#including in my own damn country

[ipwarn]

The long Easter weekend is nearly over - it's been a chill four days here - and so I just want to once again call for a ceasefire. Because while large parts of the world have been spending time with their families and eating chocolate, an entire country has continued to be bombed, shot and purposefully starved.

[nevermind-i-forgot-whats-that]

Sometimes, as much as I love internet communities and spaces, I really think a lot of people have spent so much time in sanitized, morally pure echo chambers that they lose sight of realism and life outside the internet.

I live in Alabama. My fiancée and I cannot hold hands down the street without fear of homophobic assholes. We have an abortion ban with no exceptions for rape or incest. We are one of the poorest states in the US with some of the lowest scores on metrics related to quality of life, including maternal mortality, healthcare, education, and violence. It’s not a coincidence that we are also one of the most red, one of the most Republican states in the Union. In 2017 the UN said the conditions in Alabama are similar to those in a third-world country.

Trump gave a voice to the most violently racist, sexist, xenophobic groups of people who, unfortunately for most of us in the Southern U.S., run our states and have only grown more powerful since his rise to power. The Deep South powers MAGA, and we all suffer for it.

We have no protections if they don’t come from the federal government.

I know people are suffering internationally and my heart is with them. However, this election is not just about foreign policy - we have millions of Americans right here at home living in danger, living in areas where they have been completely abandoned by their local leaders. We need this win.

No candidate is perfect, but for the first time in my voting lifetime I’m excited to vote. I’m excited for the Kamala Harris/Tim Walz ticket because they are addressing the issues close to home. They’re advocating for education as the ticket to a better life, but without the crippling student debt. They’re advocating for the right to love who you love without fear and with pride. Kamala has always been pro-LGBT+ and so has Tim. Again, if you’re queer in the South, we don’t have support unless it comes from the federal government, and we absolutely will not have support if the Republicans regain the White House.

Kamala speaks in length about re-entry programs to reduce recidivism and help people who have been arrested and imprisoned regain their lives. Tim Walz supported restoring voting rights to felons. In the South, you know who comprise the majority of felons? Members of minorities. It’s one of the major tools of systemic racism and mass disenfranchisement, and arguably the modern face of slavery (there are some fantastic documentaries and books that explain the connection between the post-Reconstruction South and the disproportionate rates of imprisonment for BIPOC). Having candidates who recognize this and want to restore the freedom and rights to people who have come into contact with the criminal justice system? And keep them from having to go to prison in the first place? That’s refreshing. That’s exciting.

I would *love* to live in a country where women’s rights are respected, where LGBT+ rights and protections are a given, where we treat former criminals and individuals experiencing mental health crises with respect and dignity. I would *love* to live in a country where education is free of religious interference and each and every citizen is entitled to a fair start and equal opportunities.

But I don’t live in that country. Millions and millions of Americans find their rights and freedoms up for debate and on the ballot.

Project 2025 poses the largest threat to the future of our democracy as we know it. We are being called to fight for the future of our country.

We have to put on our oxygen masks first before we can help others.

You don’t have moral purity when you wash your hands of the millions of us who are still fighting for own freedoms right here.

The reality is that a presidential candidate is a best fit, and not a perfect fit. But comparatively speaking? Kamala is pretty damn close.

[yawnderu]

"Quit lookin' at me like that." He demands, accent growing thicker by the minute at his frustration.

"Like what?" You manage to gasp out, cheeks swollen and bloody at the beating you just took. Your hands are clasped together on your lap, forced to sir on your knees as you look up at him.

What stared back at you wasn't your loving Simon, no— this creature was much different. Ghost was glaring down at you, eyes cold and devoid of emotion other than pure, raw anger.

"Like a fuckin' lost puppy. Like you don't know what you did." His grip on the trigger tightens, holding the muzzle to your temple.

Please, tell me it isn't true. For the love of God, tell me it's all a lie.

"You leaked our information to fuckin' Konni?" He asks in disbelief, just wanting to confirm what he knew all along. It all connected once he found out; the late night escapades, the detached look in your eyes, how you kept missing every single celebration with the team claiming you were busy. Maybe if he noticed sooner, things would have been different.

Your silence and the way your head hangs low in shame is all the confirmation he needs. His gloved hand grips the pistol harder, the rough material almost merging with his skin.

You don't even have the courage to look at me.

"Everythin' we did together... I trusted you with my bloody life. I told you all my secrets and let you see all of me, and this is how you fuckin' pay me?" He doesn't even wait for an answer, three silenced gunshots ringing in his ears as he dumps the bullets into your chest, looking away before he hears the familiar thud of a body hitting the ground.

Goddammit. God damn it all to fucking hell.

Simon chokes on a harsh breath, the corners of his mouth twisting into a frown underneath his balaclava, jaw slackening. He doesn't dare look at you, unwilling to let his last image of you be a pool of blood with dead eyes.

He cried all his tears when he was a little kid, yet he can somehow feel the familiar sting in his eyes, causing him to sigh loudly and shake his head. His pistol goes back in its holster as he turned to leave, not sparing you a single glance.

Dying alone is a scary thought. You come to the world in a room full of people, your mother's happy face looking at her own creation, nurses and doctors smiling and celebrating you even when all your tiny body can do is to cry.

The thought of death isn't what scares you, no. Being a soldier for the special forces only ends two ways: retirement or going home in a box. That's something you came to terms with a long time ago, when your much younger hand held the pen, signing the contract that sold your soul to your comrades, a silent eternal promise of "we fight together, and we die together".

Your shaky hands grasp at the snow as you drag yourself forward, gear all of sudden heavier than ever; crushing you down like Atlas holding the sky. Your blood leaves a dirty trail on the pure, clean snow, marking you down as an easy target if Simon decides to come back for you— you know Ghost won't.

By the time someone manages to find you, your fingers are purple and your lips are painted an awful shade of blue, body adorned with burns from the cold snow digging into your bare skin. You allow yourself to rest as soon as the warmth of someone's hand makes contact with your skin, barely able to register the panicked scream and loud orders being barked.

Labeled as a hero after saving the country from Makarov's terrorist attack, Simon sported a new brand of chest candy on his uniform. Colorful ribbons adorned the right side of his blazer. His chest is still puffed out with pride as he steps into his small flat in London, all memories of you thrown away, including the ring he kept hidden in a drawer.

''Cute shoulder pads.'' Your finger hovers above the trigger, finally stepping out of the dark.

[meiwritesyan]

- 001:: yandere idol -

ʚ ♡ ɞ summary: you absolutely loves the well-known idol that everyone usually talks about, including you. guess what? he obsessed over likes you too!

ʚ ⚠︎ ɞ warnings: yandere,obsessive behaviors,stalking behaviors, lowercase intended! do tell me if there is missing any other things that i should mention in warnings! i do not condone the action of yanderes irl!!

ʚïɞ pairing[s]: romantic yandere male idol x gn reader pt 2

ʚ ✉ ɞ wc: 0.2k

ʚ ˙ᵕ˙ ɞ request: ✗

ʚ ✦ ɞ intro | byf | masterlist

ʚ ☁︎ ɞ mei's note: this is sucks :( but i hope you like it! the flirt a bit weird to me idk likes n reblogs are very much appreciated!

ʚ ♥︎ ɞ yan idol who met you on one of his meet and greet. you are just so cute!

ʚ ♥︎ ɞ yan idol who actually suspicious of you when you gave him a small kitten plushie, he suspect you to put a camera or voice recorder to stalk his life secretly. surprisingly,when he check the plushie,theres no camera,or even voice recorder! now,he feel bad for destroying the handmade plushie you just made for him. he tries to fix it,but he just made it worst, damn it! it didnt even have the look of cute kitten anymore!

ʚ ♥︎ ɞ yan idol who start to trust you since the plushie incident. he is eager if theres any other event in your country,he really wants to meet you again!

ʚ ♥︎ ɞ yan idol who will learn your native language and will try to talk with your native language,trying to impress you(if your native language not the same as him)

ʚ ♥︎ ɞ yan idol who have ppl to stalk look over you,since his career + schedule wont let him see your adorable face everyday

ʚ ♥︎ ɞ yan idol who also gives you little gifts such as candy or chocolate bar secretly into your hands when you ask him to sign an autograph at his album etc

ʚ ♥︎ ɞ yan idol who winks at you when he sees you at one of his concert. your flustered face are so cute! if not for his career,he would explode by your cuteness right away! but of course,he needs to be professional

ʚ ♥︎ ɞ yan idol who will sends at your address a vip ticket,when he finally knew abt your address

ʚ ♥︎ ɞ yan idol who will wear a cute onesie of your fav animal at one of his live!

ʚ ♥︎ ɞ yan idol who will flirts only with you. you are so cute when you are blushing!

ʚ ♥︎ ɞ "hi cutie [nickname] ~! where should i sign my autograph? on our marriage certificate it is?"

@meiwritesyan all right reserved. do not copy,repost or claiming my work as your own!

[writer-komaru]

Wild One’s Rodeo 𓃗

Warning✧ [explicit] Grinding, no protection, dubcon.

Characters✧ Boothill

Words✧ 1464

Summary✧ As a waitress for one of the most popular bars in penacony, you’ve met your fair share of strange characters. A smug man adorned in exotic furs who tried making a bet with the bartender, a sparkling knight who gave every lady in the bar a rose without even staying for a drink, even an enigmatic woman carrying a purple katana with eyes like a serpent who sat alone at the end of the bar. But never have you met a man like Boothill. A man of steel and whiskey, tying you in hemp like you’re nothing but a naughty cow he’s gonna tame. Give him a rodeo he won’t forget.

“Sorry for the wait, ma’am. Here’s your sundae,” you place a decked out desert in front of an impatient woman who snarls a crude thanks. You’d like to give her a good smack for making you fetch her four other deserts until she is finally satisfied but you had already been scolded two times already. You couldn’t afford to lose another job. Not in this “thriving” economy that had the lower class slaving away while the rich babbled over dozens of mugs of beer or road cars that sped down the busy streets like a comet streaking through the night sky.

You pushed away the unrealistic thoughts and got back to work. “What would ya like, sir?” “How can I help ya, ma’am?” “Would ya like a refill?” The thoughts buzzed and bounced around in your head like a hive of bees; it was beginning to drive ya mad. That was until they suddenly went dead silent.

You placed another tray of expensive alcohol (stuff you’d never dream of buying) onto the faded wooden counter when the doors of the bar flew open, almost splintering into pieces. A shot blasted out into the sky.

“YEEEEHAWW!! How’s all yall fiendin’ tonight?” He hollered out into the crowded bar catching everyone’s attention, including yours. Even though you’ve never seen this man before in your life, the guests erupted into cheers, some even standing up to greet him or share drinks. At Leary it gave you a few seconds to scope him out. He wore a tight, jet-black leather vest and pants, held up by a brown and heavy gold belt. Yet, that wasn’t the main thing that caught your eye. His vest appeared to be cut right above the nipples. But, strangely enough, he didn’t really have any. Instead, his entire upper body from the neck down to his feet and fingertips was entirely plated with titanium, or some similar shiny metal. Could he be some type of robo cowboy?

“Heyyyy little lady, whatcha doin’ on yer own?~” you gasped as he pushed you up against the counter, humming right against your ear with such a deep country accent you felt your legs tremble. He seemed to notice it too, his smirk stretching into a full on smile. “Oh my sweet darlin’, yer gonna fly away like a mayflower in May if ya keep trembling’ like that. Don’t worry babydoll, I got ya~” he chuckled with that rugged, sultry voice as he playfully stroked your hips, as if he was tinkering with some kind of machine, steadfast on fixing your loose legs. But his tinkering only wet your face ablaze.

Who even WAS this man?! You wanted to push him away and scold him but your hips were pinned so hard to the counter you could feel every inch he had. No, you can’t think such dirty thoughts about a guest, no matter how persuasive they were. And damn, was her persuasive.

“What’s with that look, darlin’? Scared I’ll bite?” Lets out a small laugh, “I might be gentle with it if ya say please, mister…~”

“P-please… mister.” you managed out breathlessly

“Awh, aren’t you a cute little lady~ why not we find out what these metal hands’a mine can do to those barrels yer hauling around, huh doll?~” his hands roamed up your body and gave your breasts a firm squeeze. That little move of his snapped you out of your lustful daze to deliver a fiery slap across his cheek.

He takes it like a champ and lets out a light whistle, “wow baby, you sting like hot iron~”

“Y-you can’t just jump on top of a stranger and have your way…” you cross your arms and turn around, peeking back at him to see his reaction. Any other waitress would have called the Bloodhounds of him. But you weren’t just any woman. You were dying for something actually interesting to your monotonous assembly-line ass job and this cowboy might be your ticket to freedom.

“Awwwhhh come on, doll face~ I ain’t mean no harm. When I saw yer curves dressed in that get up I knew I hadta show ya how to properly ride a bull~” he leans forward, taking your hand in his and kissing it with a flirtatious wink. He begins walking back to the door, your hand still in his, “if ya want some hands on learnin’, follow me, pretty thing.”

You immediately ripped off your stained waitress uniform and ran to his side, “Oh Boothill, I’ve been itching for this~”

“Have ya, now?~” he raised an eyebrow in amusement and pulled you into a nearby alleyway, “Well I know just the way to solve a pesky itch~”

“How will-“ before you could even finish your sentence he lifted both of your legs and swung them over his shoulders, your aching pussy pushed flush against his toned metallic abdomen. The hard surface sent electricity zapping through your wet folds; you were not sure if it was your desire or his robotic body sending out small shocks as if to warn you about the power it can showcase.

“Overwhelmed already?~ never been dicked down by a real man, have ya, darling?” He teases, stoking your flames.

“N-no, I have… m-many times…” you bluffed.

“You sure, babydoll? Cuz this cute little pussy down here’s singin’ a different tune and myyyy is it a sweeten’~” he bites his lip as he rubs his hips side to side, the hard as metal rod in his pants grinding against you so good you felt like cumming already and he wasn’t even inside yet.

“P-please….” You begged between gasps.

“Please what, doll?~” he smirked wickedly.

“P-please… p-ple… pl… ease….” You choked out each word, struggling to put them together.

“Two little words and I’ll stretch ya out so good your kitty’ll meow so loud they’ll call animal control,” he gave your chest another teasing squeeze.

“P-please… boothiiiiiilllll….” You cried out.

“That’s a good girl…~” his eyes narrowed with focus as he pushed aside your drenched panties and stroked your folds up and down.

“So sticky and wet… like a rich lil beehive overflowing with thick honey…” he once again rested his head on your shoulder as he aligned himself to your twitching pussy. Without so much as a warning, he rammed right inside, immediately hitting the deepest reaches of your womb, making you release an embarrassingly loud cry and a hot stream of cum all over his shiny abs. “Wowie…~ someone’s really been dying for a proper fucking, huh?” He gripped your hips tight and grunted as he attempted a deeper thrust, “I’ll milk this pretty hole for all its for.”

“Aaaaggh... nnnagggg… s-stop… n-no deep… we… aaACK!~” you choked out moan after moan, almost like you were a pent up teen again. No matter how much you begged, he only went faster and harder, with enough robotic accuracy and consistency you knew you’d be sore for days. It was like he filled each slap of skin with a silent promise to somehow, some way, get you pregnant.

He let out a particularly loud groan in your ear, “oh baby, if ya squeeze me like that… ohhhh doll…~ I just can’t take much more-a this.~ Ya ready? Ready for a real mess?”

“Y-yeah-ahh! Yeeaaaahhhh-Ahhh!” You cried out.

“Darn baby…. Oh… oh fu- f-fudge…. Hold on baby, I’m almost… oh darling, you’re perfect for me!~” with one last growl you feel a large burst of warm cum burst inside of you, dripping out onto the concrete of the secluded alleyway. But instead of giving himself even a moment’s rest, he bites his lip and shoves himself right back in, humping at you like a dog in heat.

“Shi-sugar baby, I just can’t stop breeding this pretty hole… And these massive tits here don’t make it any easier~” he gropes them a bit more before pinching your nipples with a naughty smile.

“A-aaagh!”

“Ohhh~ did someone like that~” he begins fucking you harder and licks your neck, “I didn’t know I had such a foxy lady under me~”

“P-pleasssseeeee boothill…”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll get ya to that edge again…. And again and again and again, oh, you’ll have so much fun with me,” he laughed before delivering a cheeky bite to your neck. Your moans began to soften as your vision darkened, which he caught onto almost as fast as he’s drilling into you.

“I’ve got ya, doll… just let the darkness settle in.” He whispers with a soothing groan as he litters a series of bites along your neck and shoulder, each one fading your vision faster until it is purely black. When the morning comes, you’ll definitely get an ear full from your boss. That is…. If you choose to awake from this beautifully sexy daydream.

Hellooo everyone, I’m so terribly sorry it’s been so long. My life’s gotten a whole lot busier and I haven’t had any inspiration to write in a very very long time. BUT!! Even though this ain’t much compared to my usual stuff, I hope it’s still enjoyable to you all. I love yall so much, looking back at all the kind comments and likes warms my heart more than anything. See yall soon! (I’d be down for a part two if yall like 👀)

[dee-the-red-witch]

One more time, with FEELING? (April Pinned)

Now that we're past the first, let's do this. One. More. Time.

I'm Dee. Queer lesbian trans woman. Just she/her for the pronouns. Not your Responsible Adult, and while I'm safe for MY work, I'm self employed, my bitch of a boss gives zero fucks about adult content, and I believe in a healthy education. Kinky. Poly. Separated. Witch-adjacent. Occultist. Possibly cute/hot according to others. Sex and body positive. What do I do? Art- leatherwork, digital art, and these days, tattooing and tattoo flash. (Click that link for the goods. Tattoos, for locals only, by appointment, etc.)

Writing- One book (with accompanying tarot deck), two more in edits, several more in progress. Completely unscheduled film/tv reviews and weekly tarot spreads.

I'm also in the process of dealing with a massive work backlog, a life starting to fall apart in a few ways, a transition surgery I'm desperately trying to fund the expenses for, and, y'know, all the wonders of being transfem in late-stage capitalism in a christofascist country.

Yes, that's a lot. Welcome to my life.

Let's get the usuals out of the way. Tipping should be mandatory. Terfs, fash, bigots, can and should fuck off out of here. No, I will not tag NSFW or mature, because it ends up getting creators targeted half the time. And because if you're on here you can learn to consume media critically and censor your own damn experience without me doing it for you. Plastics suck, including your precious vegan leather. Land back. Do it alone. Do it weird. Do it scared. No I don't know what a jerma is, and do not tell me. Yes I do swear. A lot.

I love fantasy, horror, cassette futurism, cyberpunk, brutalism, and all sorts of stuff with it. You want my discord or server? Ask me for either. Yes, I still take voice recording requests, and yes, it's the only form of 'content' I do, though I absolutely support creators of other types like mad. You want to help out? Scroll back up and hit any of those links, or just throw money at me screen here.

Otherwise, that's it. Yes, my inbox and messages are still open for now.

[wraithdance]

Tf141 and the reasons their partners (you) get mad at them

Note: there will be a part two on reasons they get mad at their wives but it got too long lmao

Cw: mentions of extreme violence, afab!reader no gendered terms, explicit mentions of sex, slight dub-con, breeding, daddy & size kink if you squint, terrible British-isms and I’m not as funny as I think I am lol -not editing this so read at your own risk

Ghost will piss you off by: Wearing his full military get up (including the hardened skull mask) to intimidate anyone he thinks is interested in you.

It isn’t enough that you verbally decline less than polite or platonic advances, or show off your wedding ring proudly. He wants the weak fucks to know that he kills people for a living and would systematically break every bone in their body, reset them and break them all over again. That is before he stares them right in the eye as he fucks you until there’s enough cream leaking onto his cock to sail to the other side of the pond- thrice.

At least that’s what he told the local butcher who gave you his number last week. The man had been so frightened he burst into great weeping sobs and banned you both from coming into the shop.

You’d been pissed for a week straight and yelled at Simon every time you thought about it. It always ended with his large hands grasping at the back of your neck, damn near scruffing you, while you take as much of his cock down your throat. He’s letting you do the work of opening your throat and taking him as far as you can, but he glares in warning when you retreat. Your nose brushes the sprinkle of hair at the base of his cock when you take him deeper, watching a full body shudder wrack him. He’s close by the far off look in his eyes and the raspy hum/moans he does when he’s entered that space in his head you can’t reach. When his balls twitch as a tell tale sign of his release you plop him out of your throat and swat his hands off of you. It takes him a concerning amount of time to come back to earth and understand the haughty look on your face.

Before you flounce out of the room you tell him he doesn’t get to cum since he can’t learn to behave. That he can finish himself off or go apologize to the nice man. You’re only half surprised when he glares at you and takes his cock in hand tight to get back to that glorious sweet spot. He was such a stubborn bastard. The man was just trying to arrange the charcuterie order for your friend’s baby shower, for fucks sake!

But Simon didn’t give a fuck, his cuts of meat were shit anyways.

Soap pisses you off by: nearly burning down the house. You love him for his passion for life and you’d learned to navigate around his inattentive and reckless nature over the years. The problem of not landing ass first into the bottom of the toilet could be solved by simply looking before you go. but putting out multiple fires throughout the week because he got too caught up in whatever fleeting thing caught his interest, could not.

The last near fire was caused by him accidentally overcooking a package of Buldak noodles you’d hoarded from your last Asian food market trip. He’d run into your shared bedroom to show you a video of a ‘Bonnie little lass’ reciting the names of every country, which somehow ended up with you under him, with your knees locked up around your ears. he bullied his cock deep inside your cunt until it felt like a punch in the throat. Your wails doing nothing to cover his throaty moans as he asked you to say yes to giving him a baby

‘What do ye think about making me a Da, dove? Give me fat wee ones to chase after? Aye, you don’t have to say it I feel, you choking my cock. give me one more and I’ll give you what you want, Bonnie”

It was right when you were about to scream some semblance of an affirmation that you’d smelled the smoke. You’d screech for the dirty dog you called your husband to get off of you when he’d kept stroking into you with vigor, saying to wait one sec he was close. When you’d finally ran into the kitchen with a pussy addled Soap stumbling on your heels you came face to face with a blazing fire. The pot containing the ramen was bone dry and the blackened noodles were little more than kindling.

The process of putting out the fire was quick, you’d learned to keep multiple fire extinguishers on hand, but the kitchen still stank of smoke for weeks and the backsplash remained warped with the smoke stains. Soap wasn’t allowed to cook anymore or ask for a kid for at least six months as it was enough work keeping the house safe from his shenanigans.

Gaz will piss you off by: Having to have the last word. Your sweet man was perfect in nearly every way. He was attentive, romantic in all the right ways and made it a priority to make love to you to the point of tears. The problem was he was fucking petty.

The reasonably level headed man became an absolute shit when he felt slighted even a little bit. It didn’t matter if it was over something reasonable, like your overspending on a gift for a male co-workers birthday or a childish argument over who was the actual winner of a friendly Uno game during date night (he insisted you looked while he was in the bathroom), Kyle had to have the final say.

You’d been arguing for three days about, well you don’t even recall. You just hated the cold shoulder Kyle gave you and the space between you in bed where he’d normally be. You’d finally given up your pretense of being upset and stood before him as he sat on the couch with a solemn expression. You asked for you both to reach an impasse tired of arguing, for him to please come back to bed. He continued to pretend to read the stack of junk mail that collected on the coffee table with interest.

‘Don’t know luvie, wouldn’t want to get in the way of your alone time.’ He sniffed indignantly.

You stood confused, trying to decipher his tone and meaning before your eyes narrowed into slits.

‘Kyle are you fucking mad because I watched the final episode without you?’

His dead pan glaring made you stomp in indignation. In your defense, He’d been out in the field for six months and you couldn’t help it that Netflix kept playing the show you had both started while you were asleep. And so what if you did happen to keep watching when you’d finally woke up, he was on LEAVE for six whole months!

You spent the next hour arguing with him on the illogicalness of staying mad but he’d come up with snarky quips. It only slightly pissed you off that the only way he agreed to let things go was if you’d let him cum inside during anal. He’d agreed with a smug smile and shepherd you out of your pajamas and into your bedroom.

Price will piss you off by: trying to reprimand you like one of his soldiers. The key to a blissful marriage to a man like Price is having a willingness to pick your battles. Your husband is loyal and a provider through and through. it didn’t take much effort to just let him lead you both in decisions- you trusted him deeply. But, the man was gruff and prone to callousness especially after being away from home for long bouts of time. Weeks spent on classified missions taking down the big baddies of the world and being up to his elbows in blood and shit made him edgy.

During an impromptu shopping trip that he’d insisted on tagging along on, he’d turned into a nightmare. If it weren’t you in the situation you would be humored by the 42 year old military Captain acting like a toddler over how long you were taking to shop. But you were on the other end of his surmounting tantrum and it wasn’t cute how much he was reminding you of the big ass toddler you both shared. It all came to head when your son’s daycare teacher, Mrs. Hudson, spotted you and came over to chat.

You’d done your best to try and rush the conversation along, aware of the brooding bear of a man behind you. The sweet but a tad dense woman did not clue in to your subtle hints to speed things along. She was too content on telling you about your son’s acclimation to singing the potty song whenever he needed to go tinkle.

Just as you were going to politely interject, John had un-pried your hands from the shopping cart and promptly pushed/dragged you from the aisle without a word. You weren’t even aware of what was happening until you met the startled eyes of your son’s teacher as she watched your retreat, Your cart full of groceries left in the middle of the aisle.

Fuming you kept carefully silent all the way home, even as he barked at you to ‘get in the damn car’ and to buckle your seatbelt. Rage burned the hairs of your nostrils like a blacksmiths fire as you grit your teeth hard enough to hurt. It was much to your disgust that your seething husband lost his own anger midway through the trek home. His tensed shoulders loosened as he tapped the wheel of the car, having the audacity to hum softly to the radio station. Your eye twitched.

You really hoped your son didn’t grow up to be an incel with daddy issues and a podcast mic-because you were about to murder his father.

You didn’t wait for John to open your car door. You jump out and race across the lawn, slamming the passenger door behind you. You hadn’t looked back until you’d crossed the threshold of your home making sure to look your husband in the eye when you try to slam the ornate dark wood in his face before he entered. He’d pointedly narrowed his eyes when he blocks the door for closing and you knew he’d make it a thing later. It was rude but you hold tight to your self righteousness and venomous mood. It wasn’t until after you fed your son an impromptu dinner of cut up sausage patties and a handful of fish shaped crackers that you face a circling Price.

‘‘I can’t believe you! Why would you embarrass me like that, John!’’ You hissed.

He scoffed from his place at the kitchen island, he stretches into a stand. You’re irritated at needing to step back from his crowding, agitated when your thoughts get caught on the broadness of his shoulders in his tshirt. He’d filled out even more since he’d been gone. You loved his body in all forms but the last few years he’d gained a bit of belly fat from desk duty after having decided to cut back on field missions to help out with your young son. Now after months away he was all lean muscles and broad everywhere.

You know you’re already leaking at the thought of taking him and the arrogant twitch of his beard says he knows the same. But you’re not willing to back down. He can’t just bully you into doing what he wants when he doesn’t like something. You’re his spouse dammit not one of his men! At least that’s what you think you said to him. You don’t quite remember the concept of time or your own middle name when he traps you against the granite tower and fucks you until your eyes cross.

“Say it, darling. Tell daddy you’re sorry, love.”

You try to deny it with all your heart, you swear it. But his big hand snakes out in front of you to work your clit in tight circles before you can get the letter ‘N’ in no out. Behind you he leans back and down just enough to switch angles. It’s enough that every thrust is of him drilling his girthy cock into your g-spot with rapid succession. He doesn’t let your screams meet air for longer than a millisecond. He clasps his free hand over your mouth muffling your cries. He tells you not to wake his son and to take his cock like a good wife.

You sheepishly wave at Mrs. Hudson from the carpool lane the next time you drop off your son for school. You’d make a note to drop her off some flowers when you came back for pick up.

[xuterboo]

Good time everyone!

The cutting and analysis of images continues, and today my hands finally reached the Lost Paradise.

Let's meet our beauties!

Let's start with the broken king. Lost Paradise has quite a motley crew. Also, everything on the clothes is very scattered. Lucifer is wearing a strict black suit and a white striped shirt. An interesting observation: for Luci, both when he was still an angel and when he fell, The chest is open, emphasizing the scar. And he did not appear because of a fall from heaven. The scar was probably received before these events. (Fight for Seraphim's place?)

As shown in Liouifer's stories, his snake is alive, or rather, can come to life and move on its own.

I just want to throw in one thought: the biblical seraphim were created only to fly next to God and sing into his ears that he is so wonderful. This means that all Seraphim, including Luci, have a beautiful voice)

Well first of all, gooooospaby, how I love this dragon!!

And secondly, doesn’t it seem strange to anyone that the staff of Gamigin (the dragon) are different from Gamigin (the demon)? As you know, Gamigin (dragon) devoured the demon who slept with him, and apparently the dragon's pearl greatly changed the staff.

The gamigin himself is dressed in formal attire. But the casual look of directional sleeves makes the look looser. And also sneakers. Sneakers, damn it. Okay, if he likes it, then I won't mind. Blue color evokes pleasant and gentle sensations, but also helps reduce the desire to sleep. Nice contrast between Gamigin's activity and tenderness

Marbas... His clothes are more like ordinary clothes in a mental hospital, but the factory did not have white fabric, and they took some kind of black one. I still don’t quite understand why he would chain himself in this during a fight. This is inconvenient and even dangerous. Either I don't understand something, or I don't understand something. But nevertheless, he has a very interesting design.

No shoes. My pants are constantly falling down (my friend: Was it too weak to lower my pants any lower?) I have a long-sleeve shirt that reveals my shoulders almost completely. Acts as a straitjacket, but looks good in everyday life. (I hope it doesn't hurt for him to walk😔)

My sunshine Morax!☺️ I love him so much, I just can’t 🥹

He already has a more strict form of someone like a general. It can be assumed that he is more responsible for the military part of Lost Paradise .

He is probably in the same position as Glasialabolas (I hope I wrote it correctly), but as we have already noticed, PL is a more modest country than in Hades. Origin unknown. Most likely born in LP

He's covered in bandages. God, please give him a rest. Tie him down, but let him recover.

Next up is Buer. One of two demons, behind which there is some kind of creature. You can guess from his clothes that he is from Tartarus. But with feet stained with the gold of the Tartarus River, his origins are confirmed.

Dressed in a kimono of gold, red and black. In China these colors mean wealth (who would doubt it), joy and prosperity. (Buer makes me feel like he is a Chinese healer living high in the mountains. Healing, only those who have a pure soul, hee hee hee)

Also, according to official data from the Belphegor event, I am adding Batin to this collection, since he was born in the Lost Paradise.

He is a laid back lover of travel. Like most of the demons of Paradise Lost, he is dressed in black. Apparently in Nifelheim, Batin is also something of a general. In every country, one way or another there is a demon responsible for the troops, but in Gehenna this is not visible, since everyone has the same uniform.

I'm not entirely sure what culture Paradise Lost represents, as there's a lot going on there. I think this is the people who came together piece by piece from other countries. They brought something of their own to the new lands, combining knowledge with others, and this is how they turned out to be a unique nation. Friendly and quiet by nature. But as soon as you get to know them better, you will immediately see the warmth,which they emit. Although there is another facet that is in the shadows - their cruelty and indifference. It is shown when Adu or their loved ones.

The text turned out longer than I thought. OK...Thank you for reading! Write your interesting observations or thoughts about Paradise Lost!

[anexperimentallife]

The US far right has been working on their plan since AT LEAST the 1960s, when I was a kid listening to evangelicals talking about their plan to take over the US, and eventually the world. It's called "Christian Dominionism," and it's a fascist ideology which goes hand in glove with the GOP's plans.

Although it was not expressed so much to the world at large, this plan was OPENLY and FREQUENTLY discussed in far right circles. We kids, if we asked about it, were told that it was "God's Will." Ask any exvangelical about it, and they'll confirm. (Part of why I know so much about these dangerous and deluded folks is I WAS ONE OF THEM in my youth.)

And where has that plan gotten them? Well, the GOP recently released a hundreds of pages long document filled with their intentions if they win--including a nationwide abortion ban and a repeal of anti-discrimination laws, among other things.

Trump has already signaled his intent to create a military dictatorship if elected, by repealing laws against using the military against US citizens on US soil sp he can deploy them against dissenters, etc., and if the GOP pick up a few more congressional seats, he can do it. The GOP has already pushed to repeal presidential term limits, and Trump has indicated he'd like to be president for life.

So I'm amazed at all the people who think withholding their vote and letting the GOP win is going to somehow fix things and "push the Dems left."

You wanna know how to push US politics leftward? You're not gonna like it, because it takes actual work beyond stomping your foot and pouting and performatively showing everyone how "pure" you are by refusing to vote.

You have to start the same way the far right did (and again, they've been OPENLY talking about and pursuing this plan since I was a kid in the 1960s, AT LEAST)--they started by getting the most extreme right wingers they possibly could into any position they could. Positions like school board member, police chief, sherrif, city prosecuter, city council member, municipal judge, mayor, governor, hell, fucking dog catcher.

They encouraged far right extremists to become police officers and military personnel and work their way up the ranks to the point at which even the famously-racist FBI reported that major city police departments across the nation were pretty much taken over by members of white supremacist organizations.

In formerly reasonable churches, right wingers pushed for the hiring and training of more and more right wing pastors and mire right-wing theology.

More affluent right-wingers bought local papers and broadcasters, and as their political power grew, they changed laws to make it easier for a single entity to control the news--until now a mere handful of entities own nearly every major media outlet in the US.

And then they used every victory as leverage for the next one, and worked their way up. I mean, there's more, like the capitalization on economic and social anxiety and their inentional exacerbation of same so they could take advantage of it, but that's intertwined with the rest.

Essentially, they got this far because they put the work in.

If the US left is going to turn things around (and if it's not already too late), we've got to do the same, but it takes RESEARCHING and PROMOTING your local and state candidates, attending city council and school board meetings, and shit like that. It's actual fucking work to fix a country.

And then, after you've done all that--and after you've shown up to primaries to try to get any non-authoritarian leftist candidate you can nominated--then you vote for the leftest folks you're able to in the general. If there are no remotely leftist candidates, you vote for the centrist or right winger who will do the least damage.

Again, that's what the US far right has been doing for decades. Taking action. Wherever possible, taking new ground, but when they couldn't do that, ceding as little ground as possible. If they couldn't win, they made damn sure to do everything in their power to try to keep actual decent human beings from winning.

Actually doing the work doesn't have the emotional satisfaction of a grand gesture, but it definitely shows who is serious about making a difference and who would rather let everything burn than sully their imagined purity by voting for anything less than perfection.

Listen, Trump is not going to end the genocide in Gaza--in fact he increased tensions between the Israeli occupation and Palestine. And the GOP will never be persuaded. Hell, they want to let Russia take Ukraine and declare open season on asylum seekers.

The Dems suck. But the GOP is far, far worse, and will do MORE damage, and kill FAR MORE innocents. And if allowed to do so, will make it even harder to change the system than it is now. They've already PUBLICLY ADMITTED that their only chance of victory is keeping people from voting. Don't play into their hands.

Under current circumstances, you know what the Dems are going to do if Biden and a bunch of other Dems lose for not being pure enough? You think they'll be all like, "Oh, no! The left sure taught us a lesson by handing the country to the GOP! We'd better shift to the left!"

No. They're going to sip champagne in their multi-million dollar mansions and have meetings about how they need to move FURTHER RIGHT to win elections, because the left doesn't vote.

And if the US becomes a military dictatorship, most of the high ranking ones will simply take their fortunes and leave.

Yup, it'd sure teach ol' Joe a lesson to force him to spend the rest of his days sipping cocktails on the Riviera.

Look beyond the single battle and think strategically. That's how the GOP keeps gaining power. And refusing to act strategically is why the left is losing. We cannot take the hill we want right now. But if we lose the hills we've already taken, we risk losing the entire goddamn war.

So fucking vote. Work to get every leftist you can in any office you can. And if you can't do that, support the one who will do the least harm.

And if it takes voting for that shitbag Biden to keep Trump and the GOP out, hold your fucking nose and pull the goddamn lever.

[moonbaby26]

Title: Proposal

(Chapter 16 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Chapter Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader

Chapter Warnings: language, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, manipulation, angst

Chapter Synopsis: Still feeling pressure from both real and perceived enemies abroad, Doflamingo gives into his insecurities and chooses to take your and his relationship public at last.

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

——————————

—————————— 

For as wealthy of a country as Dressrosa was supposedly becoming, shade clearly wasn’t something they’d yet found important enough for including in colosseum upgrades.

You’d had no choice but to fully cover up in layers of clothing today to hide your many injuries. But no matter how you sat now, legs crossed or not, marine coat unbuttoned or not, there was zero breeze and you were getting hot beneath that persistent sun.

Having this tall, pink bird radiating his additional body heat as he insisted on staying hip to hip with you in the booth was not helping either of course.

Feathers grazed against you as you took yet another drink of the iced juice his servants had offered. But you really wanted to put that cold glass against the side of your face. You would have too if the damn cameras hadn’t kept checking back in at the worst times while the sounds of more weapons clashing carried up from below. 

But it really was like some higher power just kept kicking you again when you were already down. 

Because the juice was pulpy, and overly sweet for your tastes. Something Doflamingo had said was his preference when he’d seen you choose it earlier. So you should have blamed him. When on that final sip something harder in the pulp had caught right in the back of your throat.

Debris that was perfectly sized, too small to force down with additional swallowing. But just big enough to trigger a coughing fit as you left your now empty glass on the ledge of the booth.

You grabbed Doflamingo’s drink next. Some rich, dark beer you’d never heard of. Something you were not supposed to be drinking on duty anyway as you suddenly downed it like it was a late night, after hours in Marineford instead.

“Shit.” You still coughed several more times, but feeling that piece finally dislodge in the rush of alcohol. 

“Well...I can’t say I’ve ever seen someone try to drown themselves with pomegranate juice before.” His mocking tone accompanied the stare you’d obviously now earned. “Did you forget the difference between breathing and drinking for a moment there, marine?”

And you glared up at him, everything only made worse when you saw that condescending expression on his face.

“Seeds got caught in my throat, you jerk. If you wanted your juice that damn thick, you should have just stuck a straw in a raw fruit for gods’ sake!”

But you saw the weird way Doflamingo paused. And then abruptly, the way the muscles in his brow shifted to give away that his smile had now spread to his concealed eyes.

“You swallowed the seeds then?”

“Well yes.” But such a simple question was far more off putting when he was now looking at you like that. “Should I have spit them out onto you instead?” You tried to fuss back, flustered really of what could possibly be going through that mess of his mind now.

“They don’t teach much literature in those naval classes do they?” He just answered with a question of his own, still looking inexplicably amused. “Just books on a thousand ways to tie ropes and how to properly mop decks then?”

“I don’t know what you’re on about.” You retorted, even still coughing an additional time then.

“I have an entire library back at the palace you know.” He said, even as he made a gesture with his hand to summon another drink tray. “I think I’ll pick out some books on this for you tomorrow. You’ll need something to do anyway while I’m back in meetings. I’d hate for you to be too bored and lonely, just pining for my return all day.”

Of course his taunting tone said otherwise. He’d love you to have nothing better to do than just lay around for hours waiting for him to climb back on top of you, you were sure.

“Go to hell.” You huffed, albeit still gladly taking a water this time as the servants were back before you both then.

“Already there, darling.” He quipped, still grinning as he grabbed another beer from their tray in replacement of the one you’d just demolished for him.

“And we have our first knockout of the competition!” The announcer’s voice boomed with excitement as you and Doflamingo finally looked away from one another and to the scene below then.

You’d already learned that everything was so over the top in this place, bordering on barbaric honestly.

But you’d done your best to reserve your judgement every time the crowd’s energy had surged when new wounds were opened up or bones were broken in the colosseum battles. 

Because it might just be the culture here. Every island had its own traditions, its own history within reason.

Yet when the winner of this latest match began approaching his now unconscious opponent, spear angling further downward to take new aim, you nearly stood.

That was finally well beyond reason to you.

“He’s already down!” You said to the warlord. Your hand had closed on Doflamingo’s forearm in reflex.

And the fresh cruelty budding in that pirate’s smile while he looked from your hand now gripped onto his arm, and then back to your concerned face made you pause all over again. 

“Oh, dear woman…a good bloodletting gets these animals excited like the hateful things they really are. Are you going to deny them this release?”

“There are children here.” You managed to retort. But the fresh tinge of disgust was obvious in your eyes. 

These were people, not things.

Doflamingo still chuckled, like a mix of false sympathy and real distaste as his own hand abruptly rose above you. “And you are far too predictable, love. You’ll owe me again for this one.”

And the previous roar of the crowd quieted in the resulting confusion.

Only with the snail cameras then zooming in were you able to see that true result on the screen. Your surprise matching the other spectators as what now looked like a spider’s web had materialized from nowhere to block the kill shot.

The aggressor’s spear now hung in midair from where it’d been thrown. Its sharp metal tip pressed into that web, unable to penetrate past it and cross just those few inches that remained to the target’s throat.

“And…and I can’t believe it, ladies and gentlemen!” The announcer exclaimed again. “His majesty has interceded into the fight! Sire!? Would you like to address the crowd!?”

Some woman in gladiator attire was then at the booth before you knew it. She appeared to be part of the colosseum workers as she bowed in respect all the while offering Doflamingo a microphone.

You heard the warlord laugh quietly, speaking just to you before that microphone was in range to pick his voice up.

“See the trouble you’ve started?” He chided.

And yet he still took that microphone from her as if this was also second nature to him. No hesitation at all as he relaxed further back into the stone seating beside you.

His arm went tight around your shoulders to keep you in that resulting camera shot with him as well.

“I’m only being a hospitable host, Gatz.” Doflamingo’s best charismatic tone now echoed through the colosseum as he addressed the announcer by name. The whole venue was now silent except for their king. 

“The captain here isn’t yet acclimated to the normal rules our gladiators live and die by. Just now, she expressed an interest to me in seeing even this loser have an opportunity to fight another day. Because she believes adversity can sometimes lead to improvement, even within the weak.” 

He gave a slight sneer then, but remained relatively calm. “I disagree of course. However, I promised her we could try things her way just for today. So not only will there be no executions during today’s events…”

And he did pause briefly there, anticipating the crowd’s palpable shock. But he knew just when to continue as well, keeping them enraptured as he then dropped the next apparent change.

“But also, at the conclusion of today’s competition, the captain will also be granted one pick from all current participants to grant a full royal pardon to. And that gladiator will walk free from the colosseum this very evening, by her grace alone.” 

You hadn’t known a thing about this of course. But your instincts were quick to believe it wasn’t at all an improvisation.

He’d planned this.

He’d known exactly how you were going to react as the battles worsened, and you’d played right into it.

And now he was doing his favorite trick again because of that. Controlling you at the exchange of human lives. 

In Mariejois you’d submitted to him under the implication of him harming both yourself and your crew if you’d revealed him as Joker.

In Sabaody, he’d freed slaves from his own auction house in exchange for your promising to soon meet him again.

And in Scylla, he’d demanded your fidelity and made you promise to always return to him. Otherwise the life lost would clearly be your own. 

“So I’d advise our competitors to do their best to impress her. She’s got very high standards after all.” Doflamingo still added, briefly smirking down at you.

He was complimenting himself of course there, implying that he was already one of your so called “high standard” choices.

With so much amusement, this man could make an instant game out of people’s lives and freedom. All the while still having the gall to stroke his own ego right on top of it. 

————————— 

And just those few hours later, he was already refusing to help you at all in this dilemma he’d so gladly created.

“Just fucking pick one.” Doflamingo drawled, sounding bored by then as Gatz was still talking over you both across the stadium speakers. The battles were done at last, the competitors reentering the arena one by one as the announcer reintroduced them to go through the final motions.

The sun was just beginning to set. Something you couldn’t even appreciate as the sky began changing to vibrant hues of pink and red.

Because you didn’t have an answer yet.

“That isn’t fair to them.” You insisted. “It can’t just be random.”

The warlord’s lips upturned a little, yet another beer still in his hand. “Then be lazy and let the crowd choose for you. I don’t care. Just hurry up. My ass is falling asleep. I’m tired of sitting here.”

“This whole production was your idea, you dick!”

“Yeah well, the fights take that much longer when they can’t just kill one another. It’s still your fault this had to be so drawn out.”

You made a dissatisfied sound in your irritation. He wanted you to just pick whoever the crowd had seemed most fanatic about. But you weren’t feeling that. Because they had cheered loudest for only the most violent participants.

Which seemed like a terrible criteria for choosing the person who was about to be released back into society.

Yet you could feel that Gatz was about to direct the cameras back to the royal booth at any moment.

Fuck. You were just going to have to go with your instincts. You didn’t have any information on each prisoner’s actual crimes to do any better with this.

“The tall guy with the tattoo and the ponytail.” You said quickly to Doflamingo then. 

The fighter you now referenced was one of the first to have come back into the stadium in this final showing, and you’d already forgotten what Gatz had called him.

But Doflamingo did sit up a little more then, looking down at them all to see who you meant. Yet you saw his smirk fade once his gaze found the only man that matched your description. 

“Fine. A deal’s a deal.”

And with almost a huff, the warlord made a sudden gesture with his hand. You’d known the executives were close by. Yet it’d still surprised you when Diamante was abruptly leaning in behind you both at that nonverbal summons.

“Yes, Doffy?” That creep of a man asked, far too close for your comfort.

“Diamante, remind me. What’s that fucker’s name? The one with the ink nearly on his cock. She likes him apparently.” Doflamingo grumbled, his fingers tightening on your side as his arm had moved back around your waist.

And you had to stare at the pirate when he gave this new description.

Because yes, that prisoner was shirtless and had a lower abdominal tattoo. With the bottom of that image partly obscured by the belt line of his loincloth.

But for all that was holy, did Doflamingo actually have a hint of jealousy in his voice again now? As if physical appearance had anything to do with your pick?

Diamante did answer easily with the name though. “He was one of Riku’s army captains.” He also added after with evident distaste.

“Wait…what?” you tried to interrupt at that. Because your true, only reason for choosing that particular gladiator was that in all the fighters you’d watched, he’d shown the most restraint.

Someone with real self control that you’d hoped would be the least likely to threaten an average citizen once freed.

But if they were now saying that he was part of the previous regime that had slaughtered those very same citizens under Riku’s command, then these two things just didn’t add up to you.

Could your instinct be that wrong?

“Does that mean he participated in Riku’s attack?” You asked seriously, butting in again.

“Of course he did. But I told you to pick someone the crowd liked. You wouldn’t do it. This is on you.” Doflamingo sneered a little at that, still confirming your choice regardless. “That’s the one you’re letting go, Diamante. Go tell Gatz. And remind him of my announcement too.”

“Yes, Doffy.” Diamante didn’t argue, though he also looked displeased with you before he was gone again soon enough.

And you must have had an expression of further concern on your own face, worrying over the possible ramifications of this as you heard Doflamingo finally chuckle again.

As if he couldn’t stay irritable with you when you were just this pathetic.

“Poor thing. Not easy making these decisions, is it?” He asked you. He was now rubbing your side with that large hand. “Don’t worry, we’re almost done here. And then I’ll be all yours again.”

———————————

Gatz had loudly announced your choice of who to pardon, and as expected the crowd had given a mixed reaction at best.

Their resentment to anyone associated with Riku’s former regime was still so visceral. A joke that just kept on giving as Doflamingo couldn’t help but gloat a bit. 

Because they were all so fucking gullible. In that prisoner, they only saw someone who had once ravaged their own people without hesitation. 

But you, a woman who had been here at the colosseum all of a single afternoon, had already seen straight through this. You’d zeroed in on likely the least corrupted in all of the current choices and picked accordingly.

It was impressive really. Highly annoying to him, but impressive none the less. 

And Doflamingo had rolled his eyes behind his glasses when that now former prisoner did fall to his knees in the arena at the news of his unexpected freedom.

The idiot was actually crying by then, crying about soon being reunited with his family and thanking you over and over. While Gatz was playing the storyline up all the more, waxing poetic about your supposed indiscriminate mercy and unique capacity for forgiveness as you looked entirely uncomfortable in the whole situation.

But Doflamingo knew it would still work out in the long run. A single, former Riku loyalist back on the loose was no concern to him after all. Because this was perfect bait for others to follow.

Your kindness could soon become like a goddamn siren call to flush out his enemies.

His irresistible siren.

That wasn’t an inaccurate metaphor really.

And as Gatz gradually finished up, Doflamingo was now taking slightly deeper breaths himself without willing it. 

His muscles were tensing and releasing again as he downed the rest of his current beer.

The real show was finally at hand. What he’d been waiting for all afternoon.

And that actual tinge of nervousness was still foreign to him as his hand had returned to his pants’ pocket, fingers tightening around that ring.

“And before the official conclusion of today’s events, it has been commanded that all you good people of Dressrosa please remain seated! As his royal highness, king Donquixote Doflamingo has an announcement to make!”

And their king did stand then, postured at his full height as the snail cameras had to zoom out to then keep you both in frame on the stadium’s screen.

You were sitting properly again for the cameras of course, with your back straight and your eyes cautiously on him. His disciplined marine once more.

Because you did know how to play this part of the game, whether you could yet admit it or not. The falsehood of putting on a strong front.

Another colosseum worker had scurried over then, presenting Doflamingo with a microphone again. He took it to hold in one of his hands, your ring hooked with his fingertip by the other hand still in his pocket.

“Citizens of Dressrosa…” Doflamingo’s smooth voice filled the stadium as all else quieted once more. “I hope you’ve enjoyed the festivities today. And I’m glad everyone could be here this evening on such short notice. As I do have a confession to make that concerns us all.” And his grin widened further in the dark humor of that implication. 

Because there were a thousand crimes that would have lit this place up in an instant if he had divulged even a single one of them.

“I haven’t been entirely honest with you.” His heart was beginning to pound regardless. 

But he liked it.

He liked the thrill in this risk versus reward.

He had waited so long for this.

“But that secrecy has been for a very good reason. Because the media would have spun this out of control as they’ve already tried to do. So much so that the very peace and stability of this island may have been threatened.”

He was still smiling, letting the lies begin to flow easier and easier from his wicked mouth. 

“And I knew I owed it to you, the loyal denizens of this country to be the first to hear it direct from me when the time was right. To tell you of the choice I’ve made which will affect all our futures.”

And now he did see you, in the peripheral vision of his good eye as you started to look more stressed. That flicker of panic beginning behind those lovely eyes of yours.

You really were a smart girl where it mattered. Thankfully so, as he’d have tolerated little else in the long run. 

He glanced down to you, turning his head to do so. He was making his attention on you undeniable again for those cameras.

“You see, contrary to prior reports, this woman is far from a recent acquaintance to me.”

If everyone was to know, then of course he would put his own spin on the narrative. He could rewrite this as easily as Morgans could.

Doflamingo would make it what he wanted it to be. Not what it really was.

“The captain here is a distinguished marine, yes. Which unfortunately, put us briefly on opposing sides some years ago.”

Oh, the way he knew he was already sanitizing this. As if talking about only a sporting like competition between the two of you then, rather than a trading of blood, bullets, and the warships that’d been out for his hide.

“But as we all know, through my own merit and perseverance, I also rose so quickly to be recognized for what I really was.”

And goddamn, it was actually fun to say this with almost a straight face. “No longer just a pirate, but a guardian of this world. One of the seven warlords, standing now beside her marines as a crucial pillar in the balance of powers on behalf of our world government.”

He was acting as if you two were truly the same, as if you always had been. That you were the self-sacrificing defenders of all these wretches now hanging on his every word.

And your hands were clenching against the top of your skirt in your lap again. 

It was all utter bullshit and you knew it.

His grin widened.

“But I always desired her.”

An actual truth abruptly there.

He saw your lips part slightly. A sudden gun to your head likely would have provoked less surprise now in your eyes.

“So the very moment that ink was dry on my government contract, when my name was rightfully cleared and my honor restored, I called on this woman of course.” 

His fingers were anxiously turning that ring in his pocket now.

“And we’ve been together ever since. In secret to protect her career from all the close minded fools who may still not accept this truth of our shared feelings.”

A sound went through the crowd of course, that mix of true surprise and excitement.

It was every trope he could throw into this. The star crossed lovers, the lonely heroes, the redeemed king pining for his mate that should be untouchable by the prior blood on his hands.

But he still wasn’t done. Because Doflamingo always wanted it all. And he refused to share you even with the ghosts of your past.

“We even went so far as to fabricate other brief relationships to throw the public off of our scent. Just peers of ours who were willing to let their names be tossed into the rumor mill here and there in order to protect us.”

Kuzan, Crocodile, Smoker…fuck them all. They’d had their chances and burned you both. They weren’t going to get any secondary fame any longer because of it.

This was his spotlight now.

“But after three years together…” He was counting from the day he became a warlord of course. At least giving you that sliver of mercy to imply the fucking hadn’t started until he had immunity from prosecution. When he was no longer legally a criminal at least.

When in reality, your very first physical time together had been closer to only three months ago. That day in Mariejois when he’d first closed his hand around your throat and then pounded his raw cock into you for all he was worth not long after. A whole new euphoria he would never forget that initial dose of. 

“We’re not going to hide this any longer.”

His chest tightened as he felt that tangible flare of your haki. But he doubted you would dare strike him here. Not in front of everyone at least.

Doflamingo smiled. 

Didn’t you know that fire inside only made him want you all the more?

“And this country will become even safer under her and my dual protection. We will have a marine port of call established here, just as we implied in Scylla. Dressrosa will be the new home for both her subordinates, as well as the roots for our future royal family.”

The cameras were flashing like lightning, the crowd’s roar the resulting thunder as he finally slid that ring from his pocket.

Your whole identity, your career, and your freedom was likely burning right before you as he saw your eyes look at that jeweled band in the fading sunlight.

A large diamond was in its center, rising above smaller rubies framing it as if they were droplets of blood. Their red reflection casting almost a pink hue across that larger faceted stone.

Like the diamond itself was a survivor rising from the blood of the battlefield.

There’d been no other choice in his mind as soon as he’d seen this ring. He’d known it was perfect.

Like you.

“Marry me.” And Doflamingo’s dark voice said those two words so simply. Firmly for all to hear across the speakers as he held that ring between the two of you.

There was no intonation of a question in that command, but he did not reach for you either to force your hand.

He was still standing, looking down at you. You were seated, so still in the silence that had consumed the colosseum once more as his subjects awaited your answer.

He would not kneel of course. Only in the privacy of the bedroom and within the throws of full passion would he ever do that for you.

No, here in front of all these nameless fleas, it was up to you to rise to meet him. To be worthy of this honor as he loomed above you.

And he did see you take a deep breath. Your haki had stabilized again at last, quieting in tandem to your careful body language as you did stand to your feet.

You held your head up, a forced grace that still didn’t match the sharp look in your eyes. You were staring into those red sunglasses of his in a way that made his stomach tighten.

Like a lioness on a too thin chain.

It could still all go wrong. Because your desire was unclear and wavering. You couldn’t win, but he knew that you could hurt him.

Did you want to hurt him?

His armament was ready. His heart was pounding.

And then you exhaled.

You raised your left hand up from your side, holding it out flat before him.

“Yes.”

Doflamingo did blink behind his glasses at such a small, yet life changing word. The surrender from you that was all it took to launch the crowd into an explosion of hysterics and roaring cheers as he did slip that ring onto your waiting finger.

Their new noise shook the stadium louder than anytime he’d ever heard before as he watched you with some amazement.

He’d abandoned the microphone now, tossed away for someone else to catch or not. He didn’t care.

He didn’t see anything but you in this moment as he squatted slightly, leaning down as well. Whatever he needed to do to catch you by the lips as he’d tilted your head back when the urge overcame him. His grip then so tight beneath your jaw.

And if you really had blasted him with every ounce of haki you possessed in that moment, he still would not have stopped. His mouth was back over yours, fully greedy and exhilarated.

It was now the kiss of victory for all to see as the crowd continued to scream and the cameras flashed.

—————————— 

“Do you want to answer any of their questions?” Doflamingo breathed against your ear. His taste was still fully in your mouth by the time he’d released your lips again. That kiss had been so rough and you could tell he still wanted more, much more.

But you were having trouble catching your breath. The noise, the camera flashes, and the remaining heat you’d endured for hours now were all culminating into this oppressive crush down upon you.

You really couldn’t breathe. Your pulse was racing. “No.” It was nearly a plea. “I want to go.” You said against his open shirt. 

And for that single moment at least he did listen to you. He heeded you immediately.

You heard him call out to Trebol. The closest executive then to you both, that snotty piece of shit that you still refused to even look at.

“We’re heading somewhere quieter!” Doflamingo still had to be loud to be heard above the crowd. “Call me when they’re ready at the palace!”

“Will do, Doffy!”

And that was it. No other warning except for the way Doflamingo’s arms encircled you even tighter before your organs felt like they were being ripped down into your feet.

The ground was gone. The only noise then the air rushing past your ears as you closed your eyes in reflex to that sudden blast.

Any exposed skin you had now registered the temperature change as well. Everything around you abruptly cold and drier then as all went silent once the movement had stopped again.

You could feel your legs hanging freely now. Your arms moved up to slide tightly around Doflamingo’s neck as you dared to take another breath.

“Fuck…” You panted quietly, your eyes opening again even as you refused to look fully down just yet.

“Yes. The air is a good deal thinner up here. But it’s private. Silent. The birds don’t even come this high.” 

And your wholly unorthodox method of transportation was now breathing deeper himself to adjust. His bare chest still so warm against you in contrast to the ever growing darkness, and the creeping cold which accompanied it.

The sun would soon be slipping completely below that far off horizon. The ocean mainly all you could still see. The island of Dressrosa was now just a small circle within it, the lights of the towns nothing bigger than fireflies at this distance.

“I meant…that I wanted to go back to the palace.” You at last responded, trying to regather yourself.

“And miss this view from heaven?” He taunted you still.

But as his grip on you started to loosen, your natural fear only began to rise. Your body knew it did not belong up here, literally now just an arm’s reach from the bottom edges of the clouds his strings were somehow suspending him from. 

This was the very reason mother ocean detested unnatural talents such as his.

“Doffy...” You tried again, still unable to calm your now racing heart.

“Don’t tell me I’ve finally found something that my woman is actually afraid of?” And that grin of his was so infuriatingly smug. 

“You know this isn’t…at least this isn’t the only reason I’m having a…I don’t even know what I’m having.”

A meltdown? Another panic attack? A complete shattering of everything you’d ever been and had worked so desperately to achieve?

“Why didn’t you at least warn me that you were going to do it this way!?” Your voice finally broke then as you looked to his face again.

His smile was fading. “You’ll have to be more specific than that.”

“You lied and told everyone we’ve been together this whole time!”

This was not how it was supposed to be.

And he was just watching you as if this was of no consequence while you went on.

“You just told the entire world that I have been going behind my commander’s back for fucking years, Doflamingo. And that everyone who knew about me and Kuzan or me and Smoker can now call me a cheating bitch…when I’m not, none of that is true!”

And you saw his brow change as soon as their names were mentioned. You knew he was beginning to glare at you from behind those crimson lenses.

“By all means, let’s talk about your other men and their feelings on this while I dangle you a few thousand feet above sea level. That sounds reasonable to me.” He sneered at you.

His hands had closed around your wrists. He was pulling your arms away from his neck now. Your body was starting to slip.

A clear threat, but you knew he was somewhat bluffing. He wouldn’t kill you outright, not tonight at least. Not right after a display like that at the colosseum. He had to keep this farce going in front of the public in the short term at least, lest he be the one to look like a fool.

But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t punish you if you kept going.

You were sure he could let you fall as many times as he wanted. Then catch you at the last moment just to do it all over again.

And he would absolutely be that cruel if you instigated this further.

But you were also so angry, that you truly didn’t care any longer.

“Then do it.” Your voice broke again. “If you’re really that goddamn hateful! Have your laugh and torture me like you would anyone else. I’m tired of trying to make you understand what you clearly don’t want to!”

You saw him pause as your voice rose further at him. Though he was now holding you by only one wrist as you watched him defiantly, waiting for the drop.

You knew his pride wouldn’t allow any other response. You knew that he was going to do it. That he would think he had to do it.

His only hesitation may be in his disbelief that you were actually choosing this. 

That was the only thing you could assume as a grunt came from that man’s throat instead of a laugh. There was no smile. It only looked like an involuntary twitch of stress pulling the corner of his mouth further down. 

An expression of actual misery just before his hand snapped open and you plummeted.

The fucking idiot.

And you didn’t scream. Somehow you forced yourself not to. Your eyes closed tightly as you crossed your arms over your chest and put your ankles together beneath you.

This was the safest way you might dive feet first into the ocean from the highest rigging overhanging the water off of a ship. 

You had to pretend that’s all this was. 

From this height a body would be nothing but a splat of blood and viscera though. Something unrecognizable if you made it that far. 

The timing was so hard to tell with your eyes closed though. 

Just that terrible feeling and the wind rushing past your ears again as the back of your coat fluttered up behind you.

It probably wouldn’t have even hurt. Death like that would have been instant.

What did hurt was the abrupt deceleration. Only then had you gasped, the pain sudden as your body stopped but your insides didn’t. 

Your eyes opened as you clutched at your torso, feeling like things had actually tried to rip inside. Things that never should have moved at all as you twisted in his new strings.

Even through your harsh breathing you could now hear the sea. And your eyes widened when you realized how close it really all was. You could see the waves, breaking gently in the night’s breeze.

A secluded beach was just beneath you. Outside of that rocky ring of cliff face that surrounded most of Dressrosa.

And then the strings had moved again. You were jerked down before being dumped right into that warm sand.

You stumbled, falling onto your knees. But you were still holding your body just below your breasts.

You were too mad to cry by then. You just moved to sit in that sand, not even looking up as those long black shoes met the beach not long after and already began approaching you.

“I guess I forget that I string my insides as well to absorb that shock without thinking.” His tone was cold, almost monotone now. “And you can’t.”

You bit your own lip, refusing to look up at him yet. 

And in all of it. In everything he’d just said and done this evening, what you still hated more than anything was how your heart felt like it was going to twist itself in two.

And that had nothing to do with the fall.

“Doffy…” You said his name in continued irritation, but with grief beginning to show fully on your face.

Even out of your peripheral vision you saw him straighten up at that single word.

“Do you know what’s the single thing holding me back from loving a man like you?”

What a loaded and entirely dangerous question that was. But you gave him no time to respond. You were yelling at this fucking monster next as you glared back up at him, grief and frustration bursting back out all together then.

“It’s only self preservation! Not self respect, not being a marine, not Tsuru, not Kuzan, not even your fucking crimes! I just want to be able to fucking trust you! For one goddamn day for you to not be a complete nightmare! I don’t understand…you say you goddamn want me. You beg me to stay, to say that I love you. And yet you still treat me like this, every single day. Nearly every day you find a new way to hurt me! I can’t do it. I’m not unbreakable. You’re going to kill me eventually! So why not just do it and be done!?”

He stared at you, silent for several moments. But you could see that blood vessel rising on his forehead.

“Why did you say yes to me so easily then?” His voice was so different there, so strained when it finally came.

And you didn’t hesitate to respond to that, regardless of the rising danger once more. “The easy answer? I didn’t want you to have a tantrum and start slicing through people of course!” 

But you still scoffed, not stopping there either. “But the truth? I don’t want to be alone either, you asshole! And I know that no one else is ever going to stay with me for long. Because there is something very wrong with me. Something that only you aren’t afraid of. I don’t know why! But it’s a goddamn curse!”

You heard a low growl from him then even as those waves still moved rhythmically in and out along the shore.

“It’s not my fault.” 

He said this so suddenly, so oddly, that you just had to stare at him as you watched his fist clench at his side.

“The way I treat you…it isn’t my fault!” He hissed at you as you felt that return glare from behind the glasses. His frustration breaking loudly at last. “You drive me fucking crazy! If you would just obey! If you would listen!”

You started to snap back at him. “I’m not your fucking slave! I-“

And he cut you off so quickly. “I don’t care about that! I don’t want you to die! Don’t you understand!? You’re the only one that makes me feel wanted, desired. It’s not transactional, it’s not fucking fake.” He was gritting his teeth, like he couldn’t explain this in the correct words. Like the correct words didn’t exist.

You gestured in exasperation, disbelieving, but knowing this was all the worse if true. “Then you have to work harder! You’re the only one who can protect me from you. If I die, it’s going to be because of you! Don’t you see that!?”

“Then help me!” He yelled right back at you, teeth bared and voice desperate.

This was two insane people now screaming at one another on what should have been a romantic, private beach just after sunset.

And you with a beautiful new engagement ring sparkling on your finger in the starlight all the while.

That finger which now clenched with your others into a fist against your hip. The anger just too much to possibly maintain.

“Fuck, I need alcohol.” You breathed, feeling like you could have punched a hole into a mountain right now if you’d really tried. 

But you didn’t want to. And you sensed Doflamingo still all bristled up a few steps away as you told him as much. “I’m not fighting you.”

You did see his shoulders lower slightly, but that blood vessel in his forehead was still pulsing away.

“We’re getting married tonight regardless.” Doflamingo exhaled next, beginning to pace. “I’m not backing down. You’re signing those papers as soon as they’re ready at the palace. Trebol will call when the official arrives to bear witness.”

“And why does it have to be tonight?” You asked more tiredly then. Nothing was really going to surprise you any longer. You had met your limit for today.

“Because I don’t trust anyone either. When my stunt at the colosseum hits the newspapers tomorrow, someone’s going to try and stop us. I know they are. So you’ll smile, you’ll sign every goddamn paper I put in front of you, and it will all be faxed to Mariejois tonight. By morning you’ll already be Mrs. Donquixote and everyone else can go fuck themselves.”

“How romantic.” You answered, your chin now resting on your knees that were pulled up to your chest as you remained sitting in the sand.

And at last it was quiet then. Just the calm of the waves for a while. 

Doflamingo had finally stopped pacing, standing there with his hands in his pockets watching the horizon.

For several minutes he remained there, lost in his own thoughts about who knew what before he turned to look at you again.

You heard him sigh, something he didn’t do very often as those long legs eventually carried him back over.

You didn’t fully tense as his ass suddenly met the sand to plop down near you. But you raised your head cautiously to acknowledge him.

“It’ll get better.” He said, almost quietly then to your surprise. 

And all of the sudden your legs were moving on their own. You hadn’t even felt him attach a string to your spine this time.

But you frowned as they stretched out on their own accord. You could only wonder what he was planning now before he laid down abruptly, not caring about the sand on his clothes at all apparently. 

His head was then resting in your newly available lap that he had just provided for himself by moving your legs.

He shifted his fingers again after as well, still controlling you to make yours go into his hair next as he used his own free hand to remove his sunglasses.

You saw the genuinely tired look in his eyes then as he looked up at you while you were forced to gently stroke his scalp. “I do want you to love me.” He breathed, his eyes remaining on yours.

“I know.” You answered. Not arguing any longer, and not bothering to demand him to release you. 

“Just don’t give up on me yet.” He said, his eyes going more half lidded as he let your hand stop petting him. He turned his face, so gently kissing your hand then instead. “Because I already love you.” He added.

And you inhaled quietly. It pulled at you every damn time he said it. “I think…that maybe you want to.”

“If we don’t yet, then we’ll learn how to.” He promised you at that, not actually disagreeing. And he turned onto his side then, briefly closing his eyes with his head still comfortably in your lap.

“We’ll love each other.” Doflamingo said, reinforcing this just loud enough for you to hear over the continued waves. “We’ll have to, because no one else ever will.”

———————————

    T⨂  BE 

CONTINUED

———————————

Thanks for reading!

[firewasabeast]

Uncle Eddie (part 5)

Our Juniper is growing up 😞 You can read this chapter below, or on ao3. All parts can be read together or as individual stories.

Eddie was pretty sure that this was the most nervous he'd been in his entire life.

Standing on the Buckley-Kinard porch, flowers in one hand and a poorly wrapped birthday present in the other, he let out a deep breath as he waited for someone to come to the door.

When the door finally opened and Tommy stood in front of him, he felt about two feet tall.

“You are in some deep trouble, Man,” Tommy said, shaking his head.

Technically, he deserved it. It was all his fault.

Juniper's tenth birthday was the first time she would have both parents, and her Uncle Eddie, off work for the whole day. Everyone was going to be at the party, even all of her very annoying ten year old friends, but she was most excited to show off her firefighting family, which very much included Uncle Eddie.

Except Eddie, after a very long and exhausting forty-eight hour shift, was asked by Smith if they could trade shifts. “I only have a twelve on Saturday, and I'd be willing to take your twenty-four on Sunday.” And damn if that didn't sound like a good bargain at the time.

It wasn't until he got back from a call on Saturday and checked his phone to see three missed phone calls and five texts from Buck that it hit him.

He was supposed to be at Juniper's party.

He was an idiot.

And should probably get his brain checked for forgetting the one thing she'd reminded him about over and over to the point of Eddie having to beg her to please stop reminding him.

So now he stood at the door with apology flowers and a present that would have been awesome yesterday, but would probably mean nothing today.

“Am I even allowed in the house?” Eddie asked, Tommy already moving to the side to let him in.

“Well, technically Evan was closer to the door when the bell rang, but he went out back instead of answering.”

Eddie stepped inside but stayed in the entryway while Tommy closed the door. “How mad at me are they? How mad are you?”

“Mm,” Tommy hummed, thinking it over. “I'm down to about a four, but that's because of all the downright pathetic texts you sent me yesterday after Evan wouldn't respond to you. Juniper is probably a nine, but I think she's more sad than mad. Evan is... Well, Evan is Evan, so.”

“So I'm in really deep trouble.”

Tommy nodded. “Oh yeah.”

“I guess I should get started on my apology tour then.”

“Good idea. The five apology texts you sent last night are enough for me, by the way. I'd start with Juniper today if I were you. Evan won't forgive you until she does.”

A sigh. “She in her room?”

“Yeah. Good luck.”

*****

Eddie knocked on the open door, standing in the doorway until Juniper hopefully gave him the all clear to enter.

She was facing away from him, sitting at her desk and carefully applying polish to her fingernails. The knock caused her to swivel in her chair, but the smile she had faded quickly when she saw Eddie there. She turned back around.

“I thought you were Papa,” she grumbled out.

“No, just me. Can I come in, Chewy?”

She shrugged. “Free country.”

For all the ways she was turning into her own person, she still contained so much of her dads attitudes.

Eddie walked into the room and over to her desk, setting the flowers down beside her. “That's part of my apology,” he explained, then he set her gift on the other side of her. “That's for your birthday. Your nails look very nice, by the way.”

It was something she had been getting into lately. She loved trying new polishes. Right now she was applying a shimmery blue, and she had done so almost perfectly. She practiced on Tommy a lot. His toes had a new color every week.

The present Eddie had gotten her was a new polish kit that had come out. It was apparently a huge deal with tweens... and she was supposed to have it yesterday so she could do all her friends nails.

“I don't know if- if you know this,” she said, twisting the cap back on her polish, “but my birthday was yesterday.”

Eddie went over to her bed, tossing some stuffed animals to the side before he sat down. “I know, Juniper,” he started, hoping she'd eventually look his way, “and I'm sorry. I made a stupid mistake, I know I did. There's no excuse, but I am sorry.”

Juniper sighed. She stared down at her nails, watching them shine as she moved them around. “Papa told me I should forgive you.”

“That's nice of him.”

“Daddy told me it was, um, it was up to me.”

“That... sounds like your dad.”

“Then Papa told Daddy that people make mistakes, and a- as long as people really try to do better and mean that they're sorry, we should forgive them.”

“That's good advice,” Eddie agreed.

“Then Daddy told Papa that certain mistakes shouldn't be made in the first place and people should make an- an effort to show up.”

“Well, everyone has the right to feel however they feel,” Eddie reasoned.

“Then,” she continued with an exasperated breath, “they kept talking back and forth so I just came in my room.”

Sometimes Eddie wished he could be a fly on the wall to see what kinds of conversations happen in this house.

This was not one of those times.

“Well, Chewy, I- I hope you do forgive me, but I understand if you need more time, okay? I'll make it up to you however I can, but if you want me to leave you alone for a while I will.”

When Juniper didn't respond, Eddie got up and started for the door. “I'll see ya, Juniper.”

“Wait.”

He stopped dead in his tracks and turned to see that Juniper was facing him now. “Yeah?”

“Are you really sorry?”

“I'm really sorry.”

“And you promise you won't do it again?”

“I-” Eddie paused, “I promise I will do my best to make sure I never make you sad again.”

Her eyes narrowed. “That is- is not the same.”

“It's the best I can do, Kid.”

She eyed him for a minute before seemingly coming to a conclusion. “Fine. I forgive you.”

“You do?”

“Mhm. You said you'd make it up to me, right?”

There's always a catch.

“Yes... Yes, I did.”

She smiled brightly, folding her hands together. “Can we go to Fun Zone today? It's a trampoline park and it's like th- the best place to go ever! Can we go?”

Well, that didn't seem like too much of an ask.

“Sure,” he replied. “Let me clear it with your dads first, but I'm sure it'll be fine.”

She clapped excitedly, her nose scrunching up with her grin. “Yay! I'm gonna get ready!”

Eddie glanced at his watch. “We'll head out in a few minutes, okay? I gotta talk to your dad first.”

The look on Juniper's face changed. “Ohh,” she grimaced. “I think Daddy's more mad than me. Here.” She hopped off her chair and picked up the flowers Eddie had given her. She pulled out one of the miniature roses and handed it to him. “Give this to Daddy. It might help.”

Under any other circumstance, Eddie might have laughed at the serious expression on her face, but not this time. After all, Juniper got her stubbornness from somewhere, and that somewhere was definitely Buck.

*****

Tommy was on the couch reading a magazine when Eddie came out to the living room. “How'd it go?” he asked.

“I've been officially forgiven,” Eddie informed him. “Although it did take a bit of a bribe. We're gonna go to some trampoline park thing after I talk to Buck.”

Tommy perked up at the mention of the park. “You mean Fun Zone?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Tommy snorted. “Oh, she's good. She is good.”

“What?” Eddie asked nervously. “Why?”

“On Sunday's kids get endless free ice cream. Endless ice cream, trampolines, they've got zip lines, obstacle courses, rope climbing, stuff like that. Add it all together and-”

“And she's gonna vomit in my truck.”

Tommy nodded. “I'd take a bag.”

“She's punishing me, isn't she?”

“We must all pay for our sins, Eddie,” Tommy replied, dramatically flipping the page of his magazine.

“Is Buck outside still?”

“Mhm.” He nodded toward the rose in Eddie's hand. “Flower for him?”

“Junie's idea.”

“Hm. Probably should've gone for the whole bouquet.”

With a roll of his eyes, Eddie turned for the sliding doors and headed out back.

Buck was sitting on the porch, staring out into the backyard ever so solemnly.

“Hey, Buck,” Eddie began with a slow approach toward him.

Buck said nothing, turned slightly to fix his gaze further away from Eddie, toward one of their trees.

“Just letting you know, I already talked to Juniper and cleared everything up.”

Still no response.

Eddie sighed. He scooted a chair beside Buck and sat down. “Buck, I'm sorry. I was overly tired when I took that shift and the party slipped my mind.” He held the flower in front of Buck's face so he couldn't avoid it. “Juniper accepted my apology. Can you?”

Buck stayed unmoving at first, but after a few seconds he took the flower from Eddie and stared down at it. “You only brought me one flower?”

“Buck.”

Finally, Buck turned to him. “That was a really crappy thing to do, Eddie. Junie looks up to you, she'd been telling all her friends about her Uncle Eddie. Told them you were the cool uncle that taught her Spanish, and then you didn't even show up.”

“Buck, I-”

“And I worked on that damn party for two months. You remember all the clipboards.”

“I do.”

“A vintage, early 2010's birthday party? That was the theme I was given! Whatever the hell that even means! Tommy and I spent two months figuring it all out, but all she'd ever talk about was the fact you'd be there. Tommy and I are just her dads, Eddie, you're the special, cool one in her life. You let her down.”

As if Eddie didn't feel bad enough already. “I know, Buck. I know I let her down, and let you guys down too. I'm sorry.”

“You should be,” Buck replied, face tense.

They were both quiet for a minute, until Buck's posture slowly relaxed.

“You know I wouldn't care so much if it was just me, but you hurt Juniper,” Buck explained. “She still enjoyed her party, but she was really upset you weren't there.”

“I know, Buck. I really am sorry, okay? I'm gonna take her to Fun Zone today for a few hours and- and maybe we can have all her friends come to the station sometime soon? Give them a class on fire safety and show them what we do.”

Buck thought for a moment, twirling the rose between his fingers. “And you'll be the one giving the class,” he replied. It was less of a question and more of a command.

“Yes, I will give the class.”

Buck sighed. “Fine. You're forgiven.” He pointed at Eddie, “Never do it again though.”

Eddie raised his hands in surrender. “Wouldn't dream of it.” He groaned as he stood, his bones creaking in ways they never did when he was younger. “I gotta see if Juniper's ready to go. Mind if I steal your kid for a few hours?”

Buck shook his head. “No, but... Wait, did you say you're going to Fun Zone?”

“Yeah.”

“She's gonna puke in your car.”

Eddie closed his eyes, bracing himself for whatever he had just gotten into.

“Yeah, I... I know.”

[aziraphales-library]

Hi there!!! I was wondering if you happened to have any fics where Crowley calls Aziraphale ‘sweetheart’? Any other pet names are amazing (including angel of course) but I’m just very in love with the idea of Crowley calling Aziraphale sweetheart

Thank you so much for all you hard work!! This blog is a lifesaver <3

Hello! We have a #pet names tag you might enjoy, but here are some fics in which Crowley calls Aziraphale sweetheart...

Four times Crowley called Aziraphale "sweetheart" without noticing (and One time he did) by TheLadyZephyr (NR)

"Sweetheart" (1290) - A person who is very dear to another; one who is loved. From sweet (adj.) + heart (n.) Over the years, Crowley has called Aziraphale "sweetheart" on at least four different occasions. He just hasn't actually noticed himself saying it.

In love, I am, with everything you do by 2ambiace (G)

Following the phone call with Crowley during lockdown, Aziraphale contemplates the letter he wrote and whether he should've taken Crowley up on his offer to 'slither over' and watch him eat cake. Aziraphale finds the courage in his love for Crowley to invite the demon over and cake and love confessions and kisses are shared.

Let Our Epilogue Be Soft And Sweet by Tenoko1 (T)

Crowley hit his palm against the steering wheel. “Of course I’d get upset, angel! Those bastards have tried to kill you twice, Aziraphale! Twice! I spend every damn day worried they might try again! Now-- Now-- your conveniently found and rescued angel is on the loose,” the road forked, and they veered off to a smaller country road, flying past a sign Aziraphale didn’t need to see to recognize, though Crowley gestured wildly to it, “in a god-forsaken national park? Well outside of London where no one can hear you scream? This mystery angel that just so happens to be leaking grace and emoting a distress signal so loud you can still sense it?” Crowley dragged a hand down his face. “Angel, sweetheart. Wake up and smell the trap.”

Waking Up Married by Caedmon (E)

"So you’re telling me that my options are either to convince this man I just met and drunkenly married to stay married to me for six months or lose two thirds of a billion pounds?” “That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” Fergus said. “Fucking shit,” Crowley spat. He hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment before rubbing his eyes with his fists. Now his job would be twice as hard. He needed to talk Aziraphale into staying married for six months. Should he try begging or bribing? This was a huge ask, and Aziraphale would be well within his rights to tell Crowley to fuck off. But Crowley was prepared to offer him pretty much anything, up to half of the trust, if that’s what it took. He didn’t care. But that was only part of his concern. Even if he got insanely lucky and Aziraphale agreed to stay legally married to him for the next six months, how the hell was he going to talk Aziraphale into dating him during that time? And was it foolish to even try? One thing at a time, he decided. First, he needed to convince Aziraphale to stay legally married to him. Then he could set about wooing his husband. He hoped.

flightless by viperinz (T)

Crowley finds Aziraphale injured and without his wings long after he stops the Second Coming all on his own. He just didn't expect their reunion to be so morose, and so final.

Sugar And Spice by ladydragona, SylWritesStuff (E)

Queer technology giant Anthony J. Crowley is just about ready to throw in the towel after relationship after relationship has failed, but there's a new barista at the company coffee shop and he's cute and sweet and Crowley's never been able to resist blond hair and blue eyes. The tabloids will have a field day, they always do, but his assistant is getting married and a temp is needed. A temp who really isn't very good at making complicated coffees, has past experience in reception, and absolutely no idea that the latest complicated coffee order came from the owner himself. Aziraphale only knows that he's handsome, patient, and was the first person who told him he was doing well. How could he refuse the temp position? Or, he soon discovers, more.

- Mod D

[topazadine]

Okay, okay, here's perhaps my spiciest and most controversial take yet.

Now, before I even say anything, please note that I am talking specifically about fantasy. Not retellings of myths, not historical fiction set in different countries, nothing like that. This is for second-world fantasy, where you're creating a whole different world.

Ready?

Stop making everything so damn complicated!

This is not to say that you can't have a rich and exciting world filled with lore, religion, different societies, traditions, unique geographies. Not that. Of course we want that: it's the whole reason we read fantasy. I'm talking about something else.

This is my simple takedown, and you can read the rest to better understand what I mean:

Stop jamming your story with five billion weird words.

Don't use super complicated nouns.

Keep the characters to a minimum so we can know and like them.

Don't yammer on about all the backstory.

Stop making readers do homework just to understand things.

Focus on the feeling a story gives instead of the intricate worldbuilding.

And lastly, a pre-emptive note to those who are putting their hackles up and telling me why they are an exception.

Why is it important to keep things simple?

A lot of people shy away from fantasy because they assume that every fantasy story is going to be so complicated that their head will hurt. Not in terms of plot - many people like complicated plots - but in terms of terminology and history. Things that ultimately don't really matter to the plot.

We as writers often assume that everyone cares about our story as much as we do and is equally captivated by every detail. This is simply not true.

To your reader, your story is not their life's work: it is entertainment that they want to be able to enjoy at their leisure. It's a distraction from their difficult lives and all their real-world frustrations. If they get really into it and, say, write fanfic or whatever, that's amazing! But they're not likely to do that if they feel like they'll be jumped on for doing something wrong or that they have to include every single little detail.

For example, I wrote over 1 million words of Touken Ranbu fanfic. Touken Ranbu, at its heart, has a very simple premise: you've got a bunch of legendary swords that were turned into hot men and fight evil time-traveling monsters. You can understand it with just that. There are layers to it, though, that you can slowly untangle. That makes for good writing because it works on multiple levels depending on how much you care about it.

I would have given up on the story if I felt like I needed a dictionary just to understand the plot. Most people would. Language needs to be accessible and premises need to be clear, or no one is going to want to go deeper.

Subtle little details that people can pick up are way more enjoyable than tossing every single factoid at people so that they feel overwhelmed and can't think. It's wonderful to have rich layers of symbolism, mythology, etc. That's excellent. But you can only get people to care about those things if they can actually comprehend your damn story.

A lot of the things that turn people off from fantasy are all about a writer's ego, and it oozes through the work. People can tell that you're wanting them to pat you on the back for putting so much shit in your story. It's annoying and a total turn-off when you make readers work so hard to comprehend what you're saying.

So what exactly am I talking about? This.

Using made-up terms for everything that could easily be explained with a normal English word

When I am writing fantasy, I imagine myself as a translator. After all, my made-up societies have their own made-up language (Seinish) that is referenced a few times.

However, I'm not using Seinish words all the time. I'm writing in English. I didn't write out a Seinish dictionary or even come up with most of the terms because, honestly? Most readers don't care. They want to understand what's going on in as simple of terms as possible, with only a few specific terms that remind us that we're somewhere different.

I may use some specialized terminology, but it's always couched in context clues that make us aware of what it is without actually having to just say "sdlkjfslkdjf, also known as a marketplace."

For example, in The Eirenic Verses, the High Poet Society has religious centers called meronyms. (Which actually isn't a made-up word.) We know they're religious centers because we see all the religious leaders living there. Someone sees the term "meronym" and goes "oh yeah, that's the religious place" and moves on.

It's one of the only confusing, specialized terms in the book other than place names, which people expect whenever they're reading fantasy. Because of that, it stands out and is easy to remember. It's not one of 1029310283012830132 different terms someone has to remember in order to follow along.

Even Tolkien, famed for literally writing an entire extra book full of lore for his stories, doesn't really use that much specialized terminology except for place names. My favorite author, China Mieville, only uses specialized terminology for things that have absolutely no basis in our reality and that can't be explained otherwise. And he's an extremely eloquent guy who uses the weirdest words possible whenever he can. If he can write a book that's mostly comprehensible without a cheat sheet, you can too.

If there is an English term for what you are trying to explain, just use that, for the love of god. The point of writing a story is not to show how smart and special you are: it is to tell a story. You need to remove as many barriers to access as possible.

Things that get a pass and can be made up most, if not all, of the time:

Place names (as in specific places, not categories of things)

Peoples' names

Languages

Species that don't exist in our world

Modes of transportation that don't exist in our world

Magic that can't be explained in any other way

Technology that can't be defined by our language

Look, if you have an animal that is basically a dragon, just call it a dragon. If you've got a wheeled carriage, call it a carriage. Call earth magic something based in earth terms, like "terravitae" or something, idk. There should be some connection to our world in your terminology because you are writing this in English for an English-speaking audience.

It doesn't make you a lazy writer, it makes you one that wants people to understand what you're talking about. Again, imagining yourself as a translator is a good way to keep yourself from going ham on the nouns.

Proper nouns that are way too complicated

Let's look at some well-known proper nouns from fantasy.

Middle Earth

Narnia

Earthsea

Discworld

Westeros

Ankh-Morpork

Bas-Lag

Wonderland

They're all ... simple. They're not a million syllables with weird intonations and accents and all that. If you showed this to a medieval peasant, they'd probably be able to pronounce them and would likely understand that they were place names.

Unless there's a good reason to have a weird name, don't use one. Come up with something simpler.

All of these I mentioned are three syllables or less, making them easier to remember. In fact, I'd argue that nearly every proper noun in your book should be no more than three syllables. Maybe one or two four-syllable ones.

Any very weird name should be balanced out by several easier ones so that it stands out.

40 million characters

Younger writers often want their world to feel very lived in, so they introduce dozens of characters with their own names, descriptions, backstories, etc etc etc. The problem is that this is a huge mental load on your reader, especially if a lot of the characters have very similar names. It makes reading your stuff into a chore rather than an enjoyable experience.

Now, some literary greats do have a lot of characters. But they get away with it because they're great.

I'm not great, so I don't do that.

I'd also suggest that you don't do that, regardless of how good you think you are.

To see if you have too many chracters, write out a dramatis personnae and rank it in terms of importance. Does your top tier have like 15 characters? Cut some. Figure out where they are in the story and if they don't exist for more than a few pages, delete them. Absorb them into someone else.

If a character is only in one scene, don't bother naming them. They don't matter enough. This reduces the cognitive load for your reader because they can see that character for what they are: a background person who exists only briefly.

Any time you name a character, they need to have deep plot relevance. The more unusual your character's name, the more important they should be. And they should have some sort of relationship to another character, preferably the main character. Otherwise, why are they there? Why do we care? Go away!

Way too much backstory

I am an adult and my brain is filled with 50 million other things. I have to remember stuff for my job, I have a to-do list, I have family I care about who needs me.

Your story is not the end-all be-all of my existence. Hell, my story is not the end-all be-all of my existence either. I want to be able to pick up your book, understand what's going on, and then delve a bit deeper or even make up my own headcanons.

I do not need the entirety of your story's world thrown at me right off the bat. It is overwhelming and tiring. Imagine if you visited a different country and someone immediately came up to you and started spewing the whole history of the country right after you stepped off the plane. That's what you're doing to your readers!

Think also about how you approach your everyday world. Do you reel off a million facts about your personal history the instant you meet someone? No, of course not. It'd be weird and creepy.

Are you constantly recalling facts about your city while walking down the street? Do you even know any major facts about your city? You probably know a few little trivia points and that's it. Because it's not relevant to you, and it's not relevant to your readers, either. I can't recall off the top of my head when Cleveland was settled, but I can tell you that we have the world's first Dunkleosteus fossil in our museum, because that is interesting to me. That's the kind of thing that makes a place feel lived-in, not four hundred thousand pages of exposition about the place's history.

Give your readers time to settle in, and reveal things slowly as they make sense. Maybe we hear a little bit about the country's government as they pass a parliament house, or because they have to visit the city center for a different reason. If it's not pertinent to the current scene, then don't put it there.

I've got tons of lore for my world. Some of it may be referenced one singular time, and some of it may be never referenced at all. That's okay, because it's just for me to get a better sense of the place I created. If a reader doesn't need it, then I don't bother putting it in, because it might detract from their enjoyment.

Overall: stop making your readers do homework!

We do not want our readers to feel like they are working when they are reading our stuff. Excellent writers can infuse deep themes and symbology into their stories without making it feel like work. These are the writers who are remembered forever, because not only have they made a good story that you can enjoy at a surface level, but they have also twined in deeper themes that you can dive into after you've digested the story.

I did my undergrad in British literature, so I read a lot of Shakespeare and contemporaneous authors. Shakespeare is considered complicated by modern standards because of the Elizabethan language, but if you translated it into modern terms, his stories are simple. People betray each other and stab each other, or fuck each other, or get transported to weird magical worlds.

You could watch a Shakespeare play and think absolutely nothing of the themes, but still enjoy the story. You could know absolutely nothing about Greek history and still get the gist.

This is because Shakespeare specifically wrote his plays to appeal to a mass audience. He was a god-tier author when it came to balancing symbology and plot. To be like Shakespeare, be simple. Remember that your reader does. not. really. care. all that much. They don't.

It's very unlikely that your writing is going to become someone's life's work and they're going to spend their whole existence studying. Cool if true, but unlikely.

Your job is to make a story that people like and want to read. Only when you've gotten people liking and reading do you get permission to go ham with the backstory and the characterization and the weird names, because they trust you to create a story that they will like. Otherwise, your primary objective is making people feel things so they want to feel more things and read more stories.

People care more about how a story makes them feel than the specifics

Yes, of course there are outliers to this who really want every single detail of the world, but those are few and far between. You should not tailor your story to these exceptions. Think about the average everyday person.

I have many books that I love, but I can't tell you everything about them now. I can, however, tell you how I felt when I was reading them: the plot twists that made me gasp, the thing that made me cry. I can give you a general, sweeping impression of whether I liked or disliked the story and what made me feel something. This is what people recommend books based on: how they felt.

Your story should focus on the plot and the emotion. People watch movies, listen to music, read books, or look at art to feel something, not to memorize factoids for later usage. Even if they do want to memorize factoids, they won't do that if they haven't built an emotional connection to the story.

While in life, we want facts over feelings, it's opposite in creative writing. We want feelings over facts. The emotional resonance, the mood, the characters, the plot: that is what is important, not showing off how smart you are and how much you have thought about your story.

"But Topazadine, I am special and different! I'm not going to follow your advice."

Sure. Go ahead. I can't stop you. If you want to have a million characters and an entire dictionary to explain everything, that is your choice.

No one can tell you how to write; my advice is just advice.

If you don't like what I have said here, then feel free to ignore it. You don't need to justify it to me or anyone else.

However, you must recognize that this may not resonate with readers. It will turn people off.

I'm not a completionist, and neither are many others; they'll roll their eyes and click out when they are faced with ten pages of character names upfront.

Of course you should always write for yourself first, but if you are planning to write fiction for any level of commercial appeal and you intend to make any amount of money on your work, then audience does matter. If you want kudos or comments on your AU, audience matters. You won't get engagement if you are alienating people.

Your writing decisions are always your own and no one can demand you do something different. You just need to decide whether your personal satisfaction in writing your story in a certain way outweighs your desire for validation, and, perhaps, money. I can't tell you the answer for that; it's up to you.

If you enjoyed this, maybe you'll consider reading my fantasy book, 9 Years Yearning, which does not have 121238103 characters and 3230123 strange words. It does, however, have double-tsundere-mutual-pining-gay-boy-awakening. And horses. It's also just $3.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Mira Lazine at LGBTQ Nation:

At a campaign rally in Philadelphia, vice presidential candidate and Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz spoke to a roaring crowd about his personal experiences with in-vitro fertilization (IVF), a fertility treatment that many Republicans are scrambling to support in fear of losing voters.

“This is very personal for my wife and I,” Walz said, describing his family’s experience with IVF. “When Gwen and I decided to have children, we went through years of fertility treatments. I remember each night praying that the call was going to come and it was going to be good news. The phone would ring, tenseness in my stomach, and then the agony when you heard the treatments hadn’t worked.” “It wasn’t by chance that when we welcomed our daughter into the world, we named her Hope.” At rallies held across the country, Walz also emphasized that even if people wouldn’t make the choice for their families, it’s crucial that they mind their own business. “Even if we wouldn’t make the same choice for ourselves, there’s a golden rule: mind your own damn business. Look, that includes IVF.” The procedure is often used by same-sex couples who want to build their families, and it is the most common method of assisted reproduction. Because the procedure requires fertilized eggs to be created that likely won’t lead to pregnancies, many on the right oppose the procedure.

Walz is a fierce advocate for reproductive freedom. After Roe v. Wade was overturned in 2022, he pushed through legislation that mandated Minnesota be a safe state for anyone trying to receive the reproductive health procedure. His position isn’t unpopular, either. Most Americans, including most Republicans, support access to IVF, according to recent polls. After the Alabama Supreme Court ruled that frozen embryos are legally children in February – a ruling that caused several clinics to stop providing IVF treatments – Republicans in the state rushed to pass legislation that protected the right to IVF without addressing the fundamental question of whether frozen embryos are legally children. But Republican support for IVF is often shakier. GOP vice presidential candidate and Sen. J.D. Vance (R-OH) is one such example. He’s previously voted against a Democrat-backed bill in the Senate that would have protected the right to IVF at the federal level. But he still says that he’s in favor of IVF.

At last Tuesday’s Harris/Walz 2024 kickoff rally in Philly, Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz told a touching story of his experience with IVF with his wife Gwen.

See Also:

Jezebel: Tim Walz’s Personal IVF Story Intensely Foils J.D. Vance’s ‘Childless Cat Lady’ Tirades

[jasonshousewife]

Jason Todd x lingerie model reader? 👀

She was supposed to do her shopping, but somehow she ended up buying more than three magazines that featured the same model, It was embarrassing, but I really needed more than looking at those curves in the supermarket window. (In my country they sell those types of magazines in supermarkets, yes.)

But it was even more embarrassing how she ended up cumming more than three times with just a few magazine photos. He was completely screwed, he knew it when he put up a tent in his pants just by seeing you from afar taking a sip of your coffee.

(IDK, I WENT TO THE SUPERMARKET AND I GAVE A BI PANIC, OK? I'm incapable of writing smut so I'll leave this for you to do what you want with it. 😈)

Warning: including sexual content, not proofread! just fresh out of my brain

ohh lingerie model reader would definitely be jason's weak point lol not because he's worried bout other men (of course he wants to punch ones who dare to look at you in a weird way) but because he can't hold himself when he sees you in those pretty lacy lingeries. fuck, he knew he was screwed the moment he saw you on a magazine cover.

he'd search for your name on the internet to find out who you were, it was kind of embarrassing cause he never in his life obsessed over a model or celebrity in media, but now here he was trying to find out who this girl was- smiling so confidently on the cover with those teasing red lingeries. fuck it. he's never jerked off over a magazine photoshoot like this. he's never bought a magazine featuring woman in lingerie as a cover in the first place.

he finds your instagram and god, you're gorgeous. you look amazing in every picture, especially the one where you're smiling at the camera without make up got his heart beating again. he didn't notice you had freckles that looked so damn cute on you. he scrolls his phone with a small smile on his face before snapping out of it 10 minutes later.

and ever since he learned that you live near by- accidentally jumping into you at a coffee shop, he can't stop thinking about you. you looked even more beautiful in real life, and he feels so guilty for getting so worked up like this. He tries to forget about you, cause he's not a pervert who stalks his neighbor. he tries to get over it and live his own life without his thoughts being occupied.

but fuck it life never works his way. he saw you being with a very persistent drunk man who wouldn't take no as an answer one night on the street. he doesn't even recognize it's you, but when he turned around to check on you after chasing the man off, his heart dropped to his stomach. it was you. the girl he dreamt of for days now.

he walks you home cause he's not gonna let a girl who just went through that walk home alone just cause he couldn't handle himself in front of her. you don't notice his shyness and just appreciate his kindess.

the next time you run into each other is at that same coffee shop he first saw you in real life. a short eye contact turns into a conversation, and soon this becomes a regular thing between you. you actually got to enjoy his presence and you could tell that he's not so tense around you and started to genuinely enjoy his time with you as well. the next time he walks you home after hanging out that evening— you invite him inside.

once he was inside your house, everything else happens so naturally. you both felt the tension that was building up between you two, and your lips meet his without any resistance. you could feel his hesitation. Jason was hesitating cause he didn't want to make you think he's just here for your body. but when he feels you biting down his lower lip, he just lets go and kisses you back. he wraps his arms around your waist and pull you closer.

His hand slips under your sweater and he feels you shiver. He's fricking out inside as well, because oh my fucking god this cannot be real. YOU cannot be real. you feel so good, your warm skin already making him hard.

he tells you that you don't have to do anything if you don't want to while his cock was twitching inside his pants and his lips were never leaving your neck. and you give a weak nod.

"I need to hear your voice. do you want this?" he whispers in a soft voice. it was probably out of worry but you just wanted him so bad at this point, and you let out a frustrated, impatient 'yes'.

he must have also sensed the impatience as well, he chuckled before slowly and gently taking your clothes off one by one until you were left only in your underwear. He didn't give a fuxk if you were in those sexy lingerie or not, cause he was too mesmerized by the sight of you. the wet spot gave him a rush, heat going straight to his cock once again.

"Y/n, you're socking..." He whispered in awe. He tugs on your panties with his begging puppy eyes. "Let me take care of you, please. I won't ask for more."

you look down at him who was between your legs, and feel yourself blushing. you've never met a guy who's acting like this, begging to taste you and take care of you... and you nod without thinking. his eyes sparkle as he gently puts a kiss on your inner thighs, being extremely gentle with you to make sure he gives you what you deserve.

but when he pulls your panties to the side and finally gets access to your dripping cunt, he devours you. he enjoys the little noises you make, little whimpers whenever his tongue licks on your clit and press on it. he gently tease your folds before pressing his tongue inside, fucking you with his tongue. he feels your hand in his hair, and enjoys the feeling of making you feel this much.

"hngh, Jason..." you whine and squirm, but his huge hands are holding on you thighs and pinning you down so you couldn't escape. he's enjoying this too much to let you miss this pleasure even for a second. the girl of his dreams, the girl he's only dreamt of and got to actually adore after learning her personality, the girl who's so perfect... he's just happy that you let him do this to you. he feels you tug on his hair again and pushes his face like he's almost gonna dive into you. his nose nuzzles on your clit, and a small scream escaped your mouth.

you feel a heat gathering in your stomach, and he feels that too. one of his hands that was on your thigh move to your clit, rubbing a circle in a steady pace while his tongue was still sucking and drinking on your cunt.

"Fuck– Jason, please–"

"What do you need, princess? Do you want me to make you come?" he whispers in a ever gentle voice, whispering in a breathless voice himself. his cock was already so fucking hard and he was this close to just coming inside his pants, but he has to hold back until he gives you what you want.

"need to come, need to– oh god–"

you shiver and come on his tongue. your fingers tangled into his hair and you can only make choked out sounds as his tongue was fucking you through your orgasm. jason watches you as he feels himself getting so close to coming, and he finally pulls his tongue and hand away from between your legs. instead he pulls out his cock with one hand and starts to stroke himself.

"I'm sorry, y/n... angel... I just need to– nff... get this off my system..."

he whispered with a groan and hump himself between your thighs, making you gasp. everytime his length brushes your still sensitive pussy, you cry out in pleasure. you're still hazy from your earlier orgasm, and your brain can't comprehend anything else other than the feeling of your pussy clenching and unclenching over nothing and your clit being stimulated by his huge cock as he humps himself between your thighs.

okay i'm gonna stop here cause i don't think i can stop myself if i write more!! hope you likes it :) maybe i'll come back later to revise this lol

[amelia-acero]

Hi, my name is Amelia and this my first time writing in very long minute, but I got inspired by the lovely @thefallennightmare , she’s become my favorite writers on this app, with all that being said, someone requested a head canon of the reader having a cryptic pregnancy, she wrote out the head canon and it reminded me so much of my best friend going through that too. I got inspired by it and decided to put my spin in it. So without further ado, please enjoy. I’m gonna use character names, but please feel free to use your own preferred names.

“Oof, damn it that hurt.” Anya whispered to herself, rubbing her back from the most recent cramp out of many for the day.

She was folding up the merch table and boxes of unsold merch from the most recent Bad Omens concert, they were currently in their last show of the tour in Sacramento and we’re all getting ready to head back to their homes. Half in Los Angeles, including her and the other half in Virginia.

“Is your back still hurting darling?” she heard a familiar voice ask. She turned around and saw Noah standing there, looking at her with concern in his eyes.

“Yeah, but this time it felt stronger than the others and now it’s coming every 30 minutes and lasts about five minutes.”

”Would you listen to me if I told you to head to urgent care and get yourself checked out?”

She shook her head while folding up the last box of tshirts.

”I already know what they’re going to say, ‘You have irregular periods, ma’am, It’s just probably your period coming in again.’”

Noah just nodded, after working with them and being on tour with them since their album Finding God, Before God Finds Me came out, they had gotten to know each other and began to really know each other after being in a relationship for almost two years. Noah took the box that Anya was holding and helped put it in the truck where their equipment and merch was being held.

“Come on, let’s get back inside and I’ll make you chamomile tea to soothe your cramps. When did they start?” Noah took off the jacket that he was wearing and put it around Anya’s shoulders, knowing that when she had cramps the cold never did her any favors.

Anya nodded and pulled his jacket closer to her body, while slightly admiring Noah’s body. Something about Noah after a concert always made her want him, but sadly tonight was not going to be one of those nights.

”They started around noon, but only recently they started coming in slightly quicker.”

They reached the door of the tour bus and went inside where the rest of the band was waiting for them.

“We ready to head home?” Matt asked.

Everyone on the bus cheered and loud music began to play from hip-hop to rap to country anything the boys could use to celebrate going home after a long 11 months of back to back tours across North America, South America, Europe and Japan with Bring Me The Horizon, Sleep Token, and Dayseeker. Everyone was more than ready to be back home, none more than Anya; she wanted nothing more to sleep off her cramps and just get enough rest before going through festival season all through California. Noah went to the kitchen part of the bus and poured a water bottle into the kettle, and turned it on. Once the water was ready, he poured the water in a mug and put the tea bag in the mug, and carefully handed it to Anya. She let the boys enjoy festivities and went to the back of the bus and closed the door to get some peace and quiet, drinking the tea Noah had made. After about 3 hours into the drive, she woke up and found that the rest of the bus had quieted down and possibly had fallen asleep. She however was not feeling anymore peaceful and in fact was feeling worse.

“Ahh fuck.” She whispered to herself.

She tried to stand up and sat back down again, the pain being worse than before. She was no longer able to fully stand on her own. Another cramp passed through her and unlike the ones before, this was intense. Anya wrapped her arms around herself and the pain caused her to groan, she tried her best to be quiet to not disturb the guys in case they were asleep. After what felt like forever, she felt someone else’s presence, Anya looked up and saw Noah look at her with concern and fear. He knelt down and tried to sit her up, but instead she just slumped her head on his shoulder.

“Ok, for once this time can you please listen to me when I tell you that I’m going to tell Matt to stop the bus so we can go to the ER. This is way past urgent care at this point.” He said, cradling her head in his hand

”Noah, I promise that I’m fine. It’s just my period about to start.” She said, trying not to worry him.

He gave her a look that clearly said he didn’t believe her for one minute.

“Darling, I’ve seen you on your period, this is way beyond that. Stay here , I’m going to check if Matt or Bryan are awake to help us.”

Noah got up and left the back, after about a long 10 minutes, he came back with Matt, if he was asleep before, he clearly wasn’t anymore after taking one look at Anya.

“Holy Fuck, how long have you been like this?” Matt asked

”I’ve been feeling shitty all day, but it just started feeling worse about almost two hours ago.” Anya said.

Matt knelt down and to get his arm around her.

”Alright man, let’s get her up.” Matt said.

Noah and Matt stood on either side of her and put her arms around their shoulders. As soon as she was up, Anya gasped and felt something warm and wet trickling down her legs. She looked down and saw that her sweats were soaked. Whatever pain she felt was now intensified by tenfold. She bent over and fell back on the floor when the next cramp started again, this one almost causing her to yell out loud.

“Oh fuck, I’ll go tell the driver to drive to the closest hospital, I think were in Fresno right now.” Matt said.

Everyone started to look out their bunks and saw Anya laying on the floor with Noah right at her side. After that everyone immediately woke up and began to help in any way they could.

The bus stopped and without hesitating, Noah picked up Anya and carried her in his arms. He carried her out the bus and through the hospital doors.

”Can we get some help here?” Jolly yelled out

In an instant two nurses, one male and one female came up, and another nurse brought a gurney. Anya could no longer and started yelling out at the pain. Noah placed her on the gurney and was hesitant to let go of her hand.

“Sir, we got her and we’ll get her situated and figure out what’s going on.”

Noah nodded, but was slow to let go of her hand. Anya was wheeled into a private room, and immediately her shirt was raised exposing her abdomen.

“Ma’am we need you to stay still just long enough to see what is going on.”

Anya was writhing around in pain and screamed at the pain, but something felt different, something hard coming out of her.

”I can’t, I feel something coming out.”

The nurses looked up at each other, grabbed a scissor and cut Anya free from her sweats and underwear. The sight astonished them, they looked and saw a head crowning. From that they got a hospital gown on her and immediately moved her into a different room.

“What’s your name sweetie?” The nurse asked.

”Anastasia Mendoza, but I go by Anya.”

“Anya sweetie, I need you to listen to me very carefully, you’re having a baby sweetie and the baby is coming out now sweetie.”

At those words, the world felt like it stopped and Anya looked up at the nurse.

“That’s not possible, I’m not pregnant.”

”Sweetie, unless my eyes deceive me, this baby is ready to come out, whether you like it or not. Now, do you know who the father is and where he is?”

Anya remembered all the times she slept with Noah and realized the possibility of her being pregnant was true, they weren’t truly safe in their sexual activities, but because of her irregular periods, she thought the possibility of her getting pregnant would be slim. She looked at the nurse.

”He’s the one who carried me in the waiting room. His name is Noah Sebastian.”

She nodded and told the male nurse and began to hook her up to machines and heart rate monitors for both her and the baby, and put her feet in the stirrups.

Outside in the waiting room, Noah, Jolly, Nicholas, Folio, Matt and Bryan were all waiting on news, Noah was walking back and forth. Not knowing made his anxiety skyrocket.

”Noah, she’s getting checked out, she’ll be fine, now stop walking back and forth, because I’m getting dizzy watching you.” Folio said.

”Don’t ask me to stop man, Anya’s back there and I don’t know what’s going on with her.”

The male nurse helping Anya came out.

”Noah Sebastian?”

Noah looked and immediately went up to him, along with the rest of the guys.”

“How is Anya doing? Is she alright?”

“Relax sir, everything is fine, both her and the baby are alright. Now if you can follow me, I need you to put on a hospital gown. Right now gentleman, I just need Mr. Sebastian, we can let you know when they can accept visitors.”

In his anxiety induced haze he didn’t catch his mention of the baby. Noah followed behind the nurse and Nicholas stood there thinking over what the nurse just said.

“Did he just say what I think he said?” Nicholas asked.

”If you’re thinking he said baby, then yes, I heard him too.” Bryan said.

Everyone was thinking about the signs they could’ve missed and all the signs that could’ve given away her being pregnant.

“I didn’t even know Anya was pregnant, why didn’t she tell us?” Folio asked

”Man, I don’t think Anya even knew herself.” Matt said.

”I think we should create a baby basket and start ordering what they're definitely going to need now.” Jolly said.

They all left the hospital and began to head to the nearest Target.

”Wait, what about Noah? I don’t think he heard about the part with the baby.” Nicholas asked.

“I think he’ll figure it out when he sees the baby come out dude. Come on.” Matt said

Noah walked to the room while putting on the hospital issued scrub gown and looked up and saw the sign reading ‘MATERNITY WARD’.

“Are you sure I’m in the right place? My girlfriend isn’t pregnant.”

”You’ll see sir.”

He reached the room and saw Anya on the bed and immediately rushed to her side. Anya screaming her head off from the pain and white knuckling the bed rails. She saw him and immediately held on to his hand.

”What is going on?” Noah asked.

”Sir, you're aware that your girlfriend is having a baby right?”

Noah’s eyes widened and realized that this was happening right now, from the bassinet on the side of the bed to everything included in having a baby. At his delayed response, one of the nurses looked at him.

”Sir, if you’re going to faint, just know that we’ll ignore you, because right now we're focused on mom and baby.”

Noah focused on what was going on and gripped Anya’s hand just as hard.

”It’s ok darling, I’m here. Let's do this, you can do this.”

Anya nodded and cried out.

”Ok sweetie, on three you’ll push and push for 10 seconds. One, Two. Three. Push!”

Anya gripped Noah’s hand and began to push.

”Push, Push, Push, Push, Push.” One of the nurses said. After 10 seconds of pushing, Anya couldn’t push anymore.

”Ok, take a quick breather sweetie and then we’ll start again.”

Anya shook her head.

”I can’t, it’s too much. It hurts so bad.”

Noah kissed Anya’s forehead.

”Darling, I’m here. Whatever you need, I’m here. You want to break my hand holding it? Do it. Scream my ear off? Scream.” Noah said.

Anya looked up at him.

”Oh my god, we’re actually having a baby right now.” Anya breathed in, sweat sliding down her forehead and her hair clinging onto her head. “Oh my god, we’re having a baby and we have nothing prepared, no clothes, no diapers, no food, nothing.” Anya said, the heart monitor picking up the increase in her heart rate.

”We can worry about that later darling, right now let’s just focus on you and the baby.” Noah said.

”All right sweetie, let’s get ready to push again.” The nurse said.

”On three sweetie, One. Two. Three. Push!”

Anya pushed and pushed the pain becoming unbearable by the second.

“Alright, the head is out, come on sweetie, just a little bit more.”

Anya pushed even harder, Noah looked over and saw the baby’s head and shoulders come out and eventually it’s whole body, the cold in the room making the baby cry out.

“It’s a boy!” The doctor announced.

“Nurse, Date of birth is September 3rd, 2023 and time of birth is 3:23am.”

They took the baby to clean him up and wrapped him up. The baby was crying loudly and when the baby touched Anya’s chest, the baby immediately stopped crying. Afterwards the placenta came and they took it away to ensure that nothing was missing.

“Alright sweetie, you’re going to feel a slight pinch, you tore a little bit, so we’re gonna get you stitched up.”

Anya and Noah both focused on the baby, just absentmindedly nodded. Anya didn’t realize until she felt the prick of the needle. Afterwards it felt like nothing.

“A baby boy Noah, what should we name him?” Anya said, looking up at Noah.

”I don’t know? I’m still trying to reel in from the fact that we became parents without realizing we were becoming parents.”

”Did you notice anything?”

”I mean, I noticed that your breasts were becoming slightly bigger than normal, but I didn’t think twice about it.”

”I also thought my bras and pants were slightly tighter than normal, but I didn’t think about it either, and you know how my periods are at this point, pregnancy was the last possibility on my mind.”

After about 30 minutes of cleaning up Anya, Noah took off his shirt to do skin to skin contact with the baby. Noah held the baby and fed him some formula, while Anya took a well deserved nap. About two hours passed before a flash caught his attention. It was Bryan and Matt, they came in with a diaper bag, filled to the brim and Bryan had his camera on him, ready to take the next picture.

”Hey man, congratulations!!” They yelled out, but Noah was ready to shut them up to not wake up Anya or the baby. Matt put the baby bag in another guest chair.

“Congratulations!” They whispered.

“How’s Anya doing?” Matt asked. Walking over to look at the baby.

Noah looked at her and smiled warmly, that sight was enough to get another picture out of Bryan.

“She did amazing, terrified, but amazing.”

”Yeah, no shit.” Matt said. “Oh fuck! Can I curse around the baby? Oh fuck it, the baby won’t remember this.”

“The baby might not, but I will, so no cursing around my baby.” A sleepy voice joined in. All three men joined to look at Anya. Noah quickly walked to her side, helping her sit up.

”How are you feeling darling?”

”Like a baby I didn’t know I was pregnant with came out of me.” She joked. The baby began fussing at his mother’s voice and Anya began to reach for the baby. Noah helped with handing the baby to her and put his shirt back on.

”Watch his head.”

”I know.”

Once the baby was safely in Anya’s arms. The baby began to settle, Anya looked up at Noah and gave him a loving look.

”I love you so much.” Anya said.

”I love you more.” Noah said. “Please let’s not find out you’re pregnant like this again.” He joked.

Anya giggled, another flash went off and Bryan looked at the camera.

”Speak for yourself, I thought I was going to die.”

”Ha! That shit was terrifying, so please don’t do it again.” Matt said.

Everyone in the room laughed.

“Hey where’s the guys?” Noah asked.

”I’m pretty sure they’re all looking at baby stuff, Matt and I were in charge of the baby bag, and last we saw, Folio and Jolly were arguing about which crib looked cooler and Nick was getting all the stuff you guys actually needed for right now. He’s getting you guys a car seat, he said he’ll rent a car to get you back to LA, while the rest of us go back on the bus.” Bryan said. “We also brought you guys some extra clothes too.”

“ Thank you guys.” Noah said.

“That’s amazing of Nick, I actually didn’t think of it.” Anya said.

”Have you thought of a name yet?” Bryan said.

”To be honest, nothing on my end. Anything on your end love?” Anya asked.

“Nothing on my end either.” Noah said.

Matt and Bryan both got a chance to hold the baby and Bryan got more photos, eventually Nick, Jolly, and Folio came and wished their congratulations, they all brought their own gifts. After a long argument with each other, Jolly finally explained the crib that he chose for the baby and that it was going to be delivered to Noah’s house. Everyone got a chance to also hold the baby as well and a few more pictures were taken by Bryan, afterwards everyone left the new happy family to enjoy their time together.

Anya was holding the baby while she was breastfeeding him. She looked up at Noah and gave him a deep kiss. She looked back at the baby and stared at him with a new found maternal love.

“Do you think we’re ready or will ever be with our new roles as parents?” Anya asked.

“Absolutely not, but as long as I have you and him by my side, we can figure it out together.”

”We really should come up with a name though, I don’t know how much longer I can go with calling our son ‘Baby Boy Sebastian’” Anya chuckled.

”I think I have one in mind.”

She looked down and caressed his hands that held a very special name.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Noah asked.

”Mhmm.”

“I just wish he was here to see this.”

”I think he is, why else would our son be born on his birthday.”

“I think he would get a kick out of knowing he’d be sharing his birthday with a baby.”

The baby began to cry and to keep her from getting up, Noah took Baby Keaton from her and began to change his soiled diaper and change him into a different onesie. Little began to move his hand back to mouth in an attempt to eat something. Noah wrapped him up slightly and picked up his son and kissed his nose.

“I think our son is hungry again. Should I get a formula bottle or do you want to breastfeed him?”

”I’ll do the bottle this time, just so we can get him accustomed to both. Especially if we decide to take him with us on tour.”

Noah carefully placed Keaton in Anya’s arms and while adjusting his shirt she noticed some writing on the shirt with a sharpie, she moved his blanket and saw the words written on his shirt.

’WILL YOU MARRY MY DADDY?’

”Noah what -

She turned and saw Noah kneeling by her bed with a velvet ring box, a beautiful emerald ring surrounded by diamonds and with a white gold band. A little tongue tied, Anya couldn’t find the words to speak.

”I did have reservations for my proposal to you at La Boucherie in about two weeks, not going to lie, before I found you last night, I was looking at the ring in my bunk and practicing on how to propose. If you ask the guys, they’ll tell you that I had each of them practice and pretend to be you to get an idea of your reaction, but this is a lot better. Our son being here with us was very unexpected, but a welcome surprise. So now that I have both of you here, I wanted to ask.”

”Oh Noah…”

”Anastasia Mendoza, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

”oooh.” A little coo-like sound came from baby Keaton.

Noah chuckled.

”I think our son said yes for you.” He whispered.

”Lucky for him, mama can speak for herself and her response is yes. With all my heart. Yes, I’ll marry you Noah.”

Noah placed the ring on her finger and kissed her again. It was all overwhelming, but they both knew that as long as they had each other, it wasn’t bound to be perfect, but it can be easier with each other. They don’t know what the future holds, but each day will bring a new surprise and hopefully they can be prepared.