#That should be all my additional hours this week though

[oculusxcaro]

WHAT FORM WOULD YOUR DAEMON TAKE?

Amphibian

Those who have amphibian daemons are adaptive people who exude vitality. They are relatable and friendly people who refuse to be stamped out, often known for being jacks of all trades with a uniquely determined view on life. They know how to remake themselves again and again.

Specifically, an Axolotl

You are a peaceful and pleasant individual who goes with the flow. More so than others with amphibian daemons, those with axolotls are supportive and masters of self-care. They are highly in tune with the needs of themselves and others, and typically don't have a bad word to say about anyone. When deciding on your daemon's appearance, consider the colour of your axolotl. A darker-coloured axolotl indicates a more quiet and introverted individual, while a pink-coloured axolotl indicates someone more outgoing and sociable.

Tagged byStolen from: @seafit (♡) Tagging: @arkhamcalamity, @arkhampsych, @arkhmlcst, @brokentoys, @bxrningblack, @goldenmedic, @halfghcst, @made-of-archimedes, @sanguine-salvation, @sheldoney, @the-rorschach-mask, @twcfaces, @vortship and anybody else who'd like to do this?

[always-just-red]

I NEED some angst+comfort with Zayne PLEASE. It could be anything, the reader being run over in front of him, him being stressed about work and being mean to the reader... Literally anything

This was my first request, so thank you so much! I started this last night with a cup of tea and an "I'm sure I can manage some angst for Zayne, why not?" sort of attitude, and it culminated with me evil laughing to myself at 3am. Enjoy I guess? 😭

Reserved

Zayne x Reader ❄

Summary: You've been looking forward to this dinner with Zayne for a week, but it seems he has other priorities.

Genre: angst, SO MUCH angst (but sshhhh... we save it with some comfort... 👀)

Warnings/Additional tags: established relationship, fluff, uses of y/n, reader is feeling neglected, Zayne gets a tiny bit mean

| Word count: 1.2k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Zayne… c’mon. Let’s go.”

You feel like a child, whining for what feels like the hundredth time in the last half hour, but you’ve little else left to do. You’re perched on Zayne’s desk, having long ago lost respect for the sanctity of his workspace, and you pout as you stare down at the phone in your palm. The screen is lit up by a reminder you’d set a week ago: Reservation. The Cerulean. 8 o’clock.

It’s 8:25, and you’ve snoozed it five times already— each time more pointedly than the last.

“Just a minute,” Zayne mumbles.

“You said that an hour ago!”

The man hums in acknowledgment, but he doesn’t look up from his computer. His face is bathed in the ghoulish light of the screen, his glasses shining as he dips his head— just a fraction— to glance at the paperwork spread before him. You give him his minute: let second after second tick by, though you mark each one with an idle tap on the desk’s cold surface.

A murmur: “Stop that, please.” His patience is thinning too.

You’re feeling petty, because you’ve been listening to the patter of his keyboard forever and it’s driving you insane. You purse your lips and tap louder. One second. Tap. Two seconds. Tap. Three. Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Stop it.” Zayne’s hand catches yours, his grip soft, but his face stern.

And he still won’t look at you.

He releases your hand, and his dutiful fingers are back to their post, pattering away. With a huff, you come away from his desk, stalking past him to the window, where you fold your arms and study the barren street below. The view is obscured by the dark and the drops of rain that carve hazy trails down the glass. You can just about make out a couple, emerging from the hospital’s entrance. No uniforms. A patient and their other half, and they’re leaning on each-other— no— pushing each-other, competing for the cover of an umbrella that’s much too small. They’re laughing, you think.

Your chest aches.

“Zayne,” you press.

His chair rolls back, wheels harsh on the floor, and he’s standing, logging out of his computer with a final, few clacks. “I’m done,” he snaps, but his tone says otherwise. He tugs his coat from the back of his chair. “We can go.”

…

You sit on the edge of the wet pavement, rain seeping from your hair and soaking the fabric of your clothes. You should be cold, but you’re not. You’re nothing. Your eyes are cast downwards and all you see is grey, though it’s illuminated by an orange glow.

Behind you, light bleeds through the windows of a busy restaurant. Zayne is still in there, playing diplomat. Playing doctor: always trying to fix things.

Your phone buzzes, and you slip it from its home in your coat pocket. There’s a message: having fun? Then another: ur welcome, miss bodyguard.

Rafayel. He knows a guy who knows the guy who owns this place, so you’d called in a favour. You and Zayne had been drowning in work for a week: him, overwhelmed by new patients at the hospital, and you, out hunting the wanderers that had put them there. Linkon is getting worse. Everything is getting worse, and you just wanted one, single night for yourself.

Well, not just yourself.

The monotonous drum of the rain breaks to the creak of an opening door, but you don’t react. “Y/N?” Zayne sounds far away. “Where did you— Y/N!?”

Footsteps echo on the pavement behind you, splitting puddles, and the orange light is gone. You’re trapped by a shadow that’s talking, speaking your name, but you pretend you can’t hear it. Let him say it a hundred times. A thousand; you can wait.

“Just a minute,” you lilt, your voice dripping spite.

You’re going to sit here for an hour.

“Y/N…” The doctor is oh so patient. “Please get up. You’ll catch a cold if you—”

“Good!” you spit, rounding on him. “Then why don’t I check myself into the hospital? Maybe then you’ll actually think about me once in a while!”

Zayne is towering over you: a small, wet, pathetic little thing, but you still make him draw back. His virescent eyes are wide, his lips parted ever so slightly. He almost always knows what to say, but this is an exception.

After a long moment, he moves around you. Slowly, he lowers himself to sit at your side.

“Do you have any idea,” you start, staring out across the slick road, “how selfish you make me feel? How much I hate myself when I… when I ask you to…”

The confession catches in your throat. It hurts, but you force it out anyway:

“What you do is so important, Zayne. You’re saving lives. You’re giving people back to their families, their loved ones, and you’re amazing for that. I think you’re amazing for that. But I miss you. It feels like I have to share you with the rest of the world, and I know I have no right to ask it, but sometimes? Sometimes I just… want you to be mine.”

You’re looking down, now. Hugging your knees— burying your face, so he won’t see you cry. There’s rain and salt in your mouth, and you wish he would say something. Anything. 

You have to wait a few seconds, but then you feel it: something heavy being draped over your shoulders. His coat. Then his arm is around you, drawing you close, closer, until you’re nestled against his chest.

“You have every right to ask,” he soothes, his tone so warm when it’s compensating for the rest of him. “I am yours, Y/N. I will always be yours.”

“But your work—”

“Can wait,” he finishes for you. “I know I forget that sometimes. And I’m sorry. But you?”

He lifts your chin, gazing down at you with something you can only describe as adoration.

“There is nothing in this world more important to me than you.”

Your heart flutters at the words and the feathery touch of his thumb on your cheek, wiping away a tear. It’s futile in a downpour, but it still makes you smile. Rain is spattering on your forehead, some dripping from his now-soaked hair, and you laugh as he tries to dry your face with his sleeve.

“You’re important to me, too,” you manage between chuckles, “and I’m sorry, too.” Your cheeks are flushed, even in the cold. “Let’s go home, yeah?”

“No.” A statement: not up for debate. Zayne untangles your limbs from his as he helps you stand. “We have a reservation.”

“We had a reservation. They gave away our table, Zayne.”

“Did they?”

There’s a hint of smugness. “Wait… what did you—”

He nods at the restaurant, and you follow his glistening gaze to where a waiter is holding the door— a menu clutched above his head, shielding him from the rain. He’s looking back at you. Waiting.

“Rafayel isn’t the only one with friends in high places,” Zayne smiles, leaning down to speak into your ear, and it makes you shiver. “The head chef is a friend of mine. I saved his brother’s life, you know.”

[jaylver]

PINKY RING — S.JY

synopsis: setting up a deal with a frat boy you've just met at a party turned out to be a stupidly cute idea. who knew his drake reference and the deal involving his pinky ring would soon score him a date with you.

pairings: frat boy!jake x afab!reader

genre: strangers to lovers, frat boy + football player jake, college au, romance, fluff

warning(s): profanities, party, alcohol

wc: 2.9k

a/n: a very late contribution to jakeday! this was much longer than planned so i hope you all enjoy it! apologies in advance if the writing sucks since i've been tired all week T-T please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx

masterlist | © jaylver all rights reserved.

Wandering into a frat party alone was quite literally the least sane thing you've done in a while.

Your best friend, Yunjin, had called you up to meet her at a frat party at the most random hour of the night. The temptation got to you for the worst as you caved in and placed aside your studies in order to get some free booze, even if they're low budget ones.

That only explained why you were there then. Looking between your phone and the sight before you as you walked, trying to get a hold of your friend. She was probably somewhere wasted and you wouldn't be surprised if it was true. 

Once you sent her a text announcing your arrival and hoping for a text back, you slipped your phone away and wandered into the kitchen area, further from the crowded area filled with people dancing quite scandalously.

Whatever dodgy concoction they had prepared there, you took some and sniffed it before taking a sip, shrugging in half approval. You'd take what you have. Soon, you settled yourself in by leaning against the counter, pulling out your phone as it had started buzzing.

You were distracted by the chiming of your phone, realising Yunjin texted back and you immediately replied back. She was, in fact, somewhere in the house, except she was with a guy. Wait, a frat boy, Jay Park? Oh, you've heard of him. 

You didn't want to say much and just texted her back to call you when it's time to leave, or if she's even leaving at all. Meanwhile, you were unaware of the additional presence who had wandered into the kitchen as you typed out your last text.

“Oh—hey,” 

You glanced up from your phone the moment you pressed 'send', staring back at a guy that you swore you've seen somewhere before, he was too familiar. He wasn't just a guy though, he was a hot one. Backwards cap on, dressed in a casual black hoodie and ripped jeans, dyed blond hair peeking out from his cap. 

That was a sight to see. 

“Hey,” you could tell he wasn't expecting your presence in the kitchen just the same as you were.

The corner of his lips twitched, head tilted to one side. “New around here? I think this is the first time I've seen you at our party,”

Our? Was he a part of the frat?

“I don't usually wander into frat parties,” you shrugged, and he nodded, smiling. 

“I'm Jake, by the way. Jake Sim. I'm a part of the frat, we usually have these types of parties on the weekend,” he extended his hand out for a handshake, to which you accepted, staring a little too longingly at his pretty hands and fingers. Don’t be a creep. 

“Am I missing out? I'm Y/N L/N,”

“Well, Y/N, maybe you are,” an apparent accent flowed from his voice, and the way he said your name shouldn't have made you scream inside. “You should come by more often, I'd love to see more of you here,”

“We'll see. I wasn't even meant to be here, but my friend called and I thought ‘why not’ so here I am,”

“It's fated, then. We're meant to meet,” he clapped, lips stretched into a cheery smile that had you swooning.

“I suppose it is,” you let him join your side in leaning against the counter, feeling the fabric of his hoodie brushing against your bare skin. “You know, you look very familiar to me, I think I've seen you before,”

“Yeah?” His tongue swept across his bottom lip, eyebrow quirking with interest.

“Football team. It's you, isn't it? The striker,”

“How did you know?” He seemed genuinely surprised, and you were in disbelief as well. He was much different compared to what you remembered.

“My friend's on the team too, Kim Sunoo,”

“Him!"

“Yes, him! I went to one of the matches and you scored in it, it was a great match," you could still recall the faint memory of Jake scoring, his name blasting from the speakers, back when his hair was coloured black.

“Wow,” Jake stared in amazement, his smile never wavered, only widening. “We're much connected than I thought,”

“We are,” you couldn't help smiling as well, finding his energy contagious and severely intoxicating. You had to turn around and take a sip of your drink as a way to not become flustered around him, but only to notice the rings resting on his fingers.

“Nice rings,” you complimented, and it seemed to be his turn to become flustered. Immediately bringing his hands up for you to look closer and showcasing his rings.

“Thanks,” he said, sounding pleased.

“You have a pinky ring too?” You pointed at his pinky, noticing the silver ring gleaming under the light.

“Pinky ring till I get a wedding ring,”

It didn't hit you until a beat later. He was quoting Drake. 

“Drake? Seriously?” A teasing grin travelled to your lips, nudging him slightly ever so naturally. He didn't complain, just reciprocated your smile, seemingly glad that you caught onto his reference.

“Hey, I'm a big fan. Sue me,”

“No judgement, I like Drake too,” you spoke your half truth, shrugging lightly.

Jake turned to look at you, a light sparkling in his eyes, telling you he had something in mind. “Hey, why don't I give you my pinky ring, and the next time we meet, you give it back to me?”

“What?”

“Let fate decide our next meeting. If we bump into each other again, you hand me back my ring, and I'll get your number. Deal?”

“Sounds good,” why were you doing this?

Even as your consciousness was telling you what stupid idea this was, you couldn’t help but feel confident. There was definitely a next time. You were sure of it. Even after Jake slipped his ring onto your pinky, feeling his skin graze against yours, you were confident that fate would bring you to him, or even him to you.

You bid him a small goodbye, watching his bright energy disappear through the door and be left with yourself, wanting him to come back. Did Yunjin and you somehow suddenly share the same taste in men? Frat boys?

Soon, you abandoned your drink and walked out of the kitchen into the party scene. To your relief, you spotted Yunjin waving at you, a tall boy with silver hair standing right beside her. That was probably Jay.

“Oh my God, I thought I lost you,” she engulfed you into one of her warm hugs while you didn't miss the lovesick smile she always had whenever she was around a crush.

“I would say the same for you,” you nudged her slightly, eyeing her romeo of the night.

“Oh—Jay, this is my best friend, Y/N. Y/N, this is Jay,” Yunjin introduced, and Jay gave you a friendly hug as a greeting. Off the bat, you could tell he was a decent guy despite being in a frat.

“You're not joining your friends for beer pong?” Yunjin pointed out to Jay and you took notice of said beer pong going on across the room. 

There he was. Jake. Standing out amongst the bunch of guys that were most likely his friends, catching your attention in an instant. His baseball cap was no longer worn backwards, sleeves rolled up and showcasing the protruding veins decorating the expanse of his arm. He was holding onto a ping pong ball, aiming at one of the red shot cups and eventually shot it in successfully, letting out a loud laugh while throwing his arms up into a flexing pose and hitting his chest.

What a frat boy. But you think he's a cute frat boy. He was an exception.

“Should we leave soon?” Yunjin had to poke your shoulder to gain your attention back to her. At that realisation, you visibly flushed a tinge of pink, coughing and nodding rather stiffly. You could tell your best friend was suspicious of you, but didn’t press on and told you Jay was dropping you two off.

What you didn’t catch onto as you left the room was Jake’s lingering gaze on you. 

He was going to get his ring back. He was confident about it.

“You’re telling me you’re missing Jay’s friend?”

“I am doing exactly that,”

He wasn’t just Jay’s friend, he was also his frat brother. Yet, Jay was oblivious you two knew each other, or at least that’s what you think in your perspective. 

Telling Yunjin about your happenings from that party was both a good and bad decision. The good part was that she was happy for you. The bad part was realising how predictable you were. In her words, she knew you would fall for Jake especially since you had a weak spot for men with cute smiles. Dammit.

It has been a week since that night at the frat house. To be honest, you could be crazy and just go back to find Jake, but were you going to chase a man like that? No, wake up! But, you were also shamelessly missing him and mulling over the fact that the ring was still on your pinky. 

“This is so stupid, why is he waiting on fate to act?”

“I think it’s cute,”

“You’re hopeless,” Yunjin rolled her eyes, but you just laughed, because you, too, knew it was dumb. A stupid game that tortured you but you enjoyed the anticipation as well. “Anyway, Jay’s going to a football match later in the evening, apparently the team is playing. Before you say no, consider this, he’s paying for dinner after,”

“I like him,” you gave her your seal of approval, and from the looks of her giddy smile, she was satisfied. 

Yunjin was more than happy when she led you through the stands, locating where Jay was sitting. You threw a knowing glance at her, to which she noticed and only rolled her eyes. He greeted you with a friendly smile, saving an even brighter smile for your best friend. It was sickening, but in an affectionate way. 

Realising how you were third wheeling, you took the queue and left, wandering down the stands to get a closer look at the field. You figured that'd be a better idea now that you realised the team was warming up there.

“Y/N!” you were barely halfway down the stairs when you heard your name being called, a familiar face running towards you. 

“Jake!” You jogged a little, reaching the barrier that separated the stands and the field, essentially separating you and Jake as well.

“You're here! At a football game,” he breathed out in a daze, as if he couldn't believe you were standing in front of him.

“Jay brought me and Yunjin here,” you slyly pointed at the duo that sat further up the stands, meeting Jake's playful smirk. You two had the same thought in mind. “Oh right—pinky ring,”

You raised up your right hand, his ring still wrapped around your pinky. At that, Jake's eyes only lit up, flickering between your face and the ring, his smile growing wider.

“You wear it everywhere?”

A rush of heat spread across your cheeks, you found yourself shying away from his gaze. “I didn't know where I'd find you,”

“Guess you finally found me, and I found you too,”

“I'm glad,” you fidgeted the ring mindlessly, looking between it and Jake before you realised the deal. "Should I hand it back to you first?”

“No—wait—maybe after the game?” His indecisiveness was killing him, and having you standing in front of him, it made him extra jittery, he was grateful the barriers were there. “I have a feeling you wearing it will somehow pass on good luck to me,”

Your eyebrows furrowed, a smile pulling at your lips. “Don't know how that works, but I'll do whatever you say,”

“It's true! It's called intuition. I'll win the game and score a goal,” he said ever so confidently, a grin that was challenging your doubts. 

“I believe you,” you said in between giggles, unaware of Jake's smile growing wider as he watched you laugh. “Go and win this one like you always do,”

“I will! Meet me after the game! Get your number and the ring ready,” he casted a wink at you, waving a small momentary goodbye before joining his team back in warming up. 

You eventually joined the two lovebirds and waited for the game to start, a certain feeling of giddiness bubbling in your abdomen. When it was finally time, you watched intently as the referee blew the whistle and the home team began the game. The number five on his back was easy to detect, your eyes followed it the whole time as he ran past defenders and scored a goal.

You and your friends jumped out of your seats in excitement. Yelling and cheering the moment you heard his name being blasted from the speakers. He did prove you right, he scored a goal. The next thing you knew before you could even process it was him pointing up at you. It was clearly directly at you, no mistake at all. As cliche it could get, he sent you a flying kiss, and you only matched his energy, catching it and laughing like some school girl.

He was soon tackled by his teammates and whisked away to resume the game. You were left in the stands smiling like a fool, unable to hide your happiness and blushing cheeks even though people around you had witnessed it whole, including your own friends. But who cares, right?

The game ended with the home team winning and obviously, everyone was in great spirits after. You told Yunjin that you’re finding Jake first, and as she left with Jay, you swore you heard him asking ‘since when did they know each other?’ 

Heading down the stands, you spotted Jake immediately. The team was still lingering around the field, but the second Jake’s eyes landed on you, he excused himself and ran towards you. The widest smile was present on his face, he was shining brightly under the dark skies. 

“Hey!” he pulled you in a hug, reaching over the barrier for you. He was sweaty, but you didn’t mind it. It was his presence and tight hold that you focused on.

“Congrats on the win! You did great,” you said as you pulled away, reciprocating his smile. 

“Thank you. It’s nothing,”

“Okay, you scoring a goal is not ‘nothing’,”  

“But I was right, wasn’t I?”

You rolled your eyes at him, hating that he wasn’t entirely wrong. “Whatever,” you said dismissively, earning a light laugh from him. You took the chance to slip the ring off your pinky, taking his hand in yours, instantly surprising him since it was a totally unexpected move. “Your pinky ring, as promised,”

“Oh, almost forgot,” he let you slip the ring back to the original spot, feeling your touch on his skin and reeling from your close proximity. 

“As for my number … I’ll give it to you once you’re done, I don’t have anything to write on,” you waved your phone in hand, casting him an apologetic smile.

“It’s totally fine. Will you be willing to wait?”

“I’m alright with it. I thought you’re joining us for dinner?”

“Right, Jay told me,” he snapped his fingers, recalling his friend’s text message. How could he have forgotten? He almost asked you out for dinner later as a date. 

“He’s paying,”

“Sweet,” he basically hollered, punching the air stiffly and you laughed at his demeanour. He’s so weird, but in a cute way.

Jake was biting on his lips once a short silence settled between you two. You could tell he was pondering and thinking about his next words. That sweet smile returned back to his lips. “Can I take you out for dinner soon?”

How could you say no?

“I’m down. Definitely yes,”

Jake almost looked relieved, but there was also a sparkle that you saw in his eyes that shined brightly once you’ve given him your answer. You could feel your own heart swelling at the sight of him. His gaze held everything he needed to say. He stared at you with a kind of longing and pining that you couldn’t pinpoint. 

“Great, fantastic,” Jake whispered under his breath, seemingly in disbelief and his dazed look only made you giggle. “I’ll catch up with you after I shower, give me some time and wait for me!”

“I will! The three of us will wait for you so go wash up,”

“Alright, alright,” he threw his hands up in surrender, hesitant to walk away as he wished to talk to you more, but he stank and was covered with sweat, so he didn’t have much choice. 

“Wait for me!” he said, slowly inching away with the silliest grin, eyes crinkling at the edges. 

You responded by gesturing your thumbs up, watching as he turned his back on you, but not even a second later he turned his head back, a small smile still remained. He then started jogging towards the benches, and you definitely didn’t miss his excited jump. 

How were you supposed to survive that dinner date with an endearing, sweet and cute guy like him? 

The truth was, you weren’t.

( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )

☆ permanent taglist (open):

@silentkarnival @strvlveera @freshsaladbowl @bejewelledgirl @fakeuwus @yenqa @hsgwrld @ilovegyuvin @enhacatalog @aishigrey @shinrjj @kgneptun

[the-kingshound]

Small Kal update

I am very fond of lists and bullet points so I'm going to make this post, and hopefully more if I manage to stay consistent, to update everyone following my WIPs about their progress.

The King's Hound

You might know that the update, which consists of the second part of chapter 2, is 95% done in terms of writing. Unfortunately, it has been for quite a while, and though I had hoped to release it by September, at the latest October, it's clear that I need a bit more time.

The main reason, just so you all are aware and know what to expect from me and my games, is that I started a three year university course, Dietetics, and the lessons alone go from 9 am to either 4 pm or 6 pm (plus, I have almost four hours a day total of commute). It's not difficult per se, but it is physically draining and takes a lot of time and energy out of me.

Personal update aside, last weekend I managed to:

Edit Arthur and Gwyar's first pov scenes in game. I think I am finally satisfied, and hopefully you will be too

Polish the code a bit.

Not much, but still. What's left to do for the update is:

Edit Morien's first meeting with MC in chapter 2

Finish writing the ROs scenes in chapter 2 (part 2)

Code chapter 2 part 2 (😭)

I'll keep you updated if I manage to get some progress done in the weekend!

Golden Ashes (blog)

Last week I finally changed the title and the blog aesthetic, so there's that. I am very happy with the new look. As for the rewrite:

I have been slowly working on it since summer. The total wordcount is around 3k words, and it includes Cherena's first meeting + dragon MC's introduction into society. It's about 30% of the updated Prologue.

I have done a bit of work on the Twine UI for Golden Ashes, but with the Sugarcube update I will need some help to have it all working as it should. Still, it's mostly done so it shouldn't require much additional time

Aand that's all. See you soon❤

[tornioduva]

Dungeon meshi and body proportions

Ok, i'm feeling the rush i got from binging the manga this last week is starting to fade away, i'll be back to being a normal person soon i think. at least, that is before i find a new something for me to dive into uhuh.

Before that happens, i want to praise Ryoko Kui for one last think. The design of the characters!

For years i've expressed (maybe not so much online) my hate towards the "anime style", this homogenization of traits and beauty standards to an artificial degree, and the mass spread and consumption of it. yes, trends exist for a reason, this is not the first nor the last art current to be popular and i'm not the first detractor of one in history. I do think there is something uniquely harmful in this one though, and that is why i'm able to find the energy to be such a pretentious dipshit about it. That is a discussion for another day though.

All this to say that going through Dungeon Meshi and seiing these characters, plus (and in a way because of it) all the additional sketches of the daydream hour bonus sections, was such a breath of fresh air! (at least for what concerns japanese exported stories)

All i could say and praise in regard to character designs in general is perfectly expressed in this video, which i recommend you to watch if you want to hear my opinions (and the video author's too, uhuh):

I want to leave you though with at least one specific praise for me: Falin.

i've seen countless time people (online) just not understanding how people's body work, how much differences there can be and how proportions do distribute and affect the body. in anime I see a lot of short and tall people (mostly women girls) that share the same proportions despite their actual height, and that often leads to think "yeah, she is short" and than she's tall when around someone, or (most often) the contrary. same lenght of limbs, same head to body proportions, and little details like this.

Falin you can tell at a glance she is a tall woman before she's around anyone, even when she is standing near her brother who is taller than her.

Kui did her homework in studying bodies and variations, and, whether consciously or not, she differentiated her in body in subtle but fundamental ways: her head being slightly smaller than her body, the neck being fairly long, and her having somewhat broader shoulders.

I accept that there might be an element of suggestion at play here, considering also how she is dressed most of the time, but I really do think there is a direct effort at differentiation here.

This is the first time in a long time (in a series like this at least) where i've seen a woman carrying herself around others and the space around here kind of like a person like me, tall, would; at first i didn't think much of it, but then i saw her near other characters and....i don't know, i felt a warm, joyful feeling, seeing that i was right in recognizing that trait and being right.

I was especially happy in seeing her next to marcille. not so much for the height difference, but for how different they were in proportions and mannerism. A lesser manga i fear would have used marcille's body type and way of moving and interacting as the default for most other girls, but here she was uniquely herself!

Now, i could've used more extreme exemples to show how this author rocks in body types representations (while aknowledging there could've been even more diversification still), given there are far larger, taller and stranger women, but to me, nailing the little, most subtle details in such a chirurgical manner shows a greater level of mastery and comprehension. As such, Falin left me with a deeper fascination than most other characters.

Sorry for this wall of text, but i needed to let my happy thoughts go, so that i could be free again uhuh.

Feel free to tell me that i'm wrong, or that i should just accept anime media as is. i'm just really happy Dungeon meshi exists as is and i want Ryoko Kui to keep refining her craft, and drawing beautiful women and dwarves.

Plus, this was very much a stream of consciousness, i didn't go into technical details about what i think conveyed what i described, but if someone is interested, or does not get what i'm saying (while expressing it in a curious and gentle way, i won't respond to spiteful assholes), i'll be happy to make a follow up post in which i try to dissect this! For example, i didn't reread the whole manga to find examples of her, i just went to the wiki uhuh. in a follow up post maybe i'll try to go through chapters and pick more specific examples of her.

Anyway, have a good day!

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

The PledgeManager has launched!

Thank you for bearing with us. We’re happy to say that, as promised, the PledgeManager has officially launched!

In case you missed it, we detailed earlier this week that the publication of the graphic novel has been pushed back from its original July 2024 estimate into Spring 2025 - you can read the full update here. We also want to take a moment to say that we have seen the outpouring of love and support on Kickstarter, and across various platforms, wishing Colleen well in her recovery and the time needed for the graphic novel - a huge thank you from all of the team for your understanding and patience, and for the genuine community and care we’ve seen these past few days. We appreciate you all.

PledgeManager

With this in mind, we think it’s important to underline: though PledgeManager has launched, you do not need to pay for your shipping fees immediately.

The PledgeManager is there for those who missed the campaign to order the graphic novel, and indeed for any backers who would like to upgrade, get some other add-ons, or the new items. You, as a pre-existing backer, should receive an email with information via Kickstarter and/or PledgeManager to inform you that this is now open to you - note, these are sent in waves of smaller batches, so if you don't get yours immediately, don't panic! It will likely take between 12-18 hours to process all the backers.

You are, of course, welcome to pay your shipping right away if you'd like, however we completely understand that you may want to wait until closer to the fulfilment time, or when more solid dates are confirmed, before actioning this.

For this stage, we have compiled a quick FAQ below covering some key questions:

Will the whole project be moving from Kickstarter to PledgeManager? No. This is just for the fulfilment side and logistics - all updates will still remain here.  

Do PledgeManager backers get everything that Kickstarter backers do? No. While the remaining tiers will be made available for those who missed it, with certain stretch goals (e.g. additions to the book, loot boxes, etc), Kickstarter backers have a number of exclusives such as the Good Omens HQ discount code for when the store launches, and the backers only events.  

My PledgeManager address will be different to what is listed on my Kickstarter. Is that fine? Yes. We are handling all logistics through PledgeManager and, as such, that is the only place where we will need your address. If you move or need to change any details, that will be the place to do so.  

Can I change my address? Yes. You can update your address until we are at the shipping stage. We will keep this option open for as long as possible to ensure maximum flexibility around this.  

How are shipping fees calculated? It is based on both weight and the country it is being sent to. We have been working over the past months to streamline processes and bring the costs down from their original starting point.  

Do I have to pay just now? You do not need to pay immediately, but payment will need to be made prior to your items being shipped. You now have a bigger window during which you can make payment. As above, we will keep updating you on the progression of the publication schedule, should you be waiting for firmer dates before doing so.  

What about taxes and import duty? UK: VAT is included in the costs UK backers pay, there should be no extra tax charges. US: We believe (but cannot guarantee) that imports under $800USD in value should not attract import duty, those pledges above may be taxed at import. EU & REST OF THE WORLD: If taxes or duties apply to your pledge, these will need to be paid at time of import into your country. We’ve spent months trying to integrate the costs at this stage, but in having the project open across the globe, it has proven too complex to be able to fully refine and cover all instances and locations, and we’ve been advised that this is the best route forward.  We know a lot of international backers, particularly in the EU – for example – will already be used to this process, and we will keep you all updated on any developments on this front. For all of our backers, we are working hard to make labelling and declaring all of the contents of your pledges as transparent as possible, in order to make taxing and importing as easy and affordable as possible.  

I want to buy the new items, but am waiting to pay shipping. Are they limited? The pins, mugs, notebooks - all the new items specifically added to the PledgeManager are not limited and will be available regardless of whether you get them now, or months down the road. The only limited items are the remaining tiers that have moved over from the Kickstarter (e.g. the Obsidian Tier) that were limited to begin with, and a very limited run of the Alien Parking ticket. Everything else is fully available, in perpetuity.  

Will you be adding extra items to the PledgeManager? No. What is there at launch is all we plan to include at this point - any new items afterwards will instead originate via the Good Omens HQ store.  

Will Kickstarter backers get items first? Yes. We will have a staggered approach for fulfilment: Kickstarter backers, then PledgeManager, then everything that is moving to the Good Omens HQ store will subsequently be made available.

You can also view the more general PledgeManager FAQ at terrypratchett.com.

We will keep PledgeManager and logistical notes present in all the monthly updates going forward, but felt this warranted a dedicated one-off. 

These are available as part of the PledgeManager. Another beauty from our pin designer, Carl Sutton.

Thanks again for your patience. Back in the April monthly update.

In short: :)

The Good Omens Pledge Manager has launched:

those who missed the Graphic Novel Kickstarter: Now you can order the Graphic novel, not all things that were in the original Kicstarter are available but there is stil a lot of options and fuckton of lovely ineffable add-ons! :)<3

those who participated inthe original GO GN Kickstarter: you should an email (Dunmanifestin needs more information to fulfill your reward) with a link that logs you (if not log manually) into the pledgemanager and lets you edit the order (add new add ons) (yep, my wallet weeps :D<3)

The addons:

I mean... how can one resist for example these I do not know... :D

[asapeveryday]

SHOCK FACTOR★彡 PART 3

Previous. Next.

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Rival!Reader

Warnings: swearing, suggestive jokes/language, tension

Summary: having Paige’s number means she can bother you whenever she wants, but maybe a night out with her isn’t a bother at all.

A/n: enjoy guys 😇lmk what you think of this one

YOU

is this paige?

???

Has anyone else given you their number since you got here?

YOU

no…

PAIGE

Aight, so who else would it be then? 🤘🏼

YOU

i should’ve thrown out that napkin tbh!🙂

PAIGE

Ignoring that. How’s the hangover?

YOU

it’s ok. getting coffee helped ig

PAIGE

Having another night out might help too…if u fw that

YOU

with you? id rather die then “fw that” 🙏

PAIGE

Ok rot in ya hotel room see if I care 🤷🏼‍♀️

Seen.

PAIGE

Actually nvm I feel bad for ur miserable ass. U shud fr go out and see what Connecticut has to offer. Ever been to Gianni’s?

YOU

no i haven’t, I’ve only been here for like two days. is it italian food?

PAIGE

Only the best in town 😉 u shud def go

YOU

ugh I would but i have to see if elaine can take me cus my teammates are busy

PAIGE

I could take u if u want?

YOU

typing…

YOU CAN FEEL yourself getting socially drained as you text her, at least that’s what you tell yourself. Paige is infuriating and arrogant, which comes with the deadly additions of charisma and the ability to keep you on edge with every word spoken, or even typed.

You’d always known of this, even before your game with her that day. A player like Paige can be hard to come across; perfectly capable, talented and independent yet somehow the best team player out there, sharing passes she can without a doubt make. Why? Because she doesn’t need to prove anything.

It often bothered you, especially since you constantly needed to prove yourself during the start of your college career. You took every shot you could get your hands on, and she gave shots away like candy whilst still having a huge reputation as a player. Obviously it went deeper than that, but the simple fact just stuck to your brain.

You can’t help but recall her face, inches from yours attempting to pry your ball from your grasp. Like she was deserving, like it was hers for the taking. She had made a similar face on the panel where she dissed you soon afterwards, and then again while watching you at the bar, and just before writing her number on the napkin. You wondered if she was making that face right now as she texts you.

PAIGE

I could take u if u want?

The text is simple but it summons some sort of unique feeling in you. Paige Bueckers is offering to pick you up in her car, on her night off, and take you to a restaurant. And you, for whatever reason, are considering saying yes.

Sighing to yourself, you weigh your options. Option one: you sit around your hotel alone till your teammates come back, most probably drunk from a bar since it’s a Saturday. Option two: you ask Elaine to take you out once again, even though you’re probably gonna see her the whole week you’re here. Option three: you let the girl who shit-talked you at a post game conference take you out for dinner.

YOU

i guess i should go out. DONT act like ur doing me a favour tho….n if I don’t have fun i’m blocking u.

PAIGE

Drop the addy. I’ll come by in an hour

Seen.

After hurriedly pulling yourself together, taking an Advil, checking out the restaurant’s Instagram and getting ready you can’t help but find your heart steadily hammering inside of you. Paige is coming to your hotel. You’re gonna be in her car. She’s taking you to her favourite restaurant. This has to be the most peculiar thing that has happened all year.

-

The car ride is significantly better then you expected it would be. Paige adamantly seems to prevent any room for awkward silence to seep through, commenting on your outfit and filling the vehicle with music that makes the interior buzz from the volume. She has a free look on her face, chair reclined more then you’d dare if you were in the drivers seat, hair blowing in her face from the windows being down.

“I’m surprised you’re driving me out.” You say, finally airing what was on your mind.

Paige shrugs. “Didn’t feel like drinking today. Plus, I’m in the mood to be generous and show you what Storrs has.”

“If someone told me I’d be hanging out with Paige Bueckers like a week ago, I think I’d be fucking appalled. Or disgusted. Or both.” You laugh.

She chuckles, glancing at you sneakily. “You swear a lot, don’t you?”

“Awe my bad.” You pout, giving her a fake-concerned look. “Forgot you can’t handle a little language.”

“I can handle it,” she grumbles. “I just think cursing is better for specific situations.”

“Like what?”

Paige wets her lips almost sheepishly, but she keeps her eyes straight on the road. “Like sex.”

A beat passes before you respond “Sorry I couldn’t savour a couple words for you and your little kink.”

She looks over at you now, and you meet her gaze as equally as you can. She just lets out a smile, shaking her head to herself as she pulls into the parking lot. You try to ignore the elevator-sinking feeling in your stomach from her words as you get out from the car.

The restaurant is beautiful. It’s cozy, ambient and well decorated. Not too fancy and not too full, just perfect. You’re seated in a more secluded area, per Paige’s request. She orders for you, insisting she knows exactly what to get for the best possible experience.

The food is good, and you don’t feel the need to hide it from Paige, who visibly grows at your praise for the place she picked out.

“So, are you jus in Connecticut for Elaine?” She says.

“Not really.” You reply. “Me and some of the others are just doing a little East Coast road-trip. I wasn’t really interested in coming to Storrs, but it made sense to come by and see her.”

“For a whole week?” She raises her eyebrow. “Seems like you’re close.”

“I was only gonna stay in Storrs for a couple days, then go to Hartford but the girls seem to like it here.” You shrug. “They think it’s cute, being a small town and all, but it’s pretty boring if you’re not a student.”

“It’s better if you’re with fun people.” She smiles.

“I hope you don’t think you’re fun.”

“Compared to Elaine I definitely am.” Paige scoffs.

You can’t help but feel a little more hostility than humour in her tone.

“Do you guys know each other?” You ask, as sly and innocent as you can muster. Paige seems hesitant.

“Nah.” She finally decides. “I mean, we’ve talked before. Ion know her personally.”

“It’s kinda funny, she said she doesn’t pay much attention to you but I think she might have a little crush.” You laugh.

Paige visibly stiffens at this, which catches you by surprise.

In a split second she regains her calm, unbothered composure. “What has she said?”

“Not much.” You shrug. “Just seems a little interested.”

Paige’s jaw clenches for a moment, and you’re not surprised when she changes the subject. “How many people have been on your case since I posted that picture of us from the bar on my story?”

“God, so many.” You laugh, shaking your head. “You?”

“You don’t even wanna know.” She scoffs. “Not sure why everyone was so crazy bout it though, s’not like we were beefing for real.”

“Right!” You say, happy she seems to be on the same page. “It was just some petty crap. I guess people just really were hoping there would be some rivalry.”

You think for a moment, before saying. “Maybe we should keep this drama thing up. Might be fun.”

“It’s a lil too late for that,” Paige shakes her head with a slight smile. “remember how KK and Ice were on live yesterday at the coffee shop? Yeah, we kinda were in the background at some point. People saw us talking.”

“You’re joking.”

“Dead serious. There are edits and everything.”

You rest your head in your hands, elbows on the table, lessening the proximity between you and her. “I only get into these weird ass situations when I interact with you, Paige.”

She sits up in her seat, blue eyes quickly looking you up and down. “Yet you’re still here.”

“Girl’s gotta have fun.” You shrug. Her foot hits yours under the table, her eyebrow raised as if challenging you. You have a sudden thought of going under the table and letting your hands unzip her cargo pants, but instead you just kick her back.

“Wanna go?” She asks. You don’t want to go back to the hotel, and she seems to pick up on it. “The area we’re in is nice. We can walk around a bit.”

You smile and nod. “Split the bill?”

“Fuck no.” She shoots you a look, pulling out her credit card from the back of her phone.

“You cursed!” You exclaim, to which she scoffs.

“I said it’s alright in specific situations.”

Now it’s your turn to scoff. “Well we’re not having sex, are we?”

The way her eyelashes flutter at your question gives you jitters. “Aight, stop talking.” She finally manages to respond. You just send her a look that you hope makes her nervous.

-

“You’re not funny.” She grumbles, attempting to grab your phone from you.

“Back off, Bueckers! I’m serious.” You laugh, sidestepping her with your phone above your head. The street was empty and the lights were on, putting the two of you in a yellow glow against the night. You’d been walking around the neighbourhood, observing houses and learning a bit about Storrs for the past hour.

“Give me your phone, I know you ain’t deleting those.” She huffs, grabbing for your phone. You try to escape her grasp but she’s got longer limbs, so eventually your phone is in her pocket and she’s wearing a proud look on her face.

It’s nice to walk in the quiet of evening, her beside you. You have no idea where you are but you can’t help but trust she can get you back to the car in no time. Not just yet though.

You turn to look at Paige almost shamelessly. There’s just so much to observe with her. Her confident posture, toothy smile, sleek straightened blonde hair, even the baggy cargo pants and sweater. She always looked good, it never failed to annoy you.

“Either your pants are too tight or crazy baggy.” You note. She just raises her eyebrow.

“Sounds like you just want me to take my pants off at this point.”

“Wouldn’t mind a little show.” You reply almost instantly, shocking yourself at the surge of confidence. She doesn’t seem taken aback, in fact she’s intrigued.

“Is that your usual routine? Have a meal out then have a meal at home?”

“Maybe it is.” You shrug. “I never object to a wine n dine.”

“And what exactly would you object to?”

“Cocky girls who think they’re the shit.” You say, turning your head to face her. You don’t mean to target her, but she simply smiles.

“Is it really being cocky if I can back it up though?” Paige asks quietly. You’re not walking anymore, stuck in place on an empty path between buildings. She’s closing in on you until your back hits a brick wall. The way Paige is staring down at you, hands in her pockets, lip between her teeth. It’s nothing you’d object to, ever.

“I won’t believe it till I see it.” You mutter, holding her eye. The air is tense in a new way that you haven’t felt with her since you first met in the bar. Her face is entrancing.

Paige’s hands lift your jaw upwards, and she leans into your ear. “You might not see it,” she mumbles, breath hot against your skin. “But you’ll definitely feel it.”

When she pulls back from your ear she stays hovering just above you, hands chastely holding your head up. You’re in the perfect position to kiss, and you can’t stop your eyes from darting between her electric stare to her lush, pink lips.

You can literally feel her breath on your mouth when a piercing ring cuts through the moment. It’s coming from her pocket, and she pulls out your phone. Paige’s face twists as she reads the screen. “It’s Elaine.”

“Just- just decline it.” You rush out, not caring how desperate you sound. You can feel how wet you are, and the lack of heat against you is blaring.

“She texted you too.” Paige scoffs. “She’s waiting for you at your hotel.”

You don’t even know what to say. Paige’s face is expressionless. You’re disappointed, but there’s no point in begging. Nothing really happened.

“Let’s get you home.” She says, starting to walk back from where you came. “Shouldn’t keep her waiting.” Her tone is dripping with toxicity. It makes you shiver.

[msschemmenti]

fun police - 3

bau x reader / eventual emily prentiss x reader

a/n: is anyone interested in reading y/n’s sessions with the other team members? or are we cool with focusing on emily?

“why are you here?” jj asked as she breezed past emily’s darkened office. she and alves had gotten an early morning break on a case they were working and were just getting back. she glanced at her wrist and caught sight of the abnormally early hour and stepped into the office curiously.

“i’m doing my homework.” emily grumbled but kept her eyes closed and her wrist angled.

“homework? what are you talking about?” jj asked as she allowed her eyes to fully take in emily’s crisscrossed legs and closed eyes.

emily’s peaked an eye open to address jj, “homework from fun police y/ln. didn’t you get homework too?”

“no? i don’t think anyone got homework. this is the first im hearing of any of that.” jj replied, fighting down a laugh as she realized what emily was actually doing. “are you meditating?”

“no one else has homework? what the hell…” emily grumbled uncrossing her legs and leaning against the couch.

“no, what did you say to y/n? we all kinda expected you to talk your way out of any additional sessions. but now i see that’s not what happened. giving you homework and a weekly meeting is kind of extreme. i mean even rossi is on bi-weekly sessions.” jj said leaning on the arm of one of the loungers.

“even rossi? he’s faaaar worse than me. i’m pretty sure he’s still seeing voit in his head.” emily grumbled causing jj to laugh. “i don’t know what it is about her. it’s like as soon as we’re alone she sucks every bit of coherence and sense out of my brain. and then i just end up looking stupid. and mentally ill.”

“yeah i’ll give you that. she has a way of pulling things out for sure. but i don’t think that’s why you seem to be having a far more difficult time articulating yourself…” jj smiled suggestively.

“and what’s that supposed to mean?”

“oh i don’t know, it probably doesn’t help that she’s so attractive.” jj could see the protest on emily’s face so she continued. “i know i was a little surprised. i never really envisioned a wellness agent but it definitely wasn’t her.”

“well i won’t judge you for that.” emily mumbled, looking at her nails dismissively. “i don’t think that’s my problem though. her questions are just built to cause confusion.”

jj looked at emily skeptically, “well what did she ask you?”

“to define relaxation. what do i look like webster’s dictionary? oh and she asked me what tasks i enjoy. how unprofessional.” emily grumbled, unintentionally calling forth the very inappropriate image of y/n she’d created in her head during their first session.

“unprofessional? how was that unprofessional?”

“well what i like to do is unprofessional…” emily shrugged, and jj’s face lit up in amusement.

“emily elizabeth prentiss, did you tell our wellness agent the only thing you enjoy doing is sex? unprovoked?” jj was almost giddy.

“i wasn’t unprovoked! she’d been questioning me for the past hour— and i was just being honest. also i didn’t say out outright.”

“but you heavily alluded to it. to someone you are denying being attracted to. and what did she say?”

“i never denied anything. you’re making me sound guilty or guiltier than i should be! after that she asked how often i participate in that activity… and then i may have said something along the lines of ‘far more than she could think of’ or something like that.”

“oh my god!” jj grinned.

“no no oh my god-ing. she gave me homework after that.” emily shrugged, skipping the part where she conjured and image that had been living with her for the last week.

“uh huh sure. you can skip the part where she gave some witty remark that probably sent your brain into overdrive. it’s written on your face. and the more you deny it— the more i know.” jj shrugged. “anyways what is your homework, anyway?”

ignoring jj’s words emily shrugged, “i had to do four relaxing things that were not basic needs to survive.”

“and what have you done besides meditate?”

“i googled relaxing things to do and did the first four easiest things. light a candle,” she gestured to the candle burning on her desk. “check. drink some tea,” mug on the coffee table. “check. i took a walk from my car in the parking garage to my office. check. and finally my meditation. check.”

“right.” jj held the word with a nod. “seems you’ve got this under control. i look forward to hearing how this turns out.”

“hardy har har, of course you do.” emily huffed, pulling herself from the floor and sitting on the couch. “despite what you seem to think— im going to ace this session.”

jj chuckled and nodded, “whatever you say. regardless i’ll be waiting to hear about it tomorrow.”

-

when their session time came— emily made sure to be stretched across her couch, empty mug on display with the tes bag hanging on the side, and the candle burning some sort of vanilla lavender scent.

“wow, look at you! feeling relaxed?” y/n asked as she appeared in emily’s open doorway.

“i’m as zen as zen can be.” emily boasted with a shrug as she made an effort to lean further in the couch.

“uh huh,” y/n nodded coming in the office fully and taking the seat across from the couch. “how was that homework?”

emily preened at the opportunity to show off her ‘honest’ efforts at relaxation. “great! i meditated this morning. took a walk before work. i’ve been on tea today and i’ve even got a nice candle going. so very relaxing.”

y/n nodded along with a smile and as soon as emily finished she leaned forward on her knees, “so that sugary to-go coffee cup with your name scribbled on it in the trash can isn’t yours? and the walk you took wasn’t from the parking garage to the door, was it? surely not! and if i took at look at your candle, it wouldn’t be brand new— only lit for what an hour before i arrived? surely not! and that meditation-“

emily groaned, loudly and extended. “how the hell do you know all of that? i’m starting to think you’ve got cameras on me. full surveillance.”

y/n chuckled, “no none of that. you’re just really predictable. to me at least.”

“predictable? i’ll have you know, im very spontaneous. just a few months ago i told a gang of armed men to shoot me!” emily said indignantly.

“and that’s why we’re sitting here in the first place. if your one instance of spontaneity is telling a gang of armed men to shoot you—“

“well in the context of the situation—“ emily tried to explain but stopped at y/n’s deadpan. “oh alright, just give me another homework assignment.”

y/n shook her head, “no homework considering you don’t do it very well. i’ve got a better idea. next week we’re going on a field trip for our session. share your calendar with me and i’ll pop an official invite with details on there so everyone will know you’re out of office for an hour.”

“a field trip? i hardly see how that’ll work, im in meetings all day and my phone is always ringing off the hook. i’m a very busy woman.” emily protested.

“yeah yeah yeah, busy smisy. excuses excuses. it’s happening whether you like it or not. go ahead and blow out your candle and stop hiding your coffee. next week you’re all mine.” y/n waved dismissively before heading toward the door.

“wait that’s it? i don’t even get a chance to redeem myself today? no questions?” emily groaned.

“nope, that’s it for today. make sure you get rossi to sign your permission slip.” y/n winked over her shoulder and exited the office with a grin.

[multiwreckedmess]

Kinktober Day 20

Prompt: Aphrodisiac Pairing: roommate!Wooyoung x fem!reader WC: 5.4k Summary: Someone needs to put a parental block on Wooyoung’s browser. Or cut his credit card. (A part 2 to Feb.Filth.Fest)

This is a work of fiction, it does not represent Wooyoung or any Ateez 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.

I feel the need especially with “rougher” prompts like this to put the disclaimer - fanfic should NOT ever be used as a guide to relationships or sex. ESPECIALLY SEX. Again, it’s fiction. Stuff gets glossed over for the sake of a good story. Please PLEASE please again, not fact, not a guide, just a fantasy.

Additional TW/CW below the cut.

TW/CW: I would classify this as dubcon as TECHNICALLY the reader is under the influence unknowingly of said aphrodisiac. Everyone in this is having a good fun time and it is merely a catalyst but still, I feel that needs to be a warning itself. Additional warnings are: bodily fluids, so much unprotected fucking, lots of pet names and degrading names used both towards reader and wooyoung (most obnoxious is the amount I’ve chosen to use “Wooyoungie” so be warned). reader body parts described as fem, also addressed as “girl” a couple of times. Mostly just plain ol’ sloppy sex.

 Wooyoung barely peaks over the edge of his phone screen as he hears the slap of a bag against the coffee table.  “Jung Wooyoung-”  “OOoh using my full name today are we?”  “JUNG WOOYOUNG,” you start again, louder and angrier. “After last time you really think another bag of these godforsaken things was a smart investment to spend your refund on?”  Wooyoung fights the tug of a sly grin forming at the corners of his mouth. “What about that wasn’t a good time? You seemed to have a good time.”  Sucking your teeth you glare at him. “Something about walking in on my roommate coated in his own cum soaked boxers, babbling about how he was dying, left a sour impression on me. Could you imagine that?”  “Hot,” he gives into the grin, a small puff of a chuckled exhale escaping his nose.  You roll your eyes, “you’re a fucking gremlin. Get rid of them, in the trash or give them to your friends. I’d say get rid of them however you want but-” you see his eyes twinkle mischievously and you nod. “Exactly. So, trash or friends. Not food for Wooyoungie. Not again.”

 To his credit, the bag disappears the next day, almost as though it’s evaporated into thin air, and the whole threat of a repeat incident starts to slip your mind. It’s completely forgotten as you haphazardly plunder Wooyoung’s side of the cupboards looking for an afternoon snack. Several weeks of aspirational grocery shopping left your side of the cupboard bare of easy dopamine hits. So when the 4pm slump came around, each week it got harder and hard to fight. That’s how you found yourself digging through his stash of popcorn and gummies of all shapes and sours. A desperate measure for a desperate person. That’s when your fingers brush against a small twisted up bag of half melted gummies seemingly forgotten at the back of the stash. Surely Wooyoung had forgotten about them, the lump of coagulated colors meshing into a mystery kaleidoscope of flavor.

 You try to only eat a few but the way they’re melted together and their sweet fruity floral flavor you end up finishing the bag mindlessly. Which is only a problem for the theoretical goal of eating less sugar. Not a real problem, a pretend problem. Luckily it provides just the buzz of sugar and serotonin to propel you through the last hours of your day.

 As you type your toes tap. Must’ve been some preworkout gummies, jitters passing through you like caffeine. Your stomach twists but it’s just about 5pm and you’re almost done with your essay so you power through, blinking to force your focus. You can barely tell how you’re twisting in your seat, thighs plastered together as you start to sweat.

 When did it get so warm? You try to breathe deeply to release the tension in your chest. Why did it feel like you were going to explode, as though you’d forgotten to breathe? Mouth dry, your gut burns and twists. It’s almost like you need to use the bathroom, almost. But you’re so thirsty. There’s no way you need to use the bathroom, you’re parched.  The whole apartment smells like Wooyoung. Like warm soil and vanilla and musk. In your time as friends and apartment mates it’s grown comforting and safe. It’s like an easy spring day cuddled up to a lover. What you wouldn’t give for one of those now. Cuddling and pressing together, just cold enough that keeping as tight to each other as possible was the best way to fight the elements. How nice it would be to put your nose in the crook of Wooyoung’s collar and breathe him in, scent mixing into the wool.  No. No more of that. Your core aches in need. No more daydreaming, especially about that brat. None.  Chugging a glass of water in the kitchen you’re still insatiable, toes tapping against the linoleum anxiously. When would Wooyoung be home? Do you have time for a quick moment alone? You hadn’t had that sort of “me” time in a bit so maybe that would help. Without thinking too much of it your shove your hand in your pants, fingers gliding between your folds. You’re already soaking through your underwear as you rub against your clit. It takes maybe a minute before you’re leaning into the side of the counter, knees knocking together as you cum. It feels good but another would feel even better.

 The apartment smells like that day, or the aftermath of that day, as Wooyoung swings the door open. Floral with a raw musky edge pervading the air. The faint electrical buzz of something vibrating perking his ears.  “Wooyoung,” you whine, still hidden from his view. “Wooyoung you didn’t throw them out.”  Instead of going straight to you, to the living room, or even to his room, Wooyoung goes to the kitchen trash, an empty plastic bag sitting on the counter. “You’ve been raiding my snacks I see.”  “You didn’t throw them out,” you whine again, tone tilting up into a hushed gasp. “You told me you did!”

 Your face is stained with sweat and tears, slightly swollen lips from biting down on them. He’s sure you don’t even notice the subtle rocking motion your pelvis makes as your thighs rub together. But he notices.  “You look desperate,” he notes aloud, eyes flickering dangerously. “I must’ve looked worse.”  The cocky smile that you’d usually be so eager to strip from his face sends a shudder through your body. The fact is, he looks like he might eat you whole and you would’ve mind that in the least. Fucking betrayed by your cunt which throbs unapologetically at the passing thought. His eyes flicker again, a knowing flicker, as your cheeks burn. If your embarrassment could generate energy there would be enough to light a city block for a day. He knows. It’s only a matter of time now.  “Can you not be like this?” You whine, fingers gripping the edge of the couch. It’s closer now than ever as you lean forward, just a little bit more pressure. Just a little bit more.

 Wooyoung cocks his head, letting the motion lead him to turn on his heel and drift into the hallway. “Not sure what you mean.”  A fresh wave of arousal floods your thighs. Insolent brat. “You fucking know what I mean.”  “You’re right, I do, I do know exactly what you mean. I’m just waiting for you to say it.” He smiles that foxy grin again. You forcefully squeeze your eyelids shut, as if he couldn’t see you if you couldn’t see him. “Did you just cum? How many times have you?”  Shame burns your cheeks. “You don’t know that.”

 “We’ve fucked of course I know what you look like when you cum.” He sounds sickeningly proud of this. Proud of being one of the few and mighty to know.  “Pervert,” your nose wrinkles and you squeeze your eyelids tighter.  “Says the one who just made herself cum in the living room while her roommate stood there. You didn’t even ask if you could. If I’d even want you to. You needed to get off that badly didn’t you? I know. I know because I did it too. I remember.”  Despite having just cum, your heart is racing. Wiggling your toes you can feel the excess energy pouring off of you. It’s uncomfortably warm. This is your penance. You want to use Wooyoung’s thigh, muscular and sturdy. Just hump the shit out of it while he sucks hickeys in your chest. The thought consumes you, the memory of the sweet little hums of satisfaction he’d made as he-  “Wooyoung!” You yelp, eyes snapping open and brimming with tears. “You have to go. You have to, I can't control it. I really can’t. Wooyoung I can’t let this happen to us again.” You’re practically begging as you feel the knife of lust twist tighter in your gut. Folding over, you shift your legs just enough to provide pressure to your throbbing core, a moan of relief wracking your body. It’s pathetic, you’re pathetic.

 It takes only a couple strides for him to close the gap between himself and the couch. Again was all he’d been wishing for since that day. Wooyoung slips in behind you, propping your back against his chest as you sob. “Do you want me to help you out, I know how,” he suggests as his fingers trace the seam of your pants up your inner thigh. Your hips buck up with a whimper.  “No, I’m fine,” you sniff.  “No? You and I both know the quickest way to get this problem solved.”  His hands splay across the fronts of your thighs, inching slowly towards the hem of your shirt. A trickle of sweat beads at your brow. The room is too hot for this closeness. Too hot for how dressed you both are. You’re burning up in this embrace but you like it, you need it. He smells so much like him and only him. Even if you purchased a bottle of the same cologne you could never replicate it. Warm and comforting and earthy. Your head tips back to his shoulder as you follow your nose to the side of his neck subconsciously.  “You must be in a lot of pain,” he coos with an air of condescension. “I know you are because I remember. You probably don’t even realize how hard your ass is pressing into my cock but I can tell you, it’s enough to leave an impression.”  “Wooyoung,” you whine again huffing as you divert all your mental energy to stilling your hips. “It’s your fault! You can’t make fun of me. You can’t tell anyone. I-I-” your lower lip trembles, breathing hard. His hand barely ghosts over your lower belly and you shake, cumming unceremoniously the instant he brushes over your mound.  You can feel the mixture of his lips and teeth and the condensation of his breath as he whispers against your ear. “Someone was in my bed earlier. Now unless you let someone in and they took a nap, there’s really only one other person that could’ve been.” Slowly his nails catch on the ridges of the denim fabric, almost plucking like a string as he strokes the rest of the way up the seam.  Moaning you bury your face as deep as you can in the side of his neck, practically drooling as your head swims with his scent. It sinks into your stomach and satiates a bit of the hunger gnawing at your insides. “Sorry,” you bleat suddenly, half muffled by him. He can feel your thighs quake as you cum again.  “Can you tell me why you were in my bed? Or did you get lost on the way to yours?”  “Smelled so good. You smell so good. Had to. Had to while I- god damn it Wooyoung. You know. Of all people. You know!” Your throat tenses, voice cracking hideously. You had gone in his room. Into his bed. You’d put your nose right into the mattress with you ass up in the air as you’d finger fucked yourself to completion, all the while inhaling the unwashed unadulterated scent of your roommate. What was worse is that you’d never cum harder or felt better.  “I promise you it’s much easier if you give in. I know you like a fight but you’re about to shake your skin off the bones.”  You sniffle. You hate how right he is. You hate how much you want him to make you cum. You hate that you can’t just be relaxed and calm and collected and cool about it. Sometimes best friends fuck, it can be that simple. It’s not that simple though, you think as your entire body flashes hot and shakes in his arms. “Wooyoung,” you whine again, twisting to face him and straddling his lap. “Do you mean it?”  Tenderly he swipes your sweat matted hair from the sides of your face and kisses your cheek. He kisses everyone’s cheeks, you remind yourself before you let your heart flutter too hard at the small action. “I’m your best friend, babe. It would be my pleasure, whenever you’re ready.”  God damn it Wooyoung, you swear internally. You’d almost rather his almost combative side than the gentle care he is giving you now. It’s less dangerous to you. You can write that off easier. Both of your foreheads meet, his lips hang loosely open, somehow plumper when you’re looking down from on top of him. From here you can see the mole on his lower lip even clearer. “You don’t say shit about this to any of our friends,” you hiss in his ear, tugging his head back by his hair. You can’t afford for him to do anything unexpected. Not right now. “No one knows about this. None. Got it?”  He chuckles, adams apple bobbing in his neck. “Still fighting?” He looks delicious, smirking under you like this. You could eat him right up. “Even when you’re humping me like horny teenager, you still want to pretend like you have this all under control.” You look down, your hips betraying you as you grind on the growing lump in his pants. It’s not like you can feel much through the fabric of your jeans, it’s embarrassing that despite this you still do it. Wooyoung’s hands rest in the juncture of your hip and thigh, subtly encouraging the action with the slight press of his finger tips. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul.”  You shudder, fingers flexing and tugging at his hair. His eyes roll back with a half pain half pleasure moan. He sounds just like you remember, like you’ve been trying not to remember. Flush with the heat of arousal, your eyes lock on his. “Help. It’s your fault, help me.”

 Strength surges in Wooyoung, lifting up from the couch, carrying you with your legs locked around his waist. The warm earthy vanilla smell grows as he walks down the hall into his bedroom, tossing you onto his already defiled bed, shoving aside the toys you’d forgotten in your lust induced haze. Closing your eyes, you ball the sheets in your hands and shove the scent soaked cotton into your face. The familiarity calms your raging libido just as you feel the weight of Wooyoung sinking into the mattress.

 “I’m going to take care of you, okay?” His fox-like eyes peek up at you from below. “Can’t believe you ate them all. ‘M not going to be able to cum as much as you can.” He tugs your jeans down from your hips, followed swiftly by your underwear, nearly completely soaked with sweat and release. He doesn’t give you enough time to become embarrassed, splayed out in front of him as you are. Propping your legs back further, his lips wrap over your slit, licking into you messily. The strong flick of his tongue has your legs shaking, cumming easily on his lips.  ‘So sensitive,’ he giggles, kissing the inside of your thigh.  “It’s your fault,” you slur, head lolled back into the mattress. “Fucking gummies.”  “Yeah that’s their point. Fucking.” He slurps at you again. “God you taste good.” Lick. “Thought you weren’t as messy as I was-” Slurp. “-but you’re dripping all the way down to your thighs.”  “Nooo,” you whine and cover your face in embarrassment, knees knocking into his head gently.  “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” Wooyoung slurps again, this time his lips locking over the sensitive skin of your thigh and sucking a pink welt into it. A welt that only the two of you would ever see or know about. The thought excites him, erection pressed hard to the fabric of his underwear.  He’s eager and attentive and the sounds that fill the room are appropriately lewd to match. He drinks you like a man at an oasis, appreciatively humming, lips buzzing with sympathetic vibrations. Slipping two fingers into you, you cum again easily, just happy to have resistance to your spasms.  “Now just imagine if you’d left some for me,” he laughs, wiping his lips on the back of his arm. The tip of his nose glitters as do his eyes.  “You came so much last time,” you pant. His help has relieved some of the tension, or at least your hand wasn’t cramping. “-so full-so much-”  “You think you haven’t?” He laughs again, grabbing your waist and suddenly flipping you like a ragdoll. As if to make a point he pulls your hips up, dragging your front into the mattress, and pushes his full length in. You groan as the tip presses into your cervix snugly, his hips flush to the curve of your ass. His hands grip your ass, spreading you open as he slowly rolls his hips into you. “Cute little pussy seems to like me more than you do. Taking me in so nicely,” he says through gritted teeth.  Face mashed into the sheets you drool, the debauched position has you seeing stars. Almost helpless with your arms pinned below you and your ass in the air the wondrous fog of lust drapes over your inhibitions. “Cum, please, need-” you mutter, muffled by the blankets. “Need it, need you-” you chant over and over, tunneled in on the one request. Feel him cum, feel the warm release pulse and coat you inside.  “Yeah babe, I think you waited long enough for this,” he says, hands pressing into the small of your back as his hips snap faster. “I know you need it real bad. Gonna take it like a good slut for me?”  “Please.” Your earnest cries catch in the damp cotton. Blurry relief and endorphins wash over you as you clench around him. Desperate to milk him dry you slam yourself backwards. His rhythm catches and falters, fingers squishing into your flesh as he cums deep inside. The first splash of release feels euphoric, your legs giving up, leaving Wooyoung to hold your hips steady. He pulls back and rams deep again gasping and panting as he pushes himself even deeper, trying to mold you to his shape.

 Wooyoung lets you slip sideways onto the bed, cum dribbling down your thighs. “Does it feel better?” A warm towel presses to your sex.  Want burrows deep in your gut. Shamefully you remain silent. You want to tell him yes but you can’t. You need more. The craving burns worse than hunger or thirst. You hear the clink of ice cubes in a glass and open your eyes.  “You’ve lost a lot of water.” A statement of fact. Lost a lot of water to cumming. You sniff and sip the cool liquid. It doesn’t satiate you. Toes wiggling with anxious energy you try to focus on the feeling of the glass in your hand, the weight, the ridges.  “When can you go again?” Your voice sounds haunted and hoarse.  Wooyoung nods. “I thought you might- it’s gonna-” he hesitates as you rise from the sheets like a woman possessed.  “Can you just-can I just-” you start to pull him down into your arms, grinding down on his half hard cock. He winces and gasps,  “I really can’t yet babe. I promise, just a second,” kissing the side of your neck as he untangles himself and reaches over the side of the bed. “I got a friend to help with this predicament.” Like a rabbit from a magicians hat he pulls your wand vibrator up into the air. All white, large domed head tilted ever so slightly from years of usage. With a click the vibrator whirrs to life in his hand as he touches it to your mound.  You half groan half sob, “-but-need cum.” Your body shakes and thrashes as he presses more insistently. Your orgasm hurts as you clench down on nothing with a sob. Unnatural hunger claws at your chest and stomach, you feel blinded despite fully being able to see. Wave after wave crests over you as if it could overtake you but you’re parched enough to drink the ocean.  “God you look so beautiful fucked out like this,” Wooyoung watches your rapture with delight. Eyes rolling back you look like a renaissance era angel with your hair strewn out and mouth agape.  You barely breathe as you spasm below him, coming back from your experience gasping. “I need-fuck me-fuckme-please-Wooyoung,” oversensitive, you scramble backwards to get away from the whirring implement. A single click and silence fills the room, the only sound is the soft creak of the bedframe as he shuffles between your thighs.  Wooyoung holds the glass of water to your lips, “drink a little more for me.” Guiding the glass back he watches carefully as you sip down even the tiniest bit more. “Would it help if i took an ice cube in my mouth and trailed it down your body?  Dick in hand Wooyoung leans over you, feeding his length to your wanting walls. The aching empty is replaced by the comfort of fullness. It was meant to be like this. Just like this. Full of him in every way. His cock pushes his own seed from you as he thrusts, coating his length in a ring of bodily fluids.  “I want you to cum a couple more times for me, okay? Because I won’t be able to do as much as you.” The telltale buzz of your vibrator coming to life in his hand fills the void of sound. “Just let go.”  “But-cum-” you plead again like a broken record.  Long slow strokes bounce your hips back on his. “I know babe, I know,” his voice drips with false empathy. Lowering the buzzing head to your clit the shockwave is intense, your hips bucking upwards, fucking him deeper into you.  “Wooyoungie,” your voice shakes with your body. “Wooyoungie.”  Your back bows painfully as the top of your head presses into his mattress. You don’t have time to tell him further, to warn him. The euphoria you breach is like none other, your essence floods around him coating the both of you and the sheets. Wet and messy relief washes hot over you, melting what’s left of your mind.  Wooyoung’s eyes roll back, pinching his thigh to keep himself from spilling into you too soon. Even though you’d welcome it, you need it, selfishly he wants this to last. He wants to see you vulnerable and needy for him like he was for you.  To your credit, or your bodies credit, you work him like a pro, hips swiveling and grinding eagerly as you whine. “Wooyoungie please. Please I’ve been so good. Please it hurts so much. Please fill me. I need it. I need you.”  “Oh darling I love when you beg me,” he coos through gritted teeth, refusing to give in as you sob lightly. “You’ve got to work a little harder for it.”  “Wooyoung please, please,” you chant as you arch your hips up, trying to fuck yourself on him as best you can from below. Grunting and groaning in frustration. “It’s not fair,” you bemoan as he chuckles at you. “Can’t, from this angle,” you whine.  Wooyoung cocks an eyebrow at you, hips remaining stone still. “Are you gonna do something about it babe?”  With a huff you push him to his back, cock slipping from you as he settles in the bed. “You fucking asked for it. You asked for it, you dumb bastard.” You spit and swear as you settle back on his cock.  He hisses as he watching himself disappear between your thighs, your hands pressing into his chest as you sit on your throne. Claiming him. His head spins. “I didn’t ask for anything-oh shit.”  Your hips slam down on him with a vengeance. Grinding yourself on him, gasping and moaning as you use him like nothing more than a living dildo. “Loud mouth, only thing you’re good for is cum, not even-not even-shit-” you quickly lose your train of thought to another roll upwards of his hips. Bridging from his thighs he bounces you as your head rolls back, watching your breasts jiggle with the tug of gravity. You almost fall forward as he settles back down, furiously swiveling your hips back and forth over his lower abdomen. Gulping air you shudder and groan. “Going to fucking use you.”  “I like when you use me, pretty girl,” he laughs as his hands run up your front, thumb pressing between your lips. Salty and musky you lap and suck at what’s given to you as if it was your last meal.  “Seems your loud mouth is good for something.”  Carnal is the only way to describe the fire burning in your veins as Wooyoung’s hands travel your body with wonder. His hair halo’d around his head, veins in his neck protruding as he presses back into the pillow. Swearing and groping he tries to steady himself as his hips kick up, abs tensing.  “Gonna-oh shit-gonna-” he stutters. He can barely talk as he pulls all his focus to not cumming just yet. You’re so close, hips losing some coordination for the sake of speed, and he can’t let himself lose control before you do. Grunting in frustration he grits his teeth, grabbing your ass and steadying you over him. Biceps flexing and almost pinning you he grinds up into you, pressure building between his body and your clit. Your eyelids flutter and mouth falls. He’s doing a good job.  “Oh fuck-Woo-oh-” words catch in your throat, pulse dropping to your sex. The gentle pulsing squeeze of your walls draws your well earned reward from him. His release coats and spills out as you huddle over his chest, going in and out of consciousness, refractory shockwaves coursing through you.

 You wake first, his head rests on your soft stomach, bobbing with each inhalation. His hand is still intertwined with yours, both of you sticky from the day’s escapades. It must be well past dinner as your stomach churns with hunger. You have no concept of how you’d gotten here but likely in large part due to his care.  “Feelin’ be’er?” Wooyoung slurs, his thumb slightly stroking yours.  “Hungry,” you groan.  Wooyoung cackles, “it was a lot of energy, need fuel I’m sure.” His fingers escape yours, traveling the juncture of your hip and thigh. Everything still feels hazy but at least it’s quiet. “Are you settled? You good?”  He sounds almost hesitant, it tugs at your heart unexpectedly. You don’t really want it to be over but it is over. The burning subsided.  “I think I need-” you mutter sheepishly.  “-one more?” He finishes your statement with a question, perking his head up. “I think, maybe, I’m definitely running low but-” he babbles even as he’s pressing himself between your thighs. “If you need me to-”  “-if it’s really too much I can-” you start to babble back to him as his lips meeting your navel, leaving you squirming and gasping.  “-it really seems like you still might be dealing with some residual effects. You’re being too nice to me.” Wooyoung is already scooping his arms underneath your torso, hands wrapping up and over your shoulders as he pushes himself easily into you again. It feels like home, warm, cozy.  Eyes rolling back you sigh contentedly. The slip of the remnants of cum lessen the drag of his member but still the indescribable completeness leaves you breathless. Not much is said between you, deep unfettered groans escape muffled into eachothers shoulders. As frenetic and messy and animalistic as each previous session had been, this one was equally as tender.  Wooyoung’s loose lips want to spill confessions of love and desire. Fucking you as if the deeper he reached the more you’d be convinced of his love until his cock brushes your cervix.  You groan and curl below him.  “Too much?”  “Just stay a minute, let me,” you hook your legs over his and plant them into the mattress. Slowly you wind your hips, round and around. The gnawing hunger claims your gut again but this time, this time it isn’t a gummy or a drug pulling a trick. Eyes rolling back you groan again as you grind your clit against his pelvis.  “That’s my girl,” he murmurs almost as an afterthought. The words fall from him easily, unintentionally, and yet leave you gasping as you tip over the edge. Clawing at his back, unbothered by the potential to leave a mark. You almost hope you do, in case he was thinking of going out any time soon, so the next bitch knew someone had been there.  Panting he leans back and away from you, onto his haunches, hips still slowly and shallowly rocking into you. A smirk forms as he surveys the damage. “That good?”  “Cocky bastard.”  His smirk turns to a full foxy grin, “she’s back to the sane I see? I guess I should just-” he pauses before pulling back even more threatening to pull completely from you  Before you can stop yourself, you’re clambering up towards his chest, pawing at his shoulders with a small whine as you sit yourself back on his length. “You’re an ass.”  “You love me,” he says as he presses his forehead to your shoulder. God damn it he’s right, but you won’t admit that. Instead you reciprocate the bend of his head, burying your nose in his neck. Sitting in his lap and rocking with your limbs tangled it’s a different speed than your frantic needy drug induced fucking. More sliding and writhing. Wetter as well, sweat and spit and cum layered from previous rounds. Clingy and breathless. Falling and molding into each other as though two bodies could mesh into one if they simply tried hard enough.  Wooyoung litters your body with kisses for fear his unbusied lips will spill pillowtop confessions. His body aches from overstimulation but still his promise to take care of you drives him forward. The burn in his gut clenches his jaw as it sears down his legs. Slowly he works his mouth all the way down to your breast, arms cradled in the arch of your back as his tongue laves across your nipple. His cock throbs painfully as your walls clench in response.  Unaided by the magic of the gummies you start to break down yourself. Sex burning to the point of numbness you can barely summon the effort to even do the minimal rutting and rocking you have been.  “You can give me one more, right?” You groan out.  His hair tickles you as he nods a yes, lips tingling on you as he moans.  “You’re so so good Wooyoungie. You’ve been so good to me. Use me however you need.”  Wooyoung doesn’t need as much as he wants. Wants you to feel his love. He moves without a second prompting, tumbling the two of you backwards and hoisting your legs up into your chest. His hips pummel yours as he puts all his focus into chasing his high. You no longer whine or moan, you grunt with air forced out with each powerful thrust. The light behind your eyelids burns black as your head swims. Shaking in his grasp the constant squeeze of your desperate cunt spurs him forward. He has to cum. For you, he has to. Even through the searing pain in his inner thighs, you asked him to. He wants to. Lower lip jutting out in concentration, his mouth starts moving without his focus to stop it.  “Fuck, I love you,” he blurts, a weak dribble of cum splashing against your walls. Fingers digging into your ass and the side of your thighs, you can feel his length pulse as his brow furrows and gasps. “I love you so much, fuck. Hurts. God damn it,” he reiterates as he falls forward between your thighs, crushing you chest to chest. “I love you,” he continues to mumble, spit soaking into the pillow pressed to his mouth.  In a bleary haze you pat his shoulder mutely. How can he be so strong and so frail at the same time? Even as he whines and confesses his undying love, your heart swells. You need rest, you need a shower even more. The list grows in your mind as it defogs, listening to him until all that’s left is his slow steady breathing.

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Counting the Minutes

Pairing: Michael Gavey (Saltburn) x f!reader Warnings: Dirty talk, masturbation, phone sex. Word count: ~1k

Summary: Separated for the Christmas break, her and Michael have to get creative.

Author's note: A little addition to The Golden Ratio, though can also be read as a standalone piece. Day twelve of the Smuffmas prompts - "promise and phone sex". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

She nestles beneath the duvet, clicking through the contacts on her Nokia until she reaches Michael’s name. A faint smile tugs at her lips as her finger hovers over the call button, she can’t wait to speak to him.

They have been inseparable since the night that Oliver ditched him. They brought out the best in each other. Michael lit a fire underneath her that made her want to study harder, to strive for perfection in all things. In turn, she softened him up and taught him not to see the world through such a harsh lens. 

Their relationship had become serious enough that they had both chosen to spend their reading week together, instead of going home like the vast majority of people at their college had.

Now the term was over, and Christmas had beckoned them both home; Michael back to his mum, and her back to her dad. It’s odd not to see him every day, and though they’d stayed in touch on MSN Messenger, nothing compares to sitting with their legs entwined as they discuss their notes for their upcoming tutorials.

It’s only been a week and she misses the way he rests his chin against his hand when he’s deep in thought, how the intensity of his unblinking, blue eyed stare causes her skin to grow hot, and the smell of Imperial Leather soap and old books that she inhales when she rests her face in the crook of his neck.

Holding the phone to her ear, it rings once, twice, three times before he answers.

“Hello, you.”

His voice gives her butterflies. It’s the sound she’d attribute to how it feels to run your fingertips against plush velvet.

“Hi,” she says back with a coy smile. God, she wishes she could see him.

“How long can you talk for?” He asks.

“I put credit on my phone yesterday, ten pounds, so should be good for a while.”

“One hundred and sixty six point seven hours.”

She huffs a laugh. Of course his mind wanders to the maths of it.

“You think we could talk for that long?” 

“Hmm,” he muses, “I’m sure we could find a way to pass the time.”

“Like we did during reading week?” She asks softly, her fingers drawing lazy circles against the cotton of her bedsheets.

“Can’t really do that over the phone.”

“Have you ever had phone sex before?”

She hears him suck in a harsh breath before he replies. “What do you think?”

It causes her to giggle. Of course he hasn’t.

“Would you like to try it?” She holds the phone tighter to her ear, a lazy grin upon her lips.

“What does it entail?”

“Well,” she begins, switching her mobile from one ear to the other, and snuggling further down into the bed. “We describe what we’d like to do to each other while we touch ourselves.”

“One thousand, two hundred and fifty.”

“What?”

“On average, I can make you orgasm in about eight minutes. If we run through all of your phone credit then that’s how many times I could make you come.”

“Michael!” She gasps, feeling her insides flutter at the thought. “I don’t think that would be physically possible. I’ll settle for just the one today.”

He huffs a soft laugh, the sound breathy through the receiver. “Yes, I suppose that’s a bit impractical. Alright then, you start.”

“I wish you here right now,” she purrs seductively. “I want to push my hand up your t-shirt and run my fingers against that little trail of hair that leads all the way down your stomach, before I wrap them around your cock.”

His breathing grows heavier and she can hear the faint rustle of clothing in the background. She bites her lip, her own hand snaking beneath the duvet and into the waistband of her knickers.

“I miss the way you feel,” he tells her, voice shaky, “how tightly you grip me when I first push inside of you. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that sensation. You’re so wet, so warm…”

She can hear the slick sound of his hand pumping over his cock, the sound sends arousal pooling between her legs and she circles her pearl in earnest, the added wetness aiding her ministrations. She hadn’t expected him to focus on the sensation of physical touch quite so much, but Michael is pragmatic after all, and his innovative approach excites her.

“Mmmm,” she moans quietly, “I want you to do that thing where you grab my hips to pull me back against you as you fuck me, it feels so good.”

A broken whimper escapes him, and there’s a brief moment of just his ragged breathing before he speaks again.

“The way your thighs tighten against my waist drives me mad. I swear I can still feel you there when I close my eyes, see the way your tits bounce– fuck!”

She whines, circling her bud faster, the coil in her gut tightening. “Wanna slide my hands down to your arse, push you in as deep as you’ll go, watch how your eyes screw shut as you come inside me.”

He grunts. “Wish I could come inside of you so badly. I need to feel you clenching around me, hear the pretty sounds you make as I fill you up.”

Her hips jerk involuntarily against her hand, and she knows she’s close. It’s been a week since he’s touched her and his filthy words have sent her unravelling much faster than she anticipated.

“I’m close,” she pants.

“M–me too,” he huffs back. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard the moment we get back to college.”

“Oh god–” Her response is cut off by her pleasured cry, as she falls apart, her walls spasming around emptiness as her thighs tremble.

A grunt and heavy breathing on the other end of the line lets her know that Michael has reached his end too. There’s nothing but the sound of their shared gasps for air, as they both recover.

“Do you promise?” She finally asks. “To fuck me hard when we get back to college?”

“Tell you what, let’s go back a day early and we can spend an entire day doing just that.”

She giggles excitedly, rolling onto her side. “I’ll be counting the minutes until then.”

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - In Which None of You Should be Surprised by a MAJOR Upset in the Standings

Sorry this is so late. I had a pretty epic series of delays landing me at NRT for like 18 hours or something ridiculous. To be fair there are much worse airports to be stranded at.

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

June 2024 Week 4

Ongoing Series - Thai

The Rebound (Weds Gaga) ep 1 of 12 - Fuck all ya'all if you thought I had taste. MeenPing are topping this damn list because... have you any idea how LONG I have been waiting for a real sports centered BL starring at least one boy who actually played the flipping sport? My whole damn life. You ready for me to go into euphoric splooges all over your screens? I don't think you are. SUFFER! And now some splooging:

It’s off to a great start. Thank you, Rebound, for being exactly what I wanted. By which I mean Meen has his shirt off literally in the first two minutes of the show. Also it’s a bit of a childhood sweethearts reunion romance. There’s nothing wrong with this beginning. Fantastic. For a change, I even enjoy the intro music. Golf is directing MeenPing this time, so maybe something magical will happen. Frank is aging so pretty!!! How nice for all of us. Even the bb play is good. It’s a proper sports BL. I’m so damn happy right now. 

Wandee Goodday (Sat YT) ep 9 of 12 - I’m so tired of Ter, but everything else was lovely. Also they are SUCH boyfriends. 

Sunset X Vibes (Sat iQIYI) ep 3 of 12 - They are so cute in these roles. I don’t know why, I just like their vibe better here than in the previous show. (And I really enjoyed Big Dragon at the start.) This show is a lot more classic romance and kind of pat because of that. I do hope the ingénue character gets some kind of additional development and talent. But even if it stays mundane, these two have the chemistry to carry it. So I suspect I’ll keep enjoying it regardless. I am mildly intrigued by the spice of the PNR element, so I hope they run with that a bit more. I suspect they will have to, to extend the plot for 12 eps.

My Stand-In (Fri iQIYI) ep 10 of 12 - Ah Ming... famous last words. This one just makes me sigh a lot and whimper sadly. I don’t know where they’re going with this plot or how they’re gonna resolve it. Joe finally being the asshole Ming deserves is a lot of fun though (double entendre intended). I’m scared but it did make me cry... a lot. (That's fine, I'm a sap.)  

Imma say this because no one else has. Wardrobe is unilaterally terrible in this show. I mean Thailand is notoriously bad in general but this show, nash.

We Are Cute (Weds iQIYI) ep 13 of 16 - They are so fucking adorable. And so flirty! Also a crying kiss? My favorite! Chain’s little moment of "Cupid shoot thyself" was epic. ("Physician heal thyself" but for the BL world?) Honestly, I could watch a whole show about these two...

The Trainee (Sun YouTube) ep 1 of 12 - How does Gun still look like he’s just out of high school? Madness. Does the set for the print shop that he’s working in at the beginning remind anybody else of Mork’s dad’s place in ‘Cause He’s My Boy? I swear GMMTV has about 3 sets they rotate through.

To be brutally honest, I was not looking forward to the show at all. No idea why. OffGun aren’t my most favorite OG pair, but I respect them for their longevity, optics, acting shops, and enduring brand. Maybe I just needed more of a gap from Cooking Crush?

Whatever, I was absolutely riveted by this first episode. I’m enjoying The Trainee a lot. Like, a lot a lot.

My Love Mix-Up Th (Fri YT) ep 4 of 12 - This version did the "clear up of the inciting miscommunication" in such a sweet achey way. Frankly that "ache of first love" really plays to G4's strengths as a pair. This was a good ep and I’m now starting to enjoy this one for its own sake and get some distance from the JBL version. It's just there is A LOT of good stuff coming out of Thailand right now.

Love Sea (Sun iQIYI) ep 3 of 10 - I was inspired to write a Shakespearean style sonnet in this week's trash watch. Mame seems to believe that no character can have depth without suffering. And I found this episode both boring and rushed at the same time. Trash watch here. (This week's trash watch also VERY delayed.)

Knock Knock Boys (Thurs Gaga) ep 6 of 12 - It’s eminently missable... so I missed it this week in order to get this weekly update out. Next week will be a two in one. 

Only Boo! (Sun YT) ep 12fin - Okay, that’s it, I guess?

Summary:

An idol romance about a sunshine boy who dances good and wants to be a star and a reserved food stand vendor. Other side of the tracks, grumpy/sunshine pair who fall in love but, of course, to be an idol baby boy can't date. It wasn’t particularly bad, it wasn’t particularly good either. 7/10

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) Ep 1 of 10 - A new series adaptation of beloved yaoi I Hear the Sunspot (first adaptation was feature film Silhouette of Your Voice 2017).

I expected the soundscapes in this one to be fantastic, but I didn’t expect the filming to be something special too. But it really is. I’m not gonna lie, I'm nervous about this show because I love the manga and was disappointed by the film, but we were off to a really good start. First names already? So cute. I love them.

Takara's Treasure AKA Takara No Vidro (Japan Mon Gaga) ep 1 of 10 - Shy awkward Taishin goes to a Tokyo university in order to reunite with Takara, a stranger who consoled him over the loss of a parrot the year prior. He finally gets a chance to express his gratitude but is given the cold shoulder. (My thoughts this weekend's round up)

I can't believe Japan is holding it down for the non Thai BL. I mean to say.... JAPAN!!! What alt reality are we living in? It being Japan, I'm scared of the ending.

It's airing but...

Blue Boys is still going on and I'm still enjoying it (despite the cheating) but I don't know when it drops or where it's going, so I will report in at the end. When they tell me it's ended.

The Last Time (Thai Fri YT?) - Convoluted story of loss and possible reincarnation or something. Can't find it.

OMG Vampire (Thai Sun ???) 10 eps - I've put the search on hold for and y'all can let me know if it's worth tracking down once it ends?

In case you missed it

The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer released to Korean theaters 5/25. HoTae & DongHee, side couple from Unintentional Love Story are back! Same actors, same character names. I love them. Devastated this hasn't had international distribution. I demand you tell me the moment you find it!

Next Week Looks Like This:

NO IMG - we half way through this week already - sorry.

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

July Releases to Come

7/5 This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans (Thai iQIYI) - trailer here, The PittBabe team behind a new restaurant set BL full of hidden agendas and starring my new favorites SailubPon. Delightful!

7/10 Century of Love (Thai Gaga) 10 eps - trailer here, DaouOffroad are back, this time as fated mates in a quasi historical paranormal moment. San has spent many lifetimes waiting for his lost beloved, to reincarnate from her death a century ago. But if he fails to find her within this century's time window, he will succumb to a tragic death. And this time she's a boy. Very much Director Who Buys Me Dinner meets First Love Again, hopefully better than both. I love this pair and think they can handle the premise, it's whether the storytelling is up to the challenge. I'm curious to see but I have reservations.

7/26 4 Minutes (Thai Netflix or iQIYI?) - Great is a university student from Faculty of Business and the son of a wealthy business owner. Out of the blue, he gains the supernatural power to see four minutes into the future.

7/29 Battle of the Writers (Thai ????) - trailer here, TutorYim return and while I adore them, I really hope this is better than Middleman's Love. Won't be hard. However: that premise! Ugh. Something something authors fighting - save me. Why don't writers understand that nothing is more boring than writers?

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Defining @heretherebedork 's favorite endearment of "tiny idiot."

I love him. I also love what a class act they both were about this turn down. Thailand shows Korea how to handle a love triangle by NOT HAVING ONE.

Both We Are.

We stand a lap sit on this blog, but I think this is my first lap spin! I adored it! (Sunset X Vibes)

It's fun to watch them follow the original narrative but with these cute little Thai twists. Sometimes these are shifted for language reasons, sometimes for cultural, and sometimes I think just to draw a clear distinction from the JBL. I'm not mad about any of it. (My Love Mix Up)

Not just for you, honey. Truer words were never spoken. Yak is the biggest green flag ever to walk BL's verdant earth.

Linguistic corner!

I love this way of putting the translation. Usually, in Thai, the phrase used means "he's my happiness" (sounds like: kwamsook). To use sabai is different. Sabai more ubiquitous (sabai is one of the most commonly used phrases in Thailand) but also so different from the usual phrase we hear in ThBL at this moment. Thus, this execution is special, particularly from a doctor. I'm not quite sure how to put it but sabai can also be translated as feeling well, as in, not ill. So there is a way of looking at Wandee saying Yak is both his peace of mind and good for his health and well being.

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in it's infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.

There's these tricks, remember.

[faiell]

favour

for @drarrymicrofic, G, 900 words

Malfoy isn’t expecting anyone. He's hunched over his work with elbows like two knife points stabbed into the desk, one hand threading through his soft downy hair and the other fidgeting on his face, knuckle running back and forth against his bottom lip. The yellow light from his lamp flickers temperamentally, barely able to offer anything other than a glow on Malfoy's cheek. Malfoy squints at the cascade of parchment before him, then pushes his fingers against his eyes. He inhales, slow. Blinks his eyes back open, exhales.

Harry's been standing there a while. "Sorry to interrupt," he says.

Malfoy's mouth parts in surprise. It takes a moment before he registers that Harry is a very real thing, and not some conjured spectre. Then every part of him straightens into place. The papers flutter as he sweeps them back into their folders, snapping the covers shut—away from Harry's prying eyes, presumably.

"What are you doing here?" There's none of the usual bite to it, not when the small hours have got Malfoy whittled down like this. He looks feather-light, blurred to softness in the midnight blues and greys.

Harry approaches the desk and sets down his peace offering. It's Muggle coffee in a nondescript paper cup--Malfoy's favourite order from his favourite café, though he doesn't know it yet.

"My shift just started," he offers, which explains nothing at all. He sees Malfoy beginning to think through it, mouth and brow curving towards each other. "Picked this up for you on the way."

Malfoy’s expression of bafflement is delightfully wide-eyed. All of his usual mechanisms don't seem to be working. Harry keeps expecting a switch to flip, for Malfoy to shore up and retreat into icy waters, but it doesn't come. Instead his pale hands reach for the cup and cradle it, fingers skittering against the paper texture, thumbnail underlining the scrawl of 'Harry' on the side. The steam tickles his chin. With the coffee clutched close to him, Malfoy speaks, voice flaky and uncertain, "I can't accept this."

"Don't be daft," Harry insists. "It's two in the morning, take it."

Malfoy's frown grows deeper as he contemplates this additional fact. "There's nothing open this late."

It's true. Harry's kept that coffee under a stasis charm for twelve hours now. "I got it for Ron, but he's not in today," he amends, and gestures with the cup in his other hand, "Got myself one too."

Malfoy wants the coffee, craves it badly. Harry can see it in the way that he holds the warmth of it towards himself, shoulders drooping as he savours the rich chocolatey aroma. He's about to give into it, has brought the coffee all the way up to his mouth when he stops, eyes trained on Harry, glinting like burnished steel. "You must want something from me."

Harry shrugs, nonchalance teetering on his shoulder. He takes a sip of his own, lets it sit bittersweet on his tongue before swallowing it down. Malfoy's gaze slides from his mouth and catches on his throat, before it scuttles back to his own hands again.

"No, I don’t. You don't have to overthink it, Malfoy. It's just a favour."

The word holds more tension than it should. Harry knows Malfoy hates owing him, and that's why he's gone to all this trouble, cajoled him so carefully. He’s been at it for weeks now, first out of kindness, then out of spite, and now because…—well, because he’s tenacious, probably. The room slips into silence as Malfoy considers, until both of them become invisible and there’s just the coffee on the desk, lit up by weak lamplight. 

Harry’s so hopeful he forgets to breathe. His pulse climbs from his chest up to his head until it’s deafening. He’s sure he’s about to burst when, abruptly, Malfoy gives in with a little jerk of his shoulders, the scarcest of shrugs. He drinks. His lips wrap around the plastic and he tilts it back, slow and delicate, taking the shallowest sip.

Malfoy's eyes widen just a fraction when he recognizes the flavour of it. His tongue works inside his mouth as he rolls the taste around, once, twice, and again, just to be sure. A small, pleased sound comes out then, and before Harry can even register what that means, Malfoy brings the cup to his mouth again and takes three big gulps.

He sighs, eyes closed, contentment chasing away the shadows dragging at his face, and suddenly he’s years younger. There's cream on his upper lip. Harry is transfixed. The flickering lamp grows a bit brighter, buoyed by Malfoy's magic and finally illuminating the workstation properly, bathing his washed-out figure in warm hues.

"Well thanks," Malfoy says, smirking, because that's what he does instead of smiling. A pointed tongue darts out to catch some cream, missing most of it. "You should probably go, Potter. You don't even work on this floor."

[moonbaby26]

Title: The Best Laid Plans

(Chapter 18 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Chapter Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader, Doflamingo x Caesar Clown (implied), Smoker x Reader (referenced)

Chapter Warnings: language, reader is still going through it, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, manipulation, breeding kink, Doflamingo is a freak (as always)

Chapter Synopsis: The morning after your and Doflamingo’s public engagement and actual marriage, he’s already working towards what he wants from you next. And you begin learning a bit more about the family you’ve now been chained to. All while this news of your union begins affecting even those who want nothing to do with you.

Chapters: 1,  2,  3,  4,  5,  6,  7,  8,  9,  10,  11,  12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19

——————————

——————————

“I have to say…this is unusual, Caesar. Am I to feel like the pay I’ve already wired was insufficient this time? Or have you just had higher priorities this week outside of me?”

Caesar Clown was staring at that snail on the lab table in front of him, and the wholly disappointed edge behind every additional word.

Simply not answering Joker’s phone calls at any hour they might come had never been an option. Punk Hazard was far too close to Dressrosa for one thing. And Doflamingo’s warlord status allowed him impromptu visits whenever he’d wished on this otherwise restricted government island.

But even more important than that constant threat of his proximity, was the fact that Caesar wanted to answer when this man called for him.

Everything about Doflamingo intrigued him really. Every new test of his scientific skills that the pirate could offer him, every new payday, and every thrill of power by association that came along with it all.

Joker had a way about him that just couldn’t be refused, an equally dangerous and charismatic provider like no other.

And this conflict of emotion was only further proven in the way Caesar’s stomach twisted with fear, simultaneous to his face flushing with embarrassment as he tried to lie. “I just wanted this to be perfect for you, Joker. That’s all.” 

The truth and real reason for Caesar’s unexpected delay was something far different of course. A setback that the scientist had no idea how to yet articulate when it involved his favorite client so personally as this.

Because the flaw wasn’t in the new concoction itself that Caesar had already created. It was in the biology of the man who had commissioned it.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just needs to work as I instructed.” The other responded so flatly though, still unaware of what new knowledge Caesar was now hiding. “Did the news coos come by Punk Hazard yet this morning?” He asked almost conversationally next though.

“No.” Caesar was quick to answer a bit louder then, eager to divert to another subject if even briefly. “Why? Did something happen?”

The snail finally smiled a little there.

“I’m calling because I moved the timetable up again yesterday. At the colosseum in front of everyone actually. I can’t help it I guess. When I want something, I just take it.” Doflamingo answered far more smugly at that.

“Oh?” Caesar was twirling the phone cord between his fingers nervously now. He remembered well the urgency of their last conversation. Because Joker had obviously selected you as his broodmare of choice well before taking this public. 

And why not? 

The sheer vanity of the idea was appealing to Caesar as well. Taking a fiery, desirable woman and riding her into submission until she ultimately bore fruit. It sounded like a good time to him as well.

“It’s an official betrothal then?” Caesar could guess as much then.

The snail smirked again. “Yes, it went well. You should have heard the roaring of that crowd.”

But just when Caesar had started to feel the smallest bit of calm when Doflamingo had begun to further gloat, those words turned sharp again in an instant.

“So I want that serum in my hands by tomorrow night at latest, Caesar. I can’t wait any longer. Can you make that happen for me or not?”

Even when posed as a question, there was only ever one possible answer of course.

“Yes, Joker.”

The drug was already ready by Caesar’s standards. It’d force ovulation regardless of any contraceptive previously in your system. And it’d grant resilience in the fetus to the most common toxins, preventing either accidental or purposeful chemical abortion in at least the timeframe until it could be old enough to survive outside of your body anyway. Also with some other chemicals added to further the thickening of the uterine wall and amniotic sac for a bit more physical protection too.

Forced reproduction is what this plan truly was. But the devil always remained in the details.

Though confident as always in his own work, Caesar had still snuck what should have only been an uneventful peek into Vegapunk’s data from the currently unnamed warlord project as well.

All the warlords’ genomes and lineage factors had already been mapped out by Vegapunk. Made from clandestine samples taken from each warlord at the time of the signing of their government contracts in Mariejois.

So in only a single afternoon, Caesar had scoured through Doflamingo’s file. Just double checking for anything obvious. Any potentially debilitating mutations that could interfere in successful fertilization and healthy fetal development regardless of Caesar’s drug’s limited protections.

The scientist did not want to be blamed for a wild card like that after all.

But there, deep into those genetic markers, he had found something that was indeed a hard stop. Nothing that uncommon he guessed, but the absolute opposite of what this plan needed to be successful.

“Will…you be arriving here to pick up the product yourself then?” Caesar felt like those next words were coming out of his mouth on their own now. 

Joker was exponentially faster in the sky than any ship could hope to be on the water. It’d grant Caesar nearly a whole additional day of lab time if Doflamingo came here himself instead of having the drug shipped to Dressrosa.

It’d also give Caesar a chance to dose the pirate with something complimentary to that formula being given to you. Perhaps Doflamingo’s one breeding fault Caesar had found could be temporarily corrected here as well.

The snail paused. 

“You really need the extra time then…don’t you?” And there was a bit of new incredulousness in that tone that may have made Caesar proud in different circumstances.

Because he had never let Joker down prior to this moment. Thus the other’s natural surprise.

“It will be ready by then. I promise.” Caesar still tried to steady his voice.

He would do whatever he had to, to keep in the good graces of those beautifully deep pockets of course. Even if it meant degrading himself to finally ask for help from the last person he’d ever wish to as soon as this call would end.

“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow night.” Doflamingo’s voice eventually conceded to the new terms.

A rare mercy that further reinforced just how badly the Heavenly Demon must want this to happen with you.

“But no more extensions after this, Caesar.” He warned none the less.

“I understand, Joker. And it will be very good to see you again.” Caesar tried to throw on that additional subservience at the end at least, to finish on a good note so to speak.

Doflamingo did notice that difference in tone too. Because flattery was always appreciated, and a brief hint of flirtation even better. “Heh. I’ll be in a hurry. I can’t leave her alone for long. She just gets into trouble every time I do.”

“She does sound fun.” Caesar mused then, gladly sensing that returning deescalation which came with this bit of parting indulgence. 

“She is. But I’m not sharing this one.” The snail grinned fully then. “So fantasize in private. And don’t miss a deadline with me again, dear Caesar.”

The snail disconnected with a click at that as the scientist was left still recovering, here alone in his lab.

He shivered, this new stress so very real as it ate through him.

Caesar knew what he had to do. It was the only way to fix this in the remaining time window available now.

And Vegapunk would be all the more insufferable after this impromptu request for collaboration he was sure.

But sacrifices had to be made, with Caesar’s own ego included in those losses for just this once.

Because Joker would have what he wanted.

Always.

——————————

This meeting had been scheduled ages before now.

Crocodile’s request for official residency in Alabasta was to either be approved or denied today.

But his initial months of planning that should have had him walking into this room as the vessel of vengeance in the young princess’s tragic ransom attempt gone wrong, had been derailed in a single evening. 

Simply because you had to be in the wrong place at the right time.

Crocodile had always intended for his agents to kill Vivi. And then he would have killed them, dealing false justice and earning the full attention of Alabasta’s people.

King Cobra would then have had no choice, unable to publicly spurn the man who had captured and disposed of his precious daughter’s murderers.

And later, when the timing was fully right, Crocodile would have further pressed into that man’s paternal grief.

After getting all the information he’d need about the ancient weapon from the broken royal, it’d have been far too easy to then stage a suicide for Alabasta’s noble leader.

He’d have sewn the story of a father who just could never overcome the loss of his only child. 

And with the people’s favor by then, and Vivi already gone to leave no Nefertari heir to contend with, Crocodile would have been poised to take over this country in the power vacuum which would have followed.

But no.

Because of you, that little blue haired girl whose corpse should have long been sealed away in the Nefertari tomb was now standing before him and actually smiling instead.

She had apologized profusely to the king for not being able to wait a moment longer to share her news as she’d entered the palace dining area where Crocodile and her father had still been talking business.

The royal family’s guard zoans, Chaka and Pell stayed close, but also were losing their air of professionalism as they tried to look over the girl’s shoulder while she presented that brand new news coo delivery to the table.

“Father! Please, may I call and congratulate her!?” The girl was practically vibrating in this new excitement.

But Crocodile’s teeth were already clenching against his cigar.

Because even from across the table, of course he’d recognized that fucking bird’s high cheek bones and dark glasses on the front page.

Every last bit of his restraint was being tested as the tip of his hook punctured the smallest hole into the tabletop now. Catching there in that new imperfection as his jaw tightened further.

And Nefertari, a literal king, was sitting there all the while, marveling at these images and the hyperbolic words of Morgans’ that accompanied them while he turned through those pages.

“My, it says they have been courting one another for years even. How unusual…a pirate and a marine.” Cobra said aloud with some added incredulousness. But only then seeming to remember his own pirate guest at all. 

The almost sheepish look on the king’s face at that realization silently infuriated Crocodile all the more, before Cobra had the audacity to ask something even worse afterward.

“Besides being the ruler of Dressrosa, Doflamingo is also your colleague though. Are you close with him? Is this a surprise to you as well, Sir Crocodile?”

And it was also in the way that little girl’s bright eyes looked up to Crocodile with such anticipation for more details then. This insanity was beyond what the warlord could take.

Because it now surpassed all natural reason and probability the way that pink demon just kept ruining his life.

“Doflamingo does as he pleases. So I’m not surprised.” Crocodile’s deep voice somehow still managed rather noncommittally. His hand removing his cigar from his mouth then.

A tell they wouldn’t recognize. He was utterly seething. 

Because that fucking, feathered whore could never stop being this ridiculous and over the top in every single thing that he did.

And for what reasoning this time? There was always a play, a scheme, or a manipulation when it came to Doflamingo.

Nothing was ever genuine, nothing ever truly real.

That creature was a narcissist, a sociopath, a nymphomaniac, and any other random assortment of mental conditions he chose from his grab bag of collected neuroses on any given day.

“Father, please may I call her?” Yet Vivi started once more, not dissuaded in the least by Crocodile’s lackluster response.

“Yes, of course. But with Igaram to assist you. A call from you is an official contact from Alabasta and the Nefertari family after all…and this would essentially be us reaching out to the Donquixote royals as well now if you speak directly to her.”

And this realization somehow delighted the girl even further. “Oh…yes, you’re right! She’ll be a queen soon. Maybe we can even go to the next Reverie together!”

Cobra chuckled at this. “It’s certainly possible now, isn’t it?”

The girl wasted no time however, having now received her father’s permission as she hurried back out of the room to no doubt find Igaram and make that call.

Which did remind Crocodile of his own brief interaction with you too of course. When you rather rudely rejected his flowers and their very efficient poison.

But now he knew why Doflamingo had not immediately struck back in retaliation for that.

This public exhibitionism was that idiot’s response.

“My apologies for that interruption, Sir Crocodile.” Cobra had turned his head back to look at him again then once Vivi had left. “My daughter doesn’t have many friends outside of this palace any longer, now that her prior playmates have moved on to Yuba. And after that incident in Scylla, I believe she’s found quite a female role model in that marine captain.”

Cobra glanced at that print one more time and your pictures there with his sentiment, smiling warmly before he closed the newspaper.

“You know…” He started again not long after. “I think times are beginning to change in this world. I have to admit, when you first asked months ago for my public blessing to transition your Rain Dinners casino into a more permanent residence here in our country, it didn’t seem wise to me given your nature of remaining a pirate.”

Crocodile was still holding his cigar between his fingers then, outwardly concealing his full disgust as he did at least listen.

“But, the warlord program has clearly been working well for Dressrosa. By all accounts, they are thriving under your peer Doflamingo. He protects them. And now, I’d say they’re on their way to having a rather selfless queen as well. What she did for us in Scylla, I will never be able to fully repay her for.”

And even Crocodile’s expression shifted slightly there. Because he felt that change coming in Cobra with these next words.

“But I’m going to try to. So yes, I wasn’t going to approve your official residency and citizenship request at first. Even with you being a warlord, I suppose I still had learned misgivings about what powerful pirates can do to weaker targets. Yet, I’ve thought about these prior prejudices so much in the days since our experience in Scylla. And the way that captain has obviously deemed Doflamingo at least, as worthy of a second chance in life.”

Cobra even sighed a little there, taking a brief sip of the still warm tea that his servants had prepared earlier. “And you and I both know she will face some ridicule and shame for this choice regardless, being that her partner is also still a pirate. This wasn’t the only reason for my change of heart, mind you. But, I can’t deny that my desire to help her, especially now, will be a large part of my decision.”

The king smiled again there, but with a seriousness that still showed his understanding of the gravity of what he was conceding. “So I do grant your request to stay in Alabasta, Sir Crocodile. Partly for your agreed protection of our coasts of course, as I realize more than ever, the enemies we still have in this world. But also because I want to show that men even with histories like yours and Doflamingo’s can be offered these mercies later in life if earned. We will stand with Dressrosa in this regard. I will publicly support her choice of allying with a warlord, by doing much the same here in Alabasta.”

Crocodile’s stare was wider then. His breathing had paused.

Nothing was ever supposed to truly surprise him. And his hand returned that cigar to his mouth as he forced a smile.

The fucking audacity of this all still had his blood running so hot. His heart was pounding with hidden rage. But even Crocodile’s pride couldn’t surpass his sheer ambition any longer. He knew goddamn well what this meant for him in the end.

This new way into Nefertari Cobra’s confidence and the secrets of this kingdom now came with the ungodly price tag of warming back up to the Donquixote family.

“A sound decision, your highness.” Crocodile drawled through an exhale of cigar smoke though. “I can certainly protect this kingdom just as well as Dressrosa has been taken care of as you said. But even more so, this feels a bit like providence doesn’t it? Why, with your daughter being saved by such dear friends of mine…”

Vomit would have been far more pleasant to roll out over his tongue than those words.

But Doflamingo could be baited and used in a heartbeat. He’d come here with you in tow without question if invited. Crocodile knew this. Just like the card games at his casino, as soon as one hand had folded, another had been dealt to him.

His false smile remained. “In fact, if you truly wish to put your support for that soon to be Dressrosan queen front and center in the public eye, why not ask her to visit here? An engagement party of sorts? As further reward for her sacrifices to your family of course...”

And now it was Cobra’s turn to look surprised, though not at all unwilling for this new idea. “Oh, Vivi would love that.”

“As would your subjects.” Crocodile agreed.

And he did see Cobra glance briefly back up to Chaka and Pell who were still observing this conversation hesitantly as his bodyguards.

“It has been ages since we’ve had a proper ball…” Cobra mused.

The two zoan users looked at one another, but their king didn’t give them any real chance to respond.

It was clear that this thought had rooted in his mind. “Notify Igaram please. We’ll go over the details together, and I’ll let Vivi offer the official invitation once decided.”

Yet it already was decided, wasn’t it? Crocodile saw that. Just as clearly as he dreaded what a reversal of his own word this would be. He had sworn to never work with that bird again.

But using someone wasn’t the same as working with them. Or even denying the full blown hatred that remained for them, now was it?

Crocodile would still tear through each and every one of you without a second’s hesitation if Pluton could finally be his. And then, all these days in hell would be but a distant memory.

Temporary tortures endured by him for the achievement of his broader goals.

And torture would be the proper word for what would be coming. Because he could envision that freakishly long tongue slipping out from behind those bright white teeth even now.

Doflamingo would be elated. 

And Crocodile only had you to blame.

—————————— 

There’d been another note on the nightstand when you’d woken in Doflamingo’s bed in the morning sun. Just like that time on his ship on the way here from Scylla.

That beautiful handwriting that still seemed so disconnected from the ruthless individual who had penned it now stared up at you once more from clean, white paper. 

The curves and flourishes almost looked like they could move, flowing as your eyes narrowed with your now splitting headache, sitting up alone in the bed to read it.

“Good morning, my drunken wife. Though if you can read this, then congratulations. You’ve rejoined the living.

I doubt you’d be in the mood for more pain medication after the last time. But all you need do is ask and I’ll still provide. There’s no reason for you to suffer needlessly. Unless you just enjoy it of course.

I tasked Baby 5 with watching the door out in my suite for you. No unexpected visitors this time. I had some very time sensitive calls to make however, or else I’d still gladly be tangled up beside you. But I’ll check in on you soon.

Yours,

-D.D.”

You closed your eyes briefly then, trying to focus enough to not want to scream.

The haze of yesterday and last night could have been easily dismissed as only a fever dream.

If not for the reality of the diamond ring still around your finger. The only thing you were wearing actually besides a pained scowl as you opened your eyes again and left the bed. Dehydrated as usual and wishing for any semblance of relief.

Even now, you had the instinct that you weren’t supposed to be exploring Doflamingo’s private chambers without him.

Probably why he’d given you your own room to begin with. A safer holding cell for when he was away, before you and Trebol had immediately destroyed it anyway.

But fuck it. 

You were thirsty and still such a mess from last night as you crossed the bedroom.

And soon enough you found yourself standing alone in Doflamingo’s massive bathroom. With the centuries old mosaics and stonework that conflicted with his far brighter, modern tastes. 

It wasn’t your first time being here. But without him even lurking just beyond the door to wait for you, it felt entirely different.

You did your business, relieving yourself and flushing the toilet before standing again. Your bare feet then met his tacky pink rug as you pressed up against the marble sink. The floral scents of his cologne bottles lined up on the counter only messed with your overtaxed senses further.

You turned on the water, washing your hands with one of his fancy soaps, and rinsing them well before cupping your hands under that stream to bring the cool relief to your face.

And you drank it afterward as well. Because to hell with his weird freakout about this very thing back at the villa. You drank that water several times in fact, refilling the makeshift bowl that was then your cupped hands pressed together.

But as you did turn the water off and straightened back up, you caught your own movement out the corner of your eye.

In that floor to ceiling mirror that was well big enough for even Doflamingo to fully admire himself in the nude.

And you’d seen him do it. One too many lingering glances towards his own image in that reflective glass after showering.

But all you saw now was nothing near as flawless as him as you made that same mistake of also looking for too long. 

Into your tired, pained eyes. And over all the bruises now transitioning through every sequence of unnatural colors, while the trapped blood tried to dissolve for days at a time beneath your skin.

The shape of Doflamingo’s foot sole was still centered prominently over your sternum from that battle in the other bathroom as well. His love bites also along your shoulders and one deep enough to actually have thickly scabbed over on one of your hips.

You weren’t always quick enough with your armament when you were supposed to be experiencing pleasure. He’d kiss and lick you, bringing you nearly to orgasm, and then nail you with a real bite sometimes. 

It furthered his arousal at the complete loss of your own in moments like that.

And you didn’t want to see this anymore. 

Not right now.

You turned and stalked out of the bathroom before that disgust in yourself could fully take hold again. Before you could shatter that mirror and even the ancient stone behind it with your clenched fist.

Your luggage was just set against a wall in his bedroom when you came back to it. Like it didn’t belong here at all as you spitefully dug through it.

You put on your usual underwear, but with sweatpants over them this time. That and an old, long sleeve shirt as a top.

It was throw away shit, only fit for laying alone in a ship’s bunk late at night. But you were purposefully covering everything but your face, feet, and hands with it now.

You didn’t know what your plan even was anymore. You didn’t have one as you cracked open that tall bedroom door to exit into the hallway that led to the rest of the king’s suite.

And even with the warning of Doflamingo’s letter, you’d still paused at seeing Baby 5’s back while she stood silently at the window she’d apparently opened in the main sitting room.

She was staring out, not yet noticing you at all.

You’d considered still making a purposeful sound though. To spare you both the inevitable bad reaction of surprising her. You weren’t in the mood of dealing with that. But then you’d noticed the small cloud which rose up as she exhaled.

And something else still inside of you immediately reacted instead.

You didn’t know why. Because it wasn’t as if she was anyone you could actually help.

You couldn’t even help yourself in this place.

“And just how old are you to be doing that!?” You snapped at her regardless.

The girl made a frightened noise of course, eyes wide as she looked back over her shoulder with that lit cigarette still sticking out from between her lips.

Her hands went together in a begging gesture almost simultaneously too as her whole body then turned to face you in the realization of being caught. “He said you’d still be asleep! Please! Please don’t tell the Young Master!”

And her higher pitched plea was like a knife through your still throbbing head.

But you just couldn’t imagine why Doflamingo would care either. He’d thrown his child soldiers out into battle without hesitation for years. Why would any additional lung damage ever matter?

“What would he care?” You asked along with that thought as you approached. But your displeasure must have still been clear even as she didn’t answer.

One more look at you and she’d tossed that still lit cigarette right out of the open window rather than argue.

But that still wasn’t enough. Not for you. “Give it to me.” Your eyes narrowed at her anyway as you held your hand out tiredly, so close to her then.

“What?” She asked defensively, starting to back away.

“The pack, kid. Because you never answered me. What are you, fifteen?”

“Sixteen.” She looked at you with such indignity there, her defiance trying to return.

“Yeah, no damn difference.” But you saw the top of that small box sticking out of a pocket on the apron you hoped they didn’t make her wear. And you snatched the pack right from her, then and there.

“Hey!” She protested, exacerbating your headache yet again with the shrillness of her upset voice. 

Your head was hurting enough that you made your own choice next. You were already over this hangover pain. You needed to feel, taste, or do something different. Anything.

Baby 5 had paused as you opened the confiscated box just as smoothly and removed a single cigarette from it. 

It’s not like you’d ever said you were entirely fair either.

“Chill out. You owe me one for all your yelling anyway.” You sighed. “So give me a light, and I’ll at least let you keep the lighter.” You told her as you brought that fresh cigarette up to your own lips.

“You smoke?” She asked incredulously.

“No. Well, not cigarettes. Cigars…sometimes. I just-” But you realized that was far too honest for this moment. And you walked that comment back quickly. “No. I don’t smoke. Just light it already.“

It was not at all your desire to remind yourself of Smoker or anyone else right now. Of course he’d taught you how. Of course he’d let you try his, and thought it hot whenever you’d held one cigar between your fingers and the other between your teeth, breathing deeply for him while his own mouth had went to work much farther down your body.

You’d had your fun together. And it had meant something, at least to you. Those memories wouldn’t be erased just because Doflamingo said they should.

Yesterday, he’d told the papers you had no exes.

That it had always been him for as long as you’d been old enough to be with a man. That’s what that new timeframe meant, and you were sure he knew that.

He’d told them you’d been fucking a pirate since you’d even known how to fuck.

Baby 5 still stared at you, but she listened to your command regardless as she got the lighter from her other pocket. Likely just in that habit of her always being told what to do around here. 

You bent down enough for her to light the cigarette as you inhaled slightly to get the burn going.

And you did cough a couple of times, that shitty taste one you probably should have long forgotten when you’d first tried and ultimately rejected these years ago as a chore girl.

Baby 5 watched that too, almost entranced for a moment before your hand suddenly moved and you tossed that nearly full pack of her remaining cigarettes right out of the window as well.

“Ah! Why!?” She yelled again, as if you’d wounded her physically that time. While her gaze followed the tumble of the box and its fall multiple stories down until it was out of sight. 

“Because you don’t need it.” You grumbled, even with the utmost hypocrisy of taking yet another drag as you said so. 

“And neither do you.”

Both you and the girl straightened up then, looking to the open archway that connected back to the rest of the royal suite. 

Doflamingo’s long frame darkened it, slouched in that odd way of his with his hands in his pockets as he surveyed this new scene.

Yes, you were also starting to lose count of just how many times he’d now silently entered his own rooms to catch you off guard.

He must do it on purpose.

“Young Master! I didn’t do anything! I didn’t-” The teen tried.

“Out, Baby 5.” The warlord answered. Oddly calm, but non negotiable to his subordinate all the same.

And she didn’t have to be told twice. She slinked past him immediately, head down and fully submissive as she quickly exited.

Leaving you and Doflamingo then staring at one another with that burning cigarette still between your lips.

Your senses were still jumbled. You couldn’t yet feel his intent. And that worried you.

But it was a somewhat good sign when he did take off his glasses, propping them into his hair as usual when the two of you were alone. Though he still watched you sharply through his good eye.

“You love to test me…don’t you?” He said, straightening his tall posture as he moved closer. 

And you held your ground, even when seeing his focus move critically back to that burning cigarette. “I’m having a rough morning. I just wanted a distraction.” You exhaled as you spoke.

But he was so close already then, bending down to grin at you as he inhaled that smoky exhale of yours right into his own lungs.

“And I hate the smell of your ‘distraction’, love…because it lingers. I’ve told them all so many times. Anywhere else they want, just not in my private rooms.”

Yet you remained still as Doflamingo’s hand exited his pocket to so purposefully come up towards your face. His long fingers ran along your cheek softly, just before he plucked that cigarette right from your unsuspecting mouth in one harsh motion. 

Like yanking a weed out of a garden.

At least that’s what his brief glare seemed to say. That he was correcting you, just before his hungry lips covered where that cigarette had been. 

And you didn’t stop him. He’d even made a wanting noise soon enough, one that sounded fully involuntary with his tongue seeking deeper entrance as you parted your lips for him. 

His legs were bent as he tasted you and the remnants of that smoke, again and again actually.

And when he was done, you heard his harsher breathing just from that bit of intimacy. There was a reluctance in him even then as you saw that needful look briefly flicker through his eyes.

His other hand had now taken yours though while he began to lead you away from the window.

But not before he put that cigarette he’d abruptly taken from you into his own mouth.

“We are not making a habit of this. Do you understand?” He chided you again.

And of course you were staring, watching him smoke for the first time you’d ever seen.

He noticed your bit of awe too.

That taunting air of his resurfaced easily. “What? I’ve tried it all. Everything at least once. And many things several times more.” He didn’t even cough as you had, like he was proving that point. His lungs clearly didn’t care about this fresh assault.

“But like I said…” His lips downturned then as the humor left as quick as it had come. “I’ll never tolerate this specific smell on my things again.”

And you were now one of those “things” to him you were sure. With the further squeezing of his large hand around your smaller one just reiterating this idea, before he took and tossed that last cigarette out of the window as well to walk on with you.

“It actually takes years to fade you know.” He added even more seriously, not looking back at you anymore then.

He was pulling you now.

“Doffy…” It was obvious you didn’t have the will to resist him today. But he was already leading you both back towards the bedroom, which felt fully ridiculous and unwanted for you in this moment

Because he’d had all he wanted last night. You’d been a little drunk doll for hours, positioned this way and that to do whatever he pleased.

And Kizaru had caught you redhanded only to worsen it exponentially.

That pain of true humiliation went through you again as you did force yourself to speak, even when Doflamingo hadn’t acknowledged your prior plea of his name. 

You at least wanted some kind of update on the real status of your life before he’d just toss you on that bed again.

“Did anyone call from the marines yet this morning? Did the news coos come?” You knew it sounded like begging. Were you demoted? Discharged? Were you being called a traitor? How bad was it?

But he still didn’t look at you. And his voice sounded so odd when it did finally come.

“Your priorities need rearranging, little bird.”

His hand loosened slightly. But just enough for his fingers to move against that engagement ring you’d still never taken off.

You glanced down, feeling him briefly turning that band.

And then the two of you had passed the bed. You were standing before another large door as he pushed it open and pulled you through it. 

You went quiet, confused and surprised again as Doflamingo drug you into his closet without any further explanation.

Of course the simple description of “closet” was not near good enough either. Because it was a whole room of its own. Much bigger than even the one that was still supposedly yours in the other bedroom.

And Doflamingo did finally let go of your hand as he walked to the back of this space. 

He was looking for something while you stayed near the front, staring at the racks of clothing rather helplessly. His coats, suits, shirts, and more in just row after expensive row. 

Some garments were embroidered, some had real gold adornments and other precious stones. Everything was here. All the way from the gaudiest, neon colored capris pants you’d ever seen, to floor length furs and ceremonial uniforms truly befitting a Dressrosan king.

Your head tilted back a little too, then looking up as the glimmer of a literal crown and scepter sitting on a shelf above you caught your eye. They looked carelessly set aside, as if they were as unremarkable as an old pair of shoes to him before you heard him speak again.

“Come here.”

He’d been digging in the back corner, pushing away more of his suits that you’d never seen him wear in order to get to something.

And you had to trek across this  “closet” just to reach him.

But you stood there once you had, already uncomfortable before he shoved something large and black right in front of you. 

Your body reacted as if it were some sort of animal carcass, you taking a reflexive step back when those feathers shook all at once from his movement.

Doflamingo was holding the coat at the level of his waist then, and only had to extend his arms to follow you with it as you tried to move away.

“No. Smell it. And then tell me if you still think I’m full of shit.” He sounded irritated again for a moment there, as if he didn’t want to be holding this either for any longer than he had to be.

Of course the reasoning of this harsh new order made no sense to you at all. You just wanted to tell him to fuck off actually when this new weirdness began.

Yet you still felt like the biggest freak too as you were forced to let those black feathers graze your face anyway when he pressed it even closer instead and you finally inhaled.

It wasn’t strong, but it was definitely there.

“Cigarette smoke.” You confirmed, but still looking at him as if he was being insane again.

As usual.

But Doflamingo scoffed at your expression, just before doing the same to strangely smell that coat as well when he briefly brought it up to his face.

“This raggedy thing is almost six years old.” He said, somewhat quieter then. And he lowered it again after. But was still clutching the coat in one hand, as he watched you intently once more.

His glasses were still perched in his hair. And you saw a different look in that moment, just the slightest warning before he swept that black coat around to hang it over your shoulders. 

You tensed. And it was awkward and heavy, but no real difference to the pink ones he wore every day that you could tell.

But you said nothing in your obvious confusion. You only stood there, uncomfortably silent and waiting for the next touch, the next nonsensical action from him.

Yet Doflamingo was only staring at you for a few more moments, taking this all in like it meant something far different for him. 

Your eyes flitted to his hand, cautious of everything again now as he’d moved it to once more touch your face.

“He’d really hate this.” Doflamingo muttered as he grazed his knuckles softly down your cheek. “He was always so adamant about me letting you go.”

Your head was still aching horribly, surely interfering with your own powers of reasoning. But your heart only began to beat faster as his hand then moved down onto your shoulder next.

He was neatening the feathers there. But some were missing. As if they’d been singed and burnt away actually, you finally realized.

“Marine code zero, one, seven, four, six…” Doflamingo added from nowhere as your breath did stop.

“That’s not my code.” Your mouth and brain shot off reflexively then. All of you were trained to give your marine identification number when captured. To say it over and over if you had to under potential torture, rather than giving anything sensitive away that could hurt your crewmates. “My code is-”

“I know.” Doflamingo’s face was tense. His eyes met yours again.

And that all new dread sank into your chest as he did.

“That was his code. My baby brother…my Corazon.”

Your eyes widened as the full adrenaline began. 

In so many instances already there’d been these strange moments and the offhand comments about his blood family. All dead, all so seemingly triggering to him to ever speak of.

And you weren’t stupid. You were perceptive. But when every day and every night had you always still racing through the gauntlet of your own survival, it never allowed you the time to put any of these pieces together.

So he’d just thrown it right on top of you instead.

A dead man’s coat, now heavy in every meaning of the word as it hung across your already vulnerable frame.

“Rosinante…was a marine?” Your quiet voice both asked and confirmed at once. Because the silence was worse. And you didn’t dare look away from this pirate now.

“Yes.” Doflamingo answered directly that time. His long fingers still moving idly though, now nearer your breast, separating the individual feathers where this garment had evidently been crumpled against other things for years now.

He was actually preening you.

“This is just one of the coats he burned and left behind. I was always wasting money buying him new clothes. He could never take care of anything for long.”

Even with the almost neutral expression on Doflamingo’s face then, you still picked up on that real distaste in his tone. A true danger that made you try to force all of your energy away from your hangover and back to your very limited observation haki now.

You needed to focus.

This was no game anymore.

“I didn’t know.” You said in full honesty.

Doflamingo’s fingers paused too, his eyes moving back to your face with renewed skepticism that would have made a lesser soul cower.

“You really never met him?” He asked so plainly though.

“No.” You told the truth again.

The warlord scowled a bit.

“Well, I always talked to him about you.”

And you knew he saw that hint of surprise on your face again there that you couldn’t hide.

His eyes narrowed a little more in response to it. “You think I lie about everything, don’t you? I was telling the truth when I told the crowd I always wanted you. You had my attention years ago.”

That hand that had been neatening the feathers at your chest now moved all the way down to your hip as Doflamingo abruptly squatted onto his haunches in front of you.

His touch slipped so easily beneath the bottom of your shirt as he began to rub the skin of your waist. 

“I told my brother that you’d be mine. But he was too weak to last long enough to see it.” Doflamingo’s grip tightened a little more, holding you firmly by your waistline now, skin to skin. “Do you understand what I’m telling you, (Y/N)? He hid from me. He lied to me. He hurt me.”

“He was undercover.” You said in something not far above a whisper then. Acknowledging the true scope of what was now being revealed to you.

And Doflamingo’s eyes finally looked bothered. He was watching that growing upset in your own.

“You were there that night too. With Tsuru…weren’t you?” Doflamingo asked you. And you felt the warmth of his body as he moved in even closer, still squatted down before you.

“Minion Island? Yes…I was there.” You responded as he leaned his head against you so unexpectedly.

He wanted you to touch him in return as he still held your waist.

And you did reach up, the black coat shifting as your hand moved softly around the back of Doflamingo’s neck.

It took everything in you to keep your hand from trembling.

“He left me no choice.” Doflamingo breathed just as your grip met his skin.

The primal chill that went through to your very bones was linked only to the way his eyes had changed again then. No trace of remorse as he said these words to you.

And Doflamingo simply shifted, wanting you to rub him further.

So you began stroking the back of his neck as you felt his face briefly nuzzle you. Partly against your own clothes, partly against those black feathers of his dead brother as he now chuckled.

A sickening sound.

“He took everything I had left. My heart…my trust.”

But it wasn’t sad or mournful. That tone felt like loathing even as Doflamingo’s hand moved again beneath your shirt, his large palm splaying low onto your abdomen.

“And I want it back.” He reaffirmed.

He thought he was the only victim here.

He thought he was owed whatever he wished to take because of the things he’d already lost.

You felt his fingernails beginning to press soon after. Like a claw digging into you with that renewed show of possession.

His teeth were bared again.

“I want it from you.” His voice was so low then, this demon of a man practically sitting on the floor now as he pushed your shirt further up.

“Give it back to me.”

You felt his lips against your stomach next, just before he whispered once more.

“Bear me my new Corazon.” 

———————————

    T⨂  BE 

CONTINUED

———————————

Thanks for reading!

[fountainpenguin]

Went down a very specific research pipeline last night, and now you get to share it with me:

Does Dev have hypoglycemia?

Low levels of blood sugar that - when they drop - can lead to irritability, confusion, headaches, exhaustion, shaking, rapid heartbeat, blurry vision, passing out, seizures, or even death. Blood sugar can drop about 2 to 4 hours after eating; snacks and additional small meals are very needed; sugary foods like hard or gummy candies can give a quick boost, as can juice or soda. I'm continuing my research after this post, so please forgive/inform me if I've mixed up details between different types of hypoglycemia- or just got something totally wrong.

FOP: A New Wish is set in modern times (i.e. not the far future). He's allowed to have drones in the classroom with him- They're acknowledged as his assistants and the teachers know about them.

Potentially, they may function under similar rules to service dogs- another sentient creature that would be allowed in class (ignoring that Dev is sometimes away from them, or that they went into the halls on their own in "28 Puddings Later").

We know Dev is self-reliant enough to get by without his au pairs. They help him, but they're not something he needs 24/7.

Insert joke about the au pairs needing off-duty time like service dogs and sometimes they just go play. Union rules...

We know they have the capability to "alert on Dev" like service dogs... or at least, this one looked at Dev and beeped when scanning a paper, and even projected an exclamation point to catch his eye:

The visual-verbal cue combo is definitely an intentional feature (And it's not like it greeted him by name- it just beeped and he knew what it was conveying).

We know that at the end of "Lost and Founder's Day," this au pair - despite being a machine - recognized Dev was sad (or at least low energy) and patted him on the head.

Au Pair: I would hug you, but I do not have human arms or warmth.

Earlier in this episode, we see the au pairs respond to people based on data they were being fed through sensors people were wearing on their wrists. Dev might have one here, though we know he was upset to find out his dad was using them to zap people and he's sad about his dad not loving him, so it's likely he's not wearing it.

This implies the au pairs don't have enough data about most people, but they DO have internal data about Dev. If not internal, they can read him well. We do know they're good at reading cues- They get embarrassed during the festival when they find out problems have been corrected before they got there and we didn't see the Dimmlets shock anyone to prompt the au pairs to acknowledge the situation changed. What does it say about the au pairs if they're implied to be Dale's creation and they see sad Dev and think "I should hug him."

The Off Puddin' brand of pudding is so desirable that the whole class became addicted; they had withdrawals when Hazel changed her "unlimited pudding" wish to be "pudding after we take our class picture" wish- Just like everyone else, Dev was one of the affected individuals and ate all the pudding he could get his hands on.

If the pudding is that delicious, it's interesting Dev kept some (even if this is a new batch from a different pudding day) and snacked on it in Fairy World... and didn't give into impulses to eat it some random day beforehand:

I guess we can't prove it's the same brand, but it's presumably the same model from "28 Puddings Later." I think it's the only item we know he brought to Fairy World beyond clothes and one au pair that he stands on. He doesn't even use his tablet in this episode (which he's normally glued to outside of school).

We can confirm Peri didn't poof this up for him (or at least, it's very unlikely since that would've been weeks ago). Dev eats this pudding after Irep ditches him to hang out with his dad- Extremely doubtful Dev got Irep's attention for his snack. Or Dale's, for that matter (if his dad brought some).

Canonically, the principal gives Dev lots of pudding because his dad made a "generous donation" to the school. It's possible he does this often since we know Dev hoards pudding every pudding day...

... which is interesting, because in "Stanky Danky," the news describes Dale as "billionaire non-philanthropist." Investing in his child's future for the sake of good education doesn't seem to be his M.O.... although he does send Dev to a private school, so maybe.

We know Dale hates losing money, and we know he's not the best dad to Dev... but we also know Dev has an official allergy card that names him in 3rd person-

- which could imply he got this card when he was young. That's not guaranteed, but I looked at some IRL cards and some use first-person, so it's food for thought.

Possibly, his dad even took him to the doctor for official diagnosis. Lactose intolerance can be hereditary, so if Dale has it, he may have identified it immediately after Dev's first reaction. For all Dale’s faults, Dev IS still alive and not starving to death - and still lives with his dad - so it's not improbable Dale's aware of his son's food needs. On a darker note... given Dale's abusive childhood, I feel like lack of food is something he has trauma around. Also, if Dale is lactose intolerant, I'd be curious to know how Dev found out he was, as I'd assume Dale wouldn't keep dairy in the house if he can't eat it. The two logical options here are "Dale took him for an allergy test" or "Dev ate dairy outside the house and got sick, so he told his dad / the au pairs." Maybe he found out in preschool?

Dev's au pair bringing him a snack! Their boy needs to eat!

Anyway, this was all leading up to these screenshots of Dev having no fun on the walk to Signal Hill that I found funny:

No energy... need sugar... Exercise did a number on him... Hazel takes a breather by crouching for a second, but Dev just slams his face in the grass and I think that's great.

Despite Dev not liking to walk, he and Hazel stopped their treasure hunt before the final clue and walked back to the Dimmadome place for food, so that's neat to think about (especially in the context of him snacking before he left the house... How long were they out? Did he even finish his snack?)

Dev's au pair was preemptively wearing a chef's hat when he and Hazel came back to the house, so I wonder if that's his routine lunch time on weekends. The au pairs are good caretakers who know their boy's schedule and needs...

Immediately after this scene, Dale asks what Dev and Hazel are up to "this fine afternoon," so it's probably after 1 pm. Noon at the earliest, but surely not an early lunch at 11 AM. Interesting consideration for the timing of Dev's snack... It makes sense if he was out with Hazel for 2 to 4 hours before he had to go home and eat, even though they were on the final riddle.

Come to think of it, one of the things we know about Dev's house is that there's a cereal bar and Peri brings him cereal... and the woozy Peri hallucinating about bringing Dev "his favorite cereal" (during the finale) seems to get to him one way or another.

Consider... Cosmo and Wanda poofed up hard candy when Peri came over because Dev needed sugar I DID wonder what they were up to considering sugar gets Fairies inebriated...

tl;dr - I like to think the reason on paper that Dev gets his au pairs in school is for medical reasons. They track his blood sugar and keep him from, y'know... going into a seizure or passing out. I can't imagine Dale would like that happening to his son at home either (if for no other reason than because it would be a huge distraction he has to deal with).

If this is something Dev's been dealing with since he was little, that plays into the au pairs accompanying him through his early years... We know he's both lactose intolerant and extremely picky, not liking any of the cupcakes Peri poofed up despite this many attempts:

- which I cannot imagine Dale had the patience to deal with long if he was Dev's primary caretaker in his earliest years.

I was gonna make a joke about Dale hiring someone to watch Dev - and let's be real; he probably did - but also... do you think this cocky guy would spend money when "It's a baby; how hard can it be? I also eat daily- This is just efficient use of my time!"

POV: Tired single dad who's not yet finalized his au pair design walks into grocery store with baby, buys cupcakes, leaves. Confuses every parent in the parking lot when he has a fussy Dev sitting on the back of the car and he's spoonfeeding him icing. They did not go home. Next stop will be the park, where Dale falls asleep on a bench while Dev eats bugs. Some parent sees Dev eating a chocolate bar and strikes up a conversation with Dale about what a big moment it was when they treated their child to chocolate and Dale's just like "I've been feeding him that his entire life." Dale pouring a soda in his toddler's sippy cup: Don't judge me.

At a certain point, when you're a billionaire single dad running multiple businesses and you're good at robotics, there comes a time when "It would make things easier if my young child (who's a very picky eater and can't have dairy) had a drone to follow him around, alert him when his blood sugar is about to drop, or assist if he passes out" makes a lot of sense. Especially if you have major trust issues from abuse and prefer relying on your own inventions.

It was a very relieving day for Dale when he finally had a reliable au pair to leave his son with, I'm sure. Didn't accidentally kill his son!! #Not as big a jerk as you could've been!

During my original liveblog for "Battle of the Dimmsonian," I was confused about Dev going from "I need to talk to Hazel" to trying to spook her and her friends by summoning ghosts. I'm definitely not excusing his bitter attitude in general as a hypoglycemia thing, but this is an episode that would make this headcanon funny:

Peri, internally: Listen here, you little brat- I've read your file. Now eat your freakin' cupcake. Icing is good for you. Dev: These are terrible >:( I'll go without. Peri: WHY? Dev later that day: If I tell Peri I need sugar, he'll be SUCH a pain about it. I opt to suffer...

Anyway, I think it's interesting and I'm going the "au pairs help Dev with a lot of things, but one of them is hypoglycemia" direction in my City Lights AU :)

If anyone's curious, I'm doing growth hormone deficiency that also lands him with a weak immune system- another thing the au pairs help him with. My full character profile for Dev will go into extra details about his life... Fun times.

Dale, planting his whiny and sick child on the floor by his desk and handing him a tablet, juice, and a bunch of hard candy: Big Boss has a work meeting. Don't go outside or you'll die. At this point, you're sunk costs and if I lose you, I'm gonna make it everyone's problem.

Bonus Theory:

Are Doug and Dale also lactose intolerant, and did Dale kill his dad's cows?

In Season 5 - "Mooooving Day" - Doug runs a business called Dimmadome Farms, which produces extreme amounts of milk from genetically modified cows. He uses this to keep the population of Dimmadome Acres totally happy and obedient.

Doug seems convinced the milk makes people happy and that it's a good thing, but he doesn't personally drink it. It's kind of funny to think he went the route of milk because his family is full of lactose intolerant individuals who won't accidentally drink it.

Genetics - Lactose intolerance is inherited in the autosomal recessive pattern- This means either both of Dev's parents are lactose intolerant, or they personally aren't but carry the gene.

Additionally, Dev will only pass lactose intolerance to his kids if his partner also has the gene- either intolerant or a carrier.

There's a chance Dev developed it without genetics, but it looks like there's a lot more variety there than I can cover in a single post. From what I've read, it's "uncommon in babies and young children." He's 9 when "Peace of Pizza" takes place, which might strengthen the argument that it's genetic in his family.

One of the businesses Dale lists as under his possession in "Lost and Founder's Day" is Dimm-'N-Out Burgers. Presumably this is a parallel of In-'N-Out Burger, which use beef patties. Notably, this is a business made up for A New Wish- It's never been portrayed as under Doug's ownership.

If Dimmadome Farms already existed in Dale's youth, it makes sense Dale would use the cows from there- You have to do something with the ones who aren't producing milk, so why not make money?

Technically, Dimmadome Acres was wiped out by magic, but it's possible Dimmadome Farms itself was outside premises of the suburban neighborhood, so maybe there were other cows.

We know by A New Wish, Dale has established himself as a tech mogul, but he probably wasn't one straight after being rescued from 7 years of abuse, which is heavily implied to have started when he was 9 (give or take). Consider:

Doug: I'm making drinks from a labor force of enslaved individuals I've trapped underground :) His son, who recently escaped a life of being forced to make drinks for 7 years underground: This is incredibly insensitive, actually.

Hey, there's something SUPER sus about Dale's underground lemonade stand abuse starting at age 9 when his dad's milk factory is also underground in a big trapdoor and relies on trapped people for labor... Do you think Vicky found the cows when she was a kid and lured Dale down there, but he was lactose intolerant and couldn't drink mind control milk, so she moved him somewhere else... I'm connecting the dots...

It's worrisome that Doug's instinctual response to Timmy saying he didn't want to drink milk was "What a baby," and then he jumps and corrects himself to "Aw, shucks"... What conspiracy am I uncovering... Doug, let me in- I just wanna talk about the home your son grew up in.

I mean, the alt theory is that Doug built his underground dairy farm and trapped people to work in it BECAUSE Dale told him where he'd been for the last 7 years and he went "Oh, that's brilliant!" and that's also terrible??

Anyway, Doug's thing is that he's constantly jumping from one business to the next, never staying consistent (beyond the beloved Dimmadome stadium).

Knowing how he's always go-go-go, it's very probable he'd get his son involved in business young. Maybe Dale started with a burger joint until the robotics work paid off! A spiteful direction for Dimmadome Farms indeed...

Me, having a sudden realization and looking up from my notes theorizing both Dev and Dale have OCD and ADHD, then glancing at my second monitor where I have references from "Moooving Day" of Doug's meticulously arranged town of pink houses and people wearing matching outfits:

... Ah.

[kentocalls]

umemiya hajime | captain an idea that wouldn't leave my head. vauge military!au, sfw.

it's no secret captain umemiya trains solo into the late hours of the night. why you thought he'd not be here is beyond reason. or maybe the pain medication. you're favoring your injured knee as you steady yourself, admiring your captain as he moves so effortlessly.

he's a close combat specialist, skill second to none.  joined the cause so young it makes you embarrassed to be just two years shy from his age. he's such a decorated thirty something captain and somehow you managed to level your skills to be recruited to his team.

vice captain hiragi  had warned you, captain umemiya does not take injuries lightly, don't do something reckless. the vice captain would always let you sneak off and start training after injury early. granted, he'd stick you on desk duty for a whole month as punishment but he never stopped you from working out.

in your spacing out, umemiya notices your lingering form near an incline bench press. with 55lbs loaded. he normally, wouldn't care if subordinates train late; understands the need to work off tension, especially  after an extensive extermination job. but you? the one his eyes undeniable glue to?

"what are you doing out of bed? shouldn't you be icing that knee and resting?" his voice stern, not the usual playful tone he keeps during daylight. putting away his training blade as he approaches you, body gracefully light despite the weight of his presence.

"some light, rehabilitation?" you smile, soft and sweet. that usually works on vice captain hiragi. 

"rehabilitation, already? not sure the doc put that in your chart for another 3-4 weeks."  he watches closely, looking for any evidence of discomfort, knowing full well your left knee hasn't been the same for a few weeks. and the last extermination job had you taking a nasty fall. no amount of stretching, massage or light runs are going to aide the recovery. 

captain umemiya reviewed your charts personally, the best thing to do is rest. you gotta go slow, take a break. all things hiragi told him you hate doing.  she's restless if she's not helpful, reckless if she has something to protect. and you did protect him after all. that nasty fall was his fault. what kind of captain is he?

you stumble when attempting to sit up from the bench press. the captain's eyebrows furrow, "really shouldn't be doing any of that."

"and what about you? thought it was lights out for everyone on base, captain." stay formal, it's so easy to slip and act like you're friends. captain umemiya has that charm about him, none of the military formality seems to last.

he puts his hands up, offering a grin and "touche."

"couldn't sleep so i thought i'd get extra taining in. don't think i'll be getting any rest tonight though."

"too much paperwork again?" concern etched on your face, you don't like when the captain stresses. especially on paperwork, you've been lucky enough to catch a sight of his pretty face wearing glasses, staring into 12pt font forms with a glare so deadly, it sends shivers down your back now. 

he exhales, looking you up and down, "again, you should be in bed, solider."

"what's on your mind captain?" 

the last extermination, the fact that he wasn't fast enough, he has to travel to HQ to report on the damage. and you. he'll be gone for seven days and knows your mandatory best rest won't happen.  he doesn't trust you to actually rest, without him to supervise you're going to push back into training and risk a worse injury. 

he already feels guilty for dragging you into the fight, your platoon was supposed to keep guard of the rear, not provide additional support. but the extermination priority escalated and you were the closet solider with the strongest rank. 

the attack, you tripping and being pelted with debris....well, it isn't a sight his mind seems to let go. 

"hey...this isn't your fault, captain." you point at your knee. "it's been creaking like an old rocking chair for weeks. it was going to flare up, i was bound to trip."

"i should've moved faster. you got hit and i couldn't do anything ot prevent it. i should've seen it coming." he wears guilt like an expensive, delicate coat. too careful to place it anywhere but on his own shoulders.

you see now why vice captain hiragi told you to be careful. it wasn't for your sake really, it's for your captain that dotes on everyone in the platoon. 

"we can't control the world captain. you used you best judgement in that moment, we completed the extermination and prevented damage to the city. please, this injury is not your fault. don't put that on yourself."

you see his jaw clench, frustration and exhaustion bleeding into his face. "but it is," his voice firmer, "i know when priorities escalate to wait for reinforcement, i lost my cool and we both...as was captain, it was my responsibility to protect you."

"we worked as a great team captain. we won."

but sweet, doting captain huffs and defaults. why is he having such a hard time brushing this off? you've had worse injuries and vice captain hiragi has never looked like this...almost ... sad.

he almost returns to his normal self, that soft gaze, eyes on your knee, "won't change the fact this happened on my watch..."

"no, the fault is actually mine, captain?" voice firm, a bit annoyed, why does he look at you like that?  "i could've been faster and better aware of my surroundings. i should've taken the first yers up on practicing."

"it's not your fault, you did your best and that's all i asked for. but--"

"if you say its your fault one more time captain, i will" you look for the most menacing object you can reach for, "throw this medicine ball at you." it's an empty threat, he'd probably dodge it easily.

he laughs, finally.  but that pit at the bottom of your stomach doesn't go away. it's been there for months. the way captain umemiya's eyes look at you... you've tried to deny it but it's different. you don't know if it's your adoration of him, the way he's completed so many successful exterminations, captured back land from the invaded monsters. he's so...different.

you shouldn't think of him like that. the way his lips are probably not the softest but against your own, maybe--

"if you push yourself too hard you'll run the risk of aggravating your knee. it'll take even longer to have you back on the field, i don't want that solider."  solider. he's putting distance between you two, isn't he? yeah, you definitely shouldn't think of him like that. 

you're genuinely sad as he removes and restocks the weight plates from the bench press. it's not fair how cute you look to umemiya, so he busies himself with cleaning up, anything to avoid looking at your face. he can play off his protective nature as looking out for the team and you, professionally. that this is for your benefit. has nothing to do with the overwhelming concern that is totally normal for a captain to have. "you gotta trust me on this one, its for your own good."

and yet, you always have your eyes on him, so keen about the tension he's holding, the way you know his eyes trail back to your bandaged knee with guilt. "captain?"

his beautiful velvet sleepy blue eyes meet yours, "hmm?"

"it's really....bothering you a lot? what happened?"

umemiya nods, hesitant to share the depths of guilt and dread he's stuffed down. seeing you fall and not get up, your teary face in the emergency medic facility... if he was strong enough, fast enough, smart enough....

your still unbalanced as you walk over ot him, the need to pull him out of his spiral stronger than remembering you're not friends nad he's your captain. don't touch him, don't speak informally. 

"i don't  blame you for this. nor does the platoon, nor HQ. and you got me outta there quick, you even yelled at a charge nurse to get me pain meds and held my hand when they moved the ligaments back into place. you were by my side the whole time, even though i know you hate hospitals. which makes you the absolute best captain, okay?  so thank you, i mean it. i'd follow you into any extermination captain umemiya."

your words of gratitude and loyalty lift some of the emotional baggage, his eyes searching yours, how do you have so much compassion, care and consideration for him? why? your willingness to stand with him after he got you hurt? 

and maybe he hasn't imagined your lingering glances, maybe the way your breath hitches when he's close isn't out of fear...maybe the way your eyes dart to his lips at the most inappropriate moments aren't in his head.  

"and you'll stay by my side, even after all this?" what is he saying, he's your captain!

your smile is that big goofy one you gave him the first day he met you, infectious. as you literally move to his side, he finds himself loosening the cage around his heart "lead the way captain!"

finally, you get to see captain umemiya's  pretty pretty grin, "oh no, that contagious smile." he chuckles.

"we're all gonna get infected! evacuate the base."  playful, silly, light.

"infect us all, hiragi deserves needs the positivity." 

you mock salute, "aye aye captain!" moving a bit too quickly and off balance. like umemiya  isn't going to point out how uneven your hips are, your gait is far more telling of the pain that your face tries to hide.  "get to bed."

"i will later, captain, promise."

"am i gonna have to throw you over my shoulder and haul your cute butt into bed?" what is he saying, why is he being so friendly.

you roll your eyes at him. HIM, your captain. oh you don't believe him do you? he starts to walk toward you. "could always carry you bridal style, make sure everyone see's me do it too. make a lesson for the whole platoon"

"i can walk back to the room just fine, captain." you are NOT blushing. maybe, it's the late hour, maybe it's all the feelings he's been hiding for weeks.

"oh i know," he's walking closer, "but i'd be doing you a disservice by not properly escorting you back to your room right? what kind of captain would i be then?"

"you don't have to carry me...holding my hand is enough." that. oh, isn't that a bit too...initiate? too close? he didn't expect you to suggest something so innocent and somehow more personal. 

ah, crap, you messed it up didn't you? the playful banter, you're not the best at reading things and your own feelings for captain umemiya have never been hidden well according to your platoon member suo. shit, you always do this, going one step too far ahead. captain umemiya is a sweet guy, talented, friendly, playful. h-

you both speak at the same time 

"sorry, i didn't--"

"sorry that...made me nervous."  he's scratching the back of his head, the tips of his ears dusty red.

huh? THE captain umemiya hajime  being nervous to hold your hand? you tilt your head in confusion. but he's...held in such high regard. shaken so many hands, held so many peoples hands... he takes out monsters for a living and somehow is nervous to...hold you hand? your brain does not understand how that is even mildly scary to him. 

umemiya watches your face, gosh you're so easy to read. he's always liked that about you. despite being a highly lauded military situation, you don't hide your confusion. "yeah, i know, the great captain umemiya hajime can exterminate a whole 20ft beast by himself but holding a cute girl's hand? scary."

what cute girl? what's he talking about? "you need, practice? i can help you practice. then you'll be ready to hold that cute girls hand." you reply so earnestly. if you can help him in anyway, you're going to do it. 

his eyes widen at your offer,  did you not catch the hint that the cute girl is you?  do you not realize, you're the only girl in the room? "you wanna practice, hand-holding?"  his tone is half bemused.

you hold your hand out, wiggling the fingers, "take it, practiceee, my hands are extra soft." what are you doing, what are you doing, be still your beating heart because clearly you've lost your god damn mind.

your hand is small as fuck compared to his, umemiya eyes the outstretched hand with consideration. he's actually going to do this, with you?  

he's held so many hands in his life, and yet none jolt through him like this. like you're plugged into a 14V battery. 

"see, nothing to be nervous about." you give his hand a light squeeze. "that cute girl is gonna be so swooning over you in no time captain!"

you're the cute girl stupid, he wants to say. totally convinced lieutenant tsubaki was right, he's going to have to spell out his feelings in a letter, email, text and phone call for you to understand. he's doesn't inject himself training plans or doctors appointments for everyone.

he's suddenly aware of the calloused palm and fingertips from years of handling assault rifles, and electric blades. your skin feels so delicate, smooth, unharmed. the way your fingers intertwine with his look pretty. 

"feels nice, yeah?"

"i guess." he squeezes. "your hands are way softer than i thought they'd be."

"of course, tsubaki told me to take care of them now, otherwise they'll be like kaji."

umemiya chuckles at that, knows exactly what you're talking about "yeah, his are as rough as sandpaper, aren't they?"

"they are captain, they are. despite all my attempts to get him to use lotion too. he rather suffer with dry hands." 

"you tired to get him to use lotin? i admire your spirit." so you are entirely reckless like hiragi told him. kaji is someone most avoid and approach with extreme caution.

"well once i knew how dry they were," you move a hand to your cheek, "gosh i can still feel his hand, it was like getting hit with a sharp rock, i thought my skin would bleed. but once i knew, i had to intervene." 

his frown is instant, his brain is stuck on the fact that at some point, kaji's hand has made contact with your face. and it was not friendly.  "your hands are kinda rough too..."

you pull his hand up, examining the rough rigids with your own delicate fingers. you keep your nails neat and short, it seems umemiya does too. you're tracing each of his fingers when he barely whispers,  "yeah...occupational hazard and all..." 

you smile up at him, "i can bring you my favorite hand cream. it shouldn't be too hard to heal these", you still trace your fingers softly over the palm of his hand, "definitely not as bad as kaji"

umemiya's heart is running a marathon, he's trying to stop the shivers running down his spine. you're looking so tenderly at his hand, in such awe and care. he should end this, he's your captain, you report up to him. and yet, he doesn't want your touch to stop. 

"yeah? think it's possible for this old things?"

"not old captain"

"fine, well seasoned," you click your tongue at that, he corrects himself with a, "aged like fine wine."

"not even seasoned."

"what? am i still in the pinnacle of my youth?"

"maybe."

"okay, then what's that make you? a toddler?"

"hey!" you push his hand back. 

"just an observation. you look like you're barely able to walk." 

you're feeling playful, "oh and somehow i was recruited by the great captain umemiya hajime for his super duepr elite extermination team. a job many have applied for an failed."

"well i know you'd be competent and reliable. maybe i have a soft spot for toddlers."

he's making you pout with that, you should be happy he's back to that normal, playful side. but you don't like being teased, you don't like how much his laughter makes your heart dance.

"what? don't like being called a toddler? how about little one or baby girl then?"

he..what? oh, maybe he doesn't know. he started his military career pretty young and all, you've never heard about him dating before you joined either, it's only natural you help and correct your captain.  "that's a team of endearment captain, call that cute girl whose hand you wanna hold that."

god you're so frustrating. umemiya could convince platoom member sugishita and sakura to form a beach vollyball duo before he gets who the cute girl is through your head. 

"i'm just teasing."

"oh, were you baby boy?" there! ha! you...you just called your CAPTAIN baby boy. abort abort abort. clearly the pain medication is on overdrive (it's not you forgot to take it) and your feelings of him are not being contained.

he chokes on air, what .....he uses your laugh as a cover while he tries to reclaim his composure, despite his own cheeks burning.

it is amusing to see him flustered.  he's almost boyish now in a way you haven't gotten to see before. it makes you want to steal this moment, keep it all for yourself.  all because of a teeny tiny baby boy remark.  oh god, is he going to say you acted out in subordination and force you on desk duty? 

but it's funny right, it was a joke right? 

you can, joke with your captain?

he runs a hand through his hair, messing up his bangs. "you're enjoying this a bit too much aren't you."

"its a rare sight, you can't blame me if i want it all for myself." can you STOP talking.

the fuck are you trying to give him a heart attack for? you can't say things like that so readily. you wanna be the only one to see him like this? flustered and embarrassed and... "well consider yourself lucky."

"oh, i am so blessed." stop, right now, you need to stop talking.

he laughs, two can play this game. he takes a step closer, bodies nearly touching, brings your hand to his chest, placing it over his heart. the thin material of his shirt does little to hide the rapid beating underneath. "feel that?"

is that...you push against his chest, is that normal? oh my god he looks red in the face too, "...captain are you...are you okay do you need water?" you know he's known to overexert himself. holy crap is he in pain?

"hmm...i think its something serious." oh shit, and you missed all the signs! you gasp in alarm, eyes looking up at him with worry he knows he was someone good and kind in his past life. to have you care for him so easily. 

he leans in close, whispering "i think you make me a little nervous."

"me?"

umemiya nods, eyes on you, bringing his free hand to rest at your him, touch firm, careful. when did he get so close? you can feel the wall behind you scrapping your elbows, when did you back into this?

"you make oh so nervous cute girl."

"captain umemiya..." his name rolls off your tongue like silk. he claims the distance between you two, body pressing against yours, one moving to wrap around your wasit, breath warm against your ear "call me hajime."

anyone can walk in. anyone can see this and..."captain umemiya hajime."

he shakes his head, "no, just my name."

the look he has is so intense, "captain hajime"

he shivers at the sound of his name dripping from your lips, voice honey sweet and soft.  "yeah, like that. just drop the captain, say it again." 

you're blushing, your captain! your crush! the one you've admired for years, here, like this, burning desire in his eyes, for you. it can't be, can it?

ever observant, umemiya picks up the nervousness, one of his hands wanders up to your cheek, gently caressing it with his thumb, "just a name, nothing to be nervous about."  

god, you're the cutest fucking thing. doe-eyed and blush cascading down your cheeks and neck. his eyes meet yours with "say it. my name."

umemiya inhales so sharply,  he's leaning so close to you, waiting, eager, "hajime"

trapped, happily, between the wall and his broad frame, he leans his forehead against yours, eyes closed. "again" he whispers, voice thick with need.

you swallow hard and whisper "hajime."

he leans forward, captures your lips in his, urgent, commanding, needy.

surprise hits you because if this is dream, never let it end. you've wanted him so bad and this, please let this be real. a tiny whimper before his demanding lips pull you back to this moment, back to him.  you relax into the kiss. it has him moving your against your mouth with even more intensity. has he always been this passionate about you?

umemiya presses into you harder, pushing you further against the wall, hands roaming over your body, hungry. and you're equally starved for him, pulling him in, crowding into his space. 

a hand in his messy hair, you swear he's growling, fuck, more more more. umemiya, caught in the moment, moves one hand around the back of your thigh and lifts -- you flinch and let out a gasp of pain. 

FUCK, that's your left leg right? 

umemiya breaks the kiss, "sorry, are you okay, did i make it worse?"

this man is too beautiful and you need to breathe, you push at him with no effort, he loosens his grip and moves back. "i couldn't... tell..."

"i'm so sorry, i got carried away. i didn't mean to hurt--"

"hurt for just a second, nothing...nothing serious." with smile you're dispelling all his worry, all his tension. the late hour catching up with both of you now. 

reality settling back, the fire gone. you're in the training room, door wide open.  "let me walk you back, yeah?"

he's scratching the back of his neck, doesn't want this to end but, shit, he's unsure. his position, his presence, what if it's all in his head, but your hand on his face, thumb on his lips and eyes looking up at him like that

"you'll hold my hand?" but you make no motion to move away from him, pull him back into you, lips finding his again.

yeah, it's not in his head.

[urdreamydoodles]

loved your x-men x omega kid mutant reader can you do a part 2 but with hank, colossus, Emma, Kurt, rogue, and gambit

X-Men x Kid!Reader (Part.2)

Their relationship with you—a omega-level mutant (Part.2)

After being abandoned by your parents due to your dangerous omega-level mutation, you arrive at the Xavier Institute, where a X-Man take you under their wing. They help you navigate the overwhelming potential of your powers, becoming mentors and parental figures as they guide you toward self-acceptance and control.

Characters: Hank McCoy, Colossus, Emma Frost, Kurt Wagner, Rogue, Remy LeBeau (+ my personal addition: Wanda Maximoff, Laura Kinney & Bobby Drake)

Thanks, glad you liked it ♡ And you asked therefore I deliver, hope you love it! — Love, Marie, your friendly marvel fangirl

Hank McCoy (Beast)

When you first arrive at the mansion, you expect to be met with fear or, at the very least, hesitation. After all, that’s what your own parents showed you the moment your mutation manifested. But Hank McCoy is different. The moment he sees you—standing small and uncertain in the foyer, your dangerous power tightly coiled within you—he greets you with a wide smile. His blue fur contrasts with the warm, fatherly energy radiating from him, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you don’t feel like you’re something to be feared.

Hank’s reaction to your omega-level mutation isn’t one of intimidation, but fascination. He wants to know everything about it—not just how it works, but how you feel about it. He sits with you, cross-legged in his library, listening patiently as you explain the fear and confusion you carry. His sharp intellect is only matched by his compassion, and he tells you that your mutation, like all gifts, can be harnessed for good.

As the weeks pass, Hank takes on more than the role of a mentor—he becomes a father figure. He’s patient when you accidentally lose control of your powers, and his gentle, reassuring voice never wavers when you apologize. He teaches you more than just science and literature (though you spend countless hours in his lab, tinkering with gadgets and discussing equations that make your head spin), but he also teaches you how to trust yourself. You realize that beneath his towering intellect and beastly appearance, Hank has experienced his own battles with self-acceptance.

In those moments where you feel overwhelmed by your mutation’s dangerous potential, Hank is the one who grounds you. He teaches you breathing exercises, how to center your thoughts, and reminds you that you are not defined by the destructive aspects of your power. He always emphasizes your potential to create and heal. Over time, you learn to admire the way he’s mastered his own transformation into something powerful and kind, and you aspire to do the same.

One day, after a particularly rough session where you nearly lost control, you find yourself sitting with him in the lab, head in your hands. He places a large, gentle hand on your shoulder and says, “You are far stronger than you realize. And not just because of your powers.” Those words stick with you, and for the first time, you begin to believe that maybe he’s right.

Piotr Rasputin (Colossus)

When you first meet Piotr, you’re terrified. Not of him, but of yourself. The adults around you seem constantly wary, as if the wrong word or move could send you into a catastrophic spiral. But when Piotr looks at you, he doesn’t see a threat. He sees a scared child who needs someone to believe in them. His calm demeanor and towering metal form should be intimidating, but instead, he kneels down to your level, his eyes soft and warm.

He doesn’t say much at first. Piotr is a man of few words, but his actions speak volumes. He’s always nearby, quietly watching over you, making sure you feel safe in this new, unfamiliar place. You notice that he doesn’t flinch when your powers flare up—he simply stands firm, as solid as a mountain, reassuring you with his presence alone.

As you spend more time together, Piotr becomes something of a gentle giant in your life. He treats you with such care, like a delicate flower that needs protection, but never with pity. When you accidentally lose control, he’s the one who steps in, not with fear, but with understanding. He transforms into his metal form, allowing your energy to crash against him without harm. “It is okay,” he says in his thick Russian accent, his voice steady. “You are not a monster. You are just learning.”

Over time, Piotr becomes like a father to you, though he never pushes the role on you. It’s in the small things—the way he always makes sure you eat, the way he invites you to sit with him while he paints in the garden, the way he calls you маленький друг (little friend) with such tenderness. His quiet strength gives you something to lean on, and his patient, steady nature helps you feel grounded.

Piotr encourages you to find creative outlets for your power, much like he channels his emotions through his art. Sometimes, he sets up a canvas for you next to his, and though you’re nowhere near as talented, the way he praises your efforts makes you feel proud. His belief in you never wavers, even on the days when you doubt yourself.

The bond you share with Piotr isn’t one of grand gestures, but small, steady moments of kindness and understanding. In his presence, you feel less like a danger to the world and more like a person who is still growing, still learning. He shows you that strength isn’t just about control—it’s about knowing when to be gentle, and when to forgive yourself.

Emma Frost

The first time you meet Emma Frost, you’re immediately struck by her confidence. She exudes an air of authority that makes you feel small, but not in a way that diminishes you. It’s clear from the moment she lays eyes on you that she knows exactly what you are—an omega-level mutant with a dangerous mutation—and yet, there’s no fear in her eyes. Only curiosity, and perhaps a little bit of something else you can’t quite place.

Emma doesn’t sugarcoat things. She tells you straight up that your power is dangerous, and that learning control won’t be easy. But there’s something in the way she says it that makes you feel like she’s offering you a challenge, rather than a warning. And, for some reason, you want to rise to meet it. She doesn’t coddle you like some of the others; she expects you to be strong, to push yourself, and in her own way, she’s telling you she believes you can handle it.

Your relationship with Emma is complex. She’s not the nurturing type, at least not in the way most people expect. Instead, she’s fiercely protective in a way that makes you feel powerful, not weak. When you have doubts about your abilities, she’s the first to shut them down, reminding you that you’re an omega-level mutant for a reason. “The world will try to tell you what you can’t do,” she says one day, her voice sharp and precise. “Don’t ever let them. You decide what you’re capable of.”

At first, you’re intimidated by her, and that’s exactly how she likes it. Emma teaches you to embrace the power within you, not to fear it. She drills into you the importance of control, but not because you’re dangerous—because you’re capable. She wants you to understand that your mutation is a gift, not a curse, and she’s determined to make sure you see that, too.

As time goes on, you realize that Emma’s tough exterior hides a deep well of care. She may not show it in obvious ways, but every sharp word, every push to be better, is because she wants you to succeed. She doesn’t allow you to wallow in self-pity or fear, and in her own way, she becomes the mother figure you never expected. She teaches you how to stand tall, to take control of your narrative, and to never let anyone make you feel less than what you are.

One day, after a particularly grueling session where you finally manage to control your power in a way you never thought possible, she looks at you with something resembling pride in her eyes. “Well done,” she says, her voice cool and composed, but you can feel the weight behind the words. Coming from Emma Frost, that means everything.

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler)

When you first arrive at the mansion, Kurt is the first person to approach you. He’s not like the others—he doesn’t move cautiously or tiptoe around you like you’re some volatile bomb waiting to go off. Instead, he teleports right in front of you with a playful grin and a flash of blue fur. “Guten Tag! You must be our new student.” His tail sways as he regards you, his eyes warm and welcoming, and for a moment, you almost forget the danger inside you.

At first, you don’t know what to make of him. He’s playful and lighthearted, yet somehow, you can tell that he understands the heaviness in your heart. Kurt never treats you like you’re something to be feared, which is so different from the way your parents acted. He takes your hand, introduces you to the other kids, and makes sure that you never feel like an outsider. His teleportation tricks make you laugh, and in a world where you’ve felt isolated by your dangerous powers, laughter feels like a rare gift.

As you spend more time with him, Kurt becomes something like an older brother—or maybe even a father, though his playful nature makes it hard to think of him that way at first. He’s patient, but he never tries to smother you with concern. Instead, he teaches you how to balance the weight of your power with a sense of hope. When you struggle with control, he’s always there, not just to comfort you but to help you find the joy in your abilities.

One evening, after a long day of training where you almost lost control, Kurt sits beside you in the chapel he’s created at the mansion. You can sense that his faith is important to him, and though he never pushes it on you, his quiet prayers bring you peace. “You are not a danger, mein Kind,” he says softly, his hand resting on your shoulder. “You are a blessing. Even when the world feels dark, you are not alone.” It’s the first time you realize that Kurt sees more in you than just your mutation—he sees your heart.

Over time, you grow closer to him. Kurt teaches you not only how to manage your powers, but how to believe in yourself. He encourages you to embrace the good in the world, even when it feels overshadowed by your fear of losing control. He teaches you to laugh, to play, and to find joy in the smallest things. And when you falter, when your powers flare and you feel overwhelmed, Kurt is always there with a kind word and a teleportation trick that makes everything feel lighter.

Rogue (Anna-Marie)

When you first meet Rogue, she looks at you with a kind of understanding that surprises you. She knows what it’s like to have a power that’s dangerous, one that pushes people away. You don’t have to explain the fear in your eyes—she sees it, because she’s lived it. “Hey, sugar,” she says softly, her Southern accent warm and inviting. “Don’t worry, I know what it’s like to be scared of what you can do.”

At first, Rogue is cautious around you, not because she’s afraid of you, but because she’s learned to be careful with her own powers. But she never makes you feel like you’re too dangerous to be near. Instead, she shows you that even with abilities that can hurt others, you can still find connection and love. She tells you about her own struggles with her mutation, how she’s learned to live with the isolation, and how she’s found family in the X-Men.

It doesn’t take long for you to see Rogue as a mother figure. She’s fiercely protective of you, and she teaches you to be strong, even when the world feels like it’s against you. She understands when you have bad days, when the weight of your mutation feels like too much to bear. “You’re tougher than you think, darlin’,” she tells you, her gloved hand resting gently on your shoulder. “You’ve got a power, sure, but you’ve also got a heart. Don’t forget that.”

As the months pass, Rogue becomes the person you turn to when you need comfort. She knows how to pull you out of your darkest moments, sometimes with a tough-love approach, but always with care. She never lets you wallow in self-pity for long, pushing you to see the strength inside yourself. When you accidentally let your powers slip, she’s the first one to remind you that it’s okay to make mistakes. “Ain’t nobody perfect,” she says, her green eyes sparkling with determination. “What matters is that you keep tryin’.”

Rogue’s tough exterior hides a deep well of love, and you come to rely on her more than you expected. She doesn’t sugarcoat things—she’ll tell you when you’re being too hard on yourself or when you’re letting fear control you. But she always does it with your best interests at heart. In her, you find not just a mentor, but someone who sees the good in you, even when you can’t see it yourself.

Remy LeBeau (Gambit)

Your first impression of Remy is that he’s a little too smooth for his own good. He saunters into the room with his usual swagger, flashing a mischievous smile that makes you immediately suspicious. But there’s something about him that puts you at ease, too. Maybe it’s the way he calls you petite, or the way he doesn’t treat you like you’re fragile. Instead, he talks to you like you’re just another one of the X-Men, not some ticking time bomb waiting to go off.

“Don’t worry, chérie,” he says the first time you meet. “Ain’t nobody here scared of ya. We all got somethin’ we don’t like about ourselves. But that don’t mean we ain’t family, non?” His Cajun drawl is light, but his words carry weight, and you find yourself slowly starting to trust him.

Remy isn’t the type to hover over you or offer unsolicited advice, but he has a way of being there when you need him most. He’s the first to notice when you’re feeling overwhelmed by your powers, and he’ll distract you with a card trick or some ridiculous story from his past. “Life’s all about balance, petite,” he tells you one day, flicking a charged card in your direction before catching it mid-air. “You gotta learn how to take the good with the bad. Ain’t nobody perfect, but that don’t mean we stop tryin’, eh?”

As time goes on, Remy becomes like a father figure to you—though he’s more of the laid-back, cool dad type. He teaches you to loosen up, to stop being so hard on yourself. When you mess up, he doesn’t make a big deal out of it. “Everybody loses control sometimes,” he says with a shrug. “What matters is what you do after.” He teaches you how to find joy in the little things, whether it’s a good meal or a game of cards, and his easygoing nature helps you relax in ways you didn’t think were possible.

But there’s more to Remy than just charm and clever words. When things get tough—when you feel like your mutation is too much to handle—he’s there with quiet, steady support. He may not say much, but the way he’s always around when you need him speaks volumes. He’ll sit with you in silence, letting you work through your emotions without pushing you. And when you’re ready, he’ll offer a bit of wisdom wrapped in his usual playful tone, but you know he means every word.

Over time, you come to trust Remy completely. He teaches you that life isn’t just about controlling your powers—it’s about living with them, accepting that sometimes things will go wrong, but that doesn’t define who you are. In him, you find a balance between strength and vulnerability, and though he may act like he’s carefree, you know that he cares deeply for you.

Wanda Maximoff (Scarlet Witch)

When you first meet Wanda Maximoff, her presence is almost overwhelming. There’s something ethereal about her—an intensity that both draws you in and makes you nervous. She knows power. She understands what it’s like to have abilities that can warp reality, that can tip the balance of everything if you’re not careful. And yet, when she looks at you, her eyes are soft, her smile warm. She doesn’t see you as dangerous. She sees a young mutant who, like her, needs guidance.

Wanda’s first reaction to you is understanding—an understanding so deep that it surprises you. She doesn’t shy away from discussing how hard it can be to live with a power that could spiral out of control. “It’s not about being afraid of what you can do,” she tells you, her voice low and calm. “It’s about learning how to be with your power, how to trust yourself. That’s the hardest part.”

She takes you under her wing without hesitation, and as you spend more time with her, you realize how much she truly understands your struggles. Wanda never sugarcoats things—she’s open about her own past, her own mistakes, and how she’s still learning to forgive herself. In those first few weeks, she teaches you not only about control, but about acceptance. She wants you to understand that your mutation is part of you, but it doesn’t define you. “You’re more than just your powers,” she says softly one day. “You are who you choose to be.”

As the bond between you deepens, Wanda becomes something like a mother figure. She’s protective in a quiet, fierce way. When your powers feel too heavy, when you’re scared of hurting those around you, she’s the one who sits beside you, her presence calming the storm inside. She teaches you rituals to center yourself—small, everyday things like focusing your energy on a candle flame or holding a crystal in your hand. “It’s not magic,” she explains, “it’s just learning to find your center. And from there, you can control anything.”

Wanda is patient with you. She never pushes too hard, but she always encourages you to keep going, even when you feel like giving up. She doesn’t believe in failure, only in learning. “Every time you falter,” she tells you, “you get stronger. Remember that.”

The relationship you develop with Wanda isn’t just about mentorship—it’s about family. She becomes the person you trust most, the one who understands your fears and your hopes without needing to say much. And in her, you find someone who knows how to harness immense power while still holding onto her humanity. That’s what she teaches you most of all: how to remain you even when everything feels like it’s spiraling out of control.

Laura Kinney (X-23/Wolverine)

When Laura Kinney first meets you, she’s quiet. You can feel her eyes on you, measuring, assessing, but there’s no judgment in her gaze. If anything, you sense that Laura understands more than she’s letting on. There’s a sharpness to her, an edge that you can’t quite define, but also a sense of protection. She’s wary, but she’s not afraid of you—or your powers. She simply nods at you when you’re introduced, and from that moment on, you know that Laura is different from the others.

Laura doesn’t rush to take you under her wing. Instead, she gives you space—space to figure out your place in the mansion, to figure out who you are. It’s only later that you realize she’s been watching over you the whole time, silently keeping an eye on you, making sure you’re safe. She’s not the type to coddle or offer comforting words, but her actions speak louder than any platitudes could.

At first, you’re intimidated by her. Laura’s quiet intensity, her ability to shift from stillness to action in a heartbeat, makes you wary of getting too close. But it’s during training sessions that you begin to see a different side of her. She pushes you hard, never letting you slack or hide behind fear, but she also teaches you how to trust your instincts. “You’re stronger than you think,” she tells you one day after a particularly grueling session. Her voice is calm, steady, and when she says it, you believe her.

As the days turn into weeks, you begin to understand that Laura is someone who knows what it’s like to be feared, to be seen as a weapon rather than a person. She doesn’t talk much about her past, but in those rare moments when she opens up, you learn that she’s been through more than you can imagine. And yet, she’s still standing, still fighting, still protecting those she cares about. Slowly, Laura becomes someone you look up to—not just as a mentor, but as a protector, even a sister.

Laura teaches you how to fight, how to defend yourself—not just physically, but mentally. She’s always telling you to be prepared, to never let your guard down. “You can’t control everything,” she says one day as you both sit on the roof of the mansion, looking out at the grounds. “But you can control yourself. And that’s enough.”

Though she’s not overly affectionate, there’s a quiet bond that forms between the two of you. Laura isn’t the type to offer hugs or soothing words, but she’s always there when you need her—silent, dependable, and unyielding. In her, you find someone who understands what it’s like to live with power and the fear that comes with it. And in her own quiet way, she teaches you that you can be both strong and vulnerable, both fierce and kind.

Bobby Drake (Iceman)

When Bobby Drake first meets you, he’s all smiles and jokes, his easygoing nature immediately putting you at ease. He doesn’t treat you like some dangerous mutant whose powers could spiral out of control at any second. Instead, he greets you with a lightheartedness that makes you feel like you’re just another kid at the mansion. “Hey there, powerhouse,” he says with a wink. “Don’t worry, we’re all a little scary sometimes.”

Bobby’s approach is different from the others. He doesn’t focus on the danger of your powers or the fear that’s been building inside you. Instead, he’s all about making you feel comfortable, making you laugh when you’re tense or unsure. He cracks jokes during training sessions, makes silly ice sculptures just to see you smile, and generally keeps the atmosphere light. At first, you wonder if he even takes your powers seriously, but as you spend more time with him, you realize that Bobby’s humor is his way of helping you relax, helping you see that your powers don’t have to be a source of constant fear.

As you grow closer, Bobby becomes like an older brother to you. He’s the one you turn to when everything feels too heavy, when the weight of your mutation seems unbearable. He doesn’t give you grand speeches or deep advice—instead, he just sits with you, makes you laugh, and reminds you that it’s okay to mess up sometimes. “We’re mutants,” he says one day, creating an ice sculpture in the shape of a dragon just to make you laugh. “We’re not exactly built for normal. And that’s a good thing.”

Despite his laid-back attitude, Bobby is fiercely protective of you. When you have moments where your powers slip out of control, he’s always there, calming you down with a joke or distracting you with his own powers. He never makes you feel like you’re a danger to those around you—instead, he makes you feel like you belong. “You’re part of the team now,” he says with a grin. “And trust me, we’ve all had our moments of crazy power freak-outs.”

Over time, Bobby helps you see that your powers aren’t just something to be controlled—they’re something to have fun with. He teaches you to see the joy in what you can do, to experiment and play with your abilities rather than always being afraid of them. His easygoing nature helps you find a sense of normalcy in the chaos of being an omega-level mutant, and his constant support reminds you that you’re not alone in this.

Bobby may act like the class clown, but underneath all the jokes and ice puns, he’s someone you can rely on. He’s always there when you need him, always ready to cheer you up or help you figure things out. And in his own goofy, brotherly way, he shows you that you can be powerful and still have fun—that your mutation doesn’t have to define your life, but it can be a part of it that brings you joy.