#i'm a legal adult thank you very much
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sweating- o.piastri



summary: oscar has been acting strange
pairing: oscar piastri x fem! Brown! reader
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Zak had been worried about Oscar for a while. The far-off looks in meetings, the silence at dinners, the constant stares he was getting, all of it. He’d even been so worried, that he came to you, and you’d told him that Oscar had been just fine at home, so it must be something to do with work.
It was a strange thing, to be dating your boss’s daughter. Oscar had in fact fallen for you within seconds of meeting you back in 2022, his first visit to MTC, before everything else happened. You, a legal trainee on the McLaren legal team, was the one running him through his contract, and he was very thankful that his lawyer was there to ask questions, because he was just focused on you. As he joined the team, you two got closer. About half way through his rookie season, he finally plucked up the courage to ask you out, and you had said yes. What ensued was a few months of sneaking around until you finally told your dad, who supported you two, but from afar. He liked Oscar, would he have preferred you pick someone that wasn’t his driver, yes, very much so, but he didn’t have a say in your life. You were an adult and if you wanted to go get your heart broken by an F1 driver, that was up to you. The one thing Zak hadn’t accounted for was the fact that Oscar was a sweetheart who was genuinely head over heels for you. He saw it when you were in the paddock, how Oscar smiled a little brighter, how he made you a priority all weekend, how he performed better.
So what the fuck was going on with Oscar now?
Zak was worried that he was planning on breaking up with you, or maybe he was just going through some mental roadblocks at work, so he called him into his office.
Oscar awkwardly took a seat across from him, waiting to be addressed.
“Are you alright, Osc? You seem a bit… off lately,” Zak asked, nothing but concern in his voice.
Oscar shook his head. “I’m fine,” he said, but even he knew it sounded wrong. This is really not how he wanted this to go. He was insured of Zak’s worry by the way his brows furrowed. “You can talk to me kid, you know that right? If it’s about Y/n or-”
“It’s not about Y/n,” Oscar assured him. “I’m alright, I promise.”
“Oscar, talk to me, I’m here for you. If you’re going through something-”
“I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask for your blessing!” he admitted, speaking far too loud and far too fast. Oscar looked up to see Zak’s face blank, his jaw slightly dropped. “I’m so sorry-”
“You have it,” he said. Now it was Oscar’s jaw that dropped. “Of course you have it,” Zak’s lips turned into a smile. “She adores you. You clearly adore her. I love you, my wife loves you, my sons love you. Of course you have my blessing.”
He took a deep breath and smiled. “Thank you,” he chuckled. “God, I was terrified.”
“You thought I’d say no?”
Oscar shrugged. “Maybe?”
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Zak was very happy when he woke up to a call from the two of you, engaged, a few weeks later.
oscarpiastri



liked by pierregasly, zbrownceo, landonorris and 348,928 others
oscarpiastri: awesome season, can't wait to marry this girl though :)
comments
landonorris: OMFG YALL ARE YOUNGER THAN ME PLZ SLOW DOWN -> oscarpiastri: no more papaya rules 🤷
pierregalsy: too young -> kikagomez: bitch -> user92: lmao he's never said that before
zbrownceo: Congrats guys! Can't wait to walk you down the aisle!
charlesleclerc: MY SON IS GETTING MARRIED!!!!!! -> oscarpiastri: thank you adoptive father :)
user93: god she is GLOWING
user12: these are the cutest photos ever!!!!!!!
user8: THE RINGGGGG
lilymunihe: OMG I'M SO EXCITED!!!! ->youruser: OMG LOVE YOUUUUU
user98: they're so in love it's actually sickening
logansargeant: no ring picking creds? -> oscarpiastri: I don't think grimacing at every ring I chose was very helpful -> hattiepiastri: nah, but it was funny
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula one imagine#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x you#formula one x reader#formula 1#formula one#mclaren#oscar piastri x fem!reader#f1 fluff#x reader#female reader#x reader insert#reader insert#x reader fic#x reader fluff#x reader fanfiction#fem reader#gn reader#f1#f1 smau#f1 imagines#f1 x you#requests#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction
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Anniversary in the Cape - M.S
A/N: hey so, i feel CRAZY after writing this. this is truly an example of the duality of my writing... also, i'm sorry if there's any typos, i've proofread a ton and even stuck this bitch in grammarly but i could have missed something. she's looonnnng, so get some wine (if legal) and some popcorn and enjoy!!!!!! ALSO, ALSO, minors!!! DNI!!!! pls and thank you. :)
summary: matt and reader take their relationship to the next level, going on an overdue vacation to the cape for their anniversary.
warnings: cursing, smut (unprotected do not recommend), spanking, choking, matt being hot, uhhh idk
word count: 5.8k
song: stargazing - the neighborhood
'started with a spark, now we're on fire'
"And you're sure your parents were okay with us using the car and the house?" I ask looking at him focus on the road in front of him.
"Yes, baby. For the one-hundredth time, they don't mind. Quit worrying, this is our vacation," He looks at me quickly, taking a hand off the wheel to meet my thigh and squeeze it lightly.
"I know, I'm just nervous," I admit softly and he turns to me with wide playful eyes.
"Nervous! Why the hell are you nervous?" He laughs in bewilderment, and I roll my eyes, shrugging slightly.
"I mean, obviously we've been alone before, but we've never been away just the two of us," I explain.
"Yeah, and I'm fucking ecstatic about it. Like you said, no interruptions, quiet house, on the cape...possibilities are endless." He says looking at me with a small suggestive smile growing on his face.
Of course, Matt and I get alone time. Do we get as much as we would like? No.
It's difficult finding time for ourselves when Matt lives with his brothers and my roommates are hermits.
Which I never saw as an issue, because I honestly don't mind spending time with Chris and Nick whenever I'm by their place–which is often. I was actually friends with all of them way before Matt and I began dating.
But when Matt brought up the last time we had gone on a real date, it had been months.
"No, I know. I'm excited too, it's just a new step in our relationship and it feels very...adult? I don't know, I sound silly," I shake my head and he squeezes my thigh again before grabbing my hand.
"Hey, I know what you mean, and you don't sound silly." He softens a bit to reassure me before kissing the back of my hand. My heart warms at his gesture and I squeeze his hand.
"I'm excited to show you one of my favorite places, I still can't believe you've never been. I literally grew up here." He changes the subject as he switches lanes and I see the sign indicating Cape Cod is less than a mile away.
We flew into Boston by ourselves yesterday afternoon and spent the night at his parent's house. It was Matt's idea, saying he didn't mind taking the drive as it wasn't too far from his house in Somerville.
"Are you finally going to tell me what we're doing?" I rub circles into the back of his hand with my thumb.
His mouth quirks to one side pensively but he laughs as soon as he hears me sigh impatiently.
"Okay, okay, you really wanna know?" He drawls out, turning to glance at me for a moment then turning back to the road.
"You know I wanna know," I lean over the divider and stare into the side of his face. He smirks a bit, side-eyeing me a few times before humming.
"Hmm, I think I'll leave you squirming a little longer," He says after a moment.
He exits the highway and I huff, slumping back into my seat.
This place looks like something straight out of a storybook.
The green, hilly scenery takes my breath away. Matt shows me the main street, driving past the historic houses and buildings as families and couples walk down the street. When we round the bend, the dense trees become few and far between and the lush green landscape dissolves into tall grass, sand, and rock as the ocean comes into view.
We drive along the coast the rest of the way and I just stare in awe at the cozy beach town as Matt tells stories of growing up here in the summer.
"That house at the end is the family house," He points to the one on the left.
Pulling into the driveway, Matt puts the car in park before cutting the engine. I go to open my door but he stops me, putting a finger up and getting out of the car himself.
I give him a questioning look before I see him jog to the other side of the car to open my door for me.
"And they say chivalry is dead," I shake my head jokingly and he shrugs with a smirk.
I get out of the car and lean up to give him a quick kiss, we're smiley and giddy when we pull apart. He gives me another kiss before handing me a key.
"Go head inside, I'll grab our bags," He says softly against my lips and I nod quickly.
As I walk past him to make my way to the front door, I feel a light slap to my ass. I go to give him a playful disapproving look, but he's already opening the trunk to grab our stuff and acting like nothing happened.
The house is small and charming.
It belongs to their grandparents and has been the family vacation home for decades. The colorful wind chimes on the front porch sing with the soft breeze. I breathe in the salty air and walk towards the steps leading to the front door.
I twist the key to open the door and I'm engulfed with a warm, inviting scent. There are tons of family pictures on the walls and my heart swells at the baby pictures of the triplets.
I can easily spot Matt in a picture of the three of them on the beach, probably around four or five years old.
Seeing photos of them as children always blows my mind because of how identical they looked.
Matt comes in with our bags, noticing me looking at the photos on the wall.
"You were so fucking cute as a kid," I say going to grab my duffel from him but he takes my hand instead, leading me down the hall to the bedroom.
"Am I not cute now?" He pretends to be offended.
"Eh," I joke back and he opens the door at the end of the hall.
"This is our bedroom, the bathroom is next door on the left," He nods behind us toward the hall.
The bedroom is a pale seafoam green color, the bed adorned with a vintage patchwork quilt lined with a ruffle trim. The room has more family photos hung on the walls and beach-themed decor.
"We can unpack now and then head to the store to grab something for dinner and the next few days. There's definitely no food here. Sound good?" He places our bags on the bed and turns to me, placing his hands on his hips.
He wears a backward camo Boston Red Sox hat, a black tee with a silver chain around his neck, jean shorts, and white New Balance sneakers.
I must have been ogling him for too long because he snaps his fingers in front of my face with a smug expression.
"D'ya hear me, kid, or are you too busy eye-fucking me?" He smiles, licking his lips, and I feel a deep blush bloom from my chest up to my neck.
"Not my fault my boyfriend is so hot," I shrug, trying to recover from his playful callout, and he rolls his eyes, blushing himself.
He shakes his head, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me into his chest. I wrap my arms around his middle, placing my head over his heart as we settle into a moment of comfortable silence.
An intrusive thought takes over, and I squeeze him tighter against me. I hear him groan at the sudden pressure of my grip, and he grabs hold of my arms.
"Okay, okay. Enough with the cuteness-aggression. You're going to break my ribs, kid," He wheezes.
I let up only after he tickles my sides. I squeal as he chases me to the other side of the bed and I finally surrender and ask for mercy. He slaps my ass and tells me I'll pay for it later.
We unpack our stuff and head out to the store to get ingredients for tacos. The one and only thing I've tried to improve in Matt is his cooking skills.
When we first got together, it was concerning how little he knew about cooking along with the number of times a week he'd eat out. I changed that real fast, teaching him basic meals he could make himself that were quick and pretty foolproof. Tacos were one of them.
"Go shower, I'll start dinner." He tells me, putting all of the groceries on the counter.
"You sure you can handle it?" I tease, raising an eyebrow at him.
"Hey, I've gotten better. Didn't you like the salmon I made you the other week?" He points his finger at me and I roll my eyes.
"Yes, my love, I was very proud of you." I lean in and kiss the corner of his mouth, "I'll be quick," I say before going to take my long-awaited shower.
As the hot water cascades over my shoulders, I can't help but let my thoughts drift. This trip is a huge step for us, and despite my nerves, I know it was a much-needed and deserved trip.
We don't really have an anniversary only because we both don't remember the specific date and we never made our being official a big deal. It's never been our style.
But we decided this would be a getaway for our 'anniversary' as next month will be our second summer together.
I finish up and wrap myself in a towel, savoring the lingering warmth before I quickly get dressed. I smell the scent of sizzling meat and spices coming from the kitchen.
When I reach the kitchen, I can't help but smile at the sight of Matt carefully chopping lettuce. His brows furrowed and his tongue poked out in serious concentration.
"Smells amazing in here," I comment, leaning against the doorway.
Matt looks up startled a bit, dropping the knife and putting a hand over his heart. A proud grin quickly spreads across his face when he realizes it's just me.
"You fuckin' scared me. I'm almost done, just need to heat up the tortillas." He gestures for me to come over, and I do, wrapping my arms around his waist from behind.
"You're getting good at this," I compliment, kissing his shoulder as he flips the tortillas.
"Only because I have a great teacher," he replies, turning his head to kiss my cheek.
I help set the table while Matt finishes up. We sit down to eat, the atmosphere cozy and intimate. The tacos are actually delicious, and I make sure to shower Matt with compliments for his efforts. We pop open the sparkling apple cider Mary-Lou and Jimmy gave as a parting gift to us. Digging through the cupboards, we end up finding old plastic flutes to make a quick toast with.
"Here's to us, thank you for making each day brighter. To many more days with you, I love you very much," I say simply, raising my glass. He gets shy and smiley but clinks our glasses.
I can't help but smile at him as he blushes and tries to hide it. I lean in for a kiss and he immediately gives me one.
"I love you more," He whispers against me, pulling me onto his lap and giving me a deeper kiss. "I would say something too, but I don't want to sound stupid,"
"Hush, I already know you're madly in love with me. You made me bomb ass tacos," I joke, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and pulling him into my chest. He giggles and kisses my collarbone.
After dinner, we go to the backyard to watch what's left of the sunset. We put a lawn chair by the water and sit together watching the orange horizon disappear behind the shoreline. The hues of blues and purples melt together in the sky until it grows darker and the moonlight casts a silvery glow on the water.
The sound of the waves is soothing, our breathing in sync as I sit in his lap, his hand drumming lightly on my hip.
"This will continue to be my favorite place, I'm glad I get to share it with you." Matt says, his voice soft and contemplative.
"Thank you for sharing it with me," I reply, squeezing his hand. "I'm really happy we came."
"Me too." He turns to face me, his blue eyes reflecting the moonlight. He goes deep in thought for a moment and he almost goes to say something but stops himself.
I give him a questioning look and nudge him lightly.
"What was that?" I ask gently and he shakes his head.
"Nothing," He tries to brush it off but I grab his chin and turn his face toward me.
"Didn't seem like it," I play with the hair at the nape of his neck.
"I don't wanna freak you out," he says lowly and I give him a pressing look before he sighs deeply, finally giving in.
"I was just imagining our future. I can just see us, you know, bringing our kids here in the summers. They'd grow up with memories of this place like I do," he admits, staring directly at the water as he confesses his inner thoughts.
My heart tightens with emotion at his statement.
"You think about stuff like that?" My voice cracks, tears stinging my eyes and he immediately snaps his head to look at me.
"Hey, why are you crying?" He looks worried, cupping my cheek and using his thumb to catch a tear falling.
"Of course, I think of 'stuff like that' though. Does that scare you?" His voice laced with uncertainty and I shake my head immediately at his foolish question.
"No, no," I say softly, running my hand through his hair tenderly, then tracing his face. Starting from his left eyebrow, down his cheekbone, and over the scruff on his jaw.
His eyes flutter at my soft touch and he grabs my hand, bringing it to his mouth to kiss my knuckles.
"It's actually really sweet, Matt. I didn't think you'd want things like that with me, a family..." I admit and his eyes widen at my foolishness.
"Sweetheart, I hope you know you're it for me. Pretty sure if you ever decide one day you're sick of me, I'll spend the rest of my fucking life alone." He tells me openly and I blubber at his sweet words that pierce my heart more.
"Stop crying," He laughs lightly, getting slightly nervous by my reaction but I try to compose myself.
"You wanna have babies with me," I squeak, crying more and he tosses his head back in laughter as I continue to be a mess.
"Yes, I want 'babies' with you. If you want babies," He smiles, continuing to wipe my tears. "Okay, I love you, but you have snot all over your face," he says motioning all over his face with his finger and I gasp covering my nose.
"I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Now, no more tears" He says and I roll my eyes, hitting his shoulder lightly, laughing a little bit now.
"They're happy tears. I just love you, a lot. It's overwhelming sometimes," I bury my face into his neck and he rubs my back soothingly as I actually compose myself.
I must be severely PMS-ing because I'm never this emotional.
"I know what you mean," He says, my heart swelling once more. "It scares me how much I love you." He kisses my hair but I lift my head for a real one.
We share a tender kiss, the ocean breeze wrapping around us like a comforting embrace.
"I can see it too by the way. Having a family. But way, way in the future," I say when I pull away, fixing the hair on his forehead.
"Oh, yeah for sure. Although, shit happens, who knows." He shrugs and I raise my eyebrow.
"Well, thanks to modern science and my IUD, no kids for at least ten years," I say and his eyes widen a bit.
"Okay, ten years is kinda a long time..." He trails off, catching me off guard.
"Matt!" I say in shock.
"I'm kidding!" He laughs.
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Matt walks into the room after brushing his teeth just as I'm taking the throw pillows off the bed and pulling back the duvet.
I feel his arms wrap around me from behind and his face buries into my neck. He places open-mouth kisses on the curve of my neck, making his way up to my ear, where he grazes his teeth lightly.
I sigh, shuddering at the sensation and allowing my head to fall back against his shoulder.
He puts both hands on my hips this time, pulling my backside into his crotch. I moan at the feeling of him already hardening against me and I press my legs together in anticipation.
"I like this, no one around to interrupt...just us," His voice is velvet and I melt into his hold.
I hum, "Yeah, it's nice," My voice is airy.
"Can be as loud as we want, too..." He chuckles lowly, as I feel one of his hands sneak beneath my sleep shirt.
His fingertips delicately dance up my stomach, barely even touching my skin. Leaving goosebumps in their wake, yearning for his touch.
His hand stops right below my breast and I whine when he doesn't touch me further. I arch hoping to make more contact with his hand, but he doesn't give it to me.
"Matt," I say almost as a whisper, a plea.
"Mm," He hums, returning to kissing my neck. I can hear and feel the smug grin on his face, he knows what game he's playing.
"Touch me," I whine, arching again and lifting myself to reach his hand.
He finally cups my breast, taking my nipple in between his fingers and I gasp as he tugs and pinches gently.
He sucks on my ear lightly, giving it a kitten lick before blowing cold air. I spin around in his hold, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck and pulling him into me.
The kiss was explosive, and we both let out a breath we didn’t realize we were holding.
He wraps his arms around me, pulling our hips flush together and leaning into the kiss more, forcing me to bend back.
In the heat of the moment, we stumble back onto the bed behind us clumsily, my butt slipping off the edge of the bed. I yelp when I almost fall, and laugh into the kiss. Our teeth clink together momentarily as he chuckles too.
He grabs under my thighs, lifting me further onto the bed as I make room for him to settle between them.
"That's better," He breathes out before kissing me again, laying me down on the cool linen sheets.
I revel in the feeling of his weight on top of me, our hips perfectly puzzled together, my hands running through his soft hair, while his rest on my hips.
I tug at the roots of his hair to elicit a delicious sound from him, something primal and guttural.
He squeezes my hips and pulls back to look down at me with half-lidded eyes. His pupils are so blown out you can barely make out the icy blue of his irises.
He keeps eye contact with me as he makes his way lower, lifting my sleep shirt above my breasts. My nipples pebble and harden as they're exposed to the cool air. He places wet kisses down my sternum, then my stomach until he reaches right above my cotton underwear.
He kneels on the floor so he's perfectly aligned in front of my core, his fingers play with the band of my underwear and he smiles to himself shaking his head.
I lean up on my elbows, "What?" I can't help but smile back.
"Kittens?" He raises his eyebrows and smirks at me.
I shrug, not ashamed in the slightest at the pattern of my underwear.
"Yeah, you like 'em?" I deadpan, but break into a grin when he tips his head back and laughs.
Endearingly, of course.
"Very sexy," he replies, and I shriek as he yanks me to the very edge of the bed.
He slips his fingers into the hem of my underwear, finally pulling them down my legs and discarding them. He lightly slaps the inside of my thigh before prying them apart and pinning them.
Just as quick as we're joking about my underwear, I'm back to trembling under his touch.
Completely exposed to him now, he teases me, kissing my inner thighs and nipping at the sensitive skin.
My hips buck at the gentle assault but he keeps me in place, stunting my movements.
"Patience..." he chides and I roll my eyes.
He slaps my thigh a little harder this time and I hiss, my core pulsing at the act. He licks a stripe on each crease of my thigh, purposely ignoring my aching cunt.
His thumbs spread my lips apart before he collects my arousal using it to circle my clit. I whimper at the contact, stopping myself from bucking my hips again.
Matt's in a trance, mouth agape, eyes heavy, as he continues to tease me and I become more and more restless.
Almost as if he couldn't contain himself any longer, he finally buries his head between my thighs. He hungrily licks from my entrance up to my clit, before sucking on my swollen nub like I'm a honeysuckle.
"Fuck," I gasp under my breath, squirming under his grip. My breath shallowed and my heart stuttered.
"I told you, we could be as loud as we want," He slurs against me, flattening his tongue against me and shaking his head side to side quickly.
I let go of a whine before snapping my legs around his head, overwhelmed by pleasure. He growls, immediately prying them back open and relentlessly swirling his tongue against me.
I grab a hold of the hair at the crown of his head as he continues to drink me in. Skillfully lapping every inch of my folds, knowing exactly what to do to get me wound up in merely minutes.
I feel the build-up of my first orgasm, all my muscles going taut as I begin to shake uncontrollably.
Matt knows that I'm about to come, so he pulls his mouth away and replaces it with his fingers. He slips his ring and middle fingers inside me with ease, massaging my front wall and coaxing my orgasm out of me with each gentle drag.
"Oh my fucking god," I cry out, my hips moving with his fingers.
He stands above me now, swiping my hair away from my face and gently caressing my cheekbone. I grab onto his bicep beside me as he leans down to kiss me, swallowing my whimpers.
"C'mon, baby. I can feel you squeezing the fuck outta my fingers. Come for me," His voice is a gentle command against my jaw.
His mouth attaches to my nipple as his thumb smushes into my puffy clit, drawing lazy circles, stimulating me everywhere.
That's all it takes before the wave peaks, then crashes and floods of icy-hot, blinding pleasure courses through me. He moans against me as he feels me pulse and ooze around his fingers.
My nails dig into his bicep and I arch into him, my hips mindlessly riding out the pleasure as his name falls from my lips in a desperate, broken cry.
His mouth and fingers gently work me through the aftershocks before I'm grabbing his wrist and whining from the sensitivity.
"You're so fucking hot," He breathes, kissing me again.
I exhale into him, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him down onto me.
He pulls back, tossing his shirt off his head and undoing his belt, looking down at me as I lay half-naked and panting. I lean up on my elbows and move myself further up the bed.
He's only in his black boxers now, placing a knee on the bed before crawling towards me.
"Wanna taste you," I say, reaching up to kiss his neck and he lets out a shaky breath.
He shakes his head, "I won't fucking make it," he pants, grabbing my jaw and claiming my mouth again.
He pulls back, "As much as I love this fucking mouth," He adds darkly, tracing my swollen lips before licking them sensually and kissing me deeper.
I moan at the kiss and the feel of his cold rings against my hot skin. I run my hands down his chest as our breathing picks up, the kiss becoming more heated.
I run my tongue along his bottom lip and he allows me in before moving his hand down from my jaw to my neck, squeezing gently.
I pull back this time to take my shirt off, leaving me completely bare in front of him. I then hook my fingers in the band of his boxers and pull them down just enough to free him. His dick springs up, the tip so red it looks painful.
I spit into my hand before taking him into my hand and giving him a couple of strokes, swiping his weeping tip with my thumb. He whimpers at the touch before grabbing my wrist and making me release him.
I pout, bringing my thumb to my mouth to suck off his precum. His mouth falls agape at the sight, and his eyes screw shut as he falls onto one of his hands weakly.
"What's wrong?" I make sure my voice is dripping like sweet, gooey honey. Tempting a very hungry grizzly bear.
He grits his teeth, straightening himself back up on his knees in front of me. I look up at him, my hand rubbing up and down his thigh.
"You're going to be the death of me," His voice is gritty, and I tilt my head innocently. I yelp when he grabs my hips and flips me over.
It's moments like these that remind me of his surprising strength.
He pulls me onto my knees so my cheek is pressed into the mattress and my ass is elevated, leaving me exposed and shaking with anticipation.
His hand comes down onto my asscheek and I hiss at the sting. I feel his dick poke the back of my thigh as his hand smooths over my ass to ease the burn.
"Matt, please," I pant when he kisses down my spine and I push my hips back impatiently.
"Need my cock that bad, hm?" he murmurs against my skin and I nod quickly.
"Need you inside me, please," I whine, not caring how desperate I sound, only focused on how his low chuckle makes my core pulse around nothing.
"Yeah?" He croons and my breath hitches when I feel him run his tip along my aching pussy. Knocking against my clit with each teasing stroke.
"Yes-" I whimper and then gasp when I feel the familiar, delicious stretch of him.
I grip the sheets as he grips my hips harshly, slowly entering me.
"Fuuuck," He strains out, and I can picture the vein in his neck protruding, wishing I could lick it.
He fills me completely, his hips flush against my ass. I whimper as I feel him buried deep inside me, hitting a sensitive spot that turns my legs into jelly.
He begins guiding me in a gentle rhythm, slow and deliberate, determined to make this last. His thrusts are deep, intentionally angling down to hit the spot that he knows makes me see stars.
"You feel so fucking good, so deep," I praise him and he slightly picks up the pace.
My core tightens around him involuntarily and he hisses, his grip on my hip becoming almost painfully tight.
"Fuck, don't do that. I'll come too fast," He pulls back slightly, trying to steady himself.
"I don't care," I push back against him again, just wanting to feel him.
He curses under his breath, his hands firm on my hips to stop my movements. He pulls me up by my hair, my back against his chest now and I laugh maniacally before moaning at the fresh angle.
"Must you always be so defiant?" His breath is hot against my ear and I can't help the grin on my face. I love getting him riled up.
"I like it when you push me around," I admit, my voice dripping with playful challenge.
He releases his grip on my hair, and I catch myself on my hands, bracing for whatever comes next.
"Yeah? You like it when I'm rough?" He presses, his voice low and taunting.
"Mhm," I hum pressing my hips back again but he pulls out, leaving me feeling empty.
I go to whine in protest but I'm shut up with the hardest slap of the night, right on top of the red mark he left before.
I cry out and bury my face into the sheets again, but quiver with longing for more.
"That's what you wanted, right?" He continues to taunt and spanks me again but this time, on the other side.
I moan and go to rub my clit for some sort of relief but he grabs both my wrists, knocking me down further.
Another smack. I groan this time in frustration.
He gathers my wrists in one hand as I feel him lean over me. His hand sneaks around to find my neck as he presses his mouth against my ear.
"Are you just that fucking desperate?" He queries, his fingers pressing into my pulse points, just enough for my head to lighten.
"Please, Matt." I plea, but don't exactly know what I'm pleading for.
"What's the matter, baby, you can't handle it anymore? Thought you liked me pushing you around," He tuts.
His free hand lifts my hips before he teases my entrance with his tip and I let out a shaky breath.
"Hm? Nothing to say?" He pushes his tip in but pulls back and I whine at the teasing.
He releases my neck to brush my hair away so he can see the side of my face. A reminder that he's still the caring Matt I love.
"Just fuck me, please," I beg and he sighs deeply.
"You're so fucking lucky I love you,” he says through his teeth before he drives into me again in one swift motion.
Both of us moan in relief, the tension finally being broken.
He grinds his hips down into me teasingly and my eyes roll back at the intense, tight angle.
I feel his body heat leave my back as he straightens out behind me. Placing his hands on my lower back, he leans forward causing my back to arch before slamming into me. Again and again and again.
Each breath is knocked out of me, and each blow is deeper than the last, discovering a new spot inside of me and pushing me closer and closer to the edge. His pace quickens with every approving sound I make, answering me with his own moans of approval.
He turns me onto my back, staying inside me, wrapping my leg around his waist before leaning forward to kiss me slowly.
"Mm, missed your face," he admits softly, his thrusts starting off slow but steadily increasing momentum. "Wanna see that pretty face when I make you come," he coos, and I shriek at a particularly hard thrust that sends me further up the bed.
He watches my face the entire time, studying every furrow, every eye roll, mirroring my expressions as if he can feel everything he is doing to me.
I can tell he's trying to distract himself, to last longer, slowing down to kiss me and then picking up the pace.
My second orgasm build-up is slower and more subtle. It almost comes out of nowhere, but he knows my body so well. He reaches down to stimulate my clit, deepening his strokes, driving me to the brink.
"Oh my god, oh my god, oh-" My back arches, and my ears ring as my orgasm rips me apart.
"Good girl, fucking come for me–oh fuck. I'm coming–I'm gonna come. W-where do you want me to-" He rushes out, as my pussy continues to spasm around him.
Through my haze, I push my heels into his hips and grab the back of his neck.
"I-inside, come inside me," I pant and he shudders, whimpering.
"Oh my–fucking, fuck," He strains as he comes and I moan at the feeling of him filling me up.
He pushes as deep as he can inside me, and the aftershocks of my orgasm milk him further causing him to hiss.
He collapses into my collarbone, his hair drenched in sweat as he takes a moment to regain strength.
I place a hand in his hair and scratch his back lightly as we settle into a steady breathing rhythm.
"Holy fuck," he says eventually into my neck, laughing a little and I giggle too.
"Wait, wait don't laugh-" He pulls away with his face scrunched and I realize he's still inside me.
He hisses again in sensitivity, looking down at where we're connected before pulling out of me carefully. I whimper at the feeling and he softly apologizes.
I feel his come leak out of me and I watch his expression falter for a second as he notices the sight.
"Fuck me," he says under his breath, shaking his head and I bite my lip to stop myself from giggling.
I slowly reach my hand down to play with myself and his eyes widen as he quickly grabs my hand to stop me.
"Are you trying to kill me tonight? No, I'm cleaning you up and we're going to bed. Stay right there, don't fucking move." He gets up, pointing at me as he walks away.
I cover my mouth and laugh at his reaction. He comes back with a wet washcloth, using it to wipe me carefully.
He huffs out again, shaking his head and I give him a knowing look.
"Devil woman, don't look at me like that." He tries to sound stern, but his voice cracks with nerves.
"I love you," I tell him, meaning it. His eyes soften and he leans over me, a hand on either side of my head. He scans my face, a soft smile carves into his face before he leans down to kiss me.
"We really need our own place," he says when he pulls back and my stomach flips.
"What was that?" I ask him with wide eyes.
"I said we really need a shower, c'mon," He lies, laughing as he tries to pull me up but I'm tugging him back towards me.
'Hey, get back here. That's not what you said," I laugh at his antics but he runs away towards the bathroom before I hear him call back.
"I plead the fifth!"
#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#matthew sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader#the sturniolo triplets#sturniolo smut#sturniolohouse#matt stuniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo smut
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Hi i just found your writing and I adore it! I especially like "too young to love" series even if I'm an adult lol
I don't know if you're taking requests so feel free to ignore it if you don't feel comfortable~ How would yanderes react if reader decided on her own to date them once they're of age? I imagine darling asked them to wait because they like them a lot and doesn't want their crush to be treated badly for dating a minor. Of course it's your choice to write your favourites! I hope you have a nice day!
Hi!! Thank you so much for your sweet words—I’m so glad you’re enjoying the Too Young to Love series, and no worries at all, you're totally welcome to request more even as an adult! 💕
Too Patient to Love
Synopsis: You asked them to wait. Not because you didn’t care, but because you did—and you didn’t want your feelings to be twisted, disrespected, or questioned by the world around you. Now that you’re finally of age, you make the choice for yourself. And for once, the ones who had spent so long clinging to the edge of obsession must come to terms with what it means when love is freely given—when you are the one who reaches out. Pairings: [Separate] Yandere Diluc, Kaeya, Xiao, Wanderer, Zhongli x Legal Reader
Diluc – The Reluctant Guardian
Diluc had spent years keeping his distance, convinced that any affection for you was too dangerous for someone as young as you were. He saw you as a bright, shining star, too pure to be tainted by his darkness. But now that you were of age, the moment you stepped into his office, his heart skipped a beat. He was still trying to make sense of the overwhelming emotions swirling inside him.
When you told him, in your calm, confident way, that you wanted to date him now—because you were ready, because you wanted to make it known—his world shifted. His protective instincts were still there, yet now there was a deep longing in his gaze, something possessive that he had never allowed himself to feel before.
"Diluc… I like you a lot, and I want to be with you. I don’t want to wait anymore. You’re not a burden to me, and I don’t want to keep pretending I don’t feel this way about you." You spoke with undeniable maturity in your voice, and the way you looked at him, with such sincerity, nearly broke him.
"I've always liked you," you said, your voice steady but gentle. "But I had to ask you to wait. Because I know people would look at you in a suspicious manner if you dated a minor. But I'm ready now. I'm ready to be with you."
The words hit him like a storm—he hadn’t prepared for this, not truly. All those years spent guarding you, watching you, had left him with an overwhelming sense of possessiveness. But hearing you speak of it so calmly… it made him hesitate.
He was silent for a long time, his gaze flickering with a storm of emotions. Finally, he stepped closer, his hand trembling as he gently cupped your face. His voice was hoarse. "I've waited too long for this… but I could never… never let anyone take you from me now. Not after everything."
The words were possessive, but laced with a tenderness only you would understand. His need for you had always been there, buried deep. He would never let you go.
Kaeya – The Charming Enigma
Kaeya’s grin was always just a little too knowing, too smooth, too composed. He’d watched you grow, and had indulged in the moments of jealousy when your gaze wandered toward others. He never said anything, of course—he was too suave, too skilled in playing the game of patience. But when you finally came to him, asking for his affection in return, that very same grin took on a different meaning.
"So, you’ve finally made up your mind, hm?" His voice was playful, teasing, but the underlying tension in his shoulders betrayed just how intense the situation was for him.
"I’ve always liked you," you said softly, "but I wanted to wait... for you, for me. I don’t want anyone else. You’re the one I want to be with now."
Kaeya leaned in, brushing his lips against your ear. "You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you to say that," he whispered. "But now that you’ve made the decision, well… I suppose there’s no turning back, is there?"
His eyes darkened, that familiar, mischievous spark taking on a new intensity. "You’re mine now. No one else can have you. And trust me," he smirked, "there’s no way you’ll regret it."
His love, possessive as it was, always carried an air of danger. But now, with your consent, it was all-consuming.
Xiao – The Reluctant Protector
Xiao had always been distant, protective in his own silent way. He rarely let anyone get too close, and when you were younger, he kept his distance to avoid giving in to the desire to keep you by his side forever. He had seen countless people come and go, and the thought of you leaving him—being taken from him—had haunted him, especially in your younger years.
His existence was bound by duty, by the need to protect, to sacrifice for the greater good. He’d always kept his distance, always made sure to avoid the intimacy he craved. But when you told him, with such determination, that you were of age and ready to make this bond with him, it sent a shock through him. His stoic, emotionless mask cracked for just a moment.
"Xiao… I’ve waited, I really have. But I’m ready. I want to be with you now, and I want you to see me as your equal. I want to share my life with you." Your voice was steady, but your eyes held a depth of emotion that he couldn’t ignore.
His piercing gaze softened for a fraction of a second, but the stillness in his eyes was enough to tell you just how much he was struggling with the idea. “You shouldn’t want me. You don’t understand what it means to be with someone like me.”
You shook your head. “I’ve always understood. I’m not afraid. I want you.”
Xiao’s breath caught in his throat. His heart, which he had buried so deeply under years of isolation, ached with the weight of your words. “I will not be able to protect you from the pain of being with me. I will not be able to keep you from the darkness that follows me.”
You stepped closer, touching his cheek softly. “I’ve never been afraid of the dark.”
And that was all it took. Xiao pulled you into him with a force that could have knocked the wind out of you. His lips found yours in a desperate kiss, as if to remind you that he would never let go again.
The world would never take you from him. Not even the karma that follows him.
Wanderer – The Lost Soul
The Wanderer had always been a bit unpredictable, to say the least. With his complicated history, it was impossible to know what he truly wanted—especially when it came to you. But after so much time together, after so many small moments shared in silence, the longing that had been growing inside him could no longer be ignored.
When you came to him, your words soft but firm, telling him you were of age and wanted to finally be with him, his eyes widened. He stood still for a moment, as if frozen by the weight of your declaration.
“I know you’ve waited. I’ve waited too. I’m ready now,” you said, voice steady, but your eyes gave away the emotions you’d been hiding for years. “I want to be with you. Not as a child. But as an equal.”
Wanderer’s eyes glinted, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before his lips curled into a smile—one that was too dark, too twisted for comfort. “You have no idea what you’re asking for, do you?”
You held your ground. “I know exactly what I’m asking.”
His laugh was cold, but there was a flicker of something softer in his eyes. “You’ve been foolish to wait for me, to choose me. But now that you have…” His voice lowered, almost to a whisper. “I’ll make sure you never regret this.”
His love for you, once hidden beneath layers of bitterness and pain, now fully enveloped you. You had claimed him, and he would never let you go.
Zhongli – The Stoic Guardian
Zhongli had always been patient, always so composed. He treated you with such care, as if you were a delicate treasure, too precious to be harmed. Yet when you finally approached him, telling him you were ready to take that step, to finally be with him as an equal, something inside him cracked.
"Zhongli… I’ve waited. I want this. I want you," you said, your voice soft but firm.
He blinked, his usually calm expression faltering for just a moment. "My dear… are you sure?" His voice was a whisper, his gaze searching your face as if trying to discern whether this was a fleeting decision.
You nodded, your hand reaching out to touch his. "I’ve thought about this for a long time. I’m ready. I want to be with you."
Zhongli exhaled softly, his thumb gently stroking your hand. "Then… I shall be yours. I have waited for this moment, but know this," he added, his voice taking on a deeper, more possessive tone, "I will protect you, cherish you, and love you in ways you’ve never known. You are mine now, and I will never let anyone take you away."
His love was patient, but it was also unyielding, and now that you had chosen him, he would move heaven and earth to ensure that no one could ever come between you.
#shizuwrites#writers on tumblr#fyppage#fypシ#fyp#yandere#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin impact headcanons#genshin yandere#yandere genshin impact#diluc ragnvindr#genshin diluc#diluc x reader#diluc#genshin impact diluc#diluc x you#yandere diluc#genshin impact kaeya#genshin kaeya#kaeya x reader#kaeya alberich#yandere kaeya#xiao#xiao x reader#genshin impact xiao#genshin xiao#xiao genshin impact#genshin#wanderer
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Training Wheels
Masterlist TW: neglect, but mostly fluff

Ridin' down, ridin' down My hand on your seat the whole way round I carry Band-Aids on me now For when your soft hands hit the jagged ground Wheels aren't even touchin' the ground Scared to take them off, but they're so worn down Promise I won't push you straight to the dirt If you promise me you'll take them off first
'Come on Jon, hurry up we're almost there.'
You remember the time when you first saw Jon when he was playing games with Damian. Let's face it, you were downright in love with him, you didn't really knew how to deal with it since you've been deprived of that since birth.
You've always thought of him as a night in shining armor. He'd always bring you gifts in your birthday, sometimes give you books to read when you're bored. But it was satisfying for now.
I love everything you do When you call me fuckin' dumb for the stupid shit I do Wanna ride my bike with you Fully undressed, no training wheels left for you And I'll pull them off for you I love everything you do When you call me fuckin' dumb for the stupid shit I do Wanna ride my bike with you Fully undressed, no training wheels left for you And I'll pull them off for you
There's no doubt in the world that you love him. You'd laugh together, sometimes take you to the movies, and even invite you to his farm for lunch during recess. But you, you loved him, you wanted to stick with him forever and didn't want anyone to ruin the moment.
Some might say you're stupid for relying on a boy who is friends with the very people who've neglected and abandoned you. But no one can stand on the way of love right?
Lettin' go, lettin' go Tellin' you things you already know I explode, I explode Askin' you where you want us to go You've been ridin' two-wheelers all your life It's not like I'm askin' to be your wife I wanna make you mine, but that's hard to say Is this comin' off in a cheesy way?
You loved the fact that he is dating you, but you'd never know if he felt the same way. So far in your relationship it's based on wishful thinking. Who's to judge a now-legal adult for being in a relationship with a person she's been head over heels for?
But what you didn't know was that Jon truly love you and cherish your memories together. He even has his own job where he can afford a 10 karat princess-cut sapphire ring. (Also thanks from stealing Conner's money.) He prepared your guys future together as parents, while you were prepared to let him go with the assumption that he doesn't love you.
I love everything you do When you call me fuckin' dumb for the stupid shit I do Wanna ride my bike with you Fully undressed, no training wheels left for you And I'll pull them off for you I love everything you do When you call me fuckin' dumb for the stupid shit I do Wanna ride my bike with you Fully undressed, no training wheels left for you And I'll pull them off for you
You'd be surprised with how much he has prepared for your future together.
Damian, on the other hand, paid no mind to you, and failed to notice Jon's past attempts into dating you. He remains completely oblivious to the fact that his best friend is dating the girl that no one would bat an eye for.
10 years later...
Your wedding was completely peaceful since it was held in a small chapel in Metropolis. Only the Kents including Alfred and some trusted friends were invited to the party. And by trusted friends you meant the whole damn Justice League without the bats.
'I Y/N take Jon as my lawfully wedded husband to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do us part'
'I Jon take Y/N as my lawfully wedded wife to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do us part'
Cheers could be heard even from outside the chapel. But the bats never truly knew why the whole League didn't attend the meeting and instead called in sick, out of planet, or family issues.
It was only until they saw in the news:
'MS, or should I say MRS WAYNE KENT JUST GOT MARRIED AND THE WHOLE WAYNE FAMILY DIDN'T ATTEND!'

A/N: this was actually one of my favorites of Crybaby
Taglist
@lunayaps, @not-aya, @iluvcatzz, @vanessa-boo, @ivyrose9194,@thesehandsarerated-e, @eyeless-kun, @errorunfound1, @gwyneveire
#yandere batfam x reader#yandere batfam#yandere bruce wayne#yandere damian wayne#yandere richard grayson#yandere jason todd#yandere barbara gordon#yandere tim wayne#gifs#neglected reader#melanie martinez#crybaby reader
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A young adult Yuu II
Yuu is isekaied into twisted wonnderlar, but they are a "independent" adult in their 20's, college ended and who is fighting for finding a job and survive.
[Previous] [Next]
Having the vision about the queen of hearts
Yuu: *waking up all of a sudden* I think I should put down that herbal tea…..
Ace: *after almost knocking the door down* I need you to let me stay here.
Yuu: *with squinted eyes* If you wake me up again at this hour you'll stay out, I'm in an age and if I don't sleep I don't yield.
Ace: Ah! whatever, from today on I'm part of this dorm!
Yuu: I don't feel ready and I'm not old enough to have a teenager in my charge. ….
Ace: *wearing Riddle's collar*
Yuu: What weird discipline methods are used in the magical world.
Ace: This was done to me by my housewarden!!!!
Yuu: …
Yuu: What weird bullying methods you guys use in the magic world.
Ace: NO IT IS NOT!!!
Deuce and Ace discussing about Riddle
Yuu: *to Grim* I think this Riddle guy is going to be a problem child.
Grim: Technically he's our superior.
Yuu: ...
Yuu: There goes what little authority I had left….
Entering Heartslabyul dorm.
Grim: This place is incredible!
Ace: *smiling* This is much better than that dump you call a dorm.
Deuce: What do you think Yuu?
Yuu: My gosh to clean all this… so much ornamentation, what a lot of dust that has to accumulate…
Ace and Deuce: …
Yuu: And so many rosebushes, damn, how much water has to be spent on watering.
Deuce: Looks like we're all going to the same class.
Grim: I'm going to outdo all of you.
Yuu: I'm practically your legal guardian already, no one can convince me otherwise at this point.
Crewel: …
Yuu: …
Crewel: You-
Yuu: Don't say another word, I've got enough on my plate.
Crewel: Let's get together once in a while after class, it'll be good for you.
Yuu: Thank you, I could really use someone who isn't a mess of hormones.
Crewel: *putting a hand on their shoulder* My condolences.
In the cafeteria.
Yuu: The food is good!
Ace: Of course this a prestigious school!
Yuu: And it's free!
Deuce: A-are you ok?
Yuu: *almost crying* I won't have to break my head thinking about what to eat every day.
Yuu: So the students are separated into dorms according to their abilities?
Cater: That is.
Yuu: My 10 year old self is shaking.
Cater: ?
Yuu: I'm in a magical school separated by houses, suck on that reality!!!
Riddle: Rules must always be obeyed!
Yuu: *sarcastic* Yes, of course, because people in positions of power always follow the rules.
Riddle: The world works because of the rules!
Yuu: Oh my boy, what a beating you're going to get when you leave school *sighing*
In the botanical garden
Grim: Are you the gardener?
Yuu: Grim!! this kind of work is very hard, *to Leona* you must be very tired, I apologize.
Leona: Tsk, I'm a student.
Yuu: *confused* And shouldn't you be in class?
Leona: And shouldn't you be out of school and working?
Yuu: Ouch.
Trey: You're pretty good at cooking.
Yuu: Ha, ha, ha, I've been living on my own for a long time, although this sweets thing is new.
Trey: Why?
Yuu: I didn't have the time or money for that many ingredients.
Deuce: *believing that chicks can born from any egg*
Yuu: My maternal instinct is getting triggered again?
Yuu: *seeing Cater's ability* I could really use that ability, fuck magic with fire and lights, I want to do several things at the same time.
Riddle rejecting the cake
Ace: All our work!
Yuu: Ha ha, how nostalgic…. this reminds me of my first job, the exploitation….
Deuce: What ??
Yuu: *with an empty stare* Yeah, you know, all your hard work and dedication thrown away, like this cake.
Ace: *to Deuce* Are we going to become like this when we grow up ???
Deuce: React yuu!!!
Yuu: *come to their senses* How can you throw food away? I can tell you've never been hungry!
Ace: Aaaand back to "responsible" adult mode.
Trey after explaining Riddle's past
Yuu: So mommy issues? Ha, ha, welcome to the club.
Yuu: Do you think it's okay to have students fighting with magic in this way?
Crowley: It's a healthy duel.
Yuu: How can you still be the director of a place full of minors?
Yuu: Today's teenagers are scary!
Crowlwy: Not all our students are like that!!!
Yuu: Are you implying that you're scared of Riddle too?
Crowley: ...
Crowley: Today's teenagers are scary.
Yuu: Please, somebody stop him, the kid is going to get a stroke, he won't make it to 20 if he keeps going like this.
Deuce: Do something Yuu!!!
Yuu: And what do you want me to do? I haven't inherited my mother's chancla ability yet.
Riddle overblot
Yuu: This change can only mean one thing… I don't know if I'm ready for this... but as an adult I have to take care of it…
Grim: ??
Yuu: * to Riddle* I know you're going through a difficult time, it's normal, but it's also natural. We all go through these changes in our body
Ace and Deuce: That's not !!!!
Yuu: Isn't that puberty in the magical world?!?!!!!
Trey and Cater: NOOO!!!!
Yuu: *after seeing Riddle's flashback* Someone please bring the little boy a strawberry cake.
Riddle: *apologizing and saying everything he wanted to do*
Yuu: That's it, get me on that mother, let's have an adult to adult talk.
Crowley: Yuu no.
Yuu: I'll show her what respectful parenting is NOT.
Riddle: I want to apologize for what happened.
Yuu: Oh, don't worry, it's okay, although I still don't get that magic thing.
Riddle: It was childish behavior.
Yuu: …
Riddle: I wish I could be as mature as you.
Yuu: Hey, don't be in a hurry to grow up. That adulthood thing is a scam, you never feel mature enough.
Riddle: But-
Yuu: What matters is not to be more grown up in certain situations, it's to learn from them and take a note for the next one. And even if I seem more mature as you say, I'm just as lost as you are in some things, don't let anyone fool you, adults don't have everything under control.
Riddle: Thank you…
Yuu: And let me give you some advice, the family tree can also be pruned.
.
.
#twisted wonderland#Young adult Yuu#twst#mc twisted wonderland#grim twisted wonderland#ace twisted wonderland#deuce twisted wonderland#crowley twisted wonderland#twst crowley#crowley#deuce twst#deuce spade#twst deuce#ace trappola#ace twst#twst ace#grim twst#twst grim#yuu twisted wonderland#yuu twst#twst yuu#twisted wonderlad#twst au
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I honestly like Cersei more than HOTD Rhaenyra because Cersei is highly motivated and is more honest about her flaws than Rhaenyra is even if that means embracing them and getting worse. The comparisons between Rhaenyra and Cersei are rather apt and even then Cersei still wins out because she's funner to root for and hate.
I'm also surprised that so many people assume that Targaryens like Visenya, Daella and Aemma would automatically hate Alicent. If anything all of them would be understanding towards Alicent. Visenya would understand Alicent's desire to do what she thinks is best for her son by putting him on the throne. Aemma would sympathize with Alicent because she was the only other person that would understand how poorly Viserys treated her and would be angry that Viserys married another young girl just to set her aside for his kid, even if she'd automatically side with Rhaenyra. Even Daella would sympathize with Alicent if she had the capacity to fully understand the situation Jaehaerys put her in because she was treated like a pet by Rodrik Arryn, bullied by his children even though one of them was older than her and expressed how scary her pregnancy was in the one letter she wrote to Alysanne on her own. Alicent was put into a horrible situation, being used as an older man's backup plan and tossed aside when her kids weren't as valuable to him as Rhaenyra was. (I don't care if she was 18 in the books, she was still pushed into marrying a 29 year old man as a barley legal adult and it was implied that she was groomed by Jaehaerys before his death.) Just because someone is born into the Targaryen family doesn't automatically mean that their sense of sympathy is gone when they see an in-law being treated poorly by a spouse born into their family.
Exactly! Visenya wouldn't care about Rhaenyra. She wouldn't care that she wants to name her daughter after her because she would think it obvious to do so. She is a Conquer so why the fuck not? And she wouldn't hold back on calling the Strong boys bastards when she hears their last names. It's Visenya she isn't kind, she is a warrior queen who was probably the most politically savvy of her siblings next to Rhaenys. She would express admiration to Alicent because she took power in a place where her husband made it where she had none.
Aemma would've called out Rhaenyra the moment she looked at her sons and heard they were Velaryons. She is from the Vale, the second most religious kingdom in the Seven Kingdoms. She would instantly know and wouldn't hold back. It may seem kind but she would make it known what she thinks of those boys. And yes she would have sympathy for Alicent. And she would be pissed at Viserys. I mean she died to give him a son and now that he has three he ignores all of them? She would see it as a slander to her name and all she tried to give him before she ever felt honored he kept Rhaenyra his heir.
And Daella would be very similar to Aemma in the aspect of Rhaenyra and her bastard. I mean her parents were Alysanne and Jaehaeyrs. The same people who turned a blind eye to Saera for sleeping with a man before marriage, the same people who didn't care about their daughter Vissera so much that she died trying to have last night of freedom. And TB Rhaenyra stans think she will be kind to Rhaenyra? No she would stay quiet but she would judge her and eye her in the most obvious ways. And with Alicent she would feel awful she has no one with her with each birth because that is what Daella was gonna go through and did go through.
I've also seen some say Alysanne would defend Rhaenyra and I agree...until Rhaenyra had Jace. She would turn her back and help Alicent in any way she can.
Thank you for the ask Anon!
#house of the dragon#hotd#team green#pro team green#anti team black#anti rhaenyra targaryen#alicent hightower#anti rhaenyra stans#anti tb stans#anti team black stans#pro alicent hightower#visenya the conqueror#queen visenya#visenya targaryen#queen aemma#aemma arryn#aemma targaryen#daella targaryen#anon answered#anon ask#thanks anon!#anons welcome#anonymous#send anons#asks open#asks#ask me anything#send asks#ask
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Even very progressive, kinky people think about "protecting children" the wrong way imo. I wish kinky people wouldn't insist on telling minors to disengage from the scene completely until they're older. The line between "educating" and "participating" in kink is too blurry to be useful.
I'm so grateful I found other people with my fetish online as a kid. I clung to the snippets and articles I found as early as middle school. It probably changed the trajectory of my life. I didn't have to go through the pain of trying to make vanilla marriages work like so many people do because I had a clearer idea of what I was and I knew there were other people out there who wanted the same. Researching and exploring my fetish as a child was hugely beneficial for my wellbeing.
unfortunately, kink communities feel very much beholden to the law and to maintaining social respectability, and so they replicate a lot of the same unhelpful attitudes towards sex and it's separation from regular life, especially as doing so pertains to kids. you see people on here claiming to be personally victimized or put at risk when a person under 18 follows them for example, as if it is the child in that dynamic that is responsible for anything that has happened, or people will simplistically claim that no one who is not of legal age can or should ever participate in kinky activities -- when that's just not realistic to how the budding sexualities of kinky young people who are sexually active will play out. people are reasonably very afraid of being accused of grooming or praying upon minors, and so they have to protect themselves and their spaces against the appearance of such things, but what this means in practice is that young people who are curious about kink or who are already sexually active are even more isolated from helpful resources and adults that could potentially assist them if they got themselves into a dangerous situation. and if anything it delays them developing negotiation and safety skills with regard to their sexual practice. it sucks.
I know that I was certainly heavily engaged in the kink community online as a young teenager, and that consuming blogs and media about my various fetishes was enriching and positive for me. if I hadn't had that outlet, I might have been even more likely to seek out the power dynamics that I craved through imbalanced relationships with actual people. furthermore I wouldn't have even had any knowledge that the desires I was experiencing were fetishes, and could be satisfied in a relatively safe way. I would have just felt all the same longings and lacked any framework for how to meet them or negotiate them. that already ended up being a problem for me -- for many years I got into abusive relationships to satisfy my need for control rather than seeking out control within a consensual kinky relationship-- but I'm really thankful that I at least realized there were fetishes that I had, even if it took me years to believe that I could speak about them to anyone or seek them out intentionally.
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Sealed by the Storm (jj.m)
chapter four


pairing: jj maybank x reader; marriage of convenience
content warning(s): references to mommy issues (reader), references to loss of a parent (reader), angst
author's note: i'm so so sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter up. it ended up being a bit harder than i expected. thank you for your patience! just a little warning i will be changing the pov in this series to 2nd person (working on fixing the other parts).
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When the Pogues were dividing the Maybank Property, you didn’t get closet space. Your room was an extra storage closet with just enough room to fit a twin bed, a mirror you’d mounted on the wall, and a small nightstand with two drawers. When you first arrived at the Outer Banks, after El Dorado, you had nothing except literally the clothes on your back, so you didn’t see the point in arguing for more space. Since the OBX has become your home, you’ve gotten more things– usually, having to ask Cleo to put some of your clothing in her and Pope’s closet– but not enough because you can’t find anything white right now. Not even jeans. Sarah had insisted that if you didn’t wear white, the whole thing would seem rushed– more rushed than it already seemed– and that every part of this production had to appear genuine.
You’re still trying to figure out how Cleo convinced you to get married. When you left all the Pogues on the porch last night, there was no way you were going to marry JJ. It wasn’t just about JJ. Your unstable upbringing jaded your view on many things, and love was probably one of them. You didn’t doubt that love was real, and the last two years had taught you that it existed in abundance. But love was temporary, with a shelf life that only lasted until one party found something more important to stick their heart to. You haven’t given it much thought, to be honest, what you think of love now that you’ve found this version of a home. It seems contradictory to concern yourself with something as fleeting as love when you’ve finally stopped defining your life by trying to survive day-to-day. Instead, you’ve focused on the other relationships in your life. For the first time, in maybe ever, you have friends, plural. Loyal and lively friends. You also have adults who care about you without expecting something in return. You can show up at the Heywards’ door at an ungodly hour, and they won’t blink an eye.
While you haven’t thought about love since settling down, you know exactly how you feel about marriage.
Marriage isn’t just soft-spoken promises of I love you and forever; it is a transaction, a business deal and a power struggle made to look pretty with red ribbons of romance and confident vows of companionship. You had seen it yourself, watched as the winning smiles of the person you loved most had only ever been disarming grins all along. Marriage hadn’t stopped your mother from betraying your family, nor had it shielded you from pain. No, it had been the weapon your mother used to get exactly what she’d always wanted, even more than her daughter. It didn’t matter if the union is built on love because marriage is the issue's root. The legal entanglement makes people greedy, leaving their spouses a casualty of the games.
You don’t know how you feel about love, but you know that marriage is a trap you never expected to find yourself in. Yet, here you are, about to fall off the precipice of the very thing you fear. You are going to permit another person to pull you into this game by signing off on a dotted line. And you weren’t even in love.
You find a beige skirt buried deep in a drawer of your nightstand and figure it’s close enough to white. You begin looking for a shirt when you hear a short knock followed by the door opening. Sarah walks in with her hair wrapped in a green towel, holding something in her hands.
“You know,” You say, plopping down on your bed, relieved for this break from looking for an outfit. “Usually, people wait for a response when they knock.”
Sarah smiles, sitting on the bed and bumping her shoulder against yours. “Force of habit. I always used to barge into Wheezie’s.” Sarah’s expression is some mix of fondness and longing that makes you want to squeeze the girl who has become like a sister to you. Instead, you just slip your hand into Sarah’s and gave it a light squeeze. If you stop to acknowledge every unfair thing life dealt all of you, you would never get anything done. Sarah nods at your other hand, where the beige skirt is balled in a fist. “No luck finding anything white?”
You shake your head with a groan. “No. It’s fine. Beige is close enough.”
“It is so not fine,” Sarah’s exasperation is completely unnecessary in your opinion, but you let her continue. “If we want to make all this believable, every detail counts. A girl marrying the love of her life would care that beige is not white.”
You give Sarah a sarcastic smile. “What about girls marrying a friend they can sometimes tolerate?” Sarah’s smile matches yours, but a line forms between her brows.
“Hey, why are you stressing?” You reach up to smooth out the divot. “I’m the one getting married.”
“No, it’s not that,” Sarah lets her denial sit between you two, not immediately offering any explanation. Her lips purse sideways, her brows furrowing further, a telltale sign that she is having difficulty keeping something to herself. Just as you expect, Sarah breaks without any additional pushing from you. “It’s just that… why are you so hard on JJ?”
“Are you seriously asking me that, Sar?” You roll your eyes, getting up from the bed. You walk towards your nightstand, training your focus on folding the useless skirt and putting it back in the bottom drawer.
“Yeah, actually,” Sarah’s voice is serious, a tone she seldom uses. Unleashing her hair from the towel, Sarah throws it at your nightstand. “I am.”
It only takes a minute for the skirt to be put neatly away, leaving you nothing to avoid Sarah and this conversation. You turn to face Sarah, whose eyebrows were now raised instead of furrowed.
“Sarah, it’s like you guys forget everything he’s done.”
“Of course we haven’t forgotten, but we forgave him. That’s what friends do.”
“You can’t forgive someone who hasn’t apologized,” You argue.
Sarah shakes her head, her eyes shifting to the ceiling as if she is in deep thought. “JJ…” Sarah trails off again, seemingly unable to explain herself. “He’s not good with words—”
You cut Sarah off with a scoff and cross your arms across your chest. “JJ is amazing with his words. He can get himself out of anything.”
“That’s not what I mean,” Sarah’s tone, while it remains serious, doesn’t match yours. She remains calm as she continues. “I used to get annoyed too, you know? When I first started dating John B, we were all so caught up in the Denmark treasure, but after a while, I noticed the same things you do. He was always getting caught up in some shit he’d start, and all of us somehow ended up stuck with him in whatever web he’d spun.”
JJ and Sarah resemble siblings in more than appearances; they often fight just like you assume normal siblings would. Fights over things like the rules of a board game or stolen leftovers usually end at the beginning of wrestling matches, that John B has to stop by physically removing Sarah from the room. However, you have yet to see Sarah genuinely upset with JJ. The Pogues never really fight, so Sarah’s lack of anger isn’t out of the ordinary, but you could never picture a time when Sarah had felt differently about him. It could be how Sarah compensates for the loss of her siblings, but despite only being a few months older than JJ, she smothers him with the sisterly love Cleo gives you.
“Yeah,” Sarah chuckles, reading the disbelief on your features. “But then there was this day after my dad died…the first time,” Sarah cringes as she says it, and you try your best to keep your face neutral because what were your lives? Sarah’s voice changes, looking down at her hands as she continues. “His death had put JB and me in a weird place. I needed him to understand my grief, but to him, the man who’d taken his father from him was dead. At that point, I was sort of still just his girlfriend. Kie and I had just started talking about our history. JJ and Pope had no loyalty to me.
“But JJ snuck onto Tannyhill just to see if I was okay. Brought some flowers he’d picked from our yard and everything. He hated Ward almost as much as John B, but he still showed up for me. I remember Rafe almost caught him cause JJ had tripped the security alarm, and I had to convince him it must’ve been a fluke. That’s who he is. He makes mistakes, just like us, but he shows up. Sometimes more than the rest of us.”
You don’t know what to say in response. JJ supporting Sarah is sweet, but it isn’t unexpected. You know how fiercely he shows up for the Pogues, and you undoubtedly admire that about him. It doesn’t change the fact that he is impulsive, and it seems like his impulsivity is reaching a point of no return.
“Sarah, It’s not that I don’t know JJ’s a good guy. I do,” You sit down next to the blonde. “But that doesn’t change the fact that we’re still getting caught in the web.”
“People make mistakes, Y/N/N. The rest of us have, and you’ve always forgiven us. What’s so different about JJ’s mistakes?” You don’t need to think of your answer.
“This is all I have.”
“The shop?” Sarah asks.
You shake your head, the nape of your neck heating up as the cost of being vulnerable. “You. The Pogues.” You will yourself not to let your voice shake. To you, every wrong decision JJ makes threatens the Pogues’ chances of staying together. This family that has somehow fallen into your lap— a gift after years of misfortune— seems to be hanging by a thread recently.
Sarah’s expression softens, and you could laugh at the speed with which your friend’s eyes fill with tears. With all her cheek and confidence, Sarah is still the softest person you know.
“Then you and JJ are more alike than you think,” Sarah says simply. She quickly brushes the tears that have fallen and clears her throat. “Sorry. I didn’t come in here to berate you. I came to bring you this.” Sarah reaches back on the bed, where she’d dropped the black bag she’d walked in with. It’s a garment bag. Sarah stands from the bed and unzips the bag in her hands.
“I stole this one of the times I snuck into Tannyhill… is it called stealing if it’s literally yours?” Sarah’s usual cheer appears to have returned, and no trace of your earlier conversation is left. “Anyway, it’ll definitely do the trick.”
Sarah carefully pulls a mess of white fabric from her bag. The dress, in true Sarah Cameron fashion, is gorgeous. It has a drop-waist silhouette that will hug the body perfectly before flaring into a soft skirt. The skirt is covered by a delicate, thin layer of netting that compliments the suggestive top half with a whimsical touch. The outline of flowers are scattered across the skirt, only enhancing the graceful look. Instead of sleeves, the dress is held together by thin, dainty straps, and the dress will likely end a little above your ankles, making it the perfect blend of romantic and laid-back.
Simply put, the dress is beautiful.
“You stole this? When the hell were you going to need--” You stop speaking as you are hit with the obvious. Sarah's reason for initially buying this dress doesn’t matter, because it’s glaringly obvious why she deemed it necessary to take and bring back to your house. “No way. I’m not wearing this.”
“Why not? It’s the perfect elopement dress,” Sarah whines, holding it against your frame.
You push the dress away from your body. “Yeah, for you. It’s your elopement dress.”
“John B. and I are already married,” Sarah shrugs.
“Sarah.”
Sarah rolls her eyes. “Fine, yes, I stole this to wear when JB and I get legally married, but it’s fine! I’ll buy another dress when that time comes. This was originally gonna be my midsummer’s backup. It’s nothing fancy.”
“This is your backup?” You ask, only receiving a shrug from Sarah. “Sar, why would you give me this for a sham wedding? It’s such a waste.”
“I don’t feel like it would be,” Sarah responds. Cryptic…
“And why not?”
“Does it matter? Look, you have nothing else to wear, and we have to leave in an hour,” Sarah huffs. “Just think of me as your fairy godmother and accept the miracle.”
“Sar—” Just as you are going to protest another time, the door opens again. Cleo walks in, a bag of chips in one hand.
“You ready yet,” Cleo mumbles around the chips she is chewing. After taking in your appearance, she sighs and swallows before speaking again. “Why are you not ready yet?”
“Cause there’s still an hour.” Why are they all acting like this is a real wedding? It doesn’t matter how you look as long as you sign the damn papers. “I was about to change.” You look over at Sarah, who has a knowing smile on her face, and you groan. “Give me that.”
“Careful!” Sarah chastises as you grab the dress out of her hands. Walking towards the door, you open it with a tilt of your head to indicate the other two should get out.
“Since when do you care about privacy when you change?” Cleo asks, slumping against your bed.
“Just give me a minute.” When she realizes you are being serious, she makes eye contact with Sarah and finally gets up to leave. Once the other two girls have left, you sit on the bed, your bedding a bit crumpled from all the movement it has just endured. This is it. After you put on this dress, you will sign off the rights to your life. You know that logically, you have until you sign the dotted line, but putting on this dress is like putting up a white flag and admitting that you surrender to this convoluted plan and being tied to JJ indefinitely.
You let your shorts and crop top fall to the floor, replacing the clothing on your body with the dress. Looking in the mounted mirror on your wall, you can only see your reflection from the chest up. It gives you that familiar itch to curl into yourself. You look so much like your mother like this. In a fancy dress, your hair still pulled up from when you’d tied it back. It was so poised and elegant, a look you desperately wanted to pull off as a kid but wanted nothing to do with now. Yet, even with all the comparisons you can draw between yourself and your mother, you can’t deny it makes you feel pretty. Even just the top half of the dress fits you so well, and it makes you nostalgic for a time when pretty dresses were your only worry.
Taking just a minute longer before you let Cleo and Sarah back in, you pull your hair down. Your hair spills over your shoulders, softening your features and making you look younger. You aren’t ready to look that much like your mother.

Sarah had insisted on getting you fully ready for today’s events. You were no stranger to makeup but usually you stuck to mascara and concealer. Sarah had pulled out all the stops. While keeping your base relatively simple, she’d added blush, lipstick, and even eyeliner to “give the full effect.” She had even pulled your hair back up into a bun, and as much as you wanted to fight against it, you figured avoiding the mirror would be easier than arguing.
The Pogues had created a plan for the entire day to try to convince the residents of Kildare that the nuptials between you and JJ were as true as the sky was blue. John B and Sarah would accompany you and JJ to the courthouse to handle your ruse's legal and most crucial component, while the rest of the Pogues would set up a “surprise” reception in the Heywards’ backyard. The reception had been Pope’s idea because, according to him, his parents were too close to JJ and you to not need the extra convincing that this whole thing was real. You had doubts that Pope was just finding ways to make this more entertaining for himself.
Once Sarah and Cleo had finished helping you get ready, you’d decided to stop by the charter shack. JJ was, unsurprisingly, nowhere to be found, and you had some time to kill before heading to the courthouse. Initially, you’d wanted to find Kie. Whatever connection Kie and JJ had wasn’t lost on you, and you’d been overthinking your very much overdue conversation since last night. Even though you didn’t feel like you were wronging Kiara, since from what you’d gathered, JJ and Kie weren’t anything serious, it still felt like you owed her some form of acknowledgment. When you’d asked Cleo if she’d seen Kiara, she had let you know that Kiara had gone to her parent’s house a bit earlier, making it impossible for you to have that conversation.
Instead, you figure you’ll take the time to be alone. It’s what you always do when you can’t process your emotions. Is it the healthiest coping mechanism? No. But at least you know you do it. The shack is the closest you can get to quiet in a house with six other roommates, so you’re headed that way. As you climb the familiar footsteps, you think of the last time you’d been here. It had only been two days, but that night with JJ feels like a lifetime ago. You’d somehow compartmentalized discovering Ligthner’s body, becoming an accessory to a crime, and being questioned by the police in a way that anything before it all felt like a distant memory.
“That’ll be 3.99,” JJ’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts as you stand by the shack's open door. JJ stands behind the register in his usual uniform of cargo shorts and a graphic tee. He reaches out his hand to a middle-aged man, not noticing that you are standing there to witness his interaction.
JJ divies up the change before sticking out his hand to offer it to the patron, “Here you are, sir–” At that moment, JJ looks to his side, immediately doing a double take when he sees you. He falters, missing the customer’s hand entirely and spilling the change against the counter and the floor. The polite smile that JJ had worked to perfect slips off his face, his lips parting and his eyes clouding over. You can’t decipher the storm brewing in his eyes, but it sends a flutter through your belly as you meet his stare. The movement of the customer scramming to pick up the dropped change, which JJ had dealt in a comical amount of coins, catches your attention, but when you look back at JJ, he is still looking at you. With a heat that seems to burn right through you straight to your spine.
“JJ,” you whisper, drawing his eyes from where they had been trailing down your figure and back to your face. You shift your head towards the man crouched to gather the fallen change. JJ seems to finally return from wherever his mind had ended up and quickly rounds the corner.
“I-I’m sorry, sir,” JJ says, crouching to help. “That was an accident,” He apologizes again as he hands the last of the change back to its rightful owner.
“Don’t worry,” the man winks. “I’ll get out of your hair.” He gives you a knowing look that makes you flush as he passes and leaves the shack. If he only knew.
“Hey,” JJ mumbles, the heat in his eyes subdued. “You’re ready?
“We’re supposed to leave in twenty minutes,” you reply. “Sarah was getting restless. I think she just sees this as an opportunity to play dress-up.”
JJ chuckles, moving closer to you. “Yeah, I think John B’s choosing which one of his button-ups I’m gonna wear right now.” JJ’s eyes begin to trail back down your body, his tracking slow and that cloudy look returning to his eyes.“You look…”
You try your best to ignore how his throat bobs when he swallows, unable to fill the gap in his words. The pooling nerves in your stomach spread, moving dangerously low. That feeling isn’t good– not now, not with him.
“Like a bride?” You try to joke, but it comes out breathy and wrong.
JJ attempts to laugh, but it is more like a sharp exhale. Suddenly, his hand reaches behind your head, gripping the elastic band holding your hair in place. In a swift movement, he pulls your hair free of its constraints, and it falls in waves over your shoulders.
“Better,” He whispers, and you feel an unfamiliar ache in your chest. Whatever peculiar reaction JJ is having to seeing you in a white dress needs to be stopped.
Clearing your throat, you speak up. “You think this’ll fool everyone?”
That does the trick because JJ chuckles before pulling his arm back. “Between this and the three-act play Sarah’s putting on for the Island, we should be in the clear.” You laugh, agreeing with him.
“What are you doing out here anyway? I figured we’d keep the shop closed today,” You ask, grabbing a Snickers bar from a shelf.
JJ snatches the Snickers bar from your hands, ignoring your protests. “I figured I’d keep the shop open for a bit. You were right before about us needing the business.” You don’t say anything; you watch as JJ tears into the chocolate bar. Eventually, he passes the bar back to you with a shit-eating grin.
Narrowing your eyes, you take the bar back. Then, you tore a piece of Snickers off and plop it in your mouth. After a few minutes, neither you nor JJ move to leave, and you speak up again. “Are you ready for this?”
JJ laughs humorlessly, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
You rub your lips together, unsure how much you want to give away what is running through your head. JJ is the only other person who can relate to you, but being vulnerable is never easy. JJ’s expression changes, his eyes softening.
“I’m scared, too,” JJ says. You want to argue, convince him that you aren’t scared. You want to make him think that you are angry and annoyed and displeased beyond belief because admitting you are scared means admitting there is something with enough power to take you down. You stay silent. You can’t bring yourself to lie to him, but instead, you feel yourself move closer to him. You don’t say anything, just let your invasion of his space speak for itself. JJ continues for you.
“I’m worried that all of this’ll be for nothing. We’ll get caught, and it’ll just make the inevitable worse.” Too lost in understanding the look in his eyes, you don’t notice JJ reaching out until his hand catches ahold of yours. For the fiftieth time in three days, JJ touches you like you’re his, his thumb stroking your fingers, and it’s getting harder not to let it make you dizzy. The whole marriage thing must really be going to your head because you can’t help but feel like the weight of his thumb keeps returning to your ring finger. “But I promise you, I’m going to make sure I don’t let it touch you. Any of this.”
“I don’t want it to touch you either.”
You aren’t sure if you meant it, and you are even less sure what compels you to say it. JJ gives you a slight smile that does nothing to ease your newfound worries, “You don’t worry about me, okay? I’m gonna get you out of this safe.”
You want to argue with him and tell him that he needs to make it out safely, too, but a distant yell interrupts your train of thought before you can reply.
“JJ, COME DOWN! I GOT YOUR CLOTHES!”
JJ pulls back, his sad, self-deprecating smile disappearing. “I’ll see you at the finish line, I guess.” He sticks out his hand, his smile changing to the mischievous one that always looks best on him. “Let’s do this.”
“Let’s do this,” You smile, reaching out to shake his hand. “But after you take a shower.”

You aren’t very superstitious, but today you want to be. Your dad had been extremely superstitious, always telling you to beware of black cats and search extra hard for four-leaf clovers. Today, you want to believe that things like a lucky number or knocking on wood can fix up a promising future for you. The weather is pristine – the sun bright and pleasant in the company of a light breeze. The weather is the textbook definition of a perfect day. If it had been your actual wedding day, you would probably have considered yourself unbelievably lucky.
You want to cling to that belief as John B, Sarah, and JJ walk to the courthouse doors. This is it, the metaphorical calm before the storm. Sarah squeezes your hand tight as you reach the courthouse. You had taken hold of her hand in the Twinkie and hadn’t let go since.
“This is it,” John B says, wiping his hands against his pants.
JJ tilts his head, offering a brief nod, “Yup.”
“Do you guys have rings?” Sarah asks, and you want to groan. She is taking this entirely too seriously, and it does nothing to calm your nerves.
“Sarah, we’re nineteen-year-old Pogues. I highly doubt anyone expects us to have rings,” JJ said, and you hadn’t ever been this thankful for him… ever.
Sarah rolls her eyes, offering you one more squeeze of her hand before letting go. She walks up the five steps of the courthouse building and opens the door for the rest of the group. You and JJ follow John B. and Sarah’s lead as they talk to a few people to see where they should go. John B had called as soon as the courthouse’s office had opened in the morning, but it seems a bit pointless since there aren’t many people around. That helps with your nerves a little. Not having an audience will make some of this easier.
JJ, unlike earlier, is the picture of ease. He had put on a pair of John B’s khakis and a pale blue button-down, looking so unlike himself. His messy blond hair, not a trace of gel visible, is the only thing that reminds you that you are about to marry JJ Maybank. He leans against the counter in front of the plexiglass like it’s the counter back at the shop and speaks to the clerk as if he is an old family friend. He handles giving the clerk all the information required, only turning to you for your license – which you’d thankfully gotten a couple of years ago. He is so… JJ about the whole thing. Playing the part so well, as if it’s just another one of your schemes. Eventually, the clerk passes a stack of papers through the opening at the bottom of the glass and speaks into his mic.
“Once you’re ready, we’ll need your signatures on each page, and then you’ll sign this.” He passes a yellow file folder with a paper sticking through the gap. “And that’s it. You’ll be officially married.”
Your fingers shake as you reached forward to pick up the yellow folder. The portion of the paper sticking out says ‘marriage license’ in beautiful, cursive font. You are surprised you aren’t numb to the nerves twisting around your stomach by this point.
“Whenever you’re ready,” the clerk says, turning away to his computer. You look up at JJ and then behind him at Sarah.
“It’s going to be okay, Y/N,” Sarah assures you, but it doesn’t help. Her words can’t dissuade the nagging voice in your head saying that you are signing up for your life to become a game.
“Hey,” JJ turns to look at Sarah and John B before grabbing the papers from the counter and your hand. He leads you both to a brown bench at the edge of the room, sitting you down. He takes a moment to look around him before crouching in front of you. “I know this is hard, but…”
“We have to.” You fill in. JJ shakes his head immediately.
“No, we don’t. Somehow, this crazy idea makes sense, but that doesn’t mean we have to. If you say no, then we’ll figure out another way. No one will be mad, and none of this will be your fault.”
“You wouldn’t be mad?”
“Of course, I wouldn’t. You’re doing me a favor.” You look at JJ, knelt before you, a hand placed next to your thigh. He is utterly at your mercy and still giving you an out. No pressure, no fallout. Looking at him, you know what you have to do.
“No, I’ll do it.” JJ looks at you as if to ask, “Are you sure?” You nod in reply. “Give me a pen.”
JJ stands up, sitting down next to you. He pulls out a pen from his pocket, and you want to joke about how domesticated the fact that he’s switched out his lighter for a pen is, but all you can bring yourself to do is swallow down the deep breaths of air you are taking in. JJ flipped through each sheet in the stapled stack of papers, signing one line before passing the pen to you and repeating. He signs, then you sign. He signs, then you sign. You focus on that pattern through all six sheets, and the flow was only disrupted when JJ waves John B and Sarah over to sign on the witness sections. When JJ finally pulls out the marriage license from its folder, you though you would have reacted less to it. It was just another four lines, but you still feel its weight as JJ prepares to sign it. You don’t move your eyes from JJ’s calloused hand– focusing on how his hand moves as he glides the pen over the paper, the sound of the pen clicking when he is done, the sharp crinkle of the paper as he holds it out for you. You try to focus on anything that would distract you from the actual act of signing the papers.
“Wow,” John B whistles. “You guys are married.”
You look up at him, JJ, and the signed papers in front of you. JJ’s face is paler than usual, but there is no indication of what he is thinking. You try to smile at Sarah, but you can feel it comes out more like a grimace.

“Alright, you two,” John B says, as the Twinkie near Pope’s parent’s place. “This is when it all matters.”
You want to laugh. It didn’t matter when you were manipulating the government?
“Everyone here needs to believe that you two are surprised by this party, but more than that, they need to believe that you’re in love,” You roll your eyes. He doesn’t have to spell it out so much. “That means you need to go full Jarah.”
“Excuse me?” You ask. “What’s a Jarah?”
“Oh God, JB,” JJ groans, his head falling back against the seat cushion. “That’s cringe even for you.” You glance at John B’s smug grin and Sarah’s love-struck gaze, and you groan.
“Is that y’alls couple's name?” You ask.
“The kids call it a ship name,” John B shrugs.
“You’re so unbelievably lame,” You nod at JJ’s words, your posture mirroring his as you rest your head against the seat.
“Maybe, but I’m also serious. You need to look like a newly wedded couple, which means lots of PDA.”
You look at JJ, who seems just as displeased as you feel. JJ has been quiet since you got in the car, and there is no sign of the boy who’d talked you through the hardest decision of your life.
“So when we get to the backyard, be holding hands and biggggg smiles. Got it?” You regret any time you’d privately praised John B’s leadership skills. JJ is the first to exit the car, closing the door once all of you have gotten out and following behind the group. When you reached the fence of Pope’s childhood home, JJ’s entire demeanor shifts. His shoulder raise, a small smile paints his lips, and you swear his cheeks somehow turned redder. He places his hand out for you, waiting for you to take it.
You walk hand in hand through the makeshift fence Heyward must’ve built years ago, the sound of music and the smell of barbecue filling your senses. As people begin to come into view, your jaw drops. Except it isn’t an act because you are in genuine shock. You’d assumed the party would consist of Pope’s parents, maybe Kie’s, and a couple of JJ’s acquaintances from high school. What you hadn’t expected was for what seemed like the entirety of The Cut to be populating Heyward’s backyard. From JJ’s expression, he also didn’t expect to see this many people.
The crowd erupts in cheers, chants of the couple’s names being heard from various corners. You feel JJ’s hand tighten around yours, but when you look at him, he seems to melt into the noise. His lips round into a cheer and settle into a wide grin as he takes in the crowd. In this crowd, JJ is in his element. With the attention, noise, and chaos, he can guide you through the rest of the evening and you can have the chance of getting out of this without being caught. You follow JJ’s lead, smiling brightly, and feel relieved when Cleo came to give you a big hug.
“Who knew you were such a great actress,” You mumblw to Cleo, who is holding onto you with a death grip.
“The hug’s not because I’m happy for you,” Cleo whispers back. “I’m sorry, Y/N/N. But it’s all going to be okay.” When she pulls back, you don’t have the time to sit in that moment with Cleo because all your friends follow her lead.
“JJ,” You and JJ look up to see all six feet something of Mr. Heyward standing in front of you and you immediately feel your palms dampen. This interaction will possibly be the hardest one to sell.
“Heyward,” JJ lets go of your hand and throws his palm out to shake the hand of someone you know has played the part of a father to him. You wonder if lying to Heyward might be one of the more challenging parts for JJ, but if it is, he doesn’t let it show and instead plays the part he has to effortlessly. “Thanks for all of this,” He makes a show of taking in his surroundings and letting out a low whistle. “It means a lot.”
Heyward’s expression is painfully untrusting, and you wish you could wither away when he turns to look at you. Over the past two years, as Pope and Cleo’s relationship transitioned from platonic to damn near a married couple, you had frequented the Heywards’ house almost as much as Cleo. When you’d returned from Poguelandia, Heyward had housed you without a second thought, and ever since then, he’d treated you like his own. Lying to him feels worse than a betrayal, even if you’re sure he would understand the situation. Well, maybe not the entire situation.
“Sure was surprised when I heard Pope tell me this was happening,” Heyward says. The glare he would give you kids whenever he knew something was amiss, boring into you.
You must look like a fish out of water with your mouth opening and closing, searching for an adequate response. Luckily, JJ speaks up for both of you. His arm rounds across your shoulders as he draws you closer to him.
“I know it’s hard to believe., but when you know, you know, right?”
Heyward hums, his arms crossing across his chest and then uncrossing again. Pointing his finger, he says, “You know, I’m just not sure how I didn’t see this happening, is all.”
JJ leans in towards you, making a show of failing to whisper, “I’m sure he doesn’t see a lot of things nowadays–”
“Oh, you think you’re funny, huh, lil shit,” With that, Heyward is back to his usual level of annoyance with JJ, and you can breathe a little easier. “Y/N, you got anything to say?”
You clear your throat, “It’s been a whirlwind, but I’m really happy.”
You don’t look at JJ as you say it and know you needed to, but lying has never been your strong suit. When you and Cleo were still with Terrance, you usually worked in the shadows while Cleo set up the distractions in the spotlight. It was easier for you that way. This whole wedding sham had made the two of you switch roles, and you didn’t have enough time to prepare.
“I don’t know what whirlwind you’ve found yourself in now, but I’m sure I don’t need to teach you that marriage is no joke.” If only Heyward knew how deeply familiar you were with the fact that marriage was anything but humorous. “Be smart. And you,” Heyward looks back at JJ, his features stern. “Be good to her. Or Cleo and I won’t leave a body to be found.”
You finally laugh at that, and in a moment of feeling genuinely carefree, you wrap your arm around JJ’s torso. You wouldn’t have even noticed you did it if JJ hadn’t brushed the bare skin of your shoulder and drawn your attention to just how close you are. Despite your unusual affection, neither of you moves from your entanglement. As you move around the party, meeting acquaintances and a couple of JJ’s cousins, you think you could’ve sold the whole thing with how close you two are. You doubt you were Sarah and John B’s level of affectionate, but even if JJ had been the love of your life, you don’t think you’d be the kind of person to have that much of a public display anyway.
The sun will begin setting soon, and as you look around the backyard, you feel nostalgia for something you have never had. Weddings were one of those things so many girls grew up dreaming about, spending hours thinking up the dress of their dreams and how they’d decorate their venue. You never had the chance to think of those things, but looking around you, you think maybe this is precisely what you would’ve asked for. The decorations are as simple as they could be. Cleo and Pope have strung some fairy lights– probably Kie’s– through a few trees and from the roof's ledge. It’s cook-out style for food– grills being manned by dads and barbecue being served fresh to each person. Music is playing in the background, but it wasn’t a perfectly curated playlist of love songs. From what you’ve heard since you walked in, it was probably just the playlist Pope usually put on when he got speaker control during hangouts. It is the most Pogue, life on The Cut-esque wedding, but it is more than enough for you. For a minute, you close your eyes and pretend this is a party being hosted for any other reason, sending a fuzzy feeling from your heart throughout your body. It is all you’ve ever wanted. To be loved, to belong. It doesn’t matter how you got here, but you had.
The upbeat tempo of a Kendrick song is replaced by the much slower tempo of an unsettlingly familiar song. The opening notes of Can’t Help Falling In Love ring through the settling crowd, the blend of the piano and electric guitar muffling Heyward’s voice as he calls you and JJ to the center of the yard. You barely process the awkward look JJ shoots you, too distracted by the churning feeling in your stomach, returning more vigorous than it had all day. You hate this song. There are too many memories of watching your parents dance around the kitchen while Elvis played in the background. You used to watch them in awe of the love they shared, the way your father would melt into your mother’s arms. It was almost like the song had created a self-fulfilling prophecy about how your parents' relationship would play out. A love that had felt as sure as the flow of the river to the sea had taken your father’s life. It had taken your life.
JJ’s hand leads you to the clearing all the onlookers have created as he mumbles about having no choice. You look around, all these people who would never know what you are thinking. You are thinking about this life that you dreamed of a couple of years ago and many years before, you wouldn’t have understood. That girl watching her parents in the kitchen wouldn’t have understood any of this, and your heart breaks for her in a way that it never has before. It is making it difficult to push past the pounding in your ears and the bile rising in your throat. JJ’s free hand comes to rest on your waist, and when your eyes met, he gives you a tense smile.
Your right hand rests on his shoulder, mindlessly mirroring how you’ve seen your parents do this a hundred times. JJ, you soon find out, isn’t much of a dancer. His steps are clumsy, either too wide or too short. He tries to lead your movements, picking up on how you’ve gone rigid, but he lacks just as much fluidity. You know what the crowd is expecting. They want to see magic, the tender moments between two young people looking forward to every joyful second of their intertwined lives. The way you and JJ are moving is the polar opposite– the stiff movement highlighting how out of sync you two truly are. JJ’s movements are harsh and rushed, and you are grateful that he has switched out his workboots for a pair of John B’s Converse because, in a span of two minutes, he’s stepped on your toes three times.
“Shit– sorry,” JJ mumbles, his covered foot landing on your toes a fourth time, effectively making you wince. He is so focused on his missteps that he likely isn’t noticing the judgemental side glances you are receiving from the crowd, but you do. Something about the combination of your embarrassment and the painful memories of your youth has your eyes welling with tears. You don’t cry. Not just in front of others, but never. It’s like your tears had dried up all those years ago, but now, with this stupid, stupid song playing, you can’t stop them.
“Swear I’m not usually–” JJ stops his defense when he looks at you, his eyes widening. The tears haven’t fallen, but it is probably evident with how close JJ is to you. JJ looks around, snapping his head in various directions until he finally finds whatever or whoever he is looking for. He twists his pointer finger in a circular motion twice, and you notice Pope quickly shuffling with his phone. The music doesn’t change immediately, and JJ keeps his hands firmly against you, but he slows his swaying. Instead, he holds you still and pulls you into his body. It’s like he is trying to shield you from everything outside the two of you, and you take refuge in his arms without a second thought. He whispers against your temple, “I got you.”
The haunting melody of Can’t Help Falling In Love is finally replaced with the rhythmic, upbeat tune of My Girl by The Temptations. JJ, firmly pressed against you, pulls back quickly and lets out an unrestrained “WOO!” He snaps in tune with the music, his movements much more liquid than earlier. The weight of the earlier song still feels like it is being pressed against you, but the energy of this song is entirely different, and it seems to infect JJ. He has a cheeky grin and looks just like the charming-to-a-fault boy you know despite the clothes that don’t belong to him and the rare bursts of softness you’ve witnessed today.
“I’ve got sunshine,” He sins along with Ron Tyson, and if it had been any other artist, you might have thought he was giving them a run for their money. His voice is smoother than you would’ve expected. He doesn’t have the voice of a trained vocalist, but his North Carolina accent mixed with the natural timbre of his voice makes for something captivating. The smile he’d brought to your face grows as he steps towards you, his shoulder moving in time with the song.
“I guess you say,” He continues, his eyebrows raised with intention as he looks at you. Your laughter bubbles over, already knowing where he is headed with this. “What can make me feel this way?”
You make a show of annoyance with his antics, but as he takes your hand and spins you around three times– once for each time Tyson sings ‘my girl’-- your delight is unfeigned. After the third spin, JJ crosses your arms in front of you, hauling your back against his chest. You peer up at him over your shoulder, your noses brushing, and his grin is like the sun peeking through on a cloudy day.
The crowd has begun to join you on the makeshift stage, but you are too caught up in the song and how much fun you are having with JJ to care. These are the moments you remember from Poguelandia, which feel like a lifetime ago now— the carefree feeling JJ brought to your life that you had desperately needed then.
JJ’s antics only get more humorous when the song's instrumental part begins to play. He uses the opportunity to do his infamous two-step, shooting you a cocky smirk and throwing his arms out at either side of him, inviting competition.
“That all you got?” You ask, and JJ made a show of stepping back and offering you the floor. You aren’t sure what you are doing, but you take the space and let your hips move in tune with the music. The song isn’t seductive by any means, but it is groovy, and you felt confident in how your body moves with it. From the impressed look on JJ’s face, he seems to agree, and you giggle as he inces closer slowly, wrapping a loose arm around your waist.
As the song reaches its final verse, John B and Sarah have made their way over to you. JJ and John B look at each other, tilting their heads in unison and pointing at each other. Suddenly, JJ is spinning you over, and John B takes ahold of your hand. John B is a much worse singer than JJ, but your laughter isn’t deterred for even a moment as he leads you through the rest of the dance. You make eye contact with Sarah, who shoots you a wink and lovingly rolls her eyes when JJ spins her. John B follows suit by turning you in towards him, whispering in your ear.
“That had to sell it.”

taglist: @theater-bitch @ayy1234567 @tpwkyarely @loves animals0000 @B3rryb3t @mvaldez7821 @ummmmokaynotme @velyssaraptor @chloemaybank @sandaltoesocks @thexplosivegirl @rudypankowisbae @marleymarleymarleymarley @snowtargaryen @awurtzx06 @yumwhy @rudypankowisbae @kanpaeki
#jj maybank x reader#jj mayback imagine#jj maybank#jj maybank angst#outer banks x reader#obx x reader#sealed 𓂁 ☼♒︎
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Good job getting ADHD medication! I’m so proud of you :D
thanks so so much im very happy and so hopeful for the first time maybe ever but also it TOOK ME LIKE. A YEAR. A YEAR.
like yall for real?? for real. for real i have been diagnosed since i was like six. (funny story my teacher thought i was on the spectrum so my parents get me tested with the nodes and shit and according to mom, who loves this story, my neurologist did all that and talked to me and then just turned to my mom and went "she's not autistic. she just hates the other kids" but they DID find an adhd diagnosis in there so net win for all of us)
diagnosed since i was SIX. on stimulants until i turned 8, and you know why i got off em? my pediatrician retired. we could not find another who would take our low-income insurance. so i just had to rawdog The Rest Of My Fucking Life. diagnosed when i was six. legally neurodivergent for 20 slutty slutty angry years.
and it still took me like. a few months to get a psych appointment. a few weeks to reaffirm my diagnosis as an adult. a few more weeks for another appointment for meds. he doesnt Want to do meds first, because i must have been doing fine without them if its been two decades, right? i got a job and a car and everything. well gee fuckin shittickers Dr. Brain Guy, just WHAT was my alternative? would you prefer i be maladapted to the point of incapacitation; is that what it takes for someone to be considered? i cheated my way through school. every day after work i sit for an hour in my car because i dont have the executive function to stand up and walk the ten steps to my house. garbage just appears around me. i have three empty bags of hot chip and two cans of sprite on my desk as we speak, neither from today. at that point i hadnt had a debit card for six months because that would have required me to Drive To The Bank, a location that was new to me in this area, so i just did everything on credit. is this all normal? is this fine? am i GOOD, actually, Dr. WeirdBrain?
so we cordially agree that yes i should probably be medicated. i want to do a stimulant. he does not want to put me on a stimulant. "stimulants can mess with your heart," he says, "and you're young, you don't want heart problems." i say ok because i dont want to make him think im just looking for narcotics. even though i am. because they WORK. i agree to try some kind of antidepressant.
the antidepressant gives me tachycardia. i go to the emergency room after reading a heartbeat of, oh, 140 bpm, which is about like double what it normally is and juuuust below the You Are Having A Heart Attack threshold. i get to the ER and the doctor there is very obviously convinced i'm a local addict having some sort of episode. it is the most ironic experience i've had all year and i feel an abrupt and all consuming kinship with those birds in australia that will swoop you and peck at your face for seemingly no good reason.
so yeah, we narrow it down to the antidepressant. as it turns out, these particular meds are known to, semi-commonly, Mess With Your Heart. i have my next appointment with my psych and somehow refrain from pecking his eyes out. he puts me on a noreprinephrine inhibitor(iirc) that isnt actually FDA approved to treat ADHD specifically(i DEFINITELY rc) but it IS given to smokers to help them quit. i dont smoke. i may very well fucking start before this whole ordeal is at the point where someone listens to me
it obviously does a combined total of jack and shit, and the man waffles with this one because he has "had success" using it as treatment for other ADHD patients. he ups the dose. twice. three months on the smoker meds, which are also apparently notorious for destroying your appetite, but they didnt even do THAT. no change to the average amount of hot chip on my desk.
he wants to try quelbree after that. i finally tell him i'm tired of this shit and would like to have more than two hours of usable daylight to function before it all falls to uncontrollable youtube shorts binges and a daily experience i like to call The Weighted Nothings and i would very much like to PLEASE. TRY A STIMULANT.
he's been friendly enough with me over these past four or five or whatever months but at this he gets suddenly very very business-baseline. gives me the whole spiel about the north american shortage. gives me a spiel about how i absolutely cannot, under any circumstances, lose or sell this medication, because they will not refill it if i do. i am sitting here wondering if he he's telling the truth about having other ADHD patients at all like ever in his career, and also, am i nuts or should the "don't sell your prescription drugs" bit apply to EVERYTHING? i dont fuckin know man i just live here
he says he wants a urine test first. its scheduled for two weeks out. i take it.
"hey uh, your piss came back with cannabis in it" "well it'd be weirder if it didn't, we are in california and i am a kitchen manager" "you can't have weed if you want adderall" "fine i'll stop" "we'll schedule you another test in a month" "aight bet" it didnt go exactly like that but this is kind of what the vibe between us has devolved into by this point.
anyway i wait a month and get a good grade in piss. i get the meds prescribed. i go to fill out the prescription
all i really need to say to you are the words "prior authorization error" for most of you to get what happened next.
the psych isnt even aware. i wait another month for our next meeting, which was yesterday. i do not yell at him. he tells me to take it up with the pharmacy, and yell at them. i am going to yell at them.
so i go, and guess what, it actually went through a while ago! NO ONE TOLD ME OR DR. FEEL-BAD OVER HERE. but we can't fill it right now because its a controlled substance so come back in a few hours. hey it's ready where the hell are you? TAKE YOUR METH AND GET OUT
anyway i started it today, reorganized my pantry, and fixed the fire alarm in my hallway that's been chirping at me for a week. i no longer have to wear earplugs to bed.
and with my newfound executive function superpowers, i will be spraying my weed-free piss all over Reagan's grave.
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I'm so thankful for you sharing the importance of protecting minors from sexual content. My parents and I didn't have much knowledge back then and I was exposed to this kind of stuff too early. I developed bad habits. I somehow deceived my family into trusting me way too much and, when I saw I had lost control and I asked for help, I saw my family was also hurt and they spent a lot on therapy and my anxiety medication. I have forgiven them for not knowing back them. But I still haven't forgiven myself for getting them through all that stuff. It's important to understand how much we need to protect minors from sexual content. Family members and artists, please pay attention to the content young audience is exposed to.
Of course! I can relate a lot to this. My parents were really good at monitoring what I was doing online for a while but they started trusting me more and I unfortunately started seeing a lot of stuff I shouldn't have but would keep it secret. Gonna talk about my experience a lil bit under the cut just bc I've been reflecting on it a lot recently (tw for grooming)
I gained a following of around 25K on deviantart by the time I was around 15/16. It was in the worst fandom too (mlp). I'd have a lot of much older men talking to me, drawing/writing nsfw of my characters who were underaged (they'd draw nsfw of myself and my sonas as well). It was so normalized for me and I didn't see anything wrong with it at the time.
I'd shipped Spike and Rarity at the time (very much do not anymore) and adult men would use that ship as a basis for trying to talk to me or get in a relationship. "We're just like Sparity! You're young but you're very mature for your age, so it's fine." I remember one guy trying REALLY hard to try and get me to move in with him. I was pretty creeped out then, but like holy shit that's SUPER creepy and I'm fortunate that he didn't keep trying after I gave him a hard "no".
It bled into my real life a bit when I met a 22 y/o man who asked me out when I was just 16 just turning 17. Luckily the relationship was NOT long lasting (I think he realized that I'm a very boring person LMAO) but I think about how I thought that that was a perfectly normal. I'd date go on to date people who were probably too old for me.
Also around when I was 16/17, people started shipping me with another artist in the fandom who was several years older than I was (side note: nothing wrong with an age gap! but it's very not okay when there's "waiting" for someone to be of legal age involved). I did end up dating said artist after I turned 18 and it was fine, I wasn't hurt or anything but I did find weird that we were shipped when I was still a teenager looking back (there was also nsfw drawn of us together before/when we were dating)
I just had such a warped sense of reality for a long because of this shit. I'm glad there's more conversations about this stuff and it's more known that adults should have little to no personal interaction with kids on the internet and vice versa. There's way too many stories of kids getting taken advantage of in fandom spaces. I think I got off fairly lucky all things considered. But bottom line YES kids need to be protected online and their exposure to sexual content/adult spaces should be limited or monitored. It's also really tough though because not all kids have adults in their real life that they can trust or go to to ask questions about sex so they seek solace in adults online and it's just a constant cycle.
I'm honestly unsure of what to do about that and I don't have all the answers but I ultimately just don't want kids online to end up in similar positions I was in when I was younger. I just do my best
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Link would never sleep around with all these different women. It needs to be said that Link (all versions) is a young hero with a big heart, not some uberChad his fans wish he was.
THANK YOU FOR SAYING IT ANON. Omg. Even my partner hates this and it has actually lowkey ruined Link for him. He doesn't even want to cosplay as him anymore with me because of how Link's fans are and how they see him this way.
It's just such an out of character, disgusting and misogynistic way to characterize Link. Especially when they ship him with someone like Riju. Like what? Link first formed a relationship with Riju when she was 12 years old, and according to the code of the game she is still a teenager while Link and Zelda are adults:

According to the code of the game, Riju is closer in age to Tulin. She has nothing in her diary that even remotely suggests she herself even sees Link that way

I'm sorry but what part of this is "oh she must be in love with Link!" ???
it explicitly says Link is just her friend
and if you are naked during the gibdo fight, not only does she not react to it in a shippy way whatsoever, she tells you it's a bad idea to go into battle like that.
She is, also, canonically uninterested in romance.
"Unlike the other gerudo who love love talk and fashion"
It is insane to me that people are actually arguing someone like me "doesn't see Zelda beyond Link", weaponizing the idea that Zelda being in love with/in a relationship with Link is sexist in some form, meanwhile at the very same time the exact same people want to act like Link can't ever have a single platonic female friend and Purah and Riju, who have never once been interested in Link that way, simply must want to ride his master sword, just because they, as a player, got horny off the character designs. People love to slander zelink as "heteronormative", but they're oddly quiet about the heteronormativity in crap like this. It serves no purpose but for insecure men to feel validation from the thought of having multiple women on their arm at once.
It grinds my gears like nothing else, especially when comes people who say they like zelink. So like ok what, in their headcanon universe Zelda is supposed to just be the "cool reddit wife" who happily accepts being cheated on and betrayed by Link and her friends with a smile? And with a minor no less? Yeah nah, sorry but Zelda deserves way better than that. I would rather she not end up with Link at all in that scenario.
It's just so dreadful on so many levels. Two adults the same age is "heteronormative" and "toxic" somehow, something something therapy speak, but Link coming onto a child or waiting for a child to be legal is fine? Calling it "cute", "wholesome" even? Why did you all hate those two creepy male botw npcs, again? Because it seems you want Link to be just like them...
It is genuinely so trashy and like a scenario you would read an incel cook up on 4chan that I can't believe this is some people's take away from the story of totk. That it should be like a garbage harem anime or something and not a story about community, True Love and friendship saving the day. Nothing has disappointed me and my partner more about this fandom than realizing that people not only don't appreciate this game and it's story or touching moments at all, they are only able to see it as porn with their self insert gigachad pedophile Link who runs across hyrule sleeping with every man, woman and child with a pulse.
Oh but remember, women aren't allowed to be with another man though, that's an ego threat *cough* Tauro *cough*
Remember kids, women must be pure and loyal, but a man can do whatever he wants!
This is also unironically why some people are mad about Zelda being the protagonist of Age of Imprisonment and arguing for it to not actually be the canon story of totk, despite all of the marketing so far and despite complaints Age of Calamity faced for changing the story of botw. They're pretty much just mad about the prospect that their uberchad insert, and (what they see as) their harem avengers won't be in it if it's the canon pov of Zelda during TotK.
And all of that is why my Link actually has a heart that is good and true, actually devoted and loyal to Zelda, only has eyes for her and missed her desperately all throughout totk from the moment he missed her hand, was crushed by the revelation but refused to give up. Because clearly, this fandom hates that idea more than anything else.
#zelink#totk zelink#tears of the kingdom#link#zelda#princess zelda#legend of zelda#tloz#loz#totk#anon ask#thank you for the ask anon!#I'm sorry that I laid this all on you lol but I could actually rant about this for days#this is the headcanon out of all of them that makes me the angriest#is is just horrid on so many levels#It's not even just unfair to zelda either like it's terrible for everyone???#it makes Link into the last man I would want to be anywhere near at any given moment
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Hi,
So, I have written expression disorder and dysgraphia, which means this might be a bit rambly or unclear but I’ll try my best to stay on as clear and as brief as I can.
I’m currently writing a fanfiction for Wynonna Earp as a way to improve my writing skills without needing to stress about it. Background on the show: It’s a supernatural show based around a descendant of Wyatt Earp who was a legal officer in the wild west and got involved in a massive feud. It also has his friend Doc Holliday becoming immortal and being a love interest for the main character. The primary reason I’m doing this is because I dislike how they portrayed Doc Holliday in the series (often outright the opposite of the reality) and also because they just left out the fact he was disabled completely. Due to a gunshot wound when he was fairly young, probably along with weakness due to having tuberculosis for most of his adult life, which did eventually kill him, he used a cane part time. He also had a cleft lip and palate that was surgically corrected and he got surgery for it as an infant and had speech therapy, which doesn’t really seem to have impacted his adult life much in what I’m writing.
I do have chronic pain due to an injury which was pretty bad when I was younger, so having a character who’s portrayed as dealing with that and continuing to be brave and selfless would have meant the whole world to me at that point in my life and still will. But as I was doing research I ran into a few things I knew very little about.
My own disabilities are invisible, which means that I don’t have much experience with how people respond to seeing mobility aids. It would be interesting to show people’s responses, especially since he pretty famously took offense easily and didn’t leave things alone. There’s a fun scene there but I’m not sure what a common response to set it off would be. The biggest problem I have, that I haven’t been able to find a lot about: according to a medical article I read even when it’s cured people who had tuberculosis typically have some lung damage. I haven’t been able to find a lot on how that would impact someone day to day. He was cured of it magically but the idea of there still being damage makes sense based on the in universe rules and also someone being magically cured is generally considered not good. So how would it impact someone on a daily basis?
There’s some things in the research I did that make me think he was autistic (namely literal thinking to the point where he almost killed someone due to not understanding that a duel was meant to be a joke as a teen). Or maybe I’m just projecting because I am. Any ideas for how somebody who grew up in a time where nuerodivergence just wasn’t known would accommodate himself and be helped by friends? How would they understand it at that time?
How in general do friends respond to disabilities and try to help now?
There’s a few other things but they’re mainly just me being a beginner writer who doesn’t honestly. Thank you so much for reading through this even if you don’t end up responding!
[part 2] clarification: I meant the cleft palate wouldn't come up in what I'm writing because he's an adult and it didn't seem to have huge bearing on his adult life. I'm so sorry I left out part of that sentence in my ask bc I have a learning disability! didn't mean to! I'm so sorry and thank you again!
Hello!
People respond in many ways. In the modern west a lot of it involves random strangers being intrusive as shit ("what happened to you??") but in historical times I think it would be more of avoidance, especially if he has visible symptoms of tuberculosis. People still think that "visibly disabled person coughing = plague". If you're going for historical accuracy, it wouldn't really surprise me if strangers didn't want to sit next to him.
Long tuberculosis (affecting 25% of those who had TB) seems to be very similar to COPD, so the main day-to-day effect would probably be fatigue, being out of breath after physical exertion, etc. COPD is an incredibly common disability so you should be able to find a lot of info about it and how it can be managed.
Friends will also respond in many ways, and it also depends a lot on the disabled person. This guy sounds like the "hyper-independent physically disabled man" type and in my experience most of them don't talk about their needs much, especially not with the boys. In this case the accommodation is often just silently agreed on after spending some time together (e.g., after a few times going out they can see how annoyed he gets when they suddenly change plans so they learn to tell him as soon as they know, if he drops something they pick it up for him without saying anything since they know it's tiring for him to get up, etc.). If they know him well enough to know he takes offense easily they probably wouldn't bring up his inability to do something to not upset him and try to work around it instead.
I don't have enough historical knowledge to answer the second question, so I'll leave it to other mods. But I think it'd make sense if they just thought he was eccentric or weird rather than having a medical condition.
Hope this helps,
mod Sasza
Hello, thank you for your ask! In regards to the second question, it would depend on his symptoms, how well/if he could mask, and how other people view(ed) him.
I'm assuming he's level 1 / low support needs, as you don't mention him having a caretaker or difficulty doing tasks. Some of the examples include specific autistic traits that he may or may not have/used to have, they're mostly there to be examples. These are also assuming you're writing him as an adult only, if you want some info on how it would be like growing up during this time let us know!
Without good knowledge of autism, most people would think he's very strange if he cannot [fully] mask. Flat affect, lack of social understanding and other symptoms would make most allistic people uncomfortable, with responses ranging from thinking he's just weird [and would want to avoid him] to believing he's angry at them specifically [and would either want to avoid him or get aggressive themselves]. Most people will probably just see it as character quirks rather than symptoms of anything, or even think he's choosing to act the way he does. His friends would most likely be other neurodivergent people who either experience the same symptoms or don't have enough of a social understanding to realize he's not acting 'correctly' if he doesn't mask.
Unless his friends/family experience similar symptoms to him, they probably wouldn't understand why he does/reacts the way he does. This isn't to say they wouldn't try to accommodate him still, that moreso depends on the individual, but those who don't understand might try to push him to 'get over it' more than someone who gets it. Like Sasza said, over time his friends would be able to accommodate him by noticing what makes him upset/happy and how to help. 'Doc likes to keep his hands busy so I gave him my butterfly knife to spin' or ' the yelling in the hall was bothering him so I asked if he wanted to go to outside with me' could be ways of accommodating him without realizing, basically seeing his symptoms and trying to find an easy solution to help, wether or not they understand them. They could also give him unhelpful solutions while trying to accommodate, which would probably just further stress Doc if given in a stressful situation. Essentially unless he knows what helps and tells them it would be a guessing game for them [if he does that or his friend[s] respect it depends on them]. Try to think of his symptoms and what might be available at the time to help [like stim toys didn't exist back then but butterfly knives did, and ear defenders weren't a thing but he could walk away if needed].
As to how he'd accommodate himself, he wouldn't know words like 'stim' or 'overstimulated,' but if he doesn't care about/understand social norms he would be more likley to 'move in odd ways' or exit an upsetting area. A more socially conscious person might try to hide it, like using small tactile stims [i.e. rubbing a cloth or tapping his foot] or making excuses to leave an upsetting area. He might also be able to mask and try to just bear it, only unmasking around friends or in private.
Also the wiki said he was born in 1851 but died in 2020, and although autism would be named during his lifetime I'm not sure he would identify with it. The first medical documentation of autism was in 1877, and at the time it was called developmental [r-slur]. I doubt he'd want to identify with that, and even later on autism was only ever studied in children, and of course was not thought of well. It was thought to be caused by cold parenting or a form of psychosis/schizophrenia exclusive to children in the early to mid 1900's. For many, many years the only idea of autism he'd have would essentially be that. Because most studies at the time thought autism could be 'grown out of' [with exception to higher support needs people] he'd have lived most of his life at that point believing it was a child only disease. Even if he hadn't heard about autism until the late 1900's-early 2000's, it was still thought of as a stigmatized childhood disease by the public until recently [even by people today, hence the blog's existence]. If he's the type of character to be less set in his opinions at an old age then maybe later he could read on modern autism and identify with it, but I find older people tend to prefer dismissing disability for the sake of avoiding any change.
I hope this was at all helpful!
Mod Rot
#mod sasza#violethunter0816#mod rot#historical fiction#tuberculosis representation#autism representation#historical setting#disability history#ableism
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I have a question and I hope other people give their opinion on this too. Do you think incest couples/ships are inherently toxic or is it possible for them to be healthy? I know a lot of people do ship incest for the toxic elements so I don't know if people dig the more cute fluffy stuff if that makes sense.
Hi Anon,
Your question and any replies are very welcome. (Any replies to this post sent as asks will be added as edits to this post to keep it in one thread.)
Personally, I don't think there's any question that an incest couple/ship can be healthy, even if plenty (maybe even most) of them aren't. Obviously a writer telling a fiction story can tell any story they want to. In real life, it seems often like most incest is unhealthy or abusive. That may be true. But it's important to remember that most incest remains a secret, especially the consensual kind, because it's stigmatized and generally illegal, so people don't talk about it.
There are plenty of shippers who like toxic incest ships, but I think you'll find around here that the majority of us only like or also like fluffy stuff too. Personally, I'm mostly into love-story-happy-ending incest ships.
There are some discussion posts on this topic in this tag.
There are people out there who will say that incest is inherently abusive or that it can't be healthy. I think they're wrong. I think the opposite can proven to most people's satisfaction, but that's a bigger job than I'm up for.
Thanks for your question!
ETA:
From @shipcestfan
Hi, Ship. ShipCestFan here. I wanted to reply to the OP's question from a few days ago: I have a question and I hope other people give their opinion on this too. Do you think incest couples/ships are inherently toxic or is it possible for them to be healthy? I know a lot of people do ship incest for the toxic elements so I don't know if people dig the more cute fluffy stuff if that makes sense. I wholeheartedly agree with you, S. that incest ships can be healthy. I'm of the belief that mainstream art & film have become so consumed with $$$ that they worry about how their product will be viewed that they have to make it toxic. I have a lot of respect for those artists that don't follow this trope. And I think that has only convinced the sheep-like general public that it MUST be toxic if it's on TV. The US is esp bad at this generalization. IRL, the stigma and legality of it as you said, drives most to remain underground. I think this is ALSO esp true in the US. I think a lot of other countries see cestships a lot differently, particularly between consenting adults (this is by observation not causation). And yes, absolutely, there can be (and are) abusive cestships. But is it the cestship that makes it abusive? IMVHO, most/all of these other versions of cestships have some other form of abuse associated with the cestship, be it age, noncon, etc. Take that age-abuse out of it; take the noncon/forced-abuse out of it; assume that the 2 adults are emotionally/mentally stable. Then what do you have left? Perhaps a beautiful cestship mutually agreed upon by two emotionally healthy, consenting adults. I think most people think one or both parties HAS to be emotionally or mentally unstable, even if they are adults and it is seemingly consensual, thereby leading back to a toxic set up. I disagree. I totally believe two emotionally and mentally stable adults in a consenting cestship CAN exist. And I truly believe they do IRL. As you said, they're just in the closet. Personally, I think there are A LOT more of these adult consensual cestships in our society across the globe than we really know. A lot. In one of my IRL observations I hope to submit to Ship2 one day, I'll tell of my friend who left the Amish community. Very emotionally healthy woman; very mentally stable. Very much in a healthy, non-toxic, supportive cestship with her bio father. She was in her lat 20s; he in his late 40s. They do exist. I may have mentioned in a previous post that I write/publish erotic stories. I don't advertise them in your blog because they are explicitly erotic and that's not what I want your blog to be about (nor my contribution to it). But I mention it to say one reason I started writing/publishing is because 99.9% of erotic stories I was reading (even cestships) contained a 1) lack of romance in cestships and 2) contained toxicity/abuse andor no happy-endings in / with the cestships. I felt that it WAS possible to have a romantic and realistic cestship in a, likewise, very sexually explicit novel/novelette without having to resort to toxicity and abuse. And I also make it a point to make sure the cestships in my stories live happily ever after, like my Amish friend. So to answer the OP's question? Yes, I absolutely think it's possible to have a non-toxic cestship - in fiction and IRL.
I think what you said about some people believing incest will only exist if at least one party is damaged, unstable, mentally ill, etc. is really important. Because that's what's behind this belief about all incest being toxic, but it's not true.
And thank you for doing your part and contributing some romantic incest to the erotica stage!
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You are welcome in this place, but be warned, for dangers lay within...
Well met, friends. You enter the lair of Miss May, hypnotist, writer, and Dominant. I'm the horniest, kinkiest asexual you're ever likely to meet, apart from every other grey-ace I know, I have Extensive Opinions on Many Subjects, there's so many disabilities in this fleshy prison of Mine that it's almost easier to list the ones I don't have, and I am extremely interested in hypnosis for both sexual and non-sexual reasons, on account of the fact that it’s bloody witchcraft. In the (paraphrased) words of Sir Pratchett (GNU): just because you know how it works, doesn’t mean it’s not magic. The fact that it’s unbelievably hot doesn’t hurt, mind.
Age: I'm old enough to remember the idea of online privacy. The only thing you need to know about Me is that I am a legal adult. Fun fact: you can dox someone with their name, age, and hometown really easily. Don't tell the entire goddamned internet your personal information. Lie to corporations, for fuck's sake.
If, for some reason, this irritates you, please answer these questions: what's your name? What about your age? Mh-hm. Noted. And what high school did you go to? In what city or town? Okay, thank you. And, one last one, how many people on the entire planet share that exact same set of answers? Two? Three? None? Yeah. And you've brought this up in casual conversation how many times without thinking about it? On the internet, where literally anyone could find records of it? Protect your damned privacy.
Gender: Good question! Answer in progress. There's definitely more girl in there than I originally thought, but who knows if it's enough to win a majority vote in the pronoun elections. For now, please assume I will respond to most things. She/they is preferred, but I've found that there are specific scenarios in which I respond better to he/him or fae/faer. That said, if you have a new and exciting neopronoun I've never heard of before, please tell Me! I love funky genders. I collect them.
Sexuality: Queer. By specific flags, I'm Asexual (grey), Bisexual Lesbian (women by preference, but if you try to ignore My attraction to men and the Funky Options, I'm swapping your knees with your elbows), Aromantic (maybe?), Transgender (DEFINITELY), Nonbinary, and Polyamorous. Just - just go with Queer. It's so much quicker. I also accept Ace, because 1. It’s definitely the most important individual one, and 2. It makes Me sound like a fighter/mech pilot. Which is very cool. (But not a LAM pilot. Those things suck.)
Asks: Send them! I accept your queries and questions with relish! But be warned, pretty thing, if you approach My lair looking all delicious and vulnerable, I may decide to have a bite...
DMs: I will respond to DMs as soon as I'm able, but generally, I'd rather know you before I speak to you on there, with some exceptions. If you're a friend of a friend, or I'm communicating with you for professional reasons (I'm commissioning art from you, or editing some writing, that sort of thing), then speak freely, but do not be surprised if your message receives no reply. I'm a busy lady, I have many things to do.
My tags, of which there are many:
#Miss May's Magic - Inductions, hypnotic language, and other such things I, Myself, have made. Mantras, indoctrination posts, covert triggers… the list goes on. Abandon free will, all ye who enter here.
#How the Magic is Made: Informational posts about hypnosis. Do bear in mind that I love conversational/covert inductions, please. Enter at your own risk…
#Guard your Mind: Safety talks will go here. I have extensive opinions on this subject. Time will tell if they are revealed to you.
#Someone Else's Spellbook - If I see any ideas from someone else that I consider interesting, admirable, or just really goddamn hot, you'll find them here. Consider this a list of My personal favourites from others.
#Dominance as Joy - I'm a Dom. I'm always a Dom. I refuse to not love being a Dom. This involves some wants and needs considered 'violent' or 'distressing'. I want to degrade, hurt, and manipulate people, consensually, on purpose, for our mutual pleasure. I will not apologise for this. Fight Me. And by me I mean My thralls, because one of them has more muscles in their arm than I do in my entire body, and they can lift my ass up. Which is hot. Hi Dear!
That said, I do absolutely understand that you may not wish to see such things‚ so block this tag at your leisure. You are perusing My blog for your own reasons‚ I do not know them. If this is not to your taste, for whatever reason, I actively encourage you to look away.
#Powerful Playthings - Several of my hottest fantasies involve the unique interplay between submission and hypnosis, particularly the idea of having a switch control others for Me. You will find these ideas here. To be clear, I’m not a switch; I just enjoy a good bit of proxy warfare. Who doesn’t?
#Pretty Little Playthings - If I see any cute little subs being especially delectable and vulnerable, I may just have to comment... This may, of course, be to their detriment. Or their advantage; after all, shouldn't they want to serve Me?
#Thralls at All Times - CnC, constant control, unawareness, the unrelenting devotion to My will, anything that reminds My thralls that I command them at all times is found here. CnC is a personal favourite of Mine.
#Fuckery and Fun: Sometimes you just want to be silly. Hypnosis is an excellent tool for that.
#Kind On Purpose: Hypnosis can also be a tool used for immense kindness. Relaxation, de-stressing, massages with phantom touch, the eradication of fear, gender euphoria, hugs, intimacy, closeness. I choose to be kind on purpose.
#Cognitohazard Warning: Any spirals, swinging pendulums, hypnotic foci of all forms, they’ll be found here. I tend to avoid flashy ones by preference, but My standards may differ from yours, so if you’re at risk of eyestrain or worse, this is the tag to block. They should all be under readmores (and if you notice that one isn’t, please tell Me, I have not yet achieved apotheosis and can as such still make mistakes), but still, if you want to avoid those, block this. Or, if you want to be good for Me, have fun staring~
#Hot Shit - Listen, I may be ace, but people can still be hot. Sometimes. I like boobs. Boobs are good. Mmm, tiddy. Need to grow Me some of those…
#Project Masterwork: This one, my friends, I shall be keeping to Myself. Though, there is one person who might figure it out...
#Transgenderism and Faggotry: The gayest most trans shit imaginable. My ultimate goal is to create a post so transgender that it performs gender-reassignment surgery on everyone who reads it. And also causes Joanne Rowling to explode. Love trans people more than you hate transphobes, though. I'll know if you don't.
To be clear: this tag will be a celebration of queerness, never a challenge, or a discussion of, say, transphobia. While I may well discuss that topic, it will be tagged separately, under Masks Off, most likely. This is for joy, not for sorrow.
#The Gallery: I do love a good piece of Art. And art. Paintings, drawings, pixel art, and everything else, you'll find it here.
#Words Words Words - Should I ever feel the need to talk about my writing on this blog, or just writing in general, you'll find it here. Mostly this will relate to…
#The House of Fun - My kinky hypnotic writing universe. No clue if I'm ever going to talk about it here, but it does exist, and I assure you I am pioneering new and gayer forms of sex with every word I write for it. Also demons. Demons are hot.
#Mind Over Metal - Big robots, cybernetics, and mechs are extremely cool. No further information required. Also, yes, I am a robofucker. I see you, C&H Kalisto. I see that tetsubo. The things I would do to you are not covered by the Utopian Pillars.
#Speak of the Devil - I have a very specific kink for demons. Succubi, Tieflings, anything that carries hell in its heart, spells on its lips, and horns. More of my thralls should have horns, I think. The better for me to use as handles.
#Tally Five - Anything relating to my experiences with asexuality and how that affects my gender, kinkiness, and sexuality will end up here. It's a complex one, to be sure...
#Miss May's Meanderings - At some point, I will inevitably begin rambling about a subject partially or completely unrelated to hypnosis or kink. This will go here. Or I might also ramble about kink! That works too!
#Pinned to the Wall - Personal favourites, for whatever reason. Anything that particularly strikes My fancy can be found here. Note, this most certainly does not mean they're better in some way than the other posts - just that they stick with Me in a way others don't.
#Supplicants Speak to Me - A record of any asks I may receive from others, for good or for ill. Come into my parlour! It ended well enough for the spider‚ didn't it? Be at ease, honoured guest; the only dangers you'll find here are very, very enjoyable. I'm sure you'll agree with me on that... and on a great many other things, too.
#All are Welcome - Disability-related posts, specifically in regards to kink. Everyone is welcome here. Everyone. Regardless of how your bodies and minds may betray you, you deserve to be loved how you desire. This includes Me, too, hard as it is to remember some days...
#Masks Off - This is My 'serious issues' tag. If I'm putting this in play, I'm making a genuine point, going off on a major rant, or otherwise being far more direct and less hypnohorny than this blog normally is. Imagine Me turning off the spiral on-screen and replacing it with diagrams, or the like.
#Divine Your Fate - The eagle-eyed amongst you may have noticed that I have something of a divinity kink. I will admit, referring to Myself in capital letters is something of an affectation from this part of Me. This will be one part heretical conversation, two parts acts that would get Me banned from the church I used to go to, and one part lusting over the idea of corrupting the divine to My purposes.
#Remember It My Way - Memory play! Unawareness, memory modification, common sense alterations, long-term brainwashing, the occasional bit of gaslighting, induced forgetfulness... The list goes on. In fact, you're sure there's supposed to be more here... aren't you?
#Mesmerising Magecraft: Hypnosis is literal, actual magic, yes, but sometimes fiction creates more magical magics of magicness, and here shall they be found. Enchantments, spells, magical beings both benign and malevolent; this is the place for them.
#Supremely Suggestible: Superpowers! Some of them are interesting to Me! And not just the mind-controlling ones! But seriously, there's a lot of hypnosis and hypnosis-adjacent stuff going on in superhero (and, more importantly, supervillain) fiction that I'd like to talk about sometimes.
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If you scrolled enough on this page you know that no character is safe from me when it cames to Nico's mistreatment. Not even Chiron.
I have a very grey opinion of him,I don't hate him but I also don't like him. He is in the middle of tolerance for me,because let's be honest,the guy made some questionable decisions during PJO for being the millennial teacher of legendary heroes and head of the only demigods's greek camp for years.
I see a lot of criticism about the "No one told Nico that his sister died,they were waiting for me to do so." scene,which is a good thing because it's fucked up. Chiron is the adult here,but he didn't do shit and waited for an already stressed and guilty Percy to tell the news. And while I love Nico with all of my heart and understand that he was extremely hurt by Bianca's death,telling Percy that he should have be him to die is just adding to his trauma. The poor boy is barely 14,saw 2 people he went on a quest with die (and he already bleamed himself for their death,even tho it's not his fault,before this) and had a whole rollercoaster for his mission to save Annabeth,while dealing with camp being shit to him because Thalia was back. And what does Chiron do? Instead of helping him,he give him another emotional draining moment with a 10 years old that had to process his older sister died and now he's alone,without a family. Great job Chiron,couldn't do it better.
And when Nico run away? Percy and Annabeth were the only one searching for him at the start,but when they went to Chiron and explained the situation (without telling about his parentage),he just went on with a "Oh poor soul,hoping that he will be eaten by the monster instead of joining Luke's side." Like,what the fuck? Who the fuck say that about a 10 years old to an another child,that even tried to get him back multiple times while the adult didn't do shit? Chiron,you good here? Because I'm pretty sure that this isn't the way you need to behave with children: who cares if they are demigods,heroes,war veterans or whatever else,they are all children. It's already rare to live past 16,18 if you get lucky,don't treat them like shit.
Nico was alone in a place he didn't know,and we all know the forest isn't a safe place even if it's inside camp (look what happened during Percy's first year there-). Instead of trying to do something he just goes on with his no sense. He didn't even try to do something about it. Percy and Annabeth did. Chiron need to thanks Nico's golden heart, otherwise it wasn't going to end nicely. And beside,I'm pretty sure that being eaten alive by a monster is worst than working with other demigods for a Titan that isn't even back yet. Chiron you need to check your priorities here. Also the irony that Nico wasn't eaten or joined Kronos,and just did his own things alone in THE Labyrinth,one of the most dangerous place for demigods,will always be funny to me.
But really,where is his teacher's wisdom at? Chiron trained so many heroes for all of his life,and now that it cames to modern children,or pre-teens,he don't know what to do or how to act? This is insane even for their standard.
And even tho he is the "legal guardian" of the camp,he still doesn't do much for Camp Half-Blood. Talking with the people that suspect something? Ok. Pretending to be someone's guardian to avoid them trouble? Fine. Help maintain camp's coverage as a strawberry field? Sure. Calling for reinforcements during a war? Thanks. Making the demigods respect camp's rules? Alright. Teaching some classes there and here? Good.
But these are simple things and quite frankly the bare minimum he should do. The demigods are all abandoned to themselves,by both their parents and even by the one that should help them. He isn't the worst,but he also isn't the best.
When Thalia come back,he favored her to Percy in any way possible,and the whole "She might be the child of the profecy since she is going to turn 16 in a bit." excuse is bullshit. Luke was not even half done with his planning during TTC,the real game started at the half of BotL,so it was impossible for him to be already ready for the final battle. They all knew that,Thalia too. But no,Chiron decided to focus more on her and ignore Percy,when he could have teached both of them. Again,thanks Chiron,such a good teacher you are.
There are moments where he comes in clutch: during SoM he is the one that save them from Luke's ship,and in TLO he calls for reinforcement during the battle against Kronos,and he is kinda there if some demigod wants to talk to him. But again,most of those things are bare minimum.
I don't hate him,but I just don't understand why he is so well liked when all of the time he just does....nothing? And give Percy more stress and problems (And basically hoped that Nico would be eaten-).
#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson and the heroes of olympus#heroes of olympus#nico di angelo#percy jackson#chiron#camp half blood#the titans curse#battle of the labyrinth#the last olympian#luke castellan#thalia grace#kronos#chiron isn't a good teacher#he give percy most of his problems#he doesn't really do that much at camo either#the demigods are by themselves running wild#character analysis#dynamic analisys
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I have an adult Lottie req!! Reader has a stall in the farmers market next to where the purple, sorry, heliotrope, people sell honey and reader has become sort of close with Lisa and is generally a very chill person until one day Lottie is there and reader tries to flirt but is miserably awkward about it so Lisa has to be like “basically they’re trying to ask you out” to Lottie. Thank you!



Honey.
Contains: fluff, idiots in love, legal age gap, florist reader, reader is a horny bastard, beekeeper Lottie (aka, Lottie is a nerd), suggestive, crack fic threated seriously, grammar mistakes, done quickly, not proofread, I used the word "realize" more times than I realized ( ;D ). 250k, about five pages.
Author's note: I am sorry anon but I had to write this faster than usual, since I have so much stuff to write from now on until the end of summer. So, there might be many more grammar mistakes, sadly. Also, unreleated, but this might get cringy at times. I hope it's still okay! Enjoy!
The floral smells of the flowers filled your nostrils while you are lazily resting on your chair. You loved your florist job but at times, it could get boring; spending your days selling flowers was more tiring than it seemed. The only days you had to rest were Saturdays and Sundays and even those were spent taking care of the many flowers and plants in your little garden.
During the afternoon, the marketplace was quiet; people had just finished their morning errands and were either going back to work or to their homes. Still, you had clients: an old granny with her niece, a young woman with a gardening passion, an old man with a walking cane, a woman in her mid forties with the most beautiful dark eyes you've ever seen. That last one struck you.
She had come around four pm, when the marketplace started to become lively once more before shutting down for the day. You had already seen her; in fact, you had eyed her all day. She introduced herself as Lottie, your "market neighbor".
Her words are distant, "....y, are you listening to me?".
You are brought back to earth when she waves her hand before your eyes. "Uh, sorry! I was... thinking. Can you uhm, repeat yourself?" she gives you a weird look. You hope she hasn't caught you fawning over her; "I said I would like to purchase something".
You jolt up from your seat and put on your gloves. "Sure! What would you like?", Lottie takes a look at the small paper in her hand, "I would like... chamomile, echinacea, aster, cosmos and heliotrope, if you have it". Her hands brush on yours while you hand her her purchase; you can distantly feel your cheeks heating up, but pay it no mind. "Would you like to come take a visit to my stall? Maybe I could even make you join our community" she says, but something in her voice makes you distrust her. "No thank you, I'm fine on my own. But I'll happily stop by later".
You are interrupted by the sounds of an old granny almost knocking over a few plants. "... as soon as work allows me".
You close the stall one hour earlier than usual. The marketplace smells of food, wood, flowers and honey. "Listen, young woman!" you hear an old lady yell while you walk towards the purple stall, "There is no way you will sell me chestnut honey as all-flower honey! I am old, but not blind!"
Lottie was unfocused, staring into the distance, but once she spots you she completely abandons her poor employer to the old woman's ramblings. "You've come!" her hands close on yours. She flashes you her beautiful smile.
Her stall is small, consisting of a counter covered in a purple cloth with countless jars of honey and honeycomb on it and a beehive on display. Near the end of a table you see a flier. "Join our vibrant community!" it reads; "We help you understand and overcome your traumas! Become the best version of yourself!" written in bold purple font. "So, are you guys like uhm... a cult?"
It seems like Lottie was prepared for your questions, as she answers right away. "No, we are an intentional community" -"It's a cult", you think to yourself- "that specializes in helping others and ourselves".
A uhm leaves your lips, "I like the purple shades" you say. "It's a heliotrope". Man she's so weird. But so hot.
She gestures towards the overcrowded honey stand, "May I interest you in some of our all natural honey?". Countless jars sit on the counter: some big, some small, some filled with a dark substance, some so light you can see through them. Hit by the warm light, they make for a beautiful golden spectacle. You analyze the different names written on them: chestnut, pine, all flower, thyme, acacia, wildflower, eucalyptus, clover...
"You seem to be very passionate about honey" you tell Lottie, not having realized she is very close, towering behind you. "Making honey and beekeeping is hard. But, with the right care and treatments" she picks up an amber coloured jar, moving it and reflecting light in its shades, "something like this can come to life".
Why don't you tell me more about honey while we're fucking?
"This honey is particularly tasty. It's acacia. Perfectly sweet, not too hard on the tongue and smooth". She takes a small flat wooden stick and dips it in one of the displays made for clients. "Here, try it" on the tip of the stick there is a drop of the same shade of honey. You are about to take it from Lottie's hand, but she keeps a tight grip on it.
Oh for God's sake...
Your lip closes on the tip of the stick, savoring the taste of the honey. She's right, it's sweet but not too much. It's clear Lottie made it with love and care. Your eyes avoid her intense gaze, trying to maintain your ego intact.
The old lady and Lottie's employer are watching the two of you. You see a flash of disgust in the older woman's face. "Ugh!" she grunts, sauntering away, "I'm never coming here again!". The employer tries to call the woman back, but is promptly shutted by Lottie. "We didn't need her money anyway" she says, but you see a look of hurt painting her face. "Lisa, pack everything. We're leaving".
"Are you... are you coming again here?" The question is almost stupid, of course she will come back, but Lottie smiles. "Of course I will. I'm not usually here, but another alcol- employer is feeling ill, so I will be in his place for some weeks". You look up at the woman, cheeks still hot after your little show. "You... you don't come here often?" she smiles at you and it takes everything you have to not combust on the spot. "I am the community manager. I usually attend to other matters".
Oh she has gone from a ten to a one hundred. I love women with power.
"Uh I... I see". Lottie gestures towards the girl who has begun packing up, "Lisa is almost always here. She likes the lively atmosphere of the market. Don't you, Lisa?" you hear the girl scoff, followed by a "As much as I'd like to see my fish again". Lottie looks at her with a mean 'I am going to scold you' face, "Lisa. Packing". The girl apologizes and starts to move the jars into boxes faster.
Lottie takes the jar she had shown you before, setting it in your hands. "On the house". You are confused for a moment, looking puzzled at the amber liquid. "But- but this is expensive! I can't accept this gift!" She walks back to the stand, moving to help Lisa pack up. "Consider it a gift. To make you remember me".
Oh you're gonna remember her alright.
Over the last few weeks, you've visited Lottie's stand over and over again, during work hours, during lunch, sometimes you closed the shop one hour earlier or opened it one hour later. Lottie had loved your company, but ever so worried, she was preoccupied with your finances. She had tried multiple times to give you money or to make you join her community, fearing that you weren't in the best economical situation. You had assured her that most of your income came from your shop, not the market, but she wasn't very easy to convince.
You had also become close with Lisa. Very close. One might use the word "besties" to describe you two. And, you had accidentally spilled about your little crush to her. "Lottie is such a nice person" she said, while the older woman wasn't present, "she makes me feel cared for". You had been very happy to talk about your crush. "Oh yeah she's so funny, smart and so, so beautiful but- you know in a- in a normal way..." needles to say, you got caught red handed.
And Lisa was more than happy to help her new friend out.
The first attempt had gone horrible.
Lisa was near you, coaching you into flirting with Lottie. She gives you a pat on the shoulder, a smile and encouragement, then, you walk over to Lottie, who was attending to the beehive.
"Hey..." you said, making Lottie look at you, "Hello. Something the matter?". She stands up, hands clutching together as you saw her doing so many times throughout the past weeks.
"Have you, have you always been so... symmetrical...? ", a dead silence falls over your shoulders. Lottie watches you, confused and tilting her head to the side, "What?".
" Nevermind!" you skip over to Lisa who watched the whole scene, cringing internally for you. "Come on, next time it will be better!" you look over at her with the most shameful look ever in your eyes.
"I am going to kill myself" Lisa looked at you with disdain, but kept most of it to herself, "Don't say that".
The second attempt was easier, but a helping hand aided you; well, aided Lottie.
You had tried multiple times to flirt with Lottie but to no avail, always either bailing out the second before flirting or straight up ruining your chances. "Hey" Lisa says, eyeing Lottie, who was cataloging the various honey jars. She looked over at her acolyte, who had an uncharacteristic teasing smile on her lips, "Yes?"; Lisa looked over at you, who were arguing with some old woman back at your stall.
Her thumb pointed towards you, "You see that thing?" Lottie is a bit taken aback by Lisa's words. "Yeah?" your voice rises, "That thing?" the client starts to call you names. "Yes I see her" she throws compost over your apron. "That gremlin?" you call the old woman a bitch, "Oh Lisa stop, she's a bit messy sometimes but she's not a gremlin" your cute pink apron is covered in compost and petals. "...Sometimes" Lottie says, looking at your tired figure. "I better go help her..." but Lisa's hands stop her in her tracks, she leans up and whispers in her ear "She likes you".
Now, Lottie is old. Older than she ever realized, but throughout the years, some words and tones of voice always had the same secret meaning. Lottie moves back, a hopeful but scared stare in her eyes, "She...she does?" Lisa giggles, having known about both yours and her manager's crushes long before you realized. "Yeah, she does. As in 'like you', you know?" Lottie takes a moment to understand and walk to you, with the intent on telling you about her feelings once and for all.
But when she looks at you, covered in compost, smelling and tired, she knows that it's not the right time. She can't fuck this up. "Here, let me take care of you" she takes your hand and guides you to her tent, where Lisa is peeking at you both. "Change into this" she gives you some purple -heliotrope- clothes, "It's nothing, really" she answers your silent request when you look at her. Seeing you change -after finding a public restroom and having washed off the stench- in her signature color made Lottie's heart skip a beat. "You are beautiful..."
The third attempt was the one. You had gone on your own to Lottie, having decided to tell her your feelings. Lottie was resting, as no one was at her stand. " Hey... Do you want to go on a walk with me?" normally she would decline, there was always work to do, however...the marketplace had been emptier than usual. With the start of autumn and the sky getting dark sooner, people preferred going back home. There's nothing wrong with taking a small walk, right?
A small breeze blows on the streets, freezing the tip of your nose. You and Lottie are both silent, letting the sounds of the closing shops fill the air. The silence is not unwelcome, it's calm, it feels right. You feel Lottie's fingers tangle with your own, spreading warmth from your hand to every corner of your body. You are tempted to tell her, to tell her your feelings, but only silence follows. "You are a nice person, you know?" Lottie speaks into the space, and for a moment you think she's talking to somebody else, until you realize you two are the only ones who are walking in this street, having stranded far from the market.
"I am?" she sighs, you are so hard on yourself. "You are. You are beautiful, smart, funny. You are..." she takes a deep breath, steadying herself, "You are someone I wish to be closer to". She stops, looking into your eyes. "I want to be able to... love you" and that last part takes everything out of her, lungs left empty of air and heart hammering inside her ribcage. "Can you let me love you?".
You can't believe what she's saying. Maybe you've died and your brain is just playing fantasies to make you feel less lonely. "Please..." but the grip on your hands tells you otherwise, that you're here, you're here and Lottie just confessed her love for you.
Lottie is sure to have messed up, to have destroyed the only chance she had ever had to form a meaningful relationship outside of that place, outside of the compound, outside of her head-. But the voices stops once you kiss her. It's so tender, so loving that she thinks her heart will break. Happiness and tranquility flow through her veins, into her brain and heart. She touches your arms, any inch of your body to feel closer, her hands fall to your hips. She feels as if all the oxygen in the world won't be enough for her lungs to take in after each kiss, as if all the years in human history won't be enough to love you.
Lisa has finally finished packing. After a long day of work, she truly needs a relaxing bath at the compound. But neither Lottie or you seem to have come back. It's beginning to get late, the sky is already darkening and the way back home is a long one. She leaves her's and Lottie's possessions unattended and searches for the both of you, following the street you have walked down on. There you are: kissing together, street lights shining down on the both of you, shading you in amber colors.
A florist and a beekeeper. A match made in heaven.
#yellowjackets x reader#yellowjackets x you#yellowjackets fic#lottie matthews x you#lottie matthews x reader#fluff#idiots in love#yellowjackets#sapphic
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