the car, one of the blinders giving me the ride to Warwickshire. That’s a silly name, even when writing it I giggle to myself. It sounds like a candle.

I will be helping the maids prepare for the celebrations after the ceremony, handling Grace’s hair which I don’t mind, and before even attempting to run to the ceremony, make sure Charlie is in good hands with Francis. I feel like a permanent, more trusted maid for the two lovebirds. I don’t know if I hate it, but all I know is my stress is at an all time high. I hope to see the wedding ceremony, but if I don’t, it’s okay I guess.

There isn’t much else to say here. The day hasn’t even started, I’m not even at the manor or, as properly named, the Arrow House. I hope all goes well and the future newlyweds can enjoy their day without any mishaps. This is the Peaky Blinders we’re speaking of here so, that probably won’t happen.

With Love.

“Mr. Shelby hasn’t mentioned you’re a writer, Miss Y/l/n.” The driver stated his observation in almost a flirtatious tone. “You an author?”

You laughed, shutting the book and putting it into your bag that was full with the dress and accessories for later in the day. “No, no. I journal as a way to speak freely of my experiences without the stress of someone saying anything. It’s nothing, really.”

“Without the stress of someone saying anything?” He cocked a brow, repeating your statement in a more questioning way. “Why, you’ve been bad? What do you do, pretty girl?”

This felt weird, and not in a good way. He knew what you did for a living, everyone knew that associated with the peaky blinders, so why was he seemingly trying to get something out of you? That or..horrible flirting. His question still stood, so you answered it as subtly as you could. “No. Just have been doing my job.” 

The way he was silent for the rest of the ride made you assume that your stern tone made him equally uncomfortable. Once you were in front of the house, you opened the door, searched through your pocket and took out three quid. “I haven’t been informed on what your pay is, so this is an appreciation. But, listen to me closely,” You leaned in, getting the man slightly scared just from the tone in your voice as it lowered a few octaves.

“Don’t ever question what we do, especially to us. You know what we do. Understood?” You questioned, narrowing your eyes at him.

He quickly nodded, “Yes ma’am.” 

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed a hold of your bag and left the car, shutting the door behind you. You took a key out of your pocket and welcomed yourself in, gently closing the door. The quietness that filled the home made you weary of your footsteps, ready to take your stilettos off so the clicking wouldn’t disturb anyone.

Voices upstairs could be heard once you were in the dining room, by now it was around seven. A sigh escaped your lips as you placed your bag down. Driven by your lingering sense of paranoia, you retrieved a needle and thread to mend the already-buttoned opening. It was a seemingly small action, but your cautious nature prevailed. In your view, there was no such thing as being overly cautious.

A sudden exclamation from Francis, calling out "Oh, Miss Y/l/n!" startled you, causing the needle to prick your finger. However, you had become somewhat used to this sensation by now. Bringing your finger to your lips, you sucked on it for a moment before resuming your task, focusing on stitching diligently.

"Good morning, Francis," you said in a subdued tone as she approached, her curiosity evident. Anticipating her unspoken query, you explained, "I can't bring myself to leave this with just a button. I'm sewing it shut, so later on, I can easily cut it open with a blade."

Francis raised an eyebrow and suggested, "You are aware that you have your own personal room, yes?"

Confused by the statement, you halted your stitching. You inquired, "I wasn't informed about any personal room…?"

Responding wordlessly, Francis gestured for you to follow her, picking up your bag as she did so. Your eyes widened at the realisation, and you swiftly stood up, hurrying to keep pace with her. “Francis, please be careful, that has my dress and necklace-!” You seethed as the bag swung a little too much, hitting the railing. 

She continued her way up the stairs, wandering you both down the never ending hallways of the house. Your eyes automatically gazed on their family portraits and various other paintings in awe as you stepped up the stairs, wishing to be so rich you could get a portrait of yourself one day.

"Tonight, all members of the Shelby family will be assigned rooms, but Mr. Shelby specifically requested a permanent arrangement for yours," she informed you. With a touch of irony, she opened a door directly opposite Charlie's room and carefully placed your bag on the loveseat within.

At this point, there was no concealing your awe. The room was a marvel to behold. Lavish golden sconces, intricate stained glass, and a captivating view of the grand entrance through the windows. it was a space that could very well overlook your entire residence in Small Heath. Correction, it most certainly did. "Miss Burgess also insisted that this room be yours, as it's in proximity to Charlie's room. Furthermore, their own bedroom is only a few doors down the hall. The lavatory can be found further along the corridor, and you'll find cloths in the linen closet."

“Fuck..” You breathed out, studying the exquisite bedroom. “Thank you.”

Francis nodded, “Shall I come in when Miss Burgess needs you?” She stopped herself, pinching her nose. “You’ll be helping us..nevermind. Apologies.”

“No worries. I’ll be down in a few. Where are we starting, by the way?” 

“The main entertainment room. We begin the dining later on before the ceremony. We’ll start earlier for your sake of getting to the ceremony.” You smiled at the consideration, relieved that you may possibly be able to.

“Right, thank you Francis.” She bowed her head before leaving the bedroom to yourself, shutting the wooden door behind her.

You went over to your bag that was sitting on the loveseat, taking the blade from your garter and slicing the unfinished stitching. You took out your dress, smiling at it briefly before laying it down on the bed. You took your journal out and put it at the desk area, trusting no one would touch it. Everything was out of the bag from the dress to your heels, putting it snugly under the bed.

After a few minutes, you checked on Charlie before going back downstairs, finding all the maids right where they were expected to be. They all looked at you as if you were their leader, and you looked at the underdecored room and the fancy decorations in stacks near a corner.

You smacked your lips, debating whether or not to run out and leave to get out of it. Instead, you clapped your hands, “Right, Ethel, begin with the bowls for the alcohol, everyone else, begin melting the candles to the candelabrums! Please!” Everyone nodded and went to their destinations of their jobs, leaving you to start giving the men jobs. “John, William, Henry, begin to set up the dancing area where the musicians will be playing. Thank you.”

They all nodded, walking away. You stood there, savouring the relaxation you had for those few seconds before getting to work with the other ladies, already awaiting for Grace to call you up just to get away from chaos.

And as quick as it was, three hours had passed and Francis had called for you, letting you leave the other women and go find her. Once you did, she smiled politely. “Miss Burgess will see you now.”

“Thank you, Francis. Once again.” You stepped up the stairs, heading straight for the main bedroom that Grace and Tommy shared. You stopped just as you were about to knock, taking a deep breath in case there was any tension or confessions waiting to happen. As you had said before, you disliked her, didn’t hate her. You also had made the promise to Thomas that this would be a civil, peaceful day. Everyone did. No fights were to happen, and no talk of past mistakes and actions.

Finally, you knocked lightly on the door, greeted by a soft “Come in.” You turned the doorknob and let yourself in, smiling at Grace who was at her vanity. “Good morning, Y/n.”

“Morning Grace.” You replied kindly, stepping more into the room. “How are you?”

Grace laughed with a pure smile on her face, “Excited. How are you? I’ve heard you got here quite early.”

You hummed, studying her hair you had set last night. You had to wash the hair with some of the most expensive and most nicest products one could reach, wait for it to dampen up so it wouldn’t get too frizzy, take setting lotion, gently run it through the hair evenly, then use an amount of bobby pins no one could count to make these curls, and use silk to cover it for the night. Next day, now you have to take it out, and use your fingers to tame the curls before having them set, then put this wonderfully and elegant jewel encrusted aliceband over and make sure before the ceremony, her veil is fit.

You began to remove bobby pins, “I’m alright, thank you..just a little nervous.” You admitted to the woman, yawning in the process. “I’m gonna try my absolute best to make your hair as flawless as possible.”

“I trust you, Y/n, I would’ve chosen one of the maids or someone from London if I didn’t.” Grace spoke softly, filing her nails as she studied you with a concerned look . “Have you brought an outfit? I don’t mean to offend, but-”

“Don’t worry Grace, I have a more appropriate outfit for the occasion in my bedroom, which,” You plopped another pin into the dish, “You have no idea how much I am grateful for. I appreciate the kindness you and Tommy have given me to give me such a room.”

Grace chuckled, looking at you through the mirror. “You’ve helped us much with our baby boy and getting settled here. You earned that room, Y/n.” You smiled in response, staying silent as you focused on her hair and getting it finished so she could move on with other responsibilities.

There were a few minutes of complete silence between the two of you, avoiding Grace’s occasional gaze was a little tough, feeling a little awkward before she sucked in a breath. You looked at her with your eyebrows raised, worried something was wrong. 

“You do think Thomas loves me, yes?”

The question made you freeze, wondering why she’d ask you such a peculiar thing. Everyone has doubts and thoughts on their big day, but what you were confused on was why she was asking specifically you this question. Taking one of the very last pins out, you grabbed the comb that was beside her and finally peered up at her.

After a second of mustering up your thoughts, your thumb ran along the edges of the comb. “Grace, may I give you an honest answer?” She nodded, slight fear visible in her blue eyes. You began to lightly comb through the curls, no longer looking at her. “If anyone else did the things you did to Tommy and Ada, they would be dead. They would be brutally murdered by our men.” You stated gently, turning her head to the side. “But, you, Grace, because you had stolen his heart, because you bloody had him fall in love with you, he didn’t. He didn’t dare to hurt you. And that, my love, that is true love. You betrayed him and yet he still came back, and that shows me how much he does truly love you and forgive you for your selfish mistakes.”

Grace stared at you as you explained your words, not offended, just surprised. “I’m happy for you both, but you wanted the honest truth.”

“I did.” Grace responded quickly, folding her hands in her lap. “And I appreciate it. I appreciate you for treating me well and supporting our decision.”

“Appreciate me?” You quipped, puzzled. “For supporting your decision to get married to Tommy?”

“We both know how Polly feels about this.” She narrowed her eyes at you, her voice more stern. “So yes, I do appreciate you.”

“I think Polly is valid for the way she feels, you know how she is, Grace.” You said truthfully, sighing in the process. “No means to offend, but she doesn’t trust you one bit. Nor has she forgotten. The ones you think have forgotten haven’t, they’re just pretending to do so to either to make Tommy happy, or for their own benefit. I do believe people can change, Grace, believe me when I say this. I believe you have indeed changed, but we will still never forget.”

Grace didn’t say one word, just gazing at you with such..guilt? You didn’t know. “How about we focus on the nice things today, eh? You have a bright baby boy, you’re getting married, you’re filthy rich, have a huge manor, and have a very attractive husband to be. You’re lucky, Grace. Wish I was like you.”

“...You’re in love with-?”

“Oh, god no!” You shouted, shaking your head. “I’d rather hang myself.”

Grace furrowed her brows, “I’m marrying him.” Her voice was stern, as if she was now frustrated with your impulsive choice of words.

Awkwardly peering back up at her, you laughed, “Not- not in a bad way! No! I feel like that with all men! I mean I could never be attracted to one.” Realising what you had just said, you wanted to take the comb in your hand and stab it into your eyes. You wanted to jump out the window and let fate do the job. You wanted to die. Grace looked even more confused now, only one of her eyebrows raised. “Where’s the alice band, love?”

Her lips curved into a genuine smile, and the remark slipped from her memory as she accessed a drawer. From within, she retrieved a velvet box, presenting it to you as though it were a precious gem. “Tommy got it specially made for me. My mother wore one on her wedding day with her veil, so I must continue the tradition. Tommy and I are gonna try for a girl next, so she can carry it on.” She rambled enthusiastically, clapping her hands twice as a sign of her excitement. You smiled in return, gently taking the top off and admiring the band for a second. It was quite actually glimmering. You took it out as carefully as possible and targeted the loops, placing it on top of her head slowly before adjusting it. 

Taking one of the bobby pins, you put it through a loop at one of the ends and placed it through, then ensuring it’d stay by attaching it to her hair. You repeated the action for the other side, your hand lightly laying on her neck. “There we are, Grace.”

She grinned brightly, admiring herself in the mirror as she looked at it from all angles. “It’s gorgeous.” She spoke, turning to you after admiring herself for those few moments as you just stood there, relieved it was okay. She stood up, taking a deep breath before taking both of your hands. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” You returned a small smile, yawning once again. “Sorry.”

“You look absolutely dreadful.” You squeezed your eyes shut at the comment, facepalming yourself as Grace tried to save herself. It was really nice hearing that after all you had done. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way, Y/n. I meant it in a concerned manner.”

“It’s what happens when you don’t get any sleep.” You groaned, glancing in the mirror and trying to tame your hair slightly. 

“Here,” Grace opened her drawer, her other hand around your wrist. She pulled out a few bejewelled clips, putting her attention back on you. The glimmering Sapphire made your eyes dilate as she took a brush and brushed through your hair for a few minutes, pulling it back and delicately placing the clips in so it stayed. She placed the other two halfway to your roots, securing the clips. “It’s not as much effort as you put into my hair, but I think you look beautiful.”

You smiled, nodding in agreement. “I do. Even the little things count, eh?”

Grace chuckled, “You can keep them.”

“Oh, nonsense-”

“Please. Keep them, they’re my gift for your efforts.” Grace stopped you as you looked at her with wide eyes. “Sapphire looks wonderful with your eyes. And it is your birthstone, yes?”

The consideration and kindness made you bipolar with how you felt about Grace. It was strange. On one side, you had already explained to her that you literally disliked her, and so did most of the family. The gesture was unexpected, to say the least. On the other hand, she most likely wanted to heal the wounds she made with kindness, like right then. Nonetheless, after you thought, you gave her a small smile, murmuring an appreciation.

“If I’m holding you from tasks, you may go. I apologise for keeping you so long.” Grace offered, pushing the drawer shut and walking over to where her dress was. You looked at the clock and silently gasped, a fucking hour had passed.

“Yes, I actually must. I have to get ready myself.” You said in a panicked tone, glancing up at her one last time. “Is there anything else you need, Grace?”

“For you to get bloody ready.”

And so you did.

After her words left her lips, you swiftly made your way to your bedroom, the door meeting a resounding slam as it closed behind you. The champagne coloured satin dress laid before you, accompanied by the strap pumps recently gifted by Tommy during his New York trip with Grace, and, of course, the opal earrings from France. Except for moments of dirty tasks, the ring your mother gave you adorned your finger without failure.

Your first task involved delicately fastening your stockings to the garters, the fabric ascending to your lower thigh with a clip to your garter. Then, quickly removing your previous attire due to the frigid temperature, you hastened to slip the lightweight dress over your head, your arms seamlessly finding their places within the designated sleeves. A glance at the mirror prompted a meticulous adjustment, as you meticulously smoothed out any creases or imperfections. A content smile graced your lips as the dress obediently hugged your curves and elegantly emphasised your waist..and your cleavage just slightly.

A muffled thud against your door drew your eyebrows together in puzzlement; Francis or Grace typically announced their arrival without delay. With cautious steps, you approached the door, a soft gasp escaping as you found Charlie outside, his expression marred by a frown. "Oh, baby," you cooed, your arms embracing the…husky child as you lifted him up with a quiet grunt. You closed the door behind you, setting Charlie comfortably in a cocoon of pillows. “What were you doing out there silly?” You rhetorically asked, booping his nose which elicited a cute laugh from him. You grinned before stepping away, continuing to get ready. You closed the necklace around your neck that was simply pearls, put your earrings in with a little bit of trouble to get them through, and that was practically it. You had painted your nails the night before and your light makeup was already on.

“Charlie, honey,” You sat on the bed next to him, getting your pumps on. “I’m gonna be gone for a while, so you’re gonna go to Francis, okay?” The frown had returned as you pet his hair back lovingly, adjusting the last strap to your shoe. “Mummy will say goodbye before she leaves too.”

You stood back up and put your wrap over your shoulders, putting a coat clip in the middle so it stayed put. You then picked Charlie back up carefully, bringing him back to his bedroom where Grace was heading.              

“Y/n? Please let Francis know General Curran is welcomed inside once he arrives.” You nodded, running down the stairs just to attempt to get to the church on time, checking on the maids one last time before heading outside after letting Francis know of Grace’s message.

Panic settled in when you lost track of even planning how’d you get there, afraid of ruining your dress and looking like an idiot. You felt fucked in this situation, minutes of standing outside and debating whether to just miss it or not.

“You alright, pretty girl?” You recognised the voice immediately.

Turning to the man who had driven you earlier, he had a cheesy grin on his face as he leaned against his car. You rolled your eyes, heading right towards it. “Thank you.” You muttered as he opened the car door for you, shutting it behind. He got into his seat, immediately beginning to drive. 

“Mr. Shelby sent me for you.”

“Tommy?”

“Arthur.” He corrected. You laughed to yourself as you searched your clutch for everything you needed, shutting it once you confirmed you did.

The drive wasn’t far at all, which was the tiniest bit shocking. Once at the church, you paid him another five quid before exiting the vehicle, yelling an appreciation as you rushed yet quietly tip-toed inside.   

Arthur’s eyes lit up as you entered the church, smirking like he had just won a bet. You returned the smile before awkwardly getting on the side that obviously wasn’t full of calvary men, everyone there greeting you as you tried to get somewhere comfortable and not full of crying children.

“Y/n,” Polly called, clearly in a mood. “Here.”

With a sense of tension, you offered apologies under your breath to everyone in your acquaintance, then manoeuvred yourself to slip in behind Linda. Polly reached out, her hand enveloping your forearm as she drew you closer to her. A faint flush coloured your cheeks at her touch, and you stole a quick glance up at her.

She subjected you to a thorough gaze, her eyes meticulously taking in every inch of your being in what seemed like admiration. "You're quite the vision," she remarked, her tone suggestive of approval.

Caught off guard by her comment, your eyes widened, a hint of worry creeping in. "Oh, well, yes. Is that alright?" you stammered, concern lacing your words.

Polly cocked a brow at your question, “You worry too much, sweet girl. You look lovely.” Her hand went to your upper back, rubbing it before taking it back to herself. You couldn’t help but frown when her touch left you, feeling cold once again.

“It’s nice to meet you again, Miss Y/l/n.” Linda spoke ever so quietly, making you slowly turn towards her with a faux smile.

“No need for formalities. I’m not that old, Linda.” Polly quietly chuckled from behind you, that making you swiftly turn around again. “What? I’m not!” You shouted in a hush manner. “I’m not even 24!-”

“Hush, you silly girl. I know. I was suggesting it to someone else.” Her words were jumbled up at the end of the sentence, making sure Linda couldn’t hear it. Your cheeks flushed a bright red, feeling humiliated at this point. You cleared your throat and raised your hands to your cheeks, waiting for yourself to cool down.

A boy came around with what you had assumed was the chorus, handing it to everyone with a cheerful smile. Once he got to you, Polly, and Linda, Linda took one graciously and right when you were about to, Polly’s hand quickly snatched your wrist without even sparing a look at you, her tight grip taking you by surprise.

“Some of us know the words.” Polly firmly stated, looking down at the boy as if he was a peasant. You gave him an apologetic smile, submitting to Polly silently by not taking the paper. He walked away quickly, leaving you to finally release the breath you were holding in. Before you could even say a word, music had started playing, and Grace had arrived.

Seconds later, Grace with General Curran were walking down the aisle, everyone at this point silent except the chorus. Her veil was over her face, the purple satin dress dragging behind her elegantly. Your hands were clasped and a small smile graced your features, unaware of the fact that Polly was gazing down at you with adoration still, not a care in the world for Grace.

Vows were exchanged quickly and the knot was tied with a final kiss, one side of the room erupting with clapping and booming cheers, whilst the opposite was quiet and ever so elegantly clapping their hands. Polly slowly clapped, watching them turn back to you with not the most enthusiastic looks ever, but satisfied as Thomas raised his fist in the air like he had victory.

“Part one is done.” You said, adjusting your ring. “Now it’s the actual wedding.”

First part of the actual wedding was the annual Shelby and Burgess family photograph to be taken. Now, this was a tough part, you didn’t feel appropriately included in the picture since you weren’t a Shelby, awkwardly hugging yourself for warmth as you stood back, judgingly watching the four girls fight over a bloody bouquet.

“Oi! Y/n! The fuck are you doin’?” Arthur shouted, obviously confused which had made you even more confused.

“I’m not a Shelby. Not family, Arthur. Take the picture.” You shouted back through the wind, wincing at the chill that was sent up your spine.

“Oi, are you fuckin’ joking? Get up here!” John called out, waving his hand.

“John, I-”

Thomas cleared his throat, “Y/n, get the fuck in the picture before I have Arthur drag you up here.” He stated as if he was tired from the day already. You widen your eyes before huffing, stepping up the stairs and going to the Shelby side. “With the wives.”

Polly watched as you squished yourself beside her, Linda and Esme behind you both. You huffed once again, putting your hair behind your ears before the picture was taken. Arthur then stood beside you now, leaving you squished between Arthur and Polly. You couldn’t deny it was nice, they were both warm. He put his arm around your shoulder, “Alright! Take the photograph!” He shouted, an automatic smile tugging at your lips. The light flashed instantly, though, another type of chill was sent up your spine at this point. One even Polly could feel. 

You all stepped off as Grace began to enter the carriage, and your eyes met Tommy’s. He stared at you for only a couple seconds, cocking his head to the right before getting into the carriage with her. You looked, and you didn’t know who you were looking at, you just knew it wasn’t good.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“What the fuck do you mean the bloody Russians are here, Tommy?!” You paced in front of his desk, your voice almost a cry. 

“Refugee.” He corrected, his voice gruff. “Apparently.”

“Like I give a fuck! This is your bloody wedding day! What- what will you tell Grace? Hm? What will you tell her if-”

He sighed, pinching his nose. “I’ll tell her the truth. I just need you to keep an eye on things, because this is my fucking wedding day, and I have to spend time with my wife.” Your eyes rolled at his words, frustrated you now had this responsibility. “Don’t go around telling fucking Polly, or Arthur, or John about this until needed. You understand?” he pointed his finger at you, narrowing his eyes.

Your arms folded across your chest, squinting your eyes at him. “So what am I supposed to say when it’s obvious I’m so panicked?”

“That you’re fucking afraid you’ll never get married, something along those stupid fuckin’ lines. Point is, it is my bloody job.” He rose from his seat, pacing around the desk, and leaned slightly over you as his finger made contact with your chest with each emphasized word.“Stay fucking quiet, yeah? Nothing will happen.”

Scoffing, you retorted. “That’s what you always say. You always say nothing will happen. You always promise that nothing will go wrong. You always-” Before you could finish your sentence, his hand gripped the back of your jaw firmly, swiftly tilting your head up toward him, a gesture reminiscent of a whore getting forced to give a blowjob. No, it wasn't an appealing situation.

His face inched closer to yours, huffing. “Nothing. Will. Fucking. Happen.” The words emerged from his mouth with a coarse and irritated tone. He released your jaw moments later and then exited the room in a rush, leaving you feeling frustrated, nearly on the brink of tears, and seething with anger. Your fingertips soothed the irritated skin where he had gripped you, and you took deep breaths, determined not to ruin your makeup.

After taking minutes to yourself, you walked out of the office and into the bustling rooms full of music and dancing and alcohol, hoping to god you didn’t look bad. You pushed through crowds, feeling overwhelmed from everything going on and having to keep a lookout for god knows what.

All the men were being called downstairs, so the crowds were getting smaller, to your luck. You rushed to where alcohol was being served and gave yourself a generous amount, chugging all of it in one go. You gave smiles to everyone who passed, the only concerns in your mind was keep your dress clean and to make sure nothing happened. No fights, no bets, no cocaine, no prostitution. Now you realised, you were literally fucking security. Just glamourised.

At least you looked absolutely gorgeous.

“Y/n!” Ada chirped, her arms coming to your side and squeezing you tightly. “God, I haven’t seen you in awhile! You look lovely! A little skinnier, quite actually.”

The laugh that elicited from your lips was light and genuine, your arms going to wrap around her as well. “Tell me about it,  I’ve missed you. Tommy practically holds me hostage here.” You joked, laying a kiss on her cheek after she backed away.

“I pity you. He’s my own brother and I couldn’t even do that. Pity and admire you.” Her eyes went to the sapphire clips in your hair, her eyebrows slowly raising in curiosity. “Now I know you’d never spoil yourself like this.”

You looked around you before drawing closer to Ada, murmuring. “Grace gave them to me.” The smile that came onto her face was almost mischievous, your eyes filling with slight fear. “Do not dare to even mention this to Polly. I’ll get the most passive aggressive talk of my life.”

“So you’re fond of Grace?”

“I talked to her. She knows I dislike her, but I gave her my reasoning to why I’m not like Polly. Tommy is happy, and if she makes him happy, I’m not gonna be a cunt. Polly is valid, of course, for her feelings.”

“Aw, someone wants to make Polly happy.” Ada grinned as you side eyed her, getting a bit flustered. “I’ll make sure she has no eye on any man tonight.”

“Shut up, Ada.” You muttered, crossing your arms over your chest. “I gotta let it pass.”

“It’s been like this for four years. Now I may not be the most clever, but I do not think that is an option anymore.” Ada sighed, peering at you with a little pity. “How much do you love her, Y/n?”

The question made your head jerk at her, shaking your head from left to right. “I refuse to answer this here, Ada. I don’t want anyone knowing. I didn’t even want you to know cause I’m afraid.” 

Ada frowned, her hand coming to your hair. “Why would you be afraid of me? I’m literally Ada fucking Thorne.” She said as if the statement was obvious and would change everything. You rolled your eyes and smacked your lips, getting another serving of alcohol.

“Just, don’t say a word to Pol. Please, Ada.” Ada compiled by using her two fingers to mimic zipping her lips up, taking a sip of her drink afterwards. You huffed before looking around, furrowing your eyebrows at the sight of Polly being obviously disturbed. 

She made eye contact with you, speeding over to you with fake smiles to everyone else. Ada watched the scene as she did, Polly’s hand immediately placed on your shoulder as she leaned in close to your ear. "Știți de cei care nu sunt pe listă?"

Your breath hitched, discovering something inside of you when she spoke Romani. You didn’t know what it was, well, you did. The way her warm breath fanned your neck and her gravelly accent made you a mess, stammering for such a simple reply.

“N-no.” You denied knowing, trying your absolute best to lie. Ada watched the scene with a snarky grin as she stared in amusement. 

Polly hummed, pulling away from you and squeezing your shoulder. “We’ll see about that.”

A couple of hours passed, and you found yourselves gathered in the dining room, a medley of conversations filling the air. Sitting beside Ada, you listened as she delved into politics with an evident passion, a reassuring sight. However, across the table, the expressions were a mix of disinterest and utter interest at Ada's discourse. You nodded along mindlessly before realising your drink was now empty, “Excuse me for a moment.” You smiled at everyone, glaring at the refugee who sat across from you. No, it was not an invitation for him to follow you, yet he did subtly. You took your glass and made your way to the next room, beginning to pour some whiskey into it.

“I have yet to introduce myself,” The voice made you freeze, cursing to yourself as you turned around. “I-”

“I know who you are, Mr. Kaledin. Very well so.” You cut him off, glaring at him from below. “What do you want from me? I’m not in the mood for flirtatious traps.” 

He was caught off guard, a quiet chuckle left his lips before returning his gaze to you, “You know, where I come from, ladies have manners. Russia. They introduce themselves elegantly.” He reminded you of where he was from, talking to you like you were some sort of moron.

You couldn’t help but laugh, your head jerking to glance at him, “Oh, you’d like to talk of manners, eh? Hm?” You taunted, your glare now as sharp and threatening as a knife. His lips pursed as you began to speak. “Well, if we’re on that topic, I don’t think it’s very mannerly, or appropriate, or fucking smart to crash Thomas’s wedding day, to talk about business. Where I come from, people don’t ruin weddings to talk about fucking business, because it’s fucking human decency. But I guess you Russians lack that bloody simple decency, yes?” Your voice was extremely condescending towards the end. “Elegance currently isn’t my main concern. My main concern is you horrendous bastards ruining Tommy’s special day. Especially you, Mr. Kaledin.”

He studied you as you filled your cup with even more whiskey, licking his lips, “Where are you from?”

“France. Bagnères de Luchon.” You turned around, your back facing him. You observed him through the mirror, smiling to yourself. “You know, there's a certain saying we have in France, Anton. Comme on fait son lit, on se couche…I think you may relate to it later tonight.”

A chuckle elicited from his throat, “And what must that mean?” 

An amused, tiny smile tugged at your lips, swirling the amber liquid in your glass as you turned around to face him. “Comme on fait son lit, on se couche, means, figuratively speaking, you will take the responsibility for your actions, and deal with the consequences. As one makes one's bed, one lies down.” Emphasising each word with your fingers, you could hear how he slightly gulped, a quiet giggle escaping your lips, a faux look of innocence taking over your eyes.

 He stared at you, processing the explanation. You studied him for a bit longer before beginning to step away, laying your hand on his shoulder and whispering ever so softly,, “And you, my friend, have made your bed. And I assure you, Mr. Kaledin, you will be lying in it by the end of this glorious night.”

As you finally stepped away with a now, frustrated yet victorious  demeanour, Ada and Polly were peering at you as you entered the dining room, Kaledin bashfully following from behind. Your dress flowed elegantly behind you as you sat down, Polly leaning back in her chair to watch you and Ada already staring at you. Polly’s glare was cut off by Kaledin trying with her now, which you had tuned out.

“What did you say to the poor man? He was ten times paler than he was before.” Now, Ada had no clue what was happening, nor did you want her to know. You turned to look at her, attempting to muster up some sort of convincing excuse.

“He attempted to flirt with me and I shut it down with..class..and I guess he has never had a woman stand up to him before…yeah.” 

Ada squinted her eyes towards you, her lips in a thin line as she processed the explanation. You gulped down your whiskey, praying to every god that she’d just believe it. Ada hummed, shrugging her shoulders. “So he is making his rounds to Polly?”

You rolled your eyes, groaning. “Don’t even. I can’t handle more stress than I already have. I don’t need to strangle myself with the thought of her dating a man and me having to see it.” 

“Four.” Lizzie whispered as she passed by swiftly, leaving you utterly confused, your mouth open to ask her what she meant, yet she was too quick.. You glanced at Ada for an explanation.

She stammered, not wanting to stress you out more. “Um..four..men are giving Polly the..eye.” She offered her full glass of whiskey to you, pouring some in your glass as you obviously did indeed get more stressed. Your fists clenched and tears burned at your eyes, wanting to just pass out at this point and fall asleep for a week straight in your alluring new bedroom. “It doesn’t mean she’ll fuck them. It’s Polly we’re talking about.”

“How does she notice them but for four years she doesn’t notice me at all? Am I invisible, Ada? Is that what it is? Does she not like me?” Your voice cracked, almost inaudible so Polly wouldn’t hear, no one for that matter. Ada shook her head from left to right.

“She adores you. Stop worrying so much. You’re going to start getting grey hairs.”

“Oh, god no!” You almost shouted, Ada laughing at your reaction as your hands flew to your scalp. “I’m too young!”

Finally, Grace and Tommy strode in, Arthur following from behind. You sighed in relief, muttering to Ada, “Grace let me know they’re trying for a girl..but I didn’t think during their fucking wedding.” Ada put her hand over her mouth, the whole table seeing the two of you like the giggly schoolgirls who were gossiping.

“Thank you all for coming, sorry we are late.” Thomas spoke with a cigarette hanging from his mouth, Grace sat next to him as he stood. “Now, I wanted to give my toast to my..lovely wife..” ….And this is where you took your chance to close your eyes and just have a tiny bit of relaxation, the tiniest bit. It was just the speech to Grace, nothing to miss-

“To the Bride!” 

Jerking up, you immediately grabbed your glass and stood up, muttering the same words. Tommy stared at you as he noticed you were technically sleeping throughout the short speech, rolling his eyes. You sat back down, adjusting your posture and making sure to not fall into another short slumber.

Tommy cleared his throat, looking nervous. “According to..tradition..my best man will say a few words.” And with that sentence, you immediately knew why Tommy was nervous. You were absolutely awake now, waiting to see this. 

“Go on, here he goes! Go on, Arthur!” John cheered, clapping his hands. Arthur gave a shy wave of his hands, and you were already smiling at what was already happening.

“I’d like to..erm..I’m not one for speeches-”

“Sing then!”

“I will later, John.” He murmured, and his stance was as if he was asking his mother for something from the shops and he was excited yet nervous for her response. You took out a cigarette and lit it, blocking the smoke from Ada’s face with your hand. “But, er, I do, er, I do have some words written down here..on this piece of paper. This doesn’t include everything I want to say-”

“Arthur just, just read what we wrote down, eh?” You had to bite down on your lip as you took a sip of your whiskey, making eye contact with Thomas who looked incredibly annoyed. “Come on now.”

“I will, Tom, I will. But uh…first…a few words from..from the heart.” Thomas dropped his head in defeat, Grace comforting him by rubbing his shoulder.

“Oh my god.” You whispered to yourself, Ada pinching your shoulder in response.

Arthur cleared his throat, “Um..this man here, my brother Tommy, help me survive through some of the worst times-” Thomas coughed loudly and you couldn’t contain yourself much longer, covering your mouth.

“It’s a wedding, Arthur, tell a joke.” Michael flatly said, clearly bored.

John agreed, “Yeah, tell a joke!” 

Arthur continued on nonetheless, “What I’m trying to say is that..my brother and the love of a good woman pulled me through that,” He glanced at Linda as she smiled happily at her important mention, making you roll your eyes. “Now, Tommy also, er, has the love of a good woman. Her name is Grace..like the grace of the good lord..and even though, the circumstances of the union was tragic-”

Your laugh released itself, immediately covering your mouth back up as you sunk in your chair, not even caring at everyone looking at you. This was probably the most you had laughed in awhile, Ada giggling a bit with you as well. Tommy took over the..speech..”Let’s raise a toast, eh? To- to love, peace, to marriage.”

“Fan-fantastic job Arthur, you did..it was poetic.” You complimented, trying to reassure the obvious humiliated man. You looked to your right to see Polly leaning back in her chair, glaring at you. That made you giggle even more, mouthing a fake apology.

Arthur walked away, Linda and Thomas following him. Now you could really laugh, literal tears coming to your eyes. “Jesus, Y/n!”

“I’m sorry! That- oh my god! He brought up the union Ada, the union! In a wedding speech! A bloody toast! The union wasn’t tragic, that speech was!” Ada practically spat out her drink, covering her mouth as well now too. 

“Stop. Stop. Oh my god.” Ada choked, taking a deep breath. You giggled one last time, saying a prayer under your breath so you wouldn’t go to hell for bloody…you didn’t even know.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“I thought I did good.”

“Oh, you-” You didn’t want to lie to the man, sighing. “Arthur, you know Tommy isn’t all sentimental like that. It would’ve been fantastic if it were for Ada or Curly. And, Art, I love you so fucking much, but why did you bring up the union? What- what reason?”

He grumbled, “Linda said confronting our souls with the tragedies in our past set us for eternal peace with ourselves..thought that’d help Tommy.” He looked down shamefully, and you were trying again not to giggle. “I thought speaking from the heart would bring- bring some peace to this night, hmm?”

Taking a deep breath, you sadly smiled at him, nodding. “I know. I know. Linda is uh, really..influential, hm?”

“Yes. But it’s for the better.” He stared at the his hands and you laid your hand on his cheek, turning his gaze to you.

“You had good intentions, Art. I’m proud of you for trying.”

“Thank you.” He shyly appreciated it, smiling. “Now, you go have fun. I’ll be outside.”

“I’ll try.”

With one last smile, you walked out of the hallway and into the bustling party, looking for anyone you clearly knew. You picked up another glass of alcohol, saying a prayer to your liver before taking a sip of it.

After a few minutes of looking, you felt your heart slightly drop at the sight of, as you assumed, one of the men that was eyeing her up, and Polly talking. Jealousy consumed you quicker than ever, feeling rage to yourself. To the stupid man. Tears brimmed at your eyes at how bad the envious feeling was, and you couldn’t help but stare in absolute despair, watching her be so happy with someone else. You wanted to almost die at that moment, your brain going at lightning speed to the worst conclusions that he would replace you instantly or any hope you had left would vanish.

“Can I talk to you?” A gruff voice alerted you, “Privately.”

A sigh left your lips when you heard Thomas. “If you don’t wound me, yes.” You replied back snarky, taking a small sip of your champagne. He murmured an agreement, turning your head to look at him and nodding your head. 

Thomas led you into a secluded hallway, leaning against the wall opposite of you and pulling out two cigarettes. He handed you one, putting his lighter in between the two of you so you could light each of your own. He sucked in a breath before speaking, the smoke fading into the air. “Mr. Kaledin is a red.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, your eyes squinting in utter confusion. “I thought we were paying the Whites?”

“Exactly. Anton, is most likely not Anton. Mr. Kaledin, who was supposed to be given the money, has most likely been killed by the Soviet government, and now their spy is pretending to be him for the cash.” He said frustratingly, leaning his head against the wall. “He told me that Duchess Tatiana Petronova will be bringing us the ten thousand U.S dollars, in crisp cash. Supposed to be from Mr. Churchill.”

“Tatiana?” You questioned. “..The niece of Duke Leon Petrovich Romanov?”

“Bingo.” He replied flatly, unenthusiastically snapping his fingers. “Including him, and his wife, Izabella.”

“Oh, how gracious.” You took a drag of your cigarette, “Did they have to leave Russia because of Stalin?”

“Yes.” He said, almost proud of you which was odd. “They’re here..to gain power. The Bolshevik’s, the Reds, have much more. They need weapons. And the new power trip the Bolshevik government has is the Red Terror.” Thomas emphasised the name with his eyes widening, his tone a little louder. “So, the Whites needed to evacuate immediately, which is why the Royals have made their way into safe haven London. Away from any communists who threaten them and their safety.” 

“So the Aristocrats need weapons to fight the reds,” You glanced at Tommy, “And Mr. Churchill is helping..us? Fight the Reds?” He hummed, studying you. “And Mr. Kaledin is part of the communist Bolsheviks?” He hummed again. “So basically, death for him. Tatiana gives us the money forwarded from Churchill. And now we are involved with the aftermath of the Russian Revolution.”

“Atta girl.” He gave you a fake smile. “With the cash we receive tonight, as I’ve told you-”

“You’re purchasing the wharves at the Boston wharfs for more business.”

He nodded, “If this all goes smoothly. I’ve told Grace, she didn’t react too badly.”

“Ah, I’m so happy for you.” You sarcastically stated, folding your arms across your chest. “Tommy, is there anything else or can I go enjoy myself a while longer?”

A long pause happened between the both of you before he nodded, “Yes. Just make sure no trouble happens, yeah?”

“Mhm.” You began to walk away, smoking the last of your cigarette. “All my luck, Tommy.”

Now, finally walking away, you sighed in relief. Not too much relief, since you knew murder and fights were going on currently and this was supposed to be a peaceful day, but some. 

You sat down on a nearby loveseat, the fire behind you sending a delightful chill up your spine as a sense of warmth took over your body. You stared at the ground, not in too much of a mood to go socialise with others, nor did you want to stand up again and walk for no reason with how sore you already were. Your free hand smoothed over your satin dress, the other holding the burnt out cigarette. You felt lost on what to do in that moment, drained over Polly and what was going on around you.

Familiar footsteps had raised your awareness as they became louder and louder the close they got. Still, you didn’t look up from the floor until you recognised the two heels that came into your vision, feeling the space next to you dip as they sat down. You gulped, feeling their tense aura immediately.

“You’ve barely spoken to me, you know.”

Polly was trying to get her mind off the whole situation and put it on another one. You. She watched your nervous demeanour as you looked up with wide eyes, as if you were clueless to what she was speaking of.

“Pardon?”

“This whole day, you’ve barely said a word to me. I’ve caught you staring, but you haven’t spoken to me.” Now your cheeks turned slightly red, heart dropping at her words. 

You cleared your throat, fiddling with your fingers. “I really didn’t think you’d even notice me with all these men.” You mumbled extremely quietly, to the point where even Polly could barely hear you. She did, studying you, her eyebrow raising at your disappointed tone and frown, and the way you couldn’t even look her way. 

Polly took a drag of her cigarette, leaning back and using her arm as a support. “Are you..jealous?”

Now, your heart really dropped. You looked at her quickly, stammering for an answer that wasn’t the truth. “Um, no. N-not at all. I just..uh..didn’t want to distract you from all the..handsome men..that were eyeing you.” When you said handsome, you felt a pang in your heart while saying it. You literally winced. 

“You’re jealous.”

“Polly. Why would I be jealous?”

“That’s my exact wonder.” she retorted, her tone carrying a hint of allurement. “‘Why would sweet, precious Y/n be jealous that I’m being eyed up?’ has been my wonder this whole evening. I can see it in your pretty eyes, sweetheart. I’m not blind.” She watched as your face get redder and redder, a satisfied smirk tugging at her scarlet lips. Her hand laid on your knee as she leaned in, “No one can lie to me, sweet girl.”

“Stop it, Polly.” You murmured, looking to the other side now, trying to cool down your fluster. “I’m not- I wasn’t- I was never jealous.”

Polly hummed, “Look me in the eye and say it.”

“Why are you so intrigued with me being jealous, Pol?” You asked mindlessly, hearing her click her tongue made you cross your legs automatically, realising what you had just said.

Polly smiled, “So the sweet girl is jealous?”

“Don’t you have like..a bunch of men to go and talk to?” You grumbled, embarrassed. Polly laughed, using her hand to make you look at her by placing it on your cheek, turning your head slightly forcefully.

“The only person I want to talk to is you.” Her smile had faltered, replaced by a solemn expression that caught your immediate attention. Gazing at Polly through weary eyes, your lips involuntarily parted as you let out a quiet sigh. You were lost at what to say, knowing nothing of what you felt was right or appropriate. You didn’t know if Polly was just trying to get it out of you with the flirtatious act, or play with your feelings. You didn’t know anything really when it came to her, all logic and standards flying out the window while in her beloved presence. She could see the hesitation and almost dread as you thought.

“I really don’t see why, Polly.” you managed, the words stumbling from your lips.

She paused, a frown gracing her features. 

Quietly observing you, she finally murmured, "What must I do to help you see why, Y/n?"

The mental anguish nearly prompted a whimper, the answer eluding you in its complexity. Succumbing to defeat, you gazed at her with vulnerable eyes.

Abruptly, a man appeared before you both, clearing his throat and offering a smile. Meeting his gaze, you reciprocate the gesture, while Polly's demeanour remains fixed in an unamused glare.

"It appears the two of you are unaccompanied... Would either of you care for a dance? Perhaps at the same time?" His wink was accompanied by an unsettling grin that made you cringe. You recognised the implication extended beyond mere dancing. "I must say, I am quite the cha-”

“We’re not interested.” Polly cut him off with an annoyed tone. “Please be kind enough to step away, as we were having a conversation.” Polly didn’t sound too kind, her glare even scaring you a bit. It was the exact one she gave the boy in the church, almost degrading. 

He scoffed, “I think the pretty one over here can answer the question for herself. Don’t you wanna dance with a man like me? You don’t need any woman sayin’ no for you, you know that.” 

A sense of fear hazed your eyes, stuttering for an answer. “It’s a no for me, I’m-”

“Now you’re just saying that for her. Come on, just one dance, princess.” He didn’t stop his offerings, so forceful that it made you want to run away. Your eyes hazed with fear as you looked over at Polly desperately for help, for which she complied. She laid her hand on your knee, clearing her throat with a devilish smile.

“Listen to me,” She began, “If you don’t leave in a matter of three seconds, I will be sure to have you cut. The Shelby men are busy enough, but I’m sure they wouldn’t mind dealing with another man whore.”

The man gulped, his eyes wide. He didn’t say another word, backing away immediately and losing himself into the crowds. A melodious chuckle danced in Polly's breath, “And there he goes.”

“Thank you.” You murmured in a relieved breath. “I’m sorry for needing your help.”

“Don’t be.” Polly lit another cigarette for herself. “We women stick together. I’ll never let you get taken advantage of, Y/n. I swear.”

You smiled sadly, cocking your head to the side. “You never swear.” 

Polly glanced up at you, smoke leaving her scarlet lips. “I do now.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Oh, it’s so clear. She loves you.”

“Shut up, Ada. It can’t be. Don’t bloody enable me.” 

Hours later, you were in your bedroom again but now in comfortable clothing. You sat on your bed and Ada sat across from you, and Charlie was sleeping peacefully next to you, snug and clung to your waist.

The talk of Polly and you had come up again somehow and you had brought up the last conversation you had with Polly, and now you were here. In bed as Ada enabled the delusion of Polly ever possibly being in love with you. 

“Y/n, I have known my aunt Polly my whole life, and by what you’re telling me, she most definitely loves you.” She shoved a chocolate in her mouth, “You have to tell me what queer sex is like.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ, Ada!” You burned up and put your face in your hands, hearing Ada giggle. “Ada she- my god, I haven’t even thought about us being together, let alone fucking.” You looked back up at her, “She probably isn’t even attracted to me.”

Ada chewed the chocolate fully, “You’re absolutely gorgeous. You know what’s surprised me all these years?”

“Hm?”

“How Tommy hasn’t begged or tried to fuck you. I mean, look at you! He goes for a betrayer but not the one who saved his bloody life?!” Ada being fascinated with your sex life was one of the many firsts. And now she was talking of her brother in this, which had fascinated you even more. “Speaking of, have you even had sex?”

“How many drinks did you have again?” You countered, taking a chocolate and biting into it. She tilted her head, making you roll your eyes and sigh heavily. “No..it’s pathetic, I know.”

Ada shrugged, “It’s okay, Polly has lots of experience. She won’t mind being your first.” The casual statement made you groan, shaking your head from side to side.

“Ada, she-”

“Listen to me.” Ada’s voice turned firm, causing you to immediately fall silent. “I know my aunt better than bloody you, and I know that look in her eyes when she looks at you. I saw you two on that loveseat tonight, and the way she looks at you. It’s so full of…love, and adoration. I’ve never seen her more intrigued with someone except you. And, Polly isn’t blind. If I can see how flustered you get when she’s here, she most definitely can too.”

Your gaze lowered to the blankets, and you began to utter a response. "But what about all those other men?"

"They pale in comparison to you, Y/n. You're a bloody Peaky Blinder. No man can hold a candle to you." A radiant smile graced your lips as she spoke, instilling a renewed sense of self-assurance within you. She paused, her hand finding yours, offering a reassuring squeeze while flashing a supportive smile. "You'll find your way through this." She glanced sideways. "And if I'm proven right, I expect five quid."

"You Shelby lot, always so bloody confident."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Right..this..might be slightly uncomfortable.” 

The next morning found you wide awake and alert, as you received the call to discreetly transfer the previous night's earnings to the secure vault in the betting shop. Little did you realise how early it was, which left you drained and fatigued. You found yourself leaning against your dresser, on the brink of exhaustion, while Polly carefully dressed you with wads of cash, stuffing it in every crevice and secure place. You wished you were being stuffed some other w-

"You know, four years back, I could never have imagined standing here, getting dressed with three thousand United States dollars," Polly mused with a chuckle, slipping yet another bundle of cash into the belt cinched around your waist. "From nurse to gangster..a remarkable character development, eh?"

Polly hummed, her tone reflecting her amusement. "It's a drastic change. Yet, I'm truly glad to have you here with us. It's hard to picture it any other way." Handing you three stacks of bills, she added, "Now, be a good girl for me and put those into your garters." She paused, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she looked up at you after a beat, her fingers teasingly tracing up your leg. "Unless, of course, you'd prefer me to take care of that?"

The way your breath hitched and your eyes grew wider made Polly’s smirk grow, an ache between your thighs forming at the bold offer or..flirt. This had to be more than flirting. Her eyes stared into yours as you stammered for an answer, making it clear you had never really been flirted with.

“I’m, I- I can do it myself, t-thank you.” You took the cash from her and hiked your dress all the way up to your upper thigh, putting the cash in and dropping the fabric down. Polly chuckled before continuing to put the cash on you, watching as you finally began to compose yourself. 

Polly finally finished, the cash she was carrying already under her light blue trench coat. You both chatted some more before separating, you going to Arthur and Polly going to Tommy.

“Morning, darling.” You greeted, getting into the car.

"Morning," Arthur grumbled, his eyes following as you somewhat awkwardly manoeuvred yourself into the car, the money sticking to you and making the entry a bit more challenging than usual. His foul mood was palpable, casting a shadow that was hard to ignore.

Once he began driving, conversation flowed from your lips. "So, how did things go last night, Arthur?"

For a minute or two, he kept his silence, his gaze locked onto the road ahead. You patiently awaited his response, your gaze fixed on him. With a deep inhale, he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "He's dead."

"I figured as much," you responded thoughtfully. "But how are you, Art? That's what I really want to know."

Again, Arthur fell into a contemplative pause, his emotions seeming to wrestle within him. Your heart ached at the sight of his obvious grief. He sighed heavily, words escaping his lips laden with vulnerability. "I... I don't feel right," he mumbled, his voice cracking. "He..he kept pleading 'for the love of God' in his final seconds, and I... I feel like I've lost the love of... God." He continued, his voice trembling, "If Linda found out, she'd probably hate me."

“Hold on," you interjected, raising a finger. "He said 'For the love of God'?"

"Twice," Arthur winced, his grip on the steering wheel betraying the emotional torment he was grappling with. "All for the sake of business..."

You didn't intend to exacerbate the situation, but Arthur's incredulous expression prompted you to speak. His gaze shifted to you as he sensed your unease. With a tense posture, you sat upright, your eyes darting around, and your hand hovering near your mouth. "What's the bloody matter?" he asked, concerned.

"It's nothing," you assured him.

"Golden, I swear to fuck, if you don’t bloody tell me-," he pressed, his gaze on the road.

"Just promise you won't get angry," you asserted, your attention remaining fixed on the road ahead. He agreed with a nod and extended his hand for a reassuring shake. You obliged, your reluctance to meet his eyes evident. You stuttered, "Um... the Bolsheviks, the Reds... they don't... believe in God." A few seconds of silence hung in the air. "And I'm not sure if Mr. Kaledin would maintain that act in his final moments."

Arthur's breathing grew heavy, and you found yourself instinctively drawing closer to the car door. "You can't get angry, Arthur! You shook on it!”

He cleared his throat, “Thank you for telling me.”

The calm appreciation wasn’t normal. You stared at him, still hugging the car door. “Golden, I really hope you fuckin’ know I’d never hurt ya’, right?”

“Um.” You said, “Yeah..yeah.” 

“None of us Shelby men would ever dare to hit ya’, and if one of them did, they’d have to deal with me.” He tapped your knee awkwardly. “And if they ain’t a Shelby, they’re dead.”

You laughed, touching the sides of your neck to see if bruises formed. They indeed did, making you wince when you even lightly touched them.

An hour later and you were back in Small Heath in front of the betting shop. You got yourself out of the car and made your way into the shop, greeting various men and shaking various hands as you tried to rush to the back as fast as you could. There, you met Polly and Thomas, and they both looked at you.

“Hi,” You softly greeted, untying your coat as you stepped into the vault. You silently started taking money out from your belt, stacking them along with the other wads of cash. “I think this was the most expensive outfit I’ve ever worn.”

“Yup.” Thomas said with a cigarette in his mouth, “I have to go to London. If you need a ride back to Warwickshire, let Arthur know.” Thomas left the vault with a nod, leaving you and Polly alone.

“I gotta tell you something when you get back. Or Arthur will let you know.” You shouted when he was on his way out, continuing putting the cash away with a shrug. He mumbled something you could barely understand in response.

“And that is?” Polly questioned, fixing her gloves.

“Nothing for you to worry of.” You quipped back, humming to yourself as you put the cash away safely.

Polly scoffed, glaring at you. You could practically feel the glare burning through you. “I have the fucking senior position in this company. I have kept this fucking business and gang alive. I’m the one who has been here much, much longer than you, sweetheart.” She stated in a gravelly voice condescendingly. You ignored her gaze, knowing superiority wasn’t your goal here. “Look at me.”

You sighed and looked at her, she smiled, leaning in while not breaking eye contact. “No one gets to refuse to tell me something. Not even you.” She whispered, “So, if I were you, darling, I’d tell me what you’re up to before I get it out of you myself.”

“It’s nothing serious, Pol-”

“I’ll give you three seconds before I do something you won’t enjoy.”

Oh.

You remained frozen, like a startled deer, when faced with the threat, choosing not to challenge her. "It seems, from the info I have gathered,  Arthur might have killed a Russian refugee instead of a Bolshevik, as we initially believed," you conceded.

Polly stared at you for a moment with a satisfied smile, clicking her tongue as she looked you up and down. “How’d you find that out?”

“Arthur spoke to me," you explained, your accent subtly surfacing. "He mentioned Anton uttering 'For the Love of God' in his final moments… Bolsheviks reject the concept of God and dismiss all religions as rubbish. They subject priests and religious followers to torture, aiming to crush any hope of salvation from the revolution. It's truly harrowing," you sighed, "but that's the Bolshevik modus operandi. Frankly, I don't believe the man from last night adhered to their ideology."

Polly processed your words as you spoke effortlessly while continuing to count the money. She drew in a breath and complimented, "You're quite clever,  you know?"

You chuckled softly, "Just fulfilling my role, Pol. Some of it's common knowledge too." You met her gaze and added, "But I appreciate your kind words."

"Understood," she murmured as you stored the final stack of cash, observing as you clapped your hands and fastened your trench coat. "Where will you be heading after this?"

"Probably back home... why do you ask?"

"No particular reason," Polly replied with a hint of amusement, playfully beginning to close the vault. You hurried out of the room, rolling your eyes at her antics before making your exit through the betting shop's door.

[mythica0]

Hypocrite

🎂: Fop; a new wish

🧁: Peri

🍫: Dev

Summary: Peri gets a lee mood, but is too embarrassed to ask.

A/N: thank you to the anon who came up with this idea, I would tag you but Y’know- anonymous. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE. anyway ENJOOOYYYYY :3

Hypocrite

Peri woke up and immediately regretted it. He had a lee mood. Of course he did. They were the bane of his existence.

He didn’t get lee moods often. He was more into doing the tickling, himself. But they do show up, and today one decided to pop in for a visit.

As soon as he opened his eyes he felt that fluttery sensation all over his body, the tell-tale sign of a lee mood.

And there was no way in fairy world he was asking. Not happening. He’d just sit it out and pretend it didn’t exist. That sounded like a plan.

Later that day, Dev noticed that Peri was acting off. He was jumpy, Everytime someone touched him he jumped out of his skin. He often seemed to be staring off into space, and when he would be pulled out of it he was very flustered.

It took a while, but eventually Dev put two and two together. His fairy godfather had a lee mood, and was trying to hide it.

“Hey Peri.”

Peri startled out of his thoughts. “Hmm?”

“You’re in a lee mood, right?”

The fairy blushed at the casual tone, ‘was I really that obvious??’

“Uh- whaaattt? Noooo.”

“Liar. Yes you are, I can see it. You’ve been acting funny all day.”

At the silence, he continued. “So why haven’t you asked me yet~ hmm?”

“I am not asking. Not happening.”

“Hypocrite, much? You made me ask a little while ago.”

“Nope. Not happening. I’d rather just suffer.”

“Oh, c’mon you’re being dramatic. All you gotta do is say three little words; ‘please tickle me’. Heck, you don’t even have to say the word if you don’t want to, you can substitute it for something.”

“Nope. Nuh-uh.” Peri was adamant, but Dev was stubborn.

“Fine then. Let me give you a little… encouragement.” Right as he said that, he pulled Peri down from his floating position and straddled him.

Peri looked confused, excited and panicked all at once. Then, Dev began to tease.

Not verbally, no. It was much worse. He was hovering his hands over Peri, wiggling his fingers teasingly.

Peri tried not to, he really did, but he still let out some giggles. He was weak to anticipation, especially when he was already in a lee mood.

“Ohh my goood stooop.” He whined, covering his face.

“Nope!” He proclaimed, popping the p. “I’ll stop once you ask. Then I’ll actually start tickling you.”

This was torture. Peri was being kept in a state of anticipation, not allowed to get up, but nit being reduced to a puddle of laughter like he wanted. It was killing him, and he was starting to really think about asking so the kid would just get on with it already! But he couldn’t, it was too embarrassing, especially to someone that he had tickled so many times before.

But eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore, and blurted out as if ripping off a bandaid. “Pleasetickleme!” He flushed bright red just from saying the words, which was not helped by Dev’s response.

“There you go~ that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Peri whined. “Yes it was!”

“Oh well. Anyway, where were we~” he brushed off Peri’s complaint, and then he finally started to poke at Peri’s sides, causing his giggles of anticipation to come out full force, no longer trapped.

“Tickle tickle, Protect~.” Dev lilted, resulting in an even darker blush from the fairy. “Does that feel nice~ is it exactly what you were hoping for~?”

Peri covered his face again, “shuhuhut uhuuhupp!” He groaned through his giggles.

“No way, Piccolo! Now, can you uncover your face for me so I can see the smile I’m working so hard to produce~”

“Nuhuhuh-uhuhuh!”

“Okay then. Guess I have no choice.” He spoke casually, before starting to scribble in Peri’s armpits. Peri stubbornly kept his hands on his face.

“Oh~ a little bit stubborn, are we? Guess you must really want me to tickle here, huh~ leaving it so open.”

“Dehehehev cuhuhut ihihit ohohohout!”

“You don’t mean that~.”

“Oho myhy gohohoodnehehess, Stohohop!”

“Stop what? Teasing or tickling? Cause I’m afraid I can’t do either of those things. Not until you say red, at least.”

Peri was flustered to all hell. “Hohohow ahahare yohou soho gohood ahat thihis!”

Dev smirked “you learn what works well when you’re on the other end.” He chuckled lightly.

“Wehell yohou’re beheheing Mehehean!”

Dev gasped in fake offense. “Mean? Me? That was awful rude! I think I’ll have to punish you for that..” after he spoke, he leaned down and nibbled lightly on Peri’s tummy.

“Crahahahahap, nohohoho!” His hands finally moved from his face to try and fend off the attack.

“There we are! Now I can see your smiling face!” He continued to torment Peri’s tummy with tickles, never letting up.

Peri was giddy with the feeling, fluttering his wings and curling up around himself as best he could with a kid on his lap. It tickled so much he couldn’t stand it, but at the same time he didn’t want it to stop.

“Awww whats’a matter? Does it tickle too much for you?”

“Stohohop tahalking!”

“Whyyy? Is it making it worse? Do my words make the tickles feel worse, hmm?”

“Yehehehes!”

“Oh, good!” Dev increased the intensity that he was using, raising Peri’s volume.

“Dehehehev thahat tihihickles soho bahahad!”

“That’s the point, Polygon! I’m tickling you!”

Peri just whined in response. “Ihihim gohonnaha dihihie!”

“That’s a little dramatic, don’t ya think? If you were truly worried you’d say red~”

Peri didn’t know how to respond, he just laughed and laughed without stopping, until eventually he actually felt like he was going to die, and shouted out a “Red!” Between loud bouts of laughter.

Dev stopped immediately, and hopped off his godfather, allowing him to sit up and rub away the phantom tickles.

“Wohow. Yohou are surprisingly good at that. Too good.”

Dev shrugged. “What can I say, I’m the best.”

Peri rolled his eyes at the comment. “Don’t be a brat.”

“Why not?”

“Because then It’ll be my turn.” Dev snapped his mouth shut at that, before speaking again. “Don’t be afraid to ask, Kay? I don’t mind, in fact it’s a wonderful excuse to tickle you to pieces.”

Peri flushed again. “Ohhh my gooood.”

Dev laughed at the reaction.

The two had a wonderful end to the day, and Peri had very good dreams. Maybe lee moods weren’t so bad after all.

———THE END————————————————

[mykneeshurt]

Infiltration - Chapter 2

Keegan x F!reader - call sign is Nox

Enemies to lovers / established relationship (kinda)

Warnings - 18+, graphic descriptions of violence, torture, taunting, reader is not a good person

———-

‘Ajax. Long time no see.’

He remained still in the chair, not even acknowledging your presence. Instead choosing to look straight on, through you. ‘You know it’s rude to ignore your host. It’s not very becoming of you Ajax.’ You pursed your lips as you sat on the edge of a table in front of him. ‘It’s just as rude to sneak around places that don’t belong to you.’ You rubbed a small piece of lint off your leg.

Silence.

‘Don’t make me do all the talking now Ajax. Believe it or not I do get bored of my own voice, and I have some questions I’d like you to answer.’

Silence.

You rolled you eyes, Ghosts are conditioned, trained not to give anything away. To never break under pressure, to never talk, they’d happily die for their cause. A trait you were more than willing to exploit. Even if he didn’t give you what you wanted, killing a Ghost? Now that would be fun indeed. So fun in fact you were going to take your time.

‘Because I’m so nice, I’m not going to hurt you, yet. Now, I’ll give you a few chances to answer me. Can’t have everyone thinking I’m a heartless bitch now can I?’ You smiled, knowing full well you were going to hurt him, and you were going to enjoy it.

He remained still. Focus still dead ahead on the grime covered wall of the dingy room. ‘So, let’s start out easy. Who’s with you on this mission?’ Nothing. ‘I know Keegans here, he’d never pass up an opportunity to get to me. Seeing as he let me slip the last time.’ Ajax shot his gaze towards you, that got his attention. ‘Didn’t you know?’ You smiled, extending your hand out in front of your to check your nails.

‘The last time you had me in your sights, he let me go. He could have killed me. Ended it. But he didn’t. Keegan doesn’t miss. But he did that day.’ You stood and showed him your scar. His dropped his eyes momentarily, trying not to get sucked in by your story. ‘Now why would he do that? Why would Sargent Russ choose to miss me? Have a think.’ You tapped the side of your head.

‘Where are they?’ Your voice was firm but calm.

‘I ain’t tellin you shit’ he spat through gritted teeth. Feigning shock you placed your hand over your chest, ‘good lord, he speaks. Nice to see your tongue does work. Maybe I’ll cut it out later, I don’t like liars. Just ask Shae. Oh wait … you can’t.’ You narrowed your eyes, smirking softly. ‘What did you do?’ He asked, becoming tense in the chair.

‘I didn’t do anything. I just got rid of rotten goods, you know, when something rotten is placed by something fresh the rot spreads. Like a virus. I can’t be having that.’ You tutted as you shook your head. ‘Just tell me what I want to know and maybe I’ll let you go.’ A lie. Some would call you a hypocrite, not that you gave a shit. ‘Where is she?’ He asked, his eyes now focusing on yours.

‘Honeslty?’ You shrugged ‘I don’t know, could be in one piece, two pieces, a hundred. And I don’t really care.’ You were getting bored, very quickly. Pulling the radio off his chest you pressed the button. ‘Keeeeegan’ you mocked, ‘I believe you’re missing someone. Have you done a head count recently?’ Looking at Ajax you rolled your eyes, ‘talkative bunch you are, aren’t you?’

‘Keegan, I know you’re listening. So listen very carefully. I have Ajax.’ The radio remained silent. ‘Wow some friends you have there’ you laughed. ‘Ok Keegan. If you don’t want to talk then listen …’ pulling out your knife you drove it straight into Ajax’s thigh, through to the metal the other side. Ajax screamed, a gut wrenching scream as his muscles were severed. Blood began to pour from the wound, dripping down his leg.

Pulling the knife back out you ran your eyes up and down the blade, watching as the blood collected at the tip before falling to the floor. Your thumb still on the button you taunted him again, ‘Keegan look at what you made me do. He’s getting blood all over my floor. He’s such a messy boy, aren’t you Ajax?’ He was hissing through his teeth, trying to regulate his breathing, trying to remain calm.

Releasing the button you waited for a reply, to no avail. Either they didn’t give a shit, their radio was turned off or they were listening praying for Ajax not to break. Either way, you were having fun. ‘Just rude if you ask me’ you said bluntly, shaking your head at Ajax. Without warning you drove your knife into his other thigh, the ding of metal rang out as the knife hit the chair yet again. The noise that came from Ajax could only be described as heroin to you.

Having incapacitated Ajax you pulled the table closer to him, this time you sat on the edge and rested your feet either side of his bleeding thighs. ‘Where are they Ajax? It’s a simple question.’ He shrugged. Chewing the inside of your cheek you shrugged back, challenging his answer. ‘You’re no fun’ you pouted.

In one smooth motion you kicked Ajax in the chest, sending him falling backwards, gasping for breath. You radioed again ‘Keegan, seriously.’ You held the radio close to Ajax’s throat, his raspy breaths echoing into the microphone. ‘I mean I’m just warming up over here. You’re being quite selfish I think Russ.’

You sank yourself down on Ajax’s abdomen, trapping his arms underneath your weight. ‘You always were handsome Ajax, I’ll give you that. I thought you were smarter too, but obviously not. Where are they?’ He flinched beneath you, trying to move his arms. You gripped his cheeks, ‘calm yourself, you’ll only bleed out quicker if you fight.’ You could feel the warm blood from his thighs seep into your top as his legs rested on your back.

‘Claude!’ You yelled, stroking Ajax’s face ‘hold this for me? They don’t want to answer so they can listen to their beloved Ghost die instead.’ Claude took the radio and held his finger on the button. Panic started to seep into Ajax’s eyes as he searched your face for mercy. He didn’t find any. Mercy wasn’t a feeling you knew, you always got what you wanted, no matter the method.

‘I’m going to enjoy breaking you Ajax.’

You started with your fists, knuckle met bone with repetitive blows to his face. The slap of skin on skin reverberated around the room, as you collided with his face time after time. He remained strong, honestly? It was impressive. ‘You look sad. I think I know how to fix that.’ You took your blade at sliced at the corners of his mouth, carving a permanent smile on his face. Sighing you took in your handiwork ‘much better.’

His screams and guttural moans of pain filled the room, filled your lungs as you inhaled them. This carried on for quite a while but eventually you finally got bored. Grabbing the radio back from Claude you reached out to Keegan once again. ‘I’m done Keegan. Im bored. You can have him back. Don’t spend too long in the abandoned mill behind the compound now will you?’

With what little energy he had left Ajax lifted his head in disbelief. You knew? This whole time? Shrugging you turned to face him ‘what? Did you honestly think I didn’t know? I knew you were here the minute Shae turned on me, had her trailed and viola. There you were.’

‘You’re a fuckin bitch Nox’ he spat, barely able to speak.

‘Oh thank you’ you mocked, feigning a happy tear. Bending down you placed a kiss on his temple ‘good bye Ajax.’ Pulling the trigger you made sure they heard it on the other end of the radio. Looking at Claude you motioned to Ajax, ‘dump him where you found him. I’ll at least let him be buried like a Ghost, even if he didn’t die like one.’

The radio crackled to life ‘Nox?’ Keegans voice finally hummed through the speaker. Your eyes twinkled at the sound of his gruff voice. He worried you, but you were ready for him, ready to address your history together.

‘Keegan.’

‘I’m coming for you .’

————

Part 3

A/N - I had to pull back from the torture scene so much lmfao I could have gone into more detail there but wasn’t sure it if was appropriate 😂 I love me unhinged fictional women

Taglist - @sashadiurnal @bubble-dream-inc @polishcodfan @shyerue @ave661 @taurus-ted (our boy is gonna go afffff)

[kaveuh]

hello ei!!! can i request kohaku and niki making sweets with their s/o? take your time with the request have a good day ^^

"IT'S TOO SWEET!"

kohaku oukawa & niki shiina (separate)

warning(s) — none, besides swearing if you count that eye gee

author’s note — i'm back lets gaur 🔥 not completely since this was from a draft i already finished but it’s okay LMAO. also i apologize if it’s a bit shorter than expected. but i did have fun writing for this they’re so silly

KOHAKU OUKAWA !!

Kohaku adores Japanese sweets, so it’s not unexpected for him to be willing to make some with you. He's honestly just happy to be there and is following your instructions. He doesn't know how to cook (considering he doesn't even know how to write), but overall he is a quick learner so it isn't much of a problem.

"Kohaku, could you do this?" "Kohaku, could you take care of this?" — anything you ask him to do, he'll try his best. Kohaku doesn't mind if you boss him around, especially when it comes to making his favourite sweets.

Honestly, it'll probably turn out a little bit too sweet LMAO, not that you’d mind. If it’s for Kohaku, your adorable boyfriend, you’d eat whatever he makes. Even if it tastes like if Niki suddenly turned into Ikin. (Sorry...)

“How is it? Is it good?” He’d nervously ask. How could you not say no to him? Kohaku looked at you with such... innocence and curiosity and it made you want to squish him. “If it tastes bad, I’ll remake it for you... and do better.” He added. 

NO! “N-No! It’s amazing, Kohaku! I’d like to have seconds, please~!” You tried to brush off the extra sweetness and raised your hand for exaggeration. Of course, Kohaku isn’t convinced and gives you a pout in return.

“You liar. I know it’s too sweet.”

NIKI SHIINA !!

Now, Niki is someone who you’d have a fun time working in the kitchen with. Though, he does boss you around alot… not that you're complaining since the food ends up tasting like absolute banger after it's finished.

"[Name], it's not done! Stop eating them!" Then he proceeds to do the same. Little hypocrite. Unlike Kohaku, Niki's more experienced, so it’s no surprise for the sweets to turn out just perfect.

"Make sure to leave some for the others." "Niki, you made these for us. The others can make some themselves!" "Oh. Yeah, you're right. Eat well, my love!"

Overall 100% HE'S SO MALEWIFE :3 But seriously, he'll make the most banger ass desserts ever, you'll never have to buy some ever again. Just convince Niki and he'll make you an unlimited amount. (Remember to help him clean, though.)

Also, he's definitely starting small and random food fights in the process. Such as smudging chocolate on your face and all that LOL.

[skymaiden32]

Safety Measures

Read on AO3 here

Fandom: Thunderbirds

Tagging: @dragonoffantasyandreality @thundergeek59 @janetm74 @katblu42 @liseylou @amistrio @uniwolfcorn @idontknowreallywhy (Please ask if you would like to get alerts when I update or post new stories.)

Thundertober Day 18: Safety

Some rules are made to be broken.

Continuity: TAG

------

“Are you joking?!” Gordon winced when he heard Virgil yell at the hologram in front of them, hovering above Thunderbird 2’s dashboard. “Please tell me you’re joking…” The man in the image tried his best to look apologetic, but after years of learning how to read others, the two Tracy’s could tell he wasn’t.

“This is no joke, Mr Tracy. It’s health and safety.” The idiot stated. “According to the official handbook, no non-staff members are allowed to access the master control panel. If we let just anyone use those controls, it could result in disaster.”

Virgil grumbled, uncharacteristically folding his arms in front of him and slumping back in his seat with a huff. This back and forth was eerily similar to the whole atmospheric cleaner debacle not too long ago. Honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if the official he was currently speaking with was the same guy and had moved companies. But alas, that was not the case.

Gordon frowned at the man, standing up and making his way over so he was eye level with the hologram. It was lucky he was in front of them as a hologram; if he were truly face to face with them he probably would’ve had a black eye. “Well, can’t you make an exception just this once? There are people in that factory who could die if we can’t access those controls!” The idiot began to open his mouth, and Gordon quickly silenced him. “And before you ask if there’s another way, there isn’t.” He put it bluntly, hoping to get the situation into this guy's thick skull. “Our team has run through every possible solution we can think of in various simulators, and nothing works. They all result in the building collapsing. Or worse.”

Sensing his brother’s increasing frustration, Virgil took over the conversation again. “The master controls are the only way. Please, we don’t have much time left to save your workers.”

“As much as I’d like to help…” Liar. “I’m just doing my job. Which is to uphold our company's code of health and safety to the highest degree.”

“Well, so are we.” Gordon snapped. “Would you seriously risk your employees' lives just because a rescue team wants to access your system to save them?” He practically hissed. “A little hypocritical, don’t you think?” The officer rose an eyebrow, as if genuinely puzzled. Virgil looked at his brother in shock. Gordon ignored them both. “You preach about wanting to protect your team from danger, but you fail to realise that the most dangerous thing you can do is not let us help them. They’ll be waiting for us to come to their rescue, probably scared out of their wits, but help will never come for them. All because you have your head buried in the sand.” He shook his head, and laughed without humour. “Don’t you see? International Rescue is the only thing standing between those men and women down there, and an untimely death. If you don’t let us in, believe me, we’ll find our own way in. It’s your choice…”

An uneasy silence followed. Virgil and Gordon waited a few tense seconds before the official huffed. “...Fine.” He finally relented, seeing the point the aquanaut was making. “I’ll allow it. Just this once. Meet me down at the main control building. I’ll let you in and show you how to operate it.” That was all he said before the hologram winked off, leaving empty space where it once was.

Virgil looked at Gordon in awe, laughing at his success. “How’d you manage to do that?”

His brother just shrugged, still amazed that it had worked. “When you’re in a naval officers company to defend yourself enough times, you pick up a thing or two…” He explained slyly, examining his nails. “Guess I still got it!”

“You sure do little brother!” Virgil chuckled, flying towards the rendezvous point. “Down with overcomplicated safety measures, huh?” Gordon couldn’t help but agree.

[opalspring]

Fuuta used to be bullied theory (+ Fuuta being possibly mlm)

As the title says, this theory will discuss the possibility of Fuuta having been bullied in the past, and why I think this may have happened.

Got the idea for this while looking at Kotoko’s interrogation answers from the first trial. For question 18, she’s asked if she’s ever been bullied in the past before. And her answer was this: “I haven't. Are people with such pasts the only ones allowed to hate evil?”

And this made me wonder if this was a hint from the writers about Fuuta’s character, since it’s been noted multiple times how both he and Kotoko have a particular distaste for evil.

So let’s get into the theory itself! First, let’s discuss some points that could indicate Fuuta getting bullied at some point in his life.

References to physical violence in the mvs

To start this off, I’d like to point out some of the parallels between Fuuta and Muu. One of the first things we learn about them is that Fuuta was a (cyber)bully and Muu was bullied in school. Then came the second trial and we discovered Muu actually used to be a bully herself (though the tables turned on her). Maybe the parallel goes further than that and Fuuta had a past of being bullied too, to go full circle. This part is just speculation though.

Regarding this, some of the wording in Bring it on and Backdraft’s lyrics caught my attention:

“Eat this! Don’t act like you have no idea!”

“We’re gonna punish you until you cry”

“Explode that counter uppercut”

“Pick up your mouth-piece, grind your teeth and strike a pose”

From these instances it seems like Fuuta sees conflict in fighting (and boxing for some of these) metaphors to some degree. In his head, conflict= physical violence. This makes me wonder if again, he’s feeling this way from experience. Like getting beaten up by some kids in middle school. It would form another contrast and parallel between him and Muu:

-Muu herself was bullied verbally and physically, and she bullied others verbally (It’s implied from her second vd the ones who soaked Rei in water were her friends and not her, though it’s impossible to know for sure).

-Fuuta could have been bullied physically (probably verbally too), and similar to Muu who doesn’t see verbal bullying as such, he started his cyberbullying shenanigans like we see in his first mv, while feeling like he’s not doing anything wrong (at first).

There’s also this line from this second vd we could link to this: 

“Urgh, violent people really are the worst, huh?"

Once again, this could indicate Fuuta experienced violence firsthand in the past and resents people who act that way.

(While we’re on the subject, I have a small theory about Fuuta getting an injury after being beaten up that made him unable to play soccer anymore. Which could potentially explain his pessimistic attitude towards his future, after getting his dream (of being a pro player?) crushed.)

Moving on, I want to talk about the way Fuuta addresses people he dislikes, and how it could fit into this theory.

Liars and hypocrites

We know Fuuta likes to harass people he deems bad on twitter, but let’s take a look at how he verbalizes this in his mvs.

With this information we can see Fuuta has a clear distaste for liars, one so strong I feel like he was probably betrayed and bullied by someone close to him in the past. 

There's also this part that could tie into this:

After being betrayed, maybe Fuuta couldn't bring himself to trust others easily again, and began going after people like this online to feel "in control" again? Hmm

Let's move on to the reason I think Fuuta may have been bullied. 

Fuuta's possible attraction to men

I first learned about the gay Fuuta theory with @Moibakadesu's great theory on it (here: A gay little theory about Fuuta (and Muu)). After reading it I felt like it was a cool possibility and started researching it as well. I won’t repeat what’s already written in it so I encourage you to read it too if you’re interested.

This theory could create yet another parallel between Fuuta and Muu, who is strongly implied to be a lesbian. It's unclear whether or not her sexuality was the reason she started being bullied. But if so, it would be interesting to wonder if the same thing happened to Fuuta, making it another similarity between them.

At the time I'm writing this, there's little to no information about Fuuta's life pre-university. We do know however that he doesn't get along with his dad, whom he calls "a weak and pathetic old fashioned guy". The "old fashioned" part is note-worthy, as it could imply Fuuta's dad is homophobic, as conservative people are most of the time.

And since Fuuta was raised by him, he would probably have a lot of internalized homophobia from his education, and would want to keep that part of him hidden if he was indeed mlm.

This next part is just a headcanon but here it is: I feel like Fuuta might have used his twitter account as a safe space to forget about his loneliness at home and implied lack of real friends. And since he doesn't use his real name and photo as a profile picture, he could be semi-anonymous on this account and not hide the fact he's into guys (saying semi-anonymous because it's implied from Bring it on that Fuuta at least knows what Rumerie and his friends look like irl. They, however, don't seem to recognize Fuuta at the arcade so that's the conclusion I came up with).

One thing about Fuuta in Bring it on is how he always keeps a facemask on when he goes outside, with one exception being when he checks his twitter account:

 If the staff bothered to add this detail every time Fuuta checks his account, I think it may have a special meaning. The mask could be a metaphor for being in the closet, with Fuuta only taking it off at home and when online. This reminded me of the book Confessions of a mask by Yukio Mishima: in it, it’s implied the author discusses coming to terms with his homosexuality in the context of a traditional lifestyle through the eyes of his protagonist. 

Another detail regarding Fuuta’s “double life” theme comes later in the song, precisely during this moment:

For a very long time I was confused about this part of the song. But one thing seemed clear to me, since this shot was so long and there was so much insistence on it, it had to be important somehow, right?

Their account is now deactivated, but @otums on twitter pointed out a very interesting detail in one of their Fuuta theories, namely the castle we see in the back of the shot being Neuschwanstein castle in Germany. After doing a bit on research on it, it turns out the castle was ordered by king Ludwig II, who was known for his taste for art and… being gay.

You can probably see where I’m going with this. Looking at this shot again with this information, maybe the castle represents both Fuuta’s safe space in his twitter account, and the fact that said account is a place where he can openly be himself.

Plus, in this shot Fuuta is in his everyday clothes and not his rpg armor, and the icons in the corners of the screen are all distorted (plus the selected icon is the healthpack, maybe to indicate Fuuta’s worry at the time?). 

So my theory for this part is that somehow, someone from Fuuta’s life made a connection between him and his twitter account, sending him into a panic, because people could find out he’s into men. I have a feeling it might have been Killcheroy and it could explain why Fuuta targeted her in the first place, even though she seemed to have done nothing wrong. This is kind of a stretch though (plus there’s the whole impersonation theory and how Fuuta probably didn’t write the messages we see on the phone at the end of the mv). We could link this to this line from the lyrics however:

(So Killcheroy knowing about Fuuta’s real life identity/him being mlm, though how they know each other would have to be explored)

This next shot with Fuuta in his rpg clothes in reality could refer to his online identity having been found out by people he knew irl if we want to push this further.

Another thing about the Neuschwanstein castle connection: King Ludwig II that was mentioned earlier was known for liking art in general, including architecture with the castles he had made. On the flipside though, some people found he wasn't invested enough in the politics of his country and made him pass for mad. This earned him the nickname "The Mad king". If we compare Fuuta to Ludwig II, this particular line from the lyrics could make a lot more sense:

In this context, it could be the way Fuuta addresses his detractors. Again, just a thought.

Earlier we briefly talked about the impersonation theory/ the possibility of Fuuta’s account having been hacked during the Killcheroy callout. It begs the question of why Fuuta’s internet “friends”, Rumerie and co, turned against him. It could just be for the simple reason they’re homophobic and decided to turn against Fuuta because of it. That would make it extra painful if Fuuta was already self-conscious about that part of himself before. But since we’re talking about this theory I thought I’d mention this possibility.

And that’s it! If you have thoughts about all this I’d love to hear them.

[lawlightautismtruther]

All I ever hear when talking with the girls (am I 100% girl? No, and that might be why I feel the disconnect here) is the following

- he’s so tall and big and muscular and deep voiced and UHHHH I WANT HIM TO RAIL MEEEEE

And I’m just like “good for you. Where’s my 5’5” 110 angel of a male, whom I want to carry around princess style to our king sized bed” and they all just look at me like

😨

Like are yall not aware that not EVERYONE is like you??!!!

Like I have no problem with how other people experience sexual attraction, obviously I don’t. That would be hypocritical as hell because people tend to have a problem with how I experience it (note I live in the evangelical American south and the internet is the only place that gets me) but I wish (and I’m the 10000000th person to express this, which goes to show how behind we still are) that women/women-adjacent people were ALLOWED to be masculine and be attracted to femininity without being ostracized and made to feel embarrassed. Especially for lesbians, but also for people like me. I feel like people around here can actually conceptualize a sapphic relationship better than the type of relationship I seek (but they accept neither, unfortunately).

I fear what would happen if they learned I was bi 😩

I’m not emotionally attracted to women (it’s a sexual thing), so I’d end up with a man anyway, but the JUDGEMENT I would still receive from these prehistoric brained people is CRAZY. I feel especially for lesbians and gay people because I know it’s 1000000x harder on them, even if people can conceptualize them better, they hate them even more.

Like, I constantly receive the “well if you’re so attracted to “sissy-boys” why aren’t you just a lesbian?” Which is SO stupid because it implies two really fucking idiotic ideas

1. Sexuality is a choice (specifically, gay people choose to be gay)

2. Being attracted exclusively to femininity = (or at least should equal) being attracted exclusively to women (and the inverse, which is often used to invalidate masc attracted lesbians as jaded straight women or something stupid like that)

WHEN WILL THESE PEOPLE GRASP NUANCE AND VARIANCE IN SEX/GENDER EXPRESSION AND EXPERIENCE.

I know a lot of it is the Bible and Christian culture (which is barely even in the Bible at all), but they break the rules and conventions of it EVERYDAY and find a way to justify it. Yet they can never justify people like me who aren’t harming ANYBODY

Which is proof it’s not 100% about religion, even if they’re consciously convinced it is. It’s about prejudice and ignorance.

what I’ll never understand is the motivation a lot of these people give me for being so obsessed with gender essentialism and policing others “the death of masculinity and femininity in men and women respectively will lead to the downfall of society”

LIKE BROTHER SOURCE PLEASE?!! WHATS YOUR SOURCE HELP

And for the love of God, don’t say the Bible. I’m a Christian myself, actually. But I am fully aware that the Bible was never supposed to be a source for ANYTHING. It’s simply a collection of relevant  documents to the history of our faith. That’s it.

GIVE ME A SCIENTIFIC STUDY AND MAYBE I’LL TAKE YOU A LITTLE MORE SERIOUSLY FOR ONCE (but that will never happen, so by default I will never take these people seriously. Also because if gender variance were an issue, God wouldn’t have made me (and millions of others) the way I am. There are actual problems in this world to worry about, so stop trying to convince me that by “acting like a man” and preferring men who “act like women” I’m contributing to the destruction of society. To be honest, I hope I’m contributing to the downfall of society, because this one stinks). Instead, target the rapists, the murderers, the pedos, the human traffickers, the child exploiters, the money hoarding ultra-rich, the fascists, the racists, the sexists, the homophobes, the supremacists, the nazis, the liars, the cheaters, and the media that promotes them. But most of these people are too far gone to see what’s wrong with the above. So I’m ranting about it all here in this echo chamber. I have no choice.

[adulting-sucks]

So you’re proud of your relationship? Or naw? Cause your actions and your words are two very, very, different things. Hypocrite and liar.///

He also talks about being proud of their work. She evidently isn't proud of hers, so add that to her lies.

I wouldn’t say she’s not proud of it. I’d say she thinks she’s above it. Her superiority complex is unreal. It seems as if she wants the fame without the grind, so this was a perfect way to make it happen.

At the end of the day, Evans isn’t going to look back and think of this time with fondness, or maybe he will. Who fucking knows anymore

[twice-the-outlaw-official]

“I Wonder What You Dream About,” by Gabriel Michaud

What if I had a slumber so deep that I never would sleep.

A foggy brain and a fools heart

Waiting for the waves to part.

Splashing past the coral break, emotionless like a clown on a smoke break

There’s nothing funny about how time ticks by

And I’m always asking why?

Not why? But what if…

What if I fell into a slumber so deep, ignoring every ounce of my body telling me to sleep.

Would you believe me if we all are liars and hypocrites?

I’m the worst case, diagnosed as a total waste.

By Confidence Bleeds True

But what if Red didn’t look good on you.

I’d spoil you with thoughts, knowing they are just forget me nots.

I’m sick of rhyming, and you have impeccable timing; lulling me right back to sleep, a slumber so deep I forgot to say goodnight.

[oddlittlestories]

So I just saw a Dexter gifset about him “not having a next level” and the reminder of how his empathy was handled vs. empathy & ethics in Woe.Begone slingshotted me into ✨Meta Brain Space✨ come into my Meta Danger Circle ⭕️

Disclaimer that I haven’t watched Dexter in a WHILE and I don’t remember a lot of specifics. Also I get a bit critical of Dexter here, so if it’s your fave ever, you might just skip this meta post and go listen to Woe.Begone instead bc I think you’ll like it.

Spoilers ahead.

I’ve tagged it too so you can go blacklist it if you don’t want Woe.Begone spoilers from s1e1-4.

Okay okay so Woe.Begone handles empathy in such such such a cool way. The main character, Mike Walters, tells everything in retrospect in a detached manner, describing how he was terrified / sobbing / etc. *at the moment*. It’s actually impossible for me to tell whether this character has low empathy or atypical expression of empathy.

Like when the challenge is to kill a pig:

goddamnit! I don’t wanna kill a pig! I mean, I know, I eat meat, specifically pork, and so I’ve just been outsourcing this exact labor for my whole life. I’m a hypocrite if I’m willing to let suffering happen as long as it’s just outside my eyeline, but f-fuck it! I can be a hypocrite. I’m worse shit than that all the time. I’m a liar, I’m a bad friend, I’m a shitty podcaster. Just throw “hypocrite” on the heap, it’ll fit right in.

This isn’t a perfect example but you can see how he has a detached approach to his own flaws that I’m not sure I’ve ever seen in a character.

In episode 2, he talks about himself. How he is with people.

[Mike:] I’m not always the best guy. I remember on my freshman floor in college, a new friend was on the phone with her parents, and she was talking about everyone she had just met. When she got to me she said,

MIKE [electronic voice effect]: “There’s the dude, Mike. He’s pretty cool. He’s not nice, but…”

MIKE [normal voice]: Woof. I’d like to think that I’ve done some self-reflection since then but have I really? I tend to bulldoze over other people and their needs and problems more than I should. And more than I would like, I would add. I don’t always like myself and I definitely don’t like when I figure out that I’ve done this. So, this could just be my reputation finally catching up with me… Or it could be WOE.BEGONE.

This feels so incredibly ND to me, especially paired with the flat tone he uses in the show (it’s not monotone, in fact it’s quite engaging, but it IS flat, you should listen to it if you haven’t)

And the show REFERENCES DEXTER. When Mike cuts off his own arm, he puts up plastic sheeting, because his main real reference for the brutal gory IS Dexter.

He decides to do horrible things for the sake of the game bc he decides he wants to win. He reminds himself that a person’s life is more important than feeling embarrassed.

And he goes on a (gentle) rant about how Dexter is a ridiculous show and the only reason he doesn’t get caught is because the PD in the show is ridiculously incompetent.

But having a show make deliberate parallels between Dexter and the MC by making the MC reference the show (even if not referring to the character). And it’s a show ABOUT a clearly ND person, possibly low empathy, deliberately making both ethical and unethical decisions (by his own framework). HOLY MOLY IT’S GIVING ME THE BRAINROT

Mike unpacks the ethics around half the things he chooses to do. He cares about other people but sometimes verbally logics himself into empathy (in a way that’s often unclear to me—is he speaking that way because he doesn’t know how else to express what he feels? Or because he doesn’t feel it and has to logic himself to the moral decision?)

In some ways you could almost read Woe.Begone as a counter to Dexter. Because Dexter, too, does terrible things with (usually) an ethical framework. He explicitly lacks empathy. He’s handed the moral framework and the narrative pretty much uncritically says “he was always going to be a serial killer. so what was he going to do with that?”

And in Woe.Begone, Mike’s motives are complex. Messy. A little bit of empathy here. Curiosity there. Desire for power in the corner. Fear of consequences looming over him. He wasn’t always going to do Woe.Begone. He makes a deliberate decision. Both for every challenge he completes (as far as I know, I only just finished episode 4). And for the game as a whole. And it’s not about being good, and he claims he’s actually a kind of shitty person. And yet to me he feels like a better person than Dexter so far. Or, at least, less hollow. Filled to the brim with his own internal world.

I’d have to rewatch some Dexter to do a full cross-comparison meta, and I might. But I’m absolutely fascinated by what feels like deliberate narrative comparisons here as Dylan Griggs writes more or less a death game about what I read as a low/atypical empathy character.

[medicinemane]

It frustrates me when people who talk a big game about “freedom” push back hard against supporting Ukraine when they’re quite literally fighting for their freedom

Starts coming off a lot more like “I should have the right to do whatever I want, and everyone else should just fall in line and do things my way, and if it doesn’t personally effect me everyone else can get bent”

So yeah, drives me nuts people who will bellow non stop about freedom while in their next breath being really pro russia, complaining about the fact the US is sending aid to Ukraine (hint, a lot of those billions we’re sending isn’t money, it’s weapons that are just sitting their gathering dust)

And listen, I’m not trying to get political here, but I will just point out that in the US there’s one main group I see acting like this about Ukraine, and I’d consider it ironic if I didn’t think all politicians were hypocritical liars. I really only mention this because I worry the US will slow down it’s military aid to Ukraine if certain people win, but it’s a side point

The main point is you don’t get to talk big talk about the concept of freedom and then spit on people quite literally fighting for their freedom while talking about how a demonstrable imperialist like russia is just great

[maxzinn]

So, this memory sort of popped up in my head while I was reading a novel my cousin lent me when I was younger (I forgot the name, sorry). You don't have to answer this question because it's pretty silly.

So, the main duo (a guy and a girl) split up during a mission and the guy meets a girl who's basically like Firefly (a seemingly innocent cute girl with an illness). The female MC gets suspicious of the girl after hearing her ask the male MC if he's okay with hanging out with people who are dangerous or attract danger but according to my cousin, a friend of hers believes that the female MC is just being selfish and jealous of a sweet, innocent girl (newsflash: she turns out to be the one responsible for the kidnappings).

The thing that struck me as odd was the fact that the female MC being suspicious of the girl is pretty valid as she just overheard someone insult her and her friends. Also, she's being protective of the male MC because of his self-sacrificing nature and because he almost died several times (which he appreciates and understands). Also, the girl turns out to be quite a hypocrite. She hates liars, lies, manipulators, and people that keep secrets despite the fact that she has done all of those things. She also got really upset and angry that the male MC rejected her because he loves the female MC, even though he never showed any attraction towards her. Sure, he gave her a compliment and was kind to her but that was it. But she continued to accuse him of stringing her along and breaking her heart (a sentiment that my cousin's friend believes).

But what do you think?

Hmm interesting.

I don’t fully know the story but I’ll make a judgement based on what you’ve said.

I do think that the girl is the a-hole in here. She may act innocent and sweet, but sometimes people pretend to be like that to fool everyone. It’s a facade. I think that she’s pretty childish as well, you do not just assume that someone likes you just because they’re nice to you. I don’t think that Male MC lead her on as well because you said so yourself that he never even showed any romantic affection for her. It’s also very hypocritical of her to claim she hates liars and all of that when she’s talking shit about his friends.

Fem MC’s reactions are pretty valid, they don’t know anything about the girl and don’t know her well enough for them to trust the girl. And there’s nothing to be jealous of an “innocent cute girl” because most of these types of girls are fakers (I read too many manhwas to know that lol 😆) and as it turns out like you said, she’s the one responsible for the kidnappings. I’d feel icky and sus of that girl too if I was the FMC, cuz first of all - What was her motives for saying that to the MMC? Cuz she’s clearly seeding doubt on the MMC so he would doubt(?) his friends. And when did she liked him and how?

That’s my take on this story!

[bxd-kxrma]

Null Eviction - Part 2

“Hey, hey. Getting tired yet?” Karma stood a couple feet from Alter, the both of them had taken on major damage. Karma lost a hand, a horn had been broken off leaving awful, jagged edges atop her skull along with her body being left with deep wounds that were beginning to heal after some time of being untouched. Even though she seemed to be in a dire situation. Alter was looking far worse.

A missing arm, a lost hand, a chunk of her thigh being completely missing as well causing her to rely on floating rather than standing. Her form stayed the same but seemed to be flickering to… Something. It was hard to make out but the both of them were beginning to regenerate their lost limbs and harsh wounds.

“Why…?” Alter’s voice could be heard, from the void that was her face there could be seen some black liquid falling from the area. Was that her blood?

“Why are you so different from me? We’re one and the same yet you haven’t reached the same conclusion as I have. Even being here! See her and knowing what she’s like!” Alter nothing but scorn for the people around her, the ones in her life, ones she called friends and family.

“Have you not thought about it? The damage they’ve done? The innocent lives they’ve made suffer? For what? A good fight?! Yes, everyone can be wished back but that doesn’t make the fear and horror go away! Imagine being so powerless, knowing your family is dying in front of your eyes until you succumb to death itself only to then suddenly be alive again in an instant like nothing happened. That’s nothing but suffering! Those Vacosian’s claim to protect Remnant but only think about the planet as an inhabitable home rather than the life that occupies it!”

Karma would be silent for a moment, thinking of her words before replying “You’re just a full on hypocrite.”

“What!?”

“You’re the same as you claim them to be. When you were on your warpath, killing all of your versions of my family, you made me watch as I couldn’t do anything about it. How can you sit there and say any of that as you’ve literally done far worse?! Does that timeline even have Dragon Balls anymore?! God and to think this was what everything’s been about?! You’re so-“

Alter began to laugh, cutting Karma off, the two of them were almost fully regenerated. The air was filled with impatience as the two of them wanted so desperately to get back to their fight.

“You know so very little about Ruby and what she keeps from you.” Her thigh had regenerated, walking slowly around Karma, the two of them mimicking each other’s movements now.

“Did you know, she knows our mother’s alive?”

Karma would stop in her tracks at the revelation. “You’re a goddamn liar.” Her eyes would glare at Alter whose form was almost fully restored, but that image she kept presenting, the void empty face with nothing but the glow of eyes, the gray skin… It was all starting to fade into color again.

“Well, I’d say go and ask her yourself but… You’re not leaving here alive.”

Karma had enough of this, jumping right in and yelling “Get the fuck out of my home!” A punch, landing square in that now half colored face if Alter’s which now showed features of a nose and a pair of lips. “And my damn timeline!” Another throw of a punch, one that was covered with energy that swirled with a darker hue of pink bordering the usual glow.

The fist was caught, the energy surrounding it dissipating like water evaporating off a hot surface. The hand that caught it wasn’t the normal grey skinned tone Karma was used to and when she looked at Alter, she saw now that her darkness form had completely dissolved and the woman standing back at her…

“This is not your timeline to call home!”

Karma had no time to respond or even react to the information at all as her body was thrown and immediately hit with a beam of energy that wrapped itself around her, surrounding her being. This wasn’t good, she couldn’t move her body at all, she noticed the beam was extending out from Alters hands.

“It’s time for you to see the truth, Karma.”

“W-Wait how are you-?!” Her body seemed to move on its own, forced to mimic Alters movements “Wait… Wait are you??”

Their bodies stood side by side, a calculated distance between each other and soon, a very special, integral ‘dance’.

“Fuuu-“

“No!” Karma tried to resist, tried to get out of this forced mimic state she was in, desperately trying to deny her body the precise movements the dance needed as it moved perfectly in sync with Alter’s.”

“-Sion!”

It was nearly complete, Karma’s heartbeat pounded in her ears, she didn’t know something like this could even be possible. Alter wasn’t one to play games like this! This had to be-

“Ha!”

Their fingers would flawlessly touch each others, from them a large radius of energy would grow and expand as color’s of black red and pink would clash collide and mix until regressing into a singular form, containing all of that impossible power into one person.

“…”

The figure would stand there in silence as an internal battle will be made within.

[onceuponalegendbg]

Thoughts On Danganronpa Project: Eden’s Garden Fan Game

It’s genuinely so good so far guys. It’s incredible how much effort was put into this project, and how well it’s turning out so far. The potential for this project is ridiculous right now.

Damon Maitsu: Ultimate Debater - Snake. It’s so interesting that we’re basically playing as the Byakuya of this game. It doesn’t feel quite as antagonistic as Togami but there’s definitely some of the same leanings. At least as of right now. Damon kind of reminds me of Hajime, and how he acknowledged that even he wasn’t sure if he wouldn’t kill someone if he got desperate enough. He’s certainly arrogant and a bit hypocritical in that arrogance but I’m supposing that may be part of his development as a character. Either way, it’ll be an interesting perspective to play from.

Eva Tsunaka: Ultimate Liar - Crow. Ah, the enigma of this game for sure. So far I’m really enjoying her as a character and am very intrigued by the concept of having someone that you actually can’t tell if they’re lying or not. So far, Eva has been impressively unreadable while still coming off as having personality. In fact she’s actually a little sassy. Her and Damon also just bring up some excellent points in regards to Wolfie trying to rally the troops with a very... naive view of trust. Also, I just... really love her hair. The black giving way to the white tips.

Grace Madison: Ultimate Golfer - Rabbit. When I say my heart stopped when I thought we’d lost her already. I was having Mukuro flashbacks and I can’t even begin to describe the relief I felt when she didn’t end up shot. I think she might be my favorite of the cast so far. She’s definitely abrasive, no doubt about that but it feels different than it did with Miu or even Hiyoko. I can’t quite describe what it is, I just kind of find her funny. I just also have to admire the guts (insanity) it takes to just go up and beat the crap out of the cult leader dude that kidnapped you and a bunch of other Ultimates in order to get you play a killing game. Like, she actually was just gonna beat him down. You have to respect the guts.

Wolfgang Akire: Ultimate Lawyer - Sheep. Now time for the protagonist to our antagonist. On surface level, this guy seems pretty swell. There’s definitely some backstory trauma with how riled up he got during the Prologue Trial but overall, he seems to have a decent head on his shoulders. But again, that’s just a surface level read. Unfortunately for Wolfie, however; most of us are familiar with the idea of a Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing. Do I trust him? Not particularly, but I think he’ll make an excellent rival character if that’s indeed what they’re going for with him.

Toshiko Kayura: Ultimate Matchmaker - Flamingo. Who is this sassy, lost child? Like seriously, why is a 14 year old the Ultimate Matchmaker? Did she guess which contestant the Bachelor would choose 100% of the time or something? Anyway, I like her design but I also just.... really don’t have an actual opinion on her yet. 

Eloise Taulner: Ultimate Fencer - Swan. Protective instincts are kicking in hard with this one which means she’s most likely going to die. She seems like a sweetheart, and that’s always dangerous in a game like this. Outside of that I don’t have a ton to say about her but I’m looking forward to learning more. After all, it’s only the beginning of the game.

Desmond Hall: Ultimate Marksman - Shark. He seems like a pretty chill dude, and I can see a lot of potential red herrings in regards to him and his skill during trials. I’d be surprised if he isn’t suspected in at least one trial.... until it actually turns out to be him. Dun dun duuuuun.

Ingrid Grimwall: Ultimate Blacksmith - Lion. Love her design. Another character I’m not particularly sure about. Again, seems like a big teddy bear but... there’s something that doesn’t quite sit right with me now that I’ve seen the whole prologue. I can’t put my finger on what it is. Also while the creators have said that they’re going to avoid the typical Danganronpa tropes  (two murders in the third chapter, big muscle character dies in the fourth, etc) I will be shocked if she makes it to the end of the game.

Wenona: Ultimate Entrepreneur - Bear. She certainly has the arrogance to give our darling protag a run for his money, and I’m looking forward to the possible back and forth between her and Cassidy. Another gorgeous design, and I do really like her voice. I’m actually placing bets on her being a survivor. I’m fully prepared to be absolutely wrong. Really interested in what she brings to the game.

Cassidy Amber: Ultimate Pro Gamer - Spider. Speaking of our resident streamer, she’s another character that I like, but something about her is also just very off putting to me. I appreciate a good Ace Attorney reference though, so that does get her some bonus points. As stated earlier, can’t wait to see her butting heads with Wenona.

Ulysses Wilhelm: Ultimate Historian - Owl. As someone who loved history in school, is an avid note taker, and desperately just wishes she could spend most of the day napping.... this boy is such a mood. Outside of that, however.... He hasn’t really made that big of an impression on me. In fact, when listing characters earlier today, I completely forgot about him. So.... do with that what you will. I don’t hate him by any means but so far I’m a bit indifferent. Which is a shame because history class was usually one of the classes outside of English that I was actually very good in.

Mark “Mayhem” Berskii: Ultimate Music Producer - Alligator. This kid looks like he really needs to go to sleep and honestly... I feel that.

Diana Venicia: Ultimate Cosmetologist - Chameleon. Okay, so this girl is actually one of the ones I’m so overtly suspicious of for seemingly no reason. At first glance at least. Diana just seems so weirdly normal, if not a little shady. Like seriously, if you actually look at some of her dialogue, she has a tendency to sneak in these really backhanded comments. Keeping my eye on this girl.

Kai Monteago: Ultimate Influencer - Butterfly. ..... I do not trust this boy and his crocodile tears. Not in the slightest.

Jett Dawson: Ultimate Drag Racer - Coyote. Good boy. No way he’s making it to the end. Again, will be genuinely shocked if he does.

Jean Delamer: Ultimate Ship Captain - Dragon. His voice. Yes, sir. But also, he seems like he’ll be a bit of trouble. Similar to how Kaito kept getting himself into trouble by being a hot head. Really hoping he sticks around for a while, but knowing how these games go, I’ve probably just jinxed it.

Tozu: Game Master - Goat. I really like this change up from the main line games. Instead of a joyfully creepy teddy bear mascot we have the clearly unhinged cult leader. This should be interesting.

Mara: Enforcer - Panther. We know nothing about her and I already love her. Sure, she almost killed Grace but I’m willing to forgive that very minor transgression. I also just love that they actually gave her tone/muscle definition. Her design is seriously cool.

Outside of the characters I just really dig the art. It’s obviously replicating the usual Danganronpa style (masterfully I might add) but there’s also these really neat little extra touches. I especially love the art for the splash screen showing the Surviving Students countdown and can’t wait to see how they play with that.

I’m just genuinely so stoked to see where this all goes and can’t wait for Chapter 1′s release. At least they do have a lot of the assets finished. Most it now would probably be other splash screens, trial dynamics/mechanics, and ironing out some of the future story points.