#and she was like: this is information for you to take insight from so do not be frightened

[mortalityplays]

"how do you just know this" is a question I get asked a lot, because I tend to be someone who can contribute unusual facts or insight on whatever topic a casual conversation turns to, and I never know how to answer because "I pay attention" sounds rude and isn't super actionable. but that is really it, I just take an active interest when I encounter something curious or unusual.

like recently one of my friends linked me a funny paragraph from a very badly written erotic novel. it was so bad that I thought "I wonder if this is real", so we looked up the book it was from and learned it was a vintage horny housewife type story by someone who wrote a lot of shitty cheap porn back in the 80s, all of which now seems to be completely out of print.

in the course of googling the author, I discovered that one of their works had been cited in a 2004 court case over a prisoner's right to keep erotic novels in his personal library after the prison confiscated them. a bit more googling turned up the case details in a legal database. the guy had received the books by mail and kept them, among others, in his cell. the prison seized them, citing a policy against prisoners having pornography. his lawyers argued that 1. erotic novels are distinct from pornography because they have artistic and expressive content beyond the depiction of sex acts, and 2. since he received them by mail they are therefore protected under his constitutional right to freely access non-disruptive information from outside the prison. I don't know if he got his books back, but he won his case.

then we googled the defendant and found out he was in prison for helping a woman to drug and murder his boss (who she lived with), mutilate the body with acid and dump him in a ravine.

anyway my point is, take an interest. that's how you learn weird stuff.

[postcardsfromheapside]

This game has been out since Halloween.

In that time, there have been numerous Veilguard positive posts in which patient, loving, wonderful, insightful and intelligent individuals attempt to impart lore onto a fanbase which doesn't deserve their time and attention.

I can't believe I'm running across posts made within the past five days which express disgust and frustration towards the devs over things which have been explained in great detail multiple times on this site, BUT IN THE DAMN GAME.

AND Y'ALL KEEP COMPLAINING THE GAME TELLS BUT DOESN'T SHOW. AND YOU DON'T EVEN LISTEN OR WATCH.

"the crows are presented as wholesome" - they are not. this site has a crow fanbase which has run off and lionized Viago as Daddy, conveniently ignored all the in-game details which either hint or baldly state things Definitely Aren't Cool, and generally fetishized what it means to be a Crow because of Zevran and Lucanis. Then the same people, or others who weren't paying proper attention, whined when the headcanon crowded out the actual in-game material, and they said "Antiva is whitewashed." There have been multiple posts about this.

"slaves are meant to be everywhere in Tevinter and we don't see that" - we aren't everywhere, we're specifically in Docktown which is poor and people generally can't afford slaves there, but we do see evidence of slavery, and we run around with abolitionists and help save people from fascist slavers and free people who will either be slaves or victims of blood magic so IDK what to tell you, there have been multiple posts explaining this too, maybe leave your slave or savior fetish somewhere else.

"Racism is supposed to be rampant" - fuck off. I actually will not be explaining this because for once it was nice not to be called a slur. If you need this to feel "immersed" or to feel there are actual problems, I need you to check yourself fucking hard. If you want to masquerade what it feels like to experience bigotry, go play one of the prior games. This has also been discussed in multiple posts.

"Handling pure lyrium is fine now" no handling the dagger is fine Solas cleansed it, the dagger woke something up in Harding specifically she talks about how some dwarves are connected to the stone, she previously had not been one of them and maybe the dagger woke something up in her, or did you need a pop up explaining this? Were you paying attention during cut scenes and dialogue?

"Adult Dalish without vallaslin" - in the 10 years since Inquisition/Trespasser, doubtless some dalish have come to adulthood and found out what assholes their gods were and made the decision not to go through that specific cultural rites. Or maybe city elves joined the Dalish. Who knows who made up the elf population at that ritual site. Elves are not a monolith. We've made multiple, multiple posts about elves not being monoliths.

"Solas' opinion on blood magic went from neutral to negative" SOLAS FUCKING LIES. We've made multiple posts about Solas lying, if you need this explained further I suggest you play the game all over again, he lies to you throughout the entire game.

"Re-write of the after credits scene in Inquisition to recontextualise the Flemeth and Solas interaction" it's recontextualized because now we know who and what they were to each other. Learning new information does that. This is literally what happens all the time in science and history. You recontextualize what you thought you knew with new information. You're supposed to change your position, not whine about how the new information makes everything different.

These are just some of the things I pulled from a list on a post in which someone was really just upset about everything. Everything. Varric, Morrigan, Solas, everything. But I can't take their criticisms seriously, because they're upset that "too much was told" and "not enough shown" and yet didn't even pay attention to DA lore or in-game dialogue or context clues around the world of Northern Thedas to answer their own questions.

Everything in this game makes complete sense if you use lore from prior games and a single iota of imagination to see how it fits. We've had many delightful posts discussing this, seeing how things could be explained, when approaching the game from a place of curiosity rather than being upset because personal headcanons weren't satisfied or long-held expectations weren't met.

[reignpage]

Piercer!Geto

Ducati 350 Desmo : rev my engine

Contents: 18+ mdni, huge foreplay, teasing, insight into that one text between modern au!Suguru and reader, inappropriate workplace behaviour, not proofread (literally wrote this just now and felt an urge to post immediately)

A giggle escapes you. 

Your boss just texted you to come to his office for a consultation on a possible tattoo. And you’re biting your lip, walking over to his door, weaving around the different stations of your fellow co-workers who simply grin at you. They have eyes, they can see he treats you differently, see that he’s softer, more patient around you. 

And they definitely see the blush that stains your cheeks every time he winks at you or breezes past. You just hope they can’t see you press your thighs together when he places his large hand on the small of your back and whisper an ‘excuse me, pretty’ in your ear.

It’s a little silly to be getting so worked up over your boss — your sister would certainly not approve, but she’s not much better than you — but your boss is tall, dark and handsome. Anyone in your position would feel the same way. 

You hear him say ‘come in’ when you knock, so you slip inside and close the door with a nervous smile. Suguru is sat behind his desk, hair tied up into a bun at the back, flicking through a portfolio. His leather jacket is strung on the back of his chair, tight black shirt clinging to his lean but muscular body in a way that makes you jealous. 

“Hey, boss.” Your voice has a slight waver to it, a nervous tremor that catches his attention. He looks up through his thick lashes, a small smile pulling at his lips. Beckoning you to sit across from him, he leans back in his chair, seemingly taking in your figure. 

Thank goodness you stole your sister’s pink sweater with a low v-line dipping to your cleavage. The simmering look he gives you makes facing her wrath so worth it. 

Sitting down, you clasp your hands in your lap. You’ve been in his office many times, but those were quick moments: giving him coffee, informing him of an emergency or a sudden cancellation, grabbing something from his shelves. But you’ve never quite sat and basked in the slight vanilla smell in the air, never been on the opposite side of his desk like a client, and you’ve certainly never faced his flirtations head-on like this. 

Suguru sits up, leaning on his elbow and tilting his head at you with a patient smile. A lock of hair follows with him and you want to feel it. Gosh, his hair looks so pretty. You wonder if it’s as silky as it looks. 

“How have you been finding working here, Y/n? I hope you’re finding it easy enough to balance your studies with your part-time job.”

You pout at the paternal tone he’s taken on. “It’s great. Everyone is so nice. No matter how many times I mess up, no one gets mad at me. Everyone’s so patient, I really feel at home.”

He nods, smile widening ever so slightly. “Good, good. I’m glad to hear that.”

The pink polish on your pointer finger is flaking off as you scratch. You’re fidgeting, suddenly feeling alert and aware of every movement, every shuffle outside the door as people walk past. It feels wrong to be hidden away like this with everyone still working just behind that door. It isn’t even locked. 

“So,” Suguru begins, a teasing lilt to his voice, “you want a tattoo.”

“I want to be tattooed by you,” you hurriedly correct. Why did you do that? That sounded so desperate. You wince but he only smiles wider, like he knows exactly what you’re thinking. 

You’re too obvious. 

Suguru opens a drawer and places the leather sketchbook you found the other day. It’s thick, with scraps of paper poking out, and held together by an elastic band. The only thing in his entire office, and in his entire studio, that is messy. It feels scandalous, like you saw a peek through his soul and he had let you. Your heart clenches. So does your pussy. 

Nope.

Behave, you tell your body.

When you catches his gaze, he motions you over to his side. So you stand, pulling your short skirt down as discreetly as possible, and round his desk. This feels even more scandalous. You’re on the boss’ side, seeing the world from his perspective. He’s still sat down whilst you stand beside him, shuffling on your feet awkwardly. 

Then he pushes his chair back ever so slightly to give you space to lean forward and look at the page he’s opened. It’s of the dragon you saw. A pearly white, elegant looking creature with captivating yellow eyes. Its body is twisted, curling as it takes flight, rising through the heavens. You had no idea tattoos could be so beautiful. 

“I’m happy to broaden your perspective, pretty girl,” he replies. 

You hadn’t even realise you said it out loud. You blush again. 

You’re looking down on him, and he’s leaning back in his chair, legs spread in the loose trousers he wears, but it’s settled on his thick thighs, revealing the delectable muscles there and the bulge you’re trying not to look at. 

When you glance back up at him, he’s pressing his lips together like he’s trying not to laugh. Heat rises up your neck to your face. You should be fired.

Clearing your throat, you point to the dragon. “I want that one.”

“Yeah?” He’s studying you, no doubt trying to determine if you’re worthy. “Can you handle being tattooed, pretty? You’ll have needles poking you, will you manage?”

It’s clear he’s trying to test your limits, which is fair because you don’t have a single tattoo, unlike everyone else in the studio. You stand out with all your pastels and pinks contrasting with the sharp metals and ink of the place. But Suguru thinks you’re a scaredy cat. He thinks you’d tap out immediately and cry home about how he was too rough or too mean. 

You raise a brow, trying to imitate that arrogant look your sister always has. “I think I’ll be able to handle whatever you give me,” and then you add, almost like an afterthought, “boss.”

Always smiling, Suguru lifts a hand and curls two fingers. You shuffle between his spread legs, slotting in so perfectly it makes the tips of your breasts tingle. It’d be so easy to just kneel between them, to take out that part of him you’ve been dreaming of since he interviewed you, and ask for his cum like a good girl. Or better yet, to just plop yourself down on his lap and ride him to oblivion. 

You don’t do either, of course. 

It’d be wrong to do any of that with your boss, though you’re sure you wouldn’t regret a thing. But you have no experience with men. Your fingers, and a couple times a pillow, have been your only company on night where the frustration has boiled over. 

Suguru runs his gaze up the length of your body, from the smooth thighs peaking from your skirt, to your waist, to the nipples pebbling under your thin sweater, and the curves rounding out beyond the neckline, your neck, and your face. Then back down again. 

You gulp. 

There are phantom grazes running along your skin, tickling your skin wherever it goes. It’s making you ache between your legs and you want to rub yourself along his thigh, or his face, or both. How is he doing that?

Slowly, like a panther stalking its prey, he straightens his posture and his hand lifts. You’re both watching his fingertips graze the side of your thigh at a snail’s pace, as if intent on carving the feeling of your skin to memory. 

Your heart is pounding in your ribcage, threatening to burst out and dance on his desk. It’s pulsing at a beat that matches the down at the apex of your thighs. Can he hear it?

His eyes meet yours. His smile is gone. That cool temperament has disappeared, replaced with a strain in his eyes, in the way it flickers between yours. And when you gasp as his fingers reach the hem of your tight skirt, feeling the soft pudge, his eyes narrow. 

“Where do you want it?”

Through the haze, you barely hear what he’s saying. You stutter out, “Anywhere you want, boss.”

That was the wrong thing to say apparently because in a flash he’s standing behind you, pinning your hips to the desk with his own. Oh goodness, his body feels so firm against yours. And he smells so good, like thrill and danger wrapped in one. 

Your head falls back against his chest when his hands grip your hips, fingers splaying over your tummy, so close to where you want them but still not close enough.  

His lips scrape the shell of your ear and his deep timbre enters you and vibrates your very being. “Be careful, angel. I might just brand you everywhere.”

Head tilting to the side, you’re gasping at him. “Brand?”

You breathed it out like it was the dirtiest word in the English vocabulary, like he had just suggested he spit in your mouth in front of the clients. But when you make eye contact, he raises his hand to lift your sweater just a little, thumb settling on your bare skin, all warm from the blood rushing through you. 

You’re growing dizzy, so lightheaded you hardly remember where you even are. That must be why he has an impression that looks so innocent, like he hadn’t said anything at all. You’re mistaken. The rush is ruining your perception. 

Suguru leans down and he’s so close, you’re just a tiptoe away from feeling his lips against yours, from tasting him and exploring anything and everything he’s willing to give. His hands are burning his imprints and you already know you’ll feel them later when you’re no doubt sliding your own hand into your soaked panties. 

But then he pulls away just as there’s a knock at his door. 

You hear Miguel’s muffled voice and you scramble back from Sugar, who’s gracefully sitting back down like nothing’s happened. Your mind is frantically trying to catch up, and it leaves you breathless. 

Stumbling over to the door, you fix your sweater and pull down your skirt hurriedly before opening the door to see the man polite smile at you and then at the boss. 

He enters and you exit, the door remains open. But when you sneak one last glance at the room, you see Miguel admiring something on the wall, and then you catch Suguru’s heated gaze, his stare not faltering even as he presses a hand to his crotch and adjusts himself like a promise. 

You walk back to your desk at the front of the shop and desperately try to catch your breath just in time as a pink-haired man you recognise as being a member of the student council and a friend of your sister introduces himself and ask to see Suguru on a ‘personal matter’.   

It’s as if you’re moving on auto-pilot, nodding with a polite smile and gesturing to the direction of his office unnecessarily because the man’s already walking off. Your phone pings and you open it to see a text from your friend about how she’s on her way. 

You exhale one last time, replying something to her and ignoring the embers flickering on the places your boss has touched. 

And then you giggle. 

[wintfleur]

Addressing the sweetestdesire situation !!

ꪆ୧ more screenshots are under the keep reading!

This morning i received an ask on anon regarding Brynn, also known as sweetestdesire. Informing me of her plagiarizing other people’s writings. (I completely agree what anon has expressed, it is completely wrong what she did)

With further research I clicked on all the links and saw that her posts (the copied ones) have already been deleted, so I can’t say nothing regarding those links for sure. But one of my friends on here has also received an ask just like mine, just with different links/fics.

I cross read them and you can notice immediately that Brynn had copied them almost word to word, down below are some screenshots proving it!

(BRYNNS THE ORIGINAL )

* TAKE A HIKE (TITLE FOR BOTH )

* CAUGHT IN THE ACT (COPIED) LAST FIRST DATE (ORIGINAL)

* A FRIEND IN NEED (COPIED) THE PROPOSITION (ORIGINAL)

* ANGRY INSIGHT (COPIED) SORE LOSER (ORIGINAL)

As you all can see, it’s clear that she had stolen from these writers, which is completely unacceptable and wrong. I’m not making this post to bully Brynn, I just want people to know the truth and understand what has happened, and the original writers deserve to be known as the actual writers of these stories.

That being said I have reached out to brynn outside of tumblr when I noticed that she had deactivated her account! I won’t share our conversations out of privacy for her. but I did bring this up to her, she knew what she was doing was wrong, and she apologizes. I asked her if she had anything she wanted to me to tell everyone, this is it.

“Please let everyone know that I do apologize for just deciding to pussy out and just run away from the problems rather than come clean about everything and give a much needed apology. I shouldn't have done that and I shouldn't have done everything else that I've done. I don't know if I'll come back, but as of right now, I don't see that happening because I don't feel as if I belong on there or wanted for that matter. I fucked up and I take full responsibility about everything and if I could take back everything, I would”

I want to say again that I completely agree with the anon, plagiarism is wrong! I apologize if this seems rushed (it is) but I believe that people deserve to know the truth, however hard it is!

Again, I want to make it clear that I am not making this post to bully, or be rude in anyway!

This is mostly all the information that I have on the matter, if anyone has any questions feel free to message me or send an ask!

tagging some of my moots to spread the word <3 @winterbarnesblog @wondrluv @wineauntie @fantillisgirl @isaadore @hhughes @lovesickhughes @sc0tters @letsgetrowdy43 @nylqnder @ebsmind @ruinix @prfctstrmrry @cuteandhughesy @hughesinthebox

[felassan]

Some notes from today's new BioWare Blog post, which contained some new character insights and also gave some information on what is coming next and when:

Creative Performance Director Ashley Barlow helped to cast and direct over a thousand conversations in the game

Lucanis is bloodthirsty, calculated, and a workaholic. He was raised with high expectations and fears disappointing those he loves. To him, being an assassin is his only job and identity to be excellent at. He's constantly attuning himself to the kind of shifting terrain of every mission. There's a lot of love between him and Illario

As Zach is a comedian, he would easily find the humor in anything Lucanis was saying

Neve is a Shadow Dragons rebel who cares deeply about helping people and never leaves work half-done. Epler: " [she is] the working class hero trying to make her hometown better"

Emmrich is sincere, friendly, scholarly, sophisticated, eager to teach and learn, a well-meaning but oblivious academic, with a "hot nerdiness". He assumes everyone has an academic's curiosity so can be pedantic on select topics

The Mourn Watch are revered in Nevarra but odd at best and evil at worst outside of it

Nick: "I love the fact that the writers took Emmerich and explored the whole idea of death and the whole idea of necromancing by bringing kindness into it. I really responded to that and got into that and I know it sounds crazy, but it’s to not have this idea that death is vulgar or something to be terrified about, but something to actually engage with on so many levels. I just love the fact that the writers had the courage to do that in a game like this."

"Often Nick is just playing off of someone making a sound, and he takes it and internalizes it and gives it meaning and care, which is amazing to watch."

The world has changed a lot since DA:I

Harding has been leading teams through the wilderness while covering friends in battle

Harding loves her mom. She loves to write letters home and is always talking about her mother. She likes plants and raising plants. She has grown and is a veteran now, a trusted voice at the table

Footage of the full DA:TV @ SDCC companions panel should be available in a couple of weeks

Next month there will be a new roadmap, more looks at the game, and the reveal of the release date

[emphasis mine]

And this paragraph:

"Dragon Age: The Veilguard sees players embark on a perilous quest to face powerful Elven gods and stop the apocalyptic destruction they’re unleashing. You’ll step into the role of Rook, battling on the front lines alongside a deep and compelling cast of companions who together comprise The Veilguard, a group of heroes who have come together to stop the veil from breaking and bringing about the end of the world. Rook must become the unexpected leader who can rally and unite the group. Throughout the game, you can explore the detailed storylines of each companion, navigating love, loss, and complex choices that influence your relationships."

[source]

[anisangeldust]

Blind faith 𝜗𝜚⋆

Summary: it’s not an obsession. It’s a need.

Pairing: young President!coriolanus x maid fem!reader

Part: i →

Warnings: misogyny, stalking, Coriolanus’ fucked up mind, mentions of violence, forced sexualization, masturbation (m), non-con, somiphillia, p in v, normal bipolar behavior from Coriolanus, borderline domestic abuse.

A/N: False God series pt 1! Enjoy!

The aroma of coffee and mildew ridden books danced around the confines of Coriolanus’ office; the large, dark oak desk piled high with important paperwork and other such tedious documents that ate at his soul. Many bad decisions had led him to the thoughts he was having at the moment, ones that made him want to peel his skin off and lay in a pool of his own blood.

He should be happy—he should be, but he wasn’t, and it was his own goddamn fault. Any woman in Panem, his pick of the best, and he chose the one that, in his opinion, was so immeasurably insufferable that she was better off in a grave somewhere. But alas, Livia Cardew was an important person, so she ended up with the rock on her finger. She’d be the one in a months time to wear white and be proclaimed his beloved. At least she wasn’t putrid to gaze upon.

Layered on top was the stress of finding a new maid. The old one died right before Ravenstill stepped down from the position, and Coriolanus was just now getting around to replacing her. In his option, the least Livia could do was her duties as a woman and clean, but he’d never dare to let his tongue slip and ruin this important engagement, not after he’d worked so hard to get back up to the top.

Sometimes he was bewildered at how someone who graduated the same year as him at the academy could be so dim witted, did he truly not see how little she brought to society until she moved in? The thought of someone like her as First Lady of such a great nation made the hairs on the back of Coriolanus’ neck stand up. But he dug his grave, and now he was mere weeks from laying in it.

——

Dinner with Livia was as dull as usual. Coriolanus felt it would take a miracle for her to hold a genuinely intellectual conversation, she’d always tilt her head and giggle like a toddler, or drawl on about some useless capitol gossip; things Coriolanus had no patience for. The sound of his voice was nails on a chalk board, and his patience for her was wearing thin already.

“I’m hiring a new maid, I think it’s best.” He says coldly to whatever useless but of information his fiancée was babbling about. He was hoping perhaps she’d give insight, or best case scenario she’d offer to clean instead, but he should’ve known better.

“Sounds great, I’ve noticed that it’s been a bit dusty around here” Livia giggled, her laughter making it impossible for Coriolanus to want to do anything but hit her over the head with a candlestick.

That night, the feeling of arms shaking around him was what greeted him in bed. “Coriolanus..” a familiar scratching voice cooed into his ear. He knew what she wanted before she said it, and it was the only thing he’d been pushing back hard on. Sex.

“Really Livia? I’m tired” he grumbled and pulled her off of him, her touch lingering like a disease.

“Please? I’ll just blow you then, I just want something Coriolanus! We’re getting married soon and we haven’t done anything!” She was right, he didn’t what to was the thing, but the way a woman was begging to get him off appealed to the human desire in his DNA. He was a man after all, and it was his right to receive pleasure.

“Fine, I’ll let you blow me. But that’s it.” He grunted and sat up, pulling the covered off of his body and grabbing her, roughly forcing her to her knees on the side of the bed. Coriolanus grumbled something incoherent and yanked down his boxers, his dick was barely hard, so he jerked it a few times before grabbing his otherwise useless fiancées jaw and forcing her mouth onto his cock.

“Is that what you wanted yeah? Slut.” He hissed and took a right hold of her hair. He figured he could get used to this, at least she was mediocre at something, and maybe over time he’d start to enjoy it more. He fucked all the frustration he felt with her into her throat, not caring at all about the hot tears streaming down her cheeks, or the gagging sounds she was eliciting as his fat tip bullied the back of her abused throat.

Cumming down Livias throat, he groaned and pulled his cock out of her mouth. Slapping her reddened face with his softening dick. “Swallow it bitch” he commanded and stood up, pulling up his pajama pants and climbing right back into bed, not caring at all what Livias doing as long as she’s quiet, not a single positive thought about her crosses his mind before he’s pulled into the clutches of sleep.

——

Coriolanus had barely skimmed the applications for maid, picking the one he felt was most suitable, young, semi-important family, and good enough looking, that’s all that Coriolanus needed to be honest. Perhaps she could be someone else to take his anger out on, it’s just a woman after all, they’re replaceable.

The young president was looking out of his big windows when a poised knock and slight creek of the door caught his attention, it was his assistant, Basil. “Sir? The maid that you hired is here to meet you per your request.” He politely reminded.

“Thank you Basil. Send her here please.” Coriolanus replied and sat down at his large desk, leaning back and waiting to simply hire whatever young woman he had employed and get in with his day.

The rhythmic clack clack clack of heals down the hall was both intriguing and confusing for Coriolanus, Livia didn’t walk like that, perhaps this maid wasn’t a lost cause, and oh was he correct. You opened the door gently and walked in, the aura you carried was that of a divine presence, you looked so young, so corruptible, and Coriolanus couldn’t help but salivate at the thought of destroying that youthful innocence.

He could tell you had made yourself considerably more presentable for this meeting.. your lips were rosy and your hair was long and shiny. The simple but elegant dress you wore was simply too much, Coriolanus found himself wanting to bend this new aphrodisiac of a stranger over his desk, but he refrained for the sake of professionalism.

“You must be Y/N, nice to meet you. Since I’m employing you, you may call me Coriolanus. I also have a-“ he almost chucked in the word “-Fiancée, her name is Livia. Any questions? I’m a very busy man.” He said as he propped his legs up on his desk to hide his growing boner.

“Not at all, thank you Mr. President” your voice was intoxicating, the sweetest drug, and Coriolanus decided right there that he would stop at nothing to indulge in it. He almost corrected the you as you called him by his title and not his name, but the way you said ‘Mr President’ almost made him cum in his pants. A crude and disgusting idea flashed through his mind.

“Perfect. Well, it’s customary for the maids to wear clothes of a traditional French maid, I expect your measurements by tomorrow so I can have your work uniform made as soon as possible.” He was lying through his teeth, but he needed an excuse to know more about you, and a uniform he could make slutty was the perfect way he could be exposed to the newfound object of his desires more easily.

“I understand President Snow, I’ll have them in by tomorrow” you were shaking visibly, Coriolanus surmised it was due to the kind of job working for the president had to offer, or perhaps he himself is an intimidating presence.

“Wonderful. You’ll start work next Monday. I’ll get you aquatinted with the rest of the staff, and of course with Livia as well” He leaned back and almost scoffed at the name. Who was she to you? She’d never hold a candle to your beauty, to your obedience.

“Wonderful, thank you for your time Mr. President.” You stood up and didn’t even take a step before a deep command left the politicians throat.

“Call me Coriolanus.” It wasn’t a question, a mere suggestion. It was a command, one he expected you to follow.

“Yes of course, sorry sir-Coriolanus!” You were visibly flustered as you left his office, and he didn’t even try to hide that his eyes were glued to your round ass as you walked away.

——

A maid for the president, that was your job now, only to keep the house clean. It was easy right? That reassurance swirled around your head like milk in a bowl, the president was surprisingly kind, and surprisingly hot. But right now your job was to the clean the mansion, and after a brief introduction with his other staff, you went to one of the wings and looked out for where he said your uniform would be.

On a table in a small lounge was a small bouquet of flowers, a bag that looked of a luxury clothing store, and a card addressed to you. Upon opening the box inside the bag, you were greeted with a typical maids outfit yes; but it seemed much sexier than you would’ve thought would be appropriate. But who are you to say ‘no’ to the president?

The card was short, telling you what parts to clean and parts to avoid, where all the cleaning stuff resided, and how to reach Coriolanus if need be. Along with the information was a key to the mansion, and a keycard for anything that may be restricted (and not so subtle warnings annoy what would happen if either privileges were to be abused) With all said and done, you went and changed to start on your work day.

——

“Who are you?” An entitled voice said from behind you, her tone like someone who just witnessed a person puke. You stopped dusting for a moment and turned around, this lady looked at you like something on the bottom of her boot.

“Hello ma’am, I’m Y/N. Coriolanus hired me as a maid, you must be his fiancée Livia, I’m honored to meet you.” Your reply was kind, despite the obvious lack of kindness from this stranger whose house you were cleaning.

“Oh, my bad, I didn’t realize you’d be so.. provocative” she snarled and rolled his eyes at you. Reaching one of her hands out and knocking over a small vase of flowers, the glass cracking and water spilling. “Oops!” She taunted smirked. “Well? Aren’t you supposed to be cleaning?” She jeered and giggled, walking away as you sighed in both defeat at her actions, and relief that she was going already.

——

To say Coriolanus was fuming would be a severe understatement. What was supposed to be a perfect opportunity to spy on his new eye-candy of a maid in her perfectly pornographic outfit was soiled by his entitled brat of a fiancée. Looking at her made him ill, how could she? How dare she? Her actions were only solidifying her spot on his shit list, as to which she was a repeat offender.

The aftermath made it slightly better, the image of you on your hands and knees, sweeping up broken glass, made Coriolanus harder than he had ever been. And he may or not have snapped a few pictures of you bend over various surfaces.

The young president say in his bed much past after he usually would go to sleep, Livia passed out next him. He slowly palmed his boxers to the thought of you and your outfit, imagining that he was pushing you against the table and fucking your tight cunt.

“f—oh fuck..” he sucked in air as he began to tease his tip with his thumb, thinking about how he’d wrap his veiny hand around your throat and use you like a fleshlight, fucking you hard fast with his fat cock. He imagined how it would feel if you were riding him, fat ass in his grip and tits on perfect display he stroked up and down his dick as the image become more real, the want for your little pussy became unbearable. Coriolanus almost came when he imagined not even stepping you of your maid outfit, simply cumming inside and forcing you to clean while his seed pooled in your cunt.

Close to orgasm and pathetically desperate to cum in a warm pussy, Coriolanus ripped the blankets off of his sleeping fiancée. She wouldn’t care, at least he didn’t care if she did, and a clean tear of her panties granted him access to her, surprisingly wet, pussy.

It was easier to imagine it was you, the darkness and ability to shiver her face in a pillow really helped. He eased his fat tip inside her sleeping pussy, and began to sloppily thrust; not caring about anything but finishing.

“Coriolanus..?” A sleepy voice murmured, only to be taken breathless by a slap.

“Shut the fuck up you slutty bitch, let me use your pussy, fuck! And- then you can sleep-!” He grunted through sloppy thrusts and lewd squelches. His large hand went up to her mouth, allowing her no room to talk or complain.

Coriolanus came quickly to the thought of being buried in your pussy. The image of his milky cum dropping girl your puffy lips, coating your clit with his cream. He quickly pulled out of the pliant body of his fiancée and took his hand of her mouth. He rolled over and the strongest wave of clarity hit his system.

How the fuck was he going to survive being around you?

Taglist!

@daenerysqueenofhearts @caramelandvenus @yoursrosie @wearemadeofstardust0 @kay-lla @mrsriddlenott @sleekervae @ianales @qoopeeya

[crowsofdarkness]

Soldat: Chapter Four

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader. Slight Steve Rogers x Female Agent! Reader

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, kidnapping, violence.

Summary: Agent Y/N has worked alongside Steve Rogers at SHIELD for some time all while keeping a dark secret from everyone. Until one day that darkness faces her head on and she's forced to make a choice. Continue fighting along side Captain America? Or find her home once again with Soldat?

Authors Note: This was originally published on my old blog as a trilogy so I will be in the slow process of adding it to this blog. This is the first of the trilogy and will take place during The Winter Soldier. If anyone is interested in being tagged, let me know!

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox

Soldat Masterlist

“Steve told me you were a pilot,” I scoffed towards Sam. 

We were sitting at a table outside of a restaurant, waiting for our target to walk out. Steve and Nat were a few blocks over, waiting for word from us when we would be moving. 

Sam laughed, “I never said pilot.”

“Is it hard to fly?” I questioned with curiosity. 

“You get the hang of it after a while. And no, I will not teach you how to fly it,” Sam said. 

I faked pouted while I crossed my arms. “You’re no fun.”

He went silent only for a moment before he spoke, all jokes aside. “I know we just met and my opinions don’t matter but we’re bound to see him again. I just want to make sure you’re one hundred percent on taking him down. Like Steve said, he killed someone you all looked up to.” 

I nodded. “Can I be honest with you?” 

When Sam nodded, I continued. “I don’t know if it was because of how dark it was on the roof but when we saw each other, he acted like he didn’t even know me.”

“How long has it been?” 

“Uh-a few years. Maybe I look different or something?” I muttered. 

Our attention snapped towards the restaurant as our target walked out, Sam immediately dialing a number on his phone. I sat in silence, placing my sunglasses over my eyes and sat back in the chair. 

Maybe that was the reason why he didn’t recognize me that night. It was dark and had been a few years since we saw each other but yet, my heart still dropped when the realization hit that he didn’t recognize me. Was I that easy to forget?

“Let’s move,” Sam said while standing up. 

“Steve, do we actually have a plan here or are we just kidnapping this guy?” I questioned from a spot in the middle of the back seat. 

We were driving along the highway, trying to make it to Shield Headquarters in time to stop the helicarriers. We had learned from Jasper Sitwell that Project Insight would be launching in less than twenty four hours and we suddenly found ourselves with a change of plans. 

Hydra’s plan for the helicarriers was to use them to eliminate millions of people who were any sort of threat to them. All thanks to Zola’s algorithm. 

“I’m thinking,” Steve said, not turning his attention towards me. 

His eyes were trained to the road ahead of us as Sam continued to drive. 

I had tried talking to Steve but he had ignored me; only saying that we would talk about this later. 

“Hydra doesn’t like leaks,” Sitwell informed us. 

“Then why don’t you try sticking a cork in it,” Sam snapped before changing lanes. 

“Insight is launching in sixteen hours,” Natasha pointed out leaning towards Steve, “We’re cutting it a little close here.” 

“I know. We’ll use him to bypass the DNA scans and access the helicarriers directly,” Steve directed to us. 

He finally looked over his shoulder to me, only briefly, and I gave him a small smile. The thought of my past with Soldat was still bothering him, I could tell by the way his jaw was clenched tight as he returned the smile. 

We'll talk later, I mouthed, promising that I would indulge more about my past to him. 

All he did was nod before looking out the front windshield again and I leaned against my seat noticing that Sitwell had an exasperated look on his face.

“Are you crazy? That is a terrible, terrible idea.” 

Suddenly, a loud thud from the top of the car sounded and I couldn’t help the small scream that left my throat as I watched Sitwell being pulled from the car window and tossed to the other side of the highway, immediately being hit by a semi. 

My eyes grew with horror as the quick flash of metal glimmered in front of me causing Natasha and I to jump towards the front of the car, her landing on Sam’s lap while I landed on Steve’s. Gunshots echoed through the small car and Steve wrapped his arms around my waist in a tight grip as he hastily put the car in park, causing the man to roll off the car. His metal fingers dragged along the pavement before coming to a stop a few feet away from us. 

“That’s him?” Steve whispered in my ear. 

My throat went dry, no words being able to come out so all I did was nod.

A car slammed into the back of ours, pushing it towards him. The Winter Soldier jumped over the hood of our car landing on top with a thud. Sam slammed on the brakes as my hand reached around for my gun and smiled in victory when I pulled it free. Aiming it to the roof of the car, I shot a few rounds. 

“Shit!” Sam screamed when the metal arm busted through the front windshield and ripped the wheel off with ease. 

It was Natasha’s turn to fire a few rounds and I looked over Steve’s shoulder as the soldier was riding on the hood of the car behind us. They slammed into us a few more times before Steve busted open the door, pulling us to safety as the car hit the median, rolling a few times and coming to a stop.

“Nat!” I bellowed as I watched her and Sam roll away from us while Steve and I were safely sitting on his shield that protected our fall. 

She gave me a small wave, indicating that they were alright, and Steve helped me to my feet and I watched his face distort in pain. 

“Are you hurt?” I asked. 

“I’m fine. You’re bleeding, though,” His fingers gently grazed over my forehead before showing me the blood that covered his hand. 

“I’ll live,” I shrugged and turned towards Sam and Nat who had caught up to us.  

We all watched as someone handed the soldier a grenade launcher and without a second thought, Steve pushed me out of the way, blocking the shot with his shield. 

“STEVE!” I screamed as I watched him fly off the bridge and straight through a bus. 

Suddenly, hundreds of bullets cascaded around us, Sam and Nat taking cover behind a van while I hid on the side of another car across the median. The bullets ricochet against the metal of cars and my body shivered when one flew past my face, my hair flowing with the wind. 

My eyes scanned my surroundings, trying to avoid any of the flying bullets, and after fighting with my consciousness, I ran out from behind the car and jumped over the median to the opposite way of traffic. Thankfully with everything going on, cars had decided to exit the freeway long before reaching us. 

Weaving my way in and out of the cars that were there, I dared to glance over my shoulder and watched in fear as he launched a grenade at the car in front of me. The heat of the fire engulfed me as the power of the blast sent me flying over the bridge, me landing somewhat safely on an abandoned car. 

“Fuck,” I groaned, feeling the wind get knocked out of me. 

I laid there for a split second as the pain slowly subsided, wondering why he still couldn’t recognize me. My heart was breaking, realizing that the memories of us might have meant nothing to him. 

“Now’s not the time to be a little bitch, Y/N.” I cursed to myself before rolling off of the car. 

I ran with a small limp, knife clenched tight in my hand, as I waved people away from the scene. 

“Get away! Get back!” I ordered. “It’s not safe!”

Seeing his shadow from the bridge above me, I came to a halt, aiming my gun towards him. I breathed as the bullet hit exactly where I wanted; his goggles. 

Not daring to stay back, I scurried over to a fallen bus as I fired a few more rounds behind me, not sure if it was a direct hit this time. I continued to run as fast as I could, hoping I would find Steve soon. 

“Fuck!” I screamed out in pain when I felt a bullet rip through my thigh, sending me plummeting to the hard ground. 

Biting back the tears, I slowly but hurriedly dragged my limp body over to the car in front of me. I leaned back against it, allowing the coldness of it to cool down my warm body. Glancing down to the wound in my leg, I let out a few large breaths before a guttural scream scratched its way out of my throat as I plunged my finger in the wound, fishing out the bullet with little to no ease. 

“Damn it, Steve. Where are you?!” I sobbed, tears brimming my eyes. 

If anyone saw me crying right now they would be appalled. Big, tough, Shield Agent, former FBI special ops, former swat member, was crying over a man? I wasn’t crying over a man, per say. I was crying at the thought that Steve was in fact right. If this truly was him, what I had known about Soldat was just a lie. 

Without warning, more rapid gunfire sounded in front of me and I watched almost in defeat as someone jumped out of the bus, my spirits lifting only a tad. 

“Steve!” I gasped slowly rising to my feet. 

He looked over his shoulder after blocking the shots with his shield and ran over towards me, immediately throwing my arm over his broad shoulders. 

“Are you alright?” He cooed. 

“For now,” I admitted. 

The bullets continued to bounce off the shield as Steve and I tried to find safety. 

“Stay close,” Steve ordered. 

Obeying, I gripped his shirt as we started making our way towards the men that were shooting at us. One of the men to my right fell to the ground, gun clattering away from him. Looking up to the overpass, I gave a small wave of thanks to Sam who had clearly been watching our backs. Steve knocked the last shooter to his feet before coming to my side again. We both looked up to Sam. 

“Go! I got this!” He yelled. 

Nodding, Steve wrapped an arm around my waist while mine snacked its way around his neck and I tried my best to hold the majority of my weight as we tried to gain our surroundings, looking for Natasha. 

“Over there!” I pointed when I saw the soldier had his gun aim at Natasha and was about to pull the trigger. 

Steve ran towards him and I watched as the two fought. Shield vs knife. My leg dragged behind me while I used the last bit of my strength to help Natasha off of the ground. 

“You’re shot,” she observed. 

“No shit,” I groaned, feeling the sudden rush of blood run down my leg. 

We both watched Steve as he tried to land punch after punch to the soldier, always coming up empty. We watched in fear as they continued to fight, Steve throwing the soldier over his shoulder, the mask rolling a few yards away. 

My body went rigid as he slowly turned around, his unmasked face meeting ours. Blood flooded in my ears while my mouth ran dry, trying to find the right words to say. 

He stood a few feet in front of me and he looked exactly the same. Those eyes that haunted my dream for months were suddenly in front of me and everything around me vanished. I wanted nothing more than to walk into his arms. 

“Soldat?” I breathed. 

“Bucky?” Steve questioned at the same time. 

I snapped my eyes over to him, my heart getting caught in my throat at the mention of that name. “Bucky? As in best friend who you thought fell off a train seventy years ago, Bucky?” 

“Y/N, this is Soldat?” Steve croaked, realizing that the man who had saved my life years ago was his best friend. 

“Who the hell is Bucky?” Soldat questioned Steve before his gaze softened on me. “How do you know me?” 

“You don’t remember me?” I blinked, surprised. “Russia. 2009. Zola.” 

Soldat’s eyes bounced back and forth between Steve and I. 

“Y/N,” he whispered, “I know that name.” 

I nodded, hoping he would remember, however, The Winter Soldier returned as fast as he had disappeared and raised his gun to shoot but Sam came flying in, literally, and knocked Bucky a few feet away from me. 

He quickly stood and stared at Steve, something unreadable coming across his features. He lifted the gun again but was stopped when Nat got a hold of the grenade launcher, sending one off in our direction. 

We all jumped out of the way in different directions, me rolling far away from Steve. 

“Y/N, watch out!” 

Hearing Steve’s voice, I looked behind me, my scream being muffled by a pair of leather gloves while my body was being dragged away from my friends. My wounded leg dragged along the ground as I tried to kick my captor with my good leg. 

My efforts were useless as my body was spun around, eyes locked with one of the gunmen working with Soldat. 

“Get in the van. Now.” 

I continued to fight against him. “Let me go!”

“He wants you,” the gunmen struggled against my punches and kicks. 

My fighting seized when I felt a blow to the back of my head causing my body to go limp against his chest.  

[wandasaura]

MY FACE IN A RED FLUSH

summary — your first mistake was thinking natasha wouldn’t use the time away to tease you, your second mistake was thinking you could handle it

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, smut, sexting, phone sex, teasing, fingering, nipple stimulation, degradation, praise, daddy kink, dom/sub relationship, bathroom encounter (nothing like… bad bad), begging, threats of punishment, wanda slaps r’s ass ;), the idiots banter but what’s new

authors note — i got carried away with this but hey, we got some development between wanda and r going on at least, also some insight to wandanats relationship and their dynamic + how the contract came about

you are in love universe

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff ✧

Natasha was going to be gone on business for two full weeks. You’d expected the hardest part of that fact to be how you were sure to miss her, but you were severely mistaken. When day ten came around, and she still wasn’t home, you weren’t at all surprised to find that the several notifications waiting for your attention were all from her. She’d been doing her best to keep you informed in regards to her plans and meetings, and for the most part, she’d been behaving herself well, but the first glance at her messages had effortlessly set your mood for the remainder of the day. 

Natasha | Daddy misses you, angel. 

Natasha | I bet that sweet pussy misses me too. 

Natasha | image attached 

You couldn’t help but audibly groan when you opened your iMessages. It was instinctual, you never wanted to leave her messages unanswered, but you regretted your urgency to appease her the second you came face to face with her visibly damp panties and toned thighs that had acquired quite the tan since shipping off to the tropical island just over a week and a bit ago. The deep red material that you were all too familiar with was an even deeper shade of maroon now, so damp that it molded to the shape of her labia, and the bulge of her clitoris was captivating. A throb shot through your own core as you fantasized about taking care of her little situation with your mouth, tonguing at her panties until she got so annoyed with your teasing that she tore them in two and forced your head in close, but she was a thousand miles away, and you were under strict instructions not to touch yourself without her permission. 

For a second, you questioned if Wanda had received the same image. If she had, which you were absolutely certain she did, you knew that the lawyer was rightfully hot and bothered, but you doubted she had the same rules as you. Wanda did not seem the type to submit, even if it meant appeasing her wife. After all, there would be no need for you in their relationship if she allowed Natasha to take the reins every once in a while, and you found yourself envious of the woman who could relieve herself at any chance. 

You whined at the deep ache in your core, your panties positively ruined beyond a point of salvation when another image rolled through, though this time, she’d taken away your privilege of seeing her well defined lips and clit, however, she’d replaced what you’d lost with the sight of her hand buried in the material. It was her left hand, and the diamond on the center of her engagement ring pressed against the tight materials of her panties. You’d always found it exceptionally hot to be fucking a married woman with consent from her partner, but something about seeing her touch herself with the very hand that Wanda had kissed with adoration in front of all of their family and friends was truly vulgar. She wasn’t playing fair at all, but you suspected she had never intended to make this easy for you. 

You | Daddy

It was a simple response, one that in no way encapsulated the millions of scenarios running through your head, but you had no other words to share with her. Not when you’d only just woken up and your sole interest was devouring her. You’d never been particularly good at communication, especially not when it came to sexual circumstances, but god did Natasha love to make you work for it. It shouldn’t have come as any surprise to you that she would pull a stunt like this, but you supposed your naivety was what captivated her so ferociously. 

Natasha | Yes, angel? See something you like?

You | You. 

You | Daddy, please. 

Natasha | Please, what? Don’t you have a class to get to, I wouldn’t want to make you late. Get ready for school, moya lyubov. 

Natasha | image attached

She was really playing dirty now. The unspoken promise that you wouldn’t be allowed to touch yourself felt like pure torture, but that had only worsened the blow for when the next picture rolled in seconds later. You’d half expected it to follow the saga of the others; some kind of display in regards to her dripping core and drenched panties. Would she pull them off to the side and bury two or maybe even three fingers into her pleading hole? Or perhaps she would take them off completely and give you an unconstructed glimpse of her cunt. You had been good afterall, Wanda hadn’t relayed any instances of bratty behavior to your knowledge, so she had every reason to reward you. Clearly she was not feeling generous, because the picture you were confronted with at seven o’six in the morning was of her naked chest, and just slightly off-screen you could make out the straps of her favorite lacy red bra. Her nipples were pebbled, undoubtable from the combination of her arousal and the broken thermostat in her suite, and they were a color that attempted to resemble a pinky-mauve. Her manicured fingers pinched at the left bud, but her right remained untouched and begging for the same attention. Her back was arched, leaning into the pain, and while you couldn’t see her shoulders, you could image the tanlines that graced her unblemished skin. 

You | You’re not playing fair, Daddy

Natasha | I don’t have to play fair, malyshka. I suggest you start getting ready for class, and I would think twice about trying to touch yourself before I give you permission. 

Your lips, already in a pout, had seemed to turn even more downward at her blatant disregard for your sanity. You’d just barely survived nine days without her touch and now, on the tenth, she decided to make that worse by teasing you? Even if she did decide to give you permission, nobody, including you, could make you cum the way she did. It would be foolish to even try and compete with her skills. 

You | I can always skip 

Natasha | I find out you skipped and you won’t be cumming until summer break 

Your heart plummeted faster than a free falling elevator at the implication of spending the next four and a half weeks without an orgasm, especially because you knew that just because she wouldn’t push you over the edge, didn’t mean she wouldn’t tease you and work you up to that point. She would make your life an absolute living hell if you gave her the chance, and that was not a fire you wanted to play with, not now and not ever. 

You | I’m going! 

Natasha | That’s what I thought. Good girl. 

Begrudgingly you pulled yourself out of bed and shuffled over to your duffle bag of clothes in the corner of the room. Ever since the night of the sixth day, when you’d crashed into Wanda’s arms and ratted out your professor, you’d been sleeping at the Maximoff residence. The Sokovian lawyer didn’t seem to be minding your presence, or at least, she hadn’t told you that she minded, but you still tried your best to tiptoe around her. She was always up before you, always in the kitchen when you ventured down the stairs in an outfit that was progressively getting shorter and shorter as the weather warmed. She had breakfast waiting for you most days, and if she didn’t, there was a note on the countertops that said she was already at the office and hadn’t wanted you to eat cold food. She didn’t need to know that on those days, you didn’t have any breakfast at all. On the morning of the eighth, she learned that you hate oatmeal. You’d tried your best to eat it all, or at least an amount that would appease her, but after you gagged for the third time, she pulled the bowl away from your face and scolded you for not saying something the second she put it down in front of you. It was weird. Neither one of you really sought the other out, but when you did cross paths, the atmosphere wasn’t as cold and dark. 

It wasn’t as warm as it had been in recent days, so you took full advantage of the wind and the gloomy skies to wiggle your body into a pair of black leggings and one of Natasha’s hoodies that had been left laying around. You adored the start of spring and the mid-summer warmth, but you detested the fact that when those days came, you wouldn’t get to wear the womens clothes as frequently. You supposed you could always steal some of her t-shirts, but there hadn’t been much opportunity to do so yet. 

Wanda was in the kitchen that morning, much to your delight. She wasn’t Natasha, you don’t know if she’ll ever mean as much to you as Natasha does, but you liked the simple fact that the house felt lived in when she was around. Her presence served as a distraction from the icky wetness collecting in your panties, and yes, you had changed them only minutes ago, but nothing could stop the floodgates until Natasha allowed you even the slightest fraction of relief.  

“Your wife is mean.” You didn’t bother with pleasantries, didn’t even bother to look her in the eye as you walked your way to her fridge and pulled out the pitcher of orange juice. It had become sort of a routine. Wanda made breakfast for the both of you and you got the drinks. You liked having little responsibilities, because even if you knew that you were more than welcome here, you felt the need to earn your keep. 

“My wife, huh? Thought she was your Daddy.” Wanda snorted, but the clench in her jaw was enough of an indication that she had received the same messages and wasn’t completely lost on the reason why you were pawning Natasha off so easily. You were annoyed to find that she was handling the teasing better than you. You were absolutely certain that your entire body was as jagged as a sharp rock, and petulantly, you hoped that Natasha stubbed her toe on the way to her next meeting. 

“Nope. You can have her. She’s being a tease.” You huffed, bracing your hands on the edge of the counter before you scooted back into a comfortable position against the floating cabinets. Well, as comfortably as possible with the ache between your thighs that you were trying your absolute hardest not to mess with, even though it would be so easy to cross your legs and hope to god that it did something to relieve you. Wanda seemed to appreciate your restraint, because she sent you a soft smile in return and didn’t say anything about you sitting on her counters. 

“Oh, I know.” Wanda puffed out a breath of air, the first indication that maybe she wasn’t handling the situation well, just better at hiding her frustration. “Little brat doesn’t know what to do with herself when she’s away for so long.” 

You’d never heard Natasha be called anything of the sort, and the admission of her role in the bedroom had brought back your curiosity. Deciding that you couldn’t possibly get in trouble for being curious, you kicked your feet against the cabinets beneath your dangling legs and looked over at Wanda. “Can I ask you a question?” 

“If you stop kicking my cabinets.” The lawyer looked at you in exasperation, entirely unimpressed with your fidgeting, though she wasn’t angry. You were thankful for that, because the combination of academic stress and sexual teasing had you restless in all fronts. 

“Do you let Natty top you?” You smiled shyly once the words had passed your lips, hoping that it would soften the blow once Wanda processed your question. You weren’t sure if you had a close enough relationship with her to be asking such a thing, but over the last few weeks, you’d really started to wonder how they’d even come to the consensus of opening their relationship to a third party. 

Wanda looked at you incredulously, but she shook her head anyway. “No. Why the question? You’re usually running in the opposite direction anytime we ask you something sexual.” 

As if your body was trying to prove a point, your cheeks flushed scarlet and you dropped your gaze down to your lap, eliciting a chuckle out of Wanda. “I dunno. You don’t seem the type to submit, and Natty is being a brat. Guess I was just wondering about the contract. How you came up with it and all.” 

“Have you talked to Nat about this? Seems you’ve got a lot on your mind.” Wanda hummed, her attention focused on the eggs she was scrambling, though you knew the real reason she was so focused was because she didn’t want to overwhelm you when you had finally gotten the courage to speak to her about this type of thing. She wasn’t wrong. Any other time she’d ever mentioned your sexual relationship with her wife you ran in the other direction, or you retorted with something rude just to get her off your back. She wasn’t as blind to that last detail as you thought she was. 

“Not a lot.” You protested immediately, not wanting it to come across like you were rethinking this situation. “Her ring was… very visible in the second picture she sent. You’re married. Very happily from what I’ve seen. If anyone else that I know were in this situation, they’d think I was a homewrecker or something.” 

“Is that how you feel?” Wanda frowned, her attention still on the eggs she was scrambling, but she was quickly running out of alternatives to focus on as they reached they perfect consistency. 

“No! Nat’s too in love with you to ever do something that would upset you. If you weren’t okay with her… using me… then she would’ve ended things already.” 

“Honey, we both know Natasha is not using you. That woman is just as devoted to you as she is to me, but you’re right, she wouldn’t jeopardize our marriage. The contract was my idea. You were my idea. Natasha would be more than happy to submit to me for the rest of our lives if I wasn’t okay with this, but I know that she needs the control as much as I do. We make sacrifices for our partners every day. A marriage is not a one way street.” Wanda smiled softly, nudging your thigh when she realized you were sitting right in front of the cabinet she kept the plates on. 

“Why are you okay with me then?” You frowned, having even more questions now then you originally did. Wanda had said that Natasha was devoted to you in the same way she is with Wanda. Does that mean she feels the same as you do? Are your feelings not as unrequited as you’d been forcing yourself to believe? 

“You make her happy.” There was something more on the tip of her tongue, something heavy and potentially earth-shattering, but you didn’t press her to share. She was already sharing more than enough with you, and you appreciated her honesty even if it was filtered. “Anymore questions from the peanut gallery, or can we eat our breakfast before you’re late to class?” 

“No more questions.” You hopped off the counter, grinning cheekily when you saw Wanda wince out of your peripheral vision. “Would you tell her if I skipped class?” 

“Are you sick?” Wanda quirked a single eyebrow in your direction, her hands full of plates as she carried eggs and pancakes toward the dining room table. You grabbed the pitcher of juice and two glasses, following her like a lost duckling despite knowing your way around. 

“Does horny count as sick?” You asked, only receiving a huff of laughter and a firm shake of the head as a response. 

-

If you thought your morning had been difficult to handle, your afternoon was even worse. You shifted uncomfortably at your desk, trying to get your cold and sticky panties away from your sensitive core, while simultaneously listening to your professor drone on and on about sentence translations and truth tables. Everytime you moved, you achieved the exact opposite of what you wanted. Your panties were so wet they clung to your pussy, and with each shift of hips and press of your thighs, a pulse of pleasure shot up through your belly and only worsened your situation. 

Typically, you sat in the very front row in all of your lectures. You were what others would call a teacher's pet, always raising your hand and answering questions, always assuring that you understood the objectives of an assignment, but today, you had chosen a desk in the back row closest to the wall. Your laptop was turned away from the student on your right, and although your notes were opened, and words had been added to the document that you’d started at the beginning of the semester, your iMessages were open just beside it. 

Natasha | Daddy wants your mouth, princess. You’d be good and give me your mouth wouldn’t you? I know how much you love to be on your knees for me 

Natasha | video attached 

You knew you shouldn’t open it, not when it was so clearly a video of her masturbating if the preview shot was any indication of its content. You knew you should just turn all of your devices on Do Not Disturb and focus on the professor, who was going over questions about the latest chapter assigned as homework, but all logical thoughts, ironic because you were currently in your advanced logics lecture, had completely fallen away from you. It had been eleven hours of teasing. Eleven hours of wet panties and sensitive nipples and Natasha’s pussy in your face but not actually. It had been eleven full hours of pure torture, and you were at your breaking point.

You closed your laptop softly, making the humbling decision to shuffle past all the other students in your row to excuse yourself to the bathroom. You’re sure it looked like you were having some kind of female emergency with how fast you were moving, but in a way, you were. Only, it wasn’t a result of a miscalculated period, but rather an evil dominant who had worked you up so horridly that you were willing to sacrifice your academics just to beg her for release. 

The private bathroom was located in the basement, you had to shuffle down three flights of stairs just to reach it, but you would die before you got caught sexting in the bathroom on the same floor as your lecture, so you hurried down to the basement and hoped that it was free. At least some higher power was looking out for you, because you found that the light was off and when you knocked on the door, nobody had answered. You squirmed your way inside, locking the door before you pulled open your messages and played the video. 

It was short, only ten seconds, but in that ten seconds you had seen the beginning of a beautiful orgasm. Natasha’s fingers hammered into her pussy, the palm of her hand making contact with her clit every time she pushed three of her fingers back into herself. Her arousal coated the digits in thick strings, and when she’d cum, when she pushed herself over the edge, you groaned aloud at not only the moan that tumbled past her lips, but the sight of her orgasm spilling around her fingers. You had seen Natasha squirt on a handful of occasions. Usually it happened when she had you eating her out time and time again. You wondered how long she’d been laid in bed for to have reached such a high, and briefly you wondered if Wanda had anything to do with it. There was not a doubt in your mind that Wanda was just as much a tease as Natasha, and the prospect of the most powerful women you know going back and forth so desperately caused another violent pang of pleasure to shoot through your core. 

You pushed your pants down, letting them scrunch together at your ankles, not caring about how they brushed against the bathroom floor. You were too desperate to mind the germs, but they would be going in the garbage the second you got back to the Maximoff residence. For now, they’d just have to be fine. 

You widened your stance just enough to get your camera between your thighs. The baby blue panties that you wore were absolutely drenched, beyond the state of Natasha’s if that were even possible. Every inch of your intimacy was a visible outline from how they pressed against you, and while you should’ve been embarrassed, you hadn’t even been touched and you were the wettest you’ve probably ever been, you didn’t care. 

You | image attached 

You | Look what you did, Daddy. 

Natasha | Oh, I bet that feels so icky, baby 

You | Please let me touch myself 

Natasha | My dirty little slut wants to touch herself in a public bathroom? She can’t even wait until she gets home? 

You | I’ve been waiting all day! Please Daddy, it aches! 

You | image attached 

You should’ve felt shame. You should’ve been disgusted with your desperation, but there wasn’t even an ounce of care left in you as you pulled your panties to the side. Two of your fingers swept through your folds, collecting arousal on the tips of your fingers. They glistened in the light, and much like Natasha’s arousal had done in the video she sent, strings of your need attached your dripping cunt to your digits. You hadn’t touched yourself, not technically at least. Your clit throbbed in protest when you narrowly avoided it, and it took all of your self restraint not to throw caution to the wind and give yourself the slightest bit of relief. You would much rather appease Natasha though, and so you hadn’t even made the briefest moment of contact. 

Natasha | Oh that does look like quite the sticky situation, baby. Why don’t you be a good girl for Daddy and suck those fingers clean 

You moaned at her words, even if they were just white letters on your phone screen. You could practically hear her voice in your head, requesting you to taste yourself for her, asking you to be good. You complied without hesitance, bringing your fingers up to your mouth, your tongue out and waiting for the treat even if you would much rather it be her you're tasting. Before you let them lay heavy on your tongue, you took a picture and sent it to her, because if you were going to be vulgar in your college bathroom, it needed to be for something. You tasted how you always do, but you forced yourself to imagine it was her lips you were tasting and not your own fingers. She loved making out after she had gone down on you, and secretly, so did you. 

Natasha | Good girl. 

Natasha | Those fingers all nice and clean? 

You | Yes, Daddy

Natasha | Good. Pull your panties back up and wash your hands, baby. You’ve still got thirty minutes left of class. 

Your jaw practically hit the floor at her response, and you whined in defeat, not wanting to listen to her. You’d been so good for her all day and she was still making you wait? What could she possibly do from across the ocean anyways? Briefly, you’d forgotten about her promise of withholding orgasms until summer break, but when that threat came back to mind, you quickly did as asked, hating that now you were even more uncomfortable. This was supposed to help, not make everything worse. 

You | I want to play, Daddy!

Natasha | You’ve been good all day baby, don’t ruin it now. Panties up, hands washed. I want you back in class in the next three minutes if I’m even going to consider letting you edge yourself tonight 

Natasha | Or maybe you would like a ruined orgasm more

You | No! Please no Daddy! 

Natasha | Then you’ll go back to class and you won’t sneak away again. 

- 

The forty minute drive back to Westview felt like hours. By the time that you eventually pulled into the driveway and parked behind Natasha’s car, the days sunlight only lingering behind storm clouds now, your leggings were damp and clinging to your core just as uncomfortably as your panties had been for the last few hours. You were absolutely certain that if there weren’t two material barriers between your legs, that your car seats would be stained with evidence of your arousal. You’d have had a hard time explaining that the next time you got the vehicle detailed, but if that had been the case, you would’ve just burnt the entire car to avoid the looks of judgment you were sure to have received. 

The front door was unlocked when you entered, an indication that Wanda had only arrived home a couple minutes before you had. Ever since your appearance on the fifth day of Natasha’s absence, she’d started leaving the door unlocked for you, not wanting another repeat of you stuck outside. You knew it made her feel vulnerable, and at one point you had tried to tell that while you appreciated the thought, she could continue to lock the door after she got in. Wanda didn’t budge on the matter, not that you were surprised, and so you just had to accept the fact that the front door would remain open for anyone to pass through until you got inside to lock the house up tight. It amazed you how Natasha’s presence could mean so much. The woman could hold her own in a fight, you didn’t doubt that, but you hadn’t realized just how much Wanda put her safety into her hands. It only further solidified the already known fact that they were perfect for each other. 

Wanda was in the kitchen, already working on dinner, when you dropped your backpack on the floor and inched your way closer to her. The desperate ache between your legs was unbearable now, and every step reminded you of your unfulfilled desire. Wanda looked perfectly put together as she stood by the stove, stirring something in a pot that you hoped was sauce for her spaghetti. Even though you couldn’t see her face from where she was standing, it was clear in her posture that she was fairing well with Natasha’s teasing. You wondered if she had taken her pleasure into her own hands at some point during the day, or if she was once again just better than you at concealing her true feelings. 

“I take it back.” You muttered weakly, stealing the glass of water that the redhead had been just about to reach for. It was cold, probably fresh from the filter in the fridge, and you gulped it down greedily. “Your wife is the scary one.” 

Wanda laughed although you found nothing funny about this situation. “What did she threaten you with?” 

“Which time!” You threw your hands out in exasperation, careful to keep hold of the now empty glass so it didn’t smash into a million tiny shards on the floor if you were to lose your grip on it. “Because at first it was no orgasms until summer break! Then it was edging! And then it was ruined orgasms! I did exactly what she asked, and she’s still being all scary and mean! She sent me a video of her cumming while I was in class!”

“Did she now?” Wanda quirked a single brow in your direction, and you knew that you had gotten your dominant in trouble simply from the way her jaw clenched at the relay of information. In the months that you’ve been in this situation with Natasha, you learned that Wanda was serious about education, a real stickler even. She always droned on and on about the importance of paying attention and taking adequate notes, you should’ve known that she wouldn’t appreciate knowing her wife had distracted you with a video of her pleasure. 

“Um, no?” You tried to backtrack, tried to save Natasha’s ass even though she had done nothing in your favor since you’d woken up that morning. Your cheeks flushed as you avoided her eye, suddenly finding the floor much more interesting than her stare. 

“Wanna try that again?” Wanda hummed, but you knew it wasn’t really a choice. You’re pretty sure that you audibly gulped as you contemplated your options, ultimately deciding that if anybody's ass had to be on the line, you would rather it be Natashas. 

“She did.” You whispered. “But she made me go back to class! That’s when she threatened to make me edge myself or ruin my orgasm.” You added, your cheeks burning a fierce shade of red as you avoided Wanda’s eye. Both women found it cute how flushed you still got whenever anything even remotely kinky was discussed. Despite her annoyance, this moment was no exception.

Wanda hummed thoughtfully, nodding her head as if Natasha’s threat satisfied her. “Good. You shouldn’t have left class at all. I’d be making you spank yourself.”

“I– Do you– Do you make Natasha spank herself?” You spluttered over your words, hardly even able to imagine the redhead on the receiving end of a spanking.  

“No. Your Daddy enjoys that far too much.” Wanda laughed, almost as if she found your curiosity insulting to Natasha. You knew she had a pain kink, that was very much obvious when she asked you to pinch her nipples harder on the rare occasion that she made you ride her strap, but you couldn’t imagine enjoying a spanking that was intended to be a punishment. “You on the other hand, start running away from her hand by the fifth spank. You wouldn’t last three if I told you to do it yourself.” 

Despite your mortification at Wanda’s admission, a pang of arousal shot through your core at the thought of receiving a spanking, especially from her. You were quick to scrub that fantasy from your brain, not even wanting to entertain it. Even if you had moved past your hatred for her, you refused to admit that she was slowly growing on you. That was just too much to accept right now. 

“Stop!” You whined, hunching over the counter and attempting to hide your face against the cold counter. Your cheeks had had a permanent flush to them all day, no thanks to Natasha, but you were certain that they were fire engine red now. Even the tips of your ears carried a warmth that wouldn’t vanish until you found some relief, but Natasha had been radio silent since sending you back to class, and you almost wondered if she would even reappear again before she turned in for the night. You would kill her if she left you high and dry like this. 

A shriek of surprise left your lips at the sharp sensation that spread through your left ass cheek when Wanda’s palm collided with it over the thin fabric of your leggings. You’d only barely managed to contain your moan, but there’s no way she’d missed the way your knees threatened to buckle beneath you. Your back straightened instinctively and your head whipped around to find her, only to groan at the smirk of satisfaction on her lips at the sight of you. Your bottom lip was caught between your teeth, your eyes were dilated and almost entirely black, and your thighs, oh your thighs were the most telling. You pinched them together desperately, attempting to find any semblance of release. 

“What was that for?” You whined, your hand shooting back to rub at the spot that was beginning to ache. You wouldn’t be surprised if her handprint lingered on your skin well into the early hours of tomorrow morning. Your voice is painfully high pitched and needy despite your best efforts to keep your composure, and it merely makes Wanda laugh about the effect a simple spank has on you. 

“Who said I needed a reason?” Wanda shrugged her shoulders, but there was something wicked in her eyes. “You’ve had plenty of questions for me today, who says I don’t have my own?” 

“You could’ve just asked!” You stomped your foot, officially at your breaking point with their combined teasing. Your eyes glimmered with unbridled tears, and your core throbbed needily, but neither of them seemed too concerned with your desperation, not enough to stop at least. “I’m going to change.” You pouted, stomping past Wanda, abandoning your backpack to be dealt with later. 

-

Hours later, you found yourself laid in bed, your eyes wide in disbelief as you laid on your back and tried your hardest to keep your hands still at your sides. You and Wanda had eaten dinner in near silence, but the spaghetti was good, and you’d helped with the dishes afterward. Neither of you were feeling rather talkative, and that could be chalked up with the fact that Natasha had started her shit again. She poked at Wanda first, and you were thankful for the break of being her center of attention. The lawyer's phone had buzzed from where it was kept in her backpocket during meals if she was wearing jeans. Both of you knew who it was, and Wanda had reached for her phone without a moment of hesitation. It seemed that the both of you were properly whipped for the Russian, because had that text been from anyone else Wanda would’ve ignored it until dinner was over and conversations were finished. It had taken her only a matter of seconds to get into her phone, and you knew it must’ve been sexual based on the way her cheeks flushed and she furiously typed back a response. You were curious about what Natasha had sent her, curious about if you were receiving the same messages throughout the day, but you didn’t have to wait for much longer because your phone pinged next, and Wanda shot you a low warning beneath her breath. 

That had been two hours ago, and since then, Natasha had disappeared, leaving you with only strict orders not to touch yourself and the lingering promise of getting your reward soon. You were naked in the guest bed, dripping onto the sheets beneath your body, writhing in anticipation. The house had been silent since both you and Wanda finished dinner, but now the house was filled with her moans. Her moans. Wanda's moans. You’ve seen her and Natasha makeout before. You’ve heard her shakily exhale, groan aloud, you’ve even heard her curse out profanities in Russian when Natasha did something particularly seductive, but you’ve never heard her moan. That felt too intimate, too wrong, but now that you were hearing them you couldn’t deny how sweet they sounded. Was she fingering herself? Was she using a vibrator or fucking a dildo so deep into her pussy that she could feel every groove and crevice against her walls? Were the sheets wet with arousal beneath her body like they were yours, or could she somehow manage to avoid leaking like a waterfall at just a whisper of praise from Natasha? The list of endless possibilities that could be occurring in the room next to yours were driving you mad, and the longer you were forced to listen to her chase her release, only amplified the cravings for your own pleasure. 

You blindly reached out for your phone, squinting when it initially blinded you before your eyes adjusted to the light. You opened Natasha’s contact quickly,ready to plead and beg and cry for her to give in. 

You | I can hear Wanda 

You | Please Daddy, can I touch myself? I’ve been so good, please 

Natasha | Aw, is hearing Wanda moan turning you on, princess? 

You | Yes! Please Daddy! I want to cum, please! 

You almost sobbed in relief when your screen flashed with Natasha’s contact picture, and you didn’t hesitate to raise the phone to your ear after you had swiped to accept the call. Her gravely voice was soft, too soft, soft enough to suggest that she knew damn well how frustrated and desperate you were for her, and that she was simultaneously aware of how it was all her fault. You thought for a second that she felt bad for being so cruel, but there was a lingering trace of smugness in her voice that completely went against your first assumption. 

“Hi, baby.” She greeted you sweetly. You noticed that the wind was blowing past her as she spoke to you. You wondered if she was on the beach, surrounded by strangers and business partners, or if she was simply out on the balcony attached to her suite. Wherever she was, you wished that you were with her. 

“Daddy!” You sobbed, both because you had missed her voice in the last three days, and because knowing you finally had her undivided attention had worsened the moisture collecting between your legs. “Please Daddy!” 

“What do you want, baby? Use your words for Daddy.” Natasha cooed, and you fisted the sheets at your sides in frustration, writhing on the bed. 

The words tumbled past your lips without care for how you sounded. You knew Wanda could hear you from the master bedroom, but you had not a single care for your dignity as you pleaded with your dominant to let you cum. “Please! Please can I touch myself! Please!” 

“You wanna touch yourself, dorogay?” Natasha hummed, and although she couldn’t see you, you violently nodded your head in affirmation. Your babbled pleads were enough of an answer, because seconds later she was directing you to pinch your nipples for her. Despite not being the stimulation you desperately needed, you would take it, and you rolled your pebbled buds between your pointer finger and thumb needily. “Good girl, milaya. You sound so pretty for Daddy. I bet that sweet pussy is just begging for attention, isn’t it? Are you all wet, precious?” 

“Yes! Yes! Daddy please! I’m so wet! I can’t– I need– Daddy please don’t tease! Don’t tease!” You sobbed out, your back arching off the bed as you continued to alternate between your nipples and pinch and twist them at the pace you know Natasha would’ve set if she was here to do it herself. 

“Shh, shh, you’re okay. Daddy teased you all day, didn’t she?” Natasha’s voice was thick with faux pity, and her tone only worked against you as you clambered to draw in a decent breath of air whilst also focusing on her instructions. 

“Yes! Yes! Please! Please! Daddy, I can’t–, I can’t–, please!” 

“Okay baby, okay. You’re being such a good girl for me, detka. Touch your pussy baby. Not your clit, not yet. Just use your fingers, how many do you want, sweet girl? Do you want two? Two fingers in that pretty pussy?” Natasha gently guided you through the motions, and you cried out in relief when you felt the stretch of your fingers. Your pussy was gushing, crying for attention, but finally you were allowed to grant the wish it had been begging for all day. There was no slowing your pace. The second your fingers had dipped between your thighs, your pace was punishing, and though you still held the phone up to your ear with the hand that wasn’t between your legs, you were sure Natasha could hear the wet sounds that filled the air around you. “Does that feel good, baby? Use your words and tell Daddy how it feels.” 

“G-Good.” You cried out, but even with your fingers working the soft spot within your walls, it wasn’t enough. Your release was just out of reach and the only thing that could send you over the edge was her explicit permission to touch your clit, to finally give the pulsating nerve some love and attention. “D-Daddy please! My clit! M-My clit! Please please please!” Your mindless babbling seemed to have broken her tough reserve, and gently Natasha cooed her approval. 

“Touch your clit for me, baby. You don’t have to ask, you just cum when you want to. You were such a good girl today. Daddy didn’t think you could make it all day, you made me so proud, angel. So so proud. Make yourself cum, cum on your fingers for Daddy.” Natasha didn’t need to see your face to know that you were growing closer and closer to the edge, she could hear it in your moans as they spilled from your lips and down the phone line. “Yeah? You’re getting so close aren’t you, getting so close for Daddy. Cum for me, milaya. Cum for Daddy.” 

“Fuck fuck fuck! Daddy!” You cried, your back arching off the bed as you finally let the coil snap in your belly. Wanda’s moans of pleasure had increased within the same second, and your cheeks flushed realizing that Natasha’s plan all along had been to get the two of you to orgasm in tandem. “Thank you.” You croaked when you finally came down from you high, your body positively spent and your throat sore. 

“You did so good for me, malyshka.” You can hear the smile in her tone, and you melt into the blankets and sheets beneath you as you accept the weight of her words. “You sleepy, baby? You’ve had a long day.” 

“Yeah.” You whispered, hating the fact that you wouldn’t last another handful of minutes before you fell asleep on her. “Go get cleaned up, please. Daddy will be home soon, I can’t wait to see my good girl.” 

“I miss you.” You sighed softly, already starting to pull your body out of bed. You didn’t want to move, but you’d been so good all day, you wanted to make her proud down to the very last second. 

“I miss you too, angel. Wanda’s told me how good you’re being. Daddy has a surprise for you when she gets home.” Natasha promises, and had you been any more awake then you are now, you would’ve begged her to know what she had, but you merely hummed and went through the motions of brushing your teeth, going to the bathroom, and cleaning up your thighs. 

The sheets were the least of your concern, and you collapsed into the center of the bed, not even bothering with clothes as you snuggled into the blankets and let your eyes flutter closed, falling asleep in seconds with Natasha still on the line.

[grandline-fics]

Hi :3 i just watched the new episode and i want to hit that girl she had to touch zoro and sleep wit him 💔

So may I request zoro xs/o about seeing him with the girl maybe some angst and fluff in the end?

DESCRIPTION: After an unplanned separation, you feel insecure about your new relationship

WARNINGS: angst to fluff

CHARACTERS: Zoro

WORDS: 1,852

A/N:  Thank you for this request! I think I rushed the ending a bit but I hope you're happy with it

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

———————

Things between you and Zoro were new, incredibly new. There was still a lot you both had to come to grips with, sorting out your feelings and boundaries with each other and still in that moment of not knowing whether what was happening between you both was just lust or if it was going to lead somewhere real. So far you’d both been content to just enjoy the time and moments shared while keeping it all a secret from the crew, deciding it was better to wait before letting them know your personal details. That had been the plan, then it all went wrong in Zou. 

You’d been standing too close to Luffy as you all discussed saving Sanji who was in Big Mom’s territory. Because of that, you were one of the ones he wrapped his arms around and leapt off of the enormous elephant. From there started the longest time you’d both been apart as a couple-albeit a secret one- but you knew Zoro would be just fine in Wano. You just had to do your part and help get Sanji back so the crew could finally be complete again and wasting time thinking about a certain swordsman would only just jeopardise the safety of the crew. 

The entire trip and rescue had been an ordeal you never wanted to go through again. The fractured relationship between Sanji and Luffy had taken its toll- even though much of what Sanji did was to protect everyone- and the battles you had to endure too. You didn’t feel like you could properly breathe any sigh of relief for most of the journey. Yes, you’d all been successful but the loss of Pedro and knowing that as soon as you reached Wano it wouldn’t be long until you were brought straight into another monumental burden of fighting and defeating an Emperor of the sea and his followers. You felt like your head was swimming and stomach was going to be twisted into knots from it all. The only thing that kept you from showing your worries to the others was the thought of seeing Zoro again after weeks of being apart. 

So imagine your shock and hurt of the first seeing him again was seeing him and Sanji interfere during the aftermath of an execution. It wasn’t the fact that he saved a child or that he immediately got into a shouting match with Sanji that got under your skin it was that he didn’t even seem to look for you in the crowd where you stood with the others. Then as fast as you saw him, he was gone again; running to safety with a beautiful woman in his arms. You told yourself you were being ridiculous, that while it seemed like they knew each other Zoro was only acting on instinct to save someone and not because of some other desires fuelling his actions. 

At least that’s what you told yourself at first but as you and the others in the crew ran to escape Kaido’s lackeys you had to listen to Brook gleefully inform a heartbroken Sanji that he had walked in on the sight of this same beautiful woman sleeping contently with Zoro. While Sanji screamed loudly at the revelation you internalised all of your hurt until you were safe and alone, finally able to take out your fury and heartbreak on some random tree in the dense forest with your weapon until your body was too exhausted to move let alone care anymore. In the coming days of preparing for the raid on Kaido’s banquet you kept to yourself, doing all you could to focus your mind on the reason for being in Wano. Still you couldn’t help but numbly rationalise Zoro’s actions. 

Of course the weeks apart would give him insight into how he truly felt. Of course he would have realised he could do better than you. Of course you both only got together in the first place because on the ship, you were the alternative to having any needs he had go unmet. You had to face facts, this was just a fling for Zoro and nothing more. It just killed you inside to realise that you felt so strongly for him, you wished things had ended before it had gotten this far for you. The only thing you were glad of when Zoro finally reappeared was that he had a new sword to hone and train with so he stayed away from you. If there was to be a conversation you wanted it to be after the fight with Kaido, a clouded mind would only lead to mistakes and in this situation it would have been fatal. 

However on the night before the planned fight while the crew had finished their preparations and were beginning to turn in, Zoro walked towards you in the quiet night. He knew you had been keeping your distance from him so he could train and he appreciated that you were so understanding that when he was focused, he needed space. But now there was no more training he could do in the short hours before things would start so he wanted to properly reach out to you. He’d missed you during the time away but to see that you were completely unharmed was a relief. If you’d come back to him with so much as a scratch he would have killed the stupid cook because at the core of the matter it would have been his fault. 

Zoro frowned when you glanced his way and immediately moved to gather your things and find a new place to rest. His hand dropped to your arm but you surprised him when you quickly and sharply twisted from his touch. Then he remembered you two were still a secret. He glanced around the space and smirked to see the coast was clear, but even if the others were still up and about he wouldn’t have cared, not after the time apart. Still if you were still worried about telling the others he’d respect that. “We’re fine. It’s just us.” He spoke lowly to reassure you but it seemed to have the opposite affect when you snapped your head up to glare at him.

“Us?” You repeated coldly, expression melting into one of mock confusion. “There’s an us?”

“Wh-” Zoro was genuinely thrown for a moment and then he became worried that you had been injured in the time away and lost your memories of him. “Of course there is! What happened?” Again he reached out for you but this time your hand slapped his fingers with a sharp snap while the fierce glare returned to your eyes.

“Oh nothing’s wrong with me, I just don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea. Last thing I’d want is to get cosy with someone else’s man.” Your tone was scarily even and Zoro still didn’t know what you were talking about. He didn’t even know how to fix whatever it was that was bothering you. Thankfully you clarified by lightly tapping the hilt of Enma that was against his hip with his other swords. “It’s cute she knows the right gifts to give you so early in the romance.”  Despite the sweet words, the venom in your voice was unmistakable and Zoro finally saw the pain dimming your eyes as you regarded his new sword.

“Hiyori?” Zoro asked startled that you’d even think there was anything romantic going on there. She only gave him the sword as an exchange that was it. “There’s nothing between us. Definitely not ‘cosy’ trust me on that.” At that you let out a short, hollow breath of laughter which worried Zoro even more when he was so used to your laugh being filled with warmth and joy. 

“Well the way Brook tells it, the whole situation seemed very cosy…” Slowly you stepped closer to him, finally for the first time in ages and dragged your fingers across his chest while your other hand slid up his arm, drawing your body further into his space. Your head tilted up, purposely letting your nose gently skim against his throat until you could peer up at him with your guarded gaze. “Something like this, if i’m remembering right. You don’t call this cosy?” Zoro was stuck, if he said yes he was screwed, if he said no he was also screwed.

“Don’t worry about it Zoro. We had our fun while it lasted, right?” You forced out in as light a voice as possible. “You should get some rest while you can and I don’t want to waste anymore of your time.” When you moved to pull away you were immediately caught by Zoro’s reflexes. While you were fast, he was faster when he wanted to be. You let out a gasp to be pulled impossibly close against his chest as his arms locked around you, holding your body against his. 

You wanted to fight against the hold that was strong, secure, and -as much as you hated it- comforting. Even now with your heartbroken mind racing, you always felt safe and warm in his arms. You tried to open your mouth to tell him to let go but you couldn’t. Part of you didn’t want to  because the last thing you wanted now was for your voice to be a pitiful, weak tremble but another part knew that even if you managed out the words, he would have listened. So you kept your mouth closed. “I’ve missed you. I wished you hadn’t gone after that cook with the others.” 

Your body tensed at his words, hearing how sincere they were made your knotted worries and spiralling hurt begin to loosen slightly. You didn’t regret helping with Kanji’s rescue but you did also wish you’d gone to Wano with Zoro. “I’m sorry you were made to think the worst. I promise you there wasn’t anything going on with her or anyone. There is no one but you.”  

“Don’t say that.” You whispered, trying not to melt into his embrace. Even with him telling the truth it didn’t stop the fact that your insecurities had surfaced and with them came concerns about everything. “Compared to someone like her I’m-”

“Perfect. Mine. Everything.” Zoro interrupted fiercely before pressing a kiss against your temple. “I’ll say it as many times as it takes to get you to believe it. But first-” You staggered when Zoro let you go and began stomping towards the Sunny. “I’ve got a skeleton to kill for causing you to hurt.” Bewildered by the immediately bloodlust rolling off of his frame you had no choice but to chase after him to stop him from killing another member of the crew while shouting that you believe him. When you finally caught up to him you pulled him into another tight hug with shaking hands. While things were still new between you two and it was clear you both had a lot to work out you now knew that for as long as you wanted him, Zoro would be there. 

[cuckoo-on-a-string]

Pay the Piper Verse 2

mdni

Chapter summary: The pirates won't fuck off as requested. Problems abound.

Master list

Chapter warnings: blood, violence, bullets, implied threat of massacre, language (as always)

A/N: I alternate "verses" (main story arc chapters) with "leitmotifs" (critical flashback chapters with contextual adventures). It's a play on One Piece's own style and a way to keep things fresh.

I do not curate tag lists, but I do reply to comments when the next chapter goes live!

“What are they doing?”

The captain grunted. “Thought you were the clever little genius.”

You glared from the corner of your eye, refusing to lift your chin from its rest on your folded arms. “Clever doesn’t mean psychic.”

“Obviously.”

Together, you watched the problem trailing in your wake.

Although they hadn’t done as you’d requested, your hunters hadn’t closed on the Marines’ tub. Not when they refused your kindly plea to fuck off. Not in the hours after. You sat on the aft railing, puzzling over the situation.

Every time you lifted your spyglass, you caught sight of Red Hair himself, relaxing in the same place. Watching you just as you watched him. The fucker waved when he caught you peeping.

You nearly swallowed your damn tongue.

The world really had gone mad.

A spar shrieked with strain, and you patted the ship, apologizing for the chip you’d dug out of her paint the day before. It wasn’t her fault she’d survived so many years at sea without appropriate reward for her good service. The poor thing was just doing her best. If she survived, the Marines might finally retire her, and she’d be sold off to a civilian fishing venture. Her final days would be full of quiet sailing in shallow waters with a home port to shelter in every night. Fish guts were better than men’s, you imagined, even if you were a boat.

You eased back, freeing a hand to tap the folded spyglass against your forehead. Eyes closed, you begged the thing for vision. Some insight. Perspective, maybe.

This mission had enough obstacles without bloodthirsty pirates.

They were clearly playing with you. But you didn’t know what they’d take as a prize if they came aboard. If they even wanted to come aboard.

Fuck it all.

Grunting you dropped to your feet and turned your back to the enemy. This close, anyone with observation haki – or a particularly good pair of binoculars – could read lips.

“What do you plan to do?”

The captain snorted, dropping his arm across his face. He wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, but even he knew the absolute basics of strategy. Don’t tell the enemy your plans. Hopefully, he didn’t consider you one.

“Taking orders now?” he asked.

“Of course not.” You secured your telescope, shoulders loose and feet spread, hoping you looked calm from the pirates’ point of view. You were trying to run on ice, and if the captain decided to act of his own volition, you’d all sink to hell together. “I just like to be informed.”

His grip flexed around the binoculars, eyes darkening. Jaw ticking, he glared across the water.

“When they make their move, we’ll be ready to fight.”

You threw your head back and laughed.

Exactly what you’d expect from a marine with more brass than brains. Grinning with all your teeth, you rounded on him.  

“Adorable how you assume they’d cross blades instead of just broadsiding us.” Stepping closer, making sure you couldn’t be overheard, you took aim at his confidence. Hesitation on his part could stall the inevitable long enough for a new avenue to appear. Ego be damned. You wouldn’t die for a man’s pride.

“There won’t be a fight. Even if they don’t blow us to splinters with their superior range, Red Hair is one of the most fearsome men in the world. He blinks. We die. Don’t be thick. He fells vice admirals with his haki alone. You either got a hell of a promotion before we left, or you’re batting out of your league.”

Your shot landed, and the man snapped like a wounded animal. He snarled, shoving you out of his path, and you obliged, spinning away to his blow barely grazed your shoulder. You wanted to make a point, not pick a fight. Let him lick his wounds in peace. You’d be an adult and keep watch.

He stomped down to the main deck, the wood groaning under his assault. If the pirates didn’t destroy the ship, a few temper tantrums might just do it.

Without the captain of your ship eating space and sanity at your side, you felt the eyes of the other captain stabbing into the back of your head. Why did it feel so personal? So targeted? His determined fixation would get people killed. Not that a pirate would care, but – fuck’s sake – why couldn’t he just take the loot and leave?

Elbows on the rail, you dropped your head into your hands, fingers sinking through your hair and pulling until it hurt.

You refused to get your spyglass out again. You could still see his figure, even if his expression remained a mystery. From afar, you saw him raise an arm, holding something you deduced to be a cup when he brought it to his face.

A toast.

This bitch.

You wondered what to send him to express your regard. A barrel of shit. Rotten fish. Live rats. A pair of crushed walnuts.

He hadn’t played these games with the captain, at least not that you’d witnessed. You could imagine what stunning shade of red the man would turn if a pirate dared carry on with him in this manner.

So, that left the question: why you? The sea was a lonely place, but you doubted an emperor would be so desperately horny he’d chase down any ship with a woman aboard. And he’d been too far away to make out any figures at the hunt’s inception.

What did that mean?

Once he’d taken your necklace, the pirates kept up their pursuit, but they’d maintained that distance – close enough to see each other, but far enough to let everyone breathe.

It was like he wanted a conversation, like he was just waiting for the opportunity to pull alongside without escalating tensions to the breaking point.

Food for thought.

Honestly, you’d let him. If not for the marines. Red Hair would get what he wanted, one way or another, and appeasement might work if you were willing to give it another shot. A very, very risky shot. That the captain would not agree to.

This was why you traveled alone. It was impossible to make decisions with so many variables, so many others to consider…

An electric prickle ran up the back of your neck, jerking you out of your head.

Your intangible third eye snapped awake, staring wide into a scene of blood above deck and below. Casualties and regret and irreparable loss.

It sprang from the ship’s forecastle, from a sniper rifle’s barrel. The marine’s shot never fired. A bullet found his skull, scattering his thoughts into the thirsty deck. Men shouted. Weapons came to bear. Bullets picked them off. A canon shot cleared half the deck. Warped, aged wood couldn’t hold back the onslaught, and aborted screams rose with wailing cries from the hold before a crackling wave of haki left everything still.

You moved, and you felt the future alter with your steps. It flexed with your plans, two wills working over a chess board.

If you deflected the first shot – other marines fired. The end result was the same.

If you threw all your cards on the table and commanded the marines – you couldn’t see that future. It spun too far, but you knew what that gamble would cost. You didn’t need any special talent to see bounty posters and shackles creeping out to chain you. An end to your life, in one way or another. If you fell off the tightrope, the world would swallow you whole.

One option might work. The idea sprang from the waving figure of the pirate captain, his laughing refusal to simply fuck off, and the toast he raised to your frustration. He didn’t want treasure. He was after some sort of connection, chasing some link that tied back to you. If he just wanted to teach the marines a lesson for trespassing, you’d be dead already.

The plan would give you a few more minutes for a miracle, and a few minutes were always better than none at all. Besides, there was much less blood this way, and the old ship deserved a respite from violence.

You raced across the deck, ignoring the captain’s shouting as you rushed to end his little scheme. You’d definitely miscalculated there. His ego was too fragile to even look in a mirror. At the first pressure from reality, it shattered, and the shards would cut you all to ribbons.

Three steps from where the sniper lurked, peeking out from behind a mast on his knees, you felt your options narrow.

You were out of time.

“The fuck are you doing!”

You jumped in his way, shoving the barrel up so he fired into the clouds. There wasn’t time to brace the way you’d planned, and a bullet punched straight through you. It sent a shower of splinters from the prow, and a spray of your blood blinded the sniper. Rattled, the man didn’t even try to reload.

You fell against the mast, barely catching yourself as pain pounded through the shock. How bad was it? Not good. But not immediately fatal. You would’ve seen your death if it was that close.

You had your minutes.

Blinding rage flooded the ship, reaching over the waves to seize control. Conqueror’s haki. The sniper wilted at your feet, and the force of Red Hair’s oppressive aura knocked the wind out of you. You kept your feet, though, stumbling around to see a deck full of prone, useless men.

No canon shots, though. And only one bullet. Better than the alternative.

Still. The pirates were coming, and you had a job to do.

Usually, you had impeccable sea legs. Rough water and high winds meant nothing. But you couldn’t walk a straight line at the moment. Your vision swam, your brain struggling with a purely physical reaction to a serious wound, and cold dread curled around your heart as you pressed a hand to the hole. It was very warm. Very wet. You must be bleeding quite a bit.

You made it down to the main deck, swaying down to grab a pistol from a fallen marine as you headed below. Before you closed the door separating the crew quarters from the open air, you saw the Red Force’s dragon figurehead rise over the sails.

The sheer scale of the thing underlined the stupidity of it all.

It underscored the scale of the miracle you’d need to pull through this, too.

Well. The marines were down, anyway. No one around to see you break the rules.

Red Hair’s haki dropped off quickly. In tandem with the marines. Taking a deep breath that hitched on torn muscles, you pulled your focus together and flung it back. You had no hope of taking out the commanders, but every sword mattered in a fight, and you’d settle for clearing minions.

The dragon snarled closer, and you shut the door. Barricaded it. Limped your way deeper into the ship as you heard feet clatter aboard. You reached the door to the hold just as the first shoulder slammed into your little roadblock. Drums of war.

You knocked on the hold, hoping against hope Red Hair’s haki hadn’t reached below deck.

There was no response.

Winded, exhausted, you slid down the wall, aiming your pistol at the corner the pirates would have to turn to reach you. You didn’t have the energy to keep standing and hold the gun steady.

Hiding was out of the question. And you were the last line of defense.

Maybe if you lasted long enough, everyone would wake up and follow the emergency plan you’d drilled since leaving port. That meant facing a Yonko and his entire crew. Alone, just like you’d wanted.

The hall was better than the open deck. At least this way, you’d only have to face a few at a time. Though, depending on who came first, you might not get through any of them. You would not win against a Yonko. You would not win against his lieutenants, either, especially bleeding out with your back to the wall and something to protect.

Something snagged in your chest and you coughed. Iron and salt tinged the back of your throat with your next breath, and you wondered how much time you’d really won for yourself.

The door you’d blocked shattered, and running footsteps took on a new timbre in the ship’s hollow belly.

Your defenses hadn’t lasted a whole minute.

How, exactly, had this been the best outcome?

You were going to haunt Garp.

“Oi, oi!”

Far too friendly for the situation, the voice bounced down the passage. A sandaled foot slipped halfway out of cover, showing the speaker stood at the end of your little death tunnel. It wasn’t hard to guess who it belonged to.

Fucking fuck.

“That pistol won’t do either of us any favors. Put it down and let’s talk.”

You felt his haki pushing – far more gently than before but strong enough to turn the air thick in your mouth. You barely even thought of reacting. Instinctively, your haki slashed against his, feral and out of control. You took such pride in your precision. Shame you were going to die hissing and spitting like a cornered cat.

You cocked the hammer. “Can’t do that.”

“I’m standing in your blood.” Though still friendly, the voice grew heavier, less playful. An adult speaking to an adult, not a miscreant flirting his way out of trouble. “How long do you think you’ll last like this? Put down the gun. We have a doctor. He can help you.”

“Would’ve helped if you left when I asked.”

“You told me to fuck off.” He sounded delighted. You could hear his smile.

Your head thumped against the wood, a jarring little strike to keep you focused.

“I said please.”

Laughter you’d seen but never heard echoed through the space.

“That you did.” The man around the corner sighed, and you wondered how long you could spin out this standoff before he got bored. “You’re just the way I remembered you.”

What.

What?

“I don’t believe I’ve ever had the pleasure of a yonko’s acquaintance.” Staring even harder through the shadows, you waited for a trap, for a rush to take advantage of your distraction.

He must be lying. You’d never met Red-Haired Shanks.

But if he’d mistaken you for someone else…

“We never did have a proper introduction,” he agreed. “But I’m sure you remember.”

“I don’t know what you’re -”

A wobbly little voice said your name. Asked it, really. A frightened child looking for an adult. In the quiet belly of the ship, it was much too loud.

“Shit.” You glanced away from the end of the hall, shouting, “Don’t open the door!”

The child, a purple-haired squirt named Tevon, if you remembered right, sniffled, a wail haunting his words. “I fell down. All the mommies and aunties are asleep, and they won’t wake up.”

The yonko’s heavy sandal scraped over the boards as he adjusted his stance, and your gaze flicked back to the threat. Even if enough of the civilians behind the door woke before the pirates made a move, hiding was pointless. They’d been exposed.

You lifted a knee, snarling against the pain, and propped up your wrist to steady your sights.

“Ah.” The jubilant pirate captain turned serious. The warmth in his voice faded. “I think I understand.”

When in doubt – “You don’t know shit.”

He chuckled. It was dry. Almost derogatory.

“A bunch of women and children with a civilian escort on a Marine ship that barely deserves the name.”

In the quiet, you heard an infant start fussing. Because things couldn’t get any worse.

“Refugees?” Red-Hair asked. “And pirates are a particular threat. Enough for you to sacrifice something precious.”

A light chain rattled, rasping over callouses, and you had no doubt he was looking at your sacrifice as he spoke.

And he knew how much it mattered to you.

But you’d never met. Surely you’d remember…

“Families of the fallen from Marineford,” he concluded. “Am I right?”

The pistol wouldn’t stop him. You weren’t stupid, but you clung to it anyway. It made you feel like you could still do something.

“If they are?”

“Then you can put down the gun. We don’t hurt civilians.”

It sounded too good to be true, so you suspected it was. There would be a catch. A cost. Even merciful pirates were no angels.

“Then what do you want?”

“For you to stop bleeding!” After a moment’s rustling and vague cursing, an open hand appeared around the corner. “I’m unarmed, see? I’m gonna come to you, alright?”

You didn’t lower the gun, even as he slipped entirely out of cover.

“And I won’t shoot you because…?”

“You don’t want to.”

He took the journey one cautious step at a time, giving you plenty of time to study the great pirate effortlessly disregarding your last stand. Even in the gloom, you could make out his red hair and the long scars over his left eye. His black cloak whispered around him as he moved, strangely ominous in contrast with his colorful trousers. His attention stayed on you, just as yours fixed on him.

It felt eerily familiar.

Once he was close enough, he crouched in front of you, face even with the pistol. With two fingers, he casually pushed the barrel aside, and the weapon fell from your weakened grip.

He smiled wide. “See? Told you so.”

You glowered.

You should’ve shot him.

Rising, Red-Hair rapped his knuckles against the door to the hold, waiting until the growing sounds of shifting and groaning stilled. He only spoke when he had a rapt audience.

“You’re welcome to settle in my territory if any of you wish, and this ship has safe passage for as long as you’re aboard.”

He glanced down at you, and you found it increasingly difficult to look at all menacing from the floor, all labored breathing and numb hands.

“Unfortunately, your friend here was hurt in a misunderstanding, so she’ll be coming with us so our doctor can treat her.”

“Oh, hells no, I won’t.” Maybe it wasn’t too late to put a bullet in his smug face.

He ignored you.

“Tell the marines whatever you like. It’s a friendly kidnapping, but it is what it is.” He paused, considering. “Since we’re taking part of your defenses, I’ll have a crew flying our colors escort you. Apologies for the interruption. I hope you find your new homes soon and you have smooth sailing the rest of the way.”

Turning on his heel, he looked down the hall and called, “Beck! Have Hongo prepare the surgery, and tell Bonk Punch to come down here.”

You followed his line of sight just in time to see a tall, grey-haired man smoking a cigarette nod and head back towards the deck. “Got it, boss.”

Red-Hair knelt beside you, and you lashed out, planting your foot in the middle of his chest so he couldn’t get any closer.

“Hey, you’ll just bleed out faster if you fight like that.” He swept around the offending limb, getting his arm under your shoulders and hoisting you to your feet.

The pain was dazzling. For a moment, everything went white, and your ears rang. You felt the pirate captain all but dragging you along like a rag doll, and staying conscious took too much effort to even try resisting again.

“Here.” He handed you off to someone with two arms. You felt them curl around you, and suddenly your feet weren’t on the floor.

Yelping in agony and indignation, you threw your fading haki out in a wave.

It did nothing.

“Be careful,” the captain said, smile and mirth returned. “She’s a fighter.”

“I got her, Captain.”

Red-Hair’s voice faded as he walked away, and you blinked after his retreating figure. “I’m going to find our guest’s quarters and make sure we don’t leave anything important behind.”

The pirate carrying you climbed the steps to the main deck, angling your combined bulk through the shattered door, and the sun blinded you all over again.

You panted, fingers twitching in a vain effort to reclaim control as you were taken. A few marines had woken, and they sat at gunpoint as the pirates completed their business. They were hardly friends, but you still tried to plead with your eyes as the man carried you off.

Each one looked away.

Fucking cowards.

Over the deck, across the boarding ramp, and onto the pirate’s vessel – you were officially stolen goods.

[thottyimagines]

Who in Naruto are clap back queens? Like who says the craziest insults and who just stays silent

Clap back queens:

Neji, who delivers reads mercilessly and without prompting no matter who is there to witness it.

Ino can read your mind and knows exactly what to say to make you suffer.

Tobirama spends time practicing arguments with all of his enemies in his head, so he always has something foul to say.

Shikamaru, when angered properly, has a rolodex of hurtful information about his target to pull from and is delighted to do so.

Sasuke says things so out of pocket, he doesn't even know what's going to come out of his mouth next.

Kakuzu is just straight up mean and willing to unleash it on anyone.

Kurenai's favored pastime is psychological warfare.

Orochimaru can send someone to the psych ward with words alone, you know.

Silent sufferers:

Hinata, but her teammates will take vengeance.

Sakura stews and seethes and thinks about all the cool things she could have said well after an altercation happens.

Kakashi can't be bothered to clap back for the most part, but good god, he has the ability to be both mean and insightful ifs he wanted to be.

Hidan splutters wildly when insulted, but doesn't often come up with something particularly clever or cutting.

Gai lets insults and digs fly right over his head as a defense mechanism, so he doesn't have to bother.

Kabuto has gotten pretty used to letting Sasuke's horrible words roll off of him like water off a duck's back.

[royal-hair]

SWEDEN - Peter Hägelstam, Johan Hellström and Matthias Lavesson

I will start with Peter Hägelstam, who has been the hairdresser of Queen Silvia for more than 40 years, him and Johan Hellström are the owners of Björn Axén, and both took on the task of styling also Crown Princess Victoria and Princess Madeleine.

Thank to the recent release of the book "Björn Axén – Haute Coiffure" and the round of interviews and podcasts, Peter has been giving a little insight behind the scenes of the updos we all love. Like how he clears his schedule when the Queen calls or that they do have a hairdresser station in the palace for him and his team to work his magic.

Peter Hägelstam is behind most of Queen Silvia's Nobel looks (apart from her regular tiara hair), even my absolute fave, 1991's Silvia with red orchids in her hair (he assisted Björn Axén on it).

According to Peter, they plan the hair so it interacts with the dress, if the dress is big and has volume, the hair is also big and with volume. The hair must be a continuation of the tiara, so his hairstyles are always well integrated in an harmonious styling. Peter also talks about how this Nobel looks fixes the wearer's posture, as they tend to have their back strighter so the hair don't come undone with all the movement.

Silvia and Victoria like to wear jewelry on their updos, so that an apparently simple updo, can be elevated with a little bling.

He also talked about some tricks like after doing a bun and just before applying haispray one last time, they pull a bit the hair so it has a little bit of more body, or about why Madeleine is the best with he hair down, not my words, just Peter's:

"If there is anyone who can wear her hair down with full control, it is Princess Madeleine. She has the ability to move carefully so that the hair does not move. An open hairstyle demands a lot from the hairdresser and this time it was Ring Ljung who received that honor. He is fantastic at working in layers. You don't spray everything into one unit, but the hair is a little articulated while still staying in place."

And you all would think, how much time do they spend doing the hair? Because one would think that this kind of intricate work would take a few hours, but that's far from the truth, because according to Peter, there has been times where doing Silvia's hair took a whooping 20 minutes. Maybe hair pieces and extensions facilitate his work and shorten the time, but even when asked about it, he doesn't confirm nor deny that they use them, he just talk about a little bit of help after Silvia cut her hair short and that sometimes, the hair needs a little rest. So in Royal Hair talk it is a yes, but we'll keep his secret.

Peter was also asked about Victoria's hair being always in a bun. He says that Victoria is the most conservative and less adventurous with the hair, and while I don't agree with him I get where he's coming from as in recent years the style is always a variant of a bun.

Victoria prefers her hair out of the face so her features are showcased, and she also has that preference because she has curly hair and as a person on the curly side, I know that the weather can change drastically your hairdo, so that's why she mostly wears a safe hairstyle to not worry about how she's looking. But what Peter also says is that privately Victoria does wear her hair down often! In this blog I always celebrated like a wedding announcement when Victoria wore her hair down, and all I ask is to have more of those days because the looks stunning like in her 10th wedding anniversary photos.

If you want to see how Peter works, he gave a tutorial on tiara hair in 2020 when SVT released a documentary about the swedish tiaras, just go to around the minute 20 and you'll see:

(@tiaramania I remember us being so excited about this when it was released hahaha)

Lastly, I don't want to forget about Sofia's hairdresser Matthias Lavesson, we don't have as much information about him like Peter Hägelstam as Sofia's time as a royal is just 10 years.

Matthias was trained by Peter himself, so it's not surprising that Sofia chose him as her hairdresser.

He was the man behind the beautiful updo with the black ribbon flowers in 2023 and that should not be a shock as he's also a head piece maker, so if we combine his two talents, all we get is combos like the ponytail with a huge ribbon headband on Julian's christening or a few headpieces on the opening of the Parliament:

As I said, there's not so much information on him and how he worked specifically with Sofia, I just found one interview where he talks about tips and products he uses (that's the last link if you want to read it). But what we do have is a testament of his work with Sofia's appearances.

Sources: x x x x x x x x

[the-bitter-ocean]

Miscellaneous Childhood Mira doodles with Euphrasie + HCs of what her parents looked like (this isn’t canon this is just my take on it based on what little information adrienne gives and also the game itself gives on what Mirabelle was like precanon etc. Drawing of my hcs of Mirabelle parents designs as well as an insanely long character study/ theorizing on Mirabelle was like pre canon is under the cut:

“Ocean why do you assume she might not be on the best of terms / isn’t close with her biological parents” it’s like a combination of things tbh? Mirabelle mentions repeatedly how much the people of the House of Change, especially Euphrasie has done so much in helping her learn and grow into the person she is today. Throughout the game she talks about how much she cares about/ misses different people in the game and how they are all important to her. You’ve got the head Housemaiden Euphrasie, who did everything in her power to protect her at the cost of herself, was mirabelle’s mentor and even gave Mirabelle blessing of being immune to the King’s Time freezing powers. You’ve got Claude, Mirabelle’s roommate that she cares about despite sometimes getting on her nerves ( she knows how dedicated Claude is to helping others and stopping the king etc), her other fellow housemaidens, the people she knows in dormont and of course all her companions that chose to help her on the journey to stop the king in the first place (Isabeau Bonnie Odile and Siffrin) she loves very much. Initially before getting any information from the in character QnA or Twitter or the QnA on Reddit, I had assumed that her biological parents were dead or that she never met them or had them to begin with but it’s not the case here.

Mirabelle talks about that when she first arrived at the house / prior to getting there she didn’t know how to do a lot of things basic skills. Siffrin also mentioned that the journey itself really changed her since he first met ( because initially she was a lot more shy but now she’s more confident in herself as of canon events in the game). Mirabelle said that she was taught by Euphrasie and the other house maidens. It’s giving the vibes of someone who arrived at the house ( whether by personal conviction to run away and find people who will understand her / that she can hope to understand and connect to) or her parents dropped her off there because it would be easier for them to do at a young age.

M: {The Head Housemaiden...I have to save her...}

I: […]

M: {The Head Housemaiden...She's such a wonderful person." "She helped me out so much! I couldn't do anything before I came to the House, I could barely sew my own clothes, and she helped me, she taught me..." "I wouldn't be the person I am without her!"}

Despite all of this she doesn’t talk about her biological family at all not even in passing despite the whole “ everyone and everything as we know it in the country could be frozen in time for good if things don’t go well” ( which is noticeable in comparison to how easily she can talk about how much other people in her life has cared for her and how much she wants to save them all from the kings destruction). In a in character QnA session when the subject of families / parents was brought up she has a very stilted and awkward response. The tone she’s answering it in feels like she’s hesitating or at the very least isn’t a 100% sure on how she feels about her parents ( and in truth probably hasn’t or didn’t want to think about them). We see the kind of way Mirabelle talks when it’s about people she loves in game before! It’s passionate and confident and full of love/ conviction that she cares for them! So seeing that in comparison to this is well..this isn’t having that energy truth be told. (Screenshot for those that don’t use Twitter)

Also Adrienne a while back posted official character playlists for each of the characters on Spotify to give insight to everyone on what the characters vibes were like and the song choices were very striking to me. The song choice for Mirabelle in particular that made me go !!!! was seeing Elle me dit by MIKA . For those who are unaware of the song and what it’s about, it’s essentially a song about a mother telling her kid all her high expectations of him and how she’s disappointed in the way he’s living his life.

Given how Adrienne stated that mirabelles parents don’t understand her and she in turn doesn’t get them either, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s heard similar sentiments growing up / had that sort of pressure to Change or behave in a certain way. ( Even with her dedication the Change belief making her happy Mirabelle still will lament about how she’s afraid that she’s not doing enough as a house maiden or that her identity of being aroace somehow would upset others/ makes her feel alienated in comparison to how everyone else can change easily. ) This combined with the fact she canonically has anxiety and has moments where she isn’t very confident in herself is.. deeply worrying! Yes I’m aware that people can just have those types of thoughts even in a good supportive environment/ experiences but the combination of all those factors isn’t exactly aspiring confidence.

Anyway that’s my ramble I hope you all enjoyed my analysis/ headcanons yipeee ^_^

[tealvenetianmask]

Hell's Belles and who Millie is in her relationships:

Hell’s Belles is light and cute, and the reaction I saw the most was people getting all heart-eyed over Sallie Mae, and she deserved all the love. But I think the short also gives us some real insights into Millie that people tend to overlook. And I think that’s relevant with Ghostfuckers coming up, where presumably (hopefully!) we'll learn more about her internal world and her friendship with Blitz. 

So what new information did we learn about our girl?

For one thing, it's clear that Millie and Sallie Mae are very close in age and their brothers are significantly younger. 

They ran things around the farm together and hung out all the time, probably throughout their childhoods. But I also have a hunch that Millie is the oldest- it’s just a hunch- no proof.

I think it’s because Sallie is so shaken up by her absence . . .

And also because of what we know about Millie's relationship with Moxxie. During most of the M&M centric arcs, she plays a supportive or protective role, rescuing her husband when he's in danger, comforting him when he's upset, and yes, giving him a reality check when he needs it.

In Unhappy Campers, we see that Millie believes her needs (to be supported in turn and celebrated for being her fantastic self) are neglected. A lot of youtube reactors were surprised, but I think it makes perfect sense.

This is a character with "eldest daughter syndrome," which means that she was raised to take on responsibility for others. She instinctively puts herself second and rarely thinks about it, until she realizes that her own needs are being neglected.

I think that even if Millie is the second-oldest, this still stands- I think she was the caretaker sibling, the most supportive, empathetic, and self-assured one. This is a good thing. Maybe she supported Sallie Mae through her transition. Maybe she made sure that the younger kids were taken care of and that all of the work around the farm was complete. I picture her doing all of this with the enthusiasm and joy that she brings to . . . you know . . . slaughtering dozens of enemies in one go.

I think we're seeing growth in Millie with regard to prioritizing her own needs in her relationships, even if a lot of that growth is happening in the background. In Hell's Belles, she tells Sallie Mae that their relationship is a priority without taking on all of the responsibility for that relationship herself.

So . . . we don't know much about how the friendship between Millie and Blitz started, but here's what I think based on what we know about their characters individually and the interactions we've seen.

Millie is super easygoing around Blitz and pretty tolerant of his quirky *cough- super invasive* behavior. She even plays into/encourages his sillier antics pretty often, and just generally seems to trust him as a leader/friend, and he admires her work in turn.

I think there's more to it. I think she's seen Blitz in some really dark places- did they meet in their early assassin days? Like, when Blitz was right out of his relationship with Verosika and reinventing himself?

I think that from what we know about the role Millie plays in her relationships, she was probably supportive at a time when Blitz really needed someone to be. (As for how this works with the timeline of when they each met Moxxie, maybe we'll find out!)

Anyway, I'm excited for Ghostfuckers and wish it weren't so far away. I like that it looks like there'll be some focus on Millie, and I hope we see her strengths on display (because that's always great) but also see some more of her depth. I don't think it's bad at all for her to be a caretaking/supportive friend, sister, and partner. But I guess my main message is- even though those are great things about her, she's more than that, so let's not overlook this awesome lady.

[bonejunky6669]

so the phone that is left in the bathroom - presumably by the stalker, has this song as a ringtone. Queen of Hearts by Juice Newton. the identity of the stalker has two possibilities: the writers are trying to throw us off by making us think its Melissa, or it actually is Melissa.

This seems a little obvious because Shauna and Melissa's make out scene is intertwined with the scene Shauna making the call about the phone and asking for the description of the person who picked it up. the writers were clearly trying to tell us something there. but there are some more clues that make this theory stronger, and could also provide a lot of insight into Melissa as a character, Shauna's role in the wilderness, and their relationship. I think this song is very significant and has some really interesting symbolism.

first of all, the name. Queen of Hearts, the card that chooses the victim for the hunt. there isn't much to say about that connection.

Playin' with the Queen of Hearts

Knowin' it ain't really smart

The Joker ain't the only fool

Who'll do anythin' for you

so it seems like the story this song is telling is that The Joker, someone lowly or foolish or naïve, is enchanted with The Queen of Hearts- someone with authority or prowess. this isn't a smart path for The Joker to take, because she's the Queen. She'll break your heart.

these lyrics also tell us the The Joker will do anything for the Queen,

Layin' out another lie

Thinkin' 'bout a life of crime

'Cause that's what I'll have to do

To keep me away from you

including committing crimes. these lines are implying that The Joker will never leave their Queen, they would have to be literally locked up for that to happen.

I think this dynamic will be Shauna and Melissa's dynamic in the coming episodes. in the trailer, there's a brief clip where Melissa tells Shauna "that's what power feels like". she wants Shauna to be their leader- to be the Antler Queen. we already know she's enraptured with her, and this only makes that more clear. Melissa is The Joker. Shauna will inevitably hurt her, which is why Melissa is foolish for seeking her out. she's "playin' with The Queen of Hearts", which, just like their rituals, will only end in death, whether in the teen timeline or adult timeline.

even though we barely have any scenes of them together so far, or much information about Melissa's character, we can make some deductions from what we have already seen. I think Melissa will do anything for Shauna. she stomps on the crown that offended Shauna. Shauna holds a knife to her throat and she's into it. she wants Shauna to have power over her and Shauna wants to have power. as said in interviews with the actors, Shauna and Melissa's relationship is going to be a role-reversal of Shauna and Jackie's. while Jackie had power over Shauna (and didn't really want it), and Shauna felt controlled by Jackie (and didn't want to be); now Shauna is the one in power, and she fully wants to be. Shauna will be the next Antler Queen, and Melissa will help her get there, through whatever means necessary, by her side like the queen's joker.

Won't you keep my heart from breakin'

If it's only for a very short time?

this lyric could also imply the nature of their situationship. they are seeking comfort in each other. in the words of some post I read somewhere, this isn't romance like Tia and Van have, or homoerotic friendship like jackieshauna, this is a secret third evil thing (lol). Melissa is and will be a stand-in for Jackie, and she will keep Shauna from breaking only for a short time.

so some miscellaneous clues about Melissa being the stalker:

most damning: Shauna literally calls Melissa a stalker in the teen timeline. Melissa is apparently really good at following Shauna around.

we see the stalker from behind (though extremely out of focus so take this with a grain of salt) and it appears they have blonde hair.

this is someone with deep knowledge of what went on in the wilderness. I don't think this could just be someone whose done research.

now, HOW could there be an eighth survivor if there is no mention of them in the future timeline? my leading theory is that Melissa faked her death, possibly very soon after the rescue. there's no mention of her because she's been "dead" for twenty five years.

i definitely have more ideas for this theory, but I just wanted to focus on the ringtone for now because it really stuck out to me.

[yumeka-sxf]

Japanese Linguistic Observations in Spy x Family - part 4

Part 4 - Furigana and double meanings

I discussed in Part 2 how Japanese is comprised of three different alphabets: hiragana and katakana (together referred to as "kana") which represent pronunciation, and kanji which represent meaning. With there being over 2,000 kanji in common use, as well as various ways to pronounce any one kanji character depending on the word it's in, children learn kanji gradually throughout their school years. So manga and books aimed at a younger audience will typically have kanji "translations." These are comprised of small kana called furigana which are printed to the right of the kanji to show how to pronounce it. In the below panel for example, the one word that has a kanji is the 嬉 in 嬉しい. The furigana shows that 嬉 is pronounced うれ ("ure") to make the adjective "ureshii" (happy).

Sometimes manga authors will use furigana+kanji in creative ways to convey different meanings to words that specifically suit their story/characters. This alternate way of translating kanji is called 当て字 (ateji). One way of using ateji is to help introduce fictional terminology. In SxF for example, Ostania and Westalis are made-up words, but Endo assigns them their own kanji: 東国 for Ostania and 西国 for Westalis. The second kanji for both of them is 国 which means "country," and the first kanji for Ostania is 東 which means "east" while 西 for Westalis means "west." However, to differentiate them from the actual words these kanji represent ("toukoku" and "saikoku," which mean "eastern country" and "western country" respectively), Endo writes out their pronunciations in katakana next to the kanji. You can see this in the panels below.

Even though they're not real words, by assigning them kanji that represent what they are – "east country" and "west country" – even without any context, Japanese readers get more information about these terms than English readers do thanks to the use of kanji and furigana.

Another way manga authors can use ateji to suit their needs is by telling readers to pronounce otherwise normal Japanese words in the "language" they want. For example, the word used for "codename" in SxF is 暗号名, which is a real word that is pronounced "angoumei." However, when we look at the furigana that Endo assigns to it, he specifically tells us to pronounce it like the English word "codename" (コードネーム).

Since SxF is a series that takes place in a fictional version of Europe, Endo must have found it more fitting to use English for specific keywords like this.

While the above examples are fairly common throughout all manga, especially those that have a lot of fictional terminology, Endo also gets creative with using ateji to form double meanings that lend insight into the characters' thoughts/feelings. And we get one of the best examples of this in the very first chapter:

This is the scene where Twilight's saying that he became a spy to create a world where children don't have to cry. The word for children, 子ども, should be pronounced "kodomo," however, the furigana is telling us to pronounce it as じぶん (jibun), which means "self." By creating this double meaning of Twilight saying he'll make a world where children and/or he himself doesn't have to cry, points out in a subtle yet poignant way just how much Twilight's trauma as a child shaped his determination to make sure other children don't have to suffer the same fate. It's a brilliant way of showing a deeper side of the character that he wouldn't outwardly show.

A similar example occurs in chapter 49 during the cruise arc, in the scene where Yor is guarding the room at night, thinking about how she was dragging her feet during the Barnaby fight. Her last thought during that scene is wondering what she's fighting for, however, even though the word used is いばら姫 (ibarahime), which means "Thorn Princess," the furigana tells us to pronounce it as わたし, which is the "I"/"me" pronoun that Yor uses.

The ambiguity of reading the word as "I" or as "Thorn Princess" emphasizes how she's struggling with her Thorn Princess identity at that time. It can almost have a different meaning when reading it one way or the other. For example, reading it as わたしは何のため ("For what reason am I [doing this]…) or as いばら姫は何のため ("For what reason is Thorn Princess [doing this]…) gives the impression that she's trying to distance herself from "Thorn Princess"…that she's unconsciously seeing herself and "Thorn Princess" as different people.

Another example that's not as deep but still interesting is from chapter 87, where Sylvia visits Fiona in the hospital and tells her not to push herself so hard, even for his sake, with "his" referring to Twilight. The kanji used is 黄昏 (tasogare) which means "Twilight," but the furigana translation is あいつ (aitsu) which means "that guy/that person."

This is a clever way to use kanji/furigana to indicate that Sylvia is indeed aware of Fiona's feelings for Twilight by having her not refer to him by name, but also informing the reader that she definitely knows who she's talking about.

I also find it interesting that all three of these examples are spoken from a character we're viewing from behind. I think it's just a coincidence, but still interesting 😅

I'll wrap up with one more example from chapter 58, where Loid notes that his understanding of Bond is lacking, just like Anya. Once again, the word for children, 子ども (kodomo) is used (Loid likes making double meanings with that word, doesn't he?) but the furigana translates it to アーニャ(Anya).

I interpret this as him saying he needs to understand children better, but he specifically means Anya (even though he doesn't want to admit his particular yearning to understand her).

If you're wondering how the anime handles these ateji, it seems to vary. In the anime version of the chapter 1 example, Loid says the correct kanji translation "kodomo," but in the chapter 49 example, Yor says the furigana translation "watashi."

The anime seems to use the reading that would make the most sense if spoken out loud by the character.

I haven't read enough manga in Japanese to say that this use of furigana+kanji to create double meanings is a common thing, but even if it is, I'm sure Endo has his own unique style of doing it. I know there's more examples in SxF that I missed, and unfortunately I don't have the time to look through every chapter to find them. But if you happen to come across any others, feel free to let me know 😃 I may amend this post or create another one if more interesting examples pop up.

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