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depravitycentral · 9 months

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Enji Todoroki General Yandere Profile

Yandere! Enji Todoroki x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, stalking, power imbalances, financial trapping, mentions of physical/domestic abuse, mentions of non-con, sexist undertones, Enji wants you to be his cute little housewife, mentions of breeding/pregnancy, a few mentions of making sure you eat enough/food, Enji is patronizing whoo boy, he makes you share a toothbrush and yes he's weird about it, this is set in a divergent timeline where Enji and Rei are formally divorced and his relationship with his family is loose and not super tight, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 11K

DARLING PROFILE:

Kind

Enji is, simply, harsh.

His quirk, his mannerisms, his attitude, his everything, really, is a bit rough around the edges, forming a man with only enough self control to get what he wants. He’s lived his whole life bitterly, constantly jealous, constantly wanting, willing to throw everything away in order to achieve his goals.

And once everything starts caving in around him, his family and career both taking unexpected turns, Enji finds himself so, so painfully alone. He doesn’t pretend to delude himself into thinking he’s not deserving of his fate, but this places him into a position where he shoulders the guilt while desperately trying to find any outlet to forget it.

And this is where a darling who is kind comes into play – he needs someone who won’t judge him for his past. He needs someone who doesn’t treat him like scum, who is still polite and empathetic to him and his emotions. A darling who is able to consistently praise him will have him smitten quickly, growing emotionally dependent on hearing their sweet words in order to function, in order to not let the depression and stress get the better of him.

And even once his obsession has formed and he’s deep in the depth of his infatuation, a darling who is just too kind to kick him to the curbside is absolutely essential for him – they must be doting and caring, helping rebuild his shattered confidence and psyche, and with every compliment they dish out, Enji vows that he’ll return the sentiment tenfold, in his own way of course.

(This means buying his darling millions of yen worth of their favorite things, all kinds of wonderful gifts that he hopes will sway them in his favor, that will get them drooling over him and all that he can provide for them.)

Hardworking

Although he’s in a mental state that leaves him much more susceptible to finding a partner once he divorces Rei, Enji is still a picky man. He won’t fall for just anyone – no, they must fit his standard, be acceptable and meet the rather long and detailed checklist he has for those he considers as potential romantic partners.

And near the top of this list is determination. He’s a man motivated by his own goals and is willing to stop at nothing to achieve them – and so, a darling that can at least somewhat match this aspect of his personality is critical.

He has no patience for a darling that gives up easily; he wants someone that’s willing to put in the effort to see it pay off, someone who understands the concept of self-discipline and holding yourself to certain moral standards.

He finds it wildly attractive when someone has strong character, and his interest would immediately be piqued with a darling who brings an attitude of perseverance and hard work into every aspect of their life, be it work, their hobbies, their relationship, and everything in between.

He wants someone who is perhaps not quite as stubborn as him, but is still serious in their goals.

(He hopes that one day, making him happy and pleasing him will be one of these goals – just as pleasing his darling is one of his own. And he’s more than happyto please them in whatever way they so desire. More than happy.)

Motherly

Because he views his darling as the perfect wife, his darling absolutely must possess at least somewhat of a motherly air about them. He likes the idea of having a nurturing partner, if only because he finds it endearing when they care for others.

As a hero he shares this sentiment, and although it may sometimes be overshadowed by his need to become the best, deep down inside he does very much wish to help others – his methodology is just a little more violent, a little more overt.

His darling, by contrast, should prefer a methodology that’s much gentler, something that focuses more on making others feel safe and heard and cared for.

Besides, Enji very much desires to have children with his darling; to build a second family, one that he’ll care for and nourish much better than his first. And so, if his darling is to be a good mother, they must embody these traits.

Besides, although he doesn’t fall for his darling because of his fantasies of making them a mother, once the feelings are formed these daydreams only further his feelings, deepening his obsession because oh, he’d give absolutely anything to see them pregnant with his child, carrying his seed, creating something that symbolizes the love and dedication between them.

And so, his darling needs to be someone who naturally takes care of others – and in return, Enji will take care of them. Just how it should be.

Pushover

This trait is a bit less crucial compared to the others, but it’s still most definitely a positive from Enji’s perspective.

Of course he likes a darling who has strong opinions and stands up for them, but he loves a darling that will let him guide them through any hard decisions, or really any decisions at all.

Although he’s not as outright controlling with his darling, he still very much feels that he wears the pants in the ‘relationship’, and thus he is the one calling the shots.

A darling who is happy to let him take over their life like this is a massive help to him – he doesn’t have to fight for control, nor does he have to argue with them about why certain decisions really should be made by him as the more dominant partner, as the one who knows more about the world, as the man. It’s an outdated view and it’s one that he doesn’t really want to admit out loud, but he enjoys the idea of a partner who will revere him and allow him full control.

He wants to be loved and cherished, and in return for a love like this, he’ll do his best to provide for and take care of his darling in every way he possibly can – so really, if his darling knows what’s best for them, they’ll step back and let him make all the tough decisions.

They’ll nod and smile and agree with whatever he chooses, pressing a kiss against his cheek and telling him how much they trust him, how they know he’d never hurt them, how he only wants what’s best for them.

Just the thought makes something warm swell in his stomach, the level of trust making him feel wanted, needed, a concept so foreign that it almost feels wrong. But oh, how he likes it.

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Controlling

But in a very, very strange way – a lot of what fuels Enji’s obsession is this desperate, innate need to right his wrongs. He’s very, very aware of how thoroughly he ruined his family, how horribly he treated Rei, how he was a poor excuse of a father and husband, and he sees his love with you as almost being his second try. With you, he can do all the things he should have done with Rei and his children – he should have been sweet and loving, a present father that cared about each of his children equally. He should have been a doting husband, spoiling his wife and making her feel loved and desired.

But he didn’t, and although Rei has long since divorced him, Enji finds himself feeling lonely, incomplete, restless to try again, to properly provide for a sweet little thing he can call his own. And this is where you come in – and from the moment he realizes his feelings for you are more than a simple attraction, he dives in head-first.

He decides he'll approach everything with you in a way as opposite from his previous marriage as possible – he's all grand, romantic gestures, always showing up with a bouquet of flowers in hand and just the slightest pink tint on his scarred cheeks.

The grand, romantic gestures are, of course, merely things he’s seen in rom-coms; the women always look happy when the love interest swoops in with flowers and gifts and pretty clothing, the beaming smile and large hug the man gets as a reward seeming very, very appealing to Enji, despite his rigid exterior.

(Just the thought of you hugging him has his heart racing – it’s something so intimate, so entirely new that it makes every nerve in his body stand on edge, a shiver running up his spine as he imagines the way your body would feel pressed against his, how you’d sigh and sink further against him, how you’d squeeze him and god, the view he’d get when he looks down to see your body pressed so tightly against him that not even a breath of air could separate you -)

He’s scouring through women’s magazines, burying his nose in the glossy pages and searching for ideas and clues as to what women enjoy as courting gifts.

(He has to scoff under his breath every time he sees a new dieting tip or regiment, internally frowning and worrying that you’re seeing these ads and potentially obsessing over your weight. The last thing he’d want is for you to be unhappy with your body – certainly not when he’s so very happy with it. Not to mention the nutritionally heinous foods the magazine recommends – he’d sooner have you eat raw paper than follow this ludicrous advice.)

He’s even caving and very, very awkwardly asking his female sidekicks and employees at his agency about their tips on how to seduce a woman. He struggles to make eye contact with them when he asks, his imposing figure almost reminding them of a shy, nervous teenage boy with the way he’s so earnest about his question, his eyes lighting up when they mention an idea he hasn’t tried yet, pressing them for details and specifics and you must tell me what to say to her – how does one follow up gifting a puppy?

It would be sweet, really, how devoted he is to making sure that you’re absolutely spoiled, that you get a whole variety of lavish gifts designed to sweep you off your feet. It would be wonderful, really, except that Enji has never understood the concept of being too much – which is how everything will start to feel very, very early on in this process.

It was nice at first to receive a fresh bouquet of roses every morning at your desk with a handwritten card attached. (Written in impeccable handwriting, the cursive letters looping and elegant as they spell out short, simple, sweet messages signed with a capital E at the bottom, reading please make sure to eat enough today and that skirt looks lovely on you.)

It was nice at first, but after the second week of daily bouquets and even a few finding their way to the doorstep of your apartment, the sight of the pretty red flowers makes a sinking feeling swirl in your gut.

(Enji notices this, dismayed and frustrated by your lack of a positive response, and decides to double down and just gift you bigger flowers, because maybe your lack of joy at receiving the bouquets is because they aren’t big enough, aren’t grandiose enough, aren’t good enough.)

It was nice to get the cute, small stuffed bunny on your desk one morning, and you’d even grown so fond of the little thing that you perched it on the edge of your desk, assuming it was a one-time gift. But it wasn’t – the stuffed animals kept coming, getting bigger and more detailed and much, much more expensive, you’re sure.

(Enji is careful to remove each and every price tag on every gift he sends you, simply because he doesn’t want you to feel that you owe him financially, nor does he want you to be swayed into accepting him as your partner by mere economic standing – that’s an asset that you’ll come to know, of course, but he’d rather lure you in via more traditional ways. It doesn’t exactly stay secret, though, because once the necklace with a delicate array of at least five diamonds in it arrives at your front door, your secret admirer’s wealth becomes very, very difficult to hide.)

He’s gifting you jewelry with more precious jewels and gold and silver than you could possibly wear, and outfitting your closet with all kinds of dresses and skirts out of materials and cuts you could never hope to afford for yourself.

(And, of course, they’re all tailored to fit you perfectly – how Enji managed to get your exact sizes is still a question that haunts you, one that makes you scared to upon the nicely wrapped boxes that you find in excess outside your front door.)

It’s all just too damn much – Enji is suffocating with his attempts to woo you, his every gift and gesture leaving you feeling uncomfortable. What he’s trying to do is very, very obvious – and it feels wrong. He’s the number one hero, a busy man with much more important things to be doing – so why is he going after you? And why with such ferocity?

His forwardness will scare you off, driving you to avoid him and grow suspicious of his motives, and Enji does not like this development. This wasn’t supposed to happen – you’re supposed to want him, to be seduced by all of his efforts, to be swept off your feet and swooned by his gifts and words (delivered with the grace of a garbage truck, of course, but the sentiment is there – even if looking at your pretty face distracts him, all the words leaving his head and making him stand there gaping like a fool).

Enji doesn’t like it, and so he presses harder, stepping up the frequency and volume of his gifts, only effectively pushing you further and further away from him as you grow more uneased and unsettled. And if you were to confront him about it?

Well, this is where his controlling tendencies come into play – denying who he naturally is can only last for so long, and despite being a man with superb self-restraint, the moment that Enji feels you’re slipping from his fingers he’s morphing back into the man that commands your every move.

Suddenly he’s no longer presenting you with the newest shampoo you’ve been talking about (it’s salon grade, the best stuff out there, and much too expensive, but not for Enji – nothing is too expensive for him when it’s for you) but rather letting this expression wash over his face, one that you’ve never seen before.

It’s cold, remarkably so; his lips are pressed tightly together, his brows perfectly straight, those eyes lifeless as he tells you to stop fighting, go inside and change into the green dress I gave you last week. We’re going for dinner, and you’ll order the house salad and a slice of chocolate cake for dessert. Do you understand me?

It’s weird and unexpected and scary, and it’ll have you immediately stuttering out a yes and scurrying inside, too frightened to disobey. And really, while Enji winces every time he does this, eventually he finds himself trying to justify it as simply ensuring your relationship will last.

Obviously it’s not good that he has to force you into these small, minor, inconsequential things (like going on a date with him or letting him accompany you home afterwards), but this is different from with Rei – you want this, right? You’re just too shy to tell him how flattered you are about all the attention he’s giving you.

You’re just playing coy, acting on your age-old feminine instincts to make men chase after you, to be demure and make your partner work for your affection and love. And eventually, Enji will convince himself that this is different, he’s wooing you and getting you into a relationship with him willingly – you want him.

You practically love him already – things are going well. They’re successful.

They have to be.

And so, while Enji doesn’t mean to be controlling, the end results is that although he plays the nice guy that spoils you and gives you anything your heart desires, at the end of the day he is the one in charge, and he is the one dictating your relationship.

And really, what can you do to stop him? He’s strong, both physically and with the general population – one word from him and you’d be hunted for like a madman, ostracized from the community, brought back to him like a pup to its owner.

You belong with him, and it’s his job to make you see that – even if you want to remain blind.

Possessive

Enji Todoroki doesn’t share. Once he decides that he wants you, you become unequivocally his.

Sure, he wants to do things a bit differently with you and get you to harbor more loving feelings towards him, but from the moment his infatuation forms you don’t really have a choice in the matter.

You can pretend like you do, if it makes you feel better (and it will, because at least you can pretend that you have even an ounce of control in the relationship, that you aren’t just some adorable little thing he’s decided he wants hanging off his arm and warming his bed), but at the end of the day you’re subject to Enji’s whims.

And although Enji lets you harbor this fantasy of your relationship being truly consensual, the moment something occurs that threatens it, his true colors are shown. Namely, when he thinks your attention is veering away from him, his jealousy and anger become difficult to keep in check, his quirk acting up and letting off small sparks and flames all along his body. His fists clench and his jaw tightens when he sees another man around you, and although he tries to rationalize that the man likely doesn’t want anything to do with you, just simply being in your presence is enough to make Enji suspicious.

Even if the man isn’t talking to you or acknowledging you in any way, he’s anxious – he’s scared that something about this man will attract you, that you’ll somehow find him better than Enji.

Maybe the man is friendlier – Enji’s aware that he isn’t exactly the most approachable person on the planet.

Maybe he's funnier – Enji knows he can’t crack a joke to save his life.

Maybe he’s a better conversationalist – less formalities and awkwardness, able to get you laughing so hard you snort.

It makes Enji’s skin crawl, his knuckles turning white from how hard he’s fisting his hands, and before long he will intervene. He’ll grab you as gently as he can on the elbow, guiding you carefully but quickly away to the other side of the room and physically maneuvering so that his body is blocking your sight of the man – and more importantly, blocking his sight of you.

He’ll try to talk with you, trying to distract you and get your mind off of the other man, all in an effort to get your attention back on him. He’s reminding you that you have him, that you don’t need some other man, that you already have one who’s capable of providing for you and caring for you as you deserve.

Frankly, he discovers just how deeply his feelings for you run in a situation where jealousy gets the best of him – you’d been approached at a small gathering by a man from another agency who was clearly hitting on you. He was leaning in close, smiling with a smarmy smirk and nursing on his cocktail like a lifeline.

Enji had noticed the two of you out of the corner of his eye, and immediately he’d gone stiff. He couldn’t stop staring at the way the man kept getting gradually closer to you, how he kept leaning in further, how his hand slid from his pocket to your shoulder, then your arm, down to your hand and oh, oh god, it looks like he’s bringing it down to your waist –

Enji had been by your side in mere moments, his gaze card and harsh as he’d stepped in front of you, making some poorly toned excuse about needing to speak with you for a moment, before unceremoniously dragging you away from the stupefied man.

From that day, Enji absolutely refuses to allow anyone close to you. And really, can he be blamed? After all, he fell for you, so why wouldn’t anyone else? You’re beautiful and caring, smart and dignified, and if he can see your potential as a lovely, perfect little wife, surely others can too.

And so, Enji ramps up his controlling tendencies the more he’s presented with situations where the green-eyed monster accompanies him. And this control takes its main form through financials – that is, while Enji originally didn’t want to attract you to him via his material wealth, he decides it’s a necessary evil in order to have you staying by his side only.

He starts ‘forgetting’ to peel off the price tags of the gifts he gives you, pretending not to notice how your eyes practically bug out of your head when you unbox the pink pendant he’d bought for you.

He starts inviting you out for lunches and dinners more often, ordering for you and choosing the most expensive items off the menu despite your numerous pleas that you’ll opt for something – anything – cheaper.

(It’s frustrating, too, because as angry as you want to be at him for ordering for you, he always chooses something you end up liking – of course it’s because he’s done extensive research and stalking, finding out your favorite foods and what flavors you dislike, but it all seems like one large, awfully strange coincidence to you.)

Exerting financial control over you keeps you complacent, because the guilt you’ll feel at how much money he’s sinking into you will have you following his every word, even if it his commands are a little strange and off-putting – like spending less time with any male friends (or really any friends for that matter) or slipping the small photograph of him into your purse (it’s weird and you do so hesitantly, making sure the polaroid is at the bottom of the bag – and trying to ignore the way his muscles are oh-so fucking defined in the tight black shirt he’s sporting in the photograph).

It’s all just a big ploy to keep you from running off with some other man – but really, if you somehow did manage to do that, Enji won’t be particularly merciful. He will be cornering the man as he leaves your apartment and he will be holding him by the neck against the cold concrete wall, threatening him to leave you alone or experience the rather unpleasant sensation of burning alive.

It’s not particularly heroic, but Enji doesn’t care – he can’t, not when the threat of you leaving him for another man is very much present and real. It’s too scary, too much for him to handle – it would mean you rejecting him, his second fuck-up in love, and the loss of someone who fits absolutely every one of his desires in a woman.

You’re too perfect for him to lose – so instead, he’ll own you.

Dependent

He will never admit it, but there’s this part of Enji that grows stronger day by day, every time he sees your face, that tells him in the most raw, real way that he absolutely needs you.

He’s essentially lost what he had of his family, and with the sharp uptake in responsibility as the new number one hero, the new symbol of modern peace, Enji finds himself turning to you in his time of need, in his more vulnerable moments.

Because really, though his exterior is tough and jaded, he’s only human – he too needs someone to love, someone to hold and latch onto, and latch he does. You’re his, and he expects you to understand that even if he doesn’t verbalize it.

He cherishes your very existence, each and every thing you do, finding you to be remarkably weak yet remarkably endearing, your inability to defend yourself simultaneously adorable and frustrating. He needs you to realize that you’re his everything; his whole reason for living now, even if he doesn’t give you many clues into this.

He isn’t the best at expressing his emotions, and although the love and desperation he feels for you is constantly overwhelming him, overflowing from his chest and making him dizzy, he doesn’t articulate just how deeply these feelings run.

Of course he’ll tell you how you’re beautiful, or that you’re my responsibility to protect, but he’ll also say significantly less romantic things like how you belong to him, how he's never letting you out that front door, how he’ll never let those disgusting, filthy villains touch something as perfect as you.

He thinks it’s sweet and exactly what you want to hear, but it’s not – it’s scary and strange and weird, but these are your biggest clues as to his dependence on you.He won’t tell you, but his expectations for you are honestly monumentally high; he wants you to be his perfect little wife, everything that Rei wasn’t, and this includes giving you every ounce of his love.

He wants you to be diligently cooking him hearty meals, keeping the house tidy and clean for the two of you, to be massaging his shoulders while he relaxes from a stressful day at work. (Hell, he even wants you to wear cute little aprons, collars with his name stitched onto them, those maternity/breast feeding bras before you’re even pregnant…)

He wants a domestic fantasy with you, and this extends to other, more vulnerable things as well. He expects you to embrace him as he walks through the door everyday returning home, to give him a light peck on the cheek and ask about his day, to let him hug you from behind and kiss your neck as you slave away over the stove.

He never really got the chance to do such loving things with Rei (not that he particularly wanted to), and as a result he honestly feels like he’s having to make up time, that he needs to be taking every single ounce of affection and love you can possibly give him, and he’ll feel no guilt at all.

He won’t outright ask you to cuddle him, but when he sits on the large, overstuffed leather couch and stares at you expectantly, you’ll quickly learn to run over to him and snuggle up into his side, to bury your face into his chest and wrap your arms and legs around him even if his body heat cooks you alive.

He won’t ever explicitly ask you to give him those fluttery, soft morning kisses he’s seen all the time in terrible corny rom-coms he religiously watched for inspiration while trying to court you, but the moment you smile sleepily at him and press a kiss against his lips while you holds you close in the morning glow?

God, it’s in those moments that he wants to give you absolutely everything he has – every part of his body, soul and heart, every single cent he owns, every piece of fame and fortune he’s ever amassed.

Enji just wants to please you, and although he comes off as an odd mix of demanding yet generous, terrifying yet strangely awkward, inside his heart is hammering against his ribcage every time you so much as smile at him, every time you so much as look at him. In the hazy afterglow of a round of passionate morning sex (in which you’ve realized that fighting will get you nowhere – it’ll only earn you an Enji that’s more frantic and desperate to get you moaning and crying out his name), when he latches onto your smaller, exhausted and sweaty body, pressing you as tightly against him as possible, sometimes his demeanor will crack.

He’ll lean down to deeply inhale the scent of your hair, to watch the way your chest rises and falls, and he’ll whisper in the softest of voices that he loves you, you’re the light of his world. He doesn’t know what he’d do without you, but Enji is hellbent on never finding out – after all, there is no chance of escape with him, and he’s sure you’ll learn your place soon.

After all, pretty, submissive girls like you always do.

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

Enji is, regrettably, terrible at hiding his jealousy.

He’s always been in a constant state of envy, whether it was vying for the top spot in the heroing world against All Might, desiring the perfect offspring in order to have the Todoroki name and himself live on, and countless other examples. He’s prideful and so fucking jealous of everyone around him, and this is only heightened when it comes to you – his possessiveness over you is nothing to sneeze at, and the minute he feels that your attention is threatened, that you could possibly be yearning for another?

He’s wasting no time stepping in, mercilessly shutting down each and every opportunity you could possibly have of being with anyone other than himself.

As much as he’s loathe to admit it, his jealousy and possessiveness stems from a place of insecurity; he’s aware that he’s by no means the perfect partner, and he rationally knows that you could do much, much better than him.

And so, as a sort of panic-induced response, Enji decides that you simply aren’t allowed to interact with any other men – this way, you aren’t presented with the opportunity to even let the feelings form. And he’s diligent with this theory, too – he’s always standing near you, acting as your shadow with watchful, hawk-like eyes trained on your figure.

He’s never been the best at reading people, but he’s able to tell from miles away when someone approaches you with intentions that are less than innocent, and immediately his lips are thinning, his brows furrowing, his entire body temperature raising by five degrees because you’re his, and this piece of scum disguised as a man obviously doesn’t realize this.

He’s your guardian angel in many ways (though really, he takes the guardian portion much too far – even men who have no romantic intentions with you are viewed as potential threats, shooed away with a vengeance that will make them too afraid to even think about you without imagining themselves engulfed in flames), though at times it will make you feel more than a little patronized.

It’s as if he doesn’t trust you – you don’t really have a relationship, at least in your eyes, but you know the number one hero wants something more than friendship with you. And so, you do your best to avoid evoking his anger and wrath by not romantically involving yourself with another man – and yet that’s not enough for Enji.

It can’t be, simply because as pretty and sweet and smart as you may be, Enji will always know better. It’s a controlling tendency and a mildly sexist view, but he thinks of you as his doting, loving housewife-to-be, and it’s the man’s job to make these sorts of decisions.

You’re just too sweet and outgoing for your own good – you’ll get mixed up in all sorts of trouble if you’re not careful, and lucky little you has someone like Enji to watch out for you and make sure your pretty head has nothing to worry about. And so, Enji sticks to you like glue, warding off potential suitors with grueling stares and a presence and reputation too strong to ignore.

Enji’s day had been long, and one of those days that made him seriously question his abilities as a hero. A villain had managed to trick him, and although Enji had of course eventually arrested the perpetrator, his deception had led to a lot of wasted time and more damage to surrounding buildings than was acceptable.

His head was pounding, his body still feeling overly hot from all of the fighting, and though not normal, he’d decided he was done for the day and left the rest of the agency’s calls to his sidekicks. Leaving early had felt almost freeing in a way, the world looking a bit different with all this extra time – walking down the sidewalk, Enji scanned the windows of each shop he passed.

As per usual, you’d been on his mind all day – flashes of your face sitting just behind his eyelids, your name just a hair away on his tongue, the feeling of your phantom touch sending shivers down his spine. It was irritating, distracting, heavenly, and with each window he passed, he kept an eye out for anything you might like.

He’d gotten you a pretty tea cup set yesterday, and although you’d been hesitant and visibly uncomfortable at receiving such a gift (the set was very, very obviously expensive, the marbled china too perfect and pristine to have costed anything less than a year’s worth of your salary), Enji was eager to gift you something that would be received better today.

Streets passed by, nothing quite suiting his vision for what you deserved – he’d need something more subtle today, something simple and sweet and something he knows you like – The confectionary is small, with swirling black letters over a baby pink banner spelling out the name of the store. The windows are lined with all sorts of chocolates and candies, all wrapped up in pretty, ornate packaging that makes Enji immediately pick up his pace, practically storming into the small shop.

It smells like vanilla and sugar as the door shuts behind him, and although it makes him wince, he knows you’d love it. Shelves nearly as tall as him line the shop in narrow rows, displaying all sorts of sweets that he’s never heard of before – caramels, gumdrops, chocolates, lollipops, anything and everything under the sun.

He’s only been in the store for roughly five minutes, staring at a collection of truffles with furrowed brows and a downward curl of his lip when he hears a small laugh over the gentle, happy classical music playing quietly over the speakers. Immediately he’s perking up – the laugh sounds familiar; the lilt of it, the tonality, the soft intake of breath right after it stops.

His lips part, eyes going wide, and before he can even really control himself he’s rushing towards the source of the noise, his entire face growing warm when he sees you – you’re at the register, a few candies sitting on the wooden slab, your purse in hand as you fish for presumably your wallet.

You look gorgeous today – you’re wearing a shirt he’s never seen before and your favorite pair of jeans (the ones that make your ass look so, so very perfect – perfect to squeeze at, to grope and touch and smack and press himself against…), and although he’s briefly disappointed that you aren’t wearing an item of clothing that he’d gifted you, he notices the clerk all too soon.

The clerk – Hyoshi, his nametag says – is smiling at you. He’s all teeth, a grin that makes the hairs on the back of Enji’s neck stand up, his nostrils flaring because you’d been laughing, and it must be this man’s doing. This man, who’s visibly weak even under the ridiculous confectionary uniform he’s sporting – arms that couldn’t hope to lift even a fraction of what Enji can, a chest that isn’t ruggedly defined like the hero’s, and a stature that’s frankly pathetic compared to the frame of the redheaded man behind you.

Enji’s angry, and as the man opens his mouth to presumably say something else (potentially something that’ll make you laugh again), his words die on his tongue as he glances behind you to see the behemoth of a man who’s quite literally acting as your shadow.

His eyes widen and immediately he’s stuttering out a w-welcome in, Endeavor! At that, your shoulders go stiff, your mouth parting into an adorable little ‘o’ that Enji can practically see in his head, and you slowly turn around.

Oh, hello Endeavor, aren’t you normally on patrol right now?

Enji’s jaw works, and although a small part of him is pleasantly surprised that you’d remembered his patrol shift, your words only serve to further frustrate him. You knew it was his time on the clock – and yet, you’d still ventured out into the heart of downtown, completely on your own, defenseless except for the measly, very sad pepper spray you keep in that worn purse of yours – both of which he keeps pleading with you to let him replace.

(He’ll get you new pepper spray and a taser and a pocketknife, just because he knows how dangerous these streets can be, and with your pretty face and your pretty body he’s sure villains would be lining out the door to get a taste of you. And of course, the new bag – he’s bought you plenty, in a wide variety of styles and colors, each gift getting more and more desperate to be the one you finally deem as being good enough to use, but alas.)

Enji doesn’t even bother with a greeting, instead stepping up to the counter, slamming down his credit card and stepping in front of you. I’ll be paying for her sweets. His voice is cold, firm, and sends the clerk into a scurry to process the transaction, meanwhile you’re staring in mild shock from behind the hero.

Of course you’re not surprised – how can you be, when he insists on spoiling you in every possible way? And yet the raw animosity he’s radiating right now can’t be ignored – you get the feeling as if you’re somehow in trouble, though you can’t figure out what for. As soon as the card reader beeps, Enji’s scooping up the card and your sweets, his thick fingers wrapping around your wrist just barely too tightly and marching out the door, telling the clerk over his shoulder to keep the receipt.

It takes every bone in his body to not turn back around and swing at the man behind the counter, his eyes shutting tightly in concentration as he tells himself that it’s not worth it, the media will find out, your reputation will be damaged. But as his eyes peel open and he realizes the way you’re squirming in his grip, he only sighs and releases you, those teal eyes of his appraising you with a frown.

You’re feeling guilty again, unsure of yourself as you gently rub your wrist, and for a moment Enji feels regret – did he hurt you? He hadn’t meant to, he’d just been angry and it was already hard enough to not harm the man who’d made you laugh, and surely you’d understand that he didn’t mean to –

You break the silence before he can voice his concerns, clearing your throat and thanking him in a meek voice. Enji merely nods, a small grunt your only response as he begins walking again, your sweets – and your purse – firmly in his hands, just so that you won’t have to carry them.

When you don’t immediately follow him, Enji pauses, looking back over his shoulder with a brow cocked.

What? Follow me – we have dinner reservations this evening, at that new seafood restaurant by the harbor. Fuyumi tells me it’s quite good; order the crab legs and the caviar.

There’s no room for disagreement in his tone, and for a moment you just blankly gape at him, the situation too strange for you to really process.

But all too soon his eyes are narrowing, and you’re practically tripping over your feet to follow him, keeping your gaze cast downwards as Enji’s hand rests on the small of your back, guiding you even though there’s not a civilian in sight on the desolated sidewalk he leads you down.

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

Honestly, Enji is complicated as a yandere; there’s a part of him that knows that there are aspects of his relationship with you that mirror that of his previous marriage. He knows that although you may not be treated as terribly (and that you have more purpose to him than simply an incubator), you’re still trapped, essentially a slave to his will.

And yet, as time passes and his dependence on you grows stronger, he can’t help but justify his actions, deciding that yes, you may be stuck with him, but at least he spoils you rotten with your favorite foods, expensive clothing and jewels, an unlimited supply for each and every hobby you may have. He may have you trapped between a rock and a hard place in terms of leaving him, but at least he genuinely loves you - he aches to spend time with you, to hold you in his arms, to feel your heartbeat against his ear, your lips against his, your body writhing below his.

He’s convinced himself that this time is different, that you’re different, and as such he eventually decides that it’s really in both your best interests to just relocate you, to get you officially by his side. It’s really paranoia that drives this decision – he’s a working hero and a man with many, many enemies, and so it’s really the only option that keeps you safe.

Stealing you away into his private home – he’s the sole inhabitant, aside from a cleaner or two, since moving out of the Todoroki household – is the best option for a multitude of different reasons. You’re safer this way – the state-of-the-art security systems he’s installed around the estate are the best money can pay for, able to detect intruders and any suspicious activity in the blink of an eye. Enemies don’t have much of a chance of getting inside, and even if they had managed to, Enji will be right there to burn them to a crisp for even daring to get close to his beloved.

And even aside from outside threats, keeping you trapped at home will allow him to keep an eye on you and make sure that you don’t accidentally hurt yourself – you’re ridiculously clumsy to him, your every action having him hold his breath slightly in anticipation, in fear that you’ll somehow trip or fall or bruise your pretty skin. Plus, this way he’ll know that you’re eating healthily and in the right quantities, that you’re getting proper exercise, that you’re relaxing as you should, that you’re spending adequate amounts of time in the interior courtyard he’d prepared in preparation for you.

(It’s beautiful, as loathe as you are to admit it – all kinds of flowers bloom along the walkways, bamboo and tall grasses and trees growing in neat lines and providing shade for the flowerbeds on hot summer days. There’s even a small stream flowing through it, the gentle trickling noise almost enough to cancel out the painful silence that exists between you and Enji when he decides to join you for your scheduled garden time in the afternoons – uninvited, as always, and yet still unable to sense how desperately you wish you’d get these times alone to yourself.)

Aside from your safety, keeping you in his home helps feeds into his domestic fantasies of the two of you – you’re so very precious to him, and from nearly the beginning of his obsession with you, he’s always viewed you as the perfect wife – specifically, the perfect housewife.

He’s a traditional man, believing in traditional gender roles, and although he doesn’t view you as being less-than based upon your status as a woman, he does expect certain things from you. He’s the breadwinner, the strong, capable one who provides you with a roof over your head, food, and any gift under the sun the moment you make even the slightest inclination of wanting it.

And in return, you’re to be his caring, nurturing wife – the one who keeps the house neat and tidy, a room dedicated to only cleaning supplies that you get always stay stocked and ready for you, should you become inspired and wish to fulfill this domestic fantasy of his. The cleaning products are all diluted down to a level that wouldn’t be dangerous if you were to ingest them – you’d get sick, surely, but it’s nothing a home-trip from a doctor who’s been sworn to secrecy can’t handle.

There’s also, unfortunately, a drawer within the room that a particularly bored you had one day opened only to immediately slam it shut. Dozens of cleaning outfits sat neatly folded in the drawer, the black and white getups looking much too tight and much too short. A few weeks later you’d returned to the drawer, bored out of your mind while Enji was away at work, peeling one out with careful and trembling fingers. And of course, to no one’s surprise, the outfit fit like a fucking glove – hugging your curves and accentuating them, the skirt full and flouncy and very easy to flip up, the bustline practically choking your breasts with how tightly the black cotton pressed them together. You’d changed out of it shortly after, the rather disturbing and shameful fleeting question of whether this was the type of thing Enji liked making you too disgusted, guilty, and bashful to really consider.

In his idealized domestic world, you’d cook for him, too, but it takes a very long time for him to trust you enough to not purposefully burn or cut yourself in the kitchen. He has daydreams about coming home from a hectic work day to see you standing over the stove in a cute apron, humming some song and lighting up when you hear the door open and close, his announcement of being home making you practically bounce on your heels.

He wants to have you cook for him, to see you slave in the kitchen putting every ounce of your concentration and time into making him a meal you know he’ll enjoy, but that fantasy has to wait for the time being – just until he thinks you’ve finally lost that rebellious streak of yours, just until you finally come to realize that you belong by Enji’s side.

And so, in the meantime he’ll have you make him small things that hold little potential for you to hurt yourself with – simple sandwiches with pre-sliced ingredients, so that you won’t cut yourself chopping tomatoes or slicing bread. He'll have you prepare a sandwich for him and one for yourself, too, ordering you to sit down at the dining table with him and share a meal – though the conversation is hard to come by, and each attempt he makes at starting it is only met with single word answers from you.

(Another domestic fantasy he harbors but would never tell you about is to have you sitting with him at the table, looking at him with those pretty eyes and your voice dropping to a sultry volume, your chopsticks bringing the food you diligently and loving prepared for him up to his lips, your tone teasing as you tell him to open wide! He’d keep eye contact the whole time he chews, never once breaking it as he tells you in that low, gruff voice of his that it’s perfectly done, the seasoning is impeccable. He wants you to be bashful, to smile and hide it with your hand, your lashes fluttering as you glance at him then back to the food again, too shy to say much but your body language showing just how much his praise effects you, just how good it feels to be the center of his attention, the apple of his eye, his absolute everything.)

He wants you to be his sweet housewife, and although he won’t force you into any of the work, it’s extremely obvious what he wants of you – he’s always telling you about when you get adjusted, how you’ll be more open to fulfilling your role.

When you’re more adjusted, you’ll be happy to iron his clothes; perhaps you’ll spritz a bit of the perfume he buys you onto his shirts, just as a reminder of you during his long days.

(As if he needs a reminder – certainly not, when you’re on his mind nearly every minute of the day.)

When you’re more adjusted, you’ll be pleased to see the positive pregnancy test in your trembling hands, your voice riddled with joy as you announce the good news to him, watching him drop the phone and keys in his hand and instead hoist you into the air, spinning you with a grin on his face so bright it nearly blinds you, concluded with a passionate kiss and a few tears on his cheeks because he just can’t fucking wait to have you as the mother of his child.

It’s all this talk of ‘when this’ and ‘when that’, but the strange thing about Enji as a captor is that he’s incredibly patient with seeing these fantasies come to fruition – sure, he may be forcing you into being a housewife just as he did with Rei, but this is different – you get a choice about some of it, unlike her. You don’t have to do the dishes, but you can if you’d like. You don’t have to bear his children, but you can if you’d like.

(And frankly, it’ll be hard not to – once your need for human contact and your strange, mixed feelings for him grow, you’ll eventually give into his requests for intimacy, and once the floodgates are open, you will end up pregnant from the sheer frequency and volume at which he pumps you full of his cum.)

All that being said, life as Enji’s captive will honestly not be too terrible – he’s still following you around the house like a shadow, but he’ll let you sleep in your own bed at the start, let you have your own bedroom and bathroom, and he won’t even force you into spending time with him at the beginning.

Because really, as tortuous and painful as keeping you away from him is, he repeats the mantra over and over in his head that eventually it’ll be worth it – eventually you’ll see things his way, and eventually you’ll come to see just how deeply his feelings for you run. You’ll realize that he’s only ever loved you, that he cares for you more than any other man possibly could, that he only has your best interests at heart – that’s why he always swung by your apartment at the end of his patrols, peering in at you through your windows, just to make sure you were safe and sound.

That’s why he kidnapped you, to ensure your safety and keep you in the arms of the only man truly capable of providing for you, just as you deserve.

That’s why he’ll never let you escape him, no matter how you beg and plead for your freedom – you don’t understand the outside world like he does. You think you do, but each villain he arrests is a nail in the coffin of your freedom – you have no fucking clue how dangerous the world is, and Enji isn’t hesitant to remind you of this.

You’re unhappy with him? Well, your options are here, in his warm house where he’s willing to give you every ounce of his attention, love, and touch, or out in the big, scary world where women like you are easy targets for men who love destroying easy targets.

So really, you’re in the best hands with Enji – he knows how to take care of you, and he’ll spoil you with every possible treasure you could want. What’s not to be happy about?

PUNISHMENTS:

As a general rule, Enji doesn’t ‘do’ punishments. Because he views his relationship with you as his second try at finding a companion, there is no part of him that actively desires to hurt you. He loves you, in some sick, twisted way that’s much too obsessive and desperate to ever be considered healthy, but it’s still love nonetheless.

And as such, Enji does genuinely want your relationship to be as wholesome and sweet as possible; he wants you to want him, to actively choose to spend your time with him, to want to be in his presence every moment of every day. He wants everything to be as perfect as possible – the idealized life, a life where he’s the number one hero coming home to his lovely wife who cherishes him and he cherishes in return.

And so, when you do something that doesn’t quite line up with this fantasy, Enji is understandably upset. Why can’t you just accept that this is your reality now? Why do you insist on fighting him, even when you know you won’t win? How could you?

He’s Enji Todoroki, Endeavor the Flame Hero, and you’re just you. You’re pretty, of course, and smart and sweet and caring, but you’re still just you. There’s nothing you can do against someone like him – which is why Enji is able to excuse your poor behavior most of the time.

He understands; it’s difficult to accept that you’re weak and powerless, and he understands that when you lash out and act out, you’re just expressing frustration and fear at being taken care of so wholly and completely by someone so much stronger than you. It must be scary, after all – Enji can be so intimidating and he knows it, so he’ll try his absolute best to calm down anytime his anger starts to flare.

The last thing he wants to do is harm you, and he wants everything in your relationship to be as different as possible from that with Rei – and hurting you in any way would too closely resemble his previous marriage, ruining the beautiful illusion he can live under with you.

And so, most of the time Enji is able to grit his teeth and shut his eyes, letting the anger subside by telling himself about all the wonderful things about you – things that always get him feeling calmer, that make the buzzing sensation in his head and the suffocating feeling of anger dissipate. Nine times out of ten, he’s able to calm himself down this way – and if that’s not enough, normally exiting the room and getting a breath of fresh air is enough. He’ll tell himself that he absolutely cannot fall into the same habits he did with Rei – you’re different, you’re special, and he’ll calm himself down as often as he needs to in order to avoid being seen by you as the big, scary man who will hurt you if you disobey him.

Thus, getting Enji angry enough to the point where he can’t simply calm himself down is actually quite difficult – generally, this involves you hurting yourself. Most other things he can twist into seeming not so bad, rather just being you not having adjusted to life as his woman quite yet. He can write off your escape attempts as you still clinging to this ludicrous sense of independence you seem so hellbent on keeping.

Attempts to harm him can be discarded as your misplaced sense of anger at your situation, because although in your heart of hearts he’s sure you’re happy to be in your natural familial setting (as the wife of a strong, capable man of course), you’ve confused yourself by trying to reject something that’s just so right.

Of course these events don’t make him happy, but they’re able to be disregarded – but when your blood is drawn by your own accord, even Enji can’t pretend this is something else. This is you purposefully trying to injure yourself, purposefully trying to show him that you aren’t happy, that you don’t want this – an idea that makes him panic, that sends his fists clenching, that gets him pacing and his mind racing as he tries to figure out how to set you straight without harming you. And so, Enji eventually decides that after he cleans up your injury, rather than simply hitting you

and physically showing you that he won’t stand for this sort of misbehavior, he has to be more restrictive with you. He won’t be so lenient for the days following your bad behavior – you won’t be so spoiled, your rights won’t be so freely handed to you.

You must understand that Enji is charge, and that he’s being generous and loving and kind by allowing you such free reign around your shared home. Really, he doesn’t need to be so generous – and he’ll teach you that an angry Enji is much, much worse than the normal doting, lovesick Enji you’re used to.

Enji is frozen as he opens the front door. He’d come home a bit early from running some errands, the groceries in his hand dropping onto the hardwood floors below him. His jaw is dropped a bit, the sight of your bright red blood staining your forearm making a wave of sickness wash over him.

Who did this?

Who could’ve hurt you like this? There’d been no security alerts while he was gone, and there was absolutely no way that you’d left the interior of this house in the two hours he was gone. In the next breath he’s rushing forward into the kitchen, by your side before you can even blink, paying no mind to the way you gasp and stumble away from him, as if you’re afraid of him.

It makes Enji’s chest ache, but the sight of your blood is too distracting for him to focus on the uncomfortable ache. Instead, he’s thrusting your arm under the kitchen sink, the lukewarm water making you wince ever so slightly as it runs over the wound.

Enji’s brows furrow as he examines your arm; the cuts are long, zigzagging in every direction in a way that looks strange, not like any normal attack pattern he’s seen before. This doesn’t look natural, either – not like a regular scratch, not like you just slipped and fell and had unfortunate luck. No, this looks like something else entirely – like something purposeful, like their appearance marring your pretty skin isn’t accidental in the least. It’s only then that Enji sees the glinting silver fork out of the corner of his eye, sitting on the edge of the counter with a bit of red staining the ends.

Immediately his body is freezing, his grip on your arm squeezing tighter as the gears turn in his mind. You must have…

His jaw flexes as he grinds his teeth, those blue eyes of his slanting over to look at you with such intensity and anger that you physically shrink in on yourself. His grip is too firm for you to pull your arm back, Enji absolutely unwilling to let you run away from this.

Did you do this to yourself?

His voice is surprisingly even, given the look on his face, and immediately you’re shaking your head, your entirely body paralyzed with fear. You’ve never seen Enji look this scary before – or at least not towards you.

Your answer only serves to further anger him, it seems, because soon he’s literally snarling, his face twisted up into this ugly look of rage that’s only heightened by the scar across his eye.

Don’t lie to me, I will always be able to tell when you’re untruthful with me. He pauses, taking a deep breath, his voice just the slightest bit unsteady. Did you do this to yourself?

This time you nod yes, tears prickling at your eyes and starting to spill down your cheeks, and at the sound Enji makes, they only flow faster. He looks like he’s in more pain than you are – his face is red, and a few flames lick up around his shoulders. The heat washes over you, and soon the begs are slipping off your tongue before you can help yourself.

Enji pays you no mind, every ounce of his self-control going towards not slapping you in the face for your blatant stupidity. Soon he’s letting go of your hand, stomping towards the small first aid kit he keeps in the kitchen, entirely silent as he carefully wraps your arm in bandages, not paying your rambling any attention or mind.

As soon as you’re securely bandaged, he leaves the room and you hear the sound of his bedroom door slamming shut reverberating throughout the house.

The rest of the night passes in a blur, with you somehow getting from the floor of the kitchen where you’d laid down and eventually fallen asleep all the way to your bed, with the blankets carefully slotted over your body.

Nothing seems to be amiss the next morning, your footsteps cautious as you approach the bathroom, your brows shooting up when you notice that the counter is completely bare – your toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, and mouthwash are all missing, as are all the expensive lotions and facial scrubs Enji normally keeps in piles for your convenience.

The kitchen is empty, too, you notice – the silverware drawer is completely empty, and there are no cups or mugs of any sort in any of the cupboards. It’s unnerving, and immediately you’re getting goosebumps all over your body, the air feeling prickly and cold, as if there’s something lurking that you don’t know about. Biting your lip, you make your way to the table, gingerly sitting down and trying not to jostle the bandages too much – the bandages that had been changed, you distantly notice.

A few minutes later, Enji joins you in the kitchen, his expression not exactly jovial, but not particularly hostile. He greets you as he normally does, before placing the mug you now notice is in his hand under sink. The sound of rushing water gets your mouth watering, not having realized how thirsty you were until this moment.

Wide eyes watch him turn towards you, making his way to your seated figure with slow, heavy steps that get your heart thudding in his chest. He stops right next to you, before telling you to open your mouth. Hesitantly, you do as he says, jerking slightly when his fingertips – always unnaturally warm – cup your chip and bring the cup up to your lips, the water cold as you’re forced to drink it.

Enji watches with neutral eyes, though you see the corner of his lip curl up slightly as you drink the entire glass, the pacing of the water flow nearly too much and nearly choking you. Soon it’s gone, and Enji uses his thumb to wipe at the corner of your lips.

Since yesterday’s little spectacle has shown me that you can’t be trusted with basic household supplies, let me know if you require another drink, if you’d like to brush your teeth, or if you’d like to wash your hair. You obviously can’t do it alone, so I will be joining you. Now, go lay down on the couch. I need to change your wrappings again.

You’re dumbfounded, watching him keep the mug in his grasp as he heads towards the living room. And though the threat seems too extreme, Enji means it – you only last a few hours before you reluctantly ask for another drink, your throat too dry and sore to go without it.

And that night, when you shamefully ask him for your toothbrush, you’re not particularly pleased to find out that he’ll be the one brushing your teeth, using his very own toothbrush to get the job done, just to make sure you don’t even think about trying to choke yourself with the brush.

(And when you finally have to shower, well, Enji’s face turns bright red when you ask, rushing to his feet much too quickly, grasping your hand and practically pulling you to the bathroom before applying all sorts of soaps and scents to the bath he draws for you. His breath is hitched as he turns around so you can change in privacy, but don’t be surprised to see him sneaking glances at your bare body beneath the water’s bubbly surface. Don’t be surprised when later that night you hear a suspiciously rhythmic thumping sound and muffled groans through the wall that your bedrooms share, the faintest wet, squelching noise accompanying them.)

And, roughly a week later when you wake up to the cups and mugs back in the cupboard and your shampoo back in the shower, you’ll decide against hurting yourself anytime soon. It’s not worth it – not if that’s how you’ll be treated; forced to ask permission for your basic needs.

And Enji couldn’t be more pleased – now you’ll think twice about using that fork again, or anything else for that matter.

(And he can still force you into using his toothbrush – under the guise of furthering your bond and intimacy, of course. And because he’ll use it after you, savoring the feeling of the bristles against his tongue like some sort of drug.)

OVERALL DANGER:

7/10

Enji isn’t necessarily dangerous, but rather inevitable.

He’s a determined man, driven by motivation for his goals, no matter the methods he uses to get there. And once he sets his sights on you, deciding that he wants you, that he loves you, you’re certainly no different – he will have you, and there’s not a single thing you can do about it. He’s a force to be reckoned with, and really, what sway do you have?

He’s a professional hero, known in the public sphere responsible for saving more lives than you could ever hope to, and who are you? You’re just a pretty face, a woman who happened to have the exact set of traits and physical appearance that Enji finds desirable – you have no real way to combat him, and who would believe you, anyway? Enji is the new symbol of peace – as far as the Commission is concerned, he can have whatever the hell he wants, and if that one thing is some civilian, then you can kiss your freedom goodbye.

But really, all things considered, Enji isn’t too terrible – he’s trying desperately to right his wrongs, to love you in a way that prioritizes your happiness and is just better, and although you’re certainly not happy being trapped by his side, he can at least pretend like this is better.

He wants you to be his pretty little thing, to be his housewife and treat him like your devoted, loving husband. He wants you to greet him with a kiss on the lips when he comes home from work, helping him out of his jacket and asking about his day, then lead him into the clean kitchen where you’ve got dinner waiting for him, then join him in the shower and then the bed, letting his hands wander to where they please, then fall asleep on his chest, letting him feel like he’s protecting you even in his sleep.

Is that really so much to ask for? Enji thinks not – besides, isn’t that the dream for you?

All you have to do is let him take care of you, to spoil you with flowers and chocolates and jewelry and all sorts of things that make women swoon. You’ll be spoiled rotten, treated like a goddess, and all you have to do is let Enji make all the decisions for you, to let him take control of your life and your future – it’s better this way, he promises.

This way, you’ll be properly cared for, kept safe and secure and comfortable by his side. You may not see it yet, but Enji is sure this is really what you want – you’ll come around eventually, he’s sure of it.

And if you don’t? Well, at least he’s not a monster, right?

#yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere enji todoroki #yandere endeavor #_lee's profiles #_enji todoroki #_bnha #endeavor x reader #enji todoroki x reader

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mikareo · 10 months

Text

“ ࣭⸰ ★ GARDEN SONG . . . ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ブルーロック ; itoshi rin x fem reader (6.8k)

⊹ ⠀⠀ rin's never been in love. he's never had the right to fall in love. so when sae is betrothed to a foreign princess, he doesn't bat an eye. you're just like every other girl who's attempted to marry his half-brother; yet, for some odd reason, he can't seem to shake you off. his heart aches thinking of you, despite how heated you make his head. he hates you. no. he loves you. no. rin doesn't know what he feels.

contains; royalty au, e2l, sfw, bastard prince!rin, princess!reader, reader is betrothed to sae, slowburn, rin calls reader names (like lowkey sexist sometimes), lots and lots of worldbuilding (bear with me please), forbidden love, swearing?, some sexual innuendos, kind of like...medieval dialogue??, tw rin literally calls reader a breeding ground like..., reader is very princess kaguya coded, some princess kaguya references near the end author's note; literally dropping this out of nowhere sorry lol :3 i think this is my best piece of writing i've like ever produced so pls give it a chance n enjoy it! i rewrote the whole thing today in present tense,, so there might be tense errors

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀this part of the fic is about 2 1/2 years old ⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀originally a keiji akaashi fic,, lmk any name errors ⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀extremely descriptive worldbuilding writing,, (heads up) if it's not ur thing then u likely won't enjoy reading this ⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀will have a second part titled swan song in the future!

It’s humorous to Rin— the perception that titles and notability have complete control over one’s life, obligations, and status. The pure and blind belief that every problem or issue can be solved with a man on the throne; a man whose birthright has always stated that that is where he belongs. Where he’ll rule and live out his days, utterly unhappy and self-sacrificing all for the benefit of people, his people, that he doesn’t even know. Strangers. Where he’ll wear a weighted crown encrusted in sapphires and jade, bound to strands of hair that’ll be ripped out if he dare defy his solemn promise to protect his kingdom. The crown must always be worn with pride and honor— the two things in the unspoken king’s code that every man of status is expected to follow— two simple things that seem impossible in Rin’s eyes.

Yes, he’s been raised according to the precept of manners and fulfillment of duties, but there’s something of the way his own father seems so distant and disconnected from the world around him— from the connections and relationships that he should be closer with— that makes the idea of being emperor completely disheartening. It’s completely and utterly horrid to Rin when he compares a life of golden chains to his dreams of travel and adventure.

It’s for the best that he’s nothing but a bastard child, then.

Prince Rin of the Itoshi family is nothing if not a black sheep. He’s a man who gentlemen aren’t envious of and whom women never lust for. He’s simply a royal with no drive, no meaning to motives or dreams, and no purpose to carry him onwards. Fortune and prosperity have never and will never be the necessary materials for his happy ending— but freedom and individualism, two contrasting colors amidst blocks of the same shade, speak his language. For in his situation, there’s no point in slaving away his natural qualities in hopes of gaining an ounce of respect from his parents.

The second born bastard child is but a shadow of a man when he stands behind the true heir—his half brother, Sae. The golden child, the pure-bred son of the true royal bloodline coming from their shared father’s genes. Sae, the future Emperor of Japan.

An emperor who’s bound to be married off to an unsuspecting princess who’s just recently come of age, and live happily ever after with their countless children. It sounds positively dreadful, doesn’t it? A life that’s been bestowed upon all of the men that have come before Sae— a life void of real love and connection, one that pleasures the theory of bountiful rulings in retrospect to genuine happiness. A life that Rin has never wanted for himself, and has been lucky enough to avoid.

But as his brother stands opposite to him, with his head held high as he’s about to meet his betrothed for the very first time, Rin feels pity.

It’s a sorrowful sight for Sae and the predicament that he’s been cornered into, but Rin knows his brother does not want his comfort. Their broken bond has been laced with new threads of sadness after years and years of competition— yet, everyone still deserves a choice in their future, in their loved ones, and that choice is being taken away from the crowned prince with every second ticking by.

Tick.

The time is now.

As the courtroom doors burst open, gold and silver accents vanish from sight. Five guests gracefully enter the palace— that of two guards, a handmaiden, a king, and the most important arrival…you. You, the princess of the neighboring royal family from the South. The royal family that will be merging with Rin’s father’s in a legal binding between you and Sae— the infamous royal wedding of the century.

“What an honor it is.” Emperor Itoshi greets your father with a firm stare.

The two men analyze one another, squaring out in a power strike before stepping forwards for a decisive handshake. As their palms clap together, Rin can see that this king is much different than his father— seemingly gentle, showcasing a non-plastic smile that’s true and bright whilst his daughter stands behind him— and Emperor Itoshi smiles back. “It’s truly spectacular to finally meet you; well, you and the princess, of course.”

At his words, your father grins and extends his arm out to you, encouraging you to step away from your trusted handmaiden and towards your future father-in-law— the man who’s retiring his lifelong title in a mere two months for the sake of passage that’s occurred for centuries. A sacred passage between fathers and sons, full blooded fathers and sons.

“Your majesty,” you bow your head.

As you curtsy in respect, your skirt drapes to the floor— the gown’s extravagance dusting the marble tiles, shimmering beneath the dense candlelight, and reflecting off the mirror and shined surfaces scattered across the ballroom. Despite the perception of beauty and grace that his father and brother seem to share for you, Rin peaks through the cracks of your facade. He can tell this regal persona you’re displaying is nothing but an act. Your stoic expression speaks all he needs to know, that everything about you is princess protocol and lacking personality, and proper folk have never been his usual cup of tea.

While he’s been ordered to entertain ladies of the court and women in the social ring for years-on-years, there wasn’t one occurrence where he actually obeyed his father’s demands— rather string along every maiden sent his way and bid them farewell after a night or two of endless, droning conversation; that and perhaps a few turns in and out of his bed chambers, which is a fact that is infamous among the palace staff. Rin disregards them, though. Tuning others out is his speciality. He uses it in daily conversation, diplomatic meetings, as well as other important matters such as the one happening now, right in front of him. Just a few feet away.

This is pointless.

Why is he being forced to be here?

It’s not like you're his bride.

Rin doesn’t even bother to tune into the presumptuous meeting of you and Sae. They don’t involve him in any way nor does he care for either of you. Typically, most others don’t give him the time of day, so who’s to say that they deserve it from him? The only thing he owes to others is his mere existence as the kingdom’s greatest mistake— all to remind the ton that there is a good and gracious prince, and they should be grateful that he is to be their ruler and not Rin.

Rin, whose birthright is to stand still and respond to his father’s wishes with no choice other than to agree.

So, as the decadence concludes with the bowing of heads and nods of approval dispersing amongst royals and servants, Rin thinks nothing of the way you and Sae stand beside one another in light conversation.

It’s desperate. The sight of you attempting to find a sliver of mutual interest or some sort of connection that binds the two of you other than royalty, makes him look in disdain. He’s grateful that he won’t be the one spending the rest of his already grey life with you, ruling the kingdom.

You aren’t really his type.

“Rin!” Sae’s voice rings through the courtroom, his eyebrows raise in expectancy as he ushers his half-brother towards his bride-to-be, wanting to introduce the two that’re going to be living in close proximity for the weeks to come. “Do come close, I’d like you to meet my bride. Perhaps you’ll find something in common and make a friend for once, for this girl can’t be another one of your whores.”

Typical Sae.

Whether the dig was intentional or unintentional, Rin grimaces at his brother’s words—pursing his lips into a tight smile and closing his eyes in an attempt to disguise his disdain with faint exhaustion.

“Apologies, my brother. I’m afraid I’m rather tired and would prefer to return to my quarters.” Rin nods towards the two of you in respect. “Do enjoy her company, yourself. I’m sure the two of you will be sharing personal physical matters in the near future— best to be comfortable.”

With a quick turn of his heel, he carries on, making his way towards the exit of the throne room, to his grand living quarters— quarters that are fit for a bastard prince such as himself. However, his rancid suggestions aren’t left unanswered, instead contemplated by you as he hears your light voice speak to his brother. Rin hates first impressions. Not because he gets anxious or worried about being disliked; but because he already knows whoever he’s speaking to already knows his history. They know the truth of his bloodline, and they’re never afraid to step on his already small ego. You’re no different.

“So the rumors are true then?”

You speak aloud in a low tone, deciding the best words to use, and phrasing your statements in the most respectful manner you can muster— not wanting to offend Sae in any way, shape, or form while you address his little brother.

“Your brother is not the royal he’s made out to be?” As your voice trails off, regret immediately overcomes you as the subject of conversation stops dead in his tracks.

A scoff escapes his lips, head tilting to the left as your remark settles beneath his skin— hitting that special little spot that enrages every buried emotion, feeling, and reaction in his heart.

Rin spins on his heel with a manic look on his face as he analyzes the regret hidden in your weary posture; which is in great contrast to the confidence and poise you’d displayed a mere seconds before— poise that appears to be only a facade, a mystery that he’d gladly uncover if he actually cared just an ounce about your wellbeing. Taking long strides towards you, ignoring the words of concern from his half-brother, he stops to a halt at your feet— giving you nowhere to avert your eyes, gaze being forced to rest on his anger and distaste only. The rage bubbling in the pit of his stomach is like an over-boiling copper pot, scorching water taunting the brink of the lid, causing it to fly off and wreak havoc elsewhere.

“Tell me, princess.” He ponders mockingly, finding great humor in how tense he was able to make you with three simple words.

“What is it that you make me out to be?”

There’s a shit-eating grin at the tip of his tongue, a taunting aura to his spite. Perhaps there’s a part of him that hopes your response will be genuine, positive to the darkness that’s held to his head on a daily basis— but no matter. He already knows what your misconceptions contain. He knows that you’d already filed him away in the troublesome cabinet at the back of your brain. It’s almost like he’s looking at an average cavern girl with great beauty. You’d be nothing without the small tiara on your head, that’s clear after determining the lack of assertiveness you assume.

…but perhaps, for once, Rin is wrong.

Not a single response emits from your mouth, the silent stare down between glaring eyes being intimidating enough; there’s absolutely no way you were going to anger the bastard prince any further. Yes, he’s considered to be nothing but a brute, but there’s something in his sparks of blue that makes you believe otherwise.

This man is an underestimated enigma, and you sure as hell aren’t going to be one of those common fools who blindly thinks otherwise.

“Your brother tells me you are a good man.” you speak enunciating each word to ensure that it gives its intended effect, that being of a derogative nature masked with falsified kindness and fortitude. “He says that your people adore you, that you are one in the same. Grounded. Of level head.” Bullshit.

Sae would never say those things.

The people would never say those things.

Rin scoffs, listening to the meaningless and unoriginal acclamations being brought to his attention, tired of having to hear them day after day by not only his fellow royals, but staff and peasants— and every other person who’s ever been fortunate enough to cross paths with the royal family, always being disappointed that he is the one to be met.

As he steps closer, wanting to see just an ounce of fear in your eyes, a frown is brought to his beautiful features. What?

In no way are you intimidated by his presence. There’s no shudder, no wince, no flinching whilst his steps grow closer and closer to your position. Just a blank stare of nothingness at his furrowed brows. You aren’t reacting like the other princesses that’ve come to attempt to wed Sae; all princesses who have come and gone due to Rin’s dark intimidation. You have spirit, a fire that’s not willing to be doused by his ocean of hatred.

“Are these your words?” he interrogates.

One of his hands reaches out to brush a stray strand of hair behind your right ear, noticing the tomato red of your cheeks. Smirking, he thinks to himself how dismantled you likely are beneath your stoney stance. “Or are these all of the things my brother has told you? Do you have any thoughts of your own, princess?”

“No need to answer that. I already know what you think of me.” Continuing on, deaf to the attempted precautions from Sae, he leans in— his lips just ghosting over yours, and whispers his final remarks.

“You’re an open book, beautiful— and I can’t say that I'd ever want to read you.”

So, as Prince Itoshi Rin’s steps recede, the distance between you two grows with every second; and you feel a bright, red, rage bubbling deep within your heart. It’s a hot and heavy anger simmering within your soul for the sly man with dark hair— knowing full well that he will be one of the many, if not the biggest, challenge you’ll face in your newfound kingdom.

And never before, have you felt more ready to take on a challenge.

Annoyance is the most prominent emotion Rin has felt in the past two weeks.

Utter disdain at the sight of you and Sae conversing through the courtyard, picking flowers in the rose garden, and taking romantic boat rides in the nearby lake. It’s one thing to fall in love, feel your heart begin to swell at the physical presence of that one special person— but it’s another to have to witness first-hand with no relation to the budding romance at all. Having no need to be involved in the newfound relationship, yet still being forced to interact as a third party member. It’s absolute madness.

He’s somewhat happy for Sae, he truly is. There’s a sense of pride in his soul at the sight of his half-brother stepping up to the position that he’s been in preparation for for all of his life— but with that promotion comes you.

With the rise of power comes your completely lethargic presence.

Oh how he cannot stand you.

You’re just insufferable. You’re unapologetically and unequivocally insufferable to his mind. The mere sound of your voice sends him into a downward spiral. The mere thought of your existence ruins his day with ease. The slightest mention of your life-lasting role in the kingdom he’d grown up in ignites the most powerful feeling of disgust he’s ever known. The weight of his conscience burns with every snarky remark, dig, and insult that flies from your throat; your trained grace never falling scarce in melody, although your words could be considered crude by any proper lady. Words that allow you to terrorize his brain in the midst of night, keeping him awake whilst the moon becomes one with the sun.

He fully believes that you were created to be the bane of his existence…the hell to his heaven…the demon behind all corners in the everlasting game that he has the misfortune of living.

“You’re looking a little grey today, Rin.”

Oh no…

“Perhaps it’d be wise to freshen up a bit!”

Please, just shut up.

“I’m sure the servants won’t mind spending a few hours by your side in an attempt to make you look handsome!”

He hates that damn sound.

There it is. The dreadful sound of your sing-song voice ringing through the hallowed halls, emptying the painfulness of your personality in the wake of the morning dew— as for some god awful reason, you always insist on being the first person to the dining hall, wanting to mark each new day with a classic and large Japanese breakfast.

“As I’ve said many-a-times before, princess.” His head swivels to face you, eyes rolling at the skip in your step. “You are to refer to me as Prince Rin, it is what I prefer.”

“Is it your honored title or is it what you personally enjoy?” you challenge, looking over your shoulder with a mocking pout, having the knowledge that he has certainly come to despise you in the short time you’ve known one another. “Greatest apologies, my liege; but it wouldn’t be proper of me, a woman, to call you, a man, a name that isn’t of great decadence.”

“Surely you can see where my true intentions lie?”

A pained grin comes to shine on his features, shooing away the rain clouds and allowing sparse rays of phony sunshine to shower you. His teeth bite his bottom lip as he struggles to keep his curses imprisoned between his heart and his tongue. You had to have been born of a despicable nature. In no world that is right, in no paradise would anyone deserve the punishment of having to know you— as Rin believes all tyrants belong with the street rats. Not to insinuate you’re a tyrant, but to express that you’re equivalent to a sickly rodent.

“I’m not a fool, you know.” he spits, striding towards your retreating figure and grabbing you by the forearm and stopping you in your tracks. Rin smirks as his touch forces you to become overwhelmed in shock. “I see you, princess. I see through your poise and ladylike mannerisms. I can see what a lonesome and sorrowful shadow you’ll inevitably become. No wonder you’re going to be nothing but an objectified woman, an accessory to Sae’s power— a dull little doll of a woman who perhaps had moxie in her past— yet still became a lifeless puppet beneath a bejeweled tiara, stuck with the hands of judgment up her arse.”

You’re a fool to go toe-to-toe with him, of all people.

Rin doesn’t think he’s ever seen such fire behind your eyes. Fire that burns hot, raging with seething anger and humiliation. If the world were to be supernatural, there’s no doubt in his mind that you’d have set it aflame in response to his vile predictions; the castle crumbling in ash with you standing alone in its wake atop his lifeless corpse that’s burnt to a crisp.

“You are entirely incorrect, never have I shown servitude for the sake of reputation—”

“Really?” his snarling voice interrupts you, refusing to let you get a single word in amidst his long-winded attack. “Then what is it that you’re doing right now, at this very moment. No princess with a functioning brain would ever find herself working with kitchen servants to prepare breakfast for two royal families. She’d simply order them to do it on their own. Every single thing you do is in order to gain likability from those who shouldn’t ever matter. If you had a backbone of any sort, you’d understand that— and you’d understand that titles are of nothing. They’re of no relation to any true purpose or meaning.”

“Then what are you?” you retaliate, ending the lengthy trail of hurtful words and confessions spewing from his mouth. “What are you but a sorry excuse of a prince…of a son?”

“You say titles are rubbish, yet you continue to wear that horrendous crown atop your hair. You choose to take it off of your placid vanity and wear it with honor; although you aren’t much of an honorable man, are you? If you were, then perhaps you’d have a grain of respect from your people. Perhaps you would spend your days in the throne room, being in the advisory alongside your brother— your splendid and valiant brother who has done nothing but serve for the greater good— instead of dallying away with mundane and useless tasks that no one cares to notice! As why would anyone bat an eye at a mistake, when they could be focused on someone like Sae. Someone of the sun’s decadence?”

The face opposite to yours is almost unrecognizable; with his red skin, flared nostrils, and dead-set eyes, Rin looks as if he’s just murdered a man out of spite and grief. He looks as if he’s just induced a homicide and is preparing to start anew, find another victim…that victim undoubtedly being you.

He tips his head downwards, breath grazing against your upper hairline whilst his dark crown shifts in his hair— nearly falling off the front of his forehead, the large arches seem ominous and unwelcoming along with the deadly ocean depths of his eyes. The usual gem-like blues holding a more dangerous tone than a tsunami.

Rin knows he’s frightening…

…and he’s enjoying it.

“You speak on things you know nothing of.” Rin fakes a straight toothed smile; his outside appearance looking completely opposite to the growing pit at the bottom of his stomach. If the peasant’s freak show has come to the kingdom, he’ll be the opening act—a fraudulent performer behind a mask of stoney emotions. “I have freedom and opportunity. If I so wanted, I could order a horse to be prepared, ride through those gates, and never look back. There is nothing holding me here— not my father, my brother, or the people. When will you realize how little your beliefs matter to me.”

He’s boiling with rage, as are you whilst his words ring truer than you’d like to admit; each one hitting the most insecure corners of your heart. “Your meaningless and unimportant opinions in relation to my kingdom— when in reality, you’re simply another black plague that’s washed upon its shores. Another person who’s crawled out of the local sewers and weaseled their way into the generous hands of the royal family. It’s just so unfortunate...”

“...that in the end, you’re nothing but a breeding ground for my brother.”

On instinct, without a coherent thought in your mind, you feel your arm swing out— open palm flying through the air, only to land against the dark prince’s swelling cheeks— leaving not only a bright, red mark, but also an expression of identical shock on both of your faces.

Taking a step back, he reaches upwards to cup the bruise only to realize that you’ve done far more damage than a measly purple wound. You’ve managed to produce a cut, one that seeps through his scarlet blossoms and runs from the corner of his eye to the bottom of his chin; displaying the path of your anger whilst your ring-studded hand has directed itself across his face.

Raindrops of ruby pour from the injury as you stare in horror at your blood splattered engagement ring.

The shimmering diamond turns dark as the tide of rouge rolls in, encasing the notion of property beneath your outspoken and unintentional hatred for Rin; and before you’re given a chance to respond, a second to apologize, the man has already stalked off towards his living quarters— not wanting to see the look of expected satisfaction on your face at the sight of his uncontrollable winces. You don’t deserve to smug as he rests in pain— despite how you are, in truth, regretful of what you’ve done.

Though, not that he’ll ever come to that conclusion.

As why would you, someone in the same likable ranks as a weathered gargoyle have any intent of remorse. Why would you, a woman who would soon have all the power in the world to hold over his head, care about a lasting scratch; no matter how deep.

You’re a tyrant, and oh-how he loathes a tyrant.

A garden of statues would perhaps have more purpose than Rin in his current predicament— standing between his father and half-brother, listening in on the up-and-coming preparations for the royal wedding; whilst even the breaths he takes are ignored, lost in a sea of ignorance and invisibility. Emperor Itoshi gleams with pride, his mindset focused on the change of power— the crown on his head that will soon be worn by his eldest son, the one of pure royal blood. Yet, with the happiness in his heart, his smile only reaches so far; never shedding light on the tundra that consumes his bastard child.

“Rin!” The man hollers beside him as he grasps Sae’s shoulder in a love-bound strength; his god-given touch of a father being miles-on-miles away from the fragile prince who needs it most. “Look at the life your brother’s going to make for himself! Witnessing him amidst the coronation will be splendid—”

“Remind me again, father.” Rin interrupts, not wanting to hear a minute more of the relentless doting. It’s night and day, a never ending string of praise and compliments, all for the great, Sae. “Where is it that I am to be for the duration of these wondrous festivities? I don’t believe I’ve heard spoken word of that as of yet.”

A wave of ignorance acts upon itself through his father’s careless hand, dismissing the trivial concerns of his youngest son; his heart only having enough room for one soul other than himself. “I suppose you’ll stand with the castle staff, it’s likely we have a limited space at the head of the church due to the size of our friends' traveling blood.”

The castle staff?

He’s to stand with lowly servants?

Rin doesn’t know why he feels so shocked, after all, he should’ve been expecting to be cast aside with those of low status. While his title associates himself with the royal lineage, he’ll never truly be accepted into the upper class— that divide has always been inflicted upon him by his own father.

“So, I am not to be in our primary aisle? I am not to have a sliver of sight at Sae’s crowning?”

There’s a hint of spite in his tone, a spite that was usually hidden from the eardrums of others, revealing itself to the people who’d known it was lurking for decades. While Sae simply disconnects himself from the conversation, a privilege that he’s lucky to have, refusing to meet his younger brother’s eyes— their father pushes further. He’s well aware of the growing insecurities his bastard child has, but he also knows how to obliterate the subject in its entirety.

“You aren’t pure.” His voice is stoney and directed at Rin whilst gesturing to Sae, as he shakes his head at his least favorite son. “I can’t possibly have you, a boy I conceived with a gutter whore, stand at the equal sides of neighboring royalty. It would be seen as disgraceful.”

This isn’t the first time Rin’s heard these words.

“You are a disgrace.”

His father tells him these things often.

“All you are is a physical representation of my shame, boy. You’ve already embraced the darkness—it’s about time you allow the shadows to consume you whole.”

That doesn’t lessen the pain, though.

With that, Kyohei turns away and grasps Sae’s arm, leading him towards their higher chambers; ones that Rin has never been honored to walk upon. There are no glances, no solemn, not a single look back by his father to perhaps ensure that his son is somewhat okay or devastatingly upset— though, neither one is true. The only emotion racing through the thick blood in his veins is emptiness. Just the familiar feeling of being worth absolutely nothing in the eyes of the man who should see him as the world. From the beloved emperor that cares for nameless peasants and civil servants, his father is seen as just and valiant— his true nature of disdain and cruelty only being known by his immediate family.

So as he walks alone, with no council weighing down on his heart, no angel on his shoulder, and no devil in the ranks— Rin is blind to the world around him. He chooses to maintain blindness in relation to any matter that seems regal and of importance. Since, after all, who is he to state a claim on that significance…

…when he, himself, has no significance at all?

His feet move on autopilot, like a white pawn at the match’s first mark. As if there’s a knife at his throat, forcing him to play down the chessboard— across the bi-colored tiles and towards the blackened queen. Him being a simple sacrifice; one of many to ensure a victory, no matter the underlying consequences. No matter the fact of how he’ll never hear the final calling, the call of wind inducing the fallen king and victorious player— as he’ll be far too acquainted with death to rise back from the shattered stone. A small sense of relief overcomes him as he steps into the courtyard. His soul is satisfied and alleviated at the location his muscle memory has taken him. While the twilight moon is nearing, his mind is awake; fully conscious and stormy of his own self-doubt and insecurities. Two things that can typically only be dissolved by his favorite location on the castle grounds.

The secluded lake amidst the willow trees. It shimmers and glistens beneath the draping branches, and acts as a hub of life and growth. His secret spot is possibly the most beautiful feature in the kingdom, at least Rin feels so; with its evening flowers and low-light critters, the soft grass and blossoming lily pads, and the perfect view of Andromeda— it’s his safe haven.

A safe haven that he prefers to keep to himself.

A place that no other person has stepped foot in for as long as he’d known of its existence.

A place that has just now been infiltrated by the disguised cockroach that is you.

“You torment me day and night within the walls of my own home; yet you still find it necessary to follow me as if you’re a lost duckling during ungodly hours.” he deadpans, shaking his head at the sight of your furrowed brows and taking a seat at the bay. Rin sighs deeply as his calloused skin comes in contact with the grassy fibers. “A proper princess would be in her chambers by the time midnight struck. It’s nearly 12:30, princess.”

Why are you looking at him like that?

The strange look on your face is laced with some sort of emotion that he’s never seen before. It's buried beneath the layers of organic makeup and skin. He can only assume it’s something similar to discomfort, and despite your intentional mask being well kept— he can see through anyone. He has the rare ability to understand the thickest of thieves, as he, himself, is the biggest phony of them all.

The sparse shadows soften your usually antagonized features in his mind, a more human appearance alleviating in its wake; and Rin swears he sees a tear drip from your right eye, swimming down your cheeks, and dropping off at your chin into the dewey land— becoming one with nature’s true beauty. The earth embraces your unexplained sadness with open arms, blowing the willow branches around your body. In a strange way, Rin thinks this is the first time he’s truly seen you as what you are. A princess. You’re beautiful beneath the moonlight, but perhaps it isn’t your physical beauty that’s catching his eye…but your emotional vulnerability.

“Dearest apologies, my liege.” you mutter, voice droning on with not a sliver of spite in your tone; only exhaustion. “I’m afraid that I’m not much of a proper princess, tonight. If you’d prefer it, I’d be more than welcome to leave you be— perhaps I’d regain some of my lost dignity in doing so.”

He studies you for a moment, his eyes grazing your posture, the physical habits you display on the daily are missing beneath the moon’s kisses. All that’s left in its disappearance is a small-spoken and sadness-consumed girl. A girl that’s tired and painstakingly sick of the expectations and predecessors that she’s been forced to live up to by birth…and as much as he hates to admit it, even just to himself, he’s found a similar identity in you. A familiarity he’s never quite noticed before.

“Stay.” His voice is so faint that even he is surprised at his statement.

“Perhaps we’ll both freeze to death.” he continues on, feigning the annoyance he typically spits in your direction. “I’d quite enjoy seeing your ghastly face covered in ice.”

While Rin believes his offering to be nothing out of the ordinary, your expression tells otherwise. It’s clear that you’re able to read through the misconceptions he’s trying to give you; looking straight into his eyes with an amused gleam and giggling softly in response. He’s never made a princess laugh before— usually the only girls he spends one-on-one time with are the tavern girls who wish to sleep with a prince— and he’d be a liar to say he didn’t like the sound. You have a beautiful laugh and Rin hangs onto every second it continues to carry through the wind. Perhaps he’s been misjudging you just as you misjudged him. Perhaps you’re not like the others.

“I’m sure you would, Rin.” you smile, sitting down next to him on the plush comfort of uncut grass. “But I have had such an awful day, that I don’t think there’s anything you can say to me that will make it worse.” An awful day?

“May I ask what happened?” Why does he suddenly care?

“Yes, you may.” Why do you want to tell him?

A sigh breathes out of your lips, whistling in the wind and getting lost in the space of stars. “I’m a lousy princess.”

He chuckles, shaking his head and nudging your shoulder. There’s no way that you, little miss prim and proper, are a bad princess. You’re practically the model that every father bases his daughter on when raising her in a royal setting; he knows because he’s met his fair share of truly lousy princesses. “No you’re not.”

“Yes I am.” you’re not looking at him anymore, rather at the constellation ceiling above you. The stars reflect themselves in your eyes, and if you weren’t a princess on earth, Rin would think you were a gift from the moon himself. “I could barely keep up with Prince Sae today. We had dance rehearsals for the wedding, and our instructor is so strict that I can barely breathe around her without being reprimanded. I couldn’t even memorize the basic steps, I don’t know what is wrong with me. I have practically been training for this duty for my entire life and I can’t remember a few dances? I’m not fit to be a queen. I just turned eighteen, I’ve barely lived at all. How can I protect an entire kingdom, when I cannot even fend for myself?”

“Prince Sae is perfect. He’s amazing. I can’t possibly be enough to be his wife. I can’t live up to those standards. It’s impossible.”

Suddenly, all of the broken pieces seem to come together. They’re swept by a broom, one that the moon king holds above the two of you, as your shattered stars of insecurities collide into one pile of stardust. Rin sees himself in you. He sees himself from a perspective that he’s never known before. Never in his life has he met someone who understands and agrees that royal duties are impossible; usually common folk and other royals tell him what an honor it is to be of a royal bloodline. They don’t care or consider his feelings on having to be held to a higher standard, while also being at a disadvantage as a bastard child. You are different. He knows you won’t judge him for these fears he has; a small part of him trusts you now.

“My brother is a golden boy.” Rin smiles at you, and it’s the first genuine smile he’s ever given someone. “Please do not take it too personally if you cannot live up to his excellence.”

You gaze at him in appreciation, scooting slightly closer while keeping a healthy balance that wouldn’t ensue romantic implications. “Thank you. I can’t even begin to imagine how difficult it must be for you, though. How do you handle all of this? I can barely keep my head above water.”

Wow…you’re the first person who’s ever asked how he feels.

“It’s difficult,” he explains, “but manageable. I’ve only ever known this life, so I’m quite used to being at the end of the line so-to-speak. My brother— I’m not sure why I even call him that, he’s not my brother, I’m sorry. My half-brother is the kingdom’s blessing. He’s my father’s blessing. He’s perfect like you said; but his destiny isn’t his own. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

Your head shakes in confusion, not quite understanding where his story is going.

“I’m sorry, I’ve never spoken of these feelings before; at least not out loud to someone other than my own mirror.” His human instinct shuffles himself closer to you, wanting that physical comfort whilst knowing that he can never have it. “I’m not unhappy that I am not the one to be emperor. I would rather be a bastard, because at least I have freedom to run away one day without worrying about feeding the masses and avoiding war. I can leave this kingdom and not have to think about my father or Sae ever again. That’s the one luxury I have always had— and it’s the one thing that I look forward to. I’m so sorry that you don’t have that same privilege.”

Nothing comes as a response and Rin feels a little concerned, that is until your soft voice reaches his ears.

“I’m sorry for being so difficult towards you.”

You’re apologizing?

“I don’t regret anything, though.”

That makes more sense.

Another laugh bubbles up from the pits of his soul, setting off the volcano of amusement that’s been dormant for so long. “You’re a tyrant princess, my kingdom should be more weary of you.”

You giggle beside him, “Tyrant princess sounds more fun than disciplined empress.”

Maybe he’s gone mad or maybe the chilling breeze has gotten to his brain and made him delusional, but Rin feels his heart pounding— and not in the familiar way of anger and aggression. This rapid heartbeat is something warmer…fonder…gentler. If he’s not mistaken, he believes it to be the warmth that comes with falling in love; something that he’s only read about and wished for when he does eventually run away from home. However, he never believed he’d find that feeling within the palace walls— especially with you, whom he despised prior to this night. He promised himself he’d never fall for another royal, but his destiny is shaping itself in ways that are unpredictable.

He should thank the man in the moon.

Rin stands, dusting off his pants, before offering you a hand. It’s an earnest gesture, one that you cannot ignore, and he’s vulnerable with his sincerity. “I can’t promise that I hold any skills near to my brother, but I swear on my soul that I won’t push you into that lake if you give me one dance.”

“Just one?” your tone is teasing, yet you accept his offer. The feeling of your hand in his sparks flickers of jealousy in Rin’s mind. Why is Sae the one who gets to hold you? It isn’t fair. “If you push me in that filthy water, I’ll give you a matching scar…”

“...right there.”

One of your fingers softly grazes his cheek, the spot underneath his right eye and flicks upwards, brushing against his thick eyelashes, before you lace your hands around his neck. You sway together, with the moonlight showering its stars down upon you, blessing you with well-wishes from the galaxy— and drift away from the worries of royalty and betrothals. Rin is miles from the anger that nestled itself inside of his heart, freezing it and shrinking it until he no longer knew what the emotion felt like. You’ve melted that ice. You’ve found a crack and broken the cycle of rage he’s so accustomed to…and he’s grateful.

For this is the first time he’s ever felt loved…

…if only you were his…

…but you aren’t.

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀thank you for reading! reblogs are greatly appreciated! ⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀will have a second part titled swan song in the future!

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melatonin-melanin · 9 months

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jirai kei as a trend and the inherent ableism and racism present within it

if you've been present in any japanese fashion or vtuber spaces for the past few years, chances are you've most likely heard of jirai kei. it's gotten major media attention in japan, and inevitably its popularity has spread overseas. what is still misinterpreted about it, however, is that jirai kei is a fashion style. jirai kei is a stereotype, as well as a subculture that features fashion elements. as opposed to the fashion aspects, the focus of the subculture is mental illness, and many people use the jirai tags and labels to find those with similar struggles and interests. you can learn more about the recent history of jirai kei as a stereotype here, and the fashions associated with jirai kei here.

jirai kei as a stereotype is bad for a multitude of reasons, but there are many people who seem to think that there's nothing wrong with the trend itself. i've seen many arguments in favor of it, ranging from "if brands are using it, that must mean the term isn't that bad" to "plenty of japanese girls are using it to only refer to the fashion, and they don't actually lash out at others or self-harm." its usage by brands and everyday people are true, and that much cannot be argued. the problem comes from assuming that, because it's something widespread in japan, it can't possibly be as bad as people make it out to be. if this trend were to come from anywhere else, i'm almost certain that people would immediately question the morality of it for several reasons. this is going to be a long post, so i hope you have some time.

TW for mentions of self-harm, alcohol and drug abuse, and child sex trafficking below the cut.

a brief rundown of jirai kei's origins

to start, jirai kei's original coinage before the trend has existed since around the 90s. it was used by misogynistic men to refer to women who they believed exhibited signs of emotional instability. this was applied to completely harmless traits, and the criteria for someone being a landmine has drastically changed over the years. for example, the first common identifier was simply "a girl who looks put together." this sexist usage still extends to present times, but now it's often conflated with the current aestheticized definition of the term.

the source of the current iteration of jirai kei

the modern-day jirai kei stereotype comes almost entirely from a gang known as the toyoko kids, who reside in kabukicho. this gang contains many members ranging from ages 9 to 24 who have run away from their homes and families. they have been known for several activities, but the most publicized ones are cutting themselves in public circles, papa katsu (underage prostitution), heavily drinking, and overdosing on over-the-counter medications. majority of the gang members also wear japanese alternative fashions, with girly kei being the fashion that's most often present in the jirai kei stereotype.

where does the ableism come in?

the rise of the aesthetic trend peaked somewhere in 2020, where a "landmine makeup challenge" gained popularity online and resulted in various people attempting to mock and mimic the stereotype for clout. people would wear girly fashion, act "wild" or "crazy" on camera, and, at worst, pretend to cut their wrists or even use makeup to create fake self-harm scars. i don't believe i need to explain why faking self-harm for views is ableist. however, the ableism is also present in the supposed "lighter" aspects of the trend, particularly its sudden association with girly fashion.

during the height of jirai kei's popularity in japan, many brands had begun to sell pink x black girly coordinates, advertising them as jirai kei fashion. it's incredibly important to note that girly as a fashion has existed for several years prior, and that multiple people had already been wearing clothing that's abruptly being labeled jirai. as a result, you have all of these random people minding their business suddenly being labeled as "crazy psycho bitches" because of the clothes that they wear. as if that isn't enough, some brands went as far as to promote the more dangerous aspects of the stereotype as well. with attempts to pander to girls who are deemed "yandere" and "highly explosive," many shops, online influencers, and companies had directly and indirectly capitalized on the suffering of the toyoko kids by encouraging people to cut their wrists, manipulate their partners, binge drink, and lash out at others to engage in the "full landmine experience."

mental illness in japan is almost never taken seriously because it's seen as a personality flaw rather than something that needs treatment. the jirai kei trend only set back any progress made for mental health acknowledgement in society, as people perceived as landmines began to be harassed for wearing girly fashion. more girls were approached by men on the street trying to scout them for prostitution, and people gave away their wardrobe because "others assumed they were troublesome" for wearing it. from another perspective, the anti-recovery nature of the trend has also taken lives. some people who felt that they identified with the term had fully embraced the lifestyle that was commercialized and promoted as something "cute and fun," resulting in more people running away from home to be like the toyoko kids. these people, who have essentially been failed by the system, are simultaneously fetishized and shunned for the fact that they're struggling.

well, what about the racism?

the racism present in the jirai kei trend, from what i've seen, mainly comes from overseas communities. the perception that many people have of jirai kei tends to have its roots in orientalism. if you've ever witnessed how people tend to glorify japan in almost every context, this shouldn't be too surprising. what's concerning, however, is that much of this glorification of jirai still goes unacknowledged by the western j-fashion community.

when jirai kei gained popularity in japan's mainstream, people mistook the name of the stereotype for the name of the fashion. this mindset also translated over to western spaces without a second thought. as a result, when jirai kei as a stereotype was formally introduced to overseas j-fashion communities, some were confused and oddly adamant. it seemed like people thought, "there's no way that japan would endorse something so horrible. there has to be different explanations!" regardless of whether this idea was conscious or subconscious, it had begun what people now call "jirai discourse" in the community. many arguments were made in favor of using jirai kei to refer solely to girly fashion, as opposed to recognizing its origins and continuous usage as a derogatory term. an especially common viewpoint that's perpetuated is that jirai kei has been reclaimed or is in the process of being reclaimed, which is something that has several things wrong with it.

problems with thinking that jirai is "reclaimed, so it's fine to use"

firstly, reclamation is subjective. the assumption that the entirety of a minority group makes the unanimous decision to reclaim a term is frankly just implausible. even more popular words that are thrown around more casually nowadays are still debated in some circles on whether or not they should be used. for a term like jirai kei, something fairly recently coined and undoubtedly controversial in most contexts, the mere idea of reclamation amongst anyone would have to take a much longer time, and that's only if the stereotype starts getting taken seriously.

secondly, the only people who have the right to consider reclamation are the people who are directly affected by the usage of this term, which would be feminine-presenting native japanese people who are mentally ill. people overseas have argued in favor of reclaiming the term despite not being a part of the group that the term is actually used against. this is not something where you can take apart the criteria and suddenly claim that you're also affected by jirai kei's usage. for a comparison that may be easily understood, that's like if a nonblack woman tried to advocate for the reclamation of the "mammy" stereotype, which stereotypes and therefore only affects the perception of black women. just because both groups consist of women, that doesn't mean they have the exact same experience with the stereotype in question, even if they happen to resonate with some aspect of it. unless you've grown up in japan as someone afab and/or feminine-presenting and have struggled with mental health, it's nearly impossible to fully identify with the extent of jirai kei's harm because it's occurred in such a specific set of circumstances to a specific group of people. the only thing that should be done in this case is doing your research on the affected group, which you can do by looking into the history of the toyoko kids and some of the individual stories of the members. that way, you can at least attain a better understanding of their perspectives and connect the effects of jirai kei to their struggles.

lastly, it is not reclaiming to simply use the term for yourself. this tends to be where the idea of jirai kei being reclaimed comes from, because many japanese girls on social media use the term to refer to themselves as well. in these instances, there are typically two separate reasons: one, the person is pretending to be a landmine for clout; or two, they genuinely identify with the derogatory meaning of the term. the latter is often the case, since there's not many other ways for people in japan who are mentally ill to find groups for themselves. when it comes to reclamation, it's important to remember that it's not simply using a word that was used against a group that you're a part of. reclaiming is about actively working to change a term's meaning into a neutral or positive context for the benefit of the group. none of these girls are doing that. there's no big effort in japanese landmine spaces to move the perception of being a landmine away from things like girly kei fashion, idol fan culture, or toxic behaviors, which leads me to the final section of this post.

it is not anyone's job to push for the "reclamation" of jirai kei.

i put reclamation in quotes because, although some genuinely may not have ill intentions, many people come off as having a "white savior" mindset as opposed to actually wanting to reclaim the term in any sense (which, as mentioned before, is not the right of just anyone), and it's usually for the sake of enjoying girly fashion without feeling bad for incorrectly calling it jirai kei. one of the defenses often used to propose that being seen as a landmine can actually be a good thing is that the people who do self-harm and abuse substances are simply "bad apples" in the landmine community. if they're not treated as the dirty underside, then they're seen as things to be pitied and sympathized with, but with the quick disclaimer of "don't worry though, not all landmines are like this!"

not only is this incredibly ableist, but this assumption being made by mainly white influencers is also rooted in the historical development of racism against asian people, particularly in the united states. if you've heard of the model minority myth, one of the biggest issues with it is that it heavily generalizes asian people as being well-mannered, good-natured, and upstanding citizens. as a result, anyone who seems to fall out of this generalization is deemed an "untrustworthy foreigner" and appears as nonexistent through a romanticized lens. this exact situation can be applied to how people tend to treat the issues surrounding the jirai kei trend. the japanese girls who are faking and/or making fun of mental instability for the sake of online popularity are suddenly being glorified as these ideal representations of jirai kei to be palatable to the western world. meanwhile, the people who are considered by many to be part of the lowest rungs of society and are actually getting this term thrown at them pejoratively are treated as an afterthought and not representative of what people overseas want jirai kei to mean. it's even to the extent where native japanese people using girly kei or being uncomfortable with jirai kei are immediately assumed to be faking their ethnicity or their japanese-speaking skills, something that many foreigners have actually done in an attempt to claim authority over jirai kei's usage. since the reality of the trend is so uncomfortable to many, people think that it's best to simply disregard it or dumb down its impact when that changes nothing. what has avoiding the topic of discrimination and fetishization ever done for anyone?

the last thing i want to point out is that, even if reclamation of the term was in progress, it would not be happening the way that some seem to think it is. if the term was being reclaimed, we would not have people (both overseas and in japan) still acting like the stereotype for tons of likes, namely by taking pictures of themselves in girly kei next to cans of pink monster while sitting on the sidewalk with someone handing them money. that is an actual image i've seen, and if that doesn't tell you that there's a problem, i'm not sure what else will.

#rise and shine #jfashion #japanese fashion #jirai kei #jirai onna #girly kei #alt fashion #alternative fashion

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multiwreckedmess · 1 year

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Kinktober - Day 2

Prompt: Titfucking Pairing: Changbin x fem!reader WC: 1,980 Summary: After the gym Changbin is worked up and needs help to relieve himself.

This is a work of fiction, it does not represent Changbin or any Stray Kids member. On top of this it is an 18+ work. For my comfort and boundaries please if you are under age do not interact with this.

Additional TW/CW below the cut.

TW/CW: Changbin is a bit of a pervert, one use of “babe” directed towards reader, assumed larger chest, lots of talk about breasts, titfucking, no penetration, sweat as lube, spit as lube, finishing on chest.

Gym pump. Changbin had heard of it. Guys getting their “pump” on he thought was just the code for the naturally hulkier appearance of a well worked muscle. He’d not considered that pump could mean other things. It didn’t cross his mind that when his blood “pumped” through at an increased rate, spreading all those endorphins far and wide, that it would spread literally to every extremity, including his cock. It was kind of cool actually, looking down after a particularly grueling session and seeing his slightly swollen member just a little more prominently bulging in his gym shorts.

It wasn’t a huge hassle until you joined the gym. A small family owned gym like the one he frequented didn’t often get new members. It wasn’t flashy like the higher end gyms, nor cheap like the chains. It was niche and he loved that. You also loved that. Chain gyms were intimidating, harsh fluorescent lights with rows and rows of cardio equipment peppered with some weight training. High end gyms were no better, mostly used as a social club for the wealthy to network and find dates. While the atmosphere was nicer, the people were not. So you gritted your teeth and spent the money at the small independent gym near work.

9PM, your usual start time, give or take a few minutes. Your tits slightly spilling over you just barely too small sports bra caught his eye every time. It was like you walked tits first through the door, bright pink and bouncing as you marched yourself to the bay of lockers to store your gym bag. It drove him insane. Imagining how soft and pliable you would be in his arms pushed him harder on his last reps, grunting and gasping damn near erotically. However instead of heading immediately to your usual treadmill you stretch in a small alcove before waving at Changbin. He damn near slams the plates of the overhead rower against each other. “Sorry,” you smile, hands folded neatly behind your back. “I normally wouldn’t ask but, no one else is here and I need someone to spot me.” “Spot you?” Changbin’s brows raise. “You don’t lift weights.” He blurts. Now it’s your turn for a questioning look. Changbin wants to wither and die, what a fucking stupid thing to say. Either now you know he’s been watching you and knows your routine or think he’s a sexist prick. “Yeah err, I heard adding weight lifting and growing muscle can help with weight loss so I thought…well. I don’t know. Should I not lift?” Shaking his head and closing his eyes, Changbin looks you up and down. “I’m sorry. I phrased it wrong. You can lift weights if you want to!” “No, I know, I need someone to spot me. Can you?” You stare at him from under your eyebrows. For fear of saying something even more stupid Changbin nods enthusiastically and stands to follow you to the bench. How he thought he would be able to handle this angle of you is beyond him. But it was true, he was the only one in the gym who could help you and he wasn’t going to let you down.

Staring down at you, watching the bar come closer to your chest, back arched slightly from the bench. If he just racked the fucking bar and yanked you to him he could easily fuck your throat with abandon. But he really shouldn’t think like that. He should focus on the speed and frequency of your lifts. They’re calculated and measured, a beginner watching their forum, analyzing each movement, hesitant. “You’ve got it, two more for the set.” Changbin says firmly and quietly. “Just two more.” His quiet confidence in you makes you proud, emotions high from the tension in your arms. You grit your teeth and smile as you push your last two reps. “I was planning on doing two more sets. Just need to complete my circuit in the meantime, do you mind if I find you again? For spotting?” Voice sweetly lilting to appeal to him, he agrees with a silent smirk and nod.

You don’t ask him every time. Changbin doesn’t want to admit he feels a certain way about it. He was your first spotter, should’ve been your only spotter. No one else should be watching you as intently as him. It’s not that he’s possessive, it’s that he’s concerned. Or at least he tells himself this is the reason for his continued light surveillance. It’s almost a month before he talks to you again. Working himself to almost complete failure he can’t take it anymore. Eyes locked on you as you rerack your weights he needs to say something to you. Anything to you to make it clear that he’s friendly and approachable and wants to help. “Your chest…presses are coming along…” he tries to casually glance and nod. A quick observation to let you know he cares about your progress. Glace flitting down to your hot pink sports bra, casually of course. He makes you nervous, muttering a quick “oh…thanks. Can’t have the girls get saggy,” as you avoid eye contact. Knowledgeable and handsome, you want to impress him. “Must be heavy.” The words slip out of his mouth before he can stop them, eyes still marveling at your chest. “What?” “Oh sorry,” he shifts awkwardly. His knuckles press into his hardening cock, trying to make it look like he was simply massaging his quad. “My brain doesn’t think so clearly after a workout. Just blurts stuff out. Don’t mind me I’m normally…” “No, I mean they are heavy. If you want to, you could lift them! Like, for exercise….” You try to joke, cunt pulsing with faint hope. “Might help with your problem.” Changbin pretends to consider your offer, counting to five as he inhales, trying to keep himself from screaming enthusiastically. “Problem? I don’t have a problem.” Both of your eyes flit down to the outline in his shorts and back to each other. “Sorry I just…” you mutter, heat of embarrassment pricking the tips of your ears. “I’m going to-” you start gesturing towards your usual treadmill in the corner window to escape from the entire incident. Even your lower half starts to turn, separate from your head, still bowed in apology, eyes to the floor.

“Stop her, stop her now,” the thought clouds Changbin’s vision, “stop her this is it, you have to.” His hand catches your shoulder, halting your step, he thinks his heart may stop as well. A tiny yip of shock bubbles from your lips. His grip is strong, stance solid, he plants you with him, unable to shake free even if you wanted to. You didn’t want to shake free. “No, you’re right,” his eyes dart around the large space. The two of you basically the only people there. “If you want to help, I’d appreciate it. A lot. Before I have to leave.” You blink. Stuttering incoherent vowels you follow him as he wordlessly turns and heads to an unmarked door in the far corner of the gym. Upon opening it, it’s clearly a staff bathroom, a single stall with harsh fluorescent lights and gray cement floors. The door clicks heavily and locks behind you. You don’t get much time to survey the surroundings before your back travels forcefully into the wall, Changbin caging you between his shoulders. Body pressed to you a small needy whine catches in his throat. “You’re okay? You want to help me out?” He gulps, eyes wide. You nod as his hands clasp and drag all over your body, revealing in the indentations his fingers make. “Gonna let me fuck your tits? God I need to fuck your tits. They’re all I think about. Please let me fuck your tits please, god,” his mouth carries on and on a mile a minute as he feels as much of you as he can. Twitching and trembling he finally lets his hands cup your breasts through your bra. Heavy and plush in his grasp, it’s somehow exactly as he imagined and even better. “So soft, you’ll let me fuck them, yeah?” “Ye-yeah-they’re sweaty but-” you apologetically murmur. His hands feel so good on your aching muscles, you wonder where else his hands would feel good. A flash of heat floods your sex. “Sweaty fine. It’s good. Great.” He shuffles his shorts down around his ankles, “please, hurry, please.” His cock is red and angry, precum coating and shining the tip. Getting down to eye level with it, he’s thick, mouthwateringly so. Hesitating you consider wrapping your lips around the head, just to see how much of him you could fit, a personal challenge to surmount. He whines, a leg bending and twitching, “leave the bra on.”

Your eyebrow shoots up but you oblige, sliding him under the band, nestled snugly between your mounds as you squeeze on either side. He eyelids flutter as the slip of sweat and precum coats his shaft. Sucking air in through his teeth he slowly thrusts along the tight crevice. The sight itself is enough to have him lightheaded, his cockhead just barely poking out of the top of your cleavage with each thrust upward, shiny and covered in body fluid. He doesn’t even realize the sounds he’s making. Small grunts under his breath mixed with reedy whines. Most of your partners had been relatively quiet about their enjoyment save for a few dirty phrases whispered closely to your ear. Changbin was the opposite, virtually impossible to shut up. “Feels good?” You encourage him further. “Tight around your thick cock?” “So tight. So soft. Fuck.” His eyes close, brows furrowed in concentration. Your voice is so quiet and sweet and he just wants to ruin you, or be ruined by you. His legs tremble and clench. “Spit on it. Just a little. Slowly.” Staring up at him you hold your tits in place, flush with his hips, and make a show of gathering spit in your mouth and slowly letting it drip from your tongue to the valley of your chest, gathering and sliding over the barely exposed slit of his cock. “Like this?” Changbin swallows hard. “Yeah like that baby.” He shudders, hands cupping over yours, squeezing harder. Hips snapping forcefully his thumbs ghost over your nipples, pebbled and pressed to the fabric of the cups. You thirst suddenly, mouth filling with spit. God damn it you want him so badly. You need to hear him cum, see his muscles tense and relax, watch as his face scrunches moments before everything becomes bliss. Your entire body thrums with need, tongue lolling out and down as if he fucked your breasts hard enough he could reach it. A worthy goal for him that he attempts, jostling you harder, grunting and groaning as he wills himself to breach the gap. Your bra is pink, your tongue is pink, your lips are pink, you’re all pink for him. His pink gym bunny. Suddenly he does it, the hot salty slit of his cock hits the very tip of your tongue. You moan, unable to form words. He does it again as you push your jaw just a little bit lower, aching at the joint. He can’t believe it, the heat of your mouth even briefly has his brain foggy and vision blurring. His stance falters. Thighs tensing and cock resting on your sternum he cums, spilling the warm pearly substance across your collarbone. “Shit,” he mutters between moans. He can’t stop his hips slow rutting, spreading his release further down the chasm of your tits. “Sorry, I can clean- I can take care of this for you. Fuck.” “You just want to touch my tits more, pervert.” You smile. He smiles and laughs, “yeah maybe.”

Changbin is LITERALLY the hardest for me to write so I’m trying to get his done earlier in the month so i don’t burn out and give up. He’s my bias so like...nothing ever feels quite “right” when I write him. If that makes sense.

However i love when others write him so please this is an open call for sending me your favorite Changbin centric fics in literally any pairing configuration.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #stray kids kinktober #skz kinktober #changbin smut #seo changbin smut #skz smut #stray kids smut

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sehodreams · 8 months

Note

ofc character toxification is fine! 💣

TW and Tags: toxic!conservative!riize, sexist behaviors and thoughts, don't know what else to put.

Thank you, this was interesting hahaha, it kind of became in a list of sexist ideas and behaviors, but still hope you like it.

From this question:

Most

Eunseok

Wonbin

Sungchan

Seunghan

Shotaro

Sohee

Anton

Least

Eunseok is definitely the kind of guy who wants his girl to be 24/7 for him, you have to be his good little doll waiting at home all the time, you have to look pretty, nod to everything he says and be dumb all the time, smart girls talk too much and he doesn't like that at all. Don't even think about working outside either, your place is right there cleaning his house and in the kitchen cooking for him. It wouldn't be a surprise that he's one of the guys who would actually talk to people about how they have to keep their girls in check, making sure they're not acting like little sluts out there and do their only job in this world, stay at home satisfying their needs, and he'd even preach about it in front of your face, you nodding after he brainwashed you.

Wonbin is such an asshole with all the female population, he thinks they all have to meet society beauty standards to deserve his attention and respect as human beings, and wouldn't say much in front of them, but behind their backs he'd talk about how disgusting they look if they don't shave, wore makeup or kept a neat look. Also, I don't know why, but if you were his wife he wouldn't care that you're in an important point of your career (he doesn't mind you working), if he wants you to stop and have his children, you will.

Sungchan feels like the bro that wants children from you yes or yes, he'd practically see you as his own incubator instead of his wife, and would also always talk about it, how many BOYS he wants to play with, and how a little girl would be perfect to complete the team (but just one, not more), he wants children so much that would forget that you're a person with feelings and that you should be the one deciding how many you want too. On top of that, he'd really complain about how low the birth rate is, saying how sad is that women have lost the desire of fulfilling their role in the world as mothers.

Seunghan is the kind of guy who wants his girl pure, and that means, virgin. Just the idea of you opening your legs for someone that's not him makes his blood boil, like, where's your respect to yourself? Oh, and don't even dare to tell him that he has to be a virgin too, he'd firmly affirm that it's not the same, even trash talking about divorced women because they're already "used". He'd also convince you, to not say gaslight you, into thinking men can't only be with one woman since it's in their nature to cheat.

Shotaro has this artsy vibe, he's a dancer, he's grown up in this free of judgment space, I just don't think he'd ever judge a woman about her career goals and her choices about family, unless she's his girlfriend. He'd pressure to look pretty and skinny, making you lose weight with sutil but hurtful comments like "uhmm, are you sure about dessert?", making you always judge how you look and compare yourself with the girls he works with. Also, like I said, he wouldn't mind if you worked, however, he'd totally hate that you didn't take care enough of the house if you worked too much, he doesn't care that the two of you have exhausting jobs, when he arrives he wants his dinner hot and his bath ready.

Sohee wouldn't have any problem with you working and not having children, but he'd support the idea of women taking care of the household, he'd wash the dishes and leave everything else to you (from buying the ingredients, cooking, to serving the meal), and he'd affirm to everyone that he's always helping around the house. It's not that he doesn't how to survive on his own, but if you were his wife, he'd just leave most of the work to you, and would probably choose to marry you with that in mind too (the idea of having practically a servant). Also, he'd hate if you earned more money than him, probably making you quit or convincing you to have an "easier" job that paid you less just to not feel his position as the house head in danger.

I don't feel nothing from Anton, he'd love a bad bitch with thick makeup, a different style, that felt passion for her career and never cooked. He's still dumb with household chores, he wouldn't be able to survive on his own, but he'd never pressure you into doing everything on your own, and he do wants children, but if you don't then there's no pressure neither, your body your choice.

#riize x reader #dark!riize #anton x reader #shotaro x reader #eunseok x reader #seunghan x reader #sungchan x reader #wonbin x reader #sohee x reader #riize x plus size reader #(💣)

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the--rebel--fae · 5 months

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To Love a Fallen Angel

A/N: Finally I start this up, the fic I promised for the 50+ follower celebration! This is only ch. 1 of the fic--I promise there will be a lot more. I'm really excited about this. So! Without further ado, enjoy my loves! Oh and if you rather read it in Ao3 I'll provide the link for it in a separate post!

TW: Violence, a lot of swearing, Adam being sexist, but that's about it for this chapter.

The sun shone brilliantly against the terracotta walls of the villa you called your home since you were just a child. As you passed by a window you looked out at the expanse of land with rolling Spanish hills stretching as far as the eye can see.

You loved this time in the morning. It was like everything in España was just waking up. Letting out a contented hum, you leave the window and continue your usual morning walk only stopping when you neared a small alcove in the wall that held something very important to you.

Your late brother's memorial. Everyone in the family worked together to compile different items and pictures for Alejandro. It was a big blow when he got killed--he was the head of the family after all ever since your parents passed just a few years prior. Now, it was up to you and your cousin Mikhail to lead the family.

"I miss you hermano. How I wish I could tell you about all the new things that have happened."

You sighed as you ran a finger across the oak frame of his main picture on the table. It felt as if it was just yesterday that he turned that mischievous grin on you and teased you about god knows what. That's how it always was, you'd tease each other relentlessly, but at the end of the day, you were each other's rock.

"Missing him again eh?" A deep voice sounded out behind you.

Turning around you can't hold back the smirk that pulled at your lips. "I know it's been ten years Mikhail, but sometimes," you trail off.

Mikhail smiles sympathetically and puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. The sun glinted off of his honey-brown hair as he stepped closer.

"I know, but he wouldn't want you to be sad. If anything, he'd be proud of all the work you've done!"

You let a small smile flit across your face. "Hmm, true enough I guess."

The halls echoed back Mikhail's laugh. His bright green eyes danced with amusement. "You guess? Who's the one who just put a stop to those bastardos down in Madrid when they tried to take over half of the country with their sex trafficking ring? You were like an avenging angel."

You grinned at that. It was a rather proud moment for you. You despised abuse. Especially to young women. So you got a rather sick satisfaction when Interpol conveniently set off one of the group's wayward grenades that they just so happen to have lying around.

They got the women out and the leader of the gang was no more. Before you could respond to your cousin's comment though, the whole house shook and the air was suddenly filled with the sound of gunfire.

"Hijo de," you cursed. "What the Hell is going on?"

Mikhail shook his head and started running towards the front of the house. "I don't know, but whatever it is, they're going to pay."

Another blast shook the house making you slam into the wall. You cried out in pain.

"Cousin!"

You grit your teeth at the throbbing pain in your shoulder but push through the halls nonetheless. “I’m fine Mikhail, just caught off guard. Let’s keep moving. We need to find out who the hell is behind this attack.”

You round the corner just barely footsteps behind Mickail. “Agreed, and what makes them think they have the cajones to attack La Familia Moreno.”

Some of the pictures and fixtures have already fallen off with the forces of some of the shots that have gone through the entirety of the villa.

“Oh, I have plenty of balls thank you, Mikhail.” A familiar voice rang out, making your heart plummet straight to your stomach and ice felt like it was shot through your veins.

Crowley.

Both you and Mikhail ran out of the villa and were immediately face to face with a mass of paid missionaries with guns all cocked and pointed towards the two of you. After a beat, the sea parted and the man you hoped you’d never see again came walking out.

After all these years, Crowley still looked the same. His raven hair sharply contrasted with the blaze of the Spanish morning sun, and his grey eyes still held nothing but malice and violence. The military gear he was decked out in just added to his imposing form.

You never really killed anyone, but looking down at Crowley right now, you’d reconsider your morals.

“You should be dead you hijo de puta!” Mikhail snarled stepping slightly in front of you in an attempt to shield you from any possible tricks that bastard might pull.

Grinding your teeth, your gaze practically lethal towards the man who tried to stage a coup against your family more than a decade ago, you let out a sigh that almost sounded like a hiss. “Ale, showed mercy to him when he tracked him down.”

Mikhail scoffed. “Damn his soft heart.”

Crowley chuckled. “Yes, that disgusting kindness was a weakness. But now that he’s gone, there’s no one left to hold the secrets of the Familia Moreno, except you little mouse.”

If not for Mikhail's presence in front of you, you would have lunged and killed Crowley right then and there. “Don’t you ever say that nick name to me. Only Alejandro and my family can call me that. And I’d rather die than give you our secrets.”

Crowley merely shrugged as if it was a mere inconvenience. “Very well, then I guess you need a little enticement.” He gave a nod to one of his men and it felt like everything moved in slow motion from that moment.

You heard a gun cock and then fire–it was aimed right at Mikhail.

Your body moved before you could think, shoving yourself in front of Mikhail and suddenly everything started going at a normal speed again.

But why did your chest feel like it was being ripped open?

Why was Mikhail suddenly shouting? What was he saying? Why was he crying?

It hurt to breathe.

Maybe if you went to sleep this would be all a bad dream and you’d wake up and you could have breakfast with Mikhail as you planned.

Yea, a nap sounded good right now. It’ll take the pain away.

But when you closed your eyes…you didn’t wake up.

12 years later…

You let out an irritated puff of breath and fiddled with your half of the necklace you always wore. Even when you were alive. It had the Familia Moreno crest–a butterfly, on it. But it was only one-half. Your brother contained the other half. That was the only way you were ever going to identify him. Or any of your family for that matter. After all, everyone in the family wore some piece of jewelry with la Mariposa on it.

Which brings us to why you were getting very agitated with a certain First Man.

“Come on Adam! We talked about this! You know why I want to join you on this Extermination! Who knows what other chances I may get, with the way things have been going! I won’t even fight, I just want to have a look around to see if I can find any of my family.”

Adam rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “And I keep tellin’ you, Sera would have my ass if I let you down there. You already found your sister-in-law and your niece and nephew. What more do you need?”

You fixed him with a look that he was all too familiar with.

You didn’t have your brother. Or parents for that matter.

Lute took off her mask and looked up at Adam. “Maybe just this once she could come, sir. We’re only targeting that disgusting excuse of a hotel. At least for now. Besides I’ve been watching her improve her hand-to-hand combat skills. She’s pretty capable. She was able to pin some of my best girls in minutes.”

A feeling of hope danced in your eyes. Yes! Maybe for once, you could get your wish. And not have to be babysat by Azrael again. You loved that man like a brother, but if he bugged you one more time about using your amazing singing voice for his band... you were going to hit him with his guitar. You didn't know how many more times you could take being called “My little Melody.”

You curse the day you chose that as your alias. But you never felt comfortable sharing your real name unless you were truly close with someone. You had the firm belief that names carried weight. So to those in your extremely tiny circle, you were (Y/n). To everyone else–Melody.

Adam let out a resigned sigh. “Your gonna be up my ass about this even worse than before if I don’t let you go, aren’t you Mel?”

You smirked. “One. You know you can just use my real name, right? No one’s currently around. It’s just you, me, and Lute in the area. The other exorcists haven’t even arrived yet. And two. You bet your sexist ass I would.”

An overdramatical gasp fell from Adam’s lips. “Hey! I’m for equality and all that female shit.”

Lute and you just shared an amused look.

“But fine, you can come. Only if you promise to circle back and come right back to my side in fifteen minutes. Because we are so going to pone those losers. So the battle won’t even last long.”

“Yes!”

“--And I’m assigning you a bodyguard. Just to be safe.”

You pouted but nodded. “Fine. I guess that’s fair. Whatever gets me down there at least for a little. Who’s it gonna be?”

“How about Siph? You two seem to get along well and even though she’s new she’s capable.”

You smiled and nodded at Lute’s suggestion. “Yea, that sounds like a good idea. I mean how bad could it be?”

***

Turns out? It was not the right decision at all to assign Siph as your bodyguard. You realize asyou lay on your side, golden blood seeping out of your shoulder blades, your halo thrown several feet away from you. Your exorcist disguise was covered in dirt and muck as the red skies of hell looked down at you in almost a mocking manner. Almost as if to say: You wanted to be down in Hell so badly. Well here you are.

The whole incident kept playing in your head like a broken record.

Turns out she was jealous of you all this time, just pretending to be your friend.

It was barely five minutes in with your search paired with her that she suddenly attacked you sliced off your wings, and trashed your halo. Leaving you to die just mere feet behind the Princess of Hell’s hotel.

“You don’t deserve to be an angel you mafia filth.” She spat at you as she tore your wings off. “You don’t even deserve the way Adam treats you. He should be looking at me that way! Me! I’m one of his best girls. Not some pathetic excuse of an angel. You should be here in Hell where you belong.”

You honestly should have seen this coming with her, but for once, you wanted to try and see the good in someone instead of having that natural suspicion you grew up with.

“Lot of good that did me.” You muttered and coughed. “I can’t die here. Not without seeing Ale or Mama or Papa.”

You tried to move but had almost no strength. Before you passed out though, it seemed Lady Luck looked down on you because you heard footsteps coming towards you. Hopefully, it was to help and not finish you off.

“Oh shit. Those bastards did it again. Shit shit shit! Hey, are you still alive?”

You felt two cool fingers at your throat.

“Oh thank Lucifer. Charlie! Get your father over here! We have a fallen angel on our hands! Damn, bastardos.”

Did that person just speak Spanish?

You wish you could see them but your eyes felt heavy and it was a fight just to keep them open. The only thing you could make out was an outline of a woman and long white hair.

“You’re gonna be alright. Don’t worry.”

You held onto those words of comfort like a shining beacon in a storm as exhaustion won the fight and darkness surrounded you once more.

A/N Well! that wraps up this chapter! I hope y'all enjoyed it! Please do feel free to tell me your thoughts on it! I love reading y'alls comments. And don't worry, the best is yet to come. Our dear Melody is a fallen angel now, chaos will surely ensue...

#the rebel fae #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #vox x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #vox x you #angel dust #hazbin hotel adam #alastor x you

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ribb0ngirl · 7 months

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𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑦 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑔!!

hi you can call me Ale and this is my digital diary where I post my thoughts and literally everything else ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹ I also take vision board and mood board requests! write them in my ask box!

♡ 6teen, she/her, Spanish and Colombian, currently living in bcn

♡ I post mainly about girl problems, school, drama, etc.

♡ I love: Brandy Melville, Victoria’s Secret, coffee, matcha, baking, reading, drawing, Lana del Rey, Sofia Coppola, internet drama, gossip, sanrio, coquette aesthetic, Spotify, Pinterest

♡ my pinterest

𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑢𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑠! 𝑑𝑚 𝑚𝑒! ₊˚⊹♡

DNI if: you are racist, homophobic, sexist, etc., you are a grown adult, or/and you are a creep

TW: I’m recovering from an ed and sometimes I will talk/vent about it

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

𝑣𝑖𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑏𝑜𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑠

♡ my vision board ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

♡ she's in her smart girl era ⊹˚. ౨ৎ

♡ she practices selfcare ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

♡ Her skin is always perfect ‎♡‧₊˚

𝑚𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑏𝑜𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑠

♡ sad girl 𐙚

♡ Forever a mocha girl ⊹୨୧₊

♡ written and directed by Sofia Coppola ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

♡ she's who I aspire to be ₊˚ʚ ᗢ

♡ dear mom and dad, I hope you know I am trying ໒꒱°·๐

♡ She listens to Fiona Apple ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

♡ You're losing me to a live of my own . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

♡ She has a pinterest addiction ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹

♡ beauty and brains ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

♡ can't wait for pretty girl summer ⋆˚✿˖°

♡ The pink office siren .𖥔 ݁ ˖

♡ farmer's daughter ⋆.˚🦋༘⋆

♡ Mom was right, it's my fault 𖦹

♡ balletcore 🩰 ‧₊˚ ♡ ‧₊ ୨ৎ

𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑠

♡ my fave youtubers !! ₊ ⊹ ♡

♡ my fave wellness by her posts ⊹ ࣪ ˖𝜗𝜚

♡ my fave movies ⊹ ࣪ ˖

♡ my fave clothing stores -`♡´-

♡ fawns ɞ˚‧｡♡

♡ my fave playlists 🎧 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠/𝑔𝑢𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑠

♡ my reset routine ᧔♡᧓

♡ her mindset ♡‧₊˚

♡ my weight loss guide ʚɞ ⁺˖

♡ my guide on surviving a toxic family ౨ৎ

♡ my guide on studying for finals ༺♡︎༻

♡ manifesting perfect grades ୨୧˚. ᵎᵎ

♡ achieving the girlblog vibe/aura 𐙚𓂃࣪˖

♡ my guide on achieving the "doe who turned into a teen girl" vibe ₊˚⊹ ᰔ.˚

♡ my guide on getting it together this summer and finding your self worth 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

#girlblogging #girl interrupted #hell is a teenage girl #this is what makes us girls #this is a girlblog #girlblog aesthetic #girl blogger #girlblogger #lana del rey #lana is god #priscilla presley #coquette #dollette #coquette dollete #dollette aesthetic #coquette angel

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steddiehasmywholeheart · 1 year

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Happily Ever After

(TW/CW for typical sexist thinking)

When Beauty and the Beast comes out in 1991, despite the fact that El is almost 20, she decides she wants to go and see it with her and her family. She adored The Little Mermaid, and after the Family Video days, going to the movies is still something her and the party like to do together. And Steve loves it, because he gets to watch cheesy romance storylines without taking shit for it.

But at the tender age of 24, not in a long-term relationship, and still haunted by his days in school, Beauty and the Beast hits Steve a little close to home. He sees himself in the Beast, wonders if he'll ever find love, if he'll ever stop being 'too much' for people (because sure, he doesn't have the Beast's temper, but he is too clingy, his exes - yes, all of them - made sure to tell him, and that's without all the other stuff).

And it's not like he's hopped into bed with every viable option in the years since they finally killed Vecna, either. He's really only had 3 relationships in that time, carefully vetted and deliberated upon before even starting the relationship, because he'd known then what it was like to have his heartbroken, and he was not in a rush to repeat that. Besides, his kids came first, and there was a lot of rebuilding to do. But despite everything, none of his girlfriends had lasted, not between the secrets of the Upside Down, the head trauma, the nightmares, and his 'cloying' nature.

He leaves the theatre with an ache in his chest, but tries to keep a smile on his face as they all pile into the nearest burger joint and talk about the movie and life in general. Only Eddie notices something's off, quirking an eyebrow at him. Steve, of course, waves him off with a poor excuse for a smile.

When it's time for them to all disperse, Steve drives straight to his current girlfriend's house as previously planned, not noticing the worried look Eddie shoots his way. Steve tries to hide his mood from his girlfriend, tries not to hug her for too long when she greets him at the door, knowing from much previous experience that girls don't like it when you're not the strong one, but he just can't shake the feeling that he's being torn apart from the inside out. He just can't help but think about how Belle was willing to change for the Beast; adjust her expectations, adapt her behaviour, be patient with him, and communicate instead of sending him weird, incomprehensible messages then get pissed when he doesn't understand. Why can't he have that? Is he even worthy of that? Why the fuck is it easier to justify redemption for a fictional beast than himself?

But his girlfriend sighs, unfooled, and won't leave him alone until he's honest about it because it's putting a damper on her night. And Steve, unprepared and entirely lost, just stammers out: 'I just... I want Disney love, you know?'

His girlfriend snorts at him, tells him Disney love doesn't exist, and that he just needs to be a man and get on with it.

Normally, Steve would force a laugh, tell her she's right, bury his feelings and try to do just that. But tonight? Tonight it breaks him. Before he knows what he's doing, he's up and muttering 'I don't think this is working' and gets straight back in his car, barely hearing her calling his name, confused and angry and exasperated. He doesn't notice where he's driving until he's already pulled up outside Eddie and Wayne's house, bought with the hush-money from the government.

He shuts off the engine and just sits there, debating what to do. The truth is, Eddie is just as much his best friend as Robin - even more so, sometimes, just in a different way Steve can't explain. Eddie always knows when he's upset, and knows exactly how to hug him - which he does, regularly. Eddie know when to steer him outside if it's too loud and going to trigger a migraine, and seems to know when he needs to eat, even though Eddie himself can barely keep himself fed. And Steve knows just when Eddie's going to get overstimulated and needs to be given something to focus on to calm him down, or when Eddie's had a bad night with nightmares, and needs someone to fall asleep with on the phone, just to know someone's there with him. He knows just when Eddie needs someone he can talk to about his new campaign, because everyone in work would complain so much if Eddie rambled on there. And Steve enjoys listening to him, so why wouldn't he encourage Eddie to speak to him?

They're best friends. And right now, he needs one of Eddie's hugs. It's just he's not normally so pathetically desperate when he turns up.

The decision is made for him when the front door opens and Eddie leans against the frame, a knowing smile on his face, practically screaming 'well, are you gonna come in or what?'. And even though he fights it, Steve can't stop the tears from welling as he gets out of the car and throws himself straight into Eddie's open arms.

"Whoa whoa, hey big boy, it's okay," Eddie soothes, bringing his arms around him and squeezing with just the right amount of pressure as sobs bubble up in Steve's throat.

"That's it, let it out," Eddie adds, and fuck does it make Steve melt.

Somehow - Steve really doesn't know how - Eddie gets the door closed and brings him to the sofa, manoeuvring him until Steve is curled up on his chest, face pressed into his neck, just safe and warm and whole in his arms, despite feeling so broken. And eventually, when Steve's calmed down enough to sniffle his way through an explanation, Eddie's warm hand in the centre of his back pulling too-honest word after too-honest word out of him, instead of laughing it off or being cagey as he normally would, Eddie's there, blowing out a breath, saying 'That sucks man,' and calling his girlfriend a bitch. Well, ex-girlfriend.

"She's not. Not really." Steve mumbles. "She's probably right, anyway. Disney love doesn't exist. I just- I just want someone that wants all of me, you know? Why show us that on screen if it doesn't exist in real life?"

"It does exist, man," Eddie says, but his tone is off. It's... sad, somehow. Like he's in pain. Steve blinks at him, and within seconds, a blush is covering Eddie's cheeks.

"Er, I just mean that it is out there, and you'll definitely find it," he says, tone now too bright and too enthusiastic.

".... But." Steve prompts.

"No, no buts. You can have it, and I'm sure you will!"

Steve tilts his head to the side. "Okay... so why did you sound.. like that?"

Eddie rakes his fingers through his hair - Steve never understood how his rings didn't catch in his curls.

"I, well, it's just that sometimes... the people who could love us like that have wanted to for a long time, and we've never noticed..."

Eddie's biting his lip, his voice trailing off into nothing, and legs practically vibrating with how fast he's tapping them. And Steve can't breathe.

"Eds?" he croaks.

"It just sucks that you're straight," Eddie forces out a laugh. "Because, assuming you'd be happy with a freak like me? I'd... gods Stevie, I'd give you everything."

Steve stares at him, at the bright pink of his cheeks, the deeper red of his lips (that are going to get darker if he keeps biting them like that), at the hair he's always been just a little bit obsessed with, and feels warmth and hope bloom where air should be.

"Eds... who says I'm straight?"

It's absolutely not what he expects to come out of his mouth. He'd never questioned his sexuality, even when Will and Mike finally got together. But now, how can he know he's anything but? It's like all the stars have magically aligned and suddenly, a new path has been made clear to him. The one he should have been on years ago.

Eddie's eyes snap to his, and Steve still cannot breathe, drowning in the hope, the fear, the devotion there. He wants to whimper. Almost does.

"Wh- what?"

Steve swallows. "For you, Eds? I'd be anything."

And it's different this time. Saying those words. He's used to them being a promise to become something he's not, to put everyone and their needs ahead of himself. But with Eddie, he knows he's never be taken advantage of like that. That Eddie would do exactly the same for him.

Eddie's hand cups his cheek, the callouses from his guitar sending tingles down Steve's spine, and Steve wants to cry all over again as Eddie whispers, hesitant and hopeful, "Be mine?"

Licking his lips, Steve swallows past his thumping heart.

"For forever, and happily ever after."

#my posts #steddie #tw sexism #light sexism #but sexism all the same #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #eddie x steve #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie au #steddie fanfic #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 10 months

Note

AITA for "feeding my ex's internalised transphobia" by refusing to date a man as a lesbian? TW for internalised transphobia, mentions of rape and SA

TLDR: i am a lesbian. my teenage partner was sexually abusive to me for a year, mostly through enforced sexist rp scenarios. now, they are out as non-binary and accuse me of misandry and transandrophobia because i once told them i would not date a man regardless of his agab

I (NB20) started dating my ex (NB23) when i was 15. I was always openly a lesbian. When we met a year before we started dating, they identified as a butch. Throughout our relationship they explored their gender identity more, toying with the idea of being vaguely transmasc. I never had a problem with it; i enjoyed being in a butch/femme relationship and honouring their masculinity as much as I could.

For context, I am a very outspoken hardcore feminist; I don't like to generalise and i have a lot of love for the men in my life, but I have also made a couple of "kill all cishet men" jokes at a safe setting, with people who know exactly where I actually stand. I don't hate men, I just don't find them attractive and think they should be raised better. One day, they asked me if i would still be attracted to them if they fully transitioned and started living as a man. I told them I wouldn't; in my head, being butch/masc is extremely different to being a man, and I appreciated their presentation as a part of them being a lesbian (gender expression =/= gender identity, after all). They assured me that this was just a hypothetical question and just them being curious about my boundaries and limits, ended the conversation, and never brought it up again. My ex was very into roleplay during sex, and I was on board with it initially. After a while, however, the scenes they wanted to act out began to get extremely degrading, bordering on abusive, where they were embodying a man in a position of power (something that i was extremely uncomfortable with), while I was a vulnerable woman (usually a sex worker) getting degraded or even raped. Although I was deeply disturbed by some of the things we did, I was a child at the time, they were my first and i wasn't theirs. I wasn't ready to have sex yet and didn't know how to defend myself. Even when I tried to set a boundary, they would press on and claim it was their way of processing trauma, and that I was manipulative for attempting to withhold that from them. Eventually, with the help of a therapist and my family I ended things between us. I dreaded talking to or about them to anyone and mostly kept quiet about it all. Back to the present day, one of my old mutuals found my new account and texted me. They told me that my ex was posting about me, and that I should be ashamed of myself if what they said was true. I gathered up enough courage to view the posts myself. Their story is very different from what I remember. They claim I was being a misandrist and by extension transandriphobic (in their words, my distaste for the behaviour of cishet men was very damaging for masc people. it is weird, because healthy expressions of masculinity are the last thing i would judge a man for). They also claimed I made their internalised transphobia worse by refusing to date them if they transitioned. I have moved on with my life, but now other people are mixed in and im honestly at a loss. I never forced them to be someone they weren't with me. I never shamed them for their masculinity or discouraged them from exploring their identity, I just stated that dating a trans man wouldn't agree with my sexuality. A healthy response would be to be honest with me, and give me the right to decide for myself whether i would stay with them through their transition or only be able to support them as a friend. They could even just leave without justifying anything.

I don't know. Maybe my trauma is blinding me, but I keep going over the memories in my head trying to figure out how I might be the one behind all that hatred and violence. I don't want to be unfair to them, even if it's just in my own mind, so I'm just speaking up about it for the first time in my life through an AITA tumblr post. Any advice or insight is appreciated.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #rape cw

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elementaskylos345 · 4 months

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Hhhh Alejandro brainrot so it's time for some angsty Burromuerto home life headcanons

!! Tw for abuse !!

In my head, Mr. Burromuerto is pretty similar to Butterscotch from Bojack Horseman

He's less openly sexist but he's just as bitter, angry, and willing to bully his children

Mrs. Burromuerto is nowhere near as bad as Beatrice but she was complacent in the treatment of her children

She wasn't always but around when Al was 10 she just got so tired of fighting with her husband that she just stopped fighting for her kids

She still has high expectations for her kids but she's less aggressive about it and more passive. Still harmful but she's trying to be fair to her kids

And, of course, they refuse to get a divorce

Alejandro was basically doomed from the beginning. Impossible expectations, his parents falling out of love, and a very competitive environment

No matter what he did it was never enough, especially to his father. Straight As, perfect health, and a blossoming social life were expected and anything less was a shame

This also extended to José but to a lesser extent as the expectations for him were more realistic (and he mostly met these expectations)

José DOES genuinely love and care about Alejandro he just - he's never seen a healthy relationship so he can't express his care properly. And with the competitive environment the parents of the year fostered did not help at all

Carlos had it the easiest. Somewhat realistic expectations and parents that genuinely loved each other. Course, he had to watch his parents get angrier and more distant and witness his little brothers bear the brunt of it

Carlos wasn't entirely innocent either, as he did just dip without extending help to his brothers. He regrets this. Like, a LOT.

The pressure from his father (unsurprisingly) led to Al developing anxiety and depression that began to worsen, leading up to him signing up for total drama. His grades were beginning to slip (getting a C every now and then) and his dad was NOT happy

He did not talk about his family life with the other contestants, but he was so fucking confused when they talked about their home lives. To him, the competition, constant stress, and the need to be no less than perfect were just so normal to him.

So, yeah, this family has not known love for at least 10 years at the minimum and only Carlos knows this isn't normal

This has been my insane 2 am Burromuerto family ramblings, g'day

#headcannons #angst #tw abuse #td alejandro #td josé #td carlos #total drama #this family is barely functional

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redditreceipts · 9 months

Note

i used to be a massive trans supporter like proselytized to my friends and family massive, but over the years the movement got more homophobic and sexist and i started really questioning things when people started claiming that trans women don't ever have to reflect on growing up with male privilege. suggesting a tw was being misogynist or saying they need to check the male entitlement baggage they bring with them became heresy and that was the beginning of the end for me

me too! I find it really interesting what peaked people around here, because gender critical tumblr might be one of the few places on the internet where the overwhelming majority of people used to believe in the very ideology they are now advocating against... the only other places on the web are probably places where ex-mormons, ex-muslims, ex-jehovas witnesses and so on meet.

I personally got peaked because of philosphy tube. this was just so clearly a grift. him coming out as a "trans lesbian" sent me back to all of the delusional autogynephiles I had to console back in my TRA days.

well, welcome to the club lmao

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samalong1 · 1 year

Text

How to survive being Gluskin's brids

Tw mentions of childhood sa,abuse,nsfw,and gluskin being gluskin

Ima write fluff for him after

-he's in control period he needs to be if he's in control nothing can hurt him or you

-dont challenge this doing something small will send him into a rage with thrown furniture and smashen plates and if you did something really bad in his eyes your face

-laughs at any mention of truama he may have "oh darling you and your worry" he'd coo brushing it off denying it but his first of rage of his power being slightly taken down and the sobbing he'd do in the locked bathroom not wanting you to see him "be so womenly" as he'd say and deny him ever doing so

-never bring up therapy not after murkoff not if you want your neck to be bruise freed and not having things like whore shouted I'm your face he already escaped he isn't going back even if its healthy therapy he so desperately needs

-just be a good lil house wife wearing his 50's themed dresses with a tight chinched waist and bright heels

-if you want his comfort his hugs and praises to be wrapped up in his arms safe from his rage on his lap as be absently plays with your hair on the couch while he sings that dreaded song you'll just gave to submit to be his helpless lil wife

-he's constantly ogling you he loves his darling wife figure every curve and bump on her skin but really being able to grab and grope you makes him feel so strong and powerful able to bend you to his will

-he'll love dressing you like your his 1950's house wife prancing over in your low neckline tight waist dress with the cute patten sleeves and the long hem that twirls so gracefully with you as you take off his work jacket as you kiss his cheek so happy to have your protector and provider back home as your proudly tell him what roast or casserole you made so lovingly after dinner

-whats his job oh he'll just laugh "oh it isn't a woman's place to worry just know it gives us enough" he'll say proudly proud to provide for his family

-outside of work when he isn't constantly hovering over you singing songs and making sexist remarks as he rubs your waist while telling you how much he loves your child bearing hips he'll be in his office making you more dresses with bright colours and playful patterns his favorite being fruit ones of your lucky you can catch a glimpse of him making a lovely button up dress with a flowing skirt covered in a lemon pattern under the bright yellow ribbon while your cherry patterned dress hung off you while you wipe your hands off on your apron from doing the dishes

-only a peak though as he open the doors briefly he'll see you trying to Leer in and would chuckle and pat your head "such a impatient minx so excited for your husband spoils" but he'll always keep the door closed he hates being watched as he works that's what would lead to him being preyed on as a child when he was coloring or doing homework on the dinner table

-though sometimes he'll grow frustrated saying be can't get the shape and design to elevate but not overpower his wife's beauty but your starting to believe it's more sadistic from how his eyes gleam with how you jumped or yelp when pricked with a needle or how hungry his eyes were when there was a prick of blood as he comforts you scolding his big clumsy hands he loves the comforting you even if it's from his own mistakes or abuse it made him feel big

-also the possessiveness he has scared of the life he always dreamed of and daydreamed of his darkness moments scared some animal undeserving of the wife he sculpted to be perfection would be torn away

-because of that all his dresses will have his name sewn inside the hem to determine any dirty dogs who managed to lift it

-not like you ever manage to go out alone he'll say something sly like "what husband will I be letting a vulnerable minx like you put you need your husband to protect you" its somewhat true but he'll also be giving any man who glances at you the dirtiest angriest glare while his arm wrapped around your waist tightened so scary that the poor teenage cashier didn't dare make eye contact

-though sometimes when he's out at work you'll go out not wanting to wait till the evening to go out and to likely be turned down eith how tired he is from work and how he just needs his wife's cooking and a good foot massage

-one time you got caught when his work let him out early and he was wager to drive home and enter his wife's embrace

-you can't escape his yelling and insults and grip so tight on your wrist it'll bruise but if you simply look down and flutter your eyelashes even after his smack and being called a whore and just tell him that you wanted to get something for dinner and it couldn't wait he'll ease up and blame your woman drive to care for him to overlook your saftey

-if you want to Amp it up just whine and nuzzle into his hand that just hit you and say that you felt nauseous and thought that you finally may be pregnant and you coudnt wait for him to get a pregnancy test and that you also wanted to suprise him it'll quickly put you in his tight embrace and his cooes forgiving you as he goes to clean your wounds

-speaking of kids app sex will have some breeding undertones saying how he'll fill you with his seed and how goof of a mother you'll be

-it's not just cause he so desperately wants a family or a breeding kink but to him it gives the filthy whoreish act meaning and makes it a beautiful step to creating his legacy unlike past acts as a child

-also constantly being called a whore one time you wanted extra good wife points you dressed up in lingeri and the whole time he was slamming into you he was calling you a whore for seducing such a good man like him

-but after he'll grumbled under his breath about you never doing it again

-after sex he'll do his best for aftercare gently wiping you clean and kissing you softly and praising how good of a wife and hopefully if it takes a good mother but you need to praise him

-tell him how good he did and how good of a husband he is and how happy you are to have him and how you love his loyalty just praise sex is vulnerable even more to him and he needs to feel safe after and during

-because of this never try to be a top or play a more dominant role any ask will get you a dangerous glare and a flat out no and if you do something that he sees as you trying to take a lead like riding him and other things it'll instantly stop and he'll get up and go to the kitchen to open some wine accident or not give him space and apologize for acting so whorish and praising him even more

-don't ever try and take the lead without him knowing in a drastic way (not just cause of lack of consent on his part) but as soon as his arms or tied or blindfolded he freaks like in the beginning of whistle-blower screaming and kicking till the restraint is off and the moment your in his line of sight his hands are suffocating you and things hit the walls shattering if you survive you'll forever be labeled a ungrateful whore in his eyes and if he manages to control his urge to string you up to the ceiling like in the gym you'll be locked outside without a word

-short case don't

#eddie gluskin #outlast whistleblower #eddie gluskin x reader #outlast x reader #tw dead dove

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jessicaloons · 1 year

Text

Chapter 12:

They think that it’s over but it’s just begun…

Masterlist - Previous - Next

TW: mentions of eating disorder, misogynist / sexist comments

Thailand. Sun. Fun. Beach. Cocktails. Family. The last 7 days went by in a breeze of snorkeling, surfing, sunbathing, sunrises and sunsets on the beach, long nights by the pool, board games, movie nights and delicious food. It was perfect to relax and calm down before the day to day life of recovery, therapy and nutrition charts would be the main focus in my life again.

I watched as Liam on Charles' shoulders and Benji on Arthur’s had a little water fight in the pool and laughed when Liam pushed Benji off of Arthur into the water, splashing all of us in the process.

"We won, Charlie!" Liam shouted and did a little victory dance on Charles’ shoulders.

"That we did, Bubba!" Charles said and laughed "But now, prepare for the end!" and with that he let himself fall back into the water, dumping Liam.

"Let’s do it again!" were his first words as soon as he emerged from the water. Charles just chuckled and did it again and again.

"Liam, let’s give Charles a little break, what are you saying?" Sissy said and Liam just pouted at her "It’s his vacation, too!"

Liam sighed and climbed out of the pool, sitting down next to me.

"I didn’t say you have to get out!" Sissy said and rubbed his arm gently "Just that Charles needs a little break, okay? You want me to play with you?"

"No, it’s ok." Liam whispered and got up.

"Where are you going, Bubba?" I asked him but he just shrugged his shoulders, walking past me, back into the house. I saw how Charles watched him leave and he looked at me, but I shrugged my shoulders, just like Liam did. I got up as Charles got out of the pool, quickly dried himself up and followed me inside, looking for Liam.

"Is it still because of the Christmas party from the nursery school?" Charles asked me and I shook my head

"I have no idea…" I answered as we searched for Liam, finding him in his bedroom that he shared with his mother.

"Hey, little one!" I said and walked in "What are you doing?"

"Reading…" he answered and I chuckled a little.

"You’re not even 3, you’re not supposed to be able to read already!" I said and he shrugged his shoulders.

"I’m not really reading… It’s a comic, I see the pictures and know what’s happening and then I figure the words out…" he whispered and Charles looked impressed.

"You’re the smartest kid I’ve ever met! You’re not even 3 but you already speak German, English and French! And now you’re telling me that you’re reading a comic!" Charles smiled at Liam who only looked up once, smiling a little and then continued.

"Frau Lauter says that’s because I’m used to all 3 languages since my birth…and I’m not really reading." he explained quietly.

"You know that your Mum didn’t mean it in a bad way? She wasn’t scolding you, Bubba. She just meant that since we’re here Charles hadn’t had a quiet moment… so she just wanted you to let him relax a little…" I began and Liam nodded, closing his comic.

"I’m sorry Charlie, I didn’t want to annoy you, please don’t hate me now… I’ll leave you alone from now on." Liam said and got up and I could see the tears in his eyes, but before he could walk away Charles grabbed his hand and pulled him gently back.

"Hey, hey, hey! No one said something about you annoying me! And I don’t want you to leave me alone! And why on earth would you think I could hate you?" Charles' voice was sweet and comforting and Liam just looked down on the floor "What’s going on?" Liam sniffled and looked at Charles.

"I saw the pictures in the group chat from the nursery school on Mama’s phone… There were a lot of family pictures… and all the other kids… they all have a dad and they all celebrated Christmas together, but I didn't! Why doesn’t my dad want me?" he cried and my heart broke. Charles pulled Liam in his lap and hugged him close to his chest "Did I do something to him? Is something wrong with me? Why does he hate me?" his sobbing got worse and Charles gently stroked his back.

"There is nothing wrong with you and you didn’t do anything wrong, Liam! You’re perfect the way you are and we all love you so, so much! It’s your dad’s fault! And only his, that he doesn’t want to get to know such an amazing little boy like you, you hear me? He’s the one who does something wrong and not you! I know it hurts seeing all of your friends having fun with their dads, that is something I can’t change, although I wish I could, believe me! But no matter what it is, you know you can always come to me? And not only me! To all of us! Okay?" Charles said as he gently wiped the tears from Liam's face "I love you, my Bubba! Never forget that! Your dad is missing out on having the most amazing little fella as his kid… his loss!" Liam smiled a little.

"Sometimes I wish, you were my dad…" he whispered and snuggled into Charles arms, who choked up, tears in his eyes.

"I might not be your dad, Liam, but I will always be there for you, whenever you need me!" Charles answered quietly and kissed his head, then he looked up at me, gesturing for me to come closer. I scooted over and he pulled me into his side, then he kissed my temple and just then I realised the tears that were streaming down my face.

"Your dad is an idiot for not wanting to be your dad, my pretty boy! He missed out on so much!" I said and Liam looked up at me before he kissed my nose and made himself comfortable between myself and Charles. After a while Liam’s sniffling died down and he breathed evenly. I looked down and saw that he fell asleep.

"I hate him so much for doing this to him." I whispered and Charles nodded "I understand why he wants you as his dad. You’re amazing."

"I mean, he makes it easy, you know?" he answered and I smiled at him.

"Yeah, that might be true, but still. You’re going to be an amazing dad!" I said and Charles blushed a little.

"Just like you’re going to be an amazing mum…" he looked at me intently and my eyes wandered to his lips. Soft and plush and right in front of me, only leaning in a little. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, feeling Charles' warm breath fanning over my face as Liam stirred and we both looked down.

I shook my head. Why did these thoughts enter my mind so often in the last days? I looked over at Charles who smiled at me. I swallowed hard and looked out into the jungle.

I didn’t know how long we sat like this and when I fell asleep, but when I opened my eyes, I laid in the bed I shared with Charles. Liam next to me and Charles on his other side, both fast asleep. I carefully got up and left the room, making as little noise as possible. Downstairs the rest of the family was gathered around the kitchen, with Mum, Pascale, Lisa and Sissy preparing some food, Carla and Arthur setting the table, Dad and Marcus busy with the barbecue on the terrace and Lorenzo and Benji playing Connect Four.

"Hey, I wanted to come up and wake you guys." Sissy said as I walked over to the kitchen and grabbed a glass from a shelf, filling it with some sparkling water. My head was pounding and I downed the glass in one go.

"Yeah, I’ll go and get them in a minute…" I mumbled, sitting down on a stool.

"You don’t look good, ma fille?" Pascale said as she filled my glass again.

"Yeah, crying a lot and falling asleep on the floor isn’t really a good combination…" I answered and Sissy looked up "I don’t even know how I got into bed?"

"Charles carried you two, you were so entangled with each other that he didn’t want to separate you and wake you up. And as he laid you down, Liam had his arm in an iron grip, so yeah…" Sissy explained and I looked at the clock over her shoulder, we slept for almost 3 hours.

"Did Charles tell you what Liam said?" I asked her and she nodded.

"Yeah, he did…" she sighed.

"I’m sorry." I mumbled but Sissy shook her head.

"No, it is what you guys said! He’s the one at fault here and he’s the one missing out on him! His loss!" she answered and I heard Liams faint giggling behind me, I turned around and Charles came down the stairs, with Liam on his hip, holding tight onto him.

"Smells amazing! What are we having? Bubba and I woke up from the delicious smell!" he said and nuzzled his nose against Liams cheek who giggled even louder.

"We’re huuuungry!" he laughed and Charles sat him down next to me, before he grabbed two glasses, filling them with water and setting one down in front of Liam. Then he kissed his head and walked over to the barbecue "I could eat a whole buffalo!"

"Well, a nice steak must be enough, beef, no buffalo, sorry little man!" Dad said and turned the meat on the barbecue "If you’re done ladies, I think we can eat!"

We set all the delicious smelling and looking food down on the huge table on the terrace and sat down, Liam not leaving Charles' side. When we were all sitting down Dad raised his glass.

"Cheers to our wonderful family, having again the most amazing time together! Cheers to us and to the beautiful Thailand!" he said and we all toasted our glasses together.

"How’s the therapy going?" JK asked as we made our way back home after our 5km run.

"It’s good, slowly but steady." I answered and he nodded.

"What did you tell your family? And Charles?" he looked at me and I sighed.

"I told them about the eating disorder and how this constant positivity was doing nothing but dragging me down, that I struggled a lot with anxiety and still do… and well yeah Charles found out about Camille, how she treated me and we had a good conversation after he broke up with her… I told him that she triggered my anxiety and also that she was the main reason for my eating disorder…" I said and JK smiled at me.

"I’m proud of you, Liz! Really! Your blood results were always good. Christian said you were always attending therapy if not in person than at least via phone or zoom. You made huge progress in your recovery! Amazing!" he said and as we arrived at home I took a deep breath. Feeling how much easier it was to breathe after such a run "You need your spray?"

"Yeah, but it’s not too bad, like I don’t need it immediately? It’s okay…" I said and JK gently patted my back.

"You see… it’s getting better and better with each day! When we continue like this? I’d say you’ll sit in April already in the car again!" he smiled and I nodded.

"That would be amazing!" I answered "Now come on! Stretching and a bit of weights!"

"Let’s go!" he answered and we went inside.

After our holiday in Thailand I’ve been training a lot. Going twice a week to therapy, even had once a week a cooking session with a nutritionist. It was all going extraordinarily well. My lung capacity was increasing on a daily basis. Less and less I needed the inhalator after longer runs. My legs weren’t burning that bad anymore but most importantly: my back felt great. The bones in my spine were almost completely healed, the screws and titan plate were doing an amazing job. I was more than a little relieved. Maybe I could be back in the car sooner than I thought? I only needed someone to let me drive.

Charles POV:

"That looks fire, Joris!" I said as I watched the edit of Lizzie’s highlights in karting, GP3, F2 and WSeries "That should seal the deal! I only need to send it now to Seb and then we wait!" I couldn’t wait for Seb to see the video. I sent it to him and waited for his response. Just 5 minutes later my phone rang.

"Hi Seb!" I greeted him.

"Hey Charles, how are you doing?" the German driver asked.

"Good, good. And you? How’s the family?"

"Everything’s fine! The video? Amazing! If they see that? That should seal the deal!" Seb said excitedly.

"Yeah, I said the same to Joris! I really hope this will help!" I said.

"It’s a good reminder how amazing she is!" Seb replied and I nodded.

"Yeah, I guess that’s all we can do? Remind them how great she is!" I sighed a little.

"I’ll send it over and then we’ll see. I gotta go now, but as soon as I hear something, I’m calling you! Bye Charles!"

"Hear you soon, bye Seb!" and the line went dead.

"Seb will send it to Audi?" Joris asked and I nodded.

"Yeah… I really hope it will help! Lizzie deserves a seat! But above all she needs to get back in the car otherwise she will go crazy!" I answered and sat down on the sofa "I mean, she’s doing great, she gets healthier each day! But it’s just- for now she’s busy with her recovery and everything, but I’m afraid how she will feel as soon as she’s fit again and she has nothing more to do…"

"Audi will give her a chance! I’m sure!" Joris said and patted my back "And as soon as she’s finally on the grid and all her dreams come true you can confess your feelings for her and you two can finally start dating!"

"Ha-ha! Funny guy…" I rolled my eyes but Joris just shrugged his shoulders.

"I’m manifesting it…" he said and I chuckled.

"Keep doing that!" I said and Joris patted my back.

I looked up, as an unknown number called me.

"Who has my number in Munich?" I said and dad looked up.

"I don’t know? Take the call and you know it?" he answered, muting the TV.

"Hello?" I accepted the call.

"Hello, is this Lizzie? Lizzie Doetterer?" a male voice asked.

"Yes, that’s me." I answered.

"Perfect, hi Lizzie, can I call you Lizzie? My name is Felix Bayer, I’m the CEO and future Team Principal of the Audi Sport Formula 1 Team." he introduced himself and I was shell shocked, dad looking at me worried.

"Umm, hi Mr. Bayer!" I pressed out anxiously.

"Please, call me Felix! I’m calling you to ask you if you’re interested in testing out our Formula 1 car for us? We would like to have you here in our faculties first, for a seat fitting and some simulator work, before we test out the car on a real racetrack. What are you saying?" Felix explained.

"You want me? Are you sure?" I asked nervously.

"Yes? Aren’t you the Lizzie Doetterer who won the F2 championship with an 80+ points gap in 2018 and the WSeries in 2019?" he answered and I laughed.

"I mean, I am, but still… why?" I was confused, who would want me to test their car?

"Because we hope that if we work well together and the car suits you, that you’ll be one of our drivers for the 2022 Formula 1 season!" Felix said and I dropped my phone, the loud clatter made me jump and I picked it back up.

"You mean as your reserve driver, right?" I asked and he laughed.

"No, we hoped you would agree to be one of our 2 main drivers! If you’re interested of course." he answered.

"YES! Yes! Of course!" I almost shouted "I’m sorry! I’m just… wow, you’re not joking? This is serious? You want me?"

"No, I’m not joking. Yes, we really want you! I have all your contact details, don’t worry. I’ll send you an email with everything you need to know, with the dates and stuff." he said and I nodded.

"Ok, umm perfect! Yes! Send it, I’ll wait!" my voice was shaking.

"Any more questions?" Felix asked.

"No, wait… yes! You said 2022 season? Next year?" I asked.

"Yes, it’s a secret for now, but as soon as you’ve tested the car and everything is set, the official announcement comes shortly after! I’ll leave you to it, for now! Have a nice day and I’ll call you in the next few days, alright?" he said.

"Yes! Perfect! Thank you! Have a nice day too! Goodbye!" I said.

"Goodbye, Lizzie."

I put the phone down and Dad looked at me worried.

"Lizzie? What’s going on?" he asked me and I just stared at him.

"Can you get Mum?" I asked and he nodded and got up, I sent a quick text to Charles if I could call him and a second later my phone rang.

"What’s up, ma belle?" he smiled at me and I smiled back "What’s going on?"

"Alright, we’re here!" Dad said and returned with Mum "Oh, hi Charles!"

"Hi guys? What’s going on?" Charles waved at my parents as I turned my phone so he could see them and they both shrugged their shoulders.

"Guys, I just got a call from Felix Bayer… future Team Principal of the Audi Sport Formula 1 team… he asked me if I wanted to test out their new car and when I like it… if I wanted to be one of their main drivers for the team for the 2022 Formula 1 season…" I said and it got quiet for a moment before they all started to scream and shout.

"What!!?!?! WHAT? Congratulations!"

"We knew you would make it one day!"

"I’m so happy for you!"

"We’re so proud of you!"

"No one deserves a seat more than you, ma belle!"

Mum and Dad both hugging me, Charles just smiling at me from the screen.

"Thank you guys! Really! I would’ve never come this far without you!" I cried and Dad wiped away my tears.

"You did it because you’re the strongest person out there!" he said and hugged me again.

"We have to celebrate!" Charles said and I laughed.

"You’re leaving in 2 days for Bahrain! There’s no time to celebrate! I mean, we shouldn’t celebrate already! What if I test out the car and I suck and they say thank you, next!" I sighed and Dad nudged my shoulder.

"Pessimistic much? Stop that! They want you, you’ll be amazing. Period!" he said and Charles nodded.

"Exactly! What about, you go, have the seat fitting and whatever you need to do and then you guys come to Bahrain?" Charles asked and I nodded, we had already planned on me joining him for his first race and as Mum and Dad said nothing against it Charles smiled "Perfect! I’ll take care of it!"

"No you’re not, we’re doing that ourselves!" Dad interjected but Charles didn’t react, in fact he didn’t even flinch "Charles?"

"So-… what? Ba-… co-…! Can’t he-…! Ca-… lat-…! Bye!" and with that he hung up.

"Did he just faked, having no service? In the middle of Monaco? At home? Next to his WiFi router?" Dad stared at the screen and I had to contain my laughter.

"Hi Lizzie, I’m Pete, one of the race engineers. It’s good to meet you!" one of the men working at the car walked up to me.

"We’re hoping, if everything works out the way we plan, that Pete would be your race engineer?" Felix explained and Pete nodded.

"We’ll see how today works out, I’d say and then we go from there!"

"So that’s the beauty?" I asked and walked around the car "Looks good! I like the side pods and the floor fence looks different then on the other F1 cars?"

"Yeah we’re playing with different designs, this one had the best results in terms of aerodynamics." Pete said and I nodded.

"That’s a smaller rear wing? I reckon there’s a bigger one as well?" I kneeled down to look at the rear wing flap.

"Yes, that’s the smallest one we have. We have two more, basically small, medium, large." he chuckled a little.

"I’m not gonna lie, it’s been a while since I drove an F1 car… and with the new regulations, there is a lot I don’t know or understand yet, but I will give it my all, to catch up with everything!" I said and Felix patted my shoulder a little.

"Don’t worry Lizzie, for now we just want the feedback from the simulator. As soon as the guys have the data to analyse, the car will change totally! So I’d say let them work and we’re going to the sim!" he said and I followed him.

The Audi faculties were amazing, everything was new, looked shiny and fancy. And the technology and equipment was from the highest quality. Newest standard. The simulator looked amazing.

"Hop on in and let’s go!" Felix said and I smiled at him.

"Alright, then let’s start!" I answered and got into the simulator.

After almost 3 hours Felix waved at me and I took off the headset.

"How was it?" he asked and I smiled at him.

"Amazing! It feels good to be back in the car. I mean… you know. This is as close as it gets." I said and got out.

"Yeah, you seemed to have a lot of fun! That’s good! That’s important!" he said and I smiled at him "We’re having lunch now, I’d like you to meet the whole engineer team."

"Perfect!" I nodded and waved to the two data analysts that were sitting behind the simulator.

After Lunch, it was time for the seat fitting. I felt giddy and excited, getting back into the car after such a long time. I took my shoes off and climbed in, scooted down and as soon as I sat right and looked ahead I felt overwhelmed.

"How does it feel?" Pete asked next to me.

"Amazing!" I answered, voice choked up.

"I’ll give you a moment." Pete whispered and patted my arm, before he waved the other engineers to follow him.

After such a long time returning back into the car, a chance to drive next season, the long recovery it all flooded my mind and I took a deep breath. The feeling was great. The car felt great. I grabbed the steering wheel and closed my eyes. Thought about driving the car on a track.

"What’s the verdict?" Felix asked and crouched down next to me.

"When can we get this beauty on a track?" I replied and he chuckled.

"I’d say we need some time to further develop the car after we gathered the data from your sim work and then I guess we’re ready!" he said and I climbed out of the car.

"I can’t wait." I smiled at him "Is there a track nearby? Or where do we test the car?"

"I thought about Hockenheim."

"It was amazing! The facilities? It was all hightech! The newest technologies! It looked like something from the future! I swear! And the engineers? The mechanics? The analysts? They’re all so friendly! And funny! And the car? Charles, it’s amazing! The simulator! It was so fast! Pete said they collected some good data from the sim work and they will develop the car further! And now the best! The track we’re testing on? Hockenheim! Charles, I will be driving at home!" I told Charles and he smiled at me.

"That sounds amazing! I’m really happy for you! And you said on the 12th? You know I’ll be there! I’m so excited!" Charles said and I nodded "And I’m sure Seb will be there too!"

"I can’t believe it, Charles! It’s like… god! Charlie, if I'm making no mistakes and make some good laps, I’ll be driving in F1 next year! Can you believe it?" I looked at him and he just hugged me.

"I had no doubt, ma belle!" he whispered and I sighed "Finally our dream comes true!"

"Amazing!" I said and sat down on the sofa.

"Very amazing!" Charles said and sat down next to me.

"So… tomorrow. First time I’ll see the Ferrari crew again…" I began and Charles pulled me into his side.

"Most of the team didn’t understand their decision… Gino was mad! But it doesn’t matter anymore! You’re now driving for Audi anyway. You don’t need them!" he said and I nodded.

"Yeah… you’re right." I mumbled "It’s still awkward."

"I know, but I’ll be there. It’s going to be fine, ma belle. Show them how strong you are!" Charles said and I looked up at him, his eyes full of love and pride.

"What would I do without you?" I whispered and he leaned down a little, I felt the butterflies going crazy in my stomach.

"You’ll never find out. It’s you and me against the world, ma belle. Always." he said, being as close as ever.

"P4! Charlie is on P4!" Liam chirped and we all cheered for him.

"He did a great job!" Dad clapped excitedly.

"Can we go to him?" Liam asked and I shook my head.

"He’ll be here any minute, Bubba!" I said and we waited for Charles to return. "He’s not going to be happy.”

"It was the best he could achieve with the car…" Dad whispered and I nodded "But yeah, you’re probably right."

And I was right. When Charles entered the garage he thanked the team and walked up to us, Liam already jumping at him.

"You’re P4 Charlie! That’s so good!" Liam smiled at him and I could see the tension falling off of him.

"Yeah, it’s not bad! I can work with that!" he smiled at him and walked over to us.

"Hey Charlie bear! You did good!" I whispered as I hugged him.

"Thanks, ma belle!" he whispered back.

"Tomorrow is the race, Charles! You’ll do great!" Dad said and Charles smiled.

"I’ll do my best."

I watched Liam curling up on Charles, falling asleep, after a couple of minutes. I gently tapped Charles' knee who looked up.

"I can lay him down?" I whispered but Charles shook his head, hugging Liam closer.

"No, he’s like my comfort blanket!" he said and I smiled.

"Don’t be too hard on yourself… it was only the first race of the season." I said and he closed his eyes, leaning his head back.

"A McLaren overtook me… I don’t know. I thought our car will be better this season." he mumbled and looked out of the window into the night sky.

"Let’s see how the next races go!" I said and he nodded.

"Yeah, we’ll see."

The whole drive to Hockenheim felt unreal. I would be driving a real F1 car for the first time in years! The last time was in 2018, when I drove Charles Sauber in FP1 in Hungary.

"Nervous?" Dad asked and I shook my head.

"Nope. Excited!" I smiled.

"It’s going to be amazing! You will fly!" Charles said and Joris nodded.

"I guess we’ll see!" I said, looking outside, seeing the Südtribune in front of us.

"Don’t worry, Lizzie, you got this!" Joris said and I smiled.

"Alright! Ready?" Dad asked as we parked the car, walking towards the entrance where a group of men already waited for us. I saw Felix, Pete, some of the mechanics I met and Sebastian, who smiled at me and pulled me in for a big hug.

"Hey you!" he said and released me.

"Hi Seb! Thank you so much for coming!" I replied and Seb nodded.

"Nothing could’ve stopped me from seeing you today! I’m so proud of you!" he looked serious but his smile was genuine "This will change everything!"

I greeted the rest of the group, introducing my dad, Charles and Joris.

"I’d say let’s go, right?" Felix clapped his hands and we followed him in.

30 minutes later I was suited and booted and climbed into the car, got strapped in and made a successful radio check.

Then I waited for the flag and accelerated, starting with some out laps to warm up the tyres. The car felt amazing. After 5 test laps I was ready for my first timed lap.

"Pete? I think I’m good to go!"

"Alright. Then drive into the first grid box and we will start the lights."

"Copy."

I did as told and waited for the lights to turn out. I saw Dad, Charles, Joris and Seb standing at the fence, cheering me on and I smiled. This was it. I could prove myself. I could show everyone how good I really was and most importantly, I could show it to the people who always believed in me. One last deep breath. And the lights were out.

I was flying through the 17 turns, trying my best to hit the apex at all the right times, not going to hard over the curbs. As I was crossing the finish line I let out a euphoric scream. It felt amazing. Exhausting. But amazing.

"That was fantastic. Do one out lap and then another flying lap."

"Copy."

I warmed my tyres and found myself again in the grid box and again I accelerated when the lights went out. This time I felt like I was even faster than before.

"Alright Lizzie, box after this lap"

"Okay."

They showed me the data, where I should adjust my driving, and where to brake less. I drank some water and after I got some fresh tires I drove back on track. It’s been a long time since I had this much fun.

Lap after lap after lap I drove, getting faster and faster. But after a while I could feel my back starting to hurt a little. My arms and legs were getting exhausted, my head got heavier with each lap. I knew that this would happen eventually. But I was proud that I made it this far.

"Alright Lizzie, one last set of softs for the last lap of the day."

"Copy." I drove into the pits, got my fresh tires and started to warm my tires. One last lap to show them how good I am! Now it was important to set the best lap time of the day.

"You were flying! I told you so!" Charles pulled me in for a hug as soon as I was out of the car.

"You did an amazing job, kiddo!" Seb said and I smiled at him.

"Fantastic job, Lizzie. Get out of your suit, have something to drink and then let’s get all inside to check your lap times!" Pete said and I smiled at him.

"Alright!" I replied and walked into the little locker room to change. I sat down. Took some deep breaths. I did it. I really did it. I ignored the throbbing in my back and legs, for now I was happy.

"So, your first lap was a 1:28:45, that’s decent. Since the new car regulations we have no data to compare the time for real. Although we got some simulator times from Alfa Romeo, Giovinazzi drove it. So loosely we’ve got some times. Your best time was in fact your last lap, with a 1:21:07. More than 7 seconds faster than your first lap! That’s impressive!" Pete showed us the graphs and Seb patted my back.

"Damn good job, Lizzie!" he said, proudly.

"What was the lap time of the Alfa Romeo?" I asked and Pete pointed at the screen.

"1:23:59." he said and I looked at him.

"I was faster than the Alfa Romeo?" I exclaimed and Pete nodded.

"Over 1.5 seconds to be exact. Well done Lizzie! This was only your first session! Amazing job!" he said and I checked the screen again.

"I guess, it’s now only a formality, but Lizzie, we at the Audi Sport F1 Team want you as one of our drivers for the next season. What are you saying?" Felix asked and I smiled.

"YES! Of course it’s a YES!" I almost shouted it and Dad hugged me to his side.

"I’m so proud of you, my little owl!" he whispered and I choked up a little.

"You guys have no idea what this means to me! Thank you all so much!" I said and wiped the tears from my eyes.

Charles POV:

When we arrived at home later in the evening we walked in on Sissy on the phone with someone, looking annoyed.

"Yeah, thank you. You too." she hung up and sighed.

"What’s going on?" Lizzie asked and opened the fridge and handed Juergen, Joris and me a bottle of water before she grabbed one for herself. Juergen and Joris walked over into the living room where Joris showed Juergen some of the shots he made today. Lizzie and I looked at Sissy.

"That was the nursery school. There was a little problem today." she said and Lizzie and I looked intently at her.

"What happened?” I asked.

"They were playing with race cars and there was a Ferrari… your Ferrari. And Liam said that this is his uncle's car, he’s driving it for work… well they didn’t believe him, calling him a liar, saying that you’re not his uncle and when Liam started to cry they started making fun of him, so he hit one of them…" Sissy explained and I looked at Liam, who was sitting at the counter, staring at his lap.

"I’d say well done! Glad that I don’t have to go there, kicking their asses!" Lizzie mumbled and I had to contain my laughter.

"So it’s okay when they’re bullying him, but it’s not okay when he defends himself? Again?" I asked and she sighed.

"I don’t know what to do… I mean, I told him to not talk about you anymore, but now that he said it once they will use it to agitate him…" she sat down and leaned back.

"Well, I know what we‘re doing…" I walked over to Liam "So, tomorrow I‘ll be picking you up from nursery school. And then you can show me the kids… I would love to say hello to them." He looked up with big eyes.

"Can you do that?" he asked excitedly and I nodded.

"When they’re messing with you, they’re messing with me!" I answered and he leaped into my arms "It’s going to be ok, Bubba." I heard him sniffle a bit.

"That’s why you’re my favourite uncle!" he whispered and I almost choked. Now I was even more determined to kick their asses. Verbally.

Monaco was again a weekend to forget, not just the abstruse conspiracy theories going around what car I was driving in Hockenheim and why Audi commented. No it was also another heartbreak weekend for Charles.

He looked horrible. Sitting on the railing. Eyes downcast. Cap drawn down as far as possible. I saw how many of the other drivers walked over to him, comforting him, but although he smiled faintly at them, I could see the pain in his eyes. He was on pole in his home race. He had every chance there is to finally be able not just to finish a race here, not but to win in, but a technical issue with the car destroyed his dream. His race was over before it even started. And the nagging feeling if the mechanical failure was a consequence from his crash in qualifying yesterday was omnipresent. He slowly made his way back to the garage after a quick chat with Seb and a last hug. He looked crestfallen as he walked in, thanking but also apologising to all the mechanics and each and everyone in the garage before he made his way up to me. I hugged him tight. Gently stroking his back.

"I’m so sorry, Charlie! I’m so, so sorry!" I whispered and I could feel my shirt dampen a little. I held him for a couple of minutes like this, then he pulled away.

"It’s my fault. It’s all my fault. I destroyed all of our hopes. Why did I push the car so much?" he mumbled.

"Because you always want to be the best. And yesterday you were a bit too eager, Charles! It’s okay… I mean, no it’s not, but you know what I mean… you’ll come back stronger! Now let’s get you out of your suit and watch the race from your room. Or rather not watch it… whatever you want!" I said quietly and he let go of me.

"Yeah, let’s go." he answered, devastated and took my hand, dragging me back into his driver's room.

Charles POV:

"Are you sure you can handle him? Like all on your own? He’s a handful! And I don’t want you to be stressed!" Lizzie asked me and I nodded.

"Yep. That’s okay, we will watch Arthur and then we’ll go back into the garage and I’ll show him everything and then you guys are coming anyway, right? Relax, Lizzie! For some reason I always have a good feeling around here in Spielberg! It’s going to be alright!" I said and Liam had the biggest smile on his face.

"Liam, you have to listen to everything that Charles says, okay? Usually we’re a lot more people having an eye on you, so please stay by his side and listen!" Juergen said and the little one just giggled.

"I will listen to everything that Charlie says! And I will not leave his side! I’ll always stay close to him! Can we go now please? I want to see Arthi race!" Liam pulled me towards the door and I waved Lizzie and her Dad goodbye.

"He was pretty good! P3 is good, right?" Liam asked as I sat him on the fence, waiting for Arthur to get out of his car to congratulate him.

"It is good! Really good!" I answered and Arthur came up to us.

"Arthi!" Liam yelled and Arthur took him in his arms.

"Hello little man! No wonder I was driving this good when you cheered for me!" he said and Liam giggled "You have to come to every race from now on!"

"I will!" Liam said and Arthur handed him back to me and I hugged him.

"Good race! Well done!" I said and Arthur smiled.

"More wasn’t manageable. So I’ll take it!" he said and his Team congratulated him.

"Come on Bubba, we gotta go back now. The guys need the space now!" I sat Liam down and he took my hand.

"Can I sit in your car?" he asked after a while and I nodded.

"I think we can do that." I answered and his face lit up.

"So cool! You have to take a picture of me! And send it to Mama! And she can show it to everyone at nursery school! So they’re all jealous!" Liam said and I laughed.

"100 % we’re doing that!" I said and he smiled happily.

Back in the garage I talked to some of the mechanics and then I sat Liam down into the car.

"That is so awesome!" he almost yelled and I laughed.

"Alright now put your hands on the steering wheel and look totally focused ahead. Yes exactly! Perfect! Now one big smile for Mama… wow! Perfect!" I took some pictures and sent them to his mother and Lizzie.

It was when one of the mechanics pointed something out at my front wing and I crouched down to him, when I lost sight of Liam for 3 seconds. 3 seconds too much. As I looked into the cockpit he was gone.

"Have you guys seen Liam?" I asked the guys working at my car and they all shook their heads. I frantically searched in every nook and cranny in the garage, unsuccessful. My driver's room. No Liam. Next I walked back into the Ferrari hospitality, asked everyone, but with no success. I felt the bile rise up my throat. Panic setting in. How did I lose him? What if something happened to him? My heart was beating in my throat.

"Charles, mate are you ok?" Daniel asked as he saw me running around the paddock.

"I lost my nephew. Lizzie‘s going to kill me! Juergen is going to kill me! Oh god his mum is going to kill me!" I began to hyperventilate.

"Ok, Charles. Breathe. Where have you seen him last?" Daniel asked and I looked at him.

"He was in my garage, in my car. I looked away for not even 3 seconds and he’s gone." I said it fast and Daniel only nodded.

"Does he know anyone here? Besides you? Someone he might’ve seen and run after?" Daniel asked and I cocked an eyebrow. "Believe me when I say I lost Isaac a bunch of times because he saw Max or Christian and ran after them to say hi."

"Arthur maybe? He could’ve been in the pits?" I answered and took my phone out, already having 3 missed calls from him, I called him back and he picked up immediately.

"I think I have something that belongs to you?" Arthur chuckled and I could hear Liams bright laugh in the background.

"Oh god! Don’t move! I’ll be there in 5 minutes!" I said relieved and hung up.

"Told you so!" Daniel grinned and I hugged him.

"Thank you sooo much!" I said and sprinted to the F3 paddock. As soon as I saw him my heart skipped a beat and relief flooded me.

"Liam!" he looked up at me and I hugged him "I was so scared that I’ve lost you Liam! What did we say? You’re not leaving my side! I wasn’t even looking away for 3 seconds and you ran away! You nearly gave me a heart attack!" he gave me his best puppy eyes "They’re not working! Not this time! Liam, there are so many people! You could’ve gotten seriously hurt! You’re too small, people won’t see you and then they run you over! Or someone took you… no, I don’t even want to think about it. You can’t run away! You understand me?" Liam looked sad, really sad. Was I too harsh? Was I screaming? I looked up at Arthur and some of the other drivers looked a little uncomfortable. Oh god. I was screaming at him?

"Wow, now that was a real dad speech. Look at the guys. They all think they’re grounded!" Arthur chuckled quietly and I rolled my eyes, Liam stood next to me, head hung low "Liam? Why don’t you say goodbye to the guys?" he nodded and walked over to the other F3 drivers.

"Did I scream at him? I-I was just so scared that something happened? Look at him! He’s devastated! Shit! I was too harsh, right?" I rambled but Arthur shook his head.

"You didn’t scream at him, Charles. You were a bit louder and your voice was really serious, he’s not used to that from you, usually you’re all cuddly and sweet to him. But yeah, he will get over it." he said and I nodded as Liam trotted back.

"Bye Arthi." he whispered and Arthur scooped him up.

"See you later, little one. And don’t run away again! Charles was really scared!" he said and Liam nodded, then he sat him down and I carefully stretched my hand out, but Liam ignored it and I sighed.

"Come on, we have to go. Lizzie and Pops will be here any minute." I said and Liam nodded.

We walked in silence back, as I couldn’t stand it any longer and stopped. I crouched down in front of him.

"Liam? I didn’t want to be so harsh, okay? I was just… god Liam I was so scared! I thought I lost you and…" I began but he looked behind me and I turned around, Lizzie and Juergen were waving at us and Liam bolted off. I groaned and got up. Juergen held Liam in his arms and it looked like he was crying. Great. Good job.

"What happened?" Lizzie asked me and I sighed.

"What did he say?" I asked and she shook her head.

"Nothing, but your face? What happened? You look like you’re about to cry? And he is crying?" she answered.

"I umm- I lost him. I swear to god I didn’t even look away for 3 seconds! One moment he sat in my car the next moment he was gone! I looked everywhere, the garage, hospitality, paddock, I asked everyone but he was gone! I was so scared, Lizzie! Then I met Danny Ric and he told me that his nephew always ran away when he saw someone he knew and then I saw that Arthur called me a bunch of times. Liam saw Arthur and followed him. And when I finally found him I was so mad that he ran away like that and I was a bit harsh I guess but Lizzie I swear I had the worst scenarios in my head and I… Lizzie, he hates me now! He doesn’t even look at me!" I let it all out and she just hugged me.

"It’s okay, Charles, he’s safe. It’s okay! I lost him before as well! It happens and I know that when you find him again that the emotions are boiling over a little! I’m sure you weren’t that bad… and he doesn’t hate you! Come on, let’s go check on him." she whispered and I nodded, as she pulled away she smiled at me, then she wiped a stray tear off of my cheek "You’re cute when you’re scared that a 3 year old hates you because you scolded him a little."

"Not funny!" I said and we walked towards Juergen and Liam.

"Bubba? Can you look at me?" Lizzie asked him but he just shook his head, burying his face deeper in Juergens neck.

"What happened?" he whispered when he looked at me and Lizzie just shook her head

"I’ll tell you later, come on, Charles you have to get ready for FP1!" she said and I nodded, walking back to the garage where I prepared myself for the practice. I watched as Liam’s mood got a little better, but he still didn’t look at me and when I walked past them and ruffled his head a little he turned away from me, the sting I felt in my heart catching me off guard. Lizzie just squeezed my shoulder and gave me a kiss on the cheek, not for the first time my insides began to stir and I felt my cheek tingle. I smiled at her before I walked over to my car, put on the balaclava and my helmet and got in.

"Good practice, Charles!" one of the guys said and I nodded as I walked over to Lizzie, Juergen and Liam. I took my helmet and balaclava off and Lizzie took it out of my hand, I kneeled in front of Liam.

"Hey Bubba, are you still mad at me?" I almost whispered, scared of his answer.

"Yup. You yelled at me!" he answered without looking at me.

"He didn’t yell at you! Arthi said he just scolded you for running away!" Juergen said as I looked down "And that was the right thing! Liam, we told you to stay by Charles' side! And still you ran off and Charles searched everywhere for you! The garage, the paddock, the hospitality! He asked everyone he met if they’ve seen you, but you were gone! Do you know how scared he was? And when he found you, he was just so happy to have you back that his emotions boiled a little over because you gave him a heart attack!" Liam looked up a little and I took his hand.

"I’m sorry that I was so harsh! But Pops is right! I thought I lost you or thought you were hurt and it scared me! So I just… I’m sorry, Liam!" I whispered and Liam withdrew his hand from mine, I was feeling sick. But then he hugged me.

"I’m sorry, Charlie. I didn’t want to scare you! I just thought that when you were this mad at me that you… that you didn’t like me anymore…" he sniffled and I hugged him tight.

"How many times do I have to tell you, that there is nothing you could do, that would make me stop loving you, silly boy! I was just scared!" I whispered back and kissed his temple "Please, never run away again!"

"Promise!" Liam said and I smiled.

The summer break and our vacation was exactly what we all needed. Charles was stressed because his season wasn’t going in his favour, Arthur had the same problem, I was stressed because the rumour mill kept going over the last weeks and I was more than often in the middle of it. We sat on the terrace of our beautiful AirBnB on Sardignia, Benji, Liam, Marcus, Arthur and Lisa in the pool. Pascale and Sissy preparing some food in the kitchen.

Mum and Dad to my right, Charles on my left side as we were playing cards. I checked the time every couple of moments.

"They will post the official statement in the next few minutes… why am I so nervous?" I whispered and Charles smiled at me.

"It’s going to be alright! It’s good news!" he said and I sighed

"Have you seen the comments under the post from the testing? There were a lot of negative ones! They don’t want me to be a full time driver as a girl." I mumbled and he just nudged my arm.

"Don’t be so negative! Who cares what some internet trolls say? You’re in F1 next season and you will shut their mouths real quick! So come one! Just be excited for this announcement!" he said and I tried to muster my strength, staring at my phone.

"Whatever happens happens, Lizzie, but we’re all with you!" Dad said and Mum gently stroked my arm.

"Yeah, I guess now it’s just time to wait for the announcement and then it is what it is." I said as my screen lit up "Here we go!"

"Lizzie?" Charles gently woke me up and I groaned, pulling the sheets over my head "Come on! Get up!"

"I don’t want to!" I grumbled.

"We knew that some idiots would react like this! But since when do we care what internet trolls say?" he asked and pulled the sheets away "Come on! We’re having a nice holiday! Don’t let these idiots spoil your mood! You ladies have an amazing day planned out!"

"As long as it doesn’t contain alcohol I’m not leaving!" I whispered.

"You’re a pro athlete! Don’t say that in public!" he chuckled and pulled me up. He used a little too much force and I crashed right into him. I looked at him, watched as his gaze lingered on my lips and I felt hot.

"Yeah, yeah whatever!" I cleared my throat and Charles blinked.

The backlash was extreme. The last week went by with a daily string of new misogynistic and sexist comments under every news article, post, video or whatever that was about me joining the grid next year. I said to myself I won’t let it get to my head. But it did. It stung. It hurt. I hated it. I expected some people to have their doubts and to be negative, but the downpour of hate? I wasn’t expecting it.

"I know it’s hard, and although I don’t know how hard it is and how it feels to be treated like this just because you’re a girl… I stand with you! We all do! Don’t let these idiots bring you down! You deserve this spot. End of the story! And now please, please get your cute ass out of bed, the ladies are waiting. They planned a spa day! Cocktails, massages, face masks… how does that sound?" Charles tried to cheer me up and it worked, a little, even though I could feel myself blushing.

"Great, let's do something super girly after I’ve been judged for being a girl!" I pouted and Charles laughed, gently pulling me out of bed.

"Fighting fire with fire! And now go!"

Charles POV:

"If the ladies are having a spa day, what are we doing then?" asked Lorenzo and I shrugged.

"I mean we could take the jet skis for a ride? Windsurfing?" I replied but Arthur just sighed.

"Dude, that’s what we’re doing every day! Let’s have a real men's day!" he said and I nodded.

"I’m a man, too! I wanna come with you!" Liam chirped in and looked at me with his big puppy eyes. I picked him up and sat him in my lap where he leaned his back against my chest.

"Of course you’re coming as well, big man!" I said and began to tickle him and he tried to squirm away giggling.

"Me too!" shouted Benji and jumped on his dads back.

"We’re all going! Because we’re all men!" Juergen said and we laughed.

"So, Pops, as you’re the big man here, what did you do with your mates, back in the day?" Marcus asked and I looked at Juergen who thought for a moment.

"Well when I was your age, I was still playing football, so our weekends were filled with matches, tournaments and lots and lots of B-E-E-R." he shrugged and then spelled the last word.

"Pops! I know you said beer!" Liam said, rolling his eyes and I laughed.

"You’re too smart, Bubba!" I chuckled and Liam smiled.

"Maybe not lots and lots of beer with the kiddos around." Lorenzo said and Juergen nodded.

"We also went fishing? When we were in Spain a mate of ours knew someone with a boat and we drove out, trying to catch a fish or two and then in the evening we ate 'em." he said and scratched his chin.

"We have a boat? We only need fishing stuff?" Arthur said and Marcus and Lorenzo laughed.

"Fishing stuff? You mean fishing gear?" Lorenzo laughed and Arthur just rolled his eyes.

"Whatever it’s called we need it!" he shrugged and Marcus held up his phone.

"There’s a store just a couple of streets from here." he said and I got up, throwing Liam over my shoulder and made him giggle even more.

"Let’s get fishing stuff." I said and looked at Arthur.

"Ha-ha. Very funny." he grumbled but Juergen just ruffled his hair and pushed him towards the door.

"Come on, little Arthi, don’t be sour." he said and Arthur laughed.

"What can I get you gentleman?" the salesman asked us and Liam on my shoulders chirped "FISHING STUFF!" which made me laugh and Arthur groaned, although he was smiling.

"Fishing gear, I don’t know fishing rods, bait, fishing nets, fishing leash? I don’t know… basically everything." Lorenzo explained and the man looked at us a little confused.

"We’re having a men’s only day!" Benji said.

"And we’re going fishing! With lots of beer!" Liam said and I pinched his calf "Ouch! Why did you do that!" he tugged a little at my hair and leaned forwards so he could look at me.

"You’re a little too young to tell the people you’re having a beer, Bubba!" I chuckled and he just rolled his eyes "If you keep doing that, they will get stuck."

"They won’t!" he said and laughed.

While we had our little talk the salesman already brought some fishing gear and put it on the counter, explaining to Lorenzo, Juergen and Marcus how it all worked while Arthur was giving Benji a piggyback ride.

Half an hour later we loaded everything into the boat, filled the fridges with some cold beverages and food and started our trip. The salesman gave us some coordinates for a quiet bay, with good chances to catch something but nice for a little swim.

"He was right. It’s nice and we’re the only ones!" Marcus said and I agreed.

"Okay, then I’d say let’s fish?" I said and Juergen laughed.

"Sure, let’s fish!" he chuckled.

10 Minutes later all 4 fishing rods were in the water including 2 fishing lines for the boys.

"Alright, done. And now?" Arthur said and looked at us.

"Now we wait!" he popped open a beer and leaned back in his seat.

Lorenzo and Marcus grabbed a beer as well and sat back down. I watched as the boys played with their fishing lines.

Arthur stared intently at the fishing rods.

"How long does it take? I mean to catch a fish?" he asked after a while and I just shrugged my shoulders.

"I don’t know? Some time?" I answered and watched Liam and Benji looking excited in the water.

"What’s going on, boys?" I asked and sat down next to them.

"Look Charlie! There are fish everywhere! They will bite into our bait any moment!" Benji said and I followed his gaze.

"You’re right! That’s awesome!" I said and we watched the fish swim around the fishing lines and the bait, but not biting.

"It’s boring…" Liam whispered after a long while of us staring at the fish and Benji nodded.

"Yeah! I thought they would bite faster!" he mumbled and I laughed.

"I guess you have to be really patient when fishing!" I got up and walked over to Arthur, still staring at the fishing rods "So? Any luck yet?"

"We’re now here for almost an hour and nothing happened!" he groaned and I patted his shoulder and sat down next to Marcus.

"We sent the ladies a picture of us with the whole fishing gear, saying they should prepare some salads because we will bring fish for the barbecue tonight!" he laughed and Lorenzo nodded.

"If we have luck we catch one and have to share that one then!" Lorenzo chuckled and Juergen downed his beer.

"Now I know why we had loads of beer while fishing… it’s boring!" he said and I laughed.

"Yeah well… it’s something different I guess…" I shrugged my shoulders as the boys started to scream excitedly.

"We’ve got one! Help us! He’s strong!" Benji yelled and we jumped up looking at him and Liam holding onto the fishing line. Marcus grabbed the fishing line and pulled it gently in.

"Yeah, that one is strong!" he exclaimed and struggled a little with holding the line.

"Here’s one as well!" Arthur exclaimed and Juergen walked up to him.

"Oh! Look, both of these fishing rods!" Juergen said and Lorenzo helped out.

"Damn, they’re strong!" Arthur said as they tried to pull in the line.

"Yeah! What are these? Sharks?" Lorenzo said and I chuckled.

"Should I grab the net?" I asked and they all nodded.

"Watch out! It will escape!" Lorenzo shouted as the line from the rod Arthur and Juergen were working on abruptly got pulled away.

It was a constant shouting and pulling and cursing the next few minutes, with Marcus and the boys trying their best to get their line in, Arthur and Juergen still struggling and Lorenzo trying his best to not let go of his fishing rod. I stood in between them, holding up the nets, waiting to catch the fish.

"Why isn’t it moving anymore? There is just resistance, but no pull!" Juergen said and Lorenzo nodded.

"Yeah same." he answered and Marcus agreed.

"Are these smart fish and they have a plan to get out of this?" Arthur asked and I laughed.

"Absolutely!" I said and he glared at me.

"Guys… umm… yeah, so much for catching fish!" Lorenzo pulled his line back in, entangled with a lot of other fishing lines. One leading to Juergen and Arthur and one to Marcus and the two little boys.

"You’ve got to be kidding me!" I laughed and after a short moment of disappointment we all laughed together.

"There’s a fish market in the harbour! I’d say we buy some fish there and we say that we were the ones catching them!" Juergen suggested, scratching his chin.

"Sounds good to me!" I said and the rest of the guys agreed.

"I guess we’re no fishermen then!" Lorenzo said and we laughed.

"Certainly not!" Marcus said.

"Let’s get in the water, have some fun before we return, I’d say!" and Juergen nodded.

"Yeah, but we should get the other fishing lines in, not that we catch ourselves!" he said.

"Good idea!" Arthur said and pulled the one line in "Ok, here we have the same problem. These two are also entangled."

Marcus walked up to him and started to pull in the line.

"Nope, that one is easy going…" he said and Arthur looked excited in the water.

"Guys! It’s a fish! A real fish! We caught a fish!" he shouted and we waited for him to pull it in "It’s huge! I can feel it!"

As the so-called huge fish came into view we laughed.

"That’s like a sardine!" Lorenzo said.

"I need 10 of them!" I said.

We released the fish back into the ocean and had some fun snorkeling and swimming.

"And you caught all that fish? That’s impressive!" Marina said as she and Maman looked into the cooling box.

"Yeah! First time and you’re already able to gut the fish and debone it! You guys are real fishermen!" Maman laughed and we looked at us, waiting for someone to come up with an explanation.

"Of course we didn’t do that! We asked a guy at the harbour to help us! And when he saw that we were complete tools, he did it for us!" Juergen said and we nodded agreeing.

"What a nice man!" Lisa said.

"Super nice of him!" Lizzie smiled although I knew that smile, something was off "What was his name?"

"Anthoine!"

"Henry!”

"Pierre!"

"Paul!"

We looked at each other.

"You see how much fish that is? We had help from a whole bunch of guys!" Lorenzo said and Lizzie chuckled, then she scrolled through her phone and laid it on the counter in front of us, showing pictures of us buying the fish in the harbour.

"Your fans are everywhere, Charlie bear!" Lizzie chuckled.

"Oh boys… you are some fishermen!"

"Let’s cook this perfectly bought fish!"

The moment I entered the paddock on Saturday morning in Zandvoort people were going crazy. Fans, reporters, photographers were screaming my name, asking for statements but I just wanted to get inside with Liam. He looked scared by the mass of people and I cursed myself for not coming in earlier together with Charles. Then we would’ve had securities but just us alone? No securities were stepping in of course.

"Lizzie? Hey! Lizzie!" I heard someone scream my name from the right and looked. I spotted Max waving at me and he talked to 2 security guys who helped Liam and me out of the sea of people.

"Max! Hi! Thank you so much!" I said and hugged him.

"That looked scary!" he said and looked down at Liam "And you must be Liam! Charles told me a lot about you!"

"Hi…" Liam said a little shyly and Max chuckled.

"Congrats, Lizzie! Next season you’re one of us! Finally!" he said as we kept on walking.

"Yup, it still feels unreal… I mean I know it’s happening, but all of the negativity in the last weeks? Doesn’t make it easier…" I said and he nodded.

"Yeah, I’ve seen some of the stuff they were saying… unfortunately a lot of RedBull fans were amongst those who were writing the worst things… I’m really sorry!" Max said sincerely and I sighed.

"Thanks Max, but don’t worry! I’ll get through it! You don’t have to be sorry! It’s not you who’s writing that stuff!" I said and he shrugged his shoulders.

"It still sucks! I raced against you long enough to know that you’re tough as hell and will be, in the right car, a big threat to all of us!" he looked at me and grinned.

"They will see, I’ll show them that I deserve my seat!" I said, determined.

"I expected nothing less from you!" he chuckled "I gotta go now, but we’ll catch up later?"

"Sure! You wanna take a picture with Max before he leaves? He’s going to be the world champion this season… maybe…" I said and Max laughed as Liam walked up to him.

The rest of the weekend was filled with lots and lots of people trying to get a grasp on me but I managed to dodge them mostly. Only after the race I bumped into Ralf Schumacher and the Sky Germany crew and as they all congratulated me, I agreed to a little interview.

"So, Lizzie, it’s great to have you here in Zandvoort! A track where you will be driving next season as well. How do you watch the races now that you know you will race alongside the others next season?" Peter Hardenacke asked.

"Thanks for having me! Well of course now I watch the races more intently! Look how the drivers tackle the tracks at specific corners. I just try to grasp and absorb as much as possible. And maybe it will help. We’ll see, I guess." I answered.

"You’re joining Audi, but are still a common guest in the Ferrari garage, aren’t the guys at Ferrari a bit worried?" Ralf joked and I laughed.

"Well yeah, kinda. I’m only allowed far away from the cars, to not spy on them! No, I'm just kidding. It wouldn’t help a lot to spy on the current car, would it now?" I said laughing.

"That was a dig against the current car, wasn’t it!" Peter laughed.

"No! I mean that’s certainly not the car I’m competing with next season. So it would be useless to spy a bit!" I said and winked at him.

"Ahhh, yeah sure! How is everything else going? We all know that after last June there were some serious concerns about your health. Now we know you’ll be on the grid next year, how do you prepare?" Ralf asked and I thought for a moment.

"What happened last year, the accident, it was tough. And the recovery was even tougher because it’s not just your body that needs to be back in shape, also your mindset. So yeah I trained a lot over the last year. Physically but also mentally. And I just continue like this. Strengthen my body, my mind. Doing lots and lots of simulator work. Developing the car. We only have some more weeks until we have to present the FIA our final car. And yeah, overall it’s busy but I’m more than happy about it." I said.

"We wish you all the best and are really excited to have you on the grid next year!" Peter said.

"Absolutely! You’re a role model for every girl out there but also for every person who had a setback, you showed strength and resilience and that if you work hard enough everything is possible! I’m really looking forward to see you on track!" Ralf said.

"Thank you guys! Really! I’m looking forward to some more chats next season!" I smiled at them and handed my microphone over, with a final wave I left.

"Lizzie! Wait up!" I turned around, George Russell walking up to me.

"Hey George!" I said and hugged him "Long time no see!"

"It’s good to see you, Lizzie! Good to see that you finally got a seat!" he said and I smiled.

"Thanks George! I really appreciate it! And I guess I can congratulate you, too? I mean it’s not official yet, but you know, of course I’ve been told who they want as my teammate …" I chuckled a little and George blushed.

"Yeah. I think they will announce it tomorrow. Isn’t it crazy? We all race next year against each other? The only one missing is Alex." he said, sounding a little sad in the end.

"Yeah, Red Bull did him dirty… just like Pierre before… but that’s Red Bull, right? They want the best line up they can get, no matter what." I sighed and he nodded, looking behind me, as someone covered my eyes from behind.

"Who am I?" a voice asked, but I knew that the voice didn’t belong to the hands.

"You? Lando… the hands? Charlie bear!" I said and heard a loud groan paired with a shrill laughter.

"Charlie bear?! CHARLIE BEAR?" Lando cackled and I turned around, looking at a bend down Lando and a slightly red Charles.

"Why would you say that? Why, ma belle?" he grumbled and George laughed.

"Oh how cute! We have Charlie bear and ma belle next year on track! Adorable!" he said and Lando gained a bit of his composure back.

"This will be fun! Really! Lizzie, congrats for joining the circus next season! You deserve that seat more than anyone else!" Lando said and looked at me.

"Thanks Lando!" I smiled at him.

"Are you guys also going with Max? He rented a club in Amsterdam, to celebrate the first Dutch GP since? I don’t know since when! I guess now we’re also celebrating his win!" Lando said and Charles nodded.

"We’re in!" he said and smiled at me.

"But not for too long, you promised Liam something!" I reminded him and he smiled.

"I know, I know!" he said.

"Then we’ll see you guys later on!" George said and we waved them off.

We left the track, driving straight to our hotel in Amsterdam.

"So, I’ve seen you were talking with Sky Germany… the people have a lot to say about it." Charles said as I picked out an outfit.

"Yeah? I don’t care… I don’t care anymore. I’ve heard it over this weekend so often! From current drivers, former drivers, experts, journalists, some fans. They say I deserve my seat. I will focus from now on on the positive feedback and fuck the haters and their negativity!" I looked at him and he smiled.

"Well, this time it’s mostly positive! And you’re right! Haters gonna hate…" he began.

"… and potatoes gonna potate!" I finished his sentence and we laughed.

"I’m proud of you, ma belle! The last year was hard and I know that me and my complete obliviousness regarding Camille wasn’t really helpful, but despite everything that was thrown your way, look at where you are now! You’re a Formula 1 driver for Audi, you will start your first season next year, so many people out there are praising you, you look smoking hot and… and you have a family and friends that love you forever!" Charles said and I smiled at him.

"Thanks, Charlie! I know without you I wouldn’t be here tonight… without any of you… but you’re right. We’ve come so far together! Next year will be freaking amazing!" I said and he nodded.

"Ready to party?" Charles asked.

"I was born ready!"

————————————————————————

Little Note:

That's it, chapter 12 is out - it’s long, I know, and a L O T is happening! Sorry! I just tried to squeeze in as much as possible because I just want to get started with the next chapter. Anyways. Updates will take some time from now on! Sorry!

Please leave a comment/ like/ reblog/ message and tell me how you liked it! I'm dying to hear your thoughts!

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Last but not least, English is not my first language and although I tried my best: please excuse any mistakes I made!

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